Here’s a little mystery for mid-November.

What is this?

Answer?

It’s the correct deployment for one of these:

A summary agenda from the House of Commons. These are the things the MPs wave during debates, to get the attention of the speaker, or signal their (dis)approval.

On a related note, this is a fabulous exchange from earlier this year, about licensing laws for amplified music in pubs.

Mr. Moss: … if the hon. Gentleman knew anything about music in this day and age, he would know that about 90 per cent. of it requires some form of amplification. The irony of the amendment is that it would be okay for a pub to have a huge brass band, with a row of trumpets and trombones, but one guitarist plugged into a small amplifier would need a licence. Where is the logic in that?

Mr. Caborn: There would not be a brass band in a small pub because the customers would not get in.

Mr. Moss: It might be a big pub. [Interruption.] The Minister can interject to clarify whether the analogy is correct, but it seems that he does not want to contest it because he knows that it is true.

And later, there’s a wonderful side-debate about morris dancing:

Mr. Harvey: …the third exemption that has been granted relates to morris dancing. It is welcome but has come, as the hon. Member for North-East Cambridgeshire said, very late in the day. It refers not just to morris dancing, but to dancing “of a similar nature”. Lawyers will have endless fun discussing what that might mean.

Mr. Adrian Sanders (Torbay) rose—

Nick Harvey: I give way to my hon. Friend, as he might like to give us a foretaste of some of the cases that might arise.

Mr. Sanders: I am the first to admit to being somewhat confused about the definition. What activity is similar to morris dancing? Could it be exotic dancing? If so, does that not contradict the whole point of the Bill? Or is the distinguishing factor a requirement that dancers should have beards? In that case, most exotic dancers would not be covered by the Bill. I would like some clarification.

Hansard is an unlikely place to find wit and caustic wisdom, you might think, but it’s worth dipping into occasionally, beyond the debates which make it into the news, if only to realise that aside from the numerous great vocal buffoons on both sides of the house, there are actually some really quite good orators in politics. Witty. Sharp. Knowledgeable. Off the cuff. Certainly makes a change.

What a shame we don’t hear more of them, and less of - oh, you know, the incessant bleating from the front benches.

Meh. Meh. Rhubarb.