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JAMES  NICHOLSON 

TORONTO.CANADA 


Presented  to  the 
LIBRARY  of  the 

UNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO 


THE  ESTATE  OF  THE  LATE 
JAMES  NICHOLSON 


VOL  CXI1 


LONDON : 

PUBLISHED    AT    THE    OFFICE,     85,     FLEET    STREET, 


AND  SOLD   BT  ALL    BuuK.sELLEKS. 
1897. 


ftp 

101 

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BlUOUt  nr,    4GNEW,    Si  10.    LD.,    IMUXI-L-IH, 
IOMJII.N   ANU  TUNBI:n«,K. 


JULY  3,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


iii 


'  '  /^VVER ! "  cried  Mr.  PUNCH,  removing  his  sailor  cap  aud  mopping  his  manly  brow,  moist  with  sea-spray,  and  the 
\J  perspiration  produced  by  many  Jubilee  toasts  and  much  loyal  shouting. 

"  Fancy  you  're  playing  umpire  at  a  new  game  of  naval  cricket  ?  "  queried  NEPTUNE,  with  a  nautical  wink. 

"  Nay,  NEP,"  answered  the  smiling  Sage.  "  I  'm  universal  umpire  at  all  known  games,  from  croquet  to  the  kriegs- 
spiel.  But  cricket  on  your  green  sea-fields,  old  tarry-breeks,  has  got  to  be  invented.  I  merely  meant  that  the  great  Naval 
Review  of  June,  1897,  is  '  over."  " 

"  Humph  !  "  muttered  NEPTUNE.  "  Your  Armstrongs  — aptcst  of  names  ! — might  provide  excellent  ball-practice  for 
an  Eleven  of  Titans,  captained  by  a  HVPKHION-GKACE,  with  an  OCEAHUS-RICHARDSON  for  chief  trundler." 

"  That  would  be  a  novel  Titanomachia,  mustered  to  make  a  British  Bank  Holiday  !  "  responded  Mr.  PUNCH.  "  But 
the  one  we  have  seen  to-day,  though  our  armour-clad  Titans  hav><  only  been  like  Leviathans  at  play,  or  Cyclops  in  rehearsal, 
hath  been  splendid,  pregnant  with  immense  possibilities,  and  calculated  to  astonish  the  Hecatoncheires  themselves." 

"  Verily,"  said  NEPTUNE,  "  the  hundred-handed  warders  of  the  vanquished  Titans  never  witnessed  such  wonders  as 
the  Diamond  Jubilee  Naval  Review,  of  which  we  have  just  been  sympathetic  and  admiring  spectators.  My  own  favourite 
modern  Titanide,  BHJTANNIA,  has  bettered  her  instructions,  and  beaten  her  ancient  prototypes,  THIA,  THEMIS,  and  TETHYS, 
hollow." 

"  Ah,  here  is  the  greatest  of  the  modern  Uranidte  !  "  said  Mr.  PUNCH,  warned  by  the  barking  of  that  genuine  sea-dog, 
TOBIAS,  of  the  approach  of  BUITASNIA  herself,  in  her  strong,  deftly-fashioned  steel  armour,  but  unheltued  for  coolness'  sake 
and  ease,  like  Britomart  after  battle.  Mr.  PUNCH  pertinently  quoted  the  patriot-poet,  SPENSEB: — 

"  Like  as  Hellona  (being  late  returnd 
From  slaughter  of  the  giaunts  conquereVi ; 
Where  proud  Knoelade,  whose  wide  nosihrils  burnd 
With  breathed  tlunius  like  to  a  furnace  redd, 
Transfixed  with  her  speare  downe  torabled  dedd 
From  top  of  Hemus  by  him  heaped  hye  j) 
Hath  loosd  her  helmet  from  her  lofty  hcdd, 
And  her  Gorgonian  shield  gins  to  untye 
From  her  lefte  arine,  to  rest  in  glorious  victorye." 

"  Thanks,  Mr.  PUNCH,  for  the  complimentary  and  poetic  comparison  '.  "  said  the  war-mail'd  and  day-weary  nymph, 
taking  her  seat  at  NEPTUNE'S  side.     "  Huvc  you,  from  your  inexhaustible  store,  no  apt  extract  for  Father  NEP  himself  ?  " 


IV 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  3,  1897. 


Mr.  PDNCH,  the  omniscient,  responded  promptly  : — 


"  Neit  unto  her  was  Neptune  pictured 
In  his  divine  resemblance  wondrous  lyke  : 
His  face  was  rugged,  and  hia  hoarie  bed 
Dropped  with  brackish  dew  ;  his  threeforkt  pyke 
He  stearnly  ahooke.    * 
That  his  swift  charet  might  have  passage  wyde, 


Which  foure  great  hippodamea  did  draw  iu  teeru-wise  tyde, 

His  sea-horses  did  aeeme  to  snort  amayne 

And  from  their  nosethrilles  blow  the  brynie  streame. 


For  privy  love  his  brest  empierced  had. 

Ne  ought  but  deare  BRITANNIA  now  could  make  him  glad." 

The  brown-faced,  brine-soaked  sailor-god  laughed  loud  and  long,  and  BRITANNIA  blushed  smilingly,  or  smiled  blush- 
ingly,  whichsoever  way  it  may  be  put.  "  By  the  blue-green  eyes  of  Amphitrite,"  he  cried,  "  BRITANNIA  has  '  made  him 
glad '  this  day,  as  he  has  not  often  been  since  that  day  of  days  at  Trafalgar." 

"  A  more  playful  parade  of  my  naval  power  in  honour  of  dear  VICTOEIA'S  sixty  years  of  benignant  sway,  O  salt- 
bearded  Sire  of  mine,"  replied  BRITANNIA,  with  a  curious  double-edged  smile. 

"  Titans  who  can  '  play  '  like  that,  my  shrewd  daughter,  will  give  a  good  account  of  their  steel  thews  and  thunder- 
tliroated  missiles,  when  the  time  for  serious  tussle  comes,"  said  NEPTUNE,  grimly. 

"  I  trust  so,"  responded  BRITANNIA,  looking  with  pensive  pride  out  seaward,  where  her  miles  of  ranked  and  ranged 
warships  were  yet  visible.  "  But,  TOBY,  I  am  athirst !  " 

ToniAS,  rigged  for  the  great  occasion  in  natty  nautical  gear,  handed  round  the  hospitable  Sage's  Jubilee  jorum, 
wherein  Father  NEPTUNE'S  bearded  lip  and  BRITANNIA'S  sweet  firm  mouth  were  alike  ready  to  dip. 

"  A  toast !  a  toast !  "  cried  Mr.  PUNCH,  lifting  high  his  brimming  beaker. 

And  here  's  to  OUR  FLEET,  in  this  Diamond  Year, 
And  the  brave  lads  who  man  it  and  never  know  fear  ! 
Hearts  of  oak  are  they  still,  though  their  ships  are  of  iron. 
Whilst  such  ships  and  sea-dogs  our  white  cliffs  environ, 
Our  QUEEN  is  at  rest,  and  our  homes  are  at  ease  ! 
Hooray  1    Let  this  Toast,  lads,  sound  loud  o'er  the  seas  !  I  " 

"  But  1 11  venture  to  add  just  one  couplet  ; — 

"  VICTORIA,  BRITANNIA,  old  NEPTUNE  !    Brave  bunch  ! 
But,  to  make  all  things  square,  add  sage-patriot  PUNCH  !  1  " 

"  Hear  !  hear !  "  cried  BRITANNIA.     "  Bow-wow !  "  yapped  TOBY. 

"  Thanks  ! "  responded  PUNCH,  feelingly,  looking  like  Erin,  "  with  a  smile  on  his  lip  and  a  tear  in  his  eye."  "  In 
return  let  me  present  you  with  BRITANNIA'S  Beacon,  the  Patriot's  Pilot,  Queen  VICTORIA'S  mo>t  valued  Vade  Mecum,  the  true 
British  Mariner's  Compass,  and  Father  NEPTUNK'S  Friend  and  Fun-provider.  TOBY,  hand  'em  my 

«nt  frato  aitfr  Cfoelftf}  tfllunic!" 


"  Here  'a  to  VICTORIA,  honoured  and  dear ! 
Many  happy  returns  of  thia  Jubilee  Year  I 
Here  'a  to  BRITANNIA,  the  gentle  and  brave, 
And  long  may  her  banner  float  free  o'er  the  wave  I 
Here 's  to  old  NEPTUNE,  and  long  may  he  smile 
On  the  daughter  he  loves,  and  his  favourite  Isle  I 

"  Capital ! "  cried  NEPTUNE. 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    189T. 


TI-IE     CALENDAR,     1897 Thte    Seasons'    Quadricy cle. 


JANUARY  xxxi  Dayi. 


71hBp. 


FEBRUARY  ixviii  Days.         MARCH  xxxi  I1 


d.  I** 


It. I.  .MV  b.  -T  Vi  l.cr  Kin  p.  h. 
U'»l'-i  d.  I1:  II,  I'MII  c»)-tl. 
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JULYjtxxi  Dayi. 

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SEPTEMBER  ux  Days. 


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OCTOBER  xxxi  Dayi. 

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MAT  xxxi  Days. 


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NOVEMBER  xxx  Bays. 


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*f.  Tr 


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JUNE  xxx  Dayt. 


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li  Tu  Trim.  Sit.  b. 


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DECEMBER  xxzi  Daya. 

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•:T;I  A.i,t«tiiti    •!•  a    (.r-.m^j,  b. 


£!\ 


PUNCH'S   ALMANACK    FOR    1807 


FIELD    TRAINING    NOTES.      (Aldershot.) 

General  (to  Irish  Recruit).  "CAN  YOU  TELL  ME  HOW  MANY  SPECIES  OF  PACK  ANIMALS  THERE  ARE?"_  (No  answer.) 
General.  "WELL,  DO  YOU  KNOW  Aur  KIND  OF  PACK  ANIMAL?"  -..«. 

Recruit  (inspired  by  recollection  of  many  days'  pack-drill).  "YES,  SORR.     A  DEFAULTER,  S 


(Hmmds  just  gone  away.     Gent  gallops  up  furiously  (U  first  fence,  but  putts  up  suddenly  on  reaching  U.) 
O«nt.  "STBACY  !    WHOA,  MY  BOY  !    LOOK  HERE.    YOU'RE  NOT  MINE,  YOU  KNOW,  AND  I'M  HANGED  IF  I  AIJ.OW  YOU  TO  RISK  YOURSELF  !' 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


PUNCH'S   ALMANACK    FOR    JS97. 


AUNT  TABITHA  ON  OLD  PARLIAMENTARY 
WAYS  AND  NEW. 

LKTTEII  I. — Congratulations. 

MY  DEAR  CHARLES  EDWARD, — I  received 
your  telegraphic  despatch  informing  me 
of  your  success  at  the  poll.  I  confess  I 
could  have  lived  through  the  added  hours 
if  you  had  been  content  to  use  the  letter- 
post  as  the  medium  of  conveying  the  in- 
telligence. There  is  an  abruptness  about 
telegraph  messages — not  to  mention  their 
charge  of  two  shillings  for  delivery  at  the 
Grange — that  is  annoying. 

I  never  have  used  this  new-fangled  thing 
myself,  and  never  shall,  any  more  than  I 
use  envelopes.  In  your  dear  grandfather's 

time  we  wrote  on  a  si t  of  letter-paper, 

and  when  we  had  covered  three  sides  we 
folded  it  over  and  used  the  fourth  for  the 
address.  What  was  good  for  your  grand- 
father is  good  enough  for  me,  and  I  wish 
it  were  so  for  even  younger  people. 

But  I  suppose  I  must  congratulate  you 
on  becoming  one  of  the  Members  for  the 
borough  of  Greatmart.  It  is,  I  under- 
stand, still  reckoned  to  be  an  honour  to 
belong  to  the  House  of  Commons,  though 
from  all  I  hear  it  is  a  very  different  place 
in  all  ways  from  that  in  which  your  grand- 
father sat  for  twenty-eight  years.  It  is 
a  remarkable  coincidence,  conveying  a 
lesson  which,  to  my  mind,  has  not  been 
sufficiently  inculcated,  that  when  in  the 
autumn  of  1832  the  first  so-called  Re- 
formed Parliament  met,  your  grand- 
father and  .the  constituency  he  repre- 
sented for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  cen- 
tury were  both  effaced.  Two  years  later, 
the  old  House  of  Commons,  in  which  Pitt 
and  Fox  and  your  grandfather  had  sat, 
was  destroyed  by  fire ! 

Now  I  understand  you  have  got  what 
is  called  a  Palace,  containing  a  thousand 
rooms,  a  hundred  staircases,  and  two  miles 
of  corridors.  All  I  can  say,  my  dear 
nephew,  is,  don't  lose  your  way  or  your 
head  in  them.  Yours  affectionately, 

TABITHA  PLINLIMMON  PENI.KY. 

The  Orange,  Easthope,  Kent. 


A  DAY  IN  THE  LIFE  OF  AN 
UP-TO-DATE  DOG. 

DREADFUL  dream  this  morning !  Thought 
I  was  sitting  at  a  cold,  draughty  street 
corner,  with  nothing  on  but  a  leather  col- 
lar, and  a  tin  mug  in  my  mouth,  collect- 
ing coppers  for  a  common,  vulgar  blind 
person.  3[(ixt  degrading!  Intensely  re- 
lieved, on  waking,  to  find  myself  in  my 
own  comfortable  padded  basket.  Had 
kicked  the  quilt  off,  and  somehow  managed 
to  wriggle  out  of  my  nightgown.  Talk- 
ing of  my  nightgowns,  whoever  embroi- 
dered my  monogram  on  them  might  have 
done  it  in  tiro  colours  instead  of  only  cne. 
So  much  more  chic. 

After  breakfast,  to  Toilet  Club  with 
Robert.  Curling-tongs  not  warm  enough. 
Obliged  to  complain  sharply  of  careless- 
ness of  new  assistant,  who  snipped  nearly 
half  the  tuft  off  one  of  my  haunches ! 
Sprayed  with  a  new  scent,  which,  per- 
sonally, I  don't  care  about.  Dog  shaved 
just  before  me  wearing  rather  a  smart 
overcoat,  trimmed  with  fur,  and  having 
side-pockets  for  handkerchief,  brush,  Ac. 
Asked  him  who  his  tailor  was.  Said  he 
forgot  the  name — only  fellow  in  town  who 
really  knew  how  to  cut  an  overcoat.  Just 
like  my  Old  Woman,  not  to  have  heard  of 
him  1  Catch  her  standing  me  a  fur  over- 
coat I  Some  dogs  have  all  the  luck ! 

Looked  in   at  jeweller's  on  way  home. 


'  POOR  LIKKLE  DOOGIK-.-HASN'T  GOT  ANY  FEVVERS  ox  ! " 


Bangle  done,  at  last.  Not  bad ;  looks 
rather  well  on  left  front  paw,  though  1 
don't  see  why  I  shouldn't  have  one  on 
each  leg  while  I  'm  about  it.  At  all 
events,  she  might  have  made  it  gold! 
However,  I  suppose  a  silver  bracelet  is 
considered  good  enough  for  me. 

Tried  on  tan  shoes  at  bootmaker's. 
Well  enough  for  country  wear,  but  hardly 
the  thing  for  town.  Mr.  Ferdie  Frivi-ll's 
principal  poodle  told  me  himself  that  he 
wouldn't  be  seen  in  Piccadilly  in  anything 
but  patent  leathers.  And,  though  Zulu 
may  be  rather  an  ass  in  some  ways,  I 
will  say  this  for  him — there  aren't  many 
poodles  as  well  turned  out,  or  who  can  tan 
you  what's  right  and  what  isn't  right  (if 
you  know  what  I  mean)  better  than  old 
'/jidu  can.  Brnirn  shoes  to  walk  about 
town  with.  That 's  just  one  of  those  dis- 
tinctions women  don't  seem  able  to  grasp ! 


scriptions  of  alterations  in  address  (in- 
tended for  books  of  reference)  begin  to  go 
out.  Unbecoming  weather  for  persons 
with  less  than  a  thousand  a  year,  and 
minus  encumbrances. 


FASHIONS  FOR  JANUARY.  —  Unreceipted 
bills  still  very  much  worn  on  the  hall 
table.  About  the  middle  of  the  month, 
articles  of  the  same  material  come  in,  but 
with  fresh  trimmings  in  red  ink.  De- 
mands for  rates  are  also  to  be  seen  in  the 
most  fashionable  quarters.  New  year  de- 


HISTORY  CORRECTED. — On  the  21st  and 
30th  of  January,  Kings  Louis  the  Six- 
teenth of  France  and  Charles  the  First  of 
England  are  said  to  have  lost  their  heads. 
Not  at  all.  They  both  had  their  wits 
sufficiently  about  them  at  these  dates  for 
one  of  them  to  leave  Paris  by  the  Place  de 
la  Concorde,  and  the  other  to  take  an 
early  chop  at  Whitehall. 

FASHIONS  FOR  FEBRUARY.  —  Valentines 
now  only  seen  in  the  servants'  hall.  Cy- 
cles re-appear  in  the  parks  at  Battersea 
and  Knightabridge.  Beginners  wear  at- 
tendants' arms  round  the  waist  as  a  sup- 
port. Expression  of  pained  determination 
quite  as  prevalent  as  during  the  run  of 
last  season.  Sprains  still  occasionally 
seen  in  the  wrist  and  ankle.  Treacherous 
weather  for  those  who  leave  their  bikes 
on  one  side  of  the  river  and  catch  a  chiTL 
on  their  walks  back  to  their  homes  on  the 
other. 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


AUNT  TABITHA  ON  OLD  PARLIAMENTARY 
WAYS  AND  NEW. 

LETTER  II. — A  Little  Cheque. 

DEAR  CHARLES  EDWARD, — I  intended  in 
my  last  letter  to  send  the  enclosed  little 
cheque,  as  I  daresay  the  expenses  of  the 
election  have  drawn  upon  your  purse. 
This  will  serve  as  a  sort  of  postscript  to 
my  former  letter,  and  perhaps  you  won't 
object  to  its  wording. 

1  hope  its  receipt  will  not  involve  you  in 
any  awkwardness  about  bribery  and  cor- 
ruption. But  we  never  know  where  we 
are  in  these  days.  We  have  been  reformed 


who  was  present,  by  command,  at  the 
wedding  of  Queen  Anne.  I  like  it  because 
it  's  the  only  business-place  in  London  a 
woman  can  enter  without  running  the 
risk  of  being  served  by  a  man  wearing 
whiskers,  mustachios,  or  both.  Even  the 
policeman  at  the  door  is  closely  shaven. 

That  reminds  me  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons when  your  grandfather  sat  in  it. 
Not  that  I  ever  looked  on  the  scene  my- 
self, counting  considerably  fewer  years 
than  some  persons  are  good  enough  to 
assign  to  your  aunt.  But  your  grand- 
mother has  told  me  about  it.  Indeed,  I 
have  a  picture  of  the  House  of  Commons 
as  it  was  just  seventy-five  years  ago.  You 


FASHIONS  FOR  MARCH. — Early  cuts  in 
the  Row  begin  to  appear.  General  revi- 
sion of  last  year's  visiting  list  very  popu- 
lar. Seaside  acquaintances  of  the  part 
autumn  now  entirely  discarded.  Hearts 
upon  the  sleeve  no  longer  worn.  Thoughts 
of  young  people  of  both  sexes  lightly  turn 
to  possible  matrimony — at  six  months' 
date.  Weather  becomes  trying  to  the 
impecunious. 

FROM  OUR  OWN  IRREPRESSIBLE  JOKER 
(loosed  from  durance  vile). — Q.  Why  are 
the  watering-places  of  Great  Britain  in- 
tensely aristocratic?  A.  Because  they 
can't  do  without  piers. 


EFFECT    OF    ENGLISH    LIFE    ON    LI    HUNG    CHANG. 

Hi*  Return  to  China.     (By  Our  Chinese  Artist.) 


out  of  all  comfort  and  consolation.  It  \\aa 
different  in  your  dear  grandfather's  time. 
There  were  seventeen  electors  forming  the  i 
constituency  »f  Old  Sarum.  Your  grand- 
father reckoned  they  cost  him  at  every 
election,  in  round  figures,  a  hundred 
guineas  apiece.  But  that  was  the  Iwgin- 
ning  and  end  of  it.  Yon  paid  your 
money  and  you  took  your  seat.  Now,  I 
believe,  you  really  are  not  allowed  to 
spend  more  than  a  fixed  sum  on  a  Parlia- 
mentary election. 

There's  a  pretty  pass  to  which  free- 
born  Englishmen  have  been  brought  1 

You  will  observe  that  my  cheque  is 
drawn  on  Coutts'.  Your  grandfather 
banked  there,  and  so  did  his  grandfather, 


see  row  upon  row  of  country  gentlemen, 
with  black  stocks,  high  collars  to  their 
coats,  short  waistcoats,  coats  cut  away  a 
little  above  their  hips,  and  their  continua- 
tions the  reverse  of  baggy.  All  well-bred 
gentlemen,  you  can  see.  Not  a  lawyer, 
an  Irish  Member,  or  a  whisker  among  them. 

Now  I  am  told,  that  with  the  exception 
of  Mr.  Chamberlain,  Mr.  Hanbury,  and 
Mr.  James  Lowther.  the  old  fashion  has 
given  place  to  whiskers  and  mustachios, 
which,  if  not  actually  made  in  Germany, 
are  at  least  a  fashion  imported  from  foreign 
parts. 

Your  affectionate,  but  disgusted  aunt, 
TABITHA  PLINLIMMON  PENLET. 

The  Grange,  Easthope,  Kent. 


FASHIONS  FOR  APRIL. — Easter  trips  to 
Paris  become  the  mode.  Later,  hats  and 
bonnets  worn  d  la  Grand*  Magasins  du 
Louvre.  Gloves  d  la  Bon.  Marche.  Eng- 
lish much  spoken  on  the  Boulevards.  To- 
wards the  close  of  the  month  dinners 
served  up  with  frequent  references  to 
xperiences  on  the  continent.  Husband's 
promenades  in  Parisian  shopland  person- 
ally conducted  by  the  wife.  Weather 
during  the  four  weeks  of  considerable  mo- 
ment to  proper  crossing  of  the  Channel. 

BAD  JOKE  FOR  JANUARY. — Presentation 
of  Christmas  bills. 

BAD  JOKE  FOR  FEBRUARY. — The  opening 
of  Parliament. 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


.•»* 


SO    FAB,    NO    FABTHEK. 

ExTKAOKDINAiY   1'OSITION  ASSUMED   BY   MR.    SNOODLE   ON   THE  SUDDEN   AND  UNEXPECTED 

REFUSAL  OF  HIS   HoKSE. 


THE  PENDULUM  OF  TASTE. 

(Extract  from  a  Loiulon  Daily  Paper,  1996.) 

AN  event  which  has  been  anticipated 
with  considerable  interest  by  connoisseurs 
took  place  on  Friday  and  Saturday  last, 
when  the  celebrated  collection  of  Early 
Victorian  decorative  furniture  and  objects 
of  art  belonging  to  the  late  Mr.  Eylie 
Culchard  was  disposed  of  by  public  auction 
in  the  historic  rooms  of  Messrs.  Hammer 
and  Rostrum. 

The  bidding  was  spirited  throughout  the 
proceedings,  and  some  of  the  more  im- 
portant and  interesting  lots  obtained 
sensational  prices. 

Amongst  them  the  following  may  be 
singled  out  for  special  mention. 

A  group  of  fruit,  realistically  modelled 
and  coloured  by  hand,  in  wax,  and  in 
perfect  preservation,  under  cylindrical 
glass  shade  of  period,  was  knocked  down 
to  Mr.  Kernooze,  of  Old  Bond  Street,  for 
two  hundred  guineas ;  a  similar  group,  in 
which  an  orange,  or  peach,  was  slightly 
damaged,  going  for  one  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  only. 

A  gaselier,  in  simili-bronze,  warranted  a 
genuine  antique,  fetched  sixty  guineas,  its 
richly  moulded  design  and  decorative  effect 
causing  many  present  to  wonder  why  our 
latter-day  craftsmen  do  not  show  a  greater 


tendency  to  return  to  the  elegant  floridity 
of  middle-nineteenth-century  work. 

A  set  of  six  coloured  lithographs,  chiefly 
scriptural,  and  supposed  to  be  of  German 
origin,  were  secured  by  Sir  Thomas  Tee- 
bord,  the  recently-elected  President  of  the 
Royal  Academy,  for  the  very  moderate 
sum  of  twenty  guineas  apiece.  We  under- 
stand that  Sir  Thomas  intends  to  present 
these  prints,  which  are  probably  unique, 
to  the  Tate  Collection. 

A  tea-cosy  (the  padded  and  quilted  head- 
dress worn  by  well-to-do  matrons  when 
engaged  in  drinking  the  then  national 
beverage)  fetched  £26  10s.  This  article 
is  beautifully  embroidered  with  holly- 
berries  in  the  delicate  "  crewel-work " 
which  is  now,  unhappily,  a  lost  art. 

An  ornamental  pendant,  composed  of 
coloured  glass  beads,  and  said  (though  per- 
haps erroneously)  to  have  been  intended 
for  the  convenience  and  occupation  of 
fiies,  was  bought  for  seventeen  guineas 
(Mr.  Kernooze). 

Another  curio,  which  was  the  subject 
of  brisk  competition,  was  a  convex  orna- 
ment in  solid  glass,  enclosing  an  enamelled 
view  of  the  old  pier  at  Worthing.  This 
article,  the  only  known  fellow  to  which 
contains  a  representation  of  the  beach  at 
Tenby,  and  is  now  in  the  South  Kensington 
Museum,  was  eventually  secured,  amidst 


breathless  excitement,  by  Mr.  Kinucane, 
for  the  sum  of  two  hundred  and  eighty 
guineas. 

A  kneeling  statuette,  in  alabaster,  be- 
lieved to  represent  the  infant  Samuel,  fell 
to  Lord  Boomptrek  of  Koffyfontein,  for 
two  thousand  pounds.  On  the  last  occa- 
sion on  which  it  was  put  up  for  sale,  it 
realised  no  more  than  five  hundred  and 
seventy  guineas — a  remarkable  proof  of 
the  revival  of  public  interest  in  Early  Vic- 
torian sculpture,  which  has  long  suffered 
from  an  unaccountable  want  of  apprecia- 
tion. 

A  magnificent  suite  of  genuine  maho- 
gany chairs  and  sofa,  upholstered  in  real 
horsehair — which,  owing  to  the  total  ex- 
tinction of  these  interesting  animals,  is 
now  an  unprocurable  commodity  —  was 
bought  by  Mr.  Gibber-Wright  for  fifteen 
hundred  guineas ;  not  an  excessive  price 
when  we  consider  the  modern  rage  for 
examples  of  perhaps  the  chastest  and  most 
classic  period  of  British  domestic  furni- 
ture. 

A  very  beautiful  Kidderminster  carpet, 
with  a  striking  design  of  large  nosegays 
on  a  ground  of  green  moss,  which,  as  Mr. 
Rostrum  observed,  no  one  but  the  crassest 
Vandal  would  dream  of  placing  anywhere 
but  upon  the  wall  of  his  reception-room, 
fetched  a  thousand  pounds,  and  a  har- 
monium (a  kind  of  musical  instrument), 
in  walnut  wood,  with  the  pedals  covered 
with  genuine  old  Brussels  carpet,  went 
for  three  hundred  only. 

One  lot  consisted  of  a  complete  set  of 
antique  "  antimaoassaw,"  in  wool  and 
crochet,  curious  and  interesting  relics, 
as  .Mr.  Rostrum  remarked,  of  the  days 
.when  it  was  by  no  means  uncommon  for 
members  of  the.  male  sex  to  be  provided 
with  *  pot,»»«l  head-covering. 
•Much,  amusement  was  afforded  when 
an. authentic  specimen  of  a  Victorian  "  tall, 
or  chimney-pot  hat"  was  put  up  for  sale. 
It  is  stated  to  have  been  the  property  ot  a 
well-known  contemporary  demagogue,  and 
t»  have  been  habitually  worn  by  him  in 
Hyde  Park,  though  we  must  confess  it 
seems  well-nigh  incredible  that  even  the 
most  desperate  seeker  after  notoriety 
could  have  descended  to  such  a  means  of 
drawing  attention  to  himself. 

A  CYNIC'S  CHRISTMAS  CAROL. 
WHEN  we  hang  the  house  with  h- 
Till  it  looks  as  melanch- 

i  As  a  German  forest,  kn- 

|  Gloomy,  gnome-haunted,  and  tr- 

i  Damp  and  dark  as  an  old  br- 

j  When  we  over-gorge  us  wh- 

i  Pa  and  Ma  and  Jack  and  P- 
01,1  Aunt  Nelly,  Uncle  N- 
When  girls  dress  up  smart  and  d- 
Boys  play  clowns   and  niggers — G- 
Howl  out  carols  most  ear- 
When  poor  jests  are  in  full  v- 
Rampant  every  kind  of  f- 
Then  'tis  Christmas,  miscalled  J- 


olly! 


FASHIONS  FOB  MAT. — Presentations  at 
Court  IH  great  demand.  Bouquets  going 
out  with  dowagers  otherwise  occupied 
with  their  trains,  and  coming  in  with  dt- 
butantes  anxious  for  a  favourable  first  ap- 
pearance. Husbands  fi  la  gauche  in  Vic- 
torias in  the  park.  Pictures  of  new  peo- 
ple placed  high  at  Burlington  House. 
Portraits  of  wealthy  somebodies  and  no- 
bodies by  R.A.'s  and  A.R.A.'s  hung  on 
the  line.  Weather  suitable  to  water- 
coloured  silks  and  satins  at  garden  feUt 
and  other  al  fr*sco  entertainments. 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


DISTINGUISHED  ARTIST,  STAYING  IN  CONFIRMED  BACHELORS  COUNTRY  HOWE,  BEING  HARD  UP  FOR  MODELS  FOR  HIS  PROJECTED  WORK 
OF  "Tax  DISCARDED  Sun"  GETS  HIS  HOST'S  DOMESTICS  TO  STAND  FOR  HIM. 


THERE  WAS  A  NEW  WOMAN. 

(Neo-Nursery  Rhyme. ) 

THERE  was  a  New  Woman,  as  I  Ve  heard 
toll, 

And  she  rode  a  bike  with  a  horrible  bell, 

She  rode  a  bike  in  a  masculine  way, 

And  she  had  a  spill  on  the  Queen's  high- 
way. 

While  she  lay  stunned,  up  came  Doctor 
Stout, 

And  he  cast  a  petticoat  her  "knickers" 
about, 

To  hide  the  striped  horrors  which  bagged 
at  the  knees. 

When  the  New  Woman  woke,  she  felt 
strange  and  ill  at  ease ; 

She  began  to  wonder  those  skirts  for  to 

spy, 

And  cried.  "Oh,  goodness  gracious!     I'm 

sure  this  isn't  I ! 
But  if  it  is  I,  as  I  hope  it  be, 
I  know  a  little  vulgar  boy,  and  he  knows 

me; 

And  if  it  is  I,  he  will  jeer  and  rail, 
But  if  it  isn't  I,  why,  to  notice  me  he  'II 

fail." 
So  off  scorched  the  New  Woman,   all  in 

the  dark, 
But  as  the  little  vulgar  boy  her  knickers  ' 

failed  to  mark, 

He  was  quite  polite,  and  she  began  to  cry, 
"  Oh !   Jimmy   doesn't   cheek  me,   so   I  'in 

sure  this  isn't  I !  " 


NOTE  BY  "DARBY  JONES."— At  Christ- 
mas the  "straight  tip"  is  always  given 
to  the  conveyors  of  Her  Majesty's  Mails, 
to  the  removers  of  dust,  and  occasionally 
to  the  harmless,  necessary  constable. 


A    BRIGHT    LOOK-OUT. 

(By  a  wearied  Century-ender, ) 
THE  "  so-called  Nineteenth  Century  " 

Is  drawing  to  a  close  ; 
Right  soon  the  Twentieth  we  shall  see ! 

What  will  become  of  those 
Who  live  upon  one  well-worn  phrase, 

The  "  Fin-de-SMe  "  lot, 
The  victims  of  erotic  craze, 

And  pessimistic  rot  ? 
The  sniff,  the  sneer,  the  stale  small-beer, 

Must  soon  be  "out-of-date." 
The    young    New    Age    may    bring    good 
cheer, — 

Oh,  most  appalling  fate! 
If  health  and  hope  mar  phrase  and  trope 

Of  cynic  hedonist, 
For  his  poor  scrag  a  silken  rope 

The  goose  must  surely  twist. 
For  what  fit  theme  for  opiate  dream, 

Blue  devils,  scarlet  sins, 
When  at  one  Century's  extreme, 

Another  one — begins? 
Pet  phrases  then,  wherewith  his  pen 

Is  fertile,  will  not  fit  : 
Anachronism,  scorned  of  men, 

Must  mar  his  morbid  wit. 
Oh  !  dire  look-out,  when  chronic  doubt, 

And  sceptic  zest  for  sinning, 
Which  fit  an  "End"  are  turned  about 

In  face  of  a  Beginning ! 
But_oh  !  the  joy  of  honest  hearts, 

_  Wearied  of  sin  and  sludge, 
When,  with  the  Opening  Age,  departs 

The  Fin-rlr-Siecle  fudge! 


HEIIE  is  THE  PORTRAIT  OF  CONFIRMED 
BACHELOR  HOST,  ACCUSTOMED  TO  BE  WAITED 
'  IMMEDIATELY  HE  KINGS  THE  BELL. 


BAD   JOKE  FOB  MARCH. — "Mad   heir." 
Quarter  day. 

BAD  JOKE  FOR  APRIL. — Ratepayers  All 
Fools'  Day. 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


i-i  v :. 


'•-..._ 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


AUNT  TABITHA  ON  OLD  PARLIAMENTARY 
WAYS  AND  NEW. 

LETTER  III.  —  (>,i  //<••  Ttrmei. 

CHARLES  EDWARD, — I  declare,  if  it  were 
not  too  late,  as  it  probably  is,  I  would  stop 
payment  of  the  cheque  I  weakly  sent  in 
ray  last  letter.  What  do  you  mean  by 
promising  to  take  me  to  tea  on  the  Terrace 
as  soon  as  it  is  warm  enough  to  sit  out  ? 
If  I  were  within  arm's  reach  of  you,  I 
would  make  it  warm  enough  for  you,  quite 
apart  from  conditions  of  ordinary  tem- 
perature. What  have  I  done  or  said  that 
you  should  imagine  I  would  show  myself 
in  such  a  place,  amid  such  surroundings  ? 

This  invasion  of  the  House  of  Commons 
by  women,  these  frivolous  five-o'clock  teas, 


out  a  candle,  and  fell  on  the  clerk's  wig 
j  at  the  end  of  *the  table.     Your  dear  grand- 
father, not  knowing  whose   was  the   mis- 
j  hap,    was   so    sardonically   s»evere    on    the 
!  subject    when   he   came   home   to  dinner, 
!  (Members  dined  comfortably   at  home   in 
I  those     days,)     that     your      grandmother 
i  thought     she     had    better     not    mention 
j  names.     As  far  as  your   grandfather   was 
concerned,  she  carried  her  secret   to  the 
grave,  but  never  saw  her  fan  again,  which 
I  she  always  believes  the  clerk  at  the  table 
gave  to  his  wife — or  someone  else's. 

Thus    you   will    perceive    how,    even   in 

early   stages  of  the  now   riotous  fashion, 

the  attendance   of   women  at   the   House 

!  of   Commons  debates   led   to   duplicity  in 

i  the   most   sacred   relations    of   the   house- 


"  Diddy-iddy-dnckums  " — but  that  was  en- 
tirely beside  the  point,  and  she  need  not 
have  spilt  some  coffee  on  my  best  morning 
jacket. 

Drive  with  the  O.  W.  Called  on  Lady 
Ida  Downey,  who  was  not  at  home. 
Robert  was  told  to  leave  one  of  my 
visiting-cards  on  her  Japanese  spaniel, 
Mousme,  a  conceited,  pampered  little 
black  and  white  beast,  whom  I  have  rather 
gone  out  of  my  way  to  snub.  Much  an- 
noyed, because  this  sort  of  thing  puts  a 
poodle  in  such  a  thoroughly  false  position  ; 
but  of  course  my  Old  Woman  doesn't  con- 
sidei  that! 

Stopped  at  confectioner's,  for  sweets. 
It 's  a  very  curious  thing,  considering  how 
long  she  's  known  me,  but  the  Old  Lady 


Mill*  I,  s  thru  bosom  Friends  (all  experts — wlia  have  run  rovmd  to  see  tlw  Christmas  gift).  "  HULLO,  HAB  !  WHY,  WHAT  ON  EARTH  ABE 
YOU  DOING!" 

Mob  (in  gasps).  "On — YOU  SEE — IT  WAS  AWFULLY  KIND  OF  THE  PATER  TO  GIVE  IT  TO  ME — BUT  I  HAVE  TO  LOOK  AFTER  IT  MY- 
SELF— AND  I  KNEW  I  SHOULD  SEVER  HAVE  BREATH  SSOV9H  TO  BLOW  THE  TYRES  OUT!" 


mark  the  decadence  of  what  your  dear  j 
grandfather  used  to  call  the  mother  of 
Parliaments.  Long  before  imperial  legis- 
lation was  degraded  into  the  position  of 
an  accessory  to  a  social  function,  my  blood 
boiled  at  the  complaints  of  women  who  go 
to  the  House  of  Commons  to  hear  debates, 
and  abuse  the  gallery  for  being  "a  cage." 
Why,  in  your  dear  grandfather's  time  there 
was  no  accommodation  for  women  in  any 
part  of  the  House  of  Commons,  it  being  '• 
in  those  times  thought  they  were  much 
better  at  home  minding  the  business  of 
the  household.  If  curiosity  was  insistent, 
and  their  husbands  temporarily  weak,  they 
were  conducted  to  the  ventilating  cham- 
ber over  the  candelabra  in  the  roof,  where 
three  or  four  of  them  might,  with  ex- 
cessive discomfort  peep  down  on  the 
scene. 

Your  dear  grandmother  never  went  but 
once,  and  then  she  was  so  perturbed  that 
she  dropped  her  fan,  which,  falling  through 
the  aperture,  narrowly  escaped  putting 


hold.     So    let   me    hear    no    more    about 
the  Terrace,  if  you  would  have  me  remain 

Your  affectionate  aunt, 
TABITHA  PUNLIMMON  PENLEY. 
The  Grange,  Easthope,  Kent. 


A    DAY    IN    THE    LIFE    OF    AN 
UP-TO-DATE    DOG. 

Tete-a-tete  lunch  with  the  Old  Woman. 
\Vore  my  navy-blue  lounge-coat,  and  ce- 
rise bow  in  my  top-knot.  O.  W.  boring, 
as  usual.  Wouldn't  let  me  have  second 
helping  of  stewed  chicken.  Told  Robert 
— in  my  presence  —  that  I  was  "getting 
much  too  stout."  So  is  she — but  she  had 
some  more  chicken !  I  do  not  wish  to 
break  with  her  unless  I  'm  absolutely  com- 
pelled, but  I  cannot  live  happily  under  a 
roof  where  I  don't  feel  that  my  merits  are 
properly  appreciated.  And  really,  to  have 
personal  remarks  made  upon  one's  figure. 

to  a  menial !     She  thought  she  could 

make   it    up  afterwards  by   calling   me   a 


never  can  get  it  into  her  head  that  I  in- 
finitely prefer  fondants  to  chocolate 
creams !  Is  this  native  stupidity  on  her 
part,  or  merely  want  of  observation? 

My  fawn-coloured  driving-coat,  with 
braided  facings,  seems  to  attract  a  good 
deal  of  notice ;  it  certainly  does  suit  me. 
How  so  many  dogs  can  bring  themselves 
to  go  about  as  they  do  in  a  state  of  Na- 
ture I  simply  can't  understand.  If  I  was 
in  their  place,  1  should  die  of  shame,  I 
really  believe.  I  should  certainly  catch  a 
severe  cold. 


FASHIONS  FOR  JUNE. — Opera  a  I'int-er- 
national  at  Covent  Garden.  Musical 
melange  a  la  toutes  Us  langues  Europeennes, 
popular  with  Eumerous  artistes  of  the 
highest  continental  reputation.  Terrace 
teas  for  ladies,  with  M.P.  accessories. 
Nights  on  the  box  fashionable,  but  trying 
to  Society  coachmen.  Regimental  din- 
ners the  regulation  during  Derby  week. 
Hampers  much  worn  on  coaches. 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOIt    1807. 


Ik 


A     GREAT     DISAPPOINTMENT. 

Proud  Parent  (u'ho  has  been  introducing  his  son  to  same  of  England' s<j--ntleiflm}.   "THERE,  MY  BOY,  THIS  WILL  BE  SOMETHING  FOR  TOP 
TO  REMEMBFR  WHEN  Ynr  ARE  A  MAN!"  Yawnq  Hwfvl  (rather  disarmointed).   "  IHX'T  THERE  A  Cf.XJURKR  AMONOST  THEM?" 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


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PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


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"HUSBANDS    IN    WAITING." 


A     PLACE    FOB    EVEBYTHINO. 

Obstructive  Lady  (in  reply  to  the  Golfer's  warning  call).  "THE  WHOLE  WORLD  WASN'T  MADE  FOR  GOLF,  SIR." 
Youngster.   "  N«  ;  BUT  THE  LINKS  wis.     TORE!" 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


AMATEUR     TABLEAUX    VIVANTS.— No.  I. 

MR.  AND  MRS.  FUSSINGTON  TOOTLES  HAVE  RECENTLY  ORGANISED  AND  ARRANGED  A 
SERIES  OF  DOMESTIC  TABLEAUX  VlVANTS  FOR  THE  DELECTATION  OF  THEIR  MANY  FUIENDS. 
"NAPOLEON  ON  BOARD  THE  BELLSROPHOK,"  AFTER  THE  WELL-KNOWN  PICTURE  BY  MR. 
ORCHABDSON,  E.A.,  WITH  MR.  TOOTLES  AS  THE  CHIEF  PART  WAS  VOTED  A  PERFECT 

TRIUMPH   OF   REALISM  ! 


A  MESSAGE  FROM  MARS. 

[A  mysterious  meteorite  is  reported  to  have  fallen 
lately,  on  one  side  of  which  are  cabalistic  characters 
supposed  to  constitute  "  A  Message  from  Murs." 
Mr.  Punch  has  deciphered  it,  and  jjives  herewith  a 
free  translation  and  pictorial  illustration.] 

MANAGE  things  better  here  ?    We  do,  my 

boy! 

We  know  how  to  exist  and  to  enjoy ; 
Which  you  do  not.    Men  call  me  god  of 

war, 
But  there 's  no  fighting  in  my  blood-red 

star. 

We  do  not  waste  our  labour  and  our  cash 
On  preparations  for  a  general  smash. 
A  soldier  or  a  sword,  war-ship  or  gun, 
Do  not  exist,  save  pictured  in  pure  fun 
In  our  museums  of  antiquities. 
Boys     howling      "  latest      news !  " — mere 

"  liners' "  lies- 
Are  superseded  here  by  pretty  girls, 
Darlings  in  classic  garb,  with  flowing  curls, 
Who    proffer    pleasing    pennyworths,    all 

pith, 

Perfumed  and  pictured.     Any  noise  there- 
with, 

Or  otherwise,  in  railway  whistle   shrill, 
So-called    "street-music,"    guaranteed    to 

kill 


Peace  at  a  thousand  yards,  harsh  chapel- 
bells, 

Coster's  coarse  clamour,  roysterer's  rau- 
cous yells, — 

All  are  taboo.     All  such  are  set,  with  art, 

To  music  by  soive  Martian  Mozart. 

And  though  we  have  no  savage  breasts  to 
soothe, 

The  noise  of  German  bands,  or  General 
Booth, 

Would  rile  our  gentle  bosoms,  for  row's 
ravages 

Would  turn  the  mildest  Martians  into 
savages. 

Our  streets  are  sweet  and  silent,  cheerful, 
clean, 

Broad,  brightly-lit,  bordered  with  bosky 
green. 

Advertisements,  ruled  by  a  Board  of  Art, 

Never  sensational  or  coarsely  smart, 

Gladden  the  eye  and  train  the  general 
taste 

Unprudish,  but  a?sthetically  chaste. 

Amusement  is — amusing  1     Prig  or  prude 

Finds  not  free  humour  coarse,  or  nature 
rude. 

Our  recreation  grounds — the  crowd's  re- 
sort, 

For  clean  amusement  and  for  honost  sport, 


Free  but  unbrutal,  eager  and  elate, 
With    aims    above    the    wager    and    the 

"  gate  "— 
Are  the  State's  special  charge.     Our  sages 

think 

How  to  undemonize  that  Dagon,  Drink; 
So  that  a  Martian  may  at  ease  recline, 
Like    a    Greek    guest     heart-warmed     by 

generous   wine, 

Sober  and  graceful  on  his  ale-house  bench, 
Safe  from  the  frenzy  of  a  poisoned  drench. 
For  locomotion?  Well,  my  Punchius, 

Mars, 

In  spinning  cycles  and  swift  autocars. 
Is  far  ahead  of  Terra.     Wheels  and  wings 
With  us  are  ancient  and  familiar  things. 
At  earthly  travelling  Vy  road  or  rail, 
All  Martian  vocabularies  fail 
To  voice  the  Martian  marvel! 

As  for  dress, 
Your  trousers,  your  top  hat!  Gods!  How 

express 
Our   pity   for   your    miseries?     Would   a 

vote 

Perpetuate  your  preposterous  dress-coat  ? 
Our  dress  flows  to  the  figure,  light,  yet 

warm, 

And  the  divinity  of  the  human  form 
Disguises  not,  as  with  you  men,  so  that 

you 

Dare  not  invest  a  hero  in  a  statue 
With  what  he  wore  whilst  living ! 

We  don't  choke 
Our  lungs    with    wasted    fuel,    miscalled 

smoke, 
Our  old  Smoke-Gnome  proves  worthy   of 

his  hire, 
Subdued   and  shackled    wholly    by    King 

Fire. 
Our  woman  's  natural,  and,  though  young, 

not  new, 
Winsome,  well-dressed,  and  not  a  scraggy 

shrew, 

She  dotes  on  Cupid,  worships  Hymen  still, 
Though  healthy  of  physique  and  strong  of 

will. 

In  fact,  in  Mars,  Venus  is  quite  at  home, 
And  welcomes  bathing  beauty  to  her  foam 
In  freedom  with  decorum.     Art  with  us 
Is  healthy,  sweet,  aspiring;  fad  and  fuss, 
Neurotic  nastiness,  and  sordid  grime 
She    drives   from   her,    as   things  of  dusk 

and  slime 
Are  banished  by  the  dawn. 

You,  Punchius  mine, 
Are   the  Earth's   male  Aurora.     Rise  and 

shine ! 

With  a  redoubled  lustre  sun  your  stars, 
Helped  on,  it  may  be,  by  these  mems  from 

Mars! 


FASHIONS  FOR  JULY.  —  Grand  Jubilee 
Celebration  universally  observed.  Every- 
thing a  la  reine  immensely  and  .iustly  in 
favour.  Uniform  de  rigueur  and  loyalty 
worn  in  the  heart.  All  the  fashions  of 
1887  revived  with  increased  success.  The 
population  of  London  rises  to  six  millions 
of  well-dressed  enthusiasts.  National  de- 
monstration garnished  with  the  heartiest 
applause  imaginable.  Weather  "Queen's 
brand,"  and  consequently  delightful. 

FASHIONS  FOR  AUGUST.  —  Seaside  in  fa- 
vour. Ocean  appears  with  a  thick  fringe 
of  bathers.  England,  Scotland,  Ireland, 
and  Wales  served  &  VAmericaine.  Anglo- 
Saxon  only  spoken,  with  a  British  accent, 
in  France,  Italy,  Germany,  and  Switzer- 
land. Tourist  suits  worn  out  on  moun- 
tains. Innkeepers  appear  in  habits  a  la 
brigand.  Cycles  disappear  from  Battersea 
and  Knightsbridge  to  decorate  the  roads 
of  Belgium,  Sweden,  Norway,  and  Hol- 
]and.  Weather  intolerable  to  toilers  left 
in  town. 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


*'•       ;•.;•;& 


V'1»-?/>  ^S 

lij&& 


A     MESSAGE     FROM     MARS. 
A  GLIMPSE  BY  OUR  Owx  ASTRONOMER  OF  THISOS  BETTER  MANAGED  is  THAT  PLASBT. 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


THE    FESTIVE    SEASON    IN    ANCIENT    EGYPT. 

A  LITTLE  MARKETING  IN  THE  NINEVEH  NEW  ROAT-. 


CHRISTMAS    IN    ANCIENT    EGYPT. 

A  FEW  FRIENDS  AT  MRS.  MEMNON'S. 


THE    CHRISTMAS-BOX    IN     ANCIENT     EGYPT. 

IT  WAS  QUITE  AN   INSTITUTION   THEN. 


FASHIONS  FOE  SEPTEMBER.  —  Stubble 
much  worn.  Retrievers  and  pointers  both 
in  fashion.  Big  bags  added  to  leggings 
adopted  by  many  prominent  sportsmen. 
Hot  luncheons  garnished  with  country 
lanes  to  be  found  mid-day  mostly  in  Eng- 
land. Nauseous  waters  mixed  with 
Society  scandals  in  favour  at  Horn- 
burg  and  other  foreign  health  resorts. 
Harrogate  and  Bath  largely  patronised 
by  both  Henry  and  'Arry.  Weather  a 
matter  of  slight  moment  to  any  one  "  do- 
ing the  cure  "  anywhere. 


HISTORY  CORRECTED.  —  The  1st  of  the 
fifth  month  is  "  May  Day,"  but  according 
to  tradition,  the  13th  is  the  proper 
date  for  the  holding  of  the  festival.  The 
mot  "that  the  controversy  ab.ut  the  two 
May  Days  caused  him  amazement"  is 
attributed  erroneously  to  Oliver  Cromwell. 
It  was  really  the  invention  of  Dr.  John- 
son. The  pun  encrusted  in  the  saying  is 
the  solitary  jeu  d'esprit  that  has  come 
down  to  us  testifying  to  the  wit  that  is 
believed  to  have  been  so  marked  a  charac- 
teristic of  the  great  lexicographer. 


FASHIONS  FOR  OCTOBER.- — Long  Vaca- 
tion goes  out  of  fashion  in  London.  Silk 
and  stuff  gowns  much  en  evidence  at  the 
Law  Courts  on  the  26th  and  after.  Wigs 
on  the  Green  in  Dublin  and  on  the  heads 
of  Briefed  and  Briefless  at  Strand  Palace 
of  Justice.  Company  "ads"  once  more  the 
fashion  in  the  newspaper  offices  of  Fleet 
Street.  Weather  in  London  not  quite  up 
to  the  standard  form  of  Italy  and  further 
South.  

BAD  JOKE  FOR  JULY. — Passing  the  Esti- 
mates. 


BAD    JOKE    FOB    MAY.  —  Backing     the 
"  wrong'un  "  for  the  Derby. 


BAD  JOKE  FOR  JCNE. — (Give  no)  Quarter       BAD    JOKE    FOR    ACGUST. — Shooting  on 
day.  the  moors  with  a  beginner. 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


- 


THE     MILTONIC     CYCLIST. 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


"SEATED  OXE  BAY  ON  THE  ORGAX,  I  WAS  WEARY  AND  ILL  AT  EASE  ! 


A    DAY    IN    THE    LIFE    OF    AN 
JP-TO-DATE    DOG. 

IN  the  evening,  as  it  seems  to-day 
is  try  birthday,  I  entertain  a  few  intimate 
friends  at  tea.  Not  a  very  successful 
party,  somehow.  Frisette  put  her  foot  into 
my  saucer,  and  wolfed  up  all  the  apricot 
sandwiches  —  which  got  on  my  nerves. 
Goggles  and  I  had  a  little  difference  about 
the  last  macaroon.  As  his  host,  I  suppose 
it  would  have  been  in  better  taste  not  to 
make  my  teeth  meet  in  the  curl  of  his 
tail ;  but  no  one  knows  how  provoking  a 
pug  can -be,  till  he  's  tried  ! 

One  stuck-up  little  terrier  tried  to  show 
off  by  sitting  up  and  nursing  a  rag  doll 
between  his  forepaws,  which  was  really 
more  than  I  could  stand! 

The  party  broke  up  rather  prematurely, 
in  a  general  row,  after  which  I  discovered 
that  my  black  satin  dress-coat  with  the 
rose-coloured  lining  was  torn  all  down  the 
back.  I  shall  never  be  able  to  wear  it 
again ! 

To  bed,  heavy  and  depressed,  feeling 
tired  of  life,  and  much  troubled  at  night 
by  biliousness,  which  is  all  the  Old  Lady's 
fault  for  not  keeping  a  French  cook.  The 
sort  of  slops  Mrs.  Harricoe  sends  up  are 
enough  to  ruin  any  dog's  constitution! 

Ah  well,  some  day — when  they  have 
lost  me — they  '11  be  sorry  they  didn't  study 
me  a  little  more ! 


BAD     JOKE     FOR     SEPTEMBER. — Goose's 
Quarter  day. 


GRATITUDE. 

Dismounted  Swell  (to  kindhearted  Sportsman).   '"PoN  MY  WORD,  I'M  AWFULLY  OBLIGED!     BUT -I  SAY    WILL  YOU  COME  AND 

HELP   ME   LOOK    FOR   MY    EYEGLASS  ? " 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


WEIGHT, 

SHE 

BEFORE,    80  SHE  's  SURE  TO   BK  A   BIT  NERVOUS   AT   FIIIST  ;    AND   MIND  YOU  STEADY   HER  AT  THB  JVHPS,    AS  SHE  's  APT~TO   EUhH 

AND  I  WOULDN'T  TAKE  HER  TOO  NEAR  OTHER  PEOPLE,  AS  SHE  HAS  A  NASTY  TEMPER,  AND  KNOWS  HOW  TO  USB  HER  HEELS  ;  AND, 

WHATEVER  YOU  DO,  DON'T   LET   HER  GET  YOU   DOWN,  OR  SHE  'LL  TEAR   YOU  TO   PIECES.      THE  LAST  MAN   THAT  RODE  HEK   IS   IN   HOSPITAL 
NOW.       HUT   KKKF  YOUR  EYE   OS   HBR.    AND   REMEMBER   WHAT   I  'VB  SAID.    AND   YOU  ~LL   BE  ALL   RIGHT  !  "  [CmuUnuUum  of  Perk*. 


A  WISH. 

(By  a  Wild  Wheelman.     A  long  way  after 
Rogers. ) 

MINB  be  a  "  scorch  "  without  a  spill, 
A  loud  "  hike  "  bell  to  please  mine  ear  ; 

A  chance  to  maim,  if  not  to  kill, 
Pedestrian  parties  pottering  near. 

My  holloa?  e'er  my  prey  I  catch, 

Shall  raise  wild  terror  in  each  breast ; 

If  luck  or  skill  that  prey  shall  snatch 
From  my  wild  wheel,  the  shock  will  test. 

On  to  the  bike  beside  my  porch 

I  '11  spring,  like  falcon  on  its  prey. 

And  Lucy,  on  her  wheel  shall  "  scorch," 
And  "  coast "  with  me  the  livelong  day. 

To  make  old  women's  marrow  freeze 
Is  the  best  sport  the  bike  has  given. 

To  chase  them  .as  they  puff  and  wheeze, 
On  rubber  tyre — by  Jove,  'tis  heaven ! 


FASHIONS  FOB  NOVEMBER.  —  Fog  a  la 
mode  du,  potage  des  pois.  Guys  out  of 
fashion  in  the  streets,  but  discoverable  in 
patients  suffering  from  influenza.  Doctors 
appear  in  all  directions.  Prescriptions 
made  up  for  immediate  use.  Lord  Mayor 
shows  m  the  thoroughfares,  and  Prime 
Minister  in  Guildhall. 


BAD    JOKE   FOR    OCTOBER. — Commence- 
ment of  the  fifth-rate  novel  season. 


ARTIST  AND   CRITIC. 

McCranky.    An  longa  eit! 
The  O'Quiz.        I  see,  my  dear  McCranky 
That    why    you   make   your  ladies  all  so 
lanky? 


INEVITABLE    CHRISTMAS 
of  the  goose  and  turkey. 


BILLS.  —  Those 


FATHER  CHRISTMAS  KOT  UP-TO-DATE. 


ENCORE  VEBSES  TO  THE  NATIONAL 
ANTHEM. 

(For  the  Year  1897,  the  60th  of  rietoria's  reiyn.) 

GOD  save  our  gracious  Queen  I 
Sixty  years'  rule  she 's  seen 

As  England's  Queen. 
Victoria,  victorious! 
Gentle  as  glorious  I 
Long  still  reign  over  us ! 

Our  noblest  Queen  1 

Should  storms  of  war  arise, 
Grant  that  clear,  cloudless  skies 

Still  may  be  seen 
Over  her  well-loved  isle  I 
From  foreign  wrath  or  guile 
Still  may  kind  Heaven's  smile 

Guard  our  good  Queen  I 


WOE  ON  THE  WHEEL. 
THERE  was  a  "  scorching  "  girl,  who  came 

down  an  awful  purl, 
And  scarified  her  nose,  and  scarred  her 

forehead. 
She  thought,  when  first  she  rode,  biking 

very,  very  good, 
But  now  she  considers  it  horrid! 


BAD    JOKE    FOR    NOVEMBER.  —  Triumph 
(mental  and  physical)  of  fog. 

BAD  JOKE  FOR  DECEMBEB. — The  end  of 
the  year. 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


NEW  SPORTING  DICTIONARY  OF  FAMILIAR  LATIN  PHRASES. 


*.V.W  fc^*..*^  . 


I. — SUA   CUIQUE  VOLUPTAS.      (EvKRY  OSE  HAS  HIS   OWN   PLEASURE.) 


AUNT  TABITHA  ON  OLD  PARLIAMENTARY 
WAYS  AND  NEW. 

LETTER  IV. — On  Choosing  a  Leader. 

DEAR  CHARLES  EDWARD, — I  suppose  one 
of  your  earliest  duties  when  you  have 
taken  your  seat  in  the  House  of  Commons 
will  be  to  select  a  leader.  I  do  not  pro- 
fess to  be  well  up  in  information  about 
the  present  degenerate  House  of  Commons. 
From  what  I  gather,  I  fancy  you  will  not 
be  embarrassed  by  lack  of  the  commodity. 
Of  course,  a  Penley  will  be  guided  by  Prin- 
ciple, and  you  can  serve  only  under  a  Tory. 

I  am  told,  that  now  my  old  friend  Ca- 
vendish-Bentinck  (not  little  Ben,  but 
Big  Ben)  is  dead,  and  Herbert  Knatch- 
bull  -  Hugessen  (whom  I  knew  in  Eton 
jacket)  has  retired  from  the  Parliamentary 
scene  in  disgust,  there  is  only  one  Tory 
in  the  House.  That  is  Mr.  James  Lew- 
ther,  known  to  his  friends  as  "Jemmy." 
Circumstances  never  favoured  him  with 
the  opportunity  of  being  presented  to  me, 
but,  oddly  enough,  I  have  a  copy  of  his 
portrait.  It  is  a  result  of  the  process  we 
used  to  call  daguerreotype.  The  thing  is 
now,  I  believe,  known  as  a  "  photograph." 
Walking  one  day  in  Canterbury,  I  hap- 
pened to  see  it  in  a  shop  window.  I  confess 
that  at  first  I  thought  it  was  some  dignitary 
of  the  Church,  a  canon,  perchance  a  dean. 
There  was  about  the  countenance  that  re- 
poseful, dignified,  yet  chastened  expres- 
sion we  instinctively  connect  with  the 
Church.  It  was  only  when  I  proposed  to 
purchase  the  unpretentious  work  of  art, 
that  I  was  told  that  it  was  a  portrait  of 
the  Right  Hon.  James  Lowther,  Member 
for  one  of  the  divisions  of  the  county. 

That,  by  the  way.  I  merely  mention  it 
as  showing  how  a  certain  personality 
struck  me  when,  in  ignorance  of  identity, 
I  looked  upon  his  portrait  for  the  first 
time.  From  all  I  hear  it  was  not  a  bad 
guess  of  mine.  Circumstances  have  acci- 
dentally directed  Mr.  Lowther's  steps  into 
other  paths.  But  he  would  have  been 
more  at  home  in  a  quiet  deanery  than 
amid  the  turmoil  of  political  life. 

In  this  connection  there  is  another 
Member  I  should  like  you  to  know, 
though,  of  course,  on  quite  other  terms. 
It  is  Sir  William  Harcourt.  His  politics 
are  atrocious,  but  his  grandfather  was  an 
archbishop.  He,  too,  one  can  imagine, 
might  have  risen  to  high  estate  had  he 
followed  in  the  steps  of  his  father, 
sometime  Canon  of  York.  I  admit  it  is 
probable,  that  had  Sir  William  been  a 
bishop,  there  would  have  been  exceptional 
mortality  amongst  the  curates  of  his  dio- 
cese. But  curates  are  constitutionally 
timorous. 

However,  that  again  is  nothing  to  do 
with  your  associating  yourself  with  a 
statesman  of  first  rank  in  your  Parliamen- 
tary relations.  Mr.  Lowther  would  be  a 
safe  guide,  and  is,  I  am  given  to  under- 
stand, not  undesirous  of  forming  a  party. 
During  the  last  session  his  followers  num- 
bered only  one.  I  forget  whether  it  was 
Sir  Albert  Rollit  or  Sir  Elias  Bashmead- 
Artlett.  Your  anxious  aunt, 

TABITHA  PLINLIMMON  PENLEY. 

The  Grange,  Easthnpe,  Kent. 


II.— NK  PLUS  ULTRA.     (THE  UTMOST  POINT.) 


FASHIONS  FOR  DECEMBER.  —  Children's 
school  boxes  in  the  halls.  Holly,  mistle- 
toe, cards,  game,  crackers,  annuals,  alma- 
nacks, presents,  toys,  turkey,  roast  beef, 
mince  pies  and  plum  puddings  in  evidence 
everywhere.  Weather  seasonable  and  con- 
sequently suggestive  (whatever  it  may  be) 
of  "a  Happy  Christmas  and  a  Prosperous 
New  Year." 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


AFTER     TILE     PERFORMANCE. 

Rupert  the  Reckless  v  Tompkins,  a  distinguished  amiteur  from  Town).   "Now,   I  CALL  IT  A  BEASTLY  SHAME,  JKNKIXS  ;   YOU  HAVIN'T 

ORDERED  THAT  BRUTE  OF  YOURS  OFF  MY  ToOS,  AND  YOU  KNOW  I  CAN'T  GO  BACK  TO  THE  INN  LIKE  THIS!" 


Mamma  (finishing  up  a  Lecture  on  deportment  at  Christmas  ffstiriti,:i). 
"  AND,  DESMOND  DEAR.  DO  REMEMBER  THAT  FINGERS  WEI:E  MADE 
BEFORE  FORKS." 

Desmond  (anxious  to  be  o/,  and  considerably  bored).  "  NOT  MINE,  MA!" 


IN    A    NOVEMBER    FOG. 

Frenchman  (nist  arrived  on  his  ,/frrf  visit  to  London).    "HA,  HA!  MT 
FRIEN',  NOW  I  TNDKKSTAS'  vor  YOU  MEAN  VKN  YOU  SAY  ZB  SUN 

NKV.UI1E   SET   IN    VOl'K   DOMINION,    MA   FOI  !      IT  DOES  HOT  RISX .'" 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


KNOCKED     'EM    IN     THE     OLD     GHENT     ROAD. 

(A  Sketch  in  Belgium. ) 


Customer.   "HAVE  YOU  GOT  ANY  GUINEA  FOWLS?" 

New  Apprentice.   "  WELL,  MUM,  THEY  GENERALLY  RUN  ABOUT  FIVE-AN'-SIX— BUT  (thinking  he  can  do  a  good  stroke  of  business)  VERY 

GLAD  TO   OBLIGE  YOU  AT    TOUR  PRICE,    MUM  !  " 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


THE     ENTERPRISING     TEUTON.     (A  Sketch  in  a  London  Suburb.) 


THE     PROBLEM. 

Samuel.  "MUVVER,  DOES  A  HEN  LAY  AN  EGG  WHEN  IT 
OR  ircsr  IT  ?" 


GAME. 

New  Servant  (to  Cook).   "OH  NO,  YOU  DON'T  !     IT  MAY  BE  MY  FIRST 

PLACE,  BUT  YOU  DON'T  MAKE  A  FOOL  OF  ME,  STICKING  THEM  FKA- 
THERS  INTO  THE  BIRD,  AN'  KXPECTINO  ME  TO  TAKE  IT  UPSTAIRS  JUST 
TO  BE  LAUGHED  AT  !  " 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1897. 


NEW  SPORTING  DICTIONARY  OF  FAMILIAR  LATIN  PHRASES. 


III.— LOCUM   TEKEKS.      (A  SUBSTITUTE.) 

v 
<Vl 

N    A\  OX 


IV.— OTIUM  CUM  DIGNITATB.    (RETIREMENT  WITH  DIGNITY.)] 


AUNT  TABITHA  ON  OLD  PARLIAMENTARY 
WAYS  AND  NEW. 

LETTER  V. — Some  General  Axioms. 
MY  DEAR  CHARLES  EDWAKD, — I  confess 
I  spent  a  wretched  night  thinking  of  the 
temptation   that   will   soon  surround   ray 


dear  brother's  only  child.  Isn't  there  a 
man  in  the  House  of  Commons  called  John 
Burns?  He  may  hare  been  christened 
John,  but  I  think  that  I  have  heard  that 
he  was  nicknamed  Burns,  because,  when 
apprenticed  to  a  palliasse  manufacturer, 
he  set  fire  to  the  straw  and  burnt  the 


house  down.  I  may  be  wrong.  But  that 
is  my  impression.  I  am  sure  there  was 
something  about  a  palliasse  ;  or  was  it  a 
door-knocker  ?  Anyhow,  he 's  a  dema- 
gogue, and  I  would  not  trust  a  demagogue 
with  a  box  of  matches,  even  if,  in  accord- 
ance with  maudlin  modern  fashion,  they 
strike  only  on  the  box. 

I  do  not,  for  a  moment,  fancy  you  will 
be  brought  into  personal  contact  with  this 
person,  or  any  like  him.  Thank  Heaven 
.vou  will  always  vote  in  the  other  lobby. 
Even  that,  when  I  come  to  think  of  it,  is 
not  certain.  Statesmen,  as  your  dear 
grandfather  used  to  say,  must  work  with 
any  tools  that  come  to  hand.  I  can  con- 
ceive circumstances  or  tactics  in  which  so 
astute  a  Parliamentary  Hand  as  Mr. 
James  Lowther  might  have  to  form  tem- 
porary alliances  with  all  kinds  of  sections. 
For  your  own  part,  dear  Charles,  let  them 
be  strictly  temporary,  and  go  straight 
home  as  soon  as  the  House  is  up,  or  even 
before. 

In  your  dear  grandfather's  time,  except 
when  they  were  passing  the  Catholic  Re- 
lief Bill,  or  wrangling  over  the  Reform 
Bill,  Members,  as  I  have  said,  dined  de- 
cently at  home.  Now,  I  believe,  they 
never  adjourn  till  midnight,  and  some- 
times sit  up  all  night.  In  case  of  late 
sittings — at  least,  to  begin  with — I  wish 
Mr.  Lowther  would  see  you  home.  Un- 
der such  guidance  I  should  feel  no  anxiety 
for  my  dear  nephew. 

Now  you  are  in  the  House  you  must 
make  a  mark  in  it.  Begin  by  scorning  to 
ba  satisfied  with  anything  below  the  rank 
of  Prime  Minister,  and  you  may  rise  to 
the  status  of  Civil  Lord  of  the  Admiralty. 
Above  all  things,  don't  be 

An  haberdasher  of  small  wares 
In  politicks  and  State  affairs. 
I'll  wager  you  don't  know  where  that 
couplet   comes  from?    No.     The   present 
generation     does     not     read     Hudibras. 
You  '11  find  the  lines  there,  and  also  this 
description  of  a  bore  of  the  Rump  Parlia- 
ment whom  Charles  the  Second,  of  blessed 
memory,  kicked  out  of  Westminster : 
Still  his  tongue  ran  on,  the  less 
Of  weight  it  bore,  with  greater  ease, 
And  with  its  everlasting  clack 
Set  all  men's  ears  upon  the  rack. 
With  volleys  of  eternal  babble 
And  clamour  more  unanswerable. 
It   appears   that,   with  the  possible   ex- 
ceptions of  the  Parliaments  in  which  your 
dear  grandfather  sat,  the  House  of  Com- 
mons has  been  pretty  much  the  same  from 
the   Commonwealth   to   the    present    day. 
I  hope  my  only  nephew  will  do  something 
to  raise  its  status,   bringing  it  nearer  to 
its  glorious  position  before  it  was  tainted 
with   the   brush  of   Free  Trade,    Reform, 
Disestablishment,   and   the   other   plagues 
that  have  fallen  upon  the  country — I  won't 
say   because  of,   or   as  a   punishment   for, 
but    certainly    subsequent    to,    the    efface- 
ment  of  your  dear  grandfather  from  the 
Parliamentary  arena,  and  the  destruction 
of  a  faithful  constituency  that  was  ready 
to  share  his  last  guinea. 

Your  affectionate  aunt, 
TABITHA  PLINLIMMON  PBNLKT. 
The  Grange,  Easthope,  Kent. 
P-S. — I  hear   the   very    best  things    of 
Toby,  M.P.,  who  sits  for  Barks,  a  most 
respectable  county.     A  model  husband,  a 
kind  father,   a  good  citizen.     You  might 
do  worse  than  cultivate  his  acquaintance. 


A  SEASONABLE  DIPLOMATIST. — Mr.  Christ- 
mas is  Consul-General  for  Servia.  Could 
he  not  settle  matters  satisfactorily  with 
Turkey  ? 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK    FOR    1807. 


AMATEUR     TABLEAUX    VIVANTS.— No.  II. 

THE  MOST  EFFECTIVE  REPRESENTATION  OF  "CROMWELL  DISSOLVING  THE  LONG  PARLIAMENT"  WAS  UNFORTUNATELY  MARRED  BY 
AN  ACCIDENT  TO  THE  CURTAIN,  WHICH  SUDDENLY  SLIPPED  AND  RESTED  ON  THE  HEAD  OF  POOP  CAPTAIN  SNIFFLKT  (OF  THE 
VOLUNTEERS).  THIS  WAS  TUB  MOHK  TO  BE  RFORETTF.D  AX  HE  WAS  IN  HOPES  OF  Miss  TOOTLES  LOOKING  FAVOURABLY  ox  ins  SUIT 


A     MEDIEVAL     SPORT.       (Design  for  Goblin  Tapestry.) 


PUNCH'S    ALMANACK   FOR    1897, 


THE     FIRST     FOOT. 

EKTEU  Mr..  PUNCH,  WHO  WISHES  EVERYONE  "A  MERRY  CHRISTMAS  AND  A  HAPPY  NEW  YEAB  ! ' 
"  The  first  foot  in  a  house  brings  good  or  ill-luck  for  the  year." — Old  Belief. 


JANUARY  2,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


THE  LATEST  ART  NOTES. 

["An  exhibition  is  shortly  to  be  opened  of  drawings  and  paintings  by 
ehudrou  under  fifteen  years  of  age."] 

THE  Academy   picture   of  Master  THOMAS  TITTLEBAT  is  now 
nearly  completed,  and  it  is  certain  to  prove  one  of  the  master- 


form  prominent  parts  of  its  colour-scheme.  A  farge  cloud  of 
smoke  is  issuing  from  his  rifle,  and,  by  a  brilliant  piece  of  poetic 
imagination,  the  bullet  (represented  by  a  brown  blot)  is  depicted 
as  visible  to  the  sight  as  it  whistles  through  the  air.  Beneath 
the  picture  is  the  inscription,  in  Prussian  blue,  "This  iss  a 
Soldger." 

WE  are  glad  to  say  the  indisposition  of  Miss  ANGELINA  SNOOKS 
is  less  serious  than  it  was  at  first  reported  to  be.  This  talented 
young  lady,  whose  representations  of  windmills  are  so  justly 
popular,  attempted,  in  a  moment  of  aberration,  to  eat  a  cake  of 
gamboge.  Fortunately  her  nurse  was  able  to  interrupt  the  meal, 
and  it  is  hoped  that  in  a  few  days'  time  she  will  be  completely 
restored  to  health. 

IT  is  said,  on  good  authority,  that  Master  WILLIAM  JENKINS  is 
likely  to  be  appointed  to  the  Slade  Professorship,  at  present 
vacant.  Some  of  the  critics,  while  admitting  his  claims  on  other 
grounds,  are  inclined  to  demur  to  his  election  on  the  score  of  his 
advanced  ago.  It  is  true  that  Master  JENKINS  has  passed  his 
fourteenth  birthday,  and  that  therefore  his  best  work  must  neces- 
sarily lie  behind  him.  Still,  his  brilliant  course  of  lectures  on 
The  Art  of  Caricature,"  and  his  portraits  of  schoolmasters  (exe- 
cuted in  chalk,  on  wooden  palings)  seem  to  point  him  out  as  one 
eminently  qualified  for  the  post,  and  it  is  said  that  Messrs.  WATTS 
and  BURNS-JONES  are  extremely  anxious  to  take  lessons  from  him. 

BRITISH  sculpture  is  decidedly   looking  up.     We  have  rarely 
seen  finer  specimens  of  the  art  than  the  mud-pies  recently  de-  ! 
signed  by  Master  PHIDIAS  BROWN.     Should  the  season  permit,  it 
is  understood  that  this  clever  sculptor  will  produce  a  colossal 
figure  in  snow  during  his  Christmas  holidays. 


ALL  those  who  value  artistic  decoration  in  their  homes  should 
not  fail  to  read  the  lately-published  volume,  entitled,  Practical 
Hints  on  the  Adornment  of  the  Nursery,  with  special  reference  to 
the  Use  of  Chroma-lithographs  from  the  Illustrated  Papers.  The 
distinguished  authoress  is  already  well-known,  by  reason  of  her 
brochure  on  the  furnishing  of  dolb'-houses. 

IT  is  curious  to  notice  how  variable  are  the  prices  obtained  in 
the  auction-marts  for  the  work  of  our  best  artists.  For  instance, 
an  original  study  in  slate  pencil  by  that  celebrated  artist  Master 
WILLIAM  DOBBIN — executed,  too,  in  his  prime,  when  he  was  seven 
years  old — fetched  only  twenty  guineas,  at  CHRISTIE'S,  last  week, 
while  his  "  Portrait  of  an  Elephant  "  realised  double  that  amount 
less  than  a  year  ago. 

THE  Philistinism  of  parents  is  almost  beyond  belief.  It  is  said 
that  while  Master  HENRY  RAPHAEL  was  engaged  the  other  day 
in  decorating  his  father's  drawing-room  wall-paper  with  cartoons 
painted  in  vermilion,  that  ignorant  gentleman  not  only  inter- 
rupted the  artist's  work,  but  even  put  him  to  severe  physical 
pain  as  a  reward  for  his  industry  1  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the 
Council  of  the  Academy  will  prosecute  this  barbarous  parent,  and 
that  he  will  thus  reap  the  punishment  which  he  so  richly  deserves. 


On  the  Bourse. 

Wigsby.  I  'm  seriously  thinking  of  going  in  for  one  of  these 
new  motor-cars. 

Grigsby.  Much  better  stick  to  your  old  public  vehicle. 

ll'igsby  (taken  >i nawares) .  My  old  public  vehicle!  What's 
that? 

Grigsby.  The  promoter  trap,  of  course ! 

[Vanishes  into  Capel  Court. 

At  Florence. 

First  Tourist.  Hullo !  BARKINS,  what  brought  you  here  ? 

Second  Tourist  (facetiously).  The  railway,  of  course.  And 
you? 

First  Tourist  (getting  mixed,  but  thinking  he  has  his  friend). 
My  wife's  wish  to  see  the  Leaning  Tower  of  Pisa ! 


VOL.  cxn. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  2,  1897. 


OUR    OPENING    DAY! 

Lord  S-l-sb-ry.  Now,  MR.  PUNCH,  A  SHAKSPEAKIAN  TOAST  FOR  THE  NEW  YEAR  ! 

Mr.  Punch.  AT  YOUR  PLEASURE,  "RENOWNED  SALISBURY."  "DR.  JIM"  is  OUT  OF  PRISON,  BUT  NOT  OUT  OF  DANGER;  TWO 
OTHERS  HAVE  FULFILLED  THEIR  TERM.  THEN  WHY  NOT  MAKE  THE  OPENING  OF  THE  NEW  YEAR  THE  OPENING  DAY  OF  THE  PRISON 
GATES  TO  THE  OTHERS,  AND,  NOT  IN  TERMS  OF  QUESTION,  BUT  OF  CHARITY,  EXCLAIM,  WITH  KINO  HENRY  THE  FOURTH, 

'PARDON    AND   TERMS    OF    LOVE   TO    ALL    OF    YOU!" 


JANUARY  2,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


THROWN    OUT. 

1  First  Lady  (to  Friend,  who  has  just  ridden  across  a  field  of  young  grass  to  ask  directions  of  a  Farmer).  "  DID  HE  TELL  YOU  WHERE  TO  oo  ? " 
\SecondLady.  "YES,   HE  DID.     AND  IF  YOU  oo  OVER  HE'LL  TELL  YOU,  TOO!" 


PROVINCIAL  SKETCHES. 

No.  VII.— JANE 

OH,  for  honeyed  words  and  phrases  to  describe  the  subtle  graces 
That  distinguish  her  from  all  the  crowd  profane  I 

Oh,  for  painter's  fairy  palette  or  the  sculptor's  magic  mallet 
To  immortalise  the  charms  of  pretty  JANH  I 

'Neath  her  silky  drooping  lashes  there 's  a  hazel  eye  that  flashes 
Where  the  sunshine  seems  to  sparkle  through  the  rain ; 

For  the  Farmer's  winsome  daughter  is  a  gem  of  purest  water, 
And  the  countryside  is  proud  of  pretty  JAMB. 

It  is  striking,  very  striking,  what  a  number  have  a  liking 
For  the  Farmer,  and  come  tramping  down  the  lane  ; 

For  the  road  is  long  and  dusty,  and  the  Farmer's  somewhat 

crusty, 
And  has  nothing  of  the  charm  of  pretty  JANE. 

Nay,  the  gouty  red-faced  Majors,  and  the  oldest  of  old-stagers, 

Hobble  all  the  weary  way  and  back  again, 

And  they  do  not  grudge  the  trouble,  and  they  would  not,  were  it 
double, 

Just  to  catch  a  passing  glimpse  of  pretty  JANE. 

For  'tis  better  far  than  nipping  in  the  Club,  to  see  her  tripping 
Through  the  farmyard,  singing  softly  some  refrain, 

While  the  purring  Tom,  resplendent  in  a  ribbon,  trots  attendant, 
Tail  erected,  at  the  heels  of  pretty  JANE. 

And  the  pigeons  leave  the  gables  and  the  thatch  upon  the  stables, 
Where  they  love  to  circle  round  the  creaking  vane, 

Till  the  foremost,  growing  bolder,  will  alight  upon  her  shoulder, 
Cooing  gently  as  he  nestles  up  to  .TANK. 

And  the  hens  come  hurry-scurry,  with  their  foolish  noisy  flurry, 

Like  a  lot  of  women  running  for  a  train, 
While  the  bantam,  crowing  loudly,  flaps  his  little  pinions  proudly 

As  he  struts  along  in  front  of  pretty  JANE. 


And  the  clumsy   ducks   come   waddling  from    the   pool   where 
they  Ve  been  paddling 

'Mid  the  water-weeds,  and  eagerly  they  crane, 
As  they  troop  in  order  single  up  the  shelving  bank  of  shingle, 

When  they  hear  the  silver  voice  of  pretty  JANE. 

So  she  moves  about  her  duties  like  a  queen  of  rustic  beauties, 
Till  the  youngsters,  one  would  think,  were  all  insane, 

For  they  take  to  .writing  sonnets  to  the  lavender  sun-bonnets, 
And  the  eyebrows,  and  the  lips  of  pretty  JANE. 

And  the  Majors  homeward  toddle  with  their  gouty  little  waddle, 
Fondly  dreaming  they  are  young  too  once  again, 

And  they  wish  it  had  been  given  them  to  find  the  way  to  heaven, 
For  they  're  sadly  loth  to  part  from  pretty  JANE. 


After  a  Bun  with  the   Quorn. 
(In  the  Train.) 

First  Cavalier.  I  say.  never  chop  your  fox  I 
Second  Cavalier.  And  my  motto  is,  never  stake  your  horse  I 
Facetious  Bagman  (in  corner  of  carriage).  Belong  to  the  Anti- 
Grill-room  League,  I  suppose,  gentlemen ! 

[Awful  silence  for  rest  of  jovrney  to  Leicetter. 

A  Marine  Widower. 

[Old  Harry  and  hia  Wife  were  two  natural  chalkpillars  standing  in  the  §ea 
near  Swanage.  The  recent  gales  hare  swept  the  Wife  away.] 

POOR  Old  Harry  I  at  last  of  your  wife  bereft, 
Poor  Old  Harry  1  for  long  you  were  one  though  twain, 

Poor  Old  Harry !  we  're  thankful  that  you  are  left, 
But  poor  Old  Harry !  you  never  can  marry  again  I 

SARTORIAL.— The  frock  coat  is  said  to  be  doomed.  Probably 
bernuse  the  ladies  have  taken  up  cutaway  jackets.  The  men 
must  follow  suit. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  2,  1897. 


THE    SELFISHNESS    OF    MAN. 

Teddy.  "  AWFULLY  SORRY  ALL  THE  ICES  ARE  DONE— COULD  ONLY 

GET    ONE    FOR    MYSELF.       WlLL    YOU    HAVE    A    MACAROON    AND    SOME 

GINGER- POP?" 


ROUNDABOUT  READINGS. 

(Letters  from  Mr.  R.  to  hit  Nephew  at  Cambridge,  and  to  Others.) 
No.  V.— ADVICE  AS  TO  CHOICE  OF  BOOKS. 

MY  DBAR  JACK,— I  wonder  if  you  still  possess  the  £10  pre- 

Fk?i 1 4.u°  y°u,by  vour  aunt  for  the  purchase  of  books.     Heaven 

)rbid  that  I  should  make  any  imputations  on  your  perfect  moral 

rectitude;    but  I   know   that  the  youngsters  of  my   own  day 

itertained  a  dislike  amounting  almost  to  loathing  for  what  I 
may  term  the  conservation  of  money.  No  flight  of  swallows 
speeding  Southward  ever  went  more  swiftly  than  did  the  shil- 
lings, the  half-crown,  and  the  sovereigns  of  those  cheerful  under- 
graduates. They  scattered  a  bimetallic  shower  with  generous 
hands  over  the  town  of  Cambridge  and  its  surrounding  districts, 
and  for  a  time  lived  at  the  rate  of  £10,000  on  an  allowance  of  not 
more  than  £300.  A  gift  of  £10  for  books  would  have  been  re- 
ceived with  delight,  but  while  the  question  of  how  to  stock  a 
library  was  still  debating,  I  warrant  the  £10  would  have  fled  away 
into  the  Eimgkeit  of  HANS  BREITMANN'S  party.  Then  in  a  burst 
it  remorse  the  books  would  have  been  purchased,  and  the  unpaid 
bill  for  them  would  doubtless  have  been  included  in  the  parcel 
eventually  submitted  to  a  stern  father  for  payment  at  the  end 
of  our  young  friend's  University  career.  That  sounds  horribly 
dishonest,  and  so,  indeed,  it  is,  if  you  consider  it  with  a  proper 
strictness.  But  this  youthful  thoughtlessness  never  considered 
anything  with  strictness,  and  the  result  was  the  misery  to  which 
Mr.  Micawber  was  so  frequent  and  so  gloomy  a  victim  But  the 
lesson  learnt  was  not  without  its  value,  and  I  am  bound  to  add 
that  nearly  all  the  gay  young  squanderers  with  whom  I  have  kept 
in  touch  have  settled  down  into  the  most  complete  financial 
rectitude  and  the  most  perfect  general  respectability  after  their 
bitter  experience  of  pecuniary  disaster  at  the  University.  Many 
of  them,  as  I  know,  thread  the  mazes  of  commerce  with  skill 
and  battle,  non  sine  gloria,  on  the  Stock  Exchange  and  in  banks  ;' 
nor_  does  anyone  venture  to  cast  a  slur  upon  their  fair  fame  or 
their  mercantile  credit.  This  is  not  to  say  that  you  are  to  be  a 
squanderer.  Read  Pendennii,  and  say  if  you  are  anxious  to 


go  through  Pen't  bitter  experience.  Of  what  avail  to  him  was 
his  reputation  as  a  wit  and  a  giver  of  dinners,  how  did  it  profit 
him  that  he  was  magnificently  arrayed  in  clothes  of  beautiful 
cut,  that  his  person  sparkled  with  jewels  when  the  duns  were 
hammering  at  his  oak,  and  the  ruthless  plough  of  the  examiners 
had  passed  over  him?  No;  keep  away  from  extravagance;  live 
decently  and  moderately,  enjoy  your  happy  youth  and  try  to  be 
both  modest  and  manly,  not  merely  in  your  general  bearing,  but 
more  particularly  in  the  control  of  your  finances.  This  advice 
is  probably  useless  to  you,  for  I  understand  that  the  young  men 
of  the  present  day  are  careful  and  methodical,  that  they  keep 
regular  accounts,  and  live  strictly  within  their  incomes.  This 
information,  to  the  strict  accuracy  of  which  I  do  not  pledge 
myself,  came  to  me  from  a  maternal  source,  in  point  of  fact 
from  Mrs.  HOKNBLOWER,  whose  two  sons  are,  I  am  told,  models 
of  propriety  and  regulated  behaviour  in  the  sister  University 
of  Oxford.  You  know  these  two  young  men.  Pray,  pray  re- 
lieve my  mind  by  assuring  me  that  the  ADOLPHUS  HORNBLOWEU 
who  quite  lately  lit  a  bonfire  in  his  College  quadrangle,  and  after- 
wards painted  a  don's  door  vermilion  (I  neard  of  the  escapade  by 
the  merest  chance)  was  not  one  of  these  patterns  of  the  cardinal 
virtues  ? 

And  now  to  be  brief  with  you  as  to  these  books.  Buy,  in  the 
first,  pkce,  books  that  deal  with  noble  actions.  NAPIER'S  history 
of  the  war  in  the  Peninsula  is  such  a  book,  stately,  dignified,  and 
ringing  throughout  with  the  true  heroic  ring.  Who  can  read  it 
without  a  stir  of  the  pulses  and  a  heightened  colour  as  the  magni- 
ficent pageant  of  British  endurance  and  valour  passes  before  his 
eyes.  Then,  lest  you  should  think  that  Britons  only  are  cour- 
ageous and  strong,  take  such  a  book  as  the  Memoirs  of  Baron 
Marbot  (they  are  admirably  translated  by  Mr.  BUTLER),  and  learn 
from  his  story  of  the  Battle  of  Eylau  how  Frenchmen  could  fight 
and  suffer  and  die  for  their  Emperor  and  their  country.  Those 
were  the  great  days,  and  the  figures  that  trod  the  stage  of  life 
were  mighty ;  but  I  think,  should  the  need  arise,  that  the  men 
of  our  own  tome  would  answer  to  the  call  and  bear  themselves 
not  less  worthily.  This  soldier,  MARBOT,  was  a  fighter  from  his 
youth  up.  He  never  played  football,  or  ran  a  three-mile  race, 
or  helped  to  make  a  bump.  Yet  he  could  march,  and  bear 
fatigue,  and  ride  long-distance  rides  with  despatches,  and  fight 
hand  to  hand  like  any  Paladin.  Courage  and  great  deeds  are 
the  private  possession  of  no  particular  age  and  country.  We 
have  no  private  patent  for  them,  though  to  hear  some  of  us  talk 
you  might  think  we  had.  But  this  subject  grows  in  the  writing. 
I  must  revert  to  it  on  another  occasion  if  your  patience  and 
your  money  can  last  for  a  few  days. 

Good-bye,  my  dear  boy,          Your  affectionate  uncle,        BOB. 


THE    NEW    COINAGE. 

OUR  change  is  changed :  the  penny  of  futurity 

Portrays  Britannia  seated  on  the  shore 
Ruling  the  waves  in  prudence,  peace  and  purity, 

As  heretofore. 
But  banished  are  the  lighthouse  and  the  galleon, 

Which  formed  the  old  supporters  of  the  seal ; 
And  now  she  sits  upon  the  large  medallion 
(So  like  a  wheel) 

Alone,  alas !  and  cold  as  any  icicle. 

But,  in  this  land  of  bye-laws,  is  it  right 
Britannia's  self  should  ride  upon  a  bicycle 
Without  a  light  ? 


BLACK  CARE  BEHIND  THE  AUTO-HORSEMAN. 

THE  villagers  were  wild  with  terror.  Every  cottage  was  closed, 
and  the  frightened  occupants  were  huddled  together  in  corners, 
Fearful  of  the  least  sound  that  disturbed  the  awe-stricken  silence. 

Then  there  was  the  sound  of  hissing,  as  if  a  score  of  serpents 
were  in  pursuit  of  some  hunted  rabbit.  The  sibilation,  which 
grew  louder  and  louder,  was  followed  by  the  whirl  of  wheels, 
and  the  faint  perfume  of  petroleum  crept  into  the  village  streets. 

The  noise  increased  in  volume.  And  now  was  heard  loud 
exclamations  of  anger  and  despair.  "  Take  care  of  the  pump  1 " 
cried  one.  "Don't  upset  the  stocks!"  yelled  another.  "Keep 
to  the  right  1 "  "  Keep  to  the  left  1  "  Babel  seemed  to  have  broken 
loose  for  a  moment,  and  then  the  whirring  of  the  wheels  and  the 
hissing  of  the  serpents  decreased  and  died  away. 

"  Hurrah ! "  the  shout  came  from  every  throat.  Shutters 
disappeared  in  a  twinkling,  doors  were  opened  in  a  trice,  and  the 
aboarers  resumed  their  toil.  The  bells  of  the  church  were 
chiming  now  in  token  of  universal  joy. 

For — the  motor-car  had  passed  through  the  village  and  had 
gone  far,  far  away. 


JANUARY  2,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


SPOliTiVE  SONGS. 

A    KoMANTIU  CKNOBlTl.liEfALLS  BYGONE  BLI8B 

ON  f«EW  YEAH'S  DAY  BY  HOME  WELL-RE- 

SJAMIUA.NK.X 


ANOTHER  twelve  months  passed  away, 
And  oh.  1  the  world  it  not  to  yuuuy  1 
l).iy  tollows  night,  and  night  the  day, 
And  ok  1  the  world  it  not  to  young  ! 
Hut  what  are  nights  and  what  are  days, 
Wherein  to  thread  this  mortal  maze, 
When  psalms  are  sung  for  roundelays  ? 
And  oh,  !  the  world  u  not  to  young  ! 

There  wa*  a  time,  when  wine  ran  red, 
And  oh!  the  world  is  not  tu  young! 
Whvu  joyousne&s  and  laughter  led, 

And  oh  1  the  world  it  not  to  young  ! 
'Tu  not  the  space  of  one  abort  year 
That  changes  slowly  mirth  to  fear, 
Or  brings,  instead  of  smiles,  a  tear, 
And  oh!  the  world  it  not  to  young! 

I  held  the  earth  within  my  hand, 

And  oh  1  the  world  it  not  to  young  ! 
Then  tried  to  count  iu  golden  sand, 
But  oh  I  the  world  it  not  to  young! 
And  counting  it  the  decades  flew 
Swift  a*  the  night  of  wild  sea-mew, 
My  grains  of  gold,  how  passing  few  1 
Hat  oh!  the  world  it  not  to  young! 

Each  year  was  but  to  me  a  day, 
Ami  oh  !  the  world  it  not  to  young  ! 

I  reckoned  not  Life's  onward  way, 
And  oh  1  the  world  it  not  to  young  ! 

But  yester-e'en  it  seems  that  here 

The  sky  was  blue,  the  ica  was  clear  — 

To-day  immeasurably  drear, 

And  oh  !  the  world  it  not  to  young  ! 

1  deemed  myself  in  realms  divine, 

But  oh  I  the  world  it  not  to  young! 
When  I  said"  Mine  P  "  you  echoed  "Mine." 

Hut  oh  I  the  world  it  not  to  young! 
Happy  as  children,  our  refrain 
Was  "  Love  !  and  Love  and  Love  again  !  " 
Our  castle  thus  we  built  in  Spain. 
Hat  oh!  the  world  it  not  so  young! 
•  •  •  • 

Across  the  dunes  a  form  I  fix, 

But  oh!  the  world  it  not  to  young! 

With  children  one,  two,  three  —  no  1  six  I 
.But  oh!  the  world  is  not  to  young! 

'TU  you  1  a  matron  grave,  austere, 

An  angel  of  another  sphere  I 

Well  —  here's   Good  Luck,   a  Bright  New 

Year  I 
But  oh  !  the  world  is  not  so  young  ! 


"  SMART  AND  UP-TO-DATE." 

On,  shibboleth  new,  the  sensational  crew 

Are  mouthing  ad  nauseam  daily, 
You  sicken  the  soul  I     When  the  gutter- 
imp  ghoul 

In  crime's  nasty  details  grubs  gaily, 
When  sickening  news  from  the  slums  and 
the  stews 

Reporters  cheap  relate, 
They  're  sure  to  claim  the  equivocal  fame 

Of  "smart  and  up-to-date." 

The   cynic   clap-trap,    the   "  smart "    rag- 

baggish  scrap, 
Tit-bits  to  the  trivial  taste, 
"  Block-ornament "   bits   from    degenerate 

"  wits," 

The  cag-mag  of  art-imps  unchaste  ; 
Gehenna's   foul   gleanings,   impure  double 

meanings, 

That  tickle  the  prurient  pate, 
All  these,  be  sure,  set  forth  the  lure, 
Of  "  smart  and  up-to-date." 


Wv        '      '         .    ~" 


'ULLO,  JIM,  LOOK  'ERK  !    'Em's  A  NOO  STACHOO  !    Lxxo  us  YKK  KNLTB! 


The    unsexed    dame    who    knoweth    not !    j^  church 
shame, 

Who  writes,  or  rides,  or  dresses 
In   fashions   the  oddest,    ungraceful,   im- 
modest, 

And  so  to  mode's  front  proudly  presses, 
On  bikes,  in  books,  with  mannish  looks, 

From  grace  "emancipate," 
Will  pose,  right  proud,  before  the  crowd 

As  "smart  and  up-to-date." 

Oh,   century-end,    may   you    come    as    a 

friend, 

A  " fin-de-siede "  in  truth! 
May  we  make  a  new  start.     May  the  shib- 
boleth "  smart " 

Be  taboo  to  pure  maiden  and  youth. 
For  tie  cynical  grin  at  sly  toying  with 

sin, 

Ghoul-soul  and  apish  pate, 
Are    as    stupid   as    vile,    though    they  've 

swaggered  awhile 
As  "  smart  and  up-to-date  "  I 


on  Christmas  Morning. 

Startled  Sidesman  (with  collection  plate. 
to  Mr.  Grindstone,  who  has  just  whispered 
to  him).  Eh?  What,  Sir? 

Mr.  Grindstone  (still  whispering).  Kindly 
give  me  change  for  a  shilling.  You  can 
pretend  it  's  a  sovereign  I 

[Sidesman  most  justifiably  passes  on. 


and  Mistletoe. 
(A  damsel  rebukes  a  clumsy  dancer,  who  has 

neglected  an  opportunity.) 
I  WOULD  not  say  a  word,  you  know, 

To  cause  you  any  painful  throes, 
But  just  beneath  the  mistletoe 
You  trampled  on  my  misled  toes  I 

Guard  (to  inebriated  traveller,  at  junc- 
tion). Now,  Sir.  all  change,  pleass. 

Traveller  (with  dignity).  D'ye  ken,  mon, 
that  I  've  got  a  return  ticket  ? 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  2,  Ifc97. 


"m'v*  wt  J^  '  « KKADY?      W*LI-.  NOW,  I   WANT  YOU  AND  NuRSE  TO   GO   DOWN   TO  THE  STATION  TO   ORDER  SOME  COALS.' 

T°  BWIN°  THEM>  M£MMY  DKAB?  °H  DKAE  N0-  BARLING  !    THEY  'LL  SEND  THEM  IN  A  CART." 

THAT   BE  JOLLY!      MAY  WE  WIDE   BACK  IN   IT,    MUMMY?" 


A  HAPPY  NEW  YEAR  ! 

MR.  PUNCH  TO  YOUNG  MASTER  NINETY-SEVEN. 

A  HAPPY  New  Year  !     Well,  you  ought  to  be  happy, 

As  sixtieth  one  of  a  glorious  reign  I 
A  chorus  of  cheers  greets  your  advent,  young  chappie, 

And  not  all  for  you,  boy,  so  do  not  be  vain. 
Ihe  Laureate,  ALFRED,  his  lyre  may  be  thrumming 

To  out-Dryden  DBYDEN  in  eloquent  gush, 
Concerning  the  annus  miTabilis  coming. 

And  great  recollections  do  come  with  a  rush  I 
tar  stronger  and  sweeter  than  music  and  metre 

Can  wholly  do  justice  to,  memories  flock 
tromsix  crowded  decades.  Time's  footsteps  seem  fleeter 

Inan  then  in  the  thirties;  more  rapidly  knock 
Time  s  brood  at  our  doorway.     Yet,  young  Ninety-Seven, 

We  welcome  you  gaily  and  banish  poor  Fear  • 
And  wish  all  the  world,  by  the  blessing  of  Heaven 
A  Happy  New  Year  I 


,      God  bless  herl     She  >s  worthy  possessor 
lime  s,  as  of  so  many  records  beside  ; 
And  when,  since  the  days  of  the  gentle  Confessor 

Whose  memory  Westminster  treasures  with  pride 
Had  England  a  monarch  so  stainless  and  stately 

So  patriot-pious  and  selflessly  pure  ? 
Young  Year,  your  good  luck  you  may  chortle  o'er  greatly 

1  our  fame  in  your  sire's  lengthy  list  is  secure 
And  what  a  long  story  of  progress  and  glory 

You  re  heir  to   young  Hopeful  I     The  century's  end 
Is  close  on  your  heels,  for  our  Age  is  grown  hoary  ; 

But  you  will  not  soon  be  forgotten,  young  friend! 
An,d..80..  though  you  come  at  a  critical  season, 

With  decadence  rife,  a  new  century  near 
We  meet  you,  we  greet  you,  and  not  without  reason, 
A  Happy  New  Year  I 

You  Ve  plenty  to  tackle  !    There  's  optimist  cackle 
And  pessimist  croaking  to  hear  and  to  judge  • 

The  welding  of  patriot  bonds  that  won't  shackle 
Divesting  imperial  spirit  of—  fudge  ; 

Make  friends  transatlantic  without  sham  or  antic  • 
Maintain  that  old  Concert,  yet  not  play  Dead-March 


To  simple  humanity  ;  neither  run  frantic 

With  gush,  nor  soul-stiffen  with  diplomat  starch  ; 
Preserve  our  old  sea-sway,  and  keep  the  flag  flying, 

Without  stint  of  money,  or  swaggersome  waste  ; 
With  everyone  friendly,  on  no  one  relying, 

The  empire  up-build  without  rest,  without  haste  ; 
Bind  all  English-speakers  in  cordial  communion  ! 

VICTORIA'S  Sixtieth  then  shall  appear 
To  all  who  love  England,  and  Honour,  and  Union, 
The  Happy  New  Year!!! 


RAILWAY    LIE-ABILITY. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  am  always  fond  of  a  joke,  and  can  hear 
its  repetition,  say,  a  score  of  times,  but  I  am  getting  very  weary 
of  that  good  old  jest  which  meets  the  eye  of  the  traveller  at 
every  railway  station.  It  runs  :  — 

"  Any  servant  of  the  company  accepting  a  GRATUITY  is  liable  to  instant 

Now  for  a  great  many  years  the  directors,  the  guards  the 
porters,  and  the  wayfarers  of  the  United  Kingdom  must  have 
enjoyed  this  jeu  de  mots,  but,  like  the  sandwiches  at  most  re- 


mi/  ui  me  ipany  wno  qion't  neartily  join  issue  with  me 
in  my  ill-doing.  The  liability  is  so  limited,  moreover,  that  I  '11 
venture  to  say  there  isn't  a  ticket-collector  who  wouldn't  gladly 
take  preference  shares  in  the  National  Great  Public  Tipping 
Company.  But  why  make  buffoons  of  those  ever-willing,  hard- 
working, and,  with  very  few  exceptions,  always  courteous  men 
the  rank  and  file  of  the  Railway  Army  P  Now,  Gentlemen  of  the 
Kailway  Interest,  this  is  where  your  common  sense  about  com- 
mon pence  ought  to  come  in  I  At  least  in  the  opinion  of  your 
humble  admirer,  NICODEMUS  THE  PERIPATETIC. 

Qazecook  Chambers,  W . 

MOTTO  FOE  CYCLISTS. 
"  How  many  perils  do  environ 
The  man  who  meddles  with  cold  iron."— Hudibras. 

NOT  YET  OFFICIALLY  RECOGNISED  BY  THE  POBTB. — The  Vale  of 
Crete  to  Turkey. 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— JANUARY  2,  1897. 


Sc 


THE   QUEEN'S  YEAR! 


JANUARY  2,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


I 


["  A  great  grand -daughter  of  FIELDING'S  has  revised  Tom  Jones  for  home  perusal." — Daily  Paptr.] 
Iv  THE  DESCENDANTS  OF  OTHER  LAST-OENTUKY  NOVELISTS  SHOW  THE  SAME  ENTERPRISE,  WE  SHALL  HATE  NURSERY  SCENES  AS  ABOVE. 


OUE  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

HERE  is  Mr.  CLEMENT  SHOHTRE'S  Charlotte  Bronte  and  her 
Circle,  published  by  Messrs.  HODDEB  AND  STOUOHTON.  Now  to 
write  a  lengthy  biography  of  some  celebrity  in  several  volumes 
is  a  laborious  work  tor  the  compiler,  and  likely  to  prove  a  tedious 
study  for  the  reader.  But  here  in  this  book  will  be  found  "  a 
better  and  a  Shorter  way."  Mr.  CLEMENT  SHORTER  shows 
himself  a  man  of  letters  and  notes,  as  he  limits  himself  to  a  col- 
lection of  epistolary  correspondence  (CHARLOTTE  having  been  a 
very  Micawber  in  this  respect),  and  provides  us  with  his  annota- 
tions and  connecting  links  as  side-lighta.  An  odd  sort  of  indi- 
vidual was  CHARLOTTE,  as  is  evidencedT>y  her  occasionally  eccentric 
conduct,  and  by  her  opinions,  as  a  spinster,  on  love  and  marriage 
given  freely  at  p.  305,  which  the  Baron  advises  the  reader  to  com- 
pare with  her  sentiments  on  the  same  subjects  when  subsequently 
writing  as  a  married  woman  at  pp.  492  and  493.  That  she  most 
highly  appreciated  THACKERAY  is  greatly  to  her  credit,  but  that 
she  entertained  only  a  qualified  admiration  for  DICKENS  shows  her 
deficient  in  a  certain  kind  of  humour.  Of  the  works  of  such  hu- 
morists as  HOOD,  HOOK,  the  SMITHS,  BARHAM,  and  others,  she 
seems  to  have  known  little  or  nothing.  TOM  HOOD  would  have 
said  that  in  refusing  an  offer  of  marriage  from  the  Rev.  HENRY 
N  I-SSEY,  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE  might  have  easily  informed  him  that 
"  though  she  would  be  delighted  to  live  in  a  rectory,  yet  she  could 
not  regard  with  equal  pleasure  the  prospect  of  taking  charge  of  a 
Nussey-ry."  She  confided  her  offers  and  what  she  thought  of 
them  to  her  friends  ;  and  very  unsentimental,  nay,  almost  heart- 
less are  her  confidential  communications  on  such  subjects.  Yet 
when  she  was  twenty-five  she  played  the  one  practical  joke  of 
her  life  which  was,  as  she  recounts  it,  that,  being  a  Protestant, 
and  residing  in  Brussels,  she  went  one  evening  to  the  Church  of 
Saint  Gudtile,  and  there  "  an  odd  whim  came  into  my  head,"  she 
writes,  and  she  entered  a  confessional  and  went  to  confession, 
just  "  to  see  what  it  was  like."  However,  she  was  soon  detected, 
and  as,  "  somehow,"  she  writes,  "  I  could  not  tell  a  lie,"  she  owned 
herself  a  Protestant.  Then  she  adds,  "  I  actually  did  confess — a 
real  confession."  "  I  think,"  she  concludeSj  "  you  had  better  not 
tell  Papa  of  this.  He  will  not  understand  it  was  only  a  prank." 
The  above  is  a  strange  episode  in  the  life  of  a  decidedly  serious 
young  woman  of  twenty-five,  in  whom  there  was  no  gush,  as  is 
evidenced  in  her  letter  (p.  174)  on  the  death  of  her  sister  EMILY. 
The  account  of  THACKERAY  escaping  from  his  own  literary  dinner- 


party (p.  422)  is  delightful.  Mr.  SHORTER  has  admirably  exe- 
cuted his  self-imposed  task,  but,  excellent  as  is  the  index  of  the 
BRONTE  Chronology,  the  absence  of  dates  in  the  margin,  and  of 
"  insets'"  as  side-headings,  will  be  felt  by  all  who  wish  to  use  the 
volume  as  a  book  of  handy  and  ready  reference. 

The  Baron  trusts  that  in  the  course  of  time  we  shall 
have  a  hook  on  Lord  LEIGHTON,  and  one  on  Sir  JOHN  MILLAIS, 
as  perfectly  got  up  as  is  the  splendid  work  in  a  single  Urge  volume 
entitled  Meissonier,  hit  Life  and  his  Art,  written  by  M. 
VALLBBY  C.  O.  GREARD,  de  I'Academie  Franfaix,  rict-Rectevr 
de  I' Academic  de  Paris,  and  published  by  WILLIAM  HKINKMANN, 
of  London.  The  style  of  the  biographer  is  as  charming  as  it  is 
easy  and  lucid,  and  from  first  to  last  the  matter  is  made  person- 
ally interesting.  The  reproductions  of  MEISSONIER'S  paintings, 
sketches,  and  scraps  must  delight  all  his  admirers,  and  will  cer- 
tainly add  to  this  legion  a  multitude  that  have  never  had  the 
good  fortune  to  see  the  originals  of  even  his  best-known  highly- 
finished  pictures.  BARON  DB  B.-W. 

SOME  NOTBS  FOB  OUTLINES  OF  ENGLISH  HISTORY. — In  the  sixth 
century  England  was  a  strictly  mathematical  country,  and  its 
inhabitants  were  called  "  Angles."  They  were  divided  into  clever 
or  "  Acute  Angles,"  and  dense  or  "  Obtuse  Angles."  Honest 
natives  were  called  "  Right  Angles."  That  they  often  lived  to  a 
good  old  age  may  be  deduced  from  the  frequent  mention  of  "  An 
Angle  of  ninety-five." 

IT  GOES  WITHOUT  SAYING. — The  Russian  Government  denies 
that  it  is  about  to  establish  a  colony  on  the  Red  Sea.  Of  course 
the  Black  C.  (of  the  Press)  would  not  stand  any  opposition  from 
something  likely  to  be  rfad. 

OUR  SHAKSPEARIAN  SOCIETY. — In  the  course  of  a  discussion, 

Mrs. observed,  that  she  was  positive  that  SHAKSPEAKE  was 

a  butcher  by  trade,   oecause  an  old  uncle  of  hers  had  bought 
Lambs'  Tails  from  Shakspeare. 

REALLY  GENEROUS.. — At  Christmas  time  and  on  New  Year's 
Day,  a  billiard  marker,  who  would  not  like  his  name  made  public, 
preferring  to  "  do  good  deeds  by  stealth,"  invariably  tips  all 
his  cues. 

HAMLET  TO  A  LINER  IN  DOCK. — "List!     List  I     Oh  don't  list." 


10 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  2,  1897. 


L 

First  Cabbie  (d  propos  of  motor-cars').    "AFTER  ALL  THIS  "ERE  FUSS  A-OETTIN'  KID  o'  THE 

CHAP  AS  WENT  JN  FRONT  WITH    A    FLAG    TOO— BAH!      WOT  THEY    WANT    18  A  COVE   TO  GO 

BE  im  'KM,  AN'  PICK  UP  THE  BITS  !  " 


NOUGHTS  AND  CROSSES. 

(A  Review.) 

ONE  pipe,  perhaps  one  whisky, 

Then  bed — it 's  after  two — 
By  Jove,  a  pipe 's  a  comfort, 

Now  for  a     bird's-eye  "  view  1 
One  glance — ah !  here 's  the  programme, 

Worst  time  I  ever  had. 
Bad  partners,  bar  those  crosses — 

The  whole  affair  was  bad. 

Four  crosses!    I  was  leaning, 

In  fact,  against  the  wall 
Those  dances,  hut  in  fancy 

With  you  I  danced  them  all — 
With  you,  who,  all  unconscious 

Were  dancing  in  to-day 
With  some  confounded  fellow 

A  hundred  miles  away. 

But  now  some  doubting  demon 

Is  whispering  in  my  ear 
That  "  nought "  to  "  cross  "  must  answer — 

The  game  is  so,  I  fear. 
I  fear  to-night  those  symbols 

May  represent  our  thought, 
My  thought  of  you — these  crosses, 

The  thought  you  've  given  me — nought  I 


THE  NEW  AND  FASHIONABLE  COMPLAINT. 
— A  motor-cardiac  affection. 


AUGUSTE  EN  ANGLETERRE. 
NOTES  SUR  L'ALMANACH. 

DEAR  MISTER, — After  to  have  passed  several  months  in  Eng- 
land, I  comprehend  to  the  foundation  the  manners  and  the  habi- 
tudes of  that  country  there,  as  a  tourist,  or  "  globetroter  "  who 
has  passed  some  weeks  in  China,  or  as  a  Member  of  the  Parlia- 
ment who  has  visited  the  Oriental  Indias  during  the  vacations 
of  the  House  of  the  Commons.  All  the  two  would  write  their 
impressions  of  voyage.  In  doing  of  same  me  I  have  prepared 
these  notes  on  the  almanack,  and  I  expedite  them  to  you  at  the 
fine  of  december,  when  all  the  world  thinks  to  the  almanack  of 
the  new  year.  Agree,  &c.,  AUGUSTE. 

JANUARY.— The  Day  of  the  Year.  I  wish  to  you,  Mister  Punch, 
the  good  year  I  After  that  I  find  not  that  there  is  much 
who  arrives  during  the  month  of  January.  I  consult  alldays 
the  Almanack  of  WHITAKBR  for  1896,  and  in  January  I  find  but 
some  errors.  It  is  very  curious.  Mister  WHITAKER  says  that 
the  six  is  the  twelfth  day.  How  that?  It  is  perhaps  a 
fault  of  imprimary.  Then  he  says  "CHARLES  THE  FIRST  be- 
headed C.  BRADLAUQH,"  with  the  date.  How  that?  Then  he 
says,  "H.  M.  STANLEY,  M.P.  1841."  There  is  longtime  that 
he  is  deputy.  And  at  above,  "H.  M.  procl.  Emp.  of  India." 
I  have  never  heard  to  say  that  Mister  STANLEY  was  Emperor  of 
India.  There  is  invariably  some  letters  "  d  "  or  "  b  "  mixed  with 
the  names.  Excepted  these  little  errors,  the  Almanack  is  ex- 
cellent. 

FEBRUARY.— The  fourteen  is  the  feast  of  St.  Valentine,  the  day 
where  the  men  in  England  send  to  their  "  sweethearts "  some 
drolls  of  little  madrigals  and  of  other  poetrys,  printed  on  paper 
adorned  of  little  pictures  of  hearts,  of  flowers,  and  of  cupidons. 
It  is  a  custom  very  ancient.  There  is  at  present  a  functionary, 
called  the  Poet^Laureate,"  a  certain  Mister  AUSTIN,  without 
cease  occupied  to  write  the  poetrys  for  the  "  valentines."  He 
has  a  pretty  talent  for  that.  In  february.  the  sittings  of  the 
Parliament  commence  ordinarily.  It  is  all  regulated  for  the 
sport.  When  the  chase  to  the  fox,  the  chase  to  the  partridges, 
and  the  chase  to  the  pheasants  are  almost  finished,  the  deputies 
have  enough  of  leisure  for  to  discuss  the  laws.  About  this  time 
here,  according  to  the  date  of  Easter,  there  is  the  mardi  gras, 
the  tuesday  of  shrove,  when  all  the  English  eat  the  cakes  of  Pan, 
usage  of  which  one  ignores  the  origin.  He  has  the  air  of  to  date 
from  the  time  of  the  ancient  Greece. 

MARCH. — During  this  month  here  ordinarily  there  has  place 
the  great  race  of  boats  from  Cambridg  to  Oxford.  It  is  very 
renowned  in  the  sport.  The  equipage,  Vfquipage,  who  gains 
receives  a  blue  ribbon,  called  "  the  blue  ribbon  of  the  turf .  In 
England  a  blue  ribbon  indicates  a  man  who  loves  the  water. 
Many  hundreds  of  sportmen  go  of  good  hour  to  the  Thames, 
and  attend  patiently  at  the  border  on  the  mud  for  to  see  to  pass 
the  boats.  This  is  ennuyant,  and  therefore  anything  which  is 
also  annoying  is  called  "  the  blues."  At  the  occasion  of  this  race, 
as  testimony  of  sympathy  with  the  two  equipages,  all  the  ladies  of 


the  college  of  Oxford  and  of  the  college  of  Cambridg  are  dressed 
entirely  in  blue,  so  entirely  that  they  are  called  "  blue  stockings." 

APRIL. — The  first,  in  France,  one  gives  sometimes  the  one  to 
the  other  a  fish  of  april.  In  England  the  other  becomes  a  fool 
of  april.  The  Scottish  writer  CARLYLE,  said  that  the  most  part 
of  the  English  are  some  fools.  Without  doubt  he  wrote  this  the 
first  april. 
are  not  in 
one  calls  .  „„  , 
tish,  wrote  the  english  language  with  so  much  of  difficulty  that 
he  was  obliged  continually  of  to  serve  himself  of  german  words. 
By  consequence  I  comprehend  but  very  little  of  his  works.  Better 
would  value  to  write  entirely  in  german,  a  stranger  language,  as 
me  I  write  in  english.  In  this  note  I  speak  of  Easter.  The  saint 
friday  in  England  all  the  world,  your  faire  maigre,  for  to  make 
thin,  eats  only  some  drolls  of  little  cakes,  extremely  unhealthy, 
called  "  Hotcross  Buns."  They  resemble  to  the  horrible  "  buns  " 
sold  in  the  restaurants  of  the  english  railways.  Ah  fa,  me  I 
should  prefer  a  thin  day  to  the  french.  d  la  francaise  ! 

MAY.— One  calls  the  first  the  "  Mayday."  It  is  the  day  where 
the  English  walk  themselves  adorned  of  garlands,  and  sometimes 
entirely  covered  of  verdure,  that  which  is  called  "  the  wearing  of 
the  green,"  and  he  who  is  within,  "a  Johnny  inside  the  green." 
The  first  monday  of  may  the  opening  of  the  Academy  of  Arts  has 
place.  There  is  a  small  number  of  pictures,  and  still  less  of 
statues,  in  comparison  of  the  two  Salons  at  Paris.  Some  ones 
of  the  pictures  are  some  chiefs  of  work,  but  there  is  of  them 
many  which  are  but  "  boilers  of  the  pot,"  as  say  the  english 
painters,  because  they  serve  themselves  of  them  after  for  to  light 
the  fire.  At  the  end  of  the  month  all  the  world  goes  to  the  races, 
called  "the  Epsom,"  at  Darby,  chief-place  of  the  department  of 
the  Darbyshir.  Sir  HARCOURT  was  formerly  deputy  of  Darby, 
but  he  was  not  elected  after  that  "  the  Epsom  "  was  gained  two 
times  of  following  by  the  Lord  of  ROSEBERY. 

JUNE. — The  lundi  de  Pentecote  is  called  in  England  "  Wit  mon- 
day." The  English  are  invariably  severe  and  correct,  laughing 
very  little,  but  this  day  here,  at  that  which  he  appears,  they 
amuse  themselves  with  some  wit.  At  cause  of  that  all  the  banks, 
all  the  offices,  and  all  the  magazines  are  closed,  because  they  are 
not  spiritual  of  the  all,  but  naturally  sad  and  severe.  Then  each 
one  goes  himself  away  some  part,  bouscutt  in  the  stations  of  rail- 
way and  in  the  trains,  full  or  world,  and  a  man  of  the  people  is 
enough  often  drunk  dead  at  the  fine  of  the  day.  See  there  an 
idea  of  pleasure  1  Above  all  the  to-morrow  when  he  is  con- 
demned to  pay  some  amend  by  the  j-uge  de  paix,  in  english,  "  the 
beack."  During  this  month  also  there  is  the  races  of  Ascot,  and 
the  great  games  of  cricket  on  the  field  of  a  certain  Monsieur  C.  C. 
LORD,  that  which  one  calls  "  M.  C.  C.  Lord's  ground."  And  the 
twenty  all  the  world  celebrates  the  Accession  of  Her  Majesty  the 
QUEBN.  Permit,  Mister  Punch,  that  a  French  may  say.  with  the 
most  great  respect  and  the  most  humble  admiration,  God  save 
the  QUEEN." 

(La  suite  prochainement,  the  following  nextly.) 


JANUARY  2,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


11 


THE  ANNUAL  GREETING  IN  COMMON  FORM. 

(At  the  service  of  those  who  require  the  article.) 

ONCE  again  three  hundred  and  sixty-five 
days  have  passed  since  the  bells  of  St. 
Paul's  tolled  out  the  then  expiring  year, 
and  chimed  in,  Ac.,  Ac. 

It  is  pleasant  to  consider  that,  in  spite  of 
an  hour  or  so  of  sadness,  the  sum  total  has 
turned  out  to  be,  Ac.,  Ac. 

Our  foreign  relations  are  still  satisfac- 
tory,  Ac.,  Ac.  It  is  true  that  France  is 
always  chafing  at  the  occupation  of  Egypt, 
but  in  her  calmer  mood  she  must  be  con- 
vinced, Ac.,  Ac.  Then  Russia  is  our  close 
neighbour  in  India,  but  when  we  recollect 
that  there  is  much  in  common,  Ac.,  Ac. 
Yet  again,  Germany  can  claim  kinship  with 
us,  and  if  her  Emperor  for  a  moment 
seemed,  Ac.,  Ac.  So,  regarding  the  out- 
look as  one  not  entirely  without  danger, 
we  can  rest  satisfied  that  England  will 
always  be  able,  Ac.,  Ac. 

Domestic  affairs  naturally  concern  us  as 
we  sifc  beside  the  Yule-log,  and  as  we 
fiance  at  our  boys  and  girls,  education, 
Ac.,  Ac.  But  the  school  quest.on  is  not 
unanswerable,  and  with  forbearance  and 
good-will,  Ac.,  Ac. 

In  conclusion,  we  can  wait  for  the  tol- 
lincr  bell  of  St.  Paul's  without  apprehen- 
sion, Ac..  Ao.  The  world  jogs  on  with  the 
monotony  of,  Ac.,  Ac.  There  may  be  trade 
rivalries  and  political  follies,  Ac.,  Ac.  For 
all  that,  what  England  has  once  done,  she 
can.  Ac..  Ac.  So  there  is  no  reason  why 
we  should  not,  as  Christmas  is  past,  eive  a 
conninely  hearty  welcome  to  the  glad  New 
Year. 


MISUNDERSTOOD. 

Mild  Old  Gentleman  rescues  a  bun  which  Child  hag  dropped  in  tile  mud. 
Child  (all  aglow  with  righteous  indignation).   "  THAT  's  jr r  BUN  !  " 


people 


THE  COMPLEAT  ANGLER. 

(Scenes  in  Dialogue.) 

I.— FA  I  LURK. 

SCENE-  Garden  at  back  of  Mrs.  ONSLOW'S  house  in  Kensington.  On 
garden  seat,  near  table  with  coffee-cups,  Mrs.  ONSLOW,  a  widow,  and 
DOLLY  (eighteen)  and  DAISY  (nineteen),  her  daughters.  Mrs.  ONSLOW 
has  an  empress*  manner  and  an  angry  smile.  DOLLY  and  DAISY 
are  pretty  girls  dressed  in  pink.  TIME—  Three  in  the  afternoon. 

Mrs.  Onslow.  It  is  very  curious,  but  I  have  an  odd  presenti- 
ment that  Lord  JASMYN  will  propose  to  one  of  you  two  to-day,  at 
our  garden-party. 

Dolly.  Mamma  always  looks  on  the  bright  side,  doesn't  she, 
DAISY. 

Mrs.  Onslow.  But  you  don't  really  think  he  isn't  serious? 

Daisy.  We  're  afraid  he's  far  too  serious  to  propose  to  pe 
who  are  so  certain  to  accept  him  as — as  either  of  us ! 

Mrs.  Onslow.  He  has  invited  himself  to  lunch  twice,  lately. 

Dolly.  That 's  very  sweet  and  hospitable  of  him. 

Mrs.  Onslow.  I  think  it  is  DOLLY  Lord  JASMYN  admires. 

Daisy.  Men  often  pay  far  less  attention  to  the  girl  who  is 
really  the  object  of  their  thoughts,  Mamma,  than  to  a  mere 
casual  acquaintance. 

Dolly.  He  must  be  very  devoted  to  you,  dear  1 

Mrs.  Onslow.  He  talks  more  to  DOLLY. 

Dolly.  He  talks  about  DAISY. 

Daisy.  And  to  me  he  talks  about  Mamma. 

Mrs.  Onslow.  DOLLY,  do  wear  your  mauve  dress  I 

Dolly.  Oh,  please  not,  Mamma  I  Mauve  is  the  colour  I  wear 
when  I  refuse  people. 

Daisy.  You  wear  it  very  seldom,  darling. 

Dolly.  Do  you  mean  that  I  am  always  accepting  people,  DAISY  ? 

Daisy.  No,  dear,  no.  I  didn't  mean  that.  I  know  you  hardly 
ever  accept  anyone. 

Mrs.  Or/slow.  I  must  get  EZZIE  to  persuade  you  to  wear  your 
mauve.  He  's  coming  early.  EZZIB  knows  so  much  of  the  world. 

Dolly.  EZZIK'S  horrid  worldliness  is  no  reason  why  I  should 
wear  mauve  when  I  don't  want  to,  Mamma. 

Mrs.  Onslnw.  How  obstinate  you  are,  child! 
Enter  EZZIE,  Mrs.  ONSLOW'S  nephew  (twenty),  coming  down  steps 
from  balcony. 

Ezzie.  I've  noticed  DOLLY'S  always  obstinate  in  pink.  Aunty. 
(HOLLY  offers  coffee.)  No  thanks — if  I  did  it  would  keep  me 
awake  the  whole  afternoon. 


Mrs.  Onslow.  I  shall  leave  you  for  a  little  while — I  'm  coming 
back.  (Goes  vp  steps.) 

Ezzie.  I  say.  I  think  these  back-garden  parties  of  Auntie's 
are  perfectly  ghastly. 

Dolly.  So  dp  I. 

Daisy.  I  think  they  're  very  amusing. 

Ezzie.  Oh  I  That's  only  your  nasty  cynical  habit  of  making 
the  best  of  everything.  You  know  they're  really  rather  awful. 
You  don't  mind'  my  saying  so,  do  you  ?  I  mean,  there 's  never 
anyone  here  one  knows. 

Daisy.  I  know ;  but  Mamma  gets  hold  of  a  whole  heap  of 
celebrities,  and  Lord  JASMYN  likes  looking  at  clever  people. 

Ezzie.  flow  sweet  of  him  1  I  hate  being  the  only  stupid  person 
in  a  crowd  of  clever  people — they  make  such  a  fuss  about  one. 

Dolly.  Instead  of  talking  nonsense,  why  don't  you  try  and  pre- 
Mamma  throwing  us  at  people's  heads  in  the  dreadful  way 


It  makes  us  so  uncomfortable.     It 's  so  dread- 


vent 
she  does  ? 

Daisy.  Yes. 
fully  obvious. 

Ezzie.  My  dear  things,  it  doesn't  make  the  slightest  difference. 
If  she  were  cool  to  JASMYN  it  would  give  it  away  ever  so  much 
more.  He  might  think  her  designing,  then— he  can't,  now. 
She  's  too  frank.  Don't  you  see  ? 

Dolly.  It  isn't  at  all  nice  for  us,  anyhow. 

Daisy.  Lord  JASMYN  has  always  seemed,  lately,  as  if  he  were 
just  going  to  say  something,  and  then  didn't  say  it. 

Ezzie.  Why,  of  course !  I  quite  forgot.  He  asked  me  to  tell 
you.  He  said  he  knew  you  would  be  pleased. 

Dolly.  What  conceit  I 

Ezzie.  He  's  going  to  be  married.  To  an  American  girl.  He 
wants  to  bring  her  to  see  you. 

Daisy.  Poor  Mamma  I     Another  failure  I 

Dolly.  I  shall  go  and  put  on  my  mauve  dress. 

Ezzie.  Bear  up,  DOLLY.  You're  looking  very  beautiful,  to- 
day. I  really  must  make  love  to  you  some  time  or  other. 

Dolly.  It's  dreadful  to  hear  you  talk  in  this  way.  You  used 
to  be  such  a  nice  boy. 

Daisy.  We  used  to  tell  him  stories. 

Ezzie.  Well,  I  could  tell  you  lots,  if  you  'd  only  listen. 

Dolly.  Oh,  you  're  quite  spoilt,  now!  But  you'll  tell  Mamma 
— before  the  people  come— about  Lord  JASMYN  P 

Ezzie.  Yes.  I'll  break  it  to  Aunty.  She  overdoes  it,  that's 
what 's  the  matter. 

Daisy.  Yes,  Mamma  overdoes  it.     (They  sigh.) 


12 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  2,  1897. 


HINTS    FROM    OUR    INVENTOR'S    NOTE  BOOK. 

THE  NEW  "MOTORAMBULATOR." 


TUB  COLUMN  OF  FATE. 

ONE  record  on  that  fateful  page 
A  joyful  entry  I  have  reckoned — • 

Her  first  appearance  on  Life's  stapre. 
Alas,  it  now  records  her  second ! 
<  •  •  * 

A  slim  white  figure  in  relief 

Against  the  old  black  oak  outstanding — 
I  see  her  still,  the  heart-stealing  thief, 

As  first  I  saw  her  on  the  landing. 

A  pleasant  house,  a  pleasant  set — 
I  had  the  luck,  as  I  'm  a  sinner, 

The  only  night  we  ever  met, 
To  take  AMANDA  in  to  dinner. 

We  talked  of  pictures,  books,  and  plays, 
Touched  on  a  hundred  subjects  lightly  ; 

Our  tastes  agreed  in  various  ways, 

And — well,  I  think — we  flirted  slightly  ! 

She  had  to  go,  alas,  next  day ; 

Perhaps  she  wished— I  know  that  I  did- 
That,  when  they  asked  us  down  to  stay, 

Our  visits  might  have  coincided. 

How  often  since  that  day — since  then 
Remorseless    Fate    has    kept    us    sun- 
dored — 

I  've  wondered  if  we  '11  meet  again, 
And  whether  she — has  also  wondered  ! 

None  else  has  made  my  heart  forget, 
Maid  plain  or  pretty,  dull  or  clever. 

To  think  of  all  the  girls  I've  met, 
Yet  one.  to  touch  AMANDA — never ! 

So  I  've  good  reasons — if  not  rhymes — 
For  mourning,  since  my  eye  I  carried 

Down  the  first  page  of  Monday's  Times — 
She  'a  dead — to  me,  in  short — she 's  mar- 
ried! 


CINDERELLA  (VERY  MUCH  UP-TO-DATE). 

["  There  is  a  praiseworthy  tendency  nowadays,"  remarks  a  weekly  literan 
jou-mal,  "  to  make  children's  books  instructive  as  well  as  amusing.  .  .  .  His- 
tory and  science  are  eagerly  welcomed  when  disguised  in  the  garb  of  romance. ' ' 
In  order  to  assist  this  "  praiseworthy  tendency,"  Mr.  Punch,  always  wel1 
abreast  of  the  times,  hastens  to  submit  some  fragments  of  a  new  version  of  an 
old  fairy-tale,  which,  when  completed,  will  surely  both  profit  and  deligh1 
every  youthful  reader.] 

ONCE  upon  a  time,  assuming  for  the  moment  that  time  has  an 
existence  other  than  as  a  conditional  necessity  of  thought,  thert 
lived  a  girl  called  CINDERELLA,  whose  name  was  doubtless  de 
rived  from  the  Sanskrit  root  KIN,  despite  MAX  MULLER'S  state 
incuts  to  the  contrary.  She  was  very  unkindly  treated  by  hei 
two  sisters,  whose  ill-temper  was  not  unnatural,  seeing  that  thf 
eldest  suffered  from  insomnia,  and  had  incautiously  taken  largf 
doses  of  bromide  of  potassium  as  a  remedy  for  it.  The  patho 
logical  results  of  this  drug  are  well  known,  they  include  .  .  .  (In- 
sert two  pages  from  the  "Dictionary  of  Medicine"  here.)  Thf 
other  sister  was,  we  regret  to  say,  an  assiduous  reader  of  old 
fashioned  fairy-tales,  which  contain  no  instruction  whatever 
and  consequently  have  a  most  pernicious  effect  upon  thf 
character. 

So  CINDERELLA  sat  in  solitude  by  the  hearth,  where  the  dis 
interred  products  of  the  carboniferous  epoch  were  in  process  ol 
slow  combustion,  and  the  exudations  from  her  lachrymal  glands 
coursed  slowly  down  her  cheek.  Suddenly  the  door  opened  ;  hei 
fairy  godmother  entered  the  room,  and  said — but  it  is  necessary 
to  pause  here  in  order  to  remark  that  the  supposed  fairy  was,  in 
point  of  fact,  nothing  but  a  subjective  illusion  of  CINDERELLA'S 
excited  brain.  Such  instances  of  cerebral  subconscious  activity 
are  by  no  means  rare,  and  one  theory  explains  them  on  thr 
grounds  .  .  .  (Here  follow  three  pages  of  psychology.)  "  And 
so,"  continued  the  fairy,  "you  wish  to  attend  the  ball  to- 
night ?  You  shall  certainly  do  so ;  but  first  of  all  give  me  your 
attention  while  I  explain  to  you  the  history  of  dancing,  which  I 
shall  do  under  throe  heads :  — (a)  As  an  act  of  primitive  sym- 
bolism, (b)  As  a  part  of  heathen  worship,  and  (c)  As  a  social 
institution."  (Copious  extracts  from  the  "  'Encyclopaedia  Sri- 
tannica"  ensue  at  this  point.)  "Let  me  end  by  reminding  you 
that  you  must  be  home  by  midnight ;  indeed,  in  counselling  you 
to  keep  early  hours,  I  am  only  acting  in  accord  witk  the  leading 
physiologists,  whose  advice  upon  this  point  is  practically  unani- 


mous. To  quote  from  a  paper  read  at  the  last  meeting  of  the 
British  Association  .  .  .  : 

CINDERELLA'S  beauty  at  once  attracted  the  notice  of  the  Prince, 
whose  presence  was  due  to  the  fact  that  the  government  of  this 
country  was  monarchical.  As  to  the  merits  of  this  system  as 
compared  with  those  of  a  republican  form  of  rule,  it  may  be 
pointed  out,  in  the  first  place  (dec.,  ffcc.).  In  fact,  so  happy 
was  CINDERELLA  that  she  took  no  notice  of  the  flight  of  time, 
until  a  clock  at  the  end  of  the  room,  by  the  help  of  a  familiar 
yet  ingenious  piece  of  mechanism  (here  insert  a  full  description 
of  it,  urith  diagrams),  struck  twelve  times.  .  .  . 

"  Nay,"  exclaimed  the  Prince,  "  it  were  needless  to  place  this 
vitreous  slipper  upon  thy  dainty  foot,  my  beauteous  CINDERELLA, 
for  I  have  already  ascertained  that  it  is  a  perfect  fit  by  means 
of  the  Rontgen  rays,  the  working  of  which  I  will  now  explain  in 
detail,"  (he  does  so,)  "and  therefore  I  claim  thee  as  my  bride!" 

So  CINDERELLA'S  sisters  were  overcome  with  disappointment, 
and  spent  the  rest  of  their  days  in  writing  Intellectual  Fairy 
Stories,  which  were  both  Amusing  and  Instructive,  and  which 
would  doubtless  have  greatly  benefited  their  readers,  if  there  had 
been  any ;  only  the  benighted  children  showed  a  marked  pre- 
ference for  tales  of  the  old  and  foolish  kind.  But  CINDERELLA 
married  the  Prince,  and  lived  happily  for  about  25'42  years  after- 
wards, if  one  may  accept  Professor  SAWDUST'S  estimate  of  the 
iverage  duration  of  married  life. 


FREE    TRANSLATIONS. 
(By  Our  Special  Schoolboy.} 

Stat  magni  nominis  umbra.  Stick  your  name,  large,  on  your 
umbrella.  (For  careful  clubbites.) 

Stare  super  vias  antiquas.  You  can't  help  staring  at  old  guys. 
(For  cheeky  youngsters.) 

Abeunt  studia  in  mores.  There  beant  much  manners  about 
students.  (For  townsmen  against  gownsmen.) 

Aliquid  facerem  ut  hoe  ne  facerem.  Better  hock  than  no 
liquid  at  all.  (For  topers.) 

Aliquis  in  omnibus,  nullus  in  singulis.  There  s  nothing  singu- 
lar (now)  in  a  lady  riding  on  an  omnibus.  (For  New  Women.) 

Crede  mihi,  res  est  ingeniosa  dare.  Take  my  tip,  "tipping  " 
youngsters  is  the  correct  thing  I  (For  schoolboys  at  Christmas 
time.) 


JANUARY  9,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


13 


"SANTA  GLAUS "(;  A  REMINISCENCE  OF  CHRISTMAS. 

"  OH  I    HE  's  BEEN  ! ! " 


AUGUSTE  EN  ANGLETERRE. 
NOTES  SUR  L'ALMANACH  (mite). 

JULY. — During  this  month  all  the  world  goes  to  the  regattas  of 
Henley  on  the  Thames.  These  regattas  are  charming,  if  he  falls 
not  of  the  rain.  Helas!  That  arrives  often  in  England.  All 
the  long  of  the  river  some  boat-houses  of  the  most  prettys,  of  the 
most  coquettes,  are  placed,  and  there  find  themselves  reunited 
all  that  ne  has  there  of  the  most  elegant — the  nobleness,  the 
sportmen,  and  the  high  finance.  And  above  all  the  most  ador- 
able misses,  themselves  charming  like  some  roses,  dressed  in 
pretty  robes  gay  like  some  flowers,  are  there  on  the  boat-houses, 
all  adorned  of  pretty  plants.  It  is  one  can  not  more  gracious. 
A  little  more  late  there  is  the  races  of  Goodwood — voila  a  word 
where  one  finds  enough  of  the  letter  O,  n'est-ce  pasf 

AUGUST. — The  season  at  London  terminates  at  the  fine  of  the 
month  of  July,  and  the  nobleness  and  the  burgessy  go  themselves 
away,  the  ones  to  the  regattas  of  Cows,  or  to  the  border  of  the 
sea,  the  others  to  the  country,  or  in  Scotland,  or  in  the  land  of 
Wales.  A  great  number  traverse  the  sea  for  to  make  a  voyage  of 
agreement  at  the  stranger.  The  English  love  much  the  voyage, 
and  at  cause  of  that  one  encounters  partout  the  voyagers  COOK. 
Those  who  go  in  Scotland  commence  the  twelve  the  chase  to  the 
grouses.  Tlio  regattas  of  Cows,  town  of  the  Island  of  Wight, 
very  frequented  by  the  high  nobleness,  are  all  that  he  has  there  of 
the  most  cheek,  chic.  One  sees  there  all  the  elegant  worlders, 
mondains.  The  judges,  the  advocates,  the  avoweds,  and  the 
other  men  of  law  go  themselves  away  also  during  the  grand  vaca- 
tions, and  of  same  the  bankers  quit  their  banks,  the  negotiators 
quit  their  cases — misses — and  the  pursers  quit  the  Purse,  or 
Stockexchange.  Even  some  ones  of  the  medicins  can  to  quit 
their  ills,  malades. 

SEPTEMBER. — During  the  month  of  September  the  vacations 
continue  still.  There  is  relaxation,  reldche,  at  almost  all  the 
theatres  of  London,  there  is  no  more  of  concert,  nor  of  exposi- 
tion of  pictures,  nor  of  game  of  cricket,  nor  of  game  of  "  polow  " 
in  the  ground  of  Hurlinggame.  The  houses  of  the  "  Ouestend  " 
are  closed,  and  one  sees  there  but  some  "  caretackers  "  and  some 
cats.  During  this  month  there  is  the  races  of  the  Saint  Leger. 
Until  here  I  have  never  heard  to  speak  of  this  saint,  of  who  one 
ignores  the  true  name,  but  it  is  evident  that  he  was  old  goodman, 


vieux  bonhomme,  because  he  loved  the  races,  and  was  even  so  gay 
that  one  calls  him  U  saint  leger.  He  U  patron  of  the  "  book- 
mackers."  The  twenty-nine,  the  Saint  Michael,  all  the  English 
cat  some  gooses.  It  is  invariably  in  eating  that  they  celebrate  a 
feast.  At  the  fine  of  this  month,  or  in  October,  the  municipality 
of  London  commences  the  reparation  of  the  pavings,  and  each 
street  becomes  an  end  of  sack,  cul-de-iac,  that  which  continue* 
long  time  after  the  vacations,  sometimes  until  Christmas. 


PROVINCIAL  SKETCHES. 

No.  VIII.— THE  COLONEL. 

THE  urchins  used  to  tremble  when  the  Colonel's  gate  they  saw, 
For  trespassers  were  threatened  with  the  rigour  of  the  law, 
And  notices  were  posted  up  that  scared  the  boldest  ones — 
"  Beware  of  Savage  Dogs !   — "  Beware  of  Man-traps  and  Spring- 
guns  ! " 

Behind  these  formidable  works  the  Colonel  felt  secure  ; 
He  fed  his  Gloiret  de  Dijon  with  the  choicest  of  manure, 
He  thinned  his  single  dahlias  or  bedded  out  the  stocks, 
Or  pruned  the  trees  or  stuck  the  peas  or  trimmed  the  beds  of  box. 

At  times,  too,  in  his  study,  he  would  pore  with  puzzled  looks 
On  tables  of  statistics  in  the  Government  Blue  Books, 
Make  notes  with  conscientious  care,  and  gather  illustration 
For  his  tract,  "  The  Crime  of  Charity  without  Discrimination." 

And  when  he  met  with  beggars — and  the  beggars  all  took  care 
He  should  meet  them  fairly  often — he  would  fly  at  them  and 

swear 
They   were  idle   good-for-nothings,  and   he  'd   have   them   sent 

to  jail, 

And — no  I  they  needn't  come  to  him  with  any  whining  tale  I — 
And  he  quoted  from  his  pamphlet  and  dismissed  them  with  a 

frown, 
And,  if  no  one  were  about,  a  surreptitious  half-a-crown. 

The  beggars  used  to  thank  him  for  his  alms  in  Heaven's  name, 
And  straightway  out  of  gratitude  proceed  to  poach  his  game. 
Then  would  the  Colonel  vow  revenge  and  swear  the  rogues  should 

pay> 

And  might  he  go  to  Hades  if  the  rascals  got  away  ! 

And  once  it  is  recorded  that  his  anger  Durst  all  bounds, 
And  he  positively  charged  a  scamp  with  poaching  on  his  grounds  ; 
But  when  the  rogue  was  fined  and  swore  he  hadn't  any  pelf, 
The  Colonel  shook  him  by  the  hand  and  paid  the  fine  himself. 
The  boys,  too,  lost  their  terror  of  the  man-traps  and  spring- 
guns, 
And  the  cherry-trees  were  pillaged  by  the  poachers  and  their 

sons, 

Who  flocked  about  the  orchard  like  the  bees  about  a  hive, 
Till  the  Colonel  vowed  he  'd  take  his  whip  and  flay  the  lot  alive. 
He  caught  a  pair  of  urchins  and  he  swore  he  'd  make  them  squeal, 
He  'd  flog  them  till  they  couldn't  stand — he  'd  teach  them  how  to 

steal, 

And  he  dragged  them  off  to  slaughter. — When  the  urchins  re- 
appeared 
Their  mouths  were- full  of  toffy  and  their  cheeks  with  jam  were 

smeared. 

And  so  it  somehow  happened  that,  despite  the  strange  be- 
ginning, 
A  friendship  sprang  and  flourished  'twixt  the  sinned  against  and 

sinning, 

And  often  of  an  evening,  when  the  balmy  Zephyr  blows, 
And  the  odour  of  the  lavender  is  mingled  with  the  rose, 
The  Colonel  seeks  his  garden  where  he  puffs  his  brown  cheroot, 
Stretched  at  his  ease  beneath  the  trees  among  his  flowers  and 

fruit. 
Then  come  the  urchins  running  when  his  gaunt,  grey  form  they 

And  they  clamour  for  a  story  as  they  crowd  about  his  knee, 
And  he  tells  of  siege  and  battle,  till  the  youngsters  hold  their 

breath, 

And  he  tells  of  deeds  of  daring  in  the  very  jaws  of  death. 
And  he  tells  them  of  the  heroes  that  have  won  a  soldier's  grave, 
And  he  tells  them  of  the  glory  that  is  given  to  the  brave. 
"  Courage !  "  he  cries.     "  Be  heroes,  too,  and  dare  to  do  and  die ! 
Ah !     Didce  et  decorum  est  pro  patria  mori  !  " 


"  OH,  THE  RARITY  !  " — "  Of  all  the  substances  we  meet  with  in 
this  world,"  says  the  Scotsman,  "water  is  in  many  respects  the 
most  wonderful."  There  is  some  obscurity  about  this  frank 
admission.  Is  it  water  for  mixing  purposes,  or  for  the  morning 
tub,  the  rarity  of  whose  acquaintance  extorts  the  solemn  excla- 
mation ?  The"  fact  that  it  resounds  from  Edinburgh  on  New 
Year's  Eve  favours,  the  first  suggestion. 


VOL.  ex  1 1. 


14 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  9,  1897. 


JANUARY  9,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI 


IB 


THE  OLD  TO  THE  NEW. 

"  I'm  UK  's  nothing  new  beneath  the  sun," 
Yet,  now  the  Old  Year's  course  is  run, 

We  greet  the  next  as  New. 
Ring    out,    wild    bells  I      Well,    they    ring 

out, 

But,  'midst  their  merry  noise,  we  doubt 
If  more  than  the  old  clash  and  shout 

Makes  music  sweet  as  true. 

As  each  stout  arm  tugs  at  its  rope, 
We  strive  to  read  the  tones  of  Hope 

Into  the  clangorous  clatter; 
But  so  we  did  when  Ninety-six 
Was  at  our  door.     We  count  our  chicks 
Before  they  're  hatched ;    but  Time's  old 
tricks 

Make  hope  a  doubtful  matter. 

We  trust  there  '11  be  a  boom  in  trade, 
We  hope  no  other  reckless  raid 

Will  gladden  Boer  and  Teuton. 
We  pray  that  the  Armenian  murk 
May  lighten,  that  the  chuckling  Turk 
Won't  cut  us  out  a  mournful  work 

Humanity  fain  is  mute  on. 

We  hope  that  Concert  may  at  length 
Tune  up  in  unison  and  strength, 

Whoever  be  its  leader. 
We  trust  that  Pity  may  no  more 
At  the  barred  European  door 
Stand  helpless,  for  the  suffering  poor 

An  unregarded  pleader. 

But  whether  anything  more  new 
Than  the  New  Woman  greet  our  view, 

Seems  just  a  bit  uncertain. 
Ring  out  the  old — when  the  old 's  bad ! — 
But,  Ninety-seven,  my  hopeful  lad, 
Let  some  "good  news"  make  our  hearts 
glad 

Before  you  drop  the  curtain! 


THE  NEW  HUMANITY. 

(  With  Compliments  to  tlwse  who  coiisiiler  Dickens' s 
"  Christmas  Carol  "  out  of  dale.) 

MB.  PUNCH,  SIR, — Now  that  Christmas 
is  well  over,  and  we  have  got  comfortablj 
into  the  New  Year,  I  will  let  you  into  a 
secret.  I  have  set  my  face  against  all  thi- 
absurd  customs  of  Yule-tide,  with  the  hap- 
piest result. 

I  began  the  festival  by  ignoring  Boxing 
Day.  Why  should  the  dustman,  the  baker, 
the  turncock,  and  the  police  have  a  shilling 
a-piece  ?  They  don't  give  me  presents, 
then  why  should  I  remember  them? 

Then  the  idea  of  commencing  the  New 
Year  peacefully  is  absurdly  conventional. 
Why  should  I  outrage  my  feelings  because 
one  set  of  365  days  is  ended,  and  another 
set  of  365  days  is  about  to  commence  ?  So 
I  fell  out  with  my  friends  and  cut  my 
family  all  round.  I  am  pleased  to  say  that 
at  this  moment  I  am  not  on  speaking 
terms  with  my  sons,  have  turned  m.v 
daughter  out  of  doors,  and  have  just 
signed  a  deed  of  separation  with  my  wife. 
Thus  I  commence  the  year  untrammelled 
by  family  ties,  and  free  from  responsibili- 
ties that  have  always  been  irksome. 

Finally,  I  conclude  by  failing  to  wish 
you  the  compliments  of  the  season,  as  the 
senseless  greeting  is  out  of  date,  and  con- 
sequently inappropriate.  So  no  more  at 
present  from  Yours  sincerely, 

A.  KKIUI  MTOGEON. 


AT  PRASCATI'S,  in  Oxford  Street,  an  or- 
chestra performs  during  lunch.  Of  course, 
the  selections  in  a  grill-room  would  be 
chiefly  from  CHOPIN. 


UNGENTLE    PERSUASION. 

Mother.  " TOMMY,  WHAT  ON  EARTH  is  BABY  CRYING  FOR?" 

Tammy.  "  HE  's  ANGRY  WITH  ME,  MAMMA,  BECAUSE  I  WAS  TRYING  TO  MAKE  HIM  SMILE 
WITH  YOUR  GLOVE-STRETCHKR." 


"  MADE  IN  GERMANY." 
HOWSOEVER  British  Trade 

Be  affected  by  the  Teuton, 
Some  things  there  are  surely  made 

It  were  prudent  to  be  mute  on. 
Ravings  of  the  reptile  Press, 

Speeches  by  a  shouting  Kaiser, 
Meet  with  such  a  small  success 

That  to  drop  them  would  be  wiser. 
But  the  Teutons  of  one  trade 

Seem  monopolists  outspoken ; 
"Pis  of  tricky  treaties,  made 

(Like  old  pie  crusts)  to  be  brokrn  .' 
(Countersigned  by  O.  VON  BISMARCK, 
Or  most  plainly  bearing  his  mark!) 


"  DKMANBE  JOYEUSE."  —  Supposez  que 
vous  soyez  a  Lpndres,  et  que  vous  aper- 
ceviez  des  souris  courant  sur  les  genoux 
d'un  de  vos  amis,  quei  oat  le  nom  d'un 
fameux  peintre  francais  que  rappellerait 
cett«  circonstance  ? 

Answer.  "  Mice  on  knee,  eh  ?  " 

[We  are  informed  that  our  poor  dear  friend  nnttu* 

"  MEI88ONIBR." — ED.] 

PIPING  TIMES!  —  We  congratulate  "Sir 
P'liKDERiCK  WILLS,  Bart."  Her  Majesty, 
having  taken  a  "  Bird's-eye  "  view  of  his 
past  services,  has  given  him  a  "  short  cut " 
towards  the  peerage. 


16 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  9,   1897. 


THE    "NEW    HOUSEMAID." 

Proposed  Mistress.  "LET  MB  SEE — WHAT  is  YOUK  NAME?" 
Candidate  for  Domestic  Honours.   "GWENDOLEN  GLADYS  BLANCHE." 

P.  M.    "  I  'M  AFRAID  THAT  I  SHALL  HAVE  TO  CALL  YOU  '  MARTHA.'  " 

C.  "NOT  ME  !  I  COULDN'T  DISGRACE  MY  GODPARENTS  NOT  TO  PLEASE 
THE  QUEEN.     GOOD  MORNIN'."  [Departs  disgusted. 


THE  ARMY  CANDIDATE'S  VADE  MECUM. 

Question.  Desiring  to  adopt  the  military  profession— presum- 
.bly  with  the  view  of  preserving  the  honour  of  the  British  flag— 
what  steps  are  necessary  to  carry  out  your  patriotic  motive  ? 

Answer.  It  is  requisite  that  I  should  pass  the  qualifying  ex- 
aminations. 

Q.  Quite  so.  And  how  do  you  propose  bringing  this  rather 
ambitious  scheme  to  a  successful  issue  ? 

A.  By  obtaining  a  sufficient  number  of  marks. 

Q.  Certainly.     And  how  are  these  to  be  secured  ? 

A.  By  spending  nearly  every  hour  of  five  years  of  my  life  in 
the  class-rooms  of  a  professional  crammer. 

Q.  But  will  not  this  entail  considerable  expense  ? 

A.  Very  considerable  ;  but  as  it  will  be  borne  by  my  parents 
that  is  a  matter  that  has  for  me  no  personal  concern. 

Q.  Will  not  your  parents  regard  the  coach's  bills  as  a  pecuni- 
ary substitute  for  the  old-fashioned  system  of  purchasing  a  com- 
mission ? 

A.  Most  probably  ;  and  if  my  progenitors  are  good  at  figures 
they  will  not  improbably  consider  the  sum  sunk  in  tuition  as 
money  lost,  rather  than  as  cash  invested,  to  be  returned  on  my 
retirement  from  soldiering. 

Q.  Then  cramming  serves  as  a  bar  to  a  call  to  arms  as  effectu- 
ally as  purchase  ? 

A.  So  it  may  be  said.  But  again,  that  is  an  affair  that  has 
no  claim  upon  my  individual  attention. 

Q.  Leaving  the  question  of  cost  out  of  the  calculation,  will 
not  you  have  to  take  up  a  number  of  subjects  that  never  oc- 
curred to  the  First  Duke  of  WELLINGTON? 

A.  Undoubtedly:  but  then  his  deceased  grace  had  strange 
ideas  anent  the  officering  of  the  Army.  He  is  credited  with 


having  once  declared  that  Waterloo  was  won  on  the  Playing- 
Fields  at  Eton. 

Q.  Adopting  his  opinions  for  a  moment,  what  do  you  know  of 
athletic  sports  ? 

A.  Next  to  nothing,  as  all  my  knowledge  has  been  derived 
from  hearsay  evidence. 

Q.  Could  you  captain  a  cricket  eleven  or  a  football  team  P 

A.  Certainly  not;  and  it  would  be  absurd  to  learn  anything 
about  the  occupation,  as  the  subject  is  not  one  recognised  by  the 
examiners. 

Q.  Could  you  manoeuvre  an  army  in  the  field  ? 

A.  Not  unless  I  found  myself  in  a  position  to  do  so  from  a 
forced  acquaintance  with  hydrostatics,  geometrical  drawing,  and 
other  knowledge  of  a  kindred  character. 

Q.  Then  you  will  sacrifice  physical  fitness  to  mental  progress  ? 

A.  I  have  no  choice.  I  must  employ  my  time  in  learning  the 
subjects  required  by  the  examiners. 

Q.  But  if  this  be  so,  how  can  you  keep  up  the  glory  of 
England? 

A.  By  following  in  the  steps  of  my  predecessors. 

Q.  But  those  steps  appear  to  have  been  in  a  different  direc- 
tion. Can  you  not  find  a  better  answer  to  the  question  ? 

A.  In  the  absence  of  physical  training,  I  must  trust  to  the  fact 
that  I  am  by  birthright  an  Englishman. 

Q.  Certainly.  And  as  an  Englishman  what  is  your  opinion 
on  the  subject  generally  ? 

A.  That  Britannia  rules  the  waves,  and,  in  spite  of  the  re- 
strictions of  the  examinations,  Britons  will  never,  never,  never 
be  slaves. 

Q.  One  question  more.     Is  this  last  answer  of  yours  logical  ? 

A.  No,  it  is  something  better — it  is  patriotic. 


NO   "  CURLING  "   OF  THE   UPPER  LIP. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH,— An  Army  Circular  has  just  been  issued, 
by  which  officers  of  Her  Majesty's  Land  Forces  are  reminded 
that  according  to  Section  VII.,  Par.  25,  of  the  Queen's  Regu- 
lations :  — 

' '  Moustaches  are  to  be  worn,  and  the  chin  and  under  lip  are  to  be  shaved 
(except  by  pioneers,  who  will  wear  beards).  Whiskers,  when  worn,  are  to  be 
of  moderate  length." 

I  know,  Sir,  that  the  above  notice  refers  to  the  fact  that  many 
young  military  men  have  recently  taken  to  shaving  the  upper 
lip.  But,  indeed,  the  custom  has  prevailed  mainly  in  self  de- 
fence. Let  me  cite  my  own  case.  I  had  tried  for  at  least 
eighteen  months  to  promote  the  moustaches,  so  imperatively  de- 
manded by  our  Sovereign.  The  compounds  with  which  I  have 
anointed  my  upper  labial  have  been  expensive,  irritating,  un- 
seemly, and,  alas !  useless.  I  am  a  congenital  JACOB,  and  if  ever 
appointed  a  pioneer  could  not  raise  the  necessary  bird's  nest. 
As  to  whiskers,  I  have  often  wondered,  when  looking  at  pictures 
of  the  late  lamented  Lord  DUNDREARY,  whence  he  derived  them. 
As  a  last  endeavour  to  conform  with  the  Queen's  commands,  I 
have,  under  professional  advice,  severely  scraped  my  face  thrice 
a  day,  and  under  the  same  professional  advice  I  have  arrived 
at  the  conclusion  that  possibly  eighteen  distinct  hirsute  tributes 
to  Her  Majesty's  regulations — a  thin  red  line  indeed — might  sur- 
mount my  teeth.  Do  you  think  that  Our  August  Ruler  and 
Lord  WOLSELEY  will  be  satisfied  with  this  show  of  zeal?  Are  the 
Duke  of  CAMBRIDGE'S  whiskers  up  to  regulation  form  ?  Must  I 
abandon  my  profession  ?  Yours  in  despair, 

KUFUS  LEONIDAS  NIPOHIN, 
Lieutenant. 

Aldershot.  (Name  of  regiment  indecipherable.) 

[We  recommend  our  Correspondent  to  keep  his  hair  on,  if  he  can.— ED.] 


The   Ear  and  the  Voice  on  the   Transvaal. 

[President  KBUOEH  does  not  believe  in  idle  reports,  and  Mr.  CECIL  RHODKS 
does  not  speak  out  for  the  sake  of  others.] 


A  "  DUMB  CRAMBO  "  duet  mid  South  African  fears, 
By  two  powerful  men  has  but  lately  been  sung. 

"  Oom  PAUL  "  makes  a  point  of  fast  shutting  his  e! 
And  Rhodesian  CECIL  of  holding  his  tongue. 


ears, 


After  a  Trip  to  London. 

Archie.  Weel,  SANDY,  an'  hoo  did  ye  pass  the  time  in  Lunnon  ? 

Sandy.  Richt  brawly,  mon.  An'  forbye,  when  I'd  clappit  a 
stove  pipe  on  my  head  and  put  on  a  frockit  coat,  'deed,  ARCHIE, 
if  there  was  a  Southron  but  didna'  take  me  for  a  Cockney  born 
and  bred! 


JANUARY  9,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


17 


ROUNDABOUT  READINGS. 

(Letters  from  Mr.  R.  to  his  Nephew  at  Cambridge,  and  to  Others.) 

No.  VI.—  OK  LETTKHS-  OF  YOUTHFUL  HUMOUR  AND  GAIETY— OF 
SIVI.K  AM)  ITS  STUDY— OF  CIIAHLES  LAMB,  HAZLITT,  AND 
CHAKLFS  KEADE. 

My  DK.VII  JACK, — Your  letter  demands  a  reply.  You  say  (I 
quote  textually)  "  I  have  bought  NAPIBR'S  Peninsula  and  old 
MARBOT,  and  I  Ve  tackled  MARBOT  because  he  's  shorter.  It 's 
simply  ripping.  I  never  read  such  good  fighting  in  my  life. 
That  bit  where  his  mare  tore  a  Russian's  face  bang  off  and  pulled 
an  officer  to  bits  is  grand.  If  old  MARBOT  has  written  anything 
else  1  wish  you  'd  let  me  know,  as  I  shall  certainly  buy  it."  1 
commend  your  honest  enthusiasm,  my  dear  JACK,  and  I  don't 
carp  at  the  simple  style  in  which  you  express  it.  "  Kipping  "  is 
an  emphatic  word  that  in  its  way  is  probably  as  good  as  "  awful," 
and  "  stunning."  and  other  words  affected  by  a  former  generation 
of  youths  for  the  expression  of  their  astonishment  or  their  plea- 
sure ;  and  for  my  part,  1  would  rather  have  a  lad  write  a  letter 
in  the  style  that  best  suits  him  for  conveying  his  thoughts,  the 
direct  and  forcible  style  of  the  schoolboy,  than  pick  and  choose 
with  a  precise  and  laborious  care  the  exotics  of  language  that 
convey  nothing  except  the  writer's  own  precious  affectation  and 
lack  of  sincerity. 

But  there 's  a  happy  mean,  JACK,  there  's  a  happy  mean. 
Nearly  all  youngsters  have  humour  and  gaiety,  and  a  bright  sense 
of  laughter.  Alas,  aa  life  progresses  and  the  world  lays  its 
deadly  clutch  upon  them — when  they  pass  from  careless  youth 
to  domestic  happiness,  the  payment  of  weekly  bills  and  the 
chargo  of  a  growing  family  afflicted  by  measles,  or  clamorously  de- 
manding to  be  clothed,  to  be  sent  to  the  seaside  or  to  school,  and 
generally  obscuring  the  leisure  and  clogging  the  energies  of  their 
parents — when,  as  1  say,  they  suffer  this  change,  gaiety  and  the 
sense  of  laughter  recede  at  the  advent  of  the  rate-collector  and 
the  butcher,  and  the  happy  spirit  of  undergraduate  dinners  is 
turned  into  the  dull  and  plodding  citizen. 

Still,  while  there  is  youth  there  is  brightness — but  the  bright- 
ness does  not  often  find  its  way  into  the  letters  in  which  the 
feelings  of  youth  are  expressed.  It  is  a  vain  thing  consciously 
to  sit  down  in  order  to  study  style  with  a  view  to  self-improve- 
ment. Legions  of  prigs  and  pedants  are  doing  it.  I  know,  all 
the  world  over  at  this  very  moment,  inspired  to  their  dreadful 
undertaking  by  the  rash  and  unthinking  words  of  this  or  the 
other  successful  man  of  letters,  who,  under  the  compulsion  of  an 
interview  may  have  confessed  that  as  a  boy  he  formed  himself 
upon  the  model  of  ADDISON,  and  that  to  this  fact  he  attributes 
the  marvellous  sale  of  his  latest  novel  dealing  with  plot  and 
Dassion.  So,  when  stretched  upon  the  rack,  or  with  his  thumbs 
fixed  in  the  screws,  a  mediaeval  victim  would  abjure  errors  of 
which  he  was  not  guilty,  and  confess  to  crimes  that  he  had  never 
committed.  Still,  if  you  read  well-written  books,  your  taste  in 
words  and  sentences  must  gradually  improve.  \Vny  not  try  the 
essays  and  letters  of  CHARLES  LAMB  ?  Even  a  boy  who  has  just 
passed  his  Little  Go  (did  I  congratulate  you  upon  the  auspicious 
event  ?)  must,  I  think,  submit  to  the  fascination  and  enchant- 
ment of  this  master  of  insight,  whimsical  humour  and  playful, 
tender  regret.  And  how  manly  he  is  in  the  midst  of  his  weak- 
nesses, how  simple,  how  human.  If  you  read  his  letters  you 
will  learn  to  love  him  not  merely  as  a  writer,  but  as  a  friend  en- 
deared to  your  heart  by  innumerable  acts  of  affection  and  friend- 
ship, and  by  delightful  sallies  never  darkened  by  the  sullen, 
gloomy  breedings  that  make  companionship  and  life  itself  a  bur- 
den. Then,  if  you  want  another  manly,  breezy,  hard-hitting 
fellow  to  cheer  you  along,  take  a  turn  with  HAZLITT,  and  begin, 
as  you  are  fond  of  fighting,  with  his  account  of  the  prize-fight  at 
Bristol,  in  which  the  Gasman  was  forced  to  throw  up  the  sponge. 
There  's  a  piece  of  splendid  writing  for  you.  I  cannot  think  or  a 
higher  compliment  than  to  say  that  it  does  not  suffer  even  by 
comparison  with  that  immortal  battle  in  Rodney  Stone,  with 
which  my  friend  Mr.  CONAN  DOYLE  has  lately  set  our  sluggish 
blood  tingling.  And  for  another  fight  take  dear  old  crotchety 
CHARLES  READE'S  Hard  Cash.  I  took  it  up  again  only  the  other 
day,  and  had  to  read  it  to  the  end  before  I  put  it  down.  They 
talk  rashly  of  epics  now  and  again,  I  notice,  in  connection  with 
some  book  or  other  that  comes  tumbling  into  the  reviewer's 
hands,  but  Hani  Cash  is  an  epic  if  ever  there  was  one,  and  the 
fight  of  the  East  Indiaman  with  the  pirate  ships  is  one  that 
HOMER  would  have  rejoiced  to  witness,  and  to  consecrate  in 
hexameters. 

Farewell,  JACK  ;  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  your  new  dog  is  no 
undistinguished  or  merciful  enemy  of  rats.  My  compliments  to 
him,  and  my  love  to  you.  Your  affectionate  uncle,  BOB. 


AXIOM  OF  THE  POSTMAN  AT  CHRISTMAS. — Tip  for  tap. 


"NO,    MlSS  CONSTANCE,    I    DO   NOT    '  BlKE.'      THE    PRACTICE   HAS 

BECOME  so  EFFEMINATE,  YOU  KNOW  I " 


THE  ELECTIONS  OF  THE  FUTUBE. 
(A  Forecast  based  on  tlie  situation  in  Cleveland  and  Forfarshire.) 

First  Electioneering  Agent.  Well,  we  'vo  cot  a  satisfactory 
candidate  at  last.  All  my  voters  are  delighted  with  him  1 

Second  E.  A.  Our  constituents  are  equally  pleased  with  my 
choice.  A  thoroughly  satisfactory  and  able  advocate  of  popular 
views! 

First  E.  A.  Might  I  ask,  in  all  confidence,  where  you  found 
your  man  ?  Because  [Hesitates. 

Second  E.  A.  Well— I  know  you  had  a  little  difficulty  at  first, 
eh?  To  tell  the  truth,  so  had  I. 

First  E.  A.  Just  so  ;  but  now  we  know  that  the  old  saw  about 
distance  and  enchantment  still  cuts  crisply  ? 

Second  E.  A.  Precisely!  (Looking  stealthily  around).  And 
where  do  you  think  I  made  my  find? 

First  E.  A.  Not  in  Great  Britain,  I  '11  lay  a  sovereign. 

Second  E.  A.  You're  right!  (Whispers.)  We  cabled  for  him 
from  Behring's  Straits.  Good  move  ? 

First  E.  A .  Admirable  I  I  secured  my  man  by  a  special  mes- 
senger to  the  Gobi  Desert. 

Second  E.  A.  Call  yours  a  go-bye  election,  eh? 

First  E.  A.  And  yours  a  case  of  say  and  seals.  By  the  way, 
what 's  your  champion's  name  ? 

Second  E.  A.  ULYSSES  TKLEMACHTS. 

First  E.  A.  (aghast).  What?  Why,  that 's  my  man !  ULYSSES 
TELEMACHUS  shall  stand  for  me. 

Second  E.  A.  But  sit  for  me  1  [Tableau  and  curtain. 

[ULYSSES  TELEMACHCS  falls  between  two  stools.  Electioneering 
agents  determine  in  future  in  tlitcorrr  eligible  candidates 
nearer  home. 


18 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  9,  1897. 


NEW    DEPARTURE    IN    ADVERTISING. 

MEMBKRS  OP  THE  ARISTOCRACY  AND  OTHER  DISTINGUISHED  SPORTSMEN  MAY  NOW  INCREASE  THEIR  INCOMES  BY  FULFILLING  THEIR 

EVENING  ENGAGEMENTS  IN  THE  STYLE  SUGGESTED  ABOVE. 


THE  NEW  SHAMROCK  OF  OLD  IRELAND. 

(An  Irish  Melody  more  or  less  after  Moore. ) 
AIR—"  Oh,  the  Shamrock  !  " 

THROUGH  Erin's  Isle, 

A  weary  while, 
Were  Green  and  Orange  fighting  ; 

Till  £  s.  d. 

Joined  them  with  glee, 
The  rival  tints  uniting. 

Now,  where  they  pass 

A  triple  grass 
Shoots  up,  like  Sydenham's  rockets. 

"  Union  of  Hearts  " 

Fails,  but  this  starts 
The  Union  of  Pockets  1 
Oh  I  the  Shamrock,  the  green  (and  yellow) 
Shamrock  I 

For  £  jt.  d. 

Henceforth  shall  be 
Old  Erin's  genuine  Shamrock ! 

Says  SEXTON.  "See, 

This  sprang  from  Me, 
The  Saxon  Chancellors  scorning !  " 

Says  CABTLETOWN, 

"  Faith,  I  must  own 
You  did  give  us  fair  warning." 

DUNRAVBN,  tOO, 

Joins  the  same  crew 
As  DILLON,  nay,  as  DALY  ; 

The  new  type  blends 

Old  foes  as  friends 
In  the  same  galley  gaily. 
Oh  !  the  Shamrock,  the  green  (and  yellow) 
Shamrock ! 

Sure,  £  ,.  d. 

Henceforth  must  be 
Old  Erin's  typic  Shamrock) 


So  firmly  fond 

Appears  the  bond 
That  weaves  all  Pats  together, 

E'en  TIM  lets  fall 

No  drop  of  gall. 
And  REDMOND  stints  his  blether. 

SAUNDERSON,  too, 

Curses  the  screw 
Wherewith  JOHN  BULL  doth  bleed  'em  ; 

And,  nobly  rash. 

Would  make  a  dash 
For  true  (financial)  Freedom  ! 
Oh  !  the  Shamrock,  the  green  (and  yellow) 
Shamrock  I 

£  s.  d. 

Henceforth  must  be 
Ould  Oireland's  symbol  Shamrock  I 


PUNCH,  NOT  "WHTJSKEY." 

As  everyone  knows,  it  is  the  custom  of 
the  Scot  to  celebrate  the  birth  of  the  New 
Year  with  copious  libations.  On  the  pre- 
sent anniversary,  a  "  braw  laddie  "  from 
Dundee  in  London  was  so  overcome  that 
he  became  "  nae  fou,  but  just  a  wee 
clrappie  i'  the  e'e."  The  next  morning — 
New  Year's  Day — he  was  asked  how  he  had 
enjoyed  himself.  "  Hech  1  mon !  "  he  said 
to  his  interlocutor,  "  we  jest  went  amazing 
till  they  brought  in  the  whuskey-punch. 
Then  I  fell.  But  mark  ye,  laddie,  it 
wasna  the  whuskey,  but  the  punch,  that 
did  it.  A  douce  domned  flattering  body 
is  that  same  punch,  sae  invigorating,  that 
I  won  Id  mi  mind,  d'ye  ken,  taking  a  gam- 
pie  o'  the  same  ower  the  Border  for  the 
damnification  of  our  ain  meenister." 

[And  he  did. 


NOUGHTS  AND  CROSSES. 

(Her  Answer  to  Verses  last  live/.:") 

How  dare  you  write  such  verses — 

Such  sland'rous  rhymes,  for  shame! 
I  'd  have  you  to  remember 

That  two  must  play  the  game. 
I  fear  too  little  supper, 

Or  some  such  slight  alloy, 
Inspired  your  "  Noughts  and  Crosses," 

You  cross  and  naughty  boy  ! 

At  least  you  '11  be  delighted 

To  hear  I  loved  my  ball ; 
My  partners  all  were  charming ; 

I  did  enjoy  it  all ! 
And  once  I  may,  in  fancy, 

Have  danced — just  once,  I  may — • 
"  With  some  confounded  fellow 

A  hundred  miles  away  "  ] 

You  lent  your  "  doubting  demon  " 

A  rather  ready  ear. 
Of  all  such  shady  persons 

I  warn  you  to  beware. 
And  let  me  add  one  whisper 

(Not  that  you  '11  care  one  jot), 
Your  thoughts  of  me  were — cross  ones, 

My  thoughts  of  you  were — not  I 


Amid  the  mystic   Green  Glare  of  the 
Snapdragon  Bowl. 

Little  Daisy.  Oh,  Captain  BOSSWELL,  do 
look  at  Aunt  JENNY!  She  looks  just  as 
she  does  when  I  go  to  wish  her  good- 
morning  before  she  gets  up  I 

[And  Captain  B.  and  Aunt  J.  are  an 
engaged  couple. 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— JANUARY  9,  1897. 


THE   LOYALISTS   DISLOYAL; 

OK,  THE   GARRISON   GONE   OVER. 


CAPTAIN  OF  THK  WATCH  (ARTH-R   B-LF-R).    "  MY  LIEGE  !    THE  IRISH  HOSTS,  AT  LENGTH   UNITED, 

ARE  AT  THE  GATES!    OUR  LOYAL  GARRISON 
ESPOUSE  THEIR  CAUSE  !  " 

THE  BARON  (LORD  S-L-SB-RY,  gloomily).  "  THEN,   BY  MY  HALLDOM, 

OUR  GOOSE   IS   COOK'D  !"  (From  u  doosid  Old  Play.} 


JANUAKY  9,   1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


MISTAKEN    IDENTITY. 

Farmer  (to  Sicell,  dretsed  "  in  Ratcatcher,"  who,  having  come  out  to  Hunt  teit/t  a  crack  pack,  is 
standing  holding  his  own  horse).  "Now,  JACK,  HAVB  A  GLASS  I  No  WONDER  YOU  LOST  TOUR 
LAST  PLACE,  IK  YOU  CAN'T  HOLD  A  HORSE  BETTER  THAN  THAT  ! " 


WHEN  GREEK  MEETS  GREEK. 

DEAR  AND  UNPKDANTIO  MB.  PUNCH, 

A  Happy  New  Year  to  you  I  My 
holidays  are  made  unhappy,  more  or  less, 
by  the  news  that  some  preposterous  old 
papyrus-hunter  somewhere  in  Egypt  has 
dug  up  the  works,  or  part  of  them,  of  a 
new  Greek  poet !  Confound  the  old  grave- 
grubbing  gnoul,  why  can't  he  leave  His- 
tory's rejected  manuscripts  in  Time's 
waste-paper  basket  —  as  perhaps  you  will 
this  in  yours !  BACCHYLIDES  is  the  old 
beggar's  beastly  name,  it  seems,  and  he  is 
said  to  have  been  a  rival  of  PINDAR  ! 
Now,  if  ever  there  was  a  crabbed  old  high- 
falutin  gusher,  hard  as  nails  to  construe, 
and  dull  as  ditchwater  when  you  have  con- 
strued him,  it  is  PINDAR!  What  can  we 
want  with  another  of  him?  I  wish  that 
the  two  poets  had  demolished  each  other 
for  good,  like  the  Kilkenny  cats.  But 
surely  one  Greek  ode-grinder  is  enough 
for  the  universe ! 

Now  look  here,  Mr.  Punch!  England 
is  now  bossing  Egypt.  Let  that  splendid 
fellow,  the  Sirdar — Happy  New  \ear  to 
him ! — put  his  foot  down  on  grave  grub- 


bing and  poet-hunting  like  a  cart-load  of 
Pyramid  bricks,  and  that  will  be  an  addi- 
tional and  splendid  reason  for  holding  on 
to  Egypt !  As  for  the  papyrus  fragments  of 
old  BACCHYLIDES  which  are  found  —  make 
pipe-lights  of  "em!  See  to  it,  dear  Mr. 
Punch,  and  oblige  thousands  of  British 
schoolboys,  including 

Yours  admiringly,     BLOOGS  MAJOR. 


A.  DREADFUL  STATE  OF  AFFAIRS  AT 
MARKET  HARBOROUOH. 

Lord  Charles  Highflyer  (despondently). 
There 's  too  much  frost  to  hunt,  and  not 
enough  ice  to  skate ;  all  the  horses  are 
coughing ;  the  gov"nor  writes  to  say  that 
he's  going  to  endow  a  new  church  ;  BINGO 
wires  that  all  seats  are  booked  for  a  fort- 
night at  any  theatre  worth  going  to ; 
FANNT  CANTERLY  is  engaged  to  that  ass 
BLINKERS  ;  I  've  a  bill  overdue  on  Tues- 
day ;  HUMMINGBIRDIE  BELLEVILLE  threat- 
ens an  action  for  breach  of  promise  :  Aunt 
GENISTA  hasn't  weighed  in  as  usual ;  and 
some  idiot  has  sent  me  a  card  with  a  robin 
on  it,  wishing  me  "  All  the  Compliments 
of  the  Season !  " 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

An  audacious  "detrimental"  vows  vengeance, 
and  succeeds,  in  ha  dreamt,  with  reyard  to 
a  Damsel  who  has  refuted  kit  advances  on 
the  previous  eveniny  at  a  country  house. 

TUB  tiny  rilla,  that  seek  the  stream, 

Creep  through  the  heather  'neath   the 

fern, 
Unknown,  forgotten  aa  a  dream 

That  scarcely  gives  to  night  a  turn. 
The  winter  snow,  the  summer  sun, 

May  make  them  wax  and  then  decline ; 
But  in  their  purpose  they  are  One, 

Sooner  or  later  they  combine. 

Fair,  fleecy  clouds  that  fleck  the  sky 

With  little  languors  lean  and  light, 
Like  lashes  long  of  Heaven's  eye, 

Are  guileless  of  iU  thund'rous  might. 
But,  as  the  rivulet,  the  cloud 

Foregathers  heavy,  filled  with  ire, 
And  lifts  its  angry  voice  aloud, 

Charged  with  the  majesty  of  fire ! 

The  stone  that  rolls  in  yonder  reach, 

Hurled  to  and  fro  by  every  tide, 
la  but  a  plaything  of  the  beach, 

An  enemy  the  cliffs  deride. 
Yet  in  the  coming  by-and-by, 

When  fierce  the  wave  and  high  the  blast, 
The  cliffs  will  learn  their  doom  is  nigh ; 

The  pebble  wins  the  game  at  last  I 

A  man  of  worth  and  dauntless  pride 

Once  reared  a  castle  on  a  hill, 
And  thence  his  eager  foes  defied 

To  do  his  resting-place  an  ill. 
And  truly  one  by  one  they  fell, 

By  watch  and  valour  ever  cleft ; 
United,  though,  they  broke  the  spell, 

And  knight  and  castle  were  bereft  I 

There  was  a  maiden  fain  to  live 

As  princess  in  a  fragrant  land, 
And  on  1  she  said  she  would  not  give 

To  any  cavalier  her  hand. 
But  then  there  came  a  stalwart  knave — 

A  many-witted  lad  was  he — 
His  many  wits  made  her  his  slave, 

And  gladly  she  his  bride  would  be. 

This  is  a  song  I  sing  to  you 

In  feeble  rhythm,  halting  rhyme  ; 
But  'tis  the  story  still  as  true 

As  when  it  hymned  the  Birth  of  Time. 
I  will  survive  your  bitter  slight, 

Your   scathing  taunts,   your  great   dis- 
dain. 

I    will I    wake  I     By    George,    it 's 

light! 

And  I  must  catch  the  early  train ! 


Filial  Economy. 

Irate  Father  (to  young  Hopeful).  I 
thought  you  intended  to  turn  over  a  new 
leaf,  Sir! 

Young  Hopeful.  So  I  did,  but  there 
were  such  a  lot  of  blanks  on  the  old  page 
that  I  thought  it  would  be  a  pity  not  to 
fill  them  up! 

[Regins  the  New  Year  with  a  fresh 
turnover — of  parental  cash. 

At  Frangipani's  Restaurant. 

Customer  (inspecting  bill).  Here,  waitor. 
you  've  charged  me  eightpence  for  coffee ! 
I  Ve  never  paid  more  than  sixpence  before. 

Waiter.  Ah !  but.  Sir,  Signer  FRANGI- 
PANI  'ave  jost  buyed  a  new  coffee-machine. 


A  SUGGESTION  TO  MADAME  FRANCE  (t'n 
want  of  a  representative  in  London). — 
Why  not  try  the  effect  of  a  French 
polisher  on  British  oak  ? 


22 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  9,   1897. 


READY-MADE    COATS-(OF-ARMS) ;    OR,    GIVING    'EM    FITS! 


THOMAS,  VISCOUNT  B-WL-S  OF  THB  BOSPHORUS. 

Arms  :  Quarterly ;  1st,  an  heraldic  cap'en  or  cuttle-fish  sapient,  holding  in 
sinister  tentacle  a  master-mariner's  certificate ;  2nd,  two  pairs  of  ducks,  worn 
alternately  for  distinction,  displayed  proper;  3rd,  on  a  mount  arabesque  a 
diminutive  cavalier  in  his  glory  urgent  (motto,  "Noctem  in  rotingro"); 
4th,  an  eastern  khalif  or  sultan  on  a  field  sanguine,  charged  with  a  halo  for 
benevolence.  Crest :  A  demi  superior  purzon  erect  collared,  semee  of  hurts 
displaying  regal  hauteur,  charged  in  the  middle  with  a  nautical  telescope 
effrontee.  Supporters :  Two  sea-dogs  or  antique  "  saults "  regardant 
tinobretose,  arrayed  all  proper,  couped  at  the  elbow  and  knee,  and  the  limbs 
replaced  by  artifice. 


BARON  B-HTL-TT  OF  SHEFFIELD. 

Anns  :  Quarterly ;  1st,  sable  a  turkish  imperial  star  and  crescent  quixoti- 
cally flaunted  (motto,  "  Without  stain  ") ;  2nd,  a  swazi  chieftain  dancette, 
labelled  "Silomo,"  armed  and  accoutred  proper,  and  habited— well,  ahem!— 
suitably  to  a  tropical  climate;  3rd,  on  an  heraldic  provincial  platform  a  knight 
rampant  and  demonstrant  charged  with  a  peroration  grandiloquent  to  the  last; 
4th,  a  private  chart  proper,  showing  the  principal  ports  and  soundings  on  the 
coast  of  Poland,  discovered  and  surveyed  by  the  present  baron.  Crest :  An 
american'or  spread-eagle  bearing  the  union-jack  displayed,  over  all  a  sun  in 
splendour  which  never  sets.  Supporters :  Dexter,  a  more  or  less  british  lion  in 
fury  bearing  a  fire-arm  proper  periodically  discharged  at  random ;  sinister,  a 
russian  bug-bear  passe  and  out  at  elbows,  suitably  bound  for  transport  to  the 
wilds  of  hysteria.  Second  motto  :  "  Oh,  Swaziland !  my  Swaziland!  " 


IN  THE  LONDON  FOG. 

"B.  AND  S."  writes  as  follows  from 
Chick  weed  Park,  Hants  :  — 

In  the  interest  of  science  it  may  be 
well  to  record  a  plain  statement  of  the 
impression  made  on  the  overwrought  and 
peculiar  organisations  of  two  individuals 
by  the  fog  in  London  the  other  night. 
The  night  of  its  appearance  I  was  stay- 
ing at  the  Grand  Hotel,  Northumberland 
Avenue;  with  a  friend,  and  we  both  sallied 
forth  dmnerless  by  way  of  the  Strand  to 
the  Gaiety  Theatre,  stopping  several  times 
en  route — the  journey  from  Charing  Cross 
occupying  just  over  two  hours.  We  agreed 
to  sup  after  the  play.  On  arriving  at  the 
theatre  we  both  experienced  a  dull,  dead 
depression  of  the  brain,  and  neither  of  us 
can  even  now  tell  what  was  the  name  of  the 
piece,  or  what  it  was  all  about.  How  we 
gat  back  to  the  Grand  through  the  murky 
gloom  I  know  not.  Our  symptoms  can 
only  be  described  as  those  of  semi- 
stupidity,  and  the  hotel  porter,  who  helped 
us  into  bed,  was  clearly  of  opinion  that  we 
had  had  too  much  chloral,  for  he  begged 
us  to  be  careful  with  the  matches.  We 
slept  dead-dog  sleeps,  unconscious  of 
everything,  and  woke  late  the  next  morn- 
ing, incapable  of  eating  breakfast.  There 
was  a  kind  of  buzzing  in  my  head,  with  a 
nauseating  desire  to  avoid  food.  We  re- 
solved to  return  to  the  country  at  once. 
Somehow  we  reached  Waterloo  station, 
and  were  rolled  like  milk  cans  into  the 
train.  What  happened  during  the  jour- 
ney neither  of  us  knows,  but  luckily  the 
guard  was  an  old  friend,  and  pulled  us 
out  at  the  right  station.  Still  the  same 
stupor  oppressed  ui,  and  when  we  got 


home  the  manservant  and   the   gardener 
had  to  carry  us  upstairs. 

Next  day  I  awoke,  feeling  no  better,  and 
discovered  that  I  had  retired  to  rest  in  my 
hat,  placed  my  boots  under  the  pillow,  hung 
my  trousers  out  of  the  window,  and  put 
my  watch  and  chain  in  the  water-jug. 
On  crawling  to  my  friend's  room,  I  found 
that  he  was  nowhere  visible,  and  his 
couch  had  not  been  slept  upon.  Seriously 
alarmed,  I  was  about  to  pull  the  bell  for 
assistance,  when  I  heard  stertorous  noises 
proceeding  from  the  wardrobe,  one  of 
the  roomy  old-fashioned  kind.  My  poor 
friend  was  doubled  up  in  it,  feebly  calling 
"steward."  I  summoned  assistance,  and 


SUGGESTION  FOR  NEW  COINAGE. 

View  of  St.  George  on  Motor-car  and  the  Dragon. 


had  him,  despite  my  own  wretched  plight, 
carefully  tucked  up  in  bed.  We  slept  for 
fifty-three  hours,  with  intervals  for  the 
consumption  of  soda  water.  This  evening 
I  am  rather  better,  but  it  has  taken 
me  all  day  to  write  this  letter.  The 
swollen  feeling  of  pur  heads  is  decreas- 
ing, but  the  burning  pain  of  the  eye- 
balls, the  shaking  of  our  hands,  and 
the  parched  condition  of  our  tongues,  re- 
main. What  has  happened  to  us?  Will 
any  scientist  explain?  The  moral  is,  in 
any  case,  avoid  London  fogs.  There  can 
be  no  doubt  that  they  contain  a  brumous 
poison  of  hypnotic  power.  Will  chemists 
analyse  it?  If  so,  our  sufferings  will  not 
have  been  useless,  since  humanity  will 
profit  by  them. 

[We  gladly  print  the  above  remarkable  expe- 
riences, but  are  disposed  to  believe,  from  internal 
evidence,  that  it  was  intended  for  a  largely  cir- 
culated daily  contemporary. — ED.] 


At  the  Sweedletopshire  County  Ball. 

Lady  Patroness  (to  Mr.  MacNifico  (of 
MacNifieo),  who  sits,  like  Eugene  Aram, 
"apart  from  all,  a  melancholy  man"). 
Now,  I  positively  must  introduce  you  to 
someone  I 

Mr.  MacN.  (crushingly).  But  there  is 
positively  nobody  in  the  room ! 

[Retires,  and  spends  the  rest  of  the  night  in 
despatching  five-shilling  New  Year's  Cards 
to  Members  of  the  Aristocracy. 


WHAT  THB  LOVEBS  OF  ECCLESIASTICAL 
ARCHITECTURE  LONG  FOR  IN  CONNECTION 
WITH  PETERBOROUGH  CATHEDRAL.  —  The 
end  of  the  Chapter. 


JANUARY  9,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


23 


ALADDIN  AT  THE  LANE ;  OR,  NEW  LAMPS  FOR  OLD  ONES. 

HHILLIANT  and  artistic  in  costumes  and  kaleidoscopic  effects  of 
colour,  tuneful  in  song  (you  hear  a  good  deal  of  the  Barrett- 
tone  in  it),  graceful  in  dance,  full  of  go"  as  long  as  Miss  ADA 
BLANCHE  is  on  the  stage,  and  arousing  the  crowded  house  to  in- 
extinguishable laughter  whenever  that  most  eccentric  comedian 
Mr.  DAN  LBNO  is  very  much  "in  evidence,"  supported  by  the 
burly-esque  actor,  Mr.  HEBBEKT  CAMPBELL,  who  may  be  con- 
sidered as  representing  the  breadth  of  the  piece,  and  by  tall  Mr. 
FRITZ  RI.MMA  representing  the  length,  the  Pantomime  at  Old 
Drury  has  entered  on  a  successful  career. 

Its  concoctors,  Messrs.  STURGESS  and  LENNAHD,  practised  hands 
at  this  sort  of  work,  can  now  afford  to  cut  out  and  compress  ; 
and  they  would  not  have  had  to  do  this  had  they  gone  straight 
away  with  the  old  familiar  story,  and  had  they  "come  to 
Hecuba  "  in  four  scenes  instead  of  in  seven.  It  is  a  tribute  to  the 
arrangement  and  general  supervision  of  Mr.  OSCAR  BARRETT  to 


I  " 


Dun  Drury  Lcno  as  The  Second  Mrs.  Twankayray. 


say  that,  from  first  to  last,   Aladdin  is  very  "ft 
being"   in  the    least    "vulgar."     Thank    goodness 
"  topical  song  "  ;   while  of  "hits  of  the  day  "  there 
and  even  these  could  be  spared. 
Trap  de  luxe  in  the   costumes. 


funny  without 
there  is  no 
are  but  few, 


Why  run  into  the  extrava- 
gance of  three  grand  transformation  scenes,  when  one  would  be 
ample  ?  Why  divide  the  pantomime  in  two  parts,  when  the 
whole  house  would  be  content  if,  commencing  (as  it  does  now) 
at  7.30,  it  finished,  harlequinade  and  all,  by  just  five  minutes  to 
eleven  ? 

Miss  ADA  BLANCHE,  prince  of  burlesque  princes,  is  admirable 
as  Aladdin,  working  with  a  will  that  would  keep  going  even  a 
less  successful  extravaganza.  DECIMA  MOORE  is  a  sweet 
Radroulbnudour.  Miss  CLARA  JBCKS  is  full  of  vivacity  as  a  little 
Chinese  maid ;  Miss  PILLANS  is  a  stylish  Prince  Pekoe,  and  Mr. 
ERNEST  D'AUBAN  shows  himself  worthy  of  the  family  name  by 
his  capital  impersonation  of  the  small  part  of  the  dancing-master. 


DAN  LBNO  as  Widow  Twankay  is  inimitable!  Whether  he 
smirks,  or  stares,  or  smiles,  or  frowns,  or  bows,  or  curtseys, 
or  stumbles,  or  runs,  or  dances,  or  attempts  to  sing,  or  has  a 
dialogue  with  HERBERT  CAMPBELL,  or  is  thoroughly  happy  or 
thoroughly  upset,  it  doesn't  matter  what  he  does,  the  house  is 
at  once  in  roars  of  laughter.  The  audience  cannot  have  enough 
of  him,  and  he  never  overdoes  anything. 


Hephisto  Campbell  and  Blanche  a  la  "  Show." 


This  version  of  Aladdin,  "  partly  founded  on  the  scenario  of 
the  late  Sir  AUGUSTUS  HARRIS,"  as  written  by  Messrs.  STUBGESS 
andl/BNNARD,  with  Mr.  OSCAR  BARRETT'S  music  and  management, 
may  be  described  as  a  something  much  more  than  a  "  Sturgess 
and  Lennard-eum-Barrett-we  success,"  since,  judging  from  it* 
reception  by  a  densely  crowded  house  on  the  fifth  night  of  its 
existence,  which  was  its  ninth  representation,  it  seems  likely 
in  every  way  to  rival  the  most  popular  of  its  popular  prede- 
cessors. May  the  New  Lamps  at  Drury  Lane  burn  as  brilliantly 
as  did  the  Old  ones.  So  mote  it  be ! 


The  Jolly  Monarch  of  the  Spree. 

(Rffrain  of  Song  Heard  recently  by  a  Correspondent  at  Berlin.) 

"  AND  this  is  the  moral  of  my  song,  which  must,  and  always,  be  : 
I  care  for  NOBODY,  no  not  1 1  if  NOBODY  cares  for  me !  " 


How  DID  HE  GET  THERE  P — A  correspondent  of  the  Dotty  Tele- 
graph, referring  to  Ventnor,  says,  "  Here  is  a  town  on  English 
soil  where  the  fairest  northern  winter  sunshine  may  be  enjoyed 
without  crossing  the  seas."  Has  the  long-talked-of  tunnel  be- 
tween the  mainland  and  the  Isle  of  Wight  been  constructed  ?  or 
has  one  of  the  legendary  submarine  passages  been  discovered  ?  or 
have  Spithead  and  the  Solent  dried  up?  The  writer  should 
really  give  his  reasons  for  his  startling  statement. 


LITERARY  INTELLIGENCE. — It  is  announced  that  "Sir  ROBERT 
PBEL'S  novel,  A  Bit  of  a  Fool,  will  be  published  early  in  Janu- 
ary." We  understand  that  the  work  is  not  autobiographical  in 
character. 

HE  MUST  TRAVEL  ACROSS  SOMETHING. — The  Globe  states  that 
Mr.  H.  M.  STANLEY  left  Dover  for  Calais  on  December  29. 


CABBY  calls  the  new  auto-cars  his  motormentors. 


24 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  9,  1897. 


THE    BEST    OF    ALL! 

Anxiom  Mother.  "WELL,  BOBBY,  AND  now  DID  YOU  BEHAVE  AT 
THE  PARTY?" 

Hobby.  "On,  MUMMY,  I  DIDN'T  BEHAVE  AT  ALL.  I  WAS  QUITE 
GOOD  ! " 


THE  MOST  LEARNED  PROFESSION. 

(Some further  Correspondence.     See  last  week's  "  Times."} 

SIR, — As  all  the  campaigns  in  the  future  will  be  conducted 
entirely  upon  paper,  I  venture  to  suggest  that  the  test  provided 
for  the  efficiency  of  Army  candidates  by  the  proposed  Wool- 
wich entrance  syllabus  cannot  be  described  as  unduly  severe. 
The  sooner,  in  fact,  that  the  standard  is  raised  by  the  introduc- 
tion of  Obligatory  Quantics  and  Dynamics  of  the  Fourth  Dimen- 
sion, the  better  for  the  service  and  for  all  concerned.  What, 
I  ask,  will  be  the  use  of  our  coming  generals  if,  at  the  age  of 
seventeen,  they  are  unable  to  floor  a  five  hours'  paper  in  ele- 
mentary subjects  such  as  these,  which  are  so  highly  necessary 
for  a  military  career  ?  What  will  become  of  their  Intelligence 
Department  if  each  budding  lieutenant  has  not,  at  an  early 
stage,  mastered  by  heart  so  rudimentary  an  acquirement  as  a 
knowledge  of  CHAMBERS'  10,000  logarithms  to  seven  places  ?  I 
tremble  to  think  of  their  certain  breakdown  in  time  of  war,  in 
grim  and  real  earnest,  if  these  important  qualifications  are  neg- 
lected. Let  the  country  awake  to  its  responsibilities  in  time ! 
I  am,  Sir,  your  obedient  servant, 

A  PROFESSOR  OP  HIGHER  MATHEMATICS. 

SIR, — Class  II.  in  the  Syllabus  for  Army  Candidates  might, 
with  advantage,  be  extended.  Metallurgy,  the  art  of  ceramics, 
high-class  undertaking,  scientific  dress-making,  legerdemain, 
the  theory  of  top-dressing,  dentistry,  thought-reading, 
French  cookery,  plate-laying,  the  use  of  the  tammy,  and  window- 
gardening  should  all  be  included  in  the  education  of  our  future 
warriors.  You  never  know  when  an  odd  little  piece  of  out-of- 
the-way  knowledge  may  not  be  useful  in  dealing  with  the  foe. 
Yours  fatuously,  WHITE  KNIGHT. 

SIR,— I  trust,  I  sincerely  trust  that  these"  Army  entrance  ex- 
aminations will  be  discontinued.  We  are  already  becoming 
inconveniently  crowded.  Our  officers  had  better  be  made  in 
Germany.  Yours,  HANWELL. 

SIR, — It  would  be  well  to  introduce  the  Chinese  system 
here.  We  want  genuine  literati  in  command  of  our  battalions. 
Until  archaeology  and  anthropology  are  taken  up  in  a  less 
half-hearted  way  than  at  present,  I  fear  our  existing  system 


of  cramming  can  hardly  be  considered  complete.  What  we 
want  is  the  production  of  a  corps  of  thoroughly  nice  and  gentle- 
manly bookworms,  well-versed  in  the  literature  of  war,  to  con- 
duct our  theoretical  military  operations  in  the  future. 

Yours  obediently,  BEDRIDDEN. 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

THE  Colossus  was  content  to  bridge  the  harbour  that  opened 
on  to  Rhodes.  In  The  Yoke  of  Empire  (MACMILLAN),  Mr. 
REGINALD  BRETT  strides  across  five  Prime  Ministers,  and 
pats  approvingly  on  the  shoulder  the  Sovereign  they  have 
served.  Incidentally  he  remarks  that  a  rival  commentor  on 
history,  one  MACAT/LAT,  "possessed  a  genius  for  commonplace." 
The  Equator  does  not  come  in,  or,  with  even  more  certainty 
than  SYDNEY  SMITH  attributed  to  JEFFREY,  Mr.  BRETT  would 
have  spoken  disrespectfully  of  it.  As  it  is,  he  is  occasionally 
above  the  rules  of  grammar,  speaking,  for  example,  of  Mr. 
GLADSTONE'S  "  relation  to  "  the  QUEEN.  What  he  related  is  not 
reported.  Minor  authorities  would  probably  have  written  of  the 
ex-Premier's  "  relations  with  "  Her  Majesty.  These  little  foibles 
apart;  Mr.  BRETT  deals  with  an  interesting  subject  in  a  bright, 
occasionally  a  picturesque,  manner.  A  fault  in  style,  if  fault 
may  be  hinted  in  such  connection,  is  that,  treating  each  chap- 
ter as  if  it  were  a  platform  speech,  he  rounds  it  off  with  a  pero- 
ration— a  breathlessly  long  sentence,  such  as  only  Mr.  GLADSTONE 
might  be  counted  upon  to  deliver  without  stumbling.  The 
volume  is  enriched  by  half-a-dozen  portraits,  of  themselves  worth 
more  than  its  price.  That  of  Mr.  GLADSTONE  is,  my  Baronite 
says,  the  very  best  presented  of  him  during  the  last  ten  ypnrs. 

With  respect  to  Echoes  from  the,  Oxford  Magazine,  published 
some  time  ago,  we  are  all  of  Oliver  Twist's  mind,  and  want 
"  More."  Mr.  HENRY  FROWDE,  ever  ready  to  oblige,  has  issued 
a  second  series,  under  the  title,  More  Echoes.  They  are,  like  the 
contents  of  the  preceding  volume,  culled  from  the  luxuriant 
garden  of  the  Oxford  Magazine,  having  come  up  between  1889 
and  1896.  In  a  prologue,  presumably  written  specially  for  this 
volume,  "  Q,"  an  early  contributor  to  the  Oxford  Magazine, 
shows  what  strength  and  perfect  finish  may  be  acquired  as  time 
flies  and  practice  grows.  A  few  of  the  colts  are  a  little  wild, 
presenting  in  their  lightheartedness  some  amazing  rhymes.  Ex- 
ceedingly clever  are  Mr.  MERRY'S  "  Afternoon  Sermons  at  St. 
Mary's,"  and  T.  R.'s  "  Meister  Wilhelm  in  Oxford,"  which  has  a 
fine  smack  of  CANNING'S  verse  in  the  old  Jacobin.  As  for  Mr. 
GODLEY,  he  is  an  acrobat,  almost  a  contortionist  in  rhyme.  He 
can,  my  Baronite  protests,  do  anything  he  pleases  with  syllables, 
has  even  wriggled  a  passable  rhyme  out  of  the  apparently  im- 
possible DEMOSTHENES.* 

•  The  Baron  has  not  seen  the  book  reviewed  by  his  Baronite,  but,  inspired, 
lie  proposes  an  original  couplet: 

"  I  send  vou  a  statue :  regret  it  has  ]nst  »he  knees ; 
"Tis  otherwise  perfect.     They  say  'tis  DEMOSTHENES." 

BARON  DE  B.-W. 

B.ath»r  Mixed. 

THE  following  is  from  The  Irish  Timf*  on  "  Landslips," 
December  31. 

"  To  feel  the  solid  earth  rock  beneath  his  fc>ct,  fn  have  his  natural  foothold 
on  the  globe's  surface  swept,  so  to  speak,  out  of  his  grasp,  is  to  the  stoutest 
heart  of  man  terrifying  in  the  extreme." 

FROM   OUR   OWN    IRREPRESSIBLE. 

Q.  The  name  of  a  long-ago  celebrated  fat  French  conjurer 
reminds  one  of  a  Christmas  dish.  \Vhat  is  that  dish,  and  what  is 
the  name  of  the  conjurer? 

A.  Plump-Houdin,  naturally. 

NOTE  BY  OUR  OWN  GOURMET  ON  THE  COMMON  SENSE  OF  SWINE. 
— You  may  cast  myriads  of  pearls  before  the  porker  of  commerce, 
and  he  will  treat  them  with  disdain,  but  throw  a  single  truffle  in 
his  way,  and  lo  and  behold !  what  a  self-satisfied  epicure  does  he 
become !  This  fable  shows  that  pigs  have  more  refined  apprecia- 
tion of  the  good  things  of  this  world  than  many  would-be  fine 
ladies. 

Ember-Cinders. 

Lancelot  (studying  almanack).  Mother,  what's  an  Ember  day  ? 
Mother.  One  which   we   have  to  endure,   when  your  father's 
forgotten  to  order  the  coals  as  he  did  yesterday. 

APHORISM  (by  a  female  philosopher). — Blue  Woman  is  often 
a  sufferer  by  Black  Mail. 


JANUARY  16,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


SONGS    AND    THEIR    SINGERS.      No.   V. 


AN  IMPALED  BURT. 

MR.  Alderman  BVBT,  of  Richmond,  Surrey,  is,  according  to 
the  Morning  and  other  papers,  endeavouring  to  spoil  the  view 
from  the  Terrace  by  advocating  the  substitution  of  an  iron  fence 
for  the  picturesque  holly  and  thorn  hedge  between  the  hill  and 
the  sloping  meadow.  Richmond  without  its  view  would  be  like 
Hamkt  minus  the  Prince  of  DENMARK.  This  doubtless  worthy 
and  possibly  eminent  citizen  should  remember  that  "it  is  an  ill 
Burt  which  fouls  its  own  nest."  But  perhaps  the  alderman  is 
like  the  proverbial  cuckoo,  and  has  laid  his  municipal  egg  on 
premises  which  scarcely  concern  him.  In  any  case,  Mr.  Punch 
recommends  this  particular  Burt  to  respect  the  wishes  of  the 
dwellers  on  the  Terrace  in  particular,  and  the  landscape-lovers 
of  the  world  in  general,  and  should  he  be  a  reflective  Burt,  like 
the  jackdaw,  to  remember  that  hedges  always  afford  more  con- 
venient shelter  than  the  best  gilt-topped  metal  clothes-props  ever 
constructed.  The  terrible  desecration  of  the  walk  just  inside 
the  Park  gates  should  convince  even  the  Corporation  of  Rich- 
mond that  the  Age  of  Stone  and  the  Age  of  Iron  cannot  redeem 
affronts  offered  to  the  Age  of  Nature.  Therefore,  Mr.  Punch 
trusts  that,  like  Folly,  this  particular  Burt  will  (metaphorically) 
be  shot  flying  as  he  wings  his  way  Desart-wards  over  the  Peter- 
sham Meadows. 

NEW  INSTRUMENT  (invented  by  Professor  Punch  for  thf  UK  of 
juvenile,  musical  prodigies). — The  Pianissimo-fortissimo.  On  salj 
nowhere  at  present. 


FOR  HIS  SHANDY  VOLUME. 

DBAB  MR.  PUNCH, — Taking  the  hint  so  wisely  given  by  you.  I 
have  attempted  a  children's  edition  of  one  of  the  works  of  a 
famous  ancestor,  of  which  I  enclose  a  specimen  chapter.  I  trus*, 
your  printer  will  see  fit  to  preserve  the  dots  as  they  stand  in  the 
copy-  LAURKNTIA  "*"• 

What  a  chapter  of  chances,  said  my  father,  turning  himself 
about  upon  the  first  landing  as  be  and  .  .  TOBT  were  going 
down  stairs — what  a  long  chapter  of  chances  do  the  events  of 
this  world  lay  open  _to  us  1  Take  pen  and  ink  in  hand  .  TOBT, 
and  calculate  it  fairly  ....  I  know  no  more  of  calculation 
than  this  balustrade,  said  .  .  TOBT  (striking  short  of  it  .  .  . 
and  hitting  my  father  a  desperate  blow  sonse  on  the  shin- 
bone).  'Twas  a  hundred  to  one,  cried  .  .  TOBT  ....  I 
thought,  quoth  my  father  (rubbing  his  shin),  you  had  known 
nothing  of  calculations  .  TOBT  ....  'Twas  a  mere  chance, 
said  .  .  TOBT  ....  Then  it  adds  one  to  the  chapter,  said  my 
father. 


•      •      •      •; — —    What  a  lucky  chapter 

of  chances  has  this  turned  out  I  for  it  has  saved  me  the  trouble 
of  writing  one  express,  and,  in  truth,  I  have  enow  already  upon 
my  hands  without  it.  Have  not  I  promised  the  world  a  chapter 

of  knots  ?  two  chapters  upon  .  right  and  .  wrong P  » 

chapter  upon  whiskers?  a  chapter  upon  wishes?  a  chapter  of 

roses  ? — no,  I  have  done  that ; P    To  say  nothing  of 

a  chapter  upon  chapters,  which  I  shall  finish  before  I  sleep. 
By  my  great-grandfather's  whiskers,  I  shall  never  get  half  of  'em 
through  this  year. 

Take   pen   and   ink  and   calculate  it  fairly  .  TOBT,   said  my 
father,  and  it  will 

:      •      • break  down  the 

fortunes  of  our  house  .  . 

It  might  have  been  worse,  replied     .  .     TOBT 


My  father  reflected  half  a  minute — looked  down — touched  the 
middle  of  his  forehead  slightly  with  his  finger — True,  said  he. 


THE  DUELLIST'S  VADE  MECUM.   • 

(From  the  German.) 

Question.  From  the  point  of  view  of  an  officer  and  a  Teuton,  is 
duelling  to  be  discouraged  ? 

Answer.  To  an  officer  it  is  undoubtedly  a  necessity,  although 
to  a  civilian  it  may  be  considered  a  superfluity. 

Q.  Why  is  it  a  necessity  ? 

A.  Because'  the  Kaiser  considers  the  honour  of  the  uniform  of 
paramount  importance,  and  that  honour  can  only,  nnder  certain 
circumstances,  be  protected  by  the  sword. 

Q.  And  when  is  duelling  a  superfluity  P 

A.  At  times  when  the  Emperor  regards  the  practice  as  immoral 
from  a  civilian  point  of  view. 

Q.  How  can  you  reconcile  the  two  views  P 

A.  By  appealing  to  a  Court  of  Honour. 

Q.  \V  ill  this  coarse  be  invariably  satisfactory  P 

A.  Certainly  not,  as  it  may  cause  a  delay  derogatory  to  the 
Emperor's  uniform. 

Q.  And  this  unavenged  insult  will  merit  punishment  at  the 
hands  of  the  head  of  the  army  ? 

A.  It  will ;  and  consequently  it  may  be  desirable  to  act  with- 
out waiting  for  tie  decision  of  the  Court. 

Q.  But  supposing  an  officer  yields  to  this  impulse  and  calls  out 
his  opponent,  what  will  be  the  probable  result  P 

A.  That  he  will  be  reported  to  the  Emperor  for  disobedience. 

Q.  And  what  will  be  the  consequence  P 

A.  He  will  run  the  risk  of  being  cashiered,  or  incur  some 
punishment  of  equal  gravity. 

Q.  In  this  event,  will  the  Emperor  act  as  head  of  the  army  or 
ruler  of  the  State  ? 

A.  It  matters  little  whether  one  or  the  other,  or  both. 

Q.  You  consider  the  result  will  be  the  same  ? 

A.  Unquestionably  ;  and  there  seems  to  be  no  way  out  of  the 
difficulty. 

Q.  Then  the  officer  and  the  Teuton  will  find  himself  in  an  un- 
pleasant position  at  all  times? 

A.  He  will  discover  himself  impaled  on  the  horns  of  a  dilemma. 

Q.  Is  there  anypossible  solution  to  the  problem  ? 

A.  But  one.  The  best  thing  he  can  do  is  to  resign  his  com- 
mission, prior  to  residing  permanently  in  London,  and  becoming  a 
naturalised  Englishman. 

Q.  Would  such  a  course  be  patriotic? 

A.  Scarcely,  but  something  wiser — infinitely  more  convenient. 


VOL.    CXII. 


26 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  16,  1897. 


GOING    TOO    FAR. 

Right  Bon.  J-s-ph  Ch-mb-rl-n  (in his  Orchid-house).  "EHODES  MAY  SAY  WHAT  HE  LIKES  ABOUT  'UNCTUOUS  RECTITUDE,    EOT  WHEN  HJS 

SPKAKS  DISRESPECTFULLY  OF  MY   ORCHID /  /  " 

["  You  know  every  man  muat  do  something     Some  people  grow  orchids."— Extract  from  Mr.  Ctcil  JthoM  Sp«vh  at  the  Guildhall,  Capttoirn.-} 


JANUARY  16,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


27 


. 


MUSIC    HATH    CHARMS. 

Rector's  Daughter.  "  You  HAVEN'T  JOINED  THE  CHORAL  CLASS,  MR.  HARRINGTON.     WE  HAVB  BUCHTFUN,  YOU  KNOW. 
Bachelor  Squire.  "CHORAL  CLASS!    WHY  I  HAVEN'T  AN  ATOM  or  VOICE!"  , 

Rector  a  Daughter.  "On,  THAT  DOESN'T  MATTER  IN  THE  LEAST.     WE  NONE  OF  us  HAVE!    Do  COME!" 


<£>.- 


NOTES  AND  QUERIES. 

(On  Rhodesian  Eloquence  at  Capetown.) 

Is  it  quite  fitting  that  a  man  should  come 
"  To  face  the  music  "  beating  the  big  drum 
And  blowing  his  own  trumpet  P  Is  "  the 

love 

Of  our  own  country"  always  quite  above 
Suspicion  of  the  love  of  grabbing  bits 
Of  other   people's   countries  P     Judgment 

sits 

Even  on  new  Napoleons  1    Crude  and  rude 
Jeers    about    England's   "unctuous   recti- 
tude " 
Suggest  there  is  a   difference,   clear  and 

strong, 
'Twixt  rectitude  —  though  unctuous — and 

sheer  wrong^ 

"  Vulgar  colloquialism."    Bless  my  heart! 
We  fancied  you  considered  slang  so  smart  1 
"One  thought  and  one  ideal."     Splendid 

brag! 

A  burglar  has  it,  and  its  name  is  "  swag." 
"Expansion's  everything."  Yet  one  raay 

dread 
That     species    which    the    Yankees    call 

"swelled  head." 
"  Balance  of  unclaimed  country  ?  "    A  neat 

name! 
But — is    there    no    such    thing    as    prioi 

claim  ? 

And  it  might  seem  'tis  not  alone  the  Dutch 
Who  give  too  little  and  who  ask  too  much. 
"  The  devil  take  the  hindmost "  sounded 

grand; 

Now  "  let  the  foremost  take  the  hinter- 
land " 

Appears  to  supersede  that  ancient  saw. 
Roll  over  "rectitude,"  and  banUh  law ; 


"All  put  their  shoulder  to  the  wheel?" 

Quite  so. 

But  let  it  be  the  common  weal,  you  know  ! 
Even  if  you're  the  "hub."    It  is  no  joke 
In  all   wheels   save   one's   own   to-  nut  a 

spoke. 

"  No  foreign  interference."  Goodj  as  such  1 
But   might  not   KRUGEB   and  his   sturdy 

Dutch 

Quote  it  against  the  raiders  ?    Sauce's  use 
By  a  shrewd  gander  may  not  please  the 

goose: 

But  then,  'twill  need  a  modern  ALEXANDER 
To  give  monopoly  to  goose  or  gander. 
Be  orchids  or  expansion  a  man's  hobby, 
To  sneer  at  it  unfairly 's  small  and  snobby. 
Right 's  right,  and  Englishmen  will  give 

fair  trial 
To    one    who 's    brave    and    British   past 

denial. 

Though  Mr.  FULLER,  in  his  genial  way, 
Donbta  that  hia  favourite  wul  have  "  fair 

play." 
Fret  not,  my  FULLER,  only  hounds  would 

hound 
A  brave  man  beyond  reason's  clear-narked 

bound. 
But  there  are  rules  in  National  Honour's 

Codes, 

That  even  a  NAPOLEON  or  a  RHODES 
Must  be  content  to  bide  by  in  these  days. 
Justice    must    now    distribute    blame    or 

praise, 

Not  with  a  partial  love  or  hatred  crude. 
But — if  you  don't  object — with  Rectitude  I 


MOST  APPROPRIATE  NAME  FOR  THE  PRE- 
SIDENT OF  THE  MINER'S  MEETING  AT  LEI- 
CESTER.— Pick-(h)ard. 


TURKISH  FARCE  AND  RUSSIAN  TRAGEDY. 

SCENE— Constantinople.    Tint:— The  Present. 

MISCREANT  and  MUSCOVITE  discovered 
discoursing. 

Miscreant  (surprised).  And  so  you  at 
last  oppose  me ! 

Muscovite  (sternly).  I  do,  for  at  length 
you  have  gone  too  far. 

Miscreant  (still  astonished).  And  yet  I 
was  permitted  to  massacre  I 

Muscovite  (gravely).  You  were,  because, 
after  all,  you  did  what  you  pleased  with 
your  own. 

Miscreant  (evasively)-  And  I  was  allowed 
to  misgovern  I 

Muscovite  (as  before).  Yes;  it  was  your 
affair,  and  not  mine. 

Miscreant  (reproach fully)-  And  wa8  P61"' 
mitted  to  justify  my  title  to  "the  Great 
Assassin  I " 

Muscovite  (indifferently).  Why  not? 

Miscreant  (tearfully).  And  now,  at  a 
moment's  notice,  you  have  turned  round 
upon  me,  and  threaten  me  with  "unplea- 
sant consequences."  What  have  I  done  to 
merit  this  rebuke  P 

Muscovite  (with  difficulty  suppressing^  a 
feeling  of  almost  ungovernable  rage).  \ou 
have  dared  to  propose  to  tamper  with  my 
securities ! 

Miscreant.  Then  what  is  more  impor- 
tant than  human  life  P 

Muscovite  (with  tremendous  emphasis). 
Cash,  Sir,  Cash  I 

[Scene  doses  in  upon  the  financial 
situation. 


28 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  16,  1897. 


THE    BATH-CHAIR    OF    THE    FUTURE. 


THE   ROAST  BEEF  OF  NEW  ENGLAND! 

(The  Pitiful  New  Year's  Plaint  of  an  Old-Style  Patriot.) 
AIR—"  The  Boast  Beef  of  Old  England  !  " 

"  When  mighty  roast  beef  was  the  Englishman's  food, 
It  ennobled  our  hearts  and  enriched  our  blood." 
So  ran  the  old  song,  and  it  does  my  heart  good. 
Oh,  the  roast  beef  of  Old  England  I 
And  oh  for  Old  England's  roast  beef ! 

But  now — well  to  get  it  a  man  tries  in  vain. 
From  Australia,  America,  prairie  and  plain, 
What  the  Butchers  call  British  beef  comes  o'er  the  main. 
Oh,  the  roast  beef  of  New  England,  &c. 

Like  good  old  Cheshire  cheese,  ribston  pippins,  sound  ale, 
British  beef  seems  a  thing  that  is  gone  beyond  hail. 
If  you  try  to  procure  it  you  '11  probably  fail. 
Oh,  the  roast  beef,  &c. 

"  British  beef  I  "     'Twas  the  synonym  once  for  true  pluck, 
But  now — like  the  beef — it  seems  frozen,  worse  luck  ! 
BULL  argufies  now  where  he  once  would  have  struck. 
Oh,  the  roast  beef,  &c. 

British  beef  ?     Not  at  all ;  we  are  on  a  new  course, 
F_eed  on  "  Extract  "  and  "  Essence  " — most  likely  of  horse  ! 
Not  beef,  but  beef-tea  must  now  keep  up  our  force. 
Oh,  the  roast  beef,  &c. 

Then  sing,  "  Oh,  the  beef-tea  of  Old  England  1 "     Our  shops 
No  longer  sell  English  rump-steaks,  British  chops ; 
Foreign  meat's  our  new  pabulum,  varied  by  slops  I 

Oh,  the  roast  beef  of  Old  England! 

Alas  for  Old  England's  roast  beef ! 


THE  ORANGE  FKEB  STATK.— The  state  of  the  London  Pave- 
ments during  the  orange  season. 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

If  Launce  Kennedy  had  been  somewhat  less  garrulous,  Mr. 
CROCKETT'S  latest  novel,  The  Grey  Man  (FISHER  UNWJN),  would 
have  been  more  delectable.  In  telling  this  story,  Launce  so 
overloads  the  narrative  with  detail  as  frequently  to  defeat  his 
purpose  of  making  things  clear.  Its  progress  is  with  direful 
industry  drearily  halted.  At  certain  epochs,  Launce  rises 
above  temptation,  and  lapses  into  clear,  strong,  picturesque 
narrative  that  has  not,  my  Baronite  assures  me,  been  excelled 
by  WALTER  SCOTT  or  STEVENSON.  Once  this  haps  where  he 
carries  the  challenge  of  his  master  to  the  Laird  of  Kerse.  Again 
he  shakes  off  the  thrall  of  prolixity  when  he  pictures  the  trial 
and  execution  of  the  Grey  Man.  In  these  two  passages  the 
incidents  are  so  dramatic,  the  movement  so  swift,  the  description 
so  picturesque,  as  to  atone  for  the  otherwise  prevalent  fault. 

It  is  a  pity  BROWNING  has  not  lived  to  see  the  beautiful 
edition  of  his  poetical  works  just  published.  Messrs.  SMITH, 
ELDER  have  for  one  issue  had  recourse  to  the  magic  India  paper 
of  the  Oxford  University  Press.  The  result  is  that  the  seventeen 
volumes  in  which  the  poems  originally  saw  the  light  are  given  in  a 
book  of  less  than  eight  hundred  pages,  legibly  printed,  much 
lighter  than  an  ordinary  volume  of  its  size,  and  bound  in  royal 
crimson  morocco.  It  is  an  edition  de  luxe  without  the  necessity, 
once  pictured  in  these  pages,  of  the  hapless  owner  lying  prone  on 
the  floor  with  the  mammoth  book  open  before  him ,  that  being  the 
most  convenient  way  of  mastering  its  contents.  In  addition  to 
this  gem  of  the  printers'  and  bookbinders'  craft  the  publishers 
issue  a  complete  cheap  edition  of  the  works  in  two  volumes  of 
ordinary  library  fashion.  Mr.  AUGUSTINE  BIRRELL  edits  it, 
and  helps  the  unconverted  by,  as  he  modestly  puts  it.  ex- 
plaining in  the  margin  the  meaning  of  "  such  words  as  might,  if 
left  unexplained,  momentarily  arrest  the  understanding  of  the 
reader."  There  are  some  who  are  most  fully  in  accord  with 
BROWNING  when  he  writes, 

I  still 

Stand  in  the  cloud,  and,  while  it  wraps 
My  face,  ought  not  to  speak  perhaps. 

For  these  the  physical  charm  of  the  India-paper  edition  will 
be  a  delight.  For  the  rest  who  can  (or  think  they  can)  pierce  the 
cloud  that  habitually  wraps  the  poet's  face,  the  work-a-day 
edition  will  serve. 

Some  readers  of  the  Life  and  Letters  of  Sir  Charles  Halle 
(SMITH,  ELDER)  will  agree  with  my  Baronite  in  the  opinion  that 
the  most  interesting  chapters  are  those  which  contain  HALLE'S 
early  letters  to  his  parents  dated  from  Darmstadt  and  Paris. 
He  was  just  launched  on  the  sea  of  life.  His  observation 
was  keen,  his  mind  impressionable,  out  of  a  full  heart  he 
communed  with  the  home  circle,  for  whose  companionship  he 
yearned.  Many  of  the  later  letters  might  have  been  omitted 
from  the  bulky  volume,  and  the  prosaic  accounts  of  the  visits  to 
Australia  and  the  Cape  were  better  retained  for  family  reading. 
The  judicious  reader  can  effect  compression  for  himself,  after 
which  process  he  will  find  much  of  interest  in  the  simnle  story 
of  a  strenuous  life.  THE  BARON. 

SOCIAL     SONNETS. 
I.  —  "EXTREMES  MEET." 

REGGIE  L'AMPOSTE  was  tall  and  slight, 

He  waxed  his  moustache  and  he  curled  his  hair  ; 
And  the  chum  who  was  with  him  from  morn  till  night 

Was  FREDDY  FITZFADDLE,  so  fat  and  fair. 
They  both  took  into  their  heads  to  propose, 

And  REGGIE'S  selection  was  stout  and  small, 
While  the  pink  of  perfection  that  FREDERICK  chose 

Was  as  thin  as  a  lath  and  was  dark  and  tall. 


How  the  Blow  fell  in  the  higher  Literary  Circles  of 
Islington. 

Mrs.  Ibsen-Gibsen  (to  theMacTavish,  introduced  specially  from 
the  North,  with  a  great  reputation).  And  pray,  Mr.  MACTAVISH, 
what  do  you  consider  the  finest  romance  of  the  century  ? 

[A  dead  silence,  while  the  yreat  man  reflects  on  Scottish  whiskey. 
The  MacTamsh  (after  a  pause).  I'm  thinking,  Madam,  that 
the  finest  prose  wark  I  ever  conseedered  was  the  True  History  of 
Jack  Larkaway,  which  was  issued  in  penny  numbers — the  same 
forbidden  when  I  was  leetle  better  than  a  wild  whaup  meeself . 
But,  craving  your  indulgence,  I  was  a  de'il  o'  a  lad  for  piratical 
escaupades,  and  hae  the  spell  on  me  noo,  occasionally ! 
[Oencral  flight  of  all  the  younger  ladies,  who  remember  that  the  mistletoe 
has  not  been  removed.  The  elders  of  the  sex  remain  stationary.  80 
does  the  MacTavish. 


JANUARY  16,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


29 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  South-ciAtntry  Foxhunter,  on  a  New  Forest  Pony,  celebrates  hit 
triumph  over  a,  Midland  ' '  bullfinther. " 

I  IK  has  come  in  his  pride,  just  to  show  us  the  way, 

From  the  country  of  grassland  and  spinnies, 
And  the  hunter  he  's  on,  so  I  heard  his  groom  say, 

Cost  at  Melton  a  "  half  thou.  of  guineas." 
His  seat  is  a  model,  his  boots  cling  like  wax, 

And  his  hat  has  a  workmanlike  air, 
And  his  well-fitting  coat  is  not  one  of  those  sacks 

That  we  poor  Southern  countrymen  wear. 

Note  the  hand  that  he  bears  on  his  high-mettled  mare, 

While  her  antics  he  readily  baffles, 
And  seems  ev'ry  movement  of  spirit  to  share 

As  he  curbs  it  with  lightest  or  snaffles. 
He  has  greeted  the  Master,  saluted  the  Field 

And,  I  notice,  is  friendly  with  you ; 
I've  no  doubt  that  he  thinks  that  all  present  must  yield 

To  the  charm  of  the  nouveau  venu- 

Here  are  you  on  the  castaway  peacocky  weed 

That  has  little  to  boast  of  but  rank, 
And  my  sorry  old  nag  is  of  true  Forest  breed, 

But  a  bad  'uii  to  beat  at  a  bank. 
You  may  laugh  at  the  Forester  coarseheaded  brute, 

But  I  swear  he  shall  show  you  to-day 
That  o'er  heather  and  bog,  and  mid  tangle  and  root, 

There  is  none  like  my  Ul-favoured  grey  1 

Just  another  low  laugh  and  another  soft  look — 

Then  the  melody-mongers  give  cry. 
We  are  off  I     He  is  leading  us  all  at  the  brook 

By  the  firs  where  the  soent  is  so  high, 
By  the  copse,  where  the  hazels  are  crackling  and  sear, 

You  endeavour  to  keep  with  his  pace ; 
Can't  you  see  that  he  's  out  trying  to  steer, 

And  that  you  are  not  making  him  race  f 

Good  fox !  he  has  turned  from  the  flint-powdered  ridge 

To  the  vale,  where  the  meadows  lie  dank, 
And  the  hounds  are  now  streaming  to  right  by  the  bridge, 

On  the  left  I  will  take  them  in  Hank. 
Go  on,  dear  old  Hengist,  I  give  you  your  head, 

"Tis  wiser  than  mine  is  to-day. 
Yes !  ford  it  quite  gently — the  water  runs  red 

With  the  blood  of  the  churn  in  the  clay  I 

Good  hounds  I  they  have  followed  the  quarry  right  well, 

But  the  pace  is  too  good  long  to  last. 
And  what  has  become  of  the  Leicestershire  Swell 

Who  started  the  running  so  fast? 
And  where,  and  oh!  where  is  that  Queen  of  the  Chase 

WTio  broke  with  that  terrible  rush  ? — 
Yet  your  trophies  another  fair  tribute  shall  grace, 

For  Hengist  and  I  take  the  brush  1 


AUQUSTE  EN  ANGLETERRE. 
NOTES  SUR  L'ALMANACH  (suite). 

OCTOBER. — The  chase  to  the  pheasants  commences  the  first,  and 
during  this  month  here  there  is  the  chase  to  the  "cubs."  For 
that  one  lifts  himself  of  very  good  morning,  in  effect,  during  the 
night.  The  English  love  much  the  cold  bath,  and  me  also,  be- 
cause I  find  that  he  is  very  fortifying,  though  it  is  not  the  habitude 
of  my  compatriots.  But  during  the  night  a  cold  bath  at  the 
candle,  or  at  the  electric  light— ah,  no!  At  the  fine  commences 
the  chase  to  the  fox,  and  also  the  sittings  of  the  courts  in  the 
Palace  of  Justice.  Maitre  lienard  and  the  advocates  in  same 
time — that  has  the  air  of  a  fable  of  LA  FONTAINE.  Only,  the  fox 
goes  quick  and  loses,  the  law  goes  slowly  and  wins.  The  twenty 
and  one  the  English  celebrate  the  battle  of  Trafalgar.  Me  I  see 
not  for  what  not,  although  some  French  find  there  some  injuries 
against  our  country.  Provided  that  one  is  not  chauvin,  in  eng- 
lish  "  jinggo,"  and  too  hostile  towards  the  other  nations,  the  love 
of  the  country  is  a  sentiment  which  is  no  part  more  admired  than 
in  France. 

NOVEMBER. — At  this  season,  or  more  soon,  the  great  fogs  of 
London  commence.  We  have  sometimes  at  Paris  some  fog,  but, 
my  faith,  that  it  is  nothing!  Ordinarily  the  fog  at  London  com- 
mences at  the  fine  of  October,  and,  augmenting  during  the  frost, 
continues  until  to  the  spring.  Some  days  he  is  less  thick,  and 
even  one  can  to  see  the  sun,  absolutely  as  one  sees  him  through 
some  smoked  glass,  without  rays  or  brilliance.  But  the  most  part 


EVERYTHING  CAN  BE  EXPLAINED. 

Cissie  (who  has  never  seen  an  Archdeacon  before).  "  DICK,  THAT  OLD 
CLERGYMAN  HAS  OOT  GAITERS  ox.  WHAT  DOES  IT  MEAN  WHEN  A 
CLERGYMAN  WEARS  GAITERS!" 

Dick  (who  knows  everything).  "  OH,  IT  MEANS  THAT  HB  BELONGS  TO 
THE  CYCLIST  CORPS  ! " 


of  the  days  one  sees  not  the  sun,  and  ordinarily  the  fog  is  suchly 
— tdlement — thick,  that  one  sees  neither  the  sky  nor  the  earth, 
only  the  air.  And  the  air  is  all  simply  the  smoke,  un  veritable 
climat  d'enfer,  nais  froid  I  The  nine  there  is  a  great  procession 
and  a  great  banquet  at  London  for  to  celebrate  the  day  of  birth 
of  the  Prince  of  WALES.  Speaking  of  the  City,  I  wish  to  make 
to  remark  my  compatriots  that  the  Lord  Moire  is  not  a  great 
personage  of  the  Government,  as  the  Moire  i/u  1'alait  of  the 
middle  age.  He  is  all  simply  the  Prefect  of  the  Thames — the 
Prefet  de  la  Seine  of  London. 

|)K(  KMIIKR. — The  fogs  continue  still  more  thick.  During  all 
this  month  here  the  English  make  some  vast  preparations  for  the 
most  great  feast  of  all  the  year,  when,  following  their  habitude, 
they  eat,  and  this  time  enormously.  Ordinarily  at  Christmas  he 
makes  a  time  unbelieveably  sad.  Sometimes  he  falls  some  rain, 
sometimes  he  makes  some  fog,  sometimes  there  is  all  the  two 
together,  invariably  there  is  much  of  mud  and  much  of  obscu- 
rity ;  never  the  sun;  never  the  fine  time,  excepted  this  year 
who  comes  of  to  finish,  when  the  sun  shone  during  two  days, 
that  which  is  all  to  fact  exceptional.  Thus,  for  to  amuse 
themselves,  the  unhappy  English  are  obliged  of  to  shut  themselves 
at  them — chez  eux — of  to  light  the  lamps  at  midday,  and  of  to  eat 
just  to  the  night.  At  Christmas  in  England,  and  above  all  at 
London,  the  night  and  the  day  it  is  the  same  thing.  Seen  these 
habitudes  so  melancholy,  it  astonishes  me  that  the  English  are 
not  much  more  sad.  In  effect  they  are  sometimes  narquois  and 
gay.  With  a  fine  irony  they  call  feast  there  "The  Merry 
Christmas."  VoilA,  Mister  Punch,  a  pleasantery  of  your  com- 
patriots, worthy  of  to  be  printed  in  your  journal  so  illustrious — 
a  pleasantery  with  which  I  terminate  these  notes,  in  saying  to 
you,  "To  the  to  see  again."  Agree,  Ac.,  AUOUSTE. 


THE  QUARTER    OF   LONDON   WHERE   A  FRENCHMAN   OUGHT   TO 
RESIDE. — The  E.G.  on  parle  Franfait  district. 


30 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  16,  1897. 


A    VICARIOUS    TRANSGRESSION. 

Pater.  "JOHNNY,  I  DON'T  WANT  TO  SEE  THIS  MAN.     RUN  DOWN  AND  TELL  HIM  I'M  NOT  AT  HOME.' 

Johnny.   "  HULI.O,  PATER, — I  THOUGHT  YOU  NEVER  TOLD  LIES." 

Pater  (solemnly).  "I  DON'T,  MY  BOY.     IT'S  YOU  THAT  's  GOING  TO  TELL  THE  LIE." 


MINDING  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  BUSINESS. 

THE  American  Senate,  having  postponed  a  resolution  asking 
the  English  Government  to  pardon  Mrs.  MAYBHICK,  will  probably 
proceed  to  discuss  the  following  questions  :  — 

Shall  Spain  continue  to  exist? 

Ought  the  West  Front  of  Peterborough  Cathedral  to  be  re- 
erected  in  steel  and  concrete? 

Is  duelling  to  be  allowed  in  the  German  Army  ? 

What  should  be  the  law  as  to  a  "  place  "  for  betting  in  Eng- 
land? 

Should  the  Anti-Semites  in  Vienna  be  muzzled  or  not  ? 

Shall  there  be  a  new  street  from  Holborn  to  the  Strand,  and 
shall  the  houses  on  this  street  be  twenty  stories  high,  and  de- 
signed as  in  Chicago  ? 

Ought  Gambling  at  Monte  Carlo  to  be  suppressed  ? 

Is  kleptomania  on  the  increase  in  England  ? 

Shall  Russia  be  allowed  to  send  convicts  to  Siberia  ? 

Can  Hyde  Park  be  improved  by  an  elevated  railroad  from 
Kensington  to  the  Marble  Arch  ? 

What  can  be  done  to  hurry  up  the  French  Academy,  which 
began  a  dictionary  one  hundred  and  forty  years  before  the 
Declaration  of  Independence,  and  has  not  finished  yet  ? 

Shall   our  spelling   of   "neighbor,"   "parlor,"   "center"  and 

theater     be  made  compulsory  in  England  ? 

How  doos  the  treaty  of  peace  between  Italy  and  Abyssinia 
conform  to  the  Monroe  Doctrine  ? 

Are  the  depots  and  cars  of  the  British  railroads  satisfactory  ? 

Should  the  Chinese  be  compelled  to  dress  in  black  coats  and 
tall  hats  like  respectable  American  Citizens? 

Shall  the  Behring  Sea  Fisheries  award  be  paid? 

It  is  expected  that  the  last  resolution  will  be  indefinitely  post- 
poned ;  it  is  even  thought  that  it  will  never  be  proposed. 


CAVIARE  TO  THE  GENERAL. 

SALVATIONIST  BOOTH,  Mr.  GLADSTONE  politely 

Addressed  you  as  "  General,"  possibly  rightly  ; 

Yet  he  all  his  life  has  continued  to  spurn  all 

Such  fanciful  fame,  he  is  not  even  Colonel ; 

This  Old  Parliamentary  Hand,  this  old  stager 

Has  failed  to  attain  the  position  of  Major  ; 

His  manifold  talents  have  never  been  wrapped  in 

The  quite  ineffectual  title  of  Captain  ; 

He  never  has  carried  a  banner  or  pennant, 

Or  beaten  a  drum — he  is  not  a  Lieutenant ; 

His  speech  is  so  silver,  in  heraldry  "  argent," 

Your  people  like  talking — he  is  not  a  Sergeant ; 

Untitled,  not  even  like  KELVIN  or  LISTEK, 

This  man,  so  much  greater  than  you,  is  plain  Mister. 


An  Architectural   Settlement. 

First  Man  (eminent  in  painting,  literature  or  science).  What  a 
controversy  about  Peterborough  Cathedral  1  Do  you  know  any- 
thing about  architecture  ?  I  don't. 

Second  Man  (ditto).  Nothing  whatever.  And  I've  never  been 
within  twenty  miles  of  Peterborough. 

First  Man.  Nor  have  I.  Then  let  us  go  at  once  and  sign  a 
memorial  to  the  Dean  and  Chapter,  asking  them  not  to  let 
anybody  do  anything.  [Exeunt,  excitedly. 

A  DIPLOMATIST  WHO  DOES  NOT  BELIE  HIS  SURNAME. — Mr.  NEL- 
THORPE  BEATJCLERK,  our  new  Consul-General  at  Buda-Pesth, 
speaks  Chinese,  Russian,  French,  German,  Italian,  Danish, 
Spanish,  with  other  languages.  A  beau  clerc,  indeed! 

THE  FAVOURITE  HERO  OP  THE  LOO-ROLLER. — "  General  BOTJM." 


PUNCH,    OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.- JANUARY  16,  1897. 


SECOND   THOUGHTS." 


SECRETARY  OF  STATB  FOR  INDIA  (blandly).  "  ALL  RIGHT,  MR.  BULL,  ON  RE-CONSIDERATION,  I  FIND 
WE  ARE  NOW  OFFICIALLY  PREPARED  TO  RECEIVE  YOUR  GENEROUS  CONTRIBUTIONS  TOWARDS 
THE  RELIEF  OF  THE  INDIAN  FAMINE." 

(Vide  letter  frrnn  Lord  G-RGE  H-M-LT-N,  "  Timet,"  January  4,  declining,  and,  in  "  Time*,"  January  9,  accepting 
the  LORD  MAYOR'S  Indian  Belief  Fund.) 


JANUAUY  16,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


33 


NEW  SPORTING  DICTIONARY  OF  FAMILIAR  LATIN  PHRASES. 
SISTE,  VIATOK  !    (STAY,  TRAVELLER  !) 


THE  IDEA ! 

["If  all  the  theatres  in  London,  the  'serious' 
houses  included,  were  shut  up  at  this  moment, 
what  should  we  lose  ?  A  good  many  sensations,  no 
doubt.  But  how  many  ideas? " — Daily  Chronicle.] 

A  LONELY  idea  went  limping  along, 

Dreary  and  desolate,  doubtful  and  dim  ; 
There  were  all  sorts  of  folk  in  the  hurrying 

throng, 
From  poets  to  patriots,  but  none  wanted 

him  I 
The  statesman  severely  hU  head  at  Lim 

shook ; 
To  be  seen  in  his  company  simply  meant 

smash. 

The  author,  to  whom  he  suggested  a  book, 
Turned  pale,  and  declined  to  do  any- 
thing rash. 
The  novelist  said,  "  Why,  good  gracious, 

you  're  New ! 

And  newness  in  novels  is  never  allowed !  " 
The  po«t,  who,  perched  on  Parnassus 

askew, 
At  the  sight  of  his  face  hid  his  head  in 

a  cloud. 

The  dramatist,  rousing  as  if  from  a  snooze, 
Muttered   "  SOPHOCLES  —  SHAKSPEARK  — 

PINERO — and  SIMS ! 
Of  my  good  golden  eggs  I  shall  murder  the 

goose, 
If  I  get  me  suspected  of  notions  and 

whims." 
Party  cries  and  sensations  were  much  in 

request, 

But  ideas  were  under  the  strictest  taboo. 
They  upset  the  world,  destroyed  comfort 

and  rest ; 
You   never   could   calculate  what    they 

might  do. 
A  Hebrew  trudged  by,  crying  feebly  "  Ole 

Clo ! " 
He  carried  a  big  old  black  bag  on  his 

back. 
The  idea  sighed,  "  Nobody  needs  me,  oh ! 

no! 

To  save  my  poor  life,  I  '11 — creep  into  his 
suck. 


They'll   never   suspect   me    of    hiding    in 

there!" 

'•Ole  do!"  cried  the  Jew.     "Any  lum- 
ber?   Ole  do!"— 
From  that  day  he  was  ruined,   for  even 

Rag-fair 

Cannot  stand  new  ideas  —  they  muddle 
things  sol 

DECEIVED  AND  DECEIVER. 

(A  Page  from  a  Diary  up-to-date.) 

["  The  royal  standard  must  not  be  used  save  by 
members  of  the  Koyal  Family." — Corrttpondtnce 
in  the  Uaily  Papers.} 

CAN'T  understand  why  I  should  receive 
so  much  attention.  Here  am  I  on  board  a 
small  sailing  vessel  that  I  have  hired  for 
the  day.  Nothing  particular  about  her.' 
Customary  sails,  and  flying  from  the  mast 
an  eighteen-penny  pockethandkerchief,  and 
yet  I  fancy  I  am  attracting  official  notice 
in  all  quarters.  Dear  me  I  What  are  they 
doing  over  there  ?  Seem  to  be  hoisting  a 
flag,  and  about  to  fire.  Bang  I  There  they 
gol  Twenty-one  of  them  I 

Better  be  off;  no  doubt  they  are  prac- 
tising. Target  practice  has  its  disadvan- 
tages when  you  are  in  the  line  of  sight 
with  the  object  selected  by  the  marksmen. 
Boat  sails  slowly.  Sure  to  be  hit  I  No 
harm  as  yet.  What  are  they  about? 
Seem  to  be  sending  a  boat  to  board  me. 

Now  that  the  boat  has  come  alongside 
find  that  it's  a  large  one.  Contains  a 
band  of  music  and  a  number  of  soldiers. 
What  are  they  doing?  Band  plays  a  fami 
liar  tune.  Redcoats  present  arms.  What 
on  earth  are  they  after? 

Officer  boards  us.  He  uncovers  respect- 
fully.  "Where  is  His  Royal  Highness?" 

Explain  that  I  haveu't  the  vaguest  idea 
what  he  means. 

"  But  you  must  have  Royalty  on  board," 
he  persists.  "  Look  at  your  flag." 

He  is  directing  my  attention  to  the 
pockethandkerchief  which  cost  me  eighteen 
pence. 


The  band  again  start*  the  National  An- 
them. This  in  too  much,  and  I  say  so. 

"  Not  at  all,"  is  the  polite  reply,  "  as  I 
feel  convinced  that  you  have  a  right  to  fly 
that  illustrious  emblem." 

It  now  occurs  to  me  that  the  eighteen- 
peuuy  handkerchief  shows  the  royal 
standard. 

"  You  are  a  member  of  the  royal 
family,"  suggests  the  naval  officer. 

"  No,  Sir/^  is  my  response ;  "  I  am  only 
Mr.  TOMPKINU." 

The  naval  officer  utters  a  mighty  nauti- 
cal imprecation.  Things  are  becoming 
serious.  Have  I  been  guilty  of  piracy,  or 
what? 

At  this  moment  the  boat  is  struck  by 
a  torpedo  sent  out  in  practice  and  col- 
lapses. Then  the  naval  ship  collides 
against  another  vessel,  and  both  disappear 
together.  In  a  second  my  vessel  (the 
Saucy  Sarah)  is  alone  on  the  ocean. 

"  Saved  I  "  I  murmur.     "  Saved  I " 

But,  to  prevent  further  mistakes,  I  re- 
move the  royal  standard  from  the  mast, 
and  once  more  all  is  peace  and  quietness. 


CRUSOE  8  ISLAND  MISSING  ! 

[It  is  reported  that  the  island  of  Juan  Fernandez, 
400  mile*  west  of  Valparaiso,  has  disappeared, 
probably  owing  to  a  submarine  earthquake.] 

FAREWKLL,  Juan  Fernandez. 

Most  famous  isle,  farewell  I 
Foundered  beyond  the  Andes, 

If  'tis  the  truth  they  tell. 

It  must  have  been  a  sea-quake 
Made  your  foundations  rock — 

And  us  the  other  week  wake 
With  the  same  seismic  shock. 

They  say,  in  tim«  primeval, 

You  bobbed  now  up,  now  down  ; 

A  million  years'  upheaval, 
Then  for  an  eeou,  drown. 

A  Spanish  captain 's  said  it — 

He  saw  you  disappear; 
('Tis  a  tall  tale  to  credit, 

Sea-serpent>like  and  queer!) 

A  short  and  sharp  commotion, 
And  then  the  trick  was  done — 

You  dived  into  the  ocean, 
Ere  men  said  "  Robinson  I " 

You  followed  your  creator, 
DEVOB.  and  sought  your  grave, 

Engulfea  in  some  deep  crater 
Beneath  the  greedy  wave. 

No  matter,  for  long  ages 
Your  mem'ry  will  be  green, 

And  live  in  graphic  pages 
With  glory  submarine. 

As  long  as  schoolboys  nourish 

A  taste  for  pantomime, 
Will  Crusoe's  Island  flourish, 

Defying  tide  and  time! 


RECONSIDERED.  —  At  the  enthronement 
of  Dr.  TEMPLE  as  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, the  organist  opened  the  proceed- 
ings by  playing  the  "  Wedding  March." 
Would  it  not  have  been  more  appropriate 
had  he  given  the  popular  old  air  of  "  The 
See!  The  See!"  And  if  to  those  con- 
versant with  the  words,  "  the  open  See !  " 
might  have  seemed  inapplicable,  surely 
a  leaflet  with  the  adaptation  thus,  "The 
See!  The  See!  The  well-filled  See!" 
wauld  have  sufficed  ?  But  they  don't  think 
of  these  things  in  time,  or  in  tune. 


34 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  16,  1897. 


READY-MADE    COATS-(OF-ARMS) ; 'OR,    GIVING    'EM    FITS! 


JOSEPH,  IST  EARL  OF 


Arm  :  Quarterly  ;  1st,  an  antique  boer  in  his  glory  regarding  a  lion  spotted  over  a  bordure  (chartered) 
comppnee,  partly  whitewashed  ;  2nd,  an  heraldic,  birtlet  cuffed  and  erased  under  a  chapeau  doubled  up 
carmine  ;  3rd,  an  Irish  shamrock,  barred  in  perpetuity  on  a  ground  orange  of  prejudice  ;  4th,  a 
mysterious  libel  voluntarily  erased  sable,  rendered  more  or  less  illegible  after  the  manner  of  the  new 
journalism  ;  over  all,  on  an  escutcheon  of  pretence,  several  ministerial  billets  of  the  best,  clawed  and 
collared  in  advance.  Crat  :  A  lion  of  debate  langued  mordant,  bearing  in  dexter  paw  the  union  nau 
flowing  to  the  sinister,  dropping  in  his  progress  a  phrygian  or  republican  cap  of  liberty  "  turned  up  " 
and  refa«ed  ermine.  Supporters  :  Two  highly  crusted  pillars  of  the  constitution  (sang-)azure  in  a 


demi-furious  state  of  suppression. 


ON  A  WET  DAY. 

(A  Fair'jdyclist  apostrophiseth  her  Machine.) 
MY  spirits,  like  the  glass,  are  falling  fast, 
I  'd  like  to  swear — -I  shouldn't  make  you 

blush  I— 
The  rain '«  been  coming  down  for  hours 

past. 

Adown  the  gutters  tiny  rivers  rush, 
Making  the  street  a  very  sea  of  slush — 
In  doors,  my  trusty  steed,  you  '11  have  to 

stay, 

"  The  idle  Singer  of  an  empty  day !  " 
Yet  in  this  evil  day  there  's  good  to  find— 
A   chance  to  groom  you — yes,    a    happy 

thought  1 

"Keep  in  adversity  an  equal  mind," 
As,  I  remember,  good  old  HORACE  taught — 
I  wasn't  up  at  Girton  all  for  nought — 
And  so  I  "11  overhaul  you,  while  Imay, 
The  idle  Singer  of  an  empty  day ! 

Forgive  me  if  I  stand  you  on  your  head, 
"Tis  handier  so—I  '11  use  the  greatest  care- 
How  many  a  mile  together  we  have  sped ! 
Your  tyres,  I  see,  are  showing  signs  of 

wear. 
Twelve  hundred  miles  since  May — that's 

pretty  fair — 

Perhaps  you  're  glad  to  be,  once  in  a  way, 
The  idle  Singer  of  an  empty  day  I 

Your    handles    shine    like   silver — just    a 

scratch 
Or  two  may  tell  of  early  struggles  still  1 


Your  virtues  I  defy  the  world  to  match, 
Peerless  in  any  country,  flat  or  hill, 
Silent,  untiring  servant  of  my  will, 
To-morrow  may  you  be  no  more,  I  pray, 
The  idle  Singer  of  an  empty  day  1 


FROM  THE  LOG  OF  A  LOG-ROLLER. 

January  1,  1890. — What  a  beginning  for 
the  New  Year  I  All  my  MSS.  back  again 
— every  one  of  them,  the  fifteen  articles, 
the  three  plays,  the  volume  of  verse,  and 
the  novel.  Happy  thought  I  I  "11  be  a 
Decadent  1  I  have  sought  the  Good,  the 
Beautiful,  the  True,  but  I  will  seek  them 
no  longer.  They  are  out  of  date  in  this 
fin  de  siiscle.  I  will  to  Vigo  Street  and 

learn  to  be  Decadent. 

*  *  *  * 

The  Man  of  Vigo  Street  welcomed  me 
heartily.  "What  would  you  of  us?"  he 
asked.  "I  have  sought  the  Good,  the 
Beuatiful,  the  True,"  I  replied;  "but  it 
does  not  pay.  I  would  be  Decadent." 
The  Man  of  Vigo  Street  smiled  compas- 
sionately. "  Poor  fool ! "  quoth  he.  "  You 
have  indeed  gone  far  astray.  Know  you 
not  that  nowadays  the  only  Good  thing  is 
tha  Bad,  the  only  Beautiful  the  Ugly,  and 
the  only  True  is  the  False  ?"  I  pondered 
a  moment.  "No."  I  replied.  "I  had 
not  realized  that."  He  laughed.  "Poor 
youth  1 "  quoth  he.  "  These  are  the  very 
rudiments  of  Decadence."  "But  why " 


I  began,  not  fully  understanding.  "  The 
reason  is  plain,"  said  he.  "  Folk  love 
to  sin.  They  have  hitherto  been 
taught  that  sin  is  unlovable.  Show  them 
that  it  is  beautiful,  holy,  the  object  of 
existence,  and  a  grateful  public  will  fill 
your  purse  with  gold."  "  I  see,"  said  I, 
beginning  to  comprehend.  "  Oh,  how  I 
have  been  mistaken  I  I  had  striven  to 
clothe  my  thoughts  in  Godliness — 
The  Man  of  Vigo  Street  interrupted  me 
with  a  laugh.  "  Godliness  1"  he  cried. 
"  That  is  a  threadbare  garment.  Nowa- 
days your  only  wear  is  Bodliness."  "Ah  !  " 
said  I,  catching  at  the  word,  "  that  is  the 
ware  that  I  would  deal  in.  But  how  may 
I  come  by  it  ?  "  "  Easily  enough,"  said  he. 
"  In  the  first  place,  you  must  blaspheme." 
"And  next?"  "Sing  the  virtue  of  vice." 
"  And  next  ?  "  "  Log-roll  your  Brother  De- 
cadents." "That  is  all?"  "That  is  all," 
he  said.  "Do  this,  and  I  promise  you 
fame  and  fortune." 

January  1,  1895. — Blessed  be  the  day 
that  took  me  to  Vigo  Street!  Five  years 
ago  I  was  starving  in  a  miserable  garret, 
my  MSS.  returning  to  me  by  every  post. 
Now  I  cannot  write  fast  enough  to  satisfy 
the  public.  My  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  was 
the  beginning  of  my  fortune.  I  sang  of 
those  cities,  of  their  exquisite  beastliness 
and  their  divine  debauchery.  The  Deca- 
dents hailed  me  as  a  Brother,  and  I  ex- 
changed my  garret  for  a  sumptuous  abode. 
Since  then  I  have  blasphemed,  and  sung 
the  virtues  of  vice,  and  log-rolled  my 
Brethren,  and  the  Man  of  Vigo  Street  has 
made  good  his  word — my  fame  and  fortune 
arc  secure. 

January  1,  1900. — Curst  be  the  day  that 
took  me  to  Vigo  Street !  So  long  as  my 
Brother  Decadents  were  alive  it  was  well. 
I  log-rolled  them ;  they  log-rolled  me ;  we 
log-rolled  one  another ;  and  the  gaping 
public  poured  their  gold  into  our  ready 
pockets.  But  one  by  one  they  drank 
themselves  to  death,  and  I  am  left  lament- 
ing. No  one  will  swear  any  longer  that 
I  am  great,  that  I  out-Shakspeare  SHAK- 
SPBARB  :  nay,  the  fickle  public  will  have  it 
that  I  am  mad,  and  they  have  taken  me 
from  my  sumptuous  abode  to  a  padded 
room  in  Hanwell.  They  say,  in  this  new 
century,  that  the  Bad  is  no  longer  good, 
the  Ugly  no  longer  beautiful,  the  False  no 
longer  true.  They  say  that  Decadence  is 
now  a  recognised  form  of  lunacy.  Are 
they  right?  I  wonder. 


NONE  BUT  THE  BRAVE  BEFRIEND 
THE  FAIR. 

["  Mr.  CURTIS  BENNETT  has  undertaken  a  cru- 
na<te    against   csibmen   who   use    bad   language   to 
ladies." — Daily  Telegraph.] 
OH!  magistrate  of  Marlborough  Street! 

Here  's  luck  unto  your  arm, 
Which  would  protect  the  sex  that's  sweet 

From  figurative  harm! 
The  "  Jarvey  "  who  can  rant  and  rail 

At  parsimonious  dames, 
His  fares  no  longer  will  assail 

With  Speaker-horrid  names  I 
For  him  there  looms  the  heavy  fine 

Empowered  by  the  Senate, 
Or  else  the  punishment  condign 

Decreed  by  CURTIS  BENNETT. 
'Ware    then    of    Marlborough    Street,    ye 
loons 

Who  cannot  speak  politely, 
And  link  your  words  to  softer  tunes 

That  run  in  rhythm  rightly  ! 
For  whether  you  drive  barb  or  cob, 

Or  spavined  steed  or  jennet, 
Remember  that  with  grace  you  rob, 

And  shun  a  courteous  BENNETT! 


JANUARY  16,  1897.1 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


35 


Old  Lady.  "  DEAR  ME,  WHAT  A  NICE  REFINED-LOOKING  LITTLE  BOY.    WHY,  JANE,  HE 

HAS   A   MOUTH    FIT  FOR  A  CHERUB  ;   I   REALLY   MUST  GIVE  HIM   SIXPENCE."  [Does  SO. 


The  Cherub  (Jive  seconds  later).    "  8-s-s-s  ! ! 

BlLLEE  !   THE  OLD  GAL  's  GIVE  ME  A  TANNER  !" 


CANINE  SAGACITY. 
A  DOG'S  SUICIDE  THROUGH  AFFECTION. 

DEAR  SIB, — Allow  me  to  add  to  the  present  interesting  corre- 
spondence a  really  touching  instance  of  canine  devotion.  To  my 
mind,  any  evidence  of  a  higher  nature  in  animals  is  of  infinitely 
greater  value  than,  mere  proofs  of  cleverness,  or  feats  of  vin- 
dictive memory.  From  this  point  of  view,  the  St.  Bernard 
puppy  of  your  first  correspondent  ranks  considerably  higher  in 
the  scale  of  interest  than  the  dog  described  in  a  later  issue. 
Now  for  my  own  contribution  to  this  fascinating  subject. 

An  aged  female  relative  of  mine  possessed  a  fancy  spaniel, 
named  Sniff,  which  displayed  a  wealth  of  affection  for  his  mis- 
tress, unadulterated  by  the  snappishness  towards  other  people 
which  so  often  renders  such  a  dog  objectionable.  He  had,  it  is 
true,  a  slight  tendency  to  gluttony ;  but  then,  none  of  us  are 
perfect !  Several  months  ago  the  old  lady  died,  and,  by  her  own 
wish,  the  dog  was  transferred  to  my  little  suburban  home,  in 
the  hope  that  he  might  forget  his  loss  amid  new  surroundings. 

Alas,  he  proved  inconsolable,  for,  within  twenty-four  hours, 
we  found  him  lying  stark  and  stiff  in  the  garden — poisoned  ! 

There  is  no  room  for  doubt  that  poor  little  Sniff,  crazed  by 
his  grief,  deliberately  ran  out  of  the  house  to  seek  the  means  of 
putting  an  end  to  his  existence,  and  found  what  he  sought  for  in 
some  pieces  of  poisoned  meat  left  near  the  greenhouse  by  my 
gardener.  I  may  say,  in  passing,  that  the  man  (whom  I  severely 
reprimanded)  had  left  the  poison  about  without  my  knowledge, 
with  the  object  of  exterminating  the  cats  which  ruined  his  bud- 
ding plants. 

Now,  what  can  be  more  admirable  than  Sniff's  refusal  to  sur- 
vive his  loved  mistress?  Surely  we  might  go  far  to  find  a 
parallel  among  ourselves.  I  am  quite  aware  that  many  people 
may  object  on  moral  grounds  to  this  admiration,  and  certainly  I 
do  not  wish  it  to  be  supposed  that  I  hold  a  brief  for  suicide — 
far  from  it.  But  I  think  we  should  be  very  careful  how  we  lay 
down  the  same  laws  for  animals  as  for  human  beings  in  a  matter 
of  this  kind,  and,  although  my  way  of  looking  at  things  is  often 
blamed,  I  am  not  ashamed  to  subscribe  as 

Yours  very  truly  A  HEAL  ENTHUSIAST. 

[Any  further  curious  cases  must  bo  sent  to  the  Spectator. — ED.] 


The  very  latest  Version  of  an  Old  Ditty. 

As    I    was    going    through    Sandgate,    through    Sandgate, 

through  Sandgate, 

As  I  was  going  through  Sandgate,  I  heard  a  lassie  sing, 
"  Weel  may  the  wheel  go  !  the  wheel  go  !  the  wheel  go ! 
Weel  may  the  wheel  go  I — the  bike  that  my  lad 's  on  !  " 


FBIENDLY  ADVICE. 

MR.  PUNCH  is  very  sorry  that  this  quarrel  in  a  quarry 

Should  show  so  much  of  prejudice  and  hate, 
I'KMtiiY.N-wiso  may  prove  pound-foolish.     Tot    the    score    with 

cautious  coo  list, 

Split  the  difference,  and — wipe  it  off  the  ilatel 
When  the  quarrel  is  protracted  long  with  out  and  thrust  and 

lunge, 

Neither  liken  to   "  throw  the  sponge  up,"  but  they  both  may 
"  use  the  sponge/] 

FOUND  KB  ON  FACT. 

DEAR  OLD  PUNCH, — As  the  holidays  are  nearly  over,  I  don't 
spend  much  time  in  reading  the  papers.  But  the  other  day  I 
came  across  some  elderly  fossil  complaining  that  the  public  did 
not  nearly  sufficiently  appreciate  our  national  collections.  This 
is  all  nonsense,  at  least  so  far  as  the  rising  generation  is  con- 
cerned. Take  myself,  for  instance.  I  have  three  brothers  and 
three  sisters,  and  we  all  have  friends  who  have  also  brothers  and 
sisters.  So  when  we  are  gathered  together,  we  are  a  tidy  lot — 
not  as  regards  apparel,  but  you  know  what  I  mean.  Well,  what 
do  we  do  with  ourselves P  Why,  we  go  to  the  British  Museum. 
"Very  good,"  say  you:  "nothing  like  improving  your  minds." 
Right  you  are  ;  it  is  nothing  like."  We  go  to  the  museum, 
not  to  look  up  mummies,  but  to  play  at  hide  and  seek.  First- 
rate  fun,  I  can  tell  you  1  No  chivying  one  another  in  a  rude, 
noisy  fashion,  but  politely  asking  the  way  of  a  policeman.  When 
we  catch  the  runner  we  shout  a  little,  but  not  louder  than  an 
antiquarian  making  a  discovery. 

And  now  that  the  movement  has  commenced,  why  should  it 
step  at  Bloomsbury  ?  Surely  the  School  of  Mines  might  be 
cleared  of  its  cases,  and  used  for  lawn  tennis,  and  no  one  would 
object  (at  least,  we  wouldn't)  to  the  large  hall  of  the  Natural 
History  Museum  being  set  apart  for  football  or  a  game  of 
cricket. 

Say  a  word  for  us,  dear  old  fellow,  and  merit  the  gratitude  of 
your  sincere  well-wisher, JONBS  MINOR. 

The  Duel   Control. 
THB  Teuton  Rhadamanthus  lays  the  law  down  fair  and  free 

Concerning  of  tho  Military  Duel : 

"  To  blow  a  German's  brains  out  makes  one  soldier  less,  you  see  I 
So  you  must  consult,  not  Heaven,  or  Humanity,  but  Me, 

Before  you  give  a  brother  man  his  gruel. 
But  if  a  Court  of  Honour  says  '  All  right,'  and  7  agree. 
Why,  pop  a  bullet  into  him  as  promptly  as  may  be! ' 


36 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  16,  1897. 


rTHE  STRIKE  OF  THE  PIPES. 

Mr.  Haleigh  Stubbs,  having  come  into  money, 
neglects  his  old  favourites. 

Miss  "Briar  Hoot.  It  'B  shameful  the  way 
we  're    neglected  I      I    declare    he    hasn't 
iressed  me  to  his  lips  for  at  least  a  fort- 
Mrs.  Meerschaum.  I'm  old-fashioned,  I 
mow,  but  I  do  feel  his  conduct  deeply, 
jook  how  my  colour  has  faded  1 

Miss  Cutty  Doodeen.  Bedad!  as  usual, 
^here's  plenty  of  injustice  for  ould  Oire- 
and.  Black  's  not  the  word  for  me  now  I 

Mile.  Merisier.  Ma  foil  What  for  did 
.  throw  my  parfum  about  his  nostrils  ? 
ttisericorde !  What  I  have  did  that  he 
should  flirt  with  those  impudent  Egyp- 
ians  ? 

Mis*  Briar  Boot.    The  way  in  which  he 
lings  to  those  Havana  beauties  is  simply 
disgraceful.     Havana,  indeed!     If  he  only 
mew  that  they  were  Belgian  atrocities. 
[Weeps  nicotine  tears. 

Mr*.  Meerschaum.  Years  ago  I  used  to 
mm  for  the  wretch.  Now  I  wish  I  could 
>ut  him  on  the  rack. 

Miss  Cutty  Doodeen.  Faix  I  that 's  where 
puts  us.  After  mounting  meself  in 
lall-marked  silver,  too  1  I  'd  break  meself 
with  rage. 

Mile.  Merisier.  Bah!  you  talk  like  a 
silly  bruk-gueuk.  My  friends,  we  are  be- 
:rayed.  It  must  be  the  revenge ! 

Miss  Briar  Root.  Revenge!  But  how? 
We  can't  strike.  That's  the  privilege  of 
the  matches. 

Mrs.  Meerschaum.  By  my  amber  mouth  I 
I  have  it.  We  can!  [Whispers. 

General  Chorus.   Splendid! 

Mrs.  Meerschaum.  Are  we  all  agreed? 
General  Chorus.   All  1 

Miss  Cutty  Doodeen.  Whist  1  here  he 
comes  I 

Enter  Owner  and  friends. 

Owner.  I  'm  sick  of  weeds,  and  shall  go 
back  to  the  dear  old  pipes  again.  (Tries 
pipe  after  pipe.)  By  Jove!  not  one  of 
them  will  drawl  (Silent  laughter  of  con- 
spirators as  owner  _  is  compelled  to  light 
an  Antwerp-Cuban  regalia.  After  a  few 
minutes  he  throws  it  away,  and  rings  the 
bell.  Servant  appears.)  JOHN,  chuck  all 
this  rubbish  into  the  fire.  [Indicates  pipes. 
John.  Yes,  Sir.  [Removes  pipes. 

Mile.  Mrrisier  (as  they  are  being  borne 
away).  Oh  !  that  we  could  make  him  under- 
stand. 

Miss  Briar  Root.  We  Ve  been  led  astray 
by  the  insidious  voice  of  a  demagogue ! 
Miss  Cutty  Doodeen.  The  dirty  German 
Mrs.      Meerschaum       (contemptuously). 
Pshaw  I       We   shall   only   make   ashes,   as 
usual.       To-morrow    he  '11    have    a    fresh 
harem  1  [ And  the  Owner  did 


ADELPHI    TERRISS    A  1    AND 
ADELPHI'D    SUSAN. 

SUCH  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  best 
specimen  extant  of  a  fine  old  British  nau- 
tical drama  should  not  be  missed  by  any 
playgoer.  The  Jack  Tar's  jacket  of  T.  P. 
COOK,  who  had  become  a  tradition  forty 
years  ago,  has  descended  on  the  "Wil- 
liam" par  excellence  of  the  present  day, 
i.e.,  WILLIAM  TERRISS.  He  is  the  Bill  of 
this  play,  and  though  Miss  MILLIARD  is 
not,  strictly  speaking,  black-eyed,  yet, 
lacking  the  "  two  lovely  black  eyes,"  she 
s  as  good  a  "  See-usan "  as  any  ship's 


A   Discussion   on  Diet. 

Little  Chris  (to  Little  Kate).  Does  your 
governess  get  ill  on  mince  pies  ? 
Little  Kate.  I  don't  know  I     Why  ? 
Little  Chris.  'Cause  mine  does.    At  din 
ner  to-day  she  said,  "If  you  eat  any  more 
of  that  pastry,  I  know  you  '11  be  ill."     So 
she  must  have  been  so  herself. 

[Conference  broken  up  by  arrival  of 
the  lady  in  question. 


The  Solution  of  a  Problem  at  Harwich 

Mariner    A .     What  "11     Newcastle     do 
when  they  make  coal  at  Dover  ? 

Mariner  B.  Why,  certainly  make  pas- 
sengers at  Newcastle! 


ADBLPHI  TERRISS  A  1. 
Hornpiping  Times  of  Nautical  Piece  at  Adelphi. 

company  (theatrical)  could  possibly  desire 
What  a  genuine  heroine  in  distress  is 
we.t^eyed  Susan!  almost  always  in  tears 
except  when  welcoming  William  after  his 
long  absence  from  "  the  boards,"  and  from 
his  native  Deal,  or  when  smiling  gently  a' 
the  facetiousness  of  Mr.  HARRY  NICHOLLS 
as  Gnatbrain,  who  in  the  first  piece  has 
already  "  given  "  the  audience  "  fits "  o 
laughter  as  Toby  Twinkle.  To  see  Mr 
WILLIAM  TERRISS  "  shivering  his  timbers ' 
in  the  hornpipe,  and  rewarded  for  his  ex 
ertions  by  a  genuinely  hearty  encore,  i 
enough  to  rejuvenate  the  oldest  salt,  anc 
to  set  a-capering  the  youngest  pickle. 

Captain  Crosstree,  the  darling  of  hi 
erew,  is  largely  played  by  Mr.  CHAKLB 
FULTON,  though  without  the  song  an<! 
dance  that  used  to  bring  down  the 


louse  in  the  old  Royalty  Burlesque  days, 
when  Mr.  FRED  DEWAR  received  double 
nd  treble  encores  nightly  for  asserting 
oundly  and  proudly  that  "  Captain  Cross- 
ree  was  his  name,"  and  no  mistake  about 

One  of  the  best "  and  most  artistic  per- 
ormancesin  the  piece  is  that  of  Mr.  J.  D. 
JKVERIDGE  as  Doggrass,  the  wicked  old 
•niserly  curmudgeon  (there  are  not  epi- 
hets  bad  enough  for  this  reprobate)  of  an 
mcle,  Susan's  uncle  be  it  understood, 
iut  to  fully  appreciate  this  actor's  art  you 
hould  previously  have  seen  him  as  Jasper 
™lum,  the  benevolent  father  in  the  first 
)iece,  All  that  Glitters  is  not  Gold,  when 
le  bears  a  strong  resemblance  to  Mr. 
SLADSTONE.  In  other  plays,  I  have  seen 
tfr.  BEVEHIDGE  as  a  villain  of  the  deepest 
dye,  and  as  a  comic  Irishman,  always  ex- 
cellent ;  but  this  transformation  from  the 
mpersonation  of  benevolence  to  that  of 
ordid  villainy,  all  in  one  night,  is  some- 
ihing  memorable.  Such  a  chance  does 
not  often  occur,  and  the  soul  thirsting  for 
something  satisfying  in  dramatic  art  will 
>e  quite  content  with  this  Beveridge. 

Miss  VANE  FEATHERSTON  is  a  delightful 
Vntty;  Mr.  CHARLES  FISHER  a  sturdy  Blue 
Peter;  Mr.  OSCAR  ADTE  as  great  in  the 
character  of  the  ranting  ruffian  Hatchftt, 
as  he  was  when  representing  a  mild  gpn- 
:lemanly  person,  in  the  preceding  comedy, 
called  Frederick  Plum.  Highest  praise,  too, 
must  be  bestowed  on  Mr.  LTTTOI  LABLACHE, 
The  Admiral  (who  shall  be  here,  as  he  is 
n  the  play,  nameless),  for  his  dignified 
demeanour,  clear  elocution,  and  most  im- 
pressive manner,  which  evidently  deeply 
iffected  his  fellow  admirals,  and  was  not 
ost  on  the  soft-hearted  and  ill-fated 
William . 

That  the  Admiral  should,  after  the  ver- 
dict of  "  guilty "  has  been  pronounced, 
convey  to  William  his  own  private  opi- 
nion of  his  own  public  and  official  conduct, 
by  allowing  the  prisoner  to  kiss  his  hand, 
is,  as  I  am  informed,  a  stage  tradition, 
which  would  be  more  honoured  in  the 
breach  than  in  the  observance.  Still,  it 
affects  the  audience  to  tears — it  is  so  kind 
of  the  Admirnl,  d'ye  see?  And  as  to  the 
scene  where  Black  flye'd  Site  takes  leiive 
of  her  lover,  just  before  he  is  going  to  be 
hanged  at  the  yard-arm,  well,  if  the  audi- 
ence had  been  nil  the  birds  assembled  for 
Cock  Robin's  funeral,  there  couldn't  have 
been  more  "  sighin'  and  Bobbin'."  It  was 
heartrending.  And  oh !  the  joy,  oh !  the 
applause,  when  Captain  Crnssiref  rushed 
on,  alive  and  well,  with  his  arm  in  a  sling, 
iust  in  time  to  save  William's  neck  from 
the  noose  !  Hooray  !  Rule  Britannia ! ! 
And  three  cheers  for  the  Messrs.  GATTT. 
the  gallant  First  Lieutenant,  FRET>.  G 
LATHAM,  who  stage-managed  both  pieces, 
and  the  jolly  clever  crew  that  acts  under 
his  orders! 


Older  than  the  Flood. 

Young  Archibald.  What 's  the  meaning 
of  the  proverb,  Auntie,  "What's  sauce  for 
the  goose  is  sauce  for  the  gander"? 

Auntie  (angrily).  Have  ye  quite  for- 
gotten the  story  of  Adam  and  Eve  in  the 
garden  of  Eden,  the  while  sae  greedy  o' 
apples  ? 

FROM    OUR    OWN    IRREPRESSIBLE    JOKER. 

(Still  dodging  justice.) 

Q.  What  mortar  do  swallows  use  to  builc 
their  nests  with  ? 

A.  Bird-lime,  of  course. 


JANUARY  23,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


37 


Mr.  Dibbles  (at  Balham).  "An, 
THK  OLD  CHANNEL  TUNNEL 
SCHEME  KNOCKED  ON  THE  HEAD 
AT  LAST  !  GOOD  JOB  TOO  !  MAD- 
HEADED  PROJECT — BEASTLY  UN- 
PATKIOTIC  TOO  I  " 


Mr.  Dibblei  (en  route  for  Paris. 
Sea  choppy).  "  CHANNEL  TTTNNEL 
NOT  A  BAD  IDEA.  ENTIRE  JOUR- 
NEY TO  PARIS  BY  TRAIN.  GRAND 
SCHEME  !  ENOLISR  PEOPLE  BACK- 
WARD IN  THESE  KIND  OF  THINGS. 

STEWARD  ! "  [Goes  below. 


MR.  TOM  COLLINS,  LATE  M.P.,  AND  EUGENE  ARAM,  DECEASED. 

EXTRACTS  FROM  THE  TRAVEL  DIARY  or  TOBY,  M.P. 

Knareiboroiigh,  Monday. — SARK  tells  me  that  from  earliest 
youth  Knaresborough  has  possessed  for  him  two  over- 
powering attractions.  One  lingers  round  EUGENE  ARAM,  with 
whom,  of  course,  he  had  no  personal  acquaintance.  The  other 
centres  upon  TOM  COLLINS,  first  returned  to  Parliament  for 
Knaresborough  in  the  Exhibition  year.  For  a  while,  in  the  stress 
of  political  weather,  TOM  migrated  to  Boston,  representing  that 
borough  from  1868  to  the  General  Election  in  1874,  when  he 
temporarily  disappeared  from  the  Parliamentary  scene.  He  came 
back  with  the  blossoms  of  May  in  1881,  Knaresborough  once 
more  having  elected  its  distinguished  townsman. 

SARK  well  remembers  TOM  COLLINB'S  reappearance.  It 
was  in  the  time  of  trouble  about  BRADLAUQH  ana  the  oath  he  at 
first  wouldn't  take  and  then  persistently  demanded.  WILFRID 
LAWSON  had  his  little  joke  at  the  expense  of  the  unsuspecting 
THOMAS.  When  the  new  Member  for  Knaresborough  presented 
himself  at  the  table,  and  claimed  to  take  the  oath,  Sir  WILFRID, 
textually  following  a  proposal  earlier  made  by  STAFFORD  NORTH- 
COTE  in  the  case  or  BRADLAUGH,  moved  for  "  a  Select  Committee 
to  ascertain  the  views  of  the  new  Member  on  the  question  of  the 
sanctity  of  an  oath." 

This  was  fun  to  the  House,  but  it  was  nearly  death  to  TOM 
COLLINS.  Brought  up  in  the  odour  of  sanctity — his  father  was 
either  rector  or  vicar  of  Knaresborough — T.  C.  found  himself 
under  the  awful  suspicion  of  being  even  as  BRADLAUGH.  He  was 
assailed  with  remonstrance  and  advice  from  well  -  meaning 
persons  in  all  parts  of  the  country.  Tracts  were  thrust  into  his 
hands  as  he  left  the  Commons.  Occasionally  he  found  two  or 
three  in  the  voluminous  recesses  of  his  umbrella.  The  climax  was 
reached  when  a  petition  was  forwarded  to  him  on  behalf  of  BRAD- 
LAUGH  asking  him  to  present  it.  After  suffering  in  silence  for 
a  space  of  nearly  two  months,  he  one  day  rose  and  claimed  the 
indulgence  of  the  House  whilst  he  made  a  personal  statement 
repudiating  the  insinuation  of  Sir  WILFRID. 

The  House  never  took  TOM  seriously,  and  roared  with  laughter 
throughout  his  lachrymose  lament. 


An  for  WILFRID  LAWSON,  he  was  incorrigible.  There  was  talk 
at  this  time  about  the  long  delay  following  upon  the  Knares- 
borotigh  Election  before  the  new  Member  came  to  take  his  seat. 

"Very  odd,"  said  Sir  JOHN  MOWBRAY,  "that  Ton  COLLINS 
doesn't  turn  up." 

"  Not  at  all,  said  Sir  WILFRID  ;  "  he  "s  waiting  for  an  excursion 
train." 

This  jibe  was  founded  upon  rumour,  probably  as  groundless 
as  that  about  his  views  on  the  sanctity  of  an  oath,  that  T.  C. 
waa,  not  to  put  it  too  strongly,  penurious  in  his  habits.  He 
certainly  did  not  waste  money  upon  his  tailor.  It  was  his 
boast  that  the  COLLINS  family  had  lived  in  Knaresborough  for 
two  hundred  years.  The  cut  and  the  decayed  colour  of  his  even- 
ing suit  suggested  that  it  had  been  a  heirloom  for  at  least  half 
that  period.  But  his  dress-coat  was  quite  a  gay  young  thing 
compared  with  his  umbrella.  It  was  credibly  asserted  that  this 
was  the  third  structure  of  the  kind  made  in  England.  Faded  to 
dust-colour,  it  was  tied  midway  with  a  piece  of  tape,  a  restriction 
it  resented  by  bulging  forth  in  a  series  of  gingham  carbuncles. 

TOM  and  his  umbrella  were  inseparable.  \\  et  or  fine  he  always 
carried  it  with  him,  nor  would  he  trust  the  precious  relic  to  the 
chances  and  changes  of  the  cloak-room.  He  brought  it  into  the 
lobby  and  carefully  deposited  it  behind  the  chair  of  the  principal 
doorkeeper,  holding  him  personally  responsible  for  its  safety.  It 
was  after  reposing  in  what  he  fondly  believed  was  a  place  of 
security  that  T.  C.  one  night  found  his  old  companion  stuffed 
with  a  bundle  of  tracts,  detailing  with  graphic  power  the  down- 
ward course  and  ultimate  end  of  an  atheist. 

SARK  was  recalling  these  things  as  we  stood  this  afternoon  on 
the  site  of  Knaresborough  Castle,  looking  on  the  beautiful  scene 
spread  around,  with  the  river  flashing  far  below  beneath  the 
bare  trees.  There  is  singularly  little  left  of  the  Castle ; 
a  cluster  of  roofless  rooms  over  a  ruined  gateway  ;  here  and 
there  a  bit  of  bowed  wall,  standing  up  like  the  fangs  of  a 
mammoth  jaw.  We  see  the  old  church,  the  peerless  bridge,  the 
houses  clambering  up  the  hill,  growing  quite  red  in  the  roof 
with  the  effort.  On  the  pleased  reflection  suddenly  breaks  a 
voice.  A  boy  had  followed  us  as  we  made  the  tour  of  the 
Castle.  Now  he  came  to  a  halt,  and,  with  faraway  look,  began 
to  reel  off  some  topographical  details  snipped,  as  he  subsequently 
confessed,  from  a  guide-book. 

He  was  the  oddest  automaton  I  ever  saw  in  biped  form.  His 
waistcoat,  unbuttoned,  disclosed  the  poverty  of  a  single  brace. 
One  hand  was  thrust  in  his  pocket,  the  other  hung  limp  at  his 
side.  With  eyes  fixed  on  the  horizon,  and  total  absence  of  ex- 
pression on  his  face,  he  began  to  tell  how  the  castle  was  built  in 
1017 ;  how  it  was  destroyed  by  Cnvttwell ;  how,  near  by,  was 
the  Dropping  Well ;  also  the  cave  of  Mother  SHIPTON,  who  bad 
prophesied,  amongst  other  things,  that  carriages  would  some  day 
cross  the  bridge  without  horses. 

"  She  meant  the  railways,"  said  the  Oracle,  parenthetically, 
without  variation  of  tone  or  withdrawal  of  his  gaze  from 
the  horizon.  Further  prophecy  portended  that  after  the  said 
bridze  had  fallen  three  times,  the  end  of  the  world  would  come. 

"It's  broke  down  twice,"  said  the  Oracle,  absolutely  un- 
moved at  the  imminence  of  catastrophe. 

"A  mije  distant  is  the  cave  where  EUOKNB  ARAM  murdered 
HOCSBMAN.  This  Castle  was  built  in  1017  and  was  destroyed 
by  CRUMIO«H."  The  wretched  boy  had  evidently  started  off 
again,  the  words  he  uttered  having  no  meaning  for  him.  The 
circle  completed,  he  went  on,  like  the  donkey  going  round  and 
round  in  the  track  drawing  water  from  a  well. 

"  Drop  a  penny  in  the  slot,"  said  SARK. 

So  the  boy's  mouth  being  at  the  moment  wide  open,  stuffed 
with  details  'about  Mother  SHIPTON,  I  inserted  twopence.  He 
snapped  his  chops  to  secure  it,  and,  en  route  to  \Vestminster, 
where  to-morrow  the  new  Session  opens,  we  went  on  to  see  the 
cave  where  EUOENE  ARAM  murdered  HOCSBMAN. 


HOW-DAH  THBY?— The  "Elephant  and  Castle"  is  threatened 
with  demolition.  And  yet  we  always  thought  that  the  Ele- 
phant's safest  home — like  that  of  the  Briton — was  his  castle  at 
Newington. 

SHAKSPBARE  adapted  to  the  recent  interruptions  at  the  con- 
firmations of  His  Grace  of  Canterbury  and  of  His  Lordship  of 
London,  "  Methinks,  my  lords,  they  do  protest  too  much." 

THE  "  KENTISH  FIRB  "  COAL-ITION. — For  convenient  quotation 
and  future  reference,  the  "  Kent  Coast  Coal  Co."  should  initial 
itself  thus,  "  The  K.K.  K.K." 

A  PLACB  WHBRB  THE  SWITCHBACK  AND  BLOCK  SYSTKMS  ARE 
ADMIRABLY  COMBINED. — Eton  College 


VOL.  <  xu. 


38 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  23,  1897. 


..JANUARY  23,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


39 


*~~^/J'  >£5=-'    —  • 


«*p 

*W&*fc         4  i/ 

S,,l^''^'       C^ 


'WARE    HOUNDS! 

m  (exasperated  by  field  of  thrusters  out  for  a  gallop).  "  THAT  '&  SIGHT,  GENTLEMEN—  JUMP  ON  'KM  I— JUMP  ON  'EM  !    THEY  'me 

A  OOATOUNDED   NUISANCE,    AIN'T  THEY  ?  " 


THE  ANGLO-AMERICAN  FAMILY  TREE. 

JUST  a  year  has  gone  by  since  Punch  celebrated 

The  Anglo-American  Family  Tree  ; 
Not  long  for  first-fruit  of  his  hope  has  he  waited, 

The  end  that  last  year  appeared  vain  to  foresee. 
Storm-clouds  were  then  looming,  and  threatened  to  shatter 

The  Tree  that  had  stood  for  a  thousand  long  years  ; 
MONBOE  and  his  doctrine  seemed  destined  to  scatter, 

Not  bind  its  twin  branches  in  two  hemispheres. 

'Twere  "  previous,"  may  be,  to  rejoice  while  the  Senate 
Hangs  back  and  still  holds  the  Great  Treaty  unsigned ; 

Yet  the  best  of  two  nations  have  settled  to  pen  it, 
Though  "  Silver  "  and  Populist  tongues  be  unkind. 

The  good  old  "  B.  A."  has  begun  by  electing 

Two  Yankees  to  honours  that  Art  has  in  store  ; 
Let  us  hope  the  example  will  soon  be  infecting 

Our  once-removed  cousins  on  New  England  s  shore ! 
What  achievement  than  this  more  resplendent,  more  glorious, 

Were  wrought  for  the  Diamond  Year  of  our  Queen? 
To  make  Peace  in  Victoria's  era  victorious, 

World-wide,  like  our  Family  Tree,  evergreen! 

Q.E.F.  save  for  an  occasional  "  Punitive  Expedition,"  just  to  keep  one's 
hand  in. 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

SINCE  Jos  Sedley  ceased  to  be  Collector  of  Boggley  Wollah, 
came  home  to  England,  and  didn't  marry  Becky  Sharp,  we  hear 
little  of  Collectors,  or  District  Officers,  as  they  are  called  in 
parts  of  India  not  adjacent  to  Boggley  Wollah.  One,  Colonel 
BARROW,  having  accomplished  his  modestly  veiled,  but  really  im- 
portant share  of  governing  India,  has  compiled  a  little  volume 
showing  exactlv  what  is  an  Indian  District,  and  how  it  is  go- 
verned. Lord  DUFFERIN,  who  has  been  reading  the  work,  testi- 
fies that  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  machinery  of  the 
administration  of  a  District,  made  possible  by  Colonel  BARROW, 
"helps  one  very  far  towards  understanding  one  of  the  great 
mysteries  of  the  age,  the  government  of  India."  THE  BAKON. 


THE  EFFECT  OF  THE  MOTOR-CAB. 

WE  cull  (and  use  the  term  in  strictly  orthodox  fashion)  the 
following  advertisement  from  a  contemporary  :  — 
/COACHMAN-GARDENER.— Wanted  Country  Situation.  Ride  and  drive 
\J  vines,  rose*,  chrysanthemums,  carnations,  4c.  Best  testimonials,  boot*. 

Here  is  an  unfortunate  Jehu,  one  of  the  race  of  None-shy, 
compelled  to  solicit  employment,  indubitably  by  reason  of  the 
introduction  of  the  motor-car,  "  to  ride  and  drive  "  the  choicest 
specimens  of  horticulture.  We  have  heard  of  Puck  on  Pegasus, 
but  never  before  of  even  a  fairy  gardener  who  could  urge  his 
career  on  anything  vegetable  except  thistle-down.  ProbablV  the 
best  subject  for  the  "  coachman-gardener "  to  tackle  would  be 
none  of  wie  blooms  which  he  mentions,  but  that  glory  of  Bushey 
Park,  the  horse-chestnut. 

EGOIST   ECHOES. 

ON  what  subject  must  a  man  be  tart P 

Aril 
Who  on  other's  Art-work  is  the  turtist  P 

Artist! 
What  writes  he  without  of  taste  one  particle  ? 

Artide! 
What  of  RHADAMANTHUB  he — on  paper  P 

Aper! 
What  pens  he,  this  ZOILUS  sour  and  scrubbish  P 

Rubbish  ! 
At  what  is  he  good,  besides  smart  slating  P 

Hating! 
What  to  true  High  Art  deems  he  High  Treason  ? 

Reason! 
What  style  supersedes  the  fair  and  placid  P 

Acid! 
What  shows  courtesy  a  dolt's  distemper? 

Temper ! 
What  will  prove  you  free  from  critic  crudeness  ? 

Rudeness! 


ONLY  TO  BE  MADE  IN  ENGLAND. — The  Indian  Famine  Fund. 


40 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  23,  1897. 


LUtle  Bore/Mm  (relating  his  Aljiinn  udoeiUmes).   " THERE  I   STOOD.  THE  TEKKIKIE  Aiivss 

YAWNING   AT  MY   FEET " 

That  £rute  Brown.  "  WAS  IT  YAWNING  WHEN   YOU  GOT  THERE.  OR  DID  IT  STAKT  AFTEK 

YOU   ARRIVED  ?  " 


LOS  JINGOS  AMKR1CANOS. 

MUY  SBNOR  Mio,  —  Unto  the  Campos 
Eliseos,  where  I  am  now  sojourning,  the 
news  from  my  country  come  more  quickly 
than  in  past  days  they  travelled  from  Vil- 
larta  to  Argamasilla  de  Alba.  Therefore, 
I  receive  intelligence  of  the  war  in  the 
island  of  Cuba.  Dios  de  bondad,  que 
guerra  !  What  a  war,  what  a  general  I  If 
only  I  could  go  there  with  my  faithful 
squire  and  my  good  Itocinante,  I  would 
fight  the  canalla  infame  as  I  fought  the 
monstrous  giants,  whom  poor,  ignorant 
SANCHO  PANZA  called  windmills!  Even 
SANCHO  would  not  wish  to  be  governor  of 
the  island  of  Cuba. 

But  it  is  not  of  this  that  I  write  to 
your  honour,  a  yuestra  merced,  Senor  Don 
Punch.  There  is  across  the  ocean,  beyond 
the  Azores  islands,  even  as  far  as  Cuba,  a 
certain  country  discovered  by  one  CRISTO- 
BAL COLON,  a  worthy  navigator.  This 
country  is  inhabited  by  a  wild  and  savage 
people,  the  Americanos,  ruled  by  certain 


chief  men,  or  senadores,  who  are  called 
"  jingos  "  in  their  barbarous  language.  The 
"  jingo  "  is  usually  a  madman.  Vdlame 
Dios!  Such  is  the  custom  of  the  country. 
And  of  these  wild  senadores  the  greatest  is 
one  Jingo  CHANDLER.  There  is  also  Jingo 
MILLS  and  Jingo  CALL.  They  are  not 
caballeros,  and  therefore  I,  Don  QUIJOTE  DE 
LA  MANCHA,  of  the  order  of  the  knights- 
errant,  despise  them.  If  it  could  be,  I 
would  send  my  faithful  squire  with  a  stout 
cudgel  to  cure  their  madness.  But  he 
cannot  depart  from  the  Campos  Eliseos. 

Therefore,  Senor  Don  Punch,  I  write 
now  to  your  honour  these  few  words  of 
warning  to  your  country.  I  hear  that 
your  people  love  the  Americanos,  so  much 
even  that  they  always  yield  to  them,  and 
would  almost  kiss  their  boots,  which  is  not 
dignified  for  a  great  nation.  Do  the  Ame- 
ricanos love  your  people  P  Have  they  not 
still  in  their  pockets  the  surplus  of  the 
millions  of  pesetas  given  to  them  when 
they  complained  of  the  ship  Alabama? 
Have  they  not  still  in  their  pockets  the 


thousands  of  pesetas  which  they  ought  to 
have  paid  to  the  English  for  some  dispute 
in  the  distant  sea  of  Behring?  After  an 
arbitration,  to  whichever  side  the  judges 
may  award  them,  are  not  the  pesetas 
always  in  the  pockets  of  the  Americanos? 
One  of  the  knights-errrant  of  ancient  days 
said,  in  the  Latin  tongue,  "  Timeo  Danaos 
et  dona  ferentes."  1  would  speak  likewise, 
but  the  Americanos  never  bring  gifts. 
Nevertheless,  your  nation,  still  yielding  to 
the  Americanos,  wishes  now  always  to  de- 
cide their  disputes  in  this  manner.  C'o- 
ramba!  Will  the  English  submit  every- 
thing to  the  Jingos  CHANDLER,  MILLS,  and 
CALL? 

Some,  even  of  my  friends,  have  said  that 
I  was  mad.  But  I  was  not  so  mad  as  these 
violent  leaders  of  the  Americanos.  And 
neither  these  jingos  nor  I  could  be  half 
so  mad  as  the  English  must  be  if  they 
believe  that  the  Americanos  love  them  as 
brothers. 

Of  your  honour  the  most  affectionate 
servant,  QUIJOTE  DE  LA  MANCHA. 


POOR  OLD  DLBD1N ! 

THE  SONG  OP  THE  DOUBTING  SAILOR-MAN. 

[*'  His  Terse  is  rough,  his  sentiment  affected,  his 
nautical  knowledge  extremely  slender."  "  Such 
tacts  as  we  know  about  him  tell  us  that  he  was 
never  at  sea  in  all  his  life,  and  we  are  asked  if  the 
set  of  stupid  and  drunken  mountebanks  of  whom 
he  trills  were  the  men  who  won  our  empire." — 
Mr.  Quitter  Couch  and  the  "  Daily  Chronicle  "  on 
Dibdin,  "  the  sailor-tnan's  poet."] 

AIR — "  Tom  Bowling." 

HERE  a  sheer  fraud  lies  poor  old  DIBDIN, 

Late  darling  of  each  crew  I 
No  more  we  '11  sing  the  songs  he  fibbed  in. 

He  's  been  shown  up  by  Q. ! 
His    "form"     was    fudge;     he     was    "a 
beauty  " ! 

Sea-lawyer,  sham,  and  "  soft." 
He  never  went  on  main-deck  duty  I 

He  never  climbed  aloft ! 

Old  DIBDIN  ne'er  from  shore  departed, 

His  humbug  was  so  rare  I 
His  "  Jack  "  we  held  so  gallant-hearted, 

Was  just  a  drunken  bear. 
We  've  called  him  plucky,  generous,  jolly, 

Ah !  many 's  the  time  and  oft ! 
But  Q.  informs  us  'twas  sheer  folly. 

Jack  was  a  swab,  a  soft !  I ! 

Yet  DIBDIN  has  made  pleasant  weather 

For  sailors  in  all  lands. 
We  cannot  "  chuck  "  him  altogether 

At  Mister  Q.'s  commands. 
KIPLING,  maybe,  the  tar's  ear  catches, 

At  DIBDIN  Q.  hath  scoffed. 
But  though  Q.  shoves  him  under  hatches, 

His  fame  still  sounds  aloft. 


At  the  Play. 

Araminta.  Why,  dearest,  do  you  call 
Jiose  witticisms,  which  the  comedians  de- 
iver  with  such  ready  humour,  "  gags"? 

Corydon  (the  playwright).  Because  they 
always  stifle  the  author. 

[Smites  no  more  during  the  evening. 

Honours  Uneasy. 
'  THE  pen   is  mightier   than   the   sword, 

men  say. 

<Jot  to  get  New  Year  Honours  or  high  pay  ! 
The  omy  "  Pen "  whose  claims  our  rulers 

reck 
Is  not  the  one  which  writes,  but  draws — a 

cheque. 


No  RISK  WHATEVER. — "  A  safe  robbery. 


JANUARY  23,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


41 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Poetic  Philosopher,  "  ilumming  '\  in  the  Ecat 
Jlhid,  cornea  upon  a.  reminiscence  of  a  day 
thiUjiaa  yoiie  for  ever.  . 
WHEN  all  the  sky  is  thick  and  foul, 

And  hidden  is  the  light  of  day, 
When  whistles  yell  anoT  drivers  howl, 

I  love  to  wend  my  silent  way 
'Mid  murky  crowds  down  dirty  streets. 

Where  costers  ply  their  roaring  trade, 
Where  cast-off  garments  jostle  sweets, 

And  gin  hobnobs  with  gingerade. 

Great  flashes,  orange,  tawny,  red, 

Break  through  the  gloom  with  fitful  flare, 
And  swell  the  curtain  overhead, 

Eager  ite  murky  folds  to  share—- 
In raucous  tones  the  butcher  bawls 

Of  wondrous  "  bits  "  of  flesh  and  bone, 
Where,  heaped  upon  the  reeking  stalls, 

Is  meat  most  oxen  would  disown  1 

The  pungent  perfume  of  the  fish, 

Anointed  with  some  midnight  oil. 
Blends  bravely  with  the  steaming  dish 

Of  whelks  or  winkles  on  the  boil. 
The  scent  of  fruit  regales  the  nose, 

The  crack  of  nuts  salutes  the  ear, 
And  fizzling  sausages  suppose 

Cheap  banquets  that  the  poor  hold  dear. 

YDS  ;  all  are  poor,  the  poor  who  live 

Only  to  strive  to  keep  their  breath, 
And  check  the  water  through  the  sieve 

That  daily  holds  the  hand  of  Death. 
Mark  how  their  eager  gaze  will  note 

This  wealth  of  garbage  spread  around, 
How  some  lean  loon  without  a  coat 

Will  spend  a  farthing  like  a  pound  I 

Food  for  the  mind  I  also  view. 

A  barrow  full  of  prose  and  rhyme, 
A  holocaust  of  thought  once  new, 

Made  aged  by  the  lapse  of  Time. 
Names  famous  joined  with  those  that  died 

Without  a  gleam  of  Fortune's  sun  — 
Yet  all  successful  :  side  by  side 

Are  SHAKBPEABE  and  the  poet  BUNN  I 

A  stout  Apostle  of  the  Few, 

A  votary  of  pen  and  ink, 
Must  to  his  creed  and  cult  be  true, 

Though     other    authors    "  wheel  "    and 


I  may  not  buy  the  meat  that  '%  red, 
The  winding  winkle  must  refuse, 

But  some  fair  book  I  '11  take  instead, 
And  pay  a  tribute  to  the  Muse  1 

This  shall  be  mine  —  a  quarto  tome. 

That  once  was  gay  with  gold  and  green, 
An  K!  in  iacl  that  's  strayed  from  home, 

At  two-pence  it  is  cheap.  I  ween. 
I  open  it  —  my  eyes  grow  dim— 

if  y  famous  drama.  Golden  Crest  !  — 
Unacted,  yet  inscribed,  "  From  him 

to  Her  he  always  will  love  best." 


On  the  District  Railway. 

THE  MACTAVISH  enters  a  compartment 
at  the  unholy  hour  of  9  A.M.,  and  is 

Greeted  with  a  chorus  of,  "  Hallo !  what 
rings  you  out  so  early  P "  Replies  the 
exiled  chieftain.  "  I  'm  bound  to  put  in  an 
appearance  at  the  Auld  Baillie."  General 
silence,  and  search  of  newspaper  informa- 
tion. "The  while,"  continues  the  Laird. 
"  I  'm  summoned  on  the  Grand  Jury,  and 
by  St.  Andrew !  wud  I  "d  to  find  true  bills 
against  every  fause  chiel  in  this  same  rail- 
wav  machine ! " 

The  MACTAVISH'S  wrath  is  only  appeased 
by  the  provident  discovery  on  the  part  of 
one  of  the  doomed  passengers  of  a  flask  of 
the  dew,  which  never  failed  to  restore  a 
Hielander's  spirits. 


SWEET    LAVENDER!" 


A  BIRD  STORY. 

DEAR  SIB, — Wo  possess  a  jackdaw 
named  Jock,  who  is  accomplished  in  all 
the  tricks  or  his  tribe.  This  amusing  old 
fellow  has  recently  shown  a  startling  proof 
of  intelligence.  He  had  been  distinctly 
seedy  for  some  time,  and  we  hardly  knew 
what  to  do  for  him.  Little  did  we  guess 
his  own  resourcefulness!  My  wife  takes 
"Carper's  Little  Liver  Pills,"  and  missed 
a  box  from  the  shelf  where  she  is  accus- 
tomed to  place  them.  As  Jock  is  a  star  of 
the  first  magnitude  in  purloining  trifles,  we 
suspected  him,  and,  sure  enough,  caught 
him  in  the  very  act  of  taking  two  of  the 
pills.  Feeling  that  the  creature's  reason- 
ing faculty  (I  dislike  the  word  instinct!) 
was  a  sure  guide  in  the  matter,  we  fur- 
nished him  with  three  more  boxes  of  pills. 
I  feel  quite  satisfied  myself  that  he  took 
them  regularly  according  to  the  directions, 
as  he  is  now  in  perfect  health. 

\ours  always,          A.  JAY. 


QUERY  BY  AN  OLD  TOPER. — Why  should 
not  the  axiom  "  No  heel-taps  "  be  applied 
to  Rugby  football  ? 


Riverain  Music  and  Law. 

[The  Daily  Telegraph  says  that  the  noise*  on 
the  Thames  disturb  the  lawyers  of  the  Temple,  and 
that  process  will  ensue.] 

THIY  say  some  preparation 
Will  be  made  for  orchestration 
Of  the  melodies  that  nobody  begrudges. 
But  we  only  hope  that  those 
Who  this  concert  diagnose 
Will  curtail  the  many  solos  of  the  judges. 

NOT    TO    UK    BEATEN    BY   THB    GAUL. — Our 

irrepressible  joker  (not  yet  captured) 
writes,  "The  French  may  talk  of  their 
Mussulman  Deputy,  Dr.  PHIUPPB  GRE- 
NIER,  but  I  beg  to  point  out  that  years 
ago  we  had  our  muscle-man  M.P.  in  the 
person  of  ex-prizefighting  GOT.LT,  repre- 
sentative of  Pontefact  at  St.  Stephen's." 

NOTE  BY  OUR  THOUGHTFUL  THEATRICAL 
CKXSCIR. — Mr.  OSCAR  BARRETT  is  a  lad  in 
who  has  been  too  long  a  lad  out  at  Drury 
Lane.  

PETTY  LAW-TEN  Y. — Solicitors'  fees. 


42 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  23,  1897. 


AN    AMENDMENT. 

Vera.  "WHAT  MUST  I  DO  ABOUT  THE  BILLSOMES'  DANCE?    I  DISLIKE  THE  BILLBOMES,  AND  I  DON'T  WANT  TO  GO. 
Phillis.  "WELL,  SAT  YOU  REGRET  YOU  ARE  UNABLE." 
Vera.  "WOULDN'T  IT  BE  MORE  TRUTHFUL  TO  SAY  I  AM  UNABLE  TO  REGRET?" 


SOME  INTERESTING  DRAMATIC  SOUVENIRS. 

MK.  PUNCH  understands  that  the  following  mementoes,  docu- 
ments, &c.,  illustrating  the  history  of  the  English  Stage  during 
the  past  sixty  years,  have  already  been  offered  to  the  Com- 
mittee of  the  Drama  Section  of  the  Forthcoming  Victorian  Era 
Exhibition  at  Earl's  Court. 

Autograph  Letter,  dated  1837,  from  A.  SUPER  (then  perform- 
ing at  the  Adelphi  Theatre),  accepting  invitation  to  a  tripe  and 
onion  supper  at  the  "  Grimaldi's  Head." 

Note,  dated  1897,  in  the  handwriting  of  Mr.  Frrz- 
HOWABD  WALKERON'S  private  secretary,  signed  by  Mr.  F.  W. 
himself,  regretting  that  his  onerous  duties  at  the  Picca- 
dilly Theatre  (where  he  is  playing  Second  Footman  in  the  First 
Act)  will  prevent  him  from  dining  with  the  Duchess  of  DUL- 
BOBOUOH,  but  promising  to  turn  up  later  in  the  evening. 

Set  of  Barcelona  Nutshells  (Early  Victorian),  presented  by 
the  ^Gallery  of  Queen  Victoria's  Own  Theayter  to  Mr.  GASPAR 
McGuBGLEs,  on  the  occasion  of  his  first  appearance  as  ZVie 
Demon  of  the  Sulphur  Swamp,  (Lent  by  his  daughter,  Miss 
CORDELIA  MoGuBOLEs.) 

A  Bottle  of  Stage  Champagne  (vintage  1837,  ires  sec),  as  pro- 
vided from  the  Property  Room  of  the  Period. 

Do.  do.  (Fizzler  and  Cremo,  '84,  at  75s.  per  doz.),  as  supplied 
for  use  of  choristers  in  Bail-Room  scene  at  the  Limelight 
Theatre,  1897. 

A  Complete  Series  of  Curious  Costumes,  Headgear,  &c.,  worn 
by  representative  Sandwichmen  from  1870-90.  (Lent  by  the 
leading  Advertisement  Contractors.) 

Models  of  Light  Refreshments  (sandwiches,  oranges,  buns, 
porter,  gingerbeer,  &c.),  provided  for  the  consumption  of  Pit- 
tites at  Leading  Theatres.  (1840-70.) 

Do.  do.  (Neapolitan  ices,  chocolate  creams,  and  coffee),  sup- 
plied to  same.  (1870-97.) 

Basket  of  Flowers,  presented  to  Miss  FIASCA  FLUFFINGHAM  at 
conclusion  of  Second  Act  of  Vamp  Squibs  at  a  matinee  at  the 
Nullity  Theatre.  (Lent  by  Miss  F.  F.) 


Little  Account  for  same  (unreceipted),  presented  to .  Miss 
FLUFFINGHAM  on  a  subsequent  occasion  (by  the  Florist). 

Pair  of  White  Berlin  Gloves,  worn  by  A.  SUPER,  in  his  cele- 
brated character  of  an  Adelphi  Guest  during  the  Early  Sixties. 

Pair  of  Bright  Green  Leather  Shoes,  first  introduced  by  Mr. 
FITZSUPBB  in  the  First  Act  of  Smarties  at  the  Decadence  Theatre 
(April  1,  1896),  and  subsequently  copied  by  his  youthful  ad- 
mirers about  town. 

Managerial  Manifesto  announcing  that  "  in  spite  of  the  phe- 
nomenal and  stupendous  success  of  the  New  Drama,  Balderdash, 
the  management  are  compelled,  in  consequence  of  arrangements 
previously  entered  into,  to  withdraw  it  at  the  summit  of  its 
popularity." 

Do.  do.,  stating  "that  the  new  Comedy,  The  Dead  Horse, 
having  failed  to  attract,  the  theatre  will  be  closed  until  further 
notice."  (Bare.) 

Curious  specimen  of  Ancient  Theatrical  Gag.  (From  the 
torture  collection  of  CHESNUTT  WEEZE,  Esq.) 

Catch-phrase,  with  mechanical  application,  constructed  to  pro- 
duce one  hundred  laughs  of  increasing  intensity  at  every  per- 
formance. (Still  in  use.) 

Presentation  Programme,  commemorating  the  14th  Consecutive 
Evening  Performance  of  an  Ibsen  Drama.  (Very  rare.) 

Folding  Campatool  (the  identical  one  occupied  by  Miss 
PATIENCE  LIMPETT  outside  the  Pit  Door  of  the  Lyceum  Theatre 
for  ten  hours  previous  to  every  first  Production  under  the  Pre- 
sent Management). 

Handsome  Suite  of  Stage  Furniture  (occasional  table  in  deal, 
richly  gilt ;  two  chairs,  do.  do ;  one  ottoman  in  striped  scarlet 
and  white  satin,  secondhand ;  cabinet  in  canvas  and  plaster, 
painted)  used  for  mounting  Interior  in  a  Comedy  of  High  Life, 
circ.  1837-1867. 

Several  Illustrated  Catalogues,  containing  specimens  of  real 
modern  and  antique  furniture  in  all  styles,  as  supplied  for  exhibi- 
tion upon  the  Modern  Stage,  and  tending  to  show  the  immense 
progress  made  in  Dramatic  Art  within  a  comparatively  recent 
period.  (Lent  by  the  Manufacturers.) 


s  * 

GO  cd 

OD       73 


to 
-i 


CO 

w 


II 

oS 


QD 


O 

o 


CQ 


JANUARY  23,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


45 


WHOSE    FAULT? 

"Kg  c^.v  JUMP   BUT  HE  WON'T!' 


FROM  A  CLERICAL  DIARY. 

December  26,  10  A.M. — Must  work  hard  at  the  January  number 
of  our  Puddleton  Parish  Magazine  this  morning.  Horrid  nui- 
sance, especially  as  I  had  wanted  to  get  away  for  a  short  holiday 
after  my  hard  work  at  Christmas.  The  average  circulation  of  the 
magazine  is  only  about  seventy-five,  and  there  is  invariably  a 
deficit  on  it  for  the  year,  which  I  nave  to  pay.  At  the  same 
time,  perhaps  it  would  hardly  be  wise  to  discontinue  its  appear- 
ance. How  on  earth  am  1  to  fill  the  two  pages  of  "  local 
matter  "  ?  Well,  anyhow,  I  must  try. 

11.30. — Had  just  begun,  by  wishing  my  parishioners  a  Happy 
New  Year,  coupled  with  the  hope  that  they  would  support  our 
Blanket  Club  better,  when  young  HARRY  TOMLINSON  came  in. 
HARRY  lives  in  London,  where,  according  to  his  own  account,  he 
works  as  a  journalist,  though  I  never  could  discover  to  what 
papers  he  contributed.  He  is  staying  with  his  father,  our  village 
doctor,  for  Christmas,  and  came  to  pay  his  respects  to  me.  I 
was  obliged  to  tell  him  that  I  was  busy,  and  explained  the  nature 
of  my  occupation.  In  the  most  gooa-natured  way,  he  offered 


tion  by  ten ! "  Doubtless  he  is  over-sanguine,  but  still,  as  a 
journalist,  he  knows  far  more  about  these  matters  than  myself. 
Accordingly,  I  have  handed  over  to  him  a  report  of  the  school 
treat,  and  the  figures  of  the  offertories  (sadly  low,  as  usual)  for 
the  last  month,  and  asked  him  to  urge  the  duty  of  liberal  giving 
upon  our  readers,  beside  making  the  magazine  as  attractive  in 
other  ways  as  possible.  "Don't  fret  yourself,  old  cock,"  were 
his  parting  words.  "  I  'II  make  the  thing  simply  hum  !  "  HARRY 
is  rather  given  to  slang,  I  fear,  but  undeniably  he  has  a  kind 
heart.  I  start  on  my  holiday  to  Eastbourne  this  afternoon. 

Eastbourne,  January  1. — HARRY'S  confidence  in  himself  was 
not  misplaced,  after  all.  Early  this  afternoon  I  received  a  tele- 
gram from  our  Puddleton  stationer,  which  ran:  "Whole  edition 
(150)  of  magazine  sold  out,  Orders  for  two  hundred  more. 
Shall  we  reprint?"  Of  course  I  answered,  "Yes."  What  a  ta- 
lent that  young  man  must  have !  Feel  quite  anxious  to  see  the 
magazine.  With  a  sale,  say,  of  three  hundred  a  month,  it  will 
bring  us  in  a  nice  little  profit  at  the  end  of  the  year. 

January  2. — Most   astounding   and    unpleasant   letters   from 


home  this  morning — all  abusing  me  fiercely  on  account  of  the 
magazine,  and  several  of  them  saying  that  actions  for  libel  would 
be  brought  against  me.  What  can  have  happened?  Must  re- 
turn home  at  once. 

Later. — I  can  hardly  hold  a  pen  for  indignation.  That  young 
scoundrel  has  ruined  me !  The  magazine  consists  of  a  string  of 
offensive  personalities.  -Here  are  a  few  of  the  paragraphs  in  it :  — 

"The  offertories  were  very  low  last  month.  We  may  inform 
Mrs.  MIOSON  that,  in  spite  of  her  attempt  to  conceal  the  coin  in 
her  glove,  we  are  quite  aware  that  it  is  a  penny,  and  not  a  half- 
crown,  which  forms  her  weekly  contribution.  Even  if  she  wants 
more  of  her  money  to  defray  her  wine-merchant's  bill,  she  ought 
to  give  more  than  this." 

*•»••• 

"  Remarkable  event  I  Our  readers  who  were  not  in  church  on 
Christmas  Day  will  hardly  believe  us  when  we  say  that  Mr. 
DIXON  wore  a  really  clean  collar  on  that  occasion.  Such  extra- 
vagance on  his  part  is,  we  believe,  quite  without  precedent.  As 
he  is  in  a  reforming  mood,  why  doesn't  he  give  nis  wife  a  new 
wig  ?  Her  present  one  is  very  ugly,  and  wouldn't  deceive  a  cow." 

*  •  •  •  *  • 

"  Miss  LAVINIA  JOHNSON  (whose  real  age,  let  it  be  known,  is 
forty-five,  if  it 's  a  day)  was  again  escorted  home  on  Sunday  by 
Captain  PECKHAM.  Fie,  fb,  LAVINIA  !  Remember  we  have  our 
eye  upon  you  !  " 

*  *  *  *  •  • 

"The  Lord  Bishop  of  the  Diocese  will  preach  in  the  parish 
church  on  January  24.  We  strongly  recommend  all  sufferers 
from  insomnia  to  be  present  on  this  occasion.  His  Lordshi"'s 
sermons  have  been  known  to  cure  the  most  obstinate  cases.  By 
the  way,  why  doesn't  his  Lordship  pad  his  calves?  " 

January  4. — When  I  called  on  the  perpetrator  of  these  out- 
rages, he  had  the  effrontery  to  say  that  he  had  only  carried  out 
my  wishes  by  making  the  magazine  readable,  and  by  increasing 
its  circulation.  This  only  could  be  done,  he  added,  by  imparting 
a  flavour  of  the  New  Journalism  to  it,  which  he  had  accordingly 
given  it. 

This  morning's  post  brought  me  a  letter  from  my  patron, 
suggesting  that  I  should  resign  the  living  at  once,  and  another 
from  the  Bishop,  asking  for  an  immediate  interview. 


46 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  23,  1897. 


READY-MADE  'COATS-(OF-ARMS)  •   OR,   GIVING   'EM   FITS! 


BARON  L-CKY)  OF  DUBLIN. 

"Arms :  Quarterly;  1st,  a  highly  cultured  fishjout  of  water  guttee  de  larme ;  2nd,  on  a  field(-night), 
five  lozenges  emollient  for  the  voice ;  3rd,  on  a  ministerial  bench  highly  proper  a  sage  of  renown  souffrant 
under  a  surfeit  of  bores  rampant ;  4th,  on  ground  repugnant  fretty  a  lecky -daisy  or  iriah  sensitive  plant 
verdant  (green).  Crest :  An  Irish  harpy  surcharged  financially  on  the  pounce  proper.  Supporters : 
Dexter,  a  british  lion  (LL.D.)  of  literature  indented  sable,  and  suitably  arrayed  in  gants-de-suede  and 
shoes  elastically  sided ;  sinister,  an  heraldic  camelopard  sejant  flexed  at  all  joints,  academically  habited, 
collared,  capped,  and  gowned. 


OH,  LOR  I  OR,  THE  WAYS  OF  OUR 
WATER-WACS. 

(Some  way  after  Southey's  "  Lodore.") 
How  do  our  Water-wags  worry  and  bore  ? 

Here  they  come  laughing,  and  there  they 

come  chaffing, 
And  here  they  come  growling,  and  there 

they  go  scowling ; 
They  wrangle  and  squabble, 
And  get  in  a  hobble ; 
They  haggle  along 
With  language  that 's  strong. 
With  wise  wag  and  nod  irate 
Maunders  the  Moderate ; 
With  anger  excessive 
The  perky  Progressive, 
Of  purchase  importunate, 
Proclaims  it  unfortunate 
That  dwindling  majority 
Impairs  his  authority. 
And  so  they  go  bothering,  and  pothering, 

and  "  sothering," 
And  bah  !  you  're   obstructive  ! — and  yah  ! 

you're  .-mothering! 
With  endless  tongue-wagging 
Continuously  nagging, 
And  bragging,  and  gagging,  and  fagging, 
and  lagging, 


And  jeering,  and  sneering,   and  yapping, 
and  snapping, 

And   fiercely    hear-hearing,    and    stormily 
clapping, 

Orating  and  prating,  and  mutually  slating, 

What  time  for  sound  water  supply  Lon- 
don 's  waiting. 
Till  we  wish  'twere  all  o'er 
With  the  endless  uproar  1 

That's    how   our    water-wags    worry   and 
bore  I 


At  Aylesbury. 

First  Sportsman.  First  we  drew  a  blank 
and  then  we  had  a  check. 

Second  ditto  (who  is  financially  feeble). 
Why  on  earth  didn't  you  unite  the  two, 
and  bring  the  result  back  to  me? 

"  MADE  IN  GERMANY." — A  curious  mis- 
take on  the  part  of  swarms  of  ultra-pa- 
triotic Teutons,  who  emigrate  to  America, 
and  avoid  that  glorious  military  service 
which  alone  makes  a  German  a  gentleman, 
and  gives  him  the  right  to  ilay  his  non- 
military  comnatriot  without  serious  conse- 
quences. They  possibly  consider  the 
United  States  "the  happy  farther-land," 
whither  they  go  and  fare  better. 


A  NEW  "ADDRESS  TO  THE  DEIL." 

(A  long  way  after'Jiobbie'Burns.y 
OH,  thou!  whatever  name,  great  Sir, 
Prince  Lucio,  or  plain  Lucifer, 
As  up-to-date,  thou  may'st  prefer, — 

They  're  nane  great  catches, 
Whether  derived  frae  classics  or 

Frae  brimstone  matches!— 

Hear  me,  great  Alias,  for  a  wee  ! 

The  leddies  winna  let  thee  be. 

Ye  'd  think  sma'  pleasure  it  could  gie, 

E'en  to  she-novelist, 
To  drag  thee  frae  the  obscuritee 

Wherein  thou  grovellest. 

But  leddies  wi'  an  eye  to  fame, 
Take  leeberties  wi'  thy  dread  name, 
Thy  wanderings  frae  thy  woefu'  hame, 

Lang  fixed  afar ; 
Painting  thee  neither  black,  nor  lame, 

As  auld  fients  are. 

True,  WULLIE  SHAKSPEARE  ance  did  say 
Thou  wert  "  a  gentleman."  But  to-day 
The  leddies  limn  thee  masher  gay, 

Modish  and  maudlin', 
Weel-groomed,  about  the  public  way 

Daundering  and  dawdlin'. 

The  Prince  of  Darkness  as  a  dude, 
Callow  and  cantin',  crass  and  crude, 
Compound  of  prater,  prig,  male-prude, 

And  minor  poet, 
T8 — weel,  I  wadna'  here  intrude 

The  word — ye  know  it  I 
MILTON  and  GOETHE  whyles  might  summon 
Thine     image     forth,     a     graund,     grim, 

glum  'un ; 
But  tis  beyond  the  scribblin'  woman 

Wi'  truth  to  paint  ye. 
She  '11  mak  ye  a  reedeeculous  rum  'un, 

TJnsex,  half  xnint  ye ! 
Thrasonic  Bobadil  the  bard, 
Wha  deems  Parnassus  his  backyard, 
Tried  to  invoke  thy  presence — hard  ; 

As  did  great  "  Festus." 
But  somehow  their  attempts,  ill-starred, 

Scarce  eenterest  us. 
They  havena'  the  true  grit  and  grup 
In  mighty  shape  to  raise  ye  up. 
They  wha  'd  on  genuine  horrors  sup, 

An  scare  a  body, 
Are  not  inspired  by  raw  pork-chop, 

An'  whuskey-toddy. 

But  oh  I  a  leddy-novelist's  Deil 
Wad  scarcely  gar  a  bairnie  squeel ! 
Like  HOTSPUR'S  "sarcenet  oath,"  we  feel 

It  hath  nae  terror. 
Is  lathen  dagger  ta'en  for  steel 

A  greater  error  ? 

Sorrows  o'  Satan  I     Aye,  good  lack  I 

'Tis  bad  to  paint  ye  owre  black ; 

But  thus  whitewash  ye !   Oh  !  quack !  quack ! 

His  truest  "  sorrow  " 
Satan  from  the  she-scribbler's  knack 

Must  surely  borrow. 

Weel,  fare-ye-weel,  Auld  Nickie-Ben! 

Yo  Ve  borne  some  wrangs  at  hands  o'  men, 

But  frae  the  writing-woman's  pen, 

She-poet-prophet, 
Gude  luck  deliver  ye — and  then 

Ye  '11  no  dread  Tophet  1 


PEASE-PUDDING  HOT  FOR  THE  I.  L.  P. — 
The  Keir-Hardie  Norseman  of  the  implac- 
able I.  L.  P.  does  not  seem  to  have  taken 
much  by  his  headlong  anti-Liberal  charge 
in  the  North.  The  Cleveland  voters  ap- 
pear to  be  "  Pease-at-any-price  men." 

Nora  BY  OUR  OWN  INDEFATIGABLE  AND 
IRREPRESSIBLE  JOKER  (still  dodging). — Q. 
What  is  the  gem  most  appreciated  by  an 
association  football  player?  A.  The  toe- 
pass,  of  course. 


JANUARY  23,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


47- 


CURIOUS  CORRESPONDENCE. 

(Received  through  the  Dead  Letter  Office.) 

["It  is  understood  that  the  statue  of  the  late 
JOHN  BRIGHT,  recently  erected  in  the  Central 
Hall  ;it  Westminster,  has  been  sent  buck  to  the 
studio  of  the  artist  who  fashioned  it."— Evening 
Paper.] 

WHAT  !  what !  what  I  Eh !  eh  I  eh !  Well, 
it  might  be  worse !  I  wish  I  could  get 
away  from  the.  end  of  Pall  Mall  West. 
What !  what !  what,  I  But  who  would  take 
care  of  my  horse?  Eh  I  eh  I  eh  I  What] 
what!  whatt 

(Signed)     G-RGB  THE  THIRD. 

The  influence  of  the  unseen  upon  Art  is 
noticeable  in  the  garden  adjoining  the 
Temple  Station  of  the  District  Railway. 
Now  for  some  years  I  have  been  seated  on 
a  music-stool  from  which  I  would  have 
risen  if  I  could.  But  the  foliage  conceals 
mn  from  public  view — in  the  summer  time. 
And  yet  the  cabmen  laugh  as  if  moved  to 
merriment  by  some  absurdity  in  their 
immediate  neighbourhood.  It  is  the  influ- 
ence of  the  unseen. 

(Signed)    J-HN  ST-BT  M-LLB. 

Ship  ahoyl  Now,  you  landlubbers,  as 
you  are  Clewing  us  to  go  ashore,  why 
should  not  1  r;et  down  from  my  mast-head  ? 
You  put  up  ladders  to  cover  me  with 
laurels  and  other  evergreens  last  October. 
I  hoped  then  to  be  able  to  be  off.  But 
no,  you  kept  me  with  my  face  turned  to- 
wards the  Thames.  I  am  tired  of  trying 
to  see  what  they  are  having  for  dinner  at 
the  Grand  Hotel  by  looking  down  the 
kitchen  chimney.  So,  ship  ahoy!  Every 
man  should  do  his  duty.  So  take  me 
down  and  let  me  go  to  the  Adelphi  to  see 
TEHRISB  in  JUack  Eye'd  Susan.  Ship  ahoy! 
(Signed)  N-LS-N  AND  BK-NTB. 

For  nearly  two  centuries  I  have  been 
pointing  my  baton  at  the  cats  behind  the 
Banqueting  Hall  of  Whitehall,  now  given 
over  to  the  members  of  the  Royal  United 
Service  Institution.  I  have  worn  during 
that  lengthy  period  the  scanty  costume  of 
an  early  Roman.  I  am  weary  of  a  stony 
existence,  and  not  even  the  conversation 
of  the  workmen  building  the  annexe  to  the 
office  of  the  Charity  Commissioners  in- 
torpsts  me.  So  let  me  go  home  to  the 
ruined  studio  of  the  wretched  sculptor  who 
fasliioned  me. 

(Signed)    J-M-S  THE  SECOND. 

I  was  greatly  pleased  when  I  heard  that 
»  statue  had  been  erected  to  my  worthy 
friend  and  colleague  in  the  agitation 
against  the  Corn  Laws,  JOHN  BRIGHT,  in 
the  Houses  of  Parliament.  But  I  am  not 
sorry  that  he  is  going  back  to  his  native 
studio.  The  public  never  appreciate  us. 
I  myself  have  been  standing  somewhprp  in 
Camden  Town  in  the  line  of  route  of  the 
yellow  'husses  for  a  long  time.  I  am  a  sort 
of  shplter  for  passengprs  on  foot  attpmpt- 
ing  to  pscape  from  passing  cans  and  furni- 
ture vnns.  And  thosp  who  seek  protection 
abuse  Free  Trade  !  I  notice  that  is  a  play 
upon  words,  but  T  assure  you  it  is  no  jokp. 
Take  me  away.  Let  me  ioin  my  old  friend 
JOHN  I  (Signed)  R-CH-HD  C-BD-N. 

T  am  only  a  voice.  But  I  can  give  you 
mv  name.  You  will  recognise  it  as  one 
who  has  much  to  be  thankful  for.  Never 
havincr  had  a  statue,  I  need  not  ask  to  be 
takpn  home. 

(Sinned)     OL-V-R  CR-MW-LL. 


A  "  BILL  "  WE  HOPE  TO  SEE  IN  CIRCU- 
LATION AGAIN  VKRT  SOON. — Lord  WlLLIAM 
BF.RESFORD. 


HOW    WE    LIVE    NOW. 


Prim  Old  Gentleman.  "  MY  DEAR  YOUNG  LADY,  IT  is  HARDLY  POSSIBLE  FOR  MB  TO  EX- 
PLAIN  TO  YOU  THE  NATURE  OF  THIS — CAUSE  CKLEBRE,    WITHOUT  ENTERING    INTO   DETAILS." 

Very  Modern  Youiig  Lady.  "  MY  DEAR  MAN,  WHAT  DO  YOU  TAKE  HE  FOR  ?    WHY,  /  UIAD 
THIS  PAPER  EVERY  MORNING!" 


On    Exmoor. 

Hurdles  (who  always  hunts  with  the 
stag,  to  Curdles,  who  affects  the  fox): 
Again  I  didn't  see  you  out  to-day. 

Curdles.   No.      I  've  no   time  to   put   a 
penny  on  the  slot.     I  prefer  a  certainty. 
[Gallops  off  triumphantly  to  the  Valley 
of  Rocks. 

The  Amenities  of  a  Flat. 
Lady  MacSwitchcr   (who  happens   to  be 
in  the  kitchen  responding  to  the  whittle  of 
tlif  lift).  Yes!    What  is  it? 

Voice  from  below.  Well,  old  darling,  'ow 
many  loaves  shall  I  send  up? 

[Cook  and  baker  changed  on  the  same 
afternoon. 


THE  FINE  YOUNO  "ENGLISH  GKNTLB- 
MBN." — Some  English  M.P.'s  have  been  to 
see  ABDUL  HAMID,  and  the  St.  James's  Ga- 
zette, is  moved  to  remark  "what  a  lot  of 
cant  there  must  be  about  us  when  ordi- 
nary English  gentlemen  can  visit,  without 
any  popular  disgust,  a  potentate  of  whom 


lish"  are  Mr.  "TOMMY''  HCUM.ES  and  Sir 
ASHMEAD-BARTI.ETT.  Yet  who  would  ever 
have  dreamt  of  dubbing  Mr.  BOWLES  "or- 
dinary"? And  as  to  being  "English," 
has  not  Mr.  Punch  already  pros. -ntod  Sir 
ELLIS  with  a  "  Rpady-Mndi-  Coats-fof- 
Arms)  "  motto,  "  We  came  over  with  the 
Cunarders"? 


43 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


(JANUARY  23,  1897. 


AMENITIES    OF    SPORT. 

Huntsman  (to  Whip,  sent  forward  for  a  view).   "HAVEN'T  YE  SEEN  HIM,  TOM?" 
Hunts/nan.  "  IF  HE  'D  BEEN  IN  A  PINT  POT,  YK  JOLLY  SOON  WOULD  ! " 


Whip.  "No,  SIR.' 


THE  HAIRDRESSER'S  REVENGE. 

ELIZA  mine — fast  flow  my  tepid  tears — 

Thou  pride  of  my  tonsorial  delight  1 
What   cruel   fate    that    both    our    young 

careers 
A    callous    parent    should    attempt    to 

blight ! 
Wild  thoughts  of  murder  wander  through 

my  head, 

Fierce  indignation  thrills  me  to  the  core, 
As  thou  to  me  art  permanently  dead, 
Revenge   is   what   I   ask,   and   nothing 
morel 

So,  when  thy  father   comes  some   sunny 

morn 

From  his  secluded  and  suburban  home, 
To  have  his  scanty  tresses  deftly  shorn 
And   seek  the   soft   shampoo's  alluring 

foam, 

Then  shall  my  fury   long  controlled  out- 
burst. 

Then  shall  the  vials  of  my  wrath  o'erflow 
In  one  resistless  stream — but  not  at  first — 
Some    method   in    my   madness  I   will 
show. 

With  smile  polite  and  expectation  bland, 
As  is  my  wont,  my  victim  I  will  greet. 
And  with  a  tender,  yet  remorseless  hand 
I  '11    tuck   him    tightly   in  the  wooden 

seat; 
But — though  his  garment  I  arrange  with 

care — 

No   pad    of   cotton-wool    I'll   place    to 
check 


The  constant  falling  of  his  withered  hair 
In  irritating  fashion  down  his  neck. 

With  ghastly  glee  his  hirsute  growth  I  '11 

trim 

In  manner  diabolically  planned, 
So  that  for  weeks  'twill  be  a  curse  to  him, 
And   straight  on   end   persistently   will 
stand ; 


Then  in  the  basin,  stern  and  uncontrolled, 
His  head  I  '11  plunge — he  is  but  half  my 
size — 

The  water  shall  be  very,  very  cold, 

And  all  the  soap  shall  get  into  his  eyes. 

Next  the  machine    brush    in    its    circling 
course 

Shall  give  expression  to  my  deadly  hate, 
What  joy  to  use  it  with  resistless  force 

Upon  the  much-abhorred  paternal  pate  ! 
The  whirr  of  busy  wheels  shall  sound  aloft, 

From  my  revenge  I  will   not  be  debarred, 
And  though   your  father's  voice  may  ask 
for  "  soft," 

I  certainly  intend  to  give  him  "hard." 

And  then — ah !  happy  thought — while  still 

he  squirms 
And    'neafch     the    brush    each    tender 

temple  smarts, 
I  '11  ask   him,   and   in   strong,   expressive 

terms, 

If  he  intends  to  break  two  loving  hearts  ; 
Resistance  will  be  absolutely  vain, 

And  as  his  hair  I  frantically  frizz, 
I  shall  be  hoping  soon  to  see  again 
Your  cheerful  countenance,  my  dearest 
'Liz! 


LITERABT. — A  novel  just  published  is 
called  The  Proctor's  Wooing.  The  Queen's 
Proctor's  wooing  generally  occurs  after  the 
matrimonial  ceremony,  so  possibly  the  ro- 
mance is,  as  suggested  by  an  Oxford  cor- 
respondent, the  romance  of  a  Bull-dog 
Show. 


JANUARY  30,  1SU7  ] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


49 


Mrs.  Flowerly.  "  COME  AND  SIT  DOWN,  MOTHER  DARLING.    You  MUST  BE  TIRED  !" 
Little  Master  Percy.  "You  MAT  HAVE  MY  CHAIR,  G'AN'MA!" 


THE  YELLS. 

A  SONG  OF  THE  CITY  OF  UNLIMITED  SHINDY. 

(Containing  a  Moral  for  Lord  Afayors,  Connty 
Councillors,  and  others  of  the  Powers  that  be.) 

I. 
HEAR  the  Yahoos  with  their  yells — 

Raucous  yells  I 
Of   what    a    world    of    Bumbledom    their 

blatant  blaring  tells  I 
How  they  bellow,  bellow,  bellow, 

On  the  humid  air  of  night ! 
AVhile  each  girl,  in  red  and  yellow, 
Shrieks  and  capers  with  her  "fellow," 

In  sheer  lunatic  delight ; 
Keeping  time,  time,  time, 
In  their  trampings  through  the  slime. 
With  coarse  Cockney  cachinnation,  which 

unmusically  swells 
From   their  Maenad-like   emission   of  wild 

yells,  yells,  yells — 
The  roaring,  loud  outpouring  of  mad  yells ! 


Hear  the  bellowing  minstrel's  yells — 

Brazen  yells! — 
What  a  world  of  savagery  their  toneless 

tumult  tells ! 

Through  the  darkness  or  the  light, 

How  they  ring  out  day  and  night! 

From  the  brazen,  blatant  notes, 

AH  out  of  tune ! 
What  a  dismal  ditty  floats 
From  the  family  with  rough  and  roopy 

throats — 
Blessed  boon! — 
Oh,  from  throttles  like  cracked  bells, 


What   a   gush    cacophonous   voluminously 

wells  I 

How  it  swells  I 
How  it  dwells 

On  split  top-notes  I     How  it  tells 
Of  the  asthma  that  impels 

To  the  gasping  and  the  rasping 
Of  the  yells,  yells,  yells, 
Of  the  shrill,  harsh,  inharmonious,  husky, 

yells,  yells,  yells, — 

Of  the  howling  and  the  growling  of  the 
yells  I 

in. 

Hear  the  clamorous  coster  yells — 

Strident  yells! — 
What  a  tale  of  throats  inflamed  their  tur- 

bulency  tells ! 

In  our  ears,  by  day  and  night, 
How  they  shriek  to  our  affright  I 
Too  much  scarified  to  speak, 
They  can  only  shriek,  shriek 

Out  of  tune, 
In  a  clamorous  appeal  to  the  attention  of 

the  buyer, 
In  a  mad  expostulation  with  the  heedless 

should-be  buyer, 
Rising  higher,  higher,  higher, 
With  a  desperate  desire, 
And  a  resolute  endeavour, 
Now — now  to  sell,  or  never, 
To  the  pale-faced  throngs  who  moon  I 
Oh,  the  yells,  yells,  yells  I 
What  a  tale  their  chorus  tells 

Of  despair  I 

How  they  rattle,  rush,  and  roar! 
Wnat  a  horror  they  outpour 
On  the  bosom  of  the  moist  malodorous  air ! 
Yet  the  ear  it  fully  knows, 


By  the  twanging 
And  the  slanging, 
How  the  custom  ebbs  and  flows  ; 
Yet  the  ear  distinctly  tells, 
By  the  patter, 
And  the  clatter, 

How  the  bidding  sinks  and  swells, 
By   the   sinking  or   the   swelling   in    the 

shindy  of  the  yells, 
Of  those  yells— 

Of  the  coarse,  hoarse,  blaring,  tearing, 
croaking,  clamorous  coster 
yells, 

Uy  the  wrangling  and  the  jangling  of  the 
yells ) 

rv. 
Hear  the  yowling  of  the  yells — 

Newsboy  yells ! 
What  a  world  of  eager  heed  their  bellow- 
ing compels  I 

In  the  gas-glare  of  the  night, 
How  we  shiver  with  affright 
At  the  melancholy  menace  of  their  tone ! 
For  every  sound  that  float* 
From  those  husky  urchin  throats 

Brings  a  groan. 

And  the  nippers — ah  I  those  nippers—- 
Those shrill  shonters,  those  swift  skippers, 

"  On  their  own  1 " 
And  who,  howling,  howling,  howling, 

In  that  ear-tormenting  tone, 
Scare  the  buffer  homeward  prowling 
O'er  the  slippery,  slithery  stone — • 
They  are  neither  man  nor  woman — 
They  are  simply  stibterhuman 

Gutter-ghouls : 

And  each  urchin  yahoo  yowls, 
As  he  howls,  howls,  howls, 

Howls, 

rrtry-xpfthul !  !  !  "    And  he  yells, 
And  his  impish  bosom  swells 
With  the  rapture  of  his  yells, 
Demon-dancing  as  he  yells 
The  last  horror  of  the  time 
In  a  sort  of  Runic  chime. 

"Orl  Hie  winner*,  Kir!"  he  yells. 

How  he  yells  !M 
Keeping  briskly  up  to  time 
With  the  latest  "Orfvl  crime!" 
Oh  !  the  nuisance  of  those  yells, 
London's  everlasting  knells! — 
'ARRT*8,  'ARRIET'S  yahoo  yells ! — 
Guttersnipes  in  grit  and  grime! — 

Tipsy  cads  and  roystering  swells! — 
Shrieking  women  smeared  with  slime ! — 
Gutter-grovelling,  uttering  yells! — 
Oh !  those  hideous  London  yells! 
Can't  we  cheok  them  ?    Is 't  not  time 

To  set  limits  to  the  veils. 
The   awful,   lawful,    lawful,    savage  yells, 

yells,  yells. 

Our    barbarons.     bestial,     blatant,    Babel 
Yells? 


THIS 


Oi.n  ORDER  CHAVOETH. — Mrs. 
RiTrmE  says,  "The  literature 
of  the  lower  Self  is  all  the  voene  just 
now."  That  dainty  and  delightful  writer 
s  rieht,  nnd  the  name  »ho  gives  it  is  an 
not  one.  But  is  it  tww/  different  from  what 
isecl  to  be  railed  "the  literature  of  the 
r~r>nfr  Rlirlf?"  The  main  change  seems 
o  be  that  what  were  once  known  as  "  Gen- 
lemenN  Books"  are  now  "written  t»i 
ndtei  fnr  Indies."  and  rend  orx>nly  by  all. 
Phe  new  wnv.  like  the  New  Woman,  who 
in*  opened  it  up,  <wms  hardly  an  im- 
rovom^nt  on  the  old. 


IBSEN  UP  TO  DATE.  —  According  to  the 
humanitarian,  the  gloomy  playwright 
B8BN  describes  Christiania  as  "the  most 
nimoral  town  in  Europe."  IBSKV  lives 
here,  and  he  ought  to  know.  Should  he 
migrate,  would  the  morals  of  the  Nor- 
wegian town  be  improved  P 


VOL.    CXII. 


50  PUNCH,     OR     THE     LONDON     CHARIVARI.  [JANUABT  30,  1897. 


ON    THE    HIGHWAY   TO    KHARTUM. 

["  One  of  the  objects  for  which  we  occupied  Dongola  was  because  it  was  on  the  highway  to  Khartum." — Lord  Salisbury's  Speech,  January  19,  1897.J 


JANUARY  30,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


n 


RATHER   TOO    MUCH. 

(having  just  cannoned  Stranger  into  brook).  "  OH,  I  'M  so  SORRY  I  BUMPED  YOU  !    WOULD  YOU  MIND  GOINO  IN  AGAIN  FOB  MY  HAT  ? 


PREPARING  FOR  WAR. 

SCENE — Examination  Room  of  Candidates  for  the  Army. 
PRESENT — Examiner  and  two  Aspirants  for  selection. 

Examiner.  And  now,  gentlemen,  I  will  just  ask  you  a  question 
or  two  about  your  physical  training.     Wore  you  either  or  both 


about  drill. 

,       .  f corporal, 

and  then  from  sergeant  to  lieutenant. 

Exam,  (taking  notes).  I  see.     How  about  shooting? 

First  Asp.  Never  tried,  Sir.     Fact  is,  not  exactly  in  my  line. 

Second  Asp.  I  have  won  a  heap  of  prizes  at  Bisley,  and  made 
the  highest  possible  frequently. 

Exam,  (as  before).  I  see.  Done  anything  in  football  or  cricket  ? 

h'irst  Asp.  No,  Sir.     I  prefer  study  to  that  sort  of  thing. 

Sirond  Asp.  Captain  of  the  fifteen  and  the  eleven  when  I  was 
at  school. 

Exam,  (same  business).  I  see.  And  now  how  about  swimming 
and  horsemanship? 

First  A.i]>.  Again,  Sir,  I  am  rather  out  of  it.  But  dare  say 
I  could  manage  both  if  I  tried. 

Xrcond  Asp.  Hold  the  Albert  Medal,  Sir,  for  saving  the  life  of 
a  little  chap  who  tumbled  overboard  mid  Channel,  and  was  ac- 
customed to  horses  long  before  I  got  into  Eton  jackets. 

Exam,  (as  lie  fore).  Yes.     And  about  athletics,  generally? 

First  Asp.  Bather  weak  in  them,  I  am  afraid,  Sir.  Doctor 
has  passed  me,  but  I  am  careful  of  my  health. 

Second  Asp.  Haven't  got  that  excuse,  Sir.  I  am  as  hard  as 
nails,  weigh  twelve  stone,  and  thoroughly  enjoy  a  fifteen  miles' 
j-.unt  before  breakfast. 

Exam,  (dosing  note-book).  I  see.  Well,  No.  2  has  come  out 
very  well,  but  as  No.  1  has  answered  three  dates  more  than  his 
competitor,  and,  as  there  is  only  one  vacancy,  I  fear  I  must  pass 
him  and  refuse  the  other. 

First  Asp.  Thank  you,  Sir.     I  'm  greatly  obliged  to  you. 

Second  Asp.  Well,  I  'm  blowed — or  rather  would  be  if  I  weren't 
in  such  prime  condition  1 

[Scene  closes  in  upon  the  Future  of  the  British  Army. 


SHOTS  AT  SCIENCE. 

(Page  from  the  Diary  of  a  Literary  Explorer.) 

["  Mr.  F.  ( '.  SELOUS,  in  his  speech  at  the  Sport*  Club,  insisted  thai,  big 
game  shooting  was  a  benefit  to  civilisation." — Daily  Paper.} 

M/mday. — Really  must  get  my  lecture  upon  '"He  Planetary 
System  "  into  shape.  Promised  to  deliver  it  to  the  Currypowder 
Islanders  before  the  end  of  the  week.  Let  me  see,  "  The  system 

consists  of  Venus,  Mars "  Stopped  at  this  moment  by  the 

appearance  of  a  tiger. 

Tuesday. — Got  the  tiger-skin  all  right.  Ready  to  be  sent  home. 
Now  for  my  lecture.  Let  me  see,  should  say  something  ex- 
planatory as  a  prologue.  Bother,  interrupted  again.  This 
time  by  a  pack  of  wolves. 

Wednesday.— Wolves  invisible.  Lovely  day.  Now  I  will  be 
quiet  and  get  through  my  work.  Simple  enough  ;  only  have  to 
write  for  the  Currypowder  Islanders.  Let 's  see — here  we  are, 
"The  system  consists  of  Venus,  Mars —  What  was  that? 
The  trumpeting  of  a  wild  elephant.  Well,  I  am  prepared  for  him. 

Thursday. — Awfully  tiredl  Jumbo  gave  me  a  pretty  dance  I 
I  really  must  get  on  with  my  lecture.  "The  system  consists  of 
Venus,  Mars —  '  Again !  Noise  of  rattlesnake !  And  there  's 
a  cobra  1  And  yonder  a  python  I 

Friday. — Splendid  sport,  yesterday.  But  now  as  I  have  to 
deliver  my  lecture  to-morrow,  must  really  set  to  work.  Wouldn't 
disappoint  the  Currypowder  Islanders  for  millions.  "The  sys- 
tem consists  of  Venus,  Mare '  As  I  live,  a  grisly  1 

Saturday. — Busy  cutting  up  the  bear's  meat.  Really  excel- 
lent eating.  But  who's  to  help  me  to  discuss —  Why,  aa  I 
live,  there  come  the  members  of  the  Currypowder  Islanders! 
And  that  reminds  me  that  I  promised  to  read  them  a  paper  on 
"The  Planetary  System."  Too  late  now.  They  seem  disap- 
pointed! Only  thing  to  do — ask  them  up  to  dinner 

They  have  just  finished,  and  are  thanking  me.  I  suggest  that  I 
would  be  willing  to  read  them  my  paper  on  "  The  Planetary 
System  "—as  much  as  I  have  done  of  it.  They  reply  that  they 
believe  the  contents  of  it  already.  However,  they  would  be 
pleased  to  have  my  MS.  if  I  wrapped  it  round  a  bottle  of  whisky. 
Greatly  gratified.  Most  successful  meeting  I  have  ever  known. 


52 


PUNCH,    OK    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  30,  1897. 


7. 


SONGS    AND    THEIR    SINGERS.      No.   VI. 


ROUNDABOUT  READINGS. 

(Mr.  liobert  Roundabout  to  his  Sister-in-law.} 

No.  VII. — OF  LETTERS — OF  BREAKFASTS  AND  THEIR  EATERS — OF  A 
CHILDREN'S  PAHTY — OF  JACK  HOKNER — OF  THINKING. 

MY  DEAR  LUCY, — JACK  has  been  good  enough  to  undertake  to 
hand  you  this  letter  before  he  leaves  you  to-morrow  on  his  re- 
turn to  Cambridge.  I  admit  that  this  method  of  postage  is  not 
too  safe,  letters  having  the  most  fatal  facility  for  clinging  to 
coat  pockete  long  after  they  should  have  been  delivered.  Still, 
sooner  or  later  you  will  receive  it,  even  if  JACK,  as  will  probably 
be  the  case,  has  to  post  it  to  you  from  Cambridge.  I  send  JACK 
back  to  you,  as  I  received  him,  in  first-rate  health,  a  much-im- 
proved shot  and  a  most  vigorous  wielder  of  his  knife  and  fork. 
Indeed  I  might  have  contented  myself  with  invoicing  him  to 
you  in  the  terms  of  trade,  as  for  example  thus: — Madam,  in 
accordance  with  your  obliging  order,  I  have  to-day  despatched 
to  your  address,  by  rail,  One  Boy,  containing,  in  addition  to  the 
usual  articles,  one  large  sole  (fried),  two  mutton-cutlets,  two 
sausages  on  mashed  potatoes,  two  poached  eggs,  toast,  butter, 
marmalade,  and  two  breakfast-cups  of  best  Chinese  tea.  I  trust 
the  parcel  will  arrive  in  good  condition  and  give  satisfaction. 
Hoping  to  be  favoured  with  a  continuance  of  your  esteemed 
commands,  I  beg  to  remain.  Madam,  your  obedient  servant, 
&c.,  &c.  This,  my  dear  LUCY,  is  no  exaggeration.  I  am 
telling  you  the  plain  and  simple  truth  about  your  astonishing 
boy's  breakfast  this  morning.  Your  own  experience  will  con- 
vince you  of  my  veracity.  Oh,  happy  time  of  boyhood,  dura 
puerorum  ilia  (JACK  will  construe),  now  far  off  appear  the  days 
when  I  too  thought  nothing  of  such  a  breakfast,  nay,  when  I  could 
top  up  with  deep  draughts  of  beer  from  the  mighty  three-handled 


tankard  that  circulated  from  hand  to  hand  after  our  undergradu- 
ate feasts.  I  don't  know  how  it  is,  but  it  is  a  fact  that  men  of 
my  age  lose  the  tremendous  gusto  for  breakfasts  that  inspires 
the  young  to  these  feats.  We  dally  with  a  kipper  or  toy  with  a 
boiled  egg,  and  are  glad  to  get  the  ineal  over  in  a  dyspeptic 
hurry  while  the  youngsters  are  still  engaged  on  the  second  of 
the  four  or  five  courses  iiito  which  they  divide  it. 

It  was  very  good  of  you  to  lend  me  the  boy  for  a  few  days, 
and  I  can  assure  you  I  enjoyed  his  visit  very  much.  He  "s  a 
fine,  manly,  straightforward  lad,  fresh,  breezy,  and  unaffected, 
and,  as  for  looks,  he  is  just  the  counterpart  of  what  his  dear 
father  was  in  the  old  days,  not  an  Apollo,  but  something  far 
better,  an  open-faced,  clean-complexioned,  bright-eyed,  and 
crisp-haired  English  youth.  And  they  all  liked  him.  Old  CAH- 
KUTHERS,  who,  as  you  know,  was  once  in  the  ministry,  and  still 
retains  that  air  of  portentous  mystery  which  goes  with  the 
possession  of  secrets  de  Polichiiielle,  even  he  relaxed  under  JACK'S 
influence,  and  was  good  enough  to  smile  at  some  of  the  boy's 
undergraduate  stories,  and  to  flavour  them  afterwards  with  some 
reminiscences  of  his  own  days  at  Cambridge.  Nor  was  JACK  in- 
attentive to  the  fair.  Miss  CARRUTHERS — she  "s  a  pretty  little 
touzled  fair  girl,  with  an  attractive  move — has  no  reason  to  com- 
plain of  the  way  in  which  JACK  helped  her  over  various  fences 
when  she  came  out  with  the  other  ladies  to  the  shooting  lunch, 
or  of  his  readiness  to  turn  over  the  leaves  of  the  drawing-room 
ballads  with  which  she  softened  our  manners  nor  allowed  them 
to  be  savage  after  dinner.  In  a  word,  he  's  a  good  boy,  and 
though  your  gentle  mind  hates  the  idea  of  killing,  I  must  tell 
you  that  the  way  in  which  he  pulled  down  some  of  my  tallest 
pheasants  in  Parson's  Grove  left  nothing  to  be  desired.  Even 
the  veteran  CARRUTHEHS,  who  has  missed  rocketers  with  glorious 
certainty  through  more  than  twenty  seasons  was  good  enough 
to  say  that  if  JACK  went  on  like  that  he  would  make  a  shot — in 
time,  and  approbation  from  CARRUTHERS  is  praise  indeed.  And 
the  boy  was  just  as  good,  and  played  his  little  part  with  the 
same  simple  good  nature  all  through.  We  all  went  to  a  pretty 
children's  party  at  the  HAEDYS',  not  far  from  here.  They  had 
secured  him  for  one  of  the  tableaux — "  Cinderella  and  the  Prince  " 
— and  I  can  assure  you  he  made  a  most  excellent  Prince,  and 
showed  a  princely  grace  in  his  kneeling  position  at  the  fair 
Cinderella's  feet.  And  when  the  children  came  on  and 
acted  their  fairy-stories,  finally  dancing  round  JACK,  who  was 
robed  in  a  huge  fur  coat  and  beard  to  represent  a  captured 
giant,  the  applause  and  enthusiasm  were  deafening.  But  the 
hero  of  the  performance  was  SEBASTIAN  HARDY,  aged  three-and- 
a-half.  To  this  promising  actor  the  part  of  Jack  Horner  had 
been  allotted,  his  duty  being  to  dance  gaily  on  to  the  stage 
holding  a  dish  in  his  hand,  to  put  in  his  diminutive  thumb,  to  pull 
out  an  imaginary  plum  and  devour  it  with  the  self -appreciative  joy 
associated  with  his  character.  When  his  turn  came,  SEBASTIAN, 
who  is  but  lately  out  of  frocks  and  into  shorts,  danced  on,  but 
forgot  the  extraction  of  the  plum.  A  second  performance  of  the 
whole  series  having  been  called  for  by  the  audience,  SEBASTIAN 
appeared  again,  and  on  this  occasion  went  through  the  thumb 
and  plum  part  with  a  conscientious  gravity  that  moved  us  all  to 
fits  of  laughter.  This,  however,  offended  the  actor,  for  when  he 
was  brought  round  to  the  front  of  the  house  and  placed  in  his 
mother's  arms  he  complained  loudly  that  "  When  I  corned  on  the 
first  time  and  forgot  my  plum  nobody  laughed,  but  when  I 
corned  on  again  and  put  in  my  thumb,  jus'  as  uncle  SYDNEY 
told  me,  everybody  laughed."  Afterwards.  SEBASTIAN  honoured 
me  by  sitting  on  my  knee.  The  Sandman  nad  strewed  his  little 
eyes  with  dust,  but  the  boy  had  a  fine  spirit,  and  being  deter- 
mined to  see  the  performance  out  would  not  yield  to  sleep. 

So  I  told  him  I  knew  he  wanted  to  think — that  all  grown-up 
people  always  thought  at  this  particular  hour,  and  he  ought  not 
to  be  an  exception.  "How  shall  I  think?"  he  asked.  "Close 
your  eyes  very  tight,"  I  said ;  "  we  always  close  our  eyes  when 
we  think."  Whereupon  his  eyelids  dropped,  and  in  half  a 
minute  the  little  fellow  was  asleep  in  my  arms.  I  often  wish  I 
could  think  like  that. 

Good-bye,  my  dear  LUCY,  I  hear  the  dog-cart  coming  up  the 
drive  for  JACK,  so  I  close  this  letter  with  all  good  wishes,  and 
remain  now,  as  always,  Your  affectionate  brother,  BOB. 


An  Involuntary  Truth,. 

Old  Female  (to  Member  of  Anti-gambling  League).  Yes,  Sir, 
I'm  'eartily  one  with  you.  It  aint  the  'urdles,  or  the  'edges,  or 
the  other  hobstacles  that  I  hobjects  to,  but,  as  my  pore  'usband 
used  to  say,  "  It 's  the  hun'appy  'osses  wot  breaks  their  backers." 


ORNITHOLOGICAL. — It  is  stated  that  pigeons  frequent  the  great 
London  fish-market.  Surely,  therefore,  its  name  ought  to  be 
changed  to  Cooiug-and-Billings-gate. 


JANUAKY  30,   1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


SAUCE  FOR  THE  GANDER. 

A  SCHEME  bus  been  I. iid  before  Mr.  1'uncli  for  an  agency 
which  is  evidently  intended  to  operate  in  trieudly  rivalry  with 
one  referred  to — we  regret  to  say,  in  sadly  unsympathetic  terms 
— by  tbe  Daily  ChruiudK,  and  established  to  conduct  "  Smart 
Society  "  on  "  Night  Tours  through  Whitechapel  and  Darkest 
London." 

The  Rival  Undertaking  is  based  on  somewhat  similar  lines,  as 
will  be  seen  from  the  preliminary  advertisement  submitted  to 
Mr.  Punch,  to  which  he  bus  much  pleasure  in  giving  publicity  in 
these  columns  :  — 

THE   WEST-END  EXPLORATION  AGENCY,  Ln. 

Head  Office,  Second  t'luur  front,  Three  Culls  Lune,  JiuhiuU  (Jreen,  E.G. 

JSraiick  Aijatcies  at  WluteclMpel,  I'uplar,  Limdunuse,  <Sx. 

This  Association  has  been  formed  for  the  purpose  of  organising 
Night  Tours  through  Belgravia  and  Lightest  London,  and  tnere- 
by  affording  Members  of  the  Industrial  Classes  an  opportunity 
of  exploring,  under  experienced  guidance  and  in  perfect  safety, 
those  parts  of  the  West  End  to  which  access  has  been  hitherto 
either  impossible  or  attended  by  considerable  risk. 

On  application  to  any  of  the  agencies,  and  payment  of  a  small 
fee  per  nead,  parties  desiring  to  make  the  tour  will  be  personally 
conducted  by  competent  guides,  specially  selected  for  their 
knowledge  of  West  Kml  purlieus,  and  their  intimate  acquaint- 
ance with  members  of  the  "  Exposed  Tenth." 

Arrangements  have  been  entered  into  whereby  tourists  will  be 
enabled  to  penetrate  to  the  inmost  recesses  of  certain  Pall  Mall 
Clubs,  the  mere  thresholds  of  which  have  never  before  been 
crossed  by  the  most  enterprising  outsider,  and  it  is  confidently 
anticipated  that  the  appalling  spectacles  which  may  be  beheld 
during  a  brief  inspection  of  such  notorious  haunts  as  the  "  Athe- 
naeum," ''Reform,"  "Oxford  and  Cambridge,"  and  "Brooks's" 
Clubs  will  surpass  the  most  vivid  and  thrilling  descriptions  of 
Socialist  Orators  and  Feminine  Novelists! 

Excursionists  may,  should  they  desire  it,  enter  into  conversa- 
tions with  various  members  of  a  population  composed  almost 
entirely  of  Habitual  Ecclesiastics,  Legislators,  Officers  of  both 
Services,  Casual  and  Professional  Litterateurs,  and  Artists,  who, 
if  civilly  interrogated,  may  be  expected  to  furnish  invaluable 
information  as  to  their  earnings,  occupations,  morals,  and  man- 
ner of  life  generally. 

As  a  rule,  the  most  irreclaimable  aristocrats  will  be  found 
perfectly  tractable,  provided  they  are  given  to  understand  that 
they  are  the  subjects — not  of  idle  curiosity,  but— of  genuine 
interest  and  sympathy.  Some  caution,  however,  should  be  ob- 
served in  localities  known  to  be  frequented  by  Bishops,  and  it 
is  distinctly  unsafe  to  make  advances  to  a  Retirea  Admiral, 
unless  with  the  sanction  of  the  Conductor. 

Flying  visits  will  be  paid  to  Smart  Dinner  Parties,  from  which 
the  Tourist  will  carry  away  an  ineffaceable  impression  of  the 
Torpid  Satiety  that  may  almost  be  said  to  be  the  chronic  condi- 
tion of  the  Upper  Classes. 

Typical  ''  Balls "  and  "  Crushes "  will  be  prominent  features 
in  each  excursion,  affording  as  they  do  Ghastly  Examples  of  the 
terrible  overcrowding,  insufficient  clothing,  and  imperfect  venti- 
lation, in  which  so  many  uncomplaining  sufferers  are  compelled 
to  pursue  their  sole  means  of  enjoyment ! 

facilities  have  been  afforded  for  the  inspection,  during  any 
time  of  the  Day  or  Night,  of  the  most  Fashionable  Hotels  by 
Parties  accompanied  by  a  Conductor,  who  will  be  empowered  to 
take  them  over  the  various  Eating  Rooms  and  Dormitories, 
whether  occupied  or  otherwise. 

I  .ady  inhabitants  of  the  East  End  wishing  to  see  this  neighbour- 
hood can  be  conducted  round  during  the  day,  and  see  their  jaded 
and  overworked  sisters  of  the  West  End  engaged  in  their  unremit- 
ting toil  of  "  driving,"  "  calling,"  "  leaving  cards,"  "  bazaar-hold- 
ing," and  other  equally  arduous  and  poorly-remunerated  occu- 
pations. 

Owing,  however,  to  the  condition  of  some  of  the  chief  West 
End  thoroughfares,  under  no  circumstances  can  Ladies  be  per- 
mitted to  join  the  Night  Tours. 

Male  East  Enders,  if  suitably  attired  (rabbit-skin  caps  and 
"pearlies"  must  not  be  worn),  need  apprehend  no  danger  at  any 
time,  provided  they  remain  close  to  their  conductor,  and  follow 
his  advice  in  all  emergencies. 

In  conclusion,  the  Organisers  venture  to  express  their  san- 
guine expectation  that  these  Tours  will  prove  not  only  popular, 
but  of  inestimable  benefit  to  the  community  at  large,  tending, 
as  they  must,  to  promote  mutual  goodwill  by  encouraging  closer 
intercourse  between  the  Masses  and  the  Classes,  and  enabling 
the  most  thoughtless  Son  of  Toil  to  realise  for  himself  the  de- 
pressing monotony  and  triviality  of  the  existence  to  which 
Fashion's  merciless  decree  condemns  her  countless  thousands  of 
White  Slaves!  And  so  says  Mr.  Punch. 


THERE    ARE    WAYS    OF    PUTTING    THINGS. 


Assistant  Milliner. 
TRIMMIMI,  MADAM. 
BRUNETTE  ! " 


'  I     SHOULD    CERTAINLY     ADVISE     THE    YELLOW 
I     ALWAYS     RECOMMEND     YELLOW     FOR    A 


THE  HAWARDEN  CAMPAIGN. 

A  CORRESPONDENT  forwards  to  us  the  following  news  clipping 
He  unfortunately  forgets  to  mention  the  paper  from  which  it  is 
taken,  but,  judging  from  internal  evidence,  we  are  inclined  to 
the  opinion  that  it  is  the  War  Cry. — 

THE  CAPTURE  OF  HAWAEDEN 

is  by  this  time  matter  of  history.  Everyone  knows  how  the 
General  approached  the  Castle  single-handed,  and  how,  after  a 
short  but  brilliant  attack,  he  forced  the  garrison  to  capitulate. 
But  how  complete  'the  victory  was,  comparatively  few  have 
realised.  Not  a  single  newspaper,  so  far  as  we  are  aware,  has 
taken  any  notice  of  the  fact  that,  before  the  General  left  the  field, 

MR.  GLADSTONE  WAS  GAZETTED  CORPORAL. 

iinco  then,  all  has  been  activity  at  Hawarden.  The  Castle  has 
been  turned  into  barracks,  and  the  library  into  a  doss-house. 
The  Corporal  is  indefatigable.  He  is  already  known  as  "  Hot 
and  Strong  WILLIAM."  He  is  saving  souls  by  the  thousand,  and 
recruits  are  pouring  in  so  fast  that  twenty  orderlies  are  busy 
night  and  day  taking  down  then-  names.  On  Sunday  hist 

A  GRAND  PARADE 
was  held  on  the  lawn,  when  the  Corporal  for  the  first  time  wore 
bis  uniform.  It  would  be  madness  to  attempt  to  describe  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  meeting.  Never  was  such  singing  heard  as 
when  the  Corporal  led  off  the  Army,  marching  backwards,  and 
beating  time  with  both  hands.  But  the  climax  was  reached 
when  the  hymn  was  ended,  and  tbe  Corporal  called  a  halt. 
"Attention!"  he  cried,  in  his  well-known  silvery  voice,  which 
rang  clear  and  distinct  to  the  uttermost  rank  of  that  huge 
armament.  "  Now  then,  are  you  ready  ? 

PREPARE  TO  RECEIVE — SALVATION  !" 
In   an  instant   the   air  was   darkened   with   caps   and   bonnets. 
Thirty  thousand  voices  cheered  ;  thirty  thousand  "  Hallelujahs !  " 
rent  the  welkin.     In  a  scene  of  unparalleled  excitement, 

"HOT  AND  STRUM*  WILLIAM"  LAID  ON  THE  Si'U'HfR  AM. 

BRIMSTONE  ! 

Every  soul  was  saved.  Satan  has  no  chance  against  the  Cor- 
poral. The  Hawarden  campaign  is  simply 

A  SERIES  OF  BRILLIANT  VICTORIES. 


54 


PUNCH      OR     THE     LONDON     CHARIVARI.  [JANUARY  30,  1897. 


Effie.  "DADDY,  I  'SE  HURTED  MY  FINGEK  ! 
(Fortissimo.)  "DADDY,  I'SE  HUETED  MY  FINGER  !!! 


A    MODEST    REQUEST. 

(No  answer.)         (Crescendo.)  "DADDY,  I 'SB  HVRTSD  MY  FarosR  .'.'"    (No  atuteer.) 
(No  answer.)        (Reproachfully.)  "DADDY,  YOU  mam  SAY  'On'!" 


THE  SHEPHERD'S  SOLILOQUY. 

A  POLITICAL  PASTORAL. 

AHOUMENT. — Menalcas,  after  the  first  pastoral  contest  of  the  year,  museth, 
not  without  misgiving,  on  the  show  made  by  his  "  ragged  sheep,"  as  com- 
pared with  the  woolly  flocks  of  Damietas. 

I  HAVE  heard  of  the  "Shepherd  of  Salisbury  plain,"- 

The  title  just  now  seems  a  trifle  suggestive  1— 
But  I,  Malwood's  Shepherd,  had  counted  on  gain 

From  a  flock  which  seems  proving  a  little  bit  restive. 
That  Salisbury  Damsetas  will  mock  at  my  plight, 

And  swear  that  my  song  is  the  merest  stale  crambo  ; 
While  Palsemon  will  settle  our  contest  at  sight, 

And  give  him  the  prize,  though  we  're  Arcades  Ambn ! 
My  "  smart  strokes  of  rustical  raillery  "  *  tell, 

Ah!  more  than  they  did  in  Virgilian  Pastoral. 
But  as  to  my  sheep — well,  they  scarce  do  as  well 

As  those  of  Damsetas,  of  which  he  seems  master  all. 
Mine  make  lots  of  "  cry,"  but  for  "  wool  " — well,  I  fear 

That  "  my  jolly  sheep  "  find  the  ground  "  false  "  and 

"  shirty  " ; 
With  "  bones  barely  covered  "  when  time  comes  to  shear, 

Of  yield  to  my  scissors  me  thinks  they  '11  prove  thrifty. 
I  did  deem  that  hopeful  Hibernian  lamb 

Would  prove  pretty  woolly.     Perhaps  it  may — later: 
The  Armenian  ewe  and  the  Soudanese  ram. 

Don't  seem  to  come  on,  and  my  grief  is  the  greater. 
Damsetas  is  smiling.     He  hints,  with  that  grin, 

I  'd  best  "  shear  my  swine,"  like  a  Maevius.  Confound  him 
He  is  so  sardonic!     My  flock  does  look  thin. 

How  unlike  the  folded  one  gathered  around  him ! 
Baa!    Baa!     Yes,  you're  beggars  at  bleating,  you  are. 

Much  cry,  little  wool!     Primrose-PoLLio  will  chortle. 
He  's  waiting  the  rise  of  the  right  Shepherd's  star, 

Afar  from  the  haunts  where  we  hustle  and  hurtle. 
*  VIRGIL'S  Third  Pattoral  or  Palcemon." 


Dalmeney  or  Malwood  ?     Our  quarrel,  our  split, 

Damsetas  declares  we  to  mutual  folly  owe. 
Well,  well,  I  don't  mean  that  my  skill  and  my  wit 

Shall  serve  but  for  gracing  the  triumph  of — POLLIO  I 
Baa !    Baa !    Well,  I  '11  fold  you  again  for  the  time, 

But  your  pastoral  promise  is  not  very  cheering. 
I  do  hope  you'll  plump  up  and  be  woolly  and  prime, 

And  not  prove  all  cry  when  the  time  comes  for  shearing ! 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

ONE  of  my  Baronites  writes  :  — "  I  have  just  been  reading  Many 
Cargoes,  by  Mr.  W.  W.  JACOBS,  which  has  made  me  laugh  much 
and  often.  It  is  a  collection  of  short  stories,  reprinted  from 
various  periodicals,  and  dealing  with  men  that  go  down  to  the 
sea  in  ships  of  moderate  tonnage ;  stories  told  with  such  fresh 
and  unforced  fun  that  their  drollery  is  perfectly  irresistible.  I 
is  by  no  means  safe  to  assume  that  what  has  struck  oneself  as 
delightfully  humorous  will  seem  equally  so  to  others,  but,  bear- 

•  ^Tl         i       P__11 J.- ; 1         T      £_J       :  i-      1...  ».-l      J-«       f*f\nnMTm      oYnr/Mlfl      'x' 


for  example,  and  preserving  his  gravity  unimpaired.  I  have  never 
heard  of  Mr.  W.  W.  JACOBS  before,  and,  for  anything  I  know, 
this  may  be  his  first  literary  voyage,  but  I  can  only  say  that 
the  sooner  he  puts  to  sea  again  and  brings  back  more  cargoes  of 
the  same  goods,  the  better  I  shall  be  pleased."  THE  BARON. 

Signs   of  a  Slump. 
"  OVERTAXED  Ireland  means  the  Union's  doom," 

Cried  late  "United  Ireland,"  much  elated. 
But  now  some  think  that,  as  a  Party  boom, 

Overtaxation  has  been — over-rated ! 

THREE  PER  CENT-INELS.— The  Bank  of  England  guard. 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— JANUARY  30.  1897. 


"THE   BETTER  PART   OF  VALOUR." 

MASTER  H-RO-RT.  "  I  THOUGHT   YOU  WERE  GOING  TO  TACKLE  HTM  ? " 
MASTER  S-ND-RS-N.  "  AH  !    I  DID   THINK  OF  IT-BUT  IF  I  WERE   TO   HIT   HIM  AND 
WOULD  NEVER  FORGIVE  MYSELF  !  " 

["  Although  the  Irish  Unionists  were  prepared  for  an  exhaustive  discussion  on  Irish  overtaxation,  they  hesitated  to  vote  against  the  Government.^  ^ 


JANUARY  30,   1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


57 


"NO    FORRADER!" 

Squirrel  ffarantrt.   "  DULL  WORK  I     So  MONOTONOUS  !     WISH  I  WERE  ROSEBRRY  ! " 


"FORGIVE  AND  FORGET." 

(Recollections  of  an  Argument.) 

"  FORGIVE  "  comes  first.     Perhaps  in  time 

"  Forget "  may  follow  after — 
(I  urge  no  duty  in  my  rhyme, 

To  excite  irreverent  laughter). 
The  mind  and  heart  are  things  apart, 

The  heart  forgives  a  debt, 
The  mind  remembers.     Then  forgive, 

Although  you  mayn't  forget  I 

I  really  wish  that  you  were  not 

To  this  assertion  driven. 
That  injuries  only  when  forgot 

Can  truly  be  forgiven ! 
An  act  unkind  still  borne  in  mind 

Is  unforgiven  yet, 
You  say — and  so  you  can't  forgive, 

Because  you  can't  forget ! 

Forget,  forgive — you  make  them  one, 

Or  quite  misplace  the  latter, 
And  yet,  when  all  is  said  and  done, 

Our  difference  need  not  matter. 
Should  quarrel  be  'twixt  you  and  me, 

Our  heart  and  mind  we  '11  set, 
My  heart — most  freely  to  forgive, 

Your  mind — to  clean  forget  I 


LATEST  FROM  CONSTANTINOPLE.  — The 
SULTAN  declares  that  he  cannot  touch  the 
European  concert  pitch  without  being  de- 
filed. 


A  VERY  PRETTY  DANCE. 

DEAB  OLD  PUNCH, — Just  before  I  start 
for  old  BIRCH,  who  has  told  my  parents 
that  he  will  be  "  glad  to  see  his  young 
friends  "  this  afternoon  as  ever  is,  just  let 
mo  give  you  a  suggestion.  When  I  get 
back  to  my  beastly  school,  there  won't  oe 
much  chance  for  me  to  write  to  any  old 
friend  like  you.  There  will  be  the  regu- 
lation note  to  the  Pater,  when  it  isn't 
addressed  to  the  Mater.  And  we  can't  say 
much  in  that. 

What  I  want  to  tell  you  is  that  we  have 
had  a  very  good  time  of  it  these  holidays. 
My  brother  and  I  have  been  to  heaps  of 
dances,  and  wherever  we  have  gone,  we 
have  found  "  The  Washington  Post."  Do 
you  know  how  to  dance  it?  We  do.  You 
take  hold  of  a  girl  by  both  hands,  try  a 
double  shuffle,  and  then  slide  off  to  another 
part  of  the  room  and  repeat  the  perform- 
ance. It's  great  fun,  and  far  better  than 
the  Barn  Dance.  It  knocks  Sir  Roger  de 
Coverley  into  fits. 

This  is  what  I  suggest — and  BROWN- 
MAJOR  says  it  would  be  first-rate — add  to 
the  double  shuffle  a  Highland  fling  and  the 
old  hop  waltz,  and  the  dance  would  be 
twice  as  jolly.  Then  when  you  were  stand- 
ing out,  you  might  keep  up  the  fun  by 
jumping  about  in  time  to  the  music  until 
you  were  ready  to  begin  again.  If  that 
wouldn't  bring  down  the  house  (aa  they 
say  at  the  theatres),  I  don't  know  what 
would.  And  now,  dear  old  Punch,  I  must 


ilry  up,  aa  I'm  nil  to  linn  ii'n.  Tips 
.iniiiuiii  to  three  pounds,  seventeen  shil- 
lings, and  four  pence.  Not  so  bad  in  these 
n.ird  times.  Kb,  old  man? 

1  ours,  signing  himself  atfectionat«ly, 

In  the  Hull,  JO.NKH  MIMIII. 

Waiting  for  the  Cab.    Black  Monday. 


SPOET1VE  SONGS. 

An  old  and  not  yet  extinyuitlied  Admirer  write* 
to  a  former  Jftaane  on  tin  recurrence  of  her 
Matal  Day. 
I  'M  writing  to  you,  love,  by  night. 

The  house  is  huaued,  the  gas  turned  out, 
My  candle's  solitary  light 

Proclaims  the  darkness  it  would  flout. 
The  fire  with  ill-conditioned  heat 

Has  just  demanded  copious  coal ; 
I  've  got  a  feeling  in  my  feet 

That  tells  my  slippers'  want  of  sole! 
And  yet  I  write,  because  I  know 

To-morrow  will  your  birthday  be. 
In  memory  of  long  ago 

You  will  expect  a  line  from  me  1 
A  little  scrawl  to  bid  you  wealth, 

And  health,  and  happiness,  and  joy, 
The  wishes  that  we  made  by  stealth 

When  you  were  girl  and  I  was  boy  I 
I  wish  them  1     Are  you  satisfied 

To  find  I  still  am  true  in  heart, 
Or  mourn  the  vow  you  once  denied 

In  order  we  might  ever  part  ? 
No  matter  I    Still  I  picture  you 

An  angel  in  a  village  church ; 
Your  eyes  and  bonnet  both  were  blue, 

And  left  confession  in  the  lurch  I 
Yes  I  there  demure  and  even  prim. 

You  drove  my  mind  to  earthly  things, 
Yet,  as  I  've  said,  an  angel  slim, 

You  only  needed  little  wings. 
And  so  to-day  again  I  went 

To  that  same  church  where  first  we  met. 
Ah  I  then  I  knew  the  Love  you  lent, 

But  gave  it  with  the  curse  Regret  1 
Days  upon  days,  and  years  on  years, 

Have  swiftly  come  and  slowly  gone  I 
We  travel  through  the  Vale  of  Tears 

Wide  separated  and  alone  1 
But  still,  whatever  be  our  fate, 

I  yearly  wander  to  the  shrine 
Where  once — I  need  not  give  the  date — 

I  knew  your  prayers  were  wholly  mine  I 
And  so  to-night  accept  this  leaf 

Culled  from  the  pocket-book  of  Time, 
Who  may  not  play  the  part  of  thief 

In  this  our  lifelong  pantomime. 
I  climbed  the  Mountains  of  the  Moon, 

And  fell. — Why  should  I  thus  repine  P 
/  am  a  grey-haired  Pantaloon 

But  you  are  still  a  Columbine  I 


EXPECTED    ADDRESSES. 
THK  rule   relating  to  post  cards,  "the 
address  only  to  be  written  on  this  side,"  is 
abolished.     It  is  probable  that  the  letter 
sorters  will  now  be  compelled  to  decipher 
such  addresses  as  the  following  :  — 
Miss  JONES,  Mudby-in-the-Marsh, 

Love  to  Granny,  Essex. 
Mrs.  SMITH,  22A,  George  Street, 

ADOLPHUS  sailed  yesterday  for 

Australia,  W. 
Army  and  Navy  Stores, 
The  number  is  45266798  Westminster 

Also  a  pound  of  sausages,  S.W. 
With  lots  of  kisses  to  my  own 
darling  Miss  HOPKINS, 

Laburnum  Lodge,  The  Park, 
from  your  ever  Brut  on  devoted 

BF.RTT  BODGER 

P.S.  the  footbawl  match  beggins  at  1  past 
2.  Master  TOMKINS  dont  be 
late  Dr.  CANE'S  school,  birchington. 


58 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  30,  1897. 


A    SUGGESTION. 

(For  Frozen-out  Foxhunters  and  their  Idle  Studs,  if  the  Winter  is  setting  in  now.) 


THE  CENTENARY  OF  THE  TOP-HAT. 

Introduced  at  the  beginning  of  January,  1797. 
(Some  Suggestions  for  its  Celebration.') 

ITS  instant  and  universal  discontinuance. 

The  erection  of  a  statue  of  the  inventor 
in  every  market  town  of  the  United  King- 
dom, wearing  a  topper,  in  white  marble. 
This  will  serve  as  an  object  lesson  in  in- 
artistic incongruity  for  future  generations. 

A  general  distribution  of  existing  speci- 
mens of  this  headgear  among  necessitous 
and  deserving  scarecrows  throughout  the 
country. 

A  grand  parade  and  march  past  of  guys, 
attired  with  the  surplus  stock  of  silk  hats 
now  lying  in  London  warehouses. 

A  short  Act  to  be  passed  through  Par- 
liament at  an  early  date  this  Session,  con- 
signing the  manufacturers  to  Hanwell,  in 
accordance  with  the  popular  opinion  ex- 
pressed in  the  phrase,  "As  mad  as  a 
hatter." 

Football  players,  like  the  cricketers  of 
fifty  years  ago,  to  wear  it  on  all  possible 
occasions,  viz.,  before,  during,  and  after 
a  match.  The  Rugby  game,  with  one  con- 
tinuous "  scrum,"  to  be  encouraged  with 
this  object,  but  Association  players  may  be 
permitted  to  substitute  a  topper,  or  suc- 
cession of  toppers  (preferably  obtained 
from  the  onlookers),  in  lieu  of  the  ordi- 
nary leather  football.  A  "free  kick"  to 
be  given  to  any  person  objecting. 

Its  compulsory  adoption  by  "gutter- 
snipes," bicyclists,  bargees,  freshmen 
(when  wearing  their  gowns),  burglars  (on 
and  off  duty),  port-admirals,  commanders- 
in-chief,  tennis-players,  telegraph-boys, 
heralds,  Kings-at-arms,  beef-eaters,  High- 
landers, sea-cooks  and  their  eldest  sons  in 
the  male  line,  tide-waiters,  mudlarks,  Lord 


Mayors  in  their  pride,  bishops  in  full  ca- 
nonicals, hangmen  in  full  swing,  freemasons 
in  full  fig,  'Arries  in  full  force  on  a  Derby 
day,  Tommy  Atkins  in  full  war-paint,  the 
horse-marines  in  full  charge,  and  by  other 
inappropriate  classes  of  the  community. 
Its  simultaneous  use  by  such  conspicuous 
individuals  as  the  foregoing  will  thus  prove 
equally  surprising  and  ridiculous,  and 
should  result  in  its  speedy  disappearance. 

A  Centennial  <l)de  in  its  honour,  with  a 
prize  of  one  hundred  guineas,  to  De  com- 
peted for  by  the  praiseworthy  gentlemen 
who  versify  for  So-and-so's  pills  or  for 
Thingamy's  soap.  The  winning  composi- 
tion to  be  printed  on  the  leader  page  of 
every  daily  paper  (not  among  the  adver- 
tisements). This  should  have  a  similar 
effect  to  the  previous  suggestion. 

The  prompt  elevation  of  every  Member  of 
Parliament  who  sits  on  his  own,  or,  better, 
another  Member's  hat,  to  "another  place." 
Quite  a  respectable  number  of  stove-pipes 
(not  "  wind-bags ")  can  thus  be  daily  sat 
upon,  and  snuffed  out  and  extinguished. 

A  poll-tax  on  members  of  the  Stock  Ex- 
change, undertakers,  coachmen,  "John- 
nies," and  other  persons  who  would  die 
rather  than  be  seen  without  a  topper. 

The  general  imitation  of  the  Christ's 
Hospital  head-dress,  since  no  satisfactory 
covering  appears  to  be  before  the  public. 

The  abolition  of  the  custom  of  raising 
the  hat  to  ladies,  which  is  ruination  to  the 
brim. 

The  abolition  of  'busses,  which  are  re- 
sponsible for  the  "bashing"  of  the  vast 
majority  of  "Cylinders." 

The  abolition  of  weddings,  where  they 
aro  de  rigveur;  ditto,  ditto  of  Church  Pa- 
rade and  Piccadilly. 

The  abolition  of  the  English  climate,  so 
destructive  of  the  silk  integument. 


The  abolition  of  artists,  who,  as  is  gene- 
rally the  case,  come  a  cropper  when  at- 
tempting to  draw  its  difficult  curves. 

Or,  lastly,  and  best  of  all,  the  universal 
introduction  of  the  most  becoming,  ser- 
viceable and  comfortable  form  of  head- 
gear, to  wit,  Mr.  Punch's  cap,  with  stripes 
and  turned-up  brim,  and,  like  the  great 
Panjandrum,  with  the  little  button  on  top. 
Ladies  may  adopt  Toby's  hat  and  feather. 
So  mote  it  be. 


sy 
th 


GO,  JINGO,  GO! 

(A  Jingoldsby  Lay  up-to-date.  ) 

["  My  belief  is  that  a  well-working  arbitration 
stem  would  be  an  invaluable  bulwark  to  defend 
e  Minister  from  the  Jingoes."  —  Lord  Salisbury. 
"  Gengulphus,   or,    as  he  is  usually  styled  in 
this  country,  '  jingo,'  was  perhaps  more  in  the 
mouths  of  the  '  general  '  than  any  other  saint,  on 
occasions  of  adjuration."—  Ingoldsby.~\ 

EAKL  BEAKIE  hadde  a  sainte,  olde  style, 

And  hys  name  it  was  Sainte  Jyngo. 

J  wythe  a  Y.  Y  wythe  an  N, 

N  wythe  a  G,  G  wythe  an  O, 

They  called  him,  then,  Sainte  Jyngo! 

Lorde  SOLLIE  sayd,  "  Olde  saintes  doe  fail, 

They  are  notte  real  stingo  I 

I  looke  to  Ar-bi-tra-ti-on 

To  save  us  from  Sainte  Jyngo  I  " 

Nowe  is  notte  this  a  prettie  shifte 

In  diplomatic  lingo  ? 

J  wythe  a  Y,  Y  wythe  an  N, 

N  with  G  0  is  nowe  no  GO  ! 

Good-bye,  poore  olde  Sainte  Jyngo! 


A  CURIOUS  LANDSCAPE  FEATURE  OB- 
SERVABLE AT  MONTE  CARLO  IN  THE  EARLV 
SPRING. — Blue  Rocks. 


JANUARY  30,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


59 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

JiXTHACTKU    FROM    TyB     DlAKY     OF    TOBY,    M.P. 

House  of  CuiMiwns.  Tuesday,  Jan.  19. — 
In  accordance  with  formal  notice  and  or- 
dered usage,  Parliament  met  to-day  for 
the  third  Session  of  the  fourteenth  Parlia- 
ment of  the  QVEBN.  Actually,  Session 
opened  last  night  at  Devonshire  House, 
where  the  Duchess  was  "  at  home."  Earlier 
there  were  the  Ministerial  dinners.  On 
the  other  side  of  the  hedge  Spencer 
House,  which  will  conveniently  hold  the 
full  muster  of  Liberal  Peers,  was  hospi- 
tably open,  whilst  the  SQUIRE  OF  MALWOOD 
entertained  his  colleagues  of  the  Commons 
in  the  dining-room  on  Richmond  Terrace, 
where  last  year,  according  to  his  cheerful 
custom,  Lord  ONBLOW,  le  vrai  Amphitryon, 
gave  his  Tuesday  dinners.  All  the  Minis- 
ters, and  some  ex-Ministers,  met  later  at 
Devonshire  House,  adding  to  the  bril- 
liancy of  the  throng  the  distinction  of 
their  uniforms. 

"Reminds  me,"  says  SAHK,  looking 
round  the  room,  his  eye  glowing  as  it  feu 
on  the  warlike  figures  of  JESS K  COLLINGS 
and  POWELL  WILLIAMS  with  swords  girt  at 
their  slim  waists  and  suspicion  of  horse- 
pistols  in  their  coat-tail  pockets,  "of  an- 
other famous  gathering  under  the  hospi- 
table wing  of  an  earlier  but  not  more 
charming  Duchess.  It  was  at  Brussels, 
you  know,  one  night  in  June  eighty-one 
years  ago.  Wonder  whether  we  shall  have 
Waterloo  to  follow  ?  " 

Plenty  of  good  stories  going  round, 
echoes  from  the  several  dinner  tables. 
The  best  is  coupled  with  the  name  of 
Lord  RATHMORB,  even  yet  better  known 
as  our  dear  DAVID  PLUNKET  of  the  Com- 
mons, whose  appropriation  by  the  House 
of  Lords  did  more  than  anything  since 
thev  threw  out  the  Compensation  for  Dis- 
turbance Bill  to  aggravate  the  other 
House.  RATFIMORE.  though  in  full  dress 
like  the  rest  of  the  Premier's  guests, 
didn't  wear  his  sword.  Many  genial  in- 
quiries whv. 

"  Oh ! "  said  the  BPRLEIOH  BALTOTTR.  "  in 
the  present  overtaxed  condition  of  Ireland, 
he  feels  he  cannot  afford  the  luxury  of  a 
sword." 

"Do  you  mean  to  imply,"  said  RATH- 
MORE,  "  that  I  have  tempornrilv  deposited 
the  weapon  with  my  Financial  Relation?" 

That  was  last  night.  But  ancient  usage 
must  be  observed.  It  demands  forma] 
opening  of  Parliament,  with  Lords  Com- 
missioners on  Woolsack  before  Throne,  a 
Queen's  speech  read,  mover  nnd  seconder 
snorting  their  uniforms,  the  Leaders  from 
either  side  of  the  table  crossing  swords 
above  it.  All  this  duly  took  place  to-day 
in  more  than  ordinary  humdrum  fashion. 

Only  for  JBMMT  LOWTHER,  scene  and 
proceedings  would  have  been  hopelessly 
flat.  Man  and  boy.  with  few  intermissions 
arbitrarily  enforced  by  ungrateful  consti- 
tuents, JEMMY  has  for  thirty-two  years  sat 
nnd  listened  on  opening  days  of  revolving 
Session  to  recitation  of  ancient  sessional 
orders  coming  down  from  Cromwellian 
ages.  No  one  says  "  Ave  "  or  "  No  "  when 
question  is  put  from  Chair  that  these  be 
re-affirmed.  Nobody  listens.  If  by  chance 
SPEAKER  forgot  the  formula,  few  would 
notice.  To-day  slumber  of  thirty-five 
years  broken.  On  JBMMT  LOWTHER'S 
quickened  ear  strikes  voice  of  SPEAKER 
submit  ting  rule  prohibiting  Peers  from  in- 
terfering in  Parliamentary  elections.  They 
do  so  overtly  and  covertly,  and  if  it  please 
them,  what  can  the  House  of  Commons  do 
to  stop  them  ?  Nothing.  Then  why  this 
solemn  farce  ? 


ILLE&ALITE 

COGNAC 


ILLICIT- 
STILL  MOSELLE. 


THESl  PREMISES 
BEING 

WHOLLY 
UNLICEr 
we  CAN 
EXCEPT*  _,  ^ 

^/ 

TC     Oyr? 

Ci.l |R-( 


Wl  <A«  RKOMMINO  ov* 

CRIKWJU- 
LJQUIU^). 


WE    BEG   TO 

ANNOUNCE    THAT  Vrfl 
ARE  GOING   INTO 

'LAGER' 


f  HON   MEMBERS 

SHOUU>   TRY    OUR. 


THE  PARLIAMENTARY  (CRIMINAL)  BAH! 

Comtablt  S-eh-rd  W-bit-r  A\.  "  Well,  genta,  You  "re  a  hreakin'  o'  the  law  u  'ard  a«  ever  you  can 
go,  and  you  want  a  hact  o'  Parliament  to  put  you  right !  Thank  you,  genta ;  'ere  '§  your  rery  good 
Valths  and  a  "Appy  New  Year !  " 


he  is  right,  and  that  right  will  prevail. 
"Doirt   know   how   it   is,"   said  J. 


.1  KMMY  first  puts  question  to  himself ; 
then,  in  gravest  manner,  with  that  judicial 
air  that  at  critical  epoch  saved  the  Jockey 
Club,  submits  it  to  conscience  of  awakened 
House.  He  even  takes  a  division,  and 
though  overwhelmed  by  numbers,  Knows 

G. 

TALBOT,  brushing  away  a  consecrated  tear, 
"  but  when  I  listened  to  JBMMT  LOWTHBR 
just  now,  and  saw  TOMMY  BOWLES  rally  to 
his  side  to  lead  the  forlorn  hope  into  the 
lobby,  I  recalled  the  last  scene  by  a  Smith- 
field  fire.  You  remember  how,  when  the 
executioners  placed  a  live  faggot  at  RID- 
LEY'S feet  bound  to  the  stake,  LATIMBR 
said,  '  Be  of  good  comfort,  Master  BOWLBS 
— I  mean  Master  RIDLEY — and  play  the 
man.  We  shall  this  day  light  such  a  candle 
in  England  as  I  trust  shall  never  be  put 
out.'  So  JEMMY  to  TOMMY.  They  are  over- 


come to-day.  But  another  House  of  Com- 
mons anachronism  is  doomed.  They  have 
this  day  lit  a  candle  that  will  burn  up  the*e 
dust-dried  sessional  orders." 

Business  done. — Session  opened. 

Thursday. — Things  have  come  to  pretty 
pass  with  the  mother  of  Parliament*.  It 
appears  that  for  more  than  half  a  century 
House  of  Commons  been  nothing  less  than 
an  unlicensed  public-house!  WILFHID 
LAWSON  long  suspected  it.  To-night  his 
fears  publicly  confirmed  upon  no  less  au- 
thoritv  than  that  of  ATTORNEY-GENERAL. 
That  learned  man  says  short  Act  must  be 
brought  in  to  put  matters  right. 

That  all  very  well,  but  what  are  we  to  do 
in  the  meantime  ?  and  what  about  the  in- 
numerable breaches  of  the  law  in  the  past  P 
Suppose  Act  of  indemnity  may  be  passed. 
But  with  legislative  machine  already  over- 
loaded, weeks,  perhaps  months,  must 


60 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  30,  1897. 


J-mmy  L-wth-r.  "  Now^then,  you  old  dummy,  we  Ve  had  enough  of  you ! ' 


elapse  before  it's  added  to  Statute  Book. 
Any  night  we  are  liable  to  a  raid  of  police, 
and  may  find  ourselves  taking  part  in  a 
morning  sitting  in  Westminster  Police 
Court. 

Incident  quite  demoralised  House  on 
eve  of  Session.  The  Peers  have  meanly 
evaded  their  share  of  responsibility  by 
putting  up  the  shutters,  and  going  off 
home  for  a  week.  This  is  under  pretence 
that  they  have  no  work  to  do,  "  and,"  says 
the  MAHKISS,  "I  do  not  know  that  any 
support  is  given  to  the  constitution  by  our 
coming  here  without  business."  Having 
nothing  to  do  is  the  normal  condition  of 
the  Lords  through  the  greater  part  of  the 
average  Session.  What  they  really  mean 
by  this  movement  is  to  stand  off  and  see 
what  line  the  police  will  take.  If  they 
follow  the  ordinary  course  in  similar  cir- 
cumstances, and  swoop  down  on  premises 
where  liquor  is  sold  without  a  license,  at 
least  they  shall  pick  up  no  prizes  in  the 
persons  of  Peers  of  the  Realm. 

In  the  Commons,  the  attendance  is  very 
small ;  probably  same  motive  that  moves 
the  Peers  operates  in  individual  cases. 
An  Irish  debate  on,  but  quite  impossible 
to  get  up  any  excitement.  Members  come 
and  go,  entering  the  House  timidly,  re- 
tiring stealthily,  startled  at  shadow  of 
the  familiar  policeman  in  the  lobby.  The 
demoralisation  may  only  prove  temporary. 
It  is  certainly  complete.  The  worst  that 
could  happen  would  be  better  than  this 
haunting,  harrassing  dread. 

Jiuxiness  done. — Debate  on  the  Address. 

Friday.  —  Hardly  anything  been  seen 
since  Session  opened  of  JOHN  o'  GORST, 
timp-hono'trod  Educationalist.  Has,  I  am 
told,  though  I  haven't  seen  him,  looked  in 
for  a  few  moments.  Certainly  has  not 
shown  ungovornable  disposition  to  comfort 
bv  his  commnnionship  his  colleagues  on 
Treasury  Benfh. 

Fresh  effort  bping  made  bv  Government 
to  pass  Education  Bill.  Reasonable  to 
suppose  that  the  Education  Minister 
would,  as  last  year,  have  charge  of  it. 


"  Instead  of  which,"  PRINCE  ARTHUR  takes 
it  in  hand,  and  JOHN  o'  GORST  has  no 
more  to  do  than  if  he  were  a  Peer. 

"  Have  you  any  idea  where  GORST  is  ?  " 
I  asked  PRINCE  ARTHTTR,  meeting  him  in 
the  corridor  just  now. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  with  a  smile  childlike 
and  more  than  usually  bland.  "I  fancy 
he  's  at  home,  drawing  up  amendments  to 
my  Education  Bill." 

This  was  early  in  sitting.  Later  the 
childlike  smile  was  chased  away,  scorched 
under  the  Jove-like  frown.  The  summer 
sky  swept  by  angry  blast.  Never  saw 
PRINCE  ARTHUR  in  such  tantrums ;  and  it 
was  all  HENRY  HOWORTH. 

Who  but  must  laugh  if  such  a  man  there  be ; 
Who  would  not  weep  if  Atticus  were  he  ? 

Yes,  it  was  ATTICUS  of  Printing  House 
Square — ATTICUS,  at  whose  feet  the  na- 
tions are  wont  to  sit  when  he  is  pleased  to 
instruct  them  in  the  correspondence  co- 
lumns of  the  Times;  ATTICUS,  confounded 
by  the  certainly  singular  coincidence  of 
serious  indisposition  amongst  dynamitards 
closely  corresponding  with  access  of  Con- 
servatives to  office  and  introduction  of 
Irish  Land  Bill,  a  sudden  epidemic  that 
made  their  release  by  HOME  SECRETARY 
imperative. 

ATTICUS  was  as  philosophical  in  his  re- 
flections, as  courteous  in  his  speech,  as 
benevolent  in  his  bearing  as  his  prototype 
ADDISON.  Effect  on  PRINCE  ARTHUR  all 
the  more  vitriolic.  It  was  a  fine  display  of 
fiery  indignation  ;  splendid  outburst  of  de- 
clamation. But,  as  SARK  says,  it  really 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  gravamen  of 
HENRY  HOWORTH'S  charge. 

Btmncss  done. — Close  of  first  week  on 
the  Address. 


CURIOUS  FACT.  —  The  person  best  ac- 
quainted with  the  power  of  water  is  a  fire- 
man. 


ILLUMINATION    NOT    POPULAR    IN    GER- 
MANY.— Tausch  light. 


THE  VERY  LAST  OF  THE  CHANNEL  TUNNEL. 

A  ROMANCE  OF  THE  FUTURE. 

THE  tempest  was  at  its  worst.  The 
waves  ran  mountains  high,  and  the  wind 
shrieked  through  the  rigging.  The 
Premier  was  prostrate  in  his  state  cabin. 
But,  in  spite  of  all  this,  a  mysterious 
stranger  stood  beside  him  holding  a  docu- 
ment for  which  he  requested  his  signature. 

"  Never,"  murmured  the  minister,  feebly. 
"  Never  I  * 

"  But  see,  the  weather  gets  more  terrible 
with  every  moment.  Sign  this,  and  I  will 
warrant  that  you  will  never  again  have  so 
sad  an  experience." 

"I  will  not  sign,"  continued  the  Pre- 
mier, feebly.  "  Do  you  not  observe  that  I 
have  not  strength  to  do  so." 

"  But  I  will  guide  your  fingers,"  said  the 
tempter,  eagerly ._  "Consider  the  great 
advantage  or  a  painless  journey.  Consider 
the  brilliant  advocacy  the  scheme  has  re- 
ceived at  the  hands  of  GLADSTONE,  COBDEN, 
and  many  others." 

"But  I  must  protect  my  country  from 
invasion."  gasped  out  the  suffering  states- 
man. I  must  be  worthy  of  my  race — 
my  reputation." 

At  this  moment  the  continually  stricken 
vessel  lurched,  which  caused  a  mournful 
moan  from  the  wretched  servant  of  the 
State. 

"  Sign  !  sign  !  sign  !  "  commanded  the  evil 
genius  once  more,  proffering  the  fatal  pen. 

"Spare  me!"  came  from  the  couch. 
"  Even  the  merciless  and  mercenary  ticket- 
collector,  seeing  my  hapless  condition,  has 
had  pity  upon  me." 

"  I  have  more  at  stake  than  the  ticket- 
collector,"  retorted  the  oppressor  ;  "  I  have 
the  future  of  the  peoples  of  England  and 
France  to  take  into  consideration.  I  have 
my  own  personal  prospects  to  advance." 

"  But  coal  has  been  discovered  in  the 
Channel."  argued  the  Premier,  in  a  feeble 
tone.  Even  should  the  tunnel  be  never 
constructed,  there  will  be  ample  fuel  to  be 
wrested  from  the  ocean.  This  in  itself 
will  make  the  shareholders  wealthy." 

But  the  tempter  was  obdurate.  He 
again  pressed  the  pen  upon  the  stricken 
one. 

"  Here  you  have  the  pen  between  your 
fingers.  Sign ! " 

The  request  came  too  late — the  states- 
man had  fainted ! 

*  *  *  * 

"  An  excellent  likeness !  "  exclaimed  the 
Mayor  of  Dover,  as  he  removed  the  cover- 
ing from  the  statue,  two  years  later.  "  He 
never  got  over  that  passage — he  sacrificed 
his  life  to  his  duty." 

And,  amidst  every  mark  of  respect,  a 
new  monument  was  added  to  the  already 
teeming  attractions  of  the  Cinque  Ports. 
It  had  on  it  an  inscription  that  concluded 
with  the  words,  "  and  he  saved  his  country 
from  invasion  by  submitting  to  the  terrors 
of  the  Channel  Passage." 


Perverted  Proverb. 

"  A  FRIEND  in  need,  a  friend  indeed," 

No  doubt  sounds  very  fine. 
A  friend  in  need  a  friend  indeed ! 

No  friend  is  he  of  mine. 

THE  CYNIC. 

OUR  own  Idiot  declares  that,  a  propos 
of  auto-cars,  he  cannot  make  another  jeu 
de  mot  or  pun. 

NOTE  BY  A  HARROW  BOY. — Masters  who 
are  always  down  on  cribs  invariably  pro- 
vide the  hardest  beds  for  their  boarders. 


FEBRUARY  6,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


61 


LETTING    OFF    STEAM. 

Nephew.  "'ULLO,  UNCLE,  HOW 's  THE  GOUT  ?" 

Uncle.    "  How  's  THE  GOUT  !   CONFOUND   YOU  !      WHAT  's  THAT 

INFERNAL  THING   ROUND  YOUR  NKCK?" 

Ifephcw.    "ER — ER — ONLY  MY   COLLAR,    SlR,    I   BELIEVE." 

Uiifie.  "BAH!    Y'LOOK  LIKE  A  DONKEY  LOOKING  OVER  A  WHITE- 
WASHED WALL  ! " 


JEALOUSY  ON  THE  WING. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  have  read  with  much  interest  in  the 
papers  that  Lord  MALCOLM  of  Poltalloch  has  introduced  the 
starling  on  to  his  estates  in  Jamaica  in  order  to  repair  the  ravages 
of  the  mongoose.  But  what  has  the  latter  ravaged?  Surely 
not  the  great  Argyll  chieftain  ?  I  would  back  him  against  all  the 
mongeese,  aye  !  and  all  the  mongoslings,  too,  in  the  world.  I  know 
the  mongoose  well,  and  SO;  possibly,  do  you.  He  is  a  being  unfitted 
to  be  trusted  alone,  especially  in  Jamaica,  where  rum  is  grown  sc 
freely.  Evidently,  however,  he  has  misconducted  himself,  or  Lore 
MALCOLM  would  not  have  sent  for  the  starling.  But  why  the  star- 
ling? I  never  heard  before  that  he  was  good  at  repairs.  The 
tailor-bird  I  could  understand,  but  not  such  a  Pecksniffian  biped 
as  the  starling.  If  Lord  MALCOLM  has  been  ravaged  he  could 
surely  have  applied  to  a  neighbouring  beak  or  to 

Yours  truly,  SEPTIMUS  SPARROW. 


Of  a  Gallant  Marksman. 

[Sir  HOWARD  VINCENT,  M.P.,  last  week  failed  to  induce  the  House  o 
Commons  to  pass  a  measure  amending  his  own  Merchandise  Marks  Act.] 

SIR  HOWARD'S  game  it 's  easy  quite  to  see, — 
Though  to  the  House  it 's  just  the  host  of  larks. 

If  Man  of  Mark  Sir  HOWARD  cannot  be, 
At  least  he  'd  like  to  be  a  Man  of  Marks. 


At  Bournemouth. 

Irate  Ratepayer  (to  Municipal  Councillor).  What's  the  good 
of  a  Winter  Garden  here,  Sir  ? 

Municipal  Councillor.  Only  by  way  of  contrast.  To  show 
that  we  have  no  winter.  [Exit  Irate  Ratepayer,  puzzled. 


A  SONG  OF  DETECTION. 

(Adapted  to  the  latest  Literary  Methods.) 

[  'M  the  latter-day  prince  of  detectives,  a  wort  of  lieutenant  to  Fate ; 
[  can  track  out  a  crime  or  detect  a  faux  pat,  or  unravel  a  plot 

while  you  wait, 
[f  a  father  gets  lost,  or  a  wife  disappears,  if  the  heir  to  a  will  is 

mislaid, 

[  produce  him  at  once,  and  dispatch  him  by  rail  with  the  carriage 
correctly  prepaid. 

No  amount  of  disguise 
Is  too  great  for  my  eyes ; 
My. mind  never  falters  or  dozes, 
Though  they  add  to  their  chests 
By  inflating  their  vests, 
Or  construct  a  new  bridge  to  their  noses. 
But  I  'in  always  precisely  at  hand  with  a  clue, 
And  my  price  is — but  there,  I  can  leave  it  to  you. 

If  a  statesman  with  orchid  and  eye-glass  goes  out  for  his  five- 
o'clock  tea, 
He  may  think  himself  wrapped  in  an  ample  disguise,  but  he 

can't  get  the  better  of  me. 

I  am  off  on  his  heels  in  a  moment,  and  into  my  note-book  he  goes 
As  a  fighter  of  grit  who  is  like  Mr.  PITT,  though  he  hasn't  the 
gout  in  his  toes. 

Down  he  goes  in  my  notes 
With  his  talent  for  votes, 
And  his  style  which  is  dapper  and  dressy, 
With  a  hint  at  the  fall 
That  he  got  from  OOM  PAUL, 
And  the  faithful  devotion  of  JESSE. 
And  his  name,  which  is  somehow  connected  with  screw, 
Is — you  know  it,  of  course,  so  I  '11  leave  it  to  you. 

Last  week  I  detected  a  coster,  at  least  he  was  rigged  up  as  such. 
With  a  can-full  of  naptha  to  light  up  his  cart  and  someone  to  act 

as  his  Dutch : 
His  goods  were  the  whelk  that  you  swallow  alive  and  the  shrimp 

you  devour  when  he  's  dead, 

And  a  cap  fashioned  whole  from  the  skin  of  a  mole  adorned  and 
protected  his  head. 

But  I  knew  him  at  once, 
Since  I  wasn't  a  dunce ; 
In  rhymes  he  was  really  a  trader ; 
For  he  dropped  on  the  road 
Half  a  sonnet,  an  ode, 
And  a  ballad  addressed  to  a  raider. 

With  some  cantos  of  blank  that  I  failed  to  read  through  — 
.  If  you  're  anxious  to  guess  him  begin  wifh  A.U. 

When  the  criminal  class  is  quiescent,  the  blue-coated  constable 

comes 
To  his  beat  with  his  helmet  and  truncheon,  and  there  he  just 

twiddles  his  thumbs. 

Oh,  it 's  then  that,  to  tickle  the  popular  taste,  and  that  without 
thinking  of  pelf, 

a  fraction  of  time  I  invent  a  new  crime,  and  commit  and 
detect  it  myself. 

For  a  plot  of  my  own 
I  can  follow  alone, 
Whether  others  adopt  or  eschew  it ; 
And  it  adds  to  your  fun, 
If  you  want  a  thing  done, 
To  go  out  by  yourself  and  to  do  it. 
Of  the  sleuth-hounds  of  crime  I  have  met  one  or  two, 
But  the  name  of  the  beet — well,  I  leave  it  to  you. 


In 


OCB  LATEST  COLONY  (IN  TOTTENHAM  COURT  ROAD). — In  the 
prospectus  of  a  New  Parisian  Hotel,  Sir  JOHN  HI.I-NDKI.L  M AIM.E. 
M.P.,  V.Q.F.  (or  Very  Good  Fellow),  is  described  as  "  Governor 
of  MAPLE  and  Company,  Limited."  Henceforth  we  shall  furnish 
on  the  higher  social  system. 

SEASONABLE  CHANGE  OF  NAME  (by  our  own  irrepressible  one, 
still  dodging). — Our  metalled  roads  during  the  frost  have  been 
called  (after  NANSBN'S  ice-ship)  Fram-ways. 

PRIVILEGED  PROVERBIAL  PERVEHTERS  OF  THB  TRUTH. — Sleep- 
ing dogs. 


VOL.  cxn. 


62  PUNCH,     OR    THE     LONDON     CHARIVARI.  [FEBRUARY  6,  1897 


3 
00 

LU 

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cc. 

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LU 

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FKBHUARY  6,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


63 


SUMMING    UP   THEIR    MERITS. 

Cyclist  (arguing  with  Frund  on  the  way  home  from  hunting).  "WELL,  ANYHOW,  OLD  CHAP,  MINK  CAN  oo  WHEN  IT'S  PUMPED  OUT,  AND 

THAT  '8  A   LOT   MORE  THAN  YOU  CAN  SAY   FOR  YOUB8  !      TA-TA  I  " 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Playgoer  visits  Ibsen  ami  inetts  u'ith  an  old 
acquaintance, 

LAST  night  I  went  to  see  a  play, 

A  drama  up-to-date, 
Wherein  a  woman  holds  the  sway 

With  love  and  rage  and  hate  : 
A  kind  of  nightmare  on  the  boards 

That  I  thought  very  coarse ; 
French    wit    played    not    on    laughing 

chords— 
'Twas  taken  from  the  Norse. 

I  do  not  like  these  dreadful  homes 

Of  dirty-linen  dreams, 
Where  Commonplace  is  writ  in  tomes 

And  ranted  out  in  reams ! 
Where  Nature  "s  painted  as  a  brute 

And  Mankind  as  a  sot, 
Where  Common  Decency  is  mute, 

Because  they  know  her  not ! 

Give  me  the  fables  of  my  youth. 

When  Virtue  reigned  supreme ! 
The  striving  after  what  is  truth, 

And  not  a  filthy  dream ! 
The  village  maiden  sore  distressed 

I  'd  rather  ga/e  on  far, 
Than  look  upon,  with  mind  oppressed, 

This  harmony  in  tar ! 

Long,  long  ago — ah  me,  how  long  ! — 

A  little  maid  I  knew, 
She  sang  a  little  plaintive  song, 

And  sang  to  very  few. 
'Twas  all  about  the  buds  in  Spring 

And  bells  that  sweetly  chime ; 
E'en  now  I  hear  that  ditty's  ring, 

The  while  my  heart  beats  time  ! 


A  tenth-rate  playhouse  was  the  scene, 

Where  sang  this  little  maid 
Of  how  she  welcomed  back  the  green 

In  Spring,  but  half  afraid 
Of  what  the  Summer  sun  might  bring, 

Or  Autumn's  ruddy  glow, 
She  yet  would  sing  the  Song  of  Spring 

E'en  'mid  the  Winter  snow ! 

I  loved — the  moral  of  that  song ! 

I  loved — its  trite  refrain  ! 
,1  loved — the  symphonies  all  wrong  ! 

I  loved — the  simple  strain  ! 
I  loved — the  singer  s  untrained  voice  ! 

I  loved— her  shake  untrue ! 
I  loved— the  darling  of  my  choice  ! 

I  loved—  the  girl  I  knew  ! 

And  through  the  blatant  farce  last  night 

That  song  I  seemed  to  hear, 
E'en  when  the  heroine's  weird  flight 

Made  ardent  pittites  cheer. 
E'en  when  she  went  at  last  to  rest, 

Dishonoured  and  undone, 
My  heart  kept  time  within  my  breast, 

Far  the  aitd  you  art  One  ! 


At  the   Fox-earths. 

Mr.  Charley  Pug  (to  Mrt.  Charley  Pug, 
on  the  fifth  day  of  the  frott).  Don't  you 
think,  my  dear,  we  might  go  and  look  at 
the  skating  on  Brittlesea  Mere  ?  It  would 
be  better  than  doing  nothing ! 


SUBURBAN  SENSE. — Mr.  GRANT  ALLEN 
says  that  "  Clapham  is  never  dumb."  But, 
lying  on  an  elevated  plain,  it  is,  alas !  deaf 
to  the  voice  of  the  hill-top  charmer.  Is  it 
this  fact  which  annoys  the  man  who  didn't  ? 


ADAM  AND  AN  APPLE. 

IN  the  charming  performance  of  A  s  You 
Like  It,  at  the  St.  James's  Theatre,  the 
banished  Duke  and  his  followers  appear  to 
live  on  a  diet  of  raw  apples.  It  is  doubt- 
less as  good  as  the  Grape  Cure,  the  Whey 
Cure,  or  any  other  cure.  But  when  Adam, 
a  man  of  eighty,  nearly  dead  from  ex- 
haustion, is  revived  with  a  large,  cold,  raw 
apple,  our  admiration  for  the  Apple  Cure 
is  vastly  increased.  And  when  this  aged 
and  almost  dying  man,  instead  of  having 
a  fit  or  falling  dead,  walks  and  talks  gaily, 
our  admiration  for  the  Apple  Cure  is  un- 
bounded. The  only  improvement  we  can 
suggest  is  that  Adam  should  sing  the  fol- 
lowing song  in  place  of  the  one  written  for 
Amiens: — 

Blow,  blow,  thou  winter  wind. 

Hang  me  if  I  shall  mind, 
I  've  tried  the  Apple  Cure ; 

And  after  eating  these 

I  care  not  if  it  freeze, 

All  cold  I  can  endure. 

Heigh-ho !  sing,  heigh-ho !  unto  the  green  apple, 
With  which  mv  digestion  can  gleefully  grapple. 

Then  lieigh-ho  the  apple 

Warm  as  graveyard  chapel ! 

Freeze,  freeze,  thou  bitter  sky, 

Thou  dost  not  bite  so  nigh 
As  does  the  Apple  Cure 

I  'd  eat  a  lump  of  ice, 

It  would  be  quite  as  nice, 

Though  not  perhaps  as  pure. 
Heigh-ho !  sing,  heigh-ho !  unto  the  green  apple, 
To  keep  us  all  out  of  the  grim  graveyard  chapel. 

With,  heigh-ho,  the  apple 

I  even  can  grapple. 

DESCRIPTION  OF  MR.  RHODES  BY  A 
LITTLE  ENOLANDER. — An  amalgamation 
of  high- ways  and  by-ways. 


64 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[FEBRUARY  6,   1897. 


SONGS    AND    THEIR    SINGERS.     No.   VII. 


OUR   BOOKING-OFFICE. 

AN  Assistant  writes :  — "  In  Leaves  in  the  Wind  (ELLIOT 
STOCK)  Mr.  A.  C.  DEANE  has  gathered  together  some  very  charm- 
ing and  very  clever  pieces  of  verse  that  have  appeared  in  various 
periodicals.  Light  verse  is  easy  and  delightful  to  read  just  in 
proportion  as  it  has  cost  its  producer  thought  and  labour.  The 
apparently  inevitable  words,  the  happy  turns  of  a  sentence,  the 
unforced  patness  of  the  rhymes— how  simple  the  whole  thing 
looks  when  done,  how  hard  it  is  to  do.  Now,  Mr.  DEANE'S 
technical  skill  is  very  great,  and  his  verses  ring  musically  and 

Eleasantly  without  a  single  jar  or  discord.     And  here  and  there 
e  strikes  a  deeper  note,  but  he  never  forces  it  unduly.     He  is 
to  be  heartily  congratulated  on  his  latest  little  volume." 

THE  BARON 

Hyndman  the  Hinderer. 
WHO  says  that  British  rule  is  India's  curse 

Must  be  indeed  a,  bigoted  and  blind  man. 
Saying  it  at  this  crisis  makes  it  worse. 
Let  each  man  close  his  mouth,  open  his  purse, 

And  "  dickens  take  the  hindmost " — or  the  Hyndman  ! 


THE  WHALE  FOR  THE  BULL. — We  understand  that  in  conse- 
quence of  recent  developments,  the  name  of  Boscombe  is  to  be 
changed  to  that  of  Belugachine. 

MADE  IN  GERMANT.— Much  of  our  "  British  Patriotism  "  of  the 
pinchbeck,  or  German-silver,  sort,  apparently. 


AUGUSTE  EN  ANGLETERRE. 

LONDON. 

DEAR  MISTER, — Ah,  quel  en-tete,  what  in  head  I  come  of  to 
write  I  London  1  I  have  ventured  to  make  you  part  of  my 
impressions  of  some  towns  of  province,  but  until  here  I  have  not 
spoken  of  London.  It  is  not  a  town,  it  is  a  department,  a 
country,  of  houses  I  But  in  fine,  in  preparing  my  guide,  je  dois 
aborder,  I  ought  to  board  this  great  subject.  I  go  to  do  it  by 
degrees  de  temps  en  temps,  of  time  in  time,  and  1  commence  at 
present  by  some  parts  of  the  City,  the  most  great  arrundixsemeiit 
of  London,  and  the  veritable  centre  of  the  commerce 'of  the 
world. 

As  me  the  most  part  of  the  voyagers  gain  the  City  in  going 
from  the  "Westend"  by  the  street  which  calls  herself  the 
Strand.  As  me  they  think  probably  to  the  great  town  and  to 
her  history  of  thousand  years.  They  come  to  see  the  magniii- 
cent  centre  of  commerce,  the  most  great  and  the  most  rich 
town  of  the  world,  the  proud  capital  of  the  britannic  Empire, 
the  Rome  of  the  nineteenth  century.  When  they  are  thus  im- 
pressioned  of  respect  and  of  admiration,  what  is  this  then  the 
first  monument  which  they  meet?  Is  it  a  statue  as  that  of 
BARTOLOMMKO  COLLEONI,  which  one  sole  Italian  town  erected 
four  hundred  years  before  the  epoch  of  the  universal  suffrage,  of 
the  national  education  and  of  the  official  schools  of  the  beautiful 
arts  ?  Is  it  a  statue  worthy  of  the  britannic  Empire,  thousand 
times  more  rich  than  the  ancient  Republic  of  Venise  ? 

At  the  entry  of  the  City,  in  face  the  Palace  of  Justice,  one 
searches,  one  regards,  one  leans  the  head  in  outside  of  the 
"handsome  cab."  What  is  this  that  this  is  that  that?  Cat 
Allans  done,  let  us  go  then!  Oh,  la,  la!  But,  say  then,  a 
monument  to  make  to  die  of  to  laugh  I  Planted  there,  absolutely  at 
the  middle  of  the  street,  a  monument  of  the  most  ridicules,  of 
the  most  divertings  !  In  regarding  this  droll  of  dragon,  who  would 
can  to  think  of  the  dignity  of  London?  The  most  serious  of 
the  greek  philosophers,  who  knew  themselves  without  doubt  in 
sculpture,  of  which  they  were  surrounded  of  so  beautiful  pieces, 
would  have  burst  of  to  laugh.  The  most  silent  of  the  Red 
Skins,  men  still  more  solemn,  and  ignoring  absolutely  the  sculp- 
ture, would  laugh  a  gorge  deployee.  at  throat  unfolded.  The 
English  soles  are  enough  serious  and  enough  solemn  for  to  pass 
this  monument  without  to  show  the  least  little  smile. 

As  to  me,  each  time  that  I  see  him  I  laugh  again.  The  first 
time  I  believed  him  an  announce,  a  reclame,  of  some  "  panto- 
mime." But  nol  It  is  an  announce  of  the  beautiful  arts  of 
London,  of  the  good  taste  of  the  municipality.  It  is  the  unique 
pleasantery  of  the  solemn  Londonians.  At  some  steps  from  this 
monument,  Mister  Punch,  finds  himself  your  redaction,  your 
office  of  redactor  in  chief.  May  I  to  say  that  he  is  never  come 
from  there  any  pleasantery  so  enormously  droll  as  this  pleasantery 
in  bronze?  The  Londonians  are  calm  and  serious,  but  at  the 
foundation  they  must  to  be  one  can  not  more  laughers.  One 
would  have  beautiful — on  aurait  beau — to  search  at  Paris,  town 
so  gay,  a  statue  as  that ! 

And  of  more.  A  statue  of  your  great  and  good  QUEEN  should 
to  be  placed  on  a  pedestal  as  he  must,  comme  il  faut.  But  on 
the  hideous  base  beneath  this  dragon  of  pantomime,  in  a  posi- 
tion absolutely  indignant,  and  splashed  of  the  filthy  mud  of 
London,  find  themselves  two  miserable  statues  which  represent, 
one  has  told  me,  the  QTIEEN  and  the  Prince  of  WALES.  See 
there  the  respectuous  homage  of  the  City  of  London ! 

However,  Mister  Punch,  I  wish  not  only  to  blame,  I  venture 
also  to  suggest.  This  year  here  the  English  celebrate  the  long 
and  glorious  reign  of  Her  Majesty.  All  the  world  desires  to 
erect  some  monuments  worthy  of  a  sovereign  so  illustrious  and 
so  venerated.  The  municipality  of  London  could  do  better  than 
that,  in  destroying  rather  than  in  erecting.  It  would  be  the 
best  evidence  of  their  respect  towards  the  QUEEN  that  of  to  make 
to  disappear  this  frightful  monument  and  the  two  statues. 

As  to  the  dragon,  voila  a  beautiful  gift  for  your  friend  Li 
HUNG  CHANG.  Only,  as  he  is  aged,  and  as  he  laughs  never,  the 
view  of  a  dragon  so  infinitely  more  hideous  than  the  most 
frightful  dragon  of  China  would  could  to  kill  him  of  horror.  He 
would  value  better,  perhaps,  to  sell  this  cauchemar  en  bronze  to 
the  Theatre  of  Drurylane.  Agree,  &c.,  AUGUSTE. 


Two  Ways  of  Looking  at  it. 

"  I  NEVER,"  said  the  agrarian  professor,  "  look  upon  a  corn- 
field without  thinking  of  the  boundless  beneficence  of  nature  in 
the  great  bread  question." 

"  Nor  I."  chimed  in  the  MAOTAVISH,  "  on  an  acre  o'  barley 
but  that  I  joost  contemplate  the  workings  o'  Providence  in  the 
matter  of  whuskey." 


FEBKUAKY  6,  lb97.J 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


65 


AMERICA  DAY  BY  DAY. 

VERY    INTERESTING   TO    LONDONERS.) 

(By  Our  Special  Fldneur.) 

New  York,  January  SJG. — There  was  a  snowstorm  here  last 
Ni^lit ,  which  .-lii'd  naliv  concealed  the  up  and  down  paving  of 
Uroaaway,  but  was  highly  appreciated  by  some  of  the  younger 
members  of  the  Upper  Four  Hundred,  who  indulged  in  a  game 
of  snow-balls  just  as  the  visitors  were  leaving  the  Metropolitan 
Opera  House.  The  weather  did  not,  however,  interfere  with  the 
Spoof-Hop  given  by  Mrs.  General  SPILINS  (wife  of  the  Hon. 
General  SPILINS,  the  great  rag  and  bone  contractor),  and  the 
gathering  was  quite  one  of  the  successes  of  the  season.  Each 
guest  on  arriving  was  presented  with  a  diamond  toothpick,  which 
came  in  very  handy  after  the  supper  of  truffled  oysters,  stuffed 
terrapin,  and  canvas-back  ducks  on  toast,  the  whole  being 
washed  down  with  '84  champagne  in  Jereboams  only.  Among 
the  principal  belles  present  were  Miss  CHJNKIB  COCKLESNAPPBR 
(a  member  of  one  of  the  old  Knickerbocker  families),  a  delicate 
blonde  with  gold  hair  and  teeth ;  Miss  WOOTSIB  WAMPUN,  the 
very  brunette  daughter  of  Commodore  WAMPUN,  President  of 
the  Brighton  Beach  Yacht  Club ;  Miss  HIBKKNIA  MACGRUDDERY, 
second  daughter  of  ex-Judge  MACGRUDDBRY,  Proprietor  of  the 
Krin-go-bragh  blend  of  whiskey ;  and  Mrs.  PINKUB-PORKUB,  the 
widow  of  the  eminent  Cincinnati  provision  merchant.  She  was 
formerly  the  wife  of  Senator  JUMBLES,  and,  when  divorced,  mar- 
ried Governor  HOUPI.A  of  St.  Louis  (Mo.),  whom  she  divorced 
in  order  to  espouse  Mr.  PINKUS-PORKUB.  Mrs.  SPILINB,  who 
wore  a  green  gauze  gown  trimmed  with  beaver  fur,  Valenciennes 
lace  and  rubies,  danced  the  cachuca  on  the  table  after  supper, 
and  Mr.  LBONIDAB  B.  SPROUT  (one  of  the  ancient  Pilgrim  Brus- 
sels-Sprouts) led  the  cotillon,  into  which  a  live  sucking-pig  and 
a  Virginian  'coon  were  introduced  with  most  humorous  effect. 
General  SPILINS  had  on  a  pair  of  boots  which  once  belonged  to 
Marshal  BLUCHER,  and  was  much  congratulated  on  their  acqui- 
sition. 

A  marriage  was  celebrated  this  morning  at  the  990th  Avenue 
Hotel  between  Mr.  JOSHUA  XERXES  GKAIIH,  of  Wall  Street 
(reputed  to  be  worth  eight  millions  of  dollars),  and  Mrs.  JANE 
JEMIMA  VANTOFF,  perhaps  better  known  at  the  Court  of  St. 
James's  as  Mrs.  L.  J.  CORKINOTON,  she  having  been  separated 
definitely  from  Mr.  CORKINOTON  last  September.  The  ceremony 
was  attended  by  the  elite  of  New  York  aristocracy,  and  Uie 
bride,  who  wore  a  gown  of  artificial  orange-blossoms  on  satin, 
and  a  sixteen-star  diamond  coronet,  was  given  away  by  Mr. 
NATHANIEL  ZRUS  CORKINOTON,  nephew  of  her  late  husband. 
The  wedding  breakfast  was  served  on  the  roof  of  the  Hotel  in  a 
glade  of  palm  trees  specially  imported  from  Africa,  and  known 
:is  the  Riviera  Retreat.  I  nave  never  seen  such  a  coruscation 
of  combined  loveliness  and  jewels  as  was  here  exhibited.  The 
happy  couple  left  in  the  evening  for  Mr.  GRABB'S  palace  in 
Florida  by  special  Pullman  train.  They  are  to  be  the  guesta 
next  season  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  DHUNNIBWASSAL,  at 
Skelpie  Castle,  in  Scotland. 

Things  theatrical  were  rather  dull  till  Mile.  TOUPICHON,  known 
as  the  Living  Top,  was  arrested  to-night  by  the  police  after  her 
exhibition  at  Clam's  Temple  of  Fame.  Her  performance  consists 
in  spinning  on  her  nose.  Judge  VAN  PUMPELBECK  held  the 
lively  artist  to  bail,  on  her  own  security,  in  five  thousand  dollars. 
The  event  has  created  great  excitement  in  fashionable  circles. 


CONFIDENCE  FOR  CONFIDENCE. 

IN  a  lecture  upon  the  Art  of  Interviewing,  delivered  before 
the  Society  of  Women  Journalists,  an  expert  suggested  that  an 
important  advantage  was  gained  by  the  interviewer  if  he  made 
a  favourable  first  impression  upon  the  interviewed.  This  seems 
highly  probable.  So  Mr.  Punch  sees  no  reason  why  he  should 
not  give  a  helping  hand  to  those  adopting  interviewing  as  a  pro- 
fession. To  the  young  personal  inquirer  he  says  by  all  means 
make  a  favourable  first  impression  upon  your  subject.  There  is 
a  right  way  and  a  wrong  way  to  do  it.  He  will  give  some 
examples. 

Supposing  that  the  youthful  interviewer  has  to  see  an  arch- 
bishop. He  gains  the  presence  chamber  and  finds  the  dignified 
ecclesiastic  waiting  to  receive  him.  Supposing  that  he  seizes 
the  cleric  by  the  hand,  and,  calling  him  "  Reverend  Sir,"  asks  ' 
his  opinion  upon  the  chances  of  the  winter  favourite  for  the 
Derby — why,  this  would  be  the  wrong  way  of  doing  it,  and 
very  likely  create  a  most  unfavourable  first  impression. 

But  supposing  that  instead  of  acting  as  described  the  young 
beginner  respectfully  bows  before  an  archdeacon,  calls  him  "arch- 
bishop," and  respectfully  invites  "  His  Grace's "  opinion  upon 
the  condition  of  the  Diocese.  Although  he  would  have  made  a 


BETWEEN    SCYLLA    AND    CHARYBDIS. 

Lady  Binks  (a  devoted  widow,  earnestly).   "On,  MR.  CRICHTON,   BE 

CAREFUL  HOW  YOU  HARRY!  SlR  PETER,  WHO,  AS  YOU  KNOW,  IliwK 
TO  THE  HIGHEST  POSITIONS,  USED  FREQUENTLY  Til  SAY,  THAT  MORE 
MEN  OWED  THEIR  SUCCESS  TO  THE  BEAUTY  AND  SOCIAL  CHARM  OF 
THEIR  WIVES,  THAN  TO  THEIR  OWN  ENERGY  AND  TALENTS." 

Mr.  Crichtan  (plunging  <mOu"nil  ni»i  bonum" principle).  " SURELY, 
LADY  BINKS,  NONB  COULD  SAY  THAT  OF  SIR  PETKR  ! " 


mistake  in  the  titles  of  his  subject  (for  which  the  archdeacon 
would  gently  chide  him),  still,  he  would  have  created  a  very 
favourable  impression. 

Lastly,  here  is  another  way.  Supposing  a  young  man  has  to 
interview  a  literary  lion,  who  can  dispose  of  his  work  at  so  many 
shillings  the  line  in  any  quantity.  Remembering  this,  the 
visitor,  instead  of  wasting  the  time  of  his  subject  with  idle  ques- 
tioning, might  thus  address  him  :  — "  My  good  Sir,  all  you  may 
tell  me  will  make  excellent  copy,  and  on  that  account,  as  only  a 
pen  stands  between  your  words  and  the  printer,  I  think  it  is 
only  just  that  you  should  derive  profit  from  your  own  brainwork." 
Probably  this  last  method  would  be  considered — by  authors,  at 
any  rate — the  best  of  the  three.  And,  perchance,  it  might  come 
about  that  the  interviewed  would  address  the  young  interviewer 
as  follows :  — "  My  good  friend,  as  you  have  still  your  way  to 
make  I  will  do  you  a  kind  turn.  You  have  been  frank  and  con- 
siderate, and  I  will  reward  you.  Here,  I  don't  want  to  deprive  you 
of  a  task  that  may  lead  to  further  advancement  in  your  career  as  a 
promising  journalist,  but  as  I  would  rather  that  there  should  be 
no  mistakes,  I  will  write  the  interview  myself!  If  it  is  too 
favourable,  or  the  reverse,  your  editor's  blue  pencil  will  know 
how  to  deal  with  it."  And  then,  with  a  hearty  shake  of  the 
hand,  Interviewing  Cox  and  Interviewed  Box  would  both  be 
satisfied. 

At  Bath. 

Wiffiing  (sympathetically).  Here  on  account  of  the  waters? 
Piffling.  No,  unhappily.     Here  on  account  of  the  whiskies. 


66 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[FEBRUARY  6,  1897. 


A    CHEERFUL    PROSPECT. 

Jones.  "I  SAY,  Miss  GOLIOHTLY,  IT'S  AWFULLY  GOOD   OF   YOU  TO  ACCOMPANY  ME,  YOU 

KNOW.      IF   I  FVE  TRIED  THIS   SONO  ONCE,  I  'VE   TRIED   IT  A  DOZEN   TIMES— AND  I'VE  ALWAYS 
BROKEN  DOWN  IN  THE   TniRI>    VSRSB  !  " 


A  SHEET-LIGHTNING  DESCENT. 

[On  the  burning  of  her  house  in  Grosvenor  Street, 
the  Dowager  Countess  DELAWAKH  knotted  two 
sheets  together,  and  safely  descended  from  the 
burning  building,  January  26.] 

WE  have  heard  of  great  pluck  in  disaster, 

Of  courage  in  dreadful  defeat, 
But  a  Countess  has  known, 
And  in  peril  has  shown, 
How  a  woman  can  yet  be  the  master 
Of  fearsome  retreat 

By  means  of  a  sheet— just  a  sheet ! 
All  praise  to  the  Countess— and  thanks  to 
the  sheet ! 


Toujours  la  Politesse. 

Mil.  SPA WK INS  has  placed  twenty  francs  en  plein 
on  No.  23  (his  own  age)  at  the  tables  of  Monte 
Carlo  Madame  la  Comtesse  de  VIEILLE- 
ORUCIIE  proceeds  to  rake  in  the  spoil  when 
the  coup  comes  off. 

Mr.  Spawkins.  Hi !  Madame  !  confound 
it  all !  That  was  my  Nap  ! 

Madame  la  Comteue.  Mills  pardons, 
Monsieur.  I  am  so  lirgne — blind.  Permit 
me  that  I  return  you  your  stake  ? 

[Bands  SPAWKINS  a  gold  piece,  and  vanishes 
before  the  Brilvn  has  recovered  from  the 
shock. 


TO  TOM. 

A  BRAVE  BOROUGH  BOARD-SCHOOL  BOY. 
(By  an  Elderly  but  Earnest  Admirer. ) 

["Oh,  he  is  a  good  boy  —  and  such  a  one  for 
readin' !  Hi  takes  his  Arithmetic  books  to  bed  with 
'»»»  /  That  were  his  only  fault — for  light  is  very 
costly." — Mrs.  fulleti,  on  her  grandson  "  Tom,"  a 
Board-School  Boy  in  the  Borough.  See  "  Studies 
in  Board  Schools,"  Daily  News.\ 

YES,  light  is  very  costly,  as  the  wisest  find, 

or  mostly, 
But  TOM  of  Lant  Street  Board  School, 

you  're  a  brick,  and  no  mistake  I 
A  great  GCETHB  well  might  glory  in  the 

'    hero  of  this  story. 
He  cried  for  "  light,  more  light  I  "    But 

TOMMY,  can  you  keep  awake 
With  arithmetic  in  bed,  Sir?     You  must 

have  a  steady  head,  Sir. 
And  an  eager  zeal  for  learning  that  beats 

ALEXANDEB  hollow. 
He    kept    himself    from    drowsing    by    a 


brazen  ball,  arousing 
Him  from  nodding  by  its  tumbling. 


An 


example  good  to  follow  I 
But  you've  bettered  itl     How  thorough, 
my  young  student  of  the  Borough, 
Must  be  your  love  of  knowledge,  when 

you  take  your  sums  to  bed. 
I   am   sure   multiplication  cannot   signify 

vexation 
To  a  boy  so  fond  of  book-lore  and  with 

such  a  wakeful  head. 
Why,  I  do  not  mind  admitting,  though  1 

know  that  study 's  fitting 
To  a  fellow  who  means  business,  and  in- 
tends to  make  his  way, 
That  the  Rule  of  Three  at  Night,  Sir.  would 

have  filled  me  with  affright,  Sir ; 
For  I  couldn't  always  fix  my  thoughts 

thereon,  TOM,  e'en  by  day! 
Young  TOM  PULLEN,  you  're  a  wonner,  and 

at  study  quite  a  stunner, 
And  I  wish  you  luck,  TOM  PULLEN,  and 

may  granny  never  stint 
The  extra  bit  of  candle  to  enable  you  to 

handle 
O'er  your  pillow  ciphering  problems, — 

they  're  not  all  "  as  plain  as  print," 
As  I  happen  to  remember;   though  I  did 

notj  in  December, 
Take  arithmetic  to  bed  with  me — 'twas 

mostly  SCOTT  or  DICKENS, 
Or  some  story  book  or  novel.     But  oh !  in 

a  Lant  Street  hovel, 
Where  the  sun  is  ne'er  too  bright,  TOM, 

and  the  night-mist  early  thickens, 
Though  the  board  school  is  a  boon,  TOM, 
and  I  trust  you'll  shine  there  soon, 
TOM, 
There  would  be  excuse  for  nodding  o'er 

your  lessons.     But  you  don't! 
Your  granny,  TOM,  has  said  it,  and  it 's 

vastly  to  your  credit, 
And  whoever  makes  a  mull  of  life,  dear 
TOM,  I'm  sure  you  won't! 


Lacteal  Veracity. 

(to  Mr.  Pails,  the  great  dairy- 
farmer}.  Bad  time  for  the  cows  during  this 
frost,  eh  ? 

Mr.  Pails.  Dreadful,  Sir.  You  wouldn't 
believe  how  the  ice  interferes  with  the  flow 
of  milk.  But  they  recognise  the  fact  in 
the  great  metropolis.  I  'm  sorry  to  say. 

\_And  so  does  Mr.  Pails. 

CON.  FOR  THAT  CONCERT. — What  is  the 
uso  of  an  "  Ottoman  "  that  cannot  be  "  sat 
upon,"  or  a  Porte  —  however  sublime  — 
which  cannot  be  "  shut  up  "  when  needful  ? 


PUNCH,    OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— KIBKUAKY  C,  1897 


AT   WESTMINSTER   HALL. 


1795. — 1897. 

OF  WARB>N  HASTINGS  (to  MB.  C-C-L  RH-D-S).  "/  SUCCEEDED,  AND  WAS  IMPEACHED  !     YOU  FAIL- 

AND  ARE   CALLED  AS  A  WITNESS!" 


FKURUARY  6,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


69 


A*li^-m  ni 

-  SMI/I   ,   '/-^ 

DRY    HUMOUR. 

"BE'N'T  YK  COMIN'  OVER  FOR  'in,  MISTKR  ? 


A  CALL  FROM  ARMS. 

GOOD  MASTER  PUNCH, — We  address  you, 
as  you  have  an  heraldic  disposition.  You 
have  not  two  supporters  to  your  arms  (un- 
less you  count  your  staff),  but  you  have 
one — a  faithful  one — in  doe  Toby.  And  on 
his  account  you  will  feel  for  us — at  least, 
that  is  our  hope  and  impression. 

For  a  very  long  time  we  have  been 
accorded  comfortable  quarters — or,  we 
should  say,  quarterings — in  the  Royal 
Arms.  Wo  do  not  allude  to  a  hostelry  of 
that  title,  but  in  the  Imperial  Emblazon- 
ment. We  do  no  harm,  although  there  is 
some  slight  provocation  to  cause  a  disturb- 
ance in  the  facts  that  the  Irish  harp  is  in 
the  next  lodging,  and  the  Scottish  lion  is 
rampant  on  the  floor — or  should  we  say 
field?  —  above  us.  And  our  calm  air  of 
peacefulness  is  all  the  more  praiseworthy 
as  three  others  of  our  race,  who  are  not 
one  whit  better  than  ourselves,  are  placed 
in  front  of  us,  leading  the  whole  heraldic 
procession.  Now  for  our  grievance.  Sud- 
denly some  gentleman,  dating  from  the 
Hcusu  of  Commons,  write*  to  the  daily 
papers,  and  asks  for  our  dismissal!  We 
are  to  be  turned  out  to  make  room  for 
some  double-headed  monster  representing 
India  and  the  Colonies !  The  misguided 
individual  who  thus  seeks  to  disturb  our 
comfort  proposes  that  the  monster  shall 
be  a  lion!  Adding  insult  to  injury  I  Why 
another  lion  ?  Surely  there  are  enough 


already.  Besides,  we  know  what 'a  full- 
sized  lion  is  like.  Look  at  the  Scottish 
lion.  Of  course,  we  must  not  speak  ill  of 
our  neighbours,  but  cannot  you  see  that  he 
is  playing  an  imaginary  pair  of  bagpipes  ? 
If  you  don't  hear  the  national  instrument, 
it  is  because  usually  our  flag  is  floating  too 
high  over  your  head  to  hear  anything. 
And  why  should  India  and  Australia  be 
represented  by  a  lion  P  India  has  made  the 
tiger  her  own,  and  Australia  the  kangaroo. 
Besides,  we  do  not  care  for  lions  in  too 
great  quantities.  Strictly,  between  our- 
selves, we  are  not  lions,  but  only 
leopards  1  No ;  if  the  Royal  Anns  must 
be  disturbed,  send  the  two-headed  mon- 
ster or  the  tiger  and  the  kangaroo  outside. 
Let  them  help  the  lion  and  the  unicorn  to 
support  our  dignity.  If  we  know  those 
two  quarrelsome  neighbours  at  all,  we 
fancy  they  will  make  short  work  of  them ! 
They  have  not  forgotten  the  days,  wje 
ween,  when  they  "  fought  for  the  crown  " 
— as  all  good  subjects  of  Her  Most  Gra- 
cious Majesty,  indeed,  should  and  truly 
would. 

One  last  reason  for  our  retention.  If 
we  three  lions  in  the  last  quarter  were 
turned  out,  the  other  three  lions  in  the 
first  would  mope  for  us.  And  all  six  of  us 
look  sufficiently  melancholy  as  it  is  I  So 
say  a  good  word  for  us,  and  earn  the  grati- 
tude of  Yours  sincerely, 

THE  THREB  LIONS  IN  THE 
FOURTH  QUARTERING. 

Herald's  College,  E.C. 


PLAINT  OF  AN  UNPROTECTED  FEMALE. 

(After  retuling  the  Debate  in  the  House  of  C'nm 
mans  on  air  H,  y  intent's  proposed  tlerchtm 
dine  Marks  Ac  Amendment  Hill.) 

Fraijnif  lit  from  tin  new  Comic  (and  Economic) 

Opera   '  Impatience. " 

Britii)i,  Trade  sings : — 

\\'H KN  I  first  put  that  trade  mark  on 

Foreign  goods  which  for  British   won  I. 

pass, 

I  said,  "  I  have  hit  on 
A  scheme  every  Briton 
Will  own  is  extremely  first-class. 
Foreign  goods  may  have  charms  for  the 

fair, 

But  this  mark  will  establish  a  scare. 
The  Merchandise  Act  is, 
When  put  into  practice, 
.     Quite  certain  home  trade  to  repair." 
A  fact  that  I  counted  upon, 
When  I  popped  "  Made  in  Germany 
on  I 
Chorus  of  t'urr.ign  Traders. 

By  a  funny  coincidence  few 
Could  ever  have  reckoned  upon, 

Th-»  same  thing  occurred  to  us.  too, 
When  you  first  put  that  Trade  Mark  on. 

I  said,  when  I  first  put  it  on, 
"  It  is  plain  to  the  veriest  dunce, 
Each  foreign  competitor 
Now  must  regret  it,  or 
Yield  to  its  glamour  at  once !  " 
But,  gracious  I  I  argued  in  haste  ; 
Foreign  goods,  when  cheap,  handsome 

and  chaste, 

The  buyer,  though  British 
(Most  selfishly  skittish). 
Found  still  very  much  to  his  taste. 
Which  I  never  counted  upon, 
When  I  first  dabbed  that  trade  mark 
on  I 

Chorus. 

By  a  curious  difference  you 

Could  hardly  have  counted  upon, 
We  took  quite  an  opposite  view, 
When  you  first  popped  that  trade  mark 
on  I 
[Foreign  Competitors  go  off  joyously. 

As  toon  as  alone,  British  Trade  changes  her 
manner  and  becomes  intensely  mournful. 
Am  I  alone, 

And  unobserved  ?    I  am  I 
Then  let  me  own 

The  trade  mark  is  a  sham ! 
VINCENT,  I  fear, 
Is  but  a  mere 

Veneer  I 

Ton  BOWLES'S  smile 
Is  but  a  wile 
Of  guile! 

E'en  JEMMY  LOWTHER 
Is  just  another. 
Oh,  bother! 
Let  me  confess ! 
'arliament's  use  of  foreign  pencils  frights 

me) 
'  Faber,    Bavaria  "t      RITCHIE'S   boldness 

blights  me! 
Who  cares  what  "  Made  in  Germany " 

means, 

If  gain  he  gleans? 
True    patriots    would    not    buy    Dutch 

cheese, 
Or  Japanese. 
But  all  that  HOWARD  VINCENT'S  Fair  Trade 

attitudes, 

And  patriot  platitudes, 
Of  true  "  Protection  "  seem  mere  affecta- 
tion. 

'  Protection "   only   will   protect  the   na- 
tion! 


70 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[FEBBUARY  6,  1897. 


EXCESS    LUGGAGt. 


Elderly  Lady  (been  out  shopjiiny,  laden  with  purchases  and  very  much  cmt  of  breath).  "  BUT  YOU  'A  vs  ROOM  FOR  ONE  INSIDE." 
Conductor.  "  ONE  INSIDE  's  ALL  VERY  WELL,  MISSIS,  BUT  WE  AIN'T  A  PANTHICKENIN  FURNITURE  REMOVAL  VAN  ! " 


THE  PLAY-WRECKER'S  VADE  MECUM. 

["  I  do  not  believe  in  '  organised  opposition '  on  the  first  night  of  a  new 
piece — the  interruption  comes  from  would-be  wits  in  the  pit  and  gallery." 

Article  in  a  Theatrical  Magazine.] 

Question.  With  what  end  in  view  do  you  accept  an  occupation 
that  appears — on  the  first  blush — to  be  neither  amiable  nor 
useful? 

Answer.  To  gratify  a  strong  desire  for  mischief  at  the  cost  of 
someone  else's  comfort,  convenience  and  profit. 

Q.  Then  you  do  not  attempt  to  laugh  a  play  off  the  boards 
merely  to  protect  the  interests  of  the  drama? 

A.  Certainly  not,  for  those  interests  are  in  far  safer  hands 
when  they  are  guarded  by  managers  who  have  their  cash,  and 
dramatic  critics  their  reputation  at  stake  in  performing  their 
duty  to  the  British  public. 

Q.  What  is  the  duty  of  a  manager  to  the  British  public  ? 

A.  To  select,  cast,  and  rehearse  a  play  in  such  a  manner  that 
those  who  attend  the  performance  shall  have  no  reason  to  regret 
the  money  spent  for  admission  to  the  auditorium. 

Q.  And  what  should  be  the  object  of  the  dramatic  critic  P 

A.  To  write  an  article  that  the  readers  of  the  paper  to  which 
he  is  accredited  shall  find  a  faithful  adviser  in  the  choice  of 
theatres  with  suitable  entertainments. 

Q.  Is  the  work  of  these  two  servants  of  the  public  a  pleasure  ? 

A.  That  is  a  matter  of  chance,  but  it  is  certainly  an  affair  of 
business. 

Q.  Then  your  action  as  a  play-wrecker  differs  in  one  impor- 
tant particular  from  the  duty  of  a  manager  and  a  professional 
critic? 

A.  Of  course  ;  as  my  object  is  merely  to  amuse  myself,  without 
counting  the  cost  to  the  community. 

Q.  Does  it  require  a  profound  knowledge  of  the  stage  to 
follow  your  calling  ? 

A.  Not  at  all ;  as  my  object  is  obtained  by  catching  up  some 


unimportant  line  in  the  dialogue  and  turning  it  to  account  by 
casting  it  into  ridicule . 

Q.  Will  you  give  an  illustration  of  your  meaning  ? 

A.  Suppose  that  someone  on  the  stage  has  to  say,  at  the 
commencement  of  the  last  act,  "  I  wish  that  this  were  over," 
then  it  would  be  my  cue  to  answer,  "  And  so  do  we." 

Q.  It  does  not  matter,  I  suppose,  whether  the  speech  on  the 
stage  was  appropriate  to  the  dramatic  situation  ? 

A.  Quite  so.  Whether  the  play  is  good  or  bad  the  retort  will 
be  equally  effective. 

Q.  I  see  j  then  the  omission  of  the  stage-manager  to  cut  out  a 
risky  line  in  an  excellent  play  gives  you  an  opportunity  to  en- 
danger the  fortunes  of  a  work  that  may  have  cost  years  of 
thought  and  thousands  of  hard-earned  money  ? 

A.  Very  likely;  but  that  is  the  fault  of  the  authorities  be- 
hind the  curtain. 

Q.  And  you  know  that  the  first  thoughtless  laugh  may  be 
followed  by  many  others  ? 

A.  So  I  have  observed ;  and,  consequently,  when  I  have  made 
the  first  step  in  wrecking  a  play  the  remainder  of  the  task  is 
delightfully  easy. 

Q.  I  suppose  you  have  not  considered  that  the  wreck  of  a  play 
entails  not  only  loss  upon  author  and  manager,  but  usually 
scores  of  breadwinners? 

A.  I  have  not  given  that  matter  much  thought ;  but  no  doubt 
if  actors,  actresses,  and  the  employes  behind  the  scenes  see  the 
shutters  up,  they  must  look  elsewhere  for  situations. 

Q.  And  what  benefit  do  you  derive  from  having  assisted  to 
cause  a  fiasco? 

A.  The  positive  pleasure  of  enjoying  a  cruel  laugh  and  the 
possible  advantage  of  being  considered  a  minor  wit  amongst  small 
circle  of  acquaintances. 

Q.  Then,  taking  everything  into  consideration,  and  giving  your 
reply  as  a  representative  of  a  fairly  good-natured  community  of 
Englishmen,  is  the  game  quite  worth  the  candle  ?  [No  answer. 


FEBRUARY  6,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


71 


A  SLIPPERY  SUBJECT. 

(Fragment  (found  floating)  from  Ihr,  Diary  of  a 
Bfffin  tier. ) 

'1'iiK  ice  will  bear.  Not  impossible  that 
before  these  lines  are  in  type  (if  they  aro 
ever  printed),  the  sun  will  have  broken 
out,  the  frost  have  disappeared,  and  nature 
will  be  smiling  in  cheerful  spring-brought 
sunshine.  But  for  the  moment — the  ice 
will  bear. 

My  doctor  tells  me  that  exercise  is 
everything  for  me.  Well,  as  I  weigh  well, 
or  rather  badly,  over  fifteen  stone,  I  re- 
quire things  on  a  large  scale.  My  horses 
should  be  elephants,  and  if  I  took  to  cy- 
cling, the  machine  would  have  to  be  par- 
ticularly strong  in  the  framework.  But 
this  is  not  a  question  of  horses  or  bikes. 
All  I  want  is  a  pair  of  skates — I  am  told 
Caledonians,  for  choice — and  there  I  am. 
But  there  is  a  certain  drawback  to  my  pro- 
gress. I  have  never  tried  skating.  Fact 
is,  that  whenever  there  was  any  ice  avail- 
able in  my  neighbourhood,  the  moment  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  put  on  skates,  there 
commenced  a  thaw.  So  I  have  never  had 
any  practice — to  speak  of.  Indeed,  had  I 
had  any,  there  would  have  been  a  good 
deal  to  speak  of  painfully.  But  away  with 
idle  regrets,  the  ice  will  bear. 

I  am  at  the  edge  of  the  frozen  water. 
My  skates  have  been  put  on  firmly,  and  I 
move  forward.  Come,  this  is  excellent. 
I  find  I  can  stand  on  the  blades.  But  not 
for  more  than  five  moments.  A  gust  of 
wind  catches  me,  and  I  move  feebly  for- 
ward. Then  my  right  leg  suddenly  goes 
one  way,  and  the  left  another.  Then  both 
heels  ascend  sharply,  and  down  I  come  on 
my  back.  First  fall  for— or  rather  on — 
the  ice.  I  get  up,  and  having  lost  my  bat, 
try  to  secure  it  with  the  assistance  of  my 
umbrella.  I  cannot  rise;  as  when  I  put  one 
foot  firmly  on  the  ice,  the  knee  of 
the  other  leg  topples  over,  and  I  find  my- 
self on  all  fours.  Howevej,  at  length  I 
secure  the  hat  and  replace  it  on  my  head. 
My  satisfaction  is  great,  especially  when  I 
remember  that  the  ice  will  bear. 

I  am  assisted  to  rise  by  two  kindly 
skaters  who  take  pity  on  my  forlorn  con- 
dition. I  find  that  I  can  walk  a  bit  by 
standing  on  the  sides  of  the  skates.  I  am 
told  that  this  is  the  wrong  way,  and  once 
more  put  firmly — well,  scarcely  firmly — on 
my  feet.  I  am  on  the  centre  of  the  pond. 
Or  rather,  I  am  a  little  nearer  one  bank 
than  the  other.  There  is  safety  in  that 
nearer  bank.  The  other  is  a  shaky  invest- 
ment. I  smile  at  the  amusing  thought — 
and  stumble.  This  is  no  time  for  frivolity. 
I  strike  out  nervously.  My  left  leg  be- 
haves better  than  I  could  possibly  have 
expected.  The  right  comes  up  to  the  left. 
Both  secure — as  yet.  Then  the  boisterous 
wind  again  makes  sport  of  me.  I  am  being 
bcrne  along  towards  a  placard  bearing  an 
inscription.  I  cannot  control  my  actions. 
I  have  but  one  comfort  left — the  ice  will 
bear.  .  .  .  No,  it  won't! 


At  Salt  Hill. 

(Fair  American  attends  lur  first.  Meet  of  the 
Queen's  Buck/annuls.) 

Fair     American    (after    surreying     tlie 
field).  Guess  we  could  match   Queen  VIC- 
TORIA'S friends  among  poppa's  employ-ees 
at  Chicago. 
[But,  somehma  or  other,  she  contrives  to  make  the. 

acquaintance  of  a  British  Nobleman  and  a 

Baronet. 


READY-MADE   COATS-(OF-ARMS) ;   OR,   GIVING   'EM    FITS! 


VISCOUNT  L-B-CH-RE  OF  TWICKENHAM. 

Arms  :  Quarterly ;  let,  spotted  before  a  beak  several  crafty  mendicants  exposed  proper ;  2nd,  inside  a 
Westminster  orle  a  british  lion  of  rectitude  dance  tte  on  a  charter  coin  pone*,  charged  with  little  games  sinister 
under  a  cloud  proper ;  3rd,  on  a  ground  party-coloured  of  revolt  a  primrose  of  nobility  barred  and  erased  ; 
4th,  in  a  pillory  an  heraldic  pigott  displayed  in  contumely ;  over  all,  on  an  escutcheon  the  family  coat  of 
Baron  Taunton.  Grist:  Issuaut  from  a  club  (National  Liberal),  a  hawk-eyed  lynx  rampant  in  his 
glory,  gorged  with  a  banquet  for  popularity.  Supporters :  Dexter,  a  classical  figure  representing  Little 
England  suitably  attired,  her  defences  somewhat  neglected  perhaps,  statant  on  the  pale  of  civilisation  ; 
sinister,  an  elector  of  northampton  proper.  Second  motto :  "  Britannia  needs  no  bulwark* — they  come 
too  expensive !  " 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT, 

EXTRACTED  FROM  THE  DIARY  or  TODY,  M.P. 

House  of  Oommont,  Monday,  January  25. 
— At  first  sight  there  is  nothing  about 
HENRY  HOWORTH  that  reminds  one  of  F al- 
staff.  Nor  has  WHITE  RIDLEY  quite  the 
figure  of  Prince  Hal.  Yet  to-night  he  fell 
quite  naturally  into  the  attitude  of  the 
light-hearted  Prince  on  a  famous  occasion. 

"Mark,"  said  Prince  Hal,  when  Falstaff 
had  made  an  end  of  the  detailed  narrative 
of  his  fight  with  the  men  in  buckram, 
"  Mark  now  how  plain  a  tale  shall  put  you  down." 

On  Friday  PRINCE  ARTHUR,  knowing  all 
the  facts,  burning  with  indignation  at 
aspersions  and  insinuations  which  painted 
WHITE  RIDLEY  a  black  conspirator,  flew 
at  the  astonished  HOWORTH,  banged  him 
about  the  head,  almost  literally  hustled 
him  off  premises.  PRINCE  ARTHUR  so 
violently  angry,  people  began  to  think 
there  was  something  in  the  charge. 

To-night  HOME  SECRETARY  appears  at 
table,  unruffled,  serene  in  the  snowy  white- 
ness of  his  innocence.  Did  not  even  turn 
aside  for  a  moment  to  rap  at  HOWORTH  or 
lament  over  JEMMT  LOWTHER'S  latest  lapse 
from  line  with  old  friends  and  colleagues 
on  Treasury  Bench.  It  had  been  said  that 
RIDLEY'S  release  of  the  dvnamitards  was 


an  encouragement  to  crimej  that  it  had 
been  accomplished  in  political  collusion 
with  the  Irish  Members.  HOME  SECRE- 
TARY simply  said  these  things  were  not, 
and  in  few  unadorned  sentences  substan- 
tiated his  denial.  Carried  entire  House 
with  him,  and  though  JEMMT  LOWTRER 
tipped  his  hat  further  back  over  his  broad 
brow,  and  smiled  inscrutably,  HOWORTH 
hastened  to  abandon  his  amendment. 

A  striking  triumph  this  of  force  of  moral 
character.  There  are,  as  SAHK  says,  two 
personages  for  whom  House  of  Commons 
has  unerring  scent.  One  is  a  humbug,  the 
other  an  honest  man. 

Business  done.—  Debate  on  Address. 

Tuesday.—  TIM  HEALY  wandering  about 
the  corridors  and  lobby  in  strangely  pen- 
sive mood.  Committee  Room  No.  15, 
birthplace  of  a  United  Irish  Party,  has 
been  once  more  the  scene  of  interchange 
of  fraternal  feeling.  Resolution  carried 
which  practically  expels  from  the  brother- 
hood TIM  and  those  faithful  to  him.  It  is 
not  this  thunderclap  that  clouds  his  manly 
brow,  that  dims  his  eyes  with  unwonted 
moisture,  and  causes  to  quiver  lips  that 
sternly  close  when  the  figure  of  JOHN- 
DILLON  crosses  his  path.  They  might  pass 
what  resolutions  they  pleased,  and  TIM'S 
stout  heart  would  beat  without  tremor  or 


72 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHAKIVAR1. 


[FEBRUARY  6,  1897. 


regret.  There  is  worse  than  that,  and 
TIM'S  voice  falters  as  he  tells  the  tale. 

"  After  they  passed  the  resolution,"  says 
he,  "  I  got  up  and  openly  declared  that  I 
defied  and  despised  its  provisions.  On  re- 
suming my  seat,  I  wrote  a  polite  request 
that  this  phrase  should  be  entered  on  the 
formal  minutes  of  the  proceedings,  and 
what  do  you  think?  They  refused  to  do  it." 

Thus  was  the  iron  driven  into  TIM'S  soul. 
In  a  free  country,  at  the  close  of  the  so- 
called  nineteenth  century,  gathered  within 
the  precincts  of  the  mother  of  Parlia- 
ments, the  chairman,  representing  a  ma- 
jority of  a  meeting,  actually  declines  at 
the  request  of  one  present  to  enter  on  the 
minutes  the  fact  that  the  gentleman  in  the 
body  of  the  room  "  defied  and  despised " 
conclusions  arrived  at  by  the  said  majo- 
rity 1  That  is  the  last  straw  breaking  the 
stalwart  back  upon  which  has  been  piled 
contumely  after  contumely.  It  was  not 
much  to  ask ;  a  few  scratches  of  the  pen 
would  have  done  it.  JOHN  DILLON,  in- 
ebriate in  the  strength  of  his  majority, 
stubbornly  refused.  So  the  die  was  cast, 
and  TIM,  perhaps  not  without  generous 
tears,  has  finally  severed  the  tie  that  bound 
him  to  his  old  associates.  Now  there  are 
not  two  Irish  Parties,  but  three  Irish 
Parties,  all  hating  each  other  for  the  love 
of  Ireland. 

"There's  the  Dillonites  and  the  Red- 
mondites  ;  what  will  your  Party  be  called  ?" 
I  asked  TIM. 

"  They  'd  better  call  us  the  Ishmaelites," 
he  said ;  "  I  warrant  we  '11  live  up  to  the 
part." 

Business  done. — Address  agreed  to. 

Wednesday. — The  House  laughed  noisily 
when  RITCHIE  jumped  up  just  now,  inter- 
cepted the  lead  pencil  JEMMY  LOWTHEB  was 
handing  back  to  HOWARD  VINCENT,  and 
put  it  in  his  pocket.  But  there  was  a 
he  How  ring  in  the  laughter.  There 
remains  an  uneasy  feeling  in  reviewing  the 
incident. 

It  arose  in  debate  on  Bill  to  amend 
Merchandise  Marks  Act.  Early  in  its 


Not  Sir  Alb-rt  E-ll-t,  but  Mr.  Bh-wn-ggree,  of 
Betlmal  Green,  walking  into  Sir  W.  Wedderburn, 
Naoroji  and  Co. 

course,  RITCHIE  lent  HOWARD  VINCENT  a 
lead  pencil.  (As  marking  the  happily  tem- 
porary, certainly  deplorable,  lapse  of 
morality  current,  it  may  be  mentioned 
that  HOWARD  VINCENT  forgot  to  return 
the  article.)  In  proof  of  the  invasion  of 
goods  made  in  Germany,  lead  pencils  were 
flashing  forth  in  all  directions.  Ever  was 


found  on  them  the  mark  of  the  Beast — 
"  Made  in  Bavaria." 

JEMMY  LOWTHER,  conscious  of  rectitude, 
fearless  in  his  Protectionist  principles, 
drew  a  pencil  from  his  poke,  and  (in  Par- 
liamentary language,  of  course)  offered  to 
bet  the  SPEAKER  two  to  one  that  it  was 
English  made.  Fortunately  for  him,  the 
bet  not  taken.  JEMMY,  examining  his  pro- 
perty, found  that  it  also  was  made  in  Ba- 
varia. In  gallant  attempt  to  cover  his 
confusion,  HOWARD  VINCENT  passed  to  him 
across  Gangway  another  pencil  bearing  the 
same  mark.  JEMMY,  having  ascertained 
this  fact,  was  handing  the  thing  back, 
when  up  jumped  President  of  the  Board 
of  Trade,  made  a  dash  at  the  pencil  as 
aforesaid,  and  pocketed  it. 

"  Then,"  said  Mr.  LOWTHER,  in  stern 
voice,  "  this  is  a  pencil  supplied  to  a 
Minister  of  the  Crown  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  RITCHIE,  trembling  under 
his  frown.  "I  got  it  in  the  library." 

"Well;"  said  the  judicial  JEMMY,  in- 
voluntarily passing  his  hand  over  his  head 
as  if  feeling  for  the  Black  Cap,  "it  is  a 
pencil  acquired  by  a  Minister  of  the  Crown, 
and  I  think  a  Minister  of  the  Crown  ought 
to  acquire  an  English-made  article." 

How  lovely  is  that  word  "  acquire " ! 
"'Convey'  the  wise  call  it."  "Acquire" 
is  the  way  of  putting  it  that  occurs  to  the 
judicial  mind  of  JEMMY  LOWTHER  when 
for  a  moment  a  shade  hangs  low  over  the 
moral  character  of  a  Minister  of  the 
Crown. 

Business  done.  • —  HOWARD  VINCENT'S 
Merchandise  Marks  Amendment  Bill  po- 
litely, but  firmly,  thrust  forth. 

Thursday.  — •  Throughout  occasional  tu- 
mult of  debate  to-night  on  Lord  PEN- 
RIIYN'S  quarrel  with  his  quarrymen,  there 
sat  on  front  bench  of  Peers'  Gallery  a  tall 
figure  with  face  inscrutably  masked, 
stonily  staring.  At  beginning  of  sit- 
ting, there  was  crowd  of  Peers.  None 
spoKe  to  the  Masked  Figure,  nor  It  to 
them.  It  took  Its  seat  at  question  time, 
and  with  brief  interval,  when  SPEAKER  re- 
tired, It  remained  till  eleven  o'clock,  when 
debate  closed. 

Nothing  that  passed  in  animated  scene 
below  brought  a  flicker  of  expression  to 
the  stony  face.  JONES  of  Arfon  set  forth 
case  of  quarrymen  in  speech  of  admirable 
tone,  delivered  with  modest  mien  that 
quickly  won  sympathy  of  House.  Lord 
PENRHYN'S  son  and  heir  stumbled  over 
monuments  of  manuscript  in  defence  ol 
his  noble  father.  BROMLEY-DAVENPORT  de- 
livered brilliantly  erratic  speech  on  same 
lines.  President  of  Board  of  Trade,  jeered 
at  from  below  Gangway,  where  the  young 
Tory  lions  were  conscious  of  approach  of 
feeding  time,  defended  action  of  his  de- 
partment. SQUIRE  OF  MALWOOD  solemnly 
improved  the  occasion.  PRINCE  ARTHUR, 
troubled  about  many  things,  clawed  vici- 
ously at  the  stately  figure  that  had  just  re- 
sumed its  seat  on  Front  Opposition  Bench. 

So  the  discussion  rolled  on,  sometimes 
monotonously  meandering,  oftener  tumb- 
ling down  turbulently  like  the  waters  at 
Lodore.  Always  the  figure  in  the  Peers' 
Gallery  sat  impassive,  stonily  staring. 

Quite  fascinated  me.  Asked  SARK  who 
It  was. 

"Lord  PBNRHYN,"  he  whispered. 

Business  done.  —  Lively  debate  on  the 
Penrhyn  Quarry  dispute. 

Friday. — Great  comfort  to  us  all  to  have 
Cap'en  TOMMY  BOWLES  constantly  moored 
alongside  Treasury  Bench.  His  presence 
inspires  feeling  of  confidence  in  any  emer- 


gency. Suppose  a  sudden  vacancy  either 
at  the  Treasury,  the  War  Office,  the  Ad- 
miralty, the  Board  of  Works — anywhere 
you  please.  There  's  the  CAP'EN  ready  nnd 


GETTING  A  SLATING. 

Lord  Penrhyn's  Attitude !    (A  recollection  of  the 
Peers'  Gallery  during  the  Bethesda  Debate.) 

willing  temporarily,  or  if  the  nation  in- 
sits,  permanently,  to  fill  up  vacancy. 

To-night  gave  fresh  assurance  in  new  di- 
rection. House  engaged  in  carrying.  South 
African  Committee ;  got  into  a  muddle  as 
to  whether  number  should  be  seventeen  or 
fifteen  ;  dilemma  intensified  by  discovery 
that  the  motion  as  it  stood  on  the  paper 
proposed  sixteen.  SAUNDERSON,  who  fears 
nothing,  grappled  with  difficulty  for  seve- 
ral moments.  At  last  gave  it  up  in  despair. 
When  House  believed  that,  somehow  or 
other,  it  had  been  settled,  TIM  HEALY 
brought  it  up  in  fresh  phase. 

All  eyes  turned  towards  SPEAKER. 
Right  hon.  gentleman  slowly  rose.  Before 
he  could  open  his  mouth,  the  CAP'EN  had 
tripped  his  anchor,  slewed  his  forearm — 
("  Four  arm  ?  "  growls  JOHNSTON  of  Bally- 
kilbeg,  "  why,  he  's  only  got  one  ") — run 
his  lee-scuppers  before  the  wind,  and  set- 
tled the  whole  matter. 

"That  is  what  I  was  about  to  say," 
meekly  observed  the  SPEAKER,  when  the 
CAP'EN  had  signalled  his  message. 

A  generous  but  unfortunate  admission. 
It  may  lead  to  the  question  being  some 
day  raised,  Why  not  save  the  salary  of  the 
SPEAKER,  entrusting  his  duties  to  the  care 
of  the  CAP'EN? 

Business  done. — South  African  Com- 
mittee appointed. 


Walking  Home  from  the  Pantomime. 

Little  Chris  (who  usually  goes  to  bed  very 
early).  Mamma,  have  all  the  angels  been 
to  Drury  Lane  to-night? 

Mamma.  No,  darling.     Why? 

Little  Chris  (pointing  to  the  stars). 
'Cause  they  've  kept  the  lamps  up  there 
lighted  so  late. 


FEBRUARY  13,  1897. J 


PUNCH,  UK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


7.3 


THE  FOURTEENTH  OF  FEBRUARY. 

Comely  Housemaid.   "  NONE  FOR  YOU,  Miss." 

Daughter  of  the  House.    "  BUT — WHY — WHO  ARK   ALL  THOSE  FOR, 
THEN?"  Comely  Housemaid.   "ME,  Miss!" 


AUGUSTE    EN  ANGLETERRK. 
LONDON. 

DEAR  MISTER, — In  continuing  my  researches  in  the  City,  after 
to  have  passed  the  dragon  of  pantomime  at  the  entry,  I  desire  to 
visit  the  Bank  of  England.  I  have  already  seen  the  exterior 
several  times.  He  is  not  beautiful ;  he  has  the  air  of  a  prison. 
Evidently  for  to  admire  the  Bank  of  England  he  must  to  visit 
the  interior. 

In  face  the  Bank  one  sees  the  palace  of  the  Lord  Maire.  It  is 
a  palace  enough  sad,  noir  el  morne,  and  absolutely  without  gar- 
den. One  time  I  have  asked  myself  how  the  Lord  Maire  and 
Madame  la  Lord  Mairense — how  says  one  her  title  ? — can  to  walk 
themselves.  It  is  impossible  in  the  streets  so  encumbered  of 
persons.  What  world !  What  noise  1  What  movement  1  I 
thought  that,  perhaps,  the  Lord  Maire  exercises  himself  to  make 
the  box  "  in  one  of  the  saloons.  But,  commt  fa,  as  that,  he 
would  respire  but  the  air  of  a  room.  For  an  English  he  must 
absolutely  to  exercise  himself  in  full  air.  In  passing  the  palace 
for  to  arrive  at  the  Bank  of  England,  I  ask  myself  again  that 
which  he  does. 

I  descend  from  the  "  handsome  cab,"  I  enter  the  court  of  the 
Bank,  and  suddenly  I  find  the  response  to  this  enigma.  See 
there  that  mister  so  respectable,  so  full  of  dignity,  dressed  in 
magnificent  robes  of  scarlet  and  of  gold,  and  carrying  on  the 
head  a  chapeau  a  citrnes,  a  hat  to  horns!  It  is  him  1  I  say  to 
myself,  "  Tiriix,  AUGUSTS  mon  cher,  tu  as  de  la  chance,  vaila  If 
Lord  Claire  qui  se  prombnf  en  grand?  irnue !  "  In  fine  I  com- 
prehend, by  blue !  The  Lord  Maire  has  not  of  garden.  There- 
fore he  is  obliged  of  to  walk  himself  in  the  court  of  the  Bank. 
C'est  dammagr,  it  is  damage  that  Madame  la  Lord  Mairesse  ac- 
companies him  not  to-day.  Eh  well,  I  have  seen  the  Lord 
Maire  1  He  has  the  figure  very  amiable,  the  beard  grey  and  a 
little  long,  and  he  has  at  the  least  six  feet  of  height.  I  per- 


ceive that  he  salutes  gravely  several  misters  who  enter.  It  is 
astonishing  that  they  return  his  salute  so  coldly.  Even  they 
lift  not  the  hat.  See  there  the  pride  of  the  great  financiers,  of 
the  high  bank,  in  the  City  1  They  are  equals  of  the  Lord  Maire. 
They  are  proud  as  the  Senators  of  Venise,  a«  the  Grands  of 
Spain. 

I  ought  to  say  that  I  rest  during  these  some  instants  a  little 
hidden  under  the  arch  of  entry.  Truly  I  am  suchly  astonished 
and  interested  that  1  think  not,  for  the  moment,  that  it  ia  im- 
polite that  of  to  regard  thus  the  most  great  man  of  Ixmdon.  I 
hope  that  he  has  not  perceived  me.  I  think  to  retire  my- 
self discreetly,  when  I  meet  the  benevolent  regard  of  the  Lord 
Maire.  I  lift  respectuously  my  hat  high  form.  Him  also  he 
lifte  the  hat,  and  then  he  asks  very  graciously  that  which  1 
desire.  Ah,  the  good  occasion !  I  respond  to  him,  "  Milord,  if 
that  can  himself  I  would  wish  well  to  visit  the  interior  of  the 
Bank."  He  says  that  for  that  a  stranger  must  be  presented  to 
the  directors  by  some  person  of  their  acquaintance,  but  that  I 
can  to  visit  the  court,  the  three  offices  around,  and  the  garden. 
The  garden!  Ah,  voila  enfin  It  jardin  du  Lord  Main  I  I 
thank  him  infinitely  of  his  gracious  amiability,  I  visit  the  droll 
of  garden,  absolutely  black,  with  two  melancholy  trees,  and  some 
shrubs  all  fletris,  and  then  I  go  to  search  a  mister  of  my  ac- 
quaintance, without  doubt  very  well  known  of  the  directors,  who 
will  have  perhaps  the  goodness  of  to  present  me. 

He  is  very  amiable,  and  of  a  charming  politeness.  Himself  he 
accompanies  me  to  the  Bank,  where  ne  shows  me  the  grand 
saloon  and  the  library.  This  last  ia  small,  and  resembles  a  little 
to  a  cellar.  _  Then  we  visjt  the  printery — imprimerie — the  cellars 
of  the  bullion,  the  "  weighing  machines,"  and  the  room  where 
the  gold  and  the  notes  of  bank  are  amassed.  Ah  heaven,  what 
richnesses  I  Enormously  of  gold !  1'artowl  we  are  received  by 
some  very  polite  misters,  who  show  to  me  all  these  things  with  a 
courtesy  of  which  I  am  extremely  recognising.  In  this  last  room 
they  show  to  me  a  packet  of  notes  of  bank,  representing  one 
million  of  pounds  sterling.  I  hold  him  for  an  instant.  It  is 
a  quite  little  packet,  which  one  could  send  by  the  "  Parcel  Post " 
for  four  pennies  and  half.  They  take  him  from  a  quite  little  cup- 
board, filled  of  notes  of  thousand  pounds ;  a  little  cupboard  of 
which  the  contents  represents  more  than  all  the  richnesses  of 
Johannesburg!  My  faith,  it  is  astonishing!  I  am  almost  boule- 
verse  by  the  idea  of  richnesses  so  enormous  I 

Then  we  quit  the  Bank.  In  traversing  the  court  we  encounter 
the  Lord  Maire.  who  salutes  my  friend,  but  this  last  makes  but 
a  little  sign  of  head,  a  nod.  "How,"  I  say  to  him,  "you  other 
Londonians  are  so  proud  that  you  return  not  even  the  salute  of 
your  Lord  Maire  P "  "  The  Lord  Maire,"  responds  my  friend, 
6  where  is  he  P  I  don't  see  him."  "  There,"  I  say,  "  in  robes  of 
gala,  he  has  saluted  you."  My  friend  fclnff  de  rire,  and  laughs 
so  much  that  he  can  not  to  respond  to  me.  In  fine  he  becomes 
more  calm,  and  then  he  says,  "  That 's  not  the  Lord  Maire,  that  "a 
the  porter  of  the  Bank." 

Oft  la  la!  Je  me  suit  f romp**.  Mais  quelle  Banque,  avec  «n 
coneierge  commt.  (a!  Agree,  Ac.,  AUGUSTS. 


"  WHY  RUIN  THE  GUARDS  ? " 

(Echoes  from  the  Service  Clubs.) 

From  "  The  Sag."  Because  somebody  must  go  to  Gib.  Be- 
cause why  should  the  Household  Brigade  be  better  off  than  the 
Line?  Because  favouritism  is  prejudicial  to  the  interests  of  the 
service.  Because  one  fellow  is  as  good  as  another  fellow,  and 
that  sort  of  thing.  Because  "  side  "  is  bad  form.  Because  the 
fuss  about  it  is  all  "jolly  rot." 

.From  "  The  Junior." — Because  after  all  it  is  not  so  bad  as  it 
seems.  Because  you  can  get  decent  hunting  round  the  Rock. 
Because  if  you  want  big  game  there  'a  plenty  of  it  over  the  way 
in  Africa.  Because  with  leave  and  luck  you  can  have,  now  and 
again,  a  successful  flutter  at  Monte  Carlo.  Because  what 's  the 
odds  so  long  as  you  are  happy. 

From  "708,  Pall  Mall.—  When  it  will  unsteady  the  men. 
When1  the  discipline  has  been  first-rate,  and  no  one  wants  to  send 
them  to  Bermuda.  When  there  are  no  facilities  for  manoeuvring 
and  musketry  at  Gib.  When  the  Household  Brigade  is  the  pride 
of  London  and  Windsor.  When  the  Birthday  Parade  is  about 
the  best  function  of  the  season.  When  the  seven  battalions  are 
prepared  to  go  anywhere  at  a  moment's  notice,  barring  Gib. 
When  sentry-go  is  already  so  unpopular,  and  there  's  any  amount 
of  that  sort  of  thing  oil  the  Rock.  When  it  endangers  the 
safety  of  the  nation,  an<l — hut  this  is  quite  an  afterthought — 
unsettles  everybody's  domestic  arrangements. 

From  "The  Senior." — Because  the  Government  wouldn't  have 
dared  to  do  it,  Sir,  if  they  had  known  anyone  was  looking.  Be- 
cause the  Service  is  going  to  the  dogs — and  the  monkeys  .it  (Jib. 


vnr.    PYIT 


74 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[FEBRUARY  13,  1897. 


KKIWUAHY  13,  1897. ]j 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


75 


^V,,A^! 


NOLENS    VOLENS. 

Sportsman  (who  has  mounted  Friend).  "  THAT  'B  RIGHT,  JACK.     BANG  HIM  AT  IT  !    A  GOOD  FALL  OVER  TIMBER  WILL  SOBER  THE 

BRUTE  DOWN  ! " 


THE  ART  OF  REVIEWING. 

(See  the  "  Westminster  Gazette.") 

SOME  FURTHER  POINTS  OF  VIEW. 
THE  LOCAL  BUTI-ERMAN'S. 

I  REGRET  to  say  that  a  grate  amount  of  perfunctryness  prevales 
in  our  ighclass  Trade  jurnals  with  regard  to  the  practise  of 
Revewing.  Vast  quantitys  of  valuble  Litrature  never  gets  any 
reconition  at  all  at  the  ands  of  our  most  Esteemed  Critics — I 
refer  to  the  Gentlemen  as  conducts  the  Litrary  Colums  of  such 
Innential  organs  as  The  Aylesbury  Butterfly,  The  Margarine 
Makeweight,  and  The  Thames  Mudlark.  Praps  it  is  because  our 
most  Promising  Clients  in  the  Departme_nte  of  Fixion  and  Potry 
fale  to  submitt  their  hord'uoavres  for  notis  in  the  Proper  Quorter. 
Anyway,  I  regly  peroose  these  Intresting  Periodicals  evry  Sat- 
day  nite,  and  I  never  see  the  slitest  elusion  to  the  reelly  Impor- 
tant fechures  of  a  Book  namely  the  Quolity  and  Tecksture  of 
the  Paper  and  the  Natur  of  the  Ink  employd.  I  do  think  more 
atantion  shud  be  payd  to  these  Pints.  Many  and  many  a  edition 
would  go  off  like  ot  cakes  in  the  leading  Butter  Cercles  if  adequit 
mention  was  made  of  these  Particlars.  As  it  ifl,  it  is  ony  by  a 
long  corse  of  Tryal  and  repeted  Falures  that  I  ave  been  abel  to 
discuver  who  are  our  likelyest  young  novlists  and  Minor  Potes 
from  a  Perfessional  Pint  of  Vew.  I  ope  these  slite  ints  may 
bare  Frute,  and  awating  your  Further  Estemed  Orders, 

Yours  obedtly,  A.  CREMER. 

A  VICTIM'S. 

I  have  just  had  forwarded  me  (by  a  considerate  Press-Cutting 
Agency)  an  impertinent  and  wholly  undeserved  notice  in  the 
Literary  Tomahawk  of  the  masterpiece  to  which  I  have  devoted 
the  best  years  of  my  boyhood,  viz.,  a  little  volume  of  lyrics,  en- 
titled, Duckireed  Ditties,  which  all  my  acquaintances  in  Peckham 
describe  aa  the  most  characteristic  and  astonishing  thing  I  have 
ever  done.  I  understand  that  there  is  a  strike  at  Lord  PEN- 
RHYN'S  Slate  Quarries  (I  never  read  the  vulgar  daily  papers), 
and  I  would  suggest  that  all  reviewers  be  invited  forthwith  to 
fill  up  the  gaps  at  that  excellent  institution,  where  they  would 
doubtless  find  congenial  and  remunerative  employment. 


A  MM  HKK  SUFFERER'S. 

I  consider  I  have  been  treated  scandalously  by  the  reviewers, 
I  am  a  lady  novelist,  an  exponent  of  the  "  literature  of  the  lower 
self,"  and  my  living  depends  on  the  denunciatory  critiques  I 
get.  Well,  would  you  believe  it,  my  last  and  finest  analysis  of 
the  illicit  passions,  A  Human  Fungus,  has  never  had  a  single 
line  of  notice'  at  all.  It  is  bad  enough  to  be  praised  by  our  in- 
dolent fiction-tasters,  but  when  it  comes  to  beimg  silently  ignored, 
I  think  I  had  better  give  up  writing  altogether  and  take  to 
district- visit  ing. 

Miss  IDA  FALUTINS. 

Reviewers  t  There  are  no  such  persons  I  I  have  wiped  them 
out  of  existence.  There  were  individuals  who  dared  to  attribute 
want  of  taste,  lack  of  humour  and  bad  grammar  to  my  produc- 
tions, but  I  abolished  them  in  my  latest  masterpiece. 

UNCLEAN!   UNCLEAN! 
(A  Cry  from  St.  Pancras.) 

[The  St.  Pancrai  Vestry  have  decided  that  the  street*  of  that  paruh  are  in 
"  a  dirty  and  neglected  condition  on  the  Sabbath  day."] 
IF  "  cleanliness  be  next  to  godliness," 

The  City,  sure,  should  be  well-washed  on  Sunday ! 
But  need  immunity  from  muck  and  mess 

Be  even  narrowed  to  a  weekly  one  day  ? 
Are  sludge,  and  slime,  and  slop  the  secular  doom 

Of  the  great  Matebolge  we  call  London  ? 
Must  we  add  daily  dirt  to  nightly  gloom  ? 

Cleansing  of  streets  have  cities  more  than  one  done. 
Paris  is  clean,  why  not  St.  Pancras,  then  P 

And  every  other  parish  in  our  city  P 
We  have  no  lack  of  water,  brooms, — or  men 

Eager  for  any  labour,  more 's  the  pity  I 
Turn  all  hands  on  to  sweep  and  scrape  and  squirt 
Our  dreary,  weary  City  of  Dreadful  Dirt ! 


POLITICAL  SHIPPING  INTELLIGENCE.— By  the  crew  of  H.M.S. 
Premier,  Mr.  SAM.  WOODS,  M.P.,  is  looked  upon  as  a  Waltham- 
stowaway. 


76 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[FEBRUARY  13,  1897. 


SONGS    AND    THEIR    SINGERS.     No.   VIM. 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

THB  Theatrical  and  Musical  Recollections  of  Miss  EMILY  SOL- 
DENE  (Mrs.  POWELL)  will  interest  and  amuse  all  who  care 
anything  either  about  music-hall  matters  or  the  introduction 
of  Offenbachian  opera-bouffe  to  the  London  stage.  Opera 
bouffe  came  in  just  as  that  form  of  burlesque  in  one  act 
and  five  scenes,  which  had  succeeded  to  the  extravaganza  in 
scenes  and  acts,  was  moribund.  With  this  novelty  up  went 
the  price  of  production,  and  soon  afterwards  up  went  the  price 
of  seats  in  the  auditorium.  Genuine  opera-bouffe  at  its  best 
ceased  to  exist  with  OFFENBACH.  HERVE  and  others  were  only 
or  the  Offenbachian  school. 

The  charm  of  Miss  SOLDENE'S  narrative  is  her  simplicity  of  style. 
Like  the  heathen  Chinee,  she  is  "  childlike  and  bland."  She  is 
so  thoroughly  Bohemian,  telling  so  much,  and  yet  leaving  just  so 
much  more  to  be  understood  as  can  be  conveyed  in  a  wink  and 
a  nod,  expressed  by  a  sudden  hiatus  in  the  narrative.  The  Baron, 
who  never  had  the  pleasure  of  the  lady's  personal  acquaintance, 
but  who  remembers  her  as  Drogan  in  Genevieve  de  Brabant  at  the 
Philharmonic,  wonders  how  certain  exalted  and  generally  supe- 
rior personages,  nowadays  ("  at  their  time  o'  life,"  as  HERBEUT 
CAMPBELL  sings),  like  seeing  the  records  of  their  bygone  behind- 
the-scenes  daysp  The  pretty  little  ancedote  at  p.  137  is  one  of 
the  instances  of  the  Writer's  "  I-could-an'-if-I  would  "  style.  Un- 
less Miss  SOLDENE  were  present  on  the  occasion,  on  what  au- 
thority is  she  enabled  so  graphically  to  describe  the  attitude  and 
action  of  a  certain  exalted  personage  during  his  visit  to  the 
dressing-room  of  Mr.  DION  BOUCICATJLT  ?  However,  taken  as  a 
whole,  the  reminiscences  are  good  light  reading,  as  the  dry 
business  details  can  be  skipped,  and  if  Miss  SOLDENE  has  "  more 
where  these  came  from,"  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  her  pub- 
lishers will  be  "  Downey  "  enough  to  secure  her  next  book  for 
the  general  benefit. 


"Methinks,"  quoth  one  of  the  Baron's  Baronites,  "  this  is  the 
very  best  number  of  the  Yellow  Book  that  I  can  remember.  Miss 
ALINE  SZOLD'S  sketches  are  charming.  This  figure  of  '  Grief '  is 
positively  sobbing,  and  these  trees,  '  spectral  willows,  half- 
asleep,'  are  the  very  '  Children  of  the  Mist '  of  which  Miss 
ROSAMUND  WATSON  sings.  V  hatever  be  your  mood,  you  will 


DBWIE  s  waiter  will  move  you  to  merriment.  If  you  are  neither 
for  tears  wholly,  nor  for  laughter,  but  for  that  April  mood  when 
sunshine  and  rain  make  rainbows  in  the  sky,  turn  to  the  end 
of  the  volume  and  read  the  '  Prose  Fancies  of  Mr.  LB  GALLI- 
ENNE.  They  are  prosy  in  nothing  but  the  title.  There  are 
many  other  dainty  morseK"  remnrkpd  the  BaroHte,  "  for  Mine 
Host  of  the  Bodley  Head  has  spread  us  a  goodly  feast.  I  c,  nnot 
tell  you  the  flavour  of  every  dish  on  the  table,  but  I  can  at  least 
tell  you  where  to  dine."  THE  BAKON. 


FORTIFIED   LONDON. 
(By  a  Nervous  Prophet. ) 

GLAD  to  read  in  the,  papers  that  at  last  all  the  defences  of 
London  are  completed.  Feel  safe  now  from  foreign  invasion. 
KAISER,  KKUOER  &  Co.  are  such  untrustworthy  people.  What 
is  that  crowd  outside?  Why  there's  a  cannon  in  the  street  1 
Suppose  it  burst  p  A  cannon,  indeed  I  Such  a  thing  ought  only 
to  be  in  a  large  open  space.  Dean's  Yard,  for  instance.  But 
this  is  no  time  for  idle  jesting.  Must  go  at  once  to  Athenaeum, 
and  write  a  letter  to  the  Times. 

Leave  by  back  door  into  mews  to  avoid  cannon.  Shells  piled 
in  mews.  Get  into  Piccadilly.  Notice  on  railings  of  Green 
Park,  "  Beware  of  Explosive  Mines !  "  Retire  hastily  into  Cur- 
zon  Street  and  work  eastward  along  back  streets.  Reach 
passage  under  Devonshire  House  garden.  It  is  inscribed, 
*  Closed  for  Storage  of  Nitro-Glycerine."  Get  round  by  Berke- 
ley Square  into  Bond  Street.  Hope  no  projectiles  will  be  flying 
through  the  air.  Put  up  umbrella.  Good  idea,  walk  down 
Burlington  Arcade.  Paving  there  covered  with  boards.  Notice 
up  at  entrance,  "  Tread  lightly  to  avoid  exploding  Dynamite 
beneath."  Leave  hurriedly,  and  endeavour  to  get  into  Regent 
Street.  Find  narrow  pass  of  Vigo  Street  blocked  with  earth- 
work and  cannon.  Retreat  to  Bond  Street  and  get  into  Picca- 
dilly. Another  battery  of  artillery  commanding  tne  slope  of  St. 
James's  Street.  Observe  that  all  the  omnibuses  have  been  ar- 
ranged to  carry  one  Maxim  gun  outside.  Avoid  cannon,  go 
down  Bury  Street,  and  at  last  reach  Athenasum. 

Hurry  inside,  and  fall  over  heap  of  sandbags.  Get  up,  some- 
what shaken,  and  then  discover  five  bishops  and  a  judge  assisting 
in  the  removal  of  these  bags  to  the  roof.  One  of  them  hastily 
tells  me  that  the  club  is  being  made  quite  safe,  the  roof  being 
arranged  for  guns  and  the  wine-cellar  filled  with  barrels  of 
powder.  Bless  me,  how  horrible  1 

Get  home  somehow.  Must  arrange  to  live  in  the  peaceful 
republic  of  Andorra.  Monaco  no  good  ;  there  is  an  army  there. 


Change   for  a   Tenor. 

["  At  the  London  Bankruptcy  Court  the  failure  was  announced  of  JOHN 
SIMS  REEVES,  professional  vocalwt." — Daily  Graphic,  F.b.  2.] 

'Tis  true,  'tis  pity !     Poor  SIMS  REEVES  !     O  how 

Can  he  be  left  without  a  single  stiver  ? 
For  he  himself 's  a  "tenner."     Even  now 

Worth  two  good  notes,  and  yet — without  a  fiver  I 


Echo  Answers. 

Voice  (from  the  American  Senate).  What  shall  we  do  the  friends 

of  Peace  to  gratify  ? 

Echo  (from  all  mil-disposed  persons  everywhere).  Ratify! 

Voice.  What  to  her  cause  are  Anti-Arbitrators  ? 
Echo.  Traitors! 

Clear  as  Mud. 

AFTER  the  somewhat  "  too  previous  "  fashion  of  the  day,  it  is 
solemnly  and  ceremoniously  announced  that  "  Mr.  HENRY  JAMES 
has  finished  another  complete  story."  Now  that  is  what  we  call 
a  thoroughly  satisfactory — in  fact  a  "  finished  and  complete  " — 
statement.  If  the  story  were  said  to  be  finished  without  being 
complete,  or  even  complete  without  being  finished,  now,  there 
might  be  room  for  doubt  or  uncertainty.  But  since  it  is  both 
finished  and  complete,  what  can  the  public  want  more — save 
(perhaps)  the  story  itself  ? 


FKBHUARY  13,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


77 


B*riF*A'*  ^    *>,  n 

P , bUl ':::«.:       F O O P    ^Q 


BY    TRAM    TO    THE    PYRAMIDS. 

(And,  let  us  hope,  in  the  above  style.) 

["  The  Government  hat  granted  a  concession  to  the  Cairo  Tramway*  Company  to  make  a  line  to  the  Pyramids,  and  alio  to  fill  up  the  Khalig  Canal 
running  through  Cairr,  and  construct  a  line  over  it.  The  latter  scheme  will  be  a  great  sanitary  improvement,  as  it  will  remove  one  of  the  cause*  of 
malarial  fevers. " — Daily  Tdeyraph.]  ~- 


THE  NEW  HARDY  NORSEMAN. 

(Kansenesque  Version.) 

["  One  dear  old  lady  wrote  to  Sir  OBOKOB 
BAUKN-POWELL,  begging  him  to  come  to  tea  one 
day  this  week,  and  bring  l)r.  NAN»BN  with  him, 
4  and,'  she  added,  '  I  will  arrange  for  some  appro- 
priate people  to  meet  him.'  "—Daily  Neva.] 

THE  hardy  Norseman's  house  of  yore 

Was  on  the  foaming  wave ; 
He  would  have  deemed  "at  homes"  a 
bore 

Vikings  dared  not  to  brave, 
but  now,  though  gallant,  grim  and  game 

To  front  the  frozen  sea  ; 
He  finds  one  penalty  of  fame 

la — going  out  to  teal 
The  Norseman  is  more  valiant  now 

Thau  he  was  wont  to  be. 
A  "  Five  o'Clock  "  pales  not  his  brow, 

Muffins  ne'er  make  him  flee ! 
Old  scalds  might  hymn  old  heroes'  tame, 

But  when  did  Sagas  see 
The  Norseman  crown  a  noble  name 

By — going  out  to  tea? 
A  six-foot  HAROLD  FAIBHAIB  stout 

Is  he,  late  of  the  Fram. 
His  soft  blue  eyes  will  smile,  no  doubt, 

On  many  a  social  sham. 
To  burrow  in  a  wolf-skin  bag 

At  sixty  below  zero, 
Was  naught  to  him ;  but  will  he  nag 

When  made  a  Mayf air  hero  ? 
Never  depressed  by  loneliness 

In  the  long  Arctic  night, 
How  will  he  stand  the  social  stress 

Of  soiree,  crush,  tea-fight  P 
Will  lecturing  to  our  learned  nobs 

And  beauteous  dames,  all  soul, 
Be  ranked  by  him  as  tougher  jobs 

Than  struggling  toward  the  Pole  P 
NANSEN,  brave  boy,  may  you  enjoy 

Your  Babylonian  boom  ; 
And  never  when  swell  plaudits  cloy 

Regret  your  Arctic  gloom. 
Never,  half  sick  of  social  itir, 

And  fashionable  flam, 
Lone;  for  far  Arctic  frost  and  fur 

Aboard  your  ice-bound  From. 
Booms,     hardy     Norseman,     sometimes 
bore, 

And  lionising  irks. 
Yet  N ANNEX,  you  will  doubtless  score  ; 

And  won't  it  sell  your  works? 


Here's  health,  wealth,  fame,  O,  Norse- 
man game  I 

Love,  Luck,  and  £  s.  d.\ 
May  Leo  not  get  trim  and  tame, 

Through  too  much  toast  and  tea  ! 


"  TO  ARMS ! " 

DEAR  MB.  PUNCH, — I  know  that  you  are, 
among  countless  other  callings,  a  Man-at- 
Arms,  a  genial  Octopus  surrounding  all 
Humanity,  therefore  I  venture  to  ask 
this  profound  question :  What  do  you 
do  with  your  Arms,  when  you  go  to 
bed?  I  speak  as  a  sufferer,  and  one,  I  am 
sure,  representing  Millions  of  fellow-sym- 
pathisers. Let  me  illustrate  our  common 
case.  I  suppose  that  we  all  retire  to  our 

uch  to  go  to  sleep,  therefore,  let  me  sum- 
marise how  the  Arms  interfere  with  this 
laudable  intention,  as  illustrated  by  the 
following  table  (taking  "  You  "to  be 
"We"). 

1.  You  lie  on  your  back,  hands  crossed 
after  the  fashion  of  a  Crusader  on  a  tomb- 
stone.     Result.  —  Pins    and    needles    and 
change  of  position. 

2.  You  shift  over  to  the  right  side  ;  right 
arm  mutely  quiescent,  left  arm  indignantly 
dependent.     lti:<ult. — Back  position  again. 

3.  You  shift  over  to  the  left  side  :  left  arm 
mutely   quiescent,   right  arm  indignantly 
dependent.     Result.— Back  position  again. 

4.  In    opposition   to   this   armed  inter- 
ference with  your  rest  you  place  both  hands 
beneath    your     head.     Result.  —  Rush   of 
blood  to  the  head,  and  energetic  protest  of 
legs  and  feet. 

6.  You  turn  your  face  to  the  pillow. 
Result. — Suffocation  and  snoring.  Anns 
still  obdurate. 

6.  You  cross  your  arms  as  if  engaged  in 
a  hornpipe,  and  roll  about  like  a  water- 
logged   ship.     Result. — Concussion    of    el- 
bows with  ironwork  of  bedstead,  and  a  de- 
sire to  clasp  your  knees  or  pummel  the  wall. 

7.  Again  trying  the  back  position  you 
lay  your  arms  straight  down  by  your  sides. 
Result. — Dyspeptic  sleep  and  waking  night- 
mares. 

8.  Total  Result. — Nox,  et  prcfterea  nihil. 

In  this  precis  I  fancy  that  Lord  SALIS- 
BURY himself  would  not  disavow  my  capa- 
bility, but  d  quoi  ban  f  My  slumbers  would 
be  still  prevented  by  the  horrible  inter- 
ference of  those  members  which  are  as  ob- 


trusive and  as  useless  as  are  several  Na- 
tional representatives  at  Westminster.  If 
you  could  only  suggest  a  plan  for  discard- 
ing my  Arms — which  have  nothing  to  do 
with  Mr.  HARDINOB  GIFFARD'B  Armorial 
Club — I  should  be  nightly  obliged, 

Yours  in  fear  of  the  pillow-ry, 
REGINALD  RBTOBBX. 

Morpheus  Club,  W. 

[We  ran  only  suggest  that  our  Correspondent 
should  hang  his  arms  on  the  bed-post  before  putting 
on  his  pyjamas.  There  would  be  no  'arm  in  the 
experiment. — En.] 

Twin  Titans. 

(On  the  announced  amalgamation  of  the  two 
great  gun-making  firms  of  Armstrong  and 
Whit  worth.  By  a  Patriotic  Unionist.) 

ARM.STKONO  plus  WHITWORTH 
Must  be  a  good  bit  worth. 
WHITWOBTH  plus  ARMSTRONG  I 
There  does  seem  a  charm  strong 
In  such  combination 
Of  Titans !    Elation 
Through  old  England  runs, 
Seeing  two  such  great  guns 
United  at  length. 
Such  union  is  strength  I ! 

At  Southampton  West  (Ix>w  Tide). 

Master  Harry.  Is  this  the  place,  Daddy, 
where  King  CANUTE  ordered  the  sea  to  go 
back? 

Father  (deep  in  paper).  Yes — of  course. 

Matter  Harry  (pointing  to  acres  of  mud). 
And  look  how  well  it  has  obeyed  him  ever 


Just  Off— the   Bourse. 

Stockbroker  (to  Client,  who  ha«  bren  pretty 
well  loaded  with  certain  scrip).  Well,  it  just 
comes  to  this.  Are  you  prepared  to  go  the 
whole  hog  or  none  ? 

Client  (timidly).  I  think  I  'd  rather  go  the 


A  Scientific  Nursery  Definition. 

Little  Algy  Muffin.  What's  the  meaning 
of  bric-a-brac,  that  Mamma  was  talking 
about  to  Colonel  Crumpet  '• 

Little.  Chris  Crumpet.  Those  things  we 
mustn't  play  bricks  with,  a-fear  we'll 
break  them. 


78 


PUNCH,     OR     THE     LONDON     CHARIVARI.  [FEBRUARY  13,  1897. 


A    TERRIBLE    VENGEANCE. 

"WELL,  MR.  SOFTLBY,  DID  YOU  REVENGE  YOURSELF  ON  ALGY  SINCE  THAT  QUARREL  YOU 
HAD  WITH  HIM?" 

"YES,    INDEED.      I   ORDERED   MY   MAN    TO   BE  WUDE  TO   HIS   MAN   WHEN   HE    MEETS   HIM." 


ACADEMIC  DISCUSSION. 

(Extracted  from  a  Newspaper  of  a  future  date, 
when  our  own  Uiidergraduates  have  followed 
the  example  recently  set  them  at  the  Universi- 
ties of  Athens  and  Moscow.) 

[FROM  OUR  OWN  CORRESPONDENT.] 

Cambridge,  Monday. 

I  REGRET  to  say  that  an  incident  oc- 
curred in  one  of  the  Trinity  lecture-rooms 
this  morning,  which  is  likely  to  cause  a 
fresh  disturbance  here.  Professor  SAW- 
DUST, in  his  translation  of  a  passage  of 
THUOYDIDES,  pointed  out  that  the  standard 
of  courage  amongst  young  men  had  been 
greatly  lowered  since  the  days  of  ancient 


Greece.  The  class  unanimously  regarded 
these  strictures  as  a  deliberate  insult  to 
themselves,  and  they  at  once  knocked  the 
Professor  down,  and  left  the  room.  Subse- 
quently a  general  meeting  of  the  under- 
graduates was  held,  and  an  ultimatum  was 
despatched  to  the  master  of  the  college, 
demanding  a  full  apology  and  ten  barrels 
of  audit  ale  by  way  of  compensation.  The 
reply  of  the  master  has  not  been  received 
.  up  to  the  present,  but  if  it  be  unfavour- 
1  able,  an  outbreak  ef  hostilities  will  cer- 
tainly follow.  Machine-guns  already  are 
being  placed  in  those  windows  of  the  col- 
lege which  overlook  the  street. 

Later. 
No  answer  having  been  received,  war  has 


heen  declared.  Most  of  the  Dons  suc- 
ceeded in  making  their  escape  over  the 
river,  but  the  Senior  Dean,  the  Head- 
Porter,  and  a  couple  of  bedmakers  (who 
are  suspected  of  being  spies)  are  now  impri- 
soned in  the  Buttery.  The  college  is  in  a 
state  of  seige,  and  the  Senate  has  been  sit- 
ting for  several  hours  to  consider  the  situa- 
tion. Reinforcements  from  Clare  and  Mag- 
dalene are  said  to  he  coming  to  the  assist- 
ance of  Trinity ;  but  St.  John's  sides 
strongly  with  the  professor,  and  their  men 
have  announced  their  intention  of  taking 
Trinity  by  storm  to-morrow. 

Tuesday. 

Trinity  is  still  untaken.  One  or  two 
sorties  occurred  in  the  night,  and  seventy 
or  eighty  townsmen  were  shot,  hut  no 
fighting  of  any  real  importance  took  place. 
There  is  great  excitement  at  Newnham, 
where?  despite  the  prohibition  of  the  au- 
thorities, a  mass  meeting  of  students  was 
held,  which  passed  a  resolution  of  sym- 
pathy with  the  Trinity  rebels.  Many  ladies 
from  the  college  have  announced  their  in- 
tention of  nursing  the  wounded. 

Later. 

Fighting  became  general  this  afternoon, 
and  scenes  of  terrible  carnage  took  place. 
A  body  of  Indian  students,  in  native  un- 
dress, attempted  to  join  in  the  fray,  but 
were  quickly  dispersed  with  the  help  of  a 
fire-engine.  Mr.  OSCAR  BROWNING  super- 
intended a  skilful  attack  made  by  a  body  of 
King's  men  upon  Dr.  JACKSON  s  light  in- 
fantry. His  manoauvres,  I  am  informed, 
were  based  upon  a  scheme  communicated 
by  the  GERMAN  EMPEROR.  It  is  ru- 
moured that  a  strong  force  from  Oxford 
has  started  by  train  in  order  to  take  part 
in  the  rising. 


Hostilities  have  suddenly  come  to  an 
end.  Thanks  to  the  vigilance  of  the  he- 
siegers,  the  supplies  of  the  Trinity  garrison 
were  entirely  cut  off.  When  it  was  dis- 
covered this  morning  that  the  whole  stock 
of  marmalade  was  exhausted,  negotiations 
for  a  truce  were  at  once  begun.  Six  of 
their  leaders  met  six  Fellows  of  the  college 
in  conference  in  the  marketplace,  and, 
after  some  difficulty,  a  peace  honourable  to 
both  sides  was  signed.  Professor  SAWDUST 
is  to  lecture  no  more  for  three  years,  and 
the  undergraduates  approval  is  to  be  ob- 
tained for  the  appointment  of  his  succes- 
sor. A  first-class  in  the  Tripos  is  to  be 
awarded  to  all  the  men  of  Trinity  and 
their  allies  who  showed  conspicuous  valour 
during  the  recent  engagement.  On  the 
other  hand,  any  undergraduate  shooting  a 
Don  without  sufficient  cause  is  to  be  liable 
to  be  fined  by  the  Proctors,  and  the  pri- 
soners are  to  be  released  with  a  caution. 

The  conclusion  of  peace  has  caused  gene- 
ral rejoicing,  and  great  festivities  will  take 
place  to-night.  An  ox  will  be  roasted 
whole  in  the  great  court  of  Trinity,  and 
the  fountain  will  flow  with  Chateau  Lafitte. 


The    Henemy. 

[Egga,  the  riverside  stronghold  of  the  Foulaha, 
has  been  destroyed  as  a  precautionary  measure.] 

THE  Niger  Expedition  appears  to  be  pro- 
perly conducted.  The  proper  way  to  dis- 
perse the  "  Foulah  "  army  obviously  being 
to  destroy  their  "  Egga." 


FROM  OUR  OWN  IRREPRESSIBLE  JOKER 
(it  is  hoped  now  finally  incarcerated}. — 
Q.  What  is  the  cheapest  kind  of  a  yacht  ? 
A.  A  paper-cutter. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— FKBRUART  13,  1897. 


\  '  Xl\  • 


THE   ELEPHANTINE   MAJORITY. 

ARTH-H  B-LF-K  (M^asler  of  the  Westm^ter  CTrct«).  "HOPE  HE'S  NOT  GOING  TO  TURN  NASTY.    HE 'LL 

SPOIL  THE  WHOLE  SHOW." 


FEBRUARY  13,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


81 


/III 


HIS    LITTLE    DODGE. 


First  UuHling  Man  (having  observed  the  ticket  with  "  K"  on  it  in  his  friend's  htu).   "I.  DIDN'T 

KNOW   THAT  OLD  QBE  OF   YOURS  WAS   A   KlCKER.      HE   LOOKS  QUIET    KM  Hi;  II." 

Second  Hunting  Man.  "WELL,    HE  ISN'T   REALLY.      I  ONLY   WEAR  THE   'K'  TO   MAKE 
PEOPLE  GIVE  ME  MORE  ROOM  !" 


UNMUZZLED. 

(Page  from  a  Bad  Dog's  Diary.) 

WELL,  they  have  taken  it  off  at  last! 
Not  a  moment  too  soon.  However,  all  my 
practice  has  been  for  nothing.  In  a  few 
days,  I  am  sure  I  could  have  worked  my 
inouth  out,  and  then  my  friend  the 
butcher  boy  would  have  had  a  lively  time 
of  it.  I'll  teach  him  to  whistle  at  me! 
The  scoundrel !  But  I  said  a  time  would 
come  1  And  it  has  I 

Ah  I  there's  the  tabby  from  No.  23. 
I  rush  at  her.  She  waits  calmly  for  me, 
thinking  me  muzzled.  Unfortunately  she 
discovers  her  mistake  just  as  I  get  up  to 
her,  and  hurries  down  an  area.  Rude 
brute !  Swearing  at  the  L.  C.  C.  for  doing 
an  act  of  justice  and  mercy.  Well,  cats 
will  swear  at  anything.  Sorry  I  couldn't 
give  her  a  nip  for  the  sake  of  auld  lang 
syne.  Still,  not  nearly  such  good  sport  as 
the  butcher  boy.  He's  the  lad  for  my 
money.  I  '11  teach  him  to  make  grimaces  at 
me !  He  '11  be  a  great  deal  politer  now 
that  I  can  express  my  sentiments  in  the 
customary  manner.  Or  if  he  isn't,  1 11 
teach  him. 

The   postman!     Have   a   good   bark   at 


him.  Daren't  go  near  him,  as  I  know  his 
boots.  They  are  clumsy  things,  and  hurt 
awfully.  But  he  can't  do  anything  to  me 
if  I  keep  out  of  his  reach  and  bark.  He 's 
very  angry,  as  my  noise  stops  his  chat  with 
the  housemaid  who  is  doing  the  stops  at 
No.  34.  I  don't  care.  If  he  dawdles  much 
longer,  my  barking  will  attract  my  owner's 
attention.  And  then  he  will  write  to  the 
Postmaster-General,  or  the  papers,  or 
something.  So  for  his  own  sake,  he'd 
better  be  civil. 

Here  comes  a  policeman.  Wag  in y  tail. 
Not  that  I  like  him,  only  its  always  best 
to  be  conciliatory  to  the  powers  that  be. 

!  If  it  hadn't  been  for  my  coaxing  ways  I 
should  never  have  been  allowed  out  with- 
out my  muzzle.  My  owner  said  he  knew 

!  I  should  get  into  mischief.  Well,  well : 
I  've  never  known  him  to  tell  a  lie.  And 
that  reminds  me.  What  has  become  of  my 
friend  the  butcher  boy. 

The  postman  complains  of  me.  Police- 
man saya  he  can't  do  anything  until  I  bite. 
Of  course  not.  The  housemaid  (who  seems 
to  know  the  constable)  chimes  in.  They 
are  having  quite  a  row  about  it.  The  dis- 
cussion is  closed  by  MART  finishing  the 
steps  of  No.  34,  and  slamming  the  door. 
This  gives  me  an  opportunity  for  a  good 


sharp  bark.  The  policeman  look*  at  me, 
and  I  um  off. 

Clocks  strikes.  Surely  this  should  be  his 
time.  Yes,  there  he  goes  on  the  other 
side  of  the  road.  Look  round  stealthily. 
My  young  friend  is  whistling,  as  usual. 
I  '11  teach  him  to  whistle  I  He  gets  off  his 
cart-tricycle  and  prepares  to  take  out  the 
mutton  chops  and  round  of  beef  for  No. 

78 Bravo  I  And  I  have  Rot  a  bit  ot 

the  cloth  I  He  shouts.  I  run  for  my  lit'-. 
But  it  '§  no  good.  For  here  comes  the  po- 
liceman. Well,  what  if  I  did  bite  him. 
It 's  no  business  of  mine. 

The  policeman  seizes  me  by  the  collar. 
What 's  he  going  to  do  P  Oh,  I  see  1  Bless 
the  L.  0.  C.  They  are  always  so  thought- 
ful. The  constable  lets  me  go.  as  he  'a  got 
my  owner's  name  and  address! 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Philosophic  Bard  writes  to  hi*  not  too  juvenile 
Lady-love  an  the  subject  of  the  thaw,  which  she 
hat  bitterly  deplored  in  a  letter  to  him. 

THE  snow  has  gone,  the  frost  has  fled, 
And  you  regret  the  wintry  scene. 

Do  you  rejoice  in  things  half-dead, 
Or  love  the  tree  no  longer  green  ? 

Are  ice-blooms  on  the  window-pane 
Fairer  to  you  than  buds  in  Spring, 

And  must  an  Arctic  Summer  reign 
To  make  the  flowers  that  you  sing  ? 

Let  NANSEN  tell  of  mystic  spell 

That  led  him  to  the  cheerless  North. 
For  me  the  never-frozen  well 

Whence  Love  and  Laughter  bubble  forth  ! 
The  fount  that  in  a  sunny  land 

Knows  not  that  biting  bitter  breath, 
Nor  feels  the  unrelenting  hand 

Of  him  who  binds  the  sea  with  death. 

You  state  that  when  you  saw  the  snow 

Trickle  away  in  myriad  tears, 
You  wept,  the  while  you  did  not  know 

The  meaning  of  your  foolish  fears. 
You  say  you  thought — indeed  were  sure — 

You  loved  the  earth  so  fair  and  white, 
And  mourned  the  passing  of  the  pure 

Into  the  dismal  drip  of  night. 

I  quite  believe  this  morbid  craze 

Of  turning  Nature's  love  to  hate ; 
But  surely  on  this  day  of  daze 

You  had  a  bidding-call  to  skate 't 
I  say  "  a  day  of  daze  "  because 

Your  turn  of  mind  is  much  too  true ; 
You  only  list  to  Fashion's  laws. 

You  were  invited — /  wot  too. 
Yea  !  Lady  WRIMKEB  bade  me  come — 

You  didn't  know  this  little  fact — 
Indeed  she  wrote,  "Do  keep  it  '  mum,' 

And  look  on  with  your  well-known  tact. 
For  FLOKKLK  "—need  I  say  that 's  you  ?— 

"  Expects  to  meet  her  latest  swain. 
I  hope  the  doesn't  know  /  knew. 

The  only  thing  I  fear  is  rain." 
The  rain  came  down  !     Your  Acmes  failed 

To  cut  the  figure  that  you  hoped. 
Xo  wonder  that  your  spirit  railed 

To  find  the  lake  with  care  was  roped. 
Young  Thingummy — I  trust  he  called 

To  tell  how  cruel  was  his  state. 
He 's  young  and  curly  ;  I  am  bald  ; 

But  I  can  do  what  you  can't — waitj 


SUGGESTIVE  NAME  FOR  THE  CONSER- 
VATIVE CANDIDATE  AT  WAI/THAMSTOW.— 
Mountain  DEW AB. 


82  PUNCH,     OR     THE     LONDON     CHARIVARI.  [FEBRUARY  13,  1897. 


\\ 


FRBRUARY  13,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


83 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  FROM  THB  DIAKY  OP  TOBY,  M.P. 

Ilunse  of  Commune,  Monday,  February  1. 
— Universal  regret  to-night  at  news  flashed 
from  the  Border  country  that  GEOBOE 
TREVELYAN  will  sit  among  us  no  more. 
"  At  the  age  of  sixty-five,  and  after  forty- 
two  years  of  laborious  public  life,  I  think 
myself  entitled  to  retire  on  the  present 
opportunity.  The  retirement  is  dictated  to 
me  by  my  personal  views  as  to  the  best 
method  of  spending  the  closing  years  of 
my  life.  I  should,  perhaps,  add  that  I  am 
at  present,  and  moan  for  a  short  time  to 
be,  engaged  on  a  special  matter  which 
occupies  me  closely." 

No,  no.  Of  course  that 's  what  Mr.  G. 
wrote  to  "My  dear  GRANVILLE"  more 
than  twenty-two  years  ago,  on  eve  of 
epoch  in  career  that  woula  of  itself  have 
made  fame  of  any  man.  GEOBOE  TRE- 
VELYAN  not  sixty  yet;  been  only  thirty 
years  in  public  life.  Circumstances  other- 
wise so  similar,  even  to  "  special  matter" 
on  hand  in  TREVELYAN'S  study,  that  I  for 
moment  mixed  up  things. 

Since  TREVELYAN,  having,  for  conscience' 
sake,  separated  himself,  on  Home  Rule 
question,  from  his  old  leader  and  the  Party 
in  which  he  was  born,  and  performed  the  more 
heroic  act  of  returning  to  the  fold,  he  has 
been  object  of  especial  obloquy  in  certain 
quarters  of  House.  Could  understand  a 
man  moved  by  conscience  making  one  sacri- 
fice. But  being  thereby  fortuitously  landed 
amid  circumstances  of  great  prosperity,  in 
a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey,  where 
judgeships  grew  like  brambles,  Privy 
Councillorships  paved  the  pathways,  and 
first  pick  was  had  of  places  in  the  Ministry 
— how,  in  such  circumstances,  a  politician 
should  be  troubled  by  further  twinges  of 
conscience,  passed  the  understanding  of 
simple-minded  men.  So,  when  TREVELYAN 
rose  to  speak,  they  howled  at  him,  openly 
jeered,  or  ostentatiously  conversed. 

That  is  over  now  with  his  Parliamentary 
career.  The  bitterest  partisan  recognises 
in  him  an  honest  man,  supersensitively 
honest  if  you  will ;  of  chivalrous  spirit ;  of  a 
courage  that  did  not  fear  the  assassin's  knife 
in  Dublin,  nor  the  Irish  Member's  tongue 
at  Westminster ;  a  man  who  invested  poli- 
tical controversy  with  the  fine  flavour  of 
literature  and  the  grace  of  gentlemanhood. 
GEORGE  TREVELYAN  is  a  born  literary 
man.  From  a  sense  of  duty  he  became  a 
trained  politician,  and  for  thirty  years  has 
served  the  public  in  Parliament  and  on  the 
platform.  His  real  delight  was  in  books  ; 
his  home  the  library.  In  the  triumphs 
and  disappointments  of  an  active  political 
career 

His  heart  untrarclled  fondly  turned  to  home. 
Now  he  has  entered  it  and  closed  the  doors, 
presently  to  emerge,  all  the  world  hopes, 
with  a  newly  written  book  of  his  own. 

First  night  of  new  piece  at  Westminster 
Theatre  Royal.  The  Education  Bill :  a 
serious  drama,  in  three  acts.  These  not 
named.  SQUIRE  OF  MALWOOD  suggests — 
Act  I.,  Introduction  ;  Act  II.,  Amendment 
Act  III.,  Withdrawal.  That  a  matter  on 
the  knees  of  the  gods.  (I  don't  mean  in 
the  gallery.) 

Meanwhile,  no  doubt  about   success  oi 


THE  OLD  WHIP  ! 


Sir  W-ll-m  H-rt  D-ki  (to  Mr.  M-cl-n  and  otheri).  "  '  Mind*  of  your  own,'  indeed,  never  heard  of 
such  a  thing  !    Egad,  Sir,  /  "d  make  some  of  yer  come  to  heel  if  I  had  my  way  !  " 


the  little  farce  which,  in  accordance  with 
old  tradition,  preceded  the  drama.  A  one- 
man  part,  played  by  JOHN  o'  GORST.  He 
is  still  Minister  of  Education,  you  know, 
and  should,  in  ordinary  circumstances, 
have  had  charge  of  the  Government  Bill. 
PRINCE  ARTHUR  thinks  he  will  do  it 
better,  or  at  least  safer.  So  Vice-Presi- 
dent of  the  Council  roots  out  of  pigeon- 
holes of  office  a  minute  measure  stagger- 
ing under  the  title  "  A  Bill  to  annul  an 
Order  in  Council  confirming  a  scheme  re- 
lating to  the  Foundation  known  as  the 
Berriew  School."  Just  before  PRINCE 
ARTHUR  rose  to  explain  the  Education 
Bill,  JOHN  o'  GORST,  after  gruesomely 
posing  for  a  moment  at  the  Bar  awaiting 
the  SPEAKER'S  signal  to  advance,  solemnly 
marches  up  floor,  carefully  "  bringing  in" 
this  infant  scheme. 

"What's  the  name  of  the  school?" 
PRINCE  ARTHUR  asked  him  when  he  re- 
sumed seat  on  the  Treasury  Bench, 

"  Berriew,"  said  JOHN  o'  GORST,  in 
funereal,  almost  sepulchral  voice. 

"  '  Bury  you,'  "  mused  PRINCE  ARTHUR, 
vainly  repressing  a  shudder.  "  I  hope 


that 's  not  the  proper  pronunciation  of  the 
word.  It  would  be  a  little  ominous." 

Bueinets  done.— Education  Bill  introduced 
in  Committee  of  Ways  and  Means. 

Tueiday.— Listening  to  BILLY  DYKE  just 
now  discoursing  on  men  and  things,  the 
Education  Bill,  the  revolt  below  the  gang- 
way, the  iniquity  of  insubordination  and 
the  right  divine  of  gentlemen  on  the 
Treasury  Bench,  one  sighs  to  think  of  the 
long  silence  imposed  on  this  eloquent,  per- 
suasive tongue,  when  tied  and  bound  by 
the  leashes  of  the  Whip.  There  is  general 
feeling  in  House  that  DYKE  has  been 
badly  done  to.  He  bore  the  heat  and 
burden  of  many  days  merged  in  all-night 
sittings.  In  office  or  in  Opposition  he  was 
always  at  his  post,  adding  to  the  essential 
qualities  of  a  man  of  business  the  charm, 
inestimable  in  a  Whip,  of  personal  popu- 
larity. When,  in  1895,  his  Party  came 
into  power  with  a  thundering  majority  and 
the  certainty  of  long  possession  of  office, 
the  old  Whip — old  in  experience,  young  in 
years  as  statesmen  go — was,  so  to  speak, 
hung  up  in  the  harness-room.  Situation 
made  all  the  more  bitter  by  seeing  pro- 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[FEBRUARY  13,  1897. 


moted  to  pleasing  office  obscure  men,  who 
not  only  had  not  served  the  Party,  but, 
when  DYKE  was  drudging  in  the  Whips' 
Eoom,  did  their  level  best  to  upset  the 
coach. 

Some  noble  souls  thus  smitten  stride 
below  the  gangway,  and  there  nurse  their 
wrath  to  keep  it  warm.  Of  finer,  truer 
metal,  BILLY  DYKE  has  shown  no  sign  of 
the  resentment  others  feel  for  him.  Here 
he  is  to-night  coming  to  help  of  Govern- 
ment in  nasty  circumstances,  warning  re- 
calcitrants below  gangway  of  the  danger  of 
the  course  they  have  embarked  upon,  and, 
whilst  hinting  at  possibilities  of  improve- 
ment in  Education  Bill,  declaring  that  he 
for  one  will  stand  by  Ministers  to  the  end. 

"I  am  a  Party  man,"  he  said  proudly. 
"  I  have  always  been  a  Party  man.  1 
hope  to  live  and  die  a  Party  man." 

That  's  the  stuff  strong  Parties  are  made 
of.  The  pity  of  it,  SARK  says,  is  that 
Party  leaders  are  apt  to  take  advantage  of 
the  loyalty  of  chaps  like  HART  DYKE,  and 
purchase  with  prizes  that  should  be  theirs 
the  allegiance  of  shiftier  men. 

Business  done.  —  Education  Resolutions 
carried  by  Closure. 

Thursday. — There  is  dolour  at  Knights- 
bridge,  woe  in  Albany  Street  and  the 
sound  of  wailing.  The  fiat  has  gone  forth. 
The  word  was  spoken  to-day  simultane- 
ously in  Lords  and  Commons.  The  Guards, 
or  some  of  them,  all  in  turn,  are  to  go  to 
Gibraltar.  Brave  men  turn  pale  at  the 
thought.  Hearts  that  never  beat  a  moment 
faster  to  the  music  of  the  cannon  feebly 
throb.  Suppose  there  isn't  a  pluckier  man 
alive  than  PATH,  SANDFORD,  Lord  METHTJEN. 
For  these  twenty  years  past  he  has  eagerly 
snuffed  the  battle-smoke  wheresoever  it 
has  arisen.  Far  off  Bechuanaland  knows 
the  snorting  of  "  Methuen's  Horse."  Its 
broad  veldts  have  trembled  to  the  tread  of 
their  irresistible  onslaught.  Yet  to-night, 
METHUEN,  rising  in  the  harmless,  if  not 
necessary.  House  of  Lords,  was  so  un- 
manned by  the  shock,  so  overcome  by 
emotion,  that  he  actually  addressed  the 
paralyzed  Peers  as  "  Gentlemen  " !  Not 
that  the  case  is  otherwise,  but  the  etiquette 
of  the  place  demands  another  form  of  ad- 
dress. 

When  report  first  got  wind  that  three 
battalions  of  the  Guards  were  to  be  sta- 
tioned in  the  Mediterranean,  Albany  Street 
and  Knightsbridge  were  suffused  with  feel- 
ing of  patriotic  satisfaction.  Naturally 
concluded  that  Malta  was  intended. 
Malta  a  sort  of  better-class  Eel  Pie  Island 
set  in  the  Blue  Mediterranean,  with  troops 
of  friends  bound  East  or  West  looking  in, 
with  the  Fleet  at  hand,  and  good  company 
assured.  Not  quite  the  same  thing  as 
Mayfair  in  the  season.  Still,  consciousness 
that  one  is  serving  his  country,  protecting 
the  Empire,  makes  amends  for  much.  But 
Gibraltar!  Fancy  leaving  London  in  the 
high  season  to  yawn  through  May,  Juno, 
and  July  on  a  blasted  rock,  Society  being 
chiefly  represented  by  the  aboriginal  apes 
who  people  its  caverns!  Moreover  than 
which,  there  is  no  nlace  at  Gib  to  ma- 
noeuvre, the  men  will  mope ;  the  battalion 
will  deteriorate  ;  and  all  for  what  ?  The 
Guards  die,  but  never  surrender.  And  now 
they're  to  go  to  Gibraltar! 

One  thinks  of  CAMPBELL'S  pitiful  lament : 

There  rame  to  the  beach  a  poor  exile  of  Erin. 

What  were  his  metrical  woes  compared 
with  those  that  swell,  at  least  an  inch  be- 


THE    PLEASURES    OF    HUNTING. 

NO.    I. — TO  GET  A   TOSS  IN   A   SNOWDRIFT,    AND,    WHILE  LYING   HALF-8MOTHF.RED,    TO   BE 
SWORN  AT  FOE  NOT  SHOUTING  TO   WARN   THE   MAN    FOLLOWING   YOU. 


yond  regulation  measurement,  the  breast 
of  him  who  shall  dwell  on  the  rock  a  poor 
Exile  from  Mayfair. 

Business  done. — Education  Bill  brought 
in  in  Commons. 

Friday.  —  House  listening  to  GEORGE 
OSBORNE  MORGAN  discoursing  on  grave- 
yards and  other  political  topics  of  hour,  apt 
to  forget  that  he  was  one  of  the  most  bril- 
liant men  of  his  day  at  Balliol ;  First  Class 
in  Classics,  Newdigate  Prizeman,  Chan- 
cellor's Prizeman  for  English  Essay,  and 
much  else.  Uuiversity  education  doesn't 
count  for  much  in  our  democratic  days. 
Now  Mr.  G.  ha»  left  us,  few  men  are  bold 
enough  to  venture  on  classical  quotation. 

A  year  or  two  ago,  "  MABON,"  it  is  true, 
addressing  the  House  lightly  dropped  into 
the  Welsh  tongue.  But  that  not  quite  the 
same  thing.  OSBORNE  MORGAN  can,  1  be- 
lieve, talk  Welsh  with  the  pure  Machyn- 
lleth  accent.  That  he  is  as  fully  master  of 
the  Latin  tongue  as  if  he  had  studied  it 
with  VIROII.  in  "  unhappy  Cremona "  is 
proved  by  the  little  volume  from  the  Uni- 
versity Press  PRINCE  ARTHUR  brought 
down  with  him  to-night  to  study  whilst 
HICKS-BEACH  terrified  SQUIRE  OF  MAL- 
WOOD  with  prospect  of  new  expedition  to 
Soudan. 

The  Welsh  G.  O.  M.  has  tackled  the 
Eclogues  of  VIRGIL,  and,  disdaining  earlier 
expediencies,  has  done  them  into  English 
in  the  bard's  own  metre.  Of  course  the  re- 
sult is  uneven.  So  is  the  pathway  up 
Snowdon  and  Parnassus.  -How  charming  it 
may  be  made  let  these  three  perfect  lines 
from  the  fifth  Eclogue  testify : 


Sweeter  to  me  tuat  song  than  the  fining  breath  of 

the  South  wind, 
Sweeter  than  music  made  by  the  wave-beaten 

shores  of  the  ocean, 
Sweeter  than  pebbly  streams  through  rock -built 

valleys  descending. 

Plenty  more  like  them  in  the  volume. 

Business  done. — Pay  up  costs  of  last 
year's  Soudan  Expedition,  and  prepare  for 
another. 


THE  NEW  AZBA.EL. 

"  OH  !  had  I  but  Aladdin's  Lamp, 

Were  't  only  for  a  single  day," 
I  'd  send  Yank  Oil  Trusts  on  the  tramp, 

Whose  only  care  appear  to  pay. 
A  "  safety  lamp  "  is  in  request, 

But  Oil-king  profits  it  might  spoil 
Were  some  one  to  devise  a  test 

For  (reasonably)  "safety  oil." 
Cheap  oil  may  swell  the  Trusts'  accounts ; 

As  to  its  "  flash-point  " — don't  inquire  ! 
Meanwhile    the    death-rate    mounts    and 
mounts, 

From  lamp  explosions  causing  fire. 
Oh  !  King  Petroleum  is  a  king 

Whose   power   and   wealth   arrest   one's 

breath  ; 
But  need  he  spread  an  Azrael  wing 

Above  us  like  a  new  King  Death  ? 


NEW  NAME  FOR  LADIES  WHO  SOLICIT 
THE  SUFFRAGE. — The  Sturdy  (Faithfull) 
Begg-ars. 

A  BUY  ELECTION. — Where  the  seat  is  sold. 


FEBRUARY  20,   1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


A     SKETCH     IN     REGENT    STREET. 

PrzzLE — ON  WHICH  SIDE  ARE  THE  SHOP  WINDOWS  ? 


TRUE  LOYALTY. 

(Contributions  selected  from  several  leading 
Waste-paper  Baskets. ) 

Cheapside. 

SIR, — The  proposal  so  nobly  suggested  by 
His  Royal  Highness  the  Prince  of  WALES 
will  doubtless  strike  a  responsive  chord  in 
the  heart  of  every  Briton.  The  welfare  of 
pur  suffering  brethren  in  the  Hospitals  is 
indeed  an  object  worthy  of  our  best  endea- 
vours. This  fact  will  justify  us  in  remind- 
ing your  readers  that  the  chances  of  re- 
covery from  illness  are  often  imperilled  by 
the  unwholesome  nourishment  given  to  the 
patients,  especially  when  they  are  ordered 
to  take  cocoa.  You  would  hardly  believe, 
Sir,  the  number  of  inferior  brands  of  this 
commodity  with  which  the  market  is 
flooded.  How,  then,  could  the  British 
public  better  commemorate  the  glorious 
reign  of  our  beloved  QUEEN  than  by  pur- 
chasing for  every  hospital  in  the  kingdom 
a  large  quantity  of  the  Pure,  Wholesome, 
and  Refreshing  Cocoa  manufactured  only 
by  Your  obedient  servants, 

NIBBS,  DIBBS  <fc  Co.  ? 

Birchington  College. 

SIR, — My  major  says  that  he  had  an  ex- 
tra week's  holiday  in  1887  because  of  the 
Jubilee.  Since  then,  as  old  EUCLID  would 
say,  this  year  is  greater  than  the  Jubilee, 
much  more  then  we  must  have  an  extra 
fortnight  at  least  added  to  the  Summer 
Vac.  Q.E.D. 

Again,  Greek  is  rot,  and  I  hate  it.  So 
do  all  of  us.  Why  not  abolish  it  ?  I  've  got 
to  finish  a  beastly  Latin  prose,  so  can't  say 
more  now,  but  this  is  the  Commemoration 
Programme  suggested  by  us,  the  Lower 
Fifth  at  Birchington  College  :  — 

(i.)  Two  weeks'  extra  holiday. 

(ii.)  Abolition    of   Greek  and   Corporal  i 
Punishment. 

(iii.)  A  jolly  good  blow-out. 

Yours  respectfully, 
TOMMY  TITTLEBAT. 

Queen's  Gate. 

SIR, — It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  coming 
"commemoration,"  as  it  is  called,  will  not 
witness  a  repetition  of  the  idiotic  features 
which  disgraced  the  Jubilee  ten  years  ago. 
)n  that  occasion,  I  was  expected  to  provide 
board  and  lodging  for  one  of  my  idle  sons 
for  a  whole  week  beyond  the  already  ex- 
cessive length  of  the  summer  holidays. 


This  is  all  very  pleasant  for  the  school- 1  accomplishments  of  the  younger  genera 
master,  but  it  is  disgraceful  that  the  un-  tion?  This  would  indeed  make  the  year 
happy  parents  should  be  burdened  in  this  notable,  and  it  could  easily  be  effected  bi 
way.  Why  should  not  this  year  mark  a  shortening  by  a  month  or  so  the  vacations 
greafc  step  forward  in  the  knowledge  and  of  our  schoolboys,  at  Birchington  College 

and  elsewhere.  Hoping  that  the  head- 
masters will  have  the  sense  to  act  on  this 
suggestion,  Yours  obediently, 

OoTAvnrs  TITTLEBAT. 
Chelsea. 

SIR, — The  present  year  deserves  imper- 
ishable record  in  the  annals  of  time.    Anc 
bow  is  such  record  to  be  given  ?    By  a  few 
bonfires  and  fireworks,  shortlived  as  their 
own  radiance  P  By  the  ruin  of  many  diges- 
tions, owing  to  the  so-called  banquets  that 
will  be  held  ?    Or  even  by  the  narratives  ol 
its  glories  in  stately  prose,  such  as  adorns 
your  columns,  and  illuminates  the  quoti- 
dianal  breakfast-table  of  countless  readers  ? 
No,  Sir;   even  this  is  insufficient  and  in- 
adequate   to    do    justice  to  the    Longest 
Reign.    Poetry,  Sir,  pure,  musical,  magni- 
ficent poetry  is  wanted,  and  that  want  I 
propose  to  supplv.    My  epic  in  fifteen  can- 
tos,   entitled    Vietoria   Triumphant,    wfll 
shortly  be  ready,  printed  and  bound  in  thr 
most  sumptuous  style.     And  it  would  be 
false  modesty  were  I  to  conceal  the  fact 
that  in  future  ages,  when  the  memory  of 
our  QUEEN  herself  becomes  dim,  the  year 
1897  will  still  be  honoured,  because  in  it 
appeared  the  noblest  poem  that  the  world 
has  seen — need  I  again  refer  to   Victorin 
Triumwhans  by  name  ?     The  price  is  ridi 
cnlously  low — no  more  than  five  guineas 
in  fact.    Intending  subscribers  should  sem1 
tlipir    names  —  with    remittance*  —  to    me 
without  delay.        Yours  faithfullv, 

AUGUSTUS  PINDAR. 

SIR, — I  never  lose  an  opportunity  of  lef- 
*ing  the  miblic  know  of  my  existence,  and 
this  the  Regal  Jubilee  Year  is  a  first-rate 
one  for  Youn, 

GENERAL  BOOM  OF  BOOMSBVRT. 


PROBABLE  APPEARANCE  OF  DR.  NAN-SEN, 
IF  HE  ACCEPTS  ALL  THE  INVITATIONS  FOB 
DINNER  WHICH  ARE  BEING  SHOWIRKD  UPON 
HIM  JUST  NOW. 


X-TRAORDIJTARY  COOKING. — The  X  ray« 
have  just  been  introduced  into  the  Rova' 
Kitchens,  in  order  to  detect  any  foreign 
substance  in  the  food  prepared.  We  con- 
clude therefore  that,  Her  M*.TFRTY  will 
henceforth  live  upon  Xtract  of  British  meat 


SUGGESTED  EIIUCATIOXAI,  ROMANCE.— 
The  School  matter,  by  HALL  CAUTE. 


86 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIA^ARI. 


[FEBRUARY  20,  1«97. 


FIBHUABY  20,  1897.]  PUNCH,   OK  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


87 


prigs  have  not 


GOODE  NEWS 

FOR  ST.  VALK.NTINK'S  DAY  AND  THE  PURVEYORS  OF  POPULAR  VEIUSK 
[Mr.  J.  J.  QOODE  informs  the  Daily  Chnmcl*  representative  that  "  during 
the  past  two  or  threo  years  the  valentine  has  been  looking  up  in  the  mot 
promising  fashion."] 

Peoples  Poet- Laureate  loquitur : — 
WELL,  I  'm  glad  to  hear  that  1    Of  late  years  they  've  been  flat 

and  you  'd  hardly  twig  what  one  in  twenty  meant, 
But  this  news  seems  to  prove  that  those  Pessimist  prigs  ha 

quite  banished  humour  and  sentiment. 
I  feared  that  the  age  had  thrown  off  fun  and  feeling  as  oft  a  she- 
falcon  will  her  jesses, 
And  that  the  last  home  of  the  smile  and  the  tear,  in  our  town, 

was  good  old  MOORE  and  BURGESS'S. 
With  faces  cork-blacked,  and  by  instruments  backed,  men  might 

still  pose  as — well,  men  of  feeling, 
But  for  the  most  part  the  dear  old  human  heart  seems  in  process 

or  rapid  congealing. 
That  sweet  bardlet,  BUNN,  of  whom  cynics  made  fun,  was  what 

I  call  the  typical  poet, 
For  the  smile,  and  the  blush,  and  the  amorous  gush,  all  as  sweet 

as  the  mild  fizz  of  Moet 
In  saccharine  days,  BUNN  could  work,  and  his  bays,  tear-watered 

are  green  and  immortal. 

Only  he  and  the  valentine  writers  I  say  ought  to  pass  the  Par- 
nassian portal. 
Lord  TENNYSON'S  rhymes  might  be  taking,  sometimes,  though  a 

little  bit  spoiled  by  profundity  ; 
But  how  many  of  his  would  be  real  "good  biz  "  on  a  valentine  ? 

Why,  hardly  one  ditty  I 
If  SWINBURNE  and  he  could  compete  with— say  me,  I  am  certain 

they  wouldn't  be  in  it 
In  knocking   off  suitable  verses  and  mottoes,   for  trade,  at  a 

stanza  per  minute : 

The  Arts,  for  St.  Valentine's  glorious  purposes,  need  to  be  "  sim- 
ple and  passionate," 
Not  quaint  and  intense,  like  our  poets  and  posters  to-day.     I 

the  up-to-date  fashion  hate  I 
The  phantasmal  creatures  with  angular  features  who  sprawl  on 

each  wall,  and  each  cover, 
\Vould  not  suit  the  filagree  fripperies  dear  to  the  soul  of  an 

old-fashioned  lover. 
An  amorous  couple,   slim-waisted  and  supple,  who  stroll  up  a 

serpentine  pathway 

Towards  a  toy-church  in  the  distance — that  was  in  old  "Philis- 
tine "  days  our  true  Gath-way  I — 

Would  now,  h'ke  old  crockery,  meet  with  huge  mockery.     Never- 
theless I  feel  certain 
A  cramped,  sooty,  silhouette-heed,  scarlet-headed  she-ghoul  by  a 

asp-spotted  curtain, 
And  under  a  mystical  sky  like  a  tangle  of  snakes  o'er  a  horrid 

horizon, 
A-stare  at  a  lover  contorted  and  pale,  like  poor  Villikins  after  the 

"pizon," 
Is  quite  as  conventional,  not  half  as  nice,  and  though  it  may  do 

for  new  Street-Art, 
Transferred  to  a  valentine  'tis  not  a  thing  a  good  fellow  would 

send  to  his  sweetheart. 
And  yet  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  some  decadent  duffer  should 

try  the  experiment — 
Hang  him  I— of  High  Art  applied  to  the  valentine II I     Healthy 

emotion  and  merriment 
Now  seem  as  dead  as  the  dust  of  old  Pharaoh.     Ah  !     Yes,  some 

neurotical  ninny 
Will  probably   give  us  VERLAiNE-phM-ViERGE    as    a    valentine, 

proofs  price  one  guinea, 
Printed  on  coarse  sugar-papers,  in  mud!  Oh,  for  good  poet  BUNN, 

and  the  fellows 
Who  limned  hearts  and  darts,  churches,  lovers,  and  lanea,  in  the 

good  old  greens,  purples  and  yellows. 
[  trust  Mr.  GOODE  is  an  accurate  prophet,  that  Valentine's  Day  u 

reviving. 
And  that,  like  a  bird,  every  boy   (though  absurd)   intent  upon 

wooing  and  wiving,  [tanner 

In  chill  February,  aspiring  to  marry,  may  venture  his  bob  or  his 
In  buying  a  love-missive,  written  and  drawn  in  the  dear  old  con- 
ventional manner ; 
And  that,  though  it  meet  with  the  decadent's  scorn,  and  the 

halfpenny  cnticast's  curses, 
The  valentine  still  may  mean  popular  Art  nnd  simple  emotional 

verses  1 
Much  honest  Art-skill  is  available  still  for  the  pictures,  if  people 

will  buy  them, 
And  as  to  the  "  lines,"— though  I  say  it  who  shouldn't — I  know  a 

poor  bard  who  'II  supply  them  ! 


SONGS    AND    THEIR    SINGERS.     No.    IX. 


A  VOICE  FROM  THE  CLASSES. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — The  other  evening,  at  the  "Annual 
Dinner  of  the  Society  of  Authors"  (poor  chaps,  do  they  have 
silly  one  square  meal  a  year?),  tne  Chairman,  Sir  JOHN 
[-UBBOCK,  delivered,  to  my  mind,  a  very  suggestive  speech. 
lli>  seemed  greatly  pleased  with  the  progress  that  educa- 
tion had  made  during  the  present  century.  But  I  think 
le  was  wrong.  Speaking  for  myself  (and  I  represent  a  lot 
of  other  fellows),  I  certainly  have  had  the  benefit  of  a  good 
school  and  its  teaching.  Worse  luck  I  According  to  Sir  JOHN, 
:he  Romans  had  a  saying,  "  that  a  child  should  learn  nothing  that 
le  could  not  learn  on  his  feet."  And  why  not  ?  A  very  sensible 
suggestion.  Of  course,  nowadays,  we  would  alter  it  to  "  urith 
lis  feet,"  as  the  correction  would  enable  us  to  include  football 
and  cricket.  But  why  did  the  amiable  president  of  the  Annually 
Dining  Authors  hold  up  to  reprobation  the  glorious  fact  that 
.hirty  years  ago  several  hundred  schoolmasters  and  schoolmis- 
resses  could  not  write  ?  Think  of  objecting  to  that !  Why,  if  the 
'entlemen  who  look  after  me  at  my  place  of  learning  had  never 
>een  taught  to  sign  their  names  the  saving  in  trouble  would  have 
>een  immense.  And  then  there  would  have  been  another  distinct 
dvantage-^had  I  not  been  able  to  write  you  would  never  have 
received  this  letter  1  Yours  cheekily,  JONES  MINOB. 


NATURAL  HISTORY  PHILOSOPHY. — The  man  -who  would  say 
'  Beau  ! "  to  a  goose  would  be  capable  of  ejaculating  "  Belle  ! 
o  a  gander. 


88 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[FEBRUARY  20,  1897. 


BY    ORDER    OF   THE    L.   C.    C. 

Hobby.  "  MOTHEB  !    IF  THAT  GENTLEMAN  ONLY  KNEW  IT,  HE  MIGHT  TAKE  OFF  HIS  MUZZLE  NOW,  MIGHTN'T  HE?' 


OUE  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

"WHAT  this  book  wants,"  Miss  MARY 
KINGSLEY  writes  by  way  of  introduction  to 
her  Travels  in  West  Africa  (MACMILLAN), 
"  is  not  a  simple  preface,  but  an  apology." 
What  it  really  wants  is  cutting  down  by  at 
least  two  hundred  pages.  It  is  a  marvellous 
story  of  a  woman's  courage,  enterprise,  en- 
durance, and  other  qualities  which  mere 
man  has  been  in  the  habit  of  claiming  as 
his  exclusive  birthright.  The  woman,  my 
Baronite  whispers  to  me,  is  betrayed  in  the 
copiousness  of  language  that  enlarges  the 
vulume  to  627  pages,  not  counting  appen- 
dices. That  grumble  discharged,  there  re- 
mains nothing  but  praise  for  the  book  and 
of  admiration  for  its  author.  She  has  a 
keen  eye  for  character,  an  abiding  sense  of 
the  picturesque,  a  humour  that  bubbles 
over  in  all  places  and  predicaments,  and  a 
graphic  pen,  whose  unfailing  flow  some- 
times carries  her  a  little  far  afield. 

Now  that  CALVERLEY  is  no  more,  Mr. 
OWEN  SEAMAN  is  his  own  most  dangerous 
rival.  He  has  excelled  himself  in  The 
liattle  of  the  Bays.  A  parody,  unless  done 
by  a  master  hand,  is  a  poor  thing.  In 
this  little  volume  the  master  hand  is  visi- 
ble in  every  line.  Of  the  nine  Muses  who 
compete  in  the  contest  it  is  difficult  to  say 
which  contributes  more  to  the  delight  of 
the  reader.  My  Baronite  inclines  to  the 
study  of  Sir  EDWIN  ARNOLD,  whose  fine 
poetic  style  is  exceedingly  tempting  to  the 
wickedly  inclined.  That  is  a  matter  of 
taste.  The  taster  will  find  all  toothsome. 
What  the  subjects  of  Mr.  SEAMAN'S  satire 
think  of  his  work  is,  as  one  of  them  when 


he  writes  in  prose  is  occasionally  prone  to 
observe,  "  another  story."  The  exercise 
kindly  provided  should  be  useful  to  them 
as  the  Rontgen  rays  in  the  hands  of  a 
skilled  physician  throw  priceless  light  on 
other  human  diseases  and  malformations. 
It  is  one  of  Mr.  SEAMAN'S  minor  japes  that 
his  book  is  published  at  the  Bodley  Head, 
at  which  he  occasionally  girds. 

THE  BARON. 


DR.  NANSEN'S  SHIRT. 

WE  welcome  the  fearless  explorer ; 

Undoubtedly  he  can  assert 
He  's  beaten  the  record,  a  scorer, 

Al  in  the  matter  of  shirt. 

So  "  palmam  qui  meruit  ferat" 

Pecuniam  ferat — et  fert, 
For  people  are  crowding  to  hear,  at 

His  lectures,  accounts  of  his  shirt. 

Accounts — that  is  not  bills  for  washing, 
No  laundress  was  able  to  hurt, 

With  wringing,  or  mangling,  or  squash- 
ing, 
That  very  unfortunate  shirt. 

To  hear  of  his  journey  is  thrilling. 
That    wonderful    "Farthest    North" 
spurt, 

.And  people  seem  equally  willing 
To  hear  this  new  "  Song  of  a  Shirt." 

Yet  pardon  my  meekly  suggesting, 
In  phrases,  I  hope,  not  too  curt, 

Of  course  it  is  most  interesting, 
This  soiled  Scandinavian  shirt ; 

To  soap-scented  English  a  truly 

Remarkable  story  of  dirt. 
Repeated  on  all  sides  unduly — 

We  Ve  heard  quite  enough  of  that  shirt. 


DOGGED   GRATITUDE. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — Will  you  allow  me 
to  thank  through  your  columns  the  metro- 
politan and  county  magnates  who  have  so 
kindly  removed  the  debasing  muzzles, 
which  for  nearly  a  year  have  degraded  our 
race.  Rabies  only  concerns  the  wretched 
two-legged  creatures  whom  we,  with  ca- 
nine humour,  call  masters  and  mistresses, 
knowing  all  the  time  that  they  are  our 
devoted  slaves.  Henceforth,  until  some 
blundering  biped  interferes,  we  shall,  as  in 
the  good  old  days,  be  allowed  to  bite  as 
well  as  bark,  to  fight  among  ourselves,  and 
to  consume  without  prevention  that  gar- 
bage of  the  gutter  which  is  as  agreeable 
to  our  palates  as  is  lively  cheese  to  yours. 
With  best  love  to  all  philocaninethropists, 

I  am,  yours  gratefully, 
TOBY'S  FIRST  COUSIN  ONCE  REMOVED. 
Whine  Kennels,  Snarlborough. 


At  Windsor. 

American  Traveller  (tu  Waiter  at  the 
"Slue  Stay").  Say,  is  it  true  that  you've 
got  a  real  live  ghost  here  ? 

Waiter.  Yessir.  Believed  to  be  either 
Cardinal  GARNET  WOLSELEY,  'ERNE  the 
'Untsman,  Queen  ELIZABETH,  or  the  late 
King  of  the  Belgiums. 

American  Traveller.  Thanks.  Send  for 
the  local  reporter,  if  off  duty  in  any  one 
capacity. 

A  REMINDER  TO  OUR  GALLIC  NEIGH- 
BOURS.— We  obtained  our  position  in  Egypt 
by  French  leave. 


FKBUCARY  20,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


93 


OUE  NEW  XNIGHT-HOSPITALLEB. 

Tlic  I'rimx's  2'lea,  unjal  by  Mr.  Pursuivant 
Punch, 

L  AHOESB  !    Largeas  1    Lieges  all  1 

i'nmvl  y  Almoners  are  rarities. 
Who  '11  not  heed  so  clear  a  call 

In  so  high  a  cause  as  Charity's P 
New  Knigh^Uoapitaller  he, 

Patriot  Prince  as  kind  as  loyal. 
Heart  that 's  warm  and  hand  that  's  free 

Are  possessions  rightly  royal. 

Sixty  years  of  glorious  reign 

Make  appeal  through  him  most  rightly. 
Faith,  it  shall  not  be  in  vain ! 

England's  banner  beumeth  brightly, 
Blazoned  with  VICTORIA'S  name, 

And  two  words  of  happy  omen ; 
Which  must  earn  ungrudging  fame 

From  the  lips  of  friends  or  foemen. 

Let  the  cross  upon  his  breast 

Plead  to  every  patriot  spirit ; 
British  hearts  will  do  the  rest, 

Hearts  that  chivalry  inherit. 
At  his  bridle-rein  there  stands 

A  most  gracious  presence,  praying 
Largess  large  from  liberal  hands. 

Glad  response  there  '11  be  no  staying  1 

For  Her  Diamond  Jubilee 

Were  there  fitter  celebration 
Than  a  flood  of  charity 

From  a  proud  and  loyal  nation  ? 
Honour  to  a  generous  Prince, 

Loved  -by  Her  we  love  and  treasure, 
Fitliur  could  we  all  evince 

Than  by  gifts  in  stintless  measure  ? 

Gifts  to  Charity,  the  cause 

Of  the  poor  our  Prince  well  pleadeth. 
Not  mere  salvoes  of  applause 

Our  Knight-Hospitaller  ueedeth. 
Largess  1    Largess  1    Tis  his  chum 

Urged  with  simple  kindly  clarity 
In  the  loved  and  honoured  name 

Of  our  QUEEN  and  gentle  Charity  1 


HOW  TO  LOSE  A  SEAT. 

(A  Farce  now  being  played  at  tlix  Bye-Elections.) 

SCENE— OJjux  of  Local  Wire-puller. 

Local  Wire-puller  discovered.     Tu  him  enter 

Would-be  Candidate. 

L.W.P.  (cordially).  You  got  my  note, 
Sir? 

W.B.C.  (with  difficulty  finding  hisworda). 
Yes;  I  thank  you.  It  is  not  for  me  to 
understand  it.  For  1  am  what  you  call 
a  stranger. 

L.W.P.  (heaitily).  Nonsense,  Sir,  you 
are  a  good  Englishman — you  have  been  na- 
turalised. 

ll'.H.C.  Yes;  like  the  good  gentleman 
who  got  in  by  what  you  call  the  flesh  ot 
his  teeth  at  Komford.  But  he  is  more  ac- 
complished, more  English,  more  popular 
than  I. 

L.W.P.  Oh  I  you  will  do  well  enough. 
You  don't,  of  course,  come  from  the  cen- 
tral office  P 

W.B.C.  Oh,  no  I  Oh !  they  do  say  I  not 
know  nothing  about  anything,  and  (smiling) 
ma  foi,  I  think  they  are  right  1 

L.W.P.  Well,  we  must  teach  you. 
What  are  your  views  on  Education  P 

W.B.C.  I  know  nothing  about  Educa- 
tion. 

L.W.P.  Then  come,  what  are  your 
views  on  any  subject  of  political  interest  P 

W.B.C.  I  do  not  know  any. 

L.W.P.  Wellj  can  you  tell  me  anything 
about  the  constituency? 

W.B.C.  No  ;  I  cannot.  For.  you  see,  I 
have  never  been.  I  know  nothing  at  all. 


'THE    MISSIS"    WOULD    OBLIGE. 

Philanthropist.  "I'll  BOBBY  TO   SEE  YOU   is   THIS  CONDITION-,  PARKER. 
YOU  'LL  MISS  THE  LECTURE  TO-MOHT." 

Parker.  "OH  NO,  I  SHAN'T.     I'M  OOIN' — SHTRAIGHTOMB." 


I    V.     AFRAID 


L.W.P.  (preparing  io  make  a  note).  And 
your  name  P 

IF. B.C.  My  name  it  is  PROUD  HOMXB — I 
beg  pardon.  I  forgot.  I  have  changed 
that.  I  am  Meester  SMEETH. 

L.  W.P.  To  be  sure.  I  forgot.  SMITH. 
First-rate  name.  Well,  Mr.  SMITH,  and 
now  one  last  question.  How  about  your 
banking  account  ? 

W.Ji.C.  (giving  pass  book).  It  is  here. 

L.W.P.  (greatly  gratified).  Five  figures! 
Entirely  satisfactory  1  Well,  my  dear  Sir, 


with  your  qualifications,  I  shall  certainly 
have  the  pleasure  of  congratulating  you 
upon  being  our  Member.  [Curtain. 

[But  the  Local  Wire-puller  finds  himself  mis- 
taken, as  the  voter*  reject  "  Jfeetter  SMBSTB," 
and  elect  his  better-known  opponent. 


THE  SORROWS  OF  SAT-ON. — Those  of  the 
owner  of  a  hat  which  has  met  with  the 
oppression  of  a  foreign  body. 


94 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[FEBRUARY  20,  1897. 


ARMORIAL   SHIRTS. 

(For  those  entitled  to  wear  Armorial  Coats.) 

THIS  suggestion,  which  Mr.  Punch  offers  for  the  consideration  of  the  pro- 
moters of  the  "  Armorial  Club,"  has  much  to  recommend  it.  Apart  from  the 
highly  decorative  effect  produced,  it  would  make  it  as  easy  to  know  "  who  's 
who  "  in  the  melee  of  a  modern  drawing-room  as  it  was  in  that  of  a  mediaeval 
battle.  Moreover,  if  proper  badges  of  distinction,  marks  of  cadency,  and  the 
like,  were  added,  the  Eligible  would  be  easily  distinguished  from  the  Ineli- 
gible, and  the  task  of  the  careful  chaperon  rendered  far  easier.  Lastly,  it 
would  do  more  than  anything  else  to  revive  the  study  of  the  venerable,  but 
somewhat  decayed,  science  of  Heraldry. 


ROUNDABOUT  READINGS. 

(Letters  from  Mr.  K.  to  his  Nephew  at  Cambridge,  and  to  Others.) 

No.  VIII. —Or  ROWING  —  OF  COPY-BOOK  MAXIMS  — OF  SPORTING 
PAPERS  IN  RELATION  TO  MOTHERS — OF  MOTHERS  IN  RELATION 
TO  ROWING— OF  PRESIDENTS  OF  BOAT  CLUBS. 

MY  DEAR  JACK, — So  you  are  rowing  in  the  Lent  Boat  of  your 
College,  and  have  begun  to  taste  the  delights  of  hard  training  ? 
The  seats,  you  say,  are  hard,  and  the  food,  though  plentiful, 
strikes  you  as  lacking  in  variety.  No  matter:  when  the  races 
are  over  and  you  have  bumped  your  way  to  glory,  you  will  re- 
turn with  an  added  zest  to  the  cakes^  the  ice-puddings,  and  the 
various  other  luxuries  of  ordinary  civilised  life.  In  the  mean- 
time, proceed  in  your  virtuous  career  of  glowing  exercise  and 
manly  honest  fatigue,  and  learn  how  to  subordinate  your  own 
particular  desires  to  the  general  good  of  your  crew.  The  copy- 
book maxims  of  your  childhood  will  assume  a  new  and  startling 
force  and  applicability.  The  saying,  for  instance,  that  health, 
wealth  and  wisdom  might  be  expected  from  early  bed-going  and 
early  rising  has  appeared  to  you  as  nothing  more  than  a  pale  and 
effete  generalisation.  You  will  now  realise  its  meaning  in  the 
state  of  your  wind  and  your  muscles  after  you  have  smitten 
the  sounding  furrows  of  the  Cam  in  a  practice  course  from  Baits- 
bite  to  the  finish.  And  as  for  wealth,  though  you  will  not  at 
one  stroke  (or  even  at  forty)  become  a  millionaire,  yet,  since 
rowing  is  a  cheap  amusement,  and  by  its  very  nature  forbids  all 
extravagance,  you  will  probably  find  yourself  all  the  better  in 


pocket  for  having  joined  the  company  of  oarsmen.  I  understand 
that  you  recently  sent  to  your  mother  a  copy  of  The  Field,  in 
which  your  crew  was  referred  to  as  being  "  distinctly  promising," 
and  it  was  further  stated  that  "  one  or  two  of  their  freshmen, 
notably  No.  6,  shape  very  well."  This  thoughtless  act  on  your 
part  has  roused  a  passion  for  oarsmanship  in  your  mother's  gentle 
breast.  She  who  formerly  confined  her  reading  to  the  births, 
marriages  and  deaths  in  The  Times,  now  takes  in  and  studies  with 
avidity  the  Sportsman  and  the  Sporting  Life,  and  complains  that 
too  much  attention  is  paid  to  the  University  Crews,  and  too  little 
to  the  doings  of  the  Cambridge  Lent  Boats.  She  also  learns 
incidentally  in  the  course  of  her  reading  that  "  In  answer  to  JAKE 
GINGER'S  challenge,  young  BOSSY  will  be  only  too  pleased  to  box 
him  if  Messrs.  KNOCKOUT  and  TOM  MITTENS  will  provide  a  purse," 
or  that  "  A  Gentleman  of  Brixton  is  willing  to  match  his  linnet 
against  Mo  CLARKE'S  from  £2  up  to  £5.  Business  only  meant," 
or  again,  that  "Jo  MIDDLF.HAM  requests  both  old  and  new 
patrons  to  remit  twenty-four  stamps  for  his  brilliant  special  for 
the  Dust  Park  Handicap.  Fear  nothing.  Lightning  Results." 
Into  these  green  pastures  of  literature  your  dear  mother  has 
turned  herself  loose.  I  very  much  fear  that  on  your  return 
home  you  will  find  her  a  changed  woman,  and  I  have  thought  it 
my  duty  in  some  measure  to  prepare  you  for  the  shock.  But  as 
to  athletics  and  the  part  their  sons  play  in  them  all  mothers 
behave  in  the  same  way.  They  delight  to  torture  their  innocent 
hearts  by  conjuring  up  imaginary  dangers  cunningly  calculated 
to  enhance  the  splendour  and  matchless  daring  of  their  sons. 
Your  mother  has,  of  course,  warned  you  that  you  must  wear  thick 
underclothing  when  you  row  so  as  to  diminish  the  risk  of  catching 
cold,  that  you  must  on  no  account  overexert  yourself,  that  you 
must  drink  your  hot  posset  before  you  turn  in  for  the  night,  and 
never  fail  to  change  both  your  boots  and  your  socks  when  you 
come  back  to  your  rooms  from  the  river.  Perhaps  you  think  your 
mother  is  exceptional  in  her  anxieties.  Not  a  bit  of  it.  The 
President  of  the  University  Boat  Club  is  an  embodiment  of  awe 
and  majesty.  Note  how  the  passers-by  point  his  noble  form  out 
to  one  another  as  he  treads  the  streets  on  his  way  to  the  boat- 
house  every  afternoon.  He  holds  the  fate  of  oarsmen  in  his 
hands.  How  impassively  he  rejects  one  or  calls  upon  another, 
with  how  solemn  an  alacrity  do  his  crew  obey  his  slightest  behest  I 
He  orders  a  course,  and  a  course  is  rowed ;  he  tefls  No.  5  that 
he  is  rowing  atrociously  short,  and  No.  6  feels  that  his  Life  has 
been  robbed  of  joy  and  his  future  days  doomed  to  despair.  The 
man  is  more  than  human.  Yet  this  exalted  being  has  a  mother, 
and  at  this  moment,  if  the  truth  could  be  revealed,  he  has  in  his 
pocket  a  letter  from  that  lady,  in  which  she  announces  the  dis- 
patch of  three  pairs  of  warm  stockings,  and  implores  him  to  re- 
tire from  the  crew  at  the  first  sign  of  fatigue,  reminding  him  that 
as  a  child  of  four  he  was  always  susceptible  to  coughs,  and  that 
the  family  doctor  quite  agrees  with  her  that  rowing  is  too  severe 
an  exercise  for  young  men.  So,  after  all,  even  Presidents  of 
University  Boat  Clubs,  earth-shakers  and  cloud-compellers  though 
they  may  appear,  are  human,  too— on  the  mother's  side,  and  I  '11 
warrant  that  if  this  particular  President  took  his  mother  at  her 
word,  gave  up  his  seat  in  the  boat  and  retired  to  a  life  of  in- 
glorious cotton-wool  and  comfort  there  would  be  no  more  miser- 
able woman  in  the  world  than  the  mother  who  had  urged  him  to 
the  fatal  deed.  In  the  meantime,  therefore,  if  you  wish  to 
please  your  mother,  I  advise  you  to  continue  rowing,  and  to  do 
your  best  when  the  time  comes  to  help  your  crew  to  make  a  bump 
every  night  of  the  races. 

Commend  me  to  your  amiable  terrier,  Tatters. 

Ever  your  affectionate  uncle,  BOB. 


AT   A   WEDDING. 

(After  the  Weather  of  the  last  Two  Months.) 

FOR  weeks  and  weeks  each  dismal  hour  gone, 

With  skies  of  quite  invariable  grey, 
Nor  sun;  nor  moon,  nor  even  stars  have  shone ; 

The  night  has  been  as  mournful  as  the  day. 

Such  sombre  skies  and  such  incessant  rain 

Disgust  at  last  the  most  contented  soul, 
And  even  Dr.  NANSEN  may  complain 

Of  gloom  that  seems  like  winter  at  the  Pole. 

O  bride  and  bridegroom,  you,  as  we  have  done, 
Have  watched  each  murky  morn,  each  night-like  noon, 

Like  us,  you  cannot  see  the  stars  or  sun, 
Then  thank  your  stars  you  have  your  honeymoon. 

"GlVB  it  up,"  says  the  new  "Perish  India"  fanatic  of  St. 
James's  Hall.  Well,  that — according  to  the  old  conundrum- 
catch — ia  just  "what  the  other  donkey  did." 


FEBRUARY  20,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


95 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  FHOM  THK  DIAHY  op  TOBY,  M.I'. 


e  of  Commons,  Monday,  February  8. 

Looking  in  again  at  House  at  eleven 
o'clock  to-night,  weighed  down  with  heavi- 
ness flmt  conn's  of  listening  to  seven  hours' 
di'Kiti-  mi  A  iiny  Administrntioii,  hardly 
kni'w  old  frifiul  AMKI.IVS  UK  IIAKH  M\I;K 
I.  IK  K  WOOD,  late  Lieu  tenant'  Colonel  of  tin 
(  'oldstreams,  now  Member  for  the  West  (or 
l-Ipping)  Division  of  Kssox.  (  )ii  <uilin:iry 
iirni.-ions  no  more  theory  presence  in  the 
House  thiin  fli:it  of  MARK  LocKwoon. 
With  h:it  tilted  Kirk  from  expansive  brow, 
hands  in  trousers'  [pockets,  a  smile  on  his 
face  and  a  jest  on  his  lips,  he  is  better  on  a 
foggy  day  than  a  jet  of  electric  light. 

Seen  at  his  best  in  domestic  circle  of  his 
learned  kiiiMu;in,  FRANK  LOCKWOOD,  Q.C. 
On  Christmas  Day  and  Twelfth  Night  the 
numerous  progeny  at  Lennox  Gardens, 
delight  .above  till  others  in  Uncle  MARK, 
with  his  pockets  bulging  with  bonbons, 
his  coat-tails  stored  with  rocking-horses, 
portable  steam-engines,  and  Noah's  Arks, 
with  elephants  cunningly  constructed  so 
that  they  may  with  prehensile  trunk  take 
up  in  turn  HHEM,  HAM,  and  JAPHET,  and 
trot  them  round  the  back  parlour  of  the  Ark. 

To-night  Uncle  MARK  transformed.  His 
very  voice  altered.  A  chill,  repellant  air 
of  business  warns  jesters  off.  Fact  is,  he 
has  prepared  a  paper  on  "  The  Iniquity  of 
Sending  the  Guards  to  Gibraltar."  Under- 
taken to  read  it  before  United  Service 
Institution  —  I  mean  the  House  of  Commons. 
Hour  has  struck,  and  here  is  the  man  ;  a 
and  reverend  seigneur,  profoundly 


'  Uncle  Mark."     (Colonel  L-ckw-d.) 


"f'EI.FHHITlKB   11O&E   OR  LESS   AT   HOME  !  "      (No.   I.) 

A  man's  idiosyncrasies  can  best  be  judged  when  one  sees  him  in  the  atmosphere  of  home.  Colonel 
H-w-rd  V-nc-nt  is  most  particular  that  the  eract  origin  of  every  article  should  be  PLAINLY  marked 
upon  it ! ! 


impressed  with  danger  to  empire  imminent 
on  threatened  deportation  of  Guards.  A 
very  good  paper  it  was  too,  Uncle  MARK 
evidently  having  whole  of  question  at  finger 
ends,  and  knowing  how  to  put  its  best 
points  forward. 

But,  as  I  mentioned,  hardly  recognised 
him.  Would  probably  have  failed,  only 
for  two  things.  One  was  recognition  of 
the  red  flower  of  a  blameless  life  ever  worn 
in  his  button-hole.  The  other,  the  way  in 
which  he  declaimed  the  sentence,  "  Lord 
METHUEN,  speaking  in  the  House  of  Lords 
the  other  night,  damned  the  War  Office 
plan  with  faint  praise." 

Used  in  this  connection  the  verb  is  quite 
Parliamentary,  a  trite  quotation.  But  the 
emphasis  Uncle  MARK  managed,  perhaps 
unconsciously,  to  throw  upon  the  little 
word  startled  the  House.  SPEAKER  in- 
stinctively clasped  arms  of  chair  with  ges- 
ture as  if  to  rise.  J.  G.  TALBOT'S  face 
clouded  with  expression  of  extreme  pain. 
But  before  anything  could  bo  done  Undo 
MARK  had  trotted  on,  showing  how  the 
average  height  in  the  Guards  is  five  foot  ten 
and  an  eighth ;  how  it  is  difficult  to  pre- 
serve that  standard  when  trade  is  depressed ; 
and  how  when,  under  a  Conservative  Go- 
vernment, trade  is  improving,  the  eighth 
of  an  inch  must  go,  and  with  it  one  of  the 
bulwarks  of  the  British  Constitution. 

liutiness  done.  —  Army  Estimates  dis- 
cussed. 

Tuesday.— SAX  SMITH  is  a  man  of  war. 
The  accidents  of  birth  and  business  associa- 
tion lodged  him  in  an  ungarrisoned  town, 
and  connected  him  with  the  cotton  trade. 
Nature  meant  him  for  a  Guardsman.  1 1  ml 


he  chanced  to  have  been  in  South  Africa 
when  preparations  for  the  famous  expedi- 
tion ALFRED  AUSTIN  hymned  were  to  the 
fore  he  would  have  been  torn  by  conflicting 
emotions.  Instinctively  he  would  shrink 
from  the  moral  obliquity  of  the  business ; 
but  his  right  hand  would  have  itched  for 
touch  of  the  rifle-stock,  his  left  for  the 
bridle-rein.  In  the  mind's  eye  one  sees 
him  riding  forth  on  a  better  errand,  booted 
and  spurred,  his  heart  full  of  courage  and 
his  belt  of  cartridges,  his  tawny  beard 
shining  under  Afric's  sun,  serving  for  his 
gallant  followers  the  part  played  in  another 
fight  in  other  days  by  the  plume  of  HENRY 
of  Navarre. 

Accidents,  as  aforesaid,  have  directed 
SAMUEL'S  feet  in  the  pathways  of  peace. 
But  hot  blood  will  bubble.  To-day  he 
leads  a  forlorn  hope  against  the  citadel  of 
the  Church.  For  what  timorous  men  dis- 
cuss as  tactical  reasons  no  worse  time 
could  have  been  chosen  for  such  enterprise. 
That  is  sufficient  for  SAMTJKL  SMITH.  Let 
others  seek  even  chances.  For  him  the 
hopelessness  of  hostile  odds  is  lure  irre- 
sistible. So  he  comes  up  to-night  with 
resolution  demanding  instant  disestablish- 
ment of  the  Church,  not  only  in  Wales, 
but  in  England.  The  mercenaries  of  the 
Front  Opposition  Bench  retire  to  their 
tents ;  instruct  the  orderly  if  anyone  calls 
to  say  they  're  "  not  at  home."  When  the 
heroic  figure  of  S.  S.  presents  itself  above 
the  gangway,  holding  in  red  right  hand  a 
scroll  of  manuscript  notes  which  mean  a 
speech  at  least  an  hour  long,  the  rank  and 
file  of  either  camp  fold  their  tents  like  the 
Arab  and  as  silently  steal  away. 


96 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[FEBRUARY  20,  1897. 


SAMUEL  cares  for  none  of  these  things. 
In  the  calm  solitude  of  his  study  he  has 
prepared  a  speech  of  prodigious  length. 
Topic  not  entirely  new;  does  not  at  the 
moment  inflame  public  mind  with  interest. 
What  of  that  P  S.  S.  has  the  first  place  in 
the  order  of  proceedings ;  the  House — at 
least  the  Speaker,  the  Sergeant-at-Arms, 
the  door-keepers,  and  the  benches — are  at 
his  mercy.  Perhaps,  if  he  has  his  oration 
neatly  type-written,  and  sends  it  to  the 
morning  papers,  they  will  gladly  allot  the 
three  columns  of  space  necessary  to  it* 
verbatim  printing.  Anyhow,  he'll  read 
his  screed  from  first  page  to  last.  If  the 
Sergeant-at-Arms  goes  to  sleep  in  his  chair 
his  blood  be  on  his  own  head. 

Business  done. — Mr.  SAMUEL  SMITH  pro- 
poses disestablishment  and  disendowment 
of  Church  of  England.  House  yawned 
through  two  hours  and  a  half.  In  midst 
of  yawn  of  really  dangerous  stretch  found 
itself  counted  out 

Thursday. — Mr.  WEIR,  temporarily  with- 
drawn from  forefront  of  Parliamentary  life 
for  reason  everyone  regrets,  is  back  again, 
bringing  his  sheaves  of  questions  with  him. 
Has  in  leisure  time  cultivated  added  sepul- 
chralness  of  voice.  Ever  when  he  came  to 
the  crux  of  his  question — whether  it  related 
to  delayed  delivery  of  telegram  between 
Sanda  and  Stronsa,  whether  it  touched  on 
sewage  at  Stromness,  or  whether  it  retold 
some  story  of  town  council  iniquity  that 
had  of  late  lifted  with  indignation  the  hair 
on  Duncansby  Head — his  voice  was  heard 
apparently  issuing  from  his  boots. 

To-night  indignation  deeper  than  usual ; 
righteous  wrath  profounder ;  his  voice  has 
sought  even  lower  level.  Seems  as  if  h<> 
had  contrived  to  secure  a  portable  sub- 
terraneous apartment,  standing  on  whicl 
he  addresses  House.  You  see  him  rise  ;  re- 
gard House  to  right  and  left  with  severe 
look ;  fish  out  pince-nez  from  his  bosom  ; 
with  wide  sweep  of  right  arm  place  it  on 
his  nose.  Then  is  heard  a  subterraneous 
rumbling  which,  gradually  rising  to  level  of 
his  boots,  becomes  more  or  less  articulate. 

His  soul  just  now  seared  by  PRINCE 
ARTHUR'S  iniquity  in  appropriating  time  of 
private  Members  for  purposes  of  Education 
Bill.  He  has  first  place  next  Tuesday  for 
an  epoch-making  resolution.  A  Ministry 
that  has  not  feared  to  flout  France  and  rile 
Russia  on  Egyptian  question  recks  nothing 
of  an  act  or  petty  larceny  at  expense  of 
GALLOWAY  WEIR.  But  they  shall  hear  from 
him;  and  they  do,  though  withal  indis- 
tinctly, owing  to  the  subterranean  oratori- 
cal convenience  hinted  at.  After  rumbling 
had  gone  on  for  five  minutes,  sometimes 
spluttering  above  cellar  lid,  qftener  falling 
hopelessly  below  it,  SPEAKER  interposed. 

"I  have  great  difficulty  in  hearing  the 
hon.  Member,  but,"  he  added,  blandly,  "  I 
am  under  the  impression  that  he  is  out  of 
order." 

House  roared  with  delight  at  this  novel 
application  from  the  Chair  of  the  process 
of  induction.  The  shaft  went  home ;  the 
rumbling  noise  proceeded  for  a  few  minute? 
with  growing  hesitancy;  it  ceased,  and 
Members  looking  up  discovered  that  Mr. 
WEIR,  having  apparently  finished  his 
speech,  had  resumed  his  seat. 

Business  done. — Second  Reading  of  Edu- 
cation Bill  moved. 

House  of  Lords,  Friday. — LONDONDERRY 
broke  out  to-night ;  harrowed  ASHBOURNE'S, 
feelings  ;  harried  ARRAN;  played  the  Doose 
generally.  And  all  about  GERALD  BAL- 


COOKED    ACCOUNTS. 

Extract  from  old  Fitzbadly's  Letter  to  a  Friend,  describing  a  run  in  the  Midlands : — "I  WAS 

WELL   FORWARD   AT  THE   BROOK,    BUT   LOST  MY   HAT,    AND   HAD  TO   DISMOUNT.' 


FOUR.  It  appears  that  WILLIAM  O'BRIEN 
— and  really  we  didn't  know  it  till  LON- 
DONDERRY gave  him  bold  advertisement — • 
has  been  making  a  speech  in  Ireland  de- 
nouncing land-grabbing.  W.  O'B.  must  do 
something.  An  Irish  politician  cannot  live 
by  the  memory  of  shed  breeches,  disposed 
of  in  whatsoever  patriotic  circumstance. 
With  TIM  HEALY  starting  a  new  daily  paper, 
JOHN_  DILLON'S  name  appearing  every 
morning  in  the  Parliamentary  reports, 
and  _JOHN  REDMOND  coming  home,  other 
patriots  must  do  something. 

From  the  battlements  of  his  castellated 
home  in  Ireland  WILLIAM  O'BRIEN  waves 
towards  Lord  LONDONDERRY  a  handkerchief 
wet  with  grateful  tears.  His  noble  friend 
made  him  the  subject  of  debate  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  where  TIM'S  name  hasn't 
been  mentioned  in  the  present  Parliament, 
and  DILLON'S  is  never  heard. 

True,  LONDONDERRY  not  thinking  of 
O'BRIEN  ;  wanted  to  strike  at  GERALD  BAL- 
FOUR  with  back-handed  blow  at  PRINCE 
ARTHUR.  When  the  latter  was  Chief  Sec- 
retary, he  said,  speeches  of  this  kind  were 
promptly  followed  by  indictment.  Now 
GERALD  holds  the  office  treason  (to  land- 
lords) stalks  with  impunity.  As  to  which 
is  right  let  the  brothers  settle  between 
themselves. 

This  all  very  well  for  outburst  of  ex-vice- 


regal temper.  But  in  beating  at  the 
BALFOUHS  the  Marquis  has  simply  suc- 
ceeded in  obliging  O'BRIEN. 

Business  done.  —  Lord  LONDONDERRY, 
pouring  water  down  crater  of  effete  vol- 
cano, makes  it  splutter  in  fashion  suggest- 
ive that  it  is  still  alive. 


A  Puzzle  in  Horticulture. 

Little  Chris.  Daddy,  what  makes  onions  ? 
Daddy.  Seeds,  of  course. 
Little  Cfiris.  Then  what  makes  seeds  ? 
Daddy.  Onions. 

Little    Chris   (triumphantly].    Then   why 
don't  us  feed  the  canary  on  onions  ? 

[Discomfiture  and  rttreat  nf  Daddy. 


Couplet  by  an  Angry  Celt. 

(After  reading  an  Amusing  Paper  on  "  The 
Celtic  Renascence"  in  "Blackwood.") 

OF  old  great  painters  limned,  great  poet? 

sang ; 
Now  Art  is  LONG,  and  Literature  is  LANG  ' 


THE  CENTRE  OF  GRAYY-TATER-TION. — 
The  middle  of  a  leg  of  mutton  roasting 
over  potatoes. 


FEBRUARY  27,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


97 


WHY    TAKE    A    CHILL! 

IF  TOUR  TRAIN  is  NOT  HEATED   BY  PIPES,  GET  PLENTY  OF  FOOT- 

WAIIMKRS,    AS   ALGY  ANI>   BE  ITY   DID.       SlT  ON   ONE,    PUT  YOUR  FEET 

(iv  ANOTHER,  A  COUPLE  AT  YOUR  BACK,  AND  ONE  ON  YOUR  LAP, 
AND  YOU  'l.I,  GET  TO  YOUR  DESTINATION  AS  THEY  DID — WARM  AS 
MUFFINS  ! 


AT  THE  HUNT  BALL. 

(The  Sad  Complaint  of  a  Man  in  Black.) 

O  MOLLY,  dear,  my  head.  I  fear,  is  going  round  and  round, 
Your  cousin  isn't  in  the  hunt,  when  hunting  men  abound ; 
A  waltz  for  me  no  more  you  '11  keep,  the  girls  appear  to  think 
There  's  a  law  been  made  in  favour  of  the  wearing  of  the  pink. 
Sure  I  met,  you  in  the  passage,  and  I  took  you  by  the  hand. 
And  snys  I,  "  How  many  dances,  MOT.LY,  darlint,  will  ye  stand  ?  " 
But  your  card  was  full,  you  said  it  with  a  most  owdacipus  wink, 
And  I  'm  "  hanging "  all  your  partners  for  the  wearing  of  the 
pink ! 

You  'd  a  waltz  for  CHARLIE  THBUSTER,  but  you  "d  divil  a  one  for 

me, 

Though  he  dances  like  a  steam-engine,  as  all  the  world  may  see  ; 
'Tis  an  illigant  divarsion  to  observe  the  crowd  divide, 
As  he  plunges  down  the  ball-room,  taking  couples  in  his  stride. 
'Tis  a  cropper  you  'II  be  coming,  but  you  know  your  business  best, 
Still,  it 's  bad  to  see  you  romping  round  with  CHARLIE  and  the 

rest ; 
Now  you  're  dancing  with  Lord  ARTHUR — sure,  he  's  had  enough 

to  dhrink — 
And  I  'm   "  hanging "  all  your  partners  for  the  wearing  of  the 

pink ! 

Your  cruelty  ashamed  you  'II  be  someday  to  call  to  mind. 
You  Ml  be  glad  to  ask  my  pardon,  then,  for  being  so  unkind, 
The  hunting  men  are  first,  to-night — well,  let  them  have  their 

whack — 
You  '11  be  glad  to  dance  with  me,  someday — when  all  the  coats 

are  black ! 

But,  since  pink  's  the  only  colour  now  that  fills  your  pretty  head, 
Bedad,  I  '11  have  some  supper,  and  then  vanish  home  to  bed. 
'Tis  the  most  distressful  ball-room  I  was  ever  in,  I  think, 
And  I  'm   "  hanging  "  all  your  partners  for  the  wearing  of  the 

pink ! 


AFTER  THE  ESTIMATES  AUK  OVER. 

(Page  from  "  Th*,  Story  of  the  /ntxut'on  of  Entjl'iml  in  19 — .") 

DOVER  had  fallen.  The  coal-mine*  discovered  in  the  bed  be- 
neath the  abandoned  Channel  Tunnel  were  supplying  the  in- 
vaders with  unlimited  fuel.  Ramsgate,  always  g:iy,  was  (although 
in  the  hands  of  the  enemy)  the  scene  of  a  most  exciting  regatta. 
Margate  was  fairly  cheerful,  and  if  Herne  Bay  were  dull  its  con- 
dition was  only  normal.  The  Fleet,  owing  to  a  fault  in  the 
machinery,  was  on  its  way  to  the  West  Indies.  Instead  of 
"Attack  the  Enemy,"  the  signal  had  been  given,  "Fly  to 
Jamaica."  Immediately  at  full  speed  (two  hundred  and  fifty 
knots  an  hour)  the  battleships  had  departed  in  the  wrong  direc- 
tion. The  breakdown  of  the  engine  in  the  signalling-room  on,  the 
Admirals  flagship  rendered  the  summons  of  recall  practically 
impossible.  So  the  coast  of  England,  left  unguarded  by  its 
nautical  defenders,  had  fallen  an  easy  prey  to  the  foreign  hosts. 
True  the  Guards  had  done  their  best,  receiving  from  time  to 
time  telephonic  messages  of  encouragement  from  their  comrades 
at  Gibraltar.  True  the  Line  had  supported  the  Household 
Brigade  most  admirably.  True  the  Militia  (represented  by  the 
7th  Rifle  Brigade  and  the  4th  Cheshire)  and  the  Volunteers  (in 
the  persons  of  the  Inns  of  Court  and  the  3rd  Middlesex  Artillery) 
had  performed  prodigies  of  valour.  But  it  had  been  of  no  avail. 
The  South  coast  was  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  and  Eastern 
Scarborough  and  Western  Cardiff  were  trembling  to  their  founda- 
tions. 

No  time  was  lost  by  the  invaders  to  march  on  London.  They 
paused  for  a  moment  to  inspect  Canterbury  Cathedral  (courte- 
ously thrown  open  by  the  Dean  and  Chapter),  and  .pent  a  few 
days  in  the  novel  amusement  of  sea-bathing  at  Birchington. 
But  after  this  the  advance  became  a  stern  matter  of  business 
rather  than  a  pleasure  excursion.  Place  after  place  fell  as  the 
army  approached.  Every  town,  every  village  proved  to  be 
empty.  There  were  no  inhabitants,  and  as  a  natural  conse- 
quence no  provisions.  When  tie  invading  commander-in-chief 
reached  Chatham  he  was  more  than  hungry.  This  town,  like  the 
others,  was  deserted.  All  the  restaurants  were  closed,  and  every 
tavern  dismantled.  Suddenly  there  was  a  shout  of  joy.  An  enor- 
mous warehouse,  marked  with  the  Government  "  broad  arrow," 
was  found  crammed  with  provisions.  The  invaders  sat  down  to 
a  hearty  breakfast.  Full  of  renewed  energy  they  started,  and  at 
St.  Mary  Cray  (reached  at  1  P.M.)  discovered  a  second  empo- 
rium. They  lunched  adequately,  and  found  a  third  at  Herne 
Hill,  and  stayed  at  that  delightful  spot  for  dinner.  An  easy 
stroll  in  the  cool  of  the  evening  brought  them  to  Brixton,  where 
they  found  a  building  like  its  fellows  replete  with  every  gastro- 
nomic luxury.  They  enjoyed  their  supper.  The  next  morning 
when  the  advancing  host  marched  upon  85,  Fleet  Street  (where 
serious  opposition  was  expected),  the  commander-in-chief  of  the 
aliens  expressed  his  entire  satisfaction  with  the  arrangements  of 
the  Government  of  1897  in  establishing  "  block-houses  "  for  the 
sustenance  of  invaders  en  route  for  London. 


Brother  Jonathan's  Jingoes. 
IT  seems  to  come  to  this,  one  grieves  to  state, 

That,  after  all  the  genial  gush  and  chatter, 
These  Jingoes  are  prepared  to  arbitrate 

Only  about  such  things  as  do  not  matter ; 
Leaving  all  matters  that  material  are 
To  the  old  Arbiter— red,  ruthless  war! 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

MR.  DRUUY  FORTNUM'S  historical  treatise  of  the  glazed  and 
enamelled  earthenwares  of  Italy  leaves  nothing  more  to  bo  said 
in  the  matter  of  majolica.  "  StniMca"  he,  as  precise  in  matters 
of  spelling  as  was  Sam  Keller's  father,  names  the  volume  turned 
out  with  the  perfected  art  peculiar  to  the  Oxford  University 
Press.  The  objects  critically  and  historically  considered  are  the 
glazed  and  enamelled  pottery  produced  in  Italy  during  the  latter 
decades  of  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries.  To  the  connois- 
seur or  collector  the  book  is  invaluable.  The  untutored  reader 
grows  fascinated  as  he  turns  over  the  pages,  and  learns  all  about 
these  gems  of  a  lost  and  irreparable  art.  My  Baronite  learns 
with  re-ret  tint  tli.ie  MI e  nefarious  dealers  who  "cook"  repro- 
ductions of  the  ancient  wares  with  intent  to  make  them  look 
nld,  and  pass  them  off  on  the  unwary  as  originals.  They  have 
evidently  no  ehanee  with  Mr.  FORTNTJM.  The  volume  is  enriched 
with  exquisite  reproductions  of  the  most  famous  specimens  of  the 
Biuaenl  craft.  The  original  plates  are  for  our  betters.  Failing 
iM.^ession  of  them  the  twenty-one  "plates"  in  the  book  are  a 
delight  to  the  eye.  THE  BAROJT. 


VOL.     CXII. 


PUNCH,     OR     THE     LONDON     CHARIVARI.  [FEBRUARY  27,  1897. 


'FKBKUAKY  27,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


-V. 


BAD    LOOK-OUT. 


'Sportsman  (to  Friend  whom  he  has  mounted).  "FoR  OOODNESS'  SAKE,  OLD  CHAP,  DON'T  LET  HBR  PUT  YOU  DOWN!    SHI  's  CERTAIN 

TO  8AVAOB  YOU  !  " 


A  BILLKT  FROM  QUEEN  BESS. 

[It  is  rumoured  thut  Queen  ELIZABETH'S  ghost 
hu>  liiti-ly  Kirn  haunting  the  library  of  Windsor 

C'astlu.] 

GOOD  COUSIN  PUNCH, — When  I,  in  com- 
pany with  glorious  ANNA,  paid  you  a  visit 
in  your  sanctum  o'  New  Year's  Eve  (as  duly 
recorded  in  your  last  Preface),  you,  very 
sensibly,  took  it  as  a  matter  of  course. 
And  now  some  varlet  pedant,  at  our  old 
Royal  Residence  of  Windsor  Castle,  hath 
been  raising  a  hue-and-cry  for  that,  for- 
sooth, his  book-bleared  eyes  have  caught 
some  fleeting  glimpse  of  my  royal,  if  sha- 
dowy, presence  in  the  library  there  1 1 1 

What  more  natural  than  that,  in  this 
.-liiiiuj  Mirabilis  of  Victorian  Diamond  Ju- 
bilee, "  revisiting  the  glimpses  of  the 
moon  "  (as  WILL  of  Avon  hath  it),  I  should 
drop  in  fortuitously  at  that  towered  citadel 
by  silver  Tamise  which  cousin  VICTORIA  hon- 
ours with  Her  Royal  and  Imperial  presence  ? 

But,  worthy  coz,  it  hath  come  to  our 
royal  ear,  that  tliere  is  a  talk  of  setting  the 
1'siH'ltical  Society  on  our  Spectral  track!!! 
Body  o'  me,  and  beshrew  the  bungling 
boors,  if  they  come  poking  their  pedagog- 
ish,  impertinent  noses  into  my  "psychical  " 
peregrinations,  "  By  heaven,  I  "11  make  a 
ghost  of  him  that  lets  me ! "  May  not  a 
royal  lady  take  her  walks  abroad — "  my 
custom  always  in  the — evening  "—without 
being  pestered  by  the  pettyfogging  pryings 
and  perquisitions  of  amateur  ghostseers 
and  sapient  bogey-hunters  P 

Undesirous  of  disturbing  my  dear  Gos- 
sip's slumber  at  this  hour  in  the  morning, 
We  have  written  this  message  from  the 
Shades  on  your  studio  window-pane,  with 
a  diamond  ring,  as  aforetime  in  the  legend 
whereof  you  will  wot.  ELIZABETH  R. 


"WANTED!" 

WANTED  !  a  man  with  all  attainments  blest, 
Who  '11  work  with  energy  and  toil  with  zest, 
Whose  path  through  life  has  been  one  long 

exam 

On  banks  of  Isis,  or  on  sluggish  Gam. 
A  man  who's  skilled  in  ancient  Latin  lore; 
And  over  Greek  Iambics  loves  to  pore ; 
Binomial  Theorem,  and  "cot"  and  "tan" 
Must  be  familiar  to  this  sought-for  man  : 
With  French  and  German,  both  beyond. re- 
proach, 

For,  in  these  subjects,  he  will  have  to  coach 
The  budding  hopes  of  England's  Empire 

great, 
Whose  minds  must  guide  and  hands  uphold 

the  State. 
To  keep  in  touch  with  Time's  progressive 

tread 

Commercial  Subjects  must  be  widely  read, 
Tho  <<  Yost"  he  must  with  skill  manipulate, 
Pitman's  Shorthand"  clearly  demon  - 


The 
And 


strate.  [wood, 

He  then  must  train  the  boys  to  carve  in 
Experimental  Science,  if  he  could  ; 
Pianoforte  and  Singing  he  must  teach, 
And,  if  in  orders,  -would  be  asked  to  preach ; 
A  good  athlete,  a  football  (socker)  blue 
Would  be  preferred,  and  find  employment. 

too 
In  teaching  boys  to  "kick,"  and  "  shoot," 

and  "  pass," 

When  not  engaged  with  some  or  other  class. 
So  now.  ye  paragons  in  human  guise. 
Make  haste!  for  he,  who  gains  this  glorious 

rrize,  [clear, 

then  receive,  the  facts  are  plain  and 
The  noble  sum  of  "  Forty  pounds  a  year." 


ELEMENTARY. 

MR.  HENRY  SEDGWICK  has  published  a 
learned  book,  entitled  The  Elements  of 
Politics.  It  seems  to  Mr,  Ptmch  that  it 
hardly  requires  a  lengthy  treatise  to  de- 
scribe the  "elements"  of  modern  politics. 
Like  the  "elements"  of  Irish  toddy,  they 
seem  to  consist  of  (party)  spirit,  hot 
water,  and  the  lemon-aid  of  acidity.  "  The 
ructions  and  the  elements  they  charm 
me,"  sings  the  Hibernian  bard  of  "Bally- 
hooly."  And  in  politics  the  "elements" 
and  the  "ructions  are  certainly  found  to- 
gether— especially  in  Irish  politics.  Paro- 
dying a  verse  of  that  song,  we  may  say  :  — 
There  'i  a  moral  to  my  song, 
And  it  won't  detain  ye  long : 

Avoid  strong  dlirink  of  ivery  description  ; 
But  if  the  foe  ye  M  queer, 
And  arouse  your  Party's  cheer, 

Here '«  a  timperwnce  (political;  prescription  ! 
Say  the  sugar  3  e  have  got, 
And  the  waiher,  fulmy  kot, 

Wid  the  Union,  wit  and  satire,  blinded  duly  ; 
Then,  stronger  than  poteen, 
Tow  a  dose  of  factious  spleen. 

Faix  !   they  call  it  "  Politics  "—in  Ball)  - 
hooly. 

FROM  OUR  OWN  IRREPRESSIBLE  JOKER 
(who  hat  apparently  ujiitu  brvkfn  bondt). — 
y.  Why  may  we  assume  that  the  Pheni- 
cians  were  the  inventors  of  cycling  and 
billiards:'  A.  Because  two  of  their  prin- 
cipal cities  were  called  Tyre  and  Sid(e)on. 

NEW  READING  OF  AN  OLD  SAW.— 'VVIu  n 
Greek  meets  Turk  then  comes  the  Euro- 
pean tug  of  war.  

AXIOM  BY  A  HOSPITABLE  MAN.  —  Good 
weeds  go  apace. 


100 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[FEBRUARY  27,  1897. 


WHAT,    NO    SOAP?" 


Mamma.  "GOOD  GRACIOUS,  TOMMY!    WHEN  DID  YOU  WASH  LAST? 

YOU  ARE  SIMPLY   DREADFUL  !      YOU   HAVEN'T   WASHED  SINCE   BREAK- 
FAST,  I  'M  SURE." 

Tummy.   "  DOBS    IT    snow,    MOTHER?"      ( With  relish.)      "How 

JOLLY  BLACK  OLD  NANSEN   MUST   HAVE  BEEN  !  " 


THE    WOTHERSPOONS. 

A  STORY  IN  SCENES. 
I. 

SCENE— A  secluded  part  of  Kensington  Gardens.  It  is  a  morning  in  late 
September.  Mr.  SPENCER  WOTBEHSPOON,  a  mild,  fresh-coloured 
bachelor  of  fifty,  with  a  general  air  of  good-natured  simplicity,  is 
seated  on  a  bench,  in  conversation,  with  MERCY  MARIIIOLI).  Hhe  is  an 
auburn-ltaired,  cream  and  rose  complexioned  girl  of  about  twenty- 
three,  and  wears  a  becoming  pearl- yiey  and  white  costume,  with  small 
bonnet  and  floating  veil,  not  unlike  tluU  of  a  hospital  sister.  By  her 
side  is  a  baby-carriage,  containing  a  sleeping  infant. 

Mr.  Wotherspuvn.  But — but,  bless  my  soul,  why  ?  Why  am  I 
not  to  stop  and  speak  to  you  auy  more '?  Ah !  I  think  I  see. 
I  'in  getting  a  prosy  old  bore,  and  you  've  had  enough  of  me  eh  " 
is  that  it  '1 

Mercy.  Oh  no,  indeed,  Sir.  Anything  but  that.  I  'm  sure  it 's 
very,  very  kind  of  a  gentleman  like  you  to  show  such  interest  in 
a  poor  friendless  little  nurse  ! 

you, 

morning 
especially   now   my 


Mr.  Woth.  Kind:'     Nonsense,  my  dear.     Why,  I  assure 
find  myself  positively  looking  forward  to  theso  little  mor 
chats.     1  'm   rather   a   solitary   old   fellow— especially   now   ^} 
r  's  away—  and  it 's  a  very  great  pleasure  to  me  to  stop  on 
vay  up  to  the  City  for  a  few  minutes'— well,   for  half  an 


solitary   old   fellow 
sister  ' 

my  way     __  ^ 

hour's— conversation  with  anyone  who  is  kind'  enough  to  take 
compassion  on  my  loneliness. 


Mercy.  I  wonder  why  you  always  will  talk  as  if  you  were  old, 
when  you  're  not  a  bit  old,  really  ! 

Mr.  Wuth.  (with  a  siyh).  Ah,  my  dear,  I'm  old  enough  to  be 
your  father,  i  'm  sorry  to  say. 

Mercy.  Are  you  'i  I  'm  sure  no  one  would  ever —  But  why 
are  you  sorry  ? 

Air.  Woth.  Because But  there,  age  has  its  compensations 

after  all.     For  instance,  if  I  were  a  young  fellow,  I  couldn't  stay 
talking  to  you  like  this,  morning  after  morning. 

Mercy  (innocently}.  Couldn't  you  ?     Why  not  ? 

Mr.    It'oth.    (perplexed).    Well,  it   might  be But  you've 

never  told  uio  why  you  want  me  to  go  up  to  town  some  other 
way  in  future,  and  not  to  take  any  notice  of  you. 

Mercy.  Oh,  but  I  don't.  Only,  you  said  three  weeks  ago,  soon 
after  we  first  got  acquainted,  that  you  were  thinking  of  going 
away  to  the  seaside  before  long. 

Mr.  Woth.  Did  I  ?  I  daresay,  my  dear,  I  daresay.  You  see, 
my  sister  is  away  at  Scarborough,  and  I  rather  thought  she  might 
be  feeling  lonely  without  me — we  've  never  been  separated  so 
long  before,  you  know — but  somehow,  what  with  my  partner 
taking  his  holiday,  and  one  thing  and  another,  I — well,  I  kept 
on  putting  it  off,  and  now  she 's  coming  home  in  a  day  or  two. 

Mercy.  L  'm  so  afraid— you  won't  think  it  very  conceited  of  me 
— that  you  didn't  go  because — well,  a  little  because  of  me. 

Mr.  Woth.  No,  no,  my  dear,  quite  a  mistake  ;  at  least,  I  'm 
not  fond  of  fashionable  watering-places,  you  see,  and  HENKI- 
ETTA,  my  sister,  seemed  to  be  getting  on  very  well  without  me, 
and  besides,  there  was  the  business  to  look  after. 

Mercy.  And  you  ought  to  be  looking  after  it  now,  instead  of 
wastiug  your  time  talking  to  me  ! 

Mr.  Woth.  Oh,  everything  's  slack  just  now,  my  dear.  I  shall 
get  up  to  the  office  in  plenty  of  time  for  all  there  is  to  do ;  so,  if 
that 's  your  only  reason 

Mercy.  Ah,  but  it  isn't. 

[A  foreign- looking  young  person  passes,  with  an  amused  side- 
ylance  at  MEKCY,  who  flushes  suddenly. 

Mr.  Woth.  Do  you  know  that  young  woman  ? 
she  thought  she  knew  you. 

Mercy.  Did  she  ?     She  looked  at  both  of  us. 
thought  you  were — we  were 

Mr.  Woth.  Why,  what  could  make  her  think  that  ? 
absurd,  you  know,  too  absurd  ! 

a  servant.     Still, 
euian  farmer,  and  if 

money,  1  should  never  have  had  to  earn  my 
own  living. 

Mr.   Woth.  I  know,  my  dear,  I  know.     And — er 
degraded  by  honest  work.     Quite  the  contrary. 

Mercy.  If  you  knew  how  hard  it  is,  you  wouldn't  say  so.  I 
have  both  the  nursery  grates  to  do,  and  all  the  sewing  for  Baby, 
and  it 's  spoiling  my  hands,  I  'm  sure  it  is.  Look  ! 

[SAe  extends  her  hand  in  him. 

Mr.  Woth.  (inspecting  it).  Upon  my  word,  I  can't  detect  the 

least (To  himself.)     Odd  that  I  never  noticed  before  what  a 

remarkably  pretty  hand  it  is  !     It 's  an  infernal  shame  she  should 
have  to But  there,  it  's  no  business  of  mine — no  business  of 

ine! 

Mercy  (exhibiting  a  pink  palm).  It 's  all  very  well  to  say  that ; 
but  I  used  to  be  so  proud  of  my  hands,  and  they  're  getting  quite 
hard.  Just  feel. 

Mr.  Woth.  (without  availing  himself  of  the  invitation).  Any 
young  lady  might  be  proud  of  them  now,  my  dear.  (  With  an 
f/ort.)  And,  unless  I  'm  greatly  mistaken,  somebody  will  be 
asking  you  to  give  him  that  little  hand  of  yours,  long  before  it 
has  time  to  harden. 

Mercy.  Somebody  ? 

Air.  Woth.  Some  lucky  young  rascal  who I  daresay  he  has 

come  forward  already '? 

Mercy.  I'm  not  very  likely  to  have  a  proposal  from  anyone  but 
butlers  and  valets  and  people  of  that  sort ;  and  though  I  suppose 
I  ought  to  forget  what  I  have  been,  I  couldn't  bring  myself  to — 
And  if  ever  I  many,  it  will  have  to  be  someone  I  could  look  up 
io— somebody  older  and  wiser  than  me.  I  didn't  mean  to  tell 
you  all  this,  but  it  doesn't  matter ;  it 's  the  last  time  I  shall  ever 
meet  you. 

Mr.  Woth.  I  can't  for  tho  life  of  mo  see  why  it  should  bo  the 

st  time. 

Mercy.  Because,  if  I  must  tell  you — because  one  of  tho  servants, 
who  hates  mo,  found  out  that  you  were  in  the  habit  of  stopping 


aosura,  you  Know,  too  absurd  ! 

Mercy.  Of  course,  I  'm  only  a  nurse  now- 
I  'm  a  lady  by  birth.  My  papa  was  a  geutlei 
he  hadn't  lost  all  his  money,  I  should  never  hi 


She  looked  as  if 

I  'm  afraid  she 
[SAe  stops  short. 
It 's  too 


-no  one  is 


KKHHUAHY  27,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


101 


,o  say  a  fuw  kind  words  to  mo  every  morning,  and  told  her  mis- 
.ress,  and  she  .said  if  .she  ever  heard  of  it  happening  again,  I 
should  l>c  wnt  nway  without  a  character. 

Mi-.  H'uth.  Sent  away!  Gracious  heavens,  what  possible 
liuriu  can  there'  lie  in  just 

M<-rcy.  1  can't  think.  But  she  said  I  ought  not  to  allow  a 
stranger  to  talk  to  me  like  that.  As  if  I  could  help  it '. 

Mr.  Wuth.  Why,  it  was  the  merest  chance.  1  had  been  taking 
.  i. -.1.  on  this  seat  it  was  a  very  hot  morning,  I  remember — and 
I  should  ha\v  ;;nt  up  and  gone  on  without  even  noticing  you  were 
theie,  only  you  happened  to  drop  your  ball  of  knitting,  or  what- 
ever it  was,  and,  naturally,  1  picked  it  up. 

Mini/.  I  told  her  exactly  how  it  was;  but  she  said  that  no 
honourable  gentleman  would  take  such  notice  of  a  girl  in  my 
position,  unless — unless — no,  I  can't  go  on. 

Air.    Woth.  (ituiiyiiuittly).    What  vUe   minds    some  people 

No,  MEKCY  my  dear,  she  's  right,  I  'm  afraid ;  right,  at  least,  as 
the  world  goes.  1  've  acted  foolishly,  wrongly.  I  ought  to 

have   thought  that,  even  at  my  time  of  life II  you  had 

only  told  me  all  this  before  !  1  would  have  gone  away,  anything 
rather  than 

Mercy.  1  know.  But— but  I  didn't  want  to  lose  the  only  friend 
I  had. 

Mr.  Wuth.  (rtmontfuliy).  I  meant  to  be  your  friend,  my  dear; 
but  the  truest  friendship  1  can  show  you  now  ia  to  go  away.  I 
can't  let  you  run  any  further  risk  of  losing  your  situation. 

Mercy.  Oh,  1  've  lost  that  by  this  time. 

Mr.  Wuth.  Lost  it!     Howl- 

Mercy.  You  remember  that  woman  passing  just  now  ;  that  was 
ANNETTE,  the  French  maid.  She  came  on  purpose  to  spy  upon 
me,  and  by  the  tiuiu  1  take  Baby  home — 

Mr.  Wi't/i.  (in  •/,•</>  dintrcu).  It's  devilish,  perfectly  devilish! 
And  to  think  that  1 —  liut,  my  poor  child,  what  will  you,  Ao'f 

Mercy  (recklessly).  Oh,  /  don't  know.  I  shan't  go  into  service 
again.  Got  an  engagement  as  barmaid,  perhaps,  or  else  as  chorue 
girl.  I  can  sing  a  little,  and  I  'vo  been  told  I  've  rather  a  good 
figure.  I  shall  get  along  somehow. 

Mr.  Wuth.  No,  no,  you  mustn't  do  that.  I— I  couldn't  stand 
it.  :  .  .  ( With  a  sudden  impulse.)  MEKCY,  1 — I  thought  I  felt 
nothing  but  a  sort  of  fatherly  interest  in  you ;  but  I  know  now 
it  was  more  than  that,  it 's  more  than  that.  And— my  dear,  il 
you  can  only  care  enough  for  me  to — to  be — my  wife.  .  .  . 
wouldn't  for  the  world  put  any  kind  of  pressure  upon  you,  or — 
or  seem  to  take  any  advantage ;  but,  upon  my  worn,  I  don't  see 
what  else  can  be  done.  If  you  would  like  time  to  think  over  it 
carefully 

Mercy.  As  if  I  wanted  any  time  to  think  over  that  I  Why,  ol 
course  1  '11  be  your  wife,  as  soon  as  ever  you  choose ! 

LATKH. 

Mr.  Wuth.  (to  himself,  as  ht  walks  on  alone).  I  can  hardly  believe 

it.  No  more  idea  when  I  started  this  morning And  after  all 

these  years,  too !  But  1  'd  no  alternative — no  alternative ;  and 
I  don't  see  why  we  shouldn't  be  exceedingly  happy.  It  isn't  as  if 

dear  little  MEKC  Y  was  an  ordinary Still,  there 's  HENKIETTA. 

I  'in  afraid  1  may  have  some  trouble  with  HENRIETTA  at  first. 
However,  it  will  make  no  real  difference  to  her. 

Mercy  (to  the  child,  as  she  wheels  it  home).  Baby,  you  little  beast, 
you  won't  have  mo  for  your  slave  much  longer,  do  you  know  that '; 
Ah,  you  may  well  waggle  that  slack-baked  little  apple-dumpling 
of  a  head  of  yours.  1  did  manage  it  well,  didn't  I,  Baby  ?  But  J 
don't  believe  I  should  ever  have  got  him  to  the  point,  if  ANNKTTE 
hadn't  happened  That  gave  me  the  idea.  How  she  woulc 

laugh  if  1  told  her,  only  I  'm  not  such  a  goose  !  He  's  a  dear  simple 
old  thing,  and  he  swallowed  it  all.  I  'in  really  fond  of  him,  in  a 
way,  and  he  '11  let  me  do  exactly  us  I  please.  And  thojirst  thinj 
1  shall  do  after  wo  are  married  is  to  get  that  sister  of  his  out  ot 
the  house  ! 


Picked  up  in  the   House. 

o  be  a  specimen  of  a  New  Edition  vf  I'aetry  far  (Political) 

Vhiidrm.     Jly  "A  1'n-tict  Child." 
I  LOVE  Pussy  GrORSTY,  he  has  so  much  charm  ; 
And,  if  1  don't  snub  him,  he  'll  do  me  no  harm. 
And  yet,  entre  nous,  I  should  greatly  prefer 
If  Pussy  would  scratch  less,  and  not  (Maui)purr  I 

MORAL  OK   A  XBCKNT  '•  MONTH  CAJU.O  ROMANCE." — The  plum 
goes  to  the  Plummer. 


SONGS    AND    THEIR    SINGERS.     No.   X. 


KRUUER'S  LITTLE  CLAIM. 

[Indemnity  for  moral  or  iutellertunl  damages  caused  by  the  Jamewu 
Kaid— £322,001  lti».  SW.] 

THAT  odd  sixteeri-and-ninepence  is  the  latest  Boer  joke, 
Enough  to  make  the  Uitlander  with  fits  of  laughter  choke  I 
What  is  it  charged  for?  we  may  well  inquire  of  Uncle  PAUL  , 
The  items  should  be  specified  and  made  quite  clear  to  all. 

Is  it,  perhaps,  the  moral  loss  inflicted  by  the  T-m-s, 

When  printing  thirteen  months  ago  the  Poet-Laureate's  rhymei  ? 

Is  it  since  Mr.  RHODES'S  tongue  has  been  a  little  rude, 

In  talking  at  a  recent  date  of  "  unctuous  rectitude  "  f 

Or,  can  it  be  the  net  result  of  the  Emperor's  telegram  P— 
We  crave  for  further  details,  or  we  '11  think  the  bill 's  a  sham  I 
However,  when  accounts  like  this  are  sent,  'tis  pretty  plain. 
Some  intellectual  damage  has  been  done  to  KBUOEB'S  brain  I 

Tales  in  School. 

IT  is  suggested,  it  seems,  that  a  school  should  be  started  fo: 
giving  "  vocal    lessons   in   the  art    of   story-writing."     Splendid 
notion  I     One  difficulty,  however,  suggests  itself  to  J/r.  PuncA 
A'rti  y&odi/  writes  stories  now— with  or  without  lessons.     As  we 
are  "all  Socialists"  (as  Sir  WILLIAM  HABOOURT  said)  so  we  are 
all  story-writers  now.     It  is  to  be  feared  therefore  that,  as  the 
celebrated  German  regiment  was  "  all  officers,"  so  that  projected 
Story-writing  School  would  be  all  teachers  and  no  pupils. 


iTEiiARr  NOTE.— Sir  ROBERT  PEEL  must   have    been    beref 
of  his  Manners  when  he  took  the  family  name  of  the  Duke  ol 
RUTLAND  for  the  hero  of  his  romance. 


102 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[FEBRUARY  27,  1897. 


DAMPER. 


CluiMy  Barber.   "'Ow  WOULD  YOU  LIKE  TO  BE  SHAVED,  Sin?" 
Orumpi/  Customer.  "  IN  PERFECT  SILENCE,  PLEASK." 


BYRONICAL. 

A  VOICK  FIIOM  MISSOLONGHI. 

"  Know  ye  not 

Who  would  be  free  themselves  must  strike  the  blow  ? 
By  their  right  arms  the  conquest  must  be  wrought. 
Will  Gaul  or  Muscovite  redress  ye  ?  No  '  " 

Childe  Harold's  Pilyrim«i/e. 

Am—"  The  Isles  of  Greece." 

THE  Isles  of  Greece,  the  Isles  of  Greece ! — 
At  least  they  once  were  Grecian  Isles— 

'Tis  in  the  interests  of  Peace, 
Dodges  and  diplomatic  wiles 

Restrain  bold  hearts  that  chafe  and  fret, 

With  the  eternal  "  Halt !   Not  yet !  " 


The  Putney  and  the  Shoe  Lane  muse, 
The  Attic  harp,  the  Cockney  lute, 

A  chaunt  for  Crete  should  scarce  refuse ! 
Yet  ALFRED,  ALGERNON,  all  are  mute. 

Suits  it  the  new  Parnassian  trade 

To  sing  an  Anti-Moslem  Raid  ? 

So  ALFRED  looks  on  ALGERNON, 
On  ALFRED  gazes  great  A.  C. 

Could  England  dare  to  stand  alone, 
From  that  crass  Concert  were  she  free, 

A  Briton  yet  might  help  the  brave, 

Be  more  a  man  and  less  a  slave. 

A  bard  stood  on  the  rocky  brow 
Of  a  high  cliff  in  sea-born  Crete. 


Ships,  iron  monsters,  lays  below, 
A  sort  of  International  Fleet. 
He  counted  them  and  hoped  that  they 
Were  there  to  keep  the  Turk  at  bay. 

Why  are  they  there?    And  why  art  thou, 
My  country  V    On  thy  huckster  shore 

The  heroic  lay  is  tuneless  now, 
For  heroes  are  an  awful  bore. 

And  princes  brave  who  make  a  dash 

With  Powers'  plans  are  apt  to  clash  1 

'Tis  something,  in  the  dearth  of  fame, 
Amid  a  Mammon-ridden  race, 

To  voice  a  poet-patriot's  shame. 

Could  CANNING  stand  in  CECIL'S  place  1 — 

Faugh !  naught  is  left  for  Greece,  1  fear, 

But    BALFOUR'S     blush,    and    HARCOUKT'S 
tear. 

We  can  but  weep — and  dry  our  eyes! 

We  may  but  blush — and  turn  tne  head  I 
SILOMIO  sole  will  boldly  rise, 

And  BARTLETT  backs  the  Turk  instead. 
LBONIDAS — big,  brave  Prince  G. — 
Can't  make  a  new  Thermopylae  1 

What,  silent  still  ?  and  silent  all  ? 

Ah !  no ;  stern  voices  of  the  dead 
Sound  from  the  Past's  purpureal  pall, 

And  murmur,  "  Let  one  living  head, 
But  one,  arise  !     Could  we  but  come  i 
'Tis  but  the  living  who  are  dumb  I  " 

In  vain,  in  vain  1    Strike  other  chords! 

Chivalry  's  flat  as  uncorked  wine  1 
Let  the  relentless  Turkish  hordes 

These  classic  seas  incarnadine  1 
Each  Power  is  fear's  ignoble  thrall, 
They  fwnk  each  oilier,  one  and  all  I 

You  Ve  the  new  "  Pyrrhic  "  concert  yet, 
Where  's  the  old  Pyrrhic  phalanx  gone  '? 

Of  two  such  lessons  why  forget 
The  older  and  the  better  one  ? 

The  "  Harmony  "  old  ORPHEUS  gave, 

Can  it  be  tootled  by  a  slave  ? 

Fill  high  the  bowl  with  gooseberry  wine ! 

The  grape  's  unfit  for  themes  like  these. 
Wine  made  ANACRBON'S  song  divine  ; 

Ice-sublimed  sherbet,  sipped  at  ease, 
As  swigged  by  "  XERXES,  the  great  king," 
Best  suits  our  modern  boys  who  sing. 

Fill  high  the  bowl,  yet  not  with  wine, 
But  with  innocuous  poet-pap! 

Red  flows  the  heart-blood  of  the  vine, 
Hinting  of  war's  hot  thunder-clap. 

Red  suits  the  revel  or  the  fight, 

But  modern  blood  runs  milky-white  I 

Trust  not  for  freedom  to  the  Franks, 
Nor  to  JOHN  BULL,  who  buys  and  sells. 

In  native  swords  and  native  ranks 
The  only  hope  of  freedom  dwells  ! 

The  Turk  will  harry  you,  as  Giaours, 

And — well,  his  flag  flies  with  the  Powers! 

Fill  high  the  bowl  with — cowslip  wine  I 

Poets  pugnacious  idiots  are. 
But  politicians  will  decline 

To  run  the  risk  of  general  war. 
ROSEBERY  warns,  bland  BALFOUR  craves 
Patience — the  virtue  once  of  slaves ! 

Leave  me  on  Candia's  stony  steep, 
Where  nothing,  save  the  waves  and  I 

May  hear  our  mutual  muimurings  sweep. 
I  fancy  I  did  well  to  die 

Before  that  Concert  could  combine — 

Dash  down  yon  glass  of  gooseberry  wine  1 1 1 


SUGGESTED  HONOUR. — That  Dr.  NANSEN, 
after  his  related  Arctic  experiences,  ought 
to  be  made  a  Knight  of  the  Bath. 


PUNCH,   OH   THK   LONDON   CHAHI YAHI.  -FEBRUARY  27,  1897. 


NSt 


AGAINST  THE   GRAIN. 

• 

JOHN  BUIL  (leg.).  "  AH  !    THAT  GREEK  'S  A  PLUCKY  LITTLE  CHAP  !    PEECIOUS  8OBRY  THAT  ME  AND 

MY   FOR1N'   MATES  HAS  TO   STOP  HIM  ! " 


FEUKUAHT  27,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


105 


THE    GUARDS    AT    GIBRALTAR.     A    FORECAST. 

CAPTAIN  THE  HON.  CRASHER,  OF  LEICESTERSHIRE  (WEIGHT  SIXTEEN  STONE),  HAVING 
SENT  HIS  STUD  OF  WEIOHT-OAKRIERS  TO  THE  HAMMER,  LOOKS  ROUND  FOR  SOMETHING  TO 
CARRY  HIM  WITH  "  THE  CALPE."  HE  IS  ASSURED,  ON  THE  WORD  OF  AN  ENGLISHMAN — 
BORN  AT  GIBRALTAR— THAT  THIS  is  ONE  OF  THE  STRONGEST  HORSES  ON  THE  KOCK,  AND 

QUITE   UP  TO   HIS  WEIGHT. 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  BARBER. 

["  It  has  been  discovered  that  the  Ituntgen  rays 
possess  the  quality  of  destroying  human  hair,  while 
a  gentle  current  of  electricity  promotes  its  growth 
in  a  marked  degree  —  facU  of  which  a  practical  u»e 
will  be  made  iu  the  future."— Jjai/y  taper.] 

Fragments  of  conversation  in  a  hairdresser's  shop, 
as  recanted  by  our  own  prophetic  phonograph. 

READY  for  you,  Sir.  please  .  .  .  Ront- 
gened  and  shampooed,  Sir?  .  .  .  JAMES, 
kindly  step  this  way  with  the  induction 
coil,  and  mind  that  battery  don't  upset 
.  .  .  Allow  me  to  cover  your  moustache, 
Sir,  if  you  don't  wish  it  shortened  .  .  . 
Oh,  up,  Sir,  we  never  use  scissors  in  our 
establishment,  we  've  given  up  the  old- 
fashioned  ways  for  a  long  time  .  .  .  Head 
a  little  more  this  side,  please  .  .  .  Sensa- 
tion unpleasant?  But  then  consider  how 
scientific  it  is — what  would  our  ancestors 
have  said  if  they  could  have  seen  your  hair 
withering  away  before  their  very  eyes  ? 
.  .  .  Called  you,  a  silly  fool  f  Dear  me  no. 
Sir,  surely  not  ...  Is  that  short  enough  :- 
Thank  you  .  .  .  Shampoo,  I  think  you 
said?  .  .  .  Jf'ufrr  iwt  too  cold?  We  don't 
use  water,  Sir,  nowadays — current  of  oxy- 
gen gas  fur  more  efficacious,  with  a  wash 
of  carbon  bisulphide  .  .  .  Head  a  little 
lower  —  thank  you  .  .  .  Yes,  gentlemen 
often  complain  of  the  smell  at  first,  but 
they  soon  get  accustomed  to  it — "  infernal 
stench  "  is  rattier  too  strong  a  term  for  it, 
if  you  will  excuse  me,  Sir  .  .  .  Soft  brush? 
You  can  have  the  40,  70,  or  100-volt  gal- 
vanic power,  but  the  wires  are  just  the 


same  in  each  .  .  .  Pray  sit  still,  Sir — 
you  've  kicked  a  hole  in  the  dynamo-  il  the 
current  is  too  strong  I  can  modify  it  ,  .  . 
What  will  you  have  on?  Brilliantinet 
We  don't  use  it,  nowadays.  I  'U  apply  a 
lit  t  le  of  our  sulphuric  acid  wash  .  .  Sir,  1 
put  it  to  you,  how  can  I  do  you  justice 
and  finish  your  hair  tastefully  with  you 
jumping  up  and  running  rouud  the  shop 
swearing  like  that  ?  Why,  yes,  it  does  burn, 
as  you  say,  but,  aa  I  told  you,  think  01 
the  science  of  it  1  The  free  hydrogen  of  the 
acid  combines  with  the  oxygen  to  form — 
shut  my  jawt  Aa  you  please,  Sir;  I  was 
only  endeavouring  to  interest  you  in  the 
chemical  reaction  going  oil  on  your  head. 
It 's  wonderful  to  think  how  some  persons 
despise  the  benefits  given  us  by  the  pro- 
gress of  science — seetua  like  ingratitude  to 
f  royideuce,  doesn't  it  ?  ...  Your  hail 
getting  very  thin  on  the  top.  A'«  wonder, 
after  1  've  been  playing  fool't  tricks  with 
it  t  Not  at  all,  Sir ;  it  '»  hasty  temper 
which  does  it.  Allow  me  to  put  you  up 
one  of  our  Uirsutine  Galvanic  Butteries, 
which  conveys  the  electric  iluul  in  a  speedy 
and  effectual  form  to  the  follicles  at  the 
roots  of  ...  \\ell,  at  any  rate  it  won't 
cost  you  nothing  to  look  at  it  ...  You 
just  attach  these  wires  to  the  scalp  for  two 
or  three  hours  every  morning,  and  the 
effect  is  wonderful.  There 's  a  customer 
of  ours  who  bought  one  a  mouth  ago  ;  bald 
as  a  billiard-ball  his  head  was,  and  now — 
well,  his  own  mother  wouldn't  know  him  ! 
1'robubly  not,  as  he's  a  lunatic!  He,  he! 
You  must  have  your  joke,  Sir  I  But  I'll 
just  put  this  up  for  you,  it  costs  only  five 


guineas  and  .  .  .  Well,  of  course,  it 's 
tor  you  to  say,  and  if  you  like  to  grow  buld 
-  No,  Sir,  1  iu  uot  scraping  your  Ju'.ul 
with  needles.  The  piercing  sennit  ion  i-. 
due  to  the  magnetic  properties  of  our  pa- 
tent electric  comb,  which  is  recommended 
by  several  eminent  physicians.  .  .  As  1  was 
about  to  observe,  Sir,  the  grey  11  tits  of  your 
hair  can.  be  remedied.  V\e  strongly  re- 
commend the  use  of  our  Polarising  1'risms, 
which  are  concealed  in  the  hair,  and  cast 
a  beam  of  yellow  light  upon  it,  giving  it  a 
u.aiititul  flaxen  tint  which  ...1m  not 
forcing  you  to  buy  them,  and  there  's  no 
occasion  for  such  language  that  1  can  see 
.  .  .  Jliu-K  I  nearly  done  If  Yes,  Sir, 
quite  finished;  but  there's  a  little  electri- 
cal appliance  here  I  should  like  to  show 
you,  and  .  .  .  Very  well,  Sir — pay  in  the 
shop,  please  .  .  .  Good  morning,  Sir  I 


"THE  CHEMISTRY  UF  TEA." 

[Mr.  DAVID  CUOLK  recently  delivered  a  lecture 
before  the  Society  of  Arts  un  the  chemical  coiutl- 
lueuU  of  U  u.  lie  gave  a  truly  tormiuutile  lint  of 
•Midi  and  j>oioous.  J 

SCENE — -4  </anfc  room.     In  the  middle,  a  teapot. 
Thunder.     Eater  Thrte  Old  JJuida. 

First  Old  Maid. 
Tintu  K  the  brinded  cat  hath  mew'd. 

Second  Old  Maid. 
Thrice  1  there 's  something  in  the  wind. 

Third  Old  Maul. 
Mr.  CROLB  cries,  Time,  'tis  time. 

First  Old  Maid. 
Round  about  the  teapot  go  ; 
In  the  dire  ingredients  throw. — 
Pour  them  in,  and  stir  them  well, 
While  their  awful  names  you  tell ; 
Quite  a  tidy  little  lot, 
Flung  into  the  deadly  pot. 

All. 

Double,  double  toil  and  trouble ; 
Fire  burn  and  kettle  bubble. 

Second  Old  Maid. 
Call  the  items  one  by  one, 
Now  w»  '11  have  some  fearsome  fun : 
Acid  bring  and  alkaloid 
'    For  the  unholy  brew  employ'd. 
Empty  in  a  chemist's  shop, 
Kre  the  witches  frolic  stop, 
Tis  a  charm  of  powerful  trouble. 
See  our  hell-broth  boil  and  bubble. 

AU. 

Double,  double  dose  of  trouble 
Pour  into  our  bubble  bubble. 

Third  OU  Maid. 

Now  the  compound  may  begin — 
Assamin  and  quercitrin, 
Phloroglucin,  theophyllin, 
Shall  the  poisou-pot  be  fillin' ; 
Theobromine  helps  the  stew, 
Oxyhydroquinone,  too ; 
Then  the  horrid  mess  augment — 
Add  dioxy-one-per-cent.- 
Salicylic  and  benzene, 
With  boheic  acid  green  ; 
Last  let  gallic  drops  and  tannio 
Put  the  drinker  in  a  panic. 

All. 

Double,  double  toil  and  trouble, 
Fire  burn  and  kettle  bubble. 


AN    UNCONGENIAL  SPOT 
BBS. — Barmoutb . 


TMIOIAL- 


103 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[FKUHUAHY  27,  1 497. 


RECKLESS    EXTRAVAGANCE. 

Pepperby.   "I  'VE  BEEN  TALKING  TO  MY  WIFE,  AND  BEEN  GIVING  HER  A  BIT  OF  MY  MIND." 

Cynical  Candid  Friend.   "  FOLLOW  MY  ADVICE,  OLD  CHAP,  AND  DON'T  DO  THAT  TOO  OFTEN,  OR  YOU'LL  HAVE  NONE  LEFT  FOR  YOURSELF!" 


IMPROVING  LONDON. 

(By  an  Admirer  of  the  County  Council.) 
HAVB  just  heard  of  the  Council's  pro- 
posal now  before  Parliament  to  continue 
the  Chelsea  Embankment  beyond  Bat- 
tersea  Bridge.  Discover  article  on  it  in 
Times  of  the  2nd.  It  seems  there  is  a 
graceful  curve  of  the  river  bank  there,  open 
space,  old-fashioned  houses,  picturesque 
barges,  brown  sails,  HOOAKTH'S  "Line  of 
beauty,"  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  Now, 
I'm  a  practical  man,  and  hate  all  such 
useless  tomfoolery.  Rejoice  to  see  the 
Council  wants  to  make  the  bank  quite 
straight.  So  much  more  practical.  Get 
the  Thames  like  a  wide  canal.  "  Line  of 
beauty"  all  rubbish.  Also  to  build  on 
open  space,  concealing  old-fashioned  nouses 
by  practical  new  ones.  Probably  lofty 
flats.  How  much  better  than  having  a 
silly  garden  with  flowers,  or  anything  of 
that  maudlin  sort.  The  scheme  will  cost 
a  lot.  That's  unfortunate.  Not  so  very 
practical.  But  you  can't  make  improve- 
ments for  nothing. 

Begin  to  think  what  might  be  done  in 
other  parts.  There 's  an  astonishing  lot 
of  waste  space  in  London.  Look  at  Tra- 
falgar Square.  Who  goes  in  the  middle  P 
Why  not  build  the  new  Council  Hall  there  ? 
And  look  at  the  Parks.  What 's  the  good 
of  the  Serpentine?  Nothing  but  water! 
Why  not  drain  it  and  build  workmen's 
dwellings?  Then  look  at  the  Bayswater 
Road  and  the  Kensington  Road.  Both 
quite  crooked.  Make  them  quite  straight, 
and  build  houses  all  along  the  Park — good 


practical  houses,  all  exactly  alike  and  in 
a  straight  line.  Look  at  Kensington  Gar- 
dens. Nothing  but  a  lot  of  trees  I  Cut 
them  all  down  and  build  on  the  ground. 
Do  the  same  with  all  the  Parks.  The  land 
would  sell  for  enormous  sums.  Then  the 
present  streets  could  be  dealt  with,  and  all 
the  chief  ones  could  be  made  quite  straight, 
and  quite  flat,  and  150  feet  wide,  with  four 
lines  of  steam  tramways  along  each. 

That 's  what  I  should  like.  That 's  what 
I  call  practical.  Don't  tell  me  any  rub- 
bish about  Piccadilly  being  better  as  it  is. 
Why,  all  the  houses  are  different  1  And  all 
the  building  land  on  one  side  is  wasted  for 
the  sake  of  some  old  trees !  And  the  road 
varies  in  width,  and  it  isn't  flat  I  And 
there  isn't  even  one  tramway  I  Stuff  and 
nonsense,  I  say. 

So  I  'm  glad  the  Council  is  going  to 
build  on  one  open  space,  and  is  trying  to 
get  the  Thames  rather  straighter.  It 's  a 
good  beginning. 


A  DUET  OF  EX-CHANCELLORS. 

As  sung  by  Prince  Bismarck  and  Count  Caprin. 

(Dedicated,  without  permission,  to  Prince 
Holienlohe.) 

A  KING  is  a  thing 

You  should  pull  with  a  string 
In  a  sort  of  go-one-with-a-dot  dance, 

A  puppet  whose  motion 

Gives  rise  to  the  notion 
That  if  left  to  himself  he  would  not  dance. 

It's  a  very  nice  trick 

When  you  cause  him  to  kick, 


And   his  kicks   all   come   off  as   you   plan 

them, 

WTiile  a  jubilant  nation 
Gives  vent  to  elation 
By  shouting  the  National  Anthem. 
But  it 's  oh,  for  retirement,  it 's  ah,  for 

the  shelf, 

When  the  king  takes  his  own  string  and 
pulls  it  himself. 

For  it 's  then  that  a  Chan- 

-Cellor  feels  like  a  man 
In  a  painful  but  hardly  a  rare  case, 

A\hen,  his  heart  pit-a-patting, 

He  lands  on  the  matting, 
Having  stepped  where  there  wasn't  a  stair- 
case. 

For  the  king  knowing  best 

W7hen  his  servant  wants  rest 
Insists  on  retirement  as  vital, 

And  you  spend  your  remaining 

Few  years  in  complaining, 
With  an  "  ex  "  in  the  front  of  your  title — 
An   extra    accursed   which,     as     everyone 

knows, 

Destroys  peace  of  mind  while  it  gives  you 
repose. 

At  the   Grand  Hotel,   Paris. 

lilitliers  (of  romantic  turn  of  mind,  to 
SMITHERS,  after  observing  a  young  couple 
in  dose  conversation  in  the  court-yard).  I  'm 
sure  they're  engaged.  I  heard  her  call 
him  HARRY! 

Rmithers  (a  matter-of-fact  man).  What 
of  that  ?  I  call  my  housemaid,  EMILY  I 
He  's  most  probably  her  footman. 

[SMITHERS  calls  for  absintlie. 


FKHRDAHT  27,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


107 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTIIACTEI)    FROM    TUB     DlAKY    Or    ToBT,    M.P. 


Hi,  n«e  of  Commnm,  Mrmday,  Frl,ri"ir>/  \~>. 
-Afraid  when  I  saw  FRANK  I.OCKWOOD 
industriously  taking  notes  through  to- 
night's debate  on  Education  Bill,  he  would 
miss  opportunity  of  making  successful 
speech.  Rude  to  mention  names  ;  but 
House  well  knows  some  of  his  colleagues 
on  Front  Opposition  bench  whow  speeches 
are  smothered  —  "Overlain"  SAUK  calls  it 
—  by  preparation.  Fortunately  House 
pretty  full  when  the  Solicitor-  General  of 


closely  examined,  there  is  really 
nothing  in  the  speech  to  which  exception 
could  he  taken.  One  can  imagine  how  the 
MAKKISS,  studying  the  newspaiwsr  report, 
would  be  puzzled  to  understand  the  occa- 
sion of  the  "  laughter,"  "loud  laughter," 
"renewed  laughter."  recorded  at  every 
other  sentence.  On  any  other  stage, 
in  any  other  circumstances,  before  any 
other  audience,  the  speech  would  have 
been  an  ordinary  official  effort.  Hut  cir- 
cumstances were  compact :  the  actor,  the 
moment,  tho  stage,  the  audience. 

Btminets  done.— The  Vice-President   ex- 


thoHisolves  ciiitsiilo.  Tin---  du/fii.  faithful 
among  tho  faithless  found,  scorn  delights 
and  live  laborious  quarters  of  an  hour  listen- 
ing to  GENTLE-DULNESS.  Mrs.  G.-D.  and 

tln>  Mi<i-i-s  ( i  -I  I  .  MM  vying  lli"  -i -file  f HUM 
Ladies'  Gallery,  are  cheered  by  this  sign  of 
appreciation.  They  have  never  been  able 
to  make  out  how  it  is  that  Pa.  so  wise  at 
home,  so  authoritative  on  imperial  politics 
and  domestic  questions,  so  persuasive  in 
his  eloquence,  so  unanswerable  in  his 
argument,  should  be  so  little  regarded  in 
the  House  of  Commons.  Here  are  at  least 
a  dozen  who  know  his  full  value. 


GOKST,  ET  PRjETEREA  NIHIL ! 

"I  dnnot  know  (hut  I  have  a  right  to  speak  for  my  right  hon.  friend  the  First  Loid  of  the  Treasury,  who  is  not  here  at  present,  but  I  can  speak  as  far 
ic  COMMITTEE  of  Council  is  concerned  I "...  1*  The  Committee  of  Council  are  a  BODY  of  very  practical  men ! " — Sir  J-hn  G-r»t  in  Education  Debate. 


as  the 


two  successive  Governments  rose.  Drew 
hilarious  cheer  at  outset  by  chaff  of 
JOHN  o'  GORST.  Afterwards  all  went  well ; 
severely  disregarding  his  brief,  he  spoke 
brightly,  effectively,  on  subject  with  which 
he  is  intimately  familiar;  scored  unequi- 
vocal success. 

JOHN  o'  GORST  to  follow.  Long  time 
since  House  seen  such  delightful  bit  of 
high  comedy.  Everything  perfect — the 
passive  figure,  the  almost  wooden  expres- 
sion on  the  face  as  the  cheers  and  laughter 
rose  and  fell ;  the  subtle  modulation  of  the 
voice  investing  innocent  syllables  with 
barbed  point.  Nothing  lacking,  not  even 
PRINCE  ARTHUR,  evidently  anxious  but 
keenly  appreciative,  seated  close  by  his 
docile  colleague.  If  JOHN  o'  GORST  had 
in  early  life  taken  to  the  stage,  JOHXXIK 
HARE  would  have  had  to  look  out  for  his 
laurels.  The  crowning  success  is  that, 


plains  what  the   Committee  of  the  Privy 
Council  think. 

Tuesday.— No  one  looking  at  House  to- 
night when  debate  on  Education  Bill  was 
resumed  would  guess  how,  outside,  the 
great  heart  of  the  nation  was  throbbing 
with  excitement.  Benches  almost  empty  : 
listless  attitude  of  scanty  audience  varied 
here  end  there  by  figure  of  Member 
leaning  forward  with  hand  on  knee  intently 
watching  honourable  gentleman  on  his  legs. 
About  a  dozen  of  these,  an  appreciable 
proportion  of  the  so-called  House. 

The  kindly  heart  yearns  towards  them. 
Here,  at  least,  are  good  men  and  true,  who 
take  profound  interest  in  education  ques-  i 
tion ;  are  willing  to  add  from  any  source  to  ' 
their  knowledge  of  subject.     The  authority 
just  now  on  his  legs  may  be  prosy  and  prag- 
matical.    Less  conscientious  Members  have  I 
fled  before  him,  more  pleasantly  occupying 


As  he  approaches  conclusion  of  eloquent 
and  convincing  harangue  the  twelve  Mem- 
bers can  hardly  contain  themselves.  They 
strain  like  hounds  on  the  leaah  ;  they  never 
take  their  eyes  off  Pa  ;  seem  ready  to  eat 
him  in  excess  of  their  appreciation.  Once, 
when  Pa  stooped  down  to  pick  up  one  of 
the  folios  of  his  precious  speech,  they  all 
leaped  to  their  feet  as  if  propelled  by  the 
same  catapult.  When  Pa,  having  found 
his  paper,  went  on  with  his  speech,  the 
House  tittered  and  they  ruefully  resumed 
their  scats. 

Mrs.  GKNTLE-DDLNESS  growing  alarmed. 
"I  hope,"  she  says  nervously,  "they  aren't 
in  their  enthusiasm  going  to  do  anything 
foolish  :  lift  Pa  up  shoulder  high,  and 
carry  him  round  the  House  in  triumph,  or 
anything  of  that  kind." 

When  at  length  the  hon.  Member  on  his 
legs  makes  an  end  of  speaking,  the  dozen 


103 


PUNCH,  OE  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[FEBRUARY  27,  1897. 


arc  up  again  as  eagerly  as  before.  Bend- 
ing'forward  towards  the  Chair,  the  anxious 
eye  lately  fixed  on  Pa  is  now  turned  on  the 
Speaker.  Alack  !  alack  !  they  haven't 
been  listening  to  speech,  only  watching  for 
signs  of  its  conclusion  so  that  they  may 
get  the  next  chance  of  reading  their  own 
precious  paper.  As  SAHK  says,  this  is  not 
debate  ;  it 's  manufacture.  Small  wonder 
House  is  empty  whilst  process  is  going 
forward. 

Jlimr.ess  done. — Second  reading  of  Educa- 
tion Bill  carried  by  355  against  150. 

Thursday. — J.  W.  LOWTHER  (not  to  be 
confounded  with  the  illustrious  JEMMY) 
just  now  had  his  breath  temporarily,  but 
completely,  taken  away.  J.  W.  is  Chair- 
man of  Committees,  and  a  very  good  one, 
too.  Took  to  the  Chair  as  a  duck  takes  to 
water.  Where  his  trouble  commences  is 
when  he  leaves  it.  When,  being  in  the 
Chair,  he  opes  his  mouth,  no  dog  dare  bark, 
not  even  that  sad  dog,  TOMMY  BOWLES. 
Very  different,  as  he  learns,  when  he  de- 
scends from  the  Throne. 

To-night,  House  discussing  proposal  to 
read  second  time  London  County  Council 
Bill,  authorising  purchase  of  site  for  build- 
ing new  offices.  The  gentlemen  of  England 
who  hate  the  County  Council  and  all  its 
works  resolved  to  thwart  the  scheme.  Made 
long  angry  speeches  refusing  second  read- 
ing. J.  W.,  rising  from  temporary  quar- 
ters on  Treasury  Bench,  not  only  sup- 
ported second  reading,  but,  in  most  severe 
Chairman-of-Committee  manner,  scolded 


£677,938  3>.  3d. '. !    How  IT  WAS  DONE  ! 

Oom  Paul  (orer  the  banixters).  "  Now,  my  dear, 
is  there  anything  more  that  you  ran  think  of  before 
I  send  m  the  bill  ?  " 

A  female  Vniee.  "  Well,  dear,  I  paw  some 
lovely  so'-ks  at  1*.  7Jrf.  the  pair — you  want  two 
pairs  badly  ! " 

Members.  No  business,  he  said,  to  go 
talking  round  the  Bill  at  large  upon  second 
reading  stage.  Place  to  discuss  merits  of 
Bill  was  in  Committee  room  upstairs. 


Had  J.  W.  chanced,  as  often  happens  at 
this  early  hour,  to  have  arrayed  himself  in 
the  evening  dress  Chairman  wears  even  at 


A  PARLIAMENTARY  NKLSOM  ! 
We  understand  there  is  no  foundation  for  the 
statement  that,  in  order  to  ensure  dignity  and  reve- 
rence of  treatment,  Admiral  Field  has  undertaken 
to  replace  Mr.  Forbes  Robertson  at  the  Avenue 
Theatre ! 

morning  sittings  when  presiding  over  Com- 
mittee, he  might  have  escaped.  In  morn- 
ing dress,  a  private  Member  like  the  rest 
of  us,  bringing  the  tone  and  manner  of 
Chairman  of  Committees  into  ordinary  de- 
bate !  It  was  too  much.  Temptation  irre- 
sistible. Akin  to  case  of  arbitrary  usher 
accidentally  encountering  lot  of  the  boys 
in  mid  holiday.  Time,  near  Christmas ; 
scene,  a  lonely  common  a  foot  deep  in 
snow.  Could  the  boys  be  blamed  if  a 
storm  of  snowballs  darkens  the  air,  or 
even  if  a  human  figure,  outwardly  rever- 
enced in  term  time,  is  rolled  in  the  snow  ? 

Something  like  this  happened  in  case  of 
esteemed  Chairman  of  Committees.  MAPLE 
BLUNDELL,  putting  down  his  head,  butted 
him  (so  to  speak)  in  the  stomach.  COHEN 
blocked  his  hat.  DARLING,  getting  hold  of 
his  coat-tails,  violently  tugged  them,  con- 
tumeliously  shouting,  "Yah!  yah!"  As 
for  Cap'en  TOMMY,  he  sailed  round  and 
round,  dexterously  dipping  his  main  brace 
so  as  to  souse  the  right  honourable  gentle- 
man with  water.  SQUIRE  or  MALWOOD, 
who  has  not  recently  had  opportunity  of 
appearing  in  favourite  character  of  Pro- 
tector of  Ministers,  gallantly  ran  in  with 
attempt  to  drive  the  boys  off.  Too  late. 
The  fun  was  over :  a  mere  wreck  of  a 
Chairman  of  Committees  limped  off  to  the 
glad  obscurity  of  his  room. 

Business  dnnf. — OOM  PAUL  presents  his 
small  account.  Item :  to  material  damage, 
£677,938  3s.  3d.  Ditto :  to  moral  or  intel- 
lectual damage,  say  a  million.  What  a 
wag  it  is ! 


Friday. — Long  hours  find  a  dull  evening 
with  Army  Estimates  illumined  by  single 
gleam.  It  flashed  when  WILFRID  LAWSON 
and  Dr.  TANNER  walked  up  floor  shoulder 
to  shoulder,  co-tellers  in  a  division.  Chair- 
man of  Committees  deftly  compounded  the 
mixture. 

"  Only  wants  a  bit  of  ice  to  make  it  quite 
complete,"  said  SARK,  wetting  his  lips,  for, 
as  hinted,  the  proceedings  had  been  dry. 

With  brief  intervals  spent  outside,  TAN- 
NER has  pervaded  the  place  since  House 
got  into  Committee.  "  Knowing  nothing 
of  the  matter,"  he  said,  at  one  point  of 
discussion  on  Yecmanry  vote  ;  "  I  speak 
with  diffidence — great  diffidence,  Mr. 
LOWTHER."  Nevertheless,  he  spoke  often  ; 
divided  at  every  opportunity.  Had  taken 
one  division  on  reduction  of  Yeomanry 
Vote,  when  WILFRID  LAWSON,  "  going  one 
step  farther,"  as  WALTER  BARTTELOT  used 
to  say,  moved  rejection  of  whole  vote. 
Chairman  gave  him  several  chances. 

"  I  think  the  Ayes  have  it."  "  The  Noes 
have  it,"  said  wilful  WILFRID.  "The  Ayes 
have  it,"  repeated  the  Chairman,  in  warn- 
ing voice.  This  was  the  last  chance.  Every- 
one saw  what  was  coming,  except  LAWSON. 
who  once  more  challenged  Chairman's  de- 
cision. Then  the  bolt  fell.  "  Ayes  to  the 
right ;  Noes  to  the  left.  Tellers  for  the 
Ayes,  Sir  WILLIAM  WALROND  and  Mr. 
ANSTRTTTHER  ;  tellers  for  the  Noes,  Sir 
WILFRID  LAWSON  and  Dr.  TANNER."  House 
went  out  to  division  with  uproarious  glee. 

business  done.  —  Millions  voted  on  ac- 
count Army  Estimates. 


MISUNDERSTOOD ! 

(A  Story  of  tlie  Road  and  its  Double  Fares. ) 

"And  doubtless  you  have  good  reason 
for  charging  me  a  double  fare  ?  "  queried 
the  traveller. 

"Indeed  I  have,  Sir,"  was  the  ready 
response.  "  Our  company  opponents,  on 
festivals,  take  off  their  vehicles  at  an  early 
hour.  It  is  only  we — lowly  and  despised — 
keep  to  our  running.  Surely  for  this 
boon  we  deserve  some  recompense  ?  " 

"You  are  indeed  right,"  said  he  who 
was  journeying,  "and  this  two-pence  is 
given  with  every  feeling  of  satisfaction." 

"  Sir,  you  touch  me  nearly.  Never  have 
I  been  treated  with  so  much  kindness. 
Believe  me,  these  tears  spring  from  a 
heart  full  almost  to  breaking  with  the 
warmest  gratitude." 

"Nay,  I  did  not  mean  to  make  you 
weep,"  continued  the  traveller,  wiping 
away  himself  a  furtive  tear.  You  are 
civil  and  obliging,  and  if  you  are  under 
no  direct  control,  I  and  my  fellow-passen- 
gers are  free  from  the  unpleasant  atten- 
tions of  the  inspector  thirsting  for  tickets." 

"Ah,  Sir.  you  are  indeed  a  friend!" 
exclaimed  the  emotional  attendant ;  "  and 
I  would  ask  you  one  favour  more." 

"  It  is  granted  before  demanded." 

"A  thousand  thanks.  I  would  merely 
pray  of  you,  when  you  hear  my  vehicle  de- 
scribed in  brutal  language  by  a  hard- 
hearted public,  to  utter  a  word  in  my 
defence." 

"  Willingly.  In  future,  when  I  have  oc- 
casion to  speak  of  you,  I  will  call  you  the 
pleasing  alternative  to  the  Road  Car  and 
London  General." 

Then  came  a  shout  of  joy  and  a  declara- 
tion that  explained  everything. 

"  Ah,  that  will  be  far  better  than  being 
known  as  the  conductor  of  the  pirate 
'bus ! " 


MARCH  6,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


109 


WITH    A    SMART    PACK. 

"WHERE  THE  POOSE  is  MY  MAN  WITH  MY  SECOND  HAT? 


PROSE   IT 

[The  F.rminq  Standard  thinki  the  action  of  the 
llritixli  Admiral  and  bin  wanhip*  in  Cretan  wattr« 
*'  ftbnuld  commend  itaelf  to  every  man  who  can 
approach  a  question  of  international  complication 
without  frenzied  appeal*  to  Providence,  Hyde  Park, 
and  the  doubtful  medium  of  minor  vene.'  ] 

THAT  settles  it!     Dealing  with  friends  or 

foes, 
Our  standard   (says  the   Standard)   must 

be  pro-.!* ! 

The  sober,  stodgy  prose,  sense  can't  resist, 
Of — let  us  say  tin'  minor  journalist! 
Mere  Providence,  and  Hyde  Park,  and  the 

poet. 

Are  simply  out  of  it,  and  ought  to  know  it. 
Penny-a-liners,  so  they  be  but  prosy, 
And  do  not  turn  on  sentiment,  or  "the 

rosy," 
Make  better  guides  through  the  political 

dark 
Than    Providence,    Parnassus,    or    Hyde 

Park. 

Tyrtseus  now  has  not  a  chance,  you  bet, 
With  penners  of  the  poorest  leaderette. 
England's  Palladium,  as  the  fashion  goes, 
Is  partisan,  and  very  minor  prose! 


In  Bond  Street,   5  p.m. 

WIOMORB  (fn  TWIOMORE,  whom  hf.  haxn't 
wen  far  yean}.  By  Jove!  you  are  looking 
well,  old  chap!  Gone  in  for  matrimony? 

TWIOMORB.  No,  my  boy,  better  than 
that — patri-money. 


OUE  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

THE  New  Woman  amongst  novelists  has  really  left  nothing 
more  to  be  done.  One  recently  took  Satan  for  her  hero.  OLIVB 
Si  HHKiNKH,  in  Trooper  Peter  Halket  (FISHER  UNWIN),  has  gone 
one  better,  sketching  on  her  canvas  the  most  sacred  figure 
known  to  mankind.  If  the  thing  must  be  done  it  may  be  ad- 
mitted that  the  difficult  task  has  been  accomplished  with  deli- 
cacy and  force.  It  is  a  noble,  majestically-human  personage  that 
appears  to  Peter  Halket  in  the  loneliness  of  the  night  on 
the  veldt.  The  doubt  that  disturbs  the  mind  of  the  reader 
is  as  to  the  object  with  which  the  book  is  written.  My  Baronite 
is  not  sure  wnether  the  work  was  undertaken  because  OLIVB 
SCHREINER  hates  Mr.  CECIL  RHODES  the  less,  or  because  she 
loves  the  Kaffir  more.  Perfectness  of  art  is  not  compatible  with 
personal  prejudice  and  exaggeration.  Breach  of  this  canon  robs 
Peter  Halket  of  full  success.  The  black  man  is  not  so  white  as 
ho  is  here  painted,  nor  is  the  white  man  nearly  so  black.  The 
cowardly  murder  of  the  trooper  by  his  captain,  which  closes  the 
story,  is  savage  in  its  libellous  reflection  on  Mre.  SCHREINEK'B 
own  countrymen. 

"It  may  frequently  happen  that  an  order  may  be  given  to  an 
officer  which,  from  circumstances  not  known  to  the  person  who 
gave  it  at  the  time  he  issued  it,  would  be  impossible  to  execute, 
or  the  difficulty  or  risk  of  the  execution  of  it  would  be  so  great 
as  to  amount  to  moral  impossibility."  This  passage  from  one  of 
the  Duke  of  WELLINGTON  s  despatches  was  quoted  in  the  fore- 
front of  a  memorandum  from  Sir  GEORGE  TRYON  issued  to  the 
squadron  when  he  was  in  command  of  the  Mediterranean  station. 
The  occasion  was  the  disaster  to  the  Horn.  Among  his  own 
dicta  Sir  GEOROE  laid  down  the  rule  that  "  risks  that  are  not  only 
justifiable  but  are  demanded  during  war  are  not  justifiable  during 
peace."  This  from  the  author  and  director  of  the  manoeuvre 
which,  on  the  22nd  of  June,  1893,  led  to  the  collision  between 
the  Camperdown  and  the  Victoria,  the  sinking  of  the  latter 
ship,  and  the  wholesale  loss  of  crew  and  officers,  including  Sir 
GEORGE  TRYON,  is,  my  Baronite  says,  one  of  the  grimmest  inci- 
dents in  biography.  In  his  Life  of  Sir  Gtorge  Tryon  (BLACK- 
WOOD),  Admiral  FITZGERALD  surmises  that  the  name  of  his  hero  is 
known  to  many  of  his  countrymen  only  in  connection  with  the 
great  maritime  disaster.  That  is  inevitable,  and  the  fact  will 
remain  till  the  name  ceases  to  be  spoken.  In  his  simply  told 
and  fascinating  story  Admiral  FITZGERALD  succeeds  in  deepening 
the  mystery  that  broods  over  the  fatal  order.  He  shews  TRYON  from 
his  first  appointment  as  a  midshipman  on  the  Wettedcy  devoting 
energy  and  supreme  capacity  to  the  mastery  of  his  loved  profession. 


He  knew  everything,  and  could  do  anything  that  became  a  sailor. 
It  was,  in  truth,  as  Admiral  FITZGERALD  testifies,  the  blind  trust 
confided  in  him  by  men  and  officers  that  led  to  the  calamity. 
He  ordered  the  squadron  to  manoeuvre  on  the  basis  of  the 
columns  being  six  cables  apart.  Every  cabin-boy  knew  that 
such  an  arrangement  must  lead  to  collision.  But  everyone 
believed  TRYON  knew  what  he  was  about,  that,  somehow  or 
other,  the  thing  would  come  right.  So  orders  were  obeyed,  and 
the  Victoria  was  run  down.  It  was  magnificent,  but  it  was  not 
seamanship.  (Signed)  THE  BARON. 


A  PASSAGE  IN  A  FLAT. 

(/•'//  a  Stout  Man. ) 

You  may  doubtless  think  that  I  in  this  title  must  imply 
Something  musical,  a  movement  played  melodiously  at 

Any  concert  you  recall.     No,  it  is  not  that  at  all, 
For  the  A  is  not  accented  in  this  "  passage  in  a  flat.'' 

And  a  "  movement "  there  might  lead  to  disasters  great  indeed  ; 

For  unlucky  individuals  like  me  a  little  fat, 
AY  it  h  a  far  too  ample  waist,  it  is  awkward  to  bo  placed 

In  the  very  narrow  passage  found  in  almost  any  flat. 

All  your  rooms,  my  friend,  are  fine,  fit  for  bulk  yet  more  than 
mine, 

But  the  pa-ssage  is  not  similar,  you  could  not  argue  that. 
One  must  be  absurdly  thin  to  be  comfortable  in 

Any  gangway  so  contracted  as  the  passage  in  a  flat. 

And  in  yours,  by  no  means  wide,  you  have  hung  on  either  side 
Some  extremely  charming  drawings  which  I  gaae  at  from  the 
mat, 

Fearful  lest  I  sweep  them  all  to  destruction  from  the  wall, 
If  I  try  to  struggle  past  them  in  the  passage  of  your  flat. 


At   Redrufus   Castle. 


The  Duchess  of  Stony  Cross  (to  Mrs.  MACSHODDY,  who  u  re- 
turning a  duty  call).  The  Duke  has  actually  consented  to  be 
Mayor  of  Crankborough  in  succession  to  poor  Mr.  SLITT. 

.l/i-.v.  .VarS'/imW?/.  Well !  that '11  be  very  nice  for  you  !  You're 
sure  to  be  invited  to  the  Mansion  House  in  London  during  the 


THE  PRESENT  IJAND  OF  GOSCHEN. — Crete. 


VOL.  exit. 


110 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[ MARCH  6,   1897. 


V*4— 


:x-£2?vL 


THREE    OF    A    TRADE.' 


John  Bull  (the  Enterprising  Commercial,  to  Miss  Abyssinia).   "HERE,  Miss,  THIS  is  'THE  LINE'  FOR  YOU, — I  THINK  THE  GOODS 

ARK  THE   BEST   IS   THE   MARKET  !  " 


MAK. 'ii  G,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


ill 


» ..-•*  i.  v; 


AT    A    CHECK. 

Huntsman.  "Hi  !  HOLD  HAKU  !    CAN'T  YOU  SEE  THE  HOUNDS  AKB  NOT  KUN.MNO?" 
Qeiti  (out  fvr  the  day).  "THEN  WHY  THE  DICKENS  DON'T  yon  MARK  'KM  RUN?" 


THE  ABYSSINIAN  MAID. 

A  VISION  IN  THR  "  MOUNTAINS  OF  RASSELAS." 

(Fragment  a  very  lung  way  after  "Kv.Ua 

Khan.") 
•  •  »  • 

A  DAMSEL  with  a  traveller 

In  a  vision  once  I  saw. 
Slic  was  an  Abyssinian  maid, 
And  he  a  bagman,  bent  on  trade, 

Bold  of  front  and  glib  of  jaw. 
In  the  background  bagmen  twain, 
Commercial  rivals,  bent  on  gain, 
Looked  on,  to  see  if  she  'd  incline 
To  the  new  commercial's  "  line." 

Lowered  from  his  big,  broad  back, 

At  her  feet  he  spread  his  pack, 
Musing,  "Could  I  awake  within  her 

Desire,  just  make  her  look  and  long, 
To  talk  and  trade  with  me  could  win  her, 

I  should  chortle  loud  and  long!" 
He  had  a  bold  and  winning  air : 

II  This  line  's  Al ,  the.se  goods  are  nice  !  " 
But  tho  two  rivals  standing  there 

Said  to  the  maid,  "Beware!  beware! 

His  cunning  eyes,  his  curly  hair ! 
Madam,  take  our  joint  advice, 
Ere  you  trust,  bethink  you  thrice, 

And  close  your  ears  to  all  he 's  said, 

For  he  in  Free  Trade  fields  hath  fed ; 
'  Protection  is  our  Paradise ! ' ' 


TURF  INTELLIGENCE.  —  A  horse  called 
Kenn  has  been  supported  for  the  Derby. 
Is  some  Scotsman  "  in  the  know  "  ? 


APPROPRIATE  TITLE  FOB  THE  KINO  OF  THE 
HELLENES. — GEOROE  the  Indis-Cretan. 


EXCELLENT  precedent  for  the  "  actor- 
author-manager  " — "  three  single  gentlemen 
rolled  into  one  " — is  to  be  found  in  WIL- 
LIAM SHAKSPEARE  himself.  Wasn't  it  Mr. 
JOHN  HoLLJNGSHBAD  who  first  suggested 
that  the  reason  why  WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE 
cast  himself  for  the  part  of  the  Ghost  in 
Hamlet,  was  that  in  uie  intervals  he  could 
go  in  fiont,  "count  the  house,"  and  gene- 
rally supervise  the  box-office  ? 

REAL  CHESS-NUTS.  —  Prizes  at  a  big 
Tournament. 


Billy.    "  AND  SUPPOSING  DR.  NANSKN  WAS 

TO   FIND    THE    NORTH    POLK,     WOT  WOULD    HE 
DO  WIV    IT  ?  " 

Tommy.  "  WHY,  STU-K  IT  UP  os  THK 
EMHANKMBNT,  LIKE  THEY  'AVE  CLEOI-ARTY'S 
NEEDLE." 


THE    FERULE    OF  FAME. 

(A  Cve  for  the  Champion  Oueiat.) 
[When   ROHEKTS   (in    hu  match  with  PEALL) 
completed  hi»  great  break  of  604,  Mr.  BALPOUB. 
who  was  watching  the  game  intently,  applauded 
loudly  with  the  ferule  of  his  umbrella.] 

ANCIENT  champions,  greatest,  truest, 

Found  immortal  bards  to  sing  'em  ; 
But  our  mighty  champion  cueist 

Wins    praise    from—  PRINCB     ARTHUR'S 

gingham ! 
ROBERTS,  long  be  it  ere  you, 

Mill/in  nominis  umbra,  stand ! 
Break,  break,  break,  till  all  is  blue, 

Keen  of  sight  and  true  of  hand ! 
Cynics  swear  a  champion's  name 

Is  all  leather  and  prunella. 
Safe  from  fading  is  your  fame. 

Shaded  by  BALFOUK'S  umbrella ; 
Though,  if  top  place  you  'd  not  lose 
You  must  mind  your  P(EALL)S  and  Cues  I 


At  the  Pink  Dragon,  Bloomabury. 

William  Jawkins.  I  see  that  the  County 
Council  are  going  to  issue  bills  at  short 
date. 

The  MaeTav'uh  (feelingly).  Quid  mon 
alive !  did  ye  iver  ken  the  catamarans  not 
sae  to  dee  ? 

Tire  RESULT  OF  AN  IMPRUDENT  MARRIAGE 
(by  our  oti-n  Matrimonial  Adviser). — 
County  Court-ship. 

ABSIT  OMEN  !— The  Archduke  RAINER  of 
Austria  has  gone  to  Cannes  for  a  stay  of 
several  weeks. 


112 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  6,  1897. 


n 


SONGS    AND    THEIR    SINGERS.      No.   XI. 


THE    WOTHERSPOONS. 

A  STOKY  IN  SCENES. 

II. 

SCENE—  The  Terrace  of  the  Spa  at  Scarborough.  It  is  a  fine  morning 
towards  the  etui  of  September.  The  Terrace  is  not  crowded,  and  most 
of  those  present  are  leaning  over  the  parapet,  listening  to  the  troupes 
of  Niggers  a-iid  Pierrots  performing  on  the  sands  below.  Miss  HEN- 
RIETTA WOTHERSPOON  and  FKITZ  VON  GUBLER  are  walking  up  and 
down  together,  apart  from  the  rest.  She  is  about  forty-five,  with  hair 
that  is  beginning  to  turn  grey,  ordinary  features,  and  an  ingenuously 
amiable  expression.  He  is  thirty,  with  fair  hair,  cut  brush-tirise, 
small  uptwisted  moustache,  and  a  stolid  pink  and  white  countenance. 

Miss  Wotherspoon.  The  last  day  at  dear  old  Scarborough !  It 
has  been  such  a  happy  time.  I  wish  it  could  go  on  for  ever  I 
Don't  you  ? 

Von  G-ubler.  For  ever?  Imbossible.  The  season  is  ouide  over 
alretty. 

Miss  W.  I  shouldn't  mind  that  so  long  as But  I  'm  afraid 

you  think  that 's  silly  and  sentimental  of  me ! 

Von  O.  (with  indulgence).  I  also  can  be  sendimendal  somdimes 
— when  there  is  a  moon,  and  a  pand  blaying. 

Miss  W.  There  was  a  moon  that  evening  when  you  asked  me 
— do  you  remember — on  the  balcony  ?  ' 

Von  G.  On  the  balgony,  yes.  And  onderneat  in  the  road  a 
paud  blayed.  I  remember  when  you  bromise  to  be  my  wife  I 
was  so  mat  with  choy  I  gif  the  drombone  half-a-grown  I 

Miss  W.  It  came  as  such  an  utter  surprise  to  me.  I  could 
aardly  believe  you  meant  it. 

Von.  0.  I  did  not.  la  the  dark  I  dake  it  as  a  vlorin  But  no 
madder. 

Miss  W.  I— I  mean,  I  thought  you  would  have  cared  for 
somebody  who  was  nearer  your  own  age.  It  seems  so  wonderful 
you  should  have  chosen  me,  with  so  many  pretty,  attractive 
jirls  at  Marina  House. 

Von  G.  I  do  not  gare  for  them.  At  the  Marina  House  they 
are  too  flirdatious,  and  they  are  not  real  laties.  Pesides.  when 
hey  are  yong  and  bretty,  they  exbect  too  much  addentioii.  I 
>refer  somebody  who  is  quiet,  and  mittle-aged,  vedder  she  haf  a 
iddle  money  or  not  makes  nodings.  Since  my  onkel  is  det,  I 
laf  blenty.  But  a  real,  highborn  Englisch  laty — that  is  the 
irincipal  thing. 


Miss  W .  As  to  that,  I  cau  only  tell  you  iny  dear  father  was  a 
sugar-broker. 

Von  G.  A  sugar-proker !  (With  slight  uneasiness.)  Dell  mo 
— tliat  is  not  the  same  us  a  gonvectioner? 

Miss  W.  Indeed,  it  isn't.  It's  not  a  trade  at  all.  It's  quite  a 
nice  business  to  be  in — almost  a  profession.  Thoy  don't  touch 
the  sugar  themselves,  only  deal  with  it  somehow — like  stocks. 
My  brother  is  in  it  now — but  he  doesu't  do  very  much,  except 
when  his  partner  is  away. 

Von  G.  (relieved).  I  am  glatt  it  is  no  worse  as  that.  In  my 
gountry  of  Schvitzerland  they  are  demogradigal,  but  my  family, 
the  Von  GUBLERS,  com  originally  from  Owstriaj  where  they  were 
oal  parons.  And  you  onderstand,  for  my  familie's  sake  I  gould 
not  marry  a  wife  whose  gonnections  were  common  beoples. 

Miss  W.  I  am  glad  to  say  that  we  have  scarcely  any  connec- 
tions— certainly  none  that  you  need  be  in  the  least  ashamed  of. 

Von    G.  I  pelief   it   weh.     Sugar-proking  is  no   doubt  quide 

chendeel,  though  I  dp  not  regollect  to  haf  met  any  sugar-proker 

at  the  daple  of  my  friend  Lord  GOLBSHAFTS.  You  know  him,  yes  ? 

Miss  W.  I  can't  say  I  do.     Is  Lord  COLESHAFTS  a  great  friend 

of  yours? 

Von  G.  At  von  dime,  yes.  We  were  gonstantly  togetter.  I 
haf  shtayed  with  him,  dravelled  with  him — and  so  forth.  Ladely 
I  lose  side  of  him  altpgetter.  Is  that  not  the  way  with  your  so 
broud  and  shtiff  English  Iprts  ? 

Miss  W.  I  know  so  little  about  them.  We  are  very  quiet 
people,  SPENCER  and  I. 

Von  G.  So  ?     And  who  is  SBENCER  ? 

Miss  W.  SPENCER  is  my  brother.  And  oh,  FRITZ,  he  doesn't 
know  anything  about  it  yet  I 

Von  G.   (staring).  Not  know  that  he  is  your  broder? 
Miss  W.   No,  no.     Of  our  engagement.     I  really  haven't  had 
courage  to  write.     I'm  afraid  it  will  be  a  dreadful  blow  to  him. 
You  see,  he  has  lived  with  me  in  the  same  house  all  these  years. 
Von  G.  Oal  the  more  reason  he  find  a  house  for  himself. 
Miss  W.  But  it 's  his  house  just  as  much  as  mine.     More,  be- 
cause he  has  always  paid  the  rates  and  taxes. 

Von  G.  Ach,  the  goot  SBENCEB.  Nefer  shall  he  be  durned 
from  our  doors,  mine  HENRIETTE.  Alvays  shall  there  be  a  goot 
varm  gorner  for  SBENCER  ! 

Miss  W.  Dear  FRITZ,  I  knew  you  had  a  tender  heart,  though 

you!  do  try  to  hide  it  under •     Yes,  SPENCER  must  live  with  us. 

I  know  you  will  be  fond  of  him.  He  is  so  kind,  and  simple,  and 
sincere — you  can  depend  upon  him  so  absolutely. 

Von  G.  Apsoludely,  no — begause  I  haf  myself  a  liddle.  But 
he  may  gontinue  to  bay  the  rades  and  daxes. 

Miss  W.  He  would  be  simply  miserable  if  he  had  to  live  all 
by  himself  now.  He  's  some  years  older  than  I  am. 

Von  G.  So  old  as  that?  Quide  too  old  to  marry,  then  1  . 
Miss  W.  To  marry  ?  I  can't  imagine  SPENCER  ever  doing 
that — now.  He 's  a  little  difficult  to  please,  and  besides,  he  has 
always  said  he  was  much  too  comfortable  with  me  to  run  the  risk 
of  a  change.  I  do  hope  he  won't  mind  much.  It  will  have  to 
be  broken  to  him  very  gently. 

Von  G.  I  will  do  it  very  chendly.  To-morrow  I  walk  in  with 
you,  arm-in-arm — so  ;  I  dig  him  chogosely — but  bolitely — in  the 
shtomag,  and  say,  "Goot  efening,  broder-in-law  I "  Then  he 
gombrenend. 

Miss  W.  No,  please,  FRITZ!  You  mustn't  come  to  the  house 
with  me — not  to-morrow,  not  the  very  first  evening  I  You  must 
leave  me  at  King's  Cross,  and  stay  at  a  hotel.  You  won't  mind? 
Von  G.  Nod  at  all. 

Miss  W.  You  see,  I  must  have  a  little  time  to — to  prepare 
SPENOBR.  I  know  it  will  be  dreadfully  dull  for  you,  dear. 

Von  G.  On  the  gondrary.  I  dine  at  a  resdaurant  and  drob 
into  a  musig-hall  afder. 

Miss  W.  It  is  sweet  of  you  to  be  so  good-humoured  about  it, 

when But  after  all,  it 's  only  for  one  night — and  the  next 

you  will  come  to  dinner,  of  course,  and  make  SPENCER'S  acquaint- 
ance. I'm  sure  he  will  be  perfectly  charmed  with  you  when  he 
really  gets  to  know  you,  and  we  shall  be  quite  happy  and  cosy 
together. 

Von  G.  If  SBENCER  is  gosy  to  me,  I  will  be  gosy  to  him.  (He 
consults  his  watch.)  Ach!  we  vaste  so  much  dime  dalking  we 
are  lade  for  dapled'hode  lonch.  Led  us  go. 

Miss  W.  Don't  let's  go  to  Marina  House,  FRITZ.  Couldn't  we 
lunch  out  somewhere  ?  It 's  our  last  day  ! 

Von  6.  It  is  much  pedder  we  lonch  at  the  Marina  House.  We 
gif  no  nodice  we  will  not  be  there. 

Miss  W.  I  see.  And  you  think  it  might  hurt  poor  Mrs. 
HACKNESS'B  feelings  if  we  stay  away  ?  You  are  always  so  con- 
siderate, dear  FRITZ! 

Von  G.  Considerate,  yes.  She  put  the  lonch  down  in  the 
pills  vezzer  we  ead  it  or  nod.  Also  at  the  Marina  House,  they 
gif  you  a  very  goot  poddle  of  Bitsener.  No,  we  will  not  lonch 
inyvere  else — it  is  a  vasde  of  money. 


6,   1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


113 


Miss   IT.  Of  course — how  stupid  of  we! 
that. 


I  never  thought  of 


Vliurus  nf  Niyairs  (Iteai'd  from  Mow), 

"  i  ih,  ,unt  it  a  pity  that  the  likes  of  Vr 
Should  take  up  wiv  the  likes  of  'nut" 

I  un  <!.   Sdruinch  I     Those  niggers  sing  ulvuys  that  gomic  song 
with  a  LI H  iii  thut  uefer  meau  uodingsl 


AUGUSTS  EN  ANGLETEKKE. 
LONDON. 

DEAR  MISIKH, — The  Stockexchauge  is  one  of  the  curiosities  of 
the  city.  I  am  go  no  to  see  her  there  is  some  days.  Naturally 

I  attend  to  find  a  great  edifice  on  a  great  place,  as  the  Bourse  at 
Paris,     but,  after  much  of  difficulty  and  much  of  explications 

I 1  oin  the  agents  of  police — so  enormous  and  so  polite — 1  arrive  to 
.1  small  street  at  side  of  the  Bank  of  England,  where  one  would 
attend  to  lind  the  entry  of  the  personal — that  which  one  calls  the 
"  backdoor"  in  engiish — and,  vttilu,  iu  another  little  end  of  sack, 
cul-de-sac,  approached  from  this  little  street,   finds  herself  the 
.-iitry  of  the  Hourse  of  London.     \\  hat  droll  of  ideal     Pas  may- 
itifique  du  taut,  not  magnificent  of  the  all. 

fch  well,  1  perceive  several  persons  who  enter,  and  therefore  roe 
also  I  enter,  as  to  the  Bourse  at  Pans.  Truly  I  know  not, 
though  it  is  in  my  country,  if  all  the  world  can  to  enter  the 
Bourse,  but  I  am  entered  two  times  or  more,  and  I  have  erred 
at  the  interior  ut  the  middle  of  the  boursiers,  pursers,  all  crying 
at  high  voice. 

1  do  of  same  at  London,  and  I  enter  with  some  misters  who 
arrive  ut  the  same  instant.  By  consequence  the  guardian  at  the 
entry  perceives  me  not.  1  arrest  myself  at  the  glassed  doors  of  the 
interior,  for  to  regard  before  of  to  enter.  One  has  told  me,  since, 
that  the  strangers  are  permitted  of  to  do  that,  and  thureiore  the 
i i'ii'  a rye  occupies  not  himself  of  it  more. 

The  interior  is  enough  vast  and  enough  high.  The  walls  are 
covered  of  a  substance  who  resembles  to  the  cheese  of  Gorgou- 
y.olu.  It  is  perhaps  a  sort  of  marb|e.  The  floor  is  dirty,  and 
covered  of  pieces  of  paper,  as  at  Paris,  and  of  pursers,  who  push 
MIIIII-  m.-.-,  with  much  ot  noi.-e,  also  as  at  Paris.  During  that  1 
regard,  a  man  in  costume  of  concierge  walks  himself  among  the 
punters  carrying  a  wuterer,  arrosoir,  and  waters  the  dusty  lloor. 
\\  hat  droll  of  idea  I  It  is  evident  thut  the  Londouian  lovea  much 
the  mud,  if  he  makes  to  make  some  mud  even  in  the  Stock- 
exchange.  Having  seen  all  this,  1  open,  the  door,  and  I  enter 
tor  to  traverse  to  the  other  side. 

At  pain  urn  I  entered  when  ull  suddenly  I  have  the  hat 
tnfumx,  smashed,  on  the  head.  Very  astonished  I  search  the 
reason  of  this  attack,  ami  in  this  moment  here  a  second  blow 
smashes  linn  yet  more.  Then  my  hat  falls  to  earth,  I  perceive 
thut  I  am  surrounded  of  pursers,  I  bear  some  cries,  some  ex- 
clamations, the  crowd  pushes,  I  am  bouscule,  I  leave  to  fall  my 
umbrella,  my  pardtssus  is  almost  torn,  and,  before  that  I  can  to 
say  JOHN  UOBINSON,  I  find  myself  in  the  court  of  entry.  In 
ettect  I  am  "chucked  outside."  Ale,  AUGUSTS,  a  peaceable 
voyager  from  a  friendly  country !  It  is  too  much  strong,  c'esl 
trap  fort  !  Hacre  nom  de  nuin  !  But  I  go  to  be  calm. 

"  Misters,"  I  say  to  those  who  have  attacked  me,  "  I  go  im- 
mediately to  the  trench  Ambassade  for  to  demand  the  interven- 
tion of  my  government.  It  will  be  an  international  affair.  At 
present  1  say  not  anything,  except  that  I  demand  my  hat  and  m  \ 
umbrella."  After  to  have  obtained  them,  I  throw  myself  in  a 
cab  and  I  go  direct  to  the  Ambassade. 

In  arriving  there  I  am  received — iu  french  we  say  "  interview^" 
— by  a  young  attached  man,  un  jeune  attache,  who  is  truly  deso- 
lated, and  one  can  not  more  sympathetic,  ana  as  amiable  as  pos- 
sible. But  he  is  also  diplomatist,  and,  always  with  thousand 
regrets  and  praying  me  to  believe  to  his  lively  sympathy,  he 
says  me  tliat  it  is  not — he  assures  me  of  it — an  international 
atfuir,  thut  it  is  not  even — helas! — an  affair  of  police,  seen  that 
— well  sure  without  any  bad  intention — I  had  wrong,  because  one 
is  defended  of  to  enter.  Also  that  the  pursers  are  very  little 
occupied  at  present,  that  they  auiuse  themselves  to  true  to  say 
almost  as  some  boys,  and  that  it  was  but  a  pleasautery  of  their 
part.  "  line  fnit  iiuiueaise  plaisanterie ! "  1  cry,  indicating  my 
hat  ami  my  umbrella.  But  by  degrees  I  leave  myself  to  persuade, 
je  me  /uu.*  /*  /.MKH/.T,  and  in  fine  I  commence  to  laugh.  And  iii 
laughing  one  forgets  naturally  his  bad  humour.  The  young  at- 
tached man  smiles — a  tine  smile  of  diplomatist — I  thank  him,  and 
1  say  to  him  "  Adieu." 

In  quilting  the  Ambassade  I  perceive  that  my  umbrella  is  not 
ruined,  I  buy  a  new  hat,  and  even  I  find  that  my  ancient  hat — 
which  resembles  at  present  to  un  accordion,  or  to  a  "  gibus " 
<;  mint i<-  (>  nur,  at  half  closed — (.'an  to  bo  "  blocked  "  and  repassed, 
and  will  be  then,  in  verity,  enough  good  for  a  such  climate. 


THAT   TYRANT    MAN. 

Thomas  the  Drummer.  "WELL,  EMHAK,  YOU  NEEDN'T  TAK«  ON  so. 

I    LOVES  YOU   s  11:11.  II  I    K.Sol  c,H  ;     BUT    'AMilN1     BOUND    THE    BAKKICK 

OAVES,  ASKIN'  FOB  MS,  is  TUB  SOKT  OF  THING  I  WILL"NOT  'AVX  I" 


Mon  I'ii  a,  quid  i'/  nnnl  I  Not  the  least  li  ttle  ray  of  sun  :  without 
cease  of  the.  rain,  of  the  foe  I  And  that  not  only  the  day  where 
I  visit  the  Stockexchaiige,  but  during  some  weeks,  during  some 
months,  before  I  It  is  not  the  pain  of  to  carry  a  good  hat,  fot 
that  he  may  be  ruined  by  the  rain,  when  nobody  would  could  to 
see  him,  at  cause  of  the  foe.  Therefore.  <i  mauvais  jet*,  bonne 
mine,  to  bad  game  good  look.  In  effect  I  am  less  illtreated  than 
I  thought.  Perhaps  even  it  is  not  astonishing  that  the  pursers 
should  essay  to  amuse  themselves  even  as  that,  mime  comme  (a, 
by  a  time  so  sad.  But  all  of  same  I  shall  revisit  never  the  Stock- 
exchange.  Agree,  &c.,  AUGUBTB. 

SENSE  FOE  THE  SEXES. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH,  —  A  talented  lady  has  recently  written  a 
charming  book,  called  Manners  for  Men.  I  can  praise  it  with 
the  greatest  heartiness  as  I  have  not  read  it.  But  the  title  sug- 
gests a  companion  volume,  Styles  for  Women.  Could  not  some- 
one —  more  accomplished  than  I  —  take  the  matter  up  ?  To  assist 
the  author  —  it  would  scarcely  be  fair  for  the  writer  to  be  of  the 
feminine  gender  —  I  jot  down  a  few  specimens  of  style. 

Literary.  —  Hair  cut  short,  pince-nez,  tailor-cut  coat,  and 
divided  skirt. 

M'usical.  —  Dishevelled  tresses,  jewels,  and  fine  raiment. 

Theatrical.  —  Picture-hat,  furs,  thirty-button  gloves,  and  brown 
paper  covered  MS. 

Charitable.—  Prim  curls,  ulster,  umbrella,  and  carpet-bag  full 
of  tracts. 

Domestic.  —  Perfection  personified. 

There,  Mr.  Punch,  is  the  germ  of  the  idea.  Let  the  coming 
author  teach  our  ladies  the  styles  to  adopt  and  to  avoid.  \\  hy 
should  poor  men  have  to  listen  te  all  the  preaching  '( 

Believe  me,  yours  sincerely,          A  LORD  OF  THE  MANNER. 
I  l'i"  r  Touting.  _  _ 


LIKELY  RESULT  OF  THE  BRITISH  MISSION  TO  ABYSSINIA.  —  Kiss- 
ing the  ROOD. 


114 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  6,  1897. 


RECIPROCITY. 

She.  "  SYMPATHISE  WITH   ME,  GENERAL.     I   FOUND  A  GREY   HAIR   IN   MY   HEAD 
MORNING!"        He.  "CONGRATULATE  ME,  MADAM.     I  FOUND  A  BLACK  ONE  IN  MINE!" 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

An  ardent  Lover,  deprived  of  his  sorrowful 
Lady's  society  by  parental  decree,  semis  her 
a  promise  of  Spring-tide. 

HAVE  you  but  seen 

The  tender  green 
Of  crocuses  all  blowing, 

Wrapt  round  their  hue 

Of  gold  and  blue 
And  white,  like  goblets  growing? 

Can't  you  esteem 

The  pallid  dream 
Of  snowdrops  at  their  birth  ? 

Each  little  head 

Crept  from  its  bed 
Before  its  leaf  had  left  the  earth  ? 

E'en  you  must  feel 
The  air  reveal 
The  truth  of  Nature's  will, 


And  if  beset 

With  sad  regret 
Take  council  with  the  daffodil  I 

She  does  not  rise 

To  meet  the  skies, 
Unmindful  of  her  splendour, 

Yet  heeds  not  woe, 

But  torn,  can  glow 
In  light  the  sunbeams  lend  her  1 

I  do  not  sing  ; 

The  birds  of  Spring, 
They  sing  for  me,  unceasing, 

Their  joyous  song 

But  makes  me  long 
To  own  the  life  I  'm  leasing. 

The  winds  of  March 

May  storm  and  parch, 
But  oh!  give  me  their  blowing! 

For  ev"ry  gust 

Of  whirling  dust 
Proclaims  that  Nature  's  sowing  1 


So  in  this  muni 

lie  not  forlorn, 
But  think  of  Hope's  persistence, 

I  lo)(c  is  the  seed 

And  Fact  the  weed 
That  make  a  man's  existence. 

Therefore  in  Spring 

1  closely  cling 
To  you — then  be  not  chiding, 

But  in  the  tares 

The  ploughman  spares 
Find  one  with  Love  abiding! 


"A  WAY  THEY  WILL  HAVE  IN  THE  NAVY." 

(J.'t^ort  slightly  in  advance.) 

THE  Commissioners  of  the  Admiralty 
were  making  their  annual  inspection.  The 
weather  was  fine,  so  their  yachting  expe- 
dition had  been  exceptionally  pleasant. 
They  had  seen  the  ships  and  the  guns.  At 
that  point  they  had  stopped  short. 

"  And  now  you  say  that  the  whole  of  the 
machinery  is  worked  from  the  central 
tower  ?  "  queried  the  First  Lord. 

"  Yes,"  was  the  reply.  "  The  vessel  is 
steered,  the  guns  are  worked,  and  the  fires 
arc  stoked,  all  by  electricity." 

"An  ingenious  contrivance,"  remarked 
the  Second  Sea  Lord. 

"  Very,"  consented  the  Superintendent. 
"  And,  as  recruits  are  scarce,  convenient." 

"  Well,  with  the  inspection  of  this  last 
first-rate  battleship  our  inspection  con- 
cludes. I  think  we  have  seen  every- 
thing ?  " 

The  colleagues  of  the  speaker  whispered 
a  suggestion. 

"  To  be  sure — I  hud  forgotten  it.  We 
have  seen  the  ships  and  the  guns.  But  we 
have  not  inspected  the  men.  So  perhaps 
we  might  overhaul  the  crew  of  the  present 
vessel.  Mr.  Admiral,  will  you  kindly  beat 
to  quarters  ?  " 

Thus  invited,  the  officer  whistled,  and 
the  summons  was  answered  by  a  head  ap- 
pearing out  of  the  central  tower. 

"  And  who  may  you  be  ? "  asked  the 
First  Lord. 

"  Please  your  honour,"  came  the  reply, 
"  I  am  the  crew." 

"  The  crew  !    What  crew  ?  " 

"  The  crew  of  this  here  vessel ;  and  I  can 
tell  you,  lords  and  gentlemen,  that  it 's 
precious  lonely  working  a  big  ship  like  this 
without  a  messmate  !  " 

And  the  Lords  of  the  Admiralty — having 
nothing  better  to  do — made  a  note  of  the 
objection. 

BLONDIN — KING  OF  THE  HIGH  HOPE. 

Horn  at  St.  Omer,  Ftbmary  28,  1824. 
Died  at  Eating,  February  22,  1897. 

BLONDIN  is  dead !    No  more  he  '11  tread 

The  rope  that  was  his  path  in  life 
With  valiant  stride,  uplifted  head, 

And  mien  of  hero  loving  strife  ! 
But  thought  of  battle  never  stirred 

That  modest  victor  of  the  cord  ; 
His  conquests  were  the  plaudits  heard, 

His  courage  was  its  own  reward ! 
Fearless,  his  heart  was  all  too  soft, 

Though  true  as  steel  right  to  the  core  I 
He  stretched  his  steadfast  line  aloft, 

And  kept  it,  wishing  nothing  more  I 


QUESTION  TO  BE  ASKED  IN  THE  HOUSE. — 
Sir  WILLIAM  VERNON  HAKCOURT  has  been 
summoned  for  having  his  chimney  on  fire. 
Is  this  the  result  of  the  bombardment  of 
Canea  ? 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.-  MARCH  6,  1897. 


THE   BONE   OF  CONTENTION. 


DAME  EUKOPA.   "GOOD  DOGGIE!  GOOD  DOGGIE!  GIVE  IT  UP— LET  MISSIS  HAVE  IT!!" 


MAKCII  G,   1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


117 


Jtustic  Model.  "YES,  SIR,  TH«   CHARITY   BOYS  FROM   LONDON   BTOIE   ALL  OUR  APPLES 

LAST  YEAR.      FATHER   WOULD   HAVE   HAD  THEM    LOCKED   UP,    BUT  TH«   POLICEMAN    WAS   AWAY 

ON  HIS  HOLIDAYS!"    (A  Fart.) 


EXCURSIONS  IN   VKKSK. 

(To  ftichiiunul  in  11  L'luir  a  ham-.) 
Wu  .-lui'n  t  be  long,  our  neighbours  vow, 

I  only  hope  they  mayn't  Be  wrong — 
They  've  told  us  all  the  way  that  "  now 
We  aha'u't  be  long !  " 

It  'a  coming  it  a  little  strong 

When  carelessly  the  Fates  endow 

.s,,,,,,  people  with  the  gift  of— song  ! 
But  here  we  are— I  think,  somehow, 

We  '11  leave  them  at  the  "  restauroug." 
To  such  a  uoisy  party  now 
We  shaVt  belong ! 


Clever  by  Half." 

TOMMY  aiid  JOHN.NIB  were  boys  at  school, 
TOMMY  was  clever,  but  JOHN  MB  a  fool ; 
TOMAIY  at  lessons  was  sharp  and  bright, 
JOHNNIE  could  never  do  anything  right. 
Genius  often  is  known  to  fail; 
TOMMY  turned  forger,  and  went  to  jail. 
JOHNNIE,  though  slow  as  he  well  could  be, 
Plodded  away  and  became  M.P. 


At   Berlin. 

Wilhtlm  the  Wilful  (to  the.  Imperiul  ('/,„,<- 
cellur).  Greece,  Sir !  Don't  talk  to  me  of 
Greece !  Melt  her  down  at  once ! 

Bui  the  fat  was  a'reudy  in  the  fire. 


IMPRESSIONS  OF  A  PRESENTATION. 

(By  a  Debutante. ) 
STUDY  of  the  weather.     Will  it  be  cold  or  hot  P 
Waiting  for  the  dressmaker,  the  hairdresser,  and  the  attendant 
with  the  feathers  and  iulle. 

Finishing  touches  put  to  one's  train  spread  on  a  sheet  in  the 
drawing-room. 

Following  Mamma  into  the  brougham  after  running  the  gaunt- 
let of  the  buker,  the  butcher-boy,  and  the  driver  of  the  van 
from  the  Stores. 

Taking  up  position  in  the  Buckingham  Palace  Road,  and  nod- 
ding to  friends  and  acquaintances. 

Proceeding  by  jerks  and  starts  into  St.  James's  Park  amidst 
a  crowd  of  not-too-complimentary  sightseers. 

Driving  briskly  through  the  outer  yard  past  the  military  band 
up  to  the  inner  entrance. 

Getting  out  of  the  carriage  and  into  the  room  devoted  to  the 
care  of  outside  wraps.  Up  the  staircase  and  past  the  writing- 
table  and  card-baskets. 

First  room  and  first  wait.  Old  stagers  secure  chairs.  New- 
comers get  as  near  the  barriers  as  possible. 

Gentlemen-at-Arms  objects  of  great  interest.  False  alarms. 
t  luttenng  of  plumes.  Rustle  of  trains.  Officials  counselling 
patience.  General  request  "  to  resume  our  seats." 

March  from  room  to  room.  Long  pause  in  each  apartment. 
Plenty  of  time  for  looking  at  the  pictures  and  getting  a  view  of 
'the  park-like  grounds"  skirting  Grosvenor  Place. 

Nearing  the  Presence.     Disappearance  of  "  gentlemen  in  at- 
tendance upon  ladies  of  their  family."     Getting  into  single  file. 
Close  to  the  great  moment.     Display  of  fuU  length  of  train. 
Court  officials  adepts  in  the  spreading  out  of  drapery. 

Card   passed  from  hand  to   hand.     Name  read  out  with  ex- 
planatory matter  by  Lord  High  Chamberlain. 
The  important  Thirty  Seconds. 

Train  caught  up  and  folded  round  arm,  and  short  rest  in  the 
room  beyond. 

Back  down  the  staircase  to  the  apartment  with  the  wraps. 
Telephonic    communication    with     the     coachman     without. 
Amusing  mutilation  of  names  and  titles. 

A  weary  wait  of  something  under  an  hour  in  the  hall. 
Carriage  announced.     Sharp  drive  back  with  Mamma  to  home 
and  freedom. 

Congratulation  of  friends,  and  drawing-room  tea. 
Quiet  evening,  simple  dinner,  and — thanking  goodness  it's  all 
over — peacefully  to  bed. 

THE  TREE  MOST  UP-TO-DATE. — The  Palm. 


THE  QUEEN'S  COMMEMORATION. 

(A  few  Rumours.) 

IT  is  stated  that  the  Royal  procession  will  be  a  mile  long. 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that  Her  Majesty  will  drive  round 
Greater  London,  through  Brentford,  Finchley,  West  Ham  and 
Croydon. 

It  is  said  that  all  the  provincial  mayors  and  aldermen  will  go 
on  foot  with  the  procession  round  Greater  London.  Their  wives 
and  daughter?  will  follow  in  provincial  flies. 

\\e  hear  that  the  procession  will  be  five  miles  long. 

It  is  reported  that  the  procession  will  include  all  men  who 
have  served  in  the  volunteers,  each  one  armed  with  an  um- 
brella. 

Rumour  says  that  the  procession  will  be  fifteen  miles  long. 

It  is  stated  that  all  persons  now.  or  formerly,  in  official  posi- 
tions throughout  the  United  Kingdom  will  ioin  the  procession. 

We  believe  that  the  last  of  the  Royal  carnages  will  be  followed 
by  all  the  school  children  of  the  metropolis,  two  and  two. 

It  is  understood  that  the  procession  will  be  forty  miles  It ng. 

It  is  rumoured  that  all  the  ratepayers  of  London  will  be  in- 
cluded in  the  procession,  each  one  bearing  the  last  printed  receipt 
pinned  on  the  left  breast. 

It  is  said  that  the'  procession  will  include  the  Sette  of  Odd 
Volumes,  the  London  County  Council,  the  Art  Workers  Guild, 
the  Corporation  of  London,  the  Jacobite  League,  the  Royal 
Academy  of  Arts,  the  Society  of  Architects,  the  Church  and 
Stage  Guild,  the  Two  Pins  Club,  the  Primrose  League,  and  other 
Metropolitan  Societies. 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that  the  procession  will  stretch  in  an 
unbroken  line  round  Greater  London  from  one  gate  of  Bucking- 
ham Palace  to  the  other. 

It  is  thought  that,  this  being  the  case,  Her  Majesty,  to  avoid 
needless  fatigue,  will  leave  the  Palace  by  one  gate  at'the  end  of 
the  procession,  and  will  immediately  re-enter  by  the  otbar  gate 
at  the  head  of  it. 

As  we  go  to  press  we  understand  that  all  statements  as  to  the 
route  or  arrangement  of  the  Royal  procession  are  entirely  un- 
authorised and  premature. 

REFORMS  IN  VARIOUS  FORMS  AT  ETON. — The  Head  Master  says 
:hat  all  matters  of  reform  at  Eton  have  his  best  swishes,  and  shall 
>e  dealt  with  «•«  Woe. 


OUR  Caustic  Critic's  remark  on  British  Society:— "It  is 
divided  into  four  classes — The  Have-beens,  Would-bes,  Haven't- 
>eens,  and  Never-will-bes." 


its 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  6,  1897. 


THE    PLEASURES    OF    HUNTING. 


No.  II.  —To   BE   MOUNTED   BY  A   FHIESD   (WITH  AN   ABNOIIMAL  SENSE   OF   HUMOUR)   ON   A   HORSE  THAT   COMES   DOWN    AT   THREE   FENCES   IN 
SUCCESSION  ;   THEN   TO   HAVE  A   FELLOW   REMARK,    "  HOLLOA  !  ARE   VOU   RIDING   THE   BLIND   HORSE  ?  " 


A  REAL  PALACE  OF  ART. 

["  There  is  every  reason  to  b  lieve  that  the  celebrated  collection  of  pictures 
and  objects  of  Art  formed  by  the  fourth  Marquis  of  HKRTFOBD,  and  aug- 
mented by  the  late  Sir  KICHARD  WALLACE,  has  been  bequeathed  to  the 
nation  by  Lady  WALLACE." — Daily  Chronicle.] 

SINCE  first  that  Tennysonian  Art-Palace 

Rose  in  poetic  vision,  nobler  dream 
Of  Art  than  that  of  HERTFORD  and  of  WALLACE 

On  London  ne'er  did  gleam. 
Ah!     Millions,  after  all,  have  their  utility, 

And  millionaires  are  not  all  Ooulden  calves! 
Midas,  when  moved  to  liberal  nobility, 
Does  not  do  things  by  halves. 
Oh !  budding  VANDEBBILTS,  and  rising  ASTORS, 

Here  is  an  opening  for  enduring  fame  ; 
To  link  for  ever  with  the  Oldest  Masters 

The  very  newest  name. 
Even  a  parvenu  or  novus  homo 

May  be  immortalised  on  easy  terms ; 
And  wealth,  from  works  in  Seville,  Antwerp,  Rome,  ow  e 

Immunity  from  the  worms. 
For  what  are  millions  but  supreme  banality 

To  Midas,  who,  despite  his  gold  must  die, 
Compared  with  that  second-hand  immortality 

Which  they  at  least  can  buy. 
Canvas  and  paint,  though  seeming  transient  trifles, 

Outlive  the  entries  in  to-day's  Court  Journal. 
Time,  who  the  titan  tombs  of  Pharaohs  rifles, 

Owns  Art  almost  eternal. 
For  saints  and  heroes  find  posterity's  strictures 

Perpetually  un-heroing  and  un-sainting  them  ; 
But  put  your  name,  and  fame^— and  purse — in  pictures! — 

'Tis  safer  ev'n  than  painting  them  ! 
MILLET,  who  has  the  fame,  had  not  the  money, — 

Fortune  is  fickle  to  the  folks  who  her  chase, — 
But  if  you  boast  a  cheque-book,  (it  seems  funny,) 
Posterity  you  may  purchase. 


Ah  !     Could  dead  geniuses  ha  "  syndicated," 

Or  "  pool  "  their  own  productions, — goodness  gracious  ! 
The  figures  of  their  "  capital  "  coolly  stated 

WTould  scarcely  look  veracious. 
But  what  a  gracious,  what  a  glorious  gift 

This  most  superb  bequest  of  Lady  WALLACE  ! — 
The  country,  if  not  struck  with  sordid  thrift, 

Should  house  it  in  a  palace. 
A  new  Versailles,  at  cost  of  Vanity  Fair ! 

The  notion  may  incur  the  cynic's  raillery. 
But  such  grand  gifts — and  givers — sure  should  s'lare 
Thanks,  and  a  gorgeous  gallery ! 


NOT  ALL  DIAMONDS. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — The  announcement  that  our  well-beloved 
Sovereign  is  about  to  commemorate  her  Diamond  Jubilee  seems 
to  have  inspired  a  good  many  promoters  of  public  undertakings 
with  the  belief  that  most  of  her  subjects  will,  somehow,  derive 
large  accessions  of  income  during  the  celebration  of  the  Queen's 
glorious  reign.  By  nearly  every  post  I  receive  circulars  inviting 
subscriptions  to  enterprises  of  a  most  varied  nature  conferring 
benefits  on  human  beings,  cats,  dogs,  horses,  and  birds,  but  i>ot 
one  on  myself  or  my  family,  who,  headed  by  my  wife,  are 
already  discussing  extra  allowances  in  order  "  to  see  the  sights 
properly,"  like  our  neighbours  and  their  intimates.  I  am 
an  extremely  loyal  subject,  and  have  already  contributed  some 
fifty  shillings  to  several  lists  on  behalf  of  "  Young  BERTIE,  aged 
eleven  "  (our  youngest  son),  "  Little  Trots  "  (our  youngest  daugh- 
ter), to  say  nothing  of  2$s.  from  our  servants  severally  (I  found 
it  all),  and  eightpence  apiece  from  "Tweet"  (the  canary), 
"Slummy"  (the  cat),  and  "Phisto"  (the  fox-terrier).  "Jor- 
rocks"  the  cob  is  booked  for  two  shillings  on  Monday,  coupled 
with  "  Moofley  "  the  cow.  As  I  write,  there  comes  a  solicitation  to 
join  in  providing  all  the  village-boys  with  medals,  puffs,  pingerbeer, 
and  fireworks  on  Coronation  Day  !  JONATHAN  EDWARD  GRIMBLE. 

P.S. — Have  some  of  these  Presidents  and  Secretaries  any  ob- 
ject in  their  magnificent  endeavours  ? 


Muirn  6,   1PV7.J 


PUNCH,    OK    THE    LONDON    UHAKIVAK1. 


119 


ON  THK   USES  OK  PAKODY. 

IT  was  :i  man  (if  niddi'st.  wits 

Who  dealt  in  vacant    chaff  ; 
He  did  a   little  honk  (if  skits 

To  make   the  pi'iiple   laugh. 

A  fleeting  vogue  such  things  will  win, 

And  ho  w«s  iisked  to  dine, 
To  meet  ;i  many  people  in 

The  literary  line. 

Pride  battled  in  his  breast  with  fear; 

HP.  knew  his  low  degree ; 
He  doubted  if  he  dare  appear 

In  such  society. 

For  here  would  muster  men  of  fame, 

Impaled  upon  his  pen  ; 
If  they  should  recognise  his  name, 

W  hat.  might  not  happen  then  r1 

Stars  of  the  upper  firmament, 

Lights  of  a  lurid  nge, 
Their  dignity  might  well  resent 

A  puppy's  persiflage. 

Nevertheless  the  following  thought 

Set  silly  fears  aside  :  — 
"  I  am  too  much  a  thing  of  naught 

To  be  identified." 

He  went.     The  air  was  thick  with  brains, 

The  language  loud  and  tall ; 
Some  wore  their  locks  like  lions'  manes, 

And  some  had  none  at  all. 

Who    should     his    neighbours     be  ?     H« 
scanned, 

Trembling,  the  dinner-list ; 
A  decadent  (consumptive)  and 

A  lib  taut,  atheist  I 

Both  victims!  Wedged  between  the  bards. 

He  spilled,  with  furtive  shame, 
A  large  hors  d'tevvre  across  the  card's 

White  face  that  bore  his  name. 

Too  late  I     They  saw  it !    Through  the  wall 

He  sent  a  steady  gaze  ; 
When  on  his  ears  began  to  fall 

Polite  and  lavish  praise. 

"But  quite,  quite  excellent !"  they  said, 

"  A  rare  and  generous  jest ! 
Though  other  people's  taste  is  dead, 

You  recognise  the  best. 

"  You  have,  we  know,  a  heart  that  feels 

Beneath  your  cynic  smile  ; 
None  but  a  poet's  touch  reveals 

A  brother-poet's  style." 

Much  gratified,  he  drank  their  toast, 

And  subsequently  laid 
The  naked  facts  before  his  host, 

Who  understood  the  trade. 

"The  publishers,"  said  he,  "regard 

Your  work  as  mainly  sent 
To  serve  the  heavy-hanging  bard 

For  cheap  advertisement. 

"  So  far  from  feeling  inward  pain, 

He  shews  a  sense  of  wit ; 
He  hopes  your  humour  may  attain 

To  make  a  thumping  hit. 

"  Already  tasting  better  times, 

He  sells  by  twos  and  fours  ; 
The  public  has  to  buv  his  rhymes 

To  see  the  point  of  yours." 


THE  MILITARY  DEFENCES  OP  LONDON. — 
It  is  officially  announced  that  the  Thames 
will  oe  shortly  occupied  by  "  The  Blues." 

LENTEN  FARE. — Humble  pie  garnished 
with  small  potatoes  re  I' Amineaine . 


READY-MADE   COATS-(OF-ARMS>  ;    OR,   GIVING   'EM    FITS! 


GEORGE  NATHANIEL,  IPT  EAKL  C-H/-N  OF  THE  PAMIRR  (pprnaUy  granted). 

Anna  :  Quarterly ;  let,  under  a  chief  wavery  ermine  charged  with  a  marquess's  coronet  for  hauteur, 
a  popinjay  rising  on  a  ground  of  undoubted  ability  ;  2nd,  a  i  retail  lyre  employed  duiing  the  european 
concert  cbarged  with  "  wires  "  (trained  improper  "  probably  wholly  inaccurate  ;  3rd,  a  sun  (of  a  peer) 
in  his  meridian  glory  who  (iodines  to  w.t  upon  the  BritUh  Dominions;  4th,  a  lion  erased,  muztled  and 
depressed,  regarding  on  a  bastion  the  flags  of  the  Powers  flowing  in  futility  ;  over  all,  on  an  escutcheon 
if  pretence  "  as  a  minister  of  the  ( rown  "  a  slip  verdant.  Cmt :  A  peacock  in  pride  ruffled  and  dis- 
played proper  rising  from  a  ministerial  bench.  Snpporlert :  On  either  side  an  heraldic  superior  punon 
erect  omniscient  pluming  himself  on  a  garb  highly  proper  lined  »ilk  throughout.  Second  Motto :  "  D.V. 
I  shall  go  higher." 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  FROM  THE  DIARY  OF  TOBY,  M.P. 

House  of  Commons,  Monday,  Feb.  22. — 
Blood  is  thicker  than  whiskey  —  even 
Scotch.  BOB  REID,  though  his  people  come 
from  Dumfriesshire,  and  he  for  more  than 
ten  years  has  represented  the  chief  town  ot 
the  county,  never  forgets  he  was  born  in  th< 
Isles  of  Greece.  From  circumstances  over 
which  he  had  no  control  the  hallowed  place 
was  Corfu.  It  might  have  been  Crete, 
and  at  this  moment,  instead  of  being  a 
leader  at  the  Bar,  an  honoured  Member  of 
the  Commons,  speaking  with  the  authority 
of  an  ex-Attorney-General,  BOB  might  have 
been  a  shock-haired  insurgent,  with  a 
waistband  full  of  pistols,  a  short  skirt  over 
a  portly  paunch,  and  strips  of  dubious 
coloured  calico  twined  round  his  leg  below 
the  knee,  picturesquely  and  economically 
designed  to  serve  the  double  purpose  of 
stockings,  and  preclude  the  costly  exten- 
sion of  trousers. 

It  has  been  ordained  otherwise,  and  to- 
night BOB  found  opportunity  of  delivering 
a  speech  on  behalf  of  his  cousin-islanders 
that  deeply  stirred  the  House.  A  fine, 
frank,  warm-hearted  appeal,  bubbling  over 


with  honest  indignation  at  Turkish  iniquity 
and  diplomatic  deliberation  ;  worth  a 
score  of  more  elaborate  indictments. 

Brisk  debate  throughout,  happily  shew- 
ing how  Housn  of  Commons  of  to-day 
is  as  ready  to  sympathise  with  struggling 
Nationalities  as  it  was  in  CANNING'S  time. 
Sorry  for  PRINCE  ARTHUR  and  his  col- 
leagues on  Treasury  Bench.  SAHK,  from 
whom  no  secrets  are  hid,  tells  me  that 
when  full  disclosure  of  particulars  is 
made  it  will  appear  that  throughout  long 
negotiations  England,  as  represented  by 
the  MARKISS,  will  be  found  to  have  been 
ever  on  the  side  of  Freedom  against  the 
Tyranny  of  the  Turk.  Short  of  running 
amuck  at  the  Great  Powers,  and  plunging 
the  continent  into  war,  the  MARKI*S  has 
toiled  incessantly  for  the  deliverance  of 
Crete.  Diplomatic  usages  prevent  disclo- 
sure being  made  at  present  moment.  So 
Ministers,  tongue-tied,  have  to  bear  the 
odium  of  suspicion  of  helping  the  Sultan 
to  hold  Crete  down,  with  lean  hands 
clasped  round  its  throat. 

Once  PRINCE  ARTHUR,  stung  to  the 
quick,  leaped  to  his  feet ;  seemed  as  if 
the  pent-up  storm  would  burst. 

"  The  Greeks  have  joined  the  Cretans," 


120 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


f  MARCH  6.   1«"7. 


Bob  the  Insurgent !     (Sir  E.  T.  R-d,  Q.C.) 


said  the  SQUIBE  OF  MALWOOD,  "  and,"  he 
added,  with  contemptuous  sweep  of  arm 
towards  Treasury  Bench,  "you  have  joined 
the  Turks." 

"That is "  said  PRINCE  ARTHUR,  pale 

to  the  lips.  How  in  his  wrath  he  might 
have  phrased  the  contradiction  who  shall 
say.  Uproar  of  cheers  and  counter- 
cheers  breaking  forth  he,  standing  at  table, 
had  time  to  compose  himself.  "  That  is 
not  correct,"  he  said,  and  sat  down. 

Business  done. — Brisk  debate  on  bom- 
bardment of  Cretan  Camp. 

Tuesday. — "  I  am  not  an  agricultural 
labourer,"  said  BOBBY  SPENCER  on  a  his- 
toric occasion,  regarding  the  House  of 
Commons  over  the  park  palings  of  his 
shirt-collar. 

"I  am  not  a  naval  authority,"  said 
GEORGE  CURZON  just  now,  edging  away 
from  a  pit  Cap'en  TOMMY  BOWLES  had  dug 
for  him.  These  hints  at  the  negation  of 
biography  are  very  interesting  ;  might  with 
advantage  to  the  world  be  extended. 
GEORGE  CURZON'S  contribution  was  elicited 
in  reply  to  a  question  from  the  Cap'en  as 
to  who  is  in  command  of  the  allied  squad- 
ron in  Cretan  waters.  To  tell  the  truth 
the  old  sea  dog  is  just  now  a  little  nigged 
in  his  humour.  He  did  not  go  to  Con- 
stantinople and  take  tea  with  the  Sultan 
for  nothing.  Had  the  coast  been  left  clear 
for  him  he  might  have  sailed  back  to  the 
Thames  flying  the  Turkish  flag.  At  anchor 
behind  Treasury  Bench  he  might  have  re- 
warded the  Sultan's  hospitality  by  keeping 
friendly  eye  on  his  interests. 

BASHMBAD-ARTLETT  spoiled  his  little 
game.  Cap'en's  pluck  is  unquestioned.  He 
fears  no  man,  not  even  DON  JOSE.  But 
even  he  shrinks  from  appearance  of  com- 
radeship with  the  blatant  Knight  of  Shef- 
field, whose  advocacy  of  the  cause  of  the 
dispenser  of  Medjidiehs  is,  SAKK  says,  more 
damaging  to  his  Majesty  than  would  be 
another  massacre  in  Armenia.  So  Cap'en 
TOMMY,  who  might  in  happier  circum- 
stances have  sat  up  aloft  and  watched  over 


the  poor  misunderstood  Sultan,  sheers  off 
when  SILOMIO  heaves  in  sight. 

Nevertheless  can't  help  having  a  little 
dig  at  the  inoffensive  GEORGE  NATHANIEL. 
But  G.  N.,  though  youthful  in  appearance, 
was  not  born  yesterday ;  effectively  stopf 
possible  examination  on  logarithms  by  pro- 
testing that  he  "  is  not  a  naval  authority.' 
Business  done. — Private  Members  secured 
precious  opportunity  of  Tuesday  night  all 
to  themselves.  House  counted  out  at 
quarter  past  ten.  But  not  till  ATHERLEY 
JONES  and  his  learned  friends,  the  ATTOR- 
NEY-GENERAL and  the  ex-Solicitor-General, 


Stirring  up  the  Judges !     (Ath-l-y  J-n-s,  Q.C.) 


had  agreed  that  if  there  is,  under  the 
British  Constitution,  anything  hopelessly 
faulty,  it  is  the  administration  of  justice 
under  the  Judicature  Acts. 

Thursday. — SAHK  turns  out  to  have  been 
right  in  his  suggestion  about  real  attitude 
of  the  MATIKTSS  on  the  Cretan  question. 
He  has  throughout  been  wrestling  on  side 
of  a  people  rightly  struggling  to  be  free. 
Other  Powers  brought  round  to  this  view  ; 
henceforth  Crete  will  be  delivered  from  the 
thrall  and  the  trail  of  the  Turk.  Greece 
not  thoroughly  happy,  desiring  Crete  for 
her  own.  But  we  can't  have  everything 
we  want.  Great  thing  is,  Crete  is  free, 
and  that  is  sufficient  for  the  day. 

Great,  triumph  to-night  for  LLOYD- 
GEORGE.  Another  step  in  successful  Par- 
liamentary career  achieved  by  sheer  abi- 
lity, lived  up  to  with  unvaried  modesty.  To 
frame  Instruction  on  going  into  Com- 
mittee always  been,  for  technical  reasons, 
work  of  great  difficulty.  To-night  six  Par- 
liamentary hands  essayed  it  with  respect  to 
Education  Bill.  The  youngest  alone  ac- 
complished it. 

Instruction  raised  question  of  popular  re- 
presentation on  direction  of  voluntary 
schools.  PRINCE  ARTHUR  firmly  declined 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  it.  Even 
threatened  to  withdraw  Bill,  if,  by  defec- 
tion in  Ministerial  ranks.  Instruction  were 
carried.  Defection  nevertheless  spread 
apace.  Some  good  Ministerialists  declared 
in  favour  of  principle  of  Instruction,  but 
shrank  from  embarrassing  Government  by 
voting  for  it.  Others  went  all  the  way. 

SEELY'S  case  brought  tears  to  many 
eves  unfamiliar  with  the  fertilising  stream. 
Was  in  favour  of  giving  parents  a  voice  in 
the  management  of  schools,  but  could  not 
vex  the  soul  of  the  best  of  Governments 
by  voting  against  them.  In  a  fine  passage, 
delivered  in  voice  broken  with  emotion,  he 
apostrophised  the  Mothers  of  England. 

"May  they,"  he  was  understood  to  say 
amid  his  sobs,  "  waking  in  the  watches  of 
the  night,  and  reflecting  on  their  little  ones 
going  to  schools  in  which  parental  manage- 
ment has  no  voice,  concentrate  their  at- 
tention on  a  Factious  Opposition.  May 
their  salt  tears,  flowing  down  a  furrowed 
cheek,  fall  upon  its  head  with  the  startling, 
and — so  to  speak— discomfiting  effect  of 
molten  lead." 

Biixinfss  done. — Crete  emancipated  from 
the  Turk. 

Friday. — Effect  upon  Factious  Opposi- 
tion of  SEELY'S  invocation  to  Mothers  of 
Kngland  seen  to-night.  Supplementary 
Estimates  on.  Opportunity  provided  of 
prolonged  debate  on  all  subjects  under  the 

n.  Might,  have  spent  tho  night  on  a 
couple  of  votes,  leaving  dozens  to  spread 
over  other  sittings.  The  Mothers  of  Eng- 
land marshalled  by  SEELY,  too  much  for 
Faction.  Votes  agreed  to  as  rapidly  as 
Chairman  could  put  the  question.  By  nine 
o'clock  appointed  work  accomplished  ;  and 
so  home  to  bed. 

Business  done.  —  Supplementary  Esti- 
mates rushed  through. 


Unmistakable. 

Little  Cliris.  Oh!  Daddy!  a  gen'Iman 
corned  to  see  you  when  you  was  out. 

Daddy.  Indeed  !     Who  was  it  ? 

Little,  Chris.  I  ran't  remember  his  name, 
but  he  had  his  face  mowed  just  like  SLOP- 
i'ER,  what  comes  to  wait. 


MEDICINE  FOR  SOUTH  AFRICA. — MILNER'S 
Safe  Cure. 


MARCH  13,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


121 


X  & 


EXCUSABLE. 

M.  F.  IT.  (justly  irate,  having  himself  come  carefully  round  edge  of  seed-field).   "  BLANK  IT  ALL,  ROGEBSON,  WHAT  's  THE  GOOD  o'  ME 

TRVING   TO   KEEP  THK   F[BLD  OFF   SEEDS,    AND  A   FELLOW   LIKE  YOU   COMING  SLAP   ACROSS   "EM?" 

Hard-riding  Farmer.  "  IT 's  ALL  RIGHT.     THEY'RE   MY  OWN!     AR 'VE   JUST   COMB  OWF.R   MY  NEIGHBOUR'S  WHEAT,   AND  AR 

COULDN'T  FOR  VARY  SHAM(E)  MISS  MY  OWN  SEEADS  ! " 


TO  THE  BAYARD  OF  PEACE. 

f"  Surely  between  these  two  countries  (England 
and  America)  there  stood  an  example  that  there 
was  something  better  than  arms,  however  nobly 
and  grandly  arras  might  bi  illustrated." 

Mr.  Bauard'i  Speeeh  at  the  Farmrell  Banquet 
in  the  City.'] 

"  THE  Great  Ambassador  of  Peace," 

So  Viscount  PEEL  has  fitly  named  you  1 
When  factions  pass  and  wranglings  cease, 

The  few  who  have  abused  or  blamed  you 
Will  own,  that  in  your  too  short  lease 

Of  power,  nought  shamed  you ! 
"  Better  than  arms  "  ?    Aye  !  arms  are  good 

In  patriot  hands ;  but  hearts  are  better, 
When  njeeting  in  true  manly  mood. 

Frank  trust  is  friendship's  true  begetter, 
And  our  sea-sundered  Saxon  brood 

May  nought  else  fetter! 
We're  much  alike,  though  far  apart; 

Fortune  we  front,  nor  find  her  way  hard. 
Strenuous  both  in  field,  in  mart, 

We  work  tremendously,  and  play  hard. 
And  well  you  link  us  heart  to  heart, 

Our  modern  BAYAKD. 
"Kans  peur  i't  sans  reprnclic  "  we  say 

Of  you,  as  of  the  Frenchman  knightly. 
Less  militant  than  his  our  day, 

Yet  you  can  hold  your  own,  politely ; 
And  serve  your  land  in  your  own  way, 

Bravely,  yet  brightly. 
He.  at  the  Battle  of  the  Spurs, 

To  his  own  prisoner  surrendered. 


Well,  we  are  all  your  prisoners, 

By  our  own  hearths,  warm  and  well-fen- 

dered. 
You  leave  kind  thanks  with  England !  Hers 

Are  hereby  tendered! 
Ambassador  of  Peace,  farewell ! 

You  Ye    honoured    England,    and    she 

knows  it. 
Your  time  is  up  ;  'tis  sad  to  tell ; 

We  'rj  sorry  that  you  have  to  close  it. 
Still  Peace's  victories  may  you  swell ! 

And  so,  Sir— Front!!! 


CONCERNING  PALMISTRY. 
(By  One  who  has  looked  into  it. ) 

WHAT  do  I  think  of  it  ?  Well,  it  is  cer- 
tainly very  curious.  Have  I  had  any  im- 
portant event  foretold  ?  Why,  certainly — 
I  was  warned  that  I  would  soon  have  to 
turn  my  back  upon  my  home,  and  within  a 
week  I  left  town  for  a  month's  sojourn  at 
the  seaside. 

Has  my  past  been  revealed  to  me? 
Again,  yes.  I  was  told  that  I  had  got  over 
a  great  disappointment.  That  was  trii,' 
enough,  and  I  had  said  nothing  about  my 
marriage. 

Was  I  ever  foretold  truthfully  great  good 
luck?  Again  the  affirmative.  It  was  sakl 
that  I  should  have  "  much  relief  attended 
by  considerable  pecuniary  profit."  And  al- 
most immediately  I  hoard  that  my  tailor, 
to  escape  bankruptcy,  had  emigrated  to 
Australia. 


Have  I  heard  anything  about  my  line  of 
life?  Yes,  that  I  shall  live  until  I  am  over 
a  hundred.  This  I  fancy  will  surprise  my 
doctor,  who,  however,  is  a  peasimist  in 
matters  of  health. 

And  what  is  my  general  opinion  about 
it?  Well,  considering  all  things — and  I 
am  told  that  my  hand  reveals  a  really  mag- 
nificent intellect — I  truly  believe  that  there 
must  be  something  in  it  I 


On  the  Red  Sea. 

Misi  J)ecima  de  Lackland  (to  Captain 
Midas  MUlo,  who  has  been  "  going  strong  " 
ever  since  Brindisi).  Oh !  how  I  wish  we 
had  met  twelve  months  ago!  [Sighs. 

Captain.  Why  so? 

Miss  Decima.  Because,  you  know,  this 
isn't  leap  year.  \Si0hs  again. 

["Dia  you  rise?"  asked  a  friend  sub- 
sequently of  the  Captain,  who  described 
the  incident  with  much  gusto.  "  Rise !  " 
cried  the  Captain.  "  Rather,  and  hooked 
it!"] 

Meant  as  a  Compliment. 

Shakspeare  Smith  (to  Miss  laguthc,  tifli  r 
production  of  his  new  comedy).  And  what 
did  you  think  of  my  little  piece  the  other 
night  ? 

Mi  as  Lagushe.  I  didn't  pay  the  least 
attention  to  the  play.  All  I  thought  was, 
what  a  cruel  ordeal  the  performance  must 
be  for  j/rni .' 


VOL.  ex  1 1. 


I 


122 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  13,  1897. 


MARCH  13,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


123 


JIB.    AMI    Ml:s.    1'ol.KKl:    WISH   1O  GOODNESS   THEY    HAH    KBIT  TO  THE   M.UN-I:]HE,    AND   NEVF.lt   TKIEII   THAT  TKM1TINU   SlIORT  Cut  ! 


A    PAIR    OF    KIDS    AND    A    HERO. 

ON  Tuesday,  March  Kith,  the  play  of  The  Two  Little  Vaga- 
mls  will  attain  its  200th  performance,  and  Mr.  ALBERT  AUGUS- 
TUS GILMER,  of  the  Princess's  Theatre,  is  to  be  heartily  con- 
gratulated on  having  got  together  a  company  that  plays  so 
admirably  this  strong  melodrama  of  the  genuine  old  Porte  St. 
Mnrtin-Stirrey-cura-Adelphi  type,  in  five  acts  and  eight  scenes, 
lasting  from  eight-  till  eleven,  with  the  excitement  kept  up 
until  the,  fall  of  the  curtain.  Mis*  SVDNKV  KAIKBRUTHKR,  cer- 
tainly a  name  of  good  omen  in  this  instance,  gives  a  most  artisti- 
cally pathetic  rendering  of  Wally,  the  "weaker  brother"  vaga- 
bond ;  and  Miss  KATE  TYNDALI.  plays  Diek,  the  hale  and  hearty 
boy,  in  a  thoroughly  boyish  style  :  and  this  is  the  greatest  praise 
possible.  The  three  villainous  loafers,  represented  by  Messrs. 
(iniNEY,  WALKER,  and  COLEMAN,  are  repulsively  clever;  their 
"make-up"  is  most  artistic,  and  their  acting  most  natural. 
ProbaUy  it  will  run  on  for  another  hundred  nights. 

At  llie  Avenue  Theatre,  Kelson's  Enchantress,  by  RISDEN  HOME 
i.i  une  associated  in  the  song  with  "England.  Home,  and 
Beauty,  represent  ing,  evidently,  NELSON,  the  dramatist,  and 
Lady  HAMILTON),  affords  Mr.  FOIUIES  ROBERTSON  an  opportunity 
of  showing  how  closely  he  can  make  up  to  resemble  NBLSON, 
and  how  touching]?  he  can  represent  the  last  dying  moments 
of  England's  naval  hero.  Beyond  this  the  materials  at  hand 
have  been  thrown  away.  The  dramatist  should  have  dealt 
with  NELSON  as  the  author  of  M  minute  Kt.  Gene  has  done  with 
NAPOLEON  ;  and  surely  the  career  of  Lady  HAMILTON  offers  as  many 
dramatic  opportunities  as  does  that  of  the  French  washerwoman. 
As  it  is,  NELSON'S  enchantress  hasn't  a  chance  ;  and  if  Mrs. 
PATRICK  CAMPBELL  ever  thought  she  had  it  in  this  piece,  it  is 
she,  and  not  the  author,  who  is  to  blame.  Critics  and  public 
unite  in  blaming  authors  when  then-  is  a  failure,  and  never  lay  the 
blame  on  the  shoulders  of  managers  or  actors.  The  dramatist 
is  invariably  "the  whipping  boy."  The  attraction  for  the  nuhlir 
at  the  Avenue  is  In  we  how  Mr.  KDIIHKS  KOBF.RTSON  and  Mrs. 
PATRICK  CAMPBELL  look  as  .NY/wi/i  and  /.IK/I;  Hamilton. 


NATURAL  HISTORY. — The  bear  at  the  Westminster  Aquarium 
must  have  been  worth  a.  "monkey,"  seeing  that  the  jury  in  the 
recent  case  awarded  ">(HI/.  damages. 


WHERE  ARE  THE  MOTORS  OF  YESTERYEAR? 

(Some  Theories  as  to  their  disapptaranee.) 

THAT  like  Hans  Unit  man  n'x  "  barty,"  they  have  taken  the 
automatic  -bit  between  their  teeth  and  moted  away  into  the 
ewigkeit. 

That  they  have  been  bought  up  by  the  Amalgamated  Cab- 
Drivers'  Union,  or  whatever  it  is,  to  serve  as  playthings  during 
the  enforced  leisure  of  strike  periods. 

That,  after  their  pretty  universal  break-down  on  the  opening 
day  last  November,  they  are  being  generally  overhauled,  cleaned 
up.  deodorised,  and  having  the  rattle  taken  out  of  them. 

That  they  will  only  appear  once  a  year,  at  the  Lord  Mayor's 
Show,  to  increase  the  hilarity  of  the  London  crowd. 

That  they  are  being  carefully  preserved  in  sawdust  or  cotton- 
wool, in  order  that  they  may  be  produced  as  objects  of  historic 
interest,  or  monuments  of  inventors'  incapacity,  at  the  centenary 
of  the  much-boomed  "  Emancipation  Day"  in  1996. 

That  they  have  all  started  off  for  the  North  Pole,  as  their 
drivers  affect  nautical  costume. 

That  they  are  lying  low,  till  the  County  Council  provides  UF 
with  a  decently  straight  and  broad  street  in  London,  and  on* 
where  the  pavement  is  left  undisturbed  for  two  consecutive  days. 

That  they  are  being  converted  into  steam-rollers,  or  flying- 
machines. 

That  they  have  been  acquired  by  the  War-Office,  in  order  to 
strike  terror  in  the  hearts  of  possible  invaders,  or  to  transport 
our  microscopic  army  from  the  base  to  the  front  in  time  ol 
hostilities.  The  Cavalry  will  then  become  the  Mounted  Auto- 
mot  ry,  after  the  fashion  of  the  early  British  war-chariots,  the 
horses,  if  any  survive,  being  put  inside. 

That  they  are  being  used  as  bath-chairs  in  Little  Polling! on 
super-Mare  or  some  other  iiuiet  s, -aside  re-ort. 

That  they  are  being  lilted  with  poles  and  shafts,  so  that  nurse- 
or  donkeys  may  b  •  harnessed  to  them. 

That  we  shall  see  them  all  on  Hampstead  Heath  on  Ka~tei 
Monday,  most  probably  as  boat-swings  or  steam-roundabouts. 

That  tie?  have  privately  exploded  and  are  in  BBTthereent,  i.r. 

Lastly,  that  they  have  been  broken  up  by  their  ownns  and  soli] 
!  as  old  iron. 


124 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  13,  1897. 


"  How   DREADFULLY  STOUT  THE  GENERAL   IS  GETTING  !  " 

"Yss,   ISN'T   IT  FORTUNATE?    OTHERWISE  HE  WOULDN'T  BE  ABLE   TO   WEAR   ALL  HIS 
MEDALS  ! " 


"V1CTOKIA  VIOTIS." 
DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — Seeing  that  various 
Victorian  Exhibitions  have  been  arranged 
at  the  Crystal  Palace,  Earl's  Court,  and 
elsewhere,  where  memorials  of  lint  MA- 
JESTY'S glorious  reign  are  to  be  on  view, 
1  venture  to  ask  whether  you  think  there 
would  be  any  possibility  of  disposing  of 
my  unequalled  collection  of  documents 
commencing  "  VICTORIA  by  the  grace, 
&c."?  I  can  guarantee  them  to  be  abso- 
lutely true  specimens,  and  I  will  also  vouch 
that,  extending  as  tiiey  do  over  at  least  a 
quarter  of  a  century,  they  have  cost  me 
a  very  large  sum  of  money  to  bring  to- 
gether. They  would  form  a  splendid 
monument  to  the  integrity  and  courage  of 
the  legal  profession  in  all  its  branches,  as 
well  as  to  inexhaustible  gold-mining  re- 
sources of  the  regions  round  about  Temple 
liar.  These  returns  are  not  "  salted,"  the 
only  "  salted "  being  in  connection  with 
them  was  Yours  expectantly, 

Ax  OLD  BIRD. 
Highflyer  Club,  W. 


From  the  Boards  to  the  Booth. 

[Miss  AI>A  WAUD,  a  well-known  actress,  has  aban- 
doned the  stage  lor  the  Salvauou  Army.] 

No  tragic  tire  may  light  her  brow, 
No  loud  applause  her  passion  soothe  ; 

She  's  left  the  grand  old  playhouse  now, 
But,  still  an  actress,  joined  a  Booth  I 


Too  GOOD  TO  BE  TRUE. — The  "  French 
Expert"  of  the  Daily  Telegraph  says  that 
a  diminutive  and  charming  turban  in  tulle 
festoons,  with  pearls  and  a  grafe,  from 
which  rises  a  graceful  Paradise  plume,  is 
one  of  the  theatre-going  novelties.  This 
head-covering  ought  instantly  to  be  called 
"  Madame  des  Stalles,"  and  ordered  by  the 
Lord  Chamberlain  for  use  at  all  matinees. 


THE    WOTHERSPOONS. 

A  STORY  IN  SCENES. 
III. 

SCENE — Tlie  Drawing-room  of  SPENCER  and  HENRIETTA  WOTHER- 
SPOOK'S  house  in  Sheffield  Gardens,  Campden  Hill.  On  the  walls, 
some  old  prints' and  miniatures;  the  paper  and  hangings  faded  but 
harmonious ;  furniture,  old-fashioned  and  severe,  though  of  good 
design.  Miss  WOTHERSPOON  is  sitting  by  the  Jire,  which  a  homely, 
middle-aged  parlour-maid  is  making  up 

Miss  Woth.  Past  seven  I  Why,  your  Master  used  to  be  home 
long  before  this,  MARIA. 

Maria.  I  've  never  known  him  so  late,  Miss — and  the  night 
you  Ve  come  home  and  all !  But  it 's  my  belief  he  's  been  kep'  at 
the  office  by  business,  or  somethink  o'  that.  He  hasn't  seemed 
himself  this  last  day  or  two. 

Miss  Woth.  (to  herself).  He  can't  have  heard  already! 
(Aloud.)  What  makes  you  think  that,  MARIA  P 

Maria.  He's  been  so  restless  and  excited  like,  and  then  he 
won't  take  proper  care  of  himself — sends  his  dinner  down  hardly 
touched,  till  Cook,  she 's  almost  broken-'arted  about  it.  And 
what 's  the  good  of  my  putting  out  his  thick  flannel  vests  now  the 
mornings  are  turning  chilly,  if  he  won't  put  'em  on  ?  I  'm  sure 
I  'm  thankful  to  have  you  back,  Miss,  for  he  's  not  fit  to  be  left 
alone,  and  /  've  got  no  authority  over  him  ! 

Miss  Woth.  (to  herself).  How  selfish  I've  bpen !  (To  MARIA.) 
There's  your  Master  at  last.  I  hear  his  key.  Run  down, 
MARIA,  and  make  him  change  his  shoes,  and  tell  Kim  I  'm  up  here. 
(To  herself,  alone.)  I  Ve  a  great  mind  to  slip  upstairs.  What  a 
coward  I  am,  afraid  to  meet  my  dear,  good  brother  SPENCER,  who 
never  in  all  his  life ! 

Spencer  (entering,  with  rather  labinind  cheerfulness).  Ah,  ETTA, 
my  dear!  Home  at  last,  eh?  (They  embrace.)  Delighted  to 
have  you  back  again.  Uncommonly  lonely  here  all  by  myself. 
(To  himself.)  Can't  tell  her  the  very  first  thing  1 


Henrietta  (to  herself).  There  is  something  in  his  manner! 
(Aloud.)  How — how  late  you  are,  SPENCER,  dear! 

Spen.  (to  himself).  I  might  lead  up  to  it  now.  (Aloud.)  Why, 
I  'm  afraid  I  am,  rather.  The  fact  is,  I — I  had  to  go  down  to 
Shepherd's  Bush  to — to  see  a  friend.  (Abruptly.)  You  Ve 
scarcely  told  me  anything  about  Scarborough.  Any  pleasant 
people  at  the  boarding-house  ? 

Henr.    (to  herself).  He   hasn't   heard.     If    I    could    only — 
(Aloud.)     Oh,   yes,    one — I   mean — one   or   two,    very    pleasant 
people.     But  about  yourself,  SPEN,  haven't  you  found  it  dread- 
fully dull  in  town  ? 

Spen.  Not  so  dull  as  it  might  have  been,  my  dear.  I  managed 
to Did  you  have  a  comfortable  journey  home  ? 

Henr.  Yes,  I — I  was  very  well  looked  after.  SPENCER,  have 
you  walked  up  to  town  through  the  Gardens,  as  you  promised, 
every  morning? 

Spen.  (guiltily).  Every  morning,  my  dear.  And  very  delight- 
ful I  found  it.  Wonderful  how  the  trees  have  kept  their  foliage. 
Then  the  air's  been  so  mild.  Why,  one  could  sit  about  in  the 
shade  as  if ! 

Henr.  Was  that  quite  prudent  of  you,  SPENCER — if  what  I  Ve 
heard  is  true  ? 

Spen.  (alarmed}.  Prudent.  Why,  what  have  you  heard,  ETTA, 
what  have  you  heard  ? 

Henr.  You  ought  to  remember,  SPEN,  that  it 's  not  as  if  you 
were  a  young  man,  and  any  sudden  change — 

Spe.it.  Ah,  my  dear,  you  may  well  call  it  sudden.  I 'm  sure 
that  if  anyone  had  told  me  a  week  ago  that  one  of  us  would — 
would  fvor  contemplate  matrimony,  I  should  have  laughed  in  his 
face.  I  don't  laugh  now,  ETTA,  my  dear,  I  don't  laugh  now. 

Henr.  (to  herself,  conscieiux-stricken).  Someone  /ia.s  told  him  I 
(Aliniil.)  But — but  are  you  very  unhappy  about  it,  dear? 

Speii.  Unhappy  ?  No,  my  dear.  Love  is  natural  to  us  all. 
We  may  resolve  to  do  without  it,  shut  it  out  of  our  lives  alto- 
gether, but  if  we  do,  ETTA,  we  miss  the  thing  that's  most  worth 
living  for.  I  Ve  come  to  see  that. 


MAK.MI    13,   1897.) 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


125 


tlt-iir.  I)i';ir  SPUN  I  1  never,  never  expected  you  would  take 
that  view  I 

N/*  ii.  -\li,  IYITA,  Line  limls  us  all  out  sooner  or  later — sooner 
or  later.  There  '.s  no  safeguard  against  him — not  even  advancing 
years. 

lli'iir.  (Innl).  Advancing  years!  That's  putting  it  a  little 
strongly,  SPKS  ! 

Nywii.  (yj/MiW).  Well,  perhaps  it  is,  perhaps  it  is.  And  after 
all,  a  i/i i ii  dou't  think  the— er-— disparity  serious,  why  should  I? 
My  only  fear  was  that  a  third  person — 

Henr.  (I'Mji'.rly).  But  that  would  make  no  difference  in  our 
relations,  SPEN.  We  should  go  on  living  here,  exactly  as  before 
— only  there  '11  be  three  of  us  instead  of  two  I 

>;«•/!.  Yes,  yes;  and  you  '11  have  a  companion  while  I'm  away. 
Three  's  company  and  two 's — no,  I  don't  mean  that  precisely, 
but  you  understand. 

Henr.  (hugging  him  enthusianticaUy).  I  do  indeed,  you  dear, 
good,  generous  SPEN.  How  little  I  knew  you!  To  think  that  I 
was  al'iaid  you  might —  •  Oh,  you  don't  know  how  thankful 
1  am  ! 

Spen.  But  my — my  dear  girl,  it's  I  who  should I  assure 

you  I'm  astounded,  absolutely  astounded  by  a  consideration 
which — which  I  hardly  expected. 

Henr.  Surely  you  never  expected  that  I  would  leave  you  as  long 
as  you  wanted  me.  He,  would  never  wish  that. 

>>•/!.  The  poor  old  Dud?  No;  he  bought  this  house  with  the 
idea  t  hat  it  would  be  a  home  for  both  of  us  after  he  was  gone. 
I  've  often  heard  him  say  so. 

n ,  in'.  Yes.  But  I  Hasn't  thinking  of  poor  father  just  then. 
I  meant  fritz  would  never  wish  to  separate  us. 

tfpen.  (bewildered).  Oh,  Fmrss  would  never  wish  it.  And — 
and  who  the  dickens  is  Km  i/, :- 

Henr.  I  forgot  I  hadn't  told  you  his  name.  Why,  your 
future  brother-iu-law,  SPKN.  You  might  have  guessed  that ! 

Spen.  (blankly).  I  might  have  guessed — yes.  So — so  you  're 
going  to  be  married,  HENRIETTA? 

Henr.  Why,  of  course!  What  else  have  we  been  talking 
about  all  this  t  inn-  '•! 

>/«/i.  (t»  liiinxflf).  She  has  no  idea  of  my —  (Aluad.)  To 
be  sure.  I  didn't  quit.  .  Afraid  I  'in  rather  stupid  this  even- 
ing, my  deal1.  But  about  this  fellow  FKITZ.  Who  is  he?  How 
did  you  come  to  meet  him  ? 

Hi  in-.  He  sat  noxt  to  me  at  table  at  Marina  House.  His  name 
Ls  Kim/.  VON  (ii  KI.KK. 

tipe.n.  (iritli  dwoppmoO.  What  I  a  German? 

tli'nr.  Oh,  he  speaks  Knglish  quite  beautifully,  without  the 
slightest — with  scarcely  any  accent  I  And  he  'a  of  Austrian  de- 
scent. He  lielongs  to  a  very  old  family  who  settled  in  Switzer- 
land centuries  ago.  Indeed,  he  could  use  the  title  of  Baron  if 
he  liked. 

,s';«'ii.  Then  why  doesn't  he  like  ? 

Hear.  Oh,  Switzerland's  such  a  democratic  country.  I  sup- 
pose a  title  is  no  use  there. 

.s'pcii.  Well,  there's  some  sense  in  that,  if  he's  not  in  a  posi- 
tion to  keep  it  up. 

Henr.  He's  in  a  very  good  position.  He's  a  great  friend  of 
Lord  COLESHAKTS,  and  he  could  hardly  be  that  unless — — 

Xixii.  But  what  does  he  do  for  a  living  ? 

Henr.  Nothing ;  he  has  property  of  his  own — enough  to  live 
on,  at  all  events. 

Spen.  Well,  you  know  your  own  affairs  best,  ETTA,  and  of 
course,  if  you've  made  up  your  mind  to  marry  some  stout, 
elderly  foreigner — 

Henr.  But  he  isn't  stout — and  he 's  not  elderly.  Why,  he 's 
not  much  over  thirty  ! 

Spen.  Thirty!  Why,  bless  my  soul,  ETTA,  do  you  mean  to 
say —  (Hastily.)  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  dear,  I  beg  your 

pardon.  I'm  afraid  I've  no  right  to (To  himself.)  It,  does 

make  it  easier  to  tell  her ! 

Henr.  When  once  you  know  FBITZ — and  you  will  very  soon, 
SPENCER.  I — I've  asked  him  to  come  to  dinner  to-morrow 
evening. 

.Six'ii.  To-morrow?  Why — er — the  fact  is,  I've  asked  MERCY 
to  (line  with  us  to-morrow. 

7/eiii-.  MERUV? 

>>'n.  I  was  about  to  tell  you,  my  love,  when  we  got  talking  of 
other  matters.  MEKCY  is  the  name  of  the  lady  who  is  going  to 
be  my  wile. 

//.•in-.  Your  wife,  SpKM-Kttl  What,  y<,»  are  going  to  marry, 
tun  ? 

.S/.rii.  A n.l  why  nut,  KTTA,  my  dear,  why  not?  What's  sauce 
for  the  goose  is  No,  that's  not  quite  the  way  to  put  it.  1 

mean  that  if  you  decide  to  take  such  an  important  step,  you  have 
no  right  to  blame  me  for — er — following  your  example. 

Henr.  But    I    dun't    blame    you,   SPEN,    dear.     It's   rather — 


SONGS    AND    THEIR    SINGERS.      No.   XII. 


especially  just  at  first—  But  I  'in  delighted,  ri'ally  delighted. 
For  of  course  I  know  you  would  never  choose  anyone  I  shouldn't 
thoroughly  approve  of  I 

iS'peij.  I — I  hope  not,  my  dear,  I  hope  not.     (To  hiiiwlf. )     If  I 
could  only  be  quite  sure  that  she  'd  look  at  it  in  the  right  way  I 
|.l  tileiux  ;  each  waits  fur  tlie  other  to  speak. 


PARALLEL  PASSAGES; 

OR,    DlCKBKS   AN1>  MOUKRN   DIPLOMACY. 


' '  I  WILL  not,  however,  disguise 
from  your  Excellency  that  my 
instructions  require  me  to  warn 
you  that,  in  case  of  refusal  by 
his  Majesty's  Government,  the 
Great  Powers  have  irrevocably 
determined  not  to  hesitate  at 
any  means  of  compulsion  (d  ne 
reculer  drvant  attain  moyen  de 
ctmtraintf)  if  at  the  expiration 
of  the  delay  of  six  days  the 
withdrawal  of  Greek  ships  and 
troops  from  Crete  has  not  been 
effected.  I  have,  &c." 
JileiUieul  Note  to  the  Greek-  J/i'/i  /•./••/•. 


'Aixow  me  to  express  a  hope 
that  you  won't  reduce  me  to  ex- 
tremities ;  in  saying  wu-h  I 
merely  quote  wot  the  nobleman 
said  to  the  fractious  pennywiukle, 
ven  he  vouldn't  come  out  of  his 
shell  by  means  of  a  pin,  and  he 
conseqvently  began  to  be  af eared 
that  he  should  be  obliged  to 
crack  him  in  the  parlour  door." 
bam  WellertoMr.  Winklt. 


Wait  for  Age. 

'./'«.   "  7s  marriage  a  failure?     I  should  like  to  know!' 
,S'ivii-<ini/-7'nviify.  "My   dear,   when  as  long  as   myself  you 

have   tarried, 

You  will  not  need  much  demonstration  to  show 
That  the  only  true  failure  is— not  getting  Unfed  1 " 


A   MOST   -atMactory   stage  direction   at  the  Lyceum: — "  RP- 
iter   Sir    HK.SKY    IHVINU  as    Itirhuril  tin-    Third."     Mr.    /'nm/i 


enter 


salutes  him,  and  congratulates  him  on  his  recovery. 


THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  13,  1897. 


("  HOW  DREADFULLY  STOUT  THE  GENERAL   IS  GETTING  !  " 

"Yes,    ISN'T   IT   FORTUNATE?    OTHERWISE   HE  WOULDN'T  BE  ABLE  TO  WEAR   ALL  HIS 
HEDALS  ! " 


"ViCTOKIA  VICTIS." 
DKAH  MR.  PUNCH, — Seeing  that  various 
Victorian  Exhibitions  Lave  been  arranged 
at  the  Crystal  Palace,  Earl's  Court,  and 
elsewhere,  where  memorials  of  lU.it  MA- 
JESTY'S glorious  reign  are  to  be  on  view, 
I  venture  to  ask  whether  you  think  there 
would  be  any  possibility  of  disposing  of 
niy  unequalled  collection  of  documents 
commencing  "  VICTORIA  by  the  grace, 
&c."?  I  can  guarantee  them  to  be  abso- 
lutely true  specimens,  and  I  will  also  vouch 
that,  extending  as  they  do  over  at  least  a 
quarter  of  a  century,  they  have  cost  me 
a  very  large  sum  of  money  to  bring  to- 
gether. They  would  form  a  splendid 
monument  to  the  integrity  and  courage  of 
the  legal  profession  in  all  its  branches,  as 
well  as  to  inexhaustible  gold-mining  re- 
sources of  the  regions  round  about  Temple 
Bar.  These  returns  are  not  "  salted,"  the 
only  "  salted "  being  in  connection  with 
them  waa  Yours  expectantly, 

AN  OLD  BIRD. 
Highflyer  Club,  W. 


From  the   Boards  to  the   Booth. 

[Miss  AHA  WAKD,  a  well-known  actress,  has  aban- 
doned the  stage  for  the  Salvation  Army.] 

No  tragic  hre  may  light  her  brow, 
No  loud  applause  her  passion  soothe  ; 

She's  left  the  grand  old  playhouse  now, 
But,  still  an  actress,  joined  a  Booth! 


Too  GOOD  TO  BE  TRUE. — The  "  French 
Expert"  of  the  Daily  Telegraph  says  that 
a  diminutive  and  charming  turban  in  tulle 
festoons,  with  pearls  and  a  grafe,  from 
which  rises  a  graceful  Paradise  plume,  is 
one.  of  the  theatre-going  novelties.  This 
head-covering  ought  instantly  to  be  called 
"  Madame  des  Stalles,"  and  ordered  by  the 
Lord  Chamberlain  for  use  at  all  matinees. 


THE    WOTHERSPOONS. 

A  STORY  IN  SCENES. 
III. 

SCENE  —  Tlie  Drawing-room  of  SPENCER  and  HENRIETTA  WOTHER- 
SPOON'S  house  in  Sheffield  Gardens,  Campden  Hill.  On  the  walls, 
some  old  priuts'and  miniatures  ;  the  paper  and  hangings  faded  but 
harmonious  ;  furniture,  old-  fashioned  and  severe,  though  of  good 
design.  Miss  WOTHERSPOON  is  sitting  by  the  fire,  which  a  homely, 
middle-aged  parlour-maid,  is  making  up 

Miss  Woth.  Past  seven  I  Why,  your  Master  used  to  be  home 
long  before  this,  MARIA. 

Maria.  I  've  never  known  him  so  late,  Miss  —  and  the  night 
you  ve  come  home  and  all  !  But  it  's  my  belief  he  's  been  kep'  at 
the  office  by  business,  or  somethink  o'  that.  He  hasn't  seemed 
himself  this  last  day  or  two. 

Miss  Woth.  (to  herself).  He  can't  have  heard  already! 
(Aloud.)  What  makes  you  think  that,  MARIA? 


won 

touched,  ,  . 

what  s  the  good  of  my  putting  out  his  thick  flannel  vests  now  the 
mornings  are  turning  chilly,  if  he  won't  put  'em  on  ?  I  'rn  sure 
I  m  thankful  to  have  you  back,  Miss,  for  he  's  not  fit  to  be  left 
alone,  and  /  Ve  got  no  authority  over  him  ! 

Misx  Woth.  (ti>  herself).  How  selfish  I've  been!  (To  MARIA.) 
There's  your  Master  at  last.  I  hear  his  key.  Run  down, 
MARIA,  and  make  him  change  hia  shoes,  and  tell  him  I  'm  up  here. 
(To  herself,  alone.)  I  've  a  great  mind  to  slip  upstairs.  What  a 
coward  I  am,  afraid  to  meet  my  dear,  good  brother  SPENCER,  who 
never  in  all  his  life  -  ! 

Spencer  (entering,  with  rather  laboured  cheerfulness).  Ah  ETTA 
my  dear!  Home  at  last,  eh?  (They  embrace.)  Delighted  to 
have  you  back  again.  Uncommonly  lonely  here  all  by  myself. 
(To  himself.)  Can't  tell  her  the  very  first  thing  1 


Henrietta  (to  herself).  There  is  something  in  his  manner! 
(Aloud.)  How — how  late  you  are,  SPENCER,  dear! 

^Spen.  (to  himself).  I  might  lead  up  to  it  now.  (Aloud.)  Why, 
I  'm  afraid  I  am,  rather.  The  fact  is,  I — I  had  to  go  down  to 
Shepherd's  Bush  to — to  see  a  friend.  (Abruptly.)  You  've 
scarcely  told  me  anything  about  Scarborough.  Any  pleasant 
people  at  the  boarding-house  ? 

Henr.    (to  herself).  He   hasn't   heard.     If    I    could    only — 
(Aloud.)     Oh,   yes,    one — I   mean — one   or    two,    very    pleasant 
people.     But  about  yourself,  SPEN,  haven't  you  found  it  dread- 
fully dull  in  town  ? 

Spen.  Not  so  dull  as  it  might  have  bsen,  my  dear.  I  managed 
to Did  you  have  a  comfortable  journey  home  ? 

Henr.  Yes,  I — I  was  very  well  looked  after.  SPENCER,  have 
you  walked  up  to  town  through  the  Gardens,  as  you  promised, 
every  morning  ? 

Spen.  (guiltily).  Every  morning,  my  dear.  And  very  delight- 
ful I  found  it.  Wonderful  how  the  trees  have  kept  their  foliage. 
Then  the  air's  been  so  mild.  Why,  one  could  sit  about  in  the 
shade  as  if ! 

Henr.  Was  that  quite  prudent  of  you,  SPENCER — if  what  I  Ve 
heard  is  true  ? 

Spen.  (alarmed).  Prudent.  Why,  what  have  you  heard,  ETTA, 
what  have  you  heard  ? 

Henr.  You  ought  to  remember,  SPEN,  that  it 's  not  as  if  you 
were  a  young  man,  and  any  sudden  change — 

Spen.  Ah,  my  dear,  you  may  well  call  it  sudden.  I 'm  sure 
that  if  anyone  had  told  me  a  week  ago  that  one  of  us  would — 
would  ever  contemplate  matrimony,  I  should  have  laughed  in  his 
face.  I  don't  laugh  now,  ETTA,  my  dear,  I  don't  laugh  now. 

Henr.  (t/>  herself,  conscience-stricken).  Someone  has  told  him! 
(Aloud.)  But — but  are  you  very  unhappy  about  it,  dear? 

Spen.  Unhappy?  No,  my  dear.  Love  is  natural  to  us  all. 
We  may  resolve  to  do  without  it,  shut  it  out  of  our  lives  alto- 
gether, but  if  we  do,  ETTA,  we  miss  the  thing  that  'a  most  worth 
living  for.  I  Ve  come  to  see  that. 


MARCH  13,  1897.) 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


125 


l/< a  r.  Dear  Si'ENl  1  never,  never  expected  you  would  take 
that  view  I 

Xui-ii.  Ah,  KIT  A,  Love  litul.s  us  all  out  .sooner  or  later — sooner 
or  later.  There,  's  MCI  sale^uard  against  him — not  even  advancing 
years. 

II i'n r.  (Innli.  Advancing  years!  That's  putting  it  a  little 
strongly,  SPEN  ! 

Spen.  (pleased i .  Well,  perhaps  it  is,  perhaps  it  is.  And  after 
all,  if  you  don't  think  the— -er — disparity  serious,  why  should  I? 
My  only  fear  was  that  a  third  person — 

Henr.  (eagerly).  But  that  would  make  no  difference  in  our 
relations,  SPEN.  We  should  go  on  living  here,  exactly  as  before 
— only  there  '11  be  three  of  us  instead  of  two  I 

Spen.  Yes,  yes;  and  you  '11  have  a  companion  while  I'm  away. 
Three's  company  and  two's — no,  I  don't  mean  that  precisely, 
but  you  understand. 

Henr.  (hugging  him  enthusiastically).  I  do  indeed,  you  dear, 
good,  generous  SI-UN.  How  little  I  knew  you  I  To  think  that  I 
was  afraid  you  might —  •  Oh,  you  don't  know  how  thankful 
1  am  ! 

!<iu-n.  But  my — my  dear  girl,  it 's  I  who  should —  I  assure 
you  I  'in  astounded,  absolutely  astounded  by  a  consideration 
which — which  1  hardly  expected. 

Henr.  Surely  you  never  expected  that  I  would  leave  you  as  long 
as  you  wanted  me.  He  would  never  wish  that. 

Spen.  The  poor  old  Dud  ?  No  ;  he  bought  this  house  with  the 
idea  that  it  would  be  a  home  for  both  of  us  after  he  was  gone. 
I  've  often  heard  him  say  so. 

1 1  <  a  i .  Yes.  But  I  wasn't  thinking  of  poor  father  just  then. 
I  meant  Fritz  would  never  wish  to  separate  us. 

Spen.  (bewildered) .  Oh,  KKITZ  would  never  wish  it.  And— 
and  who  the  dickens  is  I1' it  IT/  P 

Henr.  I  forgot  I  hadn't  told  you  his  name.  Why,  your 
future  brother-in-law,  SPKN.  You  might  have  guessed  that  I 

Spen.  (blankly).  I  might  have  guessed — yes.  So — so  you're 
going  to  be  married,  HK MH ETTA  r1 

Hi  in.  \Vhy,  of  course  I  What  else  have  we  been  talking 
about  all  this  i  inn-  - 

Spen.  (to  himself).  She  has  no  idea  of  my —  (Aloud.)  To 
be  sure.  I  didn't  quite- —  •  Afraid  I  'm  rather  stupid  this  even- 
ing, my  deal-.  But  about  this  fellow  FRITZ.  Who  is  he?  How 
did  you  come  to  meet  him  ? 

Henr.  Hi- sat  m>\t  to  me  at  table  at  Marina  House.  His  name 
is  KKITZ  VON  (jrm.Eii. 

SiH'n.  (u-itli  dixiipprocal).  NVhatl  a  German? 

llmr.  Oh,  lie  speaks  Knglish  quite  beautifully,  without  the 
slightest — with  scarcely  any  accent!  And  he's  of  Austrian  de- 
scent. Hi'  belongs  to  a  very  old  family  who  settled  in  Switzer- 
land centuries  ago.  Indeed,  he  could  use  the  title  of  Baron  if 
he  liked. 

,s';w;i.  Then  why  doesn't  he  like? 

Henr.  Oh,  Switzerland's  such  a  democratic  country.  I  sup- 
pose a  title  is  no  use  there. 

Sp>'n.  Well,  there's  some  sense  in  that,  if  he's  not  in  a  posi- 
tion to  keep  it  up. 

Henr.  He's  in  a  very  good  position.  He's  a  great  friend  of 
Lord  COLESHAFTU,  and  he  could  hardly  be  that  unless 

Spen.  But  what  does  he  do  for  a  living  ? 

Henr.  Nothing ;  he  has  property  of  his  own — enough  to  live 
on,  at  all  events. 

Spen.  Well,  you  know  your  own  affairs  best,  ETTA,  and  of 
course,  if  you've  made  up  your  mind  to  marry  some  stout, 
elderly  foreigner- — 

Henr.  But  he  isn't  stout — and  he 's  not  elderly.  Why,  he 's 
not  much  over  thirty ! 

>>•».  Thirty  I  Why,  bless  my  soul,  ETTA,  do  you  mean  to 
say —  (Hastily.)  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  dear,  I  beg  your 

pardon.  I'm  afraid  I've  no  right  to (To  himself.)  It  doe* 

make  it  easier  to  tell  her ! 

Henr.  When  once  you  know  FRITZ — and  you  will  very  soon, 
SPENCER.  I — I've  asked  him  to  come  to  dinner  to-morrow 
evening. 

Spen.  To-morrow  ?  Why — er — the  fact  is,  I  've  asked  MERCY 
to  curie  with  us  to-morrow. 

Hi  n  r.  MERUY  ? 

>'//(•/!.  I  was  about  to  tell  you,  my  love,  when  we  got  talking  of 
other  matters.  MEKCY  is  the  name  of  the  lady  who  is  going  to 
be  my  wife. 

Henr.  Your  wife,  SPKNCEII!  What,  yita  are  going  to  marry, 
too  '( 

Siu-n.  And  why  not,  ETTA,  my  dear,  why  not?  What's  sauce 
for  the  noose  is  No,  that's  not  quite  the  way  to  put  it.  I 

mean  that  it  you  decide  to  take  such  tin  important,  step,  you  have 
no  right  to  blame  me  for — er — following  vour  example. 

Henr.  But    I    don't    blame    you,   SPEN,    dear.     It  's    rather — 


SONGS    AND    THEIR    SINGERS.      No.   XII. 


especially  just  at  first But  I  'm  delighted,  n  nlli/  delighted. 

Kor  of  course  I  know  you  would  never  choose  anyone  I  shouldn't 
thoroughly  approve  of  1 

Spen.  I — I  nope  not,  my  dear,  I  hope  not.     (1'u  him.wlf. )     If  I 
could  only  .be  quite  sure  that  she  VI  look  at  it  in  the  right  way  I 
1-1  tilence;  each  waits  for  tlte  other  to  speak. 


PABALLEL  PASSAGES; 

OR,    Dli'KKNS    AMI    Mol.K.ltS    DIPLOMACY. 


' '  I  WILL  not,  however,  disguise 
from  your  Excellency  that  my 
instructions  require  me  to  warn 
you  that,  in  case  of  refusal  by 
his  Majesty's  Government,  the 
Great  Powers  have  irrevocably 
determined  not  to  hesitate  at 
any  means  of  compulsion  (a  ne 
reculer  devant  auritn  mot/en  de 
contraintf)  if  at  the  expiration 
of  the  delay  of  six  days  the 
withdrawal  of  Greek  ships  and 
troops  from  Crete  has  not  been 
effected.  I  have,  &c." 
Identical  Note  to  the  Greek  Miniver. 


"Aixow  me  to  express  a  hope 
that  you  won't  reduce  me  to  ex- 
tremities ;  in  saying  wich  I 
merely  quote  wot  the  nobleman 
said  to  the  fractious  peunywiukle, 
ven  he  vouldn't  come  out  of  his 
shell  by  means  of  a  pin,  and  he 
conseqvently  began  to  be  afeared 
that  he  should  be  obliged  to 
crack  him  in  the  parlour  door." 
Ham  Welter  to  Mr.  Winkle. 


Wait  for  Age. 

Seventeen.  "Is  marriage  a  failure?     I  should  like  to  know  I1 
.s  i,  i,  iind-Tin-iity.  "My   dear,   when   as   long  as   myself   you 
have   tarri..!. 

You  will  not  need  much  demonstration  to  show 
That  the  only  true  failure  is — not  getting  married  !  " 


A  MOST  satisfactory  stage  direction  at  the  Lyceum: — "Re- 
enter  Sir  HENKY  IKVINU  .is  lli,hni;l  the  Third."  Mr.  1'aiu'h 
•..iliit.s  him,  and  congratulates  him  on  his  recovery. 


126 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[MAuru  13,  1S97. 


Child  Guest  to  Child  Host. 


WHAT,  NOT  RKMEMBKR  ME?     WHY,  I  WAS  YOUR  HOTHKU'S 
PAGE  AT  HKK  WKIUHNO  !" 


EXCURSIONS  IN  VERSE. 
(In  Hansom  Cabs. ) 

THE  looking-glass,  no  doubt,  was  planned 

For  lovely  woman,  winsome  lass — 

Stern  men,  of  course,  have  ever  banned 

The  looking-glass. 

Yet  you  may  see  a  screaming  farce, 

If  on  the  kerb  you  take  your  stand, 
And  watch  the  hansom  cabs  that  pass. 

They  constitute  the  happy  land 
Where     unobserved  —  he    thinks,     poor 

ass! — 

Vain  man  admires  on  either  hand — 
A  looking-glass! 


THE  CHANNEL  BAROMETER. 

Very  fair. — Really  delightful.  Nothing 
could  be  pleasanter.  Sunshine.  Ozone. 
Does  everyone  a  world  of  good.  Would 
not  miss  such  a  passage  for  worlds. 

Fair. — Yes;  it  is  decidedly  an  improve- 
ment upon  a  railway  carriage.  Room  to 
move  about.  I  don't  in  the  least  mind  the 
eighty  odd  minutes.  If  cold,  you  can  put 
!  on  a  wrap,  and  there  you  are. 

Change.  —  Always  thought  there  was 
something  to  be  said  in  favour  of  the 
Channel  Tunnel.  Of  course,  one  likes  to 
be  patriotic,  but  the  movement  in  a 
choppy  sea  is  the  reverse  of  invigorating. 


Wind. — There  should  bo  a  notice  when 
a  bad  passage  is  expected.  It's  all  very 
well  to  describe  this  as  "  moderate,"  but 
that  doesn't  prevent  the  beastly  waves  from 
running  mountains  high. 

Stormy. — It  is  simply  disgraceful.  Would 
not  have  come  if  I  had  known.  Too  de- 
pressed to  say  anything.  Where  is  the 
steward  ? 

Gale. — Why — was — I — ever — born  ? 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

The  Amateur  Prima  Donna  of  an  Irish  Opera 
having  asked  a  candid  admirer  to  give  his 
opinion  of  her  performance,  he  complies  with 
her  request. 
You  looked,  I  must  confess,  divine, 

A  goddess  in  a  golden  wig ; 
Your  bearing,  too,  was  superfine. 

How  solemnly  you  danced  that  jig  ! 
A  pavane  or  a  minuet 

Might  well  have  matched  your  stately  air. 
I  smiled  to  see  your  face  so  set. 

'Twas  not  the  look  you  're  wont  to  wear  ! 

I  noticed  that  your  laugh  was  hard, 

And  had  a  strange  metallic  twang ; 
And  surely  you  belied  the  bard, — 

Who  wrote  the  ballads  that  you  sang  ? 
I  'in  sure  he  never  meant  that  air 

About  the  Minstrel  and  the  Moon 
Should  be  delivered  like  a  prayer 

That  some  old  witch  would  love  to  croon  ! 

Nor  did  he  wish,  I  note  again, 

In  that  duet  about  the  birds, 
That  you  should  take  the  wrong  refrain 

And  steal  the  luckless  tenor's  words. 
Nor  did  he  rhyme,  in  verse  absurd, 

"  Killarney  "  with  "  my  lover's  cot." 
But  then  perhaps,  as  no  one  heard, 

The  slaughtered  stanza  mattered  not. 

'Twas  well  the  great  composer's  ear 

Was  far  away  upon  this  night ; 
For  had  he  present  been,  I  fear 

He  scarce  could  deem  his  senses  right.' 
Not  but  that  like  an  errant  cat 

Your  voice  upon  the  roof  would  be, 
You  never  got  above  A  flat, 

Although  you  tried  for  Upper  C  ! 

I  hope  you  didn't  speak  your  lines, — 

They  had  so  oft  a  foolish  ring  ! 
And  with  them  mingled  constant  signs 

Of  someone  talking  in  the  wing  ! 
You  so  broke  up  the  author's  wit, 

That  thrice  your  prattle  found  full  stop ; 
In  short  you  made  your  greatest  hit 

When  on  the  boards  you  made  that  flop  ! 

Well,  there,  I  'ye  done  my  task  at  last ! 

My  cruel  criticism  'a  done. 
You  '11  read  this  angry  and  aghast, 

Then  let  me  add  I  write  in  fun  ! 
So,  pray,  your  wrath  and  tears  assuage. 

You  were  nil  cliiiriiiiii;/  I  must  own  ! 
But  still  1  'd  like,  with  righteous  rage, 

To  kick  thut  beastly  baritone  ! 


FROM  OUR  OWN  IRREPRESSIBLE  JOKER 
(doubtless  in  hiding).  —  "I  see  that  the 
recent  Hackney  Show  was  held  at  Isling- 
ton. Surely,  in  common  fairness  and  re- 
ciprocity, there  ought  to  be  an  Islington 
Exhibition  at  Hackney?  I  afso  note  that 
there  is  to  be  a  cookery  demonstration  at 
Niagara  Hall.  Let  us  hope  that  it  will  be 
a  peck-culinary  success." 


PUNCH.    OK   TMK    LONDON   CHAIM  VAIU.-  MARCH   13,  1897 


TENDER   MERCIES! 


DAME  EUKOPA  (to  LITTLE  CRETE).  "DON'T  CRY,   MY  LITTLE  MAN.    I'VE  ASKED  THIS  NICE,   KIND 
TURKISH  POLICEMAN  TO  STAY  AND  TAKE  CARE  OP  YOU!" 

["  It  appears  to  me,  :md  I  believe  it  nppe am  to  all  the  Powers,  that  it  would  be  a  rash  act  to  at  once  withdraw  the  Turkish  Uuopo,  who  aie  really 
thi'  only  safeguard  uguinet  disorder." — Lota  Sa/Mtiry  in  Soute  of  Lords,  Tuetday,  March  2.] 


MAKCII  13,   1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE    LONDON   CJIAIMVAIM. 


129 


A    DOUBTFUL    COMPLIMENT. 

Wife.  "  WELL,  FREDDIE  DEAR,  HOW  DO  YOU  THINK  MY  DOMINO 
SUITED  ME?" 

Husband.  "To  PERFECTION,  MY  DEAB  I    NEVER  SAW  YOU  LOOK 

SO   WELL  I      IN   FACT,    YOU  OUGHT   ALWAVH  TO  WEAR  ONKl" 


ROUNDABOUT  READINGS. 

(Being  smne  selections  from  the  Correspondence  between  Mr.  liobert 
Roundabout,  his  A'ephetv  at  Cambridge,  and  others.) 

No.  IX.— OF  BUMPS  AND  BUMP-SUPPERS— OF  A  VISIT  TO  TOWN— 
Or  LEUIUKE-KOOMS—  OF  A  COUSIN'S  ENGAGEMENT. 

DEAR  UNCLE  BOB, — Of  course  you've  seen  in  the  papers  that 
we  made  our  four  bumps  alright,  we  caught  St.  Luke's  in  forty 
strokes  but  they  wouldn't  acknowledge  it  so  we  had  to  row  on 
till  we  ran  right  over  their  riggers  and  nearly  swamped  them,  it 
we  had  had  another  night  for  racing  we  should  have  gone  head 
for  a  moral  as  St.  Michael's  were  only  half  a  length  away  from 
St.  Luke's  when  we  caught  them,  still  we  shall  get  our  oars  given 
us  for  making  a  bump  every  night  which  is  something.  I  didn't 
get  cooked  any  night  except  Thursday  when  we  had  an  awfully 
tough  job  of  it  and  didn't  catch  them  till  after  the  Railway 
Bridge  and  there  was  a  wind  against  us  in  the  Long  Reach  but  1 
made  up  my  mind  I  'd  stick  to  it  till  I  was  blind  and  at  last  we 
did  it  with  a  rattling  spurt.  I  could  always  tell  when  we  were  on  the 
top  of  another  boat  because  little  PICKFOBD  our  cox  got  quite 
purple  in  the  face  and  foamed  at  the  mouth  and  screamed  all 
sorts  of  rot,  I  thought  he'd  go  mad  and  he's  as  proud  as  a  pea- 
cock because  he  thinks  it  was  all  his  doing  and  we  all  tell  him 
he  's  a  cert  for  coxing  the  Varsity  next  year.  The  Mater  and 
ALICE  and  Aunt  MAROABET  came  up  on  the  Friday  and  saw  us 
make  our  bump  at  Ditton  and  I  think  the  Mater  was  pleased  be- 
cause she  waved  at  me  like  anything,  but  she  cried  a  little  after- 
wards she  sometimes  does.  It  iwas  very  jolly  going  out  of  train- 
ing and  we  had  a  grand  bump-supper  with  any  amount  of  lobster 
mayonaze  and  lots  of  tarts  and  ice  puddings,  we  had  plenty  of 
champagne  too  and  we  were  all  very  happy  but  nobody  got  buffy 
only  excited.  BLADES  and  WILSON  who  are  rowing  in  the  Varsity 
came  in  afterwards  and  sat  with  us  for  about  twenty  minutes  and 
BLADES  made  a  ripping  speech  the  best  1  ever  heard,  he  said  he 
didn't  want  better  chaps  than  us  to  row  behind  him  next  .Ma.\ 
races  and  we  bad  upheld  the  traditions  of  the  old  Boat  Club,  he  's 
a  splendid  man  and  we  're  all  ready  to  dp  anything  in  the  world 
for  him.  My  eye  I  do  hope  I  shall  row  in  our  May  boat.  You 
were  quite  right,  uncle  BOB,  rowing  is  simply  grand  nnd  I'm 
awfully  glad  1  look  it  up.  Besides  you  get  to  be  good  friends 
with  such  a  lot  of  real  good  fellows.  Tatters  is  quite  well,  he 
enjoyed  the  races  immensely  and  ran  along  with  us  every  night 


>•  Iling  and  barking,  he  M.I  .  delighted  with  the  rattles  and  seized 
one  out  of  a  man's  hand  and  ran  nil  with  it  I  never  saw  a  dug 
so  pleased,  he  had  a  tight  this  morning  witb  another  lox-t.-iu.  i 
and  got  the  best  of  it. 

Look  here  uncle  BOB  could  you  put  me  up  over  Sunday  if  I 
could  get  leave  to  come  to  town  next  Saturday.  We  might  do  a 
theatre  together.  I  think  they  'd  give  me  leave  if  you  wouldn't 
mind  writing  a  letter  as  they  're  quite  pleased  with  the  way  1  've 
been  working  this  term.  I  should  like  to  see  you  again  very 
much.  Your  affectionate  nephew  JACK. 

(Answer  to  the  preceding.) 

MY  DEAB  JACK, — I  am  naturally  much  touched  by  your  as- 
surance that  you  would  like  to  see  me  again.  In  these  callous 
and  calculating  days  it  is  something  to  know  that  one  can  always 
rely  on  the  genuine  affection  of  a  nephew — and  such  a  nephew. 
HIHV  shall  I  worthily  entertain  the  laurelled  hero  of  four  trium- 
phant bumps ?  \\  nl  In-  who  has  tasted  the  blazing  joys  of  these 
victories,  who  has  revelled  m  the  fierce  but  (as  1  see  by  your 
letter)  uniutoxicating  delights  of  an  ice-pudding  and  champagne 
bump-supper,  and  has,  glory  of  glories,  been  patted  on  the  back 
l>y  a  rowing  Blue — will  such  a  one,  I  ask  myself,  content  (himself 
with  the  humble  fare  provided  by  the  chef  at  BKOOKS'S,  even 
though  it  be  followed  by  an  excursion  to  the  Gaiety  Theatre, 
where,  they  tell  me.  the  sacred  lamp  of  burlesque  still  burns  as 
brightly  as  ever?  Yes,  perhaps  he  will.  And  in  any  case,  my 
dear  JACK,  I  shall  be  proud  to  put  you  up  on  Saturday  and  to  do 
what  I  can  for  your  amusement.  You  have  been  working  well, 
and  even  Apollo — but  you  know  how  that  god  deals  with  his 
bow.  So  I  enclose  a  letter  for  you  to  show  to  'your  tutor  so  that 
his  stony  heart  may  be  moved  to  grant  you  leave  over  next 
Sunday,  I  undertaking,  as  you  will  notice,  to  look  after  your 
welfare,  and  to  send  you  back  unharmed  to  the  lap  of  your 
Alma  Mater  on  Monday  morning. 

You  have  my  heartiest  congratulations  on  your  four  bumps. 
They  are  a  grand  send-off  for  you  on  your  rowing  career.  You 
need  not  imagine  that  because  we  are  old  fellows  we  have  ceased 
to  care  for  such  things.  \\  hy,  these  are  the  very  things  that  we 
delight  in,  and  by  such  victories  you  youngsters  warm  our  hearts. 
We  too  have  been  in  Arcadia,  and  as  we  send  our  minds  back 
over  the  years  our  pulses  stir  again  with  the  splendour  of  those 
past  aquatic  tussles  when  we  swung  and  spurted  and  panted  and 
shut  our  teeth  and  spurted  again  while  the  yells  and  the  tumult 
of  the  crowd  raced  with  us  along  the  bank.  These  happy  days, 
the  grip  of  our  friends'  hands,  their  cheers,  and  our  own  un- 
alloyed delight  are  what  we  most  remember  when  lecture-rooms 
and  examinations  and — —  I  shall  not  finish  this  sentence,  for 
after  all  I  reverence  lecture-rooms,  and  I  abide  by  examinations. 
They  are  to  me  a  part  of  the  great  British  constitution — two 
words,  by  the  way,  which  I  have  heard  men  articulate  with  diffi- 
culty after  a  bump-supper.  No  more  of  this. 

You  will  have  heard  the  news  of  the  engagement  of  your 
cousin  ADELAIDE  to  Captain  BBCNTON,  but  you  may  not  know  the 
details  of  the  interesting  event.  They  were  staying  at  Short- 
lands,  and  there  the  Hussar  proposed.  She  asked  for  time,  she 
wished  to  consider,  the  surprise  was  so  great.  Thereupon  the 
Captain  became  gloomy,  and  went  out  with  a  double-barrelled 
gun.  ADELAIDE  became  alarmed.  Horror  of  horrors  I  Did  her 
lover  meditate  suicide  ?  She  rushed  after  him.  Soon  she  heard 
two  shots  in  rapid  succession,  \\hat  terrible  determination  I 
Her  worst  fears  were  confirmed,  she  sank  down  on  a  convenient 
bank,  where  the  Captain,  who  shortly  afterwards  arrived  with  two 
dead  rabbits,  found  her  in  a  flood  of  tears,  and  obtained  her  con- 
sent to  their  early  union.  There  's  romance  for  you.  I  look  for- 
ward to  seeing  you  on  Saturday. 

Your  affectionate  uncle,  BOB. 

"  JEANNE,  JEANNETTE,  AND  JEANNETON." 
( Written  by  a  Seafaring  J/an  with  a  "J"  Pen.) 

I  HAD  a  little  sweetheart  and  her  name  was  "  Simple  JANE," 

Heigho  I  her  conduct  was  immoral  I 
She  laughed  at  my  solicitude  and  revelled  in  my  pain. 

Well !  well !  we  both  agreed  to  quarrel  I 
Tlieii  next  I  met  a1  damsel,  who  was  known  as  "Jolly  JENNY,' 

Ha !  ha  I  she  made  the  pieces  jingle  I 
Sin'  always  spent  a  sovereign  when  I  possessed  a  penny, 

So  !  so  !  I  said  I  would  be  single  I 
And  then  I  loved  another  maul,  they  called  her  "  Gentle  JANBT, 

Ah!  mi'!  her  temper  was  her  mother's! 
But  now  she  's  left  this  wicked  world  to  join  a  blessed  planet, 

Heigho  I  why,  hang  it  I  I  'in  another's! 


ADMIRAL  RAWSON'S  SUMMARY.— Ben-in  and  come  out. 


130 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  13,  1897. 


A    CHECK. 


M.  F.  H.  (riding  up  to  old  Rustic,  with  the  intention  of  asking  him  if  he  has  seen  the  lost  Fox).   "  How 

HI    ,    i.        MAOTWTJ?"  fUJ    Tfiief™  f*,nt    o,,ai'-*,n  tjtr  *nni»f\       ""Wmll    1TPOV     SlYTY    Yp.AR_     MlSTER!" 


LONG   HAVE   YOU   BEEN   WOltK- 


IXG  HERE, 


Old  R>istic  (not  seeing  the  point). 


OUE  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

"  THE  Temple  Classics  "  are  gems  of  print  and  binding.     Add  to  ' 
this,  they  are  both  companionable  and  pocketable, — honestly  so, 
of  course.     3.    M.    DENT   &   Co.    of  Aldine  House  have   just 
brought  out  Le  Murte  TJarthur  in  this  dainty  series. 

All  lovers  of  romance  will  thank  me  for  strongly  recommend- 
ing to  their  immediate  attention  the  simple  yet  powerfully  dra- 
matic story  by  MAX  PEMBERTON,  entitled,  Christine  of  the  Hills. 
There  is  not  in  it  one  line  of  description  too  much,  nor  is 
there  any  pause  in  the  action.  The  characters  are  clearly  and 
forcibly  drawn,  and  the  only  puzzle  for  the  reader  is,  how  came 
the  ancient  mariner,  the  "  Old  Sinner  of  Sebenico,"  who  nar- 
rates the  tale,  to  have  obtained  such  an  intimate  knowledge  of 
all  the  details  he  so  graphically  describes  ?  "  There  are  few  that 
have  my  tongue,  Excellency,"  quoth  the  wily  old  rascal,  who  was 
going  to  be  treated  to  a  good  dinner  before  entertaining  his 
entertainer. 

A  delightful  edition  of  dear  old  IZAAK  WALTON'S  Compleat 
Angler,  edited  by  RICHARD  LE  GALLIENNE,  and  charmingly  illus- 
trated by  EDMUND  H.  NEW,  has  been  brought  out  by  enterprising 
JOHN  LANE,  of  The  Bodley  Head.  The  Gallienic  remarks  are 
original,  and  the  illustrations  all  New.  Delightful  are  the  quaint 
pictorial  reminders  of  Waltham  and  its  Abbey,  of  Theobalds,  and 
the  house  built  long  ago  on  the  site  of  Theobald's  Palace,  called 
"Thibbald's  Place,  which,  without  any  breach  of  confidence, 
it  may  be  now  and  here  mentioned,  was  the  scene  of  many  of 
the  events  recorded  in  a  certain  small  work  entitled  Happy 
Thoughts.  "  Well  does  the  Happy-Thought  writer  remember," 
says  the  Baron,  "the  house  and  the  garden,  so  faithfully  repre- 
sented in  this  present  edition  of  The  Cnmpleat  Angler  at  p.  Ill, 
where  many  of  the  happiest  of  Happy  Thought  hours  were  spent. 
Most  dear,  also,  to  the  same  poor  scribbler's  memory  is  the  shady 
lane  (p.  94)  that  led  up  to  that  quaint  old  house."  By  no  one 
will  'his  book  be  more  enjoyed  than  by  the  writer  of  this  brief 
notice. 


NANSEN,  the  explorer,  has  been  taken  up  by  a  Constable,  that 
is,  by  CONSTABLE  &  Co.  of  Westminster,  which  firm  has  pub- 
lished, in  two  big  volumes,  well  illustrated,  the  story  of  the 
Norwegian  Polar  Expedition  undertaken  by  Dr.  FRIDTJOF  NANSEN. 

'Twas  o'er  the  northern  ice, 
Brave  boys, 

We  made  for  NAVBEX'S  goal ; 
But  we  had  to  tack, 
And  to  home  come  bafk, 
A3  we  did  not  tind  that  Pole, 
Brave  boys, 
We  could  not  climb  that  Pole  ! 

There  they  were,  all  ready,  aye  ready,  with  their  books  and 
diaries,  to  act  on  Cap'en  Cuttle's  advice,  and  the  Pole,  "when 
found,"  they  would  have  "  made  a  note  of." 

\\hat  pluck!  what  endurance!  "Strange  things  came  up  to 
look  at  them !  "  and  "  proud  "  as  the  ancient  admiral  were  they 
all  "  of  such  a  bonnie  bark  "  as  was  The  Fram. 

During  the  three  years  they  were  away  walruses  and  bears 
became  as  "  a  drug  in  the  market " ;  while  monsters  were  mono- 
tonous. They  did  not  encounter  a  Caliban,  and  fortunately 
were  not  encumbered  by  the  presence  of  a  Trineulo  and  Stephana. 

The  historic  meeting  between  STANLEY  and  Dr.  LIVINGSTONE 
finda  its  parallel  in  that  of  NANSEN  and  JACKSON. 

Two  solitaries  meet  on  an  ice  plain. 

"  Aren't  you  NANSEN  ?  "  asks  JACKSON,  quite  casually,  as  if  he 
had  come  across  him  accidentally  in  a  club  smoking-room. 

"Yes,  I  am,"  confesses  the  Arctic  explorer,  scorning  all  un- 
worthy subterfuge. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  exclaims  JACKSON,  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you." 

It  is  "simple  comme  Ion  jour!"  So  commonplace  as  to  remind 
us  of  Farmer  GEORGE  saying  to  the  louts  at  Gloucester  New 
Bridge,  "Why,  then  let  us  have  a  huzzay !  "  And  the  whole 
narrative  is  so  plainly  told.  Cheerfulness,  hoi  ciulness,  and  mar- 
vellous endurance,  these  are  the  notes  of  an  explorer's  charac- 
ter ;  and  these  qualities  were  shared  by  Dr.  NANSEN  and  his 
gallant  companions.  THE  BARON. 


MAIICII 


1X97.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


131 


••  I'KKSKNT     HUMPS! 
-ta  In  Mr.  I'liiifh  hi/  n  I'mijunl  .Umirer.) 

WHKS    Kurt  mi"    frowns,    and    things   go 
wrong, 

Ami  life     ci-m-i  i>n  the  "  sliinip," 
To  meet  ;i  hini'-hluck 's  more  than  gold, 
A  certain  ro;i<l  to  luck,  I'm  told, 

To  touch  hi.s  hump. 

Ami  I'Vn  if  Kin-tune  to  one's  pile 

Keeps  adding  lump  on  lump, 
I.est  '.hi1  slioiilij  change,  inn1  ought  to  try. 
Shimlil  oni'  ii   passing  hiinchhack  spy, 

To  touch  his  hump. 

Mere  superstition?     No  one  need 

To  that  conclusion  jump. 
In  truth  a  hunchback,  as  I  state, 
Brings  luck  to  all,  both  small  and  great. 

Who  touch  his  hump. 

Prince  of  all  hunchbacks,  Mr.  Punch, 

Each  trick  in  life  I  'd  trump, 
What  cards  soever  might  be  in, 
If  only  once  my  hnnd  might  win 
To  touch  your  hump! 


si'MMARY  OF  NEWS  FOR  MAKMI. 
(Foreign  1'nlitics  barred.) 

TIIK  weather  has  been  changeable.  Rain 
and  gale  much  in  evidence.  Sunshine  in- 
termittent, and  resembling  moonshine. 

The  intelligence  at  Scotland  Yard  of  the 
customary  character.  The  police  are  under- 
stood to  be  following  a  clue. 

Fashions  much  the  same  as  ever.  Kpau- 
li'ttes  on  ladies'  dresses,  and  floral  adapta- 
tions of  the  7'niir  Eiffel  worn  on  the  left  ol 
low-crowned,  narrow-brimmed  straw  hats. 

Dinners  iii  aid  of  several  charities  an 
being  held.  At  more  tlipn  one  of  them, 
somebody  is  mildly  amusing  about  the  pre- 
sent condition  of  the  British  drama. 

Novels  are  still  produced  at  the  rate  ol 
about  one  in  five  minutes.  Of  these,  five 
per  cent,  are  needed,  and  about  three  pei 
cent.  pay. 

There  have  been  several  accidents  at 
football,  and  the  language  on  the  golf  Iink> 
at  Wimbledon  and  elsewhere  is  choice  and 
distinctly  vigorous. 

Letters  about  the  early  arrival  of  the 
cuckoo  and  the  premature  budding  of  ever- 
screens  find  their  way  to  the  waste-paper 
basket  in  the  editorial  sanctum. 

And  lastly — freshest  item  of  news  of  all 
— Her  Britannic  Majesty  Queen  ANNE  is 
said  to  be  dead. 


In  the  Waterloo  Road. 

Tin-  Hi  r.  .fulinson  Griggs  (who  has  just 
uniriil  fi'nm  Somersetshire.,  to  spurtxiiiuii. 
Inirriiinii  to  catch  the  train  for  Ki'mpton 
1'inl,  i.  Could  you  kindly  point  out  the 
way  to  Lambeth  Palace? 

Sportsman.  Blest  if  I  ever  heard  of  the 
place  I  But  if  you  follow  your  nose  over 
Westminster  Bridge,  it'll  bring  you  to  the 
Aquarium,  H-/IC/T  tin-  sln»i-'x  gn/r«  tn  In 


nff,  tearing  the  Her.   .1  .    <!. 

tpcteUeM. 


"BOTTOM,  THOU  ART  TRANSLATED."  —  Our 
official  obscurantists  in  Trafalgar  Square 
and  at  South  Kensington,  the  wiseacres  of 
the  "Cruet-Stand"  and  the  "  Brompton 
Boilers,"  have  hit  upon  a  new  rendering  of 
the  old  axiom,  "  Ars  est  celare  art*  in." 
They  translate  it  (very  freely)  as  "Art 
should  be  hidden  in  a  cellar." 


READY-MADE    COATS(-OF-ARMS> ;    OR,    GIVING    'EM    FITS!) 


VISCOUNT  ST-NL-Y  OF  Tin  CONGO. 

Anna  :  Quarterly ;  1st,  two  dwarfs  of  the  forest  of  perpetual  night  proper,  journalistically  exploited 
to  the  nines ;  2nd,  a  continent  sable,  crossed  by  a  small  white  bund  issuant  from  the  interior;  3rd,  a  new 
york  herald  blowing  u  trumpet  of  his  own  in  exultation  over  repeated  columns  of  copy  sensational  to  the 
last;  Hli,  a  missionary  of  renown  discovered  in  solitude  near  u-jiji  sable.  Crett :  Out  of  a  demi- 
terrestrial  globe  (southern  hemisphere)  a  spread  eagle  proper  emergent  in  his  glory  gorged  with  honorary 
degrees  (south  latitude),  bearing  in  dexter  claw  an  amcrican  Hag,  in  sinister  an  union  jack.  Sttp~ 
porttrt:  Dexter,  a  neutral  monarch  crowned,  sceptred,  and  hubitcd  proper  in  a  can't-go-frcc  state; 
•sinister,  a  publisher  radiant  charged  in  the  arms  with  a  colossal  profit  on  the  books  of  the  present 
viscount.  Sfrund  motto  :  "  Mr.  Speaker,  I  presume?  "  (on  very  rare  occasions). 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  FROM  TH  R  DIABY  OF  TOBY,  M.P. 

House  of  Commons,  Monday,  March  1. 
— Consecrated  rule  of  debate  in  House  ot 
Commons  that  if  there  appears  on  the 
Orders  notice  to  move  resolution  on  a  par- 
ticular subject  no  Member  may  rush  in  and 
preoccupy  the  ground.  This  makes  ob- 
vious opening  for  little  bit  of  tactics.  In 
ordinary  way,  private  Members  who  can 
muster  forty  adherents  may  force  the  hand 
of  the  strongest  Government,  compelling 
debate  on  any  subject  by  moving  adjourn- 
ment of  House  in  order  to  discuss  it  as  a 
matter  of  urgent  public  importance.  But, 
you  see,  if  such  action  is  apprehended  it 
suffices  for  friend  of  Government  to  give 
notice  of  a  resolution  on  the  particular 
topic,  which  is  straightway  barred. 

HOWARD  VINCENT,  the  Friend  of  Man 
(including  the  Ministry),  much  annoyed  by 
importunate  Radicals  raising  embarrassing 
debates  about  Crete.  Why  can't  they 
leave  it  in  hands  of  best  of  all  Ministries  ? 
Happy  thought.  Place  amendment  on 
paper  promising  to  call  attention  to  state 
of  Crete  and  move  resolution.  "That'll 
spoil  their  little  game."  HOWARD  VINCENT 
said  to  Member  for  Sark.  "  But  a  tricky  lot, 
those  Radicals;  must  be  wary  in  dealing 
with  them.  If  I  confine  my  notice  of  mo- 
tion to  Crete  they  '11  break  out  in  Mace- 
donia, or  return  to  Armenia,  or  cut  in  at 


Constantinople.  Will  try  and  get  round 
me  somehow.  I  'II  be  even  with  them. 
Tell  you  what,  I  Ml  get  a  resolution  made 
in  Germany,  warranted  to  beat  them  off  at 
any  point." 

Experiment  seemed  to  answer  to  a  tin- 
tack.  Never  was  seen  such  a  notice  ol 
motion  (at  the  price).  Didn't  seem  to 
leave  an  opening  through  which  a  Radical 
might  even  peep  at  a  perturbed  Minis- 
try. Having  carefully  erased  the  mark  of 
origin,  H.  V.  placed  resolution  on  the 
paper  and  felt  that  all  was  well.  Had  not 
forgotten  any  possible  avenue  of  attack, 
not  even  the  Balearic  Islands  or  the  vexed 
Bermoothes. 

"  If  any  Radical  can  crawl  through  that 
stockade,"  he  whispered  to  KEXYON-SLA- 
NBT,  "I  forgive  him.  Wonderful  fellows 
those  Germans.  When  they  undertake  to 
make  anything,  from  a  hair-brush  to  a 
House  of  Commons  resolution,  they  do  it 
thoroughly." 

"Right  you  are,"  whispered  back 
KKNYON  SI.ANEY,  and  the  windows  in  the 
adjoining  church  of  St.  Margaret  rattled 
responsive. 

To-day  SQUIRE  op  MALWOOD  comes 
down  prepared  to  move  adjournment 
in  order  to  discuss  as  matter  of  urgent 
public  importance  situation  in  Crete. 
Has  given  PRINCE  ARTHUR  notice  of  his 
intention.  Gage  of  battle  accepted ; 
speeches  prepared  ;  House  crowded.  And 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  13,  1897. 


A  GHO(R)BTLY  VISITANT"! 
(During  the  Discussion  on  the  Voluntary  Schools  /till.) 

Did  Our  Artist's  eyes  deceive  him,  or  did  Sir  John's  astral  body  really  emerge  in  (he  twilight 
and  give  form  to  his  hidden  feelings  ? 


where 's  HOWARD  VINCENT'S  resolution, 
iron-bound,  copper-bottomed,  made  in  Ger- 
many, warranted  for  three  years,  unsink- 
able,  fire-proof,  bomb-proof,  water-proof? 
Why,  the  SPEAKER  has  ruled  that  there  is 
nothing  in  it.  Of  no  account  whatever  as 
bearing  on  motion  for  adjournment !  Worse 
than  all,  a  simple  notice  of  three  lines,  made 
in  London  by  JOHN  DILLON,  effectually 
does  what  H.  V.  elaborately  strove  after. 
It  blocks  the  way  for  to-night,  and  being 
withdrawn  the  wicked  Radicals  will  to- 
morrow have  their  way.  Ignoring  exist- 
ence of  HOWARD  VINCENT'S  masterpiece 
they  will  discuss  Crete  at  length. 

WThich  only  shows  how  uncertain  is  life, 
and  how  unaccountable  its  ways  in  the 
House  of  Commons. 

Business  done. — Got  into  Committee  on 
the  Education  Bill. 

Tuesday. — This  one  of  the  occasions 
when  the  House,  to  which  as  a  rule  no- 
body is  indispensable,  misses  Mr.  GLAD- 
STONE. Debate  admirable,  GEORGE  CURZON 
in  particular  rising  to  fullest  height  of 
Parliamentary  style  yet  reached  by  him, 
and  the  level  has  always  been  high.  But 
only  the  unsurpassable,  unapproachable  fire 
of  Mr.  G.  could  fuse  into  magnificently 
molten  mass  the  questions  of  Crete  strug- 
gling to  be  free,  of  Greece  stretching  out  a 
hand  to  help,  of  the  banded  Powers  with 
irresistible  force  thrusting  it  back. 

In  the  Father's  absence  the  House  wel- 
comed with  peculiar  pleasure  the  interpo- 
sition of  the  Son.  HERBERT  has  earned  the 
rare  and  enviable  position  that  the  House 
would  willingly  hear  him  speak  oftener 
than  he  rises  to  address  it.  His  early 
Parliamentary  career  was  naturally,  per- 
haps gratefully,  overshadowed  by  that 
great  mountain  DON  JOSE  once  adored. 
W  hen  the  mountain  disappeared,  and  there 
was  chance  for  little  hills  to  skip  and  hop, 
HKRBEKT,  resisting  the  temptation,  set 
himself  diligently  to  the  work  of  First 
Commissioner,  laying  the  foundation  of  en- 
during monument  by  carrying  scheme  for 
the  opening  up  of  Westminster  Abbey  and 
the  Houses  of  Parliament  by  a  broader 
vista  from  Parliament  Street.  Out  of  office 
he  has  relapsed  into  access  of  modest  mien 
that  covers  sterling  capacity.  House  quite 
surprised  to  find  him  at  Table  to-night 


championing  the  cause  of  Crete,  hymning 
in  glowing  language  the  griefs  of 
The  Isles  of  Greece,  the  Isles  of  Greece, 

Where  burning  Sappho  loved  and  sung, 
Where  grew  the  arts  of  War  and  Peace, 

Where  Delos  rose,  whmce  Boh  REID  sprung. 

Business  done. — Debate  on  Crete. 


(, 


"  Championing  the  Cause  of  Crete." 
Mr.  H-rb-rt  Gl-dst-ne. 

Thursday. — Another  night  in  Committee 
on  Education  Bill.  Not  exactly  exhila- 
rating ;  lacks  the  charm  of  the  unexpected. 
Only  thing  uncertain  is  at  what  particular 
moment  PRINCE  ARTHUR  will  pounce.  Re- 
membering the  burning  indignation  with 
which  Conservatives  in  Session  of  1893  re- 
sented occasional  application  of  closure,  'tis 
pretty  to  hear  them  hilariously  cheer 
when  to-day  PRINCE  ARTHUR  drops  down 
on  critic  of  Education  Bill  with  remark, 
"  I  beg  to  move  that  the  question  be  now 
put." 

"  Odd,"  says  SARK,  "  how  circumstances 
alter  cases.  When  the  Conservatives  are 


in  Opposition,  they  call  the  closure  'the 
gag  ' ;  when  they  come  into  office,  and  find 
occasion  to  use  it,  they  allude  to  it  by  its 
official  name ;  whilst  the  Liberals,  with 
equal  heat  and  righteous  indignation,  in 
their  turn  talk  about  'the  gag.'  When  the 
Liberals  come  into  power,  things  in  this 
respect  will  be  exactly  reversed.  Natural 
enough ;  what  is  marvellous  is  the  un- 
feigned sincerity  of  conviction  which  at- 
tends achievement  of  crossing  floor  of  the 
House.  To-day,  when  PRINCE  ARTHUR 
pounces,  SQUIRE  OK  MALWOOD  and  JOHN 
MORLEY  flush  with  honest,  pained  indig- 
nation, just  as  in  1893  PRINCE  ARTHUR 
and  DON  JOSE  blushed  for  their  country 
when  closure  was  moved  in  Committee  on 
Home  Rule  Bill,  Gentlemen  of  England 
massed  behind  them  wringing  their  hands, 
lifting  up  their  voice  in  long  lamentation, 
'  Gag !  gag !  1  gag ! ! ! '  We  're  a  rum  lot, 
when  we  come  to  think  of  it." 

Business  done. — Committee  on  Educa- 
tion Bill. 

Friday.  —  The  vision  of  JOHNSTON  of 
Ballykilbeg  is  not  bounded  by  the  coast  of 
Ireland.  If  a  Conservative  Flute  Band, 
assured  in  the  remoteness  of  Bellshill, 
think  they  can  with  impunity  parade  its 
streets,  playing  "  Protestant  Boys,"  "Boyne 
Water,"  and  "Kick  the  Pope,"  they  have 
alreadv  discovered  their  error.  It  appears 
that  the  religious  exercise  was  followed  by 
a  free  fight,  just  as  if  Bellshill  was  the 
floor  of  the  House  of  Commons.  A  Roman 
Catholic,  the  LORD  ADVOCATE  narrated,  as- 
saulted two  of  the  bandsmen,  and  was  ar- 
rested, "the  band  .afterwards  retiring  to  a 
public-ho-ise."  Magistrates  impartially 
convicted  and  imprisoned  Protestants  and 
Catholics. 

BALLYKILBEG  wants  to  know  whether 
playing  Protestant  tunes  in  the  streets  is 
contrary  to  the  laws  of  Scotland  ?  If  so,  is 
the  LORD  ADVOCATE  prepared  to  assent  to 
an  alteration  in  the  law. 

LORD  ADVOCATE  is  not.  BALLYKILBEG 
resumes  his  seat  apparently  discomfited, 
but  actually  successful  in  flashing  on  the 
«alls  of  the  House  of  Commons  an  inte- 
resting picture  of  the  amenities  of  life  in 
hitherto  unrenowned  Bellshill. 

Business  done.  —  Admiral-General — or  is 
it  General-Admiral  ? — Sir  CHARLES  DILKE, 
Bart.,  V.C.,  discourses  at  length  on  the 
condition  of  the  Navy.  A  fortnight  ago 
he  displayed  equal  erudition  and  acumen 
in  respect  of  the  Army.  SARK  says  he  i~ 
equally  all  there  on  such  trifles  as  Foreign 
politics,  and  Local  Government.  The 
Admirable  CRICHTON  was  by  comparison  an 
overrated  personage. 

A  Damp  Club  Associate. 

Jilynlxr  (after  Slimper  has  left).  I  can't 
stand  that  fellow  at  any  price !  He  's  such 
a  ffarful  wet  blanket ! 

Tiffkins.  Yes,  by  Jove!  His  talk 's  like 
sheets  of  rain !  And  he  positively  floods 
the  smoking-room  with  it ! 

Blynker.  Well,  let's  mix  him  and  his 
jabber  with  two  "fours" — neat!  Then  we 
shall  be  dry  again!  [Agreed  iirni.  cmi. 

NOTE  BY  DARBY  JONES. — As  the  spring 
approaches,  evidence  of  regenerated  exist- 
ence is  given  bv  two  species  of  bipeds — 
the  layers  of  odds  and  the  layers  of  eggs. 

WHAT  THE  LONDON  COUNTY  COUNCILLOR 
CANNOT  GRASP. — The  beauty  of  Chelsea 
Reach. 


NEW  FLEET  SIGNAL   ACCORDING  TO  THE 
INTERNATIONAL  CODE. — Cave  Canea ! 


M  \itni  20,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


133 


A  BOOM  IN  NELSON  PLAYS  SEEMS  IMMINENT,  so  PLAYGOERS  MUST  HE  PREPARED  FOR  DIFFERENT  IDEAS  OF  THE  HERO  OF  TRAFALGAR. 


FROM  NORTH  TO  SOUTH. 

(By  a  Nanscnsical  Explorer. ) 

"  THE  awakening  spirit  of  man  reared  its  head  high,  and  peered 
over  that  mysterious  region  that  lies  between  Lincoln's  Inn  on 
the  north,  and  the  great  and  roaring  Strand  on  the  south.  The 
mighty  giant !  The  far-reaching  limhs  of  the  Law  I  In  fact,  the 
dismal  district  of  the  Law  Courts.  To  make  that  passage  from 
the  north  to  the  south  has  often  been  attempted.  It  can,  and 
shall  be  done !  And  I  will  do  it." 

It  was  thus  I  mused  as  early  in  the  month  of  April,  in  fact, 
upon  the  first  day  of  that  month,  I  set  about  the  quest  for  which 
for  long  weeks  I  had  been  preparing.  As  I  leave  my  four-wheeler 
to  take  the  plunge,  how  my  mind  goes  back  to  scenes  I  have  left. 
It  is  the  first  of  April.  A  sunny-Faced  lad  calls  out,  "  Grandad, 
the  pigs  are  in  the  back  garden!  "  An  old  man's  trembling  step. 
They  are  not  there.  "  Yer  April  fool !  "  An  angry  word  ;  and 
then,  as  the  spring-day  sun  goes  down,  the  sound  of  a  stick 
falling  with  measured  beat,  and  the  voice  of  a  child  as  if  in  pain. 
I  wonder  if  they  are  thinking  of  me  at  home  ? 

I  am  well  prepared  for  what  is  before  me.  I  have  not 
washed  for  a  month.  I  have  n  pair  of  bands  to  fasten  round 
my  neck,  and  proclaim  myself  a  practising  barrister,  should 
my  way  be  barred.  Some  foolscap  paper,  neatly  folded  and 
tied  round  with  bright  red  tape,  to  be  flaunted  if  opposition 
be  met  with.  Some  counterfeit  coins,  to  be  passed  if  occa- 
sion should  demand.  As  for  food,  I  have  no  fear.  The  chart 
which  is  before  me  marks  in  red  letters,  "  Refreshment  Bar,"  at 
every  end  and  turn.  The  brightened  faces  of  those  who  pass  out 
in  hurrying  streams,  assure  me  that  the  supplies  still  hold  out. 
So  far  then  all  is  well.  But  the  futurel  What  lies  there  are 
before  me — I  mean,  what  lies  before  me  ? 

As  I  arrive  at  the  inner  door  I  find  it  cunningly  contrived,  so 
that  he  who  comes  out  can  thrust  it  straight  on  the  nose  of  him 
who  comes  in,  who  in  turn  can  re-thrust  it  with  the  same  effect. 
So  here,  on  the  very  threshold  of  this  interesting  region,  I  find 
something  to  engage  my  attention.  A  strong  current  sets  here 
direct  for  Appeal  Court  No.  1.  I  cannot  go  into  court.  I  have 
not  got  clean  hands.  The  course  due  south  has  to  be  pursued. 
One  is  presently  lost  in  a  multitude  of  eddies.  The  sun  is  no 
longer  with  me'.  The  corridors  that  lie  before  me  are  wrapped 
in  gloom.  My  heart  sinks.  But  why?  Did  I  not  know  all 
this  before  I  started  ?  Then  why  did  I  start  ?  I  several  times 
ask  myself  tliis  question.  I  must  have  done  this  aloud,  as  I  hear 
in  the  semi-darkness  the  voice  of  one  saying,  "  He's  tight." 

Still  onward!  I  must  be  noar  the  Courts  of  Chancery.  There 
is  a  drowsy  lull  in  the  air.  I  see  the  old  church  at  home.  The 
collection  bag  comes  round.  What  shall  I  get  this  time,  I 
wonder?  Are  they  thinking  of  me  at  home? 

It  must  be  after  lunch.  The  stream  is  setting  strongly  in  two 
directions.  My  chart  shows  me  that  to  the  right  I  shall  find 
myself  in  the  perils  of  the  Probate  and  Divorce  Division  ;  while 
that  to  the  left  will  gradually  carry  me  to  the  straits  of  Sir 
HENRY  HAWKINS.  I  choose  the  latter.  I  am  getting  nearer. 
The  atmosphere  grows  warmer.  I  hear  sounds  as  it  were  of 
merriment,  rippling  laughter.  I  think  of  home  and  the  panto- 
mime. I  seem  to  hear  the  familiar  cry  of  "  Here  we  are  again  !  " 

I  have  passed  the  straits.     The  tide  rolls  down  a  twisted  stair. 

VOL.  CXH, 


The  doors  again  remind  me  of  those  I  felt  now  so  long  ago.  I 
am  asked  what  my  business  is.  I  make  a  quick  reply.  My 
collar  is  seized.  I  try  to  find  my  bands.  Too  late  I  I  have  got 
the  chuck  I  I  am  in  the  Strand.  I  have  done  the  trick.  The 
deep  peace  of  the  spring  evening  sank  beneficently  over  the 
wearied  spirit.  

THE    SONG    OP    HYBRIAS   THE   NOBMAN. 

(After  the  Greek — and  copy. ) 
[See  the  Athens  correspondence  in  a  daily  contemporary.] 

MY  wealth 's  a  style  of  purple  brand, 

And  some  right  good  cheek,  a  hide  untanned, 

And  sleeve  wherein  I  chuckle  ; 
With  these  I  wire,  I  scribe,  I  show 
Six  Governments  the  way  to  go, 

While  crowned  heads  round  me  truckle. 

Oh— oh— oh— oh ! 

I  '11  make  the  Concert,  hapless  drones, 
Bid  Crete  in  diapason  tones 

To  call  me  King  and  Lord — 

"  H.  N."  's  her  rightful  Lord ! 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

Mr.  Punch  in  his  early  youth-time — Mr.  P.'i  life  is  all  youth- 
time,  but  the  almanack  requires  comparison  of  dates — annually 
gave  the  world  a  .pocket-book,  stray  copies  of  which  are  now 
among  its  most  valued  treasures.  Probably  incited  by  the  great 
Exemplar,  Mr.  BURDETT  has  Ins  pocket-book.  Official  Intelli- 
gence he  calls  the  leaflet,  which  is  published  in  four-horse  vans 
from  the  warehouse  of  SPOTTISWOODK  A  Co.  It  is  now  in  its 
sixteenth  vi-ar,  and  in  matters  of  size  and  fulness  beats  the  moat 
bouncing  boy  of  the  close  of  the  so-called  Nineteenth  Century. 
It  is,  in  sober  truth,  a  marvel  of  compilation,  a  monument  of 
industry.  What  it  does  not  tell  in  regard  of  British,  American, 
and  Foreign  Securities  is  not  worth  knowing.  An  ever-increas- 
ing  difficulty  is  its  size  and  weight.  With  office-rent  so  high 
in  the  City,  merchants,  companies,  and  hanks,  to  all  of  whom 
Burdett's  Official  Intelligence  is  indispensable,  will  soon  have  to 
consider  the  necessity  of  building  a  special  annexe,  fitted  with 
hydraulic  reading-stand,  in  which  to  store  the  Brobdingnagian 
volume. 

More  power  to  your  elbow  and  your  hand,  with  a  pen  in  it,  Mr. 
ANTHONY  HOPE,  and  may  you  give  us  many  and  many  another 
such  a  stirring  romance  as  is  your  latest  PAro.to  to  take  us  out  of 
ourselves,  our  cares,  and  our  troubles,  and  into  the  land  of  pure 
romance!  HOPB  tells  a  fluttering  tale  of  love,  murder,  noble 
heroism,  villainous  treachery,  inducing  the  reader  to  watch  a  sort 
of  point  to  point  race  among  the  characters  until  all  ends  happily, 
and  hero  and  heroine  reach  their  haven  of  well-earned  rest. 
"Espoir!  Eipoir!  C'est  la  premiere  ffuille,"  and  "la  dernicrc 
ffnille"  is  as  good  as  the  first.  All  action,  no  time  wasted  on 
useless  descriptions;  good  stirring  melodrama  told  in  modern 
conversational  style.  No  lover  of  true  hustling  romance  should 
miss  1'hroso.  Of  couse  it  will  bo  dramatised  ;  but  that  operation 
won't  hurt  it  much,  and  the  majority  of  Mr.  ANTHONY  HOPE'S 
admirers  will  still  prefer  it  as  a  book.  THE  BARON. 


134 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  20,  1897. 


THE     TRANSVAAL     CROMWELL. 

Oliver  Kruger.   "  TAKE  AWAY  THAT  BAUBLE  !  " 

[The  judges  of  the  Transvaal  are  made  removable  at  the  will  of  the  Kaad.     (See  "  Sptetator.") 
"The  judges,"  said  the  President,  "would  have  to  abide  by  the  voice  of  the  Volksraad  or  go."— Times,  Feb.  25.] 


MARCH  20,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


135 


(SPOKTiVE  b 

A  disconsolate  L'acalier  is  reminded  by  a  March 
yuti  of  a  Jickle  Maiilan,  anil,  after  dastruuj 
tteath,  is  ciira-l  by  Us  injtucnce. 
I  HKAH  the  howling  of  the  Wind 
The  while  the  nigiit  is  black  and  blind, 

And  rain  gusts  crash  against  the  eavrs, 
The  tempest  shakes  the  fragile  thatch 
And  beats  the  straw  it  cannot  catch 

Like  flail  upon  the  autumn  sheaves. 
I  hear  the  shouting  of  the  Wind 
Calling  for  someone  left  behind, 

Forgotten,  left  too  long  on  earth, 
I  am  the  oue  recalled  at  last 
By  all  the  tumult  of  the  blast 

To  memories  of  May  and  mirth. 
I  heard  the  laughter  of  the  Wind 
Whispered  in  accents  soft  and  kind — 

Ah,  me  1  it  was  so  long  ago  I 
We  called  them  "  ripples  'mid  the  trees  " 
Those  accents  of  the  wayward  breeze 

That  seemed  our  ev'ry  thought  to  know. 
I  heard  the  singing  of  the  Wind, 
A  melody  composed  to  bind 

Our  love  for  ever  and  a  day 
In  one  harmonious  song  of  Spring, 
Teaching  us  how  we,  too,  might  sing 

A  ceaseless  roundelay ! 
I  hear  the  story  of  the  Wind, 
And  thus  to-night  the  moral  find, 

For  now  it  wastes  its  strength  on  me  . 
The  message  inarticulate 
Means,  "  After  all  it 's  good  to  wait." 

Windlike,  like  you,  I  will  be  free  I 


UNVERIFIED  WAK  RUMOURS. 

GKNEKAL,  H-NBY  L-B-OH-BE  has  left  for 
the  Levant  with  a  battery  of  air  guns. 

It  is  rumoured  that  the  Rev.  H-OH  WAT 
PRICE  H-OH-S  has  hoisted  the  Indepen- 
dent flag  over  the  fortification  of  Canea. 

Field  -  Marshal  J-B-MB  KosMoa  J-B-ME 
and  the  Authors'  Brigade  have  been  sent 
out  to  Selino  at  the  expense  of  the  Pub- 
lishers' Union.  They  aro  armed  with  the 
new  Log-rolling  Machine  Gun. 

One  hundred  British  M.P.'s  have  been 
despatched  telegraphically  by  the  SULTAN. 

Mr.  W-LL-AM  W-TS-N  has  taken  out 
letters  of  marque  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life.  His  departing  privateer  is  called  The 
Public  Joy. 

In  consequence  of  the  Armenian  atrocity 
in  South  London,  there  are  rumours  that 
Prince  GEORGE  of  Greece's  torpedo  flotilla 
has  sealed  orders  to  repair  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Thames  and  place  itself  under  the 
orders  of  General  BOOTH. 

The  G-BM-N  EMP-K-B  has  invited  Pre- 
sident KR-O-R  to  block  the  Dardanelles. 

Mr.  GL-D-ST-NE  has  sent  a  postcard  to 
the  leader  of  the  insurgents  urging  him  to 
read  his  monograph  on  HOMEB. 

Mr.  T.  G.  B-WL-S  aud  Sir  ELL-S  ASH- 
M-D  B-HTL-TT  have  been  deputed  to  col- 
lect the  samphire  now  growing  on  the 
Turkish  men-of-war. 

Four  socialists  and  two  Nihilists,  having 
been  entertained  in  the  Prytaneum,  have 
left  Athens. 

(Latest  despatch.) 

Greece  has  been  annexed  by  Crete  with 
the  full  approbation  of  the  Powers. 


At  the  Hotel  Cecil. 

Mrs.  Jawker  (to  Mrs.  Pawker  from  Cin- 
cinnati). So  you're  leaving  to-morrow? 

Mrs.  Pawker.  Yes!  I  guess  we  must 
quit.  Now  that  the  Queen  and  Prince  oi 
Wales  have  both  gone  on  ihe  Continong 
me  and  Mr.  P.  feel  a  kind  o'  lonely. 


BRUTES! 

Juliet.    "DID  YOU   EVER  SEE  A   VOLCANO   IN   COURSE  OF  ERUPTION?" 

Smith.    "No — BUT    ONCE    I    REMEMBER    I    CAME   HOME   VERY    I.ATE  FROM   THE  CLUB,    AND 
MY  WIFE "  [They  understand  one  another. 


At  the   Grand  Military. 

Lady  Busby  (to  Mr.  Haversack).  The 
worst  of  these  meetings  is  that  there  are 
so  many  subs,  about. 


Mrs.  H.  I  quite  agree  with  you.  Why, 
only  just  now  I  saw  young  FLAPPER  of  the 
130th  Foot  walking  about  in  spurs! 

[It  may  be  added  that  young  FLAPPBB 
teas  on  his  tcay  to  the  weighing-room. 


136 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[MAKCII  20,  1897. 


THE    PLEASURES    OF    HUNTING. 

No.  III.— THE  PLEASURE  OI  HAVING  POUNDED   THE  FIELD  AT  A  BIO  WALL   18   RATHER  SPOILED  BY  FINDING  YOU  HAVE  LANDED 
ANYHOW"  IN  A  CUCUMBER-FRAME  BELONGING  TO  THE  MOST  RABID   ANTI-FOX-HUNTER    IN  THE  COUNTY,  AND  KNOWING  THAT  YOUR 
HORSB  IS  GALLOPING  ABOUT  ON  HIS  BOWLING-GREEN  ! 


.THE    WOTHERSPOONS. 

A  STORY  IN  SCENES. 
IV. 

SCENE— The  Drawing-room.  Some  moments  have  passed  since  SPENCER 
has  mentioned  the  fact  of  his  engagement,  and  he  shows  no  disposition 
to  become  more  communicative. 

Henrietta  (impatiently).  Well,  SPEN,  can't  you  see  I'm  dying 
to  hear  all  about  her.  What  is  her  other  name  besides  MERCY  ? 

Spencer  (fading  that  here,  at  least,  he  is  on  safe  ground).  MARI- 
GOLD, my  dear,  MEBCY  MARIGOLD. 

nr?enr'  What  a  pretty  name !     I  don't  remember  meeting 

When  were  you  introduced  to  her  first,  SPENCER? 

Spen.  (with  embarrassment).  Why,  there  was — er — no  regular 
introduction.  It  all  came  about  through  my  walking  up  to  town 
through  Kensington  Gardens.  There  was  a  seat  where  I  sat 
sown  to  rest — occasionally,  you  know.  And  she  was  always 
there  and— whether  it  began  by  my  making  some  remark  about 
the  child 

Henr.  The  child  I  SPENCER,  you're  not  going  to  marry  a 
widow  ? 

Spen.  (reassuringly) .  No,  ETTA,  my  dear,  no.     Ha-ha,  I  'm  not 

quite She  isn't  a  widow,   anyway.     The   child  wasn't  her 

own.     She — she  was  only  in  charge  of  it. 

Henr.  But  I  don't  understand.     How  in  charge  of  it  ? 
Spen.  (moistening  his  lips).  Well,  it's  best  I  should  tell  you 
at    once.     (Desperately.)     She   was  a   sort   of — well,    what  you 
might  call  by  way  of  being — a  nurse,  you  know,  a  nurse. 

Henr.  (to  herself,  horrified).  And  I  told  FRITZ  I  had  no  con- 
lections  his  family  could  possibly —  (Aloud.)  A  nurse, 

SPENCER  !     How  could  you  ?     What  induced  you  to — to Oh 

you  can't  mean  it ! 

Spen.  If  you  knew  all  the,  circumstances,  my  dear Through 

10  fault  of  her  own — no  fault  whatever  of  her  own,  she  would 
lave  been  turned  out  of  her  situation  to  face  the  world  all  alone 

>oor  little  girl,  if 

Henr.  Poor  little  girl?    Then  she's  not Why,  how  old 

is  she,  SPENCER? 


Spen.  'Pon  my  word,  I  couldn't  say,  exactly.  The — the  usual 
age,  I  suppose. 

Henr.  You  must  hare  some  idea.     Is  she  my  age  ? 

Spen.  Your  age  1  Bless  me,  no.  A  good  twenty  years 
younger,  I  should  say. 

Henr.  That  makes  her  twenty-five,  while  you  are SPEN- 
CER, how  can  you  expect  her  to  feel  any  real— —  ? 

Spen.  But  she  does,  ETTA,  that's  the  astonishing  part  of  it, 
she  does.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  that ! 

Henr.  Ah,  SPENCER,  I  can't  think  you  are  acting  wisely  in 
marrying  anyone  so  much  younger  than  yourself. 

Spen.  If  it  comes  to  that,  my  dear,  I  might  remark  that  you 
are  scarcely  the  person 

Henr.  (colouring).  The  two  cases  are  absolutely  different, 
SPENCER.  FRITZ  is  considerably  older  than  this  girl,  and  I  am 
some  years  younger  than  you  are.  And  he  is  of  good,  if  not 
noble,  family,  while  she  is  a — a  domestic  servant. 

Spen.  She  's  very  different  from  the  ordinary  nursemaid^  ETTA. 
When  you  see  her  to-morrow 

Henr.  SPENCER,  you  won't  have  her  here  to-morrow  ?  not  to 
meet  FRITZ  ! 

Spen.  WThy  not  ?     WTho  is  FRITZ  that  he  should ?     I  have 

just  come  from  her.  ETTA.  She  is  staying  with  a  kind  of  relation 
of  hers  at  Shepherd's  Bush.  She  doesn't  seem  very  comfortable 
there,  and  I  hoped  that,  for  my  sake,  at  least,  you  would  have  her 
here  to  stay — just  till  we  are  married,  you  know. 

Henr.  I  can  t ;  you  are  asking  too  much,  SPENCER.  You  don't 
know  FRITZ'S  feelings  about  those  things.  If  he  even  guessed 
that  he  was  going  to  have  a  sister-in-law  who  had  been  in  service, 
he  might — he  might  feel  compelled  to  break  off  our  engagement. 

.Spen.  If  he 's  such  a  snob  as  all  that,  I  shouldn't  say  he 
would  be  much  of  a  loss. 

Henr.  But  I  love  him,  SPEN.  And  it  isn't  snobbery  at  all. 
You  can't  expect  anyone  belonging  to  an  ancient  race  like  the 
VON  GUBLERS  not  to  have  strong  prejudices.  If  you  have  the 
slightest  consideration  for  me,  you  will  not  allow  this  girl  and 
FRITZ  to  meet  for  the  present. 

Spen.  (grimly).  Are  they  to  dodge  one  another  in  and  out  of 
;he  house  like  the  little  man  and  woman  in  a  weather  cottage, 
then.  Is  that  your  idea,  ETTA,  eh  ? 


MAKCII  20,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


137 


II,  in  .  Oh,  SI'K.NC  KII,  if  you  would  but  give  it  up  altogether! 
We  might  hare  been  so  happy  together,  you  aud  I  aud  FRITZ, 
while  now 

.Sped,  (gloomily).  Yes,  this  changes  everything.  I  see  that. 
The  same  house  won't  hold  you  and  me  any  longer,  ETTA.  Well, 
MERCY  and  1  must  look  out  tor  other  quarters,  that 's  all. 

ll<  nr.  But.  Si-ivMKK,  where  would  you  goP  VShy,  our  joint 

income  is  only  just  enough  to ,  and  we  "ve  no  rent  to  pay 

here.  And  you  '<!  never  be  happy  away  from  here  1 

Spen.  I  know  all  that.  It  will  be  a  wrench ;  but  what  can  I 
do?  I  daresay  we  shall  settle  down  somewhere  farther  out  of 
town. 

Henr.  No,  SPUN,  it 's  your  house  as  much  as  mine.  If — if  one 
of  us  must  go,  I  will  be  the  one.  I  sha'n't  mind  it — much. 

Spen.  Nonsense,  HENRIETTA.  Do  you  suppose  I'm  going  to 
let  you  turn  out  of  this  house  when  1  don't  even  know  whether 
tliis  FRITZ  of  yours  is  in  a  position  to  support  you  decently  ? 
You  '11  be  comfortable  enough  here  when  1  'm  gone. 

Henr.  Without  you,  SPEN?  No,  I  should  never  be  comfort- 
able while  I  felt  1  was  the  cause And  then,  there's  the 

furniture  that  was  in  the  old  house  at  Camberwell  when  we  were 
children.  Father  left  it  to  you,  SPENCER,  and  you  must  take  it. 
And  the  portraits,  and  most  of  the  other  things. 

Spen.  JJo  you  think  I  don't  know  it  would  break  your  heart 
to  part  with  'em.  Besides,  we — we  're  not  likely  to  have  much 
room  for  them — in,  lodgings. 

Henr.  Iu  lodgings  I  On,  SPENCER,  it  does  seem  such  a  pity 
we  should  separate  like  this,  such  a  pity  I 

Spen.  (impatiently).  Of  course  it's  a  pity.  And  I  have  been 

hoping But  if  you  insist  on  marrying  a  foreigner  fellow  who 

considers  himself  too  grand  to  associate  with  my  wife,  what  can 
you  expect — what  on  earth  can  you  expect  P 

Henr.  If  she  had  only  been  a  lady,  SPENCER. 

Spen.  A  ladyP  She  is  a  lady.  She's  thoroughly  refined; 
speaks  correct  grammar,  and — and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  It's 
the  merest  accident  that  she  'a  had  to  go  out  as  a  nurse ;  her 
father  was  a  gentleman-farmer,  lost  all  his  money,  through  agri- 
cultural depression,  and  died,  L  believe.  I  should  have  thought, 
HENRIETTA,  I  should  have  thought  this  would  have  softened  your 
heart  to  the  poor  child,  instead  of 

Henr.  But-— but  you  never  told  me  all  that  before  1  So  long 

as  she 's  a  lady SPENCER,  why  shouldn't  we  live  all  four  of  us 

together  ?  It  would  be  much  the  best  plan  1 

Spen.  (dubiously).  If  it  could  be  managed,  my  dear,  if  it  could 
be  managed.  But  it  would  be  rather  a  tight  fit,  and  then — sup- 
pose MEKCY  didn't  get  on  with  FRITZ  ? 

Henr.  She  couldn't  help  it,  FRITZ  is  so  placid  and  even-tem- 
pered that,  even  if  she  wanted  to  quarrel 

Spen.  MERCY  quarrel  1  Why,  she  has  the  sweetest  nature,  the 
gentlest  disposition — couldn't  do  it  if  she  tried  I 

Henr.  Then  they  shall  meet  to-morrow,  and  if  she  is  all  you 
say,  SPENCER,  I  am  sure  FRITZ  would  be  the  first  to How  de- 
lightful it  would  be  if  we  can  only  arrange  not  to  separate  I 

Spen.  We  shall  see,  my  dear,  we  shall  see.  (To  himself.) 
After  all,  if  this  fellow's  confounded  family  pride  should  lead  him 

to ,  it  would  only  save  poor  ETTA  from  an  act  of  downright 

insanity. 

Henr.  (to  herself).  At  the  worst,  FRITZ,  with  his  calm,  practi- 
cal common-sense,  might  make  poor  SPENCKR  see  how  foolishly 
infatuated  he  will  be  if (Aloud.)  Really,  SPBNCBB,  I  'm  be- 
ginning to  feel  quite  hopeful  that  it  will  ah1  come  right,  somehow. 

Spen.  Are  you,  ETTA?     So  am  I,  my  dear,  so  am  I. 


THE  CREWS  ON  THE  RIVER. 

Jteport  (nearly)  in  Common,  Form. 

AGAIN  the  Eights  put  in  an  appearance  at  Putney.  The  first 
embarked  opposite  the  Leander,  and  their  opponents  a  little  lower 
down.  The  coaches  looked  after  matters  from  their  respective 
steam  launches,  and  the  crowd  was,  as  usual,  enormous.  Much 
good  work  was  done.  A  spin  from  The  Doves  to  Hammersmith 
Bridge  was  accomplished  at  thirty-four  strokes  to  the  minute. 
Here  "  Halt "  was  called  and  the  crew  paddled  quietly  to  the 
Limes.  Then  the  men  prepared  for  a  strong  row.  Keeping  to  the 
centre  of  the  river  so  as  to  avoid  the  cross-currents,  they  com- 
menced at  thirty-five  and  gradually  increased  until  they  touched 
forty-two.  Again  there  was  a  pause,  and  after  a  little  further 
paddling  the  crew  disembarked  and  went  home.  Of  course  it  is 
too  soon  to  give  a  final  opinion  upon  the  merits  of  the  competing 
sixteen.  Before  the  race  there  is  plenty  of  time  for  improve- 
ment, and  no  doubt  both  crews  will  take  advantage  of  the  patent 
possibility.  But  writing  at  the  moment  it  is  necessary  to  say 
that  one  of  the  sixteen  does  not  finish  right  home  with  the  handle 
of  his  oar  in  his  chest ;  that  another  skies  his  blade  badly  ;  that  a 


EXAMPLE. 

Uncle  Dick.  "AH  YBS,  CRICKET  is  A  FINE  GAM*,  vo  DOUBT— A 
VERY  FINE  GAME.      BUT   FOOTBALL  NOW  !     THAT  's  TH«  GAMB  TO 

MAKE  YOUR    11 AI K   CURL  !  " 

Hiss  J)ulcie  (meditatively).  "Do  YOU  PLAY  FOOTBAU.  MUCH,  UsoLit" 


third  slightly  feathers  under  water,  and  a  fifth  is  scrappy.  And 
I  say  all  this  that  it  may  be  believed  (by  the  less  thoughtful  of  my 
readers)  that  in  spite  of  evidence  to  the  contrary  I  really  do 
know  something  about  it. 

NOT  O.   K 
(By  a  Slumped  Speculator.) 
OH.  what  a  lot  of  things  depress  the  market  with  uneasiness, 

Catastrophes  that  catch  old  birds  as  much  as  any  tyro ; 
WTe  now  connect  bad  news  each  day  with  names  that  have  the 

sound  of  K, 
As  KHUOEB,  KOTZB,  KAISER,  Crete,  Constantinople,  Cairo. 

Last  year  it  was  about  the  same,  for  crushing  complications  came 
From  CLEVELAND  ;  let  us  calmly  hope  McKiNLEY  may  be  wiser. 

Then  CAMERON  and  Cuba  rose,  and  sent  shares  down  with  news 

like  those 
Of  KRUOER,  KOTZB,  Cairo,  Crete,  Constantinople,  KAISER. 

From  Krugersdorp,  and  from  the  Cape,  news  lowered  prices  on 
the  tape, 

The  Cairo  Court  decided  that  the  Caisse  must  not  pay  what  s  a 
Considerable  sum.  Before,  that  telegram  disturbed  us  more, 

O  KAISER,  KRUOER,  Cairo,  Crete,  Constantinople,  KOTZE! 

In  sympathy,  too,  down  are  sent  the  rails  in  Canada  or  Kent, 
Coolgardie  mines,  and  companies  of  cocoa  or  of  sugar, 

(Excuse  the  rhyme  that  follows)  I  can  only  give  one  reason  why— 
That 's  KAISER,  KOTZE,  Cairo,  Crete,  Constantinople,  KRUOBR. 

NEPTUNE'S  CROSS.— For  further  particulars  apply  during  a  gale 
in  the  channel. 


138 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  20,  1897. 


DISADVANTAGES    OF    THE    MIXED    PARTY    SYSTEM. 

Just  as  Jemmy  Lambold  thought  he  had  secured  the  opportunity  so  long  denied  him,  up  comes  that  young  Rupert  Green. 
"COME  ALONG,  Miss  FORTESCUE  !     Oi'R  DANCE  YOU  PROMISED."         (And  she  keeps  her  promise,  too.) 


A  LENTEN  LAY. 

'Tis  now  tho  jocund  time  of  Lent, 
And  parsons  all  are  most  intent 
Each  as  to  Low  it  should  be  spent, 

Their  views  advancing. 
Have  I  dor.e  anything  they  Ve  taught  ? 
Have  I  denied  myself  in  aught P 
I  fear  not.    Yet— on  second  thought — 

I've  given  up  dancing! 

No  more  I  urge  my  wild  career 

In  "Washingtons"  with  you,  my  dear; 

With  you  no  more  ray  course  I  steer 

In  waltz  entrancing. 
People  may  say,  as  people  will, 
That  balls  are  "  oft "  in  Lent.     True  bill ! 
I  Ve  had  no  invitations.    Still — 

I  'vo  given  up  dancing ! 

One  other  Lenten  exercise 

Of  mine  might  well  excite  surprise — 

I  've  lately  shunned  your  sweet  blue  eyes 

Like  sunshine  glancing  I 
You  're  miles  away  at  Cannes,  'tis  true, 
But  still — to  give  a  man  his  due — 
Just  now  attendance,  dear,  on  you 

I  've  given  up  dancing  I 


NEW  SUBURBAN  DISTRICT  APPROPRIATELY 
NAMED  . — Jerry-cho . 

JOINT   ACTION. —The  Eoman    butchers 
have  gone  on  strike. 


TALK  VERSUS  WORK. 

SUE.NE — A  boudoir  suitably  furnished.  TIME — 
Before  the  meeting  of  "The  Ladies'  Coiujn .« 
fm  the  Discovery  of  Congenial  Employment 
for  Females  with  Nothing  to  do."  MATRON 
at  her  desk  surrounded  by  trades-men's  looks. 
Enter  to  her  PUSHING  SPINSTER. 

Matron  (laying  down  her  fen).  I  can 
give  you  five  minutes. 

Spinster.  You  must  be  very  busy  I 

Matron.  I  am.     What  can  I  do  for  you  ? 

Spinster  (producing  long  programme). 
Do  you  mind  reading  this  ? 

Matron.  You  can  save  time  by  telling 
me  what  it  is  all  about. 

Spinster.  It  is  rather  complicated.  But 
I  may  say  that  the  object  we  have  in  view 
is  to  obtain  the  equality  of  the  sexes. 

Matron.  Then  my  husband  should  also 
be  present ;  but,  unfortunately,  poor  man, 
he  is  hard  at  work  in  the  City. 

Spinster.  So  he  should  be  1  But  I  don't 
want  to  see  him,  but  you. 

Matron.  That  seems  to  be  rather  a 
single-sided  arrangement.  Surely  he 
should  hear  any  advantages  that  you  have 
in  store  for  both  of  us. 

Spinster.  Man  has  selfishly  protected  his 
own  interests  for  centuries. 

Matron.  Indeed!  Well,  the  world  has 
gone  on  very  well,  in  spite  of  it. 

Spinster.  That  is  regarding  the  subject 
from  a  very  low  level.  Our  object  is  to 


teach  our  sisters  that  we  have  a  mission 
that  most  of  us  have  neglected. 

Matron  (laughing).  It  "s  just  as  well  my 
husband  is  not  present.  He  would  de- 
clare that  I  neglect  nothing. 

Spinster.  Fancy  adopting  the  opinion 
of  a  mere  man  I 

Matron.  Why  not,  if  the  judgment  is 
favourable  ? 

Spinster.  I  can  see  that  you  have  never 
seriously  considered  the  responsibilities  of 
the  situation. 

Matron.  Maybe;  but  I  have  a  good 
many  other  matters  claiming  my  atten- 
tion. (Looking  at  her  watch.)  And  that 
reminds  me  that  three  minutes  are  up, 
and  I  can  only  spare  you  two  minutes 
more  for  an  explanation. 

Spinster.  Two  minutes!  Why,  my  dear 
madam,  it  would  take  me  hours  to  de- 
scribe only  a  tithe  of  our  grievances. 

Matron.  If  that  be  so,  I  am  afraid  we 
must  defer  the  recital  to  a  more  favour- 
able opportunity. 

Spinster.  But  you  will  at  least  come  to 
our  congress? 

Matron.  Should  be  delighted,  only,  you 
see,  my  good  girl,  I  have  to  attend  to  the 
house  and  the  children!  [Curtain. 


APPROPRIATE  SHAKSPEARIAN  MOTTO  FOR 
A  FIRM  OP  ADVERTISING  AGENTS. — "Posters 
of  the  sea  and  land." 


PUNCH,   OR   THK   LONDON   CHAKIVARI.— MARCU  20,  1897. 


"YOU   GO  FIKST! 


M AIICH  20,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


141 


MARIAGE    DE    CONVENANCE. 

Union  of  the  Great  Heiress,  Miss  Polly  Xtirts,  n-Uh  the  Hon.  Joe  Eannis. 


Nuptial  Duet. 

MY  PHIZ   IS   MY  FORTUNE, 

SIR,    SHE  SAID, 

SIR,    SUB  SAID, 
MY  PHIZ   IS  MY  FORTTTNF, 

MlSS,    UK  SAID. 

["  A  very  large  annual  saving,  nearly  £17,000,  is  anticipated  as  the  reeull 
of  the  amalgamation  of  the  Apollinaris  and  Johannia  Companies. — Timtt, 
City  Article,  March  11.  "0  happy  pair!"  exclaims  Mr.  Punch.  "What 
an  economical  young  couple  !  "] 


AS  YOU  WERE ! 

["  It  is  said  that,  in  order  to  commemorate  '  the  Diamond  Jubilee,'  the 
fashions  of  this  season  are  to  conform  as  closely  as  possible  to  those  of  1837." 

Daily  Paper.} 

Monday  night. — Greatly  struck  by  this  sentence.  Strange 
that  no  one  should  have  recognised  earlier  that  this  is  by  far  the 
most  appropriate  way  of  honouring  Her  Majesty,  and,  person- 
ally, I  intend  to  put  the  idea  into  practice  at  onoe,  and  bring 
back,  as  far  as  possible,  the  glories  of  sixty  years  ago.  The  true 
object  of  loyalty  must  be,  to  every  thinking  man  .  .  .  Suddenly 
remember  that  I  am  writing  by  electric  light.  No  electric  light 
in  1837,  so  switch  it  off,  and  light  candles.  As  I  was  saying,  the 
true  object  of  loyalty  .  .  .  Horrible  thought!  I  am  using  a 
steel  nib — an  invention  of  recent  and  degraded  years.  After 
much  search,  discover  a  quill-pen;  it  splutters  painfully,  and 
renders  my  writing  quite  illegible.  But  what  does  that  matter, 
when  I  can  reflect  that  I  am  using  the  implement  employed  in  the 
year  of  our  Queen's  Accession  ?  As  I  was  about  to  remark,  the 
true  object  of  loyalty,  to  every  thinking  man  must  be  ...  At 
this  moment  WILLIAM  enters  with  a  Tetter.  He  regards  my 
lighted  candles  with  some  surprise,  and  enquires  whether  the 
electric  light  has  gone  wrong,  as  it  is  all  right  m  the  other  rooms. 
I  take  the  opportunity  of  explaining  my  plan  to  him,  to  which 
he  answers  gravely,  "  Yes,  Sir ; "  but  I  hear  disconcerting  sounds, 
as  of  half-suppressed  guffaws,  directly  he  has  left  the  room.  The 
letter  proves  to  be  from  JONES,  reminding  me  that  I  am  due  to 


visit  him  at  Exeter  to-morrow.  Keimuie  my  unfinished  M -iiu-in  o 
"  ...  to  every  thinking  man  must  be  "...  Strange,  1  have  tor- 
gotten  the  rest  of  it.  Will  goto  bed. 

Tuesday.— While  dressing,  suddenly  remember  that  I  must  go 
to  Exeter  by  coach — no  trains  in  1037.  Alter  many  enquiries, 
fail  to  find  a  coach  running  beyond  Uuildford.  Ought  to  "  post '' 
the  remainder  of  journey,  hut  this  in  too  expensive,  so  determine 
to  stay  at  home.  Walk  to  the  post-oBice  to  send  JONKS  a  wire, 
explaining  reason  of  my  non-appearance.  Luckily  I  remember  just 
in  time  the  gross  anachronism  of  this  proceeding — no  telegraphs 
in  1837!  Will  write  later,  and  ask  JCDSON,  our  Member,  tor  a 
"frank."  Probably  he  will  be  surprised  until  he  understands 
that  it  is  part  of  my  scheme  for  commemorating  the  longest  reign. 

I  announce  my  plan  to  my  family,  who  display  a  deplorable 
want  of  enthusiasm,  especially  when  1  explain  that  dinner  is  to  be 
at  six  o'clock.  Sternly  rebuke  ETHEL,  whom  I  detect  in  the  act 
of  mounting  her  bike.  Bicycles  in  1837,  indeed!  Compel  her  to 
come  in-doors,  and  set  her  to  work  a  sampler.  In  the  afternoon 
I  drive  in  the  park,  and  make  my  footman  ride  postilion,  to  which 
he  greatly  objects.  But  everyone  of  any  position  had  a  postilion 
sixty  years  ago.  In  the  course  of  the  evening,  TOMMY,  my 
youngest  son,  asks  me  to  give  him  a  tennis-raquet  as  his  next 
birthday  present.  1  decline,  explaining  that  there  was  no  lawn- 
tennis  in  1837,  but  that  he  can  have  a  bow  and  arrows,  if  he  likes. 
He  murmurs  at  this  suggestion,  and  is  not  appeased  when  in- 
formed of  my  resolve  to  make  him  wear  a  high  hat  this  year 
whenever  he  plays  cricket.  But,  as  I  point  out,  what  does  his 
personal  comfort  matter,  when  he  has  a  chance  of  displaying  his 
loyalty  ?  Sixty  years  ago  everyone  played  cricket  in  a  top  hat. 

Dine  at  six,  and,  having  got  rid  of  my  wife  and  daughter,  begin 
to  drink  the  two  bottles  of  port  which  every  gentleman  (in  1837) 
used  to  consume  after  dinner.  Doctor  would  say  bad  for  gout — 
what  doctorsh  knowboutitP  Half-don'sh  secoubottl'.  Drinksh 
Queen's  healths.  Feel  alsh-the-better.  Sing  nanthemish-ational 
— no,  nationalanthem — can't  'member  words.  Am'  goin-to-bedsh 
— mush-make  a  lit'-speech  .  .  .  longesh-reign,  y'kuowl 

Wednesday. — Strangely  enough,  1  have  a  severe  headache  this 
morning.  Doubtless  it  is  caused  by  the  early  hour  at  which  I 
dined  yesterday.  But,  if  I  cannot  be  consistent  in  returning  to 
the  ways  of  1837",  I  may  aa  well  abandon  the  scheme  altogether. 
And.  as  my  family  do  not  seem  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  it,  and 
my  friends  are  not  sympathetic,  while  my  servants  unanimously 
threaten  to  give  notice,  perhaps  I  had  better  see  whether  "  The 
Diamond  Jubilee  "  cannot  be  commemorated  in  some  other  way  I 


"THE  SEVENTEENTH  OP   MARCH  IN  THE  MORNING." 
(Extract  from  the  Diary  of  a  true  Son  of  Erin.) 

NIVEB  felt  in  such  trim  in  all  my  life.  Hare  an  excellent 
shillelagh,  and  one  of  the  sweetest  tail-coats  that  ever  yet  was 
seen,  it  seems  to  be  hungering  to  be  trodden  upon,  and  the  day 
the  best  in  the  year  for  a  little  pleasant  diversion.  Look  at  that 
now !  And  all  that  is  wanted  is  a  subject  for  argument. 

But  where  will  I  get  one  P  Everybody  seems  to  have  forgotten 
about  Extra  Taxation.  Not  that  that  mattered  much,  as  there 
was  too  much  agreement  between  friends  and  neighbours.  How 
can  you  break  a  nead  when  there 's  ne'er  a  bit  open  to  discussion  P 

Then,  Home  Rule  was  an  elegant  subject  entirely,  but  it  seems 
to  have  taken  a  back  seat.  Sure  all  the  glories  are  gone,  and 
the  old  country  is  more  distressful  than  ever!  Look  at  that  now ! 

But  that's  not  the  worst  of  it.  Unless  a  gentleman  can  be 
in  two  places  at  once  he  can't  contend  against  himself.  And  here 
am  I  all  alone,  without  a  soul  within  reach  of  a  tap  on  the  head 
for  the  sake  of  a  reminder.  Why,  even  a  Kilkenny  cat  would 
feel  lonesome  without  company.  The  other  cat  is  necessary  for 
a  rollicking  controversy. 

So  there 's  nothing  to  be  said  but  bad  luck  to  peace  and  hurrooh 
for  a  row — when  I  can  get  it  1 

Two  LINKS  WITHOUT  A  NOT. — In  The  Kent  Argus  for  March  6 
appeared  the  following  notice  :  — 

"  The  Thanet  Harriers  will  meet  Kt  11.30  on  Tuesday,  March  9,  at  Broom  - 
field  ;  Friday,  March  12,  at  Herne  Street.  The  Commitlea  requett  that  every 
care  should  be  taken  to  ride  over  seeds,  roots,  and  newly-planted  ground." 

How  liberal  of  the  Committee!  How  nice  for  the  farmers! 
No  more  '"Ware  wheat,  gentlemen!  'Ware  roots,  gentlemen  I 
'Ware  seeds!  "  But  on  we  go,  for'ardy,  for'ardy,  all  among  the 
wheat,  the  roots,  and  the  seeds  of  all  sorts  I  Rare  sport ! 

AXIOM  BY  AN  ENTHUSIASTIC  CYCLIST.— The  wheel,  not  the 
rider,  is  always  tyred. 

GONE  TO  PIECES. — NELSON  at  the  Olympic  and  the  Avenue. 


142 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  20,  1897. 


STABLE    TALK. 

The  General.  "THAT'S  A  FUNNY  SORT  OF  HORSR  YOU'VE  GOT  THERE,  CUTHBERT." 
Cuthbert.  "  YES,  GRAN'PA.     You  SEE   HE  's   BEEN  '  EATINQ   HIS   HEAD   OFF  '  ALL  THE 
WINTER  ! " 


AUGUSTE  EN  ANGLETERRE. 
LONDON. 

DEAR  MISTER, — After  to  have  visited  the 
Bank  and  the  Stockexchange,  I  am  gone 
to  see  the  Tower  of  London.  I  go  by  the 
Railway  under  Ground.  See  there  still  a 
curiosity  of  your  great  town,  of  which  I 
must  speak  in  my  guide. 

I  go  of  good  hour  to  the  station  of  Char- 
ingcross,  and  I  demand  at  the  guichet  a 
ticket  to  the  Tower.  Without  doubt  there 
finds  herself  there  a  station.  Some  mis- 
ters very  pressed,  as  all  the  world  at  Lon- 
don, attend  impatiently  behind  me.  The 
employed  responds,  "  Maclene  !  "  What 
droll  of  exclamation !  It  is  perhaps  an  in- 
terrogation in  the  argot  of  London.  I  re- 
peat therefore,  more  slowly  and  very  dis- 
tinctly, "  Will  you  to  give  to  me  a  ticket 


,  of  first  class  to  go  and  return  to  the  station 
i  of  the  Tower."  "Maelene  I"  repeats  he. 
And  the  misters,  so  pressed,  push  me  still 
more,  and  cry  also  "  Maclene ! "  "  What  is 
this  that  this  is  then  that  this  word  there  ?  " 
I  demand  to  them  very  politely.  Truly  the 
french  language  dates  from  an  epoch  be- 
fore that  of  the  railways  and  of  the  great 
commerce.  For  to  say  a  phrase  as  "  Qu'est-ce 
que  c'est  done  que  ce  mot-la  ?  "  he  wants  the 
infinite  leisure,  the  gracious  calm,  of  a 
library  of  monastery  middle  age,  or  of  a 
saloon  of  the  last  century.  For  the  Rail- 
way under  Ground  he  must  to  say  but 
"  Quoi  ?  "  all  short.  "  What  ?  "  I  demand. 
"  Maclene  !  "  repeat  they  furious. 

Then  one  of  these  misters  says  to  me 
some  words,  which  I  comprehend  at  pain, 
in  britannic  french,  "  Vou  etes  frongse, 
maounsiah?  Je  pahle  frongse.  Maclene  e 


oune  gaU.  Le  gah  vouah  le  touah,  com- 
prenne?"  "Mister,  I  respond  to  him, 
"  I  speak  english.  What  is  then  Maclene  ? 
"  The  station  for  the  Tower,"  says  he.  Thus 
in  fine  I  comprehend,  I  take  the  ticket,  on 
the  which  I  see  the  name  "  Mark  Lane,'' 
and  I  descend  the  staircase.  Naturally  it 
is  not  the  first  time  that  I  voyage  by  the 
Railway  under  Ground.  Truly  I  should 
not  be  desolated  if  it  were  the  last!  But 
must  to  study  all  the  londonian  habitudes. 
I  go  you  to  write  after  that  I  have  voyaged. 
Agree,  &c.,  AUGUSTS. 


"GANDER'S  HOLIDAY." 


AWAY  beside  the  sad  sea  waves 
My  wife  for  change  has  gone ; 

All  household  trouble  thus  she  saves, 
But  I  am  left  alone. 

ii. 
Tis  true  there  still  remain  for  me 

Of  comfort  sundry  crumbs, 
For  at  the  club  I  much  can  be, 

To  mingle  with  my  chums. 

in. 

I  need  not  rise  before  'tis  light, 

Or  go  to  bed  at  ten, 
I  can  sit  up  the  livelong  night 

Like  naughty  single  men. 

IV. 

And  yet  I  miss  her  gentle  tace, 

Her  gentle  chidings,  too, 
Which  tell  me  with  a  quiet  grace 

The  things  I  ought  to  do. 

v. 
So  as  from  daily  work  I  come, 

Oft  to  myself  I  say, 
"  Better  a  hen-pecked  life  at  home 

Thau  gander's  holiday." 


The   Trade  follows  the   Colour. 

Mrs.  Miffkins  (to  pork  butcher),  I  want 
two  pounds  of  sausages.  Which  do  you 
recommend,  Mr.  SLICE,  Oxford  or  Cam- 
bridge ? 

Mr.  Slice.  Well,  ma'am,  I  need  scarcely 
say  that  the  sympathy  of  most  ladies  is 
with  the  Light  Blues  this  year. 


IN  A   SLOW  TRAIN. 

"LooK  out  for  squalls" — on  laud  or  sea — 

Where  duty  or  where  pleasure  calls, 
A  golden  rule  it  seems  to  be, 
Look  out  for  squalls. 

Yet  in  a  train  that  slowly  crawls 
Somehow  it  most  appeals  to  me. 

For  then  sometimes,  it  so  befalls, 
An  infant  on  its  mother's  knee 

In  my  compartment  Fate  instals — 
Which  makes  a  nervous  man,  you  see, 
Look  out  for  squalls  ! 


"  WHEN  Dutch  WILLIAM  canie  over  to 
England  from  Holland  it  was  on  a  King 
Jameson  raid." — Extract  from  very  original 
New  History  of  England,  by  Sir  (J.  B-w-r, 
subject  to  careful  editing  by  Sir  W.  V. 
U-rc-rt. 

TlNDlSQtJISEDLY   IN    Hoi  WATER. — Art    in 

;he  Brompton  Boilers. 


MAID  IN  GERMANY. — A  spinster  of  Berlin. 


MARCH  20,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


143 


WHEN   GREEK  (r)  MEETS  TUBK(:-) 

IT  is  stated  that  numerous  Englishmen 
have  offered  their  services  to  the  Greek 
Government,  and  that  the  Turkish  Govern- 
ment has  received  similar  offers  from  many 
other  Englishmen.  As  both  these  Govern- 
ments are  practically  bankrupt,  why  waste 
— not  their  money,  for  they  have  none,  but 
— their  credit,  such  as  it  is,  by  travelling 
to  Crete,  or  Athens,  or  Constantinople? 
How  much  better  to  fight  comfortably  in 
London,  three  hundred  on  each  side,  the 
Horatii  and  the  Curiatii  of  to-day.  This 
scheme  would  also  be  more  sensible,  since 
the  £1,200  odd  subscribed  for  Greece 
would  hardly  pay  all  the  expenses  of  a 
war  with  Turkey,  and  the  few  hundred 
gallant  Englishmen  on  either  side  could 
hardly  defy  the  united  forces  of  the  Great 
Powers.  Then  what  stirring  headlines  we 
should  read  every  morning  :  — 

ENCAMPMENT  or  THE  TURKS  AT  PARK 

CRESCENT. 

THE  GRERKS  AT  CHAKINO  CROPS. 
EXPECTED  BATTLE  IN  REOENT  STREET. 

THE  ELGIN  MARBLES. 

RUMOURED  RECONNAISSANCE  BY  THE  TURK*. 

THE  GREEK  GUARD  INCREASED  TO  EIGHT. 

TURKISH  BATHS  BOMBARDED. 

VALOUR  OF  THE  GREEKS. 

THE  BATHS  CLUB  DECLARED  NEUTRAL. 

STATUES  IN  GREEK  COSTUME  DESTROYED  BY 

THE  TURKS. 

UNIVERSAL  REJOICINGS. 
REPRISALS  BY  THE  GREEKS  ON  OTHER  STATUES. 

INCREASED  REJOICINGS. 
OLYMPIA  BESIEGED  BY  THE  TURKS. 
SORTIE  or  THE  GREEK  GARRISON. 
ARRIVAL  OF  REINFORCEMENTS  BY  HAMMER- 
SMITH OMNIBUS. 
A  MOTOR-CAR  IN  ACTION. 
SERIOUS  INJURY  TO  THE  GREEK  COLONEL'S 

UMBRELLA. 
Loss  OF  A  TURKISH  OFFICER'S  FEZ. 

THE  BESIEGERS'  COMMISSARIAT. 
FIIENH  SUPPLIES  OF  RAHAT  LAKOUM. 

PRIVATIONS  OF  THE  GARRISON. 
NOTHING  TO  DRINK  BUT  GREEK  WINES. 


"CONSULE    BILIOTTI." 

[Sir  ALFRED  BILIOTTI,  our  Consul  in  Crete, 
saved  by  his  personal  exertions  at  Candanos  man" 
thousand  Moslem  lives.  The  King  of  the  Hellenes 
blanv  s  the  English  Consul's  overbearing  conduct.] 

IN  the  midst  of  the  strife, 

And  war  to  the  knife, 
O'er  a  question  fierce  and  knotty, 

Let  us  sing  to  the  praise, 

'Mid  the  death-strewn  maze, 
Of  Sir  ALFRED  BILIOTTI. 

No  craven  was  he 

Who  could  put  to  sea, 
Saving  thousands  by  pluck  and  daring. 

Let  King  GEORGE  have  his  say, 

But  we  '11  cheer  the  way 
Of  our  Consul's  overbearing ! 


In  the  Managing  Editor's  Room. 

Master  Printer.  Any  orders  for  the  bill 
to-morrow  ? 

Managing  Editor.  No,  the  same  head- 
ings will  do — "Greece  Defiant,  Powers 

Alert,  Mohammedans  Massacred,  and 

Stay,  set  up  "CRETE  AS  USUAL." 
Everyone  will  understand  that. 


NOTE  BY  OUR  CHAMPION  CARD-PLAYER. — 
A  woman's  hand  is  like  one  at  tcartt.  If 
you  propose  she  won't  accept  unless  she 
holds  the  King  of  Trumps — generally  up 
her  sleeve. 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

ExTHAtTF.il    FROM    TUB     DlAKY    OF    TOBY,    M.P. 

House  of  Commons,  Monday,  March  8. 
— House  crowded  for  a  Monday.  At  four 
o'clock  this  afternoon  time  of  grace  for 
Greece  was  up.  Peace  or  war  depends 
upon  answer  she  shall  give  to  Collective 
Note.  Members  hold  their  breath  as  they 
wait  to  hear  what  news  PRINCE  ARTHUR 
brings. 

Captain  NORTON  discovered  on  his  feet 
making  semaphore  signals  towards  Treasury 
Bench.  This  looks  ominous.  NORTON  has 


which,  as  each  Bobby  passes,  he  sullenly 
drops  price  of  a  pair  of  boots. 

This  robbing  of  BOBBY  to  pay  MATTHEW 
excites  deepest  indignation  in  martial  mind 
of  gallant  Captain.  HOMF.  SFX-RKTARY  la- 
boriously explains  that  it  is  all  a  mistake. 
Boot  is,  in  fact,  on  the  other  leg.  Men 
profit,  rather  than  lose,  by  the  new  system. 

"Am  I  to  gather  from  that  answer,"  said 
the  ex-cornet,  in  sepulchral  voice,  "  that 
the  men  will  practically  be  defrauded  out 
of  a  pair  of  boots  ?  " 

"  Quite  the  contrary,"  said  Sir  MATTHEW. 

This  presumably  means  that  they  will  be 


SIR  MATTHEW  "  COLLECTS  "  IN  CARITON  HOUSE  TEHRACB  ! 


("  Quite  the  contrary 

smelt  powder,  serving  as  cornet  in  the 
Royal  Irish  Lancers.  Silence  falls  on 
crowded  House.  All  eyes  turned  upon  the 
Captain  semaphoring  like  mad.  At  length 
catches  eye  of  MATTHEW  WHITE  RIDLEY. 

Captain's  concern  turns  out  to  have  no- 
thing to  do  with  Crete,  Greek  aspirations, 
or,  save  indirectly,  with  the  Peace  of  Eu- 
rope. Wants  to  know  about  the  London  j 
Bobby's  boots.  Got  it  into  his  head  that 
HOME  SECRETARY  has  approved  dark  design 
whereby,  as  he  put  it,  "  each  man  of  the  j 
force  is  to  advance  the  value  of  a  pair  of 
boots  to  the  authorities."  Quickened  im- 
agination sees  Carlton  House  Terrace 
flooded  with  police  off  duty.  On  steps  of 
No.  10  stands  massive  figure  of  HOME 
SECRETARY,  holding  collection  plate,  into 


'  of  the  actual  fact !) 

defrauded  info  a  pair.  The  Captain  not  to 
be  put  off  with  sophism  of  that  Kind. 

':Mr.  SPEAKER,  Sir,"  he  said,  his  voice 
now  appropriately  dropping  into  his  boots, 
"I  would  like  to  ask  whether,  if  the  boots  are 
made  to  last  longer  than  they  have  hitherto 
lasted  the  men  are  not  thereby  defrauded 
out  of  a  certain  amount  of  shoe-leather?" 

(Observe  how  deftly  the  Captain  twice 
inserts  the  last  into  the  policeman's  stub- 
born boots.) 

Conundrum  too  much  for  HOME  SECRE- 
TARY. Attempted  no  answer.  House 
turned  to  other  subjects  with  uneasy 
conviction  that  there  is  more  in  these 
policemen's  boots  than  meets  the  eye. 

Business  done. — Captain  NORTON  smells 
a  rat.  He  sees  it  moving  in  the  air. 


144 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  20,  1897. 


Tuesday.  • —  Conference  in  Committee 
Room  No.  14  on  Financial  Relations  be- 
tween Great  Britain  and  Ireland  met  to- 
day to  elect  Chairman.  Conference  most 
remarkable  sign  of  times.  Includes  Irish- 
men of  all  parties  and  sections.  Dillonite, 
Redmondite,  Healyite,  Hittite  (the  most 
universal  denomination),  Unionist,  Catho- 
lic, Orangem<m,  each  all  one  in  their  desire 
to  get  something  out  of  the  Imperial  Ex- 
chequer. 

Miss  Lord  MORRIS  from  the  melange. 
Thinking  about  him  just  now  when  looking 
back  through  the  glowing  pages  of  The  Eve 
of  St.  Agnes.  You  remember  how,  when 


As  soon  as  these  over,  J.  W.  enters,  with 
air  of  man  who  has  just  dined,  and  posi- 
tively proposes  to  go  on  with  Committee ! 
Rarely  heard  such  a  roar  as  rises  from 
throats  of  famished  Radicals.  If  they  had 
known  what  was  in  store,  might,  between 
three  and  eight,  have  taken  a  little  bread 
with  their  water.  But  expected  the  usual 
interval,  either  with  the  SPEAKER  or 
the  Chairman  out,  of  the  Chair.  LOWTHER, 
who  seemed  to  hungry,  feverish  eyes  to 
grow  plumper  every  minute,  turned  deaf 
ear  to  entreaty.  He  wasn't  hungry,  and 
the  first  duty  of  a  patriot  is  owed  to 
his  country.  So  called  on  LAMHERT  to 


"WHAT,  NEVER?    WELL,  HARDLY  EVER!" 
(The  only  occasion  when  he  did!) 

George  C-z-n.  "  Now  look  he — ar,  you  fellows,  don't  you  bring  it  too  ne— ar  me !    If  you  don't  do 
just  as  I  tell  you  there  '11  be  a  European  War  !  " 

(In  answer  to  Mr.  Sw-ft  M-cN-11,  Mr.  C-z-n  said  he  never  read  the  Daily  News.} 


Porphyro  secretly  makes  his  way  on  St. 
Agnes's  Eve  into  the  house  of  his  foeman, 
the  father  of  his  love,  an  old  beldame, 
shuffling  along  with  ivory-headed  wand, 
warns  him  to  flee.  To  that  end  she  recites 
the  names  of  his  enemies  lodged  in  the 
Castle.  "Then,"  she  says, 

"  There  's  that  old  Lord  MAURICE,  not  a  whit 
More  tame  for  hia  grey  hairs." 

The  name  is  spelt  differently  ;  but  ortho- 
graphy of  proper  names  is  arbitrary,  and 
poets  aren't  particular.  The  passage  is 
notable  for  a  remarkable  forecast,  proving 
once  more  how  the  poet  is  a  seer.  We 
hardly  think  of  our  Lord  MORRIS  as  old. 
But  there  are  the  grey  hairs,  and,  truly,  no 
note  of  added  tameness.  He  would  be 
great  acquisition  to  Conference :  though 
SARK  says  he  would  probably  f»el  more  at 
home  if  the  meetings  were  held  in  Com- 
mittee Room  No.  15. 

Business  done. — Education  Bill  in  Com- 
mittee. 

Thursday. — "I  wonder  what  cold  Chair- 
man of  Committees  would  be  like,"  said 
SARK  just  now,  looking  hungrily  at  plump 
figure  of  J.  W.  LOWTHER.  "With  a  choice 
of  pickles,  it  might  do." 

It  was  ten  minutes  past  nine.  J.  AV. 
just  taken  Chair ;  debate  on  Education 
Bill  resumed.  Since  three  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  some  of  us  been  at  it,  first  on 
London  Water  Bills,  then  with  questions. 


move  his  amendment,  which  stood  next  on 
the  paper. 

LAMBERT  tried  to  rise  in  obedience  to 
order.  Effort  too  much  for  him.  With 
assistance  of  two  Members,  almost  as  ema- 
ciated as  himself,  he  was  propped  on  his 
feet.  A  pitiful  sight  —  cheeks  sunken, 
eyes  glazed,  beard  and  moustache  literally 
starved  off  his  face,  leaving  it  bare.  In 
voice  as  hollow  as  his  inside,  he 
pleaded  for  opportunity  to  get  a  crust  of 
bread.  Chairman  obdurate.  Members  in 
their  agony  looked  to  Front  Opposition 
Bench ;  discovered  SQUIRE  OF  MALWOOD 
not  there.  Where  was  he  ?  Possibly 
eating  a  slice  of  mutton,  whilst  they  were 
starving.  The  very  thought  of  the  succu- 
lent morsel  filled  them  with  new  frenzy. 
Turning  aside  for  moment  from  the  Chair- 
man, they  roared,  "HARCOURT!  HAR- 
cotiRT ! "  In  few  moments  SQTJIRE  came  in, 
trying  to  look  as  if  he  hadn't  seen  roast 
mutton  since  yesterday.  Betrayed  himself 
by  vigour  with  which  he  fronted  Chairman, 
insisting  on  adjournment.  No  man  could 
have  spoken  with  equal  force  upon  abso- 
lutely empty  stomach. 

Nothing  would  move  Chairman.  Evi- 
dently a  deep  plot  concocted  in  AA7hip's 
Room.  Closure  having  proved  only  partly 
effective  in  subduing  spirit  of  Opposi- 
tion to  Education  Bill,  try  starvation 
now.  Sole  concession  made  from  Chair 
was  that  Committee  might  divide  on  mo- 


tion to  report  progress.  Nothing  came  of 
this  but  loss  of  another  quarter  or  an  hour, 
and  the  dragging  round  division  lobby  of 
tottering  forms.  Ministerialists,  com- 
fortably dining,  rushed  in  to  vote  against 
adjournment.  Having  defeated  motion  by 
two  to  one,  went  back  to  finish  their  din- 
ner, leaving  a  few  skeletons  to  rattle  their 
bones  in  defiance  of  Clause  I.  of  Education 
Bill.  Business  done.  —  Opposition  nearly 
starved  to  death. 

Friday. — SARK  hears  curious  rumour 
about  intention  of  the  gallant  Hundred, 
who  the  other  day  telegraphed  (at  some- 
body else's  expense)  to  King  of  GREECE, 
bidding  him  fight  on,  and  let  them  hear  oc- 
casionally how  he  fared.  Have  agreed  that 
their  position  would  be  more  imposing, 
their  encouragement  to  Greece  more  effect- 
ive, if  they  wore  some  outward  and  visible 
sign  of  their  brotherhood. 

FRANK  LOCKWOOD  proposes  simple  con- 
trivance. Tho  national  costume  of  Cretans 
suggests  that,  dressing  in  haste,  they  have 
left  outside  their  trousers  a  garment  which , 
in  civilised  countries,  is  more  usually 
tucked  within.  AVhy  should  not  the  signa- 
tories of  that  noble  telegram  phow  their 
sympathy  for  the  Cretans  by  adopting  a 
modification  of  their  national  dress?  The 
Garibaldians,  whom  they  most  resemble, 
made  the  red  shirt  historic.  The  appear- 
ance in  the  lobby  or  on  floor  of  the  House 
of  honourable  Members  wearing  outside 
their  trousers  the  white  shirt  of  a  blame- 
less life,  would  certainly  at  first  attract 
attention.  But  bold  spirits  dare  anything. 

SARK  says  he  wouldn't  be  at  all  aston- 
ished any  night  to  see  JOHN  ANTHONY  and 
SAGE  OF  QTTEEN  ANNE'S  GATE  enter  the 
House  arm  in  arm  thus  picturesquely 
arrayed. 

Business  done. — Navy  Estimates. 


WHERE  SHALL  WE  GO  "FOR  A  CHANGE?" 

AVHERE  shall  we  go  "  for  a  change  ? " 
The  answer  to  this  question,  says  one  ot 
Mr.  Punch's  experienced  Directors  of  Pub- 
lic Attention,  is  "Go  and  see  UGO  BIONDI 
at  the  Tivoli."  One  man  in  his  time  plays 
several  parts,  but  only  one  man,  in  his 
time,  which  is  from  about  9.30  to  10  or 
thereabouts  every  evening,  can  represent 
some  fourteen  different  characters  (in- 
cluding conducting  the  orchestra  as  repre- 
senting various  popular  composers),  chang- 
ing costume,  face,  and  manner,  over  and 
over  again,  and  that  one  man  is  Uoo  BIONDI. 
His  dexterity  is  really  marvellous.  He  is 
several  single  gentlemen  rolled  into  one, 
and  he  is  also  a  couple  of  totally  dis- 
similar ladies.  Of  UGO  BIONDI  it  is  impos- 
sible to  say,  as  DICKENS  said  of  the  enter- 
tainer, that  on  every  occasion,  after  he 
had  disappeared  under  the  table  to  assume 
a  new  disguise,  "he  reappeared  more  like 
himself  than  ever."  It  would  be  difficult 
to  recognise  the  original  UGO  BIONDI,  but 
for  the  voice.  It  is  a  triumph  of  dexterous 
transformation.  In  this  line  he  is  facile 
prince-pa,  or  VICTOR  UGO!  Another  real 
attraction  here  is  Mr.  JAMES  FAWN,  "  the 
timid  Fawn,"  singing  "7s  it  Love?"  Irre- 
sistibly funny. 

At  the   Goat  and  Compasses. 

First  Horny-handed  Son  of  Toil  (tn 
Second  Ditto).  So  your  boss  is  what  they 
calls  a  mean  man  ? 

Second  Ditto.  "Mean"  ain't  the  word 
for  'im !  'E  's  the  sort  o'  cove  as  'ud  steal 
an  'a'-penny  paper  out  of  a  Free  Library, 
and  think  he  wos  benefitin'  Hedication. 


MAHCII  27,   1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


145 


VENICE    IN    LONDON. 

MR.  SUMTHIXOTON  JoNES,  OF  THE  STOCK  EXCHANGE,  A  LOVER  OF 
ALL  THINGS  VENETIAN,  HAS  HAD  HIS  HoTOR-CAR  BUILT  ON  THE 
GRACEFUL  LINES  OF  THE  GONDOLA.  ANY  DAY,  NOW,  HK  MAY 
BE  SEES  KKfLIMNi;  IN  IT,  HALF  BURIED  IN  CUSHIONS,  WHILST 
HIS  ENGINEER,  IN  VENETIAN  COSTUME,  GUIDES  HIM  TO  HIS  CITY 
OFFICE. 


ROUNDABOUT  READINGS. 

(Being  some  selections  from  the  Correspondence  bctiveen  Mr.  Robert 
Kvundabout,  his  Nephew  at  Cambridge,  and  others.) 

No.  X.— OF  GOING  TO  THEATRES— OF  MR.  TOOLE,  Miss  KATF 
VAUOHAN,  AND  Miss  NELLY  FARREN— OF  SOLEMN  YOUNG  MEN 
-  OF  MR.  HERBERT  CAMPBELL  AND  MR.  DAN  LENO— OF  LAUGH- 
ING AND  BRING  AMUSED — OF  VISITS  TO  TOWN. 

My  DEAR  JACK, — I  am  glad  you  enjoyed  your  little  visit  to 
London.  For  me,  too,  the  occasion  had  its  pleasures.  I  have 
come  to  an  ago  when  a  man  does  not  go  to  a  theatre  too  willingly 
by  himself.  He  dines  in  sedate  comfort  at  his  club,  cherishing  a 
vague  idea  that  afterwards  he  may  be  tempted  to  rush  out  to  a 
burlesque,  a  farce,  a  Shakspearian  revival,  or  whatever  at  the 
moment  may  be  tickling  the  groundlings,  but  the  minutes  and  the 
hours  slip  away  and  ten  o'clock  finds  him  still  in  his  comfortable 
armchair,  with  his  feet  poised  on  one  of  those  invaluable  red- 
bai/.e  rests  which  temper  the  miseries  of  a  gouty  man's  pilgrimage 
through  this  world  of  hard  pavements  and  tight  boots.  It  was  not 
always  thus.  Formerly — how  distant  it  all  seems — I  should  have 
t  In  Might  it  a  mere  wanton  waste  of  time  to  spend  a  night  in  Lon- 
don away  from  the  play.  There  was  Mr.  TOOLS,  at  whose  shrine 
—he  was  then  a  bright  particular  star  at  the  Gaiety  Theatre — 
we  split  our  sides  ;  we  watched  the  grim  beginnings  of  Mr. 
IRVING  in  The  Jii'lh,  waxed  ecstatic  over  the  beautiful  movements 
of  Miss  KATK  VAUGHAN  as  she  danced  in  foam  of  white  lace 
and  flashing  feet,  or  revelled  in  the  sprightly  and  delightful  im- 
pertinences of  the  ever-adorable  Miss  NELLY  FARRBN.  Those 
were  groat  days.  You  will  say  the  change  is  in  me.  It  may  be, 
but  something  is  changed  too  in  the  days  (or  nights)  and  in  the 
entertainments  they  provide.  A  brightness  and  a  cheerfulness, 
that  I  remember,  have  faded  away,  and  even  the  young  men,  I 
notiee,  take  their  pleasure*  niitiilt  trisffinrnt  and  with  a  preter- 
naturally  starched  solemnity.  I  have  watched  them  sitting  in 
their  rows  while  their  favourites  tried  to  make  them  merry. 
They  were  not  men,  my  dear  JACK  ;  they  were  blocks,  white- 
fronted,  single-studded,  butterfly-tied,  expressionless  blocks,  all 
moulded  on  one  impassive,  stupid,  heavy  model,  bereft  of  all 
capacity  for  honest  laughter  and  enjoyment,  and  planted  in  their 


stalls,  as  it  seemed,  against  their  wills  by  some  malignant  and 
superior  power  which  permitted  them  to  smoke  a  cigarette  and 
imbibo  a  whiskey  and  soda  in  the  interval  between  the  acts. 
Thank  Heaven,  you  are  not  like  one  of  these  clods.  You  can 
laugh,  and  don  t  mind  showing  the  world  you  are  enioying  vour- 
selfT  So  I  was  not  at  all  sorry  to  be  taken  by  you  to  Drury  Lane, 
and  to  see  the  amusing  antics  and  hear  the  humour  of  Messrs. 
HKUHKHT  CAMPBKI.L  and  DAN  LENO,  born  comedians  both  of  them, 
with  a  natural  gift  of  observation  and  mimicry  that  it  would  not 
be  easy  to  surpass.  You  seemed  surprised  at  the  excess  of  my 
laughter.  "  Why,  Uncle  BOB,  I  believe  you  laughed  more  than 
me,  was  the  observation  you  made.  Well,  why  shouldn't  I  ?  The 
fact  is,  I  was  fresher  than  you  (though  you  were  but  a  schoolboy 
last  summer),  I  had  seen  less  of  and  lived  less  of  late,  I  daresay, 
in  this  particular  milieu,  and  the  effect  on  me  may  have  bei-n 
greater.  You,  at  any  rate,  laughed  quite  sufficiently  to  relieve 
me  of  any  haunting  suspicion  that  by  exploding  and  applauding 
as  I  did  I  cast  any  disgrace  upon  you.  You  pointed  out  to  me 
the  hero  THUMBULL  who,  as  you  told  me,  is  the  grandest  heavy- 
weight oarsman  of  his  day.  Well,  TRUMBITLL  laughed  very 
heartily,  there  was  no  solemn  humbug  about  him,  and  what  may 
be  allowed  to  a  TRUMBULL  is  surely  not  an  offence  in  your  uncle. 
In  any  case,  if  you  will  so  far  honour  me,  I  am  ready  at  no  distant 
date  to  let  you  take  me  once  more  to  a  play.  But  this  shall 
be  during  the  vacation. 

There  was  at  Cambridge  in  my  time  a  set  of  men  who  tried 
to  live  more  in  London  than  they  did  at  their  University.  How 
they  managed  it  I  can't  say,  but  they  were  perpetually  in  town, 
and  made  their  lives  one  round  of  burlesques,  dinners,  and 
supper-parties,  varied  by  excursions  to  race-meetings.  I  am  sure 
their  private  means  were  not  ample,  yet  they  always  seemed  to 
roll  in  money,  and  glitter  with  jewellery.  Their  end  was  not 
peace — but  I  must  postpone  what  I  want  to  say  about  them  for 
another  letter.  Midnight  is  booming  from  Big  Ben,  and  even 
uncles  must  find  time  for  sleep.  Farewell. 

Your  affectionate  uncle,  BOB. 


QUESTIONS  THAT  SHOULD  NEVER  BE  ASKED. 

Of  an  Actor.  —  "  Don't  you  get  dreadfully  tired  of  saying  the 
same  words  night  after  night  t 

Of  an  Author.  —  "  Do  you  mind  telling  me  what  pen  you  use?" 

Of  an  Anarchist.  —  "  Don't  you  find  the  noise  of  the  bombs 
quite  deafening  ?  " 

Of  an  Attache.  —  "Are  you  quite  hand-in-glove  with  Lord 
SALISBURY  ?  " 

Of  a  Burglar.  —  "  How  on  earth  did  you  get  in  ?  " 

Of  a  Bird-fancier.—"  Do  you  find  you  do  a  brisker  trade  in 
canaries,  orin  peacocks?  " 

Of  a  Collaborator.—  '  Does  the  other  person  think  of  it  all, 
and  you  write  it  down  ?  " 

Of  a  Doctor.  —  "How  do  you  know  the  right  prescriptions  to 
give  people  ?  It  seems  so  wonderful  that  the  chemist  is  a  mere 
tool  in  your  hands  !  " 

Of  an  Elector.—"  Nowadays,  don't  you  find  you  have  to  be 
careful  whom  you  do  elect  ?  " 

Of  a  Fanatic.  —  "  Do  you  take  much  interest  in  the  subject  ; 

Of  a  Farmer.—"  Which  do  you  really  prefer,  sowing,  or 
reaping  ?  " 

Of  o  Fireman.—"  Don't  you  ever  splash  the  wrong  house,  by 
mistake  ?  "  ^__  _ 

ANCIENT  AND  MODERN  CLASSICAL  COMBINATION.—  See  Reoent 
Kpi^tle  by  MIKAUBEROS  GLADSTONIOS,  last  of  the  celebrated 
"Scriptor'es  Ci-eri,"  addressed  to  the  Duke  of  W-STM-NST-R  on 
"  The  Eastern  Crisis."  "  Bless  and  save  the  man  !  "  exclaimed  my 
aunt,  in  a  low  voice.  "  He  'd  write  letters  by  the  ream,  if  it  was 
a  capital  offence  !  "—David  Copperfield,  Chap.  LIT. 


"  THE   RUBBER  FORESTS  OF  UPPER  BURMA." 
A  CORRESPONDENT,  signing  himself  "  DUMMY,"  writes  to  say 
that,  having  seen  the  above  heading  to  a  paragraph  in  the  limes 
he  read  no  further,  but  at  once  sent  to  Mr.  Punch  s  Universal 
Inquiry  Office  to  know  if  the  climate  of  Burma  is  so  hot  as  to 
make  even  a  sedentary  game  of  whist  possible  only  out-e 
Secondlv,  to  know  if  Koyle's  Guide  would  be  sufficient  to  take  a 
stranger  through  the  Rubber  Forests?     And  thirdly   whether  on 
coming  out  of  the  Rubber  Forests  the  traveller  would  emerge  on 
Canl-Table-land?    Also  he  inquires  if  there  is  much  hun 
tl,e*>  forests,  and  if  so,  are  packs  kept  in  the  neighbourhood? 
Any  information  on  the  above  subject  will  be  gladly  received  by 
••  DVMMY,  Trumpington  Street,  Cam." 


VOL.    CXI  I. 


146 


PUNCH,    OK    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  27,  1897. 


Policeman  X.  (to  Sir  H-nry  H-wk-ns).  "  HOPE  YOU  'RE  NOT  OOING  TO  BET,  MY  LORD.     I  NEEDN'T  REMIND  rov  THAT,  BY  A  RECENT 

DECISION,    THIS   IS  A    '  PLACE,'  ACCORDING  TO   LAW  !  " 

["  After  very  careful  consideration  I  have  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  any  area  of  enclosed  ground  ...  to  which  persons  .  .  .  resort  ...  for  the 
purpose  of  carrying  on  a  ready-money  hotting  business,  may  be  a  place  within  the  meaning  of  the  Statute,"  &c.,  &c.— Decixion  of  Mr.  Justice  Hawkins 
i«  "  Hawke  v.  Dunn"  in  u-hich  the  other  Judges  concurred,  ride  Times  Seporl,  March  15.] 


MAHCH  27,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


147 


FICKLE    FASHION. 

"  W F.I.I.,  Kll  IV,  THIS  DKLIOHTFUL  SEASON  IS  NEARLY  OVER!    Do  YOU  SUPPOSE  WE  SHALL  HAVE  TO  TAKE  TO  THOSE  STUPID 

BICYCLES  AGAIN  ! " 


DARBY  JONES  IIEDIV1VUS. 

HONOURED  SIB, — A  veteran  like  myself, 
wearied  of  watching  the  spin  of  the  ball 
at  Monte  Carlo,  of  the  British  refugees 
who,  wrapped  in  fur  coats,  pretend  that 
they  are  enjoying  the  delights  of  sempi- 
ternal summer,  and  of  sitting  up  all  night 
playing  baccarat  with  Eminences  and 
smaller  Hilltops  of  all  lands — then  it  is 
that  the  Aged  One  begins  to  think  once 
again  of  the  green  swards  of  that  island 
Mother,  which  it  was  once  the  boast  of 
her  sons  to  declare  to  be  absolutely  free 
in  matters  of  Sport.  Alas!  they  can  do  so 
no  longer,  thanks  to  the  agreement  of  a 
HAWKE  and  a  HAWKINS  over  the  meaning 
of  an  Act  of  Parliament,  upon  the  meaning 
of  which  it  has  taken  forty-two  years  to 
throw  the  X-rays  of  a  judicial  decision. 

Many  months  ago,  I  advocated,  under 
your  world-spread  banner,  that  all  book- 
makers should  bo  licensed  by  the  Stewards 
of  the  Jockey  Club,  and,  such  is  the  See- 
saw of  Events,  I  ventured  to  suggest  that 
the  Lord  Chief  Justice,  Sir  FRANK  LOCK- 
WOOD,  and  Sir  HENRY  HAWKINS  would, 
from  their  wide  experience,  be  the  most 
capable  personages  to  draw  up  a  scheme 
legalising  the  Layer  of  Odds  (not  for- 
getting, be  it  understood,  his  Gem  eel 
Penciller).  That  my  humble  suggestion 
will  now  bo  carried  out  seems  improbable. 

But  with  due  disrespect  to  Sir  WILFRID 
LAV  SON,  Mr.  HAWKE,  and  other  exponents 
of  the  great  Principle  of  "  Do-others-be- 
cv.'iM'-you-doii't-waiit-to-be-done-yourself," 
I  distinctly  assert,  with  all  the  confidence 
of  those  ancient  Roman  bookmakers,  the 
Sybils,  that  Betting  can  no  more  be  abo- 
lished in  this  country  than  can  Scotch 


whiskey  drinking  be  removed  from  the 
Bars  of  the  House  of  Commons — though 
both  institutions  be  opposed  to  the  ideas 
of  those  who  want  to  make  us  enjoy 
ourselves  while  playing  Spillikins  and  quaf- 
fing Toast  and  Water.  With  these  reflec- 
tions I  turn  to  business.  Let  me  saddle 
Pegasus  for  the  Grand  National  (you  will 
observe,  that  with  my  customary  adroit- 
ness I  make  a  classic  allusion  in  connection 
with  a  classic  event),  and  trust  that  the 
flutter  of  his  wings  may  bring  golden 
results  to  you  and  my  clients. 

The  Savage  Man  from  Borneo 

No  lunger  will  I  sing  ; 
Kit-Hurry  is  prepared  to  go, 

The  'Crat  H  quite  the  thing. 
Be  careful  how  you  cut  your  Cunt, 

But  bear  thi»  well  in  mind — 
St.  Gfort/e't  Snnner  well  may  float 

The  Cob-nut  close  behind. 

Such,  Sir,  is  the  vaticination  of  the  seer. 
May  you  be  at  Aintree  to  see  the  result  of 
his  forecast  over  a  difficult  line  of  constitu- 
tional country. 

Your  devoted  henchman, 

DARBY  JONES. 


MILITARY  INTELLIGENCE.  —  There  is  no 
ground  for  asserting  that  Major  BOR  was 
recalled  from  Crete  by  the  Committee  ot 
the  Senior  United  Service  Club.  In  fact, 
this  gallant  officer,  who  is  a  big  Bor  of 
first-rate  calibre ;  has  evidently  been  mis- 
taken for  the  sempiternal  Turkish  Pasha 
BLVNDKRBORE.  Indeed,  we  fancy,  in  event 
of  a  Bor  hunt,  that  the  Cretan  insurgents 
would  have  found  themselves  confronted 
by  a  big  sticker  in  the  person  of  the 
Major. 


THE  PI-B^EUS. 

SIM;  a  song  of  Crisis, 

Everything  awry  ; 
All  the  Powers  of  Europe 

Fingering  the  pie. 
When  the  game  was  opened, 

The  Greeks  began  to  sing, 
"  Isn't  Crete  a  dainty  dish 

To  set  before  the  King  ?  " 


A  MODEST  REQUEST. 
(Sample  of  many  of  a  similar  character.) 

DEAK  MR.  PUNCH,  —  Now  that  we  are 
approaching  the  glorious  event  of  June 
next,  when,  &c.,  &c.  (editorially  deleted),  I 
think  the  time  has  arrived  when  an  act  of, 
Ac.,  &c,  (editorially  deleted),  should  bo 
shown  to  a  most  deserving,  &c.,  &c.  (edito- 
rially deleted). 

As  you  know,  as  at  present  arranged,  the 
groat  historical  procession  which,  &c.,  &e. 
(iditoria/ly  deleted),  is  to  travel  riV)  the 
Strand,  Fleet  Street,  &c.,  &c.  (editorially 
deleted). 

What  I  would  ask,  and  I  ask  it  as  one 
who  has  the  greatest  admiration  for.  &c.. 
&c.  (editorially  deleted),  that  the  procession 
should  pass  by  Turnbam  Green. 

I  remain,  dear  Mr.  Punch, 
Yours,  not  entirely  unknown  to  fame, 

Tiirtihum  Orren. 

(Heal  name  and  remainder  of  address  editorially 
deleted.) 


NEW  ATHENIAN  PROVERB. — When  Greek 
I  meets  Greek  then  comes  the  talk  of  war. 


148 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  27,  1897. 


barellen.   "I'M  COIN'  TO  T'  FOOTBALL  MATCH,  E-ER!" 
Maryalis.  "  You 'VE  GOT  NOA  BRASS.      THEY  WON'T  LET  YO'  IN— 
A'AH  • '         S.   "YEA,  THEY  WILL."        M.  "NAY,  THEY  WON'T." 
8.    'THEY  WILL,  I  TELL  YO' !     HAVEN'T  YO'  BEAD  T'  PLACARDS- 
LADIES  ADMITTED  FREB  '  !  " 


THE    WOTHERSPOONS. 

A  STOBY  IN  SCENES. 

V. 

SCENE—  The  Drawing-room.      TIME—  The  next  evening,  about  7.45. 
SPENCER  and  HENRIETTA,  both  suffering  from  suppressed  nervousness, 

are  awaiting  the  arrival  of  their  respective  fiances. 
Henrietta.  The  visitors'  bell  I     SPENCEK,  it 's  probably  FRITZ 
You  may  think  him  a  little  cold  and  phlegmatic,  at  first— but  it 's 
only  manner.     You  mustn't  let  it  set  you  against  him  I 

bpen.  (on  the  hearthrug).  If  it  should  be  MERCY,  you— you'll 
do  what  you  can  to  make  her  feel  at  home,  ETTA  ?    Kemember, 
1  be  shy  and  strange  coming  here  for  the  first  time,  poor 
child,  and 

{.A  knock  is  heard  at  the  drawing-room  door;  both  start 
slightly.  MARIA  enters,  and  announces  Miss  MARIGOLD, 
who  appears  with  her  hair  elaborately  fluffed  and  waved, 
and  wears  a  black  skirt  with  a  silk  blouse  of  resplendent 
hues. 

Mercy  (with  a  sprightly  ease,  possibly  due  to  extreme  self-con- 
scwusness).  Well  bpENCBB  dear,  I  hope  you  didn't  think  i  was 
lost !  Am  I  offuily  late  ?  I  was  offuily  afraid  I  'd  come  to  the 
wrong  house  at  first.  (To  herself.)  Not  much  style  here.'  Shabby 
turniture,  and  a  parlour-maid  who  knocks  at  the  door.  I  call  it 
poky  I 

Spen.  You  're  in  capital  time,  my— my  darling,  capital  time 
i^r — let  me  introduce  you  to  my  sister  HENRIETTA. 

Henr.  (with  an  imperceptible  gasp).  I  have  heard  so  much 
about  you  from  SPENCER,  my  dear,  l— I  hope  we  shall  be  excel- 
lent friends.  (To  herself.)  Pretty  enough;  but  oh,  how  can 
poor  dear  SPEN ? 

Mercy.  1  hope  so,  too— offuily.  (To  herself.)  A  regular 
middle-aged  frump.  I  needn't  be  afraid  of  her!  (To  SPENCER  ) 
How  do  you  like  me  in  this  ?  It  is  such  a  blessing  not  to  have 
to  wear  that  horrid  nurse's  dress  any  more — so  offuily  disfiguring  ! 

Spen.  Charming,  charming.  (To  himself.)  Somehow  she 
looked  more  herself  in  that  grey  stuff,  though,  and  what  a  trick 
she  has  got  into  of  saying  "  awfully."  Nervousness,  no  doubt. 

Henr.  (to  herself).  I  must  have  one  word  with  her  alone,  be- 
fore FRITZ (To  SPENCER.)  SPEN,  dear,  will  you  run  down 


and  see  if  MARIA  has  put  out  the  right  claret  ?  I  am  sure  Miss — 
sure  MERCY  will  excuse  you. 

Spen.  Why,  really,  I  fancy  that  MARIA —  Well,  perhaps  1 
had  better  just —  •  (To  himself,  as  he  departs.)  L  knew  she'd 

take  to  MEKCY  the  moment  they- Best  to  leave  'em  together 

a  little. 

Henr.  (when  she  and  MERCY  are  alone).  My  dear,  there  are 
one  or  two  little  hints  1 — 1  rather  wished  to  give  you,  if  you 
won't  take  them  amiss. 

Mercy  (on  the  defensive).  I'm  offul •    I'm  much  obliged  to 

you,  I  'm  sure,  Miss  WOTHERSPOON. 

Henr.  My  dear,  not  Miss  WOTHERSPOON,  please.  If — as — we 
are  to  be  sisters-in-law,  you  must  call  me  "  HENRIETTA." 

Mercy.  I  'm  only  just  getting  used  to  calling  SPENCER  by  his 
name.  And  then — it 's  such  a  mouthful,  HEN-E-RI-ETTA  I 

Henr.  (wincing).  Perhaps  it  is — if  you  pronounce  it  like  that. 
Suppose  you  call  me  "  ETTA  *'  P 

Alercy.  But  wouldn't  that  be  rather  familiar,  when  you  're  so 
much  older  than  me  'i 

Henr.  (with  intention).  SPENCER  is  older  still. 

Mercy.  Goodness  I  is  he  ?  Bub  then  gentlemen  never  do  show 
their  age  like \Vhat  am  I  saying? 

Henr.  Nothing,   I  am  sure,    intended    to But    what    I 

wanted  to  say  to  you  is  this  :  we  are  expecting  a — another  friend 
this  evening,  and — (desperately) — so  much,  you  don't  know  how 
much — depends  upon  your  making  a  favourable  impression. 

Mercy  (drawing  lierself  up).  If  you're  afraid  of  my  not  be- 
having myself  at  table,  perhaps  you  '11  allow  me  to  remark  that 
I  'm  quite  as  able  to  conduct  myself  as  a  lady  as  some  that  think 
themselves  my  superiors ! 

Henr.  Indeed,    I    quite —        Pray     don't    imagine It's 

merely —  You  made  some  allusion  just  now  to  the  fact  that, 
when  you  first  met  my  brother,  you  were 

Mercy.  A  nurse?  Well,  what  of  it?  I'm  not  ashamed  of  it, 
no  more  is  SPENCER — so  why  should  you,  be  ? 

Henr.  But  I'm  not,  I  assure  you.  All  I  mean  is  that — that 
there 's  no  necessity  to  mention  it — before  strangers. 

Mercy  (to  herself).  So  likely  I  should!  (Aloud.)  Well,  I've 
no  objection  to  anyone  knowing  it,  myself,  but  of  course,  if 
you  're  atraid  of  this  lady  friend  of  yours  feeling  insulted  by — 

Henr.  Oh,  no,  no  I  And  the — the  friend  isn't  a  lady  at  all. 
(With  growing  embarrassment.)  He  'a  a  foreigner,  of  a  very  old 
and  distinguished  family,  and  abroad,  they — they  have  prejudices 
about  some  things  which,  though  we  don't  share  them,  we — we — 
it  is  simply  polite  to  respect — don't  you  see  ? 

Mercy.   Well,  I'm   not  sure    that    1    do    exactly — unless — 
You  're  not  hoping  he  means  to  propose  to  you,  are  you  ? 

Henr.  (with  dignity).  He  has  already  proposed  to  me,  and  I 
nave  accepted  him. 

Mercy.  Why,  my  dear  ETTA,  this  is  good  news  I  I  am  glad. 
You  really  must  let  me —  (She  kisses  HENRIETTA,  who  submits 
with  as  good  a  grace  as  possible.)  And  when  is  it  to  be  ? 

Henr.  Very  soon.  That  is,  unless —  You  do  quite  under- 
stand how — how  naturally  anxious  I  am  that  nothing — 

Mercy.  Why,  ratlter !  And  don't  you  be  afraid  of  me,  ETTA  1 
[f  this  marriage  of  yours  goes  off,  it  won't  be  any  fault  of  mine. 
You  shall  see  how  beautifully  I  can  behave  1  (To  herself.)  I 
should  be  a  little  owl  if  I  stopped  this  snuffy  old  foreigner 

j-orn Why,  now  I  shall  have  the  house — such  as  it  is — to 

myself  I 

Henr.  I  was  sure  I  could  trust  you,  my  dear  MERCY.  (To 
lerself.)  After  all,  FRITZ  is  a  foreigner.  He  mayn't  notice 
,hat  she  isn't  quite — 

Spen.  (returning).  Oh,  ETTA,  my  love,  MARIA  would  like  to 
speak  to  you.  Some  message  or  other  that's  just — 

Henr.  (to  herself).  From  FRITZ!  Can  he  be  ill?  (Aloud.) 
HERCY,  my  dear,  if  you  will  excuse  me,  I  think  I  ought — 

[(SVie  goes. 

Mercy.  Well,  SPENCER,  you  might  have  told  me  ETTA  was  going 
o  be  married !  Such  a  good  thing  for  all  parties  I 

Spen.  I  only  knew   of  it  myself  yesterday.     I  hope    it 's    all 
right.     But  I  haven't   even  seen  him   yet.     He  ought  to  have 
>een  here  by  now.     He  's  an  Austrian  baron,  or  something  of  that 
ort,  she  met  at  Scarborough. 

Mercy.  Gracious !  who  'd  have  thought,  to  look  at  her,  she 
was  such  a  giddy  little  kitten  ?  And  what 's  the  baron's  name  ? 

Spen.  (slightly  annoyed  at  this  flippant  reference  to  his  sister). 
VON  GTTBLER.  FRITZ  VON  GUBLER.  I'm  not  sure  that  he  is 
ctually  a  baron,  but  ETTA  tells  me  he  's  a  great  friend  of  Lord 
^OLESHAFTS',  so  I  suppose —  •  Ah,  there  he  is  at  last,  I  hear 
he  knocker.  Why,  you  're  not  going  to  run  away,  my  darling  ! 

Mercy  (as  she  escapes).  My  hair  feels  coming  down — so  tire- 
some of  it.  I  daresay  ETTA  can  lend  me — 

Spen.  (alone,  to  himself).  Curious  that  at  the  merest  mention 
,f  a  title. I  'm  afraid  she  hasn't  seen  very  much  society. 


M AI«;II  27,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


149 


Hear,  (outside).  No.  no,  ray  dear,  upstairs,  not  down.  ...  A 
box  of  them  on  my  toilet^table.  ...  Be  quick.  (Entering.)  FKITZ 
has  come.  I  quite  thought  that  message—  But  it  was  only 
from  the  fishmonger.  Why  MERCY  couldn't  leave  her  hair  as  it 
is,  instead  of  --  (MARIA  announces  Mr.  VON  GUBLER.)  Ah,  my 
dear  FRITZ,  it  seems  Huch  ages  since  Scarborough.  So  nice  to 
welcome  you  to  our  own  little  house  I  My  brother  SPENCKK. 

l-'ritz.  Mine  HENRIETTA!  I  am  lade.  I  com  by  the  Onder- 
grount.  (Z'o  SPENCER.)  Glat  to  meed  you.  You  hear  the  goot 
of  our  engagement,  yes?  (He  looks  round  with  ptitnui- 


,  oo          u  tinui- 

iniiiij  approval.)     You  hat  hier  a  fery  gomfprdable  liddle  dickins. 

8  pen.  A  little  —  '  Oh,  of  course,  it  is  comfortable  —  might 
be  a  trifle  larger,  perhaps. 

Fritz.  A  goot  deal.  I  schmell  your  muddon  oal  the  vay 
op.slitairs. 

Kpen.  (with  some  stiffness).  I'm  afraid  it  is  —  ah  —  perceptible. 
One  of  the  inconveniences  of  a  small  house. 

Fritz.  Oh,  it's  no  madder.  Ven  I  am  hongry  I  do  not  opject 
to  a  muddon-schmell.  And,  however  schmall  the  liddle  house, 
as  I  say  to  mine  HBNRIETTE,  "  alvays,  when  we  are  married,  we 
keeb  a  gomer  for  our  goot  SBENCEH.  Nefer  we  hermit  him  to 
lif  by  himself  a  zolidary  !  " 

Spen.  You  're  extremely  considerate.  I  'm  glad  to  say  that 
I  —  ah—  do  not  anticipate  being  solitary.  Perhaps  you  haven't 
heard  that  I  expect  to  marry  myself  very  shortly  ? 

Fritz  (staring).  You  exbect  -  !  Ha,  ha.  I  see  —  gabitall 
You  dry  to  bull  my  leek  ?  Golossal  I  Very  vonny  ! 

Spen.  I  am  sorry  it  strikes  you  as  humorous,  but  it  happens 
to  be  the  simple  truth. 

Fritz.  So?  (Blankly.)  Pedder  lade,  you  think,  as  nefer  at 
all?  After  all,  some  bfeasaiit  elterly  laty  - 

Henr.  My  dear  FRITZ,  1  don't  think  that  quite  describes  Miss 
MARIGOLD  I 

Fritz.  MARIGOLT!  (To  SPENCER.)  You  marry  a  laty  of  the 
name  of  MARIGOLT? 

Spen.  Miss  MERCY  MARIGOLD.  It  's  not  very  likely  you  have 
met-—  Perhaps  the  name  is  familiar. 

Fritz.  No,  the  name  is  shdraiuch,  else  I  am  not  surbrised.  I 
nefer  meed  her. 

Spen.  (as  MERCY  re-enters).  Then  let  me  make  you  acquainted. 
MERCY,  my  darling,  Mr.  FRITZ  VON  GUBLER. 

Fritz  (with  wooden  composure).  Glat  to  meed  Miss  MARIGOLT 
for  the  first  dime. 

Mercy  (demurely).  Offully  pleased  to  make  your  acquaintance. 
We  certainly  ought  to  know  one  another. 

Fritz  (suspiciously).  We  ought  to  —  Peg  your  bardon,  I  do 
not  gombrehend. 

Mercy.  Oh,  I  only  meant  because  we  have  a  mutual  friend  — 
dear  Lord  COLESHAFTS,  you  know  I 

Fritz  (stiffly).  I  ain  not  aware  I  haf  ever  the  bleaaure  to  meet 
you  at  Borings. 

[He  stares  at  her  with  stolid  disapproval,  by  whith  she  ap- 
pears very  little  impressed  ;  SPBNOEK  looks  on  in  bewilder- 
ment, and  HENRIETTA  with  a  dismay  that  is  tinged  with 
dawning  hope. 

WITH  THE  JOLLY  YOUNG  WATER-COLOUR-MEN. 

'Tis  a  pity  that  the  initials  of  the  Royal  Institute  of  Painters 
in  Water  Colours  should  be  the  funereal  "R.I.  P.,"  as  this  exhi- 
bition proves  them  not  only  to  be  "All  alive,  O,"  but  also  "  going 
uncommonly  strong."  The  R.I.  P.  was  never  in  better  health. 
The  Olympians  directing  the  annual  exhibition  at  Burlington 
House  would  do  well  to  take  a  hint  from  the  neat  little  guide- 
book which  the  Royal  Institute  of  Water  Colourists  issues,  price 
one  shilling,  including  an  elegant  pencil  attached  to  the  catalogue 
by  a  strong  silken  cord. 

We  proceed  to  view  the  water-colour  treasures  here  gathered 
together  on  the  top  storey,  a  locality  suggestive  of  very  High 
Art.  Wliy  isn't  there  a  lift?  However,  there  is  not  a  lift,  so, 
obey  the  R.  I.  showman,  and  "  Walk  up  !  Walk  up  !  " 

Commence  in  the  most  filial  manner,  by  paying  your  respects 
to  your  DADD,  of  whose  humorous  handiwork  No.  2,  "  Who's 
there?"  (an  old  householder  preparing  to  receive  burglars)  is  an 
excellent  specimen.  Then  note  No.  18,  Mr.  R.  D.  FRY'S  "  Whn 
would  Ix-  a  Whip?"  As  time  and  space  allow  us  only  a  rapid 
visit,  go  on  to  A.  KINSLEY'S  "A  Breezy  Afternoon,"  and  you'll 
loam  what  a  sea-water  colourist  can  do.  Now  take  a  turn  inland, 
and  rest  awhile  at  YEEND  KING'S  No.  59,  Tankerness  House. 
Lovely.  Drop  into  the  farmyard  at  111,  and  see  ARTHUR 
WARDLE'S  "  Three  Pigs  and  a  Pup."  "  If  it  's  humour  you  want," 
as  Mr.  BRANDON  THOMAS  used  to  say  in  The  Pantomime  Rehearsal, 
why,  here  it  is.  Only,  why  are  the  pigs  pink  ? 

Indoors  again,  and  see  FRANK  DADO'S  Squire  sitting  for  his 
portrait,  No.  146.  Charming.  At  160  you  will  pause  to  wonder 


DOMESTIC    ECONOMY. 

She.  "So  MR.  BINNS   is  GIVING    us  A  GREAT  BARGAIN  IN  THAT 
WINE.    ONLY  SEVENTY-SEVEN  SHILLINGS  A  DOZEN  !  " 
He.  '"M — THAT'S  A  STIFFISH  PKICE  FOR  us,  RATHER." 

She.      "BUT     HE     ASSURES     ME     IT    IB    HIS     REUULAB 

CHAMPAGNE.    So   WE   SAVE   QUITE   TWSLV*  SHILLH/OS  ON   EACH 
DOZEN  ! " 


how  MILTON  ever  dared  to  publish  his  Paradise  Lost  after  hia 
MS.  had  been  so  severely  criticised  by  CROMWELL.  No  wonder 
the  poet  only  got  five  pounds  for  it.  Mr.  WMPBEJS,  in  his  High 
Down,  Dartmoor,  has  chosen  the  very  subject  for  water-colours. 
Mr.  DOLLMAN'S  Dogma,"  representing  two  old-fashioned  clergy- 
men discussing  a  knotty  point  in  the  presence  of  a  portly  port- 
winey  parson,  is  good ;  but  the  portly  one  is  a  trifle  too  lumin- 
ously pink,  just  aa  the  pigs  are  in  ARTHUR  WARDLE'S  above- 
mentioned.  These  two  artists  should  advertise,  "Pinking 
done  here."  FRANK  WALTON'S  (207)  Land's  End,  excellent. 
Quite  freshening  to  look  at  it.  Do  not  pass  No.  368,  "  La  Vida 


you  are  up  in  modern  music-hall  classics,  you  will  be  inclined  to 
ask,  "  Oh,  can  it  be  love  ?  "  Now  "  Hook  the  west  port,"  that  is, 
enter  the  West  Gallery,  and  make  for  a  picture  by  LUCIBN  DAVIS, 
R.I.,  No.  82,  entitled,  "  Are  you  coming?"  It  is  excellent  in 
every  way,  but,  as  it  is  hung  only  about  a  foot  from  the  floor, 
you  will  have  to  go  on  your  hands  and  knees  to  see  it,  a  position 
to  which  even  the  worshippers  of  this  clever  artist  might  object. 

In  Nos.  190,  193,  194,  195  you  will  see  choice  TENNIELS,  from 
Mr.  Punch's  collection,  as  is  also  181,  by  J.  BERNARD  PARTRIDGE, 
who,  "  in  another  place,"  i.e.  East  Gallery.  No.  333,  has  con- 
tributed a  pleasant  water-coil  our  sketch,  The  Church  of  St. 
Enogat,  Dinard.  Before  leaving,  make  your  most  polite  bow 
to  Sir  JAMES  LINTON'B  "  Ensalind,"  looking  as  fresh  as  paint  can 
make  her,  and  thank  him  for  a  most  pleasant  entertainment. 


SUGGESTION  TO  A  WELL-KNOWN  THEATRICAL  PERRUQUIER. — W  hy. 
among  your  wonderful  list  of  various  kinds  of  wigs,  for  all 
sorts  and  conditions  of  theatrical  characters,  do  you  not  include 
some  special  wigs  for  "  Bald  Translators  "  ? 


150 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  27,  1897. 


"THAT'S  MH.   SOAKKH,   WHO   MARRIED   Miss   DASHWOOD.     THEY  SAY  HE'S   SUCH   AN 
INDULGENT  HUSBAND  !  " 

"YES  ;  I  'VE  EVEN  HKARD  THAT  HE  SOMETIMES— ER— INDULGES—  A  LITTLE  TOO  MUCH  !" 


WITNESSES  IN  WAITING. 

DEAR  MB.  PUNCH,  —  You  are  a  well- 
known  advocate  of  justice,  but  I  imagine 
that  you  are  no  supporter  of  Themis 
as  personified  at  the  Old  Bailey.  It 
has  recently  been  my  ill  fate  to  have  been 
summoned  to  the  Old  Bailey — not  as  a 
criminal,  but  as  a  witness.  I  believe,  Sir, 
in  all  truth  that  I  should  have  been  better 
treated  in  tha  former  capacity.  If  an  Eng- 
lishman be  arrested  in  Paris,  Berlin,  Con- 
stantinople, or  Johannesburg,  it  is  long 
odds  that  he  will  indite  a  threatening, 
abusive,  or  piteous  letter  to  the  Times, 
declaring  that  he  has  been  thrown  into  the 
society  of  the  scum  which  always  rises  to 
the  top,  or  amid  the  cosmopolitan  dregs 
that  generally  sink  to  the  bottom. 


I  cannot  conceive,  however,  that  his  case 
could  be  worse  than  mine,  that  of  a  law- 
abiding,  rate-paying  and  honest  citizen. 
Day  by  day  for  one  week,  guarded  by 
inspectors  and  detectives,  I  have  been 
thrust  among  as  offensive  a  crew  as  ever 
desecrated  the  name  of  humanity.  Day 
by  day — for  the  indictment  on  which  I  at- 
tended was  continually  being  postponed — I 
was  forced  to  be  a  wretched  sufferer. 
Raucous  ruffians  exchanged  fearsome  jokes 
with  the  New  Women  of  the  lowest  class, 
while  impudent  scoundrels  openly  jeered 
at  the  constables  who  seemed  powerless  to 
secure  decent  behaviour  within  a  few  feet 
of  the  august  Recorder  and  the  other 
judges  assembled  to  maintain  the  majesty 
of  the  Law.  If  there  be  with  us  a  modern 
HOGARTH  to-day,  let  him  hie  to  the  Old 


Bailey,  and  depict  with  photographic  ex- 
actness the  trials,  not  of  the  dock,  but  ol 
the  witness-box.  Yours  irritatedly, 

DECIMUS  DRACO. 
Justinian  Lodge,  Clapham. 


'AERY  ON   DIAMOND  JUBILEE 
CHARITY  IN.  GENERAL, 

And  the  Invalid  Children's  Aid  Association 
in  Particular. 

[The  Invalid  Children's  Aid  Association,  ^Buck- 
ingham Street,  Strand,  is  greatly  in  need  ol  money 
for  surgical  appliances  and  long  stays  at  nursing 
homes.j 

DEAR  CHARLIE, — You  've  been  on  the  won- 
der for  weeks,  or  I  reckon  you  'ave, 

As  to  wot  'ad  become  of  your  chum.  Well 
he  's  'ad,  ah  !  the  narrowest  shave  1 

Flung  bang  off  my  bike  at  a  brick  wall, 
when  scorching  down  hill  against  time 

Only  just  wot  they  call  "  converlescent "  ;  : 
state,  my  dear  boy,  as  is  prime. 

I  Ve  gone  a  bit  soft  in  the  uptake  along  of 

long  danger  and  pain. 
On  your  back  in  a  bed,  with  ribs  bandaged, 

and  small  chance  of  biking  again, 
Or  padding  the  hoof  e'en  on  crutches,  with 

fever-dreams  spinning  like  mad 
About    your    shaved    head — well,     there, 

CHARLIE,  it  limbers  you  out  like,  my 

lad. 

Way-oh  I  I  must  turn  off  that  tap, 
CHARLIE!  'Tain't  in  my  line,  as  you 
know, 

But  I  Ve  just  had  a  spell  at  the  pypers,  fust 
time  for  two  months,  don'tcherknow, 

And  they're  full  up  with  "Diamond  Jubi- 
lee," Prince  o'  WALES'  Fund,  and  all 
that. 

Well,  I  tell  you  this  "Charity,"  CHARLIE, 
is  not  wot  I  fancied,  that 's  flat. 

I  'ave  called  it  mollyslop  muck,  mate,  but 

when  you  Ve  'ad  Hospital  care, 
When    you're    down    on    your   luck   and 

broke-up  like,  then  Charity  takes  on 

a  air 
Which  to  chaff  and  to  chivvy  permiskus  is 

like  shying  stones  at  a  saint ; 
So  this  Jubilee  Charity  's  real  good  bizness, 

I  'm  blowed  if  it  ain't. 

There 's  the  "  Invalid  Children,"  now, 
Charlie  1  Nurse  GRACE  has  been  tel- 
ling a  tale 

Of  them  poor  young  kid-cripples  whose  suf- 
ferings would  make  good  old  GORDON 
go  pale. 

Poor  ricketty,  twisted,  pale  morsels — I  Ve 
seen  'em,  old  man,  and  I  know — 

With  their  crutches,  and  cramped  limbs, 
and  faces  grey-white  like  a  slum  in  the 
snow. 

They  "Surgical  Aid"  them,  these  children, 
at  Buckingham  Street,  in  the  Strand. 

Eighteen,  Nurse  GRACE  says  is  their  num- 
ber. Now,  instrument,  bandage  and 
band 

For  their  maimed  little  limbs  will  cost 
money.  Perhaps  my  own  turn  makes 
me  queer ; 

But  wot  do  you  think  of  this  job  for  our 
Diamond  Jubilee  Year  ? 

Vot  so  toffy  and  taking  a  Charity,  CHARLIE, 
as  some,  I  dessay  ; 

Jut  long  stays  at  nice  Nursing  Homes  for 
poor  nippers  in  pain  who  can't  pay ! — 

iVell,  I  must  cut  this  short,  feeling  limp- 
like  ;  but  I  '11  send  'em  all  I  can  carry, 

\nd  if  H.R.H.  wouldn't  back  me  like 
beans,  it's  a  wonder  to  'ARRY. 


PUNCH,    OH   THK   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— MARCH  27,  1897. 


THE    GREEK    MOTH. 


MARCH  27,  1897.1 


PUNCH,    ol:    THE    LONDON    ril.MMVAIM. 


153 


OVERHEARD    AT    A    CITY    RESTAURANT. 

"I  SAID  WELSH  RADISH,  NOT  HOUSE  RABBIT!" 


AUGUSTE  EN  ANGLETEERE. 

LONDON. 

DEAK  MISTER, — I  hare  spoken  you  of  my  voyage  to  Mark  Lane. 
Eh  well,  1  visit  the  Tower,  1  find  there  some  things  enough 
curious,  some  crowns  enougb  superb,  and  some  "  beefeaters  "  in 
middle-aged  costume  very  picturesque.  Ah,  the  brave  eaters  ol 
beet  I  And  see  there  all  I  Therefore  I  come  again  to  Charing- 
cross,  by  the  Railway  under  Ground,  where  I  voyage  at  present 
without  difficulty,  after  some  rude  proofs — de  rwdes  epreuves. 

f  shall  forget  never  my  first  voyage  in  this  subterranean.  1 
came  of  to  arrive  at  .London.  I  stuoUed  carefully  the  plan  of  tht 
town  and,  for  to  see  this  Hailway  under  Ground,  1  willed  to  go 
one  day  trom  Charingcross  to  Gowerstreet,  the  half  of  the  circle. 
In  that  time  there  i  believed  that  there  was  but  one  sole  circle, 
and  that  all  the  trains  traversed  the  same  road.  By  consequence, 
after  to  have  found  the  quay — thing  enough  difficult — je  m'elancai, 
1  shot  myself,  in  the  first  train.  Having  observed  on  the  plan 
fourteen  stations  from  Charmgcross  to  Gowerstreet,  i  inquieted 
myself  not  of  the  all  that  he  was  to  me  absolutely  impossible 
that  of  to  distinguish  the  names  of  the  stations  where  the  traiii 
arrested  himself,  it  is  true  that,  at  the  middle  of  the  obscuntj 
and  of  the  smoke,  I  saw  some  names,  much  of  names,  evidentlj 
some  announces,  some  reclames,  but  never  the  name  of  the  station. 
Alter  to  have  passed  of  them  several  we  were  in  full  air.  1  re- 
spired again.  Then  the  train  advanced  at  the  middle  of  trees 
and  of  gardens,  and  traversed  a  river.  ''  Quelle  ville  enorme!"  1 
thought.  "  I'uila  le  beau  quarticr  tout  awprus  de  la  Tamise, 
piubablement  le  Hyd  I'arc  que  j'ai  remarque  sur  le  plan."  Yet 
two  or  three  stations  and  then  the  train  arrested  himself  during 
some  minutes. 

I  attend  patiently.  A  factor  opens  the  portiere  and  says  me, 
"Olchaingiah."  Cid,  quel  nom!  Sans  Juute  uiie  MIC,  i-mnme  la 
rue  Olborn.  "No,"  1  respond  to  him,  "  Govairestrete." 
"  Blouminufrennche,"  says  he  at  low  voice,  and  then  he  shouts, 
"  Olchaingiah."  "  1  am  not  deaf,"  I  say,  "  1  have  heard  the  name 
of  this  station.  I  go  not  to  Olchaingiah,  but  to  Govairestrete." 
Then  he  makes  me  some  signs,  I  comprehend  that  I  must  to 


change  of  carriage,  I  descend,  and  one  employed  demands  my 
ticket.  "Allo,"  says  he,  "  Gaouahstrite."  Ah,  un  le  prononce 
1-1,111110;  fa!  Then  one  explicates  to  me  that  it  is  here  the  station 
of  Kiclicnionilc,  and  that  I  ought  to  return  to  the  station  of 
QloMtetoda  for  to  go  to  Gaouahstrite. 

Kh  well,  I  part,  and  this  time  1  search  very  carefully  the  names 
of  the  stations.  1  see  of  them  several  on  the  lamps,  but  not 
(ilossterode.  After  nearly  one  hour  of  voyage  the  train  arrests 
linn-ell '  during;  some  minutes,  and  1  think  that  it  is  the  embranch- 
ment of  Glossterode,  when  a  factor  opens  the  portiere  and  says 
me,  "Olchaingiah."  Sapristit  Apri'i  une  heure  de  voyagel 
C'est  assommant !  Again  1  arrive  to  Olchaingiah  by  anotner 
route  I  I  descend  furious.  11  y  avait  de  quoi,  he  had  there  of 
what.  "  How,"  I  demand,  "  is  it  again  tlie  station  of  Riche- 
monde,  which  calls  herself  Olchaingiah?"  "Not  Richemonde," 
responds  he  very  quick,  "  Mannshnaouss.  Richemondes  thothe- 
way.  Go  back  in  thisire  train." 

1  mount  again  one  time  in  the  carriage.  I  pass  again  a  dozen 
of  stations,  and  then  1  become  so  fatigued  that  i  insleep  myself, 
je  m'endora.  A  cry  awakes  me.  I  listen.  It  is  "  Olchaingiah. 
Hacre  nom  de  nom !  Encore  cette  gare !  J'en  ai  atsez,  I  have  of  it 
enough.  See  there  three  hours  that  I  voyage,  and  1  make  but 
of  to  arrive  to  this  villain  station !  I  will  not  to  go  to  Gowerstreet, 
1  shall  go  no  part,  i  shall  go  direct  to  the  hotel.  1  throw  my 
ticket,  1  buy  one  other,  I  demand  at  each  station  if  we  are  ar- 
rived to  Charingcross,  comme  fa,  as  that,  I  succeed  to  distingu  sh 
her,  and  in  fine  1  quit  this  miserable  railway,  suttocated,  fatigued, 
disgusted,  but  happily  without  to  arrive  again  one  time  at 
Olchaingiah.  Agree,  &c.,  AUGUSTS. 

HENRY    BLACKBURN. 

Died  at  Bordiyliera,  March  9,  1897,  Aged  67. 
FAREWELL,  long-tried  and  genial  friend  of  Art  I 
"  Academy  Notes  "  made  yours  a  household  name ; 
In  picture-land  you  bravely  bore  your  part, 
And  earned  a  place  in  Britain's  roll  of  fame. 

"R.A.,"  New  Gallery,  will  know  no  more 
Their  guide  and  mentor  that  returned  each  May ; 
Bound  homeward,  on  the  far  Italian  shore, 
A  kindly  soul  in  sleep  has  passed  away. 

ENGLAND'S  PEACEFUL  MISSION. 

In  view  of  recent  events  the  following  regulations  are  suggested 
for  the  conduct  of  Peaceful  Missions  to  barbarian  kings,  <fec. :  — 

(1.)  A  punitive  expedition  shall  start  at  the  same  time  as  each 
peaceful  mission. 

(2.)  The  peaceful  mission  shall  march  not  more  than  four 
hundred  yards  in  front  of  the  punitive  expedition,  or,  not  more 
than  four  hundred  yards  behind  it — as  may  be  considered 
desirable. 

(3.)  Each  member  of  a  peaceful  mission  shall  carry  at  least  one 
(loaded)  Winchester  rifle  (not  necessarily  for  publication,  but  as  a 
guarantee  of  good  faith),  which  may  be  presented  to  or  at  the 
natives  as  circumstances  may  direct. 

(4.)  As  a  precautionary  measure,  a  Salvation  Army  band  shall 
accompany  each  peaceful  mission,  and  in  case  of  emergency  shall 
be  ordered  to  play.  The  officer  in  charge  of  the  mission  will  use 
his  own  discretion  as  to  when  it  is  necessary  to  resort  to  this 
extreme  measure. 

(5.)  At  least  one  Maxim  gun— properly  muzzled  according  fc 
the  regulations  of  the  County  Council— will  be  attached  to  each 
peaceful  mission. 

(6.)  A  transport  waggon  will  accompany  each  mission  to  carry 
the  visiting  cards  of  the  members.  The  officer  in  charge  will  be 
responsible  for  the  proper  distribution  of  these  cards  among  the 
local  chiefs,  according  to  their  relative  standing  and  the  extent 
of  their  families.  For  convenience  of  transport,  and  to  ensure 
prompt  delivery,  the  cards  will  bo  made  up  in  the  form  of 
cartridges. 

(7.)  Should  the  chief  to  whom  the  peaceful  mission  is  sent  re- 
quire explanation  on  any  point  connected  with  the  mission,  he  is 
to  be  at  once  referred  to  the  officer  in  command  of  the  punitive 
expedition,  who  has  orders  to  afford  him  every  satisfactn 
his  power. 

Special  note.— In  future  the  Riot  Act  is  to  be  read  after  a 
massacre  instead  of  before,  as  laid  down  in  former  regulations. 


GOOD  NAMES.— The  well-known  advertising  agent    WILLING,  is 
turning  himself  into  a  company.     Just  the  man 
LINO  has  "  the  ready,"  so  what  better  trading  firm  can  there 
than  "  The  Ready  and  Willing  "  t 


154 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAHCU  27,  1897. 


CRUMPLED    ROSE-LEAF. 


Fair  Sitter.  "OF  COURSE  I  KNOW  IT  's  AWFULLY  ARTISTIC,  AND  I  "M  SURE  I  COULDN'T  TELL  IT  FROM  A  REYNOLDS,  OR  A  KAPHAEL, 

OR  ANY  Of  THOSE   OLD   PAINTERS  ;   BUT,    STILL,    I   DO   WISH   YOU   COULD   WORK   IN   MY   BlCYCLE  SOMEHOW  !" 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

MR.  GRANT  ALLEN  has  been  at  considerable  pains  to  write  some 
historical  guide-books  for  the  instruction  of  travellers.  They 
deal  in  detail  with  objects  of  art  and  antiquity,  showing  how  local 
habitations  grew  to  what  they  were  once,  and  then  became  what 
they  are  now.  In  Paris,  for  example,  our  guide,  philosopher,  and 
friend,  posing  as  Le  Viable  Boiteux,  takes  the  traveller  on  a  flying 
visit,  passing  over  the  Champs  Elysees,  le  Tour  Eiffel,  the  Musee 
Grevin,  and  other  "  vulgar  wonders,"  letting  him  drop  into  Notre 
Dame,  then  into  La  Sainte  Chapelle,  then  among  the  mediseval 
carvings  and  tapestries  of  Cluny,  and  finally  deposits  him  safe 
and  sound  in  the  galleries  of  the  Louvre.  In  all  these  places  Mr. 
GRANT  ALLEN  will  give  you,  in  the  pleasantest  manner  possible, 
a  fuller  account  of  the  art  treasures  and  of  the  history  of  each 
place  than  can  be  found  in  the  necessarily  limited  space  of  a 
"common  or  garden."  guide-book.  Modestly  does  our 
J)iable  Boiteux  apologise  in  his  preface  for  not  being  invari- 
ably correct.  He  owns  that  some  of  his  information  may  be 
erroneous,  and  he  implores  whatever  gentle  reader  may  detect 
the  guide's  shortcomings  not  to  be  too  hard  on  him,  but  to  speak 
gently  of  the  author's  slip,  and  to  set  him  right  without  un- 
necessary harshness,  and  without  causing  a  rupture  between  him- 
self and  his  publisher.  Any  such  errors  it  will  take  Mr.  Sam 
M  elleT'l  "  patent  double  million  magnifyin"  gas  microscopes  of 
hextra  power"  to  detect,  and  it  may  be  with  certainty  affirmed 
of  both  these  historical  Guide-Books  to  Paris  and  to  Florence  that 
they  will  be  most  useful  companions  to  the  traveller,  and  will 
afford  delightfully  instructive  entertainment  to  those  who,  in 
consequence  of  the  res  angusta  domi,  or  for  any  other  reason, 
can  only  make  the  grand  tour  in  their  own  comfortable  arm- 
chair at  home. 

The  Story  of  Aline  (CHAPMAN  AND  HALL)  comes  to  hand  in 
second  edition  form.  My  Baronite  ventures  to  predict  that  before 
long  it  will  have  passed  far  beyond  that  satisfactory  mark  of 
public  esteem.  Presumably  a  first  novel,  it  is  marked  by  rare 
workmanship.  There  is  nothing  particular  about  the  plot,  which 


is  the  old,  old  story  of  the  wrong  people  marrying  whilst  the 
right  people  were  within  reach,  withheld  from  possession  by 
temporary  accident.  But  the  successive  phases  are  worked  out 
with  surpassing  skill.  Nothing  could  be  cleverer  than  the  way  in 
which  Mrs.  EDWARD  HIDLEY  Tightly  withdraws  from  the  scene, 
taking  her  puppets  with  her,  just  when  she  has  brought  her 
story  (or  her  story  has  brought  her)  into  a  dangerously  embar- 
rassing situation.  The  word  puppets  is  here  used  without  pre- 
judice. The  men  and  women  who  work  out  The  Story  of 
Aline  are  real  flesh  and  blood,  even  those  of  minor  importance 
being  moulded  with  sure  instinct  and  plastic  fingers.  Certainly 
one  of  the  best  novels  of  the  still  young  year.  THE  BARON. 

"  KWAAJE." 

IF  a  word  more  short  than  civil  you  should  happen  to  desire, 
To  preserve  for  future  uses  in  a  note-book  or  cahier, 

Pious,  polished  Mr.  KRUGER  can  supply  what  you  require 
In  that  word  of  many  meanings,  that  debatable  "kwaaje." 

Then,  if  you  are  somewhat  like  him,  with  a  Puritanic  style, 

And  a  simple  sort  of  speaking,  saying  just  "Ah,  nay  1  Ah,  yea  1  " 
It  is  possible  your  pious  air  may  save  you  for  a  while 

From  the  kicking  which  should  follow  when  you  call  a  Queen 

"kwaaje." 
But  perhaps  we  should  remember,  when  discussing  Boer  Dutch, 

That,  in  his  enlightened  country,  of  the  canaux,  canaille  et 
Canards,  twoare  not  so  frequent — ducks,  canals — so  there  is  much 

Of  the  third,  who  speak  of  ladies  so  politely  as  "  kwaaje." 

GOINO  CHEAP. — "  A  Complete  Peerage  for  Half-a-Crown." 
Hurry  up,  and  don't  miss  this  chance — you  may  not  get  another. 
But  it  turns  out  to  be  nothing  more  than  the  guide  to  a  now 
work  published  by  the  proprietors  of  Whitaker's  Almanack. 

FRENCH  FOR  A  GAMBLING  CLUB. — "  Un  Cercle  Vicieux." 


MARCH  27,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


155 


THE  ARMS-BEARER'S  VADE  MECUM. 

Qiifxlinn.  What  is  your  reason  for  as- 
suming arms  ? 

An.ttirr.  Tho  custom  enables  mo  to 
adorn  my  note-paper  and  furniture  in  a 
pleasing  fashion. 

Q.  Does  the  assumption  need  the  sanc- 
tion of  the  Heralds'  College? 

I.  Speaking  by  the  card,  "yes,"  but 
many  arm-bearers  are  satisfied  with  the 
display  of  their  crest  and  motto  by  publi- 
city-seek ing  stationers. 

Q.  Is  th?re  any  penalty  attaching  to  the 
assumption  of  unauthorised  arms? 

.1.  The  earl  marsh.il  in  olden  days  had 
the  right  to  efface  a  false  armorial  bearing 
from  a  shield  or  the  panels  of  a  carriage. 

Q.  Is  it  likely  that  the  earl  marshal  of 
to-day  would  exercise  such  a  right? 

A.  Most  unlikely,  as  the  present,  Duke 
of  NORFOLK  is  a  most  courteous  gentleman, 
who  would  probably  shrink  from  running 
the  risk  of  being  served  with  a  police  court 
summons.  Besides,  his  Grace,  as  Post- 
master-General, has  other  things  to  do. 

Q.  Is  there  any  other  punishment  for 
the  assumption  of  false  armorial  bearings? 

A.  An  occasional  exposure  in  a  news- 
paper, and  the  chronic,  but  partially-con- 
cealed, merriment  of  one's  friends. 

Q.  Is  there  any  defence  for  assuming  a 
device  without  the  sanction  of  the  autho- 
rities that  are  in  Queen  Victoria  Street  ? 

A.  Certainly;  had  the  heralds  continued 
their  "visitations"  beyond  the  middle  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  there  would  have 
been  no  difficulty  in  ascertaining  "  who  's 
who  "  at  the  end  of  the  nineteenth. 

Q.  Then  if  SMITH  of  Tooting  assumes 
the  arms  of  the  Duke  of  SMITHSHIRE,  he  is 
not  to  blame  ? 

A.  He  has  no  ground  but  "to  the  best 
of  his  belief"  upon  which  to  work.  As 
both  he  and  the  Peer  claim  SMITH  for  a 
patronymic,  it  is  possible  that  there  may 
be  a  blood  relationship  between  them. 

Q.  Would  the  assumption  receive  the 
sanction  of  "  Garter  "  and  his  associates  ? 

A.  No  ;  but  they  might  assist  SMITH  in 
obtaining  arms  something  like  the  Duke's 
in  composition,  but  twice  as  elaborate  and 
several  times  more  handsome. 

Q.  Do  you  think  that  there  is  a  univer- 
sal blood  relationship? 

.1.   Yes,  with  a  common  source  in  NOAH. 

Q.  Can  you  not  carry  the  human  pedi- 
gree further? 

-I.  Certainly,  it  dates  back  to  ADAM. 

Q.  Hut  you  cannot  give  the  direct  line 
of  ascent  from  NOAH  to  EVE'S  husband. 

.1.    No  more  can  the  Heralds'  College. 

TWINS. 

Two  baby  girls!     My  brain,  O  Fate, 
^At  your  excessive  bounty  whirls! 
With  fatuous  joy  I  contemplate 

Two  baby  girls ! 
I  Ml  christen  them  as  one  who  hurls 

Defiance  at  convention  strait — 
"  Bubble  "  and  "  Squeak  "  dyspeptic  churls 

Slimiest  as  names  appropriate. 
Yet  what  to  call  my  precious  pearls? 
I  have  it — KATE  and  DUPLI-KATE! 
Two  baby  girls! 


Close-fisted. 

Mrs.  Savcall  (after  reading  contents  bill 
of  newspaper).  What  luck  the  Prince  of 
WALES  do  'ave!  He  won  the  Derby  with 
FitzSimmons,  and  now  'e  's  carried  off  the 
"  Great  Contest  in  America "  with  same 
good  old  'orse.  No,  my  boy,  I  don't  want 
to  buy  the  paper  ;  the  news  is  enough  ! 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

KXTKACTKD    KKOM   THB    DlARY    OF   ToBY,    M.P. 

House  of  Common*^  Monday,  March  15. 
--With  Education  Hill  in  Committee  the 
nights  pass  and  resemble  each  other.  Con- 
sideiing  enormity  of  interests  at  issue, 
depth  of  passion  stirred,  proceedings  are 
dolefully  dull.  JOHN  o'  GORST  sitting  at 
end  of  bench  a  picture  of  monumental  woe 
is  enough  of  himself  to  make  the  soul 
sad.  Beyond  is  the  hopelessness  of  the 
whole  business.  The  task  of  SAHK'H  old 
friend  Sisyphus  quite  a  lively  and  varied 


Sir  William  decline*  to  "  Name  the  day." 

performance  compared  with  that  of  Mem- 
bers in  charge  or  amendments  to  Educa- 
tion Bill.  After  one  has  been  rolled  a  little 
way  up  the  hill,  PRINCE  ARTHUR  drops  the 
closure  on  it,  and  away  it  goes  to  the  bot- 
tom. Another  is  substituted,  and  same 
process  takes  place. 

Not  even  the  excitement  of  threatened 
revolt  in  Ministerial  ranks.  HOBHOUSE 
occasionally  hesitates  in  doubt ;  but  there 
is  nothing  revolutionary  about  HOBHOUSB. 
COURTNEY  more  promising  of  sport.  But 
he  labours  under  disadvantage  of  being 
naturally  expected  to  differ  from  his 
own  side — whichever  it  may  chance  to 
be.  The  salt  of  the  daily  food  of  the 
House  of  Commons  is  the  unexpected.  If 
COURTNEY  would  some  day  agree  with  the 
majority  of  the  moment,  then  would  thrill 
through  the  House  the  joy  of  the  unex- 
pected, its  one  unfailing  refreshment. 

PRINCE  ARTHUR,  bound  to  the  labouring 
oar,  grows  fretful.  To  sit  hour  after  hour 
listening  to  Members  opposite  saying  the 
same  thing  over  again  at  slightly  increased 
length  is  a  trial  to  the  brazen  Mace.  For 
PRINCB  ARTHUR  it  is  torture.  Yet  if  he 
followed  his  impulse,  went  out  to  put  his 
feet  on  the  mantelpiece  of  his  own  room 
for  a  glad  half  hour,  he  might  come  back 
to  find  the  Vice-President  of  the  Council 
had  been  "  saying  things,"  So  he  site  it 
out,  and  just  as  when  an  elderly  maiden 
lady  is  about  to  faint  she  applies  her 
smelling-salts,  so  PRINCE  ARTHUR,  when 
state  of  coma  is  almost  reached,  moves  the 
closure. 

SQUIRE  OP  MALWOOD,  in  happier  circum- 
stances, spares  himself  an  occasional  hour's 
attendance.  Fortune  has  given  PRINCE 
ARTHTTR  a  bie  majority,  tempered  by  JOHN 
o'  GORST.  Heaven  has  put  the  SQUTRB  OF 
MALWOOD  in  a  minority,  but  has  blessed 
him  with  a  blameless  ex-Vice-President  of 
the  Council.  Sometimes  PRINCE  ARTHUR, 


sighing,  says  MAI.WOOD'M  is  the  happier 
state.  Certainly  ACI.AMI,  standing  at  tint 
table  discoursing  learnedly  about  the  Bill, 
makes  no  angry  passions  rise.  His  preach- 
ments are  disturbed  only  by  wonder  that 
he  has  omitted  to  put  on  the  surplice  and 
bands  good  curates  usually  wear. 

The  most  effective  speeches  delivered 
from  Front  Opposition  Bench  in  the  long 
palaver  are  HBNRY  FOWLER'S.  Brief, 
pointed,  comprehensive  in  view,  moderate 
in  tone,  they  sometimes  almost  persuade 
PRINCE  ARTHUR  to  concede  an  amendment. 
Hesisting  the  temptation,  he  pounces 
instead. 

Jliitinfss  done. — In  Committee  on  Educa- 
tion Bill. 

Tvftday. — House  deeply  indebted  to 
Jonv  WILSON  of  Falkirk  for  making  it  ac- 
quainted with  one  of  the  most  delightful 
military  forces  ever  paraded  off  the  operatic 
stage.  The  5th  Battalion  of  the  Lanark 
Volunteer  Scottish  Rifles  is  the  full  style 
blazoned  on  the  scroll  of  fame.  There  has. 
it  appears,  been  some  little  difference  of 
opinion  between  the  battalion  and  the 
War  Office.  War  Office  tyranically  used 
its  authority  to  disband  the  battalion. 
Forthwith  the  heather  aflame ;  public 
meetings  stirred  Lanarkshire  to  lowest 
depths  of  its  mines :  public  meetings  held 
in  every  parish :  SECRETARY  OF  STATE 
FOR  WAR  burned  in  effigy ;  ST.  JOHN 
BRODRICK  periodically  blown  up  by  small 
chnrees  of  cordite. 

JOHN  WILSON  charged  to  brine  matters 
under  notice  of  High  Court  of  Parliament. 
A  loyal  Ministerialist,  he  did  not  shrink 
from  duty  imposed  upon  him.  Even  moved 
adjournment  in  order  to  discuss,  as  "  mat- 


L 


'  A  definite  matter  of  urgent  public  importance." 
Mr.  J.  W-ls-n  of  Falkirk. 

ter  of  urgent  public  importance;"  the  ini- 
quitous raid  on  a  gallant  battalion.  This 
made  opening  for  BRODRICK,  who  narrated 
to  delighted  House  the  history  of  the  bat- 
talion. For  fifteen  months  it  ha^  pn^c--ed 
no  Colonel,  and  none  would  undertake  the 
command.  It  frequently  happened  at  com- 


156 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MARCH  27,  1897. 


pany  parades  no  officer  was  present.  This 
of  loss  importance,  since  few  of  them  knew 
the  word  of  command.  If  it  chanced  to  be 
forthcoming  the  men  did  not  understand 
it.  On  one  occasion  a  gallant  private 
marched  on  parade  in  his  slippers.  Leav- 
ing the  parade-ground  after  triumphantly 
demonstrating  their  total  ignorance  of  ele- 
mentary drill,  the  men  started  a  fru  (If 


pacity,  they  dare  not  move  a  vote  of  cen- 
sure. 

A  ringing  cheer  sent  home  this  shaft. 
Vou  could  almost  see  it  quivering  in  the 
broad  breast  of  the  SQUIRE  OK  MALWOOD 
as  he  stood  at  the  table  to  answer  the 
challenge.  Party  feeling,  long  pent  up  in 
Committee  on  Education  Bill,  rushed 
downward  like  a  cataract.  Cheers  and 


Another  Case  for  Disbandment. 


joie,  firing  off  blank  cartridges.  So  pleased 
with  the  martial  sound  that,  taking  train 
homeward  bound,  they  in  similar  measure 
woke  the  echoes  at  every  station. 

A  right  rollicking,  light-hearted  crew,  the 
5th  Battalion  of  the  Lanark  Volunteer 
Scottish  Rifles.  SARK  says  they  must  have 
been  originally  drafted  from  Little 
Dunkel',  the  parish  famed  in  song. 
0  what  a  pirish,  what  a  terrible  palish, 

0  what  a  parish  is  Little  Dunkel' ! 
They  hae  hangit  the  minister,  drowned  the 

precentor, 
Dung  down  the  steeple,  and  drucken  the  bell ! 

Business  done.— Sat  up  all  night  with  the 
Education  Bill. 

Thursday.  —  The  SQUIRE  lounged  in, 
studiously  looking  as  if  he  had  just 
come  up  from  Malwood  after  super- 
intending the  planting-out  of  early  pota- 
toes. "Instead  of  which,"  he  has  been 
down  at  Norwich,  saying  the  most  awful 
things  about  the  best  of  all  Governments. 
The  Opposition,  who  always  want  someone 
to  be  banged  on  the  head,  hail  with  rap- 
turous cheer  the  roving  SQUIRE.  A  little 
later,  PKINCE  ARTHUR  coming  in,  Minis- 
terialists truculently  cheer  him  as  if  he 
had  been  down  at  Ipswich  saying  things 
about  conduct  of  the  Opposition. 

Air  evidently  charged  with  electricity. 
Presently  forked  lightning  flashes  forth, 
playing  with  dangerous  energy  round  two 
front  benches.  DILKE  puts  question  about 
the  inevitable  Crete  ;  JOHN  MORLEY  sup- 
plements it ;  PRINCE  ARTHUR  makes  cau- 
tious reply  on  points  raised  in  question. 
Then,  turning  with  flushed  face  upon  row 
of  archangels  seated  opposite,  he  declares 
he  has  no  satisfaction  in  answering  them, 
seeing  that,  whilst  by  speeches  out  of 
doors  they  endeavour  to  embarrass  the 
Government  to  the  full  limit  of  their  ca- 


counter-cheers  rang  through  the  Chamber. 
If  only  the  SQUIRE  had  been  ready  to  take 
up  the  gage  of  battle  and  fling  it  back  full 
in  PRINCE  ARTHUR'S  face,  a  dramatic  situa- 
tion of  rare  intensity  would  have  been 
complete.  It  would  have  been  magnifi- 
cent ;  but  it  wouldn't  have  been  war. 

So  the  wary  Old  Parliamentary  Hand, 
avoiding  talk  about  votes  of  censure,  went 
back  to  speech  of  French  Ministry  in 
their  Chamber  last  Monday  ;  to  what  the 
MARKISS  had  said  about  them,  on  Tuesday  ; 
and  to  what  a  pass  we  have  come,  when 
the  Mother  of  Parliaments,  in  search  of 
information  closely  concerning  her  brood, 
has  to  go  listening  at  the  door  of  the 
French  Legislative  Chamber. 

fiiisinexs  done,. — Education  Bill  passed 
through  Committee. 

Friday. — With  my  Parliamentary  papers 
from  KING  of  King  Street  comes  an  anony- 
mous shilling  pamphlet  entitled  The  Earl 
and  the  KnigJit.  Purports  to  be  passages 
from  a  Ministerial  Diary,  with  extracts  from 
a  political  correspondence.  The  only  iden- 
tity hidden  throughout  is  that  of  the  writer. 
For  the  rest  we  have  boldly  presented  Lord 
ROSEHERY  and  his  colleagues  in  the  Ad- 
ministration he  formed  in  March,  1804, 
to  see  it  blown  to  pieces  by  cordite  in  the 
summer  of  the  following  year.  A  hapless 
infant 

Called  henoe  by  early  doom, 
Came  but  to  show  how  sweet  a  flower 
In  Paradice  might  Moom. 

The  skit,  amusing  to  those  not  mentioned 
in  its  pages,  is  cleverly  done.  Evidently 
from  an  inside  point  of  view.  Of  course 
Lord  ROSEBERY  and  SQUIRE  OF  MALWOOD 
would  not  think  of  each  other  as  they  are 
here  represented  ;  much  less  would  they  so 
speak.  If  they  did,  their  potential  manner 
of  saying  things  is  admirably  caught. 


SARK,  guessing  at  the  identity  of  the 
writer,  says  the  clever  little  joke  is  of 
the  sort  GEORGE  RUSSELL  might  work 
off  if  he  had  in  his  nature  even  a  spice  of 
acrimony.  The  thing  is  decidedly  acrimo- 
nious, so  that  guess  is  ruled  out.  Besides, 
GEORGE  RUSSELL  is  himself  spoken  of  as 
disrespectfully  as  if  he  were  the  Equator. 
Whoever  the  author  be,  he  knows  the  ropes, 
who  pulls  them,  and  how. 

Ttusiness  done. — Navy  Votes  by  hands- 
full. 


HEE  OTHER  PARTNER. 

OF  all  the  pretty  girls  around 

She  has  the  fairest  form  and  face  ; 

I  have  invariably  found, 

At  any  dance,  that  is  the  case. 

I  don't  care  what  your  taste  may  be, 

She  is  the  prettiest  to  me. 

Moreover  there  is  in  her  glance 

A  something,  which  I  fancy  states 

My  feelings  towards  her — lucky  chance  ! — 
She  more  or  less  reciprocates. 

Don't  contradict  me,  I  must  know 

What  sweetly  smiling  somethings  show. 

And  see  how  willingly  she  hands 

Her  programme,  so  that  I  may  choose 

Which  dance  I  like.     One  understands; 
This  is  a  chance  one  must  not  lose. 

It  is  as  plain  as  plain  can  be, 

She  is  not  plain,  and  fancies  me. 

It  seems,  however,  somewhat  strange. 

There  are  not  many  dances  left ; 
My  ioyful  feelings  rather  change, 

Alas,  of  what  am  I  bereft ! 
And  half  of  them  have  gone  to  "C." 
I'm  hanged!     Why,  who  the  deuce  is  he? 

Perhaps  her  brother?     Hardly  so. 

Perhaps  her  cousin?     Still  some  doubt. 
I  must  immediately  know  ; 

I  can't  ask  her  to  help  me  out. 
I  take  some  dances,  three  or  more  ; 
She  smiles  as  sweetly  as  before. 

Her  smile !     That  quite  enchanting  smile 
I  fancied  meant  she  fancied  me. 

I  still  believe  she  does,  meanwhile 
I  wonder  wildly  who  is  "C." 

Rome  passing  fancy,  girlish  whim 

May  make  her  also  smile  at  him. 

If  not  her  relative,  why  then 

How  dare  he  write  just  "C.,"  and  claim 
What  is  denied  to  other  men, 

That  she  must  u=e  his  Christian  name  ? 
While. I  put  "A.  B.  B."  in  full, 
For  Alexander  Bismarck  Bull. 

And  yet  her  smiles,  could  they  deceive, 
Those  looks  I  thought,  so  sweetly  shy  ? 

Here  's  Jones,  I  'II  ask  him  ;  I  believe 
He  knows  her  people  more  than  I. 

"Who's  C.?     Why,  Bull.  I  should  infer 

That 's  Charley  Smith,  quite  gone  on  her." 


Cautious  Criticism  at  Putney. 

Intelligent  Waterman  (to  Inqnixitiie 
Stranger).  Vou  wants  to  know  which  I 
think  *11  win  ? 

Inquisitive  Stranger.  Yes;  and  I  hear 
you  're  a  pood  judge. 

I.  W.  That  I  oughter  be.  But  mny  I 
ax  if  you  belongs  to  Hoxford  or  Cam- 
bridge*? 

I.  S.  Neither ;  but  I  take  a  great  inte- 
rest in  the  race. 

I.  W.  (slowly).  Well,  then  it's  my  hopi- 
nion  there  's  hevery  likeli'ood  of  another 
dead  'eat. 


A  PII 1 1.  3,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


157 


Farmer  (to  Labourer,  wlu>  is  takiiig  it  very  easy).  "  Hi !    JAKOB  !    You  CAN  LBAN  ON  THAT 
SPADE.     I  'LL  RISK  IT  BKEAKIN'  I  " 


SPOKTIVE  SONGS. 

An  Unhappy  Yovth,  with,  trptrtationt,  having 
b<en  banished  by  hit  DomuteFi  itaihtr  from 
the  family  mansion,  draws  a  rimilefrom  the 
Almond-  Tree. 

PINK  L>  the  almond-bloom  to-day, 
Making  the  leafless  garden  gay 

With  daintiness  of  flowers, 
lief  ore  the  buds  are  fully  met, 
Before  the  leaves  are  even  set, 

By  sunshine  and  by  showers. 
Pink  in  the  almond-tree  above, 
The  early  promise  of  that  love 

In  Eden  first  created, 
•^hooting  its  glory  to  the  skies 
In  rosy  wreaths  of  Paradise, 

For  once  regenerated. 
Pink  is  the  almond-branch  ;  it  tells, 
In  little  peals  of  long-drawn  bells, 

Of  coming  summer  glory ! 
And  bidding  us  forget  our  grief, 
Since  it  can  live  without  a  leaf, 

To  wait  our  future  story. 
Pink  is  the  almond !    Just  suppose 
Our  life,  like  it,  coulevr  de  rose! 

(I  only  say  "Suppose  it.") 
You  know  the  kind  of  life  I  mean, 
When  even  almond-trees  are  green, 

And  need  not  diagnose  it! 
Pink  is  the  almond-bloom !    And  you 
Are  pink  of  all  perfection  true, 

Despite  your  cruel  mater. 
And  so  I  pray  you  to  reflect 
On  what,  one  day,  I  may  expect. — 

Like  almonds,  'twill  come  later  I 


you 


At  the  Pioneer  Club. 

Mr*.   A.   (to  Mrs.   B.).  Which  do 
favour,  Oxford  or  Cambridge  ? 

Mrs.  B.  That's  where  I'm  puzzled. 
TOM  was  at  Merton,  but  Aunt  JANE  was  at 
Girton. 


RESERVED  FOR  ADVERTISEMENTS. 

DIAMOND  PROCESSION.— An  excellently  situated  Chimney 
Top  (with  every  recent  improvement)  on  the  line  of  route. 
Ample  accommodation  for  Six  PERSONS  or  (with  a  little  crowding) 
SIXTY.  Luncheon  can  be  served  (by  arrangement)  under  cover 
in  the  space  between  the  fifth  and  sixth  floors.  Price,  cash  down, 
£200. 

THE  MARCH  OF  THE  CENTURY.— A  really  splendid 
panoramic  view  of  the  most  interesting  event  of  all  time. 
A  lofty  pole  (with  real  rope  ladder)  only  a  thousand  yards  from 
thn  nearest  point.  Telescopes  12s.  6</.  an  hour.  Glimpses  of 
Windsor  Castle,  the  Tower,  the  Crystal  Palace,  and  the  Beculvers 
thrown  in.  Entrance  conveniently  situated  away  from  the  mad- 
ding crowd.  A  few  places  still  to  let.  Twenty  guineas  a  person. 


COIGNS   OF  VANTAGE  FOR   THE  SELECT.— A  roomy 
Cupboard  on  the  direct  line  of  route.     Lectures  on  the  pass- 
ing pageant  every  five  minutes.     A  boon  for  the  blind.     Price 
(with  spare  shelf  for  refreshment)  Five  guineas  a  seat. 

A  PERFECT  POSITION,  commanding  a  view  of  the  Proces- 
sion from  START  TO  FINISH.  A  party  of  twelve  at  £100 
apiece.  Persons  weighing  more  than  thirteen  stone,  a  guinea  a 
pound  extra.  Conveniently-sized  luncheon-baskets  (fowl,  bread, 
salt,  and  half  a  bottle  of  medoc)  at  thirty  shillings  apiece.  The 
balloon  (which  will  leave  Battersca  at  10  A.M.)  will  be  under  the 
superintendence  of  an  experienced  apprentice  to  a  gas-fitter. 

rnHE  NEVER-TO-BE-FORGOTTEN  OCCASION.  —  Five 
_L  hundred  comfortable  easy-chairs,  in  a  most  convenient  spot 
within  the  influence  of  the  entire  line  of  route.  The  company 
will  be  guaranteed  a  vivid  impression  of  the  minutest  detail  of  all 
connected  with  the  Diamond  Celebration.  The  start  from  Buck- 
ingham Palace,  the  progress  through  the  Strand  and  Fleet  Street, 


and  the  ceremony  at  St.  Paul's.  To  conclude  with  the  immense 
enthusiasm  of  the  return.  Prices  from  £1  1«.  to  £oOO,  to  suit 
every  pocket.  The  hypnotic  seance  will  commence  at  eleven 
o'clock.  For  further  particulars  write  to  "  Professor,"  Post 
Office,  Tooting.  


rnHE  FINEST  VIEW  OF  THE  DAY.— A  real  genuine  in- 
JL  spection  of  the  Procession  as  it  passes  London  Bridge.  A 
beautifully  decorated  coal  barge  will  be  moored  in  the  best^part 
of  the  river.  Only  room  for  three  hundred.  Tickets  Eight 
guineas  apiece.  Camp-stools  ten  shillings  extra.  Passengers 
are  recommended  (so  that  they  may  comply  with  the  regulations 
of  the  Thames  Conservancy)  to  bring  their  own  life-bolts. 


mHE  GRANDEST  SITE  FOR  THE  ILLUMINATIONS.— 
_L  Professor  SALAMANDER  (of  the  principal  Continental  Gar- 
dens) has  organised  an  excursion  from  Kensington  to  pass  over 
the  chief  streets  in  the  West  End  on  the  night  of  June  22.  Every 
passenger  will  be  supplied  with  a  stick  with  parachute  attached. 
Fare  (payable  in  advance)  Five  guineas.  The  flight  of  rocketa 
will  start  at  10  P.M.  precisely. 

SEATS  OPPOSITE  ST.  I'ATL'S  AT  SIXPENCE  A  DOZEN- 
—The  best  places  in  St.  James's  Street,  Pall  Mall,  and  Up- 
ham  Park  Road,  Chiswick,  at  fourpence  each.  Visitors  will  be 
supplied  with  a  champagne  luncheon  and  a  free  passage  to  the 
colonies.  For  further  particulars  apply  to  MILLIONAIRE  OFFIB- 
HEDD,  Esq.,  care  of  the  Superintendent,  The  Retreat,  Colwell 
Hantchney. 

"THB  ARTON  affair."  said  the  Times  correspondent,  "is  still 
enveloped  in  mystery.*'  The  French  magistrate  obtained  papers 
from  London  relating  to  the  Panama  bribes,  which  were  exa- 
mined in  ARTON'S  presence.  Why  did  not  ARTON  keep  cut  of 
the  way  ?  Those  implicated  should  have  acted  on  the  old  adage, 
"Arsest  cdare  Arton." 


VOL.  cxi  i. 


158 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  3,  1897. 


3,   1897.] 


PUNCH,  MI:  TIII-: 


;«  n.\i;iv.\i;i. 


159 


r 

/ 


"SOCKER"    ON    THE    BRAIN. 

"  SMART  SORT  THAT  ON  THE  BIOHT— FORWARD." 


Harry. 

Tom  (a  devcted  "fooler"). 


'RIGHT  FORWARD?    OH!  NO  GOOD  FORWARD;  BUT  LOOKS  LIKE  MAKING  A  FAIB  'HALF-BACK'!" 


TALK  FOR  THE  THAMES. 

(Suggested  by  recent  revelations  of  {lie  financial  condition  of  a  popular 
Steamboat  Company.) 

IT  must  be  pleasant  to  be  a  man  in  possession  between  Batter- 
sea  and  Vauxhall  when  the  sun  is  shining  and  the  trees  are 
coming  out  in  leaf. 

But  the  occupation  must  be  monotonous,  unless  it  be  broken 
by  the  occasional  fiduciary  leceipt  of  a  County  Court  summons. 

Does  it  not  seem  cruel  to  leave  that  portly  gentleman  on  the 
pier  at  Pimlico  when  he  is  evidently  anxious  to  get  to  Lnrobeth 
as  soon  as  the  boat  will  take  him  ? 

?M,  it  does  appear  to  be  slightly  inconsiderate,  but  aa  the 
charge  for  his  embarkation  would  not  cover  the  price  of  his  fare 
tin'  .seeming  iiiikindiu-ss  is  merely  a  matter  of  business. 

But  surely  his  tears  are  worthy  of  consideration  ? 

No  doubt,  from  a  benevolent  point  of  view,  but  charity  com- 
mences in  the  home  of  the  shareholders. 

Would  it  not  be  appropriate  to  change  the  present  names  of 
the  fleet  to  The  IFrif,  Tlie  Application  at  Chambers,  and  titles 
of  a  similar  diameter  ? 

It  would  assuredly  be  a  suitable  alteration,  but  the  Court 
would  not  In'  likely  to  sanction  the  cost  of  the  paint  necessary 
for  carrying  the  idea  into  execution. 

Is  not  the  course  we  are  taking  a  little  erratic? 

It  would  seem  so  to  a  non-nautical  eye,  but  the  regulations  are 
averse  to  any  conversation  with  the  man  at  the  wheel. 

Do  you  not  know  the  steersman  in  his  private  capacity  P 

I  have  not  the  pleasure  of  his  acquaintance,  but  I  should  not 
be  surprised  to  learn  that  he  was  that  praiseworthy  representative 
of  the  law,  the  OfhVial  Receiver. 

Could  not  the  London  County  Council  intervene  to  the  ad- 
vantage of  the  metropolitan  public? 

Such  a  surest  ion  nas  already  been  made,  but  the  L.  C.  C. 
have  a  project  on  hand  of  far  greater  importance. 

Then  the  river  traffic  must  wait? 

Ye>,  until  the  represent  at  ives  of  the  Capital  of  the  World  have 
spent  a  few  millions  iii  erecting  a  palace  for  their  personal  con- 
venience. 


QUESTIONS  THAT  SHOULD  NEVKli  BE  ASKED. 

Of  a  Gardener. — "  Do  you  find  watering  the  plants  very  mono- 
tonous?" 

Of  a  Hero. — "  Isn't  it  awfully  nice  to  be  as  brave  as  that  ?  " 

Of  a  Humorist. — "  Do  you  think  of  these  things  beforehand, 
or  at  the  time  ?  " 

Of  a  Hostess. — "  How  large,  now,  should  you  say  your  rooms 
are  f  " 

Of  an  Innkeeper. — "What  made  you  think  of  keeping  this  inn 
rather  than  any  other  ?  " 

Of  a  Judge. — "  How  do  you  guess  whether  people  are  guilty 
or  innocent  ?  I  always  think  it  so  clever  of  you  1 " 

Of  a  Liar. — "  Do  tell  me  whether  you  are  joking  or  sorious? 
I  never  know  I  " 

Of  a  Milliner. — "Are  hats  worn  on.  the  head  this  season, 
or  off?" 

Of  an  Omnibus-driver. — "  How  is  it  you  never  lose  your  way  ?  " 

Of  a  Policeman.—"  Don't  you  find  the  traffic  rather  a 
nuisance  ?  " 

Of  a  Queen. — "  How  is  it  you  dou't  get  tired  of  reigning  so  long 
over  one  country  ?  " 

Of  a  Hoeing  Man. — "Do  you  generally  find,  now,  that  the 
winners  come  in  first  ?  " 

Of  a  Sailor. — "Are  you  a  good  sailor?  " 

Of  a  Taxidermist. — "Don't  you  often  wish  that  animals  were 
born  stuffed?" 

Of  a  Wheelwright. — "  Am  I  right  in  supposing  that  wheels 
are  not  nearly  so  round  as  they  appear  to  us,  when  in  motion  ?  " 

Of  a  Youngster. — "  Well,  little  man,  and  what  do  you  learn  at 
«l-"ol?" 

Of  a  Zoologist. — "Which  do  you  prefer,  emus  or  alligators? 
Or  have  you  no  choice  ?  " 

IT  was  recently  stated  that  ''  Three  hundred  monks  from  Mount 
Athos  have  offered  their  services  to  the  Greek  Government."  Do 
their  services  mean  their  religious  "services"?  These  are  pro- 
bably included,  but  be  this  as  it  may,  this  bellicose  body  offers 
a  practical  illustration  of  "The  Church  Militant." 


160 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[Arim,  3,  1397. 


Our  Painter's    Wife^to  Friend  who  has  called  on  "i'Aow  Sunday"). 

"  GOOD-BYE  !    I  'M  AF'RAID  YOU  HAVE  SCARCELY  SEEN  THE  PICTURES." 

Friend.  "  GOOD-BYE,  DEAR  MRS.  GILP  !    So  SOKRY  I  HAVE  so  FEW 

MOMENTS.      I   MUST   HOPE    TO    SEE    YOUR    HUSBAND'S    PICTURES   HERE 
WHEN   I   CALL  AGAIN   IN   A   WEEK   OR  SO  !  " 


THE    WOTHERSPOONS. 

A  STORY  IN  SCENES. 
VI. 

SCENE — The  Drawing-room  ;  immediately  after  FRITZ'S  introduction 
to  MERCY. 

Spencer.  So  this  Lord  COLESHAFTS  is  a  friend  of  yours,  too,  eh, 
MERCY  ? 

Henrietta  (hastily).  I  don't  think  MERCY  quite  said  that — did 
you,  my  dear? 

Mercy.  Oh,  I  don't  suppose  I  saw  so  much  of  him  as  Baron 
( ;  i  III.KK  did,  but  our  place  was  quite  close  to  Borings,  and  my 
poor  Papa,  who  was  a  gentleman-farmer,  you  know,  used  to  go 
out  shooting  a  good  deal  with  his  lordship.  Very  likely  you  've 
met  him  at  one  of  the  big  shoots,  Baron.  I  daresay  they  often 
asked  you  down? 

Fritz.  I  do  not  think  I  haf  seen  your  Papa  out  shooding.  Anc 
— if  you  blriiso- — I  'haf  not  the  honour  to  be  a  Baron,  only  a  simble 
Schviss  shendleman. 

Mercy.  Only  that?  And  when  I  was  thinking  ,1  was  going 
to  have  a  real  live  Baron  for  a  brother-in-law  1  Well,  if  you  never 
met  Papa,  you  may  have  heard  of  me  from  dear  Lady  POPPY  and 
Lady  BETTY.  They  were  tremendous  pals  of  mine. 

Henr.  (to  herself).  She 's  going  too  far.  FRITZ  is  certain  to  find 
her  out  if  she  doesn't  take  care  I 

Fritz.  Ach,  so  you  are  the  so  charming  liddle  MSRCY  that  Laty 
BOPPY  and  Laty  PETTY  alvays  rafe  apout  to  me  ?  What  a  guri- 
ous  goincidence  we  meed  hier  at  last  I 

Mercy.  Isn't  it?  It's  funny;  but  I  felt  somehow  from  the 
first  that  we  should  get  on  together. 

Henr.  (to  herself).  She  must  be  all  right,  or  FRITZ  wouldn't — 
I  'm  afraid  I  Ve  been  a  little  uncharitable. 

Spen.  (to  himself).  So  like  my  modest  little  MERCY  to  say 
nothing  about  these  grand  friends  of  hers !  Well,  this  fellow 
VON  GUBLER  seems  to  have  given  a  correct  account  of  himself, 
which  is  so  far  satisfactory.  (Aloud.)  So  you  know  all  about 
one  another  already  ?  Capital !  And  here  comes  MARIA  to  tell 


is  dinner  is  on  the  table.     Vox  GUBLER,  will  you  take  ETTA  ? 

MERCY,  my  darling —  [They  go  down. 

AT  THE  DINNER-TABLE. 

Mercy  (to  lierself).  Ons  would  almost  think  from  the  way  he's 
?oing  on  that  FRITZ  was  really  spoony — with  a  dowdy  old  thing 
ike  that!  Well,  I'm  sure  she's  welcome  to  him!  (Aloud.) 
ETTA,  my  dear,  you  and  Mr.  VON  GUBLER  seem  to  be  having  a 
very  interesting  conversation  over  there — but  don't  mind  us, 
we  're  too  taken  up  with  one  another  to  listen,  aren't  we,  SPEN- 
CER darling? 

Fritz  (to  himself).  Can  she  truly  adore  the  elderly  SPENCER! 
(Aloud.)  Ach,  Miss  MARIOOLT,  the  twidder  of  the  loaf  pirts  nefer 
disturp  the  gooings  of  the  turdle-duffs ! 

Spen.  (to  himself,  vexed).  They  might  remember  MARIA  is  in 
;he  room  I  (Aloud.)  MERCY,  let  me  give  you  a  little  more 
gravy. 

Maria  (in  his  ear).  There  you  go  again,  Mr.  SPENCER;  no  one 
would  think,  to  look  at  it,  that  table-cloth  was  clean  on  this 
evening  1 

Spen.  (nervously).  Dear  me,  dear  me,  very  careless  of  me, 
MARIA.  1 — I  don't  know  what 's  come  to  me  to-night. 

Maria.  I  'm  sure  I  don't,  Sir.  And  there 's  Miss  HEN- 
RIETTA 's  spilt  her  claret  now.  Don't  you  do  nothing,  Miss,  you  '11 
only  make  it  worse.  Leave  it  to  me,  do. 

[She  applies  remedies  with  a  severe  forbearance  which  abashes 

the  offending  pair. 

Mercy.  This  wouldn't  be  at  all  a  bad  little  place,  SPENCER,  if  it 
was  only  thoroughly  done  up,  and  all  this  rubbishy  old  furniture 
got  rid  of. 

Spen.  We  are  rather  attached  to  our  old  furniture,  my  dear. 
It  came  down  to  us  from  our  great  grandfather. 

Mercy.  Well,  Z  like  something  more  in  the  fashion.     There  are 

beautiful  things  in  Tottenham  Court  Road,  all  the  latest  styles. 

You  '11  let  me  refurnish  in  my  taste,  won't  you.  SPENCER  darling  ? 

Spen.  (troubled).  My  dear  child,  I'm  afraid  you  must  put  up 

with  tilings  as  they  are.     I  can't  possibly  afford ,  and  I  'm 

quite  sure  that  KTTA  would  never 

Mercy.  ETTA,  why,  what  has  slie  got  to  do  with  it  ?  She  '11 
have  her  own  house,  won't  she  ? 

Spen.  Why,  we — we  rather  thought,  you  see,  that,  as  this 
house  belongs  to  ETTA  and  me,  and  we  're  neither  or  us  well 
enough  off  to — to  make  a  move  without  inconvenience,  we  might 
try  tne  experiment  of — of  a  joint  household,  all  four  of  us  to- 
gether, you  know. 

Mercy.  Oh,  that  will  be  nice!     (To  herself.)     No,  we  don't, 

not  if  I  can  help  it !     (Aloud.)     ETTA,  SPENCER 's  just  been  telling 

me  that  we  're  all  four  to  live  in  this  dear  little  house  together. 

Won't  that  be  delightful,  Mr.  VON  GUJILER  ? 

Fritz  (to  himself).  \Vith  the  old  SPENCER  it  would    be    bad 

enough,  but  with  her  also !     (Aloud.)     I  think  we  make  to- 

getter  a  fery  habby  family — berhaps. 

[He  becomes  silent  and  moody. 

Maria  (to  herself).  Well,  Master  and  Miss  HENRIETTA  have 
made  a  pair  o'  fools  o'  themselves !  I  don't  know  what  cook  '11 
say  to  it  all  when  she  hears.  I  'm  not  going  to  stay  in  the  house 
with  that  little  'ussy ! 

Mercy  (at  dessert).  I  must  say,  ETTA,  my  dear,  I  rather  wonder 
that  that  parlour-maid  of  yours  hasn't  learnt  by  this  time  that 
it 's  very  bad  style  to  knock  at  a  sitting-room  door.  It 's  never 
done  anywhere  now,  you  know  ! 

Spen.  Why,  my  dear,  we  have  thought  we'd  mention  it,  but 
we  're  rather  afraid  it  might  hurt  her  feelings. 

Mercy.  What  nonsense,  SPENCER  !  She  can't  have  any  feelings 
or  she  wouldn't  wear  a  cap  like  that  I  How  you  can  put  up  with 
such  an  old  fright  at  all —  We  really  must  have  a  smart,  nice- 
looking  girl  to  wait  at  table.  Don't  you  think  so,  Mr.  VON 
GUBLER? 

Henr.  My  dear,  nothing  would  induce  me  to  part  with  MARIA 
after  all  the  years  she  has  been  with  us. 

Mercy.  Oh,  if  she  came  down  to  you  from  your  great  grand- 
father— with  the  furniture!  Still,  I  must  say  I  prefer  having 
young  and  nice-looking  faces  about  me  myself.  Some  people 
don't,  I  know,  and  very  likely  they  have  their  reasons.  Perhaps 
if  you  asked  Mr.  VON  GUBLER  his  opinion — 

Fritz.  My  obinion  is.  that  yong,  goot-looking  curls  are 
taincherous,  deceedful  liddle  tevils ! 

Mercy.  Gracious,  that  is  strong  language !     I  hope  you  're  not 


speaking  from  experience  ? 
Fritz.  I  was  thinking  of 


a  gase  •  my  frient  GOLESHAFTS'  eldest 
son  ;  the  liddle  Lort  PITSMOUTH.  You  know  him,  berhaps? 

Mercy.  Let  me  see.     Is  that  the  one  who  was  up  at  college  ? 

Fritz.  At  gollege,  yes.     A  derrible  yong  fool. 

Spen.  (interested).  Ah,  and  he  got  into  some  entanglement  up 
there,  eh  ?  I  never  was  at  a  University  myself,  but  I  Ve  been 
told 


APKII.  3,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CH.MMV.MM. 


161 


I nt:.  It  wasat  homo  he  god  eudaiigled .  Thore  was a  liddlecurl, 
daughter  of  one  of  his  father's  koeberu,  who  Lad  been  taken  op 
uiul  betted  und  sboiled  by  tin-  yong  latie.i,  und  she  vil  her  gap 
at  the  boor  yong  lort,  and  veudle  aud  voedle  till  ho  is  retty  to 
marry  her. 

..Vpt/i.  Tut-tut.     The  young  idiot  I     And  did  he  actually — 

/  i  it:..  No.  Yust  in  dun.-  hia  father  lind  out,  quide  by  agai- 
dent ,  und  back  him  oil'  to  dravel  round  the  vorlt. 

M fir ii.  I  iviiH-mlier  hearing  something  about  it  now.  Wasn't 
tin  re'  Mime  lieu  i  nl  wretch  of  a  valet,  Air.  VON  GULII.KK,  who  was 
taki'ii  into  pmir  Lord  PITSMOUTH'S  confidence  aud  went  and  be- 
I  r.ueil  linn  '( 

1 1  i'n  r.  liow  dreadfully  uieau  of  him  I 

Jfritt.  Harilon,  but  Miss  MAIUOOLT  gif  a  todally  false  imbres- 
sion.  1  hub  be  n  to  know  that  the  valet — a  very  goof,  resbectable 
fellow — did  only  ILLS  dudy.  Pesidea,  he  was  himself  keebing  goin- 
bany  with  tho  curl,  and  when  he  disgover  she  deceif  him — why, 
nudgurally 

.SI«'H.  Uell;  it  was  a  lucky  escape  for  young  Lord  PITSMOUTH. 
Did  she  sue  him  for  breach  of  promise  ? 

Mercy.  She  would  have  scorned  to  lower  herself — according  to 
what  1  heard. 

I  i  it:.  1  think  she  would  haf  dried,  only  she  haf  no  efideuce, 
and  her  father,  a  goot,  sensible  man,  who  did  nut  vi-.h  to  lose 
Ins  biace,  bersuade  her  to  sign  a  liddle  baper,  which  he  gif  his 
lortshib,  and  tind  a  siduation  tor  his  daughter,  where  she  make  no 
more  drouble,  and  nopotty  inderfere  with  her — if  she  ia  defer 
enough  to  shud  her  liddle  mouth. 

,^L)«;I.  Poor  girl !  and  now  she 's  lost  both  the  lord  and  the 
valet,  eh? 

Mercy.  Well,  the  valet  wasn't  much  loss!  She's  better  off  as 
she  is — in  my  opinion. 

.Fritz.  Much  pedder,  and  the  valet  also. 

Spen.  Well,  they  may  come  across  one  another  again  some- 
day and  make  it  up — who  know*  I" 

ll/  nr.  After  all,  it  is  no  concern  of  ours,  is  it?  MJUICY,  my 
il>'ar,  shall  we  go  into  the  drawing-room? 

Mercy  (tu  lierself).  And  leave  SPBNCEH  alone  with  that  double- 
faced  beast.  Not  me  I  (Moud.)  Oh,  mutt  1  go  away,  SPBNCEB? 
when  I've  got  such  lots  of  things  to  talk  about.  Mayn't  I  stay 
a  little  longer.  1  'II  be  so  good  I 

Fritz  (to  himself).  Impossible  to  trust  that  she-demon  with 
HKNKIKTIK!  (Aloud.)  Ach,  mine  HKNHIETTK,  do  not  desert 
your  FRITZ  on  this  tirst  night.  Sit  yed  a  liddle.  A  vort  in  your 
ear.  (In  a,  whisper.)  I  dell  you  soindings :  gondrol  your  face, 
and  schuiile  bleasantly.  If  you  loaf  me,  ged  rid  of  this  liddle 
MEKUY.  She  must  not  marry  our  goot  SBBNCEB.  She  is  herself 
the  keeber's  daughter  I 

Mi  icy  (to  Iterself).  It  drives  me  wild  to  see  him  whispering  in 
her  ear  like  that  1  But  1  '11  put  a  spoke  in  his  wheel,  whatever 
comes  of  it.  (In  an  undertone.)  SPENCEK  dear,  I — I  mutt  tell 
you.  1  've  been  trying  to  hint  to  poor,  dear  ETTA,  only  she 
won't  understand.  That  valet,  he  was  a  Swiss — and — and  well, 
if  you  can  put  up  with  him  as  a  brother-in-law,  I  can't,  so  there  I 
Find  a  way  of  sending  him  about  his  business  without  a  fuss. 
And  for  goodness'  sake,  don't  look  like  that — or  he  'll  suspect 
something  t 

[SPENCER  and  HENRIETTA  sit  speechless,  each  overwhelmed  by 
pity  for  the  other,  and  the  extreme  difficulty  and  delicacy 
of  the  situation. 

VARIETY  IS  CHARMING. 

ONE  of  the  many  attractions  at  the  Palace  Theatre  of  Varieties 
is  The  American  Viooraph,  of  which  moving  pictorial  series 
that  representing  the  horses  being  rushed  away  from  the  burn- 
ing staoles  is  far  and  away  the  best  specimen.  These  Bio- 
graphic pictures  are  unsteady  ;  only  of  course  this  is  an  opinion 
rather  dangerous  to  express  in  the  presence  of  any  malicious 
friend  who  smilingly  inquires,  "Hallo I  where  have  you  been 
dining  ?  "  It  is  as  well  to  be  prepared  for  this,  and  to  choose 
your  audience,  or  keep  your  opinion  to  yourself.  However,  "all 
the  other  gentlemen  noticed  the  pictures  were  shaky,"  and 
that  was  a  consoling  thought.  The  French  dancing  and 
singing  quartette  is  full  of  me,  and  the  fact  that  these  per- 
formers, us  well  as  the  dancing  and  acting  dolls  in  the  automatic 
theatre  (which  is  a  special  attraction  in  itself),  all  sing  in 
French,  and  that  their  hits  in  this  language  are  most  intelli- 
gently applauded,  shows  how  wonderfully  the  education  of  the 
masses,  as  well  as  of  the  classes,  has  improved  within  the  last  few 
\e.us  in  Knuland.  CiiARLKs  MORTON  is  to  be  congratulated; 
only,  let  him  give  a  hint  to  the  American  Biographical  exhibi- 
tor, advising  him  that  the  mot  d'ordre  must  be  "Steady,  boys, 
steady ! " 


LC 


MR.  CYCLAMEN  is  GLAD  TO  HEAR  THAT  THE  KVIIUZZLINO  ORDER 

CEASES   TO   BE   IN   FORCE  AFTER   APRIL   OTII. 


THE  PURPLE  WEST. 

["  The  fashionable  colour  thi«  season  is  to  be  Royal  Purple  in  honour  of  the 
Diamond  Jubilee."— faihion  Paptri.] 

FASHION'S  ways  are  very  queer, 

Some  new  colour  every  year 
Becomes  the  Season's  rage  at  her  imperious  behest — 

And  this  year  the  colour  naw 

Is  to  be  the  Royal  hue. 
For  all  the  "Fashion  Columns''  have  foretold  a  Purple  \Ve»t. 

Not  mine  the  muse  who  sings 

All  the  fashionable  "  things." 
The  lovely  gowns  and  frocks,  in  which  the  ladies  will  be  dressed — 

I  endeavour  but  to  scan 
.The  effect  upon  the  man, 
Whom  duty  or  whom  pleasure  calls  to  don  a  Purple  West. 

'Tis  the  colour  which  will  dye 

Matutinal  scarf  and  tie. 
Even  "staining  the  white  radiance  "  of  the  yespertinal  Yt*t ; 

And  light-fingered  gutter-snipes 

Will  prig  only  purple  "  wipes. 
As  they  ply  their  gentle  calling  up  and  down  the  Purple  We«t. 

Some  touch  of  purple  hue 

Everywhere  will  meet  the  view — 
It  will  decorate  our  faces  as  we  jostle  with  a  zest, 

When  the  crowds  pour  forth  this  year 

In  all  lovalty  to  cheer 
Our  gracious  Queen  of  sixty  years  throughout  the  Purple  W  est 

But  some  things  are  better — much — 

Without  any  "  purple  touch," 
If  it  colours,  for  example,  both  the  jester  and  the  jest. 

And  our  novel  and  our  play 

Will  not  harmonize,  we  pray, 
With  the  general  scheme  of  colour  for  this  season  in  the  West  I 


CALLED  TO  THE  "  BA."— The  shepherd's  dog. 


162 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  3,  1897. 


"IT'S  A  WISE  CHILD  THAT  KNOWS  ITS  OWN  FATHEB.' 


Grace.   ' 
Harold. 


HAROLD,  WHY  DID  PA  CALL  THAT  MR.  BLOWHARD  A  LIAR?" 
"  'COS  HE  's  SMALLER  THAN  PA  !  " 


MOEE  MANNERS  FOR  MEN. 

In  a  Carriage. — If  more  than  six  ladies 
are  going  in  one  brougham — which  must 
not  be  pronounced  "  bruffum " — the  gen- 
tleman should  offer  to  follow  in  a  cab.  If 
they  insist  on  his  entering  with  them,  he 
must  stand  as  well  as  he  can.  In  such  a 
case  he  would  not  usually  smoke. 

In  a  Hansom. — If  three  men  ride  in  a 
hansom,  the  one  whose  ancestors  coming 
over  with  the  Conqueror  were  least  nu- 
merous sits  forward  in  the  middle.  But  if 
he  is  very  fat,  one  of  his  companions  may 
offer  to  take  his  place. 

In  or  on  an  Omnibus.- — This  is  a  posi- 
tion where  ordinary  courtesy  is  quite  in- 


sufficient, and  where  the  most  elaborate 
etiquette  prevails.  We  cannot  deal  with 
it  adequately  here,  and  must  refer  our 
readers  to  our  treatise,  in  six  volumes, 
entitled  Beaux  and  Bounders  in  Busses. 

On  Bikeback. — Never  ride  at  more  than 
thirty  miles  an  hour.  Never  touch  the 
handle  with  your  chin.  Never  try  to  run 
down  a  traction  engine  or  an  elephant. 

Games  and  Recreations.  —  Chess  and 
whist  are  very  useful,  but  very  difficult. 
Billiards,  backgammon,  and  baccarat  are 
quite  easy.  So  are  draughts  and  poker. 
They  are  all  played  impartially  in  the 
highest  circles.  Pitch  and  toss  and  mar- 
bles are  less  frequent. 

Rules  of  the  River  on  the  Road. — In  a 


flood  it  is  not  etiquette  to  otter  to  carry 
strange  ladies.  But  if  the  water  is  more 
than  six  inches  deep,  and  they  are  in  dan- 
ger of  drowning,  a  gentleman  may  rescue 
tnem  in  a.  punt  or  a  perambulator.  A 
motor-car  is  rarely  used.  Kven  then  it  is 
wiser  to  be  introduced  by  a  mutual  friend. 

Dinner  Parties. — It  is  not  now  usual  to 
wear  armour  at  the  dinner  table.  Nor  is 
it  customary  to  carve  with  one's  sword.  A 
young  man  should  avoid  anything  so  old- 
tashioned.  Breastplates  are  no  longer 
used,  but  soup  plates  are.  Ine  hat  should 
be  left  in  the  hall.  It  is  not  worn  in 
the  dining-room.  A  young  man  must  not 
expect  to  take  down  a  pretty  girl.  If 
his  conversation  and  behaviour  are  entirely 
regulated  by  this  manual,  a  lady  of  un- 
certain age,  stone  deaf  and  partially  blind, 
will  probably  fail  to  his  share.  He  must 
console  himself  by  practising  his  small 
talk  upon  ter.  Arrived  at  the  table,  he 
must  place  his  napkin  on  his  knees,  and 
not  tie-  it  round  his  neck.  He  must  hold 
his  knife  by  the  handle,  not  by  the  blade. 
Soup  is  not  eaten  with  a  knife.  If  the 
beginner  has  never  before  eaten  anything 
anywhere,  which  is  improbable,  he  can 
salely  eat  bread,  as  a  little  practice  will 
soon  show  him  how  to  divide  that.  It  is 
done  with  the  thumb  and  fingers,  which 
then  convey  to  the  mouth  a  piece  of  the 
correct  dimensions.  A  cubic  inch  is  a  safe 
size.  Until  he  can  estimate  this  correctly, 
the  beginner  would  do  well  to  carry  an 
inch  measure  in  his  pocket.  As  soon  as 
possible  he  should  learn  by  heart  the  pro- 
per way  to  consume  asparagus,  curry,  oy- 
sters, Gruyere,  nuts,  boiled  eggs,  haggis, 
grapes,  Neapolitan  ices,  Irish  stew,  treacle, 
pate  de  foie  gras,  melon,  bouillabaisse, 
Bath  buns,  birdsj'-nest  soup,  mutton  chops, 
canvas-back  duck,  sauerkraut,  polenta, 
&c.,  &c.  If  he  forgets  whether  the  under- 
cut of  roast  sirloin  of  beef  should  be  eaten 
with  an  egg-spoon  or  not,  he  will  wisely 
abstain  from  the  doubtful  dish. 

At  a  Ball. — If  you  can't  dance  at  all, 
don't.  If  you  can  dance  a  little,  avoid 
falling  down.  Even  if  you  know  her,  it  is 
better  not  to  address  your  partner  with 
such  a  phrase  as  "  Hullo,  here  you  are ! 
Come  along !  Look  sharp  I  " 

Dress. — This  a  most  important  sub- 
ject. Don't  wear  pumps  in  the  Park. 
Don't  wear  brown  boots  in  a  ball-room. 
Avoid  a  straw  hat  at  weddings.  Never 
wear  one  with  a  frock  coat.  Your  necktie 
can  be  any  colour  you  like.  So  can  your 
braces.  Shirt  collars  are  not  usually  purple. 
Nor  are  patent  shoes  pink.  The  correct 
evening  costume  is  black.  Green  is  not 
customary.  The  shirt  front,  according  to 
the  lady  novelist,  must  always  be  "  im- 
maculate." Instruct  your  laundress  ac- 
cordingly, and  explain  what  the  word 
means.  An  umbrella  is  not  generally  car- 
ried on  horseback.  It  is  unusual  to  play 
polo  in  an  Inverness  cape. 

Personal  Speech  with  Royalty. — If  the 
beginner  should  be  honoured  with  the 
friendship  of  the  QUEEN,  which  is  rather 
improbable,  he  must  speak  to  Her  Ma- 
jesty as  "  Ma'am."  But  he  need  not  give 
himself  much  trouble  to  learn  this  mode  of 
address,  as  it  is  unlikely  that  he  will  want 
to  use  it,  and  this  Manual  of  Manners,  at 
the  same  time. 


NOTE  BY  AN  OLD  AND  CRUEL  PHILOSO- 
PHER.— Tha  bread-and-butter  misses  of  my 
youth  appear  nowadays  to  be  represented 
by  les  belles  tartines. 


PUNCH,   Oil   THK    LONDON   CHAUI VAUI.— APKII.  3,   1897. 


SIM 


in 


CHANGE  OF   TREATMENT. 


Miss  EBIN.  "SHUEE,  YE  NEYEE  GAVE  ME  TEE  'BOYAL  OOMiMISSION  ELIXIR'  THAT  WAS  TO  DO 
ME  SO  MUCH  GOOD." 

ABTH-E  B-LF-B.  "  NO,  MY  DEAE,  THERE  WAS  SOME  MISTAKE  IN  THE  FIRST  PEESCRIPriO.V.  I  'LL 
MAKE  YOU  UP  ANOTHEE  DOSE ! ! " 


APRIL  3,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHAKIYAIM 


165 


SAUCE    FOR    THE    GOOSE 


SAUCE    FOR    THE    GANDER." 


"WHAT  COLOUR  DO  YOU  CALL  THAT  HOBSK,  COACHMAN  /"  "THAT'S  A  FLEA-BITTEN  GREY,  SIR." 

"DEAR  .ME!     RKAI.I.V  !    THIN  WHAT  CREATURE  HAS  BITTEN  THAT  ONE  IN  FRONT!" 


CLEAR  EVIDENCE. 
(At  feUy  Sessions  in  Ireland,.) 

Magistrate  (to  First  Prisoner).  What's 
your  iianu'  r 

Prisoner.  I  'm  one  PAT  MURPHY,  your 
Honour. 

Jiuyu.  Where  do  you  live  ? 

Pns.  Sure,  1  don't  live  anywhere,  Sorr. 

Mayis.  (to  Second  Prisoner).  W Hat's 
your  iuuuc  ;- 

Second  1'ris.  I'm  DEMS  MCCARTHY, 
Sorr. 

Magis.  Where  do  you  live  ? 

Second  Pris.  Begorra,  your  Honour,  1 
live  next  door  to  PAT  MUBPHY. 


A  Straight  Tip  for  the  Boat -Race. 

l.ioiiT  blue,  or  dark  I 

\Vhich  of  the  crews  shall  I  select, 

Light  blue,  or  dark '( 

"l'is  hard  to  choose,  I  would  remark ; 

but  then,  it  neither  I  reject, 

1  'm  sure  to  win  with,  1  expect, 

Light  blue,  or  dark. 

The  Voluntary  System. 

Idle  Apprentice  (reading  newspaper, 
looks  up  and  asks).  1  say,  what's  "volun- 
tary "  mean  ? 

Industrious  Apprentice.  Why,  it  means 
doin'  somethin'  of  your  own  accord,  with- 
out bein'  forced  to  do  it,  as  you  may 
say. 

Idle  Apprentice.  Oh!  then  wouldn't  I 
vote  for  Voluntary  Schools  just  I  I  'd  have 
not hiii'  but  Voluntary  Schools  everywhere  ! 
And  wouldn't  I  just  not  go  to  them! 
Rather! 


DARBY  JONES  ON  GAMBLING  AND 
THE  GRAND  NATIONAL. 

HONOURED  SIB,— -By  a  process  necessi- 
tating the  outlay  of  many  hundreds  of 
pounds,  one  RICHARD  DUNN  has  been  fined 
by  the  Kingston-on-Thames  magistrates 
the  magnificent  sum  of  Twenty  Shillings 
(without  costs)  in  the  interests  of 
Morality.  If  1  were  a  member  of  the 
Anti-Gambling  League,  I  think  I  should 
go  and  hang  myself.  The  absurdity  of  the 
whole  business  is  as  self-evident  as  the 
Shot  Tower  on  the  Surrey  side  of  the 
Thames.  We  know  the  Lords  and  Com- 
mons, who  go  racing,  and  we  must  be  as 
blind  as  the  snake  which  frequents  Hamp- 


THE  MOTO-GROWLIR. 


shire  hedges  not  to  recognise  the  eminent 
legislators  (including  judges)  who  plank 
down  their  "  lutle  bit "  on  uie  gee-gee  ot 
their  choice.  \Ve  also  know  the  Idle  Ap- 
prentice celebrated  by  Uie  immortal  \\  u.- 
I.IAM  HOOABTH.  He  is  not  the  child  of 
Mistortune,  but  ot  temptation ;  but  the 
temptation  is  not  begot  in  'lattersall's 
King,  but  in  the  street  by  means  of  the 
halt  -  penny  paper.  After  all,  there  is 
no  necessity  tor  going  to  Monte  Carlo, 
when  you  can  ganiole  lor  buttons  or  mar- 
bles in  the  gutter. 

I  was  not  tar  out  of  it,  honoured  Sir, 
over  the  Grand  National  Course.  The 
Uurang-outang  from  balmy  iioruuo  I  dis- 
carded as  easily  as  if  1  weie  playing  ecarte. 
But,  with  a  strong  sympathy  tor  Bed 
Cross,  1  gave  filbert  in  language  not  to  be 
mistaken  by  the  wise.  Tna  Seer  is  not 
often  out  of  the  first,  second,  or  third,  class 
compartment*. 

Trusting  that  you  are  as  salubrious  as 
the  March  dust  has  permitted, 

1  am,  Your  ever  devoted  heeler, 

DABBY  JONES. 


INTERNATIONAL. 
YES  t    Patriotism  is  a  splendid  thing, 

And  Humour  is  a  most  delightful  gift. 
But  whose  t    Here  harmony  at  once  takes 

wing, 

And  in  the  lute  of  love  is  found  a  rift. 
For  it  is  plain  to  every  candid  judge, 
And  tends  to  breed  a  hopeless  melan- 
choly, 

That  other  people's  patriotism 's  fudge, 
And  other  peoples  fun  funereal  folly  I 

TH«  BLACK  DIAMOND  JUBILEE.— The  drop 
in  the  price  of  coals. 


166 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  3,  1897. 


Tourist  (who  fas  just  given  Pat  a  drink  from  his  flask).  "THAT'S  A  DROP  OF  GOOD  AVais- 

KEY — EH,    PAT  ? 

Pat.  "FAITH,  YE  MAY  WKLL  SAY  THAT,  SOUR.     SHUEK,  IT  WJNT  DOWN  MY  TKOAT  LOIRE 
A  TORCHLIGHT  PROCESSION  ! " 


OUR  BOOKING-OITICE. 

Hilda  Straff  urd  (BLACKWOOD)  is  the  title 
that  covers  two  Oalifornian  stories  by 
BEATRICE  HABRADEN.  In  their  touches  ot 
life  on  the  ranche  they  recall  some  of  BEET 
HARTE'S  work — the  pathos  of  it,  not  the 
humour.  The  men  are  almost  idyllically 
good,  generous,  unselfish,  full  of  camara- 
derie. There  is  only  one  female  on  the 
scene,  and  Miss  HARRADEN,  who  knows  her 
sex,  has  made  her  serve  as  the  foil  for  the 
exceeding  goodness  of  man.  The  stories 
are  prettily  told.  But  what  my  Baronite 
chiefly  delights  in  is  the  framework  in 
which  they  are  set.  Turning  over  the 
pages  one  sniffs  the  pure  air  that  blows 
through  the  Californian  spring,  is  rested 
by  the  stretches  of  emerald  grass  that  cool 
and  cover  the  feet  of  the  mountains, 
scents  the  golden  violets,  the  wild  hya- 
cinths,' and  the  pale  lavender  in  the  shade. 

The  Young  Clanroy,  by  the  Rev.  COSMO 
GORDON  LANG  (SMITH,  ELDER),  is  a  stirring 
romance  of  the  '45.  The  author  discloses 
how  the  story  was  originally  told  to  a 
party  of  schoolboys  in  the  dusk  of  summer 
evenings.  The  published  edition  benefits 
from  this  origin  by  reason  of  the  simple, 
straightforward  style  of  narrative  indis- 
pensable to  such  circumstance.  A  wider 
circle  of  boys,  some  bearded,  even  grey- 
headed, will  welcome  the  opportunity  of 
sitting  at  the  feet  of  the  Dean  as  he  prat- 
tles about  Prince  CHARLIE  and  of  some 
who  worked  and  died  for  him. 

What  pleasant  memories  does  not  CLE- 
MENT SCOTT'S  little  book,  published  by 
LAWRENCE  GREENING,  entitled,  The  Wheel 
of  Life,  revive  !  "  Here  we  go  round,  round, 
round," — or,  rather,  "here  we  grow  round 
and  rounder,"  at  least,  some  of  us  do,  and 
are  not  quite  the  light-footed  youths  we 
were  in  days  of  yore,  but,  let  us  hope,  as 
light-hearted  now  as  then.  The  writer's 
memory  is  good,  his  style  easy,  and  above 
all,  which  is  the  great  thing  for  reminis- 
cences, chatty.  The  Baron  trusts  that  this 
little  book  contains  only  an  instalment  of 
what  he  is  subsequently  going  to  tell  us. 
Likewise,  should  our  friend  C.  S.  need  a 
refresher  or  two,  he  has  only  to  call  on  one 
who  will  be  most  willing  to  oblige  him, 
namely,  his  very  truly, 

THE  BARON  DE  B.-W. 


BIRDS    OF    A    "FEATHER."— The  Oxford 
and  Cambridge  crews. 


THE   RACE   IN  COMMON   FORM. 

(Sy  our  Reporter  in  advance.) 

NOTHING  could  have  been  than  the  sky  on  Saturday. 

-  was  much  in  evidence,  and  • were  seen  in  all  direc- 
tions warding  off  the of  the .  The  ladies'  costumes  were 

suited  to  the  occasion,  and  showed  that  their  judgment  was  not 
at  fault  in  assuming  that would  be  a  necessity. 

The  crowd  was .  In  years  gone  by  the  lack  of  enthusiasm 

has  been  noticeable,  but  on  Saturday  critics  declared  that  

was  certainly  the  order  of  the  day.  Of  course  this  was  distinctly 
attributable  to  the conduct  of  the  clerk  of  the  weather. 

The  Light  Blues,  as  the  challengers,  were  first  to  put  in  an  ap- 
pearance. They  were  quickly  followed  by  their  opponents.  It 

was  now  noticed  that had  won  the  toss,  and  consequently 

his  crew  took  their  position  on  the side  of  the  river.  After 

a  few  minutes'  pause  a  successful  start  was  made,  and  • — '-  imme- 
diately forged  ahead,  rowing strokes  to  the  minute.  But 

this  slight  advantage  was  soon  recovered  by  ,  and  at  - 

the  boats  were  nearly  equal.  The  race  continued  amidst  the  en- 
thusiasm of  the  spectators,  until  at the  lads  of  the Blue 

were  leading  by  about .  At  this  point  some  strange  steering 

by  the coxswain  gave  an  advantage  to  the ,  so  that  at 

—  the  position  was, 1  and 2.     Here  a  barge  floated 


on  to  the  direct  line  of  route  and  created  considerable  confusion. 
This  no  doubt  encouraged  —  —  to  make  a  spurt,  which  resulted 
in  the  two  crews  being  only yards  separated  when  they  ap- 
proached —  — .  • was  now  rowing  thirty-nine  to  the  minute, 

and  —   —  thirty-seven,  which,  however,  was  shortly  increased  to 

forty-one.     At  • there  was yards  difference  between  the 

competitors,  which  remained  unaltered  until  was  reached. 

I  At  this  point  a  turn  in  the  river  gave  a  temporary  advantage  to 
— ,    wnich   put    matters  more    upon   an   equality.           -  now 
quickened  his  stroke  to  forty-two  to  the  minute,  and  the  gap 
between  the  boats  became  wider  than  ever.     At  -    —  the  

;  crew  was  leading  by .     Again  called  upon  his  men,  a 

cry   that  was  taken  up  promptly   by  them  all  save ,   who 

seemed  to  be  pumped  out,  and  nearly  in  the  position  of  a 
passenger. 

The  crews  passed  -    -  in  the  following  order : in  

minutes  and  -    -  seconds,  and in  —    -  minutes  and  • 

seconds.     Although  even  now  scarcely  a  procession had  the 

i  race  so  well  in  hand  that  the  chances  of  —  —  seemed  to  be  at  a 

minimum.     At the  —   -  were  leading  by .     Once  more 

—  spurted,  but  the  effort  was  in  vain,  and passed  ths 

winning  post  in minutes seconds,  one  of  the  races 

on  record.     The  crews  dined  together  at in  the  evening. 

(Blanks  to  be  filled  -up — if  still  in  time— in  our  next  edition.) 


AIMIM.  3,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    n|-    TIIK    LnNDnN    CFI.MMV  MM. 


167 


THE    BOAT-RACE    IN    ANCIENT    EGYPT. 

DESPERATE  STRUGGLE  OKF  THE  NINEVEH  SOAP-WORKS. 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  FROM  THE  DIART  OF  TOBY,  M.P. 

House  of  Commons,  Monday,  March  22. 
—A  long  time  since  CALDWELL  passed  such 
hours  of  exhilarating  delight.  From  open- 
ing of  sitting  there  loomed  the  Public 
Health  Scotland  Bill,  a  measure  of  the  sort 
his  soul  loveth.  You  should  have  heard 
him  smack  his  lips  when,  holding  forth  at 
proportionate  length  on  this  Bill,  he 
observed  that  it  contained  126  clauses ! 
Stoutly  bound,  would  make  a  pleasant  book 
for  the  library,  to  be  dipped  into  when  de- 
pressed or  disappointed. 

Before  the  Scotch  Public  Health  Bill 
reached  there  was  the  Military  Works 
(Money)  Bill.  On  this  CALDWELL  took  a 
preliminary  canter,  a  brisk  forty  minutes, 
ju<-t  to  get  breathed  for  the  real  work  of 
evening.  House,  as  usual,  emptied  when 
he  rosp.  With  exception  of  one  Member 
asleep  on  top  In'iich  he  had  sole  possession  of 
whole  space  above  Gangway  on  Opposition 
side.  Not  a  soul  on  the  Front  Bench,  over 
which,  in  ecstasy  of  oratory,  he  perilously 
bent.  The  attraction  for  him  was  the  thin 
black  line  of  Ministers  on  Treasury  Bench 
opposite.  BRODHICK  in  charge  of  Bill  : 
CHANCELLOR  OK  EXCHEQUER  watching  over 
its  money  provisions ;  CHAPLIN,  with  ten- 
der recollections  of  himself,  with  head  pro- 
jecting from  Turkish  Bath-box,  wrestliiii: 
with  influenza  ;  JOKIM  and  RITCHIE  chat- 
tine  at  lower  end  of  bench  about  repulse 
of  City  in  its  raid  on  Southwark.  To 
these  CALDWELL  chatters  at  rate  of  two 
hundred  words  a  minute.  Storage  appa- 
rently illimitable. 

"What  is  the  use,"  he  wants  to  know, 
"  of  talking  about  reducing  the  National 
Debt  when  with  the  other  hand  you  create 
a  debt  covering  thirty  years  ?  " 


Curious  effect  of  speech  on  Sir  JAMBS 
FEUGUSSON,  sole  occupant  at  the  moment 
of  benches  above  Gangway  on  Ministerial 
side.  As  CALDWELL'S  screed  continued — 
level,  loud,  incessant,  without  inflection  or 
promise  of  pause,  for  all  the  world  like  one 
of  the  rolls  of  calico  in  process  of  printing 
in  the  paternal  mills  at  Milton-on-Campsie 
— FERGUSSON'S  eyes  rested  drowsily  on 
the  figure  leaning  over  back  of  bench  as  if 
it  were  edge  of  pulpit.  He  caught  sight  of 


.     . 


Effect  of  C-ldw-U's  Kloquenw ! 
(Sir  J-m-s  F-rg-ss-u.) 


the  hat  planted,  rim  uppermost,  by  the 
preacher,  suggesting  that  presently  it 
would  be  carried  round  the  pews,  with 
i?i i "nt  to  take  up  a  collection.  His  head 
dropped  gently  forward  on  his  chest ; 
his  eyes  closed ;  he  dreamed  of  far  off 
times  in  South  Australia,  in  New  Zealand, 
in  sunny  Bombay,  and  so  home  to  snug 
anchorage,  first  at  the  Foreign  Office,  then 
at  St.  Martin's-le-Grand.  The  voice  rising 
for  a  moment  to  a  higher  pitch,  as  CALD- 
WELL caught  sight  of  JOKIM  slinking  out 
behind  SPEAKER'S  chair,  FER<;V>M>N  awoke  ; 
furtivelv  fumbled  in  his  waistcoat-pocket; 
fished  forth  a  peppermint  ;  meditatively 
sucked  it. 

JAMIE  for  a  moment  thought  he  was  in 
church. 

Business  done.  —  Military  Works  Bill 
through  Committee. 

Tuesday. — Everyone  regrets  cause  ol 
physical  infirmity  which  deprives  Plymouth 
of  a  moiety  of  its  voice  in  the  House  of 
Commons.  House  would  admire  perse- 
verance and  courage  with  which  CHARLES 
HARRISON  ignores  a  painful  fact  if  they 
were  exhibited  elsewhere.  But,  really,  to 
have,  as  habitually  happened  in  Committee 
on  Education  Bill,  a  gentleman  rising 
above  Gangway  apparently,  for  the  space 
of  half-an-hour,  making  a  speech,  not  a 
syllable  of  which  travels  in  articulate  form 
across  the  floor,  is  a  little  trying  to  human 
patience. 

In  such  circumstances  the  House  is 
truly  sympathetic,  most  generously  for- 
bearing. If  it  happened  on  great  emer- 
gencies, at  long  intervals,  in  briefest  form, 
infliction  would  be  borne,  if  not  gladly,  at 
least  patiently.  But,  habitually,  and  at 
prodigious  length !  Well,  the  House 
is,  after  all,  only  human,  and  when,  to- 
night, HARRI><>N  comes  up  quite  fresh,  full 


168 


PUNCH,    OR   THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  3,  1897. 


of  figures  (not  to  mention  tropes)  on  posi- 
tion of  poor  clergy,  Members  madly  make 
for  the  door. 

"What's  the  difference,"  SAKK  asks, 
"between  BASHMEAD-ABTLETT,  Knight,  and 
CHARLES  HARBISON  ?  One,"  he  answers 
himself,  "is  vox,  et  prceterca  nihil;  the 
other  is  not  even  vox. 

Business  done.— Resolution  declaring  tax- 
ation of  clerical  incomes  inequitable  and 
excessive  carried  by  178  votes  against  97. 
House  forthwith  counted  out. 

Thursday. — No  one  looking  round  House 
to-night  would  imagine  that  its  business  is 
final  stage  of  an  iniquitous  measure,  driven 
roughshod  by  tyrannous  Minister  over  a 
helpless  minority,  to  the  grievous  wound- 
ing of  a  great  nation.  Yet  that 's  about 
the  size  of  it,  as  set  forth  in  speeches  from 
Opposition  benches.  Considering  the 
seriousness  of  the  situation,  the  stu- 
pendous nature  of  the  crisis,  Members 
admirably  succeed  in  curbing  emotion. 
Almost  the  only  man  who  seems  really  in 
earnest  about  the  matter  is  Lord  HUGH 
CECIL.  For  a  while  he  to-night,  with  the 
lever  of  a  living  speech,  lifted  the  drear 
mechanical  debate  above  the  level  of  angry 
assertion  and  flat  denial. 

SARK'S  prophetic  soul  beholds  in  the 
Premier's  younger  son  a  Parliamentary  de- 
bater who,  if  he  gives  himself  up  to  the 
work,  will  in  time  (and  it  need  not  be  a 
long  time)  recall  the  success  of  the  Lord 
ROBERT  CECIL  who  forty  years  ago  sat  in 
the  Commons  as  Member  for  Stamford. 
He  does  not  possess — or  has  not  developed 
— the  acrimonious  spirit  that  broutrht  his 
noble  father,  even  in  those  far-off  days, 
recognition  as  a  master  of  flouts  and  gibes. 
He  is  painfully  nervous  when  on  his 
legs;  but  he  always  gets  through. _  He 
has  something  to  say,  and  says  it  in 
phrases  that  have  some  of  the  polish,  much 
of  the  literary  flavour,  of  his  father's 
public  speech.  He  has  strong  beliefs, 
and  is  terribly  in  earnest ;  excellent  thines 
to  begin  with.  The  rest  will  come  with 
practice.  Already  he  has  secured  for  him- 
self the  advantage,  inestimable  for  a  youne 
speaker,  of  winning  the  sympathy  and 
favour  of  the  House. 

Business  done. — Education  Bill  read  a 
third  time  by  331  votes  against  131. 

Saturday,  12.35  A.M.  —  Interesting, 
though  fragmentary,  conversation  closed 
week's  hard  work.  Vote  on  account  agreed 
to  after  PRINCE  ARTHUR  had  danced  round 
JOHN  MORLEY  with  clenched  fists,  and  in- 
vitation to  "  come  on "  with  threatened 
vote  of  censure.  LEWIS  M'lvER  had  saved 
India  at  Oriel ;  motion  for  adjournment  of 
House  formally  put,  when  up  rose  Dr. 
TANNER. 

Had  shown  signs  of  restiveness  earlier 
in  sitting.  When  vote  on  account  of 
£10.631,218  put  from  Chair,  and  someone 
challenged  division,  the  Doctor,  with 
scornful  wave  of  arm,  deprecated  action. 

"  Mr.  LOWTHER,"  he  said,  "  it 's  too  con- 
temptible to  vote  on."  Further  showed 
his  scorn  by  walking  out  of  House.  Now 
back  again,  on  his  legs  ;  apparently  in  for 
long  speech. 

"Mr.  SPEAKER,  Sir,"  he  said.  "On  the 
motion  for  the  adjournment — 

The  SPEAKER  :  "  The  House  will  now  ad- 
journ "  ;  and  gathering  up  his  robes,  tak- 
ing sharp  turn  to  the  right,  the  SPEAKER 
disappeared.  The  Sergeant  -  at  -  Arms 
marched  up,  walked  off  mace  ;  Clerks  at 
table  out  away  their  papers ;  Members 
hurried  towards  the  door ;  and  no  one 
knows,  or  ever  will  know,  what,  at  this 


To  REMOVE  ANY  POSSIBLE  LINGERING  DOUBT  AS  TO  THE  NOBILITY  OF  HIS  OWN  BLOOD, 
MR.  PUNCH  PRESENTS  TO  THE  PUBLIC  THE  ABOVE  REPRODUCTION  OF  A  VERY  INTERESTING 
EARLY  TAPESTRY,  REPRESENTING  WILLIAM  THE  CONQUEROR  MAKING  A  GRANT  OF  ARMS  (A 

TOBY  UNMUZZLED   AND  JUBILANT  ON   A   FIELD   VERT)  TO   LE   CHEVALIER   PONCHE. 


crisis  in  the  world's  history,  Dr.  TANNER 
was  going  to  say. 

Business  done. — Vote  on  Account  agreed 
to. 


Lines  on  the    League   Championship. 

First  Division. 

WHO  for  the  Cup  are  fortune's  fair  eyes 

cast  on? 
Asks  everyone  ;  and  echo  answers 

ASTON  ! 

Second  Division. 

'Tig  a  knotty  point,  there  is  not  a  doubt, 
To  prophesy  which  at  the  top  will  come  out. 
But  it  seems  quite  clear  to  the  critical  eye 
That  Notts  will  be  found  in  the  "  final  tie." 


NOTE  IN  NEXT  NEW  EDITION  OF  SHAK- 
SPEARE. — Everything  the  Weird  Sisters  pro- 
phesied came  to  pass  (in  some  way  or  other) 
except  one  important  item.  Generalissimo 
Macbeth  had  been  promised  a  Mayoralty. 
How  's  that  ?  Well,  the  sisters  were  Scotch 
spirits,  Glen  Whiskey  Witches,  and  uncom- 
monly neat  in  appearance,  and  they  would 
have  pronounced  "  more  hereafter "  as 
"  mair  hereafter,"  which  Macbeth's  ambi- 
tion would  have  interpreted  as  "  Mayor 
hereafter."  This  is  a  point  that  WILLIE 
SHAKSPEARE,  from  want  of  familiarity  with 
the  Scotch  language,  has  certainly  missed. 


ADVICE  TO  THOSE  WHO  ARE  NOT  FOND  OF 
STREET  Music. — Reside  close  to  a  dentist's. 
Itinerant  organ-men  carefully  avoid  play- 
ing anywhere  near  the  house  of  a  practi- 
tioner, who  can  effectually  stop  or  remove 
all  troublesome  grinders. 

CHANCE  FOR  THE  JONESES  AND  SMITHS. — 
What  is  the  English  surname,  or  rather  the 
Welsh  surname,  JONES,  when  translated 
into  Rumanian  ?  It  is  to  be  found  in  the 
Times  report  of  a  discussion  in  the  Ruma- 
nian Chamber  of  Deputies,  where  a  vigor- 


ous attack  on  the  Rural  Bank  Act  was 
made  by  Deputy  M.  TAKE  JONESCO.  Take 
away  "  co,"  and  plain  "  JONES  "  remains. 
Here  is  a  chance  for  our  eminent  dramatist, 
ENRY  HAUTHOR,  to  translate  himself  (and 
his  latest  play,  The  Physician,  at  the  Crite- 
rion) into  Rumanian  and  become  ENRI 
AUTEUR  JONESCO.  The  SMITHS  could  fel- 
low ;  SMITHESCO  and  BROWNESCO  would  be 
mementos  of  the  Jubilee  Year. 


In  the   Name  of  Charity. 

(By  a  much-pestered  Pedestrian.) 

CHARITY  covers  many  sins,  no  doubt, 
But,  genteel  beggars  are  too  much  about ; 
And  some  of  Charity's  unlicensed  proxies 
Do  bear — unauthorised  collecting-boxes! 
Mercy,  of  whose  just  claims  we  'd  not  be 

scorners, 
Crieth,  metbinks,  too  much  at  our  street 

corners ! 

NEW  HELLENISM. — There  has  been  such  a 
run  on  second-hand  J^emprieres  that  the 
traffic  in  Holywell  Street  has  had  to  be 
regulated  by  the  police.  The  nymph  Amal- 
thea  of  Crete,  who  nursed  Jupiter  on  goat's 
milk,  has  been  dragged  forth  from  her  well- 
established  obscurity,  and  has  received  a 
temporary  advertisement,  only  to  have  her 
name  misspelt  (as  Almathea)  by  a  distin- 
guished literary  man.  The  Greek  Charge 
d'Affaire.s  has  learnt  the  names  of  twenty- 
eight  British  authors  previously  unknown 
to  him.  A  special  correspondent  has  taken 
an  unfair  advantage  over  his  confreres  in 
search  of  copy  by  getting  arrested  as  a  spy. 


FROM  THE  IRREPRESSIBLE. 

Q.  Why  does  Mr.  HALL  CAINE  belie  the 
Manx  cat  ?  A .  Because  he  has  so  much  tale. 


IF  GALLANT  LITTLE  GREECE  WOULD  ONLY 
UNDERSTAND  IT. — The  Powers  are  Con- 
Crete. 


AIMUI,  10,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    oil   TMK    LONDON    CIIAIMN  AIM. 


169 


APPRECIATION. 


Miss  Ellen.  "  THIS  ONE  is  FOR  THE  ACADEMY,  AUNT  CLARA." 
Aunt  Clara  (who  feels  she  must,  say  something'].   "How  VERY"  NICE  ! 
Oil,    MY   USAK   El.LKN,    WHAT  A   PERFECT   LOVS  OF   A   FRAUBl" 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

THOUGH  S.  BARING-GOULD  is  not  seen  at  his  very  best  in 
Guavas  the  Tanner,  which,  considering  its  subject,  might  be 
located  among  his  "  miner  works,  yet  does  the  tale  abound  in 
exciting  situations,  and  presents  us  with  a  couple  of  heroines, 
the  one  as  good,  the  other  as  bad,  as  they  make  'em ;  a  manly 
hero  and  a  contemptible  pair  or  more  of  villains,  on  whom 
poetic  justice  comes  down  heavily  before  the  final  chapter. 
The  construction  of  the  story  is,  like  its  mining  technicalities, 
a  hit  puzzling,  while  the  explanations  are,  at  all  events  to  the 
eager  reader  who  would  not  willingly  be  a  skipper,  somewhat 
tedious.  For  all  that  the  Baron  recommends  Guavas  the  Tanner. 

Messrs.  A.  &  C.  BLACK,  by  publishing  their  most  useful 
ir/m'.s-  Jf/io,  show  that  they  decidedly  know  "What's  \\hat." 
It  brings  us  up  to  the  very  latest  date  of  the  County  Council 
awotion  of  March  the  ninth;  it  gives  us  not  only  the  House  of 
Lords  but  the  Heirs  of  Pet" rs,  which,  as  a  title  to  a  catalogue  in 
this  work, hath  a  sound  calculated  to  raise  the  danderof  an  anti- 
peerish  Radical  who  might  bo  inclined  to  say,  "  See  what  airs  the 
Peers  ^ivo  themselves!"  Army,  Academy,  Bishops,  Corporation, 
and  even  "Agents  for  Cruises,"  all  are  here  mixed  up  with  Admirals, 
Deans,  Earls,  and  Field-Marshals ;  information  as  to  Ireland  and 
India  ;  Mems.  about  Magistrates  and  Magazines  ;  notes  on  Navy 
and  Newspaper*,  and  brief  biographies  of  notabilities  from  the 
first  to  the  last  letter  of  the  alphabet,  giving  even  the  recreations 
of  distinguished  individuals,  one  of  whom  has  recorded  how  the 
little  time  he  has  to  spare  away  from  his  multifarious  duties  is 
devoted  to  the  "recreation"  of  "  amateur  soldiering."  Delight- 
fill !  What  charming  pictures  of  infantry  drill  in  the  nursery, 
pickets  in  the  pantry,  and  the  charge  of  the  light  brigade  on 
the  rocking-horse,  does  this  not  suggest!  And  what  is  the 
recreation  of  the  "retired  statesman."  Mr.  GLADSTONE?  It  is 
simply  "Literature."  No  biking  and  golfing,  such  as  occupy 
the  spare  time  of  Rt.  Hon.  ARTHUR  JAMES  BALHOUR,  Captain 
of  the  Golfers,  and  President  of  Cycle-Unionists.  Remark  a 
touching  entry  in  the  brief  biographical  note  about  the  Hon. 
Sir  ROBERT  ROMER,  whose  "recreations"  are  "shooting,  cycling, 


rowing;  formerly  cricket."  The  "formerly"  might  be  some- 
what  sad,  were  it  not  that  any  one  of  the  other  three  sports  and 
pastimes  would  be  quite  enough  for  any  ordinary  individual. 
Still  can  Mr.  Justice  blithely  sing, 

I  'HI  a  KOIIBH,  I  'in  a  ROM  IB, 
Ami  I'll  be  a  KUIEFU  Hill! 

So  ''his  health  and  song,"  and  may  he  long  continue  to  be 
"the  noblest  ROMEH  of  them  all."  ll'ho't  Irho  is  a  moat  use- 
ful and  companionable  book. 

It  is  pretty  obvious  that  if  CLARK  RUSSELL  had  never  lived 
and  written  his  unique  Tales  of  the  Sea  we  should  never  have  had 
Captain  Castle  (S.\imi,  KI.UKKI.  There  is  the  same  blameless, 
single  female  <m  hoard  a  sailing  ship  ;  the  same  villainous,  mutin- 
ous crew  ;  the  same  gallant  sailor  who,  almost  single-banded, 
distinguishes  himself  at  every  turn  of  untoward  event.  There 
is  the  same  ocean,  but  with  a  difference.  No  one  but  CLARK 
RrssKi.i.  is  able  to  bring  within  the  binding  of  a  six-shilling 
novel  (or,  for  that  matter,  one  published  at  the  old  price  of  a 
guinea  and  a  half)  the  movement,  the  very  smell  or  the  sea. 
Nevertheless,  my  Baro-nite  savs,  Mr.  CARLTON  DAWB  is  an  ad- 
mirable under-tinlier.  his  book  being,  after  the  manner  of  the 
Master,  crammed  with  vivid  incident  graphically  portrayed. 

THE  BARON. 


T1IK   "MEKRY   FAMILY"   CONCERT. 

W«  are  a  merry  Concert,  sort  of  Family  "Monday  Pop." 
We  must  play  on  because,  you  see,  each  one  's  afraid  to  stop. 
We  all  conduct  each  other,  for  we  couldn't  trust  a  leader, 
But  we  don't  know  what  might  happen  to  the  one  who  turned 

seceder ; 
For  all  the   rest  might  round  on   him.     Of  course,   it's  awful 

footle, 
But  needs  must  when  the— Sultan— drives,  so  on  we  twang  and 

tootle. 

But  we  all  are  playing  different  airs,  and  none  in  the  same  key, 
So  the  tutti's  awful  shaky,  and  the  tempo— oh,  dear  me  I  It 
Russia  plays  first  fiddle,  Germany  the  big  drum, 
And  England — well,  I  think  they  say — her  instrument 's  the  comb! 
France  has  the  penny-whistle,  Italy  the  guitar. 
Oh !  we  are  a  merry  Concert !    Yes,  we  are,  we  are,  we  ARE  ! !  1 


"  In  the   Queen's  Name." 

Martha  the  Cook  (to  LIZZY  the  Housemaid).  'Ere's  an  'orrible 
mistake.  In  'is  subscripshion  list  the  Heditor  'as  spelt  your 
name  with  a  "hi"  and  a  "he"  instead  of  a  "  y." 


STARTING  A  SYNDICATE. 

A  SERIO-COMIC  INTERLUDE. 

SCENE— An  Office  in  the  City.        Tint.— After  Lunch. 
PRESENT— Members  of  a  proposed  Syndicate. 

First  Member. ,  And  now,  gentlemen,  to  business.  I  suppose 
we  may  put  down  the  capital  at  fifty  thousand? 

.Second  Mem.  Better  make  it  five  hundred  thousand.  Half  a 
million  is  so  much  easier  to  get. 

Third  Mem.  Of  course.    Who  would  look  at  a  paltry  fifty? 

First  Mem.  Perhaps  you  are  right.     Five  pound  shares,  eh? 

Fourth  Mem.  Better  make  them  sovereigns.  Simpler  to  ma- 
nipulate. 

First  Mem.  I  daresay.     Then  the  same  solicitors  as  our  last  ? 

Fifth  Mem.  Yes,  on  the  condition  that  they  get  a  firm  to 
undertake  the  underwriting. 

First  Mem.  Necessarily.  The  firm  I  propose,  gentlemen,  are 
men  of  business,  and  quite  recognise  that  nothing  purchases 
nothing. 

Second  Mem.  And  they  could  get  the  secretary  with  a  thou- 
sand to  invest. 

First  Mem.  Certainly.  Our  brokers,  bankers,  and  auditors  as 
before.  Eh,  gentlemen  ? 

Fifth  Mem.  On  the  same  conditions. 

Firxt  Mrm.  That  is  understood.  And  now  the  prospectus  is 
getting  into  shape.  Is  there  anything  else  anyone  can  suggest? 

Fourth  Mem.  Oughtn't  we  to  have  some  object  in  view? 

first  Mem.  Assuredly.     Making  money. 

Fourth  Mem.  Don't  be  frivolous.  But  what  I  mean  is,  should 
we  not  know  for  what  purpose  we  are  going  to  expend  the 
half  million? 

First  Mem.  Oh,  you  mean  the  name.  Well,  that  compara- 
tively unimportant  detail  we  might  safely  leave  until  our  next 
pleasant  gathering.  [Meeting  adjourned.  Curtain. 


170 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[Arnn,  10,  1897. 


"WHERE'S    YOUR    WHEELIE    GLADSTONE    NOW?" 

WHY,  IN  HIS  STUDY,  QUIETLY  CONTEMPLATING  THB  PROBABILITIES  OF  HIS  BEING  ANNOUNCED  AS  A  PRACTISED  GOLFIST,  AX 
ACCOMPLISHED  CYCLIST,  A  PERFECT  PUGILIST   AND  AN  "ADMIRABLE  OMCHTON"  IN  SPORTS  GENERALLY. 


APRIL  10,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE    I.<>M><>.\    (  1 1. \IM\ARI. 


171 


Minn  (whispering  to  her  mother).  "MoHMiE,  ISN'T  COLONEL  GIUMSUAW  UOLY  ?  ' 

The  Colonel.  "DON'T  YOU  KNOW,  MY  LITFLE  GIRL,  THAT  IT  is  BUDK  TO  WHISPER  IN  COMPANY  1" 

JUina.  "WELL,  IT  WOULD  BE  KUDER  TO  SAY  IT  our  LOUD  !" 


UP  AND  DOWN. 

(The  Middle-class  Taj-payer  lo  Sir  Michael.) 

["  Up,  up,  up  goes  the  revenue!  Again  it  U  ad- 
vancing by  leaps  and  bounds.  This  year  it  has 
reached  ll'u-  amazing  tolal  of  £112,198,517  ;  <>r 
£2,858,601  over  last  year's  corresponding  returns, 
which  was  held  to  be  a  [  hcnomenal  yield." 

J)tiily  Chronicle.] 

AH  I    Here  we  go  up,  up,  up !    And  there 

we  go  down,  down,  down! 
No,    no,    not   a   bit   of   it  I     Jubilee  gifts 

should  a  jubilee  revenue  crown. 
But — the  Income  Tax  stands,  as  so  long  it 

l.:ts  stood,  at  eightpence — oh  lor! — in 

the  pound 
And    whenever    "  phenomena]    yields "    do 

turn  up,  phenomenal  claims,  too,  are 

found. 
Sir  MICHAEL,   my  boy,  we  will  dub   you 

Saint  MICHAEL   if   only  you  '11   lower 

that  tax, 

Wh  ich    we   middle-class    camels   have   pa- 
tiently   borne,    but    which    slowly    is 

breaking  our  backs. 
Here  we  go  up,  up.  up !     Well,  we  're  glad 

in  this  Jubilee  Year 
You  should  have  such  a  bonus.  But,  mercy 

upon  us  I  you're  apt  to  forget  us,  we 

fear. 
We  must  pay  the  Old  Lady  her  eightpence, 

subscribe  to  the  Jubilee  Purse, 
And  eke  to  the  Indian  Famine  Relief  Fund  1 

Our  state,  my  dear  Sir,  will  be  worse 
In    this    Annvs    ULirabilis,    leaping    and 

bounding.  We  're  loyal  to  country  and 

Crown, 


But  oh !  since  the  Revenue  goes  up,  up,  up, 
let  the  Income  Tax  go  down,  down, 

down!!! 


A  Suggestion  to  Owneia  of  Factory  Chimneys  near 
the  route  of  Royal  Procession.  You'd  get  the 
above  prices  easily. 


THE   TRUE  PATRIOT. 

MR.  JOSEPH  CHAMBERLAIN,  in  his  high- 
spirited  and  patriotic  speech  at  the  Royal 
Colonial  Institute,  complained  of  certain 
unfriendly  critics  who  "  appear  to  be  under 
the  impression  that  nobody  but  a  foreigner 
has  a  right  to  be  a  patriot."  A  hit,  a 
palpable  hit,  Sir!  Per  contra,  however, 
there  ars  a  yet  larger  number  of  people 
who  appear  to  hold  the  equally  irrational 
opinion  that  "nobody  but  an  Englishman 
has  a  right  to  be  a  patriot "  ;  and  that  the 
patriotism  of  the  foreigner  is,  to  say  the 
least  of  it,  a  mere  superfluity  of  naughti- 
ness. Which  Is  absurd !  If  patriotism  is 
a  crowning  virtue  in  a  Briton,  it  cannot  be 
a  vice  even  in  a  Boer.  Let  us,  whether 
common  citizens  of  Colonial  Ministers,  re- 
member that  the  wont  enemy  of  Peace  is 
he  who  would  make  patriotism  a  monopoly 
— anywhere. 

A  patriot,  no  doubt,  is  a  fine  fellow, 
Whether  ho  'i  black,  <r  white,  or  brown,  or  yellow ; 
Hut  the  U-IM  patriot,  foe  to  strife  and  schism, 
Allows  for  other  peofle'i  patriotism. 


WITH  TH»  S.  AFRICAN  INQUIRY  Coii- 
MITTM. — Mr.  L-B-CH-M  hopes  to  succeed 
in  carrying  out  his  plan  or  examination, 
cheered  by  the  ancient  Latin  proverb, 
"Lobby  omnia  vincit." 


NEW  VERSION  OF  AN  OLD  PROVERB  (by 
an  evicting  landlord  on  the  route  of  the 
Royal  Jubilee  Procession). — "An  empty 
house  is  better  than  a  good  tenant." 


172 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


10,  1897. 


MODE. 


Madame  Jones.  "THERE,  Miss  !     Now  DON'T  THAT  STYLE  SUIT  YOUR 
MA'S  FIGURE  MOST  BEAUTIFUL?" 


THE    WOTHERSPOONS. 

A  STORY  IN  SCENES. 

VII. 
SCENE— The  Dining-room,  as  before. 

Spencer  (to  himself) .  It 's  awful  1     Poor  dear  ETTA  !  engaged  to 

a  Swiss  valet,  and  no  more  idea  of  it  than I  really  don't 

know  what  1  can  say  or  do.     I  wonder  whether I  '11  try  it. 

(Aloud.)  Er — VON  GUBLEE,  to  return  to  this  valet.  It  strikes 
me  now  that  he  'd  much  better  marry  the  keeper's  daughter. 

Fritz  (with  a  short  laugh).  Fery  goot  advahice,  but  a  liddle 
doo  lade ! 

Henrietta  (to  herself).  How  Wind  poor  SPEN  is  I  If  I  could 
only  open  his  eyes,  or  work  on  this  girl's  better  feelings — if  she 

has  any — I  might •     (Aloud,  with  intention.)     Yes,  SPENCER, 

FKITZ  means  that  the  girl,  from  pique  or — or  some  other  motive, 
has  been  foolish  enough  to  engage  herself  to — to  somebody  more 
than  twice  her  age. 

Spen.  (to  himself).  That's  a  back-hander  for  me.  It's  not 
kind,  or  like  ETTA — but  theie,  poor  girl,  I  must  make  allowances 
for  her.  (Aloud.)  Oh,  I  was  not  aware  of  that.  Well,  well, 
such  marriages  are  not  always 

Henr.  But  this  one  can't  turn  out  well.  And  how  does  she 
know  that,  when  it  is  too  late,  the  valet  who,  I  believe,  is  still 

devoted  to  her You  did  say  so,  didn't  you,  FRITZ?     (In  an 

undertone.)     Say  he  is;  you're  not  helping  me  a  bit! 

[FEITZ  tugs  at  his  moustaches  with  an  expression  of  hopeless 
vacuity. 

Mercy.  Excuse  me,  ETTA,  my  dear,  but  if  Mr.  VON  GUBLEH 
told  you  that,  he  might  hare  mentioned  that  the  valet — unless 
I  'm  very  much  mistaken — is  engaged  to  be  married  himself. 

Spen.  And  for  purely  mercenary  reasons,  I'm  afraid,  eh, 
MEROY,  my  darling?  Still — er — I  am  sure  that,  if  his  fiancee 
were  acquainted  with  the  facts,  she  wouldn't  hesitate  a  moment 
in  releasing  him. 


Mercy.  Mr.  VON  GUBLER  hasn't  said  yet  whether  the  valet 
wanted  to  be  released.  (To  FRITZ.)  Does  he  ? 

Fritz.  To  find  himself  left  out  altogetter  in  the  colt?  Nod 
likely  I 

Spen.  Ah,  but  there  's  time  yet.  you  see.  He  might  go  back 
to  his  old  sweetheart,  and  MERCY  has  an  idea  that  if  he  did,  she 
might  not  be  unwilling,  even  now —  (To  MEROY,  sotto  voce.) 
Back  me  up,  darling,  back  me  up  I 

Mercy.  You  're  going  too  far,  SPENCER.  If  she 's  the  girl  I 
take  her  for,  she  wouldn't  have  anything  to  do  with  a  man  who  's 
left  off  caring  for  her. 

Henr.  But  he  hasn't  left  off,  has  he,  FRITZ  ?  And — and  we 
both  think,  if  she  only  had  the  courage  to  break  it  off — 

Mercy.  On  the  bare  chance  that  he  might  do  the  same?  I 
wouldn't,  in  her  place.  Besides,  how  can  a  girl  tell  a  man  like 
that? 

Spen.  (thoughtfully).  I  see  the  difficulty.  But  I  tell  you  what 
I  could  do,  VON  GUBLER.  If  I  only  had  this  other  man's  name 
and  address — I  mean  the  man  this  girl  is  now  engaged  to,  I  'm 
quite  willing  to  go  and  call  upon  him  myself,  and  put  it  to  him 
delicately,  you  know. 

Mercy.  Oh,  don't,  don't!  if  you  only  knew  how  ridiculous 
you  're  making  yourself  I 

Spen.  (annoyed).  My  dear  MERCY,  you  might  give  me  credit 
for  being — er — sufficiently  a  man  of  the  world  to — 

Henr.  No,  no,  SPENCER.  I  will  undertake  to  explain  it  to  him. 
And  if  MERCY  can  tell  me  where  to  find  this  other  woman,  I  will 
go  and  see  her.  I'll  appeal  to  her  pride  and  self-respect  to  give 
up  this  man,  the  valet,  who  doesn't  really  care  for  her,  and  does 
care  for  somebody  else.  (MERCY  giggles  hysterically.)  1  appear 
to  amuse  you? 

Fritz.  It  is  nodings.  Miss  MARIGOLT  thinks  berhaps  you  will 
find  that  laty  a  liddle  diffigult  to  gonvince . 

Mercy.  But  if  they  were  both  free,  they  wouldn't  be  a  bit 
forwarder,  for  the  valet  has  nothing  to  marry  on. 

Fritz.  I  peg  bardon.  I  habben  to  know  he  has  a  schmall 
broberty,  nod  much,  but  enotf  to  puy  a  liddle  hotel  or  lotching- 
house,  and  lif  bretty  gomfordable. 

Henr.  There,  MERCY,  you  see  that  if  the  girl  only But 

let  us  two  go  upstairs  and  talk  it  over,  and  leave  SPENCER  and 
FRITZ  to  smoke  in  peace.  [She  rises. 

Spen.  Yes,  go,  my  dear,  for  I  should  like  a  little  quiet  chat 
over  this  with  VON  GUBLER,  and  if  he  will  leave  it  to  me 

Fritz  (sullenly).  It  is  pedder  you  leaf  it  to  the  yong  beoples 
to  seddle.  It  is  fery  simble.  This  yong  chab  has  only  to  say  to 
the  yong  vomans,  "  Look  here,  if  you  sack  your  olt  vellow,  1  gif 
my  olt  curl  whad  you  gall  the  chuck  I  "  There  it  is  in  a  nudsheil. 

Spen.  (disgusted).  If  that's  your  idea  of  putting  it  delicately! 

Fritz.  Ach,  we  are  oal  so  deligate  and  diblomatic  we  nefer  ged 
novhere  1  HENHIETTB,  do  not  leaf  pefore  1  ask  Miss  MARIGOLT  if 
she  brefer  an  elterly  sugarproker  with  nod  much  moneys,  a 
schmall  house,  and  a  mittle-aged  sister  to  a  yong  enderbrising 
Schviss  with  loaf  in  his  heart  and  in  his  pocket  a  liddle  gabital  I 

Mercy  (rushing  into  his  arms).  Oh,  FRITZ,  of  course  I  'd  rather 
have  you  if  you  '11  give  up  HENRIETTA  !  And  I  'm  sure  SPENCER 
won't  mind.  He's  such  a  goodnatured  old  dear.  Now,  you 
know  you  are,  SPENCER! 

[SPENCER  and  HENRIETTA  stare  wildly  at  them. 

Spen.  (passing  his  hand  over  his  brows).  But — but,  MERCY,  you 
can't  be Why,  you  told  me  your  father  was  a  gentleman- 
farmer,  and  frequently  went  out  shooting  with  Lord  COLESHAFTS  ! 

Fritz.  As  keeber — quide  drue.  The  rest — well,  I  subbose  that 
was  oal  liddle  MERCY'S  von. 

Henr.  (faintly,  from  an  armchair  into  which  slie  has  sunk). 
But — at  least  you  cannot  have  been  a — a,  valet  ?  A  VON  GUBLEH  i 

Mercy.  GUBLER  I  knew  him  as.  Plain  GUBLER.  I  fancy  the 
rest  was — well,  wasn't  little  Fritz's  von.  And  I  can't  help  being 
a  little  amused,  you  know,  at  your  being  in  such  a  state  lest  I 
should  shock  his  aristocratic  feelings  by  letting  out  that  I  'd  been 
a  servant.  And  oh,  SPENCER,  when  you  volunteered  to  go  and 
put  the  case  to  yourself  as  one  man  to  another — well,  there,  it 
was  very  nearly  the  death  of  me  ! 

Spen.  I — I  daresay  it  must  have  struck  you  as  supremely  ridicu- 
lous. However,  I  think  I  may  assure  you  that  my  sister  and  I 

fully  recognise  now  that — that Ah,   MERCY,   MERCY,   you 

might  have  been  frank  with  me  ! 

Henr.  (to  Fritz).  Do  you  suppose  that  if  I  had  known — all 
this — I  should  ever  have ? 

Mercy.  Oh,  it 's  all  very  well,  but  you  weren't  so  particularly 
frank  with  us.  I  shall  always  think — I  always  must  think  myself 
— that,  being  both  so  young  and  inexperienced,  we  ought  to  have 
been  told  more,  and  not  deceived  into  giving  a  promise  by — 
well,  what  some  would  call  false  pretences! 

Fritz  (wagging  his  head  with  solemn  reproach).  Yes,  valse 
bretence,  that  is  yust  the  vort.  We  haf  been  imbosed  upon. 


APKII.  10,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  "i;  TIIK  LONDON  m. \IMV.\IM. 


IT- 


REASSURING,    BUT    MORTIFYING. 

Aristocratic  but  Incompetent  Amateur  (anxiously).      HAVE  YOU — ER — BACKED  THE  HORSE  FOR  MUCH?' 
Owner.  "MY  DBAR  SIR,  SHOVLD  I  HAVE  GIVEN  YOU  THB  MOUNT  IF  I  HAD?" 


Spen.  (turning  on  him).  Confound  you,  what  do  you  mean  by 
that  ?  How  have  you  been  imposed  upon  ? 

Mercy.  Why,  I  'm  sure  you  never  said  a  word  about  your  not 
being  well-off  enough  to  give  me  a  house  of  my  own,  and  I  'd  no 
idea  till  this  evening  that  I  was  expected  to  live  in  a  poky  little 
place  like  this  along  with  your  sister  and  her  husband — let  alone 
that  he  would  turn  out  to  be  FRITZ  ! 

Fritz.  And  Miss  VODBRSBOON  gif  me  to  onderstand  that  her 
broiler  was  always  to  remain  a  patchelor  and  bay  rades  and 
daxes.  I  was  neter  dolt  he  vas  engaged,  and  to  the  curl  I  loafed, 
and  did  not  exbect  efer  again  to  see  I 

>';» 'n.  and Henr. (stammering).  But — but — but — we  never 1 

Mercy  (sweetly).  There,  never  mind,  we  forgive  you.  I'm 
sure,  as  things  have  turned  out,  we  ought  to  feel  very  much 
obliged,  oughtn't  we,  FRITZ?  And  now,  if  Mias  WOTHEBSPOON 
won't  think  it  otfully  rude  my  leaving  so  early,  1  must  be  running 
away,  as  1  promised  aunt  1  'd  be  back  soon.  There  needn't  be 
any  ill-feeling  between  us,  I  'm  sure  ?  [She  comes  towards  SPENCER. 

Spen.  (indistinctly).  I — I  shall  always  wish  you  well,  my  dear. 

Mercy..  That 's  right.     And — and   I  'm   sure   FRITZ    won't    be 

jealous  if  I  gave  you  just  one (She  comes  closer;  SPENCER 

draws  back  involuntarily).  Oh,  well,  you  needn't  be  sulky  about 
it !     FRITZ,  you  '11  see  me  home  to  Shepherd's  Bush,  won't  you  ? 

Fritz.  Cerdainly.  Gootbye,  mine  HEN — I  mean,  Miss  Vop«R- 
SBOON.  Do  not  veep  for  me.  In  dime  you  com  to  see  it  is 
pedder  we  bait. 

Henr.  (with  her  hand  on  the  bell).  I  think  I  have  come  to  see 
that  already. 

Mercy  (cheerfuJly).  Oh,  yes,  it  would  never  have  done.  We 
should  only  have  fought  like  ferrets  in  a  bag.  And  now — why 
you  two  will  have  your  cosy  little  house,  and  your  old-fashioned 
things,  and  your  homely  housemaid,  all  to  yourselves.  Goodbye, 
and  thanks  for  a  most  offully  pleasant  evening.  We  can  let 
ourselves  out.  Come,  FRITZ,  I  daresay  we  can  find  a  hansom  at 
the  corner. 

departs,  leaving  SPENCER  sitting  stupefied,  his  head  in 
his  hands. 


Fritz  (as  he  follows  her).  A  hansom — yes.     Or  a  bus. 

[The  front  door  is  shut.     SPENCER  and  HENRIETTA  remain 
silent  for  some  time. 

Henr.  (at  length).  Well-SpBNCER  ? 

Spen.  (drearily).  Well,  HENRIETTA  P 

Henr.  They  were  right.     We — we  are  better  as  we  are. 

Spen.  Yes,  it  would  never  have  done. 

[There  is  a  knock  at  the  door;  both  start  violently.     MARIA 
enters  with  tray. 

Maria.  I  thought  p'raps  it  was  coffee  you  rang  for,  Sir.  (Sht 
sees  Miss  W.  with  sv/rprise.)  I  Ve  only  brought  two  cups  in,  Miss 
HENRIETTA.  I  was  going  to  give  you  and  the — the  young  lady 
yours  in  the  drawing-room. 

Henr.  Thank  you,  MARIA,  but  I  will  take  mine  here.  And — 
and  the  other  two  cups  will  not  be  needed — now. 

Maria  (with  comprehension).  Well,  Mjss,  I  'm  sure  it 's  s  load 
off  my  mind,  for,  as  I  'ye  just  been  saying  to  cook — (she  cheeks 
herself  at  the  sight  of  their  expressions) — that  coffee-machine  don't 
make  coffee,  not  fit  to  drink,  for  four.  (To  herself,  as  she  goes 
out).  Pore  souls,  it's  easy  to  see  what's  happened.  I  think  I'd 
better  tell  cook  I  'd  only  been  gammoning  her  I 

Henr.  (rising,  and  putting  her  hand  on  SPENCER'S  shoulder). 
SPEX,  dear,  are  you  feeling  very  sore  about  this  ? 

Spen.  I  feel  I  've  been  an  old  fool,  ETTA,  my  dear,  and  it  serves  me 
right.  [He  draws  her  doom,  to  a  seat  beside  him. 

Henr.  I've  been  quite  aa  much  a  fool.  SPEN,  that — that 
wretch  had  the  impertinence  to  tell  me  "  not  to  weep  for  him  " ! 
Oh,  I  wish  now  I  could  have  said  something  that  would  have 
stung  even  him.  And  that  girl  actually  offered  to  kiss  you, 
after —  Did  you  notice? 

Spen.  Yes— I  noticed.  She  thought  I  was  sulky,  but  somehow 
I  couldn't (Half  to  himself.)  I  wish  now  I  'd 

Henr.  One  never  thinks  of  the  right  things  till  afterwards,  and 
then  it 's  too  late. 

Spen.  (with  a  sigh).  And  then  it 's  too  late. 

[He  puts  out   his  ham!,   which  she  takes.     Both  sit  gazing 
nlently  at  the  fire.  [THE  KND.J 


174 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APKH.  10,  1897. 


lie.  "WHAT  PRETTY  HAIK  THAT  Miss  DASHWOOD  HAS— LIKE  SPUN  GOLD!" 
She  (her  rival).  "  YES— FOURTEEN  CARROT." 


ROUNDABOUT  READINGS. 

(Being  same  selections  from  the  Correspondence  between  Mr.  Robert 

Roundabout,  his  Nephew  at  Cambridge,  and  others.) 
No.   XI.— OF    THE   UNDERGRADUATE   IN   LONDON — OF   THE   YOUNG 

TOWN-BIRD— OF  YOUTH  AND  ENJOYMENT— OF  A  DOG  AND  A  CAT. 

MY  DEAR  JACK, — Lo,  how  the  weeks  slip  away  I  Perhaps  on 
the  very  day  of  your  receiving  this  letter  you  will  be  packing 
your  luggage;  paying  your  bills  (ahem!),  and  descending  upon 
the  metropolis  to  witness,  as  one  who,  having  been  behind  the 
scenes,  knows  all  that  is  to  be  known  about  these  two  earth- 
shaking  events,  the  Oxford  and  Cambridge  Athletic  Sports  and 
the  Boatrace  from  Putney  to  Mortlake.  If  you  wish  to  make 
my  humble  rooms  your  headquarters  for  a  few  days  before  you 
go  home  and  rejoice  the  heart  of  your  mother,  I  need  only  tell 
you  that  you  will  be  heartily  welcome,  and  that  a  latch-key,  to 
be  used,  as  I  hope,  with  the  modesty  and  discretion  that  are  the 
most  charming  qualities  of  youth,  is  at  your  disposal. 

Even  if  I  kept  no  count  of  the  changing  seasons  by  any  other 
method,  I  should  know  the  advent  of  the  University  Vacation  by 
the  appearance  of  our  London  streets.  At  every  step  you  meet 
the  slim  and  springy  figures  of  the  undergraduates,  their  fresh 
and  cheerful  faces  somewhat  overcast,  it  must  be  admitted,  by 
the  dread  responsibility  attaching  to  frock-coats,  patent-leather 
boots  and  neckties,  that  in  their  ample  magnificence  leave  but 
little  to  the  imagination.  Two  of  them,  it  may  be,  while  walk- 
ing irreproachably  down  St.  James's  Street,  and  reciting  to  one 
another  the  awe-inspiring  names  of  the  various  clubs  they  pass, 
see  a  friend  advancing  to  meet  them.  They  saw  him  last  at 
Cambridge  two  days  before,  when  they  parted  from  him  at  the 
end  of  a  Term  spent  in  his  society.  What  does  that  matter? 
The  three  greet  one  another  with  a  surprised  enthusiasm  that 
might  be  the  result  of  years  of  separation.  There  are  slappings 
on  the  back,  hearty  welcomings,  immediate  offers  of  cigarettes : 
"Why,  old  man,  fancy  meeting  you  here!  What  have  you 
been  doing  all  this  time  ?  When  did  you  come  down  ?  Where 
are  you  off  to  ?  Are  you  doing  anything  to-night  ?  Capital ! 
Let 's  dine  together  and  go  to  a  play."  And  so  they  hook  arm- 
in-arm  and  away  they  go  together  as  if  the  whole  world  with  all 
its  hopes  and  pleasures  were  theirs.  The  town-bird,  even  when 
recently  fledged,  is  of  a  different  order.  Heaven  forgive  him, 


he  has  been  through  everything  and  seen  through  everybody; 
for  him  everything  is  vieux  )eu;  he  sees  no  more  in  life  than  Sir 
CHARLES  COLDSTBEAM  (I  think  it  was  he)  saw  in  the  crater  of 
Vesuvius,  and  he  passes  on  his  way,  a  parched  and  pleasureless 
being,  to  whom  the  world  is  as  flat  as  the  late  Mr.  HAMPDEN 
always  maintained  it  to  be.  Even  amongst  undergraduates,  I  be- 
lieve, this  pattern  has  its  imitators,  who  ape  the  man  of  the  world, 
attempt  to  disguise  themselves  in  a  mask  of  cynicism,  and  put 
away  from  them  forcibly  all  the  joy  and  freshness  and  heartiness 
of  youth.  These  are  the  youngsters — their  numbers,  I  am 
thankful  to  say,  are  few,  but  should  be  fewer — who  haunt  the 
pleasure-palaces  of  London  even  in  Term-time,  whose  highest 
ambition  is  to  be  mentioned  in  print  as  the  associates  of  Lais 
or  Phryne.  and  who  find,  when  the  unrelenting  years  have 
stranded  them  on  the  barren  shore  of  middle  age,  that  they 
have  never  been  young  or  enjoyed  themselves  with  a  genuine 
enjoyment.  Of  these  are  not  you.  No,  my  dear  JACK,  enjoy 
yourself  while  you  can,  and  don't  be  afraid  of  showing  your 
feelings.  It  is  a  great  thing  to  have  friends,  to  hear  their 
welcome  as  you  greet  them,  to  get  all  the  good  you  can  out  of 
this  delightful  world  and  all  that  it  contains  of  fresh,  manly, 
honest  pleasure  while  the  fresh  capacity  for  pleasure  is  still 
yours. 

You  say  nothing  in  your  letter  about  the  agreeable  Tatters. 
Am  I  to  make  provision  for  that  talented  terrier,  or  shall  you 
send  him  home  straight?  I  ask  because,  as  you  know,  a  large 
and  friendly  tabby  cat  in  reality  owns  this  house  and  all  that  it 
•ontains,  though  it  does  not  disdain  to  be  spoken  of  as  the 
property  of  the  landlady.  Selina  will  have  to  be  consulted  on 
the  subject  of  Tatters'  arrival,  and  it  is  probable  that  a  tempo- 
rary sanctuary  will  have  to  be  arranged  so  that  there  may  be 
no  collisions  on  the  staircase  or  in  the  passages.  Unlike  Tatters, 
Sdina  has  no  tricks.  She  is  a  model  of  furry  dignity,  with  an 
irresistible  affection  for  my  favourite  armchair. 

Goodbye.     Your  affectionate  uncle,  BOB. 

P.S.  Saturday,  3  P.M. — Oxford  has  won!  Having  delayed 
this  letter  in  order  to  ascertain  the  result  of  the  race,  I  suppose 
I  am  bound  to  condole  with  you  on  the  recent  loss !  Not  having 
seen  or  heard  of  or  from  you  in  London,  I  shall  confide  this 
letter  to  the  hall-porter  of  my  club,  where  I  have  no  doubt  you 
will  make  a  point  of  calling. 


1'UNCH,    OR   THK    LONDON  CHARIVARI.-  Ami.  10,  1897. 


THE   ELEPHANT   TRAP. 


APBII.  10,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVAIM. 


177 


THE    FIRST    ASPARAGUS    OF   THE    SEASON. 

Farmer  (at  Market,  Dinner).    "  WULL,  GIN'ELMEN,  I  DUNNO  WOT  BE  THB  C'RECT  WAY  o' 

8KRVIN'   THESE  'ERE,    BUT   I   GEN'BLLY   EATS  JUST  THE   ENDS   OF   'EM   MYSELF  !  " 

[Helps  himself  to  the  topi ! 


"ALONE  IN  LONDON." 

Do  calls  of  duty;  pleasure,  fate, 

Explain  the  situation  * 
Or  has  she  accepted — somewhat  late — 

J .  THOMSON'S  invitation  P  * 
I  know  not.    Knowledge,  after  all, 

My  woe  might  only  crown 
For  all  niy  pains — the  fact  remains, 

AMANDA  's  out  of  town  I 

Though  Fashion  is  a  tyrant  Queen, 

Her  rule  I  'm  now  evading — 
I  am  not  even  to  be  seen 

On  Sundays  church-parading! 
South  Kensington  may  rail  at  me, 

At  me  Belgravia  frown, 
No  more  I  rush  to  ball  and  crush — 

AMANDA  's  out  of  town ! 

At  social  functions  I  have  ceased 

To  form  a  pleasing  feature, 
For  quite  a  fortnight  at  the  least 

I  Ve  scarcely  seen  a  creature — 
Except  one  day  (we  met  by  chance) 

With  MAY  (I  mean  Miss)  BROWN 
I  'd  just  a  chat — no  more  than  that — 

AMANDA  's  out  of  town  I 

Far  lonelier  seems  my  lonely  room 

Than  ever  I  remember, 
For  me  the  sky  has  all  the  gloom 

Of  London  in  November. 
The  sun  shines  rarelier  than  it  used, 

The  rain  beats  steadier  down, 
The  streets  appear  more  dull  and  drear- 

AMANDA  's  out  of  town ! 


Even  the  theatres  for  a  while 

For  me  have  lost  their  magic, 
In  funny  plays  there 's  ne'er  a  smile, 

And  scarce  a  tear  in  tragic. 
A  novel  seems  more  hard  to  read, 

Black  care  more  hard  to  drown, 
The  old  club-bore  to  haunt  me  more — 

AMANDA  's  out  of  town  I 

Yet,  happy  thought!    A  maiden's  bow 

To  bear  two  strings  is  reckoned — 
Why  not  a  man's,  I  'd  like  to  know  Y 

By  Jove  I  I  '11  start  a  second  1 
This  very  afternoon  I  '11  go 

And  call  on  Mrs.  BROWN, 
And  while  (with  MAY)  an  hour  away — 

AMANDA  's  out  of  town  1 

*  "  Come,  dear  AMANDA,  quit  the  town,"  &c.,- 
an  invitation  given  a  Spring  or  two  ago. 


Organic  Appreciation. 

Mrs.  Bountiful  (after  hearing  the  new 
organ  at  the  village  church).  What  I  most 
admire,  Mr.  SIMPLEX,  are  the  wonderfully 
human  tones  of  the  mix  Vomica  stop  I 


NOTE  BY  DARBY  JONES. — "  It  is  the  first 
timo  in  my  long  experience  that  I  ever 
heard  of  a  HAWKE  protecting  pigeons.  In 
some  illogical  but  ornithological  way  the 
gentleman  in  question  reminds  me  of  a 
cuckoo  collecting  subscriptions  for  the  pre- 
servation of  the  nests  of  sparrows." 


THE    NEW    CHIVALRY. 

["It  U  nut u nil  that  women  ulioulll  admire 
tiguttr*.  Naturally  they  Uunk  more  of  a  man 
wno  van  ligut  trntu  ot  auy  oilier  nun." — John  L. 
buLii-un  on  the  Uorbett-t'ttUMHiiumt  t\yht.\ 

"  U,  WOMAN  1  in  our  hours  of  ease, 

U  ucortaiu,  coy,"  and — all  the  rent  of  it, 
When  man  is  on  bis  second's  knees, 

"lia  tuen  your  presence  makes  the  beat 

A  it. 
Once  wont  to  watch  in  battle's  rear, 

iSow   in   fight's   brawling,    brutal,    bully 

van 
You  ttiuid  and  shout,  dv*pi.-ni}i  fear — 

So  says  the  dithynunbic  SULIJVAN. 
CLAKK  s.it  and  gazed  o'er  if  lodden's  tight 

At  a  remote*,  respectful  distance. 
Mrs.  KITZSIMUONS  keeps  in  sight, 

And  renders  practical  assistance. 
1 .1  I/A,  on  the  wood-crowned  hill 

O'er  Lind«n,  watched  wild  war's  vicissi- 
tude, 
But  Mrs.  F.,  at  the  great  "mill," 

"Conducts  herself  with  great  solicitude." 
Oh,  sweet  romance  of  the  ring-side  I 

A  pugilist  must  feel  complacent, 
What  time  his  Amazonian  bride 

With  good  advice  is  "close  adjacent." 
Uow  that  Pug's  buzzuni  must  rejoice 

Who,  true  to  chivalry's  high  law  alone, 
Hears  bis  wife's  winning,  warning  voice, 

"Keep   at   his   ribs,   and   leave   his  jaw 

alone!!!" 
At  the  old  lists  the  ladies'  eyes — 

So  bards  who  hymn  the  tourney's  shocks 

sing — 
"  Rained  influence  and  adjudged  the  prize." 

Uow  different  in  modern  boxing  1 
"Tis  now  the  lady's  voice  that  rains 

Pithy  advice  in  free  vernacular, 
Urges  the  blow,  the  rush  restrains, 

At  once  inspiring  and  oracular. 
Fancy  Queen  UUINKVKRB  of  old, 

When  LANCELOT  levelled  for  a  casque-hit, 
Out-shouting  to  her  champion  bold, 

"Give  him  the  lance  in  the  bread-basket ! " 
"  A  pugilist  at  ARTHUR'S  Court " 

Would   give   MARK   TWAIN,    who   never 

cpareth, 
A  chance  to  show  a  Yankee  "  sport," 

Knocking  out  LANCELOT  and  UARETH. 
A  woman  loves  a  fighter  best ; 

ELAINE    would    now    back    BOB    FITZ- 

SIMMONS  ; 
King  ARTHUR'S  self,  put  to  our  test, 

Would     never     pass     our     standard — 

women's. 
The  Pug  is  now  the  Blameless  King 

Who  wins  the  modern  woman's  benison  ; 
And  it  is  "  Idylls  of  tlte  Ring  " 

Must    give    his    theme    to    our    next 
TKNNYSON. 


GOLD  IN  LIVERPOOL. 

THE    following    is    gleaned    from     the 
columns  of  the  Liverpool  Daily  Post:  — 

LOST,  Gold-headed  Lady's  UMBRELLA,  be- 
tween L.  and  Y.  Station  and  Sandheys  Avenue, 
Waterloo. — Return  to,  4c.  Suitable  reward. 
A  "suitable  reward"  is  all  very  well.  But 
what  reward  can  be  suitable,  in  the  sense 
of  being  adequate,  for  the  honest  man  or 
woman  who,  having  happed  upon  the 
umbrella  of  a  gold-headed  lady,  returns  the 
treasure  to  its  owner?  Mitt  Kilmansegg's 
leg  wasn't  in  it  with  this  strangely-gifted 
female. 


A  Great  Belief  on  Boat-race  Day. 

Little  Chris  (pointing  to  a  horse  with 
red  rosettes).  O,  Daddy  I  here  's  a  poor  gee- 
gee  what  wasn't  at  one  of  the  blue  schools  t 


178 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  10,  1897.- 


SENDING-IN-DAY    AT   THE    R.   A. 

"  BUT   IT   IS   IMPOSSIBLE  FOR  YOU  TO    SEE  THE  PRESIDENT.        WHAT  DO  YOU  WANT  TO  SEE 
HIM    FOR?"  "I   WANT  TO   SHOW   HIM   EXACTLY  WHERE   I   WANT  MY   PICTURE   HUNG."      • 


NOT  FOR  AN  AGE. 

(From  a  Dramatic  Romance  a  la  f-n-ro.) 

''  I  AM  so  glad  to  see  you,"  cried  the 
young  girl,  as  the  man  with  the  brown  hair 
tinged  with  grey  approached  her. 

"  Impossible  I  "  he  exclaimed,  and  there 
was  sorrow  in  his  voice.  "What  is  there 
in  common  between  us?" 

"  Everything,"  was  the  brief  but  com- 
prehensive reply. 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  he  continued,  with 
a  heartfelt  sob ;  "  indeed  you  are.  I  tell 
you  that  the  past  stands  between  us.  I 
am  an  outcast.  My  friends  that  I  have 
not  seen  for  many  months  are  no  more. 
I  am  alone.  The  years  that  are  gone 
have  carried  away  the  dreams  of  youth  and 
the  realities  of  middle  age." 

"  You  surely  take  a  pessimistic  view  of 
the  situation." 

"Indeed,  I  do  not!"  he  urged  mourn- 
fully. "  What  would  I  not  give  for  my 
past  youth !  If  I  were  three  years  younger 
there  might  be  some  hope.  But  no,  I  am 
too  old !  The  wings  of  the  elderly  butter- 
fly are  withered,  and  he  no  longer  can 
flutter  from  flower  to  flower." 

"  I  do  not  believe  it ;  I  cannot  believe  it." 

"  But  I  tell  you  it  is  true.  I  have  seen 
half-a-dozen  pantomimes,  and  can  remem- 
ber the  opera  for  as  many  seasons.  I  am 
out  of  d:xto.  Bond  Street  has  forgotten 
me,  and  I  scarcely  know  my  wav  down 
Piccadilly." 

"It  is  never  too  late  to  mend,"  said  the 
beautiful  girl,  encouragingly. 

"  Your  suggestion  comes  from  a  half- 
forgotten  copy-book.  No,  no,  it  can  never 
be.  All  my  companions  are  gone.  I  will 
follow  their  example.  I,  too,  will  away  to 
some  desert  island,  where  the  aged  can 
meet  their  peers.  I  live  in  the  past.  I 
have  no  power  of  existing  in  the  future." 

"  This  is  cruel,"  cried  the  girl,  sobbing 
bitterly.  "Can  you  not  see  that  I  am 
dying  for  your  proposal,  that  I  am  ready 
to  become  your  wife  ?  " 

"Believe  me,  such  a  thing  might  have 
happened  five  years  ago.  But  now  it  is 
too  late." 

"  Nothing  is  too  late — except  perhaps 
a  play  in  five  acts,  which  commences  at  a 
quarter  to  eight,  and  ends  at  about  half- 
past  eleven  !  "  Then,  summoning  up  cour- 
age, she  asked  the  momentous  question, 
"  How  old  are  you  ?  " 

He  trembled  in  every  limb.  Then  he 
braced  himself  up  to  go  through  the  ter- 
rible ordeal. 

"  You  should  know — for  I  must  disillu- 
sion you — that  I  am  a  fossil  of  thirty  !  " 

"  It  is  wiser  as  it  is,"  she  returned,  after 
a  pause.  "  Perhaps  May  had  better  not 
mate  with  Early  September." 

And  so  they  paited,  and  lived  on  happily 
for  ever  afterwards ! 


THE  EASTER  PROBLEM. 

Mater.  Well,  dear,  I  suppose  we  must  try  the  coast. 

Pater.  But  wouldn't  it  be  rather  dangerous — with  the  equi- 
noctial gales — for  the  children  ? 

Mater.  Yes,  i  suppose   it  would.     Well,   then  we   might   go 
inland — to  some  sheltered  spot. 

Pater.  Better;   but  then  the  country  is  so  dull  at  this  season 
of  the  year. 

Mater.  Yes,  so  it  is.     Well,  I  suppose  it  would  be  too  ex- 
pensive to  go  abroad  ? 

Pater.  What,  all  of  us !     Of  course  it  would ! 

Mater.  On  my  word,  I  can  think  of  nothing  else. 

Pater.  Well,  my  love,  while  you  are  making  up  your  mind  I 
will  pop  across  the  Channel  and  consider  the  matter  in  Paris. 

[And  he  does ! 


Up  to  Now. 

(After  reading  the  denunciations  oj  Arbitration  at  the  Capetown  Meeting, 
and  the  Amendments  made  to  the  Arbitration  Treaty  in  the  American 
Senate.) 

ARBITRATE  P    Yes,  about  indifferent  trifles, 

Not  so  important  as  to  warrant  war ; 
But  stick  to  the  old  arbiters,  swords  and  rifles, 
About  all  things  that  are. 


CURIOUS  COINCIDENCE. — While  London  is  concerned  over  the 
water  question,  Dublin  is  agitated  on  the  matter  of  whiskey. 
Might  not  the  two  be  amicably  mingled  in  the  good  old- 
fashioned  way? 

THE  BEST  "  FINANCIAL  RELATIONS." — Our  "  Uncles." 


AI-RII,  10,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVAKI. 


179 


RECIPROCITY. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — No  doubt  you  have  observed  that  the 
Chancellor  of  the  Diocese  of  London  has  decided  that  Governor 
BRADFORD'S  story  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  shall  be  banded  over 
to  tho  Ambassador  of  the  United  States.  Very  right  and 
proper,  and  possibly  other  records  of  historical  interest  to  our 
relatives  across  (lie  Atlantic  might  be  added  to  the  log  of  the 
Miitiflmrrr,  with  the  best  results.  For  instance,  could  not  that 
bill  for  SFIAKSPBARE'S  bed  bo  recovered  and  transmitted?  If  it 
were  receipted  (there  is  a  certain  virtue  in  the  "if")  it  is  wire 
to  have  been  preserved  somewhere.  Then  HAMPDEN'S  ticket  for 
America,  which  was  never  used,  might  be  discovered  and  for- 
warded with  the  rest.  Perhaps  it  would  be  too  much  to  send 
the  oricinnl  of  Magna  Charta,  but  there  is  (if  I  am  not  mistaken) 
a  capital  duplicate  at  Salisbury,  which  might  be  brightened  up 
a  bit  and  posted  to  Boston.  There  were  claims,  too,  against 
the  British  Government,  at  the  commencement  of  the  present 
century,  for  compensation  for  losses  incurred  during  the  War 
of  Independence,  by  the  Mandamus  Councillors  of  the  King. 
Mavhe,  if  these  were  duly  forwarded  to  Washington,  they  would 
he  honoured  in  a  fashion  beneficial  to  the  descendants  of  those 
misguided  Loyalists  who  preferred  GEORGE  the  Fanner  to 
<!F<IROB  of  the  Stars  and  Stripes.  Such  a  gift  would  be  some- 
thing of  a  set-off  to  the  Alabama  Claims  that  were  so  promptly 
honoured  in  this  country.  Lastly  (if  it  has  not  already  gone), 
could  we  not  send  out  the  kind  heart  of  the  great  British  nation  ? 
This  would  be  following  a  precedent  set  by  Sir  HENRY  IRVING. 

All  T  would  sugeest  in  return  for  these  simple  gifts  is  a  present 
of  a  fraternal  good  will,  an  article  which,  wherever  it  may  exist, 
is  certainly  not  to  be  found  in  the  American  Senate. 

I  remain,  JONATHAN'S  COUSIN  IN  ENGLAND. 


A  PROPOS  DE  BOTTBS. — At  a  meeting  of  "the  forward  move- 
ment" of  the  Women's  Vegetarian  Association,  it  was  said  that 
vegetarian  boots  would  shortly  be  on  sale.  Of  course  these  feet 
coverings  will  be  grown  on  boot-trees. 


MAKING    HISTORY. 

Young  Squire.    "AND  WHAT,   JOHN,   DO  YOU  INTEND  DOING  TO 

COMMEMORATE  HER   MAJKSTY's  GLORIOUS   REIGN?" 

The  "Oldest."  "OH,  I  SHALL  TRY  TO  KEEP  SOBER  A  WEEK!" 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  FROM  THE  DIAKY  OF  TOBY,  M.r. 

House  of  Commons,  Tuesday.  March  30, 
2  A.M. — Members  just  streamed  forth  from 
heated  air  into  cool  March  morning.  Un- 
like the  month  the  sitting,  coming  in  like  a 
lamb,  went  out  like  a  lion.  Ireland  to 
begin  with,  Ireland  for  once  almost  hys- 
terically unanimous.  Report  of  Royal 
Commission  on  Financial  Relations  appears 
to  promise  opportunity  of  getting  an  extra 
million  or  so  per  annum  out  of  the  imperial 
exchequer.  In  such  a  cause  what  Irishmen 
would  not  be  friends?  As  the  Lord  Mayor 
of  Dublin — who,  dressed  all  in  his  best, 
presented  at  bar  a  petition  in  favour  of 
readjustment  of  financial  relations  of  the 
two  countries — beautifully  said,  "Let  us, 
me  boys,  bury  the  hatchet  of  private  ani- 
mosity in  the  bosom  of  the  public  purse." 

BLAKE  presented  Ireland's  case  in  monu- 
mental speech.  A  sort  of  Whitaleer's 
Almanofk-evm-BwnktPi  Official  Intelli- 
iii'n/-'-.  Crammed  with  facts  and  figures; 
the  long  procession  ably  marshalled ;  the 
argument  forcefully  hammered  home  in 
lucent  language,  occasionally  ennobled  by 
simple  eloquence.  When  he  sat  down 
there  really  didn't  seem  anything  left  for 
anyone  else  to  say.  unless  it  were  the 
nionosyllabled  "  No "  by  CHANCELLOR  OF 
EXCHEQUER.  That  would  never  do  in 
House  of  Commons,  especially  in  debate 
on  Irish  subiect.  So  more  speeches  fol- 
lowed, all  of  length  commensurate  with 
BLAKE'S. 

Midnieht  mercifully  intervened  ;  Members 
instinctively  turned  their  thoughts  home- 
ward, but  not  their  steps.  Report  of 
Supply  next  order.  This  free  from  domina- 
tion of  Twelve  o'Clock  Rule  ;  debate  may 
go  on  as  long  as  there  are  forty  Members 
awake  to  keep  it  going.  PHILIP  STANHOPE, 


the  PHILIPPE  EOALITE  of  a  milder  century, 
flung  on  dying  embers  of  sitting  a  flask  of 
oil  fresh  from  Crete.  Instantly  they  blazed 
up,  filling  the  erewhile  sleepy  chamber  with 
fierce  flame  and  stifling  smoke.  PRINCE 
ARTHUR,  seething  with  righteous  wrath, 
protested  against  "  fragmentary,  inconclu- 
sive and  unsatisfactory  debates"  upon  a 
delicate  and  difficult  question.  JOHN  DIL- 
LON gave  new  Members  a  taste  of  his 


Rope-walking  extraordinary  by  Sir  £.  Cl-rke. 


quality  in  coercion  days.  GEOBGE  CURZON 
ran  amuck  at  gentlemen  below  Gangway 
opposite.  TIM  HEALY  long  resisted  tempta- 
tion to  associate  himself  with  anything 
partaking  of  the  character  of  a  free  fight. 
At  end  of  hour  and  half  was  dragged  in, 
and  soon  made  up  for  lost  time. 

A  lively  skirmish  presaging  the  pitched 
battle  that  can't  be  long  deferred. 

Business  done. — Mixture  of  Ireland  and 
Crete ;  taken  hot. 

Tuesday  night. — General  disposition  to 
regard  as  exaggerated  the  note  in  an 
eminent  Frenchman's  diary  of  his  visit  to 
an  English  country  house.  "  It 's  a  fine 
morning,"  he  represents  his  host  as  saying ; 
"let's  go  out  and  kill  something."  _ 

The  libel  finds  some  support  in  episode  in 
connection  with  occupation  of  Crete.  After 
taking  part  in  bombardment  of  blockhouse 
at  Malaxa  Admiral  HARRIS  felt  irresistible 
impulse  to  go  and  kill  something.  Turks 
forbidden ;  insurgents  for  the  moment 
quiet ;  someone  suggested  snipe.  So 
whilst  Europe  trembles  on  brink  of  war,  all 
its  capitals  throbbing  with  excitement,  the 
British  Admiral  goes  a  snipe-shooting. 
Would  never  have  heard  of  expedition  only 
for  fact  that  insurgents,  not  to  be  out- 
done in  activity,  tried  to  pot  the  Admiral 
on  returning  to  his  ship,  a  circumstance 
which  to  the  true  sportsman  lends  addition  1 1 
charm  to  snipe  shooting  in  Crete. 

Question  about  it  in  House  to-night. 
TIM  HEALY  puts  another,  which,  as  usual 
with  him,  goes  straight  to  the  point.  "  WiU 
the  Admiral  in  future,"  he  asks,  "confine 
himself  to  snipe  shooting  ?  "  GEORGE  CUR- 
ZON,  not  having  had  even  private  notice  of 
question,  does  not  feel  bound  to  answer  it. 
House  chuckled  with  delight  at  this  nros- 
pect  of  settlement.  Suppose  Admirals  of 
united  fleets  all  go  a  snipe-shooting,  leav- 
ing the  Cretans  to  settle  their  private  long- 
standing account  with  the  Turks? 


180 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  10,  1897. 


Debate  on  financial  relations  of  England 
and  Ireland  resumed.  Debate  perhaps  not 
proper  name  for  process.  It  is  the  reading 
or  reciting  of  long  essays.  EDWARD 
CLARKE,  not  to  be  quite  outdone  by  a 
gentleman  from  Canada,  spoke  for  an  hour 
and  three  quarters  against  BLAKE'S  two 
hours  and  ten  minutes.  A  pretty  spec- 
tacle, though  the  performance  a  little 
prolonged.  BLONDIN  in  his  prime  never 
so  neat  in  execution  as  EDWARD  CLARKE 
practising  on  the  tight-rope  of  Home  Rule, 
with  assistance  of  a  pole  weighted  .it  one 
end  with  "  Justice  to  Ireland,"  at  the 
other  with  "Unity  of  the  Empire."  So 
well  done  that  when  he  lightly  leaped  down 
and  bowed  acknowledgment  of  applause 


"Is  it  your  pleasure  that  leave  be 
given  ?  "  asked  the  SPEAKER. 

"  No,"  cried  the  guilty  Ministerialists. 

"  Yes,"  roared  a  full-throated  Opposi- 
tion. 

Challenged  for  supporters,  over  three 
score  Liberals  rose.  Leave  accordingly 
given.  SWIFT  M*cNEiLL  submitted  his 
case,  bringing  guilt  home  to  door  of  the 
doubly-absent  Minister.  Never  in  Parlia- 
mentary history  was  speech  so  effective. 
It  literally  paralysed  the  audience.  No  one 
rose  either  to  further  indict  or  to  attempt 
extenuation.  Nothing  to  be  done  but  to 
put  the  question,  and,  motion  for  adjourn- 
ment negatived,  House  proceeded  to  or- 
dered business. 


The  Piime  Minister  and  the  Secretary  of  State  for  Foreign  Affairs  take  an  (un-)"  Constitutional " 
together  in  the  South  of  France ! 


no  one  quite  knew  what  was  his  exact  posi- 
tion with  respect  to  Amendment  before 
House.  Business  done. — More  union  among 
Irish  Members.  New  reading  of  old  say- 
ing :  "  Union  is  Cash." 

Thursday.  —  SWIFT  MAONEILI,  strode 
down  to  House  to-day  full  of  fell  purpose. 
In  spite  of  occasionally  terrifying  attitude 
and  thunderous  voice,  he  is  one  of  the 
gentlest-hearted  men  in  the  world. 
Wouldn't  hurt  a  fly,  even  if  its  Saxon 
birth  stared  through  its  lucent  eyes  and 
betrayed  itself  in  the  movement  of  its 
tremulous  legs.  But  there  are  things 
which  pass  the  limits  of  fabulous  forbear- 
ance. The  MARKISS'S  absence  from  the 
United  Kingdom  just  now  is  one  such. 
If  he  were  merely  the  Premier,  'twere  bad. 
If  lie  were  solely  Foreign  Secretary,  'twere 
regrettable.  He  is  both,  a  Ministerial 
amalgam,  the  component  parts  forming 
most  indispensable  element  in  Cabinet. 

That  he  should  be  making  holiday  on  the 
Riviera  whilst  the  dogs  of  war  are  baying 
round  Crete  is  the  unpardonable  sin. 
SWIFT  MACNEILL  will,  at  whatever  cost  to 
private  feelings,  perform  a  public  duty.  So, 
questions  over,  he  rose,  asked  leave  to 
move  adjournment  in  order  to  discuss  as 
matter  of  urgent  public  importance  the 
absence  from  the  United  Kingdom  of  the 
PRIME  MINISTER  and  FOREIGN  SECRETARY. 


Painful  later  to  observe  surprise  on  faces 
of  crowd  of  Liberal  Members  who  had 
supported  demand  for  leave  to  move  ad- 
journment. Standing  Order  requires  that 
Members  approving  shall  rise  to  their  feet. 
Being  on  their  legs  in  token  of  their  burn- 
ing desire  to  hear  SWIFT  MACNEILL'S 
speech,  Members  walked  out,  coming  back 
after  brief  interval,  surprised  to  find  all 
was  over. 

Business  done. — The  MAHKISS  narrowly 
escapes  being  sent  to  the  Tower. 

Friday. — PRINCE  ARTHUR  entering  just 
now,  glanced  eagerly  at  Front  Opposition 
Bench,  scanning  it  in  vain  for  towering 
form  of  its  Captain.  SQUIRE  OF  MALWOOD, 
careful  for  a  life  dear  to  us  all,  wisely 
keeps  to  his  room  this  bleak  April  day. 
PRINCE  ARTHUR  urgently  wants  to  know 
how  about  that  Vote  of  Censure  ?  Nothing 
would  please  him  better  than  to  have  the 
glove  dashed  down.  Signs  on  the  horizon 
of  restlessness  among  his  own  men  at  news 
of  British  ships  taking  active  part  in 
league  with  fleet  coercing  Greeks  and 
firing  on  Cretans.  A  Vote  of  Censure 
would  close  up  their  ranks,  strengthening 
at  home  and  abroad  position  of  Ministry 
by  overwhelming  majority. 

"  Will  you  walk  into  my  parlour  P  "  says 
PRINCE  ARTHUR  to  the  SQUIRE. 

"  Perhaps,"  says  the  wary  SQUIRE.    "  By- 


and-bye.     But  you  must  really  allow  me  to 
choose  my  own  time  for  calling." 

Business  done. — In  the  absence  of  his 
esteemed  Leader,  SAGE  OF  QUEEN  ANNE'S 
GATE  endeavoured  to  raise  debate  on 
Crete.  Didn't  raise  it  much. 


THE  MILITIA  OFFICER'S  VADE  MEGUM. 

Question.  What  advantage  do  you  derive 
from  your  commission  as  a  commander  in 
"  the  old  constitutional  force  ?  " 

Answer.  The  satisfaction  of  feeling  that 
I  am  doing  my  best  to  secure  my  country 
from  invasion. 

Q.  Is  that  sentiment  universally  influen- 
tial ? 

A .  No ;  for  the  militia  is  sadly  in  need 
of  officers.  The  roll  is  no  less  than  700 
short  of  the  authorised  establishment. 

Q.  Leaving  out  of  the  question  your  con- 
science, do  you  obtain  other  satisfaction  ? 

A.  Scarcely  ;  unless  it  be  satisfactory  to 
be  sneered  at  by  the  regulars  and  jeered  at 
by  the  volunteers. 

Q.  Are  there  not  social  advantages  at- 
taching to  the  commission  of  a  Militiaman  ? 

A.  Undoubtedly.  It  is  a  qualification  for 
membership  to  the  Senior  Service  Clubs, 
but  as  the  elder  sons  go  into  the  reserve, 
and  the  younger  brothers  to  the  active 
battalions,  the  former  are  eligible  for  in- 
stitutions of  equal  distinction. 

Q.  You  can  put  your  rank  on  your  cards  ? 

A.  A  questionable  advantage,  as  the 
grade  should  be  accompanied,  to  avoid 
ridicule,  with  the  number  of  a  militia  bat- 
talion— a  reference  suggestive  of  amateur 
soldiering. 

Q.  Is  the  training  of  the  militia,  then, 
mere  child's  play  ? 

A.  Certainly  not;  as  a  battalion  man- 
ages to  get  through  more  genuine  hard 
work  in  twenty-seven  days  than  the  regu- 
lars do  in  a  quarter,  or  even  six  months. 

Q.  Is  this  fact  recognised  by  the  public 
and  the  Government  ? 

A.  The  public  know  nothing  about  it, 
and  the  Government  accept  it  officially, 
and  then  ignore  it. 

Q.  Does  not  a  commanding  officer  take 
a  pride  in  the  efficiency  of  his  militia  regi- 
ment? 

A.  If  he  does,  he  is  still  haunted  with 
the  knowledge  that  at  the  first  talk  of  war 
about  half  of  his  men  will  be  drafted  into 
the  active  battalion,  and  their  places  sup- 
plied by  raw  recruits. 

Q.  But  surely  he  should  be  pleased  to 
think  that  the  militia  is  the  nursery  of  the 
regular  army  ? 

A.  He  might  regard  the  reflection  with 
satisfaction  if  he  obtained  the  slightest  re- 
cognition of  his  patriotic  unselfishness. 

Q.  Speaking  as  a  patriot,  how  would  you 
fill  the  vacancies  in  the  commissioned  ranks 
of  the  militia  ? 

A.  By  causing  all  subalterns  to  pass 
from  "  the  old  constitutional  force "  into 
the  regulars,  and  sending  back  seasoned 
warriors  into  the  battalions  first  associated 
with  their  names  in  the  Army  Lift. 

Q.  Have  you  any  reason  for  believing 
that  this  scheme  is  the  best  possible  ? 

A.  Yes;  as  it  has  already  been  received 
with  general  approval  by  a  body  of  experts 
meeting  recently  at  the  Royal  United  Ser- 
vice Institution. 

Q.  Is  such  a  gathering  as  that  to  which 
you  refer  to  be  relied  on  for  sound  sense  ? 

A.  Unquestionably  ;  when  its  members 
are  permitted  to  speak  their  minds  without 
regard  to  the  opinions  officially  formulated 
in  Pall  Mall  or  at  the  Admiralty. 


Aran,  17,  1897.] 


ITNCH,    OR    TUP:    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


181 


TIME  HOES  SEEM  BO  LONG  WHEN  YOU'RE  WAIT-  i 

INi:    FOR   YOUR   WlFE,    WHO   IS   SHOPPING,        I 


THATMSOMETHING  OF  THE  ABOVE  OUGHT  BEALLY  TO  BE  STARTED  FOR  THE  POOR  HUSBANDS. 


MY  TEN-ACT  COMEDY. 

I  HAD  written  a  comedy.  In  my  opinion 
it  was  bright  and  sparkling.  I  am  a  very 
unprejudiced  person,  especially  where  my 
own  work  is  concerned.  I  had  sent  the 
manuscript  to  a  well-known  London 
manager,  feeling  pretty  confident  that 
it  would  be  accepted  without  much  hesita- 
tion. Imagine  then  my  surprise  and  an- 
noyance, when  the  play  came  back  with  a 
polite  intimation  that  it  was  not  thought 
suitable  for  the  Piccadilly  Theatre. 

"  There  must  be  some  mistake,"  said  I  to 
myself.  So  I  drove  to  the  theatre.  I  sent 
my  card  in  to  Mr.  JOHN  ASHBUBNHAM,  the 
manager,  and  in  less  than  five  minutes  was 
ushered  into  that  gentleman's  comfortable 
little  sanctum. 

"  I  have  never  had  the  pleasure  of  meet- 
ing you  before,  Mr.  WILLIS,"  he  said ; 
"lint,  if  I  remember  rightly,  you  have 
written  a  play." 

"  It  is  about  that  play  that  I  have  come 
to  see  you,"  I  said. 

"I  guassed  as  much,"  replied  Mr.  ASH- 
BWBNHAM.  "  I  always  make  a  point  of 
seeing  authors  when  they  call  upon  me — 
especially  unknown  authors,"  he  added, 
with  that  peculiarly  sweet  smile  which  has 
really  made  his  fortune  on  the  stage.  "And 
at  present  you  are  an  unknown  author,  are 
you  not  ?  " 

"I  am,"  I  answered,  with  quiet  dignity. 
"  The  comedy  which  I  submitted  to  you  a 
fortnight  ago  is  my  first  dramatic  work." 

By  this  time  we  had  settled  down  into 
two  comfortable  chairs,  and  I  thought  it 
better  to  bring  him  to  the  point. 

"  My  comedy  has  been  sent  back  to  me 
this  morning,"  I  remarked.  "  By  mistake, 
1  presume?  " 

"Oh!  no,"  he  answered,  gently;  "not 
by  mistake." 

I  looked  at  him  in  amazement.  "Do 
you  mean  to  tell  me,"  said  I,  "  that  it  is 
rejected  P" 

"'Returned'  is  a  softer  word,"  he  mur- 
mured. 

I  felt,  of  course,  intensely  indignant,  but 
I  managed  to  control  my  feelings. 

"  You  owe  me  an  explanation,"  I  said, 
very  quietly. 

"  You  shall  have  one,"  replied  Mr.  ABH- 
BVRNHAM.     "  Your  comedy  is  in  ten  acts." 
I  saw  what  he  meant.    1  had  not  written 
enough. 

"  I  could  make  it  fifteen,  if  you  wished,' 
I  said.  "Then  the  play  might  last  for  three 
nights.  Five  acts  a  night.  It  would  be  so 


good  for  business.  At  the  end  of  the  fifth 
act  the  stage  manager  might  come  in  front 
and  say,  '  To  be  continued  in  our  next.' " 

"  It  is  a  good  idea,"  said  Mr.  ASHBUBN- 
HAM.  "Now,  your  first  act  is  all  talk. 
Talk,  talk,  talk!" 

"  Naturally,"  I  replied.  "  Did  you  think 
[  meant  it  for  a  dumb-show  play  ?  " 

He  smiled.  "  Your  second  act  again  is 
talk— all  talk." 

"You  are  hypercritical,"  said  I.  "Does 
not  the  servant  in  the  second  act  bring  on 
a  box  of  toy  bricks  to  amuse  ALGERNON 
and  his  friends  ?  Grown  men  playing  with 
toy  bricks  after  dinner!  Was  there  ever 
such  a  delightful  incident !  " 

"  The  public  would  never  stand  it,"  said 
the  manager,  wearily.  "The  pit  and 
gallery  would  simply  howl." 

"And  then,"  he  added,  "you  introduce 
a  long  solo  on  the  bassoon  in  the  middle  of 
the  third  act.  Why,  that  would  stop  all 
the  action  of  the  piece." 

"  You  are  wrong,"  I  exclaimed ;  "  quite 
wrong.  At  that  point,  as  you  yourself 
must  admit,  the  action  of  the  piece  has 
not  yet  commenced.  The  action  cannot 
possibly  be  interrupted  when  it  has  not 
begun." 

"  There  is  some  truth  in  what  you  say," 
answered  Mr.  ASHBUBNHAM.  "Still,  if  you 
must  have  a  bassoon  solo,  I  should  have 
preferred  it  between  the  acts." 

"  But  you  have  not  noticed  my  brilliant 
satire,  and  my  sardonic  humour,"  I  urged. 
"That  is  true,"  said  the  manager;  "I 
have  not.  However,  I  have  noticed  that 
you  introduce  fifty-four  speaking  charac- 
ters into  your  play — 

"  All  good  parts,"  I  cried.  "  You  must 
allow  that." 

"  And  it  contains  just  plot  enough  for  n 
one-act  farce,"  he  added,  without  notirinj: 
my  interruption. 

"  Sudi  an  opportunity  for  costumes, 
isn't  it  ?  "  said  1. 

"  Yes ;  in  that  respect,  I  admit,  the  play 
is  distinctly  clever." 

"I  really  think  you  had  better  accept 
it,"  I  suggested. 

"Not  in  its  present  form,"  said  the 
manager.  "  You  still  have  something  to 
learn  about  the  art  of  dramatic  construc- 
tion." 

I  demurred. 

"Nay,  but  you  have  indeed,"  and  he 
smiled  again  that  fascinating  smile.  "Take 
Mr.  PINERO  as  your  model.  He  is  a  past- 
master  in  the  art  of  construction.  Buy  a 
copy  of  The  Magistrate,  and  study  that. 


Above  all  things,  let  your  play  have  a  plot. 
The  audience  generally  feel  more  interest 
in  a  play  when  it  has  a  plot.  Avoid  mere 
talk/  ' 

I  was  nearly  heartbroken,  and  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  I  could  repress  my 
emotion. 

"  Must  I  cut  out  my  brilliant  satire,"  I 
asked,  with  a  choking  sob,  "  and  my  sar- 
donic humour?" 

"Only  beginners  attempt  that  kind  of 
thing,"  said  Mr.  ASHBTTKNHAM.  "  Make 
PINERO  your  model.  Master  his  Magis- 
trate. Mould  yourself  upon  his  methods, 
and  then,  depend  upon  it,  you  will  never 
write  a  dull  play." 

I  am  going  to  take  Mr.  ASHBURNHAM'S 
advice.  I  have  put  my  ten-act  comedy 
into  the  fire ;  I  have  bought  a  copy  of  The 
Magistrate;  and  now  I  am  going  to  imi- 
tate Mr.  PINEJIO  to  the  very  best  of  my 
ability.  And  what  is  more,  I  intend  to  go 
next  week  to  the  St.  James's  Theatre,  and 
see  his  latest  piece,  The  Princess  and  the 
Butterfly.  I  hope  to  learn  a  great  deal 
from  that. 


AN  EXPLANATION. 

TELL  me  not,  sweet,  I  am  untrue, 

Or  fickle  is  my  roving  fancy, 
If  sometimes  I  have  sung  of  "  yon," 

Sometimes  of  PHYLLIS  or  of  NANCT  ! 

And  if  sometimes  my  pen  has  ranged 
To  celebrate  AMANDA'S  praises, 

Tell    those  who  'd    say    my    heart    has 

changed, 
Colloquially,  to  "go  to  blazes!" 

Or  bid  them  (if  you  like)  begone 

To  Jericho  or  far  Uganda — 
Only  believe  the  intent  is  one 

In  NANCY,  PHYLLIS,  and  AMANDA. 

Sweet  lady  mine,  they  're  all  the  same — 
Who    else    than    you    to    me    were 
sweeter  ? — 

The  change  is  only  in  the  name, 
Sometimes  required  by  rhyme  or  metre ! 


So  Near  and  yet  «o  Far. 

Dibbler  (to  Nibbler).  Going  away  for 
change  of  air  at  Easter? 

Nibbler.  Yes.  I  think  I  shall  try  Epping 
Forest  or  Hampstead  Heath. 

Dibbkr.  Well,  me  and  my  mate  is 
divided  between  Eel  Pie  Island  and  the 
|  Crystal  Palace. 


VOL.    CTII, 


182 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  17,  1897. 


THE      BOY     IN      CHARGE. 

Master  Curzon.      GOT  TO  STOP  IK  THE  OFFICE  WHILE  MASTER  's  ABROAD  TAKING  HIS  EASIER  HOLIDAY,  HAVE  I  ?    RATHER  FAXCY 
MYSELF  ix  MASTER'S  TOGGERY!    QUITE  THE  PRIME  MINISTER!" 

[Rt.  Hon.  GEORGE  N.  CURZON,  M.P.,  Parliamentary  Under-Secretary,  is  on  duty  at  the  Foreign  Office  during  absence  of  the  PRIME  MINISTER.! 


,  17,  1897.] 


I'CNCH,    oil    TI1K    LONDON    ('IIAIMVAIM. 


183 


• 


MARKET-DAY    HUMOURS. 

Local  Humourul  (pointiay  tu  hoary  rfteran).   "I  ZAY,  MISTER  AUCTIONEER,  DO  THIC  SIGNIFY  TH'  Ao«  o'  THAT  PBOl 


THE  1WO  "M'S." 

SCKNB—  The  Shades.  Great  English  Admiral 
and  great  French  General  discovered  in 
conversation. 

Admiral  (after  glancing  at  a  newspaper) . 
Really  most  gratifying.  In  spite  of  what 
they  said  in  the  House  of  Commons,  I  am 
very  pleased  to  find  that  I  was  represented 
as  a  model  of  virtue  at  the  Avenue. 

General.  By  Mr.  FORBES  ROBERTSON  ? 
Yes,  certainly. 

Admiral.  And  they  treated  me  fairly  well 
at  the  Olympic,  too.  I  came  down  all  the 
way  to  Deal  to  be  embraced  by  the  fiancee 
of  a  common  sailor;  conducted  a  court- 
martial,  acting  as  witness,  prosecutor, 
counsel  for  the  defence,  and  ultimately  as 
judge  ;  and  finally,  to  comply  with  tradi- 
tion, desired  when  dying  to  be  kissed  by  a 
Kontloinan  whoso  11:11110  was  apparently 
'AiMiv,  without  the  aspirate.  Altogether  a 
very  pleasant  evening. 

(li'nrral  (gloomily).  Ah!  you  have  been 
lucky  always,  but  I  hare  ever  been  un- 
fortunate— in  England.  At  Astley's — once 
popularly  known  as  "  Hash  ley's  " — I  used 
to  share  a  horse  with  WELLINGTON — which 
was  ridiculous!  And  then  there  was  the 
late  Mr.  JACKSON.  He  was  clerer;  he  was 
well  made  up.  But  did  he  suggest  my 
glory  ?  Did  he  present  me  as  a  conqueror  '< 
No  ;  he  only  showed  me  taking  snuff ! 

.1  >f  ultra/.  Well,  on  my  word!  Talk  of  in- 
gratitude! Well,  I  never! 

(Ifnrral.  I  do  not  comprehend. 

Admiral.  Why,  man  alive!  Say  that  you 
are  not  appreciated!  Why,  ham  you  seen 
the  programme  at  the  Lyceum  ? 

General.  No.  Since  I  was— what  is  your 
expression  ? — taken  round  the  halls,  I  have 


lost  all  sympathy  with  the  drama.  And  am 
I  really  to  be  seen  in  Wellington  Street? 

.Id  ininil.  I  should  rather  think  you  were ! 
Why,  HENRY  IKVINQ  appears  for  you  every 
evening. 

General  (greatly  relieved  and  delighted). 
HENRY  IRVING!  My  character  could  not 
be  in  better  hands ! 

[Congratulations  become  mutual  as  the  Shades 
fade  away. 


SCENTS   VERSUS  SENSE. 

[Dr.  I,.  ROHINSOX,  in  Blackwood'i,  deduces 
tin1  development  of  UIHII'I  intellectual  facultier 
from  the  restricted  sense  of  smell  in  hi*  pi  inieval 
ancestors.] 

DK.  ROBINSON  says  that  mankind  has  done 

well 
Kvor  since  it  "restricted"  its  "fine  sense 

of  smell." 

Our  reasoning  powers  are  based  on  the  fact 
That  "olfactory  shortcomings"  led  us  to 

act 

Upon  ocular  evidence  rather  than  nasal. 
These     subtle     deductions    the     intellect 

dazzle. 
When  man  was  arboreal,  and  lived  "  up  a 

tree." 

He  found  it  less  useful  to  scent  than  to  see. 
And  when  he  descended  and  dwelt  in  a  hut, 
His  optics  grew  wide,  though  his  nostrils 

got  shut. 
When  men  could  depend,  not  on  noses,  but 

wits, 
From  hunters  they  soon  became  civilised 

cits. 
And  there,  if  you  understand  ROBINSON, 

you  see 

The  history  of  civilization  in  nuce. 
Aha!    It  is  perfectly  clear,  I  suppose, 


Man  was  savage  and  silly  whilst  "  led  by 

the  nose." 
It  was  I  In.-,  maxim  made  him  so  wise  and  so 

strong :  — 
"If  you  follow  your  nose  you  are  sure  to 

go — wrong  I  " 


THE  VERSATILITY  OF  MODERN  ART. 

Editor  of  Illustrated  Journal  (to  aspi- 
rant for  position  as  Special  Artist  and 
Correspondent).  I  understand  that  you 
have  a  world-wide  experience  ? 

Aspirant.  You  may  bet  on  that.  At 
the  present  moment  I  'm  doing  Crete,  the 
Venezuela  Commission,  the  Greek  Frontier, 
the  Centenary  of  the  first  German  Kmperor, 
the  Oxford  and  Cambridge  Boatrrace,  and 
the  Brigade  Steeplechases, — all  sketches 
signed.  I  can  also 

Editor  (warmly).  Say  no  more,  my  dear 
Sir,  consider  yourself  engaged.  Would 
you  kindly  commence  on  the  Indian 
Famine,  and  KRUOER  dismissing  his  grand- 
son, to-morrow  ? 

"Water,  Water  everywhere,  and  not 
a  drop  to  drink." 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  see  that  the  new 
Thames  Steamboats,  or  rather  the  old 
Thames  Steamboats,  re-painted,  are  to  be 
"  run  on  temperance  principles."  Never 
having  been  on  a  Thames  Steamboat  which 
could  oy  any  stretch  of  imagination  be  said 
to  run,  I  should  be  very  much  obliged  if 
you  could  determine  whether  the  "  running 
on  temperance  principles  "  means  the  adop- 
tion of  some  fresh  and  powerful  hydraulic 
method  of  propulsion  :J  Yours  curiously, 
WILFRID  NIHIU.KI  me  K. 

Waterbutt  House,  Peckham. 


184 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  17,  1897. 


"  DADDY,   AS  YOU  'VE  GOT  TO  GET  A  NEW  MUZZLE  FOE 
HADN'T  WE  BETTEK  KEEP  HIS  OLD  ONE  TILL  TINY  GROWS  UP?" 


AUGUSTE  EN  ANGLETERKE. 
LONDON. 

DEAR  MUSTEK, — In  face  the  dragon  at  the  entry  of  the  City — 
that  dragon  of  pantomime  to  make  to  die  of  to  laugh — finds 
himself  an  all  other  monument,  an  edifice  of  the  most  lugubrious, 
the  Palace  of  Justice.  The  fafade  is  one  can  not  more  gothic 
and  severe,  and  the  tower  is  suchly  heavy  and  menacing  that 
one  forgets  almost  the  gaiety  of  the  dragon  at  the  middle  of  the 
street.  The  Conciergerie  at  Paris  is  of  the  same  style,  equally 
sombre,  but  she  was  anciently  a  prison.  Our  Palace  of  Justice 
to  us  is  not  as  the  yours.  Nor  the  one  nor  the  other  is  as  great 
as  the  Palace  of  Justice  at  Brussels.  "  Savez-vous,"  as  say  the 
brave  Belgers,  they  can  to  vaunt  themselves  la-bas,  there  low, 
of  an  edifice  of  the  most  enormous.  Savez-vous,  he  takes  a 
cake,  as  say  the  English.  But,  savez-uous,  he  has  cost  to  them 
almost  as  much  as  their  State  of  the  Congo  I 

A  mister  of  my  acquaintance  has  told  me  that,  at  place  of  to 
mount  to  the  public  galleries  in  your  Palace  of  Justice,  a  man 
in  hat  high  of  form  can  to  pass  the  agents  of  police  at  the  door 
if  he  marches  all  right,  tout  droit,  and  that  he  has  the  air  very 
occupied  and  very  pressed.  I  do  as  that  one  certain  morning, 
and  I  arrive  without  difficulty  to  the  Hall  of  Lost  Steps. 

There  is  not  there  anyone!  Quells  salle  enorme,  absolument 
deserte  !  Salle  des  Pas  Perdus  ?  Us  ne  sont  pas  perdus,  il  n'y  a 
pas  de  pas,  perdus  ou  non  pas  perdus.  In  fine  I  perceive,  at 
the  end  of  the  immense  hall,  one  sole  man,  evidently  a  com- 
missioner. Quel  edifice,  grand  comme  une  cathedrale,  pour 
abnter  un  seul  commissionnaire !  He  is  probably  one  of  the 
Commissioners  of  the  National  Debt.  I  have  heard  to  speak  of 
them.  The  hall  has  cost  too  much  dear,  and  he  is  that  which 
one  calls  "  the  man  of  possession  "  who  represents  the  creditors 
of  the  nation. 

Then  at  side  I  perceive,  on  a  species  of  etiquette,  the  names 
of  several  courts.  It  is  at  the  entry  of  a  tunnel.  My  friend 
has  counselled  me  of  to  advance  without  to  hesitate.  Therefore 
I  enter  immediately  in  the  tunnel.  For  the  moment  I  believe 
myself  in  the  Railway  under  Ground.  However,  at  the  end  of 


an  instant  I  perceive  the  feeble  glimmer  of  a  beak  of  gas,  and, 
tatonnant  in  the  obscurity,  I  encounter  all  suddenly  the  wall  in 
face,  actually  at  the  end  of  the  nose.  Then  searching  still  I 
find  that  I  can  to  advance  at  side,  and,  marching  thus  with  some 
infinite  precautions,  I  hear  the  noise  of  a  fall. 

I  arrest  myself.  The  moment  of  after  something  rolls  at  my 
feet.  I  search  my  carry -matches,  and  lighting  a  match  while 
the  object  lifts  himself  I  see  a  fat  mister,  tout  ensouffle,  who  is 
fallen  in  descending  a  spiral  staircase  of  whom  I  perceive  the 
first  marches.  If  I  were  not  actually  in  the  Palace  of  Justice  of 
the  free  England,  country  of  the  "  Habeas  Corpus  Bill,"  I  should 
believe  myself  in  au  oubliette  of  a  middle-aged  castle.  At  the 
least  I  am.  arrived  by  error  in  the  caves,  in  the  subterraneans, 
of  the  Palace.  But  no !  The  fat  mister,  having  refound  his  hat 
and  his  umbrella,  at  the  aid  of  some  onea  of  my  matches,  ex- 
plicates to  me  that  all  the  staircases  are  as  that.  And  suspecting 
probably  that  I  am  stranger,  he  counsels  me  of  not  to  essay  an 
ascension  so  dangerous.  Then  he  disappears  in  the  obscurity. 

Que  faire?  I  must  to  essay  it.  Lighting  still  some  matches 
I  mount  the  staircase  very  slowly  and  very  carefully,  and  in 
fine  I  arrive  at  the  summit  where  finds  herself  an  all  little 
window,  a  veritable  "loop-hole."  For  the  first  time  I  can  to 
admire  the  matches  of  my  country!  Man  Dieu!  II  faut  se 
servir  d'allumettes  franfaises  pour  monter  I'escalier  du>  Palais  dt 
Justice  de  I' Angleterre  ! 

Eh  well,  I  arrive  in  a  narrow  corridor,  also  very  sombre,  but 
I  can  to  see  a  small  Little,  un  petit  peu.  I  find  there  much  of 
world,  entering  and  coming  out  of  the  doors  all  the  long  of  the 
corridor.  Me  I  go  to  enter.  I  push  one  of  the  doors,  who 
shuts  herself  behind  me.  I  find  myself  in  complete  obscurity, 
surrounded  of  a  curtain.  Not  only  that,  but  someone,  perhaps 
essaying  of  to  go  out,  attacks  me  from  the  other  side  of  the 
curtain,  marches  on  my  feet,  hits  me  on  the  chest,  and  smashes 
my  hat.  In  this  terrible  moment  another  invisible  assailant 
crushes  me  in  opening  the  door.  Enveloped  of  the  curtain, 
incapable  of  to  defend  myself,  suffocated,  smashed,  I  push  a  cry 
of  anguish,  and  I  lance  a  good  blow  of  foot  in  before.  Quel 
Palais  de  Justine!  Un  veritable  coupe-gorge!  Un  guet-apens 
du,  moyen  age !  On  se  croirait  dans  les  cachots  de  I'ancienne 
Venise!  But  I  will  die  in  hero!  I  will  combat  until  the  death  I 

I  essay  of  to  disengage  myself  the  arms,  for  better  to  defend 
myself,  and  I  cry  at  high  voice,  "Au  secours!"  From  the  other 
side  of  the  curtain  a  voice  responds  "  Silence !  "  and  I  hear  some 
murmurs.  By  blue  I  Are  they  then  some  savages,  who  will 
leave  me  to  perish  as  that?  The  curtain  covers  me  the  mouth, 
I  respire  at  pain,  and,  making  all  my  efforts,  I  push  violently 
in  arrear,  en  arriere.  The  door  yields  suddenly,  and  I  fall  out- 
side in  the  arms  of  a  commissioner. 

Unuseful  to  demand  help,  unuseful  to  explicate  to  him  all  the 
affair,  unuseful  of  anything  to  say!  In  vain  I  demand  the 
arrestation  of  my  assailants,  in  vain  I  proclaim  myself  a  citizen 
of  the  French  Republic!  He  says  me  only,  "Are  you  a  wit- 
ness ?  "  "  No,"  I  respond  to  him  furious,  "  I  see  not  anything. 
Enveloped  of  a  curtain,  it  would  be  impossible.  I  demand — 
"  Thennoutchougo,"  interrupts  he,  and  I  am  forced  of  to  go 
myself  of  it  by  the  corridor,  by  the  staircase  so  dangerous,  and 
by  the  tunnel  to  the  Hall  of  Lost  Steps,  and  in  fine  to  the  street. 

As  that,  Mister  Punch,  I  see  but  very  little  of  your  Palace  of 
Justice.  But  I  shall  go  perhaps  one  other  time,  accompanied 
of  an  English  friend,  grand  amateur  de  la  boxe,  who  would  could 
to  defend  me.  Agree,  &c.,  AUGUSTE. 

Little  Eloff. 

WHEN  little  ELOFF,  full  of  spite  and  spleen, 
Presumes  to  splutter  at  our  gracious  QUEEN, 
The  world  replies  with  universal  scoff, 
And  Echo  answers  little  ELOFF — Off .'.'.' 

A   Question  of  Headgear. 

Mrs.  Giniper  (to  Mrs.  RUMBOLD,  at  the  "  Cat  and  Candle- 
stick")!. Wot 's  the  matter,  MARIA?  You  look  as  'ow  you'd 
bin  cryin'l 

Mrs.  Rumbold.  Cryin'  1  So  would  you  'ave  bin  if  jest  as 
you  're  a-goin'  to  buy  yourself  a  spring  'at  hout  comes  a  Royal 
border  makin'  yer  get  a  new  bonnet  for  the  dawg  I 

Bluff. 

One  Leader.  Strike,  if  you  dare  1     That 's  the  way  among  men, 
sure ! 

Why  don't  you  tread  on  the  tail  of  my  coat  ? 
The  Other.  Yah!     What  you  'd  like  is  a  Vote  of  Censure— 

We'd  like  to  censure  without  the  Vote. 


APRIL  17,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CIIAIMVAIM. 


185 


UNDER  CONTROL  AGAIN ! 

(Extracted  frum  the  Diary  of  «  <S'«i/  iJmj. ) 

TBUUOHT  there  waa  something  wroug  when  I  got  up.  Trilby, 
who  understands  human  talk  butter  than  I  do,  was  pretty  cheer- 
ful— and  that  waa  a  bad  sign.  How  I  do  hatu  that  cat  I  Then 
M.I  I,T  HuuiY  was  very  angry  because  he  couldn't  find  some- 
tiling,  lie  went  out  without  me.  That  was  in  the  morning. 
But  in  t lu'  alt  fi-mion  he  had  evidently  got  what  he  wanted.  He 
called  mi1,  and  I  caiue  up  as  fresh  as  paint.  Thought  1  might 
havu  a  chance  of  showing  my  enemy  the  butcher-boy  what's 
what.  A  little  late,  but  perhaps  might  catch  him  outside  the 
shop.  But  to  my  horror  1  found  that  the  article  whose  loss  hac 
caiiM-il  Master  HARKY  so  much  annoyance  in  the  earlier  part  ol 
the  day  was  no  less  a  thing  than  my  muzzle !  I  don't  like  using 
bad  language — even  in  dog-latin — but  cuss  it  I  However,  there 
was  nothing  to  be  done.  I  pretended  that  I  had  outgrown  it. 
Hut  it  was  no  good.  Master  HARRY  got  it  over  my  head,  am. 
although  I  tried  rubbing  it  against  a  Tamp-post  and  the  Square 
railings  I  could  not  get  it  off.  Beastly  thing !  Enough  to  drive 
one  mad.  However,  in  course  of  time  I  think  I  shall  be  able  to 
work  my  mouth  through  it,  and  then  I  will  square  accounts  with 
the  butcher-boy.  Of  course  now  wanted  to  avoid  him.  Wit  I 
my  usual  bad  luck,  came  across  him  delivering  a  leg  of  mutton 
to  No.  76  in  our  Square.  He  grinned  like  a  baboon  (idiot  I) 
when  he  saw  my  muzzle.  Then  he  whistled.  His  whistling 
always  makes  me  wild  I  Did  as  much  barking  as  I  could  with  my 
jaws  in  straps.  Brute  of  a  boy  seemed  rather  pleased  than 
otherwise.  Didn't  enjoy  my  walk  one  bit,  although  Master 
II Aiiuv  took  me  into  St.  James's  Park,  where  I  generally 
manage  to  chivy  the  ducks.  But  on  this  occasion  they  seemed 
to  be  turning  up  their  beaks  at  me.  Evidently  thought  I  had 
been  muzzled  for  some  crime — possibly  for  taking  something 
from  the  larder.  Aa  if  I  would  be  capable  of  such  meanness : 
Leave  that  sort  of  thing  to  Trilby,  who,  when  anyone's  back  is 
turned,  stealthily  laps  up  the  milk.  So  came  home  with  my 
muzzle  on  my  head  and  my  tail  between  my  legs.  Trilby  said 
that  she  thought  the  London  County  Council  were  quite  right. 
So  I  suppose  it 's  to  that  meddling  body  I  owe  my  loss  of  free- 
dom. Wish  I  could  get  at  them  1  Still,  I  find  that  I  may  go 
free  in  the  house.  Well,  that's  a  comfort  at  any  rate.  Buttons 
had  better  be  on  his  best  behaviour  I  And  then  I  can  have  some 
fun  with  the  handy-man.  I  always  refuse  to  recognise  him. 
pretend  to  take  him  for  a  burglar,  and  treat  him  accordingly  1 
So  if  I  cannot  amuse  myself  out  of  doors,  I  can,  at  any  rate, 
find  rational  recreation  at  home.  And  now  I  must  stop,  as  I  see 
that  the  handy-man  has  a  large  picture  in  his  hands  on  the  top 
step  of  a  ladder.  It  will  be  a  real  treat  to  have  a  good  bark  and 
perhaps  a  bite  without  the  bother  of  a  muzzle  1 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

MB.  HENRY  FROWDB  lays  at  the  feet  of  his  Sovereign  the 
tribute  of  a  Diamond  Jubilee  Bible  and  Prayer  Book.  The 
volumes  are  produced  in  the  perfection  of  style  and  work- 
manship that  marks  the  Oxford  University  Press.  The  Bible 
contains  two  portraits,  one  a  reproduction  of  a  picture  of 
the  girl-Queen  as  she  looked  forth  from  the  recesses  of  a  charm- 
ing poke-bonnet  in  the  first  year  of  her  reign.  The  other  is, 
apparently,  the  latest  photograph  taken  of  the  venerable 
Sovereign.  The  volume  is  further  enriched  by  reproductions  of 
the  cartoons  painted  by  Sir  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS  in  1778  for  the 
window  of  New  College,  Oxford.  There  are  two  other  portraits 
of  the  QUEEN  in  the  Prayer  Book,  one  taken  from  a  painting  by 
AGI.AIO  about  1837,  the  other  a  recent  photograph.  In  both  she 
is  presented  standing,  crowned,  and  wearing  her  robes  of  State. 
But,  my  Baronite  wntes,  between  the  two  Bes  the  long  journey 
of  sixty  years. 

The  Hook  of  Parliament,  by  MICHAEL  MACDONAOH  :  IMUSIKU 
&  Co.),  is  a  masterpiece  of  compendious  information.  It  tells  in 
lucid  manner  everything  that  may  be  known  about  the  Constitu- 
tion and  Procedure  of  Loth  Houses  of  Parliament.  Considering 
the  mass  of  detail  dealt  with,  and  the  amount  of  information  con- 
veyed, the  range  of  accuracy  attained  is  remarkable.  My  Baronite 
observes  only  one  error  in  date,  and  that  is  probably  a  misprint.  A 
more  serious  blemish  is  misquotation  of  what  Mr.  MAoDoNAOH 
calls  "  the  famous  saying  of  Lord  ROSEBERY,"  privily  addressed 
to  my  Baronite  immediately  after  the  fall  of  the  Ministry  in 
1895.  In  A  Diary  of  the  Home  Rule  Parliament  the  text  will 
be  found  to  run  thus  :  — "  There  are  two  supreme  pleasures  in 
life.  One  is  ideal,  the  other  real.  The  ideal  is  when  a  man 
receives  the  seals  of  office  from  the  hands  of  his  Sovereign.  The 
real  pleasure  comes  when  he  hands  them  back."  Lord  ROSEBERY 
is  such  a  master  of  phrase  thai*  we  cannot  have  his  gems  reset 


DOESN'T    SOUND    NICE. 


His  Setter  Half.  "Now,  EDWIN,  ABOUT  THE  QUKBN'S  PROCESSION. 

DID  YOU  GET  THE   BEST   PLACE  YOU   COULD   FOR  ME  I"  • 

Her  Lard  and  Master.  "YES,  MARIA  JAM,   I   DID.     IT'S— IT'S  IN 
Sr.  CLEMENT'S  CHURCHYARD  !  " 


by  other  hands.     As  Mr.  MACDONAOH  does  not  quote  the  autho- 
rity he  probably  gives  the  marred  quotation  at  second  band. 

(Signed)  Tm  BABON. 


SUGGESTION    FOR    THE    R.A. 

6,  The  Studios,  «.  John's  Wood,  N.  W. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH. — The  R.A.  having  once  more  rejected  all 
my  eight  pictures,  I  think  it  high  time  that  steps  should  be 
;ik>'ii  to  cneck'  the  tyrannical  conduct  of  this  autocratic  body. 
[t  is  an  axiom  now  generally  accepted  (by  "  The  Studio "  set) 
that  the  better  the  picture  the  less  chance  it  has  of  being  ac- 
cepted; the  reason  being  this,  that  the  R.A.'s  are  naturally 
afraid  to  admit  any  canvases  that  might  eclipse  their  own. 
'  Which  of  the  Forty,"  says  my  wife,  standing  before  her 
portrait  as  "  T>esdemona "  (15ft.  by  22),  "which  of  the  Forty 
could  have  painted  that  f  "  And  I,  looking  sadly  at  my  master- 
lictv,  can  only  shake  my  head  and  echo,  Which?" 

I  nave  borne  it  lone  enough,  Mr.  Punch.  Mrs.  ROSE-MAD- 
DER'S wardrobe  is  reduced  to  the  lay-figure's  shroud,  while 
"ittle  TITIAN'S  knickers  would  hardly  pass  muster  as  eale^om. 
Oiis  state  of  things  is  so  obviously  unjust  that  it  cannot  cpn- 
;inue,  and  I  therefore  beg  that  you  will  assist  me  in  giving 
mblicity  to  the  following  resolutions  which  were  passed  this 
ifternoon  at  a  mass-meeting  of  "The  Studios." 

I.  That  the  present   President  and  Council  of  the  R.A.  be 
ibolished. 

II.  That  a  new  President  and  Council  be  appointed. 

HI.  That  the  said  new  Council  consist  of  and  be  solely  selected 
rom  "The  Studios" 
IV.  That  the  said  new  President  be 

Your  obedient  Servant,        PEROT  ROSE-MADDER. 


186 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  17,  1897. 


-  '-/. 


"  LAUDATOR    TEMPORIS    ACTI." 

Mrs.  Ghoul.      AH,  FUNERALS  ISN'T  WHAT  THEY  USED  TO  BE  IN  MY  TIME  !    I  RECOLLECT  WHEN  WE  'AD  "AM  SANGWISHES  AXD 
SHEBRY  WINE  ;  BUT  NOW  IT  's  AS  MUCH  AS  YOU  CAN  GET  A  BIT  o'  CAKE  AND  A  CUP  o'  TEA.     An  ! " 


SIR  WALTER'S  WAY. 

"  Self-praise  is  no  recommendation." 

Old  (and  obiolete)  Pnterb. 
["  Sir  WALTER  BBSANT  discloses,  in  the  Corn- 
hill,  a  grave  national  weakness.  Englishmen  do 
not  make  enough  of  patriotic  sentiment.  .  . .  The 
Americans  have  two  days  of  patriotic  uplifting,  and 
we  have  not  one."— Daily  Chronicle.] 

BREATHES  there  a  man  with  soul  so  dead 
Who  never  to  himself  has  said. 
This  is  my  own,  my  native  land, 
The  rich,  the  dominant,  the  grand  ? 
Whose  heart  hath  ne'er  within  him  burned 
As  Russ  he  flouted,  Boer  he  spurned, 

And  all  the  band  of  "foreigners"  banned  f 
Found  all  the  virtues  bound  in  British  ; 
Called  Teutons  rude   and  Frenchmen  skit- 
tish ; 

Dubbed  Austrian  rude,  Italian  cranky, 
And  saw  the  yahoo  in  the  Yankee  ; 
Traced  nothing  good,  great,  brave,  wise, 

glorious, 

Save  in  Old  England  the  victorious  ? 
If  such  there  be,  let  him  not  falter, 
Or  with  his  patriotism  palter, 
But  go  at  once  to  good  Sir  WALTER  1 
He  '11  teach  him  wisely,  coach  him  well, 
And  make  his  manly  bosom  swell 


With  any  number  of  fine  stories 
Concerning  Britain's  gains  and  glories  ; 
Will  make  him  recognise  with  glee 
"  Our  racial  supremacy  "  ; 
Show  the  solution  of  earth's  riddle 
Is  "  England  playing  the  first  fiddle  "  ; 
That  "  Days  of  patriot  uplifting 
Are  indispensable  for  gifting 
The  modest  Briton  with  a  sense 
Of  his  own  super-eminence. 
BULL  is  so  mighty  and — what's  oddest — 
So  most  preposterously  modest, 
High  though  his  titles,  proud  his  name, 
Boundless  his  wealth  aa  wish  can  claim, 
He  will  forget,  in  chase  of  pelf, 
To  worship  earth's  great  god — Himself ! 
He  does  not  know  his  own  renown 
As  wisdom's  top  and  valour's  crown. 
But  now  Sir  WALTER  has  well  hit  on 
A  scheme  to  make  the  foolish  Briton, 
By  "  patriotic  sentiment," 
With  his  high  merits  more  content ; 
He  '11  praise  himself  in  style  not  cursory, 
But  start  a  National  Anniversary, 
Wherein,  by  his  own  matchless  tongue, 
His  dominance  mankind  among 
May  be  more  adequately  sung ! 
And  then,  O  gracious  heaven  above  us, 
How  the  whole  universe  will  love  us  I !  I 


WHO  WROTE  THIS? 

THE  following  postcard  was  picked  up 
near  our  office  on  Tuesday.  Unfortunately 
the  address  and  signature  are  illegible  :  — 

"  DEAR  SIR, — In  reply  to  your  well- 
meant  and,  as  I  deem  it,  indiscreet  ques- 
tion, 'Should  Greece  be  blockaded?'  I  can 
only  say  that  it  is  quite  without  the  possi- 
bilities of  a  private  person  to  gauge  with 
accuracy  the  conditions  of  the  situation  in 
Eastern  Europe.  Nor  is  it  within  the 
scope  of  one,  who  has  retired  into  purely 
philosophical  studies,  to  determine  the 
balance  which  hangs  between  the  Hellenes 
and  the  so-called  Great  Powers.  At  the 
same  time  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying 
that  the  traditions  of  Marathon  must  be 
maintained,  and  that  some  remembrance  of 
Salamis  should  act  as  a  preventive  to 
further  aggression  on  the  part  of  nations 
possessing  no  qualification  for  attempting 
the  'duties  of  marine  police  amid  Homeric 


THE  STAFF,  WHICH  HELPS  MOST  HUMAN 
BEINOS  TO  BED. — The  Candle-stick. 


H 
W 


o 
o 

K 
w 

o 


CQ 

H 


APRII,  17,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CII.MMN  AIM. 


189 


A    DEFINITION. 

(An  Easter  Monday  Sketch  by  the  Sea.) 
First 'Arry.  "WHAT'S  A  GBN'LEMAN  BIDKK,  OLD  PAL!" 
Stcond  'Arry.  "Wav,  A  COVE  LIKE  rou  AN'  ME  o'  COURSE,  AS  AIN'T  A  BLOOMIN'  PIKFESSIONAL  !' 


THE  LIMITS  OF  CHIVALRY. 

0  WOMAN  1  in  your  hour  of  wrong, 
Not  vainly  shall  you  seek 

My  voice  and  aid  against  the  strong, 
Who  would  oppress  the  weak. 

Whenas  I  hear  the  whispered  word 
(Albeit  sometimes  true) 

That  you  are  fickle,  vain,  absurd — 
Then  I  stand  up  for  you. 

And  be  you  fair,  or  be  you  plain, 

Of  lineage  high  or  low, 
In  me  a  champion  you  shall  gain, 

If  you  will  have  it  so. 
Dear  lady,  you  may  even  be 

The  woman  known  as  "  new," 
It  matters  not  one  jot  to  me — 

I  '11  e'en  stand  up  for  you. 

Whoever  in.  your  praise  is  dumb, 

My  voice  at  least  I  '11  raise, 
Who  worship  you  in  spite  of  some 

Of  your  lejs  pleasing  ways. 
At  matinees,  if  you  but  hark, 

Or  at  a  private  view, 
Your  hat  excites  adverse  remark — 

Yet  I  stand  up  for  you. 

Ape  man  without  one  frown  from  me, 

Go  out  with  dog  and  gun — 
If  of  your  party  I  may  be 

Excused  from  making  one. 
Make  speeches,  if  you  like,  and  wear 

The  "  rational "  tenue — 

1  do  not  come  myself  to  hear, 
Still — I  stand  up  for  you. 

But  when  the  omnibus  is  packed, 

And  you  come  pushing  in ; 
When  there  are  'six  each  side,"  in  fact, 

And  none  of  us  are  thin ; 


And  when  you  murmur  soft  and  sweet 

"  I  '11  stand,"  a  gentle  cue 
For  me  to  give  you  up  my  seat — 

I  don't  stand  up  for  you  I 


Selling  in  Thousands !  Nupkins'  Patent  Jubilee 
Chair,  on  the  Pianoforte  Stool  principle.  Pack*  up 
into  a  small  portmanUau  or  hat  case.  Can  be 
purchased  on  the  Three  Years'  System. 


A  BAB  TO  THE  BAH. 

To  tlie  Editor  of  Punch. 

DEAB  AND  LEARNED  SIB, — As  you  are 
admittedly  the  mouthpiece  of  Justice,  will 
you  allow  me  to  call  your  attention  to 
the  resolution  which  uus  recently  been 
passed  by  the  General  Council  of  the  liar 
objecting  to  counsel  "holding  the  office  of 
Town  Clerk,  Clerk  to  Guardians,  or  any 
similar  public  office"  taking  private  prac- 
tice '?  The  Committee  have  gone  furtuer. 
They  have  sent  a  resolution  to  the  Benchers 
of  tlio  four  Inns  of  Court,  contending  that 
"  It  is  undesirable  that  a  person  holding  any 
such  office  should  be  called  to  the  liar." 
1  can  quite  understand  the  feeling  that  has 
prompted  this  action.  Competition  is  keen 
in  our  profession,  and  we — no  doubt — 
would  prefer  to  keep  Town  Clerks  and  the 
like  to  their  work  to  the  exclusion  of  any 
other  duty.  But  the  suggestion  that  a 
person  holding  the  positions  referred  to 
should  not  be  called  to  the  Bar  hints  at  the 
{  undesirability  of  Barristers  themselves  ac- 
cepting such  appointments.  To  this,  for 
reasons  of  a  sell-evident  character.  I  can- 
not possibly  agree.  And  aa  I  speak  as  the 
representative  of  a  vary  large  majority  of 
my  colleagues,  I  trust  you  will  give  pub- 
licity to  my  opinion.  Yours  truly, 
A.  BRIEFLESS,  JUNIOR. 

Pump-HandU  Court. 

P.S. — I  may  say  that  were  I  offered  such 
an  appointment  I  would  relinquish  my  pri- 
vate practice  at  onoe.  I  may  add,  that 
with  some  such  career  in  view  I  have  for 
many  years  past  been  reducing  the  number 
of  my  clients.  Should  corroboration  be 
needed  my  clerk,  Mr.  PORTINOTON,  will  be 
happy  to  show  my  fee-book.  Of  course, 
only  to  members  of  the  profession. 


190 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  17,  1897. 


Publisher  (impatiently).  "WELL,  SIR,  WHAT  is  IT?"      Poet  (timidly).  "O— ER— ARK  YOU  MR.  JOBSON?"      Publisher  (irritably).  "  1'ss.' 

Poet  (more  timidly).   "MR.  GBORGB  JOBSON  ?"        Publisher  (excitably).  "Yas,  SIR,  THAT'S  MY  NAMK." 

Poet  (more  timidly  still).   "Op  THE  FIRM  OF  MESSRS.  JOBSON  AND  DOODLE?"        Publisher  (angrily).   "  YES.     WHAT  DO  YOU  WANT?" 

Poet.  "On — I  WANT  TO  SEE  MR.  DOODLE!" 


OUR  HOTEL  DRAWING-ROOM. 

( Tout  compris. ) 

Hitel  de  Midi,  N'Importe  Oil,  Basses  Pyrenees. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  am  staying  in  a  first-class  hotel,  "re- 
plete "  with  every  comfort,  with  magnificent  scenery  laid  on 
every  floor,  a  snow-capped  mountain-range  in  the  back-garden, 
and  a  romantic  gave,  or  river,  in  the  foreground.  All  this  you  will 
see  from  the  hotel  note-paper,  which,  in  accordance  with  custom, 
shows  all  the  other  adjacent  establishments  very  properly  dwarfed 
to  an  insignificant  size.  But  what  I  want  specially  to  point  oul 
to  your  discriminating  readers  is  the  superexcellence  of  the  litera- 
ture in  our  Salon  de  Lecture.  I  have  just  been  taking  a  rough 
inventory,  and  find  there  is  something  to  suit  every  taste.  The 
centenarian  will  discover  here  the  newspapers  of  his  early  youth , 
the  hypochondriac  can  study  the  illustrated  Album  des  Ville.* 
d'Eaux  et  de  Bains  de  Mer  and  the  Medical  Press  of  sixteen 
months  ago,  and  the  golf-maniac  has  The  Little  Folks'  History  of 
England  and  The  British  Journal  of  Commerce  for  October,  1896. 
provided  for  him— in  fact,  the  assortment  is  as  completely  varied 
and  classic  as  the  interesting  collections  usually  to  be  seen  on 
the  tables  in  dentists'  waiting-rooms.  Besides  these,  there  is  n 
well-preserved  copy  of  Westralia  (dated  July  23,  1896),  and  a 
Post-Office  Directory,  which  I  am  sure  would  appeal  to  the  lady 
visitors,  when  they  are  tired  of  looking  at  the  Annuaire  de  Com- 
merce for  1890,  or  the  Time-table  of  the  London  and  North 
Western  Railway.  And  there  are  several  fascinating  back  num- 
bers of  the  Gentlewoman,  and  Hearth  and  Home,  not  more  than 
ten  months  old,  which  the  stray  gentlemen  who  wander  hither 
from  the  smoke-room  will  no  doubt  be  delighted  to  read  from 
cover  to  cover.  I  notice  they  always  do  at  home,  being  highly 
(and  naturally)  interested  in  the  advertisement  pictures. 

The  drawing-room  table  also  contains  several  important  French 
publications,  such  as  L'Ami  des  Campagnes,  Le  Monde  Thermal, 
and  La  Collection  de  Mme.  Roland,  which,  I  regret  to  say,  are 
not  as  much  appreciated  as  they  should  be.  The  French  journals, 


also,  which  give  some  intensely  thrilling  provincial  news,  with 
occasionally  a  foreign  telegram  of  certainly  within  the  last  week, 
I  regret  to  say,  are  scarcely  ever  removed  from  their  wrappers. 
The  F inancial  News  and  various  Store  catalogues  are  taken  in  for 
the  benefit  of  the  invalids,  who  derive  much  pleasure  in  turning 
the  familiar  pages  over  and  over  again.  There  is  a  charming 
work  on  Russia  (in  French),  with  only  a  few  pages  missing,  on  a 
what-not  in  the  corner ;  a  handy-guide  to  the  Peak  of  Derbyshire, 
and  a  Visitors'  List  of  the  Swiss  Resorts  form  not  unattractive 
additions  to  the  collection  ;  while  the  piece  de  resistance  is  perhaps 
the  Album  Naturel  de  la  Fabrique  et  de  I'lndustrie.  This  is  truly 
light  reading  after  the  heavy  and  excellent  dinners  provided  us. 

For  those  who  shun  newspapers,  even  though  a  year  old,  there 
is  a  beautiful  and  novel  toy  in  the  shape  of  a  stereoscope.  This 
would  be  a  still  greater  success  if  the  photographs,  which  ex- 
hibit family  groups  in  the  costume  of  the  sixties,  were  not 
somewhat  tattered  and  fragmentary.  This  about  completes  the 
contents  of  our  Salon,  but  I  think  I  have  written  enough  to  shew 
that,  though  far  from  Fleet  Street,  we  are  not  without  food  for 
the  mind.  Yours  fatuously,  Z.  Y.  X. 

P.S. — Could  you  favour  me  with  a  London  evening  paper  frcm 
time  to  time?  Even  a  halfpenny  one  would  be  a  godsend. 


"THE     VISION." 

I  DREAMED,  but  'twas  only  a  passing  dream, 

That  from  London  milk  you  could  skim  thick  cream  ; 

That  cats  in  the  night  had  ceased  to  squall, 

And  formed  the  choir  of  the  Albert  Hall ; 

That  the  person  leading  the  Tory  Van 

Was  known  by  the  name  of  the  "  Grand  Old  Man." 

I  woke,  and  said  to  myself,  "  Ah  me  I 

If  this  were  true,  what  a  change  there  'd  be  I  " 


APPROPRIATE  NAME  FOR  THE  SOUTH  AFRICAN  COMMITTEE. — Tho 
Labby-rinth. 


17,  1897.] 


i-rvii,   di;  TIIK   LONDON   CHAIMVAIM. 


191 


"MINE  EASE  IN  MINE  INN." 

I"  The  ForU'rs  and  Police  have  orders  to  remove 
•11  persons  making  a  noise  within  thin  Inn." 

A-'  i"  /I'Hiril*  in  I.inco/n't  Inn.] 

TKMIM.E  of  monastic  quiet  I 

Shrine  where  noise  becomes  a  sin  I 

Let  no  timm  nl,  no  rude  riot, 
Mar  thy  peace,  ()  Lincoln's  Inn  ! 

Far  from  madding  crowds  tin-  H.-nc-her 
Samples  some  old  special  bin, 

Proves  himself  11  valiant    tivnclier- 
-man  in  peaceful  Lincoln's  Inn. 


Leaders  there  in  fat  liricfs  revel, 
And  renown  and  fortune  win, 

Working  hard  the  willing  "  devil," 
In  the  peace  of  Lincoln's  Inn. 

Juniors  old  and  grey,  who  crave  its 
Shelter,  webs  of  pleading  spin, 

Draw  vast  deeds  and  affidavits, 
Peacefully  in  Lincoln's  Inn. 

Save  the  "  Devil's  Own,"  when  drilling 
Line  of  heroes  somewhat  thin  !- 

There  no  sounds  the  air  are  filling, 
Peace  holds  sway  in  Lincoln's  Inn. 

Callous  organ-grinders  dare  not 
There  their  repertoire  begin, 

There  stentorian  costers  fare  not  — 
All  is  peace  in  Lincoln's  Inn. 

Paper-hoys  and  bands  Teutonic 
Are  to  nuisance  near  akin  — 

These  a  notice  stern,  laconic, 

Bars  from  peaceful  Lincoln's  Inn. 

"  Porters  and  Police  have  orders 
To  prevent  all  noise  and  din  "  — 

Thanks  to  these  efficient  warders 
There  is  peace  in  Lincoln's  Inn  I 


QUESTIONS  FOR  THE  EASTER  OUTING. 

(To  be  ignored  by  the  Patriotic  Volunteer.) 

Is  there  any  benefit  to  the  British  race  in 
rising  at  five  to  parade  at  six? 

What  is  the  advantage  to  our  Indian 
Empire  of  going  to  the  coast  in  an  over- 
crowded train  in  heavy  inarching  order? 

Will  the  Empire  be  saved  by  your  joining 
your  battalion  naif  asleep  and  nearly  starv- 
ing ? 

Will  Britannia  rule  the  waves  with 
greater  freedom  if  you  manoeuvre  in  the 
rain  for  an  indefinite  period? 

Will  JOHN  BUM,  sleep  more  soundly  if 
you  deafen  yourself  and  your  neighbours  by 
firing  off  an  unlimited  number  of  blank 
inrt ridges  '•? 

Will  the  Concert  of  Europe  be  strength- 
ened by  your  putting  off  your  breakfast 
until  after  your  lunch,  and  taking  that 
meal  later  than  your  customary  dinner- 
time? 

Will  the  cause  of  International  Federa- 
tion be  furthered  l>y  your  tramping  through 
ploughed  fields  for  eight  hours  at  a  stretch  ? 

Will  Australia  advance  at  a  quicker  pace 
by  your  marching  past  a  flag-staff  on  the 
bleakest  of  bleak  downs  ? 

Will  Canada  love  the  mother  more  dearly 
I). 'cause  you  stagger  into  a  railway  station 
at  eight  in  the  evening  with  a  prospect  of 
passing  the  greater  part  of  the  night  in  a 
third-class  carriage  ? 

Finally,  don't  you  think  that  England 
might  continue  to  he  England  still,  e\en 
were  you  to  shirk  your  martial  duties  and 
stay  quietly  at  home? 


A  SOUVENIR  op  LENT. — A  ticket  issued 
by  a  pawnbroker. 


READY-MADE    COATS(-OF-ARMS) ;    OR,   GIVING   'EM    FITS! 


OOH  I'AI-L,  IST  KARL  or  KRVOERSDOKP. 

A  run  :  Quarterly ;  let,  two  british  cage-birds  still  vulning  thcmsrlvit  on  a  ground  of  exceswre 
patriotism  ;  2nd,  a  pair  of  scales-of-justice  patent  controllable  and  adjustable  at  will  proper  ;  3rd,  a  lion 
in  cachinnation  roaring  over  a  hoar  charging  to  absurdity  for  moral  and  intellectual  damage ;  4th,  a 
dog's-eared  "  hym-buk  "  bound  in  veldt  with  covert  designs.  Crot :  A  reform  tortoise  of  the  rand  emer- 
gent coupcd  at  the  neck  proper  disarmed  and  voided  of  assets.  Kupportm  :  Dexter,  a  burgher  rampant 
in  piety  armed  to  the  teeth  ;  sinister,  an  antique  doppcr  also  in  piety  habited  proper  in  broadcloth  home- 
made and  moth-eaten  to  the  lust ;  both  singing  in  unison  fulsette  the  indenmddcl  from  "  simplicita 
.  usticana,"  Second  Molt  i:  "  Who  said  Khodos  : !  " 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  PROM  TUB  DIARY  OF  TOBY,  M.P. 

House  of  Commons,  Monday,  April  5. — 
Everyone  glad  to  see  the  SQUIRB  OF  MAL- 
w  c  M  in  back  again  to  -  night.  PRINCE 
ARTHUR,  who  instinctively  does  the  gra- 
cious thing,  said  so  amid  cheers  from 
both  sides.  Young  bloods  on  Tory  benches 
sometimes  affect  to  make  light  of  the 
SQUIRE,  interrupt  him  when  he  is  speak- 
ing, jeer  when  he  rises  to  purple  heights  of 
oratory.  But  in  its  secret  heart  the 
House,  independent  of  party,  is  proud  of 
the  SQUIRB,  recognising  in  him  the  greatest 
Parliamentarian  left,  the  final  practitioner 
in  an  old  school  which  Time  has  long  been 
busy  breaking  up. 

Coming  back  in  rather  subdued  mood 
after  a  week's  wrestling  with  that  practised 
athlete  the  Influenza,  the  SQUIRB  is,  per- 
haps, just  a  little  mild  in  manner.  Has 
brought  with  him  notice  of  a  resolu- 
tion forbidding  employment  of  forces 
of  the  Crown  against  the  kingdom  of 
Greece  or  the  people  of  Crete.  PRINCE 
ARTHUR,  jumping  at  opportunity,  wants 
him  to  call  it  a  Vote  of  Censure.  In  his 
mellowed  mood  the  SQVIRE  declines.  How, 
he  asks,  can  they  move  a  vote  of  censure 
upon  the  Government  till  they  know  pre- 
cisely what  is  their  line  of  policy  ?  All  his 
proposed  motion  designs  is  to  bring  out  a 
full  declaration  of  the  intentions  of  Her 
Majesty's  Government  with  respect  to 
Greece  and  Crete. 


His  coyness  increases  desire  of  PRINCE 
ARTHUR  to  be  assailed.     Amid  loud  cheers 
from    Ministerialists   spoiling   for   a   fight 
PRINCB  ARTHUR  walks  up  and  down  before 
Front  Opposition  Bench,  temptingly  trail- 
ing his  frock  coat.     Won't  SQUIRB  tread  on 
its  tail  ?     Words  cannot  describe  the  look 
of  ineffable  benevolence  that  mantles  the 
broad  visage  of  the  SQUIRE.     Why  should 
I  he  tread  on  anyone's  coat,  least  of  all  on 
|  the  garment  of  his  interesting  and  amiable 
veiling  friend:'   A  man  of  peace,  he  desires, 
above  all  things,  to  avoid  strife.     Moreover 
than  which,  if  yielding  to  sudden  tempta- 
tion ho  were  to  accept  the  challenge  per- 
sistently fluttered  in  his  face,  he  would  con- 
|  fer    great    tactical    advantage    upon    the 
enemy.     At    the    first    sound    of    pitched 
battle  Ministerial  ranks  would    close    up; 
;  the  faintest  murmur  of  independent  criti- 
cism  would   be  hushed :    Ministers   would 
•  obtain  a  rattling  majority  that  would  en- 
I  able   them   to   go   their   way   for  rest  of 
j  Session,  snapping  their  fingers  in  face  of 
discredited  Opposition. 

These,  however,  mere  details.  It  is  be- 
cause moved  by  larger,  nobler  passion  for 
peace  and  quietness,  that  the  SQUIRB 
smilingly  shakes  his  head  and  keeps  his 
foot  clear  of  the  temptingly  trailed  coat. 

Bust n<  xx  Jon.  . — The  Minister  for  Educa- 
tion brings  in  an  Education  Bill. 

'/'ic  ... /i(i/.  Mr.  WEIR,  meditating  in  the 
night  season  on  the  position  of  the  country 
over  whose  weal  he  ever  watches,  is 
struck  by  strategical  possibilities  of 
Iceland.  What  if  the  Concert  of  the 


192 


PUNCH,    OE    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[APBIL  17,  1897. 


Great  Powers  being  broken  one  of  them 
were  to  swoop  down  on  Iceland,  making  it 
what  Dr.  JAMESON  would  call  a  jumping-off 
ground  to  seize  Orkney  and  the  adjacent 
islands  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  ?  Day 


A  HEARTRENDING  APPEAL! 

Mr.  S-lf-r  sings— 

"  Won't  anybody  move  a  Vote  of  Censure  now 
on  m??  " 

(Popular  Music-hall  Song  slightly  amended.) 

and  night  the  fear  has  haunted  him.  He 
thought  of  calling  upon  Lord  WOLSELEY 
to  discuss  the  situation.  But  he  knows 
that  military  men  in  high  command  are 
absurdly  jealous  of  their  position,  and  re- 
sent suggestions  from  civilians.  The  ad- 
vantage of  adopting  such  a  course  is  evi- 
dent. The  communication  would  have 
been  private.  The  other  alternative,  ques- 
tioning the  Ministers  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  would  put  the  enemy  on  the 
alert,  might  even  suggest  to  him  the 
masterly  manoeuvre. 

However,  for  reasons  stated,  Mr.  WEIR 
decided  to  risk  consequences.  To-night 
confronted  UNDER  SECRETARY  FOR  WAR 
with  problem.  BRODRICK  put  best  face  on 
matter.  Mr.  WEIR'S  suggestion  is,  that 
in  order  to  resist  any  swooping  down  of 
a  piratical  power  from  Iceland,  steps  should 
be  taken  to  fortify  the  north-west  coast 
of  Scotland.  ST.  JOHN  BRODRICK  frigidly 
replied  that  the  joint  Naval  and  Military 
Committee  do  not  consider  Iceland  a  source 
of  danger.  Consequently  they  have  not 
recommended  works  on  the  north  -  west 
coast  of  Scotland. 

House  laughed,  but  a  little  hysterically. 
It  felt  that  with  unerring  military  instinct 
Mr.  WEIR  had  put  his  finger  on  a  weak 
spot  in  the  national  armour ;  was  only 
half  assured  by  the  jaunty  confidence  of 
UNDER  SECRETARY  FOR  WAR. 

The  little  incident  appropriately  led  the 
way  to  debate  opened  by  SETON-KARR, 


in  which  he  demonstrated  how  thin  is  the 
crust  of  the  crater  on  which  the  safety  of 
England  rests.  Showed  how,  war  breaking 
out,  England  would  be  beleaguered,  would 
in  a  week  eat  up  all  its  bread  stuffs,  arid 
Famine  would  Stalk  through  the  Land. 
DILKE  said  there  are  peas  and  lentils. 
True.  Also  there  are  old  boots.  But  in  no 
case  is  the  supply  illimitable. 

On  the  whole  spent  quite  a  cheerful 
evening,  Mr.  WEIR  frightening  the  life  out 
of  us  with  prospect  of  an  invasion  from  Ice- 
land, and  SETON-KARR,  like  the  voice  of 
one  crying  in  a  granary,  "  We  have  no 
corn."  By  eight  o'clock  everyone  in  such 
a  blue  funk  that  we  were  glad  to  see  each 
other  home  before  it  got  later. 

Business  done. — House  counted  out  at 
eight  o'clock. 

Thursday. — "Tin  HEALY  reminds  me," 
said  SARK.  "of  the  waiter  not  unknown 
to  famej  who,  having  a  rare  holiday,  spent 
it  in  assisting  a  pal  to  serve  a  big  dinner." 

No  Irish  business  to  the  fore  just  now. 
Other  Irish  Members  take  advantage  of 
the  lull,  either  to  go  back  to  their  much- 
loved  country  or  spend  the  evening  with 
their  friends  in  town.  TIM,  on  the  contrary, 
hearing  that  the  Welsh  Members  mean  to 
oppose  the  Berriew  School  Bill,  tucks 
his  serviette  under  his  arm,  and  goes  to 
spend  the  evening  helping  them.  Quite 
a  brisk  debate,  having  the  additional  charm 
that  very  few  knew  what  it  was  about. 
Honest  CAP'EN  TOMMY  BOWLES  frankly 
avowed  that  frame  of  mind  as  sufficient 
reason  why  he  should  vote  for  Second 
Reading.  It  would  have  served  equally  well 
as  logical  reason  for  opposing  the  Bill. 
But  with  the  CAP'EN  benevolence  always 
predominates.  To  gentle  minds  it  is  easier 
to  say  "yes"  than  "no."  So  when  the 
SPEAKER  put  the  question  that  the  Bill  be 
read  a  second  time,  the  CAP'EN  answered 
with  a  cheery  "Ay,  ay,  Sir!" 

This  Berriew  School  Bill  has  from  the 
first  succeeded  in  attracting  exceptional 
attention.  Members  recalled  how,  on  the 
night  when  PRINCE  ARTHUR,  shelving  the 
Vice-President  of  the  Council,  proposed  to 
introduce  the  Voluntary  Schools  Bill,  JOHN 
o'  GORST  adroitly  and  dramatically  prefaced 
the  unusual  procedure  by  humbly  walking 
up  the  floor,  bringing  in  the  Berriew 
School  Bill.  Here  it  was  come  up  for 
Second  Reading,  with  a  pack  of  Wefch 
Members  in  full  cry,  TRUCTTLENT  TIM 
leading  the  way.  Fought  it  step  by  step 
on  motion  for  Second  Reading,  and  on 
motion  to  refer  it  to  Grand  Committee  on 
Law.  This  last  TIM  denounced  as  "  simnlv 
an  expedient  for  ramrodding  the  Bill 
through  the  House." 

I  thank  thee,  TIM,  for  teaching  me  that 
verb.  Not  to  be  found  in  the  dictionary  ; 
but  it  ought  to  be. 

Business  done. — Miscellaneous. 

Friday.  —  Since  CAWMELL-BANNERMAN 
left  War  Office,  we  don't  look  to  that  part 
of  Pall  Mall  for  wit  and  humour.  But, 
as  SARK  says,  you  may  break,  you  may 
shatter  the  vase  as  you  will,  the  scent  of 
the  roses  will  cling  to  it  still.  Thus, 
though  CAWMELL-BANNERMAN  was,  nearly 
two  years  ago,  blown  out  of  War  Office  by 
cordite  explosion,  engineered  by  that  great 
military  strategist  ST.  JOHN  BRODRICK,  the 
building  still  gives  forth  echoes  of  good 
things. 

One  such  stands  to  credit  of  Financial 
Secretary.  In  course  of  conversation  across 
the  table,  CALDWELL  affirmed  that  some- 
thing had  been  said  by  an  earlier  speaker. 

"But,"    said    POWELL    WILLIAMS,    "the 


hon.  Member  was  not  present  at  the 
moment." 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  CALDWELL,  "  I  'm  always 
here." 

"Ah!"  murmured  POWELL  WILLIAMS, 
"  but  you  're  not  always  there." 


Sir  "Fregoli"  L-ckw-d,  the  "quick  change" 
artist,  appears  as  one  of  Her  Majesty's  Ministers  in 
raiment  kindly  lent  by  Sir  E.  F-nl-y. 

No ;  it  must  be  admitted  that,  con- 
sidering his  extreme  fluency  of  tepid  speech, 
HOMOCEA  CALDWELL  doesn't  often  touch 
the  spot. 

Business  done. — Civil  Service  Estimates 
in  Committee  of  Supply.  CALDWELL  all 
over  the  shop.  Had,  as  he  says,  a  real 
evening. 


RINGING  THE  CHANGES. 

THE  sweet  old  days  of  Long-ago 
We  thought  could  never,  never  change  ; 

Our  hearts  were  all  too  young  to  know 
That  they  could  ever,  ever  change, 

My  darling  !  O  my  darling ! 

When  you  were  just  a  maiden  coy, 

And  I  was  but  a  bashful  boy, 

When  time  was  meant  for  endless  joy — 
Ah  me  !  that  we  should  find  the  change, 
My  darling  !  O  my  darling  ! 

The  promises  of  Spring  were  fain  ; 

We  thought  that  love  could  never  change, 
'Mid  winds  of  March  and  April  rain, 

And  so  from  Spring  to  Summer  change, 

My  darling!  O  my  darling! 
The  daffodils  sprang  into  sheen 
With  gold  encrowned  upon  the  green  ; 
Each  one,  like  you,  a  gentle  queen. 

Ah  me  !  that  we  should  find  the  change, 
My  darling !  O  my  darling  ! 

The  hopes  of  Spring  are  buried,  fled 
Into  the  life  that  yet  must  change  ; 

The  love  is  lost,  forgotten,  dead 
As  memories  that  ever  change, 

My  darling!  O  my  darling! 

No  longer  we  meet  now  by  stealth. 

[  have  my  heart  and  you  your  wealth. 

Upon  my  word  I  'd  drink  your  health — 
Ah  me  !  if  I  could  find  the  change, 

My  darling!  O  my  darling! 


ArniL  24,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


193 


Celebrated  Minor  Poet.  "AH,  HOSTESS,  HOW  'DO  ?     DID  Ton  o«T  MY 

BOOK   I   BUNT  YOU   YESTERDAY  ? " 

Hostess.  "  DELIOHTFUL  !    /  COULDN'T  SLSSP  TILL  I'D  RXAD  IT!" 


CHANGE  OF  AIR. 

["  There  i»  really  no  reason  why  we  should  not  »oon  he  ordering  bottles  of 
country  air  in  a  stuffy  room,  just  as  we  call  for  ice  in  hot  weather." 

Standard.] 

DEAR  SIR, — In  submitting  our  new  price-list  for  the  ensuing 
season,  we  beg  once  more  to  call  your  attention  to  the  great 
boon  conferred  upon  the  public  by  our  system,  which  enables 
persons  of  all  classes,  for  very  moderate  charges,  to  have  any 
climate  they  prefer  delivered  in  bottles  or  cases  at  their  homes. 

As  the  weather,  unfortunately,  seems  likely  to  be  less  favour- 
able during  this  summer  than  it  was  at  the  time  of  the  last 
Jubilee  festivities,  we  are  glad  to  say  that  we  have  in  stock  a 
large  quantity  of  superb  Summer  Temperature  (very  dry)  laid 
down  in  1887.  It  is  only  necessary  to  open  one  of  these  bottles 
in  your  hall,  when  your  house  will  at  once  be  filled  with  the 
warm,  glowing  atmosphere  of  a  sunny  June  day.  As  the  de- 
mand for  this  brand  is  likely  to  be  very  large,  your  orders  for 
this  special  "  Queen's  Weather "  quality  should  be  forwarded  as 
soon  as  possible. 

We  count  with  confidence  upon  doing  a  very  large  Summer 
Holiday  business  this  year.  The  well-known  inconveniences 
inseparable  from  travel,  and  the  expense  occasioned  by  the  re- 
moval of  a  large  family  to  the  seaside,  can  now  be  disregarded 
entirely.  You  have  but  to  send  us  an  order  to  secure  a  cask  of 
guaranteed  superfine  sea-air,  which  can  be  opened  in  your  own 
home  at  any  time  you  please.  Should  the  requirements  of  differ- 
ent members  of  your  family  demand  it,  you  can  fill  one  room 
with  Torquay  air,  another  with  the  Scarborough  brand,  a  third 
with  the  peculiar  atmosphere  of  a  cheap  foreign  hotel  (duly 
impregnated  with  the  customary  microbes),  and  a  fourth  with 
our  special  "  Natisen  "  brand — a  particularly  bracing  variety,  im- 
ported direct  from  the  Arctic  regions.  The  last-named  may  be 
utilised  with  great  advantage  in  the  bedrooms  of  rich,  elderly 
relatives  of  asthmatic  tendencies,  and  our  bottled  Malarial 
Vapour  (from  the  West  Coast  of  Africa)  is  often  used  by  lovers 
seeking  to  dispose  of  an  inconvenient  rival. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  point  out  how  suitable  a  case  or  two 
of  selected  atmospheres  is  for  a  present,  especially  when  the 
recipient  is  abroad.  For  this  purpose  we  confidently  recommend 
our  double-distilled  Fog  (London  Particular).  The  unhappy 
exile  from  England  will  indeed  be  delighted  with  such  a  gift,  for 
immediately  he  opens  the  bottle  (which  he  will  believe,  from  its 
appearance,  to  contain  champagne)  his  house  in  the  Riviera  or 
his  log-cabin  in  America  will  at  once  be  filled  with  the  orange- 
coloured,  pungent  atmosphere  of  the  London  fog  which  he  has 

VOL.  cxn.  •' 


missed  so  long,  and  he  will  readily  imagine  himself  returned  once 
more  to  his  beloved  metropolis. 

No  class  of  the  public  values  our  system  more  than  the  artists, 
poets,  writers  of  time-tables,  and  others  whose  work  is  mainly 
the  product  of  their  imaginations,  which  may  b«  agreeably 
stimulated  by  our  Bottled  Atmospheres.  For  instance,  the  poet 
who  lives  in  London,  and  desires  to  write  an  Ode  to  Summer  on 
a  cold  winter's  day,  can  be  supplied  with  a  bottle  of  air  tolltscted 
on  a  Devonshire  farm  in  June,  which  (even  if  it  gives  him  hay- 
fever)  cannot  fail  to  place  him  thoroughly  en  rapport  with  his 
theme.  Similarly,  the  novelist  who  has  never  been  out  of  Eng- 
land, but  prefers,  in  deference  to  public  taste,  to  make  Africa 
the  scene  of  his  story,  will  succeed  far  more  easily  when  he  has 
emptied  a  bottle  of  our  very  Old  Sahara  in  his  study.  We  also 
are  prepared  to  supply  theatrical  managers  on  special  terms  with 
atmospheres  from  any  part  of  the  world,  whereby  the  scenic 
illusion  will  be  very  much  enhanced. 

For  further  particulars  we  beg  to  refer  you  to  our  price-list. 
All  atmospheres  are  most  carefully  bottled  and  packed,  so  that 
a  repetition  of  the  recent  accident  (when  a  bottle  of  Double 
Arctic  burst  in  a  train  and  froze  the  guard  to  death)  ia  now 
quite  impossible. 

Confidently  awaiting  your  orders,  which  shall  receive  our  most 
prompt  and  careful  attention, 

We  are,  Dear  Sir,  Your  obedient  servants, 

THE  ATMOSPHERIC  SUPPLY  STORKS,  UNLIMITED. 


THE  MAN  IN  THE  STREET. 

THERE  "a  a  good  bit  o'  chat,  Muter  Punch,  abaout  MP, 

And  a  deal  on  it 's  kibosh  and  fiddle-de-^iee. 

There  you  are,  Sir,  that  'a  strite  I    Lori  it  do  myke  me  grin 

When  the  spouters  and  penny-a-liners  begin 

To  trot  out  yours  truly  I     Who  spotted  me  fust, 

With  my  love  of  a  gawp  and  my  stiddy  old  thust, 

I  am  sure  I  carn't  ay.     But  I  meet  my  own  nyme 

All  over  the  bill  as  a  part  o'  the  gyme. 

Sort  o'  super,  I  s'pose,  standin'  by  with  a  flag. 

And  a-quizzin'  the  "  Stars  "  who  're  all  straddle  ami  brag, 

And  cop  all  the  coin  and  the  kudos.     P'r'aps  so  I 

Lookers-on  do  see  most  of  the  gyme,  dontcherknoiv. 

When  you  're  plying  your  part,  with  the  foot-lights  a-flare, 

With  daubed  cheeks,  toppin'  togs  and  some  other  core's  hair 

Frizzled  up  on  your  tibby,  you  're  tempted,  I  s'pose, 

To  tyke  yerself  serous.     A  cockney's  flat  nose 

Ruddled  out  to  a  Roman's  with  grease,  paint  and  stuff 

Mykes  him  feel  like  a  swell  though  he  may  be  a  muff. 

I  ain't  got  no  properties,  bar  a  white  "at 

Now  and  then  in  the  summer,  and  shabby  at  that, 

And  my  hair  ia  my  own,  what  there  is  of  it  left ; 

But  at  sizing  things  up,  and  a-tyking  the  heft 

Of  padded-out  parties  'arf  sordust  and  wool, 

Well,  I  Ve  lamed  a  good  bit  as  they  don't  teach  at  school. 

The  street  "as  bin  my  only  'Varsity  1     Yua ; 

And  for  wanning  yer  wite  like  there  "s  many  a  wusa. 

What  we  do  lam  we  know,  and  don't  heasy  forget ; 

Worked-out  wisdom,  washed  down  with  a  tankard  o'  wot. 

And  knowledge  druv  in  like  a  nyle  in  a  post, 

By  necessity's  'amrner  's  a  fixture — with  most. 

Our  "  coach  "  is  the  gnnstone,  and  if  we  don't  "  cram  " 

Like  a  goose,  but  feed  heasy  at  large,  like  a  Inmb 

In  the  still  grassy  springtime,  I  hold,  Mister  Punch, 

Hasty  stodge  ain't  a  patch  on  deliberate  munch. 

Grub  rushed  is  grub  spiled !     Rylewy  travellers  know  that. 

But  the  quill-driving  lot  don't  know  what  they  are  at. 

When  they  trot  aput  "The  Man  in  the  Street."    Jimney  whiz! 

He  must  back  their  hideas,  wich  is  mighty  good  biz 

For  their  side  or  their  argyment,  better  or  wuss, 

But  for  wich,  very  likely,  he  don't  care  a  cuss! 

I  'ave  my  own  knowledge,  likeways  my  own  views, 

But  a  lot  of  the  truck  that  they  call  "  Art,"  and  "  news," 

/  call  tommy-rot  and  stale  fourpenny !     Great  Scott, 

t  'm  as  ignerent  as  dirt  of  a  thunderin'  lot 

Of  their  patter  and  pickters.     Dunno  what  they  mean, 

And  what 's  more  I  don't  icant  to !    The  guffins  are  green 

Who  farcy  I  studdy  aout  all  sorts  o'  stodge, 

Abaout  furrin  flamfudge  and  perlitikle  dodge, 

'Igh  Art  and  Harmenians,  Rooshian  and  Greek, 

Them  two  bloomin'  mystries  the  Turk  and  "  teckneek,' 

That  bimetal  fake,  or  why  PAT  is  so  queer 

That  he  won't  dodge  the  taxes  by  stickin'  to  beer  I 

Thpv  don't  know  me,  pussonal,  Punch,  that  is  plain  ; 

So  I  drop  you  a  line,  and  may  do  so  again ; 

For  you  Ml  have  the  savvy  to  know  when  you  meet 

That  much-talked-of  party  Tire  MAN  IN  THE  STREET. 


194 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  24,  1897. 


GERM  AIM  I  ALARMING    KRUGER. 

["  The  Voisische  Zeitung  chronicles  with  satisfaction  the  recent  arrival  at  Lorenzo  Marquez,  on  board  the  German  East  African  liner  Kaiser,  of  1,650 
cases  of  war  material  for  the  Transvaal,  including  a  whole  battery  of  heavy  guns,  and  states  its  conviction  that  the  Transvaal  and  the  Orange  Free  State 
are  '  determined  to  maintain  their  independence.'  " — Globe,  April  13.] 


APRIL  24,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


195 


A  VENEltAHLE  ANT1-MU/ZLEB. 

KM  KKMKII  MR.  PCNOH, — Has  the  present 
generation  totally  forgotten,  or  has  it 
never  heard  of,  my  once  celebrated 
"  hymns,"  on  which  most  of  their  fathers, 
and  all  their  grandfathers,  were  brought 
up  ?  Is  there  not  to  be  found  in  one  of  t  In- 
most popular  of  my  inspired  compositions 
these  lines :  — 

"  Let  dog*  delight 
To  bark  and  biu>, 
For  'tin  their  nature  to  "  ? 

Would  I  have  advocated  the  muzzle,  think 
you?    Nay,  indeed.        I  remain, 

Your  old  friend's  shade, 

DR.  WATTS. 


BRUSSELS  BARRICADED  ! 

SCENES  IN  THE  STREETS. 

THE  POLICE  BELPI.ESS  I  THE  ARMY  INACTIVE! 

OUR  EXTRA  SPECIAL  CORRESPONDENT 

STOPPED  I  ! 
INTENTIONS  or  THE  GREAT  POWERS. 

TUB  usually  tranquil  capital  of  peaceful 
Belgium  is  in  the  throes  of  a  revolution. 
By  some  extraordinary  censorship  the  news 
has  hitherto  been  kept  from  the  English 
newspapers.  The  Daily  Chronicle  has  not 
been  aroused  to  fiery  denunciation  ;  even 
M .  UK  BLOWITZ  has  remained  silent.  Yet 
the  fact  cannot  be  denied.  Our  Extra 
Special  Correspondent,  sent  regardless  of 
expense  (since  he  paid  it  himself)  commu- 
nicates to  us  the  fo|lowing  exclusive  and 
astounding  information  by  special  post- 
card. We  think  that  even  any  one  as 
parsimonious  as  he  might  have  run  to  a 
2id.  letter,  as,  by  some  treachery,  the  ex- 
clusive information  on  his  post-card  might 
have  reached  the  Times  or  the  Daily 
Chronicle.  Happily  it  did  not,  and  this 
morning  we  alone  give  to  an  astonished 
world  the  first  description  of  the  Barri- 
cades of  Brussels.  These  are  his  words : 

This  city  is  in  a  condition  of  terrible 
disorder.  The  Place  Royale  is  occupied  by 
barricades  and  trenches,  the  Avenue 
Louise,  once  the  fashionable  route  to  the 
Bois  de  la  Cambre,  is  impassable,  and  even 
in  front  of  the  King's  Palace  all  is  in 
confusion.  The  trenches  are  occupied  by 
determined  men  of  the  lowest  classes, 
armed  with  rough  weapons,  pick-axes,  even 
spades.  The  police  are  helpless ;  the  army, 
probably  sympathising  with  the  disturbers 
of  the  peace,  remains  inactive.  I  myself 
have  been  stopped!  This  final  and  culmi- 
nating outrage  took  place  yesterday  in 
broad  daylight,  as  I  was  peacefully  crossing 
the  Place  Iloyale  to  reach  my  hotel.  The 
barricade  was  formed  by  an  omnibus  and 
by  a  dog-cart  (drawn  by  dogs)  meeting  on 
the  narrow  bridge  over  the  trenches.  I 
displayed  a  copy  of  the  last  issue  of  this 
journal,  but  without  effect.  I,  your  Extra 
Special  Correspondent,  was  stopped  I  I  can 
write  no  more,  partly  because  there  is  no 
more  room  on  this  post-card.  Up  to  the 
present  time  I  have  heard  nothing  of  com- 
bined action  on  the  part  of  the  Great 
Powers. 

Later — by  supplementary  special  post-card, 

I  forgot  to  say  the  trenches  are  for 
the  subterranean  electric  mechanism  of  the 
Brussels  tramways.  The  situation  remains 
unchanged.  In  the  intervals  of  working, 
between  the  hours  of  repose,  three  or  four 
men  are  going  on  slowlv.  It  is  hoped  that 
order  will  be  re-established  before  the  end 
of  the  century. 


.. 


AN    ADMONITION. 

Bridget.  "  Now  THEN,  Miss  EFKIE,  YOU  MUST  BEHAVE  YOURSELF  PROPERLY,  OR  NOT  AT  ALL  !  ' 


SOME  FAVOURITE  BECREATIOKS. 

(Omitted  from  "  Who's  Who"  for  1897.). 

H.I.M.  the  O-RM-.v  EM T-R-R  —  sending 
"  Potsdamograms." 

President  KR-O-R — suspending  his  grand- 
son for  insulting  the  QUEEN. 

The  King  of  GR-CE — being  interviewed 
by  special  correspondents. 

President  McK-NL-T  —  shaking  2,500 
free  and  independent  hands  per  hour. 

The  Emperor  N-CH-L-S — pigeon-shooting 
off  a  bicycle  in  the  grounds  of  Tsarskoye 
Selo. 

The  Sultan  of  T-RK-Y  —  attending  the 
Selamlik  on  Friday  mornings. 

The  G.O.M.  — denouncing  the  "Great 
Assassin." 

Prince  B-BM-RCK  —  inspiring  the  Sam- 
burger  Nachrichten. 

Lord  S-L-fiB-RY —  wishing  Crete  was  at 
the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

Mr.  RH-D-S — facing  the  music. 

Mr.  L-B-CH-RE — putting  his  tongue  in  his 
cheek. 


The  P-t  L-r-te — working  night  and  day 
over  his  forthcoming  Diamond  Jubilee  Ode. 

Mr.  WH-STL-R — the  gentle  art  of  appear- 
ing in  a  witness-box. 

C-RB-TT  —  wishing  he  had  never  been 
born,  now  that  the  cinematographs  of  the 
great  fight  have  proved  a  failure. 

FR-O-LI — imitating  B-NDI. 

B-NDI — imitating  FB-O-LI. 

Shopkeepers  along  the  line  of  route  of 
th"  Procession — waiting  for  the  Americans, 
and  rubbing  their  hands. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  BB-DL-Y-M-BT-N — travel- 
ling incognito. 

The  L-BD  CH-MB-RL-N —  arranging  the 
Tables  of  Precedence  for  June  22nd. 

The  Leading  Members  of  ike  Profession 
— waiting  for  baronetcies  on  that  occasion, 
and 

Provincial  mayors,  popular  authors,  com- 
mon councilmen,  chairmen  of  railway  com- 
panies, recorders,  brewers,  stock-jobbers, 
wine  merchants,  mine-owners,  and  nearly 
everybody  else — expecting  knighthoods  at 
least. 


196 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  24,  1897. 


"WHY,  TEDDY  DEAR,  WHAT  is  THE  MATTER?  DON'T  YOU  LIKE 
ASPARAGUS  ? " 

"YES,  Miss  BIKCHEM  ;  BUT  THE  HANDLES  AKE  so  HOT  !" 

TO  BE  (MUZZLED)  OR  NOT,  TOBY  ? 

DEAR  SIR  AND  HONOURED  MASTER, 

I  write  these  few  lines  hoping  you  are  having  a  holiday 
as  they  leave  me  at  present.  I  take  advantage  of  the  compara- 
tive leisure  to  address  you  on  the  subject  of  dogs  muzzled  and 
unmuzzled.  I  need  hardly  say  that,  personally,  it  does  not 
affect  me.  Like  Mr.  GLADSTONE  after  leaving  Oxford  I  am  un- 
muzzled. But  I  have  a  heart  that  can  feel  for  another^  woe. 
Unspoiled  by  associations  at  Westminster  I  still,  in  off  days, 
dwell  among  my  own  people,  know  their  feelings,  and  sympathise 
with  their  aspirations. 

What  they — what  we — want  is,  not  to  be  free  from  the  muz- 
zling order.  One  of  your  poets  has  written  about  a  dog  who, 
to  serve  his  private  ends,  went  mad  and  bit  a  man.  That  shows 
how  little  we  are  understood.  We  desire  to  be  delivered  from 
madness,  and  would  patiently  suffer  inconvenience  to  attain  that 
end.  What  we  object  to  is  the  absurd  defect  of  your  legislation 
which  makes  the  muzzles  peremptory  in  one  parish  and  unneces- 
sary in  another.  Somewhere  or  other  in  the  counties  or  parishes 
where  the  muzzle  is  imposed  there  comes  a  line  touching  the 
boundary  of  a  parish  or  county  where  there  is  no  muzzle.  On 
one  side  is  Freedom,  and  possibly  Disease ;  on  the  other  is 
Slavery  and  Safety. 

Apart  from  consideration  for  the  wounded  feelings  of  the 
muzzled  dog  looking  across  the  street  at  the  unmuzzled  brother, 
there  is  the  danger  of  the  unmuzzled  dog  biting  his  defenceless 
neighbour,  and,  peradventure,  imparting  rabies.  What  I  say  is, 
let  there  be  one  law  and  order  throughout  the  kingdom.  Let 
all  be  muzzled  or  let  all  go  free. 

With  much  respect,          Yours  faithfully,          TOBY. 

The  Kennel,  Barks.     Easter  Day. 

"  THE  SEATS  OF  THE  MIGHTY." — Already  secured  for  the  First 
Night  at  Her  Majesty's  Theatre. 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

THOUGH  not  as  good  as  his  Banishment  of  Jessop  Blytlie,  and 
not  up  to  two  or  three  other  novels  of  his  that  most  of  us  could 
mention,  yet,  in  The.  Dagger  and  the  Cross,  JOSEPH  HATTON  has 
struck  out  for  himself  a  new  line,  and,  although  it  is  a  line  I 
would  prefer  to  see  struck  out  altogether,  as  being  suggestive 
of  the  Corelliesque  scriptural  romance  and  the  Wilson-Bar- 
rettian  semi-sacred  drama,  yet  is  this  book  of  his  worthy  of  much 
praise,  and  will  certainly  repay  the  reader  if  he  be  not  in  too 
lightsome  a  humour,  and  can  give  the  work  the  attention  it  de- 
mands. JOSEPH  HATTON'S  health  and  work. 

As  one  of  the  excellent  series  of  "  Little  Novels  "  published  by 
FISHER  UNWIN,  CLARK  RUSSELL'S  A  Noble  Haul  is  a  little  novel 
worth  several  ordinary  big  ones.  It  is  a  sailor's  story,  admirably 
told,  and  in  the  smallest  compass  possible — quite  a  pocket  com- 
pass. For  rail,  road,  or  trip  by  sea,  strong! 
enlivening  and  shortening  the  journey,  by 


y  recommended,  as 
THE  BARON. 


A  PLEA  FOR  POOR-LAW  OFFICERS. 

(Dedicated  to  our  Civic  "  Guardian"  Angels.) 

'Tis  hard  to  call  a  civic  gent  a  sinner 

Because  he 's  fond — who  "s  not  ? — of  a  good  dinner. 

The  hand  that  has  to  wield  Law's  sword,  or  truncheon, 

Needs  strengthening — by  a  luxurious  luncheon. 

You  can't  expect  bigwigs,  at  Bow  or  Sutton, 

To  keep  their  wisdom  working  on  cold  mutton. 

Though  paupers  stoop  to  "  skilly  "  or  "  cold  scran  " — well, 

Their  guardians  at  Homerton  or  Hanwell 

Their  strength  must  renovate,  its  loss  recoup 

On  rump-steak  pudding  after  ox-tail  soup ; 

String  up  their  nerves,  by  generous  labour  shaken, 

On  a  hot  saddle,  or  roast  fowls  and  bacon  : 

Shall  not  the  guardian  soothe  his  anguished  heart 

On  Bakewell  pudding  or  on  rhubarb  tart, 

Or  his  dejected  spirit  strive  to  cheer 

\Vith  limpid  sherry  or  cool  bitter  beer? 

Nay  ;  grudge  not  poor-law  patrons  beef  or  wine  ! 

Paupers  must  fast  that  guardians  may  dine. 


THE   RED,  WHITE,   AND  BLUE. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  was  inspecting  a  quantity  of  ribbons  to- 
day, manufactured  specially,  so  I  was  informed  by  the  intelli- 
gent and  courteous  haberdasher,  for  display  on  the  occasion 
of  Her  Majesty's  Jubilee.  As  all  of  the  fabrics  in  question  were, 
I  noticed,  made  in  France,  Germany,  and  Switzerland,  I  was 
not  surprised  to  note  that  the  combinations  represented  with 
great  accuracy  the  national  Tricolors  of  the  French  Republic 
and  the  Dutch  Monarchy.  Don't  you  think  that  some  Union 
Jack  stuff  would  be  more  appropriate  to  this  splendid  anniver- 
sary ?  And  can't  some  of  our  own  silk  weavers  turn  out  the 
article  ?  Or  has  the  art  of  Spitalfields  and  Coventry  been  for 
ever  destroyed  by  the  glorious  era  of  Free  Trade  ? 

Yours  loyally  and  patriotically, 

Portsmouth.  JOHN  STARBOARD. 


Holiday  Wisdom. 

(An  Easter  Homily.) 

WHAT  shall  we  do  for  a  holiday  task, 

Just  to  ensure  us  a  useful  and  jolly  day? 

Loll  by  the  sea,  in  the  sun  idly  bask  ; 
Sand-heap  for  pillow,  and  kerchief  for  mask. 

Lazily,  drowsily,  briar  and  flask 

Ready  at  elbow  when  yearning  shall  ask 

Peace  from  the  pipe-bowl,  and  joy  from  the  cask. 
The  best  holiday  task  is — enjoying  one's  holiday ! 


At  the  New  Restaurant. 

Customer.  Waiter !     Bring  me  a  beefsteak ! 
Waiter.  Yessir.     Would    you     like     it    stamped 
Canada,"  or  branded  "Cut  in  South  America?  " 


"  Made    in 


"As  Seeing^  the  Invisible." 

WE  hear  a  deal  now  of  "  invisible  light," 

By  which  savans  see  through  the  opaque  and  the  murky. 
This  surely  must  aid  our  SILOMIO'S  sight, 

Which  sees  "  signs  of  improvement  in  Turkey  "111 


APRIL  24,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CIIARIVAIM. 


197 


THE  SINEWS  OF  WAB  AT  A  DISCOUNT. 

SCKNB — An  Audience  Chamber  in  Constantinople.     Autocrat  and  his 
Minister  discovered  in  consultation. 

Autocrat  (imperatively).  We  must  send  the  cavalry  to  the 
rent  at  once  I 

Minister.  Impossible,  your  Majesty.  We  haven't  a  single 
reliable  saddle  in  the  place. 

Autocrat  (with  determination).  Then  move  up  the  artillery 
with  the  least  possible  delay. 

Minister.  Out  of  the  question  I  All  the  wheels  of  the  guns 
are  out  of  repair,  and  we  can't  purchase  new  ones. 

Autocrat  (authoritatively).  Then  let  the  infantry  advance  at 
the  double. 

Minister.  Not  to  be  thought  of,  your  Majesty!  They  have 
no  boota,  are  months  in  arrear  with  their  pay,  and  won't  march 
a  step,  and,  frankly,  we  haven't  the  money  for  their  railway  fares. 

Autocrat  (in  a  plaintive  tone).  Then  what  can  we  afford? 

Minister  (after  reflection).  Well,  Sire,  I  think  we  might 
manage  to  squeeze  out  of  the  Treasury  enough  to  buy  a  rocket, 
two  squibs,  and  a  Catherine  wheel.  [Curtain. 


A  REAL  GOOD  TIME  ! 

(An  American  Girl's  Anticipation  of  the  Jubilee  Year.) 

["  A  '  Titled  Lady  '  advertises  in  the  Times  that  she  would  '  chaperon  and 
introduce  a  young  lady  into  the  very  highest  Society.'  .  .  .  '  American  and 
Coloiiial  girls  wishing  to  have  a  good  season  in  town  are  iimted  to  com- 
municate.' " — Wntmiiuter  Oatette.} 

Snakes!  1 1    "Lady  of  Title,"  wha*.  solid  requital, 

In  dollars  and  cents,  Marm, 
Will  you  be  requiring  for  labour  so  tiring  P 

Do  tell  1     You  're  immense,  Mann  1 1 1 
I  've  travelled,  with  Poppa,  from  Pans  to  Joppa, 

But,  just  for  variety, 
Should  like  introduction,   'neath  "Titled"  conduction, 

To  "  highest  Society." 
Of  course  you  're  a  Duchess  1    I  wonder  how  much  is 

A  Duchess's  tariff 
For  trotting  this  girl  out  I     It  takes  all  my  curl  out, 

And  unhangs  my  hair  I     If 
One 's  shoddy  or  shady,  will  this  "  Titled  Lady  " 

Show — say  Lord  TOM  NODDY, — 
A  nice  gyurl  (Amurrican)  "  goes  "  like  a  hurricane, 

Though  Pop  be  shoddy  ? 
My  Pop's  petroleum.     Ma  was  linoleum. 

Pop  is  an  odd-fish. 
But  I  and  CABBY,  I  reckon,  have  nary 

A  touch  of  the  cod-fish. 
High-toned?    You  bet  it.     And  don't  you  forget  it  I 

I  calculate  CARRY 
Is  Marlborough-House-ish,  although  her  hair 's  mouseish. 

She  just  means  to  marry 
Some  Duke,  not  built  boobily — during  this  Jubilee. 

Worst  of  you  British, 
Your  Dukes  ore  such  duffers  I     A  Yankee  gyurl  suffers, 

If  smeart.  spry,  and  skittish, 
A  big  "noble"  noodle,  who's  after  the  "hoodie," 

Will  turn  "  nicey-pioey  "  ; 
But  that  don't  embellish  him.     Guess  I  more  relish  him 

Uppish  and  icy. 
These  seem     confessions,"  perhaps.     But,  O  Sessions! 

'Twill  be  kinder  funny 
If  Dukes,  with  lean  coffers,  aren't  spry  in  their  offers, 

Our  style,  and  Pop's  money, 
Did  ought  to  be  fetchin  I     Fact,  CABBY  is  sketchin' 

Her  path  to  a  Peerage. 
But  this  "  Titled  Lady  "  ?     Well,  England  is  "  grady," 

And  this  is  a  queer  age, 
And  as  I  've  a  reason  to  '•  wish  a  good  Season," 

And  "  knock  out "  that  puny  KATB, 
Pop's  pardner"s  daughter,  who 's  dead  for  Duke-slaughter, 

I  guess  I  11  "  communicate  "  I 


GAINING  TIMH. — To  reduce  the  journey  from  Liverpool  t 
Berlin  by  a  matter  of  "  five  and  a  half  hours,"  as  the  London  an 
North  Western  Company  are  about  to  do  by  using  the  London 
Chatham  and  Doyers  Queenborough  branch  to  Holland,  is  a 
item  of  no  inconsiderable  consideration  to  all  travellers,  special! 
those  in  a  hurry.  If  "time  is  money,"  then  here  is,  a  savin 
indeed  1  It  seems  a  good  thing  all  round,  and  the  "  taking 
quantity"  is  pretty  certain  to  follow  the  "reduction." 


Sculptor.  "You  PAINTBR  CHAPS  HAVE  ALL  TH«  LUCK  ;  NO  MATTER 

HOW   BADLY  YOU   PAINT.  YOUK  PlCTURM  ALWAYS  LOOK   BETTER  AFTER 
A   FBW  YEARS.      NOW  TlMX  NEVER  IMPROVES   OUR  THINGS  !  " 

Fainter.    "  WILL,  NO,  UNLESS— PERHAPS— ll  SHOCKS  orr  A  HKAD 
OR  A*  Ann/"  


"THE  CANDID  FRIEND'S  GUIDE." 

THE  courtesy  of  the  learned  author  has  enabled  us  to  obtain 
a  brief  glance  at  the  proof  sheets  of  this  interesting  work. 

The  author  begins  his  labours,  as  all  good  authors  ought  to  do, 
with  a  great  prelace,  in  which  he  is  at  much  pains  to  trace  the 
Rise,  Origin,  and  Progress  of  the  Candid  Friend. 

Perhaps,  however,  the  most  interesting,  and,  from  a  meta- 
physical point  of  view,  valuable,  portion  ot  the  Guide  is  the  ad- 
mirable collection  of  maxims,  for  the  use  of  those  who  aspire  to 
become  Candid  Friends,  with  which  our  author  terminates  his 
learned  labours.  We  have  space,  and  the  author's  permission, 
to  reproduce  one  or  two  of  them. 

Under  the  head  of  "  Friends  in  Difficulties  "  we  find  the  follow- 
ing judicious  maxim.  "Ne7er  encourage  a  friend  in  difficulty 
to  believe  for  an  instant  that  you  have  either  the  power  or  the 
inclination  to  assist  him,  for  if  you  do  you  will  certainly  ruin 
him,  and  you.  on  your  part,  will  forfeit  all  claim  to  the  title  of 
Candid  Friend.  On  the  other  hand,  do  not  neglect  the  excellent 
opportunity  provided  you  by  his  misfortune  to  rebuke  him  severely 
on  the  subject  of  his  extravagance,  rashness,  want  of  principle, 
or  whatever  the  particular  indiscretion  may  be  that  has  caused 
him  to  seek  your  assistance.  Under  no  circumstances  whatever 
lend  him  any  money." 

The  following  admirable  maxim  will  be  found  under  the  head 
of  "  Conceited  Friends."  "  People  who  are  unreasonably  happy 
or  prosperous  stand  sadly  in  need  of  the  services  of  the  Candid 
Friend,  who  should  do  everything  in  his  power  to  discourage 
them.  Perhaps  the  best  way  to  do  this  is  to  talk  dismally, 
and  to  make  the  most  melancholy  grimaces  whenever  he  meets 
them  Should  they,  however,  survive  this  spirited  treatment, 
the  best  thing  the  Candid  Friend  can  do  under  these  circum- 
stances is,  to  'cut'  them." 


198 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[ApuiL  24,  1897. 


Lady.  "I  WAS  AWFULLY  SORRY,  PROFESSOR,  I  WAS  UNABLE  TO  COME  TO  YOUR  LECTURE  LAST  NIGHT.      WERE  THERE  MANY  TULRE?" 
The  Professor  (Irish).  "  UM — WELL — NOT  so  MANY  AS  I  EXPECTED.      BUT  I  NEVER  THOUGHT  THERE  WOULD  BE!" 


QUITE  AN  EASTEE  HOLIDAY. 

(By  Our  Own  Impressionist.') 

ONLY  a  few  days  for  a  jaunt.  Must  be 
home  almost  before  I  have  started.  Crowd 
at  the  Victoria  Station.  Pause  at  Herne 
Hill.  Long  tunnel.  Beckenham  Junction. 
Chatham.  Slowed  down  to  see  castle  and 
cathedral  from  half-a-dozen  points  of  view. 
Faversham.  Canterbury.  Dover.  Lord 
Warden.  The  other  side.  French  terri- 
tory. Good  buffet.  Amiens.  Paris. 
Boulevards.  Breakfast.  In  the  train 
again.  Lyons.  Marseilles.  Nice.  Monte 
Carlo.  Twenty  minutes  for  refreshment. 
Ten  minutes  at  a  Napoleon  per  five 
seconds.  Last  turn  comes  up  right.  No 
more  time  for  roulette.  The  Corniche  Road. 
Genoa.  Venice.  Lounging  in  gondolas. 
Impressed  with  San  Marco.  Also  with  the 
Cafe  Florian.  Off  again.  Rome.  St. 
Peter's.  Ancient  ruins.  Modern  improve- 
ments. Impressive.  Off  to  Pisa.  Leaning 
Tower  a  fraud.  Does  not  lean  nearly 
enough.  Florence.  Pictures  and  a  good 
English  chemist.  Lago  Maggiore.  Stresa. 
Isola  Bella  a  mistake.  Gardens  not  equal 
to  Hampton  Court.  Over  the  Simpfon. 
Domo  d'Ossola,  although  frontier  town, 
the  most  Italian-looking  place  yet  seen. 
Brigue.  From  various  points  of  view. 
Mount  and  descend.  Vevey  good  place  for 
tiny  cigars.  Steamboat  on  the  Lake  of 
Geneva.  Prisoner  in  tower.  Ouchy. 
Better  than  Lausanne.  Table  d'hote  at 
Beau  Rivage  excellent.'  Geneva.  Mont 
Blanc  in  the  distance.  Train  to  Paris. 


Grande  Vitesse.  Once  more  in  Paris. 
Tour  of  the  Bpis.  Dinner  in  the  Champs 
Elysees.  Ladies  looking  cold  in  open-air 
concert.  Night  mail.  Amiens  as  before. 
Calais.  Dover  sea-front.  Lighted  by 
electricity.  Arrival.  Departure.  Early 
morning.  Canterbury,  Faversham,  Chat- 
ham, and  Herne  Hill.  Victoria.  Luggage. 
Home  once  more.  And  glad  to  be  there. 


A  BERLIN! 
(Song  by  the  Right  Hm.  G.  C-rz-n,  M.P.) 

I  WILL  not  be  "  the  Boy  in  charge  " 

At  the  "  F.  O."  to  stay, 
While  all  the  others  are  at  large, 

And  S-L-SB-RY  away! 
(So  boldly  I  expressed  my  views.) 

I  won't  be  kept  at  work 
In  town,  awaiting  any  news 

Of  Cretan  or  of  Turk. 
When  the  Punch  "  cut "  I  saw,  where  I 

Was  shown  as  being  left 
To  do  the  work  of  S-L-SB-ry, 

Of  holiday  bereft, 
Says  I,  "  I  '11  do  '  a  cut '  I    I  '11  go 

Abroad  I     I  've  time  and  tin  1 
So,  au  revoir  to  the  'F.  O.' 

Address  me  '  at  Berlin '  I " 


Domestic   Economy. 

WHY  can  the  simple  letter  "  s  " 

Make  housewives,  for  the  future,  heedless 
Of  holes  in  stockings,  rents  in  dress  ? — 

Becauso  it  renders  needles — needless. 


WATTS  FOR  WH1TECHAPEL. 


pictures,  explained  aa  they  will  be  to  the  White- 
chapel workers,  will  be  as  good  as  sermons,  and 
probably  more  attractive  than  many."  Canon 
UARNETT  appeals  for  £20,000  to  build  a  Picture 
Gallery  in  High  Street,  Whitechapel,  as  a  Diamond 
Jubilee  Gift  to  the  East  End.  Of  this  sum  £7,000 
has  already  been  ofl'ered.] 

OH!  East  is  East,  and  West  is  West,  as 

RUDYABD  KIPLING  says. 
When  the  poor  East  enjoys  the  Art  for 

which  the  rich  West  pays, 
See  East  and  West  linked  at  their  best  I 

With  the  Art-wants  of  Whitechapel 
Good  Canon  BABNETT  is  just  the  man  who 

best  knows  how  to  grapple. 
So  charge  this  Canon,  load  to  the  muzzle, 

all  ye  great  Jubilee  guns. 
Pictures  as  good  as  sermons  ?     Ay  ;   much 

better  than  some  poor  ones. 
Where  Whitechapel's  darkness  the  weary 

eyes  of  the  dreary  workers  dims, 
It  may  be  found  that  WATTS'S  pictures  do 

better  than  WATTS'S  hymns. 


Out  of  Evil,   Good. 

Johnson  (meeting  Thompson  in  the  Park). 
My  dear  fellow,  what  on  earth  is  that 
canary  doing  in  your  dog's  muzzle  P 

Thompson.  Well,  you  see,  the  bird  and 
the  terrier  are  great  friends,  and  now, 
owing  to  the  new  Order,  I  'm  able  to  take 
them  out  for  an  airing  together. 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— APKII,  24,  1897. 


THE   CRISIS!!! 


TELEGRAPH  BOY.  "HERE!     TELEOBAM  FROM  THE  EAST—  •  SALISBURY '— •  UBGENT ' I " 
CARETAKEK.  "DRAT  THE  BOY!     THERE'S  NOBODY  'ERE,  AND  WON'T  BE  FOR  A  FORTN1T!" 


APRIL  24,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


201 


A   NAPPY  THOUGHT  AT  THE 
LYCEUM. 

HIT  was  this  idea  of  playing  Nap  an 
"  '"Ppy  thought  "  on  the  part  of  our  HKNRY 
IRVING  or  iioti'  Did  it  show  our  HENRY 
very  wide  awake,  or  wan  he  for  once  and 
away  "caught  napping  "r1  That  is  tin 
question. 

That  Mias  KI.LKN  TKRBY  .should  be  the 
life  and  soul  of  SARDOU'S  and  MOREAU'B 
French  play,  Madame  Hatis-Gene^  was 
what  any  one  conversant  with  the  English 
stage  would  have  expected.  She  i-  .1 
charming  Madame  Sans-Uine.  Her 
washer-woman  is  not  quite  so  vulgar  as  was 
that  of  Madame  KEJANB,  and  therefore  our 
English  actress's  portrayal  of  the  character 
is  not  so  lifo-like,  not  so  "  convincing,"  to 
adopt  the  modern  critical  cant- word,  as  was 
the  French  actress's  impersonation  of  the 
character.  lint  it  is  KI.I.KN  TKKKV  as 
Minliiiiti'  Sam-Gene,  and  that,  for  most 
play-goers,  is  enougn. 

That  the  play,  not  a  particularly  good 
one  to  start  with,  loses  ia  this  translation, 
is  evidenced  not  only  by  the  adapter  hav- 
ing made  the  French  washer-woman  of 
171*2  talk  London  slang  of  1897,  but  also 
by  the  absurdity  of  retaining  the  scene 
where  Napoleon  and  his  sisters  "  drop  into 
Corsican,''  when  they  are  having  a  family 
squabble.  This  lapsus  liny  UK:  was  natural 
enough  in  the  French  play,  but  it  is  all 
"  sound  and  fury  signifying  nothing "  in 
this  English  version.  It  must  be  supposed 
either  tnat  the  common  sense  of  the  trans- 
lating adapter,  Air.  ('AUK,  was  overruled, 
or  that  he  could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to 
sacrifice  to  the  exigencies  of  the  English 
stage  what  had  been  so  taking  a  scene, 
because  so  natural,  with  a  French  audience. 

That  Sir  HKNKV  IRVING  could  ever  have 
imagined  that  the  English  public,  perfectly 
familiar  with  the  face  and  figure  •  f  NAPO- 
I.KON,  would  accept  him  as  the  counterpart 
of  "  le  petit  caporal,"  is  a  proof  that  he 
knows  his  public  and  has  rightly  gauged  his 
own  popularity.  HENRY  IRVING  is  as  like 
NAPOLEON  as  he  can  be ;  and  if  NAPOLEON 
wasn't  like  HENHY  IRVINO,  so  much  the 
worse  for  NAPOLEON.  It  is  as  simply  im- 
possible for  him  to  give  us  in  niiuvli  an 
exact  "living  picture"  of  NAPOLEON,  as  it 
would  be  for  him  to  appear  as  the  dwarf 
Sir  GEOFFREY  HUDSON.  All  else  is  beside 
the  question.  Napoleonic  attitudes  da  not 
make  NAPOLEON  ;  but  the  piece,  which  is 
remarkable  neither  for  striking  novelty  of 
plot  nor  for  brilliancy  of  dialogue,  must 
depend  for  its  success  mainly  on  public 
curiosity  to  see  how  Sir  HENRY  IRVING  con- 
trives to  reduce  himself  to  physical  Napo- 
leonic proportions,  and  how  delightful  is 
the  Madame  Sans-Gene  of  Miss  KI.I.KN 
TKRRY. 

Mr.  FRANK  COOPER  is  good  as  the  brusque 
soldier  Lefebvre,  afterwards  Due  de  llant- 
xig;  and  Mr.  MACKINTOSH  gives  his  own 
idea  of  what  Fouche,  the  celebrated  Minis- 
ter of  Police,  might  have  been  had  he  been 
created  by  Mr.  MACKINTOSH.  For  the  stale 
device  of  creaking  the  snuff-box  lid  as  a 
warning,  Messrs.  SARDOU  and  MORKAU  are 
indebted  to  the  same  "  business  "  in  liol-crt 
Macaire,  whenever  that  accomplished 
scoundrel  wishes  to  hint  to  his  accomplice, 
Jacques  Strop,  that  he  had  better  be  care- 
ful. Surely  this  very  unoriginal  idea  of 
Messrs.  SAP.DOU  and  MORKAU  might  have 
been  improved  upon  by  the  English 
adapter. 

Years  age  the  present  writer  can  call  to 
mind  BENJAMIN  WEBSTER  assuming  the 


character  of  Napiilton  in  apiece  called  The 
1'retty  Girlt  of  Slithery.  That  was  a  mar- 
vellous impersonation ;  but  then  BEN 
WKBSTEK,  though  a  trifle  too  tall,  had  just 
the  very  face  for  the  Emperor.  His  wig 
with  the  notable  lock  of  hair  was  perfect ; 
Sir  HENRY'S  wig  does  not  remind  one  of 
the  best  known  portrait*  of  NAPOLBON. 


ONLY  HALF  A  NAP, — HIS  JIKTTKK  HALF. 

Sir  Henry  a*  Napoleon  reflect*  that  if  only  he 
could  have  worn 


The  familiar  grey  overcoat  and  the  well-known 
cocked  hat,  and  played  the  part  sitting  down, 
how  much  more  like  he  could  hare  looked ! 

Perhaps  the  cleverest  stage  impersonation 
of  NAPOLEON  (but  it  was  only  for  a  few 
minutes)  was  when  CHARLOTTE  SAUNDERS 
suddenly  appeared  as  the  great  Emperor 
confronting  JOHNNIE  CI.ARKK,  who,  as 
Louis  Napoleon,  exclaimed,  "Oh,  my  pro- 
phetic soul !  my  uncle  I  "  in  the  last  scene 
of  BYRON'S  burlesque  of  The  Lady  of  Lyons 
at  the  Strand  Theatre.  Sir  HENRY'S  im- 


pursonatiou  may  be  courteously  termed  an 
"ideal  NAPOLEON." 

11  Sir  HENRY  litvi.su  Lt  as  pleased  with 
Mr.  COMY.SS  CAKK'S  version  ol  Mwlaim- 
>u/i  .!-<•'<  fir  as,  in  bis  urst-mgnt  - 
betore  the  curtain,  hu  proles-st-u  hiuisult  to 
be,  and  as,  ot  course,  he  must  nave  been  to 
have  produced  it  at  all,  then  such  a  gra- 
tuitous assurance  Horn  hut  own  lips  must 
be  good  enougn  for  tue  public,  seeing  tliat 
"  praise  from  air  HUBERT  STANLEY  is  appro- 
bation indued  1"  It  would  be  well  lor 
dramatic  authors  generally,  whenever  there 
may  be  any  doubt  as  to  u.e  uuluor  »  toiare 
in  the  success  ot  a  new  play,  wi-ro  the 
manager,  following  Sir  UK.VHY  s  example, 
to  su'p  before  thu  curtain,  and  courteously 
but  decidedly  deprecate  all  criticism  an- 
tagonistic to  the  dramatist,  by  candidly 
avowing  his  own  entire  satisfaction  witu 
the  new  work,  whatever  might  have  been 
its  reception.  For  the  production  of  any 
piece  ttie  manager  alone  is  responsible  to 
uie  public.  Mr.  CAUR,  representing  Messrs. 
MAKUOU  and  MORKAU,  is  10  be  heartily  con- 
gratulated on  having  his  work  played  by  so 
excellent  a  company,  and  having  his  praises 
sung  by  so  generous  and  loyal  a  manager , 
and,  as  the  play  is  splendidly  put  on  the 
stage,  and  as  irom  first  to  last  J£LLEN  TERRY 
ia  seen  at  her  brightest,  Madame  fians- 
Uene,  with  some  judicious  pruning,  will 
probably  prove  a  considerable  attraction 
"  in  this  Year  of  Jubilee  I " 


TO  HELLAS. 

(By  a  Perplexed  "Power."    A  long  way  after 
Ji.  A.  Poe'i  "  To  Helen,1) 

["  In  the  name  of  our  great  mother  llellaa,  who 
ha*  called  u»  together  lu  Uiis  sacred  struggle  from 
all  land*  where  lireelu  live." — Proclamation  of 
Jjt .  Polttu  to  the  At/i«u<  Uctuir>a.\ 

HKI.T.AB,  thy  shindy  is  to  me 
Like  GARIBALDI'S  bark  of  yore. 

Our  ships  are  on  the  Cretan  sea, 
Thy  bands  are  on  the  Cretan  shore ; 
Which  is  a  beastly  bore  I 

On  desperate  games  long  wont  to  roam, 
Thy  hyacinth  hair,  thy  classic  face, 

Thy  quilted  skirts,  make  bardlings  foam 
Of  the  glory  that  was  Greece, 

Of  the  grandeur  that  was  Home. 

Lo,  trying  to  queer  the  Concert's  pitch, 
Bellona-like  1  see  thee  stand, 
The  torch  of  war  within  thine  hand  I 

Ah,  Mischief,  from  the  regions  which 
Were  great  and  grand  I 


DUBINO  THE  RECESS. 

LORD  S-L-BB-RY  will  appear  in  a  tourist 
suit  by  the  sad  sea  waves  down  south. 

Mr.  ABTH-R  B-LF-B  will  show  the  natives 
how  to  play  golf. 

Mr.  C-RZ-N  will  not  stay  in  town,  but 
enjoy  himself  away  from  the  cares  of  office. 

Mr.  CH-MB-RL-N  will  accompany  Sir 
FR-N  K  L-OKW-D  in  a  tour  round  the  "monu- 
ments" of  Paris. 

The  L-RD  M-Y-R  will  appear  by  deputy 
in  the  Mansion  House. 

Mr.  BR-WN  will  announce  his  departure 
from  town  in  one  daily  paper. 

Mr.  J-N-S  will  inform  the  world  of  his 
arrival  on  the  continent  in  a  second  journal. 

Mr.  R-B-NS-N  will  publish  a  list  of  his 
movements  in  a  third  periodical. 

The  ordinary  events  of  the  universe  will 
go  on  as  per  usual. 


202 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  24,  1897. 


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APRIL  24,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


203 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  KKOM  iw»    DIAHT  OF  TOUT,  M.P. 

House  of  Commons,  Monday,  April  12. 
— Principal  business  of  to-day's  me. 'tint: 
was  to  arrange  for  Easter  Holidays.  Inci- 
dentally thoro  were  some  speeches  about 
affairs  in  Crete;  but  intiKil  business  was 
the  adjournment  over  Kaster.  When 
question  about  to  be  put,  SAOB  OF  QUEEN 
ANNE'S  GATB  moved  amendment  proposing 
that  instead  of  making  holiday,  Members 
should  remain  at  Westminster  and  keep 
their  eye  on  the  Government.  A  grim  sort 
of  joke,  submitted  with  great  gravity, 
treated  by  SPEAKER  with  imperturbable 
mien.  His  not  to  reason  why.  Here  was 
resolution  moved  by  the  Leader,  that  on 
rising  the  House  do  adjourn  till  Monday, 
26th  of  April.  Another  Member  moved  to 
omit  certain  words.  If  amendment  were 
carried  there  would  be  no  holidays  for  any- 
body ;  House  would,  unless  it  further  or- 
dered, sit  on  Good  Friday. 

Nothing  more  nobly  unselfish  recently 
performed  on  public  stage.  When  the  di- 
vision was  taken,  it  appeared  that,  tellers 
included,  there  were  fifty-one  men  who 
held  their  country  dearer  than  their  own 
delight,  a  gallant  half-hundred  ready  to 
sacrifice  a  well-earned  holiday  in  order  to 
keep  unwinking  eye  on  Her  Majesty's 
Ministers.  It  was  a  forlorn  hope.  The 
battle  was  lost  before  the  first  blow  was 
struck.  But  what  of  that  ?  It  is  even  pos- 
sible that,  had  the  SAGE  and  his  faithful 
fifty  been  certain  that  in  the  Division 
Lobby  they  would  have  overcome,  they 
would  have  shrunk  from  the  encounter. 
Anyone  could  win  who  commanded  a  nu- 
merical majority.  For  some  brave  hearts 
the  irresistible  attraction  lies  in  the 
certainty  of  everwhelming  defeat.  So, 
silently,  doggedly,  they  passed  into  the 
lobby,  and  were  swamped  by  the  Minis- 
terial horde. 

SARK  says  it  reminds  him  of  a  scene  in 
CoRNErLLE's  Horafr.  where  Jloraff,  is  la- 
menting the  disgrace  he  supposes  has  been 
brought  upon  him  by  the  flight  of  his  son 
in  combat  with  the  Curiaees.  "Q\if.  vovliez- 
vovs  qu'il  fit  eontre  troisf"  asks  Ju/tV. 
"  Qu'il  mnuriit !"  the  old  man  passionately 
exclaims.  What  could  the  SAOB  and  his 
fearless  fifty  do  against  the  more  than  two 
hundred  kept  together  by  the  Whips? 
They  could  have  died  ;  and  (of  course  using 
tho  word  in  a  Parliamentary  sense)  so  they 
did,  each  one  faced  by  four. 

It  is  true  thev  had  their  reward,  for  they 
got  their  holiday  in  addition  to  havinp 
posed  as  ready  to  scorn  delights  and  live 
laborious  days  for  their  country.  But  that 
was  a  mere  accident  of  the  situation,  and 
does  not  dim  its  heroism.  Since  the  hun- 
dred Members  signed  a  memorial  to  the 
King  of  GREECE  bidding  him  keep  on  fight- 
ing, and  then,  getting  into  tho  family  'bus, 
went  off  to  their  several  homes,  no  such 
gallant  deed  has  been  done  at  Westminster. 

BJMI  n««  done.  —  Adjourned  for  Easter 
Holidays. 

On  the  Basingstoke  Road. 

Farmer  (to  stalicart  sergeant  of  police). 
Hullo !  what  was  the  matter  with  those 
lady  cyclists,  whom  you  stopped? 

Sergeant.  Well,  I  can  stand  a  good  deal 
from  the  fair  sex,  but  I  'm  blowed  if  it 
isn't  past  a  joke  when  three  of  'em  come 
riding  on  the  footpath,  ringing  their  bells 
for  me  io  get  off  it ! 


S  -o  <v 


SIDE    LIGHTS    ON    THE    NEW    MUZZLING    ORDER. 

WHAT  IT  MIORT  COMB  TO. 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

An  Officer  crippled  in  action  reminds  a  former 
Partner  of  the  Jubilee  of  1887. 

ONLY  ten  years  since  first  we  met  I 

A  century  it  seems  to  roe. 
Can  either  of  us  e'er  forget 

That  joyous  time  of  Jubilee  P 
When  you  had  only  just  come  out, 

Quite  chicken-like  from  schoolroom  shell, 
And  I  was  but  a  dreadful  lout 

Who  deemed  himself  a  London  swell. 

At  Lady  TWF.KDI.KDKK'S  you  sat 

With  such  a  mute,  appealing  glance, 
Until — bis  dot  gut  lente  dat — 

I  nerved  myself  to  crave  a  dance. 
A  pretty  blush  and  bow,  then  dumb 

With  joint  delight  we  whirled  away. 
A  polka  I    Ah !  its  rum-ti-tum 

Is  throbbing  in  my  head  to-day  I 

You  wore  a  robe  of  clinging  white, 

Such  as  a  fairy  queen  might  choose, 
With  lilies  of  the  water  sprite 

And  roses  of  the  faintest  hues. 
Your  gems  were  sapphires  blue  as  sea, 

That  shone  beside  your  dainty  nose, 
And  pearls  in  coral  shown  to  me 

Whene'er  I  trod  upon  your  toes. 

And  so  we  danced  the  season  through, 

As  happy  as  young  hearts  could  be  ; 
Was  I  in  love  ?    I  scarcely  knew. 

Were  you  in  love  P — well,  not  with  me  I 
I  never  dared  to  gauge  your  mind, 

But  distance  now  enchantment  lends, 
Perhaps  you  might  have  been  more  kind 

Instead  of  being  the  best  of  friends. 

And  here 's  another  Jubilee, 
And  all  the  world  is  just  as  gay 

As  when  there  shone  for  you  and  me 
That  other  sun  of  yesterday ! 


My  dancing  seems  a  wretched  ghost 
That  haunts  a  cripple  for  his  sins, 

While  you,  I  see  by  Thursday's  Pott, 
Have  just  enriched  the  world  with  twins ! 


ADVERTISEMENTS  FOR  THE  MILLION. 

ANGELINA.  —  I>r*y  forgive  me.  I 
have  bought  the  Patent  Self-grinding 
Coffee  Pot.  It  it  the  best  of  its  kind,  and 
the  cheapest.  I  paid  12s.  M.  for  it  at 
SLOCUMS,  Buncomb  Street.  Po  now  you 
must  be  satisfied.  Come  home.  —  Ecwnr. 


D~MREST"~MOTHER.—  Have  you  seen 
the  Union  Jack  Paratol  '  ft  will  be 
the  rage  of  the  Diamond  Jubilee.  You  can 
get  it  at  all  the  shops  and  stores.  The 
design  has  been  registered  by  BLISTER- 
BOROUOH,  the  celebrated  drapers  in  St. 
Peter's  Churchyard.  Cousin  BESSY  has 
bought  four.  We  thought  we  must  tell 
vou  the  news.  —  Your  loving  daughters, 
MAY  and  ALEXANDRA. 

NAPOLEON  is  the  rage.  Not  only  at 
the  Lyceum,  for  he  is  popular,  too, 
in  the  St.  James's  Arcade.  It  is  the  uni- 
versal opinion  of  the  traders  there  that  had 
he  used  SKIP  &  Run's  Champion  Boot*,  he 
would  have  been  the  victor  at  Waterloo  ! 


TO  JOHN  JONES,  ESQ.,  BARRISTEK- 
AT-LAW.— Pray  take  notice  that  the 
Eureka  Kokalorum  Head-wash  is  the  best 
preparation  for  strengthening  and  increas- 
ing the  growth  of  the  hair. — Kosrs,  RH- 
TAINER  &  Exis,  Solicitors. 

T1IH  HOX.  MK.S.  VKRK  I>E  VERB 
BELGRAVIA.  of  No.  379A,  Windsor 
Castle  Residences,  W.,  begs  to  recommend 
KTTBL'S  Wigs  to  all  her  friends,  relatives 
and  acquaintances.  A  perfect  fit  guar- 
anteed. At  home  first  Mondays. 


204 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[APRIL  24,  1897. 


Y 


THE    UNDO*    POLICEMAN'S    SUMMER    COSTUME. 

A  POSSIBLE  FUTURE  DEVELOPMENT. 


THAT  CONCERT. 

TALK  about  the  Gordian  Knot  1     That  a  tangle  ?     Rubbish !  rot  1 

It  was  nothing  to  our  general  mix  to-day. 
A  modern  ALEXANDER  would  be  looked  on  as  a  gander, 

For  you  see  "  decisive  action  "  does  not  pay. 
We  've  a  "  European  Concert,"  and  by  Jove,  if  anyone  's  hurt, 

He  must  not  cry  out  and  so  disturb  the  tutti. 
For  our  mighty  "  Monday  Pop,"  at  the  least  excuse  would  stop, 

And  to  keep  it  going  's  everyone's  first  duty, 
For  if  the  big  drum  burst,  or  the  fiddle  known  as  first 

Were  to  break  a  string — a  whisper  slight  might  do  it ! — 
All  the  players  left  and  right  would  at  once  begin  to  fight, 

And  then,  by  Jingo,  all  the  world  would  rue  it. 
"  Go,  lovely  Peace  !        Oh,  yes!     Lovely  Peace  would  go,  I  guess. 

No,  you  mustn't  stir  or  whisper,  cough  or  jar, 
And  if  there 's  any  "  spoken  "  straight  that  Concert  will  be  broken, 

And  then  there  'd  be  a  European  War ! ! ! 

Oh,  Orpheus,  when  yow  twangled  not  a  wild  beast  growled  or 
wrangled, 

The  Bear  the  couching  Lion  laid  his  head  on ; 
But  now  it  is  the  Brutes  play  the  fiddles,  fifes  and  flutes, 

And  if  Orpheus  interferes  it 's — Armageddon ! 


At   Brighton. 

Visitor.  Why,  Mrs.  FLINTER,  your  lodgings  are  a  pound  a 
week  dearer  than  they  were  last  year  1 

Mrs.  F.  Yes,  Ma'am,  but  you  see  there's  so  many  antiquari- 
ums  come  down  to  inspect  the  ruins  of  the  Chain  Pier  that  we 
don't  know  where  to  put  'em ! 


TRULY  NATIONAL ! 

(Prophetic  Report  of  a  Coming  Council. ) 

"  THERE  seems  to  be  no  doubt,"  observed  the  General  Com- 
manding, "  that  the  mission  of  the  Volunteers  has  been  entirely 
misunderstood." 

"  With  the  greatest  possible  respect  I  beg  to  differ,"  returned 
the  Auxiliary  C.  O.  "  Our  motto  is  defence,  and  not  defiance." 

"  My  good  Sir,"  continued  the  Regular,  "  what  earthly  use 
can  you  be  protecting  Putney  or  Paddington,  instead  of  carry- 
ing the  war  into  the  enemy's  country  ?  At  this  moment  at  such 
a  crisis  you  should  be  marching  on  the  enemy's  capital." 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  another  Volunteer  Colonel.  "  We  are  es- 
sentially for  home  use.  Let  the  foe  tread  our  sacred  soil  and  we  take 
the  advice  of  the  First  Duke  of  WELLINGTON  and  '  rise  up  and  at 
'em.'  That  is  our  object,  and  no  other." 

"  Well,  then,  you  must  wait  until  you  have  the  chance.  I  am 
aware  that  the  Fleet  ia  away  off  the  coast  of  China,  but  as  yet 
we  have  not  heard  of  an  invasion." 

"Of  course  not,"  said  the  Commanding  Royal  Engineer. 
"How  could  we?  Why,  all  the  wires  were  cut  at  eight  o'clock 
this  morning.  I  should  have  considered  the  matter  serious  were 
it  not  that  I  know  that  schoolboys  are  thoughtless  and  mis- 
chievous. No  doubt  the  interruption  of  our  communication,  is 
due  to  a  silly  practical  joke." 

"  Well,  in  the  face  of  no  further  communication,"  returned 
the  General,  "  we  will  accept  that  as  authentic.  And  now  let  us 
continue  the  discussion." 

"I  do  not  see  the  use.  With  all  due  submission  to  the  better 
opinion  of  my  superiors,  I  venture  to  declare,  that  as  the  Volun- 
teers were  established  by  Acts  of  Parliament  we  can  do  nothing 
to  alter  their  constitution  away  from  Westminster." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  right,"  acquiesced  the  Regular,  after  a 
few  minutes  of  the  deepest  cogitation.  "  The  military  power  is 
subservient  to  the  civil.  This  is  regrettable  at  all  times,  but  it  is 
especially  lamentable  just  now,  as  the  enemy  is,  so  to  speak,  at 
our  gates." 

"Beg  pardon,  Sir,"  interrupted  an  A.-D.-C.,  who  had  just, 
come  to  attention,  "  but  the  foe  is  a  bit  nearer  than  that.  They 
have  taken  the  town  and  we  are  surrounded,  and  practically 
prisoners." 

"And  they  select  this  moment,"  indignantly  exclaimed  the 
Volunteer,  when  we  are  considering  our  organisation,  to  take 
us  unawares  I  It  is  unsoldierly,  it  is  ungentlemanly,  it  is  bad 
form  1 " 

However,  there  was  no  more  time  for  denunciations,  as  an 
officer  of  tie  enemy  appeared  and  demanded  the  swords  of  all 
present. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  now  ex-Commander-in-Chief,  when  the 
ceremony  of  disarming  had  been  completed,  "  there  is  but  one 
other  thing  to  do,  and  we  will  do  it.  We  will  adjourn  the  con- 
sideration of  the  Volunteers  until  the  next  invasion." 

And  as  this  appeared  to  be  sensible,  the  proposal  was  .adopted 
unanimously,  but  without  enthusiasm. 


EXPERIENCES  OF    A  FBENCH  PHANTOM. 

(Extract  from  the  Diary  of  a  Ghost.) 

Now  I  am  really  very  comfortable.  Crossed  the  Channel  in  a 
gale  and  frightened  none  of  the  passengers.  Fact  was,  some  of 
them  were  so  feeble  that  they  appeared  quite  pleased  to  see 
me.  Now  I  am  here  in  a  very  well  appointed  chateau.  If  the 
press  will  only  leave  me  alone  I  shall  get  on  nicely.  I  am  jotting 
down  my  notes  in  the  library.  .  .  A. newspaper!  Had  a  presenti- 
ment I  should  find  one.  And  of  course,  strange  noises,  knock- 
ings — bell-ringing!"  Yes,  all  that's  meant  for  me!  Thought 
they  wouldn't  leave  me  alone  for  long !  I  suppose  they  consider 
me  "good  copy"  when  the  war  news  is  scarce,  and  the  last 
murder  is  a  fortnight  old.  Now  a  lot  of  idiots  will  follow  me  up 
to  discover  what  I  am.  Doctors,  lawyers,  and  the  rest  of  them. 
Well,  I  had  better  make  the  most  of  my  time.  .  .  Got  a  lot  of 
raps  out  of  that  panelling,  and  set  the  bells  all  over  the  house 
"  a-ringing  for  SARAH  !  "  Great  fun !  .  .  .  Thought  it  would  be 
so !  There  's  one  of  the  lunatics  taking  a  pot-shot  at  me  with  a 
Kodak,  and  another  attempting  to  riddle  me  with  the  contents 
of  a  revolver!  No  peace  nor  quiet!  Well,  I  suppose  there's 
nothing  to  be  done — I  must  be  off  to  England  again !  And  oh ! 
I  am  so  tired  of  ruined  castles  and  the  interiors  of  dried-up  wells ! 


NEW  FABRIC  DEDICATED  TO   THE   MEMBERS 
KENNEL  ASSOCIATION. — Dog-muslin. 


OF    THE    LADIES' 


MAY  1,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


205 


Lan,bertson  (who  is  nervous,  and  weight  about  a  cart-load  of  bricks,  to  Dapperton,  who  has  just  n 
nothing).     "On,  YES!    ALL  VERY  FINE  FOR  YOU  TO  SAY  'DON'T  DWELL  ON  IT,"  B— B — BUT- 


ipped  across,  and  weigh*  about  nine  stone 


A  CYCLE  OF  CATHAY. 

[According  to  the  Notoije  Vnmya,  1,1  HUNO  CHANO  hag  recently  stated 
that  the  bicycle  was  u  Chinese  invention,  known  as  the  "  happy  dragon  "  in 
the  year  2300  B.C.,  when  it  became  fo  populir  among  Chinese  ladies  that  their 
hnugt  hold  duties  wore  neglected ;  the  result  being  that  cycling  was  suppressed 
by  order  of  the  Emperor.] 

A  GOOD  old  Li !    Our  ancient  friend  CHXJNO  TONO 
Has  beat  the  record  with  his  "  happy  dragon  "  ; 

Four  thousand  years  ago  'twas  flying  strong, 
Or  All  Fools'  Day  has  set  some  Russian  wag  on 
To  draw  a  bow  that 's  long ! 

It  must  have  been  a  marvel  to  behold 

Celestial  ladies,  alias  "tottering  lilies," 
Endeavouring  to  bike  in  days  of  old 

With  feet  all  cramped — the  slit-eyed  little  sillies 
Soon  over  would  have  rolled ! 

A  phantom  "  prehistoric  peep  "  we  take, 
And  feel  ourselves  belated  "  foreign  devils," 

To  see  each  yellow  dame  her  home  forsake, 

And  hold  with  pig-tail  squire  her  flow'ry  revels 

On  wheels  of  wondrous  make. 

O  worthy  Lr,  the  shade  of  KONG-FU-TSB 

Warns  you,  I  'm  sure,  in  language  most  emphatic, 

That  China's  wares  were  chop-sticks,  opium,  tea, 
Joss-houses,  junks,  and  not  the  fleet  pneumatic 
Those  centuries  B.C. 

Your  "  happy  dragon  "  doubtless  was  a  "  pram  " 

Or  early  rickshaw,  miserably  laden 
With  Mrs.  Mandarin,  meek  as  a  lamb 

Inside,  with  babies  and  Manchu  hand-maiden 
Packed  in  a  solid  jam. 

Perhaps  a  reason  for  this  fable  gay 
May  be  its  author  has  been  dimly  musing 

O'er  "  Locksley  Hall,"  and  let  his  fancy  play 
On  damsels  of  the  Middle  Kingdom  using 

A  "  Cycle  of  Cathay !  " 


NOW  AND  TIIKN. 

(According  to  the  lalett  University  Authorities.) 

TIIK  PRESENT.— Representatives  of  the  Stronger  and  Weaker  Sexes 
considering  the  Situation. 

She.  I  can  assure  you  that  all  we  desire  is  suitable  recognition. 

He.  But.  really,  a  degree  is  useless.  Nearly  all  the  p~ofessions 
are  closed  (and  I  think  properly)  to  the  weaker  sex. 

She.  You  forget  we  are  permitted  to  dabble  a  little  in  medicine. 

He.  But  really  under  protest. 

She.  Still, -a  degree  would  give  a  woman  a  certificate  of  having 
attained  a  certain  educational  standard. 

He.  But,  my  dear  madam,  you  would  never  be  satisfied  with 
that.  You  would  require  a  voice  in  the  government  of  our 
ancient  institutions. 

She.  Pardon  me,  but  you  suggest  an  impossibility.  It  has 
always  been  admitted  that  woman  has  been  the  weaker  sex. 

He  (smiling).  In  theory!  [The  concession  it  granlnl. 

THE  FUTCTRE. — The  Position  as  before. 

He.  Pray  take  my  word  for  it,  that  all  we  ask  is  to  be  granted 
suitable  recognition. 

She.  You  must  admit  that  s  degree  for  men  in  these  days  is 
absolutely  valueless.  All  the  professions  (with  scarcely  an  ex- 
ception) axe  filled  (and  rightly  filled)  by  the  stronger  sex. 

He.  You  forget  that  the  clergy  are  still  of  the  masculine 
gender. 

She.  But  our  foremost  feminine  thinkers  regard  the  reservation 
with  distaste. 

He.  Then  think  of  the  social  value  of  a  degree  to  a  man.  It 
would  be  a  proof  that  he  had  a  mind  above  rounders,  and  lawn- 
tenni-i. 

She.  But,  my  dear  Sir,  a  man  once  writing  B.A.  after  his  name 
would  never  be  satisfied  with  that.  It  would  be  the  thin  end  of 
the  wedge.  He  would  next  be  asking  to  have  a  voice  in  the 
government  of  our  ancient  institutions. 

He.  Pray  let  me  correct  you.  I  can  assure  you  that  you  speak 
of  a  ridiculous  impossibility.  It  has  ever  been  found  that  man 
has  been  the  weaker  sex. 

She  (smiling).  In  fact!  [The  concession  is  refused. 


VOL.  oxii. 


206 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAT  1,  1897 


MAY  1,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


207 


A  MANIFESTO  OF  TI1E  FUTURE. 

(To  be  issuai  when  there  is  a  deficiency  of 
t'bud  in  £nyland  in  lime  uf  War.) 

SOI.DIKH.S!  You  bavo  again  proved  vic- 
torious I  The  French  have  been  beaten  at 
Homo  Bay,  and  have  bad  to  take  retuge 
in  and  put  to  sea  in  the  local  bathing  ma- 
chines. The  Russians,  compelled  by  your 
bayonets,  have  evacuated  My  the!  The 
Swiss  have  disappeared  from  Itamsgate, 
and  the  foot  of  the  invading  Swede  u  no 
longer  set  on  the  sacred  sands  of  Pegwell  I 

Soldiers,  this  is  glorious  I  For  these  tri- 
umphs follow  a  series  of  still  well-remem- 
bered successes.  Were  not  the  Germans 
driven  from  Scarborough,  the  Austrians 
from  Folkestone,  and  the  Italians  from 
Southend?  And  above  all,  did  not  your 
colleagues  in  the  sister  service  send  to  the 
bottom  of  the  ocean  the  combined  fleets 
of  the  five  Great  Powers,  Turkey,  Spain 
and  Portugal,  Greece,  and  the  Principality 
of  Monaco  ? 

Yes,  soldiers,  Britannia  has  conquered 
Europe  in  arms  I  And  the  result?  Why, 
I  have  the  satisfaction  of  announcing  to 
you  in  displayed  type  that 

BKKAD  is  DOWN  AGAIN  AT  '23.  '.'/>.  THE 

LiOAT  I 


(Signed)        BUNKUM, 
General  Commanding-in-Chief. 


THE  CRY  OF  THE  INCOME-TAX  PAYER. 

IT  is  "Tax!  Taxi  Taxi" 

Whether  Tory 's  in  or  Rad ; 
And  it's  "Taxi  Taxi  Taxi" 

Whether  times  be  good  or  bad. 
The  Surplus  swells  and  swells, 

And  the  doles  are  fast  and  free  ; 
But  whosoe'er  may  have  less  to  bear 

The  burden  'a  the  same  for  Me  I 
For  the  rate  is  eightpence  still, 

Though  they  lessen  the  load  on  the  land, 
And  though  they  willingly  fill 

The  parson's  outstretched  hand. 
Of  the  squire  they  acknowledge  the  claim, 

And  they  don't  forget  the  Church ; 
But  the  Income  Tax  payer,  O,  thundering 
shame  I 

Is  eternally  left  in  the  lurch. 
Taxi  Taxi  Taxi 

In  the  time  of  war  or  peace ; 
Till,  tired  of  the  pain  in  our  aching  backs, 
We  call  all  the  Chancellors  greedy  quacks, 
Who  let  the  parsons  and  squires  go  snacks, 
And  make  us  furnish  whatever  lacks  ; 
Whatever  wanes,  OUT  load  will  wax. 

The  patience  it  passes 

Of  camels  or  asses  ; 
'Tis  worse  than  treacle  upon  molasses. 
And,   though   we  are  patriots,   loads  like 

these. 
Which  are  always  swelling,  and  never  cease, 

Make  us  call  the  land  of  the  Income  Tax 
The  Land  of  the  Golden  Fleece ! 


ONE-DAY  WONDERS. 

(Page  from  the  Diary  of  a  Constant  Reader.) 

Monday. — Terrible!  What  eni  awful 
state  of  things!  And  to  fancy  that  we 
should  huve  submitted  to  such  a  matter 
for  so  long  a  time !  Well,  now  that  public 
attention  is  at  last  aroused,  we  are  sure 
to  see  the  end  of  it.  The  Press  is  full 
of  it! 

Tuesday. — At  last  it  has  begun.  Ex- 
pected for  months,  but  now  at  hand.  We 
shall  learn  the  truth.  Leaders  every- 


ART    IN    WHITECHAPEL. 

"WEIL,  THAT'S  WHAT  I  CALLS  A  HIMPOSSIBLE  PEMITION  TO  orr  YERSELF  INTO!' 


where,  and  any  number  of  opinions. 
Weather  quite  forgotten  in  the  present 
excitement.  The  Press  is  full  of  it  I 

Wednesday.— What  a  scandal  I  Well,  it 
might  have  been  expected.  .Still,  the  de- 
tails are  startling.  The  public  conscience 
seems  this  time  to  be  absolutely  shocked ! 
Go  where  one  will,  nothing  else  is  dis- 
cussed. The  Press  is  full  of  it  I 

Thursday.  —  Something  like  a  crisis! 
Troops  hurrying  hither  and  thither.  The 
fleets  all  in  motion.  The  money-market 
rising  and  falling  like  a  tennis-ball  I  What 
will  be  the  end  of  it  ?  Was  ever  the  like 
seen  before  ?  The  Press  is  full  of  it  I 

Friday. — Of  course  the  fund  should  be 
supported.  England  is  a  wealthy  nation 
and  should  be  equal  to  the  occasion.  It 
is  strange  that  no  one  should  have  sug- 


gested it  before.  Well,  now  that  it  has 
been  proposed  the  cash  will  flow  in  abun- 
dance. The  Press  is  full  of  it  I 

Saturday. — Something  else  I     Dear  me, 

we  can't  get  one  sensation  on  the  tatrii 

without  it  being  elbowed  out  by  a  fresher 

]  excitement.    Just  been  looking  at  my  first 

entry  this  week,  and  can't  remember  in  the 

I  least  to  what  it  referred.    Well,  whatever  it 

;  might  have  been,  the  Press  was  full  of  it  1 

Possibly  a  Misapprehension  of  Title. 

Employer  (ioWorking  Man).  You  haven't 
been  near  the  factory  for  a  week,  SMITH. 
How's  that? 

Working  Man.  Well,  Sir,  I  belongs  to 
the  Independent  Labour  Partv.    We  works 
;  when  we  chooses,  and  does  what  we  likes. 


208 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  1,  1897. 


Professor  Scoop,  F.N.S,  (the  great  Anatomist,  wlw  rather  fancies  him- 
self something  of  a  lady-killer).  "An,  MY  DEAR  MRS.  PUMPPIM,  THIS 
is  A  MOMENT  I  HAVE  LONG  WISHED  FOR  ! " 

Mrs.  Felicia  Pumppim  (who  believes  herself  so  keen  on  all  scientific 
matters).  "AND  so  HAVE  I,  PROFESSOR!  Now  WE  HAVE  A  MINUTE 

TO  OURSELVES,    DO  TELL   ME  ALL    ABOUT    THOSE    DEAR    OLD   BOXES  OF 
YOURS ! " 


SAMPLING  THE  SALON. 

(By  Our  Impressionist  in  Paris.) 

FIND  myself  on  the  Boulevards  for  the  Easter  Holidays  and 
not  visit  the  "  Ouvrages  de  Peinture,  Sculpture,  Architecture, 
j  ^L6  et  Ijltno^raphie  des  Artistes  vivants  exposes  au  Palais 
des  Champs-EIysees  " — impossible!  So  direct  my  steps  to  the 
principal  entrance  of  the  first  of  the  Paris  International  Exhibi- 
tions. Building,  by  the  way,  doomed.  New  one  ordered,  and 
soon  to  take  its  place.  Great  crowd  entering,  great  crowd 
watching  the  enterers.  Reminds  me  of  a  first  night  at  the 
Lyceum,  when  lion-hunters  in  humble  life  watch  the  celebrities 
flocking  to  the  theatre  leased  by  HENRY  IRVING.  It  is  the 

Vernissage  "—French  equivalent  to  our  Private  View  at  the 
R.A.  At  Burlington  House  only  the  cream  of  the  cream  of  all 
that  is  most  artistic,  most  intellectual,  most  respectable.  "  In- 
stead of  which,"  at  the  Palais  de  PIndustrie,  officials,  painters, 
and  (as  a  vast  majority)  payers  of  ten  francs. 

Passed  the  turn-style  and  bought  a  catalogue.  And  this  is 
UAH  -A8"8'"  .  "A11  Paris"  is  disinclined  to  look  at  pictures. 

AH  Pans"  is  in  the  garden  in  which  appears  the  sculpture. 
Statues  are  neglected.  Everyone  talks,  and  (when  of  the  femi- 
nine gender)  wears  a  blazing  red  hat.  Or  rather  bonnet. 
Matinee  hats  no  longer  the  thing — quite  old-fashioned.  Bonnets 
arrangements  of  straw  worn  four  inches  in  rear  of  the  forehead 
On  straw  foundation  a  low  brushwood  of  flowers.  Except  on  the 
left — there  a  May-pole  of  the  prevailing  bloom.  Simple  and 
effective.  Men's  hats  much  the  same  as  in  England.  Except 
now  and  again  a  perfectly  level  brim  to  the  regulation  stove- 
pipe. Seen  something  like  it  before  on  the  heads  of  an  eminent 
artist-writer  recently  in  the  witness-box,  and  a  very  accomplished 
actor-manager  now  in  retreat.  But  why  this  talk  about  the 
mode?  Because  it  is  the  chief  topic  of  conversation  at  the 

Vernissage  " — or  nearly  so. 

But  are  there  no  pictures  ?  Certainly.  Well-known  Parisian 
journalist  (born  an  aristocrat,  developed  into  a  democrat)  has 


indicated  one  or  two  in  the  pages  of  a  French  paper  printed  in 
English.  Search  the  catalogue  for  it.  No  good.  "Explica- 
tion" alphabetically  arranged  as  to  artists,  but  nothing  said 
about  position  of  pictures.  Still,  this  may  be  it.  A  pose  of  the 
nude.  Four  or  five  bouncing  hoydens  on  a  river  bank  chatting 
with  a  man.  From  their  costume-^-or  rather  want  of  it — hoydens 
have  evidently  been  bathing.  River  in  the  background.  One 
hoyden  has  her  arm  round  the  man's  neck.  Ah.  to  be  sure!  the 
neck  belongs  to  a  donkey's  head.  Quite  so.  The  picture  repre- 
sents "  The  Madness  of  Titania."  French  version  of  a  scene 
from  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream.  Wouldn't  do  for  England. 
Examiner  of  Plays  would  object.  Might  do  for  "  the  halls." 
Wrinkle  for  Mr.  MORTON.  In' their  present  peaceable  condition 
of  mind  L.C.C.'s  would  be  rather  pleased  than  otherwise.  Almost 
opposite  Titania  admired  the  wreck  of  a  fishing  smack  in  the 
open  sea.  By  the  painter  of  "  the  useless  mouths  starving  in  the 
snow  "  in  last  year's  Salon.  Quite  a  different  treatment.  Not 
nearly  so  sensational.  Eminent  French  critic  calls  attention  to 
the  pathos  of  an  outstretched  hand  emerging  from  a  "  great  big 
wave."  Nonsense  I  Hand  too  small  to  attract  attention — 
almost  requires  a  microscope.  Might  just  as  well  talk  of  the 
grandeur  of  the  gilt  frame.  Find  other  exhibits  noted  by  Par- 
isian journalist  in  the  first  two  or  three  rooms.  The  scribe  seems 
to  have  tired  of  his  subject.  Hunt  up  a  reception  of  the  CZAR 
by  French  soldiers.  The  Parisian  journalist  calls  attention  to 
the  excellent  lustre  of  his  black  silk  hat  I  Ah,  to  be  sure,  French 
sarcasm  1 

Take  my  own  impressions.  Several  crayon-coloured  creations. 
Paintings  look  as  if  they  had  been  produced  under  the  direction 
of  Master  JACKY,  Member  of  the  Nursery  School  of  Art.  Sea 
made  of  small  circular  discs  of  yellow  and  pink  cheese.  So  it 
appears  to  an  outsider.  Fields  of  the  same  tone,  but  greater 
finish.  Then  one  wonderful  picture — the  admiration  of  all  lovers 
of  pots  and  pans.  Girl  pouring  vinegar  into  a  bottle  of  gherkins. 
Glass  marvellous.  Ditto  brass.  See  reflections  of  the  rest  of 
the  room  in  both.  Two  ladies  with  the  head  of  St.  John  the 
Baptist.  One  is  spoiling  her  "  Sunday  best "  with  it.  The  other 
carries  it  on  a  platter,  although  she  has  nothing  on  to  spoil. 
Or  next  to  nothing.  Less  blood  than  usual.  Most  notable 
shows  a  German  soldier  with  his  two  boon  companions  silenced 
by  a  shell.  Teutonic  warrior  singing  a  song.  Music  stopped 

by  the  explosion.     Some  portraits.     "  Le  Comte  de "  in  one 

room,  looking  slightly  feeble.  "La  Comtesse  de  —  -"  in  the  next 
— masterful.  Betting  five  to  one  on  the  lady.  Some  landscapes. 
Many  functions  connected  with  the  Russian  visit.  An  eagle 
seizing  a  hare.  A  husband  about  to  shoot  "  a  cousin  "  (with  ac- 
cessories) in  a  hotel.  Several  "first  communions."  A  child  kneel- 
ing by  a  grave  (murmurs  of  "  sweetly  pretty "  from  female 
sympathisers  with  tender  hearts),  and  numerous  nymphs  turning 
their  backs  upon  the  public. 

Ah,  what  is  this  I  Art  is  entirely  forgotten  I  Everyone  is 
owuing  round  a  central  figure  in  the  gardens  I  There  is  much 
enthusiasm.  The  private  viewers  are  applauding  a  lady  of  strik- 
ing appearance.  The  cheers  are  received  with  appreciation. 
And  who  is  the  lady  ?  The  papers  of  the  next  day  give  the  in- 
formation. The  lady  is  one  who  has  recently  been  divorced  from 
her  coroneted  husband,  and  who  is  anxious  to  secure  a  "  turn  " 
at  a  music-hall !  The  scene  contrasts  with  the  dignified  calm  in- 
cidental to  the  holding  of  the  Private  View  at  our  own  Royal 
Academy.  You  shrug  your  shoulders,  and  come  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  after  all  tnere  are  some  things  managed  better  in 
England  than  in  France. 

HAY,   HAY,   SIR! 

(Punch  to  the  new  American  Ambassador,  greeting.) 

WHEN  the  Mayflower  sailed,  nigh  three  centuries  since, 

She  began  a  new  "Log."    It  is  now  packed  with  wonders. 
Here  goes  a  new  entry !     Our  love  to  evince, 

Forgiving  old  wrongs,  and  forgetting  old  blunders, 
We  log,  "Hailed  the  good  Yankee  bark,  Colonel  Hay." 

The  world  is  not  ruled  by  post-prandial  speeches. 
Alas]     If  it  were  Peace  would  come — and  to  stay. 

But,  Sir,  we  know  you,  and  we  love  "Little  Breeches." 
A  pleasant  beginning  fast  friendship  for  winning. 

Shake,  Sir!     May  that  friendship  last  firm  and  unshaken. 
Since  strife  between  your  folk  and  ours  were  sheer  sinning 

'Gainst  nature  and  reason,  each  step  that  is  taken 
To  knit  friendly  bonds,  without  bunkum  or  blether, 

Is  one  to  the  good.     PHELPS  and  LOWELL  and  BAYARD 
Have  done  their  joint  best  to  bring  brethren  together. 

You  're  on  the  same  track,  and  may  nought  make  your  way 

hard, 
Our  May  will  soon  flower.     Be  sure,  Colonel  HAY, 

Like  the  Mayflower,  you  're  '  welcome  as  flowers  in  May  I ' " 


MAY  1,  1897.] 


rrxcii,  OR  THE  LONDON  ci[\i:i\  AIM. 


209 


TO  AMARYLLIS  (OF  AUBURN). 

(To  explain  n-/,:i  Jinji/utii  M 

["  The  »iiiu<  knock  a  seen  sometimes,  though  not  on  Sundays,  and  here  and 
then-  I  he  plough  ia  even  now  dniwu  by  Virginal!  oxen.  But  the  wont  of  the 
deprcMion  Deems  to  be  over  ;  Auburn  ii  looking  up,  anil  lluphnin  may  a»  well 

r. .111.    hniiie  fnilil  the  eity.      His  pbre  i.-  li'it  in   l/'IlJiiM.  hut  hele,  ill  UM  lielil-, 

where  Ani!ir)lli>  Ktill  wears  a  lilac  Bun-bonnet."— Artirli  in  the  "  Timet"  on 

"  Auburn   tt  TMffr'/.''  ] 

MKAH  Amaryllis,  banking  in  the  shade — 

If  not  on  that  account  the  least  bit   sliady — 

Led  to  the  country  though  1  "d  be.  afraid 
I  am  you  cannot  be  my  leading  lady. 

You  may  be  all  that  fancy  pictures  you, 

A  ml  varied  charms,  may  be,  you  do  not  lack. 

In  any  case,  of  course,  it's  always  true 
Your  Auburn  hail  is  streaming  down  your  back. 

With  you  one  sees  anon  the  homely  smock, 
"  Yir^ilian  oxen,"  also,  plough  the  tillage, 

Yet  these,  alas !  are  joys  that  do  but  mock 

Since  I  'in  resolved  to  choose  some  other  village. 

Try  as  I  will  I  cannot  quite  forget — 

I  hope  it  will  not  cause  you  needless  pain — 

Though  Auburn  is  "  the  loveliest  village,"  yet 
It  is  "  the  loveliest  village  of  the  plain. 

AUGUSTE  EN  ANGLETERRE. 
LONDON. 

DEAH  MISTKK,  —Having  encountered  there  is  some  time  one  oi 
the  deputies,  I  have  seized  the  occasion  of  to  visit  the  Palace 
of  the  Parliament.  One  afternoon  1  go  there,  and  following  t  he 
instructions  of  the  brave  policemans  1  arrive  to  a  great  octagon 
hall,  where  1  give  my  card  of  visit  to  another  policeman — 
JMI  1 1  nut  des  pohcemaus ! — who  indicates  to  me  that  I  must  rest 
at  the  end  of  a  range  of  persons  at  side  of  the  entry.  I  attend 
there  patiently  while  that  a  fat  policeman  inarches  of  long  in 
large,  de  long  en  large,  almost  on  our  foots.  C'est  ennuyant.  I 
attend  as  that  during  one  half  hour.  Of  time  in  time  a  huissier 
comes  to  the  entry  and  cries  a  name,  but  never  the  name  of  the 
deputy  whom  1  desire  to  visit,  ni  le  mien  non  plus,  nor  the  mine 
not  more.  C'est  tres,  tres-fatigant. 

At  the  moment  where  1  go  to  ask  if  I  may  to  seat  myself  on 
the  pavement  of  the  hall,  I  near  a  hurling,  un  hurlement.  at  the 
entry.  It  are  the  policemans  and  the  hvissier  who  call.  The 
hall  resounds  of  the  cry  "Bessmpiah."  In  fine  I  comprehend 
that  it  is  my  name,  BASSOMFIERRE,  pronounced  at  the  English 
mode.  En/in  !  I  disengage  myself  from  the  other  persons,  and 
I  go  at  rapid  step  to  the  entry  where  I  find  the  deputy.  I  shall 
call  him  Mr.  X. 

He  receives  me  very  politely  and  conducts  me  around  of  the 
rooms  of  the  fashion  the  most  amiable.  At  first  we  enter 
in  the  "  Lobby,"  and  from  there  we  pass  in  a  couloir,  as  sombre 
as  the  corridors  of  the  Palace  of  Justice.  Toujours  the  gothic 
style,  but  of  another  epoch.  If  they  love  the  gothic  style,  the 
English,  and  that  in  a  climate  so  sad,  so  black  I  We  arrest  our- 
selves at  the  glassed  door  of  a  quite  little  room,  where  I  per- 
ceive some  men  reading  some  journals.  Evidemment  vne  petite 
salle  d'ntt?nte  des  huissiers,  ou,  des  agents  de  la  police  de  surete, 
that  which  you  call  "detectors."  But  no!  Mister  X.  says  to 
me  that  this  little  room,  enough  sad  and  enough  sombre,  is  the 
cabinet  de  lecture  of  the  deputies  themselves,  the  "Newspaper 
Room  "  of  the  most  great,  or  at  the  least  of  the  most  ancient, 
of  the  parliaments  of  the  world.  What  droll  of  ideal 

And  of  morel  There  is  not  there  one  sole  stranger  journal, 
un  seul  journal  itranger.  In  vain  the  brave  journalists  of  Paris 
discuss  the  question  of  Egypt,  in  vain  the  most  violent  of  the 
german  writers  say  thousand  injuries,  mille  injures,  to  youi 
country,  your  deputies  can  only  read  all  that  translated  nnc 
compressed  in  the  english  journals.  And  of  more  I  There  is 
there  but  one  sole  illustrated  journal.  It  is  true  that,  among 
all,  the  deputies  have  chosen  the  most  respectable,  the  most 
illustrious,  that  magnificent  journal,  of  which  I  am,  dear  Mi.-./'  i 
P-uiic.li,  the  eiillaliorati'iti'  the  most  humble  and  the  most  indig- 
nant, indigne.  But  the  others  in  your  country — the  Illustrate^ 
Graphic,  the  Black  and  Blue,  the  Policemans  News — they  ap- 
pear never  in  this  little  room. 

Then  we  arrive  to  some  other  little  rooms,  encore  plus  mes- 
quines  et  plus  mornes,  where  the  deputies  can  to  invite  theii 
friends  to  dine.  Mister  X.  celibataire,  who  has  perhaps  forty 
years,  or  less,  complains  himself  much  of  these  rooms  so 
'•  shabby."  He  desires  to  invite  some  ladies  and  some  misters 
of  his  friends,  and  he  must  to  receive  them  in  a  salle-a-manger 


FLOWERS    OF    SPRING. 

A  SKETCH   AT  A   DRAUGHTY  MATINEI' 


which  resembles  to  a  little  salle  d'attente  of  an  english  railway. 
Ce  n'est  pas  grand'chose,  that  is  not  great  thing. 

And  the  charming  english  misses  of  his  acquaintance,  whom  he 
invites  to  the  fivoclock  I  It  is  terrible.  The  other  deputies  are 
perhaps  more  aged,  and  the  beautiful  misses  come  not  to  render 
visit  to  them.  But  Mister  X.,  truly  I  pity  him!  However,  in 
summer,  if  he  makes  fine — that  which,  arrives  sometimes  in  your 
country — Mister  X.  can  to  receive  these  ladies  on  the  terrace 
which  gives  on  the  Thames.  That  must  to  be  very  agreeable, 
figure  to  myself  a  beautiful  afternoon  of  June,  the  air  soft  and 
perfumed  of  roses,  and,  on  the  terrace,  reposing  himself  at  the 
shade,  the  illustrious  legislator  surrounded  of  adorable  misses. 
What  charming  fashion  of  to  serve  his  country  I  if  in  je  voudrais 
travailler  comme  fa !  Agree,  <to.,  AUGUST*. 

OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

Le  Morte  Darthur,  by  Sir  THOMAS  MALOBY,  Part  Third.  A 
new  volume.  The  series  to  which  this  belongs,  published  by 
J.  M.  DENT  &  Co.,  Aldine  House,  is  the  daintiest,  handsomest, 
an  1  handiest,  ever  as  yet  issued  by  any  publishing  Louse.  Port- 
able gems  every  one  of  them. 

I  do  not  remember  ever  having  read  any  work  by  EDEN  PHIL- 
POTTS  previous  to  his  Lying  Prophets,  published  by  INNBS  <fe  Co., 
but  if  nis  others  are  equal  to  this  his  latest,  then  is  there  in  store 
for  me.  quoth  the  Baron,  a  great  treat,  for  a  more  masterlj 
novel,  both  for  analysis  of  character,  exact  reproduction  of  loca 
dialect,  poetic  appreciation  of  scenery,  and  sustained  interest 
in  the  events  of  a  very  simple  and  probable  story,  it  woulc 
be  difficult  to  find.  "Where  THACKERAY,  supposing  be  hac 
chosen  such  a  theme,  would  have  assumed  the  showman  am 
would  have  stopped  to  moralise  on  the  action  of  his  puppets 
Mr.  EDEN  PHILPOTTS,  on  almost  all  occasions  save  two  or  three 
continues  his  story  as  a  narrator,  and  does  not  distract  the 
attention  of  the  reader  at  the  risk  of  wearying  him  by  becoming 
an  apologist  for  each  action  of  the  beings  of  his  own  creation 
Nor  does  he  fill  pages  with  sordid  unnecessary  details,  as  does 
ZOLA,  though  he  fearlessly  calls  a  spade  a  spade,  when  thereto 
compelled  by  the  necessity  of  the  case.  It  is  a  pathetic  tragedy 
of  homely  and  very  real  life,  and  if  we  would  nave  had  it  enc 
otherwise  than  it  has  seemed  good  to  the  author  to  end  it,  it  is 
because,  while  reading,  we  have  come  to  love,  pity,  or  sym 
pathise  with,  the  principal  characters  in  the  story. 

TM  BAKON  DE  B.-W. 


210 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAT  1,  1897. 


A    REMOTE    CONTINGENCY. 

"Fern  GOODNESS'  SAKE,  DON'T  FIDGET  so,  'ENERY  !     YOU'LL  HAYS  MS  IK  TBS  WATER!' 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  young  Britisher,  having  taken  a  fair  Ameri- 
can "round  the  Town,"  resents  the  intrusion 
and  anger  of  her  Father. 

OUR  escapade  was  very  sweet 

The  while  it  lasted,  darling ; 
Some  day  the  joke  we  may  repeat 

Without  your  father  snarling. 
You  see  that  he  was  born  discreet, 

Bred  up  with  views  severest, 
'Mid  bell-topped  hats  and  chokers  neat — 

Not  what  I  wear,  my  dearest  I 
I  know  'twas  wrong  when  you  and  J 

Devised  that  morning  ramble, 
When  I  cried,  "  We  must  do  or  die  I  "— 

You  bravely  answered  "  Gamble  !  " 
And  so  you  joined  me  in  the  Square, 

Where  with  the  cab  I  waited  ; 
I  made  the  crossing-sweeper  stare, 

With  proof  of  being  elated ! 
Then  merrily,  I  think  you  'II  say, 

We  did  a  round  of  shopping, 


It  seemed  a  kind  of  business  day, 
When  I  did  all  the  stopping. 

And  thus  at  length  with  such  a  bunch 
Of  springtide  buds  and  blossoms, 

We  went  to  Regent  Street  to  lunch 
On  "  fricasseed  opossums." 

That  was  your  simile,  not  mine, 

You  're  Yankier  than  a  Yankee — 
And  when  I  touch  your  lips  with  mine 

I've  hardly  time  to  thank  ye. 
The  "  fricasseed  opossum  "  jokes 

Would  make  a  Scotchman  shiver, 
They  're  all  about  the  "  Haggis-Hoax  " 

That  haunts  the  Hudson  River  I 

'Twas  when  I  'd  lighted  my  cigar, 

And  your  sweet  eyes  were  merry, 
I  felt  a  touch  of  strong  catarrh, 

And  tried  my  nose  to  bury, 
For  there  before  us  both  revealed 

Your  gallant  sire  was  scowling  I 
His  language  was  most  unconcealed, 

'Twos  pure  primeval  howling  I 


Wipe  out  your  tears  with  Belfast  lawn  I 

Destroy  your  pain  with  powder ! 
Meet  me  at  eve,  at  midday,  dawn, 

And  let  your  laugh  be  louder  1 
For  with  these  versicules  I  send 

The  proof  of  Daddy's  hard  case ; 
He  quite  forgot  his  lady  friend 

Had  dropped  her  pretty  card  case  I 


ATTENTION  AT  THE  PLAY. 

(As  performed  at  many  London  Theatres.) 

SCENE — Interior  of  a  Private  Box. 
TIME — Towards  the  end  of  the  First  Act  of  an 

established  success. 
PRESENT — A  Party  of  Four. 

No.  1  (gazing  through  opera  glasses).  A 
good  house.  Do  you  know  anyone  ? 

No.  2.  Not  a  soul.  Stay,  aren't  those 
the  FITZSNOOKS? 

No.  3  (also  using  a  magnifier).  You 
mean  the  woman  in  the  red  feather  at  the 
end  of  the  third  row  of  the  stalls  ? 

No.  4.  You  have  spotted  them.  They 
have  got  BOBBY  TENTEHFORE  with  them. 
You  know,  the  Johnnie  in  the  F.  O. 

No.  1.  I  thought  Mr.  TENTERFORE  was 
at  Vienna. 

No.  4.  No ;  he  was  going,  but  they  sent 
another  chap.  Brought  him  back  from 
somewhere  in  the  tropics. 

No.  3.  Then  what  is  Mr.  TENTERFOHE 
doing  in  town? 

No.  4.  Oh  I  come  home  on  leave.  Lots 
of  that  sort  of  thing  at  the  F.  O. 

No.  1  (having  grown  weary  of  looking  at 
the  audience).  By  the  way,  a  propos  de 
bottes,  I  have  some  money  to  invest.  Can 
you  suggest  anything  ? 

No.  3.  They  say  that  Diddlers  Deferred 
will  turn  up  trumps. 

No.  1.  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  I 
only  want  to  pop  in  and  out  between  the 
accounts. 

No.  3.  Then  the  Diddlers  ought  to  suit 
you.  They  rose  six  last  week,  and  ought  to 
touch  ten  before  settling  day. 

No.  1.  Then  I  am  on.  Thanks  very 
much  for  the  information.  Ah  I  the  cur- 
tain has  fallen.  So  much  for  the  first  act  1 
(Enter  visitor.)  Ah  I  how  are  you  ?  Where 
are  you? 

Visitor.  Well,  I  have  got  a  stall,  but  I 
have  only  just  come  into  the  house.  What 
are  they  playing  ? 

No.  2.  I  am  sure  I  don't  know;  but  if 
you  are  curious  about  it,  here 's  the  pro- 
gramme. 

Visitor.  And  what 's  it  all  about  ? 

No.  1  (on  behalf  of  self  and  companions) . 
We  haven't  the  faintest  notion. 
Conversation  becomes  general,  and  remains  so 
until  the  end  of  the  evening,  regardless  of  the 
dialogue  on  the  stage  side  of  the  curtain. 


Lawn-Tennis  versus  Bicycling-. 
(After  Goldsmith.) 

WHEN  lovely  woman  strives  to  "  volley," 
But  finds  that  men  her  strokes  despise, 

What  art  can  soothe  her  melancholy, 
And  reinstate  her  in  their  eyes  ? 

The  only  art  her  loss  to  cover — 
To  charm  and  to  subdue  alike —   . 

To  bring  back  her  repentant  lover, 
And  fire  his  bosom — is  to  "  bike." 


I  M  i' K  ii  HIM  IN  IMPERIO. — The  KAISER  in 
Austria. 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— MAT  1,   1897. 


.. 


ENOUGH ! " 


MAY  1,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


213 


PROPOSED   ADOPTION    IN   THIS   COUNTRY   OF  THE   AUTOMATIC   STARTER. 

REMOTE  POSSIBILITIES  : — "SOMETHING  WRO.NO  WITH  THE  WORKS." 


THE  BEA.R'8  SHARE. 

(Dr.  Watts  Up-to-date.) 

LBT  Turks  delight  to  blast  and  blight, 

For  'tis  their  nature  to ; 
Let  angry  Paahaa  rage  and  fight, 

For  fate  has  planned  it  so. 

But,  Cretans,  you  should  never  let 

Your  angry  passions  rise. 
Your  patriot  bands  were  never  meant 

To  mould  your  destinies. 

The  egregious  Greek  in  vain  shall  seek 

To  raise  a  patriot  fuss ; 
The  Concert  checks  Hellenic  cheek — 

Obedient  to  the  Russ. 

The  Bear  and  Lion  growl  no  more, 
They  're  banded  friends  of  Peace. 

But — when  the  Turk's  estate  is  shared, 
Then  it  will  be  Bear's  Greece ! 


A   Question  of  Reciprocity. 

DEAR  MB.  PUNCH, — I  notice  that  one 
ETLOFF  has  been  placed  on  his  trial  for 
speaking  disrespectfully  of  Her  Most  Gra- 
cious Majesty  the  QUEEN,  he  being  an 
officer  of  the  Transvaal  Republic.  I  could 
not  help  wondering,  when  I  read  the  in- 
telligence, where  we  should  be  able  to  try 
all  the  British  officers,  who  have  spoken, 
and  speak,  disrespectfully  of  President 
KRCOKR.  I  fancy  that  they  could  not  be 
accommodated  with  any  comfort  either  at 
the  Crystal  Palace  or  the  Albert  Hall— at 
least,  such  is  my  calculation. 

Yours  in  doubt,      CORNELIUS  COCKER. 

Logathrim  Club,  W. 

CURIOUS  MILITARY  FACT. — The  seat  of 
war  is  always  the  spot  where  two  forces  are 
standing  up  to  one  another. 


"ELEGANCE  AND  EASE." 

JEAMBS  DE  LA  PLUCHB  stood  six  feet  two, 
His  calves  were  pink  and  his  livery  blue  ; 
His  head  was  powdered,  and  proud  his 

mien 

As  in  nobleman's  gentleman  e'er  was  aeen. 
But  JEAMBS  DE  LA  PLUCHE  had  a  social 

club, 
Where  he  took  what  he  called  his  "heztry 

grub," 

Where  he  smoked  his  pipe  with  a  jovial  air, 
And  forgot  the  deportment  of  Belgrave 

Square. 


ADVERTISEMENTS  FOR  THE  MILLION. 

CHARLES,  FOR  YOUR  OWN  SAKE, 
\J  give  up  your  present  life.  Discard 
whist-playing,  horse-racing,  and  roulette. 
They  will  be  your  ruin.  If  you  want  ra- 
tional recreation,  buy  the  new  patented 
game,  "It's  a  great  big  shame,"  price  one 
shilling.  My  best  love  to  you. — Your 
heart-broken  MOTH  Kit. 


apiece,  as  supplied  to  Royalties  throughout 
trie  world. 


I  \ARLINU  !  Don't  forget  to  supply 
I  /  your  sweet  self  with  Kouoa's  Lo- 
zenges (in  boxes  at  Is.  14</. ,  3>.  7W.,  and 
48«.)  until  my  return. — Your  guardian 
angel,  THE  DEVOUT  LOVBB. 

On:  IIAKUM;  PAPA,  do  use  the  last 
dividend  you  collected  for  me  in  buy- 
ing Pure  English  Cigarettes,  instead  of  nasty 
foreign  cigars.  If  you  do,  I  shall  "tank 
you  so  much,  booty  puppy." — Your  own 
daughter  (with  a  separate  estate),  LITTLE 

TODDLEKINS. 

A  DVERTISEMENTei  intended  for  this 
XX  page,  if  not  received  to-day,  will,  it 
they  arrive  in  time,  be  gladly  inserted  to- 
morrow. 


"  Oh,  there  's  going  to  be  a  grand  fuss  about  the 


In  East   Dorsetshire. 

Pedestrian  (to  Native,  pointing  to  in- 
viting-looking Park).  Is  there  any  right  of 
way  through  those  grounds  P 

Native.  I  doan't  Know  nothing  'bout  a 


"  un,  mere  s  going  lo  H  a  grana  luss  about  tne       .  * ,  "  "      , 

High  Hat  Centenary,  but  nobody's  taking  a  bit    "gnt  o'  way,  but  if  tiee  happens  to  meet 
of  notice  of  me!— and  what  would  a  High  Hat  be    Squire's  keeper  I  guess  thee1!!  find  thero  '» 

1  a  gra-at  wrong  o'  ro-ad. 


without  me  r  " 


214 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  1,  1897. 


BACK   TO    BUSINESS! 

AFTER  A  H.KLISF  IN  A  PARLIAMENTARY  RECESS 


passion 


GOING  FOE  GRACCHUS. 

["  GKACCHUS  "  has  suggested  signalising  the  Diamond  Jubilee  Year  by 
the  abolition  of  the  silk  hat.] 

G  HEAT  Scott  I     At  the  suggestion  wisdom  smiles ; 

Wild  spasms  of  sardonic  laughter  rack  us. 
Fancy  the  "  chimney-pots  "  from  'midst  the  "  tiles  " 
Banished  by  "  GRACCHUS  "  I 

Jubilee  japes  are  many,  but  this  jest 

Is  sure  "  no  joke  "  1     It  stirs  impetuous  Foooi 
In  plodding  Trade's  mild,  imperturbable  breast, 
And  "  riles  up  "  Fashion. 

Abolish  the  Pot-Hat?    ^Esthetic  craze! 

"  GRACCHUS  "  hath  heart  of  flint  and  brains  of  batter. 
Now,  now  we  know  the  meaning  of  the  phrase 
"  Mad  as  a  hatter? 

What  ?    Celebrate  the  Diamond  Jubilee 

By  leaving  hundreds  of  poor  hatters  "  clemming  "  ? 
Nay,  save  us  from  that  dismal  destiny, 
BENJAMIN  HEMMING  I 

That  noble  champion,  of  Nelson  Square, 

Is  square,  and  a  true  hero,  the  Trade's  NELSON  I 
He  wntes  a  right  smart  letter,  too,  to  air 
The  theme  he  dwells  on. 

"Go  it,  great  HEMMING,  Hero  of  the  Hat!" 

The  Trade  exclaims.     "Esthetic  prigs  attack  us, 
But  he,  our  BENJAMIN,  lays  GOWER  just  flat, 
And  knocks  out  '  GRACCHUS.' 

"  The  artists  of  this  era  are  a  pest, 

With  all  their  twaddle  of  technique. — sheer  fudgment  I 
And  as  to  when  a  gentleman 's  well  drest 
Who  '11  trust  their  judgment  ? 


"  Their  art 's  all  footle  and  their  hat  all  flop  ; 

Trimness  and  tightness,  symmetry  and  sleekness, 
They  cock  the  nose  at,  but  a  Hatter's  shop 
Might  teach  them  meekness. 

"Swashbucklers  and  art-students,  clowns  and  cads, 

Cowboys  and  organ-grinders;  prigs  and  costers 
Love  floppiness ;  so  do  the  finick  fads 
Who  paint  our  posters. 

"But  Gentlemen — and  some  still  serve  our  QUEEN, 

Thanks  most  to  H.R.H.  and  England's  Hatters ! — 
Know  stiffness,  silkiness,  and  spotless  sheen 
Are  mighty  matters. 

"  '  GRACCHUS  '  would  mark  the  Diamond  Jubilee 

By  levelling  England  down  to  Buffalo  Billiness. 
Oh,  hideous  mixture  of  disloyalty 
And  utter  silliness! 

"  There 's  safety  in.  Silk  Hats  I     Other  head-gear 

Brings  a  vile  blend  of  rascalry  and  dowdiness. 
Shall  we  perpetuate  in  this  Jubilee  Year 
The  rule  of  rowdiness  ? 

"  Forbid  it,  Heaven,  and  the  Hatting  Trade  1 1 ! 

Squash-hat  KEIB  HARDIE'S  levelling  tide  for  stemming, 
Cry  '  Down  with  "  GRACCHUS,"  of  the  Downward  Grade, 
And  up  with  HEMMING  I !  I '" 


Toby  on  the   True   "  Unspeakable." 

THE  cruel  Mussulman  men  flout, 

But  there 's  a  man  more  cruel  than 
The  Turk,  and  that 's  beyond  all  doubt, 

The  cruel  Muzzle-man. 
The  Turk  may  call  his  foeman  dog,  may  be, 
But  does  not  treat  him  as  my  "  friends  "  treat  me  I 


MAY  1,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


215 


AGRICULTURAL    DISTRESS. 

Landlord  (who  has  been  listening  to  his  Tenant's  grumbles).  "WELL,  SMITHERS,  you  MUST  APMIT  YOU'VE  HAD   GOOD  we*.  WITH 
THE  LAMBS." 

Tenant.  "UMPH!    THERE  ARK  Too  MANY  BY  HALT.     LOOK  WHAT  A  SIGHT  OF  MONEY  THEY  'LL  COST  TO  REAR!" 


THE  PHANTOM  VEHICLE. 

THK  youth  was  almost  crazy  with  excitement.  It  had  been  a 
sad  disappointment  to  have  been  absent  from  the  great  meet 
which  had  taken  place  while  he  was  abroad.  He  had  longed  to 
join  in  the  shout  of  enthusiastic  exultation  that  had  greeted  the 
commencement  of  the  movement  that  practically  was  to  revolu- 
tionise the  universe.  He  had  read  eagerly  the  newspapers  teem- 
ing with  descriptions  and  prospectuses,  and  then  had  travelled 
post-haste  from  the  Antipodes  to  his  native  land. 

"  It  is  a  great  thing  for  the  nineteenth  century ! "  he  exclaimed. 
"It  would  have  been  a  thousand  pities  had  the  honour  been 
delayed  until  the  twentieth  could  have  claimed  the  distinction. 
But  now  to  work !  I  must  see  them  with  my  own  eyes!  Oh,  the 
joy,  the  triumph  of  it!" 

He  hastily  left  his  house.  He  expected  to  meet  the  object  of 
his  search  outside  his  door.  But  it  was  not  there. 

"Ah!"  he  said  to  himself,  "I  shall  find  them  in  the  busy 
streets,  in  the  public  places,  where  the  men  of  commerce  most  do 
congregate." 

But  again  he  was  disappointed.  His  quest  was  fruitless  in  the 
Strand,  Fleet  Street,  Oxford  Circus,  the  Poultry,  and  Cornhill. 

"  How  absurd !  "  he  murmured.  "  Of  course,  they  are  in  the 
suburbs.  Greater  London  is  the  place  for  them.  It  will  be  time 
when  Brixton  and  Tooting  are  occupied  for  Lombard  Street  to 
be  invaded." 

But  a  visit  to  the  delightful  localities  to  which  he  had  referred 
yielded  no  results.  He  was  equally  unsuccessful  in  Kensington, 
Richmond,  Putney,  Chiswick,  and  Wimbledon. 

"  Ah,  the  parks  !     I  shall  find  them  in  the  parks !  " 

But  he  did  not.  Hampton  Court  was  free,  and  so  were  the 
graceful  grounds  adjacent  to  the  Albert  Memorial. 

"  The  provinces  are  always  in  advance  of  the  metropolis,"  he 
thought.  "I  will  go  farther  afield." 

Then  ha  remounted  his  bicycle.  He  journeyed  to  Westward 
Ho;  he  sped  to  Birmingham.  He  was  found  in  Chester,  Scar- 
borough, Cardiff,  Stoke,  Oxford,  Cambridge,  and  Crewe  Junction. 


And  the  result  was  ever  the  same.  Nothing  to  be  seen.  They 
were  nowhere. 

He  had  grown  prematurely  old.  He  was  dispirited.  But  still 
he  would  have  continued  his  examination  had  not  fatigue  bade 
him  halt.  At  last  he  fainted.  When  he  recovered  he  told  his 
story. 

"  But  what  have  you  been  looking  for  ?  "  asked  the  doctor. 

Then  came  the  reply  which  showed  how  hopeless  had  been  his 
perambulatory  investigation  from  the  first.  He  murmured,  with 
a  deep  sigh,  ".1  have  been  searching  for  a  motor-car!  " 

"  But  you  have  not  found  one  ?  "  queried  the  medical  man. 

"  I  have  not." 

"No  more  has  anyone  else."  returned  the  disciple  of  &acu- 
lapius.  And  the  statement  had  the  admirable  accuracy  of 
scientific  research.  

PROVERBS  FBOM  THE  PLAY. 

Yon  may  fill  a  comedy  with  tons  of  talk,  but  that  won't  give 
it  a  plot. 

A  line  after  a  time  freshens  up  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine. 

A  woman  may  be  called,  on  the  stage,  trtnte-six,  but  that 
won't  make  her  appear  older  than  twenty  in  her  dressing-room. 

Look  after  the  stalls  and  boxes  and  the  pit  and  gallery  will 
take  care  of  themselves. 

A  hiss  is  not  so  good  as  a  smile. 

A  notice  that  is  one  man's  bread  may  be  another  man's  poison. 

If  silence  before  the  curtain  is  silver,  signed  letters  in  the 
newspapers  are  golden. 

Scotland  for  Ever! 

"  WHY,"  asked  the  old  customer  of  the  MACTAVISH,  "  have  you 
changsd  the  name  of  this  apartment  from  the  Milton  to  the 
Burns  Room  ?  " 

"  Frae  puir  patriotism,"  replied  the  Laird.  "  'Deed,  mon. 
wherefore  shouldna  one  blind  poet  take  the  place  o'  anither? 
Ye'd  no  be  wanting  me  to  name  the  chamber  the  Uilfrid 
Lawson  ?  " 


216 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAT  1,  1897. 


VIVE    LA    POLITESSE!      LADIES    FIRST! 


DARBY  JONES  ON  THE  CITY  AND 
SUBURBAN. 

HONOURED  SIR,  —  I  feel  assured  that, 
during  the  visit  of  the  eminent  Dr.  NANSEN 
to  this  country,  he  must  have  left  a  speci- 
men of  the  North  Pole  in  the  keeping  of 
the  Royal  Geographical  Society,  or  some 
other  influential  body,  for  never  do  I  re- 
member the  Newmarket  Craven  Meeting 
to  have  been  so  afflicted  with  that  chilli- 
ness, which  is  more  suited  to  Mr.  HARRY 
DB  WINDT  on  the  bleak  shores  of  Behring's 
Straits,  or  Mr.  JACKSON  amid  the  none  too 
congenial  surroundings  of  Franz  Josef 
Land,  than  to  yours  truly  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  famous  Ditch,  to  which  we  invari- 
ably raise  the  chimney-pot  or  bowler  of 
commerce  and  conventionality.  The  vic- 
tory of  the  Prince  of  WALES  with  Mousme 
on  Thursday,  however,  threw  a  little 
warmth  into  the  meeting ;  and  will  Mr. 
HAWKE  and  the  Anti-Gambling  League  be 
down  on  H.R.H.  when  I  state  that  he  had 
a  bit  on  his  pretty  child  of  St.  Simon? 
(N.B. — I  never  knew  a  race-horse  yet  with- 
out a  bit  on  it  when  running.  Twiggez 
vous,  honoured  Sir?) 

In  the  meantime,  what  do  Mr.  H.  and 
the  Aggravated-Grandmother  League 
want?  If  they  imagine  victory  assured 
because  a  few  bookmakers  and  their  gen- 
teel pencillers  are  convicted,  they  err  as 
lamentably  as  did  Mrs.  PAKTINGTON  when 
battling  the  Atlantic  Ocean  with  her  mop. 
Take  the  word,  Sir,  of  an  old  and  white- 
whiskered  pard.  You  might  construct  the 
Channel  Tunnel  or  travel  to  Pekin  in  an 
aeronautical  vessel,  but,  if  we  were  Medes 
and  Persians,  the  laws  couldn't  prevent  us 
from  imperilling  our  paper,  gold,  silver  or 
bronze  in  the  Game  of  Speculation.  And 


if  Mr.  H.  and  the  Aggravated  Grand- 
mothers drive  us  off  the  Turf  in  England, 
you  may  rest  assured  that,  like  Irish  sham- 
rocks, we  shall  rise  up  again  somewhere 
else,  be  it  on  the  broad  plains  of  Thessaly, 
where  gate-money  meetings  would  be  of 
immense  advantage  to  King  GEORGE  ot 
Greece,  or  on  the  gentle  sward  which,  I 
am  told,  environs  the  great  and  salubrious 
lakes  of  Africa. 

But,  jam  satis,  as  the  poet  said  when  he 
had  finished  the  pot  of  marmalade.  Let 
me  turn  my  lighthouse  eye  on  the  troubled 
sea  of  the  City  and  Sub—a  name  which,  in 
this  abbreviated  form,  rhymes  nicely  with 
"  pub,"  and  Bacchus  and  that  German 
beer-swiller,  Gambrinus,  know  that  the 
Licensed  Victuallers  not  only  flock  to  Ep- 
som on  the  occasion  of  this  London-cum- 
Clapham  and  Tooting  contest,  but  are 
always  accompanied  by  a  Birnam  Flower 
Garden  of  Licensed  Victualleresses,  ma- 
trons and  maids,  dames  and  damsels, 
ladies  and  lasses,  relieved  for  the  nonce 
from  the  strain  of  the  beer-engine  and  the 
manipulation  of  the  corkscrew.  Bless  their 
happy  faces !  Their  manners  may  not  be 
those  of  Lady  Clara  Vert,  de  Vere,  but 
they  are  a  good  deal  better  than  those  of 
Madame  Sans-Gene  at  Sir  HENRY  IRVINO'S 
Theatre,  in  my  humble  opinion. 

And  now  to  business.  Let  me  mount 
Pegasus  with  the  hope,  Sir,  that  you,  and 
the  Princes  and  Nobles  with  whom  you 
consort,  have  your  silken  handkerchiefs  so 
well  tasselled  that  you  will  be  able  to  place 
a  goodly  number  of  shekels  on  the  selec- 
tions— remember  I  am  of  the  1,  2,  3,  or 
Ancient  Order  of  Starters  Belief — of  your 
true  friend  and  faithful  adviser.  So  here 
goes,  as  the  Dog  exclaimed  when  he 
rescued  the  child  who  wasn't  drowning. 


With  Fallen  crest  I  'd  surely  be 

Did  Aural  head  cote  win  the  prize. 
The  Bornean  nag  is  not  for  me, 

But  Cagliostro  can't  despise. 
The  Hebronchitis  runneth  well, 

But  I  prefer  the  Scottish  Bay. 
The  Devil  pulls,  as  all  can  tell, 

Against  the  Feafe  we  need  to-day. 
But  give  the  Market  Horse  to  me, 
Conjointly  with  the  Almond  Tree, 
And  Mel/y  in  the  one,  two,  three. 

There,  honoured  Sir,  is  the  little  pro- 
gramme laid  out  as  neatly  as  Lieutenant 
DAN  GODFREY  was  wont  to  arrange  his 
melodious  selections  for  the  Trooping  of 
the  Colour.  Knowing  that  you  are  some- 
what chary  under  the  Hawke-Hawkins  de- 
cision of  risking  your  revered  self  within 
the  precincts  or  a  Place,  I  take  leave  to 
tell  you  that,  in  partnership  with  my 
friend,  Captain  PHILIP  QUISBY,  I  have 
chartered  a  coach,  which  will  be  found  on 
the  Hill  (close  by  the  topmost  "  Knockme- 
downs"),  where  business  can  be  done  with 
the  utmost  secrecy  and  despatch. 

Ever  your  devoted  helot, 

DARBY  JONES. 


WE  ARE  SIX. 

A  Wordsworthian  Fragment. 

I  MET  a  little  Concert  chap, 
He  was  one  of  Six,  he  said ; 

His  hair  was  thick,  but,  by  strange  hap, 
Less  thick  than,  was  his  head. 

He  had  a  simple  stolid  air, 

And  he  was  quaintly  clad. 
He  said,  "  I  'm  here  to  see  all  fair !  " — 

His  folly  made  me  mad. 

"  Your  co-performers,  wooden-head, 

How  many  may  you  be  ?  " 
"  How  many  ?    Six  in  all,"  he  said, 

And  wondering  looked  at  me. 

"  And  what 's  your  game  ?     I  pray  you 
tell ! " 

He  answered,  "  Six  are  we  ; 
Young  CXTRZON  is  an,  awful  swell ; 

Our  ships  are  on  the  sea." 

"If  CURZON  is  an  awful  swell, 

If  ships  are  on  the  sea, 
What  mean  the  Six  ?    I  pray  you  tell 

What  your  joint  game  may  be." 

Then  did  the  little  chap  reply, 
"  Six  Mighty  Powers  are  we, 

And  Three  of  us — well,  we  stand  by, 
And  watch  the  other  Three  ! 

"  And  of  the  latter  Three  there  's  One 

Who  seems  in  a  queer  fix  ; 
The  other  pair,  they  boss  the  fun. 

Ah !  we  're  a  Mighty  Six ! ! !  " 

"  If  Three  are  mute,  or  dead,"  I  said, 

"And  One  is  in  a  fix, 
You're  practically  Two!"    But  still 
That  Concert  cove  would  have  his  will, 

And  said,  "  Nay,  we  are  Six ! ! !  " 


Honours  Divided. 

(Thought  on  Transactions  in  the  Transvaal.) 

To  open  people's  eyes  one  man  desires, 
Another's    special    business    is    to    shut 

them ; 
One  politician  has  to  pull  the  wires, 

Another  has  to — cut  them  ! 
It    all    depends — sure    nothing    could    be 

clearer — 
If  you  are  in  Mafeking  or  Madeira ! 


MAT  8,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


•211 


AT    A    LITERARY    AND    ARTISTIC    BANQUET. 

Waiter  (to  Colleague).  "WELL,  THEY  MAY  'AVE  IHB  INTILLEC',  FRF.D,  BUT  wi  CERTAINLY  'AS  THB  GOOD  LOOKS!' 


DARBY  JONES  REFERS  TO  THE  "TWO 
THOUSAND." 

HONOURED  SIB, — I  can  well  understand 
that  you,  with  other  honoured  patrons, 
were  not  altogether  pleased  with  my 
diagnosis  of  the  City  end  Suburban 
Handicap.  Nevertheless,  remember  that 
I  failed  not  to  point  out  the  tran- 
scendent merits  of  the  Winner  and 
of  braw  Bay  Itonald,  the  while  my  out- 
eider,  Amandifr,  ran  a  dead  heat  for 
fourth  place.  You  will  observe,  too,  that 
I  utterly  disregarded  the  claims  of  such 
crass  pretenders  as  Crestfallen  and  South 
A  iittralian.  The  latter  should  be  set  aside 
as  a  mount  for  one  of  the  gallant  Antipo- 
dean Brigade,  which  has  arrived  to  honour 
the  Diamond  Commemoration  Day. 

"  After  Epsom,  Sandown  !  "  the  racing 
folk  cried,  just  as  the  magnificent  Louis 
QUINZB,  King  of  France,  Navarre,  and 
other  niiimr  countries,  invoked  the  deluge. 
Personally  I  do  not  appreciate  Sandown, 
especially  in  very  showery  or  very  hot 
weather,  when  the  toil  from  the  station 
reminds  one  of  the  excursion  of  LONO- 
FULLOW'S  hero  in  that  abstruse  poem,  "  Ex- 
ri'lsior."  "Sand  up!  "  not  Sanrfown,  ought 
to  be  the  cry,  while  ascending  that  incon- 
venii  nt  mount  abutting  on  the  most  acci- 
dental course  in  Great  Britain. 

Let  us  rather  to  Newmarket.  Have  you, 
honoured  Sir,  ever  seen,  as  I  have,  the 
ever-sportsmanlike  Heir-Apparent  canter- 
ing over  the  classic  Heath  on  his  cob  at 
nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  surveying 
with  a  critical  eye  the  strings"  about 
which  there  is  no  "  roping  "  ?  I  trow  not. 
Newmarket,  is  indeed  a  glorious  place,  and 
that  H.R.H.  should  forsake  his  well-earned 


feather  bed  in  order  to  examine  the  Ups 
and  Downs  of  Racing,  does  not  astonish 
yours  truly. 

The  Two  Thousand  Guineas  Race  has  not 
that  importance  which  it  held  of  yore,  but 
among  these  latter-day  saints  of  the  Racing 
Calends,  we  must  still  remember  such 
heroes  as  Surefoot,  Common,  Isinglass. 
Kirk  Connell,  and  St.  Frusquin.  It  used 
to  be  held  as  a  Dress  Rehearsal  for  the 
Derby  Drama;  it  is  now  only  the  Pre- 
liminary Farce.  Nevertheless,  it  commands 
the  same  respect  which  we  bestow  on  the 
Acropolis  of  Athens,  the  Pyramids  of 
Egypt,  and  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  because 
it  smacks  of  remains.  The  Bard  therefore 
dedicates  thess  few  lines  to  the  object  of 
a  subject,  which  once  aroused  an  interest 
second  only  after  the  event  to  Nunhead 
Cemetery.  The  Augur  (mark  his  words) 
says :  — 

This  used  to  be  a  race,  but  now 
It  seems  to  be  a  sort  of  promenade ; 

For  ev'ry  mare "s  apparently  a  cow. 
And  ev'ry  horse  unfit  to  meet  a  jade. 

The  Irishman,  they  say,  will  "  funk  "  the  task, 
The  Royal  Flunkey's  chances  are  much  fainter, 

The  Channel  Iilantti  won't  do  what  they  ark, 
So  I  must  choose  the  Primrose  Spanith  Painter. 

But  don't  forget,  with  women  as  with  mm, 

A  Bard  may  chant,  "  There 's  someone  on  the 
Ken.'' 

The  Ag-p-jvated-Grandmotbers  League 
appears  to  be  in  want  of  friends.  Let  the 
members — I  never  met  one — slip  out  of  the 
circle  of  good  bookies,  and  invest  the  price 
of  the  latest  subscription  from  Mr.  HAWKE 
on  the  carefully-weighed  selection  of 
Yours  ever  on  the  spot, 

DARBY  JONES. 


THE  SPEC  IN  SEATS. 

(A  PostibU  Development.) 
Letter  No.  1.  May  10,  1897. 

DEAR  SIB,  —  Seeing  that  ^ou  have  re- 
cently arrived  from  New  York,  and  no 
doubt  are  desirous  of  securing  a  window 
to  view  the  Diamond  Jubilee  Procession.  I 
beg  to  submit  the  excellent  situation  de- 
scribed overleaf.  The  price  will  be  £1,500. 
Yours  truly,  MANAGER. 

Letter  No.  2.  Hay  20,  1897. 

DEAR  SIB, — The  negotiations  consequent 
upon  your  refusing  to  pay  the  price  sug- 
gested in  my  letter  of  the  10th  inst.  having 
fallen  through,  I  will  again  offer  you  the 
window.  The  price  will  be  £1,000. 

\ours  truly,        MANAGER. 
Letter  No.  3.  May  30,  1897. 

DEAR  SIB, — You  will  remember  that  ten 
day  ago  I  had  the  pleasure  of  submitting  a 
window  to  you  for  occupation  on  the  22nd 
of  June.  The  price  is  now  £500. 

Yours  truly,         MANAGER. 
Letter  No.  4.  June  10,  1897. 

DBAB  SIB, — I  beg  to  inform  you  that  the 
window  of  which  I  have  written  several 
times,  and  which  is  described  overleaf,  is 
still  unlet.  The  price  is  now  £50. 

Yours  truly,        MANAGER. 
Letter  No.  5.  June  20,  1897. 

DBAB  SIR, — As  time  presses,  I  beg  to 
say  that  the  windo *  is  still  unlet.  You  can 
have  it  for  £5. 

Yours  truly,        MANAGER. 
Telegram  (reply  paid).  June  21,  1897. 

Window  still  unoccupied.  Price  five 
shillings.  No  reasonable  offer  refused. 


vou  cxi  i. 


218 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  8,  1897. 


A    DECIDED    PREFERENCE. 

John  Bull  (to  Miss  Canada}.   "THANK  YOU,  MY  DEAR!    YOUR  FAVOUR  is  AS  WELCOME  AS  THE  FLOWERS  IJT  MAY!" 
[  "The  immediate  point  is  that  Canada  has  decided  to  shift  her  main  market  from  the  United  States  to  the  United  Kingdom."— Times,  Monday,  April  26.] 


MAY  8,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    oil    THE    LONDON    < 'IIA  IUVARI. 


219 


THINGS    ARE    NOT    ALWAYS    WHAT   THEY 


Short  sighted  Old  Gent  (to  realistic  Scarecrow). 


'CONFOUND  YOU,  SIR,  PUT  YOUR  STICK  DOWN  ! 
MY  HORSE?" 


SEEM. 

CAN'T  YOU  SEK  YOU  ARE  FRIOHTKNIHO 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

The  Thackeray*  in  India  (HBNRY  FROWDE),  purports  to  be  nn 
account  of  the  history  of  the  family  and  connections  of  the 
great  novelist.  That  purpose  is  fully  accomplished.  But  beyond 
it  Sir  WILLIAM  HUNTER,  in.  a  volume  of  less  than  two  hundred 
pages,  manages,  with  perhaps  unconscious  art,  to  give  a  picture 
of  India  in  John  Company's  time,  full  of  light  and  colour.  His 
first  chapter,  "  Some  Calcutta  Graves,"  conveys  a  more  vivid 
impression  of  the  birth  of  our  Empire  in  India,  and  of  the 
personalities  of  the  men  who  brought  it  about,  than  some  much 
larger  tomes  my  Baronite  has  read  through.  The  THACKERAYS 
Sir  WILLIAM  HUNTER  follows  in  patient,  loving  quest  from  the 
first  WILLIAM  MAKEPEACE,  who,  in  1776,  went  out  as  a  covenanted 
civilian  in  the  service  of  the  East  India  Company,  down  to  the 
last  and  more  illustrious,  born  in  Calcutta  on  the  18th  of  July, 
1811.  Four  sons  of  the  first  W.  M.  T.,  and  fourteen  of  his 
descendants  and  kinsmen,  served  John  Company.  In  the  novel- 
ist's grand-uncle  and  guardian,  PETER  MOORE,  is  disclosed  the 
lay  figure  which  THACKERAY  later  clothed  with  the  simple  virtues 
and  noble  dignity  of  Colonel  Newcome.  Though  ruined  himself, 
cast  down  as  Colonel  Newcome  was  from  a  position  of  wealth  and 
ease  to  one  of  poverty,  PETER  MOORE  so  well  served  his  little 
ward,  that  when  in  1832  THACKERAY  came  of  age,  he  found  him- 
self in  possession  of  £20,000.  The  book  is  fascinating  from  first 
page  to  last.  It  is  worth  more  than  it  costs  simply  for  this 
glimpse  of  Colonel  Newcome  in  the  flesh. 

"  I  do  not  speak  well  your  beautiful  language,  but  I  admire 
him,"  said,  apologetically  to  a  Frenchman,  a  certain  distinguished 
English  artist  who  loved  to  be  mistaken  by  strangers  for  a 
foreigner.  So  quoth  the  Baron  to  the  bicyclist,  I  dp  not 
myself  'wheel,'  but  I  admire  him,"  and,  on  the  "  humani  nihil 
alienum  "  principle,  nothing  that  interests  so  vast  a  majority  of 
Englishmen  and  Englishwomen  can  possibly  be  foreign  to  the 
large-hearted  Baron.  With  pleasure,  then,  has  he  considered 
the  pages  of  The.  Complete  Cyclist,  which  is  No.  2  of  the  Isthmian 
Library,  published  by  INNES  &  Co.,  of  Bedford  Street.  The 
Baron  does  not  know  who  the  "  Co."  in  this  firm  may  be,  but  how 
apposite  for  the  publishers  of  anv  guide-book  showing  bicyclists 
and  others  where  to  go,  and  at  what  hotels  to  stay,  would  be  the 


name  of  "  Innes  and  Outs."  Curious  to  note,  that  at  first  a  bicy- 
clist was  called  "a  cad  on  castors."  Not  a  few  caddish  bicyclists 
there  are,  unfortunately,  like  the  poor,  "  always  with  us,"  and  many 
a  lady  and  gentleman  wheeler  has  had  to  suffer  for  coming  into 
collision  with  these  '.\KKIES  of  the  wheel.  In  this  book  there  are 
several  very  amusing  stories,  one  of  the  best  being  the  story  of 
"  The  Duck  and  the  Wheel."  which  son  nils  as  if  it  were  part  of 
a  menu.  The  "Scorcher  is  ridiculed  and  denounced.  Ap- 
parently every  fair  "  bicycliste  "  must  be  a  bigamist,  as  she  can- 
not get  along  without  a  couple  of  "hubs."  Decidedly  an 
amusing,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  all  "  leaders  "  of  the  bicycling 
fashion,  and  to  all  "wheelers,"  an  interesting  and  useful  volume. 
THB  BABON  m:  B.-W. 

A  KEW-EIOUS  PBOPOSAL. 

DEAR  MR.  PTTNCH, — Seeing  that  considerable  difficulty  is  being 
experienced  by  the  Court  officials  in  finding  sufficient  accommo- 
dation for  the  guests  of  HER  MAJESTY  dunng  the  Commemora- 
tion Festivities,  I  venture  to  suggest  that  the  Representative 
of  the  Emperor  of  CHINA  might  be  very  comfortably  housed  in 
the  Pagoda  of  Kew'  Gardens,  which  is  at  present,  as  useless  as 
when  it  was  erected,  and  denied  to  the  public.  It  consists  of 
nine  stories  and  a  basement,  and  no  doubt  could  easily  be  con- 
verted into  Celestial  flats,  with,  let  us  say,  a  Jubilee  lift.  More- 
over, Kew  Gardens  are  celebrated  for  birds'  nests,  wherewithal 
to  provide  the  necessary  soup,  and  I  can  guarantee  plenty  of 
nightingales.  Trusting  that  you  will  bring  my  idea  to  the  notice 
of  Sir  SPENCER  PONSONBY-FANH,  or  someone  equally  versed  in 
the  vicissitudes  of  Box  and  Cox, — I  am,  yours  expectantly, 

W  Mow-Pattern  Lodge,  Itleworth.          CAPBIOORNTB  JUJJMT. 


"TANT.BNB:  ANIMIS  SEASIDIBUS  IR.B!" —  Judging  from  the 
reports  in  the  Daily  Mail,  and  from  some  remarks  in  Truth,  the 
recent  royal  visit  of  H.R.H.  The  Duchess  of  TECK  to  Ramsgate 
has  resulted  in  a  feeling  of  Wei-gall-and-bitterness  among  the 
Mayor,  Corporation,  and  towns-folk  of  that  salubrious  seaside 
resort.  The  Mayor  represents,  in  himself,  the  Head  and  the 
Hart  of  the  town. 


220 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  8,  1897. 


Eva.  "MOTHER  SAYS  I  AM  DESCENDED  FROM  MART  QUEEN  o" 
SCOTS."  Tom.  "So  AM  I  THEN,  EVA." 

Eva.  "DON'T  BB  so  SILLY,  TOM!  You  CAN'T  BE.  YOU'RE  A 
BOY  ! " 


DOING    THE    TOWER. 

It  is  a  dull  and  chilly  afternoon.  The  crowd  of  Sightseers  is  large  and 
miscellaneous  ;  amongst  them  may  be  mentioned  (1)  a  Matron  from 
the  Mile  End  Road,  addressed  as  "Mrs.  Edlcins,  Mum,"  whose 
hilariousness  expresses  itself  in  the  form  of  persiflage  ;  with  her,  a 
bevy  of  factory  girls,  by  whom  her  humour  is  keenly  appreciated. 
(2)  A  Person  with  a  talent  for  impromptu  platitude  which  almost 
amounts  to  genius  ;  with  him,  an  adult  nephew,  who  has  the  highly 
irritating  peculiarity  of  never  being  at  hand  when  addressed.  (3)  A 
tall  Sergeant  in  the  Guards,  with  his  "young  woman"  and  her 
married  sister.  (4)  A  wheezy  and  husky  old  Lady,  with  an  admiring 
country  friend.  (5)  A  Languid  Man,  with  two  bored  Ladies,  and 
(6)  Our  inevitable  acquaintance,  the  Comic  Cockney. 

IN  THE  REGALIA  ROOM. 

Mrs.  Edkins.  That 's  'ER  MAJESTY'S  best  crownd,  that  is.  I 
wonder  if  she  'd  let  me  'ave  the  loan  of  it  some  Sunday.  I  should 
look  nice  goin'  down  to  Eppin'  Forest  with  that  on  my  'ed  I 

First  Factory  Girl.  Lorluvyer,  Mrs.  EDKINS,  mum,  a  top'eavy 
concern  like  that  wouldn"  stay  long  on  your  'ed. 

Mrs.  Edkins.  Oh,  I  dunno.     With  a  couple  o'  'at-pins! 

The  Sergeant's  Young  Woman  (shrewdly).  The  Royal  Family 
seems  partial  to  salt,  from  the  number  and  size  of  the  salt- 
cellars they  've  got  here  ! 

The  Sergeant.  That's  natural  enough,  being,  as  you  may  say, 
the  salt  of  the  earth  themselves.  In  this  case  over  here,  you 
see  (with  an  air  of  proprietorship),  we  keep  the  Swords  of  State ! 

His  Companions  (with  awestruck  reverence) .  What  whoppers ! 


The  Platitudinarian  (to  his  Nephew).  By  a  striking  and  beau- 
tiful allegory,  the  precise  origin  of  which  is  lost  in  obscurity,  the 
Sword  of  Mercy — though  forty  inches  long — is  entirely  lacking 
in  point. 

The  Comic  Cockney  (whom,  owing  to  the  gloom,  he  has  addressed 
by  mistake).  You  don't  s'y  so,  Mister.  Well,  I've  'eard  remarks 
since  I  come  in  'ere  as  kin  tike  the  shoine  outer  the  Sword  o' 
Mercy  I 

AT  THE  ENTRANCE  TO  THE  ARMOURY. 

The  Comic  Cockney  (to  his  Companion).  J'ever  'ear  me  purtend 
to  be  a  kid?  Jest  you  listen,  then.  (Approaches  Warder  on 
guard,  presents  ticket,  and  speaks  in  the  excruciating  falsetto  of 
a  stage-infant.)  P'ease,  Misser  Beefeater,  I  wants  my  ticket 
pun'sed. 
The  Warder  (after  surveying  him).  You  mean  your  'ed. 

[The  C.  C.  crawls  upstairs,  cruslied  for  the  moment. 
IN  THE  CHAPEL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 

The  Platitudinarian  (to  his  Nephew).  Strange  to  think  that 
these  very  arches  must  have  frequently  witnessed  the  devotions 
of  WILLIAM  THE  CONQUEROR  and  his  family !  How  it  thrills  one 
with  the  consciousness  of  our  close  kinship  with  the  past.  Don't 
you  feel  that  ? 

Youthful  Policeman  (whose  arm  he  has  taken  in  the  dark- 
ness, modestly).  Why,  you  see,  Sir,  not  bein'  related  to  the 
fam  ly  myself,  I  can't  'ardly — 

[He  finds  himself  abruptly  released. 

The  Platitudinarian  (to  himself) .  It 's  an  extraordinary  thing 
that  nephew  of  mine  will  lag  behind  like  this.  No,  he 's  on 
ahead,  in  the  Armoury.  What  good  he  expects  to  get  by  coming 
here  if  he  doesn't  keep  with  me,  I  don't — 

[He  follows  in  pursuit. 
IN  THE  BANQUETING  HALL. 

Tlie  Sergeant's  Young  Woman.  I  like  the  way  they  Ve  done 
the  walls  and  ceilings,  all  in  patterns  with  swords.  So  out  of  the 
common. 

The  Sergeant  (gratified).  Yes,  it 's  tasty.  But  you  come  along 
and  I  '11  snow  you  a  trophy  of  Injian  corn  and  a  bird  pursooin" 
a  butterfly,  all  made  out  of  old  bayonets  and  ramrods  and  gun- 
locks. 

His  Young  Woman.  What!  a  bird  and  a  butterfly  made  out 
of  bayonets !  Well,  you  'ave  got  some  novelties  'ere,  I  must  say ! 

First  Factory  Oirl.  'Ullo,  there  's  ole  Queen  ELIZABETH  on  the 
'orse,  d'yer  see  ?  and  that 's  her  page-boy  'olding  of  it. 

Second  Factory  Girl  (reading  placard).  "As  she  appeared  on 
her  way  to  St.  Paul's  to  return  thanks  for  the  Destruction  of 
the  Spanish  Armada."  Well,  she  ain't  dressed  not  what  I  call 
smart,  would  you,  Mrs.  EDKINS,  mum? 

Mrs.  Edkins.  I  wouldn'  be  seen  so  shabby  myself.  Still 
(indulgently),  she'd  be  nicelookin'  enough,  if  it  wasn't  for 
her  fice. 

IN  THE  COUNCIL  CHAMBER. 

First  Bored  Lady.  It  really  is  rather  worth  seeing,  don't  you 
think.  I  'm  quite  glad  we  came. 

Second  Bored  Lady.  Yes,  all  these  old  knights  in  armour  are 
rather  dears.  (Checking  a  yawn.)  Only  there  are  so  many  of 
them ! 

The  Languid  Man.  They  're  distinctly  not  bad.  And  they  've 
got  some  tolerable  things  here.  Here 's  the  old  beheading- 
axe,  you  see,  and  the  block  Lord  LOVAT  was  executed  on. 

First  Bored  Lady.  I  think  they're  quite  horrible.  (Sleepily.) 
It  makes  me  feel  perfectly  creepy  to  look  at  them. 

Second  Bored  Lady  (checking  another  yawn).  But  rather  in- 
teresting. You  can  see  the  marks  of  the  axe  on  the  block 
quite  plainly. 

First  Bored  Lady.  I  don't  see  the  use  of  preserving  such 
horrid  things — they  only  spoil  one's  tea. 

The  Platitudinarian  (once  more  addressing  his  elusive  Nephew). 
The  executioner's  axe  1  A  sinister-looking  implement  indeed. 
How  many  noble  and  promising  careers  have  been  cut  short 
by  that  grim  hatchet ! 

The  Bystander  (a  complete  stranger,  but  sympathetic).  Yei 
right,  Guv'ner,  it 's  took  the  crumpets  orf  of  a  good  few  blokes 
in  its  toime,  ain't  it? 

[The  Platitudinarian  moves  away  in  wrathful  discomfiture. 

The  Wheezy  Old  Lady  (to  her  Friend,  as  they  inspect  a  mounted 
effigy  in  tilting-armour) .  You  see,  my  dear,  you  see,  this  was 
when  they  'ad  'and  to  'and  fighting,  whereas  now,  you  see,  they 
fight  a  'undred  miles  away  from  one  another,  which  is  very 
different. 

Her  Friend  from- the  Country.  Law,  Mrs.  BELLARS,  mum,  I 
do  like  to  'ear  you  talk,  I  dew.  But  'owever  them  sojers  could 
get  on  top  of  a  'orse  at  alt  in  them  stiff  iron  petticuts — well, 
that  beats  me. 


MAY  8,  1897.] 


Pt'NCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


221 


M  rs.  lidlars.  They  'ad  their  ways,  my  dear,  depend  upon  it. 
Some,  now,  'ud  tell  you  it  was  done  by  pulleys  ;  others,  as  the 
man  stood  a-streddle  across  two  blocks,  and  the  "orse  led  under 
him  —  or  again,  they  might  ha"  used  a  pair  o'  kitching  steps,  or 
trained  the  'orse  to  lay  down  —  same  as  camels  —  but  it  stands  to 
reason  it  was  done  some'ow. 

II:  i  l-'iund.  It's  a  wonder  wherever  you  dew  get  all  your 
knowledge  from.  I  declare  you  've  a  word  to  say  'bout  every- 
tlmik. 

Mrs.  lidlars.  Well,  o'  course,  my  dear,  o'  course,  living  in  a 
place  like  London,  well,  it  do  stimilate  the  intellecks. 

A  Guidf  (In  his  party).  This  curious  'elmet,  the  one  you  see 
with  twisted  rani's  horns.  painted  mask,  and  round  iron  spec- 
tacles, was  lonn  supposed  to  have  belonged  to  the  celebrated 
jester.  \Vn.i.  SOMKH.S,  hut  is  now  known  to  have  been  pre- 
sented to  HKNIIV  TIIK  EIGHTH  by  the  Emperor  MAXIMILIAN. 

The  Intelligent  Member  of  his  party.  I  see,  yes.  For  the 
Fifth  of  November,  eh? 

IN  THE  BEAUCHAHP  TOWER. 

A  Mother.  Only  fancy,  CHARLIE,  all  these  carvings  on  the 
walls  were  done  by  poor  people  who  had  their  heads  cut  off 
afterwards  outside  in  the  yard  there  ' 

Charlie  (who  has  observed  the  notices  prohibiting  the  Public 
from  defacing  the  Stones).  What  do  they  do  to  people  who  carve 
their  namus  on  the  wall  now,  Mummy  ? 

The  Languid  Man.  Some  of  the  prisoners  seem  to  have  had  a 
very  fair  notion  of  carving. 

First  Bored  Lady.  Yes,  poor  dears,  I  daresay  it  was  quite  an 
amusement  for  them.  There  's  nothing  else  to  see,  is  there? 

The  Platitudinarian  (addressing  —  with  his  usual  luck  —  the 
Comic  Cockney).  Ah.  if  these  old  walls  could  only  speak,  what 
tales  they  might  tell! 

The  Comic  Cockney.  Not  much  they  wouldn't,  Guv'nor.  They 
wouldn"  git  no  chornce  while  you  were  about  ! 

The  Platitudinarian  (to  himself,  catching  an  explosive  snigger 
from  behind).  This  is  the  very  last  time  I  come  out  with  that 
boy  !  He  's  no  companion  for  me  1 

OUTSIDE. 

First  Factory  Girl.  See  that  plice  they  Ve  rijed  in  ?  That  's 
where  they  chopped  ANNE  BOLEYN'S  'ed  orf,  strite,  it  is! 

Second  Factory  Girl  (interested).  Lori  'Ere,  less  go  an  'ave  a 
jig  on  it.  Come  on,  Mrs.  EDKINS,  mum  1 

Mrs.  Edkins.  Not  me!  One  o'  them  ole  blokes  in  the  blue 
penwipers  (alluding  to  the  Warders,  who  are  wearing 
their  winter  capes)  might  'ave  my  'ed  off  if  I  did.  I  'm  goin' 
to  'ave  a  little  talk  with  some  o'  these  sojer-boys,  I  am.  (Ad- 
dressing some  privates,  who  are  standing  outside  the  Mainguard.) 
I  say,  boys  (in  the  tone  of  a  person  who  has  just  discovered  an 
abuse),  there's  a  pore  young  man  stuck  up  over  there  agen  the 
wall  with  a  gun  in  his  'and,  and  he  won't  move  !  I  can't  git  'im 
to  pass  a  remark. 

First  Private.  All  right,  Mother,  you  let  him  alone—  he  's 
doing  his  dooty,  he  is. 

Mrs.  Edkins  (suddenly  seized  with  patriotic  enthusiasm).  'Evin 
bless  yer,  my  boys  I  You  fight  for  your  QUEEN,  you  do  I 

Second  Private.  Ah,  and  for  you,  too,  if  needed. 

Mrs.  Edkins  (with  feminine  variability).  Lorluveyer,  I  don 
want  yer  to  fight  for  me.  I  can  fight  for  myself,  I  can. 

Third  Private.  Better  leave  that  to  us,  Mother. 

Mrs.  Edkins  (unaccountably  aggressive).  If  you  was  to  give 
me  a  black  eye,  I  could  give  you  two  —  I  tell  yer  that  much  I 

The  Factory  Girls  (leading  her  gently  towards  the  archway). 
Lor,  Mrs.  EDKINS,  mum,  don't  you  git  a  torkin  to  them  —  they 
ain't  on'y  a  lot  o'  lobsters  ! 

Mrs.  Edkins.  I  was  on'y  a-tellin'  of  them  that  they've  stuck 
a  pore  young  man  agen  the  wall,  and,  try  as  I  may,  I  carn't 
git  'im  to— 

and  her  party  disappear  round  the  corner,  hilarious  to  the  last. 


MOST  POP-ULAR  !—  -Bravo,  M.  HKLDBIECK!  A  really  magnificent 
gift  !  One  hundred  dozen  bottles  of  champagne,  '93,  for  distribution 
among  all  the  hospitals  of  London  I  What  a  rush  there  will  be  to 
become  a  patient  in  any  one  of  the  wards  where  Heidsieck,  '93,  is 
prescribed  by  the  Faculty.  Real  pain  to  disappear  after  a 
tumbler  of  sham  pain  !  Chills  to  be  cured  by  draughts  of  the 
beverage  which,  in  the  slang  of  a  few  years  ago,  was  known  as 
"the  Boy."  "0  Formose  puer  nimium"  —  but  there  cannot  be 
"  nimium  "  of  the  "  Fiirmoxus  purr."  The  last  years  of  the  cen- 
tury are  made  memorable  by  this  Fin-de-Heid-siecklish  bounty! 


CATERING.— It  is  announced  that  Messrs.  SPIERS  AND  POND 
li;i\,'  taken  the  Kurness  Hotel.  We  presume  that  they  will  pro- 
vide it  with  a  silver  grill. 


A    PASTORAL    PUZZLE. 

SHEEP  SEARCHING  FOR  THEIR  LOST  SHEPHERD. 


A  BALLADE  OF  CHIMNEY-POTS. 

["  Thii  article  of  head-drew,  which  give*  the  finish  to  the  gentlenuui." 

Lrtttr  in  tht  "  7\ma  "from  a  firm  of  Hatttrt.] 
O  TELL  us  not  of  laurel  crowns,  which  might 

Have  decked  the  singer  of  another  lay, 
Of  Greek  or  Roman  helmets  to  affright 

The  fearful  foe  in  some  immortal  fray ! 

Hence  Tudor  cap,  and  Stuart  hat  away  I 
'Tis  but  a  hundred  years  since  we  began 

That  crowning  glory,  nobler  than  the  bay, 
"  Which  gives  the  finish  to  the  gentleman." 
Bald  CAESAR  would  have  hailed  it  with  delight, 

Better  than  wreaths  to  wear  throughout  the  day. 
Alas,  Black  Prince  and  BAYARD  you  were  quite 

Ungentlemanly  bounders  in  your  way  I 

Nor  you,  nor  CotUB-DB-LioN,  could  array 
Yourselves  in  what  our  counter-jumper  can, 

In  those  dark  ages  you  could  not  display 
What  "  gives  the  finish  to  the  gentleman." 
Poor  PHIDIAH  lived  ungladdened  by  the  sight 

Of  such  a  head-dress,  graceful,  gallant,  gay 
VELASQUEZ,  REMBRANDT,  TITIAN — king,  or  fa  ' 

In  chimney-pot  they  never  could  portray. 

That's  why  the  modern  man,  perhaps  R.A., 
Excels  them  all,  for  he  can  daily  scan 

The  hat,  unknown  to  duffers  such  as  they, 
"  WTu'ch  gives  the  finish  to  the  gentleman." 


Prince,  you  whose  taste  in  dress  these  hatters  say 

Is  universally  acknowledged,  can 
You  not  begin  a  better  hat  which  may 

Give,  likewise,  finish  to  the  gentleman? 


HER  BOYAL  HIQHNESS'S  MOST  "HAPPY  THOUGHT." — For  her 
excellent  practical  suggestion  and  her  liberal  contribution  towards 
the  funds  for  carrying  it  out,  the  Princess  will  dwell  in  the  memo- 
ries of  the  "  Children  of  the  Jago  "  not  only  as  Princess  of  Wails, 
but  aa  Princess  of  Good  Cheer !  Three  times  three  for  H.E.H.  ! 


222 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAT  8,  1897. 


She.    "  I   TOLD  YOU  THAT  YOUR   OLD   AUNT   HAD   A   WlLL   OF   HER  OWN." 

He  (tired  of  waiting}.   "I  KNOW  SHE  HAS.     I  ONLY  WISH  SHE'D  ENABLE  rs  TO  PBOBATE  IT!" 


THE  MODISH  MAY-QUEEN. 

(By  a  Modern  Daughter  of  Babylon. ) 

I  MUST  wake  and  rouse  up  early,  rise  up 
early,  mother  dear ; 

To-morrow  '11  be  the  tryingest  time  of  all 
the  London  year, 

Of  all  the  social  year,  mother,  the  try- 
ingest,  tiringest  day ; 

For  Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother, 
Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May ! 

There  '11    he    many    a    tired,    tired    eye, 

mother,  but  none  so  tired  as  mine, 
When  I  Ve  "  done  "  the  leading  pictures, 

when  I  Ve  toed  the  E.  A.  "  line." 
Then  there  '11  be  the  "  New."  and  Jan  Van 

Beers,  at.d — oh !  more  than  I  can  say  ; 
For  Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother, 

Art  is  cur  Queen  o'  the  May  I 
I  shall  sleep  so  sound  o'  nights,  mother,  I 

shall  never  want  to  wake. 
With  the  "  head  "  of  an  R.  A.  crowd,  and 

a  back  that  seems  like  to  break. 
But  I  must  gather  hints  and  tips,  and  learn 

knowing  things  to  say  ; 
For  Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother, 

Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May  I 
I  'd  rather  be  in  the  valley  where  Spring 

Nature  I  might  see, 
For  much  modern   Art  is — entre  nous — a 

mystery  to  me ; 
I  'd  rather  watch   the  lilac   bud,   and  the 

little  lambkins  play  ; 
But  Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother, 

Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May  1 


I  shall  feel  just  like  a  ghost,  mother,  my 

cheeks  all  drawn  and  white  ; 
I'd  rather  run  in  the  meadows,   mother, 

watching  the  blackbirds'  flight, 
But  then   they  'd  call   me   a  Philistine,   a 

most  awful  thing  to  say  ; 
For  Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother, 

Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May ! 

The  task  most  trying  I  fain  would  shirk, 

but  that  can  never  be. 
They  say  that  Art  is  long,  mother — and  so 

it  is,  to  me! 
There 's  many   a  nicer  way  of  passing  a 

warm,  bright,  springtide  day  ; 
But  Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother, 

Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May ! 

I'd  rather  be  rustic  maid,  and  dance  round 

a  Maypole  on  the  green. 
I  wish  that  Art,  in  its  modern  phase,  had 

never  been  made  our  Queen. 
But  to  bow  to  her  like  an  idol  huge  we 

must  flock  from  far  away  ; 
For  Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother, 

Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May  1 

Society  truckles  to  the  brush,  and  to  the 

chisel  cowers ; 
So  we  must  crowd  the  R.  A.  or  ''New," 

and  do  cuckoo-talk  for  hours. 
All  about  "values,"  "tone,"  "technique," 

— what  they  mean  I  cannot  say  ; 
But  Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother, 

Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May  I 

The  critics '11  come  and  pose,  mother,  and 
cocksure  strictures  pass, 


And  the  artists — they  are  free,  frank  chaps 

— swear  the  critic  is  an  ass. 
There  '11  be  no  rest,  scarce  a  flop  on  a  seat, 

the  whole  of  the  livelong  day ; 
For  Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother, 

Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May  1 

Upon  Show  Sunday,  mother,  I  felt  stale, 

and  fagged,  and  ill ; 
And  the  Private  Views,   which   one  can't 

refuse,  just  make  one  wearier  still. 
And  the  rivulet  of  Society  talk  must  ripple 

round  Art,  they  say  ; 
For  Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother, 

our  autocrat  Queen  o'  the  May  ! 

So  I  must  wake  and  get  up  early,  breakfast 
early,  mother  dear,  [London  year : 

To-morrow  '11  be  the  heaviest  day  of  all  the 

To-morrow  '11  be  of  this  Jubilee  Year  the 
awfullest,  achingest  day  ; 

For  Art  is  our  Queen  o'  the  May,  mother, 
our  London  Queen  o'  the  May  I 


OPEN  SESAME  ! 

"  We  have  the  Muses  nine,  the  Graces  three, 
And  all  the  passions — under  look  and  key." 
The  Poet  Laureate's  Poem,  at  the  Opening 
of  the  tiew  "  Her  Majesty's" 

ALFRED,  if  you  've  the  Nine,  and  Three, 
Confined — as  in  Pandora's  box — 

Pray,  now  you  're  Laureate,  set  them  free  ! 

Ungracious  'tis  to  turn  the  key — 
And  in  the  rustiest  of  locks — 

Upon  them,  till  we  hardly  know 

If  even  Hope  remains  below ! 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— MAY  8,  1897. 


HAMLET  AT  ATHENS. 

KlNO   GEORGE   (Prince  of  Denmark}. 

"  THE  TIME  IS  OUT  OP  JOINT ;  O  CURSED  SPITE ! 
THAT  EVER  I  WAS  BORN  TO  SET  IT  RIGHT!" 


MAY  8,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


225 


Clerk  (in  lite  temporary  absence  of  his  Employer).  ' 
ARABELLA  !    BLOW  ME  A  Kiss  ! " 


AKABKI.LV  ! 


His  Employer.  "  IT  ISN'T  AIIAHKI.I.A  ! !  " 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

Overlooking  the  Gardens  of  the  Crystal  Palace  on 
a  hazy  evening  in  early  Spring,  a  Disap- 
pointed Being  pens  some  lines  to  One  whom,  tie 
hopes  to  recover. 

ALL  dreamily  the  purple  mist 

Creeps  o'er  the  wooded  vale, 
With  here  and  there  aspire  sun-kissed, 

Like  beacons  of  the  dale. 
And  yondar,  where  the  tender  green 

Is  leaping  from  the  brown, 
Grim  spurs  of  sullen  grey  are  seen 

Outlying  forts  of  Town. 

Here  at  my  feet  those  flowers  nod 

That  make  the  Summer's  dawn, 
'Mid  bosky  dells  as  yet  untrod, 

And  grass  not  "out"  in  lawn. 
The  rosary  is  faint  with  bud, 

The  hawthorn  holds  its  sprays, 
While  PAXTOX  on  the  gravelled  mud 

The  scarce-clad  nymphs  surveys. 

'Twas  on  an  evening  just  like  this 

\\V  'd  dined  on  BERTRAM'S  best, 
The  champagne  raised  our  bubbling  bliss, 

The  menu  gave  us  zest. 
We  "d  eaten  new  asparagus, 

And  duckling,  and  green  peas, 
Ice-pudding,  too,  they  found  for  us, 

And  first  New  Forest  cheese. 

Such  primeurs  would  the  gods  regale, 
Our  hearts  were  young  and  gay, 

Wi>  deemed  the  light  could  never  fail, 
But  shine  for  us  alway. 


The  Police  are  to  be  supplied  with  a  short  Serge 
Jacket  for  the  warm  weather.  Let  u»  hope  the 
Serge  will  be  thoroughly  shrunk,  and  that  we  shall 
never  see  Kobert  aa  above. 


You  whispered  you  would  e'er  be  true, 

That  I  was  best  of  men, 
I  pointed  out  our  church  to  you, 

It  smiles  to-day  as  then  I 

When  suddenly  down  came  the  rain 

With  pelting  crash  of  hail, 
That  covered  up  our  fair  demesne 

In  one  long  streaming  veil. 
Our  park  was  gone,  our  landscape  bright 

Was  desolate,  forlorn ; 
And  so  began  that  weary  Night 

That  has  not  found  its  Morn. 

An  omen  surely  'tmust  have  been, 

My  banker  failed  next  day, 
And  all  the  primeurs  good  and  green 

Were  gone  and  put  away. 
But  now  there  conies  no  stormy  spell 

To  work  its  wicked  will, 
I  've  got  back  all  I  lost,  but — well, 

Our  church  is  waiting  still ! 


A  Zoological  Conundrum. 

Intending  Tenant  (to  Lord  BATTUSNATCH'S 
Head  Keeper).  And  how  about  the  birds f 
Are  they  plentiful,  GASKINS  P 

Gaskins.  Well,  Sir,  if  the  foxes  of  our 
two  neighbours  was  able  to  lay  pheasants' 
eggs,  I  should  say  there  'd  be  no  better 
shooting  south  o'  the  Trent. 


Ax  ATTEMPT  WARD-ID  OFF. — The  endea- 
vour of  the  Radicals  to  pick  a  crow  about 
Crewe. 


226 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  8,  1897. 


ROYAL    ACADEMY    PEEPS. 


No.  670.     "Pearls  before  Swine!"    An  incursion 
of  the  inhabitants  of  No.  678 !    W.  H.  Margetson. 


No.  291.  The  Perils  of  Steep  Perspective!   "Hold 
up,  mother ;  it 's  only  like  the  switchback !  " 

J.  S.  Sargent,  R.A.,  Elect. 


No.  638.  The  Haggard  Novelist  of  the  Cape ! 
"  What  a  thundering  storm  there  will  be  directly ! " 
M.  Greiffenhagen. 


No.   591.     The  Accomplished   Collie!     "A  dog 
teekut  tae  Glasgie,  please."    J.  H.  Lorimer. 


No.  669.    The  Disadvantage  of  being  hung  next     No.  388.    H.R.H.    "  Just  a  trirte,  please,  for  my 
to  a  Battle  Picture.    David  Farquharson.  Jubilee  Hospital  Fund  !  "    Julian  Storey. 


No.  477.    Design  for  a  Double  Corkscrew ;  or,  Gimlet, 
Prince  of  Denmark !    E.  A.  Abbey,  A.R.A. 


No.  527.    The  Last  Rehearsal  at  the  Lyceum ! 
Harold  H.  Piifard. 


MAT  8,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAIMVAIM. 


227 


CONVERSATIONAL    PITFALLS. 

ferlx  Spiller  (to  Sfias  Wihm,  an  hotel  acquaintance).  "On,  YES,  MOTHER  AND  I  ARE  TROTTING  ROUND  TOGETHER.     Btrr  DON'T  Ton 

FIND   TRAVELLING   ALONE   RATHER   DULL  f  "  iftSS  WUson.    "  NoT  ALTOGETHER." 

Bertit  Spiller.  "An,  I  IXPECT  YOU  'RK  ONE  OF  THOSE  WHO  DON'T  CARB  FOR  ANYBODY— AND  NOBODY  CABEH  FOR  YOU  !" 


AT  BURLINGTON  HOUSE. 

THIS,  the  One  Hundred  and  Twenty-ninth  Royal  Academy 
Exhibition,  will  be  memorable  as  the  first  under  the  Presidency 
of  Sir  EDWARD  3.  POYNTER.  "What's  an  'at  without  an  'ead? 
wrote  a  very  ancient  author  of  burlesque,  and,  d  propos  of  Sir 
EDWARD,  an  "AnRY  may  ask,  "  What 's  a  Nacademy  without  a 
NED  P  "  Sir  EDWIN  LANDSEER  would  have  rejoiced  could  he  have 
:<itvM>rn  that  a  POYNTER  would  take  the  Presidential  chair  at 
the  Council  of  "clever  dogs,"  all  Royal  Academicians.  Con- 
spicuous this  year  among  "  The  Elect "  are  the  works  of  JOHN 
LINGER  SARGENT — a  Sargent  worthy  to  be  a  Colonel,  a  Singer 
to  be  reckoned  among  the  Great  Tone  Poets. 

No.  76.  JOHN  MAcWinp.TER,  R.A.,  gives  us  "  Affric  Water, 
looking  tip."  This  eminent  artist  should  be  at  once  engaged  by 
the  Amalgamated  Apollinaris  and  Johannis  Co.,  to  illustrate  the 
shares  in  these  two  waters  "  looking  up. 

No.  77.  BRITON  RIVIERE,  R.A.,  instead  of  such  a  subject  as 
Una  and  the  Lion,  presents  us  to  A  Lady  and  a  Donkey.  The 
lady  lias  just  alighted,  and  the  donkey  shows  no  signs  of  moving. 
' '  If,' "  quotes  the  lady  to  herself,  " '  I  had  a  donkey  what 
wouldn't  go,  Would  I  wallop  him  ?  Oh,  dear  no  ! '  But  I  'd  dress 
him  up  in  bright  ribands,  put  a  leopard's  skin  on  his  back — just 
to  remind  him  of  the  old  ^Esopian  fable — and,  whatever  might 
be  said  as  to  his  obstinacy,  I  would  stand  by  him  to  the  last — 
that  is,  while  my  portrait  was  being  painted." 

No.  84.  Portrait  of  an  unfortunate  young  gentleman,  who  is 
looking  very  serious,  and  enough  to  make  him,  as  he  is  so  leaning 
to  the  left  that  it  is  evident  he  has  lost  hit  balance,  and  has  hardly 
anything  to  support  him.  This  is  by  W.  W.  OTTLESS,  R.A. 

HUBERT  HERKOMER,  R.A.,  has  done  a  goodly  number  of  por- 
traits, but  his  gem  is  in  the  Sculpture  Gallery,  No.  2052,  "The 
I'n-sidi-iilinl  Ttatlge  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Painters  in  II  ut<-r 
Colours,"  which  no  lover  of  art  should  fail  to  see,  whatever  else 
he  may  not  have  time  for  in  this  Academy.  In  this  room,  too, 
note  "  George  Alexander— Jiust"  (absit  omen!  but  GEORGE  ALEX- 
ANDER is  a  theatrical  manager),  by  ONSLOW  FORD,  R.A.  ;  also  a 
life-like  bust  of  Sir  Richard  Quain,  U.D.,  F.R.S.,  Most  Ex- 
traordinary Physician,  ivc.,  &c.,  by  THOMAS  BROCK,  not  the  fire- 
work maker,  but  the  Royal  Academician.  GEORGE  FRAMPTON'S 
Dame  Alice  Own  is  so  marvellously  life-like  that  the  awed  spec- 
tator is  fully  prepared  to  see  it  move  its  head,  lift  its  stick,  and 
perhaps  step  down  and  ask  for  a  catalogue. 


Look  at  No.  2053,  female  figure,  which,  like  the  lady  at  the 
Derby  that  wouldn't  bet,  "has  nothing  on,"  and  is  holding  a 
scimitar  in  a  most  dangerous  position.  It  is  called  Salome 
('ARRY  will  read  it  out  as  "Sal  Ome"),  and  is  the  work  of  Mr. 
BERTRAM  MACKENNAL. 

No.  2024.  Pope  I*o  XIII.,  P.M.  Signor  RAFFABLLI 
NANNINI  represents  his  Holiness  in  the  most  smiling  mood. 
Probably  after  mid-day  refection.  Had  it  been  "  A.M.'™  instead 
of  "P.M.,"  the  expression  might  have  been  less  genial. 

No.  1001.  Calm  in  the  Channel.  Delightful  little  picture. 
Might  have  been  aptly  called,  "  Where  all  it  Blue."  There  is  no 
shore  visible,  except  in  the  name  of  the  artist,  J.  RICHARD 
BAGSHAWE,  a  grandson  of  that  great  marine  painter,  CLARKBON 
STANFIELD. 

No.  453.  Special  correspondents  a  hundred  years  ago,  asking 

for  information  during  an  Egyptian  campaign.     W.  C.  HOMLEY. 

No.  445.  Temptation  of  St.  Anthony  (for  the  thousandth  time). 

The  Saint  not  to  be  tempted  by  any  amount  of  "  monkeys  "  (no 

"ponies"  were  offered),  cannot  be  attracted  by  a  study  from 

the  nude,  or  a  mere  .bare  idea,  as  suggested  by  JOHN  C.  DOI.LMAN. 

*.*  Some  of  the  demon  monkeys  worthy  of  a  Walpurgis  night. 

No.  558.  Quite  an  ideal  master  of  hounds.     Where  did  he  get 

his  hunting  breeches  and  topless  boots  made  ?  Hounds  apparently 

stuffed  with  cotton-wool.     Painted  by  CHARLES  W.  FCRSB.     Quite 

a  "  four  de  Furie." 

No.  680.  "There's  a  picture  for  you!"  Tableau  Fttxint! 
No  one  must  leave  the  Academy  without  studying  the  picture, 
and  thanking  the  Hanging  Committee.  It  is  called  "A  Trial  for 
Bigamy,"  by  EYRE  CROWE,  A. R.A.  Pity  it  cannot  be  bought  for 
an  automatic  show,  where  you  "  put  in  a  penny  and  the  figures 
will  work." 

No.  278.  Congratulations  to  GEORGE  H.  BOUOHTON,  R.A.  He 
paints  "  according  to  his  lights,"  and  the  effect  of  these  torches  is 
excellent. 

Our  artist  has  shown  how  admirably  JOHN  S.  SARGENT  has 
depicted  Mrs.  Carl  Meyer  and  Children — quite  the  portrait 
picture  of  the  year— on  a  sliding  scale,  a  sort  of  drawing-room 
tobogganing  exercise. 

SUMMARY . — Academy  exhibition,  on  the  whole,  not  up  to  the 
highest  oil  and  water  mark. 

EVIDENTLY  TRUE. — What  Sir  E.  MONSON  said  as  he  sailed 
away  :  "  There  's  a  large  heart  in  this  Brest." 


228 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  8,  1897. 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED   FKOM   THE   DIAKY  OK  TOIIY,  M.P. 

House  of  Commons,  Monday,  April  26. 
— Something  under  two  hundred  Members 
come  back  after  Easter  holidays.  Look 
much  more  like  as  if  they  were  going  to  a 
funeral.  Depression  so  overpowering  that 
by  nine  o'clock  feel  they  really  can't 
stand  any  more.  So  House  counted  out, 
which  is  pretty  well  for  a  Monday  night  in 
April.  Incidentally,  second  reading  of 
Necessitous  Schools  Bill  carried  after 
feeblest  show  of  opposition.  Government 
offer  Schoolboards  little  present  of  over 
£100,000  a  year.  Like  young  person  who 
shall  be  nameless  they  "  want  more."  Make 
show  of  righteous  indignation  at  inade- 
quacy of  dole  compared  with  that  bestowed 
on  Church  Schools.  But  half  a  loaf  better 
than  no  bread. 

"They  pocket  the  money,"  said  PRINCE 
ARTHUR,  "  whilst  snapping  at  the  hand 
that  bestows  it.  Would  give  a  few  half- 
crowns  to  charity  out  of  my  private  purse 
if  I  were  in  position  to  get  up  after  CHAN- 
NING  had  moved  his  hostile  amendment 
and  announce  that  in  view  of  honest 
scruples  of  gentlemen  opposite,  the 
Government  feel  bound  to  withdraw 
Bill  for  present  Session.  How  they 
would  howl ;  even  cut  themselves  with 
knives.  But  JOKIM  says  subject  too  seri- 
ous. We  can't  afford  to  play  with  another 
Education  Bill.  So  they  have  their  growl 
and  our  £100,000." 

Only  ray  of  consolation  on  dull,  dark 
evening  found  in  contemplation  of  coun- 
tenance of  JOHN  o'  GORST,  time-honoured 
Educationist.  As  SARK  has  said  before, 
the  world  has  lost  a  great  actor  in  GORST'S 
accidental  divagation  into  politics.  De- 
lightful to  watch  his  face  to-night  as  he 
sat  on  Treasury  Bench  actually  in  charge 
of  an  Education  Bill.  Behind  him,  visible 
to  the  mind's  eye,  flit  ghostly  figures  of  the 
Committee  of  Privy  Council  on  Education 
Now  and  then  he  furtively  looked  up  and 
down  the  Treasury  Bench  to  see  if  he  was 
truly  left  in  untrammelled  charge.  Practi- 
cally that  was  so.  Occasionally  PRINCF 
ARTHUR  stole  in  with  studiously  casual  air. 
Possibly  secretly  anxious  to  learn  if  the 
Vice-President  of  the  Council  had  broken 
out  in  any  fresh  place.  Anxiety  concealed 
behind  smiling  countenance.  Would  not 
presume  to  approach  his  own  seat  as  Leader 
of  the  House.  The  Leader  pro  tern.,  the 
Minister  in  charge  of  an  important  Bill, 
was  his  esteemed  friend  the  Vice-President 
of  the  Council.  With  him  at  the  helm  all 
was  well  with  the  Ship  of  State. 

All  the  same,  PRINCE  ARTHUR  thought  it 
desirable  to  ask  the  SOLICITOR-GEN  Bit  AL  to 
remain  in  close  attendance  till  the  Bill  was 
through  second  reading.  A  thoroughly  safe 
man  Sir  R.  FINLAY.  No  kicking  over  the 
traces  with  him. 

Business  done.  — •  Necessitous  Board 
Schools  Bill  read  second  time. 

Tuesday. — It  will  be  remembered  how 
when  Mr.  Vincent  Crummies  fotmd  in  local 
newspapers  paragraphs  eulogistic  of  his 
own  art,  or  the  talent  of  his  incomparable 
company,  he  was  struck  with  marvel  as  to 
"how  these  things  get  in  the  papers." 
There's  nothing  of  Crummies  about  HICKS- 
BEACH,  save,  momentarily,  a  similar  state 
of  marvel.  Here  are  the  newspapers  say- 
ing that  Conservative  Member  for  Crewe 
has  resolved  to  resign  his  seat.  So  credu- 
lous is  the  public  in  these  matters  that, 
reading  announcement  in  print,  they  ac- 
cepted it  without  reservation.  The  local 
Conservatives,  who  might  be  expected  to 


know  the  mind  of  the  sitting  Member  on 
so  important  a  matter,  selected  another  can- 
didate. Nay,  so  astute,  far-seeing,  and 
well-informed  a  personage  as  DON  JOSE, 
wrote  a  letter  wishing  the  new  candidate 
success! 

The  Liberals  selected  their  man ;  the 
fight  in  full  fling,  when  it  occurs  to  the 
SAGE  OP  QUEEN  ANNE'S  GATE  to  ask  HICKS- 
BEACH  if  ROBERT  WARD  really  had  applied 
for  the  Chiltern  Hundreds.  No,  said 
HICKS-BEACH.  It's  all  those  newspapers. 
"  One  more  of  the  numerous  instances  in 
which  a  newspaper  report  is  incorrect." 

The  SAGE'S  mind  is  as  childlike  as  his 
manner  is  bland.  It  was  startling  to  hear 
on  this  unimpeachable  authority  that  whole 


A  SUGGESTED  QUESTION  FOR  MB.  C-OH-LL. 

"  May  I  ask  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer 
whether  he  has  received  any  application  from 
Unionist  Members  expressing  their  desire  to  vacate 
their  seats  in  order  to  contest  Crewe?  " 

business  rested  upon  newspaper  invention. 
If  HICKS-BEACH  said  it  was  so,  so  it  must  be. 
But  how  about  DON  JOSE'S  letter?  His 
knowledge  is  anterior  to  newspapers.  He 
could  not  possibly  evolve  out  of  his  inner 
consciousness  the  conviction  that  a  critical 
election  for  a  seat  held  by  a  Government 
supporter  was  pending  owing  to  resigna- 
tion of  sitting  Member.  How  about  the 
COLONIAL  SECRETARY'S  letter  recommend- 
ing a  candidate  for  a  seat  that  was  not 
vacant?  The  SAGE  put  the  question  with 
look  of  a|most  infantile  embarrassment 
clouding  his  ingenuous  countenance. 

"  I  always,"  said  DON  JOSE,  severely  re- 
garding the  innocent  intruder,  "  reply  to 
letters  addressed  to  me  in  suitable  terms." 

The  SAGE  sank  back  slowly  upon  his  seat, 
staring  into  space  with  vacant  eyes.  There 
aro  some  things  beyond  the  comprehension 
of  average  man.  He  feebly  felt  this  Crewe 
conundrum  is  one  of  them. 

Business  done. — Another  Count  Out. 

Thursday.  —  Whilst  HICKS-BEACH  pic- 
tured the  marvellous  growth  of  the  British 


Empire  within  the  limits  of  the  QUEEN'S 
reign,  the  Right  Hon.  JEREMIAH  LOWTHER 
was  a  sight  to  see.  Such  a  miracle  as 
CHANCELLOR  OF  EXCHEQUER  dilated  upon 
finds  no  parallel  since  the  world  began. 
The  expenditure  has  more  than  doubled ; 
but  the  revenue  has  forged  ahead  with 
even  greater  briskness.  This  means  more 
taxation  in  the  bulk,  but  so  widespread  has 
been  prosperity,  upwards  and  downwards, 
that  the  burden  is  borne  in  individual  cases 
much  more  easily  than  when,  at  the  time 
the  QUEEN  came  to  the  Throne,  it  was 
half  as  heavy  in  aggregate  bulk.  This  not 
only  in  spite  of,  actually  by  reason  of,  that 
Free  Trade  over  which  JEREMIAH  makes 
Lamentation. 

This  would  have  been  hard  to  bear  from 
SQUIRE  OF  MALWOOD,  brought  up  from 
arly  youth  in  quagmire  paths.  But  from 
HICKS-BEACH,  in  private  life  a  Tory  squire, 
in  public  position  CHANCELLOR  OF  EXCHE- 
QUER in  Conservative  Government !  It  was 
too  much.  Unwonted  wrinkles  marked 
JEREMIAH'S  mild  and  massive  brow.  An 
ashen  grey  tinged  his  sometime  ruddy 
cheek.  Once  he  pulled  himself  together, 
and  feebly  smiled.  It  was  when  HICKS- 
BEAC.H  incidentally  expressed  the  wish  that 
HOWARD  VINCENT  had  flourished  in  the 
year  preceding  the  QUEEN'S  reign.  JERE- 
MIAH, who  is  quick  at  figures,  knocked  off 
a  sum  which  demonstrated  that  in  such 
case,  the  military  and  civil  arms  of  the 
State,  the  public  platform,  and  the  Parlia- 
mentary forum,  would  to-day  lack  the 
counsel  and  the  company  of  the  warrior 
political  economist.  The  House,  seeing  the 
point  HICKS-BEACH  slyly  made,  hilariously 
cheered.  JEREMIAH  sadly  smiled,  and  as 
the  CHANCELLOR  proceeded  with  his  here- 
tical dogmas,  he  relapsed  into  attitude  of 
utter  woe. 

"  One  of  the  stalest  leaflets  of  the  Cob- 
den  Club,"  he  described  the  speech,  when 
forcing  himself  to  stand  up  to  remonstrate 
against  its  delivery.  But  shocks  like  this 
are  not  easily  got  over.  Early  in  the  sit- 
ting JEREMIAH  withdrew  from  public  view, 
to  nourish  in  secret  this  fresh  stab  dealt  by 
the  hand  of  a  friend. 

Business  done. — Budget  brought  in. 

Friday. — Lawyers  came  to  the  front  to- 
night in  Committee  of  Supply.  On  vote 
for  Land  Registry  Office,  showed  strong 
desire  to  discuss  Land  Transfer  Bill,  at  pre- 
sent in  the  Lords.  Chairman  LOWTHER 
sharply  pulled  them  up.  Out  of  order  to 
discuss  the  measure  on  vote  in  Committee 
of  Supply.  The  third  offender  in  this  di- 
rection being  shut  up,  it  seemed  that  vote 
might  forthwith  be  passed,  when  HOPKIN- 
SON,  Q.C.,  strolled  in. 

Charming  fellow  H.  A  pleasing  presence, 
a  low,  clear  voice,  an  admirable  speaker. 
Looking  at  paper,  finding  Land  Registry 
Office  under  discussion,  thought  he  would 
say  a  few  words.  Rising  diffidently,  cross- 
ing one  leg  over  the  other,  smiling  sweetly 
round  the  expectant  Committee,  he  began, 
"  I  think,  Mr.  LOWTHER,  this  is  a  singu- 
larly convenient  time  to  say  a  few  words 
about  the  Land  Transfer  Bill— 

"Order!  order!"  roared  the  Chairman. 

Smile  faded  from  HOPKINSON'S  face  :  his 
twined  legs  gave  way  at  the  knees ;  drop- 
ping into  his  seat,  he  had  explained  to  him 
how.  unconsciously,  he  had  offended. 

"  I  think."  SARK  whispered  in  his  ear, 
"  this  would  be  a  singularly  convenient 
time  for  you  to  go  home  before  you  get 
into  further  trouble."  A  hint  HOPKINSON, 
Q.C.,  made  haste  to  accept. 

Business  done. — In  Committee  of  Supply. 
Few  speeches,  many  votes. 


MAY  15,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


229 


A  CASE  OF  GREAT  INTEREST  AT  SOUTH  KENSINCTON  MUSEUM, 

STUDY  FROM  LIFE. 


RETRENCHMENT ! 

"  IT  is  obvious,"  remarks  a  daily  paper,  "  that  the  enormous 
expense  incurred  this  year  by  the  fashionable  world  in  connec- 
tion with  the  Jubilee  Festivities,  will  subsequently  entail  for 
many  a  rigid  and  unpleasant  economy."  Hence  we  may  look 
for  the  appearance  of  such  paragraphs  as  the  following  in  next 
year's  Society  journals:  — 

The  Duke  and  Duchess  of  PEPPERCORN  gave  a  select  dinner- 
party on  Monday  last  at  their  new  London  house^  No.  2,  Slum 
Alley,  Whiteohapel.  Their  garrets  are  furnished  with  the  utmost 
eleganco,  and  an  organ-grinder  had  been  specially  engaged  to 
play  to  the  guests  during  dinner.  The  menu  of  course  was  simple, 
but  I  hear  that  her  Grace's  chef  de  cuisine  is  unequalled  at  cooking 
tripe  and  onions,  while  the  PEPPERCORN  cellars  are  famous 
amongst  epicures  as  containing  some  of  the  best  ginger-beer  in 
London. 

A  highly  fashionable  wedding  took  place  at  St.  Sepulchre's  on 
Wednesday,  when  Sir  ALGERNON  FITZOLARENCB  was  happily  united 
t<>  Miss  KRMYXTRVDK  PLANTAGENET.  Fortunately  the  weather 
was  all  that  could  lie  desired,  as,  in  accordance  with  the  present 
fashion,  the  entire  wedding-party  walked  to  and  from  the  church, 
with  the  exception  of  the  bride's  father,  who,  owing  to  a  recent 
attack  of  gout,  had  to  be  accommodated  with  a  wheelbarrow. 
The  bridal  dress  was  simply  but  tastefully  made,  being  composed 
entirely  of  white  enlico,  and  the  bouquet  of  daisies  and  butter- 
cnps  which  the  bride  carried  was  the  cause  of  general  admiration. 
The  wedding  presents  were  numerous  and  (comparatively)  costly, 
including  a  pewter  pint-pot,  an  electro-plated  Jew's  harp,  and 
several  postal  orders  for  eighteenpence  each.  In  the  afternoon 
the  happy  pair  travelled  by  penny  steamer  to  Rosherville,  where 
the  honeymoon  will  be  spent. 

Owing  to  the  genial  spring  the  sporting  prospects  for  this  season  , 
are   exceptionally   brignt.     The    followers    or    the     Quorn    and] 
Pytchley  have  enjoyed  some  splendid  rat-hunting  lately.     The 
Duke   of  HtiRLiNOHAM  has  rented   some  well-preserved  potato- 
plots  near  Hammersmith,   on  which  large  bags  are  sure  to  be 
made,  as  the  sparrows  are  very  plentiful.     While  on  sporting 


topics,  it  may  be  mentioned  that  that  well-known  angler,  Mr. 
MAVKI.Y,  landed  fifteen  gudgeon  lately  in  the  course  of  two  days' 
ti>liing  on  the  Regent's  Park  Canal. 

Since  golf  and  lawn-tennis  have  been  abandoned,  on  account 
of  the  ruinous  expense  which  they  involve,  the  good  old  Ki 
game  of  skittles  has  become  exceedingly  popular  with  the  fashion- 
able world.  It  is  said  that  several  members  of  the  Peerage  will 
be  among  the  competitors  on  Saturday  afternoon,  when  the 
Seven  Dials  Club  is  to  hold  its  championship  meeting. 

Owing  to  the  strict  economy  which  has  to  be  practised  • 
year,  the  custom  of  going  abroad  for  the  holidays  will  be  wholly 
discontinued ;  indeed,  several  of  the  smartest  people  are  con- 
tenting themselves  with  a  cheap  Saturday-to-Monday  excursion 
to  Sonthond.  We  notice  that  our  contemporary,  the  Daily 
Tellewag,  ever  to  the  fore  with  philanthropic  schemes,  has  started 
a  Summer  Treat  Fund  for  children  of  the  impoverished  aris- 
tocracy. Owing  to  this  well-timed  movement,  a  large  number 
of  those  who  will  one  day  be  the  leaders  of  Society  are  sent 
down,  each  Saturday  to  the  Crystal  Palace,  where  they  spend  a 
thoroughly  happy  day.  Before  returning  home  each  is  pre- 
sented with  a  bun,  a  new  sixpence,  and  a  china  mug,  on  which 
the  arms  of  his  or  her  family  are  emblazoned. 

A  very  successful  performance  of  that  historical  drama.  Punch 
and  Judy,  was  given  by  an  itinerant  showman  in  Belgrave 
Square  the  other  evening,  which  was  witnessed  by  a  Urge  and 
aristocratic  audience.  Needless  to  say,  all  the  theatres  are  now 
closed,  as  no  one  could  afford  to  pay  even  half-a-crown  for  a 
stall  in  these  days.  From  the  same  cause,  great  destitution 
exists  amongst  musicians  and  authors.  Dr.  RICHTBR  is  compelled 
to  utilise  some  of  his  orchestra  as  a  street-band,  while  Mr. 
LEONARD  BORWICK  may  have  been  seen  of  late  playing  a  piano- 
organ.  And  since  no  one  is  able  to  afford  a  library  subscription, 
Mr.  ANTHONY  HOPE  and  Dr.  CONAN  DOYLE  now  find  employment 
m  the  writing  of  penny  novelettes. 

I  have  only  room  to  add,  that  it  is  quite  the  correct  thing  to 
be  dressed  as  simply  as  possible  this  season.  A  very  charming 
costume  was  worn  by  a  lady  of  title  at  a  recent  party.  The 
body  was  made  of  household  flannel,  the  skirt  of  sacking,  and  the 
whole  was  trimmed  with  bows  of  pink  tape.  For  second-hand  hats 
you  cannot  do  better  than  go  to  Mr.  ABRAHAM'S  pawn-shop  ;  he 
numbers  among  his  clientele  most  of  the  fashionable  people  in 
town,  and  his  prices  are  most  moderate — a  very  important  fact 
when,  in  consequence  of  last  year's  Jubilee,  we  have  to  practise 
"  a  rigid  and  unpleasant  economy  I  " 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

IN  the  direction  of  imposing  on  the  human  mind  the  sensation 
known  as  making  your  flesh  creep,  the  Fat  Boy  in  Pickwick  isn't 
in  it  with  The  Oxford  Dictionary.  The  phrase  is  here  applied 
in  its  sense  of  concentrated  marvel.  Never  since  the  writing  of 
books  began  was  there  such  a  monumental  undertaking  as  this 
dictionary,  edited  by  Mr.  JOSEPH  WBIOHT,  published  by 
HBNBY  FROWDB.  For  close  upon  a  quarter  of  a  century  a  multi- 
tude of  people  in  all  parts  of  the  United  Kingdom  hare  been 
engaged  in  collecting  materials  for  it.  It  is  like  a  hire  of  bees ; 
perhaps  more  exactly  like  the  coral  insects  which,  in  the  course  of 
time,  uplift  rocks  and  islands  out  of  the  sea.  ''The  workshop," 
as  it  ii  modestly  called,  has  now  completed  its  appointed  task  as 
far  as  the  letter  D,  has  even  made  some  progress  with  the  letter 
F.  As  a  rule  one  does  not  take  up  a  dictionary  for  ordinary 
reading.  An  exception  will  certainly  be  found  in  the  case  of 
The  Oxford  Dictionary.  It  is  an  inexhaustible  mine  of  interest- 
ing information,  garnered  from  all  known  writers  and  multitudes 
of  unknown.  For  busy  people  the  book  may  indeed  be  found 
fatally  fascinating.  My  Baronite,  setting  forth  to  look  out  the 
bearings  of  a  particular  word,  turning  over  page  after  page, 
came  upon  so  many  attractive  bits  that  he  found,  to  his  amaze- 
ment, an  hour  had  sped. 

A  Farrago  nf  Folly,  by  GBOROB  GAMBLE  (FiSHKB  UNWIN),  is 
unflinchingly  described  in  its  second  title  as  "  Some  Vagaries  and 
Verbosities  of  Two  Vulgarians."  Certain  critics  will  probably 
find  vulgarity  the  note  ofthe  book.  But  that  is  a  tribute  to  its 
life-like  touch.  Ton  cannot  expect  the  repose  of  good  manner  in 
two  young  people  who  make  chance  acquaintance  in  a  picture 
gallery  .where  the  lady  attempts  to  steal  the  gentleman's  book.  This 
pleasantry  so  much  endears  her  to  him  that,  after  several  meet- 
ings and  partings,  they  secretly  depart  for  Paris,  and  live  there 
for  a  few  days  as  brother  and  sister.  The  book  is  decidedly 
original,  and  would  rank  much  higher  if  it  were  less  determinedly 
funny.  My  Baronite  believes  that  even  Vulgarians  do  not  in 
private  conversation  persistently  talk  with  music-hall  smartness. 
It  is  presumably  a  first  effort,  and  Mr.  GAMBLE  will  do  better 
when  he  plays  more  quietly.  The  account  of  a  night  bicycle 
journey  is  appropriately  full  of  go.  THIS  BARON  DB  B.-\\  . 


vou  cxii, 


230 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  15,  1897. 


SYMPATHY. 

'•  So  LONDON  AT  HER  SISTKR'S  SIDE  WOULD  STAND, 
AND  BIT  THE  KILENT  PRESSURE  OF  A  HAND 
PROVE  MOURNING  PARIS  DOTH  NOT  STAND  ALONE 
IN  GRIEF,  BUT  THAT  HER  SORROW  IS  OUR  OWN  !  " 

[On  the  afternoon  of  Tuesday,  May  4,  the  Charity  Bazaar,  in  the  Uue  Jean  Goujon,  was  burnt  down  in  a  few  minutes.     The  City  of  London  was 
represented  by  its  Chief  Magistrate  at  the  funeral  ot  the  victims  of  the  terrible  misadventure.] 


MAT  15,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


231 


HER    "COURT"    DRESS. 


Fair  Defendant  in  Cause  Cslibrc  (readi-ag  report  of  yesterday's  prucfediiigt).   "  THE  IDIOTS  !    THKKK  '«  NO  TRUSTING  ONE'S  KWVTATION 
WITH  THEXK  NEWSPAPERS.     TIIKY  DESCRIBE  MY  HELIOTROPE  POPLIN  AB  PUCE  ALPACA  WITH  A  Mr.si.iN  FBILL!" 


SYMPATHY. 

"  Sunl  lui-hrvnur  rrnmi,  et  mentem  iiiurtnliti 
tangunt." — VIRGIL. 

WHEN-  woes  are  greatest,  words  are  ever 

weak 
The   grief-choked   passion   of  the   soul  to 

speak. 
And  what  avail  they  here?     Pressure  of 

hand, 

The  silent  look  which  love  can  understand. 
Perchance  are  best,  though  all  unhelpful 

they 

The  pain  to  lessen  or  the  tear  to  stay. 
Beautiful  Paris,  stricken  with  mad  grief  I 
The  rolling  hours  alone  can  lend  relief 
To  such  a  shattering  anguish  as  is  this. 
Gay  lips,  fresh  from  the  joy  of  childhood's 

kiss, 

Blackened  to  awful  silence  at  a  stroke ! 
Since  o'er  Pompeii  the  death-deluge  broke 
Scarce  aught   of   swifter  horror  I     Gentle 

hearts, 

Playing  their  beautiful  and  blameless  parts 
As  high-bred  almoners  of  Charity, 
Midst  modish  glitter  and  patrician  glee, 
And  poor  blind  children,   in  wild  tumult 

blent, 

Hurried  to  death  together,  impotent 
In  the  red  clutches  of  relentless  flame ! 
A  piteous  holocaust!     The  noblest  name, 
The    haughtiest   beauty   and   the    gentlest 

grace, 


Glory  of  history  or  pride  of  race, 

Availed   no   more   than   childish   helpless- 
ness 

[n   that   dread   hour   of   torture's   fiercest 
stress, 

When  the  new  Moloch  claimed  his  shud- 
dering prey ; 

And  the  poor  shapeless  heaps  that  scat- 
tered lay 

About   that    fatal   booth— <leath-trap    and 
snare, 

For  whose  black  end  the  burden  who  would 
bear?— 

Brought  anguish  to  the  noblest  homes  in 
France, 

And  half  the  Courts  of  Europe. 

Pity's  glance, 

Which  is  no  gloating  ghoul's,  must  turn 
aside 

From  that  dread  scene  where  Paris,  in  her 
pride 

Of  birth,  and  beauty,  and  benevolence, 

Was  smitten  sore.     A  silent  reverence 

To  sorrow  so  unspeakable  is  due. 

That  scattered  gold  which  the  grave  sol- 
diers drew 

From    forth    that    awful    wreckage,    was 
designed 

To  assuage  miseries  of  poor  human  kind  • 

And  a  less  glorious  death-roll  hath  t»  ,  n 
writ 

In  golden  blazon  by  heraldic  wit. 

Than  that  of  the  great  ladies  and  fair  girls 


Who,   through   fire's   torturing  flame   and 

black  smoke-whirls, 

Passed  to  sweet  womanly  Charity's  reward, 
True  martyrs  of  Humanity  1 

The  sward 
Of  the  gay  city  gleams,  boughs  laugh  with 

leaves, 
But    in    the    budding    Springtime    Paris 

grieves. 

"Yet  tears  to  human  sufferings  are  due," 
Sang  the   austere   Lake   poet,   grave   but 

true, 
Svnt  lachrvnue  rtrum!    How  the  general 

heart 

Echoes  the  Mantuan's  music,  claiming  part 
In  all  great  sorrows,  which  must  genaral 

be 

So  long  as  Man  is  moved  by  Sympathy. 
So    London    at  her    Sister's     side     would 

stand, 

And  by  the  silent  pressure  of  a  hand 
Prove    mourning    Paris    doth    not    stand 

alone 
In  grief,  but  that  her  sorrow  is  our  own  I 


Nicotaniana. 

Mrs.  Gusher.  Smoke!  I  should  think  I 
did.  I  positively  devour  tobacco  from 
morning  till  night  I 

Our  Own  IrreprwiWe  (out  again). 
I  conclude  you  live  on  the  cigar-ate  1 

[A'of  asked  to  have  a  second  cup  of  tea. 


Then 


232 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  15,  1897. 


'7y 

A 


Hairdresser  (with  an  eye  to  business).   "  YOUR  'Am 's  GETTING  VERY 

THIN   ON  THE  TOP,    SlR  !      HALL   COMING   OUT.      EVER   TRY    ANYTHING 
POR  IT?" 

Customer.  "YES.     I  TRIED  TOUR  TONIC  LOTION,  AND  IT  MADE  IT 
WORSE  !  " 


INTEBVIEWS  WITH  INANIMATE  OBJECTS. 

AN  ANCIENT  "ORDINARY"  BICYCLE. 

IT  tried  to  smile  when  it  saw  me — I  feel  certain  of  that,  and 
then  it  looked  as  smart  and  juvenile  as  its  rustiness  would  allow. 
'  Do  you  consider  yourself  as  finally  superseded  ?  " 

"  By  no  means.  It  is  true  that  the  tide  of  fashion  now  runs 
in  favour  of  the  so-called  'safety,'  but,  in  the  long  run,  com- 
mon sense  will  prevail,  and  I  shall  be  reinstated  in  the  affections 
of  the  public." 

"  Yet  the  '  safety '  is  a  faster  machine,  is  it  not?  " 

"In  one  sense,  no  doubt,  for  it  is  vulgar  and  decidedly  low. 
My  wheelmen  were  exalted  in  position,  and  commanded  an  ex- 
tensive view." 

"  Are  not  pneumatic  tyres  an  improvement  ?  " 

"  Were  you  ever  punctured  ?  Besides,  they  are  a  mark  of  the 
effeminacy  of  the  age.  No  such  thing  was  thought  of  in 
my  time." 

"So  you  think  that  cyclists  have  degenerated?" 

"  I  am  sure  of  it.  The  wide  spread  of  cycling  among  nervous 
and  elderly  people  is  having  a  most  disastrous  effect.  Nothing 
is  now  considered  but  comfort.  It  my  early  days  people  treated 
a  somersault  over  a  hedge  as  a  matter  of  course." 

"  What  is  your  view  of  horses  ?  " 

"  They  are  necessary  evils,  as  bicycles  cannot  be  expected  to 
draw  carts.  Still,  there  should  be  legislation  to  keep  all  horses 
under  proper  control.  I  would  have  them  go  at  a  walking  pace, 
preceded  by  a  man  with  a  red  flag." 

"  What  about  pedestrians  ?  " 

"  I  confess  that  pedestrians  are  a  nuisance.  They  should  never 
have  been  allowed  to  monopolise  the  pavements  and  footpaths. 
I  fear  the  mischief  is  done  in  that  direction,  but  there  is  no 
reason  why  they  should  act  as  if  the  public  highway  belonged  to 
them.  Stringent  regulations  would  diminish  the  evil.  Every 
pedestrian  should  be  compelled  to  take  out  a  license,  and  also  to 
carry  a  handbell  and  ring  it  when  crossing  a  road.  After  dark 
he  should  carry  a  lantern." 

"  Do  you  approve  of  motor-cars  ?  " 

"They  are   a  fad  which  encourages  idleness,   and   should   be 


heavily  taxed.  Happily  they  show  no  signs  of  coming  into 
vogue." 

"  You  do  not  consider  yourself  a  pessimist  ?  " 

"  No,  the  worst  is  past,  and  there  are  signs  of  a  more  healthy 
public  opinion.  In  ten  years'  time  the  '  ordinary '  will  have  com- 
pletely ousted  the  '  safety '  bicycle,  while  there  will  be  a  sensible 
diminution  of  horses  and  pedestrians." 

The  poor  old  machine  spoke  with  such  evident  sincerity  of 
belief  that  I  had  not  the  heart  to  continue.  "  After  all,"  I 
thought,  as  I  bowed  myself  out  of  its  presence,  "  you  are  not 
the  only  one  who  is  living  in  a  fool's  paradise ! " 

FOR  AND  AGAINST  THE  CHIMNEY-POT  HAT. 

(Vide  Recent  Correspondence  in  the  "Times.") 

IT  would  be  advisable,  or  inadvisable,  as  the  case  may  be,  to 
abolish  It  in  the  Jubilee  Year. 

Because  all  the  scarecrows  in  the  country  are  already  fitted. 

Because  It  is  the  hall-mark  of  human  dignity,  and,  combined 
with  a  smile,  is  sufficient  by  itself,  without  any  other  costume, 
to  stamp  the  wearer  as  one  of  Nature's  Noblemen,  whether  he 
be  a  Missing  Link  or  a  King  of  the  Cannibal  Islands. 

Because  It  is  indispensable,  as  part  of/  the  stock-in-trade  of 
conjurers,  for  the  production  of  live  rabbits,  pots  of  flowers, 
interminable  knotted  handkerchiefs,  and  other  useful  and  neces- 
sary articles. 

Because  no  Harrow  boy  is  happy  till  he  gets  It. 

Because  It  is  a  decided  protection  in  a  street-fight,  or  when 
you  fall  out  hunting  or  coming  home  late  from  the  Club. 

Because  It  only  needs  to  be  carefully  sat  on  to  make  an  ex- 
cellent and  noiseless  substitute  for  the  concertina. 

Because  no  self-respecting  Guy,  Bridegroom,  or  'Bus-driver, 
is  ever  seen  without  one. 

Because  It  is  a  very  effective  counterpart  of  the  Matinee  hat 
at  Lord's,  and  similar  gatherings. 

Because,  to  be  at  all  in  the  fashion,  and  to  look  decently 
dressed,  you  require  a  fresh  one  every  day.  This  is  good  for 
the  trade. 

Because  It  stimulates  the  manufacture  of  umbrellas,  eye- 
glasses, hansom  cabs,  frock-coats,  hair-restorers,  and  forcible 
language. 

Because  no  one  has  yet  ventured  to  wear  It  on  the  all-preva- 
lent bicycle. 

Because  no  statue  has  ever  had  the  face  to  sport  It,  with  very 
few  deplorable  exceptions. 

Because  It  is  really  the  most  becoming  head-gear  hitherto 
devised. 

Because  It  is  really  the  most  unbecoming  head-gear  hitherto 
devised. 

Because,  after  a  hundred  years,  it  is  time  we  had  a  change. 

Because,  when  a  thing  has  been  running  for  a  century,  it  is 
a  pity  to  abolish  it. 

Because,  if  It  is  abolished,  the  custom  of  raising  It  to  ladies 
will  perish  as  well,  and  there  will  follow  the  Extinction  of 
Manners  for  Men,  the  Decadence  of  Church  Parade,  the  General 
Cutting  of  Acquaintances,  the  re-introduction  of  Thumb-biting, 
Nose-pulling,  Duelling,  and  Civil  War,  the  disappearance  of  Great 
Britain  as  a  first-class  Power,  the  establishment  of  a  Reign  of 
Terror,  and  much  inconvenience. 

Because  I  have  recently  purchased  an  Extra  Special  Loyal  and 
Up-to-Date  Jubilee  Tile,  which  I  hope  to  wave,  throw  up,  and 
generally  smash  and  sacrifice  on  the  Great  Occasion. 

But  that  is  not  another  story. 


THE  DIAMOND  JUBILEE. 

A  SUGGESTION. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  am  sick  of  this  everlasting  pother  about 
the  Diamond  Jubilee.  Didn't  we  have  it  all  ten  years  ago  ? 
Is  there  no  originality  left  in  the  world  ?  For  Heaven's  sake  let 
us  have  a  little  novelty. 

Is  it  not  preposterous  that  at  this  time  of  day  we  should  be 
organising  another  mediaeval  pageant  to  parade  the  streets  of 
London?  Let  us  have  something  fresh,  something  progressive, 
something  democratic — something  typical  of  the  spirit  of  the 
age.  What  are  your  gilded  coaches,  your  cream-coloured  steeds. 
your  escorts  of  princes  ?  P^elics  of  barbarism  !  No,  Sir  ;  instead 
af  this  tinsel  snow,  let  us  have  something  simple,  business-like, 
"  neat,  not  gaudy."  Let  the  Procession  go  to  St.  Paul's  on 
bicycles.  Lord  SALISBURY  and  Mr.  GLADSTONE  on  a  tandem, 
chanze  places  alternately. 

Hoping  that  you  will  see  your  way  to  give  publicity  to  my 
suggestion,  I  am,  dear  Mr.  Punch,  Yours,  &c., 

PNEUMATIC. 


MAY   15,   1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


233 


MO  HER  EUROPA'S  WORLD-RENOWNED  "CONCERT"  CUR  TIVE. 

A  M  u:vEi.i.ors  I'.VSACEA  ! 
K.XTKAOKDINAKY    UKIOVKKY  ! 


Read  the  Testimutiinls  from  the  Faculty. 

Doerpn  NICHOLAS  writes:  — "  I  hav  tri'-il  the  'Concert  Cu- 
rativi-,'  and  found  it  oflicarious  whuro  all  other  treatment  had 
failed  tu  achieve  the  result  I  was  anxious  to  obtain.  It  does  not 
ml  tun  vivlrntly  ttjiun  tin-  ti/ntfm,  but,  nftor  allowing  the  symptoms 
to  run  thrir  natural  courso,  protects  the  sufferer  from  an  vth>nri*r 

illl  Ilitilllll'    I'll/Ill  JIH'.' 

l)octor  WIUIKI.M  writes: — "  1  consider  this  an  admirable  pre- 
paration, mid,  in  t/n  iiro/>tr  lin /nit,  absolutely  infallible.  I  take 
care  to  rm>miiiriul  it  atriniijly  in  consultation  with  all  my  fellow- 
practitioners." 

1'i.rtor  KHAMSIN  K.  FAUKE  writes: — " I  entirely  endorse  the 
opinion  of  my  esteemed  colleague,  Dr.  NICHOLAS.  A  most 
charming  and  elegant  tonic — with  no  disagreeable  after-effects." 

I lector  FKANCIS  JOSEPH  writes : — "  It  is  compounded  of  several 
powerful  and  dangerous  ingredients,  but  to  ingeniously  combined 
as  to  neutralise  one  another  in  the  happiest  manner." 

Doctor  HUMBERT  writes  : — "  Very  pleasant  to  take,  as  it  docs 
not  irritate  the  patient,  but  acts  at  an  emollient." 

Doctor  SAIJSBUXY  writes: — "I  confess  I  have  never  been  a 
in  ni  believer  in  the  efficacy  of  patent  medicines  in  general,  but  in 
the  present  instance  I  feel  bound  to  add  my  testimony  to  the  almost 
unanimous  verdict  of  my  professional  brethren. 

"After  having,  not  without  hesitation,  given  my  consent  to 
the  employment  of  your  remedy  in  a  case  which  had  resisted  all 
previous  treatments,  my  belief  is — I  hope  I  do  not  speak  too  soon 
— that  it  has  succeeded  in  preventing  all  further  effusion  of  blood, 
and  Iwiilisiiii/  the  danger. 

' '  Whatever  future  changes  may  take  place,  I  shall  still  have  the 
satisfaction  of  believing  that  they  will  be  under  the  sanction  and 
augury  of  the  leading  European  specialists,  and  that  all  danger  of 

-  complications  has  been  happily  averted. 

"  If  that  is  the  result — I  trust  1  am  not  premature — I  cannot 
help  thinking  that  it  will  be  a  great  itchitvemeiit." 

Now  READ  WHAT  TUB  PATIENT  HIMSKI.K  SAYS  ! 

"A  SICK  MAN"  writes: — -"I  was  almost  at  my  last  gasp;  I 
was  constantly  haunted  by  a  feeling  as  if  I  should  FLY  ALL  TO 
PIECES,  and  the  dread  that  I  should  NOT  LAST  MUCH 
LONGER.  All  my  European  friends  declared  that  I  was  NOT 
FIT  TO  GO  ABOUT.  I  seemed  to  have  lost  all  control  over  my 

•  nits,  and  was  A  MASS  OF  CORRUPTION. 

' '  Several  acquaintances  of  mine  in  Armenia  told  me  that  I 
LOOKED  LIKE  DEATH.  None  of  the  physicians  who  under- 
took to  cure  me  <lid  me  any  good.  I  GOT  WORSE  EVERY 
DAY,  and  could  attend  to  nothing — until  at  last  I  was  strongly 
i  .ended  to  try  MOTHER  EUROPA'S  WORLD -RE- 
NOWNED 'CONCERT'  CURATIVE. 

"I  resisted  for  some  time,  but,  discovering  it  was  not  un- 
pleasant, I  took  it  regularly  during  a  prolonged  residence  in  Crete, 
and  gradually  found  myself  beginning  to  return  to  active  life  and 
my  ordinary  occupations. 

'•  •  A  tier  ha\  ing  been  given  up  as  A  DOOMED  MAN  by  Dr. 
SALISBURY  and  all  the  LEADING  CONTINENTAL  AUTHO- 
RITIES, I  am  rapidly  getting  STRONGER  DAY  BY  DAY, 
ha\e  thrown  away  my  crutches,  and  am  now  WALKING  OVER 
GREECE  without  the  slightest  difficulty  or  inconvenience  of  any 
kind. 

"This  happy  result  I  attribute  entirely  to  your  INVALU- 
ABLE panacea,  which  I  hope  to  have  ALWAYS  BY  MY  SIDE 
in  future,  as  it  has  certainly  PUT  ME  ON  MY  LEGS. 

"  You  are  at  liberty  to  make  any  use  you  like  of  this." 
— [AovT.] 

"  We   Three." 

SAYS  the  Squire  to  the  Parson,  "Some  people  expected 

A  lot  from  the  Surplus  of  MICHAEL  HICKS-BEECH, 
But  the  tax-payers  now  look  extremely  dejected. 

Let  'a  hope  that  a  leason  his  Budget  will  teach." 
Said  Parson  to  Squire,  "  Those  bad  Kads  have  derided 

The  Church  and  the  Hall.     How  the  infidel  host 
Will  bowl  when  they  see  that  the  spoils  are  divided 

Twist  you,  and  me,  and  the  (Penny)  Post!" 


Photographer  (to  Sitter).    "I  SAW  YOU  AT  CHURCH  LAST  SUKDAY, 
Miss  SKEATE."  Sitter.  "OH,  DID  YOU?" 

Photographer.  "Via;  AND  ALSO  YOUR  FRIEND  Miss  BROWN.    (!F 

YOU   COULD   RAISE   YOUR    CHIN   A   TKIFI.E.      THANKS.)      AND  WHAT  AN 
ATROCIOUS-LOOKING   HAT  SHE   HAD  ON."      (After  O  pause.)      "THERE, 

Miss  SKEATE.  IT  is  OVER,  AND  I  THINK  WE  HAVE  CAUGHT  A  VEICY 

PLEASANT  EXPRESSION." 


THE  DARING  M.P.'S  PHRASE-BOOK. 
(Tube  translated  into  Modern  Greek  for  Use  on  Future  Occasions.) 

I  CAN  assure  you  it  is  a  mistake.  I  only  wanted  to  see  how 
they  let  off  guns. 

Really,  it  was  very  natural  curiosity.  I  don't  mind  telling  you 
that  I  have  never  before  seen  a  real  battle. 

Very  pleased  'with  it  on  the  whole,  but  don't  think  it  is  quite 
up  to  the  standard  of  the  Military  Tournament  at  the  Agri- 
cultural Hall. 

You  need  not  be  so  curt.  I  only  wanted  to  make  myself 
conversationally  agreeable. 

If  you  have  no  objection,  instead  of  carrying  me  as  a  prisoner 
to  Athens,  I  wish  you  would  kindly  take  me  as  an  excursionist 
to  Margate. 

Do  yon  know,  I  really  don't  require  to  be  put  in  irons. 

As  I  have  not  the  slightest  intention  of  attempting  to  escape — 
too  pleased  to  meet  you — why  suggest  incarceration  in  the 
black  hole  ? 

I  do  not  wish  to  threaten,  but  if  there  is  any  suggestion  of 
trying  me  by  court  martial,  I  am  really  capable  of  giving  someone 
quite  a  hard  knock. 

Why  am  I  to  keep  silence  ? 

Why,  I  was  doing  nothing — only  seeing  how  to  manage  a 
cavalry  charge. 

No  right  to  cruise  about  within  the  sphere  of  action!  Why 
not  ?  I  wasn't  bombarding  anyone. 

Well,  I  give  you  fair  warning,  that  if  I  am  put  to  any  more 
inconvenience  I  will  appeal  to  my  Government.  And  if  that 
won't  do — mind,  I  mean  it! — I  will  write  to  the  Times! 


QUAINT  ANALOGY. — Mr.  BOTTOMLBY  describes  himself  as  a  Radi- 
cal, and  all  the  while  he  is  a  (HANSARD)  Unionist.  At  the  same 
time  he  is  undoubtedly  Liberal.  Like  a-  (successful  jockey,  he 
appears  to  have  a  good  many  pounds  in  hand. 


234 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAT  15,  1897. 


AFTER    MANY    YEARS!; 

Country  Parson  (to  distinguished  Peer,  who  has  been  making  THE  Speech  of  the  evening).  ' ' 
>  'YE  DO,  MT  LORD  1    I  SEE  YOU  DON'T  QUITE  REMEMBER  ME." 
Distinguished  Peer.  "WELL — BE — NOT  ALTOGETHER." 

C.  P.  "WE  WERE  MEMBERS  OF  THE  SAME  CLUB  AT  OXFORD." 

D.  P.  (with  awakening  interest).  ' '  OH — AH  !    LET  ME  SEE — WHICH  CLUB  WAS  THAT  ? " 
C.  P.  " THE— ER—  TOILET  CLUB,  YOU  KNOW!" 


How 


HEARTFELT  LOYALTY. 

(As per  Advertisements  and  Circulars.) 

IN  honour  of  HER  MAJESTY'S  Diamond 
Jubilee,  Messrs.  WINKELSTEIN  AND  KOCKELS- 
BORF,  of  Puffier  Row,  W.,  beg  to  announce 
that  they  have  purchased  1,000,000  cases  of 
Tartaric  Acid  Toothpowder,  which  they 
can  offer  to  the  public  at  9Jd.  a  box  in- 
stead of  the  usual  price  of  Is.  IJd.  All  who 
wish  for  white  teeth  wherewith  to  eat  Com- 
memoration viands  should  apply  at  once. 
N.B. — This  offer  can  only  be  made  during 
the  present  glorious  year. 


I  yield  to  none  of  HER  MAJESTY'S  subjects 
in  loyalty.  In  proof  of  which  I  am,  in 
order  practically  to  show  the  same,  pre- 
pared to  supply  my  Everlasting  Jubilee 
Boot  Polish  at  the  usual  price,  viz.,  8d.  per 
flagon,  despite  the  immense  strain  which 
has  been  put  upon  my  factories  by  the 
presence  of  so  many  opulent  visitors  in 
London.  None  genuine  without  a  wrapper 
bearing  the  signature  of  the  inventor, 
ADOLPHUS  TozER,The  Shineries,  Southwark. 

"  Vivat  Victoria  Begina  et  Imperatrix  !  " 
Such  is  the  loudspoken  and  heartfelt  shout 
of  that  mighty  Empire  upon  which  the  sun, 
by  the  inimitable  laws  of  Creation,  is  never 


permitted  to  set  foot.  GRABBLETIN  AND 
MAINCHANCE  re-echo  the  Imperial  cry,  and 
would  draw  attention  to  their  desire  to  lay 
their  humble  contribution  on  the  steps  of 
the  Throne  in  the  shape  of  their  Matchless 
Packet  of  Commemoration  Jewellery,  con- 
taming  fancy  brooch,  rich  bangles  (4),  solid 
Albert  chain  with  exquisite  pig  charm,  and 
pair  of  globe  earrings.  Every  article  war- 
ranted to  be  made  of  Patagpnian  gold,  and 
thickly  studded  with  Jubilee  Diamonds. 
Each  packet  sacrificed  at  2s.  4<J.,  post  free. 
1004,  Brummagem  Street.  B.C. 

"  Long  to  reign  over  us  I "  "Amen !  "  says 
SAMUEL  SCHIRMWASSEH.  and  out  of  respect- 
ful devotion  to  HER  MAJESTY  he  has  re- 
solved to  supply  all  applicants  before 
QUEEN'B  Day  with  a  sample  of  his  Pocket 
Umbrella,  for  the  insignificant  sum  of 
eighteenpence.  It  can  be  fitted  on  an 
ordinary  walking-stick,  and  can  also  be 
used  as  a  puggaree  or  handkerchief.  Of  all 
stationers,  and  wholesale  at  1,  Chipmunk 
Avenue,  Whitechapel. 

The  Favourite  Flower  of  the  Queen- 
Empress  is  said  to  be  the  Rose  of  England. 
Loyally  anxious  that  this  fragrant  flower 
should  be  more  widely  known  among  HER 
MAJESTY'S  subjects  during  the  coming 
glorious  fetes,  Messrs.  HOB  AND  RAKE  wish 
it  to  be  known  that  they  are  sending  out 
well-rooted  bush  specimens  at  6d.  apiece. 
The  Guelph  Nurseries,  Little  Ganderby, 
Beds. 
(Here  the  waste-paper  basket  cried  "Enough!") 


NOT  A  PUFF  OF  SMOKE. 

[CHANO,  the  Chinese  Ambassador,  declared  that 
he  would  rather  return  to  China  in  disgrace  than 
submit  to  be  fumigated  by  the  quarantine  officials. 
—  Vide  Daily  Paper.] 

AIR— "Chin  Chin,  Citinaman."— The  Gei.i/tu. 

CHAXQ,  CHANG,  Chinaman, 

Welly,  welly  sad ; 
Muchee  hate  fumigate, 

Makee  welly  mad ; 
Allo  smoke  makee  choke, 

Tellee  mans  to  stop ; 
CHANO,  CHANG,  Chinaman, 

Chop,  Chop,  Chop. 


"BONOS  DIES,  SIE  TOBY!" 

TO-DAY,  our  "TonY,  M.P.  for  Barks," 
though  "  not  unaccustomed  to  public 
speaking  " — as  in  the  House  he  has  heard 
enough  of  it  to  last  him  a  life-time — makes 
his  first  appearance  on  any  public  plat- 
form. From  this  elevated  situation  "TOBY, 
M.P.,"  will  address  his  constituents,  who 
belong  to  all  parties,  but  unite  in  electing 
him  as  their  representative,  telling  them 
in  a  lecture  a  great  deal,  if  not  all,  about 
"The  Parliaments  of  the  QUEEN."  What 
TOBY  doesn't  know  on  the  subject  is  not 
worth  knowing,  and  what  he  will  not  tell 
must  be  well  worth  hearing.  However, 
there  is  a  time  to  speak  and  a  time  to  be 
silent,  a  division  of  the  hours  which  will 
be  properly  adjusted  by  that  Eminent  Old 
Parliamentary  Hand,  the  SQUIRE  OF  MAL- 
WOOD,  who  takes  the  chair  on  this  memo- 
rable occasion.  Ex  Luce  Lux,  and  the 
best  of  Good  Lucks  attend  our  "TOBY, 
M.P." 


A  QUESTION  OF  NOMENCLATURE.- — It  is 
obvious  that  in  view  of  the  recent  strained 
relations  between  the  Crown  Prince  of 
GREECE  and  EDHEM  PASHA,  the  name  of 
the  latter  could  be  written  either  Head- 
him  or  (very  nearly)  Had-him. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— MAT  15,  1897. 


"WHO   SAYS   'SICK  MAN'  NOW? 


MAY  15,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


237 


"HONEYMOON    AMENITIES." 

"  LOST  THE  RETURN  TICKETS  t    NONSENSE,  MY  DEAR  BOY  !    I  DISTINCTLY  REMEMBER 

SEEING  YOU  PUT  THEM   IN   YOUR   MONEY  POCKET  THE   DAY   WE  CAME  HERE  !  " 

"You  ooJ    THEN  THAT  SETTLES  IT.    MUST  HAVE  LOST   'KM.    THERE'S  .NOTHINU  jx 
THAT  POCKET  I" 


A  SEASONABLE  SUGGESTION. 

To  the  Editor  of  Punch. 

DEAR  SIR, — Just  now  there  are  so  many 
extra  calls  upon  the  pockets  of  the 
"  smart,"  that  I  am  sure  a  move  in  the 
direction  of  economy  would  be  very  wel- 
come amongst  "the  upper  ten,"  or  say, 
"the  more  select  quarter  million."  For 
instance,  it  is  the  pride  of  some  hostesses 
to  have  a  crowd  at  their  at-home  days.  If 
the  many  social  functions  of  the  present 
memorable  season  should  deprive  them  of 
the  glory  of  a  large  gathering,  they  would 
naturally  feel  annoyed.  Now  cannot  this 
be  remedied?  I  think  so.  \Vhy  not  hire 
a  carriage  and  a  man  who  thoroughly 
understands  his  business  from  a  livery 
stable?  But  it  will  be  objected  that  a 
M'liiolo  staying  outside  a  door  for  hours 
would  look  peculiar.  At  first  it  might  be 
considered  as  suggestive  of  the  crime  de 
la  creme,  but  after  a  while  the  immobility 


of  the  vehicle  would  be  understood,  and 
cover  the  hirer  with  ridicule.  And  here 
my  idea  comes  in. 

All  that  is  wanted  is  as  before,  a 
brougham  and  a  coachman  who  thoroughly 
understands  his  business.  Mark  the  quali- 
fication, "who  thoroughly  understands  his 
business."  Now  the  brougham  drives  up, 
and  the  neighbours  notice  that  the  coach- 
man is  clean  shaven  and  has  mutton-chop 
whiskers.  The  vehicle  drives  away  after 
a  sufficient  pause.  Then  come*  another 
coachman  driving  a  brougham.  He  evi- 
dently belongs  to  an  owner  with  military 
tastes,  for  he  has  a  black  moustache.  He 
retires,  and  is  succeeded  later  on  by  an  ola 
retainer  of  a  coachman,  with  whit«  hair 
and  a  venerable  beard  allowed  to  be  worn, 
no  doubt,  on  account  of  his  many  years  of 
faithful  service.  But  it  will  be  contended 
"  so  many  carriages  will  be  expensive  P ' 
Not  at  all.  There  will  be  only  one  vehicle, 
and  the  coachman  who  thoroughly  knows 
his  business  will  do  the  rest.  The  moment 


the  Jehu  in  out  of  sight,  ho  will  change  In. 
costume  with  the  utmost  rapidity,  ami 
then  return  to  your  house  a  dniii<-i>t 
(outer)  man.  Tlio  effect  might  be  in- 
creased by  supplied  visitors,  wuo  would 
also  change  tutjir  appearance  at  the  same 
time  as  Uie  coachman  altered  bin.  This 
could  easily  bo  done  in  the  brougham 


1  think  the  idea  so  good  that  I  would  bo 
pleased  to  limn  a  -<vuihcato  to  work  it.  A 
small  supply  of  carriages  and  horses,  and  u 
good  company  of  uselul  people  would  be 
all  thai  would  be  necessary. 

As  manager,  1  would  suggest  one  of  the 
now  fairly  numerous  "  quick-change "  ar- 
tists who  have  done  so  much  recently  to 
render  the  leading  London  music-balls 
popular.  Perhaps,  with  a  few  pots  of 
easily-removed  paints,  even  the  horses 
might  be  alu-ivd.  liut  that  it  a  Detail. 

Yours  faithfully, 
•   A  LOVKH  OF  COSTLESS  SPLENDOUR. 


SPOfiTiVE  SONGS. 

A  long-time  Lover  expresses  hit  intense  ditlUce 
to  the  high-keeled  tight  Bouta  of  kit  Lady, 
who  projeua  to  enjoy  Ike  wtariny  of  the  tame. 

YOUR  heels  of  brass  make  pit-a-pat, 

Like  -N  A.NSE.N'B  feet  about  the  i'ole  ; 
Upon  an  india-rubber  mat 

1'ou  'd  make  the  substance  pay  its  toll, 
In  order  to  attention  draw 

To  those  twin  props  on  which  you  walk ! 
I  think  upon  a  street  of  straw 

You'd  demonstrate  your  pedal  talk  I 

The  inch  step  arched  is  fair  to  view, 

The  little  Orodeyuin  fine  and  neat, 
But  when  I  love  to  look  at  you, 

Must  I  be  always  at  your  feet  ? 
May  not  my  eyes  be  sometimes  raiaed 

To  meet  those  orbs  of  liquid  glow 
Shot  with  pure  gold  that,  halt  amazed, 

Have  kindred  tints  with  boots  below? 

I  never  have  quite  understood 

The  glory  ot  the  cobbler's  art; 
The  last,  1  know,  is  made  of  wood, 

And  only  lasts  that  we  may  "  part  "  I 
But  in  your  shoon  of  tightest  fit, 

Such  as  you  wore  at  church  to-day, 
I  'in  sure  you  said  a  little  bit 

That  could  not  fitly  rhyme  with  "pray"  1 

Do,  dearest  damsel,  think  of  this, 

That  feet  were  only  made  for  bards 
To   join    with   "love,"   and   "bliss,"  and 
"  kiss," 

And  break  the  porcelain  'mid  the  shards. 
The  dainty  "  uppers  "  cannot  make 

Your  long,  lithe  presence  more  to  me 
Than  when  you  deigned  to  undertake 

A  barefoot  ramble  by  the  seal 

Those    rambles  1     How    we  've    paoad  the 
shore 

The  bonny,  fir-clad  cluf  beside  1 
Till  when  the  all-forgotten  roar 

Had  warned  us  of  the  rising  tide. 
And  then  we  'd  scamper  up  the  cliff, 

To  sit  among  the  pine-grove  roots. 
That  was  a  time  without  a  tiff — 

Your    soul    did    not    know    high-heeled 
boots  I 

five  toes  upon  a  foot  expr< 

(Perhaps  a  foot  has  got  a  thumb), 
Ten  marks  upon  the  sand  impressed 

So  fairly  that  my  tongue  was  dumb. 
But  now  (and  here  I  broach  a  line 

That  all  my  manhood  bravely  scorns), 
Did  you,  in  that  sweet "  Auld  Lang  Syne," 

Have  any  knowledge,  dear,  of  corns  t 


238 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  15,  1897. 


Irate  Cabbie.   "On,  IF  I  'ADN'T  GOT  SOMETHING  INSIDE,  I'lt  TALK  TO  YOU  !' 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  I-BOM  THE  DIAKT  OF  TOBY,  M.P. 

House  of  Commons,  Monday,  May  3.— 
LOUGH,  though  in  later  life  he  mixes  his 
tea  in  London,  had  his  earliest  breakfast 
in  Ireland.  Occasionally,  as  to-night,  he 
pleasantly  reminds  House  of  his  pater- 
nity. Had  question  on  paper  addressed  to 
WALTER  LONG  with  reference  to  muzzling 
of  dogs.  Answer  given  with  wealth  of  de- 
tail. LOUGH,  charmed  with  the  conversa- 
tion, desires  to  prolong  it.  SPEAKER  benefi- 
cently sharp  on  Members  who  attempt  to 
evade  rule  that  notice  must  be  given  ot 
questions.  The  only  safe  thing  is  to  as- 
sume that  Minister  has  broken  fresh  ground 
by  his  reply.  That  done,  the  Member  says, 
"  Arising  out  of  that  answer  I  beg  to 
ask " 

To-night  WALTER  LONG  having  made  his 
answer,  sat  down.  Up  jumped  LOUGH, 
holding  out  a  letter  snatched  from  his 
pocket.  "  May  I,"  he  said,  "  ask  a  ques- 
tion which  has  been  sent  to  me  by  a  cor- 
respondent, arising  out  of  that  answer?" 

We  are  getting  on  to  end  of  century. 
What  with  telegraphs,  telephones,  torpedo- 
catchers,  big  wheels,  balloons,  motor-cars, 
and  railway  trains  running  through  the  sea, 
we  are  doing  pretty  well  in  the  way  of 
inter-communication.  House  felt  LOUGH'S 
correspondent  took  the  cake.  Echo  of 
LONG'S  answer  still  rumbled  through 
chamber.  Yet  here  was  Member  for  West 
Islington  with  a  letter  in  his  hand  "  arising 
out  of  that  answer "  which  correspondent 
had  written,  posted  and  obtained  de- 
livery of  1 

House  roared  with  delight,  whilst  LOUGH 
stood  staring  round,  wondering  what  on 
earth  he  had  said  now.  "  Only  shows," 
says  WILFRID  LAWSON,  "  how  strong  is  the 
force  of  habit.  A  man  who  spends  his 
morning  mixing  tea  is  apt  in  the  late  after- 
noon to  mix  his  sentences." 


Business  done. — Two  more  Government 
Bills  brought  in,  Employers  Liability,  and 
the  Undermanning  of  Ships. 

Tuesday  Evening. — Dr.  FARQUHARSON, 
favourably  known  to  House  of  Com- 
mons for  other  reasons  than  because  he 
owns  a  mountain,  to-night  crowned  honour- 
able career  by  delivery  of  one  of  most 
effective  speeches  of  the  QUEEN'S  long  and 
happy  reign.  It  was  on  question  of  habitual 


'  Arising  out  of  that  answer,  Sir." 
(Mr.  T-mmy  L-gh.) 


criminals.  CAMERON  moved  resolution  call- 
ing upon  Government  to  establish  adult 
reformatories  for  the  special  treatment  ot 
this  class  of  our  sisters  and  brothers.  In 
course  of  his  address  CAMERON  had  much  to 
say  about  long  sentences  and  short  sen- 
tences. His  speech  was  rather  a  long 
sentence,  extending  over  three  quarters  of 
an  hour  in  delivery.  Question  important 
and  interesting.  Members  accordingly 
went  out  to  think  it  over.  Thus  it  came 
to  pass  that  FARQUHARSON  came  into  heri- 
tage of  an  audience  fully  twelve  strong. 

Was  evidently  in  fine  form.  Cleared  his 
voice  with  one  or  two  preliminary  but  elo- 
quent coughs ;  squared  his  elbows ;  tugged 
alternately  at  his  shirt  cuffs ;  shook  his  legs 
out  about  the  knees ;  was  just  getting  into 
stride  when  someone  suggested  that  per- 
haps the  House  had  better  be  counted. 
FAHQTTHARSON  sat  down ;  sand-glass  on  table 
turned ;  bells  clanged  through  all  the  corri- 
dors. Slowly  a  score  of  Members  trooped 
in ;  but  the  habitual  criminals,  acting  in 
accordance  with  those  ingrained  habits 
CAMERON  deplored,  remained  in  their  lairs. 
When  SPEAKER  counted  he  found  only 
thirty  within  signalling  distance  of  his 
cocked  hat.  So,  at  ten  minutes  to  five, 
House  counted  out,  beating  all  recent  re- 
cord in  the  matter  of  earliness  of  the  hour. 

FARQUHARSON  not  at  all  puffed  up  at  this 
achievement  worthy  of  Jubilee  Year.  "  Tut, 
tut,"  he  said,  blushing,  when  congratu- 
lated. "In  the  circumstances  anyone 
could  have  done  it." 

But  we  know  better.  PRINCE  ARTHUR, 
who,  following  the  SQUIRE  OF  MALWOOD'S 
example,  is  sitting  by  his  own  fireside  to- 
night, disposed  to  take  the  matter  seriously. 

"  These  fellows  will  force  us  to  take 
Tuesdays,  dear  TOBY,"  he  said,  when  I 
looked  in  to  give  him  the  news.  "We 
don't  want  any  more  time  at  our  disposal. 
If  we  get  it  we  '11  have  to  do  something. 
Got  quite  enough  time  for  what  we  mean 
to  do.  If  they  had  only  managed  to  keep 


MAT  15,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


239 


things  going  f°r  this  one  Tuesday  night  we 
mi^ht  have  gone  on  as  we  aro  till  after 
Whitsuntide.  But,  really,  when  not  mtit- 
Red  with  counting  out  on  every  Tu 
they  have  had  since  the  Session  opened, 
private  Members  manage  to  get  a  count 
out  at  ten  minutes  to  five  on  a  May  after- 
noon, I  don't  we  how  we  can  decently  re- 
train from  forthwith  burdening  ourselves 
with  this  extra  day.'' 
Jin  • — None. 


matter?  Would  they  demand  SILOMIO'S 
immediate  release?  or  was  his  sacred  per- 
son tn  bit  deemed  contraband  of  war? 

UNUKH-SKI  IIKTAIIY  nut  FOIIKIUN  AFFAIRS. 
wlio-c  gravity  is  one  of  the  safeguards  of 
the  Groat  Powers  in  times  of  crisis,  so 
.•.mitten  hy  contagious  merriment  that  he 
eniild  hardly  frame  a  reply.  House  roareil 
;-fre.-h  when  he  a  sun-d  FIELD  that  the 
captive  knight  was  in  no  persona!  danger, 
ami  that  application  had  been  made  to 


pool.  The  captain  was  for  instant  MIIP  n- 
der.  The  crew  (aged  thirteen)  sobbed 
bitterly.  SILOMIO  was  pale,  but  that  ap- 
pearance was  owing  to  other  causes  than 
fear.  The  sea  was  mu'-li  mure  pert  ui  !•>••! 
than  was  the  hero. 

"  We  will  hold  on  our  course,"  he  said, 
"and  let  Greece  take  the  coii-e.|ii.-nc. •,. 
If  a  hand  is  laid  on  me.  Kngland  will  li  .• 
as  one  man,  anil  demand  a  million  sterling 
for  moral  and  intelleetnal  damage." 


A  MOMENT  OF  TRIUMPH  FOR  THE  GREBK  FLBET  I 


Thursday. — Long  time  since  House  of 
Commons  been  in  such  merry  mood.  Cir- 
cumstances attendant  thereupon  made 
case  more  remarkable.  The  morning 
newspapers  presented  their  customary 
contribution  of  war  news.  A  great  battle 
impending  at  Pharsala ;  fierce  fighting  at 
Velestino ;  the  iron  hand  of  the  Turk 
slowly  but  surely  closing  round  the  wrist 
of  the  Greek.  Stirring  news ;  but  it  all 
faded  into  nothingness  before  the  import 
of  one  detail.  Unfortunate  on  land,  the 
Greok  fleet  had  by  a  single  stroke  re- 
trieved the  fortunes  of  the  day. 

It  had  captured  SILOMIO! 

Yes;  BASHMEAD-ARTLETT,  Knight,  tin- 
elect  of  Sheffield,  the  pride  of  the  Senate, 
the  champion  of  the  Empire,  the  ca- 
nonized of  Swaziland,  outmanoeuvred  at 
sou,  is  carried  captive  to  Athens. 

It  might  be  thought,  in  face  of  such 
national  calamity,  that  the  flag  would  fly 
at  half-mast  on  Victoria  Tower,  that  shops 
would  be  closed,  that  bells  would  toll, 
that  the  House  of  Commons  would  mourn- 
fully adjourn.  "  Instead  of  which,"  as  the 
irrepressible  judge  said,  here  was  the 
House  on  the  broadest  of  grins,  breaking 
forth  into  uproarious  laughter  when  Ad- 
miral FIKI.D,  in  his  best  transpontine 
quarter-deck  manner,  enquired  what  the 
Foreign  Office  were  going  to  do  in  the 


(The  Captive  enters  A  them  !) 

place  him  at  disposal   of  HER  MAJESTY'S 
Minister  at  Athens. 

Business  done. — Irishmen  for  once  united 
(in  fresh  demands  on  Exchequer),  repulsed 
by  219  votes  against  127. 

Friday. — SARK  has  some  particulars  of 
the  naval  engagement  off  Salonica,  which 
shows  it  to  have  been  rather  a  desperate 
affair.  Don't  know  how  he  got  the  des- 
patch, but  it  reads  as  if  it  came  from 
headquarters. 

SILOMIO  setting  forth  from  Larissa  to 
Athens,  intent  upon  resuming  charge  of 
imperial  affairs  at  Westminster,  was 
warned  of  danger.  The  whole  Greek  fleet 
was  on  the  look  out  for  him.  Let  him  give 
them  the  slip,  and  go  by  land. 

"Bismallah!"  said  the  doughty  knight. 
"  A  Primrose  Leaguer  does  not  go  off  his 
ordered  course  for  any  foe." 

After  an  hour's  sailing  from  Tzayezi, 
something  at  first  taken  for  a  cloud  began 
to  converge  on  the  nailing  boat  which  car- 
ried SILOMIO  and  his  fortunes.  The  hero  ! 
was  at  the  moment  lying  at  the  bottom  of 
the  skiff,  the  sea  being  choppy.  But 
at  sign  of  danger  he  rose  to  his 
knees  and,  fixing  his  eyeglass,  scan- 
ned the  horizon.  The  cloud  drawing 
nearer,  turned  out  to  be  the  Groek  Fleet. 
SILOMIO  was  entrapped.  His  little  boat 
was  as  if  caught  in  the  vortex  of  a  whirl- 


In  a  few  minutes  a  torpedo  boat 
emerged  from  the  slowly-closing  circle ; 
made  straight  for  the  sailing  boat ;  cap- 
tured the  knight ;  conveyed  him  to  Ad- 
miral's flagship,  where  he  was  received 
with  full  honours,  officers  and  crew  drawn 
up  to  receive  him. 

"  You  ought  to  have  been  at  Salamis," 
said  the  Admiral,  respectfully  saluting. 

"Thank  you,"  said  SILOMIO,  gratefully 
feeling  a  firmer  tread  on  the  deck  of  the 
man-of-war ;  "  I  "ve  had  enough  of  travel 
just  now,  and,  if  you  could  arrange  it, 
would  rather  be  dropped  at  Sheffield." 

This  despatch  (delayed  in  transmission) 
bears  sign  of  hasty  writing.  But  it  also 
carries  the  impress  of  truth. 

xs  done. — Some  votes  in  Supply. 


Providing  for  the  Future. 

The  0' Hooligan  (to  the  tfacTavish). 
Faix !  but  ye  seem  to  be  overlapping  your 
quantum  to-night,  Laird.  Has  your  grand- 
father jined  to  the  Kensal  Greeners  ? 

The  MacTavwh.  That  no,  Sir,  but  the 
morrow,  gin  that  nae  accident  happen,  I 
shall  hae  the  luxury  o'  lunching  wi'  my 
bluid  cousin,  the  ex-Baillie  o"  Whilkna- 
craigie,  a  strict  temperance  mon,  wha 
canna  stand  whuskey.  And  so  I'm  joost 
drinkin'  up  to  his  soda-water  beforehand. 


240 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  15,  1897. 


"YOUNG    LOYALTY." 

(Aunt  and  Cousins  lionising  Bluecoat  Boy.) 

"BUT  DON'T  YOU  FIND  THE  SUN  VERT  TRYING  WITHOUT  A  HAT?"     "OH  NO,  THANKS." 
"OR  THE  COLD  IN  WINTER  TIME?"     "No,  I  DON'T  MIND  IT." 
"OR  THE  RAIN?" 

"No,  I  DON'T  MIND  THAT  KIND  OF  THING.    THE  ONLY  TIME  I  WANT  A  HAT  is  WHEN  THE 
BAND  PLAYS  'Goo  SAVE  THE  QUEEN,'  AND  THEN  I  no  WISH  I  HAD  ONE  TO  TAKE  OFF!" 


QUESTIONS  IN  THE  HOUSE. 

THE  other  day  Mr.  LOUGH  asked  the 
President  of  the  Board  of  Agriculture 
whether  a  dog  must  have  a  muzzle  on 
when  taking  his  morning  bath  in  a  pond 
on  Peckham  Bye.  Since  then  notice  has 
heen  given  of  the  following  questions :  — 

Mr.  LUFFER. —  To  ask  Mr.  HANBURY 
what  would  he  the  postage  of  a  letter  from 
Brixton  to  Bogota,  the  envelope  of  which 
contained,  in  addition  to  two  sheets  of 
note-paper,  one  woollen  comforter,  knitted 
by  his,  Mr.  LUFFBB'S,  sister-in-law. 

Mr.  MUFFER. — To  ask  the  Chancellor  of 
the  Exchequer  the  name  and  address  of  a 
shop,  in  or  near  Clapham,  where  his,  Mr. 
MUFFER'S,  aunt  can  obtain  good  bird-seed 
for  her  canary  at  the  lowest  price. 

Mr.  STUFFER. — To  ask  the  Home  Secre- 
tary whether  if  he,  Mr.  STUFFER,  should 
visit  Margate  during  the  summer,  the  right 
honourable  gentleman  could  recommend  an 
hotel  where  the  terms  are  small  and  the 
meals  are  large. 

Mr.  BUFFER. — To  ask  the  TTnder-Secre- 
tary  of  State  for  Foreign  Affairs,  as  he, 
Mr.  CURZON,  has  personally  studied  the 
manners  and  customs  of  Persia,  whether 
his,  Mr.  BUFFER'S,  cat,  a  native  of  that 
country,  should  be  fed  with  ordinary  Eng- 
lish meat,  or  with  some  diet  of  a  more 
oriental  nature. 

Mr.  DUFFER. — To  ask  the  First  Lord  of 
the  Admiralty  whether,  in  the  event  of 
his,  Mr.  DUFFER'S,  great  uncle  visiting 
Southern!,  it  would  be  advisable,  in  view 
of  possible  adverse  winds,  that  he,  Mr. 
DUFFER'S  great  uncle,  should  attach  his, 
.Mr.  DUFFER'S  great  uncle's,  hat  to  his 
waistcoat  by  means  of  a  cord  or  other 
appliance  called  a  hat-guard. 


DARBY  JONES  CONSIDERS  KEMPTON. 

HONOURED  SIR, — Who  is  the  Gentleman 
who  starts  rumours  about  Non-starters  for 
Big  Races?  Naturally  Echo  will  query 
the  term  "  gentleman,"  but  it  would  per- 
haps surprise  you,  Sir,  and  the  Peers, 
Baronets,  and  Members  of  the  Privy 
Council,  who  complete  their  education  by 
committing  the  axioms  of  Professor 
PUNCH  to  Memory,  to  know  that  on  those 
grades  of  Society  which  I  may  call  the 
Lower  Bungs  of  the  Ladder,  the  word 
"  gentleman "  possesses  no  attribute  of 
superiority,  but  is  always  applied  to  One 
possessing  the  Bounder-like  characteristics 
of  the  Kangaroo — a  being,  indeed,  looked 
down  upon  from  a  perch  by  the  Common 
or  Jubilee  Cad.  Well,  Sir,  one  of  these 
Esquires  by  indefinite  right  put  it  about 
that  Galtee  More  would  not  start  for  the 
Guineas  at  Newmarket,  and  the  Prophet 
was  only  able-  to  nail  the  Second  and 
Third  on  the  Board  of  Speculation,  the 
lay  of  the  Minstrel  at  50  to  1  for  a  win 
and  4  to  1  for  a  place  possibly  reflecting 
some  of  that  credit  displayed  by  a  well- 
polished,  hall-marked  silver  soup-ladle  on 
your  henchman  and  heeler. 

Lord  BOSEBERY  deplored,  I  believe,  that 
he  had  met  with  another  Isinrjlass.  The 
noble  earl  has  met  with  continual  Isin- 
glasses during  his  Political  and  Turf  career, 
but,  like  little  Jack  Homer,  he  is  still 
sitting  in  his  corner,  pulling  out  the 
Plums  of  Life,  and  on  his  fiftieth  birth- 
day (good  gracious  me !  it  was  only  yester- 
day that  he  was  Lord  DALMENY  at  Eton !), 
I  beg  to  tender  him  my  sincere  congratu- 
lations, wishing  him  over  the  Derby  that 
luck  which  befell  Salvation  Teo  in  West- 
ward Ho,  when  he  and  Amy  as  Leigh  en- 


countered the  Gubbins  clan  on  the  moors 
of  Devon.  His  Lordship  will  know  what 
I  mean,  honoured  Sir,  even  if  the  refer- 
ence pass  your  understanding. 

Hats  off  to  the  Ditch,  to  the  Butland 
Arms,  and  the  Jockey  Club !  Away  to 
Sunbury  by  the  Thames,  to  the  Most  Con- 
venient Bace  Course  in  the  World — and 
that  is  saying  a  great  deal — Kempton 
Park,  the  demesne  of  Mr.  S.  H.  HYDE, 
who  apparently  is  about,  as  a  Model  Ma- 
gistrate and  a  Simple  District  Councillor, 
to  sit  upon  himself  as  tho  wicked  Manager 
of  a  Sinful  Spot,  where  the  voice  of  the 
"  Bookie "  mingles  with  that  of  the 
thrush  and  the  blackbird.  Mark  you,  Sir, 
I  don't  say  that  Kempton  is  the  best  race 
track  in  the  world,  all  I  say,  it  is  the  most 
convenient.  If  you,  or  any  other  Master 
of  Savoir  Faire,  will  tell  me  another  place 
devoted  to  the  Sport,  wherewithal  Mon- 
archs  are  supposed  to  amuse  themselves  in 
their  hours  of  pastime,  so  perfectly  "get- 
at-able  "  in  all  sorts  and  conditions  of 
weather,  I  should  be  glad  to  know  the 
name  of  that  rendezvous.  For  my  own 
part,  there  is  only  one  Kempton  which 
can  be  reached  under  shelter  the  whole 
way  from  your  front  door  in  London 
to  your  Grand  Stand  or  Members'  En- 
closure, via  Waterloo  Station,  and  once 
there,  you  need  never  be  grilled  by  the 
sun  or  pelted  by  the  rain.  Take  my 
word  for  it,  Sir,  if  the  nave  of  the 
Crystal  Palace  were  turned  into  a 
cricket  ground,  it  would  be  equally  popu- 
lar. Nowadays  your  pleasure-seeker  likes 
to  be  taken  to,  and  brought  back  from, 
his  temporary  Mecca  without  disturbing 
the  cotton-wool  in  which  he  is  of  course 
packed  as  a  precaution  against  the  cli- 
mate. Oh!  dear  me,  why  doesn't  the 
Aggravated-Grandmothers  League  let  the 
rich  or  poor  race-goer  alone  ?  At  Kemp- 
ton  Park  he  has  everything  done  to  make 
him  respectable  and  harmless,  and  yet  the 
A.-G.  Leaguers  won't  let  him  en.ioy  him- 
self after  his  own  way.  It  isn't  the  folk, 
who  show  themselves  at  a  Gathering  of 
this  kind,  who  go  home  in  a  hurry  and 
volunteer  for  the  Greek  Army  on  the 
morrow.  But,  as  my  friend  Captain 
OUISBY  always  remarks,  "  The  real  gam- 
blers are  those  who  frequent  disreputable 
houses  in  Soho,  where  the  Tape  runs  from 
morning  till  night,  and  who  don't  know  a 
horse  from  a  gander."  Even  the  other 
colleague  to  whom  Lord  SALISBURY  re- 
cently referred  when  they  brought  back 
Pence  and  Honour  from  Berlin,  was  an 
unsuccessful  plunger.  I  believe,  too,  that 
Mr.  LABOUCHERE,  M.P.,  is  a  Greater 
Englander,  when  the  interests  of  Pari- 
Mutuel  are  attacked. 

But  let  me  to  work,  and  endeavour  to 
unravel  the  skein  of  the  Diamond  Jubilee 
Stakes,  which  are  to  be  run  in  the  Park  of 
HYDE  and  seek.  Here  goes. 

You  will  not  Shnot  the  Bird  this  time, 
Nor  weddiny  bells  for  Hmband  chime ; 

The  Welshman  mny  RO  nearly. 
For  me  I  '11  choose  that.  Conqueror  Wild, 
Who  oft  the  barker  has  be? uiled 

And  sometimes  cost  him  dearly ; 
Together  with  the  Mixture,  who 
May  run  Our  Uncle  for  1,  2. 

Put  your  Faith,  Hope,  and  Charity, 
honoured  Sir,  on  your  devoted  adherent 
with  the  Bbntgen  rays,  DARBY  JONES. 


PICTURE  FOR  NEXT  YEAR'S  B.A. — No. 
145.  Mr.  AUSTEN  BROWN'S  "  Calves  "  will 
be  succeeded  by  his  "  Ankles." 


MAY  22,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


241 


SHAMEFUL    PARSIMONY. 

Thomas.  "AND  WOT  D'YOU  THINK  'ER  LADYSHIP  'AD  FROM  THE 
DUCHESS  FOR  A  WKDDING  PRESENT  !  Two  SKCOND-'ANU  Cera  AND 
SAUCERS  ! " 

Jane.  "  LOR,  MR.  THOMAS  !  I  DO  THINK  AS  'ER  GRACE  MIGHT 
'AVE  MAKE  OUT  THK 


CHARITY  AT  HOME. 

(Extract  from  the  Diary  of  a  Philanthropist.) 

M  inulay. — Received  nn  application  from  a  Society  for  the 
Extension  of  Education  amongst  those  most  in  need  of  it.  Very 
proper  scheme.  Regard  it  with  the  heartiest  approval.  Seems 
old-established,  too.  Wonder  why  I  have  not  heard  of  it  before. 
The  circular  enlightens  me.  "  Taking  advantage  of  the  approach- 
ing auspicious  occasion."  I  see.  Well,  will  consider  it  with  the 
others  already  forwarded. 

Tuesday. — Appeal  from  the  management  of  "The  Self-Sup- 
porting Orphans."  Good  notion.  When  a  baby  is  left  destitute 
the  organisation  steps  in  and  sets  it  up  in  business.  Refer  to 
appended  documents,  and  discover  that  its  foundation  dates, 
back  several  decades.  Why  have  I  been  addressed  after  tlii.- 
neglect  of  years?  Ah,  to  tie  sure,  "  Taking  advantage  of  the 
approaching  auspicious  occasion."  Pigeon-hole  with  the  others. 

II '< 'ilni 'mltty. — Another  appeal!  This  time  the  lower  creation 
attracts  attention.  "Home  for  Reclaimable  Blackbeetlr-..' 
Seems  commendable.  Idea  to  turn  a  pest  into  a  blessing.  Train 
blackbeetles  to  spin  silk.  Wonder  why  I  have  never  heard  of 
the  scheme  before.  Founded,  too,  fifty  years  ago.  Ah,  I  see, 
"  Taking  advantage  of  the  approaching  auspicious  occasion." 
Appears  to  be  common  form.  CircuLir  is  added  to  the  rest. 

Thursday. — Post  brings  in  customary  application.  "  Convales- 
cent Home  for  the  Healthy."  I  see.  Not  a  bad  idea.  Preven- 
tion better  than  cure.  If  people  are  well,  keep  them  so. 
Wonder  why  it  has  not  been  started  before.  It  has.  Founded 
early  in  the  century.  Why  then  address  me  at  this  late  hour? 
Oh,  I  see,  "  Taking  advantage  of  the  approaching  auspicious 
occasion."  Added  to  the  others. 

Friday. — Postman  with  the  usual  batch.  "Cinderella1;  for  the 
Aged."  Why  not  cheer  the  evenings  of  second  childhood!  Cer- 
tainly, why  not?  The  cheering  seems  to  have  been  going  on  for 
some  time.  But  why  now  address  me  ?  Ah,  "  Taking  advantage 


of   the  approaching   auspicious    occasion."     I    have   heard    the 
phrase  before.     Put  away  with  the  others. 

tutiinliiii.  An:iiii  they  come.  "Homes  for  the  Affluent!" 
Argument,  if  the  poor  are  looked  after,  why  not  the  rich?  Seems 
something  in  the  idea.  Circular  proves  that  the  charity  is  older 
than  the  century.  Dear  me.  Wonder  why  I  should  have  been 
:iil<lrev*-il.  Suppose  they  thought,  "better  late  than  never." 
Not  exactly.  Taking  advantage  of  the  approaching  auspicious 
occasion."  Exactly. 

nday. — Looking  through  my  InTievolent  bequests  for  the 
past  week.  Plenty  of  them,  and  ninety-nine  per  cent,  to  "com- 
memorate the  approaching:  au>|iiei'>u»  occasion."  A  little 
awkward!  Hundreds  of  applications  sent  in.  Can't  attend  to 
every  suggestion.  Invidious  to  make  a  selection.  Perhaps  the 
best  thing  to  do,  as  I  cannot  subscribe  to  all,  is,  to  give  to  none ! 
Has  the  advantage  of  being  economical ! 

OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

OF/IDA'S  latest  novel.  The  Massarenet  (SAMPSON  Low  A  Co.), 
is,  from  every  point  of  view,  excellent.  Since  THACKERAY'S  im- 
mortal "Becky,"  there  has  not  been  drawn  by  any  satirical 
writer  a  type  so  true  to  nature,  to  nature,  that  is,  with  its  natu- 
ral good  almost  obliterated,  and  its  evil  fully  developed,  as  the 
Lady  Kenilworth  of  this  story,  known  in  her  family  as  "  Mouse." 
THACKERAY'S  heroine  in  his  "  Novel  without  a  hero  "  sprang  from 
the  people,  and  had  to  work  her  way  upwards  to  position  and 
fortune  :  OUIDA'S  heroine,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  patrician  of 
patricians,  lacking  the  true  nobility  of  race,  out  a  spoilt  child, 
with  an  hereditary  contempt  for  the  plfb.i,  a  cultured  sensual- 
ist with  so  powerful  a  hunger  for  money  that  no  amount  of 
wealth  could  appease,  and  with  such  a  capacity  for  profligacy  that 
millions  cannot  satisfy.  The  picture  of  her  husband.  Cocky," 
son  of  the  Duke,  of  Otterbourne,  as  he  lived  and  as  he  died,  is 
drawn  with  great  power ;  and  the  sketches  of  the  very  smartest 
of  the  most  modern  Smart  Society  are  as  true  as  they  are  in- 
tentionally caustic  and  disillusioning.  There  are  three  straight- 
forward, virtuous  persons  in  the  dramatis  personal,  and  of  these 
the  first  is  the  co-heroine,  Katherine  Massarene,  who  seems  just 
a  bit  too  hard  to  be  quite  lovable ;  yet  is  she  well  mated  to  the 
second  Lord  Hurstmanceavr,,  an  admirably  conceived  character, 
just  good  enough  to  be  true  ;  while  the  third  is  the  young  Duke, 
a  mere  child,  a  splendid  little  fellow,  worth  a  wilderness  of  Little 
Lord  Fauntleroys.  The  finish  of  the  story  is  as  artistic  as  is  that 
of  Vanity  Fair,  and  to  no  work  of  fiction  can  a  higher  compli- 
ment be  paid.  The  quite  unnecessary  introduction  of  an  exalted 
personage  is  non-essential,  and  ia  decidedly  an  error:  but  it  is 
the  only  one.  Of  this  novel,  as  a  photograph  from  life  at  high 
pressure  in  these  last  years  of  the  nineteenth  century,  it  may 
be  truly  said  that,  beyond  interesting  and  amusing,  it  gives 
food  for  serious  reflection.  Is  our  time  morally  worse  than 
that  of  the  Tudors.  the  Stuarts,  or  of  the  Regency  ?  More  than 
ever  is  it  essential  to  keep  up  "appearances,"  and  to  observe, 
most  strictly,  "  les  convenances " ;  then,  these  canons  being 
obeyed,  "  Respectability,"  that  "  tribute  which  Vice  pays  to 
Virtue,"  is  the  note  of  Modern  Society. 

If  OUTDA  had  required  prototypes  for  her  Modern  Society 
characters  she  had  only  to  turn  to  a  book  recently  published  by 
FISHER  USWIN,  entitled,  Twelve  Bad  Women,  and  from  that 
compilation,  excellently  well  done,  with  a  moral  to  every  narra- 
tive, she  could  have  selected  either  Lady  FRANCES  HOWARD,  who 
"  flourished  "  between  1593  and  1632,  or  have  taken  as  a  model 
BARBARA  VIIAIERS,  Duchess  of  Cleveland  (1640-1709),  or  ALICK 
FERRERS,  the  favourite  of  KINO  EDWARD  THE  THIRD,  to  whom 
this  amiable  lady  seems  to  have  played  the  part  of  Becky  to  Jos 
>.,//.>/  in  his  declining  years.  It  is  a  curious  book,  as  morbidly 
interesting  as  a  well-written  Newgate  Calendar ;  but  it  can  only 
be  recommended  to  the  healthiest,  and  cannot  with  safety  be 
given  as  a  pass-time  to  an  invalid  who,  himself  blessed  with  a 
clear  conscience,  yet  suffering  from  an  evil  liver,  would  scarcely 
be  cheered  or  consoled  by  the  example  of  such  notorious  "  enl 
livers  "  as  are  those  of  whom  he  will  read  in  this  work. 

THU  BARON  DB  B.-W. 

P.S. — Writing  last  week  about  The  Oxford  Dictionary,  my 
Baronite,  temporarily  dazed  with  the  erudition  of  the  monumental 
work,  attributed  the  editorship  to  Professor  JOSEPH  WRIGHT. 
That  was  W'rong.  It  is  The  English  Dialect  Dictionary  Professor 
WRIGHT  edited.  Tho  Editors  of  The  Oxford  Dictionary  are  Dr. 
JAMES  MURRAY  and  HENRY  BRADLEY. 

PROSPECT  FOR  A  NKW  EQUESTRIAN  STATUS. — The  owner  nf  this 
year's  Derby  favourite  savs,  "  If  he  wins  he  will  have  the  horse's 
statue  made  in  gold."  If  he  loses,  the  statue  shall  be  made  all 
the  same,  but — in  "beaten  gold." 


TOL.  cxn. 


242 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  22,  1897. 


MAT  22,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


243 


A    SERIOUS    MATTER. 

||  YOU  SEEM  TO   HAVE   QUITE   FORSAKEN   YOUK   BlCYCLB,    CAPTAIN   PELHAM  !" 

Y-A-8.      FACT  18,    IT   MADE  ME  SO   CONFOUNDEDLY  MUSCULAR,    I   COULDN'T  GET   INTO  A   PAIR  OF  DECENT  HUNTINO-BOOT8  ! " 


CHELSEA  BEACH. 

THE  County  Council  did  not  like 

This  bay,  these  bends,  a  useless  waste ; 
An  artist's  eye  perhaps  they  strike, 
They  must  offend  a  vestry's  taste. 
Oh !  bother  men  like  K  KK.NK  or  LEECH, 
Let 's  do  away  with  Chelsea  Reach ! 

The  County  Council  did  not  care 

For  curves  which  artless  Nature  made  ; 
They  wished  no  "  line  of  beauty  "  there, 
Such  fads  as  that  had  never  paid. 

Oh !    hang    what    HOGARTH    used    to 

teach, 
Let 's  do  away  with  Chelsea  Reach ! 

The  County  Council  did  not  wish 

To  contemplate  artistic  spots ; 
Why  leave  to  water  and  to  fish 
Such  eligible  building  plots  P 

Oh  I  blow  the  barges  on  the  beach, 
Let 's  do  away  with  Chelsea  Reach  I 

The  County  Council  could  not  bear 

To  let  this  vast  "  improvement "  wait ; 
Such  crooked  banks  they  must  repair, 
They  longed  to  make  the  river  straight. 
Though  artists  rave,  and  scream,  and 

screech , 
Let 's  do  away  with  Chelsea  Reach  1 

The  County  Council  fancied  that 
Just  settled  all  about  the  bay, 
Till  this  Select  Committee  sat 
And  settled  them  the  other  day. 
The  Chairman  made  a  little  speech, 
"You  shall  not  alter  Chelsea  Reach  1" 


True  Charity. 

Amy  (meeting  Harry  with  a  collecting 
box).  Are  you  collecting  contributions  for 
the  Jubilee  Week  Fund  ? 

Harry.  No,  dear,  for  the  Regeneration 
and  Soda  Water  Committee  the  week 
after. 


A  REGULAR  KXOCKER. 
A  Study  of  the  latest  Society  Coiffure. 


A  BICYCLING  BALLADE. 
(A  Pair  Cyclist  celebrates  a  Triumph.) 

To  hunt  or  ride  or  drive  may  be 

To  some  fair  sisters  passing  sweet, 
The  wheel  (at  present)  is  to  me, 

However  tyred,  a  tireless  treat. 

Some  love  shop-windows  in  the  street, 
Some  golf  or  tennis  live  to  play, 

Some  do  no  more  than  eat  and  sleep — 
I  Ve  done  my  sixty  miles  to-day  I 

•We  pedalled  "  o'er  the  downs  so  free," 

And  heard  the  merry  lambkins  bleat. 
No  thought   of   mint-sauce   marred   their 
glee — 

On,  on  we  pedalled,  sure  and  fleet. 

In  spite  of  wind,  in  spite  of  heat, 
Though  long  and  hilly  was  the  way — 

Cyclometers  are  above  deceit — 
I  Ve  done  my  sixty  miles  to-day  I 

By  forest-" lawn "  (and,  haply,  "lea"), 

By  village,  farm,  and  country-seat 
We  pedalled  on  from  morn  to  tea 

And — I  'in  alive  to  tell  the  feat. 

This  one  small  triumph  is  complete, 
Beyond  all  question.     Come  what  may, 

"  Fate  cannot  harm  me  " — I  repeat, 
I  've  done  my  sixty  miles  to-day  I 

Envoi. 

"  Bike  " — your  forgiveness  that  I  greet 
You  thus  cncophonously  I  pray — 

My  record  you  have  helped  me  beat, 
I  Ve  done  my  sixty  miles  to-day  I 


244 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  22,  1897. 


TUB  Opera  Sea- 
son commenced  on 
Saturday,  May  8, 
with  a  "Concert  of 
Europe,"  and  the 
Operatic  Pie  being 
opened,  the  birds 
began  to  sing,  as 
follows : — • 

Monday.  —  Faust 
and  foremost. 
Pleased  to  see  Ma- 
dame EAHES,  as 
Marguerite  (a  bit 
tired  of  Peggy,  not 
of  Madame  EAMES, 
in  a  general  way), 
and  delighted  to 
hear  her  as  "/raiche 
comme  une  Margue- 
rite "  in  that  ever- 
brilliant  gem,  the 
jewel  song.  Mile. 
BAUEKMEISTEK, 
several  years  youn- 
ger than  ever,  try- 
ing to  appear  an- 
cient as  the  Duenna  Martha.  Valentine,  NOTE  ;  lien  Note. 
But  he  made  the  audience  smile  loudly  when  he  died,  such  a 
flop  did  Valentine  go  down  !  Merry  MAHCINELLI  conducting 
self  and  orchestra  in  first-rate  style.  Chorus  a  bit  wrong  at 
first;  all  right  at  last.  Big  house.  Eoyal  Highnesses  present  in 
two  boxes.  Good  start. 

Tuesday. — House  seems  to  know  Borneo  et  Juliette  by  heart, 
as  it  doesn't  come  in  till  long  after  commencement  of 
Opera,  and  then,  suddenly,  it  is  "  full  up."  M.  SOARAMBERG,  as 
Borneo,  a  bit  nervous ;  quite  strong  enough,  however,  to  support 
himself  and  Juliet  in  the  balcony,  when  both  obtained  support 
of  audience.  Mme.  SAVILLB,  delightful  as  a  cantatrice,  but  as 
Juliet  rather  of  the  "  reserved  force  "  order.  Opera  not  com- 
plete without  Mile.  BAUERMEISTEB  as  Gertrude.  MANCINELLI 
turned  on  for  every  night  in  the  week  up  to  Friday.  Stage 
management  of  T.  H.  FRIEND,  all  right.  Motto  of  Italian 
Opera: — "Friend  in  need  is  stage  manager  indeed." 

Wednesday. — Warbling  WAGNER'S  Tannhauser.  Poor  EMMA 
EAMES  "  indispoged  "  ;  kind  Mile.  PAOARY  takes  her  part.  Noble 
conduct  of  Mile.  PAOAHY!  it  is  so  rare  to  find  one  woman  taking 
another's  part.  H.R.H.  Princess  of  WALES  and  distinguished 
visitors  evidently  much  touched  by  Mile.  PACARY'S  devotion. 
VAN  DYCK  first  rate :  bis  skill  in  making  up  evidently  inherited 
from  celebrated  artistic  ancestor.  M.  NOTE  so  full  of  "go"  that 
he  is  now  known  as  "Note  Beany."  Bowery  Lass,  BAtTERMEiSTER, 
singing  the  shepherd's  song  to  perfection.  M.  JOURNET  very 
good  cette  soiree  as  Landgrave.  Stage  management  looking  up ; 
everybody  generally  acting  on  "  Friendly  "  hints.  Also  gratify- 
ing to  remember  that  "  Now  we  sha'n't  be  long  "  seems  to  be  the 
motto  for  what  used  to  be  needlessly  protracted  entr'actes. 

Thursday. — Aida  (which  of  course  is  not  pronounced  by  really 
accomplished  linguists  "aider")  lends  her  assistance.  House 


delighted  to  welcome  her,  and,  in  spite  of  the  apology  offered  for 
the  cold  of  the  lady  in  the  title-role,  declares  that  lady  to  come 
out  "  Strong,"  in  fact,  SUSAN  STRONG.  Miss  SUSAN  maintains 
the  reputation,  secured  a  couple  of  years  ago  in  the  music  of  the 
only  occasionally  Waggish  WAGNER.  Has  an  excellent  help- 
mate in  "  the  other  lady?"  Miss  MARIE  BREMA,  who  sings  in  fault- 
less style  and  a  Babylonian  wig.  A  welcome  newcomer  in  Signer 
CEPPI,  who  looks  a  fine  figure  of  a  man — not  in  the  least  like  an 
effeminate  "Cheppy."  PLANCON  of  course  admirable,  and 
ANCONA  artistically  truculent.  Stage  management  very  good. 
Ballet  of  small  foreigners  quaint,  but  requiring  a  little  extra 
drill.  Otherwise  everything  excellent.  Ladies  of  the  Egyptian 
chorus  dusky  to  the  wrists,  and  then — as  they  should  be,  seeing 
they  are  blameless — appearing  with  white  hands.  Large  and 
enthusiastic  audience.  H.R.H.  the  ex-Commander-in-Chief  in 
evidence  reviewing  the  army  from  a  private  (not  a  sentry)  box. 
Seemed  to  appreciate  the  powers  of  manoeuvring  evidently  pos- 
sessed by  (should  be)  Brevet-General  FRIEND.  Altogether  a  de- 
lightful evening.  Stalls  smart  with  pretty  gowns  and  diamonds, 
and  denizens  of  the  gallery  wearing  spectacles  and  reading  huge 
scores.  Intellect  and  beauty  from  floor  to  ceiling. 

Friday. — A  huge  house  for  the  Huguenots.  Royalty  present 
and  appreciative.  Miss  MARIE  ENGLE  distinctly  engaging  as 
Marguerite  de  Valois.  Charming  both  in  voice  and  appearance. 
Strong  cast,  PLANCON,  NOTE  (worth  his  weight  in  gold),  and  the 
ever-changeable  Mile.  BAUERMEISTEB.  On  the  present  occasion 
she  appears  as  a  maid  of  honour,  radiant  with  youth  and  beauty. 
as  a  prelude  to  the  assumption  of  the  part  of  the  decrepid 
Marthe  ordered  for  the  morrow.  Urbain,  the  page,  appropri- 
ately brazen-faced  (in  the  accomplished  hands  of  Mme.  BRAZZI), 
and  consequently  quite  attentive  to  the  lady  of  the  Court. 
Orchestra  and  chorus  all  that  could  be  desired — M.  FLON  in  the 
(conductors)  chair.  The  programme  obligingly  communicative. 
"The  Incidental  Divertissement"  it  begins.  Then  the  reader 
pauses  for  a  moment  to  consider  who  would  dance  the  incidental 
divertissement.  Not  M.  VAN  DYCK,  because  he  is  busy  pre- 
paring for  the  morrow's  reappearance  in  Faust.  Not  Signer 
ANCONA,  because  he  is  this  evening  in  the  front  of  the  house. 
Then  who  on  earth  would  it  be  ?  Then  the  reader  returns  to 
the  programme,  and  the  mystery  is  solved.  "The  Incidental 
Divertissement  by  the  Corps  de  Ballet."  Why,  of  course  !  Quite 
natural !  How  do  they  think  of  such  clever  things  ?  House  and 
performance  most  satisfactory.  Mutual  congratulations  ex- 
changed from  either  side  of  the  curtain. 

Saturday.  —  Faust 
and  last.  Grand  repe- 
tition of  sensational 
effects.  Duel  scene 
goes  splendidly  until 
the  end,  and  then 
comes  a  heavy  drop. 
In  fact  a  couple  of 
drops,  because  the 
curtain  falls  shortly 
afterwards.  For  the 
rest,  the  good  ship 
Opera  starts  on  a 
prosperous  voyage. 
So  far,  no  breakers 
ahead. 


MAT  22,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


245 


AUGUSTE  EN  ANGLETERRE. 

Lo.NlMiN. 

DEAR  MI.VIKK, — I  have  said  you  that  Mister  X.  the  deputy 
showed  me  the  salles-a-manyer  for  the  strangers  who  visit  the 
House  of  the  Commons.  After  to  have  visited  these  poor  little 
rooms,  he  shows  to  mo  those  who  are  reserved  for  the  deputies. 
C'est  une  nut  re  pavre  de  manches,  partout  IK  confortable  anglais, 
the  english  comfortable.  But  the  ladies  can  not  to  go  there. 
That  shall  arrive  perhaps,  after  many  years,  when  they  can  to 
be  elected.  Une  deputee!  See  there  a  new  word.  But,  lulu?:, 
I  lie  female  deputy  shall  be  probably  that  which  you  call  "a 
strongly  minded  woman."  Oh  quelle  horreur! 

I  see  alao  the  libraries,  very  tranquil  and  very  luxuous,  and 
then  we  retraverso  the  "  Lobby  "  and  the  octagon  hall,  and  we 
arrive  to  the  House  of  the  Lords.  With  the  deputy  I  can  to 
outer  in  a  species  of  lodge,  luge,  at  side  of  the  door.  From  there 
I  seo  a  great  hall,  much  of  sculpture  in  wood,  a  gilded  throne 
and  several  ranges  of  benches  covered  of  red.  At  the  middle, 
on  that  which  the  English  call  a  mussulman — ah  no,  an  ottoman ! 
—a  mister  is  seated.  He  has  the  air  enough  melancholy,  planted 
theru  at  the  mi'ldlc,  and  forced  of  to  hold  himself  "bolted  up- 
right," as  one  says  in  english,  from  fear  of  to  roll  from  his  seat 
so  incommodious.  Himself  is  enough  droll.  At  first  I  think 
that  he  has  the  hairs  grey,  enormously  long,  and  then  I  perceive 
that  he  carries  a  perruque  at  the  ancient  mode.  What  droll  of 
person  I  He  must  to  be  some  senator  condemned  to  be  punished 
thus.  Some  customs,  some  habitudes,  so  ancient  exist  still  in 
England.  I  have  heard  to  speak  of  a  "stool  of  repentance" 
and  of  a  "dunce's  cap."  I  know  not  that  which  they  are.  Les 
i-iii/i't  iii'iit-i'li-i .  It  is  desolating  to  see  a  mister  so  respectable 
in  a  situation  so  deplorable. 

On  the  red  benches  there  is  perhaps  twenty  misters,  who  re- 
pose themselves  and  speak  together  at  low  voice.  Without 
doubt  they  are  fatigued.  It  is  at  present  4.40.  They  have 
worked  perhaps  since  ten  of  clock.  They  are  not  young.  They 
work  as  that  without  any  salary.  What  iioble  sacrifice  for  their 
country !  Ah,  at  present  they  adjourn !  They  part,  and  we 
also.  In  the  corridor  I  say  to  Mister  X.  that  the  senators  have 
the  air  fatigued,  that  they  work  much.  "  Not  so  much,"  re- 
sponds he,  "they  began  to-day  at  half-past  four."  "How,"  I 


him.  "That."  he  cries,  tout  ahuri,  "that  was  the  Lord  High 
Chancellor  of  England !  " 

Oh  del!  I  shall  comprehend  never  the  costumes  of  your 
country.  The  concierge  of  your  Bank  resembles  to  a  Lord  Maire, 
the  Chancellor  on  his  ottoman  has  the  air  of  I  know  not  what 
of  sad  and  of  pathetic. 

Then  Mister  X.  conducts  me  to  the  gallery  of  the  House  of 
the  Commons.  We  sit  ourselves.  I  perceive  that  the  hall  re- 
sembles not  to  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  at  Paris.  Absolutely 
not  of  tribune,  not  of  benches  in  half  Circle,  not  of  desks  for  the 
deputies.  At  the  middle  I  perceive  a  dignified  and  respectable  mis- 
ter,  not  on  an  "  ottoman,  but  on  a  throne.  This  time  I  deceive 
not  myself.  I  say  to  Mister  X. ,  "  It  is  the  Chancellor  of  the  Com- 
mons." "  No,"  responds  he,  "  it  is  the  speaker."  "  Truly,"  I 
say,  "what  droll  or  idea!  That  species  of  throne  is  then  the 
tribune,  and  each  orator  carries  a  wig  and  speaks  seated?"  He 
explicates  to  me  that  the  "  Speaker  speaks  not,  and  that  he  is 
in  effect  the  President  of  the  Chamber.  Then  he  indicates  to 
me  some  ones  of  the  deputies,  Sir  HABOOURT,  Sir  BALFOUK,  Lord 
CHAMBERLAIN,  Sir  BAKTLKTT,  Sir  LABOUCHERB,  and  some  others 
of  whom  I  forget  the  names.  The  benches  have  the  air  of  to  be 
enough  incommodious.  The  deputies  are  very  squeezed,  and 
several,  above  all  Sir  BALFOUB,  have  almost  slipped  from  the 
seats.  In  effect  tliis  last,  for  not  to  fall  on  the  floor,  is  obliged 
of  to  put  the  foots  on  a  table  before  him.  It  would  be  perhaps 
possible  to  prevent  tho  slipping  of  Sir  BALFOUB  and  of  the  others, 
in  fixing  a  strap  around  of  the  waist,  as  for  an  infant  in  a 
"perambulator.  I  have  the  honour  of  to  offer  this  idea  to 
Misters  the  Deputies. 

While  that  I  regard  I  hear  some  inarticulate  cries,  as  the 
"  Tres  bien ! "  of  our  Chamber.  They  become  more  loud.  Then 
I  perceive  that  the  President  on  the  throne  has  not  of  bell,  as 
the  ours.  And  in  effect  that  values  better.  At  Paris,  more  the 
President  rings,  more  the  deputies  cry.  C'est  un  vacarme 
effroyable  ! 

But  at  the  fine  I  see  the  thing  the  most  curious.  Before  me, 
at  (lie  other  end  of  the  hall,  there  is  a  large  grille,  not  that  which 
you  call  "  a  silver  grill,"  for  she  has  the  air  of  to  be  Elided. 
For  sure  it  is  a  species  of  ventilator.  C'est  inorme.  The  English 
are  enraged  of  hygiene  and  of  currents  of  air,  and  therefore  they 


ME.  PUNCH'S  ILLUSTRATIONS  TO  THE  POETS. 

"SO  CAREFUL  OF  THE  TYl'E,    SHE  SEEMS." — Tennyson. 


have  fixed  in  their  Chamber  of  Deputies  the  most  great  ventilator 
of  the  world.  By  consequence  some  ones  of  the  deputies  are 
forced  to  carry  their  hats.  But  I  perceive  not  a  current  of  air. 
In  effect  the  air  is  not  good.  It  is  not  the  suffocating  and 
poisoned  atmosphere  of  the  Casino  of  Monte  Carlo,  it  is  rather 
the  closed  air  of  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale. 

In  quitting  the  Palace,  ana  in  thanking  Mister  X.  of  hia 
charming  courtesy,  I  speak  to  him  of  the  great  ventilator. 
"  Not  a  ventilator."  responds  he,  "  it  is  the  Ladies'  Gallery. 
'They  are  hidden  behind  the  bars."  Sapristi!  Ma  foi,  c'est 
incroyable  !  To  shut  the  charming  english  misses  behind  a  grille, 
as  some  wild  beasts.  C'est  etonnant!  Voila  a  gallery  for  the 
"strongly  minded  womans,"  the  deputies  of  the  future.  One 
would  nide  them  very  volunteerly,  tres-volontiers.  But  the 
adorable  misses  1  Oh  la,  la!  Tieni,  tiens,  tiens!  Ak  par  ex- 
emple,  voila  qui  passe  let  bornes !  Agree,  &c.,  AUGUSTS. 


TACKLING  THE,  TRAFFIC. 
•    FnisT  METHOD.     IN  PARIS. 

SCENE—  A  crowded  thoroughfare.     All  sorb  of  Vehicles  hard  at  wort, 
fool  passengers,  riders,  and  drivers  jumbled  together. 

Guardian  of  the  Peace  (draicing  his  truncheon).  In  the  name 
of  the  law  arrest  your  movements! 

Cabman  (paying  no  attention).  I  am  off  to  the  station. 

Omnibus  Man.  Can't  stop — only  wait  at  the  ticket  offices. 

Guardian  of  the  Peace.  In  the  name  of  the  law  stop !  I  com- 
mand you  I 

Tradesman's  Cartman  (laughing).  Nonsense!  Don't  be  absurd! 

Guardian  of  the  Peace  (drawing  his  sword).  I  will  be  obeyed! 
I  denounce  you !  I  insist  upon  your  staying  your  progress ! 

Everyone.  Rubbish1 

Guardian  of  the  Peace.  Unless  you  submit  I  summon  the 
military!  In  the  name  of  the  law,  and  for  the  last  time,  I  order 
you  to  desist !  [The  Traffic  is  gradually  regulated. 

SECOND  METHOD.    I.x  LOM>ON. 
SCKSE— As  before,  and  characters  as  before,  subject  to  English  adaptation. 

Policeman  (raising  his  hand).  Hold  hard! 

[  The  Traffic  is  immediately  regulated. 


246 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  22,  1897. 


WITHERING. 

'Arry.  "I  S'Y— DOES  ONE  TIP  THE  WITERS  'ERE  ?  " 

Alphonse.  "Noi  ONLESS  YOU  ARE  REECHER  ZAN  ZE  VAITER,  SARE  ! " 


A  MORAL  FROM  MARPMANN. 

(To  Splenetic  Pens  dipped  in  Septic  Ink.) 

[Dr.  MARPMANN,  of  Leipzig,  has  recently  pub- 
lished the  results  of  the  microscopical  examination 
of  sixty-seven  samples  of  ink  used  in  schools. 
Most  or  them  were  made  with  gall-nuts,  and  con- 
tained saprophytes,  bacteria,  and  micrococci. 

Lancet. 1 
O  PEN  !  than  sword  more  mighty — 

Or  so  your  wielders  think — 
Be  not  too  hoighty-toighty ! 

To  impotence  you  'd  shrink, 
Futile  as  foolish-flighty, 
But  for  the  aid  of  Ink ! 

Those  sixty-seven  samples 
Instruction  may  impart, 


And  also  set  examples 
To  dogmatist  too  tart, 

The  critic  boar  who  tramples 
On  other  people's  Art. 

The  gall  they  make  the  basis 
Of  everything  they  write. 

Nature  hath  but  one  phasis, 
And  Art  one  only  light ; 

All  else  sheer  cranky  craze  is, 
They  sputter  in  their  spite. 

Bacteria  pathogenic 

Commingle  with  their  gall. 
The  simple  or  the  scenic 

Sets  them  at  once  a-squall ; 
The  subtle-stygian-splenic 

With  such  is  all  in  all. 


They  septicaemia  scatter, 

Ill-temper's  virus  spread. 
Their  ill-conditioned  clatter 

Dazes  the  public  head. 
They  blare,  and  bawl,  and  batter, 

They  deem  their  foes  are  dead. 

They  micrococci  mingle 

With  every  spleenful  phrase. 

Whether  in  prose  or  jingle, 
They  must  denounce,  dispraise  ; 

Till  honest  ears  will  tingle 
To  hear  their  blatant  brays. 

Their  "  nigrosin  bacillus  " 

(So  fatal  to  poor  mice), 
Though  worrying,  scarce  will  kill  us, 

But,  oh !  it  is  not  nice, 
And  with  disgust  must  fill  us. 

Smelfungus,  take  advice  I 

Ink-spilling  hath  its  virtue  ; 

There  's  power  in  the  pen  ; 
But  scribes  whose  aim  's  to  hurt  you 

'  (We  meet  such  now  and  then), 
With  septic  gall  to  squirt  you, 

Are  microbes  more  than  men  ! 


PUBLIC  THEATRICALS. 

HERB  is  a  proposal  for  a  Diamond 
Jubilee  Revival  of  The  School  for  Scandal 
at  the  Theatre  Royal,  St.  Stephen's,  West- 
minster, with  the  following  (fore)cast  :  — 

Sir  Peter  Teazle  .        .  Lord  S-L-SBVRY. 
Sir  Oliver  Surface         .  Duke  of  D-Y-NSH-HB. 
Sir  Benjamin  Backbite.  Mi.  J-HN  B-RNS. 

Sir 


Sir  Toby       . 
Joseph  Surface 
Charles  Surface 
Crabtree        . 
Careless        . 
Rowley         . 
Moses  .. 
Snake  .. 
Trip     .. 
Lady  Teazle. 
Lady  Sneerwell 
Mrs.  Candour 
Maria  .. 


.  Mr.  G-SCH-N. 

.  Mr.  L-B-CH-RB. 

.  Sir  W-LL-M  H-RC-RT. 

.  Mr.  DR-OE. 

.  Mr.  H-NKY  CH-VL-N. 

.  Mr.  ARTH-R  B-LF-R. 

.  Sir  S-M-L  M-NT-OU. 

.  Lord  K-MB-RL-Y. 

.  Mr.  G-HOE  C-HZ-N. 

.  Mr.  CH-MB-RL-N. 

.  Mr.  T.  G.  B-WL-S. 

.  Colonel  S-ND-RS-N. 

.  SirE.  ASHM-D-B-RTL-TT. 


The  entertainment  will  be  produced 
under  the  immediate  patronage  of  the 
South  Africa  Committee,  and  the  whole 
of  the  proceeds  devoted  to  the  relief  of 
the  Eastern  Question.  Copies  of  the  Play- 
bill obtainable  from  the  CH-NC-LL-R  OF  THE 
EXOH-Q-R,  who  has  kindly  undertaken  to 
direct  the  entire  stage  management. 
"  Gags  "  will  be  seen  and  approved  by  the 
L-RD  CH-NC-LI.-R  and  the  SP-K-B.  Dr. 
T-NN-R  and  the  Free  List  entirely  sus- 
pended. 

"Hoist  with  his  own  Petard." 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH,  —  I  am  exceedingly 
pleased  to  note  that  President  KRDGER  is 
importing  German  war  material  into  the 
Transvaal,  because  the  quality  of  those 
manufactures  has  been  ascertained, 
weighed  and  gauged  for  some  time  past. 
But  I  sincerely  trust  that  the  excellent 
grandfather  of  Lieutenant  EYLOFF  has 
not,  as  is  reported,  succeeded  in  ordering 
rifles  and  revolvers  from  Birmingham,  for 
this  commission  would  cast  a  shell  into 
the  country  of  President  CHAMBERLAIN. 
The  only  retort  possible  would  be  for  the 
Colonial  Secretary  to  ask  for  the  purchase 
of  the  Teutonic  fireworks  in  order  to  be 
used  on  Queen's  Day.  Believing  them  to 
be  guaranteed  harmless, 

I  am,  yours  patriotically, 

EBENEZER  CHALKER. 


PUNCH,    OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— MAT  22,  1897. 


"MY  FBIEND-THE  ENEMY! 


GREECE  (acknowledging  defeat).    "  MY    MISTAKE,    SIB." 

JUBILANT  SULTAN.   "  NOT  AT  ALL !     EXTREMELY  INDEBIED  TO  YOU !    YOU  'VE  QUITE  SEI  MB  ON 
MY  LEGS  AGAIN!" 


MAT  22,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


249 


"  'Ow   MUCH   DO   you    CHAKliK    KOU    PULLING  OUT  A  TOOTH,    YOUNG 

MAN?"        "Ous  SHILLING,— AND  FIVE  SHILLINGS  WITH  GAS." 

"Firs  SHILLINGS  WITH  G  s  !    THEN  I  'LL  COME  AGAIN  TO-MOBBOW, 
WHBN  IT  'a  DAYLIGHT  ! " 


THE  LADY  CRICKETER. 

(Directions  for  attaining  Perfection. ) 

GET  up  a  match  by  saying  to  some  local  subaltern  that  it  would 
be  such  fun  to  have  a  game,  and  you  know  a  girl  who  could  give 
points  to  GRACE. 

Agree  with  the  youthful  warrior  that  the  fun  would  be  in- 
creased by  allowing  the  men  to  play  with  broom-sticks,  and  left- 
handed,  and  the  girls,  of  course,  with  bats,  and  unrestricted. 

Arrange  your  eleven  in  such  a  fashion  that  you  come  out  as 
captain  in  the  most  picturesque  costume. 

Be  careful  to  "  kill "  your  colleagues'  appearance  by  an  artful 
combination  of  discordant  hues. 

Carry  out  the  above  scheme  with  the  assistance  of  a  joint 
committee  consisting  of  two,  yourself,  and  the  local  subaltern. 

Arrange,  at  the  last  moment,  that  the  men  shall  only  send  out 
six  of  their  team  to  field. 

Manage  to  put  yourself  in  first,  and  play  with  confidence  the 
initial  ball. 

Amidst  the  applause  of  the  six  fielders  you  will  be  clean 
bowled. 

Retire  gracefully,  and  devote  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  to  tea 
and  mild  flirtation  with  the  five  men  who  have  been  weeded  out. 


THINGS  NOT  TO  BE  SAID. 
(Compiled  from  a  popular  Book  of  Etiquette. ) 

To  a  Wearer  of  the  Victoria  Cross. — I  am  sure  you  must 
have  done  something  brave  or  they  would  never  have  given  it. 

To  an.  Eminent  Q.C. — I  am  certain  you  will  dissuade  my  boy 
from  going  to  the  Bar,  for  you  know  that  it  never  leads  to  a 
really  satisfactory  income. 

To  a  Distinguished  General  (Royal  Engineers). — How  nice  to 
have  risen  so  quickly  and  so  well.  But  I  always  thought  sappers 
only  built  offices  and  surveyed  roads. 

To  Mr.  Gl-dst-ne. — I  rwilly  must  take  away  your  post-cards, 
and  forbid  you  to  speak  about  Greece. 

To  the  G-r-m-n  Emp-r-r. — No  doubt  plenty  to  say  for  your- 
self, but  hope  you  won't  think  it  rude  if  I  hint  that  I  would  like 
to  listen  to  someone  else. 

And  lastly,  to  Mr.  P-nch  (most  important  of  all). — Such  a 
clever  anecdote  about  my  little  boy !  He  is  only  four !  I  will  tell 
you  the  story,  and  you  can  put  it  in  your  paper  to-morrow. 


TRUE  GENIUS. 

(A  ittyhtly  Anticipatory  Interview.) 

FEELING  sure  that  some  account  of  the  life  of  Mr.  WILLIAM 
BROWN,  the  well-known  non-writer,  could  not  fail  to  interest 
the  public,  I  called  upon  that  gentleman  a  few  days  ago  in  hi* 
delightful  London  house. 

It  is,  as  I  need  hardly  remind  the  reader,  Mr.  BROWN'S  proud 
distinction  that  throughout  the  sixty  years  of  his  well-spent  life 
he  not  only  has  never  written  a  book,  but  has  not  even  con- 
tributed a  single  article  to  any  magazine.     Among  the  exceed- 
ingly few  non-writers  of  the  present  day,  then-  is  no  name  more 
•tfiitlv  absent  from  the  publishers'  lists  than  his,  and  'tis 
ratifying  to  know  that  his  success  in  this  direction  has  gained 
tor  him  the  grateful  recognition  of  the  public. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  after  our  preliminary  greetings  had  been  ex- 
changed), "  I  may  say,  without  boasting,  that  my  position  has 
only  bffii  gained  after  many  years  of  patient  struggle.  Never 
•  •;m  I  forget  what  I  owe  to  the  early  discouragement  given  me 
by  my  dear  father.  On  one  occasion  he  heard  me  explaining 
to  a  friend  the  plot  of  a  story  which" — and  the  recollection 
made  Mr.  BROWN  blush — "  I  fully  intended  to  write.  His  forcible 
entreaties  that  I  should  not  do  so — be  used  a  hunting-crop,  I 
remember— brought  tears  to  my  eyes,  and  I  promised  Turn 
solemnly  never  to  scribble  even  an  article  for  an  Encyclopaedia. 
That  promise,"  he  added  proudly,  "  I  have  never  broken." 

"But  the  temptation  to  do  so  must  have  been  awful  at 
times?"  I  asked. 

"  Terrible,"  he  replied ;  "  and  even  now  it  has  not  altogether 
.eft  me.  My  worst  dream  is  that  I  have  actually  given  way,  and 
[  fancy  in  my  sleep  that  I  see  two  large  volumes  on  a  table,  with 
Che.  lif  collect  ions  of  William  Jirown  in  gilt  letters  on  the  back. 
And  how  often,  half  unconsciously,  have  I  found  myself  seated 
.it  the  table,  the  pen  already  in  my  hand,  just  about  to  begin  a 
•v-nteh  novel  or  an  article  on  'the  Present  Want  of  Manners' 
for  the  Nineteenth  Century  !  But — not  without  a  fierce  struggle 
— I  have  invariably  overcome  the  unmanly  weakness." 

"  And,  if  the  question  is  not  an  impertinent  one,  may  I  ask 
whether  non-writing  is  a  lucrative  profession  ?  "  I  inquired. 

"Certainly  not,"  he  answered,  "if  one  takes  into  account  the 
years  of  preliminary  struggle  that  are  requisite  for  success  in  it. 
Of  course  I  have  not  been  entirely  without  any  reward.  That 
plate,"  he  pointed  to  the  magnificent  service  on  a  sideboard, 
"  was  presented  to  me  by  a  dozen  leading  editors  in  consideration 
of  the  fact  that  I  had  never  sent  them  MS.  A  well-known  pub- 
lisher, who  had  been  misled  into  thinking  that  my  years  of 
silence  were  due  to  the  fact  that  I  was  preparing  a  History  of 
Mankind  in  fourteen  volumes,  which  would  ultimately  be  sent 
to  him,  was  so  gratified  on  learning  the  truth,  that  he  rewarded 
me  with  the  freehold  of  this  house.  Best  of  all,  of  course,  is  the 
knowledge  that  the  public  regard  me  aa  their  truest  friend, 
•since  to  me  alone  can  they  always  look  for  consistent  silence. 
How  many  letters  of  thanks  have  I  received  for  the  books  which 
I  have  not  written !  " 

"And  what,  may  I  ask,  in  conclusion,  is  your  advice  to  the 
ispiring  non-writer?  " 

He  cannot  begin  too  young,"  said  Mr.  BROWN,  earnestly. 
"  It  might  he  well  wholly  to  neglect  his  education,  but  this  well- 
meant  step  has  proved  to  increase  the  number  of  writers  rathei 
than  to  lessen  it.  Of  course  every  assistance  must  be  given  to 
the  young  non-writer ;  the  illustrated  papers  with  their  insidious 
panegyrics  of  authors  and  advertisements  of  their  works  must  be 
kept  out  of  his  way.  Every  effort  should  be  made  to  make  him 
swallow  the  old  Grub  Street  legend.  Any  kind  of  indulgence  is 
worse  than  useless.  He  may  promise  never  to  go  beyond  a 
paragraph,  but  having  once  tasted  ink,  be  will  go  on  the  steady 
downward  path — he  will  write  leaderettes,  which  will  become 
leaders,  then  magazine  articles,  and  so  will  find  himself  the 
author  of  a  novel  or  a  biography  before  he  realises  that  he  has 
begun  to  write.  Therefore  parents  should  be  very  firm — much 
may  be  done  by  cruelty.  And  after  all,  how  great  will  be  the 
distinction  of  their  children  if  they  go  through  youth  and  age 
without  adding  by  a  single  line  to  the  Pest  of  Print  which 
afflicts  our  unhappy  country ! " 

Perhaps  an  Unconscious   Speaker  of  the   Truth. 

The  Vicar  (to  Coastgvardsman) .  Ah,  good  evening,  HOOKER! 
I  understand  that  you  Ve  been  to  the  Levant  in  the  course  of 
your  career.  Now,  what 's  vour  opinion  about  the  difference 
between  the  Greeks  and  the  Turks  ? 

Hooker.  Lor1  bless  ye,  Sir,  there  ain't  no  difference.  Take 
my  word  for  it,  Sir,  it's  six  o'  one  and  half  a  dozen  o'  t'other; 
and  a  precious  good  job  'twill  be  when  the  whole  twelve  is 
wiped  out  I 


250 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAT  22,  1897. 


FLAG    WAGGING. 

Sergeant  of  Signallers.   "  WHAT  AILS  MURPHY  TO-DAY  ?     HE  DON'T  SEEM  ABLE  TO  TAKE 
IN  A  THING  !  " 

Private  Mulvaney,   "SHALL  I  SIGNAL  TO  'IM,   'WiLL  YE  'AVE  A  DRINK'?" 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Betrothed,  Cavalier  replies  to  his  Inamorata, 
who  lias  addressed  certain  reproaches  to  him. 

AM  I  to  blame  because  you  chose 

To  wear  a  robe  of  doubtful  blue, 
Amid  a  crowd  of  cruel  foes, 

Who  'd  dresses  donned  of  brighter  hue  ? 
I  quite  allotv  I  said  that  tint 

Would  other  colours  put  to  shame — 
You  didn't  quite  take  up  my  hint — 

Am  I  to  blame  ?    Am  I  to  blame  ? 

Am  I  to  blame  because  your  friend, 

The  Captain  with  the  vacant  laugh, 
Those  theatre  tickets  didn't  send, 

Nor  made  amends  by  telegraph  ? 
I  must  admit  I  said  the  piece 

Was  weary,  wicked,  bad,  and  lame, 
Not  one  to  which  I  'd  take  my  niece — 

Am  I  to  blame  ?    Am  I  to  blame  ? 

Am  I  to  blame  by  reason  that 

You  cut  Lord  TOWZER  in  the  Row  ? 

He  was  about  to  raise  his  hat ; 
You  didn't  bow  to  him,  I  know. 


Am  I,  when  walking  by  your  side, 
To  note  each  personage  of  fame, 

A  sort  of  Piccadilly  guide  ? — 

Am  I  to  blame  ?     Am  I  to  blame  ? 

Am  I  to  blame  because  you  try 

To  prate  of  politics,  as  though 
You  had  your  Ministerial  eye 

Upon  an  Opposition  blow  ? 
Whereas — and  here  again  I  err — 

You're  just  a  pretty  Primrose  Dame. 
If  to  your  logic  I  demur, 

Am  I  to  blame  ?    Am  I  to  blame  ? 

Am  I  to  blame  because  I  know 

Your  foibles  I  may  not  deride ; 
Like  thorns  that  will  by  roses  grow, 

They  point  the  fragrant  bloom  beside. 
So,  if  my  love  for  you  is  sure, 

And  proof  against  all  other  flame, 
To  burn  for  ever  and  endure — • 

Am  I  to  blame  ?    Am  I  to  blame  ? 


ALL  THAT  THE  GREEKS  HAVE  CONSTANTLY 

BEATEN  DURING  THE  WAR. — A  retreat. 


A  (DOUGLAS)  STRAIGHT  TIP. 

THE  Montagu  Williams  Clothing  Fund  " 
In  need  of  aid  ?    In  a  voice  rotund 
(To  reach  all  round),  Punch  makes  appeal 
To  all  who  remember,  and  all  who  feel. 
All  who  remember  a  model  "  Beak," 
All  who  to  aid  the  suffering  seek, 
WILLIAMS  to  honour,  the  poor  to  cheer, 
Should  send  a  cheque  in  this  Jubilee  Year 
To     HADEN     CORSEB  ;     whilst     DOUGLAS 

STRAIGHT 

Of  left-off  clothes  will  direct  the  fate. 
Here 's  a  chance  for  a  generous  chap  I 
Punch  recommends  it.  Verbum  sap.  I 

%*  Subscriptions  may  be  sent  by  cheques  pay- 
able to  "  HADEN  CORSEK,  Esq.,  or  order,"  and 
crossed  "Account  Montagu  Williams  Clothing 
Fund,"  and  addressed  "  The  Magistrate,  Police- 
Court,  Worship  Street,  E.C.,"  whilst  articles  of 
clothing  can  be  forwarded  to  the  dep6t  built  by 
Sir  DOUGLAS  STRAIGHT,  at  20,  Albion  Eoad, 
Dalston,  N.E. 


A  Manns  a  Manns   for  a'   that — 
he  's  done  ! 

THERE  is  an  ardent,  talented,  silver- 
haired  Master  of  Music,  who  for  many 
years  has  been  in.  command  of  the  vocal 
and  instrumental  forces  at  the  Crystal 
Palace.  He  is  just  about  to  gather  round 
him  the  three  or  four  thousand  performers, 
who  every  three  years  do,  under  the  baton 
of  Field-Marshal  MANNS,  gallant  tribute  to 
the  melody  and  grandeur  of  the  immortal 
HANDEL.  When  knighthoods  are  being 
bestowed,  it  will  be  well  to  remember  that 
if  ever  man  deserved  a  "handle  to  his 
name,"  it  is  this  Handelian  MANNS. 


Muzzle  and  Gag-. 

THE  thought  of  tyrants  two  the  anger  stirs 

Of  a  dog-lover,  or  Superior  Person  ; 
The  chap  who  'd  clap  a  muzzle  on  our  curs, 
The  other  who  would  muzzle  our  own 

CCTRZON. 
The    tyke-tormentor's    bad    enough,    but 

how 

Punish  the  churl  who  'd  gag  the  Big  Bow- 
Wow? 

POP  FOK  THE  POPULATION  ! — According 
to  a  recent  calculation,  there  is  a  suffi- 
cient supply  of  champagne  this  year  to 
give  to  everybody,  that  is,  to  our  thirty- 
eight  or  forty  millions,  three-quarters  of 
a  bottle  to  every  individual,  man,  woman, 
and  child.  And  after  this,  there  will  be 
fifty-six  million  bottles  (full,  barring 
ullage)  left  in  stock  for  all  Europe  :  that 
is,  just  about  four  bottles  a-piece  to  go  on 
with.  What  a  chance  for  a  few  millionaires 
to  club  together  at  Jubilee  time,  and  stand 
champagne  all  round  the  British  Isles! 


One  Way  or  Looking'  at  it. 

Young  Larkspur  (cheerfully,  at  the  Club, 
to  Mr.  MANTYS-KAKONE)  .  Well,  there'll  be 
plenty  of  jollification  during  the  Season. 
Heaps  of  money  spent  over  the  Jubilee 
this  year! 

Mr.  Mantys_- Kakone  (gloomily).  Pro- 
bably. But  think  of  the  workhouses  and 
the  rates  next  year,  young  man  1 


A  SEA  SIMILE. — According  to  Mr.  BAY- 
LEY'S  evidence  before  the  Life  Boat 
Inquiry  Commission,  the  "self-righting" 
boat  is  not  unlike  those  "  unco'  guid  "  or 
"  self-righteous  "  persons,  who  are  "  a  most 
dangerous  type,"  easily  upset,  and  "  not  to 
be  depended  upon  to  right  themselves." 


MAT  22,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


251 


ESSENCE    OF   PARLIAMENT. 

TKII     1  KOM     TUB     DlAHY    Of    ToBY,    M.P. 


.  of  Commons,  Monday.  May  10.  — 
Since  the  Session  opened  the  lot  of  JOHN 
o"  OORST  has  not  boen  entirely  a  happy 
mil'.  Hut  it  is  a  little  too  much  that  in  a 
moderately  full  House,  in  (lie  presence  of 
an  acquiescing  SPEAKER,  he  should  be 
Imilcd  by  the  son  of  the  I'IIIMB  MINISTER 
:i  the  very  D  -  -  himself.  Of  course 
HUGH  CECIL  couldn't  fill  in  the  letters  and 
pronounce  the  word  as  spelt  in  the  New 
Oxford  Dictionary.  What  he  did  was  to 
drop  —  or  rather  to  soar  —  into  poetry. 

The  regrettable  incident  happened  in 
Committee  on  Necessitous  School  Boards 
Bill.  CRAMIORNB  wanted  to  put  fresh 
spoko  in  wheels  of  School  Boards.  JOHN 
D'  Const  said  thn  Committee  of  the  Privy 
Council  could  not  sanction  the  new  Clause 
presented  with  that  intent.  Then  up  gat 
the  gaunt  figure  of  brother  HUGH.  Wring- 
ing his  hands  with  passionate  energy, 
turning  flaming  eyes  on  the  placid  figure 
seated  solitary  on  Treasury  Bench,  HUGH 
apostrophised  him  as  "  Lucifer,  son  of  the 
morning,"  and  lamented  his  abyssmal  fall. 

Of  course  everyone  remembers  Lucifer 
in  what  is  probably  the  earliest  article  of 
the  now  familiar  series,  "Celebrities  at 
Home."  DANTE  visiting  him  chez  lui  de- 
scribes the  host  as  a  three-faced  giant. 
One  face,  he  adds,  is  yellow,  a  hue  as- 
sumed when  envy  fills  his  breast.  Red  he 
flames  when  wrathful,  black  when  melan- 
choly. "  At  six  eyes  he  wept,"  whereas 
the  visitor  could  do  it  only  with  two  ;  at 
"every  mouth  he  champed  a  sinner." 


i  iug  Sir  J.  Uorst  to  "  Lucifer,  Son  of  the 
Morning  " ! 

Lord  H-gh  C-c-1. 


Now,  is  that  what  Lord  HITCH  CECIL 
meant,  or  had  he  in  his  mind  some  milder 
vision  more  applicable  to  the  repository  ot 
the  confidences,  the  reflector  of  the  dignity, 
of  the  Privy  Council  ?  At  best  the  remark 
•eems  unparliamentary.  That  it  should 
have  escaped  rebuke  at  the  hands  of  an 
exceedingly  watchful  SPF.AKKR  only  adds  to 
the  regret  f;iMem>ss  of  the  incident.  Jom« 
o'  GORST  took  no  notice  at  the  moment. 
A  little  later  lie  lived  at  least  halfway 
up  to  the  picture,  with  one  mouth  champ- 
ing three  sinners — CRANBORNR,  brother 
HUGH,  and  J.  G.  TAI.BOT,  who,  with  most 
melancholy  mien,  supported  the  new 
Clause. 

Business  done. — Necessitous  Board  School 
Bill  through  Committee.' 

Tuesday. — RAHCII,  with  characteristic 
boldness,  attempted  to  make  a  House  after 
morning  sitting.  Positively  succeeded, 
and  after  brief  debate,  induced  House  to 
pass  resolution  affirming  that  "The  dura- 
tion of  speeches  in  this  House  has  in- 
creased, is  increasing,  and  ought  to  be 
abated."  CALDWELL,  who  has  strong  views 
on  the  subject,  wanted  to  second  resolu- 
tion. But  RADCLIFFE  COOKB  had  already 
volunteered.  House  regretted  lost  oppor- 
tunity of  hearing  CALDWELL:  rewarded  by 
delightful  incident  in  connection  with  RAD- 
CLIFFB COOKI'S  speech.  So  righteously 
eager  for  brevity  was  he  that  he  went  on 
and  on  till  Members  at  length  could  stand 
no  more.  Angry  shouts  of  "Divide! 
divide !  "  cooked  RADCLIFFB'S  goose,  or,  to 
drop  metaphor,  shut  him  up. 

Nearly  everyone  on  RASCH'B  side.  R.  O. 
WEBSTER  specially  convincing.  On  divi- 


PRACTISING  THE  NEW  "ONE-LEO"  SYSTEM  FOE  ENSURING  BREVITY  IN  SPEECHES!    (See  Essence.) 
[We  understand  that  Major  R-sch,  after  the  above  experiment  in  a  secluded  corridor  of  the  House,  expressed  his  entire  approval.] 


sion,  86  voted  for  short  speeches,  24  for 
long  ones. 

Debate  interesting,  but  offered  no 
practical  solution  of  the  question. 
H.  M.  STANLEY  tells  me  of  expenence  he 
had  in  Central  Africa  which  he  forgot  to 
mention  in  any  of  his  books.  He  came 


upon  a  tribe  whose  affairs  of  State  were 
administered  by  a  council  meeting  once 
a  week.  Some  of  the  members  developed 
inconvenient  tendency  to  making  long 
speeches.  Efforts  made  to  check  it  by  the 
flinging  of  friendly  assegais  gave  only  tem- 
porary relief.  The  orator,  thus  inter- 


rupted, never  spoke  again,  but  somebody 
else  took  up  the  story,  and  the  number  of 
the  tribe  steadily  decreased. 

An  old  Brave  having  passed  a  restless 
night  thinking  over  the  difficulty,  had  a 
happy  idea  that  was  instantly  adopted.  At 
the  time  of  STANLEY'S  visit  it  was  the  cus- 


252 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAT  22,  1897. 


MADE    IN    GERMANY." 

'  SHTOP  !    SHTOP  !    I  AM  UNLEVEL  !    I  COME  FOR  SURE  DOWN  !  " 


torn  for  any  member  addressing  the  coun- 
cil to  stand  on  one  leg.  When,  through 
fatigue,  he  touched  the  ground,  even  with 
the  toe  of  his  other  foot,  his  speech  was 
peremptorily  ended.  The  plan  has  the 
further  advantage  that  even  in  the  case-  of 
peculiarly  gifted  men,  able  by  practice  to 
stand  a  long  time  on  one  foot,  a  gentle 
nudge  will  upset  their  equilibrium,  and 
bring  their  speech  to  a  conclusion.  Next 
time  reform  of  Parliamentary  procedure  is 
discussed  in  the  Commons  it  might  be 
worth  while  to  consider  this  device  of  the 
simple  African. 

Business  done. — A  good  deal  at  the 
morning  sitting. 

Thursday. — Will  back  DON  Jos£  to 
rouse  House  of  Commons  from  whatever 
depth  of  depression.  To-night,  up  to  ten 
o'clock,  debate  fluttered  round  proposal  to 
read  second  time  Bill  prohibiting  importa- 
tion of  foreign  prison-made  goods.  The 
level  flow  of  talk  varied  by  vigorous  de- 
nunciation of  Bill  by  DALZIEL  ;  far  away 
the  best  speech  he  has  made  since  he  came 
from  Kirkcaldy.  House  nearly  empty 
when  DON  Jpsfi  rose.  With  that  curious 
instinct  which  draws  Members  when 
sport  is  to  the  fore,  the  benches  swiftly, 
silently  filled,  till,  before  he  had  talked 
fifteen  minutes,  scene  was  changed  to  one 
of  seething  excitement,  cheers  and  coun- 
ter-cheers ringing  across  the  floor. 

It  is  the  old  story  of  circumstances 
altering  DON  JOSE'S  case.  "An  admirable 
exhibition  of  political  agility,"  BRYCB  de- 
scribed the  speech,  he  himself  happily 
inspired  with  unprofessorial  vigour.  As  for 
HONEST  JOHN,  he  sat  on  the  front  bench, 
watching  his  old  friend  and  colleague  with 
half-amused  smile,  his  eyes  twinkling  at 
the.  enthusiastic  cheers  with  which  the 
Tories  applauded  their  old  foeman. 

"  What  were  you  thinking  about  ? "  I 
asked  him  as  we  went  out  to  the  division 
lobby. 


"  I  was  thinking,"  said  HONEST  JOHN, 
"  how  true  it  is  that  the  poet  is  a  seer. 
PRABD  has  been  dead  these  sixty  years. 
But  there  are  some  lines  of  his  about 
JOHN  CAM  HOBHOUSE  which,  with  the  alte- 
ration of  a  proper  name,  might  have  been 
written  this  morning.  They  often  come 
to  my  mind  when  I  sit  here  and  listen  to 
my  friend  and  companion  dear  of  1880-5. 

We  were  patriots  together!    Oh,  placeman  and 
peer 

Are  the  patrons  who  smile  on  your  labours  to- 
day; 
And  Lords  of  the  Treasury  lustily  cheer 

Whatever  you  do  and  whatever  you  say. 
Go,  pocket,  my  JOSEPH,  as  much  as  you  will, 

The  times  are  quite  altered,  we  very  well  know  : 
But  will  you  not,  will  you  not,  talk  to  us  still, 

As  you  talked  to  us  once,  long  ago,  long  ago  ?  " 

Business  done. — Prison-made  Goods  Bill 
read  second  time  by  221  votes  against  90. 

Friday. — DARLING,  Q.C.,  nearest  ap- 
proach to  the  Fat  Boy  present  Parliament 
produces,  going  about  making  our  flesh 
creep  with  stories  of  Apparitions.  Heard 
a  good  deal  at  time  of  General  Election 
about  One  Man  One  Vote.  Now  we  have 
detailed  accounts  of  One  Member  Two 
Bodies.  The  scare  began  with  M'DER- 
MOTT,  who  makes  oath  and  saith,  that  on 
an  hour  and  a  day  when  TAY  PAT  in  the 
flesh  (such  of  it  as  there  is)  was  in  Athlone, 
he  (the  deponent)  coming  in  after  dinner, 
saw  and  spoke  to  the  hon.  Member  in  the 
House  of  Commons. 

That  of  itself  is  not  extraordinary. 
There  is  a  well-authenticated  case,  cele- 
brated in  familiar  verse,  where  a  great 
statesman,  seated  one  evening  about  the 
same  hour  on  the  Treasury  Bench,  saw  two 
Speakers  in  the  Chair.  The  serious  part 
of  the  business  lies  in  the  fearsome  open- 
ing; up  of  possibilities.  If  some  Members 
of  present  House  are  to  enjoy  a  dual 
existence,  when  absent  with  their  consti- 
tuents are  to  be  present  in  the  House,  life 
at  Westminster  will  not  be  worth  living. 


The  influence  of  the  epidemic  is  shewn 
in  the  case  of  DARLING,  Q.C. ,  alluded  to. 
He  tells  me  that  at  ten  minutes  to  seven 
to-night  he  saw  the  Member  for  Sark 
standing  behind  the  SPEAKER'S  chair 
paring  his  nails, 

" '  As  you  are  paring,'  I  said  to  him  in 
my  genial  way  "  (this  an  extract  from  DAR- 
LING, Q.C.'s  deposition),  "'will  you  pair 
with  me  for  the  dinner  hour?'"  "The 
hon.  Member,"  deponent  further  depo- 
neth,  "started,  looked  me  straight  in  the 
eyes,  and  went  on  cutting  his  nails,  just 
as  CHARLOTTE,  when  WERTHER  first  saw 
her,  went  on  cutting  bread  and  butter." 

DARLING,  Q.C.,  we  all  know  as  a  man  of 
high  probity,  serious  mind,  profound  legal 
erudition,  long  familiarity  with  the  laws  of 
evidence. 

Yet  I  have  the  very  best  reason  to  know 
that  the  Member  for  Sark  has  not  been  in 
the  House  of  Commons  to-night. 

Business  done. — Appointment  announced 
of  new  Commission  to  inquire  into  opera- 
tion of  Irish  Land  Commission.  "Piling 
Pelion  upon  Ossa,"  says  TIM  HEALT, 
bitterly.  

THE  PUZ7LE  PICTURE  CURSE. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — Will  you  strenuously 
exert  your  unbounded  influence  against 
the  spread  of  the  terrible  plague  known  as 
the  Puzzle  Picture  Disease  ?  The  Acrostic 
Fever  was  bad  enough  at  its  height,  but 
the  present  malevolent  malady  is  assuredly 
assuming  deadly  proportions,  which  will 
drive  many  unassuming  citizens,  such  as 
myself,  into  those  Asylums  usually  associ- 
ated with  permanent  or  temporary  aberra- 
tions of  wit.  I  cannot  take  my  walk  at 
home  or  abroad  without  some  dame  or 
damsol,  some  adult  or  youth,  producing 
from  her  or  his  pocket  a  sheet  of  printed 
paper  covered  with  strange  devices,  and 
inquiring  whether  I  would  kindly  state 
what  well-known  personage  a  lucifer  match 
in  a  donkey's  mouth,  or  a  balloon  sailing 
on  the  sea,  or  some  equally  idiotic  delinea- 
tion represents?  Hating  mysteries,  picto- 
rial or  otherwise,  I  generally  return  evasive 
answers,  and  the  consequence  is,  that  I 
have  broken  off  my  approaching  marriage 
(because  I  could  not  inform  my  intended 
bride  what  the  Mephistophelean  delineator 
meant  by  a  hippopotamus  waltzing  with  a 
ballet  dancer) .  I  have  also  been  wiped  out 
of  the  will  of  my  rich  uncle  (by  reason  that 
I  differed  with  him  as  to  the  signification 
of  a  locomotive  apparently  running  a  race 
with  a  giraffe)  ;  and  I  have  quarrelled  with 
my  old  chum,  HARRY  HOGGINSON,  in  that, 
quite  in  chaff,  I  gave  him  the  correct  defini- 
tion of  a  cut  showing  a  boa  constrictor 
consuming  a  cathedral,  which  solution  he 
did  not  use.  I  therefore  beg  to  announce 
that  in  future  I  shall  be  deaf  to  all  in- 
quiries so  far  as  ladies  are  concerned,  and 
that  if  any  one  of  my  own  sex  torment 
me,  I  shall  give  him  an  illustration  of 
your  Noble  Self,  a  Hostelry  and  an  Optic, 
right  or  left  as  opportunity  may  allow. 
Yours  morbidly,  but  pugilistically, 

DIONYSITTS  DRIPPING. 
Beading  Room,  British  Museum,  W.C. 


The   Latest  Expression  at  Eton. 

Deadly  Foe  (shouting  to  enemy  whn  is 
vanishing  down  Keates  Lane).  Hi!  What 
arc  you  Greeking  for  ?  Take  a  licking,  and 
I  sha'n't  Turk  you  any  more ! 


MAT  29,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONIX'X    rH.MIFVARI. 


253 


OUR    FLAT. 

f.'j-t  rod  from  Lady's  Correspondence:  " In  FACT,  OUR  RECEPTION  WAS  A  COMPLSTK  SUCCESS.     WE  HAD  SOME  EXCELLENT  MUSI- 
CIANS.     I   DARESAY  YOU  WILL   WONDER   WHERE   WE  PUT  THEM,    WITH   SUCH   A   CROWD   OF  PEOPLE;   BUT  WE   MANAGED   OAFlt&LL  Y !  " 


WHAT  TO  DO  WITH  OUR  DAUGHTERS. 

ACCORDING  to  the  Daily  Telegraph,  Mrs.  WTNFOBD  PHILIPPS, 
founder  of  the  Women's  Institute,  states  that  a  comfortable  living 
may  be  secured  hy  ladies,  who  adopt  the  profession  of  dog-walk- 
ing, i.e.,  taking  the  domestic  pete  of  their  clients  out  for  daily 
exercise  and  air.  We  have  much  pleasure  in.  giving  publicity  to 
the  following  advertisements  just  received  :  — 

SITUATIONS  VACANT. 

WANTED,  Young  Lady,  of  Prepossessing  Appearancet  to  act  as 
NURSERY  DOO-WALKEE  to  Fox-terrier  Puppies,  occasionally  ac- 
companied by  Owner.  Highest  references  and  photo  required. 
Must  be  able  to  play  piano,  sing,  cook,  do  needlework,  and  speak 
at  least  four  foreign  languages.  Apply  to  BENEDICT.  No.  1, 
The  Flats,  Barking. 

GENTLEWOMAN  (middle-aged),  of  Sound  Principles  and  Moderate 
Views,  required  as  DAILY  COMPANION  to  Invalid  Collie.  One 
Sunday  in  the  Month  free.  Duties  would  include  use  of  soft- 
soap,  combing,  and  cat-shooing.  Send  dated  testimonials  to 
HOUSEKEEPER,  10,  Fleabitten  Row,  Houndsditch. 

GOVERNESS  (Finishing),  who  has  had  Previous  Experience  in 
Dog-walking,  WANTED  immediately,  to  superintend  the  educa- 
tion of  high-spirited  TOY  TERRIER.  Will  be  required  to  pay 
special  attention  to  Deportment,  and  Behaviour  in  the  Park,  or 
out  Driving.  Sympathetic  Treatment  and  Tact  indispensable. 
Address  X.,  The  Ladies'  Kennel  Club. 

SITUATIONS  REQUIRED. 

STRICT  DISCIPLINARIAN,  accustomed  to  the  use  of  the  Whip 
and  Muzzle,  is  at  present  Disengaged.  Will  accept  Visiting  or 
Resident  appointment.  Method  never  known  to  fail  with  the 
most  Rabid  or  Refractory  Pupils. 

HOLIDAY  for  thirteen  guineas  I  Personally-conducted  Canine 
Travelling  Parties  now  being  formed,  under  Supervision  of  Ex- 
perienced LADY-GUIDB.  All  parts  of  the  East  End  and  Belgravia 
visited.  Street^fights  arranged.  Bull-dogs  and  Bloodhounds  on 
reduced  Terms.  Lectures  given  (with  demonstration)  in  course  of 
the  Tour,  to  Butcher-boys,  Postmen,  and  others.  Unrivalled 
Opportunity  for  CO-OPERATIVB  EDUCATION. 

Y  OUNO  W  IDOW,  good  looking,  without  encumbrance,  and  with 
a  moderate  Income  of  her  own,  is  anxious  to  adopt  PUPPY. 
Is  a  Member  of  the  Dogs'  Toilet  Club.  Can  teach  Music,  French, 
and  Dancing.  Has  a  loving  heart,  and  would  travel  with  any 
Dear  Creature. 

VOL.  cm,  z 


THE  RUDDY  YOUNG  SLAUGHTERMAN. 

C"  Life  U  forced  to  believe  that  within  a  year  the  reading  public  will  be  to 
sick  of  'Blujrgy*  fiction  that  they  won't  look  at  it."— "  Vroch "  in  JV«w 

Air— "  The  Jolly  Young  Waterman." 
AND  have  you  not  heard  of  the  ruddy  young  slaughterman, 

Who  in  our  notion  his  axe  used  to  ply  ? 
He  handled  its  edge  with  such  fiendish  dexterity, 

Sticking  its  "  beak  "  in  the  enemy's  eye. 
He  looked  so  fierce,  and  slew  so  steadily, 
The  foemen  went  down  in  his  path  so  readily ! 
And  he  eyed  the  young  braves  with  so  awful  an  air 
That  this  slaughterman  always  established  a  scare. 
What  sights  of  sheer  bloodshed  he  managed  when  merry, 

With     smelling  out "  witches  his  tale  could  appal ; 
He  was  always  "so  nice"  with  the  Library  ladies, 

Who  like  something  "bluggy"  and  "terribly  tall." 
Though  oft-times  the  critics  came  carping  and  sneering, 
'Twas  all  one  to  him  their  jibing  or  jeering ; 
For  critical  liking  he  little  did  care, 

Whilst  our  slaughterman  captured  the  youthful  and  fair. 
And  yet  but  to.  think,  now,  now  strangely  things  happen, — 

As  he  wrote  along  thinking  of — nothing  at  nil, 
A  change  in  the  fashion  came  in  without  warning, 

And     blugginess"  found  in  the  market  a  fall. 
And  would  this  young  writer  but  banish  his  sorrow, 
He  must  chuck  up  sheer  gore,  and  try  nature  to-morrow. 
For  how  will  our  ruddy  young  slaughterman  fare. 
If  dropped  by  the  young  and  tabooed  by  the  fair  ? 

The  Queen's  Highway. 

Infuriated  Cyclilt  (after  a  collision  ivith  a  fast-trotting  dog-cart). 
I  shall  summon  you  to-morrow !  I  've  as  much  right  on  the  road 
as  you,  Jehu ! 

Irate  Ihiver.  And  I  shall  summon  you  !  This  thoroughfare's 
mine  as  well  as  yours,  let  me  tell  you.  Scorcher  ! 

Pedestrian  (who  hat  bftn  nearly  killed  by  the  colliiion,  and  it 
lying  prostrate  after  leinr/  cannoned  on  to  the  path,  very  feebly).  And 
what  about  me,  gentlemen  ?  Have  I  any  right  of  way  ? 

SENTIMENT  FOR  A  CRICKET  CLUB  DINNER. — May  the  British 
Umpire  rule  the  wide  world  over. 


254 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  29,  1897. 


QUITE    ARCADIAN. 

Lobby  Lubin  (to  Chamberlain  Colin).  "TELL  ME,  SHEPHERD,  HAVE  YOU  SEEN  MY  FLORA  PASS  THIS  WAY{J 
Message  from  Dr.  Har*-ii  to  Cecil  Shodet.  — "  I  have  already  sent  FLOEA  to  convince  J.  CHAMBBRLAIX."— (lelegram  No.  6.    See  Times'  Report,  Hay  19.) 


MAT  29,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


265 


FUBLEIGH,    HAVING  ACCIDENTALLY   HOOKED  A   FINE,    ACTIVE  JACK   SHEEP,    WHICH  WAS  GRAZING  ON  THE   BANK  BEHIND   HIM,    HAS  (IN 
THE   ENDEAVOUR  TO  SAVE   HIg  TACKLE)  QUITE  THE  BEST   SPOBT  OF  THE   SEASON  WITH  THE  MAY-FLY. 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

"WHEN  I  got  the  cholera  it  waa  three  in  the  morning.  I 
thought  I  was  dying.  So  I  got  up,  went  to  my  desk,  and  settled 
all  my  worldly  affairs,  carried  my  last  instructions  to  KF.IB  in  her 
bed,  put  on  my  clothes  and  went  out  to  confession  and  commu- 
nion." Here,  in  a  couple  of  sentences,  is  indicated  the  man- 
ner of  living  of  the  rare  woman  whose  history  is  written  in 
The  Romance  of  Isabel  Lady  Burton  (HuroHiNSON  A  Co.),  told 
in  part  by  herself,  in  part  by  W.  H.  WILKINS.  The  collaboration 
supplies  excellent  reading,  competing  in  interest  with  any  ordi- 
nary novel  of  the  year.  It  is  the  story  of  a  passionate-natured, 
yet  clear-headed,  practical-minded  woman,  mated  with  one 
of  the  oddest  men  of  the  century,  a  soldier  of  fortune, 
whose  inclination  and  duties  called  him  to  the  remote 
corners  of  the  earth.  My  Baronite  doubts  whether  BURTON 
was  quite  such  a  god-like  creature  as  he  seemed  to  be 
when  the  glistening  eyes  of  his  loving  wife  were  turned  upon 
him.  Amongst  her  other  qualities  Lady  BURTON  is  a  graphic 
writer.  Thanks  to  the  discernment  of  Mr.  WILKINS,  who  in 
this  and  other  respects  has  done  his  work  admirably,  we  get  bright 
glimpses  of  Brazil.  Portugal,  Teneriffe,  and  other  places  now  first 
given  to  the  world.  As  to  her  account  of  her  visit  to  Madeira  and 
Teneriffe,  Mr.  WILKINS  states  that  her  husband  would  not  allow 
her  to  publish  them.  To  have  one  BURTON  in  the  book  market 
was  probably  enough  for  him,  and  the  wife,  as  was  her  manner 
in  this  and  many  analogous  circumstances  indicated  in  her  story, 
uncomplainingly  submitted.  "  It  was  a  habit  with  the  BURTONS 
all  through  their  lives,"  Mr.  WILKINS  writes,  "that  whenever 
they  were  leaving  England  for  any  length  of  time  BURTON  started 
first  in  light  marching  order  to  prospect  the  place,  leaving  his 
wife  behind  to  pay.  pack,  and  bring  up  the  hesvy  baggage  in  the 
rear."  An  admirable  arrangement— for  the  husband.  In  de- 
velopment suitable  to  varied  countries  it  is  common  to  Oriental 
races  and  the  untutored  savage.  It  seemed  quite  proper  to  the 
unselfish  nature  of  the  woman,  who,  when  she  thought  she 
was  dying  of  cholera,  got  out  of  bed,  made  things  comfortable 
for  everyone  else  when  she  should  have  passed  away,  and  then 
went  forth  to  pray  for  the  repose  of  her  own  soul.  To  know 
Lady  BURTON  as  she  stands  revealed  in  this  book  is  a  privilege 
calculated  to  make  women  proud,  and  man  even  humbler  than 
is  his  wont.  TUB  BARON  DH  B.-W. 


A  LILT  OF  KEW  GARDENS. 

IN  the  garden  I  love  of  all  pleasaunces  best, 

In  the  Paradise  perfect  or  Kew, 
Where  the  eye  and  the  ear  can  for  ever  find  rest, 

Not  the  heart,  I  am  thinking  of  you, 
Of  you  aa  you  were  in  the  days  that  are  dead 

But  not  buried — they  never  can  bo 
As  long  as  I  hold  to  the  words  that  you  said 

When  you  plighted  your  troth  here  to  me. 

O !  n?y  dear  little  sweetheart,  I  cannot  forget 

How  happy  we  were  in  that  May. 
Your  portrait  is  garlanded,  treasured  and  set 

In'  a  frame  of  that  dear  yesterday, 
In  a  frame  that  was  gilded  by  first  Summer  sun, 

And  adorned  with  all  clustering  bloom  ; 
I  have  only  that  picture,  my  own,  only  one, 

A  miniature  limned  with  perfume. 

The  soft  golden  rain  of  laburnum  still  sways 

In  the  breeze  as  it  did.  dear,  of  old  ; 
The  lilac  yet  laughs  in  the  sun's  pointed  rays 

As  it  did  when  our  story  wai  told, 
That  story  which  sank  in  Life's  tide  like  a  stone 

(E'en  the  splash  was  but  noticed  by  few), 
But  I  'm  living  the  whole  of  that  story  alone 

In  the  garden — no  I  Desert  of  Kew  I 


In  a  Fleet  Street  Tavern. 

Jawkins  (to  PAWKINS).  What 's  become  of  HAWKINS  ?  I  haven't 
seen  him  lately. 

Pawkins.  Don't  you  know  that  he  went  out  as  a  volunteer 
to  Greece  P 

Jaickins.  No ;  but  it 's  very  appropriate.  He  was  the  best 
long  distance  runner  when  I  was  at  Cambridge,  and  I  expect 
he  's  kapt  up  his  form  now. 

'  A  Distinction  with  a  Difference. 

Ditavpninted  Porter  (to  Mate).  I  thought  yon  said  he  was  a 
gentleman. 
Mate.  No,  that 's  where  you  mistook  me.  I  said  he  waa  agent. 


256 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  29,  1897. 


THE   GAME   OF   ADVERBS. 

(A  COUNTRY-HOUSE  TRAOI-OOMEDY,  IN  Two  PARTS.) 
PART  I. 

SCENE — The  Drawing-room  at  Dripstone  Manor,  a  stately  Jacobean  man- 
sion recently 'acquired  by  Mr.  JOSEPH  SHUTTLEWORTH  (of  SHUTTLE- 
WORTH  AND  CLACK,  Carpet  Manufacturers,  Yarnminster).  It  is  to- 
wards dusk  in  early  October.  Mrs.  SHUTTLEWOBTH,  a  plump,  good- 
humoured-looking  matron  of  about  fifty,  is  discovered  with  her  chil- 
dren, viz.,  GRACE,  a  rather  prim  and  precise  young  woman  of  twenty- 
three  ;  FLOSSIE,  a  pretty  and  lively  girl  of  eighteen  ;  CONNIE,  twelve, 
and  COLIN,  ten.  With  them  are  GILLIAN  PINCENEY,  a  High  School 
friend  (/GRACE'S  ;  IVY  GORING,  a  Boarding-school  chum  of  FLOSSIE'S, 
who  are  staying  at  the  Manor  ;  and  the  younger  children's  Governess, 
Miss  MARKHAM.  Mr.  SHUTTLEWORTH,  fifty-five,  florid  and  pros- 
perous-looking, enters  with  his  son  BOB,  twenty-one,  of  Eton  and  Cam- 
bridge. Both  are  in  shooting  things. 


"  Is  Mrs.  Shuttleworth  at  home,  my  good  man  ?  " 

Mrs.  Shuttleworth  (to  them).  So  you're  back  at  last!  I've 
just  sent  away  the  tea.  But  if  you  'd  like  some,  I  could  easily 

Mr.  Shutt.  Not  for  me,  LOUISA,  thanks.  BOB  and  I  had  some- 
thing as  we  came  through  the  dining-room.  That  Jack-o'-dandy 
friend  of  BOB'S,  DORMER,  may  like  a  cup,  though,  for  all  I  can 
say. 

Mrs.  Shutt.  But  what 's  become  of  Mr.  DORMER  ? 

Mr.  Shutt.  Gone  upstairs  to  titivate,  I  expect.  Bless  you, 
you  wouldn't  catch  him  coming  in  here  in  his  shooting  toggery  I 

Bob.  Fact  is,  Mater,  the  Governor's  rather  riled  with  DORMER 
for  saying  on  the  way  home  that,  on  the  whole,  he  thought  the 
safest  thing  to  be  was  a  pheasant.  DORMER  didn't  mean  any- 
thing by  it,  Sir. 

Mr.  Shutt.  It's  my  belief  he  did.  And  considering  how  con- 
foundedly bad  the  light 's  been  this  afternoon,  and  that  I  never 
took  to  shooting  at  all  till  late  in  life,  I  don't  call  myself  a 
particularly  poor  shot. 


Bob  (sotto  voce,  to  Miss  GORING)  .  Never  knew  anyone  who  did. 
But  the  poor  old  Governor  is  rather  apt  to  draw  his  bow  at  a 
venture. 

Mrs.  Shutt.  I  can't  say  I  quite  take  to  your  friend  Mr.  DOR- 
MER, BOB.  He  has  such  a  nasty  sneering  way  with  him. 

Grace.  He  's  atrociously  conceited.  If  he  's  a  type  of  the  Ox- 
ford Undergraduate,  I  prefer  Cambridge. 

Flossie.  I 'm  certain  he  's  looking  down  on  us  secretly  all  the 
time. 

Bob.  What  bpshl  You  don't  understand  old  DORMER,  that's 
all.  He  's  a  nailing  good  fellow.  Capital  company  ! 

Mrs.  Shutt.  You  said  he  would  keep  us  all  amused  if  he  could 
only  be  got  to  come.  But  so  far,  I  can't  say — 

Bob.  Well,  Mater,  after  being  at  the  same  house  at  Eton  with 
him,  I  ought  to  know.  And  all  I  can  tell  you  is,  that  he  was  far 
and  away  the  best  mimic  I  ever  heard.  He  could  imitate  every- 
body and  everything. 

Flossie.  Up  to  now  he  has  only  favoured  us  with  an  imitation 
of  a  disagreeable  stuck-up  pig.  It 's  life-like — but  still  it  is 
beginning  to  pall.  (She  starts  as  DORMER  lounges  in;  he  has 
dressed  for  dinner,  except  that  he  is  wearing  a-  black  smoking-coat.) 
Oh,  Mr.  DORMER,  you  did  startle  me  so  1  You  look  exactly  like 
a  curate. 

Dormer.  And  are  curates  such  alarming  objects  ?  But  you  're 
all  in  the  dark,  here. 

Flossie.  Yes.     We  thought  you  would  come  in  and  be  brilliant. 

Dormer.  I  'm  afraid  I  can't  compete  with  the  ordinary  methods 
of  illumination.  (To  himself.)  Wish  this  girl  would  see  that 
I  'm  not  in  the  humour,  for  this  sort  of  thing. 

Mr.  Shutt.  (to  himself).  Can't  do  with  this  young  fellow  1 
(Aloud,  to  his  wife.)  I'm  off  to  my  study,  LOTJISA.  Got  some 
letters  to  write.  [He  goes  out. 

Dormer  (to  himself) .  On  the  sofa — with  his  eyes  shut  I  Only 
wish  I  could  slip  out,  too — but  they  might  think  it  rather  casual. 
(Aloud,  to  FLOSSIE.)  You  haven't  told  me  why  you  charged  me 
with  looking  clerical  f  Can't  say  I  feel  complimented. 

Flossie.  Oh,  it  doesn't  go  any  deeper  than  a  buttoned-up  coat 
and  white  tie.  And  you  might  have  a  worse  compliment  than 
being  compared  to  a  clergyman  1 

Mrs.  Shutt.  Talking  of  clergymen,  my  dear,  that  reminds  me 
the  Rector  has  never  called  yet.  Considering  we  have  been 
here  six  weeks,  and  attended  church  regularly  every  Sunday 
morning,  I  do  think  he  might  have  found  time  to  return  the 
civility  Before  this  I 

Dormer.  If  it  was  the  Rector  I  had  the  privilege  to  hear  last 
Sunday,  impressing  upon  us  the  duty  of  cheerfulness  in  sepulchral 
tones  that  were  calculated  to  draw  howls  from  a  china  poodle,  I 
should  be  inclined  to  think  myself  that  the  gaiety  of  the  party 
has  not  suffered  appreciably  from  his  delay. 

Mrs.  Shutt.  Mr.  POLYBLANK'B  pulpit  manner  is  a  little  melan- 
choly, certainly — he 's  a  bachelor,  poor  man.  But  they  tell  me 
he '»  very  much  looked  up  to ;  comes  of  a  very  good  family,  and 
intimate  with  all  the  county  folk,  so  perhaps  he  doesn't  consider 
us  good  enough  for  him. 

Grace.  Really,  Mamma,  you  talk  as  if  we  were  Pariahs  1  Most 
of  the  county  people  round  here  have  called  on  us.  What  does 
it  matter  if  Mr.  POLYBLANK  chooses  to  stay  away  f 

Mrs.  Shutt.  All  the  same,  my  dear,  there 's  a  sort  of  natural 
tie  between  the  Rectory  and  the  Manor  which — not  that  I  'm  one 
to  force  my  acquaintance  on  anybody.  Still  he  might  give  us 
credit  for  not  being  downright  savages,  if  we  do  come  from 
Yarnminster ! 

Flossie.  There,  Mother  dear,  that's  enough  of  the  Reverend 
POLY.  I  vote  we  have  a  game  at  something.  Are  you  fond  of 
games,  Mr.  DORMER  ? 

Dormer.  Indoor  games  P  Er — not  immoderately.  The  mere 
fact  of  being  supplied  with  a  slip  of  paper  and  a  stumpy  pencil, 
and  required  to  compile  a  list  of  animals  beginning  with  A, 
paralyses  my  faculties.  I  assure  you  I  never  can  produce  a  single 
animal  beginning  with  A. 

Flossie  (with  intention).  Not  even  one?  But  it's  too  dark  to 
see  to  write.  We  might  have  a  guessing  game — where  somebody 
has  to  go  out  of  the  room,  you  know. 

Dormer.  Ah.  I  think  I  could  play  at  that. 

Flossie.  And  when  you  come  back,  you  have  to  guess  from  our 
questions  what  celebrated  historical  person  you 're  supposed  to  be. 

Dormer.  I  should  never  get  within  a  mile  of  it.  I 've  forgotten 
my  Little  Henry's  History  of  England  ages  ago. 

Miss  Markham  (in,  a  small,  thin  voice) .  There  's  a  most  amusing 
guessing  game  called  "  Adverbs." 

Dormer.  It  sounds  perfectly  delightful.  Only  I'm  afraid  that 
I  Ve  only  the  sketchiest  idea  of  what  sort  of  thing  an  adverb  is. 

Miss  Mark.  Surely  you  know  that!  It's  a  part  of  speech, 
formed  by  adding  the  termination  "ly"  to  an  adjective.  For 
instance  :  bad — badly 


MAT  29,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


207 


Dormer.  Good — goodly.  I  see  now,  Miss  MARKHAM.  Tremen 
dousfun,  I've  no  doubt. 

Miss  Mark,  (annoyed).  I  was  about  to  explain  bow  it  'a  played 
One  of  the  party  goes  out,  and  the  rest  agree  in  what  manner 
they  are  all  to  receive  him  when  he  returns — "  admiringly,' 
"affectionately,"  and  so  on. 

linnid  r.   And  |M<  rum,-,  in  pretending  he's  somebody  else? 

.l/i.w  Mark,  lie  can  if  he  chooses,  of  course.  But  all  he  neee 
do  is  to  ask  questions  all  round,  and  from  the  way  in  which  they 
are  answered  he  guesses  what  the  adverb  is.  Now  do  you  see 

Mr.    DoK.MEK? 

liiniiit'r.  I  think  I  have  grasped  the  idea.  I  don't  mind  volun- 
teering to  go  out  of  the  room,  at  all  events. 

HI-HIT.  Very  well.  You  go  out,  Mr.  DOK.MKK,  and  just  wait 
about  in  the  hall  till  we  call  you  in. 

HiiimiT.  Delighted.  (To  himself,  n.i  he  goes  out.)  It's  just 
possible  I  may  be  a  little  hard  of  hearing. 

Flossie  (after  he  has  closed  the  door).  Now,  what  adverb  shal 
it  be  ?  Do  let 's  make  it  something  difficult ! 

Miss  Pinceney.  Why  not  something  which  would  let  us  show 
him  what  we  think  of  him — "Candidly"?  "Contemptuously"? 

llnli.  That  would  be  rather  rough  on  him,  Miss  PINOENBT. 
asked  him  down  here,  you  know,  and  really — 

M  /s.  Slmtt.  Yes,  my  dear,  it  wouldn't  be  kind  to  make  any 
visitor  of  ours  uncomfortable,  would  it? 

Flossie.  He  makes  us  uncomfortable.  He  's  as  rude  as  ever 
he  can  be ! 

dnirr  (thoughtfully).  Why  not  make  the  adverb  "rudely"? 
We  could  be  rude  without  being  personal. 

Mrs.  Shutt.  If  you  're  sure  he  won't  misunderstand 

Bob.  Oh.  he  'II  understand  all  right.  After  all,  it  'a  only  a 
game.  "  Rudely  "  will  do  first  rate.  I  '11  call  him  in. 

Isr  THB  ENTRANCE-HALL. 

The  Rev.  Peregrine  Polyblank  (at  the  glazed  doors).  I  wonder 
if  they  heard  me  ring.  (He  descries  DORMER  in  the  gloom.)  Ah, 

at  last  I    He  doesn't  seem  to  see  me Perhaps  I  d  better 

(He  goes  in.)  Er— I  am  the  Rector — Mr.  POLTBLANX.  Is  Mrs. 
SHTTTTLEWORTH  at  home,  my  good  man? 

Dormer  (stiffly).  I've  no  doubt  Mrs.  SHTJTTLBWOHTH  will  be 
pleased  to  see  you,  Sir,  if  you  wait  a  moment.  (To  himself,  as 
he  passes  on  to  the  library.)  Confounded  cheek,  taking  me  for 
the  butler  I  But  this  wifl  put  that  adverb  foolery  out  of  their 
heads,  thank  goodness.  I  snail  get  a  nap  in  peace,  now  I 

The  Rector  (alone,  to  himself).  Painful  to  enter  the  old  place 
again.  I  miss  those  poor  dear  HARDITPPS  at  every  turn.  To  find 
strangers  in  the  familiar  rooms — it  will  be  an  ordeal,  but  I  could 

not  put  it  off  any  longer Why  doesn't  the  butler  return  ? 

Does  this  good  lady   mean    to    keep    me    here    awaiting    her 

pleasure  ?    If  these  are  manufacturing  manners But  1  must 

beware  of  prejudice.  No  doubt  there  is  some  good  reason  for 
her  delay.  After  all,  people  may  have  made  a  fortune  out  of 
carpets  without  being  necessarily  lacking  in  the  refinements  and 
courtesies  of  well-bred  society. 

Sob  (opening  the  drawing-room  door).  We're  ready  for  you 
now,  old  chap.  You  can  come  in  as  soon  as  you  like ! 

The  .Rector  (to  himself).  "  Old  chap  "I  I  "  can  come  in  "!.... 
Well,  well,  I  suppose  this  is  the  Yarmninster  idea  of  cordiality. 
A  little  crude,  perhaps — but  well-meant. 

[He  enters  the  drawing-room. 
END  OF  PART  I. 


INTERVIEWS  WITH  INANIMATE  OBJECTS. 
A  MATINEE  HAT. 

I  MANAGED  to  get  hold  of  it  when  it  was  off  duty,  so  to  speak, 
and  at  once  broached  a  most  delicate  subject. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  recent  legislation  in  America  (New 
York,  isn't  it  ?)  abolishing  the  matinee  hat  ?  " 

"  It  is  only  one  other  instance  of  the  supreme  folly  which  crops 
up  at  times  in  whole  sections  of  the  human,  race.  Nations,  like 
individuals,  occasionally  lose  their  heads.  But  what  can  you 
expect  from  a  people  which  has  rejected  the  Arbitration  Treaty  ?  " 

"  1  can  quite  understand  your  wounded  feelings,  but  are  you 
not  sometimes  an  obstruction  ?  Is  there  nothing  to  be  said  for 
the  point  of  view — literally  the  point  of  view — of  those  who 
wish  to  see  the  play  when  they  go  to  the  theatre  ?  " 

"There  are  none  such!  Matinee  going  is  a  social  function,  in 
which  the  '  play '  is  of  no  more  importance  than  is  the  ipusical 
accompaniment  to  conversation  in  a  fashionable  drawing-room." 

"  That  is  a  hard  doctrine  Why,  then,  should  all  men  clamour 
for  your  destruction,  if  they  have  no  real  wish  to  see  the 
performance  ?  " 

"My  poor  friend,  are  you  indeed  so  dull  of  comprehension? 


WORTH     KNOWING. 


It  is  through  nothing  else  in  the  wide  world  but  pure  i«alousy  1 
The  agitation  would  cease  to-morrow,  if  men  were  allowed  to 
wear  such  elegant  productions  as  myself.  Indeed,  I  have  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  this  would  be  the  true  solution  of  the 
difficulty.  Design  a  superb  matinee  hat  for  the  men,  and  they 
would  at  once  be  perfectly  happy." 

'•  You  take  my  breath  away. 

"Allow  me  to  continue.  I  cannot  altogether  blame  the  un- 
fair sex  for  their  jealous  feelings  ;  they  are  much  to  be  pitied, 
with  their  ugly  stove-pipe  hats.  Let  but  the  Prince  of  WAIJM 
set  the  fashion  of  wearing  a  miniature  flower-garden  on  his  head, 
and  it  would  be  eagerly  followed." 

"The  head?" 

"No,  the  fashion." 

"  Yet  I  do  not  gather  that  artists  are  prepared  to  worship  the 
matinee  hat  as  a  type  of  beauty.  How  is  that  ?  " 

"  The  same  answer  holds  good  —  jealousy.  They  have  lio  rever- 
nce  for  anything  that  is  not  an  oil-painting.  Kngland  will  never 
be  truly  great  till  the  Royal  Academy  does  its  duty  and  opens  a 
section  for  artistic  hats,  and  possibly  bonnets.  I  can  conjure  up 
litherto  unimagined  heights  and  depths  of  loveliness  —  symphonies 
.n  silks  and  satins,  and  glorious  visions  of  vegetables  and  flowers, 
contrasting  with  the  gleaming,  waving  trophies  of  ostrich,  hum- 
ming-bird, and  egret.  KVDYARD  KIPLING  might  be  engaged  to 
celebrate  each  exhibit  in  incisive  verse.  But  there  are  other 
poets  beside  RUDTARD  KIPLING. 

A  feather,  a  wire,  and  a  stark  of  straw. 

Sow  does  that  strike  you  for  a  neat  epigrammatic  description  ?  " 
"  Do  you  approve  of  the  slaughter  of  birds  for  personal  adorn- 

ment?   I  am  truly  grieved  if  such  is  the  case." 

'  Nonsense  1    You  should  not  indulge  in  silly  sentiment.    What 

s  a  heron  or  a  kingfisher  compared  to  a  HAT  ?  " 
How  could  I  reply?  _ 


AUX  DAMES."  —  Xot  at  Cambridge  University. 


258 


PUNCH,    OR '-THE    LONDON    CHAKIVARI. 


[MAY  29,  1897 


Mhel,  "WELL,  JIMMY  DIDN'T  BLOW  HIS  BRAINS  OUT  AFTER  ALL  BECAUSE  YOU  REFU  ED 

HIM.      HE   PROPOSED  TO   MlSS  GOLIOHTLT  YESTERDAY.  I 

Maud.  "Dm  HE?    THEN  HE  MUST  HAVE  GOT  RID 'OF  THEM  IN  SOME  OTHER  WAY  !" 


MARKING  TIME. 

(A  Trayi-Cmnedy  in  a  couple  of  Dialogues.) 
FIRST  DIALOGUE. — The  present  moment. 

Her  Mother.  Darling  little  thing !  Didn't 
she  behave  sweetly? 

Her  Father.  Couldn't  have  heen  better. 
Quite  smiled  when  her  godfather  gave  her 
the  cup. 

Her  Mother.  Yes ;  and  so  intelligent ! 
Never  cried ;  not  even  when  Mr.  SMITH 
nearly  dropped  her  at  the  font  1 

Her  Father.  And  really,  I  think  it  was 
a  capital  idea  to  celebrate  the  glorious 


event   of  the   century   by   giving  her   an 
appropriate  name. 

Her  Mother.  JUBILIA  1    Shows  she  can'i 
be  many  days  old.    JTTBILIA  I 

SECOND  DIALOGUE. — Some  years  hence. 

Her  Lover.  She  is  the  most  charming 
girl  that  ever  existed.    Clever,  too  I 

His  Friend.  Yes,  so  I  have  been  given 
to  understand. 

Her  Lover.  Then,  accomplished  to  a  de- 
gree. Talks  French,  German  and  Italian 
as  if  she  were  a  native  of  Paris,  Berlin 
and  Rome. 

His   Friend.  How    useful  I      Quite    the 
traveller. 


Her  Lover.  And  can  paint,  sing,  dance 
— do  everything! 

His  Friend.  Splendid!  You  are  to  be 
Congratulated. 

Her  Lover.  1  should  think  sol  And 
;hen  her  name  is  so  pretty — JUBILIA! 

His  Friend.  Why,  then  she  must  have 
jeen  born  in  the  year  of  the  Diamond 

Her  Lover.  So  she  must !  JUBILIA  !  She 
can't  be  less  than  forty  1  JUBILIA  ! 


BYflONIC  AFTERTHOUGHTS. 

Up-to-date  version  of  a  famous  passage  in  ' '  The 
Giaour. ") 

["  The  Greek  Army  has  fallen  back  on  Therino- 
jylie." — Titnes.] 
CLIMB  of  the  unf orgotten  brave ! 

Whose  land  from  plain  to  mountain-cave 

Seems     Freedom's    tomb     and    Glory's 
grave  I 

Scene'  of  skedaddling  1    Can  it  be 

That  this  is  all  remains  of  thee  P 
Approach,  O,  Islam's  beaten  slave ; 

Say,  is  this  your  Thermopylae? 
What  shall  your  hosts  from  KDHEM  save, 

O,  funky  offspring  of  the  Free  ? 
Pronounce  what  sea,  what  shore  is  this. 
Can  it  be  rock-bound  Salamis? 
Yours  shall  not  be  a  name,  I  fear, 
That  Tyranny  shall  quake  to  hear ; 
But  rather  one  whose  bitter  fame 
Your  sons  will  mark  with  shrinking  shame. 
From  Freedom's  fight  to  cut  and  run 
Must  shame  the  sure  before  the  son. 
It  is  not  thus  that  Freedom 's  won  I 
And  yet,  perchance,  on  History's  page, 
In  records  of  this  "  Golden  "  Age 
(For  Mammon  is  our  modern  Mage), 
Facts  now  in  dusky  darkness  hid 
Beneath  the  diplomatic  lid, 
Will  light  a  bit  this  sordid  gloom, 
Where     "heroes"      bolt,     and     despots 

" boom " ; 

Will  show  how  high-placed  Hidden  Hand 
Pulled    wires   which    baulked    an    ancient 

land ; 

That  there  is  more  than  meets  the  eye 
In  all  this  piteous  puppetry. 
'Twere  long  to  tell,  and  hard  to  trace, 
Each  step  in  Greece's  dire  disgrace. 
Enough — the  SUI/TAN'S  hordes  can  quell 
Thermopylae's  hosta ;  and  who  shall  tell 
What  'twas  that  paved  abasement's  way, 
Or  Mammon's  bonds  or  despot  sway  ? 


A  GENUINE   "ABBEY  THOUGHT "  AT 

WESTMINSTER.. — Placing  the  bust  of  Sir 
WALTER  SCOTT  in  Poets'  Corner. 


H.B.H.  the  Duchess  of  York. 

BOBN  MAY  26,  1867. 

GREETING!  Princess,  to  you  this  day. 
Greeting  I  with  all  the  warmth  of  May. 
Greeting !  with  hope  of  happy  years. 
Greeting!  with  never  thought  of  tears. 
Greeting  I  with  thousand  heartfelt  cheers, 
Born,  bred,  and  wed  upon  our  Isle, 
On  you  may  Fortune  ever  smile. 

What  time  the  years  are  fleeting. 

Greeting,  Princess  !  great  greeting  t 


_  PEOVISIONAEY  MOTTO  FOR  MR.  LIPTOW 
(the  munificent  donor  of  £25, 000  to  the  Tm- 
serving  poor). — "  Fabula  narratur  de  Tea." 

To  Sir  Richard   Quain. 

(On  his  recovery  from  Ms  recent  illness.) 
SAYS  Mr.  Punch  to  Sir  EICHARD  QTJAIN — 
"So  glad  that '  BICHAHD  is  himself  again. ' " 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— MAT  29,  1897. 


THE  TURKISH   SHYLOCK. 


EUHOPA  (as  PORTIA).    "  TARRY   A   LITTLE  !  "—  Merchant  of  Venice 


MAY  29,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON'  CHARIVARI. 


261 


A    SUGGESTION. 

JUBILEE  "\\INDOW,  AS  DESIGNED  AND  ARRANGED  BY  MRS.  FELICIA  MANYTWIOG. 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Country  man  laments  to  his  London  bride~on 

the  iniquity  of  t/u;  Mouse  Sparrow. 
IN  Springtime,  when  the  sparrows  build, 

Oh  !  then  my  heart  gets  sadder ; 
I  know  it  means  my  gutters  filled 

With  nests  that  need  a  ladder  I 
The  sparrow  eats  our  budding  peas 

In  manner  quite  illegal, 
fiut  slug  and  snail  leaves  to  their  ease — 

I  wish  he  were  an  eagle ! 
For  then,  mayhap,,  he  'a  scare  the  cats 

Who  desecrate  our  roses, 
Or  decimate  the  ghoulish  bats 

That  flit  about  our  noses. 
An  eagle  lodg'd  beneath  the  eaves 

The  farmer's  lambs  might  harrow, 
But  would  not  stoop  to  strip  his  sheaves, 

As  does  that  beastly  sparrow. 
He  always  wakes  me  up  at  five, 

A  noisy,  tuneless  suitor ; 
Upon  our  grain  he  seems  to  thrive, 

An  unabashed  freebooter. 
In  short,  he  is  the  curse  of  May — 

Don't  think  my  views  too  narrow — 
The  dodo  long  has  passed  away  ; 

Won't  some  day,  too,  the  sparrow  ? 

I  do  not  wish  to  chide  the  zeal 

That  causes  you  to  scatter 
Big  chunks  of  bread  at  every  meal, 

Responsive  to  his  chatter. 
You  say  he  Childhood's  days  recalls, 

When  you  were  wont  to  feed  him, 


But  far  from  Mayfair's  stuccoed  halls, 

Do  you  still,  darling,  need  him  P 
The  blackbird,  thrush,  and  nightingale, 

Are  fain  to  hymn  you  daily ; 
The  robin,  linnet,  lark,  ne'er  tail 

To  warble  to  you  gaily. 
So  pray  give  up  your  cockney  friend, 

He  suits  not  plough  and  harrow, 
And  grant  me  leave  to  make  an  end 

Of  each  confounded  sparrow  I 


Noblesse   Obliges  Sometimes.   . 

Mr*.  Wallaroo  Cornstalk  (to  tiostess). 
What  an  obliging  man  your  butler  is!  I 
asked  him  to  call  my  carriage,  and  see, 
ho 's  making  signs  that  he 's  got  it. 

Hostess  (aghast).  My  butler  1  Why,  good 
heavens,  Airs.  CORNSTALK,  that 's  the  Duke 

of  FlTZFADDLETON  I 

Mrs.  Wallaroo  Cornstalk  (calmly).  A 
Duke,  is  he!  But  what  a  beautiful  butler 
he  would  have  made  I  [Exit  in  triumph. 

MILITARY  INTELLIGENCE.  —  It  is  under- 
stood that  every  one  of  the  hundred 
Members  of  Parliament,  who  despatched 
the  famous  message  to  the  King  of  the 
HELLENES,  has  been  created  a  centurion 
in  partibus  infidelium. 


THE    PEACE   THAT   THE   SULTAN  •wotrui 
PREFER. — A  piece  of  Greece. 


LAYING  THE  HUEEICANE. 

(Oriental  Sequel  to  "Raising  the  Wind.") 
SCENE — Constantinople. 

PRESENT— His  Majesty  JE  RE-Mi-Aa-DiDD- 
LER  and  Ambassadors. 

His  Majesty.  By  my  beard,  I  must  have 
Athens,  Thessaly.  the  Crown  Prince  aa  a 
slave  for  life,  and  the  revenue  for  a  hun- 
dred years ! 

First  Ambassador.  Impossible. 

H.M.  Then  allow  Athens  to  go.  The 
entire  Grecian  population  in  chains  will  do 
as  well.  See,  this  is  my  decision.  I  have 
spoken. 

Second  Am.  Impossible. 

H.M.  Then  sell  all  the  ancient  monu- 
ments by  auction,  and  let  me  nave  the 
proceeds.  Is  not  this  well  ?  Have  I  not 
spoken  wisely  ?,  Come,  by  my  beard,  it 
shall  be  so ! 

Third  Am.  Impossible. 

H.M.  I  speak  but  once  more.  I  will 
have  everything.  King,  capital,  and  the 
entire  Treasury. 

All  the  Ambassadors.  Impossible. 

H.M.  (resignedly).  Well,  well!  Kismet! 
Stay!     You  will   not  be  hard   with   me! 
You  will  not  refuse  me  everything!     If  I 
may  not  have  Greece  and  all  it  contains, 
you  will  not  decline  to  lend  me  the  ridi- 
culous sum  of  two  and  sixpence  halfpenny  P 
[Curtain  drops  for  the  request  to  be 
taken  into  consideration. 


262 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[MAT  29,  1897. 


"I  'EAR  THIS  'EKE  PATTI  AIN'T  'ARF  BAD!" 


OPERATIC  NOTES. 

Covent  Garden  Opera.  Wednesday, 
May  19. — To-night,  a  matter  of  Bizet- 
ness,  i.e.,  Carmen.  First-rate  house  to 
welcome  Mile.  /KI.IK  DB  LTJSBAN,  the  very 
Carmenest  of  all  Carmens.  As  good  as 
ever  she  was.  M.  SALIONAO,  the  new  Don 
Jose,  rather  quiet  at  first,  but  coming  out 
strong,  vocally  and  dramatically,  at  the 
finish.  Signer  ANCONA  is  a  robustious 
Escamillo;  but,  alas!  the  freshness  of  the 
Toreador  contento  has  departed,  and  an 
audience  can  now  hear  it  unmoved. 
Couldn't  have  a  fitter  name  for  a  low 
comedian  taking  the  part  of  II  Remendado 
than  M.  ROMMY.  Missed  the  former  and 
much  Kummier  than  the  Bommi-Remen- 
dado,  to  whom  audience  had  become  ac- 
customed. MARIE  ENGLK  charming  as  the 
tender-hearted,  lieht-headed  MIOAELA.  Of 
course,  no  contraband  company  perfect 
without  Mile.  BAUERMEisiER-singer  as 
Frisky  Frasquita,  one  of  the  card-sharp- 
ing gipsy  maidens.  M.  FLON  conducted, 


and  all  went  well.  Chorus,  "  Flon,  Flon, 
Flon  I  "ad  Kb. 

Friday.  —  MASSENET'S  Manon.  Always 
delightful,  because  we  haven't  had  too 
much  of  it.  M.  VAN  DTOK  suddenly  in- 
disposed, so  M.  BONNARD  nobly  stands  up 
for  his  absent  friend,  and  takes  his  part. 
To  say  that  M.  BONNARD  looks  the  Cheva- 
lier_  des  Grieux  is  complimentary  to  his 
artistic  talent ;  but  there  never  was  such 
a  hopeless  milksop  as  Des  Grieux,  or  such 
an  old  humbug  of  a  sermoniser  (with  a 
song)  as  his  father  the  Count,  excellently 
played  by  M.  PLANOON. 

M.  DOTHANE  comes  out  well  as  that  light 
comedy  rascal.  Lescaut,  and  Madame  SA- 
VILLE  gains  all  hearts  and  hands  by  her 
representation  of  Manon  Lescaut,  though 
she  makes  her  too  much  of  a  "  real  lady  " 
to  be  quite  in  keeping  with  the  character 
of  that  sly  little  heroine.  House  filled 
up  well  after  8.30,  but  before  that  hour, 
dinner  must  be  attended  to. 

What  everyone  with  dramatic  instinct 
must  admire  to-night  is  the  admirable 
stage  management!  Take,  for  example, 


the  scene  where,  when  it  is  growing  dark, 
three  candles  are  brought  in  to  illuminate 
a  snug  apartment  (for  two)  the  width 
and  height  of  Covent  Garden  stage ;  and 
when  Dei  Grieux  has  to  read  a  letter, 
what  does  he  do  ?  Does  he  walk  up  to 
one  of  these  candles,  and  avail  himself  of 
its  assistance  ?  Not  a  bit  of  it ;  nothing  to 
commonplace.  Accompanied  by  the  crafty 
Chevalier,  who  always  wants  to  keep  him 
in  the  dark,  Des  Grieux  walks  away  from 
the  candles  and  up  to  the  window  at  the 
back,  where  there  isn't  even  a  ray  of 
moonlight,  and  there,  by  the  light  of  his 
own  unaided  intelligence,  he  reads  the 
letter.  Then,  how  touching  is  Manon's 
sweet  farewell  to  the  big  soup  tureen  and 
the  bottle  of  cheap  claret  which  her  lover, 
regardless  of  expense,  has  ordered  in  for 
their  supper, — a  meal  they  never  take, 
and  which  is  left  untasted  when  the 
curtain  descends,  in  spite  of  the  lover's 
festive  "A  table!  A  tablet"  The  opera 
to-night  abounds  in  these  little  touches. 
Finally,  as  no  opera  here  can  be  considered 
quite  complete  in  its  cast  without  Mile. 
BATJERMEISTER,  here  she  is  as  the  pretty 
little  puss  Poussette,  a  companion  picture, 
in  court  dress,  to  her  Frasquita  in  Carmen. 
FLON  conducted  the  orchestra,  and  him- 
self, admirably. 

Saturday.  —  A  grand  LOHENOHIN-DE- 
RESZKE  night  to  end  the  week.  Nothing 
risky  about  the  Reszkys. 


A  PARIS  IMPROMPTU. 

[The  much -discussed  tramway  across  the  Champs 
Elys^es  has  just  been  opened.] 

'Tis  the  eighteenth  of  May, 
And  a  noteworthy  day 
For  the  Champs  Elysees. 
At  the  Rond  Point  I  stay, 
And  just  over  the  way, 
From  my  room  I  survey 
Le  highlife  tout  gai, 
Diplomat — decore, 
All  in  faultless  array, 
And  an  endless  display 
Of  snobisme  outre, 
Epatant  and  blase, 
Of  cocottes  and  cockers, 
And  the  jeunesse  doree. 
Some  motors  convey — 
'Tis  a  perilous  play, 
And  the  diable  to  pay, 
If  the  thing  runs  away, 
With  a  snort  and  a  bray, 
Venire  a  terre,  as  they  say. 
And  hundreds  essay 
The  swift  vela's  sway  1 
Not  a  moment's  delay, 
As  they  mean  to  make  hay 
While  they  see  the  sun's  ray 
Through  the  sky  too  long  grey. 

Mais  v'la—qu'est-ce  que  c'est? 

Why  this  sudden  melee  ? 

Is  a  mad  dog  astray, 

Or  a  new  Charite, 

Or  a  voyou's  affray, 

That  causes  dismay, 

And  makes  coachmen  inveigh, 

"  Savristir—sacre ! " 

While  their  steeds  jib  and  neigh, 

And  refuse  to  obey  ? 

What  is  it,  I  pray  ? 

*  *  *  * 

'Tis  the  latest  tramway 
That  they  Ve  opened  to-day ; 
And  the  Champs  Elysees 
They  '11  rechristen  for  aye, 
In  its  hour  of  decay, 
"L' Avenue  Dix-huit  Mai  "I 


MAT  29,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


263 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  PROM  TICK  DIARY  OP  TOBY,  M.P. 

House  of  Commons,  Monday,  May  17. — 
Curious  how  soon  and  how  completely 
House  forgets  old  Members,  whether  small 
or  great.  There  wan  a  time  when  it 
seemed  impossible  to  carry  on  without 
Mr.  G.  He  has  been  gone  these  two 
years,  and  the  SPEAKER  takes  the  chair  as 
usual,  the  Clerk  proceeds  to  read  the 
Orders  of  the  Day,  speeches  are  made,  divi- 
sions taken,  as  if  Mr.  G.  had  never  been. 

For  quite  other  reasons  it  seemed  im- 
possible to  forget  CHARLES  AUGUSTUS  VAN- 

8ITTART  CONYBEARE  :  "  the  CURSE  OF  CAM- 
BORNE,"  SARK,  for  brevity,  used  to  call 
him.  His  strident  voice,  his  forbidding 
manner,  his  habit  of  opposing  everything 
at  interminable  length,  made  such  sharp 
impression  upon  a  long-suffering  Honse 
that,  released  from  his  presence,  Members 
might  be  expected  to  have  abiding  sense 
of  deliverance.  But  the  CURSE  op  CAM- 
BORNE  withdrawn,  the  House  is  absolutely 
indifferent. 
Reminded  of  blessing  to-night  by  hear- 


"  'Scuse-Cox !  "J  •»«ZD^        D 
The  Member  for  the  Kingston  Division. 


ing  a  voice,  evidently  made  in  Germany, 
discoursing  on  Employers'  Liability  Bill. 
Who  is  itP  Members  ask.  It's  STRAUSS, 
who,  at  the  General  Election,  beat  CONT- 
HKAHK  out  of  Camborne. 

"And  a  very  good  thing,  too,"  says 
PRIXCTS  ARTHUR,  in  high  spirits  to-night, 
since  SQUIRB  OF  MALWOOD  has  come  back 
hale  and  strong.  "  Apart  from  that  claim 
upon  the  favour  of  the  House,  the  new 
Member  will  be  of  invaluable  service  to  UB. 
It  is  something  to  know  that  we  can 
always  put  up  STRAUSS  whpn  we  want  to 
know  which  way  the  wind  blows." 

Ttufiness  done. — Useful,  hut  not  precisely 
allurine.  debate  around  Employers'  Lia- 
bility Bill. 

Tuesday.  —  Young  Members  will  do 
well  to  study  the  manner  of  the  Member 
for  the  Kingston  division  of  Surrey  when 
putting  a  question  to  a  Minister.  There 
are  various  ways  of  doing  this,  from 
FORTBSCT/B-FLANNERY'S  portentous  mouth- 
ing of  unimportant  syllables  to  Mr.  WEIR'S 
laconic  but  impressive  "Question  42." 
SKEWES-COX  has  an  insinuating,  self-de- 
precating manner  that  is  irresistible.  As 
ha  rubs  his  hands  and  sets  his  head  on  one 


TOUCHING  THEM_UP  FOR  THE  JUBILEE! 
Mr.  John  A-rd  and  the  Statuet  on  the  Queen' i  Route. 


side,  he  seams  to  say,  "  Really,  I  do  hope 
that  of  your  infinite  kindness  you  will  be 
able  to  'Scuse-Cox." 

Of  course  no  one,  least  of  all  WHITE 
RIDLEY,  can  refuse  the  request.  Accord- 
ingly, when  to-night  Member  for  Kingston 
apologetically  introduced  the  topic  of 
gipsies  and  other  vagrom  men,  dwellers  in 
tents  and  vans,  the  HOME  SECRETARY  made 
conciliatory  reply. 

There  the  matter  might  have  ended, 
and  SWIFT  MACNEILL  now  wishes  it  had. 
Thought  he  saw  opportunity  of  scoring  off 
Members  opposite.  HOME  SECBETABY  had 
said,  that  under  existing  statutes  local  au- 


thorities are  enabled  to  deal  with  nuisances 
caused  by  dwellers  in  tents  and  vans. 

"  Do  those  powers  apply  to  persons  in 
Primrose  League  Vans?"  asked  SWIFT 
MACNEILL  ;  and  good  Liberals  chuckled. 

"  They  apply  only  to  persons  who  be- 
come nuisances,"  answered  the  HOME  SEC- 
RETARY, in  emphatic  voice,  with  significant 
!  nod  towards  his  interlocutor.    House  the 
I  more  delighted  since  WHITB  RIDLEY  doesn't 
!  look  the  kind  of  man  to  say  such  things. 
j  MACNEILL  thinks  he  will  leave  him  alone 
in  future. 

Business  done. — Employers'  Liability  Bill 
!  read  second  time. 


Thursday.  —  Pretty  to  see  the  Right 
Hon.  JEREMIAH  LOWTHER  standing  just 
now  between  Chancellors  of  the  Exche- 
quer, past  and  present,  Lamenting  their 
perverseness.  Motion  made  to  read  Bud- 
get Bill  a  second  time.  This  JEREMIAH 
met  with  amendment  which,  apart  from 
politics,  is  a  gem  of  literary  construction. 
"That  in  the  opinion  of  this  House,"  so 
the  verse  ran,  "the  existing  fiscal  system 
of  the  country  is  unequal  to  the  con- 
tinually increasing  demands  of  the  public 
service,  and  that  the  time  has  arrived  lor 
recourse  to  be  had  to  more  varied  sources 
of  taxation." 


264 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[MAY  29,  1897. 


THE    JUBILEE    PREPARATIONS. 

Unsophiaticaf.cd  Colonial  Visitor.   "WHAT  BUILDING  is  THAT,  DRIVER?" 
Driver.  "WHY,  BLESS  YE,  SIR,  THAT'S  ST.  PAUL'S!" 

17.  C'.   V.    "INDEED!    THEN   AKE  THEY   TAKING  IT  DOWN  TO   BUILD   SEATS   FOR   THE 
JUBILEE  PROCESSION  ? " 


Observe  the  fine  antique  flavour  of  that 
last  sentence.  It  is  Mr.  Micawber  in  his 
severer,  more  classic  mood.  What  JERE- 
MIAH meant,  as  he  plainly  set  forth  in  a 
chapter  of  Lamentations  which  occupied 
just  an  hour  in  the  reading,  is  that  a  five 
shilling  duty  shall  he  clapped  on  corn. 
Some  people  would  have  said  so.  JERE- 
MIAH, looking  round  congregation  with  a 
face  whose  supernal  gravity  is  threatened 
by  a  smile  lurking  in  the  corners  of  the 
humourous  mouth,  lifts  up  his  voice  and 
cries  aloud,  "  The  time  has  arrived  for  re- 
course being  had  to  more  varied  sources  of 
taxation." 

Very  few  Members  present.  Even  the 
Budget  Bill  debate,  opened  by  our  own 
JEREMIAH,  is  not  a  prospect  that  will  draw 
Members.  But  ST.  MICHAEL  was  there,  in 
the  absence  of  All  Angels  sitting  alone  on 
the  Treasury  Bench  as  on  a  cloud.  Oppo- 
site him,  in  full  view  of  JEREMIAH,  was  the 
SQUIRE  OF  MALWOOD,  softly  smiling  at  the 
heresies  proclaimed.  JEREMIAH  did  not 
lament  the  absence  of  a  thronged  audience 
since  these  two  were  within  hearing.  If 
only  he  could  overcome  what  he  called 
their  prejudices,  all  would  be  well  with  his 
beloved  country.  The  last  years  of  a  long 
reign  would  spring  into  birth  glowing  in  the 
dawn  of  unexampled  prosperity.  So  JERE- 
MIAH, with  ona  eye  on  the  SQUIRE  OF 
MALWOOD,  and  the  other  on  the  saintly 
MICHAEL,  improved  the  occasion,  heedless 
of  the  knowing  smiles  the  eminent  finan- 
ciers flashed  at  each  other  across  the  table. 

Some  question  arisen  as  to  what  subject 
shall  serve  for  fresco  in  one  of  the  vacant 
corners  of  the  outer  lobby.  Surely  here  it 
is  to  hand  JEMMY  LOWTHER  standing  be- 
tween HICKS  BEACH  and  HARCOURT,  trying 


to  convince  them  of  the  equity  of  a  five 
shilling  duty  on  foreign  corn. 

Business  done.  —  Education  Bill  read 
third  time ;  Budget  Bill  second  time. 
Flowing  tide  evidently  with  Ministers. 

Friday. — JOHN  AIRD,  whose  large  heart 
and  generous  mind  care  for  the  meanest 
creatures  among  us,  has  turned  his 
thoughts  upon  the  lot  of  the  statues  on 
the  line  of  the  Jubilee  Procession.  Whilst 
London  is  gay  with  bunting,  streets  and 
houses  filled  with  crowd  dressed  all  in  their 
best,  the  statues  remain  in  all  their  for- 
bidding grime.  Why  not  give  them  all  a 
wash  and  brush  up,  even  if  it  costs  more 
than  the  statutory  twopence  ?  Has 
brought  the  matter  under  notice  of  FIRST 
COMMISSIONER  OF  WORKS.  Few  men  can 
resist  JOHN  AIRD'S  genial  manner.  To- 
night AKERS-DOUGLAS  announces  that  the 
thing  shall  be  done.  JOHN  beaming  with 
delight. 

"  I  don't  mind  telling  you,  TOBY,"  he 
whispered  in  my  ear,  "that  if  DOUGLAS 
had,  as  some  more  hide-bound  First  Com- 
missioners would  have  done,  refused  to 
listen  to  the  suggestion,  I  meant  to  take 
off  my  coat  and  carry  it  out  myself.  Been 
used  to  hard  work  all  my  life,  though  you 
wouldn't  think  it  to  look  at  me.  What 
with  an  hour  or  two  in  the  early  morning, 
and  taking  advantage  of  moonlight  nights, 
I  would  have  made  the  statues  look  so  that 
they  wouldn't  know  each  other.  But,  of 
course,  it's  better  for  the  Board  of  Works 
to  turn  on  a  lot  of  men.  Get  the  washing 
done  more  thoroughly." 

"And  when  you've  washed  and  nicely 
AIRD  them,  I  wish,"  said  SARK,  "you 
would  "onsider  the  desirability  of  mangling 
a  few." 


"I  think  not,"  says  JOHN,  almost 
severely  for  him.  (He  doesn't  like  SARK  ; 
thinks  he  makes  fun  of  people.)  "  Best  to 
do  one  thing  at  a  time,  and  do  it  tho- 
roughly." 

Business  done. — PRINCE  ARTHUR,  in 
speech  of  rare  excellence,  announces 
scheme  of  Local  Government  for  Ireland, 
gilded  by  equivalent  grant  in  relief  of 
rates.  "If  PRINCE  ARTHTTR  wants  a  motto 
for  his  new  Bill,"  said  TIM  HEALY,  who  is 
as  well  up  in  the  poets  as  he  is  in  Parlia- 
mentary practice,  "  he  '11  find  in  WORDS- 
WORTH :  — 

With  what  nice  care  equivalents  are  eiven, 
How  just,  how  bountiful,  the  hand  of  heaven ' '  " 


THE  ONE  HUISTDRED. 

(Nor  the  Light  Brigade.) 

[Lord  SALISBURY  had  Rome  very  severe  thines  to 
say  of  the  antjnn  of  the  100  M.P.'s  who  telegraphed 
to  the  King  of  GRBECE.] 

IN  a  league,  in  a  league, 

In  a  league,  onward, 
Mounting  their  hobby-horse, 

Wrote  the  One  Hundred ! 
"Forward  the  Greek  Brigade! 
Thump  the  old  Turk  !  "  they  said  ; 
Unto  the  King  of  GREECE. 

Wrote  the  One  Hundred! 

"Forward  the  Greek  Brigade! 
Was  there  a  man  dismayed  ? 
Not  though  the  papers  said 

Badly  they  blunder'd. 
Theirs  not  to  make  reply, 
Theirs  not  to  reason  why. 
Theirs  but  to  wire  (not  die)  ; 
So  to  the  King  of  GREECE. 

Wired  the  One  Hundred  ! 

Critics  to  right  of  them, 
Critics  to  left  of  them, 
Critics  in  front  of  them. 

Scolded  and  thundered  : 
Stormed  at  by  the  Pall  ~M«ll, 
Boldly  thev  wrote,  and  well, 
TTnto  the  King  of  GREECE, 
Their  sympathy  to  tell. 
Wishing  the  Turk — not  iivll, 

Wrote  the  One  Hundred  ! 

Flashed  on  their  message  there, 
Flashed,  to  the  general  scare, 
Stirring  all  statesmen's  hair. 
Backing  the  Greek  cause,  while 

All  the  world  wondered. 
Bang  at  the  Moslem  yoke, 
In  every  line  they  broke  : 

Teuton  and  Russian 
Thought  it,  perhaps,  a  joke 
(And  it  did  end  in  smoke) 

From  all  sense  sundered. 
So  most  men  thought,  but  not— 

Not  l-he  One  Hundred! 

Papers  to  right  of  them, 
Papers  to  left  of  them, 
Papers  behind  them, 

Chivied  and  thunder'd ; 
Stormed  at  bv  the  Pall  Mall, 
Daily  News,  Times,  as  well 
(All  butth9  Chron-4-c}&\) 
They  gave  their  "jaw"  free  play, 
At  a  great  cost — of  breath, 
Wishing  the  Greek  cause  well, 
And— there  they  left  the  iob ! 

Left,  the  One  Hundred  1 

When  shall  their  glory  fade? 
Oh  !  the  wild  charge  they  made  ! 

All  the  world  wondered! 
What  use  the  charge  they  made  ? 
Humph  I    None  !  I  'm  sore  afraid ! 

Luckless  One  Hundred! 


JUNE  5,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   oil  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


5265 


PRIVATE    LODGINGS. 


rniVMIU.       ^VfWfvainvaw. 


A  COMPENSATION  BALANCE. 

[In  Committee  on  the  Workmen's  Compenfation  Bill,  Mr.  CHAMBERLAIN 
opposed  Mr.  TENNANT'S  "Instruction,"  which  would  have  (riven  U 
mittce  power  to  provide  for  the  case  of  persons  injured  in  their  heal 
noxious  trade*.] 

INSTRUCTIVE,  very,  is  the  line  Our  JOB 

Took  upon  Mr.  TRNNANT'S  new  Instruction. 
Like  the  mere  scratch  which  killed  Mercutio, 
It  was  " too  wide."  Well,  JOSEPH 's  "wide,"  we  know  1 

But  how  he  yields  to  "Proputty's"  seduction  I 
He  who  the  Liberal  flag  once  wildly  waved, 
Now  valiantly  uplifts  the  Tory  pennant : 
He  who  the  Landlord  once  so  boldly  braved, 
Now  boldly  braves  the — TENNANT  ! 

WILL  THEY  GET  IT? 

OUR  advertisers,  in'the  Times  and  other  newspapers,  are  cer- 
tainly leaving  no  stone  unturned  in  view  of  The  event.  Thus  one 
Lady,  "moving  in  the  best  Society,  and  member  of  several 
London  clubs,  would  be  willing  to  CHAPERONS  one  or  more 
YOUNG  LADIES  in  London  from  June  19th  to  24th  inclusive,  in 
exchange  for  board  and  lodging  for  that  period,  also  seat  near 
St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  whefefrom  to  view  procession.  Address 
EADTTH  BBAUTT  C.,"  Ac.  A  gentleman  offers  a  fine  old  manor 
house,  within  an  hour  of  London,  at  a  lordly  rent,  for  the  Jubilee 
week ;  and  so  on.  Will  a  double-million-magnifying  telescope 
be  provided  in  the  latter  case,  capable  of  seeing  through  ten  miles 
of  brick  walls,  and  the  bodies  of  loyal  cockneys  forty  deepr' 
And  is  EADTTH  BEAUTT  C.  going  to  have  the  seat  to  herself  in 
the  centre  of  all  things,  leaving  the  one  or  more  young  ladies 
at  home  or  severally  in  the  London  Clubs?  Anyhow,  such  push 
ing  and  enterprising  loyalty  can  scarcely  fail  to  "  get  there,  ai 
the  Americans  say. 

Mr.  P«  nch  can  hardly  improve  on  the  ingenuity  of  this  class 


of  advertisers.     He  will  not,  therefore,  be  surprised  to  hear  of 
grand  stands  being  erected  all  over  the  country,  whence  Britons 
can  face  their  Mecca,  and  view  with  the  eye  of  faith  the  cere 
mony  going  on  at  St.  Paul's.  And  EADTTH  BBATJTT  C.  (who  could 
resist  such  a  name  ?)  will  probably  be  found  inside  one  of  tl 
Royal  carriages  on  the  great  occasion,  or  seated  at  daybreak  o 
a  camp-stool  in  front  of  Queen  Anne's  statue.     If  the  lady  gets 
her  wished-for  youthful  charges,  and  a  window,  with  board  an< 
lodging  thrown  in,  it  will  doubtless  be  a  case  of  youth  at  the 
helm,  ?.«.,  in  a  back  seat,  and  Beauty  at  the  prow.    Next,  please  I 

EXASPERATION ! 
(A   Screed  from  Parit.) 

0  rum*  product  of  a  foreign  clime, 
Unspeakable,  unstrikabl*,  unlighteble ; 

1  use  you  up  by  dozens  at  a  time, 

Impossible,  intractable,  indictable ! 
Take  then  this  tribute  of  a  wrathful  rhyme — 

Ne'er  shall  I  smoke  with  you  the  peaceful  <»lumetl 
They  charge  ten  centime  with  a  cheek  sublime 

For  box  of  thirty  miserable  allumettes ! 

THEATRICAL  NOTE.— Sorry  to  see  that  in  consequence  of  not 
being  quite  so  well  as  everyone  would  wish  him,  Mr.  CHARLES 
WTNDHAM  is  knocking  off  some  of  his  matinees.  No  remonstra- 
ting with  a  man  who  is  his  own  Physician  and  takes  his  own 
receipts.  

SUGGESTED  TITLES  (should  Mr.  HARMSWORTH  6e  rawed  to  the 
Peerage).—"  Lord  Missingword  of  Answers."  And  for  Mr.  PEAR- 
SON, "Lord  Coupon/* . 

"•MAXIMS'  IN  ACTION."— "Go  in  and  win"— "Hit  him  hard, 
he  ain't  got  no  friends,"  <fec.,  <Src. 


YOU  cm, 


A  A 


266 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  5,  1897, 


JU.S-K  5,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


267 


BY    ROAD    TO    EPSOM. 

Facetima  Cosier  (to  Jenkiiis,  uhoie  hireling  has  bolted).  "  THAT  'B  THE  TICKET,  GCV'NOR— KEEP  HIM  GOINO—  AND  YOU  'LL  BE  IN  TIME 

FOR  THE  FIRST  BACK  !  " 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

MR.  JUSTIN  MCCARTHY  has  at  length  completed  his  History 
<>f  Our  Own  Times,  CHATTO  AND  WINDUS  issuing  the  last  volume, 
wHoh  carries  on  the  wondrous  tale  from  1880  up  to  this  year  of 
Jubilee.  Mr.  MC-CARTHY  is  his  own  and  only  rival.  Remember- 
ing the  fascination  of  his  earlier  volumes,  my  Baronite  came  to 
a  study  of  this  conclusion  of  the  matter  with  some  apprehension. 
He  finds  that  the  historian  has  kept  his  very  best  wine  till  the 
last.  Obviously,  in  dealing  with  the  last  seventeen  years  Mr. 
MCCARTHY  has  the  advantage  of  intimate  personal  knowledge. 
He  writes  history,  pages  of  which  the  Party  he  led  in  the  Hous* 
of  Commons  helped  to  make.  That  in  some  men  would  be  a  fatal 
condition.  Mr.  MCCARTHY  has  a  judicial  mind,  which  enables 
him  to  withdraw  from  the  inner  circle  where  he  has  played  no 
mean  part,  and  regard  actions,  motives,  and  consequences  with 
impartial  eye.  The  volume  is  marked  by  those  fine  literary 
qualities,  that  rare  power  of  condensation  without  loss  of  colour, 
that  established  the  enduring  fame  of  the  earlier  volumes.  Some 
of  the  characterisations  of  public  men  are  marvels  of  accuracy, 
models  of  style.  Of  Sir  ROUNDELL  PALMER,  first  Lord  SELBORNE, 
Mr.  MCCARTHY  writes :  "  He  was  a  theological  politician,  the 
theologian  perhaps  predominating  over  the  politician."  Of  the 
Duke  of  ARGYLL  :  *  He  had  a  little  too  much  of  the  essayist  and  the 
small  philosopher  in  him  to  be  a  stalwart  political  figure."  These 
two  gems  are  extracted,  not  because  they  are  the  brightest,  but 
because  of  their  compactness.  Many  others  sparkle  through  the 
volume,  which  carries  the  reader  almost  breathless  through 
history  which  seems  strangely  old,  though  its  starting  point  is 
the  opening  of  the  first  Session  of  the  Parliament  of  1880.  The 
book  is  not  illustrated.  Otherwise  photographs  of  the  Treasury 
Bench  in  the  House  of  Commons  in  May,  1880,  and  in  May, 
1897,  would  shew  in  a  flash  how  much  has  happened  in  the 
interval.  THE  BARON  UK  B.-W. 

BRAVO  SIR  HENRY! — Presiding,  on  last  Thursday  night,  at  the 
annual  festival  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Musicians,  Sir  HBNRY 
IRVINO  suggested  that  amateur  flute-players  constituted  so  large 
a  portion  of  general  society  that  they  could,  among  themselves, 
so  "  raise  the  wind "  as  to  considerably  benefit  the  funds  of  this 
Society. 


ANOTHER  JUBILEE  SUGGESTION. 

SIR, — Twenty-seven  years  and  eleven  months  ago  I  sent  a  joke 
to  your  paper.  It  did  not  then  appear,  but  in  January,  1882, 
there  was  a  joke  something  like  it.  The  joke  was  not  a  very 
long  one,  for  it  only  occupied  the  space  of  three  lines.  For  this 
article,  or  suggested  article,  I  have  received  no  remuneration 
whatever!  I  would  not  now  distress  your  generous  nature  by 
reminding  you  of  this ;  I  would  only  suggest  that  the  Royal  Pro- 
cession will  pass  your  office,  85,  Fleet  Street,  on  June  22,  and 
that  a  few  seats,  for  my  wife,  my  sister-in-law,  my  five  eldest 
daughters,  my  cousin's  aunt  by  marriage,  my  godfather's  step- 
son's niece,  and  myself,  would  be  a  slight  return  for  that  joke, 
and  an  encouragement  to  me  to  send  further  contributions. 
I  am,  Sir,  your  obedient  servant,  OWBN  DEED. 

[We  should,   of  course,  hare  invited  our  intending  contributor  and  his 
rtlatives,  had  he  not  omitted  hi*  address. — ED.] 


AT  K  i RAI.F  v's  VICTORIAN  ERA  SHOW. — According  to  a  Daily  Mail 
Special  interviewing  the  Daily  Female  special  waitresses  at  Earl's 
Court  Exhibition,  these  young  ladies  have  a  grievance.  They  don't 
like  their  old  English  costumes.  "I've  been  a  waitress  for  two 
years."  said  his  fair  informant,  "  but  I  never  had  to  look  a  euy 
like  this  before."  She  ought  to  have  brought  her  sorrows  before 
H.R.H.  the  Prince  of  WALES  when  he  visited  "  Guy's  "  last  week 
and  opened  the  "  Queen  Victoria "  ward.  Our  Own  Exhibition 
District  Visitor  (nothing  less  than  a  Duke  in  disguise  to  visit 
the  Court  of  the  Earl),  after  close  personal  inspection,  describes 
the  costume  of  the  handy  maidens — the  "ladies  in  waiting" — as 
most  becoming.  They  are  all  of  them  "  studies  in  Black  and 
White,"  and  he  wishes  to  draw  the  attention  of  artists  to  these 
models  of  neat-handed  Phyllises.  Also  our  E.  D.  V.  reports 
that  not  only  the  musical  and  dramatic  part  of  the  show  is  well 
worth  a  visit,  but  that  all  the  departments,  when  quite  finished, 
and  in  thorough  working  order  (which  by  the  time  this  appears 
they  probably  will  be,  and  then  he  shall  look  in  again),  will 
equal,  if  not  surpass,  any  previous  exhibition  in  this  quarter. 

DotrBTPCL. — On  June  24  the  Deserving  and  Undeserving  Poor 
are  to  have  good  dinners.  But  will  they  get  their  desserts? 


268 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  5,  1897. 


THE    GAME    OF    ADVERBS. 

(A   COUNTRY-HOUSK  TftAGI-COMEDY   IN  TWO  PARTS.) 

PART  II. 

SCENE — The  Drawing-room  at  Dripstone.  The  Hector  has  just  entered, 
and  st'inds  helplessly  endeavouring  to  ulentifij  the  Mistress  of  the 
House  in  the  deepcniny  dusk. 

'Bob  (cheerily).  Make  yourself  at  home,  old  fellow.  Take  a  pew ! 

The  Hector  (to  himself).  "Take  a  pew "  I  The  heartiness  of 
manufacturing  circles  is  really  rather  trying!  (Aloud.)  But 
excuse  me,  I  don't  yet  see — 

Bob  (taking  him  by  the  shoulders,  and  thrusting  him  down  on  a 
couch  in  the  centre  of  the  circle).  Squat  there,  and  fire  away. 


"  Joking  apart,  old  man,  you  were  simply  ripping !  " 

The  Rector.  I — ah— don't  know  whether  you  are  aware  that 
my — um — ah — name  is  POLYBLANK,  and  that  I  am  the  Rector  of 
Dripstone  ? 

[A  general  ripple  of  genuine,  if  reluctant,  amusement. 

Hob.  Ihe  Reverend  POLY!  By  Jove;  capital  I  All  right,  now 
begin  asking  questions — any  rot  will  do,  you  know.  Start  with 
the  Mater. 

The  Sector  (to  himself).  Are  they  all  like  this  in  Yarnminsterp 
(Aloud.)  I  confess  that  in  this— ah — semi-darkness  I  find  con- 
siderable difficulty  in  ascertaining  the  precise  whereabouts  of  my— 
um — ah — hostess.  [An  outburst  of  irrepressible  laughter. 

Mrs.  Shuttleworth  (giggling  helplessly).  Oh;  dear,  dear,  1 
oughtn't  to  laugh — but  he  is  so  ridiculous  1  This  is  me,  over  here 
in  the  corner. 

The  "Rector  (pitching  his  voice  in  that  direction).  I  trust,  my 
deah  Mrs.  SHTTTTLEWORTH,  that  I  have  not  seemed  reprehensibly 
— ah — tardy  in  coming  here  to  make  your  acquaintance  ? 

Mrs.  Shuttleworth  (in  a  whisper).  I  dont  know  what  to 
answer.  (Aloud.)  Tardy?  Oh,  dear  no.  I  shouldn't  have 
cared  if  you'd  stayed  away  altogether.  (In  a  whisper,  to 
GRACE.)  Do  you  think  that  wan  too  rude,  dear? 

Grace.  Oh,  not  at  all,  Mamma.  (Aloud  to  the  Rector.)  There, 
you  've  had  Mamma's  answer.  Now  it 's  my  turn. 

The  Rector  (to  himself,  in  mild  surprise).  These  people  are 
really  too  impossible!  (Addressing  himself  to  GRACE.)  May  I 


plead  in  excuse  that  my  delay  is  due  (firstly)  to  the  preparations 
for  our  Harvest  Festival,  and  (secondly)  to  the  entire  parish 
work  being  thrown  upon  my  shoulders  by  my  curate's  having 
unexpectedly  extended  his  holiday  ?  [A  universal  roar  of  delight. 

Bob.  Just  his  pulpit  manner,  isn't  it?  (Sottovoce,  to  FLOSSIE.) 
Now  perhaps  you  '11  own  I  was  right  about  DORMER  ? 

Flossie  (in  the  same  tone,  to  him).  I  must  say  he  can  be  awfully 
clever  and  amusing — when  he  chooses. 

Grace  (replying  to  the  Rector).  You  can  plead  no  excuse  for 
trying  to  be  clever  at  the  expense  of  a  clergyman  who,  with  all 
his  peculiarities,  has  fifty  times  your  brains. 

The  Rector  (to  himself).  I  should  not  have  said  that  BARLAM'S 

brains  were- But  why  should  I  let  myself  be  annoyed  by 

such  a  trifle?  (Aloud.)  My  dear  young  lady,  need  I  protest 
that  I  had  not  the  slightest  ideah ? 

Bob.  Leave  this  to  me,  GRACE.  (To  the  Rector.)  Not  the 
slightest  idea  ?  No,  old  chap,  nobody  here  ever  supposed  you 
had !  [Applause. 

The  Rector  (to  himself).  I  trust  I  am  not  unduly  puffed  up  with 
the  pride  of  intellect — but  really!  (Aloud.)  I  came  here  in 
the  hope  that  the  natural — ah — bond  between  the  Rectory  and 
the  Manor —  (Shouts  of  laughter.)  Don't  you  think— (with 
pathos) — don't  you  think  you  are  making  this  rather  difficult 
tor  me  ? 

Flossie.  It  would  be  easy  enough  for  anyone  who  wasn't  a 
hopeless  idiot. 

The  Rector  (to  himself).  Can  there  be  insanity  in  this  family? 
Merely  ill-manners,  I  suspect.  I  won't  give  up  just  yet.  Per- 
haps, by  patience  and  sweetness,  I  shall  win  them  over  in  the 
end.  (Aloud,  with  laboured  urbanity.)  I  am  indeed  in  the 
Palace  of  Truth !  But  there — we  must  no  more  look  for  rever- 
ence from  the  young  than  for — er — figs  from  an — um — ah — thistle. 
Must  we  ? 

Ivy  Goring.  I  should  have  thought  myself  you  would  prefer 
the — um — ah — thistles.  [Uproarious  applause. 

The  Rector  (gasping).  You  compel  me  to  remind  you  of  a 
certain  passage  in  the  beautiful  Catechism  of  our  Church 
which 

Gillian  Pinceney.  Please  don't.  There  are  some  things  which 
should  be  respected — even  by  a  professional  buffoon  ! 

The  Rector  (thunderstruck).  A  professional  buff 1  (Allow- 
ing his  voice  to  boom.)  Is  there  nobody  here  capable  of  answering 
the  most  ordinary  remark  without  some  monstrous  insult  ? 

Colin.  Not  youar  remarks. 

The  Rector  (to  himself) .  I  never  was  in  such  a  household  in  all 
my  life — -never!     (Aloud.)     As  far  as  I  can  distinguish  in  this 
dusk,  there  is  a  little  girl  sitting  over  there.     I'm  sure  she- — 
(To  Connie.)     Are  you  fond  of  animals,  little  girl  ? 

Connie.  I  m  not  fond  of  animals  like  you. 

[A   felicitous  repartee,  which  is   received   with   the   wildest 
enthusiasm. 

The  Rector  (to  himself).  I  will  make  just  one  more  effort.  (To 
Mrs.  SHT/TTLEWORTH.)  You  must  find  a  great  pleasure,  Mrs. 
— ah — SHTJTTLEWORTH,  in  occupying  such  a  picturesque,  and,  I 
may  say,  historic  house  as  this  ? 

Mrs.  Shutt.  (wiping  her  eyes) .  Oh,  dear,  is  it  me  again  ?  .  .  . 
Yes,  it  is  a  pleasant  house — except  when  one  has  to  entertain 
tiresome  visitors  who  will  ask  foolish  questions. 

The  Rector.  You  may  rely  upon  being  secure  from  such  inflic- 
tions for  the  future,  madam.  (With  warmth.)  Why,  why  is  it 
that  I  can  count  upon  a  kindly  welcome  in  the  humblest  cottage, 
whereas  here —  [He  chokes. 

Miss  Markham  (demurely).  I  really  can't  say.  Perhaps  cot- 
tagers are  not  very  particular. 

The  Rector  (passing  his  hand  over  his  brow).  I  confess  I  am 
utterly  at  a  loss  to  understand  what  all  this  means  ! 

Colin.  Keep  on  asking  questions.  Ask  GRACE  how  she  'd  like 
to  be  the  Reverend  Mrs.  POLY,  and  see  what  she  says.  Mummy 
said  only  the  other  day  how  nice  it  would  be  if — 

The  Rector  (rising).  Silence,  boy!  I  have  heard  enough!  I  have 
stayed  too  long.  I  will  go,  before  I  am  tempted  to  disgrace  niy 
calling  by  some  unclerical  outburst ! 

All  (in  fits  of  laughter).  No,  no,  you  mustn't  go  yet.  You 
haven't  said  how  we  've  received  you ! 

The  Rector  (in  a  white  rage).  How?  How!!  .  .  .  Why, 
outrageously  1  Abominably ! !  [General  hissing. 

All.  Wrong,  wrong !  You  haven't  got  it  yet.  Don't  give  it 
up !  Try  again  ! 

The  Rector  (stiffly).  Pardon  me — but  a  necessarily  restricted 
vocabulary [Howls  of  laughter. 

Flossie  (as  they  calm  down).  Well,  the  right  adverb  was  "  rudely.'' 

The  Rector.  I  am  not  prepared  to  dispute  it.  Though  there 
are  others  which  perhaps  are  even  more 

Flossie.  I  thought  you  saw  it  long  ago.  We  might  have  been 
a  little  ruder,  perhaps. 


JUNB  5,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


269 


The  lli'itor.  I  should  be  sorry  to  question  your  capability 
but  still,  I  can  hardly  conceive  that  possible. 

Mrs.  .S/iuJf.  Well,  I  don't  know  when  I've  had  such  a  good 
laugh.  It  certainly  is  a  most  amusing  game.  Or  at  least  you 
made  it  so.  How  wonderfully  you  did  take  the  poor  dear  Hector 
off,  to  be  sure  I  When  you  first  came  in,  I  said  to  myself,  "  That 
can't  be  Mr.  DOHMJEB  I  "  But  of  course,  directly  you  began  to  be 
.so  ridiculous,  I  remembered  BOB  had  told  us  what  a  mimic  you 
were.  You  really  ought  to  go  on  the  stage.  You'd  make  your 
fortune  as  ail  actor,  you  would  indeed! 

The  Hector  (dropping  feebly  tutu  u  chuir).  I — uli  you  do  me 
too  much  honour,  my  dear  Mrs.  Sunn  I.KWOKTH.  (Tu  himself.) 
Ih, '.vi  limit-  dour  deluded  people!  I  see  now.  .  .  It  was  a 
game.  .  .  They  didn't  know  me  in  the  dark — they  don't  know 
me  now!  .  .  .  What  a  position — for  them  and  me.  What  a 
horrible  position! 

Mrs.  ,S'/iutt.  GRACE,  my  dear,  will  you  ring  for  the  lights? 

The  Rector  (to  himself).  The  lights!  If  they're  brought  in,  I 
shall  never  be  able  to  look  these  people  in  the  face  again ! 
(Aloud.)  Er — ah — so  pleased  to  have  afforded  you  so  much — um — 
ah — innocent  amusement — but  I  "m  a  little  fatigued,  and,  if  you  'II 
allow  me,  I — I  think  I'll  slip  away. 

IHe  mates  his  exit,  amidst  hearty  rounds  of  applause. 

IN  TUB   LlBRlRY — A   LIITLE   LATKR. 

Bob  (to  DORMER,  whom  he  discovers  asleep  on  a  sofa).  What, 
lying  down,  old  chap  ?  Well,  I  must  say  you  deserve  a  rest  after 
your  labours. 

Dormer  (apologetically).  Tramping  over  those  beastly  wet  roots 
does  take  it  out  of  a  fellow.  But  hasn't  somebody  called — the 
Hector,  wasn't  it  ? 

Bob.  What  a  chap  you  are!  I  should  jolly  well  think  it  uxu 
the  Rector!  Joking  apart,  old  man,  you  were  simply  ripping! 
How  on  earth  you  got  old  POLY'S  voice  and  manner  so  perfectly, 
after  only  hearing  nim  onoe,  beats  me.  What  with  the  room 
being  dark  and  that,  I  swear  that  once  or  twice,  when  we  were 
nil  rotting  you,  and  being  as  beastly  rude  as  we  knew,  I  half 
thought  you  really  were  the  Rector  I 

Dormer  (to  himself).  The  Rector  must  have  had  the  Deuce's 
own  time  of  itl  (Aloud.)  I— I  hope  your  mother  isn't — er— 
doesn't ? 

Bob.  The  Mater?  Not  she!  She  was  in  fits.  And  as  for  the 
girls,  why,  they  're  all  raving  about  you ! 

liiirmi'r.  Are  they,  though?  Very  nice  of  them.  (To  him- 
self.) I 'in  like  Thingummy — I've  awoke  to  find  myself  famous  1 

li,,li.  The  way  you  kept  it  up  to  the  very  end! 

l>tirmer.  I'm  glad  you  think  I  kept  it  up  to  the  very  end. 

Bob.  Your  exit  was  a  stroke  of  genius.     I  'm  not  flattering 


I  say,  you'll  do  old 


Bob.    

you,  old  chap,  it  was  downright  genius. 
POLY  for  us  again  after  dinner,  eh  ? 

Dormer.  My  dear  fellow,  I  couldn't  if  you  paid  me.     Besides, 

I i  >d  rather,  if  you  don't  mind,  it  didn't  get  talked  about ;  it — 

well,  it  might  be  awkward,  don't  you  know. 

Bob  (nodding  his  head  sapiently).  I  see.     You  mean,  it  might 
get  round  to  the  Rector,  eh  ? 

Dormer.  Exactly.     It  might — er— get  round  to  the  Rector. 

THE   END. 


"CHURCH  AND  STAGE." 

MY  DEAR  MR.  PUNCH,— For  years  I  have  taken  the  greatest 
iiitnvst  in  tliis  subject,  and  am  so  delighted  to  see  that  at  last 
we  have  a  notable  composer  of  comic  oratorios  and  serious  operas 
—no,  I  beg  pardon.  I  meant  t'other  way  about,  composer  of 
serious  oratorios  and  of  comic  operas— (I  am  not  sure  whether 
he  has  done  more  than  one  of  the  former,  but  this  is  a  detail) 
—writing  a  Jubilee  Ballet  for  the  Alhambra  to  a  scenario  by  a 
Signor  CARJ.O  COPPI  (this  name  as  pronounced  Englishly  is  no* 
buszeestive  of  much  originality),  and  at  the  same  time  composing 
a  hymn-tune  for  the  Diamond  Jubilee  Service  to  words  wntten 
by  the  Bishop  of  Wakefield,  a  diocese  ever  memorable  because  of 
its  immortal  Goldsmithian  Vicar.  But  why  didnt  these  two 
forces  combine  before  ?  Why  didn't  the  Bishop  write  the  ballet, 
for  which  Sir  ARTHUR  could  have  supplied  the  music,  and  then 
the  composer  would  not  have  had  to  seek  abroad  for  a  foreigner 
to  invent  what  was  intended  to  be  pre-eminently  English,  with 
lots  of  lluk  Britannia,  Girls  I  left  behind  me  with  British  Grena- 
diers, and  all  sorts  of  popular  national  melodies  so  mixed  up  in 
it  as  to  leave  but  comparatively  little  space  for  the  composer  s 
own  charming  and  original  work.  Let  us  hope  that  soon,  re- 
membering the  success  of  the  Vicar  so  capitally  played  by  the 
Rev  Mr.  BABRINGTON  in  The  Sorcerer,  we  may  look  forward  to 
n  Ballet  of  Bishops  with  the  most  graceful  pastoral  music  from 
the  Sullivanian  pen.  At  last  there  is  a  chance  of  union  between 


• 


A    NEW    RELATION. 

Dora.    "JACK,   WHO  WAS  THAT    LADY   WITH   YOUR  FATHER!    I 
DIDN'T  KNOW  YOU  HAD  A  SISTER." 

Jack.    "OH,    THAT  ONE  ISN'T   A  SlSTEH.      THAT'S    FATHER'S    SlKP- 
WlFE  !  " 


Church  and  Stage.  Did  not  Sir  HKNBT,  as  a  Canterbury  Pilgrim, 
do  penance  at  the  shrine  of  BECKET,  last  Monday,  by  reading 
TKNNYSON'S  plav  to  all  and  sundry  in  the  restored  Cathedral 
Chapter  House?  and  has  not  Sir  AUTIIHH  composed  an  Alham- 
bra  Jubilee  Ballet  and  a  Jubilee  Hymn  with  a  Bishop  as  collabora- 
teur?  "Now  we  sha'n't  be  long!"  Is  the  other  ARTHUR,  sur- 
named  ROBERTS,  that  light-hearted  link  between  stage  and  music- 
hall,  preparing  any  little  surprise  for  us?  Congratulations  to 
clergy  and  composers,  Yours,  JUBILEE  JIOOINS. 

P.S. — What  a  characteristic  song  for  Sir  ARTHUR,  with  dance, 
which  he  could  compose  for  himself,  would  be  "7  am  so  versa! il'  .'" 
I  forget  who  wrote  it.  By  the  way,  Church  and  Stage  were  once 
upon  a  time,  in  the  long-ago  period,  united  in  the  person  of 
that  delightful  composer  with  an  ecclesiastical  title,  Sir  HENRY 
BISHOP. 

Old  Doggerel  brought  Up-to-Date. 

THERE  was  a  Qreek  in  Thessaly.  and  he  was  most  unwise, 

He  dashed  at  a  Turk  "  hedge  of  spears,"  and  scratched  out  both 

his  eyes. 

But,  when  he  saw  his  eyes  were  out,  with  all  his  might  and  main, 
He  tried  another  (sporting)  "  hedge,"  to  scratch  them  in  again  I 

"  IXFELICE  !  " — It  was  not  a  happy  thought  that  inspired  Signor 
FEI.ICB  to  insult  the  Italian  Premier,  Signor  RALLI.  The 
latter  being,  to  use  a  prize-fighting  term,  "a  sharp  Ralli,"  the 
result  was  temporary  imprisonment  for  FKLIOE,  and  subsequent 
release  owing  to  intervention  of  Italian  Minister.  Felicitations 
to  FELICE. 


270 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  '  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNK  5,  1897. 


A    NEW    GAME. 

PLAYING  AT  JUBILEES  ;  OR,  MAKING  A  KNIGHT  OF  IT. 


DIARY  OF  AN  INTELLIGENT  FOREIGNER. 

Monday. — Guide  book  tells  me  that  I 
should  see  Trafalgar  Square.  Said  to  be 
the  finest  sight  and  site  in  Europe.  Find 
my  way  there.  Nothing  but  scaffolding. 
Can  hear  splash  of  water  behind  hoardings. 
Possibly  fountains.  Mounting  out  of  the 
tiers  of  seats  a  column  with  a  figure  on  the 
summit,  presumably  NELSON.  Not  sure 
of  anything,  save  placard  about  "  Seats  to 
view  the  procession." 

Tuesday.— Off  to  St.  Paul's.  Must  see 
the  cathedral  before  I  return  to  the  conti- 
nent. Again  enormous  scaffolding.  Dome 
in  the  distance.  Disappointing. 

Wednesday.  —  Pall  Mall  said  by  guide 
book  to  be  a  "  street  of  palaces."  Must 
admire  the  different  architecture  of  the 
Carlton,  the  United  Service,  and  the  Re- 
form. Can  see  nothing  but  scaffolding. 

Thursday.  —  Obeying  instructions,  visit 
Piccadilly.  Same  view.  Scaffolding  here, 
scaffolding  there,  scaffolding  everywhere. 
Rows  of  planks  monotonous. 

Friday.— Must  look  up  Whitehall.  Full 
of  historical  recollections.  CHARLES  THE 
FIRST,  INIGIO  JONES,  original  site  of  pro- 
duction of  "Maske  of  Flowers,"  and  the 
rest  of  it.  Frontage  of  everything  hidden 
by  scaffolding.  Seats — nothing  but  seats. 

Saturday. — Have  had  enough  of  it. 
Scribble  this  as  I  pack  up  my  bag  en  route 
for  native  land.  Will  return  to  London  to 
see  it — after  the  Diamond  Jubilee. 


OPERATIC  NOTES. 

Saturday,  May  22. — House  crowded  for  Lohengrin  on  anniver- 
sary of  its  composer's  birthday.  Prince  and  Princess  of  WALES 
present.  HERR  SEIDL,  whose  name  suggests  the  first  half  of 
a  Seidl-itz  powder,  conducting  splendidly,  but  much  astonished 
when  Madame  EMMA  EAMES  walked  down — no  1  s'idle'd  down — to 
footlights,  and,  when  his  back  was  turned,  tapping  him  on  the 
shoulder  just  to  draw  his  attention  to  fact  that  she  personally 
wished  to  congratulate  him  on  his  conducting  by  shaking  hands 
with  him  ;  after  which  ceremony  he  could  emphatically  shake 
hands  with  himself.  Much  amusement  and  considerable  ap- 
plause. It  was  musically  suggested  that  the  orchestra  should 
welcome  HERR  SEIDL  by  playing  the  old  tune  of  the  song  "  Get 
your  hair  cut."  Perhaps  the  advice,  meant  in  quite  compli- 
mentary spirit,  would  have  been  better  conveyed  by  performing 
some  airs  of  LOCK'S.  Chorus  excellent.  MARIE  BREMER  the  best 
Ortruda  up  to  now,  with  Brother  JOHNNIE  and  Brother  TEDDY 
DE  RENZKK  as  Lohengrin  and  King  respectively.  They  received 
a  grand  ovation.  Mr.  BISPHAM  as  Telramund,  and  EMMA  EAMES, 
as  Somebody-EZsa,  completed  a  cast  on  which  the  Covent  Garden 
management  is  to  be  heartily  congratulated. 

Tuesday. — Big  Night  for  Big  People.  Royalties  and  RESZKIES. 
EMMA  EAMES  woke  up  in  her  acting,  and  was  almost  the  ideal 
Juliet,  though  even  as  prima  donna  just  a  bit  too  prim  for 
SHAKSPEAHE'S  gushing  young  Venetian  of  sweet  seventeen,  if  as 
much.  No  matter  about  the  Bard,  though ;  this  Juliet  is 
GOUNOD'S.  What  age  Borneo?  If  JOHNNIE  DE  RESZKE  be  ideal 
Borneo  (as  he  undoubtedly  is,  both  operatically  and  dramatically), 
then,  considering  him  as  a  fine-grown  youth  of  twenty-five,  you 
have  a  Juliet  at  ten  years  less.  There  you  are.  EDWARD  DE 
RESZKE  excellent  as  Friar  Laurent,  the  Botanical  Brother 
and  Herbalistic  Hermit,  quite  big  enough  to  represent  himself 
and  the  apothecary  (who  does  not  appear),  and  be  two  single 
vocalists  rolled  into  one.  Always  think  that  if  a  suite  were  com- 
posed to  this  opera.  Friar  Laurent  ought  to  be  represented  as 
having  obtained  a  dispensation  from  his  vows  of  celibacy  in  order 
to  marry  Gertrude  (Juliet's  nurse,  with  an  excellent  character 
from  her  last  place  in  SHAKSPEARE'S  play),  whose  light  and  lead- 
ing features  are  on  this  occasion  so  charmingly  pourtrayed  by 
Mile.  BAUERMEISTBR.  In  balcony-scene  moon  a  bit  erratic, 
but  this  quite  Shakspearian,  and  in  keeping  with  the  lunatic 
"inconstant"  characteristics  attributed  to  it  by  original  poet. 
Stage  management,  evidently  benefited  by  Friendly  hints,  de- 
cidedly improved.  Merry  MANCINELLI  does  his  work  thoroughly, 
though  mysterious  musicians  will  assert  themselves  occasionally. 
Forgot  to  mention  old  Mister  Capulet,  the  Fat  Father,  in  excel- 
lent voice,  and  at  his  little  party  quite  a  host  in  himself,  and  as 


gay  a  dog  as  they  make  'em.  In  every  respect  a  triumphantly- 
suocessful  show  for  everybody  concerned. 

Wednesday. — Late  Dinners,  Parties,  and  QUEEN'S  Birthday 
Receptions  robbed  Manon  of  a  good  many  of  her  friends.  Pity, 
because  VAN  DYOK,  as  Des  Grieux,  restored  to  health  and  voice, 
and  Madame  SAVILLE  ("  Sa  ville"  de  noire,  ville  by  this  time),  as 
Manon,  transformed  Monsieur  MASSENET'S  light  work  into  Grand 
Opera.  PLANCON,  or  M.  PLAIN-SONG,  good  as  representing  stagey 
Heavy  Father.  Orchestra  asserted  itself  on  occasion  strongly  : 
very  natural,  however,  that  these  mysterious  musicians,  almost 
"  lost  to  sight,"  should,  just  now  and  then,  wish  to  recall  fact 
of  their  existence  to  memory  of  audience. 

Friday.  —  Lohengrin  again.  Grand,  with  Brother  NEDDY 
RESZKE  as  "  monarch  of  all  he  surveys,"  though  occasionally 
hidden  by  his  crowded  Court  of  remarkably  rude  Noblemen  ; 
with  the  Hieland  Lassie,  MAGGIE  MACINTYBE,  charmingly  naive 
as  Elsa,,  a  sort  of  "  Alice  in  Wonderland,"  and  singing  splendidly  ; 
and  with  JEAN  DE  RESZKE  magnificent  as  Lohengrin,  the  \\hite 
Knight,  who  floors  Sir  Bispham  Telramund,  the  Black  Knight, 
in  single  combat.  Mile.  MEISSLINGEH  (vice  MARIE  BREMER)  was 
the  "penny-plain-twopence-coloured"  female  villain,  singing 
well,  looking  handsome,  and  acting  just  as  female  villain  would 
act  in  such  circumstances.  Signor  PRINGLI  (Anglice  Mr. 
PRINGLE)  was  the  Herald.  I  do  not  credit  WAGSTAFF,  who  says 
PRINGLE  is  an  American,  and  therefore  ought  to  have  come  on 
as  "New  York  Herald."  I  suspect  WAGGY  is  joking,  even  if 
with  difficulty.  ANTON  SEIDL,  of  the  flowing  locks,  conducted 
wigorously.  Crowded  house.  Good  night. 

A  NEW  TABLE   OF  INTEREST. 

(Under  Government  Supervision.) 

ONE  touting  circular  equals  20  impecunious  replies. 

20  impecunious  replies  equal  £100— -advanced  at  60  per  cent. 

500  cases  of  60  per  cent,  equal  10,000  applications  to  the  Court 
of  Bankruptcy. 

10,000  applications  in  bankruptcy  equal  an  occasional  article 
in  the  newspapers. 

500  articles  in  the  newspapers  equal  a  growl  of  popular  indig- 
nation. 

20  growls  of  popular  indignation  equal  a  money-lending 
innuiry. 

Numerous  meetings  of  a  money-lending  inquiry  equal  a  more 
or  less  valuable  report. 

One  more  or  less  valuable  report  equals  shelving  the  subject 
indefinitely. 

A  shelving  of  one  subject  indefinitely  equals  chronic  ruin  as 
before. 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— JUNE  5,  1897. 


.. 


BROKEN   TO   HARNESS.' 


Miss  ERIN.   "  SURE  IT  'S  A  NICE  PAIR  YE  'RE  DHRTVTN',  MI3THER  ARTHUR  !  " 
ABTU-R  B-LF-K.   "  YES— NEVER  THOUGHT  THEY  'D  GO  SO  WELL  TOGETHER  !  " 


JUNK  5,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


273 


A  POPULAK  ACTRESS  IN  TWO  PIECES. 
An  Optical  Delusion,  seen,  in  the  Strand,  and  due 
to  the  /aa/timuible  Bolero  Costume. 


DAKBY  JONES  ON  THE  DERBY. 

HONOURED  SIR,— I  trust  that  you,  with 
other  sagacious  clients,  planked  savings  on 
Victor  Wild  for  the  Jubilee  Stakes  at 
Kempton,  for  at  6  to  1  for  a  shop  he 
should  have  provided  many  loyal  and  de- 
serving with  the  wherewithal  to  procure 
windows  whence  to  view  the  Commemo- 
ration Progress  of  Her  Most  Gracious 
Majesty  the  QUEEN.  I  regret  to  say  that, 
from  the  sporting  point  of  view,  the  Dia- 
mond Jubilee  Derby  is  not  likely  to  vie 
with  the  Procession  aforesaid.  In  Little 
Doctor  Faust,  the  light  work  of  the  late 
lamented  BYRON  (the  dramatist  and  actor, 
not  the  peer  and  Phil-Hellene),  there  was 
a  catching  chorus,  "  fFe  should  ne'er  for- 
get the  days  wlien  we  i>xre  young."  Pro- 
bably on  account  of  the  beauty  of  the 
ladies,  who  delivered  the  sentiment  musi- 
cally and  trippingly,  the  refrain  was  very 
well  liked  by  the  most  "  dosey "  fre- 
quenters of  the  Gaiety  Theatre,  young 
bloods  who,  then  nurtured  on  chicken  and 
champagne,  are  now  reduced  to  the 
humble  half-and-half,  and  the  vulgar,  but 
nutritious,  beef  a  la  mode.  With  your 
lightning-like  habit  of  detecting  bad  florins, 
you  will  naturally  ask,  Sir,  "What  on 
earth  has  this  to  do  with  the  Derby?" 
Ready  for  your  not  unjustifiable  attack, 
I  reply,  "  Because  one  of  the  dainty  dam- 
sels who  did  justice  to  the  ditty  in  ques- 
tion, induced  me  at  Epsom  in  1876  to 


become  her  commissioner  to  the  extent  o 
five  indisputable  sovereigns  on  the  chances 
"i  l\tiber.  As  you  are  well  aware,  Mr 
BALTAZZI'S  auirnal  was  rewarded  with  the 
Blue  Hibbou  of  Tattciihum  Corner;  bu 
alack  1  alas  1  and  well-a-duy  !  the  gentee 
IK-IK  ill<-i-  with  whom  1  had  done  business 
tin  behalf  of  uiy  lair  client  made  tracks  lor 
.Snowdou.  I  had,  thuruforu,  to  .settle  his 
account  with  tho  songstress,  thereby  im- 
perilling the  continuance  of  a  somewhat 
precarious  income.  .Nor  was  the  lady 
grateful  tor  my  self-sacrifice,  for  she — 
but  cm  IHJIW,  us  the  Bard  hath  it '(  Suffice 
it  to  say  1  shall  never  "forget  the  days 
when  we  were  young."  Derby  Day  always 
ivralls  extraordinary  experiences.  I  once 
had  a  cousin,  a  hopeless  ne'er-do-weel,  who 
was  from  time  to  time  expatriated  to 
British  Columbia,  or  West  Australia,  or 
Texas,  or  the  West  Coast  of  Africa,  pro- 
vided with  a  brand  now  outfit,  red  flannel 
shirts,  white  duck  trousers,  and  a  com- 
fortable cheque.  But  he  always  turueu 
up  at  Epsom  on  Derby  Day,  and  then  he 
was  subscribed  for  again,  i  also  knew  a 
man  who  went  to  the  Derby  with  the  sole 
object  of  seeing  a  dead-heat.  He  never 
wagered  a  copper  on  tha  race.  In  1884, 
when  Mr.  HAMMOND'S  St.  Gatien  and  Sir 
JOHN  WILLOUGIIBY'S  Harvester  accom- 
plished the  trick,  my  poor  friend  was  laid 
up  in  bed.  He  never  recovered  the  shock, 
so  his  housekeeper  told  me.  Anyhow,  he 
withdrew  from  this  World  a  few  weeks 
ifterwards.  I  was  also  acquainted  with  a 
Great  Lady — quite  understand,  Sir,  as  a 
nebulous  satellite.  She  was  accustomed  to 
dream  about  races — some  ladies  are — and 
in  the  Jubilee  Year  of  1887,  she  had  a 
vision  that  Merry  Hampton  would  win  the 
Derby.  She  implored  her  husband  to 
nortgage  his  property  in  order  to  back 
Ur.  "  ABINGTON'S"  candidate.  But  her 
spouse  was  callous,  and  refused  to  entrust 
h<>  animal  with  even  so  much  as  half-a- 
irown.  The  result  of  the  race  led,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  to  separation  for  life  between 
the  Dreamstress  and  her  mate.  Again,  1 
never  plant  my  boot  on  the  Downs  with- 
out recalling  the  query  of  a  famous  Re- 
veller  of  the  Tom  and  Jerry  days,  "  How 
many  four-year-olds  have  been  returnee 
winners  of  the  Derby  ?  "  Incarceration  in 
one  of  the  QUEEN'S  Compulsory  Hotels 
would  suit  neither  you,  honoured  Sir,  nor 
me,  so  I  refrain  from  transcribing  the  Re- 
veller's answer  to  his  own  question.  But 
away  with  the  Past.  Let  the  Muse  speak  of 
Jie  Future  I  There  will  be  a  very  small 
ield,  unlikely  to  get  into  double  figures, 
like  a  moderate  cricketer.  Well  satisfied 
as  to  the  peril  of  his  position,  the  Bard 
delivers  himself  as  follows :  — 

It  seems  a  gift  for  KendaVs  Son, 

Yet  I  prefer  the  fainter. 
The  Yankte  chance  in  not  quite  done, 

Tlie  FrtMchman't  hope  u  fainter. 
ti  intone  Talt  will  not  prevail, 

Nor  yet  an  Ardent  rush  ; 
A  Sli  mtr  we  can  scarcely  hall, 
But  if  the  Favourite  should  run  stale, 

Look  out  for  Juicey's  Srutk. 

Trusting  to  meet  you  on  the  Hill,  where 
the  asparagus,  the  lobster,  the  salmon,  the 
prawn,  and  the  quail  mingle  so  refresh- 
ingly together  about  the  Fountains  of  the 
"Boy" 

I  am,  as  usual,  honoured  Sir, 
Your  Helot  and  Vates  in  one, 

DARBY  JONES. 


FISHING  INTERROGATORY  TO  LABBT. — 
"  Got  a  Beit  ?  " 


TWO  KINGS. 
(ENGLAND,  1649.      GRKECK,   1- 

KINU  CHARLES,  the  Stuart,  lost  his  throne, 

And  after,  lost  his  head. 
"In  not  tkut  sequence,  though,  alone, 

A  King  hath  cause  to  dread. 
Another  King,  ambition-led, 

His  fate  must  now  bemoan. 
A  monarch  who  hits  "lost  his  lusul," 

Perchance  may  lose  his  throne ! 


THK  ISLINGTON  TOURNAMENT  ONOK 
AGAIN — and  if  possible,  more  popular  than 
•  •ver.  The  opening  day  was  a  success ;  but 
the  show  was  too  long,  and  the  repetitions 
were  wearisome,  except,  perhaps,  to  those 
insatiable  Olivers  who  are  always  asking 
for  more.  Captain  DANN  of  the  stentorian 
voice,  who  towards  the  end  of  the  fort- 
night always  qualifies  himself  for  a  Hoarse 
Guardsman,  is  there  to  be  seen  and  heard. 
As  he  enters,  the  band  ought  to  play 
"  Roary  O'Moore,"  as  he  is  quite  the  Dan 
de  Lion  of  the  exhibition.  But  'tis  a  far 
cry  to  Islington,  and  is  it  not  possinln  to 
move  the  show  "  To  the  west,  to  the  west," 
as  veteran  HENRY  RUSSELL  used  to  sing  ? 


SONGS  OF  SPRING  (ONIONS). 

(By  an  Enviout  Poet.) 

[ "  It  is  no  longer  considered  a  sign  of  genius  to 
live  on  lilies  ;  the  poetical  faculty  in  particular  seems 
nowadays  best  cultivated  on  beef  and  beer." 

Daily  Paper.] 


IP  you  'd  know  the  precise  apparatus 
To  produce  the  poetic  afflatus, 

You  need,  it  is  clear, 

But  a  pint  pot  of  beer 
And  a  big  plate  o'  beef  an'  pertatus  ! 


A  QUESTION  WHICH  MIGHT  BE  ASKED  (it 
NOT  ANSWERED)  IN  PARLIAMENT. — In  view 
of  the  danger  which  the  National  Collec- 
tions at  South  Kensington  run  from  risk 
)f  fire,  what  are  the  Commissioners  of  the 
International  Exhibitions  of  1851  and  1862 
doing  with  the  income  derived  from  the 
>roperty  in  their  charge?  Perhaps  de- 
voting the  money  to  the  extinction  of 
rabbits  in  Australia,  or  the  exploration  of 
,he  South  Pole. 


274 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


5,  1897. 


Master  Tom.  "I  SAY,  PATER,  DID  YOU  BUY  THAT  BOAT  FOK  ME  OR  POP.  YOURSELF!' 


FLYING  VISITS. 

THE  other  day  the  King  of  the  B-LO-NS 
arrived  at  Balmoral  from  London  at  mid- 
day. Later  in  the  afternoon  His  Majesty 
left  Scotland. 

President  F-RE  is  expected  shortly  at 
St.  Petersburg.  He  will  arrive  about 
11  A.M.,  and  after  dtjeuner  with  the  Em- 
peror, will  immediately  return  to  France 
by  special  train. 

The  King  of  S-M  will  probably  visit 
Ireland  during  his  stay  in  this  country. 
His  visit,  lasting  about  five  minutes,  will 
enable  him  to  taste  a  glass  of  whiskey  and 
water  at  the  Viceregal  Lodge,  after  which 
he  will  return  to  London. 

The  GT-RM-K  EMP-B-R  will  probably  visit 
Paris  incognito  late  one  evening  early  this 
week.  After  spending  half  an  hour  at  the 
Moulin  Rouge,  his  Majesty  will  return  to 
Berlin  by  special  train. 

The  King  of  the  B-LG-NS  may  perhaps 


go  to  the  Congo  State  from  Saturday  to 
Monday.  A  peaceful  Sunday  in  those 
happy  countries,  so  recently  endowed  with 
all  the  blessings  of  civilisation  by  the  noble 
and  self-sacrificing  zeal  of  the  officials,  will 
doubtless  prove  very  restful. 

Sir  E.  ASHM-D  B-BTL-TT  is  going  to 
spend  half  an  hour  with  the  S-LT-N  at 
Yildiz  Kiosk.  His  Majesty  intends  tasting 
a  very  fine  brand  of  sherbet  which  he  has 
recently  obtained. 

Mr.  L-B-CH-BE,  as  soon  as  his  engage- 
ments permit,  intends  accepting  President 
KR-O-B'S  invitation  to  a  meat  tea,  with 
pickles  and  jam,  followed  by  a  quiet  pipe. 
About  9.30  P.M.,  the  party  will  separate, 
and  Mr.  L-B-CH-RE  will  return  direct  to 
London. 


QUAINT  REVENGE  OF  TIME. — The  only 
thing  now  feared  at  Yildiz  Kiosk  by  the 
SULTAN  is  the  sack. 


THE  TWO  BOOKIES. 
'A  BALLAD  OF  BARGAINS. 
(£y  a  Badly -d<me  Bookseller.) 

^AiB—  '\The  Heathm  Chinee." 

WELL.  I  wish  to  remark, 

And  my  speech  shall  be  plain, 

That  for  tricks  that  are  dark, 
And  for  ways  that  are  vain, 

A  Book-Aunter  beats  a  "  Bookmaker," 
And  that  I  am  bold  to  maintain  1 

The  "Bookie,"  I'm  told, 

If  a  shadyish  sort ; 
But  I  say,  and  I  hold, 

He's  a  fair-and-square  "Sport," 
Compared  with  the  sly  Book-collector 

Who  visits  my  shop  down  the  court. 

He  will  bounce  you  to  sell 

At  the  price  of  a  "  bob," 
What  he  knows  very  well 

Is  a  bargain.    I  sob 
When  I  think  on  the  way  I  've  been  diddled, 

By  Book-hunters  keen  on  the  job  1 

I,  too,  know  a  bit 

About  books,  and  the  like, 
But  some  harpies  who  flit 

Round  my  stall — well,  a  pike 
Is  not  half  so  cunning  or  greedy 

As  they  when  a  bargain  they  strike. 

They  come  looking  so  meek, 

With  such  innocent  eyes, 
And  their  style  is  so  sleek, 

That  one's  temper  it  tries. 
When  one  finds  they  have  done  one — for 
tuppence — - 

Out  of,  oh \  such  a  wonderful  prize  I 

They  put  on  a  frown, 

An  indifferent  glance, 
"Eh?    What?    Half-a-erown! 

Eighteen-pence  I     No  advance  I  " 
Then  they  pocket  a  prize  some  will  pur- 
chase 

At  ten  quid — and  glad  o'  the  chance  I 

The  times  I  've  been  done 

By  such  old  buffers — clean  1 !  I 
They  find  it  great  fun, 

A  fine  harvest  they  glean, 
And — well,    read  Mister     HAZLITT'S    Con- 
fessions," 

And  then  you  will  twig  what  I  mean. 

Which  is  why  I  remark, — 

And  I  put  it  quite  plain, — 
That  for  dodges  most  dark, 

And  devices  most  vain  ; 
The  Book-hunter  bangs  the  Bookmaker, 

And  the  same  I  am  bold  to  maintain ! 

*  The  Confessions  of  a  Collector.    By  WILLIAM 
CAREW  HAZLITT. 


ONE  OF  THE  TRUEST  OF  SHEFFIELD 
BLADES. — The  Duke  of  NORFOLK,  because 
he  never  cuts  anyone,  high  or  low,  rich  or 
poor.  Mr.  Punch  congratulates  the 
grinders  on  having  in  our  Premier  Peer  a 
Mayor,  who  tries  to  make  everyone  the 
merrier,  as  was  shown  when  the  QUEEN 
did  honour  to  the  metropolis  of  English 
steel  by  her  visit.  The  Duke  is  a  Great 
Englander,  and  the  men  and  women  of 
Yorkshire  rallied  round  the  flag  on  their 
flagstones  as  was  right,  and  just,  and  hon- 
ourable. The  Duke  of  NORFOLK  and  Shef- 
field showed  the  real  grit  of  the  country, 
and  sharpened  all  our  understanding. 


THE  Daily  News  states  that  Mr.  HOOLEY 
is  to  be  confirmed  by  the  Bishop  of  SOUTH- 
WELL. But  first  the  news  must  be  con- 
firmed. 


JUNE  5,   1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


275 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

KXTHACTKI)    KHOIC    THB    DlART    OF    TOMY,    M.]' 

//«.//»  ,,f  Commons,  Monday,  May  24. — 
WILLIAM  KDWAIUI  Ml HKAY  TOKLDOOll'l 
faith  in  mankind  has  received  painfu 
shock.  He  has  been  wounded  in  the 
house  of  a  friend.  Came  down  to-night 
brimful  of  pleasant  little  surprise  for  Com- 
mittee on  Employers'  Liability  Bill.  Mem- 
bers having  observed  the  firmness  and 
dexterity  with  which  SPEAKER  disposed  ot 
nine  out  of  ten  Instructions,  settled  down 
in  Committee,  prepared  to  discuss  innu- 
merable procession  of  amendments.  First 
on  paper  stood  in  name  of  NUSSEY.  He 
rose  to  full  height  with  intent  to  move  it 
when  an  even  more  commanding  figure 
was  discovered  on  its  feet  to  the  right  of 
the  Chair. 

"  Mr.  LOWTHER,  Sir,"  said  a  voice,  ana 
the  Committee  recognised  the  Statesman 
who  shares  with  Corporal  HANBURY  the 
representation  of  Preston.  "I  beg  leave  to 
move  that  you  report  progress,  and  ask 
leave  to  sit  again." 

The  Chairman,  half  turning  his  head 
and  catching  a  glimpse  of  TOMLINBON,  said 
something  that  sounded  uncommonly  like 
"Tut!  tut  I"  and  called  on  NUSSET  to 
proceed. 

At  the  moment  WILLIAM  EDWARD  MUR- 
RAY was  engaged  in  the  delicate  task  ot 
extracting  from  his  breast  pocket  the  notes 
of  a  luminous  speech.  All  very  well  for 
minor  Members  to  discuss  pettifogging 
amendments.  TOMLINSON  would  deal  with 
the  question  as  a  whole.  On  the  motion 
to  report  progress  he  would  view  the  situa- 
tion from  every  avenue;  would  convince 


'  Frivolous  "  T-ml-ns-n. 


the  Committee  that  the  best  thing  would 
be  to  drop  the  Bill — at  least  till  TOMLINSON 
had  time  to  further  consider  it.  Having  at 
last  lugged  his  manuscript  out,  smoothed 


out  the,  opening  page,  W.  E.  M.  T.  became 
conscious  of  the  fact  that  there  was  an- 
other Member  on  his  legs.  Nearly  oppo- 
site him  was  NUSSEY  saying  something  in 
stentorian  tones. 

Tliis  distinctly  out  of  order.  Only  one 
Member  may  be  on  his  feet  at  a  given 
moment.  And  hadn't  he,  the  many- 
initialled  TOMLINSON,  moved  to  report  pro- 
gress •" 

He  remained  standing,  regarding  Chair- 
man with  look  of  dignified  inquiry. 
NUSSEY  went  on.  There  were  cries  ol 
"Order  I  Order  I"  "Ha-ha!"  thought 
WILLIAM  EDWARD,  "they  are  shouting 
NUSSBY  down."  The  cries  rose  in  volume  ; 
attention  seemed  strangely  directed  to- 
wards him  (W.  E.  M.  T.)  ;he  was  conscious 
of  someone  pulling  at  his  coat-tails.  Then 
Chairman  turned  his  head,  and  with 
peremptory  wave  of  arm  ordered  him 
(ToMUNSON,  W.  E.  M.)  to  resume  his 
seat! 

Slowly,  even  though  assisted  by  the 
gentleman  attached  to  his  coat-tail,  T. 
dropped  into  his  seat.  Gradually  truth 
dawned  upon  him.  Chairman  regarding 
his  action  as  frivolous — fancy  TOMLINSON 
frivolous! — had  declined  to  hear  him. 

"  This,"  said  WILLIAM  EDWARD,  hoarsely, 

•hen  he  had  partially  recovered,  "  comes  of 

household  suffrage,  free  education,  and  the 

admission   of  women   to   the    Terrace    at 

teatime." 

/f  IMI  HC.M  done. — Employers'  Liability  Bill 
in  Committee. 

Tuesday. — Quite  affecting  air  of  injured 
innocence  about  SAGB  OF  QUEKN  ANNE'S 
GATB  as  ho  took  his  seat  to-night.  The 
lynx-eye  of  JEREMIAH  LOWTHER  has  dis- 
cerned in  him  the  victim  of  a  breach  of 
mvilege.  The  SAGE  been  "  saying  things  " 
i limit  Dr.  HARRIS,  and  his  colleagues  on 
South  Africa  Committee  have  censured 
trim.  JEREMIAH  finds  new  food  for 
Lamentation  in  this  procedure.  Has 
looked  up  the  authorities ;  finds  that  a 
trifle  over  a  couple  of  centuries  ago  House 
ordered  that  in  such  circumstances  Com- 
mittee should  report  to  it,  not  presume  to 
act  on  its  own  authority.  Action  by  Com- 
mittee re  the  SAGB  clearly  a  breach  of 
privilege.  Meant  to  raise  it  last  night ; 
lust  missed  opportunity.  Not  to  be  done 
igain  that  way.  So  this  evening,  ques- 
tions on  paper  over,  JEREMIAH  in  corner 
seat  below  Gangway  bobs  up  and  down 
"ike  a  middle-aged  cork  on  troubled  water. 

When  at  length  SPEAKER  calls  on  him, 
lis  judicial  manner  almost  appalling  in  its 
intensity.  Understand  now  how  it  once 
awed  the  Jockey  Club.  SARK  says  he 
would  give  anything  to  see  JEREMIAH  in 
Judge's  wig  and  gown.  Will  cheerfully 
plump  down  his  guinea  if  subscription  be 
got  up  to  present  him  with  one.  The 
spectacle  of  LOWTHER  (J.)  thus  arrayed, 
seated  below  Gangway,  would  invest  that 
awless  part  of  House  with  much-needed 
dignity.  As  it  is,  by  sheer  force  of  charac- 
ter and  sense  of  situation,  JEREMIAH  suc- 
ceeds without  adventitious  circumstances 
of  wig  and  gown.  Sublime  the  tone  and 
manner  with  which  he  remarked,  "  I  would 
desire  to  call  your  attention  to  the  resolu- 
tion passed  on  March  16,  1688."  Some 
nrivolous  Members  laughed.  House  gene- 
rally felt  older,  wiser,  in  closer  touch  with 
'-.istoric  England.  As  for  SAGE  OF  QUEEN- 
ANNE'S  GATE,  he  blushed  to  find  the  Cen- 
turies marshalled  on  his  behalf,  as  in 
'ourt  counsel  call  witnesses  to  character. 

LOWTHER  (J.)  not  the  kind  of  man  to 
mar  magnificent  generalities  with  mere 
particulars.  House  crowded  in  expecta- 


tion of  piquant  discussion  of  the  SAGE'S 
indiscretion,  and  the  South  Africa  Cmu- 
mittee's  irregularity.  "I  bring  forward  no 
particular  instance  or  case,"  said  Iris  I. mi- 
ship.  Gathering  imaginary  robes  round 
his  statuesque  figure,  he  resumed  his  teat. 


Mr.  Justice  (Jimmy)  J.-wth-r. 

Thereupon  House  went  into  Committee 
on  the  Employers'  Liability  Bill. 
Business  done. — Not  very  much. 

Thursday.  —  Grubbing  away  at  Em- 
ployers' Liability  Bill.  Debate  excellent; 
only  occasionally  exciting.  This  happens 
on  such  points  as  whether  a  workman  wil- 
ully  at  default  shall  obtain  compensation ; 
and  whether  the  parties  may  contract  out. 
DON  JOSE,  who  looks  after  the  HOME 
SECRETARY  and  the  Bill,  offers  compro- 
mise. Then  Members  on  one  side  or  other 
:ear  their  hair,  rend  their  clothes,  get 
Mr.  PRIM  to  send  in  a  few  ashes,  on  which 
hey  sit,  and  declare  "All  is  Lost." 

DON  JOSE  says,  "  No  such  thing.  Tke 
>roposed  amendment  to  the  amendment  to 
h"  proposed  amendment  as  amended  is 
lot  nearly  so  bad  (or  so  good)  as  the  hon. 
Member  thinks." 

Thereupon  the  bereaved  gets  up,  combs 
out  what  is  left  of  his  hair,  mends  his 
clothes,  gets  the  ashes  swept  away,  re- 
sumes his  seat  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
All  this,  of  course,  in  a  Parliamentary 
sense.  But  it's  about  the  sort  of  thing 
we  suffer  through  the  week. 

Business  done.  —  Employers'  Liability 
Sill  in  Committee. 

Friday.  —  ROBERT  ARTHUR  WARD,  the 
so-called  Member  for  Crewe,  really  has  set 
out  for  the  Cape.  SARK  saw  him  off  at 
Southampton,  after  vain  endeavour  to  in- 
duce him  to  stay  and  deliver  his  promised 
maiden  speech  in  Committee  on  the  Em- 
ployers' Liability  Bill. 

"The  fact  is,"  SARK  said  to  him  in  his 
'atherly  way,  "  we  don't  quite  know  where 
you  are.      Like   to   hear   your   views   on 
various  matters.     Now,  could  you  give  me 
brief    summarv    of    the   Public    Health 
(Scotland)  Bill?" 
"No,"  said  the  wearied  WARD,  edging 


274 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  5,  1897. 


Master  Tom.  "I  SAY,  PATER,  DID  YOU  BUY  THAT  BOAT  FOK  ME  OK  FOR  YOCRSELF?' 


FLYING  VISITS. 

THE  other  day  the  King  of  the  B-LQ-NS 
arrived  at  Balmoral  from  London  at  mid- 
day. Later  in  the  afternoon  His  Majesty 
left  Scotland. 

President  F-RE  is  expected  shortly  at 
St.  Petersburg.  He  will  arrive  about 
11  A.M.,  and  after  dtjeuner  with  the  Em- 
peror, will  immediately  return  to  France 
by  special  train. 

The  King  of  S-M  will  probably  visit 
Ireland  during  his  stay  in  this  country. 
His  visit,  lasting  about  five  minutes,  will 
enable  him  to  taste  a  glass  of  whiskey  and 
water  at  the  Viceregal  Lodge,  after  which 
he  will  return  to  London. 

The  G-RM-N  EMP-H-R  will  probably  visit 
Paris  incognito  late  one  evening  early  this 
week.  After  spending  half  an  hour  at  the 
Moulin  Rouge,  his  Majesty  will  return  to 
Berlin  by  special  train. 

The  King  of  the  B-LO-NS  may  perhaps 


go  to  the  Congo  State  from  Saturday  to 
Monday.  A  peaceful  Sunday  in  those 
happy  countries,  so  recently  endowed  with 
all  the  blessings  of  civilisation  by  the  noble 
and  self-sacrificing  zeal  of  the  officials,  will 
doubtless  prove  very  restful. 

Sir  E.  ASHM-D  B-RTL-TT  is  going  to 
spend  half  an  hour  with  the  S-LT-N  at 
Yildiz  Kiosk.  His  Majesty  intends  tasting 
a  very  fine  brand  of  sherbet  which  he  has 
recently  obtained. 

Mr.  L-B-CH-RE,  as  soon  as  his  engage- 
ments permit,  intends  accepting  President 
KH-G-RS  invitation  to  a  meat  tea,  with 
pickles  and  jam,  followed  by  a  quiet  pipe. 
About  9.30  P.M.,  the  party  will  separate, 
and  Mr.  L-B-CH-RE  will  return  direct  to 
London. 


QUAINT  REVENGE  OF  TIME. — The  only 
thing  now  feared  at  Yildiz  Kiosk  by  the 
SULTAN  is  the  sack. 


THE  TWO  BOOKIES. 

"A  BALLAD  OF  BARGAINS. 
(£y  a  £adly-d(me  Bookseller.) 

;AiB— '\The  Heathen  Chinee." 

WELL,  I  wish  to  remark, 

And  my  speech  shall  be  plain, 

That  for  tricks  that  are  dark, 
And  for  ways  that  are  vain, 

A  Book-Aunfer  beats  a  "  Bookmofcer," 
And  that  I  am  bold  to  maintain  1 

The  "Bookie,"  I'm  told, 

is  a  shadyish  sort ; 
But  I  say,  and  I  hold, 

He's  a  fair-and-square  "Sport," 
Compared  with  the  sly  Book-collector 

Who  visits  my  shop  down  the  court. 

He  will  bounce  you  to  sell 

At  the  price  of  a  "  bob," 
What  he  knows  very  well 

Is  a  bargain.    I  sob 
When  I  think  on  the  way  I  've  been  diddled, 

By  Book-hunters  keen  on  the  job  1 

I,  too,  know  a  bit 

About  books,  and  the  like, 
But  some  harpies  who  flit 

Round  my  stall — well,  a  pike 
Is  not  half  so  cunning  or  greedy 

As  they  when  a  bargain  they  strike. 

They  come  looking  so  meek, 

With  such  innocent  eyes, 
And  their  style  is  so  sleek, 

That  one's  temper  it  tries. 
When  one  finds  they  have  done  one — for 
tuppence — 

Out  of,  oh  1  such  a  wonderful  prize  I 

They  put  on  a  frown, 

An  indifferent  glance, 
"Eh?    What?    Half-a-crown! 

Eighteen-pence  I     No  advance ! " 
Then  they  pocket  a  prize  some  will  pur- 
chase 

At  ten  quid — and  glad  o'  the  chancel 

The  times  I  Ve  been  done 

By  such  old  buffers — clean  1 !  I 
They  find  it  great  fun, 

A  fine  harvest  they  glean, 
And — well,    read  Mister     HAZLITT'S    Con- 
fessions* 

And  then  you  will  twig  what  I  mean. 

Which  is  why  I  remark, — 

And  I  put  it  quite  plain, — 
That  for  dodges  most  dark, 

And  devices  most  vain; 
The  Book-hunter  bangs  the  Bookmaker, 

And  the  same  I  am  bold  to  maintain ! 

*  The  Confessions  of  a  Collector.    By  WILLIAM 
CAKEW  HAZLITT. 


ONE  OF  THE  TRUEST  OF  SHEFFIELD 
BLADES. — The  Duke  of  NORFOLK,  because 
he  never  cuts  anyone,  high  or  low,  rich  or 
poor.  Afr.  Punch  congratulates  the 
grinders  on  having  in  our  Premier  Peer  a 
Mayor,  who  tries  to  make  everyone  the 
merrier,  as  was  shown  when  the  QUEEN 
did  honour  to  the  metropolis  of  English 
steel  by  her  visit.  The  Duke  is  a  Great 
Englander,  and  the  men  and  women  of 
Yorkshire  rallied  round  the  flag  on  their 
flagstones  as  was  right,  and  just,  and  hon- 
ourable. The  Duke  of  NORFOLK  and  Shef- 
field showed  the  real  grit  of  the  country, 
and  sharpened  all  our  understanding. 


THE  Daily  News  states  that  Mr.  HOOLEY 
is  to  be  confirmed  by  the  Bishop  of  SOUTH- 
WELL. But  first  the  news  must  be  con- 
firmed. 


JUNE  5,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


275 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

KXTHACTKI)     FROM     THH     DlAKY     OP    TOBY,    M.T 


di/.sc  i,f  I'nmmons,  Monday,  May  24.  — 
WILLIAM  EDWARD  MURRAY  TOMLINBON'S 
faith  in  mankind  has  received  painful 
shock.  He  has  been  wounded  in  the 
house  of  a  friend.  Came  down  to-night 
brimful  of  pleasant  little  surprise  for  Com- 
mittee on  Employers'  Liability  Bill.  Mem- 
bers having  observed  the  firmness  and 
dexterity  with  which  SPEAKER  disposed  ot 
nine  out  of  ten  Instructions,  settled  down 
in  Committee,  prepared  to  discuss  innu- 
merable procession  of  amendments.  First 
on  paper  stood  in  name  of  NUSSEY.  He 
rose  to  full  height  with  intent  to  move  it 
when  an  even  more  commanding  figure 
was  discovered  on  its  feet  to  the  right  of 
the  Chair. 

"  Mr.  LOWTHER,  Sir,"  said  a  voice,  and 
the  Committee  recognised  the  Statesman 
who  shares  with  Corporal  HANBCRY  the 
representation  of  Preston.  "  I  beg  leave  to 
move  that  you  report  progress,  and  ask 
leave  to  sit  again." 

The  Chairman,  half  turning  his  head. 
and  catching  a  glimpse  of  TOMLINSON,  said 
something  that  sounded  uncommonly  like 
"Tut!  tut!"  and  called  on  NUSSKY  to 
proceed. 

At  the  moment  WILLIAM  EDWARD  MUR- 
RAY was  engaged  in  the  delicate  task  ot 
extracting  from  his  breast  pocket  the  notes 
of  a  luminous  speech.  All  very  well  for 
minor  Members  to  discuss  pettifogging 
amendments.  TOMLINSON  would  deal  with 
the  question  as  a  whole.  On  the  motion 
to  report  progress  he  would  view  the  situa- 
tion from  every  avenue  ;  would  convince 


'  t 'rivulotu  "  T-ml-ns-n. 


the  Committee  that  the  best  thing  would 
be  to  drop  the  Bill— at  least  till  TOMLINSON 
had  time  to  further  consider  it.  Having  at 
last  lugged  his  manuscript  out,  smoothed 


out  the  opening  page,  W.  E.  M.  T.  became 
conscious  of  the  fact  that  there  was  an- 
other Member  on  his  legs.  Nearly  oppo- 
site him  was  NUSSEY  saying  something  in 
stentorian  toni"-. 

This  distinctly  out  of  order.  Only  one 
Member  may  be  on  his  feet  at  a  given 
moment.  And  hadn't  he,  the  many- 
initialled  TOMLINSON,  moved  to  report  pro- 
gress? 

He  remained  standing,  regarding  Chair- 
man with  look  of  dignified  inquiry. 
NusgEY  went  on.  There  were  cries  ol 
"Order!  Order  I"  "Ha-ha!"  thought 
WILLIAM  EDWARD.  "  they  are  shouting 
NUSSEY  down."  Tne  cries  rose  in  volume  ; 
attention  seemed  strangely  directed  to- 
wards him  (W.  E.  M.  T.)  ;he  was  conscious 
of  someone  pulling;  at  his  coat-tails.  Then 
Chairman  turned  his  head,  and  with 
peremptory  wave  of  arm  ordered  him 
(TOMLINSON,  W.  E.  M.)  to  resume  his 
seat! 

Slowly,  even  though  assisted  by  the 
gentleman  attached  to  his  coat-tail,  T. 
dropped  into  his  seat.  Gradually  truth 
dawned  upon  him.  Chairman  regarding 
his  action  as  frivolous — fancy  TOMLINSON 
frivolous! — had  declined  to  hear  him. 

"  This,"  said  WILLIAM  EDWARD,  hoarsely, 
when  he  had  partially  recovered,  "  comes  of 
household  suffrage,  free  education,  and  the 
admission  of  women  to  the  Terrace  at 
tea  time." 

Business  done. — Employers'  Liability  Bill 
in  Committee. 

Tuesday. — Quite  affecting  air  of  injured 
innocence  about  SACK  OP  QUKRN  ANNE'S 
GATB  as  he  took  his  seat  to-night.  The 
lynx-eye  of  JEREMIAH  LOWTHER  has  dis- 
cerned in  him  the  victim  of  a  breach  of 
privilege.  The  SAGE  been  "  saying  things  " 
about  Dr.  HARRIS,  and  his  colleagues  on 
South  Africa  Committee  have  censured 
dim.  JEREMIAH  finds  new  food  for 
Lamentation  in  this  procedure.  Has 
looked  up  the  authorities ;  finds  that  a 
trifle  over  a  couple  of  centuries  ago  House 
ordered  that  in  such  circumstances  Com- 
mittee should  report  to  it,  not  presume  to 
act  on  its  own  authority.  Action  by  Com- 
mittee re  the  SACK  clearly  a  breach  of 
privilege.  Meant  to  raise  it  last  night; 
just  missed  opportunity.  Not  to  bs  done 
again  that  way.  So  this  evening,  ques- 
tions on  paper  over,  JEREMIAH  in  corner 
seat  below  Gangway  bobs  up  and  down 
like  a  middle-aged  cork  on  troubled  water. 

When  at  length  SPEAKER  calls  on  him, 
iiis  judicial  manner  almost  appalling  in  its 
intensity.  Understand  now  how  it  once 
awed  the  Jockey  Club.  SARK  says  he 
would  give  anything  to  see  JEREMIAH  in 
Judge's  wig  and  gown.  Will  cheerfully 
plump  down  his  guinea  if  subscription  be 
got  up  to  present  him  with  one.  The 
spectacle  of  LOWTHER  (J.)  thus  arrayed, 
seated  below  Gangway,  would  invest  that 
lawless  part  of  House  with  much-needed 
dignity.  As  it  is,  by  sheer  force  of  charac- 
ter and  sense  of  situation,  JEREMIAH  suc- 
ceeds without  adventitious  circumstances 
of  wig  and  gown.  Sublime  the  tone  and 
manner  with  which  he  remarked,  "  I  would 
desire  to  call  your  attention  to  the  resolu- 
tion passed  on  March  16,  1688."  Some 
Frivolous  Members  laugjbed.  House  gene- 
rally felt  older,  wiser,  in  closer  touch  with 
historic  England.  As  for  SAGE  OP  QUEEN 
ANNK'S  GATE,  he  blushed  to  find  the  Cen- 
turies marshalled  on  his  behalf,  as  in 
Court  counsel  call  witnesses  to  character. 

LOWTHER  (.1.)  not  the  kind  of  man  to 
mar  magnificent  generalities  with  mere 
particulars.  House  crowded  in  expecta- 


tion of  piquant  discussion  of  the  SU.K'M 
indiscretion,  and  the  South  Africa  Com- 
mittee's irn-uulnrity.  "I  bring  forward  no 
particular  instance  or  case,"  said  h. 
ship.  Gathering  imaginary  robes  round 
his  statuesque  figure,  he  resumed  his  seat. 


Mr.  Justice  (Jimmy)  J.-wtli-r. 

Thereupon  House  went  into  Committee 
on  the  Employers'  Liability  Bill. 

liti.'-iiii  *.<  done. — Not  very  much. 

Thursday.  —  Grubbing  away  at  Em- 
ployers' Liability  Bill.  Debate  excellent; 
only  occasionally  exciting.  This  happens 
pn  such  points  aa  whether  a  workman  wil- 
fully at  default  shall  obtain  compensation ; 
ind  whether  the  parties  may  contract  out. 
DON  JOSE,  who  looks  after  the  HOME 
SECRETARY  and  the  Bill,  offers  compro- 
mise. Then  Members  on  one  side  or  other 
tear  their  hair,  rend  their  clothes,  get 
Mr.  PRIM  to  send  in  a  few  ashes,  on  which 
they  sit,  and  declare  "  All  is  Lost." 

DON  JOSB  says,  "No  such  thing.  Tke 
iroposed  amendment  to  the  amendment  to 
;he  proposed  amendment  as  amended  is 
lot  nearly  so  bad  (or  so  good)  as  the  hon. 
Member  thinks." 

Thereupon  the  bereaved  gets  up,  combs 
out  what  is  left  of  his  hair,  mends  his 
clothes,  gets  the  ashes  swept  away,  re- 
iumes  his  seat  aa  if  nothing  had  happened. 

All  this,  of  course,  in  a  Parliamentary 
sense.  But  it's  about  the  sort  of  thing 
we  suffer  through  the  week. 

Business  done.  —  Employers'  Liability 
Bill  in  Committee. 

Friday.  —  ROBERT  ARTHUR  WARD,  the 
so-called  Member  for  Crewe,  really  has  set 
out  for  the  Cape.  SARK  saw  him  off  at 
Southampton,  after  vain  endeavour  to  in- 
duce him  to  stay  and  deliver  his  promised 
maiden  speech  in  Committee  on  the  Em- 
iloyers"  Liability  Bill. 

"  The  fact  is,"  SARK  said  to  him  in  his 
:atherly  way,  "  we  don't  quite  know  where 
you  are.  Like  to  hear  your  views  on 
various  matters.  Now,  could  you  give  me 

brief  summary  of  the  Public  Health 
(Scotland)  Bill:-" 

"No,"  said  the  wearied  WARD,  edging 


276 


PUNCH,   OR   THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JUNK  5,  1897. 


"  IMON    EST    INVENTUS." 

(A  Derby  Problem.) 
Ostler  (on  the  Downs,  after  the  Races).  "  DON'T  YOU  EVEN  REMEMBER  'is  COLOUR,  GUV'NOK?" 


off  towards  the  panting  tender.  "  I  don't 
think  I've  time  just  now.  Subject  most 
interesting ;  think  I  Ve  heard  the  Bill  con- 
tains 700  clauses,  and  that  CALDWELL  talks 
two  hours  and  forty  minutes  about  it 
every  day  select  Committee  meets.  Should 
like  above  all  things  to  join  in  your  de- 
liberation. Scotch  Committea  Room  sort 
of  Parliamentary  Rosherville,  don't  you 
know.  The  place  to  spend  a  happy  day. 
But  I've  got  an  engagement  in  South 
Africa  which  unfortunately  calls  me  off. 
Duty  first,  delight  after.  That's  my 
motto.  Ta  ta.  If  any  of  my  constituents 
ask  after  me,  say  I'll  be  back  soon.  In 
fact,  before  leaving  my  digging  in  Stratton 
Street,  I  had  a  little  bill  put  up  on  my 
front  door,  '  Back  in  an  hour.'  It  saves 
trouble,  and  gives  an  air  of  business  to  the 
shop." 

flusiness  done. — In  Committee  of  Supply. 
REDMOND  Freres,  finding  trade  dull,  run 
out  bold  advertisement.  Get  themselves 
suspended.  A  poor  plot,  lacking  finish  in 
execution.  House  laughed,  and  as  soon  as 
Redmondites  had  been  cleared  off  pre- 
mises, went  to  work ;  did  fair  night's 
business  with  votes. 


The  "Way  we  Live  now. 

Captain  Spooner  (to  Miss  DASHAWAY,  at 
Epsom).  Shall  we  have  a  bet  in  long ' '  fives"  ? 

Miss  DasJtaway  (a  "  Heads- I-win-tails- 
you-lose"  damsel).  No;  in  short  "  fivers," 
if  you  please. 

THE  MISSION  TO  MENELIK. — The  Abys- 
sinian Emperor  received  Mr.  ROOD  and 
party  right  royally.  Of  course  one  of  the 
Eastern  ceremonies  is  "  kissing  the  Rodd." 


T.  R.  ADELPHI,  U.S.A.,  STRAND. 

Secret  Service,  at  the  Adelphi,  is  a  melo- 
drama that  ought  to  have  come  to  stop,  or 
rather  to  run.  But  unless  some  arrange- 
ment is  arrived  at,  this  capital  specimen  of 
American  authorship  and  acting  is  to  leave 
us  before  it  has  attained  the  zenith  of  its 
success  in  this  year  of  Jubilee  1  It  is  in 
four  acts,  but  so  constructed  that  a  visi- 
tor coming  in  late,  say,  after  the  first  halt 
was  over,  would  bp  quite  satisfied  with  the 
second  half.  A  character  who,  whether  in 
military  or  civil  capacity,  is  generally  con- 
sidered as  an  unprincipled  scoundrel,  i.e., 
a  spy,  is  here  made  the  hero  of  the  drama, 
worthy  of  the  love  of  the  chillingly  vir- 
tuous heroine.  His  one  good  act  is  to 
yield  to  the  request  of  this  young  lady, 
who  implores  him  for  her  sake,  and  be- 
cause she  has  done  him  the  simple  service 
of  saving  his  life,  to  refrain  from  wiring 
false  intelligence  to  Head  quarters.  In  a 
moment  of  virtuous  weakness  he  consents. 
The  misleading  information  is  not  sent. 
No  one  is  hurt,  and  after  very  nearly  ex- 
piating the  intended  crime  by  forfeiting 
his  life,  he  is  at  tha  last  moment  let  off, 
though  sentenced,  by  a  remarkably  hearty 
old  general  with  a  stronger  American  ac- 
cent than,  any  other  actor  in  the  piece,  to 
remain  a  close  prisoner  until  the  war  is 
over. 

It  is  all  most  exciting  from  first  to  last, 
and  the  light  compdy  relief  is  admirably 
given  by  Miss  ODETTE  TYLER,  as  Caroline 
Mitford,  and  Mr.  HENRY  WOODRUFF,  as 
Wilfred  Varney,  a  surname  that  recalls 
SCOTT  and  Kenilioorth.  The  two  negro 
house-servants,  played  by  Miss  ALICE 
LEIOH  and  Mr.  H.  D.  JAMES,  give  real 


colour  to  the  piece.  The  villain,  Mr. 
CAMPBELL  GOLLAN,  would  be  even  more  vil- 
lainous than  he  is,  had  he  not  elected  to 
make  up  after  PHIZ'S  well-known  figure  of 
Nicholas  Nickleby,  with  the  addition  of 
moustachios ;  and,  on  consideration,  in  the 
moustachios  lias  all  the  villainy  of  what 
would  otherwise  be  a  very  pleasant  and 
amiable  countenance.  It  is  Nicholas 
Nicldeby  with  the  moustache  of  Lord 
Feruopht,  in  the  ss>me  novel ;  and  it  is  a 
Nicholas  who  would,  at  very  first  sight, 
have  won  the  heart  of  that  thorough-going 
old  theatrical  manager,  Mr.  Vincent 
Crummies.  In  case  the  play  should  not 
return,  or  the  thread  of  its  present  exist- 
ence be  snicked  by  the  advent  of  SARAH 
BERNHARDT,  strongly  does  this  deponent 
advise  all  who  can  enjoy  such  a  flavour- 
some  dish  as  is  this  melodrama,  with 
American  spice,  to  see  it  ere  it  quits  the 
Adelphi. 

Birthday  Honours. 

DEAR  SIR, — I  was  glad  to  see  that  you 
remembered  the  birthday  of  our  bonny 
Princess  MAY.  I'm  not  much  of  a  poet 
myself,  but  I  say  ditto  in  the  following  lines 
to  the  Duke  of  YORK,  born  June  3,  1865. 

Here 's  three  cheers  for  the  Duke, 
May  he  never  fail  to  fluke 

His  anchor  aground  of  the  nation  ! 
And  may  ev'ry  gentle  gale 
To  his  ship  of  luck  give  sail, 

Wherever  and  whatever  be  his  station ! 

Yours  obediently, 
Gosport,  June  2.        ROBERT  RATLINE. 


THE    BEST    LUBRICANT    FOR    CYCLES. — 
Castor  oil. 


JUNK  12,  1897.] 


I'lM  ||.    ou   TIIK    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


277 


DOUBTFUL. 


Dick.    "EVA.,    WHY  DO  THEY   ALWAYS   HAVE   GRtKX    PRA&  WITH    DtTCKf" 
Eva  (who  is  absorbed  in  Hi,    tliinl  rolume   of  "One  Heart,  One  Pant").    "OH — I — P'RAPS 
BHCAUSK  THE   DUCKS   LIKE   IT  1  " 


HOW  TO   SEE  THE  PEOCE8SION. 

(/•'//  One  who  has  Thauy/it  it 

OF  course,  you  must  be  out  early.     A 

tin-  traffic  will  l»-  stopped  soon  in  the 
morning,  you  nm>t  ri-c  bctim.-s.  I'crh.ips 
to  insuie  tins,  you  had  better  not  go  t( 
bed  overnight  ;  then  you  are  suit-  to  li. 
rcadv  by  dawn. 

S;iy  thai    vmi  want  to  get  to  a  window  it 

illy.      O!    course,    if   you    insist     \'" 

don't,  it   upsets  the  calculation.     \\.-ll,   i 


lire  south  of  Buckingham  1'al.u  '• 
your  iM-st  .way  is  by  the   Kinhankmciit  ,  ove 
Hammersmith    Bridge,    and   then   by   eas; 
stage*  to  Hyde  Park  Corner.     Once  there 
all    you   have   to    do    is   to    send   for 
balloon. 

It  you  wish  to  get  to  the  Strand,  am 
live  at  Brixton,  you  can  start  early,  ant 
find  your  way  to  Victoria  Station.  Now 
you  will  have  to  cross  the  line  of  route  at 
Westminster.  As  this  may  be  difficult 
you  should  make  friends  with  the  autlio 
rities,  and  mount  cither  the  Clock  Tower 
or  the  roof  of  Westminster  Abbey.  If  tlii? 
fails,  you  may  get  a  "Cannon  King"  Iron 
the  nearest  theatre  of  varieties,  and  ask 
In  in  to  shoot  you  from  his  gun  to  your 
place  of  destination. 

Hut  perhaps  the  best  way  of  all  to  see 
11  .....  hject  of  your  search  is  to  miss  the 
present  Jubilee,  and  wait  for  the  proces- 
sion in  the  next. 


A   VERT  DESIRABLE  Gttl  IN    THE   Ql'EEN's 

DIAMOND     JUBILEE    CROWN.  —  The     un- 
blemished Star  of  South  Africa. 


LITERARY  RECIPES. 

(From  Our  Own  "Authors'  Cookery- Book.") 

Tin-  Romance. — This  dish  is  very  popular  just  now.  Take  the 
language,  manners  and  costumes  of  the  last  three  centuries,  and 
mix  them  thoroughly.  Having  stirred  well,  drop  in  a  hero  of 
superhuman  strength,  a  fresh  young  titled  heroine,  and  the 
blackest  villain  obtainable,  and  when  this  mixture  begins  to 

Manner,   acid   six   murders,   two  suicide's,   and   three   elopi nts. 

Garnish   with  illustrations,  and   serve   up   in   a  volume   of   five 
hundred  pages. 

The  Society  Novel. — Select  half-a-dozen  well-known  persons, 
and  give  them  transparent  pseudonyms.  Add  a  liberal  portion 
of  .in  nee  iihfiiinifi;  compounded  of  malicious  gossip,  cynical 
aphorisms,  and  fashionable  slang,  and  the.  dish  will  then  be  com- 
plete. Some  authorities  are  in  favour  of  including  a  plot  in 
preparing  the  Society  Novel,  but  this  cannot  bo  recommended. 
Nothing  should  be  added  to  spoil  in  any  way  the  perfect  iml>o- 
cility  which  is  the  distinguishing  flavour  of  this  dish.  Another  of 
its  advantages  is  that  it  can  be  made  by  anyone  in  an  extremely 
short  time. 

Tin-  Ililieliir  Stnrti. — Take  one  part  of  GAROKIAU  and  fifty 
parts  of  water.  Add  a  lady  of  title,  a  comic  official  from  Scot- 
land Yard,  and  a  diamond  bracelet.  Strain  the  mixture  into 
twelve  e<|iial  parts  and  serve  up  monthly  in  a  magazine. 

Thf  "  Henlixtie"  C/Kinu'fir  Study. — First  boil  down  as  many 
disagreeable  stories  of  the  Divorce  Court  as  possible.  Into  this 
syrup  pour  a  solution  of  London  fog,  add  a  few  unpleasant 
diseases,  described  with  full  detail.  Mix  with  a  little  dipso- 
mania and  suicide,  then  slowly  boil  the  whole.  After  a  short 
time  a  thick  scum  will  rise  to  the  surface  ;  this  should  be  care- 
fully separated  off  and  published.  The  rest  can  be  thrown  away. 

The  Kdigiovu  .V..r.7. — Take  a  few  Biblical  characters,  and  re- 
write their  sayings  in  the  language  of  third-rate  journalism. 
Season  with  a  smattering  of  psychology,  a  quantity  of  irrever- 
ence, and  a  preface  declaring  that  every  critic  is  either  a  In.. I  m 
i  Una  re  probably  both.  Serve  up  with  puff-paste.  This  dish 
is  immensely  popular,  and  can  be  confidently  recommended. 

'I'll,  Improving  /;<»•/.•  This  dish  is  peculiarly  well  adapted  for 
•bildren.  To  a  handful  of  priggishness  add  another  of  imbecility. 
I'lie  product  should  be  gently  baked,  and  can  then  be  used  as 
vour  jurenilo  hero.  Add  an  unsympathetic  parent,  a  runaway 

VOL.  oxn 


cab,  a  hospital,  a  lingering  death,  and  plenty  of  maudlin  pathos. 
Serve  up  between  bright  boards  at  Christmas. 

The  Superior  Magazine,  Article. — For  this  purpose  little  more 
is  necessary  than  a  wholesale  ignorance  of  politics,  together  with 
a  large  share  of  impudence.  Sign  only  with  a  single  letter  of 
the  alphabet.  Throw  in  many  suggestions  of  your  close  famili- 
arity with  the  POPE,  the  German  EMPEROR,  and  Lord  SALIS- 
BURY. Stir  these  ingredients  well,  and  serve  up  hot  as  long  as 
editors  and  the  public  will  allow  you. 

THE  OLD  LEAD  OF  THE  COURT  DANCE. 

( To  the  Editor  of  Punch. ) 

Sin, — As  the  representative  of  the  recognised  organ  of  the  pro- 
fession, 1  beg  to  address  you.  On  the  9th  of  July  next  a  Sub- 
scription Ball  is  to  be  held  at  the  .Middle  Temple.  Very  properly, 
tickets  are  only  to  be  issued  to  the  members  of  that  hon.  society 
or  their  nominees,  and  the  list  of  applications  is  to  be  closed 
when  five  hundred  vouchers  have  been  distributed.  Here  come, 
my  grievance.  In  the  circular  announcing  the  function  the 
following  (what  I  venture  to  call)  fatal  passage  occurs:  "In  tin- 
event  of  more  tickets  being  applied  for  than  five  hundred,  the 
allotment  ii-ill  I*-  untile  in  onler  of  .-v-nioriti/  of  xtanilitiij  of  the 
applitaiit."  The  italics  are  mine.  But  fancy!  The  ball,  under 
such  circumstances,  is  stiro  to  be  crowded  with  elderly  "  silks  "  and 
the  more  aged  of  our  judges.  Surely  there  will  be  something 
incongruous  in  Mr.  Justice  STARELBIGH  dancing  "  The  Washing- 
ton I'oft,"  while  the  leaders  in  his  Lordship's  Court  (all  of  them 
well  over  sixty)  revel  in  the  vulgar  vagaries  of  "Kitcln-n  Lancers  "? 
And  I  tremble  to  think  of  the  Law  Officers  of  the  Crown  throw- 
ing their  hearts  (and  wigs)  into  "  Tlte  Barn  Dance."  No  doubt, 
tafore  the  close  of  the  evening,  a  "  Lords  Justin-*  ,,f  .l;i;*,i( 
Qutitlrille  "  will  be  organised,  with  .1  "/.or,/  II  i,/li  Clmnnllnr  Cotil- 
lon "  to  follow.  But  the-  climax  of  the  sartorial  exercises  will  be 
reached  when  the  Lord  Chief  Justice  and  the  Ma-ter  of  the 
Rolls  start  "  Th'  -Hi  in  It  Sir  /,'..,/,  r, /.'',„.,,'.  i/."  Hut  it  is  sad  to  jest 
with  an  aching  heart.  If  all  our  leaders  are  to  oust  us,  what 
nre  we  to  do  of  the  junior  Bar!-1  It  is  bad  enough  to  lose  our 
>riefs,  but  give  us,  oh,  give  us  our  dances.  Yours  faithfully, 

(Sii/tn',1)  AN  Our-AT-XicHT  TEMPLAR. 

Pum/i-handle  Court, 
c/o  A.  Briffless,  Jun.,  Esq.     Jvnr,  1897. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


(JUNE  12,  1897. 


.<_—  v . .  .  -< ,-» _» 


H.M.S.    "AFRIKANDER." 

[The  Cape  House  of  Assembly  unanimously  adopted  the  motion  in  favour  of  the  Colony  contributing  towards  the  Imperial  Navy.] 


NK  12,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


279 


r\v  11. 

Wm«u    MBtl 

I 

'  IIAIM 


RETRENCHMENT. 

./itti».    "DON'T   MEET  YOU   'F.RE  80  OFTEN   AS   WE  USED  TO,    BlNKB,    EH?" 

Jiinles.  "WELL— NO.     IT  DON'T  HUN  TO  A  HOPERA-BOX  THIS  SEASOK,  BB 

I.KK  1  " 


JtTBII.KE  ! 


BECAUSE,    YOU  8KB,    WE  'VE  TOOK   A   WINDOW   FOB  THIS   *ER1 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

Tli,'  Kniijht't  Tale  (BLACKWOOD),  by  Mrs.  (or  Miss?)  EMII.Y 
I  HI u I'M,  is  a  masterpiece  of  incoherency.  No  doubt,  when  she 
sat  down  to  write,  the  lady  hud  conception  of  a  plot,  ideas 
of  living  character.  My  Baronite,  painfully  groping  through 
the  hook,  discovers  occasional  proof  of  their  existence.  There  is 
a  melodramatically  wicked  father,  an  incomprehensible  son,  a 
beautiful  girl  who  loves  a  man  and,  to  begin  with,  leaves  him. 
Also,  among  other  names  occurring,  are  those  of  Mr.  and  M  i-x. 
Thornton,  two  exceedingly  commonplace  persons,  to  whom  the 
dizned  mind  turns  with  gratitude.  The  scene  is  chiefly  laid  in 
Pans.  An  attempt  is  made  to  flash  upon  the  pages  pictures  of  the 
outbreak  of  the  Commune.  This  is  a  partial  success,  since  it 
involves  deafening  noise  and  blinding  smoke.  In  the  environ- 
ment diameters  grow  more  than  ever  indistinct,  and  the  last 
state  of  the  hapless  reader  is  worse  than  the  first. 

.1  .s'/iiiiV  I. if,-  i >/'  Thniiiiix  l)<n-ix,  contributed  to  KisiiEK  UNWIN'S 
new  Irish  Library,  proves  afresh  how  history  repeats  itself. 

Heading  Sir  CiiAiii.Ks  DIKKV'S  accounts  of  O'CoNNELl,'n  proi 1- 

ings  during  the  last  two  years  of  his  life,  above  all  his  references 
to  the  Liberator's  son  JOHN — "this  feeble,  barren  young  man  " — 
my  Baronite  recalls  Committee  Room  15,  and  all  "that  lias  since 
happened  among  United  Irishmen.  It  is  true  that  Mr.  PAR- 
NKLL'S  contemporaries  and  colleagues  stop  short  of  accusing 
their  leader  of  treacherous  collusion  with  the  Government  at  a 
time  when  he  was  openly  professing  to  serve  the  Irish  cause. 
Sir  CHARLES  DUFFY,  writing  of  O'C-ONNKLL  in  1844-.").  lias 
no  such  scruple.  For  the  rest,  1895  and  1S15  are  linked 
in  Irish  annals  by  the  coincidence  of  a  state  of  things 
where  Irishmen  hale  each  other  for  the  love  of  Ireland. 
Sir  CIIAHI.KS,  who  lived  and  worked  through  the  latter  epoch, 
gives  vivid  glimpses  of  the  men  and  the  times.  His  hero, 
THOMAS  DAVIS,  brightens  his  pages  with  the  lustre  of  a  pure 
patriot  and  a  man  of  genius.  Incidentally  we  net  a  peep  at 
Father  MATIIKW.  "If  you  knew  Mr.  MATIIKW,"  DAVIS  write.-,  to 
WAI.TKR  SAVAGE  LANUOR,  "  you  would  relish  his  simple  and 


downright  manners.  He  is  joyous,  friendly,  and  quite  unas- 
suming."  We  of  this  generation  did  not  know  Father  MATHEW. 
But  we  have  the  happiness  of  haying  among  us  one  of  his  blood. 
It  anyone  desired  to  describe  in  two  sentences  Mr.  Justice 
MATIIKW,  he  could  not  improve  upon  DAVIS'S  characterisation  of 
his  famous  kinsman.  THE  BARON  DK  B.-W. 


IN  A  CONSERVATORY. 

A  coui'LE  sat  out  on  a  snug  settee, 
A  waltz  in  the  distance  droned, 

"  Mest  ball  I  ever  was  at,"  said  he- 
She  "  allowed  it  was  real  high-toned." 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  want  to  ask  you,  NAN  ?  " 
And  a  laughing  answer  came, 

"  I  don't  pan  out  on  riddles,  young  man, 
You  "d  best  peg  out  your  claim." 

Then  he  made  her  an  offer  in  terms  express 
Of  his  heart  and  hand  and  patrimony. 

"It's  a  deal,"  she  said,  "Next  fall,  I  guess, 
We  'II  meander  into  matrimony." 

LATEST  NEWS  FROM  THK  KIVKK. — The  appearance  of  the  Maria 
'I/III/,  the  once  famous  City  barge,  now  lying  off  Isleworth  Eyot, 
and  labelled   "For  Sale,"  does  not  suggest   any  sailing  power. 
In  fact,  ^llllill  does  not  look  at  all  sale-ubrious,  but,  neverthe- 
less, is  enjoying  the  oxiVrs  rum  <li<juitut<-. 

That  Committee  ! 

HONEST  inquiry  abandons  hope, 

'Midst   a  maze  of  fudge  and  a  fog  of  fables. 

Our  "  makers  of  empire  "  want  "  plenty  of  rope," 
But  they  rather  shirk  the  "  cables." 

INTERESTING  BOTANICAL  STUDY.— The  "Flora"  of  South  Africa. 


280 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JuxK  12,  1897. 


KIND     FRIEIH 
HELP       I 

A    DESERVING  ff, 

TO    SHOW  THEI 

LOYALT 

BY     ENAftLlNQ     THE 

SECURt 
CONSPICUOUS  AHf 

EX  PENS/ VE    SEffJ'l 
-,  o  -rue  »oitcfsavJH 

TOR   T>ifc 

ANO  ro 


NEW    &  SUITABlL' 
COSTUMES 

/ILL     CONTRIBUTIONS' 
"' 


THIS  IS   WHAT  OUR  FRIEND  PENNYFATHER  HAS   BEEN   DRIVEN   TO 
BY  THE   IMPORTUNITIES  OF   HIS   WlFE  AND   DAUGHTERS  ! 


REST    AND    REFRESHMENT. 

A  STUDY  AT  A  KOADSIDE  HOTEL. 

SCENE— T/te  Coffee-room  at  "  The  Wheel  of  Fortune"  Hotel,  about  fifteen 
miles  from  Hyde  Park  Corner.  TIME — 1.30  P.M.  Tourists  of 
various  kinds  discovered  lunching  at  main  and  side  tables. 

A  Lady  Cyclist  (fastidiously,  to  her  husband,  as  they  enter). 
It's  perfectly  stifling  in  here.  And  a  fire  tool  On  a  day  like 
this !  Fancy ! 

Her  Husband.  I  was  just  thinking  the  fire  looked  rather  jolly. 
Er — you  haven't  overtired  yourself,  dear;1 

^His  Wife  (very  properly  bristling  at  such  an  insinuation). 
Why,  GEOBGE  ?  Are  you  feeling  as  if  you  'd  done  too  much  ? 

George  (with  innocent  complacency).  Me?  Rather  not,  FANNY. 
Fresh  as  when  I  started! 

Fanny.  Then  why  on  earth  should  you  suppose  I  must  be 
tired?  (She  sinks  into  a  seat,  after  a  glance,  at  the  mirror.) 
You  men  are  such  conceited  things,  you  won't  believe  any  woman 
can  possibly  be  as  strong  as  you  are !  And  yet  I  rode  every  bit 
as  fast  as  you — now  didn't  I  ? 

George  (who  has  been  adapting  his  pace  to  hers).  Every  bit, 
dear.  We  did  that  last  five  miles  in  only  a  little  over  three 
quarters  of  an  hour,  which  isn't  so  bad. 

fanny.  I  should  call  it  very  good — against  such  a  hurricane 
as  there  is  to-day  ! 

George  (irlnar  truthfulneu  is  occasionally  t<m  much  for  his  tact). 
Oh,  come,  you  can't  call  a  bit  of  a  breeze  like  that  a  hurricane! 

Fanny.  You  haven't  to  bicycle  in  skirts.  The  tyranny  of  men 
compels  us  unfortunate  women  to  take  violent  exercise  in  utterly 
unsuitable  clothes,  and  then  you  turn  round  and  wonder ! 

George.  I  must  say  I  don't  think  women  look  their  best  in 
knickerbockers,  as  a  rule. 

Fanny.  All  your  narrow,  solfish  prejudice.  As  if  it  mattered 
how  they  look ! 

George.  Oh,  I  don't  say  there  aren't  cases  in  which  this 
"  rational  costume,"  as  they  call  it,  is  rather  becoming.  That 
young — er — lady  who  has  just  come  in,  fo'r  instance,  now  she 
looks — 

Fanny  (after  subjecting  the  nruromer  to  <i  n-il/u  >-i IKJ  glare). 
That  creature !  How  she  can  have  the  audacity  to  appear  in 


public  like  that,  I  don't —    •     Can't  you  .sr<  what  a  ridiculous  and 
unfeminine  object  she  has  made  of  herself  ? 

[GEORGE  thinks  it  politic  tn  express  his  entire  agreement. 

A  Cycling  Enthusiast  (a  recent  conrert — to  his  Neighbour). 
Roads  in  capital  condition  to-day  ! 

Jl is  .\(iijhliour.  The  country  is  looking  delightful  indeed. 
Quite  a  treat  to  get  away  from  smoky  London! 

The  C.  E.  Come  from  town,  have  you?  How  long  did  it 
take  you  to  get  clown  here,  now? 

His  A'.  Why,  let  me  see — (considering) — I  left —  Well,  a 
little  under  half  an  hour. 

The  C.  E.  (u'ith  increased  n'.s/wr/l.  Over  thirty  miles  an  hour! 
Why,  it  took  me What  are  you  geared  to?  Over  seventy,  eh  ? 

HM  .V.  (iiiilt/ly  hurt).  I'm  not  much  above  fifty. 

Tin'  C.  E.  Then  what  machine  do  you  ride? 

Jl  is  N.  (conscious  of  inferiority).  I  don't  ride  any  machine. 
I  came  down  by  train — just  for  a  stroll  in  the  country,  you  know. 

The  C.  E.  Ah,  I  was  thinking  you  hadn't  the  look  of  a  wheel- 
man. (He  loses  all  interest  in  him,  and  turns  to  Ai.s  Other 
Neighbour.)  Been  riding  far  to-day,  Sir? 

ait  Other  N.  (in  a  tone  stiff  with  self -importance).  Aw — no. 
Only  from  Hillford. 

The  C.  E.  (n-ith  approval).-  Just  a  nice  easy  run.  Wonderful 
how  popular  cycling's  become  within  the  last  two  years.  Why, 
not  long  ago,  you  and  I  would  have  turned  up  our  noses  at  any- 
one who  rode  a  bike,  and  yet,  what  a  delightful  exercise  it  is ! 

His  0.  N.  (from  immeasurable  lieights).  Cawu't  say  I  agree 
with  you. 

The  C.  E.  Then  I  expect  you're  a  beginner.  Haven't  got  a 
machine  of  your  own,  yet,  I  daresay  ? 

His  O.  N.  Cawn't  say  I  have.  Not  come  down  to  a  bike  yet. 
Aw — four  legs  are  good  enough  for  me. 

The  C.  E.  (nettled).  You're  not  meaning  to  make  yourself  out 
an  ass,  are  you  ?  It 's  a  bad  bird  that  blacks  his  own  boots  ! 

His  0.  N.  (with  crushing  dignity).  I — ar — meant  to  convey 
that — speaking  personally — 1  prefer  to  ride — aw — a  norse. 

The  C.  E.  An,  no  accounting  for  tastes,  is  there?  (To  li tin- 
self.)  The  side  these  riding  fellows  put  on! 

A  Veteran  Cyclist  (to  his  Companion,  a  Neophyte).  Feel  a  bit 
stiff,  eh,  old  man  ? 

The  Neophyte  (to  whom  a  cane  chair  is  torture).  Very  comfort- 
able, thanks.  Capital  cold  beef,  this! 

Tlie  Veteran.  You  don't  seem  to  be  getting  on  with  it.  Afraid 
you  're  rather  upset  by  that  last  spill  you  had. 

The  Neo.  (wishing  hig  friend  le.iuildn't  talk  so  l(jud).  Can't  think 
how  I  managed  it.  I  was  going  straight  enough  ! 

The  Vet.  Yes,  old  chap,  but  if  you  go  straight  when  you  ought 
to  turn  a  corner ! 

The  Neo.  The  confounded  thing  wouldn't  steer — handles  askew, 
or  something. 

The  Vet.  You  must  have  twisted  them  soon  after  we  started, 
running  into  that  hansom.  Jove!  I  thought  it  was  all  over 
with  you  that  time ! 

The  Neo.  You  took  it  pretty  coolly — going  on  and  never  look- 
ing back  to  see  whether  I  was  following ! 

The  Vet.  My  dear  fellow,  you  told  me  you  could  ride  all  right, 
so  naturally,  it  never  occurred  to  me — 

The.  Neo.  (sulkily).  Well,  I've  got  here,  anyhow,  and  that's 
tomething. 

The  Vet.  Something  ?  If  you  're  half  as  lucky  going  home  as 
you  've  been  coming  out,  it  will  be  the  nearest  thing  to  a  miracle 
I  ever •  Are  you  looking  for  the  wine  list  ? 

The  Neo.  No — the  railway  time-table. 

The  Equestrian  (to  a  New  Neighbour).  You  're  not  one  of  this 
cyclist  lot,  are  you  ? 

His  New  N.  Not  I.  No  opinion  of  'em.  "Cads  on  Castors," 
as  somebody  called  'em. 

The  Eq.  Doosid  good  name  for  'em  too.  Cawn't  git  away  from 
the  beggahs. 

His  New  N.  They  're  a  noosance.  Ought  to  be  put  down,  1 
say.  Behaving  as  if  the  whole  road  belonged  to  'em! 

The  Eq.  They  do.  What  with  their  bells  and  fog-'orns,  my 
'orse  was  as  near  bolting  with  mo  as  makes  no  difference.  Took 
me  all  I  knoo  to  'old  'im.  Fact  is,  old  England" ain't  the  place 
;my  longer  for  quiet  riding-men  like  ourselves,  who  like  a  tittup 
along  the  'igh  road. 

//  is  .Yric  N.  Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,!  Ve  given  up  keeping 
horses — now. 

The  Eq.  (in  a  burst  of  confidence).  Well,  the  'orse  I'm  ridin' 
ain't  my  own.  It 's  like  this — I  Ve  a  partickler  friend  who  keeps 
a  livery  stables,  d'ye  see,  and  now  and  then,  when  I  Ve  a  day 
orf,  he  lets  me  'ire  a  gee  orf  him  very  reasonable.  He  knows  I  '11 
bring  him  back  none  the  worse,  and  there  's  somethink  exhilara- 
ting, to  my  mind,  in  feeling  a  good  'orso  under  yer — if  it 's  on'y 

nack. 


JUNK  12,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


//      \i  a-  \ .   I  ii-ll  you  this  much,  if  you  once  took  to  a  niotor- 

r;ir,  you'd  never  look  :it   a  horse  again. 

Tin-  K<I.  (impreutd).  \\li.v,  liave  gnu  not  one  of  these  motor- 
CUB.  t  ll>'ll  '? 

Ili.-i  .\<ir  .\  .  (ii-illi  .M//«  liui  ilij).  I  came  down  Inn  oil  olii1,  Sir. 
Fastest  thing  on  I  he  mail.  \\li.v,  I  went  spinning  along  at  the 
rale  nl  \\cll,  you  wouldn't  lielieve  me  it  I  told  you  !  Talk 

aliollt    exllllal..    :  a   tool   to  it  ! 

'I'll'  I'.q.  (inili  nn  i  I/I'll  ill  W/'-i/.«i'i  (on  I.  Aw  tli.it  's  ynui 
opinion.  'Fro,  waitah,  have  you  told  'em  to  bring  my  aiiima: 
loiind  ''  I  'in  rat  hali  in  a  imrry. 

ll'uitir.   The  ostler  iriis   told,  Sir.      Hut    I  was  to  say  as  p'raps 
you   wouldn't    mind   mounting  ill  the  yard.      There's  one  o'  th 
motor-cars  at   the  front,  Sir,  and  they  can't  i/et    the  'or 
He  may  no  i|ilieter  with  you   in  the  saddle. 

Tin  /','</.  lie  aw-  may.  (ll'itli  a  nilln  i  iiullnl  iu,!ili  ni'.ix,  tn 
tin-  iiinlnf-inr  num.)  1'erhaps  I  M  hetter  let  I/.MI  start  lirst. 

Tin-  .\liiliii--iiii-  M .  l!ight  !  Bless  you,  I  shall  be  about  half- 
way homo  before  you  can  put  your  foot  in  the  stirrup. 

IN  THK  BAU. 

.1  <'i/i!i.-,l  (In  Ha  Landlady).  But  I  thought  you  took  off  some- 
thing tor  members  of  the  C.T.C.  P 

't'ln'  I.iiinlliiilii  ticjf/i  beaming  candour).  Well,  we  did,  Sir,  but 
we  found  we  had  to  put  something  on  before  we  could  take  any- 
thing off,  so  wo  gave  it  up. 

AT  THE  FRONT  KMI:AM  K. 
Tin-  Oirin-r  uf  tin  MII/III-I-III-  (mi  tin-  drii-imj-.waD.  Bless  you, 
no,  simplest  tiling  in  the  world!  You  see,  I  move  this  hut  ton 
along  the  groove — that  regulates  the  ;»,»•.•/  then  press  the 
hut  ton— BO — and  I'm  olf.  .  .  No,  it's  all  riijht— sometimes  it 
doesn't  start  quite —  1  '11  just  get  down  and  see  if  the  accumu- 
lator   (Hi-  ili'sci-iulx.)  111!  stop  it ,  somebody  .  .  .  Jump  mi 

to  it,  then  !  (Jet  out  of  the  way,  you  idiots!  .  .  .  Well,  it  won't 
come  to  any  harm  on  the  green  .  .  .  Oh,  1  '11  pay  for  the  beastly 
geese!  .  .  .  Kh  ?  a  jjnm/,  is  there?  .  .  .  \\hat  of  it?  It  isn't 
very  likely  to —  Dash  it  all,  it  IMS!  Don't  stand  grinning 
there  come  and  seo  if  there 's  any  way  of  getting  the  confounded 
thing  out,  can't  you  ! 

IN  THE  STABLE  YAKD. 

Cron-d  uf  I'nsijiiipalhi  Hi-  < ' yet i .-il x  (imhliiiKj  the  Equcxtrian't 
fulili'  r/finix  In  1111111111).  Steady  does  it,  Sir  .  .  .  Put  your  let', 
foot  on  the  stop  behind  and  'op !  .  .  .  Go  on,  the  'orse  ain't  yul 
no  step!  .  .  .  Lend  'im  a  ladder!  .  .  .  Now  he's  up!  .  .  .  . 
Don't  clutch  the  'andlebars,  guv'nor!  Backpedal  a  bit.  You 
ought  to  'ave  a  brake  fitted  to  that  'orse,  you  ought  .  .  .  Good- 
live,  Sir.  Don't  put  your  feet  up  going  down  hill! 

Tin-  K<I.  (/iinii./lililii,  (ix  hix  ininuit  sidles  crali- fashion  u'itli  him 
mil  uf  Ilic  gates).  If  you  fellers  think  I  ain't  accustomed  to  a 

Horse 

I  (  '//,  l!*l.  You  're  accustomed  to  the  'orse  all  right,  old  man- 
it's  the  'orse  ain't  accustomed  to  y/m  .' 

Tin-  Oxlli-i-  (n-itli  liilli'i-in-.ix).  Ah,  you  may  jolly  'im,  gen'lm'n, 
but  1  tell  you  it's  gettin"  to  be  a.  treat,  to  me  to  see  anyiini-  on 
a  'orse — even  the  likes  of  'im  ! 


OPERATIC  NOTES. 

Mini  31. — Sudden  Indisposition  of  Mons.  JEAN  DE 

!!KS/.KK,  so  'fuii/iliiiinu'r  for  Die.  Mi-ixti-i-ximji-r.  I'oor  "  Mons.,' 
not  a  mountain,  but  "a  little  'ill."  Audience  gradually  put 
into  excellent  temper  by  M.  VAN  DYCK  as  the  much-tried 
7'iHMi/ii'ii/M  i-,  and  by  FMMA  FAMES  a.s  ' l.isl.itli.  "Very  warm  mid- 
summer night,  and  Mile.  I'AIAIIY  as  JYnu.s  inueh  envied.  NOTE, 
:e  \\' ul  fin  in,  notable;  Mile.  BAUEKMKitiTp.it,  as  a  "  Berger,'' 
blooming.  Conductor  MAM  INK.I.I.I  meritorious 

Tuisiliii/.       lulu     going     strong,    i.e.,    Miss     SUSAN     STIHI.M: 
Kncore    M.    Norfe   et    Mile.    HAUEUMKISI-KU.     Mr.    ( 'lassical-and- 
\l.\  tholo'.'.ical -l)ictionary-PniM;i.K  (this  evidently  ought  to  be  tin 
name,  "writ  large,"  of  Mr.  LKMI-HIKRK  I'KINGI.K)  good  as  11  II* 
VEKIU'S  motto,  when  Iiesitating  as  to  writing  the  now  celehi 
inarch,  and   get    as   far  away   a.s   possible   from  other   celebrated 
marches,  must  have  been,  "  When  in  doubt,  play  trumps." 

'  ./i,,«<    •!.  — WAUXKII'S    O)ieni,    Tristtin    inul    Ixnlilr,   an- 

nounced, with  two  DE  KBSZKEH  and  MAKIK  HHKMA  in  it.  I'nfor- 
tunately,  either  one,  or  both,  of  the  Risky  HESZKKS  could  not 
sing,  so  Opera  not  'I'rixtnn  uml  Ixnlili-,  but  Trixt'mi  (myself) 
and  /  xulil  ii<inin  .'  \\ 'e  have  dear  old  Tniriatu,  l.u  r'n-illi'  ilnnn 
a  a  r  i-iiini  linx  fiiin'r.1.  Signor  ANCONA  excellent  as  (,',/ /(l, /;,/.- 
Su. H:\AI  good  as  milksop  Mfrnln  nun:  and  Mine.  SAVII.I.E  a 
ciuisummate  eonsiimpt  ive  Vin/i-lln.  F.veryone  int<-rested  in 
reoent  South  African  ln(|iiiry  delightod  to  st-e  Mint-.  VAN 
C'ANTKHEN  looking  so  well  as  "  Flora." 


WHY  IIUY  EXCKNHIVK  DIAMONDS  WHEN  YOU  CAN  OUT  A  MUCH 

MOKE  hRlLLlAMT  KKKKCT  WITH    EUXTUICITV  ! 


A  PARALLEL. 


["  Serricrg  as  usunl." 


Notice  posted  on  the  Jubilee  Stand)  in  St.  Clement 
Dane*  churchyard.] 

WHAT  time  the  enterprising  tradesman  tricks 

His  premises  out,  from  bottom  floor  to  top, 
With  ladders,  workmen,  scaffold-poles  and  bricks, 

t'ntil  the  place  seems  hardly  like  a  shop  ; 
Then,  just  to  show  his  house,  and  not  his  trade, 
^  Is  undergoing  sundry  variations, 
You  shall  observe  this  legend  there  displayed — 

"  Business  as  usual  during  alterations." 
So  now  a  church  would  chiefly  we  HI  to  be 

A  site  whereon  the  sight-seer  may  )M>rch  ; 
St.  Clement  Danes  is  for  the  Jubilee 

So  girt  with  stands  it  hardly  seems  a  church. 
Still,  though  the  crowds  who  soon  those  stands  will  fill, 

Exceed  a  doaen  Sunday  congregations, 
There  is  a  church  there — read  the  modest  bill 

•'  Business  as  usual  during  jubilations  !  " 

Monkeys  on  the  Stick-fast. 

THE  English  Jacobites  propose  to  "  demonstrate  "  at  the  pre- 
sence of  Prince  KUPERT  of  Bavaria  (who,  according  to  tneir 
theory,  ought  to  be  Prince  of  WALES)  in  the  Diamond  Jubilee 
Procession.  Mr.  Punch  sincerely  hopes  that  the  Prince  will  be 

heartily  cheered,  and  understand  that,  ill  view  of  no  change  of 
Heir  being  needed  by  the  British  Constitution,  the  Jacko-bark 
is  as  harmless  as  the  Jacko-bite. 


THE  .Irmi.EE  CARPENTER'S  CONUNDRUM.  —  In  what  year  of 
Roman  History  might  the  present  aspect  of  the  Jubilee  route 
incline  us  to  believe  we  were  living? — Consule  Plank-o. 

(Siijiutl)  ANTONY  A  AVoon. 


282 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARTVARI. 


[JUNK  12,  1897. 


Brown.  "  DID  you  EVEK  TUY  THAT  TAILOR  I  RECOMMENDED  TO  YOU— SNIP  &  Co.  I" 

Green.  "YES.    Toe  EXPENSIVE.    GOT  TWO  SUITS  FROM  HIM— ONE  DRESS  SUIT,  ONE  LAW  SUIT!" 


THE  WALRUS  AND  THE  CARPENTER. 

JUBILEE  VERSION. 
( With  Apologies  tu  Lewis  Carroll.) 

The  Walriu      .  A  Jubilee  Jack  Tar. 
The  Carpenter  .  A  Jubilee  Stand-builder. 

'TWAS  in  the  district  called  B.C., 
Men  were,  with  all  their  might, 

Doing  their  level  best  to  make 
The  City  gay  and  bright 

In  honour  of  the  Jubilee ; 
It  was  to  be  a  sight ! 

The  Walrus  and  the  Carpenter 

Were  somewhere  near  the  Strand  ; 

The  latter  cried,  "  Confound  this  tree  ! 
Its  branches  spoil  my  Stand ! 

If  all  these  boughs  were  chopped  away," 
He  said,  "  it  would  be  grand !  " 

"  If  seven  woodmen  were  to  chop 
(Like  WEO)  for  half  a  year, 

Do  you  suppose,"  the  Walrus  said, 
"  London  of  trees  they  'd  clear  ?  " 

"I  doubt  it,"  growled  the  Carpenter. 
"  Nome  fool  would  interfere  ! 

"  The  papers  always  raise  a  fuss 

When  anything  is  done 
liy  which  a  man  may  make  a  bit. 

However,  I,  for  one, 
Am  tloinij  well  on  this  here  job. 

The-*-  Jnhilees  tin-  fun!" 


The  Carpenter  his  hammer  took, 

And  smote  like  anything. 
He  said,   "  God   save  the   QUEEN  !  " — of 
course — 

"  So  all  the  poets  sing  : 
But  during  this  here  Jubilee  time 

The  Carpenter  is  king  !  " 

The  Walrus  stood  with  both  his  hands 

Plunged  in  his  pockets,  like 
One  waiting  for  the  pub  to  ope, 

Or  workman  out  on  strike. 
He  winked  his  dexter  eye,  and  said, 

"  Shipmate,  you  're  wide  awyke  ! 

"  This  job,  at  pne-and-eight  per  hour, 

I  grant  you  is  good  biz. 
None  o'  your  common  four-arf  now ; 

No,  it  will  run  to  fizz ! 
Ain't  it  like  that  ?  "    The  Carpenter 

Replied,  "Old  salt,  it  is!" 

The  Walrus  gave  his  quid  a  turn, 
And  gave  his  slacks  a  hoist. 

"  Avast !  "  he   cried.      "  When  you   have 

done 
With  bulk,  and  beam,  and  joist, 

I  feel,  d'ye  know,  as  I  could  do 
A  drop  o'  somethin'  moist ! " 

"  D'ye  recollect  our  oyster  feed  ?  " 

The  Carpenter  replied. 
The  Walrus  said,  "  I  do,  indeed  ! 

I  think  on  it  with  pride. 
Hut  thoughts  of  yesterday's  good  grub 

Won't  fill  to-day's  inside." 


" I'm  on  this  Jubilee  job,  you  're  not," 

The  Carpenter  began. 
The    Walrus    winked   and   cried,    "Just 
wait ! 

To  crown  the  Jubilee  plan 
They  must  Review  the  Fleet,  and  then 

They  '11  want  the  Sailor  Man  !  " 

"  Old  salt,"  the  Carpenter  rejoined, 

"  You  're  very  right  indeed  1 
When  I  have  made  my  little  pile, 

I  hope  you  '11  get  your  meed. 
And  then,  O,  Walrus!  won't  we  have 

Another  oyster  feed !  " 


In  Anticipation  of  the  Naval  Review. 

Cuxtonu'T  (to  tiimth  Coast  yacht-owner).  I 
want  to  hire  a  launch  during  the  Naval 
Review  week. 

Yaclit-tnriii'i-.  Very  sorry,  Sir,  but  we 
haven't  a  launch  left.  But  we're  raising 
a  nice  schooner  wrecked  in  the  Channel 
yonder,  and  I  could  let  her  to  you  for 
£200,  if  you  'd  say  "  done  "  at  once. 

[liui  the   word   "done"  friyliti'iii'd  tin: 
customer. 


Two  Jubilees. 

THE  Jewish  Jubilee  spread  wide  content. 
Of  our  Victorian  one  was  thin  effect  meant : 
For  wealthy  landlords  an  excessive  rent, 
And     for    poor   tenants,    summary   eject- 
ment ? 


PITNOH.    OR   THK   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— JUNK  12.   1«97. 


THE  WALRUS  AND  THE   CARPENTER" 

(Jubilee   Verticn.) 

"/'M  ON  THIS  JUBILEE  JOB.    YOU'RE  NOT," 

THE   CAHPENTKtt   BE(JAN. 
THE   WALRUS   WINKED   AND  CRIED,   "JUST    WAI  I 

TO  CROWX   THK   JUBILEE   PLAN 
THEY  Ml'KT  REVIEW   THK   FLEET,  AND  Til  EX 

THEY  'LL  WANT  THE  SAILOR  MAN  !  " 


JUNE  12,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


28f> 


"  AT  SEVENTEEN  YEAHS  OF  AOE  I  INQUIRED 
WHICH  is  UK  l  AT  TWENTY,  WHO  is  HE  ; 
AT  TWENTY-FIVE,  WHAT  HAS  HE  ?  AND 
NOW,  WHERE  is  HE  1 " 


TALK  AT  THE  TOURNAMENT. 

(Echoes  from  Islington.) 

A  LITTLE  difficult  to  get  to  one's  seat 
when  one  IKVS  to  run.  the  gauntlet  of  the 
11. H. A.  preparing  for  "a  musical  ride"  in 
the  corridor. 

Good  thing  that  horses  are  trained  not 
to  crush  civilians — at  least,  I  hope  so. 

Nico  idea  decorating  Hoyal  Box  with 
flower-pots  and  muslin. 

Pleased  to  see  the  warrior,  DANN,  per- 
forming his  customary  duties  with  a  book 
and  a  small  Union  Jack — only  looking,  in 
spite,  of  the  passing  years,  a  good  deal 
younger. 

Capital  notion  to  confine  the  "dead- 
heads "  to  children  from  soldiers'  schools 
and  the  vetenns  from  Chelsea  Hospital. 

Improvement  to  have  no  background 
for  ''  the  combined  display,"  as  the  painted 
canvas  representing  an  Afghan  fort  not 
only  took  up  space,  but  looked  ridiculous. 

Another  alteration  to  b<?  commended  in 
"  Balaclava  melee" — "horseplay  on  horse- 
back "  destructive  to  discipline. 

Much  harder  work  than  usual,  and  less 
of  the  "  show  "  element. 

Suppose  that  "the  pageant,"  called  on 
the  present  occasion  "  Our  Army,  1704- — 
1882,"  is  a  concession  to  popular  senti- 
ment . 

Soldiers  in  wigs  not  nearly  so  enthu- 
siastically received  as  the  heroes  of  Tel-el- 
Kebir. 

Public  seem  to  prefer  the  present  day  to 
the  period  of  Marlborough. 

"Pageant"  pleasant,  but  scarcely  up  to 
the  standard  of  the  past ;  not  comparable, 
for  instance,  with  the  gathering  of  the 
Imperial  forces  of  last  year. 

Same  old  "  tug-of-war,"  same  old  "  lemon- 
cutting,"  same  old  "  sword  r.  sword 
mounted,"  same  old  everything. 

"  Throwing  the  Djerid  by  Zaptiehs  of 
the  Cyprus  military  police"  rather  a  feeble 
performance  ;  after  seeing  itj  one  comes 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  thieves  in  dis- 
tant Cyprus  must  have  rather  a  good  time 
of  it. 

"  Naval  display  by  detachment  from 
H.MS.  K.,;;  Hi  nt"  in  every  way  ad- 


mirable; so  useful  tor  sailors  to  lie  ahle 
to  dismantle  a  gun  in  three  or  four 
-,1'i-ti nd  ,  ainl  then  rest  on  the  piece-. 

No  doubt  tl»>  new  authorities  liave  made 
the  Tournament  a  deal  more  military, 
Imt  nut  more  amusing. 

Question  is1,  whether  the  martian  name 
will  prove  to  tie  ijuite  worth  the  ]H-euni.iry 
candle. 


MOK115UM1X 

["To    parody    a    famous    line    of    MATTHEW 
AuNOLli,  /til, A  may  IK-  Bilid  to  sff  hti-  atrudtly  unU 

to  see   it  vile M.    I!HI  XHTifciiK    (tin-   great 

French  critic)  lays  that  /olaimu  i«  not  a  good 
mriueuce,  and  is  dying  or  dead  in  the  land  ot  iU 
origin." — l)u\ly  Chronicle.] 

Is   the   realistic  novel,  which   is   wont  to 

grub  and  grovel, 
In   the   mud-bank    and  the   muck-heap, 

and  to  call  the  same  "  the  world," 
To  find  vileness  in  high  places,  and  crude 

horror  in  the  hovel, 
Is  it  really  dead  or  dying?     Long  the 

modern  muse  has  skirled 
Ma'tiad  strains  and  called  them  musicl     Is 

the  clamour  Corybantic 
Of  the  deafening  drum  and  cymbal,  and 

the  clash  of  sword  on  shield, 
To  give  place  to  sounds  less  horrid,  and  to 

songs  less  Phrygian-frantic, 
To  the  music  of  the  woodland  and  the 

fragrance  of  the  field  ? 
If  this  critic  is  a  prophet,  then  the  literary 

Tophot, 
The  Acheron  of  Art,  have  now  had  their 

dismal  day, 
Which  was  only  night  made  lurid.    Are  we 

out  of  it  and  off  it, 
The  artistic  Malebolge  which  was  never 

sweet  or  gay  ? 
Alast   our  little  Zolas,   with  their  sombre 

screeds  and  scrappy 
Are  still  playing  the  muckraker  and  the 

gatherer  of  Old  Clo'  I 
Tabooing  all  that  'a  healthy,  and  disdaining 

all  that 's  happy 
In   the    name    of    Realism.     Are    they 

dying  ?     Will  they  go  ? 
To  write  rubbish  about  rubbish  and  to  call 

it  realistic, 
To   analyse  the   sordid,   and   to  picture 

the  obscene, 
With  a  pencil  that  is  graphic  and  a  pen 

that  is  sophistic, 
Is    much   easier    than    mastery    of    the 

healthy  and  the  clean. 

Large  style  and  lucid  outlook  are  equip- 
ments of  the  mighty  : 
It  needs  health  to  breathe  the  aether  of 

the  mountain-tops  of  style. 
So  whilst  little  pens  are  cynical,  and  petty 

pencils  flighty, 

They  always  picture  Life  as  they  can  see 
it,  small  and  vile. 


AN  INTERIM  REPORT. 

( Under  consideration. ) 

WE  beg  to  report  that  we  have  made  an 
examination  of  matters  of  examination, 
and  that  the  examination  has  been  con- 
ducted as  an  examination. 

We  beg  to  say  that  we  have  discovered 
that  the  discoveries  to  be  discovered  are 
still  ripe  for  discovery. 

We  request  to  be  allowed  to  state  that 
the  statements  that  have  been  stated  have 
been  stated  as  statements. 

We  desire  to  record  the  fact  tha  the 
evidence  that  has  come  before  us  has  been 
received  as  evidence  of  the  existence  of 
evidence  that  might  be  received  as  evi- 


dence,  Were  that    e\ldc|icc   as   eviden 
mis-ible  as  evidence. 

\V"   wish  In  announce  thai,  the  witnesses 

we    have    examined    as    wit  nesses   have     Hit 

m  ssed  that  they  are  witnesses  that  have 
licen  examined  as  witnesses. 

We  submit  that  the  conclusion  at  which 
we  have  arrived  is  a  condu-ioii  lomided 
upon  a  conclu-ion  that  ionics  as  a  conclu- 
sion to  the  conclusion  at  which  WO  have 
.Hi  ucd  as  a  conclusion. 

We  vii^Lji-,1   that  the  condition  of  things 
into    which   we    have    examined   is    a  condi 
tion  that   is  st  ill  the  condition  ot  the  condi- 
tion  of  the    things    under  examination   in 
that  condition. 

We  advise  that  our  advice  should  be  ac- 
cepted as  advice  that  should  not  be  advi-ed 
unless  received  as  advice  that  yet  has  to 
he  advised  as  advice  that  can  properly  bo 
adopted  as  advice. 

We  propose  that  the  propositions  put 
before  us  as  proposals  should  remain  pro- 
posals unless  they  propose  to  be  proposals, 
when  it  will  be  necessary  to  propose  pro- 
posals that  may  become  proposals. 

We  announce  that  we  have  lear 1  that 

learning  cannot  be  learned  without  learn- 
ing that  learning  is  learning  that  has  yet 
to  be  learned. 

We  recommend  that  our  recommenda- 
tions shall  be  accepted  as  recommendations 
to  be  founded  upon  recommendations  not 
yet  recommended  as  recommendations. 

We  find  that  our  finding  is  still  to  be 
found  as  a  finding  when  the  finding  is 
found  as  a  finding. 

And  we  beg  to  report  that,  for  the  pre- 
sent, at  any  rate,  we  have  nothing  further 
to  report. 


OH,  THE  JUBILEE! — As  usual,  the  Penny 
Illustrated  Paper  is  equal  to  the  occasion. 
The  history  of  the  record  reign  appears  in 
its  pages  with  great  effect.  The  talented 
editor  depends  more  upon  illustration  than 
letter-press.  Well,  and  why  not  P  There 
is  but  one  point  to  which  we  call  atten- 
tion. Surely  Mr.  LATEY  must  find,  as  a 
bright  and  clever  journalist,  his  name 
rather  a  misnomer.  Evidently  his  new 
title  should  be  Lord  ANYTHINQBUTLATEY. 


A  DEAL  TO  BKAB. — The  stands  for  the 
Diamond  Jubilee. 


WHICH  THE  GREATER  TORTURE 

THK  1S:{"  SIOCK  OR  TUB  IS'.t"  COLLAR! 


286 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JCNE  12,  1897. 


ESSENCE    OF   PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  FROM  THB  DIABY  OF  Tony,  M.P. 

House  of  Commons,  Monday,  May  31. — 
BLAMELESS  BABTLBY,  brought  up  amongst 
wholesome  economies  of  penny-bank, 
shrinks  with  horror  from  demand  of  a. 
guinea  for  luncheon  on  Jubilee  Day.  Why, 
in  New  York  there  are  places  where  you 
get.  a  free  lunch !  'Tis  true  its  chief  con- 
stituent is  clam.  Moreover  than  which, 
the  guest  treats  himself  to  a  drink.  But 
the  lunch  is  free — free  as  the  country. 
Why  should  the  mother  of  free  Parlia- 
ments be  less  liberal  than  her  lusty  child  t 
Surely  England  is  rich  enough  to  supply 
to  its  hardworking  legislators  free  lunch  of 
clam  in  the  various  delectable  forms  pos- 
sible to  clever  cooks.  On  such  occasion, 
the  sixtieth  anniversary  of  a  glorious  reign, 
a  modest  drink  might  be  thrown  in. 


beer  running  from  a  fountain  in  the  centre 
of  the  hall.  I  don't  disguise  the  proba- 
bility that  we'll  make  a  handsome  profit 
out  of  it." 

Failing  this,  B.  B.,  whose  resources  are 
illimitable,  suggests  that  Members  should 
bring  down  their  own  luncheon,  and  cat 
it  from  the  grand  stand,  eoram  publieo.  In 
his  mind's  eye  SAHK  sees  BLAMELESS  with 
a  chunk  of  cold  bacon  in  one  fist,  a  knife 
in  the  other,  a  loaf  of  bread  under  his  arm, 
and  a  foaming  flagon  between  his  knees, 
what  time  HER  MAJESTY  rides  past  in 
Jubilee  State. 

Business  done. — In  Committee  on  Em- 
ployers' Liability  Bill. 

Tuesday. — Kitchen  Committee  on  strike. 
If  ever  one  was  justified  this  is.  In  general 
way  the  lot  of  Lord  STANLEY  and  his  col- 
leagues is  not  a  happy  one.  They  give  up 
much  time  and  thought  to  controlling 


A   NAVAL  FIELD  BATTER,  Y   FOR  THE  JUBILEE! 

["  I  can  only  say  that  the  bluejackets  will  be  brought  up  from  the  ports,  because  it  has  been 
consideted  that  their  appearance  at  conspicuous  parts  of  the  route  would  be  satisfactory  to  the 
public  at  large  and  agreeable  to  the  men  themselves." — Mr.  Croscheti's  reply  to  Admiral  Fteld.] 


SARK  says  CHANCELLOR  OF  EXCHEQUER 
has  been  approached  on  subject,  but  is 
obdurate.  "  No  more  grants-in-aid  this 
year,"  ST.  MICHAEL  says,  instinctively 
buttoning  up  his  pockets.  "  We  Ve  sub- 
sidised the  landlords,  bolstered  up  the 
Church  schools,  tossed  a  trifle  to  Board 
Schools,  and  hired  the  Campania  to  take 
Members  to  the  Naval  Review.  We  must 
draw  the  line  somewhere,  and  it's  ruled 
firm  and  deep  at  a  midday  meal  eaten  at 
the  nation's  expense  under  the  storied 
rafters  of  Westminster  Hall." 

The  BLAMELESS  HARTLEY  explains  that 
he  doesn't  want  anything  for  nothing. 
What  he  resents  is  demand  of  a  guinea  for 
mere  luncheon.  "  Five  bob  is  ample,"  he 
says,  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment 
dropping  into  the  vernacular.  "  The 
Kitchen  Committee  get  coal,  gas,  china, 
glass,  cutlery,  table-cloths,  all  for  nothing, 
rent  free,  and  no  questions  asked.  Place 
the  business  on  those  terms  in  the  hands 
of  the  National  Penny  Bank,  Limited,  and 
we  '11  undertake  to  turn  you  out  a  good 
lunch  at  three  and  six  a  head,  with  ginger- 


commissariat  department  of  House,  and 
get  no  thanks.  By  way  of  making  up  that 
omission  they  are  continually  grumbled  at. 
In  connection  with  Jubilee  they  have  put 
on  extra  spurt  in  endeavour  to  make  Mem- 
bers and  their  friends  comfortable  on 
what  should  be  a  happy  day.  Straight- 
way immaculate  Members  are  up  in  arms, 
asking  Why  is  this,  and  Why  is  that,  and 
Who  says  they  sha'n't  go  into  Westminster 
Hall,  ticket  or  no  ticket  ? 

To  this,  culminating  to-day  in  more 
questions  addressed  to  FIRST  COMMISSIONER 
OF  WORKS,  Committee  reply  by  taking  off 
their  aprons,  turning  down  their  shirt- 
sleeves, putting  on  caps  and  coats,  and 
leaving  the  premises.  If  Members  want 
luncheon  they  must  share  the  BLAMELESS 
BARTLEY'S  cold  bacon  and  bottled  half-and- 
half. 

General  ill-humour  about  what  ought  to 
be  a  joyous  day.  MACARTNEY  didn't  im- 
prove matters  by  his  elaborate  little  joke. 
Still,  it  was  well  done :  much  enjoyed 
by  Members  who  are  not  dependent  on 
Campania  for  dinner  and  bed  on  Jubilee 


light.  JOHN  AIRD  wanted  to  know 
whether  arrangements  have  been  com- 
pleted for  enabling  Members  and  their 
riends,  seeing  the  review  from  the 
kimpania,  to  stay  on  for  the  illumina- 
ions.  As  at  present  arranged,  having  had 
Yugal  lunch  served  to  them  at  national 
'xpense,  the  Campania  company  are  to  be 
put  ashore  in  time  to  catch  afternoon 
Tains  for  London. 

Appearance  of  MACARTNEY  at  table  to 
mswer  question  gave  assurance  of  hope  to 
VIembers  personally  interested.  No  man 
could  beam  like  the  Secretary  to  the 
Admiralty  did  unless  he  had  good  news. 

"Yes,  Sir,"  he  said  cheerily,"!  am  glad 
to  say  it  has  been  possible  to  make  such 
irrangements.  (Cheers.)  Accommodation 
can  be  provided  for  350  persons  to  dine 
— (renewed  cheers) — sleep — (loud  cheers) 
— and  breakfast — (hilarious  applause) — on 
board  the  ship.  The  charge  will  bi'  fit'i' 
/tiineas  a  head."  A  pained  silence,  broken 
by  low  groans. 

Business  done. — Employers'  Liability  Bill 
in  Committee. 

Friday. — General  jubilation  at  adjourn- 
ment for  Whitsun  Recess.  Only  HENNIKEK 
HEATON  gloomy  and  depressed. 

"All  very  well  for  you  and  the  rest  to 
go  and  make  merry,"  he  said,  when  I 
asked  him  if  he  wasn't  feeling  well.  "  You 
don't  care  a  rap  whether  the  telegraph 
people  reckon  stepfather  as  two  words, 
whilst  you  may  get  your  grandmother 
through  as  one.  It's  different  with  me. 
Can't  sleep  o'  nights  thinking  of  it.  Then 
there's  Charing  Cross.  Is  Charing  Cross 
one  place  or  more  ?  I  know  of  only  one, 
and  yet  they  make  two  words  of  it  at  the 
telegraph  office.  Similarly  Kentish  Town 
is  reckoned  at  a  penny  in  a  message, 
whereas  you  may  welter  in  Woodford 
Green  for  a  half-penny. 

"  Why  these  things  should  be  I  can't  tell 
you,  and  I  can't  get  the  Postmaster- 
General  to  tell  me.  The  only  gleam  of 
light  on  a  darkened  existence  was  flashed 
on  me  when  the  Duke  of  NORFOLK,  in 
response  to  earnest  and  repeated  entreaty, 
allowed  mother-in-law  to  go  as  one  word. 
In  his  letter  to  me  his  Grace  said  the  re- 
lations with  one's  mother-in-law  are  so 
tender  and  intimate,  the  occasions  for 
loving  communication  so  frequent,-  the 
desire  for  rapid  inter-communication  so 
overpowering  that  he  really  could  not 
turn  a  deaf  ear  to  my  petition.  So  mother- 
in-law  costs  you  only  a  halfpenny.  But, 
as  I  say,  the  Post  Office,  whilst  passing 
your  grandmother  on  the  same  terms,  draws 
the  line  at  stepfather,  sternly  insisting  on 
a  penny.  You  may  go  and  jubilate  in  the 
Jubilee  if  you  like.  For  me,  whilst  these 
things  are,  life  is  scarcely  worth  living." 

Business  done. — Adjourned  for  Whitsun 
Recess.  

A  Recent   Incident. 

BY  the  side  of  a  murmuring  BROOKS 

An  elderly  gentleman  walked ; 
The  one  was  excited  in  looks, 

The  other  quite  cool  as  he  talked. 
He  spoke  of  the  folly  of  youth, 

In  tones  that  go  straight  to  the  heart, 
His  moral  was  "Stick  to  the  Truth." 

"  Stick !  " — "  ITm — here 's  the  House — we 
must  part." 

OBSERVATION  BY  A  SPECIAL  CORRE- 
SPONDENT WITH  THE  GREEK  HF.ADQUARTERS 
STAFF. — At  the  seat  of  War!  Why,  we 
never  had  time  to  sit  down! 


JI:NK  12,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


2b7 


AUGUSTE  EN  ANGLETERRE. 

THE  SALOON  or  LONDON. 

DM  MI  MISTKH, 

I  visit  the  lioyal  Academy  one  certain  afternoon.  Then-  is 
enormously  of  world.  [mpOMible  of  to  circulate!  Impossible  of 
In  sec  tin1  pictures!  And  what  of  persons  who  have  not  of  the 
all  tlio  air  of  to  be  artist  painters!  What  nf  ulil  ladys,  what 
of  young  i/urn/m-iir,  tliat.  which  you  call  "smashers,"  what  of 
misses  of  province  in  costumes  truly  remarkable,  above  all  what 
of  clergyman*  !  SH/II  i^li ,  </u>  ill-  ••'.  ii/iinm  us  '  Almost  one  would 
believe  himself  in  a  missionary's  meeting,  or  in  a  churches  con- 
gress. Xinit-i/x  itiniili  iirs  il'itrt,  li-x  rli-r<iyman.i  anglain!  Kh  well, 
I  go  to  essay,  and  by  degrees  I  slip  myself  at  the  middle  of  the 
erowd  in  the  first  saloon.  At  pain  I  see  the  pictures.  Unhappily 
I  have  not  two  meters  of  height,  and  by  consequence,  almost  ail 
tin-  time,  I  see  nothing  at  cause  of  the  hats  high  of  form  of  the 
smashers,  or  of  the  hats,  still  more  high  of  form,  of  the  gigantic 
misses.  What,  enormous  hats!  What  enormous  misses!  Some 
veritable  a.ma/.ons! 

However,  I  succeed  to  see  some  ones  of  the  pictures.  He 
seems  to  me  that  the  painters  who  have  not  made  some  portraits 
or  some  landscapes  have  produced  some  scene  of  interior. 
What  of  pictures  of  the  home!  What  of  babys,  of  little  childs, 
of  little  dogs,  of  grandmothers,  of  cats,  of  nurses!  Some  ones 
are  charming,  but  at  the  fine  that  becomes  fatiguing.  Then 
evidently,  for  to  repose  himself,  one  must  to  regard  the  number- 
ous  pictures  of  NAPOLEON  FIRST.  I  see  two  pictures  enough  re- 
markable and  enough  surrounded  of  spectators — the  Halmet  of 
Mister  ABBEY,  and  the  JSoulter's  Lock  of  Mister  GREGORY.  H» 
iif  .«  ri-su-itilili-nt  pas,  they  resemble  not  themselves,  they  are 
tragedy  and  comedy — a  tragedy  of  the  most  sombres,  a  comedy 
of  the  most  gays.  In  effect  the  colours  of  the  Lock  of  Boulter 
are  almost  too  much  gay.  While  that  I  regard  them,  ebloui,  a 
fat  lady,  a  little  aged,  says  to  a  mister  who  accompanies  her, 
"  That  is  a  scheme  of  colour."  Then  I  perceive  that  she  has  the 
hairs  of  gold,  and  that  she  carries  a  robe  of  red  adorned  of  blue, 
and  I  comprehend  that  she  has  much  studied  the  "schemes  of 
colour,"  but  until  here  not  very  well ! 

liy  degrees  I  traverse  all  the  halls,  and  I  arrive  to  the  gallery 
of  sculpture,  almost  desert,  and  more  late  the  gallery  of  archi- 
tecture, absolutely  desert.  I  have  not  envy  of  to  repose  my- 
self in  this  sad  solitude.  But  I  am  suchly  fatigued  that  I  desire 
to  find  the  sideboard,  k  buffet.  It  would  be  very  agreeable  to 
drink  the  fivocklock — a  vermouth  with  some  water  of  seltz,  or 
perhaps  an  english  "  lemonsquasch  "  with  much  of  sugar — sur- 
rounded of  sculpture  and  of  verdure  as  at  Paris.  Ah,  the  beauti- 
ful occasion  of  to  smoke  a  cigarette,  and  of  to  see  to  pass  the 
adorable  misses! 

Eh  well,  I  demand  to  an  employed,  at  the  tourniquet,  where  is 
the  sideboard,  the  "  bar."  He  indicates  to  me  the  route.  Of 
new  I  traverse  the  crowd,  and  I  arrive  to  the  gallery  of  the 
mi  mi  n-lli-x.  Unuseful  then  of  to  demand  the  bar,  at  the  middle 
of  a  such  odour  of  the  kitchen !  C'est  evidemment  par  la.  Tieni, 
/is  i-iirix!  Hold,  the  caves!  Hold,  the  noses!  It  is  a  subter- 
ranean kitchen.  Again  I  traverse  the  crowd  and  I  demand  the 
bar.  Again  the  employed  indicates  to  me  the  gallery  of  the 
\vater-coloureds.  I  say,  "No,  it  is  not  by  there,  it  is  the 
kitchen."  But  he  responds  to  me  that  if,  qw-  si,  and  that  I 
must  to  descend.  As  that  I  arrive  in  fine  to  a  restaurant,  still 
more  sad  than  the  gallery  of  architecture.  Not  of  verdure,  not 
of  sculpture,  not  of  occasion  of  to  smoke!  I  arrest  myself  at 
the  entry. 

While  that  I  hesitate,  a  nuiiViv  il'ln'ifi'l,  that  which  you  call  "top 
waiter,"  demands  me  if  I  desire  "the  shilling  tea."  What  is 
this  that  this  is  that  that?  He  responds,  "You  pay  a  shilling, 
and  you  eat  as  much  a.s  you  like.  Alton*  done!  To  eat  so 
much  of  the  bread  and  butter,  of  the  buns  of  bath,  of  the  spongy 
cakes,  of  the  jam  pies,  all  that  with  some  innumerable  cups  of 
teaP  Nujjrisfi,  qur  turn.'  Millr  fois  nan!  Sans  mot  dire  je 
m'enfvM,  without  word  to  say  I  fly  myself,  and  I  arrest  not  my- 
self before  of  to  arrive  in  the  Piccadilly.  Me  I  love  not  much 
the  tea,  but  a  prodigious  fivocklock  as  that,  in  a  cellar — ah  no, 
thank  you!  Agree,  &c.,  AUGUSTS. 


The  Boastfulness   of  Belinda. 

Arabella  (rmi<7i«/in<;  tin-  ilisi'rii>linii  af  fin'  mngnificrnrr  of  her 
emplejer't  hnnir).  And  iii  the  servants'  'all  we  'as  'ot  plovers' 
heggs  cv'ry  mornin'  for  brrkfist . 

lirlhiilit.  That's  nothin'.  At  hour  'ouse  hall  the  fires  is  laid 
with  reel  sparrow-grass  sticks  instead  of  wood ! 

[Arabella  rfriVj  »;>. 


SONGS    AND    THEIR    SINGERS.      No.   XIII. 


A  TOAST  TO  THE  POSTER  GIRL. 

(By  an  Artful  Advertiser. ) 

HERE'S  to  the  maiden  in  verdigris  green, 

Here  's  to  the  beauty  in  brimstone ; 
Here  'a  to  the  flaunting,  flat,  Poster-girl,  seen 

On  hoarding-board,  dull  brick,  or  grim  stone ! 

Chorum. 

Let  the  toast  pass — 
Drink  to  the  lass ! 
I  "11  warrant  she  'II  prove — as  a  Poster — first-class ! 

Here  's  to  the  charmer  with  nose  Roman  size  ; 

Or  the  nymph  who  can  boast  next  to  none,  Sir ; 
Here  's  to  the  girl  with  a  pair  of  green  eyes, 

And  a  face  like  a  twopenny  bun,  Sir. 

Chorua — Let  the  toast  pass,  &c. 

Here  's  to  the  maid  with  a  bosom  quite  flat, 
And  a  mouth  like  a  mouldy  squashed  cherry  ; 

Here  's  to  the  girl  with  a  grove  on  her  hat, 
A  crude  caricature  of  Miss  TERRY. 

Chorua — Let  tile  toast  pass,  Ac. 

For  let  'em  be  gawky,  or  let  "em  be  grim, 

And  crowned  with  a  knot  or  a  feather, 
Fill  a  bumper  of  "  Boy,"  yes,  bang  up  to  the  brim, 

And  toast  all  the  caboodle  together! 

Chorus. 

Let  the  toast  pass — 
Drink  to  the  lass! 
I  '11  warrant  she  'II  prove — as  an  Ad. — quite  first-class! 


FROM  THE  IRREPRESSIBLE  (not  captured).— A  daily  paper  states 
that  a  certain  Syndicate  is  making  a  "  corner  "  in  Poultry  for  the 
Jubilee  week.  We  suppose  that  this  is  the  result  of  British 
hen-terprise. 

A  Great  Power  to  the   Little  Ones. 

FREEDOM  's  first  rate,  for  Powers  of  first-class  size  ; 
But  little  powers  must  not  take  liberties. 


"TitE  SEATS  OF  THE  MIGHTY." — Jubilee  Show  seats  at   sensa- 
tion prices. 


238 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  12,  1897. 


Monsieur.  "VoiLA  UN  CHIBN  COMIQUE  !    WHAT  YOU  CALL  HIM?" 

Miss.  "I  THINK  IT  is  A  TERKIER." 

Monsieur.  "TERRIER,  PARBLEU !    THEN  I  CALL  HIM  VENTRE  A  TERRE-IER!" 


A  TAIL  OF  SCIENCE. 

(By  Tommy.) 

[At  a  meeting  of  the  Royal  Meteorological  So- 
ciety, Mr.  ]•].  MAWLEY  presiding,  a  paper  "On  the 
use  of  Kites  to  obtain  Meteorological  Records  in  the 
Upper  Air,"  by  Mr.  A.  LAWRENCE  ROTCH  of  the 
Blue  Hill  Observatory,  Mass.,  was  read.] 

EXCEPT  3/  r.  Dick  and  myself — whom  Sci- 
ence has  now  proved  right — 
I  fancy  that  no  one  in  history  has  given 

due  meed  to  the  kite  ! 
There  was  BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN,  of  course, 

who  knew  it  was  more  than  a  toy  ; 
But  the  pioneer  of  Science,  I  hold,  after 

all,  was  the  Boy! 
The  toys  of  youth,   you  will   find,  if  you 

look  with  unprejudiced  eye, 
Have  taught  man  to  dive  and  to  soar,  and 

will  probably  teach  him  to  fly. 
I  spent  all  my  pocket-money  hist  month  in 

a  monster  kite  ; 
And  my  father  spanked  me — for  waste — 

and  said  it  was  sinful,  quite, 
To   squander  on  paper  and   paint,  and   a 

mile  of  string  on  a  skewer, 
What  I  might  have  spent  on  a  book  upon 

Science  by  HUXLEY  or  BHEWER. 
And  now  come  Mr.  MAWLEY,  and  Mr.  A. 

LAWHENCK  HOTCH, 
To    prove   that    as    Science's  wonder   and 

meteorology's  watch, 
The  kilo  of  our  youth  takes  the  cake!    In 

informing  my  Uov.  I  sh;\ll  glory. 
Hooray  for  that  LAWRENCE  ROTCH  of  the 

Blue  Hill  Observatory ! 
'Tis  a  lovely  tale,  by  Jingo,  chock  full  ot 

those  long-tailed  words 
On   which   the   Gov.   is   so  sweet.      These 

kites  they  use,  like  birds, 
With  an  Ait-iOtothennograph,   or  a  Baro- 

thermohygrogi  aph , 
Attached  to  each  aluminium   tail    -and  this 

isn't,  my  chaff — 


And  they  '11  tell  you  all  sorts  of  things 
about  height,  and  heat,  and  humidity  ; 

And  to  kick  at  a  kite  after  that  is  a  proof 
of  paternal  stupidity. 

I  mean  to  mug  up  those  long  words,  as  I 
know  it  will  please  the  Gov. 

If  there  's  one  thing  more  than  another  my 
respected  pater  does  love, 

It  is  what  he  calls  polly-syllables.  I  '11 
give  'em  to  him  in  plenty, 

Like  Mr.  Titr  Barnacle,  with  "circumlo- 
cution," "  with  the  air  of  ahout  five- 
and-twenty," 

For  that  will  fetch  him  tremendous ;  and 
just  won't  dad  look  seraphical, 

And  give  me  a  tip — when  I  come  out  slick 
with — Barothermohygrographical  ? 


INTERVIEWS   WITH   INANIMATE 
OBJECTS. 

A    BAltREL-OllGAN. 

IT  is  no  easy  matter  to  successfully  in- 
terview a  barrel-organ.  How  I  managed 
it  must  remain  a  secret,  tempered  by  one 
dark  hint  of  "  bribery  and  corruption." 

"  What  dp  you  consider  your  proper 
rank  as  an  instrument  of — of — music  ?  " 

"  Beyond  all  question,  I  should  head  the 
list.  Other  instruments  have'  no  concep- 
tion of  tune  apart  from  a  more  or  less 
skilled  musician,  whereas  the  veriest 
donkey-power,  if  properly  applied,  is  all 
that  I  need  for  the  production  of  melody." 

"I  think  I  gra.sp  the  idea.  The  trumpet, 
trombone,  and  fiddle,  are,  comparatively 
speaking,  raw  material,  but  what  of  the 
musical  box  ?  " 

"  I  confess  that  the  musical  box  runs  me 
close  in  intelligence,  but  it  is  deficient  in 
power,  and  cannot  produce  my  truly  or- 
chestral effects." 

"What  is  your  favourite  definition  of 
yourself  ?  " 


"As  a  powerful  instrument  for  the  ele- 
vation of  the  masM's." 

"Then  your  mission  is ?" 

"To  disseminate  far  and  wide  the  choice 
music-hall  melodies  of  the  day." 

"  What  is  your  favourite  tune  ?  " 

"  It  is  rather  hard  to  select  where  so 
many  are  really  good.  Personally,  I  place 
"E  dunno  where  'e  are'  in  the  very  front 
rank,  but  there  is  no  denying  a  great  deal 
of  inspiration  to  '  Tlic  liia/in  Man.'" 

"  Have  you  not  been  objected  to  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  by  confirmed  faddists  who  have 
no  music  in  their  soul.  I  quite  agree  with 
MAX  NOUDAII  that  the  mass  of  artistic  and 
literary  men  are  neurotic  degenerates,  an;l 
therefore  unworthy  of  consideration." 

"But  have  you  no  pity  for  invalids?  " 

"  A  case  of  genuine  illness  is  a  different 
matter,  but  there  are  so  many  malmli'x 
iiiiiiiihiiilri'x  in  this  world,  that  a  medical 
certificate  should  always  bo  forthcoming." 

"  Is  it  not  true  that  some  grinders  are 
unsympathetic,  and  would  refuse  to  move 
on,  even  for  a  medical  certificate  ?  " 

"  A  great  deal  of  nonsense  has  been 
written  on  the  subject.  I  have  never  yet 
known  a  man  refuse  to  move  on,  if  pre- 
sented with  half-a-crown  for  the  purpose." 

"  Would  not  that  be  an  expensive  me- 
thod of  purchasing  peace  and  quietness  ?  " 

"  That  leads  me  up  to  my  great  remedy 
for  everything!  Music  is  an  integral  part 
of  education.  Money  is  being  spent  on 
Voluntary  Schools  and  necessitous  Hoard 
Schools.  Why  should  not  the  CHAN- 
CELLOR OF  THE  EXCHEQUER  endow  all  the 
barrel-organs  of  the  nation?  It  would 
then  become  unnecessary  for  a  grinder  to 
insist  upon  playing  at  any  given  spot, 
and  houses  where  sickness  prevailed  might 
hang  out  some  recognised  sign  which 
would  secure  immunity.  Of  course,  to 
prevent  imposture,  the  Public  Officer  of 
Health  (or,  perhaps,  the  Charity  Organi- 
sation Society)  would  inquire  carefully 
in  every  case  to  see  that  it  was  a  fcomi  fide 
case  of  illness." 

"  Admirable !  And  now,  what  do  you 
think  of  the  prospects  of  English  music?" 

"  There  is  much  to  encourage*  the  con- 
noisseur. Music-halls  are  spreading,  and 
leavening  the  population.  You  will  find 
I m  boys  and  girls  capable  of  whistling  the 
latest  music-hall  ditty,  for  every  nnc.  who 
could  do  so  a  few  years  ago.  Yes  ;  the 
outlook  is  distinctly  promising'" 

Just  then,  someone  began  to  turn  the 
handle,  and  I  retired. 


THE  LAY  OF  A  GARDEN  HAT 

A  Swain  having  been  rcproaelicd  lnj  his  Fiancee 

for  cutting  her,  n-/ifii:i. 
DEAR  AMY,  do  not  think  I  deem 

You  not,  as  ever,  charming, 
The  subject  for  a  poet's  dream, 

One's  sense  and  heart  disarming! 
So  prithee,  in  your  mercy  say 

You  will  not  be  too  hard  on 
The  man  who  can  but  crave  and  pray 

To  gain  a  boon — your  pardon  ! 
It  simply  was  because  you  wear 

A  hat  of  such  pretensions, 
That  underneath  its  gay  imrti  i-n- 

You  lose  your  own  dimensions. 
That  hat  conceals  your  violet  eyes 

With  artificial  roses. 
And  recognition  so  defies 

One  wonders  where  your  nose  is ! 
It  is  a  hat  that  wants  much  room, 

Bedecked  beyond  expression — 
I  only  trust  you  Ml  clip  its  bloom 

Ifrfore.  the  QUEEN'S  Procession! 


JUNE  19,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


289 


THE    QUEEN!!! 


T  >  pen  a  ballad  of  dead  queens 
FRANCOIS  VILLON  should  come  again. 

Lo !  strangest  of  all  dreamland's  scenes, 
They  comi,  in  gorgeous,  flittering  train, 
From  Carthige,  Ezyot,  France  and  Spain, 

Palmyra,  Sheba,  Babylon.     See  ! 
Fair  greeting-hands  they  lift  amain 

To  hail  VICTORIA'S  Jubilee ! 


Here  CLEOPATRA'S  Circe  form, 
There  swift  SRMIRAMIS,  and  there 

Deserted  DIDO  !    Desert-warm, 
Pard-like  ZBNOHIA,  fierce  and  fair. 
BALKIS  of  Sheba !     With  trailed  hair, 


With  firm-gript  lance  and  gesture  free, 

BOADIOBA  !     And  ANNB— strange  pair  !— 
To  hail  VICTORIA'S  Jubilee ! 

Hninault's  PnttirpA,  EDWARD'S  bride/ 
The  brare  she-lion  ELIZABETH, 

HARY,  MAHIA  the  Austrian's  pride. 
That  lovelier  MARIE,  wed  to  death, 
JOSEPHINE,  CATHEHiNg,'she  whose  breath 


Wafted  COLUMBUS  o'er  the  sea  !— 

Earth's  host  of  great  queens  mustereth 
To  hail  VICTORIA'S  Jubilee ! 

God  sare  the  QUIKN  !    So  shout  her  peers, 
Great  shades  from  earth's  long  history, 

Whi  greet  VICTORIA'S  Sixty  Tears, 
And  hail  her  Diamond  Jubilee ! 


VOL.    CX.ll. 


0  c 


290 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JuxK  19,  1897. 


TOM  THUMB 

AT 

BUCKING- 
HAM 
PALACE. 

"    T    O     M 

THUMB  ex- 
hibited in 
the  evening 
at  Bucking- 
ham Palace 
as  N  A  PO  - 
LEON,  HER 
MAJESTY 
liking  a  little 
nap  after 
dinner."  So 
said  M r . 
Punch  in  his 
' '  Bubbles  of 
the  Tear  " 


(1844),under 
date  April  2, 
of  his  Alma- 
nack for  the 
year  1845. 
The  young 
QUIIN  in 
taking  her 
little  NAP— 
by  the  hand ; 
the  PRINCE 
CONSORT, 
the  Duke  of 
WELLING- 
TON, Sir 
R  o  BERT 
PEEL,  Lord 
BROUGHAM, 
and  Sir 
JAMES  GRA- 
HAM looking 
admiringly 
on. 


ME.  PUNCH'S  DRAMATIC  DREAM. 

MR.  PUNCH  was  certainly  seated  in  a  private  box,  so  JS 
he  must  have  been  in  a  theatre.      But  what  the  play       2/ 
was  about,  and  where  it  was  performed,  are  different 
matters.     Mr.  Punch  refuses  to  pledge  himself.     All  he 
knows  is  that  he  had  many  visitors.    He  recognised  most 
of  them,  and 
theyallknew 
him. 

"This  place 
is  more  com- 
fortable than 
theold  house 
of  '37,"  said 
Mr.  MAC- 
READY.  "In 
the  early 
days  of  1 1  EH 
MAJESTY'S 
reign  stalls 
were  un- 
known." 

"Yes,  and 
the  patent 
theatres  had 
a  monopoly 
of  the  legiti- 
mate," ob- 
served Mr. 
SHEKIDAN 
KNOWLES. 
"In  our  time 
a  play  had  to 
be  turned  in- 
to a  burletta 
and  gar- 
nished with 
music  before 
it  could  be 
produced 
elsewhere." 

"At  the 
Haymarket, 
just  sixty 
years  ago 
continued 
Mr.  MAC- 
READY,  "  I 
was  playing 
in  a  version 
of  BEAU- 
MONT and 
FLETCHER'S 
Maid's  Tra- 


1846. 

commenced 


THE    year    commenced    with 
whisperings    and    winks    extremely 
knowing,  predicting  that  the  Com  Laws 
soon  weie  going,  going,  going. 

"  But  perhaps  the  most  important  day 
of  all  that  can  be  reckon'd,  is  that  of  January 
month  the  famous  22nd,  when  Parliament  was 
opened  in  person  by  the  QUEEN,  and  all  were 
quite  agog  to  know  what  might  the  rumours 
mean,  of   changes  in  the  Corn  Laws  or 
sweeping  them  away ;   when   poo 
ROBERT  PEEL  got  up  to  have  at  last 
his  cay." — Mr.  Punch's  Chro- 
nology for  1846 


gedy,  called  by  our  friend  here,  The  Bridal.    I  of  course 
took  the  principal  character  myself." 

"I  was  singing  at  His  Majesty's  Theatre  at  the  same 
date,  and  they  called  me  Miss  GHISI,"  said  a  famous 
cantatrice,  ' '  and  I  had  for_  my  colleagues  PASTA  and 
LABLACHE."  ' '  "Who  was 

at  the 
Strand?" 
asked  Mr. 
Pimch.  "  I 
fancy  they 
were  playing 
a  piece  by 
MONCBIEFF, 
called  Sam 
WeUer  ;  or, 
the  Piclcwick- 
ians.  "Who 
was  in  it  ?  " 
"I  quite 
forget,"  said 
Mrs.  STIR- 
LING. ' '  But 
at  the  date 
of  our  dear 
QUEEN'S  ac- 
cession there 
were  at  least 
two  of  your 
own  merry 
men  writing: 
for  the  stage, 
DOUGLAS 
JERROLD,  of 
Black-eyed 
Rusan  fame, 
and  King  In- 
cog, Revolt  o/' 
the  Work- 
houie,  GIL- 
BERTABBOTT 
ABECXETT." 

"Before  my 
time,"  cried 
Mr.  Punch. 
"I  did  not 
take  up  my 
permanent 
abode  in 
London 
until  1841, 
and  you  are 
talking  of 
1837." 


JUNE  19,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


291 


MADAME  LA  MODE  REVIEWS  A  FEW  OF  HER  VAGARIES  DURING  THE  LAST  SIXTY  YEARS. 


292 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  19,  1897. 


QUEEN    VICTORIA 

THE  Victorian  Era  and   the  Punchian  Period  have 
been,  as  was  fitting,  almost  exactly  contemporaneous. 
HER  MOST  GRACIOUS  MAJESTY  had— as  was  also  fitting, 
/ilace  aux  dames  ! — a  little  start.     VICTORIA  acceded  to 
her  throne,  upon  the  death  of  WILLIAM  THE  FOURTH, 
on  June  20,   1837,   and  was  proclaimed   on  the  21st. 
i'lihi-li  came  into  his  kingdom  just  four  years  later  in 
1841.andwas 
proclaimed,    5(J 
urbi  et   arbi, 
by    Preface, 
his   own   fa- 
voured    and 
especial  form 
of  proclama-    ^ 
tion        and 
edict ,    on 
July  17th  of 
that  year. 

Punch, 
however, 
though  own- 
ing no  man 
master,  was 
ever  a  loyal 
subject  to  his 
Sovereign 
Lady,  whom, 
in  his  third 
number,  he 
referred  to  as 

"HIS 

ROYAL 

MISTRESS, 

"ever  solici- 
tous to  en- 
chain the 
hearts  of  her 
devoted  sub- 
jects by  an 
impartial  use 
of  her  pre- 
rogative." 

With  a 
foresight 
truly  re- 
markable, 
he,  in  his 
sixth  num- 
ber, when 
the  young 
QUEEN,  only 
just  of  age, 
had  occupied 


"THIS  is  a  time  of  sharp  in- 
trigue,  confusion,  noise  and  bustle 
for  ROBERT  FEEL   has  lost  his  place 
and  given  place  to    RUSSELL.      So 
** Great  Commoner"  retires,  but  in  h 
attitude ;  sure  of  remembrance  by  the 
with    goodwill    and    with    gratitude, 
gentle,   constitutional,  young   QUEEN    well 
stands  the  test  of  welcoming  the  coming, 
while  she  speeds  the  parting,  guest.     Sir 
R  IBEKT'S  followers  look  glum  and  mutter 
grim  admonishment,  whilst  JOHNNH'B 


AND    MR.    PUNCH. 

the  throne  of  \  the  world- wide  British  Empire  for  four 
years  only,  referred  to  her  in  his  "  Royal  Rhythmical 
Alphabet  "  in  this  prophetic  line : — 

"  V  is  for  VICTORIA,  '  the  Bess  of  Forty-one.' " 

Naii',  fifty-six  years  later,  everybody  is  drawing  com- 
parisons between  VICTORIA  and  that  earlier  great  English 

.  q    u  e  e  n  , 
ELIZABETH, 


whom  she 
has  rivalled 
iu  glory,  and 
surpassed 
both  in  all 
womanly  ex- 
cellence and 
in  length  of 
reign.  Let 
it  be  remem- 
bered that 
Punch  pro- 
phetically 
and  publicly 
made  that 
comparison 
as  early  as 
August  21, 
in  the  year  of 
grace  1841. 

Punch, — 
who  to  slight- 
ly modify  the 
familiar  aspi- 
ration of  HER 
MAJESTY'S 
earliest  Poet 
Laureate, 

" could 

wish  his  days 
to  be 

Bound  each  to 
each  byra tion  - 
al  loyalty," — 

is  now  cele- 
brating, in 
his  Hundred 
and  Twelfth 
Volume,  the 
Diamond 
Jubilee  of  the 
same  royal 
lady  whom 
he  soberly 
honoured  in 
his  First. 


SOME   JUBILEE   STATISTICS. 

(By  a  Mathematician  very  Much  Abroad.) 

IT  has  been  estimated  that  the  seats  to  view  the  Procession, 
if  placed  side  by  side,  would  reach  from  St.  Paul's  to  Liverpool ; 
but  that  is  not  all,  for  calculating  from  the  returns  to  hand  which 
are  based  on  the  1887  figures,  it  appears  that 

7,126,459  corns  will  be  trodden  on  257,166,002  times  between 
the  hours  of  9  A.M.  and  3  P.M.  on  June  22.  Their  respective 
owners  will  utter  949,422,785,124  imprecations,  which,  if  care- 
fully recorded  in  623,655  phonographs,  instead  of  being  wasted 
on  the  wrong  persons,  would  be  enough  to  supply  the  whole 
population  of  London  and  their  heirs  at  the  rate  of  188,472.142857 
per  head  until  the  arrival  of  MACAULAY'B  New  Zealander  in 
3258  A.D. 

"  Now  we  sha'n't  be  long  1 "  will  be  remarked  by  6,238,651  per- 
sons, 6,237,520  of  whom  ought  to  be  confined  in  58,109  lunatic 
asylums,  the  remaining  1,131  having  escaped  for  the  day. 

2,642  Derby  dogs  will  get  in  the  way  of  the  cortege,  giving  vent 
to  38.122  howls,  and  receiving  400,009  kicks. 

•2  .WQ  npo  vipws  wMl  HP  nWured  by  248,906  matine'e  hats. 


94,361  infants  will  be  lost  or  mislaid  by  94,180  mothers— the 
difference  in  these  totals  being  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that 
358  will  be  twins. 

32,(>04  persons  of  the  male  sex  will  not  come  home  that  night, 
having  lost,  so  14,392  will  say,  178,299  trains  ;  the  remainder  will 
appear  in  218  police-courts  the  next  morning. 

Of  the  289,175  seat-holders  52.3  per  cent,  will  view  only  the 
top  half  of  the  Royal  Bonnet,  17.06  per  cent,  will  be  busy  with 
lunch  at  the  critical  moment,  8.5  per  cent,  will  have  fainted 
from  fatigue  or  excitement,  and  7.17  per  cent,  will  not  get  there 
at  all.  

A  Peep   into  the   Crystal  Palace. 

HANDEL  is  the  composer  in  possession.  The  motto  of  the 
day  is  "  Manns  conscia  recti."  It  will  be  a  great  week  for  the 
Palace,  which  will  always  be  a  genuine  delight  for  all  visiting 
London  on  "  this  occasion  only,"  and  who  would  omit  from  their 
agenda  almost  anything  rather  than  a  visit  to  the  Crystal  Palace, 
especially  during  a  "Handel  Festival."  The  C.  P.,  with  a 
HANDEL  to  its  name,  is  an  irresistible  attraction.  Mr.  P.  wishes 
the  C.  P.  a  big  success  with  the  B.  P. 


JUNE  19,  1897.) 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


293 


1837. 


THE    JOURNALIST-THEN. 

THE  FLEET  Ptusnv. 


THE    JOURNALIST-NOW. 

FLEKT  STREET. 


294 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI 


[JUNE  19,  1897. 


.IU.NK  19,   1897.] 


ITNCH.    01!    THK     LONDON    ('HAIM  Y.\  IM. 


2H5 


y& 

-*-:     m 


HPryA.      ^^Xt 


D  li 


296 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUKE  19,  1897. 


AT   THE    DIAMOND    JUBILEE. 

First  Doubtful  Character.  "  MY  EYE,  MATE,  THIS  is  A  SQUASH  !  " 

Second  D.  C.    "SQUASH!   WHY,  S'ELP  ME,  IF  I  AIN'T  'AD  MY  'AND  IN  THIS  COVE'S  POCKET  FOR  THE  LARST  TWENTY  MINITS,  AN' 
CAN'T  GET  IT  OUT  ! " 


EXTREMES    MEET; 

OK,  SOME  VICTORIAN  CONTRASTS. 

I. 

SCENE — A  Club  Smoking-room.  (ARTIST — Mr.  Punch.)  CHARACTERS — 
AUGUSTUS  FITZFADDELL,  a  "heavy  swell,"  tempore  LEECH,  with 
eyeglass,  whiskers,  lisp,  and  drawl  nf  period.  BOBBIE  BLOUNT, 
a  gilded  ytnith  of  the  pnsent  day 

Augustus.  Haw — twy  one  of  these  wegaliaws  ? 

[Tendering  a  weed  of  about  the  size  of  a  rocket. 
Bobbie  (flinching  at  the  mere  sight  of  it).  My  dear  old  chap, 
afraid  I  mustn't,  really.     Never  smoke  anything  but  an  occa- 
sional cigarette,  don't  you  know. 

[Produces  a  small  gun-metal  case  with  cipher  in  brilliants, 

and  lights  a  slim,  gold-tipped  cigarette. 

Augustus.  ^Vathaw  pwetty,  those  little  paper  things — look  tho 
doothid  innothent. 

Bobbie  (looking  at  his  wrist).  Hullo,  confound  it  all!  I've 
lost  my  bangle — nuisance  1 

Augustus.  I  can  feel  for  you,  my  deaw  fellaw  ;  only  the  othaw 
day  I  lost  the  little  gwidiron  off  my  chatelaine,  and  I  've  been 
a  positive  week  evaw  since — haw. 

Bobbie  (to  himself).  Beastlv  effeminate  ass,  this.  (Aloud.) 
Ab,  we  all  have  our  sorrows,  what. 

Augustus.  I  vewy  nearly  cwied,  I  assure  you.     And  this  morn- 
ing I  made  the  howwid  discovewy  that  a  wuby  had  dwopped  out 
of  one  of  the  eyes  of  my  death's-head  scarf-pin ! 
Bobbie.  Hard  luck! 

Augustus.  It  was  thuch  a  weally  stunning  pin.  I  don't  feel 
pwoperly  dwessed  without  it. 

Bobbie.  Oh,  I  wouldn't  worry  about  that.  No  one  can  accuse 
you  of  not  being  "  dressed." 

Augustus.  Think  not?  I — aw — flattaw  myself  these  twousaws 
are  wathaw  neat.  Got  the  ideaw  from  the  zebwa  at  the  Zoo. 

Bobbie.  Rippin' — that  is,  well,  I  mean  to  say — they  look  all 
right — on  you-  « 

August"*.  Don't  you  find  it  a  howwid  baw  not  being  able  to 
gwow  any  whiskaws? 

Bobbie..  Oh,  I  don't  know  :  most  of  the  fellows  I  know  are 
rather  by  way  of  clean-shaviu' — if  you  know  what  I  mean. 

Augustus  (shuddering).  Weally?     If  I  sacwifici'd  my  whiskaws, 


I  should  look  tho  extwemely  widiculous.  They  're  the  pwide  of 
my  existence.  Without  whiskaws,  life  would  be  an — aw — dweawy 
blank. 

Bobbie.  Oh,  you  could  keep  a  poodle  or  somethin',  what  ? 

Augustus.  A  westless  quadwuped  who  would  expect  me  to 
thwow  sticks  into  the  wataw  and  muddy  my  side-spwing  boots ! 
Haw,  no  thanks.  I  feel  faint  at  the  mere  ideaw.  Take  my  arm 
and  let  us — aw — stwoll  down  Piccadilly. 

Bobbie  (to  himself).  Stroll  down  Piccadilly  arm-in-arm  with 
a  Johnny  like  an  old-fashioned  music-hall  pro !  Catch  me ! 
(Aloud.)  Er— -delighted — that  is,  well,  fact  is,  promised  I'd 
bike  down  to  Ranelagh  with  some  people.  Time  I  got  into 
bicyclin'  kit.  Do  you  ride  a  bicycle,  what? 

Augustus.  Me  wide  a  howwid  velocipede  and  woll  along  in  a 
fwantic  huwwy !  No,  no ;  I  think  any  want  of  wepose  is  shock- 
ingly vulgaw — aw. 

Bobbie.  My  dear  chap,  nowadays  the  only  really  vulgar  thing 
is  refinement.  By,  by.  (To  himself.)  Where  on  earth  has  that 
emptyheaded  bounder  sprung  from  ? 

Augustus  (to  himself).  Wegulah  snob!  Aw,  I  wondaw  what's 
become  of  all  the  weal  swells. 


THE    DIVERSIONS    OP    JUBILEE    DAY. 

LONDONERS  caiuiot  be  accused  of  taking  their  pleasure  sadly, 
or,  if  they  do,  it  is  their  own  fault,  and  not  that  of  the  officials, 
who  are  so  considerately  providing  for  their  entertainment. 

"  Vehicular  traffic  "  is  to  be  "  diverted  "  in  all  sorts  of  ways  : 
apparently  it  will  be  in  constant  fits  of  laughter. 

"  Light  vehicular  traffic  "  is  also  to  be  "  diverted,"  with  pro- 
bably some  less  boisterous  form  of  amusement.  For  "  Traffic 
going  Eastward,"  other  "  diversions  "  are  arranged. 

And,  what  is  more,  anybody  employing  vehicular  traffic,  and. 
in  spite  of  all  police  blandishments,  obstinately  refusing  to 
be  "  diverted,"  will  find  himself  in  Chokee,  or  in  Queer  Street, 
where  he  will  be  left  to  himself  to  reflect  on  the  inconvenient 
results  of  any  individual  not  falling  in  with  the  official  sense  of 
humour. 

"  Diversions  "  everywhere,  and,  probably,  most  theatres  closed. 


WEEDS  THAT  DIMINISH  APACE  AT  A  SMOKING  CONCERT. — Cigars. 


110 

"* 


JUNB  19,  1897.] 


if,    OR    THK    LONDON    CHARIVARI 


297 


PAST    AND    PRESENT.     A    SPORTSMAN'S    DIARY    OF    1837. 

"GLORIOUS  RUN  TO-DAY!    DREW  TOD'S  Go  RSI — A  SURK  FIND.    TOOK  A  SPLENDID  LINE.    Bio  JUMPING,  MOSTLY  TIMBER." 


PAST    AND    PRESENT.     A    SPORTSMAN'S    DIARY    OF    1897. 

"  \VIIETCH ED  SPURT!     \,i  l-'.>\i.s  tv  TUB  COUNTRY!     FOUND  LATE  IN  THE  AFTERNOON  AT  TOD'S  CORSE,  BUT  COULD  ::or  RIDK  A 
\ARD  FOR  WIRE.     SEVERAL  HOUNDS  KILLED  ON  THE  RAILWAY." 


298 


'l'Xril.    OR    Til!';     LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[JUNK  iy,  1S97. 


OPENING    OF^ PARLIAMENT. 

FEBRUARY  4,  1845. 

THE  opening  of  Parliament,  by  our  young  QUEEN  in  person  I 

A  theme  which  Punch's  loyal  Muse  failed  not  to  turn  a  verse  on ! 

The  fair  young  QUEEN  of  February,  Eighteen-forty-five, 

In  Eighteen-ninety-seven,  Heaven  be  thanked  I  is  yet  alive  ; 

Though  half  a  century  hath  fled,  and  forms  have  passed  away 

Of  many  great  o-nes  who  beheld  that  Royal  Opening  Day, 

The  handsome,  glad  young  CONSOBT  with  plumed  hat  and  princely 

port, 

The  venerable  Iron  Duke,  pride  of  the  young  QUEEN'S  Court, 
LYNDHUKST,   the    stately   Chancellor,   suave    GKANVILLE,   stern 

BUCCLEUCH, 

Grave  ABERDEEN,  proud  STANLEY,  NAPIER,  ELLENBOROUGH,  too, 
All  cluster  round  the  sweet  girl  QUEEN  who  holds  in  fingers  taper 
A  memorable  Royal  Speech,  that  wondrous  "  Scrap  of  Paper," 
Whilst  down  below,  in  a  wild  rush  the  "  loyal  Commons  "  troop, 
Headed  by  Mr.  SPEAKER.     PEEL  and  RUSSELL  lead  the  group. 
GRAHAM  and  GOULBURN  follow  ;  there  is  BROUGHAM'S  colossal  beak  ; 
O'CoNNELL,   with   "Repeal,"  intent   Ould   Oireland's   wrath   to 

wreak 

Upon  the  haughty  Saxon,  whilst  behind  him  swift  "  BEN  DIZZY," 
Intent  on  "  smashing  everyone,"  is  making  very  busy. 
Then  that "  Cheap  Bread  Petition !  "  Ah !  what  changes  it  portends 
Of  PEEL'S  fast  coming  policy  doomed  to  sunder  closest  friends ! 
Alas  1     Or  friends  or  foes  these  hosts  are  now  all  passed  away, 
The  QUEEN  and  Punch  alone  survive  to  greet  this  Jubilee  Day  ; 
VICTORIA  to  see  a  sight  no  Sovereign  yet  hath  seen, 
And  Punch  to  ponder  memories,  and  to  shout  "  God  save  the 

QUEEN  1 " 


JUNK  19,  1897.] 


ITNTH,    Oil    TIIK     l. 


r|  |.\  1M  \  A  III. 


293 


THALIA    AND    MKLPOMEVE,    ASSISTED    BY    MR.    PTTWH,    HOLD    A    RECEPTION    OK    NOTABLE    HISTEIONS 

OF   THE    PAST    SIXTY    YEARS. 


300 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  19,  1897. 


THE    VICTORIAN    SHIELD. 


TREK  first  he  formed  th'  immense  and  solid  shield, 
Rich  various  artifice  emblaz'd  the  field ; 
On  whose  broad  disc  the  artificer  made  plain 
The  wondrous  triumphs  of  VICTOBIA'S  reign. 
Thereon,  in  symbolism  fair,  appears 
Science's  Tictorjcourse  through  Sixty  Yeerp. 


Thereon,  too,  pictured  clear  in  every  part, 
The  gentler  conquests  of  her  sister,  Art  I 
The  images  of  Peace,  and  types  of  War ; 
Engine  and  cycle,  ship  and  motor-car, 
Great  gun's  and  swift  torpedo's  Titan  might, 
Triumphs  of  Health,  swept  ministries  of  Lieht : 


Wonders  of  speed  and  miiacles  of  Bound, 
With  Beauty's  txntdktiozif,  grace  that  rc-und. 
Of  marvels,  showing  plain  how  Tower  and  Wealth, 
Culture  and  Cultivation,  Tasfe  end  Health, 
Growths  of  her  Sixty  Tears,  their  honours,"  yield 
To  dork  the  disc  of  the  VICTOBUN  SHJFID! 


JUNK  19,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


305 


COMPASS'D    BY    THE    INVIOLATE    SEA." 

(On  the  Diamond  Jubilee  Day.) 


A  QVEF.N  sat  on  the  rooky  brow " 

Which  looks  o'er  the  broad  British  sea; 

War-ships  in  hundreds  ranged  below, 
To  grace  our  Diiuuond^Jubilee. 


flinch  counted  them,  and  cried,  "  Hooray  ! 
1  his  sight  well  crowns  a  glorious  day ! "  " 

Britannia  silent  sat  and  gazed 
On  those  grim  warders  of  her  isle, 


Flags  flaunted,  beacons  brightly  blazed ! 

Responsive  then  to  Punch' t  smile, 
"  All  s  well,"  she  cried,  "  old  Mend,  whilst  we 
Are  '  compaw'd  by  the  inviolate  Ma.'  " 


306 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  19,  1897. 


PAST    AND    PRESENT. 

A    SPORTSMAN'S    DIARY    OF    1837. 

"HAD   A  GLORIOUS   DAY'S  SPORT!     BAG  NINE  AND   A   HALF   BRACE. 
BEAUTIFULLY  !     I  BEGIN  TO  LIKE  MY  NEW  PERCUSSION  GUN." 


DOGS    WORKED 


ESSENCE  IOF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  FROM  THE  DIARY  OF  TOBY,  M.P. 

Souse  of  Commons,  Monday,  June  21. — 
House  in  Committee  of  Supply ;  benches 
almost  empty.  CORPORAL  HANBURY  at 
gangway-end,  and  PRINCE  ARTHUR  seated 
nearly  in  the  middle,  are  only  occupants  of 
Treasury  Bench.  After  a  while,  soothed  hy 
monotonous  voice  of  Chairman  putting  vote 
after  vote,  PRINCE  ARTHUR'S  chin  dropped 
on  hia  breast.  He  seemed  to  sleep— no 
strange  thing  in  circumstances.  What 
puzzled  me  as  I  watched  him  (noting,  by 
the  way,  the  streaks  of  grey  beginning  to 
gleam  in  his  dark  hair),  was  the  motion  of 
his  head  and  the  expression  on  his  face. 
Sometimes  he  turned  his  head  to  the  right, 
bending  down  as  if  listening  to  one  seated 
an  inch  or  two  lower  than  himself.  His 
mobile  face  displayed  the  keenest  interest. 
Occasionally  his  lips  moved,  as  if  in 
response  to  an  observation.  Anon,  he 
turned  quickly  to  the  other  side,  and,  his 
head  now  uplifted  from  its  bending  atti- 
tude, seemed  to  listen  with  the  same  air 
of  reverent  attention. 

The  curious  scene  did  not  last  many 
moments.  Not  the  least  weird  part  of  it 
was  the  conviction  borne  in  upon  me  that 
I  had  been  watching  a  conversation  carried 
on  for  at  least  an  hour.  PRINCE  ARTHUR 


assured  me  later  he  had  certainly  been 
talking  to  Lord  JOHN  RUSSELL  and  PAM 
for  over  an  hour.  Yet  I  am  prepared  to 
take  oath  that  the  whole  thing,  which  I 
saw  from  first  to  last,  did  not  occupy  two 
minutes. 

Whilst  it  was  fresh  in  his  mind,  PRINCE 
ARTHUR  told  me  all  about  it.  He  was 
sitting,  as  I  have  said,  watching  the  votes 
piled  up ;  last  thing  he  remembers  was 
the  voice  of  Mr.  LOWTHER  saying,  "The 
question  I  have  to  put  is- ' 

"  Do  you  think  this  is  the  Treasury 
Bench  ?  It  doesn't  look  like  the  same 
shop." 

This  last  was  not  LOWTHER'S  voice,  nor 
was  it  a  continuation  of  the  question  he 
had  been  putting. 

"Of  course  not,"  said  another,  sharper, 
and  more  cheery  voice.  "  The  place  we  sal 
in  this  night  sixty  years  ago,  on  the  eve  ol 
the  accession  of  Her  Gracious  Majesty 
Queen  VICTORIA,  was  a  temporary  building 
run  up  after  the  old  Houses  were  burnec 
down.  It  was  used  pending  the  building 
of  the  palatial  structure  opened  in  the 
Exhibition  year." 

"  The  year  you  were  turned  out,  my 
dear  JOHNNY  ;  when  DERBY  came  in 
bringing  DIZZY  with  him  as  Chancellor  o 
the  Exchequer." 

PRINCE  ARTHUR  knew  who  they  were  a 
once.  The  little  gentleman  with  the  broad 


>rimmed  hat  was  Lord  JOHN  RUSSELL, 
:Iome  Secretary  and  Leader  of  the  House 
of  Commons  in  Lord  MELBOURNE'S  Minis- 
ry,  the  one  which  paid  earliest  homage  to 
Queen  VICTORIA.  The  other  (who,  PRINCE 
ARTHUR  was  surprised  to  see,  didn't  carry 
a.  straw  in  his  mouth)  was  Lord  PALMER- 
STON,  Foreign  Secretary  in  the  same 
Government.  They  seated  themselves  one 
an  each  side  of  PRINCE  ARTHUR,  Lord  JOHN 
lo  the  right,  PAM  to  the  left. 

"  Didn't  you  feel  creepy  ?  "  I  asked  him. 

"Not  a  bit,"  he  said.  "Seemed  most 
natural  thing  in  the  world.  '  Good  evening, 
my  lords,'  I  said.  '  Very  pleased  to  see 
you  in  the  old  place.  Glad,  also,  to  find 
/ou  so  friendly.  Old  scores  forgotten  up 
;here — or,  I  mean,  wherever  you  may 
ihance  to  foregather  ?  '  " 

"  Oh !  yes,"  said  PAM  ;  "  I  long  ago  had 
:it-for-tat  with  JOHNNY  RUSSELL,  and  we 
jear  no  malice.  Thought  we  'd  drop  in  on 
>his  interesting  occasion.  Hope  we  don't 
ntrude.  Were  present,  you  know,  at  first 
Privy  Council  of  the  girl-QuEEN ;  heard 
ler  first  speech  from  the  throne  in  another 
jlace  ;  interesting  to  stroll  round  and  look 
n  on  the  old  shop  sixty  years  after.  Place 
looks  different  from  this  night  sixty  years 
ago.  I  don't  mean  chamber  itself,  that  of 
course ;  but  in  style  of  Members  and 
iLshion  of  dress.  You  Ve  more  young  men 
than  we  had.  If  you  turn  up  the  list  of 
the  House  of  1837,  you'll  see  we  were 
mostly  middle-aged  gentlemen  of  sub- 
stance. 

"  Yes,"  said  JOHNNY  ;  "  and  what  strikes 
me  particularly  is  the  way  you  fellows  sport 
the  moustache.  In  our  time,  only  army 
men,  and  not  all  regiments,  wore  the 
moustache.  If  I  remember  right,  some 
years  after  the  QUEEN  came  to  the  throne, 
only  two  regiments  wore  the  moustache, 
the  Huzzars  and  the  Blues." 

"  Quite  so,"  said  PAM.  "  Your  memory, 
always  wonderful,  has  not  shrivelled  up 
under  normal  circumstances  of  extreme 
heat.  Ahem !  I  mean  you  are  still  as 
smart  as  when  you  fomented  that  row 
about  my  saying  a  friendly  word  to  the 
Prince  President  after  the  coup  d'etat." 

PRINCE  ARTHUR  thought  he  detected  a 
sneering  tone  in  this  remark.  Lord  JOHN 
took  no  notice. 

"I  am  much  obleeged  to  you,"  he  said, 
with  courteous  inclination  of  his  head.  "  I 
certainly  remember  a  scene  in  the  HOUSP 
just  fifty  years  ago.  There  was  there  a 
member  of  O'CONNELL'S  party,  one  Alder- 
man REYNOLDS.  He  represented  the  city 
of  Dublin.  An  Orange  Member  who  wore 
a  heavy  pair  of  moustachios,  having  made 
a  violent  attack  on  the  Repealers,  Alder- 
man REYNOLDS  rose  to  reply.  In  course  of 
his  speech  he  constantly  alluded  to  the 
Orangeman  as  '  the  hon.  and  gallant  Mem- 
ber.' '  I  am  not  in  the  army,'  interrupted 
the  Orangeman.  'The  hon.  Member  says 
ha  is  not  in  the  army,'  responded  the 
alderman,  'but  I  think  if  he  has  quitted 
the  trade  he  ought  to  take  down  the  sign- 
board,' and  here  the  alderman  swept  from 
his  upper  lip  an  imaginary  moustache." 

"  Ha !  ha  1 "  laughed  PAM,  in  his  cheery 
way.  "  I  suppose  my  PRINCE  knows  no 
personal  remarks  of  that  kind  in  his  multi- 
reformed  Parliaments ;  no  shaking  of 
fists  across  the  table,  no  Members  sus- 
pended for  disorderly  conduct,  no  free 
fights  on  the  floor  of  the  House,  eh  ?  " 

A  blush  mantled  ARTHUR'S  ingenuous 
face.  This  must  have  been  the  moment 
when  I  observed  him  hanging  his  head. 

"Tut,  tut !  "  said  Lord  JOHN.  "Human 
nature  's  the  same  at  all  epochs.  House  o) 


JUNE  19,  18J7.J 


<>!;    THE    LONDON     ( '!IAI!I\  AIM. 


307 


Commons,    the    n  '•'    mil  IOCUMM   of 

human  nature,  varies  little  throuiili  the 
ages.  Nor  lines  tin-  telldeney  to  land 
earlier  time-,  H  compared  with  I  he  picscnt . 
I  suppose,  now,  you've  lots  oi  superior  ola 

gentlemen,  who  pi  litest  tll.lt  your  I  { fills**  ol 
Commons  tn-day  is  a  ragged  assembly 
eomparecl  with  what  it.  was  sixty  or 
seventy  years  ago!*  I  ean  imagine  one  of 
these  writing,  'The  new  Parliament  ccn- 
sists  of  more  editors  of  papers,  shop- 
keepers, ohsfiire  hamsters,  and  attorneys 
than  any  former  Parliament.  Holland  and 
Portugal  might  disappear  from  the  world 
without  exciting  the  feelings  ,,r  care  -jf  a 
simile  shopkeeper  or  attorney  amongst 
us.' " 

"  I  hoard  something  at  the  Carlton  the 
other  day  very  like  that,"  said  PRINCE 
ARTHUR.  "Only  there  was  nothing  said 
about  Holland  and  Portugal.  It  was  tin- 
Cape  and  Constantinople  that  troubled 
the  patriotic  mind.  Cropping  up  in  our 
foreign  politics  of  to-day  there  is  about 
mention  of  Holland  and  Portugal  a  smell 
as  of  faded  apples." 

"Precisely.  You've  just  hit  it.  The 
passage  I  quote:!  is  frtm  a  letter  by  SCAR- 
LETT, afterwards  Lord  AHINOER.  I  remem- 
ber it  as  if  it  were  yesterday,  thougn  it 
was  dated  February  11.  1832.  At 
that  time,  Holland  and  Portugal  were 
troubling  the  waters  of  foreign  politics. 
But  there's  always  something  for  what 
believe  you  call  the  Jingo  to  get  in  a 
fluster  about.  There  's  nothing  new  under 
the  sun,  certainly  not  the  Jingo.  PAM 
was  the  primest  Jingo  of  the  century ; 
weren't  you,  dear  boy  ?  " 

"  Yes ;    and  a  nice  time  I  had  with  you 

and   Prince    A T,"  murmured   PAM.    a 

look  of  melancholy  momentarily  clouding 
the  place  where  his  brow  used  to  be. 
"  After  all,  many  things  are  new  :n  this 
place,"  he  added,  after  an  awkward  pause. 
"Your  closure,  your  twelve  o'clock  rule, 
your  long  contributions  to  debate  by  in- 
considerable Members,  your  tea  on  the 
Terrace,  your  private  rooms  for  Ministers, 
your  objection  to  adjourn  over  the  Derby, 
your  electric  lights,  your  signal  from  the 
Clock  Tower,  your  national  expenditure  of 
over  a  hundred  millions,  and,  more  marvel- 
lous still,  your  income  in  excess  of  that 
fabulous  sum.  All  these  are  new  since  the 
June  afternoon  when  JOHNNY  and  I  sat  on 
the  bench  corresponding  with  Jiis  in  the 
temporary  House  of  Commons,  knowing 
tl'at  in  the  early  morning  WILLIAM  THE 
FOURTH  had  passed  away,  and  that  we 
were  now  the  Ministers  of  a  Queen." 

"  There  are,"  PRINCE  ARTHUR  observed, 
"some  other  novelties  in  the  situation  as 
compared  with  the  epoch  you  recall.  How 
would  you  like " 

PRINCE  ARTHUR  turned  to  put  a  ques- 
tion to  Lord  JOHN,  and  found  the  space  he 
had  occupied  emnty.  There  was  nothinp 
between  him  and  the  portly  figure  of 
CORPORAL  HANBFRY.  Turning  his  head 
quickly,  he  found  that  PAM  also  had  van- 
ished, leaving  not  a  straw  behind.  He 
rubbed  his  eyes.  There  was  Mr.  LOWTHER 
in  the  Chair,  at  the  moment  remarking, 
"The  question  is  that  a  sum  not  exceeding 
£320.000  be  granted  to  HER  MAJESTY  to 
meet  the  charges  arising  out  of — 

"  Why."  cried  PniNrs  ARTHVR,  looking 
round,  decidedly  dazed,  "he  was  saying 
that  when  THEY  came  in!" 

limn'. — Strangers  in  the  House. 


A  DRUCE  OF  A  PLAYER. — The  captain  of 
the  Cambridge  University  Cricket  Club. 


PAST    AND    PRESENT. 

A    SPORTSMAN'S    DIAEY    OF    1897. 

"SPORT  FAIR  TO-DAY.       BAG    THREE    HUNDRED    BllACK.      MY   NEW   PAIR  O»   HAMUEKLX88 

EJECTORS  SHOT  WELL.    SHOULD  HAVE  DONE  BETTER  ir  I  HAD  HAD  A  THIRD  Guv." 


MR.  PUNCH'S  DRAMATIC   DREAM. 

(Continued.) 

"I  WAS  coming  to  the  front  in  1837," 
said  JOHN  BALDWIN  BCCKSTONE.  "  I  wrote 
and  played  for  a  quarter  of  a  century." 

"You  did,"  acquiesced  BENJAMIN  WEB- 
STER. "I  was  lessee  of  the  Haymarket  in 
the  forties,  and  you  took  my  lease  <>f  the 
little  house  afterwards.  Don't  yon  remem- 
ber, Mr.  Punch,  that  I  offered  a  prize  for 
the  best  comedy,  and  one  of  your  staff 
gave  a  series  of  scenes  from  the  rejected 
competing  compositions  P  " 

"To  be  sure.  And  the  collection  in- 
cluded TALFOURD,  BULWEB  LYTTON,  and 
FITZBALL." 

"The  last  was  my  rival  with  the  books 
of  the  operas,"  put  in  Mr.  BUNN.  "You 
used  to  chaff  me,  Sir,  but  so  you  did 
everybody,  inclusive  of  that  poor  little 
foreigner  chap,  Monsieur  JUI.I.IKS." 

"  He  was  a  foreigner,"  put  in  BALFE, 
''but  he  could  appreciate  native  talent, 
such  as  that  possessed  by  Miss  ROMER,  who 
was  playing  in  my  Catherine  Grey,  not  to 
speak  of  my  contemporaries  of  later  days, 
LOUISA  PYNE  and  WILLIAM  HARBISON." 


"Yon  were  rather  hard  upon  me.  Mr. 
Punch,"  said  CHARLES  KEA.N,  "  but  I  bear 
no  malice.  I  did  my  best,  although  I  gave 
you  the  impression  that  all  the  characters 
I  created  suffered  from  a  cold  in  the  bead." 

"My  good  CHARLES,  I  am  delighted  to 
see  you,"  cried  the  Sage,  cordially.  "And 
you,  too,  CHARLES  the  younger,  son  of  the 
elder  MATHEWS.  KEAN,  you  regenerated 
the  poetical  drama,  and  CHARLEY,  you 
i  taught  us  light  comedy." 

"I  was  in  that  line  myself,"  observed 
;  LEIGH  MURRAY.  "Do  you  remember  The 
Camp  at  Chobham,  with  KEELEY  ?  " 

"Ah,  now  we  have  taken  a  jump  into 
the  Crimean  days,  when  Miss  WOULGAB 
and  Madame  CELESTE  were  at  the 
Adelphi." 

"I  believe  TOU,  my  boy,"  drawled  PAUL 
BEDFORD.  "I  played  up  to  WRIGHT." 

"  And  JOHN  LAURENCE  TOOLS,"  said  Mr. 
Punch,  "who  is  still  happily  amongst  us." 

"  HEARTS  "  THAT  ARE  OFTEN  BOUGHXD 
DOWN. — The  cherries  of  Kent. 

HOT  COPPERS. — Perspiring  policemen  on 
I  Jubilee  Day. 


308 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  19,  1897. 


ELEGANCE — 1837. 


ROTTEN    ROW. 


EASE— 1897. 


EXTREMES    MEET; 

OK,  SOME  VICTORIAN  CONTRASTS. 

II. 

SCENE — A  London  Street  (designed,  arranged,  and  executed  by  Mr. 
Punch).  CHARACTERS — Street-boy,  early  Victorian:  battend  tall 
hat,  comforter,  short  jacket,  and  shorter  white  duck  trousers  ;  Street- 
boy,  late  Victorian. 

Early  Victorian  Boy.  Veil,  but  I  say,  vill  it  come  along  this 
'ere  we  cry  road? 

Late  V.  B.  Yussl  yn't  I  a  tellin'  of  yer?  Tork  abart  a 
bloomin'  mug,  you  tike  the  kike,  strite  yer  do ! 

Early  V.  B.  But  vot  "11  it  be  like  ven  it  does  come  along  ? 

Late  V.  B.  What  '11  it  be  loike  ?  \Vhoy,  loike  a  Jubilee,  o' 
course,  yer  fat  'ed  I 

Early  V.  B.  But  vot  is  a  Jubilee — sort  of  Jack-in-the-Green  ? 

Late  B.  V.  A  Jeck-in-the-Green I  Na-ow!  There'll  be  a 
bloomin'  percession,  wiv  the  QUEEN  in  'er  kerridge,  and  all  the 
ryal  blokes  on  'orses,  an'  sojers,  and  sich. 

Early  V.  B.  Crikey  I  And  vill  the  QUEEN  be  a  vearin'  or 
'olding  of  it  ? 

Late  F.  B.  Wearin'  o'  what?  D'yer  mean  a  topper,  sime  as 
what  you  Ve  got  on  your  crumpet  ? 

Early  F '.  B.  I  never  said  nothink  about  no  topper,  nor  yet 
crumpets.  I  mean  this  'ere  Jubilee  Dimond. 

Late  V.  B.  Oo  're  yer  gittin'  at  ?  There  yn't  no  Jubilee 
doimond,  it's  a  Doimond  Jubilee. 

Early  V.  B.  Veil,  it 's  made  o'  dimonds,  ain't  it  ? 

Late  V.  B.  Na-ow!     It  yn't  mide  outer  nuffink. 

Early  V.  B.  Then  vot  do  coves  go  and  call  it  a  Dimond 
Jubilee  for?  Come,  now! 

Late  V.  B.  What  do  they? — Whoy,  it's  pline  enough,  yn't 

it  ?  They  call  it  a  Doimond  Jubilee  becos Well,  there, 

you  wanter  know  too  much,  you,  do,  with  yer  ''veils,"  and  yer 
"  vots,"  and  yer  "  vys,"  loike  a  bloomin'  'Oundsditch  sheeny ! 
I  cawn't  mike  out  whart  yer  syin'  of  arf  the  toime.  Whoy  cawn't 
yer  pernounce  sime  as  what  others  do  ? 

Early  V.  B.  It  ain't  my  fault  if  I  haven't  had  your  ht-ddica- 
tion,  is  it  ? 


Late  V.  B.  Well,  there  's  suthink  in  that.  Them  Board  School 
blokes  yn't  arf  as  sharp  in  some  plices  as  what  they  are  in  others. 
I  've  'ad  to  gow  regler,  I  'ave. 


A  SONG  IMPEEIAL.     1897. 

STAND  up  England,  land  of  toil  and  duty, 

In  your  smoking  cities,  in  your  hamlets  green ; 

Stand  up  England,  land  of  love  and  beauty, 
Stand  up,  shout  out,  God  save  the  QUEEN  ! 

Stand  up  Scotland,  up  Wales  and  Ireland, 

Loyal  to  her  royalty,  crowd  upon  the  scene  ; 
Stand  up,  all  of  us,  we  who  are  the  sire-land, 

Stand  up,  shout  out,  God  save  the  QUEEN  ! 

Stand  up  ye  Colonies,  the  joy-cry  reaches  you, 

Near  lands,  far  lands,  lands  that  lie  between ; 
Where  the  sun  bronzes  you,  where  the  frost  bleaches  you, 

Stand  up,  shout  out,  God  save  the  QUEEN! 

Stand  up  all!     Yes,  princes,  nobles,  peoples, 

All  the  mighty  Empire — mightier  ne'er  hath  been ; 

Boom  from  all  your  decks  and  towers,  clang  from  all  your  steeples 
God  save  VICTORIA,  God  save  the  QUEEN  I 

Why  not?     Has  she  not  ever  loved  and  served  us, 

Royal  to  us,  loyal  to  us,  gracious  ever  been  ? 
Ne'er  in  peace  betrayed  us,  ne'er  in  war  unnerv'd  us  ; 

Up,  then,  shout  out,  God  save  the  QUEEN! 
But  now  our  sun  descends,  from  the  zenith  westward, 

Westward  and  downward,  of  all  mortals  seen  ; 
Yet  may  the  long  day  lengthen,  though  the  fall  be  rest-ward, 

May  we  long  together  cry,  God  save  the  QUEEN  ! 
When  in  the  coming  time,  'neath  the  dim  ocean  line, 

Our  dear  sun  shall  sink  in  the  wave  serene. 
Tears  will  fill  these  eyes  of  mine,  tears  will  fill  those  eyes  of  thine, 

Lowly  kneeling,  all  will  pray,  God  save  the  QUEEN  I 


"  HE  is  not  exactly  an  infidel,  nor  a  deist,"  observed  a  Mrs. 
alaprop  of  our  time  ;  "  they  tell  me  he  is  an  Acrostic." 


JUNK  19,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    (XR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


30J 


anpg 

1897. 


310 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNK  19, 


1854. 


EXTREMES    MEET; 

OR,  SOME  VICTORIAN  CONTRASTS. 
HI. 

SCENE — The  Sea-shore  (from  sketches  made  by  Mr.  Punch).  CHARAC- 
TERS— Miss  FLORA,  tempore  LEECH  :  mushroom  hat,  hair  in  a  net, 
zouave  jacket,  and  crinoline  ;  Miss  BLOOMER,  same  period :  Spanish 
hut,  jacket,  white  waistcoat,  short  skirt  and  frilled  pantalettes; 
Miss  LATCHKEY,  present  date :  divided  skirts,  straw  fiat,  tweed  coat, 
man's  shirt,  collar  and  tie. 

Miss  Flora.  I  know  you  '11  say  I  'm  a  silly  little  thing,  but  I 
don't  want  the  men  to  think  me  a  fright. 

Miss  Bloomer.  All  sensible  men,  my  dear,  consider  the  Bloomer 
costume  most  becoming.  It 's  only  that  stupid  old  Punch  that 
tries  to  hold  it  up  to  ridicule. 

Miss  Latchkey.  Why  should  you  care  what  men  think  of  you  ? 
Surely,  surely  a  woman  has  some  higher  object  than  to  make 
herself  the  pet  and  plaything  of  those  selfish  tyrants.  She  has 
her  work  to  do  in  the  world. 

Miss  Flora.  I  do  work  hard,  at  my  piano  and  harp,  and  I 
make  bead  mats  and  wax  flowers,  and  oh,  luts  of  things. 

Miss  Bloomer.  And  I  have  laboured  incessantly  to  prove  to 
these  so-called  "  Lords  of  Creation  "  that  their  most  distinctive 
articles  of  attire  are  even  better  adapted  to  the  feminine  figure 
than  to  their  own. 

Miss  Latchkey.  You  neither  of  you  understand!  Don't  you 
see  that  all  your  pretty  accomplishments,  all  your  eccentricities 
of  costume  are  alike  directed  to  the  slavish  end  of  making  your- 
selves more  attractive  to  the  eye  of  man  ?  I  have  got  far  beyond 
that.  I  ignore  man's  very  existence — except  as  a  comrade  and 
rival,  to  be  met  and  crushed  in  the  struggle  for  existence.  I 
assert  the  woman's  right  to  live  her  own  fife  in  dignified  inde- 
pendence. 

Miss  Flora.  La,  dear,  and  how  do  you  manage  it  ? 

Miss  Latchkey.  Very  easily.  I  share  a  tiny  flat  with  another 
girl,  and  live  on  tinned  lobster  and  marmalade  and  tea,  which  is 
better  than  vegetating  in  the  stifling  atmosphere  of  the  domestic 
circle  Besides,  I  have  the  support  of  knowing  that  I  am  doing 
good  and  useful  work. 

Miss  Bloomer.  Might  I  inquire  what  work  ? 

Miss  Latchkey.  Certainly.  I  am  on  the  staff  of  "Chiffons," 
and  do  the  fashionable  weddings  and  parties,  and  describe  the 
frocks  and  so  on.  Sometimes  I  get  a  minor  celebrity  to  inter- 
view— a  woman,  of  course.  The  pay  isn't  much,  but  anything 
is  better  than  the  degrading  role  of  ministering  to  the  vanity  of 
the  other  sex ! 

Miss  Bloomer.  So  far  as  I  can  understand,  your  present 
mission,  my  dear,  is  to  minister  to  the  vanity  of  your  own  sex, 
which  is  undoubtedly  a  far  higher  and  nobler  occupation. 

Miss  Flora.  It  must  be  very  nice,  and  I  'm  sure  it 'a  quite  as 
ladylike  as  doing  wool-work.  I  shall  try  and  coax  dear  Pupa  to 
let  me  take  it  up.  [Speechless  disgust  of  Miss  LATCHKEY. 


ME.  PUNCH'S  DRAMATIC  DREAM. 

(Concluded.) 

"  AH,  what  memories  are  conjured  up  when  we  speak  of  the 
Adelphi,"  said  BEN  WEBSTER.  "  There  were  the  Green  Bushes  and 
the  Colleen  Baion." 

"  Myself  in  that  same,"  cried  DION  BOUCICAULT,  with  a  taste 
of  a  brogue. 

"  And  don't  forget  myself — in  the  Peep  o'  Day,"  murmured 
EDMUND  FALCONER. 

"It  had  a  plot  that  no  fella  could  understand,"  stammered 
Lord  DUNDREARY  SOTHERN. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,"  said  Mr.  Punch.  "  Your  David  Garrick 
has  a  worthy  representative  at  the  Criterion." 

"  Pray  don't  forget  the  merry  companies  at  the  Strand,  the 
Royalty,  and  the  old  Prince  of  Wales,"  said  Mr.  JOHN  CLARK. 
"  There  were  PATTIE  OLIVER,  CHARLOTTE  SAUNDERS,  ROGERS, 
JAMES,  and  a  lady  and  gentleman  who  since  have  become  as 
famous  in  comedy  as  burlesque." 

"  JOHNNIE  HARE  and  Mrs.  BANCROFT,"  acquiesced  Mr.  Punch, 
"are  both  still  amongst  us." 

"  Your  merry  men  kept  the  drama  on  its  legs  for  the  greater 
part  of  the  naif-oentury,"  observed  Mr.  E.  T.  SMITH,  who,  like 
Sir  AUGUSTUS  HARRIS,  had  been  both  lessee  of  Drury  Lane  and 
proprietor  of  the  Sunday  Times. 

"  You  are  very  good  to  say  so,"  returned  the  Sage,  politely. 
"  And  when  I  think  of  those  of  my  staff  already  mentioned,  and 
add  to  their  names  those  of  LEMON,  SHIRLEY  BROOKS,  TOM 
TAYLOR,  and  BURNAND,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  you." 

And  then  Mr.  Punch  turned  to  greet  fresh  arrivals.  CHARLES 
FECHTER  (claiming  to  be  an  Englishman),  BANDMANN  (refusing 
to  be  a  German),  JEFFERSON  (admitting  his  American  citizen, 
ship),  TOM  ROBERTSON,  PHELPS,  H.  J.  BYRON,  ROBSON,  EMERY, 
WIDDICOMB,  CRESWIOK,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  FRANK  MATTHEWS,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  ALFRED  WIGAN,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  CHIPPENDALE,  COMPTON. 
CLAYTON,  and  a  score  of  others,  recalling  to  his  mind  the  hopes 
and  fears,  the  triumphs  and  failures  of  half  a  century. 

And  as  Mr.  Punch  rose  to  greet  them  he  suddenly  awoke,  and 
attended  to  the  performance  on  the  stage  for  the  remainder  of 
the  evening. 

MESSRS.  Compiler  RYLAND  and  Publisher  ALLEN  might  have 
made  a  better  use  of  their  own  idea  than  they  have  done  in  their 
small  book,  entitled,  Events  of  the  Reipn  from  '37  to  '97,  which, 
in  a  general  way,  will  be  found  an  aid  to  memory.  Herein  is 
of  course  recorded  the  principal  event  of  the  century,  to  which 
it  was  impossible  for  our  blushing  "  TOBY,  M.P."  to  allude  in  his 
admirably-arranged  volume  recently  published,  entitled,  The 
Queen  and  Mr.  Punch,  which  has  already  achieved  world-wide 
renown,  yclept  the  issue  of  "  The  First  Number  of  PUNCH, 
July  17,"  a  day  ever  memorable  in  the  glorious  annals  of  our 
country. 


JUNK   I!),   1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


312 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVAEI. 


19,  1897. 


\f#-^     \ 

/  \ 

'  OHARLES   KEENESQUE  CROQUET  PERIOD.    1866. 


"JUST     THINK     OP     IT,    Ml     BOY.      IN     THOSE     DAYS    WE 

ELECTEIC  LIGHT,  NO  X  RAYS    NO  CINEMATOGRAPH,  NO  - 
'  '  MUZZLING  ORDER  !  " 


NO 


"AYE,  THERE  "AVE  BEEN  A  SIGHT  o'  CHANGES  IN  THESE  I'ERE 
SIXTY  YEAR  ;  BUT,  BLESS  'EE,  A  PINT  POT  DON'T  "OLD  NO  MORE 
NOW  THAN  IT  DID  THEN  !  " 


4^/P 
EARLY  DU  MAURIERESQUE  CRINOLINE  PERIOD.    1860. 


JUNE  19,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


313 


'II, 


314 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  19,  1897. 


THE    BANNER    AND    THE    BEACON. 


IT  was  about  the  lovely  close  of  a  warm  day  in  June, 

Sweet  bells,  loud  trumpets,  all  that  day  had  played  most  joyous  tune ; 

Night  sank  upon  the  dusky  beach,  and  on  the  purple  sea, 

Such  night  as  .England  ne'er  had  seen,  nor  e'er  again  shall  see. 


And  now,  to  greet  the  Jubilee  night  of  our  glad  sea-girt  isle, 
At  earliest  twilight  beacon-piles  lay  waiting  many  a  mile. 
Far  on  the  deep  the  sailor  sees,  along  each  shore  and  shire, 
Cape  beyond  cape,  in  endless  range,  those  twinkling  points  of  fire  ! 


26,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


319 


THE    PENALTY    OF    GREATNESS. 

Olivia.  "Op  COURSE  YOU  WENT  TO  THE  JUBILEE,  MR.  DUDELEYT" 
Mr.  DudeUy.    "  'BLIGED   TO,    DON'TCHBRKNOW.      KNEW  ALL  THE 
PEOPLE  IN  THE  PROCESSION  !  " 


SOMETHING    LIKE    A   FESTIVAL! 

THE  Crystal  Palace,  with  a  HANDEL  to  its  name — an  anticipated 
honour  at  Jubilee  time-^-achieved  a  great  success  last  week. 
What  selection  on  Selection  Day  could  have  been  more  select 
than  Mesdames  ALBANI,  ELLA  RUSSELL,  and  NOBDICA,  with  a 
couple  of  tenors,  LLOYD  and  McGucKiN,  our  "  Chart  ey-is-my- 
darling  SANTLEY,"  and  the  BLACK,  not  a  bit  off  colour?  Then 
last,  but  not  by  any  means  least,  Miss  CLARA  BUTT,  whose  very 
name  is  so  suggestive  of  a  voice  clear  and  full.  "  Butt  me  no 
Butts,"  except  this  one,  and  she  is  magnificent.  The  Crystal 
Palace  ought  to  do  a  good  business  with  all  our  Colonials  and 
visitors  from  many  lands  during  this  Jubilee  fortnight.  Lots  of 
"  Brocken  "  Nights,  and  splendid  fireworks. 


Cursory   Rhyme. 
(By  an  Expectant  Lover  of  Cricket.) 

BATTER  wake,  batter  wake!    Cricketer  man, 
Make  a  big  score  as  fast  as  you  can ! 
Cut  it,  and  drive,  mark  it  "  W.  G.," 
And  put  it  in  print  for  the  public  to  see ! 


On    the    Cards. 

[It  has  been  complained,  that  in  the  preparation  for  the  great  Jubilee 
Pageant,  Labour,  save  in  the  crush  of  the  streets,  had  hardly  a  "  look  in."] 

THE  QUEEN  of  Hearts,  on  her  Diamond  Day, 
Will  smile  on  her  subjects,  and  make  them  feel  gay. 
Clubs,  too,  will  flourish,  but  Toil,  I  "m  afraid, 
Will  find  small  provision  is  made  for  the  Spade  ! 


SIXTY  YEARS  AGO. 

"A  GRANDMOTHER"  ON  Two  GREAT  DAYI. 

(A  long  way  after  the  late  Laureate.) 

SIXTY  years  ago,  my  darling,  sixty  years  ago ! 

My  hair  was  as  dark  as  your  own,  little  ANNIE,  though  new  it  is 

white  as  snow. 
King  WILLY  (lie  Sailor-King,  had  died  on  the  twentieth  day  of 

June. 
Methinks  I  can  hear  the  bells  a-tolling  their  solemn  and  sorrowful 

tune  I 

And  /  was  a  girl,  like  the  sweet  young  QUEEN,  who  on  that  day 
came  to  the  Crown. 

"Sweet  seventeen!"  said  your  grandfather  then,  and  my  hair 
was  shiny  and  brown, 

Banded  in  formal  bands,  little  ANNM,  drawn  over  each  ring- 
pierced  ear. 

Ah !  the  fashions  then  we  thought  fine,  though  now  you  might 
fancy  them  quaint  and  queer. 

Early  Victorian  style,  little.  ANNIE,  the  modern  critics  may  mock. 
But)  I  was  as  proud  of  my  big  poke-bonnet  and  prim  short-waisted 

frock 
As  a  modern  girl  of  her  tailor-made  dress  and  her  hat  like  a 

garden-bed. 
The  boys  who  besieged  my  heart,  little  ANNM,  cared  not  what  I 

wore  on  my  head. 

Early  Victorian  style!  Ah,  well,  it  was  stodgy,  and  stiff,  and 
strange, 

And  sixty  years  in  our  fashions  and  tastes  have  witnessed  a  won- 
drous change. 

The  horse-hair  sofa  on  which  I  sat  when  your  grandfather  came 
to  woo, 

I  remember  well ;  and  the  wall-paper,  too,  with  its  pattern  of 
crimson  and  blue. 

But  manhood  was  manhood,  and  love  was  love,  pVn  in  Eighteen- 

thirty-seven, 
And  that  stiff,  quaint  room  in  the  twilight  gloom  was  an  Early 

Victorian,  heaven 
To  two  young  hearts,  on  that  summer  eve  as  the  summer  sun 

sank  low, 
Sixty  years  ago,  my  darling,  sixty  years  ago! 

How  well  I  remember  my  first  glad  glance  at  our  gentle,  girlish 

QUEEN 
At  her  palace-window.     She  seemed  half  shy,  half  shamed  that 

her  tears  were  seen, 

Yet  stately,  too,  in  her  girlish  style,  for  then,  as  at  this  late  day, 
Queendom  and  womanhood  mingled  in  her ;  at  least,  so  the  wise 

ones  say. 

And  so  I  think ;  though  she  well  might  shrink.     Such  a  burden 

for  one  so  young ! 
But  the  weight  of  a  crown  hath  not  bowed  her  down.     She  'd  a 

spirit  that  ever  sprung 
Like  young  wheat  after  the  beating  shower,  so  slight,  but  erect 

and. proud. 
And  now,  on  her  Diamond  Jubilee  Day,  I  would  fain  make  one 

of  the  crowd. 

That  may  not  be,  little  A  N  MK  ;   but  still,  in  my  lonely  waiting 

here 
To  rejoin  the  friends  of  that  early  time,  who  have  left  me  many 

a  year, 
I  can  raise  my  prayer.     And  there  's  many  an  old  heart,  lone, 

unknown,  unseen, 
Will  join  to-day  in  its  quiet  way  in  th«  cry,   "God  save  the 

QUBRN!" 

Early  Victorian!    Ah,  my  child,  art-critics  may  sneer  and  slate, 
But  the  heart  hath  its  fashions  that  do  not  change,  be  it  early, 

or  be  it  late  ; 

And  a  bosom  wearing  a  dowdy  dress  with  as  loyal  love  could  glow, 
Sixty  years  ago,  ANNIB,  sixty  years  ago! 

Yes,  mine  is  a  time  of  peace,  my  child  ;   I  have  little  left  to 

grieve  ; 
And  so  may  it  be  with  our  Gracious  QUBBN  !     May  fbe,  too,  have 

Light  at  Eve ! 

And  when  all  the  jubilant  shoutings  of  this  Jubilee  Day  shall  cease, 
May  the  crown  of  all  this  glorious  time  be  the  boon  of  blessed 

Peace  I  

THE  PLACE  FOB  DYNAMITING  ANARCHISTS   TO   BE   IMPRI- 
SONED FOR  LIFE. — Bomb-ay. 


VOL.    CXII. 


E  E 


320 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  26,  1897. 


A    QUICK    CHANGE. 

Miss  Jubilee.  "\\TE  HAD  A  KARK  GOOD  TIMB  IN  LONDON,  AND  NOW  I  'M  OFF  FOE  A  'WHIFF  OF  THE  BRINY*  AT  THE 

NAVAL  REVIEW  I " 


JUNK  26,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


321 


THE    PERILS    OF    CYCLING. 

(A  sketch  in  Batter  sea.  Park.) 
Angelina.   "Conic  ALONO,  DEAR  !  " 


OUR  CONVERSATION-BOOK. 

Some  Idiomatic  Questions  and  Probable  Answers.     For  the  Use  of 
Intelligent  and  Polite  Foreigners  during  the  Celebrations. 

To  a  Hull n; i a  Porter,  on  arriving  at  Charing  Cross. — Pardon 
me,  Sir,  but  would  you  be  good  enough  to  indicate  to  me  where 
I  may  possibly  find  my  luggage  ?  I  have  two  travelling  trunks, 
five  portmanteaux,  one  hold-all,  one  bicycle,  one  hat^box,  one 
bassinette,  one  perambulator  (as  the  case  may  be).  You  will  do 
me  a  thousand  favours  if  you  will  kindly  spare  me  a  moment. 

Very  sorry,  but  I  can't  stop.  We  're  short-'anded  this  morning. 

Wait  a  moment,  I  beg  of  you.  Would  you  oblige  me  by  ac- 
cepting this  trifling  present  of  five  (ten,  fifteen)  shillings  ? 

Thanky,  Sir.  P'raps  I  can  'elp  you  for  'arf  a  minit.  You 
come  along  with  me. 

Dear  me,  what  a  crowd  I  Excuse  me,  Sir,  but  you  are  treading 
on  my  toes!  No,  I  do  not  see  my  baggage  anywhere.  How 
annoying ! 

Dessay  it  will  turn  up  somewheres  next  week.  Must  be  orf, 
now ! 

To  a  Policeman,  outside. — Good  morning,  Sir.  I  am  anxious  to 
pay  a  visit  at  my  friend's  town-house  in  Soho  (Leicester  Square 
Tottenham  Court  Road).  Can  you  direct  me  thither? 

Yes,  Mounseer.  Take  the  train  back  to  Dover,  go  over  to 
Ostend,  then  you  cross  to  Harwich,  and  nrsk  for  an  excursion 
ticket  to  Birmingham,  Oxford,  and  Paddington.  That's  the 
only  wav  you  can  git  through  this  crowd. 

.it  a  Cabman's  Shelter. — Good  afternoon.  I  hope  I  do  not  dis- 
turb you.  Sir,  but  I  have  been  waiting  here  two  (three  or  four) 
hours.  Could  you  tell  me  if  there  is  a  likelihood  of  your  being 
disengaged  to-day  ?  I  trust  you  will  not  charge  by  the  hour  for 
the  time  I  have  been  standing  here  ? 

Look  'ere,  JIM,  'ere 's  a  blooming  furriner  expecs  me  to  put 
'im  dahn  on  my  waitin'  list  for  nothing!  Go  'ome  and  eat  coke  1 

At  a  wayside  Coffee-stall. — Madame,  I  have  the  distinguished 


honour  to  present  you  my  compliments.  It  is  now  half-past  six, 
and  I  have  been  unable  to  obtain  any  refreshment  since  I  arrived 
in  England  this  morning.  Could  you  favour  me  with  a  slight 
repast? 

Certingly.  Will  you  'ave  whilks — there  's  three  left — 'arf- 
crown  apiece,  or  would  you  like  cawfy  rinsins,  three-and-six- 
pence  a  cup  ? 

SomeiDhere  in  the  Remote  Suburbs,  10  P.M. — I  beg  your  pardon, 
Ma'am.  Pray  do  not  shut  the  door  in  my  face  I  I  have  been  on 
foot  for  thirteen  hours,  and  have  not  yet  arrived  anywhere  at  all. 
No,  I  am  not  a  burglar  in  disguise,  nor  a  tramp,  though  my  hat 
has  been  smashed,  my  coat  is  torn,  and  I  have  only  one  boot 
left.  Here  is  my  card  (my  passport,  my  acte  de  naissance).  I 
cannot  find  Soho  nor  Leicesteraquare,  and  am  unable  to  walk  a 
step  further.  Can  you  afford  me  shelter  for  the  night  ?  I  shall 
be  eternally  grateful  to  you. 

There  are  no  lodgings  to  be  'ad  nearer  than  Barnet  or  Biggies- 
wade.  Lawkamussy,  whatever  made  you  come  over  to  London 
on  a  day  like  this  ?  Gnnd  night ! 


Familiar  Line  from   Gibber -Shakspeare's 
Richard  the  Third. 

(Adapted  to  the  Present  Time  and  Fashion.) 

Irritable  Sight-seer  (whose  view  is  Mocked  by  a  lady's  hat), 
with  her  ....  hat !    So  much  ..." 

[Gives  the  necetsary  directions. 


Off 


A  Cruel  Toung  Fellow. 

Adolphus  Hardcate  (reading  from  the  money  article  of  the  "  Daily 
Mail "  to  hit  family  at  breakfast).  Hallo  !  here 's  some  news. 
"  Little  Turks  hardened,  Italians  advanced,  Bussians  declined." 

Aunt  Matilda.  Good  heavens  !  Then  war  in  the  East  has 
broken  out  at  last ! 


322 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNK  26,  1897. 


A    NICE    CALCULATION. 

Small  Child.   "MOTHER,  YOU  SAID  IF  I  WAS  GOOD  ALL  THE  AF- 
TERNOON YOU  WOULD    GIVE  ME  A  PENNY.       IF  I  WAS  ONLY  RATHER 

NAUGHTY,  WOULD  YOU  GIVE  ME  A  HALFPENNY  I  " 


OPERATIC  NOTES. 

Monday,  June  14. — Show  me  where,  within  measurable  dis- 
tance of  85,  Fleet  Street,  which  is  the  hub  of  the  universe,  there 
is  to  be  found  a  finer  performance  of  WAGNEB'S  Tristan  und 
Isolde  than  was  given  at  Covent  Garden  on  Monday  night  last, 
and,  by  my  halidome,  gadso,  and  so  forth,  I  will  hie  me  thither 
and  hear  it.  Such  a  performance  as  was  this  on  Monday  would 
almost  persuade  me  to  be  a  Wagnerite.  But  "almost"  is  a  very 
long  way  off,  and  for  my  part  I  cannot  believe  that  with  our 
tune-loving,  barrel-organised  public,  Tristan  und  Isolde,  Gotter- 
dammerung,  and  "  all  the  Wagnerian  lot  of  "em,"  will  ever  be 
genuinely  popular,  as,  for  example,  have  been  the  works  of 
MOZART,  AUBEB,  DONIZETTI,  GOUNOD,  BALFE,  cum  aliis  composi- 
toribus.  And  what  a  trial  for  the  mimetic  powers  of  the  actor- 
singers,  when  they  have  to  express  their  feelings  in  action  for 
the  space  of  some  fifty  bars  of  music!  Their  feelings  would 
probably  be  very  simply  expressed  in  rather  forcible  language 
to  the  librettist  or  to  the  stage  manager.  Had  it  not  been  at  the 
Opera,  where  everyone,  from  topmost  gallery  to  foremost  orches- 
tral stall,  is  on  his  or  her  very  best  superfine  behaviour,  would  Hot 
a  few*  of  the  immortals  up  above  have  "  guy'd "  the  good  old 
familiar  situation,  repeated  ad  nauseam,  of  two  lovers  placing  their 
wobbly  hands  over  their  beating  hearts  to  express  their  over- 
powering passion,  sighing,  advancing  a  few  paces,  pausing,  sigh- 
ing again,  giving  die-away  glances  at  each  other,  meant  to  be 
expression  of  undying  yearning  for  each  other's  love,  but  con- 
veying the  idea  that  both  of  them  are  awfully  bored  by  having 
to  "fill  up  the  time  with  business."  And  then  that  other  part 
of  a  long  "  love  "  scene  (so  totally  different  in  every  sense  from 
the  innocent  boy  and  girlishness  of  Romeo  and  Juliet) ,  where  the 
two  guilty  lovers  remain  on  one  of  "  the  benches  in  the  park," 
locked  more  or  less  in  each  other's  arms,  not  singing  a  note  for 
the  space  of  what  may  be  ten  minutes,  but  which  to  an  Unwag- 
nerian  seems  quite  an  hour  while  the  lady's  maid  '•  without " 
sings,  to  a  harp  accompaniment,  what  to  an  Unwagnerian  must 


seem  the  song  of  the  Opera — is  not  this  most  undramatic,  for 
drama  means  action,  and  it  is  only  with  the  return  of  the  King 
Husband  and  his  friends  that  there  is  any  action  at  all.  Then 
there  is  a,  very  mild  row,  and  a  short,  sharp  encounter  between 
husband's  friend  and  wife's  lover,  in  which  the  latter  comes  off 
second  best,  apparently  to  the  annoyance  of  le  mari  un  peu 
complaisant. 

JEAN  DE  RESZKE  magnificent  in  voice  and  appearance  as  the 
sad  and  spoony  Tristan — plus  triste  'un  quc  jamais — and  Frere 
EDOUARD  excellent  as  the  Heavy  King  MARK — "  quite  up  to  the 
Mark  "  observes  the  man  who  will  have  his  joke  and  somebody 
else's  too. 

Mile.  SEDLMAIR  as  Isolde  ("  as  Is-youmy  "  would  be  more  com- 
plimentary than  "as  Is-olde"),  thoroughly  good,  as  was  Miss 
MARIE  BKEMA,  representing  the  confidential  lady's  maid  con- 
demned to  such  pantomimic  action  as  was  the  "  Confidant "  in 
SHERIDAN'S  Critic. 

Mr.  Classical-Dictionary-PRiNGLE  and  Mr.  DAVID  BISPHAM, 
both  equally  good  as  the  malicious  Melot  and  the  kind  Knrwenal 
respectively.  Hair  SEIDL  energetic  as  conductor,  and  honoured 
with  a  call  on  to  the  stage.  He  came  up  from  the  vasty  deep 
orchestra  when  called,  and  modestly,  in  Wagnerian  pantomime, 
disclaimed  all  share  in  the  honour  done  to  him. 

Summary. — House  crammed  and  brilliant.  Royalties  and 
Diamond  Jubilants  about  everywhere.  Up  goes  the  price  of 
seats. 

Tuesday. — Les  Huguenots,  or  Gli  Ugonotti,  whichever  you  like, 
my  little  dear,  only  not  much  "  glee  "  in  the  "  Ugonotti "  ;  and 
an  odd  substitute  for  the  promised  Nozze  di  Figaro.  Miss  ENGLE 
a  charming  Queen  Margaret  of  Valois,  JUPITER  PLANOON  grand 
as  St.  Bris,  con  brio;  Brother  EDWARD  a  good  strong,  rugged 
Marcello.  Signer  CEPPI  not  much  as  Raoul  di  Nangis,  probably 
annoyed  at  having  the  first  vowel  omitted  from  his  name  in  the 
play-bill,  where  the  character  was  announced  as  "Raul" — which, 
as  Captain  WAQSTAFF  observed,  "  was  raully  too  bad."  MAGGIE 
MACINTYBE  vocally  delightful,  but,  histrionically,  not  quite  "  all 
our  fancy  painted." 

Wednesday.— Die  Walkiire;  or,  Tl\e.  Pedestrians;  Thursday, 
we're  Lohengrinning ;  Friday,  an  encore  of  Tristan,  and  an- 
nouncement of  Tannhauser  to  finish  what  would  have  been  an 
entire  German  Wagnerian  week,  to  some  folk,  dry  as  a  bone,  but 
for  one  draught  of  Meyer-beer  on  Monday. 

By  Royal  Command,  the  Lord  of  HIGH  DE  GREY,  and  the 
Admirable  ARRY  IGGINS,  our  two  Covent  Gardenian  Directors-in- 
Chief,  have  arranged,  with  their  practical  foresight,  or  rather, 
with  their  practical  NEIL  FORSYTH,  a  Grand  Jubiloperatic  Gala 
Night  for  Wednesday,  June  23.  Prosit!  But — how  tired  every- 
one will  be ! !  

THE  SONG  OF  THE  JUBILEE. 

THIS  ia  the  Song  of  the  Jubilee ! 

The  Song  of  the  Air  and  the  Land  and  Sea ! 

The  Song,  that  shall  ring  with  a  heartfelt  glee 

From  the  foam  of  our  home, 

From  the  sand  of  our  strand, 
To  wherever  there  stretches  the  gentle  hand 
Of  the  Mighty  QUEEN,  who  rules  the  Free, 
"  VICTORIA  I    VICTORIA  !  " 

This  is  the  Song  of  the  Jubilee  ! 

From  the  grandfather  down  to  the  babe  on  the  knee  I 

From  the  bird  in  the  cage  to  the  bird  on  the  tree  1 

Hail  it  East,  with  the  West ! 

North  and  South  join  with  zest! 
Wheresoever  our  QUEEN  and  our  Flag  is  blest, 
There  welcome  the  Song  with  your  Three  Times  Three, 
"  VICTORIA  !    VICTORIA  !  " 


Result  of  the  Aggravated  Grandmother's  League. 

Turf  Patron  (to  Bookmaker).  Well,  Mr.  RAILS,  I  see  you've 
been  summoned  again.  I  hope  it  hasn't  done  you  any  harm  I 

Mr.  Rails.  Not  a  bit  of  it !  The  public  always  gathers  round 
an  injured  party ! 


FROM  THE  IRREPRESSIBLE  'evidently  dodging  tlie  Authorities). — 
Q.  What  parish  in  England  is  most  abundantly  provided  with 
clergy?  A.  Kew.  Since  every  dwelling  is  provided  with  a 
Kew-rate.  

CORRECT  DEFINITION  OF  THE  INCOME  IMPOST. — The  Tin  Tax 
always  well  hammered  in. 


JUNK  26,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


323 


TAKING    THE    AIU. 

[".It  ilio'.dty  evtr  cornea  when  cjcliug  uliall  have  hud  its  vogue,  there  in  u 
fair  ixMbibility  that  it  uitiv  be  eucccedeil  by  uu  riiidcmiu  of  ballooning." — 
n,  World.] 

Now  that  the  season  is  in  full  swing,  everybody  in  town  is 
ballooning,  and  an  i-nurincms  number  of  ascents  are  made  froii 
Uyde  Park  every  morning.  But  it  is  surely  necessary  that  the 
authorities  should  take  steps  to  protect  those  who  are  old- 
lasliioiii'd  enough  still  to  walk  or  drive.  At  present  this  <-ai 
only  be  done  with  tho  greatest  peril,  as  the  humble  wayfarer  is 
in  continual  danger  of  being  flattened  by  a  largo  bag  of  sam 
dropped  oai  his  head  from  an  altitude  of  a  few  thousand  feet 
Again,  something  should  be  done  to  prevent  the  repetition  ol 
such  an  accident  as  befell  Lord  COLCHICKEN  the  other  morning 
As  that  aged  nobleman  was  walking  along  Pall  Mall,  the  grapnel 
from  a  descending  balloon,  whose  occupants  were  bound  for  the 
Reform  Club,  caught  in  his  clothes,  and,  owing  to  the  strength 
of  the  wind,  dragged  him  rapidly  through  the  streets.  By  run- 
ning at  top-speed,  his  lordship  avoided  falling,  but  it  was  not 
until  it  had  reached  Kensington  Gardens  that  the  balloon  at 
length  was  brought  to  the  ground,  by  which  time  Lord  COL. 
CHICKEN,  who  is  about  seventy  years  of  age,  wan  eztremely 
exhausted. 

Messrs.  AERONAUT  keep  to  the  fore  as  the  best  balloon-makers, 
and  their  catalogue  reminds  us  that  their  firm  numbers  all  the 
leading  members  of  Society  among  their  customers.  It  is  now 
fashionable  to  have  your  car  painted  in  brilliant  colours,  while 
for  those  whose  means  forbid:  them  to  buy  a  balloon,  Messrs. 
AKKONAUT  manufacture  dainty  parachutes  at  very  moderate 
prices.  Certainly  one's  machine  must  be  made  of  the  best 
quality,  or  a  disastrous  accident  is  sure  to  happen.  Only  the 
other  day  Lady  FLOPKINBON  punctured  her  silk  while  flying  in 
the  park,  owing  to  some  defect  in  its  quality.  Fortunately,  she 
was  immediately  above  the  Serpentine  at  the  moment,  and  so 
escaped  with  nothing  worse  than  a  cold  bath  and  a  great  shock 
to  the  nerves.  __ 

We  are  glad  to  hear  that  Sir  HUBERT  FuzToaiPKiNS  has  been 
restored  to  his  anxious  friends,  who  had  been  much  distressed  by 
his  sudden  disappearance.  It  seems  that  he  had  gone  out  with 
his  balloon  as  usual,  intending  to  fly  down  to  Hurhngham.  Un- 
fortunately the  wind  suddenly  changed,  and  blew  very  strongly, 
carrying  the  involuntary  traveller  to  Iceland  before  he  could 
effect  a  descent,  thereby  causing  him  very  great  inconvenience. 
No  news  has  been  heard  since  last  week  of  the  Countess  of 
BUNKUM'S  picnic  party,  who  started  in  seven  balloons  for  a  trip 
to  Brighton.  They  were  last  sighted  in  the  south  of  France,  and 
it  is  feared  that  they  must  now  be  suffering  from  the  heat,  as  in 
all  probability  they  have  descended  somewhere  in  Central  Africa. 


As  usual,  the  doctors  are  endeavouring  to  persuade  the  public 
that  the  newest  pastime  is  unhealthy  and  even  dangerous.  Theii 
diatribes,  however,  do  not  seem  to  receive  much  attention,  tc 
judge  from  the  number  of  balloons  which  daily  darken  the  sky. 
Of  course,  in  order  to  enjoy  it  properly,  one  should  never  start 
unless  equipped  with  clothing  for  every  temperature,  and  provi- 
sions for  a  couple  of  months.  And  all  attempts  at  "  breaking 
records  "  in  altitude  of  ascent  should  be  left  to  the  professionals. 
But,  if  indulged  in  moderately,  ballooning  is  a  most  satisfactory 
pursuit,  giving  its  followers  both  change  of  air  and  pleasurable 
excitement,  especially  when  one  sails  into  a  thunderstorm,  or 
the  valve  jams,  or  the  gas  leaks— incidents  which  constantly 
happen,  and  prevent  ballooning  being  ever  accounted  an  unin- 
teresting form  of  amusement. 


We  are  glad  to  see  that  the  Church,  at  any  rate,  gives  this 
recreation  nearty  support.  Indeed,  on  Sunday  last  the  Bishop 
of  Smit  hiirld  converted  his  captive  balloon  into  a  pulpit,  and 
addressed  a  large  congregation  from  it  in  the  open  air.  Appa- 
rently his  treatment  of  some  rather  controversial  points  offended 
me  member  of  his  congregation,  who  severed  the  rope  of  the 
balloon  with  a  pocket-knife.  This,  unfortunately,  brought  the 
sermon  to  an  untimely  end,  as  the  Bishop  was  immediately 
carried  away  into  space,  and  has  not  been  heard  of  since. 


Several  balloon  gymkhanas  are  shortly  to  be  held,  and  will 
doubtless  prove  interesting.  Of  course,  when  the  season  is  over, 
everyone  will  take  their  balloons  with  them  into  the  country, 
and  it  is  possible  that  the  servants,  who  rather  resented  pumping 


THE   QUEEN   AND   THE    HOLIDAYS. 

Delight  of  Mr.  liarlwo  atul  1  itpiis  on  /tearing  of  IJer  Alujtstyi  with  fo 
^i-hool  Holidays  this  Diamond  Jubilee  ifidsu, 


"  HOORAY  !  THE  JUBILEB  ! 

THE  JUBILEE  !  THE  JUBILEE  ' 
HOORAY  !  THE  JUBILEE  ! 

WE  'VE  GOT  AN  EXTRA  WEEK,  0  ! 
GOD  SAVE  THE  QUEEN  !  " 


out  a  tyre  in  the  old  bicycling  days,  will  feel  still  more  injurec 
at  having  to  innate  twenty  or  thirty  balloons  for  a  oountry-nous< 
party.  But  before  long  the  cook  and  the  butler  will  be  seei 
disporting  themselves  in  mid-air  on  their  own  account. 


What  Sir  H.  Irving  didn't  Hear 

When  he  uncovered  the  Statue  of  Mrs.  Siddons  at  Paddmgtm. 

One  of  the  Well-informed  in  the  Crowd.  I  eay,  BILL,  I  though! 
as  a  statue  if  it  weren't  a-norseback  were  allus  a-standing  hup  ? 

Second  Better-Informtd.  Rightcbyar  ol'  man  !  Only  this  "ere 
is  a  statetoo  of  Missus  Sit-downs. 


TEST  OP  TRUH  GALLANTBY. — Were  a  young  belle  of  the  season 
to  be  suddenly  placed  in  imminent  danger,  would  not  men  of  all 
ranks  and  ages  rush  to  her  assistance  ?  Would  they  not,  at  all 
hazards,  attempt  to  save  herP  Why,  certainly.  Well,  here  is 
an  "Old  Belle 'r— the  "Old  Bell  of  Holbom"— once  the  pride  of 
coaching  men,  now  doomed  to  certain  destruction  unless  those  in- 
terested in  the  good  old  coaching  days,  and  their  survival  in  this 
"  so-called  nineteenth  century,"  will  come  forward  and  save  this 
'  Old  Bell "  from  destruction.  Let  it  be  preserved  and  restored  to 
ts  former  usefulness,  with  a  first-rate  cuisine,  where  simple  fare 
shall  be  had  in  perfection,  of  which  the  simply  travelling  fares  to 
Brighten  and  back  will,  in  company  with  the  friends  and  guests, 
jartako  previous  to  departure  and  on  their  return.  Let  there  be 
^reserved  us  at  least  one  of  the  "  Fine  old  English  Hostelries  "  of 
he  Pickwickian  days,  "  all  in  the  good  old  style,"  adapted  to 
;he  modern  requirements. 

AT  Denbyshire  Summer  Assizes,  Mr.  Justice  RIDLEY  recently 
sentenced  one  TAYLOB,  of  the  Royal  Order  of  Ancient  Shepherds, 
o  penal  servitude  for  three  years  for  forgery  and  embezzlement. 
The  "  Malus  Pastor"  was  punished  for  illegally  "  fleecing." 

OUB  REAL  ALEY-UNS. — The  thousands  of  Britons  whose  motto 
"  Beer  and  for  beer  1 " 


324 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JUNE  26,  1897. 


"KIND  LADY,', I  WAS  NOT  ALWAYS  LIKE  THIS!'" 

"  WHY,  NO.     IT  WAS  YOUR  OTHER  ARM  THAT  WAS  PINNED  UP  YESTERDAY  !' 


WABEANTED  MADE  IN  GEEMANY. 
(Extract  from  an  Imperial  Note-book.) 

OH!  how  I  should  have  enjoyed  it! 
Fancy  miles  and  miles  of  bowings  and 
cheerings  and  flags!  Splendid!  But  of 
course  I  would  have  had  something  better 
than  the  stage  coach.  Would  have  de- 
signed a  car  something  between  the  Tour 
Eiffel  and  the  Pyramids.  Of  course, 
searchlights  directed  at  me  from  all  sides ! 
Oh  !  I  would  have  a  grand  time  of  it !  But 
think  I  should  have  done  better  at  Temple 
Bar.  Would  have  made  the  Lord  Mayor 
and  sheriffs  get  off  their  horses,  seen  them 
into  my  triumphal  car,  and  then  ridden 
th°,  three  chargers  at  once  myself!  Could 
have  done  it  easily.  Always  direct  the 
Berlin  circus  myself.  I  am,  by  the  way,  a 


first-rate  master  of  the  ring.  Oh !  it  would 
have  been  lovely!  And  what  a  thanks- 
giving service  I  would  have  had !  But  the 
whole  world  should  have  been  turned  upon 
St.  Paul's  by  telephone.  And  I  would  in 
person  have  conducted  the  Te  Deum. 

And  then,  after  my  procession,  I  would 
have  made  all  the  seatholders  march  in 
procession  before  me.  They  should  have 
saluted  me,  the  whole  lot  of  them.  That 
iKcvld  have  been  grand  1  Then,  at  the 
Ball,  I  would  have  done  all  the  dancing, 
and  at  the  Naval  Review  all  the  manoeu- 
vring. What  a  grand  affair  I  would  have 
had !  With  all  those  ships  ready  to  hand, 
not  sure  I  wouldn't  have  paid  my  promised 
visit  to  Paris.  Don't  know  much  about 
naval  manoeuvring,  but  think  I  could 
have  brought  up  a  few  men-o'-war,  via 
the  Seine,  to  the  Louvre. 


And  oh  1  what  a  game  I  would  have  had 
at  Aldershot  I  And  out  of  it  I  Yes ;  all 
out  of  it  I  Of  course,  it  was  felt  that  if  I 
were  there,  I  would  sure  to  be  the  central 
figure.  Well,  that  wouldn't  have  done. 
Show  belonged  to  much-revered  relative. 
But  should  so  like  to  do  something  of  the 
sort  myself.  Could  easily  get  a  million 
soldiers;  and  by  depopulating  all  the 
Crown  colonies,  would  scrape  up  a  hun- 
dred German  colonists.  And  I  daresay  old 
KRUGER  would  turn  up  for  a  considera- 
tion. Then  with  cardboard  and  fireworks 
could  do  a  lot  more.  But  then  I  haven't 
reigned  sixty  years.  At  least,  not  quite. 
And  yet  I  should  so  like  to  do  something 
of  the  sort !  Eureka  1  I  have  it.  I  know 
what  I  will  do.  I  will  hold  a  Double 
Diamond  Jubilee  on  behalf  of  my  prede- 
cessor, FREDERICK  THE  GREAT! 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Boating  Man,  in  cited  by  a  Comely  Widow  to 
view  the  Jubilee  Pn  cession,  answers  her  with 
considerable  audacity. 

THERE  is  no  subject  of  the  QUEEN 

Who  yields  to  me  iu  loyalty ! 
And  yet  somehow  I  'm  rarely  seen 

About  the  haunts  of  royalty. 
This  is  not  due  to  disrespect, 

Nor  yet  because  I  'm  hazy 
About  Court  loings.    I  select 

My  plan — because  I  'm  lazy  I 

A  beefeater  in  full  costume 

Impresses  me  most  vastly  ; 
But  sometimes,  at  a  Drawing  Room, 

I  've  seen  fair  maids  look  ghastly  ! 
It  would  not  do  to  diagnose 

Why  they  should  just  have  failed  in 
The  light  in  which  full  many  a  rose 

Assuredly  had  paled  in  1 

I  only  know  I  cannot  stand 

The  crowds,  the  bands  and  cheering. 
The  sight,  I  know,  is  very  grand, 

But  not  my  sense  of  hearing ! 
And  so  with  all  my  thanks  to  you, 

I  plead  lack  of  progression ; 
You  '11  tell  me  everything  that 's  new 

About  the  QUEEN'S  Procession! 

Meanwhile,  when  you  are  lacking  food 

And  drink,  from  window  speering, 
I  shall  indulge  (in  other  mood), 

P'raps  Staines  or  Windsor  nearing. 
"  The  Sells  of  Ouseky  "  seems  to  me 

The  spot  whereat  to  linger ; 
And  yet,  you  know,  I'd  love  to  be 

Beside  your  wedding  finger  ! 


A  EOYAL  (RICHMOND)  GRANT. 

DEAR  SIR, — I  understand  that  the 
Mayor  of  Richmond  (Surrey,  not  York- 
shire) has  been  voted  £250,  in  addition  to 
his  salary  of  £300,  in  consequence  of  the 
Jubilee,  by  the  members  of  the  Corpora- 
tion. This  is  an  example  which  ought  to 
be  followed  all  over  the  country,  but  half 
a  "monkey"  is,  after  all,  but  a  poor  tri- 
"ito  to  a  mayor.  Let  the  Corporation  go 
the  whole  hog  or  none,  at  the  expense  of 
the  i-ratepayers. 

Yours  to  command, 

Sheen  Green.  FORK-OUT. 


DURING  the  Kempton  Park  case,  Sir 
FRANK  LOOKWOOD  remarked  that  there 
was  "  every  chance  of  Scotland  becoming  a 
Monte  Carlo."  The  national  song  will  be, 
"  Bonnie  Monty  Carlie ! " 


w 

so 


I 


I 
s- 


S 


r1 
o 


to 


O 

CO 

H 

n 


H 

- 


O 
cj 


I 

ra 
3 


f 
M 

w 


GO 


H 

HH 
HH 


o 


JUNK  26,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


COUNTRY    COUSINS. 


The  Gushirgton  Girls  have  just  arrived  by  rail,  and  are  inhaling  tltf 
Odours  ufu.ii  average  London  Terminus. 

Uiss  MMij  Uushiiiylun.    "WAIT  A  BIT,  UNCLE."     (Sniff.)      "On, 
ISN'T  IT  LOVKLY,  HILLY  (    DOB»N'T  IT  JUST  SMELL  OF  THE  SEASON  ? " 
Miss  Hilly  Gushinyton.  "  DON'T  SFEAK  ABOUT  IT— ONLY  SNIFF  !  " 


OUR    BOOKING -OFFICE. 

Waste  and  Repair  have  nothing  to  do  with  a  repairing  lease 
in  the  ordinary  adaptation  of  the  term.  It  is  the  title  given  by 
Dr.  ROBSON  ROOSB  to  a  collection  of  his  essays,  contributed  at 
various  times  to  some  of  the  principal  magazines,  now  published 
in  one  volume  by  JOHN  MURRAY.  It  is  waste  and  repair  in  the 
lease  of  life  with  which  the  eminent  Doctor  (known  in  diplomatic 
circles  as  RUSTEM  ROOSB  PACHA)  is  concerned.  As  many  of  our 
best  known  public  men  can  testify,  the  subject  is  one  he  is  by 
successful  practice  peculiarly  qualified  to  deal  with.  The  results 
of  his  wide  experience,  guided  by  profound  knowledge  and  singu- 
lar aptitude,  is  distilled  in  this  handy  volume.  Among  the 
subjects  dealt  with  are  the  wear  and  tear  of  London  life,  the  art 
of  prolonging  life,  clothing  as  a  protection  against  cold,  health 
resorts  and  their  uses.  In  the  course  of  dealing  with  these  and 
other  subjects  of  every-day  life,  Dr.  ROBSON  ROOSB  manages  to 
convey  in  simple  language  a  multiplicity  of  valuable  hints,  useful 
alike  to  the  invalid,  and  to  the  healthy  man,  whose  day  is  not 
long  enough  for  its  appointed  tasks. 

Messrs.  BURNAND  and  MAY  have  been  making  a  sort 
of  Canterbury  Pilgrimage  through  Kent,  keeping  chiefly  to 
the  coast  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Ramsgate  and  Mar- 
gate. The  result  is  seen  in  the  handy  volume  published  by 
A.  AND  C.  BLACK.  The  Zig-Zag  Guide  is  totally  unlike  anything 
previously  put  forward  by  the  firm  whose  name  is  given  to  many 
guides.  There  is  about  it  very  little  that  is  archaeological,  his- 
torical, or  in  other  ways  heavy.  It  is  just  the  bright  chatter  of 
a  gay  companion,  who  enjoys  a  holiday  himself,  and  is  the  cause 
of  desire  on  the  part  of  others  to  make  holiday.  In  spite  of  its 
bantering  tone  the  book  us  full  of  shrewd  hints  of  what  to  see 
and  how  to  see  it,  "  round  and  about  the  bold  and  beautiful 
Kentish  coast."  The  sparkling  pages  are  further  illuminated  by 
abounding  illustrations.  Some  of  PHIL.  MAY'S  very  best  work 
will  be  found  in  this  modest  volume,  whose  price  completes  its 
attractiveness.  People  about  to  visit  Ramsgate  and  Margate 
will  find  it  indispensable.  Those  who  are  nob  going,  will,  when 
they  read  it,  wish  they  were. 

"  I  wants  to  make  your  flesh  creep,"  might  Mr.  BRAM  STOKER 
well  say  as  a  preface  to  his  latest  book,  named  Dracula,  which  he 
has  given  in  charge  of  the  CONSTABLES  (&  Co.)  to  publish.  The  story 


is  told  in  diaries  and  journals,  a  rather  tantalising  and  somewhat 
wuariboiuu  form  of  narration,  whereof  \\II.KIE  COLLINS  was  a  past- 
master.  In  almost  all  ghostly,  as  in  most  detective  stories,  one 
character  mu&t  never  bo  absent  from  thu  dramatis  persona,  and 
that  is  The  Inquiring,  Sceptical,  Credulous  Noodle.  The  luu.u.r- 
ing  Noodle  of  Fiction  must  be  what  in  comedy  "  CUARLBS  hu 
friend  "  is  to  the  principal  comedian,  "  only  more  so,"  as  represent- 
ing the  devoted,  admiring  slave  of  the  philosophic  astute  hero,  ever 
ready  to  question,  ever  ready  to  dispute,  ever  ready  to  make  a 
mistake  at  the  critical  moment,  or  to  go  to  sleep  just  when  suc- 
cess depends  on  his  remaining  awake.  "Friend  JOHN"  is  Mr. 
UKAM  STOKER'S  Noodle-in-Chief.  There  are  also  some  secondary 
.Noodles;  Noodles  of  no  importance.  This  weird  tale  is  about 
Vampires,  not  a  single,  quiet,  creeping  Vampire,  but  a  whole 
brood  of  them,  governed  by  a  Vampire  Monarch,  who  is  ap- 
parently a  sort  of  first  cousin  to  Mepliiitupheles.  Rats,  bats,  wolves 
and  vermin  obey  him,  but  his  power,  like  that  of  a  certain  well- 
advertised  soap,  •'  which  will  nut  wash  clothes,"  has  its  limits ; 
and  so  at  last  he  is  trapped,  and  this  particular  brood  of  vampires 
is  destroyed  as  utterly  as  would  be  a  hornets'  nest  when  soused 
with  hot  pitch.  It  is  a  pity  that  Mr.  BRAM  STOKER  was  not  con- 
tent to  employ  such  supernatural  anti-vampire  receipts  as  his 
wildest  imagination  might  have  invented  without  rashly  ven- 
turing on  a  domain  where  angels  fear  to  tread.  But  for  this, 
the  Baron  could  have  unreservedly  recommended  so  ingenious  a 
romance  to  all  who  enjoy  the  very  weirdest  of  weird  tales. 

THE  BARON  D«  B..W. 


A  NOTE  OF  THE  DAY. 

(Intercepted.) 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND, — According  to  my  promise  I  write  you  a 
line  to  give  you  all  the  news  of  the  moment.  Uf  course  you 
know  we  have  had  the  celebration  of  the  Diamond  Jubilee.  But 
let  that  pass. 

The  progress  of  the  peace  negotiations  at  Athens  are  of  con- 
siderable interest.  And  when  I  talk  of  Greece  I  am  reminded 
that  illumination  by  electric  light  is  much  cleaner  than  oil. 
On  Jubilee  night  this  was  evident.  But  let  that  pass. 

The  House  of  Commons  has  got  into  Supply.  And  when  I  talk 
of  Supply  it  is  a  matter  of  conjecture  whether  the  wood  employed 
in  the  seats  can  be  used  again.  Of  course  the  Jubilee  was 
unique. 

The  cricket  averages  so  far  have  not  been  sensational.  We 
have  the  Philadelphia^,  but  the  Australians  are  twn  est.  And 
this  reminds  me  that  the  Colonial  Premiers  have  had  a  good  time 
of  it,  thanks  to  the  Jubilee.  But  let  that  pass. 

The  theatres  are  doing  well.  Von  know  that  Mr.  BEERBOHM 
TREE  has  opened  Her  Majesty's.  The  Poet  Laureate  wrote  the 
inaugural  verses,  and  that  reminds  me  that  the  poem  on  the 
Jubilee  was  up-to-date.  But  let  that  pass. 

I  really  can  scarcely  describe  the  fashions.  Red,  white  and 
blue  are  the  prevailing  colours — no  doubt  in  honour  of  the 
Jubilee.  But  let  that  pass. 

The  season  is  on  the  wane.  When  wa  reach  July  we  begin  to 
look  out  trains.  And  this  season  has  been  particularly  brilliant 
on  account  of  the  Jubilee.  But  let  that  pass. 

And  now,  my  dear  friend,  I  think  I  have  exhausted  my  budget 
of  news.  Of  course  I  could  tell  you  all  about  the  Jubilee,  but 
as  you  have  seen  what  I  could  say  in  the  newspapers,  my  account 
would  be  a  trifle  stale.  And  this  is  rather  unfortunate.  If  I 
omit  the  Jubilee  I  can  think  of  nothing  else. 

Yours  very  truly,  TAIT  MONTAY. 


A  Matter  of  Metal. 

AT  RICHARD  I.E  GALLIBNNB  some  seem  enraged ; 

But  Art's  brains,  with  a  strange  epilepsy  a-twirl, 
And  fiction  erotic,  seem  chiefly  engaged 

In  "  The  Quest  of  the  Brazen  Girl.1* 

PROPHETICAL.— In  The  Comic  Almanack,  illustrated  by  GBOROB 
CRCICKSHANK,  under  date,  June  21,  1837,  Mr.  Punch's  private 
secretary  has  found  the  following  lines :  — 

"  The  HfEH.v  proclaimed  upon  the  longest  day ! 

May  this  coincidence  be  not  in  vain ; 
But  prove  prophetic  of  her  lengthened  tway, 
And  to  the  longest  day  proclaim  her  reigu." 


THE  favourite  weapon  of  the  burglar  ought  to  be  the  Repeat- 
ing Rifle. 


328 


PUNCH,   OR   THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JONB  26,  1897. 


READY-MADE  COAT(-OF-ARMS)  FOE  THE   LONDON    COUNTY  COUNCIL. 


Arim :  Quarterly ;  1st,  thiee  music-bull  stars  blatant  voided  of  guile  charged  with  double-entendres 
studded  azure  ;  2nd,  issuant  from  a  "  ring  "  sinister  spotted  and  exposed  proper  a  balance-sheet  doctored 
and  distinctly  fiehee  to  the  last,  all  under  a  cloud  sable ;  3rd,  a  civic  turtle  pommelled  and  affronted 
proper  charged  in  the  middle  for  betterment  with  a  belabour  member  poignant  in  satire  or  battersea 
cough-drop  rampant ;  4th,  two  party-coloured  fighting-cocks  dancette  in  fury  chronically  embroiled 
proper  on  a  ground  litigious  in  the  main.  Crest :  A  prude  vigilant  on  the  pounce  armed  with  pince-nez 
and  reticule  highly  proper ;  in  her  bonnet  an  heraldic  bee  rampant.  Supporters :  On  either  side  an 
antique  ciric  effigy  habited  proper  up  to  date,  the  dexter  bearing  a  special  globe  gules,  and  the  sinister  a 
star  extra-special  vert. 


HAYMAEKETABLE  PIECE. 

"  GENTS'  old  materials  carefully  made 
up"  and  turned  out  as  good  as  new,  or  even 
better,  by  Mr.  SYDNEY  GRUNDY,  who  has 
shown  workmanlike  skill  in  this  the  latest, 
but  probably  not  by  any  means  the  last, 
adaptation  of  ALEXANDRE  DUMAS'  comedy, 
Un  Manage  sous  Louis  Qudnze.  When 
in  1861  PLANCHE  did  it  for  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
CHARLES  MATHEWS,  as  My  Lord  and  My 
Lady;  or,  it  Might  have  been  Worse,  The 
General,  so  capitally  played  now  by  Mr. 
SYDNEY  VALENTINE  (who,  by  the  way, 
makes  him  so  rough  and  uncouth  as  to  be 
more  suggestive  of  Orson  than  Valentine), 
was  transformed  into  a  lady,  and  played  by 
Mrs.  WILKINS.  and  Mrs.  FITZWILMAM 
played  the  soubrette,  which  is  now  viva- 
ciously interpreted  by  Miss  ADRIENNE 
DAIROLLES.  The  old-fashioned  confidential 
valet,  Jasmin,  is  effectively  played  by  Mr. 
HOLMAN  CLARK,  "  by  permission  of  Mr. 
TREE."  By  the  way,  three  out  of  the  four 
principal  characters,  exclusive  of  Manager 
MAUDE  and  wife,  appear  here  by  kind  per- 
mission of  somebody  else.  Mr.  TERRISS  is 
"permitted"  by  Messrs.  A.  and  8.  GATTI, 
and  Mr.  VALENTINE  is  "  permitted  "  by  Sir 
HENRY  IRVINO.  The  formula  used  to  be, 
"  by  kind  permission,"  but  on  a  change 
tout  cela,  and  into  what  is  evidently  purely 
"a  matter  of  business,"  kindness  does  not 
enter. 

Miss  WINIFRED  EMERY,  as  Comtesse  de 


Candale,  has  not  had  a  better  part,  nor 
played  a  part  better  than  this,  for  some 
time.  True,  it  makes  no  such  extra- 
ordinary demand  on  the  dramatic  resources 
as  does  the  very  compound  character  of 
the  Chevalier  de  Valclos  on  those  of  Mr. 
CYRIL  MAUDE,  whose  impersonation  of  a 
frivolous  coxcomb,  with  all  the  courage  ol 
his  opinions  and  absolutely  spoiling  for  a 
duel,  is  masterly.  Had  Maitre  DUMAS  not 
fashioned  this  character  on  these  lines,  the 
denouement  as  it  is  would  have  been  im- 
possible, and  the  comedy  would  have  be- 
come a  tragedy. 

Mr.  WILLIAM  TERRISS  is  so  delightful  as 
the  Count  of  Many  Costumes,  that  the 
audience  would  not  spare  a  single  riband, 
or  buckle,  or  scrap  of  lace,  from  his  adorn- 
ments ;  and  as  to  the  way  in  which  he 
holds  a  letter  in  his  left  and  slaps  it  with 
his  right  hand,  as  a  preliminary  action  to 
reading  its  contents,  why,  there  is  not  a 

fenuine  gallery-goer,  or  persistent  pittite, 
ut  must  feel  tempted  to  murmur  sob- 
bingly,  "  Sure-ly  that  letter  comes  from 
See-usan  !  Bless  her  dear  eyes !  "  and  then 
anxiously  expect  him  to  address  the  Cheva- 
lier as  "messmate,"  previous  to  proposing 
a  hornpipe  a  deux.  Yes;  Number  Al 
Adelphi  TERRISS  is  every  inch  a  sailor. 
But,  pardon,  here  he  is  quite  the  young 
debonnair  French  count,  with  all  the  air& 
and  graces  associated  with  the  court  of 
Louis  QUINZE. 

Congratulations    to   Messrs.    HARRISON, 


MAUDE  and  GHUNDY  on  their  successful 
levival  ot  a  play  which  has  already  nad  a 
good  time  ot  it  during  its  long  career  in 
a  tormer  state  of  existence.  iSy  tne  way, 
in  1861,  Mr.  DION  BOUCICAULT,  wlio  had  a 
knack  of  taking  over  whatever  suited  his 
purpose,  used  one  scene  of  this  play  in  his 
Love  in  a  Maze,  without  any  acknowledg- 
ment. But  PLANCHE  found  him  out,  and 
mentions  the  fact  in  the  preface  to  his  pub- 
lished play,  My  Lord  and  My  Lady. 


AUGUSTE  EN  ANGLETEKBE. 

THE  FEASTS  OF  THE  JUBILEE. 

DEAR  MISTER, — Unuseful  of  to  write  the 
in-head,  I'en-tete,  of  this  letter  I  Les  fetes 
du  juJtnle,  voila  that  of  whom  all  the  world 
speaks  1 

Me  I  go  not  to  write  a  letter  also  long  as 
at  the  ordinary,  tor  in  enect  I  have  but 
little  of  things  to  say.  Only,  and  this  it 
is  not  a  little  thing,  that  a  French  desires 
to  otter,  with  the  most  great  respect,  nis 
very  humble  felicitations  to  Her  Majesty 
the  QUEEN.  1  dare  to  say  that  all  my  com- 
patriots, even  the  most  iunous  redactewrs 
of  the  most  despisable  journals  of  .fans, 
even  the  most  violent  of  the  Socialists — in 
effect  the  least  important  of  the  French, 
but  those  who  make  themselves  to  hear 
tho  most — for  little  that  they  love  the 
England  and  the  monarchy,  must  to  ad- 
mire a  sovereign  so  wortny  of  homage. 
As  to  the  persons  more  tranquil,  as  me, 
they  are  for  sure  of  my  advice. 

All  the  preparatives  are  very  curious  to 
see.  1  admire  much  the  enthusiasm,  so 
rarely  in  evidence,  of  the  English  ordi- 
narily calm  and  correct.  Ah,  the  beautiful 
occasion  of  to  forget  la  morgue  britan- 
nique  si  morne,  the  britannic  mortuary  so 
mournful]  Figure  to  yourself,  Mister 
Punch,  the  millions  of  Londonians  become 
gay  as  some  Marseillais  in  the  honour  of 
the  QUEEN  !  What  day  of  feast !  Provided 
that  he  makes  fine!  But  hope  we  alldays 
that  we  shall  see,  at  above  of  the  vast  con- 
course of  Londonians,  gay  as  some  Meri- 
dionals, a  sky  blue  as  at  Nice. 

During  almost  all  the  duration  of  this 
reign  so  long  and  so  glorious,  you  have 
been,  dear  Mister  Punch,  one  of  the  most 
loyal  subjects  of  HER  MAJESTY.  Me  I  am 
stranger,  and  I  have  passed  but  some 
months  in  your  country.  Permit,  how- 
ever, that  we  say  together  our  wishes  the 
most  sincere.  God  save  the  QUEEN  ! 
Hipipourra!  Agree,  &c., 

AUGUSTE. 


From    an    Eminent  English  Tenor  of 
the   Past  to   M.   Jean  de  Reszke. 

(AlB — "My  Pretty  Jane.") 

MY  stalwart  JEAN,  expensive  JEAN, 

Oh !  do  not  be  so  shy ! 
But  sing,  oh !  sing,  on  all  your  evenings, 

Or  else  they  '11  think  that  you  are  1 1 


BY  Central  News  wire  the  news  arrived 
last  Wednesday  that  Prince  HENRY  of 
Prussia  was  about  to  present  the  First 
Lord  of  the  Admiralty,  Mr.  GOSCHEN,  with 
a  picture,  representing  a  fleet  of  English 
cruisers,  drawn  by  the  GERMAN  EMPEROR. 
Very  nice ;  Mr.  GOSCHEN  delighted,  of 
course  ;  but — what  will  he  do  with  it  ? 


STAGE  DORIC. — The  language  of  the  hall- 
keeper  at  a  theatre  where  a  chorus  is 
employed. 


JUNE  26,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARL 


329 


RED  TAPE  AND  BROTHERLY  LOVE. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — Some  of  the  members  of  the  Colonial 
Forces,  now  visiting  the  homejand  of  their  QUEEN,  are  reported 
to  be  rather  sore  because  official  Rod  Tape — that  dreadful  ham- 
string of  the  old  bureaucracy — has  in  minor  measure  not  done 
justice  to  their  patriotism  in  crossing  the  seas  for  the  Diamond 
Commemoration  of  our  well-beloved  Sovereign.  You,  Sir,  repre- 
senting, as  you  do,  an  Imperial  Concert,  know  well  that  neither 
the  QUEEN  nor  the  People  of  the  United  Kingdom  desire  that 
any  slight  should  be  passed  upon  these  gallant  warriors,  who, 
like  the  followers  of  LARS  PORTIUB  of  Clusium,  have  come  from 
East  and  West  and  North  and  South.  Rather  would  we  all  wish 
that  they  should  be,  as  they  deserve  to  be,  the  Heroes  of  this 
Jubilee  Year.  I  am  convinced  that  wheresoever  they  come  from, 
the  Sons  of  the  Empire  are  welcomed  by  their  British  brethren 
with  fervour  and  delight,  but  it  is  just  as  well  for  them  to  under- 
stand that  the  Permanent  Clerk  in  a  Government  Office  is  gene- 
rally so  tied  and  bound  with  the  Red  Tape  aforesaid,  that  a 
statue  of  him  would  resemble  the  Laocoon  without  any  of  its 
artistic  qualities.  He  is  not  a  man,  but  a  machine,  and  in  the 
latter  capacity  he  has  never  got  beyond  the  possibility  of  being 
worked  otherwise  than  by  hand.  He  was  brought  up  by  hand, 
and  he  lives  by  hand — often  to  mouth.  He  has  no  ideas  beyond 
Tradition,  and  he  resents  interference  with  those  ideas. 

I  am  not  sure  whether  the  American  plan  of  shaking  all  the 
Civil  Servants  out  of  their  places  on  the  change  of  President 
would  not  be  beneficial  here,  when  a  Ministry  goes  into  Opposi- 
tion. But  in  any  case  I  am  sure  that  Mr.  JOSEPH  CHAMBERLAIN. 
our  greatest  Imperialist,  would  like,  as  I  would,  to  cut  np  all 
red  tape  and  join  it  with  white  and  blue  for  decorative  purposes. 
Let  all  our  Colonial  visitors  believe  in  the  sincere  love  of  their 
Mother  Country  for  them  and  their  prosperity,  as  does  the  great 
Dominion  of  Canada.  Yours  obediently, 

BRITANNIOCS. 

SUGGESTED  NAME  FOR  A  BICYCLE  THTEF. — Ntrion. 


"  WELL,  'ow  DID  YOU  GET  ON  AT  THE  CLUB  LARST  NIGHT  ? " 

"OH,    I   HAD   BEASTLY   BAD   LUCK.      LOST  A  'UNDRED  AND  8BTEXTY 
QUIDS,    AND    THE    WORST    OF    IT    IS,    FIFTEEN    BOB    OF   IT  WAS   BEADY 

MONEY  !  " 


INTERVIEWS  WITH  INANIMATE 

OBJECTS. 

A  PENNY  ICE. 

I  HAD  heard  a  great  deal  of  the  perni- 
cious character  of  the  common  or  "  bar- 
row "  ice,  so  felt  considerably  embarrassed 
on  recently  finding  myself  face  to  face 
with  one.  Its  evident  coldness  did  not 
tend  to  put  me  at  my  ease,  and  I  made  a 
lame  commencement  of  my  cross-exami- 
nation. 

"  Do  you  suffer  at  all,  this  weather,  from 
over-heating  ?  " 

"Who  are  you  a-gittin'  at?"  was  the 
suspicious  reply.  "  It  ain't  no  odds  to  me 
whether  you  heats  me  or  not.  I  s'pose  I 
was  made  to  be  beaten.  If  you  mean, 
does  them  suffer  as  does  the  over-heating, 
I  dunno  but  what  as  'ow  there  might  be 
somethink  in  it." 

"  You  have  misunderstood  me,  but  I  am 
not  sorry,  because  you  have  incidentally 
touched  upon  the  very  thing  about  which 
I  should  like  definite,  first-hand  informa- 
tion." 

"  Fire  away,  guv"nor  1 " 

"  Are  you.  strictly  speaking,  wholesome  ? 
I  have  read  unpleasant  medical  opinions 
to  the  effect  that  you  are  ruining  the  in- 
teriors of  countless  little  East-end  arabs. 
Doctors  say  that  you  are  positively  thick 
with  microbes." 

"Mike  who?  I'm  positive  I  ain't 
thick  with  any  cove  of  that  name.  Never 
Vard  tell  of  'im." 

"It's  like  this.     An  analyser  who " 

"'Old  'ard,  guv'nor!  If  you  mean  Anna 
'Liza  of  our  Court,  I  don't  see  that  you  Ve 
any  call  to  bring  'er  or  any  other  lydy 
into  this  'ore  bizness." 

I  saw  that  I  must  make  a  simpler  appeal. 
The  want  of  culture  shown  by  this  un- 
educated ice  struck  me  as  a  forcible  con- 
trast to  the  refinement  of  the  barrel-organ 


that  I  had  previously  interviewed  in  the 
interests  of  Mr.  Punch's  readers. 

'They  say  that  you  are  not  clean,  and 
that  you  make  the  children  ill." 

"Tommy-rot,  guVnorl  Dirt's  all  right 
if  you  don't  git  too  much  of  it.  Some  of 
the  poor  little  beggars  do  git  too  much  ol 
it,  there's  no  denying  that,  but  not  from 
me.  There 's  lots  o'  folks  who  'd  be  all  the 
better  of  a  penny  hice.  Keep  'em  cool, 
like!  'Alf  them  there  editors  of  noos- 
papers,  and  sich,  should  be  made  to  eat  a 
hice  reg'lar.  They're  sich  blessed  fire- 
eaters  that  it  would  do  'em  a  power  o" 
good.  Then  I'd  feed  the  'Ouse  o'  Com- 
mons on  hices.  That  would  settle  their 
HASHMEAD-BARTLKTTS  a  bit.  and  save  'em 
from  gittin'  into  'ot  water." 

"Thank  you  for  the  suggestion.  I  will 
write  to  Mr.  Punch  about  it — but  I  cannot 
believe  that  you  are  wholesome." 

"Just  one  thing  more,  guv^nor.  As  a 
loyal  subjeo',  I  has  my  views  about 
honourin'  the  QUEEN'S  Diamond  Jubilee 
Let  that  £25,000  cheque  be  spent  in  pro- 
vidin'  all  the  school-children  of  England 
with  penny  hices  on  Jubilee  day.  Let  'em 
hall  stand  up  at  noon  punctual,  sing  '  Ood 
five  the  Queen,'  and  then  eat  the  hices. 
They  will  never  forget  it  as  long  as  they 
live ! " 

Desperate  Remedies. 
First   Male    Passenger   (in  train  from 
Waterloo  to   Windsor).  When  I  first  got 
hold  of  Xavier  Olibo,  I  had  pretty  well  to 
cut  him  to  nieces. 

Second  M.  P.  That's  the  way  to  do  it. 
I  gave  the   Marquise   de    Castellane   the 
same  treatment.     In   some  cases  there 's 
nothing  like  the  knife  I 
[Old  lady  in  the  corner  nearly  faints  on  hearing 
of  these  atrocities,  and  changes  her  compart- 
ment at  Vauxhall;  but  after  all,  the  supposed 
assassins  were  only  enthusiastic  rose-growers. 


JUBILEE  BOOTS. 

A  Pendant  to  Matinte  Hats. 

["  An  author  has  devised  a  cork  golosh,  4J  inches 
high  and  weighing  10  oz.  to  the  pair,  for  the  use  of 
short  persons,  who  wish  to  view  the  procession  and 
6nd  themselves  in  the  back  rows." — Daily  Paper.] 

ZACCH.BUS  now  no  more  need  climb 

A  tree  or  lamp-post  handy, 
Nor  seek  an  eminence  sublime 

To  make  his  locus  standi. 

A  simple  means  has  been  evolved 

By  genius  too  long  latent ; 
The  dwarf  sightseers  crux  is  solved 

In  this,  the  latest  patent. 
A  writer  sells  to  those  who  '11  buy 

(The  Daily  Mail  announces) 
A  cork  golosh  five  inches  high, 

That  weighs  as  many  ounces. 

"  Boots  off  in  front,"  the  crowd  will  yell 

To  each  obstructive  giant, 
Since  they  obscure  the  view  as  well 

As  girls  with  hats  defiant. 

If  all  the  lieges  bought  a  pair, 
One  scribe  in  luck  would  revel ; 

But  we  should  all  be  "  as  you  were  " — 
A  mob  upon  one  level  1 


The   Latest  Form  of  Assurance. 

Managing  Clerk  (to  Customer  at  In- 
surance Office).  Insure  your  seeing  the 
Jubilee  Procession  1  Certainly,  Sir,  but 
we  must  insert  a  clause  in  the  policy  in- 
sisting upon  your  taking  up  your  position 
on  the  previous  night. 


In  the  Royal  Inclosure  at  Ascot. 

Lady  Millefleurs  (to  Mrs.  GOBEMOUCHK). 
How  on  earth  did  you  get  in  here  ? 

Mrs.  O.  Because  I  wrote  and  said  that  I 
was  a  friend  of  yours  ! 


330 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JONB  26,  1897. 


SIMPLE     ENOUGH. 

Yo'cd  (in  pursuit  of  escaped  Butt,  to  Timmins,  who  is  "teaching  himself").   "Hi,  MISTER  ! 

IF  YER  CATCH   HOLD   OF   HIS  LEADING-STICK,    HE  CAN'T  HURT  YER  !  " 


DARBY  JONES  ON  ASCOT. 

HONOURED  SIB, — Crippled  by  over- 
indulgence after  the  success  in  the  Derby 
of  Galtee  More,  who  represents,  I  under- 
stand, a  kind  of  Alps  in  Ireland,  I  never- 
theless have  crawled  from  my  gout-laden 
couch  to  put  my  hand  to  paper  other 
than  that  delicate  "flimsy"  manufactured 
by  Messrs.  PORTAL  in  Hampshire  for  the 
use  of  the  Bank  of  England  and  the  bene- 
fit of  Mankind.  There  are  those  who  pre- 
tend that  a  ten-pound  note  is  difficult  of 
circulation.  So  is  the  blood.  Neverthe- 
less, I  knew  a  Man  who  used  to  patronise 
the  defunct  Chain  Pier  at  Brighton,  and 
boast  that  he  obtained  admission  gratis  by 
exhibiting  the  Order  to  Bearer  for  ten 
doubloons  issued  by  the  Old  Lady  of 
Threadneedle  Street,  the  gatekeeper  being 
unprovided  with  the  requisite  change. 
This  dodge  succeeded  for  a  time,  but  it  so 
happened  that  at  Brighton  Races,  the 
crafty  individual  in  question  produced  his 
lucky  tenner  to  back  a  quadruped  for  a 
sovereign,  and  was  promptly  made  a  vic- 
tim of  the  Confidence  Trick,  one  of  the 
simplest  and  most  effective  games  evei 
contrived  by  the  Israelites  during  their 
sojourn  in  the  Land  of  the  Nile. 

But  Ascot,  noble  Sir,  is  my  theme.  1 
can  imagine  you  arrayed  in  a  suit  of  pearl 
grey,  surmounted  by  a  white  "chimney- 
pot," and  not  unadorned  with  a  Jubilee 
buttonhole — red,  white  and  blue — strolling 


in  the  Royal  Enclosure  amid  the  Great 
Personages  of  the  Diamond  Commemora- 
tion, conscious  that  socially  you  were  a 
sort  of  MORNINGTON  CANNON,  and  capable 
of  rivalling  that  famous  jockey,  as  at 
Hurst  Park,  in  landing  winners.  Ascot, 
however,  is  not  what  it  was  when  it  was 
chiefly  patronised  by  those  recorded  in  the 
immortal  chronicles  of  BURITE,  WALFORD, 
and  DEBRETT.  The  excellent  service  of  the 
London  and  South-Western  Railway  Com- 
pany, coupled  with  Sir  CHARLES  SOOTIER, 
has  much  to  answer  for.  I  can  remember 
a  period  when  the  temporary  tenant  of  a 
mansion  in  the  neighbourhood,  provided 
with  all  the  luxuries  of  Messrs.  FORTNUM 
AND  MASON,  was  unable  to  supply  bread  to 
his  guests  owing  to  the  failure  of  a  local 
roll-maker.  How  different  is  the  case 
nowadays !  One  runs  down  to  the  classic 
Heath  from  Waterloo  with  all  the  ease  of 
the  Lord  Mayor  proceeding  from  the  Man- 
sion House  to  inaugurate  a  Hospital  in  the 
region  of  Whitechapel. 

Last  year,  Mr.  HAMAR  BASS  appro- 
priated the  Ascot  Cup  with  Love  Wisely, 
and  the  Hunt  Cup  was  annexed  by 
Quarrel — both  the  owners  being  of  high 
degree.  Take  my  word  for  it,  honoured 
Sir,  that  at  Ascot,  the  noble  and  wealthy 
horse-owner  is  always  to  the  fore — like  a 
sailor  on  the  look-out. 

Truth  must  be  told  at  all  hazards,  and  I 
regret  to  say  that,  owing  to  the  uncertain 
state  of  the  Law  on  the  subject  of  what  I 


may  term  "Place-betting,"  I  was  unable 
to  be  present.  But — the  tip  I  sent  you, 
was  it  not  an  inspiration  ? 

His  prospect  was  never  a  dim  "urn, 
You  know  how  I  spotted  J'ersimmon.* 

Ever  your  henchman, 

DABBY  JONES. 
*  We  don't  "  knmc  "  anything  of  the  sort. — El). 


A  JOLLY  JUVENILE  JUBILEE. 

(./?;/  a  Human  Boy. ) 

["  It  has  been  left  to  the  QUEEN  herself  to  sug- 
gest the  form  such  recognition  (of  youth  at  the 
Jubilee)  should  take,  and  she  has  shown  her  perfect 
comprehension  of  the  juvenile  mind  by  intimating 
that  it  would  please  her  if  the  governing  bodies  of 
schools  could  see  their  way  to  making  this  year 
some  addition  to  the  ordinary  summer  holidays,  in 
order  that  the  Diamond  Jubilee  may  live  resplen- 
dent in  the  memory  of  those  to  whom  we  must  look 
to  carry-on  the  work  of  the  Empire." — Times. 

AH!  God  save  the  QUEEN,  boys!  And  all  I 
can  say  is  that  if  those  same  "  govern- 
ing bodies  " 

Can't  find  out  a  way  to  oblige  HER  Mosi 
GRACIOUS,  they  must  be  disloyal  old 
noddies  I 

A  Jubilee  Holiday!  Lor!  what  a  jolly  day! 
or — so  the  Times  speaks  for  royalty — 

Several  days!  Why  not  make  it  a  week, 
and  so  give  lots  of  room  for  our 
loyalty  ? 

Hang  it!  you  can't  do  sufficient  hooraying 
in  twenty-four  hours!  That's  sheer 
fudgery ! 

We  want,  as  the  Times  very  properly  puts 
it,  a  few  days  more  "respite  from 
drudgery." 

It  irmdd  be  mean  to  our  glorious  QUEEN  to 
cut  down  her  holiday  stingily. 

All  very  well  for  those  blamed  Little  Eng- 
landers,  who  would  do  everything 
dingily. 

AH  boys  are  Tories  and  patriots,  you  br>t, 
hating  everything  funky  and  shabby  ; 

And  making  our  Jubilee  Holiday  less  than 
a  week  would  be  worthy  of  LABBT. 

He  would  cut  down  Royal  Grants,  Fleets 
and  Pensions,  and  everything  noble 
and  jolly, 

And  no  doubt  he  'd  like  to  cut  down  the 
QUEEN'S  gift,  which  is  all  nasty  Radi- 
cal folly. 

Make  it  a  week  and  you  '11  make  us  all 
patriots  !  Pater  and  mater,  I  reckon, 

Will  squirm  at  the  notion  ;  but  in  their  de- 
votion, wherever  VICTORIA  may  beckon 

IVi/'ll  loyally  follow!  'Twill  beat  LUB- 
BOCK  hollow,  VICTORIA'S  week  for  the 
nippers  will ; 

And  just  iron'f  we  onjoy  it,  and  better  em- 
ploy it  than  all  the  Bank  Holiday 
trippers  will ! ! ! 


A  CASE  OF  IDENTITY. 

DR.  GRIMSHAW,  Head  Master  of  St. 
Boniface,  is  taking  the  Sixth  Form,  when 
there  enters  a  telegraph-boy.  The  Doctor, 
thinking  to  impress  the  class,  motions  the 
intruder  to  be  quiescent  till  one  of  the 
form  has  finished  his  construing.  When 
the  boy  has  finished,  he  beckons  to  the 
postal  emissary,  and  in  his  rich,  sonorous 
and  academical  voice,  enquires:  "Well, 
my  lad,  what  do  you  want?"  Telegraph 
Boy.  "  'Ere 's  a  wire  for  GRIMSHAW." 
The  Doctor.  "Give  it  to  me."  Tekgraph 
Boy  (resolved  to  have  his  revenge).  "But 
are  you  GRIMSHAW  ?  " 

[Simultaneous  convulsion  of  the  Form. 


JULY  3,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


331 


MARRIED    V.    SINGLE. 

Hee  (single).  "  WHY  DO  YOU  WEAR  A  PINK  BLOUSE,  DEAR  ?    IT  HAKES  YOU  LOOK  so  YELLOW!' 

Bdla  (married).  "DOES  IT,  DEAR?    OF  COURSE  YOU  CAN  MAKE  YOUR  COMPLEXION  SUIT  ANY  BLOUSE,  CAN'T  YOU!' 


THE  JUBILEE  CELEBBATOR'S  VADE  MECUM. 

Question.  Is  not  the  celebration  of  the  Jubilee  nearly  over  ? 

Answer.  Certainly  not,  for  although  the  great  event  has  passed 
minor  exhibitions  of  enthusiasm  will  continue  for  a  fortnight  or 
longer. 

Q.  What  has  been  the  characteristic  of  the  demonstration  P 

A.  After  mature  deliberation  I  would  suggest  miscalculation. 

Q.  Upon  what  evidence  do  you  rest  your  proposition  ? 

A.  The  evidence  of  my  senses.  For  instance,  it  was  thought 
that  the  procession  would  be  the  indirect  cause  of  many  acci- 
dents— as  a  matter  of  fact  it  was  accountable  for  none. 

Q.  Can  you  give  other  instances  ? 

A.  I  can.  It  was  believed  that  the  streets  would  have  been 
crowded  to  excess,  and  every  precaution  was  taken  to  prevent 
mischief.  According  to  statistics,  the  spectators  in  the  streets  on 
the  line  of  route  were  comparatively  few,  and  scarcely  up  to  the 
average  of  the  customary  multitude  watching  a  Lord  Mayor's 
Show.  Then  it  was  believed  by  a  number  of  speculators  that 
the  sale  of  seats  beside  the  progress  would  produce  fortunes, 
whereas  most  of  the  transactions  connected  with  such  like  yen. 
tures  resulted  in  loss. 

Q.  Was  it  not  thought  that  the  raising  of  fares  would  be  a 
good  thing  for  the  proprietors  of  omnibuses  and  cabs  ? 

A.  It  was.  And  here  again  may  be  traced  evidence  of  a  mis- 
calculation. 

Q.  What  are  the  physical  requirements  of  an  official  Jubilee 
celebrator  P 

A.  He  or  she  should  be  able  to  dispense  with  horses  and  car- 
riages, trusting  to  his  legs  alone,  to  keep  a  clear  head  in  the 
vastest  crowds,  and  to  do  without  nourishment  for  an  indefinite 
length  of  time. 

Q.  Ought  a  celebrator  to  be  able  to  spend  money  ? 

A.  He  ought  to  be  able  to  spend  money  freely,  by  paying 
about  four  times  the  normal  value  of  everything,  from  pen- 
wipers to  bedrooms  in  a  hotel. 

Q.  What  would  be  the  Jubilee  price  of  a  penny  bun? 

A.  About  threepence,  and  a  halfpenny  glass  of  milk  would 
often  be  valued  at  twopence. 

Q.  From  this  I  take  it  that  enhanced  prices  have  to  be  paid 
for  everything  in  London  during  the  celebration  ? 


A.  Certainly.  Perhaps  the  prices  would  have  been  lower  had 
the  anticipations  of  the  visitors  been  more  moderate. 

Q.  You  mean  to  say  that  the  newcomers,  expecting  to  have 
to  pay,  found  their  hosts  ready  to  accept  the  suggestion  ? 

I .  Quite  so ;  and  where  a  stand  was  made  for  a  reduction,  a 
compromise  immediately  followed. 

Q.  Can  you  give  an  instance  of  this  ? 

A.  Certainly,  in  the  sale  of  seats,  where  a  place  originally 
valued  at  five  guineas  ultimately  fell  to  five  shillings. 

Q.  But  leaving  pecuniary  considerations  out  of  the  question,  is 
the  Jubilee  a  success  ? 

A.  A  gigantic  success,  for  it  has  shown  that  a  quarter  of  the 
world  loves  and  appreciates  a  blameless  Queen,  and  rejoices  to 
be  her  subjects. 

Q.  And  such  a  demonstration  no  doubt  will  be  an  excellent 
object  lesson  to  envious  foreigners  ? 

A.  Unquestionably. 

Q.  Then,  when  all  is  said  and  done,  the  game  has  been  worth 
the  candle  ? 

A.  Undoubtedly. 

THE  KJSMPTON  PARK  APPEAL. — What  is  "  a  place  "  ?  Give  an 
"  i "  to  it  and  it  will  certainly  be  a  "  plaice "  not  "  within  the 
meaning  of  the  Act."  But  then  comes  the  question,  "  What 
Act  ?  "  It  must  be  a  Fishery  Act,  at  least,  so  it  would  appear  to 
a  fisher  for  plaice,  but  not  to  a  place-hunter.  A  place  is  some- 
where where  a  horse  can  stand,  vide  the  poet : 

"  Thi»  is  the  Place  ;  stand  still,  my  steed !  " 

There  are  all  sorts  of  "  places^"  and  sooner  or  later  the  Book- 
maker may  find  himself  in  "a  tight  place."  The  vagaries  of  this 
argument  are  endless.  

ON  BOABD  THE  "CAMPANIA."— On  Saturday,  at  the  Jubilee 
Naval  Review,  an  un-nautical  M.P.,  following  in  the  wake  of  the 
Victoria  and  Albert,  had  provided  himself  with  a  large  number 
of  daily  papers.  "  You  "re  an  uncommonly  sharp  chap  on  most 
occasions,"  observed  a  friendly  Oppositionist,  "but  to-day  even 
you  won't  be  able  to  '  read  between  the  linen.'  "  And  he  gave  up 
the  attempt. 


VOL.  CTII. 


332 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  3,  1897. 


Sain  Jones  is  not  in  "  the  profession,"  but  has  been  sent  on,  in  an  emergency,  without  rehearsal, 
as  the  ' '  Baron's  servant, "  with  one  line  to  speak. 

Sam  (entering).   "ME  LAUD,  THE  DOCK  DE  LAVAL  is  DEAD!" 

The  Baron.  "  WHAT  SAY'ST  THOU,  KNAVE?"  Sam  (annoyed).  "  Fotr 'EARD  !  " 


"THE  CHAP  WITH  THE  BAPS." 

(A  Shadowy  Fragment  from  a  Phantom 
Romance. ) 

"  How  did  I  become  possessed  of  this 
desirable  residence  ? "  I  said  to  my  little 
grandson,  who,  having  had  an  altercation 
with  his  nurse,  had  prematurely  joined  our 
circle.  "  I  '11  toll  you." 

I  looked  round  and  admired  our  domicile. 
It  was  a  fine  place,  but  having  of  course 
been  left  severely  alone,  was  falling  into 
decay.  That  is  the  worst  of  our  society. 
We  can  stand  in  the  moonlight,  or  float 
about  woods,  but  we  cannot  keep  mansions 
in  thoroughly  decorative  repair.  More's 
the  pity,  but  then,  the  existence  of  a  shade 
has  compensating  advantages.  The  power 


of  becoming  visible  or  invisible  at  will 
opens  out  a  large  field  for  the  perpetration 
of  practical  jokes. 

Not  that  I  am  fond  of  humour — as  a 
matter  of  fact,  I  jest  with  difficulty — but 
still,  I  can  see  the  benefit  of  the  privilege 
of  spectre  ways. 

"  Yes  ;  I  got  it  from  Messrs.  POSTER  AND 
HAMMER,  tho  eminent  estate  agents  and 
auctioneers.  It  came  about  in  this  way. 
I  and  my  friends  who  occupied  the  very 
best  parts  of  town — Belgravia  (North  and 
South),  Mayfair,  and  TJpham  Park  Road — 
had  seen  with  no  little  regret  that  our  pre- 
sence was  driving  away  possible  tenants. 
For  you  must  know,  boy,  that  at  heart  we 
ghosts  are  not  a  bad  lot." 

"  The  very  best  of  fellows !  "  exclaimed 
the  phantom  lad,  enthusiastically. 


"  It  may  be  so,"  I  admitted,  compla- 
cently. "  Well,  there  was  the  cavalier 
who  stabbed  his  lady  in  white  satin,  and 
the  Scotch  dame  who  came  out  of  her 
picture,  and  the  chap  who  woke  them  up 
with  raps." 

"  Slightly  vulgar,  the  chap  with  the 
raps."  said  the  juvenile  apparition. 

"Granted,"  I  again  acquiesced.  "And 
it  was  the  chap  with  the  raps  who 
caused  us  to  relent.  I  went  to  see  the 
house  agents,  and  found  them  very  decent 
neople.  They  were  a  little  frightened  at 
first,  but  I  put  them  at  their  ease  by  some 
pleasant  chaff." 

"And  everything  was  settled  satis- 
fartonlv?" 

"  Quite.  We  gave  up  the  other  houses 
on  condition  of  taking  this.  And  our  resi- 
dence here  hurts  no  one,  because  the  estate 
is  in  Chancerv." 

"I  see.  And  whst  has  become  of  the 
chnr>  with  the  raps  ?  " 

"Well.  I  scarcely  know;  but  from  what 
I  see  in  the  papers,  I  fancy  IIP,  must  be  the 
^riginato*'  of  thnt  immense  correspondence, 
'  On  the  Tr*il  of  a  Ghost.'  " 

"  And  will  he  keep  in  the  papers  lon<r9  " 

"I  should  think  so."  I  replied.  "For 
«'ich  »  fellow  's  the  right  man  in  tb°  rieht 
place  in  the  silly  season.  And  here  I  break 
off — with  the  break  of  day." 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 


An  T'nforfiainf.e,  asked  for  ".  rfescri'nf'tm  of  the 
Queen's  Jubilee  Procession,  explains. 

No  !  I  cannot  sing  of  the  Jubilee. 

Of  its  sheen,  and  glitter,  and  glare, 
Of  the  dointrs  of  High  nnd  Low  degree, 

By  the  token  I  wasn't  there  ! 
Fmm  the  crowded  streets  I  went  away 

To  a  villncre  thut  looks  on  the  sea, 
On  the  ch«lky  cliff  of  n  pebbly  bay, 

Where  I  spent  mv  Jubilee. 

OVr  this  sea-girt  village  the  «"a-gulls  flew 

With  their  wild  and  weirdlike  scream. 
But  the  grass  was  green  and  the   ocean 
blue. 

So  they  didn't  prevent  my  dream. 
I  dreamt  as  I  stretched  'neath  the  blazing 
sun 

Of  the  time  that  perhans  might  he, 
When   t  little   more   Love  was  said  —  and 
done 

The  time  of  the  Jubilee. 
I  do  not  complnin  of  the  wanton  wight 

Who  hroki»  all  my  dreim  to  bifs 
For  I  know  'tis  a  golfer's  chief  delight 

To  20  in  for  the  deftest  hit*. 
Bnt  I  did  obiect  when  from  forty  winks 

I  arose  with  a  head  so  sore, 
Because  T  didn't  know  whnt  were  "  T,i'nk«  " 

And  that  some  one  had  shouted  "  'Fore"  ! 
It  wasn't  pleasant,  that  hard,  white  ball 

That  struck  me  upon  the  cap. 
Oh  !  would  that  I  'd  heard  the  striker's  call 

Before  T  received  that  rap  ! 
Then  my  dream  was  dissolved  for  ever  and 
aye, 

As  I  fled  from  that  blessed  "Tee  "  ; 
And  mournful  I  thought  of  the  games  they 
play 

In  the  year  of  the  Jubilee  ! 


Can  it  be  true  ? 

Affable  Passenger  (to  'bus  driver).  What 
has  become  of  the  motor  cars? 

'Bits  Driver.  Well,  Sir,  I  'ave  'eard  as 
'ow  Mr.  WOMBW-ELI,  'ad  bought  'em  all  to 
cage  'is  beasts  in  at  the  Crystal  Palace  ; 
but  don't  think  I  speaks  from  jealousy. 


JUI,T  3,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


333 


THE    BEST    OF    THE    JOKE. 

Jonts  (who  has  been  taken  for  a  quiet  drire  by  Friend).   "WHAT  THE  DEUCB  IK  THKKE  TO  LAUGH  AT,  MAN?" 
friend  (roaring  vriOi  laughter).  "HA,  HA  !    THE  RASCAL  WHO  SOLD  MB  THB  COB,  HB— HE— LENT  ME  THE  CART  ! ' 


JUBILOPERA  NOTES. 

Wednesday,  June.  23. — The  night  of  the  season  at  the  Opera. 
Splendid !  How  it  would  have  rejoiced  the  heart  of  our  only  Sir 
DRURIOLANTJS  COVENTGARDENSIS,  could  he  have  heen  present  to 
see  how  thoroughly  those  educated  up  to  this  sort  of  business 
under  his  management  had  learnt  their  lesson  and  even  improved 
on  his  teaching.  It  was  the  crowning  triumph  by  Night  of  the 
Two  Days  Jubilee.  Everybody  was  there  to  be  seen  by  Every- 
body Else,  and  woe  be  to  Anybody's  friend  who  shall  say  to  Any- 
body, "Why,  I  didn't  see  you  there  !  "  Not  to  have  been  at  the 
Opera  on  the  great  night  argues  yourself  out  of  it.  And  Madame 
MELBA  was  there  ! !  This  admirable  rant  a  trice,  after  whom  there 
had  been  previously  so  many  kind  inquiries,  was  there,  if  not  in 
all  her  glory,  in  at  least  in  some  of  it,  with  a  bit  over  for  another 
night.  O  the  heat!  O  the  uniforms  1  O  the  entoosymoosy ! 
and  O  the  lovely  loyal  t  hirst  i ness !  O  the  dear  drought !  and  the 
still  dearer,  or  cheaper,  draught,  not  of  air.  but  of  liquid,  "  after 
the  Opera  was  over!!"  Ah!  Some  of  em  had  thirsts  they 
would  not  have  exchanged  for  the  biggest  diamonds  of  the  very 
first  Water, — unless  it  had  just  the  least  taste  in  life  of  some- 
thing mixed  with  it  I  Then  "came  the  sweetest  mossel 
of  the  night !  "  Resplendent,  happy  and  glorious,  appaared  our 
Princess  and  our  Prince !  and  mightily  enjoying  the  feast  of 
music  prepared  for  them  in  small  parcels,  sat  all  the  Royalties 
and  Attracting  Magnates  ;  while  the  great  officers  of  State  (in  such 
a  state,  too !  with  the  thermometer  at  ninety-five  degrees  in  the 
electric  light  shade,  if  any)  watched,  lynx-eyed,  yet  with  the 
gentle  winkiness  of  the  cooing  turtle-dove.  If  a  Royalty  felt 
faint,  Her  Royal  Highness  had  but  to  call  "Steward!"  and  at 
once  Lord  PEMBROKE  was  in  attendance.  Had  anyone  forgotten 
his,  or  her,  pocket-handkerchief,  or  mislaid  a  smelling-bottle, 
was  not  my  Lord  Chamberlain,  Lord  LATHOM,  G.C.B.,  on  the 
spot  with  everything  that  could  possibly  be  required?  Was  hia 
lordship,  too,  not  at  hand  to  answer  confidently,  and  correctly, 
any  questions  as  to  the  music,  as  to  the  singers,  as  to  the  history 
of  Opera  from  the  time  of  MARIO  and  GRISI  up  till  now  ? 


for  my  Lord  LATHOM  knows  his  Opera  by  heart,  and  could 
"musical  honours"  be  added  to  his  title,  then  to  his  "G.C.B." 
might  be  added  all  the  other  notes  of  the  octave.  Should 
any  distinguished  visitor  prefer  riding  to  driving  home  in 
the  cool  of  the  night,  "after  the  Opera  is  over,"  was  there 
not  his  Grace  of  PORTLAND  there  as  Master  of  the  Horse, 
ready  to  have  a  "  Gee "  round  at  the  door  before  you  could 
say  "  Gee-ruoalem  ? "  Then,  if  the  operatic  actors  went  at 
all  wrong  in  their  "  jeu  de  seine,"  was  there  not  Sir  G.  PONSONBY- 
KANK,  K.C.B.,  one  of  the  best  of  the  "old  stagers,"  to  rush  to 
the  wings  or  down  into  the  prompt-box,  put  'em  all  right,  and 
sing,  "  I  'm  Fane  to  tell  you  all  I  feel !  And  finally,  should 
anything  whatever  hare  been  required  by  any  of  the 
Great  Personages  then  present,  were  there  not  in  attend- 
ance, and  in  a  -  twenty  -  dance  for  the  matter  of  that,  all  "Tht 
Officers  of  the  Household"  in  " full  dress  with  trowsers,"  and 
therefore  ready,  aye  ready  to  run  out  at  a  second's  notice  and  do 
the  Royal  bidding  with  a  will  P  Chorus,  outside,  to  an  old  tune, 
"  How  did  you  get  your  trowsers  on  ?  And  do  they  hurt  you 
muchP"  O  the  Jubilee!  This  was  the  crowning  Night  effect, 
as  the  QCEBN'S  Garden  Party  will  be  the  crowning  Day 
effect  in  London,  while  before  that  comes  off  the  Naval 
Review  on  the  26th  will  have  been  the  crowning  Day  and  Night 
effect  at  sea.  Bravissimo,  Operatic  Committee !  Mr.  Punch,  dis- 
tributing his  Jubilee  honours,  says  to  Mr.  NEIL  FORSYTH.  "Kneel, 
FORSYTH!  Arise,  Sir  NEIL" — but  he  can't  do  both.  This  must 
be  thought  out.  En  attendant,  Vivat  Regina  ! 


The  Tartan  Epidemic. 

The  MacTavish  (very  angrily,  to  the  new  Boots  at  the  "Rising 
Sun").  Where,  by  St.  Andrew!  have  ye  planted  my  braw  new 
kilt  that  I  put  oot,  for  to  be  decently  brushed!  Green,  red, 
black  and  white  plaid. 

Boots  (after  search).  I  beg  pardon,  Sir,  but  the  chambermaid 
mistook  it  for  the  skirt  of  the  young  lady  in  No.  13.  But  you  've 
got  her  gown  ! 


334 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  3,  1897. 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED   FHUH   TUB   DIAUY   ur  Touv,  M.P 

House  uf  Commont,  Jdunday,  ./urn  '..'I. 
PRINCK  AHTUUK,  still  tanned  with  tue  toi 
ol  golf,  moved  resolution  preparatory  tt 
House  repairing  to  iluckiuguam  Palace  t< 
present  address  to  the  QUEEN  on  th< 
sixtieth  anniversary  ot  her  accession 
SQUIBB  or  MALWOOD  seconds  resolution  in 
tone  of  protound  emotion.  Then  DILLON 
and  REDMOND  aine  sprang  up,  straining 
like  hounds  in  leash  tor  first  place  in 
opposing  motion,  in  turn  made  towering 
speeches.  .Resolution  carried  by  enthu- 
siastic majority. 

Whole  business  did  not  occupy  more 
than  an  hour  and  a  half ;  but  it  had  curi- 
ously irritating  effect  upon  the  Membei 
tor  Sark. 

"Irish  opposition  in  PABNBLL'S  time 
was,"  he  growled,  "  bad  enough  in  its  way 
At  least,  it  was  concentrated  in  one  weh- 
defined  quarter,  guided  by  a  single  firm 
hand.  Now,  Irish  Nationalists  split  up 
into  sections,  the  long-suffering  of  the 
House  ia  not  only  lengtnened,  but  the  or- 
deal has  no  compensation,  iii  PABNELL'S 
time  we  had  for  pur  money  good  sharp 
fighting,  with  definite  purpose  and  orderea 
plan  behind  each  combatant.  .Now  we 
hght  the  air,  and  the  Irish  Members  fight 
each  other.  Take  the  case  of  REDMOND 
cadet  turning  up — 

" Order  1  order!"  I  said,  with  abrupt 
sternness  studied  from  several  Speakers. 
"  To  speak  of  an  hon.  Member  as  '  caddy ' 
is  not  Parliamentary.  Worse  still,  it  is 
not  English.  Of  course,  1  know  what  you 
mean.  Hut  suppose  you  wanted  to  de- 
scribe a  man  as  something  of  a  snob. 
Would  you  call  him  '  snobby '  H  " 

"Take  the  case  of  KEDMOND  cadet," 
&ARK  continued,  ignoring  my  remark, 
which  showed  it  was  unanswerable.  "  First 
of  ail,  we  have  JOHN  DILLON  issuing 
magniloquent  declaration  that  Irish  Mem- 
bers never,  never,  never  will  take  part  in 
the  Jubilee  celebration,  tor  which  the 
large  proportion  of  them  were  careful, 
availing  themselves  of  their  Parliamentary 
privileges,  to  obtain  free  seats.  Whilst 
lis  party  are  congratulating  themselves  on 
;his  stroke  of  leadership,  comforting  them- 
selves with  assurance  that  the  Red- 
mondites,  the  Healyites,  and  HARRINGTON, 
are  out  of  it  this  time,  KEDMOND  aine, 
icing  one  step  further,  as  dear  old  WALTEB 
SABTTELOT  used  to  say,  trumps  DILLON'S 
;ard  by  giving  notice  of  a  bombastic 
amendment  to  the  Address  congratulating 
HEH  MAJESTY.  Thursday  last,  when  the 
House  met  after  the  VVhitsun  Recess, 
seemed  to  be  TIM  HEALT'S  opportunity. 
But  TIM  tarries  in  Ireland,  and  REDMOND 
cadet,  romping  in,  got  the  advertisement 
iheet  on  the  Parliamentary  reports  all  to 
ijmself.  Same  kind  of  thing  goes  on  to- 
night and  all  through  the  Session.  Where 
n  current  debate  one  Irish  Member  used 
;o  speak,  we  have  now  at  least  three  ora- 
tions. So  is  our  last  state  worse  than  our 
first." 

Business  done-  —  Agreed  to  present 
Jubilee  congratulations  to  the  QUEEN. 

Friday.  —  The  view  of  CAP'EN  TOMMY 
BOWLES  is  not  bounded  by  the  Bosphorus. 
He  counts  the  SULTAN  as  a  personal  friend, 
to  some  extent  a  protege.  On  the  occasion 
of  his  visit  to  Yildiz  Kiosk,  the  Im- 
perial host  showed  a  memorable  gift  of 
distinguishing  character.  To  BASHMEAD- 
ARTLETT,  also  making  a  morning  call,  he 
tossed  the  glittering  Medjidieh.  Recog- 


nising the  finer  nature  of  the  CAP'EN,  h 
shared  with  him  the  pure  delights  of  i 
private  concert.  The  SULTAN  may  be  lack 
mg  in  some  of  the  better  qualities  o 
humanity.  Evidently  he  is  a  consummati 
judge  of  men. 

Chumming  with  the  SULTAN  would  bi 
enough  for  some  men.  It  does  not  preven 
the  Old  Salt  from  supervising  the  CZAB 
Serving  in  Committee  on  Public  Accounts 
the  eagle  eye,  that  in  the  forties  was 
known  to  pierce  the  densest  wall  of  fog 
silently  building  itself  up,  bulwarking  the 
coast  of  Newfoundland,  discovered  a  little 
job.  When  the  late  CZAB  died,  he  left  in 
custody  of  the  Bank  of  England  a  trifle  of 
over  £200,000.  Death  Duty  payable  on 
this  exceeded  £13,000.  CAP'EN  TOMMY, 
''  overhauling  the  wollum,"  as  bidden  by  an 
old  shipmate  whose  soul  long  since  went 
aloft,  discovered  this  money  had  nevei 
been  paid. 

In  Committee  of  Supply,  TOMMY  brought 
whole  matter  to  light  of  day.  SQTTUIE  OF 


Mr.  Speaker  and  Toby,  M.P.,  review  the 
Fleet  at  Spithead  ! 


was  Chancellor  of  Exchequer 
when  the  affair  was  squared.  Looking 
across  at  the  CAP'EN,  watching  the  con- 
vincing sweep  of  his  terrible  hooked  arm, 
.he  SQUIBE  concluded  best  thing  he  could 
do  was  to  make  clean  breast  of  whole 
matter,  charging  it  to  "  the  comity  of  na- 
tions." This  phrase  had  marvellous  effect 
on  Committee  inclined  to  be  suspicious. 
klore  blessed  than  Mesopotamia.  Scotch 
Hembers  particularly  pleased,  recognising 
-ardy  acceptance  of  favoured  pronuncia- 
ion.  CALDWELL  always  speaks  of  "the 
Jomity  of  Supply,"  or  "the  Comity  of 
tVays  and  Means."  Was  going  to  make  a 
peech  or  two  on  this  find  hooked  up  by 
he  CAP'EN.  But  so  pleased  to  hear 
OP  MALWOOD  dropping  into  Scotch 
hat  he  refrained. 

So    "Comity   of   Nations"    carried  the 

lay.     SQUIBE   left  the  House   without   a 

tain  on  his  character.    All  the  same,  it  is 

elt  that  as  long  as  the  CAP'EN  sits  up  aloft 

watching  over  the  Treasury,  there  will  be 

no  more  remission  of  Death  Duties  to  the 

dvantage  of  heirs  of  deceased  potentates. 

Business  done.  —  In  "Comity"  of  Supply. 

R.M.S.  Teutonic,   Spithead,   Saturday. 

—  Parliament    adjourned   for   the    Solent. 

Everybody  here,  from  the  SPEAKEB  to  the 

newest  Member,  from  the  latest  Peer  to 


the  L,UKD  CUA.NCBLLUH.  Alter  the  vision  ol 
glory  the  eye  has  been  puvilegcd  to  rest 
upon  through  tue  week,  uue  itels  quite 
awed  to  j>ee  HALSBUU*  111  seige  suit,  tail 
shoes,  and  a,  yachting  cap.  Uimcult  to 
beiievo  it  la  tne  sumo  peiooii  we  saw  ut 
ISuckinghaiu  Palace  ou  \veuiiesday,  en- 
velopeu  m  robes  of  State,  plump  oil 
knees  lii-iuiu  his  Sovereign,  to  whom  ue 
brought  tue  congratulatory  address  or  tue 
Peers.  Wish  there  had  been  more  people 
to  behold  the  spectacle,  'iue  procession  on 
Jubilee  Day  was  well  euougii  in  its  way. 
HUD  11  you  want  to  impress  loreigners  witu 
tuo  rnignt  and  majesty  of  tfce  Empire,  they 
snouid  see  liord  HALHBUUY  in  nis  (State 
robes.  At  least,  that's  wiiat  SAKK  says, 
and  what  he  doesn't  know,  isn't  wortu 
taking  account  of. 

SARK,  by  tne  way,  has  come  out  a  first- 
class  seafaring  person,  lo  see  him  walking 
the  deck  you  would  think  he  was  born  111 
the  loretop.  in  tact,  only  yesterday  ue 
was  taken  lor  the  pilot.  Steaming  here 
troin  .Liverpool,  we  ran  into  a  tog  ott  Start 
Point.  Couldn't  see  anything  two  cables 
off.  (Don't  know  how  niucii  a  cable  is. 
suppose  they  ditier  in  length  according  to 
price  ;  but  at  sea  we  always  measure  things 
oy  a  cable's  length.;  a  og-hom  blowing ; 
engines  slowed;  suarp  look-out  tore  and 
art.  SA&K  standing  on  larboard  side  look- 
ing out  with  air  of  wisdom  the  longest 
cable  aboard  ship  could  not  fatnom.  Up 
came  one  of  the  pretty  girls  wiio  decorate 
tne  Teutonic  ana  touched  him  lightly  oil 
tne  arm. 

"  Where  are  we  now,  pilot  ?  "  she  asked. 
"  Still  in  the  tog,  Miss,"  he  answered ; 
and  she  went  ott,  reassured  by  his  manly 
presence,    his    unfaltering    tone,    as    he 
fronted  a  situation  not  without  peril. 

J)'og  lifted,  disclosing  long  lanes  of  battle- 
ships all  flying  the  British  nag.  A  pretty 
snow  on  Tuesday,  when  all  tne  ends  of  the 
earth  sent  their  contingents  ot  soldiers, 
lorming  part  of  the  army  of  the  yuEEN. 
i'o-day  completes  the  object  lesson  tor 
whom  it  may  concern.  Overheard  SABK 
jelling  the  pretty  girl  (who  still  believes 
he's  the  pilot)  that  no  two  other  naval 
powers  clubbing  their  resources  could 
make  such  a  show.  Even  the  Teutonic,  in 
ordinary  times  a  peaceful  Transatlantic 
steamer,  comes  out  as  an  armed  cruiser, 
showing  sharp,  white  teeth  in  the  shape  of 
eight  Nordenfelt  and  eight  quick-tiring 
;uns,  capable  of  doing  as  much  damage  to 
:he  enemy  as  a  whole  armament  of  the 
Victory  in  NELSON'S  time. 

When  you  come  to  think  of  it,  this  not 
:he  least  striking  feature  in  the  unique 
display.  Admiral  of  the  WTiite  Star  Fleet, 
.SMAY,  tells  me  it  did  not  take  more  than 
"orty-eight  hours  to  transform  the  mighty 
mail  steamer  into  an  armed  cruiser. 

Business  done-  —  Done  our  duty  at 
dinner  and  luncheon  as  England  expected 
of  us. 


Jubilee  Jotting. 

(By  a  Purist. ) 

the  most  illogical  of  lands ! — 
The   Jubilee  Seats  were  commonly  called 
"  Stands  "  I 

NOTE  BY  A  PHILOSOPHER. — When  a  man's 
ortune  has  gone  to  ducks  and  drakes,  it 
s  generally  the  ducks  who  have  acquired 
most  of  the  golden  grain. 

A  VETERAN  SAILOR  OF  '37. — Jack  of  the 
'  have-beens  "-talk. 


JULY  :5,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


335 


HONOURS  DIVIDED. 

(A  Thiiui/ht  tin  Jubilee  A<y. ) 

TUB  Force  of  the  Kmpire  was  mustered  to-day  ; 

But  amidst  gorgeous  .sold ion  and  glorious  horses, 
\\.-  niiiit  not  forget,  Punch  will  venture  to  .MI), 

I'ho  plainest,  but  not  the  least  proud,  of  our  Forces. 
"  Force  is  no  remedy  ?  "     That 's  as  may  be. 

But  "  the  force,"  for  prevention,  of  nsk  to  our  city, 
In   ill  this  huge  jostling  of  great  Jubilee, 

Did  a  wonderful  wort  to  forget  which  were  pity. 
'Hi.'  soldiers  and  sailors  went  striding  along  ; 

To  be  drawn  to  injustice  by  glitter  were  snobby. 
So  let 's  make  division  of  praise  from  the  throng 

Between  General  "  Bobs,"  and  the  general  "Bobby." 


MY  AUNTS  AND  THE  JUBILEE. 

June  1. — Most  unfortunate.  Last  winter  promised  my  mater- 
nal aunt  JANE  to  escort  her  to  see  the  Jubilee  Procession.  Good 
old  lady,  good  old  house  in  Devonshire,  good  old  port  in  cellars, 

g)od  old  sum  in  nice,  safe  Consols,  and  so  on.  Could  I  refuse  ? 
ut  shortly  after,  my  paternal  aunt  ELEANOR  also  desired  me  to 
escort  her  to  the  Procession.  Rather  sour  old  lady,  gloomy  old 
house  in  Bath,  only  teetotal  drinks  in  cellar,  but  many  thousands 
in  Home  Rails.  Weakly  agreed. 

June  2. — Must  secure  three  seats.  Aunt  JANE,  stout,  always 
warm,  has  written  that  she  must  sit  in  the  shade.  Aunt 
KI.KANOK,  thin,  always  cold,  says  in  this  weather  she  piefers  the 
sun.  Can  I  put  one  on  north  side  of  Strand,  one  on  uuth 
side,  and  myself  on  church  in  the  middle?  Uardly.  Neither 
would  sit  alone. 

June  5. — After  seeing  innumerable  plans  and  innumerable 
seats,  have  at  last  secured  three  on  a  stand,  so  placed,  thai 
Aunt  KI.KANOK  at  the  end  will  get  the  sunshine  on  her  rheumatic 
right  shoulder  till  one  o'clock,  Aunt  JANE  being  entirely  in  the 
shade .  That 's  settled. 

•I  U.M.  8. — Letter  trom  Aunt  ELEANOR.  Will  on  no  account 
venture  to  sit  in  any  wooden  erection  likely  to  catch  fire.  Letter 
from  Aunt  JANE.  Cannot  occupy  seat  on  any  temporary  struc- 
ture which  might  possibly  collapse.  Start  again.  Dispose  of 
three  seats  at  considerable  loss.  After  great  search  discover 
small  corner  room  in  solid,  fire-proof  building,  with  large 
northern  window  taken  put,  and  small  eastern  window  to  admit 
sunshine.  Aunt  JANE  will  no  doubt  require  this  window  opened, 
causing  a  draught  highly  detrimental  to  Aunt  ELEANOR'S  rheun,  i- 
tism,  neuralgia,  and  chronic  catarrh,  and  Aunt  ELEANOR  will 
demand  that  it  be  shut,  with  the  blind  up,  a  state  of  things 
likely  to  produce  apoplexy,  or  sunstroke,  or  cerebral  congestion 
in  Aunt  .1  AN  t: ;  but  I  can  do  no  more. 

June  10. — Aunt  ELEANOR  writes  that  she  cannot  bear  the 
noi.se,  draughts  and  excitement  of  a  London  hotel,  and  will  there- 
fore stay  at  Richmond.  Aunt  JANE  writes  that  she  wishes  to  be 
at  the  coolest  part  of  Norwood.  Secure  rooms  for  them. 

June  II. — Letter  from  Aunt  JANE.  She  quotes  leader  in 
Times  of  yesterday,  warning  seat-holders  of  every  possible 
danger.  Was  afraid  she  would  see  it.  It  refers  to  excitement, 
early  rising,  anxious  and  fatiguing  journey,  iiuperlect  provision 
of  food,  possibility  of  fainting,  delay  in  gettin ->  uway,  instability 
of  si. .ads,  danger  of  fire,  risks  of  smoking,  removal  of  shavings 
under  scats,  and  need  of  restoratives.  She  wants  to  know  wnat 
time  she  will  have  to  start.  Try  to  reckon  it  out  with  help  of 
Times  article.  If  seat-holders  driving  a  distance  usually  covered 
in  twenty  minutes  must  start  at  5.30,  at  what  time  must  anyone 
start  from  Norwood  to  drive  to  the  Strand  P  Evidently  not  later 
than  midnight.  Good  heavens  I  And  here 's  a  letter  from  Aunt 
ELKANOB..  She  writes  that  she  has  just  seen  an  article  in  the 
Times.  Of  course  she  has.  And  she  wants  to  know  when  she  will 
have  to  start.  By  Jove,  yes!  Richmond.  That's  soon  calcu- 
lated. About  8  P.M.  Say  immediately  after  dinner.  Answer 
both  letters  as  cheerfully  as  I  can. 

June  19. — Have  made  all  necessary  arrangements  at  last.  Aunt 
JANE  supposes  that  it  may  be  possible  to  leave  safely  about  six 
hours  alter  the  procession  has  passed.  Aunt  ELEANOR  would 
prefer  to  dine  in  our  hired  room,  as  she  evidently  cannot  reach 
Richmond  till  breakfast  time  the  next  day. 

June  21. — Have  stoiod  in  room  large  quantities  of  tinned 
:it.s,  biscuits,  wine,  lemonade,  mineral  waters,  Ac.  Also  re- 
storatives of  various  kinds. 

June  22.— The  great  day.  Up  at  4.30.  Start  at  5.30,  with 
luncheon  and  dinner  packed  in  hampers  Expect  to  reach 
Strand  at  eight.  Arrive  there  at  6.10.  Something  wrong  in 


HEREDITY. 

Fond  Parent.  "WELL,  WE  WANTED  TO  GIVE  'm  A  CHAWNCE,  AND 

WA8   'AVIN'   'ill    TRAINED    FOR   A   BUTTERMAN,    WHEN  WOT    DOES   THE 

BEGGAR  DO  BUT  CHUCKS  IT,  AND  SAYS  AS  IT  's 
AS  'is  'EART  WAS  IN  I  " 


calculations.  Aunts  not  come  yet.  Of  course  not.  Wait 
patiently.  At  eight  become  anxious.  At  8.30  very  anxious. 
At  nine  desperate.  What  can  have  happened?  Surely  thirteen 
hours  from  Richmond  should  suffice.  My  calculations  were  based 
on  Times  article.  Can  they  have  mistaken  the  number  of  the 
house  ?  Rush  out.  Obliged  to  go  into  side  streets.  Continue 
search.  Suddenly  hear  cheering.  Good  heavens,  it  '9  the  pro- 
cession !  Can't  get  back.  Remain  behind  crowd.  See  nothing. 
Tremendous  final  cheer.  Then  people  slowly  disperse,  and  at 
twelve  o'clock  walking  in  streets  is  quite  easy,  and  I  stroll  sadly 
home.  No  news  of  aunts. 

June  23. — Letter  from  Aunt  JANE  :  Left  Norwood  at  midnight. 
Arrived  in  Strand  at  1.15  A.M.  House  shut  up.  Nowhere  to  go. 
At  last  drove  back  to  Norwood,  much  annoyed  at  bad  arrange- 
ments. Letter  from  Aunt  ELEANOR  :  Left  Richmond  at  8  P.M. 
on  Monday.  Arrived  in  Strand  at  9.30  P.M.  Room  locked  up; 
could  not  remain  in  carriage  all  night ;  nowhere  to  go.  At  last 
drove  back  to  Richmond.  Had  not  expected  that  any  nephew 
of  hers  would  annoy  her  with  vulgar  practical  jokes,  and  need 
not  express  her  opinion  of  such  conduct. 


MB.  DOUGLASS,  the  Athenmtm  informs  us,  "finds  from  his 
observations"  that  "Jupiter's  fourth  satellite,  aa  well  as  his 
third,  rotates  on  its  own  axis  in  about  the  same  time  as  it  occu- 
pies in  revolving  round  the  planet."  What  capital  exercise,  or 
axisizel  Except  perhaps  a  nde  on  the  switchback,  there  can  be 
nothing  to  equal  the  delights  enjoyed  by  the  third  and  fourth 
satellite.  It  is  sad  to  think  that  those  two  satellites,  attached 
to  such  an  old  monarchy  as  that  of  Jupiter,  should  be  such 
thorough  revolutionists. 


33G 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  3,  1897. 


§ 


•A. 


A    GREAT    "TOUR    DE    'FORCE.'" 


MR.  PUNCH,  UNIVERSAL  PUBLIC  COMMISSIONER,  ON  BEHALF  OP  EVERYBODY  GENERALLY,  AND  OF  "  THE  SPINDLE  SIDE  " 
PARTICULARLY,  HEARTILY  COMPLIMENTS  THE  METROPOLITAN  AND  ClTY  POLICE,  UNDER  SlR  EDWARD  BRADFORD,  G.C.B.,  COLONEL 
HENRY  SMITH,  K.O.B.,  AND  MR.  REGINALD  BRETT,  C.B.,  THE  CLEVER  "HEADS  OF  THE  POLICE,"  ON  THEIR  ADMIRABLE  ARRANGE- 
MENTS FOR  FACILITATING  TRAFFIC  AND  PRESERVING  ORDER  IN  THE  STREETS  OF  LONDON,  SO  SUCCESSFULLY  CARRIED  OUT  BY  ALL  THE 
CONSTABULARY  ON  JUBILEE  DAY,  JUNE  22. 


OUR  COLONIAL  "COMRADES"  AT  THE 
LYCEUM. 

•"  [At  the  special  invitation  of  Sir  HENRY  IRVING, 
the  Colonial  troops  in  London  for  the  Jubilee  at- 
tended a  performance  of  The  Bells  and  A  Story  of 
Waterloo  at  the  Lyceum  on  June  26.] 

WELL  changed,  Sir  HENRY  !     "  Comrades  " 

was  the,  word. 
"  Ladies    and    gentlemen "   seemed   too 

punctilious. 
Few  things  more  striking  have  been  seen  or 

heard 

In  all  this  jocund  time  of  joy  Jubilious, 
Than  Corporal  Brewster,  drawn  by  CONAN 

DOYLB. 

And  played  by  HENRY  IRVING  to  "  Our 

Boys" 

From  over-sea.  What  charm  it  lends  to  toil 
When  such  an  audience  admires,  enjoys  i 
A  Story  of  Waterloo,  told  to  a  crowd 
Of    such    Colonial  "Comrades,"  was    a 

thing 

To  hear,  see,  and  remember.  Did  one  proud 
To  mark  those  stalwart  fellows  rise  and 
sing 


God  save  the  Queen  together!     CHAMBER- 
LAIN 
Doubtless   enjoyed  his   portion    of  the 

cheering, 

As  did  the  moving  actor.    Scarce  again 
To   such  a   "  house "  will  either  be  ap- 
pearing. 

A  grand  occasion,  met  in  style  deserving 
Of  Art,  such  "  Comrades,"  and  Sir  HENRY 
IRVING  ! 


HER  PEOPLE'S  REPLY 

(To  the  Queen's  Jubilee  Message.     Voiced  by 
Mr.  Punch). 

["The  QUEEN' B  Message  to  the  Bmpire  reached 
Australia,  India,  and  the  furthermost  parts  of  the 
globe  before  the  QUEEN  had  (merged  from  Buck- 
ingham Palace." — Daily  Chronicle.'] 

FROM  heart  to  heart  I    O'er  land  and  sea 
That  message  flies,  like  Peace's  dove  I 

Where'er  your  world-spread  people  he, 
Knit  to  large  unity  by  Love, 

Swifter  than  SHAKSPEARE'S  sprite  could  run, 

They  answer  promptly,  and  as  One  ! 


Like  Ariel,  "  ere  your  pulse  twice  bent," 
Love  ''  drinks  the  air,"  and  so  returns 

To  lay  our  message  at  your  feet. 

From  heart  to  heart  the  message  burns, 

As  warmly  'midst  the  northern  snows 

As  where  the  tropic  sun-blaze  glows. 

From  every  race,  and  from  all  ranks, 
Round  the  great  globe  where  floats  your 
flag, 

Responsive  to  your  royal  thanks, 

From  hearts  and  lips  that  will  not  lag, 

Fly  thanks  as  loyal.     Thanks,  great  QUEEN, 

For  all  you  are,  and  long  have  been ! 

Thanks  for  Imperial  service  high, 

And  thanks  for  simple  hearth-side  grace, 

For  patriot  zeal,  for  purity. 

Womanly  sweetness  in  high  place, 

And  the  strong  heart  that  ne'er  did  fall, 

Though  duty  danger-clad  might  call. 

Thanks  from  our  hearts,  beloved  QUEEN, 
God's  blessings  crown  your  future  days! 

Still  may  you  be,  as  you  have  been. 

The  theme  of  world-wide  love  and  praise. 

A  proud,  free  people  bow  the  knee 

To  womanly  worth  and  genuine  royalty ! 


PUNCH,    OR   THK   LONDON   CHAKIVAIU..     JUI.T  3,   1897. 


.. 


THE   QUEEN'S   MESSENGER! 


"  FROM  MY  HEART  I  THANK  MY  BELOVED  PEOPLE.  MAY  OOD  BLESS  THEM.  V.  R.  AND  I." 

(JUNE  22,  1897.) 
"  I  'LL  PUT  A  OIRDLG  ROUND  ABOUT  THK  EARTH."— Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 


JULT  3,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


339 


Verdant  Green  Horn,  Esq.  "  I  DON'T  LIKE  HIS  HEAD."         Old  Flatcatcher.  "HEAD!    You  DON'T  RIDE  ON  THEIR  HEADS,  DO  TOO?" 


THE  YOUNG  FOLKS  AT  HOME. 

(DIAMOND  JUBILEE  VERSION.) 
AIR—"  The  Old  Folks  at  Borne." 

'WAY  home,  from  many  a  lake  and  river, 

Far,  far  away, 
To  where  your  hearts  are  turning  ever, 

Greet  the  Old  Folks  to-day  I 
Though  up  and  down  the  wide  creation 

Gladly  you  roam, 
Still  clinging  to  the  mother  nation, 

And  to  the  Old  Folks  at  Home  1 

All  our  hearts  are  proud  and  cheery, 

Glad  that  you  should  come. 
Here  's  welcome  that  should  never  weary, 

Hail  to  the  Young  Folks  at  Home ! 

Though  round  our  little  world  you  wander, 

Brave,  bold  and  young ; 
We  of  our  Young  Folks  grow  but  fonder, 

Close-knit  by  blood  and  tongue. 
Here  sundered  brother  meets  with  brother, 

Happy  and  spry, 
All  welcome  to  the  proud  Old  Mother ! 

Friends  let  us  live  and  die  I 

All  our  hearts,  &c. 

Though  scattered  far  on  plains  and  bushes, 

Our  boys  we  love ; 
Old  kinship  o'er  our  memory  rushes, 

No  matter  where  you  rove. 
We  're  glad  at  heart  to  hail  your  coming, 

Come,  Young  Folks,  come! 
While  all  the  land  with  joy  is  humming 

Down  in  your  good  Old  Home  I 

All  the  land  is  proud  and  cheery 

Glad  that  ynu.  should  come  ! 
Here 's  welcome,  hearty,  warm,  unweary , 

Hail  to  the  Young  Folks  at  Home  1 


APPROPRIATE    NAME    FOR    THE    LITTLE 
ENOLANDER. — The  scuttle-fish. 


THE  COMPLETE  WRANGLER. — A  mother- 
in-law. 


WHAT  TO  DO  WITH  SOME  OF  THE 
JUBILEE  DECORATIONS. 

Send  them  to  Foreign  Parts,  where  they 
would  be  greatly  appreciated. 


TO  A  GENERAL  FAVOURITE. 

PETITE,  perhaps,  but  charming — quite—- 
And beautifully  dressed, 

One  always  meets  you  with  delight 
At  parties  round  the  West. 

The  cynosure  of  neighbouring  eyes, 

The  hostess's  trump  card. 
You  hold  the  undisputed  prize 

Of  man's  sincere  regard. 

Your  aspect  is  serene  and  cool, 

Though  crowds  have  round  you  crushed — 
If  one  may  state  a  general  rule, 

One  will  not  see  you  flushed. 

And  if ,  as  I  'vo  heard  people  say, 

Too  oft  they  find  you  cold, 
The  warmth  which  you  sometimes  display 

Affords  them  joy  twofold. 

What  praise,  wherever  you  are  found, 

Night  after  night  you  win ! 
And  oh  I  when  supper-time  comes  round, 

How  sweet  to  take  you  in  I 

You  need  no  bard  your  praise  to  pen, 

Your  fame  will  never  fail ; 
'Tis  yours  to  "fly  through  the  mouths  of 
men,"* 

Because  you  are — a  quail! 

•  ENXIUS. — "  Volito  virtu  per  ora  virtHH." 


TWO  WOKDB  WHICH  RHYMED  UNPLEA- 
SANTLY WITH  SKAT  SPECULATORS  ON  THE 
JUBILEE  DAY. — "Slump"  and  "hump." 


JUBILEE  FIREWOOD. — Jubilee  seats. 


340 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


JULY  3,  1897. 


THE    JOYS    OF   TOURING. 

First  Cyclists.  "WELL,  YOU  DIDN'T  ESCAPE  A  DUCKING,  ALTHOUGH  YOU  DID  RIDE  AWAY  AND  LEAVE  "us  IN  THE  LUHCH." 
Second  Cyclists.   "No  ;  BUT  ws  HOT  THS  PICK  OF  TBS  CLOTH  es!" 


DUE  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

NOVEL  readers,  aweary  of  the  clacking  in  the  kail-yard,  will 
turn  aside  from  The  Lady  Grange  (SMITH,  ELDER)  if  they  know 
the  scene  is  laid  among  Scotch  folk.  Wherein,  my  Baronite  tells 
me,  they  will  make  a  grave  mistake.  The  story  dates  back  to 
1753,  when  Scotland  was  seething  in  rebellion.  Mr.  ALEX- 
ANDER INNES  SHAND  manages,  by  what  seems  exceedingly  simple 
art,  to  reproduce  the  very  men,  even  the  atmosphere  of  the 
times.  His  study  of  that  hoary  but  fascinating  villain,  SIMON 
Lord  LOVAT,  is  an  admirable  portraiture.  So  are  the  drawings  of 
Lord  GRANGE  and  his  shrewish  wife,  whose  punishment  is  the 
thread  on  which  the  story  hangs.  Incidentally  there  are  some 
powerful  word-pictures  of  the  uttermost  Highlands  and  the  least- 
frequented  islands  of  Scotland.  Altogether  a  picturesque  book, 
of  keen  human  interest. 

My  Baronite  is  not  familiar  with  the  name  of  MAY  SINCLAIR, 
and  is  not  sure  whether  Audrey  Craven  (BLACKWOOD)  is  a  first 
essay  in  novel  writing.  It  has  about  it  some  marks  of  the  inex- 
perienced hand.  But  it  is  full  of  promise,  and  displays  even 
exuberant  power. 

The  Story  of  a  Billiard-Sail  (SAXON  &  Co.)  is  one  with  a  pur- 
pose. Mr.  MOUNTENEY  JEPHSON,  STANLEY'S  companion-in-arms 
in  the  search  for  EMIN  PACHA,  desires  to  bring  home  to  the 
public  mind  the  horrors  and  iniquities  of  the  slave-raiding  which 
goes  on  in  Africa  to  this  day  in  connection  with  the  hunting  up 
of  ivory.  It  is  a  pitiful  tale,  recalling  some  passages  in  Uncle 
Tom's  Cabin.  Mr.  JEPHSON  knows  what  he  is  writing  about, 
and,  scarcely  less  essential,  knows  how  to  write.  The  story  is 
told  with  a  simplicity  that  adds  much  to  its  force  and  effect. 

• THE  BARON  DE  B.-W. 

"  A  SIMPLE  INQUIRER  "  writes  :  — "  Among  recent  advertise- 
ments and  notices  of  '  Jubilee  Music '  I  see  advertised  '  The 
Proper  Psalms.'  Are  there  any  Improper  Psalms  ?  I  hope  not; 
but  if  there  are,  I  trust  they  will  never  be  made  public,  but  rele- 
gated strictly  to  the  Secret  Service  Department. 


ONE  OF  THE   "LAST  KNIGHTS." 

"  SQUIRE  BANCROFT  BANCROFT,"  that 's  our  old  friend's  name  ; 
Now  as  "  Sir  SQUIRE  BANCROFT"  is  known  to  fame. 
Rarely  ere  this  has  such  a  thing  been  done, 
A  Squire  and  a  Knight  rolled  into  one  I ! 


Even  amid  General  Rejoicing. 

Mr.  Timnius  (at  the  bar  of  the  "Pig  and  Parsley,"  to  Mr. 
SIMNIUS).  Well !  here  's  health  and  happiness ! 

Mr.  Simnius  (who  has  lived  for  a  fortnight  on  multitudinous 
whiskies  and  scanty  biscuits).  Health  I  never  had,  and  happiness 
has  long  departed,  but  still  I  '11  drink  with  you,  TIMNIUS. 


IN  the  Cornhill  there  is  a  paper  by  Mr.  HARTLEY  WITHERS, 
entitled,  "  How  to  Scan  a  Prospectus."  Very  good ;  but  if  it  is 
not  a  poetic  Prospectus  or  a  Prospectus  in  verse,  how  can  it  be 
"  scanned "  ?  Perhaps  our  Withers  will  be  unwrung  by  this 
critical  query.  

On  the   Course. 

Angelina.  What  do  they  mean,  dear,  by  the  Outside  Ring? 
Edwin.  Oh  I  that 's  the  place  where  we  always  back  outsiders. 
A  splendid  institution  I 

[So  it  was  till  EDWIN  fell  among  gentlemen  from  Wales. 


ANGLO-TEUTONIC  JOKE  (from  the  Irrepressible,  released  during 
the  rejoicings).  Count  SECOND-OFF  looked  so  magnificent  in  the 
Jubilee  procession  that  most  spectators  backed  him  for  Furst 
place.  

WHAT  SOME  OF  THE  NATIONALISTS  WOULD  HAVE  us  TO  BELIEVE. — 
That  Ireland  is  a  County-Down  trodden  country. 


JOLT  3,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


341 


A  BERLIN  I  log 

Abyssinian  Maid  (The).  Ill 

Academic  Discussion.  78 

Adam  and  an  Apple,  63 

Adelphi  Terriss  Al,  and  Adelphi'd  Susan, 

80 

AdviM-tispmi'iits  for  the  Million,  208 
After  the  Estimates  are  over,  97 
Alladln  at  the  Lane,  23 
"Alone  in  London,"  177 
America  Day  by  Day,  6S 
Anglo-American  family  Tree  (The),  81) 
Annual  Greeting  in  Common  Form  (The), 

Another  Jubilee  Suggestion,  267 

Arms-bearer's  Vade  Mecum  (The),  165 

Army  Candidate's  Tade  Hecnm  (The),  16 

'Arry  on  Diamond  Jubilee  Charity,  &c.,  160 

An  of  Reviewing  (The),  76 

As  you  were  !  141 

At  a  Wedding,  P4 

At  Burlington  House,  !S7 

At  Kiralfy's  Victorian  Bra  Show,  267 

At  the  Hunt  Ball,  07 

Anguste  en  Angleterre,  10.  1?.  29,  (it,  73, 
118,  148,  153,  184.  245,  287,  348 

BALLADE  of  Chimney  Pots  (A).  >•>  I 

Banner  and  the  Beacon  (The),  3  4 

Bar  to  the  Bar  (A),  189 

Bicycling  Ballade  (A).  248 

Billet  from  Quern  Bess  (A),  99 

Bird  Story  (A),  41 

Birthday  Honours,  276 

Black  Care  behind  the  Auto-Horseman,  4 

Blnndin,  114 

"  Bonos  dies,  Sir  Toby  ! "  284 

Brussels  Barricaded,  196 

Byronic  Afterthoughts,  258 

Byronical,  102 

CALL  from  Arms  (A),  69 

"  Candid  Friend's  Oulde  "  (The),  197 

Canine  Hsgaclty,  36 

Case  of  Identity  (A).  830 

Caviare  to  the  General.  30 

Centenary  of  the  Top-Hat  (The),  88 

Change  of  Air.  198 

Channel  Barometer  (The)  1S6 

"Chap  with  the  Raps"  (The),  882 

Charity  at  Home,  241 

Chelsea  Reach,  243 

"Chemistry  of  Tea"  (The),  105 

"Church  and  State."  269 

Cinderella  (very  much  up-to-date),  12 

Clear  Evidence,  165 

Column  of  Fate  (The).  IS 

"Comiass'd  by  the  Inviolate  Sea,  '  805 

Compensation  Balance  (A),  265 

Compleat  Angler  (The),  11 

Concerning  Palmistry,  121 

Oonlldence  for  Confidence,  66 

"  Consult!  Biliotti."  148 

Crewa  on  the  River  (The),  187 

Crusoe's  Island  Missing.  38 

Curious  Correspondence  47 

DARBY  Jones  considers  Kempton,  240 

Darby  Junes  on  Ai-cot.  880 

Darby  Jones  on  Gambling  and  the  Grand 
National,  166 

Darby  Jones  on  the  Derby,  278 

Darhy  Jones  redivlvus,  147 

Darby  Jones  refers  to  the  "Two  Thou- 
sand," 217 

Daring  M.P.'s  Phrase-Book  (The),  238 

Deceived  and  Deceiver,  88 

Diamond  Jubilee  (The),  2.12 

Diary  of  an  Intelligent  Foreigner,  270 

Diversions  of  Jubilee  Day  (The),  296 


Dogged'Gratitnde,  88 

Doing  the  Tower,  2JO 

(Douglas)  Straight  Tip  (A),  850 

Dr.  Nansen'H  Shirt.  88 

Duellist's  V».le  Mecum  (The),  »5 

Duet  of  Ex-Chancellors  (A),  106 

During  the  Recess,  201 

KAR  and  the  Voice  on  the  Transvaal,  16 

taster  Problem  (The),  178 

Effect  of  the  Motor-Car  (The),  89 

Egoist  Echoes,  89 

Elections  of  the  Future  (The),  17 

Elementary,  99 

England's  Peaceful  Mission,  153 

Essence  of  Parliament,  59,  71,  88,  95,  107, 

119,  143,  166,  167,  179,  191,  203,  228,  238, 

261,  263,  275,  286,  3C6,  334 
Exasperation  I  265 
Excursions  In  Verse.  117,  126 
Experiences  of  a  French  Phantom,  204 
Explanation  (An),  181 
Extremes  Meet,  V«.  308,  310 
FERULE  of  Fame  (The),  11 
Flying  Visits,  274 

For  and  against  the  Chimney-pot  Hat,  282 
''  Forgive  and  Forget,"  67 
For  his  Shandy  Volume,  £5 
Fortified  London,  76 
Founded  on  Fact,  86 
Free  Translations,  12 
From  a  Clerical  Diary,  45 
From  North  to  South.  183 
From  the  Log  of  a  Log-roller,  M 
GAME  of  Adverbs  (The).  256,  268 
"Gander's  Holiday,"  14i 
Go.  Jingo,  go  I  68 
Gold  in  Liverpool,  177 
Goode  News,  87 

HAIRDRESSER  s  Revenge  (Ihe),  44 
Happy  New  Year  I  (A).  6 
Hawanlen  Campaign  (The),  58 
Haymarketable  Piece.  818 
Heartfelt  Loyalty,  284 
Henry  Blackburn,  153 
Her  Other  Partner,  15« 
H*»r  People's  Reply,  886 
"  Hoist  with  his  own  Petard,"  246 
Honours  Divided,  336 
How  to  Lose  a  Beat,  98 
How  to  see  the  Procession,  877 
II. K. II.  the  Duchess  of  York,  258 
I  DBA  (The).  88 
Impaled  Hurt  (An),  25 
Impressions  of  a  Presentation,  117 
Improving  London,  106 
In  a  Conservatory.  879 
In  a  Fleet  Street  Tavern,  265 
In  a  Slow  Train,  142 
Interim  Report  (An),  285 
International.  166 
Interviews  with  Inanimate  Objects,  it?, 

267,  288,  329 
In  the  London  Fog,  82 
Islington  Tournament  (The),  278 
jKALousvon  the  Wing,  61 
"  Jeanne,  Jeannette,  and  Jeanueton,"  11'.' 
Jolly  Juvenile  Jubilee  (A).  8JO 
Jubilee  Celebrator's  Vsde  Mecutn,  331 
Jubilee  Objects,  380 
Jubilopera  Notes,  333 
KEW-RIOUB  Proposal  (A),  219 
Krttger's  Little  Claim,  101 
"  Kwsjee,"  154 
LADY  Cricketer  (The),  849 
Latest  Art  Notes  (The),  1 
Lay  of  a  Garden  Hat  (The),  288 
Laying  the  Hurricane,  ?6I 


Lenten  Lay  (A),  188 

Lilt  of  Kew  Gardens  (A).  255 

Limits  of  Chivalry  (The),  lf>9 

Literary  Reci)«a,  277 

Little  Eloff,  184 

Los  Jingos  Americanos.  40 

"  MADE  in  Germany,"  16 

Han  In  the  Street  (The),  log 

Marlage  da  Oravenanre,  141 

Marking  Time,  268 

"  Merry  Family  "  Concert  (The).  169 

Militia  Officer's  Vade  Mecnm  (The),  180 

Minding  other  People's  Business,  80 

"  Mine  Ease  in  Mine  Inn,"  191 

Misunderstood,  108 

Modest  Request  (A),  147 

Modish  May-Queen  (The).  222 

Moral  from  Marpmann  (A),  246 

More  Manners  for  Men,  162 

Moribund,  886 

Most  Learned  Profession  (The),  24 

Mother  Kuropa's  World-renowned  "  Con- 
cert "  CuraMve,  233 

Mr.  Punch's  Dramatic  Dream,  290, 307, 310 

Mr.  Tom  Oiling,  late  M.P.,  and  Eugene 
Aram,  deceased.  37 

Muzzle  and  Gag,  250 

My  Aunts  and  the  Jubilee,  335 

My  Ten-Act  Comedy,  181 

NAPPY  Thought  at  the  Lyceum  (A),  201 

New  "  Address  to  the  Deil "  (A),  46 

New  Azrael  (The),  C4 

New  Chivalry  (The),  177 

New  Coinage  (The),  4 

New  Hardy  Norseman  (The),  77 

New  Hellenism,  161 

New  Humanity  (The).  18 

New  Shamrock  of  Old  Ireland  (The),  18 

New  Table  of  Interest  (A),  270 

Noblesw  obliges  sometimes,  261 

No  " Curling"  of. the  Upper  Lip,  16 

None  but  the  Brave  befriend  the  Fair,  34 

Not  all  Diamonds,  118 

Not  a  Putr  of  Smoke,  214 

Note  of  the  Day  (A).  327 

Notes  and  Queries.  27 

Not  for  an  Age,  178 

NotO    K..  137 

Noughts  and  Cro««*s,  10.-18 

OH  lor  I  or,  The  Ways  of  our  Water- Wags 

Old  Lead  of  the  Court  Ifcnce  (The),  877 

Old  to  the  New  (The),  16 

On  a  Wet  Day.  34 

One  Hundred  (The),  2(4 

On  the  Uses  of  Parody,  119 

Opening  of  Parliament,  298 

O.ien  Sesame  I  tti 

Operatic  Notes.  262,  270,  381,  :U2 

Our  Booking-Office,  9,  24.  28, 89, 64.  64,  Tii, 
88,  97,  10»,  ISO  138,  164,  166,  >69,  1X6, 
196.  219,  229.  241.  26?,  S67,  279,  317.  34U 

Our  Colonial  "Comrades"  at  the  Lyceum, 
386 

Our  Conversation  Book,  82' 

Our  Hotel  Drawing-room,  190 

Our  New  Knight-Hospitaller,  93 

PAIR  of  Kids  and  a  Hero  (A),  1>3 

Parallel  (A),  281 

Parallel  Passages,  125 

Paris  Impromptu  (A),  862 

Passage  in  a  Flat,  109 

Pi.neus  (The),  147 

Plaint  of  an  Unprotected  Female,  N> 

Play-wrecker's  Vade  Mecum  (The),  70 

Plea  for  Poor  Law  Officers  (A),  II C 

Poor  Old  Dibdin  !  40 


Preparing  for  War,  51 

"  Present-Humps  I "  111 

Prose  it,  109 

Providing  for  the  Future.  839 

Provincial  Sketches.  S.  II 

Public  Theatricals,  846 

Punch,  not  "  Whuskey,"  18 

Purple  West  (The),  l«l 

Puzzle  Picture  Curse  (The),  852 

QUEEN'S  Commemoration  (the),  117 

Queen's  Highway  (The),  253 

Queen  (The).  889 

Queen  Victoria  and  Mr.  Punch,  292 

Questions  of  the  Euter  Outing,  191 

Questions  in  the  House,  240 

Questions  that  should  never  ta  asked,  146, 
169 

Quite  an  Easter  Holiday,  198 

RACE  in  Common  Form  (The),  163 

Railway  Lie-ability,  6 

Real  Good  Time  (A),  197 

Heal  Palace  of  Art  (A),  118 

Reoent  Incident  (A),  886 

Reciprocity,  179 

Red  Tape  and  Brotherly  Love.  329 

Red.  White  and  Blue  (The),  196 

K*  servt-d  for  Advertisements,  167 

Rent  and  Refreshment,  280 

Retrenchment,  220 

Kinging  the  Changes,  192 

Roast  Beef  of  New  England  (The),  8* 

Roundabout  Readings,  4,  17,  62,  l  I,  Its, 
146, '74 

Royal  Oper*,  Govent  Garden,  241 

Rotal  iRIrhmondl  Grant,  8Y4 

"  Rubber  Foresta  of  Upper  Burm  i "  (The), 
145 

Ruddy  Young  Slaughterman  (Th  .•),  :5i 

dAUCE  for  t-.he  Gander,  i3 

fVcnte  rergitjt  Sense.  188 

iVientilic  Barber  (The),  105 

f*e«sonable  Suggestion  (A),  '.37 

Sense  for  the  Sexe«  11" 

''Seventeenth  of  March  in  the  Morning* 
(The),  141 

'•heet-Llghtnlne  Descent  (A).  »« 

Shepherd's  *.M.  c|tiy  (The),  54 

Shots  at  Science.  61 

hinews  of  War  at  a  Discount  (The),  197 

Sir  Walter's  Way,  18« 

Sixty  Tears  Ago,  »l» 

Slippery  Snbjict  (A),  71 

"Smart  and  Up-to-date."  5 
Home  Favourite  Recreations,  1W 
lome  Interesting  Dramatic  Souvenir*,  41 
Some  Jubilee  Statistics,  101 
••orne'Mni:  like  a  Festival.  819 
Song  Imperial,  1897  (A).  810 
Song  of  Detection  ( Al.  61 
Song  of  Hyhrias  'lie  Norman  (The),  1;  :i 
Song  of  Spring  (Onions),  271 
•long  of  the  Jubilee  (The),  til 
Spec  in  beats  (The),  «7 
Sportive  Songs,  5,  fl.  2«,  41.  57,  •».  «l, 
114,  '211,  186,  187,  203,  MS,  237,  2!U  Mi, 
3S4,  38* 

Starling  a  Syndicate,  169 
Strike  of  the  Pipes  (The),  86 
Suggestion  for  the  R.A..  185 
Summary  of  News  for  March,  131 
Sympathy,  i3l 
TACK  LINO  the  Traffic.    45 
Tail  of  Science  (A).  »S 
Taking  the  Air.  823 
Talk  at  the  Tournament.  235 
Tilk  for  the  Thames,  l:'J 
Talk  <.  Work.  IIS 


342 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  3,  1897. 


Test  of  True  Gallantry,  323 

That  Concert,  204 

Things  not  to  be  said,  249 

To  a  General  Favourite,  389 

"To  Arms  I"  77 

Toast  to  the  Poster  Girl  (A).  287 

To  be  (Muzzled)  or  not,  Toby  f  196 

To  Hellas,  201 

To  the  Bayard  of  Peace,  121 

To  Tom,  66 

T.  R.  Adelphl,  V.8.A.,  Strand,  !76 

True  Genius,  249 

True  Loyalty,  85 

True  Patriot  (The),  171 

Truly  National,  201 

Turkish  Farce  and  Russian  Tragedy,  27 

Twins,  165 

Two  Bookies  (The),  274 

Two  Kings,  27» 

Two  Lines  without  a  Not,  141 

Two  "NV  (The),  1S3 

UNCLEAN  I    Unclean  I  75 

Uuder  Control  again  1  185 

Unmuzzled,  81 

Unverified  War  Rumours,  185 

Up  and  Down,  171 

Up  to  Now,  178 

VARIETY  is  Charming,  161 

Venerable  Anti-Muzzier  (A),  195 

Versatility  of  Modern  Art  (The),  188 

Very  Last  ot  the  Channel  Tunnel  (The),  60 

Very  Pretty  Dance  (A),  67 

Victorian  Shield  (The),  800 

"Victoria  Victis,"  1*4 

"  Vision  "  (The),  190 

Voice  from  the  Classes  (A    87 

"  WALRUS  and  the  Carpenter"  (The),  282 

"  Wanted,"  9V 

Warranted  made  in  Germany,  824 

Watts  for  Whitechapel,  19S 

"  Way  they  will  have  in  the  Navy  "  (A), 

114 

What  to  do  with  our  Daughters,  258 
When  Greek  meets  Greek,  21 
When  Greek  (?)  meets  Turk  (?),  148 
Where  are  the  Motors  of  Yesteryear  ?  128 
Where  shall  we  go  "  for  a  Change  ?  "  144 
Who  wrote  this?  1*6 
"  Why  ruin  the  Guards  ?  "  7S 
Will  they  get  it  ?  206 
With  the  Jolly  Young  Water-colour  Men, 

149 

Witnesses  in  Waiting,  150 
Wotherspoous  (The),   100,  112,  124,  136, 

)4s,  16U,  172 
YFLLS  (The),  49 

Yuuug  Folks  at  Home  (Ths),  889 
ZOOLOGICAL  Conundrum  (A),  225 

LARGE  ENGRAVINGS. 

AGAINST  the  Grain,  103 

At  Westminster  Hall,  67 

"  Better  Part  of  Valour  "  (The),  55 

Bone  of  Contention  (The),  115 

'•  Broken  to  Harness,"  271 

Change  of  Treatment,  163 

Crisis  1 1 !  (The),  IKS) 

Diamond  Jubilee  Dream  of  Victorian 

Derby  Days  (A),  3  6,  317 
E«,tern  Egg  (The),  it.7 
ulephautiue  Maj  irity  (The),  79 
Eleihant  Trap  li'ha),  1/6 
"  For  Queen  and  Empire  1 1 "  302,  3C3 
Greek  Moth  (The),  lt» 
Hamlet  at  Athens.  228 
Loyalists  Disloyal  (The),  19 
"  My  Friend— the  Enemy  !  "  247 
Our  New  Knight- Hospitaller,  W),  91 
"Queen's  Metsinger"  (The),  837 
Queen's  Year  (The),  7 
'•  Second  Thoughts,"  81 
Spithead,  June  26,  324 
Stiff  Course  (A),  48 
Tender  Mercies  !  127 
Turkish  Shylock  (Tne),  259 
"  Walrus  and  the  Carpenter  "  (The),  26:; 
"  Who  says  '  Sick  Man '  Now  ?  "  235 
"You  go  First  I"  139 

SMALL   ENGRAVINGS. 

AFRICAN  Lady's  Yellow  Trimming,  53 
Aichdbacon'n  Gaiters  (An),  29 
Armorial  Shirts,  94 
'Arry  and  Foreign  Waiters,  246 
Artist's  Friend  on  Show  Sunday,  160 
Aunt  Clara  and  the  Picture-Frame,  I G9 
Banging  his  Horse  at  the  Timber,  75 
Baron's  Reiravtory  Servant  (The),  832 
Bartlett's  entry  into  Athens,  289 
Bath-Chair  ol  the  Future  (The),  28 
Being  rather  Naughty.  322 
Blurcoat  Boy  and  Hat.  240 
Boat-race  in  Ancient  Egypt,  167 
Bobby  and  Old  Gentleman's  Respirator, 

88 

Bouby's  Behaviour  at  the  Party,  S4 
Britannia  and  the  Fleet,  305 
By  Tram-Car  to  the  Pyramids,  77 


Canada's  Favour  to  John  Bull,  218 
Case  of  Spoous  (A),  229 
Chamberlain  in  his  Orchid-house,  26 
Change  ef  Ministry  in  184«.  2112 
Choosing  to  be  a  Sweep,  8d5 
Clerk  and  Speaking  Tube,  225 
Colonial  Visitor  at  St.  Paul's,  2C4 
Contrasts.  18S7  and  1897,  293 
Coster  selling  "  Sweet  Lavender,"  41 
Country  Parson  and  Distinguished  Peer, 

23 1 

County  Council  Coat-of-Arms,  328 
Crinoline  Period,  1600,  312 
Croquet  Period.  186  >,  312 
Crowd  on  Jubilee  Day  (The),  266 
Cyclist  and  the  Bull,  330 
Cyclist  and  Unmuzzled  Dogs,  161 
Cyclist  arguing  with  Horseman.  68 
Cyclists'  Change  ot  Clothes,  340 
Cyclists  in  Ba'.tersea  Park,  821 
Definition  of  a  Gentleman  Rider,  189 
Descended  from  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  220 
Des'gn  for  a  Parliamentary  Car.  294 
Disturbed  Young  Couple  Seated  on  Stairs' 

I8d 

Dressmaker  and  Stout  Lady's  Figure,  172 
Dr.  Nanseu  after  many  Dinners,  85 
Drummer-boy  and  Sweetheart,  118 
Erne  hurting  her  Finger,  54 
'Eighty-nine  Champagne  at  Dinner,  141 
Electricity  versus  Diamonds,  281 
Fair  Defendant's  Dress  (A),  231 
Fair  Sitter  and  her  Bicycle,  154 
Farmer  and  Labourer,  j57 
Farmer  and  the  Asparagus,  177 
Flurried  Waiter  at  a  Restau.ant,  1S3 
Fly-Usher  hooks  a  Sheep,  25 1 
Footballers'  and  Ladies'  Dress,  159 
Football—"  Ladies  admitted  Free."  143 
Football  making  your  Hair  curl,  187 
Footman  and  Housemaid,  24 1 
French  Egyptian  Bond-holder  and  John 

Bull,  86 

Frenchman  at  a  Dog-Show,  288 
Gent  amid  Hounds  not  running,  HI 
Germania  arming  Kruger,  194 
Girls  discussing  Rejected  Lover,  258 
Girls  reading  Fielding,  9 
Giving  his  Wife  a  bit  of  his  Mind,  106 
Gladstone  and  Athletic  Pursuits,  170 
Golden-haired  Lady  (A),  174 
Gondola  Motor-car  (A),  145 
Gouty  Uncle  and  Nephew's  Collar,  61 
Great  Queens  of  History,  289 
Grey  aud  Black  Hairs  (The).  114 
Guardsman  buying  a  Horse  at  Gib,  105 
Guardsman  on  Gibraltar  Rock,  74 
Hairdresser's  Tonic  Lotion  (A),  232 


Hair-dressing  a  la  Knocker,  243 

Harp  in  18a7,  Banjo  in  1697,  809 

His  Old  Aunt's  Will.  222 

Histriona  of  Sixty  Years  Past,  299 

H.M.S.  "Afrikander,"  278 

Horse  bolting  on  Epsom  Road.  267 

Horse-owner  and  Amateur  Jockey,  178 

Housemaid's  Valentines  (A),  78 

How  to  Utilise  Foot-warmers,  97 

Hunting  Farmer  riding  over  seeds,  121 

Hunting  in  a  Snowdrift,  84 

Hunting  Ladies  discussing  Bicycles,  147 

Hunting  Ladies  thrown  out.  8 

Hunting  Man  and  Clothes-line,  33 

Hunting  Man  and  Letter  "  K  "  el 

Hunting  Man  in  Cucumber  Frame,  186 

Hunting  Man's  Second  Hat  (A),  109 

Hunting  Man  stopped  by  a  Wall,  45 

Hunting  Man  thrown  into  Brook,  61 

Hunting  Meets  in  1637  and  1897,  295 

Huntsman  and  Beer-loving  Whip,  48 

Husband's  Shelter  (The),  181 

In  a  Pig-market,  183 

Inebriate  Rustic  and  Evening  Lecture,  93 

Infantry  Flag-signalling,  250 

Irascible  Publisher  and  Poet,  190 

Irate  Cabby  and  'Bus  Driver,  288 

Irish  Car-driver  and  the  Whiskey,  166 

Irish  Protessor's  Lecture,  198 

Jack's  Father's  Step- Wife,  269   • 

John  Bull  and  Miss  Abyssinia,  110 

Jones  and  his  difficult  Song,  66 

Jubilee  Seat  in  a  Churchyard,  185 

Justice  with  Britannia  and  Columbia,  38 

Keeping  the  Old  Muzzle,  184 

Kicking  Cob  and  Dog-cart,  888 

Labby  Lubin  and  Chamberlain  Colin,  254 

Ladies  and  Regent  Street  Shops,  85 

Ladies  discussing  Mr.  Soaker,  150 

Lady  Artist  and  Academy  Porter,  178 

Lady  at  a  Dentist's,  249 

Lady  Bicyclist  and  Horseman,  27 

Lady  Binks'  Cautions  Bachelor.  65 

Lady  cannons  Horseman  into  Brook,  51 

Lady  declining  Invite  to  a  Dance,  42 

Lady's  Domino  (A),  129 

Lady's  Questions  as  to  Suitor,  285 

Lady  T>  pewriter  (A|,  245 

Little  Boreham's  Alpine  Story,  40 

Little  Girl  whispering  In  Company,  171 

Little  Missy  orders  the  Goals,  6 

Little  Swell  who  does  not  "Bike,"  17 

Liveried  Servants  outside  Opera,  279 

London  Sympathises  with  Paris,  230 

Losing  Money  at  the  Club,  829 

Lost  Return  Tickets,  237 

Making  Baby  Smile,  15 

Marriage  of  Miss  Polly  Naris,  141 


Married  v.  Single  Lady,  3U 
Master  Curzon  in  Charge,  182 
Minor  Poet  and  his  Hostess.  193 
Missing  Horse  on  Epsom  D  wns,  276 
Miss  Jubilee  off  to  the  Reviow,  310 
Movable  Shooting  Gallery  (A),  257 
Mr.  Barlow  s  Jubilee  Holidays,  8?3 
Mr.  D'^gles  at  Home  and  at  Sea,  87 
Mr.  Dudeley  and  the  Procession,  819 
Mr.  Punch  and  Art  Treasures,  1*2 
Mr.  Punch  congratulates  the  Police,  886 
Mrs.  Ghoul  on  Funerals  of  To-day,  186 
Mrs.  Manytwigg's  Jubilee  Window,  261 
Mr.  Softley's  Terrible  Vengeance,  78 
Musicians  in  a  Bath-room,  253 
Muzzled  Dog  and  Rats,  208 
Nautical  Parliament  (A),  82 
Nelson  variously  pourtrayed,  188 
"  New  Housemaid's  "  Name  (A),  16 
New  ••  Motorambulator"  (Thej,  12 
No  Muzzling  Order  in  1887,  31* 
Nurse  Bridget  and  Miss  Erne,  195 
Old  Gentleman  and  child's  Bun,  11 
Old  Gent  on  Hunter's  Neck,  tfb 
Old  Lady  and  Young  Sweeper,  85 
Old  Lady  with  Excess  Luggage,  70 
Old  Rustic  and  M.  F.  H.,  i30 
Oliver  Cromwell  Kruger,  184 
One-armed  Beggar  and  Lady,  824 
One-Leg  Limit  for  Speeches,  251 
Page  at  Boy's  Mother  s  Wedding,  126 
Past  and  Present  Hunting,  297 
Past  Stock  and  Present  Collar,  285 
Painter  and  Sculptor,  197 
Patent  Jubilee  Chair  (The),  189 
Pater  and  Bon's  Toy-boat,  274 
Pater  telling  a  Lie  by  Proxy,  30 
Pennyfathei's  Jubilee  Seats  Scheme,  2fO 
Percy  offering  Grandma  a  Chair,  49 
Photographer  and  Lady  Sitter,  233 
Piece  of  Early  Tapestry  (A),  168 
Pint  Pot  Then  and  Now,  312 
Playing  at  Jubilees,  2V  u 
Podgers  riding  through  Wood  (The),  123 
Policeman's  Future  crammer  Costume,  204 
Policeman's  Berge  Suit,  2*5 
Policeman  X.  and  Justice  Hawkins,  146 
Politician's  by  the  Sea  at  Easter,  Mt 
Popular  Actress  in  Two  Pieces  (A),  273 
Prehistoric  Jubilee  (A),  811 
Private  Lodgings  in  Jubilee  Weak,  285 
Prominent  Figures  in  Procession,  8iS 
Puncn  Firing  Jubilee  Beacon,  814 
Punch  presenting  Vol.  to  Queeu,  810 
Queen  and  Parliament  of  164^,  2tfO 
Ready-made  Coats(-of-Arm»),  82,  84,  4li, 

71,  llu,  131,  101 

Rhodes  before  the  Hekla  Chiefs,  98 
Riding  a  Blind  Hunter.  118 
Hiding  a  "  Savaging  "  Mare,  99 
Rotten  Row  in  Io:i7  and  189',  308 
Royal  Academy  Pictures.  2^6 
Russian  Bear  settling  Turkey's  Bill,  286 
Rustic  Model's  Father's  Apples,  117 
Salisbury  and  Jester  Punch,  X 
Salisbury  on  Dromedary,  50 
Santa  Claus's  Gifts.  13 
school  Bears  and  Balfour's  Bun,  62 
Shaving  in  Silence,  102 
Sheep  searching  for  Lost  Shepherd,  221 
Shooting  Game  in  1897,  807 
Short-sighted  Driver  and  Scarecrow,  219 
Sixty  Years'  Fashions,  291 
Smelling  the  London  Season,  827 
Songs  and  their  Singers,  25,  t>2,  64.  78,  87, 

lOi,  112,  lift,  287 
Sportsman's  Bag  in  1S37,  300 
Squirrel  Harcourt  in  Cage,  67 
Stage-Coach  Horses'  Colours,  166 
Stage-Coach  in  the  Snow,  58 
St.  George  on  Motor-Car  Coin,  J2 
Stout  General  and  his  Medals,  124 
Street  Boys  and  New  Statue,  5 
Street-boy  and  Patti,  26  i 
swell  holding  his  own  Horse,  21 
Tailor's  Two  Suits  (A),  282 
Teddy  and  the  Hot  Asparagus,  196 
Teddy  and  the  Last  Ice.  4 
I  hrusters  Galloping  on  to  Hounds,  39 
Tommy's  Ftice  a  la  Nansen,  100 
Tom  Thumb  at  Buckingham  Palace,  290 
Two  Brutal  Husbands,  135 
Two  Cabbies  discussing  Motor  Cars,  10 
•'  Unlevel "  German  Horseman,  262 
Use  for  Jubilee  Decorations,  839 
Verdant  Greenhorn  and  Horse-dealer,  839 
Victorian  Shield  (The),  800 
Waiters  and  Intellectual  Diners,  217 
Weighing  John  Bull,  14 
Why  Captain  Pelham  no  longer  "  Bikes," 

243 

Why  have  Green  Peas  with  Duck?  ST7 
Why  Papa  called  Mr.  B.  a  Liar,  1B2 
Wooden  Horse  "  eaten  his  Head  off,"  142 
Workmen's  Compensation  Bill,  242 
Wrecking  the  Arbitration  Train,  158 
Young  Lady  who  reads  Daily  Paper,  47 
Young  Spiller  and  Lady  Tourist,  227 
Young  Squire  and  Old  Rustic,  179 


BRADBURY,    AGNEW,   &  CO.,    LD.,   PRINTERS,    LONrxiN   ANp  TONBRIDOE. 


VOk  CXIII 


LONDON : 
PUBLISHED    AT    THE    OFFICE,     85,    FLEET    STREET, 


AND   SOLD   BY  ALL    IIOciKSEI.LERS. 

1897. 


BRADBURY,    AGNKW     &   CO.    LD.,    PRINTERS, 
LOWDON  AND  TON  BRIDGE. 


JANUARY  1,  1898.] 


PUNCH,   OK  THE   LONDON   CHARIVAIM. 


in 


NO  more  beautiful  day  could  have  been  imagined,  and  no  more  beautiful  scene.  It  was  mid-winter  in  Montreal.  The 
bright  sun  was  gleaming  upon  the  magnificent  Ice-Palace  in  which  King  FROST  held  his  Court.  The  lofty  towers, 
the  gorgeous  battlements,  and  the  spacious  arches  sparkled  and  glittered  with  rainbow  hues.  Through  the  crisp,  clear 
air  sounded  the  tinkle  of  the  sleigh-bells  and  the  keen,  whirring  song  of  thousands  of  skates  tracing  fantastic  figures  on 
the  hard,  black  ice.  All  that  Montreal  could  show  of  beauty,  of  grace,  of  fashion  was  gathered  there,  and  over  all  a 
bright  spirit  of  delight  held  sway. 

But  from  this  gay  and  rejoicing  crowd  two  figures  stood  apart,  not  moodily,  but  in  kindly  contemplation. 

One  was  short  in  stature,  yet  majestic.  His  eyes,  surmounted  by  shaggy  eyebrows,  shone  with  a  strange  light. 
His  nose  and  chin,  longer  and  more  pointedly  curved,  perhaps,  than  mere  ideas  of  classical  beauty  might  warrant,  beamed 

back  a  rosy  welcome  to  the  frost.      He  was  clad  in  a  fur  coat,  and  from  the  centre  of  his  back  projected But  why 

describe  him  further?     It  was  PUNCH,  the  Sage,  the  friend  of  mankind  ! 

"  A  pretty  scene,  Sir  WILFRID,"  he  was  saying  to  his  companion,  a  man  of  an  alert  face,  such  as  belongs  properly 
to  men  of  thought  and  action,  "a  pretty  scene!  At  home  we  cannot  rival  you  in  this.  Imagine  an  Ice-Palace  in  our 
London.  Why,  the  soot  would  lie  thick  on  it  before  an  hour  was  past,  and  the  fog  would  hide  it  from  our  view." 

"  Yet  there  are  compensations,"  replied  his  companion.  "  Have  I  not  myself  seen  your  crowds  on  a  day  in  June 
assembled  to  do  homage  to  their  QUEEN  1  And,  as  they  shouted  for  their  Colonial  brothers  and  friends,  did  I  not  feel  the 
larger  spirit  of  our  common  patriotism  stir  within  my  breast  ?  For  we  are  all  brothers,  though  differing  in  race ;  sons  of 
one  great  mother,  though  parted  by 

'  The  unplumbed,  salt,  estranging  sea.' 
I  myself " 

"  You  yourself,  Sir,"  retorted  the  Sage,  "  are  one  of  the  glories  of  our  brotherhood.  A  Frenchman  in  name  and 
in  race,  have  you  not  shown  in  your  own  person  how  wisdom  and  freedom  may  avail  to  bind  men  together  in  one  citizen- 
ship ?  Our  ancestors  sprang  at  one  another's  throats.  Their  descendants  work  together  in  peace  and  harmony  for  the 
good  of  their  country." 


IV 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  1,  1898. 


"You  speak  the  truth,  as  you  always  do,  but " 

"  I  know  what  you  would  say.  It  was  not  always  so.  No  mortal  is  invariably  wise.  We  have  had  our  follies. 
Would  they  had  always  ended  as  well  as  in  Canada.  Sometimes  we  have  forgotten  that  you  and  yours  have  a  natural 
pride  in  the  great  deeds  of  the  Frenchmen  who  hewed  out  civilisation  from  the  wild  and  rugged  wastes  that  met  their 
advance ;  who  suffered,  and  fought,  and  persevered,  and  reclaimed,  and  taught  in  the  midst  of  naked  savages  clamouring 
for  their  blood.  It  is  a  stirring  and  a  splendid  history,  fitly  to  be  read  in  the  great  narratives  of  FRANCIS  PARKMAN. 
And  while  we  honour  WOLFE,  we  do  not  forget  to  pay  a  tribute  of  admiration  to  his  noble  enemy,  MONTCALM." 

"  And  now  ? " 

"And  now,  Sir,  we  are  all,  as  you  said,  brothers.  Your  welfare,  your  honour,  your  illustrious  achievements, 
•where  shall  they  meet  with  a  more  sincere  appreciation  than  with  us  in  our  little  sea-girt  island  1 " 

"  True  again,  and  worthily  said.  Our  skies  are  cold,  but  our  hearts  are  warm,  and  if,  quod  Di  avertant,  the  need 
should  arise,  we  are  ready  to  prove  our  love  for  the  men  of  the  Old  Country  by  fighting  at  their  side." 

"I  thank  you,  Sir  WILFRID,"  said  the  Great  One,  "I  thank  you  heartily.  But  I  see  there  is  only  one  thing  that 
you  lack." 

"  And  that  is  ? " 

"  This,"  said  Mr.  PUNCH,  as  he  presented  to  Sir  WILFRID  LAURIER,  G.C.M.G.,  Prime  Minister  of  the  Government 
of  the  Dominion  of  Canada — for  it  was  indeed  he,  and  no  other — his 


imbrtir  aittr  Cjmlccntlj 


JULY  10,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CH  A  I!  I  \.\RI. 


VALE! 

[Mrs.  OLIPHANT,  the  gifted  woman  of  letters, 
passed  away  on  Friday,  June  25,  1897.] 

THB  brave,  long  life  at  last  is  done ! 

No  more  her  pen  shall  tell  with  grace 
The  stories  that — each  one  by  one — 

Strengthened  the  writer's  pride  of  place. 
Not  hers  the  art  of  painting  tight, 

Or  weaving  plot  for  tragic  end. 
She  limned  Romance  with  pure  delight, 

And  so  made  all  the  world  her  friend. 
She  had  the  knowledge  of  the  lives 

We  find  in  English  womanhood ; 
And    showed  that   maidens,   sweethearts, 
wives, 

Had  hearts  of  gold  for  England's  good. 
Not  here  to  sing  her  noble  aim 

While  working  as  a  self-made  slave ; 
Only  in  honour  of  her  name 

We  place  this  leaf  upon  her  grave ! 


CONFESSIONS  OF  A  JUBILEE  POLE. 

YES  ;  it  is  quite  true.  I  was  used  for  the 
CZAR'S  coronation ;  and  before  that  I  as- 
sisted at  a  function  in  Persia;  and  before 
that  I  was  in  India.  And  before  that — well, 
my  memory  fails  me.  But  ever  since  I  left 
my  native  forest  I  have  been  on  the  road. 
You  see,  I  am  put  up  in  the  ttreets,  and 
then  covered  with  red  cloth.  Then  they 
hang  a  banner  to  me.  Of  course,  the  device 
on  the  banner  depends  upon  the  country 
and  the  occasion.  The  other  day  I  was  aU 
Royal  Standards,  but  at  my  last  resting- 
place  I  absolutely  shone  with  Imperial 
iagles.  It  all  comes  in  the  day's  work.  And 

VOL.7CTIII. 


I  don't  mind!  Then  they  tie  paper  gar- 
lands to  me.  Some  of  these  are  on  the 
road  like  myself.  See  that  the  decorations 
of  St.  James's  Street  have  been  bought 
(second  hand)  to  freshen  up  Birmingham. 
Rather  suggestive  of  Brum,  isn't  it  P  And 
do  I  like  my  work  ?  Why,  yes.  It 's  excit- 
ing, if  it  'a  nothing  else.  There 's  the 
putting  up  and  the  pulling  down,  and  the 
fuss  of  the  function  itself.  I  look  rather 
a  sight  towards  the  close.  So  I  ought,  after 
such  dissipation.  You  can't  be  out  night 
after  night  in  an  atmosphere  of  crowd  and 
hammenng  without  losing  something  of 
your  freshness.  And  then  the  language 
that  reaches  you !  But  the  Colonials  and 
the  Indians  were  first-rate,  and  I  had 
generally  a  good  time  of  it.  The 
Foreign  Princes  "  are  old  friends  of  mine. 
I  am  always  running  across  them.  Yes  ;  I 
am  sure  to  see  them  again.  Probably  at 
the  next  State  function.  They  travel  about 
as  much  as  I  do  myself.  And  where  am  I 
going  to  next?  I  am  sure  I  don't  know. 
If  you  really  want  to  learn,  you  had  better 
ask  my  contractor. 


At  the  Naval  Review. 

French  Visitor  (to  English  Host).  Mon 
Dieu!  vhat  a  nombere  of  your  sheep*  'ave 
got  French  names! 

English  Host  (anxious  to  be  pleasant). 
Yes!  You  see,  there  was  a  time  when — 
ahem! — we  had  to  borrow  some  vessels 
from  your  country.  We  hadn't  got  enough 
of  our  own. 

[French,  Visitor  is  delighted  at  this  proof  of 
English  sympathy. 


AFTER  THE  SPITHEAD  DEMONSTRATION. 

(Suggested  by  a  South  Wales  Lady.) 

Orr  of  the  valleys  of  the  Deep 

That  lie  between  the  Mountain  waves, 
There  comes  the  phantom  spirit  Sleep, 

To  make  all  folk  her  grateful  slaves. 
Sweet,  kindly  Sleep!  denied  to  me 

When  looking  on  this  lace-like  foam, 
For  on  this  great  and  godlike  sea 

My  heart  awakes  with  dawn  of  Home. 

Home  1    Yes,  our  Home  is  far  around, 

Each  rippled  crest  is  all  our  own. 
Where  can  such  Home  be  elsewhere  found  P 

What  Monarch  owns  so  grand  a  Throne  P 
The  Sea  is  England's !    Let  them  brag 

The  Armies  of  the  great  Un-free, 
But  underneath  the  British  flag 

The  Home  of  Freedom  is  the  Sea ! 


A  Most   Trying  Situation. 

Mr.  Chortlebury  (who  has  met  a  couple  of 
friends,  and  invited  them  to  his  house  to  have 
a  drink).  Good  heavens !  my  wife  has  gone 
out  with  the  key  of  the  tantalus ! 

[And  the  parlour-maid  grinned  consider- 
ably when  Mr.  C.  had  to  send  to  the 
nearest  public- house  for  whiskey. 

After  the  Jubilee. 

Robinson  (to  Jobbinson) .  What  have  you 
been  doing  since  I  saw  you  last  P 

Jnbbinson.  Buying  up  all  the  stands  I 
can  for  winter  fuel.  I  sha'n't  be  able  to 
afford  coals. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  10,  1897. 


\ 


ANOTHER    RECORD    BROKEN. 

Aunty  Mary.      "!'M   READING  A   LETTER  FROM  YOUR   BBOTHKR  FRANK.      DID  YOU   KNOW   THAT   HE'S   BEEN   PLAYING   IN   A 
CRICKET  MATCH  AT  SCHOOL,  AND  MADE  FORTY  RUNS  2 " 

Lily.     "On,  AUNTIE,  WHAT  A  LONG  WAY  FRANK  MUST  HAVE  HIT  THAT  BALL  !" 


THE  (ART)  VAMPIRE. 

(A  Horrible  Tale  of  the  Fate  of  a  Fashionable 
Philistine  in  the  Art  Season.  A  long  way 
after  Kipling.) 

A  CHAP  there  was,  and  he  went  to  stare 

(Even  as  you  and  II), 
At  technique  and  tone,  and  some  whispy 

hair. 
What  they  meant  he  knew  not,  nor  did  he 

care; 

But  all  who  were  "in  it, "had  to  go  there — • 
(Even  as  you  and  I). 

"Oh!  the  hours  we  waste,  and  the  days  we 

waste, 

And  the  aching  of  head  and  hand, 
On    pictures    whose    meaning    we    do   not 

know 

(And  now  we  know  we  can  never  know, 
And  much  less  understand!)." 

This  fool  was  "  in  it,"  and  so  he  went 

(Even  as  you  and  II), 
To  stare  at  scarecrows  of  cryptic  intent 
(He  hadn't  a  notion  of  what  they  meant), 
But  a  fellow  must  follow  the  fashion's  bent 

(Even  as  you  and  I!). 

"  Oh !  the  toil  he  lost,  and  the  moil  he  lost, 

And  the  modish  bonds  he  banned, 
When  he  went  with  the  crowd  who  didn't 

know  why 
(And  now  we  know  it  could  never  know 

why, 
And  never  could  understand!)." 

This  fool  was  filled  with  a  foolish  pride 
(Even  as  you  and  II), 


Though    he    yawned    a    yawn    which    he 

wished  to  hide, 
For  the    "  Vampire "   sorely   his   patience 

tried; 
And  he  stared,  and  dawdled,  and  nearly 

died — 
(Even  as  you  and  II). 

"  And  ain't  it  a  shame,   and   who  is   to 

blame, 

That,  even  in  this  'free'  land, 
We  must  '  do '  the  pictures,  and  none  know 

why 

(Seeing  we  hate  'em,  and  well  know  why, 
Can  anyone  understand  ?) ." 


DARBY  JONES  ON   RAGING  IN  GENERAL. 

HONOURED  SIR, — At  a  time  when  Ame- 
rican millionaires  are  making  fabulous  bids 
in  "  greenbacks "  for  that  splendid  son  of 
Erin,  the  Diamond  Jubilee  Derby  Winner, 
Galtef  More,  when  that  gallant  little  crock, 
Victor  Wild,  has  once  more  covered  him- 
self with  glory  at  Kempton  Park,  and 
when  Lord  BOSEBERY  has  been  consoled  by 
the  triumph  of  Velasquez  at  Newmarket,  it 
may  seem  presumption  on  my  part  to  refer 
to  the  prettiest  and  most  select  meeting  in 
Great  Britain.  I  refer,  of  course,  to  Stock- 
bridge,  where  the  Bibury  Club  meets  in 
full  force,  and  hard  by  one  of  the  best  trout 
streams  of  England,  where  the  fly-fisher 
is  as  well-known  as  is  the  flat-catcher  at 
Epsom. 

Stockbridge  is  not,  of  course,  Goodwood. 
There  is  nothing  Ducal  about  the  arrange- 
ments. There  are  no  huntsmen  in  canary 


liveries,  or  birdless  groves,  or  female  cos- 
tumes calculated  to  make  husbands  think 
of  Official  Receivers,  but  there  is  a  sort  of 
"  Far-from-the-madding-crpwd  "  Peace, 
which  would,  I  verily  believe,  cause  the 
Aggravated  Grandmother  League  to  recog- 
nise that  the  merry  dance  of  the  Turf  is 
not  always  tuned  to  the  coarse  bawl  of  the 
Bookmaker.  In  short,  honoured  Sir,  at 
Stockbridge,  even  if  you  are  not  a 
Bibury-ite,  you  may  enjoy  one  of  those 
old-fashioned  meetings,  which  remind  one 
of  the  sporting  prints  in  which  the  Prince 
Regent,  Colonel  GEORGE  HANGER,  CHIF- 
NEY,  and  bob-tailed  nags  figure  with  such 
effect. 

And  now  for  that  little  distich,  which  is 
so  valued  by  the  followers  of  the  sport  of 
Kings,  Princes  of  Wales,  and  even  Prime 
Ministers.  The  little  bird  on  the  tree 
sings :  — 

Beware,  oh !  beware 

Of  the  pride  of  Kinjrsi-lere, 
And  look  for  the  horse  with  a  man  on, 

That,  fitly  will  go 

At  the  pace  that  we  know 
Like  a  ball  from  the  mouth  of  a  cannon. 

Leaving  you  and  my  honoured  patrons 
to  decipher  the  rebus,  in  all  confidence 
that  we  shall  be  so  many  slayers  of  the 
golden  muf  (or  oof)  bird, 

I  am,  Your  devoted  henchman 
and  practical  adviser, 

DABBY  JONES. 


PROVERBIAL  MOTTO  FOR  A  CERTAIN  COM- 
MITTEE OF  INQUIRY  ( ?) . — Ask  no  questions 
and  you  '11  have  no  stories  told  ! 


JULY  10,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


Cabbie  (on  receipt  of  his  legal  fare). 


SQUARING    ACCOUNTS. 

ALL  RIGHT,  MY  LUD  !  I  CAN  Jis  STOP  A  TRIFLE  OUT  OF  MY  SUNDAY  ORFFERINS!" 


THE  PHILADELPHIANS. 

(By  One  who  wishes  them  better  luck.) 

[The  Cricket  Match  between  the  Philadelphia!! 
team  and  Yorkshire  at  Sheffield,  June  28—30,  was 
wholly  spoilt  by  rain,  and  on  the  third  day,  when 
barely  half  played,  had  to  be  left  unfinished.] 

AIR—"  Of  to  Philadelphia." 

IN  weather  wet  and  weary 
It  is  anything  but  cheery 

(Though   good   cricketers  the   elements 

seem  scorning) 
To  sit  in  the  Pavilion, 
When  'tis  one  chance  to  a  million 

That  we'll  see  the  Philadelphians  play 
this  morning  I 

With  my  macintosh  on  shoulder, 
I  'm  a  weariful  beholder 

Of  Yorkshire  and  the  Yankees  idly 

yawning ; 

And  I  've  got  a  gloomy  notion 
Good    Lord    HAWKE    won't    make    a 

motion 

To  score  off  the  Philadelphians  this 
morning  I 

These  Yanks,  it  is  well  known, 
With  the  bat  can  hold  their  own, 
WOOD   or  CREGAR  any   team  would   be 

adorning. 

But  they  all  look  sad  and  weary, 
When  the  wickets  soaked  and  dreary. 
Gave  no  start  to   Philadelphia  all   the 
morning. 

With  his  bat  across  his  shoulder, 
Sure  no  slogger  could  look  bolder 
Than  LESTER  ;    but  the   rain  came 
without  warning, 


Till  the  wickets.  I  've  a  notion, 
Are  much  like  the  German  Ocean, 
And  it  "s  "  off  "  with  Philadelphians 
this  morning. 

Such  gloom  would  dull  e'en  genial  GRACB  I 
They  strove  to  keep  a  cheerful  face, 
Like  batsmen  bold,  bad  luck  and  weather 

scorning. 

But  'tis  hard  to  "  buck  up  "  cheery, 
With  the  wickets  wet  and  dreary, 
When  you  have  to  "  draw  the  stumps  " 
on  the  third  morning. 

But     though     top-coats    grace     each 

shoulder, 

And  it  wetter  grows  and  colder, 
From  Sheffield  the  bhoys  start,  bad 

omens  scorning. 
And  some  day  I  have  a  notion, 
I  shall  feel  a  proud  emotion, 
To  see  the  Philadelphians  win — one 
morning ! 


From  our  own  School  Boy  under 

Examination. 

Examiner.  Give  the  Latin  for  "night- 
mare." 

Our  own  S.  B.  (after  considerable  cogi- 
tation). I  know,  Sir.    "  Equi-nox." 

[Takes  the  cake  and  exit. 


On  Kew  Bridge. 

First  Pedestrian  (meeting  Second  Pedes- 
trian on  the  summit  of  the  central  arrh).  Why 
on  earth  are  you  carrying  that  alpenstock  ? 

Second  Pedestrian.  I  'm  practising  for  my 
ascent  of  Mont  Blanc  in  August. 


A  GERMAN  PUZZLE  SOLVED. 
(Place  of  origin — Berlin.) 

REALLY  cannot  make  it  out  I  I  am 
distinctly  anti-English.  I  do  my  best  to 
thwart  Britons  all  the  world  over.  I  regard 
them  with  a  jealousy  that  knows  no 
bounds. 

And  yet!  I  love  the  sea,  and  nothing 
pleases  me  better  than  wearing  the  uniform 
of  a  British  admiral.  I  am  fond  of  yacht- 
ing, and  a  race  in  the  Solent  is  my  special 
delight.  I  take  the  deepest  interest  in  the 
Harrow  and  Eton  cricket  match,  the  Uni- 
versity Boat  Race  and  the  Derby.  I  am 
as  proud  as  Lucifer  of  my  English  regi- 
ment, and  never  forget  to  deck  their 
colours  on  Waterloo  Day.  I  have  the 
energy  that  only  a  Briton  can  boast.  I  can 
turn  my  hand  to  everything  as  only  an 
Anglo-Saxon  can  manage.  My  mother  was 
English,  and  her  mother,  too,  and  I  speak 
English  with  scarcely  an  accent. 

Then  how  comes  it  that  I  grumble  at 
everything  British  ?  Eureka !  I  have  it ! 
It  is  because,  in  spite  of  the  temptation  to 
belong  to  the  other  nation,  I  am — an 
Englishman  \ 

Some  Folk  are  so  Nasty. 

Mr.  Optimus  Hopkins.  Well,  wasn't  it 
lucky  that  the  Jubilee  windows  fell  so 
considerably  just  before  the  Procession 
Day?  We  all  went. 

Mr.  Pessimist  Popkins  (who  had  no 
seat).  Hum  phi  it  was  lucky  that  you  all 
came  back  safe.  I  fully  expected  that  the 
stands  would  follow  the  example  of  the 
windows. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  10,  1897. 


NOT    VERY    LIKELY. 

Waiter  (in  response  to  the  GoloneFs  very  vigorous  reminder).  "On  YES, 

SIR,     IMMEDIATELY  !        'M — LET   's     SEE — A     GLASS     Of     MlLK,     SlE, 

WASN'T  IT  ? " 


DINNEKS  AND  DINEES. 

( With  Apologies  to  the  P-ll  If -II  G-z-tte.) 

IT  had  been  my  good  fortune  to  give  to  Mademoiselle  FAUSTINE, 
a  charming  little  actress,  a  tip  for  the  Welter  Plate  last  Spring. 
What  more  natural  than  that  I  should  ask  her  to  give  me  a  din- 
ner as  some  slight  return  ?  She  readily  accepted,  and  asked  me 
to  name  the  day.  Glancing  at  the  sixth  volume  of  my  engage- 
ment book,  I  found  my  first  vacant  date  was  June  18,  '97.  This 
was  fortunate,  as  it  is  hardly  possible — except  at  VOISIN'S — to 
get  a  decent  dinner  unless  you  order  it  a  year  in  advance. 

"  Where  shall  we  dine  ?  "  asked  FAUSTINE. 

"  There  is  only  one  place  where  people  do  dine,"  I  answered,  a 
little  reproachfully.  "  The  Bon  Marche.  I  will  order  the  dinner." 

So  the  place  and  the  date  were  fixed. 

****** 

As  FAUSTINE  was  a  quarter  of  an  hour  late — I  had  not  seen  her 
since  our  arrangement — I  waited  in  the  alabaster  portico  of  the 
Bon  Marche,  chatting  amiably  to  the  courteous  commissionaire, 
an  old  comrade  of  mine  in  the  Wimbledon  days.  JULES,  the 
courteous  chef,  was  au  desespoir.  Why  had  I  not  given  him  more 
notice  ?  Madame  was  fifteen  minutes  late.  If  he  had  only 
known  I  In  a  year  and  fifteen  minutes  it  is  possible  to  cook  a 
dinner.  In  a  year — no.  I  tried  to  calm  the  worthy  fellow — an 
old  ally  of  mine  in  the  Crimean  war.  In  vain ;  he  complained  the 
sardines  were  spoiling.  So  I  went  into  the  dining-room,  nodding 
courteously  to  eight  princes  of  the  blood,  neither  of  whom  ap- 
peared, for  the  moment,  to  recognise  me. 

As  I  seated  myself,  the  entire  staff,  headed  by  a  brass  band, 
brought  me  my  Sardines  a  I'huile.  These  are  a  speciality  of  the 
house,  and  are  never — should  never  be,  at  least — eaten  with  the 
tin.  The  Potage  a  la  potasse  was  quite  excellent.  I  congratu- 
lated the  courteous  chef,  pointing  out  to  him  the  desirability  of 
mixing,  sometimes,  a  little  anti-pyrine  into  the  potassium — both 
drugs  far  too  rarely  used  in  modern  cookery.  Then  came  the 
question  of  wine.  This  I  solved  for  the  moment  by  ordering  two 
Jeroboams  of  STEBESCOPIC  COMPANY  ET  FILS  ;  a  cuvee  of  '80,  abso- 


lutely reserve  for  my  own  use.  As  I  had  engaged  the  entire 
staff  of  waiters,  a  crown  prince,  who  was  entertaining  one  of  our 
leading  bicyclists,  rose  to  leave,  with  his  guest.  I  smiled  and 
nodded  to  them  as  they  passed,  which  appeared  to  hasten  their 
departure. 

The  Moulin  a  vent  was  delicious,  but  the  Dindun  decousu  I 
could  not  pass.  No  self-respecting  gourmet  will  pass  everything 
at  a  dinner. 

GONTRAN,  the  kindly  maitre  d'hotel,  was  almost  in  tears,  but  I 
consoled  him  by  observing  that  the  ostriches  were  cooked  to  a 
turn,  and  the  Bombe  glacee  a  I'anarchiste  faultless. 

But  my  hostess  ?  Where  was  she  ?  Where  was  Mademoiselle 
FAUSTINE?  I  had  quite  forgotten  her  I  I  beckoned  to  HAGEN- 
BOCK,  the  Press  representative  of  the  restaurant,  who  informed 
me  she  had  been  dead  eight  months !  I,  who  read  nothing  but 
menus,  had  omitted  to  notice  this  in  the  papers.  I  was  greatly 
pained.  The  shock  unnerved  me — I  could  eat  no  more.  Besides, 
who  was  now  to  pay  the  bill  ? 

I  reproduce  the  bill. 

Converts,  £5.  Diners,  £36  8s.  Pain,  2s.  Champagne,  £47. 
Liqueurs,  15s.  Addition,  3s. 

In  all,  £89  8s. — (This  is  one  of  the  few  restaurants  where  a 
charge  is  made  for  the  addition.) 

"Make  out  the  bill,"  said  I,  "in  francs,  and  send  it  to  the 
executors  of  Mademoiselle  FAUSTINE." 

II. 

MONSIEUH  VICTOE  DB  TRAiN-DE-LuxB  is  in  many  respects  a  de- 
lightful person.  In  other  ways  he  is  not.  For  instance,  because 
he  was,  accidentally,  the  cause  of  my  backing  a  winner  at  Ascot 
(simply  by  means  of  ordinary  stable  information),  he  had  the 
bad  taste  to  suggest  that  I  should  stand  him  a  dinner. 

I  said,  "  Certainly,  my  dear  Comte  "  (Comte  being  the  courtesy 
title  I  invariably  give  to  foreigners  from  whom  I  have  the  hope 
of  borrowing  money). 

"  Where  shall  it  be  ?  " 

"  There  is  only  one  place  where  one  can  dine,"  I  said. 

"  Of  course — the  Bon  Marche,"  he  replied. 

"  No,"  I  answered.  "  No.  mon  ami.  If  you  wish  to  eat  a 
really  characteristic  English  dinner,  come  to  the  Vegetarian  Res- 
taurant in  Edgware  Road.  Come  along.  Come,  now! " 

"  But  it 's  only  six  o'clock.     I  am  not  hungry." 

"  All  the  better,"  I  replied.  And  I  also  pointed  out  to  him  that 
the  best  way  to  see  London  is  outside  an  omnibus.  So  we 

started. 

****** 

Arrived  at  the  restaurant,  I  was  enthusiastically  received  by 
the  courteous  cashier,  who  presented  me  with  a  previous  bill, 
which,  I  noticed,  had  not  been  receipted.  I  said  I  thought  it 
rather  rude  to  present  a  gentleman  with  a  bill  which  they  hadn't 
taken  the  trouble  to  receipt. 

We  sat  down. 

"  I  'm  glad,"  I  said  to  VICTOR,  "  that  I  didn't  know  this  dinner 
was  coming  off  to-day.  If  I  had  had  notice,  I  might  have  ordered 
it  beforehand  ;  and  a  dinner,  to  be  perfection,  should  be  eaten,  if 
possible,  on  the  day  it  is  cooked.  At  least,  that 's  what  I  always 
think.  I  may  be  wrong." 

Monsieur  DB  TRAIN-DE-LUXE  smiled,  said  I  was  a  farceur,  and 
I  ordered  our  dinner. 

First,  some  turnip  turtle  soup,  then,  ortolans  of  spinach  and 
mashed  potatoes,  followed  by  a  canvas-backed  duck  made  of 
Indian  corn,  and  last,  not  least,  plum-pudding.  As  all  will  agree, 
this  makes  a  very  delicious  and  seasonable  repast.  Long  dinners 
have  quite  gone  out  of  fashion.  And  this  was  washed  down  with 
a  sparkling  bottle  of  Orange  Champagne,  '97. 

My  friend  VICTOR,  who  is  rather  a  gourmet,  was  so  struck  with 
the  first  mouthful  of  soup,  that  he  said  it  was  quite  enough,  ob- 
serving, he  had  never  tasted  anything  like  it. 

Pleased  with  this  praise,  I  asked  his  opinion  of  the  ortolans. 
He  said  that  their  aroma  dispensed  with  the  necessity  for  their 
consumption.  He  was  evidently  surprised. 

When  the  bill  was  presented  by  the  courteous  "  chucker-out," 
we  found  that  most  unluckily  neither  of  us  had  any  money. 

I  append  the  bill. 

Dinners  (for  two),  Is.  9d.     Champagne,  3d.     Total,  2s. 

To  this  I  ought  really  to  add  :  — 

Cab  (for  three)  to  Marylebone  Police  Court,  Is.  6d.  (The  con- 
stable refused  to  walk  without  us.) 

Loss  to  reputation  by  report  of  proceedings,  Sd. 


QUERY. — When  somebody  wishes  to  blacken  somebody  else's 
character  by  uttering  dark  hints  about  him,  wouldn't  he  bsgin  by 
carefully  pitching  his  voice  f 


JDLY  10,  1897.] 


1-rxrii, 


Tin-:   LONDON   CIIAKIVAIM. 


CONSTABLES  IN  COUNCIL. 

INTERLOCUTOR*. 
Placeman  X        .        .    Early  Victorian  Constable. 

I'.i'.Al       .        .        .     Late  Victorian  "Bobby." 

Pleaceman  X.  Veil,  I  ham  blowed  I     Vot  an  egstrawnary  soot. 

I  feels  fair  flummaxed  at  you — as  a  Copper  I 
P.  C.  Al.  Same  here,  old  man  I   That  topper  I    That  there  boot  I 

That  iky  swaller-tail  II!     Ah !  you  'd  look  proper— 
In  a  old-fashioned  pant  ermine,  you  would  I 
PlatMMKM  X.  Veil,  I  esteemed  myself  a  hinnowation 
On  the  hold  Charley  I     I  vas  picktered,  good, 

By  Mister  TITMARMH,  gent  of  heddication, 
And  'andy  with  'is  pencil.     Vich  you  see 

He  took  me  down  and  rote  me  hup,  permiskers. 
/'.  C.  Al.  Lori     I'm  as  like  you  as  great  W.  Q. — 

The  cricket  champion  with  black  beard  and  wiskers — 
Is  like  old  CLARKE,  who  looked  a  bit  like  you, 

If  you  took  horf  your  coat  and  showed  your  braces. 
Didn't  the  boys  just  chivey  and  yah-boo 

You  and  your  mates  where'er  you  showed  your  faces? 
Pleaceman  X.  D'yer  take  me  for  a  Charley,  vich  the  nobs 

Used  for  to  bury  hunder  their  hown  boxes  ? 
No,  no,  PEEL'S  pets  vos  ekal  to  their  jobs, 
As  wigilant  as  sentries,  firm  as  rockses  I 
P.  C.  Al.  Lori  yer  don't  say  so?     Well,  them  Charleys  were 

Hantediluvian  old  himages  I     Hut 
I  must  say  you,  in  huniform  and  hair, — 

Where  did  you  git  them  curious  cowslicks  cut  P — 
Look  a  bit  Noah's  Arky,  dontcher  know  I 

More  like  pew-openers  than  sharp  handy  coppers. 
I  know  one  in  a  Bethel  out  at  Bow, 

Withjust  such  kite-tail'd  coat  and  mutton-choppers. 
Pleaceman  X.  Ah  I  if  you  arsked  A'BBCKKTT,  the  great  beak, 

Or  Mister  THACKERAY  the  novel  riter, 
They  'd  tell  you  as  ve  didn't  stand  no  cheek, 

Altho'  prehaps  our  toggery  vos  tighter. 
Yours— veil,  it  may  be  wery  cumferable, 
But  it  don't  look  hoffishul  or  himposing. 
I  can't  'elp  vonderin"  "ow  you  vill  be  able, 

In  that  there  toonik  loose  and  easy-closing, 
To  strike  street-boys  vith  hor,  or  charm  the  airey  ! 
P.  C.  Al.  Oh,  don't  you  worrit;  gutter-snipes  and  cooky 
We  '11  manage  still.     Lor  bless  yer,  X,  my  MARY 

Tells  me  I  look  as  smart  as  a  swell  booky. 
Our  summer-wear,  long  promised,  keeps  us  cool  : 

June  perspiration  sometimes  was  a  drencher. 
All  we  want  now,  is  to  break  down  that  rule 
As  won't  allow  us  just  a  modest  quencher. 
Ah,  X,  you  should  ha'  felt  that  Jubilee  thust  1 

If  Mister  HK.HNAHD  ABRAHAMS  gits  his  way, 
And  Bobby  is  allowed  to  lay  his  dust 

With  a  cool  tankard — then  we  shall  be  gay  I 

OPERATIC  NOTES. 

Monday. — A  considerable  number  of  those  who  had  been 
Jubileeing  at  the  Royal  Garden  Party,  and  who  had  yet  to  finish 
the  day  at  the  great  reception  of  the  Colonials,  given  by  Sir 
HENRY  IRVING,  at  the  Lyceum,  have  made  a  hurried  dinner — or 
rather,  taken  a  mere  snack — and  have  rushed  to  Covent 
Garden  to  hear  Madame  MELBA  as  Marguerite,  Monsieur  ALVAREZ 
as  Faust,  with  Signor  ANOONA  as  Valentine,  Madame  BRAZZI  as 
Siebel,  and  the  semper  utile-dulci  BAUERMBisiER-singer  as  Marth«, 
in  GOUNOD'S  Faust.  A  first-rate  cast.  Apology  made  for 
the  state  of  M.  PLANCON'S  throat,  but  apparently  it  was  need- 
less, since,  as  Mephistopheles,  he  sang  as  well  as  ever,  and  acted 
better.  Madame  M  KI.IIA  looks  the  German  Oretchen,  who  was  of 
course  a  rather  stolid  kind  of  young  person,  not  inclined  to  be 
over-emotional,  while  her  sinking  is  perfect,  as  is  also  that 
of  Tenor  ALVAREZ.  Faust,  with  an  ordinary  cast,  is  not, 
nowadays,  a  great  attraction  in  itself,  but  to  see  it  with  such  a 
;ast  as  above  given,  the  house  is  crammed.  MKI.HA'S  motto  is, 
'  Better  late  than  never,"  and  that  she  and  ALVAREZ,  wit  h  the 
others,  can,  at  such  a  busy  time,  draw  so  big  a  house,  may  by  a 
wee  bit  reduce  the  compass  of  the  De  Reszkian  voices,  though 
any  Opera-goer  would  be  sorry  to  hear  that  the  Big  Brothers 
should  be  "singing  small." 

Tuesday. — Jubilee  reaction  setting  in.  Covent  Garden  Party 
ixhaiisted  by  Royal  Garden  Party,  and  all  the  rest  of  it — precious 
it-tie  "rest  of  it"  for  anyone,  especially  for  H.R.H.  the  Prince, 
and  other  R.H.'s — yesterday  ;  so  M  anon  sang  to  comparatively 


poor  house  -  not  very  "poor,"  however,  considering  the  diamonds 
glittering  li.-ro  and  there— until  end  of  second  act,  when  house 
itself  again,  or  something  like  it.  Madame  SAVILLJC'S  Marion  U 
popular,  ami  I,  nor  VAN  DYCK,  in  Act  IV.,  came  out  as  strong  as  a 
vocal  Samson,  and,  like  that  muscular  prototype,  "  brought  down 
the  house  "  only  without  any  injury  to  himself.  No  Royalties 
visible.  "Royalties"  paid  possibly  on  performance  of  Opera,— 
but  that  "s  another  story,  and  on  we  goes  again  to 

Wednesday. — Die  Meister.iiitger  at  seven!  House  soon  full 
Royalties  present.  All  must  have  sacrificed  a  meal  to  mu  .1 
Supper  in  prospect.  NED  IJE  RESZKK  in  fine  form  ;  likewise  his 


M.  JEAN  DE  RESZKE  AS  A  MEISTEHSINOKR. 

brother.  Company  generally  at  its  best ;  audience  enthusiastic, 
and  MANOINBLLI,  "called  from  the  vasty  deep"  of  orchestra, 
'  came  when  called,"  and  modestly  bowed  his  acknowledgment  of 
compliment.  Fine  singing,  and  excellent  bit  of  character-acting 
jy  DAVID  BISPHAM  as  Sextus  Beckmesser.  Quintette  at  end  of 
;hird  act,  magnificent.  WAONER  outwagnered  I  Likewise  finale. 
Kanry  that  either  this  hot  weather  agrees  with  "  our  stout  JEAN  " 
as  RESZKE,  who  seems  to  have  become  a  trifle  stouter,  or  the 
leat  has  reduced  the  rotundity  of  t'other  Meistersingers.  Too 
lot  to  consider  problem.  Think  Opera  had  better  tave  com- 
nenced  at  8.30  and  finished  at  1  A.M.  Also  of  opinion  that 
louse,  applauding  so  warmly,  could  have  afforded  to  let  itself 
><•  refrigerated  just  a  bit.  Decided  attraction. 

Friday.—  New  Opera.  Made  in  Germany  by  \\  n  HKI.M  KIENZL, 
and  sung,  here,  in  German.  There  are,  in  Der  Evangelimann,  some 
charmingly  melodious  moments,  when  the  ordinary  Opera-goer  will 
murmur,  "  0  si  sic  omnia  !  "  Whatever  there  might  have  been  of 
real  dramatic  action  in  the  original  plot,  as  first  conceived  by  its 
author,  has  been  ruthlessly  crushed  put  of  it  in  the  course  of 
construction.  There  is  nothing  new  in  the  jealousy  felt  by  the 
elder  for  his  younger  brother,  better  favoured  by  nature,  and 
more  favoured  by  the  lady.  The  heroine  disappears  after  the 
irst  act ! !  The  elder  brother,  capitally  played  and  sung  by  Mr. 
)AVID  BISPHAM,  appears  as  a  sort  of  German  Paul  Pry,  without 
'  I  hope  I  don't  intrude."  In  appearance,  the  younger  brother, 
[uite  an  artistic  triumph  for  M.  VAN  DYCK  ,  calls  to  mind  some 
ild  pictures  of  "Farmer  GEORGE."  Miss  ENOLB,  as  the  Fraulfin 
Martha,  was  excellent.  No  time  or  space  for  details.  We  must 
eave  the  sweets  of  the  Even-jelly-man  until  "  our  next." 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  10,  1897. 


CONFIDENCES. 

Miss  Girton.  "AND  DO  YOU  LIKE  BROWNING?" 

Muscular  Undergraduate.  "WELL,  TJ  TELL  THE  TRUTH,  I  "i>  AS  SOON  READ  A  TIME-TABLE  !' 


DEVONSHIRE  CEfiME  DE  LA 

CR£ME. 

BIGGEST  success  of  the  season.  Triumph 
of  Art-in-town  1  Perhaps  one  of  the 
greatest  hits  of  this  exceptional  festivity 
was  the  appearance  of  my  Lord  ROWTON 
in  two  characters,  as,  according  to  the 
Times  report,  his  Lordship  appeared  as 
"  Archbishop  FAERER  "  and,  "  to  the 
amusement  of  his  friends,  as  Archbishop 
PARKER."  Quite  a  Mr.  Peter  Magnus  in 
his  way,  who,  it  may  be  remembered,  in- 
formed Mr.  Pickwick  how  he  signed  him- 
self "Afternoon,"  because  it  amused  his 
friends.  "  '  It  is  calculated  to  afford  them 
the  highest  gratification,  I  should  con- 
ceive,' said  Mr.  Pickwick,  rather  enjoying 
the  ease  with  which  Mr.  Magnus's  friends 
were  entertained." 

By  the  way,  the  Times  reporter  mentions 
"  the  jewelled  page  of  romance,"  but  does 
not  say  who  wore  this  particular  costume. 
Seeing  that  Lord  ROWTON  took  a  hint  from 
Mr.  Peter  Magnus,  and  amused  his  friends 
by  coming  out  as  a  "  dual  entertainer," 
perhaps  the  "  jewelled  page  of  romance  " 
was  a  Pickwickian  Fat  Boy  of  the  time  of 
"CHARLEY  MANC."  Did  Princess  HENBY 
OF  PI.ESS,  as  the  Queen  of  Sheba, 
carry  a  beautiful  bouquet  furnished  by 
SOLOMON?  Mr.  ARTHUR  BALPOTO  was 
seen  to  advantage  as  "  My  Old  Dutch " 
of  1660,  and  JOSEPH  CHAMBERLAIN 


wore  a  costume  "in  two  shades  of  rose- 
coloured  corded  silk" — quite  the  Unionist, 
though  the  description  of  his  costume 
sounds  "  shady."  Lord  BURTON,  as  Cardi- 
nal DUBOIS,  was  a  study  from  an  old  basso 
relievo.  There  were  "  Napoleons  and  Jose- 
phines "  for  the  benefit  of  Sir  HENRY 
IRVING,  to  whom  the  Napoleonic  variety 
must  have  been  quite  an  "  object-lesson." 
And  this  great  success  "  for  one  night 
only !  "  But,  as  Juliet  observed,  "  Such  a 
night  I  "  Memorable ! 


DISCOVERED  BY  THE  DOCTORS. 
DEAR  MR.  PUNCH,  —  Through  a  fairly 
long  life  I  have  been  more  or  less  a  failure. 
I  could  not  pass  for  my  exam,  to  Sand- 
hurst. I  could  not  run  through  my  matric. 
for  the  University.  I  couldn't  even  get 
called  to  the  Bar  ! 

Hitherto;  this  inability  to  grapple  with 
tasks  seemingly  simple  to  others  hag  puz- 
zled me.  Now  the  reason  of  my  want 
of  success  is  perfectly  clear.  I  find  that 
during  my  infancy,  my  nurse  continually 
deranged  my  circulation,  disturbed  the 
grey  matter  of  my  brain,  and  injured  my 
eyesight.  If  you  hav«  read  the  latest 
medical  opinions,  you  will  be  prepared  for 
what  follows.  I  owe  my  present  wretched 
condition  to  the  fact  that  my  nurse,  when 
I  was  a  baby,  used  a  rocking-chair  I 

A  VICTIM  TO  A  MALEVOLENT  MOVEMENT. 


INVISIBLE  ELEVATION. 

IF  the  cost 's  two-and-ninepence  a  dozen, 

The  charge  five-and-sixpence  a  pair ; 
It  is  not  a  fraud  or  a  cozen, 

'Tis  Trade,  and — presumably — Fair! 
Cork  wedges,  when  called  "  Elevators," 

Do  raise,  if  'tis  only  the  cost, 
'Tis  funny,  to  simple  spectators, 

But  scarce  to  the  simple  who  lost. 
Cork  soles — for  the  heels — at  such  price, 

A  "  new  line  "  in  trade  have  created. 
But  they  out  of  whom  cork  has  taken  this 
rise, 

Can  hardly  feel  much  "elevated." 


LAST  JUBILEE  NOTE. — The  Lord  Mayor, 
Sir  FAUDEL  PHILLIPS,  has  been  having  a 
really  "  high  old  time  "  of  it  during  his 
mayoralty,  and  has  done  everything  admi- 
rably. So  say  all  of  us  !  It  was  one  of 
the  best  sights  in  the  Bestest  Show  that 
ever  was,  to  see  him,  an  accomplished 
rider,  mounted  on  a  high-trotting  horse, 
bowing  right  and  left  to  the  applauding 
citizens.  As  was  observed  by  a  certain 
Eminent  Personage  at  Temple  Bar- -the 
only  "bar"  visited  by  the  thirsty  proces- 
sionists— "  Really,  one  does  not  know 
which  to  admire  most ;  so  we  applaud  both 
the  horse  and  the  MAYOR." 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— JULY  10.  1897. 


"GOD   SPEED! 


JULY  10,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


i 

J 


IN    THE    DOG    DAYS. 

MILITARY  MANCBUTRES  OF  THB  SIXTEENTH  CENTURY. 
"COOLING  HIS  COPPKR." 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

THB  republication  of  CHARLES  LEVER'S  works,  by  Messrs. 
DOWNEY  <fe  Co.,  goes  merrily  on.  The  latest  out  ia  Tom  Burke  of 
OUTS,  which,  if  not  much  of  a  story,  aa  far  as  a  connected  plot 
goes,  is  thrillingly  interesting  aa  a  clear  narrative  of  the  Napo- 
leonic campaigns,  personally  told  by  an  Irish  volunteer,  who, 
after  studying  at  the  Polytechnique  in  the  days  of  the  first 
Consul,  joined  the  French  army,  and,  with  one  brief  interval, 
when  Fate  for  the  first  time  frowned  on  "  the  Man  of  Destiny," 
was  with  the  great  Emperor,  the  tyrannical  Corsican,  from  the 
capitulation  of  Ulm  and  the  overthrow  of  the  Austrian  Empire, 
to  the  last  victory  of  the  French  at  Montereau,  where  the  real 
heroine  of  the  tale,  M  inette,  the  vivandiere,  dies  the  death  of  a 
gallant  soldier, — for  which  the  Baron  cannot  forgive  the  author  of 
her  being,  as  she  ought  to  have  lived  to  be  Mrs.  Tom  Burke— and 
thence  to  the  last  sad  scene  of  all  at  Fontainebleau,  when  "the 
Empire  was  ended ;  and  the  Emperor,  the  mighty  genius  who 
created  it,  was  on  his  way  to  exile."  With  the  restoration  of  the 
Monarchy  the  story  finishes.  Even  now  this  book  exercises  over 
me  a  marvellous  charm.  The  colouring  of  the  historic  pictures  is 
as  bright  as  ever,  the  style  as  dashing,  and  the  whole  narrative 
as  absorbing  as  when  first  I  devoured  it,  years  and  years  ago,  in 
my  little  room  at  Eton. 

If  Mr.  TOM  GALLON  had  written  Tatterly  in  time  for  Messrs. 
HUTCHINSON  to  publish  it  before  The  Cricket  on  the  Hearth 
chirped  in  the  ears  of  a  delighted  world,  it  would  have  had 
itupendous  success.  As  it  is,  the  book  lies  under  the  cloud  that 
broods,  needlessly  in  this  case,  over  the  second  hand.  Mr. 
SALLON  recks  so  little  of  this  that  he  names  his  principal  charac- 
ter by  the  Christian  name  of  the  memorable  Caleb  Plummer. 
But  because  CHARLES  DICKENS  lived  and  wrote,  shall  there  be  no 
more  cakes  and  ale  P  The  world  is  large  enough  for  two  good 
aooks,  and  here  is  a  second.  The  plot  underlying  the  story  of 
Tatterly  is  not  new,  but  the  manner  in  which,  at  a  critical  point, 
its  obvious  course  is  turned  aside,  is  exceedingly  clever.  My 


Baroiute,  in  reading  it,  was  struck  with  its  adaptability  for  the 
stage — wherein  also  it  MMBthtM  the  great  original.     It  in  a  fa 
ory  from  Utmttriut,  OT Svtnfali  to  /'(///,  ,tu.     But  Mr.  KKKKBUUU 
TREK  in  aa  artist  to  whom  nothing  is  impossible.     It  might  b 
worth  hist  while  to  look  up  Tatttrlg,  and  consider  iU  possibUitie.. 
for  the  stage.     Lu  the  meanwhile,  the  reader  will  tind  the  book 
delightful  in  its  pathos,  its  humour,  and  its  humanity. 

The  Natural  History  volume  of  The  Cnnris.-  Knowledge  Library 
edited  by  Mr.  ALFRED  H.  MILES,  just  is,in-,l  by  HUTCHLV 
SON  &  Co.,  is  a  marvel  of  erudition,  condensation,  lucidity,  and 
not  least  striking,  of  cheapness.  For  five  shillings  one  has 
the  chance  of  making  the  personal  acquaintance  of  the  creatures 
upon  the  earth,  under  the  earth,  and  of  those  that  fly  above  its 
surface.  The  text,  contributed  by  an  imposing  array  of  learnci 
men,  is  illustrated  by  upwards  of  five  hundred  original  drawings 
On  the  threshold  of  the  fascinating  study,  my  Baronite  was  con- 
fronted by  the  difficulty  that  the  English  language  does  not 
possess  a  word  of  its  own  that  will  include  all  the  animals  forming 
the  class  known  to  zoologists  as  the  mammalia..  Quadrupeds  is  gome- 
times  loosely  used.  But  the  term  excludes  man  and  includes  the 
turtle.  To  show  how  minute  is  the  inquiry,  it  may  be  stated  that 
not  less  than  nineteen  different  classes  of  worms  are  mentioned. 
Oddly  enough,  reference  to  the  book-worm  is  omitted.  The 
revered  head  of  the  family,  the  erudite  Baron  himself,  is  pass*  :] 
by  as  if  he  were  not.  This  is,  however,  the  only  omission  nottd 
in  eight  hundred  pages,  teeming  with  interest. 

'  Did  I  want  to  visit  the  East,"  quoth  the  Baron,  "  I  would  take 
my  Davey,— I  mean,  I  should  take  my  RICHARD  DAVKY  with  me, 
represented  by  his  two  volumes  (CHAPMAN  AND  HALL)  about  The 
Sultan  and  his  Subjects;  the  SULTAN  now  having  become  one  of 
Mr.  DAVIT'S  subjects."  But  the  Baron  is  pained  by  the  want  of 
confidence  shown  by  Mr.  DAVBY  towards  bis  readers,  as,  knowing 
so  much,  and  having  had  such  unusual  advantages,  he  pauses  on 
the  threshold  of  the  harem,  turns  round  to  his  reading  followers, 
and  saying,  with  a  wink, "  Wait  here  till  I  come  out,"  disappears, — 
and  when  he  does  return,  to  hia  anxious  inquirers  he  has  not  a 
word  to  say — not  a  word — no  more  than  had  Bottom,  the  weaver, 
when  he  came  back  from  the  wonders  of  Fairyland.  Now,  what 
is  the  use  of  having  the  run  of  a  harem  or  two  if  you,  're  to  hold 
pour  tongue  for  ever  afterwards?  No,  Mr.  RICHARD  Cairo  DB 
LION  DAVEY,  you  just  give  us  another  volume,  and  speak  out  I 
THB  BARON  DB  B.-W. 

"  FINIS,  COBONAT." 

ROYAL  Academy  Soiree  at  Burlington  House  last  Thursday, 
'rowded  house.  "Here  we  go  up,  up,  up"  the  grand  staircase, 
overcrowded  at  first,  but  soon  cleared  as  guests  gradually  melt 
— it  was  not  by  any  means  the  hottest  night  of  the  season — and 
disperse  to  "  do "  the  pictures  and  to  "  do  themselves "  uncom- 
monly well  in  the  refreshment  department.  President  Sir  EDWAKD 
and  Lady  POYNTRR,  receiving  everyone  with  hearty  courtesy, 
wonder  what  has  become  of  Colonial  Premiers.  There  are  pre- 
ent  gorgeous  Indiana,  magnificent  colourists,  but  no  Colonial 
premiers  I  Then  it  ia  reported  that  they  are  all  dining  at  the 
Mansion  House,  and  that  genially  hospitable  Sir  FACDBL  won't 
lear  of  their  leaving  the  banquet  until  they've  "finished  the 
iot tin"  and  drunk  all  the  toasts. 

At  11.30,  no  Colonials  I     At  midnight,  "the  cry  is  still  they 

:ome,"  but  haven't  yet  arrived.     "  O  where  and  O  where  are  my 

!!o-lo-ni-als  t  "  hums  the  President,  who,  after  shaking  hands  with 

everybody,  may  now  shake  hands  with  himself,  in  congratulation 

on  the  success  of  the  reception — even  without  the  Colonial  Pre- 

niers,  who,  it  appears,  were  late  in  arriving    at   the   Mansion 

louse  banquet,  and  are  now  being  detained  oy  my  Lord  SALIB. 

UBY'S  post-prandial  eloquence. 

Mr.  JOSEPH  CHAMBERLAIN  has  yet  a  speech  to  deliver,  but  he 
must  keep  it  in  his  pocket  for  another  occasion,  as  the  Colonials 
can't  stand  any  more  just  now,  and,  if  they  go  anywhere,  they 
re  bound  for  the  Academy  Soiree  at  Burlington  House. 
At  this  late  hour,  as  long  as  everyone  can  intelligibly  articulate 
'  Bri'sh  consh'tooshun,"  we  know,  on  the  authority  of  LEECH'S 
>irt  uiv,  that  they  must  be  "  all  right,"  and  in  a  fit  state  to  "join 
he  ladies."     But  whether  the  Colonial  Premiers  and  their  Pre- 
mieres ever  did  reach  Burlington  House  this  deponent  is  unable 
o  say,  having  retired  from  the  gay  and  festive  nails  of  dazzling 
gut  on  the  stroke  of  half-past  midnight. 

A  Question  for  the  New  Woman. 
(By  an  Old  Jfan.) 

MISOOVERMMXNT  has  marred  mankind's  content. 
Will  things  be  bettered  by  Miss-government  ? 


10 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  10,  1897. 


Mr.  MacSimius.  ' '  WELL,  Oi  DON'T  PROFESS  TO  BE  A  PARTICULARLY 

CULTIVATED   MAN    ME8ELF  ;    BUT    AT    LA8TE    ME    PROGENITORS    WERE 
ALL  EDUCATED  IN  THE   HoiGHER   BRANCHES  !  " 


AUGUSTE  EN  ANGLETERRE. 

AT  PORTMOUTH. 

DEAR  MISTER, — All  the  world  has  spoken,  and  speaks  again,  of 
the  Jubilee.  Me  I  can  not  to  render  count  of  all  the  impressions 
of  that  unforgetable  day.  I  shall  say  all  simply  that  I  saw  the 
magnificent  procession^  that  I  held  myself  upright,  the  hat  to  the 
hand,  for  to  salute,  with  the  most  great  respect,  your  illustrious 
and  venerable  QUEEN,  that  I  saw  the  illumination  the  evening, 
and  that  all  the  day  and  all  the  night,  I  ceased  not  of  to  admire 
the  brave  agents  of  police,  and  the  honest  burgesses  who  pro- 
menaded themselves  so  tranquilly.  And  see  there  all  1 

But  I  go  to  tell  you  how  I  am  gone  to  Portmouth  to  see  this 
astonishing  spectacle  of  the  english  fleet.  Being  stranger  I  avoid 
the  great  crowds,  where  the  english  themselves  can  voyage  but 
with  difficulty.  Therefore  I  go  not  the  day  of  the  review,  I 
attend  even  just  to  Wednesday  last,  and  then  in  fine  I  lift  myself 
of  very  good  morning,  I  entrap  a  train  of  very  good  hour,  I  arrive 
to  Portmouth  before  midday,  and  I  hasten  myself  of  to  embark  on 
a  steamboat  for  to  make  the  turn  of  the  fleet.  Ah,  what  superb 
blow  of  eye  1  Me  I  am  that  which  you  call  "  landman,"  I  know 


not  of  all  the  diverse  parts  of  a  vessel,  at  pain  have  I  learnt  the 
words  "starboard"  and  "portboard,"  and,  however,  I  find  all 
that  a  spectacle  truly  magnificent.  He  makes  a  superb  time,  the 
sea  is  calm,  she  is  even  blue,  and  the  sky — eh  well,  it  is  an  english 
sky.  but  almost  blue  when  even,  quand  meme. 

He  arrives  by  hazard  that  the  bailment  de  guerre,  the  building 
of  war — that  which  you  call  a  "  warman  " — of  the  Germans  is 
parted.  Eh  well,  that  is  equal  to  me  I  One  has  said  me  that 
it  was  the  sole  warman,  enough  as  he  must,  whom  the  Emperor 
WILLIAM  could  to  find.  What  drole  of  idea  I  Figure  to  yourself, 
Mister  Punch,  the  Emperor  who  demands  something  that  he  can 
not  to  obtain  I  Man  Dieu,  quel  tohu-bohu  d,  Berlin!  At  the 
future,  after  to  have  heard  to  speak  of  this  great  english  fleet, 
the  Emperor  perhaps  will  not  amuse  himself  so  much  to  send 
some  telegrams  to  his  friend  Mister  KRUOER.  A  la  bonne  heure  ! 

I  «ee  the  warman  of  the  Austrians,  and  that  of  the  Russians, 
and  the  flag — ah;  the  dear  threecolour  I — of  my  country.  What 
pleasure  I  And  in  fine  the  warman  of  the  Japanese,  very  chic, 
with  the  enormous  flag  of  the  chrysanthemum.  But  these  here, 
the  vessels  of  the  strangers,  are  little  of  thing.  In  face  extends 
herself  an  interminable  line  of  the  most  great  warmans,  the  magni- 
ficent fleet  of  your  country.  Permit,  Mister  Punch,  that  I  offer 
to  you,  me,  although  stranger  and  landmanj  to  you  as  represen- 
tant  of  your  nation,  my  most  warm  felicitations.  Hope  we  that 
the  threeoolour  and  the  union  John  may  never  encounter  them- 
selves, excepted,  as  at  Portmouth,  in  amical  neighbours.  Then 
even  the  fleets  of  Mister  KRUGER  and  of  the  Emperor  WILLIAM, 
the  two  re-united  under  the  orders  of  a  swiss  admiral,  would 
never  dare  to  attack  the  most  small  little  torpilleur,  english  or 
french.  See  there,  as  says  the  great  SHAOKSPIR,  "  a  consomma- 
tion  most  devoutly  to  desire."  Une  consommation !  Ah,  un 
toast — toast,  a  french  word  whom  one  may  to  translate  "  a  drink." 
Drink  we  then  to  the  cordial  amity  of  the  two  fleets,  english  and 
french!  Agree,  &c.,  AUGUSTE. 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

An  Engaged  young  Man,  inspired  by  the  presence  of  his  Lady-love, 
gets  up  early  at  a  Country  House. 

I  SAT  in  a  garden  upon  a  green  lawn, 

Fenced  around  with  a  rampart  of  yew ; 
'Mid  the  flowers  that  welcomed  the  coming  of  dawn, 

While  shedding  their  circlets  of  dew. 
The  blackbird  made  merry  with  pipe  of  delight, 

The  thrush  cried,  "  Hallo ! "  to  the  morn. 
For  the  joy  of  the  thought  of  the  death  of  the  night, 

And  the  joy  of  another  day  born. 

There  I  sat,  'mid  the  flowers,  where  roses  were  fain, 

And  larkspur  with  clematis  met, 
Where  the  lily  looked  down  with  a  lofty  disdain 

On  the  charms  of  the  coy  mignonette. 
Where  geraniums  flushed  with  a  ripe,  ardent  red, 

And  forget-me-nots  answered  with  blue, 
To  the  signal  the  heaven  was  giving  o'er  head, 

In  its  eloquent  promising  hue. 

I  looked  at  your  window  with  rapture  and  bliss, 

And  longed  just  a  creeper  to  be, 
To  tap  at  your  lattice  and  whisper  a  kiss, 

A  dainty  "  good-morrow  "  from  me, 
Just  to  tell  you  my  love,  and  so  I  drew  near 

To  that  spot  where  I  'd  oft  been  before, 
In  softest  of  accents  I  made  myself  clear, 

And  you  answered  me — Yes !  with  a  snore ! 


FABULA  NAERATUE. — Mivros  is  a  playwright,  with  a  note-book, 
a  good  memory,  and  a  faculty  for  assimilation  and  adaptation. 
"  Good  tempered  fellow  is  MIVIUS,"  observed  a  friend  ;  '  always 
ready  to  take  a  joke."  "  Yes,"  quickly  returned  a  sayer  of  good 
things,  who  had  suffered  from  MIVIUS'  cleverness.  "  Very  ready 
to  take  a  joke — from  anyone — and  use  it." 


Charity  at  Home. 

(Mr.  Punch's  Tip.) 

THOTTQH  this  Jubilee  Year  has  brought  claims  of  all  kind 
On  the  purse  of  the  lovely  and — well,  say  the  less  sex, 

While  for  India  and  Hospitals  "  raising  the  wind," 
Forget  not  our  storm-ruined  farmers  in  Essex  1 


JUM  10,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


11 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

KXTUACTKI)     FROM     THK    DlAHT     OF    TOBY,    M.P. 

Souse  of  Commons,  Monday,  Jvne  28. — 
PHIL  MAT  onoe  drew  in  these  pages  a  scene 
humorous  or  pathetic  according  to  the 
mood  of  the  looker-on.  Three  figures  are 
shown  outside  a  public-house.  One,  a 
stout,  frowsy,  angered  woman,  holding  by 
the  hand  a  crying  child,  addresses  her 
bibulous  lord  and  master  with  the  inquiry, 
"  Will  you  come  'ome?"  He,  as  yet  in  a 
Denial  Saturday-night  condition,  replies, 
"I'll  do  ellythil  you  like  in  roasol,  M'ui.v 
(hie),  bur  I  won't  come  'ome." 

Thought  of  this  picture  to-night  when 
PRINCB  ARTHUR  strategically  endeavoured 


HOUB  SECRETARY  didn't  think  it  even 
necessary  to  urge  claims  of  measure  on 
favourable  attention  of  House.  Moved 
second  reading  by  the  hat  signal.  SPEAKER 
put  question ;  seemed  about  to  be  carried 
as  matter  of  course,  when  Members  below 
gangway  challenged  decision  that  the  Ayes 
had  it.  Then  Ministers  began  to  smell  a 
rat.  PRINCE  ARTHUR,  looking  hurriedly 
round  the  forces  on  either  side,  saw  it 
moving  in  the  air.  Nothing  to  be  done  but 
divide.  After  division,  the  clerk  handed 
to  DAI./.IKI.  the  paper  containing  figures. 
That  meant  Government  were  defeated. 
Loud  shout  went  up  from  jubilant  Opposi- 
tion. "Resign!  resign  I"  they  shouted,  a 
good  old  Parliamentary  joke  that  never 
loses  its  freshness. 


Tuenlay. — Ministers  come  up  smiling  to- 
day as  if  nothing  hud  happened.  Yet  they 
have  accomplished  a  feat  worthy  of  Jubilee 
year.  Never  before  in  England's  story  did 
a  constitutional  Government,  beaten  in 
three  successive  divisions,  calmly  continue 
to  carry  on  the  QUEEN'S  Government. 

"I  must  say,"  I  hinted  to  PRINCE 
ARTHUR,  as  we  walked  down  to  the  House 
together  this  afternoon,  "  I  thought,  after 
the  second  division,  you  would  have  ad- 
vised tho  QUEEN  to  send  for  DALZIBL  and 
LLOYD  GEORGE.  Not  that  I  think  they 
would  have  been  able  to  form  a  Ministry. 
The  SAQB  OF  QUEEN  ANNE'S  GATE  would 
have  been  quite  at  home  at  the  Foreign 
Office,  and  CALDWELL  would  know  his  way 
about  the  Scotch  Office.  But  TANNER 


OUR  ARTIST  HAS   (MORE  OR   LESS)    REASON  TO   BELIEVE  THAT  ARRANGEMENTS  WERE    MADE    TO    ENABLE    THE    IlUSII    MEMBERS  TO   BE 

PRESENT  IN  WINDSOR  CASTLE,  ON  SATUBDAY,  JULY  3,  QUIT*  UNSUSPECTED,  AND  CONSEQUENTLY  WITHOUT  LOSS  OF  PREHTIGB  IN  IRELAND. 


to  escape  from  a  quandary  by  moving  ad- 
journment of  House.  "  We  '11  do  anything 
in  reason,  PRINCE  ARTHUR,"  said  the  Oppo- 
sition, "  but  we  won't  go  home."  As  usual 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  bolt  fell  out  ot 
blue  sky.  Through  question  hour  nothing 
to  indicate  that,  before  dinner-bell  rang, 
strongest  Government  of  modern  times 
would  be  thrice  beaten  in  division  lobby. 

Benches  on  both  sides  nearly  empty. 
Everybody  except  the  Blameless  and 
Spartan  BARTLEY  gone  to  Buckingham 
Palace  for  garden  party.  Seemed  just  one 
of  nights  when  heaps  of  business  might  be 
shovelled  over.  This  anticipation  realised 
by  rapidity  with  which  London  Water 
Companies  Bill  passed  second  reading.  No 
one  liked  it ;  some  kicked  it ;  its  party 
friends  pleaded  that  it  was  at  least  harm- 
less. But  they  let  it  pass. 

Crisis  crashed  down  on  obscure,  inno- 
cent-looking measure  local  to  Isle  of  Man. 


PRINCB  ARTHUR,  with  great  presence  of 
mind,  moved  adjournment  of  House.  It 
he  could  only  get  these  fellows  away, 
further  embarrassment,  even  possible  dan- 
ger, would  be  avoided.  Young  lions  below 
the  gangway  not  so  easily  disposed  of. 
They  were  masters  of  the  situation  ;  would 
remain  to  enjoy  it  as  long  as  possible.  Any- 
thing in  reason,  M 'HI  A,  but  they  would  not 
go  home.  On  a  second  division  they  had  fresh 
triumph.  Yea,  on  a  third  they  beat  the 
hapless  Government.  But  BLUCHER  was 
coming  up  from  Buckingham  Palace.  He 
arrived  in  haste,  generally  in  white  waist- 
coat, always  in  frock  coat.  He  came  in  in 
twos  and  threes,  in  tens  and  in  scores. 
PRINCE  ARTHUR,  feeling  the  reinforce- 
ments WIT.-  sufficient,  made  a  final  charge, 
sweeping  the  enemy  off  the  field  with  a 
majority  of  nearly  two  to  one. 

Business  done.  —Government  thrice  de- 
feated in  tho  division  lobby. 


would  never  have  done  as  Chief  Secretary 
to  the  Lord  Lieutenant,  and  it  is  well 
known  he  will  take  nothing  else.  There- 
fore, in  following  the  ordinary  course,  you 
would  have  haa  the  satisfaction  of  ob- 
serving constitutional  usage  without  risk- 
ing personal  or  party  advantage." 

"I  daresay  you  are  right,  TOBY.  In  fact, 
I  fully  admit  you  are.  But  you  must  make 
some  allowance  for  my  position.  It  was  all 
so  sudden ;  no  chance  of  consulting  the 
MAKKISS.  I  'm  bound  to  say  I  don't 
hold  you  altogether  free  from  responsi- 
bility in  the  matter.  I  'm  not  superstitious 
or  given  to  blench  before  omens.  At  same 
time,  I  cannot  forget  that  two  years  ago 
this  very  month  you  went  off  with  Mr.  G., 
tripping  it  in  the  Tantallon  Cattle  for 
opening  of  Kiel  Canal.  When  you  left, 
nothing  seemed  more  remote  than  Minis- 
terial crisis.  When  you  came  back,  you 
found  the  Government  defeated,  the  coun- 


12 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[JUI.Y  10,  1897. 


THE    ANCIENT    EGYPTIAN    HENLEY    REGATTA. 


try  on  eve  of  general  election.  Now  you  go 
off  with  Admiral  of  the  (White  Star)  Fleet 
ISMAY  to  Naval  Review.  You  leave  us  with 
a  majority  of  over  a  hundred  and  forty, 
apparently  stronger  than  the  forts  at  Spit- 
head.  After  three  days'  absence,  you  come 
back  to  see  us  beaten  in  division  lobby,  not 
once  nor  twice,  but  thrice.  It  may  be 
accident,  a  mere  coincidence.  I  confess  it 
looks  a  little  uncanny.  Next  time  you  con- 
template one  of  these  alluring  trips,  I  beg 
you  will,  for  the  sake  of  old  friendship,  give 
me  timely  notice.  I'll  take  care  that  till 
you  are  back  again,  there  shall  oe  no 
chance  opening  for  the  adversary  such  as 
he  has  found  to-night." 

Business  done.  —  Budget  Bill  through 
Committee. 

Thursday. — A  pleasant,  restful  evening 
with  Scotch  business.  Education  first. 
Congested  districts  to  follow.  Some  first- 
rate  speaking  on  earlier  subject ;  but  de- 
bate hopelessily  suffered,  as  debates  do 
with  Ministerial  majority  of  140,  from 
inevitableness  of  conclusion.  LORD  ADVO- 
CATE, in  charge  of  Bill,  did  his  best  to  keep 
up  flagging  spirits.  To  pass  round  the 
usquebaugh  at  a  particularly  dull  moment, 
or  to  give  a  twirl  of  the  pipes  when  any- 
one in  the  company  is  seen  nidnodding,  a 
natural  impulse.  But  GRAHAM  MURRAY 
feels  it  would  shock  Southern  prejudice. 
So  when  his  watchful  eye  observed  signs  ot 
yawning,  he  handed  round  a  little  sum. 

"I  will  not,"  he  said,  at  one  perilous 
juncture,  "  stop  to  do  the  sum  myself. 
Probably  hon.  gentlemen  will  work  it  out 
for  themselves  as  I  go  along.  If  eleven- 
eighteenths  of  £44,000  shew  us  where  Scot- 
land stands  under  this  Bill,  where  will  Eng- 
land be  supposing,  instead  of  sticking  to 
the  17s.  6rf.  limit,  you  take  the  proportion 
of  11  to  80,  and  give  Scotland  21  instead 
of  11  ?  " 

That  may  not  convey  anything  definite 
to  the  Southern  mind.  But  you  should 
have  seen  the  Scotch  Members  figuring  it 
out  on  their  copies  of  the  orders  I  LORD 
ADVOCATE,  watching  them  out  of  one 
corner  of  his  eye.  went  on  with  his  speech. 
When  he  saw  spirits  of  audience  drooping 
again,  handed  round  another  sum. 

Quite  a  new  development  of  Parlia- 
mentary debate.  But,  as  SARK  says,  at 


one  time  nigger  minstrels  were  novelty  at 
Primrose  meetings.  And  see  how  they 
took  on,  returning  Unionist  Government 
with  unparalleled  majority.  Anyhow, 
GRAHAM  MURRAY  carried  his  Bill,  though, 
as  CAWMELL-BANNERMAN  cannily  said,  he 
was  the  only  Scotch  Member  on  either  side 
who  expressed  cordial  approval  of  its  prin- 
ciples. Business  done. — A  heap. 

Friday. — Rare  to  find  a  man  endowed 
with  dual  gift  of  speaking  and  writing. 
W7here  phenomenon  exists,  the  platform 
style  is  quite  distinct  from  the  literary. 
An  exception  in  the  case  of  Member  for 
West  Fife.  Picking  up  in  reading-room 
just  now  that  admirable  weekly,  The 
Speaker,  read  article  entitled  "The  John- 
sonian Legend."  Hadn't  got  through  first 
paragrapfi  before  I  murmured,  "  BIRRELL 
or  Beelzebub."  Turning  over  page,  found 
it  wasn't  Beelzebub.  Article  reads  exactly 
like  BIRRELL  talks ;  an  admirable  style. 
unique,  as  all  really  good  styles  are,  beimr 
as  much  a  t>art  of  a  man  as  his  nose  or  hi? 
ears.  A.  B.  is  steeped  in  the  spirit,  fla- 
vour, and  colour  of  eighteenth  century 
literature,  adding  to  it  a  certain  delight- 
fully sly  humour,  born  of  Scotch  lineage, 
tempered  by  English  birth  and  Bar  asso- 
ciations. 

TJuxinrux  dnnf. — Irish  votes  in  Com- 
mittee of  Supply. 


NOTES  BY  A  COUNTRY  NATURALIST. 

THE  PLEASURES  OF  JULY. 

THE  fly  season  has  now  begun,  and  bald- 
headed  people  should  be  provided  with  the 
new  patent  "  catch-'em-alive-oh  !  "  cap. 

Earwigs  have  wakened  up,  and  are  very 
busy  in  their  invasions  on  to  pillows,  which 
do  not  belong  to  them. 

Ants  are  swarming,  and  disregard  all 
attempts  to  keep  them  off  gravel  paths  or 
out  of  sculleries. 

Moths  make  a  fine  display  at  night. 
Sometimes  by  a  dexterous  hit  an  expert 
cricketer  may  hit  one  to  leg  off  his  lamp  or 
candle. 

Snails  and  slugs  take  up  their  summer 
quarters  on  rose  bushes,  strawberry  plants, 
lettuces,  and  those  peas  which  the  sparrows 
have  not  already  consumed. 


Green  fly  and  black  blight  are  generally 
vieing  with  caterpillars  in  the  destruction 
of  vegetable  life. 

Spiders  have  a  knack  of  dropping  on  the 
liuman  body,  but  they  totally  disregard 
their  natural  prey.  Midges  are  undis- 
turbed by  tobacco  smoke,  and  bluebottles 
and  gnats  help  themselves. 


REFLECTIONS  ON  A  BROKEN  ENGAGEMENT. 

WE  parted — cheerfully  I     Yet  now 

I  've  fallen  into  disrepute 
With  nearly  all  her  friends,  who  vow 

That  she  's  an  angel,  I  'm  a  brute  ; 
Black  isn't  black  enough  for  me, 

My  conduct  will  not  bear  inspection — 
A  statement  which  I  hold  to  be 

Fair  food  for  critical  reflection. 

We  parted.     The  consummate  ease 

With  which  "  united  hearts  "  can  range 
From  their  allegiance,  if  they  please, 

But  illustrates  the  laws  of  change. 
The  thoughts  and  tastes  of  yester  year 

Fall  under  Father  Time's  correction — 
This  is  not  critical,  I  fpiir, 

But  platitudinous  reflection! 

We  parted.     She  had  quite  a  pack 

Of  friends,  "  nice  boys,"  as  she  avowed  ; 
She  called  them  BOB,  and  DICK,  and  JACK, 

And  I  was — one  amongst  the  crowd. 
I  did  not,  people  may  infer, 

Possess  entire  her  young  affection — 
Yet,  be  it  understood,  on  her 

I  cast  no  shadow  or  reflection ! 

Wo  parted.     Men  cannot  persist 

In  playing  uncongenial  parts — 
I  was  a  keen  philatelist, 

Her  hobby  was  collecting — hearts ! 
A  simple  case.     I  did  not  pine 

To  add  my  heart  to  her  collection, 
She  had  no  stamps  to  add  to  mine, 

We  parted — wisely,  on  reflection! 


A  WONDERFUL  LINER.  —  A  New  York 
paper  states  that  a  boat  is  shortly  to  be 
launched  which  will  cross  the  Atlantic  in 
sixty-five  hours.  The  motive  power  is 
gasoline.  Mr.  Punch  believes  that  this 
ought  to  be  spelt  "  gas  o'  lying." 


JULT  17,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


13 


Our  Poetess.  "Do  NOT  TALK  TO  ME  OF  DINNER,  EDWIN. 

STAY  BY  THIS  BEAUTIFUL  SEA,    AND  DRINK  IT  ALL  7*7" 

Bill  the  Boatman.  "  LOR  !    SHE  's  A  THIRSTY  ONE  TOO  !  " 


I    MUST 


AUGUSTE  EN  ANGLETERRE. 
AT  THE  THEATRE. 

DEAR  MISTER, —  At  the  month  of  July  when  he  makes  ordi- 
narily so  hot,  we  other  French  we  go  rarely  to  the  theatre.  In 
effect  during  this  month  here  one  amuses  himself  rather  where 
the  windows  are  all  great  open,  or  yet  better  in  a  garden  in  full 
air.  When  one  desires  even  to  sleep  at  the  beautiful  star,  d,  la 
belle  etoile,  one  loves  not  to  be  shut  in  an  atmosphere  so  suffoca- 
ting. But  at  London  it  is  not  "avtres  temps,  auires  mceurs," 
for  the  other  manners  are  at  the  same  time,  and  the  brave  Eng- 
lish, mans  and  womans  equally,  can  to  support  the  atmosphere 
of  the  theatre,  calm  and  correct  as  at  the  ordinary. 

I  admire  much  your  theatres.  I  go  not  to  pronounce  a  dis- 
course on  the  artists  of  the  theatre  in  England.  I  have  seen  of 
them  many — Sir  IRVING,  Mister  HARE,  Mister  WINDAM.  and, 
there  is  some  time,  him  who  has  the  double  title.  Sir  Esquire 
BANCKROFT.  And  the  ladys  also — Lady  TERRY,  Lady  Esquire 
BANCKROFT,  Missis  PATRICK-CAMBELL,  and  some  others. 

Since  the  feasts  of  the  Jubilee,  the  number  of  the  spectacles 
diminishes.  And,  thing  enough  droll,  several  among  them  are 
not  english.  When  he  makes  too  much  hot  for  to  play  at  Paris, 
the  french  artists  come  to  London,  and  the  other  strangers  also. 
Thus,  by  example,  the  English,  who  study  not  the  stranger 
languages  as  the  Russians  or  the  Austrians,  can  to  go  to  see  at 
London  Missis  BERNHARDT,  Missis  REJANE  or  Missis  ODILON. 
Ah,  the  charming  artist  of  Vienna,  so  gay,  so  admirable  1  I  am 
gone  to  see  her,  and  I  am  enchanted.  Sometimes  also  the  Lon- 
donians  can  to  see  Missis  DUSE,  or  COQUELIN  youngster,  without 
to  speak  of  the  Opera,  where  some  singers,  polonish  or  Italian, 
sing  in  french  some  german  operas  before  the  english  as  -(stance. 

All  lastly  I  am  gone  to  see  the  french  artists  several  t  imes.  I 
know  so  well  the  pieces,  and  I  have  seen  the  artists  so  often,  that 
I  find  myself  as  at  me,  comme  ehez  mm.  But  the  theatre  it  is 
not  the  same  thing.  I  have  remarked  that  at  the  moment  of  to 
arrive,  for  I  encounter  not  the  merchant  of  programmes  at  the 
entry.  It  is  true  that  one  offers  to  me  a  translation  of  the  piece 
— to  me,  what  droll  of  idea !  Then  at  the  interior  one  finds  not 
three  men,  installed  behind  a  counter,  who  have  the  air  of  magis- 
trates, and  after  that  some  openers,  ouvreuses,  enough  old  and 


enough  ugly.  Ah  no !  In  England  the  openers  are  young  and 
often  pretty,  and  they  are  so  genteel,  gentilles,  that  one  buys 
almost  volunteerly,  volontiers,  a  miserable  programme,  coverec 
of  announces,  at  six  pennys.  It  is  not  the  charming  little  pro- 
gramme of  L  Illustration  which  one  receives  gratis  in  thp  thc;iin- 
of  Paris,  nor  the  self-saying  journal,  which  one  buys  at  two 
pennys ;  it  is  all  simply  a  liat  of  the  artists,  surrounded  of  re 
clamations,  reclames.  See  there  one  thing  which  I  admire  not. 

In  effect  all  costs  more  dear  than  at  Paris.  An  armchair  of  orches- 
tra at  ten  shillings  six  pennys  JH  enough  dear  ;at  twenty  and  OMI-. 
or  even  at  twenty-five  shillings,  as  at  the  Opera,  it  is  too  much  dear. 
One  time;  for  to  see  Missis  BKKNHARDT  at  the  Adelphi,  I  pay 
twelve  shillings  six  pennyn  for  an  armchair  of  balcony,  and  I  see 
not  anything,  absolutely  not  anything  exr-ept<"l  tin.  heads  of  the 
spectators  pushed  in  before,  penchees  en  avant.  There  is  even 
some  persons  at  the  last  rank  who,  seeing  not  anything  from  their 
places,  hold  themselves  upright  all  the  time,  and  pay  more  than 
fifteen  francs  for  that.  It  is  very  bad  arranged  that  balcony  there. 

It  is  true  that  the  most  part  of  the  theatres  are  better  aerated 
than  at  Paris,  that  the  armchairs  of  orchestra  are  more  Urge  and 
more  comfortable,  and  that  the  ladys  are  all  in  great  toilet,  so 
that  the  scene  is  not  entirely  hidden  by  a  hat  of  the  most  gigan- 
tic*, that  which  arrives  so  often  at  Paris.  Truly  this  part  of  the 
londonian  theatres,  filled  of  adorable  ladys  in  robes  of  evening, 
the  hairs  graciously  arranged,  and  not-  covered  of  hat»,  is  abso- 
lutely charming  to  see,  and  has  the  air  of  a  flat  band,  plate-bande, 
of  flowers.  But  even  for  that  I  love  not  to  pay  two  times, 
almost  three  times,  more  dear  than  at  Paris. 

Agree,  Ac.,  AUGUSTS. 

PREMIER  PUNCH  TO  COLONIAL  PREMIERS. 

[Sir  EDWARD  BRVDDON,  Premier  of  Tasmania,  epeaking  at  a  meeting 
convened  by  the  British  Empire  League,  "  to  welcome  the  Colonial  Premiers 
to  the  City  of  London,"  said  "  He  would  leave  this  country — that  was,  if  he 
lived  to  do  so— bitterly  disappointed  if  some  steps  were  not  taken  to  forward 
that  which  would  bring  the  mother  country  and  the  colonies  closer  together."] 

"  A  MISS  is  as  good  as  a  mile,"  it  has  been  said  ; 

But  not  as  good  as  a  (British  Empire)  League! 
To  bring  Imperial  Unity  to  a  head, 

Without  compulsion  as  without  intrigue, 
Is  our  joint  hope,  and  would  we  might  compute 
That  "  Ce  n'est  que  le  'Premier'  pas  qui  cotite"  ! 


OPERATIC  NOTES. 

Monday. — Oar  old  friend  Lea  Huguenots.  Poor  MAGGIE 
MACINTYKE  ill,  and  replaced  by  Mile.  PAOARY.  Good  house. 
Good  performance.  A  LVAREZ  in  floe  voice,  and  Baritone  RENAUD, 
a  name  suggestive  of  gay  duellist  in  Comoro  Brothers,  excellent  as 
Comte  de  jVfi'er«-too-late-to-mend.  MARIE  ENOLE  raised  herself 
in  public  opinion  by  her  "Sister  MART  JANE'S  top  note"  in 
the  Queen's  song,  and  PLAHCON  sang  con  brio  as  St.  Bris.  Opera 
completed  by  Mile.  BAUERMBISTER  as  Dame  tfHonneur.  But 
what  character  cannot  she  play  with  distinction  ?  Wonderful 
BAUERMBiBTER-singeress !  Cannot  M.  FLOW,  the  conductor, 
iurry  on  the  operatic  omnibus  ?  O  those  "  waits  "  between  the 
acts  f  Why  remind  us  that  "  Christmas  is  coming,"  by  lugging 
in  "  the  Waits  "  between  the  acts  ? 

Friday,  at  8.—"  Original  version"  of  Le  Nozzedi  Figaro,  with 
BMMA  EAHKS,  aristocratically  charming  as  La  Contetta,  and  first 
appearance  here  of  Mile.  CLEMENTINE  I>K  VKKK  as  Susannt. 
'I.EMENTINB  not  remarkable  for  anything  in  particular.  NED  DK 
BESZKE  quite  the  Count,  married  and  unsettled ;  ANCONA  a 
dapper  Figaro:  COHSI,  a  burlesque  Basilio;  and  Dotty  Dottore 
Bartolo  conventionally  represented  by  "  Vive  Lempriere"  PRINOLK  ! 
ZELIE  DE  LUSSAN,  en  garcon,  a  buxom,  boyish  Cherubirto,  more  like 
lerself  than  ever  when  "disguised"  as  a  girl.  And — quite  a 
novice  as  Marcellina  .  .  .  guess  ?  .  .  .  Operatic  management's 
iroverb  .  .  .  — "When  in  doubt  play  BAUEBMEISTER."  Re- 
lowned  RANDBOOER  conscientiously  conducted;  and  Mr.  DOL- 
VETSCH,  somewhere  down  below,  accompanied  the  recitatives  on 
an  ancient  harpsichord,  whose  peculiar  sound  is  rather  suggestive 
of  orchestra  having  been  re-inforced  by  TINNEY. 

Saturday. — New  Opera  by  FREDERIC  REGNAL,  "first  produc- 
ion  on  any  stage," — entitled,  Inez  Mendo.  What  "Inez"  has 
o  "  Mend-o,"  or  whether  she  might  be  improved  and  be  "  Intz 
On-the- Mendo,"  this  deponent  cannot  say  this  week.  The  Eng- 
lish version  by  W.  BEATTY-fied  KINGSTON.  "  Now  we  sha'u't 
be  long,"  which  is  not  what  we  can  ever  say  about  the  entr'actes 
at  the  Opera.  Observations  on  Intz  reserved  till  we  've  heard  it. 


VOL.  cxni. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JOLT  17,  1897 


JULT  17,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


15 


UNWILFUL    DAMAGE. 


Irate  Householder  (to  Otnt,  whose  stetd  is  trying  to  scrape  him  off).  "  Hi  I    CONFOUND  YOU  !    OKT  AWAY  FROM  THAT  FINCE  ! 

CAN'T  YOU  SIB  IT  HAS  JUST  BEEN  FRESH  PAINTED,  YOU  FOOL  ?  " 


THE  LAY  OE  AN  OPTIMIST. 

11  Of  all  §ad  words  of  tongue  or  pen 
The  »adde«t  are  these — '  It  might  have  been.'  " 

J.  G.  WHITTHH. 
THK  lady-novelist  contrives 

A  woeful  tale  and  long, 
She  parts  the  lovers,  spoils  their  lives, 

Makes  everything  go  wrong ; 
She  loves  to  see  the  Fates  make  hay 

In  endless  fits  of  spleen, 
That  in  the  end  she  gaily  may 

Bemoan  the  "  might-have-been  "  I 

Love  once,  it  happens,  crossed  my  way, 

And  bound  me  with  his  spell ; 
I  often  still  recall  the  day 

When  I  proposed  to  NELL. 
She  now  possesses  children  nine, 

A  tongue  and  temper  keen — 
She's  JONES'S  wife,  you  know,  not  mine, 

To  think — she  might  have  been ! 

To  Tiny  Tim's  untimely  fate 

I  also  may  appeal — 
He  foolishly  evinced  of  late 

A  taste  for  human  veal. 
The  dog,  they  said,  was  clearly  mad 

To  bite  a  calf  BO  lean — 
It  was  not  mine,  I  wish  to  add, 

But  still — it  night  have  been  I 

A  host  of  "  moving  accidents 

By  flood  and  field  "  I  Ve  known— 
I  say  I  've  known,  since  my  intent 's 

To  tell  the  truth  alone. 
A  railway  smash  is  not  much  fun 

Yet  do  not  think  I  mean 
That  I  have  ever  been  in  one, 

But  that  I  might  have  been ! 


There  may  be  pathos,  one  admits, 

In  "  might-have-been  "  sometimes, 
Although  it 's  not  a  rule  which  fits 

The  cases  in  my  rhymes. 
And  'spite  the  lady-novelist, 

Some  comfort  I  can  glean — 
There 's  nothing  sad  in  Laving  missed 

Some  things  which  might  have  been ! 


HINTS  EOR  HENLEY. 

(At  the  Service  of  Visitors  wishing  to  be 
comfortable.) 

TAKK  care  to  be  invited  to  the  best 
situated  house-boat. 

If  you  can,  get  permission  to  ask  a  few 
friends  to  join  your  host's  party  at 
luncheon. 

Be  sure  to  secure  the  pleasantest  seat, 
the_  most  amusing  neighbour,  and  all  the 
periodicals. 

If  you  are  conversationally  inclined, 
monopolize  the  talk,  and  if  you  are  not, 
plead  a  headache  for  keeping  every  one 
silent. 

Mind  that  "  No.  1  "  is  your  particular 
numerical  distinction,  and  that  the  happi- 
ness of  the  rest  of  the  world  is  a  negligible 
quantity. 

If  you  are  a  man,  keep  smoking  cigars 
and  sipping  refreshing  beverages  until  it 
is  time  to  eat  and  drink  seriously ;  if  you 
are  of  the  other  sex,  flirt,  chatter,  or 
sleep,  as  the  impulse  moves  you. 

And  when  you  are  quite,  quite  sure  that 
you  have  nothing  better  to  do,  give  a 
glance  to  the  racing ! 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Married  Man  contrasts  Henley  at  peace  with 
Henley  in  time  of  war. 

AT  PEACE  (1895). 
THB  long  reach  stretches  by  the  meads, 

With  placid  run  of  ripple, 
The  osiers  bend  beside  the  reeds 

To  join  them  in  their  tipple. 
Just  here  and  there  a  lazy  boat 

Lies  languid  on  the  stream-way, 
And  you  and  I,  while  thus  afloat, 
Let  all  our  thoughts  go  dream-way. 

I  cannot  scull,  you  cannot  steer, 

And  so  we  're  slowly  drifting 
Beneath  this  sky  so  blue  and  clear 

'Mid  scenes  that  need  no  shifting. 
All  happiness  is  ours  to-day, 

No  storm  our  bark  can  shiver ; 
But,  as  in  Tennysonian  lay, 

We  two  go  on  for  ever  I 

AT  WAR  (1897). 
The  aspect 's  changed !  Not  for  the  best, 

To  him  who  sings  this  ballad. 
The  frou-frou  of  the  smartly  drest 

Combined  with  lobster  salad; 
The  signal-gun  by  corks  is  drowned, 

The  boom  of  "  fizz  "  and  soda  1 
What  time  the  minstrel  strains  resound 

That  surely  need  a  coda  ! 

All  this  I  bear  with  humble  mien, 

Amid  the  flare  and  flaunting, 
But  really  wish  I  ne'er  had  seen 

This  sight  of  jolly  jaunting. 
For  on  the  house-boat,  where  for  long 

Both  you  and  I  have  tarried, 
I  see  that  you  are  "  going  strong," 

And  I — well,  there !  I  'm  married  1 


16 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  17,  1897. 


it* 


: 





,  JUST  'OLD  MY  BROOM  A  MINUTE,  I  'M  JUST  GOIN'  UP  THE  STREET.    I»  ANY 

OF   MY  REGULAR  CUSTOMERS  COMES,    JUST  AKST   'EM   TO  WAIT  A   BIT  !  " 


SKETCHES  IN  LONDON. 

I. — IN  A  BOUDOIR. 

SCENE — BLANCHE'S  house  in  May/air. 

BLANCHE  and  ENID  sitting  on  sofa.     BLANCHE 

fair  and  irresponsible.    ENID  dark  and  sensible. 

Blanche.  ENID,  I  'm  rather  worried.  Can 
I  trust  you? 

Enid.  O,  BLANCHE! 

Blanche.  It '»  such  an  awful  thing,  dear ! 
Poor  SAVILE  I  Ever  since  I  married  that 
boy's  been,  getting  into  scrapes.  He  now 
wants  to  marry  CABRIE  FLOYD,  and  has 
written  to  ask  me  to  lend  him  fifteen 
shillings  I 

Enid.  Is  that  enough  to  marry  on  ? 

Blanche .  Oh,  of  course  not  I  But  she 
has  a  splendid  salary  at  the — where  she 
sings,  you  know.  A  music-hall.  Besides, 
she's  married  already,  and  has  six  chil- 


dren. And  think  of  the  disparity  of  age  I 
She's  forty,  and  SAVILB'S  only  sixteen. 
He  says  he  quite  realizes  all  this  ;  he 's  not 
blind  to  the  facts ;  but  it 's — well,  it 's  real, 
you  know,  this  time  ;  the  sort  of  thing  you 
read  of  ;  and  he  can't  live  without  her. 
Fancy  how  my  people  will — 

Enid.  Oh !  I  don't  think  you  need  be 
anxious.  1  am  sure  there  is  no  immediate 
danger  of  the  match. 

Blanclie.  Really?  Well,  perhaps  not  I 
How  sensible  and  soothing  you  always  are, 
dear  I 

Enid  (laughing,  and  taking  up  a  little 
velvet  case).  I  suppose  this  is  a  birthday 

E resent  from  EUGENE.     He 's  a  very  polite 
usband. 

Blanche.  Wasn't  it  nice  of  him?  And 
yet — — 

Enid.  You  don't  care  for  jewels,  do  you  ? 
Blanche.  They  last  so  long. 


-Kind.  Aud  the  flowers? 

lllniH-Uf.  Oh  1  i Jm  orchids  are  from  young 
REEVES.  Ho  thinks  1  'in  a  heartless,  so- 
phisticated unman  of  the  world,  and  says 
I  have  a  "  murbid  attraction"  for  him. 
I  ho  roses  are  from  old  Colonel  CAMERON. 
He  says  I'm  so  refreshingly  simple  and 
innocent—  quite  a  child.  ALAN  TRISTRAM 
sent  me  his  new  book ;  it 's  horribly  clever  I 

Enid.  Isn't  this  a  new  photograph  of 
ALAN?  It's  rather  flattered. 

Blanclie.  Well,  you  see,  he  took  it  him- 
self. He  photographs  very  well. 

Enid.  Do  you  still  like  him  ? 

Blanche.  Ohl  he  has  faults.  But  1  do 
him  a  great  deal  of  good.  1  appeal  to  his 
uigher  nature.  Dear  ENID,  i  envy  you 
sometimes  for  being  married  to  a  celebrity . 

Enid.  I  don't  think  you  'd  like  it, 
BLANCHE.  You'd  have  to  order  dinner. 
Besides,  they  never  get  up. 

Blanche.  What  does  that  matter  ?  They 
kuuw  such  amusing  people. 

Enid.  Why  don't  you  do  something 
yourself?  Write:  I'm  sure  you  could. 

liluiulu  .  i  do  sometimes  think  I  should 
like  to  write  a  book — just  a  little,  long, 
narrow  book,  that  would  go  easily  into  a 
waistcoat  pocket,  and  would  make  a  great 
seusatiou. 

Enid.  If  it 's  only  so  that  EUGENE  should 
know  amusing  people — 

Blanclie.  Onl  he  does,  of  course.  But  hu 
old  tneuds,  those  who  gave  us  wedding 
presents,  make  love  to  me  as  if  it  were  a 
painful  duty,  and  the  others,  the  new  ones, 
talk  racing,  and  whisper  hoarsely  in  my 
ear,  "Back  mtieerpmnt ;  back  it  when  ana 
where  you  can  I  "  and  I  say,  "  Oh  I  thank 
you  so  much ,  do  you  think  it  will  really 
win  ?  The  dear  thing  1  I  love  horses  I  " 
and  then  I  forget  all  about  it.  ALAN 
TRISTRAM  has  been  a  little  trying,  lately. 
I  had  to  hiut  that  EUGENE  was  jealous. 
He  isn't,  really.  ALAN  's  going  away.  For 
my  sake!  Fancy!  He  says  I  ennoble  him, 
and  am  made  for  better  things. 

Enid.  Better  than  what  ?  Than  CHARLIE 
REEVES  ? 

Blanche.  Ohl  he  is  a  dear  boy!  He  »ays 
my  cynical  views  terrify  him.  I  shall  miss 
him  very  much  —  soon.  I'm  not  really 
cynical,  you  know,  at  all. 

Enid.  I  suppose  you  represent  for  him 
dangerous  fascination. 

Blanche.  Well,  I  make  up  for  that  by 
being  ALAN'S  better  angel.  I  keep  him  up 
to  his  ideals ;  I  lead  him  in  the  right  path. 

Enid.  And  Colonel  CAMERON? 

Blanche-  Oh !  he  wants  me  to  know  more 
of  the  world — more  of  life.  Really,  dear, 
it  isn't  that  one  wants  to  pose.  But  if 
people  will  call  one  nam^s,  how  can  one 
help  living  up  to  them  ?  I  'm  always  sin- 
cere. But  you  can't  be  the  same  to  every 
one ;  they  won't  let  you.  How  anxious 
I  feel  about  SAVILE  I  It's  seems  such  a 
pity.  To  marry  at  sixteen  !  And  a  woman 
who • 

Enid.  Talk  of  something  else.  What  are 
your  arrangements  for  the  early  summer  ? 

Blanche.  One  is  coming  to  call  this  after- 
noon. 

Enid.  Do  I  know  him? 

Blanclie.  Well,  no.  I  met  him  at  the 
CLINTONS. 

Enid.  How  long  ago  ? 

Blanche.  Last  night !  Now,  don't  be 
silly,  ENID.  His  name  is  LANCB  CHAL- 
LONER.  He  seems  unusual,  and  clever. 
Don't  go  when  he  comes — for  ten  minutes. 

Enid.  Are  you  going  to  be  sophisticated, 
or  a  simple  little  thing?  I'm  getting 
anxious. 


JUI.T  17,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


17 


Ilium-la-.  Oh!  1  duu't  know  ;    I  tthall  n.-« 

m  tiling*  turn  out.  lie  ttvbuia  thought!  ill 
ami  broad-minded.  1  uu-un,  he  '»  nut  a 
were  1  1  illi-i  t.ik>^  uu  iotwMC  iu  thiuga. 

A'  ii  nl.  Do  you  mtuui  he  'it  a  socialist  '( 

ltl<iiii-lir.  Oh,  no!  He  tlimki  the  rich 
uuglit  to  have  a  t.-huuou,  too  ;  he  fcwa  i-n  i> 
point  of  view.  Ami  he  '.-.  so  food  of  music 
that  as  soon  as  he  found  out  I  had  a  piano. 
he  asked  to  come  and  see  it.  Could  1 
refuse  P  It  would  have  been  so  rude  to  the 
CLINTONS  1 

Kn  id.  I  quite  see.  The  only  person  who 
will  ever  be  dangerous  to  you,  my  dear, 
will  be  the  person  with  whom  you  can  be 
perfectly  natural.  If  you  seem  to  be,  with 
your  new  friend,  I  sha'u't  leave  in  ton 
minutes. 

Blanche.  Really,  dear,  I've  no  idea  what 
I  shall  be.  He  puts  one  quite  at  one's  ease  ; 
In1  understands  palmistry,  and  I  heard  he 
kept  an  emu  in  hia  garden.  But  he  '.-  not 
an  artist  :  he  "s  an  attache. 

Enid.  Then  I  wonder  Lord  SALISBURY 
allows  it  !  What  ii  an  emu  ? 

Blanche.  I  haven't  the  slightest  ideal 
Oh  I  I'm  so  miserable  about  poor  dear 
SAY  n  h  I 

Servant  (announcing).  Master  SA  vii.it! 
JOnter   BLANCHE'S   brother,  a  neat,  fair,  pink, 
Ktun  boy,   ii'Uh   rvitiui,  blue  eyes,  and  a  illy 

•manner, 


(ijjeakiiiy  in  a  ttlf-conteuius,  iii- 
artic-ulate  mumble,  rather  uruff,  and  blush- 
i  mi).  I  just  caimi  in,  you  know  —  You 
got  my  note  all  right  P 

Blanche  (anxiously).   Vesl    Well? 

Savile.  Well,  it  's  otf  .    See  P    It  's  all  off. 

fluid.  Shall  I  leave  you  P 

Savile.  Oh,  uol  (Tu  Blanche.)  I  sup- 
pose she  knows:" 

Blaiiclui.  Well,  I  did  just  hint  - 

,Sn  i-i/i-.  I  don't  mi  ml  ENID,  ahe  's  all 
right.  Yes,  it's  otf.  She  treated  me  in 
the  most  beastly-  •  Never  mention  her 
name  in  uiy  presence  again  I 

BlancliK.  Haoe  1  ever  mentioned  it, 
dear  ;-  But  1  am  glad.  It  '»  surely  better 
BO,  isn't  it  '<  Don't  you  feel  it  yourself  P 

Savile.  Obi  yes;  rather  I  I  didn't  care. 
Of  course,  I  'ui  rather  cut  up,  and  all  that. 
It  's  the  sort  of  thing  that  rather  ruin*  a 
chap's  life.  But  she  behaved  —  •  Never 
mind.  How  are  you,  old  girlP  You  look 
very  fit.  GKRALDINE  sent  me  her  photo 
from  school.  She  's  done  her  hair  up.  It 
looks  awfully  rum. 

Enid.  I  hope  you  're  not  engaged  to 
GEBALDINE  yet  P 

Savile.  Engaged!  No  thanks)  You  don't 
catch  me  marrying.  I  Ye  had  enough  of 
that  game.  No  more  marrying  for  me  I  I 
say,  many  happy  returns  —  and,  I  say,  does 
EUGENE  know  what  's  going  to  win  at 
Sandown  P 

Blanche.  I  shouldn't  think  he  know*  for 
certain.  Don't  these  things  depend  a  good 
deal  on  chance,  and  how  the  jockeys  ride, 
and  so  onP 

Enid.  What  about  Silverpointf 

Savile.  What!  The  favourite  I  No 
thanks  I  No  more  favourites  for  me  I  I 
say,  are  you  coming  to  the  Mater's  beano 
on  Tuesday  P 

Blanche.  Oh!  yes. 

Savile.  It  'U  be  appalling,  my  dear.  You 
take  my  tip  —  have  neuralgia.  You  '11  be 
taken  down  by  old  BRAITHWAITE  or  that 
singing  Johnnie.  I  forget  his  name.  Don't 
come  I  You  '11  be  bored  to  death. 

Blanche.  Oh  I  thank  you,  dear.  I  'm  so 
pleased  it  's  all  right  about  you. 

Sank.  Well,  don't  bother  any  more 
about  me.  I've  had  a  lesson!  Would 


THE    MODERN    DON    QUIXOTE. 

"OF  THE  GOOD  SUCCESS  WHICH  DON  QUIXOTE  HAD  IN  THE  TERRIBI.K  AND  NEVIK 
BEFORE  IMAGINED  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  WINDMILLS,  AND  OTHKR  EVENTS  WORTHY  OF  HAPPY 
REMEMBRANCE." 


you  believe  it,  she  actually —  •    Oh!  well, 

what  does  it  matter  P     1   say,  you   don't 

expect  any  clever  Johnnies  or  anything,  do 

youP 

It  In  IK-III-.  Well,  I  think  one  or  two  people 

may  perhaps — 

Servant.  Mr.  LANCB  CHALLONER  I 
Blanche  (greeting  him).  I  thought  you 

said  you  were  going  in  the  country  P 
Mr.  Chall.  I  was.     But  I  put  it  off  till 

— till  to-morrow. 
Blanche.  What   do  you  generally  do  in 

the  country  P 

Mr.     Chall.    I     look    for    three-leaved 

clovers,  Mrs.  SINGLETON. 
Enid.  And  do  you  find  themP 
Mr.  Chall.  Often  I    Far  too  often  I 
Savile  (staring).  Well,  I'm  off,  old  girl. 

Remember,     the     dinner-party     will     be 

ghastly.    And  it's  all  right  now,  you  see? 

I'm  writing  to  QEBALDINK  ;  any  message  P 
[ENID,  evidently  satisfied  that  BLANCHE  is 
not  in  any  danger  of  being  too  natural, 
takes  leave.  Mr.  CHALLONER,  smiling, 
lakes  a  seat  nearer  BLANCHE.  Scene 
closes  in. 


STATESMEN  WHOM  MR.  PUNCH  MOST  AP- 
PRECIATES.— The  Peace-Makers  of  the 
Empire. 


THE  SPHINX'S   LATEST  RIDDLE. 
(  When  i»  a  Place  not  a  Place  t ) 

THE  old  crux  of  the  logic-scorner 
Is,  "  How  shall  man  define  a  corner  P  " 
(A'ot  "  Tattenham  ") .    Gravely  or  in  fun 
The  thing  has  never  yet  been  done. 
But  now  another  er-iix  arises, 
Leading  to  many  strange  surprises ; 
Lawyers,  and  lovers  of  a  race, 
Are  puzzled  to  define  "  a  place." 
What  is  a  place  ?    There  is  the  rub ! 
The  judges  now  are  "  on  the  job," 
And,  though  so  far  they  have  not  got, 
Five  have  determined  what  is  not. 
So  men  may  bet  on  match  or  race 
In  any  place  that's  not  "a  place." 
At  least,  to  men  of  simple  pate, 
That  seems  Law's  verdict  up  to  date  ; 
Though  RIOBY  puts  another  face, 
And  says,  "  Every  place  is  a  place." 
And  common-sense,  putting  the  wig  by, 
May  seem  inclined  to  side  with  RIOBY. 
It  seems,  after  much  legal  jaw, 
Betting 's  in  need  of  a  new  law  ; 
While,  if  it  means  not  mere  position, 
"A  place"  requires  re-definition. 


A   HENLET   TOAST.-  "  May   rivals   meet 
without  any  sculls  being  broken  I  " 


18 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  17,  1897. 


"AND  WHAT   IS  TO   BB  THE  SUBJECT  OF,  YOUR   LlCTURE  TO-MORROW  NIGHT,  PROFESSOR?" 

"WELL,  MY  DEAR  YOUNO  LADY,  I  CAN  HARDLY  HOPE  IT  WILL  HAVE  MUCH  INTEREST 

FOR  YOU.      I   SHALL  LECTURE  ON    '  SUN-SPOTS."  " 

"On,    BUT   THAT'S  OF  TH«   GREATEST  INTEREST  TO   ME.      I   SHALL  CERTAINLY  COME. 

YOU  'VE   NO   IDEA   HOW   I   SUFFER  FROM   FRECKLES  !  " 


"A  TALE  OF  TWO  CITIES." 

( With  Apologies  to  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling, ) 

["  Sir  EDWARD  GOUBLBY,  in  view  of  the  grave 
state  of  affairs  in  India,  to  which  he  has  paid  a 
hasty  visit,  wanted  to  know  whether  the  SKUIB- 
TARY  OF  STATE  would  advise  the  immediate 
return  of  the  Government  from  Simla." — Timet.} 

THIS    one    remedy    for    all    wrongs,    Sir 

EPWABD  GOURI.EY, 
Is  strange,  surely ! 
To    keep    men    sweltering,    for    whatever 

reasons, 
At  all  seasons, 

In  Calcutta  with  an  atmosphere  as  pure 
As  a  sewer 


(So    Mr.    RUDYARD    KIPLING    somewhere 

tells), 

'Midst  bad  smells, 
"  By    the    Sunderbunds   unwholesome,   by 

the  swamp 
Moist-  and  damp," 
May  look  Spartan,  but  its  lack  of  common 

sense 

Seems  immense. 
"  An  annual  migration  to  the  hills  ? 

No  I    Take  pills! 
And  put  up  with   all  the   miseries,  risks 

and  pains 
Of  thp  plains !  " 

Saya  the  Radical — in  theory — heroic, 
Stout  and  stoic. 


"  What  odds,  so  you  economise  the  cost, 

Though  lives  be  lost  ?  " 
Well,  Sir  EDWARD,  should  you  wish  to  boil 
and  stew, 

Why,  so  do! 
If  you  fancy  that  a  chronic  stew  and  boil 

Will  not  spoil 
Your  capacity  for  work  and  for  wise  rule ! 

But  to  cool 

Torrid  blood,  and  steady  brain,  and  pulse, 
and  nerve, 

It  may  serve 
Less  Titanic  individuals  to  retire 

Prom  the  fire, 
And  the  fetid  fume  that  hot  Calcutta  fills, 

To  those  hills. 
For,  as  RUDYARD  KIPLING  says,  it  may  be, 

Do  you  see, 

That  "  for  rule,   administration,   and  the 
rest, 

Simla's  best," 
Ai  even  you  might  feel  if  you  fell  poorly, 

Stoic  GOURLEY! 


THE  CURSE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

(A  Fragment  from  the  account  of  an  unsenti- 
iiwiUal  Journey. ) 

THE  traveller  thought  he  had  escaped. 
But  be  was  mistaken. 

"Surely  you  will  not  refuse  me,"  said 
a  virgin  of  titty  with  a  winsome  smile. 
"If  you  give  me  a  penny,  you  will  secure 
some  tiny  sufferer  the  third  of  a  wine  glass 
of  Epsom  Salts.  1  have  totted  up  the 
sum,  and  that 's  how  it  comes  out." 

And  the  skinny  female  grinned  again, 
and  rattled  a  money  box.  The  traveller 
parted  with  another  penny  to  be  rid  of  her. 

"  Now  you  are  going  to  be  kind," 
smirked  a  little  girl  of  thirteen.  "  ¥ou 
will  give  to  me  because  I  am  collecting  tor 
the  Caretakers'  Orphans.  One  penny 
sends  a  child  a  mile  and  a  half  towards 
Brighton,  Worthing  or  Herne  Bay.  Come, 
you  can't  refuse  that  I  " 

The  traveller  again  responded.  He  was 
deathly  weary  ot  the  appeals,  but  what 
could  he  do  ? 

"  Now,  you  sha'n't  pass  until  you  have 
given  me  a  copper,"  cried  a  portly  person 
of  unprepossessing  appearance,  rattling  a 
money  box.  "  1  represent  the  Mountain 
Top  Tea  Gathering.  Give  me  a  penny,  and 
it  will  help  to  take  a  hamper  to  the  peak 
of  the  Alps." 

"  But  1  have  given  away  all  my  coppers. 
I  have  none  left." 

"  What  does  that  matter  ?  If  you  haven't 
any  bronze,  I  will  take  silver.  There,  give 
me  a  florin,  and  I  will  let  you  pass." 

"This  is  absolutely  highway  robbery," 
cried  the  traveller,  angrily.  "  It 's  as  bad 
as  DICK  TUKPIN." 

"Bad  as  DICK  TURPIN!"  echoed  the 
shade  of  that  Knight  of  the  Road,  putting 
in  a  sudden  appearance.  "Why,  it's 
worse.  I  always  took  away  a  purse  with- 
out descending  to  cant ;  and  although  I 
was  not  particularly  inviting  in  a  mask 
and  carrying  pistols,  still  I  looked,  I  flat- 
ter myself,  a  deuced  sight  better  than  a 
pack  of  ugly  females  I  " 

And  the  traveller  agreed  with  him. 


A  DICKENS  OF  A  FETE.  —  Broadstairs, 
like  Todgers's,  "can  do  it  when  it  likes." 
"Dickens  Fete"  reported  as  "great  suc- 
cess." The  shows  had  a  real  Jarley  time 
of  it.  There  was  a  merry  Jingle  of  bells, 
and  as  a  memorial  of  event,  the  Fat  Buoy 
is  to  be  left  afloat  within  measurable  dis- 
tance of  the  'Arbour. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— JULY  17,  1897. 


UNREST. 


1867 — 1897. 

SHADE  OP  LORD  LAWRENCE.   "I  DON'T  LIKE  THE  LOOK  OP  HIM.     HOPE  THEY  UNDERSTAND 
HIM  BETTER  NOW  THAN  THEY  DID  IN  MY  TIME." 


JULY  17,  1897.) 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


21 


(J.  But  baa  not  the  seaside  visit  a  compensating  advantage  t 
.1.  The  seaside  visit  has  a  compensating  advantage  of   c/\.-r- 

whelining  proportions,  which  completely  swallows  up  and  efface* 

all  suggestions  of  discomfort — it  is  the  fashion. 


TOO    SOLID. 

Skipper.  "  DID  YE  GOT  THE  PROVSKSIONS,  ANGUS?" 
Anyus.  "AY,  AY  I  A  HALF  LOAF,  AN'  FOUKR  BOTTLES  o'  WHISKEY." 
''*  wn*'r  |M  TUV  wnipin  win.  vie   RB  TMIIN'  wi*  AAL 


AN 

THAT  BREAD?" 


WHAT   IN   THE  WOARLD  WILL  YE    BE   DOIJi     WI     AAL 


THE  SEA-SIDE  VISITOR'S  VADE  MECUM. 

Question.  It  is  your  intention  to  leave  London  at  once  to  bene- 
fit by  the  ocean  breezes  on  the  English  coast  ? 

Answer.  Certainly,  with  the  bulk  of  my  neighbours. 

Q.  Then  the  metropolis  will  become  empty  ? 

A.  Practically,  for  only  about  three  and  a  half  millions  out  ol 
the  four  millions  will  bo  lull  behind. 

Q.  What  do  you  consider  the  remaining  residuum  P 

A.  From  a  West  End  point  of  view  a  negligible  quantity. 

(j.  Do  not  some  of  the  Eastendera  visit  the  seaside  ? 

A.  Yes,  at  an  earlier  period  in  the  year,  when  they  pay  rather 
more  for  their  accommodation  than  their  neighbours  of  the  West 

Q.  How  can  this  be,  if  it  be  assumed  that  the  East  is  poorer 
than  the  West  P 

A .  The  length  of  the  visit  is  governed  by  the  weight  of  the 
purse.  Belgravia  stays  a  couple  of  months  at  Eastbourne,  while 
three  days  at  Margate  is  enough  for  Shoreditch. 

Q.  Has  a  sojourn  by  the  sea  waves  any  disadvantages  P 

A.  Several.     In  the  first  instance,  lodgings  are  frequently  ex 
pensive  and  uncomfortable.     Then  there  is  always  a  chance  that 
the  last  lodgers  may  have  occupied  their  rooms  as  convalescents 
Lastly,  it  is  not  invariably  the  case  that  the  climate  agrees  with 
himself  and  his  family. 

Q.  And  what  becomes  of  the  house  in  town? 

A.  If  abandoned  to  a  caretaker,  the  reception  rooms  may  be 
used  by  her  own  family  as  best  chambers,  and  if  let  to  strangers 
the  furniture  may  be  injured  irretrievably. 

Q.  But  surely  in  the  last  case  there  would  be  the  certainty  o 
pecuniary  indemnity? 

A.  Cherished  relics  cannot  be  restored  by  their  commonplace 
value  in  money. 

Q.  Then,  taking  one  thing  with  another,  the  benefit  of  a  visit 
to  the  seaside  is  questionable  ? 

A.  Assuredly  ;  and  an  expression  of  heartfelt  delight  at  tne 
termination  of  the  outing,  and  the  consequent  return  home  is 
the  customary  finish  to  the,  styled  by  courtesy,  holiday. 


KHYMES   WITH   HEASON. 
(Made  at  the  Merchant  Taylors'  Hall  on  Monday,  July  6,  1807.) 

SIB  WILFRID  LAUKIEB  ia  a  wise  old  warrior  ; 

Mr.  R.  J.  SEDDON  has  a  right  sound  head  on  ; 

Sir  WILLIAM  WHITEWAY  ia  inclined  the  right  way  ; 

Sir  EDWABD  BBADDON  ia  not  half  a  bad  'un  ; 

Mr   G.  H.  HE  in  ia  bound  to  succeed; 

Colonel  GEOBOB  T.  DBNISON  hath  Punch's  benison ; 

And  the  Duke  of  DEVONSHIRE  and  young  Lord  TENNYSON  ; 

With  good  Sir  JOHN  LUBBOOK,  who  swelled  the  ranks, 

With  patriot  speeches  and  proud  votes  of  thanks, 

From  patriot  Punch  meet  a  cordial  greeting. 

And  he  may  say  (quoting),  "  Doth  not  such  a  meeting 

As  this  make  amends,"  amongst  brothers  and  friends, 

For  the  "  Little  Englandiam"  which  this  Jubilee  endiP 


THE  TURK  THROUGH  THE  TELEPHONE. 

(Intercepted  Messages.) 

From  Paris. — What  is  to  be  done  P  Can't  get  him  to  move. 
Puts  ua  off.  Of  course,  won't  do  to  ask  England  to  interfere. 
Have  you  any  suggestion  ? 

F-rom  St.  Petersburg. — Quite  agree.  Have  sent  a  few  messages 
myself.  Doesn't  have  much  effect.  Perhaps  might  consider  the 
situation  when  I  meet  your  M.  FAUKB. 

From  Vienna. — Glad  to  assist  if  passible.  But  cannot  well  do 
anything  while  action  of  Russia  is  undecided.  You  are  generally 
pretty  ready  of  resource.  Have  you  any  suggestion  P 

From  Berlin. —  Hands  fairly  full  at  present.  Am  writing  a 
new  opera,  painting  a  new  picture,  producing  a  new  ballet,  in 
addition  to  my  regular  routine  work  or  managing  everything  and 
everybody.  Besides,  I  sent  the  SULTAN  my  portrait,  and  regard 
him  as  a  personal  fnend. 

From  Rome. — Have  urged  him  to  fall  in  with  your  wishes. 
Now  that  the  Jubilee  is  practically  over,  no  doubt  you  will  have 
time  to  think  of  the  complication.  Sorry  I  cannot  be  of  greater 
assistance. 

From  Constantinople. — I  have  the  best  intentions,  and  will 
carry  them  out — some  day.  Be  assured  of  my  good  will.  In  the 
meanwhile,  receive  my  congratulations  upon  your  magnificent 
fleet.  I  console  myself  for  not  having  seen  it  with  the  thought 
that  it  most  have  been  far  more  splendid  at  Spithead  than  it 
would  have  been  off  the  Dardanelles. 

From  London. — Your  procrastination  ia  accompanied  with 
danger.  You  should  act  with  the  promptness  that  you  displayed 
when  the  treaty  of  San  Stefano  waa  revised.  It  ia  to  be  regretted 
that  Prince  BISMARCK  is  not  in  the  chair  I 

From  Frohtdorf.—  Hal  ha  I  ha  I  What  do  I  hear?  "To  be 
regretted  that  Prince  BISMARCK  ia  not  in  the  chair  I  "  Quite  so  I 
I  knew  they  wouldn't  be  able  to  get  on  without  me  I 


Weather-Wisdom  for  Wiseacre*. 

THEY  who  hold  that  the  Government  might  have  done  more 
In  the  East,  should  remember  a  canon  of  cricket : 

(.RACK  could  tell  you  how  largely  the  state  of  the  score 
Must  depend  on — the  state  of  the  wicket  I 


STARS  AND  GARTERS  !  I— Mr.  ISMAY,  of  the  White  Star  Line, 
declined  the  proffered  Baronetcy.  Lord  SALISBURY  should  have 
offered  him  a  Garter,  and  then  Mr.  ISMAY  would  have  been  chief  of 
what  would  for  evermore  have  been  known  as  "The  Jubilee-White- 
Star-and-Oarter-L  ine." •_ 

A  TIP  TO  SIB  HBNRY.— Sir  HENRY  IBVINO  ought  to  advertise 
his  Corporal  Brewiter  in  CONAN  DOYLE'S  one-act  play  as  a  "  special 
attraction  to  bicyclists."  Isn't  he  always  talking  about  there 
being  "something  wrong  with  his  'tubes'"? 


OCCUPATION  FOB  A  SUSPICIOUSLY  INQUISITIVE  PERSON   AT  AN 
EVENING  GARDBN-PARTY. — Counting  the  spoons. 


22 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  17,  1897. 


THE    TRUTH,    YET    UNPALATABLE. 

Servant  (to  convalescent  Curate,  prop  of  the  Sunday  School).   "PLEASE,  SIR,  THE  SUPERINTENDENT  WANTS  TO  KNOW  HOW  YOU  ARE,  AN' 

YOU  "RE  NOT  TO   BOTHER,    'COS  THEY  CAN   DO   PERFECTLY  WELL  WITHOUT  YOU." 


THE  'VARSITY  MATCH. 

By  a  Shilling  Sightseer  (?). 

Oh  !  M,  C.  C.. 

Oh !  Powers  that  Be, 
Likewise  ye  Members  of  the  Fourth  Estate, 

And  youthful  Blues, 

Of  rival  hues. 

Pray  hear  my  grumble,   though   it  comes 
too  late ! 

Year  after  year 
I  reappear 
At   Lord's,  and   pay  my   bob   to  see  the 

Match  ; 

And  each  year,  too, 
There 's  nought  to  do 
But  take  my  hook  with  more  or  less  des- 
patch. 

The  carriage  folk 

Sit  there  and  smoke, 
And  feed  and  flirt,  oblivious  of  the  game, 

Nor  care  two  pins 

Which  party  wins — 
They  have  their  annual  picnic  all  the  sajne. 

But  fifteen  deep 

I  stand  and  peep, 
And  rarely  catch  a  casual  glimpse  of  green ; 

And  through  the  day 

Of  all  the  play 

Two  hits,  one  wide,  three  byes,  alone  I  "re 
seen! 

If  I  could  buy 
A  Rontgen  eye, 

I  might  look  through  these  solid  four-in- 
hands 


Drawn  up  all  round 
The  blessed  ground, 

Where  they  can  squeeze  between  the  rows 
of  stands! 

But  now  'tis  vain 

To  peer  and  crane 
My  miserable  neck  to  snatch  a  view ; 

I  merely  see 

Half  DRUCE'B  knee 
And  JESSOP'S  elbow — so,  to  Lord's,  adieu ! 


NOTES  BY  A  COUNTRY  NATURALIST. 

THE  PLEASURES  OF  JULY  (continued). 

THE  cockchafer  is  now  upon  the  whirl. 
He  smites  you  in  the  eye  when  least  ex- 
pected. 

The  ardent  slug,  having  exhausted  the 
strawberries,  fastens  upon  the  gooseberries 
and  currants.  He  is  far  from  disliking,  if 
able  to  crawl,  the  raspberry  of  commerce. 

The  privet  moth  is  also  in  grand  form, 
playing  havoc  with  candles,  and  perform- 
ing the  hari-kari  nightly  with  the  aid  ot 
lamps. 

An  unspeakable  kind  of  grub  harries  the 
few  remaining  turnips  and  carrots.  He  is 
callous  to  assaults  from  a  syringe. 

Young  starlings  are  now  fully  developed, 
and  eat  everything  except  insects. 

The  gamekeeper  "minding"  the  youth- 
ful partridge  and  the  immature  pheasant 
objects  to  rank  weeds  being  destroyed  on 
the  ground — that  they  are  coverts. 

Cats  take  to  the  woods  and  spinnies, 
r.nd  live  on  rabbits.  Hares  begin  to  be 
mistaken  by  farmers  for  rabbits. 


Wasps  assemble  in  legions,  bees  in  co- 
horts, and  hornets  on  "special  service," 
with  stag-beetles  in  great  evidence.  On 
the  other  hand,  worms,  well  aware  of  the 
fishing  demand,  have  gone  to  their  various 
sanctuaries,  and  are  difficult  to  shake  by 
the  tail.  The  nightingale  is  in  full  voice, 
and  readily  to  be  distinguished,  except 
when  a  boy  is  whistling  late  at  night.  • 


THE  BEAUTY  OF  BISLEY. 

THAT  it  takes  you  away  from  town  in  the 
dog  days  for  a  clear  fortnight. 

That,  being  farther  away  from  London 
than  Wimbledon,  you  escape  the  more 
easily  the  attention  of  those  who  love  tea, 
flirtation,  and  strawberries  and  cream. 

That  there  is  plenty  to  do  at  the  ranges 
with  the  rifle,  and  to  see  in  the  neighbour- 
hood on  a  bicycle. 

That  the  conversation  of  your  comrades 
is  congenial,  if  slightly  "shoppy." 

That,  after  all,  it  is  better  to  talk  all  day 
of  scores  than  of  links  or  tyres. 

That  if  the  Jife  becomes  too  monotonous, 
a  train  can  carry  you  back  to  Waterloo  in 
forty  minutes. 

That  life  under  canvas  is  recommended 
by  the  doctors  when  it  is  subject  to  certain 
favourable  climatic  conditions. 

That,  with  the  power  of  enjoying  your 
outing  to  the  end,  or  cutting  it  short  at 
tho  beginning,  you  can  yet  claim  credit  for 
your  self-denial  and  patriotism. 


MOTTO    OF   THE    CAT-DESTROYER. — Finis 
coronat,  0  puss! 


JULY  17,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


23 


IESSENCE    OF   PARLIAMENT. 

EXIKACTKD     FKOM     TUB     DlAKY     Of    TOBY,    M.P. 

Hoiue  of  Commons,  Monday,  Midnight, 
.Inly  5.— Hardly  know  CORPOBAL  HANBUBY 
H.S  he  sits  on  Treasury  Bench  just  now. 
Seems  to  be  literally  shrivelled  up,  whilst 
grey  clouds  of  anguish  brood  over  his  manly 
brow.  Nothing  visible  in  ordinary  course 
accounts  for  depression.  Since  he  won  his 
stripes  he  has  done  very  well.  We  who 
remember  him  as  PRIVATE  HANBURY,  some- 
times marvel  how  through  the  revolving 
hours  he  can  sit  silent  on  Treasury  Bench 
whilst  his  old  pal.  CAP'EN  TOMMY,  talks  at 
large.  Is  it  worth  £2,000  a  year,  and  the 
stripes,  to  be  thus  dumbfoundered  ?  In  the 
bitter  moments  of  early  parting  the  CAP'BN 
shewed  tendency  to  claw  his  old  com- 
panion. 

Just  for  a  handful  of  silver  he  left  us, 

Just  for  some  poor  (tripes  to  wear  on  hie  sleeve. 

So  trolled  the  Old  Salt,  till  he  was  reminded 
that  he  was  parodying  lines  from  The,  Loit 
Leader. 

"  No  leader  of  mine,"  he  gruffly  said.  "I 
was  post-captain  when  he  signed  articles." 

That  natural  feeling  of  resentment  has 
died  away.  Occasionally  the  CAP'EN  fetches 
the  CORPORAL  a  sly  hit  with  the  tip  of  his 
hook;  but  it's  all  kindly  fun.  In  the 
main,  backs  him  <ip  ;  keelhauls  any  who 
essay  to  belittle  him.  Evidently  it  can't 
be  faithful  TOMMY  BOWLES  that  is  at  bottom 
of  the  Financial  Secretary's  megrims. 


A  PATHETIC  FIGURE! 
Mr.  H-nb-ry. 

"No,  TOBY,"  said  the  CORPORAL,  fairly 
breaking  down,  when  a  kind  voice  sounded 
in  his  ear,  "  it  's  that  Historical  Commis- 
sion Report  business  that  has  upset  me  a 
bit.  Mum 's  the  word  between  old  con- 
fidants. I  don't  mind  telling  you,  as  I 
know  it  won't  go  any  further,  that  we  're 
getting  into  a  fix  at  the  Treasury.  What 


CoNTRACTINO-OtlT. 

"  When  the  Colonial  Secretary  had  completed  that  assimilation  of  the  Tory  Party  which  was  now 
going  on." — Mr.  Maclean. 

"  Not  being  desirous  to  be  converted,  not  having  yet  arrived  at  that  happy  stage." 

Mr.  Jimmy  Lowther. 


with  relief  of  the  landlords,  and  comfort 
for  the  clergy,  we  've  been  making  a  little 
free  with  our  takings.  Then  comes  this 
Jubilee,  with  perpetual  strains  on  the 
public  purse.  Some  of  the  items  don't 
seem  appalling.  There  's  the  luncheon  to 
Members  on  the  Campania.  One-and- 
fourpence  a  head  is,  you  will  say,  a  trifle. 
So  it  is,  if,  following  ordinary  usage,  you 
had  only  one  head.  But  when  it  comes 
to  eight  hundred,  you  see,  it  mounts  up. 
A  sop  for  such  a  Cerberus,  even  at  a  low 
contract,  is  a  pretty  expensive  meal  to 
provide.  Thought  I  saw  a  way  of  re- 
lieving exchequer,  partially  balancing 
extraordinary  expenditure,  by  savings  on 
Reports  of  Historical  Manuscripts  Com- 
mission. Hitherto  distributed  to  Mem- 
bers free.  Why  shouldn't  they  pay  for 
them?  Settled  they  should.  Save  at 
least  £50  a  year  to  put  against  subsidies  to 
landlords  and  church  schools.  But  those 
fellows  below  gangway  opposite  kick  up 
such  shindy  am  obliged  to  abandon  benefi- 
cent scheme." 

A  tear  fell  on  the  CORPORAL'S  Orders  ot 
the  Day.  I  silently  withdrew.  Nothing 
so  painful  as  to  see  a  six-foot-two  man  in 
tears. 

Business  done. — Report  stage  of  Work- 
men's Compensation  Bill. 

Tuesday.—  Since  Mrs.  MacStinger  broke 
in  upon  the  retreat  of  the  runaway  Captain 
Cuttle,  and  ordered  him  to  return  home 
with  her,  there  has  been  nothing  equal  to 
the  Descent  of  Woman  on  the  hapless 
House  this  afternoon.  As  in  the  case  of 
Mrs.  MaeStinger  and  the  unsuspecting 
Captain,  the  irruption  was  as  unexpected 
as  it  was  volcanic.  Prayers  just  over ;  a 
holy  calm  breathed  through  the  Chamber ; 
the  few  Members  present  settled  them- 
selves to  chat  till  finger  of  clock  pointed  to 
hour  for  commencement  of  public  business ; 
COURTNEY  observed  on  his  legs.  Later  in 
the  sitting  that  would  portend  a  lecture 
and  reproof  for  one  or  other,  perhaps  both, 
political  parties.  Now  private  business 
being  to  the  fore  no  opening  for  lecture. 

It   was  a  petition    he    was  presenting. 


Curiosity  stirred  when  he  asked  that  r 
might  be  read  at  table.  PALORAVB,  K.C.B., 
took  document  in  hand,  and.  all  unconscious 
of  Mrs.  MaeStinger's  handwriting,  boldly 
plunged  at  its  contents.  The  wooden  horse 
the  Trojans  unwarily  dragged  into  their 
city  from  the  Greek  camp  hid  no  morn 
startling  surprise.  Woman  had  at  length 
been  permitted  to  uplift  her  voice  in  HOUSP 
of  Commons  ;  and  she  made  the  most  ol 
rare  opportunity.  "Existing  practice  of 
House  of  Commons  viewed  with  indigna- 
tion and  alarm."  "  Legislation  reduced  to 
mere  game  of  ohanre.  "Just  claims  of 
woman  repeatedly  and  insultingly  post- 
poned ; "  only  chance  for  House  to  escape 
wrath  to  come  was  to  "  so  rpform  your  pro- 
cedure as  to  secure  in  future  fair  considera- 
tion of  public  questions  with  some  regard 
to  their  relative  importance."  To  begin 
with,  not  only  pass  Woman's  Rights  Bill 
through  Committee  to-morrow,  but  also  run 
it  through  third  reading. 

JEREMIAH  LOWTITEB  first  to  regain  hi* 
breath.  Was  a  harmless  husband  to  be 
thus  addressed  in  the  public  streets? — he 
meant,  putting  his  inquiry  in  Parliamen- 
tary form,  should  a  petition  couched  in 
this  language  be  received  by  the  House  P 
After  some  belated  talk  mere  man  grate- 
fully agreed  to  "drop  the  subject."  Mean- 
while, divine  woman  bad  had  her  say. 
House  more  than  ever  yearns  for  female 
companionship  in  its  legislative  labours. 

Business  done. — Lovely  woman  stoops  to 
scolding. 

Thursday.— Few  sights  more  touching 
than  to  benold  DON  JOSE  seated  on  Trea- 
sury Bench  whilst  MACLEAN  of  Cardiff 
girds  at  him  from  below  gangway.  Never 
heard  explained  grounds  of  MACLEAN'S 
quarrel  with  the  main  staff  of  his  party. 
That  he  does  not  like  DON  JOSB  he 
knows  full  well.  So  does  the  House,  and 
eke  the  unoffending  object  of  his  dislike. 
Of  course,  if  Member  for  Cardiff  sat  on 
Opposition  Benches,  there  would  bo 
nothing  notable  in  his  kickin'  out  afnro 
and  ahint  at  COLONIAL  SECRETARY.  The 
fact  that  his  biting  remarks  are  blandly 


24 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  17,  1897. 


Objectionable  Faupert  Cleansing  Sill  emerges  after  occupying  an  entire  Sitting. 

"  Sorry  to  shut  yer  hout,  Lydies,  but  the  'Ouse  o'  Commons  was  so  delighted  with  me  that  I  couldn't 

get  out  no  sooner  I  " 

There  matter  left ;  evidently  cannot  so 
remain.  Immediate  effect  was  so  to 
paralyse  House  that  it  was  not  to  be 


delivered  from  Ministerial  ride  lends  them 
irresistible  charm.  Moreover,  he  is  a 
shrewd  debater,  an  excellent  speaker,  and 
has,  withal,  a  certain  benevolent  presence 
that  lends  the  charm  of  the  unexpected  to 
flashes  of  acrimony.  No  lean  and  hungry 
Ccuntu  he  ;  rather  of  the  order  of  sleek- 
headed  men  such  as  sleep  o'  nights. 

DON  JOSE  contributes  to  the  little  scene 
the  finishing  touch  of  imperturbability. 
Mr.  G.  in  similar  circumstances  would 
have  tossed  impetuous  on  the  bench  •  when 
his  assailant  resumed  his  seat,  would  have 
risen  and  crushed  him.  Such  was  his  man- 
ner with  even  so  inconsiderable  a  person  as 
Mr.  WAHTON,  whose  parti-coloured  pocket- 
handkerchief  —  the  size  of  a  Union  Jack  — 
waved  in  the  great  statesman's  face  had 
effect  similar  to  a  red  flag  thrust  under 
nose  of  a  bull.  DON  JOSE  imitates  rather 
the  manner  of  the  -departed  DIZZT.  In 
fact  SARK,  looking  on  just  now  whilst  the 
burly  figure  standing  below  the  gangway 
"  said  things  "  about  the  slight  figure 
seated  with  folded  arms  on  the  Treasury 
Bench,  was  reminded  of  far-off  days  when 
Big  Ben  used  to  say  what  good  Tories 
thought  of  their  esteemed  leader,  and 
DIZZT  sat  with  impassive  face,  unheeding, 
apparently  unlistening. 

Business  done.  —  Another  night  with 
Workmen's  Compensation  Bill. 

Friday.  —  ASCROFT'S  eagle  eye  has  dis- 
covered breach  of  standing  orders  which 
threatens,  even  in  this  moment  of  exalta- 
tion, to  shake  British  Empire  to  founda- 
tion. The  Chaff-cutting  Machines  (Acci- 
dents) Bill  has  been  read  a  third  time 
without  being  reprinted  !  What  did  House 
think  of  that  ?  ASCHOFT  asked,  in  hoarse 


whisper. 
PRINCE 


ARTHUR    was    very   sorry,   but 


pleaded  that  Accidents  will  happen  with 
the  best  Chaff-cutting  Machines  Bill.  The 
Right  Hon.  JEREMIAH,  beginning  to  re- 
cover from  Mrs.  MaeStinger's  incursion, 
called  aloud  upon  the  SPEAKER  to  suggest 
an  alteration  in  rules  preventing  recur- 
rence pf  calamity.  SPEAKER  "respectfully 
declined."  J.  L.  next  cited  PRINCE 
ARTHUR.  He  also  funked  the  job. 


revived  even  by  discussion  on  Irish  Votes. 
Business     done.  —  Irish     Estimates     in 
Committee. 


A  TEAOEDY  AT  THE  ZOO. 

(After  "  Two  Red  Eases  across  the  Moon.") 

THERE  was  a  lady  walked  in  a  hall, 
Where  the  Simian  race  is  held  in  thrall ; 
And  she  sung  as  the  morn  grew  on  to  noon, 
Two  Blue-noses*  and  one  Baboon. 

There  was  an  ape  in  a  cage  hard  by 
The  plumes  in  her  hat  eyed  wistfully ; 
And  he  heard  that  lady  sing  at  the  noon, 
Two  Blue-noses  and  one  Baboon. 

Yet  none  the  more  she  marked  at  all 
The  ape,  as  she  paced  around  the  hall : 
But  ever  she  sung,  as  it  neared  the  noon, 
Two  Blue-noses  and  one  Baboon. 

Because,  forsooth,  her  mind  was  set 
On  her  young  man,  who  had  got  to  be  met 
In  the  monkey-house  that  fatal  noon— 
Two  Blue-noses  and  one  Baboon. 

The  young  man  came,  there  was  no  one  by, 
But  the  ape  looked  on  with  attentive  eye, 
And  he  said'  to  himself,  as  they  kissed  at 

the  noon, 
Two  Blue-noses  and  one  Baboon. 

They  stood  together  the  cage  a-near, 
There  was  no  one  by,  they  had  nought  to 

fear, 

Save  a  hairy  arm  'twixt  the  bars  at  noon — 
Two  Blue-noses  and  one  Baboon. 

Verily  then  was  her  hat  pulled  through, 
And,  alas,  her  golden  hair  went  too ! 
And  the  ape  he  chuckled  and  chattered  at 

noon, 
Two  Blue-noses  and  one  Baboon. 

I  trow  the  young  man  left  the  hall, 
Nor  word  to  the  lady  spoke  at  all ; 
And  her  lips  were  fain  to  curse  at  the  noon, 
Two  Blue-noses  and  one  Baboon. 

*  Semnopithecus  leucoprymnus,  the  purple -faced 
monkey  of  Ceylon. 


CABBY'S  COMPLAINT. 

["  It  seems  that  though  the  omnibus  companies 
disgusted  most  of  their  regular  customers  by  raising 
their  fares  in  the  Jubilee  se'nnight,  they  made  a 
good  thing  of  it." — Daily  Chronicle.] 

Tax  song  says,  "Cabby  knows  bis  Fare," 

meaning  the  party  as  he 's  driving  ; 
Some  do  in  another  sense.    There  may  be 

besting  and  conniving, 
But  Cabby's  "fare"  is  fixed,  yer  see,  and 

most  of  Cabby's  fares  well  know  it. 
But  'ow  about  the  'bus  fares,  hay  ?    Fare  's 

fair,  or  oughter  be,  but  blow  it  I 
The  L.  G.  O.  had  a  fair  go  this  Jubilee  time 

at  people's  pockets  I 
Thry  can  afford  to  sympathise  with  all  the 

rush,  and  row,  and  rockets  ; 
JPe've  got  a  "maxermum  rate,"  ohl  yus  ; 

our  'ands  is  tied  in  hevery  manner, 
And  it  is  only  charnce  or'luck  if  we  can  cop 

a  hextry  tanner. 
But  they  can  pile  it  on  at  will.    "  Sixpence 

all  distances,"  they  sticks  up, 
And  there  you  are,  as  right  as  rain !    But 

when  his  fare  pore  Cabby  picks  up, 
If  he  should  say  "  a  bob  a  mile,"  wouldn't 

there  be  a  blessed  bobbery  ? 
The  fare  would  'owl,  the  bobby  run  yer  in, 

the  Beak  would  say,  "  sheer  robbery !  " 
And  Cabby,  'e  would  cop  the  knock.  Now, 

wot  I  want  to  know  is  this'n, 
Wy  should  a  Cabby  get  it  'ot  all  round, 

with  a  fair  chance  o'  prison, 
For  doin'  wot  the  'Bus  Co.'s  do  permiskus 

like,  and  with  impunity  ? 
Perhaps  them  parties  on  the  gush  erbout 

our  patriot  love,  and  unity, 
And  'appy  altogetherishness,  and  all  this 

jolly  Juberlee  patter, 
Will  say  if  fares  is  fair  all  round ;  and  if 

they  ain't  so,  wot 's  the  matter? 
Wy  should  them  wallopping  cars  be  free  to 

charge  jest  wot  they  like,  and  'buses 
Make  their  own  fares  capricious  like,  in 

spite  of  passengers'  'owls  an'  cusses, 
While  cabs  is  tied  hup  every  way,  mustn't 

"  drive  furious,"  "  crawl,"  or  vary  ? 
Fare  's  fair,  indeed  ?    I  beg  to  say  I  thinks 

— for  hus — it 's  quite  eontrairy  ! 


Too  much  Realism. 

Crumpet  (to  MUFFIN,  upon  whom  he  has 
called  at  his  chambers).  Good  heavens!  my 
dear  fellow,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ? 
Your  arm  in  a  sling,  your  nose  in  a  state 
of  pulp,  and  both  your  eyes  under  shades) 
Have  you  been  at  the  seat  of  war  ? 

Muffin  (feeblyl.  No,  old  chappie;  but  1 
thought  it  would  be  a  good  joke  to  go  to 
the  Devonshire  Ball  made  up  as  RRUGER. 
and  the  mob  in  Piccadilly  imagined  that  I 
was  the  real  article ! 


At  the   Eton  and   Harrow  Match. 

Simperton.  What,  you  in  light  blue, 
Miss  GLORIOSA  !  I  thought  you  were 
Harrovian  to  the  core ! 

Miss  Gloriosa.  So  I  am,  but  I  'm  also 
Cambridge,  and  as  I  can't  possibly  afford 
two  new  dresses  in  one  week,  I  decided  to 
choose  the  most  becoming  colour ! 

[And  SIMPERTON  of  the  dark  blue  was 
quite  satisfied  with  the  explanation. 


At  the  Grand  Prix  de  Paris. 

"  WHAT,"  cried  an  English  spectator, 
"Doge,  ridden  by  DODGE,  the  winner! 
Why.  it's  only  the  difference  of  a  'd.'" 

"  You  forget  the  £  s. ,"  put  in  his  friend, 
sorrowfully,  for  he  had  backed  the  fa- 
vourite. 


JULY  24,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THi;    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


25 


In  the  Rmv.     Earli,  Morning. 
1'oliceman  (to  Lord  Rupert,  who  prides  himself  on  his  horsey  get-up).  "Now  THEN,  YOUNO  MAS,  ALL  GROOMS  OUTSIDE  BY  SEVEN  O'CLOCK  ! " 


"PAS  DB ^CHARGE"  1  CANTERBURY. 

LAST  week  the  Dean  and  Chapter  of  St.  Paul's,  having  caved  in 
before  the  guns  of  Lord  CHARLES  BERE8FORD,the  Dean  and  Chapter 
of  Canterbury  Cathedral,  fearing  a  like  fate,  summoned  to  their  aid 
"  Lieutenant-Colonel  S.  NBWTON  DICKENSON,  High  Seneschal  of 
Canterbury  Cathedral  "—(splendid  title,  but  majority  of  folks 
never  heard  of  him  before,  which  shows  the  blissfulness  of  j 
majority's  ignorance) — who  forthwith  attacked  the  "  Pious 
Pilgrim  "  for  having  written  to  the  Times,  narrating  how  he 
(the  P.  P.  and  friends)  had  refused  to  pay  an  attendant,  "  as 
verger  clad,"  half-a-crown  for  a  private  view  of  some  part  of 
the  Cathedral.  Pious  Pilgrim  withstood  the  charge.  Gallant 
Colonel  DICTTBNSON,  of  the  Church  Militant,  returned  to  the 
charge  (of  half-a-crown  extra,  the  usual  fee  for  a  party  being 
sixpence  a  head),  and  bore  down  on  the  Pious  Pilgrim.  For 
ourselves,  we  would,  judicially  and  judiciously,  suggest  that 
there  should  be  a  few  special  vergers  in  attendance  to  take 
care  of  those  wishing  for  a  quiet  time  in  the  Cathedral  apart 
from  the  wearied  and  wearying  parroty  guide  and  the  crowding 
tourists  that  usually  accompany  him,  and  that  these  guardian 
angels  should  be  empowered  to  charge  extra  for  the  special 
privilege.  But  why  cannot  the  'umble  Canterbury  Pilgrim  be 
allowed  to  wander  about  the  Cathedral  just  where  he  likes,  fancy 
free,  all  day,  if  he  be  so  minded,  without  his  reveries  being  dis- 
turbed by  vergers,  guides,  Deans,  and  Chapters-out-of-guide- 
books?  The  "Pious  Pilgrim"  will  take  precious  good  care  to 
isolate  himself  from  the  crowd  ;  and  if  the  Pious  Pilgrim  puts  in 
his  pious  pence,  why  should  not  the  entire  Cathedral  be  open  to 
him,  crypt  and  all?  Try  the  penny-in-t he-slot  principle.  Put  a 
penny  in  and  "Open,  Sesame!"  Of  course,  place  a  detective 
verger  or  two  to  walk  about  and  watch,  lest  Pious  Pilgrim  pick 
pieces  with  pocket  penknife,  in  which  case  Pious  P.  could  be 
handed  over  to  Canterbury  Constable,  or— let  Lieutenant-Colonel 
NEWTON  DICKENSON,  High  Seneschal,  at  his  full  height,  be  sent 
for,  and  let  the  Beady  Representative  of  the  Church  Militant 
take  prisoner  the  Impudent  Iconoclast,  and  confine  him  in  the 
deepest  dungeon  of  the  castle  mont,  wherever  that  may  be. 


"TATE    MONTE!" 

TUB  National  Gallery  of  British  Art  is  opened !  It  is  to  be 
found  on  the  Embankment,  easily  get-at-able  when  you  know 
the  route.  A  pleasant  trip  to  it  from  either  East  or  West  in 
summer-time  would  be  by  steamer  if  there  were  only  a  pier  or 
landing-stage  immediately  opposite  the  Tate  Palace  of  Art.  Had 
HBNRY  TATE  not  been  entett  on  the  subject,  even  this  site  might 
not  have  been  obtained.  To-day  it  is  to  be  opened  by  H.R^H. 
the  Prince  of  WALES.  HENRY  TATB  must  be  a  proud  man  this 
day,  and  restraining  his  emotion  by  saying,  with  nis  hand  en  his 
heart,  "  Tote  toi  man  cacur!  " 

A  NAVAL  HERO'S  VICTORY. 

LORD  CHARLES  BERBSFORD — "CHASLET  is  our  darling" — in- 
duced H.R.H.  the  Prince  of  WALES  to  impress  on  the  Dean  and 
Chapter  of  St.  Paul's  the  falsity  of  the  step  they  were  contem- 
plating in  their  design  of  removing  the  BRUGES  memorial  from  its 
place  in  St.  Paul's  to  make  room  for  a  bust  of  Sir  FREDERIC 
LEIOHTON,  P.R.A.  So  the  Dean  and  Chapter,  unable  to  with- 
stand this  broadside,  have  decided,  in  a  truly  nautical  Beres- 
fordian  fashion,  to  keep  Admiral  BRUGES  aboard,  and  to  "let  50 
the  painter."  Simple  folk  used  to  think  that  Bruges  was  in 
Belgium.  Now  they  Know  that  BRUGES  is  in  London,  at  St.  Paul's. 

"De   Deux   Shows." 

IT  is  said  that  DALY'S  and  the  Gaiety  skimmed  the  cream  of  the 
Jubilee  visitors,  and,  in  a  general  way,  took  the  cake  for  theii 
entertainments.  The  little  Geisha,  The  Light  o'  Love  of  Asia, 
is  still  as  seducious  as  ever,  while,  in  spite  of  the  hot  weather, 
crowded  houses  at  the  Gaiety  are  convulsed  by  the  wonderful 
low-comedian  face  and  genuinely  humorous  acting  of  Mr.  EDMUND 
PAYNB  as  Itigg*.  The  whole  wrestling  incident  is  immense  ;  and 
as  for  his  face,  it  is  the  chief  feature  of  the  piece.  ^  Motto  for 
Gaiety  prnprnmme  at  present, — "  Print  fnrtr  ft  ditre. 


VOL.    OXIII. 


2G 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  24,  1897 


CLEARED! 

Custom  House  Officer  Jackson.  "  ANYTHING  TO  DECLARE  t "  Joe  Gh-irib-rl-n  (frankly).  "  NOTHING  WHATBVEK  !  " 


JULY  24,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


27 


HOW  THE  MATCH  CAME  OFF. 

A  HAHMONY  ON  WHEELS. 

(Miss  Angelica  has  challciujtd  Mr.   H'ulherspoon 

to  a  race  on  the  Queen's  highway.) 

Fytte  1. 

Mr.  W.  Fine  start  I 

(Faint  heart!) 
Miss  A.  Horrid  hill  I 

(Feeling  ill  I) 

t'ytte  2. 

Mr.  W.  Going  strong) 
Come  along ! 

Fytte  3. 

Miss  A.  Road  quite  even! 
Perfect  heaven  I 

Fi/Ue  4. 

Mr.  W.  Goal  in  view  I 

Running  true  I 
MisiA.  Make  it  faster! 
Spur  your  caster! 

Fytte  5. 

Mr.  W.  Fairly  done  I 
Misi  A.  Match  is  won ! 

[  They  dismount.     Paitse. 

Mr.  W.  What!     Confess! 
Mia  A.  Well  then— y»sl 


ETON  jr.  HAEKOW. 

IT  seems  to  me  inexpressibly  sad  that 
these  two  Schools  should  still  be  pitted  one 
against  the  other.  The  same  thing  hap- 
pened last  year,  and,  I  believe,  the  year 
before.  But  in  the  name  of  common 
sense,  speaking  as  a  rate-payer,  what  is  all 
tho  trouble  about  ?  What  grievance  has 
Harrow  against  Eton,  or,  if  it  comes  to 
that,  Eton  against  Harrow  ?  Surely  it 
would  be  a  graceful  act  in  this  year  of 
— the  word  begins  with  a  J — if  these 
Schools  could  shake  hands  and  bury  the 
cricket-bat.  Besides,  it  might  take  root 
and  become  a  wooden  wall. 

AH  one  HAROLD,  some  time  the  local 
king,  remarked,  with  so  much  truth,  "The 
playing  fields  of  Eton  were  lost  at  the 
Battle  of  Hastings."  Of  course  the  match 
at  Lord's  may  be  a  great  moral  influence. 
That  is  the  stage  name  of  anything  that 
seems  to  serve  no  useful  purpose.  But 
what  does  it  decide?  Nothing.  If  Eton 
beats  Harrow,  the  Etonians  do  not  take 
that  Hill.  If  Harrow  beats  Eton,  no  wet 
Bobs  are  sent  into  captivity.  Then  the 
question  arises,  "  Why  do  it  ? "  It  is 
splendid,  but  is  it  sense?  And  the  tax- 
payer ?  Half-a-crown  is  surely  a  great  deal 
of  money  to  pay  for  the  privilege  of 
walking  about,  bedecorated  as  for  a  belated 
cattle  show. 

Possibly,  when  the  other  Lords  are 
abolished,  this  one  will  go,  too.  And  it 
is  high  time,  for  yesterday  I  witnessed 
a  disgraceful  scene.  A  bright  young  lad 
strolled  aimlessly,  and  quite  inoffensively, 
out  of  the  pavilion  to  potter  about  at 
the  wicket.  It  seemed  silly,  but  anyhow, 
he  took  his  pleasure  that  way.  Suddenly 
a  stupendous  stripling,  apparently  a  com- 
plete stranger,  seized  a  solid  sphere,  and 
without  a  word  of  warning  hurled  it  at 
the  bright  young  mind.  Brave  little 
fellow!  Armed  only  with  a  cricket-bat, 
possibly  a  present  from  his  mother,  he 
tried  to  defend  himself,  but  was  severely 
(track  on  the  off  hind  leg.  And  the  crowd, 


LIFE'S 

CYCLIST  (AFTER  A  NISTY  SPILL 


LITTLE    TROUBLES. 

t  THE  BOTTOM  OF  TBE  HILL)  CATCHES  SIGHT  OF  TBE 
TAVERN  SIGN-FOOT. 


Englishmen,  cheered!  The  poor  wounded 
lad  immediately  ran  for  his  assailant, 
One  expected  a  general  fracas.  But  no. 
The  young  student  was  as  good  aa  he  was 
brave.  When  within  a  foot  of  his  tor- 
mentor, he  decided  to  forgive  him,  and 
ran  back  again,  evidently  mistrusting  the 
stability  of  his  forgiveness.  Who  says 
that  little  Wiu.m  is  dead  ?  But  if  this  is 
cricket,  give  me  spellicansl 

However,  the  remedy  is  simple.  Let 
these  lads  settle  their  differences  by  arbi- 
tration. I  would  suggest  that  a  commit- 
tee be  appointed  consisting,  say,  of  myself, 
with  power  to  add  to  my  number,  and 
a  couple  of  casting  votes. 

I  have  absolutely  no  prejudice  in  favour 
of  either  Kindergarten,  having  been  edu- 
cated »t  one  of  our  leading  night-schoola, 


and  the  Old  Bailey  Mess.  But  should  my 
knowledge  of  cricket  be  deemed  an  ob- 
stacle, there  is  always  the  judge  who 
gained  the  record  reputation  for  ignorance 
by  asking,  "  What  is  an  idiot  P "  and 
"  Where  is  London  ?  " 

Anyhow,  and  at  all  costs,  let  us  remove 
an  institution  which  ia  a  disgrace  to  this 
so-called  Nineteenth  Century. 

The  Bearing  Sea  Seal  Difficulty. 

MR.  SHERMAN'S  manners  (or  rather,  the 
want  of  them)  are  peculiar.  With  the 
poet  we  exclaim,  "  Tantsene  auimis  aeal- 
estibug  irw  I  " 

WHAT  TO  DO  WITH  OUB  BUOYS.— Put 
them  over  our  Wrecks. 


28 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  24,  1897. 


A    SUITABLE    PROFESSION. 

Hector's  Daughter.  "WHAT  DO  YOU  MEAN  TO  DO  WITH  YOUR  SON 
JAMBS,  MRS.  BLOBB  ? " 
Mrs.  Elobb.  "  WELL,  Miss,  HE  "g  GOING  TO  WORK  FOR  MR.  LIGHT, 

THE    BUTCHER,     WHICH    IS    FORTUNATE,     FOR    JAMES    BE    DESPERATE 

foifo  Of  ANIMALS  1" 


OPERATIC    NOTES. 

Inez  Mendo. — How  is  the  new  Opera  liked  P  "  Some  men  do, 
some  men  don't,"  as  an  old  refrain  has  it ;  but  the  consensus  of 
opinion  seemed,  at  the  premiere,  when  our  Representative  Biter 
was  present,  to  be  decidedly  favourable,  and  the  feeling  of  the 
house  friendly  towards  the  composer,  Mr.  D'ERLANGER,  who,  as  a 
well-informed  critic  on  a  daily  paper  confided  to  his  readers,  is  "  a 
gentleman  well  known  in  financial  circles " — though  how  this 
directly  concerns  his  capability  as  a  musical  composer  ,is  not  by 
any  means  evident.  Perhaps  some  sly  allusion  to  "  notes  "  was 
intended,  and,  equally,  perhaps  it  wasn't.  However,  be  this  as 
it  may,  famous  will  be  the  successful  financier  who  can  write  a  suc- 
cessful Opera,  and  Beatified  the  Banker  who  can  compose  a 
beautiful  ballet  I  A  tuneful  Timon  or  a  musical  MAECENAS,  how 
welcome!  This  prefatial.  Inez  Mendo,  by  Mr.  D'EKLANGER- 
longer-loo,  has  made  a  decided  hit.  Madame  SAVILLE,  as  the 
Spanish  heroine  ("  Sweet  Saville  I  "),  is  charming,  both  as  to  her 
acting  and  singing ;  while,  as  to  Miss  MARGARET  REID,  the  com- 
poser is  fortunate  in  finding  such  a  REID,  not  a  broken  Reid  on 
which  to  trust  his  weight,  but  a  tuneful  REID  whereon  to  pipe  his 
tunes,  especially  that  one  in  the  first  act  where  she  replies  to  the 
singing,  "heard  off."  The  first  two  lines,  in  English,  of  the 
village  chorus  are, — 

"  Away,  you  joyous  lads  and  lasses, 
To  the  house  of  Inigo," 

which  may  perhaps  be  a  misprint  for 

"  To  the  house, — and  t«  we  go  !  " 

But  whatever  the  words  may  be,  the  music  and  the  singing  left 
nothing  to  be  desired, — except  to  have  some  "  more  where  that 
came  from."  Signor  ALVAREZ  was  in  good  voice,  and  jncommonly 
well  as  Salvador  de  Mendoza.  Mile.  VIQNB  and  the  utile-duki 


Mile.  BAUERMEISTER  were  "  two  village  girls," — lucky  the  village 
that  could  be  full  of  such  clever  maidens  1  M.  RENAWD  impressive 
as  the  headsman  Juan  Ulejulo,  showing  how  finely  he  could  exe- 
cute his  musical  task.  The  finish  of  the  Opera  is  a  sort  of  go-as- 
you-please  affair,  since  the  tender-hearted  librettist  makes 
Ali'.ndu,  on  one  side  of  the  last  page,  commit  suicide,  while  on  the 
other  sidtsMendu  only  injures  himself  so  slightly  with  the  dangerous 
weapon  that  the  Bev.  Air.  Pintado,  "Vicar  of  Monclar"  (played 
by  Mr.  GILIBEHT),  being  something  of  a  surgeon  as  well  as  a 
clergyman,  is  able  to  pronounce  an  opinion  gratis  to  the  effect 
that  "  His  hurt  may  yet  be  healed,"  that  is,  that  he  is  already 
"  on  the  mend  O  I  "  and  goes  on  to  explain  how  Inez  "  in  clinging 
to  his  arm,  diverted  the  keen  poignard."  So  not  only  did  Inez 
"  divert  "  a  poiguard,  but  she  also  delighted  an  anxious  audience. 
Personally,  we  prefer  the  happy  finish ;  but  the  purchaser  of 
the  book,  having  paid  his  money,  can  take  his  choice. 

Tuesday. — A  splendid  performance  of  our  superb  old  friend 
(with  several  new  faces)  The  Don.  In  the  bill  it  is  Don  Juan, 
kindly  translated  for  us  in  a  bracket  as  "Don  Giovanni."  How 
ignorant  Mr.  MAURICE  GRAU,  manager,  must  think  the  general 
public !  The  Don  sung  in  French  too !  Why,  some  of  us  scarcely 
recognised  the  most  familiar  airs  when  the  titles  are  given  a  la 
Francaise.  Scenery,  in  working,  a  trifle  uncertain,  not  knowing 
perhaps  whether  it  was  French  or  Italian.  Clave9in  in  the 
orchestra  tinkled  accompaniments  to  recitative. 

Tinkle,  tinkle,  little  clavecin, 
To  your  notes  so  many  hare  sang. 

Lota  of  "tin"  in  the  tinkle  of  these  clavecingular  accompani- 
ments. MOZART  wrote  for  it;  that's  sufficient.  Write  for  a 
clavecin,  and  see  that  you  get  it.  Here  it  is ;  MOZART  wrote 
for  it,  and  now  he  has  got  it,  at  Covent  Garden.  Monsieur 
MANOINELU — not  "  Signer,"  when  conducting  in  French — had 
quite  an  easy  time  of  it :  not  his  own  time,  of  course,  but 
MOZART'S.  M.  FUGEBE'S  Leporello  vastly  amusing,  as  also  was  M. 
GILIBERT'S  Mazetto.  M.  RENAUD  excellent  as  The  Don,  difficult 
as  it  is  to  come  after  MATTREL.  Mademoiselle  MACINTYRE  in 
capital  voice  for  Elvira,  and  Madame  ADINY,  unoppressed  by  her 
Aubrey-Beardsley  hat,  distinguished  herself  as  Donna  Anna. 
M.  JOURNET,  a  journee  tranquille  as  the  statue  of  the  Commen- 
datore,  grand,  as  representing  the  statue  and  the  base.  ZELIE  DE 
LTJSSAN  delightful  as  the  village  coquette  Zerlina,  and,  altogether, 
as  perfect  a  performance  of  The  Don  as  the  most  exacting  Opera- 
goer  could  demand.  'Tis  announced  again  for  Monday  next  ere 
these  musical  notes  appear. 

LAWN  LORDS  AT  WINDSOR. 

A  SPECIAL  Correspondent,  giving  his  account  of  how  Her 
MAJESTY'S  gracious  invitation  to  the  Castle  was  loyally  accepted 
by  all  the  Colonial  and  American-Anglican  Bishops  now  in  Eng- 
land, who,  like  the  little  mouse  in  the  old  nursery  adage,  are  thus 
enabled  to  sing,"  We  've  been  to  Windsor  to  see  the  QUEEN,"  re- 
counted how,  during  the  service  in  St.  George's  Chapel,"  the  gorge- 
ous colour  of  the  great  east  window, and  the  lovely  alabaster  reredos 
made  up  for  the  absence  of  episcopal  vestments,  and,  &c.,  &c." 
How  stained  glass  and  an  "  alabaster  reredos "  could  possibly  be 
excellent  substitutes  for  episcopal  vestments  is  perhaps  a  trifle 
difficult  to  laic  comprehension.  But  on  such  an  occasion,  far  be 
it  from  the  mind  of  even  the  most  ordinary  mortal  to  expect  a 
mere  prosaic  narrative.  It  was  a  great  day  for  shovel-hats, 
aprons  (not  Masonic,  but  episcopalian)  and  gaiters ;  smiling  faces 
everywhere.  Only  three  Bishops  looked  black :  but  this  was 
their  colour,  a  colour  indyed  by  nature,  and  which  they,  as 
Justice  Shallow  observed  to  Sir  John  Falstaff  (Knight  of 
Windsor),  "  will  die  in."  Having  regard  to  the  episcopalian  cos- 
tume, and  remembering  PHIZ'S  illustrations  to  the  immortal 
Dickensian  work,  we  cannot  but  exclaim,  "  What  a  really  typical 
bishop  Mr.  Pickwick  would  have  made  1 "  Fancy  The  Bight 
Beverend  Dr.  Pickwick,  Bishop  of  Eatanswill,  attended  by  his 
apparitor,  Bev.  Samuel  Wetter!!  Only  one  omission.  The  dis- 
tinguished nobleman  who  ought  to  have  received  the  ecclesiastical 
Lawn  Lords  should  have  been  the  Marquis  of  LORNE,  who  is  not 
mentioned  as  having  been  present.  It  is  to  be  hoped  his  lordship  was 
enjoying  himself  in  good  company  elsewhere,  and  that  he  was  not 
complaining,  like  Mrs.  Gummidge,  of  being  "Lone  and  Lorn." 

QUITE  APPROPRIATE. — Where  in  St.  Paul's  ought  the  statue  of 
a  great  naval  hero  to  be  placed?  Why,  in  any  "bay"  that 
happens  to  be  vacant. 

AT  BISLEY  LAST  WEEK. — Ninety-five  degrees  in  the  shade. 
Too  hot  to  be  Bis'ley  engaged  in  anything. 


JULY  24,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


ONE    TOUCH    OF   NATURK. 

SOKNK— A  London  Cricket  Match.  A  "Jessop"  °f  &*  "°*r  "  <m  tht 
sloy."  A  scientific  ytmny  cricketer  and  an  enthusiastic  old  spectator 
exchange  views. 

HAY?    Wot  am  I  a  howling  at ?    Well,  if  yer  want  ter  know, 

Becos  I  am  enjying  of  myself  I 
You  're  a  young  cricketer,  I  s'pose ;   may  be  yer  vein*  run  snow 

And  I     wt.ll,  I  'in  a  "crock/'  upon  the  shelf. 
But  to  si>i»  that  young  bloke  batting  warms  me  up,  mate,  end  no 
kid, — 

Bray vo  III     I  knuw'd  he  'd  bust  that  bloomiu'  roof. 
Ouuht  never  to  'ave  touched  it  ?     Well,  but  there,  yer  see,  'e  did 

And  long-field  rubs  his  poll  as  if  in  proof. 
Most  uMkwntifio  cricket  ?    Shouldn't  wonder  if  you  're  right, 

But,  by  jinks,  the  bright-eyed  youngster  makes 'ein  go. 
They  mayn't  go  where  they  ought  to,  but  they  go  nigh  out  o 
sight, 

And  they  can't  field  in  the  skies,  mate,  don't  cher  know. 
He  '11  hit  up  a  ketch  direckly  ?  SMUOO  '11  nail  him,  sure  as  f»t  e  P — 

O  well,  so  much  the  luckier,  then,  for  SMUUU. 
But  you  '11  own  that  up  to  now  he  is  top-scorer,  seventy-eight,— 

And  /  'ope  he  '11  pile  his  cent'ry,  though  a  mug. 
Look  at  Unit  '    "  Ought  to  h»'  drove  it,  and  he  mowed  it  roum 
to  leg  P"— 

Lor  I    Isn't  there  no  law  against  sech  crimes  ? 
Look  at  \V.  Q.  a-grinning.     Ought  to  take  BAT  down  »  peg, 

But  'e  doesn't,  though  it  'a  'appened  several  times. 
Wot '«  that  I     Eighteen  in  one  hover  t    Ah  I  yer  se«  that  swells 
the  ncorel 

And  most  captains  'ave  a  weakness  for  tuch  play. 
Yus  I     To  make  his  level  hundred  'e  wants  only  one  more  four. 

And,  by  Jingo,  'ere  it  comas  I     Hi  I  clear  the  way  I 
And  let  young  Hundred-Tanner's  swipe  go  whack  for  all  it  '•  worth 

Hooray  I  do '»  done  it  I     Scissors  I  don't  they  howl  I 
This  here '«  ns  good  as  most  things  they  git  up  on  this  old  eartk 

A  shout  is  better  biznesa  than  a  growl. 

Why,  vou'ie  howling — like  a  hoysterman!     You  'umbogl     'Are 
a  drir'kl 

That,  is,  when  you  'ave  fairly  dome  your  shout  I 
I  'ope  he  11  make  a  million  'ere  he  goes  to  the  Pavilion, 

And  by  Jingo,  I  am  game  to  sit  it  out  I 


A  SURPRISE ! 

TIMB—  Breakfast  time,  Saturday,  July  17. 
Sower.     Harp  and  Laurel-crown  impended. 


SCENE — The  Laureate'! 
Tea  and  toast  on  table. 


Alfredo  Austino  (starting,  at  he  open*  hit  "  Times,"  and  first 
catches  sight  of  RUDYABD  KlPLnro'8  poem,  and  then  reads  conclu- 
sion of  leading  article,  where  R.  K.'s  verses  are  extolled  for  their 
"  simple  grandeur  ").  "'  Recessional,'  indeed !  This  is  rather  too 
progressional  I  (Lai/ing  down  the  newspaper,  and  appealing  to  the 
world  generally.)  Hang  it !  Am  I  the  Laureate,  or  am  I  not  P  " 
[Meditates  over  cup  of  tea,  and  wishes  he  had  thought  of ' '  Recessional. " 


H.M.S.    "GOOD   HOPE." 

( With  three  times  three  for  Sir  Oordon  Spriqg  and  the  Cape  Parliament.) 

WHERE  fierce  Atlantic's  restless  breast 
Is  bosomed  wide  from  East  to  West, 
Where  Pacific  of  the  South  meets  her  Sister  of  the  North, 
By  myriad  isles  of  ardent  glow, 
By  continents  of  constant  snow, 
Wherever  lurks  a  common  foe, 

Ship  of  Gavd  Hope,  go  forth  I 

Go  forth !  with  rounds  of  ringing  cheers, 
First  of  the  Empire's  volunteers. 

When  the  enemies  of  Britain  with  her  children  try  to  cope. 
Then  show  them  that  we  may  not  be 
Coerced  while  we  possess  the  Sea, 
The  Heritage  that  makes  us  free. 

Go  forth,  well-named  Good  Hope  I 


THE  SULTAN  says  that  Nine  Powers  are  allied  against  him : 
ftve  sovereigns  plus  FAITKI. 


HBNLBY.— Heat  plut  heaU. 
NIOKALI*  "stroking  Lewder." 


Scorching.    Pretty  to  see  GUT 
Leander  seemed  pleased. 


Father  Thames  (coming  up  far  the  opening  of  the  National  Gallery 
of  British  Art  by  H.R.H.   the  Prince  of  Wales).    "BRAVO,   TATB  ! 

NOW,  I»  ONLY  THB  PUBLIC  CAN    FIND    THEIR    WAT    HERE,    THERE'LL 
BB  QUIT*  A  BUN  ON   ICY  MlLLBANK  I " 


A  SUGGESTED  TRANSFORMATION  SCENE. 

DEAR  MB.  PUNCH, — I  venture  to  submit  to  your  notice  a 
•hange  of  scene  likely  to  b*  appreciated  by  all  Londoners  and 
/heir  country  cousins,  in  view  of  the  electric  lighting  about  to 
be  re-established  on  the  Thames  Embankment. 

Now,  as  it  it. — Darkness  made  visible.  Disreputable  charac- 
«rs.  Thieves,  and  possibly  assassins.  Loafers  and  prowlers. 
Pretty  gardens  wasted.  The  shade  of  beautiful  trees  neglected. 
Thirsty  folk  and  no  refreshments.  One  band. 

In  future,  as  it  might  be. — Bands  playing.  Marionette  and 
Punch  and  Judy  Shows.  Out-door  cafes.  Plenty  of  chairs  and 
ittle  tables.  A  recreation  ground  for  children.  Everything 
iright  and  cheerful  under  the  beam  of  Elect  ra. 

In  some  matters  they  certainly  do  manage  things  better  in 
France.  Why  should  our  fine  Boulevard  be  wasted  P  Why 
should  the  L.C.O.  neglect  a  source  of  revenue  from  grub  con- 
tractors P  Yours  obediently,  A.  BuTTBRrLT. 

Temple,  B.C.  

ECLIPSING  HIMSELF  I — "  Why  drag  in  VELASQUBZ  P  "  as  JAMBS 
C-XEIL  WHISTLER  pathetically  inquired  of  the  gushing  lady 
who  had  said  there  were  only  two  great  artists,  namely,  the 
>ainter  she  was  addressing  and  VELASQUEZ.  Lord  ROSBBBBY, 
lowever,  was  determined  to  "  drag  in  Velasquez  "  for  the  Eclipse 
Stakes  last  Friday  at  Sandown,  which  H.R.H.  the  Prince  of 
VALBS'S  popular  Persimmon  won  by  a  couple  of  lengths,  Velasquez 
>eing  second.  Persimmon  has  now  won  seven  eventa,  so  at 
present  it  is,  with  him,  a  case  of  "  seven  to  one  "  on  him. 


MB.  PUNCH'!  ADVIOB  ON  MM  SOUTH  AFRICA  COMMITTBB  REPORT. 
— Drop  it. 


30 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  24,  1897. 


Ethel  (reading  from  look  of  familiar  sayings).  "'A  MAN  AT  FORTY  is  HITHER  A  FOOL  OR  A  PHYSICIAN."     THAT'S  RATHER  FUNNY, 
KATB.     DADDY  is  MOKE  THAN  FORTY,  AND  HE  's  CERTAINLY  NOT  A  PHYSICIAN  ! " 


THE  POLITE  POST-BAG, 

July  13. — Much  struck  by  article  in  morning  paper  regretting 
hurried  and  unpolished  style  of  modern  correspondence.  This, 
it  seems,  was  one  of  the  things  which  were  managed  far  better 
in  the  past,  "when,"  I  read,  "there  was  a  delightful  spirit  in 
private  letters,  a  stately  formality  in  those  concerning  matters  of 
business."  Why  should  I  not  contribute  towards  wished-for  im- 
provement ?  Yes,  I  will. 

I. — To  MY  BOOTMAKER. 

"  To  Messrs.  TAO  AND  LACE,  makers  of  boots,  shoes,  and  slippers, 
Greeting.  We  by  these  presents  do  make  known  unto  you  that 
we  require  for  our  own  personal  use  and  adornment  one  pair  of 
Boots,  to  be  made,  executed,  and  fashioned  in  the  same  manner 
as  those  formerly  constructed  at  our  command.  And  you  are  to 
take  notice  that  the  aforesaid  boots  are  to  be  forwarded  within 
fourteen  days  from  this  date,  under  pain  of  incurring  our  dis- 
pleasure. Given  under  our  hand  this  thirteenth  of  July,  at  our 
abode,  No.  52,  The  Shrubberies,  Putney. 

(Signed)  THOMAS  JONES." 

That  ought  to  impress  them,  I  think.     Now  for  my  tailor,  who 
asks  for  the  "  settlement  of  his  little  account." 
II.— To  THOMAS  SNIPS,  TAILOR. 

"  How  now,  saucy  varlet !  Dost  think  to  affright  me  with  thy 
foolish  threats  P  Beshrew  thee,  right  sore  shall  thy  pate  be  if 
thou  thus  addressest  me  again.  '  Small  account,'  forsooth  1  O, 
SNIPS,  SNIPS,  the  love  of  money  hath  gotten  hold  of  thee ;  ill 
indeed  is  thy  craving  for  this  world's  dross,  nor  will  I  aid  thee 
in  satisfying  it.  Out  upon  thee  for  a  scurvy  rascal  1 " 

Feel  quite  sure  that  SNIPS  has  never  had  a  letter  like  that  in  all 
his  life,  and  the  effect  upon  him  will  be  tremendous.  Next 
comes  an  invitation  to  dinner.  Yes,  the  modern  way  of  answer- 
ing invitations  is  deplorably  bald.  How  much  nobler  is  the 
Queen  Anne  style,  which  I  shall  henceforward  adopt  for  letters  of 
thi»  kind  I 

III. — To  MRS.  SNUPHKINS,  QUEEN'S  GATE,  LONDON.' 

Madam, — Of  all  the  delights  which  we  poor  mortal*  are  per- 
mitted to  enjoy,  not  least,  the  philosophers  tell  us,  is  the  pleasure 
of  anticipation.  And  that  delight,  O  incomparably  fairect  of 


your  sex,  you  have  granted  to  me,  the  humblest  of  your  devoted 
servants.  How  long  will  the  days  seem,  how  slowly  will  the 
hours  pass  until,  at  8  P.M.,  on  the  24th,  I  can  obey  your  com- 
mands, I  can  hasten  into  your  presence,  I  can  bask  in  the  divine 
sunshine  of  your  smiles  I  Until  which  time,  Madam,  I  would 
have  you  to  know  that  I  am,  and  shall  continue  to  be  for  ever, 
your  most  devoted  servant  and  admirer,  THOMAS  JONES." 

Yes,  what  an  improvement  is  that  upon  "  Mr.  JONES  has  much 
pleasure  in  accepting  Mrs.  SNTJPHKINB'  kind  invitation  for  the 
24th  inst.  I "  Only  one  more  letter  this  morning — to  my  old 
Aunt  TAIUTII A.  This  is  clearly  a  case  for  that  "  delightful  ease 
and  familiarity,"  which,  the  article  tells  me,  ought  to  be  manifest 
in  one's  letters  to  relatives  and  friends. 

IV. — To  MY  AUNT  TABITHA. 

"  Well,  old  TABBY,  how  are  you  ?  Pretty  fit,  I  hope  ?  Have 
you  got  a  new  wig  yet,  by  the  way  ?  That  last  one  of  yours  was 
a  fair  terror — wouldn't  deceive  a  cow.  How  are  the  missionary 
meetings  getting  on  ?  I  suppose  you  get  a  good  commission  on 
the  tracts,  don't  you  ?  Let  me  hear  from  you  before  Goodwood, 
and  I  '11  put  you  up  to  one  or  two  real  good  things,  in  which  you 
can  invest  the  takings  of  your  collecting-boxes.  You  want  me  to 
stay  with  you  again  at  Puddleton,  but  you  don't  catch  me  at 
that  game  twice.  I  remember  my  last  visit  far  too  well  to  let 
myself  in  for  another  of  the  same  sort.  Well,  so  long,  old  girl. 
Keep  your  pecker  up.  Yours  ever,  THOMAS." 

Plenty  of  "  esprit  and  playful  badinage  "  there,  I  think.  Yes, 
the  article  is  quite  right — letters  of  this  kind  are  a  great  improve- 
ment on  the  modern  sort,  with  "  their  curt  sentences,  their  un- 
polished style,  their  hurried  manner."  I  shall  await  the  replies 
with  much  interest. 

P.S. — Two  days  later. — After  all,  I'm  afraid  I  can't  recom- 
mend my  friends  to  follow  my  example.  My  bootmakers  "  must 
decline  to  take  my  order,"  and  my  tailor  is  about  to  take  legal 
proceedings  against  me.  Major  SNtrpHKiNS  proposes  to  call  upon 
me  with  a  horsewhip,  alleging  that  I  have  grossly  insulted  his 
wife,  and  Aunt  TABITHA  has  promptly  cut  me  out  of  her  will ! 
Alas,  why  did  I  read  tkat  fatal  article  ?  Clearly  the  age  U  not 
ripe  for  reform  1  

Taa  UNIVMUAL  MOTTO  AT  HBNLBY. — Open  house-boat. 


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JULY  24,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


33 


ANCIENT    HISTORY. 

The  Frumps  (who  rather  fancy  themselves  in  this  style).  "  IT 'a  CALLED  THE  EARLY  VIOTOEIAJJ  BONHST." 

Guileless  Youth  (under  the  impression  that  he  is  paying  a  graceful  compliment'',.   "On  YIS.     I  SUPPOSE  YOU  WORE  THEM  WHEN  ton 
WERE  QUITS  GIRLS  !  "  < 


THE  "SCHARIWARY"  CYCLING  COSTUME. 

[It  is  said  that  the  Russian  authorities  have  tent 
a  commission  over  to  England  to  study  the  subject 
of  ladies'  cycling  dress,  and  that  they  have  approved 
of  a  design  known  as  the  "  Schariwary,"  the  price 
of  which  is  to  be  fixed  at  from  14  to  18  roubles.] 

NABYEZHDA  NIKOLAYEVNA,  we  met 
Last  year  (perhaps  you  have  by  now  for- 
gotten 1) 

Not  far  from  Moscow — I  cannot  forget 
Your  costume,  as  you  rode  your  bicyclMt  — 
High  boots,  a  sort  of  kilt,  and  blouse  oi 
cotton. 

Whom  should  I  meet  again  the  other  day 
But  you,  in  Paris,  on  your  airy  vtlo, 

Along  the  Avenue  La  Grande  Armee ; 

This  time  you  had  a  jersey  dtcollett, 
A.  flat  straw  hat,  with  pants  and  gaiters 
yellow  I 

They  say  the  Muscovite  police  are  shocked 

At  such  un-Russian  feminine  vagaries  ; 

Their  fiat  is  that  English  modes  be  stocked, 

Henceforth,  and  every  cyclewoman  frpcked 

In  modest,  unassuming  "Charivaris." 

This  latter  word  one's  soul  with  wonder 

fills- 
Excuse  me  if  the  question  over-rude  is  I 
Is  it  that  you  may  coast  the  Sparrow  Hills, 
Or  thread  the  Kremlin  with  no  fear  of  spills 
In  costume  that  resembles  Punch  and 
Judy's? 

With  prices  fixed  you  're  shamefully  coerced 
By  dull  officialdom  that  ever  meddles ; 


Still,  NADYA,  may  you  yet  ride  many  a  verst, 
However  drestl     May  his  tyre  promptly 

burst 
Who  would  forbid  you  use  your  dainty 

pedals! 


COMMON  OBJECTS  OF  THE  SEA-SHORE: 

THH  "disguised  minstrel,"  believed  by 
the  public  to  be  a  peer  of  the  realm  col- 
lecting coin  for  a  charity,  but  who  is  in 
reality  the  sentimental  singer  from  a 
perambulating  troop  of  nigger  banjoists, 

working  on  his  own." 

The  preacher  whose  appreciation  of  the 
value  of  logic  and  the  aspirate  is  on  a  par. 

The  intensely  military  young  man  whose 
occupation  during  eleven  months  in  the 
year  is  the  keeping  of  ledger*  in  a  small 
city  office. 

The  artist  who  guarantees  a  pleasing 
group  of  lovers  for  sixpence,  frame  in- 
cluded. 

The  band  that  consists  of  a  cornet,  a 
trombone,  a  clarionet,  some  bass,  and  a 
big  drum,  which  is  quite  as  effective 
(thanks  to  the  trombone)  when  all  the 
principals  have  deserted  in  search  of 
coppers. 

And  last  (and  commonest  of  all)  the 
cockney  who,  after  a  week's  experience  of 
the  discomforts  of  the  seaside,  is  weary  of 
them,  and  wants  to  go  home. 


FROM  OUR  IRREPRESSIBLE  ONE  (in  so  far 
as  we  learn,  in  concealment) . — Q.  What 
plant  reminds  one  at  the  came  time  ot 
Christmas  festivities  and  a  summer  carouse 
with  German  student*?  A.  The  holly- 
hock. 


34 


PUNCH,   OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[Jui.Y  24,  1897. 


SHERMAN,    THE    POLITE    LETTER-WRITER. 

A  FANCY  PORTRAIT. 


REFLECTIONS  ON  A  BROKEN  ENGAGEMENT. 

HER  REFLECTIONS.     (Seep.  12.) 

"  WE  parted  I  "    Yes,  I  saw  your  verse, 

Which,  though  (thank  heaven)  so  far 

true, 
Has  only  made  me  think  the  worse, 

If  that  is  possible,  of  you. 
I  think  you  positively  base 

To  tell  the  public  how  we  parted, 
I  think  you  might  have  had  the  grace 

To  be  a  little  broken-hearted  I 

I  think,  to  give  you  answer  back, 

I  'd  sooner  wed  an  utter  scamp 
Than  any  virtuous  maniac, 

Whose  soul  is  centred  in — a  stamp  I 
I  think  a  girl,  to  be  your  wife, 

Should  be,  what  I  am  not,  ambitious 
To  share  one  lofty  aim  in  life — 

A  green  or  blue  (surcharged)   Mauri- 
tius! 

I  think  my  conscience  is  unpricked 

By  any  of  your  falsehoods  black, 
I  think  you  ought  to  be  well  kicked — 

And  so  do  "Bon,"  and  "DiOK,"  and 

"JACK"! 
I  think  I  Ve  put  you  to  the  rout ; 

Let  me  return  to  where  you  started — 
"  We  parted— cheerfully."    No  doubt. 

To  me  the  main  point  is — we  parted ! 


At  the  Hyperion  Club. 

(After  the  Jubilee.) 

First  Member.  Going  to  Goodwood,  old 
chappie  ? 

Second  Member.  I  'm  not  quite  sure,  but 
my  goVnor's  trying  to  get  me  a  shop  as 
race-card  seller.  You  see?  being  in  the 
Upper  House,  he  '•  got  a  little  influence. 

First  Member.  That 's  where  you  fellows 
get  the  pull.  My  dad 's  only  a  parson,  and 
h«  doesn't  know  the  Bishop  of  ORIOHMTM  I 


THE  CARETAKER'S  VADE  MECUM. 

Question.  What  do  you  consider  your 
duties  ? 

Answer.  To  keep  in  the  house  in  which 
I  am  placed,  and  make  myself  comfortable. 

Q.  Is  your  comfort  your  first  considera- 
tion ? 

A.  Certainly ;  as  that  would  be  the 
wish  of  my  employer. 

Q.  If  you  occupy  an  unfurnished  house, 
and  have  to  show  over  a  possible  tenant, 
what  do  you  do? 

A.  I  take  care  that  the  possible  tenant 
shall  know  that  the  basement  is  damp,  and 
the  shape  of  the  reception  rooms  awkward. 

Q.  Then  you  point  put  the  defects  ? 

A.  Very  freely  ;  as  it  would  never  do  to 
make  a  false  impression. 

Q.  When  you  are  in  an  unfurnished 
house,  how  long  can  you  remain? 

A.  As  long  aa  I  please,  for  visitors 
usually  adopt  the  opinion*  of  the  resident 
guide. 

Q.  Do  you  take  charge  of  furnished 
residences  during  the  absence  of  their 
owners  at  the  seaside  or  on  the  continent  ? 

A.  Of  course ;  and  then  I  turn  the  best 
drawing-room  into  my  boudoir,  while  using 
the  pantry  as  a  resting-place. 

Q.  Can  you  answer  tke  questions  of 
callers  ? 

A.  Only  by  saying,  "I  am  sure  I  don't 
know  where  they  have  gone." 

Q.  Can  you  give  any  further  informa- 
tion? 

A.  Yes;  I  can  say,  "I  don't  know  when 
any  of  them  are  coming  back." 

Q.  But  surely  that  might  create  an  im- 
pression that  the  owners  were  ruined  and 
sold  up? 

A.  May  be;  but  that  i»  their  business, 
and  not  mine. 

Q.  And  do  you  give  satisfaction  to  your 
employers  ? 

A.  I  suppose  BO,  M  I  am  engaged  by 
theui  year  af t»r  year,  aid  time  after  time. 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Geiitleman  of  the  Town  gently  reproves  a  lady 
with  whom  he  has  dallied,  for  circulating 
false  reports  with  regard  to  himself  aiul  a 
damsel. 

I  CAN  enjoy  a  diatribe 

Without  the  anger  boiling 
That  makes  one  hate  a  jeer  or  jibe 

When  there 's  no  chance  of  foiling 
The  enemy  who  plumes  his  dart 

With  just  enough  of  scandal 
To  pierce  the  hapless  victim's  heart — 

A  shaft  that  others  handle! 

The  thunder  in  the  air,  may  be, 

Has  soured  your  milk  of  kindness  ; 
Or  is  it  that  you  cannot  see 

From  momentary  blindness  ? 
Something  is  wrong,  or  you  would  not, 

O'erfilled  with  wrathful  flurry, 
Write  letters  venomous  and  hot — 

Forgetting  LINDLBT  MUBRAY. 

I  did  not  mean  your  charms  to  slight — 

How  could  I  ?     They  're  entrancing  I 
Does  not  your  presence  give  delight  ? 

Do  I  not  love  your  dancing  ? 
You  trip  the  light  fantastic  toe 

Like  some  fleet,  flitting  fairy  ; 
You  have  the  rare  and  mystic  "  go  " 

That  makes  a  waltz  seem  airy. 

Why  letters  so  absurd  inscribe 

To  me  about  Miss — you  know  ? 
No  Venus  could  my  judgment  bribe ; 

Athene  fail  with  Juno. 
But  this  at  least  I  may  confess, 

To  stop  sweet  Mrs.  Grundy, 
I  put  a  query  ;  she  said,  "  Yes  "  ; 

And  we  '11  be  one  on  Monday  I 


SAKA'S  LATEST  SCENE. 

MADAME  SARAH  BERNHARDT  went  to 
play  La,  Tosca  at  Portsmouth.  Great 
preparations.  Mayor,  with  Corporation, 
ready  to  receive  her.  She  came,  she  saw, 
and,  according  to  the  Daily  Mail,  noticing 
that  there  were  many  steps  up  to  the  town- 
hall,  where  the  dignitaries  awaited  her, 
she  refused  to  ascend,  and  instead,  she, 
like  Mr.  Box  when  he  had  made  all  his 
preparations  for  committing  suicide, 
"  walked  off  in  the  opposite  direction  "- 
that  is,  drove  off,  leaving  Mr.  Mayor 
plante  la. 

Our  inspired  poet,  remembering  the  old 
chorus  of  "  Sally,  come  uj>,"  still  popular 
with  niggers  on  the  sands  in  summer-time, 
says:  — 

"  SALLY,  come  up  ! "    But  SALLY  did  frown, 
Staring  at  Mayor  in  chain  and  gown ; 
Then  SALLY  drove  off  to  inn  in  town. 
Now  who  can  read  the  riddle  ? 

Soon  after  this  contretemps,  Mr. 
MAYEB,  of  BEBNHABDT  staff,  called  on  Mr. 
Mayor  of  Portsmouth,  and  explained  why 
S.  B.  would  not  take  those  steps  up  to  the 
town-hall,  and  why  she  took  the  step  she 
did.  No  doubt  the  explanation  was  satis- 
factory. 

The   Swooper  at  Bisley. 

Friend  (to  Private  BUTTS  of  the  Mum- 
bleton  Fallbacks) .  Are  you  going  in  for  the 
QUEEN'S  Prize  ? 

Private  B.  QUEEN'S  Prize  be  hanged  I 
I  always  enter  for  the  useful  competitions. 
Already  I've  won  a  sewing  machine,  three 
dozen  of  Scotch  whiskey,  a  package  of 
sardines  in  oil,  a  miniature  organ,  and 
box  of  compressed  soups.  And  I  've  a  very 
good  chance  of  getting  a  case  of  champagne 
and  a  revolver  to-morrow,  old  boy  I 


Jui  T  24,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


M 


Cockney.  "Goon  'Evms  !  THERE'S  A  PHEASANT  I"         Country  Friend.  "WELL,  WHAT  OF  IT?" 
Cockney.  "WHY,  IT  AIN'T  THE  FUST  OF  HOCTOBBR!" 


!A  PRIVATE  COMMITTEE  OF  INQUIRY. 

Question.  What  is  the  difference  be- 
tween a  Circumlocution  Office  and  a  Com- 
mittee of  Inquiry? 

Answer.  One  objects  to  questions  and 
the  other  to  answers. 

Q.  How  do  you  mean? 

A.  The  one  objects  to  "fellows  who 
want  to  know,  don  tcher  know,"  the  other 
to  fellows  who  are  ready  to  tell,  "  don'tcher 
see." 

Q.  Does  an  Inquiry  Committee,  then, 
object  to  inquiry — which  would  seem  to 
be  the  season  of  its  existence  ? 

A.  Not  exactly.  It  only  objects  to  in- 
quiry which  is  likely  to  elicit  anything 
definite,  or  disagreeable — often  the  same 
thing. 

Q.  What,  then,  is  the  use  of  a  Com- 
mittee of  Inquiry? 

A.  Well — ahem! — it  might  be  necessary 
to  appoint  another  Committee  of  Inquiry 
to — ahem! — inquire  into  that. 

Q.  But  would  it  find  out? 

A.  Most  certainly  not. 

Q.  What,  then,  would  it  do? 

A.  Issue  a  report — perhaps  several. 

Q.  What  would  they  contain? 

A.  Nothing — to  the  purpose. 

Q.  I  think,  perhaps,  we  may  as  well  close 
this  inquiry. 

A.  So  do  I!  Though  I  could  tell  you  a 
good  deal  more,  mind  you  1 

Q.  Ah!  yes — but 

A.  Quite  so! 

[Exeunt  severally,  musing  gravely. 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  FKOM  THK  DIABT  OP  TOBY,  M.I'. 

House  of  Lords,  Monday,  July  12. — 
Of  all  places  in  the  world,  House  of  Lords 
to-day  narrowly  escaped  becoming  scene 
of  deplorable  scandal.  Danger  skirted  in 
connection  with  discussion  on  the  ques- 
tion of  County  versus  Diocesan-  Asso- 
ciations for  administration  of  Voluntary 
Schools  Act.  WANTAGE,  V.C.,  complains 
that  in  the  county  I  have  the  honour 
to  represent  in  the  Commons,  the  Oxford 
Diocesan  Conference  have  jockeyed  the 
managers  of  the  schools.  Managers 
elected  representatives  to  choose  two 
delegates  for  each  rural  deanery  in  Berk- 
shire, such  delegates  to  be  the  governing 
body,  for  educational  purposes,  of  the 
County  Association.  The  Oxford  Diocesan 
Conference,  backed  up  by  the  Archbishop 
of  CANTERBURY,  got  at  the  representatives, 
and  when  the  business  was  concluded,  the 
school  managers,  who  are  all  in  favour  of 
a  County  Association,  found  to  their  pious 
horror  that  their  men  had  voted  for  a 
Diocesan  Association! 

What  the  school  managers  said  when 
they  heard  of  the  success  of  this  archi- 
episcopal  plot  probably  is  not  translatable 
into  Parliamentary  language.  Anyhow, 
WANTAGE,  V.C.,  who  never  served  with 
our  army  in  Flanders,  refrained  from 
quoting  it,  depending  for  effect  upon  the 
simple  narrative  of  Diocesan  Episcopal 
perfidy  here  summarised. 


Speech  brought  up  Bishop  of  OXFORD, 
who  strongly  oojected  to  having  the  little 
performance  "  put  forward  as  an  attempted 
fraud."  WANTAGE,  V.C.,  disclaimed  such 
intention.  Bishop  accepted  disclaimer, 
but,  turning  upon  the  hero  of  Alma  and 
Inkerman,  said  in  plaintive  t ones,  "  But 
why,  my  dear  Lord,  did  you  kick  me 
downstairs?  " 

This  sudden  inquiry  added  infinitely  to 
growing  horror  of  situation.  Lord  SPENCER 
made  haste  to  change  subject  by  disclosing 
similar  clerical  plot  in  Northamptonshire. 
In  the  end,  rising  passion  soothed  by 
speech  from  Duke  of  DEVONSHIRE,  whose 
yawn  (it  being  a  sultry  afternoon)  was  so 
contagious  that  the  Primate,  who  looked 
like  fighting,  dozed  off. 

SARK  hopes  the  incident  will  escape  the 
notice  of  the  gentlemen  who  draw  up  con- 
tents-bills for  evening  papers.  He  remem- 
bers case  in  early  history  of  evening  jour- 
nalism, where  the  town  was  startled  by 
reading  in  largest  type  on  the  bill, 
"CHARGE  OF  INDECENCY  AGAINST  THE 
BISHOP  OF  OXFORD."  It  was  in  Dr.  Wii/- 
HERFORCE'S  time.  SARK,  humbled  and 
horrified,  bought  a  paper.  After  diligent 
search,  found  in  Parliamentary  report  that 
somebody  (he  thinks  it  was  the  Duke  ot 
ARGYLL)  had  in  course  of  debate  spoken  of 
"  the  almost  indecent  warmth "  of  the 
Bishop's  advocacy  of  some  small  matter. 
Here  is  a  double  chance  for  the  lively 
contents-bill.  "CHARGE  OF  FRAUD  AGAINST 
THE  ARCHBISHOP  OF  CANTERBURY  !  "  "  THE 
BISHOP  OF  LONDON  KICKED  DOWNSTAIRS!!" 


36 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  24,  1897. 


Happily,  the  passage  escaped  notice  in 
dangerous  quarters.  But  SAKK  still  shivers 
at  thought  of  peril  passed. 

Dunnes*  done,. — Commons  grubbing  away 
at  Workmen's  Compensation  Bill. 

House  of  Commons,  Tuesday. — Report 
current  that,  before  going  into  Committee 
on  Foreign  Prison-made  Goods,  RITCHIE 
bargained  with  HOWARD  VINCENT  that  he 
was  to  refrain  from  taking  part  in  debate. 
"  We  've  risked  enough,"  President  of 
Board  of  Trade  is  reported  to  have  said, 
"  by  taking  up  this  precious  idea  of  yours, 
and  really  can't  stand  you  prancing  round 
whilst  I  'm  trying  to  shove  the  thing 
through." 

Probably  no  truth  in  the  story.  Cer- 
tainly the  gallant  Colonel  refrained  from 
speaking,  that  is,  from  delivering  ordered 
speech.  Through  frequent  divisions,  his 
voice  was  heard  like  rolling  drums  that 
beat  to  battle  where  he  stands.  Once  he 
cried  out,  "  No !  no  !  "  when  PAKKER  SMITH 
proposed  to  withdraw  an  amendment.  In 
the  main,  he  found  relief  for  overcharged 
feelings  in  muttered  commentary.  Also, 
after  the  manner  of  the  alderman  at  the 
city  banquet  who  stimulated  a  jaded 
appetite  by  taking  a  fresh  chair,  the 
Colonel  was  observed  at  various  stages  of 
the  engagement  reconnoitring  the  enemy 
from  divers  benches. 

Had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  RITCHIE, 
lacking  his  assistance,  get  into  fearful 
muddle  with  Bill.  Debate  throughout 
disclosed  curious  state  of  irritation. 


•. 


Gwyllym  ap  Harcordd,  the  Bard. 
(In  training  for  the  Eisteddfod.) 

Chairman  constantly  on  his  feet  calling 
to  order.  JOHN  BURNS  had  a  round 
with  DON  JOSE.  HALDANE,  lapsing  from 
ordinary  judicial  manner,  publicly  ex- 
pressed his  regret  that  he  was  "not  able 
to  get  an  idea  into  the  head  of  TOM- 
LINSON."  CALDWELL,  proposing  to  sup- 
plement innumerable  speeches  by  LOUGH, 


was  incontinently  howled  down.  The 
WEARISOME  WEIR  expressed  a  wish  that 
RITCHIE  "  would  confine  himself  within 
the  four  walls  of  the  prison,  especially  in 
relation  to  the  manufacture  of  locks." 
What  that  meant  the  Committee  had  not 
the  remotest  idea.  Supposed  in  some 
quarters  that  it  was  a  guarded  reference 
to  the  disease  of  Loucn-jaw,  from  which 
the  Committee  to-night  suffered  in  excep- 
tional degree.  Everyone  grateful  when 
the  Chairman  ruled  the  observation  out  ot 
order.  Seemed  that  at  least  he  under- 
stood it.  Towards  midnight,  PRINCE 
ARTHUR  mercifully  attempted  to  cut 
tangled  skein  by  the  Closure.  But  that 
did  not  carry  Bill  through  Committee. 

"  I  hope  RITCHIE  likes  his  arrange- 
ments," said  HOWARD  VINCENT,  with  a 
gleam  of  malice  in  his  eyes.  "If  he  'd  left 
the  Bill  in  my  charge,  I  would  not  only 
have  got  it  through  Committee  to-night, 
but  would  have  persuaded  House  to  read 
it  a  third  time." 

Jiusinf.ss  done. — Workmen's  Compensa- 
tion Bill  reported. 

Thursday.  —  End  of  session  in  sight. 
PRINCE  ARTHUR  made  customary  declara- 
tion of  Ministerial  intention  with  respect 
to  Bills  still  standing  on  Orders.  Amount 
of  work  that  must  be  done  does  not  pro- 
mise undue  prolongation  of  Session. 

"And  a  very  good  thing,  too,"  said 
SQUIRE  OF  MAI/WOOD.  "I've  got  a  little 
business  on  hand  in  the  autumn,  and  want 
time  for  study.  It 's  the  part  of  the  Bard. 
You  know  I  promised  to  attend  the  Na- 
tional Eisteddfod  of  mv  countrymen,  to 
be  held  at  Newport,  Mon.  When  I  say 
my  countrymen.  I  of  course  speak  in  the 
Gladstonian  or  Homeric  sense.  The  Plnn- 
taeenets  did  not  come  from  Wales.  But 
I  hapnen  to  represent  Monmouthshire.  In 
fact,  I  'm  not  at  all  .sure  whether,  if  I  gave 
my  mind  to  it,  I  might  not,  with  LOULU'S 
heln  (lovely  Bardic  name.  LouLTrt,  trace 
back  my  descent  on  the  distaff  side  from 
TALEISEN.  Not  going  as  far  hack  as  the 
sixth  century,  pausing  in  the  rmrlieus  of 
the  tenth,  we  have  HOWEL  Dmr.  TOM 
ET.T,TS,  M.A.,  a  Welshman  first  and  a 
Whip  afterwards,  tells  me  that  a  literal 
translation  of  that  name,  dear  in  Bardic 
circles,  is  the  Black  Harcourt." 

"  But,"  I  ventured  to  remark,  "  you  're 
not  so  black  as  you  are  sometimes 
painted." 

"I  hope  not,"  said  the  SOUTRE.  with  a 
far-awav  look  in  his  eyes.  "T  T)T\v  hone 
not.  I  confess  I'm  looking  forward  with 
«ome  interest  to  my  new  part.  Am  told  I 
didn't  look  bad  at  Devonshire  House  the 
other  nipht  in  mv  forbear  Chancellor 
HARCOURT'S  eown.  But  for  a  man  of  noble 
mien  and  commanding  figure,  there  is  more 
scone  in  the  habiliments  of  a  Bard." 

As  T  left  the  room,  the  SQUIRE,  nosinp 
in  weird  mnie'tv,  murmured  the  music  of 
a  memorable  Ode:  — 

"  Ruin  seize  thce,  ruthless  PRINCE  ! 
Boast  not  thv  great  mfljori-tee. 
Thmi^n  buoyed  on  Conquest's  crimson  wing, 
My  ARTHUR,  sonn  it  shall  not  be." 

Business  done. — Workmen's  Compensa- 
tion Bill  read  a  third  time. 

Friday. — YERBUHGH  tells  me  no  chance 
of  getting  Government  to  do  anything 
this  Session  in  direction  of  national 
granaries.  YERBURGH  agrees  with  R.  B. 
MARSTON  that  we  are  hastening  to  a  con- 
dition of  starvation.  The  whole  case 
forcibly,  lucidly,  if  not  convincingly,  set 
forth  by  R.  B.  in  his  book,  "  War, 
Famine,  and  our  Food  Supply,"  just 


issued  from  St.  Dunstan's  House.  Not 
often  a  publisher  permits  himself  the 
luxury  of  publishing  one  of  his  own  books. 
R.  B.  M.  gives  himself  and  the  public 
this  pleasure.  A  terrible  prospect,  calcu- 
lated to  cloud  the  sunlight  of  Jubilee  days. 


The  future  Lord  Granaries. 

(Mr.  T-rb-gh.) 

We  are,  it  seerns^  dependent  on  North 
America  and  Russia  for  our  daily  bread. 
United  States  and  Russia  go  to  war  with 
us  ;  stop  supplies  ;  in  a  week  stock  of  corn 
and  flour  in  Great  Britain  exhausted ; 
famine  stalks  through  the  land  ;  supply  of 
plump  young  children  grows  scarce ;  the 
sun  of  England  sets. 

YERBUHGH,  M.P.,  and  MARSTON,  pub- 
lisher, want  ST.  MICHAEL  to  fork  out 
£30,000,000  to  buy  corn,  store  it  up 
against  the  day  when  iniquitous  designs  of 
Russia  and  the  United  States  shall  be 
accomplished.  ST.  MICHAEL  swears  by 
All  Angels  he  will  have  nothing  to  do  with 
the  scheme,  and  on  we  go  to  our  doom ! 

SARK  says  he  once  knew  an  estimable 
gentleman  who  could  not  sleep  o'  nights, 
apprehensive  that  the  Gulf  Stream  would 
cease  to  circulate  round  the  British  Isles. 
In  such  case  we  should  become  even  as 
Iceland.  That  danger  still  exists.  Now, 
poii.r  com.ftfe  dc  malhvur,  famine  stares  us 
in  the  mouth,  so  to  speak.  Life  seems 
hardly  worth  living. 

Business  done. — Supply  in  Committee. 


JULY  31,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


37 


AT    HENLEY.      "  IPSE    DIXIT." 

["  For  a  mile  and  a  half  the  river  wa«  covered  with  elegant  craft,  in  which  youth  was  alw«y»  at  the 
prow  and  pleasure  always  at  the  helm." — Daily  Paper,"] 


BY  THE  GOLDEN  SANDS. 

(Mr.  Punch's  Special  Correspondence.) 

Bournemouth.  —  The     beautiful    bay    is  ' 
studded    with    pleasure    boats,    and    the 
beach  strown  with  bathing  machines.   Six 
thousand  excursionists  visited  the  Winter 
Gardens  to-day,  and  the  price  of  whiskey  j 
has  risen.     Among  the  latest  arrivals  are 
the  Earl  and  Countess  of  FLOUNDER  and 
I, adit's  SOLE,   Sir  REGINALD   RAPPBE,  and 
Baron  BTTNCO  of  New  York. 

Brighton. — A  fresh  breeze  is  blowing  off 
the  land,  and  in  the  midst  of  lovely  sun- 
shine the  pleasure  yachts  are  doing  a  hand- 
some trade.  An  interesting  accident  very 
nearly  occurred  this  morning  to  Miss 
PENELOPE  LIPNECK,  youngest  daughter  ot 
Alderman  Sir  ULYSSES  LIPNECK,  Kt.  The 
young  Indy  in  question  was  fishing  oft 
the  West  Pier  for  crabs,  when  an  enor- 
mous crustacean,  presumably  a  mammoth 
lobster,  seized  the  bait,  and  would  in- 
fallibly have  dragged  the  fair  votary  of 
ISAAC  WALTON  into  a  submarine  grave, 
had  not  Lieutenant  SPARKLETON,  of  the 
23rd  City  of  London  Volunteers  (the  Em- 
press of  CHINA'S  Own  Fallbacks),  gallantly 
cut  the  tackle.  Miss  LIPNECK  happily 
suffered  no  injury  beyond  the  loss  of  ner 
gants  de  suede,  which  were  swept  into  the 

VOL.    OXIII. 


water.  The  musical  attractions  of  this 
Queen  of  watering  places  have  been  mate- 
rially increased  during  the  past  few  days 
by  many  vocal  and  instrumental  artists  of 
both  sexes,  now  on  their  way  to  the  Ducal 
groves  of  Goodwood.  Shrimps  are-  cheaper. 

Cromer. — With  considerable  right,  cer- 
tain of  the  most  influential  towns-folk  have 
resolved  to  bestow  the  title  of  Queen- 
Empress  of  the  East  Coast  upon  this  fa- 
voured resort.  The  influx  or  visitors  is 
not  altogether  dissimilar  from  the  descent 
of  the  Huns  on  the  sunny  plains  of  Italy, 
and  like  the  progression  of  the  barbarians 
of  old,  it  never  ceases.  Last  night  a 
bagatelle  board  was  converted  into  a  bed- 
stead by  a  lady,  who  receives  paying 
guests.  The  bands  are  numerous  and  har- 
monious, and  the  popular  airs  appear  to 
be  "Sweet  Marie"  and  "Beer,  Beer, 
Glorious  Beer!"  Several  large  butterflies 
have  been  caught  on  the  cliffs.  The 
second  cousin  once  removed  of  the  Rajah 
of  BANDICOOT  is  expected  here  next  week. 

Douglas  (Isle  of  Man). — As  usual  in  the 
land  of  the  Deemster,  the  Liverpudlians 
are  flocking  to  recruit  their  jaded  appetites 
with  plenty  of  bracing  pick-me-ups  com- 
pcunded  of  sea-air  and  sea-bathing  in 
equal  proportions.  Some  capital  negro 
minstrels  help  the  general  gaiety  of  the 
scene.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  that 


Sir  WALTER  SCOTT  derived  most  of  the 
inspiration  which  pervades  Peveril  of  the 
I'eak  from  this  hardy  little  island,  enjoy- 
ing the  benefit  of  Home  Rule  denied  to 
her  larger,  but  not  more  important, 
m-igliboura. 

l>,,ii'T. — Nothing  can  be  more  interest- 
ing for  a  visitor  to  watch  than  the  rapid 
progress  now  being  made  on  the  new 
Harbour  Works.  The  driving  of  piles, 
with  the  concomitant  bustle,  is  as  exriting 
as  the  cinematographe,  while  the  arrivals 
at  and  departures  from  the  Admiralty 
Pier  constitute  a  veritable  kaleidoscope  of 
International  indisposition  on  the  narrow 
way.  The  Duchess  of  GORGONZOLA  and 
suite  passed  through  here  on  her  way  to 
Switzerland.  There  have  been  several 
expeditions  by  road  to  St.  Margaret's  Bay, 
whence  the  secrets  of  empires  are  whirled 
over  the  bed  of  the  ocean.  An  officer  of 
nil  -  of  the  Belgian  steam  packets  has  been 
seen  to  order  some  stout  bottled  in  Eng- 
land. Naturally  great  excitement  prevails. 

Eastbourne. — The  trees  are  now  in  full 
leaf,  thanks  to  the  Duke  of  DEVONSHIRE, 
and  what  visitor  in  the  romantic  park 
named  after  his  grace  would  fail  to  main- 
tain that  lawn  tennis  is  the  birthright  of 
every  Eastbcumian  ?  Picnics  on  Beachy 
Head  are  of  daily  occurrence,  and  it  is 
said  that  a  London  glass  merchant  has 
made  a  contract  for  collecting  the  disused 
and  abandoned  bottles.  At  this  time  of 
year  the  coastguards  are  always  in  prime 
condition,  and  old  salts  with  smuggling 
tales  are  at  a  premium.  Owing  to  the 
influence  of  the  aristocracy,  the  sale  of 
winkles  is  not  what  it  might  be,  though 
liberally  supported  by  the  Salvation  Army. 

Folkestone. — A  curious  incident  occurred 
here  last  night.  As  a  gentleman  was  walk- 
ing on  the  Lees,  an  enormous  poodle  dog 
obstructed  his  path,  and  but  for  the 
courage  of  its  owner.  Colonel  WALTER 
WAGTAIL,  would  no  doubt  have  left  its 
mark  upon  the  unfortunate  visitor. 
Happily,  the  catastrophe  was  averted,  and 
supper  at  the  Pavilion  was  the  sequel  ot 
what  might  have  been  a  lamentable  con- 
tretemps. The  boats  to  Boulogne  run  with 
remarkable  regularity,  and  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  passengers  land  has  been  distinctly 
discounted  by  the  fact  that  the  sea  has 
been  remarkably  smooth.  The  Vicomte 
de  NERON.  direct  descendant  of  the  Em- 
perors of  ROME,  has  organised  a  picnic  at 
Caesar's  Cnmp. 

(To  be  continued  in  our  nrxt.) 


FIGS. 

A  no  P    No  thanks  I    Yet  I  will  swear 

That  never  yet  on  any  twig 
Hung  half  so  juicy,  rich  and  rare 
A  fig. 

Twovild  simply  be  a  shame  to  dig 
One's  teeth  into  a  thing  so  fair — 

Besides,  it 's  really  far  too  big ! 
[The  reason,  frankly,  I  forbear 

Is  not  lest  I  should  seem  a  pig, 
But  that  for  figs  I  do  not  care 
Afig.1 

Nor  THB  SORT  OF  FARE  WHICH  AH 
EMINENT  SUBBET  CBICKETEB  is  ABLE  TO 
DIOIST. — A  couple  of  ducks. 

' '  SENDING  THEM  AW  AT  WITH  A  FLEA 
IN  THEIR  EAR." — The  crowding-nut  of  the 
Woman's  Suffrage  Bill  by  the  Verminous 
Persons. 


38 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  31,  1897. 


JULY  31,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


39 


i 


COMFORTING. 

Driver  of  hired  turn-mtt  (toNervmts  Passenger).  "ALL  RIGHT,  SIB  !    You  MUSTN'T  BE  AFRAID.     SHE  DON'T  OFTEN  com  OV«R  BACKWARDS  !  " 


AFTER  THE  PASSAGE  IS  OVER. 

SCENE — An  apartment.     Inmate  discovered  arranging  a  scientific 
apparatus. 

Inmate.  And  now  I  think  everything  is  ready,  and  it's  time 
to  begin.  (A  knock.)  Pray  enter.  (Two  traveller!  appear.) 
Will  you  be  so  kind  as  to  say  whether  you  have  any  cigars  about 
you? 

First  Trav.  (promptly) .  Certainly  not. 

In.  (politely).  Pardon  me,  hut  I  think  you  are  mistaken. 
Allow  me.  (Produces  a  bundle  from  the  inside  pocket  of  the 
First  Traveller's  overcoat.)  And  in  this  parcel  I  fancy  we  shall 
find  six  pounds  of  cigars  I 

First  Trav.  (astonished).  Yes,  you  are  quite  right! 

Second  Trav.  (in  amazement) .  How  wonderful  I 

In.  (turning  to  Second  Trav.).  And  now,  Madam,  will  you  be 
so  good  as  to  disclose  whether  you  have  any  lace  concealed  about 
you? 

Second  Trav.  (indignantly).  Of  course  not  I 

In.  (smiling).  You  are  quite  sure?  Now  I  think,  in  spite  of 
your  assurance,  that  I  shall  be  able  to  discover  some.  With  the 
assistance  of  this  apparatus  I  turn  on  a  ray  of  light — (does  so) — 
and  hi  I  presto  I  there  is  the  lace  pinned  to  your  underskirt  I 

Second  Trav.  (deeply  impressed).  Marvellous! 

First  Trav.  It  is  certainly  very  ingenious.  I  suppose  you 
discovered  the  cigars  and  the  lace  with  the  help  of  the  Rb'ntgen 
rays? 

In.  I  did  ;  and  can  now  tell  you  that  in  the  other  inside  pocket 
you  have  a  bottle  of  Benedictine,  and  a  parcel  containing  five 
thousand  cigarettes. 

.First  Trav.  Quite  right.     Wonderful! 

Second  Trav.  Marvellous!     Are  you  a  conjurer? 

In.  (sternly).  No,  Madam,  someone  more  terrible — a  Custom 
House  officer!  [Scene  closes  in  upon  the  discovery. 


AQUATIC  AND  NEOROLOOIO. — It  seems  fitting  that  the  Wingfield 
Sculls  should  now  have  a  Black-staff e  fitted  to  them. 


LUGGAGE  1  LA  SHAKSPEARE. 

First  Stage.  Bottle,  cradle,  and  christening  robe. 

Second  Stage.  Satchel,  marbles,  and  pound  of  toffy. 

Third  Stage.  Guitar,  short  pipe,  pound  of  tobacco. 

Fourth  Stage.  Sword-coyer,  and  regulation  uniform-case. 

Fifth  Stage.  Bag  and  wig-case. 

Sixth  Stage.  Slippers  and,dressing-gown. 

Seventh  Stage.  Railway-ticket  to  Woking — not  return. 


Civic  INTERNATIONAL  CIVILITIES. — Hope  the  Lord  Mayor  and 
Lady  Mayoress  are  enjoying  themselves  at  Brussels, — "  where  the 
sprouts  come  from,"  as  Mr.  PENLEY  observed,  in  Charley's  Aunt. 
1 11  case  anything  should  be  wanting  at  the  Burgomaster's  table 
(which  is  improbable),  they  take  with  them  their  own  "Savory," 
and  nothing  else,  that  is,  "  K mil  "  besides.  From  the  "  historical 
pageant "  they  may  get  a  hint  or  two  for  the  next  Lord  Mayor's 
show, — in  which,  however,  Sir  FAUDEL  will  take  only  a  modified 
interest. 


The   Brutality  of  Man. 

Sti.is  Emily  (aged  forty,  or  thereabouts,  to  Lord  HARRT 
SHAVER).  Oh !  how  I  should  love  to  be  a  Jubilee  bride  I 

Lord  Harry.  Well,  cheer  up!  You  won't  have  to  wait  very 
long !  

"  DECLINED — WITH  THANKS." — Lord  WANTAGE  has  returned  the 
decoration  recently  conferred  on  him  by  the  SULTAN  for  Red 
Cross  Society  services.  The  SULTAN  will  remember  this  noble- 
man's title  as  "Lord  Don't- Wantage."  His  Lordship  did  not 
consider  the  possession  of  the  Order  as  peculiarly  adwantageous 
to  himself.  

SONG  OF  OMNIBUS  PROPRIETORS  (<M  they  left  the  Court  after  the 
sensible  magisterial  decision  last  Friday,  July  23).—"  We  're  leav- 
ing thee  in  sorrow,  HANNAY  !  " 


40 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  31,  1897. 


"  I  'EAR  THAT  THOLOMON  AEONS  'AS  "AD  'is  SHOP  BURNT  OFT  ! " 
'  WELL,  'K  'TH  A  VERY  GOOD  FELLER,  ARONTH  ITH.     'E  DBTHBRVBS 


IT!' 


AUGUSTE  EN  ANGLETERRE. 
AT  THE  THEATRE. 

DEAR  MISTER, — I  recall  to  me  my  first  visit  to  an  english 
theatre.  In  that  time  there  I  spoke  at  pain  a  hundred  of  words, 
and  by  consequence  I  carried  alldays  a  dictionary  of  pocket  in  the 
which  I  searched  the  translation  of  the  french  phrases.  Happily 
I  had  heard  to  say  that  the  English  go  to  the  theatre  in  great 
holding,  en  grande  tenue,  and  I  carried  my  habit,  all  to  fact  as 
he  must.  I  am  gone  to  a  theatre  where  they  played  an  operette. 
If  I  could  not  to  comprehend  the  words,  I  could  to  hear  the 
music  and  to  regard  the  dances. 

I  part  in  handsome  cab,  and  I  arrive  to  the  theatre.  Since 
that  time  thare  I  have  learnt  that  one  should  alldays  to  retain  a 
place  in  the  principal  theatres,  as  at  Paris,  and  that,  not  as  at 
Paris,  the  location  costs  not  more  dear.  Eh  well,  I  mount  the 
perron,  and,  having  found  the  word  fauteuil  in  my  dictionary,  I 
demand  at  the  guichet,  "  one  armchair  of  orchestra."  The  em- 
ployed responds,  "One  stol."  Une  stalle,  ah  non!  "One  arm- 
chair of  balcony,"  I  say.  And  him  of  to  respond,  et  liti  de 
repondre,  "  Dreseukl."  What  is  this  that  this  is  that  that  P  Pas 
de  fauteuil  d'orchestre,  pas  de  fauteuil  de  balcon.  "  Can  one  to 
have  one  place  in  a  lodge?"  I  demand  to  him.  "A  lodging," 
says  he.  "Yes,"  I  respond  to  him,  "a  lodging."  Sans  aucun 
doute  (a  veut  dire  une  petite  loge.  "No,  Maounsiah,"  responds 
he,  "not  here,  you  must  go  to-morrow  to  a  haoussaigentt." 
"  To-morrow,"  I  say ;  "  but  I  desire  to  see  the  operette  this 
evening !  Give  to  me  then  any  place,  even  a  stall,  if  you  have 
of  her." 

Then  I  pay  ten  shillings  six  pennys — quel  prix  enorme  I — and  I 


resign  myself  to  pass  the  evening  very  squeezed,  serre,  on  a 
bench  all  to  fact  in  arrear  under  the  balcony.  But  a  pretty  little 
female  opener,  ouvreuse,  indicates  to  me  an  excellent  fauteuil 
d'orchestre,  absolutely  at  the  centre,  large  and  comfortable,  where 
I  install  myself  between  two  charming  ladys  in  toilets  of  evening 
of  the  most  elegants.  I  regard  around  and  I  see  partout  some 
adorable  ladya,  aud  not  one  sole  hat.  And  all  the  men  in  habit. 
It  is  an  evening  of  gala  I  Ten  shillings  six  pennys  for  that,  it  is 
nut  too  much  dear,  by  blue  I 

During  the  between-act,  I'entr'acte,  at  Paris  all  the  world  goes 
out.  That  he  makes  hot,  that  he  makes  cold,  what  that  may  be 
who  arrives,  one  quits  his  place,  and  one  walks  himself  in  the 
foyer,  or  in  the  couloirs,  or  in  the  street,  or  one  drinks  a  bock  or 
a  lemon  with  some  water  of  seltz  in  a  cafe  at  side.  As  that  one 
escapes  from  the  suffocating  atmosphere  of  the  parisian  theatre, 
but  at  the  fine  that  becomes  fatiguing,  and  if  the  piece  is  in 
several  acts  and  the  between-acts  drag  in  longness,  trainent  en 
longueur,  one  traverses  some  kilometres  in  marching  of  long  in 
large.  At  London  one  can  to  repose  himself  tranquilly  in  his 
armchair,  if  he  wishes  not  to  smoke  a  cigarette,  or  to  drink  a 
"  wisky "  at  the  english  mode,  in  the  refreshments-room,  that 
which  one  calls  in  french,  "  le  bar."  I  find  that  more  commo- 
dious, plus  commode. 

At  the  fine,  in  going  out  of  the  theatre,  he  falls  of  the  rain, 
that  which  arrives  often  at  London,  sometimes  at  Paris.  Ciel, 
est-on  bou&cule!  I  arrest  myself  at  the  entry,  seeking  a  handsome 
cab,  and  all  these  ladyg,  several  very  fat,  several  of  high  waist, 
de  haute  taille,  march  on  my  foots  without  even  to  demand  par- 
don. And  of  time  in  time  he  arrives  a  mister,  who  crie»,  "  Now 
then,  here  he  is,  come  along !  "  or  an  employed  of  the  theatre,  or 
a  groom  in  a  "  mackintosch  "  all  wetted,  and  then  the  ladys  run 
after,  and  they  march  all  on  my  foots,  jusqui'a  ce  que,  just  to  this 
that  I  succeed  to  obtain  a  cab,  and  to  go  myself  of  it. 

One  other  time  I  go  to  the  Opera,  so  bad  situated  at  the  middle 
of  those  villain  little  streets,  so  dirty,  so  miserable,  and  there 
also  he  falls  of  the  rain,  and  I  attend  all  one  half  hour,  still  more 
shoved,  bouscule,  and  I  part  absolutely  the  last,  at  the  moment 
where  the  employeds  shut  the  doors.  And  that  after  to  have 
paid  twenty  and  one  shillings  I 

The  third  time  I  am  gone  to  see  Sir  IRVING  and  Lady  TBBBT  in 
this  charming  comedy  of  the  illustrious  SHAOKSPIH,  Much  To  Do 
About  Nothing.  I  had  read  her  in  advance  in  french,  and  thus  I 
hoped  to  comprehend  of  her  a  small  little,  aided  by  the  jests, 
gestes,  of  these  artists  so  celebrated.  The  comedy  is  admirable. 
And  what  put  in  scene,  quelle  mise  en  scene!  Swperbe!  I  admire 
much  Lady  TERHT.  She  plays  of  a  fashion  truly  ravishing,  and 
one  can  not  more  gracious.  Sir  IKVINO  is  a  great  artist,  but  I 
comprehend  not  one  sole  word  that  he  says,  for  he  pronounces 
not  the  english  as  the  most  part  of  your  compatriots.  And  what 
of  lively  applauding  I  I  have  heard  to  say  that  the  claqueur 
exists  not  in  England.  That  comprehends  himself  when  aU  the 
assistance  applauds  so  vigourously.  At  the  fine  there  is  so  much 
of  noise  that  Sir  IRVING  is  forced  of  to  make  a  little  discourse.  I 
comprehend  not  one  word,  but  I  suppose  that  he  praya  the 
spectators  of  to  go  themselves  of  it  tranquilly.  More  late  one 
tells  me  that  Sir  IRVING  thanked  the  assistance  and  that  it  is  him 
who  inaugurated  this  mode  of  speaking  at  the  theatre.  What  droll 
of  idea!  Figure  to  yourself,  Mister  Funch,  a  french  actor  making 
a  discourse  on  the  scene !  Agree,  &c.,  AUGUSTE. 


JEAN  INGELOW. 
Born  at  Boston,  Lincolnshire,  1820.     Died  at  Kensington,  1897. 

SWEET  is  the  perfume  of  a  perfect  life ! 

Dear  is  the  incense  of  a  noble  name  ; 
Happy  the  ear  removed  from  worldly  strife, 

That  only  hears  the  echo  of  the  voice's  fame. 
JEAN  INGELOW!  these  attributes  were  yours, 

Sweet  songstress !  gifted  mistress  of  the  pen ! 
You  sang  of  Hope  that  still  for  us  endures, 

And  weaved  your  lyrics  from  the  lives  of  Men. 

You  told  of  what  has  been,  and  what,  perchance,  might  be, 
You  held  the  banner  of  the  Great  Good  Right, 

And  so  across  the  unknown  silent  Silver  Sea 

We  bid  "  Good  morn  "  in  faith  to  your  "  Good  night." 


At  Goodwood. 


He.  Did  you  say,  put  a  fiver  on  Ugly  for  the  Cup  ? 
She.  Yes ;  but  please  be  sure  and  see  that  Sir  HENRY  HAWKINS 
isn't  in  the  ring,  or  we  may  be  committed  for  contempt  of  court  I 


JULY  31,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


41 


THERE   AND   BACK  WITH   A  CARD. 

DUKINO  a  delightfully  refreshing  Saturday-to-Monday  outing 
at  our  dear  (in  one  sense,  but  reasonable  in  an  argument  um- 
ad-pocketum  sense)  old  friend  Boulogne-sur-Mer,  there  came 
into  our  possession  a  card  directing  our  attention  to  the  South 
Eastern  Hotel,  formerly  H6tel  /.eelaud,  where,  judging  from  the 
truly  alfream  Parisian  style  and  appearance  of  its  Restauratiou 
in  full  view  of  everything  that  is  going  on,  including  the  easy 
travelling  trains,  in  Boulogne,  it  ought  to  be  all  that  any 
traveller's  fancy  could  paint  it  in  two  coats  of  paint,  inside  and 
out,  especially  as  its  manager  is  Monsieur  U.  FABESCH,  late  of 
the  liotel  Continental,  Paris,  whom,  personally,  the  present  de- 
ponent knoweth  not  from  Mons.  ADAM  du  Jardin  de  Paradis, 
— which  is  simply  Paris  "  writ  large," — though  he  has  a  pleasant 
recollection  of  the  aforesaid  Parisian  Hotel.  But  it  ia  Manager 
FABESCH'S  card  that  will  delight  the  idler  who  has  absolutely 
nothing  to  do,  after  a  quite  perfect  "  breakfast  at  the  fork, 
or,  as  this  can't  be  provided  for  a  mere  song  let  us  term  it 
"breakfast  at  the  fork-out,"  in  the  airy  little  "  Caff  Restaurant 
Gamier,  Pare  anx  huitres,"  on  the  Jetee,  except  to  lazily  smoke 
the  soothing  cigar,  dawdle  with  the  fragrant  coffee  and  its  ac- 
companying chaise,  and,  when  not  gazing  on  the  merry  bathers, 
to  peruse  the  literature  provided  by  the  aforementioned  card.  It 
speaks  as  excellent  English  as  THACKERAY'S  English  hero  did 
French,  when,  in  answer  to  the  inquiry ' '  Qui  va  to  ?  "  he, "  knowing 
the  language  "  answered  "Jel"  The  card  announces  how  "  The 
8.E.  Hotel  Co.,  L.D.,  London,  hat  purchased  a  grand  tite  opposite  the 
Casino  and  the  sea  for  the  purpose  of  building  a,  Magnificent  Hotel 
(400  Rooms),  but  during  this  Season  (1897)  they  ave  decided  to  open 
the  existing  buildings,  which  will  a  commodate  about  IQOyuett^- 

May  we  be  among  those  future  "  guett "  whom  this  hotel  is  to 
"a  commodate."  To  culinary  connoisseurs  there  are  just  two 
places  on  the  Continong  that  may  rival  each  other  in  s>  reputa- 
tion for  cuisine,  namely,  the  Bestauratiou  at  the  Gare  Maritime, 
Calais,  and  this  "  Pare  aux  huitres,"  B'logne,  which  is  not  to  be 
excelled,  go  where  you  will,  except,  perhaps — but  that  it  is  a  bit 
too  far  from  England  merely  for  a  breakfast — at  Monte  Carlo. 

Mr.  Punch's  special  traveller  in  the  Dejeunering  business 
always  likes  to  do  a  good  turn  to  all  who  deserve  to  benefit  by  a 
brief  holiday,  and  now,  when  the  weather  is  tropical,  and  the  sea 
absolutely  calm,  being  fearful  of  moving  violently  lest  it  should 
get  too  hot,  now  is  the  time  for  the  oiler  et  retour  !  to  Calais  and 
back,  to  Boulogne  and  back  !  ft  voild  tout .' 

EXPERIENCES  OF  AN  EARL'S-COURTIER. 

So  hot  and  fine  to-day  that  I  feel  disinclined  to  work  at  my 
History  of  English  Civilization.  Happy  thought ;  why  not  visit 
the  "Victorian  Era"  Show  at  Earl's  Court t  I  shall  doubtless 
collect  valuable  material  there  for  my  book,  especially  if  I  go  not 
in  the  frivolous  spirit  of  a  mere  holiday-maker,  but  in  the  rever- 
ent mood  of  the  anxious  seeker  after  knowledge.  Having  pro- 
vided myself  with  a  large  note-book,  I  start. 

Numbers  of  people  passing  through  turnstiles ;  it  is  delightful 
to  see  how  widespread  is  the  desire  to  learn  as  much  as  possible 
about  our  national  progress.  First  of  all  I  meet  some  steam- 
engines  and  a  large  number  of  curious  contrivances  which  are 
not,  as  I  at  first  supposed,  gigantic  sewing-machines,  but  are 
electrical  appliances  of  some  land.  Wish  I  knew  more  about 
them ;  note  them  down  for  special  study  at  a  future  date.  Pass 
on,  and  discover  women  making  tin  match-boxes.  Strange,  I 
never  realised  before  how  much  the  greatness  of  England  de- 
pended upon  the  manufacture  of  these  articles.  Mustn't  forget  to 
mention  tin  match-boxes  in  my  chapter  on  commercial  progress. 
Other  people  are  cooking  sweets  and  polishing  imitation  dia- 
monds. This  last  exhibit  is  doubtless  a  satire  upon  modern 
hypocrisy.  But  I  notice  they  are  called  "  Parisian  Diamond*," 
and  wonder  vaguely  how  they  illustrate  the  progress  of  the 
British  nation.  Now,  as  it  is  very  hot  here,  I  will  sit  down  in 
the  garden  and  write  down  the  results  of  my  observations  thus 
far.  Having  done  so,  turn  towards  the  Panorama,  where  I 
doubtless  shall  find  a  vivid  presentment  of  some  eventful  scene 
in  our  national  history.  .  .  .  Rather  to  my  surprise,  it  proves  to 
be  an  excellent  picture  of  Ancient  Rome.  Am  not  quite  certain 
at  present  what  it  has  to  do  with  the  Victorian  Era,  but  doubt- 
less this  is  owing  to  my  own  stupidity.  Next  visit  the  "  Living 
Photographs."  Having  waited  about  quarter  of  an  hour  in 
solemn  silence,  the  showman  takes  pity  on  us  at  last.  Must 
work  the  pictures  of  ballet-dancers  into  my  chapter  on  "  National 


—  s r~ 

*  £ 


AN    INFORMAL    INTRODUCTION. 

Polite  Little  GHrl  (ruddenly).   "THIS  is   MY  MAMMA,   SIR.     WILL 

YOU   PLKASB   SlJiO    HBR,    '  IT'S  TBS  SfASOWllfO    WOT  DOtS  IT!'" 


Recreations."  But  I  don't  quite  see  how  I  am  to  deal  with  the 
circus  and  the  marionettes,  so  I  won't  visit  those  attractions  at 
present.  Might  connect  the  great  wheel,  somehow,  in  a  foot- 
note, with  th«  Revolution  of  Tune.  Doubtless  those  people  who 
are  going  up  and  down  on  the  switchback  find  that  this  helps 
them  to  realise  the  greatness  of  England,  especially  as  the  switch- 
back is  an  American  invention. 

Passing  again  into  the  building,  I  find  myself  in  a  model 
hospital  ward.  Very  interesting.  Pathetic  wax  dolls  repose  in 
cots,  and  are  supposed  to  be  suffering  from  various  unpleasant 
diseases.  And  their  beautiful  complexions,  which  no  doubt  are 
exactly  copied  from  life,  testify  in  a  very  striking  way  to  the 
progress  of  medical  science.  I  feel  sure  that  sixty  years  ago 
sufferers  from  diphtheria  hadn't  such  rosy  cheeks.  By  the  side 
of  one  of  the  cots  is  a  splendid  model  of  a  nurse,  really  most 
life-like.  I  wonder  if  the  wax  it  is  made  of  is  very  hard.  Pinch 
its  cheek  to  see,  when,  to  my  astonishment  and  horror,  it  proves 
to  be  not  a  wax  model  like  the  rest,  but  a  real,  live,  and  Justly 
indignant  hospital  nurse.  I  endeavour  to  explain  my  mistake, 
and  retreat  hastily.  Visit  the  "  Sporting  Section,"  which  seems 
to  be  very  popular.  Crowds  of  people  are  gazing  with  intense 
reverence  at  a  row  of  shapeless  cricket-balls,  which,  it  seems, 
have  been  used  in  important  matches. 

Proceed  through  many  other  galleries,  and  inspect  an  excellent 
collection  of  pictures.  Then  I  return  to  the  garden,  sit  and 
listen  to  the  band,  and  drink  tea.  The  buns  which  accompany  it 
are  interesting  relics,  and  were  evidently  baked  (though  the 
official  guide  omits  to  mention  this)  at  the  time  of  Her  MAJESTY'S 
accession.  Afterwards,  feel  disinclined  for  exertion,  and  refuse 
to  join  the  unhappy-looking  gentlemen  who,  clad  in  top^-hats  and 
frock-coats,  are  being  jolted  round  on  elephants.  I  visit  "  Old 
London,"  and  learn,  for  the  first  time,  that,  sixty  years  ago,  it 
was  paved  entirely  with  cobble-stones. 

Altogether,  an  excellent  show,  but  somehow  I  have  not  learnt 
quite  as  much  as  I  had  expected  from  it  about  the  national 
progress  of  England  during  the  last  sixty  years  I 

FBOM  THK  IRRBPHBSSIBLB  ONB  (dodying). — Q.  What  is  the 
meaning  of  the  United  States  bawl  ?  A.  Bounce  I 


42 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  31,  1897. 


X 


Friend  (to  Afinor  Railway  Official  at  Provincial  Station).  "'ULLO,  COCKY,  WHERE  'AVI  YOU 

BEEN   ALL  THIS  TIME  1  " 

Minor  B.  0.  (with  dignity).  "OH,  I  'AD  TO  GO  trp  ON  DUTY  FOR  THE  NAVAL  REVIEW  AT 
SPIT'EAD,  I  'AD."  Friend  (impressed).  "An!  FINE  SIGHT  I  EXPECT  IT  WUR?" 

Minor  E.  0.  "  WELL,  I  CAN'T  SAY  AS  I  SAW  xuca  or  IT.  I  WAR  A  TAKING  THE 
TICKETS  AT  VAUX'ALL!" 


THE  DELIVERANCE  OF  DOROTHEA. 

(A  Fragment  of  an  Up-to-date  Romance.) 
CHAPTER  XL. 

FAIR  shone  the  evening  sun  upon  the 
lists  of  Bunkum  Castle,  fairest  upon  the 
noble  features  of  Sir  HUBERT  DB  MONT- 
MOEENCY,  as,  with  a  deft  movement  of  the 
lever,  he  caused  his  gallant  motor-car  to 
caracole  nimbly  in  the  midst  of  the  arena, 
throughout  the  afternoon  had  he  ridden 
in  the  gymkhana,  and  with  such  success 
that  towards  the  close  not  one  of  the 
onlookers  had  dared  to  venture  a  ducat 
against  his  chances,  partly  because  his  vic- 
tory seemed  assured,  and  partly  because  it 
was  doubtful  whether  the  lists  of  Bunkum 
were  not  a  "  place  "  within  the  meaning  of 
the  Act,  and  the  rumour  was  freely  bruited 
that  more  than  one  member  of  the  Anti- 
Gambling  League  was  present  in  disguise. 

Skilfully  did  Sir  HUBERT  apply  the  brake 
and  bring  his  car  to  a  standstill  before  the 
Marquis  of  BUNKUM'S  seat. 

"  Sir,"  he  said,  his  features  glistening 


with  petroleum  and  the  glow  of  victory, 

"having  conquered   in  all   the   motor-car 

contests,  I  come,  in  accord  with  the  best 

precedents,    to    claim   the   hand   of   your 

!  daughter,     the     lovely    Lady     DOROTHEA 

|  FLAPDOODLE." 

"  Gadzooks  I  "  answered  the  Marquis, 
angrily,  "  you  may  claim  as  much  as  you 
please,  but  you  're  not  going  to  have  her." 

"  What  ?  "  cried  Sir  HUBERT. 

"  Sir,"  answered  the  other,  "  you  told 
mo  the  other  day  to  buy  shares  in  '•-he 
Abracadabra  Gold  Mines.  And  by  this 
evening's  paper  I  see  that  the  company  is 
in  liquidat;on ! " 

"Tis  false  I"  shouted  Sir  HUBERT. 
"  That  paragraph  is  the  work  of  that  sorry 
scoundrel,  Sir  MIDAS  PLUTOCRAT — 

"Who  is  about  to  become  my  »on-in- 
law,"  said  the  Marquis  of  BUNKUM,  with  a 
cruel  smile.  "  I  have  already  despatched 
the  Lady  DOROTHEA  to  London,  and  she  is 
to  marry  him  to-morrow !  " 

"But — but,"  said  Sir  HUBERT,  agha»t, 
"he  is  already  married!" 

"What  of  that?    This  very  evening  he 


is  to  entice  his  present  wife  into  the  lethal 
chamber  at  Battersea,  and  to-morrow  he 
will  marry " 

But  Sir  HUBERT  had  turned  the  lever  of 
his  motor-car  to  full  speed  a-head. 

"Stop  him  I"  cried  the  Marquis,  "stop 
him  I  Prosecute  him  with  the  utmost 
rigour  of  the  law  I  He  is  exceeding  the 
rate  of  80  miles  an  hour  1 " 

But  the  gallant  young  knight  had  dis- 
appeared in  the  distance. 

CHAPTER  XLI. 

Alas]  Sir  HUBERT  had  been  too  impa- 
tient in  his  flight.  Scarcely  had  he 
travelled  ten  miles  on  his  way,  when  his 
supply  of  oil  gave  out,  and  his  motor-car 
came  to  a  standstill.  Leaping  down  from 
his  engine,  he  knocked  at  the  door  of  tlie 
nearest  cottage,  to  see  whether  he  could 
borrow  some  petroleum.  The  door  was 
opened,  and,  to  his  amazement,  before 
him  stood  the  Lady  DOROTHEA  ! 

"  My  HUBERT  ! "  she  exclaimed  ;  and 
rushed  into  his  arms.  Then  she  explained 
that,  suspecting  her  father's  design  in 
sending  her  to  London,  she  had  quitted 
the  train  on  the  first  opportunity,  and  had 
taken  refuge  in  this  cottage. 

"  Then  we  will  fly  together,  my  love  I  " 
said  HUBERT. 

"Hark!"  quoth  DOROTHEA,  growing 
deadly  pale.  "What  is  that?" 

They  listened  in  silence,  and  heard  the 
dreadful  baying  of  bloodhounds! 

"  Alack  I  said  DOROTHEA  ;  "  my  father 
has  taken  a  hint  from  one  of  Dr.  CONAN 
DOYLE'S  romances,  and  means  to  destroy 
us  by  these  fearsome  beasts !  " 

Scarcely  had  she  spoken,  when  two  enor- 
mous hounds  came  bounding  round  the 
corner.  But  a  stalwart  figure  stepped  in 
the  road,  pulled  a  pistol  from  his  pocket, 
and — crack  I  crack! — the  beasts  lay  dead 
almost  at  their  feet  1 

"Noble  hero!"  exclaimed  Sir  HUBEKT, 
rapturously,  to  the  stranger.  "  How  can 
I  thank  you?" 

"  County  Council's  orders,"  explained  the 
unknown,  who  proved,  indeed,  to  be  the 
village  policeman.  No  dogs  allowed 
without  muzzles  nowadays." 

"  Heaven  reward  the  County  Council !  " 
exclaimed  Sir  HUBERT.  "Having  got 
some  more  petroleum,  let  us  fly  to  my  own 
castle." 

Hardly  had  they  started  when  the  shriek 
of  a  steam  whistle  sounded  close  at  hand, 
and  both  turned  in  terror. 

"  'Tis  my  father ! "  cried  Lady  DOROTHEA. 
"  "Pis  my  father  pursuing  us  on  his 
steam  motor-car!  lull  spead  a-head,  my 
HUBERT  I " 

And  by  this  time  they  could  clearly  see 
the  Marquis  of  BUNKUM,  as,  seated  tightly 
upon  the  safety-valve  of  his  engine,  he 
drew  nearer  and  nearer. 

But  Sir  HUBERT'S  gallant  motor-car  was 
not  beaten  yet.  Indeed,  it  flew  like  light- 
ning, leaping,  rather  than  running,  along 
the  road  at  a  fearful  speed.  Yet  the  steam- 
engine  still  gained  upon  them  until — 

Suddenly  there  was  a  fearful  explosion  I 
Fragments  of  iron,  wood,  and  the  Marquis 
of  BUNKUM,  darkened  the  air !  His  boiler 
had  exploded. 

Sir  HUBERT  folded  the  sobbing  DORO- 
THEA in  his  arms. 

"  Weep  not,"  he  said.  "  We  are  safe, 
and  your  father  is  dead.  So  perish  all 
those  who  sit  upon  the  safety-valve  1  Now 
will  we  go  and  be  married." 

And  he  pointed  the  head  of  his  motor- 
car straight  for  St.  George's,  Hanover 
Square. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— JOLT  31.  1897. 


Jt 


THE    "TRICKSY    SPIRIT"! 


Ferdinand    ....    L-RD  S-L-SB-RY. 


Arid    .    .    .    .    ET.  HON.  J.  CH-MB-RL-W. 


FERDINAND  (L-rd  S-l-sb-ry).  "WHERE  SHOULD  THIS  MUSIC  BE  ******    I  HAVE  FOLLOW'D 

IT,   OR  IT  HATH  DRAWN  ME— RATHER." 

The  Tempest,  Act  I.,  So.  2. 


JULY  31,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


45 


Mrs.  Newealth,  "AND  HOW  is  MY  DAUOHTSR  OKTTINO  ON  WITH  HER  Music,  PROFESSOR!" 
Professor  Da,  Capo.    "REMARKABLY  WILL.     THE  ONLY  DIFFICULTY  I  FIND  H  IN  MAKING 

HER  OBSERVE  THE  BESTS  !  " 

Mrs.  Newealth.  "On,  BUT  SHI  Jfosr.     SHE  HAS  PLENTY  OF  TIMI!" 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Cricketer,  repulsed  in  his  advances  to  a  Widow 
—relict  of  a  wine-bibber — retorts  in  forcible 
tones. 

"  THE  King  is  dead !    Long  live  the  King  I  " 

That  is  the  moral  of  your  plan. 
"  Old  Time  is  on  the  wing,"  you  sing ; 

You  only  need  but  one — the  Man 
Who,  thinking  you  the  Queen  of  Earth, 

All  beatific  and  all  sweet. 
Will  gown  you  as  a  dame  of  Worth, 

And  doglike  Yapp  about  your  feet. 

This  slave,  of  course,  you  may  not  love, 

But  judge  his  sense  by  welcome  deeds, 
And  coo  like  any  turtle  dove 

Amid  the  desert  of  your  weeds. 
You  'd  test  his  ardour,  did  he  own 

The  wherewithal  to  make  a  match  ; 
But,  failing  that,  you  'd  field  alone, 

No  " butter-fingeri "  at  a  catch! 

Your  innings  first  was  all  too  short — 

A  little  over  one  long  year — 
Your  Late  Lamented,  bowled  by  port, 

Enjoys  another  atmosphere. 
He,  knowing  not  the  joyous  shout 

That  would  his  disappearance  greet, 
Left  you  with  thousands  still  "not  out," 

Another  partner  here  to  meet. 


I  wished  that  partner  I  could  be, 

Before  you  sold  yourself  for  pelf ; 
I  had  not  got  the  £  .1.  d., 

You  only  batted  for  yourself  I 
And  now  "  not  out "  you  will  not  wear 

The  colours  that  you  sadly  lack. 
Keep  up  your  wicket  1    I  don't  care 

If  your  life-score  i*  framed  in  black! 


DARBY  JONES  ON  GOODWOOD. 

WB  all  know,  honoured  Sir,  the  rap- 
turous, not  to  say  frivolous,  feelings  with 
which  the  Troubadour  wag  inspired  as  he 
returned  after  his  trip  (doubtless  under 
the  conduct  of  the  antique  COOK  or  GAZE) 
to  Jerusalem  and  Joppa,  carrying  the 
banjo  of  the  period.  In  similar  tempera- 
ment, the  Bard  and  Vates  combined  jour- 
neys to  the  resplendent  Park,  wherein, 
for  a  considerable  consideration,  his  Grace 
the  Duke  of  RICHMOND  and  GORDON  per- 
mits the  members  of  the  General  Public 
("  our  Follies,"  as  I  once  heard  a  Greek 
scholar  describe  them)  to  assemble  on  that 
upland  course  which  contributes  so  richly 
to  the  prosperity  of  the  lowlanders  of 
Chichester.  I  look  upon  the  Goodwood 
Meeting,  Sir,  as  the  final  picnic  of  the 
London  season,  where  wearied  Duchesses 
and  fatigued  Countesses  can  regale  them- 


selves under  the  trees  on  viands  not  to  be 
despised  by  those  Sybarites  of  whom  we 
read  at  Free  Libraries,  in  works  descrip- 
tive of  classic  times.  I  know  nothing  so 
pleasant  as  a  lunch  beneath  those  beeches. 
I  believe  them  to  be  of  that  order  of  trees 
which  in  fair  sunshine  convert  the  hillside 
into  an  aristocratic  Ruaherville  Gardens. 
The  mayonnaise,  be  it  of  salmon,  lobster, 
or  the  more  modest  crab,  gathered  from 
the  tanks  of  Humble  by  Southampton 
\VatiT,  seems  to  have  a  succulence  denied 
to  the  crustaceans  to  be  found  in  the 
shell-fish  marts  of  our  Great  Metropolis, 
while  the  vintage  of  champagne  cools  the 
gullet  with  an  extra  sparkle  of  satisfaction. 
Perhaps  this  jubilation  of  Food  may  be 
accounted  for  by  the  brilliant  costumes 
with  which  it  is  surrounded.  Lovely  in- 
deed is  this  parterre  (I  trust  I  have  spelt 
the  word  rignt)  of  fair  women  arrayed  in 
garments  which  even  the  Queen  of  SHKBA, 
ou  her  celebrated  visit  to  the  Emperor  of 
ISRAEL,  could  not  have  rivalled.  A  Lovely 
Lady  whom  I  once  knew  used  to  regret 
that  her  sex  was  not,  like  the  jockeys, 
accommodated  with  an  apartment  wherein 
to  change  apparel.  She  assured  me  that 
if  any  great  milliner  could  contract  for 
such  a  room,  the  metamorphoses  would 
exceed  in  one  day  at  Goodwood  those 
chronicled  by  the  Poet  OVID.  I  quite 
believe  her,  and  so,  no  doubt,  do  you,  Sir. 
At  the  same  time,  it  is  only  right  to 
record  that,  despite  Royal  and  Ducal  sur- 
roundings, Goodwood  is  frequented  by 
bands  or  the  most  unscrupulous  brigands 
ever  permitted  to  exercise  an  illegitimate 
calling.  I  am  not  squeamish,  and  am  well- 
known  at  Scotland  Yard,  but  I  do  aver, 
and  with  feeling  (for  was  I  not  three  years 
ago  relieved,  noleni  volens  (Latin  Dictionary 
again),  of  thirty-two  glittering  spondulicks 
in  a  canvas  bag  just  opposite  the  Grand 
Stand  P),  that  the  modest  Waterbury 
watch  is  not  free  from  molestation  either 
on  the  Ducal  drives  or  in  the  High  Street 
of  the  Cathedral  Town. 

But  away  with  melancholy!  Let  us  to 
the  top  of  the  cue.  Your  tipster  sings, 
after  depriving  him  of  declaring  that  cer- 
tainty which  he  wired  yon  for  the  Stewards' 
Cup":  — 

Look  out  for  the  Cape  that  owni  a  Saint, 

Look  out  for  the  Martian  Field, 
Don't  think  of  another  Sitter'i  feint 

With  a  MILLER,  who  cannot  vield. 
A  DCKB  and  an  KARL  will  lurely  score, 

And  the  U  F.IK  APPARENT  shine; 
While  the  Upper  Crust  U  brought  to  Rtat, 

And  Pretty  Hilt  Fanny  U  mine ! 

Trusting  to  meet  you  amid  the  Blaze  of 
Rank  and  Fashion  with  which  you  corrus- 
cate,  I  am,  as  always. 

Your  humble  henchman, 

DAUY  JONBS. 
[We  never  received  »ny  menage  from  D.  J.— ED.] 


A  LONDON  EOUNDEL. 

IN  summer  set,  the  meadows  gay 
Will  smile  for  you  a  little  yet, 
While  suns  with  glorious  westering  ray 
In  summer  set. 

The  joys  which  sunlit  fields  beget, 
The  hay-making,  half  toil,  half  play, 

The  music  made  when  scythes  are  whet, 
The  scented  swathes  of  new-mown  hay, 

Inspire  in  me  one  fond  regret — 
I  would  that  I  were  down  to-day 
In  Somerset  1 


A  VCLQAB  TONIC. — Geat-Un. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JOLT  31,  1897. 


"PLEASE,  SIB,  WILL  YOU  OPEN  THB  GATE  FOK  MB?" 
Short-sighted  Old,  Gent.    "WHY,    MY   LITTLE  GIRL,   YOU  CAN 

OPEN   IT  FOR   YOURSELF  !  " 

Lizzy.  "  OH,  PLEASE  SIR,  no  OPEN  IT." 


Short-sighted  Old  Gent.    "VERY   WELL.     THERE! 
ME  WHY  YOU  COULDN'T  OPEN  IT  FOE  YOURSELF." 
Lizzy.  "PLEASE,  SIR,  "CAUSE  THE  PAINT  's  WET  !" 


Now  TELL 


CONFESSIONS. 

FOB  you  my  cudgelled  brains  have  made 
Not  unreluctant  album-rhymes, 

For  you  Dumb  Crambo  I  have  played — 
Grotesque  impromptu  pantomimes. 

Blindfold  for  you  the  unerring  pig 
I've  drawn  with  eminent  success — 

My  latest  task  is  just  as  big, 

I  must  confess  1 

You  come  to  me  with  book  in  hand, 
And  first  upon  the  open  page, 

Obedient  to  your  command, 

I  meekly  write  my  name  and  age. 

Next,  answer  all  these  questions,  ehP 
By  Jove,  I  'm  in  a  pretty  mess ! 

My  inmost  thoughts  and  tastes,  you  say, 
I  must  confess  I 

What  are  my  favourite  Christian  names  ? 

At  any  rate,  I  '11  answer  that ; 
Though  Rhyme,  perhaps,  might  point  to 

JAMKS, 

Reason  approves  JEHOSHAPHAT. 
And  as  for  girls — sweet  names  abound, 

As  SARAH,  JANE,  JEMIMA,  BESS, 
Yet  'LizKR  has  a  winsome  sound, 
I  must  confess  I 

My  favourite  book?    That's  rather  hard. 

One  might  put  first  some  three  or  four- 
Old  FHOISSAKT,  or  the  Immortal  Bard, 

Or  Mr.  Sponge's  Sporting  Tour. 
But  since  there 's  only  in  the  pack 

One  ace  of  trumps,  the  claim*  I  press 
Of  WHITAKEB,  his  Almanack, 

I  must  confess  1 

The  colour  I  love  best — is  blue, 
The  colour  of  your  eyes,  I  think — 


Which  leads  appropriately  to 

The  question  next,  my  favourite  drink? 
"Pis  not  distilled  from  vine  or  hops, 

I  drink,  I  trust  without  excess, 
The  mild,  exhilarating  "Kops," 

I  must  confess  I 

My  favourite  game — is  grouse.     You  scoff, 
How  greedy  of  me  ?    Ah,  I  see ! 

The  other  sort  of  game — say,  golf. 

And  sport  ?    Well,  ratting  does  for  me  ! 

What  quality  I  most  admire  ? 
In  lovely  woman — fickleness, 

In  man — for  wealth  a  high  desire, 
I  must  confess ! 

Pet  hobby  P    That  should  be  a  hawk— 

I  speak  but  as  a  naturalist — 
What  nonsense,  do  you  say,  I  talk  ? 

Well,  there,  it's — stamps,  if  you  insist. 
One  last  confession  now  for  you, 

What  I  have  written,  more  or  less, 
Is  not  conspicuously  true, 

I  must  confess! 


THE  STALL  MENDICANT'S  VADE  MEGUM. 

Question.  Is  not  a  Stall  Mendicant  a 
lady  who  stands  with  a  money  box  at 
street  corners  petitioning  for  alms  ? 

Answer.  Certainly;  but  the  accessories 
to  her  calling — a  rug,  a  chair,  a  table,  and 
a  placard — must  not  be  overlooked  in  the 
full  description. 

Q.  What  is  the  object  of  the  Stall  Men- 
dicant in  rattling  her  money  box  ? 

A.  To  attract  the  attention  of  the  busily 
employed  to  the  claim*  of  the  charity  dis- 
played on  her  placard. 


Q.  Is  the  character  of  the  charity  thus 
displayed  of  any  great  importance  ? 

A.  It  is  not,  if  care  is  taken  that  it 
bears  reference  to  either  the  sick  or  the 
young. 

Q.  What  is  the  customary  age  of  the 
Stall  Mendicant? 

A.  usually  that  classified  "uncertain," 
because  it  is  certain  to  be  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  forty. 

Q.  But  is  not  the  Stall  Mendicant  some- 
times of  tender  years? 

A.  Occasionally ;  and  this  species  is 
particularly  irritating  to  old  gentlemen 
hurrying  to  catch  a  train. 

Q.  Then  the  Stall  Mendicant  can  cause 
irritation  P 

A.  Assuredly ;  for  her  importunities  are 
frequently  unwelcomely  familiar,  and 
chronically  out  of  place. 

Q.  Are  the  Stall  Mendicants  of  comely 
appearance  ? 

A.  Rarely.  As  a  rule  the  Stall  Mendi- 
cant is  a  spinster  who  has  long  ceased  to 
attract  by  either  charm  of  manner  or 
beauty  of  form  or  face. 

Q.  What  is  the  excuse  for  the  Stall 
Mendicant's  importunities  ? 

A.  Charity,  which  in  her  case  is  required 
to  cover,  if  not  a  sin,  at  least  a  nuisance. 

Q.  Can  you  think  of  any  benefit  that 
springs  from  the  existence  of  Stall  Mendi- 
cants ? 

A.  It  is  possible  they  may  be  a  blessing 
in  disguise  to  the  editors  of  daily  papers. 

Q.  In  what  way? 

A.  By  causing  the  infuriated  public  to 
write  letters  of  complaint  adapted  for  in- 
sertion during  the  silly  teason. 


JULY  31,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


47 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  PROM  THE  DIAHV  or  TOBY,  M.P. 


nf  Cninmnnx,  Monday,  July  19. 
—  Often  hoard  of  "  dragging  red  herring 
across  path."  Never  before  to-night 
witnessed  performance.  Proceeding  most 
effective.  It  was  a  Scotch  herring, 
and  the  draughtsman  was  the  WEARIBOMK 
WEIR. 

House  in  Committee  of  Supply  ;  Foreign 
vote  on  ;  for  weeks  and  months  the  SQUIRE 
OF  MALWOOD,  reminiscent  of  an  earlier 
statesman,  had  been  publicly  "longing  to 
be  at  'em  !  "  PRINCE  ARTHUR,  with  his 
sword  drawn,  stood  waiting  for  the  man 
of  brawn.  Now  the  lists  were  open  ; 
trumpets  brayed  ;  swords  flashed  ;  the 
tourney  had  commenced.  Proved  an  ex- 
ceedingly tame  affair.  SQUIBB  seemed  to 
have  exhausted  all  his  ardour  in  anticipa- 
tion. Mindful  of  one  of  highest  traditions 
of  British  statesmanship,  he  would  not 
embarrass  Her  MAJESTY  8  Government  on 
questions  of  Foreign  policy.  Only  wanted 
to  know,  you  know,  just  as  much  as  it 
would  be  convenient  to  tell. 

GEORGE  CURZON  told  as  little  as  possible 
in  speech  of  half  hour's  duration.  Then 
Members  went  off  at  a  tangent  all  over 
world  from  Madagascar  to  the  Mediterra- 
nean, from  Cephalonia  to  Cyprus,  from 
Trichinopoly  to  the  Transvaal.  ERNEST 
BECKETT,  dropping  in  on  the  Sandwich 
Islands,  told  interesting  story  of  mission- 
ary enterprise.  These  good  men,  hailing 
from  United  States,  have,  he  averred,  de- 
posed QUEEN  ;  established  a  standing 
army  ;  compelled  everyone  to  go  to 
church  ;  made  sleepiness  through  the 
sermon  a  high  crime  and  misdemeanour  ; 
denounced  dancing  as  the  unpardonable 
sin. 

BECKETT'S  weird  story  illustrated  by  un- 
canny effects.  As  he  spoke  the  lightning 
flashed;  the  thunder  rolled;  the  lashing 
rain  was  heard  through  open  windows 
falling  on  the  courtyard  outside.  The 
start  li-d  House,  attuned  to  solemn  mood, 


The  Wearisome  (hit.  "Man,  it's  gettin'  pair- 
fecklj-  awfu' !  I  merely  rriae  tae  ventillate  the 
Scottish herrrin',  when,  ye '11  harrdly  believe  it,  but 
up  gits  yon  Bolfour  and  clloturrree  me ! ! !  " 

not  to  be  lightened  by  SAGE  OP  QUEEN 
ANNE'S  GATE  denouncing  Government  as 
meanest  in  motive,  lowest  in  action  of  any 
he  had  known  since,  in  the  prime  of  youth, 
he  joined  the  diplomatic  service. 


THE    MODERN    HAT.     (A    STUDY    IN    SHADOWS.) 


When  SAGE  gat  down,  the  WEARISOME 
ONE  discovered  on  his  legs,  looking  more 
than  usually  wise.  What  would  be  his 
subject  ?  Autonomy  in  Crete  P  the  Peace 
negotiations ?  the  Soudan  advance?  tli.- 
Behring  Sea  imbroglio?  There  was  a 
rumbling  sound.  Members  thought  the 
thunder  had  begun  again.  It  was  only 
premonition  of  movement  of  the  hydraulic 
machinery  whereby,  in  moments  of  in- 
tense emotion,  the  WEARISOME  ONE  draws 
his  voice  from  remote  recesses  of  his  boots. 

"  Mr.  LOWTHBR,"  the  voice  said,  in 
curdling  tones,  "  I  desire  to  call  the  atten- 
tion of  the  Committee  to  a  question 
affecting  Scotch  herrings." 

In  a  moment  the  House  threw  off  the 
sombre  mood  born  of  a  sultry  night.  A 
peal  of  merry  laughter  broke  forth.  Be- 
fore it  had  subsided  PRINCE  ARTHUR 
moved  the  closure.  The  WEARISOME  ONE, 
his  herring  and  his  string,  were  hustled  off 
the  pathway,  along  which  public  business 
moved  with  merrier  pace. 

Buxinriu  done. — Mr.  WEIR  draws  a 
Scotch  herring  across  the  path,  and  what 
came  of  it. 

Tuesday. — A  nice  frank  way  about 
LONDONDERRY.  No  difficulty  when  he 
speaks  in  knowing  exactly  what  he  wants. 
In  Lords,  to-night,  Workmen's  Compen- 
sation Bill  down  for  second  reading.  BEI,- 
PER  understood  to  have  moved  that  stage 
in  the  course  of  a  private  conversation 
with  himself  conducted  with  head  drooping 
over  bundle  of  manuscript  on  the  table. 
WEMYSS  had  intended  to  move  rejection. 
In  deference  to  recommendation  of  Miners' 
Association,  he  magnanimously  withheld 
liis  speech.  This  was  LONDONDERRY'S 
opportunity.  Seized  it  to  run  amuck  at 
Bill,  and  thrust  viciously  at  the  meek 
figure  standing  behind  it.  which  he  Minded 
to  as  that  of  Mr.  "CHAMBERLIN."  Too 
much  reason  to  fear  he  does  not  view  DON 
JOSE  and  his  works  with  the  loyal  satis- 
faction that  becomes  a  leading  Member  of 
the  Unionist  Party.  Almost  pathetic  to 


see  him  holding  out  trembling  hands  to 
the  MARKISS,  begging  him  to  save  sound 
Conservative  principles  from  malign  Radi- 
cal influence. 

A  touch  of  genius  was  the  creation  of 
the  one-armed  miner.  Having  drawn 
painful  picture  of  the  ruined  mine-owner, 
LONDONDERRY,  with  quick,  unexpected 
movement,  dragged  in  the  one-armea  man. 
Short  and  simple  are  his  annals.  With 
constitutional  tendency  to  place  himself 
in  the  way  of  compensation  for  accident, 
he  lost  an  arm  whilst  engaged  upon  his 
daily  avocation.  A  compassionate  em- 
ployer found  work  for  him  in  the  mines. 
But  when  a  Bill,  foisted  upon  a  Conserva- 
tive Cabinet  by  a  former  Radical,  becomes 
part  of  the  law  of  England,  that  one- 
armed  labourer  must  go.  No  employer 


Lord  L-nd-nd-rry  introduces  his  Harrelloui 
One-armed  Miner  to  the  House  of  Lord*. 

harrassed  by  such  legislation  could  afford 
to  find  work  for  a  man  whose  early  pre- 
disposition to  get  into  the  way  of  things 
resulted  in  disablement  calculated  to  make 
him  more  than  ever  liable  to  accident. 


48 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JULY  31,  1897. 


THE  TWO   BOWLES'S— THE  MAJOK  AND  THE  "CAP'EN." 

Tommy.  "Really,  Mr.  Lowther,  SIR  !    To  call  on  a  mere  land-lubber  like  Mm  before  ME  ;  and 
merely  because  he  bears  MY  name !    Really,  SIR,  well— shiver  my  timbers! ! " 


With  only  one  arm  and  a  large  family  he 
must  be  cast  out. 

Great  literary  geniuses  have  ere  this 
made  effective  use  of  partial  dismember- 
ment. Louis  STEVENSON  knew  how  to 
make  terrible  the  beat  on  the  pavement  of 
a  wooden  leg.  An  older  master,  CHARLES 
DICKENS,  added  a  wooden  leg  to  the 
pathos  and  effect  of  the  reading  of  Mr. 
Silas  Wegg.  It  is  reserved  for  the  Marquis 
of  LONDONDERRY  to  lead  into  House  of 
Lords  a  one-armed  man,  slowly  walking 
him  through  the  ranks  of  a  tearful  as- 
sembly. That  anonymous  one-armed  man 
has  struck  a  blow  at  the  Workmen's  Com- 
pensation Bill,  under  which  it  still  reels. 

Business  done.  —  In  spite  of  LONDON- 
DERRY'S one-armed  friend,  Lords  read  a 
second  time  Workmen's  Compensation  Bill. 

Friday. — A  quiet  night  with  Army 
Estimates  in  Committee  of  Supply.  SARK 
finding  time  to  scan  outer  sheet  of  Times, 
comes  upon  pretty  line  in  marriage 
announcements.  "  FAREWELL — WINTER." 
Then  follows  prosaic  announcement  of  how 
a  Mr.  FAREWELL  has  married  a  Miss  WIN- 
TER. But  these  details  cannot,  for  a 
poetic  mind  like  SARK'B,  spoil  the  match- 
less effect  of  the  single  line"  Farewell , 
Winter!"  Henceforth  all  is  sweet  spring, 
lush  summer-time. 

Never  since  poets  began  to  sing  has 
there  been  such  a  perfect  epithalium.  Of 
course  SHAKSPEARE  forestalled  it,  as  he  was 
before  everything.  The  same  idea,  ap- 
plied to  other  circumstances,  is  expressed 


in  those  lines  said  to  be  *vritten  in  geld 
on  an  inner  chamber  at  White  Lodge, 
Richmond : 

Now  is  the  winter  of  our  discontent 
Made  glorious  summer  by  this  sun  of  York. 

That  counts  fifteen  words.     It  may  be  all 
said  in  two.     "Farewell,  Winter!" 
Business  done. — Voted  millions. 


FURTHER  PRIVILEGES  FOR  COLONIAL 
CELEBRITIES. 

( To  be  conferred  on  them  at  their  next  visit. ) 

PERMISSION  to  sit  on  the  Woolsack  and 
in  the  Speaker's  Chair  during  the  debates 
in  the  Lords  and  Commons. 

Latchkeys  to  Buckingham  Palace,  Marl- 
borough  House,  and  Windsor  Castle. 

Pass  to  the  Royal  Box  at  Covent  Garden, 
the  Lyceum,  and  the  other  theatres  pa- 
tronised by  Royalty. 

Entrance  at  all  times  to  private  views 
everywhere. 

Perpetual  right  to  visit,  on  the  Sabbath 
day,  all  places  of  entertainment  closed  on 
Sunday. 

Pass  to  the  editorial  rooms  of  all  the 
leading  London  dailies  and  weeklies. 

Free  admission  to  the  National  Gallery 
and  the  South  Kensington  Museum  on  a 
Students'  Day. 

And — as  a  unique  distinction — right  to 
travel  in  a  railway  compartment  not  over- 
crowded in  any  excursion-train  started  on 
a  bank  holiday. 


A  LAY  OF  THE  G.  P.  0. 

WE  live  in  a  whimsical  age, 
'Twixt  you  and  myself  and  the  Post; 
'Tis  the  ways  of  the  latter  supply  me  with 

matter 
For  marvel — they  have  me  on  toast  I 

It  constantly  has  me  on  toast 
(Of  course,  it  is  only  in  play  1) 
Though  its  tricks  are  so  num'rous,  not  the 

least  hum'rous, 
Is  surely  the  theme  of  my  lay. 

The  particular  theme  of  my  lay 
Is  what  recently  moved  me  to  mirth, 
In   a   place    where   they  traffic  in  things 

telegraphic, 
And  wire  to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

'Twas  not  to  the  ends  of  the  earth 
That   I   wired,   but   to    towns    near    at 

hand — 

The  rule  of  addresses,  each  one  will  con- 
fess is 
The  joke  of  St.  Martin's-le-Grand ! 

I  wired  from  St.  Martin's-le-Grand 
To  New-Cross  and  Newcastle-on-Tyne  ; 
Each   address   had    a   hyphen    or  two    to 

enliven 
Its  look — 'tis  a  habit  of  mine ! 

I  laughed  (an  old  habit  of  mine) 
At  the  Postmaster-General's  fun  ;  — 
While  New-Cross  amounted  to  two  words, 
he  counted 

Newcastle-on-Tyne  as  but  one! 

This  simple  example  's  but  one 
Of  the  freaks  of  the  Post-Office  sage, 
Whose  fancy  created  this  system  belated, 
That  lasts  in  our  whimsical  age  1 


THE  N.  P.  BY  PIGEON  POST. 

First  Wing.  Got  well  over  the  snow. 
Going  strong.  Can  see  a  lot  of  bears  in  a 
sort  of  inland  sea. 

Second  Wing.  Still  on  the  move.  Came 
across  the  moon.  A  portion  of  it  seems  to 
be  made  of  green  cheese. 

Third  Wing.  Balloon  still  on  the  move. 
Quite  a  fashionable  watering-place  within 
sight  of  the  Pole.  Ice  baths  splendid  in- 
stitution. Bathing  so  bracing. 

Fourth  Wing.  French  idea  of  North 
Pole  quite  right.  It  is  a  sort  of  dancing- 
garden — just  like  the  place  in  Paris. 

Fifth  Wing.  Just  over  the  North  Pole. 
The  advertisers  have  been  there.  See  dis- 
tinctly an  announcement  about  some- 
body's soap. 

Sixth  Wing.  On  the  road  home.  Every- 
thing a  great  success.  Please  give  to 
HARRY — who  will  apply  for  it — half-a- 
ero wn. 

P.S. — Extract  frnm  a  private  letter.  So, 
my  dear  old  man,  I  sent  off  all  the  pigeons 
myself,  and  I  only  hope  they  will  like 
them.  Applications  for  half-crown  so  far 
unsuccessful. 


DE  ERRORE  CORRIGENDO. — "Surges  v. 
Bruges."  In  last  week's  issue,  in  men- 
tioning the  monument  of  Admiral  SURGES, 
the  name  was  spelt  "  Bruges,"  and  on  this 
false  foundation  a  monumental  joke  was 
erected.  Finding  too  late  that  "  Surges  " 
was  the  correct  card,  our  monumentally- 
affected  "  Defendant  in  error "  at  onoe 
confessed  and  apologised,  and  Mr.  Justice 
PUNCH,  in  his  own  Court  of  Uncommon 
Pleas,  now  quashes  the  writ. 


AUGUST  7,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


49 


A  J.::i 


l 


ANXIETY  OP  MB.  PUNCH  LEST  HIS  MAJESTY,   KINO   KHOULALON- 

KOKN,    OF    SlAM,    SHOULD   DB8IKB   TO    PRESENT    HIM    WITH   A    "Wllnf 

ELEPHANT." 


TO  H.R.H. 

["  The  Prince  of  WALBB  is  going  to  Maricnbnd  for  a  rourae  of  the  waters." 

Pall  Mall  Gazette.  ] 

THIS  joyous  time,  Sir,  you  have  stood  the  test 

Of  never-ending  trouble  and  turmoil, 
You  Ve  worked  with  ardour  and  unflagging  zest 

To  make  a  real  pleasure  of  your  toil; 
You  Ve  made  the  show  a  genuine  success, 

You  Ve  made  us  proud  that  you  're  VICTORIA'S  son, 
By  courtesy  and  tact  and  deft  address 

You  Ve  made  the  Empire  more  than  ever  One! 
You  Ve  earned  your  holiday,  and  at  Marienbad 

May  you  refreshed  be  by  its  healing  cure; 
But  at  the  'Bad  remember  for  your  good  the  cad 

That  neither  Prince  nor  peasant  can  endure ! 


OUR  AKCILEOLOG1CAL  OUTING. 

London.  July  28,  1897. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — For  real,  downright  giddiness  you  can't 
do  better  than  take  a  day  with  the  archieologists,  and  I  therefore 
venture  to  give  your  readers  the  benefit  of  some  experiences. 

We  started — a  party  of  two,  in  company  with  other  members  ot 
the  Society — about  ten  o'clock  yesterday  morning,  from  the  ter- 
minus of  one  of  the  Southern  lines,  and  duly  arrived,  not  more 
than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  late,  at  Six  Elms,  a  pretty  country 
town  some  twenty  miles  from  London.  Here  we  were  met  In 
some  local  fellow-workers  and  other  enthusiasts  who  had  flocked 
from  all  parts  of  the  country,  to  the  number  of  about  three 
hundred.  Tho  first  item  of  the  programme  was  a  paper  by  the 
rector  on  the  Parish  Church,  whither  wo  proceeded,  in  order  to 
hear  it  read.  The  reverend  gentleman,  however,  was  unavoid- 
ably absent,  and  his  dissertation  was  delivered  from  the  pulpit,  to 
the  accompaniment  of  a  thunderstorm,  by  a  clerical  substitute. 
The  congregation — I  mean  audience — were  much  impressed  by 
the  ninvl  way  with  which  the  preacher  presented  the  architectu- 
ral details  of  the  address.  He  generally  said  "  North  "  when  he 
meant  "  South,"  and  told  us  that  the  church  was  175  feet  long  by 
56  inches  wide,  and  that  the  pulpit  (meaning  the  gallery) 


ran  all  round  the  edifice,  and  altogether  he  kept  us  in  a  state  of 

pleased  and  expectant  attention.  Alter  learning  that  the  pulpit 
had  been  captured  from  u  neighbouring  parish,  "  the  dear  rertnr 
having,  with  hi-,  own  loving  hands,  -'raped  off  the  paint,"  we 

ni.ille    tdr  the    "  Sceptre    Hotel." 

!!.••.•  we  had  a  hasty  stand-up  lunch  on  sponge-cakes  and 
similar  etceteras,  and  then  took  our  places  in  the  eighteen  breaks, 
which  were  drawn  up  in  the  High  Street  outside,  waiting  to  take 
us  to  Six  Elms  Park,  a  distance  of  about  a  mile.  We  snt  for  an 
hour  IK' fore  the  order  to  start  was  given,  time  apparently  being 
no  object  with  archaeologists.  When  the  parson  in  charge  had 
found  the  last  lost  sheep,  and  counted  iw  over  for  the  fifteenth 
time,  the  signal  was  given  by  dog-whistle,  and,  like  (iAi.!LKo'> 
world,  we  moved  after  all.  The  rustics  stood,  one-deep,  won- 
dering what  sort  of  beanfeasters  we  were  anyway,  especially  as 
we  had  no  concertinas,  and  were  forbidden  to  blow  a  horn.  For 
fear  of  being  too  modern  we  pulled  up  at  the  slightest  descent 
to  apply  the  skids,  which  mostly  refused  to  catch.  However,  we 
eventually  reached  the  Tudor  mansion  without  mishap,  and  a 
further  wait  occurred  before  we  were  admitted. 

After  we  had  been  sufficiently  reminded  of  our  presumption  in 
intruding,  we  were  somewhat  reluctantly  let  in  through  a  wicket- 
gate  by  a  prehistoric  menial.  Like  a  pit-door  crowd,  we  streamed 
into  the  second  court,  where  we  stood  in  the  sun,  while  a  learned 
professor  discoursed  on  the  history  of  the  place.  Of  this  I  re- 
member nothing,  except  that  some  antiquarian  was  called  the 
"  Perambulator  "  of  the  county — a  delightful  designation  which 
may  be  recommended  to  political  organisations  when  they  are  tired 

present  titles.  Our  jaws  collectively  fell  when  the  announcement 
waa  made  that  we  could  only  view  the  inside  in  parties  of 
twenty-five,  as  the  floors  were  unsafe.  This  was  in  spite  of  the 
county  ball,  which  had  been  given  there  shortly  before.  The 
majority  of  us  therefore  waited  another  two  hours  in  the  back- 
yard and  the  garden  while  the  first  two  or  three  parties  were 
being  taken  through  the  three  hundred  odd  rooms.  Some,  I 
regret  to  say,  never  saw  the  bedchamber  at  all  where  JAMES  THB 
FIRST  was  to  have  slept  but  didn't,  or  the  owner's  peer's  robes, 
or  any  of  the  other  attractions.  We  had  to  content  ourselves 
with  a  sight  of  the  governess  at  tea.  Then  our  personal  con- 
ductor hurried  us  off  to  the  country  seat  of  the  Society's  noble 
President. 

Arriving  famished,  an  hour  late,  we  hastily  partook  of  his  hospi- 
tality, and  then  skidded  back  to  the  "Sceptre."  Here  we  had 
dinner,  followed  by  loyal  and  local  toasts,  and  much  patting  on 
the  back.  We  wound  up  the  evening  in  the  Public  Hall,  where  a 
lecture  by  an  unconscious  humourist  was  in  progress,  on  "  Palaeo- 
lithic Kitchen  Middens."  Slide  after  slide  of  split  bones,  and 
what  the  lecturer  termed  ovoll-headed  flint  implements,  were  »x- 
hibited  on  the  screen,  and  were  loudly  cheered.  Too  much  of 
this  excitement  after  dinner  might  have  been  bad  for  the  diges- 
tion, so  we  departed  apologetically  for  the  station,  missing  the 


Some  of  the  Antiques. 

final  paper  on  "  Old  Six  Elms."  It  was  truly  a  day  to  be  remem- 
bered. Not  the  least  interesting  of  the  antiques  were  the  occu- 
pants of  some  of  the  carriages  in  the  procession.  Our  van-load 
included  three  dreadfully  proper  young  ladies,  a  married  woman, 
who  cooed  forth  platitudes  to  her  husband  in  a  drawling  baby- 
voice,  as  if  each  word  were  worth  a  bank-note,  four  fat  men,  and 
a  centenarian.  Yours  dissipatedly,  /.  Y.  X. 


VOL.    IXIII. 


50 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  7,  1897. 


\ 


H.R.H.    DR.    WALES,    F.R.C.P.,    THE    POPULAR    PHYSICIAN. 

1  THAN  WHOM  NO  ONE  BETTEK  KNOWS  now  TO  FEEL  THE  PDLSE  OF  THE  PEOPLE." 


AUOUST  7,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


51 


.wWJW1 

INSINUATING. 

Uncle  Nicholas.  "So  TOUR  AUNT  MART  GAVE  TOU  THAT  NICE  HORSE  AND  CART.     Do.  ALL  TOUR  AUNTS  MAKE  you  SUCH  NICE 
PRESENTS  ? " 

Freddy.  "No;  BUT  THEN,  TOU  KNOW,  AUNT  MARY  is  MT  GODMOTHER."  Uncle  Nicholas.  "An,  I  HAD  FORGOTTEN  THAT!" 

Freddy.    "AND   I   AM   AFRAID   YOU    HAVE   FORGOTTEN   THAT   YOU   ABE   MY   GODFATHER!" 


SHOPPING  A  CENTURY  HENCE. 
(A  Sequel  to  the  recent  discoveries  in  British  Columbia.) 

SCENE — Stores  of  the  period.   Assistant  discovered  polishing  flinty  articles 
of  yellow  metal.     To  him  enter  Customer. 

Customer.  Rather  pretty,  those  knick-knacks. 

Assistant.  Yes,  Sir,  we  have  just  received  them  by  the  Electric 
Waggon  Post.  They  are  becoming  very  popular. 

Cust .  Were  they  made  in  England  ? 

Assist.  No,  Sir,  in  Canada.  Nothing  is  made  in  England 
nowadays.  Since  the  last  strike  the  country  can't  stand  the 
expense. 

Cust.  I  see  ;  and  what  are  they  made  of?    Tin,  I  suppose. 

Assist.  Well,  no,  Sir.     They  are  cheap,  and  tin  is  expensive. 

Cust.  Then  I  suppose  silver,  or,  rather,  silver-gilt  ? 

Assist.  Well,  no,  Sir,  we  couldn't  afford  silver.  For  this  sort 
of  line  we  go  in  for  the  showy  combined  with  the  cheap. 

Cust.  How  do  you  secure  it  ? 

Assist.  By  using  the  most  plentiful  metal  in  the  world — gold. 

Cust.  I  see.  Well,  I  will  have  a  shilling's  worth.  In  the 
meanwhile,  can  you  oblige  me  with  chauge  for  an  ounce  of  coal  ? 

Assist.  Certainly,  Sir. 

[Opens  cash-box  and  produces  bank-notes. 

OUR  Irrepressible  One  writes  to  inquire  whether  many  of  the 
statements  made  by  the  disloyal  Press  of  India  may  not  be  fitly 
described  as  "  Brahmin  Bulls." 

CORRECT  DEFINITION  OF  THE  LITTLE  ENOLANDERS. — The  mites 
of  a  Mighty  Imperial  cheese. 


THE  MODE  OF  THE  MOMENT. 

SCENE— Editor's  Sanctum.        Tuts—The  Eve  of  Publication. 
PRESENT — Editor  and  Sub. 

Editor.  Now,  have  we  got  in  everything  of  importance  ? 

Sub.  I  think  so.  The  races  are  fully  reported,  including  tl  t 
betting  at  the  post. 

Ed.  That '«  right.  Pedigree  of  the  winners  given  in  every  case  ? 

Sub.  Certainly  ;  that  is  one  of  our  strong  points. 

Eil.  And  the  cricket — is  that  all  right  ? 

Sub.  Quite.  Careful  analysis  of  the  bowling,  and  four  column* 
given  to  consideration  of  the  SLOOOER'B  second  innings. 

i'.il.  Could  not  be  better.  Have  we  our  usual  amount  of  golf 
and  polo? 

Sub.  Assuredly.  Specials  at  Ranelngh  and  Wimbledon  hare 
reported  fully. 

Ed.  Billiard  match  provided  for? 
.Sub.  Quite.     Column  and  a  half  devoted  to  BOB'S  last  break. 

Ed.  Well,  is  there  anything  else  ? 

Sub  (after  consideration).  No.  I  think  not.  Stay  I  Ve 
have  some  foreign  intelligence,  a  report  of  the  proceedings  in 
Parliament,  an  account  of  the  doings  in  the  County  Council, 
a  long  case  in  the  Chancery  Division,  and  a  forecast  of  t  he- 
harvest. 

Ed.  I  see.  Well,  you  could  dispose  of  all  that  sort  of  thing 
in  a  ten-line  paragraph!  [Scene  doses  in  on  the  suggestion. 


At  Scarborough. 

M  ins  Araminta  Dove.  Why  dp  they  call  this  the  Spa? 
Mr.  Rhino-Ceros.  Oh!    I  believe  the  place  was  once  devoted 
to  boxing  exhibitions.  [Miss  A.  D.  as  wise  as  ever. 


52 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  7,  1897. 


Mrs.  Brown.  " MIGHT  I  ASK  HOW  MUCH  YOU  GAVE  THAT  NIGGEB?"  Mr.  Srman  (first  day  down).  "SIXPENCE." 

Mrs.  B.   "On,  INDEED!    PERHAPS,  SIR,  YOU  ARE  NOT  AWARE  THAT  YOUR  WIFE  AND   FAMILY  HAVE  LISTENED  TO  THOSE  SAME 
NIGGERS  FOR  THB  LAST  TEN  DAYS  FOR  A  PENNY!" 


AUGUSTE    EN    ANGLETERRE. 

THE  COFFEE  CONCERTS  OF  LONDON. 

DEAH  MISTER, — The  stranger  finds  at  London  so  many  of  parks, 
so  many  of  gardens,  BO  many  of  squares,  that  he  would  believe 
himself  of  aboard,  d'abord,  in  the  city  the  best  arranged  for  to 
amuse  himself  in  full  air  the  evening.  But  no !  Fcwtout  some 
parks,  some  gardens,  but  as  restaurant,  as  coffee  concert,  there 
is  but  two — the  Exhibition  at  Earl  Court  and  the  Imperial 
Institution. 

One  time  I  am  gone  to  visit  this  last.  What  sad  place!  1 
march  by  some  innumerable  gallerys,  filled  of  announces,  and  of 
time  in  time  I  demand,  "  Where  finds  himself  the  garden?  "  As 
that  I  arrive  in  fine  to  a  court  of  the  most  lugubrious,  absolutely 
that  which  you  call  the  "  backyard  "  of  a  house,  surrounded  of 
high  walls,  where  I  perceive  a  crowd  of  persons,  very  squeezed, 
essaying  or  to  sit  themselves  on  some  chairs  not  enough  numerous. 
At  the  middle  a  "  band's  stand,"  where  Mister  STRAUSS  and  his 
orchestra  play  some  dances  of  a  ravishing  fashion.  But  what 

firden!     A   garden   in  brick,   shut   up,   absolutely   without  air. 
nd  these  amiable  Londonians,  who  pay  some  taxes  enough  great 
for  to  maintain  the  magnificent   Hide   Park   and   the   delicious 
Kensington  Garden,  at  two  steps  from  there,  sit  themselves  all 
tranquilly  in  this  "  backyard  "  without  to  desire  other  thing  I 

One  other  time  I  am  gone  to  Earl  Court.  A  friend  invites  me 
to  dine  at  the  "  Wellcome  Club  "  in  the  garden  of  the  Exhibition 
at  eight  of  clock.  That  should  to  be  very  agreeable  by  a  such  heat. 
I  put  myself  in  habit,  I  mount  in  handsome  cab,  and  I  say  to  the 
coacher,  "  The  Exhibition."  "  Erlskt,"  says  he,  *  ouitchentrinss." 
I  comprehend  not,  and  therefore  I  say,  "  Earl  Court."  "  Rai'tcha, 
Maounsiah  !  "  responds  he,  and  we  part. 

After  a  course  enormously  long  we  arrive,  I  pay  to  him  three 
shillings  six  pennys,  and  I  enter  by  a  narrow  door.  That 
astonishes  me  not,  for  I  recall  to  myself  the  entry  of  the  national 
Museum  of  South  Kensington.  He  makes  very  hot  and  I  march 
very  far  until  to  this  that  I  arrive  to  a  staircase.  I  find  there 
an  employed,  and  I  say  to  him,  "  Is  it  that  I  shall  arrive  soon  to 
the  Exhibition?"  "Nottir,"  responds  to  me  he,  "other  side, 
stationir."  Sapristi!  He  is  already  eight  of  clock,  he  must  to 


retrace  road,  nbrousser  chemin,  immediately.  I  march  very 
quick  all  the  long  of  the  corridor,  I  traverse  the  street,  I  pass  a 
tourniquet,  I  go  all  right,  tout  drpit,  and  I  arrive  to  a  lake.  I 
see  an  employed.  I  demand  to  him,  "It  is  here,  the  Wellcome 
Club  ?  "  He  responds  that  no,  and  he  explicates  to  me  that  I 
must  to  traverse  the  bridge  at  side.  I  traverse  him.  I  encounter 
another  employed.  Him  also  indicates  to  me  the  road.  I  en- 
gage myself  in  a  labyrinth  of  gallerys,  I  go  to  right  and  to  left, 
and  in  fine  I  arrive  to  another  bridge.  A  la  bonne  lieure,  encore 
un  pont!  Some  bridges,  some  staircases,  as  Venise.  I  regard 
my  watch  ;  he  is  eight  of  clock  and  a  quarter.  He  must  to  hasten 
the  step.  I  traverse  this  new  bridge  and  I  arrive  to  the  entry 
from  where  I  am  parted.  Que  (liable! 

Of  new  I  demand  by  where  he  must  to  go,  of  new  I  traverse 
the  bridge,  and  in  fine  I  arrive  to  one  other  bridge  still  more 
long,  entirely  covered  of  reclaims,  reclames.  It  is  enormous, 
and  at  the  end  finds  himself  a  staircase  of  the  most  steeps.  I  de- 
scend him  with  care,  and,  as  I  see  not  any  employed,  I  go  to  left. 
I  find  myself  in  a  species  of  tunnel,  and  I  arrive  to  another  entry. 
The  employeds  say  to  me  that  I  must  to  return.  Sapristi, 
encore!  And  at  present  he  is  eight  of  clock  and  half.  By  blue, 
he  must  to  run  ! 

At  step  of  course  I  go  out  of  the  tunnel,  I  pass  the  staircase  so 
steep,  and  I  arrive  to  another  ''  band's  stand,"  surrounded  of 
cafes.  Ah,  without  any  doubt  it  is  here  !  I  demand  again.  But 
no,  not  yet!  Another  staircase,  another  bridge!  Man  Dieu, 
what  of  bridges  !  By  a  such  heat,  it  is  one  can  not  ihore  fatiguing. 
I  mount  the  staircase  very  quick  and  I  find  myself  in  a  bazaar, 
filled  of  world,  where  the  air  is  still  more  hot.  Impossible  of  to 
mn.  All  slowly  I  advance,  and  I  arrive  to  another  staircase  and 
to  another  garden.  There  I  perceive  the  words,  "  Wellcome 
Club."  In  fine ! 

My  friends  are  very,  very  amiable.  They  have  attended  three 
quarters  of  hour,  but  all  of  same  they  complain  not  themselves 
of  it.  I  demand  thousand  pardons,  and  I  express  all  my  regrets. 
Then  we  dine,  we  are  all  very  gay,  there  is  some  charming 
misses  among  the  inviteds,  and  I  pass  an  evening  of  the  most 
agreeable*.  But  I  shall  forget  never  the  staircases  and  the 
bridges  of  Earl  Court.  Agree,  &c.,  AUGUSTE. 


AuoutiT  7,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


53 


VIDE    UT    SUPRA. — 'ARRY    BY    THE    SEA. 


COME  FROM  THE  DOGS— A  PBOTEST. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — We  all  of  us  look  upon  you  aa  oui 
friend,  and  if  our  representative  on  your  establishment  used, 
in  days  gone  by,  to  bite  your  nose,  he  now  is  entirely  respectable. 
And  if  he  did  bite  your  nose  in  those  distant  times,  it  was  not 
from  malice,  but  only  in  the  day's  work,  or,  rather,  play. 

Well,  my  dear  Sir,  as  our  friend,  we  ask  you  to  call  the  powers 
that  be  to  attention.  For  the  last  two  or  three  years  we  have 
been  chivied  and  worried  as  if  we  had  strayed  on  to  the  Derby 
course,  and  were  taking,  amidst  hooting,  a  preliminary  canter. 
We  have  been  muzzled  and  unmuzzled,  put  under  restrictions 
here,  and  left  free  there.  Like  the  gentleman  in  the  song,  "  We 
don't  know  where  we  are." 

And  now  comes  a  crowning  annoyance.  If  we  leave  England, 
to  follow  our  people  on  the  Continent,  we  are  to  be  put  in 
quarantine  before  we  are  permitted  to  return  ! 

I  see  that  some  of  our  friends  are  declaring  that  at  the  next 
election  they  will  turn  the  Ministry  out  if  the  Ministry  don't  get 
us  in !  Quite  right !  Love  me,  love  my  dog.  They  had  better 
be  vrarned  in  time  or  else  there  will  be  what  I  have  the  honour 
to  sign  myself,  A  NICE  Bow-wow. 

THE   USE   OP   USURY. 

(Supplementary  Letlen.) 

Post-mark — St.  Jama's, 

SIR, — I  think  the  money-lender  should  not  only  be  prevented 
from  taking  more  than  three  per  cent,  (on  the  model  of  the  old 
interest  for  Consols)  for  his  money,  but  should  also  be  required 
to  give  substantial  security  to  the  borrower.     If  some  such  regu- 
lation as  this  were  put  in  force  I  should  not  have  to  sign  myself, 
ONE  IN  SAD  NEED  OF  A  PALTRY  FIVER. 
Post-mark — Boulogne. 

SIR, — It  is  obvious  that  money-lenders  should  be  forced  to  pay 
not  only  the  principal  but  the  interest  of  the  money  advanced. 
A  person  who  requires  cash,  and  applies  to  a  usurer,  is  nearly 
always  as  innocent  as  a  lamb,  and  quite  unable  to  cope  with  the 
arts  of  the  wily  dealer.  He  requires  the  protection  of  the  law. 
Why  not  make  loans  unrecoverable  ?  That  would  simplify  matters 
considerably.  Yours  truly,  A  MAJOR  IN  RETREAT. 


Post-mark — Mayfair. 

SIR, — I  have  run  through  three  fortunes,  and  for  more  than  a 
quarter  of  a  century  have  been  a  child  of  nature.  How  can  I 
bother  about  the  repayment  of  cash  advanced  ?  As  my  sire  used  to 
say,  "  Dem  it !  "  Yours  truly,  MANTALINI  THB  YOUNGER. 

Posl-mark — Regent's  Park. 

SIR, — I  want  money,  and  I  am  very  frivolous.  Well,  when  1 
want  money,  I  will  sign  anything.  Now,  isn't  it  a  shame  that 
when  I  do  get  money  I  should  be  asked  to  repay  it  ?  It  is  most 
provoking !  And  I  growl  about  it.  Yes,  I  do  1  But,  in  spite 
of  my  frivolity,  I  have  my  head  screwed  on  more  or  less  the  nght 
way,  and  know  what  I  am  about.  So  when  I  am  asked  to  repay 
money  borrowed  at  thirty  or  forty  per  cent.,  I  promise  to  create 
a  rumpus,  and  after  having  a  loan,  am  left  alone.  See  the  joke  ? 
They  don't.  Yours  sincerely,  QUITE  A  CLEVER  LITTLE  THING. 

Post-mark— Fleet  Street. 

SIR, — Of  course  usury  is  detestable,  but  those  who  borrow  are 
not  all  saints,  a'nd  consequently  there  may  be  something  to  be 
said  on  the  other  side.  Yours  sincerely,  COMMON  SENSE. 


THE  VAC.   AND  ITS  VACUUM. 

MR.  PUNCH,  SIR, — As  the  acknowledged  organ  of  the  legal  pro. 
fession,  will  you  permit  me  to  address  you  ?  I  notice  that  the 
question  of  the  duration  of  the  Long  Vacation  recently  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  solicitors.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  initiative 
shoul  1  have  emanated  from  the  Bar.  And  it  is  to  mend  this  fault 
that  I  am  writing  to  you. 

I  have  thought  the  matter  over  very  carefully,  and  have  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  the  proposed  curtailment  of  the  vacation 
would  be  of  little  service  to  the  class  I  have  the  honour  to  repre- 
sent. Taking  myself  as  a  type  of  a  class,  I  can  say  that  the 
premature  commencement  of  the  Term  would  have  no  appreciable 
effect  upon  my  finances.  I  have  read  my  fee-book  (my  admirable 
and  excellent  clerk,  PORTINOTON,  checking  the  entries),  and  for 
the  last  twenty  years  I  find  the  average  precisely  the  same.  So 
by  no  means  curtail  the  vacation  on  our  account. 

(Signed)  A.  BRIEFLESS,  JUNIOR. 

Pump-Handlc  Court,  July,  1897. 


54 


PUNCH,  OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  7,  1897. 


Cousin.     "  BOBBY,  HOW  DARE  YOU?    GIVE  MB  A  KISS!" 
Hobby  ^unabashed).     "WELL,  IF  YOU  DON'T  LIKE  IT,  YOU  CAN  GIVE  IT  ME  BACK  AGAIN!" 


BY  THE  GOLDEN  SANDS. 

(Mr.  Punch's  Special  Correspondence.) 

Harrogate. — His  Imperial  Highness  the 
Grand  Duke  of  TBANS-CAUCASIA  is  taking 
the  waters.  He  finds  them  slightly  bitter. 
The  Night  Porter  at  the  principal  hotel  is 
getting  accustomed  to  being  called  up  for 
whiskies  and  sodas. 

Harvnch. — This  ever  advancing  port  is 
greatly  indebted  to  the  Great  Eastern  Rail- 
way Company  for  the  supply  of  fish  which 
comes  from  Holland  and  Belgium.  Last 
Friday  one  of  the  largest  skates  ever  seen 
was  captured  by  a  local  trawler.  It  is 
suggested  that  the  bones  of  this  magnifi- 
cent fish  should  be  made  into  a  Diamond 
Jubilee  comb. 

Guernsey. — Weather  magnificent.     More 


tourists  than  sheep.  Tobacco,  brandy  anc 
whiskey  under  cost  price.  Militia -men  in 
grand  order. 

Hastings. — If  there  be  one  place  when 
the  electric  lighting  arrangement  ha 
caught  on,  it  is  at  this  favoured  spot  in 
Sussex.  It  quite  eclipses  the  sunshine  else 
where.  Mr.  WILLIAM  LUCAS  SHAD  WELL  i: 
M.P.  for  the  borough,  but  he  is  a  diffiden' 
man  at  St.  Stephen's.  Mussels  are  now  in 
first-rate  condition.  It  is  always  well  tc 
remember  that  St.  Leonard's  is  ''on-Sea.' 

Newquay.  —  Most  of  our  artist  friend 
are  back  again  painting  Cornish  lobster 
with  that  accuracy  which  we  imaginec 
had  expired  with  LEIGHTON  and  MILLAIS 
The  lizards  in  the  adjacent  fields  are  mor< 
plentiful  than  ever.  Professor  GINGER 
TOP,  R.M.A.,  is  staying  at  the  chief  hotel 
He  is  collecting  beetles  for  the  next  In 


mtional  Exhibition  at  the  Imperial  Insti 
ute. 

Ilfracumbe.  —  "  Why   languish    in    Lon- 
don, when  a  little  run  of  225  miles  and  a 
quarter  from  Waterloo  will  land  you  'mid 
he  foamy  breezes  of  Ilfracombe  ?  "     Such 
vas  the  query  put  by  an  American  Doctor 
of   Civil  Law  last   night,  and  no  one  at- 
empted  to  answer  his  question,  while  he 
ncked  his  teeth  with  a  fork.  The  sea-gulls 
are  on  the  wing,  and  promise  rare  sport. 

Lynton. — Never  has  the  Valley  of  Rocks 
ooked  more  pleasant.  The  celebrated  line 
if  railway  from  Lynmouth  is  in  grand  going 
condition,  and  the  coaches  to  and  from 
Barnstaple  and  Minehead  have  never  been 
more  crowded.  As  usual,  we  are  saturated 
with  Lorna  Doom.  She  rivals  Plymouth 
gin,  and  quite  copes  with  such  natural 
3eauties  as  Watersmeet,  Ragged  Jack, 
and  the  Devil's  Cheese  Wring.  Sir  GEORGE 
NEW.NES  going  strong. 

Lowestoft.  —  Some  folk  object  to  the 
breeze  which  crosses  direct  from  Scandi- 
navia across  the  North  Sea,  by  others 
termed  the  German  Ocean ;  but  it  must 
candidly  be  confessed  that  the  mannikins 
and  womanikins  who  paddle  and  make  sand 
castles  about  this  delightful  beach  return 
to  Mayfair,  Pimlico  and  Bloomsbury  with 
less  colour  in  their  hat  ribbons  and  more 
in  their  cheeks.  A  strong  gale  last  week 
considerably  disturbed  one  of  our  most 
prominent  townsmen,  whose  name  must  be 
sacred.  He  was  about  to  place  a  penny  in 
the  slot  of  a  medium  for  supplying  sweets, 
when  an  extraordinary  bit  of  breeze  wafted 
his  bronze  coin  into  the  ocean.  Shortly 
afterwards  a  grand  halibut  was  captured 
by  one  of  our  fishermen,  and  in  its  intes- 
tines was  found  a  token  of  precisely  simi- 
lar value.  Bathing  machines  are  in  ready 
demand  at  the  usual  prices. 


A  STRANGE  DECISION. 

(By  Onr  ffot-to-be-believed  Interviewer.) 

IGNORING  your  instructions,  I  called 
upon  the  potentate,  and  asked  him  if  it 
were  true.  He  said  it  was. 

'  You  see,"  he  explained,  "  I  am  more 
or  less  a  king  in  my  own  country." 

"What,  have  power  of  life  and  death 
and  that  sort  of  thing  ?  " 

"Well,  yes;  there  or  there  about." 

"  And  I  suppose,"  I  suggested,  "  when 
you  go  out  for  a  walk,  they  turn  out  the 
guard,  and  fire  a  salute  of  guns  ?  " 

"Yes,"  he  admitted;  "that's  the  idea.' 

"And  I  suppose  you  can  wear  robes  o: 
diamonds  instead  of  flannels." 

''  Quite  so ;  in  my  own  country  I  woulc 
have  to  exchange  this  flannel  cap  for  a 
turban  encrusted  with  precious  stones." 

"  And  yet,  in  spite  of  all  this  nuisance 
you  have  determined,  with  your  greai 
position  in  the  field,  to  give  up  the  game  ?' 

"  Yes,"  he  said ;   "  I  have.'f 

He  sobbed  for  some  moments,  and  then 
wiped  away  his  tears,  and  added,  "But 
it 's  only  for  a  time ! ! " 

And  when  this  last  item  became  known 
to  adopt  an  Eastern  phrase,  the  cricket 
ball  of  hope  lowered  the  stumps  of  despair 


At   Cowes ! 

Lady  Miraflor  (to  American  Lady) 
The  Cowes  air  always  does  me  such  a  dea 
of  good! 

American    Lady.  So    it    does    me.     11 
makes  me    quite   Royalist  to    think   tha 
the  QUEEN  and  I  are  imbibing  the  same 
atmosphere ! 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— Auou.-vr  7,  1897. 


^==-  fiWAIN<Sc 


STUMPS    DRAWN." 


S-L-SB-RY.  "  PHEW !  .  .  .  NOT  A  BAD  INNINGS,  JOE  ?  " 

CH-MB-RL-N.  "  QLAD  YOU  THINK  SO  !    BUT   YOU   MIGHT   HAVE  BACKED   ME   UP  BETTER  AT  THE 
FINISH  !  " 


AUGUST  7,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


57 


RESIGNATION. 

He,  (Third-Class).  "COMB  AW  A.'  !    D'YE  NO  SBE  THAT  's  A  FIRST-CLASS  t " 

Site  (ditto).  "AWEEL,  ON  A  BUST  DAT  LIKE  THIS,  WE  MAUN  JUST  PUT  UP  wi'  OUT  ACCOMMODATION  ws  CAIT  OST!' 


CHANNEL  CHATTER. 

(As  arranged  by  S.M.  Customs  for  the  Night  Service.) 

ALTHOUGH  the  journey  from  Paris  to  Calais  was  extremely 
tedious,  a  stormy  night  on  the  sea,  such  as  one  looming  before 
us,  is  not  suggestive  of  relief. 

In  spite  of  the  rain  and  wind  it  is  better  to  sit  on  the  upper 
deck  mid  ships,  in  rear  of  the  funnel. 

It  is  a  matter  of  congratulation  that,  thanks  to  the  excellent 
fleet  of  the  L.  C.  and  D.  B.  the  crossing  is  timed  only  to  last 
eighty  minutes. 

It  is  fortunate  that  there  is  no  one  who  can  disturb  us. 

Thank  you,  but  I  am  not  in  a  mood  for  conversation. 

You  may  be  a  Custom  House  officer,  but  I  really  am  not  in  a 
position  to  give  you  my  attention. 

No,  I  have  nothing  to  declare,  save  that  I  shall  greatly  appreci- 
ate your  instant  departure. 

This  is  not  the  time  to  speak  of  spirits  and  cigars. 

Take  my  hand  baggage,  and  do  what  you  please  with  it.' 

I  am  glad  you  have  round  nothing  contraband  and  subject  to 
duty;  but  if  you  had  you  might  have  thrown  it  overboard,  and 
— if  it  becomes  much  rougher — me  after  it. 

Yes,  I  have  some  registered  luggage,  but  I  cannot  be  worried 
at  a  moment  such  as  this  about  it. 

What !  you  wish  to  examine  that  on  board  ? 

It  is  impossible  to  discover  my  small  Gladstone  bag  under  that 
huge  pile  of  baggage. 

Yes  ;  and  if  I  did,  i 
the  examination. 

You  ask  for  my  keys,  but  I  cannot  get  them.  How  can  I  get 
at  my  pockets  when  every  wave  breaks  over  me  ? 

It  is  disgraceful  that  the  luggage  is  not  examined  on  arrival. 

It  may  not  be  your  fault,  but  the  Customs  deserve  the 
heartiest  imprecations. 

What!  Have  to  wait  until  11  A.M.  at  Victoria  because  I  can't 
gee  to  it  at  once  !  Disgraceful  1 


my  feelings  would  not  allow  me  to  assist  at 


I  shall  miss  my  train  to  the  Midlands,  and  be  subjected  to  the 
greatest  inconvenience.  Oh,  law!  Oh,  law!  Cuss — the — Customs! 


SUGGESTIONS  FOR  THE  SILLY  SEASON. 
DRAB  MB.  PUNCH, — Here  are  some  of  mine. 

1.  A  discussion  on  the  probability  of  reaching  the  North  Pole 
by  a  Northern  light  raijway. 

2.  Correspondence  with  regard  to  New  Zealand  mutton  being 
conveyed  to  London  by  balloon  post. 

3.  Political  cartoons  of  Salisbury  plain  and  Salisbury  coloured. 

4.  Sketches  by  Mr.  GL-DST-NB  without  the  convenience  of  a 
post-card. 

5.  Descriptive    article    on    President    KB-O-B    being    drawn 
through  the  streets  of  Pretoria  by  Uitlanders  attached  to  his 
new  State  coach. 

6.  Portraits  of  Mr.  L-B-CH-RE,  Mr.  C-BTN-T,  and  Hon.  PH-L-P 
ST-NH-PE  (with  names  affixed)  exhibited  at,  say,  the  Tivoli  Music 
Hall  or  Palace  Theatre  of  Varieties. 

7.  Correct  details  of  the  Treaty  between  Spain  and  Japan. 

8.  Pictures  in  camera  of  the   bathing  costumes  adopted  by 
many  virtuous  ladies  of  England  as  compared  with  those  worn 
by  numerous  vicious  females  of  France. 

9.  The  latest  idea  of  the  G-BM-N  EMP-R-R,  with  possible  de- 
velopments. 

10.  How  to  cash  a  cheque  on  Bank  Holiday. 

11.  A  treatise  on  the  best  way  of  draining  the  Thames  and 
converting  it  into  a  boulevard  from  London  to  Oxford.     Refer- 
ences  to  the  water  companies  permitted. 

12.  The  fair  price  to  pay  for  a  bed  at  Cowes,  and  the  fair  wage 
to  give  a  boatman  for  sculling  one  half  a  mile. 

13.  How  to  meet  Diamond  Jubilee  expenses? 

I  am,  Your  obedient  servant, 

Tiptop  Club,  N.  REGINALD  RATTLEBBATXE. 


58 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST^?,  1897. 


3RBCLASS 


Clerk.  "RETURN. 

Pat.  "  PHWAT  FOR  'UD  Oi  BE  WANTIN'  A  EETURRN  TICKUT  WHEN  Oi'it  HERE  ALREADY?" 


ance  of  a  single  supplementary  porter  the 
damaged  articles  were  carried  carefully 
into  the  waggon,  the  horses  started  off, 
and  the  equipage  with  its  valuable  burden 
disappeared. 

Then  there  were  congratulations  all 
round,  for  every  one  connected  with  the 
Board  considered  that  all  had  been  done 
that  should  have  been  accomplished. 

"  But  what  has  the  fuss  been  about  ?  " 
asked  a  ratepayer,  who  from  the  first  had 
taken  an  interest  in  the  complicated  pro- 
ceedings. 

Then  came  the  explanation.  A  pair  ot 
scissors  having  been  discovered  to  be  dam- 
aged, new  ones  had  replaced  them,  and 
the  original  piece  of  cutlery  had  been 
returned  into  store. 


HOW  THE  MONEY  GOES. 

(A  Legend  of  the  School  Board,  founded  on  fact.') 

THERE  was  great  excitement.  The  In- 
specting Official  had  discovered  the  imper- 
fection. The  Head  of  the  Department  was 
ready  with  an  explanation. 

"  They  had  come  undone." 

"I  see,"  said  the  Inspecting  Official. 
"  And  now  they  are  useless  ?  " 

An  admission  was  made  to  that  effect. 

"Then  they  should  be  replaced,"  was 
the  decisive  rejoinder. 

"It  may  take  some  time.  It  will  be 
necessary  to  apply  for  others." 

"  Have  you  no  forms  ?  " 

"Certainly.  But  the  cost  of  the  print- 
ing, the  price  of  the  postage,  the  time  of 
weary  waiting  ?  " 

"  Are  nought,"  was  the  prompt  response. 
"You  have  your  orders." 


And  then  the  Inspecting  Official  took  his 
departure  to  perform  his  duties  elsewhere. 

And  so  the  necessary  application  was 
made,  and  after  a  while — a  rather  long 
while — the  new  ones  were  received,  and 
work  was  resumed  with  the  former  vigour. 

But  the  matter  was  not  to  rest  there. 
If  there  was  one  thing  abhorrent  to  the 
Board,  it  was  waste,  and  that  this  severed 
pair,  useless  in  their  present  condition, 
should  be  left  on  the  premises,  perhaps  to 
rust,  perchance  to  be  mislaid,  was  not  to 
be  tolerated  for  a  moment.  So  the  proper 
machinery  was  called  to  the  assistance  of 
the  Board,  and  all  went  as  merrily  as  a 
marriage  bell. 

After  the  others  had  been  in  use  for 
some  time,  a  waggon  harnessed  to  a  pair 
of  horses  appeared  in  front  of  the  tempo- 
rary resting-place  of  the  discarded  ones. 

"  Are  they  ready  ?  " 

Yes,  they  were ;  and  without  the  assist- 


SEX  VERSUS    SEX. 
(By  a  N»w  Woman.) 

["At  the  present  time  a  girl's  education  is 
effeminate,  whereas  it  should  be  feminine." — Dr. 
Clement  Sufcfs  OH  "  Hygiene  of  Youth."} 

GOOD  gracious!     Our   girls'  education  ef- 
feminate ? 
This  makes  it  most  hard  to  be  clement 

to  DUKES. 
This  is  prejudice — sheer, — which   is  what 

all  we  women  hate, 
Just  as.  in  games,  we  hate  cheating  and 

flukes. 
Effeminate?    Lawks!     Look  at  togs  and 

lawn-tennis ! 
At   "bikes,"  and  at  fashions  bifurcate 

in — bags ! 
How  awfully  jealous  the  judgment  of  men 

isl 
In  true  up-to-dateness  how  slowly  man 

lags! 

What  is  effeminate  ?  Mollyish  ?  Mawkish  ? 

The  girl  of  the  period,  some  years  ago, 

Was  soft,   sentimental,  shy,  blushful  and 

squawkish  ; 
But  can  DUKES  imagine  that  now  she  is 

so? 
To  squeal  at  a  mouse,  or  to  flush  at  a 

flattery 

Once  was  the  "note"  of  a  young  Eng- 
lish girl, 
Now    she    fears    not   battle,    banter,    or 

battery, 

Hunting-field  cropper,  or  bicycle  "  purl. 
Ingenues,  all  crumpled  muslin  and  cackle. 
LEECH  had    to    picture;    but   girls    of 

to-day 
Calculus,     cricket,     or     cleft-skirts     will 

tackle, 

Equally  "  manly  "  in  dress,  work  or  play. 
Swift  on  the  Wheel,  or  successful  as 

Wrangler, 
Woman  fast  stealeth  a  march  on  poor 

Man. 

Woman  effeminate?    Many   a  dangler 
Is  left  "  in  the  cart "  while  she  goes  to 

the  van. 

Men  are  effeminate,  now,  but  too  often. 
Soon,  though,  there  '11  be  small  distinc- 
tion of  sex, 
Unless  women  harden  still   more  as  men 

soften, 
And  then   interposition   the    grumblers 

may  vex. 

Fancy  how  Mrs.  LYNN  LINTON  will  flutter, 
How  "  OUIDA  "  will  wail,  how  BUCHANAN 

will  skirl ; 
When,    owing   to    changes    too   awful    to 

utter, 

The  true  type  of  manhood  is  found — in 
a  girl  I 


A  WAITER'S  PAY. — The  cork-screw. 


7,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

(A  young   Yaclittman  in  difficulties  responds  to 
hit  Inamorata  from  Coices.) 

You  ask  me  to  sing  of  the  Sea. 

To  tell  of  the  joys  of  the  Solent, 
\Vlien  I  'in  pestered  with  grim  £  j.  <!., 

Ami  the   l)ills  on  which  mone\    Ann   \l<> 

lent. 
A  capital  fellow,  ABB  Mo. 

With  a  rare  understanding  for  whiskey  ; 
His  jx-rrpntnge  is  -well,  I  don't  know 

If  /  'd  truckle  with  matters  so  risky. 

Yet  lir  does  it — and  so  I  "ve  a  yacht 

(ABE  Mo  is  the  dear  ducat  finder), 
But  somehow  I  wish  he  would  not 

Ship  a  passenger  known  as  a  "  Minder," 
For  he  's  one  of  those  curses  of  trade, 

When  it  comes  to  a  matter  of  dealing, 
Who  are  stubborn,  and  must  be  obeyed, 

And    don't   reckon  with   friendship  and 
feeling. 

I  'm  the  owner,  and  fly  the  burgee 

Of  a  club  with  an  Admiralty  warrant  ; 
But  the  "Minder"  has  eyes  that  can  see 

And  a  manner  that's  grossly  abhorrent. 
He  insists  on  his  right  to  behave 

In  a  way  that  is  most  democratic  ; 
Why,  the  skipper  he  'd  treat  as  a  slave 

And  a  salt,  who  is  far  from  the  Attic! 

But  the  skipper  is  one  of  the  sort 

That  perk  up  at  a  land-lubber's  bawling, 
And  whether  it's  "starboard"  or  "port," 

He    can    weather    the    breeze    without 

"  hauling." 
You  will  laugh  at  this  pitiful  tale 

Of  a  pitiful  picnic  at  sea,  dear, 
lint  I  '<!  rather  be  struck  by  a  gale 

Than  have  Ann  Mo's  •'  Minder  "  with  ms, 
dear. 

There  must  come  an  end  to  endurance, 

A  finish  to  bluster  and  bluff, 
And  even  a  "  Minder's  "  assurance 

Isn't  proof  against  waves  that  are  rough. 
Of  course,  I  was  simply  a  fool 

To  attempt  to  look  big  to  the  many, 
And  the  "  Minder  "  's  but  one  of  the  school 

Who  at  Cowes  make  a  pound  for  a  prn  n  y  '. 


ESSENCE    OF    PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  FROM  THB  BIAKT  or  TOBY,  M.P. 

House  of  Commons,  Monday  night, 
./».'!/  26.— "Yes,"  SARK  whispered,  look- 
ing across  at  COITRTNEY,  clothed  in  indig- 
nation and  a  buff  waistcoat,  bemoaning 
the  shortcomings  of  the  South  Africa 
Committee,  lamenting  that  SQUIRE  or 
MALWOOD  should  have  overlooked  main 
point  of  attack,  protesting  his  unreserved 
belief  in  DON  JOSE'S  innocence,  but  warn- 
ing him  of  the  possible  consequences  of 
doing  it  again ;  "  yes,  I  believe  in  the 
transmigration  of  souls.  DIOGENES  has 
been  dead  these  two  thousand  years  and 
more.  But  he  lives  in  London  to-day, 
dwells  in  Chelsea  instead  of  a  tub,  and  in 

Slace  of  a  coarse  cloak,  sometimes  in- 
ulges  in  the  luxury  of  a  blue  coat  with 
brass  buttons.  On  the  whole,  he 's  not 
more  acceptable  to  easy-going  brother  to- 
day than  he  was  in  Athens  of  old.  He  has 
a  way  of  telling  inconvenient  truths  at  un- 
wilcome  moments,  and  does  not  make  the 
lesson  more  palatable  by  courtly  phrase  or 
grace  of  manner." 

DIOGENES  COVRTNET  truly  in  fine  form 
to-night.  Worst  of  him  from  some  points 
of  view  is,  that  he  goes  straight  to 
heart  of  question,  tears  off  tinsel  of 


sophism,  tawdry  dress  of  sentiment,  leaves 
the  facts  naked,  and  some  one  ashamed. 
The  long-pending  attack  on  South  Africa 
Committee  in  full  rry.  Why  didn't  they 
insist  on  production  of  cables  withhold  by 
HAHKBLEY?  (a)  Because  there  was 
in/thing  in  them.  (6)  Because  there  was 
not  time  to  pursue  inquiry  and  report  this 
Session,  (c)  Because  it  was  not  HANK.S- 
I.KV,  but  CECIL  If  nouns,  who  ought  to  have 
l*en  proceeded  against.  (rf)  Because 
CKTII.  Itii.uiFs  was  in  South  Africa. 
(e)  Because — because  they  didn't. 

DON  JOSE  magnificent  as  usual  when  his 
hack  is  to  the  wall.  "  He  's  like  the  wal- 
rus as  described  by  the  French  poet,"  said 


in  to   lunch  with   ANTIHTIIKNKM,   and  that 
grave  philosopher  so  far  forgot  him 

!•)    fitch    him    a    woniier    with    his    stick? 

'Strike    me,    AVIIKTHKMCR,'    remarked    thf 

then  young  man,  '  but  never  shall  you  find 
a  stick  hard  enough  to  drive  me  from  your 

presence  whiNt  there  is  anything  to  be 
learned,  any  information  to  be  gained, 
from  my  conversation  ;,nil  acquaintance.'" 
"Excuse  me,"  I  said,  "but  if  I  remem- 
ber the  quotation  right,  it  runs,  'any  in- 
formation to  be  gained  from  your  convena. 
tion  and  acquaintance.' " 

"Quite  so,"  said  SARK.  "But  you  are 
thinking  of  DIOGENES  of  Sinope.  I  have 
in  my  mind  DIOGBNES  of  Bodmin." 


'  DiOCiENBI  COURTNIY. 


CAWMEI.L-BANNERMAN,  looking  across  the 
table  admiringly : 

"  Get  animal  e«t  tres-mechant ; 
Uuand  on  1'attaque  il  tt  defend." 

SQUIRE  OF  MALWOOD  grandly,  patheti- 
cally reproving.  "I  hope  at  least,"  he 
said,  with  Cardinal-Wolsey-come-to-lay- 
my-bones-among-you  voice  and  mien,  "I 
shall  not  live  to  see  the  day  when  the 
House  of  Commons  is  prepared  to  declare 
by  a  majority  that  it  does  not  trust  the 
word  of  its  statesmen,  and  that  it  Ins  no 
reliance  or  confidence  in  the  good  faith  ot 
its  Committees." 

DIOCE.NES  smote  this  glittering  bubble 
with  his  staff.  "There  is,"  he  thundered, 
"no  question  of  the  honour  of  the  Com- 
mittee, but  of  their  wisdom." 

It  was  well  DIOGENES  had  so  safe  a  place 
as  his  tub  for  retreat  after  this  speech. 
Otherwise  DON  JOSE  would  have  shrivelled 
him  up  with  bitter  rejoinder.  Even  canny 
CAW  MELL-BANNERMAN  girded  at  the  philo- 
sopher, whilst  the  Ministerialists  amongst 
whom  he  sat  shouted  themselves  hoarse  i-i 
angered  reproof. 

"You  remember,"  said  SARK,  "what 
DIOGENES  said  when,  uninvited,  he  looked 


Business  done. — House  decides  by  304 
votes  against  77  that  the  South  Africa 
Committee  could  do  no  wrong. 

Tuesday. — Comfort  of  CAI.DWEI.I.  to  an 
overworked  Minister  is  incalculable.  To- 
night question  suddenly  sprung  upon 
PRINCE  ARTHUR  as  to  order  of  precedence 
of  Scotch  Bills.  As  Leader  of  House  he, 
of  course,  ought  to  have  known  all  about 
it.  Frankly  admitted  he  didn't ;  looked 
round  hurriedly  for  Lord  Advocate. 
GRAHAM  MURRAY  not  in  his  place.  Has  of 
late  sat  up  through  some  fearful  nights 
with  Scotch  Public  Health  Bill.  Said  to 
be  at  this  moment  in  bed  in  darkened  room, 
with  damp  sheet  of  amendments  to  Bill 
bound  round  his  aching  brow.  In  his 
temporary  absence  PRINCE  ARTHUR  obliged 
to  admit  he  knew  nothing  of  the  matter. 

"I  know  I  ought  to  have  made  myself 
acquaintC'l  with  it,"  he  timidly  observed, 
"but  I  confess  I  have  not." 

CAMERON  suggested  that  Public  Health 
Bill  should  be  taken  first.  PRINCE  ARTHUR, 
fancying  he  had  heard  mention  of  such  a 
measure,  bowed  acquiescence.  BUCHANAN 
agreeing,  he  felt  the  ground  grow  firmer 
under  hi«  tottering  legs.  Then  it  was 
CALDWELL  came  to  aid  of  belated  Leader. 


60 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  7,  1897. 


"I  believe  the  Public  Health  Bill  will 
be  taken  first,"  he  said,  nodding,  with  re- 
assuring friendliness,  towards  stricken 
Leader  of  the  House.  That,  PRINCE 
ARTHUR  gratefully  remarked,  left  nothing 
more  to  be  said. 

Beyond  the  gratification  of  the  moment, 
stretched  the  desire  for  permanence  of  the 
system.  Why  should  Ministers  be  worried 
with  questions  of  the  order  of  business? 
They  crop  up  every  night,  particularly  at 
this  period  of  the  Session.  They  lead  to 
bickering  and  the  parting  of  friends.  Why 
not  leave  it  all  to  the  CONVERSATIONAL 
CALDWELL.  The  promptness,  the  ease,  the 
authority  with  which  he  settled  the  knotty 
question  suddenly  presenting  itself  to- 
night  promises  the  dawn  of  Elvsium  when 
the  whole  arrangement  of  Government 
business  shall  be  left  to  him.  As  Ovid 
somewhere  represents  CALDWELL  saying, 
with  the  pleasant  accent  of  the  Scotch 
Lowlands, 
"  Me  duce,  damnosas,  homines,  compescite  curas." 

Business  done. — Navy  estimates.  JOKIM, 
envious  of  Jubilee  generosity  of  the  Cape, 
proposes  to  present  his  sovereign  with  a 
new  yacht  at  the  cost  of  a  quarter  of  a 
million  sterling.  Taxpayers  will,  of  course, 
find  the  money.  But  that  (to  JOKIM)  a 
trifling  consideration. 

Thursday. — Whips'  rooms  swiftly  emp- 
tied on  startling  news  going  round  that 
TOM  ELLIS  was  up.  No  reason  why  a  Whip 
shouldn't  take  part  in  debate.  He  is  a 


Y 


BUTTRESSES  OF  THE  CHUECH! 

"  A  very  able  family  Triumvirate. " 

Sir  W.  S-re-rt,  July  29. 

representative  of  the  people  like  the  rest 
of  us.  As  SHAKSPEARE  pointedly  puts  it, 
Hath  not  a  Whip  eyes?  Hath  not  a  Whip 
tongue,  ears,  dimensions,  senses,  affec- 
tions, passions?  Wherefore,  then,  should 
a  Whip  not  join  in  debate?  He  may;  but 
as  a  rule  he  doesn't.  So  the  incursion  of 
TOM  ELLIS,  M.A.,  in  debate  on  Education 
question  stirred  the  sluggish  current  of 


FIGHTING  CAPACITY  ! 
A  Battleship  and  two  Cruisers.    Mr.  G-cb-n,  Mr.  M-c-rtn-y,  Mr.  A.  Ch-mb-rl-n. 


hat  PRINCE  ARTHUR,  following  the 
SQUIRE  OF  MALWOOD  in  discussion, 
pointedly  alluded  to  as  "a  hot  night." 

WALROND  and  ANSTRXJTHER,  rare  visi- 
tants to  Treasury  Bench,  sat  huddled  to- 
gether at  Gangway  end  in  amaze.  It 
wasn't  one  of  your  snippetty  speeches  in 
Committee.  Rather  it  was  a  well-informed, 
clearly  thought  out,  forcibly  argued,  ad- 
mirably delivered,  denunciation  of  the 
Bishops  and  all  their  works  in  relation  to 
education.  Once  TOMLINSON,  thinking 
that,  whilst  a  Whip  was  omnipotent  in 
the  Lobby,  he  was  of  no  account  in  the 
House,  interposed  a  contradiction.  Be- 
fore Member  for  Preston  quite  knew  wherp 
he  was,  he  was  prone  on  his  back,  and 
kicked  aside  so  that  he  might  not  impede 
progress.  All  done  in  a  minute.  No  one 
more  astonished  than  TOMLINSON. 

"This  won't  do,  you  know,"  said  WAL- 
ROND,  gloomily  regarding  the  Opposition 
Whip.  "These  fellows  mustn't  have  it  all 
their  own  way.  Tell  you  what,  BOB  ;  in- 
stead of  going  up  to  Scotland  for  the  12th, 
you  must  go  into  training  :  come  out  next 
Session  as  a  first-class  debater ;  take  all 
the  shine  out  of  TOM  ELLIS.  What  do  you 
think  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  very  nice,"  said  ANSTRU- 
THER,  successfully  repressing  enthusiasm 
at  the  prospect.  "  But  don't  you  think 
that  degree  has  something  to  do  with  it  ? 
You  know  he  sneaked  off  ur>  to  Oxford  the 
other  Saturday,  and  took  his  M.A." 

"Very  well,  BOB,"  said  the  Ministerial 
Whin  to  his  esteemed  junior,  "you  shall 
do  the  same.  We  're  not  going  to  be  beat 
for  a  trifle  like  that.  So  just  arrange  it." 

Business  dont. — Oyster  divided  between 
Elementary  Schools.  Voluntary  Schools 
get  the  oyster  (£619,000)  ;  Board  Schools 
the  shell  (£91.000). 

Friday.  —  Best  thine  about  Foreign 
Prison-made  Goods  Bill  is  WALLACE'S 
speech  in  moving  rejection  on  third  read- 
ing. Almost  boisterously  humorous,  wiMi 
some  flashes  of  wit,  and  much  solid 
argument. 

"And  to  think,"  SARK  says,  "that  at 
one  time  WALLACE  wanted  to  get  an  ap- 
pointment as  a  coroner !  He  wouldn't  be 
safe  in  such  a  position.  Any  corpse  in 
which  remained  the  slightest  sense  of 
humour  would  bo  sure  to  get  up  and  laugh 


as  he  charged  the  jury.  And  that,  you 
know,  would  never  do." 

House  grateful  to  Member  who  in  these 
closing  days  of  long  Session  can  keep  up 
his  spirits.  But  outburst  had  no  effect  on 
fortunes  of  Bill.  House  listened,  laughed, 
and,  by  majority  of  more  than  two  to  one, 
read  the  Bill  a  third  time. 

liusini's/i  ilnne. — Everything  the  Govern- 
ment put  forward. 


THE  LAY  OF  THE  GREAT  AUK'S  EGC. 

[A  slightly  cranked  specimen  was  sold,  on  Julv  27, 
to  Mr.  MIDDLEIIROOK  for  160  guinea* — "  a  ridi- 
culous price  for  such  an  egg  as  this,"  as  tl  e  auc- 
tioneer observed.] 

OH!  talk  not  to  me  of  Klondykc, 
Coolgardie,  Peru,  or  the  Rand  ; 

As  investments  they're  failures  alike, 
Compared  with  the  latest  to  hand ! 

But  give  me  the  egg  of  the  auk, 
The  great  auk — I  ask  for  no  more  ; 

When  it's  cracked,  they  can  fill  it  with 

chalk 
Till  it  fetches  its  weight  in  gold  ore. 

There  are  only  just  threescore  and  ten 
Of  such  eggs  in  existence  to-day, 

And  no  longer  a  live  specimen 
Of  the  fowl  any  further  to  lay ! 

Each  egg  has  a  long  pedigree 

Drawn  up  from  the  date  of  its  birth  ; 
They  '11  be  smashed,  till  at  last  there  will  be 

But  one  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

Ah !  then,  if  that  egg  were  but  mine, 
My  treasure  at  once  I  would  float 

In  the  City — the  chance  would  be  fine 
An  unlimited  boom  to  promote ! 

I  would  turn  myself  into  a  Trust 

With  a  Board  and  the  rest  of  the  Tribe  ; 
The  market  we'd  nicely  adjust, 

While   the    public    w.ould   rush    to    sub- 
scribe. 
The  world,  I  am  sure,  would  take  shares 

In  my  single  and  marvellous  egg  ; 
I  'd  buy  up  the  arch-millionaires, 

And  reduce  them  to  work  or  to  beg ! 

Alas!  it  is  merely  a  dream — 

For  I  haven't  the  guineas  to  spend 

At     these     auk-tions     (ahem!),     and     my 

scheme, 
With  my  Lay  of  the  Egg,  's  at  an  end ! 


AUOUHT  14,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


61 


•-   "*r'-;" 


''."•'. 


SAD    FACT. 


Impudent  Choir-boy  (to  our  Vicar,  who  if  "  teaching  himself").    "  HERK 
KNDBTH   THE   FIRST   LESSON  ! 


ON  THE  RIVER. 

(Page  from  the  Diary  of  a  Sweet  Girl  Cl 

Monday. — Very  pleased  I  have  been  chosen  for  the  boat.  So 
glad  to  have  been  taken  before  AMY  and  BLANCHE.  I  am  sure  I 
shall  look  better  than  either  of  them.  They  needn't  have  been 
so  disagreeable  about  it.  AMY  asking  for  her  racquet  back,  and 
BLANCHE  refusing  to  lend  me  her  cloak  with  the  feather  trim- 
mings. FANNY  should  make  a  first-rate  stroke,  and  KATE  a 
model  coach. 

Tuesday. — We  were  to  have  practice  to-day,  but  postponed  it 
to  decide  on  our  colours.  Blouses  are  to  be  left  optional,  but 
we  are  all  to  wear  the  same  caps.  We  had  a  terrible  fight  over 
it.  FANNY,  ROSE  and  I  are  blonde,  so  naturally  we  want  light 
blue.  HENRIETTA  is  a  brunette,  and  (selfish  thing!)  stood  out 
for  yellow  !  However,  we  settled  it  amicably  at  last  by  choosing 
— as  a  compromise — pink.  Then  I  made  a  capital  suggestion, 
which  pleased  everybody  immensely.  Instead  of  caps  we  are  to 
wear  picture-hats. 

ll'nlnfxday. — Went  out  in  our  boat  for  the  first  time.  Such  a 
fight  for  places !  I  managed  to  secure  bow,  which  is  the  long  way 
the  best  seat,  as  you  lead  the  procession.  Everybody  sees  you 
first,  and  it  is  most  important  that  the  crew  should  create  a 
good  impression.  HENRIETTA  wanted  the  position,  and  said  that 
hi-r  brother  had  told  her  that  the  lightest  girl  should  always  be 
bow.  I  replied  "  quite  right,  and  as  I  had  lighter  hair  than  hers, 
and  my  eyes  were  blue  and  hers  brown,  of  course  it  should  be 
me."  FANNY  and  ROSE  agreed  with  me,  and  KATE  (who  was 
annoyed  at  not  being  consulted  enough)  placed  her  five.  HEN- 
RIETTA was  in  such  a  rage  ! 

Thursday. — We  are  in  training!  Think  it  rather  nonsense. 
Why  should  we  give  up  meringues  and  sponge-cakes?  And  as 
to  cigarettes,  that  isn't  really  a  privation,  as  none  of  us  really 
liko  thorn.  A  mile's  run  isn't  bad,  but  it  wears  out  one's 
shoes  terribly.  KATE  wanted  us  all  to  drink  stout,  but  we  re- 
fused. We  have  compromised  it  by  taking  fleur  d'orange  mixed 
with  soda-water  instead.  The  Turkish  bath  is  rather  long,  but 
you  can  read  a  novel  after  the  douche.  Take  it  altogether,  per- 
haps training  is  rather  fun.  Still,  I  think  it,  as  I  have  already 
said,  nonsense,  especially  in  regard  to  sponge-cakes  and  meringues. 

.Friday.— Spent  the  whole  of  the  morning  in  practising  starts. 


Everybody  disagreeable — KATE  absolutely  rude.  Fancy  wanting 
me  to  put  down  my  parasol  t  And  then  HENRIETTA  (spiteful 
creature!)  declaring  that  I  didn't  keep  my  eye  on  the  steering 
(we  have  lost  our  coxswain — had  to  pay  a  visit  to  some  people  in 
the  country)  because  I  would  look  at  the  people  on  the  banks ! 
And  KATE  backing  her  up !  I  was  very  angry  indeed.  So  I 
didn't  come  to  practice  in  the  afternoon,  saying  I  had  a  bad 
headache,  and  went  instead  to  FLORA'S  five  o'clock  tea. 

Sut unlay. — The  day  of  the  race!  Everybody  in  great  spirits, 
and  looking  their  best.  Even  HENRIETTA  was  nice.  Our  pic- 
ture-hats were  perfectly  beautiful.  FANNY  came  out  with  ad- 
ditional feathers,  which  wasn't  quite  fair.  But  she  said,  as  she 
was  "stroke  "  she  ought  to  be  different  from  the  rest.  And  as  it 
was  too  late  to  have  the  hat  altered  we  submitted.  We  started, 
and  got  on  beautifully.  I  saw  lots  of  people  I  knew  on  the 
towing-path,  and  waved  to  them.  And  just  because  I  dropped 
hold  of  my  oar  as  we  got  within  ten  yards  of  the  winning-post 
they  all  said  it  was  my  fault  we  lost!  Who  ever  heard  the  like  ? 
The  crew  are  a  spiteful  aet  of  ugly  frumps,  and  on  my  solemn 
word  I  won't  row  any  more !  Yes,  it 's  no  use  asking  me,  as  I 
say  I  won't,  and  I  will  stick  to  it.  There  I 

CONSTANTINOPLE  WITH  A  "NO"  AND  A  "YES." 

(Page from  a  Turkish  Diary — last  wetk't  date.) 

Monday. — Received  a  suggestion  that  the  frontier  should  be 
fixed  as  arranged  by  the  military  experts.  The  ambassadors  most 
desirous  that  I  should  consent  to  the  arrangement.  Plans  capi- 
tally executed,  and  descriptive  matter  very  good  indeed.  Most 
delighted  to  look  over  it.  Understand  I  am  expected  to  give  a 
reply.  Certainly,  most  reasonable.  Only  too  pleased.  Would  do 
so  at  once,  but  unfortunately  promised  to  inspect  a  set  of  ivory 
chessmen,  so  must  postpone  the  frontier  matter  to  another  day. 

Tuesday. — Pressing  invitation  from  the  ambassadors  to  settle 
up.  Certainly,  only  too  pleased.  Have  again  inspected  plans 
and  letterpress.  Most  interesting.  Quite  lie  a  second  reading. 
Very  reasonable  to  ask  for  my  decision.  And  the  invitation 
polite  in  every  respect.  Would  certainly  decide  at  once,  but, 
unluckily,  promised  to  take  a  boat  on  the  Bosphorun.  Friend  of 
mine  desires  to  see  the  sun  shining  on  the  water.  Don't  like  to 
disappoint  him.  So  must  postpone  the  frontier  matter  to  another 
day. 

Wednesday. — The  ambassadors  still  urgent.  They  must  have 
very  little  to  do  to  make  such  a  fuss  about  a  trifle.  However, 
from  their  point  of  view  they  are  right.  And  I  am  so  willing  to 
oblige  them.  Only  too  rejoiced  to  oblige  anyone,  especially  the 
ambassadors.  Would  do  it  at  once,  but,  to  tell  the  truth,  fancy 
I  arranged  to  see  someone  or  other.  So  cannot  be  rude.  Must 
attend  to  him  or  her  as  the  case  may  be.  So  must  postpone  the 
frontier  matter  to  another  day. 

Thursday. — The  ambassadors  are  becoming  quite  an  institu- 
tion. Still  anxious  about  their  maps  and  plans.  Had  a  good 
look  at  them.  So  very  nicely  done.  And  so  easily  understood. 
Of  course,  glad  to  oblige  representatives  of  fellow  sovereigns. 
Would  write  at  once,  but  rather  an  inclination  to  a  headache. 
Never  can  attend  to  business  when  this  happens.  So  must  post- 
pone the 'frontier  matter  to  another  day. 

Friday. — As  I  expected,  another  communication  from  the 
ambassadors.  They  are  distinctly  pushing.  Still,  they  are  right. 
Of  course,  it  would  be  better  if  we  could  arrive  at  a  settlement. 
And  everything  so  simple.  Maps  and  letterpress  as  clear  as 
crystal.  Admirable  scheme.  Nothing  objectionable.  Would  cer- 
tainly agree  to  it  if  I  had  not  a  prior  engagement.  Truth  to  tell, 
I  have  got  a  toothache — or,  rather,  what  may  become  a  toothache 
if  I  am  not  careful.  So  must  postpone  the  frontier  matter  to 
another  occasion. 

Saturday. — Customary  call  of  the  ambassadors.  Actually  saw 
them  this  time.  Most  delightful  people,  every  one  of  them. 
Seized  the  opportunity  of  their  visit  to  offer  them  orders  in 
brilliants.  Fully  discussed  the  scheme.  Most  reasonable.  Most 
excellent !  Would  certainly  have  settled  it  on  the  spot  had  I  not 
remembered  I  had  an  important  fixture.  Must  have  my  hair  cut. 

Sunday. — Change  of  front.  Had  a  most  amusing  game  for  the 
last  three  weeks  or  a  month.  Foreign  papers  always  talking  of 
"to-morrow."  Well,  all  will  be  ready  by  "to-morrow" — when 
"  to-morrow  "  comes.  In  the  meanwhile,  settled  everything,  or 
nearly.  With  the  emphasis  on  the  nearly! 


THE  REAL  DIFFICULTY  OVER  THE  BKHRINO  SEA  BUSINESS.—  The 
Seals  of  Office. 

THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  "LIGHT"  BRIGADE. — "A  penny  a  box." 


VOL.    CXIII. 


62 


PUNCH,    OR    THE  >  LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  1-1.  1897. 


H 


s" 

o 


ACOUST  14,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


63 


Customer.  "  PITT  YOU  DIDN'T  'AVE  ANOTHER  APPLE,  AIN'T  IT  ? " 
Landlady  (whose  Cider  is  not  of  the  strongest).   "  WHAT  D'YE  MEAN  ?  " 
Customer.  "WELL,  YOU  maar  'A  MADE  ANOTHER  BARBEL." 


AUGUSTE  EN  ANGLETERRE. 
THE  SUNDAY  AT  LONDON. 

DEAR  MISTER, — See  there  that  which  is  absolutely  the  black 
beast  of  the  stranger  in  an  hotel  of  London!  However,  I  find 
that  the  Sunday  is  not  so  terrible  if  one  knows  the  Ropes,  as  one 
says  in  english.  I  ignore  the  origin  of  this  saying,  but  I  suppose 
that  this  is  the  name  of  some  family,  and  that  this  wishes  to  say 
that  he  must  to  have  some  friends.  Even  the  Sunday  at  London 
is  supportable  when  one  has  some  acquaintances  in  the  town.  By 
blue,  the  stranger  must  not  to  walk  himself  in  the  Fleet  Street  or 
in  the  Strand  Street !  There  in  effect  one  sees  but  a  town  of 
closed  magazines  of  same  in  the  "  Westend."  At  the  month  of 
may  he  must  to  go  to  the  Hide  Park,  where  the  beautiful  misses 
and  the  very  correct  misters  walk  themselves  under  the  trees. 

But  in  summer,  when  he  makes  hot,  he  must  to  quit  the  great 
town  the  Sunday.  See  there  the  occasion  of  to  accompany  the 
family  ROPE  on  the  Thames.  Not  at  London,  ah  but  no  I  Nor 
in  descending  the  river  towards  Southend  or  Grayend.  He 
must  to  go  in  amount,  en  amont,  to  make  a  walk  in  boat  at 
Coockham,  at  Maidenhed,  or  at  Henly.  There  what  charming 
places  for  to  make  "  un  pique-nique,"  frenoh  word  that  one  may 
to  translate  in  english,  a  repast  in  full  air  at  the  country — in 
Italian,  una  merenda  al  fresco.  In  verity  at  London  at  the  month 
of  July  one  desires  much  to  repose  himself  at  the  fresh,  au  /rats. 
And  on  the  Thames  the  invited  stranger  finds  that  which  is  most 
agreeable  in  summer,  eau  fraiche  au  frail  aux  frait  de—de  la 
famillf,  ROPE,  par  exemple. 

In  effect  a  sojourn  at  the  border  of  the  Thames  costs  enough 
dear.  The  milfionnaire  sole  can  to  possess  a  palace  and  a  park. 
For  those  who  are  less  rich,  there  is  all  sorts  or  houses,  the  house 
of  country,  the  cottage,  and  the  "  bungallo."  Also,  floating  on 
the  river,  the  boat-house.  Others,  who  inhabit  London,  have 
but  a  boat  of  agreement,  bateau  d'agrement — a  canoe,  canot,  by 
example — and  amuse  themselves  to  pass  some  hour*  therein  the 
•unday. 

One  Sunday  of  the  last  month  me  I  am  gone  as  that  with  tome 
friends.  I  traverse  the  streets  all  desert  and  I  arrive  to  the 
station  of  Paddingtown  about  ten  of  clock  twenty.  What  of 
world  1  Partvut  tome  misses  in  clear  robes,  robe*  dairet,  and 


some  misters,  each  one  dressed  of  one  trouser  of  flannel,  vetu 
d'un  pantalon  de  flanelle.  Partout  some  hats  of  straw ;  not  one 
sole  hat  high  of  form.  And  this  at  London  the  sunday  t 

My  friends  and  me  we  go  to  the  station  of  Burn  End.  It  is  a 
name  enough  interesting.  I  have  heard  to  speak  of  the  ancient 
legend  of  to  put  the  fire  to  the  Thames.  Evidently  it  is  here  that 
the  inoendy  of  the  river  is  finished,  at  Burn  End.  But,  though 
the  name  is  ancient,  the  village  is  all  beating  new,  tout  battant 
neuf — some  little  modern  houses  at  the  middle  of  some  lands  to 
sell.  What  drolls  of  little  houses  I  From  the  station  we  go 
direct  at,  chez,  the  boater  to  seek  the  canoe  of  my  friends.  Me 
are  six.  The  two  English  love  much  the  exercises  of  the  body 
and  are  great  amateurs  du  canotage.  Me  by  this  great  heat  I 
repose  myself  of  preference.  Thus,  the  canoe  being  ready,  we 
embark  ourselves  all  the  six;  my  two  male  friends  putting  them- 
selves to  row  with  great  vigour,  the  three  ladys  sitting  them- 
selves, and  me  reposing  myself  at  the  stern.  I  am  a  little 
incommoded  by  the  panieri  du  pique-nique,  but  I  think  not  to  it 
when  we  are  in  road,  the  air  being  so  fresh,  the  sky  almost  blue, 
and  my  friends  so  gay,  so  amiable.  As  that  we  go  to  some 
distance  at  the  beyond  of  Marlow  and  in  fine  we  arrest  ourselves 
for  the  lunch. 

We  eat  at  our  ease  at  the  shelter  of  the  foliage,  and  after  that 
the  men  smoke.  By  pleasantery  I  offer  a  cigarette  to  one  of  the 
ladys.  Sapristi,  she  accepts  her!  An  english  miss  who  smokes 
a  cigarette  even  at  the  country!  More  late  I  find  that  she  is 
"  new-woman,"  young  enthusiast  of  the  "  mouvement  feminitte  " 
in  England.  Tiens,  test  drSle! 

Then  we  descend  the  river.  The  canoe  of  my  friends  is  also  a 
boat  to  sails ;  as  they  that  serve  themselves  of  the  wind  of  the 
west,  and  we  make  a  walk  to  the  sail  of  the  most  agreeables  just 
to  Coockham.  After  the  "  fivocklock  "  we  remount  the  river, 
and  in  fine  we  render  ourselves  to  London,  very  content  of  a 
pique-nique  truly  charming. 

Agree,  my  dear  Mister,  with  my  considerations  the  most 
distinguished,  ^^^^^^^_  AUQUBTI. 

THOM  WHO  DON'T  KNOW  WWT«  FROM  WBONO.— Certain  native 
Indian  editor*. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  14,  1897. 


Big  Scotchman.  "  CONFOUND  THESE  MIDGES!" 

Little  Cockney.  "WHY,  THBY  'AVEN'T  TOUCHED  ME!" 

Big  Scotchman.  "  MAYBE  THEY  HAVENA  NOTICED  YK  YET  ! ' 


A  1'INAL  FAREWELL. 

(I'ersonal  to  the  Last. 

HE  was  distinctly  alone.  The  streets 
were  empty,  the  country  depopulated. 
There  was  not  a  sign  of  livmg  being  on  sea 
or  land  beneath  the  sky.  There  were  re- 
cords, though,  of  the  race  that  had  dis- 
appeared. 

''  Yes,"  said  the  man,  taking  up  a  few 
magazines  and  glancing  at  their  contents. 
"  Here  are  the  customary  articles.  An 
illustrated  interview — and  another,  and  an- 
other 1  Nothing  but  illustrated  interviews ! 
I  am  weary  of  them  !  " 

And  he  threw  down  the  pile  of  ephe- 
meral literature  with  a  gesture  of  distaste. 

But  the  idea  haunted  him.  It  made  him 
search  the  more  diligently  for  the  missing 
man.  He  was  to  be  his  companion,  his 
friend,  his  benefactor.  Bub  no,  the  quest 
was  made  in  vain.  He  was  gone  from  the 
towns,  the  trains,  the  seaside,  the  conti- 
nent. There  was  no  trace  of  his  presence 
anywhere. 

"But  it  must  be  done,"  murmured  the 
survivor.  "  Ah  1 1  have  an  idea ! " 

And  then  he  procured  pens,  ink  and 
paper,  and  set  to  work.  He  wrote  for  a 
long  time,  rising  now  and  again  to  take 
pot-shota  at  his  surroundings  with  his 
pocket  camera.  At  length  his  task  was 
accomplished. 

"I  am  in  the  fashion,"  he  exclaimed, 
with  pride.  "  My  life  is  at  length  revealed. 
I  have  fallen  back  upon  autobiography." 

And  the  author  glanced  at  his  MS.  ap- 
provingly. It  bore  the  title,  "The  Last 
Man  on  this  World,  by  Himself — an  Illus- 
trated Interview." 


AN    ERROR    OF    JUDGMENT. 

A  DIALOGUE  STORY  IN  SEVEN  PARTS. 

PART  I. 

SCENE— The  garden  at  "Sunny  Bank,"  Trimbledon,  the  residence  of 
Miss  CAMILLA  LYDE,  author  of  "Fettered  to  a  Fool,"  "In  the  Sight 
of  Heaven,"  and  other  popular  novels.  Miss  LYDE  (age  about  thirty- 
five,  tall,  handsome,  with  a  somewhat  high-strung  and  sensitive  ex- 
pression) is  in  a  wicker-chair  on  the  lawn,  engaged  in  answering  a 
reply-telegram  which  her  purlour-maid,  KEZ[A  SPILWELL,  has  just 
brought  out.  Her  nice',,  NORA  VvriAN,  an  exceedingly  pretty  girl 
of  about  twenty -four,  is  seated  near. 

Miss  Lyde  (as  she  writes).  I  suppose  I  ought  to  ask  him  to 
lunch.  (Handing  reply-form  to  KEZIA,  a  pale,  sandy-haired  girl, 
who  has  been  waiting  in  dignified  abstraction,.)  There,  KEZIA, 
just  see  if  you  can  make  it  out. 

Kezia.  It 's  perfectly  legible,  Miss.  (Reading  aloud.)  "  BOWATER, 
Lebanon  Lodge,  Starbiton.  Yes.  Delighted  to  see  you  ;  but  do 
come  to  lunch  at  two,  if  possible.  LYDE." 

Miss  Lyde.  Make  the  telegraph-boy  read  it,  too.  And,  KEZIA, 
get  out  my  bicycle,  please.  I  shall  want  it  directly. 

Kezia.  If  you  were  thinking  of  going  to  Fitcham,  Miss,  I  went 
over  before  breakfast  myself,  and  there  was  nothing  for  you. 

Miss  Lyde.  There  may  be  an  answer  by  midday ;  at  all  eventa, 
I  can  go  over  and  see. 

Kezia.  I  could  easily  go  again,  Miss,  and  save  you  the  trouble. 
And  I  could  tell  the  post-office  people  to  forward  anything  that 
came. 

Miss  Lyde.  I  thought  I  told  you  I  didn't  wish  that  done.  And 
I  can't  spare  you  this  morning.  I  shall  go  to  Fitcham  myself. 

Kezia.  Oh,  very  good,  Miss. 

[She  departs,  with  an  expression  nf  lofty  displeasure. 

Miss  Vyrian.  You  spoil  that  girl,  CAMILLA.  Her  head's  com- 
pletely turned  ever  since  you  Ve  allowed  her  to  disport  herself 
on  your  bicycle.  She  has  actually  gone  off  in  the  sulks  because 
you  preferred  to  ride  it  yourself,  for  once! 

Camilla.  You  don't  understand  KEZIA,  my  dear  NORA.  She 
is  most  willing  to  make  herself  useful,  and  it 's  an  advantage  to 
have  a  maid  who  can  bicycle.  I  rather  wish  Mr.  BOWATER  hadn't 
asked  himself  here  to-day.  I  wonder  why  he  was  so  anxious  to 


make  sure  of  finding  me  at  home.  I  told  him  I  couldn't  promise 
to  let  him  have  my  next  novel  at  present.  He  really  might  have 
a  little  more  patience  I 

Nora.  I  fancy  he  wants  you  to  promise  him  something  more 
important  still.  Ah,  CAMILLA,  don't  pretend  not  to  understand. 
You  must  have  noticed! 

Camilla  (with  a  slight  flush).  I  have  sometimes  fancied 

But  I  hope  it  isn't  that  that  brings  him  here  to-day. 

Nora.  But  if  it  should  be —  You  don't  dislike  him, 
CAMILLA  ? 

Camilla.  No ;  but  as  yet  I  don't  feel  that  we  have  enough  in 

common  to- •  You  know  my  views  about  marriage,  NORA. 

No  artist,  above  all,  no  literary  artist,  should  marry  anyone  who 
is  not  in  entire  sympathy  with  his  or  her  Art.  I  am  perfectly 
certain  that  I  should  be  a  miserable  woman  if  I  married  a  man 
who  had  no  genuine  appreciation  of  my  work. 

Nora.  If  Mr.  BOWATER  didn't  appreciate  your  work,  he 
wouldn't  be  so  eager  to  publish  your  next  novel. 

Camilla.  It  doesn't  follow.  He  might,  for  all  I  can  tell,  be 
merely  anxious  to  please  me. 

Nora.  But  wouldn't  that  show  how  deeply  devoted  he  was  to 
you? 

Camilla.  I  shouldn't  care  for  a  devotion  which  showed  itself 
in  deceiving  me.  Besides,  I  should  learn  the  truth  sooner  or 
later,  and  then  it  would  be  all  the  worse.  No,  before  I  could 
ever  bring  myself  to  think  of  JASON  BOWATER  as — in  that 
way,  he  must  convince  me  that  he  values  my  work  for  its  own 
sake,  that  it  appeals  to  his  intellect,  and  satisfies  his  taste. 

Nora.  But,  my  dear  CAMILLA,  if  you  're  determined  not  to  be- 
lieve a  word  he  says,  I  don't  quite  see  how  he  is  going  to  con- 
vince you. 

Camilla.  There  is  a  way  by  which  he  might —  I  wonder  it 
I  can  trust  you,  NORA  ? 

Nora  (hurt).  CAMILLA!  Don't  you  know  by  this  time  that 
I  'm  an  absolute  well  ? 

Camilla.  I  will  trust  you.  You  remember  my  telling  you  that 
I  had  finished  a  novel  and  sent  it  to  be  typed  some  time  ago  ? 

Nora.  The  one  you  wrote  while  I  was  away.  I  forget  what  you 
said  it  was  called. 

Camilla.  Stolen  Sweets.  You  must  read  it  when  I  get  the 
proofs  I  really  think  it  is  far  the  best  work  I  have  ever  done. 
Well,  I  sent  it  to  Mr.  BOWATER  with  a  note  to  say  that  the 


Auit-HT  14,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


65 


author  preferred  to  remain  Anonymous  for  the  present,  and  re- 
questing that  any  coiiiiininiciit ions  ininht  be  addressed  to  M.N., 
the  Post  Office,  Fiteham. 

Nora.  So  that  's  why  KK/.IA  has  heen  making  these  mysterious 
expedition*  to  Kite-ham  ' 

i 'an  ill::.  KK/.IA  is  very  goodnatun-d  a!>out  it.  She  /il-r.i  going. 
You  see,  I  was  compelled  to  take  her  into  confidence,  to  some 
extent  . 

-Vn/vj.   I  don't  think  I  should  have  done  that.      Why  were  you  ? 

Camilla.  Mecatise,  as  .Mr.  BOWATER  knows  my  handwriting,  I 
had  to  get  somebody  to  write  the  lettei  for  me,  and  you  were 
away  -so  I  dictated  it  to  KKZIA.  She  writes  a  really  excellent 
hand,  and  is  altogether  unusually  well-educated  for  her  station 
in  life. 

A'I.CI;.  Hut  t  lie  re  was  the  novel  itself.  Oh,  but  of  course,  you 
had  that  type-written  ! 

Camilla.  Yes,  that  would  tell  him  nothing.  And  I  gave  the 
address  at  the  Post  Office,  Fitcham,  instead  of  Trimbledon,  as  a 
further  precaution. 

Nora.  Well,  provided  KKZIA  holds  her  tongue  about  it 

Camilla.  Of  course,  I  didn't  let  her  know  that  it  was  my  storj 
I  was  sending.     I — I  gave  her  to  understand  that  I  was  acting  on 
behalf  of  a  friend,  and  that  I  couldn't  write  myself  that  daj 
10  my  hand  was  too  stiff. 

Nora.  She  must  have  thought  so  much  mystery  a  little  odd,  to 
say  the  least  of  it. 

Camilla.  Oh,  KKZIA  has  the  vaguest  notions  of  how  such  things 
are  managed.  She  evidently  supposed  it  was  the  ordinary  waj 
of  addressing  a  publisher.  And  besides,  it 's  of  no  consequent 
what  she  thinks. 

Nora.  No,  I  suppose  not.  And  so  far,  then,  there  's  been  nc 
answer  from  Mr.  BOWATER. 

Camilla.  Not  a  line.  And  that  makes  it  so  very  awkward  In 
coming  here  to-day.  Because,  you  see,  whether  it 's  the  novel 
he  wishes  to  see  me  about  or — or  something  else,  I  can't  possibl.i 
decide  yet.  Unless,  of  course,  there  's  a  letter  for  me  at  Fitcham 
I  shall  just  have  time  to  bicycle  over  and  ask.  You  don't  fee' 
inclined  to  come  too  ? 

Nora.  It 's  so  hot.  I  think  I  '11  stay  where  I  am,  thanks.  Bui 
tell  me,  suppose  you  find  a  letter  saying  that  Stolen  Sweets  it 
.simply  the  most  extraordinary  work  of  genius  Mr.  HOWATKK  hai 
ever  read  (as  I  'm  sure  it  is !),  what  will  you  do  then  ? 

Camilla.  I  shall  know  that  I  have  found  my  ideal — publisher. 

Nora.  Only  that,  CAMILLA? 

Camilla.  Anything  more  will  depend  upon — circumstances.  1 
don't  even  know  yet  whether  Mr.  BOWATER  will  stand  such  a  tesl 
at  all. 

Nora.  I  'm  sure  he  will  if  he  reads  the  manuscript.  He  pride- 
himself  on  his  success  in  discovering  unknown  geniuses. 

Camilla.  I  know  he  makes  a  point  of  reading  everything  thai 
is  sent  him.  (Hiring.)  Well,  we  shall  see.  By  the  bye,  NORA 
did  I  tell  you  I  asked  GERALD  ALABASTER  to  come  in  to  lunch  to- 
day if  he  can  get  away  from  the  Treasury  in  time  ? 

Nora.  Oh.  CAMILLA.     He  's  alvxiys  here  ! 

Camilla.  He  hasn't  been  here  for  more  than  a  week.  I  though* 
you  'd  be  pleased.  You  're  such  old  friends,  and  he  's  devoted  tc 
you — though  you  do  snub  him  so  unmercifully. 

IVora.  Oh,  that 's  good  for  him,  he  's  much  too  conceited.  But 
GERALD  isn't  a  bad  sort  of  boy  in  his  way,  and  I  daresay  I  car, 
manage  to  put  up  with  him  for  one  afternoon. 

Camilla.  Poor  GERALD!  ....  Well,  I  must  be  off,  my  dear, 
if  I  am  to  get  to  Fiteham  this  morning.  [S/ie  leaves  the  garden. 

Nora  (alone,  to  herself).  I  wonder  whether  CAMILLA  really 


But  I  'in  afraid  she  cares  a  great  deal  more  about  her  work  than 
for  poor  Mr.  BOWATKR.  It  is  a  pity,  for  he  's  such  a  dear,  and  it 
would  be  such  a  good  thing  for  both  of  them.  ...  If  she  had 
been  quite  indifferent,  though,  I  suppose  she  would  hardly  have 
taken  the  trouble  to  test  him  like  this,  and  yet — CAMILLA  nevei 
does  things  like  anybody  else.  .  .  .  But  I  really  believe  he  has  a 

chance,   if  only   he  doesn't CAMILLA   would  never,    never 

forgive  that.  .  .  .  However,  it  isn't  very  likely  ;  CAMILLA'S  books 
are  so  clever,  and  she  thinks  herself  that  this  is  her  very  best. 
Mr.  BOWATER  can't  help  recognising  how  good  it  is,  and  then— 
oh,  it 's  sure  to  come  right. 


A  Satisfactory  Explanation. 

M i-s.  (,'riiliili  Inn.   What  are  those  square  things,  coachman,  yot; 
put  over  the  poor  horse's  eyes? 
I>nn-r.   Blinkers,  Ma'am. 

M  ••<.  (!.   \\hy  do  you  put  them  on,  coachman? 
7>mvr.  To  prevent  the  'orse  from  blinking,  Ma'am. 

[  Inquiry  closed 


FIE! 

(A  Bolidiiy  Shade.) 

PRAY,  why  are  you  reading,  studious  maid, 
This  sultry  noon  in  a  woodland  glade, 
A  print  of  decided  crimson  shade  ? 

It  isn't  the  Spurting  Times,  I  think 

(  From  such  a  male  pa)H-r  perhaps  yon  M  shrink), 

And  the  Sun  and  the  illnlie  are  not  so  pink. 


4  v- 


/^f  /v/TT  A  x   /£->  • 

IMIhife 


Since  ev'rything  conies  to  him  who  'U  wait, 

I  'II  not  intrude,  for  I  hesitate 

To  disturb  a  wood-nymph  go  up-to-date ! 

All  the  same,  it  whets  my  interest 

To  discover  what  journal  you  read  with  zest — 

Whoever 's  the  Editor 's  highly  blest. 

It  has  pictures  (I  see  them  well  from  here) 
Of  murder  and  burglary,  all  too  clear, 
And  scenes  from  very  low  life,  I  fear. 

Ah,  here  is  the  chance  my  doubts  to  ease  I 

IJ-irne  hither  upon  the  fav'ring  breeze 

Is  the  blush-red  sheet  that  I  haste  to  seize. 

Good-bye  I    Excuse  me,  I  've  got  the  blues 
To  think  that  in  weather  like  this  you  choose 
To  peruse  the  gruesome  Police  Court  News! 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

Elementary  Jane,  by  RICHARD  PRTCB  (HurcHiNSON),  is  a  story 
of  the  life  of  the  curious  crowd  my  Baronite,  driving  Westward 
from  Waterloo  Station,  sees  every  Monday  grouped  outside  a 
public  house  at  the  corner  of  York  Road.  Women  and  girls  in 
hats  and  frocks  of  boldest  colour ;  clean-shaven  men  in  gorgeous 
waistcoats  ;  stout  women  seated  in  the  minutest  of  gigs  drawn  by 
the  tiniest  of  ponies,  covered  by  the  most  brilliant  of  horse- 
cloths. Rather  a  vulgar  crowd  the  passer-by  may  think,  a  people 
apart  from  his  respectable  walk  in  fife.  Mr.  PRTCE  knows  t!  em 
intimately  ;  how  they  live,  and  where  ;  how  they  act,  drink,  and 
eat  ;  how  they  make  love  and  (sometimes)  marry.  He  paints 
them  on  his  canvas  with  a  free  hand,  not  too  bold,  whilst  the 
innate  vulgarity  of  the  surroundings  is  chastened  by  the  pure, 
unselfish,  if  elementary  (why  elementary?)  JAKB.  To  the  art 
of  the  story-teller  Mr.  PRYCE  adds  an  admirable  literary  style. 

THB  BARON  DS  B.-W. 


Solved  at   Last. 

Jawkins.  Why  do  they  always  call  sailors  "  tars  "  ? 
Pawkins.  Because  they  're  so  accustomed  to  the  pitching  of 
the  ship. 

THE  FARE  WHICH  A  CERTAIN  COUNTY  COURT  JUDGK  SKHTKS 
UP. — Bacon  with  beans. 


66 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  14,  1897. 


DISCOURAGING. 

Nervous  Philanthropist  (on  a  Slumming  excursion}.   "CAN  YOU  TELL  ME  IF  THIS  is  LITTLE 
EREBUS  STREET,  MY  MAN?"  Suspicious-looking  Party.   "Yus." 

Nervous  P.  "ER — RATHER  A  ROUGH  SORT  OF  THOROUGHFARE,  ISN'T  IT!" 
Suspicious-looking  P.  "  Yus  ;  IT  is  A  BIT  THICK.     THE  FURTHER  YER  cows  DAOWN,  THE 

THICKER   IT  GITS.      I   LIVES   IN   THE   LAST   'AOUSE." 

[Exit  Philanthropist  hurriedly  in  the  opposite  direction. 


WEALTH    r.    HEALTH. 

(Page  from  the  Diary  of  a  Child  of  Fortune.) 

["  The  sufferer  is  the  man  who  cannot  stand 
prosperity." — Daily  Paper.] 

Monday.  —  Cannot  make  it  out.  Re- 
ceived a  letter  telling  me  that  I  had  come 
in  for  £10,000  a  year.  Could  eat  no  break- 
fast, lunch  or  dinner.  Generally  out  of 
sorts.  If  this  kind  of  thing  continues, 
must  send  for  a  doctor. 

Tuesday.  —  Was  getting  better,  when 
completely  upset  by  the  post.  Solicitor's 
letter  (delayed  in  transmission)  brought 
me  the  news  that  the  family  Chancery  suit 
had  been  decided  in  my  favour.  This  will 


double  my  income.  Lost  all  interest  in  my 
surroundings,  and  had  a  bad  headache  for 
the  rest  of  the  day. 

Wednesday. — Distinctly  better,  until  a 
letter  came  from  my  publisher  saying  that 
my  latest  book  had  gone  into  its  twentieth 
edition,  and  had  been  admirably  reviewed 

'  by  all  the  press.  Most  annoyed ;  told  my 
publisher  never  to  worry  me  about  these 
matters.  Sudden  shock  of  success  caused 

I  me  to  succumb.    Prostrate  for  the  day. 

Thursday.  —  Getting  over  my  ailment, 
when  my  eldest  daughter — who  is  rather 
plain  and  in  the  thirties — told  me  that  she 
had  received  an  offer  of  marriage  from  the 
Duke.  She  had  accepted  him.  Upset  me 
for  the  day.  Never  felt  worse  in  my  life. 


If  not  better  to-morrow,  must  see  my 
doctor. 

Friday. — On  the  mend,  when,  looking 
through  the  morning  paper,  found  my  son 
had  won  the  V.C.  As  I  never  expected 
him  to  do  anything  Useful  or  ornamental, 
knocked  all  of  a  heap.  Terribly  ill,  and 
went  to  bed  early. 

Saturday. — Better.  In  fact,  getting  on 
famously,  when,  looking  at  my  paper,  I 
found  that  the  shares  in  the  mine  I  had 
purchased  at  sixpence  a-piece,  had  sprung 
up  to  a  thousand  premium.  Why,  this 
makes  me  a  millionaire.  Terribly  ill.  For- 
tunately, doctor  looked  in  at  the  moment, 
and  after  hearing  my  symptoms,  declared 
I  was  suffering  from  a  severe  attack  of  the 
new  disease,  nervous  prosperity."  As  I 
close  my  diary,  he  is  writing  a  prescription 
for  me.  From  what  he  says,  I  think  it 
will  have  something  to  do  with  a  week  in  a 
workhouse  !  That  would  be  nice,  after  this 
wearying  week  of  monotonous  luck.  The 
reaction  would  be  absolutely  delightful ! 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  County  Guy,  diapleased  with  his  lady  love's 
desire  to  dwell  in  London,  breaks  off  his  engage- 
ment, apparently  fearless  of  the  damages  which 
she  may  recover  from  a  metropolitan  jury . 

SOME  glory  of  the  rivers 

That  run  on  with  crushing  crash, 
With  a  force  that  breaks  and  shivers 

In  a  pent-up  power  of  smash ! 
But  give  me  the  gentler  twining 

Of  a  rivulet  obscure, 
That  'mid  meadows  ever  shining 

Sings  the  song  of  water  pure ! 

Some  hail  the  doughty  scaling 

Of  a  peak  that 's  long  defied 
All  the  mountaineers,  who,  failing, 

Leave  their  bones  to  deck  its  side. 
But  for  me  the  hill — say,  Harrow — 

Where  there  stands  a  goodly  inn, 
And  the  climber's  weary  marrow 

Is  refreshed  by  ale  within  I 

Some  greet  the  might  of  London, 

And  extol  its  pomp  and  pride ! 
'Mid  its  majesty  I  'm  undone, 

And  its  Beadledom  deride. 
For  I  'm  nothing  in  its  traffic 

But  a  fly  expecting  death, 
And  each  "Bobby"  seems  seraphic 

When  he  's  saved  my  parting  breath. 

No !    I  cannot  like  the  bustle 

Of  what  you  folk  call  "  Town  "  ; 
There  's  a  rustle  and  a  hustle 

That  turn  me  upside  down. 
The  flat  you  talk  of  taking 

May  be  fit  for  any  "  toff," 
But  no  ginger-beer-like  shaking 

Will  make  me  "  fizz  up  " — I  'm  off ! 

Don't  mistake  me  !    If  your  mother 

Would  supply  the  rent  and  rooms, 
I  wish  you  'd  find  another 

Who    would    buy    the    chairs    and 

brooms. 
Yes  1    It 's  simply  this.    I  love  you — • 

That  means  worship  and  adore  ; 
But  with  that  flat  above  you, 

It 's — Farewell  for  evermore  ! 


WHY  THB  HUMANE  HEAD  MASTER  OF 
HARROW  OBJECTS  TO  CORPORAL  PUNISH- 
MENT. —  Because  he  •was  orce  Assistant 
Executioner  at  the  block. 


THE  PLACE  WHTRE  THB  GOOD  DIGGERS 
GO,  GO,  GO. — Klondyke. 


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AUGUST  14,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


69 


A    HARD    BARGAIN. 

Young  Sister.  "  MABEL,  BERK  COMBS  CAPTAIN  GOLDMORB  !    Now,  DECIDE  QUICKLY.     EITHER  YOU  OIVK  MB  YOUR  NBW  SASH,  OB  I 

STICK  TO  THIS   SBAT    I  I K  K   A   LlMPKT  I " 


HOLIDAY    RESORTS. 

THE  following  list  of  charming  places  wherein  to  spend  the 
holidays  has  been  sent  us  by  Messrs.  DOKORE  and  DIDDLEUM,  the 
well-known  agents.  By  some  accident,  we  seem  to  have  received 
an  annotated  copy  reserved  for  the  firm's  private  use,  which  we 
therefore  publish  with  a  great  deal  of  pleasure. 

"  Shinglrford-on-Sea. — This  delightful  spot  is  rapidly  winning 
its  way  to  the  first  rank  of  favourite  sea-side  resorts.  Its  splendid 
pier,  its  charming  Aquarium,  its  delightful  Assembly-rooms  will 
(N.B. — They  are  not  built  yet)  afford  visitors  a  never-failing 
round  of  amusement.  Al  fresco  concerts  are  given  daily  (two 
hurdy-gurdies,  one  bagpipes,  one  concertina  with  monkey),  and 
splendid  sea-fishing  may  be  had  (by  those  who  bring  a  boat  of 
their  own;  there  are  none  for  hire).  We  can  recommend  to 
those  who  propose  to  visit  this  favoured  spot  the  attractive  resi- 
dence known  as  2,  Marine  Place,  which  we  have  received  in- 
structions to  let  at  a  very  moderate  rental.  Conveniently  re- 
moved from  the  town  (three  miles)  it  commands  a  delightful  view 
of  the  ocean  (from  the  roof,  with  a  telescope).  Its  sanitary 
arrangements  have  been  recently  put  into  complete  order  (the  last 
tenant  died  from  typhoid).  As  Shingleford  is  certain  to  be 
crowded  by  the  nobility  and  gentry  during  this  season — in  fact, 
every  room  at  the  Hotel  Red  Lion  is  full  at  the  time  of  writing — 
(quita  true  ;  SAMJKK'S  circus  is  spending  a  night  there) — an  early 
application  should  be  made. 

Ve  CnU'i'cy  Hall. — This  magnificent  mansion  is  to  be  let  for 
six  weeks.  It  stands  in  its  own  park-like  grounds,  and  is  within 
easy  distance  of  a  station  (six  miles).  It  contains  noble  recep- 
tion rooms,  furnished  in  true  mediaeval  fashion  (i.e.,  trestle 
tables,  forms,  and  no  carpets),  and  about  forty  guests  could  be 
entertained  in  it  with  ease.  (Might  almost  say  fifty — in  term-time 
Dr.  BIKCHITM  puts  twelve  boys  in  each  of  the  four  large  dormi- 
tories.) To  any  wishing  for  a  holiday  of  real  country-house  life, 


t  his  mansion  may  be  confidently  recommended.  Attached  to  it 
is  a  private  chapel,  a  cricket  ground,  and  gravel  court-yard. 
(Qufry. — Would  it  not  be  better  to  strike  out  the  last  sentence  ? 
Mustn't  let  it  be  known  that  after  six  weeks  De  Courcy  Hall  will 
MLMUI  become  Swishington  College.) 

"To  lovers  of  boating. — We  are  instructed  to  let  for  a  short 
term  the  charming  bijou  residence  known  as  Waterside  Cottage. 
While  comparatively  close  to  London,  it  offers  all  the  attractions 
of  Venice  (especially  when  the  river  conies  in  at  the  dining- 
room  windows).  It  stands  in  the  midst  of  delightful  scenery; 
there  ia  a  charming  lawn,  and  the  river  is  at  the  bottom  of  the 
garden  (except  when  the  garden  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  river, 
which  it  usually  is):  Fishing  rights  are  included  in  the  lease, 
ajid  as  many  as  one  hundred  and  fifty  fish  have  been  taken  by  a 
former  tenant  in  one  day  (minnows).  For  permission  to  view, 
application  must  be  made  to  us.  (N.B. — Be  careful  only  to 
allow  people  to  view  when  the  place  isn't  flooded.)  We  can  con- 
fidently recommend  this  as  a  holiday  seat.  The  tenant  will  have 
the  use  of  a  large  boat  free  of  charge.  (This  is  kept  in  the  hall 
in  case  the  river  rises  suddenly.) 

''  Tumbteton.  Towfrs.—Tbia  historic  house,  close  to  the  lofty 
cliffs  of  Sandiford,  is  to  be  let.  It  possesses  the  charm  of  an 
antique  castle,  together  with  the  conveniences  of  a  modern  resi- 
dence. To  all  those  who  really  love  a  picturesque  and  medieval 
home,  it  should  offer  special  attractions.  (N.B. — It  was  built, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  ten  years  ago,  by  Messrs.  JKRRYBVII.IIER,  but 
it  "s  a  really  splendid  imitation  of  a  media>val  ruin.)  Very  prompt 
application  should  be  made  by  intending  tenants.  (The  place 
may  come  down  with  a  run  any  day !)." 

ELBOTION  INTELLIGENCE. — Mr.  FITZALAN  HOPE,  the  defeated  of 
Sheffield  by  a  diminished  majority,  looks  on  the  Bright-side  of 
the  contest.  Although  unsuccessful,  he  is  not  a  forlorn  HOPB. 


70 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  14,  1897. 


"  I  'M  SURPRISED  TO  FIND  THAT  YOU  KEEP  A  DOG,  ToMKINS  !  WHY,  YOU  CAN  BAREL\ 
KEEP  YOUR  WIFE  !  WHAT  ON  EARTH  DO  YOU  FEED  HIM  ON  ?  " 

"WELL,  I  GIVES  'IM  CAT'S-MEAT.  AND  WHEN  I  CAN'T  AFFORD  IHAT,  WHY,  'E  'AS  TCI 
'AVB  WOT  ws  "AVE." 


SMALL  CULTURE. 

Tuesday.  —  Have  just  read  Mr.  GLAD- 
STONE'S speech  at  Hawarden.  Admirable 
as  usual.  "  The  nearer  an  egg  is  laid  to 
the  place  where  it  is  consumed  the  better 
it  will  he."  Of  course.  No  more  foreign 
eggs  for  me.  In  this  garden,  fifty  yards 
away  from  the  dining-room,  I  will  have  a 
poultry  run.  Must  get  it  put  up  at  once. 
Hurry  out  to  carpenter,  and  at  the  garden 
gate  run  against  SMITH,  my  neighbour. 
Capital  fellow,  SMITH.  We  think  alike  in 
most  things.  Says  he  i»  just  off  to  the 
carpenter.  Find  he  has  also  read  the 
speech.  Gets  all  his  eggs  from  his  father's 
place  in  the  country.  But  likes  rabbits 
very  much,  and  will  stand  no  more  foreign 
ones.  Excellent  idea !  "  Why  consume 
rabbits,"  he  exclaims,  "  laid — that  is, 
hatched — I  mean,  reared,  at  OstendP" 


Why,  indeed?  So  he  is  going  to  start 
rabbit  hutches.  Begin  to  think  we  should 
not  stop  at  eggs.  SMITH  agrees.  Why  eat 
bread  made  of  American  or  Russian  corn  ? 
Can't  grow  wheat  in  ordinary  back  gar- 
dens. But  might  grow  potatoes,  which 
suit  our  fellow  countrymen  in  Ireland.  Do 
this  next  year.  Meanwhile,  buy  English 
potatoes,  and  eat  my  own  lettuces,  now  in 
excellent  condition.  And  why  have  things 
"  made  in  Germany  "  ?  Hate  the  Germans. 
So  does  SMITH.  But  how  about  hock,  such 
a  capital  drink?  And  all  the  real  French 
clarets  made  in  Hamburg?  Never  mind. 
Give  them  up,  and  all  other  foreign  wines. 
Go  on  to  grocer,  and  order  in  supply  of 
British  wines.  SMITH  does  the  same. 

Friday. — Poultry  runs  finished.  Cocks 
and  hens  arrived  to-day.  Shall  be  glad  to 
get  some  home-grown  eggs  at  last.  Begin 
to  feel  quite  unwell,  no  doubt  from  eating 


the    foreign    ones.     SMITH'S   rabbits    also 
airived.    Hear  he  is  unwell. 

Saturday. — Wake  about  five.  Those 
cocks  begin  crowing  rather  early.  Feel 
rather  worse.  Very  little  appetite  for 
home-grown  egg  at  breakfast. 

Sunday. — Wake  about  four.  Tremen- 
dous crowing.  Feel  still  more  unwell. 
Cannot  manage  even  one  egg  at  breakfast. 
Stroll  in  garden.  Why,  SMITH'S  beastly 
rabbits  have  got  out  somehow,  and  got 
through  a  hole  in  the  fence,  and  eaten  all 
my  lettuces !  Hurry  out,  and  run  against 
SMITH  at  the  gate.  "  Your  rabbits — 
I  begin.  "  Your  poultry —  "  cries  he. 
"  Your  rabbits  have  got —  "  Don't 
talk  about  rabbits  when  your  beastly- 
fowls "  "  Have  eaten  all  the  lettuces  ; 

[    say    your    rabbits —  "Have    been 

erowing  all  the  whole  blessed  night — 
"  And  there  isn't  a  single  lettuce — 
"  Had  a  wink  of  sleep —  "  It 's  a 

confounded      nuisance —  "  And      all 

through  your  idiotic  fad  for  new-laid — 
"  Rabbits  be  hanged!  "  With  this,  retreat 
to  the  house  and  slam  the  door.  SMITH 
does  the  same.  Feel  so  unwell  that  I  am 
forced  to  send  for  JONES,  my  doctor.  He 
conies  in  the  afternoon.  Says  I  have  been 
drinking  something  unwholesome.  "  On 
the  contrary,"  I  say,  "  nothing  but  British 
wines."  He  bursts  out  laughing.  "  That 's 
just  it,"  he  says.  "  Poor  SMITH  's  as  bad." 

Monday. — Wake  at  three.  After  break- 
fast, make  it  up  with  SMITH.  We  give  the 
rabbits  and  the  poultry  to  the  gardener, 
who  works  for  both  of  us.  Throw  in  the 
run  and  the  hutches,  on  condition  that  he 
removes  them.  Want  also  to  throw  in  the 
British  wines  ;  but  he  says,  with  a  respect- 
ful smile,  that  he  prefers  British  beer, 
that  it's  a  warm  day,  and  so  forth.  How- 
ever, he  agrees  to  take  the  British  wines 
to  the  Vicar  for  the  next  school  treat. 
The  British  boy  can  doubtless  manage 
them.  So  at  last  peace  reigns  in  cur  back 
gardens ;  SMITH  will  let  me  have  some  of 
his  fresh  eggs  ;  I  will  shoot  some  rabbits 
for  him  when  I  go  to  see  my  people  in  the 
country  ,  and  we  will  make  no  more  at- 
tempts to  follow  Mr.  GLADSTONE'S  advice, 
excellent  though  it  was. 


THE  ECONOMICAL  DRAMA. 

(Recommended  to  Managers  as  useful  during 
the  Dead  Season. ) 

Manager.  And  now,  have  you  cut  down 
everything  to  the  lowest  possible  ? 

Factotum.  I  think  so.  We  are  only 
going  to  have  half  a  limelight,  and  the 
scenery  and  machinery  are  going  to  be 
worked  single  handed  by  the  wardrobe 
keeper,  who  also  takes  care  of  the  pro- 
perties. 

Man.  Quite  sol  And  we  have  reduced 
the  cast  of  the  new  piece  by  half  ? 

Fact.  Certainly.  Our  leading  mail  is 
a  ventriloquist  and  "  quick-change  artist," 
and  now  that  most  of  the  characters  are 
supposed  to  be  in  hiding  in  cupboards,  he 
says  their  words  for  them. 

Man.  First  rate!  And  now  that  we 
have  cut  off  the  gas,  and  are  taking  the 
money  at  the  doors  on  the  pay-in-the-slot 
system,  we  have  only  to  sell  the  triangle 
and  pledge  the  drum-sticks. 

Fact.  I  have  already  arranged  that,  and 
told  the  musical  director  that  as  we  can't 
afford  a  baton  he  must  conduct  with  his 
fingers. 

Man.  Quite !  So  now  we  shall  lose  as 
little  as  possible  !  \Gwtain, 


AUGUST  14,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


71 


"IN  THE  NAME  , OF  JUSTICE    WIGS!" 

( To  the  Editor  of  ' '  1'unch.") 

Sin,  To  nso  the  customary  formula — 
our  tliat  tradition,  combining  truth  with 
ju.stier,  lias  sanctioned — "you,  as  the  re- 
presi  ntativo.  of  tho  profession  of  the  law," 
are  bound  to  protect  its  interests.  I  have 
no  wish  to  complain  of  the  decisions  of  the 
Lord  Chief  Justice,  for  they  have  invari- 
ably been  of  the  highest  excellence.  Still. 
I  am  forced,  in  the  cause  of  the  dignity  of 
the  Bench  and  Bar,  to  protest  against  a 
ruling  in  ti  case  which  was  heard  by  his 
Lordship  as  recently  as  the  5th  instant. 
I  can  do  this  with  the  less  hesitation,  as 
my  objection  in  no  way  affects  the  rights 
of  parties.  It  will  be  remembered  that  the 
Thursday  to  which  I  call  attention  was 
remarkable  for  the  extreme  sultriness  of 
the  temperature.  According  to  the  re- 
porters the  thermometer  marked  from 
eighty  to  ninety  in  the  shade,  and  no  doubt 
such  a  heat  was  very  trying.  Influenced 
by  these  atmospheric  considerations,  the 
Lord  Chief  Justice  not  only  invited  the 
counsel  practising  before  him  to  remove 
their  wigs,  but  set  the  example  of  dis- 
pensing with  his  own  headgear. 

Now,  I  can  make  every  excuse  for  such 
a  proceeding,  but  surely  anything  that 
deprives  the  Bench  and  Bar  of  a  cherished 
privilege  is  to  be  deprecated  ?  It  is  com- 
mon knowledge  that  for  many  years  past 
there  has  been  a  movement  to  put  the  two 
branches  of  the  profession  on  an  equality. 
A  great  distinction  between  the  barrister 
and  the  solicitor  has  been  the  wearing  of 
the  one-time  honoured  horse-hair.  The 
gown  has  been  adopted  when  the  junior 
branch  has  pleaded  in  the  minor  Courts, 
but  the  wig  has  been  sacred.  I  would 
consequently  ask,  Is  it  quite  judicious  to 
permit  an  innovation  which  may  be  fol- 
lowed up  by  others  even  more  dangerous? 

That  I  write  unselfishly  will  be  believed 
by  all  my  friends  to  whom  my  name  is 
known.  But  as  others  may  be  more  criti- 
cal, will  you  permit  me  to  add  that  the 
new  departure,  if  allowed  to  become  a  regu- 
lation, would  practically  lead  to  my  re- 
appearance as  an  advocate.  In  evidence 
of  this  I  would  explain  that,  from  a  regret- 
table oversight  on  the  part  of  my  excellent 
and  admirable  clerk,  PORTINOION,  my  own 
wig  has  been  mislaid  for  the  last  six  years. 

(Signed)     A.  BRIEFLESS,  JUNIOR. 
Pump-Handle  Court,  August  7,  1897. 


Joseph,  and  his  (late)   Brethren. 
(Comment  by  an  Admirer.) 

ALTHOUGH  clever  JOE  has  his  foes,  there's 

small  doubt 
When  they  swore  he  was   "in  it,"  they 

found  they  were  out ! 
And  they  '11  certainly  learn  they  will  need 

all  their  wit 
To  put  him,  like  his  namesake  of  old,  "in 

a  pit."  

Go  a-head ! 

I'iffl/'r  (to  HIKH.ER).  Where  are  you 
going  to  spend  your  holiday? 

Ki  flier.  At  Spitzbergen  ! 

Piffler.  Spitzbergen  !  Is  there  any  hotel 
there P 

Uiffler.  No,  you  fool ;  but  I  shall  have 
one  in  full  swing  by  the  time  the  Andree 
Expeditions  have  started! 


ESSENCE    OF   PARLIAMENT. 

EXTRACTED  FROM  THI  DIAUY  or  TOBY,  M.F. 


of  Coimnniix,  Monday,  August  -. 
Foreign  Prison-made  Goods  Bill  reached 
Lcrds   to-night.     General  opinion  is  that 
it's  a  poor  thing;   RITCHIE,  with  all   his 
passion   for   quotation,  cannot  be  got  to 


"has  gone  past  the  noble  lord,  who  now 
finds  liim-i-lt  a  son  cwliat  belated  advocato 
of  a  rather  outworn  doctrine,  preaching  in 
i  h"  wilderness." 

"A  little  mixed,  don't  you  think, 
Toi.y  '?  "  said  FAKHEK,  coming  across  to  the 
steps  of  the  thione,  where  sons  of  peers 
ana  Privy  Councillors  are  privileged  to 
sti  r.d.  "It's  plainly  an  echo  of  memories 


Kusiicus  EXI-ECIANS! 


add,  "but  mine  own."  Has  been  con- 
temptuously treated  since  its  birth.  Its 
avowed  friends  say  as  little  as  possible 
about  it,  whilst  its  enemies  comfort  them- 
selves against  action  of  irresistible  ma- 
jority by  declaring  it  will  be  impotent  even 
to  do  harm.  Thus  KIMBERLET  to-night. 
"  A  trivial  and  paltry  Bill,"  said  he  ;  "for- 
tunately will  have  no  practical  effect, 
though  it  may  prove  pleasing  to  a  certain 
number  of  ignorant  people."  FARREH 
more  seriously  opposed  measure.  Nothing 
if  not  logical ;  slew  the  slain  with  irre- 
fragable syllogism.  This  speech  tempted 
the  MAHKISS  into  the  lists.  Found  irre- 
sistible temptation  to  give  FARRER  one. 
" The  stream  of  time,"  said  the  MAHKISS. 


GEORGE  Is' A IIIAMKL  IN  HIS  ELEMENT  ! 


King  of  Siam. 
Mini.ter?'' 


"  Why   are    you    not   Prime 


Mr.  C-rz-n.  "  That,  your  Majesty,  is  one  of  the 
iVBteries  of  English  Politics !  I " 


of  Busticus  expectants,  the  countryman 
who,  ever  since  the  days  of  HORACE,  has 
been  watching  and  waiting  until  the  river 
shall  cease  to  flow.  But  the  MARKISS  for- 
got how  the  passage  runs:  — 

atille 
Labitur  et  labetur  in  omne  volubilis  :rr um. 

It  is  the  MARKISS  who  (regarded,  of 
course,  strictly  from  the  point  of  view  of 
politics)  is  the  gaping  rustic  on  the  river 
bank,  waiting,  as  he  has  waited  all  his  life, 
for  the  flood  of  social  progress  and  political 
freedom  to  dry  up.  But  the  river,  '  still  it 
glides  on,  and  will  glide  on  for  all  time  to 
come,'  in  spite  of  all  the  CECILS." 

Business  done.  —  Committee  of  Supply 
closed  in  the  Commons. 

Tuesday.  — "  Of  all  Monarchs  I  Have 
Met,"  says  SARK,  " and  the  record  exceeds 
BEATTY  KINGSTON'S,  His  Majesty  of  SIAM 
is  by  far  the  merriest." 

King  came  down  this  afternoon  to  call 
•in  Lords  and  Commons ;  hopped  about 
.ike  a  sparrow  pecking  corn.  What  ho 
pecked  was  information ;  wanted  to  know 
everything  and  all  about  everybody.  Our 
old  King  GEORGE  of  precious  memory,  with 
his  "What?  what?1'  nothing  to  King  of 
SIAM.  Wonderfully  bright  face;  bubbles 
of  humour  always  breaking  through  bis 
eyes. 

Delightful  to  see  how  swiftly  he  spotted 
HAI  KHVIIV  in  House  of  Lords.  Chair 
placed  for  him  on  steps  of  throne 
immediately  behind  Woolsack.  Up  got 
Lord  Chancellor,  nothing  if  not  polite,  and 
did  courtly  obeisance.  King  looked 
curiously  at  the  svelte  figure ;  smiled ; 
nodded ;  gave  his  attention  to  T\\  KKI>- 
MOCTH'B  exposition  of  points  in  Scottish 
Parish  Councils  Bill.  Presently  Lord 
Chancellor,  running  a  Bill  through  various 
stages,  performed  customary  paces  ;  bobbed 
up  and  down,  putting  question  of  first  and 
second  reading;  ;  stepped  aside  from  Wool- 
sack when  House  got  into  Committee ; 


72 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  14,  1897. 


Til- 


By  a  piece  of  great  good  fortune,  our  artist  has  obtained  a  peep  into  the  Royal  Sk«tch  Book! 
This  is  manifestly  a  hunied  and  furtive  note  in  the  House  of  Commons ! 


back  like  a  shot  to  Woolsack  when  Com- 
mittee concluded. 

King  sitting  immediately  behind  the 
wieged-and-gowned  figure,  almost  crowed 
with  delight.  With  arm  outstretched  and 
eager  forefinger,  he  pointed  it  out  to  Lord 
HARRIS  ;  followed  each  movement  with 
boyish  elee.  When  Bill  read  a  third  time, 
Lord  Chancellor  subsided.  King  leaned 
over  to  HARRIS  and  eagerly  asked,  "  Who 
put  the  penny  in  the  slot?" 

Evidently  thought  the  Lord  Chancellor 
was  a  figure  automatically  worked  on 
ppnny-in-the-slot  principles. 

Jiiixinf.is  tl/ine.  —  Appropriation  Bill 
brought  in  in  Commons. 

Thurxdaii. — Colonel  JOHN  HAY,  United 
States  Minister  at  the  Court  of  St.  James's, 
looked  down  for  a  moment  from  the 
Diplomatic  Gallery  on  the  desolate  scene  of 
'he  closing  hours  of  the  Session.  Except 
in  war  time,  the  Colonel  is  constitutionally 
of  retiring  habits.  Has  scarcely  had  time, 
certainly  has  not  sought  opportunity,  of 
making  himself  known  to  British  public. 
But  he  is  an  old  friend  who  needs  no 


formal  introduction.  He  comes  along 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  Jim  Jihidsn  of  the 
Piairie  Bellr,  with  Lit  He,  lireeches  toddling 
on  the  other  side. 

By  happy  chance,  there  have  just  issued 
from  the  "  Bodley  Head "  two  neat 
volumes  enshrining  his  new  Excellency's 
poems  and  his  charming  records  of  Cas- 
tilian  Bays.  This  last  is  comparatively 
little  known  in  England.  It  is  an  ac- 
quaintance worth  making ;  the  home 
letters  of  a  keen-eyed,  shrewd-headed  man 
of  genial  humour,  temporarily  a  sojourner 
in  a  foreign  country.  As  to  the  poems, 
whilst  everybody  knows  Jim  Uludso  and 
Little  Jirer-ches,  here  is  much  more  in 
varied  style  that  has,  for  the  English 
reader,  the  charm  of  novelty.  In  the 
small,  but  precious  collection  of  Pike 
Ccu.nty  Jialladx,  there  is  one  that  has  not 
found  wide  currency  with  us.  Yet  for 
graphic  touch,  for  grim  humour,  for  terrible 
intenseness  of  effect  compressed  into  a 
line,  The  Mystery  nf  Gilgal  has  no  rival, 
whether  in  Colonel  HAY'S  book  or  another. 

Jlutinexs  dnnr. — Indian  Budget  passed. 

Friday. — Prorogation. 


WIRES  AND  WORK. 

(Fragment /mm  a  Telegraph  Romance — more 
titan  less  imaginary, ) 

IT  was  certainly  of  the  greatest  import- 
ance that  the  despatch  should  be  conveyed 
to  its  destination,  and  at  once.  The  mil- 
lionaire looked  in  all  directions  for  a 
cab,  but  none  could  be  found.  Then  he 
sought  for  a  messenger,  but  again  his  luck 
failed  him. 

"But  it  must,  it  shall  go!"  he  mur- 
mured ;  and  then  he  added,  after  a 
moment's  hesitation,  "  It  "s  a  desperate 
course,  but  I  will  pursue  it.  I  will  wire!  " 

So  he  hurried  to  the  telegraph  office. 
He  rushed  in  and  filled  in  the  form.  Then 
he  passed  the  little  paper  through  the 
grille. 

"  And  so  we  all  went  down  to  Herne 
Bny  and  had  a  shrimp  tea,"  said  a  young 
lady  behind  the  counter. 

"Now,  did  you,  dear?"  responded  a 
colleague.  "Well,  for  my  part,  I  prefer 
the  Crvstal  Palace." 

"  Will  you  kindly  send  this  telegram  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  Sydenham  is  all  very  well  in  its 
way,  but  there 's  nothing  really  like  a 
whiff  of  the  briny." 


"  Will  you  please  to  send  this  tele- 
gram ?  " 

The  young  lady  behind  the  counter  re- 
garded the  millionaire  with  astonishment. 

"Yes,"  said  he.  "I  am  addressing  you, 
and  when  you  have  done  chatting  over 
your  domestic  affairs,  perhaps  you  will 
attend  to  me." 

"  Do  you  want  postage  stamps  ?  " 

"  No  ;  I  want  this  telegram  despatched." 

"  Well,  I  can't  attend  to  that,"  replied 
the  maiden,  turning  again  to  her  col- 
league. ''  Yes  ;  I  like  Herne  Bay  ;  and 
now,  with  these  afternoon  excursions,  it 's 
so  convenient." 

"  Can't  I  send  a  telegram  ?  "  cried  the 
millionaire. 

"  No  ;  you  can't,"  returned  the  young 
lady,  tartly.  "  The  operators  have  tem- 
porarily resigned.  And  what  an  idea ' 
Only  so  far !  Why  don't  you  take  it  your- 
self'? " 

"Eureka!"  exclaimed  the  millionaire. 
"  Why  not  ?  " 

So  the  would-be  sender  carried  the 
manuscript  to  its  destination  himself,  and 
discovered  later  on  that  there  was  a  saving 
of  time  by  the  proceeding. 

"  Yes,"    said    the    temporarily   resigned 


one,  on  learning  the  fact.     "  But  that  was 
not  what   I  wanted  to  teach   the   Public. 
I    wanted    them    to    find    out    that    they 
couldn't  do  without  us." 
But  they  didn't. 


THE  SEASON-ENJOYER'S  YADE  MECUM. 

( To  be  considered  at  the  Sea-side. ) 

Question.  What  is  your  first  step  to 
secure  enjoyment  for  yourself  and  sur- 
roundings during  the  London  season? 

Answer^.  To  take  a  house  or  flat  in  town. 

Q.  Which  of  the  two  residences  is  pre- 
ferable ? 

A.  The  house  is  more  dignified,  and  the 
flat  more  compact.  The  first  with  its 
larger  staff  of  servants  is  more  expensive, 
while  the  last,  with  its  neighbours  to  the 
right,  to  the  left,  overhead,  and  under- 
neath, is  scarcely  as  private  as  may  be 
desirable. 

Q.  Settled  in  town,  what  should  you  do? 

A.  Give  a  crush  to  your  friends,  and 
expect  crushes  in  return. 

Q.  When  may  a  crush  be  considered 
successful  ? 

A.  When  so  many  guests  arrive  that 
the  last-comers  cannot  get  beyond  the 
doorstep. 

Q.  What  are  the  customary  incidents  of 
an  ordinary  crush  ? 

A.  A  crowd  on  the  staircase;  a  hand- 
squeeze  at  the  door ;  a  muffled  conversa- 
tion to  the  sound  of  music  in  the  distance, 
and  the  lightest  of  light  refreshments  in 
the  hottest  of  dining-rooms. 

Q.  Can  any  other  pleasure  be  extracted 
from  such  a  function  ? 

A.  Some  satisfaction  may  be  obtained 
by  the  appearance  of  one's  name  in  the 
list  of  invited  published  in  the  smart 
newspapers. 

Q.  Are  there  any  distractions  other  than 
those  you  have  indicated  ? 

A.  Plenty.  Dinners,  visits  to  the  play, 
with  supper  afterwards,  and  of  course  any 
number  of  dances. 

Q.  What  is  a  dinner? 

A.  From  a  Society  point  of  view,  a 
solemn  function  for  the  wiping  off  of  old 
scores,  and  the  creation  of  new  claims. 

Q.  Is  it  necessary  that  a  dinner  should 
be  eatable? 

A.  Not  absolutely  ;  but  it  is  better  that 
at  least  one  course,  exclusive  of  the  soup, 
should  be  possible  for  even  a  malade 
imaginaire. 

Q,  Should  the  wine  be  unimpeachable  ? 

A.  It  should  be  of  a  character  that  it 
could  be  drunk  without  fear  and  spoken 
of  subsequently  without  reproach. 

Q.  You  have  mentioned  visits  to  the 
play — dp  they  lead  to  gaiety  ? 

A.  It  the  visitors  are  fairly  cheerful 

Q.  But  surely  the  action  of  the  stage 
prevents  conversation  —  lively  or  the  re- 
verse— in  the  auditorium? 

A.  Not  at  all.  In  fact,  the  dialogue  on 
the  stage  is  rather  a  help  than  otherwise  to 
a  chat  in  the  stalls. 

Q.  Are  there  any  other  pleasures  which 
you  hiivo  not  mentioned  connected  with 
the  London  Season? 

A.  Any  number.  The  Park,  the  Opera, 
and  a  hundred  other  distractions. 

Q.  And  then  bicycling  is  an  out-door 
feature  with  the  revellers  ? 

.4.  Not  quite  so  much  as  formerly.  To 
sum  up,  all  May,  June,  and  July  are  passed 
in  a  continuo'is  whirl  of  excitement. 

Q.  Quite  so.  And  what  is  the  greatest 
pleasure  of  the  Season  ? 

A.  To  find  oneself  at  the  end  of  it. 


AUOUHT  21,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


73 


THE    POT    AND    THE    KETTLE. 

"THERE,  MAKIA,  LOOK  AT  THEM  Bo\s  !    Now  I  CALL  THAT  DOWNRIGHT  CRUELTY! 


SOMEBODY'S  DIARY. 

[As  Mr.  Punch's  Principal  Official 
Translator  is  away  tor  his  holiday,  the 
following  important  communication  from 
St.  Petersburg  has  been  translated  by  a 
young  German  subordinate  in  a  rather 
unsatisfactory  manner.] 

Saturday.  —  We  come  to-day  after  a 
happy  Voyage  to  the  beautiful  Peterhofish 
Palace  at.  During  the  Voyage  have  I 
sonic  russian  Words  learnt.  It  rejoice^  me 
that  we  before  the  Voyage  of  FAURE  come 
are.  What  Voyages  concerns  am  I  with- 
out Doulit  absolute  the  First,  "facile  prin- 
ceps."  So  must  no  to  the  first  Time  out  of 
France  travelling  President  me  rival.  The 
Russians  are  very  friendly.  Now  have  I 
again  a  Title,  and  again  a  Uniform.  Ad- 
miral <i  hi  xniti1.  FAURE  cannot  Admiral 
to  become.  Ha,  ha !  Peterhof  is  wonder- 
fine.  All  is  wonderfine.  After  the  Dinner 
spoak  I  very  friendly  and  say  the  russinn 


|  Words  which  I  learnt  have.  NICHOLAS 
speaks  ever  very  coldblooded,  but  he  is  a 
good  Fellow.  So  live  he!  High,  high, 
high  ! 

Nii»i/aj/. — To-day  to  Petersburg.  Abso- 
lute no  Arch !  And  man  says  they  will 
when  FAUBE  comes  five  or  six  beautifullest 
Triumpharches  erect !  That  rejoices  me 
not.  Only  few  Flags,  and  their  stupid 
Hread  and  Salt !  Even  those  will  they  to 
FAVKE  on  a  much  eleganter  Presenterplatc 
offer.  Towards  Krasnoe  Selo  journey  we 
therefore  very  willing  forth.  Again  Sol- 

;  diers.  Ah  so !  That  is  much  pleasanter. 
I  love  ever  the  Soldier,  much  more  than 

I  the  Burgessman.  Stupidhead!  FAFRE  is 
Burgessman.  And  ajso  with  the  Soldiers 

I  have  I  ever  a  new  Uniform.    Ah,  the  beau- 

|  tiful  Uniforms !     FAURE  has  no  Uniform. 

I  Pool  Man!  Mornings,  Afternoons,  Even- 
ings, wears  he  ever  a  black  Coat.  After 
the  Review  play  they  my  "  Song  to  ^Kgir." 
The  Russians  have  a  very  fine  Taste.  In 


\ln-ir  art-  they  very  learned,  and  play  cvei 
the  beautifullest  Masterpieces.  If  I  only 
to-day  sooner  arrived  were  had  I  to  them 
one  of  my  Sermons  to  read  to  be  able. 
FAURE  is  no  Musician,  no  Preacher.  Never 
has  he  a  Song  composed.  To  Bed  much 
happier. 

Monday.  A  great  Heview.  Ah,  the  fine 
Cavalry-  Artillery-  Infantry-  and  8ea- 
Uniforms  which  I  worn  have!  After  the 
Midday-eating  return  we  to  IVtcrhof  back. 
After  the  Dinner  go  we  in  tho  Theatre  in 
the  tic  e  Air.  Ah,  it  1  only  *o  Paris  to  go 
could,  so  would  f  in  the  .lardin  des  Airi- 
bassadeurs  a  happy  Evening  pass.  FAI-HK 
ca'i  every  Kveninn  in  the  Summer  therein 
go!  Yes  well!  Happy  Man! 

Titi'xiliii/. — To-day  has  man  to  me-  said 
that  FATHK  the  new  Ncvabridge,  inaugu- 
rate will.  Thundcrwcather!  Why  not  I, 
as  I  here  am?  It  is  shameful.  She  will 
not  the  Williambridge  be,  but  probably 
'In-  I'elixbridge.  Felix — happy!  That  am 
I  not !  To-morrow  happilywiso  depart  we. 
To-day  remain  I  to  House  and  see  nobody. 

11'rdni'xday. — I  go.  Live  you  well,  un- 
grateful People.  Now  can  you  the  Dero- 
rationpreparations  for  FAURE  begin.  Live 
vou  well !  1  go  to  Germany  back.  Live 
tiirmany!  Live  I !  High,  high,  high  ! 


OBJECTIONS  TO  PLACES. 

(By  a  Stny-al-Hwnf,  Cynic.) 

Antmrp. — Too  many  pictures. 

Roulnghe. — Too  many  English. 

Calais.  —  Barred  by  the  Channel  pas- 
sage. 

Dieppe. — Journey  there  literally  a  ''  toss- 
up." 

Ems. — In  the  sere  and  yellow  leaf. 

Florence.  —  Paintings  anticipated  by 
photography. 

Geneva. — Can  get  watches  nowadays  else- 
where. 

Heidelberg. — Castle  too  "  personally  con- 
ducted." 

Tnterlaken. — tlungfrnu  monotonous. 

Jerusalem. — Looks  better  on  paper. 

Kiuringen. — Fallen  off  since  SHERI- 
DAN'S days. 

Lucerne. — Lion  in  stone  too  irritating. 

Mntlriil. — Bull-fights  can  be  supplied  by 
bireraph. 

Naplrs.  —  No  longer  an  ante  mortem 
necessity. 

Paris. — Used  up. 

Quebec. — After  the  Jubilee,  too  Colonial. 

Rouen. — Preliminary  journey  impossible. 

N'/umur. — Not  to  be  tempted  by  the 
vintage. 

Turin. — Out  of  date  more  than  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century. 

I'trecht. — Nothing,  with  or  without  its 
velvet. 

Wif.ibnden.  —  For  ages  superseded  by 
Monte  Carlo. 

Xeres. — Can  get  sherry  without  going 
there. 

Yokohama.  —  Products  purchasable  at 
the  stores. 

Zurich. — "Fair  waters"  disappointing. 


At  Margate. 

Angelina  (very  poetical,  surveying  the 
rolling  ocean).  "Water,  water  everywhere, 
and  not  a  drop  to  drink." 

Edwin  (very  practical).  No  drink! 
Now,  hang  it  all,  ASOT,  if  I  've  asked  you 
once  I  Ve  asked  you  three  times  within  the 
last  five  minutes  to  come  and  do  a  split 
soda  and  whiskey !  And  I  can  do  with  it ! 


74 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  21,  1897 


AUGUST  21,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


75 


v 


; 


He.  "YOU'RE  FOND  or  CRICKET,  THEN?"  She.  "OH,  I'M  PASSIONATELY  DEVOTED  TO  IT!" 

He.  "WHAT  PART  OF  A  MATCH  DO  YOU  ENJOY  THE  MOST?"  She.  "On,  THIS  PAST— THE  PROMENADE!" 


NOT  IMPOSSIBLE. 

(Fragment  from  a  Military  Komance  that  may  prove  more  real  than 
Moonshine.) 

THB  council  of  officers  eagerly  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  mes- 
senger from  Pall  Mall.  They  were  prepared  to  accept  any 
suggestion  from  Head-quarters.  The  new  attack  had  been 
threshed  out  thoroughly — pros  and  cons  had  been  carefully  dis- 
cussed—and only  the  last  word  had  to  be  uttered.  What  would 
it  be  P  That  was  the  question  that  required  an  immediate 
answer. 

"  I  know  they  are  very  busy,"  said  the  General.  "  Now  that 
Europe  is  arming  in  all  directions  it  will  not  do  for  England  to 
be  behindhand." 

"  Yes,  Sir,"  acquiesced  a  Colonel.  "  And  every  suggestion 
is  valuable.  No  doubt  you  noticed  that  there  was  a  proposal 
to  attempt  the  landing  of  a  hostile  force  on  our  sacred  shore  ? 
A  correspondent  to  one  of  our  leading  papers  some  time  ago 
proposed  that  some  five  thousand  soldiers  should  be  embarked 
on  board  a  small  fleet  and — 

"_Be  furnished  with  sealed  orders  to  be  opened  when  the 
flotilla  was  far  from  land,"  continued  his  second  in  command. 
"Then  the  enemy  composed  of  friends  was  to  make  a  descent 
upon  us,  and  we  were  to  do  what  was  best  to  repulse  the  mimic 
invasion." 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  General,  thoughtfully.  "  But  I  ques- 
tion whether  the  scheme  would  work.  I  have  had  some  ex- 
perience of  the  vagaries  of  the  Channel,  and  if  there  were  bad 
weather  none  of  the  fated  five  thousand  would  be  worth  the 
weight  of  their  rifles  on  disembarkation." 

"You  think  that  a  rough  sea  would  render  them  practically 
valueless  ?  "  queried  a  Surgeon  Field-Marshal  or  a  medical  officer 
of  some  equally  exalted  rank.  "  Well,  certainly  the  mal  de  mer 
is  a  sad  creator  of  inertia." 

"  But  what  would  apply  to  us  would  in  the  same  manner 
weaken  a  real  and  foreign  enemy,"  hinted  an  official  connected 
with  the  commissariat.  But  there  would  be  the  compensating 
advantage  that  the  scourge  would  save  suppers.  It  is  difficult  to 
enjoy  a  meal  in  a  choppy  sea.  At  least,  that  is  the  experience 
of  nine  out  of  every  ten  landsmen.  Still,  with  the  sea  omitted, 
Lord  ROBERTS  has  recently  tested  something  like  the  idea  in 
Ireland." 

And  so  the  talk  went  an.  But  as  the  warriors  spoke  their  eyes 
were  fixed  on  the  distant  horizon.  The  wait  for  the  wanted 
despatch  continued  with  ever-increasing  impatience.  After  some 
time  a  speck  was  seen  in  the  distance.  There  was  a  shout  of  joy. 


"  He  will  be  with  us  directly,"  announced  the  General,  who  hud 
been  watching  the  movements  of  the  newcomer  through  a  tele- 
scope. "  Ah,  he  is  here  I  " 

Ihe  exclamation  was  caused  by  the  bearer  of  despatches  riding, 
travel-stained  and  dead  beat,  into  the  midst  of  the  group  of  ex- 
pectant officers. 

"  From  Pall  Mall,  Sir,"  cried  the  messenger,  jumping  from 
his  jaded  steed  and  presenting  a  packet  to  the  General  com- 
manding. 

There  was  a  bush  of  expectation,  and  then  the  old  warrior, 
with  a  trembling  voice,  declared  that  the  message  had  taken  him 
by  surprise.  It  was  not  what  he  expected,  not  what  they  all 
wanted. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  the  Colonel.  "What  have  we  got  in 
this  critical  moment  of  the  British  Army  P  " 

Then  came  the  reply,  which  explained  everything. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  General,  "  I  have  the  honour  to  inform 
you  that  an  order  has  come  from  the  War  Office  !  " 

"Altering  some  important  detail  of  strategy?"  cried  a  sea- 
soned warnor.  "  No  doubt  the  outcome  of  the  present  manoeu- 
vres. eh,  General,  eh  ?  " 

"  No,"  was  the  calm  reply.  "  We  have  nothing  about  strategy 
—  we  have  instead  something  about  putting  more  lace  upon  our 
uniforms  !  " 


THE  PATRIOT  PATIENTS  RESOLVE. 
(Nor  Made  in  Oermany.) 

1  .1  v  KII  and  limbs  seem,  all  awry  ; 

Something  sulphureous  or  ironic 
In  Autumn  I  am  bound  to  try. 

My  tonic,  though,  sha'n't  be  Teutonic. 
I  used  to  go  to  German  spas, 

And  drink,  and  tub  in,  German  waters, 
But  since  that  WILHELM'S  wild  hee-haws, 

I  've  changed  my  water-curing  quarters. 
Harrogate  suita  my  patriot  moods  ; 

For  I  've  resolved,  my  British  lads, 
No  more  to  purchase  "  German  goods," 

Nor  go  to  German  "  Bads  "  1 


I.ITKRAHY  NOTR.  —  Mr.  HALT,  CAINB'S  recent  novel  is  said  in  the 
London  hospitals  to  be  the  most  exciting  nurse-awry  tale  of  the 
century. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  21,  1897. 


LONDON    OUT    OF    SEASON. 

MR.  PRIMBY'S  CARETAKER  GIVES  A  GARDEN  PARTY  ;  Music  AND  REFRESHMRNTS  IN  THE  CONSERVATORY. 


AN    ERROR    OF   JUDGMENT. 

A  DIALOGUE  STORY  IN  SEVEN  PARTS. 
PART  II. 

SCENE — The  Drawing-room  at  f"  Sunny  [Bank."  NORA  VYVIAN  seated 
alone.  KEZIA  announces  Mr.  GERALD  ALABASTER.  He  is  a  good- 
looking  youth  of  about  twenty -four,  with  a  pleasant,  boyish  face,  and 
a  certain  air  of  ingenuous  self-sufficiency, 

Nora  (as  she  shakes  hands).  How  do  you  do,  GERALD?  Aunt 
CAMILLA  will  be  in  directly.  Se  you  've  managed  to  tear  yourself 
away  from  the  Treasury  in  time  for  lunch  ? 

Gerald.  Yes.  They  don't  keep  our  noses  quite  so  close  to  the 
grindstone  on  Saturdays,  you  know. 

Nora.  I  don't  believe  your  profiles  are  ever  in  much  danger. 
You  generally  get  away  at  four,  don't  you  ?  And  you  haven't 
any  work  to  do  in  the  evenings. 

Gerald.  As  it  happens,  I  do  work  in  the  evenings,  occasionally. 

Nora.  I  suppose  you  roll  the  lawn  or  water  the  flower-beds  ? 

Gerald.  No,  there  's  nothing  of  the  old  Adam  about  me.  I  do 
literary  work — of  sorts. 

Nora.  GEHALD,  don't  tell  me  you  've  gone  in  for  writing  novels  ! 

Gerald.  I  Ve  gone  in  for  reading  them — worse  luck  I 

Nora.  And  you  call  that  work  ?     I  should  call  it  amusement. 

Gerald.  Oh,  is  it,  though?  Not  when  they  're  in  manuscript. 
It 's  like  this,  NORA.  I  Ve  accepted  the  post  of  reader  to  BOWATER 
— the  publisher,  you  know. 

Nora.  Of  course  I  know  Mr.  BOWATER.  But  I  thought  he 
made  a  point  of  reading  everything  for  himself. 

Gerald.  Till  lately.  But  he  gets  such  quantities  of  stuff  sent 
him  that  he  can't  wade  through  it  all.  And  I've  met  him 
here  once  or  twice,  and  at  one  or  two  other  places,  and  we 
rather  chummed ;  found  we  agreed  on  literary  subjects,  and  so 
on,  and  the  other  day  he  asked  me  if  I  would  care  to  read  a  manu- 
script for  him  now  and  then  and  let  him  know  my  opinion  of  it. 
So  of  course  I  jumped  at  the  chance.  There  's  no  knowing  what 
it  may  lead  to. 


Nora.  I  never  thought  of  you  as  a  great  authority  on  Litera- 
ture, somehow. 

Gerald.  Oh,  I  got  through  a  lot  of  novels  at  Oxford.  And  I 
didn't  do  so  badly  in  my  schools.  I  fancy  I  Ve  rather  a  feeling 
for  style,  and  all  that.  I  shouldn't  recommend  BOWATER  to 
publish  anything  that  didn't  strike  me  as  really  first-rate. 

Nora.  And  have  you  come  across  anything  yet  that  did  strike 
you  as  first-rate  ? 

Gerald.  Well,  up  to  the  present  I  Ve  only  had  one,  and  there 
couldn't  be  two  opinions  about  that. 

Nora  (to  herself).  If  it  should  be  CAMILLA'S!  (Aloud.)  You 
mean  about  its  cleverness  ? 

Gerald.  No,  I  mean  about  its  heing  unmitigated  bosh. 

Nora  (to  herself).  It  isn't  CAMILLA'S.  (Aloud.)  So  bad  as 
all  that? 

Gerald.  Utter  rubbish.  I  saw  that  before  I  'd  come  to  the  end 
of  the  first  chapter. 

Nora.  And  so  you  didn't  trouble  yourself  to  road  any  further  ? 

Gerald.  I  beg  your  pardon.  There  was  a  weird  fascination 
about  its  foolishness  that  held  me.  I  read  every — well,  almost 
every  page  of  the  confounded  thing.  I  could  pass  an  exam,  in  it. 
Kind  of  stuff  one  would  like  to  forget,  but  can't.  When 
BOWATER  reads  my  report,  I  don't  think  he  '11  feel  much  hesitation 
about  returning  Stolen  Sweets. 

Nora.  Stolen  Sweets!    GERALD,  it  wasn't  called  that ! 

Gerald.  Ridiculous  title,  isn't  it?  But  better  than  the  book. 
I  haven't  written  much  about  it,  but  I  fancy  I've  said  enough 
to  save  BOWATER  the  trouble  of  reading  it  himself. 

Nora  (to  herself).  It  can't  be  the  same!  (Aloud.)  Do — do 
you  remember  the  author's  name  ?  Was  it  a  man  ? 

Gerald.  It  was  cei-tainly  written  by  a  woman — but  so  far  as  I 
remember  it  was  anonymous.  At  least,  there  was  a  letter  sent 
with  it,  saying  that  the  author  preferred  to  blush  unseen  as 
M.  N.  at  some  post  office — Fitcham,  I  think  it  was. 

Nora.  GERALD,  if  you  only  knew! 

Gerald.  If  I  only  knew  what  ? 

Nora  (to  herself).  I  must  stop  this  if  I  can  I     (Aloud.)     No- 


AUGUST  21,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


77 


thing—  at  least,  you  mustn't  ask  me.  But  suppose—  I  only  aa 
ivppoae—  you  discovered  this  novel  had  been  written  by  —  b 
•oncbmb  you  knew—  would  uot  that  make  a  difference  in  you 
opinion? 

Hi  mill.  \  considerable  difference  in  my  opinion  of  its  author. 
A.I;  a  dli  *i»  lately).  Suppose  /  was  the  author? 
'.'•  mid.  It  won't  do,  NOKA.     I  know  you  haven't  a  very  hig 
opinion  of  my  intellect,  but  I  'in  not  taken  in  quite  so  easily  as  a 
that.      J  'I,K  never  wrote  Stolen  .Suvet*  —  it's  simply  impossible. 

Nora.  Well,  then,  /  didn't;  but—  but  a  vary  threat  friend  o 
mini'  did. 

<•'••!  nl<  t.   I  can't  congratulate  her  —  or  you. 

A  i  •(•<«.  1  didn't  ask  you  to.  But  couldn't  you  tone  down  tha 
report,  or  —  or  something  '( 

Hi-raid.  It's  too  late.  I  sent  it  in  the  day  before  yesterday 
HOWAIKK  ought  to  have  got  it  by  now. 

.\iint.    \\ell,  you  could  tell  him  quietly  that  you  had  entirely 
changed  your  mind  about  the  novel. 
Gerald.  But  I  haven't. 

Nora.  What  </,».<  that  matter?  Couldn't  you  say  so  —  to 
l'1'M-.i1  me  P 

tli'i-iild.  There  isn't  much  I  wouldn't  do  to  please  you,  NORA  _ 
but  don't  .you  see,   I  'in   in  a  position    uf   trust,   so  to   speak. 
iiin'l    recommend    HOUAIKH   to  publish  a  novel   that  's  absoluti 
drivel,  not  even  to  oblige  a  friend  of  yours.     BOWATER  has  a  greu 
reputation  for  bringing  out  only  the  higher  sort  of  fiction.     1 
wouldn't  be  fair  to  him.     I  must  consider  his  interests,  you  know 
.V.ii'ii.    He  ought  to  be  very  much  obliged  to  you.     But  tel 
me  this,  (.KHALI),   would  you  say  that  my  Aunt's  writing  wai 
"absolute  drivel,"  to  use  your  elegant  expression  P 

i-inilil.  Of  course  not,  though  I'm  bound  to  say  I've  never 
read  a  line  of  her. 

Nora.  Oh,  yes,  you  have  —  though  you  may  not  be  aware  of  it 
And  possibly  you  're  not  aware  either  that  Mr.  BOWATER  is  very 
anxious  to  secure  a  novel  by  my  Aunt,  that  he  is  an  immense 
admirer  of  hers,  and  —  unless  I  'in  very  much  mistaken  —  intends 
to  awk  her  to  marry  him  on  the  very  first  opportunity  P 

f.Viu/i/.  1  can't  for  the  life  of  me  understand  what  that  has  to 
do  with  it. 

Nora.  No,  you  wouldn't.  But  all  I  can  say  is  that,  if  Mr. 
BOWATEH  declines  Htnlen  Sweets  unread,  on  your  advice,  he  wil 
never  forgive  you.  And  no  more  will  1  1 

Gerald.  What  ?  NOKA  I  do  you  mean  that  it  'a  Miss  LTDB'S  ? 
Nora.  I  haven't  told  you.  You've  guessed.  Now  do  you  see 
what  mischief  you  may  have  done  P  He  may  have  rejected  it  already. 
My  Aunt  has  gone  over  to  the  post  office  at  Fitcham  to  inquire 
if  there  is  a  letter  for  M.  N.  And  Mr.  Bo  WATER  is  coming  over 
to  lunch.  I  ask  you  what  chance  the  poor  dear  man  will  have 
of  touching  her  heart  if  she  once  knows  he  has  declined  her  novel  ? 
Gerald.  And  of  course  he  has  no  idaa  of  it.  It  's  a  meas,  NORA. 
There  "s  no  denying  it  's  a  mess.  But  I  don't  see  any  way  out 
of  it. 

Nora.  It  mayn't  be  too  late.  You  can  give  him  a  hint  —  put 
kim  on  his  guard. 

Gerald.  I  'd  rather  you  did,  NORA. 

Nora.  How  can  I  betray  my  poor  Aunt's  confidence  P 
would  be  mutt  dishonourable.  But  there  's  no  harm  in 
letting  him  know  what  you've  discovered  by  the  merest  acci- 
dent. .  .  .  Ah,  somebody  has  just  come  in  I  If  it  is  Aunt,  we 
shall  know  by  her  face  whether  she  has  heard  or  not. 
Kezia  (opening  the  door).  Mr.  BOWATER. 


It 


AN  AWKWARD  MISS. 
(The  Kesult  of  not  Remembering.) 

I  MISSBD  the  train.     Right  gallantly  I  fought 

To  get  it,  but  alas !  all  quite  in  vain. 
I  failed  outright,  and  when  I  should  have  caught, 
I  missed  the  train. 

I  wondered  if,  perchance,  'twould  be  a  gain 
To  take  a  wholly  different  line.     This  brought 

No  sort  of  comfort.     Yet  to  make  it  plain, 
I  feel  the  time  has  now  come  when  I  ought 

To  state  quite  clearly  that  what  caused  me  pain 
Was  no  mismanaged  journey.     'Twas  of  thought 
I  missed  the  train. 


On  the   Moors. 


First  Guest  (at  lunch,  to  second  guest,  who  would  talk  during 
he  i/n'rr).  I  wish  you'd  remember  that  we  don't  come  out  to 
hoot  parrots  ? 

Host  (who  has  suffered  bitterly).  Oh,  I  wish  to  goodness  we  hadl 


THE  SEASIDE  I'lIOTOUKAl'HER. 

I  DO  not  mean  the  Kodak-fiend, 

Who  takes  snap-shots  of  ladies  dipping, 

And  gloats  o'er  sundry  views  he  'a  gleaned 
Of  amatory  couples  "  tripping." 

No,  not  these  playful  amateurs 

I  sing  of,  but  the  serious  artist. 
Who  spreads  upon  the  beach  his  lurei, 

What  time  the  season  '•  at  ita  smartest. 

His  tongue  is  glib,  his  terms  are  cheap, 

For  nineiM'iice  while  you  wait  he  '11  take  you  ; 

Posterity  snail,  marv'lling,  keep 

The  "tin-type  "  masterpiece  he  'II  make  you. 


What  though  his  camera  be  antique, 
His  dark-room  just  a  nose-bag  humble, 

What  if  his  tripod  legs  are  weak, 
And  threaten  constantly  to  tumble. 

No  swain  nor  maiden  can  withstand 

His  invitation  arch,  insidious, 
To  pose  al  fresco  on  the  strand — 

His  clientele  are  not  fastidious. 

"  You  are  so  lovely,"  says  the  wretch, 
"  Your  picture  will  be  quite  entrancing  I " 

And  to  the  lady  in  the  sketch 
I  overheard  him  thus  romancing. 

A  PBOGBESSIVE,QUESTION. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH. — In  George  Street,  Richmond,  thi»  week,  I 
lad  a  singular  proof  of  the  superiority  nowadays  of  the  Opposi- 
ng Sex.  There  passed  along  that  tortuous  thoroughfare,  on  a 
liryde,  a  fair-haired  damsel  attired  in  a  man's  cap,  a  man's  shirt, 
and  a  man's  pair  of  knickerbockers  plus  stockings  and  shoes.  The 
ady  also  adopted  the  jockey  style  of  riding.  The  public  and  the 
)olice  looked  on  admiringly.  Now,  had  I  put  on  a  woman's 
M>nnet,  a  woman's  bodice,  and  a  woman's  skirt  under  similar 
circumstances  I  should  have  been  stopped,  arrested,  and  fined. 
The  wheel-rights  of  women  are  evidently  progressing. 

Yours  obediently,  IZION  ROWLBY. 

Tyre  House,  Sidon  Square,  S.W. 

Tip  for  Teetotaler*. 
(Pleasant  Paradox  by  a  Close  Observer. 

THBRB  'a  not  a  toper  whom  you  meet  at  any  public  bar  in  town, 
Vho  when  he  says  "  liquor  up  "  does  not  mean  "  Let  'a  put  liquor 

down ! " 

Vhereby  'tis  seen,  by  every  sober  thinker, 
"he  best  teetotaler  is  the  constant  drinker. 


FROM  OUR  POLITICAL  CORRESPONDENT. — After  hi»  visit  to  St. 
'etersburg  it  is  believed  that  the  Kaiser  will  be  known  as  the 
ierman  Kisser.  The  amount  of  cheek  displayed  was,  on  the  face 
f  it,  a  fine  exhibition  of  Imperial  lip-salve.  It  was  curious,  how- 
ver,  that  NICHOLAS,  after  parting  with  his  guest,  was  heard  to 
nutter,  sotto  voee,  "Thank  goodness,  there  goes  the  Bore- 
tussian  I  "  while  the  versatile  quick-change  monarch  from  the 
pree  whispered  to  his  Ambassador,  Prince  RADOLIN,  "  Beware  of 
(ear's  Greece."  These  expressions  of  mutual  regard  have  been 
much  appreciated  at  Yildiz  Kiosk. 


78 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  21,  1897. 


English  Tourist  (in  the  far  North,  miles  from  anywhere).  "Do  YOU  MEAN  TO  SAY  THAT  YOU  AND  YOUK  FAMILY  LIVE  HERE  ALL  THE 
WINTER  f    WHY,  WHAT  DO  YOU  DO  WHEN  ANY  OF  YOU  ABE  ILL  ?    You  CAN  NEVER  GET  A  DOCTOR  ! " 
Scotch  Shepherd.  "NAB,  SIR.     WE'VE  JUST  TO  DEE  A  NATURAL  DEATH!" 


"CEAD  MILE  FAILTE!" 

(To  an  old  Irish  air  of  'Forty-eight,  adapted  to 
the  dianged  circumstances  of  'Ninety-seven. ) 

Hibernia  sings : — 

Ho !    heart    speaks   to    heart,   and   we  're 
neighbours ! 

Ye  're  free  of  my  hearth  and  my  home  I 
Sure,  let  love  be  the  end  of  our  labours ; 

God  bless  ye  and  prosper  ye — come  I 
Come — out  of  the  guard  of  your  soldiers ; 

Come— in  'mongst  the  children  and  all ; 
And  I  '11  guard  ye  for  sake  of  old  Ireland, 

Till  CONNAIL  himself  gets  a  fall. 
Away  with  the  hatred  of  ages  I 

Come  in — everything  is  your  own ; 
Sure,  I  '11  bow  to  ye,  friends  of  old  Ireland, 

As  I  wouldn't  for  king  on  his  throne. 

God  bless  ye  I    Ye  stand  in  no  dangers 
In  the  midst  of  the  Island  of  Green. 
Come  and   dwell   with   us,    not  as    mere 

strangers, 

But  guests.     Who  cries,  "  God  save  the 
QUEEN  "  ? 

Well,  well,  bygone  woes  have  been  bitter, 
And  loyalty  has  been  made  hard. 

But  love's  inspiration  is  fitter 
Than  hatred's  for  patriot  or  bard. 


Come,  make  your  home  with  us,  and  trust 
us 

(A  thing  ye  have  never  yet  done) ; 
Let  injustice  no  longer  disgust  us, 

And  loyalty,  good  cheer,  and  fun, — 

Things  native  to  Ireland — will  waken, 
And  anger  die  out  of  our  breast. 

As  soon  as  his  hand  we  have  taken, 
A  man,  though  once  foe,  is  our  guest. 

Come  in,  with  a  "  Cead  mile  fdilte  "  *  ; 

Sit  down,  share  our  sorrows  and  joys ; 
To  know  that  with  love  they  may  crown  ye 

Will  gladden  the  hearts  of  the  boys. 
Arrah  t   shake  hands   again  1     Right  good 

fellows 
Ye  '11    find    those    same    boys,    though 

they  're  poor. 

Not  a  man  in  the  land  would  betray  you, 
Or  shut  up  his  heart  or  his  door  I 
*  "  A  hundred  thousand  welcomes ! ' 


IN  THB  HOT  WEATHER,  TOO! — Our  Irre- 
pressible One  (where  are  the  authorities  P) 
writes,  "  Hampshire  made  a  Surrey  exhi- 
bition of  themselves  at  the  Oval  I  " 


To  BE  TAKEN  LITERALLY  AT  KLONDYKE. — 

Auri  sacra  fames. 


THE  STIFLED  STOCKBEOEEE. 

(A  Song  of  Summer.) 

IN  winter  I  wear,  with  dignified  air, 

A  dignified  high  silk  hat, 
With  clothes  well  made  of  a  sombre  shads  ; 

Professional  custom,  that. 

When  winter  has  gone  I  at  times  put  on 

A  bowler  and  suit  of  grey, 
For  people  complain  it 's  hot  in  the  train  ; 

It  frequently  is  in  May. 

But  now,  if  you  please,  with  ninety  degrees 
In  the  shade,  to  toppers  ta,  ta  I 

For  fashion  I  care  not  a  fig,  I  wear 
Pyjamas  and  Panama. 


On  the  Mound  at  Waterloo. 

Mr.  Ephraim  B.  Chunks,  U.S.A. 
(pointing  to  Lion).  Is  this  'ere  animal  the 
Britisher? 

Guide.  No,  Sar,  it  is  ze  Belgic  Lion. 

Mr.  Ephraim  If.  Chunks  (drily).  In- 
deed. Reckon  he  borrowed  the  other 
one's  skin  when  he  set  himself  up  on  this 
potato  heap ! 

[But  the  guide  is  not  a  student  of  Maor. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI.— AUOUBT  21,  1897. 


CEAD  MILE   FAILTE!" 


Miss  ERIN.  "  IT  '8  WELCOME  YE  ARE,  YOUB  ROYAL  HIGHNESSES !     ARRAH,  NOW !  YE  'LL 
BE  TAKIN'  A  HOUSE  OF  YER  OWN  HERE  SOON  ! ! " 


21,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


81 


AUGUST    IN    SCOTLAND. 

Bag  Carrier  (to  Keeper).  "  WHAT  DOES  THE  MAIHTER  AYE  ASK  THAT  BODY  TAB  SHOOT  wi'  HIM  FOR?     HK  CANNA  HIT  A  THINO!' 
Keeper.  "  DOD,  MAN,  I  DAIK  SAY  HE  WIHIIKH  THEY  WAS  A'  LIKE  HIM.    THE  SAME  BIRDS  DOBS  HIM  A'  THROUGH  HIE  SEASON  1" 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

THR  only  fault  my  Haronite  finds  with  Pof-Pourri  from  a 
Sin  a  n  I !u rtl,' n.  (SMITH,  ELDER)  is  the  quite  unnecessary  intro- 
duction of  tin-  foreign  compound  word  in  the  title.  It  is  odious 
enough  in  its  own  country.  Dragged  into  a  Surrey  garden  it 
supplies  a  jarring  note  to  the  restful  hum  as  of  innumerable  bees. 
Mrs.  EARLK  has  been  led  astray  in  this  small  matter  by  anxiety  to 
be  precise.  Strolling  through  her  Surrey  garden  with  keen  eye 
for  faded  leaves,  weeds,  and  slugs,  she  pleasantly  talks  of  a 
multitude  of  things.  Forced  bulbs,  rhubarb  tarts,  sowing 
annuals,  ir  aking  coffee,  winter-gardening,  colour-blindness,  pack- 
ing cut  (lowers,  the  stewing  of  chickens  and  game,  early  rising, 
and  orange-marmalade  are  only  a  few  topics  of  her  pleasant  chat. 
She  is  content  to  talk  without  making  effort  to  write,  a  method 
which,  consciously  or  unconsciously  adopted,  often  leads  to  good 
literature.  The  Surrey  garden  is  comparatively  small  in  area. 
It  cannot  take  us  all  in  to  enjoy  companionship  of  its  charming 
custodian.  Happily,  here  is  the  book,  through  which  ripples  the 
low  voice  of  a  gracious-mannered  gentlewoman,  who  knows  most 
things  about  house  and  garden,  and  modestly  shares  with  the 
stranger  at  her  gate  the  garnered  fruit  of  long  experience. 

The  comedy  in  Goad  Mrs.  Hypocrite  (HuTCHiNBON)  is  so  ex- 
ri'lli'iit  that  my  Baronite  thinks  RITA  would  have  done  well  to 
have  foregone  the  luxury  of  the  tragedy  abruptly  introduced  in 
the  penultimate  chapter.  But  the  earlier  and  much  longer 
part  through  which  the  servant-maid  Tibbie  elbows  her  way  with 
angular  force  is  so  good  that  what  looks  like  a  wanton  fault  of 
^instruction  may  be  forgiven.  Tibbie  is  quite  delightful — when 
studied  in  another  and  distant  household.  In  ones  own  home 
slic  might  pall  upon  tilt'  taste. 

i' n  n  i-li's  advice  to  Persons  About  to  Marry  was,  more  than  a 
generation  ago,  enshrined  in  the  proverbial  philosophy  of  the 
English-speaking  race.  My  Baronite's  advice  to  persons  in 
that  parlous  condition  is  to  read  The  Larramys  (HuTceiNsoN). 
Most  of  the  characters  in  Mr.  GEORGE  FORD'S  powerful  novel 
run,  or  are  driven,  in  couples.  Invariably  they  have  a  bad  time. 
Worst  of  all  is  the  fate  of  the  heroine,  a  handsome,  well-born, 
high-natured  woman,  who  marries  a  fanner.  Early  in  their 
married  life  ?l'i//iu»i  Larramy  informs  Essie  that  "a  man  must  i 


keep  his  wife  in  order,  and  if  he  can't  do  it  any  other  way,  he 
must  thrash  her,  that's  all."  It  is  specially  mentioned  that 
H' ill'in in  thus  "answered  lightly."  It  waa  only  his  fun.  But 
the  nature  from  whose  depths  such  humour  bubbles  is  obviously 
not  of  fine  texture.  How  the  high-born  dame  struggled  with  the 
boor  is  told  with  a  force  and  skill  which,  if  this  be  a  first  essay, 
promises  uncommonly  well.  The  study  of  pig-headed  ptre 
Larramy  is  one  of  the  abundant  good  things  in  t  h.-  book. 

THE  BARON  DB  B.-W. 


THE  BOW  OP  THE  ANTI-LOOLOLLEB. 

Is  there  "  a  winter  of  our  discontent  "  P 

I  know  not,  nor  in  truth  would  care  to  know, 
Because  my  strength  is  not  as  yet  o'erspent , 

So  long  as  I  can  bend,  not  break,  my  stalwart  bow  I 
My  shaft  is  long,  and  feathered  to  the  end 

With  choicest  feathers  of  the  grey  goose  quill. 
It  never  pierced  the  heart  of  any  friend, 

It  never  failed  to  do  a  foeman  ill  I 

Good  honest  bow  I  'tis  yet  the  summer-time. 

Long,  supple,  Englishborn,  and  that  means  true. 
Deft  to  obey  my  will  as  in  your  early  prime, 

A  heart  of  real  oak  beneath  your  bark  of  yew. 
Up  to  the  shoulder  let  me  test  your  might, 

Taught  by  your  nature,  profligate  of  pain, 
I  only  fight  for  might,  and  right,  and  light, 

And  revel  in  the  stubbornness  of  strain  I 

Good  humble  bow!  the  one  poor  dauntless  thing 

That  criticism  at  its  worst  cannot  disarm. 
You  were  not  built  for  bitter  bite  or  sting. 

Only  to  save  and  shield  from  littleness  of  harm  ; 
Only  to  keep  the  vultures  from  the  bonea, 

Only  to  ward  the  jackals  from  the  prey, 
Only  to  thwart  the  slingers  of  the  stones 

Picked  from  the  mud  To-day  as  Yesterday  I 


"CALLED  BACK."— The  Austrian  Envoy,  CALL,"  retired  "  from  Sofia. 


82 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  21,  1897. 


Lunatic  (suddenly  popping  his  head  over  wall).  "WHAT  ARE  YOU  DOING  THERE?" 
Brown.  " FISHING."        Lunatic.  "CAUGHT  ANYTHING  1"        Brown.  "No." 
Lunatic.  "How  LONG  HAVE  YOU  BKEN  THERE t"        Brown.  "Six  HOURS." 
Lunatic.   "  COKE  INSIDE  ! " 


BY  THE  GOLDEN  SANDS. 

(Mr.  Punch's  Special  Correspondence.) 

Swanage. — This  is  a  spot  remarkable  for 
possessing  but  little  foliage  and  an  enor- 
mous Model  of  the  Earth.  To  compensate 
for  the  absence  of  trees,  lettuces  are 
«ingularly  prolific  in  the  Isle  of  Purbeck, 
and  the  model  in  question  affords  a  ready 
means  of  conveying  instruction  at  no  ex- 
pense to  the  visiting  child.  Corfe  Castle, 
Studland  Bay,  and  "Old  Harry"  (minus 
his  defunct  wife),  are  as  attractive  as  the 
lobsters  for  which  the  pretty  Dorsetshire 
watering  place  is  so  renowned.  In  some 
towns,  they  swear  by  unmentionable 


people.     At   Swanage,   they  all  swear   by 

BURT. 

Margate. — Aa  usual,  this  Koh-i-Noor  of 
Kent  is  sparkling  with  splendour.  A 
famous  high-low  comedian,  renowned 
for  his  spontaneous  and  side-splitting 
"  wheezes,  remarked  yesterday  that  the 
only  black  thing,  bar  the  "  Niggers,"  about 
the  place  is  the  jetty.  His  quip  was 
naturally  greeted  with  hurricanes  of 
laughter  and  copious  doses  of  restorative 
Scottish  whiskey.  The  Aristocrats  ot 
Cliftonville,  aa  well  as  the  humbler  but 
possibly  more  jovial  denizens  of  Margate 
proper  and  improper,  have  no  reason  to 
complain  of  that  genial  doctor  (not  of 
Irish  extraction)  known  as  The  O'Zone. 


His  recipes  sniff  of  the  briny.  Miss  UK- 
LINDA  PLANTAUENET,  the  well-known  serio- 
comique,  Madame  WRIGGLINI,  the  famous 
ccntortionist,  Baron  BUFFAHD,  the  re- 
nowned baritone,  and  Chevalier  MACCA- 
HONI,  the  decorated  tenor,  are  among  our 
most  noted  patrons.  The  Flagstaff  is  in 
superb  condition,  as  also  are  the  "  Aunt 
Sallies." 

Minehead. — Where  can  we  find  a  Plume 
of  Feathers  'i  Only  at  Minehead,  where  a 
personage  not  unknown  in  the  precincts 
of  Whitefriars  supplies  golf  and  hunters, 
with  many  other  luxuries.  We  only  sug- 
gest a  rhyme  to  "  whistle  "  and  "  thistle  " 
to  suggest  a  solution  of  the  conundrum. 
Whence  the  name  of  this  favoured  spot? 
A  correspondent  writes  that  an  English 
monarch  (was  it  HENRY  THE  FOURTH?), 
while  hanging  brigands  and  other  caitiff) 
in  the  vicinity,  exclaimed  after  a  hard  day's 
work.  "  Mine  head  doth  ache.  Don't  stir," 
and  forthwith  bestowed  the  fiefs,  &c.,  on 
the  .LUTTRELL  of  the  day  for  his  singular 
sympathy  with  the  King's  malady.  Hence 
Minehead  and  Dunster  Castle.  We  only 
repeat  this  legend  as  a  local  on  dit,  as  the 
French  have  it.  The  great  charm  of  Mine- 
head  is  that  the  stranger  never  knows 
whether  he  be  in  Somerset  or  Devon. 
The  inhabitants  on  both  sides  of  the  border 
drink  cider  and  speak — what  shall  we  call 
it  ? — Lorna  Doonish ? 

L'enzance.  —  There  are  no  pirates  here 
now.  They  were  killed  by  Mr.  W.  S. 
GILBERT  and  Sir  ARTHUR  SULLIVAN,  and 
have  most  of  them  become  churchwardens 
and  sidesmen.  Those  who  have  not  been 
converted  have  apparently  developed  into 
hotel  and  lodging  house  keepers,  and  no 
longer  present  pistols,  but  bills.  They  are 
an  amiable  race,  and  are  very  proud  of  St. 
Michael's  Mount  and  Mount's  Bay.  Nia- 
gara, the  Pyramids,  the  ruins  of  Baalbec, 
and  the  remains  of  Nineveh,  are  not  in  it 
with  St.  Michael's  and  the  Mounts.  They 
are  unique.  Only  herrings  or  mackerel 
could  be  more  belauded.  A  London  man 
came  down  last  Wednesday  fortnight, 
and  talked  about  St.  Paul's  Cathedral. 
"Heaven  help  thee,"  cried  a  staunch 
man  of  the  Grand  Old  Duchy,  "  Go  to 
Truro  !  "  And  he  was  justified,  inasmuch 
as  the  cucumber  season  is  now  in  full 
blast. 

Ryde. — Now  and  again  you  come  across 
a  Person  who  objects  to  the  long  voyage 
down  the  Pier  at  Ryde.  He  (but  it  is 
gentrally  She)  must  be  curiously  consti- 
tuted. On  landing  from  the  Portsmouth 
boat  is  there  not  a  "  Rest  and  be  thankful  " 
kiosque  right  before  the  traveller's 
eyeballs,  with  copious  seagulls  flitting 
hither  and  thither  as  plentiful  as  grouse 
on  a  well-furnished  Scottish  moor?  What 
more  enchanting  scene  could  be  expected  ? 
He  or  She  may  complain  of  the  tolls,  but 
does  not  the  house  of  the  Royal  Victoria 
Yacht  Club  compensate  for  the  disburse- 
ment of  a  few  paltry  coppers,  or  rather, 
bronzes?  Ryde,  moreover,  has  one  great 
advantage  over  many  watering  places.  It 
is  always  possible  to  go  anywhere  from 
Ryde.  The  entertainment  at  the  Pier 
Head  may  not  unjustly  be  compared  to 
the  harmonious  luxury  of  the  Royal 
Italian  Opera,  and  at  the  neighbouring 
village  of  Sea  View  shoes  and  stockings 
are  apparently  unknown.  Prawns  in  Ryde 
are  apparently  often  confounded  with  our 
glorious  and  gorgeous  pink  shrimps. 

Ramsgate. — Mr.  FRITH,  R.A.,  once  im- 
mortalized Ramsgate,  that  is  to  say.  if 
any  immortalization  were  possible.  You 
can  take  Ramsgate  in  two  ways.  First,  as 


'AUOVHT  21,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


a  rollicking,  frolicking,  jump-about,  sand- 
hopping,  and  thoroughly  earthly  play- 
ground ;  and  again,  when  you  have  climbed 
the  cliffs  and  looked  down  on  the  harbour, 
a*  quite  another  kind  of  refuge  from  the 
din  of  London,  or  Manchester,  or  Bir- 
mingham. It  isn't  exactly  heaven  on  a  hot 
'l:i\  mi  tin,  |  >,:ime  cliffs,  but  Mr.  CI.AIIK 
Hutw-Ei.l.'s  pen  would  bo  needed  to  tell  in 
appropriate,  not  to  say  nautical,  language 
the  aspect  of  the  English  Channel  under 
such  circumstances.  On  the  east  side,  the 
inhabitants,  being  proud,  call  their  com- 
bination of  chimney-pots  St.  Lawrenee-on- 
Sen.  Nobody  minds  the  assumption,  be- 
cause they  have  a  capital  hotel  with  most 
wondrous  bathing  accommodation.  In- 
deed, it  is  on  record  that  Prince  HAVKM- 
OFFBKY  recently  arrived,  and  on  inquiring 
whether  he  could  have  an  Iceberg  Bath, 
was  met  with  the  response,  "Certainly. 
Sir ;  would  you  nrefer  Canadian  or  Si- 
boriam  snow?"  The  samphire  at  Pegwell 
Bay  is  a  grand  crop. 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 


A  Vixit,or  at  a  flinin  Hotel,  madhi  en/imaurerl 
of  a  fair  Widow,  caul  invariably  separated 
from  li*r  at  the  taHe  d'ltUte,  addresses  an 
fijrpeal  to  her  on  the  bfts.k  fif  the  Menu. 

I  DO  not  like  the  taW*  d'hr'itf, 

With  strident  roise  and  rampant  crowd, 
With  clattering  plates'  discordant  note, 

That  louder  gets  and  yet  more  loud. 
I  do  not  like  the  napkinned  loons 

Who  thrust  strange  dishes  'neath  one's 

nose  : 
I  hate  the  rattle  ot  the  spoons, 

And  long  for  simple  fare's  repose  ! 

But  martyr-like  I  must  attend 

This  Walpurgis  of  flesh  and  fowl, 
Thnt  never  seems  to  have  an  erd, 

While  inws  are  working  cheek  by  jowl, 
Amid  a  Babel  bura  of  voice 

That  would  confound  a  Polyglot. 
And  yet  I  ioin  this  throng  from  choice, 

For  you  'd  be  here  if  I  were  not  I 

You  like  to  hear  the  touring  cad 

Piseant  upon  his  cycling  feats, 
Or  list  to  tales  of  Kur  and  Bad 

Tim  curate  yonder  oft  repeats. 
With  smiles  you  lend  a  ready  ear 

To  fable  lyred  in  Yankee  twang, 
Yon  have  a  liking,  it  is  elenr. 

For  scandal  told  in  Pall  Mall  slang  I 

You  are  not  bored  by  stale,  drear  news 

Such  as  that  German  loves  to  bring  ; 
The  tragic  Frenchman's  comic  muse 

In  sympathy  to  you  can  sing. 
You  'r?  friendly,  too,  with  all  your  sex, 

The  long-time  spinsters,  new-made  wives, 
For  youth  and  age  von  'ye  nods  and  becks, 

Amid  the  din  of  forks  and  knives  I 

My  nnpetite  is  dead  and  fled 

(Oh.  Kfllrfr!  stay  your  constant  hand), 
And  I  would  hie  me  off  to  bed 

But  for  that  beastly  Teuton  band  I 
Here  is  the  rea-son  —  miles  away  — 

At  least,  so  it  now  seems  to  me  — 
My  chair  is  placed  from  day  to  day 

From  where  I  know  it  ought  to  be  ! 

You  Ml  guess,  of  course,  my  meaning  now, 

And  why  I  hate  the  table  d'hritr. 
You  '11  know  why  I  must  knit  my  brow, 

A  starving  Selkirk,  quite  remote  I 
I  ask,  in  pity  ease  my  pain  1 

And  fill  once  more  my  empty  plate. 
Do,  darling,  say  "I  will"  again, 

And  dine  with  me  then,  tete-a-tete! 


READY-MADE    COATS(-OF-ARMS> ;    OR,    GIVING    'EM    FITS! 


PRINCE  KUMAK  Sim  RANJITSINHJI,  DIKE  OF  SUSSEX. 

Arms  :  Quarterly;  1st,  sable  a  s'arof  India  radiant  in  splendour:  2nd,  on  a  field  vert  several  lung 
lops  voll")ed  and  despatched  proper  to  the  boundary;  3rd,  on  a  ground  senu'e  with  centuries  under  an 
•\eraldic  pavilion  a  champion  of  renown  reguardant  in  envy  h  -arded  to  the  full  and  inclined  to  cmbon- 
ioint;  4th,  two  canards  coni  lined  or  double  duck  proper  collared  with  an  eastern  coronet  wauling 
mplojmont.  Crtst :  An  indian  panther  of  agility  capped  and  sashed  azure  glancing  furtively  to  Ing 
inister.  Supporter*  :  Two  umpi  -es  smocked  and  haMlud  for  distinction  proper.  Strand  Motto :  "  Ad 
anga  runcm  ibit  ranjrit  sinitr." 


THE  OLD  BAT. 

(To  the  Tune  of  Tennyson's  "  Brook,") 
The  Chamoion  solilo/jtiisttli :  — 

i  VR  faced  them  all,  from  SHAW  to  HEARNK, 
From  SOUTHERTON  to  CUTTELL  ; 

3POFFORTH  at  me  had  many  a  turn — 
A  trundler  keen  and  subtle  ! 

RMMETT  to  me  has  hurled  'em  down, 
Kent  Wn.i  HIIKR,  Yorkshire  FREEMAN, 

With  STEEL  of  amateur  renown, 
"The  Terror"  and  "The  Demon." 

But  still  I  'm  game  for  fast  or  slow, 
Old  hand  or  youngster  clever ; 

For  Bats  may  come  and  Bats  may  go, 
But  I  go  on  for  ever  I 

I  chatter  over  good  old  days, 
Like  LANO,  or  "The  Old  Buffer"; 

But  to  let  dust  pile  on  my  bays 
Is  what  I  cannot  suffer. 

To  stand  out  yet  my  heart  would  fret. 

The  grand  old  game  I  '11  follow  ; 
And  on  my  day  when  I  'm  well  set, 

I  lick  the  newcomes  hollow. 

Tho  chatterers  say,  "  Retire !  "    Oh  !  no. 

Old  ties  I  'm  loth  to  sever ; 
For  Bats  may  come  and  Bats  may  go, 

But  I  go  on  for  ever  I 


Though  I  am  stout,  to  get  me  out 

Is  not  such  easy  sailing. 
When  I  appear  the  Iu»ty  shout 

Shows  that  my  fame  s  not  failing. 

Mv  century  still  I  'm  game  to  make, 

Though  slower  I  may  travel ; 
New  tricks  of  pitch,  and  pace,  and  break, 

"  The  Old  'un  "  will  not  gravel. 

I  take  'em  all  on,  fast  or  slow, 

"  Express  "  or  "  'ticer  "  clever ; 
Foi  Bats  may  come  and  Bats  may  go, 

But  I  go  on  for  ever  1 
I  steal  short  runs  by  little  plots, 

I  "  slide  "  'twixt  point  ana  cover ; 
I  tie  their  bowling  up  in  knots, 

And  score  from  every  over. 
I  drive,  I  cut,  I  snick,  I  glance, 

Turf-skimming  like  a  swallow  ; 
I  lead  the  field  a  pretty  dance 

My  changeful  hits  to  follow. 

MC-LAREN,  "  RASJI,"  grand  young  stars, 
Your  play  the  veteran  pleases! 

But  still  he  loves— and  pray  what  bars  ? — 
To  "  lag  "  about  the  creases. 

Superfluous?       Thanks,     boys,    for    that 
"  No ! ! !  " 

Some  chatterers  are  foo  clever ; 
For  Bats  may  come  and  Bats  may  go, 

But  I  go  on  for  ever! 


84 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGI-ST  21,  1897. 


SHOP." 


Hostess  (to  our  Pet  Author,  who  has  just  spent  a  happy  couple  of  hours 
describing  his  latest  and  greatest  work).  "  GOOD-BYE,  DEAR  MR.  EGO- 
SMITH.  COMB  AGAIN  SOON.  WE  PROMISE  KOT  TO  MRSTION  YOUR 
BOOKS.  You  MUST  BS  so  TIRED  ! " 


CRICKETESE. 

("English  as  she  is  spoke  "  by  the  Sportive  Reporter.) 

OH,  wonderful  world  of  the  Wielders  of  Willow  1 

As  seen  from  the  Press  Box  where  poets  foregather  I 
Our  great-little  Laureate,  prone  on  his  pillow, 

His  Pegasus — stabled — and  all  in  a  lather 
With  spurring  rhetorical,  hot,  allegorical, 

Really  must  envy  the  cricket  recorder, 
Who — minu^  the  Malmsey — the  stream  metaphorical 

Pumps — at  a  penny  a  line  too — to  order  1 
Sweet  and  sonorous,  and  sesquipedalian, 

Style  of  all  styles,  Pateresque,  periphrastic. 
Is  his  who  gives  odds  to  the  wordiest  Australian, 

To  every  Parnassian  influence  plastic  : 
He  for  the  big  polysyllables  stipulates. 

GRACE  does  not  bat,  no,  he  ''steers  to  the  boundary  "  ; 
RICHARDSON  bowl  ? — nay,  "  the  sphere  he  manipulates," 

Nothing  that 's  lengthy  and  sounding  is  found  awry. 
BHOOKWELL  don't  "  block,"  he  "  negotiates  straight  ones  "  ; 

ABEL  won't  "  drive  "  at  good  balls,  he  "  dispatches  "  them 
READ  does  not  "  cut,"  he  "  lams  into  the  late  ones," 

STODDAHT  "accounts  for  the  skyers,"  not  catches  them. 
MCLAREN'S  first  hit  is  not  "breaking  his  duck  "  only, 

No,  'tis  "  cementing  the  partnership  "  skilfully. 
SHREWSBURY'S  slip  is  not  pretty  bad  luck  only, 

It  is  "Dame  Fortune  entreating  him  wilfully." 
GUNN  does  not  add  to  the  score,  not  a  bit  of  it  I 

He's  "instrumental  in  swelling  totality." 
SUGG,  if  he  makes  a  sensational  nit  of  it, 

"Gives  'em  a  taste  of  his  old  Titan  quality." 
Pity  rhetorical  roundaboutation 

Can't  be  confined  to  sensations  spectacular  1 
Pity  the  dear,  good  old  game  of  our  nation 

Can't  be  described  in  the  good  old  vernacular  I 


THE  BEST  UPHOLDER  OF  THE  UNION  JACK. — The  Union  Jack-tar. 


TREASURE  TROVE. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH,— As  I  know  that  von  tako  an  interest  in 
all  matters  domestic,  I  am  sure  yon  would  like  to  hear  about  our 
Little  Household  Treasure.  She  camo  to  us  with  a  very  noble 
character,  written  by  the  wife  of  an  eminent  clergyman  (and  rural 
dean),  and  really  this  lady  may  be  said  to  have  dipped  her  pen 
into  milk  and  honey,  so  beautifully  wore  the  virtues  of  our  Little 
Treasure  described.  You  must  know,  that  being  childless  and 
living  in  a  small  cottage,  my  wife  and  I  have  no  retainers  with 
the  exception  of  the  Gardener-Boots-Knifo-and-AVindow-Cleaner 
•uid  the  Little  Treasure  herself.  The  G.-B.-K.-and-W.  man  is 
one  of  the  most  unsavoury  and  besotted  of  mortals.  He  cannot 
write,  and  has  a  regard  for  strong  liquor,  which  is  probably  con- 
genital, since  his  parents,  either  singly  or  coupled,  were  constantly 
brought  to  the  notice  of  the  local  magistrates  for  breaches  of 
public-house  discipline,  and  their  son  and  heir  has  not  failed  to 
keep  up  the  family  reputation.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Little 
Treasure  is  of  the  Teetotal  persuasion,  and  has  been  educated  at 
a  Board  School  with  that  disregard  to  cost  so  dear  to  the  ratepayer 
up-to-date.  She  cannot,  it  is  true,  speak  her  own  language  with 
the  accuracy  of  Dr.  JOHNSON  or  Lord  MACAULAY,  but  she 
possesses  a  smattering  of  French.  I  suppose,  inasmuch  as  T 
have  missed  certain  works  in  the  Gallic  tongue  from  my  book- 
shelves— works,  moreover,  not  without  a  suspicion  of  cayenne 
pepper  in  their  construction.  But  this  literary  larceny  I  would 
readily  forgive  did  the  Little  Treasure  answer  to  her  description. 
The  wife  of  the  eminent  clergyman  (and  rural  dean)  describes 
this  exceptional  handmaid  as  the  Model  Girl  of  the  district,  in 
fact,  but  for  the  expense,  there  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  the 
Board  School  would  have  been  abolished  in  order  to  prove  that  so 
rare  a  flower  should  have  been  cultivated  in  a  more  select  nursery 
garden.  Nevertheless,  I  have  ventured  to  draw  up  the  following 
Table  of  Comparison.  The  Little  Treasure  is,  according  to  the 
spouse  of  the  eminent  divine  (and  rural  dean),  said  to  be 


1.  Thoroughly  honest— to  be 
trusted  with  thousands  of  pounds 
(of  what  not  stated),  and  inno- 
cent of  the  value  of  precious 
metal  and  stones. 


2.  So  clean  in  all  her  habits 
that  the  Bishop  of  the  diocese 
once  compared  her  to  the  Pool 
of  Siloam. 

3.  So  devoted  to  early  rising 
that  any  lark  matched  against 
her  would  infallibly  return  to 
its  uncomfortable  resting-place, 
the    "  watery    nest,"    defeated 
and  disgraced. 

4.  Willing    to    do   anything. 
Never   so    happy   as   when    at 
work.      Especially    busy    with 
her  needle.     Never  breaks  any- 
thing.    Has  a  special  knack  of 
polishing  silver  ware.     Always 
carries   the  plate-basket  up   to 
bed  with  her  at  night. 


1.  She  is,   according  to  me, 
hopelessly  addicted  to  petty  lar- 
ceny— her  requisitions  ranging 
from  strawberry  jam  to  pickled 
onions,    and  from   stray  pieces 
of  bronze  to   small   articles  of 
jewellery. 

2.  So  begrimed  as  to  her  face 
and  hands,  that  the   G.-B.-K., 
&c.,  could  readily  grow  mustard 
and  cress  on  her  skin. 

3.  Incapable   of    stirring   till 
the  milkman,  baker,  and  green- 
grocer have  piled  their  produce 
on  our  doorstep.     Is  suspected 
of  the  assassination  of  our  prize 
Cochin  China  rooster. 

4.  Grumbles  at  pulling  up  a 
Venetian  blind.     Has  spoiled  all 
our  best  table-cloths  by  cutting 
bread   on   them.      We   used   to 
have  three  dinner  and  two  china 
tea-services.     Some    few   sorely 
wounded    members   still    exist. 
Spoons  getting  very  scarce,  and 
survivors  dirtier  day  by  day. 


Such,  Sir,  is  a  precis  of  the  difference  between  the  opinion  of 
the  wife  of  the  eminent  cleric  (and  rural  dean)  and  my  own. 
The  latter  is  not,  perhaps,  wholly  favourable  to  the  Little 
Treasure.  You  will  probably  say,  "  Why  not  give  her  warn- 
ing !*  "  I  have  done  so  at  least  twenty  times,  but  she  always 
comes  back  again,  sometimes  disguised  as  a  blonde,  sometime;.--  as 
a  brunette,  sometimes  red  and  sometimes  black,  but  unfailingly 
with  the  same  delightful  testimonial  to  her  virtues  from  the 
sacerdotal  lady.  Is  it  impossible  to  import  into  Great  Britain, 
for  household  purposes,  the  patient  and  industrious,  but  alas ! 
heathen  Chinee  ?  I  verily  believe  that  others  beside  myself 
would  prefer  the  Celestial  creatures  to  the  Little  Treasures  pro- 
duced by  the  unwholesome  atmosphere  of  our  educational  green- 
houses. Yours,  longing  for  a  motor-servant, 

The  Eaves,  Swallowbury.  MAKTIN  MAcSwiFT. 


Auocrr  28,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


85 


READY-MADE    COATS(-OF-ARMS> ;    OR,    GIVING    'EM    FITS! 


HALL  CAINB,  lax  LORD  MANXMAN. 

Arms ;  Quarteily  ;  Ut,  three  human  le^s  cf  r.joined  at  the  thigh  and  fl"xed  in  a  triangle  garnished  ar  d 
hygi«nically  knickered  proper  running  (raly  through  several  editions :  2nd,  under  a  flouruh  proper  of  trum- 
pets &  Christian  in  broadcloth  wouiint  p*le-me'le  from  a  printing-press ;  3rd,  sable  a  scapegoat  preceded  ii, 
triumph  by  a  bondnman  more  or  less  accurately  portrayed;  4.h,  two  manx  cats  passant  with  sensational 
tales  sported  and  displayed  specially  contributed  by  the  present  holder  of  the  title.  Crest :  An  author  of 
distinction  aesthetically  habittd  proper,  charged  in  nutn  riidan  -e  with  a  sprig  of  the  ma(n,x  beerbohm 
effron  ie  for  reclame.  SitpporUri :  Dexter,  an  ancient  statetman  vtid  of  guile  inveigled  drawn  and 
exploited  to  the  full;  sinister,  a  dignitary  of  the  church  radiant  in  approbation  scenting  purple  patohe- 
for  delivery  in  a  rural  diocese  anayed  proper  to  tbe  nines.  Second  Motto :  "  And  the  harvest  shall  be 
mine." 

[We  understand  from  a  purely  casual  chat  with  the  Artist-Author  of  the  above  Arms  that  he  is  so 
prostrated  \>«  the  "  colossal "  work  entailed  in  its  production  that  he  is  unable  for  the  moment  to  grant 
more  than  three  or  four  accidental  interviews  to  itie  pre»  per  day.  Ail  allusions  have  had  to  be  mwt 
carefully  verified  and  reported  on  bv  experts.  Sensational  and  blood-curdling  details  of  the  next  draw- 
ing of  the  series  may  he  obtained  at  his  private  address.] 


DIARY  OF  A  WOULD-BE  CONTRIBUTOR. 

Sunday. — Completed  my  sixty-page  ar- 
ticle upon  "  Feather-Weights  considered 
from  an  Antediluvian  Point  of  View,"  and 
posted  it  to  the  Quarterly  Entertainer. 

Mondnii. —  Just  got  a  recent  number 
of  the  Author.  See  that  editors  are  bound 
to  return  MS.  Wire  to  the  editor  of  the 
Quarterly  Entertainer  to  know  what  has 
become  of  my  paper  on  "  Feather- Weights 
considered,  <fcc." 

Tuesday.— Reply  from  editor  (by  post) 
that  there  is  no  recollection  of  the  receipt 
of  my  MS.  at  office  of  Q.  E.  Too  indig- 
nant for  further  action. 

Wednesday. — Have  consulted  a  solicitor. 
He  is  distinctly  of  opinion  that  I  have  a 
case  for  untold  damages,  or  at  any  rate  to 
secure  a  verdict  covering  costs. 

Thursday. — Down  to  the  office  of  the 
Quarterly  Entertainer  to  demand  my 
rights.  Altercation  with  attendant  in  the 
hall,  who  attempts  to  prevent  my  en- 
trance. Force  my  way  into  the  editor's 
room,  and  find  its  occupant  surrounded  by 
voluntary  contributors  asking  for  their 
papers- — or  his  blood.  Editor  declines  to 
give  either.  Ultimately  am  ejected  with 
the  rest  by  the  assistant-deputy-junior-sub- 
editor  and  anxilnrv  chiioker-oiit. 


Friday. — Return  to  the  office  of  the 
Quarterly  Entertainer  with  my  solicitor, 
and  freely  distribute  writs.  Find  other 
would-be  contributors  engaged  in  the  same 
occupation. 

Saturday. — Last  visit  to  the  bureau  of 
my  adopted  periodical.  Try  to  see  the 
editor,  to  talk  matters  over  quietly,  and 
then  come  to  a  peaceable  arrangement. 
Find  that  the  editor  is  away.  Ask  for_his 
private  address.  After  some  difficulty,  it  is 
given  to  me.  Owing  to  the  strain  caused 
by  the  suggestion  that  all  MS.  should  be 


returned, 


editor   has   gone — for   thf 


sake  of  his  health — to  Colney  Hatch. 


A  SYNONYM. 

(With  a  difference.) 

No  matter  though  they  cough  and  choke  ; 

While  "  gentlemen  "  presume 
Outside  an  omnibus  to  smoke — 

Lndies  ran  onlv  '"fume." 


At  Boulogne. 

Mrs.  Smffthi  (on  her  honeymoon).  Isn't 
it  funny,  ARCHIBALD,  to  see  so  many 
foreigners  about  ?  And  all  talking  French  ! 


BY  THE  GOLDEN  SANDS. 

(Mr.  Punch's  Special  Correspondence  ) 

Mirringlmm. — Many  tourists  have  never 
heard  of  this  favoured  East  Coast  r<-sort , 
where  Norfolk  jackets  and  Sandringham 
boots  arc,  as  they  say  in  Arctic  circles,  dt 
riqvur.  Nevertheless,  Shcritighani  is  like 
the  seaweed  or  the  b:\\  trw,  flourishing. 
Soiiii'  very  exciting  contests  h»vi>  ri-ct-ntlv 
taken  place  on  the  links,  and  there  has 
been  a  brisk  competition  at  the  Library 
fur  the  latest  works  of  fiction.  It  is  whis- 
pered that  an  eminent  member  of  the 
Faculty  is  engaged  on  perfecting  a  system, 
whereby  bottled  Shenngham  air  can  be 
forwarded  to  London  and  the  great  manu- 
facturing centres.  But  those  with  sound 
minds  in  unsound  bodies  will  take  un- 
limited draughts  at  the  fountain  head. 
Billiard  tables  in  grand  going  order. 

Scarborough. — The  Spa  is  in  full  swing, 
and  the  pony-chaise  jockeys  in  their  gay 
jackets  are  racing  with  Time  all  day  long. 
Why  is  it  that  these  jockeys  cannot  thrive 
anywhere  else  ?  They  have  tried  them  at 
Bridlington,  and  several  neighbouring 
resorts,  but  in  a  very  short  time  their  gay 
jackets  get  faded  and  their  wearers  forlorn. 
Only  at  Scarborough  can  these  humming- 
birds on  horseback  be  seen  to  perfection. 
The  Russian  Prince,  who  came  last  week 
tD  drink  the  waters  of  the  Spa,  was  doubt- 
less disappointed  when  he  found  that  the 
"  Kur "  was  not  on  hand,  but,  inasmuch 
as  he  and  his  resplendent  lady  have,  not- 
withstanding their  aqueous  disappoint- 
ment, continued  their  sojourn,  it  may  be 
safely  asserted  that  the  Queen-Empress  of 
the  Yorkshire  seaboard  possesses  attrac- 
tions superior  to  those  of  the  Baltic  or  the 
Caspian.  Among  the  cricketers  of  the 
neighbourhood  there  is  some  talk  of 
erecting  a  life-size  statue  to  Mr.  C.  1. 
THORNTON,  the  beneficent  batsman  to  be 
represented  with  a  willrw  in  his  right  hand 
and  a  pot  of  jam  balanced  on  a  bun  in  his 
left.  A  party  of  Edinburgh  antiquaries 
have  recently  arrived  to  investigate  the 
connection  between  Robin  Hood's  Bay  and 
the  bold  outlaw  of  Sherwood  Forest.  The 
consumption  of  Scotch  whiskey  has  conse- 
quently increased.  A  municipal  bye-law 
for  the  prevention  of  importing  the  Mac- 
Hamburg,  Glen  Bremen,  and  Loch  Ant- 
werp brands  is  earnestly  demanded  by  the 
explorers. 

En  Blanc. 

Mrs.  Simpleton  Cheville.  I  see  that 
white  stockings  are  very  much  worn  now. 
Affable  Shop-u-alker.  Yes,  madam.  You 
see  that  on  a  muddy  day  they  show  the 
splashes  of  dirt  so  easily,  and  that 's  a 
great  advantage  to  the  wearer. 

[Mrs.  S.  C.  immediately  buys  a  dozen  ptirs 
of  lartral-hutd  Kate, 


At   Oaten  d. 

Biffles.  (to  TIFFLM).  In  this  bloomin' 
country  everyone 's  a  prince  or  a  marquis 
or  a  baron  or  a  nob  of  some  sort,  so  I  've 
just  shoved  you  down  in  the  Visitors'  Book 
as  Lord  HARTHUH  MACOSSIAN,  and  me  as 
the  Dock  of  FITZPAZZLEM  ! 

Tiffles  Well,  now,  that  is  n  lark !  What  'd 
our  missuses  sayP 

[And  what  did  their  "Misnaes"  say  when  B. 
and  T.,  held  in  paten  fry  the  hotel  proprietor 
(charging  aristocratic  prices),  had  to  write 
home  to  Ptclrham  Ryt  for  considerable  ad- 
vanceifrom  the  family  treasuriett 


vol.  cxiir. 


86 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  28,  1897. 


KLONDYKE! 


AUGUST  28,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


DARBY  JONES  AT  YORK. 

HoMiirKBii  SIR;  —  The  ancient  strong- 
bold  of  the  archbishops  of  the  North,  the 
universal  emporium  of  those  pon-ine  deli- 
cacies which  tliu  ignorant  l''r>'iirh  invari- 
ably describe  as  j<nn'»<ii<  ilr  Ymck,  and 
the  headquarters  of  the  Truculent  Tyke, 
the  city  "pleasantly  situated"  (as  the 
guide  books  have  it)  on  the  rivers  Foss 
and  Ouse,  is  to  n  y  mind  chiefly  remark- 
able for  the  stretch  of  Turf  somewhat 
imiuspicioiisly  known  as  Knavesmire.  For 
acme  occult  reason  the  Romans  preferred 
to  style  the  town  Eboracum  ;  and  therefore 
his  grape  the  prelate  signs  himself  "  Ebor," 
uncl  the  race  of  the  August  meeting  is 
termed  the  Great  Ebor  Handicap.  A  not 
illiterate  friend  declares  that  the  appella- 
tion was  derived  from  a  man  culled  EBOB 
the  Keen  Knight,  whose  wife  knocked  a 
nail  into  the  skull  of  a  foreign  military 
commander  the  while  he  was  sleeping  off 
the  effects  of  a  most  potent  draught  of 
something  stronger  than  water.  As  I  am 
no  Historian,  my  learned  friend  may,  like 
a  certain  waggish  barrister,  have  been 
pulling  my  leg.  If  so.  he  may  go  on  haul- 
ing, for  I  believe  that  my  shanks  are 
attached  to  my  body  with  tolerable  secu- 
rity against  accident  and  misadventure. 

Wafting  aside  this  persiflage  (ever  since 
mud  Prix,  I  cannot  help  drifting 
into  Gallic  verse),  I  beg  you  to  believe, 
honoured  Sir,  that  a  pleasanter  plac«  of 
sojourn  than  York  does  not  exist  in  HEII 
M.UKSIY'H  dominions.  I  look  upon  the 
magnificent  cathedral  with  awe,  but  I  gaze 
upon  the  splendid  breakfasts  provided  at 
the  hotels  with  unconcealed  delight.  In 
the  South  we  are  supposed  to  be  gour- 
mands (Paris  again !)  of  the  first  water  if 
we  consume,  say,  a  haddock,  a  rasher  of 
bacon,  and  a  couple  of  eggs  to  our  morn- 
ing meal.  At  York,  the  honest  waiter  or 
dainty  parlourmaid  stares  at  you  with 
astonishment  if,  in  addition  to  raiding 
the  warm  food,  you  do  not  make  the 
fiercest  onslaught  on  to  the  succulent  cold 
viaiuls  with  which  the  sideboard  is  reeking 
— I  was  going  to  say  groaning,  but  side- 
boards in  prose  only  reek.  And  the  York- 
shire grouse!  Ah,  Sir!  he  is  a  bird  to  be 
thought  well  of  in  any  Ornithological 
Happy  Family.  Mr.  ARCHIBALD  STCART- 
WORTLEY  has  frequently  shewn  him  on 
Canvas  with  a  marvellous  accuracy  of 
brush  and  gun  combined,  but  associated 
with  chipped  potatoes  let  him  smoke  for 
me  on  a  Dish.  Mellowed  by  a.  bottle  of 
choice  Burgundy,  the  Yorkshire  grouse 
flies  away  from  his  cousins  over  the  Border. 
But  this  Gastronomic  Elegy  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  question  of  Knavesmire, 
where  the  Aristocracy  of  the  largest  county 
in  England  foregather  with  the  unanimity 
of  Penguins  in  the  uninhabited  isles  of  the 
Southern  Pacific.  As  my  esteemed  friend 
Baron  VON  KINKLRSTEIN,  Knight  of  the 
Order  of  the  Cygnet  of  Mesopotamia,  once 
remarked,  "At  York  you  do  not  know 
which  to  admire  most;  the  ladies  with  two 
legs  or  the  ladies  with  four."  He  was 
considered  a  bit  of  a  Bard  in  the  Father- 
land, but,  I  regret  to  say,  so  misused  his 
talents  in  orthography  that  he  is  now 
being  entertained  by  our  Queen-Empress 
regardless  of  expense.  But,  with  all  his 
faults,  he  was  decidedly  superior  to  that 
Italian-Swiss  waiter  who,  callous  to  one  8 
feelings,  made  hold  to  tell  me  that  if 
Yorkshire  only  produced  decent  cheese,  it 
would  be  worth  visiting.  And  the  boast 
had  just  consumed  at  least  half  a  pound  of 


Urt.  Ifashcm.  "  BULL-BULL  AND  I  BATE  BBBN  BITTING  FOB  OCR  PHOTOGRAPHS  AS  '  B«AUT 

AND  THB   BEAhT  '  I  " 

lord  Lorev$  (a  bit  of  a  Fancier).  "  Y«s  ;  HI  CBBTAINLY  is  A  BBAUTY,  ISN'T  HB!  ' 


the.  best  Wensleydala,  which  I  put  before 
the  primest  Stilton. 

Now  to  business — hoofs,  not  fromage. 
The  Laureate  sings  enigmatically  :  — 

There  are  some,  who  will  prate  of  a  Bay, 
A  Comtoter  tome  others  will  please, 

Private  Mit»\on,  well-backed  on  the  day, 
llelyie  Sivtr  will  hold  at  his  ease. 

But  for  us  none  of  them  will  I  claim, 
All  the  Salt  End  I  throw  to  the  wind, 

Toei-in  -front  is  the  hone  that  I  name, 
With  the  Home  of  the  drome  cloae  behind. 

And  if  there  be  any  to  upset  the  pot, 

The  Com-oof,  the  After,  and  yip  beat  the  lot. 

I  salute  you,  mon  redactrur,  trusting 
that,  like  myself,  you  have  recently  pro- 
fited by  the  wondrous  resurrection  of 


CastU  Or.  A  rogue  who  wins  at  33  to  1 
in  a  fold  of  five,  «yen  at  Alexandra  Park, 
is  worth  following,  in  the  opinion  of 

Your  devoted  henchman  and  heeler, 
DARBY  JONES. 

P.S.— My  friend  the  MACTAVISH  tells 
me  that  he  has  despatched  two  boxes  of 
grouse  birds,  not  from  Yorkshire,  but  from 
Glen  MacWnuskey,  addressed  to  me. 
Have  they  arrived  ? 

[Mo  luch  boxes  hare  arrived,  but  the  Commis- 
sionaire at  the  door  informs  u«,  on  inquiry,  that  an 
emissary  from  a  WeU-end  poulterer  called  ye»ter- 
day,  and  was  anxious  to  know  the  addreM  of  a 
person  answering  to  D.  J.'s  description,  who  had 
ordered  three  brace  oi  grouse  and  not  paid  for  them. 
-ED.] 


88 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  28,  1897. 


ONE  OF  THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  SHOOTING  FROM  A  BUTT. 


Keeper  (on?  Moor  rented  by  the  latest  South  African  Millionaire,  to  Qiwst).   "NEVER  MIND  THE  BIRDS,  SIK.     FOB  ONNY  SAKK, 

LIE  DOWN  !    THE  MAISTER  's  GAWN  TAB  SHOOT  !  " 


AN  ERROR  OF  JUDGMENT. 

A  DIALOGUE  STORY  IN  SEVEN  PARTS. 

PART  III. 

SCENE — The  Drawing-room.  Mr.  JASON  BOWATER  has  just  entered. 
He  is  about  forty -five,  spare,  of  medium  height,  but  dignified  appear- 
ance. He  wean  a  trimly -pointed  beard  and  gold  eye-glasses  ;  his 
manner  and  speech  have  a  faintly  scholastic  flavour. 

Bowater.  How  do  you  do,  Miss  VYVIAN  ?  Ah,  ALABASTER — the 
very  man  I  wanted  to  see  !  I  called  at  your  house  on  my  way  up 
the  hill.  You  will  find  something  I  left  there  for  you  when  you 
go  back.  Mr.  ALABASTER,  my  dear  Miss  NORA,  is  good  enough 
to  give  me  his  invaluable  assistance  with  same  of  the  manuscripts 
which  I  can  no  longer  cope  with  single-handed.  Perhaps  he  has 
mentioned  it  ? 

Nora.  Yes.  He — he  did  mention  it.  I  can't  imagine  why  my 
Aunt  is  not  in  yet. 

Bowater.  I  am  afraid  her  bicycle  must  have  gone  wrong  again. 
I  met  her  near  the  station,  and  she  had  been  obliged  to  stop  to 
have  the  hind  tyre  repaired.  We  had  a  little  talk,  but  she  had  to 
go  over  to  Fitcham,  she  told  me,  and  was  in  rather  a  hurry.  I 
mentioned  to  her  that  I  'd  been  looking  through  an  anonymous 
manuscript  lately  which  has  struck  me  very  much.  In  fact,  I 
really  believe  that  I  've  unearthed  a  new  genius — unless  indeed. 
....  Why,  do  you  know,  the  suspicion  did  just  cross  my  mind 
that  it  might  be — 

Nora  (involuntarily).  Oh,  I'm  so  glad!  I  felt  sure  that 
you —  (Checking  herself.)  Please  don't  notice  what  I  said — it 
— it  slipped  out. 

Bowater.  I  won't  ask  any  indiscreet  questions.  But,  disguise 
their  style  as  they  may,  there  is  a  touch  about  our  best  authors' 
work  which—  Really,  ALABASTER,  it's  a  most  extraordinary 
book,  and  if  you  don't  share  my  enthusiasm  about  it 

Gerald.  Well,  I — I  may  have  read  it  carelessly.  I  "m  very  glad, 
as  it  happens,  that  you  came  to  a  different  conclusion  about  it. 

Bowater.  But  you  can't  have  read  it  at  all  yet !  I  Ve  only  just 
left  it  at  your  house,  in  a  small  black  bag,  which  by-the-bye,  I  "11 
call  for  on  my  way  home. 

Gerald.  Did  you  look  at  my  report  on  Stolen  Sweets?  If  not, 
I — I  'd  just  as  soon  you  didn't,  you  know. 

Bou-o-te.r.  Stolen  Sweets — let  me  see,  oh,  yes,  I  read  what  you 
said  about  that.  Very  poor  stuff,  evidently. 

Nora  (to  herself).  Oh,  dear,  and  I  made  sure  it  was  all  right  I 
(Aloud,  to  BOWATER.)  Have  you  read  it  yourself  yet  ? 


Bowater.  After  his  report?  No,  I  knew  I  should  merely  be 
wasting  my  time.  I  told  one  of  my  people  to  see  that  it  was 
returned  at  once  with  the  usual  formula,  and  the  author  has 
probably  received  it  by  now. 

Gerald  (ruefully).  I 'm  afraid  she  has! 

Bowater.  A  lady,  is  it  ?  Well,  we  publishers  can't  afford  to 
be  chivalrous  in  these  matters.  If  women  will  write  trash, 

why !  And  I  've  always  gone  upon  the  principle,  since  I  Ve 

been  in  business,  of  never  allowing  my  name  to  be  associated  with 
any  fiction  that  had  not  some  claim  to  be  considered  Literature. 
On  that  point  I'm  inflexible.  (Sounds  are  heard  outside.)  Ah, 
our  hostess — at  last  I 

Gerald  (to  himself) .  Poor  old  BOWATEK  1  When  he  finds  out ! 
But  he  can't  blame  me. 

Camilla  (appearing  at  the  doorway,  looking  heated  and 
dishevelled).  I  know  I'm  abominably  late — but  I've  been  upset. 

Nora  (breathlessly).  Did — you — did  you  get  to  Fitcham  P 

Camilla.  No — so  provoking,  I  only  got  about  half  way  when, 
just  in  the  quietest  part  of  the  road,  the  hem  of  my  skirt  caught 
in  the  pedal  and  threw  me  down,  and  there  I  lay,  helpless,  till 
somebody  came  by  and  set  me  free.  .  .  .  No,  I  wasn't  in  the 
least  hurt,  but  it  was  so  late,  and  my  wretched  tyre  was  in  such 
a  state,  that  I  turned  back,  and  had  to  walk  most  of  the  way. 

Nora  (to  herself).  How  fortunate  she  broke  down  before  she 
reached  the  post-office. 

Camilla.  Now,  I  must  just  rush  up  and  make  myself  fit  to  be 
seen.  I  won't  be  long.  Mr.  BOWATER,  did  I  hear  you,  when 
I  had  to  leave  you  a  little  while  ago,  beginning  to  tell  me  about 
some  manuscript  you  were  interested  in  ? 

Bowater.  Interested !  My  dear  Miss  LYDE,  completely  carried 
away  !  Whoever  the  author  may  be,  and — hem — his  identity  is 
not  revealed  at  present,  I  really  don't  know  when 1 

Camilla  (endeavouring  to  conceal  her  delight).  You  must  tell 
me  all  about  it  at  lunch.  I  can't  stop  now. 

Bowater.  Take  care,  Miss  LYDE.  If  I  am  once  started  on  that 
subject,  I  shall  become  a  bore — a  positive  bore  ! 

Camilla  (smiling).  Ah,  I  am  not  afraid  of  that,  dear  Mr. 
BOWATER.  I  ain  quite  curious,  I  assure  you.  [She  goes. 

Bowater.  Miss  VYVIAN,  unless  I  am  mistaken,  I  foresee  quite 
a  pleasant  little  comedy  over  this. 

Nora  (in  distress).  No,  Mr.  BOWATEB,  no — indeed  you  are 
mistaken.  It — it  won't  be  that.  Oh,  for  goodness'  sake,  tell  him, 
GERALD,  it 's  the  only  thing  you  can  do  now  I 

Gerald  (reluctantly,  to  BOWATER).  Well — er — the  fact  is,  I'm 
afraid  Miss  LYDE  thought  it  was  Stolen  Sweets  you  were  so 
enthusiastic  about. 


AUGUST  28,  1897.J 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


Xtulcn    tiweeti— why,    1  've   rejected    that — oil    your 
recommendation. 

in  i «/!/ .  1  knuw.     1 — I  gave  you  mv  candid  opinion.     But  il 

1  'd  known  it  was  .Miss  Lvuv's 

ISuivuttr  (pcti-i/ivd).  Mi.vi  LYUK'B!!  ALABASTER,  do  you  ineuu 
to  tell  mo  tliat  you  have  actually  misled  uie  into  rejecting  a  work 
by  .Miss  LYUHP 

li'i-nlil  (cri-itfaUe.il).  I'm  awfully  sorry.  But,  really,  if  you 'd 
read  it  yoursoll 1 

Bu  water.  1  wish  to  Huuveu  I  had  '.  Hut  1  ilnmght  1  i-uiild  <!<• 
peud  on  your  judgment,  and  tin*  is  the  result  !  To  roudeuiu  .. 
novel  of  hen  ill  that  offhand  way.  It's  either  commit,  Sir,  01 
the  iiiu.it  unpardonable-  ignorance — I  don't  care  which. 

A  on.    Unlit,  I  'm  afraid. 

i,,  n ild.  Oh,  all  right,  pitch  into  me,  if  it 'a  any  ruuef  to  you 
You  can  tell  her  it  'a  all  my  doing. 

Bowater.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  shelter  myself  in  any  such  way, 
Sir.  She  would  only  think  the  worse  of  me  if  I  did.  lint  when 
I  think  that  the  next  timo  she  calls  at  that  post  office,  •ho  will 
tiini —  Ah,  if  I  had  only  waited  a  day  before  returning  that 
manuscript  I  But  there,  it 's  too  Late — it  'a  too  late,  now  I 

A'oru.  I've  an  idea.  I  could  bicycle  over  directly  after  lunch 
and  ask  if  there  is  any  parcel  for  M.  -N .  If  it 's  there,  they  would 
be  sure  to  give  it  up  to  me,  and  if  it 's  not,  I  could  leave  instruc- 
tions to  re-address  it  to  Lebanon  Lodge,  and  then  you  would 
get  it  again,  and  my  Aunt  would  never  know. 

Botcater.  My  dear  Miss  NORA,  it 's  an  inspiration  1  If  you  will 
only  do  that,  I — 1  shall  be  unspeakably  obliged.  It  will  get  uie 

out  of  this  most  embarrassing But  there  's  another  difficulty. 

Suppose  in  the  meantime  Miss  LYDB  questions  me  about  that 
other  manuscript — the  one  1  was  foolish  enough  to  mention 
to  her  P 

Nora.  You  haven't  told  her  the  title,  or  what  it  was  about  ? 

Jiu water.  Fortunately  the  title  has  quite  escaped  me.  I  don't 
remember  noticing  it.  And  I  had  no  time  to  go  into  particulars. 

Nora.  Then  if  she  supposes  it  is  Stolen  Sweets,  why  undeceive 
her? 

Buii-ati-r.  I  could  praise  it  with  a  clear  conscience.  I  accept  it 
beforehand.  I  ki.  u>.  ifc's  a  masterpiece,  in  spite  of  our  critical 
young  friend  here.  Only,  the — the  worst  of  it  is  that  she  '11 
naturally  wish  to  know  what  parts  I  admire  most — and  I  haven't 
read  a  word  of  it ! 

Nora.  But  GERALD  has.  He  told  me  he  could  pass  an  exam,  in 
it.  GKKAI.D,  coach  Mr.  BOWATER — quick — before  my  Aunt  comes 
down! 

linu-ati  r.  I  only  want  an  outline — names — a  scene  or  two — 
anything  I  can  go  upon.  I  think  you  owe  me  that,  ALABASTER  1 

Gerald  (shamefacedly).  Oh,  I'll  do  my  best.  (Taking  Bo  WATCH 

aride.)     It  opens  something  like  this :  The  heroine 

[He  proceeds  to  pour  a  rapid  summary  of  the  plot  into 
BOWATER'S  eager  ears. 

Bowater.  Yes,  yes.     I  see.     I've  got  that.     What  nextP  .  . 
No,  stop — I  hear  Miss  LYDE! 

Camilla  (enters,  cool,  fresh,  and  smiling).  Now  let  us  go  to 
lunch.  I  'm  sure  you  must  all  be  ravenous ! 

IShe  leads  the  way  into  the  dining-room. 

Bowater  (detaining  NORA,  and  speaking  in  an  agonised  under- 
tone). Miss  VYYIAN,  for  Heaven's  sake  keep  Miss  LYDE  off  the 
novel  if  you  can.  Her  plot  seems  most  complicated.  And 
ALABASTER  hasn't  told  me  half  of  it  yet ! 

Nora.  It  will  be  all  right,  Mr.  BOWATER,  I'm  sure  it  will. 
GEKALU  will  prompt  you,  if  it's  necessary. 

Gerald.  I  snail  put  my  foot  in  it  somewhere,  I  know.  I  never 
u-a.-i  a  good  liar ! 

Nora  (indignantly).  Don't  run  yourself  down  like  that,  GERALD. 
I  'm  sure  you  're  an  excellent  liar ! 

Bowater.  Understand  me,  ALABASTER,  1  don't  ask  you  to  de- 
scend to  actual  untruth.  Personally,  though  I  am  prepared  to 
say  anything  rather  than  cause  a  moment's  pain  to  a  charming 
lady  whom  I  respect  and  admire,  I  shall  endeavour  to  avoid  any 
downright  falsehood — if  possible.  But,  should  I  find  myself 
forced  to — to  refer  to  you  for  corroboration  of  matters  of  fact,  I 
— I  shall  expect  you  to  back  me  up,  Sir. 

Nora.  And  if  you  don't,  I  '11  never  speak  to  you  again  ! 

Gerald  (sulkily).  Well,  if  I  must,  I  must.  But  Miss  LTDB  will 
spot  something  if  we  stay  in  here  whispering  like  a  lot  of  con- 
spirators. Let 's  go  in  and  get  it  over. 

[NoRA  ami  he  go  towards  the  dining-room. 

Bowater  (to  himself,  as  he  follows).  A  conspirator,  that's  what 
I  om.  If  I  can  only  leave  this  house  without  having  betrayed 
myself,  I  shall  be  a  fortunate  man.  And  I  came  here  with  the 
fixed  intention  of— —  But  one  thing's  certain — it  would  be 
madness  to  propose  to  her  this  afternoon  ! 

[They  enter  the  dining-room. 


MORNING    CIVILITIES. 

(Overheard  at  Scarborough.) 

Small  Boy  (to  Chum,  on  hit  way  to  sands  with  Donkeys  and  Foal), 
"  HOLLO,  BILLY!    How  MUCH  FOR  T'  LITTLE  UK"!" 

Billy.    "G«T  AWAY  I      THY   MOTHER    CAN'T    A1FORD    TO   KEEP  TWO 
O'   YER  !  " 


.OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

FEW  things  in  recent  literature  are  more  pathetic  than  the 
Preface  written  by  Mrs.  OLIPHANT  to  what  proved  to  be  the  last 
book  published  (SMITH,  ELDER)  in  her  long  and  busy  lifetime. 
The  Ways  of  Life  comprise  two  stories  linked  by  the  common 
incident  of  failure  on  the  part  of  hard-working  business  men, 
trouble  falling  upon  them  when  they  are  past  the  prime  of  life, 
and  have  no  chance  of  re-establishing  themselves.  Mr.  Sand  ford 
is  a  painter  who  has  won  his  way  to  the  rank  of  Royal  Acade- 
mician. One  day  he  finds  his  pictures  cease  to  sell,  and  that  he 
who  once  commanded  the  market  is  beginning  to  be  spoken  of 
by  his  friend  as  "  poor  SANDKORD."  Mr.  Robert  Dal  veil  was 
something  in  the  City.  In  his  fiftieth  year  a  long  course  of  finan- 
cial prosperity  was  suddenly  overclouded  by  prospect  of  bank- 
ruptcy. In  the  Preface  Mrs.  OLIPHANT  tells  now  she  came  to 
write  these  sombre  stories.  They  were,  she  says,  produced  "  under 
influence  of  the  strange  discovery  a  man  makes  when  he  finds  him- 
self carried  away  by  the  retiring  waters,  no  longer  coming  in 
upon  the  top  of  the  wave,  but  going  out.  "  The  discovery," 
she  testifies,  "  comes  in  diverse  ways :  in  the  unresponsive 
silence  which  greets  an  orator  who  was  once  interrupted  by  per- 
petual cheers  ;  in  the  publishing  of  a  book  which  drops  and  is 
never  heard  of  more ;  in  the  matter  of  unsold  pictures ;  in  the 
changed  accent  with  which  the  fickle  public  pronounce  a  once- 
favoured  name."  Mrs.  OLIPHAXT  does  not  make  direct  admission 
of  her  own  apprehension,  but  it  is  clear  that  at  the  time  of 
writing,  the  shadows  were  falling  fast.  "On  the  Ebb  Tide,"  she 
called  her  Preface.  Now,  like  Barkis,  she  has  "  gone  out  with  the 
tide,"  leaving  on  the  hither  shore  this  last  of  an  almost  countless 
tale  of  books.  It  is  pleasing  to  note  that  in  the  matter  of 
finished  workmanship  it  shows  no  sign  of  the  failure  she  dreaded. 

THE  BARON  DE  B.-W. 


THE  REAL  "  MDLLER." — Not  the  fanatic  who  has  caused  the 
frontier  tribes  of  India  to  rise,  but  quite  a  different  personage. 


90 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  28,  1897. 


Brown.  "LIGHT-HEARTED,  CARELESS  SORT  OF  CHAP  OUR  YOUNG  FRIEND  THERE  ! 

BELIEVE  HE  'D   ROB   HIS   OWN   FATHER,    AND   BE   DELIGHTED!" 

Robinson.  "  WELL— ER — TRANSPORTED  RATHER  THAN  DBLJOHTBD,  1  SHOULD  HAVE  SAID." 


A  BID  FOR  FREEDOM. 

(Extracted  from  the  Private  Correspondence  of  j 
Master  Thomas  Tittlebat,  and  kept  until  tie  > 
Summer  Vacation  for  Holiday  reading.) 

MY  DEAR  UNCLE, — I  know  that  you  like 
to  have  a  letter  from  your  affectionate 
nephew,  and  so,  as  usual,  I  am  writing 
you  a  line  just  now,  and  as  I  am  doing  so, 
I  wish  to  remind  you  that  it  is  my  birth- 
day on  Monday  week.  You  should  send 
oft  your  present  by  parcel-post  on  Friday 
at  latest,  so  that  it  may  reach  me  by  the 
proper  day.  Besides  the  regular  present, 
a  hamper  would  be  very  acceptable,  as  I 
require  nourishment  after  fehe  hard  work 
of  last  term.  (Remember,  it  must  be  sent 
OK  Friday — not  later.)  The  one  you  sent  me 
last  term  was  no  good,  I  regret  to  say, 
because  it  was  seized  by  JONES  major,  who 
is  a  liar.  I  will  tell  you  about  this. 

JONBS  major  has  a  father,  who  is  the 
Radical  member  of  the  House  of  Com- 


mons, and  JONES  is  always  talking  rot 
about  politics,  and  spouting  speeches. 
Why  you  may  ask,  do  I  listen  to  him? 
Alas!  my  dear  uncle,  I  have  no  choice. 
Onco  I  did  point  out  in  the  politest  way 
that  he  was  getting  a  little  mixed  in  his 
arguments.  His  reply  was  most  forcible. 
I  nad  to  go  to  the  cook,  and  beg  for  a 
piece  of  raw  beef-steak. 

Towards  the  end  of  last  term  the 
temper  of  old  BUNNY  (our  esteemed  head 
master,  better  known  to  you  as  the  Rev. 
RICHARD  BUNBURY,  M.A.)  was  simply  too 
awful.  He  set  impots.  all  over  the  place 
without  the  least  excuse,  and  then  gave 
out  after  prayers  one  night  that  a  half- 
holiday  would  be  taken  away,  because 
some  one  had  smashed  one  of  his  blessed 
cucumber-frames  with  a  fives-ball,  and  he 
couldn't  find  out  who  it  was.  As  soon  as 
we  got  into  the  dormitory,  JONES  major 
had  us  all  out  into  the  passage,  which  he 
called  "  convening  a  general  council." 
There  he  made  a  speech.  He  said  that  old 


BUNNY'S  conduct  was  a  disgrace  to  civili- 
sation, which  was  quite  true.  Then  he 
asked  whether  we  would  remain  down- 
trodden slaves  any  longer  ?  We  didn't  say 
anything  at  first,  till  JONES  knocked  to- 
gether the  heads  of  two  small  boys  near 
turn,  calling  them  "  spiritless  worms,"  and 
told  them  to  shout  "No."  So  we  all 
shouted  "No" — not  very  loud,  because  ot 
BUNNY.  "  Thank  you,  my  gallant  com- 
rades," said  JONES,  "  this  spontaneous  out- 
burst of  enthusiasm  nerves  me  anew  for 
the  great  struggle.  We  will  begin  to- 
morrow ! " 

JENKINS,  who  is  nearly  as  big  as  JONES, 
asked  what  we  should  begin. 

''  We  shall  strike,  you  booby ;  we  shall 
coir  bine  against  the  tyrant  employer  1 " 
said  JONES,  savagely.  "And  now  we  must 
make  preparations.  We  are  sure  to  be 
met  by  a  lock-out,  so  the  first  thing  is  to 
form  a  strike-fund.  Every  fellow  must 
hand  me  over  his  week's  pocket-money. 
1  will  administer  the  strike-pay  myself  !  " 

There  was  some  murmuring  at  tliis,  and 
a  good  deal  of  hesitation. 

"  If  any  dastardly,  black-leg,"  roared 
JONES,  "is  among  us — if  the  heart  of  any 
of  you  chaps  is  so  depraved  as  to  distrust 
the  great  principle  of  co-operation— I  '11 
jolly  well  punch  his  ugly  head  I " 

So  we  had  to  hand  over  our  pocket- 
money.  But  worse  was  to  come  for  me. 

"  I  saw  a  hamper  in  the  hall  just  now," 
JONES  continued,  "  addressed  to  you, 
young  TITTLEBAT.  That  shall  be  used  for 
the  relief  of  necessitous  strikers." 

Such,  my  dear  uncle,  was  the  fate  of 
your  benevolent  gift !  J'ot  so  much  as  an 
acid  drop  from  it  reached  the  mouth  of 
your  unfortunate  nephew. 

Then  JONES  went  on  with  his  prepara- 
tions. He  set  SMITHERS  to  write,  "Down 
with  the  Tyrant !  "  "  Who  would  be  free, 
himself  must  strike  !  "  and  other  things,  in 
red  ink,  on  pockethandkerchiefs.  Then  he 
dictated  a  manifesto,  which  JACKSON  had 
to  write  down.  It  told  old  BUNNY  that 
our  demands  were  (1)  The  half-holiday  to 
be  restored ;  (2)  Jam  for  tea ;  (3)  First 
school  an  hour  later.  It  added  that  the 
great  heart  of  the  nation  was  with  us,  and 
that  we  would  die  rather  than  yield.  Then 
JONES  made  another  speech. 

"  To-  rncrrow  morning,"  he  said,  "  we  will 
refuse  to  go  into  school.  \Ve  will  form  a 
procession,  and  march  about  the  yard,  and 
sing.  CARSON,  I  appoint  you  a  picket  to 
see  that  no  one  slinks  away.  Then  old 
BUNNY  will  come  out,  and  a  nice  rage  he  '11 
be  in.  TITTLEBAT,  you  have  been  of  dis- 
tinct service  to  the  cause  ;  your  hamper  is 
most  acceptable.  Therefore  you  shall  have 
a  special  honour.  You  shall  be  our  dele- 
gate." 

I  didn't  catch  his  meaning  at  first. 
•'  But  I  'm  not  delicate,"  I  objected.  "  If 
you  want  me  to  go  to  the  sick-room " 

"  Delegate,  you  dunderheaded  ninny  I  " 
shouted  JONES,  seizing  my  arm,  and  twist- 
ing it  in  the  most  unpleasant  manner. 
"  You  and  SMITHERS  shall  interview  BUNNY 
on  our  behalf,  and  read  him  that  mani- 
festo." 

Under  the  circumstances,  I  did  not  see 
my  way  to  decline  the  honour. 

Next  day,  the  programme  was  duly  car- 
ried out.  Instead  of  going  into  school, 
we  marched  round  the  yard,  waving  our 
banners,  and  singing  as  much  of  the  Af ar- 
seillaiie  as  we  could  remember.  Soon  old 
BUNNT  appeared,  in  a  towering  rage,  and 
wanted  to  know  what  this  meant. 

"SMITHERS  and  TITTLEBAT,"  shouted 
JONES,  from  the  background,  "are  our 


H 

w 

B 


AUGUST  28,  1897.") 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


93 


Oil 


THE    JOYS    OF   TOURING. 

Oldest  Inhabitant.  "  WULL,  ZIB,  TUK  VINBST  ZIOHT  IN  THIBI  PARTS  BI  THE  VINEDOCK, 

I    KAUKON,    /IK,    AN*   I    BIN   'KKR   NIOH   ON   ElUUTY   YlAR  COME,"   &C.,    &C. 

Tourist.  "  VINKDOCK!     NEVER  HEAKD  OF  IT.     SOUNDS  MOST  INTERESTING.     WB 'LI  oo 

AND  SEE  IT." 

[But  the  Wiltshire  pronunciation  of"  Viaduct "  was  mart  interesting  than  tin  real  article. 


accredited  delegates.  They  will  lay  our 
views  before  you." 

"  SMITHERS  and  TITTLEBAT,"  said  BUNNT, 
"  ccme  to  my  study." 

You  never  saw  anything  like  old 
BUNNY'S  face  when  I  read  him  our  mani- 
festo. "  Thank  you,"  he  said,  when  I  had 
finished.  "  That  is  a  most  interesting 
document  And  now,  if  you  don't  mind, 
I  mean  to  do  a  little  striking  myself ! " 

Over  tin-  set-lie  that  followed,  my  dear 
uncle,  I  draw  a  veil.  I  have  scarcely  yet 
recovered  from  the  effects  of  it.  Indeed, 


it  is  not  selfishness,  a*  my  mother  declares, 
which  causes  me  to  'select  for  myself  the 
softest  chairs  in  the  room. 

So  I  am  sure  you  will  agree  that  a 
large  hamper  (you  will  send  it  on  Friday, 
won't  you  P)  will  be  a  welcome,  though 
inadequate  relief  for  the  wounded  feelings 
of  your  innocent  and  unfortunate  nephew, 
.THOMAS  TITTLEBAT. 

CURIOUS  PHASE  OF  YEA  AND  NAT. — Those 
in  the  know  at  a  race  meeting  always  say 
"  yes  "  when  offered  the  odds. 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Sauting  Man  sculls  in  the  <Uwy  evi  to  tin 
riverain  houtt,  where  he  supposes  his  Ituiy  lave 
it  dwelliny. 

THEME'S  a  mist  on  the  river  to-night,  my 

love, 

A  veil  of  a  silver-grey  hue, 
That  a  man  with  a  Rbntgeu  ray  light,  my 

love, 
Could  not  pierce  at  our  dear   old   belle 

rue. 
There  for  weeks  we  foregathered  and  told 

the  sweet  tale 
That  ripens  aa  age*  go  by  ; 
Folks  say  that  it  '•  getting  uncommonly 

stale, 
Yet  somehow  it  never  can  die. 

There  'a  a  mist  on  the  river  to-night,  my 

love, 

And  the  bank*  are  all  reeking  of  dew, 
But  catarrh  does  not  give  me  affright,  my 

love, 

Nor  sore  throat,  when  thinking  of  you. 
I  would  recklessly  welcome  the  challenge 

of  cold, 

Influenza  would  fearlessly  meet, 
If  only  we  lived  in  the  days,  not  so  old, 
When  each   minute,    each    second,   was 
sweet! 

There 's  a  mist  ou  the  river  to-uight,  my 

love, 
Thru-  were  mists  when  the  moonbeam* 

we  'd  see, 
When   we  said  what  we   should   and  we 

might,  uiy  love, 

In  the  .kingdom  of  Uoing-to-be. 
The  argosy  tair  that  we  launched  on  the 

tide 

From  the  summer-house  under  the  slope, 
Was  freighted  witn  plenty  of  young-hearted 

pride, 
And  captained  by  masterful  Hope. 

There  's  a  mist  ou  the  river  to-night,  my 

love, 

O'er  the  willows  it  hangs  like  a  ghost 
Of  the  argosy  lost  in  our  sight,  my  love, 
With  tiie    treasure  that   we  loved  the 

most. 
The  treasure  that's  worth  all  the  wealth 

of  Klondyke, 

And  surpasses  the  gems  of  the  Rand, 
The  claim  that  all  hunters  of  fortune  can 

strike, 
That  joins  every  heart  with  each  hand  I 

There 's  a  mist  on  the  river  to-night,  my 

love, 

I  am  chill  as  I  ait  in  this  boat, 
I  feel  like  a  castaway  wight,  my  love, 

Who  i»  somehow  or  other  afloat. 
I  know  you  are  thinking  of  me,  and  I  think 

Of  the  days  that  are  gone  with  regret. 
The  mist  parts  1  The  moon  1   Horror  I  Give 

me  a  drink  I 

There 's  a  board  up — "  This  House  U  to 
Let  I " 


A  Practical  Agriculturist. 

Keeper  (to  small  farmer,  who  i>  "over 
the  bolder  "  with  a  gun  in  hit  hand).  Now, 
look  'ere,  Mr.  GRUBBINS,  you  know  what 's 
your  land  and  what 's  ourn. 

-U  r.  Qrubbint.  In  course  I  do ;  but 
sure-ly  you  don't  object  to  my  seeing  how 
your  turnips  is  getting  on  I 

[Keeper  collapses. 

FBE.NCH  ARITHMETIC. — The  Republic  can 
be  numbered  by  millions,  but  at  St. 
Petersburg  it  counts  as  Faure. 


94 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  28,  1897. 


SHALL    HORSES    WEAR    BONNETS?" 

A  ntvy  DESIGNS  FOR  THE  ASSISTANCE  OF  "Tna  TRADB  "— ALL  WARRANTED  TO  LOOK  REMARKABLY  WILL! 


"DOWN  SOUTH." 

SOMB  years  ago  you,  Sir,  or  one  of  yours — but  qui  facit  put 
alium,  facit  per  se  (and  lately,  en  voyageur,  I  have  had  to  face  it 
per  sea  pretty  frequently) — recommended  Bournemouth  as  being 
a  place  where  one  (or  more)  could  spend  a  happy,  healthful 
holiday.  Now,  when  I  hear  any  recommendation  of  anything  by 
anybody  given  out  urbi  et  orbi,  experience  has  taught  me  to  con- 
sider, deliberately,  first,  the  60710  fides  of  the  utterer,  secondly, 
the  circumstances  of  the  utterance.  Being  aware  of  possessing 
a  too  confiding  disposition,  I  become  acutely  suspicious.  I 
sit  as  judge  to  hear  the  pros  and  the  cons ;  as  counsel  I  examine 
witnesses;  then,  reappearing  as  judge,  I  sift  the  evidence,  sum 
up,  and  direct  the  verdict. 

To  this  judicial  process  I  submitted  your  correspondent's  recom- 
mendation, and,  as  the  verdict  was  in  his  favour,  I  finally  decided 
on  acting  in  accordance  with  his  advice. 

When  casually  I  mentioned  to  friends  that  I  was  going  for  a 
summer  holiday  to  Bournemouth,  my  best  friends — who  do  not 
care  a  hang  where  I  go,  provided  that  I  do  go  and  do  not  bother 
them — stared  in  astonishment,  and  would  have  attempted  to  dis- 
suade me  from  carrying  out  my  intention,  had  not  the  idea 
evidently  occurred  to  them,  as  a  second  thought  of  the  happiest 
description,  that,  by  selecting  Bournemouth  for  my  summer-holi- 
day residence,  I  should  be  choosing  a  spot,  within  measurable 
distance  of  which  none  of  them  would  be  in  the  least  likely  to 
be  found.  Only  three  among  my  bosom  intimates  exhibited  any 
curiosity  as  to  the  exact  time  of  my  visit.  These  friends  appeared 
much  relieved  on  my  expressing  my  intention  of  avoiding  the 
Isle  of  Wight  during  "the  Cowes  week,"  and  I  subsequently 
ascertained  (though,  they  did  not  mention  it  at  the  time)  that 
they  were  members  of  "the  Squadron,"  and  were  due  on  board 
their  small  yachts  for  that  special  aquatic  festivity. 

They  all  wished  me  a  "  good  time  of  it,"  and  departed,  the 
majority  going  north  in  search  of  the  wily  grouse  (a  fact  they 
omitted  to  mention  in  my  hearing),  others  to  Homburg,  Aix,  and 
similar  Continental  resorts,  where  the  burden  of  the  chorus  is 
"  The  Cure  1  the  Cure !  the  Cure ! " 

After  some  considerably  varied  experience  of  watering-places 
and  seaside  resorts,  both  in  summer  and  winter,  I  have  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  all  of  them,  wherever  they  may  be,  are  un- 
commonly alike  in  their  effect ;  only  in  summer  your  temporary 
residence  must  be  on  a  height,  away  from  the  town,  and  in  full 
view  of  the  sea.  At  Bournemouth  in  August  there  is  the  purple 
heather  (but  no  grouse,  except  at  the  poulterer's),  and  there  are 


woods  of  pine  and  fir,  affording  in  summer  a  shade  deliciously 
cool,  but  not  so  absolutely  cold  as  that  of  the  pine-forests  on 
the  hills  above  Royat. 

At  Bournemouth  the  air  at  early  morn  and  dewy  eve  is  sweet- 
scented,  refreshing,  and  more  or  less  invigorating,  according  to 
the  constitution  of  the  visitor.  If  only  you  are  a  moderately 
good  sailor,  there  is  so  great  a  variety  of  trips  by  sea,  in  first-rate 
steamers,  as  will  satisfy  the  aspirations  and  be  within  the  pocket- 
(  compass  of  the  most  enthusiastic  of  nautical  amateurs.  With  such 
j  chances  by  knd  as  Bournemouth  can  offer,  you  will  have  change 
in  full  for  your  money.  Ashore  there  is  amusement  for  every- 
one, plenty  of  "  places  to  go  to  "  ;  river-fishing,  picturesque  walks 
and  drives,  at  fairly  reasonable  prices.  Mr.  DAN  GODFREY, 
junior,  Lieutenant  DAN  GODFREY'S  musical  heir,  conducts  a 
large  orchestra,  which  is  divided  between  the  Pier  and  the  Winter 
Garden,  and  on  Saturday  evenings  uniting  its  forces,  it  comes  out 
uncommonly  strong  with  a  popular  programme,  supplemented  by 
good  comic  singing,  and  other  entertainments,  either  by  conju- 
rers, or  whistlers,  or  ventriloquists,  or,  it  may  be,  by  all  three. 

In  the  afternoons  there  is  always  at  these  same  Winter  Gardens, 
— which,  by  the  way,  is  an  enticing  but  deceptive  name  in  Sum- 
mer— a  more  or  less  classical  concert,  as  an  attraction  for  those 
more  seriously  and  dozily-disposed  persons,  who,  having  dined 
early  or  heavily  lunched  (for  Bournemouth  does  produce  a 
powerful  appetite),  do  not  grudge  their  sixpence  for  entrance  to 
these  gardens,  where,  in  a  huge  glass-house,  there  are  chairs  and 
benches  where  they  can  "lazily,  lazily,  drowsily,  drowsily" 
enjoy  the  sweet  strains  of  most  superior  composers.  It  is  con- 
ceivable that  there  might  be  a  better  place  for  sound  than  this 
same  Hothouse,  where  the  orchestral  performers  appear  as  it 
were  planted  amidst  ferns,  and  may  be  individually  and  collec- 
tively considered  as  an  essential  portion  of  the  Fern-iture.  Per- 
haps, instead  of  "Classical  Concerts,"  the  afternoon  performances 
as  given  here  might  be  known  as  "  The  Classical  Concerts."  Mr. 
DAN  GODFREY  will  see  to  this ;  and  that  he  should  be  permanent 
musical  director  at  Bournemouth  is  sufficient  guarantee  for  the 
popularity  of  the  selections  and  for  the  excellence  of  the  per- 
formance. 

But  the  special  attraction  offered  by  Bournemouth  to  its 
visitors,  during  its  summer  season,  is  in  the  shape  of  a  bait,  a  sea- 
bait,  not  a  "  ground-bait,"  held  out  by  the  steamboat  companies, 
whether  antagonistic  or  co-operative  this  deponent  knoweth  not, 
for  "  excursions "  (without  the  Shakspearian  addition  of 
"  alarums  ")  to  all  sorts  of  places  along  the  English  coast,  ranging 
from  Brighton  to  Torquay,  and,  occasionally,  a  voyage  to  the 


AUGUST  28,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


95 


ALL    OVER! 

"  HULLOA,  BOB,  von  DOWN  HERE!    How  MISERABLE  YOU  LOOK  I    WHAT  is  IT?" 

"TED,  DO  YOU  REMEMBER  THAT  LOVELY  DARK  GlRL  WE  MET  AT  THE  FlELDENS*  1    I  GAVE  HER  LlSKUNS  OS  THE  BtCYCLE." 

"WELL?"  "WELL,  SHE  HAM 


French  coast,  visiting  Boulogne  or  Cherbourg.  Of  these  two  last 
''  trips  "  I  have  not  as  yet  had  experience,  but  to  those  who  are 
only  moderately  qualified  sailors,  I  can  confidently  recommend 
the  others,  especially  if  you  have  your  own  party,  so  as  to  secure 
your  own  seats  together,  and  your  own  table  for  lunch  and  the 
"  Five  o'clock." 

On  these  steamers  everything  is  of  the  A-wunnest  character, 
with  one  exception  ;  and  to  rectify  this  these  Southern  steamboat 
companies  might  well  take  a  hint  from  the  perfect  arrangements 
on  the  Calais-Douvres  line.  Empress,  Monarch,  Lord  Elgin,  and 
Brodick  Castle,  are  ruled  by  sturdy  captains,  who  know  when  the 
i/ii/iv  moment  has  arrived  for  them  to  desipere  in  loco,  and  served 
by  civil  sailors,  and  polite  pursers.  There  is  capital  catering  at 
reasonable  rates,  and,  with  the  exception  of  coffee,  for  which,  if 
you  are  accustomed  as  a  hardy  manner  "  to  rough  it,"  you  can 
easily  substitute  tea,  the  veriest  "  stow-away  "  (as  regards  wittles 
and  drink)  will  be  thoroughly  satisfied. 

Mrm.—Go  on  board  a  good  hour  before  starting.  The  early 
Boarder  secures  the  best  place.  This  is  important. 

Mem. — After  stepping  on  deck,  saluting,  and  reporting  your- 
self to  the  captain  with  "  Come  aboard,  cap'en  1 "  scuttle  away 
below,  all  hands  on  the  deck-chairs,  on  which,  when  you  have 
placed  them  in  position  and  taken  their  numbers,  place  your 
coots,  newspaper,  and  any  impedimenta  you  may  be  carrying 
with  you.  This  strategic  movement  having  been  taken,  seek 
out  the  steward  or  under-steward,  or  under-steward's  assistant, 
give  him  the  number  of  your  party,  and  secure  your  seats  for 
a  certain  hour,  say  lunch  at  12.30,  which  gives  you  a  good  half 
hour's  start  of  other  hungry  voyageur.v,  who  will  not  appear  on 
the  scene  until  one  o'clock,  when  the  hot  dishes  appear,  of  which 
you  will  not  partake,  but  be  satisfied  with  quite  fresh  and  just- 
hoilod  lobster  (reminding  you  of  the  shell-fish  at  Swanage),  cold 
chicken,  and  tongue  or  nam,  and  a  good  salad,  which  you  will 
mix  for  yourself. 

But  this  is  anticipating.  If  the  boat  starts  at  10.30,  you  will 
be  aboard  by  9.30,  and  from  your  vantage  ground  you  will  find 
amusement  enough  during  the  next  hour  in  observing  the  genuine 
tourist-varieties  that  have  come  here  from  all  parts  of  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland  for  a  holiday,  spiced  with  a  sprinkling  of 
lively  French,  and  "stolidified"  by  no  inconsiderable  number  of 
Germans.  Judging  from  the  odour  of  some  of  the  cigars,  you, 


although  a  smoker,  and  it  may  be  a  good  sailor,  will  be  grateful 
to  the  captain  or  his  first  mate  for  drawing  particular  attention 
to  the  order  that  smoking  is  strictly  forbidden  on  this  deck,  and 
still  further  grateful  to  him  for  seeing  it  enforced.  Of  course, 
nyone  refusing  to  obey  the  captain  would  be  at  once  put  in  irons, 
and —  But  let  us  hope  even  the  sternest  martinet  will  never 
have  to  proceed  to  extremities. 


ABDUL  SEDET. 

ABDUL  Aziz  sat  on  a  wall, 

And  didn't  care  aught  about  storm  or  squall ; 

He  laughed  at  the  Powers,  who  made  much  brag, 

And  defiantly  waved  his  Moslem  flag. 

He  laughed,  for  he  knew  that  big  game  was  won, 

That  wolves  (with  the  sheep)  were  foiled  and  done, 

That  whenever  he  wanted  a  card  to  play 

He  'd  only  to  get  up  a  fresh  affray. 

Armenia!     Greece!     What  mattered  the  spot  t 

So  long  as  the  battle  was  fierce  and  hot. 

So  ABDUL  Aziz  sits  on  the  wall, 

And  don't  care  a  rap  for  the  Powers'  call ; 

He  '11  sit  and  he  '11  sit  till  the  crack  of  doom, 

For  he  knows  that  there  's  never  a  foe  with  a  broom  1 


From  Our  Irrepressible  One. 

(Apparently  concealed  on  the  Scottish  ifoors.) 

Fair  American  (new  to  Great  Britain,  but  looking  out  for  an 
tligible  Duke}.  Say,  what's  the  meaning  of  a  grouse-drive  ? 

My»tlf(the  I.  0.).  We  harness  them  to  li^ht  buff?ie«,  and  make 
a  match  of  it.  ["  Rut  I  didn't,"  (tddi  the  I.  O, 


Not  to  be   Outdone. 

Britisher  (to  Citizen  of  the  United  States).  What  did  you  think 
of  our  Diamond  Jubilee  ? 

U.  S.  Citizen.  Fair,  Sirree,  very  fair,  but  just  you  wait  till 
we  bring  off  our  Ruby  Commemoration ! 


96 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[AUGUST  '28,   1897. 


Obliging  Horseman  (of  riwrside  breeding).   "  'AvE  A  TOW  UP,  Mis;- 


AUGUSTS  EN  ANGLETERRE. 
AUGUST  IN  ENGLAND. 

DEAR  MISTER, — The  english  in-head  has  the  air  of  to  be  trans- 
lated from  the  french  in-nead.  But  no  I  Ce  n'est  pas  moi,  c'est 
te  mots.  And  what  month  of  movement,  of  vacations!  All  the 
world,  from  the  royal  family  just  to  the  most  poor  little  child  of 
the  "  Eastend  "  renders  himself,  if  that  can  himself,  to  a  station 
of  railway.  The  ones,  the  princes,  go  to  Goodwood  and  to  Cowes  ; 
the  others,  the  poor  little  childs,  conducted  by  the  good  clergy- 
mans  and  by  the  amiable  instructresses  of  the  schools,  go  to  pass 
the  day  at  the  country  for  there  to  see,  them  also,  the  good 
woods  and  the  cows.  Ah  the  poor  littles,  Us  pauvres  petits! 

All  the  world  is  in  voyage.  The  first  monday  the  workers 
dispense  much  of  money  for  to  make  some  excursions  to  the 
border  of  the  sea.  Partout  some  trains  of  pleasure — de  plaisir, 
oh  la,  la  !  And  during  all  the  month  in  all  the  streets  of  London 
enormously  of  "  fourwheelers  "  cabs,  and  of  omnibuses,  covered  of 
baggages  and  of  bicyclettes.  The  trains  are  full,  the  stations  are 
full.  The  factors,  facteurs,  are  suchly  occupied  that  one  is 
obliged  of  to  carry  his  baggages  himself.  And  the  hotels  are  still 
more  full.  Not  only  in  England,  but  in  Scotland,  in  France,  in 
Swiss,  partnut.  What  of  english  travellers  ! 

Thus  I  rest  all  tranquilly  still  some  days  at  London.  There  he 
has  there  enough  of  place !  Since  the  great  heat  of  the  first  days 
of  the  month  the  temperature  is  less  elevated.  In  effect  some 
days  he  has  made  very  fine  and  very  agreeable.  I  walk  myself 
at  my  ease,  dressed  of  very  light  habits  and  of  hat  of  straw.  How 
the  streets  are  desert!  In  the  Piccadilly  there  is  not  almost 
anybsdy.  And  yet  the  park  at  side  is  still  very  beautiful.  Hut 
what  difference  since  the  feasts  of  the  Jubilee!  Mon  Dieu! 

I  amuse  myself  much  to  think  to  the  losses  of  the  speculators 
so  rapacious  who  made  to  construct  the  tribunes  for  that  day 
there.  They  have  well  merited  their  sort,  Uur  sort.  But  I  have 
heard  to  say  that  the  railways,  the  hotels,  the  theatres,  the 


magazines,  the  librarians-editors,  the  merchants  of  bicyclettes 
and  of  all  sorts  of  things,  have  lost  also  some  enormous  sums. 
What  damage,  qud  do/nmage!  I  demand  myself  for  why.  Who 
then  has  gained  ?  The  Londonians  have  dispensed  enormously  of 
money,  and  nobody  has  gained  anything.  Excepted  perhaps  the 
Germans,  who  fabricated  much  of  decorations,  of  remembrances, 
souvenirs,  for  these  english  feasts. 

It  are  alldays  the  Germans  who  gain.  If  NAPOLEON  First  lived 
still,  for  sure  it  would  be  the  Germans  whom  he  could  call  "  A 
Nation  of  Shoppers."  You  other  English  you  are  very  amiable 
md  you  love  the  Germans  when  even,  qucmd  menu:,  for  you  let 
•hem  to  serve  themselves  of  your  country  for  to  train  the  pigeons 
if  their  Ministry  of  War.  Bah,  c'est  trnp  fort .'  Your  compatriots 
ove  much  the  tir-anx-pigeons  at  Monte  Carlo.  Eh  well,  why  the 
nglish  sportmans  shoot  they  not  on  the  gennan  pigeons  ?  Me  I 
idmire  not  much  the  shoot  to  the  pigeons.  It  is  a  sport  truly 
despisable.  But  in  a  such  case  it  would  be  a  sport  of  the  most 
udmirables,  of  the  most  patriotics. 

The  Emperor  WILLIAM  would  be  furious,  he  would  send  some 
telegrams  partoiit,  he  would  implore  the  sympathy  of  his  best 
friends,  Mister  KRUOER  and  the  SULTAN — ah,  les  dignes  assucifs, 
GUILLAUME,  PAUL,  ABDUL  et  Cie.  ! — he  would  demand  of  new,  with 
still  more  of  violence,  the  augmentation  of  the  german  marine, 
')ut  he  would  rest  of  it  at  that.  And  the  English  also.  Your 
marine  so  magnificent,  she  is  alldays  the  best.  As  says  the 
english  poet,  you  would  "put  your  fingers  to  your  nose  and 
stretch  your  thumb."  Agree,  &c.,  AUGUSTS. 

"OUR  SQUARE   AT  THE   SEASIDE." 

(Extract  from  an  Intercepted  Ltttcr, ) 

WE  are  quite  proud  of  our  doings.  You  must  know  we  have 
a  committee,  and  they  manage  it  all  for  us.  V\  e  have  all  sorts 
of  burning  questions.  Some  one  wanted  to  bring  in  dogs  without 
muzzles,  but  the  committee  sternly  interposed,  and  said  they 
mustn't  do  anything  of  the  sort.  Many  of  our  houses  are  let  out 
in  apartments  to  people  from  Town,  and  we  can't  admit  them. 
The  gardener  was  ordered  "to  exclude  any  dog  unmuzzled,  or 
which  may  do  mischief  or  cause  annoyance,  and  to  report  the 
matter  to  the  committee."  Some  of  us  thought  that  the  com- 
mittee were  rather  putting  too  much  responsibility  upon  the 
shoulders  of  the  gardener.  How  can  he  tell  from  the  appearance 
of  a  dog  if  he  may  do  mischief  ?  Why,  any  dog  may  do  mischief. 
However,  the  gardener,  when  he  has  any  doubt,  will  probably 
report  the  matter  to  the  committee. 

We  all  hope  that  another  direction  to  the  gardener  to  "ex- 
clude dogs "  will  not  keep  him  unduly  from  his  work — which, 
after  all,  is  to  see  to  the  seeds,  the  grass,  and  gravel-paths.  The 
picture  of  the  gardener,  "  excluding  a  dog,"  chivying  it 
here,  there,  and  everywhere,  has  made  our  BOBBY  go  into  fits. 
But  our  lad  is  noted  for  his  sense  of  the  humorous.  Then  our 
committee  have  very  kindly  been  looking  after  our  keys  for  us. 
They  say  that  "  our  keys  are  not  to  be  lent  to  strangers !"  This 
is  a  happy  thought.  If  we  had  not  this  rule  to  guide  us  we 
should  have  been  parting  with  our  keys  to  every  passer  by.  We 
should  have  been  calling  to  every  stranger,  "Here,  my  good 
Sir,  you  are  doubtless  en  route  for  Australia.  Take  my  key  of 
the  Square.  You  can  return  it  when  you  come  back  from  the 
land  of  the  Southern  Cross." 

We  have  not  much  fault  to  find  with  our  committee,  save  that 
perhaps  they  are  not  sufficiently  explicit  in  their  "  regulations  " 
for  our  guidance.  For  instance,  they  say  "  that  persons  must 
close  the  gates  on  entering  and  leaving  the  gardens,"  and  yet 
utter  not  a  single  word  about  opening  the  same.  How  on  earth 
are  people  to  get  into  the  garden  unless  they  open  the  gates  ? 
That  is  what  is  bothering  us  just  at  present.  However,  at  the 
moment  it.  is  impossible  to  consult  the  gardener.  It  would  be 
perfectly  cruel  to  bother  him  on  so  trivial  a  matter  when  he  has 
?o  much  to  do  in  the  arriving  at  the  true  characters  of  dogs  (and 
some  curs  are  so  deceitful),  and  reporting  the  matter  to  the 
committee.  I  may  have  something  further  to  say  about  our 
Square  when  I  write  to  you  next. 


Mem.  by  a  Manager. 

To  say  "  boo  "  to  a  goose  requires  some  doing. 
In  theatres  'tis  the  goose  who  does  the  "booing." 
And  though  a  man  may  do  the  best  he  can.  Sir, 
An.wr  will  hiss,  though  hissing  may  not  answer! 


DESCRIPTION  OF  OUR  FAVOURITE  HOUSE-PIPE  AFTER  A  THVSDKK 
STORM. — It  never  drains  but  it  pours. 


4,   1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


97 


ENGLISH    AS    SHE    IS    WRITTEN. 

DURING   HIS   RECENT  TOTJR  IN   SWITZERLAND,   TOMKINB,    WHO   18  RATHER  NERVOTTS,    HAD 
A  MOST  TERRIFYING   EXPERIENCE. 


"  A  TOUCH  OF  THE  BADGER." 

(A  iay  of  the  Last  Stage  of  Labour.) 

"A    touch  of  the  badger!"    Ah,  yes,  so 

the  manager  told  me  that  day, 
Five  year  agone  now,  when  he  saw  that 

my  whiskers  were  fast  growing  grey. 
//  i.s  hair  was  as  white  as  old  Winter ;   but 

then  he  was  deputy-boss. 
And    1,    just    a   grizzled    old    grinder,   to 

whom  every  grey  hair  meant  loss. 
Tin  M>   words  were  a  knell   to   my  hopes, 

for  7  know,  yes,  heaven  help  me,  I 

know 
That  the  sun  of  a  labourer's  life  chills  and 

pales  with  the  first  patch  o'  snow. 

Yet  ain't  it  the  Good  Book  that  says 
hoary  locks  are  a  glory,  a  crown? 

Ah  !  not  at  the  bench  or  the  scaffold  !  The 
face  of  the  boss  wears  a  frown 


As  a  glance  from  the  tail  of  his  eye  tots 

you  up,  with  a  bit  of  a  stoop — 
First   sign   of  the   days   when  long  work 

curves    the    labourer's    back    like    a 

hoop — 
And  that  terrible  "touch  of  the  badger," 

the  curse  of  poor  children  of  toil, 
Which  gives  the  first  hint  to  the  masters 

that  greedy  old  Time 's  on  the  spoil. 
It   do   spoil   a    man,   do    the   grizzle,    the 

splash  o'  the  whitewash-brush.     Aye! 
Us   toilers  are   not  tittivators,   not   after 

the  days,  long  gone  by, 
When  first  we  "  walk  out "  with  a  sweet- 
heart.    Poor  Bess!   Time  has  spared 

her  that  touch 
Which  whitens  the  head  like  a  frost,  and 

which  tightens  the  heart  like  a  clutch; 
And  her  hair  is  as  berry-brown  now  as  it 

was  forty  long  year  ago. 
But  what  i.u  the  odds  if  7  "in  grizzled,  and 

bent,  and  a  little  bit  slow, 


And  ticked  in  the  gaffer's  discharge  list  P 
"  Your  terviee*  no  more  j'^,/.i.,/.'" 

[Tie  slip  with  those  words  on  means — 
doom ;  the  sharp  ending  of  all  we 
desired, 

The  stony  wide  world  and — the  work- 
house !  The  finish  of  hope  and  of 
fun. 

fho  seal  of  a  youth  that  is  vanished,  the 
sign  of  a  course  that  is  run. 

\  ml  yet  I  'in  hand-strong  and  heart- 
steady,  less  prone  to  the  drink  and 

tfcl  -kulk 
1'han   many  a  chap  in  his  thirties.     But 

that  seems  a  battered  old  hulk 
)vcr  which  the  grey  flag  is  seen  waring. 

And  if,  after  thirty-five  year 
>f  the  best  of  my  manhood,   old  gaffers 

don't  want  me  no  longer,  'tis  clear 
•few  gaffers  will  not  take  me  on.     Though 

I  tramp,  and  I  tramp,  and  I  tramp, 
in    the   chance   of    a    ioo,    till    the    dust 

makes    me    look    like    a   shiftless    old 

scamp. 
CTiat    grimy,    grey    flag 's   still   a-floating, 

and    warns    off  the    world   from    my 

track, 
Vs  the  ancient  sea-farers  were  warned  by 

the  gloomy  piratical  black. 
'Thrown  aside   like   an   old  boot  as  use- 
less ! "    Yes,   that   is   the   lot   of  our 

sort, 
And  "that's  the  last  act  in  the  drama," 

the  end  of  life's  comfort  and  sport. 
\Vho  whispers  about  Old  Age  Pensions? 

Well,  that 's  what  our  betters  do  get ; 
But  we  are  so  many,  you  see;    it  seems 

all  talkee-talkee,  as  yet, 
And — too  late  for  m«,  anyhow !     Ah !  my 

head's  in  a  whirl  and  a  daze. 
Thirty-five   year — and  thrown  out  I     Is  it 

manhood  and  pride,  or  sheer  craze. 
Sets    my  thoughts   all    a-hanker   round — 

Death,    like   a    light-maddened   moth 

round  a  flame  P 
Thirty-five    year,    and    thrown    out ! — for 

that  touch  of  the  badger !    A  shame ! 
A  shame  and  a  wrong!     Yes,  I  swear  'Hs 

not  Christian  and  fair.     Can  it  be 
When    the    age    that   brings    honour    to 

statesmen     brings     dark    desperation 

to  me? 
Poor  Bess  and  the  bairns!     Tisn't  fear, 

but     far    worser,    that    catches     my 

breath. 
I  gaze  on  the  grey  that's  my  bane  till 

the  yet  greyer  face  of  old  Death 
Draws — draws !     It  gleams  out  like  a  hope 

from    the    mist,    and    the    tangle    of 

thought. 

I  can  face  work  or  death — not  the  work- 
house. God  help  me!  Th  -/  poor 

moth  is  caught 
In  the  lure  of  the  one  light  in  darkness! 

Sit  idle  and  see  hfr  starve?     Nay! 
There  's  one  way  out  of  all !     Who  11  dare 

blame    him    who 's    helplessly    driven 

//..;/  way? 


WITH  APOIOGIES  TO  MR.  CONAN  DOYLE. 
— The  G-RM-N  EMP-R-R'S  latest  romance  is 
said  to  be  a  startling  Nihilist  romance 
entitled  The  Sign  of  Faure.  Orders  from 
Siberia  are  rushing  to  Berlin.  The 
Retreat  from  Moscow  is  treated  with  con- 
siderable humour,  and  the  Fall  of  Sevas- 
topol is  described  as  an  interesting  episode 
leading  up  to  the  liberation  of  the  Sultan 
of  TURKEY  from  the  pressure  of  the  Powers 
and  the  installation  of  Count  TOLSTOI  as 
First  President  of  the  Muscovite  Re- 
public. But  we  have  no  Imperial  authori- 
sation for  making  this  statement,  either 
from  the  Neva  or  the  Spree. 


vol.  oini 


98 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[SEPTEMBER  4,  1897. 


BUTCHER    VERSUS    BAKER. 

St other  See/.  /'Tnoir  BREST  IN  A  PARLOUS  STATE,  FRIEND  QUARTERN,  AND  NO  CKUMB 

OF  COMFOST  IN  THB  IUT0EB  1  " 

["  People  eat  more  meat,  and  therefore  want  less  bread." — Purport  of  Official  Report.} 


BY  THE  GOLDEN  SANDS." 

Torquay. — Here  old  Sol  reigns  supreme 
Not  old  SOL  so  well  known  on  'Change  in 
foggy  London,  but  Phoebus  Apollo,  the 
great,  the  brilliant,  the  magnificent,  or 
his  up-to-date  car,  the  greatest  "  scorcher  " 
out !  Over  two  hundred  and  fifteen 
miles  from  the  Metropolis,  Torquay  has 
nevertheless  the  charm  of  being  very  much 
in  the  world.  A  local  Peerage  would  be 
replete  with  the  records  of  the  resident 
Good  and  Great,  and  at  the  Club  the  fact 
that  "  Mr.  Jersey  "  first  sprang  into  splen- 
dour in  South  Devon  is  not  forgotten. 
Dartmoor  mutton,  clotted  cream,  and  red 
mullet  are  as  plentiful  as  blackberries,  while 
ladies  can  bathe  here  in  a  certain  cove 
with  all  the  privacy  of  Diana  and  her 
nymphs.  There  have  been  rumours  of  a 
shark's  appearance,  but  from  inquiry,  it 
seems  to  have  been  a  disabled  dolphin, 
but'  in  these  unclassical  days  our  fair 
naiads  need  not  fear  the  arrival  of  Orion. 
The  nightingale  is  said  to  be  unknown  in 
Devon,  but  as  we  were  passing  a  certain 
villa  not  a  thousand  yards  from  the  T.  B. 
Hotel,  we  fancied  that  our  naturalists 
must  be  altogether  mistaken.  Among  the 
latest  arrivals,  however,  is  Mme.  CHERU- 
BINA,  of  the  Royal  Italian  Opera,  Bucharest. 


In  Nuce. 

(By  a  Neo-  Celtic  Renascent. ) 

To  sum  up  all  history  well, 
Truth  into  one  maxim  we  '11  melt : 

All  Science  began  with  a  cell, 
All  Literature  with  a — Celt! 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

THE  stamp  "  Second  Edition  "  on  a  book  causes  the  heart  of  the 
author  to  rejoice.  Dr.  AUBREY  will  with  mixed  feelings  observe 
it  on  the  title-page  of  his  Rise  and  Growth  of  the  English  Nation 
(ELLIOT  STOCK).  Fire,  untroubled  by  the  controversy  round  the 
question  of  3<Z.  discount  in  the  shilling,  or  merely  2d.,  gobbled  up 
the  whole  of  the  first  edition  before  it  could  reach  the  shelves 
and  counters  of  rival  tradesmen.  Presumably  the  type  was 
standing,  or  a  chance  copy  of  the  book  was  preserved.  Even 
NEWTON  would  have  shrunk  from  resuming  the  "  many  years'  re- 
search and  labour"  to  which  Dr.  AUBREY  modestly  alludes  as 
having  produced  these  three  volumes.  His  design  is,  as  it  was 
that  of  the  late  J.  R.  GREEN,  to  present  not  pictures  more  or 
less  fanciful  of  kings,  great  statesmen,  and  renowned  soldiers,  but 
to  tell  us  how  the  people  worked  and  lived,  slowly,  for  centuries 
unconsciously  building  up  a  great  empire.  In  this  task  he 
has  fully  succeeded.  Not  that  he  leaves  in  misty  shape 
kings  and  queens  and  other  men  and  women  whose  names  are 
most  familiar  in  English  history.  He  has  the  gift,  essential  to 
success  in  such  endeavour,  not  only  of  lucidly  summarising  a  long 
course  of  events,  but  of  sketching  forceful  characters  within  the 
limits  of  a  page.  My  Baronite,  in  the  course  of  a  reading  he 
found  more  fascinating  than  many  novels,  is  struck  with  the  truth 
of  the  axiom  about  there  being  nothing  new  under  the  sun.  To 
cite  only  three  incidents  of  a  multitude  that  crowd  on  the 
memory  :  the  Salvation  Army  of  to-day  have  their  prototype  in 
the  Mendicant  Friars,  Dominicans  and  Franciscans,  who  took 
England  by  storm  at  the  beginning  of  the  Thirteenth  Century. 
The  Irish  Land  Leaguers  with  their  policy  of  boycotting  were 
forestalled  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who  in  1223  ordered 
that  no  persons  should  buy  from  or  sell  to  the  Jews,  or  even  have 
speech  with  them.  Thirdly,  but  not  less  striking,  the  imposition  of 
death  duties  by  the  Plantagenet  kings  largely  contributed  to  the 
revolt  which  wrested  Magna  Charta  from  the  unwilling  hands  of 
KingJoHN.  In  these  days  we  have  seen  how  the  latest  scion  of 
the  House  of  Plantagenet,  temporarily  in  power  as  Chancellor  of 
the  Exchequer,  claps  on  death  duties  on  a  scale  calculated  to 
bring  dukes  to  destitution. 

"474  and  just  out !  "  That  is  not  a  cricket  score.  It  is  merely 
the  number  of  pages  of  The  Jubilee  Book  of  Cricket,  mainly 
written  by  Prince  RANJITSINHJI,  published  m  one  handsome 


volume  worthy  of  the  fame  of  the  house  of  BLACKWOOD.  Every- 
one who  has  seen  "RANJI"  in  the  field,  whether  bowling  or  bat- 
ting, has  borne  in  upon  him  the  truth  that  he  knows  all  about 
cricket.  That  he  should  be  able  to  write  about  it  in  a  lucid,  in- 
structive, and  attractive  manner  is  quite  another  thing.  The 
Prince  is,  my  Baronite  tells  me,  nearly  as  completely  master  of 
the  quill  as  he  is  of  the  willow.  The  book  is  admirably  conceived, 
with  intention  to  instruct  the  player  in  all  that  pertains  to  the 
science  of  cricket.  When  a  cricketer,  young  or  old,  knows  all 
here  set  down  for  his  guidance,  he  will  have  nothing  in  the  world 
to  do  but  carry  out  the  instructions.  The  work,  the  most  com- 
pendious on  the  subject  ever  published,  has  its  value  increased  by 
a  number  of  photographs,  wonderfully  reproduced,  showing 
famous  cricketers  in  the  attitude  of  play.  These  also  will  be  most 
useful  to  the  novice.  In  his  spare  moments  he  can  pose  in  imita- 
tion of  the  living  pictures  of  the  Prince  hooking  a  short-pitched 
ball  on  the  wicket ;  of  MORDAUNT  ready  for  a  catch,  and  looking 
uncommonly  as  if  he  would  get  it ;  of  S.  M.  J.  WOODS  in  the  act 
of  delivery,  originally  studied  from  Ajax  defying  the  lightning ; 
or  of  WALTER  HUMPHREY  lob-bowling,  looking  as  if  butter  would 
not  melt  in  his  mouth,  much  less  as  if  the  bail  he  gingerly  holds 
between  fingers  and  thumb  would  be  so  mean  as  to  sneak  in  and 
take  a  wicket. 

My  Baronite  confesses  that  the  name  of  the  author  of  Ripple 
and  Flood  (HUTCHINSON)  is  new  to  him.  Yet  it  is  unlikely  that  a 
novel  so  cleverly  constructed,  so  living  in  its  characterisation,  so 
charming  in  its  description  of  rural  surroundings,  can  be  the 
work  of  a  beginner.  Taken  all  round,  it  is  certainly  among  the 
best  novels  of  the  year.  It  is  true  that  behind  it  there  is  a  dim 
echo  of  Great  Expectations,  one  of  the  best,  and  perhaps  the  least 
popularly  known  of  DICKENS'S  works.  In  both,  the  story  opens 
with  the  apparition  in  a  small  boy's  home-life  of  a  mysterious 
stranger.  There  is  an  uncle  as  hard-handed  as  was  Pip's  aunt, 
and  there  is  a  girl  to  be  loved,  a  strange-mannered  wench  in 
quite  different  ways  than  was  Estella.  These  may  be  fanciful 
identifications  on  the  part  of  the  reader,  or  acts  of  unconscious 
cerebration  on  the  part  of  the  writer.  However  it  be,  they  in  no 
wise  detract  from  the  charm  and  interest  of  a  powerful  story, 
through  which  ripple  the  waters  of  the  Trent,  and  murmurs  the 
country  life  lived  beside  its  banks. 

By  way  of  showing  their  scope  and  range,  Messrs.  HUTCHINSON, 
having  issued  one  of  the  best  novels  of  the  year,  simultaneously 


SBPTKMBKR  4,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


99 


I 


CONVERSATIONAL    PITFALLS. 

Miss  Meadownreet.  "  EXCUSE  MY  IGNORANCE  ;  BUT  OUGHT  I  TO  CALL  YOU  MR.  SQUIILS  OB  DOCTOB  SQUILLS!' 
The  Doctor.  "  OH,  CALL  MB  ANYTHING  YOU  LIKE.     BOMB  OF  MY  FRIENDS  CALL  MB  AM  OLD  FOOL  I " 
Miss  Meadowsweet.  "AH,  BUT  THAT'S  ONLY  PEOPLE  WHO  BNOW  YOU  INTIMATELY!" 


put  forth  what  is  probably  absolutely  the  worst.  As  far  as  pains- 
taking endeavour  can  master  the  purpose  of  That  Tree  of  Eden 
it  is  to  demonstrate  that  "  education,  as  we  apply  it,  is  not  oi 
necessity  a  good  thing  for  the  people."  Perhaps  not ;  but  il 
Mr.  NICHOLAS  CHRISTIAN  had  so  far  overcome  his  prejudices  ast< 
learn  the  elementary  principles  of  syntax,  and  the  simpler  form; 
of  grammar,  it  would  have  been  a  charity  to  the  reader.  Th« 
long-winded  tract  is  so  pragmatically  pompous  as  to  be  almost 
amusing. 

THB  BARON  DB  B.-W. 

"  IN  THE  NAME  OF  HONOUR— PLAY  !  " 

(Fragment  from  an  Athletic  Romance  of  the  Period.) 

PKKRLBSS  CRICHTON  was  the  most  popular,  aa  he  was  indeed 
the  most  accomplished  personage  in  his  part  of  the  country. 
Morning,  noon,  and  night  he  was  bombarded  with  applications 
for  help.  He  could  write,  paint,  and  compose.  There  wa/- 
nothing  he  could  not  accomplish.  It  was  early  morning  when, 
on  entering  his  breakfast-room,  he  found  visitors  already  as- 
sembled. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  a  man  with  a  careworn  face,  "  our  last 
piece  was  a  frost.  Can  you  knock  us  up  another  by  Tuesday  ?  " 

"  Consider  it  done,"  said  CRIOHTON,  cheerfully.  "  I  always  am 
pleased  to  oblige  a  friend." 

"  And  I,  Sir,  wish  to  appeal  to  your  goodness  of  heart — my  son 
is  ill.  He  had  promised  to  finish  a  portrait  that  an  Australian 
millionaire  is  taking  back  with  him  to  the  land  of  the  Southern 
Cross.  He  is  unable  to  finish  it.  Will  you  accept  his  task?  " 

;'\Vith  very  great  pleasure,"  replied  CRIOHTON.  "If  one 
painter  cannot  help  another  at  a  pinch  what  would  the  world 
come  to  ?  " 

"  And  you,  my  dear  fellow,  must  run  up  the  villa  for  the 
bride  and  bridegroom.  They  are  away  for  a  month,  and  it  is  my 


earnest  desire  that  their  nest  should  be  ready  by  their  return. 
My  daughter  will  be  so  disappointed  if  I  do  not  keep  the  promise 
made  to  her  mother  before  she  went  away." 

CRICHTON  silently  pressed  his  visitor's  hand  in  token  of  assent. 
Then  there  was  a  chorua  of  friends  who  wished  him  to  join 
various  boards  of  management — according  to  them,  with  such 
advantages  his  fortune  was  assured. 

"  I  have  already  too  much  to  do,"  he  returned,  with  a  smile. 
"After  I  have  written  the  play,  painted  the  portrait,  and  built 
the  villa  I  will  consider  my  own  affairs." 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  hurried  ring,  followed  quickly  by 
the  appearance  of  a  post-office  messenger. 

"Telegram,  Sir." 

CBICHTON  opened  the  envelope,  and  after  reading  its  contents, 
uttered  an  exclamation:  — 

"  I  must  leave  you  at  once,"  he  cried,  rushing  away  to  pack  up. 

"  But  how  about  our  theatre,  our  Colonial  patron,  our  son-in- 
law  P  "  cried  the  chorus. 

"  They  must  wait.  A  thousand  apologies,  but  they  must 
wait!" 

"  But  why  do  you  hurry  away  P  " 

"  Because,  my  dear  friend.  I  have  just  received  a  wire  saying 
that  I  have  been  chosen  to  play  for  my  county  at  cricket.  Am  I 
not  right  to  sacrifice  everything  to  accept  the  resppnaibility  ?  " 

Ana  his  friends,  in  spite  of  their  personal  inclinations,  were 
compelled  to  answer  the  question  in  the  affirmative. 


At  the  Seaside. 

landlady  (to  shivering  lodger).  No,  Sir,  I  don't  object  to 
your  dining  at  a  restorong,  nor  to  your  taking  an  'apenny  paper, 
but  I  must  resent  your  constant  'abit  of  locking  up  your  whiskey, 
thereby  himplying  that  me,  a  clergyman's  daughter,  is  prone 
to  larceny. 

[Lodger  immediately  hinds  her  tht  key  m  a  guarantee  of  good  faith. 


100 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[SEPTEMBER  4,  1897. 


ALTOGETHER    SATISFACTORY. 

Aunt  Fanny.  "  I  DO  LIKE  THESE  FRENCH  WATERING-PLACES.     THE  BATHING  COSTUME  is  so  SENSIBLE!" 
Hilda.  "On,  YES,  AUNTIE!    AND  so  BECOMING!" 


SOENI 


AN    ERROR    OF    JUDGMENT. 

A  DIALOGUE  STORY  IN  SEVEN  PARTS. 

PAST  IV. 
-The  Dining-room  at   "Sunny  Sank."    Lunch  is  proceeding ; 


Miss  LYDE  is  seated  opposite  NORA,  who  has  her  back  to  the  light ; 
BowATER/oces  GERALD.     KFZCA  is  waiting. 

Camilla  (to  herself).  Not  another  word  about  that  manuscript! 
I'm  dying  to  know  if  it  really  is  mine,  and  yet  I  can't  very 
well —  (Aloud.)  Mr.  BOWATER,  you're  making  a  very  poor 
lunch.  Do  let  me  give  you  another  cutlet  ? 

Bowater  (to  himself).  If  she  knew  the  effort  that  every  mouth- 
ful  !  (Aloud.)  Indeed,  no  more,  thanks.  In  this  hot 

weather  I  am  almost  a  vegetarian.  Indeed,  I  often  feel  inclined 
to  give  up  animal  food  altogether.  (To  himself.)  Will  she  be 
drawn  ^nto  an  argument  on  vegetarianism  ?  Such  a  safe  subject  1 

Camilla.  But,  my  dear  Mr.  BOWATER,  surely  such  a  hard- 
worked  man  as  you  cannot  afford  to  do  without  substantial 
nourishment?  Why,  putting  aside  the  ordinary  business  routine 
— of  which  I  know  nothing — the  mental  and  physical  strain  ot 
reading  and  forming  a  decision  upon  all  the  innumerable  manu- 
scripts you  receive  must  be  enormous. 

Bowater  (to  himself).  She  's  working  round  to  it  I  (Aloud.)  Oh, 
I — I  get  through  them  somehow.  And  I  shall  be  off  for  my 
holiday  very  soon,  now — to  the  Engadine.  Where  did  you  think 
of  going  this  summer  ? 

Camilla.  Why,  really,  I  've  made  no  plans  at  present.  And  so 
you  are  going  to  the  Engadine  ?  How  you  must  be  looking 
forward  to  getting  away  from  authors  and  all  their  works.  Not 
to  have  even  a  type-written  novel  to  toil  through  !  For  I  suppose 
the  typed  ones  aren't  quite  so  much  of  an  infliction,  are  they? 

Bowater  (to  himself).  I  '11  get  her  to  discuss  type-writers — they  're 
harmless  enough  I  (Aloud.)  Well,  you  know,  I  never  can  rid 
myself  of  a  certain  prejudice  against  the  type-writer,  except  for 
purely  business  purposes.  Somehow  it  seems  to  me  to  produce  a 
mechanical — I  might  almost  say  an  unliterary — effect  upon  even 
the  best  style.  Mere  fancy,  no  doubt.  I  wonder,  now,  if  you 
have  any  feeling  of  that  sort. 

Camilla.  I  never   could  bring   myself  to   use   one.     But   it 's 


strange  you  should  feel  so  strongly  as  that.  Do  tell  me,  was  thia 
anonymous  novel  you  were  so  carried  away  by  written  in  the 
ordinary  way,  or  was  that  type-written  ?  It  would  be  interesting 
to  know. 

Bowater  (to  himself).  It  would.  (He  tries  to  catch  GERALD'S 
eye,  in  vain;  NORA  endeavours  to  prompt  him,  noiselessly,  but 
he  fails  to  notice).  ALABASTER  must  know  which  it  was.  Why 

can't  he Well,  I  must  hedge,  that's  all!  (Aloud.)  Oh— 

er — of  course  I  should  not  allow  a  mere  prejudice  of  that  sort  to 
influence  me  in  the  case  of  a  work  of  superlative  merit. 

Camilla.  But  do  you  really  place  it  as  highly  as  that  ? 

Bowater.  My  dear  lady,  all  I  can  say  is  that  I  am  proud  to 
think  that  the  author  should  have  entrusted  it  to  me.  (To  him- 
self.) That 's  the  simple  truth.  I  am  proud  to  publish  anything 
by  her! 

Camilla.  And  you  know  nothing  about  the  author,  not  even 
if  it 's  a  man  or  a  woman  ? 

Bowater.  I  have  no  direct  information.  If  I  judged  by  the 
— er — virility  of  the  style,  I  might  be  led  to  conclude  that  only  a 
man —  •  On  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  delicacy  and  charm  in  the 
treatment  which  seem  to  betray  a  feminine  touch.  Mr.  ALA- 
BASTER thinks  it  must  be  a  woman's. 

Camilla  (not  entirely  pleased).  I'd  no  idea  that  Mr.  ALA- 
BASTER   You  have  shown  it  to  him  then  ? 

Bowater.  I  wanted  to  see  how  it  would  impress  him.  These 
young  fellows  fresh  from  the  University,  you  know,  ought  to  be 
good  judges  if  they  're  not.  He  can  tell  you  himself  what  he 
thinks  of  the  book.  I  believe  he  knows  more  about  it  than  I  do 
myself — has  it  almost  by  heart. 

Gerald  (reluctantly).  Well,  if  you  ask  me,  I — I've  never  read 
anything  at  all  like  it. 

Camilla.  But  have  you  discovered  a  new  JANE  AUSTEN,  or 
CHARLOTTE  BRONTE,  or  GEORGE  ELIOT,  then? 

Bowater.  Ah,  there  we  come  to  comparisons.  But  she  has  a 
style  and  manner  which  are  quite  her  own,  eh,  ALABASTER  ?  You 
wouldn't  say  that  she  belonged  to  any  particular  school  ? 

Gerald.  No,  I  don't  know  that  I  should.  (To  himself.)  Or 
been  at  any  I 

Camilla.  Mayn't  I  be  indulged  with  a  peep  at  this  wonderful 
book  ?  Perhaps  you  have  brought  it  for  me  to  see  ?  I  remember 


SEPTEMBKK  4, 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


101 


["  Li  CHUNG  TANO  ii  anxioiu  to  have  a  Model  Farm  orftniied  and  managed  under  Government." — Scho.~\ 

PROSPECTIVE    VIEW    OF   THE    PROPOSED    FARM,    BY    OUR    CHINESE    ARTIST. 


you  were  carrying  a  mysterious-looking  black  bag  this  morning. 
Was  it  inside  P 

Bowater.  Oh,  I — I  left  the  bag  at  Mr.  ALABASTER'S  on  my  way 
up.  But  that  manuscript  wasn't  in  it — that  'a  at  the  office.  (To 
himself.)  So  it  is,  at  the  posf-office.  (Aloi^d.)  I— I '11  send  it 
over  to  you  in  a  day  or  two,  if  I  may.  I  'm  sure  you  '11  be  de- 
lighted with  it. 

Camilla.  I  ought  to  be,  if  you  think  so  highly  of  it.  What  is 
it  called,  by  the  way  ? 

Bowater  (to  himself).  I'm  in  for  it  now  I  (Aloud.)  Why — er 
— Stolen  Sweets.  [KBZIA  represses  a  slight  start. 

Camilla  (to  herself).  Dear  Mr.   BOWATKR!     How  little  I 

But  he  mustn't  know  just  yet  I  I  wish  KRZIA  had  more  control 
over  herself.  (To  KEZIA,  in  an  undertone.)  KEZIA,  you  haven't 
given  Mr.  BOWATER  a  fork.  (Aloud,  to  BOWATER.)  Stolen 
Sweets  f  Really.  And  what  is  the  story  ? 

Nora  (to  herself).  He  mustn't  break  down  now,  after  getting 
on  so  well  I  That  horrid  KEZIA  suspects  something,  I  'm  sure. 
She's  quite  capable  of  telling  CAMILLA!  (Aloud.)  CAMILLA, 
wouldn't  it  be  nicer  to  hear  all  about  it  by  and  by,  in  the 
garden  P 

Bowater.  Yes,  it 's  too  long  a  story  to  tell  here.  I  couldn't  do 
it  justice — could  I,  ALABASIKK  '? 

Gerald.  No,  I  'm  afraid  you  'd  find  it  rather  difficult. 

Camilla  (to  herself).  I  can't  wait,  it 's  too  tantalising.  (Aloud.) 
Surely  you  could  give  me  some  idea  of  the  plot  P 

Bowater.  I  should  spoil  it  by  a  bare  outline.  It — it  doesn't 
depend  so  much  on  plot  as  on  treatment,  brilliancy  of  style, 
marvellous  character-drawing,  and — and  so  forth. 

Camilla  (restraining  her  delight).  I  see.  But — but  there  must 
be  some  scene  that  stnick  you  as  particularly  brilliant  ? 

Bowater.  It — it's  so  extremely  difficult  to  make  a  selection. 
But  that  scene,  the  one  you  and  I  were  talking  over  just  before 
lunch,  ALABASTER — you  know,  where — er — Lord  Helborough 

Camilla.  Lord  Helborough !? 

Gerald  (coming  tn  the  rescue).  Helbnurne,  I  think  Mr.  BOWATER 
said.  The  scene  where  he  decoys  the  heroine  into  a  deserted 
house,  and  swears  he  '11  get  her  dismissed  from  her  situation  unless 
slir  <igns  :i  deed  surrendering  »ll  her  estates  and  title P 

Boirater  (gratefully).  As  Countess  of — of  Chislehurst.  That's 
the  one  I  meant.  Magnificent ! 


N(,ra  (to  herself).  I  distinctly  saw  that  wretch  KBZIA  smirk. 
I  'm  afraid  to  look  at  CAMILLA. 

Camilla  (to  herself).  How  nearly  I —  But  fortunately  he 
didn't  notice.  I  daren't  meet  NORA'S  eye  ;  she  must  have  seen 
what  a  fool  I  've  been  making  of  myself.  (Aloud,  with  a  somewhat 
forced  laugh.)  Dear  me,  but  ail  that  sounds  rather  melodramatic, 
doesn't  it  P 

Bowater  (to  himself).  Trying  to  make  me  run  it  down.  So 
like  a  woman,  that  I  but  I'm  not  to  be  drawn.  <  .timid.)  Melo- 
dramatic P  Well — er — perhaps — in  the  highest  sense  of  the  term. 

Bat  the  villain,  Lord ,  the  title  I  mentioned,  he 's  capital, 

done  with  such  insight,  such  consummate  knowledge  of — ah — 
Society.  And  the  heroine,  a  most  charming  and  pathetic  crea- 
tion I  But  every  page  is  the  work  of  a  woman — that  is,  if  Mr. 
ALABASTER  is  right,  and  it  it  a  woman — a  woman  of  true  and  un- 
mistakable genius.  (Tii  himself.)  She's  all  that,  I'm  hanged  if 
she  isn't,  whatever  her  book  may  be  I  And  I  know  ALABASTER  's 
mistaken  about  it  I 

Camilla  (to  KBZIA).  Put  the  claret-jug  on  the  table  and  leave 
the  room.  (To  BOWATB-R.)  Then  you  expect  the  book  to  make 
a  sensation,  and  have  a  great  success  P 

Bowater  (cautiously).  Oh,  as  to  that — well,  there  is  so  much 
uncertainty  in  these  matters,  as  you  know.  But  it  deserves 
success.  Of  that  I  am  quite  certain.  And  the  writer  may 
rest  assured  that  I  shall  do  everything  in  my  power  to  en- 
sure it. 

Camilla  (to  herself ,  watching  KEZIA,  who  is  still  lingering  about 
with  the  claret-j\ig).  I  don't  want  to  speak  sharply  to  KEZIA,  but 
I  shall  have  to,  if  she  persists  in  staying  in  the  room  much  longer. 
It  is  mere  inquisitiveness !  (Aloud.)  Well,  Mr.  BOWATER,  the 
author,  whoever  she  may  be,  should  be  a  proud  and  happy  woman 
when  she  hears  how  highly  suih  a  judge  as  you  are  thinks  of  her 
work. 

Kezia  (suddenly  depositing  the  claret-jug  in  the  nearest  arm- 
chair, and  flinging  her  arms  round  the  neck  of  the  startled  and 
horrified  BOWATEB).  Oh,  I  am !  I  am  I 

[She  sobs  and  laughs  hysterically  on  his  shoulder;  the  l-diet  ait 
speechless  as  the  truth  dawns  upon  them,  and  GBRALD,  after  an 
heroic  strugglt  to  command  hit  features,  gives  way  and  gurgles 
helplessly  behind  his  napkin.  Tableau. 


102 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[SEPTEMBER  4,  1897. 


Lady  (engaging  Servant).  "I  OUGHT  TO  TBLL  YOU  THAT  WE  ARE  ALL  STRICT  TEETOTALERS 

HERE.      I  SUPPOSE  YOU  WON'T  MIND  THAT?" 

Mary  Jane.  "  OH,  NO,  MUM.     I  'VB  BEEN  IN  A  REFORMED  DRUNKARD'S  FAMILY  BEFORE  !  " 


WANTED,  AN  EDICT  OF  "NANTS." 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  was  horrified  to 
read  in  a  paper  of  absolute  responsibility 
of  the  number  of  deaths  which  have  oc- 
curred during  one  week  of  the  present 
"  drowning  season,"  and  I  ask  you  to  urge 
that  the  art  of  swimming  should,  in  pre- 
ference to  pianos  and  pedestrianism,  be 
taught  in  all  Board  Schools.  It  ia,  in  my 
opinion,  and  no  doubt  in  yours,  criminal 
that  boys  and  girls  should  not  be  instructed 
how  to  save  their  lives  when  accidentally 
thrown  into  water.  Since  the  time  when 
no  boy  was  allowed  to  boat  at  Eton  with- 
out "  passing  "  in  swimming,  I  believe  that 


not  a  lad  has  been  drowned.     What  has 
been  done  at  one  school  can  be  done  the 
kingdom  over.    Let  Parliament  look  to  it, 
with  your  support,  and  accidents  will  cease. 
Your  obedient  servant, 
LONG  STROKE. 


Outside  Messrs.   Cook's  Office. 

Charles  (reading  placard).  "Norway. 
Land  of  the  Midnight  Sun."  What's 
that  mean,  'ARRY? 

'Arry.  Oh !  one  of  that  bloomin'  NAN- 
SEN'S  expeditions  to  the  North  Pole ! 
There  "s  moonlight  in  those  parts  all  day 
long,  and  wice  wersay  I 


BORN,  SKI-TEMHBK  6,  1840. 
DIBD,  AUGUST  26,  1897. 

BY  his  death,  not  entirely  unexpected, 
seeing  that,  for  weeks  past,  owing  to  pro- 
tracted illness,  he  had  heen  absent  from 
our  Council-Board,  we  of  Mr.  Punch's 
Staff  have  lost  a  staunch  friend  and  an 
invaluable  fellow-worker.  An  earnest 
student  of  Literature,  he  was  gifted  with  a 
power  of  keen  discrimination,  a  retentive 
and  accurate  memory,  combined  with  the 
rare  talent  of  most  happily  applying  past 
"  situations,"  whether  in  history  or  in  fic- 
tion, to  the  illustration  of  contemporary 
instances.  Though  of  strong  political  con- 
victions, MILLIKEN  was  a  true  Liberal  in 
the  fullest  sense  of  the  word ;  always  most 
pnxious  to  thoroughly  master  both  sides 
of  every  question,  whether  political  or 
social,  that  might  arise  in  the  course  of 
discussion,  before  expressing  a  decided 
opinion.  MILLIKEN  was  a  born  poet ;  his 
wit  and  humour  finding;  their  natural  ex- 
pression in  verse,  both  grave  and  gay. 
What  THACKERAY  did  for  "  Jeames," 
MILLIKEN  effected  for  "  'Arry."  His 
Byronic  "  Childe  Chappie's  Pilgrimage," 
which,  after  achieving  an  exceptional 
popularity  in  Punch,  subsequently,  on 
being  published  separately,  went  through 
several  editions,  will  always  remain  a 
characteristic  specimen  of  the  man  and  his 
work,  at  once  satirical  and  sympathetic. 

Farewell !  good  Friend  and  Fellow- 
Labourer  I  Requiescat. 


DOLCE  FAR  NIENTE. 

(As  especially  observed  at  the  seaside.) 

SOME  folks  spend  their  bottom  dollar 
Rushing  o'er  the  Continong, 

Toiling  round  against  the  collar, 
Jostling  with  a  madding  throng. 

Some  co-operate  in  travel, 

Educated  as  they  go — 
Dons  and  lecturers  unravel 

All  the  learned  lore  they  know. 

Others  cultivate  Nirvana 

In  a  hammock  or  canoe 
With  the  herb  nicotiana 

And  a  cup  of  fav'rite  brew. 

But  of  dolce  far  niente 

To  the  most  absurd  degree 

Devotees  you  '11  see  in  plenty, 
When  you  're  "  by  the  silver  sea." 

Here 's  a  couple,  honeymooning 
Right  in  front  of  where  we  sit ; 

With  their  curious  way  of  spooning, 
Do  they  mind  us  ?    Not  a  bit ! 

Tell  me,  do  the  warm  sea-breezes 
Bear  a  germ  that  love  inspires, 

And  with  sheer  abandon  seizes 
Lady-trippers  and  their  squires  ? 


Scotland  for  Ever ! 

Benjamin  Barking  Cretk  (thinking  he  it 
going  to  putt  the  mighty  leg  of  the  MAC- 
TAVISH).  But  jou  must  allow  that  the 
national  emblem  of  your  com.  try  is  the 
thistle. 

The  MacTavish.  And  for  why?  Because 
we  grow  it  for  ye  Southrons  to  eat ! 

[Exit  B.  B.  G. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.— Si 


4, 


o'.w  v   3e 


LUCK  AT  LAST! 


Cer«  (to  Br«t*A  ^arm«r).     "  LET  MB  INTRODUCE  MISS  PROSPERITY." 

/•umer.    "LAW,  MISS,  YOU  DO  BE  QUITE  A  8TRANOEB  IN  THESE  PARTS!     WELL,  I'M   HEARTILY 
GLAD  TO  SEE  YE,  AND  I  HOPE  YE'VE  COME  TO  STAY!  I" 

["  The  rise  in  wheat  values  in  thii  country  during  the  put  six  weeki  haa  been  from  8*.  to  8f .  6d.  per  quarter,  and  ai  the  harreit  in  England  hat  been 
unusually  early,  and  better  (with  Karcely  an  exception)  than  the  rert  of  the  world,  the  farmen  hare  benefited." — Daily  faptr.] 


SEPTEMBER  4.  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


105 


HIS    "FIRST." 

Brown  (good  Chap,  but  never  fired  a  Oun  in  hit  life).  "  1  SAY,  YOU  FALLOWS,  I  DON'T  MIND  CONFICBINQ  THAT  I  AM  A  BIT  NIBVOUH, 

YOU  KNOW.    /  HOP*  mom  of  TO  a  WILL  PMPPMX  JlMt" 


TO  THE  EMINENT  DAILY  PARACRAPHIST. 

I  CANNOT  let  the  season  wane 

Without  a  tribute  to  your  skill, 
Although  in y  sides  have  ached  with  pain 

When  taking  every  day  your  pill. 
It  is  a  bolus  silver-clad 

That 's  swallowed  by  the  common  herd ; 
And  e'en  the  "  Labbyest  "  of  Kad 

Will  swallow  anything  absurd, 
Provided  that  the  "  par  "  contains 

An  inuendo  somewhat  blue, 
No  matter  where  the  fiction  stains 

(It 's  purity  compared  with  you). 
And  so  I  gladly  drink  your  health 

With  all  the  tribe  of  Cock  and  Bull. 
You  brim  the  cup,  you  win  your  wealth, 

And  from  a  drop  make  columns-full ; 
But  while  your  humour  some  folk  suits, 
Let  me  remind  you  there  are  boots! 


LONG  AGO  LEGENDS. 

Y>  MlSTKESSI   AND  TB  MAY!)!. 


A  Direct  Insult. 

The.  MacTavish  (throwing  down  a  tradf 
circular).  Here's  a  confounded  Lowlander 
frae  the  Border  spelling  whuskey  without 
an  "  e,"  and  expects  me  to  patronise  his 
mixture  of  English  gin  and  German  potatoe 
speerits  I  To  Heligoland  wi'  the  loon  I 

[And  the  poor  traveller  afterwards  got  into 
trouble. 


THKHK  was  a  laydie  who  was  both  fru- 
gale  and  carefulle.     It  is  sayed  of  her  that 


she  wolde  make  her  mayde  slyde  downe  ye 
banysteres  toe  save  ye  stayre  carpettea; 
and  she  herselfe  wolde  tread  on  ye  unfre- 
quented partes ;  alsoe  that  sne  wolde  turne 
ye  pictures  iace  toe  ye  walle  when  she  ex- 
pected not  companie,  soe  that  their  col- 
oures  shuld  not  fayde,  and  such  lyke. 
Ally  though  she  maye  not  have  been  borne 
wy the  a  sylvere  spoone  in  her  mouthe,  one 
was  alle  ways  there  when  she  toke  her 
meales,  ffor  she  was  of  refyned  taste. 

Ouo  morne  she  went  intoe  ye  kitchen. 
"  What,"  cryed  she  toe  her  mayde,  "  a 
wastynge  your  houres  a  syttynge  all  thys 
longe  while  overe  your  meale  I " 

"  Nay,  mystresse."  replyed  ye  mayde. 
"  I  have  not  wasted  one  momente,  ffor  1 
have  been  eatynge  ye  whole  of  ye  tyme." 

"  And  my  sylvere  spoone  I "  cryed  ye 
laydie,  takynge  it  uppe  from  ye  table. 
"Have  I  not  tolde  you,  wench,  never  toe 
use  ye  plate  in  ye  kitchen  t " 

"  Nay,  mystresse,"  sayed  ye  mayde,  "  no 
parte  of  your  sylvere  spoone  has  passed 
my  lippes,  neithere  have  I  stirred  pot 
wyth  it.  I  did  but  use  it  juste  now  for  a 
shoe  borne  I " 

Why  ye  mystresse  did  cloute  her  ye 
mayde  did  marvayll  gretlie. 


DlFFKRRNCB  ON  THB  INDIAN  FBON- 

TIEH — Half-readies  and  Whole-readies. 


106 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


SEPTEMBER  4    1897. 


A    REMINISCENCE    OF    A    RECENT    BANK    HOLIDAY. 

'Arry,  "'Ow  MUCH  AN  HOUB,  GUV'NOK?"  Horaekeeper.  "  E  GHTEENPENCE."  'Arry.  "ALL  BIGHT.     I'LL  HAVE  A  HIDE." 

Horsek'eper.  "WELL,  YOU'VE  GOT  TO  LBAVE  'ARF  A  CROWN  ON  THE  'ORSB  !" 


"DOWN    SOLTII" 

IT  would  be  difficult  to  particularise  the  many  varieties  ot 
clerical  costume  that  may  be  seen  on  board  the  Empress,  the 
Monarch,  or  on  any  one  of  the  Bournemouth  boats,  when  making 
their  voyages,  either  half-way  round  the  island,  or  all  round  it 
("a  circular  tour"),  or  when  facetiously  touching  it  at  points, 
giving  it  playful  nudges  on  the  coast,  saying,  as  it  were,  Here 
we  are  again  I  "  and  then  going  off  full  sped. 

In  respect  of  dress,  the  majority  of  the  English  clergy,  en 
vacance,  affect  a  sort  of  holiday  compromise. 

Sad-coloured  trousers,  and  short  coats  made  of  black  alpaca, 
do  not  stamp  their  wearers  as  belonging  to  any  particular  calling 
in  life,  while  yet  retaining  for  them  a  certain  air  or  such  mysterious 
respectability  that  the  ordinarily  unobservant  traveller,  unless  he 
catches  a  glimpse  of  the  distinctively  clerically-cut  waistcoat, 
and  the  white  band  which  does  economical  duty  for  a  tie  and  a 
shirt-collar,  would  not  feel  himself  justified,  supposing  him  to  be 
of  a  sporting  turn,  in  laying  odds  on  the  wearePs  profession. 
The  soft  black  felt  wide-awake  indeed  might  be  taken  as  peculiarly 
characteristic,  if  "clericals"  invariably  stuck  to  it.  But  they 
don't ;  and  as  tweed  caps,  black  silk  caps,  hats  of  black  straw, 
hate  of  dark  brown  straw,  and  hats  of  mixed  black-and-white 
straw,  are  equally  in  fashion,  it  is  only  by  the  collar  and  the  vest 
that  their  wearers  can  with  any  degree  of  certainty  be  identified 
with  his  reverend  order. 

Numbers  of  thoroughly-prepared  tourists  there  are  too  on 
board,  sitting  stiffly  on  their  chairs  (the  first  and  chief  object  of 
every  traveller  on  these  boats  is  to  secure  a  chair  and  the  best 
position  for  it),  resolutely  shutting  their  eyes,  metaphorically 
speaking,  to  the  fact  that  they  are  on  board  a  vessel,  as  they  try 
to  lull  themselves  into  fancied  security  against  mal-de-mer  by 
keeping  their  heads  rigidly  bent  over  their  newspapers  or  books, 
making  brave  attempts  to  ignore  the  sea,  and  practising  on  them- 
selves a  further  deception  by  making  believe  that  they  are  quite 
at  home  and  reading  the  morning  paper  in  their  own  comfortable 
easy  chairs.  While  nervously  alert  to  the  slightest  sound,  and 
painfully  conscious  of  the  least  oscillation,  they  vainly  delude 


themselves  with  the  idea  that  they  are  deaf  to  all  noises,  and  to 
any  "  disturbing  causes  "  ;  yet  they  durst  not  budge  an  inch  from 
their  moorings  ;  and  how  inconsiderate  and  even  cruel  do  they  not 
think  the  conduct  of  the  first  mate,  who  disturbs  their  temporary 
serenity  by  requesting  them  to  go  through  the  prosaic  and  really, 
as  it  seems  to  them,  quite  unnecessary  formality  of  answering 
his  polite  but  not  totally  disinterested  inquiries  as  to  their 
destination,  inquiries  which  he  follows  up  with  an  uncompromi- 
sing demand  for  immediate  payment  in  exchange  for  a  ticket. 

The  official's  demands  having  been  complied  with,  the  seated 
travellers  are  left  to  settle  down  again  as  comfortably  as  possible, 
when  they  are  once  more  politely  disturbed  (the  routine  is 
carried  out  with  the  utmost  courtesy)  by  the  sailor  who  has  come 
to  receive  a  penny  for  the  chair,  in  exchange  for  which  he  hands 
a  numbered  ticket.  They  are  now  the  happy  possessors  of  a 
ticket  for  the  pier,  a  ticket  for  the  boat,  and  a  ticket  for  the 
chair,  and  these  they  stow  away  in  secret  pockets,  causing  them- 
selves, subsequently,  much  agitation  and  anxiety  through  being 
unable,  at  the  critical  moment  of  collection,  to  remember  where 
on  earth  they  had  hidden  them  away,  and  irritating  a  consider- 
able number  of  their  fellow-passengers  who  have  got  their  tickets 
all  ready  and  waiting,  and  who  audibly  express  their  disgust  at 
"the  stupidity  of  persons  who  can't  nave  their  ticket*  in  their 
hands,  and  who  selfishly  obstruct  others  from  getting  off  the 
boat. 

There  are  some  children,  the  inevitable  baby  who  can't  be  left 
at  home,  or  else  "  mother  couldn't  have  come,  the  comic  men,  a 
few  (very  few)  'Arrys,  and  just  a  sprinkling  of  'Arriets,  nauti- 
cally-attired  men  with  glasses,  trying  to  look  as  if  they  had  just 
come  off  their  yachts  ;  bicyclists  of  course,  their  bicycles,  regarded 
with  considerable  disfavour  by  the  officials,  being  stowed  away 
somewhere  or  other ;  demure  girls,  laughing  girls,  flirting  girls, 
fathers  and  mothers  in  full  consciousness  of  "standing  treat," 
but  all  in  excellent  temper,  ready  to  give  and  take,  and 
thoroughly  determined  to  enjoy  their  outing,  come  what  may. 

If  the  weather  only  "keeps  fine,"  if  the  sun  shines,  if  the  sea 
and  the  waters  of  the  Solent  are  only  calm,  then  how  nautical 
they  all  become  I  Not  a  soul  on  board  but  is  every  inch  a  sailor ! 


SSPTRMBER    4,     1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


107 


NX* 


THE    EVOLUTION    OF    FELIX    FAURE-TUNATUS   THE    FIRST. 


They  point  out  to  one  another  which  is  the  Prince  of  WALM'B 
yacht,  which  is  the  German  Emperor's, — all  wrong  of  course,— 
while  some  well-informed  person,  knowing  rather  less  about  it 
than  anybody  else  on  board,  confidently  corrects  everybody, 
until  the  captain,  casually  overhearing  him,  sets  him  right  on 
every  point,  and  so,  quietly,  but  effectually,  sits  on  him  ;  where- 
upon the  nautical  impostor  disappears,  and  is  neither  seen  nor 
heard  any  more  ;  and  the  captain,  having  delivered  himself  oracu- 
larly, and  said  as  much  as  he  was  going  to  say  on  the  subject, 
remains  perched  up  aloft,  subsiding  into  the  quiet  perusal  of  a 
newspaper,  occasionally  raising  his  eyes  to  sight  his  glasses,  or  to 
address  some  remark  to  the  man  at  the  wheel,  with  whom  only 
the  captain  has  the  privilege  of  holding  a  conversation. 

So  we  go  on,  round  the  island,  seeing  the  yachts ;  then,  on 
another  occasion,  to  Portland  to  inspect  the  battleships,  and 
humming  "  Rule  Britannia  "  as  we  glide  swiftly  along,  looking  at 
the  vessels  of  every  nation. 

Doing  this  from  day  to  day,  the  landsman  becomes  emboldened, 
and,  in  an  expansive  moment,  says  to  his  companions  twain, 
"  \\hy  should  we  not  go  to  Southampton  and  take  a  cruise  to 
the  Channel  Islands  P  "  For  response  they  sing,  "  We  will  1  We 
will !  " 

So  now  for  the  "  Daylight  Trip,"  on  board  The  Saucy  "  Stella," 
The  Flying  "  Frederick,"  or,  The  Lively  "  Lydia  "  t  Away  I  The 
Rover  is  free — to  go  to  Jersey  I  Away  1 


"  ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  A  GHOST." 

(By  Our  Up-to-date  Spectre-beholder.) 

I  WAS  really  quite  pleased  with  my  spectral  visitor.  As  I  sat 
in  my  study  at  work  she  was  most  careful  not  to  interrupt  me. 
She  never  opened  or  closed  a  door,  but  glided  through  the  walls 
without  creating  the  least  disturbance. 

"I  would  feel  grateful  for  a  chat,"  said  I,  one  evening,  after 
my  work  was  done,  "if  you  have  no  better  engagement.  But  if 
you  have,  pray  do  not  let  me  clash  with  your  arrangements." 

The  spectre,  which  was  on  the  point  of  vanishing  through  a 
book-case,  most  graciously  returned  to  an  arm-chair,  and,  so 
to  speak,  over-shadowed  it. 


"  Are  you  able  to  speak  P  "  I  asked.  And  my  visitor  moved 
her  head  in  the  negative.  "Can  you  hoar?"  She  nodded  in 
the  affirmative. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  situation  ?  " 

I  am  not  a  proficient  in  gesticulation,  but  as  far  as  I  could 
understand  her  signs,  she  seemed  to  hold  strong  views  on  the  sub- 
ject of  education.  From  what  I  could  gather  she  appeared  to  be  in 
favour  of  endowing  voluntary  schools,  and  was  not  adverse  to  the 
reduction  of  the  grant  to  State-assisted  institutions.  She  also 
seemed  to  consider  that  the  British  occupation  of  Egypt  wa» 
perfectly  defensible. 

'•  And  I  presume  you  believe  in  apparitions  P  "  I  murmured, 
smilingly.  ".Your  presence  here  is  a  proof  of  that  faith." 

Well,  no.  she  did  not.  Her  wonderfully  explanatory  byplay 
suggested  the  reverse.  I  gathered,  from  her  attitudes,  that  she 
thought  that  the  subject  was  open  to  the  introduction  of  fraud. 
Not  only  this,  the  imagination  might  play  tricks  and  cause  one 
to  fancy  real  what  was  unquestionably  imaginary. 

"  Have  you,  yourself,  been  seen  before  f"  I  asked,  with  some 
interest.  In  a  moment  she  had  told  me  by  her  pantomime  that 
she  had  appeared  to  an  army  doctor,  a  professor  of  history,  and 
a  well-known  chemist.  She  sketched,  with  much  brilliancy,  the 
characteristics  of  each.  The  medico  was  fond  of  professional 
jokes,  the  man  of  science  of  good  food,  and  the  chemist  of  artifi- 
cial flowers.  By  this  time  the  night  was  growing  late,  and  I  felt 
that  it  would  be  well  if  I  returned  to  my  books.  My  visitor 
immediately  took  the  hint  and  began  to  disappear  through  the 
tapestry. 

Good  evening.  I  hope  I  shall  see  you  shortly."  She  drew 
herself  up  to  her  full  height,  and  certainly  was  imposing.  Then 
she  smiled  sadly,  and  vanished. 

I  have  nothing  more  to  write,  beyond  expressing  my  mature 
opinion  that  I  am  quite  sure  that  my  visitor  was  no  less  a  person 
than  Queen  ELIZABETH. 

To   Bombastes. 

"  MAXIMS  of  civilisation  ?  "    That 's  yonr  run. 
Your  only  maxim  is — a  Maxim  gun. 
And  "  civilising,"  in  your  cynic  mirth, 
Means — sweeping  "  niggers  "  off  the  face  of  the  earth. 


108 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[SEPTEMBER  4,  1897. 


BY   THE    SAD    SEA    WAVES. 

Ancient' Mariner  (indicating the  Ocean).  ",!F  THAT  THERE  WAS  ALL  BSSR,  GUV'NOR,  THERE  WOULDN'T  BE  NO  'Ian  TIDES'" 


8POETIVE    SONGS. 

(A  jealous  person  of  the  male  persuasion,  hiring  heard  from,  his  lady-lo^e 
of  the  attentions  of  an  artist  in  Italy,  writes  a  metrical  letter  never 
desvatchrd  ) 

How  little  you  know  of  the  state  of  affairs 

When  you  write  in  that  absolute  way. 
My  life  is  a  desert  of  horrible  cares, 

Whereon  sunshine  can  never  more  play. 
The  one  small  oasis  I  hoped  was  my  own 

I  have  lost  with  the  change  of  your  heart, 
And  now  I  am  friendless,  forsaken,  alone, 
Yet  too  gentle  to  say  "  We  must  part !  " 

Yet  you  know  it  and  knew  it  when  penning  those  lines 

(Did  your  mother  assist  in  the  text  ?), 
You  say  that  you  wrote  them  'mid  scent-bearing  pines, 

By  a  lake  that  no  storm  ever  vext, 
While  the  peeps  of  blue  sky  were  like  windows  above 

O'er  the  branches  that  swayed  in  the  breeze, 
While  the  birds  sang  of  happiness,  dreamland  and  love, 

As  they  flitted  about  in  the  trees  ! 

Your  picture  was  worthy  to  show  on  the  walls 

Of  the  New  or  at  Burlington  House, 
To  be  labelled,  "  The  Springtide  that  Autumn  recalls," 

Or,  "Another  Chance  yet  for  the  Mouse!" 
It  would  probably  sell  if  your  dear  artist  friend 

Would  embellish  the  work  with  your  face, 
Some  beauty  to  paint  you  he  'd  possibly  lend, 

And  if  he  can  draw,  well,  some  grace  1 

But  the  picture  for  me  is  the  one  that  I  framed 

In  the  glow  of  a  yesterday's  gold, 
It  is  fresh  as  it  was  when  the  subject,  unnamed, 

Was  quite  young,  though  to-day  it  is  old  ! 
When  I  called  you  the  Mouse  and  you  styled  me  the  Cat, 

Because  I  had  caught  you  at  last. 
Through  one  long  afternoon  you  said  "  This  "  and  I  "  That," 

And  your  "  This  "  rhymed  to  "  Kiss  "  in  the  past. 


But  now  since  you  cozen  to  spots  and  that  man, 

Who  is  MILLAIS  and  LEIOHTON  combined, 
I  will  hie  to  Beersheba  or  even  to  Dan, 

So  long  as  our  love  's  left  behind. 
So  long  as  I  never —    •    Good  Heavens  1  what 's  this 

You  write  in  "  P.S."  over-page? 
"You  must  not  be  angry,  or  take  things  amiss, 

He  is  eighty — and  old  for  his  age ! 

KEW-BIOS. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — It  is  to  be  hoped  that  a  recent  decision  of 
the  Richmond  magistrates  will  not  convert  the  lovely  domain 
known  as  Kew  Gardens  into  a  general  picnic-place.  The  wise- 
acres in  question  have  declared  that  hand-bags  might  be  taken 
into  the  pleasaunce,  an  importation  hitherto  forbidden.  Perhaps 
the  worthy  disnensers  of  local  law  have  never  seen  Kew  Green 
after  a  Bank  Holiday  celebration.  I  did  once,  on  the  sly,  after 
dark.  Kew  Gardens,  under  similar  license,  would  simply  be 
ruined  for  ever,  and  paper  and  ginger-beer  bottles  be  as  common 
as  flowers.  My  friend  the  Pelican,  who  shares  the  islet  on  the 
pond  with  me,  declares  that  he  would  rather  retire  into  the 
wilderness  were  hand-bags  permitted,  but  then,  like  myself,  he 
does  not  live  on  bread-crusts,  like  the  ducks.  But,  chatting, 
together  last  night,  after  a  copious  fish  dinner,  we  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  Public,  who  pay  for  the  maintenance  of  the 
Gardens,  ought  certainly  to  be  admitted  to  their  property  before 
mid-day,  despite  the  opposition  of  Mr.  THISELTON-DYER,  his 
personal  friends  with  free  admission,  and  his  staff  of  German 
Generals  in  disguise.  The  excuse  made  about  interference  with 
students  is  a  yarn,  which  I  should  like  to  relate  to  the  Marines, 
whom,  in  my  childhood,  I  occasionally  flitted  across  in  the  Solent. 
To  sum  it  up  briefly,  the  programme  of  both  the  Pelican  and 
myself  is,  "No  hand-bags,  earlier  hours,  and  whitebait  three 
times  a  week."  Your  obedient  servant, 

Kew  Gardens  Hotel.  PHINEAS  THE  CORMORANT. 

p.S. — We  see  your  paper  by  means  of  an  arrangement  with  the 
Mandarin  ducks,  who  take  it  in,  but  are  unable  to  read  it. 


SBPTKMBER  11,  1R97.J 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


109 


AGRICULTURAL    ELEVATION. 

Farmer.  "  WELL,  NO,  THEY  MAYN'T  BK  IXACTLY  OBJECKS  o'  BEAITTT, 

>s  TOU  8A^8,    8lR;   BIT  TH«Y   DO   *KLP  TBE   'ARVFBT    WOlfDlRfm!" 


AUGUSTS  EN  ANGLETERRE. 
A  MATCH  ow  CRICKET. 

PEAK  MISTER,— For  to  avoid  the  great  heat  and  for  to  respire 
the  air  of  the  sea,  I  have  quitted  London  there  is  three  weeks, 
and  I  am  gone  to  Eastbourn.  If  I  have  respired  the  air  of  the 
MM  '  M ni'  Ilii'u  .'  Since  all  that  time  he  has  made  a  time  of  the 
most  st  orm  vs ;  without  cease  some  wind,  some  rain,  some  tem- 
posi.-.  Impossible  of  to  make  excursions  in  sea,  one  would  not 
be  en  mtr  but  (Jans  la  mer!  Impossible  of  to  repose  himself 
tranquilly  on  the  p/af/c  at  the  middle  of  a  hurricane  ;  impossible 
even  of  t  j  stroll  on  the  promenade  !  Two  times  I  have  essayed  of 
to  carry  a  new  hat  of  straw.  Each  time  he  is  parted  all  to  the 
fur,  tout  au  lain,  at  the  beyond  of  Pevensy  probably.  The  um- 
brellas are  absolutely  unuseful.  Alldays  he  must  to  walk  himself 
in  maokintosch  and  in  casket  of  voyage.  Even  one  desires  to 
carry  a  "south-western  "  hat,  as  the  marines. 

By  a  such  time,  what  to  do?  One  speaks  to  me  in  the  hotel 
of  i  \c  ursions  in  train  to  Hastings  and  to  Brighton.  But  is  it 
that  li  '  makes  tine  there  down?  At  Brighton — ah  no,  by  ex- 
ample !  I  recall  to  myself  the  tempests  at  Brighton  there  is  nine 
months.  And  however.  One  speaks  to  me  of  the  games,  that 
which  you  call  a  "  match  of  cricket  "  or  a  "  cricket-game,"  which 
have  place  at  Brighton.  He  appears  that  these  games  are  the  most 
remarkable  in  the  department  of  the  Sussexshire,  and  that  one 
there  sees  to  play  the  famous  Indian,  who  calls  himself — sapristi, 
quel  nom  '.  How  to  write  him  ?  Try  we.  RANHJTJSHIHJTJHTIHJ, 
or  something  as  that.  Eh  well,  I  have  never  seen  a  great  cricket- 
game.  Impossible  of  to  find  a  hurricane  more  violent  at  Brighton, 
evidently  one  can  to  refuge  himself  in  a  tribune,  at  the  least  it 
is  something  to  do.  I  go  there. 

Thus  I  part  the  thirty  and  one  of  the  past  month,  provided  of 
a  mackintosh  and  carrying  on  the  head  an  impermeable  casket. 


Ut.-r  some  time  I  arrive  to  Brighton.     Tifnt!     He  makes  fine. 

1  mount  in  '  tl\  ,"  I  ,ay  1,1  tli,.  roach,  -i-  ,  "  do  t,,  tli,'  cricket  -game." 
we  file  enough  quirk,  and  we  arrive.  As  soon  as  entered  I  cn- 
'•ounter  a  lit  tie  boy  who  sells  some  programme*.  I  buy  of  them 
one  for  better  to  rmnprelieiid  the  game-,  and  then,  swing  a 
tribune  at  the  shelter  of  the  wind,  I  pay  one  shilling  and  I  sit 
myself  tin-rein. 

Before  me  .  \t.  n.|,  h.-r  ,  It  a  verdant  praiiie.     All  around  there 
is  some  tribune-.  -om.    K.-nclies,  and  a  treat  assistance.     That  has 
almost   the  air  of  an  arena,  and   I  think  to  th«   pin  n  ,1.    t,,m.i  at 
Madrid,    where    I    have    seen    one   time    t  lie    courses    of    bulls. 
The  national  sports,  cngli.sh  and  Spanish.      Hut   what   difference' 
Not    of    larcrat.  d    linr-cN,    not   of  tortured   bulls,   not    of   blood 
stained   sand  !     Ah   no!     A    simple    prairie   of  beautiful   "  gn  ,,n 
•nii/lui*,"  and  at   the  middle  some  peaceful  men,  dressed  of  white, 
\vhoamu-c  th,  mselves  to  pursue  a  little  ball.     A  ball,  not  a  bull 
'  'V.J  rlinrihinit  ' 


Naturally  I  have  often  heard  to  speak  of  the  cricket,  but  I 
have  never  studied  the  game.  In  effect  I  know  not  of  him  even 
the  origin.  But  seen  that  the  hindop  princes  play  him,  I  suppose 
that  he  comes  from  the  Oriental  Indias.  I  am  sure  of  it  when  I 
perceive  among  the  players  at  Brighton  two  men  in  long  white 
robes.  They  have  absolutely  the  air  of  to  be  Hindoos,  a  little 
pale  at  cause  of  the  bad  english  climate,  excepted  that  each  one 
carries  on  the  head  a  melon  hat—  fhapeau  melon  —  -at  place  of  a 
turban.  Evidently  also  at  cause  of  the  bad  climate,  for  to  pro- 
tect themselves  from  the  rain.  See  there  then  the  famous  Pnnee 
and  one  of  his  compatriots.  I  believed  him  all  young,  but  I  am 
deceived  myself.  Naturally  I  desire  to  comprehend  that  which 
they  do.  Tient,  le  programme!  I  regard  him.  I  read  "Sussex 
County  Cricket  Ground.  Sussex  r.  Surrey."  That,  that  is  easy 
to  understand.  But  that  which  follows  —  thousand  thunders!  It 
is  a  veritable  cryptogram  in  cipher  language,  as  the  little  an- 
nounces in  the  trench  journals.  "  b.  1-b.  w.  n-b.  Total." 
Qu'est-ce  que  fa  veut  dire  ?  Kt  rncnrt,  "  Ibw  b  Jephson  "  and  "  «t 
Butt  b  Hartley."  It  is  incredible  that  it  may  be  some  names. 
But  yes  I  The  Hindoos,  for  sure!  BLBWNBTOTAL,  LBWBJEPHSON, 
STBUTTBHAKTI.ET.  It  are  the  others,  the  compatriots  of 
RANHJIJSHIHJTJHTIHJ.  Perfectly. 

Then  I  commence  to  study  the  game.  What  is  that  which  they 
do?  I  perceive  that  the  two  Hindoos  rest  planted  there,  while 
that  one  of  the  players  in  european  costume  throws  a  ball,  which 
another  hits  of  a  species  of  little  oar,  or  of  long  trowel  in  wood. 
Evidently  the  ball  should  to  hit  a  Hindoo.  That  comprehends 
himself.  But  the  player  with  the  little  oar  succeeds  never. 
Each  time  that  the  ball  goes  herself  away,  that  one  there  runs 
violently  towards  one  of  the  Hindoos,  brandishing  his  oar,  but 
another  player  encounters  him,  and  he  retires  himself.  In  same 
time  other  players  run  very  quick,  they  entrap  the  ball,  and  they 
throw  her  against  a  Hindoo.  But  he  holds  himself  there,  im- 
movable, tranquil,  calm,  —  the  imperturbable  Oriental.  Then  all 
the  players  change  of  position,  and  they  attack  the  other  Hindoo. 
But  they  hit  him  never.  Then  I  comprehend  that  they  do  this 
express,  espri'*.  They  wish  not  to  hit  him.  It  js  the  english 
generosity  towards  a  conquered  nation.  C'eit  admirable! 

Still  one  thing  which  I  have  remarked.  The  player  who  carries 
the  oar  puts  himself  before  three  little  sticks,  upright  on  the 
turf.  One  or  two  times  he  who  throws  the  ball  is  suchly  mala- 
droit that  he  makes  to  fall  two  of  the  sticks.  All  the  world 
cries,  and  the  oarsman  is  suchly  angry  that  he  plays  not  more, 
but  retires  himself.  It  is  droll  that  the  players  have  not  some- 
thing of  more  solid  for  to  mark  the  position  of  the  oarsman.  But 
these  sticks  are  evidently  of  oriental  origin,  for  it  is  one  of  the 
Hindoos  who  gathers  them.  Its  ramasse  —  ah  no,  picks  up  them. 
Probably  since  the  epoch  of  the  Aryans  the  Hindoos  have  picked 
up  some  similar  sticks.  Ah,  the  eternal  patience  of  the  imper- 
turbable Oriental  ! 

I  am  vary  content  of  to  have  seen  a  game  so  interesting,  of 
which  I  have  could  to  seize  the  most  remarkable  features.  I  go 
to  see  again  one  game  some  part,  quflqve  part,  and  then  I  shall 
write  a  study  on  "  The  Cricket  "  for  a  french  review. 

Agree,  Ac.,  AUGUHTB. 


Had  Him  There  (P) 

Young  America  (to  Young  England,  on  board  of  a  Trans- 
atlantic Liner).  You  see,  our  great  WASHINGTON  was  the  one 
man  on  earth  who  never  told  a  lie. 

Young  England.  Then  how  was  it  he  swore  allegiance  to  King 
GEORGE  and  served  against  the  French  ? 

Young  America  (calmly).  I  didn't  say  be  never  swore.  I  said 
he  never  lied ! 


VOL.    OXIII, 


HO  PUNCH,     OR     THE     LONDON     CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  11,  1897. 


FASHION    X    LA    SHAKSPEARE. 

"  I    HAVE   A   SUIT  WHUREIN   I    MKA.N  TO  TOUGH    YOUR   LOVB   INDEED.  ' — Othello,  Act  III.,  Scene  3. 


11,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


ill 


A  PBOZK8X. 

OIK, —  1  read  lint  a  Sixth  International 
Congress  lias  been  culled  together  lor  the 
purpose  ul  considering  "  The  Abuse  ol 
.Urumihr  Liquors."  Admirable  I  Why 
M.ouid  alcoholic  liquors,  or  ally  other 
liquois,  be  abused '(  1  tru*t  thin  Congress 
wul  im.iiiimuu.ily  piunoiim-e  it.i  opiuion  ot 
the  uuchivalric— it '»  a  difficult  word,  and 
ou  occasion,  after  dinner,  tor  example,  it 
i.iUr.-,  me  some  tune  to  pronounce,  though 
1  I-. in  wriU>  it  wilh  ease  and  elegance — 
Where  was  1 '( — Oh  I  yes — the  unchivalric 
conduct  ot  those  who  abuse  good  liquors 
that  never  yet  did  harm  to  any  man. 
Brandy  saves  hie ;  sustains  life.  Why 
abuse  it  P  Doesn't  whiskey  benefit  the 
gouty  man  ?  And  as  for  all  other  liqueurs 
or  liquors — but  this  reminds  me,  1  have 
not  yet  tried  "  all  other  liqueurs  and 
liquors."  So,  to  be  fair,  1  will  do  so. 
And  when  1  can  speak  from  knowledge  1 
will  write  again.  Till  then,  your  very 
good  health. 

MAKWUIS  DE  THOU-ETOILX«. 

C'/uiteuu   Vieux-Coffnae. 


DAEBY  JUNES  ON  THE  ST.  LiQEE. 

I  IIIMH  IIKU  SIK, — I  have  never  been  able 
to  comprehend  why  the  race  tor  the  St. 
I. '-..IT  -.n. mill  be  styled  a  Classic  Event. 
It  seems  to  me,  nowadays  at  least,  to  have 
tew  of  those  attributes  with  which  your 
Suptrior  .Menial  Genius  would  associate 
Uucephalus  und  Atalanta.  In  my  humble 
und  altogether  unpretending  opinion,  this 
once  noble  contest  (so  called  after  Colonel 
ST.  I.KI.KH,  who  was  not  of  kin  to  the 
Anglo-Irish  celebrities  with  the  same  name, 
of  whom  Viscount  DONERAILB  is  now 
chief)  is  only  "  bucked  up,"  in  vulgar  par- 
lance, by  the  elegant  articles  of  that 
famous  writer  and  estimable  gentleman, 
the  Hon.  FRANK  LAWLKT,  supported  by 
the  storming  of  the  Butterscotch  Metro- 
polis by  hordes  of  irresponsible  pitmen, 
who  swarm  from  the  Black  Diamond 
Golcoudas  of  Yorkshire,  Durham,  and 
Northumberland. 

Mr.  LAWLEY  is  an  Aristocratic  Scribe, 
second  to  none.  lie  has  the  Godolphiii 
Arabian,  Waxy,  Eclipse,  SAM  CHIFNBY, 
and  the  glories  of  Yorkshire  past  and  pro- 
s' m  at  the  tip  of  each  of  his  digits.  Quite 
rightly  he  appreciates  Doncaster,  as  I  do 
his  good  and  genial  work,  belikening  my- 
self to  a  cook's  mate  admiring  the  tact  ol 
an  Admiral  of  the  Fleet.  But  of  the 
diggers  and  delvers  into  the  bowels  of  our 
globe  I  cannot  conscientiously  speak  with 
such  enthusiasm.  Board  schools  have 
neither  changed  their  language^  nor  ele- 
vated their  tone.  I  am  not,  Sir.  aa  you 
may  well  believe,  knowing  me  as  well  as  you 
do,  a  Count  DB  UUAMUUNT,  Beau  Buuu- 
MEL,  or  Lord  CHESTERFIELD  in  my  deport- 
ment, nor  do  I  habitually  quaff  the  rarest 
produce  of  Champagne  and  Burgundy,  as 
is  the  custom  of  the  good  and  great,  but 
I  cannot  say  that  the  Pitman  is  a  Creature 
of  Joy  to  me.  His  voice  causes  temporary 
deafness  his  boots  are  so  wide  in  struc- 
ture ana  so  heavy  in  expression  that  they 
poswt'ss  the  might  of  a  steam  hammer 
combined  with  the  torture  of  the  rack, 
while  the  tongue  which  he  uses  is  possibly 
that  in  vogue  among  the  natives  of  Beh- 
ring's  Straits,  as  described  by  that  eminent 
traveller,  Mr.  HAKRY  DB  WINDT.  Frankly, 
Sir,  I  do  not  appreciate  the  Pitman  at 
Doncaster.  He  may  be  adorned  with  all 
the  virtues  of  the  Zodiac,  but  he  appeals 


She.  "AND  WERE  YOU  SUCCESSFUL  WITH  YOUR  FIKHT  CASE,  DOCTOR t" 
He.  "Y-Y«-«s.     THB—BR— WIDOW  PAID  THB  BILL  I" 


to  my  regard  in  no  sort  of  way.  He  stamps 
on  my  corns  without  apology,  he  make> 
my  ribs  sore  with  his  elbows,  and  like  a 
Teutonic  warrior,  he  treats  Doncaster  at 
a  sort  of  Alsace-Lorraine.  He  has  one 
redeeming  point :  he  provides  us  with 
Winter  Warmth. 

I  can,  as  I  pen  these  lines,  see  your 
noble  brow  contract  and  your  magnetic 
eyes  flash  with  fire  in  the  endeavour  to 
discover  whether  an  action  for  libel, 
Pitmen  v.  Punch,  would  lie  in  HKR  MA- 
JESTY'S Law  Courts.  All  I  can  say  is — Try 
the  game  yourself  and  verify  my  assertion, 
instead  of  intrusting  to  Me  a  special  mis- 
sion as  parlous  as  that  of  ANDRKR  to  the 
North  Pole.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  deny 
that  the  Tykes  and  Tykesses  do  not  also 
muster  in  their  thousands  of  each  and 
every  degree.  You  will  find  at  Doncaster 
many  samples  of  the  Nobility  and  Gentry, 
but  as  my  esteemed  friend,  Count  CRACK- 
EMOFF,  of  the  Siberian  Dragoons,  observed 


to  me  only  last  night,  "The  stranger  is 
done  at  Doncaster."  The  jest  is  only  too 
apparent  if  pronounced  in  phonetic  and 
foreign  fashion. 

Wafting  any  further  complaints  from  my 
brain,  I  proceed  to  business.  My  muse, 
unrefreshed  by  those  partridges  and 
prawns  at  which  you  recently  hinted  when 
packing  your  portmanteau  for  Southern 
climes,  sings  to  a  bygone  popular  strain  :  — 
Said  the  Old  Obadiah  to  the  Young  Obadiah. 

"  Wha'  will  win,  Obadiah,  wha'  will  win  ? " 
Said  'he  Young  Obadiah  to  the  Old  Obadiah, 

"  "TU  the  Irithman,  pound*  to  a  pin ! 
If  you  want  an  outsider,  tne  Yanke*  should  be 
Among  those  who  are  placed  by  the  Judge,  one, 

two,  three, 

And 'he  Primrowmay  do  what  we'd  all  like  to  tee." 
Said  the  Old  Obadiah,  "  You  are  right." 

Such,  honoured  Sir,  in  deathless  verse, 
is  the  dictum  of 

Your  old  and  stalwart  henchman  and 
defender  to  the  death,  DARBY  JO.XKS. 


112 


PUNCH,     OR     THE     LONDON     CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  11,  1897. 


SONGS    AND    THEIR    SINGERS.     No.   XIV. 


AN    ERROR    OF   JUDGMENT. 

A  DIALOGUE  STORY  IN  SBVBN  PARTS. 

PAET  V. 

SCBNB — The  Dining-room.     KEZIA  has  just  released  the  unhappy 
BowATER/row  her  embraces.    All  have  risen  from'Jable. 

Camilla  (to  herself).  A  literary  rival  in  my  own  parlour-maid! 
I  wonder  what  one  is  expected  to  do.  I  really  don't  know. 

Gerald  (to  himself).  BOWATER'S  let  himself  in  for  a  nice  thing! 
His  expression  when  he  was  being  hugged!  (He  all  but  explodes, 
again  at  the  recollection.)  I  believe  NOKA  must  have  known  it  all 
the  time  !  Hang  it,  it 's  too  bad  of  her ! 

Nora  (to  herself ).  How  very,  very  unfortunate  I  But  I  couldn't 
possibly  know.  It  was  all  GERALD'S  fault ! 

Bowater  (to  himself,  savagely).  What  the  deuce  am  I  to  say  to 
this  detestable  girl  ?  It 's  a  deliberate  plot — that 's  what  it  is,  and 
ALABASTER  or — or  somebody  shall  answer  to  me  for  it ! 

Kezia  (to  the  company  generally).  I'm  very  sorry  if  I've  taken 
a  liberty,  but  my  feelings  got  the  better  of  me  for  the  moment. 
To  hear  my  own  book  so  highly  complimented — it  was  really  too 
much  for  me  I 

Camilla  (with  a  somewhat  laboured  graciousness) .  lam  sure  Mr. 
BOWATER  will  excuse  your  excitement,  KEZIA.  Genius  is  such  a 
rare  and  precious  gift,  and  his  recognition  of  yours  was  so 
thorough,  and  so  obviously  without  the  slightest  suspicion  of 
being  intended  for  your  ears — (BOWATER  suppresses  a  groan) — 
that  it  was  only  natural  you  should  be  overcome. 

Kezia.  I  always  felt  I  had  it  in  me  to  be  a  genius,  as  I  've  told 
Cook  many  a  time,  though,  being  herself  illiterate,  she  treated  me 
with  low  derision.  And  I  had  to  write  Stolen  Sweets  in  fits  and 


snatches  in  the  pantry  or  my  own  room,  on  the  washstaad,  where 
her  blighting  influence  couldn't  reach.  As  to  the  title,  Miss 
LYDE,  you  may  think  I  borrowed  it  from  that  story  of  your 
friend's — but  it  would  be  erroneous.  I  thought  of  it  quite 
independently,  and  why  should  I  change  it  just  because  there 
happened  to  be  another ? 

Bowater.  A  story  by  a  friend  of  Miss  LYDE'S?  What  story 
was  that  ? 

Kezia.  Well,  Sir,  this  is  how  it  was.  Miss  LYDE  came  to  me 
one  day — 

Camilla  (hastily).  All  that  is  of  no  interest  to  Mr.  BOWATER, 
KEZIA.  It  is  your  Stolen  Sweets  that  he  has  expressed  such  warm 
admiration  for. 

Bowater  (feebly).  Yes;  but  perhaps —  •  It  just  occurs  to 
me.  There  may  be  some — some  unfortunate  confusion  between 
the  two. 

Camilla.  Hardly,  as  it  is  clearly  KEZIA'S  that  contains  the 
scenes  between  the  Viscount  and  the  Countess  of  Chislehurst, 
which  you  quoted  as  particularly  striking.  But  I  should  like  to 
ask  her  privately  about  the  other  manuscript,  if  you  will  excuse 
me,  Mr.  BOWATER.  Will  you  come  into  my  study,  KEZIA,  and 
tell  me  exactly  what  was  done  with  it  ? 

[She  leads  the  way ;  KEZIA  follows  unwillingly. 

Bowater  (with  suppressed  rage).  Well,  ALABASTER,  you  have 
made  me  the  victim  of  a  very  successful  practical  joke.  I  sha'n't 
forget  it. 

Oerald.  If  there  's  any  practical  joke,  it  isn't  mine.  I  told  you 
from  the  first  that  Stolen  Sweets  was  rot — but  of  course  you  didn't 
think  my  opinion  worth  anything  I  You  insisted  on  my  following 
your  lead  and  cracking  it  up  at  lunch,  and  I  did.  And  this  is 
all  the  thanks  I  get  for  it  1 

Bowater.  You  distinctly  told  me  that  Stolen  Sweets  was  written 
by  Miss  LYDE. 

Gerald.  I — I  was  given  to  understand  so. 

Bowater.  Your  own  common  sense  should  have  told  you  Miss 
LYDE  couldn't  have  written  such  stuff. 

Gerald.  I  'd  never  read  anything  of  hers.  How  was  I  to  tell  it 
wasn't  her  usual  style  ?  I  was  taken  in  myself. 

Bowater.  Then  am  I  to  understand  that  Miss  VYVIAN  has  been 
amusing  herself  at  our  expense  ? 

Nora.  As  if  I  should  play  such  a  trick  as  that  I  My  Aunt  told 
me  in  confidence  that  she  had  sent  you  a  story  anonymously,  but 
when  I  heard  from  GERALD  that  he  had  advised  you  to  decline  a 
novel  of  the  very  same  title,  and  with  the  same  initials  and 
address  and  everything,  why,  I  couldn't  help  saying  something — 
and  then  he  got  it  all  out  of  me.  If  he  hadn't  talked,  it  wouldn't 
hare  happened  I 

Bowater.  Yes,  Sir,  you  had  no  business  to  mention  particulars 
which  you  had  learnt  in  a  confidential  capacity  when  reading 
for  me.  It  was  a  gross  breach  of  trust. 

Gerald  (angrily).  There  was  nothing  secret  about  them!  At 
least,  you  never  told  me  so.  But  that's  enough  for  me.  I'm 
not  going  to  stay  here  to  be  told  I  've  been  betraying  your  trust 
— after  doing  everything  I  could  to  pull  you  through  a  mess  that 
was  mostly  your  own  making ! 

[He  stalks  out  of  the  room ,  and  leaves  the  house. 

Nora.  Dear  Mr.  BOWATER,  don't  look  like  that.  I  '11  do  any- 
thing I  can. 

Bowater.  Don't  you  think,  Miss  VYVIAN,  that  you  've  done 
rather  too  much  as  it  is  ? 

Nora.  But  I  'd  better  go  over  to  Fitcham  and  get  KEZIA'S 
novel  for  you,  hadn't  I  ?  It  would  be  quite  as  awkward  if  she 
found  out  you  had  declined  it — now.  And  after  all,  it  will  be 
all  right  so  long  as  you  publish  it. 

Bowater.  "All  right!"  I  must  publish  it,  I  know  that — I 
can't  get  out  of  it.  But  have  you  any  idea  what  it  will  mean  to 
me  ?  I  shall  stultify  all  my  past  career,  undo  at  a  blow  the  repu- 
tation I  have  built  up  as  a  publisher  of  some  taste  and  discrimina- 

m.     Worse  still,  when  your  Aunt  comes  to  know  what  wretched 
twaddle  I  have  been  praising  to  her  as  a  work  of  true  genius — 
Great  Heavens,  genius!     What  will  she  think  of  me?  how  can 
she  ever  respect  me  again  ?     And  I  was  in  hopes  that—some- 
day  •     There,  that 's  over,  but  unless  you  want  to  drive  me 

quite  mad,  don't  tell  me  again  that  it  will  be  "  all  right  "I 

[He  buries  his  head  in  his  hands. 

Nora  (to  herself,  as  she  leave.s  the  room).  Poor  dear  Mr.  BO- 
WATER, I  can't  bear  to  see  him  so  miserable.  I  wonder,  if  I 

told  CAMILLA 1 

IN  THE  STUDY. 

Camilla  (to  KEZIA).  But  tell  me  what  put  it  into  your  head  to 
send  your  book  to  Mr.  BOWATER  P 

Kezia.  Why,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  Miss  LYDB,  it  was  your 
dictating  that  letter.  Before  that,  I  didn't  know  who  to  send 
my  story  to,  or  the  proper  way  to  write  to  a  publisher,  or  any- 


SEPTEMBEK  11,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


113 


tiling.  And  the  letter  mentioning  ,s'Mr/i  Xuwtt,  which  happened 
to  b«  rny  very  own  title,  it  struck  me  —  why  shouldn't  I  8end  my 
>/'</••«  Sn-t'rt.i.  Ami  aliiio.il  lx>fore  I  M  time  tn  think,  I  'd  done  it. 

t'niiiillii.    I  SIT.      Hut  what  about  tin-  nlhrr  N/o/rn  Street*? 

l\i  in.  Well,  I  thought  it  would  create  confusion,  having  two 
titles  alike,  so—  I  knew  your  friend  wouldn't  mind  —  I  —  I  took  the 
liberty  of  going  over  her  manuscript,  and  scratching  out  the 
title  wherever  it  was  put. 

Camilla.   So  you  sent  it  without  any  title  at  all? 

Kezia.  I  fully  ml:  mini  to,  Miss  I.VUK.  and  did  it  uu  and  ad- 
dressed it  and  everything,  and  then,  somehow,  1  couldn't  make 
up  my  mind  to  send  it,  and  put  it  away  in  a  drawer  in  the  kitchen 
dresser.  And  when  I  looked  for  it  the  other  day,  it  wasn't 
there,  and  the  Cook,  whose  Philistinish  ways  are  a  severe  trial  to 
live  with,  told  me  as  calm  as  you  please  that  she  'd  taken  it  for 
some  of  my  scribbling,  and  put  it  on  the  fire.  I  H  m  annoyed 
with  her. 

Camilla.  And  why  didn't  you  come  and  tell  me  at  once  P 

Kezia.  Well,  you  see,  Cook  begged  me  not  to  —  and  I  'm  not  (lie 
person  to  tell  tales  of  a  fellow-servant,  however  inferior. 

Camilla.  Particularly  when  your  own  conduct  —  KEUA, 
I  'm  afraid  you  have  behaved  rather  deceitfully.  I  begin  to  see 
why  you  were  so  obliging  about  going  over  to  Fitcham,  and  why 
you  did  your  best  to  prevent  my  going  there  this  morning. 

Kezia.  Indeed,  Miss  LYUE,  I  never  touched  your  bicycle.  The 
valves  will  get  unscrewed  at  times.  And  you  'II  excuse  me,  but 
your  tone  is  not  quite  the  thing  from  one  literary  lady  to  another 
You  seem  to  forget  that  I  am  no  longer  a  mere  drudge,  but  your 
equal  —  I  might  say,  your  superior,  for,  with  the  highest  respect 
for  your  talents,  Miss,  which  are  very  well  in  their  way,  nobody 
has  ever  referred  to  you  that  I  know  of  as  a  'Eavenborn 
Genius.  And,  after  what  those  gentlemen  said,  you  'II  hardly 
deny  that  I  'm  cne  ! 

Camilla  (good-littmiiuredly).  No,  indeed,  KEZIA,  and  believe 
me,  I  congratulate  you  most  cordially  on  your  success.  1  could 
certainly  have  wished  —  But  there,  I  mustn't  scold  such  a 
distinguished  author,  and  after  all,  you  have  done  no  harm, 
though  you  might  have.  Now  you  can  go.  Of  course  1  cannot 
expect  you  to  continue  your  duties,  but  if  you  would  kindly 
mention  to  BESSIE  that  we  will  have  our  coffee  in  the  garden  - 

Kezia.  Oh.  Miss  I.VUK,  I  shall  be  very  willing  to  bring  out 
coffee  —  as  a  friend,  and  perhaps  you  will  allow  me  a  few  minutes' 
interview  later  on  with  my  publisher.  I  'm  told  that  geniuses 
can  command  their  own  prices  nowadays,  and  he  '11  find  out  I  'm 
quite  able  to  take  care  ot  myself. 

[She  goes  ;  a  little  later  NORA  bursts  in. 

Nora.  CAMILLA,  you  'II  hate  me,  I  know,  but  I  must  tell  you. 
Poor  Mr.  BOWATER  is  nearly  out  of  his  mind,  and  I  feel  I  ought 
to  do  something.  (She  makes  a  full  confession.)  Now  do  you 
understand  P 

<\LinilI<t  (liittfiiij}.  1  understand  that  I  have  been  living  in  an 
atmosphere  of  bad  faith  and  trickery  and  deception  I  (Hising.) 
The  best  thing  you  can  do  now  is  to  go  to  Fitcham  and  see  if 
you  can  recover  that  manuscript  without  making  any  more 
mischief. 

Nora.  CAMILLA,  don't  be  beastly  about  it  !  Where  are  you 
going  ? 

Camilla  (at  the  door,  grimly).  I  am  going  to  have  a  little  talk 
with  Mr.  BOWATER.  [She  goes  out. 

Nora  (to  herself)  .  Poor  Mr.  BOWATER  1  I  'm  afraid  I  haven't 
made  things  much  better  for  him.  I  '11  go  and  get  my  bicycle, 
but  it  will  be  a  long  time  before  I  ever  do  anybody  a  good  turn 
again,  that  "s  all  I  _ 


FOR  NEITHER  DEFENCE  NOR  DEFIANCE. 

(Prophetic  Report  of  the  Last  Volunteer  Muster.) 

THE  thousands  of  citizen  soldiers  stood  at  attention  when  the 
General  in  command  of  them  (who  had  just  completed  his  work 
at  the  Autumn  Manoauvres)  made  his  appearance,  ryady  to 
harangue  them.  By  the  progress  of  science  each  volunteer  could 
hear  every  word  that  was  addressed  to  them.  No  speaking- 
trumpet  was  required,  as  a  recent  improvement  in  the  telephone 
had  practically  annihilated  space. 

"  My  friends,"  began  the  warrior,  "  I  wish  I  could  call  you  my 
comrades.  That  I  cannot  is  no  fault  of  mine,  but  must  be  at- 
tributed to  the  decision  of  the  Commission  on  National  Defence. 
So,  with  all  possible  respect,  I  salute  you  once  again  as  my  friends 
—  for  are  you  not  my  countrymen  P  " 

There  was  a  murmur  not  altogether  of  approval,  but  the  armed 
mass  soon  relapsed  into  expectant  silence. 

"  I  am  aware  that  you  have  spent  the  better  part  of  your  lives 
in  attaining  your  present  commendable  efficiency.  And  in  doing 
this  you  have  but  followed  the  example  of  your  father*,  who  also 


DANGER    IN    THE    BALL-ROOM. 

"WHAT  A  BEASTLY  COLD  YOU 'v«  oor    SAM!    WHERE  DID  YOU 

0«T  IT  I" 

••IT'S  HOT  A  COLD,  IT'S  HAY  FCVKR.    I  GOT  IT  DANCINO  WITH 
THAT  GRASS  WIDOW  THE  OTHER  MUHT  ! " 


imitated  the  action  of  their  progenitors.     It  does  you  infinite 
credit  that  you  should  put  in  so  good  uu  appearance." 

At  tins  there  was  a  teeble  cheer.  l<or  a  moment  the  Force 
looked  lively,  but  resumed  their  air  of  despondency  aa  their  chiet 
continued. 

"  To  reach  this  level  you  have  had  to  work  hard.  Nay,  more, 
you  have  had  to  subscribe  liberally  from  your  pecuniary  re- 
sources. For  soldiering,  either  regular  or  amateur,  costs  con- 
siderably more  than  nothing.  1  think  1  may  say  that  the  price  of 
the  Volunteer  Movement,  trom  its  inception  to  the  present  day, 
must  be  given  in  tens  of  millions." 

At  this  declaration  (which  was  uttered  in  a  tone  of  proud  satis- 
faction) there  was  distinct  cheering.  The  armed  host  felt  that 
they  had  received  a  compliment. 

"And  having  said  this,  1  have  little  more  to  utter.  You  are 
aware  that  we  are  on  the  point  of  being  invaded.  You  also  know 
(on  excellent  authority),  that  if  611,000,  or,  at  most,  150,000  men 
of  the  enemy  reach  our  shores  in  safety  the  downfall  of  the 
empire  ia  a  certainty.  If  you  could  be  landed  upon  the  hostile 
shore  you  might  be  of  some  slight  value.  But  this  is  impossible. 
So  aa  you  are  not  wanted  you  may  stand  at  ease — in  fact  stand 
easy." 

_  Relieved  by  this  command  from  the  statuesque  front  the 
Volunteers  had  hitherto  assumed,  the  body  became  more  sociable. 
They  conversed  amongst  themselves,  and  came  to  a  decision. 
They  appointed  one  of  their  number  to  address  the  inspecting 
officer. 

"Sir,"  began  the  delegate,  "you  tell  us  we  are  proficient. 
You  say  that  we  have  cost  millions  P  " 

"  You  have,"  waa  the  prompt  reply.  "  Had  the  money  spent 
upon  your  development  oeen  expended  in  the  reduction  of  the 
empire's  financial  burden  there  would  have  been  a  considerable 
reduction  in  the  National  Debt." 

"  And  yet,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  you  hinted  that  we  were 
quite  useless." 

"  Certainly — absolutely  valueless." 

"  Then  what  shall  we  do  ?  "  And  as  this  question  was  put  the 
gallant  warriors  again  became  silent. 

"  Wall,  my  friends,"  returned  the  General,  after  a  few  moments 
of  consideration,  "  I  really  think  you  had  better  disband  as  a 
preliminary  to  bidding  one  another  good-bye,  and  going  home  to 
tea." 

There  was  a  sigh,  a  cheer,  and  a  rush.  In  a  moment  the  citizen 
soldiers  scattered  North,  South,  East,  and  West.  And  thus 
ended  the  story  of  the  Volunteer  Movement.  It  ended — and 
for  ever. 


114 


PUNCH,     OR     THE     LONDON     CHARIVARI.  [SEPIEMBEB  1 1.  1»97. 


Village  Dame  (to  eminttnt  Landscape-painter).   "LAW,  SIR    I  DO  OFTEN  WO»I>BR  HOW  \ou  CAN  'AVB  THK  PAVIKNCE  TO  BIBB  EM.KS  DAT 

ARTER  DAT,    DRARIN*  AN'   DKAKIN*  !      BUT,    THERE,    OftE   THING,    TOU   'AVE3   PLBNTY   o'    COMPANY!" 


THE  CELESTIAL  BAGMAN. 

[In  Truth  Mr.  LABOUCHEBJS,  M.P.,  says,  "A 
corps  of  clever  commercial  travellers  in  one  pro- 
vince of  China  %  ould  be  of  more  advantage  to  us 
in  the  struggle  for  the  world's  market*,  than  a 
dozt-n  new  ironclads  or  millions  on  millions  of 
naked,  lazy  Lug  roes  brought  under  our  sway  in 
Africa."] 

THE  British  Bagman's  trip  of  yore 

Was  in  his  native  land ; 
He  ne'er  was  bade  his  stock  to  store 

With  goods  for  foreign  strand. 
But  now  he  permeates  the  earth, 

And  with  each  British  sample, 
Confronts  the  foe  with  British  worth, 

And  challenges  example ! 
Far-seeing  LABBY,  who  'd  defy 

E'en  Zeus  himself  with  lightning, 
A  wider  prospect  can  descry, 

The  Bagman's  prospects  bright'ning. 
He  seeks — no  doubt  he  '11  pay  the  coat — 

A  corps  of  "Corns."  all     clever," 
To  travel  where  they  grovel  most 

In  poverty  for  ever. 
There  was  a  certain  journalist, 

Who  read  of  Chinee  millions, 
And  he,  in  Labbyistic  mist, 

Resolved  to  pile  up  billions. 
So  his  paper  printed  then 

Tn  choice  Celestial  tongua, 
With  articles  to  please  CHEY-EN, 

Or  tickle  Li-Foo-CnuNo. 
But  when  it  came  to  sell  to  the  same, 

HP  never  found  a  buyer ; 
The  Chinee  likes  the  selling  game — 

At  purchasing  he  'i  shyer. 
And  so  this  editnr  who  thought 

He  'd  be  a  millionairion, 


His  lesson  very  dearly  bought, 

An  out  and  out  barbarian. 
Then,  gentle   I.AHHY,  let  us  leave 

Your  Chinee  scheme  to  you,  Sir. 
You  would  not  wilfully  deceive, 

For  you  are  always  true,  Sir  ! 
But  if  the  Bagman  wants  to  deal 

In  something  somewhat  bigger, 
For  ironclads  let  him  sell  steel, 

And  trousers  for  the  Nigger  1 


HOMINU. —  His  Grace  of  BEAUFORT  re 
cently  wrote  an  interesting  letter  to  tht 
Times  concerning  the  "  Homing  Instincts ' 
in  animals.  In  the  Paterfamilias  genus 
this  instinct  in  early  September  becomes 
very  strong,  especially  on  referring  to  his 
bank-book.  Then  the  Return-Hominp 
Instinct  asserts  itself.  And  the  journey 
back  again  is,  Paterfamilias  thinks,  the 
best  return  he  can  have  for  his  money. 


Amid  the  Sussex  Turnips. 

Tenant  of  Shooting  (affably,  to  surly 
keeper).  How  do  the  coveys  run  this  year? 

Surly  Keeper.  Run !  D  'ye  think  ye  're 
going  to  deal  wi'  a  bloomin'  lot  of  French 
red-legs  ? 

PROPOSITION. —  Last  week,  Mr.  JOHN 
MORLET  went  to  Butterstone.  The  name 
of  the  place  is  not  indicative  of  its  being 
in  an  atmosphere  sympathetic  with  this 
eminent  politician.  Perhaps  it  may  be 
renamed  "  Butter-Gladstone "  in  memory 
of  the  Philosophic  JOHNNIE'S  visit. 


THE  SLOW 

ON  Southern  lines  the  trains  which  crawi 

Deliberately  to  and  fro 
Make  life  a  burden  ;  of  them  all 

This  is  the  slowest  of  the  slow. 
Impatiently  condemned  to  bear 

What  is  indeed  an  awful  bore, 
I  Ve  seemed  to  be  imprisoned  there 

Three  days,  or  more. 
The  angry  passengers  complain  ; 

Of  new  electric  cabs  they  talk. 
They  sit  and  swear  at  such  a  train, 

And  ask,  "Shall  we  get  out  and  walk?" 
It  '3  true  the  time  seems  extra  long 

When  spent  in  such  a  wretched  way, 
My  calculation  may  be  wrong — 
Three  hours,  say. 

The  other  day  I  had  to  come 

By  this  slow  train,  but  facing  me 

Was  no  old  buffer,  dull  and  dumb  ; 
I  chatted  with  my  vis-a-vis. 

A  pretty  smile,  a  pretty  dress, 

Gay  spirits  no  fatigue  could  crush  ; 

With  her  it  was  a  quick  express, 

Three  minutes'  rush. 

For  once  I  sadly  left  th«  train, 

For  once  the  time  too  quickly  passed. 

I  still  could  angrily  complain, 
Why  travel  so  absurdly  fast  ? 

At  liahtning  speed  that  special  went 
(I'd  paid  the  ordinary  fare), 

Now  looking  back  it  seems  we  spent 
Three   seconds  there. 


KLONDIKE  SURPASSED.  —  Our  English 
goldfields.  Our  fields  at  harvest  time 
"ripe  with  golden  grain." 


PUNCH,    OH   THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.— SMTMIMEB  11.   1^97. 


POOR  RELATIONS. 


AUSAOT  AMD  LOKKAINE  (toj/etAer).  "  BON  JOUR.  It'SIEU  LE  PEESIJDliNT.  YOU  HAVE  SURELY  BROUGHT 
BACK  SOMETHING  l-'Ofi  US  FEOM  RUSSIA?" 

M.  F^uius.  "  WELL— H'M— I 'M  AFRAID— ER—  (AM*.)  VERY  AWKWARD  THESE  TROUBLESOME 
PEOPLE  TURNING  UP— AND  AT  SUCH  A  MOMENT,  TOO!!" 


SKITKMBER  11,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


117 


A   SHOCKING    SHOCK. 

Fityones  (who  hoi  lately  started  a  turn-out,'Jo  Friend).  "  THBRB,  MY  BOT,  THAT  '•  TH*  BOOT  I     PICKED  HIE  UP  JL  BARGAIN  AT  TATT'B  I " 

friend.  "An,  xioi  LITTLE  MARK!    PITT  SHE  UAH  THAT  NASTY  TRICK  OF  HOLTINO." 

Fitejones,  "  EOT,  MAM  I    WHAT  THB  DKUC«  DO  YOU  KNOW  ABOUT  HKB  I"        Friend.  "  WILL,  YOU  au,  I  H«NT  BIB  UP  LAST  WXBK  1 " 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  worn  Lyrist  meet}  Three  Fair  Cousin*  at  a  pic-nic,  and  marvels  that, 
they  be  to  free  from  care,  and  is  refreshed  thereby. 

MY  dear  little  cousins,  in  number  just  three, 

Like  the  goddesses  known  to  the  past, 
I  'in  not  Paris  to  give  with  a  hand  all  too  free, 

An  apple  for  discord  to  last. 
Diana,  or  Venus;  or  Juno  you  play 

One  and  all  with  delectable  grace, 
You  are  sweet  with  the  sempiterne  promise  of  May, 

That  no  Winter  can  ever  deface. 

My  dear  little  cousins,  I  'd  fain  let  you  know 

(Here  my  cousinship  breaks  into  praise) 
That  I  love  your  dislike  of  the  Up-to-date  Show 

That  is  seen  in  these  Down-to-uate  days ! 
You  've  discovered  the  secret  of  living  one's  life, 

You  can  laugh  with  the  best  in  your  mirth. 
And  the  tears  that  you  shed  are  not  gendered  by  strife, 

For  you  envy  no  being  on  earth ! 

My  dear  little  cousins,  'twas  simply  delight 

That  made  our  encounter  so  gay, 
For  when  Venus  was  ready  with  repartee  bright 

Where  was  I  in  my  feeble  essay  r 
To  parry  her  thrust  I  had  never  a  foil 

(All  her  quips  were  like  lines  from  a  play), 
Then  Diana  would,  huntress-like,  mark  me  for  spoil, 

And  thi-u  Juno  would  bring  me  to  bay. 

My  dear  little  cousins,  'mid  bracken  and  grass, 

How  I  longed  to  be  young  once  again, 
Not  with  mind  of  a  cynic  and  hide  or  an  ass, 

That  is  callous  of  Fortune  and  pain  1 
But  with  just  the  same  heaven-sent  spirit  of  joy 

That  is  fearless,  frank,  yet  debonair. 
This  you  showed  1  and  indeed  I  was  once  more  a  boy, 

Not  a  pilgrim  'mid  deserts  of  care ! 


My  dear  little  cousins,  to  you  much  I  owe ; 

You  unwittingly  roused  a  worn  sense 
Of  the  thrill  of  the  music  of  long,  long  ago, 

When  I  knew  in  my  soul  but  one  tense — 
The  Present.     I  construed  it  longtime  and  oft, 

Now  the  Past  in  the  grammar  of  life. 
My  dear  little  cousins,  you  made  my  heart  soft, 

And  I  felt  that  I — -    Goodbye  1     My  wife  I 


At  Bonnie  Blinkie  Castle. 

Mr.  Lytander  B.  Chunk*,  of  Chicago  (who  hoi  rented  the  property 
of  the  Duke  of  B.  B.}.  I  see  this  mansion  described  in  the  guide- 
books as  "palatial."  Why,  it  isn't  in  it  with  the  Mastodon 
Hotel,  Milwaukee ! 

English  '/nest.  Then  why  didn't  yon  hire  the  hotel  P 


In  a  Somersetshire   Inn. 

Mr.  Fitz- Archibald  Smith  (of  London,  to  the  Landlord).  It 
there  a  hair-dresser  in  the  village  P  I  want  to  be  shampooed 
and  shaved. 

Landlord.  Well,  Zur,  I  doant  know  much  about  the  sluun- 
poodling,  but  our  ostler's  used  to  clipping  horses.  Would  'e 
like  to  try  him  P 

At  the  White   Hart,   Windsor. 

Little  Snopkini  (who  hat  hired  a  boat  for  the  day,  to  Coffee-room 
OjfiM).  Waiter,  W  'a  the  tide  P 

Ciiffee-room  Official  (with  cutting  irony).  This  isn't  'Ammer- 
smith,  Sir !  [And  even  then  SNOPKINS  didn't  understand  the  rtbvke. 


FROM  THE  iRRBPHBsaiBLB  ONB  (difficult,  apparently,  to  snare). 
— Q.  Why  are  haters  of  cats  to  be  avoided  P  A.  Because  they 
are  most  uu-feline. 


118 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[SEPTEMBER  11,  1897. 


AWFUL    FATE    OF    THE    CYCLIST    SCORCHER! 

(About  A.D.  1950.) 

DRIVEN  AT  LAST  BY  A  LONO-SUIFERINO   PUBLIC  FROM   ALL  THE   HAUNTS  OF  MEN,  HIS 
LIMBS  ADAPTED  TO  ONE  MEANS  OF  LOCOMOTION  ONLY,  HE  IS  COMPELLED  TO  HOP  ABOUT  AS 

BEST  HE  CAN   IN   INACCESSIBLE   MOUNTAIN   RE  TREATS  ! 


"FALSE  MODESTY." 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, —  Having  read  with 
interest  the  discussion  under  the  above 
heading  in  the  columns  of  a  daily  con- 
temporary, I  feel  bound  to  submit  to  you 
what  seems  to  be  a  common-sense 
view  of  the  subject.  Briefly,  it  is  that  no 
one  should  be  allowed  to  indulge  in  sea- 
bathing, either  at  Broadstairs  or  else- 
where, except  in  full  morning-dress,  with 
chimney-pot  and  umbrella  in  the  case  of 
men,  and  matinee  hat  and  sunshade  for 
ladies.  The  reason  for  this  is  obvious.  If 
people  want  to  wash,  they  can  best  do  so 
in  the  privacy  of  their  own  dressing-rooms. 
But  the  occasions  when  it  is  necessary  for 
them  to  swim  are  when  they  fall  over- 
board, or  when  the  ice  gives  way,  or  at 
other  times  when  they  have  all  their 


clothes  on.  Consequently,  that  eye-sore 
of  British  watering-places,  the  bathing- 
machine,  should  be  promptly  abolished, 
nid  no  more  paddling  and  bobbing  allowed. 
Persons  desirous  of  practising  natation, 
having,  of  course,  previously  learnt  on  dry 
land,  ought  either  to  be  pushed  off  a  pier- 
head without  warning,  or  sent  out  to  sea 
in  a  boat  with  the  cork  removed  from  the 
keel.  They  will  then  be  far  too  busy 
saving  their  own  and  other  people's  lives 
(or  escaping  their  clutches)  to  bother 
about  False  Modesty.  Trusting  that  this 
suggestion  will  have  due  effect, 

I  remain.  Sir,      Yours  rationally, 

Z.  Y.  X. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  was  at  large  the 
other  day,  and  thought  I  would  look  in  at 
the  Royal  Aquarium  to  see  if  I  could  picl 
up  any  ideas  on  the  burning  question  oi 


jatiiiug-cost uuie  aiid  i'aise  .Modesty,  buie 
eiiougu,  1  arrived  iu  the  nick  or  tuue  to 
see  a  "  i'rolessor  "  make  a  sensational  dive 
rum  the  root,  enveloped  m  a  iluuaug  sack. 
Here,  then,  is  tne  ideal  bathing-dress.  Let 
eveiyone  set  tlie  Thames  or  the  Channel 
oil  lire  (.belore  the  next  change  m  tne 
uuon)  by  dunning  an  asbestos  suit  suaked 
in  petroleum,  and  simultaneously  lighting 
each  other  up.  We  should  solve  the  ques- 
liua  of  liaise  Modesty  at  once.  All  the 
jelly-hsh.es  within  the  lour  seas  would  turn 
pale  with  envy,  if  the  experiment  were 
conducted  at  night ;  and  think,  too,  what 
a  splendid  signal  to  Mars  it  would  make  1 
1  positively  tingle  and  glow  with  delight  at 
tue  prospect.  k'ours  warmly, 

BABMIE  FIIZDOTTEKKL. 

DEAR  SIK, — It  is  quite  time  the  question 
of  bathing-costume  was  settled  for  good 
and  ail.  i  do  not  know  what  some  ol  our 
seaside  resorts  are  coming  to.  The  dress, 
or,  rather,  almost  undress,  of  the  mascu- 
line bathers  is  really  shocking.  This  is  no 
place  for  maiden  ladies  where  1  am  staying. 
1  will  not  reveal  its  name,  for  fear  we 
siiuuld  be  invaded  by  further  crowds  ot 
unappropriated  spinsters.  I  live  half  a  mile 
ironi  the  shore,  but  1  have  an  excellent 
pair  of  field-glasses,  specially  bought  for 

he  holiday    season,   and    I    declare  that, 
when  I  look  through  them  every  morning 

t   the   scenes    of    mixed   bathing   in   this 
J  ubilee  year,  1  blush  by  the  hour  together. 
If  it  is  not  put  a  stop  to,  I  shall  have  to 
stay  here  till  the  last  trippers  have  gone. 
Yours  modestly,     PRUE  DE  COREHAM. 

SIR, — What  is  all  this  ridiculous  discus- 
sion about,  I  ask?  Is  it  because  the  sea- 
serpent  has  declined  to  turn  up,  and  the 
big  gooseberry  crop  has  failed?  When  at 
the  seaside  we  are  all  artists,  of  course — 
at  least,  I  pose  as  one.  I  cau't  draw  a 
line,  but  I  can  get  along  with  a  kodak,  and 
manage  to  take  a  good  many  snap-shots 
in  the  course  of  a  morning.  What  is  the 
especial  attraction  at  this  time  of  year, 
you  inquire.  Why,  the  female  form  divine, 
to  be  sure ;  and  the  more  of  it  the  better. 
Only  let  nobody  be  allowed  to  bathe  in 
public  whose  figure  has  not  been  passed  by 
a  committee  of  experts.  I  am  happy  to 
offer  my  services  as  judge.  We  flock  to 
see  "  Living  Pictures "  at  Music  .Halls. 
Then  let  us  have  them  at  the  seaside,  only 
they  should  not  be  caricatures.  That  would 
be  an  offence  to  the  susceptibilities  and 
the  innate  modesty  of  BBOAD  STARES. 


Busso-FRiNK  ALLIANCE. — "Our  Own," 
writing  from  Paris  to  the  Times  last  week, 
said  that  "  TL  female  proof-readers  of  the 
Journal  de  St.  Petersbimrg  have  exchanged 
greetings  with  the  male  proof-readers  of 
the  Temps."  Charming  rapprochement! 
Almost  touching !  The  next  step  is  clearly 
to  exchange  photographs ;  but,  in  this 
case,  each  male  proof-reader  will  stand 
only  a  poor  chance,  as  his  portrait  must 
necessarily  be  d'un  homme  use  par  le 
Temps. 

EMOTIONAL. —  Members  of  the  British 
Association  are  enjoying  themselves  at 
Winnipeg,  where  they  are  Winnipegging 
away  at  agricultural  subjects.  At  any  one 
of  their  final  banquets,  when  the  men  of 
science  were  entertained  with  sumptuous 
hospitality,  the  struggle  to  pronounce 
clearly  and  distinctly  the  final  toast  of  the 
evening,  "Success  to  the  British  Asso- 
ciation," must  have  been  a  noble  effort, 
most  touching  to  witness. 


SKPTKMBKR  11,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


119 


CCELUM,    NON    ANIIYIUM,    MUTANT,    &c. 

The  Rev.  Cyril.  "I  WONDER  WHERE  THIS  MOUNTAIN  FASTNESS  is  THAT  BA*DSKSR  TALKS  so  MUCH  ABOUT?' 
Charles  (kin friend).  "THERE  IT  is,  MY  BOY,  LOOKINO  AT  UH  OVER  ITS  SHOULDER  !" 


"DOWN  SOUTH." 

WEATHER  uncertain.    We  refuse  to  consult  forecast. 

"  It  is  no  use  looking  at  a  glass,"  growls  Number  Three  of  our 
Trio,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  "  it 's  sure  to  pelt." 

Number  Three's  views,  previous  to  starting,  have  been  de- 
ridedly  optimistic  ;  but  from  the  moment  we  are  irrevocably  com- 
mitted to  the  journey,  he  becomes  a  hopeless  pessimist.  Before 
departure  we  had  regarded  ourselves  as  Three  Sandboys  of  the 
jolliest  description  ;  now,  however,  once  launched  at  Southamp- 
ton, with  our  tickets,  there  r.nd  back  by  rail  and  boat,  in  our 
pockets,  the  sand  in  the  composition  of  this  particular  Sandboy, 
who  may  be  labelled  as  Number  Three,  has  become  a  sort  of 
Quick-Sand,  in  which  the  sanguine  cheeriness  of  the  other  two 
S:imlboys  stands  a  fair  chance  of  being  absorbed  and  lost  for  ever. 
But  the  aforesaid  Other  Two  Sandboys  are  warv,  and  mentally 
register  a  vow  to  "  look  always  on  the  sunny  side,"  even  in  the 
event  of  a  solar  eclipse. 

"  First-rate  boat,  the  Lydia,"  say  the  two  cheery  ones,  rubbing 
their  hands  as  they  survey  their  comfortable  cabin. 

"  Not  so  good  as  the  Frcderica,"  mutters  Number  Three. 

We  point  out  to  him  that  these  ships  are  twins ;  but  for  retort 
he  only  shakes  his  head  in  a  despondent  manner,  and  observes, 
"Ha!  well!  you'll  see!"  Then,  casting  a  melancholy  glance 
around  at  lowering  clouds,  mischievous-looking  sea,  and  hazy 
coast,  he  adds,  with  the  air  of  one  who  has  completely  resigned 
himself  to  fate,  "  We  shall  be  in  for  a  precious  nasty  dusting," 
and  therewith  disappears. 

We  laugh.  The  Quick-Sandboy  is  a  prophet  of  ill.  Let  us  to 
lunch.  Kxoellent  lunch.  "  No  ice,"  growls  Number  Three.  The 
ice,  however,  appears,  just  as  Number  Three  has  finished  ;  where- 
upon we  two  cool  our  brandies-and-sodas  with  it,  and  drink  his 
very  good  health.  "  Ah,"  says  he,  as  he  steadies  himself,  by 


holding  on  to  a  fixed  seat,  after  lurching  against  the  corner  of 
the  saloon  door-way,  "  I  only  hope  we  sha'n't  lose  our  '  very  good 
health  '  before  we  get  to  Jersey."  And,  warily,  he  ascends  to 
the  upper  deck.  Then,  after  a  brief  struggle  with  the  moveable 
seats  of  our  fixed  chairs,  from  which  we  emerge  with  damaged 
knees,  we  carefully  navigate  our  course  to  the  "  companion," 
vnd  go  by  rAil  (clutching  it  vigorously)  up  on  deck.  Picturesque 
view  of  the  Needles  on  our  left ;  while,  on  the  right,  the  coast 
of  Dorsetshire  is  gradually  becoming  fainter  and  fainter,  and,  in 
this  respect,  bearing  a  striking  resemblance  to  some  among  our 
fellow-passengers. 

"  Delightful  passage !  "  we  two  Sandboys  exclaim  simultane- 
ously, as  the  ship  lollops  between  the  waves,  with  a  thorough 
sailor-like  roll,  and  we  cannon  one  against  the  other,  and 
narrowly  avoid  falling  over  a  bundle  of  rugs  heaped  upon  a  deck- 
chair.  Out  of  this  bundle  quickly  emerges  an  angry  face,  framed 
in  a  travelling-cap  that  completely  envelopes  the  rest  of  the 
head.  To  this  head,  with  glaring  eyes,  we  humbly  apologise,  and 
then  it  occurs  to  us  that  the  best  thing  to  do  will  be  to  retire  to 
our  cabin,  take  some  coffee  and  liqueurs,  and  gradually  acquire 
our  sea-legs. 

Quick-Sandboy  mumbles  something  about  "  preferring  the  fresh 
air  to  the  stuffiness  of  a  cabin,"  and  quits  our  society. 

Sandboy  Number  Two,  after  remaining  some  time  in  the  cabin, 
apparently  asleep,  while  an  innocent  infantine  smile  lights  up  his 
temporarily-inexpressive  features,  suddenly  opens  his  eyes,  and 
after  looking  about  him  in  a  dazed  kind  of  way,  he  nods  with  feeble 
gravity  at  me,  and  hurriedly  observing  that  he  "  will  go  and  see 
how  far  we  "ve  got,"  he  makes  a  dash  at  the  door,  which  opens 
unexpectedly,  precipitating  him,  head  foremost,  out  of  the  cabin 
with  the  celerity  of  Harjequin  when  he  leaps  through  a  shop- 
window.  Only,  Harlequin  invariably  finds,  on  the  other  side, 
four  men  at  hand  to  catch  and  land  him  safely  ;  but  this  arrange- 


120 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[SSPTEMBER    11,    1897. 


HEARD    ON    THE    SANDS. 

1 '  FAKE  CARE  YOTJ  DON'T  FALL,  DEARIE  !  " 

"  IT  "8  ALL  RIGHT,  MUVBR.     I  SB  HOLDING  BY  THE  WlNGS  !  " 


ment  is  lacking  to  Sandboy  Number  Two,  and  when  I  unsteadily 
stagger  up  to  close  the  door  I  can  see  no  trace  of  him.  Doubt- 
less, he,  too,  has  sought  safety  in  flight  to  the  upper  deck. 

I  have  the  cabin  to  myself.  The  ship  is  decidedly  rolling.  The 
cabin  is  certainly  very  comfortable.  And  if —  But  no  matter. 
I  have  an  interesting  book.  Let  me  dispose  myself  to  read,  and 
so  be  indifferent  to  the  rough  weather.  I  read,  I  doze,  I  succeed. 
Feni,  vidi,  viei!  Two  or  three  times  the  door  becomes  unhooked, 
swings  outward  and  returns  with  a  bang.  I  have  to  struggle 
with  its  hook  and  eye.  Then  I  return,  by  a  circuitous  route,  to 
my  couch  and  plump  myself  down  again. 

Outside  I  can  hear  "  great  guns,"  the  splashing  and  dashing  of 
waves  emptying  buckets  of  sea-water  over  the  deck.  I  catch 
sounds  of  lurching  people,  bumping  people,  and  sliding 

people and  then  trie  rattle  of  tin  and  crockery — and  I 

know  that  if  I  go  outside  my  cabin  I  shall,  like  Lady  Macbeth's 
waiting-maid,  "  see  what  I  should  not."  So,  copying  the  ad- 
mirable example  set  by  Brer  Rabbit,  "I  lay  low  and  say  nuffin." 

Guernsey. — I  emerge.  Grateful  and  fresh.  Here,  on  deck,  is 
Sandboy  Number  Two,  who  says,  "Splendid  sea!  But  off  the 
Casquettes  we  did  get  a  dusting."  By  this  process  of  "  dusting  " 
to  which  he  has  been  subjected,  he  seems  to  have  had  all  the 
colour  taken  out  of  him.  But  he  "comes  up  smiling,"  and 
protests  he  has  never  enjoyed  himself  so  much — under  similar 
circumstances.  Quick-Sandboy  growls,  "  Deuce  of  a  passage ! 
Devoutly  hope  we  shall  get  to  Jersey.  But  fancy  having  to  come 
back  again !  " 

It  is  strange  to  remark  that  once  in  calm  water,  the  decks, 
which  but  a  few  minutes  before  had  been  clear,  suddenly  be- 
come alive  with  people  whose  motto  is  "  Resurgamus,"  and  who, 
so  to  speak,  "rise  to  the  occasion,"  from  various  mysterious 
depths  of  the  vessel.  Pluckily,  after  several  rounds  with 
Neptune,  they  mostly  "  come  up  smiling,"  though  with  a  visible 
effort.  A  goodish  number  of  them  appear  in  all  sorts  and  condi- 
tions of  unwellness,  and  are  so  changed  since  I  last  saw  them, 
hale,  hearty,  and  hopeful,  at  Southampton,  that  "it  would  be 
difficult,"  as  Quick-Sandboy  remarks,  "  for  even  their  own  mothers 
to  recognise  them." 

Guernsey  islanders  come  on  board,  selling,  or  attempting  to 
sell,  grapes  and  fruit.  Their  chance  is  a  small  one,  and  their  time 
limited.  In  another  quarter  of  an  hour  we  are  off.  We  pace  the 
deck  cheerily.  Fair  sailing  now.  "Not  for  long,  though,"  says 
Quick-Sandboy,  who  credits  the  elements  with  any  amount  oi 
trickiness.  Through  glasses  we  inspect  Alderney,  Sark,  the 
Casquettes.  The  evening  is  turning  out  beautifully.  Hallo 
beginning  to  lurch  again.  "  Said  so,"  remarks  Sandboy  Number 
Three,  grimly. 

Retirement  to  cabin ;  for  meditation.  Meditation  occupies 
an  hour.  Sandboy  Number  One,  whose  face  has  almost  entirely 
recovered  its  normally  healthy  tone,  summons  me  to  see  the 


view  and  the  commencing  sun-set.  St.  Owen's  Bay,  then  St. 
3relade's  :  lovely!  "I've  seen  finer,"  observes  Quick-Sandboy, 
disparagingly.  The  Lydia  comes  round  the  point  with  such 
majestic  stateliness,  in  so  elegant  and  self-contained  a  manner, 
tnd  so  absolutely  steady,  that  no  one,  seeing  her  now,  would  ever 
suspect  her  capable  of  such  "  goings  on  "  as  we,  who  have  been 
with  her  all  along,  can  testify  to.  But  all 's  well  that  ends  well ; 
tnd  everyone  is  well  now,  and  eager  for  the  shore  ;  and  all,  in- 
cluding the  Quick-Sandboy,  heartily  compliment  Lydia  on  her 
ulmirable  conduct  in  the  most  trying  circumstances  over  which 
she  could  not  possibly  be  expected  to  exercise  any  control. 

St.  Helier's. — Landed.  Mysterious  man  in  uniform  addresses 
is  in  a  language  which  is  uncommonly  like  broken  French  or 
iroken  F/nglish,  but  is  not  exactly  one  or  the  other.  Sandboy 
Xumber  Two  interprets.  Man  in  uniform  is  the  conductor  of 
Jrand  Hotel  'bus,  and  is  explaining  to  us  that  as  we  are  "first 
•ome  "  we  can  be  "  first  served,"  by  being  put  into  a  chariot  and 
driven  straight  to  the  Hotel,  while  the  omnibus  is  loading  up. 
Accepting  the  thoughtful  islander's  generous  offer,  we  are  driven 
at  a  rapid  rate  along  the  front  to  the  Grand.  Haven't  seen 
Jersey  for  years.  It  has  spread  out  right  and  left,  but,  in  a 
general  way,  'tis  much  the  same. 

We  are  shown  our  rooms  at  the  Grand  Hotel.  Sandboys 
lumbers  One  and  Two  "are  satisfied,"  like  Cox  and  Box.  Quick- 
Sandboy,  however,  who  has  far  and  away  the  best  of  the  three 
rooms,  mutters,  in  a  depreciating  tone,  "Tim!  Yes — it  will  do." 
'  Will  he  change  ?  "  No,  he  won't  change,  because  he  might  get 
i  worse.  We  tell  him  it  is  a  first-rate  room  ;  as  it  really  is.  But 
ie  refuses  to  admit  it,  and  then  wanders  disconsolately  about  the 
Hotel  bewailing  the  tardy  arrival  of  his  bag.  The  Two  Other 
Sandboys  induce  him  to  take  a  turn  before  dinner.  He  consents. 

"  Now,"  says  Sandboy  Number  One  to  Sandboy  Number  Two, 
as  we  stand  looking  out  over  the  deep  blue  sea,  and  gazing  at 
bold  and  dangerous  rocks  toned  to  a  bright  purple  in  the  last 
glow  of  the  setting  sun,  "  now,  this  is  worth  coming  any  distance 
to  see !  " 

"  Magnificent !  "  murmurs  Number  Two. 

"Devonshire  and  Cornwall  are  just  as  fine,"  growls  Number 
Three,  "and  one  hasn't  got  a  confounded  sea  passage  to  get 
at  'em." 

Suddenly  he  starts.     "  Ah  !  " 

"What's  the  matter?"  exclaim  the  first  two  Sandboys,  con- 
siderably alarmed,  while  many  of  the  promenaders  make  a  halt, 
deeply  interested. 

"  My  bag !  "  almost  shrieks  the  Quick-Sandboy.  And  before 
we  can  interfere,  he  has  broken  from  us,  dashed  across  the  road, 
and  made  for  the  hotel,  where,  in  another  couple  of  seconds,  the 
cause  of  his  anxiety,  the  bag,  from  which  he  has  been  separated 
for  about  the  space  of  fifteen  minutes,  is  once  again  in  the  arms 
of  its  distracted  owner. 

Comparing  notes,  the  Two  Sandboys  own  to  a  "  don't-quite- 
know-where-we-are  "  sort  of  feeling,  coupled  with  a  distrust  of 
our  legs,  while,  at  the  same  time,  conscious  of  a  whizziness  in 
the  head,  as  if  the  works,  after  having  been  set  whirring  violently 
round  and  round,  were  now  gradually  slowing  down  again.  But, 
— what  cheer,  my  hearty  !  Avast,  my  messmates!  Dinner  it  is! 


TROP  FORT! 

["  Dawn-parties  "  are  the  latest  fashion  in  France.] 

'TWAS  the  grunt  of  a  Frenchman,  I  heard  him  complain- 
You  have  called  me  too  soon,  I  must  slumber  again  ; 
Mon  l)ieu!     I  was  due  at  a  dance  on  the  dew 
At  daybreak  this  morning — a  thing  I  eschew  1 

'Tis  scarcely  a  mode  that  is  tres  rigolo 

On  a  series  of  visits  at  cock-crow  to  go  ; 

Though  at  sunrise  the  ladies  their  friends  may  invite, 

'Tis  better  to  fice-o'-cloqwr  at  midnight! 

For  whether  I  wake  at  or  sit  up  till  five, 
At  that  hour  of  the  morn  I  'm  more  dead  than  alive  ; 
The  milkman  and  burglar  around  may  then  roam  ; 
But  for  me  de  grand  matin  there  's  no  place  like  home  1 

They  may  say  'tis  Watteau-like  and  full  of  romance 
To  rise  with  the  one  lark  that 's  still  left  in  France  ; 
But  the  only  engagement  so  early  I  keep 
Is  a  duel  pour  Tire — so  once  more  let  me  sleep  I 


KANGAROOS   WHO   ARE   NEVER 
Troops. 


'  BOUNDERS." — The    Australian 


SEPTEMBER  18,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


121 


STRICTLY    RESPECTABLE. 

Master.  "AND  von  CAN  SPEAK  FOR  THIS  YorNo  MAN'S  CHARACTER, 
DENNIS  I " 

Man.  "INDADB,  AND  I  CAN,  SORR.  I  'VB  KNOWED  HIM  FVEB 
SINCE  HE  DOME  TO  I  1VK  IN  THIS  TOWN,  81X  MONTHS  AGO,  AND  HI  '*• 
NIVIB,  BEEN  BEFORE  A  MAGISTRATE — NOT  WAN8T  I  " 


A  LITTLE  CUBBING. 

Wednesday. — Lady  QOODWORK'S  bazaar— most  enjoyable  way 
of  spending  quiet,  instructive  afternoon.  Introduced  to  divinity 
in  blue  serge  at  crewel-work  stall — charming  little  brunette  and 
great  sportswoman.  Talked  hunting  and  fishing.  Said  ihe  had 
caught,  this  autumn,  salmon  (or  was  it  cod  ?  forget  which,  not 
having  sporting  proclivities  myself)  of  twenty-five  pounds,  and 
that  she  wa.s  «i  looking  forward  to  hunting  season.  Said  she 
"hated  men  who  weren't  sportsmen."  Piomptly  lied  to  her, 
and  said  I  was  devoted  to  hunting.  Could  see  I  went  up  im- 
mensely in  her  estimation — was  pleased.  Introduced  to  her 
father,  Sir  HARDRIDE  FOXINGTON,  who  said  I  must  hunt  with 
them — was  not  pleased.  ''  Come  for  little  cubbing,  next  week,"  he 
says.  Don't  know  what  he  means,  but  accept  ;  doesn't  sound  so 
dangerous  as  hunting,  anyhow.  Ask  guardedly,  "  W  here  do  you 
cub  ?  "  Sir  H.  looks  astonished  ;  so  I  smile,  as  though  I  had  spoken 
in  joke  ;  smile  always  safe  investment  in  such  cases.  He  laughs 
boisterously,  and  says,  "  Come  down  to  Hackhunter  Hall ;  I  '11 
put  you  up  all  right."  Nods  knowingly  at  me — I  nod  knowingly 
at  him.  Wonder  what  "  putting  me  up  "  means?  Giving  bed  for 
the  night,  or  mount  to  enable  me  to  cub?  Must  order  new 
breeches  ;  haven't  ridden,  even  in  Park,  for  years. 

Saturday. — New  brepchos  home — uncomfortable — almost  pain- 
ful. Have  them  altered  four  times  during  day — rather  worse  at 
end  of  time  than  at  first.  Can't  In-  helped.  Look  up  train  in 
Pradshair,  and  practice  saying  "  Hoic "  in  aggressive  tones. 


Haven't  tin*  faintest  idea  what  it  means,  but  suppose  everyone 
who  cubs  ought  to  make  remarks  of  that  sort  at  interval* :  be- 
lieve there  is  some  word  that  comes  aft.-r  Mi>ic"  to  complete 
sentence,  but  am  not  sure. 

Monday. — Arrive  at  Hackhunter  Hall,  and  am  most  hospitably 
received.  My  enslaver  looking  more  charming  than  iver. 
Really  think  I  might  do  worse.  Think  she  would  consent ; 
seemed  so  impressed  with  me  at  bazaar.  Excellent  dinner, 
though  pattern  of  plates  trifle  too  pnmoncf,  and  drawing-room 
curtain*  a  shade  too  primary  in  colour.  Talk  exclusively  sport- 
ing— rather  thin  ice  for  me.  "  Got  nice  horse  for  you  to- 
morrow," says  Sir  H.,  "takes  hold  a  bit,  but  fine  jumper." 
What  does  "Takes  hold  a  bit"  mean?  Query,  "Takes  hold  of 
a  bit,"  eh?  "Must  start  six  bharp,"  he  adds.  "Oh,  not  till 
evening?"  I  say.  Sir  H.  laughs,  and  calls  me  "a  wag."  Hate 
''wax*" — and  then  full  horror  of  situation  breaks  in  on  me — 
realize  that  he  means  6  A.M.  Never  heard  of  anything  so  in- 
human ;  felt  inclined  to  protest,  but  didn't  dare.  Drawing- 
room — music — bed. 

Tuesday. — Knock  at  my  door.  Raining.  Hooray !  surely  they 
won't  cub  in  the  wet  1  "  Shaving  water,  Sir,  and  will  you 
have  your  bath  quite  cold  or —  Come  in."  I  say.  "  Suppose 

this  rain  will  prevent  our  starting,  eh?"  "Oh,  no,  Sir," 
says  faithful  servitor.  "  Master  never  stops  for  ram,  nor  the 
young  mistress  neither."  Hate  faithful  servitor  on  the  spot. 
Of  course,  he  can  be  cheerful ;  hr  hasn't  got  to  sit  on  wet  saddle 
in  the  early  morning.  Groan  and  turn  over  in  bed  again. 
"  Yo-i  "aren't  too  much  time,  Sir."  Wish  faithful  servitor 
would  die  suddenly.  Exit  F.  S.  Dash  into  tub.  Peep  out  of 
win. low.  Raining  harder  than  ever,  ugh  I  Why  such  an  ass  aa  to 
come  ?  and  how  the  deuce  do  you  cub,  anyhow  ?  Descend  stairs 
— greet  inamorato  and  Sir  H.  Watch  them  eat  breakfast.  I 
breakfast  out  of  tall  tumbler.  Sir  H.'s  Etonian  son  (littU  beast), 
with  mouth  full  of  pie,  stares  at  me.  and  says,  "I  say,  Mr. 
CiiANKit,  you  do  look  in  a  blue  funk."  Could  cheerfully  have 
followed  his  funeral  at  that  moment.  "We  must  be  off."  lays 
Sir  H.  Proceed  to  Hall  door.  Am  armed  with  long-thonged 
implement  like  fishing-rod.  "That's  your  horse,"  says  Sir  H., 
indicating  beast  trying  to  hit  groom  over  head  with  fore-paws. 
"  The  ginger  one  ?  "  I  ask.  fearfully.  "  The  chestnut,"  he  replies. 
Try  ti  get  on — can't.  Try  other  side  of  him.  Groom  giggles. 
"  I  '11  give  you  a  leg-up,"  says  Sir  H.  Leg-up  much  too  vigorous. 
I  perform  »rial  flight  over  Ginger's  back  and  alight  gracefully  on 
far  side.  Try  again — succeed — gather  up  reins  and  thong  in 
inextricable  tangle,  and  bump  off  down  drive.  Bump  along  many 


slang.  "  You  've  only  to  sit  and  hold  him.  and  he  '11  give  you  lots 
of  fun."  Think  this  highly  likely.  Saddle  very  hard  and  unsym- 
pathetic. Stirrup  leathers  too  short,  now.  Wish  Ginger 
wouldn't  arch  his  back  and  squeak— so  upsetting.  Arrive  at  meet. 
Inamorata  says,  "  You  must  give  me  a  lead  if  we  come  across 
anything  big."  Try  to  smile  jauntily — don't  feel  jaunty,  some- 
how. Gallop  up  and  down  wood  for  no  particular  reason.  Stand 
still  again  and  shiver — still  raining.  Ginger  strikes  ground  re- 
peatedly with  fore-paw,  sending  mud-showers  into  eye  of  irate 
person  on  right.  Irate  person  gasps,  and  turns  to  say  things  to 
me,  so  jerk  Ginger's  reins,  and  with  terrific  spluttering*, 
smothering  all  around,  gallop  off.  Huntsman  getting  warm,  and 
"Hoic-ing."  Cannot  hoic,  myself,  too  much  out  of  breath. 
Must  apologise  to  Sir  H.  for  this  omission,  later  on.  All  dogs 
rush  off  together — we  follow  as  far  as  forbidding  post  and  rails. 
No  gate.  Inamorata  gallops  up  and  jumps  rails.  Shut  my  eyes 
as  Ginger  actually  pricks  up  ears  and  tears  along  towards  them. 
Haul  at  his  stupid  head  in  vain — up  he  goes  into  the  air.  I  go 
up  much  higher  than  he  does.  Descent  absolutely  terrible 
sit  on  his  ears  for  one  moment,  waving  arms  about  for  some- 
thing to  catch  hold  of — find  nothing — am  grovelling  in  mud, 
whilst  Ginger  speeds  gaily  on  after  hounds.  He  has  evidently 
not  even  missed  me !  Walk  home.  12.35  back  to  town.  Shall 
not  cub  again.  Bazaar  much  better  fun. 

Pub  and  Club. 
(Mem.  by  a  Moderate  Drinker.) 

WEALTHY  folk  who  pass  their  Sunday 
Eating,  drinking,  dawdling,  dozing, 
Working  folks'  unworking  one  day 

Would  subject  to  "  Sunday  Closing." 
But  'tis  they  who  'd  void  the  poor  man's  cup 
Who  perhaps  most  merit — shutting  up ! 


VOL.  cxiu. 


122 


POW  OH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[SEPTEMBER  18,  1897. 


TRIALS    OF    A    NOVICE. 

Old  JIaw>:    "  Now,    FOR  THE    LAST    TIME,    FOR    GOODNESS*   SAKE    DON'T    SHOOT  ANY   OP  Us, 

OR  THE  Does,  OR  YouRSBLp."  Novite  (sarcastically).  "WHAT  ABOUT  THE  BIRDS?" 

Old  ffand.  "On,  YOU  WON'T  HIT  THEM!" 


THE  NEW  NOVEL-WRITING. 

(A  sligJitty-anticipatory  Interview.) 

"  IF  there  is  one  thing  that  I  hate  more 
than  another,"  said  the  Eminent  Author, 
"  it  is  being  interviewed.  My  nature  is  the 
most  modest  and  retiring  one  imaginable. 
I  detest  advertisements,  except  those  of 
my  books ;  and  it  is  monstrous  that,  for  a 
simple,  unassuming  man  like  myself,  publi- 
cation should  involve  publicity.  Besides. 
how  am  I  to  enjoy  the  quiet  so  essential 
for  working  out  my  colossal  masterpieces, 
if  my  privacy  is  to  be  invaded  in  this  way  ? 
No ;  I  simply  refuse  to  be  interviewed  by 
any  journalist ' 

"In  that  case,"  I  said,  rising  to  leave,  "I 
will  not  trouble  you  further." 

To  my  surprise,  the  Eminent  Author 
jocked  the  door  and  placed  his  back  against 
it.  "Don't  be  foolish,"  he  said,  irritably, 
"  and  let  me  finish  my  sentence.  I  refuse 
to  be  interviewed  by  any  journalist  who 
devotes  less  than  two  columns  to  his  de- 
scription of  my  house  and  his  eulogy  of 
myself.  You  've  got  down  all  that  about 
my  modest  and  unassuming  character? 
All  right  ;  now  we  can  get  on.  Please  take 
down  all  I  say.  The  illustrious  and  world- 
famed  novelist  who  is  the  subject  of  our 


sketch  is   descended  from  an   old  county 
family,  and  was  born  in  the  year 

"  Pardon  me,"  I  interrupted,  "  but  I 
lon't  want  all  that.  It's  been  published 
ilready  within  the  last  month  in  a  dozen 
papers." 

In  a  dozen?"  he  exclaimed,  angrily. 
"In  thirty  at  the  very  least  I  In  a  dozen, 
indeed !  What  do  you  take  me  for  ?  Do 
you  think  I  am  a  miserable  second-rate 
writer  who  is  only  interviewed  once  a 
week  or  so  ?  " 

I  made  my  apologies.  "  But  what  I 
wanted  especially  to  know,"  I  continued, 
"  is  the  system  by  which  your  talented 
books- " 

"  My  colossal  masterpieces,"  he  amended, 
sharply. 

"  By  which  your  colossal  masterpieces 
are  put  together.  For  I  understand  that 
the  labour  of  compiling  them  is  shared  by 
you  with  a  good  many  other  persons  ?  " 

"Certainly  it  is,"  said  the  Eminent 
Author.  "  In  former  times,  as  perhaps 
you  remember,  there  was  a  quite  absurd 
idea  in  vogue  that  a  writer  must  have  a 
close  personal  acquaintance  with  the  scenes 
and  modes  of  life  he  depicted.  The  death- 
blow to  that  fallacy  was  struck  by  a  Manx 
novelist,  who  enjoyed  a  certain  repute  in 
his  day.  It  was  he  who  first  hit  on  the 


plan  of  having  his  proof-sheets  revised  by 
a  dozen  different  people  who  were  autho- 
ritiei  on  various  subjects.  This,  you  per- 
ceive, waa  a  great  improvement,  as  it 
freed  him  from  the  necessity  of  having  any 
but  the  most  superficial  knowledge  of  what 
he  wrote  about.  I,  however,  have  carried 
the  system  further  with  the  most  splendid 
results." 

"And,  in  fact,"  I  suggested,  "you  have 
no  first-hand  knowledge  of  your  subjects  at 
all  ?  " 

"  Exactly.  And  you  will  perceive  that 
this  greatly  facilitates  the  production  of 
colossal  masterpieces.  Take  the  work,  for 
instance,  that  I  have  at  present  in  hand. 
One  of  its  most  thrilling  and  dramatic 
scenes  takes  place  in  a  coal-mine.  Now,  I 
haven't  the  least  idea  what  a  coal-mine  is 
like,  so  the  whole  of  that  chapter  is  being 
written  for  me  by  the  superintendent  of  a 
mine.  Again,  there  is  in  it  a  delightful 
little,  idyll  of  love  in  a  Devonshire  village, 
and  of  course  a  large  number  of  rustic 
characters  are  introduced — readers  always 
like  them.  What  do  I  know  of  Devon- 
shire rustits  ?  How  can  I  learn  how  to  dis- 
place the  consonants  and  vowels  in  order 
to  reproduce  their  dialect  P  '  Go  and  study 
them  for  myself,'  you  say?  No,  thank 
you.  I  don't  take  the  least  interest  in  the 
creatures.  Besides,  that  isn't  my  work ; 
I  Ve  pot  to  stay  at  home  and  be  inter- 
viewed. No  :  all  that  part  of  my  book  is 
being  written  for  me  by  a  competent 
Devonshire  man.  Then  my  scenery  is  sup- 
plied by  an  eminent  R.A.,  and  a  writer  in 
a  ladies'  fashion  journal  dresses  my  heroine. 
In  fact,  there  are  about  two  dozen  persons 
inst  now  at  work  on  my  behalf.  Owing  to 
this  system,  I  can  produce  a  new  book  pvery 
three  months  with  the  least  possible  trou- 
ble, and  my  income  is  simply  enormous." 

"I  congratulate  you  heartily,"  I  said. 
"And  now  would  you  mind  telling  me 
what  exactly  is  the  work  which  you  your- 
self do  ?  Are  you  responsible  for  the  plots  ?" 

"I  have  been,  hitherto."  the  Eminent 
Author  replied.  "But  if  I  can  only  find  a 
specialist  to  supply  me  with  them  ready- 
made.  I  shall  certainly  emnloy  him  ;  it 
would  save  so  much  trouble.  Then  I 
should  simnlv  have  to  combine  the  mate- 
rials sunnlied  me  by  mv  various  agents, 
and  could  produce  a  colossal  masterpiece 
every  week.  What  an  improvement  on 
the  old  davs,  when  a  novelist  had  to  do  the 
whole  thine — plot,  and  character-studv, 
and  local  colour,  and  soenerv — himself!" 

"It  is  indeed,'^  I  assented.  "And  the 
sitnply  enormous  income — von  share  that, 
of  course,  with  your  collaborator*;  ?  " 

The  Eminent  Author  rose.  "I  have  fold 
vou  enough."  he  Rsid :  "and,  as  T  said.  I 
hate  being  interviewed.  I  would  fain  be 
alone — alone  with  the  mighty  thoughts 
that  crowd  unon  mv  master-mind,  thoughts 
which  will  delight  thousands  of  readers,  and 
make  my  name  immortal.  Here  are  seven 
photographs  of  myself,  and  soms  views  of 
my  honse.  Now  pn  away,  please.  The 
interview  is  concluded." 


Hawke  Notwithstanding. 

Horatio  (tn  CLEOPATRA).  And  so  he  died 
of  a  broken  heart  at  the  end  of  Alay. 

Cleopatra.  Poor  fellow!  What  a  pity  he 
didn't  wait  to  pick  it  all  up  again  over 
Goodwood  or  the  Leger. 

SUGGESTED  START  FOR  IMPERIAL  RECI- 
PROCITY.— A  sample  of  Indian  sunshine  for 
an  equivalent  in  English  rain. 


SBPTKMBKB  18,  1897.]  PUNCH,     OR     THE     LONDON     CHARIVARI.  123 


A   TRUE    BELIEVER. 

Constantia.   "  OH,  UNCLE  BURLEIOH,  IT  's  PERFECTLY  WONDERFUL  !      SHB  TOLD  ME  THE  MOST  EXTRAORDINARY  THINGS  ABOUT 

MYSELF  !      SUE  SAID   I   WAS   BORN  A  TWIN,  AND  LOST  BOTH  MY  PARENTS  AT  THE  AGE  OF  FIVE,  AND  INHERITED  AN   ENORMOUS  FORTUNE 
FROM   A  VERY   FAIR  MAN  !  " 

Sir Burleigh M 'Gtarcl,  Q.C.B.  "Bur,  TO  THE  BEST  OF  MY  RECOLLECTION,  NONE  OF  THEME  THINGS  ARE  so." 
Conitantia  (hesitating).    'N— NO."    (Puzzled.)     "  BUT  ISN'T  THAT  JUST  WHAT  MAKES  IT  so  EXTRAORDINARY  !" 


SPOETIVE  SONGS. 

On  a  cold  and  rainy  September  day,  a  Sportsman  recollects  an  incident 
of  day  a  gone  by 

THE  end  of  the  Summer  is  with  us  again, 

There 's  a  Winter-like  sniff  from  the  mould, 
There  's  an  icicle  chill  in  the  drip  of  the  rain 

That  prophesies  shortcoming  cold. 
The  swallows  are  packing  their  boxes  to  fly 

To  a  land  where  there's  sunshine  galore, 
And  the  very  last  rose  is  preparing  to  die, 

While  we  're  putting  the  filberts  in  store. 

I  am  writing  to  you  in  the  thickest  of  coaU, 

With  a  horrible  cold  in  my  head, 
And  a  sovpton  of  one  of  those  very  sore  throats 

That  may  possibly  end  me  in  bed. 
I  have  never  a  comforter — barring  the  line 

You  address  me,  infrequent  and  rare. 
It 's  so  welcome  I     And  do  you,  dear,  ever  repine 

For  the  letters  I  should  have  sent—wherrf 

To  the  place  where  we  met,  when  I  hoped  for  the  best, 

A  Dead-Alive  village  unknown, 
But  dearer  than  any  to  us — it  was  blest, 

When  we  mutually  murmured,  "My  own  I" 
But  since  we  have  parted,  for  ever  and  aye, 

And  we  do  not  play  "  Where.  When;  and  How," 
I  suppose  there  is  something  about  this  cold  day 

That  has  made  me  remember  you  now. 

What  is  it  ?    I  think  I  have  got  the  right  clue, 
Unromantic,  but  none  the  leas  sure, 


It  was  something  appealing  to  me,  not  to  you, 
Though  it  made  of  our  love-stress  a  cure. 

On  just  such  a  day  we  were  perished  and  faint, 
On  a  walk  in  a  country-side  lane, 

And  I  said  a  harsh  word — then  came  tears,  then  the  - 
That  LB  coloured  again  and  again  1 

*  li  "  Saint "  quite  the  right  word  ?— ED. 


-Saint/ 


THOSE  WHO  ABE  ALWAYS  WITH  US. 

THE  Tipster,  who  knows  the  winners  of  a  great  Double  Event, 
say  the  Cesarewitch  and  the  Cambridgeshire. 

The  Personage,  whose  great-great-grandmother  danced  with 
the  Duke  of  WELLINGTON  on  the  Eve  of  Waterloo  at  the  Duchess 
of  RICHMOND'S  Ball. 

The  Individual,  who  once  shot  forty  brace  of  partridges  to  his 
own  gun  in  three  hours. 

The  Cueist,  who  took  ninety  points  at  billiards  from  ROBERTS 
and  beat  him  by  one. 

The  Dramatist,  who  has  a  suitable  play  always  ready  for  Sir 
HENRY  IRVING,  Mr.  WILSON  BARRETT,  Mr.  CUARLKS  \\YNDHAM, 
Mr.  DAN  LENO,  and  Mr.  GEORGE  EDWARDES. 

The  Lady  Novelist,  without  an  efficient  publisher,  owing  to  the 
realistic  nature  of  her  romances. 

The  Gentleman,  who  calls  with  a  black  bag  and  leaves  a  missive 
marked  "  Last  Application  "  printed  in  red  ink. 

The  Lady,  who  is  collecting  for  a  hospital  in  the  East  End,  and 
would  be  thankful  for  the  smallest  subscription. 

The  Member  of  the  Club,  who  is  supposed  to  be  at  Homburg 
or  Marienbad,  but  has  kippers  or  buttered  eggs  every  morning 
in  Pail  Mall — unless  exchanged  to  other  premises  in  the  vicinity. 


124 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[SEPTEMBER  18,  1897. 


father. 


SIR  FILLIAM  HARCOURT'OM  "POLITICAL  WEATHER." 

(With  apologies  to  On  ToungParim  of  the  "  Daily  Graphic.") 

["  The  political  weather  ji  very  much  .like  the^natural  weather I 

believe  that  in  public  affain  you  will  «ee  a  treat  change  before  lonj." — 
Rtemt  Sfttch  at  Malwood.] 


AN    ERROR    OF    JUDGMENT. 

A  DIALOGTTI  STORY  IN  SEVEN  PABTS. 
PABT  VI. 

Sown — The  Garden.      BOWATBH  is  teated  dejectedly  in  one  of  the  wicker 

chairs,  at  CAMILLA  comes  out  from  the  house. 

Camilla   (to  herself) .  He   is  here  I     If  I  can  only   make  him 
thoroughly    ashamed    of   himself  I     (Aloud,    sweetly.)     Ah,    Mr. 


What  a  triumph  for  you  to  have  discovered  such  a  genius  I  How 
proud  and  delighted  you  must  be  feeling ! 

Bowater  (to  himself).  I'm  really  not  equal  to  going  into  rap- 
tures just  now.  (Aloud.)  Oh — er— it  is  gratifying,  naturally, 
though  I  should  hardly — er — I  mean  to  say,  "  Genius  "  is  perhaps 
rather  an  extravagant  term  to  use. 

Camilla  (to  herself) .  I  thought  he  would  try  to  wriggle  out  of 
it  I  (Aloud.)  But  you  used  it  at  lunch.  You  placed  KK/IA — 
or  Miss  STJLWELL,  as  I  suppose  we  ought  to  call  her  now — on  a 
higher  level  than  JANE  AUSTEN  or  GEORGE  ELIOT. 

Bowater.  Pardon  me — on  a  different  level. 

Camilla.  Well,  but  you  must  have  ranked  the  author  of  Stolen 
Sweets  very  high  indeed,  or  you  would  not  have  been  so  unusually 
enthusiastic ! 

Bowater  (feebly).  It  is — er — just  possible  that  I  was — er — be- 
trayed into  some  slight  exaggeration. 

Camilla.  You  are  much  too  acute  and  conscientious  a  critic 
to  give  any  praise  that  was  not  thoroughly  deserved.  And  why 
should  you — when  you  had  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  author 
was  present? 

Bowater.  Oh— er — as  to  that,  I  can  assure  you  Miss — er — SMI- 
WELL'S  connection  with  the  manuscript  took  me  completely  by 
surprise. 

Camilla.  It  does  seem  extraordinary.  I  always  considered  her 
rather  a  superior  sort  of  girl,  it  is  true,  but  even  now  I  can't 
think  how  she  can  have  acquired  sufficient  culture  to  impress 


such  a  fastidious  judge  as  you.  And  then  it 's  so  marvellous,  too, 
that,  although,  as  I  know,  her  employers  have  always  been  mere 
commoners  like  myself,  she  should  have  managed  to  draw  a 
viscount,  wasn't  it  ?  and  a  lady  of  title  and  their  surroundings 
with  such  unerring  accuracy.  She  must  be  a  genius ! 

Bowater  (uncomfortably).  I — I  fear  her  work  is — er — marred 
by  crudities  and — er — solecisms  which — 

Camilla.  Which  did  not  strike  you  until  you  discovered  that 
it  was  written  by  a  parlourmaid?  Really,  Mr.  BOWATEB,  I 
thought  you  were  above  such  petty  social  prejudices ! 

Bowater.  Miss  LTDE,  you  seem  to  think  I  am  trying  to  get  out 
of  publishing  her  book  ! 

Camilla.  After  all  your  praises  P  Oh,  no,  I  know  you  too  well 
to  believe  you  capable  of  such  meanness  as  that.  Such  an  ad- 
vantage for  her,  poor  girl,  to  be  taken  up  by  one  so  generous 
and  even  princely  in  all  his  dealings!  With  you,  she  is  certain 
of  a  substantial  reward  for  her  labours.  (To  herself.)  It  serves 
him  right — he  deserves  to  pay  I 

Bowater  (to  himself).  This  is  rather  too  much  I  (Aloud.) 
I — I  feel  bound  to  explain  that  the  manuscript  of  which  I  ex- 
pressed such  warm  admiration  this  morning  was  not  Miss 
STILWELL'S. 

Camilla  (to  herself).  I  wonder  what  next  he  will  say  1  (Aloud.} 
Indeed,  then  whose  was  it?' 

Bowater.  That  I  can't  tell  you.  It  was  an  anonymous  story 
which  I  received  a  few  days  ago,  and  left  at  Mr.  ALABASTER'S  on 
my  way  here,  with  a  note  to  tell  him  how  highly  I  thought  of  it. 


mine I  wonder  if  it  could  by  any  chance Do  you  happen 

to  recollect  what  it  was  called  ? 

Bowater  (to  himself) .  I  only  wish  I  could  I  (Aloud.)  Why, 
oddly  enough,  the  title  has  quite  escaped  me. 

Camilla  (to  herself).  He's  abominably  cunning!  (Aloud.) 
Well,  my— my  friend's  manuscript  was  type-written,  in  blue  ink, 
and  the  title  was  missing.  Does  that  help  you  at  all  ? 

Bowater  (to  himself).  It's  saved  me  I  (Aloud,  eagerly.)  Miss 
LTDE,  I'm  almost — I'm  positively  certain  it's  the  very  same! 
This  novel  was  typed  in  blue  ink,  too,  and,  by  Jove  I  I  remember 
now.  the  front  page  was  gone.  And,  if  I  may  say  so,  there  wa»  a 
touch  about  the  book  that  irresistibly  reminded  me  of — 

Camilla  (quickly).  Not  of  my  work,  Mr.  BOWATEB!  You  are 
not  going  to  say  that ! 

Boifater.  I  was.  Indeed,  I  remarked  as  much  to  Miss  VTVIAN. 
I  felt  almost  certain  you  had  written  it. 

Camilla  (to  herself).  Perfectly  shameless!  (Aloud.)  But  it 
was  Kezia's  novel  that  you  praised  at  lunch,  you  know. 

BovMter  (taken  aback).  Er — that  is  so.  But,  for  the  moment, 
I — I  got  it  into  my  head  that  it  was  yours. 

Camilla.  Because  of  the  "  crudities "  and  "  solecisms  "t  So 
many  thanks  I 

Bowater  (distractedly).  No,  no,  no!  Look  here,  Miss  LTDE, 
the  truth  is,  I  've  never  read  a  single  line  of  Stolen  Sweets — there ! 

Camilla.  I  think  you  forget  that  you  mentioned  a  scene  in  the 
book  that  particularly  strn  k  you,  and  spoke  of  its  masterly  style 
and  treatment,  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  It  seems  a  little  singular 
that  you  could  do  that  if  you  had  never  read  a  line  of  it  I 

Bowater.  If  you  remember,  I — er — only  did  it  by  frequent 
appeals  to  ALABASTER,  who  had  read  it. 

Camilla.  Then  it  was  Mr.  ALABASTER  who  really  admired  it? 

Bowater.  Well-^-er — he  didn't  exactly.  (Helplessly.)  It  was 
an  unfortunate  misapprehension — quite  impossible  to  explain. 

Camilla.  You  seem  to  find  it  so.  Well,  Mr.  BOWATER,  I  will 
admit  that  I  did  take  it  into  my  head — I  see  now  how  foolish  it 
was — to — to  test  the  sincerity  of  the  appreciation  you  were  kind 
enough  to  profess  of  my  literary  work  by  sending  you  a  story 
anonymously.  The  result  has  been — disappointing. 

Bowater.  Don't  say  that,  Miss  LTDE  I  Wait  at  least  till  I 
produce  this  other  manuscript,  and  I  am  in  great  hopes  that  I 
may  succeed  in  convincing  you  that — 

Camilla.  That  it  was  the  novel  which  you  recognised  as  a 
masterpiece  ?  You  may  succeed  in  doing  that,  Mr.  BOWATER,  but 
you  cannot  persuade  me  that  it  was  mine — and  I  will  tell  you 
why.  Mine  was  never  sent  at  all.  It  was  accidentally  destroyed. 

Bowater  (to  himself,  crushed).  Just  my  infernal  luck!  (Aloud.) 
Oh  !  I — I  was  not  aware  of  that. 

Camilla  (drily).  So  I  imagined.  It  is  a  little  unfortunate, 
isn't  it  ? 

Bowater.  But  you  have  probably  kept  a  copy  ?  If  you  would 
permit  me  to  glance  at  it. 

Camilla.  I  thought  your  enthusiasm  wasn't  dependent  on  that 
little  formality  ....  No,  Mr.  BOWATER,  it  is  really  no  use.  I 
happen  to  know  all,  and  I  don't  intend  to  surfeit  you  with  a 


SBPTKMBKK  18,  1897.] 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI 


125 


rival  instalment  of  ,S'Mc«  Sweet*.  You  wem  to  me  to  have 
enough  already.  Seriously,  how  can  you  expect  me  ever  to  trust 
you  again  after  deceiving  me  so  shumofully  '? 

ItoimtiT.  \S  hut  was  I  to  do?  I  found— or  thought  I  bad 
found  that  I  hail  inadvertently  rejected  a  novel  of  yours,  un- 
reiul.  Can't  you  »•«•  that  I  wax  ready  to  to  go  to  any  lengths 
r.ith  i  than  let  you  suppose  that  1  (I  who,  whether  you  believe 
it  or  not,  Miss  LVI>B,  have  always  felt  the  most  fervent  admira- 
tion tor  you.  not  only  as  an  author,  but  as  a  woman)  could  cli-- 
liberutely  offer  you  such  a  slight  ? 

Camilla.  All  1  can  see  is  that  the  consequence  of  your  diplo- 
macy has  been  to  make  a  dupe  of  my  poor  KKZIA. 

Bowater.  I — 1  could  not  foresee  that.  And  if  any  reasonable 
compensation 

Camilla.  What  compensation  will  satisfy  her  now  that  you 
have  turned  her  foolish  head  by  your  praises  ?  Unless  you  either 
tell  her  the  whole  truth — which  surely  would  be  rather  humilia- 
ting for  you — or  else  invent  some  pretext  for  throwing  her  over, 
which  I  hope  you  would  scorn  to  descend  to,  I  really  don't  see 
what  you  can  do  now  except  publish  her  book  for  her. 

Bowater.  But  it 's  bound  to  be  a  failure.  Would  that  be  doing 
her  any  real  service  P 

Camilla.  I  'm  afraid  not.  But  on  the  other  hand,  I  believe  it 
would  almost  brenk  her  heart  if  she  found  out  that  her  story  had 
been  rejected,  and  I  do  ask  you  to  spare  her  that. 

Bowater  (gloomily).  Very  well.  I've  brought  it  on  myself,  I 
suppose.  I — I  'II  publish  her  confounded  story! 

Camilla  (relenting  slightly).  I  knew  you  would.  After  all, 
it  mayn't  be  so  bad,  you  know.  I  'II  go  in  and  send  her  out  to 
you,  and  then  you  can  arrange  about  terms  and  all  that. 

[tint  yoa  nua  the  Aou.v . 

Bowater  (to  himself).  If  I  could  only  put  myself  right  with 
her —  But  that 's  hopeless,  now.  We  shall  never  be  the  same 
again,  neverl  (He  sinks  into  xombiT  m<-ilil,itu,n  ;  a  little  lut-  r, 
NORA  conies  out.)  Miss  VYVIAN  !  did  you  go  to  Fitcham  ?  Haa 
the  manuscript  arrived  '• 

Nora.  Yes,  this  morning.  But  fancy !  That  sly  KEZIA  had 
left  instructions  that  anything  for  "  M .  V  was  to  be  forwarded 
Mere.  You  Me,  she  knew  all  the  letters  would  come  into  If  r 
hands  first. 

Bowater.  Then  she  'It  get  it  this  afternoon,  and  see  I  've  de- 
clined it !  Miss  LYDE  will  never  forgive  me  now ! 

Nora.  No,  no,  it 's  all  right.  Luckily,  the  postmistress  hadn't 
sent  it  off  yet,  and  she  knows  me,  so  1  persuaded  her  that,  as  I 
was  going  back  to  Bunny  Bank,  1  could  take  it  just  as  well.  And 
I  've  just  left  it  with  my  Aunt,  who  wanted  to — to  look  over  it. 
You  don't  mind,  do  you  ? 

Bowater  (with  a  tigh  of  relief).  MindP  No,  my  dear  Miss 
NORA,  *o  long  as  that  girl  hasn't  got  it!  Very  many  thanks. 
It  'B  quite  safe  in  your  Aunt's  hand*.  This  is  the  first  gleam  of 
luck  I  Ve  had  this  afternoon !  (KsziA,  now  divested  of  cap  and 
apron,  comes  out.)  Ah,  here  comes  Miss  STILWELL,  we — we  are 
going  to  discuss  business,  I  believe. 

Nora.  Then  I  '11  leave  you  together.  Don't  make  her  more 
conceited  than  she  is  already. 

Bowater  (grimly).  I  never  felt  less  inclined  to  be  compli- 
mentary in  my  life ! 

[He  riset  to  receive  KEZIA,  who  advances  with  a  self -important  simper 
ai  NORA  departs. 

AUGUSTS  EN  ANGLETERRE. 

Ai-  BEVOIR. 

DEAR  MISTER, — I  am  desolated.  At  cause  of  a  very  pressed 
affair  at  me  in  France  I  am  forced  of  to  part  immediately.  I 
quit  your  country  so  interesting  with  the  most  great  regret. 
But  I  hope  to  return  after  some  time. 

I  write  at  Dover*.  I  am  come  from  Kast  bourn  by  the  railways 
at  the  border  of  the  sea.  What  voyage !  The  train  arrests  him- 
self at  all  the  most  little  stations.  One  changes  of  carriage  two 
tunes,  the  trains  are  in  delay,  one  misses  the  one  that  one  hopes 
to  entrap,  the  carriages  and  the  line  are  one  cannot  more  old 
and  more  bad  ;  one  is  shaken,  one  is  pushed,  one  is  furious.  But 
in  fine  it  is  finished,  and  one  arrives. 

I  am  gone  to  make  a  little  walk  in  the  town.  It  is  not  very 
gay.  At  each  window  one  perceives  a  long  view,  longuf-vuf.  He 
appears  that  the  inhabitants  of  Doyers  serve  themselves  of  the 
long  views  for  to  peep  at  all  the  ships  who  pass,  and  also  for  to 
regard  Calais,  town  as  sad  as  the  their.  That  should  to  be  very 
amusing  I  I  have  seen  the  prison  of  the  forced  ones,  forfats — an 
abandoned  prison,  desert,  the  walls  falling ;  nothing  of  more 
miserable!  I  have  seen  also  the  Cliff  of  SMAKNHIR.  Tims!  I 
knew  not  that  he  possessed  a  ground,  terrain,  at  Dovers.  I  be- 
lieved him  inhabitant  of  Strattordonavn. 


A  SUGGESTION  POB  THE  ZOOLOGICAL  SOCIETY. 


THE  ELEPHANTS  WORK  FOR  THEIB'  LIVING,   WHY  NOT  TH»  mrw 

GIANT  TORTOISE!      THE  EXKKOIBE  MIGHT  .IMPROVE  HIS  BISECTION, 
UID  TO  BE  IMPERFECT. 


At  the  hotel  I  encounter  one  of  my  friends,  Mister  JOHN 
ROBINSON,  who  goes  to  make  a  little  excursion  in  Bavaria  and  in 
Austria,  just  to  Vienna.  I  have  counselled  him  of  to  write  to 
you  his  impressions  of  voyage.  As  soon  as  arrived  at  Nuremberg 
be  will  put  himself  to  the  work.  Permit,  Mister  1'unch,  that  I 
address  to  you  this  mister. 

I  hear  to  whistle  the  packet  boat.  Mister  ROBINSON  parts  for 
Ostende.  Me  I  go  to  Calais  in  one  hour.  Unhappily  the  sea  is 
very  agitated.  Kli  well,  it  is  not  a  long  trayersy.  At  the  hotel 
one  has  spoken  to  me  of  a  French,  arrived  since  eight  days,  who 
has  not  dared  to  traverse  at  cause  of  the  bad  times.  Yesterday 
he  made  very  little  of  wind.  But,  seeing  that,  the  goodman  re- 
solves himself  to  attend  again  one  day,  hoping  to  traverse  the 
sea  calm  as  a  lake.  To-day  she  is  again  very  agitated,  and  he  can 
no  more  attend.  The  poor  man ! 

At  the  moment  of  to  part,  dear  Mister,  I  think  to  the  day 
where  we  shall  see  again  ourselves.  In  attending,  be  willing  to 
agree  the  expression  of  my  best  sentiments  of  friendship.  I 
squeeze  you  the  hand  very  cordially.  Au  revair.  AUGUSTS. 


Song   of  the   Silent  Highway. 

BEAUTY  and  gaiety — must  they  be  banned 

Still  half  a  year  from  our  city's  fine  river  P 
From  the  ghoul  Dulness,  who  so  lords  our  land, 

Who  will  our  town's  noble  tideway  deliver? 
When  sly  old  PEPYS  to  his  business  once  went, 

Oft  'twas  by  ''  fly-boat,  by  barge,  or  by  wherry." 
Won't  modern  London  with  him  be  content 

Who  makes  her  great  river  more  useful — and  merry  P 


"  TO-MORROW  AND  TO-MORROW." — Time  of  the  signature  of 
the  Greco-Turkish  Treaty  of  Peace. 


126 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[SBPTKMBER  18,  1897. 


ToMKINS,  WHO  HAS  RECENTLY  MADE  HI8  APPEARANCE  iff  AXATXUS  AS  THE  MELANCHOLY  DANE,  GOES  TO  HAVE  HIS  PHOTOGRAPH 
TAKEN  "IN  CHARACTER."  UNFORTUNATELY,  ON  REACHING  THE  CORNER  OF  THB  STREET,  HE  FINDS  THS  ROAD  IS  UP,  AND  HE  HAS 
TO  WALK  TO  THE  DOOB  !  TABLEAU  !  ! 


ON  A  COMMON. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH^ — We  were  so  happy 
on  that  Common.  \ou  must  bear  in  mind 
that  it  was  not  an  ordinary  Common.  It 
was  an  Uncommon  Common.  And  so  we 
sat  among  the  heathor  and  the  second  crop 
of  gorse,  admiring  the  tethered  sheep,  and 
the  dog  Pixie,  and  ourselves,  and  wonder- 
ing why  the  world  was  ever  dark  and 
dismal.  It  was  a  revektion,  and  yet  we 
were  not  so  far  removed  from  the  iniquities 
of  the  Metropolis.  There  were,  and  no 
doubt  are  now,  several  hundreds  of  fowls 
on  this  Common.  No  one  appeared  to 
have  the  least  animosity  against  those 
bipeds.  At  all  events,  we  had  not.  We 
extolled  the  condescension  with  which  they 
treated  Pixie,  having  no  fear  of  his  threats, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  appreciating  the 
humour  of  the  situation,  and  knowing  that 
one  hundred  chickens  could  readily  dispose 
of  one  Maltese  Terrier.  But  Pixie  was 
still  to  be  lauded  for  his  courage,  and, 
when  he  was  not  looking  for  imaginary 
rabbits,  he  never  failed  to  be  the  Joy  of 
the  Household,  save  and  excepting  when 
the  members  of  it  were  cleaning  theii 
bicycles,  or  finding  out  whether  the  gar- 
dener or  Dirtman  had  lodged  in  the 
Summer-house  during  the  previous  night. 
A  quaint  and  curious  creature  the  Dirt- 


man, a  kind  of  Pelican  that  would  manage 
to  exist  in  a  Desert  of  Temperance  on  the 
promise  of  an  Oasis  of  Whiskey.  But  I 
imagine  he  survives  on  apples,  when  the 
whiskey  is  wanting. 

Some  of  the  Commoners  made  the 
Neighbouring  Aristocracy  regard  them 
with  an  unfavourable  glance.  They,  the 
Aristocrats,  were  not  accustomed  to  look 
upon  matrons,  men  and  maidens  chewing 
cake  by  the  roadside  and  consuming  tea 
on  the  turf.  It  afflicted  their  fancy,  but 
nevertheless  the  Commoners  were  still 
happy  and  contented.  In  the  evening, 
when  the  Common  was  no  longer  desirable 

g'operty,  they  retired  to  that  hospitable 
ome,  where  every  one  was  welcome,  and 
then  made  merry  with  Japanese  Fans, 
sketches  in  pen  and  pencil,  and  illus- 
trations of  Nursery  Rhymes,  in  which 
the  Engaged  Young  Lady  made  a  most 
acceptable  Spider  when  demonstrating  the 
Legend  of  Miss  Muffet. 

My  object,  Sir,  in  writing  this  letter  is 
to  point  out  how  much  superior  a  Common 
is  to  the  vulgar  sea-shore  or  common  beach 
of  commerce.  On  a  Common  you  can  do 
anything  in  reason.  By  the  sad  sea  waves 
you  are  more  or  less  held  by  the  enemy, 
who  prowls  from  morning  until  nightfall. 
Let  me  strongly  recommend  the  trial  of  a 
Common  to  you  next  year  a*  a  scene 


of  recreation  and  recuperation.  If  you 
chance  on  my  particular  pitch,  you  will 
probably  recognise 

A  CONGENIAL  DONKEY. 

P.S. —  I  don't  give  the  name  of  my 
Common,  nor  that  of  the  nearest  railway 
station,  but  they  are  both  there.  Verb. 
sap.  Commons  are  always  better  than 
piers.  Parliamentary  joke,  registered. 


At   Hoinburg-v.-d.-H. 

Colonel  Twister  (in  the  hotel  smoking- 
room).  Yesl  I  once  played  a  game  of  pool 
at  Senecarabad,  holding  the  cue  in  my 
teeth,  and  captured  all  the  loot ! 

Captain  Longbow.  Pooh  1  That '»  no- 
thing !  About  a  month  ago  I  matched 
myself  at  shell-out  against  FRED  FANDANGO, 
and  clutching  the  cue  between  my  toes, 
walked  in  lying  on  my  back ! 

Colonel  Twister  (taken  unawares).  But 
how  the  deuce  did  you  manage  to  see  the 
table  ? 

Captain  Longbow.  See  the  table  I  Why, 
had  the  cloth  lighted  with  Rontgen  rays, 
of  course  !     Saw  through  the  slate  I 
[The  Colonel    abruptly  says   "Good   night"  to 
the  company,  and  leaves  fur  Schlangeribad 
next  morning. 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON    CHARIVARI.— SKTBMBIH  18,   1897. 


Vd  M  «     st 


" 


BROTHERS  IN  ARMS. 


" 


["  Th«  stanchness  and  devotion  of  the  whole  force,  and  particularly  the  excellent  conduct  of  the  native  officers  when  thrown  on  their  own  resources, 
are  worthy  of  the  highest  praise ;  .  .  .  .  and  the  fact  that  at  the  very  tint  the  men  saw  all  their  BritUh  officer*  ihot  down,  make*  the  stanchness  and 
gallantry  of  the  native  officers,  non -commissioned  officer*,  and  men  even  more  praiseworthy." — London  Oauttt  Intpateht*  quoted  in  ttu  Tima,  Sept.  8.] 


SEPTEMBER  18,  1897.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


129 


fcri£*> 


EXCELLENT   ADVICE. 

Dealer  (to  ZVmmttu,  who  it  trying  a  hwittr).  "  PULL  *M  'Eo  UP,  SIB  1    PULL  '»  'Eo  UP,  AKD  JAM  Tin  SPUBB  in,  OB  '•  'LL  DOWIT  YOU  I ' 


A  SONG  Ol1  DEGREES. 

["  Bogui  Degreei— flow  they  are  got  and  paid  for." 
Daily  Chrontclt.] 

I'M  the  Chancellor,  tb«  Beadle,  and  the 
Doctors 

Who  lecture  on  the  Asinorum  Pont, 
I  'm  the  tutors,  and  the  bull-dogs,  and  the 
Proctors, 

The  porters,  undergraduates  and  dona. 
I'm  the  'Varsity,  and  on  consideration 

Of  modest  and  most  reasonable  fees, 
I  '11  remit  you,  carriage  paid  to  any  station, 

The  very  latest  fashion  in  degrees. 

I  have  hoods — green,  orange,  yellow  and 

vermilion — 
In  which  a  Bishop  would  be   proud  to 

strut, 
I  have  garments  academic  for  the  million, 

All  warranted  a  first-class  Oxford  cut. 
Buy  I    buy!      Who'll    buy   a   Bachelor   of 

Science  P 

Who  '11  buy  an  LL.D.  or  a  B.A.  f 
My  fees  set  competition  at  defiance. 
Buy  1  buy  !     Degrees  are  going  cheap  to- 
day I 

Buy  !  buy !  my  friends,  and  when  you  have 

succeeded 

In  adding  learned  letters  to  your  name, 
Persuade  your  friends  that  really  all  that 's 

needed, 
I*  that  they  should  straightway  go  and 

do  the  same. 
They  send  me,  say,  a  tenner  or  a  twenty, 

I  give  you  a  commission  on  the  fees, 
So,  if  you  get  me  graduates  in  plenty, 
We  '11  all  grow  rich  together — by  degrees. 


LONG  AGO  LEGENDS. 
YB  WIDOWS  ADD  TB  GALLAMTK. 

A  WLUOWB,  fayre  toe  looke  upon  and  mot 
pasiyng  XL — much,  and  who  had  but 
juste  caste  aside  ye  sombre  habUimento* 


of  her  doole  days,  and  was  arrayed  once 
more  in  garmentos  gaye,  was  a  wandering 
in  ye  mede*  with  a  well  dyghte  gallante, 
and  he  was  a  whisperinge  in  toe  ner  eere 
softe.  tendere  wordes ;  atte  which  she 
woulde  CMte  downe  her  eyen  and  amyle. 


And  then  he  downed  on  hys  knee  and  de- 
clared hy»  passion  fore  ye  dame.  "And 
doe  you  indeede  love  me  moche  P  "  sayd 
she,  a  turning  her  head  aside  while  a 
grette  bluahe  mounted  toe  her  browe.  ry- 
vallynge  in  depthe  ye  pyany  floure.  "  Love 
thee  !  cryed  ye  gallante  in  eztacie,  ry- 
singe  and  takynge  her  plumpe  lyttle  bande 
in  hys  ;  "  why,  sweete  JAYNE,"  for  soe 
was  she  named,  "I  swere  I  doe  love  ye 
verrie  grounde  thou  treadeste  on  1  "  Atte 
thys  she  dyd  falle  on  toe  ye  cheste  of  her 
leman  with  ye  wordes,  "  I  am  thyne  !  " 
And  then  he  dyd  kyss  her  swetlie  and 
moche. 

Now  it  chanced  that  ye  grounde  on 
which  ye  fayre  widowe  waa  a  treadynge 
was  vast  in  extente  :  in  partes  well  aowne 
with  corne  and  in  partes  of  riche  fatte 
pasture  ;  there  alsoe  rose  proudlie  on  it  a 
statlie  mansyone,  alle  01  whiche  was. 
undere  ye  wille  of  her  late  lamented 
spouse,  hers  in  her  owne  righte.  But 
thys  by  ye  waye. 

On  the   Brighton  Road. 

Cyclist  (to  owner  of  dog  over  which  he 
has  nearly  ridden).  Take  your  beast  out  of 
my  way  I  What  right  has  he  here  P 

Owner.  Well,  he  pays  seven  and  six- 
pence a  year  for  the  privilege  of  peram- 
bulation, and  you  pay  nothing! 


..  PHRASB  FOB  TRAVELLERS  IN 
FRANCE.  —  How  to  establish  friendly  rela- 
tions between  Englishman  and  Frenchman. 
Say  "  Que  now  nous  humectont  1  "  i.e., 
"Let  us  have  a  drink." 


130 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[SEPTEMBER  ,8,  1897. 


1 1  SAY,   BILL,  'ERB  COMBS  TWO  CHAMPION  DONEES  !    LET  'a  KID  'EM  AT  WB  'us 

HOFFICEES  !  " 


DEFIANCE,  NOT  DEFENCE. 

(An  Imaginary  Account  of  an  Impossible 
Volunteer  Corps.) 

"Ton,"  shouted  the  front  rank  of  A 
company,  "what  on  earth  is  the  good  of 
keeping  us  at  attention  ?  " 

"Shut  up  I"  replied  the  C.  O.  "We 
shall  have  the  Inspecting  Officer  here  di- 
rectly, and  a  nice  mess  you  would  be  in  if 
I  allowed  you  to  stand  easy." 

"ToM,"  yelled  the  rear  rank  of  A  com- 
pany, "  you  are  an  idiot  I " 

The  supernumeraries  took  up  "hear, 
hear,"  and  passed  it  down  from  right  to 
left  with  marvellous  unanimity. 

"Well,  old  chap,  how  do  they  look?" 

The  question  was  addressed  to  the  adju- 
tant, who  had  been  making  up  the  field 
state. 

"  C  company  have  come  out  in  dressing- 
gowna  instead  of  overcoats,  Sir,  and  the 
sergeants  of  F,  as  usual,  appear  in 
tlippers." 

The  C.  O.  smiled,  and  murmured,  "  They 
always  were  a  rim  lot."  Then  he  asked  if 
all  the  officers  were  present. 


"  Many  of  them,  Sir,"  responded  the  ad- 
jutant, referring  to  the  field  state.  "Of 
course,  where  the  senior  captains  can't  get 
away  from  their  business,  their  duties  are 
taken  over  by  their  subalterns." 

"  But  I  say,  why  haven't  the  men  of  that 
rear  company  their  rifles  ?  " 

"  They  are  in  the  charge  of  their  captain, 
who  keeps  them  at  his  establishment.  But 
both  ranks  have  paraded  with  the  tickets.1' 

There  was  a  loud  explosion. 

"What's  that?" 

"Oh I  nothing,  Sir,"  replied  the  adju- 
tant. "  Only  the  sergeants  firing  at  one 
another  with  blank  ammunition.  They  are 
always  up  to  some  nonsense  or  other." 

At  thil  moment  the  Inspecting  Officer 
rode  up.  The  entire  battalion  offered  to 
hold  his  horse  for  him — of  course,  for  a 
suitable  consideration. 

"  Now,  Sir,  move  them  about,"  said  the 
new-comer. 

"Blessed  if  I  know  hew — and  if  I  did, 
what  would  be  the  good  ?  They  know  how 
to  move  about  without  any  telling  from 
me." 

"  Then  give  a  word  of  command,  Sir." 


"Ask  me  another!    I  don't  know  any." 

"  On  my  word,  Sir,"  said  the  Inspecting 
Officer,  after  a  pause.  "  I  think  the  best 
thing  to  do  with  your  precious  regiment  is 
to  amalgamate  it  with  another." 

"Come,  that  is  a  good  joke!"  cried  the 
C.  O.,  with  a  roar  of  laughter.  "  Why, 
there  isn't  a  corps  in  the  kingdom  that 
would  have  anything  to  do  with  us  1  Isn't 
it  so,  old  chap  ?  " 

The  adjutant,  with  difficulty  suppressing 
a  smile,  confirmed  the  statement  of  his 
superior. 

b  Hallo  !  "  shouted  the  Inspecting  Officer. 
"  What  are  they  after  now  ?  " 

"  We  are  all  going  home,"  returned  one 
of  the  band.  "  We  have  had  enough  sol- 
diering for  to-day,  and  as  it's  dry  work, 
we  are  off  for  a  drink.  The  canteen  is 
being  run  by  BILLY." 

"  And  who  is  BILLY  ? "  inquired  the 
regular. 

"One  of  the  officers,"  was  the  prompt 
reply  of  the  adjutant. 

"  Well,  Sir,"  said  the  Insppcting  Officer, 
when  he  was  alone  with  the  C.  O.,  "I  can 
scarcely  congratulate  you  upon  your  com- 
mand. Will  you  be  so  good  as  to  give  me 
the  title  of  the  corps  ?  " 

''Wild  horses  shall  not  drag  the  secret 
from  me,"  returned  the  inspected,  firmly. 

And  the  Inspecting  Officer  thought  it 
better  to  be  satisfied  with  the  answer,  as 
there  was  no  one  to  bother  about  it  in 
Parliament  till  after  the  recess. 


THE  AEMY  MANCEUVfiES. 
(By  a  Puzzled  Private.) 

GIN  a  body  meet  a  body 

Comin'  through  the  rye, 
Gin  a  body  meet  a  body 

Need  a  body  fly  ? 
Ilka  laddie  is  a  regiment, 

Ane,  they  say,  am  I ; 
Yet  a'  the  lads  they  tell  me  I  'm 

A  prisoner  in  the  rye. 

Gin  a  body  meet  a  body 

Comin'  owre  the  lea, 
Gin  a  body  meet  a  body, 

Ne«d  a  body  dee  ? 
Ilka  laddie  bangs  his  rifle, 

Sae  the  same  dae  I, 
Yet  a'  the  lads  they  tell  me  I  'm 

A  deid  man  in  the  rye. 

Gin  a  body  meet  a  body, 

Baith  as  deid  's  a  rat, 
Gin  a  body  greet  a  body 

Whaur  's  the  hairm  o'  that  ? 
Ilka  laddie  has  his  whusky, 

Mine  is  guid  an'  strang — 
We  '11  tak'  a  richt  guid  williewaucht, 

An'  let  the  lave  gae  hang. 


Valour  indeed ! 

Mrs.  Mvddlebrayne  (to  friend,  while  in- 
ipecting  Captain  WHITAKER'S  magnificent 
Collection  of  Medals) .  Law !  Bless  me ! 
'Ow  'e  must  'ave  fought  to  'ave  all  them 
decorations!  And  my  pore  'usband  wot 
served  in  the  Guard*  only  'ad  one  1 


TREASURE  TROVE. — The  real  grit  of  the 
Shamrock  found  by  the  Duchess  of  YORK 
in  Ireland. 

THE  CLOCKS  WHICH  NEVER  oo. — Those 
connected  with  the  feet,  not  the  hands. 


SRPTEMBIR  18,  1H97.J  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


131 


PROS  AND  CONS. 

(By  aSptttatorr  and  Lorer  of  Manly  Sport,  Muting 
it  over  at  the  en  i  of  the  Cricket  Sraxm. ) 

ON  the  field,  or  in  the  court, 

Some  enthusiasts  agree 
Pros,  (fire  in  the  proee  of  sport, 

A  mat  «urs  its  poetry. 

He  who  hunts  a  ball  for  gain, 

He  who  hits  a  ball  for  perks, 
Is  not  of  Olympic  strain  ; 

Mere  "  gate    -grubbing  always  irks. 
Verily,  "  the  play  's  the  thing  "  ; 

But  our  games  were  followed  sparsely 
If  the  sole  reward  they  bring 

Were  the  classic  crown  of  parsley. 

"Gentlemen  "  are  not  all  rich, 

"  Pros."  are  often  gentlemen ; 
And  deciding  which  is  which 

Taxes  sometimes  tongue  or  pen. 
Truly  all  play  and  no  work 

Needs  a  fortune  in  the  player. 
Many  a  sportsman  's  bound  to  shirk 

That,  though  at  his  game  a  stayer. 
Surely  there  is  room  for  all ; 

Lines  inn  "hard-and-fast     embitter. 
Many  a  wonder  with  the  ball, 

Many  a  bright  and  brilliant  hitter, 
Many  a  "  sportsman  "  heart  and  soul, 

^With  no  purse  of  Fortunatn*. 
Would  be  kept  from  glory's  goal 

By  harsh  strictness  as  to  status. 
Whose  the  loss  ?     The  public's,  surely, 

_And  the  game's.     You  may  be  bound, 
Give  and  take,  in  tramps  played  purely, 

Must  be  good  for  sport  all  round. 


, 


REMARKABLE    OPTICAL    ILLUSION  ! 

WEBB  THEY  REALLY  iforoM-tnw  (SMOOTHLY  PROPELLED  ALONG  THE  SURFACE  BY  AH 
rvHFEN  FORCE)  THAT  OUR  FoOR  OLD  FRIEND  SUDDENLY  ENCOUNTERED  IN  THE  BTREEFS  OF 
LONDON,  OR  WERE  THEY  MERELY  TWO  BRITISH  WORKMEN  EMPLOYED  IN  DIGGING  DOWN  INTO 
THE  ROADWAY  TAKING  FIVE  MINUTES'  REST  I*  SITV  t 


"DOWN  SOUTH." 

ntj>Tile  r'ra"?<"M-  Jfelier1!.— Why  are  so  many  modern  hotels 
called  "  Grand  "  The  epithet  conveys  no  idea  of  comfort :  quite 
the  contrary.  Now  "comfort,"  which  word  may  be  taken  aa 
•xliiitutively  expressive,  is  the  one  thing  needful  to  the  traveller. 
Many  monarchs  have  been  styled  "  Grand,"  but  not  one  has  been 
surnamed  "The  Comfortable."  How  well  it  would  sound, 
"WILLIAM  the  Comfortable!"  A  Grand  Hotel  may  be  and 
probably  will  be  as  comfortable  as  the  very  snuggest  of  hostelries, 
but  the  name  is  against  it  to  begin  with. 

At  St.  Helier's  you  are  agreeably  disappointed  to  find  that 
there  is,  at  all  events,  nothing  grand  about  the  exterior  of  this 
pretty  chalet-like  hotel.  Immediately  on  arriving  you  feel  your- 
self at  home,  and  the  traveller  failing  to  experience  this 
pleasant  sensation  will  soon  be  put  at  his  ease  by  the  beaming 
manager,  who.  as  "  a  host  in  himself,"  welcomes  you  with  an  air 
of  British  cordiality,  tempered  by  the  French  polish  of  la  politesse 
de  Louis  QUINZB.  Straightway  he  busies  himself  with  your 
comfort,  as  though  the  hotel,  "with  all  its  appliances  and  means 
to  boot,"  had  been  placed  on  its  present  footing,  solely  and  only 
for  your  sole  personal  us»  and  gratification. 

M.  Louis  QUINZE  is  so  delighted  to  see  you.  It  is  as  though  you 
had  been  so  long  expected,  and  had  arrived  at  last !  What  can  he 
do  for  you  in  some  special  way  to  prove  his  personal  devotion  ? 
.  I  /•  ,-t  of  sinrerity  :  ask  him  to  change  a  cheque. 

What  greater  test  cf  the  confidence,  begot  in  the  heart  of  a 
responsible  man  simply  by  your  appearance,  can  there  be  than 
this?  He  has  never  seen  you  before  in  all  his  life,  and  (the 
cheque  being  changed)  may  never  see  you  again.  He  has  no 
means  of  identifying  you  with  the  name  you  nave  given.  It  is 
late  in  the  evening,  and,  the  money  once  in  the  guest's  pocket, 
the  guest  may  wander  put  to  amuse  himself  in  the  town,  and  may 
never  return.  But  his  luggage?  It  may  be  somebody  else's, 
and  not  belonging  to  him  at  all.  Or  it  may  be  an  old  worn-out 
portmanteau,  which,  with  its  contents,  would  not  fetch  the 
price  of  a  luncheon. 

Do  these  considerations  occur  to  the  mind  of  M.  Lours  QUINZE  ?  ' 
If  they  do,  his  countenance  is  still  unclouded,  not  a  shadow  of 
suspicion  casts  even  a  momentary  gloom  over  his  mobile  features. 
On  the  contrary,  he  is  charmed  by  your  request.  Cheque! 
Why,  a  hundred  cr-eques  if  you  like  !  Any  amount !  A  thousand 
pounds!  You  honour  him  by  constituting  him  temporarily  your 
banker!  You  shall  have  it  whenever  you  require  it.  But  surely  ' 


you  and  your  friends  will  first  dine?  Certainly  we  will.  Dinner 
first,  cheque  afterwards. 

"Pat  ilu  tout!"  says  M.  Lons  QUINZE,  in  his  pleasantest 
manner,  speaking  French,  which  comes  as  naturally  to  him  as 
English,  for,  presumably,  he  is  a  Jerseyman,  and  master  of  even 
more  languages  than  his  two  native  ones.  "It  is  natural! 
Chez  noun,  vous  n'etes  pas  Stranger!  Jamais  de  la  vie!  Mais — 
comment !  will  you  not  go  to  dine  ?  Is  not  the  dinner  commanded 
for  the  three  gentlemen  ?  Parfaitement !  a  hvit  hearts  et  demief  " 
We  announce  our  intention  of  being  ready  to  avail  ourselves  of 
the  quiet  corner  reserved  for  us  in  the  salle  a  manger,  within 
fifteen  minutes. 

And  an  excellent  dinner  it  is  too,  with  grouse,  and  with  first- 
rat*  wines  at  fairly  reasonable  prices.  Even  Quick-Sandboy  is 
fain  to  admit  this,  and  having  no  fault  to  find  with  the  food, 
confines  himself  to  the  gloomiest  meteorological  prognostications. 

For  a  few  minutes  we  peer  out  into  the  unpromising  night ; 
then  the  two  Cheery  Ones  retire,  hoping  for  the  best,  while  the 
Quick-Sandboy  shakes  his  head  despondently,  and,  with  a  melan- 
choly "  Good  night,"  goes  moodily  to  bed. 

Up  with  the  lark.  But,  if  the  Jersey  lark  is  not  pressed 
for  time,  he  will  not  think  of  "  rising  to  the  occasion "  in 
such  wretched  weather.  A  deluge!  Rain  giving  the  island  a 
thorough  good  bucketing.  Roads  steaming.  At  breakfast, 
Sandboys  Numbers  One  and  Two  sustain  a  Mark  Taftey-)riad  of 
jollity,  while  Number  Three  grumbles.  Excellent  trio.  Merry 
movement  of  first  and  second  violins,  and  slow  growl  on  vio- 
loncello. 

In  midst  of  tempest  we  stand  under  verandah,  to  see  travel- 
lers bound  for  France  and  England  starting  in  omnibuses  and 
flys.  M.  LOUIB  QUINZE  is  there,  directing  movements  of  boots, 
porters,  conductors,  and  drivers,  while  cheerily  speeding  the  de- 
parting guests.  "En  voiture!  he  cries,  as  he  dashes  out, 
regardless  of  rain!  "En  voitvre!  Good-bye!  Ait  rtvoir!" 
He  rushes  up  to  a  carriage  to  shake  hands  warmly  with  muffled 
figures  inside.  "Bon  voyage!  'Bon  voyage!  Monsifur  et 
Madame!"  Here,  with  the  utmost  urbanity,  he  raises  his  hat, 
and  the  rain  comes  down  on  his  exposed  cranium  sharp  as  the 
shower  of  a  bath  when  the  string  has  been  suddenly  pulled. 
"  Bon  voyage  !  "  he  cries,  regardless  of  the  do\*the.  "  Attez  !  "  he 
says  to  the  driver,  "  A llf-,  Cocker!  Trry!  'Urryl  Alli~!" 
Then,  in  a  tone  of  determined  command,  gallantly  waving  his 
hand,  he  shouts,  "  En  rout"!"  This  is  repeated  in  the  case  of 
every  single  carriage  ;  but  when  it  comes  to  bidding  farewell  to  a 


132 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[SEPTEMBER  18.  1897. 


KINDLY    MEANT. 

"Miss  MAYFAIR,  DO  you  OBJECT  TO  PADDLING!" 

"No,  CHARLIK,  NOT  AT  ALL." 

"WELL,  THEN,  IF  YOU'D  LIKE  TO,  DON'T  MIND  MB." 


dozen  people  or  more,  crowded  into  a  'bus,  then,  always  hat  in 
hand,  he  includes  them  all  individually  and  collectively  in  one 
grand  movement  of  both  arms,  shouting  always  with  the  utmost 
politeness,  "Bon  voyage!  Messieurs  et  Mesdames!  Au  revoir! 
Finally,  in  an  authoritative  tone  to  the  driver,  "Allez,  Cocker! 
'Urry  I  'Urry !  En  route ! ! ! " 

The  last  coach-load  is  gone,  and  the  enthusiastic  host  collapses. 
He  mops  his  brow,  resumes  his  hat,  and  then,  for  the  first  time, 
apparently,  becoming  aware  of  the  fact  that  the  pelting  rain 
for  the  last  twenty  minutes  has  not  been  without  its  damping 
effect  on  his  coat,  he  says  cheerily  to  himself  and  to  us,  "Mauvai> 
temps,  n'est  ce  pas?  "  and  disappears  into  the  house. 

Sandboy  Number  One,  who  has  been  making  himself  acquainted 
with  the  traditions  of  the  island,  maintains  that  our  manager  did 
not  say  "  'Urry  I  'Urry !  "  but  that  he  had  raised  the  old  Jersey 
cry  of  "  Haro  !  Haro  !  "  By  referring  him  to  this  tradition,  as  given 
in  BLACK'S  useful  Jersey  Guide-Book,  it  is  demonstrated  to  him 
that  the  "  Clameur  de  Haro  "  is  only  raised  in  cases  of  trespass  01 
distraint,  when  the  full  cry  is  "  Haro !  Haro !  Haro !  a  I'aide, 
man  Prince,  on  me  fait  tort !  "  and,  after  that,  the  case  is  formally 
brought  before  three  jurats  on  the  bench  with  the  bailiff. 

Query. — In  Jersey,  chould  a  traveller  be  unable  to  pay  his  bill. 
may  he  shout  "Haro!  Haro!"  &c.,  and  be  off  by  next  boat? 
Quick-Sandboy  thinks  it  quite  possible,  and  we  recommend  him 
to  remain  in  the  island,  and,  after  we  have  left,  try  it. 

Off  to  Eastern  Station.  To  Pontac.  Stop  to  visit  a  church. 
Directed,  in  French,  by  peasants,  we  walk  a  mile  to  obtain  the 
keys.  Not  much  to  see  when  we  Ve  got  'em.  "  'Urry !  'Urry  I  " 
We  can't  retrace  a  mile's-worth  of  steps  to  deliver  up  keys. 

Happy  Thought. — Knock  at  door  of  nearest  house.  Lady  ap- 
pears. Certainly,  with  pleasure,  she  will  take  care  of  the  keys. 
Of  course  they  will  be  called  for.  We  reply,  "  Of  course," 
which  is  a  natural  supposition,  seeing  that  Sunday  is  close  at 
hand,  and  that,  if  the  clergyman  is  not  then  in  possession 
of  the  keys,  there  will  be  no  service.  Vain  will  it  be  for  him  to 
cry  "  Haro  !  Haro  !  "  So  yielding  up  the  keys  of  the  situation  to 
;he  kindly  matron,  we  rush  for  the  train.  Note. — Everywhere 
along  the  roads  and  in  the  fields  might  be  written  up,  "  Id  on 


park  Franfais."     Also,  politeness  is  the  special  characteristic  of 
the  Jersey  islander;  so  far,  at  least. 

In  St.  Helier's  it  is  the  same  thing  ;  everywhere  English-French. 
Quite  a  friendly  alliance.  The  Jeweller  describes  himself,  over 
Lis  shop,  as  "Jeweller — Bijoutier."  "Butcher"  is  likewise 
"  Boucher,"  "  Shoemaker— Cordonnier,"  and  so  forth.  You  can 
deal  with  all  the  Jersey  tradesmen  in  either  French  or  English  ; 
it  is  an  example  of  "\\hichever  language  you  like,  my  little 
dear  ;  so  long  as  you  pay  your  money,  you  can  take  your  choice." 
Quick-Sandboy  regrets  that  he  was  not  a  Jerseyman.'and  brought 
up  from  his  earliest  infancy  to  speak  two  languages  with  equal 
facility.  Alas,  it  is  too  late  now!  We  propose  leaving  him  in 
the  island,  where  he  can  become  naturalised.  Offer  rejected. 

Waiting  for  train.  Visit  to  hotel  at  Pontac.  Excellent 
concert-hall  with  glass-roofed  verandah ;  little  tables  laid  out 
French  fashion  for  dining  al  fresco.  Everything  here  intended 
for  fine  weather  enjoyment.  Luxuriant  garden,  with  pumpkins, 
marrows,  damp  chickens,  draggle-tailed  pea-hens,  moping  white 
turkeys,  and  index-fingers  directing  visitors  to-  all  sorts  of  in- 
visible amusements,  including  an  Echo,  which  is  kept  tame  on 
the  premises.  From  a  business  point  of  view  this  is  clearly  the 
way  to  make  an  Echo  answer.  A  trifle  tea-gardenified ;  but 
must  be  most  attractive— when  the  sun  is  shining.  "  En  route  ! 
'Urry !  'Urry ! "  for  station  once  more.  Passing  along  by  the 
sea-wall  (it  is  still  pouring),  we  see  ladies  and  gentlemen,  evi- 
dently a  French  family  party,  judging  by  their  costumes,  bathing 
merrilv  together,  and  dancing  a  sort  of  merry-go-round  in  the 
sea.  The  master  of  these  marine  revels  is  a  stout  man  in  bathing- 
costume  and  a  tall  hat — the  ordinary  "  topper  "  of  civilisation — 
who  is  enjoying  himself  immensely  and  encouraging  the  others 
to  do  the  same. 

By  train  to  Goree,  passing  golf-links  (impossible  to  get  away 
from  golf-links,  lawn-tennis,  bicycles,  and  even  croquet  this 
summer),  the  Butts,  and  La  Rocque.  Charmingly  picturesque, 
svery  step  of  it.  Then  we  ascend  to  Mount  Orgucil  Castle. 
Here  we  bring  joy  and  gladness  to  the  heart  of  the  warder,  who 
liad  begun  to  despair  of  any  sixpences  from  visitors  in  this  drown- 
ing weather,  which  is  enough  to  damp  the  ardour  of  the  keenest 
tripper.  But  our  advent  is  the  harbinger  of  luck  :  others  arrive  ; 
as  we  proceed,  half-a-dozen  moist  sight-seers  suddenly  and  mys- 
teriously crop  up  from  somewhere,  apparently  out  of  various 
dark  dungeons  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Powder  Magazine. 
We  follow  the  warder,  who  is  now  our  guardian  and  guide.  The 
beauty  of  the  views  from  the  summit  of  the  tower  is  left  to  our 
imagination  in  this  hazy  weather.  We  are  pelted  off  the  roof  by 
hail-stones. 

"  Lucky  we  're  under  cover,"  quoth  Sandboy  Number  Two, 
cheerily  congratulating  ourselves,  as  we  descend  the  stair-case. 

"Luckier  if  we'd  stayed  in  the  hotel,"  growls  Quick-Sandboy. 

Wre  descend.  Ere  the  warder  bids  us  adieu,  he  summons  us, 
his  temporary  companions,  about  him,  and  in  a  rough,  honest, 
pleasant  way,  informs  us  that  "  by  the  rules  he  is  not  allowed  to 
make  any  charge,"  thus  delicately  intimating  that  if  our  gratitude 
for  his  services  should  happen  to  take  the  practical  form  of  six- 
pence a  head  (he  avoids  particularising  any  sum  as  clearly  in- 
consistent with  his  dignity),  he  personally  would  have  no  objec- 
tion to  placing  the  sum  total  to  his  own  credit  at  his  bankers. 
The  warder  and  his  re-warders.  So  having  bestowed  largesse, 
we  descend  the  worn  stone  steps,  every  one  of  which  contains  a 
small  foot-bath  of  rain-water,  then  warily  through  mud-slush, 
and  so  we  gain  the  road  and  arrive  at  the  little  British  Hotel. 

WHAT  THE  SOUTH  SEA  WAVES  ARE  SAYING. 

THE  season  here  never  begins  or  ends.  From  year's  end  to 
year's  end  it  ripples  on  like  the  late  Poet  Laureate's  "  Brook." 
Men  may  come  and  men  may  go,  but  Southsea  goes  on  for  ever. 
There  is  always  plenty  of  "  go  "  in  Southsea.  On  the  Clarence 
Pier  there  is  a  constant  sequence  of  melody  interspersed  with 
the  whistling  of  steamboats,  while  the  white  wings  of  the  yachts 
in  the  offing  are  reflected  by  the  smart  but  pure  costumes  of  the 
nadies,  who  walk  the  plank  without  danger  from  morning  till  after 
nightfall.  Nowhere  can  dogowners  find  such  a  fine  recreation 
ground  for  their  canine  favourites  as  on  the  far-famed  Common, 
when  not  occupied  by  the  brave  defenders  of  our  country.  Many 
French  visitors  look  upon  the  Victory  in  Portsmouth  Harbour 
as  a  proof  of  the  valour  of  their  countrymen,  because  NELSON  was 
lilled  on  board  of  this  famous  vessel.  Two  of  the  coal-hulks  ad- 
jacent to  the  Victory  were  borrowed  from  the  Gaul,  and  never 
•eturned.  The  Hard,  but  for  the  "Nut,"  would  be  desolate  of 
seafaring  reminiscences,  inasmuch  as  H.R.H.  the  Prince  of 
WALES  acquired  that  famous  Nelson  Vase  from  the  philanthropist, 
who  doesn't  like  too  many  public-houses.  The  Mayor  is  still 
weak  from  a  recent  attack  of  Burnheart — but  expects  to  recover. 


SEPTEMBER  25,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


133 


"IN    DEUTSCHLAND    GEMACHT." 

(A  Forecast.) 

["FOXES  MADE  IN  GBKMANY."— Considerable  indignation  is  being  aroused  in  the  hunting  districts 
of  the  Midland  counties,  especially  among  agriculturist*,  in  consequence  of  the  importation  of  foxes  bred 
in  Germany.  In  Bedfordshire,  for  instance,  owing  to  the  ccurcity  of  cubs,  and  in  order  that  sport  may 
be  assured  during  the  coming  season,  a  large  number  of  young  foxes  hare  been  brought  over  and  libe- 
rated in  various  parU  of  the  county.  Farmers  are  loud  in  their  protestations  against  the  practice,  and 
allege  that  they  are  sustaining  frequent  and  heavy  losses  by  Reynard's  nightly  visits  to  their  homesteads. 
The  German  fox  is  described  as  being  even  more  vicious  thin  his  English  namesake. 

Daily  Ttlegraph,  August  30.] 


A  DIAKY  OF  A  DINNER. 

Het  Sloowe-Kootsch  Hotel, 
Amsterdam. 

Sn'trmber  ?,  1897. 

DEAII  MR.  PUNCH, — As  we  are  in  despair 
of  getting  anything  to  eat  this  evening, 
and  want  to  get  out  to  the  "St.nl-- 
schouwburg "  Theatre,  or  the  "  Panopti- 
cnin,"  or  somewhere.  I  venture  to  forward 
von  tlic  annexed  distressing  document,  in 
ease  vim  ean  use  your  world-wide  influence 
with  our  Head  Waiter,  and  induce  him  to 
hurry  up  a  bit.  Our  experiences  are  only 
too  typical  of  many  continental  dinners. 
I  copy  the  notes  on  my  menu,  and  hope 
they  speak  for  themselves,  and  for  yeurs 
in  high  dudgeon,  Z.Y.X. 

6  P.M.— The  bell  rings  for  table  d'hote 
punctually.  We,  as  punctually,  troop  into 
a  fine  saloon.  Forty-three  in  number,  we 
include  French  artists  with  black  neckties 
as  big  as  sashes,  German  students  with 
raucous  voices  that  never  stop,  a  stray 


American  or  two,  some  nondescript  Britons, 
and  the  rest  "  various,"  in  game-book  lan- 
guage. We  sit  down. 

6.10. — Enter  three  and  a  half  waiters-^- 
the  fraction  being  a  very  small  boy  with  a 
large  head  and  a  swallow-tail  coat  down  to 
his  heels.  We  decide  to  call  them  FRITZ, 
CARLO,  HENRIK,  and  JAN,  in  accordance 
with  their  evidently  mixed  nationalities. 
The  Head  Waiter  only  looks  on. 

6.21. —  FRITZ  arrives  with  the  Putagr 
puree  Cmut'ins  (I  quote  textually  from 
the  menu). 

6.22.- — We  have  finished  the  votage.  1 
eat  a  piece  of  bread.  Nothing  else  occurs 
till 

6.29. — Whan  CARLO  clears  away  our  soup- 
plates.  We  regard  him  gratefully,  and 
consult  the  menu. 

6.33. —  HENRIK  strolls  round  casually 
with  a  couple  of  cold  plates,  which 

6.35. — FRITZ  removes  again,  substituting 
warm  ones.  Faute  de  mieux,  we  reconsult 
the  menu. 


6.40. — CARLO  presents  me  with  a  fork. 
.a lily  on  loan.  I  thank  him,  and 
enter  the  fact  on  the  menu. 

6.42.— JAN  turns  up  with  Filets  de  Solet 
Jninville  pommts  nat,  which  are  speedily 
disposed  of.  Wo  begin  to  inspect  our 
w. itches  not  unostentatiously. 

6.51. — Clean  plates,  and  a  In-h  flicker  ot 
hope,  alas!  ill-founded.  \Ve  now  know  the 
bill  of  fare  by  heart,  and  have  partially 
lost  our  tempers.  The  illustration  of  a 
Benedictine  monastery  on  the  card  IM  •  by 
this  time  ceased  to  interest  us. 

6.65. — CARLO  comes  within  three  tables 
of  ours,  and  retires. 

6.56. — JAN  picks  up  a  napkin  on  the 
table  and  puts  it  down  again,  in  the  aim- 
less manner  of  an  "  Auguste  "  at  the  circus. 

7.0. — We  work  a  rulo-of-thrce  sum  to  the 
effect  that,  if  two  courses  take  one  hour, 
tha  whole  dinner  of  seven  will  require 
three  hours  and  a  half.  This  looks  pro- 
mising. We  intimate  as  much  to  HENRIK, 
who  totally  fails  to  understand  Anglo- 
Saxon  sarcasm. 

7.2. —  Joy  1  JAN  appear*  with  Gigot 
d'Ecosse  a  la  J)ubarry.  Come,  we  are 
getting  on  I  We  shall  have  a  meat  break- 
fast, anyhow. 

7.10. — Plates  changed.  The  waiters  eye 
my  notes  suspiciously,  especially  as  I  am 
entered  as  a  "  journalist "  in  the  hotel- 
book.  Result  is  that 

7.14. — HENRIK  hands  me  a  fresh  knife, 
as  a  sort  of  peace-offering.  I  go  through 
pantomime  of  starving  man.  CARLO  has 
a  fit  behind  a  screen. 

7.21. —  Plates  removed  inexplicably. 
Query,  is  the  dinner  thus  long  drawn  out, 
to  impress  us  with  the  importance  of  the 
hotel,  the  antiquity  of  Amsterdam,  the 
general  stability  of  the  Dutch  character, 
or  what? 

7.35. — We  revolve  plans  of  arson, 
larceny,  letters  to  the  Times,  and 
landlordcide. 

7.47. — Paupiettes  de  reav  aux  petits 
pot's.  Further  comments  are  needless. 

7.59. — CARLO  looks  in  upon  us,  and 
explains  that  the  next  course  is  on  the 
way. 

8.10. — We  give  it  up.  and  leave  the 
room,  shaking  the  bread-crumbs  off  our 
laps  at  the  rest  of  the  table  d'hote. 


HONOUE  TO  HINDOSTAN! 
SKITEMBKR,  1897. 

WHEREVER  there  floats  the  Empire  Flag 

Let  the  story  be  told  and  told 
Of  the  courage  of  men,  who  made  no  brag, 

But  died  in  their  frontier-hold ! 
Died  for  a  Queen  they  had  never  seen, 

For  an  Empress  who  reigned  afar  ; 
Died  for  the  glory  of  what  had  been, 

And  the  honour  of  India's  Star ! 
Put  down  their  lives  for  the  common  weal 

That  makes  all  our  Empire  One, 
And  gives  us  the  silent  pride  we  feel 

When  we  speak  of  the  unset  sun. 
Wherever  there  floats  the  Empire  Flag, 

On  continent,  island,  or  sea, 
Let  the  story  be  told  of  the  frontier-hold 

That  was  kept,  and  ever  will  be, 
By   the  men — what   matter  if   brown   or 

black  ?— 

Who  could  die  for  the  rag  called  the  Union 
Jack! 


FROM  OUR  IRREPRESSIBLB  ONB  (xtill 
lurking  amid  shadow).  —  Q.  Why  is  the 
eighth  kitten  of  a  cat  like  a  sea  horror P 
A.  Because  she 's  an  octo-puss. 


VOL.    CXIII. 


134  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  25,  1897. 


THE    RETURN    OF    THE    WANDERER. 

Custom  House  Officer  (to  mffercr).  "Now,  SIR,  WILL  YOU  KINDLY  PICK  OUT  YOUK  LUGGAGE  ?    IT'S  GOT  TO  BE  EXAMINED 

BEFOKE  YOU   LAND." 


SEPTEMBER  25,  1897.]  PUNCH,     OR     THE     LONDON     CHARIVARI. 


135 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Swain  discourses  on  an  Autumnal  Rote. 

THE  waning  of  the  year  has  come. 

(Did  you  deceive,  or  I  believer) 
And  yet  we  are  no  nearer  home. 

(Did  you  deceive,  or  I  believe?) 
Tliis  rose,  which  suroly  must  be  last, 
Unites  tli<-  1'ivsent    with  the  Past, 
Ami  still  our  sky  is  overcast  ! 

(Did  you  deceive,  or  I  believe  ?) 

This  rose,  akin  to  one  in  June, 
(Did  you  deceive,  or  I  believe?) 

When   Kros  snug  another  tune! 
(Did  you  deceive,  or  I  believe  ?) 

I  pluck  these  autumn  petals  frail, 

That   could   withstand   the   last  night's 
gale, 

And  plucking  them — again  that  wail  I 
(Did  you  deceive,  or  I  believe  ?) 

Poor  little  rose !    I  love  you  well, 
(Did  you  deceive,  or  I  believe  ?) 

Your  sympathy  has  roused  the  spell, 
(Did  you  deceive,  or  I  believe?) 

Faint  is  the  fragrance  of  your  scent, 

An  aftermath  of  bloom  storm-rent ; 

You  are  not  broken,  only  bent  I 
(Did  you  deceive,  or  I  believe?) 

I  am  not  broken,  only  bent! 

(Did  you  deceive,  or  I  believe  ?) 
This  I-OM>  has  taught  me  love  was  lent, 

(Did  you  deceive,  or  I  believe?) 
It  tells  of  days  of  joy  and  pain, 
Of  sunshine  time  and  time  of  rain, 
Of  castles  built,  may  be  in  Spain! 

(Did  you  deceive,  or  I  believe  ?) 

This  autumn  rose  is  more  than  sweet 
(Did  you  deceive,  or  I  believe  ?) 

In  cool  September's  doubtful  heat, 
(Did  you  deceive,  or  I  believe?) 

Old  memories  come,  old  thoughts  arise! 

Old  treasures  of  the  heart  I  prize  1 

If  only  1  could  see  your  eyes  1 
Did  you  deceive?    I  still  believe! 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

MR.  CHRISTIE  MURRAY  undertakes  a 
delicate  and  difficult  task  in  the  appraise- 
ment of  fellow-craftsmen  in  the  art  of 
fiction.  That  he  brings  to  it  a  cheerful 
assurance  is  testified  by  the  title.  My 
Contemporariei  in  l''«tmn  (CHATTO  AND 
WINDUS)  is  somewhat  elliptical  for  con- 
veyance of  the  precise  meaning  the 
author  obviously  has  in  his  mind.  He 
does  not  mean,  as  strict  interpretation  of 
the  phrase  implies,  that  he,  Mr.  HARDY. 
Mr.  CLARK  RUSSELL,  Mr.  BARRIE,  and 
others  of  whom  he  writeSj  are  fictitious 
characters.  What  is  unmistakably  clear 
in  the  title  is  its  frank  egoism.  Mr. 
MURRAY  is  just  the  man,  in  other  circum- 
stances, to  have  written,  JCgo  et  Rex. 
Which  makes  more  charming  his  severe 
rebuke  of  Miss  CORKLLI  for  her  "self- 
approving  hysteria  "  and  his  lament  over 
CHARLES  READE'S  "  fashion  of  intruding 
himself  on  his  reader."  But  if  he  i> 
constitutionally,  sometimes  comically,  ego- 
tistical, there  is,  my  Baronite  assures  me, 
a  real  noteworthy  Ego  behind.  The  little 
volume  is,  from  first  page  to  last,  full  of 
keen,  sound,  informing  criticism^  the 
literary  style  of  its  setting  forth  being  of 
itself  a  delight.  This  sensation  will  per- 
haps not  be  shared  by  Miss  ConELLi  and 
Mr.  HENRY  JAMKS,  for  the  sting  of  dis- 
paragement is  sharpened  by  the  conviction 
borne  in  upon  the  disinterested  reader  that 


SONGS    AND    THEIR    SINGERS.     No. 

Jack  (ringing  at  the  top  of  his  voice) — 
"THERE  's  ONLY  out  GIRL  IN  THB  WORLD  FOR  ME  !  "— Popular  Song. 


Mr.  MURRAY  not  only  possesses  critical 
faculty  in  the  highest  state  of  training,  but 
that,  in  approaching  his  self-appointed 
task,  he  has  honestly  endeavoured  to  set 
aside  personal  prejudice. 

THE  BARON  D»  B.-W. 


PARLIAMENTARY  CRICKET  IN  THE 

COLONIES    AND  AFTER. 

(Neva  in  advance  lind'y  furnished  by  Our 
Prophet  Reporter.) 

Canada. — Mr.  A-ST-N  CH-MB-RL-N,  hav- 
ing bowled  and  batted  admirably  in  both 
innings,  was  listened  to  with  marked  at- 
tention when  he  delivered  a  lecture  upon 
the  policy  of  his  right  hon.  father. 

Australia. — Mr.  H-NN-K-R  H-T-N.  having 
unfortunately  retired  with  a  duck's  ecg, 
found  it  utterly  impossible  to  explain  his 
plan  for  establishing  an  Imperial  penny 
postage.  The  disappointed  spectators  in 
the  cricket-field  refused  to  listen  to  him. 


Cape  Colony. —  Sir  R-CH-RD  W-BST-R, 
having  shown  admirable  discretion  in  per- 
forming the  duties  of  captainship,  was  in- 
vited by  the  Bench  to  point  out  the  flaws 
in  President  KR-C-R'B  procedure,  re  the 
judges  of  the  Transvaal. 

London. — On  the  return  of  the  Parlia- 
mentary eleven,  the  team  received  the 
appointment  of  Additional  Masters  of  the 
Ceremonies,  in  recognition  of  their  bril- 
liant association  with  the  greatest  of 
British  institutions — the  ball. 


Bumble  on  the  Bencb. 

["  At  the  Highgate  Police-Court  it  wu  pleaded 

that  the  owner  of  a  dog  without  a  murrle  wa*  dead. 

The  Bench  appeared  to  think  this  a  fiivolou*  ob- 

.  and  imposed  a  6ne  of  10».  and  coeU." — 

Daily  Chronicle.'] 

O  SHADE  of  Bumble !  thine  the  head 

This  knotty  point  to  clench. 
"  The  law  's  a  hass,"  as  thou  hast  said — 
But  what  about  the  Bench  ? 


136 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[SEPTEMBER  25,  1897. 


FOND    DELUSION. 

Oerty.   "I  'M  so  DLAD  IT'S  MOONLIGHT,  MUZZER. 

SO   DARK   IN   ZOSE  HORRID  TUNNELS  !  ' 


IT  WON'T  BE 


AN    ERROR   OF  JUDGMENT. 

A  DIALOGUE  STORY  IN  SEVEN  PARTS. 

PAR!  VII. 
SCENE— The  Garden. 

Bowater.  Pray  sit  down,  Miss  STILWEI.L.  I  shall  be  happy  to 
hear  your  views  with  regard  to  the  publication  of  your — hem — 
Stolen  Sweets. 

Kezia  (seating  herself).  Well,  Sir,  I  think  you'll  agree  with 
me  it 's  the  sort  of  story  that  ought  to  have  pictures. 

Sowater.  Pictures,  eh?  H'm!  ahl  Were  you  contemplating 
having  them — er — coloured  ? 

Kezia  (pleased).  That  would  give  the  hooka  handsomer  appear, 
ance,  certainly — provided,  of  course,  it  was  done  artistically. 

Bowater  (with  weary  irony).  Perhaps  you  would  like  the  illus- 
trations entrusted  to  the  President  of  the  Royal  Academy  ? 

Kezia.  If  you  consider  him  thoroughly  compitent,  Sir,  I  Ve 
no  objection,  I  'm  sure.  Though  I  'd  rather  see  a  few  samples 
before  deciding. 

Bowater.  A  very  proper  precaution.  However — er — I  'm  afraid 
we  must  give  up  the  idea  of  illustrations  as  rather  too  expensive. 

Kezia  (bridling).  I  should  have  thought  myself  you  wouldn't 
consider  expense  any  object  with  a  book  of  real  first-rate  genius 
— like  you  said  yourself  mine  was  1 

"Bowater  (to  himself).  I  don't  want  to  lose  my  temper  if  I  can 
help  it  I  (Aloud.)  Real  genius,  Miss  STILWELL,  can  afford  to  do 
without  any — er — pictorial  aid. 

Kezia  (sharply).  I  suppose  you  mean  you*  can't  afford  to  pro- 
vide it,  Sir. 

Bowater.  In  the  present  case,  most  certainly  not.  Now,  as  to 
terms.  Have  you  thought  at  all  what  sum  you  would  consider 
satisfactory  P 


Kezia.  Well,  I  hare  heard  of  lady-novelists  getting  as  much  as 
ten  thousand  pounds. 

Bowater  (aghast).  But,  bless  my  soul!  You  don't  expect  me 
to  pay  you  that,  do  you  ? 

Kezia.  No.  I  wouldn't  mind  taking  five  thousand  pounds  for 
mine. 

Bowater.  I  know  very  few  authors  who  would.  My  good  girl, 
don't  be  absurd  I  Five  thousand  shillings  would  be  monstrous 
enough — but  pounds!  You  really  must  be  reasonable,  you  know. 

Kezia.  You  '11  excuse  me,  Sir,  but  I  'm  not  so  simple  as  you 
think.  After  all  you  and  the  other  gentleman  said  at  lunch,  I 
can't  help  knowing  my  own  value.  However,  seoner  than 
wrangle  over  it,  I  '11  come  down  to  a  thousand. 

[BOWATER  rises  impatiently,  and  goes  to  the  drawing-room 
window. 

Bowater.  Miss  LTDE.  (CAMILLA  appears.)  Your  young  friend 
has  made  a  modest  demand  of  a  thousand  pounds  for  permitting 
me  the  privilege  of  losing  money  and  reputation  by  bringing  out 
this  ridiculous  romance  of  hers.  I  presume  that  even  you  will 
consider  that  rather  too  severe  a  penalty  for  my — ah — offence  ? 

Camilla  (coming  out).  Oh,  of  course.  I  will  come  and  speak  to 
her  myself.  It 's  only  that  she  doesn't  understand  these  things. 

[They  return  to  KEZIA. 

Bowater.  Miss  STILWELL,  it 's  perfectly  impossible  for  me  to 
pay  anything  remotely  approaching  the  sum  you  name,  but  I  am 
prepared  to  make  you  an  offer  of —  (He  names  the  terms.)  1 
assure  you  that  for — er — a  first  book  by  an  unknown  writer,  that 
is  as  much  as  you  are  likely  to  obtain  anywhere. 

Camilla.  Indeed,  KEZIA,  you  will  be  a  very  foolish  girl  if  you 
refuse  it. 

Kezia.  That 's  you/r  opinion,  Miss.  But  I  'm  afraid  your  advice 
isn't  so  disinterested  as  it  might  be.  You  're  all  for  yourself, 
you  are ! 

Camilla.  I'm  sorry  you  should  think  so,  KEZIA.  I  am  always 
anxious  to  help  any  literary  beginner  if  I  can — especially  a  friend. 

Kezia.  There  was  that  friend  of  yours  who  trusted  you  with 
her  story  to  send  to  Mr.  BOWATER.  When  I  told  you  just  now  it 
had  got  burnt  accidentally,  it  didn't  strike  me  you  were  particu- 
larly put  out.  Quite  the  contrary.  It 's  my  firm  belief  you  were 
rather  relieved  than  not. 

Camilla  (checking  BOWATER,  who  is  about  to  interrupt,  indig- 
nantly). Mr.  BOWATER,  please!  Well,  KEZIA,  I  may  have  had 
my  reasons  for  thinking  it  not  altogether  a  misfortune. 

Kezia.  Ah,  when  parties  are  in  the  writing  line  themselves, 
they  're  not  always  sorry  to  see  their  rivals  out  of  the  way.  But 
you  mayn't  be  best  pleased  to  hear,  Miss,  that  I  was  misinformed 
about  that  manuscript.  It  appears  that  Cook  really  posted  the 
parcel  after  all,  and  then  had  the  malignancy  to  pret«nd  to  me 
she  'd  put  it  on  the  fire,  and  kept  the  secret  till  a  few  minutes 
ago,  just  for  the  pleasure  of  getting  a  rise  out  of  me,  Miss  I 

Bowater  (to  himself).  Not  destroyed  I     If  it  should  turn  out 

But  she  'd  never  believe  it  now ! 

Camilla.  Mr.  BOWATER,  if  that  manuscript  has  reached  you,  I 
shall  be  obliged  by  your  returning  it — unread. 

Kezia.  Well,  some  people  have  queer  ideas  of  doing  their 
friends  a  good  turn  I  Mr.  BOWATER,  it 's  my  wish  to  come  to  an 
understanding,  if  possible.  I  '11  say  five  hundred  pounds,  to  oblige 
you.  If  that  don't  suit  you,  I  '11  trouble  you  to  give  me  my  story 
back,  and  I  '11  find  some  gentleman  who  '11  be  glad  enough  to  give 
me  my  own  price  for  it. 

Bowater  (promptly).  Since  you  insist,  Miss  STILWELL,  I  shall 
be  very  pleased  to  meet  your  wishes  (KEZIA'S  eyes  light  up  with 
triumph),  and  return  you  your  manuscript  as  soon  as  possible, 
with  my  best  wishes  for  its  success  elsewhere. 

Kezia.  I  might  have  known  what  all  your  fine  words  were 
worth  1  You  shouldn't  have  it  now  if  you  went  on  your  knees  to 
me !  [She  leaves  the  garden,  furious. 

Bowater.  Thank  Heaven,  I  Ve  got  rid  of  that  awful  girl !  I 
think  you  have  her  manuscript,  Miss  LTDE.  Will  you  see  that 
she  receives  it  ?  You  might — er — remove  the  printed  rejection 
form. 

Camilla.  Yes,  we  must  spare  her  that.  Poor  girl,  I  'm  afraid 
there  are  more  disappointments  in  store  for  her.  But  I  shall  not 
allow  her  to  leave  me  at  present,  if  I  can  induce  her  to  listen 
to  reason. 

Bowater.  And  now  that  it  seems  that  your  novel  has  come  into 
my  hands  after  all — you  won't  really  take  it  away  from  me  ? 

Camilla.  I — I  must.  You  don't  understand  how  I  feel  about 
it.  I  wanted  you  to  like  it.  But  don't  you  see  that,  however 

warmly  you  were  to  praise  it  now,  I  should  never  quite It 

wouldn't  be  the  same  ! 

Bowater  (earnestly).  But,  Miss  LTDE,  if  I  might  only  tell  you. 

....  Confound  it  all — young  ALABASTER  ! 

Nora  (who  has  entered  with    GERALD,   in    an    undertone,  to 


SEPTIBIBEB  25,  1897.]  PUNCH,     OR     THE     LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


137 


CAMILLA).  I'm  sure  Mr.  BOWATER  Las  worries  enough  without 
tJKBAi.D,  but  he  would  come  I 

ii'frnlil  (shflty,  In  HUWATKK).  Oh,  I've  brought  you  your  bag. 
I  haven't  opened  it.  After  wliat  you  said  I  don't  suppose  you 
require  my  services  any  more. 

[He  hands  him  a  small  Hack  leather  bag. 

Huwater.  There,  there,  my  dear  fellow,  I  was  irritated.  I  don't 
remember  what  1  said,  but  I  didn't  mean  it.  1  'm  glad  to  have 
that  bag.  though,  it  may  ....  Miss  LYDE,  this  is  the  bag  I  left 
at  Mr.  ALADASTKH'S  this  morning.  It  contains  the  story  I  be- 
lieve, rightly  or  wrongly,  to  be  yours,  also  a  memorandum  written 
overnight  for  his  benefit,  and  stating  my  opinion  of  the  work  in 
no  measured  terms.  I  venture  to  hope  that,  if  you  would  take 
t  Ins  trouble  to  read  it,  you  could  no  longer  doubt  the  sincerity 
of  my  admiration. 

Camilla.  Don't  be  rash,  Mr.  BOWATKB.  Suppose  the  manu- 
script turns  out  not  to  be  mine  P 

liowater.  I  '11  run  the  risk. 

[Ke  gives  her  the  MS.,  which  she  receives  with  a  itart. 

Nora  (to  GERALD,  in  the  background).  Why  did  you  come  back  ? 
It 's  my  belief  you  've  made  matters  worse  than  ever  I 

Oerald.  It  is  not  my  fault  if  BOWATBB  will  plunge  in  thi»  reck- 
less way  1 

Vowater  (to  CAMILLA,  as  she  finishes  reading  the  memorandum 
with  flushed  cheeks).  Well,  are  you  satisfied? 

Camilla.  More — much  more  than  satisfied.  I  never  hoped  that 
anyone  would  see  so  exactly  what  I  was  aiming  at,  or  praise  my 
work  BO  generously  as  you  have  done  here,  dear  Mr.  BOWATER. 
I  am  very,  very  proud  and  grateful. 

Vowater.  And  do  you  still  deny  me  the  privilege  of  being  its 
publisher  P 

Camilla.  No,  no.  How  mulii  1 1  Where  should  I  find  a  kinder 
and  more  sympathetic  reader  P 

Bowater.  Then  you  forgive  me  for  my — er — want  of  frankness  ? 

('<tinill<i  (giving  him  her  hand).  If  you  will  forget  all  the  horrid 
things  I  said  to  you  about  it. 

Oerald  (to  NORA).  I  say,  I  do  believe  BOWAIER  's  brought  it  off 
after  all. 

Nora.  Of  course.  I  knew  it  would  all  come  right.  And  really, 
it 's  all  my  doing.  I  consider  I  've  managed  it  uncommonly  well, 
don't  you  ? 

Oerald.  Oh,  come,  I  say— you  might  give  a  fellow  tome  of  the 
credit  I 

Nora.  You  P    Why,  what  did  you  do  P 

Oerald.  Well,  I  brought  the  bag. 

Nora.  Pooh  1     Any  boy  could  bring  a  bag  I 

Oerald.  Ah,  and  any  girl  can  let  the  cat  out  of  it ! 

THE   KO>. 


THEN  AND  NOW. 

BKFOBK  THK  HOLIDAYS  (AN  ANTICIPATION). 

REALLY  nothing  so  pleasant  aa  packing.  Such  fun  to  see  how 
many  things  you  can  get  into  a  portmanteau.  Won't  take  any 
books  as  the  "  Continong  "  will  be  enough  for  amusement. 

Capital  carriages  to  Dover.  Everything  first-rate.  Civil 
guards.  Time-table  not  a  dead  letter.  Splendid  boats,  smooth 
sea.  and  a  first-rate  buffet  at  Calais. 

Dear  Paris  I  Just  the  place  for  the  inside  of  a  week.  Boule- 
vards full  of  novelties.  Theatres  in  full  swing.  Evenings  out- 
side the  cafes  perfect  happiness.  Splendid  I 

En  route.  Swiss  scenery,  as  ever,  lovely.  Mountains  glorious, 
passes,  lakes.  Delightful.  Nothing  can  compare  with  a  jaunt 
through  the  land  of  TBLL. 

Italy — dear  old  Italy.  Oh,  the  blue  sky  and  the  tables  d'hote! 
What  more  glorious  than  the  ruins  of  Rome  P  What  more 
precious  than  the  pictures  of  Florence  ?  What  more  restful  than 
the  gondolas  of  Venice  P 

And  the  people  even  I  The  French  the  pink  of  politeness.  The 
Swiss  homely  and  kindly.  The  Italians  inheriting  the  nobility  of 
the  CsBsars. 

And  all  this  to  take  the  place  of  hard  work.  Well,  it  is  to 
come.  Bless  everybody  1 

AFTER  THK  HOLIDAYS  (A  RETROSPECT). 

WHAT  can  be  worse  than  packing  P  And  after  all  the  trouble 
of  shoving  things  in  anywhere,  you  find  you  have  left  half 
your  belongings  behind  I  And  of  course  the  books  you  half  read 
during  your  weary  travels  are  stopped  at  the  Custom  House. 

Beastly  journey  from  Paris  to  Calais,  and  as  for  the  crossing 
afterwards — well,  as  long  as  I  live  I  shall  never  forget  it  1 

Dear  Paris!     Emphatically  "dear,"   with  the  accent  on  the 

«v«**nnA          I  •]...]    *«    1 —  «£    :.          Tl~.,l~ -J-   .!„,.„..*.,, 1          TU™*,..™ 


THE  CONVALESCENT  CHAMPION  OF  ETHIOPIA. 
PRINCI  H-NRY  OF  ORL-KS. 


playing  "reldche."  Caffs  deathtraps  in  the  service  of  the 
influenza. 

En  route!  Who  cares  for  Switzerland — always  the  samel 
Eternal  mountains — yet  coming  up  promising  year  after  year  I 
Sloppy  passes,  misty  views.  Beastly  monotonous.  The  Cantons 
played  out. 

Italy  1  Who  says  Italy  P  Blue  sky  not  equal  to  Wandsworth. 
Rome  unhealthy.  Art  treasures  at  Florence  not  equal  to  collec- 
tion in  South  Kensington.  Mosquitoes  at  Venice. 

And  the  people  1  Cheeky  French,  swindling  Swiss,  and  dirty 
Italians  1 

And  yet  this  is  all  to  be  supplemented  by  the  same  hard  work. 
In  the  collar  again.  Oh !  hang  everybody  1 


OUR  DOMESTIC  WANTS. 

["LADY  HOUSE  MA  ID  wanted.  Clergyman's  daughter  preferred.  Capable, 
lull,  rood  needlewoman,  knowledge  of  cooking.  Cap*,  apron*.  Small  family, 
o.i  *H._ Address,  &c."— Church  Timet.] 


Sal. 


ENERAL  wanted.    Must  be  lady  of  title.    Excellent  refer- 
ences  required.    Expected  to  give  services  in  return  for  a 
Christian  home.  —  Box  B  241. 


HOUSEMAID  .wanted.      Clergyman's   daughter   preferred. 
Tall,  strong,  good  needlewoman,  knowledge  of  cooking. 
Caps,  aprons.    Large  family.    Sal.  £12.— Lady  C.,  6,  The  Cres- 
cent, Norfolk  Broads. 


WANTED,    Lady  Help  to  take  charge  of   eight  children, 
wait  at  table,  and  assist  in  the  scullery.  Must  give  services 
for  first  six  months,  while  undergoing  instruction  in  duties. — 
Mrs.  Orindem,  Fetter  Street,  Stonehenge. 


OVEKNESS,  speaking  French,  German,  Spanish,  and  Italian 
required.  Knowledge  of  drawing,  painting,  and  music 
indispensable.  To  teach  three  little  girls  of  impaired  intellect. 
Churchwoman.  Meals  in  servants'  hall.  Sal.  £8. — Gentlewoman, 
care  of  Smith's,  The  Broadway,  Brighton. 

WANTED,  ititchenmaid,  where  man  ooolTis  kept.     Must  be 
lady  by  birth,  good  plain  cook,  and  accustomed  to  dish 
up  entrees.     No  followers  or  fringes  allowed.     Sal.  £6. — Apply 
personally  to  Housekeeper,  The  Lodge,  Newport,  Lanes.,  Mon- 
days and  Wednesdays,  between  1 1  A.M.  and  4  P.M. 

DA1UYM.V11)   wanted.     Kenned,  well  educated,  accustomed 
to  hard  work,  good  milker,  and  early  riser.     Expected  to 
speak  French  with  elder  children  in  the  evening,  and  play  har- 
monium on  Sundays.     25  years'  character.     Age  not  under  30. 

.l',1   f> W      I'.".-,        7V    ,..  0    I    Illi.    .1 


138 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[SEPTEMBER  25,  1897. 


Schoolmaster.  " FOR  WHAT  WERE  THE  ANCIENT  ROMANS  CHIEFLY  REMARKABLE?    WELL,  CORKER?" 
Corker.  "  PLEASE,  SIR,  THEY  UNDERSTOOD  LATIN  !" 


DOMESTIC  DISCIPLES. 

["  Is  there  any  reason  why  a  school  of  domestic  economy  should  not  be 
attached  to  every  high  school  and  private  college  for  women  throughout  the 
length  and  breadth  of  the  land  f  " — Daily  Telegraph.] 

IN  anticipation  of  the  time  when  this  admirable  suggestion  will 
be  carried  out,  Mr.  Punch,  begs  to  submit  an  examination  paper 
for  the  study  of  intending  candidates. 

I.  Let  A  be  yourself,  and  B  your  husband,  and  x  the  contents 
of  your  larder  (consisting  of  two  mackerel,  one  chicken,  and  a 
small  apple-tart).     On  a  Sunday  evening  B  unexpectedly  brings 
home  5  friends  to  supper.     Under  these  circumstances,  simplify 

the  fraction  -.— ^ in  a  satisfactory  manner. 

A  +  B  +  5 

II.  (a)  If  2  housemaids  can  smash  5  plates  in  4  days,  estimate  the 
amount  of  the  crockery  bill  for  6  months,  allowing  for  "  Sundays 
out." 

(6)  "Mistress  of  herself  though  China  fall."  Can  you  truth- 
fully apply  this  line  of  POPE  to  yourself  ? 

III.  What  would  you  expact  your  husband  to  say,  and  how 
would  you  proceed  to  pacii'y  him,  under  the  following  circum 
stances : — 


Sa)  His  bacon  is  burnt  for  the  sixth  time  in  succession. 
b)  " 

pipe  with  soap  and  water '( 


b)  His  study  has  been  thoroughly  "  tidied." 

<0    ' 


(c)  An  enthusiastic  housemaid  has  scrubbed  his  pet  meerschaum 


IV.  You  live  in  a  small,  back  street,  A,  close  to  a  fashionable 
square  of  the  same  name.  How  would  you  persuade  your  trades- 
man that  the  following  formula  is  true :  A  =  A3  ? 


Common  Cook.  Compose  a  ' '  character ' '  which  will  satisfy  her, 
and  yet  be  not  untruthful  for  one  who  cheats,  is  unpunctual,  and 
habitually  intemperate. 

VI.  Translate  into  English,  comment  on,  and  suggest  suitable 
replies  to,  the  following  phrases  : — 

fa)  "  Please,  mum,  it  came  away  in  my  'and ! " 

(b)  "And  what 's  more,  mum,  be  put  upon  I  won't  !  " 

(c)  "  I  never  gave  no  followers  a  blessed  morsel !  " 

VII.  Let  A  be  a  nurse,  B  a  soldier,  and  C  your  children.    How 
often  will  you  expect  A  and  B  to  coincide  at  any  given  point,  and 
the  following  process  to  result:  A+B+C=AB— C?    And  how 

soon  will  you  make  A=A— B    (    -+a  month's  notice  ? 

VIII.  State  truthfully  what  food  you  are  able  to  prepare  in 
the  absence  of  a  cook  (tea,  coffee,  and  boiled  eggs  barred).    Men- 
tion the  names  of  any  who  have  eaten  a  cake  of  your  manufac- 
ture, and  add  if  they  are  still  living. 

IX.  Can  you  keep  accounts  "     What  proportion  of  the  weekly 
expenditure  do  you  consider  yourself  entitled  to  include  under  the 
head  "Sundries''? 


De  Minimis. 

Q.  "  Use-ma jesti!"    And  what,  dear  Sir,  is  thatt 

A.  There  's  no  clear  definition  of  the  thing. 
The  nearest  one  is  able  to  get  at, 

Is — telling  truth  of  Emperor  or  King. 
For  instance,  'tis  Use-maJKsU,  some  state, 
To  say  a  German  Emperor  is  not  "  Great." 
Which  would  not  matter,  not  a  jot  or  tittle, 


i 

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SEPTEMBER  25,  1897.]  PUNCH,     OR    THE    LONDON     CHARIVARI. 


141 


EXTENUATING. 

Aimt  Jaw,  (looking  up  suddenly).  "BARBARA,  DON'T  YOU  THINK  HERBERT'S  LEOS  ARE  RATHER  TOO  THIN  FOR  KNICKERBOCKERS?" 
Barbara  (a fond  cmd  proitd  Wife).  "On,  NO,  AUNTIE,  THEY  ARE  NOT  THIN— ONLY  THEY  'RE  BATHER  CHIPPENDALE." 


A  PHILANTHROPIC  PROTEST. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  see  by  those  jour- 
nals which  are  devoted  to  the  Elevation  of 
the  Masses  that  the  London  County 
Council  is  about  to  restrain  the  exuberant 
voice  of  the  Peripatetic  Merchant.  In 
this  I  am  wholly  in  accord  with  the  Wise- 
acres of  Spring  Gardens,  inasmuch  as  it 
has  been  for  years  a  daily  practice  of  mine 
to  endeavour  to  discover  what  wares  the 
Peripatetic  Merchant  is  extolling.  He  is 
always  guilty  of  various  howls  and  yells, 
which  would  not  disgrace  the  Zoological 
Gardens,  but  otherwise  his  barbaric  dis- 
cord has  no  possible  meaning  to  a  civi- 
lised ear.  As  I  write,  a  being,  presumably 
with  commercial  instincts,  is  parading  the 
thoroughfare  in  which  it  is  my  privilege  to 
reside,  uttering  a  cry  which  sounds  like 
(written  phonetically)  "  Bur-roo."  I  have 
not  time  to  inquire  what  goods  he  is 
endeavouring  to  dispose  of,  out  possibly 
they  may  be  potatoes  or  cat's-meat." 

Suffering  as  I  do  from  this  continual 
dislocation  of  the  English  language,  I  ven- 
ture to  suggest  to  the  London  County 
Council  that  it  should  establish  Evening 
Classes  for  the  Education  of  the  Peripatetic 
Merchant.  Thereat  he  might  be  taught 
to  phrase  with  some  regard  to  vocal  and 
oral  common-sense.  How  pleasant  it  would 
be  if  the  Peripatetic  Merchant  could  be 
instructed  (at  the  expense  of  the  rate- 
payers) to  bawl  "  Fresh  herrings "  or 

Milk "     with    articulate     emphasis  I       I 

*  It  appears  to  have  been  "  firewood,"  eo  my 
rascal  says.— T.  T.  (later). 


According  to  the  4V.  Jaina'i  Gazette,  Battlement- 
shaped  HaU  are  to  be  in  vogue  this  season.  Our 
artist  thinks  the  idea  might  be  utilised  for  gentle- 
men's attire  as  above. 


might  further  suggest  that  a  corresponding 
class  for  railway  porters  should  be  esta- 
blished, thereby  preventing  many  travellers 
from  alighting  at  stations  whereof  the  pre- 
sumable names  are  "  Blinker's  Extract  of 
Beef,"  or  "  Army  Cut  Tobacco."  Trusting 
that  you  will  bring  this  idea  to  the  notice 
of  the  respected  and  intelligent  authorities 
in  question,  I  am,  Sir, 

Your  obedient,  humble  servant, 
TOBIAS  TITTLEBAT. 

Chortlebury  Chamberi,  Bloomsbvry. 

P.S. — Allow  me  to  exempt  the  muffin- 
man,  with  his  time-honoured  and  easily 
recognised  bell,  from  my  indictment. 


After  the  Big  Beat. 
Owner    (to    Head    Keeper,    when 


the 


"  tally"  has  been  told).  This  isn't  up  to  last 
year,  GUNLOCK  1 

Gunlock  (semi-defiantty).  No,  Sir;  but 
last  year  you  didn't  invite  so  many  mem- 
bers of  the  Anti-Society  for  the  Prevention 
of  Cruelty  to  Animals.  Why,  the  wounded 
birds  is  wuss  than  it  was  after  Waterloo  I 

[Owner  collapses,  and  invite)  GUNLOCK  to 
console  himself. 

A  PORTENT. — Mr.  JOHN  MORLEY  said  in 
his  wrath,  "  The  House  of  Lords  must  be 
mended  or  ended."  The  Member  for  Sark 
says  the  beginning  of  the  end  is  already 
marked.  Anyhow,  the  Westminster  Pier 
has  gone  down. 

POPUULR  PASTIME  FOB  A  PRISON  WAK- 
DKK.— "  Putting"  on  the  "  Links." 


142 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[SEPTEMBER  25,  1897. 


THE  ADELPHI  DUKE ;  OE,  THE  MIGHTY  AT  'EM. 

WE  must  revise  our  sayings  of  famous  men.  The  playing- 
fields  of  Eton  must  retire  into  obscurity,  for  the  battle  of 
Waterloo,  with  which  they  have  been  connected  for  more  than 
eighty  years,  is  now  won  every  night  on  the  stage  of  the  Adelphi. 
I  have  been  there,  and  having  seen  the  ghastly  proofs,  know  what 
I  am  talking  about. 

Mr.  CHARLES  CARTWRIGHT  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  whole  thing. 
If  he  had  never  been  a  pale-faced,  deliberate  villain,  in  a  muffin- 
cap,  Mr.  TERRISS  would  never  have  been  unjustly  persecuted, 
would  never  have  suffered  punishment  for  being  "  the  man  who 
struck  O'Hara,"  alias  Mr.  J.  D.  BEVERIDGE,  and  it  is  manifest 
that  the  Duke  would  never  have  been  able,  at  a  critical  point, 
to  despatch  Mr.  TEKRISS  with  a  message  that  appears  to  have 
decided  the  fate  of  the  battle.  A  heavy  responsibility  rests, 
therefore,  on  Mr.  CHARLES  CARTWRIOHT,  and,  when  next  he  visits 
Paris,  I  advise  him  to  adopt  a  heavy  disguise,  for  our  jealous 
neighbours,  in  whose  minds  Waterloo  is  still  understood  to 
rankle,  might  take  strong  measures  with  him.  In  these  days  of 
the  Russian  alliance  Siberia  is  a  mere  French  department. 

I  am  told  we  are  to  have  a  patriotic  boom  in  Wellingtons,  just 


into  his  own  hands,  and  has  discharged  a  pistol  full  at  Colonel 
Aylmer.  Judging  by  the  appearance  of  the  Colonel's  face  imme- 
diately after  the  explosion,  the  pistol  was  charged  with  straw- 
berry jam.  The  deadly  preserve,  however,  does  its  work,  and 
Colonel  Aylmer  expires  just  as  Colonel  Wellesley  arrives. 

In  the  ensuing  interval  of  ten  minutes,  fourteen  years  speed 
rapidly  away.  NAPOLEON  is  in  Elba,  and  the  British  army,  re- 
leased from  war-like  toil,  is  refreshing  itself  at  an  inn  near 
Plymouth,  which  is  entirely  under  the  new  management  of  Mr. 
HARRY  NICHOLLS.  Mr.  TERRISS  has  grown  up,  and  is  now  Cap- 
tain Aylmer,  a  romantic,  pale  Apollo  of  twenty-four.  He  is  in 
love  with  Dorothy  Maine  (Miss  MILL-WARD).  For  the  fourteenth 
time  he  asks  her  to  marry  him,  and  for  the  first  time  she  accepts. 
They  retire  once  more  "to  the  brook  by  the  orchard."  But 
Beveridge  O'Hara  lias  had  his  adventurous  Irish  eye  on  them,  and 
so  has  the  Swiss  landlord,  who,  having  accepted  a  commission  in 
the  British  army,  has  been  swiftly  promoted  to  the  rank  of 
Colonel  in  the  Rifle  Brigade.  Anything  more  uncolonial  (if  the 
word  may  pass  in  this  Jubilee  year)  than  Colonel  Lanson  I  never 
saw.  He  wears  a  muffin-cap  and  a  long  yellow  coat  covered  with 
black  braid,  and  looks  exactly  like  a  little  boy  in  an  ancient 
picture-book.  He  has,  however,  left  his  frilled  drawers  and  his 


P.M.  "  The  Dook."  "  '  Days  of  the  Duke,'  indeed ! 
as  the  French  have  been  enjoying  a  boom  in  Napoleons,  and  that 
In  the  Days  of  the  Duke  is  only  the  first  of  a  series  of  stirring 
ducal  dramas.  I  may  express  the  hope  that  in  the  rest  we  shall 
see  something  more  of  our  national  hero.  At  the  Adelphi  he  is 
a  mere  flitter,  a  thing  of  no  substance,  and  the  action  of  the  play 
would  get  on  quite  comfortably  without  him.  Somewhere  I  have 
read  that  in  a  really  good  historical  drama  the  great  personage 
ought  not  to  be  a  very  prominent  figure.  The  audience  ought  to 
have  a  pervading  sense  of  his  being  somewhere  in  the  back- 
ground, controlling  the  action.  But  here,  though  the  Duke  is 
unquestionably  in  the  background,  I  never  had  the  least  sense  of 
him,  he  controlled  nothing  and  nobody,  and  it  was  with  a  feeling 
of  puzzled  astonishment  that  I  eventually  recognised  his  fine 
aquiline  nose  (admirably  played  by  Mr.  CHARLES  FULTON),  as  he 
advanced  to  the  footlights  in  a  scarlet  tunic  and  the  light-blue 
ribbon  of  the  Garter. 

But  to  the  play.  When  I  arrived  the  Prologue  was  half  over, 
and,  as  I  had  failed  to  secure  a  programme,  I  had  at  first  to  piece 
the  plot  together  for  myself.  I  gathered  that  a  party  of  British 
tourists  are  staying  at  a  Swiss  hotel,  let  us  say  the  Hotel  Beau 
S^jour.  The  walls  are  lined  with  alpenstocks,  and  the  open 
windows  command  a  noble  view  of  the  distant  Alps.  But  trouble 
is  brewing.  Colonel  Aylmer  has  evidently  disputed  the  landlord's 
bill,  and  the  landlord,  naturally  resenting  this  display  of  British 
arrogance,  has  summoned  the  natives  of  the  Canton  to  help  him. 
The  Colonel  is  torn  by  anxiety.  If  he  had  not  been  so  old  and 
war-beaten,  I  should  have  taken  him  for  Mr.  TERRISS.  The 
Colonel's  wife,  a  young  and  giddy  thing,  much  given  to  tears 
and  prayer,  is  also  in  deep  distress.  But  Colonel  Wellesley, 
Colonel  Aylmer's  friend,  is  touring  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  is 
expected  to  succour  his  distressed  countrymen.  He  arrives,  but, 
alas,  too  late,  for  the  infuriated  landlord  (Mr.  CHARLES  CART- 
WRIGHT),  dressed  in  a  Swiss  artillery  uniform,  has  taken  the  law  I 


Never  set  eyes  on  such  a  rummy  lot  in  my  time  ! ! " 

hoop  at  home.  The  two  villains  conspire  against  Aylmer,  who  is 
still  in  the  orchard.  In  the  next  scene  we  find  Miss  MARION 
TERRY.  She  is  aged  about  twenty-two,  but  this  fact  does  not 
prevent  her  from  being  Captain  Aylmer's  mother.  Mother  and 
son  indulge  in  a  scene  of  affection,  the  idyllic  nature  of  which 
may  be  imagined  when  their  respective  ages  are  considered ;  the 
villainous  Lanson  walks  once  more  chin-deep  in  wickedness,  Miss 
TERRY  passionately  addresses  the  highly-coloured  picture  of  her 
deceased  husband,  the  picture  brutally  refuses  to  answer  her,  and 
the  act  ends.  Still  no  Duke  of  WELLINGTON. 

In  the  next  act  Paris  claims  us.  We  are  all  there,  Captain 
Aylmer,  Colonel  Lanson  (extra-sec,  not  to  say  brut),  Mrs. 
Aylmer,  Dorothy  Maine,  O'Hara,  and  Sergeant  Harry  Niehottt 
Bunder,  who,  with  Mrs.  Bunder,  has  deserted  the  inn  near  Ply- 
mouth and  flown  to  the  Seine  in  the  scarlet  coat  and  cape  of  a 
Salvation  Army  Captain  of  the  early  part  of  the  century.  What 
harum-scarum,  reckless,  devils  of  fellows  we  are  I  How  we 
gamble  at  the  Palais  Royal,  while  across  our  scene  of  revelry 
stalks  the  sombre  figure  of  Colonel  Lanson,  no  longer  in  a  muffin- 
cap,  but  for  all  the  world  like  the  statue  of  the  Commendatore  in 
Don  Giovanni,  followed  by  Donna  Anna  and  Donna  Elvira  in 
the  masked  shapes  of  Dorothy  Maine  and  Mrs.  Bunder.  Sergeant 
Bunder,  it  should  be  added,  fulfils  his  destiny  by  turning  up  as  a 
Pierrot.  The  end  of  it  all  is  that,  spurred  to  desperation  by  the 
French  accent  they  have  had  to  listen  to  in  the  Palais  Royal, 
Aylmer  and  O'Hara  fight  a  duel  in  a  wood  beyond  the  fortifica- 
tions. O'Hara,  as  I  have  intimated,  gets  struck,  I  might  say 
pierced,  and  dies  in  a  flood  of  repentance  and  moonlight  after  he 
has  pressed  into  the  delicate  hands  of  Dorothy  a  blood-stained 
letter,  which  is  to  explain  everything  and  everybody,  and  restore 
cheerfulness  to  the  gloomy  brow  of  Captain  Aylmer.  And  still 
the  Duke  remains  obstinately  in  the  background. 

We  are  in  Brussels,  at  the  Duchess  of  RICHMOND'S  hall.     What 


SBPTKMBBR  25,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


143 


of  uniforms,  if  I  may  borrow  from  my  friend  AUGUSTS,  what  of 
swords  and  helmets,  what  of  magnific  officers,  what  of  incom- 
parable robes  of  ball!  S:,,i,,i,,t  Itumlrr  and  his  spouse  have 
vanished  from  the  play,  but  the  rest  of  us  are  all  there.  Behold, 
too,  Lord  l'ximii>.;K  and  th«'  Prince  of  ORANGE,  the  two  hand- 
somest inon  in  the  army  ;  and  here  from  a  window'd  niche  of  that 
high  hall  Come* proudly  advancing  Brunswick's  fatted  chieftain — 
thus,  anil  in  no  other  words,  would  BVKIIN  have  described  him 
had  ho  but  seen  his  substantially-martial  form  on  the  Adclphi 
stage.  But  hush!  Hark!  Did  ye  not  hear  it  ?  Yes,  yes,  it  is, 
it  is  the  sound  of  the  bag-piix-s,  and  in  a  moment  thcpi|MTs  roll 
in,  escorting  four  stalwart  Highlanders,  who  look  strangely  real 
amongst  tho  ball-room  mil  miners.  They  don't  leave  us  for  an  instant 
in  doubt  as  to  their  object,  for  before  we  can  recover  from  the 
flutter  caused  by  t  heir  appearance,  they  start  on  a  Highland  fling 
with  all  the  matchless  ardour  of  their  race.  It  isa  stimulating  but 
prolonged  dance.  Henceforth  let  it  bo  known  as  the  I'as  de 
Quatre  ]la*.  And  now — aim  '  rii/in  je  le  tieiis,  re  Villington;  at 
last  the  Iron  Duke  appears.  He  issues  a  few  sharp,  short  orders, 
scowls  at  Cuiitiiiii  Aijlint-r,  forgives  him,  and  then  bundles  him- 
self and  everybody  else  off  to  the  battle-field.  I  have  seen  the 
l>nk<:  tif  Wellington. 

I  need  not  linger  over  the  last  distressing  scene — "  Hougomont, 
Morning  after  the  Battle  " — except  to  mention  that  all  of  us, 
including  even  tho  Duke  of  WELLINGTON,  turn  up  there,  and  that 
Colonel  Lanson,  having  lived  through  the  night  in  spite  of  a 
hundred  wounds — it  is  his  own  calculation  of  their  number — 
finally  dies  after  having,  by  a  gallant  lie,  ensured  the  future 
domestic  happiness  of  M  r.<.  Aylmer,  Captain  Aylmer  and 
Dorothy  Maine.  THB  VAGRANT. 

"DOWN  SOUTH." 

Jersey. — Goree  bears  a  certain  resemblance  to  what  Broadstairs 
probably  was  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  and  the  lobster 
lunch  at  its  hotel  recalls  pleasant  recollections  of  Swanage. 

Note. — Visitors  intending  to  return  by  a  roundabout  drive, 
taking  St.  Martin's  Church,  Rozel,  and  Prince's  Tower  en  route, 
will  do  well  to  ascertain  a  day  beforehand  that  a  conveyance  shall 
bo  at  their  disposal.  "What,  no  soap?  so  ho  died."  What,  no 
fly,  no  conveyance  of  any  kind?  No.  Not  so  much  as  a  go-cart 
or  a  wheel-barrow.  There  is  a  trap,  but  that,  on  this  occasion, 
has  been  ordered  beforehand. 

So  back,  by  traul,  to  St.  Helier's.  Visit  the  Law  Courts,  where 
the  proceedings  are  in  French ;  see  the  Jersey  collection  of  pic- 
tures representing  events  in  the  island's  history  ;  note  the  spot 
where  PIEKSON  fell  ;  inspect  the  principal  tobacconists ;  make 
purchases  ("  We  shall  have  to  pay  duty  on  everything," 
grumbles  Quiok-Sandboy,  who  has  purchased  a  few  boxes  of 
cigars),  and  finally  lose  ourselves  in  admiration  of  the  bronze 
statue  of  a  podgy  little  person  in  the  market  place,  representing 
GEORGE  THE  SECOND,  to  whom  the  grateful  islanders  erected  this 
memorial  in  return  for  his  princely  gift  of  three  hundred  pounds 
towards  defraying  the  cost  of  a  pier.  Fancy  the  generous 
monarch  endowing  a  Jersey  pierage  with  so  vast  a  sum  !  And  so, 
in  perpetual  memory  of  tnis  royal  munificence,  the  satirical 
Jerseyman  had  the  statue  gilt !  Perhaps  two-thirds  of  the  royal 
donation  paid  for  the  carving  and  gilding ;  while  the  annual 
interest  on  the  remainder,  carefully  invested,  defrays  the  annual 
cost  of  regilding. 

Still  rniiiiiiii!  Hut  the  Sandboys  are  not  to  be  done  by  a 
drenching,  not  they!  So  in  the  truo  Mark  Tapley  spirit,  with 
Quick-Sandboy  representing  young  Martin  Chuzzletrit,  we  take 
train  for  the  Western  side  of  the  Island.  We  pass  by  St.  A u bin's 
Day,  obtain  a  glimpse  of  St.  Brelade,  and  journey  to  Corbiere, 
where,  unable  to  refresh  our  corps  with  the  Mere,  we  limit  our- 
selves to  the  expression  of  "  our  distinguished  esteem."  and  .  .  . 
then  return  to  St.  Helier's,  to  the  genial  M.  Louis  QUINZB,  and 
heartily  do  we  welcome  the  dinner  he  has  prepared  for  us. 

Next  morning.  Alas!  Same  old  rain.  The  stormy  winds  are 
at  it  again.  The  fly  is  at  the  door,  and  our  barque  is  on  the  sea, 
as  our  cheery  Louis  QUINZE,  in  a  shining  vest  of  purest  white, 
waves  his  hand  to  us  ;  and  we,  echoing  his  genial  "An  reroir,"  de- 
voutly wish  that  we  could  remain  until  the  sea  should  be  calm  as 
the  proverbial  mill-pond.  But  il  faut  partir.  And  the  last  im- 
pression we  have  of  our  day-and-a-bit  in  Jersey  is  the  smiling 
face  of  the  hotel  manager,  as  he  gracefully  waves  his  hat  and 
cries  aloud,  "  Kn  rot 'turf!  'Urry  !  Trry !  Allr- !  En  route!" 
And  en  routf  it  is.  Au  rernir,  M.  Louis  QUINZE  I 

The  voyage,  ila  capo,  and  worse  than  ever. 

Eight  A.M.  "So  early  in  the  morning!"  But  for  a  cup  of 
coffee,  a  bit  of  toast,  a  mere  bite  and  sup,  we  are  unbreakfasted. 
That  line  of  BON  GUALTIF.R'S  occurs  to  me,  "  The  unbreakfasted 
turned  blue."  There  i.s  safety  (for  me)  only  in  the  cabin,  away 


TRIALS    OF    A    NOVICE. 

'  SousTBura  MUST  BE  WRONG.     THAT  's  THB  THIKD  TIME  RUNNING 
I  '  v  E  U.SED  THIS  CLUB  1 " 


From  my  fellow-men,  who,  as  it  is  Saturday,  are  represented  by  a 
crowd  of  jovial  holiday-makers.  How  bnef  is  the  merriment  of 
the  majority ! !  A  few  waves— a  few  big  rolls  (of  the  ship)  for 
braakfast,  and  the  crowd  melts  away,  disappears  to  mysterious 
depths  below,  leaving  on  deck  only  a  few  incapables  trying  to 
shut  their  eyes  to  the  stern  (and  for'ard)  facts.  "  Farewell  the 
tranquil  mind ! " 

Guernsey. —Comparative  calm,  and  grand  opportunity  for 
Breakfast.  What  a  breakfast !  It  is  ten  o'clock,  and  we  sit  down 
ansteadily,  but  determined,  or  perish  in  the  attempt.  Some- 
body has  ordered  "steak  and  potatoes,"  and  the  savoury  d:sh 
ias  just  been  brought  in.  I  suggest  to  steward  that  "sonie- 
aody  "  cannot  possibly  manage  an  entire  "  steak  and  potatoes  " 
all  to  himself.  Steward  agrees  with  me  :  so  will  the  steak  and 
potatoes  when  I  get  them.  Steward  makes  a  dashing  cut  at  the 
iteak,  much  to  the  astonishment  of  the  intending  consumer,  who, 
loweyer,  is  willing  to  own  that  it  is  more  than  he  can  tackle,  and 
so  it  is  handed  over  to  me.  Never  was  steak  so  succulent !  never 

re  potatoes  so  irresistible !  And  then — "  Some  chicken,  Sir?  " 
>rtamly.  Chicken  be  it.  "  And  to  drink  ?  "  Brandy  and  soda ! 
Then  we  are  giants  refreshed,  capable  of  enjoying  ourselves  on 
)oard  the  good  ship,  and  compassionating  the  miseries  of  others. 

The  sun  shines ;  weather  improves.  We  catch  sight  of  Wey- 
mouth :  then  The  Needles.  "  Here  we  are  again !  "  which  seems 
;o  be  the  rallying  cry  of  everyone  on  board  reappearing  from 
everywhere,  and  noic  thoroughly  enjoying  the  remaining  two 
lours'  sail  on  the  comparatively  tranquil  Solent  into  the  haven  of 
'Southampton  Water!  Even  the  Third  Sandboy  has  no  fault  to 
ind  with  anything  or  anybody ;  while  we,  the  Other  Two  Sand- 
joys,  are  of  opinion  (with  no  extra  charge),  that  there  are  not 
many  better  ways  of  spending  a  short  holiday  than  by  visiting 
Jersey,  and.  per  Jersey,  France,  then  back  again,  looking  in  at  all 
the  Channel  Islands  on  the  way. 

May  such  a  chance,  in  excellent  company,  be  ours!  gay  the 
Three  Sandboys. 


144 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [SEPTEMBER  25,  1897. 


THE    CAMBRIDGE    CREW    OF    1898. 

["  SANDOW,  the  strong  man,  has  offered  to  train  the  Cambridge  crew  on  his  own  system,  and  undertakes  to  turn  out  such  a  crew  as  has 

not  been  seen  for  years." — Daily  Paper.] 

OWING  TO  THEIR  MAGNIFICENT  DEVELOPMENT  AND  THE  CONSEQUENT  CROWDING  OF  THE  BOAT,  BUT  LITTLE  HEADWAY  COULD  BE 
MADE  DURING  THE  BADE,  AND  AT  THE  MOMENT  WHEN  OXFORD  WAS  PASSING  THE  WlNNING-POST,  THE  ABOVE  CllEW  WAS  LABORIOUSLY 
ENDEAVOURING  TO  "NEGOTIATE"  HAMMERSMITH  BRIDGE!  (OUR  ARTIST'S  APOLOGIES  ARE  DUE  TO  "BOW,"  WHO,  OWING  TO  THE 
EXIGENCIES  OF  SPACE,  IS  BUT  PARTIALLY  PORTEAYED.  IT  IS  ONLY  FAIR  TO  HIM  TO  SAY  THAT  IN  BEAUTY  AND  PHYSIQUE  HE  IS  IN  NO 
WAY  INFERIOR  TO  THE  REST  OF  THE  CREW  !) 


GOOD-NIGHT ! 

SEPTEMBER  clouds  the  skies  with  grey, 
And  cold  winds  shiver  through  the  rose  : 

Now  swift  and  swifter  every  day 

Draws  to  its  dark  and  destined  close. 

But  still,  though  wind  and  rain  be  keen, 

Still  are  the  swaying  branches  green. 

For  Summer  has  not  yielded  yet ; 

Still  in  stray  gleams  her  tresses  glow. 
But,  ah  !  with  tears  her  face  is  wet, 

She  lingers,  but  she  turns  to  go. 
And  on  the  air  her  whisper  dies — 
"  Farewell,  damp  earth  and  chilly  skies ! 

So  let  her  pass ;  the  shadows  fall, 

I  set  the  ruddy  fire  alight ; 
Its  glamour  flickers  through  the  hall, 

A  sober  silence  holds  the  night. 
And  as  I  sit,  dim  shapes  of  air 
Appear  and  fade  about  my  chair. 

And  once  again  I  pace  with  you 

Through  that  old  city,  grey  and  worn, 

Where  hopes  are  high  and  hearts  are  true, 
And  life  a  cheerful  Summer  morn ; 

In  that  serene,  familiar  place 

Where  first  I  met  you  face  to  face. 

Small  care  we  knew,  we  had  no  fear 
To  mar  our  joy  in  earthly  things. 

We  trembled  not,  we  did  not  hear 
The  beating  of  the  sable  wings 

Of  one  that  waited  on  the  brink, 

"  The  angel  of  the  darker  drink." 

Oh !  joy  too  fresh  and  pure  to  last, 
Great  days  of  friendship  swiftly  fled, 

Still  to  my  mournful  heart  made  fast, 
With  me  ye  live,  ye  are  not  dead ! 

The  hours  that  linked  us  man  to  man 

Outweigh  a  lifetime's  rounded  span. 

Two  years  are  gone,  your  welcome  voice 
Makes  music  still  to  dull  my  pain. 

You  smile  and  bid  my  heart  rejoice, 
Your  friendship  cheers  me  yet  again. 

I  call  you,  and  unchanged  you  stand, 

As  first  you  stood  and  clasped  my  hand. 


And  thus  recalled  at  will,  you  prove 
That  death  is  naught  and  fate  is  blind. 

Life's  brightness  in  your  eyes,  you  move 
Through  the  clear  chambers  of  my  mind. 

This  Nature  grants,  since  death  controls 

Our  breath,  but  not  the  world  of  souls. 

I  take  old  OMAR  from  his  shelf — 
He  knew  the  stars,  and  much  beside — 

"  Go,  live  your  life,  and  be  yourself. 
And  take  the  gifts  the  gods  provide." 

Thus  still  his  voice  strikes  on  our  ears 

Through  twice  four  hundred  rolling  years. 

I  shall  not  know  what  none  may  see, 
I  cannot  pierce  beyond  the  stars; 

I  let  the  whence  and  whither  be, 

Nor  beat  vain  wings  against  the  bars. 

But  blood  still  courses  through  my  veins, 

And  life  is  mine,  and  hope  remains. 

And  you,  oh !  friend  of  former  days, 
Be  with  me,  make  my  purpose  strong. 

Still  through  the  world's  encircling  maze 
Help  you  my  faltering  steps  along. 

The  last  flames  flicker,  fade  and  die, 

Good-night,  dear  friend,  but  not  Good-bye. 


MEMS.  FROM  THE  NOTE-BOOK  OF  AN 
IMPERIAL  TOAST-MASTER. 

So  many  things  to  do  that  I  must  bo 
more  methodical.  What  with  my  pictures, 
my  music,  my  preaching,  my  soldiering, 
my  naval  manoeuvring,  and  my  travelling, 
I  have  scarcely  time  to  arrange  my 
thoughts  about  speechmaking.  Shall  jot 
down  a  few  memoranda  to  assist  me  in  an 
emergency. 

Rhenish  Town. —  Lots  about  the  wine 
land,  and  what  my  family  did  in  the  past, 
with  the  usual  peroration. 

English  Fidd  Marshal.— Talk  about  the 
"  brave  English  Army."  It  does  as  well  as 
anything  else,  and  doesn't  commit  one  to 
anything.  Then,  after  five  minutes,  the 
customary  peroration. 


Launching  a  Ship. — Get  my  brother  to 
do  this  when  I  can.  Better  taste  to  let  my 
name  come  from  him.  Still,  I  can  com- 
memorate the  happy  event  at  a  distance. 
Mighty  power  on  the  sea.  Going  to  outdo 
Trafalgar.  This  kind  of  stuff  by  the  ton, 
and  then  the  common-form  peroration. 

Entertaining  a  Potentate. — Gush  to  any 
extent.  Call  him  a  War  Lord,  in  the  hope 
that  he  will  reply,  "  You  're  another."  As 
the  chances  are  he  won't  natter  me,  wind 
up  with  the  habitual  peroration. 

Annoying  Bismarck. — Easily  do  this  by 
patronising  him.  In  my  speech  announce 
my  gracious  intention  of  supplying  him 
with  a  pint  bottle  of  port,  or  half  a  dozen 
cambric  handkerchiefs,  or  a  Dukedom,  or 
something  of  that  sort.  When  I  have 
secured  two  or  three  laughs,  conclude  with 
my  old-fashioned  peroration. 

Any  occasion. — Safe  to  talk  about  my 
glorious  grandfather — leave  the  pater  out 
of  it — and  wind  up  as  before. 

And  now  what  is  my  peroration.  Well, 
I  need  scarcely  jot  that  down.  All  that  I 
have  to  remember  is  that,  whatever  I  may 
say  about  other  people  in  the  earlier  parts 
of  my  speech,  my  peroration  must  be  ex- 
clusively about  myself. 


ALWAYS  WITH  us. —  The  Gentlewoman 
Journalist,  on  most  intimate  terms  with 
Crowned  and  Semi-Crowned  Heads  of 
Europe  ;  knows  the  dressmakers  of  the 
better  halves  of  the  dynasties. 

The  Speculator,  who  has  bought  two 
thousand  shares  in  a  Klondyke  speculation, 
and  asks  you  to  lend  him  eighteenpence. 

The  Cleric,  without  a  living,  who  re- 
quires a  little  money  wherewithal  to  pur- 
chase a  parsonage. 

The  Damsel,  who  is  waiting  for  the 
return  of  her  fiance  from  South  Africa. 


ADVICE    TO    INTENDING    TOURISTS.  — 
Where  to  stay  ?    A.  At  home. 


OCTOBER  2,  1897.] 


i-rxcii,  on  TIIK  LONDON  CHAIIIYAIM. 


140 


\^~^ 


CUB    HUNTING. 

8t~u'.  Party  (hunting  by  doctor'*  orders':.    "  TELL  MB,   HUNTSMAN,  IN  THE  EVENT  OF  YOUR  Doos  NOT  KILLING  ANY  FOXES  THM 

MORNING,    WILL   YOU  GIVE  THEM  ANYTHING  TO   BAT  WHEN   THEY   GET   HOME!" 


ABROAD  IN  THE  AUTUMN. 

En  Rmttr,— On  board  the  Ostend  boat.  Talk  to  two  plump 
Prussians,  probably  tradesmen.  Polite  Prussians,  as  usual. 
They  have  crossed  from  Ostend  for  the  day,  and  have  spent  four 
hours  in  Dover.  But  they  have  seen  enough  to  be  able  to  point 
out  to  me  various  ridiculous  features  of  English  life.  The  soldiers 
wear  their  caps  on  one  side,  and  carry  walking-sticks,  n'untlr.r- 
bar!  Foreign  money  is  not  accepted  in  England.  The  streets  of 
Dover  are  very  narrow.  Schrecklich !  The  weather  is  bad,  the 
sky  is  grey,  Ac.,  Ac.  Also  the  German  army  is  the  finest  in  the 
world.  Jo.  K-.//I/  .' 

Ostend  is  potting  empty.  It  is  chilly  and  mournful.  One  can 
imagine  the  feelings  of  the  last  visitor  left  in  the  place  at  the 
end  of  September,  after  the  last  bather  has  bathed,  the  last 
child  has  been  dragged  from  his  playground  on  the  sand,  and  the 
last  locatairf.  has  been  blown  out  of  the  last  occupied  verandah. 

I  am  glnd  to  laave,  to  avoid  such  a  fate.  Man  in  charge  of 
hotel  omnibus  looks  like  a  German.  Am  wondering  what  Ian- 
gunge,  or  languages,  he  *|>eak*  least  unintelligibly,  when  he  asks, 
"  I"..!/*  nil,--  /'I  \urcmbfrg,  Monsieur?"  Ah,  that's  s!l  ri^lit. 
He  speaks  French.  "You  go  by  the  Vienna  express,"  he  ]•«•- 
marks,  on  arriving  at  the  station.  Oh,  well,  if  he  likes  to  talk  in 
English,  that  will  do.  So  change  to  English.  "Diet  ist  fi'ii-li 
Jhr  <j'ci>iirk?"  lie  asks  in  the  luggage  office.  Can't  stand  that. 
Both  of  us  can't  speak  three  languages  at  once.  Twice  three 
seems  like  six  Must  stick  to  one.  Gently  intimate  this  to  him, 
suggesting  French,  as  we  are  in  Belgium.  The  poor  man  is 
utterly  confused.  He  is  very  obliging,  he  wishes  to  be  polite, 
he  tiies  to  do  his  best,  but  he  is  worse  than  ever.  "  Je  rou.« 
apportrrai  rotrc  Gepiick,"  says  he,  "into  the  ScMafio(iqen."  I 
enter  the  station,  I  find  the  train,  and  soon  after  the  linguistic 
genius  follows  me.  "  JJier  ist  le  petit  tac  de  voyage,"  he  re- 
marks, with  a  pleasant  smile,  "  I  put  him  dans  le  Zug."  Which 
he  does.  As  the  train  starts  he  takes  off  his  cap  and  says,  "  Merci 
bien,  Monsieur,  gltirklirhe  Seise,  good-bye.  Mister." 

Nuremberg. — Eight  o'clock  m  the  morning,  steady  rain,  leaden 
sky,  factory  chimneys,  fog.  I  scramble  down  the  wet,  slippery 


steps  of  the  carriage,  and  find  myself  in  a  sooty,  Gothic  railway 
station.  That  is  the  last  straw.  Fifteen  hours'  journey,  slum- 
bers broken  by  bangs  and  whistles,  and  by  a  German  who  shares 
my  compartment  from  Cologne  to  Wiirzburg  (going  to  bed  at 
midnight  and  getting  up  at  five),  fatigue,  rain,  gloom,  factory 
chimneys,  fog--one  could  stand  them  all,  but  the  sooty  Gothic 
railway  station  at  eight  in  the  morning  unnerves  one  completely. 
The  bravest  might  weep.  Repress  a  rising  sob,  and  hurry  down 
into  the  crypt,  or  whatever  they  call  it.  Is  it  here  that  they 
bury  the  defunct  Xiiuibahndtrektort  Impossible  to  say.  It 
looks  like  it.  Hurry  along,  and  get  rap'dly  up  the  steps  into  the 
north  aisle,  and  out  into  the  churchyard.  Ah,  there  is  an  omni- 
bus, which  is  not  Gothic!  It  carries  me  quickly  away 

Arrive  at  the  hotel.  It  is  an  old  building.  Follow  a  waiter 
upstairs,  round  a  corner,  along  a  passage,  up  a  winding  staircase, 
round  another  corner,  and  along  another  passage.  He  opens  a 
door.  Perceive  a  dim  obscurity.  Enter,  feeling  my  way.  At 
last  make  out  in  the  gloom  that  it  is  a  rather  large  room,  with  a 
very  small  window,  facing  the  North,  the  walls  being  covered 
with  a  paper  as  nearly  black  as  possible.  What  little  light  might 
have  struggled  in  at  the  window  is  kept  out  by  a  black  mass 
opposite — a  sooty,  fortified  building,  rising  high  above  the  hotel. 
I  seem  to  recognise  it.  Of  course !  It  is  the  tower  of  our  Law 
Courts.  I  shall  never  get  away  from  them. 

Go  out  to  see  the  town.  It  is  still  raining  steadily.  A  morn- 
ing for  a  museum,  BAEDEKER  would  say.  So  go  to  the  Germanic 
Museum.  Whichever  way  I  go,  I  get  into  a  dim,  draughty 
corridor,  lined  with  plaster  casts  of  effigies  from  tombs.  Tombs 
are  bad  enough,  but  plaster  casts  of  them  are  worse.  The  whole 
museum  is  damp  and  draughty.  No  doubt  by  some  order  of  the 
police — an  ortspolizeil^he  Vorxhrift— the  windows  are  kept  open 
until  some  fixed  date,'  perhans  the  last  day  of  summer,  according 
to  the  calendar.  On  this  damp,  chilly,  November-like  day  the 
place  suggests  colds,  neuralgia  and  toothache.  Toothache!  In  a 
country  where  a  "Tooth-physician"  operates  in  a  "Tooth- 
studio"!  No,  thank  you!  So  go  back  to  the  shelter  of  the 
hotel.  Dinner  at  one,  or  even  at  half-past  twelve,  is  better 
than  that.  ROBINSON  THE  ROVER. 


VOL.    CXIII. 


146 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHAKIVARI. 


OCTOBER  ?,  1897, 


THE    FORLORN    HOPE. 

TaMha  (reading  to  herself  frcm  "  Times,''  Scpten.ber  22).   "  '  WOMEN  ARE  WANTED  (IN  CANADA)  AS  SERVANTS  OR  HELPS,  AND 

THEY  'l.E  ALSO   WANTED  AS   WlVfiS.'      HM — WELL I'LL   RISK    III" 


OCTOBER  2,  1897.1 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CIIARIVAIM. 


147 


7, 

^  ///•'•  ^7-«'||T-w-  <irn'*lF*'filflTl^lIW|iiniW^/''i  "')^VTjf*«"^-i'       '     r  •  *•«..  •*•' 

DURING  MR.  SPOFFIN'S  VISIT  TO  THE  HIGHLANDS,  HE  FOUND  A  DIFFICULTY  IN  APPROACHING  HIS  GAME — so  INVESTED  A  METHOD 

OF  SIMPLIFYING   MATTERS.      His    "MAKE-UP,"   HOWEVER,    WAS  SO  REALISTIC,    THAT  THE  JEALOUS  OLD  STAO  >  EARLY   FINISHED  HIM  I 


THE  MORE  THE  MERRIER  1 

(Extracts  from  the  Private  Ccrrttpamdence  of  a  Host'ss.) 

["The  cuitom  of  issuing  formal  invitations  for  one's  parties  was  given  up 
by  miny  of  the  best  hocuses  last  staion.'1— A  Lad\a'  Journal,  Sipt.  2I.J 

I. 

....  AND  I  think  it  "s  a  really  splendid  idea,  ETHEL,  and  1 
mean  to  act  on  it  at  once.  If  it  proved  successful  in  London,  it 
ought  to  answer  still  better  here  at  Dullington,  where  we  know 
overyone.  It  will  save  heaps  of  trouble  ;  sending  out  cards  does 
take  up  so  much  time.  So,  as  I  mean  to  have  a  garden-party  on 
Manday  week,  instead  of  writing  invitations,  I  've  just  sent  a 
paragraph  to  the  Dullington  Hentinfl.  saying  that  I  shall  be  at 
home  to  my  friends  on  that  day.  Of  course  this  plan  makes 
provisioning  rather  difficult ;  I  must  take  care  that  there  is 
enough  to  eat. 

II. 

There  was  quite  enough  to  eat,  ETRKL!  Just  fancy,  I  had  pro- 
vided tea  for  about  a  hundred  people,  and  only  Mrs.  SURLEIGH 
and  Miss  SPITFIRE  came — not  a  soul  besides!  Wasn't  it  pro- 
voking? And  it  was  so  awkward,  because  the  SURLEIGHS  happen 
not  to  be  on  speaking  terms  with  Miss  SPITFIRB  just  now. 

III. 

I  'm  more  annoyed  than  I  can  tell  you !  Lord  FITZAPRES 
accepted  a  special  invitation  in  the  kindest  way,  and  turned  up 
quite  punctually.  But,  just  as  we  were  sitting  down  to  dinner, 
there  was  a  ring  at  the  front  door,  and  in  walked  that  odious 
Mr.  BOUNDERBY,  accompanied  by  his  wife,  two  sons,  and  three 
daughters.  W  hen  I  gazed  at  them  in  blank  astonishment  Mr. 
BOUNDERBY  said  that  they'd  heard  about  my  new  plan  of  not 
sending  out  invitations,  and,  finding  that  Lord  FITZACRES  was 
coming  over  to  dine,  they'd  settled  to  join  our  party  I  I  was 
furinua,  ETHEL,  but  what  could  I  doP  When  I  said  that  my  j>I:m 
didn't  apply  to  dinner-parties,  all  the  BOUNDERBYS  roared  with 
laughter,  and  pretended  to  treat  it  as  a  joke.  Of  course  there 
wasn't  enough  dinner — though  there  was  enough  to  drink,  too 
much,  indeed,  for  Mr.  BOUNDERBT.  After  dinner  he  slapped 
Uncle  hard  on  the  back  (you  know  how  particular  he  is!)  and 


addressed  him  repeatedly  as  "  old  cock !  "  Naturally  Uncle  was 
disgusted,  and  remarked  audibly  that  JACK  seemed  to  have  picked 
up  some  very  queer  friends.  Finally,  JACK  lost  his  temper,  as 
well  he  might,  and  informed  the  BOUNDERBYS  that,  though  we 
weren't  going  to  send  out  invitations  for  pur  next  garden-party, 
they  might  consider  themselves  specially  invited — to  stop  away. 
Mr.  BOUNDERBY  used  horrid  language,  and  muttered  something 
about  "  paying  us  out,"  but  he  took  himself  and  his  family  off, 
which  was  the  great  thing.  But  it  was  a  most  dreadful  evening. 

IV. 

ETHEL,  I  'm  not  going  to  try  my  plan  any  longer,  and  when 
you  Ve  heard  about  my  second  garden-party,  you  won't  be  sur- 
prised. At  first  all  seemed  well,  about  eighty  guests  bad  come, 
including  some  of  the  smartest  people  in  the  county.  I  was  re- 
ceiving them  in  the  hall,  when,  to  my  amazement,  HOPKINS 
suddenly  announced  "  The  Ancient  and  Undivided  Order  of 
Hippopotamuses ! "  I  thought  he  bad  suddenly  taken  leave  of  bis 
senses,  and  rushed  to  the  front-door  where  h«  was  standing — and 
beheld  a  crowd  of  about  two  hundred  labourers,  dressed  out  in 
red  sashes,  waving  flags,  and  headed  by  a  brass  band !  Before  I 
had  time  to  ask  what  in  the  world  they  were  doing,  their  leader 
came  forward  and  delivered  a  speech.  He  said  that  he  and  his 
"  brethren  "  admired  my  democratic  spirit,  and  acted  on  my  "int 
in  the  spirit  in  which  it  was  offered.  They  had  been  doubtful 
where  to  hold  their  annual  beanfeast,  but  Mr.  BOUSDERBY  had 
explained  my  new  plan  to  them,  and  had  told  them  that  I  should 
be  delighted  to  see  them  all  at  my  garden-party.  He  added  that 
the  "  brethren  "  took  it  kind  of  me,  and  would  be  proud  to  drink 
my  'ealth!  As  JACK  is  a  member  of  the  Parish  Council,  we 
couldn't  afford  to  offend  them  ;  besides.  I  don't  think  they  would 
have  gone  if  we  had  told  them  to.  And,  so  my  dear  ETHEL,  they 
stayed  till  ten  o'clock  that  night,  by  the  end  of  which  time  they 
had  picked  all  the  flowers  and  fruit  in  the  garden,  smashed  six 
cucumber-frames,  and  trodden  the  lawn  bare.  Of  course  all  my 
friends  rushed  off,  and  I  expect  none  of  them  will  ever  come  near 
me  again !  Oh,  why  did  I  ever  try  this  abominable  plan  ?  Thanks 
to  Mr.  BOUNDHRBY'S  revenge,  I  am  the  laughing-stock  of  the 
whole  county.  Pity  your  unhappy  friend,  ETHEL,  and  be  warned 
by  her  fate  never  to  try  these  social  experiments. 


148 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  2,  1897. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE  TIME  SHALL  LEND  THEE  SPEED.' 

(Sketch  in  a  High  Wind  <m  the  Sands.) 


SCHOOL-DATS  IN  FRANCE. 

(A  Memory  recalled  by  "The  Martian.") 

I  HAVE  been  dipping  into  The,  Martian,  and  although  somewhat 
daunted  by  the  prefatory  futilities  of  the  supposed  naxrator,  and 
perplexed  by  the  planetary  complexities  of  the  story,  I  had  to 
succumb  eventually,  as,  indeed,  who  could  fail  to  succumb,  to 
the  breezy  and  delightful  charm  of  the  real  narrator,  our  lost 
friend^  GEORGE  DU  MAURIER.  The  beautiful  and  versatile  Tiarty 
Jossehn,  I  confess,  leaves  me  cold  where  the  fascinating  Trilby 
brought  the  tears  to  my  eyes.  It  is  the  incidentals,  the  quaint 
ind  gossipy  reminiscences,  the  flashes  of  insight  that  delight  one 
here  as  in  Trilby.  And  the  style  is  the  same,  the  simple,  un- 
iffected  style  of  a  clever  and  engaging  man  of  the  world  who, 
baving  lived  a  pleasant  life  amongst  pleasant  people,  possesses 
in  perfection  the  art  of  conversation  on  paper.  But  it  is  not  of 
the  story  itself  or  even  of  its  style  that  I  propose  to  speak.  The 
account  of  French  school-life  with  which  The  Martian  opens  has 
aroused  memories  of  certain  school-days  of  my  own  that  were 
passed  in  France,  and  it  is  on  this  subject  that  I  have  a  few  re- 
marks to  make. 

NEARLY  thirty  years  ago  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  spend 
some  months,  not  at  an  expensive  private  school  such  as  Mr. 
DU  MAURIER'S  Institution  Brassard  seems  to  have  been,  but 
at  a  large  French  Lycee,  or  public  school.  Although  I  was  a 
small  boy  I  had  been  at  a  big  English  school  (they  used  to  take 
us  there  at  a  very  tender  age),  and  I  had,  therefore,  some  ex- 
perience of  the  manners  and  customs  prevailing  airong  English 
schoolboys.  I  did  not  know  a  word  of  French,  and  I  cannot 
say  that  my  feelings  were  particularly  joyous  when  early  on  a 
cold  winter's  morning  I  found  myself  plumped  down  amongst 
some  thirty-five  little  French  boys,  who  formed  the  Hiiitirmr. 
>r  lowest  class.  Now  supposing  a  little  French  boy  had  found 
limself  amongst  thirty-five  little  English  boys,  I  doubt  whether 
le  would  have  received  a  very  kindly  treatment  at  their  hands. 
Even  a  freshly-arrived  little  English  boy  has  to  suffer  much 


from  his  school-fellows.  They  ask  him  if  he  has  a  sister,  and 
what  her  name  may  be,  and  they  receive  his  innocent  answer 
with  shouts  of  exultant  derision.  They  ask  him  if  his  mother 
is  fond  of  him,  and  receive  with  obdurate  incredulity  his  affirma- 
tive  answer.  They  make  his  life  a  burden  to  him  if  he  wears 
an  article  of  clothing  that  is  not  conformable  to  their  ideas  of 
correctness.  They  inquire  as  to  the  antecedents  of  his  father, 
and  express  contempt  if  the  parent's  calling  does  not  satisfy 
their  views  on  social  exigencies.  I  remember  two  very  small 
English  schoolboys  in  the  wordy  warfare  which  preceded  a 
iight,  each  shouting  alternate,  and,  no  doubt,  equally  false, 
imputations  011  the  other's  male  parent.  ''You're  the  son  of  a 
butler,"  said  one,  with  withering  scorn.  "And  you,"  said  the 
other,  with  a  fine  sense  of  repartee,  "  are  the  son  of  a  stationer." 
Then  they  proceeded  to  fisticuffs,  and  blacked  one  another's  eyes. 
For  one  English  boy  to  say  to  another,  "  Your  pater  's  a  cad,"  is 
always  the  last  dread  insult  which  immediately  precedes 
bloodshed. 

BUT  of  this  primitive,  barbarous  trait  there  was  no  trace 
amongst  my  French  companions.  The  little  English  boy  who 
had  come  amongst  them  was  treated  with  the  most  delicate 
Kindness  and  consideration.'  They  all  did  their  best  to  help 
him  on,  and  as  time  passed,  and  he  was  able  to  recite  his  page 
or  two  from  FENELON  without  a  mistake,  and  in  a  beautiful 
liearnais  accent  (the  Lycee,  by  the  way,  was  at  Pau),  they 
showed  as  much  pride  in  hjs  achievement  as  they  would  have 
shown  in  any  triumph  of  their  own.  The  little  boy  who  sat  on 
my  left  was  the  son  of  one  of  the  local  gendarmes.  He  wore  a 
blue  blouse,  confined  round  his  waist  by  a  leather  belt.  The  boy 
who  sat  on  my  right  was  the  soa  of  an  epicier,  and  wore  a  dress, 
which  amongst  English  schoolboys,  would  have  served  as  a  red 
rag  to  a  herd  of  bulls.  But  I  never  heard  any  of  the  other  boys, 
and  many  of  them  were  the  sons  of  gentlefolk,  and  were  well- 
dressed,  make  a  single  depreciatory  remark  to  either  of  these 
two  with  reference  to  the  status  of  his  father  or  the  fashion  of 
his  clothes.  I  can  still  remember  my  astonishment  at  the  utter 
absence  of  chaff  amongst  these  French  boys. 

ON  the  other  hand,  I  must  confess  that  on  certain  points  of 
manners  the  behaviour  of  these  boys  left  something  to  be  desired. 
In  the  class-room  they  all  spat  with  a  disgusting  frequency  and 
regularity.  At  the  end  of  the  morning  there  was  a  hateful  pool 
on  the  floor  at  the  feet  of  every  boy.  Organised  games  did  not 
exist.  Even  the  rounders,  of  which  Mr.  DU  MAURIER  speaks, 
were  unknown.  In  the  play-ground,  those  boys  who  were  not 
wandering  about  aimlessly  or  playing  at  horses,  were  always 
assiduously  engaged  at  marbles.  There  were  several  English  boys 
amongst  us,  and  I  remember  that  we  tried  to  introduce  cricket. 
But  we  failed  miserably,  chiefly,  I  think,  owing  to  the  size,  shape, 
and  weight  of  the  two  bats  supplied  to  us  by  a  local  carpenter, 
who  had  endeavoured  faithfully  to  base  himself  upon  our  descrip- 
tion of  the  implement.  We  gave  up  the  attempt  to  describe  the 
splice,  and  the  bats  we  obtained  were  perfectly  solid. 

EVERT  English  boy  was  credited  with  a  complete  knowledge 
of  all  the  details  of  boxing.  We  were  supposed  to  be  blood- 
thirsty and  terrible  fighters,  and  no  French  boy  of  our  own  size 
ever  willingly  engaged  in  an  altercation,  much  less  in  a  con- 
test, with  one  of  us.  I  still  seem  to  see  one  determined  fight 
between  two  of  our  French  companions.  They  rushed  at  one 
another  with  yells  and  shouts.  FOUQUE  seized  DUVAL  by  both 
his  ears,  whilst  DUVAL  clutched  at  FOUQUE'S  throat — he  could 
not  seize  his  hair  because  it  was  cropped.  Then  they  began  to 
shake  and  kick  one  another.  Upon  them  thus  shaking,  cling- 
ing, and  kicking  came  one  of  the  masters,  a  Pole,  of  immense 
size  and  forbidding  aspect.  He  seized  them  by  their  heads,  tore 
them  apart,  and  then  closed  his  arms  with  a  determined  sweep. 
I  can  still  hear  the  resounding  collision  of  those  two  little  bullet- 
heads.  There  was  no  further  fighting  on  that  day. 

WTE  were  day-boys — cxterncs,  and  so  far  as  I  remember  we  had 
to  be  at  school  for  the  day's  work  before  8  A.M.  Sometimes  we 
went  to  early  school  breakfast,  which  consisted  simply  of  a  great 
chunk  of  bread  and  a  bowl  of  coffee  or  cocoa.  Then  came  the 
mid-day  meal,  and  at  four  o'clock  a  servant  with  a  large  basket 
went  round  the  play-ground  distributing  more  chunks  of  bread. 
This  was  called  our  goiitcr.  Of  the  evening  meal  I  can  say 
nothing,  because  I  never  shared  in  it.  Thursday  and  Sunday 
were  whole  holidays,  and  on  those  days  we  used  to  see  the 
boarders  (internes)  dressed  in  their  kepis  and  their  uniform  coats 
parading  two  and  two  in  a  long  and  melancholy  line  under  the  eye 
of  an  usher.  Still,  we  enjoyed  ourselves,  as  boys  will  anywhere, 
and  our  enjoyment  reached  its  height  when  a  perfectly  baseless 


OCTOBKR  2,  1897  ] 


I'UNCII,   OR   THE    LnNDnX    ('HAHIVARI. 


Jio 


\ 


THE    SKETCHING    LESSON. 

IT    IH   AN   EXTRAORDINARY  THING  HOW  THE  ONLY  SPOT  WHERE  ANYTHING  OF  A  DECENT   VIEW  CAN   BE  OBTAINED,  ALWAYS   HAPPENS 
TO   BE   IN   THE    MIlilH.E   OF  A   KlVF.K   OR  M AKMI,    OR   IN  SOME  SPOT  EQUALLY  DIFFICULT  OF  ACCESS  I 


rumour  went  abroad  to  the  effect  that  the  English  hoys  had 
leagued  themselves  together  in  order  to  create  a  eoi«p  d'ftat  in 
the  school,  and  to  commit  I  know  not  what  atrocities  on  the  un- 
offending French.  Our  well-known  skill  as  boxeurs  added  an 
element  of  terror  to  this  report  . 

ONE  ot  the  English  boys  made  a  certain  amount  of  progress 
with  his  French,  for  after  being  at  school  three  weeks  he  wrote 
home  the  following  letter:  — 

MON  CHER  PAPA,  —  Quand  je  vous  ai  vn  pour  la  derniere  fois, 
vous  avez  dit  a  moi  que  lorsque  je  vous  ecrirai  tout  seul  une 
lettre  francaise,  vous  voulez  donne^  a  moi  dix  francs,  mais  je 
ne  les  attends  pas  pour  cette  lettre.  Nous  soinmea  tous  dans 
la  plus  bien  sante  et  nous  esperons  que  vous  etes  la  meme  chose. 
Nous  ninions  le  Lycee,  mnis  nous  n'aimons  pas  nous  lever.  Le 
pere  du  proviseur  est  mort  hier,  il  avait  cent  ans.  Je  vous  assure 
que  j'ai  ecrit  moi  meme  cette  lettre.  Adieu,  mon  cher  papa. 

VOTRE  FILS  CHERI. 

THE  ETHICS  OF  HOUSE-CHANGE. 


laid  down  ty  Peregrine  Nomad.) 

1.  WHEN  taking  a  new  domicile  accept  the  word  of  the  land- 
lord that  the  drains  are  in  first-rate  condition. 

2.  Buy  the  fixtures  of  the  late  tenant  at  a  price  ovor  and  above 
that  which  would  provide  brand-new  articles,  such  as  Venetian 
blinds,  linoleum,  stair-rods,  and  door-scrapers. 

3.  Always  warehouse  your  furniture  while  negotiations,  con- 
ducted on  the  Constantinople  or  Sultan  principle,  are  going  on 
between  yourself   and  the  landlord  ;    one,  two,  or  even  three 
house-agents  being  the  accredited  diplomatists. 

4.  Employ  an  experienced   decorator,  with  customary   assist- 
ants, and  especially  a  boy  with  dirty  hands,  to  hang  new  wnll- 


papers  and  execute  various  manosuvres  connected  with  paint  and 
whitewash.  If  possible,  have  a  good  piano  in  the  drawing-room 
for  the  artists  to  stand  upon  and  use  as  a  dinner-table  or  side- 
board for  pewter-pots. 

5.  Engage  a  reliable  charwoman  (with  or  without  assistant)  to 
thoroughly  purify  the  house  after  imploring  the  dustman  to  call 
for  the  leavings  of  the  late  tenant.  Mem. — These  personages 
must  be  mollified  with  bottled  beer  at  no  regular  but  very  fre- 
quent intervals.  They  are  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  in  unholy 
alliance. 

_  6.  Endeavour  to  get  the  latch-key,  about  which  the  diploma- 
tist house-agents  are  as  ignorant  as  the  Emperor  of  China,  they 
effecting  their  entrance  into  the  dwelling  by  some  burglarious 
method  through  the  kitchen  or  scullery  window.  The  late  tenant 
has  usually  taken  the  key  as  a  souvenir  of  his  sojourn. 

7.  Provide  for  the  late  tenant's  cat,  which  has  been  left  be- 
hind, and  refuses  to  quit  the  premises. 

8.  During  repairs  be  prepared  to  receive  calls  not  only  from  all 
the  local  tradesmen,  who  nave  been  forewarned  of  your  advent, 
but  also  greet  with  joy  the  rate,  water,  and  gas  collectors,  who 
won't  believe  that  you  are  not  the  late  tenant. 

9.  Overawe  the  local  postal  authorities  by  representing  your- 
self as  a  friend  of  their  chief  at  St.  Martin's  le  Grand,  and  con- 
strain them  into  not  bombarding  you  with  letters  and  circulars 
addressed  to  the  late  tenant. 

10.  Make  friends  with  the  police  of  the  neighbourhood,  and 
invite  them  to  tea,  supper,  or  breakfast,  with  your  temale  ser- 
vants on  arrival. 

Mem. — By  adopting  this  course  you  may  perhaps  prevent 
tramps  from  "dossing"  in  vour  yet  unoccupied  chambers.  A 
bottle  of  Scotch  or  Irish  whiskey  placed  in  a  convenient  cnp- 
board  materially  aids  the  researches  of  the  constabulary. 

11.  Lastly,    if   you  only   inhabit  a   convenient   dog-kenael— 
stick  to  it. 


150 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  2,  1897, 


INCORRIGIBLE. 

Visitor.  "  WELL,  MY  MAN,  I  EXPECT  IT  MUST  HAVE  COST  YOU  A  LOT  OF  MONEY  TO  PAINT  YOUR  NOSE  THAT  COLOUR  !  " 
Reprolate.    'An,  AN'  IF  Oi  CUD  AFFOOBD  IT,  Oi 'D  HAVE  IT  VARNISBSD  KOW!" 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Cavzlier  having  heard  thit  h*'s  Mistress  has 
accused  him  ofbiing  "so-and-so,"  cxpostulat  s 
leith  her. 

THE  leaves  are  turning  very  brown, 

The  year  is  waning  fast, 
The  heather  fades  upon  the  down, 

The  beechwood  's  thick  with  mast, 
The  acorns  strew  the  golden  glades 

Where  bracken  makes  the  glow  ; 
The  Winter 's  coming,  Autumn  fades ; 

And  we  are — "So-and-so." 

Amid  these  trees  with  shedding  leaves 

I  yet  can  hear  your  voice, 
Fresh  as  the  song  the  throstle  weaves 

To  make  mankind  rejoice. 
I  yet  can  trace  the  path  you  trod 

With  fairiest  of  "go." 
Your  dainty  feet !    It 's  passing  odd 

That  we  are — "So-and-so." 

That  little  tiff !    Did  I  begin 

The  words  that  caused  our  strife  P 
If  so,  give  me  the  cause  of  sin, 

And  make  me  hate  my  life ! 
The  days  of  Spring  cannot  return, 

Those  days  we  loved  to  know, 
Amid  the  fresh  and  fragrant  fern ; 

But  now  we  're — "  So-and-so." 

I  could  not  help  my  jealous  eyes, 
Nor  check  my  jealous  tongue. 

Did  you  my  love  so  much  despise, 
That  back  my  love  you  flung  ? 


No !    I  would  fain  believe  that  you 
Are  still  my  dearest  foe  ; 

That  you  know  I  am  loyal,  true, 
And  not  just — "So-and-so." 


REGRETS  EN  ROUTE. 

(By  our  Blase'  Contributor.) 

THAT  I  missed  so  many  chances  of  doing 
something  more  or  less  novel  on  the  con- 
tinent. 

That  I  did  not  try  a  cup  of  coffee  on 
Dover  Pier  before  starting  for  Calais. 

That  I  avoided  the  smoke-room  when 
the  steamboat  passed  through  a  choppy 
sea  mid  Channel. 

That  I  did  not  "  declare  "  something  to 
the  douane,  to  see  what  would  come  of  it. 

That  I  did  not  stay  a  day  at  St.  Pol,  and 
then  take  the  slow  train  to  Boulogne, 
stopping  an  hour  or  so  at  each  of  the 
interim  stations. 

That  I  did  not  go  to  a  third-rate  hotel 
on  the  wrong  side  of  the  Seine  to  find  out 
what  it  was  like. 

That  I  didn't  do  the  Bois  de  Boulogne 
in  a  fog. 

That  I  left  Paris  without  seeing  Pere- 
la-Chaise  in  a  Scotch  mist. 

That  I  did  not  ride  a  horse  in  Venice. 

That  I  neglected  to  spend  a  couple  of 
days  in  the  Catacombs  in  Rome. 

That  I  refused  to  picnic  on  the  top  of 
the  Tower  of  Pisa  under  an  umbrella. 


That  I  neglected  to  return  to  Marseilles 
by  a  cargo-boat. 

That  I  followed  no  system  at  Monte 
Carlo. 

That  I  went  out  in  summer  clothing  at 
Nice. 

That  I  took  the  train  up  the  Rhine  in- 
stead of  one  of  the  lumbering  steam-boats. 

That  I  overslept  myself  at  the  summit 
of  the  Rigi,  instead  of  catching  cold  under 
a  blanket. 

That  I  followed  the  system  of  Mark 
Tnpley  without  attempting  cheerfulness. 

Finally,  that  when  I  was  in  Japan,  I  did 
not  save  myself  further  boredom  by  per- 
sonally patronising  "  the  happy  despatch." 


A  SUDDEN  CHANGE. 

Fond  Mother  (to  her  Small  Eoy] :  — 

MY  gentle  pet !     Not  seven  1 
Among  the  gifts  of  heaven 

Priceless  I  rank  you  ! 
So  strong !     So  gentle  1 1     There ! 

My  sweet ! ! 

Let  go  my  hair  1 1 

Or  else — I  '11  spank  you  1 


APT  ECHO.  —  The  daily  papers  say, 
"  Captain  Lord  CHARLES  BEKESFORD  has 
been  promoted  to  be  Admiral."  "Admi- 
rable f "  says  Echo,  which  in  this  case  is 
vox  populi. 


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OCTOBER  2,  1M)7.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON   <  II A II I  V.MM. 


153 


AN    IDYLL. 

Ilemma.    "OH,    'AftRY,    HAIN'T  THIS  'EAVENLY  !     YOU'LL   PROMISE  TO  GIVE   ME   'AM 
SANDWICHES  ALWAYS,  WHEN  WB  'RE  MARRIED,  WON'T  YER  T"       'Arry.  "  'CORSE  I  WILL  ! ' 


PAX  A  LA  MODE. 

["Though  we  are  the  most  peace-loving  nation 
in  the  world,  our  army  is  almost  always  at  war 
somewhere."— Lord  Wolteley  at  Glasgow.] 

Monday. — Must  get  on  with  my  article. 
First   line  :     "  There   is   nothing  like— 
Of  course !     Interrupted  just  as  I  am  in 
the  mood.    Took  up  my  revolver  and  made 
a  night  of  it. 

Tuesday. — Rather  sharp  fighting.  Some- 
thing more  than  an  affair  of  outpost.  How- 
ever, came  through  it  without  a  scratch. 
Promotion  usually  tardy  ;  quick  just  now. 
Get  back  to  my  article — have  my  heart  in 
the  subject.  "  There  is  nothing  like — 
Again  1  There  go  the  bugles!  In  for  it 
until  to-morrow  1 

HV./n<x,/<iy.  —  Close  shave  yesterday. 
Nearly  knocked  over  by  that  last  rush. 
However,  came  out  of  it  all  right.  Now 
once  more  to  that  article — quite  my  view 
of  the  subject.  "  There  is  nothing  like-; — 
Bang !  Same  old  game  I  Sabre  and  pistol ! 
Well,  it's  good  fun! 

Thursday. —  Yes;  really  precious  hard 
work.  Gave  a  good  account  of  them,  for 
all  that.  Those  star  shells  first-rate. 
Could  gee  the  beggars  coming,  and  pot 
them.  But  must  get  back  to  my  article. 
Pressed  for  time.  No  doubt  about  it. 
"There  is  nothing  like —  Provoking! 
There  they  go  again !  Believe  tha  risings 
are  subsidised  by  a  rival  publisher! 

Friday. — Lost  a  goodish  number  last 
night.  Surgeons  have  their  work  cut  out 


for  them.  Well,  they  will  be  better  em- 
ployed than  in  drilling  their  orderlies.  And 
now  for  my  article.  "  There  is  nothing 
like "  Again  they  go!  Bugles!  An- 
other brush  with  the  enemy ! 

Saturday. — First-rate  fighting  yesterday. 
But  now  1  will  do  my  article.  Everything 

ready.  "  There  is  nothing  like "  Again  ! 

Shot  and  shell !  Off  we  go  I 

Sunday.- — No  fighting  to-day.  At  least, 
there  shouldn't  be.  Now  to  my  opinion, 
"  There  is  nothing  like  peace."  Crash ! 
Bang !  Wanted  again !  "  There  is  nothing 
like  peace."  Quite  so,  and  to  round  it  on 
haply,  write  it  thus,  "  There  is  nothing  like 
peace — anywhere ! " 


OUE  BOOKTNO-OFFICE. 

A  FLAVOUR  of  the  peculiar  humour  of 
DICKENS,  and  a  spice  of  the  melodramatic 
power  of  WILKIE  COLLINS  are  to  be  found 
in  \V.  W.  JACOBS'  two  stories,  The  Skipper's 
II '"mug  and  Tin-  /frm/-»  Mini'*  Si- 1  runt, 
respectively,  bound  together  in  one  book, 
recently  published  by  PEARSON,  Ltd.  The 
first  of  these  is  in  the  deligTitful  vein  of 
the  same  author's  Many  Cargoes.  But, 
amusing  a«  it  is, — there  ore  plenty  of 
"  laughs  "  in  it,  a  rare  quality  in  any  author 
now-a-days, — it  would  have  been  con- 
siderably improved  had  it  been  less  evi- 
dently spun  out.  The  second  story  seems 
as  if  it  had  been  originally  intended  to  be 
the  exciting  prologue  of  a  startling  romance 
which  the  author  had  suddenly  found  him- 


self disinclined  or  unable  to  finish.  Mr. 
JACOBS  should  continue  it,  and  give  us  the 
thrilling  story  of  Tin-  I  •  •  I  I'iamond,  or 
whatever  title  he  liked  to  give  the  con- 
tinuation of  the  tale.  Anyhow,  every 
reader  will,  like  the  recipient  of  *<un 
Welter's  artistic  love-letter,  "wish  as  there 
were  more  of  it."  THE  BARON  us  B.-W. 


KINGIIORN  AN'  LUNNON. 

(A  Comparixm.) 

I  'UK  -iclits  we've  seen  1    The  punda  ray  wife 

Has  -.pent  instead  o'  bunkit! 
Hut  eh  I  we  're  back  in  bonny  Fife, 

Sae  let  the  Lord  be  tbankit  I 
An'  LunnonP     \\eel,  ye  ken,  it's  gay 

An'  busy,  nicht  an  morn,  man, 
An'  there  s  s  pickle  fouk — but  eh  I 

It  's  no — it 's  no  Kinghorn,  man. 

\'<-  '11  wanner  on,  an'  on,  an'  on, 

Through  miles  an'  miles  o'  men,  man, 
An'  yet  in  a'  the  crood  like  yon 

There 's  a  de'il  a  face  ye  'U  ken,  man. 
.Val    Lunnon's  oot  the  warl',  ye  see, 

For  look  ye,  I  "11  be  sworn,  man, 
Sic  unco  things  could  never  be 

In  ceevilised  Kinghorn,  man. 

The  shops  P    Ou,  aye,  there 's  shops  indeed, 

But  faith,  they  're  rale  unhaundy : 
Ane  keeps  yer  butter,  ane  yer  breid, 

An'  yet  a  third  yer  braundy. 
Noo  here,  gin  ye  be  wantin'  oucht, 

Boots,  butcher's  meat  or  corn,  man, 
Shag,  bonnets,  brocks,  they  '11  a'  be  boucht 

Thegither  in  Kinghorn,  man. 

The  fashions  P    Weel,  ye  ken,  we  saw 

A  wheen  o'  giddy  hussies 
Paradin'  in  their  duddies  braw 

Upon  the  cars  an'  'busses. 
But  dinna  think  owre  much  o'  yon, 

For  sure  as  I  am  born,  man, 
For  style,  it 's  no  a  patch  upon 

Our  floo'er  show  at  Kinghorn,  man. 

An'  then  sic  ignorance !    Losh  me, 

I  'in  feared  ye  'II  no  can  (loot  it, 
But  nane  kent  whaur  Kinghorn  mioht  be, 

Nor  onything  about  it. 
'Tis  awfu'!     Yet  'twad  seem  to  ca' 

For  peety  mair  than  scorn,  man, 
For  mind  ye,  'tisna  gi'en  to  a' 

To  live  aboot  Kinghorn,  man. 


ADDITION  AND  CONSIDERABLE  SUBTRAC- 
TION.— There  is  a  very  pleasant  club  at 
Earl's  Court  in  the  gardens,  known  to  most 
Londoners  as  The  Old  Welcome  Club, 
within  whose  hospitable  precinct*  the 
charms  of  Maitre  DAN  GODFREY'S  band, 
making  sweet  music  in  a  pavilion  of  the 
Earl's  Court  Exhibition  Gardens,  can  be 
thoroughly  and  calmly  enjoyed.  Of  course, 
every  visitor  there  is  welcomed  with  a 
genuine  old  welcome.  But  supposing  the 
letter  '•  C  "  were  prefixed ! !  What  a  changa 
there  would  be !  Imagine  the  delights  of 
a  "  Cold  Welcome  Club ! "  Fancy  what  the 
"  Strangers'  Room  "  in  such  a  club  would 
IK-  like !  And  with  what  freezing  politeness 
the  members  would  greet  one  another! 
"  The  Icicles,  or  The  Cold  Welcome  Club," 
— that  should  be  the  title.  Everyone 
wearing  his  hair  a  la  cheveux  de  freeze. 
"  Chili "  pickles  only  allowed  at  luncheon, 
and  of  course  nothing  but  cold  meat*, 
birds,  and  vegetables.  At  7.30  P.M.,  Club 
dinner  joint,  "  The  Cold  Shoulder." 


THE  SORT  or  FRENCH  LEAYI  WE  SHOULD 
APPRECIATE. — Leave  us  alone. 


154 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  2,  1897. 


OCTOBER  2,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


:55 


Hi  !      WHIP    BEHl.Mi  !  " 


"YAH  !    'E  AIN'T  GOT  KO.NE  !" 


THE  NEW  DRAMA  AT  OLD  DRtRT. 

FIRST  and  foremost  congratulations  to  Messrs.  RALEIGH  and 
HAMILTON,  authors,  secondly,  to  Mr.  ARTHUR  COLLINS,  Managing 
Director  of  Old  Drury,  and  then  to  the  company  generally  on  the 
success,  thoroughly  deserved,  of  The  White  Heather.  "Come 
heather!  Come  heather!  Come  heather!"  and  that  the  public 
responds  to  the  invitation  is  evident  from  the  crowded,  almost 
over-crowded  state  of  the  house,  which  is,  nightly,  quite  a  "con- 
gested district." 

The  melodrama  is  remarkable  for  three  things.  First,  its 
capital  dialogue  (when  not  melodramatic)  ;  s?cond7y,  for  the  ap- 
pearance of  Mr.  HEXHY  NEVILLE  as  a  smiling  villain  of  the 
yellowest-reddest  dye ;  thirdly,  for  the  excellent  musical- 
histrionic  assistance  of  Mr.  GLOVER  in  the  orchestra ;  and 
lastly,  for  the  admirable  acting  of  Mrs.  JOHN  \VOOD,  which  is 
beyond  all  praise.  Were  all  the  iron-work  machinery  to  collapse 
(as  in  fact  one  night  it  did,  and  the  theatre  had  to  be  closed), 
the  drama  could  go  on,  as  its  mainstay,  its  chief  support,  is 
WOOD.  Subtract  Mrs.  JOHN  WOOD,  and  pop  goes  this  melo- 
drama. When  Mrs.  WOOD,  at  the  end  of  the  Battersea  Park 
scene,  takes  the  heroine  to  her  arms,  to  the  intense  delight  of 
entire  audience,  and  after  seating  her  in  her  carriage,  delivers  a 
speech  on  the  domestic  virtue  of  woman,  finishing  up  by  an 
appeal  to  everyone  as  to  "  what  is  the  proper  place  for  woman  P 
and  answering  her  own  question  by  shouting  to  her  coachman, 
"Jlome'."  there  is  universal  cheering  for  the  space  of  nearly 
two  minutes,  during  which  time  "all  mortal  shapes  are  lost  in 
gloom,"  for  the.  houss  is  enveloped  in  Cimmerian  darkness, 
and  only  the  shadowy  form  of  the  musical  magician,  Mr. 
GLOVER,  is  faintly  visible,  as,  baton  in  hand,  he  urges  his  wild 
demon  orchestra,  who  are  struggling,  with  all  their  powers  of 
wind  and  string,  against  the  deafening  applause  that  only  sub- 
si. Irs  when  the  bright  gas-light  once  again  illumines  the  stage, 
showing  a  new  scene,  and  the  audience,  hushed  unwillingly  into 
an  expectant  calm,  find  themselves  gazing  on  the  heavily-fur- 
nished, crimson-dyed  abode  of  the  supremely  wicked  nobleman, 
the  scowling,  smiling  NEVILLE,  and  prepare  themselves  for  in- 


trigue that  is  to  grow  more  and  more  diabolically  interesting 
every  minute. 

Alas!  Poor  Mr.  HENRY  NEVILLE,  the  once  gay,  chivalric, 
breezy  cavalier!  has  it  come  to  this?  that,  in  becoming  a  wily 
aristocrat,  he  is  forced  to  get  himself  severely,  yet  popularly, 
disliked  by  a  Dmry  Lane  audience,  within  sound  of  the  curtain- 
raising  bell  of  the  Olympic  Theatre,  where  once  he  was  cheered 
to  the  echo  as  the  long-suffering  ticket-of-leave  man  I  And  what 
a  finish  to  a  glorious  career !  To  be  attired  in  a  diver's  dress, 
to  have  his  mobile  features  and  fiery  eyes  entirely  hidden  under 
a  diver's  helmet  about  the  size  of  a  huge  comic  pantomime  head, 
which  has  not  even  the  stupidly  fixed  humorous  (or  otherwise) 
expression  that  a  pantomime  mask  is  condemned  in  perpetuity 
to  wear,  and  thus  attired  he  is  let  down  into  the  depths  (what  • 
"  let  down  "  it  is !).  there  to  struggle  with  ropes,  but  with  no  line* 
to  say,  t  j  grope  about  in  an  aimless  kind  of  way,  to  be  attacked 
by  another  diving  demon,  his  very  counterpart,  as  humorous!} 
attired  as  himself,  and  finally  to  have  his  wind-pipe  (that  is,  the 
pipe  through  which  the  wind  is  supplied  to  the  diver)  cut,  and 
to  fall  without  a  last  dying  speech,  without  a  word,  without  a 
curse,  for  no  expression  of  hate  or  of  any  other  sentiment  can  be 
sejn  under  that  porpoise-like  diver's  helmet  I  To  think,  too,  that 
this  melancholy  end  should  raise  just  an  audible  titter  among 
the  audiance,  which  might  even  swell  into  a  guffaw  were  it  not 
that  the  man  in  theNnght  place,  'yclept  Mr.  GLOVER,  ener- 
getically comes  to  the  rescue,  and  commanding  a  great  banging, 
and  bci  ming,  and  whacking,  and  hurrying  ana  scurrying  up  ana 
down  the  octaves,  drowns  all  other  sounds,  and  gives  to  the 
expiring,  and  perspiring,  HKNRY  NEVILLE,  a  final  blow,  with,  as 
it  were,  the  big  drum-stick,  and  there's  an  end  of  the  Wicked 
Nobleman  1 

How  the  boat  which  brought  poor  HENRY  NEVILLE  ascends 
Heavenwards  (quite  a  wonder  of  the  deep!);  how,  in  another 
scene,  "Boulter's  Lock"  walks  off  bodily  by  itself;  how  the 
missing  man  is  found  by  a  reprobate  white-haired  solicitor ;  how 
Miss  BEATRICE  LAMB  just  escapes  having  a  very  good  part  as 
female  villain,  but  is  cruelly  nipped  in  the  bud  by  the  authors, 
who  found  they  had  no  more  time  to  spare  ;  how  nice  Miss  PATTIK 


U6 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  2,  1897, 


"GUNNING    WITH    A    SMELL    DOG." 

(B,  Jonathan,  Esq.,  having  missed  a  Hare,  the  Dog  drops  to  the  shot.) 

B.  J.  (scornfully).  "CALL  THAT  A  GOOD  DA  wo?  I  RECKON  HE 
AIN'T  WORTH  CANDY!  WHEN  THE  BEAST'S  SITTING,  HE  STANDS 
AND  LOOKS  AT  HIM  ;  AND  WHEN  HE  RUNS  AWAY,  HE  LIES  DOWN  AND 

LOOKS  AT   ME  !  " 


BROWNE  looks  in  a  peculiarly  unobtrusive  white  knickerbocker 
cycling-costume ;  how  self-effacing  is  the  unfortunate  heroine, 
Miss  KATE  RORKE,  with  not  much  to  say  and  still  less  to  do  ;  how 
life-like  is  the  Stock  Exchange  scene  ;  how  supremely  good  is  the 
very  tall  lover,  Mr.  DAWSON  MILWARD,  whose  motto  should  he, 
"  Love  me  little,  love  me  long  "  ;  how  striking  is  the  performance 
of  the  diving  Myles-na-Coppaleen  sort  of  t'other  lover,  Mr. 
ROBERT  LORAINE  ;  how  excellently  played  are  all  the  minor  parts, 
it  is  impossible,  within  these  limits,  to  recount.  But  thinking 
over  it,  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  what  the  fate  of  this  melodrama 
might  have  been  but  for  the  vigorous,  timely,  and  tunely  assist- 
ance of  Hand-and-Glover  in  the  Orchestra,  and  the  quite  in- 
valuable services  of  Mrs.  WOOD  on  the  stage.  Everybody  will 
flock  to  the  Lane  to  see  the  WOOD. 


SKETCHES  IN  LONDON. 

II. — IN  MY  LADY'S  CHAMBER. 

MR,  Mid  Mrs.  WILTON  have  been  married  six  years ;  they  are  quite  de- 
vo'ei  to  rne  another ;  there  are,  however,  two  ."mall  clouds  on  the 
matrimonial  horizon.  One  is  on  Mr.  WILTON'S  sid',,  a  faful  but 
determined  predilection  fir  occasionally  passini  the  grea'er  part  of 
the  night  in  talking  Socialism  with  a  Fabian  friend — a  recreatimi  to 
which  his  wife  entertains  an  ^insurmountable  objectwn;  while,  on  the 
other  hinl,  Mrs.  WILTON  has  a  violent  lut  as  yet  ungratified  desire 
tn  hold  a  stall  at  a  Fancy  Fair  ;  the  one  amusement  against  which 
Mr.  WILTON  has  a  roo'.ed  prejudice.  The  scene  opens  at  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning  in  Mrs.  WILTON'S  Louis  Seize  bedroom.  It  is  one  of  \ 
the  occasions  mi  which  Mr.  WILTON  has  ignored  her  disapproval  of 
his  Socialistic  views.  Feigning  a  reverie,  and,  with  what  she  calls 
Us  "  i*ri  a>ina  absent  glare,"  he  had  fled,  vaguely,  to  the  house  of 
M>e,  demo-ratic  friend.  She.  has  sl'pt  comfortably  since  9 '30,  and  on 
being  awke  by  the  sound  rf  the  hall-door  at  three,  she  rises  hastily, 
fresh  for  the  discussion.  She  is  seated  on  a  curved  sofa,  inapiitk- 
flowered  dressing-gown,,  her  golden  ha>r  in  a  plait  tied  with  black 
ribbon,  pretending  to  knit  something  undecided  for  her  little  boy.  By 
the  rose-shaded  light  she  wears  an  expression  pfholy,  saint-like  re"*i<r- 
naiion  that  is  decidedly  unsuitid  to  her  rather  babyish  feature*.  Mr. 
WILTON  enters  very  softly  in  evening  dress.  He  starts  m  seeing  her. 
regretting  that  he  lias  put  back  his  watch  two  hours  on  the  chance  of 


her  being  awake,  when  he  notices  h'.r  little  Sevres  clock  ticking  rather 
ftfroachfully  on  the  table,  side  by  side  with  a  circular  about  t/ie  Home 
for  Desirving  Cats,  and  also  a  list  of  the  Lady  Patronesses  rf  the 
llazaar  to  be  held,  ihortty,  at  the  Victoria  Ball.  Mr.  WILTON  is 
about  a  year  older  than  his  wife,  fair  and  boyish-looking.  His  name 
is  THEODORE  ;  hers  is  MURIEL. 

Theodore  (with  self-reproach  concealed  under  assumed  anger). 
MURIEL!  what  on  earth  have  you  been  doing? 

Muriel  (sweetly).  Waiting  far  you,  dear.  As  I  couldn't  sleep, 
I  thought  it  best  to  do  a  little  work  for  Jiaby. 

Tln'iitlorc  (steeling  himself).  This  is  absurd — childish  I  How 
often  have  I  requested  you  not  to  sit  up  ?  Go  to  bed  at  once ! 
(He  yawns.) 

Muriel.  Oh,  THEODORE!  do  you  really  think  it  worth  while? 
Baby  will  expect  me  to  play  with  him  when  he  comes  down  at 
seven.  And  it  is  rather  late — isn't  it? 

Theodore  (bursting  into  an  explosion,  prepared  beforehand  in 
case  of  a  scene,  with  a  view  to  obtaining  his  liberty  once  for  all — 
but  not  waiting  for  his  cue).  There!  That's  the  way!  That  is 
how  wives  make  their  husbands  wretched  with  these  continual 
reproaches — 

Muriel  (apologetic).  I  beg  your  pardon,  THEODORE.  I  thought 
it  would  seem  rude  not  to  notice  you  coming  in.  I  really  only 
said  it  was  late  out  of  politeness. 

Theodore.  Then  you  carry  your  manners  to  excess. 

Muriel  (in  a  self-denying  tone).  It  doesn't  matter,  my  sitting 
up  a  little  late.  I  knew  you  were  happy.  Besides,  I  should  have 
had  time  to  rest  a  little  in  the  day  before  your  mother's  dinner, 
if  the  CLAVEHINO  girls  weren't  coming  to  lunch.  However,  never 
mind,  dear.  If  your  mother  says  I  'm  pale,  I  can  always  say  I 
have  a  headache — -can't  I  ? 

Theodore  (touched  and  disarmed,  but  determined  to  finish  the 
explosion).  You  know,  MURIEL,  it  is  just  that  constant  fault- 
finding, these  scenes,  that  drive  a  man  to  prefer  other  hearths  to 
his  own.  [Takes  flower  out  of  his  coat. 

Muriel  (in  surprised  voice).  Really!  I  thought  you  dined  at 
Mr.  RALSTON'S  ;  and  I  'm  sure  his  hearth  is  perfectly  hideous — 
the  most  horrible  tiles,  representing  nursery  rhymes.  I  can't 
think  why ;  perhaps  because  he  's  a  democrat,  or  vegetarian,  or 
something.  However,  if  you  enjoyed  it/- — 

Theodore.  I  didn't  enjoy  it.  (Becoming  suddenly  apologetic, 
and  losing  ground.)  I  got  into  a  discussion,  dear.  I'm  sorry  if 
I  was  late.  (Pause.)  Look  here  !  You  shall  have  those  furs  you 
wanted.  Would  you  like  them? 

Muriel.  Oh!  no.  I  couldn't  take  them.  Thank  you  very 
much,  dear,  all  the  same.  I  'm  having  my  chinchilla  done  up. 

Theodore  (rather  relieved,  mildly).  Oh  !  you  'd  better  have  them. 

Muriel.  THEODORE,  if  you  really  want  to  please  me — Lady 
GWENDOLINE  has  written  to  me  again  about  the  bazaar — 

Theodore  (frowning).    What  bazaar?    I  never  heard  of  it. 

Muriel  (pathetically  and  appealingly) .  For  the  Home  for  De- 
serving Cats !  They  want  me  to  hold  a  stall — a  flower-stall.  Do 
let  me  !  Dear  THEODORE  ! 

Theodore  (firmly).  No!  There  I  draw  the  line!  I  have  always 
had  a  particular  dislike  to— to  my  wife  going^  about  begging 
people  to  buy  from  her — selling  to  strangers !  Never ! 

M' uriel.  But  I  wouldn't,  really — I  wouldn't  sell  a  tiling,  dear! 
And  it 's  for  such  a  good  charity.  I  was  brought  up  to  be  kind  to 
animals.  The  whole  thing  is  simply  to  amuse  the  cats. 

[^1  tear.     THEODORE  wavers. 

Theodore.  And  a  fancy-dress,  I  suppose  ? 

Muriel.  Well,  dear,  everyone  's  going  to  wear  them.  And  I  'm 
afraid  I  should  attract  attention  if  I  wore  an  ordinary  dress.  I 
don't  think,  myself,  it 's  very  wise  to  single  oneself  out  for  remark 
in  that  sort  of  way  in  a  public  place — do  you  ?  Mamma  was  always 
so  particular  about  anything  of  that  sort,  so  perhaps  I'm  over- 
sensitive about  it.  And  it's  a  very  simple  little  dress.  Just  a 
little  skirt ,  you  know.  No  train  or  anything  showy. 

Theodore  (tired).  I  disapprove  strongly,  MURIEL. 

Muriel  (kissiiiq  him,  delighted).  Oh!  thank  you,  dear!  11<>\r 
sweet  of  you !  It  is  so  nice  to  feel  one  's  doing  a  little  good  in 
the  world.  Besides,  of  course  I  wouldn't  hold  any  stall  but  a 
flower-stall — that 's  so  different.  Lady  GWENDOLINE  will  be 
pleased.  Dear  THEODORE  !  And  now,  promise  me  never  to  go  and 
talk  socialism  with  Mr.  RALSTON  again  ! 

Theodore  (asleep).  Never!    I  swear  it!  [Curtain. 


PAT'S  TRUE  BREAKFAST  CHRONOMETER. — "Sure,  me  stomach 
in  the  early  morning  is  as  good  as  a  watch,  to  me.  I  always  know 
when  it  wants  '  something  to  ate.'  " 


THE  CBY  OF  THE  COLONIES. — York,  you  are  warted  ! 


OCTOIER  9,   1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


1.07 


TRIALS    OF    A    NOVICE. 

Srovm.  "1  WISH  I  HAD  THE  MORAL  COURAGE  TO  oo  HOME!" 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

In  Kedar's  Tents  (SMITH,   ELDER)   is  a  I 
story  by  which  Mr.  MEKIUMAN  more  firmly  I 
establishes  a  still  fresh  but  brilliant  repu-  | 
tation.     It  bustles  along  through    scenes  [ 
full  of  local  colour,  this  time  the  palette 
supplied  from  Spain,  a  country  he  seems  I 
to  know  intimately.     The   tale  is   full  of 
adventure,   and,  happily,  it  is  carried  on 
by    real   men   and    women.      Of   the   two 
sexes  the  author  is,  in  this  instance,  more 
successful  with  his  men  than  his  women. 
Padre  Concha,  the  priest,  who  ought  to 
have   been   a    soldier ;     Conception    Vara, 
the  light-hearted  guide  ;    General  Vincent, 
the  Royalist  leader  ;  and  Fred  Conyngham. 
the  hero  of  the  book,  who  lounges  in  and 
out  of  direful  dilemmas,  are  each  in  their 
diverse  ways  admirable.     Conyngham,  by 
the  way,  reminds  my  Baronite  of  an  old 
and  dear   friend,   FREI>   BURNABY.     It   is 
doubtless  accidental ;    but  if  Mr.   MERRI- 

VOL.  cxm] 


MAN  had  chanced  to  have  been  intimately 
acquainted  with  the  gallant  horseman  of 
Khiva,  the  unconventional  Colonel  of  the 
Blues,  suspicion  would  become  a  certainty. 
It  is  part  of  the  coincidence  that  FRED 
BURNABY  spent  some  months  in  Spain 
fighting  for  DON  CARLOS. 

In  iS'/iafcspeore  the  Boy  (CnATTo  AND 
WiM>rs|,  Mr.  ROI.FE  has  pursued  a  very 
ingenious  plan.  An  earlier  author,  in  an 
analogous  dilemma,  took  his  fence  at  a 
stride.  "  Snakes  in  Iceland  "  was  the  head- 
ing of  his  chapter.  "  There  are  none, 
comprehended  its  contents.  Mr.  ROLFS, 
proposing  to  record  what  is  known  of  SHAK- 
SPEARE'S  boyhood,  might  honestly  have 
fulfilled  his  task  by  writing,  "Nothing." 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  produces  a  pleasant, 
picturesque  work  of  over  200  pages,  lim- 
ning a  vivid  picture  of  daily  life  at  Stratford 
during  the  term  of  SHAKBPEARE'S  boyhood. 
Having  done  this,  all  that  remains  is  to 
surmise  that  "little  WILLIAM"  saw  this, 
or  must  have  heard  that,  and  there  you 


are.  There  are  many  illustrations,  in- 
cluding .1  portr.ir  ,ntly  buy,  which 
may  (or  may  not)  be  reproduced  from  a 
photograph  tukou  as  u  we  may  imagine 
young  WILLIAM  wending  his  way  to  the 

.I  in  mar  School  for  the  tir*t  time  on  u  M   ] 
morning  in  l-"i7l ." 

Mr.  II.  (i.  WELLS  should  have  given 
l.iin  ,•!!'  more  time,  and  thought,  for  the 
ium-iit  of  a  very  original  idea.  Thr 
Invisible  Man  (published  by  PEAII.-UN, 
Limited)  is  amusingly  written,  and  here 
and  there  its  reader  will  pause  to  indulge 
in  audible  gulf.iw  or  irresistible  chuckle. 
But  the  fanciful  tale  is  not  well  worked  out 
the  interest  soon  ceases,  and  what  should 
have  been  from  first  to  last  a  screamingly 
extravagant  absurdity,  gradually  fizzles 
out  in  tragic  splutter.  Despite  this,  the 
story  is  well  worth  reading. 

As  to  Mr.  HALL.  CAINB'S  new  book,  The 
Clnixtiiin,  all  I  can  find  to  say,  to  those 
hesitating  whether  to  read  it  or  not,  is, — 
If  you  have  absolutely  nothing  at  all  to  do ; 
if  you  have  no  newspapers,  no  library,  ro 
books  of  any  sort  (including  lirad.ihaw's 
Guide) ;  if  there  be  no  pack  ofcards  handy, 
or  even  a  solitaire  board :  if,  on  a  pouring 
wet  day,  you  are  dying  for  want  of  some- 
thing to  irritate  you  into  healthy  action, 
then,  should  you  discover  a  copy  of  The 
Christian  anywhere  about,  take  it  up 
and  try  it.  Impossible  to  answer  for 
the  consequences,  but  if  you  are  of  an  iron 
will  and  able  to  control  your  passions  up 
to  a  certain  point,  you  will,  despite  the 
wretched  weather,  pull  on  your  thickest 
boots,  struggle  into  your  driest  water- 
proof, and  rush  out  of  the  house  as  if  you 
were  ABEL  running  away  from  CAINE. 
Everyone  to  his  taste,  and  it  is  reported 
that  the  book  has  had  a  wonderful  sale. 
Certainly,  if  this  be  so,  the  sale  is  indeed 
wonderful,  and  the  fact  shows  how  bad  the 
weather  must  have  been  in  various  parts 
of  the  country.  By  the  way,  can  any  one 
of  its  "fifty  thousand"  readers,  including 
Dean  FARRAR,  who  apologises  for  the  au- 
thor and  quite  loses  whatever  point  there 
may  be  in  the  story,  explain  why  it  is 
called  The  Christiant 

THE  BARON  DB  B.-W. 


AN  EVIDENT  MLSPBINT. 

A  WELL-KNOWN  journalist  has  invented  a 
hair-restorer,  which  bears  the  designation 
of  "Tatoho,"  said  to  be  Romany  for 
"  genuine."  Surely  this  is  all  a  mistake — 
it  should  be  "Thatcho." 

Tatcho!    Tatcho? 

Buy  a  batch  O, 

With  despatch  O, 

Touch  the  patch  O, 

Just  a  scratch  O, 

Then  you  catch  O, 

And  you  hatch  O, 

In  a  snatch  O, 

Hard  to  match  O, 

Brand-new  thatch  O I 


MUSICAL  MEDICINE. —  It  has  recently 
been  discovered  that  sick  folk  can  be 
musically  treated  with  advantage.  Of 
course,  they  take  the  tonic  sol-fa. 

A  Royal  Nursery  Rhyme. 
THERE  was  a  young  King  of  Siam, 
Who  cried,  "All  for  knowledge  I  am." 

So  he  roamed  to  the  West, 

Where  he  studied  with  zest, 

Put  all  things  to  the  test, 

Ate  and  drank  of  the  best, 
As  he  cried,  "  Well,  a  student  must  cram ! " 


158 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  9,  1897. 


."SNIPING." 

The  Aiorlcy-ilullah.  "  I  THINK  THAT  SHOT  TOUCHED  'EM  ur, 


OCTOBER  9,  1897.] 


OR   THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


159 


Harold.  "AND  NOW,  BARLING,  TELL  ME  WHAT  TOTTR  FATHER  SAID  WHEN  YOU  TOLD  HIM  WB  wiwt  ENOAOKD." 
Sybil.  "On,  HAROID,  DON'T  ASK  MB  TO  REPEAT  HIS  LANGUAGE  ! " 


THE  KAISER'S  SABBATH. 

[The  President  of  Westphalia  has  iwui-d  an  edict 
foihidding  indulgence  in  shooting,  dan.  ing,  plav- 
iii  tinfr,  aud  similar  recreations,  on  a  Sumlu.  In 
the  next  column  of  the  paper  in  which  this  nli.-t  is 
published,  there  ia  an  account  of  the  KAISEKV 
•hoot  with  the  Emperor  of  AVDTKIA  at  Tolls  on  the 
prtvi  >U8  Sabbath.] 

HAD  I  been  born  in  WILLIAM'S  land 

By  some  malicious  lot, 
To  bless  bis  bust,  or  lick  the  dust 

Whereon  his  chargers  trot — 
Were  I,  in  fact,  of  German  make, 

Which,  thanks  to  luck,  I'm  not; 

1  M  sing  a  grace  composed  by  him 

Each  time  I  broke  my  bread, 
And  every  night  sit  up  and  cite 

His  latest  speech  in  bed, 
And  have  his  allegory  hung 

Beside  my  slumbering  head. 

I  'd  go,  to  ease  his  mighty  heart, 

Serenely  to  the  block, 
And  toast  his  name  and  fabulous  fame 

Above  my  final  bock, 
Remarking  in  my  gaoler's  ear. 

"  Hoch  to  the  Ktn»»«,  hoch  I  " 

I  'd  face  the  axe,  or  rope,  or  elie 

The  new  electric  gear, 
And  prior  to  death,  though  short  of  breath, 

Uplift  a  loyal  cheer, 
And  shout  terrifically ;  lika 

The  Dying  Grenadier. 


How  any  sheep  of  all  the  flock 
Marked  by  the  KAISER'S  brand 

Can  care  to  brave  the  lightest  wave 
Of  that  majestic  hand, 

Is  more,  considerably  more, 
Than  I  can  understand. 

Yet  there  is  one  so  brazen-faced, 

A  bold  Westphalian  he, 
Who  rudely  went,  without  consent, 

And  issued  a  by-decree, 
A  private  Sunday  law  to  suit 

His  own  locality. 

"None  shall,"  he  said,  "on  Sabbath-day 

Indecorously  run 
To  skittles  or  dance  or  games  of  chance, 

Or  shooting  with  the  gun, 
Xor  kill  of  even  doga  so  much 

As  just  a  little  one." 

For  here,  with  other  sports  profane, 

A  tendency  was  found 
To  hunt  the  big  domestic  pig, 

The  pig  so  ripe  and  round, 
That  makes  the  hams  that  make  the  name 

Westphalia  world-renowned. 

N'ow  in  the  Mail  that  gave  the  law 

Some  daring  local  wits 
Described  their  Lord  as  having  scored 

With  many  marvellous  hits, 
While  he  and  FRANCIS  JOSEPH  broke 

The  Sabbath-day  to  bita. 

All  through  the  holy,  peaceful  boon 
They  chased  the  secular  stag 


The  steeples  rang ;  they  answered  "  Bang !  " 

They  didn't  care  a  rag  ; 
By  vesper-time  the  two  had  made 

A  most  stupendous  bag. 

Mow  if  (a  dread  hypothesis) 

The  War-Lord  should  inrline 
Westphalia's  way  some  Sabbath-day 

To  shoot  a  herd  of  swine, 
I  'm  pleased  to  think  the  President 

His  fate  will  not  be  mine. 

Publishers,  printers,  devils  and 

The  staff  that  ran  the  Mail, 
The  actual  scribe  and  all  the  tribe 

That  had  the  thing  on  sale, 
Will  bo  accommodated  in 

The  journalistic  gaol. 

And  so  I  say.  when  thinking  on 

My  free  (if  futile)  lot, 
And  dreaming  how  my  bones  by  now 

In  dungeon-keeps  would  rot — 
"  Some  men  are  made  in  Germany, 

I  thank  my  luck  I  'm  not." 

At  the    Cosmopolitan  Club. 

JJritish  Politician  (to  Teutonic  guest). 
This  H  what  we  call  a  by-election  at 
Barnsley. 

Teuton.  Potztansend !  but  I  had,  more- 
overj  my  imagined  that  bribery  and  cor- 
rupt iveness  no  longer  were  permitted  at 
your  voting  polls! 

[Has  to  be  instructed  by  mecni  a'  an  Anglo- 
German  Dic'.i  nary. 


leo 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  9,  1897. 


\      S 


Intelligent  Foreigner. 


LATEST    FROM    THE    MOORS. 

'  TELL  ME — ZEE  'ILANDERS,  DO  ZAT  ALWAYS  WEAK  ZEE  RAW  LEGS  ? " 


THE  SEVEN  STAGES  OF  LITEEAEY  SUCCESS 

Illustrated  by  Cuttings  from  the  Scrap-boolc  of  a  Popular  Author. 
STAGE  THE  FIRST. 

"A  Star  of  Dawn,  by  a  hitherto  unknown  author,  Mr.  JONAS 
GOORD,  places  him  at  a  single  bound  in  the  foremost  ranks  of 
contemporary  novelists." — Daily  Oracle. 

"  An  epoch-making  book,  instinct  with  consummate  and  irre- 
sistible genius." — Areopagus. 

"  A  cheering  sign  of  the  times  is  the  extraordinary  enthusiasm 
with  which  A  Star  of  Dawn  has  been  received  by  the  Press  and 
Public.  It  proves  that  really  great  work  is  invariably  sure  of 
instant  recognition." — Chanticlere. 

"  The  author  is  evidently  only  on  the  threshold  of  his  brilliant 
career  ....  We  shall  await  his  next  work  with  breathless 
interest ." — Trumpeter. 

STAGE  THE  SECOND. 

"  The  numerous  public  which  thrilled  and  shuddered,  wept  and 
laughed  over  that  marvellous  book,  A  Star  of  Dawn,  will  not  be 
disappointed  by  its  successor,  The  Meridian.  Here  are  the  same, 
&c.,  &c.,  only  richer,  more  matured,  better  held  in  restraint. 
Incomparably  the  finest  novel  of  the  century." — Friday  Flam- 
boyant. 

"  We  laid  down  the  book  with  a  feeling  of  positive  reverence 
for  the  intellect  which  could  conceive  and  carry  out  to  a  success- 
ful issue  so  stupendous  a  design.  .  .  .  There  can  be  no  further 
doubt  about  it.  The,  Meridian  bears  on  every  page  the  imprint 
of  the  master-hand." — Discriminator. 

STAGE  THE  THIRD. 

"  We  hoar  that  Mr.  GOORD  has  boon  giving  sittings  of  late  to 
Mr.  FmJoHN  MELBTJRY,  the  well-known  R.A.,  and  the  portrait, 
when  completed,  will  be  one  of  the  chief  attractions  of  the  forth- 
coming Academy." 

"Mr.  GOORD,  the  distinguished  novelist,  is  perhaps  the  best- 
interviewed  man  living.  He  has  been  compelled  to  set  apart 
two  days  a  week  entirely  for  the  purpose  of  gratifying  the  in- 
satiable curiosity  of  the  public  respecting  his  personality  and 
surroundings." 


"Mr.  GOORD  is  now  leading  a  life  of  almost  complete  seclusion 
at  John  o'  Groat's,  where  he  is  engaged  in  putting  finishing 
touches  to  his  forthcoming  novel,  Brutum  Fulmen.  Those  who 
have  been  privileged  with  a  peep  at  the  proofs,  report,  &c.,  &e. 
Mr.  GOORD  complains  bitterly  of  the  manner  in  which  his  privacy 
has  been  invaded  by  cyclists  and  representatives  of  the  Press." 

"  It  is  said  that  Mr.  GOORD  has  received  the  magnificent  offer 
of  £ —  down  for  his  next  novel.  This  is  the  largest  sum  ever 
offered  for  any  work  of  imagination.  Mr.  GOORD  is  considering 
the  proposal." — Paragraphs  (various). 

STAGE  THE  FOURTH. 

"  Mr.  GOORD'S  new  novel,  Brutum  Fulmen,  contains  all  the 
qualities  with  which  he  has  made  us  accustomed  in  his  previous 
performances.  Perhaps  he  has  nothing  particularly  new  to  say — 

indeed,  it  is  difficult  to  avoid  a  certain  impression  of &c.,  &c. 

.  .  .  .  Still,    when  all  is   said,    it    is  indubitably    the  novel   of 
the  year." — Moderator. 

"  What  hope  is  there  for  Literature  when  a  stupid  and  sheepish 
Public  receives  with  gaping  avidity  such  pretentious  bombast  as 
the  works  of  that   over-rated  novelist,  Mr.   JONAS   GOORD  ?  "- 
Weekly  Iconoclast. 

"  We  have  never  been  carried  off  our  feet  by  the  flood  of  some- 
what hysterical  admiration  for  Mr.  GOORD'S  undoubted  talents, 
and  we  see  nothing  in  Brutum  Fulmen  to  lead  us  to  alter,  &c." 
— Tepidarium. 

"It  is  really  time  that  Mr.  GOORD  struck  out  some  new  vein." 
— Athenian  Mercury. 

STAGE  THE  FIFTH 

"  In  Fiasco,  Mr.  GOOHD  has  essayed  an  entirely  new  departure. 
.  .  .  .  Unfortunately,  he  cannot  be  congratulated  ....  We  re- 
commend him  to  return  without  delay  to  the  earlier  methods  by 
which  he  won  his  very  considerable  reputation." — Athenian 
Mercury. 

"  We  should  be  inclined  to  award  to  Fiasco  a  prominent  posi- 
tion among  the  novels  of  the  current  month." — Morning  Milk. 

"  Fiasco  is  quite  unlike  anything  its  author  has  written  before, 
and  we  venture  to  express  a  hope  that  the  experiment  will  not 
be  repeated." — Daily  Oracle. 


Ojroadiii  9,   18J7.] 


ITNVII,  OR  THE  LONDON  CMAIMVAKI. 


161 


STAOE  THE  SIXTH. 

"In  Sunset,  Mr.  GOORD  attempts  a  repetition  of  the  sort  of 
writing  which  obtained  for  A  Star  of  Dawn  and  Tlie  Meridian  a 
temporary  popularity  with  the  more  unthinking  .vet  ion  of  the 
Public.  This  is  a  pity,  because  in  Fiasco  he  showed  a  decided 
capability  for  better  things." — Daily  Oracle. 

"Alter  A'/nsro,  which  in  sonic  reNpeetK  was  quite  n  remarkable 
novel,  .S'iins/7  eomi'.s  a.s  a  distinct  disappointment.  We  fear  that 
Mr.  Goo  K  D  is  inclined  to  take  himself  too  seriously." — Athenian 
Mercury. 

"»Si/H.«'t  is  quite  unworthy  of  the  pen  that  wrote  that  uneven 
but  far  from  contemptible  novel,  A  ,S7ar  of  ]>atrn,  and  is  not  a 
patch  upon  the  same  author's  Fiasco.  However,  it  is  entitled  to 
mention  ns  one  of  the  novels  of  a  by  no  means  remarkable  week." 
— Flamboyant. 

"  When  the  author  produces  something  which  has  more  claims 
to  be  treated  an  Literature  than  Sunset  can  boast  of,  we  shall  be 
happy  to  give  it  a  more  extended  criticism  than  this  brief  para- 
graph. Meanwhile,  we  gladly  pass  on  to  the  next  in  our  batch 
of  ephemeral  productions." — Summary  Review. 

"We  hear  that  Mr.  GOORD,  the  celebrated  novelist,  is  com- 
pelled, by  reasons  of  health,  to  reside  abroad  in  future,  and  that 
his  unrivalled  collection  of  antique  tapestries,  Louis  Quinze  furni- 
ture, and  other  objects  of  Art,  will  shortly  be  seen  at  CHBISTT'B." 

STAGE  THE  SEVENTH. 

"  Afterglow,  by  J.  GOORD,  is  a  thoroughly  well-written  novel, 
like  everything  else  that  proceeds  from  this  cultivated  and  con- 
scientious artist.  It  will  be  greatly  liked." — Lubricator. 

"  Mr.  GOORD'S  facile  pen  has  given  us  another  of  his  pleasant 
books.  It  is  quite  up  to  the  level  of  anything  he  baa  done 
hitherto."— Daily  Oracle. 

"  If  we  have  allotted  to  Afterglow  more  space  than  its  import- 
ance strictly  deserves,  our  excuse  must  be  the  real  pleasure  which 
its  perusal  afforded  us." — Trumpeter. 

"An  excellent  little  book  to  take  up  in  an  idle  half-hour  when 
there  is  nothing  else  to  do." — Discriminator. 

"  Will  appeal  to  a  large  circle  of  readers,  and  give  much  inno- 
cent pleasure." — Areopagus. 

"The  author's  name  seems  familiar,  somehow,  though  there  is 
nothing  on  the  title-page  to  indicate  that  Afterglow  is  not  a 
maiden  effort.     If  so,  he   (or  she)   may  be  congratulated  and 
encouraged  to   persevere  in  the  hope   that  some  day,   &o."- 
Chanticlere. 

POST-SCRIPTUM. 

(Extract  from  Letter  to  Jonas  Goord,  Esq.,  from  his  Publishers.) 
DEAR  SIR, — We  propose^  with  your  consent,  to  clear  out  the 
whole  of  the  remainder  copies  of  Afterglow  at  waste-paper  prices, 
as  we  find  it  impossible  to  dispose  of  the  edition  on  more  favour- 
able terras. 

Trusting  that  this  arrangement  will  meet  with  your  approval, 
we  are.  &c.,  &c.  ' 

"  IN  GLOBO." 

TALK  University  must  be  a  pleasant  place  for  a  quiet  student, 
if,  whenever  two  Yaler  Boys  meet  a  third,  they  immediately  pro- 
ceed to  hoist  him  off  his  legs,  wildly  carry  him  about,  before 
depositing  him  recklessly  anywhere,  all  the  while  shouting, 
"  Yale  1  Yale  1  Yale !  "  as  a  sort  of  war-cry,  in  addition  to  yell- 
ing a  verse  of  something  or  other,  more  or  less  unmusical.  Such, 
as  above  stated,  is  the  startling  conduct  of  Messrs.  HARRY 
REEVES-SMITH  and  ARTHUR  PLAYFAIR,  representing  "Students 
of  Yale  University,  U.S.A.,"  showing  the  "way  they  have  in  the 
'Varsity"  of  giving  a  welcome  to  their  fellow-student,  Frank 
Staynor  (played  by  Mr.  WEEDON  GROBSMITH),  on  his  arrival  at 
"  Miss  FiTzAiiEN's  house  in  New  York  city." 

The  fun  of  this  bustling  piece  culminates  in  the  third  act, 
which,  as  rarely  happens  in  such  farcicaJ  pieces,  is  the  best  of  the 
three.  Mr.  MICHAEL  MORTON,  author  of  "Mis*  Francis"  of 
Tale,  seems  to  have  had  WEEDON  GROSSMITH  in  his  eye,  and  to 
have  seen  pretty  clearly  how  he  could  best  suit  him.  Through 
two  acts  the  unfortunate  WEEDON  is  battered,  banged,  bumped, 
thumped,  frightened  by  everyone  in  turn,  greatly  to  the  delight, 
of  a  sympathetic  audience,  until,  in  the  last,  he  retires  for  the 
night,  only  to  be  treated  worse  than  ever,  and  have  his  nerves 
shattered  by  a  short  but  sharp  thunderstorm.  Messrs.  REEVTW- 
SMITH  and  PLAYFAIR  hunt  in  couples,  and,  when  not  engaged 
bullying  WEEDON  GROSSMITH,  are  flying  for  their  lives  from 
savage  dogs,  whose  terrific  barking  is  admirably  imitated  by  some 
invisible  artist  outside,  whose  name  does  not  appear  in  the  play- 
bill, hut  who,  if  justice  is  to  be  done  all  round,  ought  certainly 
to  be  rewarded  by  a  call  before  the  curtain,  unless,  as  is  not  quite 


HOW  LITTLE  OUR  DEAR  ONES  UNDERSTAND  US! 

Madge.  "Mr  DEAR  GIOUOE,  THERE  YOU'VE  BEEN  SITTING  WITH 
TOUR  CAMERA  SINCE  BREAKFAST,  AND  YOU  HAVEN'T  TAKEN  ANY- 
THINO." 

George  (intent  on  hit  own  feelings).  "DON'T  ASK  HI  TO,  DARLING,  I 
COULDN'T  TOUCH  IT  !  " 


improbable,  the  above-mentioned  clever  canine  imitation  is 
artistically  given  by  that  sly  dog,  Mr.  LITTLE,  when,  as  Uncle 
FitzAllen,  hiding  under  a  bed,  he  treats  the  enraptured  audience 
to  a  specimen  of  how  he  can  imitate  a  dog's  yapping,  doing 
it,  too,  in  .a  most  convincing  manner,  until  driven  out  of 
his  ambush  by  several  whacks  from  a  poker  in  the  vigorous 
hands  of  Miss  ETHEL  HOPE,  impersonating  Miss  Mann.  If  this 
be  so,  special  compliments  are  due  to  Mr.  LITTLE. 

As  Soaper,  the  eccentric  melodramatic  butler,  Mr.  KINGHORNE 
is  capital.  Miss  MAY  PALFREY  and  Miss  SPENCKR  BRUNTON  are  in 
pleasant  contrast  with  one  another  as  the  two  sweet  sisters 
FitzAllen.  Neither  has  much  to  say,  and  not  very  much  to  do. 
There  is  some  character  in  the  part  of  the  merry  widow,  played 
by  Miss  HELEN  FERRERS,  who  shares  with  Cosette  (Miss  FERRAR), 
the  French  maid,  the  best  chances  in  the  piece.  "  Miss  Francis  " 
has,  it  appears,  made  a  decided  hit.  but  it  is  not  within  measur- 
able distance  of  Charley's  Aunt.  Snarp,  short,  brisk  throughout, 
it  succeeds  in  keeping  an  audience  interested  and  amused  for  just 
two  hours.  

The   Prayer  of  a  Cycling-  Benedict. 

[Aoeording  to  the  experience  of  Mr.  COOPBB,  the  retiring  Birmingham 
regijtrar,  the  "boom"  in  cycling  ha»  been  coincident  with  the  boom  in 
matrimony.] 
Mr.  Punch  said  "  Don't "  to  all  those  about  to  marry, 

The  bike  says  "  Do  "  before  the  boom  is  at  an  end  ; 
Pray  give  me  leave  this  once,  O  London  Charivari, 

For  tandems  weren't   invented   when  your  sage  advice    yon 
penned  I 

CURIOUS  FACT  OF  HORTICULTURE. — That  perhaps  the  best  apple 
is  a  Blenheim  orange. 


162 


PUNCH,    OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  9,   1897. 


"DON'T  YOU  THINK  THE   LUTHERAN   SERVICE  SWEET  1  " 
"I   DON'T  THINK   I   KNOW  IT.      ALL   MINE   IS   SEVRES." 


THINCS  THEY  DO   BETTER  IN  HOLLAND. 

DEAR  MB.  PUNCH, —  May  I  send  you 
some  random  notes  of  a  flying  visit  to  the 
land  of  dams  and  polders  ?  They  are  some- 
what disconnected,  and  require  sorting, 
much  as  does  the  writer  after  a  rough  sea- 
passage  in  one  of  the  Zeelandsche  Stoom- 
vaart  Maatschappij's  excellent  boats. 

In  the  first  place,  there  is  no  scenery  to 
waste  time  over  in  Holland.  A  landscape, 
the  ingredients  of  which  are  canals,  cows, 
and  wind-mills,  saves  a  lot  of  trouble,  if 
you  keep  a  sketch-book.  One  horizontal 
line,  surmounted  by  a  row  of  X's,  gives 
you  a  perfect  picture  of  the  Zaanland  with 
its  forest  of  saw-milla. 

You  can  get  an  excellent  seat  in  the 
stalls  of  a  theatre  for  three  shillings  or  so, 
with  a  penny  for  the  programme.  When 
will  the  London  theatres  follow  suit,  and 
let  us  see  a  piece  in  comfort  at  a  reason- 
able price?  Then  the  opera  is  sung  in 
Dutch,  so  you  are  not  bothered  with  listen- 
ing to  the  absurdities  of  the  libretto,  but 
can  devote  all  your  attention  to  the  music. 

The  Amsterdam  Zoo  people  are  most 
considerate  to  their  four-legged  and 
feathered  residents.  For  instance,  the 
ostrich  has  a  comfortable  and  ornamental 


villa  to  himself,  with  reception  and  bed- 
rooms, and  apparently  a  kitchen,  pantry, 
and  coal-cellar  in  the  back  premises. 
Double-fronted,  detached  house ;  sanita- 
tion excellent ;  hot  water  throughout ; 
balcony  lounge,  together  with  extensive 
playground,  and  "  all  that  messuage "  ; 
standing  in  its  own  premises,  and  com- 
manding romantic  views  of  duck-pond  and 
band-stand ;  keeper,  gardeners,  garden  pro- 
duce, and  perquisites,  all  inclusive.  Only 
the  language  of  the  house-property  adver- 
tisements in  our  esteemed  contemporaries' 
columns  can  do  it  justice. 

The  sands  at  Scheveningen  are  well  pro- 
vided with  "  wind-stoels,"  or  wicker-work 
portable  seats  with  hoods.  Put  two  of 
these  together  face  to  face,  and  you  can 
have  a  tete-a-Ute  as  long  as  you  like,  or 
until  they  tip  over. 

Then  in  the  Kurhaus  they  have  invented 
and  adopted  a  new  means  of  gambling, 
called  "  European  Pool,"  apparently  played 
nowhere  else.  You  can  get  rid  of  youi 
guilders  much  faster  this  way  than  at 
"little  horses,"  and  as  the  chances  are 
less  in  your  favour,  you  will  soon  be  cured 
of  the  taste  for  such  games  of  chance.  The 
principle  is  this :  You  take  up  a  scoop, 
from  which  you  lot  roll  a  vulcanite  ball, 


about  an  inch  and  a  half  in  diameter,  on 
to  a  sort  of  long,  flat  trough,  with  eight 
shallow  depressions  in  it.  Two  of  these  are 
marked  red,  two  are  blue,  and  the  rest  1, 
2,  3,  4,  successively.  You  win  twice  your 
stake  on  the  red  or  on  the  blue,  and  four 
times  on  the  numbers,  having  previously 
indicated  which  you  will  play  on,  red,  blue, 
or  a  number.  I  say,  you  win ;  or  at  least, 
I  hope  so.  I  didn't. 

The  elderly  ladies  do  their  best  to  arrest 
and  amuse  the  observant  eye,  by  wearing 
copper  helmets  of  mediaeval  design  at  the 
back  of  their  heads,  with  small,  gold 
blinkers  or  frontlets  at  their  temples,  and 
surmounting  the  whole  with  a  modern 
black  bonnet  with  sprays  and  feathers.  A 
few  of  such  head-dresses  in  London  would 
make  a  walk  down  Bond  Street  highly 
interesting. 

In  the  Oude  Kerk  at  Amsterdam  you 
see  a  notice  that  smoking  in  church  is 
forbidden ;  but  that,  by  way  of  consola- 
tion, the  119th  Psalm  will  be  sung  through 
as  a  "  voorsang."  The  latter,  with  a  ser- 
mon an  hour  and  a  half  long,  is  in  keeping 
with  the  lengthy  hotel  dinner  given  you 
recently.  But  I  am  straying  from  my 
text,  and  will  therefore  conclude  with 
"  tot  weerziens!"  (which,  I  believe,  is  the 
Dutch  au  revoir). 

Yours  miscellaneously, 

Z.  Y.  X. 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  disappointed  Epicurean,  whose,  lady-love  will 
not  "  no/me  the  day,"  consiles  himself  mi 
Michaelmas  Day. 

HOPE  against  hope  is  still  the  tale 

That  s  told  from  day  to  day, 
While  sunlight  fades  and  skies  grow  pale. 

O'ercast  with  shadows  grey. 
The  Winter-snow  is  very  near, 

The  cold  is  coming  fast 
On  cutting  winds  ;  and  yet,  my  dear, 

You  will  not  say,  "  At  last !  " 

You  will  not  see  the  Summer 's  fled, 

And  may  not  come  again, 
Nor  recognise  the  year  is  dead, 

While  we  two  yet  are  twain. 
You  little  reck  of  bitter  grief 

Caused  by  your  fickle  troth. 
And,  'mid  the  falling  of  the  leaf, 

You  think  of  one,  not  both! 

The  birds  that  sang  to  us  in  Spring 

Have  hushed  their  joyous  strain, 
Or  taken  flight  on  Southern  wing 

For  Africa  or  Spain  I 
Tlio  swallow  now  prepares  his  flight, 

For  travel  is  agog, 
And  bids  to  us  a  long  "  Good-night  I  " — 

He  loves  not  English  fog  I 

Still  birds  are  left  about  the  nest, 

Birds  that  are  passing  fair, 
The  sprightliest  and  daintiest 

That  ever  breathed  our  air  ; 
Birds,  such  as  you,  who  love  to  be 

Uncaged,  too  prone  to  roam, 
And  live  the  life  that  they  deem  free 

By  never  seeking  home. 

But  there 's  one  bird,  I  love  her  well, 

I  '11  meet  that  bird  to-night, 
And  on  her  many  charms  will  dwell, 

And  make  her  my  delight. 
She  shall  for  you  atonement  make, 

And  an  exquisite  excuse ; 
Of  her  I  wish  you  could  partake — 

She  is  my  wonted  goose  1 


ADVICE  TO  WOTTLD-BE  BACKERS  OP  HORSES 

AND  THEATRICAL  SPECULATIONS. — Back  out! 


IT  NTH,   OR   TIIK    LONDON    CHARIVARI.— OCTOBER  9,  1897. 


A  NATIONAL  QUESTION. 

BBITANNIA.  "WHEN  ARE  YOU  TWO  GOING  TO  MAKE  IT  UP,  AND  LET  ME  HAVE  MY  SHIPS?' 


["  The  lock-out  in  the  engineering  trade  will  leriously  interfere  with  the  currying  out  of  the  extended  ship-building  «h'me  •U*?™°i1r*f'  ! 
by  the  House  of  Commons.    Consequent  on  the  delay  in  forwarding  the  programme,  it  will  be  impotable  within  the  limit*  of  the  financial  yen 
the  seven  and  a  half  million*  voted."—  Daily  Newt,  October  2.]  _ 


OCTOBER  9,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CII Ai;!\  AIM. 


165 


WITH  MOTOR-CABS  A  SUBSTITUTE  FOR 


'WHIP  BEHIND"  BECOMES  A  NECESSITY.     MESSRS.  Sr.uu  AND  JIMPKINS'S  PATENT  GALVANIC 
URCHIN  TICKLER  WILL  BE  FOUND  MOST  EFFECTIVE. 


THE  PKOPITIATOR'S  VADE  MECUM. 

Question.  What  is  your  mission  in  life? 

Answer.  To  discover  causes  of  discord, 
and  remove  them. 

Q.  Give  an  instance  of  your  occupation 
in  action. 

A.  I  strongly  object  to  the  celebration 
of  the  anniversary  of  the  victory  of  Tra- 
falgar, because  the  event  might  offend  the 
French. 

Q.  Then  do  you  object  to  the  name  of 
WELLINGTON  ? 

A.  Certainly,  except  in  its  connection 
with  boots. 

Q.  And  what  about  Waterloo  ? 

A.  It  should  disappear  as  a  name  of  a 
place,  a  bridge,  or  an  omnibus. 

Q.  Would  you  honour  NAPOLBON  with  a 
statue  ? 

A.  In  theory. 

Q.  Why  not  in  practice  P 

A.  Because  the  effigies  of  public  men  in 
England  may,  unfortunately,  turn  out  to  be 
insults  perpetuated  in  marble  or  bronze. 

Q.  Would  you  celebrate  any  date  in  con- 
nection with  the  Spanish  Armada  ? 

A.  Certainly  not ;  more  especially  as  the 
incident  is  said  to  have  occurred  so  long 
ago  that  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  it  may  not 
be  true. 

Q.  Would  you  retain  a  remembrance  of 
the  names  of  any  of  our  battles  with  the 
French  ? 

A.  Only  those  which  we  had  lost — for 
instance,  Fontenoy. 

Q.  And  what  would  you  do  about 
NELSON  P 

A.  I  would  prove  conclusively  that  he 
never  won  an  action  in  his  life  and  was 
invariably  outwitted  by  our  Gallic  neigh- 
bours. 


Q.  And  what  would  you  say  about  WEL- 
LINGTON ? 

A.  That  instead  of  his  customary  title, 
he  should  be  known  as  the  Hero  of  a 
Hundred  Flights. 

Q.  And  how  would  you  account  for  the 
successes  of  both  P 


Some  additions  we  may  reasonably  expect  to  the 
Hot-water  Lamp-post*. 


A.  By  their  luck  in  fortunate  blunder- 
ing. 

Q.  Then  you  would  establish  the  pres- 
tige of  our  lively  neighbours  at  the  expense 
of  the  reputation  of  our  own  troops  P 

A.  Undoubtedly ;  and  thus  prevent  our 
country  drifting  into  war. 

Q.  And  you  consider  that  this  plan  of 
self-depreciation  is  conducive  to  propitia- 
tion? 

A.I  do ;  and  consequently  it  is  my 
great  regret  that  there  is  an  unfortunate 
bar  to  the  attainment  of  my  object. 

Q.  What  is  that,  in  your  eyes,  unfortu- 
nate barp 

A.  That  my  words  and  actions  are  im- 
perfectly understood  by  our  neighbour* 
across  the  water. 

Q.  Is  this  a  curse  ? 

A.  In  my  eyes ;  although  some  people 
may  consider  it  a  blessing. 


A  LAY  OF  THE  LAKES. 
DERWENT  WATER. 

DERWENT  Water  very  fine 
When  the  sun  consents  to  shine  ; 
Derwent  Water  very  calm  ; 
Sure  to  sail  would  do  no  harm. 
Suddenly  there  comes  a  squall, 
Instantly  our  spirits  fall. 
Derwent  Water  over  decks, 
Derwent  Water  down  our  necks, 
Derwent  Water  very  rough, 
Derwent  Water  quite  enough. 


FROM  OCR  IRREPRESSIBLE  ON»  (obvi- 
ously in  concealment). — Q.  What  is  cer- 
tainly the  name  of  the  sister  of  the  Clerk 
of  the  Weather  P  A.  Anne  E.  Royd. 


166 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  9,  1897. 


OOTOURR  9,  1897.] 


I'CNCH,    OR   THE    LONDON    CHAIJIV.MM. 


167 


ABROAD  IN  THE  AUTUMN. 

Nuremlrrg. — Still  raining.  Still  cold  and  foggy.  Have 
finished  museums.  What  next  '<  Churches.  To  the  I 
Kircho.  Very  dark  inside.  Walk  slowly  round  choir.  Perceive 
on  the  floor  a  small  placard  inscribed  "«s'(u/e/"  Stop  and  look 
at  it.  My  German  wants  brushing  up.  Remember  the  word, 
but  not  the  translation  of  it.  Looks  as  if  it  meant  "stove, 
but  that  i-i  Ofrn.  Am  still  meditating  when  I  nearly  fall  over  a 
step.  Then  understand  what  a  Stufe  is.  Fine  instance  of  Ger- 
man paternal  government.  No  doubt  most  foreigners,  gazing  at 
this  word,  are  on  their  hands  and  knees  before  they  know  what 
it  means.  If  there  were  no  placard  their  eyes  would  be  at 
liberty  to  see  the  step. 

Ramble  round  the  Castle,  and  ALBERT  DUKER'S  house,  and  the 
Museum  of  Instruments  of  Torture — which  contains  some  instru- 
ments of  music,  but  no  barrel-organ — and  then  good-bye  to  the 
factory-chimneys,  the  fog,  and  the  Gothic  railway  station.    The 
train  leaves  the   latter  reluctantly.     It  is   a  very  slow  train. 
Cannot  imagine  how  they  manage  to  have  so  many  accident*  in 
Germany  when  they  go  at  this  pace.     Wronder  the  passengers 
don't  get  out  and  walk.    Safer  and  quicker. 
If  you  like  a  slow  train, 
You  will  find  ono  in  Bpu'n  ; 

For  dawdling  combined  with  disaster, 
You  '11  be  suited  as  well 
In  a  Zuf,  far  from  tchnell — 
Be  smashed,  while  a  bike  would  go  faster. 

Itotlienburg. — At  last  arrive.  For  the  moment  it  is  not  raining. 
Round  the  town.  A  delightful  old  place.  Every  house  pic- 
turesque. The  Herr  Biirgermeister  and  his  fellow-citizens  keep 
their  beautiful  old  town  mediaeval,  and  yet  clean  and  in  good 
order,  a  combination  which  hardly  any  other  Town  Council  has 
ever  attempted.  Then  the  rain  begins  again.  If  any  one  wished 
to  make  a  fortune  he  should  start  somewhere  in.  Bavaria  an 
immense  shop  for  the  sale  of  waterproof  clothing.  If  properlj 
puffed,  his  establishment  would  in  time  supply  every  man,  woman 
and  child  with  macintoshes,  <fcc.  Everyone  would  wear  a  Gummi- 
Muntcl,  a  Gummi-Hut,  and  Gu/mmi-Schuhe.  Can't  stand  damp 
medievalism  any  longer.  Must  go  where  there  are  cabs,  cafti, 
theatres,  and  tramcars  to  shelter  one. 

So  off  to  Munich,  this  time  in  a  Schnellzvg,  which  is  very  full. 
There  is  a  dining-car  in  the  train.  Capital !  After  dining  at 
Rothenburt;  at  12.15,  could  manage  a  second  dinner  about  7.30. 
Quite  a  civilized  hour.  So  at  that  time,  with  a  good  appetite, 
change  to  the  Speisewagen.  Am  crushed  by  the  astounding  in- 
formation that  everything  has  been  eaten  !  Not  even  a  roll  left. 
At  once  feel  a  still  better  appetite.  The  waiter  tries  to  console 
me  by  saying  that  we  arrive  at  Munich  at  9.  By  the  time  I  can 
get  supper  at  the  hotel  it  will  be  9.30— two  hours  hence.  Spend 
the  remaining  hour  and  a  half  in  the  train  opposite  a  weary  little 
old  lady  and  a  restless  man.  Probably  he  is  also  starving.  The 
o'd  lady  ssems  to  desire  repose — probably  after  a  good  meal. 
SI.e  li.'s  down  on  half  the  length  of  the  seat,  and  closes  her  eyes 
The  restless  man  yawns,  pushes  his  hat  back,  pulls  it  forward 
again,  wriggles,  kicks.  He  must  be  hungry.  Old  lady  opens  her 
eyes,  sits  up,  puts  on  a  large  pair  of  spectacles,  looks  sadly 
around,  and  tries  to  go  to  sleep  again.  Should  feel  more  sorry 
for  her  if  I  thought  she  were  also  starving.  Wonder  if  she 
has  any  biscuits  in  her  little  hand-bag.  How  to  obtain  one  F 
Impossible  if  she  is  asleep.  Otherwise  might  get  into  conver- 
sation and  arouse  her  sympathy.  She  does  not  rest  long.  Her 
neighbour  jumps  up,  and  flops  down  again.  This  movement 
shoots  the  old  lady  into  a  sitting  posture.  She  opens  one  eye 
and  sighs.  Restless  man,  in  a  paroxysm  of  energy,  throws  about 
his  arms,  as  though  he  were  using  dumb-bells.  Old  lady  opens 
b'oitlh-  eyes,  gazes  nervously  at  his  moving  arms,  sits  as  far  away 
as  she  can,  and  asks  me  how  much  longer  it  is  to  Munich.  Ah, 
now  is  my  chance !  I  tell  her  there  is  another  hour.  She  gasps. 
Restless  man  bolts  out  into  the  corridor,  and  is  seen  no  more. 
Perhaps  he  is  gnawing  a  napkin  in  the  useless  Speisetcagen.  As 
soon  as  he  has  gone,  the  old  lady  falls  asleep  again,  and  all  hope 
of  a  biscuit  vanishes.  Starve  steadily  to  Munich. 

ROBINSON  THB  Rovn. 

A  Rit't  in  the  Lute. 

Country  Cousin  (on  a  visit  to  London,  to  lady  fiddler).  Were 
you  practising  on  your  violin  just  now,  Miss  STBAD  P  I  thought 
I  heard  you. 

Aftss  Strad.  No.     I  haven't  touched  it  to-day. 
Country  Cousin.  Ah  I  then  it  must  have  been  an  organ  in  the 
street  1 

[And  for  the  tiff  nf  him  hr  can't  understand  why  Miss 
now  gives  him  the  cold  shoulder. 


'a  OJE  TUINO  I  WILL  HAY  ABOUT  ME— AN'  THAT  is, 

1  *S    A  MAN  OF   REGULAR  'ABIT8  !  " 


POACHING-  UP  TO  DATE. 

["  Two  men  were  fined  £120  a-piece  for  poaching  white  rhinoceros." 

Ttma  of  Afriea.} 

I  VB  poached  a  pickle  pairtricks  when  the  leaves  were  turnin' 

sere, 
I  've  reached  a  twa-three  hares  an'  groose,  an'  mebbe  whiles  a 

desr, 

But  ou,  it  seems  an  unco  thing,  an'  jist  a  wee  mysterious 
Hoo  any  mortal  could  contrive  tae  poach  a  rhinocerious. 

I  Ve  crackit  wi'  the  keeper,  pockets  packed  wi'  pheasants'  eggs, 
An'  a  ten-pun*  saumon  hangm'  doun  in  baith  my  trouser  legs, 
But  eh,  I  limit  effects  wud  be  a  wee  thing  deleterious 
Gin  ye  shuld  stow  intil  yer  brocks  a  brace  o'  rhinocerious. 

I  mind  hoo  me  an'  Wullie  shot  a  Royal  in  Braemar, 
An*  brocht  him  doun  tae  Athol  by  the  licht  o'  mune  an'  star, 
An'  eh,  Sirs  I  but  the  canny  beast  contrived  tae  fash  an'  weary  us — 
Yet  staigs  maun  be  but  bairn's  play  by  a  weel-grown  rhinocerious. 

I  thocht  I  kent  o'  poachin"  jist  as  muckle  's  ither  men, 
But  there  is  still  a  twa-three  things  I  doot  I  dinna  ken, 
An'  noo  I  canna  rest,  my  brain  is  growin'  that  deleeriooi 
Pae  win  awa'  tae  Africa  an'  poach  a  rhinocerious. 


At  Brighton. 

Ethfl.  I  can't  make  out  why  that  well-dressed,  good-looking 
man  stares  so  persistently  at  you,  GLADYS. 

Gladys.  1  can.  He  's  the  new  foreman  at  SNIP  AND  PATTBRN'S, 
and  he  wants  to  see  how  my  new  tailor-made  frocks  are  cut  by 
BUTTON  AND  BRKKKS. 

Lingua  Franca   at  the  Prix  du  Conseil  Municipal. 

Anatnk.  Qui  est  ce  petit  Monsieur  qui  vient  de  te  saluer, 
ALPHONSB  P 

Alphnn.v.  C'est  un  sportsman  le  jockey  qui  a  fait  un  dead'eat 
avec  un  outsidare  au  dernier  meeting.  Un  vrai  dark'orse  I 


168 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  9,  1897. 


MURDER    WILL    OUT. 

Teddy  (out  Cub-huntinj  for  the  first  time).  "On,   THANK  YOU  so  MUCH,  MR.   HUNTSMAN. 
Bur  I  'M  AFRAID  DADDY  WILL  BURY  IT." 

Huntsman.  " BURY  IT?    OH,  NO,  HE'LL  HAVE  IT  STUFFED  FOR  YOU." 
Teddy.  "  WILL  HE?    THEN  WHY  DOES  HE  ALWAYS  BURY  THE  ONES  HE  SHOOTS?" 

[Nice  for  Daddy,  who  may  be  seen  talking  to  the  M.F.H. 


WHAT  WILL  HE  DO  WITH  IT  ? — "  The 
Siamese  Minister,"  says  Saturday's  Daily 
Mail,  "  yesterday  waited  upon  the  Lord 
Mayor" — at  luncheon  probably,  and 
handed  his  Lordship  the  real  turtle  and 
hashed  venison — "at  the  Mansion  House, 
and,  by  command  of  the  King  of  SIAM, 
presented  his  Lordship  with  the  insignia 
of  Commander  of  the  Royal  Order  of  the 
White  Elephant,  and  with  a  portrait  of 
the  King."  As  "  Commander,"  the  Lord 
Mayor  may  now  order  as  many  White 
Elephants  as  he  can  get.  All  who  saw  Sir 
FAUDEL  gaily  bestriding  his  fiery  steed  on 


Jubilee  Day  know  that  he  is  already  a 
perfect  Master  of  the  Horse  ;  and  perhaps 
next  ninth  of  November  we  may  behold 
the  ex-Lord  Mayor,  in  his  robes,  sitting 
on  a  White  Elephant's  head,  bowing  his 
acknowledgments  right  and  left  to  the 
crowd ;  while  within  the  palanquin  on  the 
elephant's  back  will  be  the  new  Lord 
Mayor,  the  Mace  Bearer,  the  Recorder, 
and  the  Chaplain.  "  There 's  a  picture  for 
you ! "  A  propos  of  pictures,  if  Sir  FAUDEL 
can't  have  a  White  Elephant  to  mount,  he 
will,  at  all  events,  see  that  the  King's 
portrait  is  properly  "mounted." 


BY-ELECTIONS. 
JOCK,  JOCK,  yer  thochts  were  ever  bent 

In  some  gey  licht  direction, 
Ye  lovedna  learnin'  or  ye  'd  kent 

This  was  a  by-election. 
An'  why  gae  namit  ?  Hout  awa', 

Just  list,  ye  feckless  creetur", 
I  '11  gie  ye  what  the  Frenchmen  ca' 

The  vara  raison  d'eeter. 

Ae  morn — the  fecht  was  ragin'  fair — 

While  we  were  at  oor  parritch, 
There  staps  withoot  our  cottage  there 

A  bonny  braw  new  carritch. 
An'  whiles  we  thocht  what  shuld  be  done, 

No  bein'  used  wi'  gentry, 
The  Colonel,  smilin'  like  the  sun, 

Cam'  in  an'  made  his  entry. 

Agreeable  ?    Ou,  I  doot  the  word 

Has  never  been  inventit. 
Agreeable?    Faith,  we  never  heard 

Oursels  sae  compliment  it. 
He  praised  the  coo,  admired  the  soo, 

Was  in  the  midden  rollin', 
An'  hoped  we  'd  see  an'  bring  him  through 

Triumphant  at  the  pollin'. 

Scarce  had  he  smiled  himsel'  awa', 

Scarce  was  his  last  bow  drappit, 
When  look  ye !    Lord  preserve  us  a', 

Anither  carritch  stappit. 
An'  ere  the  wife  could  hurry  ben 

Tae  set  the  parlour  ready, 
There  stood  within  the  door,  ye  ken, 

Sir  TAMMAS  an'  his  leddy. 

We  thocht  the  Colonel  he  bade  fair 

Wi'  compliments  tae  cram  us, 
But,  JOCK,  my  laddie,  he  was  ne'er 

A  patch  upon  Sir  TAMMAS. 
He  askit  us  aboot  the  hay, 

An'  was  there  aucht  we  're  wishin'  ? 
An'  hoped  that  whiles  we'd  tak'  a  day 

Doun  at  the  saumon  fishin'. 

Scarce  had  he  gaen,  the  gudewife  sees 

The  butler  frae  the  Hoose,  man — 
"  The  Colonel's  compliments  an'  please 

Ye  '11  tak'  a  brace  o'  groose,  man." 
Then  comes  Sir  TAMMAS'  man  an'  mak's 

A  lang  oration,  endin' 
"  He  hopes  ye  '11  like  the  hares  he  tak's 

The  liberty  o'  sendin'." 

The  Colonel  ca'd  again  the  morn, 

"  Why,  man,"  quoth  he,  "  ye  're  husky. 
Ye  Ve  ta'en  the  cauld,  an"  I  '11  be  sworn 

There 's  naethin'  for 't  like  whusky. 
I've  got  the  vara  thing,  ye '11  see, 

An'  oh,  the  wee-est  spot '11 
Jist  mak'  anither  man  o'  ye — 

I  '11  send  ye  doun  a  bottle." 

Sir  TAMMAS  heard  o'  this  i'  toun, 

For  sure  as  I  'm  a  sinner, 
His  ain  braw  man  cam'  fleein'  doun 

While  we  were  at  our  dinner. 
"Sir  TAMMAS  saw  wi'  muckle  pain 

How  pale  ye  looked  an'  weak.  Sir ; 
He  hopes  this  port  '11  bring  again 

The  roses  tae  yer  chec-k,  sir ! " 

O  JOCK  !  I  never  lived,  my  lad, 

In  sic  a  field  o'  clover, 
An'  eh,  it  mak's  me  gey  an'  sad 

Tae  think  it  a'  is  over. 
An'  noo,  mebbe,  ye '11  unnerstan', 

Gin  ye  are  a  reflector, 
Why  'tis  a  6i/-election,  an' 

WThy  I  'm  a  boucht  elector. 


At  the  Pig  and  Pelican. 

Mm.  Thiinlleby  (to  Mrs.  GRIMBLEBY). 
I  can't  abide  them  dratted  pore  rates. 

Mrs.  Grimbleby.  Why,  lor'  love  yer. 
MAKTHA,  I  looks  upon  'em  as  a  blessed  old 
age  pension. 


OCTOBER  16,  '1897.J 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


169 


STRAPPING    HIM    ON. 

A    RESPECTFUL  SUGGESTION,    IN   ADVANCE,    FOR  SOUS  OF  OUR  AMATEUR  STEEPLE-CHASE   RlDBRS 


AN  INTERVIEW. 

IT  was  not  without  a  certain  amount  of  difficulty  that  I  ob- 
tained the  privilege  of  an  interview  with  Mr.  SLOOOINOTON  BLOW- 
FROG,  the  latest  of  those  novelists  who  have  "arrived."  On  my 
announcing  myself  at  his  front  door,  he  at  once  took  refuge  in 
flight,  and  it  was  only  after  a  heated  chase  that  I  ran  him  down 
in  the  cupboard  beneath  the  kitchen  stairs,  a  very  pretty  apart- 
ment, which  the  author  has  fitted  up  for  the  reception  of  blocks 
of  Wallsend  and  Silkstone,  Derby  Brighta,  and  other  mineral 
products  of  a  like  nature. 

"  Perhaps,  if  you  are  so  averse  to  being  interviewed ,"  I 

began,  but  a  frown  on  the  great  writer's  brow  arrested  me. 

No,"  he  said,  "don't  go.  You  see,  a  little  chuse  after  me 
lends  an  added  zest  to  the  interviewer's  keenness  for  copy.  And 
now  let  us  start  in  the  customary  manner.  No,  I  am  not  a 
writer  by  birth.  I  studied  originally  for  the  profession  of  dust- 
man, and  followed  that  calling  for  several  years  with,  perhaps 
I  may  be  allowed  to  say,  considerable  success.  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  nothing  is  more  likely  to  fit  one  for  the  production  of 
fin  de  siiWr  literature  than  dust  collecting  and  the  constant 
association  with  garbage  of  all  kinds.  It  is  a  great  qualification 
for  the  work  of  the  modem  'hill-top,'  novelist.  What  did  the 
public  think  of  my  Three  Monkeys  in  the  Dustholef"  he  broke  off 
suddenly.  "  Realistic,  wasn't  it  ?  "  Then,  pensively  scratching  the 
tip  of  his  ear  with  a  fork,  he  resumed.  "  It  was  a  work  in  which  my 
wife  helped  me  very  materially.  Of  course  that  adds  greatly  to 
the  value  of  anything  one  writes  nowadays  :  in  fact,  it  is  almost  a 
sine  qud  non — ah,  I  suppose  you  don't  speak  Spanish  P  forgive 
me — that  the  (interviewed)  writer  should  be  helped  by  his  wife. 
Wifely  help  is  all  the  'go'  just  now.  How  do  I  work,  you  ask? 
Well,  I  usually  rise  at  midnight,  eat  a  hearty  meal  of  tea  and 
shrimps,  then  work  till  about  4  A.M.  .  .  .  My  favourite  seat 
whilst  at  work  ?  Oh,  I  usually  sit  in  the  scullery  sink.  By  the 
way,  you  might  like  these  few  photographs  of  me,  in  various 
attitudes,  for  reproduction  in  your  journal.  Too  many  to  carry  ? 
Very  well,  I  '11  have  them  packed  in  a  crate  and  sent  on  by 
CARTER,  PATERSON.  But  to  resume.  At  4  A.M.  I  go  for  a  ride  on 


my  bike,  or  play  shove-halfpenny  for  an  hour  with  the  milkman 
round  the  corner  ;  then  I  return  and  go  to  bed —  Excuse  me  a 
moment."  And  my  host  picked  up  a  richly-jewelled  inkstand, 
and  hurled  it,  with  marvellous  precision,  tnrough  the  window  at 
a  black  Tom-cat  on  the  lawn.  "  And  now  please  go.  I  have  to 
work  at  fifteen  different  magazine  stories.  You  see,  the  public 
ii-ill  have  the  lion  of  the  hour — for  just  so  long  as  he  is  the  lion 
of  the  hour,  bien  entendu — pardon  me,  perhaps  you  don't  under- 
stand Italian  ?  .  .  .  My  next  great  work  P  Well,  I  need  hardly 
tell  you  that  all  novels  nowadays  must  be  of  low  life,  and  no 
neighbourhood  more  aristocratic  than  Lambeth  should  be  dealt 
with.  A  strong  incident  in  my  new  book  is  the  marriage  of  HIM 
BUGGINS,  the  Labour  agitator,  who  despises  capital,  vested 
interests  and  personal  cleanliness,  to  the  proud  but  consumptive 
Russian  Princess  ORFULKORFF.  And  now,  will  you  take  a  pot  of 
four  ale?  NoP  Well,  then,  goodbye.  Don't  put  in  a  lot  of 
compliments  about  my  personal  appearance,  or  my  house,  or 

wife,  or  dog .By  the  way,  that  dog  was  presented  to  me  by 

one  of  the  Crowned  Heads.  .  .  .  No,  I  sha'n't  tell  you  which — 
who  brought  him  all  the  way  from  Leadenhall  Market  on  a  string. 
You  won't  put  in  any  compliments,  will  you  P  " 

"Certainly  not,  it  you " 

"  Ah,  you  take  me  too  literally,"  interrupted  the  great  novelist, 
hastily.  "  Do  just  as  you  like  about  it,  and  a  pleasant  smile 
lit  up  the  mobile  face  with  its  rolling  eye  and  massive  nose,  in 
which  the  rich,  red  blood  shows  boldly  and  perpetually  at  the 
tip.  "  And  now."  he  concluded,  playfully  fingering  a  heavy 
paper-weight,  "if  you  don't  go,  I  snail  have  to  treat  yon  as  I 
treated  Thomas  If  noir.  Again,  pardon  me  for  using  the  dead 
languages." 

And  keeping  an  eye  on  my  genial  host,  I  left  the  room — 
backwards. 

TH»  betrothal  was  recently  announced  of  the  Princess  THIODORA 
of  Saxe-Meiningen  (the  home  of  the  celebrated  theatrical  troupe* 
"  to  Prince  HENRY  XXX.  of  Reuss."  An  "  Ex-Prince  "  is  of  no 
great  value,  but  a  Prince  who  is  "  treble  X."  must  be  a  strong 
potentate — quite  a  quart-pot-entate. 


YOL.  cxiu. 


170 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  16,  1897. 


THE    WINDFALL. 

Mr.  Ratepayer.  "I  SAY,  MARIA,  THE  LONDON  COUNTY  COUNCIL  HAS  TAKEN  A  FARTHING  IN  THE  POUND  OFF  THE  RATES  FOE  THE 
NEXT  Six  MONTHS  !  " 

Mrs.  S.    "HA.VS  THEY,    DEAR?     THBN— SOW  WE  CAN   GO  TO   MONTE  CARLO  !" 


OCTOBER  16,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVAEI. 


171 


THEM    ARTISES!" 


Lady  Artist.  "Do  YOU  BELONG  TO  THAT  SHIP  OVBR  THERE?  Sailor.  "Yes,  Miss." 

Lady  Artist.  "THEN  WOULD  YOU  MIND  LOOSENING  ALL  THOSE  ROPES  t    THEY  ARE  MUCH  TOO  TIOHT,  AND,"  BESIDES,  I  CAN'T 

STRAIGHT  LINKS  ! " 


OUR    BOOKING-OFFICE. 

MRS.  ROBERT  JOCELYN'S  Only  a  Love  Story  (HurcHiNSON)  is, 
to  be  more  precise,  several  love  stories.  But  they  all  centre 
round  the  Lady  Veronia  Bracltendale,  and  ray  Baronite  does  not 
wonder,  for  she  is  a  charming  girl.  In  the  end,  she  marries  de- 
cidedly the  best  of  her  troop  of  admirers.  The  plot  is  not  very 
profound,  but  it  is  unfolded  in  sprightly  fashion,  illumined  by 
many  flashes  of  keen  insight.  The  literary  style  is  deplorably 
slipshod.  Possibly  this  is  a  subtle  touch  of  art,  being  in  Keeping 
with  the  style  in  which  women  write  confidentially  about  each 
other. 

To  wile  away  the  tedium  of  a  railway  journey,  let  me  confi- 
dently recommend  A  Studio  Mystery,  by  FRANK  AUBRBT,  pub- 
lished by  JARROLD  AND  SONS.  It  is  pocketable,  honestly,  and  clearly 
printed,  two  excellent  qualities  in  a  book  to  be  selected  as  the 
companion  of  your  evening  journey  by  rail,  "  when  the  lights  are 
low  ;  moreover,  it  is  a  mystery  which  the  genuine  romance- 
reader  will  penetrate  at  once,  though  to  ascertain  the  means 
whereby  discovery  is  brought  about  will  keep  him  thoroughly 
interested  to  the  end.  By  the  very  fact  of  the  mystery  being 
made  so  clear,  the  reader  is.  from  time  to  time,  put  off  the  right 
track,  and  is  inclined  to  think  that  he  must  be  mistaken.  It 
belongs  to  the  series  called  "  The  Daffodil  Library,"  which  sounds 
a  bit  aesthetic ;  but  do  not  be  put  off  by  this.  To  those  fond  of 
a  "  sensation,"  the  Baron  says,  "Read  A  Studio  Mystery." 

Perpetua,  by  BARING  GOULD,  is  an  interesting  novel,  to  which  the 
author-actor-manager  who  carries  The  Sign  of  the  Cross  trium- 
phantly all  over  the  country,  should  turn  his  attention  when  in 
search  of  another  ecclesiastical-dramatical  subject  for  a  new  Early 
Christian  play.  He  will  do  well,  however,  at  the  same  time,  to  con- 
sult WISEMAN'S  Fabiola,  NEWMAN'S  Callista,  and,  to  be  accurate  in 
details,  Rossi's  work  on  the  Catacombs.  He  may  also  follow  Mr. 
BARING  GOULD'S  example,  and,  after  selecting  certain  passages 
from  the  well-known  PALEY'S  Evidences,  he  can  turn  them  into 


blank  verse,  should  he  have  a  talent  for  this  impressive  style,  and 
then  appropriately  place  the  lines  in  the  mouth  of  the  excellent, 
but  slightly  prosy,  Bishop  Castor.  Perhaps  Bui. WEB'S  Last  Days 
of  Pompeii  may  also  be  of  some  assistance.  If  only  the  simple  ques- 
tion as  to  the  origin  of  evil  with  which  Friday  posed  liubinson 
Crusoe  could  have  been  brought  in,  and  answered  satisfactorily  by 
Castor,  then  this  novel  would  obtain  a  world-wide  repu- 
tation and  unprecedented  sale.  As  it  is,  it  is  mildly  inte- 
resting, but  "unconvincing."  The  Bishop  is  apparently 
conscious  of  being  a  bit  of  a  bore,  and  so,  in  toe  midst 
of  a  lengthy  discourse,  he  diffidently  requests  to  be  allowed 
"  to  say  something  further,  if  I  do  not  weary  you."  Whereupon 
(Emilius  Varro,  a  man  of  pleasure,  and  a  lawyer,  not  to  be  out- 
done in  courtesy,  replies,  "Not  at  all.  You  astonish  me  too 
much  to  weary  me,"  and  thereby,  as  one  never  loses  by  polite- 
ness, he  lets  himself  in  for  a  further  continuation  of  the  episcopal 
dissertation.  One  of  the  best  written  scenes  in  the  novel  is  the 
description  of  Deacon  Baudillas  in  the  rat-pit.  Should  Mr. 
WILSON  BARRETT  elect  to  play  the  Deacon,  what  a  sensation 
his  fight  with  the  rats  would  cause  if  he  were  only  sufficiently 
terrier-fled !  The  last  scene  of  the  miraculous  snow-storm  is  an 
admirable  climax,  and  would  give  opportunity  for  such  scenic 
effect  as  has  not  been  seen  on  the  stage  since  the  volcanic  days 
of  Claudian  at  the  Princess's.  THK  BABON  UK  B.-W. 


Song  of  "  the   Missing  Sportsman." 

How  happy  could  I  be  on  heather, 
A-shooting  at  grouse  all  the  day, 

If  only  the  birds  in  high  feather 
Would  not,  when  I  shoot,  fly  away  1 


DEFINITION  OF  A  "  CLEARANCE  SALE." — Going  put  as  one  of  a 
party  in  a  sailing-boat  full  of  trippers  at  two  shillings  a  head. 


172 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  16,  1897. 


,*      Owr  Own  Undergraduate  (fresh  from  his  Euclid).  "  HA  !    Two  EIDERS  TO  ONE  PROP.' 


MENTALITY  7.  EMOTION. 

["  In  future,  people  marrying  are  to  be  guided 
by  Mentality  and  not  by  Emotion.  ...  A  society 
has  been  formed  to  promote  these  principles." 

Daily  Chronicle.} 

You  've  heard  the  latest,  darling  FLO  ? 

Was  ever  tuch  a  notion  ? 
Now,  when  we  marry,  we  must  go 

By  bumps  and  not  emotion. 
Of  course  Mamma  has  caught  the  craze, 

And  felt  our  bumps  and  noses, 
And  vows,  whatever  faults  I  raise, 

I  must  have  Mr.  MOSES. 

It 's  all  in  vain  I  plead  that  JACK 

Is  clever.     They  say  nut,  FLO  ; 
They  say  he  shows  an  utter  lack 

Of  size  and  iveight.    It's  rot,  FLO  I 
Of  course  he  is  not  like  the  Jew, 

A  great,  fat,  ugly  porpoise, 
But  size  and  weight !     Why,  he  pulled  two 

When  B.  N.  C.  bumped  Corpus  1 

Then  his  adhesiveness  is  slight, 

And  so  is  concentration ; 
Why,  he  can  dance  with  me  all  night 

Without  the  least  cessation. 
And  for  adhesiveness,!    Why,  FLO, 

They  would  feel  precious  geese,  if 
I  told  how  JACK  can  kiss — he  'a  so 

Delightfully  adhesive  I 

Thank  goodness,  JACK  has  got  no  bumps 

Upon  his  dear  old  forehead, 
For  MOSES,  with  his  nasty  lumps, 

Is  horrid — simplj  horrid. 
No  1     Ma,  of  course,  is  free  to  pick 

According  to  her  notions, 
But  as  for  me,  I  mean  to  stick 

To  good  old-world  emotions. 


SUBJECT  TOR  AN  UP-TO-DATE  PICTURE. — 
"  LABBY,"  M.P.,  worried  by  the  Hesaan 
fly. 


WHEEL  WICTIMS ! 

(Some  Paragraphs  strayed  from  the  "  St.  J-m-s's  G-z-tte.") 

THE  long  and  terrible  list  of  bicycling  accidents,  which  (at  this 
time  of  year)  we  publish  daily,  still  continues  to  grow.  The 
latest  batch  is  even  more  alarming  than  usual,  and  proves  con- 
clusively that  no  one  with  the  smallest  respect  for  their  safety 
should  ever  be  induced  to  ride  a  bicycle.  There  are  some  per- 
sons who  seem  unable  to  relish  any  amusement  that  is  not  fraught 
with  peril,  but  to  such  we  would  recommend  bathing  in  the 
whirlpools  of  Niagara  as,  on  the  whole,  a  less  dangerous 
recreation. 

FROM  the  highland  village  of  Tittledrummie  comes  the  news  of 
one  terrible  disaster.  As  JAMES  MACRANKT,  a  youth  of  fifteen, 
was  attempting  to  mount  his  machine  for  the  first  time  in  his 
father's  garden,  the  unfortunate  lad  lost  his  balance  and  was  pre- 
cipitated into  the  middle  of  a  gooseberry-bush,  with  the  result 
that  his  right  hand  was  severely  scratched.  Although  he  is  still 
alive  at  present,  it  is  highly  probable  that  he  will  develop 
symptoms  of  blood-poisoning  in  consequence  of  his  misadventure, 
when  tetanus  will  certainly  supervene,  and  the  fatal  bicycle  will 
have  brought  one  more  victim  to  a  premature  death. 

WHAT  might  have  been  a  fatal  accident  was  averted  by  the 
merest  chanca  in  Kensington  on  Monday  last.  According  to  an 
eye-witness  of  the  thrilling  scene,  a  young  lady  was  riding  by 
herself  (a  dangerous  practice  which  we  have  repeatedly  censured) 
along  the  Cromwell  Road,  when  a  hansom-cab  suddenly  appeared, 
advancing  rapidly  in  the  opposite  direction.  With  marvellous 
nerve  the  young  lady  guided  her  machine  to  the  left-hand  side  of 
the  road  while  the  cab  was  still  fifty  yards  from  her,  and  was  thus 
enabled  to  pass  it  in  safety.  But  supposing  she  had  lost  her 
nerve  in  this  alarming  crisis,  and  had  steered  straight  for  the 
horse's  feet,  she  could  only  have  escaped  destruction  by  a  miracle. 

WB  are  loth  to  inflict  too  many  of  these  gruesome  stories  upon 
our  readers,  go  we  will  add  only  one  more  for  the  present,  which 


may  well  serve  as  a  warning  to  those  who  tour  in  districts  un- 
known to  them.  A  party  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  made  an 
expedition  on  bicycles  last  week  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Beach- 
borough.  Being  unfamiliar  with  the  locality,  they  dismounted  at 
a  point  where  two  cross-roads  met,  and  hesitated  as  to  which 
direction  they  should  take.  By  a  providential  chance?  they  de- 
cided to  keep  to  the  left,  and  so  reached  their  destination  in 
safety.  Afterwards  they  learned  with  horror  that  had  they 
chosen  the  other  road,  ridden  two  miles  along  it,  turned  to  the 
right,  and  then  to  the  left  again,  they  would  have  found  them- 
selves close  to  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  from  which  there  is  a  sheer 
drop  of  six  hundred  feet  to  the  beach  beneath !  And  there  are 
still  some  foolish  persons  who  attempt  to  deny  the  awful  perils 
of  cycling !  

THE  Daily  Telegraph  publishes  a  list  of  "  Settling  Days,"  which 
is  probably  very  useful  to  natives  and  settlers.  But  how  about 
a  list  of  "Unsettling  Days"?  Prominent  in  the  list  would  be 
birthdays,  wedding-days,  quarter-days,  Lord  Mayor's  days,  civic 
banquet  days,  Bank  Holidays,  of  course,  and  many  other  days, 
including  nights,  which  have  always  been  recognised  as  distinctly 
"  unsettling." 

THE  "  Ex-M.P."  who  wrote  to  the  Times  complaining  that  the 
railway-rates  for  "  bikes"  were  enormously  high,  evidently  wished 
to  be  "ex-m-p-ted."  But  most  certainly  the  freight-charges  for 
bicycling  ought  to  be  higher  than  for  ordinary  luggage.  "  Take 
it  up  tenderly,  treat  it  with  care,"  should  be  the  rule,  and  bikers 
wishing  to  travel  by  train  should  arrive  early  and  give  the  porters 
every  chance. 

MRS.  MUDDLE  (of  the  great  MUDDLBHEAD  family)  cannot  recol- 
lect what  the  striking  cartoon  of  RAPHAEL'S  was  that  she  saw  in 
Rome,  but  thinks  it  represented  Saint  PAUL  preaching  on  the 
Asparagus.  (Query  "Areopagus  "  ?) 

LTTCKY  Doo. — The  man  without  a  penny  who  is  engaged  to 
"  The  Lord  Mayor's  Ward,"  Miss  Farringdon  Within. 


OOTOBBR  16,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


DARBY  JONES  ON  THE  CESAREWITCH. 

HONOUMD  bi»,— So  regardleM  of  pact 
favours  is  the  Majority  ot  Mankind,  that 
not  only  you,  niy  ever  esteemed  i'utrou, 
but  also  most  ot  your  readers,  have  pro- 
bably forgotten  that  the  liupecuuiouji 
Prophet  ot  the  Spoit  of  Kings  wad  enabled 
tin*  time  last  year  to  supply  au  augury 
with  regard  to  that  noble  Handicap,  tue 
Cesarewitch,  such  as  was  calculated  to 
enable  one  and  all  to  wash  down  the 
appetising  flesh  of  the  Colchian  bird  with 
copious  draughts  of  the  joyous  vintage  ot 
Champagne.  1  will  not  accuse  you  or 
others,  who  profited  by  my  advice  then 
and  since,  with  ingratitude,  liather  will 
1  ascribe  their  remissuess  in  the  matter  of 
remittances  to  that  Intoxication  of  Feel- 
ing, which  invariably  follows  the  Glory  ot 
Triumph. 

J  int.  ten  years  ago  I  knew  a  young  Aris- 
tocrat, who,  broken  on  the  Wheel  of  For- 
tune, approached  me  with  tears  in  his 
deep  blue  eyes,  and  implored  me,  if  ppe- 
sible,  to  give  him  that  information  which 
was  calculated  to  enable  him  to  supply 
himself  with  bread  and  cheese  and  bitter 
brer,  and  his  family  with  coals  and 
blankets,  during  the  rigour  of  the  ap- 
proaching Winter.  Touched  by  the  misery 
of  his  condition,  I  provided  him  there  and 
then  with  Humeuwod  for  the  Cesarewitcii, 
and  (jloriattun,  at  forty  golden  shekels  to 
one,  for  the  Cambridgeshire.  Could 
human  divination  have  probed  the  mys- 
teries of  the  Future  to  greater  advantage  ? 
My  young  Aristocrat  was  saved  from  star- 
vation, and  possibly  a  prolonged  sojourn 
in  II  KB  MAJESTY'S  Castle  of  Holloway! 
"Was  ha  grateful P"  will  naturally  be 
your  query,  when  you  consider  the  magni- 
ficence of  that  superb  Double  Kvent. 
Alas  I  I  can  truthfully  state  that  the  only 
recompense  which  he  vouchsafed  to  s«nd 
me  took  the  shape  of  a  brace  of  patriarchal 
grouse,  which  had  perhaps  escaped  from 
the  Ark.  Last  week,  at  Leicester,  my 
young  Aristocrat  did  not  even  recognise 
•ay  features,  as  he  elbowed  his  way  past  me 
to  the  Paddock,  clad  in  an  irreproachable 
Newmarket  coat,  and  armed  with  a  cigar 
as  long  as  a  Torpedo  Boat.  I  often  think, 
Sir,  that  BEI.ISARIUS  must  have  been  no 
general,  but  a  prophet  about  chariot- 
racing. 

Similarly,  when,  last  year,  I  distributed 
St.  Brit  with  the  freedom  of  a  professional 
gamester  dealing  cards,  and  ten  to  one 
romped  home  at  the  hands  of  Kempton 
CANNON,  but  few  of  those  honoraria  that 
grateful  clients  usually  press  upon  their 
professional  advisers  came  into  my  pos- 
session. 

In  all  delicacy,  I  forbear,  honoured  Sir, 
to  continue  this  subject,  because  I  have 
since  learnt  from  a  Prodigious  Penciller, 
that  some  of  the  highest  and  mightiest 
about  the  office  of  Mr.  Punch  were  not 
above  following  the  recommendation  of 
the  humble  Vates.  Verb,  sap.,  as  they 
say  in  the  classics.  There  is  also  an  Eng- 
lish adage,  which  runs,  "It  is  never  too 
late  to  fliend,"  admirably  illustrated  in 
romance  and  drama  by  the  late  Mr. 
CHARLES  KEADE.  You,  Sir,  could  prove 
its  truth  more  privately,  but  quite  as 
effectively,  the  more  so,  as  the  same  P.  P. 
informs  me  that  the  Winner  of  the  Duke 
of  York  Stakes  was  peacefully  reposing  up 
your  sleeve  till  such  time  as  the  race  was 
run. 

And  now  to  the  business  of  the  Bard. 
L*t  me  remind  you  and  yours  that  th« 


"OF  COURSE,    I    KNOW   YOU   DON'T  NEED  ONE,    BUT  IF  YOU   SHOULD  HAPPEN  TO  HEAR  OT 
ANY  ONE  WANTING   A   WELL-BKED  PUPPY,   THINK   OF  MM,    DON'T  YOU    KNOW." 


Cesarewitch  is  this  year  run  upon  the 
thirteenth  day  of  the  month,  and  on  thi- 
eve of  the  Natal  Day  of  Sir  WILLIAM 
VERNON  HARCOURT,  and  of  the  anniversary 
of  the  Battle  of  Hastings.  I  am  not  one 
to  believe  that  these  dispiriting  influences 
will  interfere  with  the  success  of  the 
Handicap,  so  I  boldly  plunge,  like  an 
experienced  diver,  into  the  troubled  waters 
of  Prejudjment,  and  herewith  sing — 
I  have  no  fear  of  Asteroid, 

No  Jacobean  for  me, 
One  Saint,  I  fear,  u  null  and  void, 

But  the  Second  looks  well  to  be. 
The  Judicious  Lover  may  run  right  well, 

And  the  Man  of  the  Sun  go  free. 
And  the  Rush  on  the  Orange  may  the  Market  swell. 

But  I  '11  stand  by  the  Son  oftlu  8m, 
With,  given  a  «tnrt  for  Jack  oftfo  Mart, 

To  finiih  in  one,  two,  three. 

There!  the  weary  brain  is  at  rest  for  a 
brief  period,  the  goose-quill  drops  from  the 
digits  of  the  Poet,  and  once  more  the 
Promethean  fire  flickers  as  it  dies  from  the 
brow  of 

Your  devoted  henchman  and  heeler, 
DARBY  JONF.H. 

P.S. — I  have  reason  to  believe  that  a 
Certain  Noble  Lord  to  whom  I  confided  the 
excellence  of  Corkscrew  at  Leicester  has 
forwarded  a  case  of  trim  see  addressed  to 
your  office.  I  have  grave  doubts  as  to  the  ' 
honesty  of  some  of  your  officials.  Hence 
thin  hint. 


NATUEAL  HISTORY.—  THK  HORSE. 

THE  noblest  conquest  which  the  horse 
has  ever  made  is  that  of  man,  that  spirited 
and  haughty  animal  which  shares  with  him 
the  fatigues  of  war  and  the  glory  of  the 
combat.  Consider  how  man,  from  the 
cradle  to  the  grave,  is  absorbed  in  devotion 
to  the  equine  race.  When  mewlina  and 
puking  in  his  nurse's  arms,  he  agitates  his 
own  little  limbs,  and  appeals  frantically  to 
the  passing  '•gee-gee.  As  he  grows 
older,  he  becomes  further  and  further  in- 
volved in  some  form  of  horse  worship. 
The  most  deified  type  of  hone  is  the  Race- 
horse. Each  one  of  these  glorified  being* 
has  its  attendant  suite  of  men  and  boys  to 
perform  the  sacred  rites.  "  J jklties  "  and 

Grewms"  represent  respectively  a  higher 
and  lower  order  of  priesthood,  with  aco- 
lytes known  as  "  Stabel-bhoys."  Immens.- 
are  the  sacrifices  that  have  been  made  in 
this  system  of  worship.  There  also  exist* 
a  missionary  order  known  as  "  Bookkiz." 
They  sponk  an  occult  language,  which  is 
closely  studied  by  a  large  and  earnest- 
minded  section  of  humankind.  A  talis- 
manic  virtue  is  attributed  to  certain  for- 
mulae, such  as  "  Tentowuninarphkrowns." 
The  Great  Successful  Chief  of  all  the 
Bookkiz  is  "  Ibak  the  Vinnar." 

All  this  is  interestine  an  showing  that 
the  horse  is  an  animal  that  age  cannot 
stale  nor  motor-oar*  exterminate. 


174 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  16,  1897. 


COMPENSATION. 

She.  "I  'M  SORRY  TO  HEAR  YOU'VE  LOST  YOTJK  PATIENT,  DK.  JONES.' 

He.    "BUT  HE  WAS   ILL  A   LONG,    LONG  TIME  ! " 


Sir 


iiihrt, 


BORN,  1817.      DIED,  OCT.  6,  1897. 

FOUB-SOOKB  tie  years  that  crowned  your 

head,  and  still 
In  labour,  not  in  sorrow,   passed  their 

strength  I 

TJntired  the  genial  hand  and  stedfast  will 
Yield  up  their  task  at  length. 

With    generous  love,   forestalling   Death's 

bequest, 
From  out  your  treasure-stores  of  youth 

and  age 

Living,  you  gave  your  country  of  your  best, 
A  royal  heritage  ! 

Of  lesser  claims  we  know  the  noisy  cry  ; 
Yours  were  the  gifts  too  great  to  ask  our 

praise  ; 

You  reaped  "  the  harvest  of  a  quiet  eye  " 
In  life's  sequestered  ways. 


The  faded  history  of  courts  and  kings 
Touched  by  your  spell  took  on  its  formei 

hue  ; 

You  made  the  daily  art  of  common  thing!- 
Fresh  as  the  morning  dew. 

And  Punch,  who  knew  you  early  for  his- 

friend, 
When  friends  were  rare  and  fortune  yet 

to  know, 

Still  cherishes  the  charm  your  fancies  lend 
His  page  of  long  ago. 

Take,  for  he  brings  you,   mindful   of  the 

past, 

This  token,  witness  to  a  comrade's  grief, 
Mourning  the  noble  heart  that  lies  at  la»t 
Dead  with  the  dying  leaf. 


PRIVILEGED  PERSONS. —  Billiard  players 
who  put  on  "  side "  and  pocket  all  they 
can  get. 


"DIET  UNLIMITED" 

DEAB  ME.  PUNCH, — As  a  general  thing, 
I  don't  read  the  papers  much  —  except 
yours,  of  course — because  they  're  full  ot 
politics  and  all  that  kind  of  thing,  so  that, 
bar  the  cricket  and  footer  news,  they  are 
precious  uninteresting.  But  lately  1  no- 
ticed that  one  of  them,  by  spine  fluke,  had 
a  lot  of  letters  on  a  really  important  sub- 
ject ;  they  were  headed,  "  The  Feeding  at 
the  Public  Schools."  Some  of  them  were 
most  awful  rot,  and  I  wrote  to  the  editor, 
and  told  him  he  must  be  a  silly  juggins  to 
print  such  drivel ;  but  he  hasn't  published 
my  letter  yet.  One  chap  wrote  to  say  that 
schoolboys  were  "  pampered  with  luxuries 
in  these  days."  Just  let  him  come  and  try 
the  Sunday  stodge  here.  But,  to  make  up, 
there  were  one  or  two  letters  that  were 
first-class,  and  I  cut  one  out  and  left  it 
on  old  BAGS'  desk,  so  I  hope  he  may  read 
it. ,  It  says  that  it  is  scandalous  that  boys 
should  be  driven  to  buy  for  themselves 
the  food  with  which  their  housemasters 
should  supply  them.  Thi»  is  quite  true, 
and  BAGS  ought  to  supply  me  with  all 
the  Turkish  Delight  I  want.  Then  the 
letter  goe»  on :  "  It  is  unreasonable  to 
eipect  growing  boys  to  use  and  develop 
their  brain-power  satisfactorily  unit  a*  they 
are  afforded  a  generous  and  liberal  diet. 
Mr.  Punch,  that  man  is  really  sensible,  and 
I  jolly  well  wish  he  was  aiy  tutor  instead 
of  BAGS.  "  A  generoiu  and  liberal  diet  I  " 
Sardines,  and  marmalade,  and  ices,  and 
cocoa,  and  potted  meat,  and  bananas,  and 
sausage-rolls — why  am  I  not  given  these  ? 
And  when  I  buy  them  with  my  hard- 
earned  pocket-money,  they  don't  under- 
stand that  I  only  wish  to  develop  my  brain- 
power. Only  yesterday  one  of  the  masters 
called  me  a  "  greedy  little  pig,"  because  he 
found  me  eating  butter-scotch.  Had  my 
tongue  not  been  engaged  at  that  moment, 
I  would  have  explained  that  butter-scotch 
runs  you  up  more  brain-power  than  any- 
thing else,  and  that  I  was  only  eating  it  in 
order  to  do  well  in  school,  and  be  a  credit 
to  my  dear  parents.  It  is  true  that  I  came 
out  bottom  of  my  form  last  term.  Why 
was  that  ?  BAGS — who  is  a  beast — said  it 
was  "  incurable  idleness."  I  know  now 
that  it  was  nothing  of  the  kind ;  it  was 
simply  because  I  had  no  chocolate  creams 
for  a  fortnight  before  the  end  of  the  term, 
and  my  bram-power  for  the  exams,  suffered 
in  consequence.  You  can't  call  a  diet 
"  generous  and  liberal "  if  it  has  no  choco- 
late creams  in  it. 

And  now  I  '11  give  you  my  own  opinion 
about  this  most  important  question.  The 
beginning  of  the  term  is  all  right,  fellows 
bring  back  grub  with  them,  and  they  've 
*ot  money  as  well  to  buy  more.  But  it 's 
quite  different  later  on,  when  everyone's 
more  or  less  stony-broke.  In  fact,  though 
we've  only  been  back  three  weeks,  I  fear 
;hat  my  brain-power  won't  develop  satis- 
'actorily  much  longer;  I  finished  the  last 
pot  of  strawberry  jam  last  night.  I  am 
sure  that  you  will  agree  that  it  would  be 
i  great  pity  if  I  didn't  get  my  remove  at 
;he  end  of  this  term,  and  my  only  chance 
s  a  generous  and  liberal  diet.  This  is,  in 
'act,  why  I  am  writing  to  you.  I  'm  sure 
that  you  or  some  of  your  readers  would  like 
:o  help  me,  and  all  they  have  to  do  is  to 
send  me  a  fair-sized  hamper  once  a  week 
or  so.  My  brain-power  specially  needs 
potted  shrimps,  Turkish  Delight,  and 
dessert  biscuits.  Or,  if  you  like  to  send 
me  the  cash,  I  '11  buy  the  things  myself. 
Yours  affectionately, 

Poppkton  College.  JONES  MINOR. 


w  • 

Si 


H  O 

' 


E^ 


CQ 


> 

w 


I 

§ 


OOTOBBB  16,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


177 


GIVING    HIMSELF   AWAY. 

Preserver  of  Game.  "  HULLO  !    BLESS  MY  LIFE!    A  BRACE  or  FOXES!    WHY,  THEY  MUST  HAVE  BEEN  TURNING  THEM  DOWN." 
M.F.H.  (having  a  day  amongst  the  turnips).  "OH,  no,  THEY  AKK  YOUBS,  OF  COURSE." 
Preserver  of  Game  (forgetting  his  company).  "  THAT  I  'M  SUBB  THEY  ABB  NOT  I  " 


A  LIGHT  0'  LEITH. 

] "  Tak'  awa'  yon  bauble,  Mon.    Tak'  it  oot  o*  my 
sight.     It  only  coot  yin  (one)  and  sazpenco." 

[The  Provost  of  Leith  submitted  the  Jubile« 
Medal  to  the  Leith  Town  Council  last  week.  He 
nailed  it  a  bauble,  and  said  h»  was  disappointed 
with  it,  the  value  being  only  eighteenpence  or  two 
shillings.  He  was  astonished  that  Lord  Balfour  of 
Burleigh  should  send  such  a  thing  to  the  Provost  of 
Leith  !J 


HIBERNATING  OPERA. 

WHERE  am  IP  Royal  Italian  Opera 
House,  Covent  Garden.  No  I  Not  Italian 
Opera?  True.  Theatre  Roy.il,  Covent 
Garden.  Ah !  But  opera  is  going  on,  and 
where  Opera,  there  are  the  stalls  and  no 
pit.  Here,  pit  and  just  a  few  rows  of 
ft»U*.  Well,  you  lee,  we  don't  go  in  for 


"  smartness,"  but  for  popularity.  Ah !  just 
so,  and  a*  far  as  one  can  judge,  you're 
succeeded  so  far  in  popularising  this  ope- 
ratic entertainment.  A  good  house,  too. 
By  all  means  let  us  hare  Opera  at  fairly 
reasonable  prices.  Only  wish  the  notion 
would  catch  on,  and  that  a  theatre  could 
be  kept  going  for  this  purpose  exclusively, 
as  a  "  paying  concern,"  all  the  year  round. 
We  begin  with  La  Boheme.  Rather,  not 
very,  appropriate.  A  Bohemian  season. 
PUOCINIS  La  Boheme  is  well  received. 
Then  on  Tuesday  comes  Faust,  with  Mr. 
LLOYD  D'AUBIGNB,  a  very  successful  Faust, 
Mr.  LBMPBIEBE  PBINOLB  a  musically  first- 
rate  Mephistuphelet,  but  "made  up"  as 
ineffectively  aa  an  ignorant  apothecary 
might  make  up  a  London  physician's  pre- 
scription. Valentine,  nervous,  but  good. 
Marguerite,  Miss  ALICE  EBTY,  whose 
charming  voice  was  somewhat  discounted  by 
her  amateurish  performance.  Kiebcl,  good.' 
and  Mme.  AMAIM  a  really  substantial 
Martha.  A  good  start,  and  we  wish  the 
Carl  Rosa  Opera  Company  good  iuck. 

Carmen  at  Covent  Garden  on  Thursday. 
English  version  of  Italian  Opera,  with 
slightly  foreign  accent,  both  M.  BBOEBL, 
a  first-rate  Jose,  and  Mile.  OI.ITZKA,  as  a 
really  excellent  Carmen,  having  a  struggle 
with  "  English  as  she  is  spoke  "  and  sung. 
Miss  LILLIAN  COOMBER'S  charming  per- 
formance of  simple  Michaela  was  rewarded 
with  a  magnificent  bouquet.  Messrs. 
WILLIAM  DEVBRS  and  FRANK  WOOD  capital 
as  Dancairo  and  Remendado.  M.  SBFPILLI 
kept  orchestra  well  together.  House 
crammed,  jammed.  Applause  enthusiastic. 
"  Come  to  Covent  Garden,  MAUD  1 " 


MRS.  MUDDLE  can't  get  it  right.  She 
would  say,  "  Present  company  arrays  ex- 
pected." 


[At  a  meeting  of  the  Court  of  Common  Council 
at  the  Guildhall,  Mnjor  WODKHICIE,  the  Assistant 
Commissioner,  stated,  that  the  control  of  the  Cycle 
traffic  in  the  City  was  a  source  of  great  trouble. 
Personally  he  could  not  say  what  steps  would  be 
taken  to  remedy  the  evil.]  -  Might  we  offer  a  sug- 
gestion ?  Why  oot  ekvmte  tt ' 


178 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  16,  1897. 


HIS    VERY    LATEST    APPEARANCE! 

THE  TRIPLE  ALLI 1  BEG  PARDON,  THE  THREE-CARD  TRICK— PUZZLE,  "TO  FIND  THE  KNAVE  '—WAS  AN  ENORMOUS  SUCCESS. 

["  During  his  recent  visit  to  the  Emperor  of  AUSTRIA,  WILLIAM  THE  SECOND  is  said  to  have  revealed  himself  in  quite  a  new  light.  After  the  State 
Banquet,  when  the  two  Sovereigns  and  a  few  favoured  guests  retired  to  enjoy  a  quiet  cigar,  His  Majesty  produced  a  couple  of  packs  of  cards,  and  amused 
the  company  with  conjuring  tricks."— Daily  Paper.] 


THE  FIELD  OF  THE  CLOTH  OF  GREEN. 

IN  history,  which  records  the  lives 
Of  Kings  (and  others),  we  are  told 

How  HENRY — he  that  had  the  wives — 
Met  FRANCIS  on  a  Field  of  Gold  ; 

There  must  have  heen  a  reason  why  they 
met, 

But  that,  and  all  the  details,  I  forget. 

Though  distances  were  then  the  same 
Both  here  and  out  in  foreign  parts, 

The  times  were  still  a  little  lame 
In  point  of  locomotive  arts  ; 

And  monarchs  seldom  trysted,  as  to-day, 

Unless  they  had  a  lot  of  things  to  say. 

But  now  the  task  of  touring  round 

Is  expedited  by  the  rail, 
And  fresh  facilities  abound 

For  transport  on  a  cheapened  scale  : 
Then,  too,  relationships  are  much  improved, 
Since  all  are  cousins-german — or  removed. 

And  so  together,  King  and  King, 
They  picnic  nearly  every  week  ; 
They  shoot  the  chamois  on  the  wing, 
And  buss  each  other  on  the  cheek  ; 
And  this,  as  "  Honest  JOHN  "  would  have 

us  see, 

All  makes  for  peace  and  beauteous  har- 
mony. 

Pretty  it  was  to  mark  the  play 
Of  Rulers  reeking  from  the  chase, 

When  GERMANT  the  other  day 
Put  up  at  AUSTRIA'S  little  place ; 


The     rendezvous    (unlike    the    Field     a' 

Guisnes) 
Was   here    upholstered   with    a   Cloth    ol 

Green. 

Dinner  was  over ;  host  and  guest 
Were  full  enough  of  meat  and  drink ; 

Each  had  rehearsed  the  very  best 
Old  platitudes  without  a  wink  ; 

They    then     adjourned     (see     authorized 
report) 

With  kindred  spirits  of  the  choicer  sort. 

Here  followed  something  which,  for  me, 

I  find  it  simple  to  believe  ; 
For  at  this  juncture  GERMANY 

Produced  a  parcel  from  his  sleeve, 
And  looking  round  with  affable  regards 
Undid  a  duplicated  pack  of  cards. 

He  dealt  them  with  the  airy  flick 
That  lighter-fingered  folk  affect ; 

Not  any  flaw  in  any  trick 
Could  anybody  there  detect ; 

Which  shows  that  WILLIAM  managed  better 
than 

AH  SIN  himself,  and  he  a  Chinaman ! 

Dispensing  with  external  aids 

He  bade  the  chosen  card  appear, 
And  once  he  palmed  the  deuce  of  spades 

Behind  the  lobe  of  AUSTRIA'S  ear; 
And  once  with  brilliant  gestures  drew  the 

pack 

From  somewhere  down  a  Ducal  Person's 
back. 


Unblushing  he  would  force  a  card, 
Or  hold  it  up  his  hollowed  hand, 
For  he  had  practised  long  and  hard 

To  keep  his  plastic  features  bland ; 
But  all  his   crowning  skill  he  seemed  to 

save 

For  that  performance  where  you   "trace 
the  Knave." 

Three  cards  suffice  :  a  deal  is  done, 
Each  being  laid  upon  its  face  ; 

The  betting  odds  are  two  to  one 

You  miss  the  card  you  want  to  trace  ; 

This  trick  is  very  trying  to  the  brain, 

As  I  have  noticed  in  a  railway-train. 

The  Knave,  disguised  in  Prussian  blue, 
For  partners  had  a  pair  of  Kings  ; 

And  WILLIAM,  doing  all  he  know, 
So  dexterously  worked  the  things, 

That  all  the  company  was  sore  perplexed 

To   gather   where   the   Knave   was    going 
next. 

The  claims  of  space  forbid  me  to 
Enlarge  upon  his  other  tricks, 

Symbols,  I  take  it,  of  a  new 
And  fearful  phase  in  politics  ; 

They  tell  me  he  aspires  to  be  the  crack 

Shuffler  of  all  the  European  pack. 

I  dare  believe  it.     Some  may  hope 
The  KAISER'S  bolt  will  soon  be  shot ; 

They  limit  his  prodigious  scope ; 
I  must  confess  that  I  do  not ; 

Close  study  of  his  nature  proves  there  is 

No  end  to  WILLIAM'S  possibilities. 


OCTOBER  16,  1897.] 


I'l.NClf,   OR  TIIK    LONDON   CH.MMV.MM. 


173 


UNLIMITED  LOUIE  IN  SOHO. 

Oh !  Susannah !  at  the  Royalty  Theatre, 
is  a  mixture  of  materials  familiar  to  most 
playgoers.  Such  plot  as  there  is  seems  to 
oe  a  variation  on  the  Charley's  Aunt 
theme,  Susannah  being,  in  this  case, 
./.i/i  ii '.s  aunt.  And  yet  the  title  should 
have  been  Aurora,  a  character  henceforth 
to  be  identified  only  with  Miss  LOUIE 
FREEAR,  who,  as  the  slavey,"  is  a  ROBSON 
in  petticoats.  But  as  such  a  comparison  can 
be  interesting  only  to  middle-aged  play- 
goers, suffice  it  that  Miss  LOUIB  FRKKAK'H 
impersonation  of  a  lodiring-liouse  drudge, 
a  species  of  the  genus  Marchioness  "  im- 
mortalised by  DICKENS  in  The  Old  Curio- 
xihl  N/iop,  is  so  remarkable  as  to  convert  a 
very  ordinary  "farcical  comedy"  into  an 
extra-ordinary  attraction.  Oddly  enough, 
the  part  of  the  soft-hearted,  self-sacrificing, 
cockney  lodging-house  maid-of-all-work  is, 
apparently,  not  essential  to  the  meagre 
story,  strung  together  by  three  authors. 
Messrs.  MARK  AMBIENT,  ATWOOD,  and 
VAUN,  which  could  be  worked  out  by  all 
the  other  characters  without  Aurora's  as 
sistance ;  and  it  is  not  in  depreciation  of 
Mr.  CHARLES  GI.ENNEY'S  energetic  efforts 
as  the  young  doctor,  nor  of  the  ever-amus 
ing  eccentricities  of  Mr.  ALFRED  MALTBY 
as  a  kind  of  Pecksniffian  father  (admirably 
made  up),  to  say,  that  work  as  hard  as 
they  may,  the  piece  would  not  be  worth 
consideration  but  for  Miss  LOUIB  FREEAR 
as  Aurora. 

Strange  that  this  "  Farcical  Comedy  "  is 
for  the  poor  servant-girl  a  very  tragedy ; 
for  laugh,  as  all  must,  at  her  slatternly 
appearance,  and  at  the  slipshod  vulgarity 
of  her  manners,  yet  it  is  impossible  not  to 
be  touched  by  her  kindliness  of  heart,  by 


"Allfor'iml" 

her  devotion  to  her  ideal  love,  and  by  the 
cruel  disillusioning  revelation  which,  at  the 
supreme  moment  when  she  is  decked  out 
in  all  her  poor  finery,  fully  expecting  to 
become  her  darling  doctor's  bride,  wrings 


SONGS  AND  THEIR   SINGERS.     No.   XVI.! 

TlS  HARD  TO  GIVE  TUB  BAND   WHRRE  THE    HEART  CAN  BMV1R   BE  !  " 


from  her  broken  heart  the  despairing  cry, 
"Then  I'm  a  widow,"  as  she  falls  fainting 
on  the  floor,  and  the  curtain  rapidly  de- 
scends. This  is  tragedy,  and  if  we  were 
not  constrained  to  laugh,  by  reason  of  the 
absurdity  of  the  object  of  our  compassion, 
we  should  cry.  As  it  is,  "She's  a. poor 
pauper,  whom  nobody  owns,"  and  for  whom 
not  one  of  the  principal  characters  in  the 
story  evinces  the  slightest  regard. 

A  very  little  strengthening  of  the  con- 
ventional part  of  the  Doctor's  Page, 
played  bv  Miss  CLARA  JBCKS,  might  have 
turned  this  character  into  a  sort  of  Sam 
Huxter,  whose  good-natured  efforts  at 
consolation,  after  Pen's  desertion,  light- 
ened up  the  pale  and  grief-stricken  coun- 
tenance of  hapless  little  Fanny,  and  whom 
she  ultimately  married. 

Unlimited  LOTJIB  FREEAR  saves  and 
makes  the  piece  ;  and,  as  this  is  of  course 
what  the  combined  authors  intended,  they 
must  be  congratulated  on  their  sagacity. 
There  is  a  brilliant  season  in  prospect  for 
the  Royalty  as  long  as  this  bright  particu- 
lar star  Aurora  is  shining. 


A  PROFESSOR  of  astronomy  says  that  his 
services  are  so  poorly  paid  that  his  is  almost 
a  case  of  star-vation,  so  he  has  taken  to 
astrology  instead,  and  now  makes  a  con- 
siderable income  by  star-telling  revelations. 


WHAT  IS  LUGGAGE  ? 

[The  Magistrate*  hare  decided  that  a  abman  u 
not  entitled  to  charge  for  carrying  a  bicycle  on  his 
-M!I,  inasmuch  as  it  is  not  lugirage  within  the  mean  • 
ing  of  the  Act.—  Vide  Daily  Paper.] 

Miss  AMELIA  FITTERKINB  was  summoned 
by  WILLIAM  GROWLER,  who  claimed  two- 
pence in  respect  of  a  large  cage,  contain- 
ing a  poll-parrot.  The  learnea  magistrate 
held  that  neither  the  cage  nor  the  parrot 
werj  luggage  within  the  meaning  of  the 
Act.  Summons  dismissed. 

OEOROE  HANSOM,  a  cabman,  was  sum- 
momed  for  refusing  to  move  on.  De- 
fendant explained  that  he  had  been 
ordered  by  a  gentleman  to  drive  him 
to  the  Zoological  Gardens,  and  that  on  the 
roof  of  his  cab  he  carried  a  box  containing 
a  crocodile.  On  arriving,  the  gentleman 
refused  to  pay  an  extra  twopence  for  the 
box  or  the  crocodile.  Professor  WALKKB, 
the  well-known  traveller,  corroborated  the 
cabman's  statement.  Summons  dismissed; 
but  the  magistrate,  in  the  proceedings 
against  Professor  WALKKR,  decided  that 
complainant  was  not  entttled  to  make  any 
charge  for  the  crocodile,  it  not  being 
luggage  within  the  meaning  of  the  Act, 
nor  was  the  Professor  responsible  for  the 
box  which  the  crocodile  was  in,  as  that 
was  clearly  the  luggage  of  the  crocodile. 


180 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  16,  1897. 


0 


SPE.  t   D 

MOTTO  EXCEE.O 


THE  PASTIME  OF  CYCLING,  AS  IT  is  LIKELY  TO  BE  IN  SOME  PLACES  BEFORE  VERY  LONG  ! 


On  October  2— A  Revelation. 

Mr.  Giblets  (to  Young  Housewife).  May 
I  sell  you  a  brace  of  pheasants,  madam  ? 

Young  Housewife.  No,  tl.ank  you,  Mr. 
GIBLETS,  they  can  hardly  be  in  condition 
yet. 

Mr.  Giblets  (quite seriously).  Pardon  me, 
madam,  but  apparently  you  lire  unac- 
quainted with  the  new  and  speedy  process 
of  ripening  game. 

[Young  Houaetcife  falls  into  tlie  trap, 
and  also  into  hat  icater  with  het 
worse  half  at  dinner-time. 

A  Dubious  Compliment. 

Eector's  Wife  (after  Harvest  Festival). 
Well,  Mrs.  PJGGLESWADE,  how  did  you  like 
the  Bishop's  sermon  ? 

M  rx.  Pir/gleswade.  Oh  1  ma'am,  I  ain't 
been  so  much  upset  since  my  old  man  took 
me  to  the  Wariety  Theayter  in  London 
l,.st  August  twelvemonth,  and  'eard  a 
gen'leman  sing  about  his  grandmother':- 
cat. 

How  SEALY  ! — Sir,  would  not  the  appro- 
priate representative    of   British  interest* 
at  the  Seal-Fishery  Conference  be  the  Rt. 
Hon.  SEALE-HAYNE,  M.P.  ?          Yours, 
HANWBLLIO  EARLSWOOD. 

Notyet  Court,  Stilly  Isles. 


ABROAD  IN  THE  AUTUMN. 

Munich. — Imagine  the  patience  of  over  350,000  people  who  say 
willingly,  frequently,  and  at  full  length,  two  such  appalling  words 
as  Glyptothek  and  Pinakothek!  Is  it  the  stolid  indifference  of  the 
Teutonic  race,  or  the  good-natured  patience  of  the  Bavarians, 
which  has  made  them  refrain  from  any  abbreviation  ?  Impossible 
to  say — like  the  words  at  first.  Even  Germans  from  neighbour- 
ing cities,  accustomed  to  such  fearful  sounds  and  to  unending 
syllables  as  well  as  to  adjectival  phrases  of  staggering  length, 
which  the  newly  in  Germany  arrived  stranger  puzzle,  struggle 
with  them  in  anguish.  Englishmen,  pronouncing  the  barbarous 
names  in  the  Anglo-Greek  manner,  are  equally  astray.  Unaided 
by  a  knowledge  of  the  derivation  a  stranger  might  imagine  that 
two  places  with  such  names  were,  at  the  best,  a  lunatic  asylum 
and  a  mortuary.  Compare,  in  the  French  language,  la  Morgue, 
which  sounds  positively  pretty.  Only  an  extremely  solider  Herr, 
a  placid  drinker  of  endless  tankards  of  Munich  beer,  would  use 
such  names.  They  are  all  very  solid  gentlemen  here,  and  so 
contented  with  the  second  name  that  they  use  it  twice,  for  the 
Alte  and  the  Neue. 

Thn  Pinakotheks,  Old  and  New,  are  galleries  of  painting. 

While  Greek  and  Roman  statues  fill  the  harmless  Glyptothek. 
Nothing  worse.    No  fear  of  delicately -nurtured  women  fainting, 
Nor  will  courageous  men,  aghast,  to  flight  on  tiptoe  take. 

They  are  certainly  patient  people  here.  They  have  carts — 
especially  brewers'  drays — so  enormously  long,  that  the  length  of 
them  is  greater  than  the  width  of  the  average  roadway.  When 
one  of  them  crosses  a  street,  all  the  traffic  is  stopped ;  when  it 
has  to  turn  a  corner  the  horses  are  in  the  shop  windows  on  one 
side  and  the  back  of  the  cart  sweeps  all  the  foot-passengers  off 
the  pavement  on  the  opposite  side.  But  no  one  complains.  In 
England  the  windlass  is  a  simple  appliance  for  hoisting  materials 
in  a  new  building.  It  seems  unknown  here.  A  horse  is  attached 
to  the  rope,  and  is  led  along  the  street.  As  the  iron  girder,  or 
whatever  it  may  be,  reaches  the  fourth  or  fifth  story,  yards  and 
yards  of  rope  stretch  along  the  roadway  behind  the  horse.  The 
traffic  is  stopped,  the  foot-passengers  and  the  brewers'  drays, 
now  companions  in  misfortune,  are  together  swept  aside,  but  no 
one  complains.  Here  all  the  hard  work  of  the  bricklayers'  assist- 
ants is  done  by  women.  They  look  very  sturdy.  They  do  not 
complain.  But  the  grandest  instance  of  patience  is  the  game  of 
Bier.  In  England  we  sit  and  play  at  whist  or  chess,  some  even 
at  backgammon  or  poker ;  in  France  dominoes  wile  away  the 
idle  hours,  but  in  Bavaria  the  grandest  game  is  Bier.  It  is  a 
simple  game.  You  sit  and  smoke,  and  drink  till  you  can  drink  no 
more.  It  has  not  the  science  of  chess,  or  the  animation  of  poker, 
but  it  is  the  favourite  pastime  of  the  country  for  all  that.  Else- 
where, drinking  is  ridiculously  associated  with  thirst.  w°~  **» 


two  are  absolutely  distinct.  A  foreigner  cannot  hope  to  see  the 
end  of  the  game.  He  leaves  off  when  the  native  has  hardly  be- 
gun, or  for  him  it  would  be  Bier,  in  German,  at  the  beginning, 
and  bier,  in  English,  at  the  end. 

I  observe  in  several  shops  a  series  of  books  for  learning  lan- 
guages without  a  teacher.  They  include  "  Englisch  "  and  "Ameri- 
kanisch,"  two  separate  tongues.  Unhappily,  omit  to  buy  one  of 
the  latter,  and  so  lose  the  chance  of  learning  the  language. 
Shall  always  regret  this.  Would  be  so  useful  when  travelling. 

I  go  over  the  Royal  Palace.  It  can  only  be  visited  at  eleven, 
daily,  and  everyone  must  go  then.  There  are  perhaps  fifty  of 
us,  mostly  patient  Germans.  There  is  one  American  family.  I 
always  pity  the  American  children,  eight,  or  seven,  or  six  years 
old,  dragged  over  "Yewrope."  In  this  case  the  smallest  child 
cannot  be  more  than  five,  and  he  is  such  an  extremely  small  boy 
that  he  is  lost  among  the  boots  of  the  crowd  before  we  start.  If 
only  I  had  bought  those  dialogues  in  Amerikanisch  I  might  have 
urged  his  "  Poppa  "  to  leave  the  infant  at  the  hotel.  However, 
he  is  discovered,  and  we  are  conducted  round.  We  see  a  vast 
number  of  rooms,  mostly  ugly,  and  the  farther  we  go  the  smaller 
they  become.  The  American  baby  is  lost  and  found  regularly. 
His  cap  has  vanished,  his  hair  is  brushed  over  his  face,  his  little 
jacket  is  nearly  pulled  off  him,  but  he  is  a  brave  child.  He  does 
not  cry,  he  does  not  complain,  he  does  not  even  speak.  In  his 
tiny  breast  there  glows  the  silent,  Spartan  spirit  of  the  American 
tourist.  He  will  do  the  place  thoroughly.  He  sees  nothing  but 
the  boots  of  the  Germans,  but  he  goes  on  indomitably.  However 
small  the  room  all  the  party  naturally  wish  to  see  it,  as  they  have 
paid  for  admission  to  the  Palace.  At  last  we  reach  a  room,  a 
cabinet,  so  tiny  that  it  seems  to  have  been  designed  for  the 
American  infant.  He  would  fill  it  comfortably.  A  few  of  the 
fifty  squeeze  in,  he  with  them,  and  the  rest  look  sullenly  at  their 
backs  from  outside.  And  still  that  marvellous  child  comes  out 
alive!  He  is  not  even  injured,  for  later  on  I  see  him  hurried 
round  the  Alte  Pinakothek,  from  PERUGINO  to  RUBENS,  from 
MURILLO  to  DTTHER,  untired,  undaunted. 

ROBINSON  THB  ROVEE. 


Here  the 


SIR  HENRY'S  SUGGESTION. — Sir  HENRY  IRVING  has  said  that  a 
millionaire  would  make  a  good  use  of  some  of  his  money  were  he 
to  pay  companies  of  Players,— Sir  HENRY  AND  Co.,  as  he  himsel 
suggests,  among  them,— to  enliven  the  distressed  outlying  agri- 
cultural districts.     One  of  SHAKSPEARB'S  plays  must  at  least 
invariably  omitted,  as  every  county  can  already  show  any  number 
of  "  Hamlets." 

WHAT  herb  would  represent  a  crest  for  "CABTBB,  PATBBSON 
A  Co."?    Parsley  (parcelly). 


OCTOBER  23,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  TIIK   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


1S1 


IN    A    BLIND    DITCH. 

Sportsman  (to  friend,  whom  he  has  mounted  on  a  raw  four-year-old  for  "a  quiet  morning' 
mttvng")-  "  BRAVO,  JACK  !  WF.LL  DONE  !  THAT'S  JUST  WHAT  THE  CLUMSY  BEGGAR  WASTED 
TEACH  HIM  TO  LOOK  WHERE  HE'S  GOING  I" 


THE  TELEPHONE  CLERK. 

["  Do  the  operators  sometimes  become  exhausted 
before  the  day's  work  is  over  f  —  Sometimes  we  have 
operatois  in  hysterics  throngh  the  behaviour  of  the 
subscribers  on  the  wires. 

"Does  thut  often  occur?— We  have  had  it  fre- 
quently." 
Glasgow  Ttltphmu  Sfifice;  Government  Inquiry.] 

TINO-A-RINO  1     The  bells  are  ringing 
"  Are  you  there  f    Are  you  there  r  " 

And  the  wires  are  all  a-singing 

"  Are  you  there  ?     Are  you  there  ?  " 

They  are  buzzing  like  a  hive, 

"Come  along,  Miss!     Look  alive  I 

Hitch  me  on  to  4,  0,  5 — 
Are  you  there  ?  " 

Then  another  one  starts  bawling, 
"  Are  you  there  ?     Are  you  there  ? 


Now  then  I     Can't  you  hear  me  calling 

Are  you  there  ?    Are  you  there  P 
Hurry  "up  I     It 's  deuced  late, 
Number  2,  0,  4,  9,  8— 
Are  you  coming,  Miss?— Can't  wait! 
Are  you  there?" 

Then  the  lady  who  goes  shopping— 
"  Are  you  there  ?    Are  you  there  ? 

What  an  age  you  Ve  kept  me  stopping ! 
Are  you  there  ?    Are  you  there  ? 

Oh,  these  girls!     They  are  so  mazy, 

And  abominably  lazy  I 

They  're  enough  to  drive  one  crazy ! 
Are  you  there  ?  " 

Then  the  bells  ring  all  together, 
"  Are  you  there  ?    Are  you  there  ? 

And  a  dozen  voices  blether 
"  Are  you  there  ?    Are  you  there  ? 


\  n«l  we  try  to  persevere 
A  rnl  to  lend  attentive  oar, 
But  the  sort  of  thing  we  hear 
Is  "Are  you  there?" 

"Come  along,  Jack!     Here's  a  spree, 
I)i-iir  mamma's  (jone  out  to  tea  -  " 

N      ,  I  'in  briiitfinn  two  or  thm- 
Home  to  dinner,  Mrs.  V.  — 
"Oh,  you  arc.'     And  what  of  n 
You're  a  brute  --  "     "I  quite  a 
Still,  while  Britain  holds  the  sea 
"  \V  li:it  !  you  Ve  lost  your  new  latch-key  ? 
May  I  ask  where  you  might  be? 
Oh,  I  daresay!     Jubilee  I 
Now  mamma's  come  she  will  see  — 
"  What!  your  mother!    Oh,  the  d— 
"  Are  you  there  ?  " 


-, 


MR.  PUNCH'S  "  TATCHO  "  MODEL 
ADVERTISER. 

THE 

"JOSEPH  CHAMBERLAIN" 
All-round  Tonic  Bitten. 

"  MEJO  " 

Invigorates  the  Invertebrate. 
MEJO  IB  an  amiability-producing,  party - 
mshing,   policy-creating,    place-capturing 
>anacea. 

MEJO  makes  you  forgive. 
MEJO  is  as  gentle  as  a  dove. 
Everybody  loves  MEJO. 
ME      Nothing  else  counts. 
ME      Nobody  matters. 
ME      No  Tory  need  apply. 
All  Colonial  Premiers  take  it. 
KKCGER  was  brought  up  en  it. 

Every  bottle  bears  the  following  certifi- 
cate:— "I  guarantee  that  this  preparation 
U  made  according  to  MY  POLICY. 

"JOSEPH  CHAMBERLAIN." 


JO. 
JO. 
JO. 


THE  HALL  CAINE  VOICE  JUJUBB. 

"  MANXO," 

A  genuine  Throat-polisher  and  Tongue- 
tickler. 

Makes  detraction  dumb. 
Criticism  cringes  before  it. 
"  MANXO  "  for  Men. 
"  MANXO  "  for  Moralists. 
"  MANXO  "  for  Missionaries. 
"  MANXO"  for  Music  Halls. 
The  Bight  Hon.  W.  E.  GLADSTONE  says 
"  Manxo  is  my  favourite  jujube,  and,  were 
it  not  for  the  fact  that  I  have  now  ceased  to 
take  an  active  part  in  the  politics  of  the  day 
though  the  disgraceful  action  of  the  Euro- 
pean Concert  calls    aloud  for  redress,   ' 
might  yet  hope,  by  the  aid  of  Manxo, 
make  my  voice  heard  even  in  the  palace  o 
the  Assassin." 

"  MANXO." 

Every  bottle  bears  the  following  osrtifi 
cate : — "I  guarantee  that  this  is  a  colossa 
preparation  made  according  to  my  formulae 
"  HAJX  CAUTK." 

THE  "HALL  CAINK  VOICE  JUJUBE  CO. 

FBOM  OUR  OWN  IRRKPRESSIBLB  ON»  (itil 
baulking  capture) .— Q-  What  is  the  mos 
suitable  sign  of  mourning  for  an  unpro- 
ductive egg?     A.  Why,  a  hatch-meant,  o 
course! 


voi.  cxiir. 


182 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  23,  1897. 


OCTOBER  23,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


183 


DARBY  JONES  NATURALLY  ELATED. 

UONUUHKO  SIB, — Once  more  has  the  old 
Warrior  prophesied  the  solution  of  the 
t'esurewitch  Conundrum,  and  placed  you 
and  your  readers  in  the  proud  position  for 
adding  substantial  luxuries  to  wonted 
Winter  provender.  Were  I  an  advertising 
tipster,  I  would  insert  the  following  in 
every  leading  journal,  including  the 


Who  guvo  Merman  at  fourteen  to  one  P 
DARBY  JUNKS. 
Who    plumped    for    Merman  t      DARBY 

JuNKS. 

Who  has  enriched  landsmen  with  a 
Merman  f  DARBY  JUNES. 

Who  knew  that  Mr.  JERSEY  must  know 
congenitally  all  about  a  Merman  t  DARBY 
JUNKS. 

Who  told  of  the  true  tale  of  a  Merman  ( 
DAKIIY  JONES. 

Who  foretold  that  Merman  was  a  good 
birthday  gift  P  DARBY  JONES. 

Who  at  the  present  moment  is  expecting 
the  reward  of  Merman' t  success  P  DABBY 
JONES. 

But,  as  you  know  well,  honoured  Sir,  the 
obviously  laudatory  paragraphs  in  question 
are  merely  the  playful  lucubrations  of  an 
Observant  and  Triumphant  Brain.  Armed 
with  a  well-lined  note-case,  and  still  con- 
tinuing to  drink  the  health  of  the  Jersey 
Lily,  I  feel  in  but  poor  fettle  to  stain  my 
fingers  with  blue-black  ink  were  it  not  for 
the  Public  Duty,  which  compels  me,  even 
so  long  beforehand,  to  draw  the  attention 
of  my  clients  to  the  Prodigious  Chance 
possessed  by  the  other  Jersey  Crack  for 
capturing  the  Cambridgeshire,  with  whom 
I  couple  the  American  Saint,  despite  the 
over-the-Herriug-Pond  jockey,  who.  when 
riding,  appears  to  be  picking  the  horse's 
teeth.  As  a  Princely  Turfite  observed  to 
me  at  the  Subscription  Rooms,  "Channel 
Island  cattle  thrive  well  at  Newmarket." 

A  tip  in  time  saves  many  mischances, 
though  later  on  I  shall  revert  to  the  sub- 
ject in  poetio  vein.  Meantime  here  is 
Erose  for  those  who  con.  I  was  pleased, 
onoured  Sir,  to  ascertain  that  you  and 
your  distinguished  associates  were  not  too 
exalted  to  accept  the  ipse  dixit  of  the 
Garrulous  Old  Man,  and  in  this  connection 
I  may  mention  that  my  Wine  Cellar  and 
Cigar  Cabinet  sadly  need  replenishing. 
You  know,  Sir,  the  adage  about  a  wink 
and  a  nod.  I  will  say  no  more.  I  was  in 
rare  luck  by  the  Ditch,  for  I  met  an  Im- 
poverished Nobleman,  who,  having  owed 
me  five  golden  sovereigns  for  five  lengthy 
years,  was  sufficiently  alive  to  the  respon- 
sibilities of  the  situation  as  to  hand  me 
five  shillings  of  the  amount  due,  with  a 
verbal  I  O  U  for  the  balance.  And  then 
he  put  a  frigid  hundred  (on  the  nod)  on 
Carlton  Grange  for  the  big  race.  There 
are  some  bookmakers,  honoured  Sir,  who, 
although  possessing  the  vocal  strength  ol 
Mr.  RIOHABD  DCNN,  are  nevertheless, 
under  certain  circumstances,  a*  beautifully 
innocent  as  proverbial  pigeons.  But  they 
are  nevertheless  called  hawks  by  those 
altogether  ignorant  of  Turf  Falconry. 
Awaiting  your  ever-welcome  Souvenir  of 
success,  I  am  ever,  honoured  Sir, 

Your  devoted 
Cap  and  Jacket  Poet  Laureate, 

DARBY  JUNES. 

P.S. — Please  let  me  remind  you  never 
to  cross  your  cheques  until  a  difference  of 
opinion  between  myself  and  my  Financial 
Agents  is  adjusted. 


NOTES 


TRAVEL. 


Foreign  Husband  (whose  Wife  is  going  to  remain  longer).   "  GIF  HE  Two  DICKKTS. 

FOR  MB  TO   COME   BACK,    AND   VON   FOR  MY   VlFE   NOT  TO  COMB   BACK  !  " 


VON 


At  the  Illustrated  Atlas  Office. 

Editor  (to  Subordinate).  Now  what  are 
we  to  do  with  these  sketches  of  Russian 
prisoners  being  taken  to  Siberia  ? 

Subordinate.  Mightn't  we  call  them 
"  Miners  on  the  way  to  Klondike  "  P 

Editor.  Excellent  idea  I  Just  knock  out 
the  Cossacks,  and  fill  in  with  snow-drifts. 

BEANS  FOB  BACON. — County  Court  Judge 
BAOON  of  Whitechapel,  according  to  a  re- 
ported case  in  the  Daily  Mail  for  the  15th, 
seems  to  entertain  a  strong  aversion  to  the 
litigious  Hebrews  of  Whitecbapel.  But, 
per  contra,  all  the  Jews,  of  Whitechapel 
and  everywhere,  have  a  rooted  aversion  to 
Bacon.  So  'tis  millions  to  one  against  His 
Honour. 


Books  we  may  anticipate. 

BY  the  author  of  Social  Switzerland : — 
"  Larky  Lapland,"  "  Rowdy  Roumania," 
"  Attractive  Armenia,"  "  Vivacious  Vene- 
zuela," "  Touchy  Texas,"  &c. 

By  the  author  of  Betide  the  Guns:  — 
"  On  Top  of  the  Barracks,"  "  Before  the 
Colonel,1'  "  Under  the  Mess-Table,"  "  All 
Round  the  Major,"  Ac. 

Nora  FBOM  NKWMARKET — THE  ORSARB- 
WITCH. — Mr.  JBKSEY,  better  known  as 
Mrs.  LANOTBY,  put  his  or  her  trust  in  a 
Mer(e)man,  and  was  not  disappointed. 


PLENTY  of  coal  in  Kent,  seamingly. 


184 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  23,  1897. 


THE    ODOUR    OF    THE    FLOWER    IS    GONE!" 


["  FOXES.  —  Exceedingly  handsome  vixen,  tame,  hand-reared,  frolicsome  and  amusing,  pink  of  condition,  full-grown,  no  smell.     15s.,  or  exchange 

anything  ;  worth  60«."—  The  Sataar.] 

Huntsman  (after  severed  ineffectual  casts  Jor  line  of  hunted  fox).  "  IT  AIN'T  NO  USB,  TOM.     BLOWED  IF  I  DON'T  THINK  HE'S  ONE  OF  THAT 

BREED  THAT  "AVEN'T  GOT  ANY  SMELL  I  " 


JONES,  WYNDHAM  &  CO.    LIMITED  LIAR-ABILITY. 

EVERYBODY  interested  in  the  Drama  will  heartily  congratulate 
Mr.  HENRY  ARTHUR  JONES,  first  on  having  written  the  best 
comedy  that  has  been  seen  for  some  time  on  the  English  stage, 
and,  secondly,  on  his  exceptionally  good  fortune  in  procuring 
for  it  so  excellent  a  company  as  Mr.  CHARLES  WYNDHAM  has 
gathered  round  him  at  the  Criterion  Theatre.  It  is  not  too  much 
to  say  that  there  is  not,  in  the  whole  cast,  one  single  rule  even 
indifferently  played.  All  concerned,  from  the  principal  charac- 
ter down  to  a  supernumerary  servant,  are  at  their  very  best. 
So  also  is  the  author.  The  third  act  is  perfect  comedy  ;  the  wit 
lies  in  the  situation  developed  by  dialogue  that  is  never  once 
strained  for  effect,  and  by  perfectly  natural  acting,  that  is, 
by  acting  of  the  highest  artistic  merit.  From  the  commence- 
ment of  this  act  until  within  measurable  distance  of  its  climax 
the  audience  laugh  heartily;  the  enjoyment  of  the  ingeni- 
ous complication  being  intensified  with  the  arrival  of  each 
character  on  the  scene.  The  actors  are  perfectly  serious ;  the 
audience,  being  in  the  secret,  revel  in  their  perplexities  and  in 
the  prospective  tragedy  of  their  troubles.  This  third  act  is  a 
masterpiece,  and  indeed  it  would  be  difficult  to  name  any  other 
comedy  of  our  time  in  which  there  occurs  a  better  scene,  or  even 
its  equal. 

An  author  creates  his  characters,  and  has  an  unquestionable 
right  to  do  as  he  likes  with  them  within  the  elastic  limits  of  pro- 
bability. It  may  be  doubted  whether  in  the  fourth  act,  which  is 
at  a  great  disadvantage  after  so  brilliant  a  third,  the  author  has 
not,  in  a  weak  and  tender-hearted  moment,  allowed  himself  to 
yield  to  the  pleadings  of  Miss  MARY  MOORE  on  behalf  of  Lady 
Jessica  Nepean,  and  caused  that  irritating,  flirty,  flighty  little 
person,  the  liar-in-chief,  to  make  just  one  attempt  at  winning 
the  sympathy  of  the  audience.  This  is  most  decidedly  a  mistake  ; 
she  should  be  a  feather-headed,  vain,  silly  flirt  to  the  last;  there 
should  have  been  no  secret  parting  with  her  devoted  lover,  leaving 
the  audience  in  doubt  as  to  what  really  took  place  at  that  final 


meeting ;  and  if  the  husband  (admirably  played  by  Mr.  STANDING) 
is  compelled  by  the  author  to  propose  an  enjoyable  supper- 
party,  we  ought  to  see  at  a  glance  how,  in  another  second, 
she  will  be  all  smiles  and  enthusiasm  over  a  delicious  pate  and 
inspiring  champagne.  And  in  this  fourth  act,  too,  Mr.  CHARLES 
WYNDHAM,  making  his  preparations  for  going  to  Africa  next 
morning,  is  perpetually  breaking  off  in  the  midst  of  his  serious 
speeches,  suddenly  remembering  that  "he  must  go  on  with  his 
packing,"  just  as  in  The  Headless  Man  he  was  always  interrupting 
himself  with  "  Now  I  must  write  to  my  uncle."  Presumably  there 
is,  in  this  act,  more  of  CHARLES  WYNDHAM,  as  Christopher 
Veering,  than  of  HENRY  AUTHOR  JONES.  Also  the  love-making 
of  Sir  Christopher,  and  his  final  acceptance  by  the  widow,  Mrs. 
Crespin  (Miss  JANBTTE  STEER),  seems  to  have  been  an  after- 
thought for  the  sake  of  "keeping  up  the  Christopher." 

That  the  celebrated  Af  rican  explorer,  the  terribly  -  in  - 
earnest  Edward  Falkner  (Mr.  THALBERG) — L'homme  qwi  ne  rit 
pas — should  have  allowed  even  his  best  friend  to  continue  bully- 
ing and  lecturing  him,  "  all  for  his  good,"  as  if  he  were  a  naughty 
school-boy,  is,  granted  the  character  as  described  and  pourtrayed, 
a  step  beyond  the  bounds  of  probability.  Such  a  man  might 
just  tolerate  a  moral  lecture  from  his  dearest  friend  once,  and 
only  once  ;  but  he  would  then  have  said,  "  My  dear  fellow,  many 
thanks.  You  mean  well ;  but — I  don't  wish  to  hear  any  more  on 
this  subject, — and  so  good  day."  Any  further  interference  would 
have  been  resented  as  an  impertinence  by  such  a  man  of  action 
as  is  this  resolute  African  explorer. 

Mr.  VANE-TEMPEST  and  Mr.  ALFRED  BISHOP  are  admirable  ;  as 
are  all  the  ladies  in  the  play  without  exception. 

That  the  Criterion  is  provided  with  an  exceptional  play  which 
will  have  an  exceptionally  long  run,  there  cannot  be  a  doubt ; 
so,  once  again, — congratulations  to  all  concerned  in  it. 


REMARK  OF  AN  ARDENT  QUOIT-PLAYER  ON  EXPERIENCING  THB 
FIRST  FROST  OF  THE  YEAR. — Now  is  the  winter  of  our  diskos-tent. 


OCTOBER  23,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


185 


OUK  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

"Dainty"  is  the  word  for  it.  Nothing  short  of  the  epithet 
'  dainty  "can  be  applied  to  the  little  pocket-volume  containing  The 
ltii]H'  nf  tlie  Lock,  illustrated  in  W«ildtj-fantaatk  style  by  Mr. 
AUBREY  BEAKDHLEY.  Yet  the  fantastic  has  great  attractions. 
It  invites  close  inquiry  into  details  by  tht;  aid  of  a  powerful 
D^gnifying-cUtt,  otherwise  may  be  lost  some  of  tln<  exquisite 
imning  which  is  the  .s;»riii/if«:  of  this  arti.st .  Yi-t ,  Iti/nnln  at  her 
toilet-table,  having  her  hair  dressed  by  her  maid,  while  the  park 
in  perspective  is  seen  through  the  open  window,  is  tin-  IH--I,  tut  it 
is  the  simplest  of  them  all.  Of  the  "strange  phantom  rising  as 
the  mists  arise  "  (p.  32),  it  can  only  be  said  t  hat  it  is  a  marvellous 
representation  of  the  nightmare  of  an  artist  who  does  himself  not 
wisely,  but  far  too  well,  at  an  unnecessary  supper.  "Only  that 
and  nothing  more."  The  book  is  a  dainty  curiosity,  and  there  is 
not  a  collector  of  such  literary  curios  who  should  be  without  this 
latest  edition  of  POPE'S  "Heroi-coinical  poem,"  The  Itape  of  the 
Lock,  as  published  by  LEONARD  SUITHEKS  of  the  Uoyal  Arcade,  W. 

By  Itight  of  tiwvrd  (HuxCHiNBON)  is  a  book  my  Baronit«  recom- 
mends the  gentle  reader  not  to  pick  up  about  the  hour  at  which 
she  (or  he)  ought  to  be  going  to  bed.  It  will  be  found  difficult 
to  lay  it  down  before  reading  it  through.  The  plot  is  most  in- 
genious, a  quite  original  development  of  the  Jekyll  and  Hyde 
idea.  The  wide  difference  is,  that  there  are  actually  two  men 
concerned,  the  merging  of  their  identity  being  rendered  possible 
by  singularly  complete  personal  resemblance.  The  Cornish  man 
having  assumed  the  name  and  position  of  the  Russian  officer  who 
meanwhile  has  fled  the  country,  works  his  way  through  the  laby- 
rinth of  danger  and  difficulty  under  the  guidance  of  Mr.  MAHCH- 
UONT'B  skilful  band.  From  the  safety  of  a  comfortable  chair  the 
reader  follows  with  breathless  interest  the  frequent  feints  and 
bwitt  '.urns. 

Mr.  MOKI.KY  ROBERTS  knows  his  Thames  from  Chelsea  to 
Rotherhithe,  and  has  the  gift  of  peopling  it  with  pictures  of  men 
and  things,  not  forgetting  women.  In  Atawrice  Quain  (HUTCUIN- 
BON),  the  half  of  London  who  have  not  the  slightest  idea  how  the 
other  half  live,  will  find  the  secret  disclosed.  The  life  is  sordid, 
not  always  honest,  occasionally  brutal.  Mr.  ROBERTS  has  suc- 
ceeded in  investing  it  with  a  garment  of  romance  that  makes  it 
grimly  attractive.  Above  all,  there  is  the  river  in  its  varied 
moods  and  aspects,  at  morning,  noon,  and  night,  painted  witt 
•kill  and  force  my  Baronite  does  not  remember  to  be  eioeedec 
in  other  pages.  THE  BARON  DE  B.-W. 

OEOSS   QUESTIONS  AND  VEBY  STRAIGHT  ANSWERS, 
(Proposed  Addition  to  the  Soldier's  Pocket-book  by  Viscount  W-ls-l-y.) 

Question.  So  JOHN  BCLL  has  been  idiot  enough  not  to  add  a 
•ingle  battalion  to  his  Army  since  1870  f 

Answer.  That  is  the  ridiculous  fact — until  this  year. 

Q.  And  the  dolt  has  done  something  at  last  P 

A.  Yes ;  the  silly  fellow  has  authorised  an  increment  of  8, (XX 
men. 

Q.  Good  gracious !     Is  this  enough  'f 

A.  By  Jingo  I     No. 

Q.  Well,  out  with  it — why  not? 

A.  Because  only  a  fool  doesn't  know  that  during  the  last 
quarter  of  a  century  we  have  increased  our  territory  by  millions 
of  miles. 

Q.  Then  what  on  earth  are  we  to  do  ? 

A.  Why,  stir  up  JOHN  BULL  with  a  long  pole  and  give  him  no 
peace  until  he  is  wide  awake  to  his  responsibilities. 

Q.  And  how  is  this  to  be  done — by  hanging  somebody  ? 

A.  Well,  that  would  be  the  best  way,  but  as  that  sort  of  thing 
is  out  of  date,  and  also  illegal,  perhaps  it  is  safer  to  attain  the 
same  effect  by  a  rattling  good  alarmist  speech  delivered  at  a 
widely-reported  public  dinner. 

The  highest  possible  Record  of  Character. 

New  Rector  of  Swaddlington  (to  Sexton).  I  see  that  the  forge 
is  close  by  the  church,  GBASBMORK.     I  hope  that  the  smith  is  on 
of  our  friends  ? 

.sVrfon.  Why,  bless  'ee,  yes,  Sir,  'e  '•  the  only  man  in  all  the 
parish  as  settled  over  the  Cesarewitch. 

NOTICE  TO  CORRESPONDENTS. — Any  one  sending  in  a  joke,  men 
tioning  kiss,  Ac.,  with  reference  to  the  Ladies  Billiard  Match 
will  be  prosecuted  according  to  Joe  Millerian  Law.  Mr.  Punc 
intends  to  take  a  long  rest  over  this  affair,  and,  according  to  th 
canons  of  the  table,  refuses  to  be  drawn  by  the  In-cue-baiter 
even  where  hazardous  damsels  are  concerned.  Let  the  guilt 
parties  accept  this  tip  in  time  I 


-'      '  ;'   I 

-id 


THE    FORGOTTEN    PAST 

Mechanic  (to  Policeman).  "WHAT'S  COIN'  ON  'EKE,  THEN  f 
Policeman.    "DECORATING   THK    STATUE   TO   COMMEMORATE    TH* 
BATTLE  or  TRAKALOAK." 
Mechanic.  "  On  !    I  NEVER  KNEW  TUB  BATTLE  WAS  FOUGHT  'EKE  I 


"  DOUBTFUL  FREQUENTATION8." 

[Mr.  WH-BTL-H,  baring  had  a  packet  returned  to  him  marked  "  Mot  kuo 
at  the  E.  A.,"  forward!  the  lame  to  a' daily  paper  with  the  charatterutic 
comment :— "  In  these  dayi  of  doubtful  frequeuUUon*,  it  if  my  rare  good  for- 
tune to  be  able  to  send  you  an  unaolicited,  official,  and  filial  certificate  o 
character."] 

J.  MoN.  W.  cantat.— 
IN  these  days  of  "  f requentations  "  that  as  "  doubtful "  may  be 

classed, 

You  cannot  be  too  careful  where  your  lot  in  life  ia  cast ; 
If  a  man  '•  a  past  practitioner  in  the  art  of  making  foes, 
lie  needs  to  keep  a  sharp  look-out  to  know  who  'tis  he  knows  1 

True  genius  is  eclectic — I  avoid  the  common  herd 

Of  mere  R.A.'s  who  boil  their  pot  with  canvases  absurd. 

They  don't  know  me — what  '§  more,  they  sha'n't ;  such  mediocre 

flocks 
Are  not  the  sort  I  used  to  see  at  my  smart  "  Ten,  o'clocks  I  " 

I  might  have  joined  the  House  of  Lords,  or  been,  at  least,  M.P., 
Commander-in-Chief ,  Lord  Chancellor,  or  top  of  any  tree, 
But  that  I  fear  to  find  myself  in  a  situation  fixed 
Where  frequentations  have  a  way  of  being  badly  mixed. 

And  now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  the  world 's  a  doubtful  place, 
Frequented  by  a  dubious  tribe  known  as  the  human  race  ; 
It  isn't  safe  to  walk  abroad — you  ne'er  know  whom  you  '11  meet, 
So  a  desert  isle  's  the  spot  for  me,  and  not  the  crowded  street  I 


DIPLOMATIC  MAXIMS  1  L'AMERICALNE. 

WHEN  an  English  Minister  says  one  thing  he  means  another. 

Hope  disappointed  warrants  astonishment. 

"  \S  on't "  in  England  denotes  "  Will  "  in  the  United  States. 

If  a  French  umpire  decides  adversely  to  Transatlantic  preten 
sions.  a  good  thing  to  do  is  to  get  further  umpires  from  Russia 
and  Japan. 

Bunkum  is  good,  but  bluster  is  safer. 

A  lie  ready  to  hand  is  better  than  the  truth  in  the  bush. 

Although  it  is  easy  to  climb  up,  it  is  not  difficult — when  need 
be — to  climb  down. 


186 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  23,  1897. 


She.  ^'BUT  SURKLY   YOU    BELIEVE  THAT    ,  HE  SINS  OF  THE   FATHER  ARE   VISITED  ON  THE  CHILDREN?" 

He.  "RATHER.     MY  GOVERNOR  PROMISED  TO  LET  ME  HAVE  A  FIVER  THIS  MORNING;  BUT  HE  LOST  IT  AT  POKER  IAST  NIGHT  so 

I    DIDN  T  GET   IT  ! 


A  JEWEL  OP  AN  IDEA. 

["  A  machine  for  making  matrimonial  proposals  is  the  latwt  novelty.  This 
interesting  development  is  to  be  seen  in  a  Weot  End  jeweller's  window,  and 
at  first  sight  appears  to  be  an  innocent  marguerite  daisy  in  white  enamel  upon 
•old;  but,  by  moving  an  adroitly  hidden  spring  in  the  calyx,  the  single 


lowom  expands  into^a  double  one,  and  upon  the  newly-revealed  petals"  is 
tous  question." — Daily  Telegraph.] 


written  the  all-momentous 


WE  understand  that  a  well-known  Peer  is  shortly  to  figure  as 
defendant  in  no  fewer  than  six  breach-of-promise  actions.  It  seems 
that,  admiring  a  new  variety  of  brooch  exhibited  in  a  jeweller's 
window,  he  purchased  half-a-dozen,  and  gave  them  to  various 
ladies  of  his  acquaintance.  He  was  wholly  unaware  that,  on 
pressing  a  spring,  there  appeared  inscribed  on  each  brooch  the 
words  '  Will  you  marry  me  ?  "  Each  of  the  recipients,  however, 
speedily  discovered  the  inscription,  and  each  wrote  an  affection- 
ate and  an  affirmative  answer  to  the  question,  whence  the  un- 
pleasant position  in  which  his  lordship  now  finds  himself. 

THERE  is  no  truth  in  the  report  that  Lord  BATTLEAXE  has  con- 
sented to  his  son's  proposed  marriage.  On  the  contrary,  we 
understand  that  when,  in  accordance  with  the  prevailing  fashion, 
;he  young  gentleman  presented  his  father  with  a  scarf-pin  bear- 
ng  the  words  "  Nothing  will  induce  me  to  give  her  up  I "  Lord 
BATTLEAXE  replied  by  giving  his  son  a  delicately-engraved  ring, 
inscribed  simply,  "  Cut  off  with  a  shilling." 

IN  selecting  jewellery  conveying  messages,  it  is  well  to  be 
particular  that  each  article  is  sent  to  the  person  for  whom  it  is 
ntended.  We  heard  lately  of  a  young  man  who  chose  two 
ockets  as  presents,  one  meant  for  an  elderly  relative,  containing 
the  words,  "  Old  age  like  thine  is  more  than  youth  or  beauty," 


the  other,  intended  for  his  fiancee,  reading,  "  Darling,  my  love, 
my  sweet,  my  heart's  delight ! "  By  a  stupid  blunder  on  the 
part  of  the  shopkeeper,  his  aged  maiden  aunt  received  the  .latter, 
and  the  young  lady  who  was — but  is  no  longer — his  fiancee,  the 
former  of  these  lockets,  with,  in  each  case,  the  most  disastrous 
results. 

THE  daughter  of  an  American  millionaire  is  said  to  have  ordered 
a  gross  of ^dainty  gold  charms,  each  being  an  exquisite  model  of 
a  boct.  These  are  intended  to  convey  her  answer  to  the  numer- 
ous suitors  who  present  her  with  a  "proposal  brooch."  Unlike 
those  articles,  however,  they  contain  no  hidden  inscription  ;  Miss 
DOLLARFTJL  considers  that  the  delicate  symbolism  conveyed  by 
her  act  of  giving  her  would-be  wooers  the  boot  will  be  a  suffi- 
ciently explicit  answer  to  their  proposals. 


WE  understand  that  Mr.  ROBINSON,  the  eminent  novelist,  is 
utilising  this  new  and  admirable  method  of  making  proposals  in 
his  forthcoming  story.  There  is  a  grand  scene,  we  believe,  when 
the  hero  and  heroine,  who  are  both  too  bashful  to  speak  to  each 
other,  find  themselves  alone  in  a  garden  together.  The  hero 
attempts  to  offer  his  beloved  a  proposal  jewel,  but  the  bashful 
maiden  is  loth  to  receive  it,  and  it  is  only  when  he  has  chased  hei 
round  the  garden  for  half  an  hour  that  he  contrives  at  length 
to  slip  it  down  her  back.  It  would  be  unfair  to  the  author  to 
reveal  the  subsequent  events  of  his  story,  but  we  may  hint  that 
many  exciting  episodes  follow.  The  heroine  orders  at  her 


and  the  most  thrilling  complications  ensue. 


PUNCH,    OR   THE   LONDON   CHAKIVARI.—  OOTOBEB  23,  1897. 


A  WARNING. 


FAIHJEB  THAMES  (to  LONDON).  "  TYPHOID !    LOE'  BLESS  YOU,  MA'AM !    I  SHA'NT  DO   YOU  ANY  HARM 
AS  LONG  AS  YOU  KEEP  OTHERS  FROM  II ARMING  ME  1 " 


OCTOBER  23,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


189 


RESEARCHES    IN    ANCIENT    SPORTS. 

FOOTBALL  MATCH. — ROMULUS  ROVERS  v.  NERO  HALF-BACKI. 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Betrothed  Individual  of  the  Weaker  Sex  i*  tur- 
priifd  by  intelligence  from  San  Frand'co. 

A  I.ITTI.K  line  of  love  you  send 

Across  the  "  k  erring-pond  "  to  me, 
Who  was  and  is  and  will  be  friend 

So  long  as  friend  I  yet  may  be  ; 
So  long  as  in  the  far,  far  West, 

You  don't  forget  your  plighted  troth, 
And  do  remember  that  the  best 

Of  all  this  life  is  near  for  both. 
There  waa  a  time,  I  think,  my  own, 

When  separation  seemed  an  ill 
Scarce  to  be  borne  by  one  alone, — 

Who  had  Love's  message  to  fulfil. 
And  yet  you  crossed  that  wretched  sea, 

On  Calif ornian  coast  to  roam, 
Impelled,  you  said,  while  you  were  free. 

To  look  upon  Great  Freedom's  Home  I 
You  write  with  something  of  reproof 

About  Miss  ANGELINA  BROWN — 
From  her  I  've  strictly  held  aloof 

Since  you,  my  love,  went  out  of  town. 
A  pelican  could  not  be  more 

On  desert  sand  regenerate, 
And  yet  your  tone  is  very  sore 

When  writing  from  the  Golden  Gate. 

*  •  »  •  • 

A  cablegram  I     The  horrid  tiling 

Ha*  sent  a  quirer  through  my  brain  I 
That  hardened  knock  1     That  brazen  ring  I 

Are  prophets  of  a  coming  pain  I 
"Mamed  to-day"  the  message  reads, 

Not  naming  the  presumptuous  clown. 
From  you  my  heart  (don't  think  it  bleeds) 

IB  turning — yearning  for  Mil*  Brown  I 


THE  BIKEE  BIKED. 
HBNPBOK'D  he  was.    He  learnt  to  bike. 
"  Now  I  can  go  just  where  I  like," 
He  chuckled  to  himself.    But  ghe 
Had  learnt  to  bike  as  well  as  he, 


And.  what  was  more,  had  bought  a  new 
Machine  to  sweetly  carry  two. 
Ever  together  now  they  go, 
He  ughing,  "This  is  wheel  and  woe." 


AN  UNCIVIL  WAE. 

["  On  account  of  the  etiike  of  engineers  in  Eng- 
land, the  Japanese  Government  has  placed  its  order 
for  a  new  armoured  cruiser,  representing  about  half 
a  million  sterling,  in  the  handa  of  the  French."— 
Daily  Paper.] 

YE  demagogues  of  England, 

That  draw  your  Union's  fees, 
And  smile  to  watch  our  foreign  trade 

Drift  out  across  the  seasl 


Belated  lie  our  hollow  ships, 

The  sport  of  jealous  foes. 
While  you  bluff  loud  enough 

And  the  stormy  language  flows, 
While  you  bravely  egg  your  clients  OB 

And  the  stormy  language  flows. 

Tin  y  are  Britannia's  bulwarks, 

Her  towers  along  the  deep, 
With  thrin  it  rests  that  name  and  fame 

Shall  still  be  hers  to  keep ! 
Care  you  at  all  down  what  descent 

Your  country's  credit  goes, 
While  they  shirk  England's  work 

And  the  mob-oration  flows, 
Hoist  upon  their  own  petards 

While  the  mob-oration  flows  P 

Ye  Chroniclers  of  England, 

Our  workmen's  boasted  friends, 
Who  fly  the  agitator's  flag 

For  certain  private  ends  I 
Good  must  it  be  to  feel  how  fast 

Your  circulation  grows, 
While  your  hacks  bend  their  backs 

And  the  ink  serenely  flows, 
While  they  play  the  game  of  life  and  death 

And  the  easy  liquid  flows. 

Capitalists  of  England  I 

How  long  shall  these  things  be? 
How  long  shall  labour  idly  stand 

B;irred  out  with  lock  and  key? 
Noblette  oblige  I    Your  nation's  hopes 

Are  in  the  deadly  throes  I 
Find  a  way  how  best  to  pay 

The  debt  that  honour  o 
They  win  the  most  that  pay  the  debt 

A  patriot's  honour  owes. 


190 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHAKIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  23,  1897. 


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OCTOBER  23    1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE   LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


TUB  BOOM  IN  OOM. 

I.— "Look-  IIKIIK  ri-i>N  mis  rn  II'IIK." 
UK  is  not  fair  to  vulgar  eye* 

As  ninny  monarrhs  be; 
My  hero's  merit  rather  lies 

In  rare  simplicity ! 
From  childhood  up  his  natural  drift 

Was  toward  the  ways  of  virtue, 
Excess  in  which  peculiar  «ift 

Can  seldom  really  hurt  yon. 

Though  swollen  big  from  being  small, 

No  airs  does  he  assume  ; 
He  keeps  the  state  of  honest  PAUL 

Whose  other  name  is  OOM  ; 
No  proud  tiara  decks  his  poll, 

He  wears  a  common  topper, 
Having  the  economic  soul 

Ideal  in  a  Dopper. 

Hi'  only  meal  is  mutton-broth, 

He  never  tasted  sack  ; 
A  coat  of  broad  and  sable  cloth 

Hangs  down  his  modest  back ; 
And  though  he  paints  his  nether  guise 

With  just  a  touch  of  tartan, 
His  taut  ensemble  justifies 

The  epithet  of  Spartan. 

He  sits  at  home  with  pensive  brows, 

Taxing  his  teeming  brain 
To  answer  wires  about  his  spouse 

From  Mr.  CHAMBERLAIN  ; 
And  when  at  times  the  stress  of  things 

Would  tend  to  make  him  falter, 
He  clears  his  fluty  throat  and  sings 

A  segment  from  the  Psalter. 

No  courtly  plumage  puts  he  on, 

Still  humbly  h.-  behaves, 
When  sallying  out  to  sit  upon 

His  Haad  of  burgher  braves  ; 
Proceeding  in  a  simple  fly 

Or  Government  four-wheeler, 
He  goes  his  way  escorted  by 

A  single  mounted  peeler. 

II. — "Ann  ov  TIMS." 
So  sana;  I  once,  so  told  the  charm 

Of  OOM'B  alluring  grace  ; 
But  now  I  notice  with  alarm 

A  change  has  taken  place ; 
Within  the  lute  begins  to  show 

A  rift  of  rude  dimensions ! 
And  feet  of  clay  appear  below 

My  idol's  stern  extensions! 

For,  see !  the  fallen  one  has  bought 

From  Britain,  over  seas, 
A  Jubilee  conveyance,  wrought 

With  regal  blazonries! 
There  flash  the  arms  of  early  Boers 

With  fine  heraldic  feeling, 
And  eagles  swarm  about  the  doors 

And  also  on  the  ceiling. 

Some  enemy  has  worked,  I  wis, 

TTpon  his  guileless  age, 
And  pricked  him  on  to  order  thi* 

Insidious  equipage; 
For  now  that,  where  the  end  is  thin, 

The  wedge  is  once  inserted, 
His  feet  along  the  path  of  sin 

Are  hopelessly  diverted. 

Where  will  he  stop  ?    Far  down  the  years 

I  see  his  tastes  decline 
On  jewels  bartered  from  De  Beers, 

Or  some  adjacent  mine ; 
With  costly  liquors,  long  and  warm, 

I  see  his  bosom  flutter 
Beneath  a  fetching  uniform 

Shaped  by  a  German  cutter! 

How  wanton  pride  may  lead  to  shame 
Was  shown  in  ancient  time, 


A    CUT    BENEATH    HER. 

Lady  of  the  House.  "On,  YES,  JANE,  I  ASKED  MRS.  JOHNSTON  TO  LET  HER  LITTLE  BOY 

AND   HIS   NURRE  CALL  TO  GO  WALKING   WITH   YOU  AND  THE  CHILDREN." 

Nurse.  "WELL,  MA'AM,  I  HOPE  AS  YOU  DON'T  EXPB-/T  HE  TO  oo  WALKING  WITH  THAT 

YOUNG   PERSON  ?      I   DON'T  THINK  YOU   CAN   BK  AWARE  AS  SHE  IS  ONLY  A 


When  HANNIBAL  (who  likewise  came 
From  Afric's  sultry  clime) 

At  Capua,  that  giddy  spot, 
Indulged  in  hibernation, 

Till  all  bis  gallant  army  got 
Quite  ill  with  enervation ! 

O,  Little  England,  dear  to  OOM! 

I  ask  you,  was  it  fair 
To  see  him  sent  to  certain  doom 

Through  such  a  deadly  snare  ? 
And  0,  my  LABBY  !  have  you  then 

Sullied  your  latest  laurels 
By  looking  on  while  wicked  men 

Debauched  a  brother's  morals  ? 


THE  GORDON  HOTELANDEBS. 
(Summary  of  Meeting  at  the  MUropole  ) 

MB.  FREDERICK:  GORDON  said  he  was 
"  gored  on  "  ("  Oh !  Oh !  ")  by  his  partners, 
and  so  he  acted  agordonly.  ("Oh!  Oh! 
Oh!")  Up  to  now  he  had  always  con- 
sidered Sauce  Hollandaite  (cheers)  an  ex- 
cellent thing.  ("  Hear ! ")  But  it  might 
be  made  just  a  little  too  sharp.  He  had 
read  what  had  been  said  about  him  in  the 
Holland  manifesto,  and  he  might,  if  they 
would  allow  him,  sing  from  La  Grande 
Duchesse: — 

"  Voila  ce  que  Ton  dit  de  moi 
Dane  la  Gazette  de  Hollande !    Oui ! " 

(laughter) ,  but  he  hoped,  in  the  interests 


of  everybody,  that  the  friction  would  be 
only  temporary.  ("Hear!  Hear!") 

Sir  Hi.r.MiKi.i.  MAPLB  said  :  I  wish  well  to 
all  these  hotel  schemes,  which,  I  am  maple 
to  say  ("Oh! Oh ! "),  are  doing  uncommonly 
well.  ("Bravo!") 

Mr.  HOLLAND  observed  that  he  and  his 
brother,  though  a  pair,  were  not  to  be 
considered  as  "Double  Dutchmen."  ("No! 
No!")  He  thought  Mr.  GORDON'S  quota- 
tion from  La  (rrande  Dutch-esse  rather 
personal ;  but,  for  his  part,  and  compli- 
menting the  Chairman  of  the  Gordon 
Hotelanders  on  his  vocal  chords  ("  Hear ! 
Hear ! ")  he  hoped  sincerely  that  soon  they 
would  all  be  in  the  same  key,  act  in  unison, 
and  that  their  voices  henceforth  would  be 
in  harmony.  (Enthusiastic  applause.) 

There  was  a  show  of  hands,  when  every- 
body shook  everybody  else's  hand  in  the 
cheeriest  possible  manner. 

[We  have  since  Mcertained,  too  late,  however, 
to  prevent  this  from  going  to  press,  th«t  the  abore 
report  is  an  entire  invention :  hut  a*  it  wa*  evidently 
conceived  in  a  friendly  spirit,  it  ii  to  be  hoped  that 
the  real  result  will  be  as  satisfactory  as  our  False 
Reporter  has  imagined  it. — En.) 

At  the   Colchester  Oyster  Feast. 

Polite  Stranger  (to  Neighbouring  Na- 
tive). May  I  pass  you  the  Chili  vinegar? 

Neighbouring  Native.  No,  thank  you. 
I  always  prefer  my  oysters  neat. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  23,  1897. 


FAMILY    RECORDS. 

Indignant  Parent.    "You   ARE   A   VERY    NAUGHTY    BOY,    TOMMY, 

TELLING    A    FIB   LIKE   THAT  !      /  NEVER    TOLD    FIBS    WHEN     I    WAS     A 
LITTLE   BOY  !  " 

Impenitent  Son.   "WHEN  DID  rou  BEGIN,  THKN,  FATHER?" 


HINTS  TO  HOSTESSES. 

DEAR  MR,  PUNCH, — Now  that  the  country-house  season  is 
commencing,  would  you  grant  me  space  to  suggest  certain  im- 
provement s  on  the  present  system  of  entertainment  ?  I  would 
say  to  the  hostess  :  — 

In  the  first  place,  let  breakfast  be  a  moveable  feast,  varying 
from  9.30  A.M  to,  say  mid-day,  and  let  that  horrible  custom  of 
calling  everybody  beforehand  at  the  same  time  be  abolished  foi 
ever.  Also  let  the  housemaids  be  forbidden  to  clatter  about  the 
passages  with  brooms  and  pails  during  the  earlier  hcurs  of  the 
day.  I  can't  precisely  fix  which  are  the  earlier  hours ;  but  what 
I  mean,  wait  till  I  am  up  and  out.  Order  the  cook  (never  mind 
her  grumbling)  to  have  hot  and  hot  dishes  ready  during  the  entire 
forenoon.  If  a  man  likes  lying  in  bed,  don't  bother  him  to  go  out 
shooting,  or  riding,  or  driving.  Don't  expect,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
to  see  him  at  luncheon,  and  if  he  doesn't  put  in  an  appearance  at 
that  melancholy  meal,  avoid  making  sarcastic  inquiries  as  to  the 
state  of  his  health  when  you  do  see  him.  Give  the  butler  instruc- 
tions to  have  whiskey,  brandy,  bottled  beer,  and  soda-water  per- 
petually laid  out  in  a  convenient  spot,  for  instance,  on  a  table 
in  the  billiard-room  or  smoking-room,  where  a  thirsty  indi- 
vidual can  quietly  slake  his  mouth  without  going  through  the 
absurd  and  semi-public  ceremony  of  ringing  the  dining-room 
bell.  Never  get  up  afternoon  excursions  to  the  celebrated  places 
in  the  neighbourhood,  Castle  Glorious,  the  seat  of  the  Duke  of 
SPLENDOWER,  or  the  ruins  of  Crackmedown  Abbey,  or  the  Weasel- 
gutter  Waterfall.  On  such  occasions,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten, 
the  guests  in  the  conveyances  are  shaken  together  in  as  unsatis- 
factory fashion  as  are  travellers  in  an  American  railway  car.  Let 
the  coachman,  however,  understand  that  he  is  to  be  prepared  to 
send  out  carriages  and  pony-carts  without  any  orders  from  the 
host  or  hostess.  Have  "  five-o'-clock "  by  all  means,  but  don't 
expect  your  male  guests  to  wander  about  with  cups  and  plates  of 
bread  and  butter  and  cake,  like  waiters  out  of  place.  Before 
dinner,  don't  pair  off  the  company,  but  let  each  man  select  his 
own  partner.  Avoid  inviting  any  of  the  neighbouring  big-wigs 
to  a  grand  repast,  and  strictly  abstain  from  giving  a  county  ball. 
Don't  let  the  children  come  down  to  dessert,  and  don't  insist  upon 


everyone  foregathering  later  on  in  the  drawing-room,  to  be  bored 
by  mediocre  music,  wearied  by  the  playing  of  infantine  games, 
or  maddened  by  the  influence  of  atrocious  whist.  Let  everyone 
bave  the  right  of  passing  directly  from  the  dining-room  to  the 
billiard-room.  Notify  that  everyone  may  go  to  bed  when  he 
pleases,  and  can  order  grilled  bones  and  devilled  kidneys  before 
:loing  so.  In  short,  Madam,  turn  your  house  into  a  free-and-easy 
botel.  You  will  become  very  popular,  and  never  lack  for  visitors. 

Such,  Mr.  Punch,  is  the  advice  which  I  would  earnestly  im- 
press upon  the  country-house  hostess.  In  all  humility  as  a 
practical  reformer,  I  am,  Your  obedient  servant, 

Dolce  far  Niente  Club,  W.  JOHN  LAZIBOHN. 

P.S.- — I  could  refer  to  other  phases  of  the  question,  but  all  the 
lauses  of  a  reform  bill  cannot  be  carried  at  the  first  attempt. 
We  must  have  a  beginning. 


VOTES  AND  VOX  POPULI. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — Now  that  the  Municipal  Elections  are  in 
Full  swing,  may  I  venture  to  suggest  certain  Golden  Rules  to 
those  who  intend  to  cast  their  shells  into  the  urn?  They  are 
as  fellows :  — 

1.  Always  vote  for  the  candidate  who  objects  to  lowering  the 
local  rates,  for  as  a  rule  he  is  an  honest  man,  and  has  not  got  a 
brother-in-law  or  cousin  interested  in  the  house-building,  road- 
making,   or  plumbing   business,    which    the    blatant   Economist 
invariably  has. 

2.  Sign  the  nomination  papers  of  as  many  philanthropists  as 
you  are  legally  entitled  to  support.     This  will  gain  you  immense 
respect.     N.B. — You  need  not  poll  in  favour  of  these  gentlemen. 
On  the  contrary,  give  them  the  kick  out  of  the  ballot-box.     They 
will  never  know,  and  be  eternally  grateful. 

3.  Studiously   inquire    whether   the    whole-hearted  individual 
who  solicits  your  vote  has  any  ambition  to  become  Mayor.     If  so, 
discover  whether  it  be  likely  that  a  knighthood  be  lurking  in  the 
immediate  future  in  consequence   of  some  Royal   Visit  to  the 
borough. 

4.  On  the  polling  day  walk  about  with  your  voting-paper  con- 
spicuously exposed  till  a  late  hour  in  the  evening.     If  discreet, 
you  will  have  an  enjoyable  time  at  the  expense  of  other  citizens, 
and  be  able  to  light  your  pipe  with  the  document  when  you  are 
smoking  your  post-prandial  pipe  at  night. 

5.  Cultivate  the  local  wire-pullers,  and  ask  them  to  lend  you 
the  use  of  a  carriage  to  drive  about  the  borough. 

6.  Never  give  yourself  away,  or  your  vote.     Without  bribery 
or  corruption  a  voter  may,  on  such  an  occasion,  revel  in  otium 
cum  dig.  at  Bumbledom.  Your  obedient  servant, 

HERBERT  HIEAWAY. 
13,  Blue  Green  Chai.ibers,  Little  Thisleton. 


A  VOICE  FROM  NELSON'S  COLUMN. 

(Heard  on  the  occasion  of  the  Anniversary.) 

YES  it  is  all  very  well  to  cover  my  column  with  leaves,  but 
could  they  not  do  a  little  more?  Quite  right  to  keep  my 
memory  green,  but  my  fame  ought  to  be  protected  with  equal 
care.  I  suppose  I  ought  not  to  complain.  Nowadays,  everybody 
is  abused.  I  daresay  that  the  good  fellows  I  see  beneath  me  have 
all  been  subjected  to  criticism.  No  doubt  NAPIER  has  been 
called  incompetent,  GORDON  a  bigot,  and  HAVELOCK  a  slow- 
coach. But  some  league  or  other  is  sure  to  look  after  our 
pedestals.  Even  His  Majesty  CHARLES  THE  FIRST  is  afforded  a 
bouquet  or  two.  They  took  years  to  build  my  column ;  more 
years  to  cast  my  lions ;  more  years  yet  to  remember  my  anni- 
versary. Well,  they  have  got  the  date  at  last,  and  my  pillar  is 
in  the  hands  of  blue-jackets  vice  steeple-jack  superseded. 

All  this  is  quite  right  and  proper.     But  what  I  shou  d  like  tc 
know  is,  why  I  am  attacked  about  my  battles  ?     Thanks  to  my 
friend   Admiral   Sir  VESEY  HAMILTON,   my  fame  has  been   pro- 
tected.    All  honour  to  the  Service   Magazine  that   printed  his 
"  vindication."     But  the  leaves  that  called  it  forth  are  not  like 
those  around  my   plinth.     Those  I  see  below   me  are  Nature  s 
handiwork— green  and  pleasant.     After  all,  they  are  more   i 
structive  of  the  appreciation  in  which  I  am  held  by  my  c 
than  those  other  leaves — made  of  paper. 

At  the  Pig  and  Poleaxe. 

Jobbinson.  You  're  down  in  the  mouth !  What  are  you  think- 
ing about,  old  man  ?  Quarter  day  ? 

Dobbinson  {wearily).  No,  my  boy,  no  quarter  day,  when  my 
landlord  puts  in  an  execution.  


OCTOBER  30,  1897.1 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


193 


**;""    •?<  :'*•  •••  ••<  ,      • 


JUVENILE    APPRECIATION. 

Teddy  (come  to  see  pheasants  shot  (but  they  decline  to  rise  to  the  occasion),  to  the  head  keeper). 
"I    SAY,    Mr,.    \VlllTK,    OK   roritsK    YOU    KNOW   THE    NAMES    OF    ALL    YOUK    I'ilKASAMS?     OUB 

HUNTSMAN   KNOWS  THE  NAMES  OF  ALL  HIS  DOGOIES,  AND  /  KNOW  SOME  OF  THEM  !" 


DARBY  JONES  ON  THE  CAMBRIDGESHIRE. 

HONOURED  Sin, —  Having  provided  you 
and  your  friends  with  Winter  Coals.  I  now 
venture  to  essay  to  supply  you  and  yours 
with  sundry  Luxuries  by  naming  the 
\Vinnor  of  the  Cambridgeshire  Stakes,  :i 
race  which  some  of  the  Greenhorns  of 
Turf  Commerce  appear  to  compare  with 
the  Cesarewitch,  quite  forgetting  the  differ- 
ence in  distance  and  weight.  It  is  indeed 
astonishing  how  these  Neophytes  (an  ex- 
pression freshly  culled  from  the  excellent 
Webster's  Dictionary)  imagine  that  an 
animal  that  can  do  over  two  miles  in  proud 


style,  is  equally  useful  at  about  half  thf 
distance.  You  might  just  as  well  ask  a 
long-distance  Human  Plodder  to  win  a 
hundred  yards  competition.  True  it  i> 
that  more  than  once,  as  in  the  case  of 
riaisanterie,  the  same  quadruped  ha> 
caught  the  Judge's  Eye  on  both  occasions, 
but  bow  rare  have  been  these  Freaks  oi 
Fortune,  and  how  carefully  planned  has 
been  the  cou.p  de  grace!  (Tarver't  Anglo- 
French  Dictionary). 

Believe  me,  honoured  Sir,  and  I  speak 
with  the  authority  of  that  fine  sportsman. 
Sir  JOHN  ABTLEY,  better  known  as  "  The 
Mate,"  that,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  » 


Cesarewitch  nag  is  not  a  Cambridgeshire 
crock.  And  this  should  be  remembered 
when  the  lowlier  sort  of  punters  are  send- 
ing their  Post-Office  Orders  to  the  Kxiled 
Bookmaker!  nf  Holland,  with  tl-e  expecta- 
tion of  a.  Double  Event.  Tliis,  by  the 
way,  is  an  exceedingly  difficult  mantBUvre 

to  accomplish,  and  yet  I  have  sun d<-d  in 

bringing  it  off  quite  recently  with 
in  the  l)iik<>  of  York  Shiki-,  and 
in  tin-  Cesarewitch. 

A  Noble  Karl  (I  need  not  say  whether  of 
British  birth)  who  is  beholden  to  me  for 
satisfactory  advice  on  the  subject,  has,  in 
addition  to  forwarding  me  a  snbj.taiiii.ii 
cheque,  sent  me  a  basket  of  Norwegian 
Ptarmigan.  Inasmuch  as  I  am  strictly 
forbidden  by  my  Medical  Man  to  touch 
this  Scandinavian  Fowl,  I  have  directed 
the  L.  P.  D.  C.  to  convey  the  hamper  to 
your  palatial  residence,*  with  a  request 
that  you  would  pay  the  carriage.  Your 
thanks  I  accept  beforehand,  and  now  pro- 
ceed to  celebrate  in  metrical  lines  the 
present  great  Equine  Handicap  of  New- 
market :  — 

The  Baham  rent  I  don't  admire, 
To  Torkitt  claim*  do  not  annre, 
No  Burning  Arh  mv  pen  will  fire, 

But  an  Kaxlrrn  Dami  re»pect,  Hir. 
But  iBurelvin  the  1,  2,  3, 
A  Yatikrr  Saint  expect  to  ire, 
And  (with  a  run)  ihe  Jemey  f.ilif, 

Her  one  of  the  two  don't  neglect,  Sir. 

Well  aware  that  I  have  thrown  priceless 
chances  to  those  Winds  which  blow  about 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  I  write  myself 
down  as  usual,  honoured  Sir, 

Your  devoted  minion, 

DABBY  JONES. 

P.S. — At  the  same  time  remember  that 
:i  millionaire  is  not  above  picking  up  a  pin. 
*  We  were  not  taking  any  in.—  En. 


TO  SIB  F.-P.,  BART. 

[Sir  FAUDFL  FAFDBL-PHILLIPS,  Bart.,  Lord 
Mayor,  has  been  made  a  Knieht  Grand  Commander 
of  the  moit  Eminent  Order  of  the  Indian  Empire.] 

HAIL!  Sir  FAOT>«L| 

Gaily  chordle !  * 
FAtrnitL-PiiiLLiPS,  Bart.  1 

"K.  G.  C. 

E.  O.  I.  E.," 
Lord  Mayor  still  thou  art  I 

•  Old  form  of  "chortle." 


"SERMONS  IN  STONES."— " Sir  EDWARD 
SASSOON,"  according  to  the  Daily  Tilr- 
qraph,  "  has  offered  to  the  Corporation  of 
Brighton,  five  statues,  representing 
'Night,'  'Morning,'  'Truth,'  'Welcome,5 
and  'Fidelity,'  for  the  decoration  of  one  of 
the  public  parks."  What  a  fine  moral 
lesson  to  husbands,  and  a  moral  for  those 
inclined  to  dine  not  wisely  but  too  well. 
"  Night "  would  represent  the  husband 
going  put  to  a  bachelor  dinner  ;  "  Morn- 
ing "  his  return  therefrom  ; "  Truth,"  which 
he  murmured  indistinctly  to  himself ; "  Wel- 
come," what  he  received  from  his  wife  ; 
•'Fidelity,"  the  way  in  which  he  kept  hi* 
promise  not  to  do  it  again.  The  SASSOON 
statues  will  give  a  fine  moral  lesson  to 
Brightonian  husbands.  May  they  profit 
by  ft  I  

A  CREATURE  WHO  LEFT  THE  OASIS  or 
PLENTY  FOR  THE  DESF.RT  OF  DISTRESS. — 
The  Kew  Gardens  Pelican — killed  by  some 
one  who  ought  never  to  have  been  trusted 
witk  a  gun— October  19, 1897— far,  far  from 
home. 


194 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  30,  1897. 


"LET   WELL    ALONE." 

John  Bull.  "  No,  THANK  YE,  JONATHAN.     I  'va  DONE  VERY  WELL  WITH  MY  GOLD,  AND  I  DON'T  WANT  ANY  CHANGE  1 " 


OCTOBER  30,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


195 


BOTANICAL  BOOTS. 

[According  to  an  interview  in  the  Daily  Mail, 
he  ultra-vegetarians  consider  it  against  their  prin- 
•iplt'8  to  wear  foot-gi-ar  made  of  leather,  and  sub- 
titutf  thm-for  ma'crmU  of  non-aoimul  origin, 

nurh  as  ilux,  u-jjtT,  cotton,  or  aome  uther  product 

of  the  vegetable  kingdom.] 

To  make  vegetable  boots, 
You  must  go  and  grub  up  roots 
[n  your  private  kitchen-garden,  if  you  own 

a  cabbage-patch ; 

Else  at  your  next-door  neighbour's 
You  should  prosecute  your  labours, 
Or  at  Kew,  perhaps,  when  no  one 's  by, 
some  odds  and  ends  you  '11  snatch  ! 

For  no  longer  must  you  wear 
The  ordinary  pair 
That  are  made  of  cow-hide,  porpoise-skin, 

or  cuticle  of  pig  ; 
You  must  shun  them  altogether 
With  ev'ry  sort  of  leather, 
And   endeavour  to  encase    your    feet    in 
vegetarian  rig. 

Then  very  soon  you  '11  feel 
That,  if  you  need  a  meal, 
You  can  boil  your  beetle-crushers,  or  con- 
vert them  into  stew ; 
And,  when  you  're  in  a  hurry, 
You  can  dine  on  slipper-curry, 
And  say  with  truth,  "ill  eat  my  hat  if  I 
don't  eat  my  shoe ! " 


The  Early  Bird. 

IT  seems  that  a  curious  zoologist  has  been 
sitting  out  at  night  to  check  the  times  at 
which  birds  begin  to  sing.  The  April  dawn 
commenced  to  break  at  2.30  A.M.,  though  a 
sparrow  had  already  anticipated  matters 
by  chirping  at  2  A.M.  The  following,  how- 
ever, is  a  still  more  important  observation, 
and  one  may  perhaps  be  pardoned  for  add- 
ing the  italics  of  admiration  :  — 

At    twenty-seven    minutes   past   three 
o'clock" — to  quote  the  Westminster  Oazettt 

-"  larks  began  to  soar  and  sing  all  round, 
although  there  was  scarcely  light  enough  to 
read  by."  Came  without  their  not«s,  we 
suppose. 

FUR-CONK.— A  daily   paper  states  that, 
wing    to    the    mild    weather,    furs    are 
"dropping  rapidly."     Evidently  a  change 
of  hair  is  required. 


ARGUMENT. 


"GIVE   MB   A   RlDE   ON    YOUR   BACK,    DADDY."  "  No,    DEAR  ;   NOT   HEKE." 

"WHY  NOT.  DADDY!"  "On,  TIIF.RK  ARE  TOO  JIANY  PEOPLE  ABOUT." 

"  BUT  IF  YOU   TOOK   ME  ON   YOUR   BACK  THERE   WOULD  UK   ALL  THE  MORE   ROOM   FoR_IHK 

PEOPLE  I " 


"A  WEIGH  THEY  HAVE  IN  THE  ARMY." 

["By  the  new  regulations,  it  is  now  necessary  that  Army  candidate*  for 
commissions  should  not  only  possess  the  chest  measurement  and  height 
prescribed,  but  that  they  should  also  be  of  a  certain  minimum  weight." — 
Daily  Preu.} 

"  I  CAN  assure  you.  Sir,"  said  the  lad,  "  that  I  have  studied  hard 
tojnake  myself  proficient." 

"That  may  be,"  replied  the  examiner,  "but  I  fear,  from  your 
appearance,  that  one  necessary  acquirement  has  been  sadly 
neglected." 

"  Pray  do  not  say  so,"  cried  the  youth  in  a  piteous  tone.  "  I 
am  so  anxious  to  become  a  soldier.  I  come  of  a  race  of  warriors. 
My  father  was  at  Inkermann,  my  graudsire  took  an  eagle  at 
Waterloo,  and  the  founder  of  our  race  (we  are  of  Saxon  origin) 
was  the  only  general  who  made  any  serious  stand  at  Hastings." 

"  With  such  a  pedigree,"  observed  the  examiner,  "  it  is  strange 
that  your  physique  should  not  be  stronger." 

"Possibly  it  comes  of  over-study,"  continued  the  youngster. 
"  I  have  worked  day  and  night  for  years.  I  know  all  that  can  be 
known  in  military  history,  and  am  up  to  my  eyes  in  the  minutirr 
of  the  profession.  As  for  drill— in  all  its  branches — I  hare 
learned  it  backwards,  forwards,  and  side-ways.  Test  me,  Sir, 
and  you  will  find  I  am  up  in  everything." 

The  examiner  good-naturedly  put  a  few  questions,  which  the 
candidate  answered  with  the  greatest  ease  and  precision. 

"  Yes,  you  appear  to  know  the  technical  part  of  the  necessary 


education,  and  the  Civil  Service  Commissioners  have  seen  that 
you  have  had  the  ordinary  training  of  an  English  gentleman." 

"  Yea,  I  was  at  Eton  and  Christ  Church." 

"  But  you  apparently  neglected  athletics." 

"  Neglected  athletics  1 "  exclaimed  the  excited  youth.  "  My 
dear  Sir,  you  cannot  hare  read  the  papers.  Did  you  not  see 
how  I  broke  the  record  of  the  five  mile  race,  equalled  the  long- 
jump,  and  carried  all  before  me  in  a  novel  competition  known — 
I  presume  tentatively — as  hurling  horses  P  " 

"  Yes,  I  have  heard  something  of  this." 

"  And  it  is  not  for  me  to  speak  of  it,  but  I  wear,  concealed 
under  my  waistcoat,  this  medal,  which  was  presented  to  me  for 
saving  lives  from  drowning.  And  if  I  may  say  so  without  laying 
myself  open  to  the  charge  of  self-laudation,  I  might  suggest  that 
I  was  not  called  at  school  'Courageous  CHARLIE'  for  nothing." 

"Still,  you  know  the  new  regulation.     It  must  be  enforced." 

"I  have  done  my  best.  I  have  eaten  porridge,  a  popular  food 
for  cattle,  oil-cake,  everything.  And  yet  I  dread  the  test."_ 

"  Be  brave,"  replied  the  examiner.  "  Take  a  seat.  It  will  be 
over  in  a  moment." 

The  lad  obeyed  the  instruction,  and  eagerly  waited  for  the 
verdict. 

"Nine  stone  exactly!"  said  the  examiner,  '^ou  are  not 
fat  enough  for  the  army." 

"This  is  thin,  indeed!"  cried  the  youth.  And  although  there 
was  a  certain  play  upon  words  in  the  remark,  the  unsuccessful 
candidate  was  too  and  to  smile  at  the  witticism. 


196 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  30,  1897 


Tht  Chinoe  Navy,  according  to  th,  ' '  Daily  MM  "  .•  -"  A  Board  of  Admiralty  U  to  be  established  to  legislate  under  the  advice  of  a  European  organiser.'' 

THE  FIEST  BOARD  MEETING,  BY  CUE  PROPHETIC  CHINESE  AETI8T. 


LETTERS  TO  THE  CELEBRATED. 

No.  I. — To  VISCOUNT  ESHER,  LATE  MASTER  OF  THE  BOLLS. 

MY  LORD, — It  would  not  be  right  that  an  event  so  momentous 
as  your  retirement  from  the  Bench,  that  for  so  many  years  you 
have  adorned,  should  pass  unnoticed  by  Mr.  Punch,  your  friend 
and  admirer. 

Our  judicial  system  is  to-day  poorer  by  the  loss  of  a  real  man. 
Time  and  again  has  he  who  pens  these  lines  watched  you  as  you 
burst  your  way  with  masculine  force  through  the  tangled 
web  of  sophistries  that  too  often  passes  for  legal  acumen. 
What  were  precedents  to  you  if  precedents  told  against  your 
view  of  what  was  right  ?  You  could  always  distinguish,  as  the 
lawyers  say,  and  if  your  distinctions  toppled  over  for  ever  the 
decided  cases  in  which  the  unwisdom  of  your  musty  predecessors 
had  had  full  scope,  so  much  the  worse  for  the  decided  cases  and 
so  much  the  better,  it  may  be  added,  for  good  sense  and 
sound  law. 

They  said  you  were  rough  in  your  speech,  that  you  did  not 
check  in  time  the  crushing  remark  provoked  by  boredom,  stu- 
pidity or  perversity.  It  may  be  so.  Osrie  was  never  your  model 
of  manners,  and,  in  truth,  an  Osric  on  the  Bench  would  be  a 
melancholy  sight.  And  sometimes  the  animal  spirits  that  have 
canned  you  vigorously  from  your  stalwart  undergraduate  days, 
through  the  rough  and  tumble  of  a  barrister's  and  a  Judge's  life, 
up  to  the  moment  of  your  retirement,  would  break  out  irre- 
pressibly  amid  the  pompous  gloom  of  your  Appeal  Court,  and 
you  would  revel  in  a  wordy  contest  with  all  the  zest  of  a  Caius 
man  belabouring  a  Barnwell  bargee.  They  still  do  these  thimgs 
at  Caius,  1  am  told,  when  the  occasion  requires,  and  I  warrant 
that  you,  the  noblest  Caian  of  them  all,  would  be  the  last  to 
blame  the  happy  diversions  of  youth. 

But,  rough  or  otherwise,  you  were  sterling  to  the  core,  and  as 
kindly  as  you  were  sterling.  Others  might  be  cajoled  or 


wheedled  :  no  man  can  say  that  he  ever  succeeded  in  humbugging 
you,  or  that,  if  he  tried  to,  he  brought  anything  but  sorrow  and 
bruised  bones  out  of  the  conflict.  But  being  a  man  you  liked  a 
man,  though  he  might  be  your  temporary  opponent,  and  the 
robust  energy  that  urged  you  to  a  bout  of  mental  fisticuffs  caused 
you  to  treat  as  a  mere  nothing  any  blow  that  might  descend  on 
your  own  skull  during  the  encounter.  You  forgave  and  were 
forgiven  ;  you  respected  and  were  respected. 

And  through  all  the  turmoil  and  the  conflict,  highly  placed  and 
honoured  as  you  were,  you  preserved  ever  a  happy  memory  of 
the  days  of  your  youth  when  BRETT  of  Caius  was  a  name  to  con- 
jure with  in  the  world  of  oarsmen.  BRETT  of  Caius,  who,  as  a 
brother  Judge  sang  of  him  :  — 

rowed  seven  to  STANLEY, 

Every  inch  the  Judge — the  man  ; 
Upright,  downright,  comely,  manly, 
Beat  him,  Oxford,  if  you  can ! 

And  I  cannot  doubt  that  the  ancient  medals  that  bore  testimony 
to  your  aquatic  prowess  on  the  tideway,  and  at  Henley,  are  still 
amongst  your  most  cherished  and  delightful  possessions.  Others 
might  stiffen  and  totter  and  forget,  but  with  you  the  athlete's 
delight  in  conflict,  the  joyous  spirit  of  abounding  vitality  that 
bore  you  on  when  your  sinews  were  cracking  and  your  breast  was 
heaving  in  the  fierce  stress  of  a  boat-race,  the  fighter's  deter- 
mination to  win  or  to  die — these  were  and  are  yours  still  as  when 
you  sat  behind  STANLEY  and  helped  to  snatch  victory  from  the 
men  in  dark  blue. 

How  genially,  too,  and  with  what  tact  and  humour  have  you 
presided  over  the  Boat-race  dinners.  The  youngsters  who  had 
rowed  rejoiced  in  your  speeches,  and  always  cheered  you  to  the 
echo.  Once,  as  I  have  heard,  when  having  temporarily  vacated 
the  chairman's  seat  you  were  strolling  round  the  tables,  you 
paused  behind  a  lad, who.  somewhat  inspired  by  Bacchus,was  lustily 
shouting,  "Good  old  ESHBR,"  a  call  which,  though  it  showed 


OCTOBER  30,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


197 


enthusiasm,  was  not  altogether  so  n-.per-tlul  as  the  dignity  of  a 
Lrn-d  .lustiee  might  seem  to  require.  On  him  .still  shouting,  and 
unaware  of  your  presence  at  his  back,  you  laid  a  paternal  hand: 
"  My  dear  boy,"  you  said,  "I'm  afraid  your  head  will  ache  to- 
morrow. I  onoe  shouted  like  that  myself,  and  well,  my  head 
ached  the  next,  morning,"  and  with  that  you  passed  on,  ieavinj 
the  boy  reduced  to  a  surprised  and  unwonU-u  silence.  It  ma; 
interest  you  to  know  that  he  subsequently  declared  you  weri 
"a  ripper." 

And  now  you  are  gone  into  a  retirement  which  we  all  wish  maj 
be  as  peaceful  and  pleasant  as  it  is  honourable.  We  shall  miss 
you.  Often,  when  some  prosy  dryasdust  is  laying  down  the  law 
we  shall  long  for  those  refreshing  gusts  of  vigorous  common  seust 
that  swept  through  your  Court  when  you  presided  over  it.  The* 
we  shall  not  fee  I  again,  but  your  example  of  manly  strength  am 
robust  insight  and  unswerving  rectitude  in  word  and  deed  will  re 
main  with  us  unforgotten  and  undiimned  through  the  yea  is  th.r' 
are  to  come.  I  am,  my  Lord,  with  deep  respect, 

Your  faithful  servant,  THE  VAOBANT. 

HAND  AND  GLOVE  AT  THE  AQUARIUM. 

IT'S  wonderful!  Marvellous!  the  reproduction  of  the  great 
fight  between  FITZSIMMONS  and  CORBETT  by  Fisticuffographi< 
Process  at  the  Aquarium  I  They  "  come  like  shadows,  so  de- 
part," and  I  fancy  the  Witches  in  their  cave  knew  this  trick  ano 
presented  a  series  of  "  living  pictures "  for  the  instruction  ant 
amusement  of  Macbeth.  By  the  way,  herein  is  a  hint  for  Mr 
FORBES  ROBERTSON  should  he  wish  to  give  this  Shakspeariuii 
drama  with  genuine  novel  effects.  Or,  why  should  not  the 
"  living  pictures  "  be  given  in  the  Play  Scene  in  Hamlet  f  But 
this,  by  the  way.  A  nos  mute-'uns!  For  they  don't  speak  a 
word!  Not  a  sound  to  be  beard  I  Except  the  whirring  of  the 
machinery.  O  my  head  I  Never  was  there  so  dense  aud  so 
silent  a  crowd  living,  moving,  waving  hands,  and  doing  all  that 
mortal  men  can  do  except  speak. 

Never  having  seen  a  prize-fight,  I  had  imagined  that  two 
athletes  stripped  to  the  waist,  as  they  appear  in  prints  of  cham- 
pion pugilists,  would  gracefully  stand  up  to  each  other  until  one 
of  them  could  stand  up  no  longer,  the  interval  being  occupied  in 
"  squaring  up,"  "  hitting  out,"  "  slogging  "  "  landing  "  each  othet 
"one  on  the  nut,"  and,  in  a  general  way,  exhibiting  what 
muscle,  training,  and  science  can  effect.  Consequently  I  was 
considerably  astonished  at  finding  these  two  champions,  who  seem 
to  hate  one  another  like  poison,  that  is,  if  the  refusal  of  FITZ- 
SIMMONB  to  shake  hands  with  CORBETT  is  to  be  taken  as  an  indica- 
tion of  this  deadly  inimical  sentiment,  occupying  the  greater  part 
of  the  time  taken  up  by  the  encounter  in  getting  quite  close 
together,  and  apparently  hugging  each  other  in  so  loving  an 
embrace  that  they  find  the  greatest  difficulty  in  parting ;  in  fact 
Fn /.SIMMONS  seemed  quite  sorry  to  let  CORBETT  go,  and  vice  versd. 
Sometimes  they  dance,  and  hop,  and  hurry,  and  scurry  round 
the  ring,  but,  as  it  always  seems,  with  only  one  aim  and  end, 
namely,  that  FITZSIMMONB  is  so  deeply  attached  to  Column 
(or  CORBETT  to  FITZSIMMONS,  it  does  not  matter  which)  as  to  be 
perpetually  making  for  him,  with  a  view  to  taking  him  to  his 
arms,  and  giving  him  just  another  hug  for  old  acquaintance  sake, 
and  to  show  that,  though  at  the  commencement  he  had  refused 
to  go  through  the  formality  of  shaking  hands,  yet  he  was 
desperately  attached  to  him,  and  only  wanted  to  take  him  to  lii.- 
heart  and  whisper  the  touching  truth  in  his  ear.  All  this  time 
the  two  champions  are  being  followed  about  all  over  the  place 
by  a  stout  man  in  shirt-sleeves,  light  tie,  and  high  collar,  whom 
at  first  I  took  to  be  a  kind  of  clergyman  of  some  persuasion, 
skipping  about  to  avoid  their  both  hitting  him  or  treading  on 
his  toes,  and,  probably,  perpetually  reminding  them  of  Dr. 
WATTS'  hymn,  how,  "  Dogs  might  delight  to  bark  and  bite,"  ansl 
"Lions  to  growl  and  fight,"  but  that  for  a  couple  of  Christians 
to  be  engaged  in  a  deadly  pummeling  encounter  was  not  a  seemly 
spectacle,  nor  a  good  example  to  set  to  the  thousands  of  specta- 
tors there  gathered  together.  However,  it  was  soon  explained 
to  me  that  this  stout  personage,  something  between  a  genial 
elderly  parson  and  a  robust  landlord  of  a  public  house,  was 
GEORGE  SII.ER,  of  Chicago,  the  referee.  A  nice  time  he  must 
have  had  of  it !  Once  he  was  nearly  sent  over  the  ropes  with 
both  champions  on  the  top  of  him  I 

The  fight  continues.  Sometimes  they  are  in  the  full  clear 
light  of  day,  but  in  a  steady  pelt  of  rain  or  snow,  at  other 
times  they  are  nil  in  shadow  and  a  heavy  storm  is  pouring  down  : 
jut  whether  in  light  or  shade,  all  the  figures,  principals  and  crowd, 
are  moving  about  under  a  kind  of  continuous  Niagara  waterfall,  of 
which  everyone  seems  utterly  unconscious.  It  is  this  that  makes 
it  so  weird.  At  last ,  however,  FITZSIMMONS  becoming  annoyed 
at  all  his  overtures  for  his  amiably-intentioued  hugging  aud  em- 


> 


Kitty  (whoK  ftya  Hat  got  a  telephone),  "  GKAN'MA,  AKK  YOU  ffliMU  /  ' 


bracing  being  rejected,  hits  CORBETT  a  nasty  one,  when  down 
goes  the  latter  on  his  knee,  and  what  is  more,  he  can't  get  on 
his  legs  again  when  "time"  is  called;  whereupon  r'  FITS- 
SIMMONS  is,  says  the  voice  of  a  mysterious  showman  coming 
to  us  through  the  gloom,  for  the  spectators  are  almost  in  dark- 
ness, "  proclaimed  the  winner." 

This  verdict  evidently  so  annoys  CORBETT,  that,  recovering  his 
legs  just  a  few  seconds  too  late,  he  rushes  at  Kn /..si SIMONS,  who 
might  have  been  taken  unawares  but  for  the  rapid  intervention  of 
seconds,  backers,  umpire,  men  with  fans,  men  with  towels,  men 
with  sponges,  all  throwing  themselves  on  the  dangerous  defeated 
one,  and  hustling  him  out  of  the  ring.  Then  in  surges  the  crowd, 
and  all  is  muddle  and  jumble  and  jostling, when  suddenly  everything 
and  everybody  vanishes,  the  nightmare  is  over,  the  hall  is  onoe 
more  in  full  light,  and  we,  with  FITZSIMMONS  in  one  eye,  CORBETT 
in  the  other,  and  our  head  aching  from  the  silent  fists  of  both, 
are  staring  about,  dazed,  wondering  if  "  there  are  wisions  about, 
whether  everybody  is  real,  whether —  "  Ah  I  I  Ve  been 
a-lookin'  for  you,  Sir  I "  "I'is  the  voice  of  the  cabman,  I  hear  him 
?omplain.  I  had  forgotten  to  pay  him  I  He  has  been  waiting 
for  me  just  one  hour  and  a  half.  Yes ;  I  am  alive ;  so  is  the 
cabman.  It  is  real. 


Siamese  Susceptibilities. 

["  King  CHI-LALONOKOHN  ii  in  Spain he  wtu  much  surprised  to 

find  that  so  characteristic  an  amusement  a*  a  bull-fight  had  been  left  out  from 
-he  authorised  programme  of  entertainment*.  It  Wat  explained  to  him  that  it 
lad  been  omitted  solely  out  of  consideration  to  what  the  Spaniard!  conceived 

to  be  Siamese  susceptibilities So  a  bull- fight  is  being  arranged." — 

Watmiruter  Gazette.} 

Is  the  King  of  Si  AM  turned  an  infidel  now. 
That  his  programme  of  bull-fights  is  full  ? 

It  certainly  seems  that  his  love  Tor  the  cow 
Is  at  best  but  a  bit  of  a  bull. 


Note   on  Nelson. 

SIR, — There  is  a  house  of  call  near  here  bearing  the  style  and 
itle   of  "The   Nelson  Arms."     This  must  have    been  the   very 
louse  where  the  young  HORATIO  in  early  days  took  hit  morning 
drink.     His  beverage  was   good  English  home-brewed   (you   re- 
member "England,  Home-brewed,  and  Beauty"?),  as  he   was 
talwart,  thorough,  and  not  a  man  for  half-and-half  measures. 
Jut  to  come  to  my  pint,  I  draw  your  attention  to  the  fact  that 
he  sign  is  "The  Nelson  Arms."     Now  he  could  not  have  fre- 
quented   this   place   later   in    life,   as   then  the    landlord   would 
certainly  have  re-named  it    "The   Nelson   Arm."     Perhaps  this 
will  interest  Sir  WILLIAM  FRASKR,  who  seems  to  know  all  about 
verything  connected  with  our  naval  hero.     Faithfully  your~. 


198 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  30,  1897. 


The  Coknel.  "MR.  MOEIAETY,  I  RECEIVED  THIS  MORNING  A  MOST  OFFENSIVE  ANONYMOU:- 
LETTER,  AND,  FKOM  CERTAIN   INDICATIONS,  I   AM  COMPELLED  RELUCTANTLY  TO  ASK  YOU  it 

YOU  KNOW  ANYTHING  ABOUT  IT." 

Aforiarty,  "AN  ANONYMOUS   LKTTIR?    WHOY,  OI'D  SCORN  TO  PUT  MY  NAME  TO  SUCH 

A    THISO!" 


TO  PHEME ; 

or,  La  Belle  Rumeur  sans  Veritt. 

(By  TH-M-S  B-WL-S.) 

Am — "  The  Cane-bottomed  Chair." 

I  WAS  sounding  my  way  on  the  Ocean  of 

Life 
Where    the    currents    are    captious    and 

wreckage  is  rife  ; 
When  a  fairy-like  figure  emerged  fiom  the 

fog, 
And  I  noted  the  same  in  my  nautical  log. 

Like  the  Spirit  of  Dawn  she  divided  the 
foam 

With  the  easy  aplomb  of  a  porpoise  at 
home 

And  on  deck  up  a  hawser  she  gracefully 
slid 

And  reclined  in  her  bloom  on  my  binnacle- 
lid. 


"  Petty  Officer  THOMAS,"  the  lady  began, 
"  For  I  think  I  address   that  remarkable 

man, 
I  am  PHEME,  who  hails  from  the  vacuous 

blue, 
Petty  pfficer  BOWLES,  I've  a  message  for 

youl 

"  One  word  will  suffice  for  a  sapient  tar 
Which  is  just  the  identical  sort  that  you 

are — 
Take  it,  then,  on  the  faith  of  the  feminine 

sex, 
That  your  Commodore 's  going  to  send  in 

his  checks ! " 
"  Say  no  more  I  "  I  replied,  for  my  temples 

were  red 
Where  the  blood  from  my  heart  had  got 

into  my  head, 
And  my  hair  was  erect  from  its  ultimate 

roots, 
As  already  I  trod  in  the  Commodore's  boots ! 


I  was  visibly  swelling  in  stature  and  weight 
While  I  pictured  iny  hand  at  the  helm  of 

the  State, 
And  I  looked  at  my  PHEME  and  longed  to 

encase 
Her  delectable  form  in  my  folding  embrace. 

I  advanced  with  the  purpose  of  stroking, 

her  wings 
(Have  I  mentioned  she  wore  these  adorable 

things  ?) 
When  she  checked  me  in  virginal  tones  of 

revolt— 
"  Do  not    touch   me,    my   THOMAS  !    I  'm 

going  to  moult !  " 
It  was  true.    She  attempted  to  soar  from 

my  clasp, 
But  her  feathers  came  off  in  my  amorous 

grasp, 

And  she  fell  with  a  thud  in  the  neighbour- 
ing main, 

And  I  never  set  eyes  on  the  creature  again. 
False,  fleeting  and  perjured,   my   PHBMR 

had  passed 
To   the   limbo   of  rumours  too  rotten   to 

last, 
And  the  total  remains  for  her  THOMAS  to 

weep 
Was  the  fluff   of   her  wings  in  a  fatuous 

heap. 

So  I  turn  to  my  study  of  nautical  lore 
In  a  solitude  darker  than  ever  before, 
For  the  vision  of  splendour  is  hopelessly 

hid 
That  she  drew    (in    the    rough)     on    my 

binnacle-lid. 

Yet  a  relic  I  cherish,  a  feather  to  wear, 
For  the  sake  of  a  party  so  fickle  and  fair, 
And  at  times  I  shall  chew  me  a  querulous 

quid 

Where  she   sat  in  her  bloom  on  my  bin- 
nacle-lid. 


Shakspeare  and  Sport. 
THEATRES,  theatres,  everywhere  I  Among 
the  latest,  and  doing  uncommonly  well  as 
it  appears,  with  LEONARD  BOYNB  in  a 
horseyfied  drama  by  Messrs.  RALEIOH  and 
HICKS,  entitled  Sporting  Life,  is  the  Shak- 
speare Theatre,  Clapham.  Good  gracious! 
Clapham  that  was  once  so  "  serious "  and 
anti-theatrical  I  Yet,  when  you  come  to 
think  of  it,  or  go  there  to  see  it,  oughtn't 
Clapham  to  be  the  very  place  where  an 
actor  would  be  most  welcome !  Doesn't 
the  very  name  express  the  sound  of  ap- 
plause so  dear  to  an  actor's  ear  and  heart  ? 
And,  as  a  suburb,  isn't  Clapham  quite 
handy  to  London?  It  would  be  a  bad 
omen  if,  instead  of  Clapham,  it  was  called 
Hissharn,  Peltum,  or  Guyem.  A  sporting 
piece,  too  I  Just  the  place !  for  isn't  Clap- 
ham  on  the  road  to  Epsom  ?  and  do  not 
Clapham  Schools  rejoice  on  Derby  Day  ? 
Produced  at  the  Shakspeare  Theatre  1 
Why,  certainly.  Just  exactly  what 
WILLIAM,  wiho,  as  is  shown  in  his  works, 
was  a  real  good  sportsman,  would  have 
revelled  in  I  Brayvo  1  Clapham  I 

At  the   Quickshot  Club. 
First    Sportsman.  Well,    I    killed    four 
rabbits  with  two  barrels  last  September. 

Second  Sportsman.  And  I  had  five  par- 
tridges on  one  drive,  three  coming  towards 
me,  and  two  with  fresh  cartridges  over  the 
hill. 

Third  Sportsman  (wearily).  But  nobody 
comes  up  to  my  slaying  of  an  elephant  in 
Assam  with  a  pea  rifle.  Would  you  like 
to  hear  the  yarn  ? 

[The  Third  Sportsman  is  immediately 
left  alone. 


PUNCH,   OR   THK   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— On., I:KK  30,  1897. 


"ENGLAND  EXPECTS- 


SHADE  or  F.-M.  TUB  DUKB  OF  WELLINGTON.  "ALL  EIGHT  FOB    Y»CK  SKRYK'K,  NELSON;  BUT,  13EOAD, 

SIR,  THEY'LL  HAVE  TO  STRENGTHEN  MINE!" 


OOTOBKR  .'50,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


201 


THE    PLEASURES    OF    HUNTING. 

To   BE   BOLTED   WITH   DOWN-HILL,    A   BIT  OF   MUD   IN  YOUR   EYE,    AND  WITH   IVXB.YONB   IN  TH»  FlELD   YKLLINU,    "  'WAR*    WlKE  !  ' 


"  SCOTS  WHA  HAE.' 

To  COLONEL  MATHIAS  ANIJ  HIS  UOIUJON  HIUH 
UHAUKU  K.OTAL-  IKTOHKK  -u. 


BRAVO,  the  Gordons!    Proved  again 

I'ue  iin-ii  t  h.Li  never  tail  I 
Though  gallant  comrades,  true  and  tried, 
India  s  nower  and  Kuglaud's  pride, 
Kiuhing  to  storm  tliai  bare  nul-side, 

Keeled  111  the  raking  bail. 

Then  skirled  the  pipes,  and  up  you  leapt  ; 

out  rang  your  Highland  yell  , 
And  there  wun  boyisli  step  and  light, 
Running  the  gauntlet  up  tliv  lieigiit, 
Shouting  for  battle's  sheer  deligiit, 

loUllg  A  LEi:  LAMONT  tell  1 

Fell  as  the  Gordons  choose  to  fall 

On  a  well-won  held  alar  ; 
Fell  tor  the  nag  whose  battle-stains 
Speak  of  the  tight  by  Delhi's  Iain-, 
Leaguer  of  Lucknow,  Egypt's  plain*, 

Kabul  and  Kandahar  1 


FROM  TUB  PEGASUS  STABLES. — "  Wild 
white  horses  sha'u't  drag  it  out  of  me  1 " 
as  Mr.  KUDYAHD  KIPLINU  said  when  asked 
to  write  a  ponie  for  the  first  number  of  the 
"  Literature  "  of  the  Times.  Wild  white 
horses  I  Ah  I  Happy  thought  1  So  he  gave 
in,  and  gave  out  the  pome ;  and  in  true 
British  pugilistic  mood  he  exhorts  his 
countrymen 

"  To  mill  jour  fuemnn'i  armies ;  " 

but  of  course  this  implies  that  the  "  wild 
white  horses"  who  are  to  go  in  for  this 
knock-a-bout  encounter  require,  first  of  all, 
a  considerable  amount  of  training. 


.'A  TAIL   PIECE." 

It  wu  the  long-tailed  Drew  Suit*  last  Seuon. 
Will  it  be  the  inert-tailed  ditto  thii  SeMon  t 


"  PLEASE  TO  REMEMBER  THE  GUY." 

DXAR    MB.    PUNCH, —  At    a   time   when 

I  everybody  of  note  has  an  anniversary,  it 

seems    rather  hard    that   my   memory   u 

becoming   dimmer  and    dimmer,    until   it 

I  now  itands  a  fair  chance  of  being  entirely 

forgotten.     Of   course,    the   cause  of  my 

popular  unpopularity  has  become  out  of 

date.     No  one  in  this  nineteenth  century 

cares  whether  I  blew  up  JAMES  THE  Fun 

or  not.     The  enthusiasm  for  that  monarch 

hag  long  since  evaporated.    Of  late  yean  it 

has  been  the  custom  to  represent  me  as  all 

sorts  and  conditions  of  men.    Now  I  have 

appeared   as   a    silly    minister,    a   foolish 

general,    a    self-laudatory    literary    man. 

Hut  now,  even  that  kind  of  representative 

seems  to  be  dying  out.    Unless  this  protect 

hag  the  desired  effect  I  feel  that  the  fifth 

of  November  will  pass  without  a  sign  of 

I  recognition.    Should  this  be  in  these  day* 

'  of  jubilation  over  Waterloo,  Balaklava,  and 

!  last,  but  not  least,  Trafalgar?    I  venture 

I  to  reply  in  the  negative,  and  to  remain, 

Yours  faithfully,     GUT  FAWKBM. 

P.S. — My  only  consolation  is  that  I  am 

very    well    represented    by    most    of    the 

London  statuary. 

"Shine,  Moon,  Shine  I  " 

[Mr.  E.  R.  P.  MOON,  M.P.  for  North  St.  Pucru, 
1  ha*  gone  to  Canea  to  «tudy  the  Cretan  question.] 

BRAVO,  MOON  1  Will  he  let  in  a  little 
moon-light  on  the  difficulty  ?  Perhaps  just 
a  silvery  moon-beam  on  the  troubled  waters. 
Or  will  his  visit  only  result  in  Moonshine  t 


CoNscimnTious   LAWTBR'S 
right :  don't  write. 


ADVICB.—  Do 


202 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  30,  1897. 


.1))) 


OCTORRR  30,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


'J03 


A  LIBKK&L  EDUCATION. 

I"  Another  'ex-head-ma«t»r,*  with  an  experience 
of  wvciitccii  years  as  head  of  a  public  school,  seri- 
"Ufily  asks  whether  it  would  not  be-  tatter  to  tench 
I)  i\  s  cheos  than  Latin  ventei." — St.  Jania'i  Oaiel/r, 
Oft.  18.1 

MKSHIIH.  TKACIIKM  AND  TRAINEMUP  beg 
to  call  the  attention  of  parents  to  the 
unique'  educational  advantages  offered  by 
tliein  at  Cramwell  College.  The  gratifying 
VIH Tosses  achieved  by  many  of  their  former 
pupils  eive  the  best  testimony  to  the  niorit 
of  their  system,  which  has  completely 
suoerseded  the  old-fashioned  theories  ot 
education.  Their  terms  for  boarders  be- 
tuecn  the  ages  of  ten  and  eighteen  are 
£200  per  annum,  which  will  appear  a  very 
moderate  figure  when  the  expense  involved 
in  maintaining  their  brilliant  staff  of 
n  Distant-masters  is  taken  into  considera- 
tion. The  following  subjects,  amongst 
others,  are  taught  with  the  greatest  care  : 

1.  Lessons  in  Chess  are  given  to  every 
boy  in  the  upper  school,  under  the  direc- 
tion of  Professor  GAMBIT,  the  well-known 
player.    Two  hours  a  day  are  set  aside  for 
this  subject,  and   there   are  examinations 
in  end-games   and   problems  every  week, 
besides  a  tournament  at  the  close  of  each 
term,  by  which  the  boy's  place  in  claas  is 
finally   decided.      It   is   clearly  recognised 
nowadays  that  Chess  is  a  far  more  valuable 
study  than  any  of  the  worthless  dead  lan- 
iiiiiigps.      Boys  in    the   middle   school   are 
taught  Draughts,  while  thos^  in  the  lower 
school  are  thoroughly  grounded  in  Halma. 

2.  While    Chess    replaces,    as    has   been 
indicated,  the  study  of  Latin  and  Greek, 
it   hns  been  found  that  Billiards  forms  an 
admirable     substitute     for     mathematics. 
And,  considering  the  enormous  educational 
importance  of  this  game,  we  have  added 
that   celebrated    player,    Mr.    WYNNYNG* 
HAZARDK,  to   our  staff  of  masters.     Each 
boy  is  expected  to  bring  to  school  at  the 
beginning  of  term  his  own  cue  and  a  dosien 
pieces  of  ch«lk.    The  lower  forms  are  given 
lessons  in  Bagatelle  as  a  stepping-stone  to 
the  nobler  game,  and  no  one  is  admitted 
to  the  upper  fifth  until  he  has  made  a  break 
of  over  twenty.     Indeed,  conscious  of  our 
responsibility   towards  the   rising    genera- 
tion, we  take  the  utmost  pains  that  our 
nupils  shall  receive  the  best  possible  teach- 
ing in  this  all-important  subject.    And  that 
we  have  not  been  altogether  unsuccessful 
is  shown  by  the  number  of  important  and 
responsible  posts  now  filled  by  old  Cram- 
wellians.      The  markers   at  the  "  Spotted 
Dog"  of  Hounsditch.  the  "Red  Lion"  of 
Tooting,  the  "White  Hart"  at  Puddleton, 
and  many  others,  Ml  received  their  early 
training  at  Cramwell  College. 

3.  In   the  place   of   modern  languages, 
history,   and    geography — useless   subjects 
too  long  retained  in  the  ordinary  scholastic 
curriculum — our   pupils  are   instructed  in 
the  game   of   whist   by  Professor  TRUMP- 
SIKH.   whose  name  is  a   guarantee  of  the 
excellence  of  the  teaching.     Parents   are 
requested  to  provide  their  sons  with  five 
shillings    a    week    as    card-money    during 
term-time.     In  addition   to  the    ordinary 
prizes,    we    offer    annually    a    scholarship 
of  £10  for  especial  merit  in  whist.     The 
present  holder  is  Master   BROWN   major, 
aged  seventeen,    who  gained  the   distinc- 
tion by  his  essay   "On   American   Leads, 
with    an   excursus    on    Finessing."      Pro- 
fessor TRUMPSTER  also  lectures  on  Ecarte, 
Picquet,     and     Bezique,     while     another 
Professor  (who   prefers  to  remain   name- 
less, but  who  for  many  years  has  enjoyed 


THE    SLOCUM    POGIS    TOILET-CLUB. 

"THESE  'ERE  BARBERS  MAKES  A.  RARE  LOT  o'  FUSS  ABOUT  IT,  BUT  'TAIN'T  KOWT  TO 

SIIKKP  SHEARIN'." 


a  large  and  lucrative  practice)  gives  in- 
struction in  the  Three-Card  Trick  to  those 
boys  whose  parents  wish  it.  An  extra  fee 
of  £10  is  charged  for  this  course,  which, 
however,  will  ensure  for  eaoh  pupil  who 
masters  it  a  constant  source  of  income  in 
future  years.  Lessons  are  also  given  to 
the  junior  forms  in  Dominoes,  Beggar-my- 
Neighbour,  and  Spillikins.  It  willthus  be 
seen  that  the  educational  course  at  Cram- 
well  College  thoroughly  prepares  the  boys 
for  their  subsequent  careers  in  the  world, 
and  the  improvement  on  the  old  form  of 
public-school  education  is  indeed  enormous. 
From  time  to  time  parents  inquire 
whether  we  give  our  pupils  any  instruction 
at  all  in  such  subjects  as  mathematics, 
history,  geography  and  languages.  Of 
course  we  cannot  allow  the  hours  which 
should  be  devoted  to  the  serious  study  of 
games  to  be  frittered  away  upon  such 
trivial  subjects  as  these.  But  we  have  no 
objection  to  allowing  a  boy  to  read,  for 
instance,  ECCLID  and  THTTCYDIDES  in  his 
playtime.  Only  it  must  be  clearly  recog- 
nised that  proficiency  in  Chess,  Billiards, 


AT.,  is  of  far  more  real  importance  to  him, 
and  that  these  other,  more  frivolous,  stu- 
dies must  be  kept  in  their  proper  place. 

Messrs.  TEACHEM  AND  TRAINBMTTP  will  be 
delighted  to  answer  any  questions  from 
parents  who  think  of  entrusting  their  sons 
to  their  charge,  and,  for  a  testimonial  to 
the  worth  of  their  system,  can  refer  en- 
quirers to  "an  ex-head-master,  with  an 
experience  of  seventeen  years." 


SOLVITUR  CANBNDO.  —  For  continued 
neglect  of  French,  Tommy  had  earned  a 
caning.  The  cane,  wielded  by  Dr.  Barlow, 
missed  Tommy's  hand.  ''This,"  cried 
Tommy,  "  is  what  I  call  the  '  cire  perdue ' 
process !  "  "  Whv  so  ?  "  inquired  his  mas- 
ter, pausing.  "Because,"  replied  the  ju- 
venile humorist,  "it  is  '  irhaek*  iMst.'" 
The  yguif  UT  can  be  easier  imagined  than 
described.  

PROVERBS  GONE  WRONO. — One  man  may 
look  into  a  house,  while  another  mayn't 
even  leap  over  a  haystack. 


204 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[OCTOBER  30,  1897. 


TAR-MADE    IN    GERMANY. 

Mr.  Punfh.  " HULLO!    WHO  ARE  YOU?" 

Jack  Tar.  "  MINE  FREENB,  DO  YOU  NOT  KNOW  ME  1  I  AM  DF. 
BRIDISH  SAILOR." 

[According  to  the  report  just  issued  by  the  Registrar-General  of  Shipping 
and  Seamen,  British  snips  are  becoming  more  and  more  manned  by  foreigners, 
and  in  the  process  of  time,  the  British  seaman  will  be  as  extinct  as  the  Dodo. 
Out  of  125,009  seamen  employed  last  year  in  British  sailing  ships  anc1 
steamers,  27,446  were  foreigners.] 


OUR  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

HER  MAJESTY  has  had  many  gifts  presented  to  her  in  Jubilee 
Year.  Possibly  none  is  more  prized,  few  could  be  more  magnifi- 
cent, than  the  dedication  of  The  Oxford  Dictionary,  the  third 
volume  of  which  has  just  issued  from  the  Clarendon  Press  under 
the  direction  of  Mr.  HENRY  FROWDE.  Lord  ALDENHAM,  in  addi- 
tion to  contributing  two  sons  to  the  House  of  Commons,  read  all 
through  the  proof-sheets  of  the  first  volume.  My  Baronite  sits 
amazed  at  contemplation  of  all  he  must  know.  SHAKSPEARE 
managed  to  write  his  plays  with  the  employment  of  20,000 
words.  Dr.  MURRAY  and  his  coadjutors  in  the  work  of  The 
Oxford  Dictionary,  have  as  yet  approached  only  the  sixth 
letter  of  the  alphabet.  Yet  they  have  exhaustively  dealt 
with  over  97,000  words.  The  erudition  displayed  is  equalled 
by  the  aptness  and  ingenuity  of  the  illustrations  drawn  from  the 
field  of  the  world's  literature.  Nothing  on  the  same  scale  has 
ever  been  attempted.  Nothing  approaching  it  has  ever  been 
accomplished.  The  work,  undertaken  fifteen  years  ago,  will, 
according  to  present  plans,  be  finished  in  the  year  1910 — a  superb 
legacy  left  by  the  nineteenth  century  to  its  successor. 

Do  not  be  frightened  by  the  title  of  one  of  S.  BARING-GOULD'S 
most  recent  novels,  Bladys  of  the  Stewponey.  It  is  not  a  warn- 
ing to  hippophagists  given  to  stewing  and  devouring  ponies. 
"  The  Stewponey  "  was  originally  "  The  Estepona  Tavern,"  and 
who  Bladys  was,  and  how  she  became  associated  with  the 
Stewponey,  and  what  consequences  to  the  charming  heroine  re- 
sulted therefrom,  is  it  not  all  written  in  this  book,  and  is  not  the 
book  worth  reading?  Most  decidedly.  'Tis  aa  interesting  a 
tale  as  has  ever  come  out  of  the  head  of  the  ready-writing  author, 
whose  only  error,  to  the  Baron's  thinking,  is,  that  he  has  written 
a  preface  to  it,  which  is  not  calculated  to  assist  the  romance,  but, 
by  telling  you  "  how  it 's  done,"  rather  detracts  from  the  story. 
Avoid  the  preface  until  you  have  finished  the  story.  It  is  very 
well  illustrated  by  Messrs.  TOWNSEND  and  MTJNNS,  and  is  pub- 
lished by  METHTTEN  &  Co. 


Too  many  cooks  spoil  the  broth.  That  is  the  proverbial  rule  : 
to  which  the  clearly-typed,  well-written  and  well-bound  little 
volume,  called,  London  in  the  time  of  the  Diamond  Jubilee,  is  a 
most  decided  exception,  although  its  authors  are  EMILY  CON- 
STANCE COOK  and  E.  T.  COOK,  M.A.  This  Cookery  Book  is 
edited  by  RALPH  DARLINGTON,  F.R.G.S.,  and  published  at  Llan- 
gollen  by  DARLINGTON,  whose  name  (Town  of  the  Darling)  is  so 
suggestive  of  "  Sweet  JENNY  JONES,  the  maid  of  Llangollen," 
and  by  SIMPKIN,  MARSHALL  &  Co.,  in  London.  It  is  well  illus. 
trated,  full  of  useful  information,  and  fitted  with  maps,  which 
have  to  be  taken  up  tenderly,  unfolded  with  care,  and  examined 
with  the  aid  of  a  magnifier.  With  this  book  as  his  guide,  philoso- 
pher, and  friend,  the  stranger  in  the  land  will  find  himself  quite 
at  home,  and  should  never  be  compelled  to  "ask  a  policeman," 
or  to  declare  that  "he  dunno  where  he  are." 

In  their  pocket  editions  de  luxe  of  the  "Temple  Classics," 
edited  by  ISRAEL  GOLLANCZ,  M.A.,  Messrs.  DENT  &  Co.,  of 
Aldine  House,  have  already  given  us  such  argumenta,  ad  pocketum 
as  no  collector  of  daintily-got-up  and  clearly-printed  books  can 
withstand.  By  way  of  adding  to  these  literary  travel- 
ling companions,  bound,  most  handsomely,  to  go  with  us  every- 
where by  sea  or  land,  the  same  Aldine  House  has  commenced  a 
new  series  of  Sir  WALTER  SCOTT'S  novels,  with  useful  glossary 
and  notes ;  the  first  volume  of  Waverley  being  prefaced  by  an 
interesting  Biographical  Not©  by  Mr.  CLEMENT  SHORTER,  a  name 
of  good  omen  where  to  give  multum  in  parvo  is  the  main  object. 

THE  BARON  DE  B.-W. 


ABROAD    IN    THE    AUTUMN. 

Salzburg. — Across  the  Austrian  frontier.  Usual  discomforts  on 
entering  another  country.  Custom  House.  Fresh  customs, 
as  usual,  but  not  fresh  manners.  Yet  perhaps  more  man. 
ners  than  in  Germany.  Also  different  money,  and  such 
money  I  The  florin,  the  gulden,  the  krone,  the  kreutzer 
and  the  heller  are  bad  enough.  Add  to  these  the  Hun- 
garian translations  korona  and  filler,  and  you  have  seven  names 
to  puzzle  the  foreigner.  Then  you  reckon  everything  in  kreut- 
zers,  and  you  inscribe  the  coins  with  the  value  in  hellers. 
Imagine  in  England  all  the  small  coins  being  reckoned  in  far- 
things and  marked  in  half-farthings.  Also  the  change  for  a 
shilling  being  always  farthings  and  threepenny-pieces — the  latter 
in  nickel  so  similar  in  size  and  colour  to  a  shilling  that  one  would 
need  a  strong  light  to  distinguish  them. 

If  that  were  the  case,  an  Austrian  tourist  in  London,  having 
reckoned  that  the  cab-fare  for  a  very  short  distance  should  be 
forty-eight  farthings,  might  in  the  dark  hand  to  the  cabman  a 
nickel  threepenny-bit  instead  of  a  piece  of  ninety-six  half-far- 
things. Then,  perhaps,  you  can — I  cannot — imagine  the  remarks 
of  the  cabman,  and  the  futile  efforts  of  the  Austrian  to  find  "  two 
bob  "  amongst  the  pieces  of  paper,  silver,  nickel  and  bronze  in 
his  pocket.  Such,  reversed,  is  the  unpleasant  position  of  the 
Englishman  in  Austria. 

Salzburg  is  an  interesting  old  city — so  interesting  that  it  is 
being  rapidly  improved  out  of  existence  by  an  Improvement 
Association,  and  so  old  that  at  every  street-corner  you  find  a 
horse-tramcar,  or  a  steam-tramcar,  or  an  electric-tramcar,  or  a 
railway  up  the  hill,  or  a  railway  down  the  hill,  or  a  funicular  rail- 
way, or  something  medieval  of  that  sort.  There  is  a  castle,  in 
the  most  picturesque  situation  imaginable,  to  which  you  go  up 
in  a  lift,  and,  when  you  have  been  lifted  right  to  the  top,  you 
find  an  ancient  terrace,  commanding  a  delightful  view  over  snow- 
capped mountains  and  fertile  valleys,  and  on  the  terrace  half-a- 
dozen  young  ladies  discussing  the  objects  of  interest  in  Ameri- 
kani.ich.  And  there  is  an  hotel,  where  you  might  suppose  that 
you  were  not  in  Austria  at  all,  seeing  that  everyone  speaks 
English,  and  that  the  menu  is  in  French,  and  that  there  is  an 
American  bar  in  the  hall,  where  you  can  find  all  the  cocktails 
you  want.  In  England  you  may  not  so  very  frequently  eat 
" Roastboeuf ,"  "Irishstew,"  "Cheste  Cheese,"  "Mixed  Pikles," 
and  similar  delicacies ;  in  Austria  you  can  have  them  all  daily — 
twice  daily,  if  you  like. 

But  if  you  want  something  superlatively  excellent,  you  should 
not  go  to  Salzburg,  but  to  an  hotel  in  a  neighbouring  village,  the 
name  of  which  need  not  be  mentioned,  thus  advertised  in  the 
English  language  : 

"Post  Hotel  in .  Charming  view,  fine  apartments,  accom- 
plished drink,  captivating  meats,  baths  in  hotel,  &c." 

One  might  obtain  captivating  meats  elsewhere,  but  accomplished 
drink  is  a  luxury  unknown  except  in  that  hotel.  What  are  the 
ingredients  P  ROBINSON  THE  ROVBR. 


MOTTO  FOR  A  COAL  MERCHANT.— Coke  upon  Little  Ton. 


NOVKMBKR  6,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE    LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


205 


COMFORTING. 

Sportsman  (to  Friend  who  has  just  ridden  into  a  Sag,  and  lookt  like  staying  there).  "  BY  JOVE,  OLD  CHAP,  I  BELIEVE  WE'RE  IN  FOR 

A   REAL  OOOD  THING  !  " 


MR.  PUNCH'S  "TATCHO"  MODEL 
ADVERTISER. 

THE  MARIB  CORELLI  Circulation  Creator, 

"PUFFO." 

PTTFFO  for  Prose  Writers. 
PTTFFO  for  Paragraphists. 
PUFFO  for  Pifflers. 
PTTFFO  for  Philosophers. 
PUFFO  for  Princes. 
PUFFO  for  Personages. 

This  mixture  ii  invaluable  for  unirram- 
matiral  middle-class  households.  Taken 
internally  in  large  doses  of  three  to  a 
bottlp  it  prevents  the  patient  from  being 
shocked  at  anything,  and  makes  him  or 
licr  another  man  or  woman.  It  is  lurid, 
unconventional,  scarlet,  effusive,  bom- 
bastic, and  untrammelled.  None  genuine 
without  the  trade-mark,  a  picture  of  a 
patent -leather -booted  Devil  swallowing 
one  plass  of  absinthe,  with  the  legend, 
"  Criticism,  that  is  the  enemy!  " 


PUFFO  has  vellumed  its  way  into  Windsor 

Castle ! 

PUFFO  makes  you  sit  up ! 
PUFFO  has  the  scent  of  Poppies  I 


Bad  men  hate  PUFFO. 

Good  men  love  PUFFO. 

PUFFO  is  POPULAR. 

"  I  certify  that  PUFFO  is  made  from  my 
own  dear  little  teeny-weeny  receipt,  and 
I  don't  care  a  bit  what  naughty  critics  say 
about  it.  (Signed)  MARIE  CORELLI." 


ANENT  A  WEB  DRAPPIT. 

Mr  DEAR  M-B-RLT  B-LL, —  I  read  the 
other  day  in  the  Times  that  a  "fairly 
healthy  man  clad  in  homespun,  and  judi- 
ciously fortified  by  another  product  of  the 


Highlands,  can  face  any  weather  on  a 
Scotch  moor."  This  is  quite  true  ;  but  is 
it  wise  to  let  every  one  into  the  secret  ? 

Yours  ever, 
TAM  TOPER,  LL.D. 
Sqitareborough,  Yoicks. 

Some  Advantages  of  a  London  Fog. 
You  can  meet  your  dearest  enemy  with- 
out looking  at  him,  and  cut  the  atmo- 
sphere with  the  end  of  your  umbrella.  You 
can  also  cut  your  tailor,  if  he  be  foolish 
enough  to  walk  abroad,  with  the  utmost 
unconcern,  and  can  be  certain  of  not  en- 
countering your  bootmaker.  Furthermore, 
you  can  look  into  all  the  shop-windows 
without  any  opposition  from  the  passing 
pickpocket,  and  in  a  great  many  theatres 
you  can  have  a  great  choice  of  seats. 
Lastly,  but  not  leastly,  you  can  attire 
yourself  in  any  costume  which  it  pleases 
you  to  assume,  and  bet  ten  to  one  with 
the  Anti-Gambling  League  that  you  return 
home  after  a  three-miles  stroll  closely  re- 
sembling one  of  the  minstrels  of  Messrs. 
MOORE  AND  BUBGEBS,  or  the  humbler,  but 
not  less  talented  "  busker  "  of  the  sands  of 
Margate  or  Ramsgate.  In  a  London  fog, 
moreover,  you  are  absolutely  unknown  to 
the  police. 

[It  it  neediest  to  state  that  the  above  is  from  our 
Irrepressible  One,  now  in  his  element. — ED.] 

So  there  is  going  to  be  a  new  "  Ash- 
ley's " — a  genuine  Equestrian  Circus,  which 
is  now  being  built  in  a  most  central  posi- 
tion. "  Serious  report  this,"  observes  our 
Medical  Practitioner.  "  It  seems  to  point 
to  the  ossification  of  the  heart  of  London !  " 


VOL.    CXI  1 1. 


206 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVKMPER    6,    1897. 


DUE    NORTH. 

Lord  Eosebery  (Wandering  Musician  from  Manchester  to  Edinburgh).   "I  'VE  NOTHING  NEW.     CAN  ONLY  OIVE  'EM  THE  SAME 

OLD  TUNE  WITH  VARIATIONS  ! " 


NOVKMBKK  6,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


207 


OUE  TO  A  SLOT-MACHINE. 


(  Written  by  u:«y  uf  J'rutent  at  a  waysid 

un  I  he  LineJ'rutii  Tunlrrulgc  to  Eastbuuiiu.) 

On  1  patent  marvel  of  our  time, 

Your  vagaries  I  '11  celebrate 
In  more  or  less  prosaic  rhyme, 

For  lack  of  penny  chocolate. 

I  've  forty  minutes  now  to  kill 
Upon  this  fatuous  single  line, 

That  climbs  each  eastern  Sussex  hill 
In  corkscrew  curves  of  mad  design. 

To  cool  my  heels  is  scarcely  fun 
In  this  most  uninviting  hole, 

Refreshed  by  no  seductive  bun, 
No  "  four  of  Scotch,"  nor  sausage-roll. 

Your  coy,  retiring  slot  I  greet, 
That  shall  my  appetite  beguile 

With  blameless  automatic  sweet— 
I  've  longed  for  food  a  goodish  while  I 

Come,  here  's  the  necessary  coin 
I  tender  your  secretive  maw  ; 

"  Grace  before  meat,"  I  nearly  join, 
In  eager  haste  my  prize  to  druw. 

I  push  it  in  —  it  disappears, 

The  solitary  bronze  I  own  ; 
I  wait  with  mingled  hopes  and  fears  — 

Shall  I  succeed  or  starve  alone  ? 

A  porter  loiters  idly  by, 

And  marks  my  half  -concealed  attempt  ; 
He  mocks,  with  much  too  knowing  eye, 

My  hungry  look,  my  hair  unkempt. 

Why,  what's  the  matter?  Something 
sticks, 

I  've  been  befooled  and  drawn  a  blank  ; 
Confound,  I  say,  such  knavish  tricks, 

The  man  who  made  the  thing  's  a  crank  ! 

And  so  my  praise  is  turned  to  blame  ; 

"  Ode  to  "  —  I  started,  but  I  mean 
(As  I  my  penn'orth  vainly  claim) 

That  I  'in  "  Owed  by  a  slot-machine  I  " 


PROVERBS  RE-SET. 

(liy  oar  Vague  Impressumint.) 

IT  's  no  use  crying  wolf  when  the  fire  is 
out. 

Take  a  pitcher  to  a  well  too  often  and  it 
will  look  over  a  garden  wall. 

What  is  one  man's  meat  is  another  king's 
ransom. 

People  who  live  in  glass  houses  should 
close  tne  stable-door  before  they  are  stolen. 

A  fox  who  likes  sour  grapes  knows  its 
own  father. 

Take  care  of  the  pence  and  you  will 
have  enough  for  lunch  in  the  bush. 

A  cat  may  look  at  a  sow's  ear  and  yet 
be  sold  for  a  sheep  and  a  lamb. 

Convince  a  man  against  his  will  and 
hang  him. 

Give  a  dog  an  inch  and  he  will  soon 
come  home  to  roost. 

A  penny  in  time  costs  nothing.  • 

When  poverty  is  gold  what  is  the  use  of 
silver  ? 

A  nod  is  as  good  as  a  mile  to  the  king  ol 
the  blind  men. 

TRUE  BLUES  AT  STAMMERSHAM. 

THE  first  stone  of  the  New  Bluecoat 
Boys  School,  i.e.,  Christ's  Hospital,  was 
laid  at  Stammersham,  near  Horsham,  tei 
days  ago.  by  H.R.H.,  in  his  capacity  as 
Grand  Master  of  Freemasons,  with  fill1 
masonic  ritual.  "Stammersham"  has  i 
queer  sound  as  the  locality  for  a  greai 
school,  whose  youthful  scholars  are  to  be 
brought  up  as  out-spoken,  genuine  English 
men,  without  any  stammer"  or  "sham" 


Dealer.   "YKs,  Sin,  THAT  Gr.N  WAS  HI-KKII  IF  ON  THF.  FIF.LD  OK  WATERLOO." 

£r<n<m.   "  How  MUCH  no  YOU  WANT  FUR  IT  ? " 

Dealer.  "  WBI.L,  I  KOLH  ONK  TO  A  GENT  TUB  OTHKK  DAY  FOB  THREE  Pousw. 

Brown.  "LOOK  UKIIK,  1  SAY,  NONE  OF  YOUK  BALAKLAVA  CHAKOES  FOK  MF.,  YOU  nrowl 


about  them.  By  the  way,  one  of  the  best 
and  gentlest  of  all  Bluecoat  Boys  was  a 
stammerer,  namely,  CHARLES  LAMB.  May 
there  be  many  such  a  sweet  and  playful 
lamb  among  the  future  Blues  without  the 
stammer  and  with  no  sort  of  sham  about 
them,  and  so,  to  all  masters  and  pupils 
alike  in  their  new  abode,  Mr.  Punch, 
endorsing  all  His  Royal  Highness  said 
on  the-  occasion,  wishes  Happiness  and 
Prosperity. 


NEW  ROLLER  STEAMSHIP.  —  Surely 
there  's  nothing  very  new  in  this.  Very 
few  steamers  in  which  I  have  ever  voyaged 
that  have  not  been  "  rollers."  Yet  if  there 


is  something  new  in  this  steamship,  if  the 
rollers  are  to  he  used  with  the  game  effect 
as  garden  rollers,  then  there  is  every  rea- 
son for  welcoming  them  most  heartily.  But 
in  this  case  ought  not  the  roller-steamer 
to  go  first,  so  that  the  passenger  steamers, 
following  in  its  wake,  can  just  go  over  tin 
track  which  the  roller-steamer  has  levellei 
out  flat  and  smooth  as  the  cloth  of  a 
billiard  table?  That  would  indeed  l*> 
luxurious.  Success  to  the  roller-steamer! 

THIS     MOST    BEAUTIFUL    AND     MAUTIIY1NG 

TREE  IN  LONDON. — The  plane. 


A  CAPITAL  error  is  to  start  a  bu-ir,. •-- 
without  a  capital. 


208 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  6,   1897. 


Slie  (after  a  proposal).     "Way,  YOU  SILLY  EOY,  IF  I  MARKIKD  YOU,  YOU  COULD  XOT  EVEN  DKESS  ME  !" 
Jfe  (bashfully;  yet  eayerly).     "PERHAPS,  WITH  A  FEW  LESSONS,  I  COULD  LEAKS." 


ABROAD    IN    THE    AUTUMN. 

Down  the  Danube. — Karly  start  from  Linz.  Very  scanty 
breakfast.  Order  a  sandwich  on  the  steamer.  Excellent  Ger- 
mans and  Austrians  already  drinking  beer.  Civil  Viennese  waiter 
supposes  that  I  also  require  beer.  If  not,  then  wine.  Assure 
bim  that  I  am  only  hungry.  This  is  almost  too  much  for  his 
pivility.  However,  he  refrains  from  any  comment,  but  I  see  him, 
in  distant  corners,  furtively  watching  the  mad  Englishman  who 
is  not  thirsty  at  9.30  A.M.  First  view  of  Vienna  in  the  Autumn 
evening  is  a  smoky  fog.  Rising  high  in  the  mist  a  gigantic  wheel, 
lighted  up.  I  am  back  at  Earl's  Court.  On  to  Budapest.  Hun- 
garian gentleman  on  board  anxious  to  know  the  correct  pronun- 
ciation of  some  English  names.  He  tells  me  how  to  say  some 
Hungarian  words.  Then  he  remarks  pleasantly,  "  Aingleesh- 
shpokkenhairy."  Do  not  understand.  Of  course  not,  it  is  Hun- 
garian.  Is  it  a  phrase  of  politeness?  Perhaps  it  might  be  use- 
:ul.  Try  to  say  it  after  him.  Manage  it  badly.  He  repeats  it. 
Try  again.  Then  he  translates  it  into  German,  and  I  find  it  is 
only  "English  spoken  here."  Help  him  to  a  more  correct  pro- 
nunciation of  some  English  names  and  words  which  he  mentions, 
and  at  intervals,  till  we  arrive  at  Pest,  he  murmurs  to  himself, 
naking  a  determined  effort  to  master  them,  "  Bimming-gum 
bree — akfast,  gudnight,  SOLSBRY." 

Budapest.— Arrive  after  dark.  '  Out  in  the  morning  and  find 
the  whole  city  cay  with  flags.  Can  it  be  that  the  capital  of  free 
and  enlightened  Hungary  thus  welcomes  the  humble  and  un- 
worthy representative  of  3/r.  Pimch,  always  the  friend  of  free- 
lorn  and  enlightenment  ?  Remember  that  in  Hungary  the  Press  is 
is  free  as  in  England.  Remember  that  some  English  newspapers 
lave  correspondents  who  are  the  friends  of  emperors  and  the  com- 
>anions  of  kings.  Can  it  be  that  all  this  preparation  was  made, 
;he  Burgomaster,  the  Town  Council  and  the  journalists  perhaps 
waiting  at  the  station,  while  I  meekly  slipped  in  by  the  steamer, 
unperceived  in  the  darkness  ?  Do  not  desire  any  fuss,  but  if  as 
he  representative,  always  unworthy,  of  Mr.  Punch,  it  was  my 
duty  to  be  publicly  received,  I  ought  to  have  been  publicly  re- 


ceived. Go  back  to  the  hotel  and  think  this  out.  Could  per- 
haps even  now  take  a  return  ticket  to  the  first  station,  and 
arrive  properly.  Must  at  least  learn  a  suitable  sentence  in  Hun- 
garian in  the  manner  of  the  Champion  Speech-maker  of  Berlin. 
Where  is  that  phrase-book  ?  Here  we  are ;  the  very  thing ! 
Visszontldtdsra !  Au  revoir!  That  will  do  for  the  end  of  a 
speech.  Should  doubtless  put  on  my  evening  clothes.  Before 
doing  so,  had  better  make  quite  sure  those  preparations  are  not 

for  a  correspondent  of  the  T 3!_,or  tne  D V  ^ s>  or  the 

D yT h.     Ring  the  bell.     Enter  Hungarian  chambermaid. 

Speaks  less  German  than  I  do.  Not  much  good  to  say  Visszon- 
tldtdsra to  her.  Besides,  I  do  not  want  to  see  her  again.  Say 
merely  "  Kellner."  Enter  waiter.  The  preparations  are  for  the 
King  of  Roumania.  A  mere  King!  But  at  least  I  escape  any 
fuss.  Am  again  a  comfortable  nonentity,  simply — 

ROBINSON  THE  ROVER. 

Quotations  for  the   Lord  Mayor  Elect,   Colonel 

Horatio   Davies,  M.P. 

SHAKBPEARE  suggests, — "  What  ho,  HORATIO  !  My  sweet 
Lord " — Mayor.  Then  if  his  Right  Honourable  Lordship-that- 
is-to-be;  is  asked  what  will  be  the  chief  events  of  his  Mayoralty, 
the  retired  Colonel  may  aptly  reply  with  TERENCE  (the  early 
Irish  dramatist),  "  Davies  sum,  non  CEdipus!" 


From  the  Military   "Mikado." 

OH  !  this  new  bullet  beats  the  "  dum-dum,"  ' 
The  betting  (if  any)  's  a  pound  to  a  penny 

If  hit  you  are  iuie  to  succumb,  cumb,  cumb, 
So  join  our  expressions  of  glee  ! 


dum-dum," 


"An!"  exclaimed,  enthusiastically,  a  hair-dresser's  assistant, 
who  had  been  out  for  a  holiday,  " 'Ind  'Bad,  in  Surrey!  That's 
the  place  for  Hair !  " 


NOVEMBER    6, 


,   OR  THE   LU.MH'N   '  'HAKIYARI. 


*i  il.ii. 


of  lifth. 


ROYAL  by  right  of  birth, 
And  royal  by  the  sway  that  rule*  the  heart, 
Princess!  the  Hand  that  lays  yon  low  in  earth 
Leaves  you  in  all  our  lore*  a  pUoe  apart. 

Bound  not  by  blood  alone, 
Our  QUEEN  has  held  you  ben  by  dearer  tie*  ; 
And  from  your  life  has  sprung  for  England's  throne 
The  mother  of  our  king*  that  yet  shall  rise. 

So  must  vour  memory  stand  : 
But  still  of  other  praise  the  best  shall  be  :  — 
'•  She  had  the  gentle  smile,  the  open  hand, 
The  unf  orgetting  heart  of  Chanty  1  " 


OUfi  BGOKING-OFFlCt;. 

"  GOD  forbid  that  I  should  at  any  time,  or  under  any  provoca- 
tions, have  been  guilty  of  so  unchristian  a  thought  as  to  doubt 
that  a  bookseller  might  be  a  truly  good  and  honourable  man." 
Thus  S.  T.  COLERIDGE,  nearly  ninety  years  ago,  wrote  to 
WILLIAM  BLACKWOOD.  COLERIDGE'S  capabilities  were  wide  and 
profound.  None  would  claim  for  him  the  ^iit  of  joking.  He 
was  gravely  in  earnest  when  he  penned  th.s  sentence,  which 
throws  a  flood  of  light  upon  the  relations  of  literary  men  and 
publishers  at  the  epoch  when  BTROX  wrote  his  famous  gibe,  *'  Now 
BAKABBAS  was  a  publisher."  A  study  of  the  character  of 
WILLIAM  BLACK  WOOD,  presented  in  Mrs.  OUPHA.VT'S  Annait  of  a 
Publishing  Houte  (BLACK  WOOD),  convicts  the  literary  magnates 
of  the  day  of  sheer  impudence.  In  his  correspondence,  and  in 
every  action  of  his  life,  "the  man  clothed  in  plain  apparel"  of 
the  Ckaldee  Manuscript,  stands  forth  as  an  amalgam  of  most 
that  is  good  in  mankind.  Shrewd  of  head,  kindly  of  heart,  warm  in 
friendship,  magnanimous  to  an  adversary,  of  sound  judgment, 
quick  insight,  liberal  in  mind  and  in  purse,  "  the  bookseller,"  loftily 
contemned  by  the  University  men  of  genius  in  whose  favour  be 
drew  cheques,  shines  among  them  all  with  purest,  serenest  ray. 
The  two  volumes  are  full  of  interest,  throwing  a  flood  of  light 
on  the  history  of  literature  at  the  beginning  of  the  century. 
From  that  misty  land  there  emerge  life-like  figures  of  tumultu- 
ous "  Christopher  North  "  ;  of  versatile  LOCKHABT,  "  the  scor- 
pion which  delighteth  to  sting  the  faces  of  men  "  ;  of  the  poor, 
Tain  "  Ettrick  Shepherd,"  ever  in  lack  of  £50  ;  of  DB  QCINCKT  in 
almost  equal  need  ;  of  ''  bright,  broken  MAGINN  "  ;  of  others  of 
that  period,  and  later,  whose  names  are  familiar  in  English  litera- 
ture. Of  those  we  may  read  in  other  books.  To  my  Baronite, 
Mrs.  OLU-UANT'S  last  work  is  most  precious  as  making  possible 
close  and  intimate  acquaintance  of  the  sturdy  founder  of  the 
House  of  BLACK  WOOD,  whose  personal  qualities  hare  happily 
proved  hereditary. 

The  Lody'i  Walk  (METHCBN  A  Co.),  by  the  late  Mrs.  OLI- 
PHAST,  is  a  sweetly  pathetic,  mystical  story.  The  second  tale 
in  this  volume  is  The  Hhip't  Doctor.  Both  deeply  interesting, 
and  told  with  such  fascinating  simplicity  as  is  the  very  perfection 
of  the  novelist's  art. 

St.  Ives,  by  ROBERT  Louis  STEVENSON  <HEINEMANN>,  does  not 
give  us  the  author  at  anything  like  his  best.  Commence- 
ment, excellent  ;  afterwards,  the  interest  flags,  and  only  here 
and  there  is  attention  arrested  by  a  flash  of  dramatic  inci- 
dent. Its  style  suggests  that  the  author  had  set  himself  the 
task  of  competing  with  THACKERAY  in  Esmond  and  Barry  Lyn- 
don. We  know,  from  the  prefatorial  note,  that  STEVENSON  left 
the  story  three-parts  finished,  and  betook  himself  to  other  work. 
This  seems  to  imply  his  own  dissatisfaction,  or,  it  may  have  been, 
be  was  overcome  by  a  feeling  of  weariness,  a  consequence  of  his 
weak  state  of  health.  Here  and  there  he  has  introduced,  in  so 
careless  a  manner  as  to  be  almost  ostentatious,  modem  slang 
phrases,  which  were.  I  venture  to  say,  not  in  vogue  during  the 
first  twenty  years  of  the  present  century.  And  surely  it  must  have 
been  only  due  to  carelessness  that  he  should  have  described  two 
youths  in  the  house  of  an  elderly  matron  as  "  two  good-looking 
young  fellows  of  the  other  sex."  If  they  were  young  "fellows," 
how  on  earth  could  they  have  been  ''  of  the  other  sex  ?  "  Where 
the  late  Mr.  STEVENSON  left  off  Mr.  A.  T.  QUII.LER  CROUCH  has 
taken  it  up  and  continued  it.  He  finishes  it  in  six  chapters,  and 
so  closely  has  ha  contrived  to  imitate,  his  model  that,  but  for  the 
information  conveyed  in  a  note,  it  would  have  been  uncommonly 
difficult  to  discover  where  STEVENSON  ended  and  CROUCH  began. 
Mr.  OTILLER  CROUCH  is  possibly  unaware  tl...t  the  escape  of  a 
man  from  arrest  by  climbing  into  a  pro!  -sional  aeronaut's 


EXPERIMENTALISM. 

Herbert.  "  BUT,  MILLY  DEAR,   IF  YOU   DON'T  _ WAST  THE  THISC*, 

WHY  ON   EARTH   DID   YOU   BUY   THKM  '" 

Hilly.  "  How  STUPID  TOU  ARE,   HERBERT  1     How  COULD  1  POS- 
SIBLY KXOW  I  DIDN'T  WANT  THEM  TILL  I  HAD  BOUGHT  THEM?" 


balloon,  just  as  it  is  on  the  point  of  starting  from  some  public 
gardens,  was- originally  used  by  ALBERT  SMITH  in  his  1'ottleton 
Legacy,  about  forty  years  ago. 

Christmas  Books !  "  Here  we  are  again !  "  Though  it  is  so 
often  alleged  that  children  of  nowadays  are  not  as  those  of 
former  day*  in  regard  to  juvenile  literature,  yet,  in  spite  of  this 
fin-de-tiMe  accusation,  the  Lamp  of  Nursery  Light  Literature 
burns  as  brightly  as  evtr.  The  royal  convivialities  of  "  Ole  King 
Cole"  and  the  dire  tragedy  of  "Goosey,  Goosey,  Wander"  still 
appeal  with  repeated  charms  to  the  prodigious  mind  of  Baby. 
In  new  and  dainty  attire,  these,  and  many  other  antique  favour- 
ites are  drawn  by  FRANCIS  D.  BEDFORD  (MRTHITEN  A  Co.),  and  on 
the  same  classical  standard  rank*  the  ever  verdant,  or.  more 
correctly,  the  ever  red  Rosebwi  Annual  (JAMES  CLARKE  A  Co.), 
Both  orthodox  editions  for  the  nursery  collection. 

Mrs.  MOLBSWORTH'S  delightfully-told  story  of  .Ui.«  Mouse  and 
her  Boy  will  be  greatly  appreciated  by  those  of  small  advancing 
yean.  The  proverbial  "  quiet  as  a  mouse  "  is  strongly  suggested 
in  this  little  character,  whose  influential  quietness  is  distinctly 
heard  and  felt  by  her  noisier  companions.  The  illustrations  are 
by  LESLIE  BROOKE. 

For  those  children  gifted  with  a  Silas  fTrgg  proclivity  for  drop- 
pine  into  verse,  fled  Applet  and  Silver  Betls,  by  HAMISH  HBXDRY, 
ought  to  touch  their  noetic  fancy  by  the  essentially  inappropriate 
title  :  but  that  U  a  mere  detail  in  the  stretch  of  imagination.  The 
quaint  pictures  are  by  ALICE  B.  WOODWARD.  It  is  published  by 
BLACK  IK  AND  SON.  from  whose  firm  comes  also  a  genuine  boy's 
book,  n'if/i  Frederick  the  Great,  by  the  redoubtable  G.  A.  HBNTY, 
whose  great  idea  is  to  mix  an  historical  powder  in  the  jam  of 
sensation.  THE  BAROX  DE  B.-W. 


210 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  G,  1897. 


A    LIKELY    CUSTOMER. 

"ANY  OLD  BOTTLES  TO-DAY?" 


THE  TRAVELLERS  TRICKED. 
(An  d propos  Duologue.) 

She  (wiih  resolution).  CHARLIE,  I  want 
to  ask  your  pardon.  I  have  made  a  mis- 
take. 

He.    Yes,  dear  ;  which  of  them  ? 

She.  You  shall  not  put  me  out  by  sneer- 
ing. Yes,  I  have  made  a  mistake  ;  and 
when  I  make  a  mistake,  I  do  not  rail  to 
acknowledge  it. 

He.  Quite  right,  dear.  Nothing  like 
having  a  congenial  occupation. 

She.  CHARLIE,  we  came  back  to  town 
prematurely. 

He.  Yes,  dear ;  we  certainly  curtailed 
our  stay  in  Paris  a  little  to  allow  of  your 
purchasing  that  pretty  bonnet. 

She.  It  cost  a  lot  of  money,  CHARLIE. 

He.  It  did,  dear ;    but  I  did  not  grudge 


it,  as  you  and  the  shop  girl  said  it  was  of 
the  first  mode  and  the  greatest  novelty  in 
Paris. 

She.  Yes,  CHARLIE  ;  and  I  believed  her. 

He.  Well,  I  am  sure  that  the  three  or 
four  days  we  cut  off  were  well  worth  it,  to 
buy  the  bonnet. 

She.  How  good,  how  noble  of  you  to  say 
sol 

He.  Not  at  all ;  I  was  really  glad  to  get 
back  to  the  club.  And  you  have  your 
bonnet — a  real  genuine  French  bonnet  I 
And  the  most  Parisian  shape  imaginable. 

She  (with  an  effort).  The  shape  is  not 
Parisian. 

He.  Not  Parisian !  Where  does  it  come 
from? 

She.  I  see  from  a  ticket  in  the  lining  it 
was  made  in  the  Edgware  Road. 

[Tears  and  curtain. 


WONDERS  AT  A  "WEDDING. 

(An  Introspective  Record.) 

WONDER  if  it  is  going  to  be  a  fine  day. 

Wonder  if  I  can  manage  to  put  in  one 
more  quiet  smoke  after  breakfast. 

Wonder  if  the  Best  Man  will  miss  his 
train,  get  married  to  the  Bride,  or  mixed 
up  with  the  Bridesmaids,  otter  me  a 
cigarette  instead  of  the  .Ring  at  the 
critical  moment,  put  my  hat  in  the  pulpit 
or  some  other  inappropriate  place,  or  what 
he  will  be  up  to. 

Wonder  why  I  Ve  got  such  a  tremen- 
dous appetite  at  lunch.  I  Ve  been  eating 
for  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  and  am  still 
nungry. 

Wonder  how  much  longer  it  will  be 
before  her  father  turns  up  with  her.  I  've 
been  acting  as  general  pew-opener  to  the 
congregation  for  the  last  half-hour. 

Wonder  if  the  Bride  will  shake  the  rice 
out  of  her  hair  after  we  have  faced  the 
battle  of  confetti,  harvest  decorations, 
and  other  missiles  outside  the  church. 

Wonder  if  she  has  sufficiently  smudged 
the  newly-painted  name  on  her  travelling- 
tiunks.  These  little  points,  if  unattended 
to,  do  give  the  show  away  so  on  your 
honeymoon-trip. 

Wonder  if  my  old  serge  suit  is  really  too 
shabby  to  go  away  in. 

Wonder  how  many  wrong  people  I  've 
thanked  for  their  presents. 

Wonder  if  we,  and  the  blood-relations, 
and  the  company  generally,  will  part 
friends  after  being  dragged  into  the  wed- 
umg-group  to  be  photographed. 

Wonder  if  I  've  forgotten  to  invite  any 
of  my  third-cousius-twice-removed,  and 
how  many  people  will  scratch  at  the  last 
moment. 

Wonder  if  I  have  got  everything  packed. 

Wonder  if  all  the  luggage  has  gone  on 
first. 

Wonder  if  we  sLall  catch  the  train. 

[Left  wuiideriity. 

While   Mokes   (in   One   Ve.se). 

With  Apologies  to  Mr.  Kipliiy's  "  If  hue  Uvrst-x.'' 
See  the  new  weekly  "Literature.'' 

ENOUGH  of  your  curdled  hollows — 

Enough  of  the  KIPLING  wind — 
Knough  of  the  moaning  groundswell— 

I  wish  it  were  left  behind  1 
If  "  braying  "  is  done  by  horses, 

What  wonder  the  word  '•  abroad  " 
Should  be  used  by  our  wild  white  RUDTARD 

As  a  Cockney  rhyme  to  "  Lord." 


WHAT'S  IN  NAMES? 

In  Spite  of  Fate  is  the  title  of  Mr.  SILAS 
BOOKING'S  successful  new  novel.  It  cannot 
help  being  a  S-Hocking  story  I  And  that 
it  should  be  illustrated  by  Mr.  REASON  is 
certainly  most  suggestive.  Next,  please  t 
Rhyme  illustrated  by  Reason. 

Then  there  is  another  by  Mrs.  HODGSON 
BURNETT,  The  One  I  knew  the  Best  of  All, 
a  memory  of  the  mind  of  a  child,  illus- 
trated by  Mr.  REGINALD  BIRCH.  Poor 
dear  child  !  Illustrated  with  cuts  of  Birch  ! 
BIRCH  ought  to  associate  his  work  with 
HALL  CAINE.  BIRCH,  CAINE  &  Co.  for  a 
Christmas  book  I  Ugh  ! 

Equally  appropriate  to  the  title,  The 
llaughtyshire  Hunt,  to  be  published  by 
BRADBURY,  AGNEW  &  Co.,  in  November, 
is  the  name  of  its  author,  Fox  RUSSELL. 
The  story  ought  to  be  good  from  cover  to 
:over,  and  that  Fox  ought  to  show  us  some 
jood  sport ;  of  gorse  he  ought. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— NOVKMRKB  6,  1897. 


HO  MOKE 

HAKDS 

WAN  TEX) 


A  GLOOMY  PROSPECT. 

FIMST  LABOUR  LEADER.  "  I   SAY— THINGS   ARE   LOOKING    PEEUIOUS   BAD  1 " 
SECOND  LABOUR  LEADER.  "BAD!!      WHY,  WE    SHA'N'T    GET   OUR  PAY    NEXT!!  I" 


K  i A  KIII  KB  6,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


213 


English.  Tourist.  "How  EVER  DO  YOU  KEEP  WARM  WADINO  LIKE  THAT  THIS  WEATHER! 
Old  Scot.  "  WHUSKEY,  NAETUINO  BUT  WHUSKKY  I     I  JCST  TAK'  A  BOTTLE  A  DAY.     MAS, 

IT  "8  GRAND    FOK  THE  CIRCULATION.      MY   WlFE  SAYS   WHJUf   I   PIT   MY   HEAD   IN   THE  WATEK 
IN  THE   MORNING,    SHE  CAN    HEAR   IT   FIZZLE  1  " 


THE  PLUMBEfi. 

(A  New  ChapUr  of  an  Old  Book.) 


1  THE  White  Rabbit  was 
holding  a  jam  tart  in  his  paw,  but  he  sud- 
denly stopped  eating. 

"  What  "s  the  matter  P  "  cried  ALICE,  as 
he  clutched  hia  paw  convulsively  over  the 
lower  part  of  his  waistcoat.  "  Have  you 
got  a  pain  anywhere  P  " 

"  Pain  I "  ejaculated  the  Rabbit.  "  Pain 
isn't  the  word  for  it.  Did  you  ever  live  on 
jam  tarts  for  a  fortnight  ?  • 

"I  can't  say  I  cud,"  replied  ALICE. 
"  But  if  they  make  you  feel  so  ill,  why  do 
you  go  on  eating  them  ?  " 

"Why?"  groaned  the  White  Rabbit. 
"Because  I  can't  help  it.  If  I  don't  eat 
jam  tarts  I  must  starve.  There 's  nothing 
else  to  be  had.  The  cook 's  turned  out  of 
the  kitchen — can't  so  much  as  toast  an  oat. 
so  we  have  to  send  round  to  the  baker,  and 
the  only  thing  he  can  give  us  is  jam  tarts." 

"  But  why  ?    Has  anything  happened  ?  " 

The  Wfiite  Rabbit's  face  turned  pale. 
"Sh!  The  frost,"  he  said.  "The  boiler 
pipe  has  burst,  and,"  he  added,  his  voice 
sinking  to  a  nervous  whisper,  "  the  Plumber 
is  in  possession ! " 


ALICE  looked  bewildered.  "You  don't 
understand  ?  "  he  said.  "  Very  well,  then  ; 
come  and  see." 

The  White  Rabbit  led  the  way  to  the 
kitchen,  and  opened  the  door.  The 
Plumber  was  leaning  against  the  mantel- 
piece, smoking  black  shag.  His  arms  were 
crossed  on  his  bosom,  and  his  gaze  was 
fixed  abstractedly  on  the  ceiling,  whilst 
an  empty  pewter  that  stood  at  1m  elbow 
seemed  to  account  for  the  seraphic  smile 
that  played  on  his  countenance.  He  had 
taken  up  half  the  flooring,  he  had  taken 
down  half  the  wall,  he  had  pulled  the  grate 
to  pieces,  and  the  fragments  lay  scattered 
about  the  room. 

"There  he  is  I"  whispered  the  White 
Rabbit.  "He's  stood  there  for  a  fort- 
night, and  heaven  knows  when  we  shall 
get  rid  of  him." 

The  poor  Rabbit  looked  so  unutterably 
miserable,  and  the  Plumber  so  abominably 
self-satisfied,  that  AI.IIE  felt  her  indigna- 
tion roused. 

"  Well  I "  she  cried.  "  You  're  a  pretty 
workman !  How  much  longer  are  you  go- 
ing to  stand  there  doing  nothing  ?  " 

The  Plumber's  eyes  travelled  slowly 
along  the  ceiling  and  down  the  wall  until 
they  rested  on  ALICE.  "  Doing  nothing !  " 


he  said.  "  That 's  all  you  amateur*  know. 
Can't  you  seo  1  'm  busy  ?  " 

"  Busy  I  "  c-ric-d  ALICE.  "  What  are  you 
doing '(  " 

The  Plumber  blew  a  cloud  of  smoke  from 
his  mouth.  "Attending  to  the  pipe,  of 


The  White  Rabbit  groaned.  \Vh.-i  l»-r 
it  was  tho  jam  tarts  or  the  pun,  ALICE  did 
not  know. 

"  I    don't   see   how    you   cau    be   ilui 
that,"  she  mud.      "  1  know   when  the  pipe 
freeze*    - 

"  You  can't  see  anything,"  retorted  the 
Plumber,  very  rudely,  as  ALICE  thought. 
"  You  're  only  an  ignorant  amateur." 

"  I'm  not> 

"  You  are.  If  you  weren't  ignorant,  you 
would  know  that  it  is  not  the  pipes  that 
freeze,  but  the  water  in  them." 

"Of  course,  I  knew  that,"  ALICE  began. 
But  the  Rabbit  interposed.  "  Don't  argue 
with  him.  please,"  he  begged,  "or  he'll 
pull  all  the  rest  of  the  house  to  pieces. 
And  when  do  you  think  you  wilt  be  fin- 
ished ?  "  he  asked,  turning  to  the  Plumber 
with  a  deprecating  smile. 

"  That  depends  when  I  get  done,"  replied 
the  Plumber. 

"Of  course,"  said  the  Rabbit.  "And 
when  will  that  be?" 

The  Plumber  made  a  mental  calculation 
of  the  amount  of  beer  left  in  the  cellar. 
••  It  might  be  three  weeks,  or  it  might  be 
a  month,"  he  said. 

"  What  1  to  stop  a  little  hole  the  size  of  a 
sixpence  I "  cried  A  LICK. 

"  Ah  1  you  don't  know  what  plumbing  is. 
You've  got  to  find  the  hole  first,  don't 
you  see  ?  I  may  have  to  pull  down  the 
rest  of  the  wail " 

"What!  Haven't  you  found  it  yett" 
asked  ALICE.  But  the  White  Rabbit 
clapped  bis  paw  over  her  mouth.  "  Don't 
argue  with  him,  for  heaven's  sake  I "  he 
exclaimed.  "  He  '11  have  the  house  down 
about  our  ears." 

"  Lucky  if  it  don't  come  of  its  own  ac- 
cord," remarked  the  Plumber.  "The 
foundations  are  rotten,  the  drains  are  rot- 
ten, the  walls  are  rotten,  the  bricks  are 
rotten,  and  as  for  that  boiler — 

"What?  What?"  gasped  the  White 
Rabbit. 

"  It  may  burst  at  any  minute." 

The  White  Rabbit  gave  a  little  shriek, 
and  almost  fainted  with  terror. 

"  It  '•  fizzing  now,"  said  the  Plumber. 

"Oh,  Lord!  oh,  Lord!"  cried  the  Rab- 
bit, and  seizing  ALICE  by  the  hand,  he  ran 
off  with  her  as  fast  as  his  little  legs  could 
carry  him.  When  he  had  got  to  wLat  he 
considered  a  safe  distance,  he  stopped  and 
istened.  "Oh,  dear  I"  he  groaned.  "It 
is  just  going  off.  I  can  hear  it  hubble- 
jubbling." 

But  ALICE  thought  the  sound  he  heard 
was  the  chuckling  of  the  Plumber. 

"  Do  you  know  ?  "  he  whispered  :  "  if  I 
:ould  only  be  sure  t!u>  Plumber  would  be 
ilown  up,  too.  I  should  be  almost  glad  to 
ee  my  house  disappear.  I  believe  it  would 

the  cheapest  in  the  long  run." 
"  I  am  sure  it  would,"  said  ALICE. 


OUR  'ARRY  is  charmed  to  hear,  on  the 
authority  of  the  Atheiueum,  that  "the 
poems  of  the  Bacchylides "  will  be 
mblished  shortly.  "O*  course,"  says 
ARRY.  "  It  '11  be  pictures  of  the  Lidies  as 
ikes  their  'baccy ;  takin'  it  in  cig'rets, 
doncherno.  Good  old  'Baccy  Lidies!" 


214  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBER  6,  1897. 


CEREMONIALS  AND  RECORDS  OF  THE  CITY  OF  LONDON! 

(Official  Extracts  Unofficially  Illustrated!) 


NoVKMBKU    6,     1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE    LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


215 


First  Urchin.  "FIFTH  o'  NOVEMBER,  SIR  I    ONLY  A  COPPER,  SIR!    JIST  A  PENNY,  SIR!" 
Second  Urchin.  "LET  'IM  ALONE.     CAWS'T  rsR  SEE  'E'S  otrg  OF  THE  FAMILY /" 


TOBY  M.P.'S  PARLIAMENTARY  GUIDE. 

I. 

THE  world  is  not 
lacking  in  Parlia- 
mentary  Guides. 
There  is  the  time- 
honoured  Dod,  the 
veracious  Vacker, 
and  others.  None, 
however  valuable 
or  estimable,  at- 
tempt to  fill  a  gap 
long  neglected. 
The  newspaper 
reader  constantly 
comes  ac  ro  ss 
l>hrases  in  Parlia- 
mentary lii'imils  glibly  uttered  in  the 
House,  with  the  assumption  that  every 
one  knows  exactly  what  they  mean.  If 
they  don't,  they  should  ;  and  so  no  matter. 
The  simple  design  of  this  work,  primarily 
conceived  in  the  interests  of  new  Mem- 
bers of  the  House  of  Commons,  will,  it  is 
humbly  trusted,  be  not  without  interest 
and  advantage  to  the  public  at  large. 

"'I'li:-  AMI  Mi-niliir  took  the  Oath  and 
lux  Srat." — In  pursuance  of  a  resolution 
dated  February  23,  1688,  new  Members 
returned  after  a  General  Election  are  "  in- 
troduced to  the  Table  between  two  Mem- 
bers, making  their  obeisances  as  they  go 
up,  thai  tlii'.v  may  bo  the  better  known  to 
the  IIouM>."  So  the  ancient  order  runs, 
and  new  Members  will  do  well  to  observe 
its  spirit  as  well  as  its  letter.  On  being 
introduced  to  the  Table,  they  should  bear 


themselves  with  frank  cordiality,  shaking 
it  warmly  by  the  leg,  and  inquiring  after 
the  health  of  the  family.  Much  depends 
upon  first  impressions.  The  new  Member 
should  make  the  most  of  this  opportunity. 


"  Execute*  a  dance  on  approaching  the  table." 

If,  walking  up  the  floor  escorted  by  the 
two  Members,  he  were  to  halt  midway  and 
execute  a  few  steps  of  a  dance,  it  would 
be  pleasing,  as  testifying  to  a  light  heart, 
and  a  disposition  to  entertain. 

The  Clerk  at  the  Table.— Having  com- 
pleted the  ceremony  of  introduction  to  the 
Table,  the  new  Member  will  find  awaiting 
him  a  gentleman  in  wig  and  gown.  This 
is  the  Clerk.  Ordinarily,  new  Members, 
observing  his  hand  outstretched,  place  in 
it  the  certificate  of  the  Clerk  of  the  Crown 
that  the  return  to  the  writ  is  duly  made. 
That  is  a  mistake,  and  though  the  Clerk 
says  nothing,  being  of  retiring  disposi- 
tion, long-suffering  under  this  persistent 
error,  he  feels  it  none  the  less.  The  new 


Member  should  seize  the  extended  hand, 
heartily  shake  it,  and  in  tones  indicative 
of  keen  interest,  ask,  "  How  is  Mrs. 
KrugerP"  or  whatever  the  name  of  the 
Clerk  may  be.  This  he  will  be  careful  to 


Shaking  hands  nith  the  Cleik  1 

ascertain  beforehand.  No  man  likes  to  be 
asked  after  tome  other  man's  wife  under 
the  impression  that  she  is  his  own. 


Time's  Protest. 

"Ir  Time  permit."    Egregious  man, 

To  put  the  blame  on  Edaz  Renim! 
One  section  of  you  makes  a  plan, 

The  other  does  his  best  to  queer  'em. 
Penelope's  web  is  still  your  model, 

One  party-spinner  just  begins  it ; 
Another  tries,  by  tedious  twaddle, 

To  unravel  fast  as  t'other  spins  it. 
If  thus  you  waste  your  work  and  wit, 

In  your  mad  spirit  of  modernity, 
To  finish  aught  Time  tron't  permit, 

Nor,  for  that  matter,  would  Eternity! 


216 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  6,  189/ 


PROFESSIONAL    COURTESY. 

Obliging  Cornet.  "WANTS  A  BOB  EASY,  DON'T  YER  ?  WELL,  NEXT 
ROAD  BUT  ONE— NUMBER  THREE— OLD  GENT  ILL— BUY  YOU  OFF  IN 
TWO  MINUTES  IF  YOU  DIVES  IT  'EM  STRONG  !  " 


THE  HEATHEN. 

(Perverted  from  the  Manx.) 

BLIZZARDO  !    BLIZZARDO  ! !    BLIZZARDO  ! !  ! 

It  was  on  all  the  Hilarity  sandwiches.  Enigmatic  as  it  might 
appear  to  the  common  crowd,  for  one  this  simple  iteration  was 
pregnant  with  meaning.  That  one  was  ALLELUIA  GROUSE,  seated 
at  the  time  in  an  automatotor,  going  neither  she  nor  the  driver 
knew  exactly  whither.  At  first  she  had  failed  to  take  it  all  in. 
You  know  how  trying  it  always  is  when  you  come  straight  out  of 
the  comparative  retirement  of  a  nunnery  into  the  whirl  and  glare 
of  the  Metropolis,  with  its  omnibuses  and  heady  gas-lights.  It 
was  only  during  one  of  the  vehicle's  involuntary  pauses  that  she 
began  to  grasp  the  purport  of  the  posters.  It  was  her  love,  her 
LTTKE  BLIZZARD,  the  chaste  dream  of  her  childhood,  who,  under 
the  thin  veil  of  an  Italian  pseudonym,  was  to  make  sport  for  the 
sensual  multitude  in  a  music-hall.  How  changed  from  the  LUKE 
of  those  dear,  dead  days  of  innocence,  when  they  climbed  the 
tree  of  knowledge  together,  he  in  flannels,  she  in  a  lily  jersey 
and  her  own  ruby  curls ! 

Suddenly  from  without,  through  the  Great  Horseless  Carriage- 
window  sprang  the  nunnery  bull-pup,  Sandowski.  The  faithful 
creature  had  been  following  her  into  the  wide,  wide  world  on 
the  petroleum-cistern,  from  which  he  had  displaced  three  extra 
pass3ngers,  eating  a  small  piece  of  each.  Ah !  he  at  least  had 
not  changed  ;  life,  then,  was  not  all  illusion ! 

These  meditations  were  rudely  interrupted  by  a  diversion  on 
the  part  of  the  automatotor.  The  machine  had  been  super- 
natnrally  arrested  at  the  very  door  of  the  Hilarity.  Gorgeous 
equipages  were  depositing  fair  women  in  music-hall  cloaks  and 
satin  shoes ;  also  brave  men  in  patent  leather  and  shirt-fronts  : 
some  with  three  studs,  some  with  two,  some  with  one.  A 
momentary  doubt  assailed  her.  The  pit  I  Its  very  name  was 
associated  in  her  guileless  mind  with  the  eventual  end  of  the 
ungodly  1  But  curiosity,  the  fatal  passion  to  know  the  worst, 
overcame  her  scruples.  She  entered  the  vestibule,  closely  pur- 
sued by  Sandowski.  The  portal  guardian  attempted  to  oppose 
the  entrance  of  the  bull-pup.  "Mark  him,  Sandowski!"  she 


said;  and  the  man  retired  abashed.  The  same  unstudied  tact 
carried  her  past  a  row  of  brilliant  flunkeys,  and  easily  secured 
her  a  seat  in  the  front  row  of  the  pit.  The  dog,  not  easily 
astonished,  curled  his  lithe  form  under  her  feet. 

For  a  time  she  forgot  her  object  in  the  novelty  of  the  scene, 
about  which  the  reader,  if  he  has  not  had  the  author's  advantages, 
ought  to  be  told  something.  An  interval  was  on.  Clouds  of 
rank  tobacco-smoke,  very  distressing  to  many  ladies  of  the  aris- 
tocracy, obscured  the  prnsccn/iiim .;  while  champagne  for  the 
front  seats,  and  beer  for  the  back,  flowed  in  open  conduits  down 
the  radii  and  diaznmata  of  the  auditorium.  Sandowski  noticed 
this,  and  helped  himself.  At  length  the  band  began  to  play. 
The  music  had  reference  to  the  new  performer,  not  to  the  one 
who  had  gone  off  ten  minutes  before.  A  lady  came  on  and  sang 
something  about  another  lady's  back-hair,  and  the  place  where 
it  hung.  ALLELUIA  was  inexpressibly  shocked.  She  looked 
round  at  the  shameless  faces  behind  her  grinning  saucily  above 
their  light  frock-coats  (a  popular  form  of  apparel  in  the  pit). 
"  Such,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  are  the  nightly  pleasures  of  our 
people.  O  my  country,  my  country!"  Involuntarily  she  had 
lapsed  into  quotation  from  a  Mr.  CAINE,  gifted  Manx  expert,  and 
widely  recommended  to  the  rising  generation  of  Man. 

Presently,  a  new  number  was  put  up.  In  case  it  is  not  gene- 
rally known  that  these  numbers  correspond  to  those  in  the  pro- 
grammes, and  are  slid  into  picture-frames  on  the  stage  by  liveried 
minions,  let  this  fact  be  no  longer  concealed.  Through  the  roar 
of  anticipation  which  shook  the  Oriental  building,  ALLELUIA  could 
detect  the  offensively  vulgar  phrase,  "Good  old  BLIZZARDO!" 
She  strongly  resented  this  tone  of  universal  proprietorship.  Her 
feet  swam  under  her  as  she  saw  a  figure,  only  too  familiar,  ad- 
vance jauntily  to  the  footlights,  which,  it  should  be  said, 
are  placed  in  the  forepart  of  the  stage.  Though  sadly 
marred  by  a  false  nose  and  a  "  bald  comic  "  she  readily  recog- 
nised the  speaking  features  of  her  love  of  the  old  Manx  days. 
Nodding  to  the  audience,  he  began  to  sing.  Ah !  the  sweet  old 
song !  How  often  had  she  heard  him  give  it  in  her  native  isle  at 
the  Sodor  and  Man  diocesan  treats !  The  same  massive  bari- 
tone, the  same  persuasive  delivery,  the  sime  irresistible  contor- 
tions of  the  face,  allowing,  of  course,  for  the  change  of  nose  ; 
but,  then,  how  significant  that  change !  how  subtly  fraught 
with  sinister  import ! 

The  song  was  a  little  thing  in  the  original  Gaelic,  which  went 
straight  to  the  heart  of  every  Anglo-Saxon  in  the  house.  Inno- 
cent as  were  the  words  (in  the  original),  they  suffered  severely 
from  the  audience  in  the  process  of  ignorant  translation.  The 
ungovernable  licence  of  the  pit  lent  to  them  just  any  meaning 
that  appealed  to  its  low,  its  deplorably  low,  taste.  The  air  was 
thick  with  innuendos ;  the  floor  paved  with  double  intentions. 
On  one  of  the  stoutest  slabs  stood  a  philanthropist  in  a  dark 
cloak,  leering  suggestively  from  under  his  Babylonish  sombrero. 

But  the  saddest  thing  of  all  was  that  the  singer  seemed  to 
approve  the  improper  interpretations  of  the  crowd.  Twice  he 
openly  winked  ;  once  at  the  trombone,  once  at  the  triangle  (a 
three-cornered  tinkling  instrument)  ;  and  as  he  took  leave  of  the 
audience  he  had  the  effrontery  to  hitch  up  his  trousers  at  the 
knee,  only  slightly,  it  is  true,  but  enough  to  discover  a  portion 
of  pea-green  sock  in  a  way  that  was  far  from  delicate.  The 
effect  was  instantaneous :  it  brought  down  great  fragments  of 
the  house.  With  that  brute  instinct  which  is  often  superior 
to  the  moral  intelligence  of  fallen  man,  the  dog  Sandowski 
emitted  a  howl ;  thus  drawing  upon  himself  the  attention  of 
a  Member  of  the  Force  (in  plain  clothes),  who  proceeded  to 
arrest  him  for  being  without  a  muzzle.  In  vain  a  very  gallant 
neighbour  declared  that  he  was  its  guilty  owner ;  for  Randowski 
at  once  took  him  in  the  jaw  before  being  felled  to  the  ground 
by  a  blow  from  the  constable's  whistle.  And  even  as  LUKE 
BLIZZARD  was  coming  on  for  his  encore,  wearing  a  wreath  of 
damask-roses,  the  gift  of  an  admirer  in  the  stage-box,  ALLELUIA 
GROUSE  was  being  ignominiously  passed  on  from  chuckerout  to 
chuckerout  in  the  wake  of  her  inanimate  hound.  Her  heart 
was  too  full  to  pay  much  attention  to  the  philanthropist  in  the 
Babylonish  sombrero,  who  was  just  then  hovering  round  the 
pit-door,  taking  notes  for  his  new  work,  If  Mr.  Stead  went 
in  the  Stage. 

Author's  Note  to  the  Editor  (not  necessarily  for  publication). — Will  you 
mrn  my  profound  gratitude  by  (tivin?  publicity  to  the  fact  tnat  the  above 
vork  has  been  soundly  advertised  in  the  City  and  Suburban  pulpit?  [Cer- 
ainly  not. — Eo.] 

WHEN  on  the  first  day  of  Term  time  most  of  the  Legal  Lumi- 
naries lightened  up  the  venerable  Abbey  of  Westminster,  what 
an  opportunity  of  improving  the  occasion  was  missed  by  not 
•eading  to  them  something  from  one  of  the  books  of  Judges  just 
jy  way  of  a  "  Lesson  "  ! 


NOVEMBER  13,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


217 


"AWFULLY  BAD  SHOT,  THAT  CHAP.     WHO  is  UK?"  "On,  THAT'S  PINXIT,  THK  ARTIST.     HE  SHOULD  HAVE  A  GOOD  BYE." 

".MUST  BE  FOR  PERSPECTIVE,  THF.K.    SEBMS  TO  BE  ALWAYS  AIMING  AT  THE  VANISHING  POINT,  DON'T  TOW  KNOW." 


SAFE  IN  PORT. 

(A  London  Bachelor  plait/idly  addreiatt  certain 
Country  Sirtnt.) 

FLO,  PHYLLIS,  DORA,  understand, 

Not  yours  for  better  or  for  worse, 
I  cannot  give  you  heart  or  hand, 

But  only — all  I  have — a  verse. 
For  you  has  failure  been  decreed — 

I  cannot  say  that  1  am  sorry — 
And  you  have  had  bad  sport  indeed, 

A  silly  pack,  a  worthless  quarry  I 
You  all  were  clever  to  extract — 

And  it  amused  me,  I  confess — 
From  common  courteous  word  and  act 

A  compromising  tenderness. 
"  Sermons  in  stones  "  who  finds,  I  've  heard, 

Displays  a  certain  penetration  ; 
But  you — in  every  civil  word, 

You  found  a  lover's  declaration  1 

You  simpered  at  a  "how  d'ye  do?" 

You  blushed  in  the  absurdest  way, 
As  if  I'd  any  thought  of  you, 

When  I  observed,  "  A  charming  day  I  " 
Your  tennis  party,  FLO,  was  grand, 

Your  mother  almost  asked  me  whether 
I'd  spoken  yet  (she  squeezed  my  hand)— 

Because — we  "d  played  two  setts  together  I 

I  asked  you,  PHTLLIS,  for  a  song — 
That  made  me  yours  at  once,  I  found  I 

I  came  in  time  to  thus  belong 
In  turn  to  half  the  girls  around  I 

Safety  in  numbers,  I  'm  advised  ; 
I  let  the  game  go  on  right  gaily, 


A  Suggestion  for  the  Ladira  if  their  Cape  Collars 
get  mui  h  bin  her. 


And  managed  to  get  "  compromised  "- 
But  with  a  different  Siren  daily ! 

Now  when  the  hour  of  tea  occurs. 

No  doubt  I  get  my  share  of  "  dirt " — 
Consuming  cakes  and  characters, 

Of  course  you  whisper  "  Shocking  flirt !  " 
Ah,  well  I  Abuse  me,  if  you  must, 

Because  your  little  plans  miscarry  ; 
You  "II  do  no  good — or  harm,  I  tru*t  — 

At  least  you  will  not  make  me  marry  1 

THE  NEW  JUDGE. 

A  CORRESPONDENT,  who  does  not  reveal 
his  name,  but  whose  address  is  significant, 
sends  us  the  following:  — 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — Just  struck  with  a 
brilliant  idea.  If  you  want  to  get  to 
France  without  going  there,  disagree  with 
the  new  Judge.  Then  you  '11  be  crossing 
the  ChanneU !  Yours,  Ac., 

Padded  linom,  Hanwrll. 

THE  solution  of  the  Eastern  Question, 
to  use  Lord  SALISBURY'S  phrase,  remains 
"  within  the  domain  of  prophecy."  Then 
by  all  means  let  us  secure  the  profit. 

SUGGESTED  AS  A  SEASONABLE  RACE  FOB 
LICENSED  VICTUALLERS. — A  Pint-to-Pint 
Steeplechase.^ 

SUITABLE  NAME  TOR  THE  N«W  BULUWATO 
RAILWAT.— The  Colossus  of  RHODES. 


VOL.   rxm. 


218 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  13,  189T. 


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NOVEMBER  13,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


219 


THE  CKY  OJ!'  THE  COKONER. 

["  The    LulldoU    colonel  K   ....    have    ulgalil- 

theuibelvcH  into  un  *  Ajutueiutiuu.'  .  .  .  They  ha\i 
just  addrebged   u  circular   to   the  County  Counci. 
complaining  that  they  uru  underpaid.  ...  It  in  ull 
very   bud ;  especially   a*   we   notice    by   the  lat 
vuluuie  ol  the  Council'^  btutifttica  that  the  Chairman 
of  the   '  Association '  appear*  to  be  only  n 
£2,2-14  per  annum." — JJmiy  C'/irwuc/e.J 

You  may  talk  of  the  briefless  that  battens 

Oil  a  crust  at  the  close  of  the  (la;, 
Of  the  curate  whose  family  fattens 

On  a  second-rate  scavenger's  pay  ; 
You  may  post  your  fraternal  remittance 

To  the  hungry  locked-out  engineer — 
What  of  us,  with  our  pitiful  pittance 

Ol  a  couple  of  thousand  a  year? 

And  the  work  1     Why,  the   work  'a  never 
finished ! 

You  may  think  it  is  over,  but  tush  I 
If  the  accidents  should  be  diminished 

The  suicides  come  with  a  rush. 
And  the  babies  1     We  seem  to  be  at  'em 

The  whole  of  our  weary  career, 
And  they  don't  add  a  half-penny,  drat  'em ! 

To  our  couple  of  thousand  a  year. 

Then,  when  there  are  any  explosions, 

We  have  to  establish  our  courts, 
And  the  Government  vex  our  emotions 

By  calling  for  lengthy  reports. 
Oh  1  the  sorrows  that  wear  out  the  soul  of 

The  coroner  I    Isn't  it  clear 
That  it 's  simply  a  scandal,  this  dole  of 

A  couple  of  thousand  a  year? 


ELECTORAL  JOYS. 

JUST  been  invited  to  sit — I  mean  stand 
— for  Grimyville,  great  working-class  con- 
stituency. Must  declare  for  eight-hours 
day,  toady  the  Union,  and  generally  pose 
as  friend  of  horny-handed  sou  of  toil. 
Call  on  Mr.  JOHN  BIQWOKDS,  Secretary  ot 
Amalgamated  Union  of  Nailwhackers  and 
Confederated  Trades  Association,  the  great 
Labour  Leader,  and  ask  his  advice  re  my 
electoral  campaign.  Discover  him  smoking 
choice  Cabana  and  drinking  HEIDBIRCK'S 
Dry  Monopole.  After  declining  drink,  1 
explain  my  mission.  L.  L.  smiles  in  supe- 
rior manner,  and  says, 

"  Wot  you  want  to  do,  guVnor,  at  the 
workin"  man'i  meetiu'  to-night,  is  to  pitch 
'em  the  tale.  Wot's  thatP  Oh!  just  a 
bit  of  the  usual.  'Ere's  a  few  things  to 
say.  Tike  'em  dahn  on  yer  notes.  Fust 
of  all,  tell  'em  they  're  not  men  at  all.  but 
slaves,  crushed  under  the  iron  'eel  o  the 
opresser.  Wot  ?  You  say  as  they  're  gettin' 
good  wages?  Well,  o  course  they  are. 
Wot  'a  that  got  to  do  with  it  ?  Then  tork 
abiiht  the  bloatered  haristocracy.  and  say 
w'y  should  the  pore  man  work,  an  give  the 
sweat  of  'is  brah  to  keep  the  opresser  in 
leisured  hopulence  ?  Don't  forgit  that 
word,  hopulence  :  it  'its  'em,  I  tell  yer, 
strite.  You  says  they  won't  understand 
wot  it  means  P  That  don't  make  no  differ- 
ence ;  it  SM hinls  well,  and  that 's  orl  you 
got  ter  think  abaht.  After  you  done  thiv 
speak  contemptuous  abaht  the  soldier 
hoffioers  as  gilded  popinjays.  Wot  does 
that  meanP  Oh,  I  dunnol  You're  too 
perticlder,  guv'nor,  you  are.  You  try  an' 
work  'em  up  for  a  strike,  that 's  your  gime. 
'Ow  do  yer  work  a  strike  ?  Oh,  easy !  Jest 
go  an'  say,  '  W'y  should  they  be  dahn- 
trodden,  w'y  ain't  they  as  good  as  the 
marsters,  an'  w'y  should  the  Capitalist 
suck  their  berlud  ? '  and  the  job  's  as  good 
aa  done.  Don't  you  fear  I  It 's  the  easiest 


The  Rev.  Mr.  Henpecked  (examining  boyi  in  Natural  History).   • 
IS  THE  MASCULINE  OF  VIXEN  ?  "  Sammy  Smith  (promptly). 


'Now,  SAMMY  SMITH,  WHAT 
"VicA«,  SIB." 


thing  in  the  world  for  to  make  men  ber- 
leeve  they  're  hiniured  hinnooents." 

I  venture  to  ask  Mr.  BIQWORDS,  "  Why  ' 
get  up  strike  if  not  necessary  P  " 

"  Not   necessary,   be  blowed  1     Wot  'ud 
become  o'  me  and  my  bloomin'  pals,  an'  our  | 
selleries,  an'  cigars,  and  shampain,  if  we 
didn't    'are   no   strikes  1      Gam   an'   stufl 
yerself  I  " 

Decline  to  gam  and  stuff  myself,  but 
take  down  in  note-book  all  I  have  been 
told,  and,  like  Oliver,  "ask  for  more." 
Mr.  B.  waxes  confidential. 

"Look  'ere,  guv'nor,  you  tork  abaht 
eight  hours  I  Wot  I  says  is,  w'y  should 
the  workin'  man  work  for  even  eight 
hours?  Bust  it)  I  arsks  you,  w'y  shoulil 
tin'  worfcin"  man  work  at  all?" 

Feel  so  overpowered  by  this  stupendous 
proposition  that  I  depart  in  silence. 
•  •  *  • 

Have   addressed  my  first   meeting,  and 
returned    whole.      Did   very  well    until   I  . 
came    to   the    "gilded    popinjayt,"    when' 


audience  arose  as  one  man,  and,  amidst 
shouts  of  "What  about  the  Gordon* P" 
made  for  platform.  I  made  for  home,  and 
did  best  on  record  to  hotel.  Splendid  hall 
for  political  speeches ;  such  excellent  pri- 
vate way  from  platform  over  roof*  of 
several  houses  into  side  street.  Shall  avoid 
subject  of  gilded  popinjays  during  rest  of 
electoral  campaign. 

A  PROUD  day  for  Eastbourne,  which  now 
has  the  Duke  of  DEVONSHIRE  for  Mayor. 
Y.ct  does  it  not  suggest  that  the  town  will 
be  submerged  P  Is  it  not  "  Eattbourne- 
sovs-mer  f  " 

Before  the  School  Board  Election. 

Blaster  (to  JOBBER ).  Wot  I  wants  yer 
to  do  on  the  polling  day  U  to  tell  me  where 
to  make  my  mark  on  the  helevated  hedi- 
cation  ticket. 

LATEST  NEWS  FBOM  KLONDIKE. — The  out- 
put of  cold  has  been  unprecedented. 


220 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  13,  1897 


Kiss  Candid.  "  Oh,  Mr.  De  Tiring,  I  was  at 
Home  yesterday  when  you  called ;  hut  you  are 
such  an  awful  Bore,  you  know,  I  was  compelled 
to  send  you  away." 


cha 


Master  Bob.   "  Please,  Ma,  will  you  kindly 
astise  me  f     I  've  heen  at  the  Jam  again  !  " 


Learned  Judge.  "  Before  adjourning  the  Court 
to-day,  I  wish  to  state  that  I  hare  been  guilty  of 
Betting,  at  a  '  Place '  within  the  meaning  of  the 
Act.  I  therefore  fine  myself  a  sum  of  Twenty 
Pounds  and  costs,  coupled  with  a  severe  repri- 
9' 


Of  course,  the  "Automatic  Conscience  Clearer"  for 
minor  offences  would  soon  he  immensely  popular.  We 
beg  to  offer  the  above  suggestion.  N.B.  — The  Inventor 
has  been  provisionally  protected. 


Cabby  (at  police-station).  "  'Ere,  I  've  just 
charged  a  fare  Sixpence  too  much,  and  I  want 
a  summons  out  aginst  meself." 


w 


["A  POLICEMAN'S  CONSCIENCE.— Police-superintendent  fiOBEBTS,  of  Torquay,  has  won  a  splendid  reputation  for  impartiality. 
for   breaches  of  the  law.     The  other  night  while  cycling  home  from  Brixham  his  lamp  went  out,  and  yesterday  he  aj 


l  punishes 

r  -       r  «-   — • yesterday  he  appeared  before  the 

i,  in  response  to  a  summons  issued  by  himself  against  himself.      He  said  a  clergyman  spoke  to  him  on  the  subject,  and  this  brought  the 
offence  to  his  notice.    He  was  fined  5s."— Daily  Telegraph.} 


LETTERS  TO  THE  CELEBRATED. 

No.  II.— To  THE  BIGHT  HON.  JOSEPH  CHAMBERLAIN,  M.P. 

RESPECTED  JOSEPH,— Pray  note  the  humility  with  which  I  open 
upon  you.  To  a  person  of  your  disposition  it  may  seem  pre- 
tumptuous  that  one  who  is  not  even  notus  tibi  nomine  should 
venture  to  address  you.  Blood-curdling  stories  are  told  of  the 
all  but  feminine  anger  with  which  it  is  your  custom  to  visit  the 
most  trivial  offence  to  your  dignity  or  to  the  esteem  in  which  you 
hold  yourself.  "  That  sort  of  thing,"  you  have  been  heard  to 
say,  "I  never  forgive  and  never  forget."  Has  not  your  face 
grown  pale  with  suppressed  fury  while  some  unrepentant  Radical, 
Mr.  ASQTJITH,  let  us  say,  or  Sir  WILLIAM  HARCOUHT,  or  Mr. 
JOHN  MORLEY,  reminded  you  and  his  other  hearers  that  once 
you  too  were  even  as  other  Radicals,  that  yau  taunted  the  aristo- 
cratic non-toilers  and  non-spinners  amongst  whom  you  now 
delight  to  dwell,  and  propounded  to  an  astonished  world  a  doc- 
trine of  ransom  which,  though  you  never  explained  it  even  to 
yourself,  earned  for  you  the  name  and  reputation  of  JACK  CADE  ? 
And  how  your  lips  must  have  tightened  when  minor  Tories, 
whose  tongues  one  might  have  thought  would  be  privileged  by 
contact  with  your  boots,  presumed  to  write  patronising  letters 
about  you  in  the  Times,  pointing  out  that  you  were  not  quite 
so  bad  as  you  were  made  out,  and  that,  after  all,  you  did  make 
yourself  reasonably  useful  to  the  Tories  in  spite  of  your  occasional 
endeavours  to  claim  too  much  for  yourself  and  your  little  knot 
of  hangers-on !  All  these  things  are  dreadful.  And  then  there 
is  Lord  LONDONDERRY.  He  does  not  mention  your  name,  but  he 
trounces  the  Government,  of  which  we  know  you  are  the  spokes- 


man (ominous  word,  not  unconnected  with  the  stoppage  of 
wheels!),  and  with  an  almost  terrifying  audacity  he  abuses  "  My 
Policy  and  "My  Social  Programme."  Where  is  Lord  LONDON- 
DERRY to  languish?  In  what  remote  and  gloomy  dungeon  is 
this  rash  owner  of  collieries  to  drag  out  the  remaining  years  of 
his  miserable  life?  Has  Mr.  JESSE  COLLINGS  yet  selected  foi 
him  the  special  varieties  of  bread  and  water  on  which  he  is  to 
support  existence?  And  that  reminds  me.  Most  of  us  have 
the  JESSE  COLLINGSBS  we  deserve.  But  no  other  JESSE  COLLINGS 
that  I  have  met  ever  displayed  a  faith  so  sincere,  or  a  devotion 
so  touching  as  that  which  your  bland  and  imperturbable  adorer 
lavishes  upon  you.  Why  should  we  vex  our  minds  with  musty 
memories  of  DAMON  and  PYTHIAS,  or  HARMODIUS  and  AHISTOGI- 
TON  ?  To  me,  I  declare,  the  JOSEPH  and  JESSE  of  the  present 
day  are  worth  more  in  their  happy  alliteration  than  all  the  in- 
ferior twin-friends  of  past  ages. 

So  there  are  compensations — of  a  sort.  And  on  the  whole  you 
have  had  a  fairly  successful  year,  not  sufficiently  brilliant,  of 
course,  to  warrant  you  in  imitating  POLTCRATES  by  casting  some 
treasured  object — JESSE,  it  may  be — into  the  sea,  but  quite 
reasonably  successful  for  all  that.  Not  for  nothing  did  the 
Colonial  Premiers  visit  our  jubilating  shores.  Careless  observers 
might  suppose  that  they  were  here  to  do  honour  to  the  QUEEN, 
to  prove  by  their  presence  the  vastness  and  the  freedom  of  hei 
Empire.  I  (and  you)  knew  better.  It  was  to  swell  your  triumph,  my 
dear  JOSEPH,  that  they  turned  their  course  to  England,  and  it 
may  be  added  that  they  and  the  world  at  large  were  not  allowed 
to  forget  the  object  of  their  visit.  Did  the  intoxication  (I  speak 
in  metaphor)  of  all  those  dinners  and  speeches,  and  of  the  art- 


NOVKMBKR  13,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


fully-devised  eulogies  that  these  unsuspecting  Statesmen  lavished 
upon  you  cause  you  to  forget  for  a  moment  that  rugged  old 
Boer  President  who,  whatever  else  may  be  said  against  him. 
proved  himself  more  than  a  match  for  the  dapper  cocksure  chief 
of  our  Colonial  Office?  Was  there  not  a  brand-new  patent 
scheme  of  Home  Rule  for  the  Hand  which  burnt  upon  a  puzzled 
public  after  the  Jameson  Raid  ?  Where  is  it  now  P  And  that 
polite  but  prematurely-published  invitation  to  Mr.  KKCOEB, 
what  has  become  of  it,  and  when,  oh,  when,  is  it  to  be  accepted  P 
And  there  are  still  rude  and  prying  ruffians  who  want  to  know 
about  a  batch  of  telegrams,  and  go  about  declaring  that  you  are 
far  too  clever  and  cunning  to  have  been  so  ignorant  and  so  inno- 
cent as  you  wish  to  be  beueved.  Of  your  declaration  as  to  what 
a  public  man  may  do,  and  yet  maintain  his  honour  unscathed, 
the  less  said  the  better.  Not  often  has  the  House  of  Commons 
listened  to  so  amazing  a  discourse  on  the  ethical  value  of  deceit, 
intrigue  and  evasion. 

Well,  well,  there  are  flies  in  every  politician's  pot  of  ointment, 
and  it  is  fair  to  remember  that,  owing  chiefly  to  your  own  care, 
the  pot  you  possess  is  not  a  small  one,  and  your  ointment  is  of 
the  very  best.  But  be  warned,  my  dear  JOSEPH,  be  warned.  It 
is  not  much,  of  course,  to  have  an  attractive  and  amiable  person- 
ality. Many  men  have  that  who  will  never  make  a  stir  in  the 
world.  And  to  be  modest  or  courteous  will  not  secure  immortal 
fame.  But  a  trace  here  and  there  of  amiability,  of  modesty,  of 
courtesy  to  opponents,  might  possibly  be  useful.  After  all,  you 
did  not  invent  the  British  Empire,  and  some  of  us  had  heard  of 
the  Colonies  before  you  became  their  Secretary  of  State. 

Commend  me  to  Mr.  COLLINOS,  and  believe  me  to  be 

Yours  respectfully,  Tun  VAQ&ANI. 


NEW  LAMPS  FOR  OLD. 

IN  reviewing  a  recently-published  collection  of  "  Nursery 
Rhymes,"  a  daily  paper  remarks  that  "  such  productions  as  these 
must  surely  have  had  their  day."  and  points  out  that  modern 
children  cannot  be  expected  to  find  pleasure  in  such  "  barbarous 
jingles."  While  recognising  the  force  of  this  criticism,  Mr. 
J'uin-li  feels  that  it  would  be  a  pity  if  these  old  stories  were 
entirely  forgotten,  and  he  therefore  recommends  their  re-publica- 
tion in  a  style  more  in  accord  with  the  literary  tastes  of  the  day. 
The  following  tale  may  serve  as  an  example  of  what  the  nursery- 
story  should  be  when  re-written  for  youthful  decadents.  It  is 
entitled : 

NOCTURNE   IN   BLACK-AND-BLUE. 

The  subtle  colour-harmony  was  fading  from  the  Western  sky, 
uul  JACK  awoke  from  his  reverie,  the  material  prose  of  this 
iqunliil  world  resurging  strongly  in  his  inmost  soul.  "Pah,"  he 
exclaimed  to  his  fair  companion.  "  How  vain  is  all  pur  life  I  A 
few  golden  hours  have  we  snatched,  my  JILL  ;  all  this  afternoon 
have  we  been  dead  to  the  world — dead  to  ourselves — free  from  the 
thrall  of  the  insistent  present.  Forgetting  to  analyse  this  com- 
plex transcendent  Ego  that  lures  us  to  despair,  we  have  enjoyed 
a  sensuous,  pagan,  objective  interlude.  In  fact,  we  have  made 
dear,  delightful  mud-pies.  And,  as  a  consequence,  my  hands  are 
not  clean,  and  you,  my  JILL,  have  a  large  lump  of  mud  on  your 
nose.  Let  us" — he  shivered  slightly — "return  to  the  bouse,  to 
the  sordid  environment  of  the  Philistines,  and  let  us  wash." 

JILL  clasped  her  hands,  and  her  voice  trembled  with  passion  aa 
•he  replied,  "  Oh,  not  in  the  house,  JACK,  not  in  the  house  I  Ita 
atmosphere  chokes  me— stifles  me.  Let  us  rather  ascend  to  the 
hill-top,  the  hill-top  sweet  with  the  fresh  fragrance  of  the  breeze, 
and  let  us  thence  bring  down  the  necessary  pail  of  water !  " 

JACK'S  eyes  were  moist  with  tears. 

"  JILL,  forgive  me.  You  are  right — you  are  always  right.  Yes 
we  will  climb  together — always  together.  See,  I  will  hold  you 
tightly  by  the  scruff  of  your  neck — thus — and  run  you  up  in  no 
time.  Nay,  do  not  kick  my  shin.  To  the  hill-top,  where,  per- 
chance, we  shall  find  Mr.  GRANT  ALLEN  and  his  company  of 
heroines— to  the  hill-top,  where  the  pure  fountain  of  translucent 
water  bubbles  forth.  Are  you  ready?  Go!" 

And  with  a  loud  scream  JACK  pushed  the  struggling  JILL  towards 
the  slope,  where  they  vanished  in  the  twilight.  Ever  thus  should 
it  be,  man  and  woman,  boy  and  girl,  climbing  the  hill  of  Fate 

together ! 

...... 

Two  shrieks  ring  through  the  startled  air. 
"  Hold  tight,  you  silly  fool !  " 
"  JACK,  I  'm  falling  I     I  'm  falling  I  " 
A  crash  ;  two  sickening  bumps  on  the  hard  ground,  and  silence. 
...... 

JACK  lay  in  bed.     His  injuries  were  terrible,  and  we  will  now, 


A    TEST    CASE. 

Hairdresser.  "AND  WHAT  CAN  I  DO  FOB  YOU,  MADAM  t" 

Sable  Beauty.    "  I    WANT    MY    HAIK    WATED    FASHIONABLY,    IF    YOU 
PLEASE ! " 


in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  true  realism,  describe  each  of  his 
wounds  in  detail  .  ...  (It  seems  well  to  omit  a  lengthy  para- 
graph  here.)  Around  his  head  was  paper,  paper  sombre,  darkly- 
brown  in  hue.  The  air  was  redolent  of  some  mystic,  subtle 
fragrance,  unspeakably  searching  and  strange — the  smell,  in  fact, 
of  vinegar. 

"  My  world  is  dark !  "  sobbed  the  poor  sufferer.  "  For  one  brief 
moment  I  saw  stars,  gracious,  golden,  gleaming  stars,  and  then 
the  same  eternal  .greynessl  We  have  failed,  JILL  and  I,  we  hare 
failed." 

"  Nay,"  cried  the  dauntless  JILL,  whose  bandaged  face  reposed 
upon  the  pillow  of  the  adjoining  cot,  "say  not  so,  my  JACK. 
Hereafter  once  again  shall  we  seek  the  hill,  once  again  shall  we 


I  1 '•  I  f:t  1  '  <  1    <IIM  >•    .iLi.nii  email    "'     -t-t-r\    '  u>-    in.    ,    im. 

climb  its  terrifying  height — and  then — and  then- 

Her  voice  faltered.     Some  soot  fell  down  the  chimney, 
clock  on  the  mantelpiece  struck.     It  was  midnight. 


The 


An  Egyptian  Difficulty. 

Anxious  Inquirer  (to  flippant  friend).  I  say,  what  is  the  Sirdar 
in  Egypt  P 

flippant  Friend.  My  dear  fellow,  I  never  heard  an  ab-sirdar 
question. [Exit. 

QUERIES  AND  NOTKS.— What  would  be  an  excellent  name  for  a 
Derby  winner  to  be  bestowed  on  him  after  he  has  won  P  As  to 
names,  of  course  he  had  one  btfort  he  won,  but  afterwards,  why 
not  change  it  to  Asbestos,  since  of  all  the  starters  he  will  have 
genuinely  come  out  as  best  'oss  f 

CORRECT  MOTTO  FOB  THE  EASY  SHAVEB.— Nothing  like  lather! 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [NOVEMBKH  13,  1897. 


The  Rector's  Wife.  "JusT  SEE  HOW  SHAMEFULLY  THAT  Miss  DASHWOOD  is  FLIRTINU  OVER  THEREWITH  THAT  INDIAN  GENTLEMAN!" 
The  Major.  "AH  !    SHE  EVIDENTLY  BELIEVES  IN  THE  'FORWARD  POLICY'  !" 


DARBY  JONES  ON  THE  LIVERPOOL  CUP. 

HONOURED  SIR, — Full  of  honours  as  a 
Field-Marshal  at  the  conclusion  of  Success- 
ful Warfare,  I  nevertheless  rouse  myself 
from  the  Apathy  which  invariably  besets 
a  Turf  Sybarite,  who  has  provided  himself 
with  some  eider-down  quilts  and  cases  of 
tawny  port  for  the  Winter.  I  think,  Sir, 
that  you,  with  that  acumen  for  which  you 
are  renowned  from  the  North  Pole  to 
Tasmania,  and  even  further,  will  acknow- 
ledge that  in  presenting  St.  Cloud  to  your 
notice  and  that  of  your  readers  for  that 
classic  event  the  Cambridgeshire  Handicap, 
I  did  not  err  far  from  the  spot,  which  is 
not  barred  on  the  turf.  We  must  not, 
however,  depreciate  Sir  WILLIAM  INOKAM'K 
victory,  the  news  of  which  illustrated  his 
confidence  in  his  trainer. 

But  now,  honoured  Sir,  let  us  to  the 
future,  not  the  past.  Poor  as  I  am  in 
poesy,  faulty  as  I  am  in  rhyme,  I  never- 
theless again  venture  to  bound  on  the 
mount  Parnassus,  carrying,  as  1  fully  be- 
lieve, the  name  of  the  hero  of  the  Autumn 
Event  associated  with  the  whilom  haunt  of 
that  apparently  extinct  waterfowl,  the 
picturesque  Liver.  Indeed,  anyone  send- 
ing me  a  Live  Liver  will  be  amply  re- 
warded. (This  in  parenthesis  while  the 
Muse  is  getting  up  steam.)  Here  goes, 
after  a  peaceful  and  bardlike  slumber  :  — 


For  me  one,  two,  three, 

Is  the  Man  of  the  Sea, 
But  beware  of  the  Fowl  of  the  Stream. 

And  the  Grtfit  of  the  Sward 

In  the  judge's  award 
Has  run  close  with  the  Duke's  in  my  dream. 

On  the  Maid  who  can  laugh 
Have  an  eye  for  a  place, 

But  through  folly  and  chaff 
"Tis  the  Jersey  man's  race ! 

Such,  honoured  Sir,  is  my  unbiassed 
opinion,  strengthened  by  what  Little 
Acumen  I  have  derived  from  sharpening 
my  brains  on  the  Noddles  of  more  respect- 
able citizens.  Trusting  that  you  are  pro- 
fiting by  my  Insight  into  the  Ways  of 
Owners,  Horses,  and,  may  I  add,  Jockeys 
plus  Trainers,  I  beg  to  remain, 

Always,  honoured  Sir, 
Your  devoted  running  footman  and 
peripatetic  prophet,     DARBY  JONBS. 


RESTFUL. — "The  Benin  City  of  to-day," 
wrote  the  Times  correspondent,  "  is  now  a 
city  of  Peace."  It  might  be  the  Benign 
City.  We  've  Be(e)n-in  and  we  're  not 
coming  out  again. 

"  TRUE  TIME." — Professor  JOHN  MILNE 
has  been  issuing  circulars  inquiring  as  to  the 
exact  time  of  day  everywhere.  What  a  sharp 
chap  the  Professor  will  become  I  Wherever 
he  goes  he  '11  "  know  what  o'clock  it  is ! " 


A  SLIGHT  DIFFERENCE. 

[Judge  VAN  WYCK,  the  newly-elected  Mayor  of 
New  York,  "has  no  history.  The  most  notable 
incident  in  his  career  is  his  success  at  a  feeding 
competition." — Daily  Chronicle,  Nov.  3, 1897.] 

CONGRATULATIONS  to  New  York  I 

She  has  achieved  her  proud  ambition — 

A  Mayor  who  plies  stout  knife  and  fork, 
Who 's  won  a  feeding  competition  I 

Now  let  her  pile  for  him  the  feast, 
Course  after  course,  in  her  elation ! 

She  won't,  in  this  respect,  at  least, 
Excel  our  ancient  Corporation. 

Our  Lord  Mayor's  guests  are  all  agreed 
That  holders  of  that  proud  position 

Know  just  as  well  the  way  to  "  feed  " — 
Albeit  "  not  for  competition  "  I 


CHANGE  OP  NAME. — Mr.  DAVID  P.  SELLAR 
(whose  name  a  snuffling  person  might  pro- 
nounce Mr.  Pea-Sheller,  but  very  far  from 
being  a  green  pea-sheller) ,  who  has  offered 
to  give  two  hundred  pictures,  his  "Old 
Dutch,"  Italian  and  English,  to  the  nation, 
should  the  President  of  the  R.  A.  and  council 
approve,  will  be  remembered  as  Mr.  D.  P. 
"  DONOR,"  not  "SELLAH."  Surely,  if  the 
pictures  be  genuine,  they  are  better  re- 
moved from  a  "cellar,"  and  placed  in  the 
best  light  possible. 


PUNCH,    OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— NOVBMBICK   13,   1897. 


THE   TAMMANY  TERRAPIN   AND   THE   CITY  TURTLE. 

TAMMANY  TURTLE.  "  WA-AL,  BROTHER  TURTLE,  WE  'BE  IN  TOGETHER.  WE'LL  MAKE  A  GOOD 
THING  OF  IT  FOR  OURSELVES—  AND  FRIENDS.  EH'r" 

CITY  TURTLE.  "SPEAK  FOR  YOURSELF,  BROTHER  TERRAPIN.  OVER  HKRE  WE'VE  AN  OLD- 
WORLD  PREJUDICE  IN  FAVOUR  OF  HONESTY." 


NOVEMBER  13  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


225 


'••'1/11 


ON    THE    WAY   TO    COVERT. 

f  Perks  (immensely  pleased  with  his  new  Atouiti).  "PICKBD.'HIM  UP  BY 
AUCTION  FOR  A  HIKE  BONO.  SAID  TO  BE  WONDERFUL  JUMPER — IN 
FACT,  NOTIIINU  STOPS  HIM  I  " 


(Unhappy  Thought.)  NOT  BVIN  BRIDLI  1 


TOBY,  M.P.'S  PARLIAMENTARY  GUIDE. 

II. 

Slack  Hod. — This  is  a  high  functionary 
of  the  other  House.  From  time  to  time 
h«  visits  the  Commons,  bearer  of  a  message 
•ununoning  the  hon.  House  to  hear  the 
Royal  Assent  given  to  certain  Bills.  Usage 
requires  that  Black  Rod  ihould  walk  slowly 
up  to  the  Table,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
Speaker  with  cataleptic  stare.  Thrice  he 
bows,  and  pulling  short  up  at  the  Table, 
delivers  his  message — if  he  can  remember 
it.  This  done,  he  retires  backwards,  bow- 
ing as  before.  For  a  Member  of  ready 
wit,  here  it  an  opening  for  sport.  If  he 
can  quietly  approach  Black  Rod  whilst  he 
stands  at  the  Table,  and  furtively  thrust 
a  pin  into  his  black  silk-stockinged  calf. 
Black  Rod's  consequent  movement!  lead 
to  some  merriment. 

This  device,  once  popular,  fell  into  dis- 
repute in  the  case  of  a  functionary  now  no 
more.  He  was  noted  for  the  shapeliness  of 
his  legs,  the  calves  perhaps  erring  a  little 
in  the  direction  of  fulness  of  curve.  One 


'  Black  Rod." 


day,  a  frolicsome  Member,  getting  into 
position,  used  a  pin  with  skill  and  force. 
Black  Rod  took  no  notice ;  went  on  with 
his  message  as  if  nothing  was  the  Blatter. 
Which  seemed  uncanny. 
A  more  popular  proceeding  in  later  Par- 


"  The  Speaker  take*  the  Chair." 

liameuts  ha*  been  for  a  Member,  timing 
the  return  journey  (backwards  as  afore- 
said) of  Black  Rod,  to  lie  prone  in  his 
pathway.  That  never  fails  to  bring  down 
the  House  as  well  as  Black  Rod.  The  new 
Member,  anxious  to  make  his  mark,  should 
take  the  earliest  opportunity  of  achieving 
this  feat. 

The  Speaker  taket  the  Chair.—  This 
phrase,  familiar  through  the  Session, 
flashes  an  interesting  light  on  ancient 
Parliamentary  customs.  In  the  childhood 
of  the  Mother  of  Parliaments,  the  Chair 
was  (so  to  speak)  the  Speaker's  perquisite. 
At  the  close  of  each  Session,  the  right  hon. 
gentleman,  lifting  the  Chair  on  his  head, 
walked  out  of  the  House,  and  BO  home, 


literally  "  taking  the  Chair."  Other  time*, 
other  manners.  Mr.  ABBOT,  afterwards 
Lord  COLCHXSTKR.  the  Speaker  in  office 
when  first  PITT,  then  Fox,  died,  was,  tk« 
Member  for  Sark  tells  me.  the  last  per- 
sonal appropriator  of  the  Chair. 

The  difficulty  about  vested  rights  tad 
all  that  is  got  over  by  the  device  of  a 
counter-proposition.  When,  before  the 
new  custom  was  firmly  established,  dispo- 
sition was  shown  by  the  Speaker  to  hoist 
the  Chair  and  walk  off  with  it,  a  resolution 
was  promptly  submitted  that  "  the  Speaker 
do  now  leave  the  Chair."  The  occasion  for 
this  formula  does  not  now  exist.  The  his- 
tory of  its  inception  is  probably  forgotten. 
But  it  is  in  use  to  this  day. 

Moving  the  Speaker  out  of  the  Chair. — 
This  is  a  very  pretty  performance.  When 
well  played  on  both  sides,  it  is  even 
hilarious.  The  occasion  arises  when  the 
Speaker,  either  from  a  sense  of  public  duty 
or  from  pure  cussedneos  (the  word  is  here 
used  in  its  Parliamentary  sense),  declines 


'  Moving  the  Speaker  out  of  the  Chair." 


226 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOTEMBER    13,    1897. 


THE    OFFICIAL    GUIDE    TO    CEREMONIALS    OF   THE    CITY    OF    LONDON. 

(Most  Unceremoniously  Illustrated.) 


to  go  home  and  let  others  go.  Then  you 
shall  see  Members,  quietly  gathering  from 
both  sides,  suddenly,  at  a  signal,  swarm 
down  upon  the  Chair,  and  elbow  the 
Speaker  out. 

OF  what  beverage  does  the  melancholy 
cry  of  a  dog  with  a  regulation  strap  over 
hia  nose  remind  you?  The  Moselwein 
[Muzzle-whine] . 


Light    Reading. 

Problem. — If  you  had  a  lamp  weighing 
twenty  pounds,  why  would  it  be  a  very 
great  convenience  and  a  saying  of  consider- 
able trouble  to  keep  it  invariably  quite 
close  to  another  lamp  weighing  fifteen 
pounds  ? 

Solution. — Because  the  lamp  weighing 
twenty  pounds  would  then  always  be  next 
to  a  lamp-lighter. 


G-G'g  WHO   ALWAYS  WlN    ON  THE   INDIAN 

FRONTIER  COURSE. — The  Glorious  Gordon 
Highlanders  and  the  Gallant  little  Goor- 
khas.  Mr.  Punch  doffs  his  hat  to  these 
noble  soldiers  of  the  QUEEN-EMPRESS,  and 
hopes  they  will  always  be  in  the  front  tier 
when  a  military  drama  is  being  played  in 
Hiudostan. 

STNONYM  FOB  A  WAITBB. — "A  Plate-layer." 


NOVEMBER  13,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


227 


COMIN'  THBO'  THE  ROMANY  RYE. 

[The  Daily  Chronitb,  reviewing  Mr.  THBOUOKK 
WATTB-DUNTON'S  poem,  The  Coming  of  Lnvt,  re- 
marks: "  fh«  Romany  idiom  possesses  an  immense 
HiiTaiitftge  over  our  poor,  every -day  Knglish, ,  in  offer- 
ing at  least  two  new  rhymes  lor  'love,' — 'tuv' 
(smoke)  and  'puv'  (a  neld).  These  are  priceless 
HdditionB  1o  the  meagre  Saxon  stock — '  dove,' 
'glove,'  'above,'  and  the impossible  'shove.'"  The 
reviewerdoes  scant  justice  toMr.  WATTS-UCNTON'S 
liberal  ear,  which  allows  him,  in  this  volume,  to 
employ  "cove,"  "move,"  "grove,"  "approve," 
and  "rove,"  to  rhyme  with  this  same  sound  of 
"love."] 
IT  is  the  massive  gipsy-maid ! 

I  think  I  recognise  my  Luv  ; 
Hither  she  walks  ;  I  see  her  wade 
Across  the  sodden  turnip-puv* ; 
O  Luv,  my  Luvl 

The  lark  is  tootling  in  the  sky, 
Coos  in  his  cot  the  wedded  duv  ; 

Then  wherefore  should  not  you  and  I 
<;:nnbol  like  rabbits  in  the  gruv? 
O  Luv,  my  Luvl 

Come,  let  us  fly  the  wicked  world, 
And  all  the  simpler  pleasures  pruv, 

For  life 's  a  vapour  thinly  curled, 
And  human  glory  ends  in  tuv,t 
O  Luv,  my  Luvl 

By  stilly  ponds  and  stagnant  meres 
In  solemn  silence  we  will  muv, 

Or  whisper  down  each  other's  ears 

The  trifles  we  are  thinking  uv, 

O  Luv,  my  Luvl 

Or  let  us  from  the  ocean's  marge 
Out  in  an  open  wherry  shuv, 

And  when  the  moon  is  fairly  large 
Perambulate  a  sandy  cuv, 
O  Luv,  my  Luvl 

Or.  where  the  sheathed  filbert  shoots, 
Your  dusky  hands  that  scorn  a  gluv 

Shall  pluck  and  pass  me  fairer  fruits 
Than  tooth  of  ADAM  ever  cluv, 
O  Luv,  my  Luvl 

And  if,  in  case  of  cold  or  rain, 
We  cannot  comfortably  ruv, 

We'll  twine  our  noses  on  the  pane, 

Or  stew  beside  the  peety  stuv, 

O  Luv,  my  Luvl 

Such  dreams,  so  roseate  and  warm 

My  free,  erotic  fancy  wuv, 
When  first  your  fine  and  ample  form 

Upon  my  swooning  vision  huv, 
O  Luv,  my  Luvl 

You  're  not,  I  grant  you,  free  from  fault  ; 

Your  grammar  one  might  well  impruv  ; 
Your  brow  is  tanned  a  rich  cobalt ; 

But  still  you  are  a  treasure-truv  I 
O  Luv,  my  Luvl 

And  with  a  creature  like  my  Own, 
As  tentatively  sketched  abuv, 

Oft  have  I  heard  (though  never  known) 
Of  poets  who  serenely  thruv, 
O  Luv,  my  Luv ! 

Then  let  us  fly  the  wicked  world, 

And  take  our  chance  alone  with  luv  ; 
For  life  's  a  vapour  thinly  curled, 
And  all  ambitions  end  in  tuv,t 

Mere  tuv.t  my  Luv  I 
»  Field.  t  Srnok*. 


IN  THE  MATTER  OF  A  POINTLESS 
ANECDOTE. 

ON  the  appointment  of  one  of  our  latest 
judges,  an  amusing  anecdote  was  told, 
illustrating  the  occasionally  strained  rela- 
tions existing  between  Bench  and  Bar.  The 
Q.  C.  one  day,  finding  his  Lordship  had 
not  arrived  punctually  to  time,  employed 


Winny  (om  mile  an  hour)  to  Annie  (tiro  miles  an  hour).  "  SCORCHER  I  " 


the  pause  in  attending  to  some  other  busi-  j 
ness  in  an  adjacent  Court.  On  his  return 
to  the  original  Court,  he  was  greeted  with 
the  announcement  from  the  Bench  that 
h  >  had  kept  his  Lordship  waiting  for  five 
minutes.  "Indeed,"  retorted  the  Q.  C., 
wittily.  "  Why,  you  kept  me  waiting  five 
and  twenty  1  " 

The  success  of  this  pointed  repartee  has 
encouraged,  we  believe,  a  well-known  firm 
of  publishers  to  issue  a  volume  of  Profes- 
sional Anecdotes,  containing  gems  of  equal 
purity.  We  give  a  few  stories  that  may 
serve  as  specimens. 

A  Field-Marshal,  dining  at  the  mess  of  a 
line  battalion,  asked  the  Colonel  to  hurry 
the  waiters  up,  as  he  wanted  to  catch  a 
train.  The  proceedings,  however,  were  of 
the  usual  leisurely  character,  and  the 
officer  was  thwarted  in  his  endeavour. 
"  You  might  have  made  them  smarter, 
Colonel,"  said  the  guest.  "Utterly  it.i- 
possible,"  returned  the  host.  "  You  see, 
we  had  not  finished  our  dinner." 

An  Archbishop,  who  had  to  preach  »t  a 


country  church,  was  much  annoyed  by  the 
arrival  of  the  curate  (who  had  to  read  the 
prayers)  ten  minutes  late.  "  I  really  think 
you  might  have  kept  to  time,"  said  the 
Archbishop.  "  Very  sorry,  your  Grace." 
returned  the  other,  "but  it  was  so  hot  I 

At  a  consultation  of  eminent  specialists 
some  delay  was  caused  by  the  tardy  arrival 
of  a  country  practitioner  who  had  to  meet 
them.  "  I  suppose  your  train  was  late," 
suggested  the  Senior  Medical  Baronet. 
"No,"  repliad  the  provincial  surgeon,  "I 
was  only  lazy !  " 

The  Court  of  Appeal,  upon  calling  upon 
an  eminent  Q.  C.  to  address  them,  found 
that  he  was  mm  ett.  The  fact  had  scarcely 
been  ascertained  before  the  silk  entered. 
"  We  have  been  waiting  for  you  for  the  last 
forty  minutes,"  said  the  Master  of  the 
Rolfs.  "Indeed,"  exclaimed  the  Q.  C. 
"  Dear  me,  while  you  were  sitting  here,  I 
was  putting  on  my  wig !  " 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  above  ipecimens 
that  the  work — when  published — will  be 
deeply  interesting. 


228 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  13,  1897. 


PAINFUL    INSINUATION. 


Butcher.  ••  FoRSigs  MEAT,   MADAM?    I'M  SURE   YOU  I>ONT  SUP- 
POSE  ME   CAPABLE   OF    SERVING    MY    CUSTOMKRS  WITH  ANYTHING    BUT 

THE  BEST  'OME  MEAT  ! " 

foung  Housekeeper.   "  OH,    I  DON'T    MEAN  TO    SAY  YOU  Kirsw   IT 
WAS  FOREIGN,  BUT  I  no  THINK  THEY  HAVE  TAKEN  ADVANTAGE  OF 

YOU   AT  THE   MARKET  !  " 


OUR   BOOKING-OFFICE. 

PLEASANTLY  chatty,  interesting,  and  amusing,  are  Mr.  FITZ- 
GERALD MOLLOY'S  two  volumes,  entitled,  The  Romance  of  the 
Irish  Stage.  Mr.  MOLLOY  reminds  us  of  many  old  stories, 
and  as  good  old  friends,  they  are  most  welcome,  especially 
as  he  appropriately  fits  them  up  with  well-known  names,  and 
cleverly  localises  them.  But  of  all  reminiscences,  those  concern- 
ing PEG  WOFFINGTON  (whose  biographer  some  little  time  ago  was 
Mr.  MOLLOY)  are  the  most  interesting,  though  occupying  but  a 
small  space  in  the  two  volumes.  Hard  drinking,  ready  fighting, 
horse-play,  reckless  gambling,  and  a  general  happy-go-luckiness 
were  the  characteristics  of  tip-top  Irish  Society  a  hundred  and  fifty 
years  ago.  But  what  wonderful  salaries  in  those  days  did  not 
the  light  and  leading  comedians  receive!!  Three  guineas  a  week 
was  apparently  a  tip-top  price  for  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude, 
who  relied  on  his  benefit  to  give  him  such  a  handsome 
sum  as  might  be  represented  by  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
clear!  It  is  published  by  Messrs.  DOWNEY  &  Co.,  and  there  is 
a  good  photographic  reproduction  of  ROMNEY'S  Mrs.  JORDAN  and 
Sir  JOSHUA'S  Mrs.  ABINGTON. 

Another  batch  of  books,  redolent  of  the  festive  season,  lie 
waiting  inspection.  The  newest  and  neatest  volume  is  one  of 
the  Dumpy  Series,"  a  delightful  collection  of  short 
stories  by  E.  V.  LTJCAS  (GRANT  RICHARDS),  beginning  with  The 
Flamp.  Now,  The  Flamp  requires  explanation.  He  is  a  some- 
what strange  animal  belonging  to  "the  brillig  and  slithy  goves  " 
of  nursery  literature  with  a  morbid  desire  for  sympathy.  His 


claims  are  original,  yet  they  suggest  some  distinct  relationship 
to  the  Mock  Turtle.  Still,  he  is  amusing  in  his  quaintness. 

Song  Flowers,  from  a  Child's  Garden  of  Ferses  (GARDNER  & 
Co.),  by  ROBERT  Louis  STEVENSON.  An  exquisite  little  nose- 
gay. The  melody  of  the  music  by  KATHARINE  M.  RAMSAY 
suits  their  freshness,  and  the  drawings  by  GORDON  BROWNE  re- 
veal the  story  of  each  song.  S.  R.  CROCKETT  deemed  them  worthy 
a  touching  introduction.  A  charming  gift  this  hook  will  make. 

Mrs.  MOLESWORTH,  in  Hoodie  (W.  AND  R.  CHAMBERS),  tells  of  a 
little  girl  who,  "  when  she  was  good  was  wery,  wery  good,  and 
when  she  was  naughty  was  "orrid"  ;  and  the  fascinating  culture  of 
horridness,  which  appeals  to  most  infantile  brains,  predominated 
in  this  child  of  the  nursery.  The  pathos  of  a  gentle  illness,  with 
its  accompaniment  of  nasty  physic,  restored  her  moral  equili- 
brium.   THE  BARON  DE  B.-W. 

DR.  LECHER'S  SPEECH. 

[The  other  day,  Dr.  LECHER  spoke  in  the  Austrian  Reirhsrath  for  12  hours.] 

O  WILHELM,  by  no  means  the  Silent,  look  out, 

Here  's  somebody  far  more  loquacious  than  you ! 
A  speech  of  twelve  hours,  a  record,  no  doubt, 

Is  more  than  your  Majesty  even  could  do. 
Unhappily,  LECHER,  though  German  in  race, 

Lives  not  where  the  regis  voluntas  is  law, 
Or  else  his  lese-majeste  soon  would  efface 

A  traitor  who  rivalled  his  sovereign's  "  jaw." 
Vienna  is  ruled  in  a  different  way, 

And  dignified  silence  the  KAISER  might  teach 
To  you,  and  to  others  with  plenty  to  say  ; 

The  Deputies  there  are  the  experts  in  speech. 

But  do  not  be  downcast,  though  LECHER  must  be 
The  mightiest  speaker  this  planet  has  heard, 

With  suitable  training  you  're  better  than  he, 

And  able  to  have — fitting  phrase — the  last  word. 

Just  visit,  incognito,  London  some  day, 
And  practise  with  all  the  professors  of  jaw  ; 

We  also  have  people  with  too  much  to  say, 
Connected  with  politics,  mostly,  or  law. 

Talk  with  them  incessantly,  morning  and  night, 
Talk  sense  or  talk  nonsense,  talk  slowly  or  fast ; 

Such  excellent  training  will  make  you  all  right, 
Your  jaw  will  be  stronger  than  LECHER'S  at  last. 

Then  challenge  your  rival  to  combat  of  tongues, 
For  twenty-four  hours  hold  forth,  might  and  main  ; 

You  'II  beat  him  in  spite  of  his  powerful  lungs, 
And  you  '11  be  the  Champion  Speaker  again. 

THE   NEW   GAME  OF   DOMESTIC   SERVICE. 

(Suggested  by  the  Advertisements  in  a  Religious  Periodical. ) 
SCENE — A  Parlour.        PRESENT — Three  Enterprising  Females. 

First  Enterprising  Female.  What  a  capital  idea  it  was  to  adver- 
tise in  a  clerical  paper  for  "  two  young  ladies  to  try  being  cook 
and  house-parlour-maid  for  £14  and  £12  a  year." 

Second  E.  F.  Yes ;  and  to  explain  that  "  daughters  of  clergy- 
men would  be  preferred."  Shall  we  see  how  they  are  getting  on  ? 

Third  E.  F.  Why  not.  We  must  keep  them  up  to  their  work. 
More  especially  as  we  promised  them  "a  quiet  place."  The 
labour  ought  to  keep  them  silent,  if  nothing  else  does. 

Mary  (entering  on  a  bell  summons).  Yes,  ladies? 

First  E.  F.  Have  you  cleaned  the  kitchen  chimney  ? 

Mary.  Yes,  madam  ;  and  as  I  was  about  it,  did  the  others,  too. 

Second  E.  F.  Quite  right.  And  you  (turning  to  JANE,  who  has 
entered),  did  you  sweep  down  the  stairs,  wash  the  steps,  do  the 
rooms  and  mend  the  linen  ? 

Jane.  Yes,  madam  ;  and  as  I  thought  you  might  like  to  see 
them  clean,  washed  all  the  windows. 

First  E.  F.  And  of  course  you  have  done  all  the  ordinary 
house  work. 

Mary  and  Jane  (together).  Yes,  madam. 

first  E.  F.  Do  you  want  to  know  anything  further? 

Mary.  Well,  madam,  you  say  we  are  playing  a  game.  How 
is  it  going  ? 

Second  E.  F.  Very  well  indeed.  You  seo,  we  are  getting 
servants  of  gentle  birth — who  shrink  from  complaining — to  do 
double  the  ordinary  work  for  half  the  customary  wages. 

Mary  and  Jane  (together).  And  what  does  that  count? 

Three  E.  F.  (together).  Why,  one  to  us,  to  be  sure! 

[Scene  clo-es  in  upon  the  discovery. 


NOVEMBER  20,   1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


399 


VOCATION   MISSED. 


Mr.  Brown.   "  LOOK  HKRK,  MARIA.     LOOK  AT  THE  YOUNO  LADY'S  LIGHT  TOUCH  ! ' 
Mrs.  firoivn.  "  EH  1    WHAT  A  HAND  FOR  PASTRY  ! !  " 


OUR   BOOKING-OFFICE. 

ON  the  cover,  a  maiden  in  a  sad  violet-coloured  gown,  trying 
to  catch  a  wild  deluge  of  green  shamrocks,  is  no  surprising  pre- 
paration for  a  story  of  the  "distressful  counthry."  This  figure  on 
the  outside  is  transformed  inside  to  A  Daughter  of  Erin,  by 
VIOLET  FINNY.  It  is  a  romantic  tale  of  a  family  "  of  no  import- 
ance," except  that  they  possess  a  banshee — the  one  great  hall- 
mark of  genuine  Celtic  respectability,  and  without  which  no 
house  is  considered  complete.  (  HI.ACKIK  &  SON.) 

The  History  of  the  Horn  Book,  by  ANDREW  W.  TUBR,  F.S.A. 
(Leadenhall  Press),  gives  the  start  and  decline  of  the  handy  form 
of  primer  from  which  our  forefathers  learnt  their  ABC, 
in  the  days  when  education  was  not  a  matter  of  compulsion. 
According  to  learned  research,  the  Horn  Book  occasionally 
served  other  purposes,  such  as  a  battledore  or  even  bat ;  whilst 
it  became  a  seductive  instrument  in  a  teacher's  hand  wherewith 
to  impress  its  contents  on  some  hard-headed  youth.  Its  subtle 
handiness  was  not  at  such  moments  highly  appreciated  by  the 
pupil.  With  graceful  allusion  to  Mr.  Punch's  advice  on  a  former 
occasion,  the  author  has  inserted  two  or  three  specimens  of  the 
Horn  Book  in  a  pocket  at  the  end  of  the  book.  That  the  names 
of  I..INLEY  SAMBOURNE,  PHIL  MAT,  PERCY  MACQUOID,  Miss  MAUDE 
SAMBOURNE  are  among  the  many  illustrators,  speaks  volumes  for 
the  book. 

Mr.  J.  HUNTI.Y  MCCARTHY  has  added  two  volumes  to  his  story 
of  The  French  Revolution  (CHATTO  AND  WINDUS).  The  under- 
taking of  such  a  task  in  view  of  the  imposing  array  of  standard 
works  on  the  subject  indicates  a  bold  spirit.  VVith  all  its  proved 
inaccuracy,  CARLYLE'S  French  Revolution  still  fills  the  bills. 
Mr.  MCCARTHY,  though  not  quite  so  picturesque  in  style,  is  safer 
than  the  Sage  on  matters  or  fact.  Reading  between  the  lines 
of  his  work,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  he  has  spared  no  pains  in  the 
way  of  consulting  authorities.  As  the  last  gleaner  in  a  well- 
swept  field,  he  has  the  advantage  of  profiting  by  the  labours 
of  those  who  have  gone  before  him  since  CUU.TI.E  brought  out 
his  brimful  basket.  His  literary  art  is  equal  to  the  most  exacting 
demands.  In  particular,  it  might  be  imagined  that  a  still  young 
author  would  shrink  from  telling  over  again  the  story  of  the 
Flight  to  Varennes.  Mr.  MCCARTHY  is  not  in  that  mood,  and  for 


breathless  interest  the  chapter  need  not  fear  comparison  with 
OARI.YLE'S  famous  and  flaming  picture. 

By  the  way,  the  Baron  is  informed,  that  in  a  recent  review  he 
twice  misspelt  Mr.  QUILLKR  COUCH'S  name  and  called  him 
"Crouch."  Very  hospitable  of  the  Baron  to  give  him  a  liquid, 
and  here  's  Mr.  QUILLER  COUCH'S  health !  But  how  much  better 
to  be  "  CROUCH  "  than  "  COUCH,"  as  the  latter  name  implies  an 
article  only  intended  to  be  sat  upon.  Une  foit  encore  A  votre 
xantt,  Monsieur  Canape !  So  far,  so  good  I 

The  Political  Life  of  the  Sight  Hon.  W.  E.  Gladstone,  illus- 
trated from  Punch  (BRADBURY,  AONEW  A  Co.),  brought  up  to 
within  measurable  distance  of  its  conclusion  by  the  late  Mr.  E. 
J.  Mi  i.i.i  KEN,  and  now  finished  by  Mr.  H.  W.  LUCY,  must  be  to 
every  Englishman,  no  matter  to  what  political  party  he  may 
belong,  or  to  the  philosophic  spectator  holding  aloof  from  all 
political  parties,  and  considering  them,  as  did  the  heathen  philoso- 
pher of  old,  "all  equally  right  or  all  equally  wrong,"  a  work  of 
absorbing  interest.  These  three  volumes  are  a  moat  valuable 
contribution  to  the  political  history  of  our  time.  The  illustra- 
tions, by  the  artists  of  Mr.  Punch  i  staff,  headed  by  Sir  JOHN 
TENNIEL,  give  us  the  chief  characters  among  the  dramatit  persona 
in  the  many  and  varied  epoch-making  situations  that  have 
occurred  during  the  run  of  the  great  political  drama  in  which  Mr. 
GLADSTONE  played  the  principal  role.  Tar.  BARON  DE  B.-W. 

P.S. — It  was  a  "  Happy  Thought "  of  Mr.  JOHN  LATBT'B  to  turn 
Klondyke  into  a  little  Christmas  Gold-mine  for  himself  and  his 
companions  in  the  Golden  Number  of  the  Penny  Illustrated  Paper, 
though  what  connection  there  is  between  Klondyke  and  a  "  Hunt 
Breakfast "  as  represented  in  the  large  coloured  picture  where 
those  indispensable  members  of  a  hunt,  namely,  foxes,  male  and 
female,  are  all  enjoying  themselves  together,  it  is  at  first  sight 
not  a  little  difficult  to  say.  Perhaps  these  sly  foxes  are  discussing 
whether  it  wouldn't  be  better  to  be  off  to  Klondyke  before  the 
Winter  is  over,  the  discussion  having  been  started  by  the  Star 
of  Klondyke,  the  title  of  Mr.  LATBY'S  Christmas  Number  afore- 
said, now  brought  under  their  notice.  Artists  and  authors  have 
made  the  Star  of  Klondyke  a  real  brilliancy,  or  'twould  be 
better  to  say,  "  transparency,"  as  no  doubt  everybody  will  get 
it,  and  look  through  it. 


VOL.    CX1II. 


230 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  20,  1897. 


NOVEMBBB  20,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


•231 


THE  REMOTE  NIGHT-GOWN. 

[Sir  H.  H.  Jc  HNSTON,  in  his  "Hints in  to  Drew 
for  British  Central  Africa,"  lays,  unent  night- 
gown*, "  I  brlicvH  these  inderent  monstrosities 
linger  in  remote  part*  of  England,  but  they  have 
long  since  been  banished  from  the  life  of  Kuropeans 
in  the  Tropics."] 

WHBN  condemning  our  night-gowns, 
And  calling  them  fright  gown*, 

Sir  H.  makes  a  grave  accusation ; 
For  these  very  same  white  gowns, 
Although  they  are  light  gowns, 

Do  not  merit  his  hard  imputation, 
Since  for  ages  they  've  been 
Just  the  garments  unseen 

By  any  known  African  nation. 
Though  in  countries  remote — 
Such  as  England — they  vote 

For  this  monstrous  "undressification," 
And  from  England,  let  '*  say,  to  Bombay 

or  Bahamas, 

The  night-robe  in  case  holda  its  own  with 
pyjamas  I 


THE  BITTER  CRY  OF  THE  ESQUIRES. 

IN  pursuance  of  the  address  which  wa - 
communicated  on  November  12  to  the 
Baronets  of  England,  Ireland,  Scotland, 
Great  Britain  and  the  United  Kingdom, 
by  an  influential  committee  of  that 
Honourable  Order,  it  is  understood  that  a 
circular  is  being  drawn  up  to  the  following 
effect  by  the  long-suffering  and  down- 
trodden holders  of  the  ancient,  but  now 
misused,  title  of  "  Esquire  "  :  — 

We,  the  members  of  "  The  Senior  Com- 
mittee of  the  Estimable  Order  of  Esquires," 
being  of  opinion  that  an  occasion  has  now 
arrived  when  suitable  preliminary  steps 
may  be  taken  with  a  view  to  establish  and 
maintain  the  privileges  of  the  Order,  do 
invite  as  many  other  esquires  a*  possible 
to  join  in  the  aims  as  here  summarised, 
for  example  :  — 

1.  To  revive  the  Royal  Warrant  of  the 
date  April  1,  13th  Queen  ANNE,  in  so  far 
as  it  is  ordained  that  esquires  on  succeed- 
ing to  their   title   should   establish  their 
descent  from  some  sort  of  an  ancestor,  so 
as  gradually  to  eliminate  the  parvenus,  the 
nouveaux  riches,  the  organ-grinders,  cab- 
runners    and    potato-can-men,     toi-disant 
esquires,  from  further  official  recognition. 

2.  To  vary  the  recent  precedency  order 
so  as  to  apply  only  to  esquires  who  are 
unable  to  pay  their  week's  rent,  or  have 
lately   served  a   term  of   penal  servitude. 
To  revive  the  use  of  the  ancient  style  of 
"  estimable  "  or  "  respectable." 

3.  To  assign  to  the  Esquirage  like  other 
orders  below  the  peerage,  with  habit  and 
insignia,   that  is,   coat,   collar,   and  cuffs, 
the  last-named  having  been  provided  (at 
the  expense   of  grammatical  training)  on 
credit  at  any  of  the  Universities  through- 
out the  Kingdom. 

4.  That  on  the  death  of  each  esquire  his 
insignia  be   returned  by  his  executors  to 
the  washerwoman  and  the  dustman  respec- 
tively (as  is  the  case  with  the  Orders  of 
Gents,  Misters  and  Commercial  Travellers), 
to  be  returned  to  the  next  esquire  on  satis- 
factorily proving  his  need  of  the  same. 

5.  That  the  relative  precedence  of  the 
Estimable  Order  among  foreign  croupiers 
and  chevaliers  d'industrie  should  be  autho- 
ritatively defined. 

6.  That    those    esquires   whose    patents 
contain  the  clause  by  which  their  eldest 
sons  are  entitled  to  the  style  of  "  Mister  " 
on  attaining  their  majority,   should  send 
in  the  names  forthwith,  in  order  to  have  a 
definite  ruling  on  this  important  point. 


Traveller.  "CAN  you  DIRECT  MB  TO  HOLLOW  MEADOWS?" 

Hodge  (who  itutters  frightfully).    "  YE-YE-YB-YES.     You   T-T-T-T-TAKK  THB   F-F-F-FIBST 
T-r-T-T-TURNiNO  ON  TH-THE  RIGHT,  AND  KU-KU-KU-KEEP  STRAIGHT  ON  OWKK  TH'  R-B-B-BKIO. 

BU-BUB-BUB-BUT  YOU  'D   BUB-BUB  BUB-BETTER   BE  OU-OU-OU-GANOIN'   ON.       YoU  'LL  OU-OU-OET 
THERE  QUICKER  TH-TH-TH-THAN   I   CAN   T-T-T-TBLL  YOU  !  " 


The  primary  essential  for  the  success  of 
this  movement  is  an  overpowering  number 
of  supporters,  and  it  will  materially  stiffen 
the  backs  of  the  committee  if  esquires  will 
kindly  append  their  mark  to  the  enclosed 
form,  approving  our  aims,  and  becoming, 
nominally  at  least,  one  of  our  supporters, 
for  fortune  favours  the  big  battalions,  all 
things,  we  mean,  all  nthrr  things,  being 
equal.  Indeed,  it  cannot  be  too  clearly 
nor  too  often  reverberated,  that  unless  the 
greater  majority  of  prehistoric  esquires  are 
agreed  as  to  our  aims  and  methods,  we 
shall  continue  to  be  ranked  at  dinner-tables 
among  plain  Misters,  just  as  Baronets  have 
their  digestion  spoilt  by  taking  precedence 


after  the  sons  of  legal  life  peers,  and  our 
efforts  may  be  regarded  as  foredoomed  to 
failure,  and  we  shall  be  thankful  to  know 
whether  the  order  as  a  whole  is  sympa- 
thetic, apathetic,  or  paralytic. 


The  Force  of  Classic   Teaching. 

Master.  Now,  boys,  what  is  Hexham 
famous  for? 

Binks  Minor.  Making  the  hexameter, 

Sir.  [ITatff  ofttrwards. 

DIVISION  or  SOOBTY  IN  KENT. —  The 
Lower  Class  and  the  Hopper  Class. 


232 


PUNCH,   OK  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  20,  1897. 


HAGGIS    AT   THE    HAYMARKET. 


MR.    J.    M.    BARRIE  (Novelist  and  Dramatic  Author). 
"Eon,  SIKS  !     'WHAUB'S  YOUR  WULLIE  SHAKSPEARE  NOO!'" 

THE  linguistic  "  deefeecultees  "  (if  Little  Minister  BARRIE  will 
pardon  my  attempt  at  phonetic  spelling  of  Scotch  "  as  "  I  think 
'  she  is  spoken ")  that  faced  me  within  the  first  few  pages  of 
The  Little  Minister  (wasn't  it  called  "  The  Stickit  Minister,"  or  is 
that  another  divine  in  another  ministry  ?)  were  so  obstacular,  that 
no  amount  of  my  own  particular  supply  of  perseverance,  within  a 
limited  period,  was  sufficient  to  surmount  them.  Had  I  been  a 
literary  "Death  or  Glory  Boy,"  I  would  have  charged  again, 
would  have  broken  down  the  Barrie-cade,  overtopped  the  "  deefee- 
cultees "  or  perished  in  the  attempt.  But  it  was  not  so  to  be,  and 
hence  it  happens  that  my  thorough  acquaintance  with  the  story 
and  characters  of  Mr.  J.  M.  BARRIE'S  Scotch  novel  has  been  made 
through  the  medium  of  his  play  at  the  Haymarket.  The  plot  is 
fresh,  ingenious,  and  dramatic  ;  it  is  lucidly  told  by  the  dramatist, 
and,  every  one  of  the  dramatis  persona  being  a  distinctly  marked 
character,  it  is  admirably  acted  by  all  concerned  in  the  representa- 
tion. If  ever  dramatic  author  had  reason  to  be  thoroughly  satis- 
fied with  his  interpreters  it  is  Mr.  BARRIE.  Mr.  FREDERICK 
HARRISON  and  Mr.  CYRIL  MAUDE  may  well  congratulate  them- 
selves, and  certainly  deserve  the  congratulations  of  all  play-goers 
on  the  wisdom  of  their  selection.  Thank  goodness  that  Mr. 
BRANDON  THOMAS,  Mr.  MARK  KINOHORNE,  Mr.  TYLER,  Mr. 
HOI.MAN  CLARK,  amd  Mr.  SYDNEY  VALENTINE — all  excellent — 
only  very  occasionally  speak  such  Scotch  as  is  unintelligible  to 
the  unaccustomed  ear  of  the  McCocKNEY.  The  thanks  of  the 
public  an  this  score  are  equally  due  to  Mrs.  E.  H.  BROOKE  and 
Miss  MARY  MACKENZIE,  both  of  whom  favour  the  public  with 
lust  so  much  of  the  strong  Scotch  as  suffices  to  show  how  unin- 
telligible they  could  be  if  they  chose.  Mr.  CYRIL  MAUDE  has 
been  wisely  advised  (by  himself)  in  not  making  any  attempt  at 
\  broad  accent  which  might  have  rendered  the  charming  love 
passages  between  the  captivated  Little  Minister  and  the  eccentric 
daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Rintoul  so  hopelessly  ridiculous  that  their 
tmrriage  would  have  excited  the  deepest  sympathy  of  the  audience 
!or  the  father  (as  cruelly  deceived  as  was  ever  old  Brabantio  by 


luckless  Vesdemona  who  married  the  Moor — not  up  in  Scotland), 
and  the  greatest  pity  for  the  honest,  plucky  Little  Minister,  in 
whose  future  as  the  husband  of  such  an  eccentric,  volatile,  and 
tricky  little  person  as  Lady  Babbie  would  be  laid  up  a  store  of 
misery,  ending  in  sensational  scandal  and  divorce.  The 
character  of  the  Reverend  Gavin  Dishart,  who  at  the  end  of  the 
third  act  might  well  have  changed  his  name  to  "  Give-iii-Dis- 
hartened "  but  for  the  blundering  malice  of  Captain  Halliwell, 
(not  a  pleasant  type  of  English  officer,  well-played  by  Mr.  HAL- 
LARD,)  is  perfectly  rendered  by  Mr.  CTRIL  MAUDE,  artistically 
made  up  as  the  youthful  Presbyterian  clergyman. 

Mrs.  CYRIL  MAUDE,  still  appearing  in  the  bill  under  her  maiden 
name  of  Miss  WINIFRED  EMEHY,  has  found  in  Lady  Habbie  a  part 
to  which,  as  a  true  comedian,  she  can  do  full  justice.  That  Lady 
tiabbie  is  irritating  to  a  degree  no  one  can  tail  to  admit,  and 
that  the  aristocratically-nosed  Earl,  her  lather,  played  with 
Wellingtouian  abruptness  by  Mr.  W.  G.  ELLIOT,  would  be 
justified  in  somehow  punishing  her  severely,  must  be  felt  by  every 
self-respecting  patertamilias  visiting  the  theatre  ;  and  yet  this 
"  Babbie,"  in  spite  of  her  Carmen-like  manner  when  she  throws 
the  rose  at  "  the  Reverend  gent,"  just  as  the  Spanish  Gipsy-girl 
threw  the  flower  at  the  captivated  Don.  Jose  and  then  ran  away, 
and  in  spite  of  her  silliness,  her  giggling,  her  making  fun  ol 
her  lover,  and  tricking  her  father,  is  irntatingly  lovable — and 
whippable. 

The  last  act  is  the  best  of  four  good  ones,  and  the  very  last 
situation  on  which  the  curtain  descends  is  quite  sufficient  to 
dismiss  an  audience  thoroughly  pleased  witn  everything  arid 
everybody — for  they  stop  to  encore  the  final  tableau,  over  and 
over  again,  so  humorous  and  so  full  ot  surprise  is  it,— and  to 
insure  the  complete  success  of  The  Little  Minister. 

In  the  bill  it  is  stated  that  Sir  ALEXANDER  MACKENZIE  has 
specially  written  music  for  the  piece.  It  may  be  so,  of  course  it 
i.s  so,  since  it  is  so  announced,  but  for  my  part,  1  got  no  "  special 
Scotch  "  in  the  way  of  music  during  the  entertainment,  for  when 
the  actors  were  not  speaking  the  audience  were,  and  conversation 
being  loud  and  general  during  the  entr'actes,  while  a  considerable 
number  were  availing  themselves  of  this  "  ten  minutes  allowed  for 
refreshment  "  to  visit  the  smoking-room,  it  seemed  to  me  that, 
"  but  for  the  look  of  the  thing  "  in  the  programme,  a  few  Scotch 
tunes,  and  occasionally  an  ordinary  "  melo,"  would  have  been 
quite  sufficient  to  have  met  the  musical  requirements  of  the  play. 
However,  thank  goodness,  there  are  no  bagpipes.  Probably  Sir 
ALEXANDER'S  "  special  Scotch  "  compositions  will  soon  be  heard, 
and  then  appreciated  at  a  McCLASSiCAL  concert. 


TO  GUARDIANS. 

['*  JChe  Holbeach  (Lincolnshire)  ^Guaruiaus  have  received  a  letter  from  the 
Local  Uoveranieut  Board  asking  what  uuinber  ol'  currauU  weie  to  be  put  ill 
the  children's  puddings.  It  seems  tuut  the  iutoimaliuu  wan  wanted  fur  audit 
purposes.  The  master  of  the  wurldiouae  is  to  provide  a  reply  to  the  communi- 
cation."—  Weotirnmter  Utuetie.] 

IN  view  of  the  above  it  is  obvious  that  guardians  in  the  future 
will  be  expected  to  possess  certain  qualifications  that  have  not  been 
required  of  them  in  the  past.  \Ve  are  informed  on  high  authority 
that  intending  candidates  will  be  subjected  to  a  searching  ex- 
amination before  they  are  allowed  to  otter  themselves  at  the  poll. 
The  following  questions  have  been  forwarded  to  us  as  a  specimen 
paper,  the  numbers  in  brackets  indicating  the  value  attached 
x>  a  correct  answer  to  each. 

1.  How  would  you  test  for  adipose  tissue  in  a  Holbeach  pauper? 
How  would  you  proceed  if  you  found  any  traces  of  it  ?     [_1(JJ 

2.  Analyse  your  emotions  after  consuming  a  workhouse  dinner. 
Describe  the  preparation  known  as  "  bread  and  scrape,"  and 

estimate  in   millionths  of    a    millimetre   the    thickness    of    the 
butter.     [10] 

3.  There  are  x  old  women  in  a  ward  A.     There  are  y  tea-leaves 
n  half  a  pound  of  tea.     There  are  z  gallons  of  H3U  in  the  copper. 
Solve  the  mixed  equation 

|yXz  HaO  (lukewarm)]  + 1  oz.  condensed  milk 

=  1  pint  pig- wash. 

[10J 

4.  Twenty-four  bilious  paupers  are  fed  on  plum  duff.     Twenty- 
'our   deaths   take    place   within    twenty-four    hours.     The   local 
>ress  (Radical)  argues  that  the  latter  are  the  direct  result  of  the 
ormer.     Is  thib  a  case  of  the  fallacy  post  hoc  ergo  propter  hue? 

If  not,  why  not  ?     [10] 

5.  "  Nature  abhors  a   vacuum."     What   inference   would   you 
draw  from  this  as  to  Nature's  attitude  towards  (a)  a  Guardian's 

ikull,  and  (6)  a  pauper's  stomach  ?     [10] 

6.  Solve  the  problem  proposed  by  the  Holbeach  Local  Govern- 
ment Board  as  quoted  at  the  head  of  this  paper.     [50] 


NOVEMBER  20,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


1>33 


\ 


'^^•~-- 


.-«***-  *~ 


••' 


__    „  _i^^*N^9N»«l5^^»*|K 

^iM^^^^ 


EMULATION. 

Stranger  (who  means  to  cut,  us  all  doim).  "  I  SUPPOSE  IT  "s  JUMPABLE  I  " 

Our  Pel  Thrmter  (determined  not  to  be  left).  "No,  QUITE  IMPOSSIBLE.     BUT  IT  WILL  BE  ALL  BIGHT  —  IF  YOU  CAN  SWIM!." 


LETTERS    TO    THE    CELEBRATED. 
No.  III.— To  MK.  A.  CO.NAN  UOYLK 

MY  DEAR  SIR, — Your  modesty  will  perhaps  pardon  me  if  1 
begin  by  stating  that  I  consider  it  a  privilege  to  write  to  you. 
We  both  follow  the  profession  of  literature,  both  of  us  know 
what  it  ia  not  to  spare  the  peritura  charta,  both  understand  by 
what  hieroglyphic  marks  the  mistakes  in  proof-sheets  may  be 
corrected,  and  both  of  us,  I  suppose,  receive  with  due  gratitude 
the  honorarium  to  which  our  labours  entitle  us.  But  there  the 
resemblance  ends.  You  have  fought  your  way  up  to  the  magic 
Castle  of  Romance,  you  have  struck  the  shield  that  hangs  upon 
the  outer  wall,  and  have  blown  a  loud,  clear  blast  upon  the 
mighty  horn.  I —  But  why  should  1  speak  of  niyselt  if  All  I 
need  dp  is  to  tell  you  again  that  1  am  proud  to  have  the  chance 
of  talking  to  you  tor  a  few  moments  on  paper. 

Many  are  the  pleasant  hours  I  have  spent  with  the  men  you 
have  created,  men  with  deep  chests  and  broad  backs  and  untiring 
limbs  and  dauntless  courage.  That  is  the  company  ^  White  or 
otherwise)  that  I  like.  I  can  step  into  the  street  at  thia  moment 
and  see  hundreds  of  the  spindle-shanked  and  pigeon-breasted  in 
their  top-hats  and  black  coats  and  dingy  trousers — all  very 
worthy,  very  respectable,  and  perfectly  punctual.  Thej  pay 
their  rates,  and  eat  their  roast  mutton,  and  support  tneii 
families  ;  they  catch  their  morning  trains,  and  crackle  the  topics 
of  the  day  with  one  another  as  they  fare  city-wards,  but  when  I 
•ay  that  for  interest  they  cannot  vie  with  Itficah  Clarke  and 
Hordle  John,  or  many  another  of  the  stout  and  valiant  fellows 
whose  honest,  swashing  blows  resound  in  your  stories,  that 
Sherlock  Holmes,  too  (never  an  arch  favourite  of  mine — but  let 
that  pass),  outweighs  them  all — when  I  say  this  I  am  stating  a 
truth  mildly  and,  1  trust,  without  offenoe.  And  as  for  problem 
novels,  analytical  novels,  sex-novels,  and  all  the  rest  of  the 
Gadarene  class,  I  fancy  we  nave  got  through  any  craze  we  may 
have  had  for  them.  Have  we  not  all  problems  enough  of  our  own 
without  resorting  to  novels  ?  How  shall  we  fashion  our  lives, 
even  in  such  small  matters  as  the  daily  arrangement  of  dinners, 
or  the  ordering  of  new  clothes,  or  the  making  and  keeping  of 
friends,  or  the  acquisition  in  marriage  of  the  beloved  one  '< 
These  matters  are,  in  all  conscience,  perplexing  enough  for  us. 
And  as  for  sex-novels,  great  Heaven,  we  may  be  degenerate  and 
ana'mic,  but  most  of  us  have  not  yet  sunk  so  low  as  to  bother  our 
heads  about  the  stale  questions  that  occupy  the  minds  of  the 
epicene  purveyors  of  dirt  and  balderdash.  No,  penned  in  as  we 
are  by  convention  and  circumstance,  we  sigh  for  the  lusty  and  re- 
joicing manhood  of  past  ages.  We  commit  ourselves  to  you,  ;m<l 
under  your  guidance  we  press  onward  into  the  mountain  passes, 


we  are  with  the  White  Company  in  their  last  glorious  stand,  we 
hear  the  trumpets  sound  and  the  clamorous  battle-cries  re-echo 
from  host  to  host,  the  arrows  hurtle  through  the  air,  the  great 
•words  rise  and  gleam  and  fall,  and  the  tide  of  conflict  rolls  back- 
ward and  forward  till  the  night  descends.  And  then — why,  then 
we  come  back  with  fresher  hearts  to  the  dull  routine  of  our  in- 
glorious lives.  And  it  may  chance,  too,  that  after  such  a  com- 
panionship with  you  we  shall  feel  our  breasts  thrill  with  a  higher 
emotion  and  a  more  generous  admiration  when  we  hear  of  the 
deeds  that  our  fellow-subjects  are  even  now  performing  far  away 
amid  the  crags  and  precipices  of  the  Indian  frontier. 

But  softly,  good  friend — it  is  a  carper  who  speaks — softly  :  all 
that  Mr.  DOYLB  does  has  been  done  before.  SCOTT  has  done  it, 
I )<'  MAS  has  done  it.  Granted,  I  answer  ;  but  what  then  ?  SCOTT, 
whom  we  love,  and  DUMAS,  whom  we  love,  need  not  exclude  a 
later  affection  for  you.  I  make  no  comparisons  ;  I  have  before  my 
eyes  the  fear  of  Mr.  CHRISTIE  MURRAY  ;  nor,  in  any  case,  is  it 
necessary  either  to  exclude  or  to  include  a  modern  by  comparing 
him  with  the  ancient  masters.  Let  a  man  stand  on  his  own 
sturdy  legs  and  be  judged.  Thus  I  place  you,  and  salute  and 
thank  you.  And,  I  may  add,  that  not  so  long  ago  I  took  from 
the  shelf  I.r  Bdtard  de  Mauleon,  by  DUMAS,  and  read  it  with  a 
breathless  interest.  The  period  is  that  of  your  White  Com- 
pany, and  there  is  magnificent  fighting  in  it,  but  the  mail-clad 
warriors  fight  on  the  side  opposed  to  yours,  and  Bertrand  dv 
Ovesclin  is  their  hero.  But  my  enjoyment  of  the  Bertrand  of 
DUMA.S  did  not  in  the  least  impair  my  delight  in  your  Black  1'rinet 
and  all  the  rest  of  your  Hampshire  heroes.  Why  should  it  not 
be  so  with  all  of  us?  Why  should  we  read  SCOTT  or  DUMAS,  and 
say,  "  We  end  there  ;  no  other  and  later  romancer  shall  ever 
give  us  pleasure  "  ? 

Farewell,  Sir.  You  are  yourself  a  strong.  broad-shouldered 
man,  and  you  take  a  natural  delight  in  deeds  of  strength  and 
courage.  Soon,  I  cannot  doubt,  you  will  array  yourself  in 
armour  and  gird  on  your  sword  again.  Are  there  not  vast  regions 
open  to  you  where  adventures  may  be  had  for  the  asking?  Pro- 
ceed and  conquer  them,  and  lay  your  spoils  once  more  before 
your  faithful  readers.  Affectionately  yours,  I'IIK  VAORANT. 


"  BRIOHT  CHANTICI.RER." — During  the  speech  of  Mr.  COCK, 
Q.C.,  in  the  recent  "  Medical  Divorce  Case,"  a  juryman  fell  fast 
asleep.  At  the  sound  of  the  voice  of  "  the  Herald  of  the  Dawn," 
it  is  popularly  supposed  that  the  sleeper  is  awakened.  Perhaps 
the  case  of  the  sleeping  juryman  insensible  to  the  notes  of  the 
COCK,  chnnnt  he  never  so  wisely,  i>  the  exception  that  moves  the 
rule.  In  future,  Mr.  COCK,  Q.C.  will  not  be  "too  cocky"  as  to 
tho  rousing  effect  of  his  oratory. 


234 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  20,  1897. 


She.  "  You  MUST  FORGIVE  ME  FOR  BEING  so  UNENTERTAINING  TO-NIGHT,  MR.  SOFTLY  ; 

BUT   I  'VE   HAD   SUCH   A   COLD  ALL  DAY,  AND   I  'M   ALWAYS   SO   STUPID  WHEN    I    HAVE  A  C'OLD." 

He  (wishing  to  be  gallantly  consolatory).    "WELL,  I  ASSURE  YOU  I   SHOULD  NEVER   HAVE 

NOTICED   THAT  YOU   HAD  THE   LEAST  COLD  !  " 


FURTHER  PROVERBS. 

(By  Our  Vague  Impressionist.) 

THERE  is  never  rain  without  sun. 

The  early  worm  is  the  shepherd's 
warning. 

Half  a  loaf  is  better  than  a  feast. 

Never  cry  "  wolf "  until  the  steed  is 
stolen. 

A  stitch  in  time  saves  a  pig  in  a  poke. 

Take  care  of  the  pence,  and  you  will 
never  know  where  the  shoe  pinches. 

Wilful  waste  makes  the  mare  to  go. 

Amongst  the  blind  there  is  no  such  word 
as  "fail." 

A  man  convinced  against  his  will  may 
as  well  be  hanged  for  a  dog  as  a  lamb. 

When  the  cat 's  away,  a  man  may  look 
at  a  king. 

One  good  turn  may  be  another  man's 
poison. 


"HORAS  NON  NUMERO"  QUAN- 
QUAM  "SERENAS." 

[The  Times,  after  publishing  an  articleon  the  sunny 
South,  ceased  to  record  the  sun  el  li  ne  in  England.] 

OH  !  doubtless,  well-intentioned  Times, 

You  tantalised  the  reader 
With  thoughts  of  sun  in  brighter  climes, 

Depicted  in  your  leader ; 
In  Monte  Carlo  or  in  Nice, 
Where  rooms  are  twenty  francs  apiece, 
And,  as  you  said,  the  natives  fleece 
The  stranger. 

Yet  here  the  shining  of  the  sun 
Deserves  more  careful  mention, 

Ten  minutes,  five,  or  even  one, 
In  London  claim  attention. 

Strange  if  no  rain  or  snow  should  fall, 

Or  fog  should  form  a  sooty  pall ; 

And  S  the  sun  should  shine,  then  all 
The  stranger. 


TO  A  BOSCH VIOOLTJE. 

"  LITTLE  wood  violet  "- 

Such  the  fond  epithet 
In  mellifluous  Dutch  bestowed 
On  the  subject  of  my  ode. 

Yes,  it  sounds  innocent, 

Shy  and  sweet,  redolent. 
"  Boschyiooltje  !  " — how  it  slips 
Butter-like  from  out  one's  lips, 

Conjuring  visions  rare 

Of  the  Spring  fresh  and  fair, 
In  this  London  Autumn-time, 
Charming  forth  a  meed  of  rhyme  I 

See,  I  've  bought  twenty-five 

"  Violets,"  where  they  thrive 
At  the  Hague,  and  all  the  lot 
For  a  guilder  have  I  got. 

Cheap  enough,  you  '11  agree — 

Kach  has  scarce  cost  a  d., 
With  a  cedar  box  as  well, 
And  a  quasi-Cuban  smell. 

Now  no  more  can  I  wait — 

My  desire  grows  too  great  ; 
Boschviooltje  !  thee  I  press 
To  my  lips  with  close  caress ! 

•  *  *  *  « 

Heavens !  I  feel  beastly  sick, 

Run  and  fetch  brandy  quick  ! 
Boschviooltje  ?     liosh  indeed  ! 
"i'is  a  cabbage  run  to  seed ! 

Violets !     Some  one  's  joked  ; 

Viler  weed  no  one  's  smoked ! 
Well,  my  luck  I  might  have  guessed 
From  the  name.    Here,  burn  the  rest! 


LINKS  WITH  THE  PAST. 

(A  Continued  Cvrrespoiuleiia'..) 

DEAR  PUNCH, — I  am  only  forty,  yet  I 
have  talked  to  a  man  who  saw  the  battle  ot 
Agincourt.  He  was  present  when  the  en- 
gagement came  off  on  the  stage  of  Drury 
Lane  Theatre.  Yours  truly, 

METHUSELAH,  JUNIOR. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  was  present  at  the 
funeral  of  the  first  Duke  of  WELLINGTON, 
and  (as  quite  a  child)  the  opening  of  the 
Crystal  Palace  at  Sydenham.  Beyond 
this,  I  perfectly  well  remember  the  last 
appearance  of  Mr.  MACREADY.  And  yet  1 
am  only  three-and-twenty. 

Yours  sincerely,        A  SPINSTER. 

DEAK  SIR, — I  have  spoken  to  a  man  who 
knew  a  man  who  was  cousin  of  a  man  who 
had  seen  a  man  who  thought  he  remem- 
bered reading  an  account  of  the  battle  of 
the  Alma.  This  takes  us  back  to  the  days 
of  the  Crimean  war.  Yours  faithfully, 
A  FOSSIL  OF  TWENTY. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  think  I  can  beat 
the  record.  It  is  easy  enough  to  say  you 
have  known  men  who  have  heard  this  and 
that.  But  to  go  back  to  the  flood  and 
earlier,  is,  in  my  opinion,  one  better. 
Well,  I  have  seen  a  plank  of  the  ark,  and 
a  pip  from  the  original  apple.  I  met  both 
in  a  museum  at  Boston. 

Yours,        SIMON  SIMPLE. 

MY  DEAR  SIR, — The  other  day  I  found  a 
bottle  of  sauce  that  had  been  forgotten  in 
a  cupboard.  It  bore  traces  of  having  been 
in  its  glass  receptacle  for  some  eighty 
years.  When  tasted,  the  flavour  was  as 
good  as  ever.  I  need  scarcely  say  to  those 
who  know  its  merits  that  the  condiment 

was  called  the .* 

Yours  in  the  name  of  business, 
THE  PROPRIETOR. 

*  Editorially  suppressed.  For  further  particulars, 
apply  to  the  advertisement  department. 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— NOTMBEK  20,  1897. 


'BETTER  LATE  THAN  NEVER." 

MR.  PUHCH.  "GLAD  YOU  TE  GOT  THEM   IN  AT  LAST,  MR.  RITCHIE ;   PITY  IT  COULDN'T  HAVE 

BEEN  DONE  BEFORE  I" 


NOVEMBER  20,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


237 


["  The  Auto-car  will  toon  make  iti  appearance  in  Peking." — Jieho.] 
AND  So  WILL  THE  AUTO-CAB,  IF  OUB  PROPHETIC  CHINESE  ARTIST  is  KIOHT. 


SCHOOL-BOARD  ELECTION,  1897. 

GENTLFMKN, — I  beg  to  offer  myself  as  a  candidate  for  election 
to  the  London  School  Board.  It  would  be  my  first  endeavour, 
if  elected,  to  raise  the  rate.  The  British  public  evidently  likes 
School-Board  extravagance,  so  why  should  it  not  be  humoured  ? 

I  should  give  constant  attention  to  the  enforcement  of  regular 
attendance  at  schools,  the  wholesale  fining  of  parents,  and  above 
all,  of  the  teaching  of  useful  subjects,  such  as  playing  the  har- 
monium, geometrical  drawing,  the  study  of  the  articulated  skele- 
ton, the  Greek  and  Hebrew  languages  in  all  their  various 
ramifications,  learning  Sanscrit,  ana  writing  essays  on  the  Morse 
code  of  signals.  The  art  of  golfing  would  also  occupy  a  con- 
aiderable  portion  of  the  scholars'  time  (clubs,  balls,  and  links, 
together  with  a  reasonable  number  of  caddies,  to  be  provided  at 
the  expense  of  the  ratepayers) . 

The  special  schools  for  children  of  defective  intellect,  deserves, 
and  would  receive  at  my  hands,  every  encouragement.  1  should 
propose  to  supply  the  inmates  of  all  such  schools  with  a  liberal 
amount  of  the  modern  "hill-top"  novels,  together  with  the 
recent  lucubrations  of  several  of  our  most  distinguished  minor 
poets. 

The  schools  for  the  deaf  and  dumb  should  each  be  provided 
with  a  German  band.  If  the  efforts  of  all  itinerant  Teutonic 
musicians  were  confined  to  these  institutes,  none  of  the  rest  of 
the  public  need  carry  guns. 

The  cookery  and  laundry  classes  cannot  be  of  the  slightest  use, 
nowaday*,  and  I  should  vote  for  their  abolition  and  the  sub- 
stitution of  a  bicycling  class  in  their  place  (bicycles,  fitted  with 
pneumatic  tyres,  to  be  provided  at  the  expense  of  the  ratepayers). 

It  would,  in  my  opinion,  be  disastrous  to  introduce  Sectarian 
teaching  into  the  Board  Schools.  Much  better  to  give  the 
children  lessons  in  scorching,  and  how  to  dodge  the  Bobby  when 
observed. 

I  should  always  oppose  the  introduction  of  a  birch  or  any  other 
instrument  of  correction  in  any  Board  School.  The  punishment 
inflicted  by  such  implements  is  all  very  well  in  such  schools  as 
Eton  and  Rugby,  but  would  at  once  become  degrading  in  a  Board 
School,  where  none  but  the  most  refined  and  sensitive  of  children 
are  found. 

If  returned,   I  shall  esteem  it  an  honour  to  procure  for  the 


rising  generation,  regardless  of  cost,  a  thoroughly  up-to-date 
education,  so  that  they  may  be  well  equipped  for  the  struggle  of 
life  (again,  at  the  expense  of  the  ratepayers). 

TO  A  DESTROYER. 

f "  While  leaving  the  harbour  at  Devonport  on  Saturday,  a  collision  occurred 
between  two  of  the  torpedo-boat  destroyer*.  .  .  .  Four  of  the  six  forming  tlui 
flotilla  at  Devonport  are  now  diiabled." — l>a\ly  UHronnle.} 

DESTROYERS  must  destroy,  oh  I  yes, 

But  we  who  pay  the  pelf 
Wish  you  'd  sometimes  sink  something  less 

Expensive  than  yourself. 


CHRISTMAS  CARDS. — The  "  Christmas  Card  "  is  annually  threat- 
ened with  extinction  ;  it  was  to  have  been  dead  as  the  Dodo,  and 
as  much  a  fashion  of  the  past  as  the  Dado.  Yet  here  it  is  again, 
and  as  much  to  the  front  as  ever.  RAPHAEL  TUCK  AND  SON*] 
Probably  Father  TUCK  brings  the  cards  out  simply  as  a  Christina* 
amusement  for  his  sons.  So  kind !  So  thoughtful !  His  "  house 
of  cards "  is  solid.  Their  booklets,  calendars  and  platinotype 
panels  are  as  novel  as  1897  can  produce.  Further  addition  is  a 
charming  gift-book  of  Hamlet,  illustrated  by  HAROLD  COPPINO. 
Exquisitely  and  cheerfully  got  up,  it  is  Hamlet  out  of  mourning 
— perhaps  for  the  festive  season  only.  This  book  is  dedicated  to 
Sir  HBNBT  IRVING.  

A  NOTE  ON  A  DIARY  OR  so. — Our  little  "  systems  "  are  supposed 
to  last  only  for  a  poetical  day,  but  JOHN  WALKER  A  Co.'a  "back- 
loop  "  pocket  diaries  have  a  neat,  useful  endurance  for  three 
hundred  and  sixty-five  plain,  matter-of-fact  days.  Now  that  1*8 
is  in  view,  there  is  no  going  back,  but  start  afresh  with  this 
excellent  system  in  the  choicest  varieties  of  leather.  How  nice  to 
look  at  the  diaries  rune !  So  blank !  so  new !  But  at  the  end  of 
the  year!  ....  Happy  Thought!  Put  down  nothing  that's 
unpleasant  to  remember.  

A  Suggestion  for  an  Advertisement. 

TRY  OUR  TURKEY  CARPETS! 
CAK'T  BK  BKATKN  BY  AJTYONE  AMYWURBB!! 


238 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  20,  1897. 


CHEF    D'ORCHESTRE;" 

Or,  A  Soul  for  Music. 
A  SKETCH   OF   A    CARVER  AT   A   RESTAURANT   ENTIRELY   CARRIED 

AWAY   BY   THE   STRAINS    OF  THE    INTERMEZZO   FROM    CAVALLXRIA 
liUSTWASfA,    AS   PERFORMED   BY   THE   BAND   IN  THE  GALLERY. 


AMONG  THE   ROARING  FORTIES; 

Or,   The  New  Menagerie  of  Letters. 

[A  certain  weekly  paper  ia  said  to  have  established  a  British  Equivalent  fo 
the  Ariidemie  Fran<jaise,  with  annual  prizes  amounting  to  150  guineas.] 

Man,  1897. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — Your  attention  may  have  been  directed  to 
a  recent  epoch-making  announcement  in  the  pages  of  The  School- 
master at  Home.  The  staff  of  that  leading  organ  of  criticism  has 
decided  to  establish  a  Menagerie  Litteraire.  Already  it  has 
tentatively  published  a  list  of  the  Greatest  Forty.  Once  a  year 
it  threatens  to  select  a  work  of  signal  merit  and  crown  it 
(Fr.  couronnerr)  with  a  Triple-Expansion  Grand  Piano.  It  has 
further  arranged  for  the  coronation  of  a  book  by  some  young 
aspirant.  The  tiara  in  this  case  will  take  the  shape  of  a  Small 
Cottage  Street-organ.  It  is  felt  that  this  munificent  offer  will 
furnish  a  noble  source  of  sustinence  to  the  starving  hero  of  the 
year ;  and,  apart  from  the  grosser  incentive,  will  encourage  even 
the  Greatest  Writers  to  become,  if  possible,  Greater  Still. 

But,  weighty  as  must  always  be  the  authority  of  such  a  journal 
as  The  Schoolmaster  at  Home,  I  can  hardly  doubt  but  that  some 
of  The  Rejected  will  appeal  against  its  verdict  to  your  sympa- 
thetic and  erudite  judgment.  My  many  friends  (including  notori- 
ous pulpit-orators)  have  urged  me,  much  against  the  instincts 
of  modesty,  to  write  to  you  on  my  own  claims.  I  am  emboldenec 
to  take  upon  me  this  uncongenial  task  by  the  kindly  appreciation 
you  have  already  extended  to  my  latest  masterpiece,  The  Heathen. 
To  have  come  home  to  something  like  100,000  beating  British 
bosoms  ought,  you  would  suppose,  to  entitle  a  writer  to  rank 
within  thirty-six  places,  say,  of  the  Duke  of  Argyll.  I  think  1 
have  the  authority  of  the  President  of  the  Inoculated  Society  ol 
Authors  (whose  name,  I  notice,  is  no  more  there  than  mine)  for 
contending  that  Popularity  is  the  true  measure  of  Literary 
Distinction.  But  as  it  has  never  been  my  habit  to  boom  my  own 
work,  I  merely  ask  for  a  referendum  to  be  addressed  to  the  great 
heart  of  England. 

I  am,  Yours  in  the  bond  of  literature,          H-LL  C-N-. 

P.S. — Native  Extraction  is,  I  believe,  necessary  to  success  in 
this  competition ;  but  the  ordinary  coupon  system  has  been 
generously  dispensed  with. 


No.  1 ,  Outsule  the  critical  pale. 

SIR, — It  has  always  been  among  the  most  painful  Sorrows  of 
Satan  that,  while  largely  appreciated  by  the  masses,  his  extreme 
nerita  have  never  been  recognised  by  the  Elect.  In  this  sentiment 
[  altogether  differ  from  my  friend.  I  am  content  to  titillate  the 
billion.  By  the  way,  have  you  seen  my  portraits? 

Yours  retiringly,  M-R-  C-R-LL-. 

P.S. — If  justice  had  been  done  (which  it  never  is),  I  hold  that 
Mr.  SWINBURNE'S  place  in  this  menagerie  should  have  been  taken 
by  that  exceptionally  brilliant  bard,  Mr.  ERIE  MACKAY. 

The  Summit,  Hindhead. 
DBAR  MB.  PUNCH, — 

"  The  mountain  sheep  are  sweeter, 

But  the  valley  sheep  are  fatter. 
You  follow  me  t  Yours,  till  Pisgah, 

GR-NT  ALL-N. 

HUMOROUS  SIR, — Gratified  as  I  am,  in  a  political  sense,  to 
observe  that  no  fewer  than  four  ex-Ministers  of  the  Liberal 
Government  find  places  in  the  first  eleven  (I  presume  that  the  Mr. 
W.  E.  GLADSTONE  there  mentioned  is  identical  with  the  well- 
known  Statesman),  while  not  a  single  Tory  figures  in  the  whole 
list,  I  cannot  but  think  that  insufficient  honour  has  been  paid  to 
the  claim*  of  pure  esprit.  Might  not  room,  for  instance,  have 
been  found  for  the  author  of  Ex  Tempore  Lvcvbrata? 

Yours  playfully,  A-G-ST-N-  B-RK-LL. 

Vigo  Street. 

SIR, — To  be  excluded  from  a  catalogue  which  ignores  the  merits 
of  Mr.  ALFRED  AUSTIN  is,  in  itself,  an  honour  than  which  I  ask 
nothing  better.  Yours,  au  grand  serieux,  W-LL-M  W-TS-N. 

Vigo  Street. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — How  comes  it  that  the  name  of  my  dis- 
tinguished friend  Mr.  JOHN  DAVIDSON  is  not  to  be  traced  among 
the  Greatest  Forty  ?  Yours,  &c.,  R.  L-  G-LL-NN-. 

Vigo  Street. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — How  conies  it  that  the  name  of  my  dis- 
tinguished friend  Mr.  RICHARD  LE  GALLIENNB  is  not  to  be  traced 
among  the  Greatest  Forty?  Yours,  &c.,  J-HN  D-V-DS-N. 

At  the  Sign  of  the  Aerial  Triplets. 

SIR, — Man  is  a  bestial,  if  necessary,  blot  upon  creation.  Could 
I  and  similar  matrons  have  our  way,  he  should  be  soundly 
smacked.  Sexual  jealousy,  I  take  it,  has  kept  my  name  from  this 
arbitrary  list.  Yet  I  have  just  written  The  Beth  Book  in  the 
World  I  It  is  not  for  me  to  say  who  has  written  the  necth  beth. 
Yours  indignantly,  S-R-H  GR-ND. 

P.S. — I  exempt  you,  Mr.  Punch,  from  the  spanking  assertion 
with  which  my  letter  opens. 

e/o  Clio,  Parnassus. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  am  glad  to  observe  my  name  among  The 
Forty.  I  do  not,  however,  altogether  subscribe  to  the  other 
thirty-nine  articles.  Yours,  sceptically,  W.  E.  fl.  L-CKY. 

c/oD.  T. 

MY  DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — Though  myself  a  writer  of  verse  of  the 
old  school,  and  therefore  unlikely  to  receive  due  recognition  from 
a  decadent  age,  I  am  still  not  oblivious  of  the  merits  of  rising 
talent.  Now,  there  is  one  young  man  whose  name  should  cer- 
tainly have  appeared  in  the  list  of  Worthies.  He  has  already 
published  his  collected  works ;  but  being  curiously  unaffected  by 
a  sense  of  his  own  importance,  he  would  never  advertise  himself 
by  putting  forward  his  own  claims.  I  hope  I  shall  not  be  sus- 
pected of  partisanship  if  I  urge  them  on  his  behalf.  It  is  a  youth 
of  promise — a  certain  Mr.  MAX  BEEKBOHM. 

Yours  warmly,          CL-M-NT  SC-TT. 

The  Morgue,  Paris. 

SIR  PUNCH,  MISTER,— Hope  differed — as  one  says — makes  the 
core  bilious.  Here  they  will  not  have  me  at  no  price,  try  all  I 
will.  But  you,  you  have  the  nose  fine  for  merit.  Albeit,  in 
effect,  not  of  Anglo-Saxon  provenance,  I  am  traveller.  I  have 
made  the  grand  voyage  of  the  Sleeve.  See  there,  then,  I  speak 
the  English.  Oyesl  Alright.  Agree,  &c.,  EM-L- Z-L-. 

(Imperial  Wire.) 

Charivari  London  On  strength  of  mortal  verse  volume  sermons 
and  British  extraction  claim  seat  in  Menagerie  Litteraire  with 
interim  damages  for  lese-majeste  William  Potsdam. 


SOMETHING  WELI.  KNOWN,  BUT  NOT  GENERALLY  RKMKMIIKRKD  — 
That  we  ewe  the  invention  of  printing  to  a  "  Coster." 


NOVEMBER  20,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


239 


THE    QUARTERLY    ACCOUNTS. 

Cleric.  " SORRY  TO  SAY,  SIR,  THERE'S  A  SADDLE  WE  CAN'T  ACCOUNT  FOR.     CAN'T  UNO  OUT  WHO  IT  WAS  SENT  TO. 

Employer.    "CHARGE   IT  ON   ALL  THE   BlLLS." 


"NEW  LAMPS  FOR  OLD." 

IN  pursuance  of  his  benevolent  plan,  Mr.  Punch  begs  to  offer 
his  younger  readers  another  nursery  story,  re-written  in  a  style 
that  will_commend  itself  to  the  youthful  decadents  of  the  present 
day.  With  the  charming  vagueness  so  much  in  fashion,  it  is 
called  simply 

AN  INTERLUDE. 

JACK  HORNER  sighed  wearily,  and  turned  to  his  sister. 
"JEMIMA,"  he  said,  you  annoy  me — you  annoy  me  excessively. 
When  I  fain  would  pen  the  last  stanza  of  this  priceless  Ballade 
of  Bath  Buns  you  interrupt  me  with  a  Philistine  request  to  "  play 
soldiers."  Child,  I  begin  to  despair  of  you.  You  are  eight  years 
old — but  twelve  months  younger  than  myself — and  you  are  dead, 
quite  dead,  to  all  the  finer  instincts  of  the  aesthetic  mind. 
JEMIMA,  I  crave  for  solitude — I  would  commune  with  my  own 
deep  thoughts,  and  probe  the  mystery  of  the  inmost  soul.  And 
so,  having  wiped  my  fingers — which  I  perceive  to  be  stained  with 
the  ink  of  authorship— in  your  hair  (I  beseech  you.  spare  me 
those  inharmonious  waitings!),  I  will  now  seat  myself  in  yonder 
corner,  secluded  as  far  as  may  be  from  the  debasing  horrors  of 
the  nursery  furniture." 

He  moved  towards  the  corner,  but  paused  for  awhile  at  the 
table.  "Ah,  what  have  we  here?"  he  murmured.  "Yes,  it  is 
one  of  those  quaint  relics  of  an  effete  superstition — it  is,  in  fact, 
what  they  call  'a  Christmas  pie.'  Yes,  this  strange  emblem  of 
the  benighted  past  shall  accompany  me  to  my  corner.  Twill 
furnish  food  for  both  mind  and  body.  Dear  pie,  let  us  wend 
together !  " 

"That  is  my  pie  !  "  cried  his  sister,  angrily. 

He  turned  towards  her,  and  with  inimitable  grace  laid  his 
thumb  lightly  upon  his  nose  and  spread  his  tapering  fingers  to- 
wards the  girl. 

"  You  are  so  crude,  JEMIMA,"  he  said  in  weary  tones.     "  We 


have  done  for  ever  with  those  foolish  distinctions.  Whether 
'twas  once  yours  matters  not ;  rest  content  to  know  that  at  least 
'tis  mine  now.  We  have  done  with  the  bad  old  modes  of  thought, 
we  have  done  with  ignorant  altruism — and  if  I  have  struck  you 
with  some  alight  emphasis  on  the  nose,  'tis  scarce  needful  to 
shriek  in  that  distressing  way  1 " 

He  seated  himself  comfortably  in  the  corner,  and  then  turning 
towards  his  still  sobbing  sister,  poised  a  large  currant  deftly  on 
the  thumb  of  his  right  hand. 

"  JEMIMA,  it  were  wiser  to  rejoice  that  you  have  a  brother  who 
is  in  truth  a  paragon  of  virtue.  Why  lament  that  the  low  and 
sordid  delight  of  eating  this  pie  is  withheld  from  you  'i  Yours  is 
to  be  a  far  rarer  and  more  subtle  pleasure,  which  I  will  now 
afford  you,  even  at  the  risk  of  some  personal  inconvenience.  This 
afternoon  have  I  finished  that  pot  of  strawberry-jam  which  I 
stole — nay,  that  is  a  Philistine  word — which  I  rescued  from  the 
store-room.  Subsequently  I  took  to  my  inmost  self  at  tea-time 
two  meretricious  muffins  and  six  coquettish  crumpets.  Yet,  so 
admirable  is  my  courage,  so  dauntless  my  virtue,  that  I  will  not 
shrink  from  this  present  task,  I  will  not  deny  you  this  purest 
pjeasure.  You  shall  not  eat  this  pie,  JKMIMA,  but — happy,  nappy 
girl ! — you  shall  see  me  eat  it  I " 

There  was  a  tense  silence  as  JACK  HORNER  swallowed  mouthful 
after  mouthful.  "Dear,  delicious  morsel!"  he  exclaimed,  apos- 
trophising the  large  currant  which  still  rested  on  his  thumb, 
"  ripened,  perchance,  in  sunny  Greece,  replete  with  the  divine 
Greek  charm,  you  are  placed  at  last  in  no  unworthy  mouth  1 "... 

It  was  all  over.  The  deed  was  accomplished.  Not  a  crumb  of 
the  pie  remained.  But  JACK  HORNBR  grew  white  and  pale,  while 
his  sister  regarded  him  with  wicked  glee. 

"Alack," Tie  moaned,  "'tis  ever  the  lot  of  the  truly  good  to 
suffer!  A  strange  feeling  of  depression  is  stealing  over  me! 
.  .  .  .  JEMIMA,"  he  added,  in  strangely  altered  accents,  "don't 
sit  there  giggling  like  that,  you  little  booby!  Can't  you  see  I  'm 
ill  ?  Go  and  fetch  the  nurse,  dear  JEMIMA — and  do  please  be  quick  1" 


240 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  20,  1897. 


Sportsman  (who  has  just  shot  at  a  duck).   "  I  THINK  HE  'LL  COME  nowy,  DUNCAN." 
Duncan.  "Ay,  SIR,  HE'LL  COME  DOWN — WHEN  HE'S  HUNGRY.' 


TOBY,  M.P.'S  PARLIAMENTARY  GUIDE. 

III. 

The,  Speaker  put  the  Question. — The  new 
Member  will  do  well  to  train  himself  in 
observing  where  the  Speaker  puts  the 
question.  As  he  may  learn  to  his  cost, 
there  is  significant  difference  between  the 
Speaker  putting  the  question  in  his  boots, 
under  the  cushion  of  his  Chair,  or  simply 
in  his  pocket. 

"  I  am  sure  hon.  Gentlemen  near  me  will 
bear  me  out  when  I  say —  — Next  to 
moving  the  Speaker  out  of  the  Chair,  a 
Parliamentary  proceeding  already  de- 
scribed, this  is  the  most  popular,  as  tending 
to  vary  the  monotony  of  a  dull  sitting.  It 
has,  moreover,  its  uses  and  advantages  as 


'  Hon.  Gentlemen  near  me  will  i 
when  I  say !" 


indicating  the  probable  course  of  a  debate. 
Members  listen  to  what  the  gentleman  on 
his  legs  has  to  say,  and  if  they  ngree  with 
his  assertion  or  argument,  those  near  him 
instantly  jump  up,  and  generously  cm  firm 
his  expectation  that  they  will  "  bear  him 
out."  dropping  him  either  in  the  Central 
Lobby  or  down  the  main  staircase,  as  he 
is  personally  popular  or  otherwise.  If  they 
dissent,  they  ignore  his  invitation.  Old 
Parliamentary  Hands  often  forecast  the 
issue  of  an  important  debate,  simply  from 
watching  this* course  of  procedure. 

Sark  tells  me  this  custom  had  something 
to  do  with  the  rejection,  by  a  small  ma- 
jority, of  MATTHEW  WHITE  RIDLEY,  when 
he  offered  himself  as  a  candidate  for  the 
Speakership.  Had  he  scaled  even  a  stun 
less,  he  might  have  run  Mr.  GULLY  nearer. 
But  every  pound  over  sixteen  stun  obvi- 
ously increases  the  difficulty  of  "  moving 
the  Speaker  out  of  the  Chair."  Members 
think  of  this  when  called  upon  to  decide 
between  the  candidates  for  the  Speaker- 
ship. 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Sporting  Cavalier,  sojourniny  on  the  South 
Downs,  unwittingly  takes  wrong  course  to  the 
trysKny-place  of  the  Hounds,  and  is  griernns/i/ 
disappointed. 

THE  morning  mist  is  wan  and  grey, 

Sweeping  across  the  blue-preen  downs, 
Hiding  the  dawning  of  the  day 

With  wind-borne  wrinkles,  foggy  frowns. 
The  air  is  nippine,  taking  hold 

As  Dunstan  did  the  Deuce's  nose, 
And  clutching  with  its  fingers  cold 

The  limbs  that  still  demand  repose. 

For  many  a  mile  I  '11  have  to  ride 

Across  the  short-clipped,  wintry  sward, 
Before  I  reach  the  covert-side, 

Where  I  may  find  my  right  reward. 
She  knows  the  guerdon  that  I  seek, 

A  glance,  a  word,  may  be  a  smile. 
And.  were  all  Nature  thrice  as  bleak, 

I  'd  ride  a  league  for  every  mile  1 

I  see  you  sitting  on  your  bay, 

Diana- Vernon-like,  you  seem. 
Oh  I  would  that  I  could  hymn  a  lay  1 

Or  symbolise  a  painter's  dream 
Of  all  that 's  femininely  fair. 

Of  all  that 's  beautiful  and  true  ! 
Both  song  and  picture  should  be  rare, 

Because  they  'd  only  speak  of  you  1 

Of  you,  the  Princess  of  the  Wold, 

My  Lady  of  the  laughing  eyes, 
That  can  such  merriment  unfold, 

And  give  to  Hope  what  Love  denies  I 
Of  vou,  who  sent  that  little  note! 

'Tis  next  mv  heart  I     I  do  declare 
'Tis  wanner  than  my  overcoat ! 

"At  Upton  Gorze,  shall  you  be  there?" 

Thus  thinking  of  you  as  we  speed 

O'er  broken  ridge  and  chalky  hill, 
O'er  dyke  and  ditch,  no  check  I  heed ; 

I  ride  with  purposeness  of  will. 
Nearer  and  nearer  yet  we  draw 

To  Upton  Gorze.     The  goal  is  near. 
The  air  that  I  thought  chill  and  raw, 

Is  now  divinely  warm  and  clear  I 

The  Gorze  at  last  I     No  one  in  sight ! 

No  hounds  I     No  field  I     Am  I  too  late  ? 
My  watch  !    Oh  !  yes  ;   the  hour  's  all  right  I 

I  breathe  again.     Of  course,  I'll  wait. 
A  yokel  I     "  Hi !  what  time  's  the  meet  P  " 

"  What  meet  ?     There  's  none  out  here 

to-day  I " 
"  At  Upton  Gorze,"  I  twice  repeat. 

"  Oh  !  Upton  1    That 's  ten  miles  away ! ! " 


NOVEMBER  27,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OK  THE   LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


241 


•*• 


-;<M;I';".  I  •*- 


,7 


A    SLIGHT    DISPLACEMENT. 

Gent  (who  narrowly  escaped  being  jumped  of  at  the  last  fence).  "Hi,  MISTER,  CAS  YOU  SEE  WHAT'S  DONE  WRONG 

WITH   THIS  CONFOUNDED  SADDLE?" 


ABROAD   IN  TFIE   AUTUMN. 

"Budapest. — The  Hungarian  begins  the  day  in  clouds  of  tobacco 
smoke.  He  hastens  through  the  dangerous  freshness  of  the  outer 
air  to  a  cafe,  where  the  double  doors  and  double  windows,  care- 
fully closed,  have  preserved  intact  the  cozy  atmosphere  of  the 
previous  evening.  Here  he  obtains  the  national  breakfast — one 
strong  cigar,  one  glass  of  cold  water,  and  one  glass  of  coffee  and 
cream.  After  breakfast  he  smokes  another  cigar,  and  two  more 
glasses  of  cold  water  are  placed  before  him.  This  second  supply 
of  water  is  not  intended  for  serious  drinking,  but  only  for  sipping, 
like  a  liqueur.  He  dines  in  clouds  of  tobacco,  he  sups  in  them 
also,  still  protected  from  the  dangerous  fresh  air  by  double  win- 
dows and  double  doors,  he  works,  in  his  office  or  his  bank,  in  the 
same  snug  atmosphere,  if  he  travels  he  has  double  windows  in  the 
railway  carriage,  and  he  finishes  the  evening,  probably  in  the 
caf<'  where  he  has  breakfasted,  with  some  more  cigars  and  some 
more  water,  in  a  still  more  solid  air.  His  complexion  is  usually 
sallow. 

The  Hungarian  is  intensely  patriotic.  He  even  smokes  Hun. 
garian  tobacco.  As  evidence  of  his  patriotism  he  is  not  com- 
pelled, as  the  German  Bohemian  seems  to  be,  to  make  speeches 
twelve  hours  long  in  public,  but  if  he  gets  hold  of  you  in  private, 
in  a  train  or  an  hotel,  he  will  make  speeches  quite  sufficiently 
long  to  satisfy  any  reasonable  stranger.  He  has  a  fine  country, 
and  everything  in  it,  from  gold  to  pepper.  No  one  has  ever 
seen  his  gold,  because  it  is  all  paper.  As  for  his  pepper, 
it  looks  as  if  it  were  all  red  lead,  but  it  turns  out  to 
be  excellent.  He  has  his  own  pepper,  his  paprika,  which  is 
quite  unlike  other  people's,  and  he  has  his  own  language,  which 
is  more  so.  And  he  thrusts  them  both  down  your  throat  whether 
you  like  them  or  not.  If  you  do  not  appreciate  his  pepper,  or 
understand  his  language,  you  must  go  without.  Probably  he 
used  them  both  a  thousand  years  ago,  and  has  used  no  other  since. 

In  Italy,  notices  in  public  buildings  are  often  translated  into 
French,  in  Germany,  frequently  into  English,  though  there  are 
people  who  know  Italian,  and  some  even  who  understand  German. 
But  no  stranger  knows  a  single  word  of  the  Magyar  language. 
The  Hungarian  does  not  care.  If  he  is  too  proud  to  use  Ger. 
man,  he  might  try  French,  or  even  Latin,  a  language  as  respect- 


able M  his.  Not  he !  He  puts  up  notices  which  may  mean 
"Entrance,"  "No  admittance,"  "This  way  out,"  "Private," 
"  Emergency  Exit,"  "  Push,"  "  Pull,"  "  Back  in  Half  an  Hour," 
or  anything  else,  as  far  aa  the  hapless  stranger  can  tell.  One 
must  ask  a  bystander  for  a  translation.  Even  on  the  steamers 
one  would  have  to  ask  the  man  at  the  wheel  to  translate  the 
notice  which  forbids  one  to  speak  to  him. 

It  would  be  an  advantage  to  understand  some  of  the  regula- 
tions in  Pest.  On  the  chief  bridge  over  the  Danube  the  foot- 
passengers  in  each  direction  keep  to  one  side.  Small  policemen, 
armed  with  swords,  and  wearing  bowler  hats  with  long  white 
feathers  in  them,  stand  at  the  entrances  to  keep  order.  I  have 
no  doubt  that  no  one  must  turn  back.  If  yon  once  got  on, 
having  paid  your  kreutzer,  and  found  you  had  forgotten  your 
handkerchief  or  your  umbrella,  you  must  go  all  across  the  bridge 
to  the  other  side  and  come  back  correctly. 

If  the  language  bore  the  faintest  resemblance  to  any  other,  an 
enterprising  tourist  might  learn  a  few  words.  In  most  countries 
the  Englishman  starts  the  day  with  a  word  the  first  letter  of 
which  is  B — bath,  bain,  Bad,  bagno,  baAo,  and  so  forth.  When 
you  begin  with  a  fiirilo,  and  try  to  rub  yourself  with  a  huge, 
chilly,  linen  sheet,  you  feel  that  you  are  indeed  in  a  strange 
land. 

In  some  words,  however,  the  language  is  so  like  others  that 
you  understand  it  perfectly.  When  you  see  "  A  villa,"  yon  feel 
quite  at  home.  But  the  wily  Magyar  does  not  let  you  down  so 
easily.  It  is  only  his  fun.  For  a  riMa  means  "  the  fork."  And 
when  you  see  "  StfOttA  "  in  a  bill  of  fare  you  know  what  that 
means.  So  would  a  Frenchman.  It  is  of  coarse  the  Hungarian 
spelling  of  lliftcck.  But  the  waiter  brings  you  a  small  quantity  of 
stewed  fruit,  a  German  eompoi,  iust  as  you  are  expecting  the 
satisfying  filet,  and  you  find  that  the  Magyar  has  done  you  again. 
You  rub  your  eyes  still  more  when  you  see  on  the  paddle-box  of 
a  steamer  the  word  "  Margit."  Can  it  be  that  this  boat  goes 
down  the  Danube,  through  the  Dardanelles,  and  across  the 
Mediterranean  and  the  Bay  of  Biscay  to  the  Kentish  coast  P 
Again  the  Magyar  has  deceived  you.  That  is  his  rendering  of 
the  name  "  Margaret."  So  at  last  you  become  reconciled  to 
"  Hen,"  which  is  the  way  he  spells  "  Vienna." 

ROBINSON  THE  ROVER. 


VOL.    OXIM. 


242 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  27,  1897. 


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NOVEMBER  27,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


•JI3 


SPOKTIVE  SONGS. 

A    I'filnnl,    ruii.ifd   by  tfie  jtiteuus  ajipea.1  of  a 
af.l  wursUd  by  critics  over  a  literary  euay, 
u-fiti-a  to  con»ole  her, 

SUMS  little  cares,  some  little  woes, 
Some  fickle  friends,  some  bitter  foes, 
Some  water  from  a  Critic's  hose. 

Is  this  the  tale  you  tell,  dear  r 
The  cares  and  woes  may  both  be  drowned 
Together  with  the  friends  unsound  ; 
The  Critic — why,  when  you  're  renowned 

He'll  long  have  dried  his  well,  dear  I 

Think  not,  my  sweet,  that  tongue  or  pen 
Can  make  or  inar  the  aims  of  men ; 
They  only  bar  the  course-;— and  then 

They  fall  like  chains  disjointed. 
You  'U  notice  that  of  "  men  "  I  speak, 
The  eyer  striving,  ever  weak, 
But  take  advice  from  one  who,  meek, 

Is  also  disappointed! 

Unce  was  the  day  I  longed  for  fame 
All  prone  to  gain  an  honoured  name, 
And  light  the  world  with  such  a  flame 

As  would  mankind  go  blinking. 
I M  novels  write  that  would  excel 
Or  UEADE'S  great  style  or  BALZAC'*  spell ; 
1  soared  aloft^— and  crushed  I  fell, 

And  that  set  me  a-thinking  1 

Thinking  am  I  from  day  to  day, 

The  while  my  hair  grows  yet  more  grey, 

But  yet  my  course  I  will  not  stay, 

No  Critic  yet  could  blind  me. 
The  Plough  of  Time  may  furrows  inuke, 
But  still  good  seed  will  good  crops  take, 
And  on  that  soil  it 's  mine  to  stake 

The  all  I  leave  behind  me  I 

So,  little  girl  (I  call  you  so 
Because  1  knew  you  long  ago, 
Before  you  ever  had  a  foe), 

Ue  firm  in  aspiration. 
Tis  not  the  dog  that  eats  the  dog, 
"fis  not  the  fumbler  in  the  fog, 
Nor  e'en  the  roller  of  the  log, 

Who  '11  make  your  reputation  I 


ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD  HOUSE  CF  LORDS. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, —  The  new  secretary 
of  the  Marylebone  Cricket  Club  will  ivr- 
tainly  be  a  gentleman  capable  of  scoring 
freely  utnong  his  brother  members,  but  I 
venture  to  suggest  that  he  should  also  be 
a  far-sighted  individual,  who  recognises 
that  the  P.  P.,  or  Paying  Public,  at  Lord's 
likes  to  witness  some  few  incidents  of  the 
name  when  a  gate-money  match  is  on  hand. 
Cinisiili-  PERKINS,  on  such  occasions,  the 
backs  of  ladies'  hats,  of  heads  of  both  sexes, 
ul  carriages,  and  of  special  stands,  have 
been  the  outlook  of  the  humble  pedestrian, 
not  a  member  of  the  M.  C.  C.  Without 
Hontgen  rays  the  aspect  of  cricket  has 
been  invisible.  In  fact,  in  this  respect, 
village  commons  always  beat  town  Lord's. 
Let  the  new  sec.  be  extra  sec  in  keeping 
up  the  fizz  of  cricket. 

Yours  respectfully, 
THB  WICKET  UNCLI. 

Stumpingtun  Lodge,  Bunnymcde. 


Philosophy  of  the   Cross-ways. 

Friendly  Child  (to  Crossing-sweever) . 
What  a  bad  cough  you  have.  WTiy  don't 
you  go  and  see  the  doctor  ?  I  always  have 
to. 

Criisxiiiij-xuii'iifr.  No,  thank  you,  mas- 
ter ;  I  ain't  got  no  holding  with  doctors. 
Why,  they  writes  their  perscriptions  in 
Latin,  but  sends  in  their  bill  in  Lnglish. 


'WELL,    AND   AIIR   YOU   OOINO  TO   BE   A'  SOLDIER   WHEN    Yiir   i;i:i>W    fl',    ToMMY  ?  " 

'No,  AUNTIE.     1  WAS  OOINO  TO  BE  A  SOLDIER,  urn  IT  NKYKK  CAME  OFF!" 


TURNS  OF  THE  TIDE. 

SCKXE— THe  Sanctum.  Editor  and  Sub-editor 
discovered. 

Sub-editor.  What  shall  we  call  the  sea- 
side column,  Sir?  It's  getting  too  cold 
for  our  Autumn  heading,  "  Ocean  in  Har- 
vest-time." 

Editor.  Which  was  far  weaker  than  our 
earlier  title,  "  Summer  with  the  Waves." 

Sub.  Yes,  Sir;  that  was  right  enough. 
I  think  its  predecessor,  "  Neptune  in 
Springtime,"  was  pretty,  and  equally 
intelligible. 

Ed.  Shall  we  drop  the  column  for  the 
present  ? 

Sub.  Rather  a  pity,  Sir,  as  we  get  a 
good  deal  of  interesting  matter  from  the 
North  and  the  Thanet  coait .  Besides,  it  '• 


a  becoming  position  for  Hastings,  South- 
end  and  Brighton. 

Ed.  Well,  let  me  think.  "Yule-tiil. 
Afloat."  No  ;  too  suggestive  of  a  voyag< 
by  a  penny  steamboat.  Dear  met  l.f 
me  consider!  I  have  it!  "Christinas  b> 
the  Sea." 

Sub.  Capital,  Sir !  That  will  do  to  carrj 
us  on  at  any  rate  to  January. 

[Suggestion  adopted 

Nurseriana. 

Little  Chris.  Oh!  mamma,  mamma, 
baby's  moulted  again. 

M.unma.  Moulted  I  What  do  yov 
mean? 

Little  Chris.  Why,  he's  just  dropped 
another  tooth! 


244 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  27,  1897. 


A    VISION    OF    THE    FUTURE-PROPULSORY    EDUCATION. 

Little  Girl.  "  NUBJBE,  WILL  YOU  SFXAK  TO  BABY,  PLEASE  I    HE  's  NOT  WORKING  A  BIT  ! ' 


AMONG  THE  ROARING  FORTIES  j 

Or,  The  New  Menagerie  of  Letters. 

Omar  Khayydm  Club. 

DEAR  MB.  PUNCH, — There  is  a  widespread  feeling  among 
Persian  scholars  that  injustice  has  been  done  to  Mr.  LB  GALLI- 
ENNE.  I  am  not,  for  the  moment,  regarding  him  as  the  Expert 
in  Under  Linen,  nor  as  the  pensive  Narcissus  who  collapsed  before 
the  apparition  of  his  own  beauty.  Others,  perhaps  he  himself, 
will  vindicate  his  claims  in  these  attractive  roles.  It  is  as  one 
of  the  ardent  lovers  of  the  great  RUBAIYAT  that  I  speak.  Long 
dissatisfied  with  the  old-flavoured  rendering  of  FITZGERALD,  embar- 
rassed as  his  genius  was  by  a  disturbing  familiarity  with  the  actual 
Persian  language,  we  have  waited  patiently  for  a  poet  who 
would  give  us  our  OMAR  untainted  by  the  emasculating  ingredi- 
ents of  scholarship.  Such  a  godsend  we  at  length  find  in  Mr. 
LE  GALLIENNE.  Not  wholly  free  from  bondage,  for  he  has  fol- 
lowed FITZGERALD'S  scheme  of  quatrains  out  of  a  fine  deference 
for  tradition,  he  can  yet  revel  in  that  prancing  license  which  is 
only  given'  to  the  translator  who  is  absolutely  ignorant  of  his 
original.  If  his  courage  serve  his  as  well  as  his  innocence  of 
tongues,  we  shall  yet  look  for  new  and  nobler  renderings,  of 
HORACE,  say,  or  ANACREON,  or  ISAIAH,  to  which  a  knowledge  of 
Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew  respectively  contributes  no  distract- 
ing element,  Yours,  &c.,  A  MEMBBR  OP  THE  ABOVE. 

p.S. — By  the  way,  talking  of  HORACE,  I  disapprove  the  follow- 
ing version  of  Carm.  I.,  38  (Persicos  odi,  puer,  apparatus), 
given  in  the  liberal  manner  of  our  friend  : 

Reader,  I  hate  your  dim  pedantic  Pen-ian  ; 
I  want  no  wniff  of  OMAR'S  rose  divine ; 
The  essence  squeezed  from  good  FITZOBRALD'S  vers  on 
Contents  this  nose  of  mine. 

The  ancient  Muse — I  neither  know  nor  need  her 

Your  crib  (and  cribs  are  never  near  so  hard) 
Shall  amply  serve  the  taste  of  you,  my  reader, 
And  me,  your  bounding  bard  ! 

House  of  Correction. 
DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  will  just  settle  the  whole  matter  with  a 


stroke  of  the  pen.  From  any  Menagerie  Litteraire  of  mine  I 
would  exclude  all  those  who  write  with  the  definite  purpose  of 
saying  something.  Style  should  be  my  only  standard  :  abstract 
style  unfettered  by  sense.  Personally,  as  you  well  know,  I  write 
sense,  and  this  would  always  be  fatal  to  my  assumption  of  the 
crown  as  advertised.  Beginning,  therefore,  with  myself  (as  if  I 
were  actually  in  the  list),  I  eliminate  all  those  in  whose  work 
the  thing  said  is  of  more  value  than  the  manner  of  saying.  All 
critics  (even  Mr.  ARCHER)  must  go.  This  disposes  of  half  the 
h'st.  Away  with  all  historians,  away  with  most  novelists  (they 
are  sadly  purposeful),  away  with  poets  (those  who  mean  some- 
thing) and  dramatists  (who  are  never  literary,  though  Arma 
virumque  was  a  pretty  thing),  and  away  with  men  of  science  (I  beg 
pardon,  I  see  there  are  none  in  the  list).  BUSKIN  is  a  prophet; 
GLADSTONE,  I  understand,  is  a  politician ;  ARGYLL  is  a  Peer. 
Remain — Mr.  SWINBURNE,  Mrs.  MEYNELL,  Mr.  HENRY  JAMES. 
I  will  let  you  have  the  supplementary  thirty-seven  some  other  day. 

Yours,  &c.,        G.  B-RN-RD  SH-W. 
The  Moated  Hermitage. 

DEAR  SIR, — I  suppose  it  is  my  own  fault,  but  I  only  recognise 
two  names  out  of  the  whole  Forty.  Perhaps  I  am  behind 
the  age.  I  don't  really  care  for  anything  much  later  than 
ARISTOTLE  ;  though  I  sometimes  read  my  bit  of  Paradise  Lost  be- 
fore turning  in.  Is  MILTON  much  read  just  now  ? 

Yours,  LAUDATOR,  &c. 

Hawarden. 

DEAR  SIR,— Confessedly  not  insensible  to  the  interest  attach- 
ing, or  likely  to  attach,  to  the  projected  scheme  of  The  Schoolmaster 
at  Home,  to  a  discussion  of  which  you  have  generously  exposed 
the  pages  of  your  discriminating  journal,  you  will  comprehend 
the  reluctance  which  I  entertain,  in  my  present  comparatively 
advanced  stage  of  longevity,  to  allow  myself  to  be  insidiously  in- 
veigled into  argumentative  discussion  upon  any  debatable  topic 
or  topics,  whatever  that  topic  or  those  topics  may  happen,  in  the 
wise  and  incontrovertible  ordering  of  Providence,  to  be  or  not  to 
be.  This  fact  notwithstanding,  and  further,  in  defiance  of  the 
general  consensus  of  medical  authority,  I  am  moved  to  convey  to 
you  my  humble  appreciation  of  that  mature  judgment — not 


NOVBMDBB  27,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


245 


arrived  at,  I  may  well  believe,  without  great  and  conceivably 
painful  searching  of  the  heart  and  reins — which  has,  with  un- 
erring instinct ,  consigned  to  my  literary  achievements,  such  as 
they  are,  have  been,  and,  I  must  anticipate,  are  never  likely  to  be 
ag.iin,  a  position  within  measurable  distance  of  the  very  •ummit 
or  acme  of  distinction. 

To  this  s.iti.sfaction  I  confess  with  the  more  lively  candour,  in- 
asmuch as  1  have  from  time  to  time  been  the  victim  of  a  harras- 
ning  apprehension,  now  shown  to  be  causeless,  that  the  over- 
shadowing importance  of  the  part  played  by  me,  over  a  more 
than  ordinarily  extended  period  of  activity,  in  the  service  of  the 
nation's  parliaments,  might  obscure,  by  its  more  readily  cognisable 
appeal  to  the  popular  fancy,  those  excursive  operations  in  the 
field  of  literary  labour — limited  as  they  have  been  by  the  exigen- 
cies of  a  public  career  at  no  time  relieved  by  a  superflux  of 
leisure — in  which  I  seem  to  discover  my  most  abiding  claim  to 
the  approval  of  posterity. 

Tlic  argument  may  be  advanced  by  my  adversaries — for  such  a 
contention  I  do  not  shrink  to  prognosticate — that  I  have  seldom, 
to  borrow  a  phrase  from  the  terminology  of  forestry,  broken  fresh 
ground  in  literature  ;  that  I  have,  in  the  main,  but  translated  or 
conveyed  from  the  more  humane  of  ancient  letters,  if  I  have  not 
actually  inarched  through  rapine  and  plunder  to  the  attainment 
of  my  designs.  To  this  contention  I  will  reply  in  one  word — for 
tin-  hour  presses,  and  the  post-card,  of  a  pliable  consistency,  on 
which  I  forward  these  observations,  has  already  thrice  over  ac- 
quired the  similitude  of  a  palimpsest — that  it  is  not  only 
intelligible,  but  even  capable  of  demonstration,  that  a  sincere 
student  of  another's  work  may,  by  force  of  mental  detachment  anil 
abstraction  of  self,  so  far  merge  his  own  individuality  in  that  of 
the  object  of  his  veneration,  as,  in  the  evolution  of  time,  to  be- 
come positively  absorbed  in,  and  identified  with,  that  object. 

Conscious,  in  my  own  case,  of  the  development  of  some  such 
process,  not  materially  differing  in  kind  from  the  process  of 
metempsychosis,  the  conviction  has  been  resistlesslv  borne  home 
upon  me— and  the  warm  place  which  I  have  secured,  or,  to  speak 
precisely,  the  possession  of  which  has  been  of  late  days  emphati- 
cally confirmed,  in  the  heart  of  the  Greek  Ethnos  by  my  per- 
sonal, and.  as  the  issue  proved,  deplorable  intervention  in  that 
crisis  which  resulted  in  such  lamentably  bellicose  eventualities, 
has  only  tended  to  endorse  this  conviction — it  has,  I  repeat,  been 
irresistibly  borne  home  to  me,  that  I  am  the  actual  author  of  the 
so-called  Homeric  cycle  of  poems. 

I  might  add,  if  it  is  not  too  obviously  alien  to  the  foregoing 
assertion — that,  while  I  cannot  altogether  admit  my  approval  of 
the  inclusion,  so  close  to  my  own  name,  of  that  of  my  political 
opponent  and  late  supporter,  the  Duke  of  Argyll,  it  is  not  with- 
out gratification  and  an  impregnably-rooted  sense  of  the  justice 
of  thii  arrangement,  that  I  remark  to  how  relatively  low  a  position 
the  merits  of  humour,  as  exemplified  in  the  persons  of  Messrs. 
W.  8.  GILBERT  and  "  LEWIS  CARROLL,"  have  been  relegated. 
I  am,  Sir,        Your  obedient  servant,      W.  E.  GL-DST-NE. 
(Imperial  Wire.} 

Charivari  London  Unwarrantable  error  in  last  week's  wire  for 
mortal  verse  read  immortal  have  beheaded  delinquent  operator 
pheasants  plentiful  William  Potsdam. 

A  SEASONABLE  ARTICLE. 
(Contemplating  Yule-tide.) 

EDWIN  and  ANGELINA  lingered  by  the  sunlit  waves.  He  was 
wearing  a  suit  of  tweeds,  and  she  a  gown  of  muslin.  Their  cos- 
tumes were  those  they  had  adopted  in  the  height  of  summer. 

"  You  are  sure  you  are  warmly  clad  ?  "  he  suggested. 

"Too  warmly.  It  was  a  mistake  to  bring  this  thin,  diapha- 
nous-looking cloak.  I  told  you  I  would  not  want  it." 

"  My  darling,  you  cannot  be  too  careful,"  the  cousin  intime 
continued.  They  listened  to  the  songs  of  the  birds  and  gazed 
at  the  trees  as  the  new  leaves  showed  themselves  in  buds  upon 
the  branches.  She  put  up  her  en-tout-cas  to  ward  off  the  fierce 
rays  of  the  sun  ;  he  lay  on  the  shore,  throwing  pebbles  into 
the  sea. 

At  length  night  came  on,  and  the  moon  put  in  an  appearance. 

"I  greeted  you  with  the  old,  familiar  wish." 

"You  did,  dear,  and  I  returned  the  compliment." 

Then  they  entered  their  house,  and  began  to  discuss  the  cod, 
the  beef,  the  turkey,  the  mince-meat,  and  last  but  not  least  the 
holly-decked  plum-pudding.  She  arranged  the  summer  ornament 
in  the  fireplace,  and  he  opened  the  window. 

And  then  once  again  in  honour  of  the  festival  they  wished 
themselves  "  A  Merry  Christmas  and  a  Happy  New  Year." 

[Ye«,  all  very  well,  November  20,  but  by  the  time  this  appeari  we  may  be 
in  the  depths  of  an  old-fashioned  winter.— ED.] 


; 


COMPLIMENTARY. 

Brown.  "An,   SMITH,   LET  ME  INTRODUCE  YOU  TO  MR.   (.'AY LIT 

GOTT.       I  'M   SURE  YOU  ' VE   READ   HIS   FAMOUS    BOOKS  !  " 

Smith.  "N-N-No,  I'M  AFRAID  1  HAVEN'T  HAD  THE  PLEASURE." 
Brawn.  "On,  or  COURSE  YOU  HAVE,  MY  DEAR  FELLOW,  BUT  YOU'VE 
fonaoTT*if—  THAT'S  IT!" 


SOME  QUERIES  AND  SURMISES. 
(By  a  Man  an  the  Penny  'Bus,  on  passing  through  Kniyhtsbridge. ) 

WHY  have  the  local  authorities  so  carefully  selected  the  middle 
of  November  in  order  to  block  the  busiest  part  of  this  thorough- 
fare when  there  was  all  September  in  which  to  execute  the 
repairs? 

Are  they  laying  down  a  chicken-run  in  the  road  opposite 
Sloane  Street  ?  It  is  nicely  covered  with  a  thin  layer  of  gravel, 
and  railed  off,  and  only  seems  to  be  waiting  for  a  few  barn-door 
fowl  or  live-stock  of  some  kind. 

Or  perhaps  these  bunkers  indicate  that  the  occupants  of  the 
Hyde  Park  Club  are  going  to  start  a  private  golf-links  in  the 
middle  of  the  street.  We  shall  soon  have  lost  the  right  of  way 
over  these  solitudes. 

Query,  by  Rule  of  Three,  if  two  British  workmen,  pottering 
over  the  job  for  the  usual  number  of  hours  a  day,  and  consuming 
the  regulation  amount  of  beer,  take  more  than  three  weeks  in 
repairing  the  hundred  yards  section  at  Albert  Gate,  bow  long, 
more  or  less,  will  Piccadilly  be  "up,"  and  how  many  citizens' 
tempers  will  be  lost  in  the  period  P 

\\fay  don't  they  put  on  a  night  shift  ?  Is  it  because  they  are 
afraid  of  disturbing  the  sleep  of  the  rude  forefathers  (or  the 
present  fathers)  of  the  hamlet  of  K  night  abridge  ? 

What  do  they  know  of  London  who  only  Knightsbridge  know  ? 
At  any  rate,  we  are  extending  our  knowledge,  as  we  are  being 
driven  down  by-lanes  and  purlieus  at  the  instance  of  the  ubiqui- 
tous and  leisurely  rond-repnirvrs,  who  seem  to  be  determined  to 
give  us  an  object-lesson  in  the  noble  art  of  How  not  to  Do  It. 


246 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  27,  1897. 


INCURABLE. 

First  Rustic.  "WELL,  BOR,  AN'  HOW  AUE  YE  TO-DAY?" 

Second  Ditto.    "  OH  !  I  DON'T  KNOW  HOW  TO  GIT  ALONG.      I  HA'  GOT  THE  RHRUMATIZ  IN 

MY   LEFT    LEO,    AN'   A   BAD  COUGH,    AN*    I   DON'T  FARE   UP  TO   MUCH." 

First  Ditto.   "AH,   BOR,  I  KNOW  WOT  'a  TUE  MATTER  wi'  YEW.     ANXO  DOMINI — THAT'.- 

WOT   BE  THE   MATTER   Wi'    YHW  1" 


THE  SCHOOL  BOARD  ELECTION  VAOE 
MECUM. 

(At  the  Service  of  both  Moderates 
and  Progressives. ) 

Question.  You  take   an  interest  in   the 
School-Board  election  ? 

Answer.  Naturally,  as  the  amount  of  our 
rates  depends  upon  its  result. 

Q.  You  are  in  favour  of  maintaining  the 
efficiency  of  the  teachers? 

A.  Yes  ;   if  it  can  be  accomplished  with- 
out sacrificing  the  interest  of  our  pockets. 

Q.  And    you    would    not    reduce    their 
number  ? 

A.  No  ;    if  the  number  could  be  main- 
tained at  less  expense. 

Q.   And  you  would  have  sufficient  school 
houses  ? 

A .  Certainly  ;    but  not  greater  expendi- 
ture. 

Q.  Are  there,  in  your  opinion,  too  many 
of  these  institutions? 


A.  Yes  and  no.  Of  course,  the  supplx 
ought  to  keep  pace  with  the  demand,  bu: 
then  the  demand  should  not  be  satisfies 
on  a  false  basis. 

Q.  Is  that  not  a  complicated  reply  ? 

A.  It  is;  but  that  is  no  uncommoi 
thing  with  matters  connected  with  thi 
School  Board. 

Q.  Well,  is  it  not  possible  to  make  tht 
answer  plainer — by  example,  for  instance ; 

A.  If  there  is  an  increase  of  seven  hun- 
dred scholars,  it  seems  extravagant  to 
secure  accommodation  for  seven  thousand. 

Q.  But  that  is  not  the  universal  opinion: 

A.  No,  it  is  not;  for  non-ratepayer 
have  no  objection  to  expenditure  to  whicl 
they  do  not  contribute. 

Q.  I  presume  that  this  would  be  the 
opinion  of  the  Moderates  ? 

A.  Yes;  but  human  nature  is  humar 
nature,  and  most  people  like  to  be  chari 
table  when  they  can  display  the  virtue 
without  cost  or  inconvenience. 


Q.  And  what  is  your  view  of  the  reli- 
gious difficulty  ? 

A.  That  it  is  a  difficulty,  and  as  such, 
better  avoided. 

Q.  But  cannot  a  compromise  be  secured 
acceptable  to  both  Moderates  and  Progres- 
sives ? 

A.  Yes,  if  the  principle  of  Free  Trade  in 
commerce  is  extended  to  Free  Trade  in 
belief. 

Q.  Is  not  the  present  contest  causing  an 
immense  amount  of  excitement  and  work  ? 

A.  It  is,  amongst  women  as  well  as  men. 

Q.  Is  it  not  creating  a  good  deal  of  ill- 
will? 

A.  Unquestionably,  converting  neigh- 
bours iuto  strangers  by  the  score  and  the 
hundred. 

Q.  And  whichever  side  wins,  what  is  the 
probable  result  ? 

A.  That  the  School-Board  rate  of  the 
next  three  years  will  be  as  great  as,  if  not 
greater  than,  the  three  years  preceding 
tii  em. 


DARBY  JONES  AT  MANCHESTER. 

HONOURED  SIR, — We  all  know  Cottono- 
polis, with  its  Megatherium  red-brick 
warehouses,  and  its  countless  Trollies  filled 
with  those  fabrics  which  are  as  acceptable 
to  the  wily  Hindoo  as  they  are  to  the 
humble  Hottentot. 

All !  Sir,  what  grief  it  was  to  me 
when  I  saw  my  old  friend  and  favourite, 
the  Jersey  Man  uf  the  Sea  relegated  to 
cough-drops  and  water-gruel,  and  com- 
pelled to  forego  his  Certain  Engagement 
at  Liverpool.  But  such  is  the  way  of  the 
Racing  World.  At  one  moment  the  Noble 
Animal  is  rushing  ahead  like  a  runaway 
Motor-cab  ;  at  another  he  is  as  useless  as  a 
Tricycle  which  has  collided  with  a  Tram- 
car.  But  let  us  to  rhyme  and  reason ! — 

Despite  his  weight  beware  tlu'  C'ottnt, 

The  Saint  do  not  forget,  Sir, 
And  it  may  be  the  Yankee's  mount 

Some  Money  will  upset,  Sir. 
But  I  prefer  the  Burning  Auk, 

Or  else  the  nimble  Nnn,  Sir, 
With  Aster  Girl  to  make  the  (lush 

That  tells  the  race  is  won,  Sir. 

I  beg  you  to   note,  honoured  Sir,  that 
my    exclusive    intelligence    wired    to    you 
from   Derby*   should   doubly   enhance   the 
value  at  which  you  estimate  services  of 
Your  leal  and  limber  runner-up, 

DARBY  JONES. 

*  The  only  communication  received  from  DARBY 
JUNES  when  at  Derby  was  a  request  to  telegraph 
him  £10.  We  never  telegraph  anything  except 
reminders  that  copy  is  late,  as  D.  J.  well  knows. — 
ED. 


FALSE  FOOTSTEPS. 

[The  North  British  Daily  Mail  states  that  work- 
men employed  by  the  Cantonal  Council  of  Vaud 
have  effaced  the  marks  of  BONNIVAHD'S  footsteps 
from  the  floor  of  the  Castle  of  Chillon,  but  that  these 
same  footsteps  had,  according  to  the  surveyor's  re- 
port, been  renewed  every  few  years.] 

0  BONNIVARD  !      O   BONNIVARD  I 

When  under  lock  and  key  and  guard, 
From  outer  intercourse  close  barred, 
With  ev'ry  prospect  blurred  and  marred, 
We  thought  your  boots  were  passing  hard. 
Indeed,  they  must  have  had  a  drill  on 
To  perforate  the  stones  of  Chillon  1 
But  now  the  tourist-tip  purveyor 
Must  yield  the  feet  to  the  surveyor  1 


SUGGESTED  NAME  FOR  A  MAN  OF  LETTERS 
-Mr.  BERNARD  COCK-SHAW. 


PUNCH,    OH   THK    LONDON    CIIAKI VAKI.— NOVEMBKK  27,   1897. 


St. 


THE   MARQUIS  AND  THE   MUNICIPAL   MONSTER. 

SALISBUBY  FRANKENSTEIN.  "SOBRY  I  EVER  PUT  YOU  TOGETHER,  YOU  GREAT  HULKING  BOOBY!     BUT     : 
JUST  YOU  WAIT  A  BIT.     I'LL  SOON  TAKE  YOU  TO  PIECES  AGAIN!" 


NOVKMBKB  27,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


249 


TRIALS    OF    A    NOVICE. 

Passing  Cabby.  "Grv'NOE,  YOVK  STYLE  'B  ALL  WWIBY  mo»  IN  A.  Foo,  BUT  IT  's  A  NOOSANC*  IN  TBAFKIO  I" 


TOBY,  M.P.  S  PARLIAMENTARY  GUIDE. 

IV. 

Omna  into  Committee  of  Supply. — The 
flang  Parliamentary  term  for  going  to 
dinner. 

Laying  Papers. — A  Minister  who  knows 
his  place  and  respects  it,  never  promises 
(or  declines)  to  lay  papers  "on  the  Table 
of  the  House."  He  always  says  he  will 
(or  will  not)  "lay  Papers"— as  if  they 
were  eggs. 


Eyes  to  the  Right,  Nose  to  the  Left. 

Eyes  to  the  Right,  Nose  to  the  left.— As 
soon  as  the  House  is  cleared  for  a  division, 
the  new  Member  will  hear  the  Speaker 
issuing  this  injunction.  It  seems  on  the 
face  of  it  difficult,  and,  as  tending  to  sound 
legislation  and  good  government,  super- 
fluous. But  a  little  steady  practice  before 
a  good  glass  will  soon  place  the  new  Mem- 
ber on  a  footing  of  equality  with  old 


stagers,  who  instinctively  perform  the  facial 
contortion  as  they  nse  to  go  out  to  a 
division. 

Beading  a  Bill  o  Third  Time.— The 
House,  more  especially  towards  the  end  of 
a  Session,  grows  a-weary,  and  is  anxious 
chiefly  to  shorten  proceedings,  go  that  it 
may  get  oil  for  the  holidays.  Hence  it 
comes  to  pass  that  comparatively  tew  Bills 
are  read  a  third  time.  As  the  reader  of  the 
Parliamentary  report  knows,  when  August 
1'2  approaches,  they  are  thrown  out  wtiole- 
sale.  ()t  course,  when  anyone  has  read  a 
literary  work  twice,  it  must  be  very  at- 
tractive indeed  to  make  him  desire  to  read 
it  a  third  time.  It  is  on  record  that  a  lady 
read  Clarissa  a  fourth  time.  At  least,  so 
she  (Miss  MAKGAKET  COI.UEHI  assured 
RICHARDSON  in  a  letter  included  in  the 
author's  published  correspondence.  But 
the  lady  has  since  died. 

The  moral  for  the  young  Member  is  to 
spare  no  pains  to  make  his  Bill  attractive. 
Style,  deftness  of  construction,  interest  of 
plot,  are  each  and  all  desirable  to  this  end. 
Failing  capacity  in  this  direction,  a  few 
stories  included  in  the  Schedule  of  the  Bill 
have  a  good  effect.  But  they  must  not  be 
mques. 

The  Twelve  o'Clock  Bule.—A.t  a  rule,  at 
12  o'clock  P.M.,  it  is  midnight.  This  is, 
indeed,  a  rule  without  exception.  Hence 
the  Twelve  o'Clock  Rule. 

The  Order*  of  the  Day.— Obscurity  about 
the  real  meaning  of  this  phrase  arises  from 
debased  orthography.  In  the  journals  of 
the  House  tempo  the  Long  Parliament,  it 


will  be  found  correctly  spelled  The  Orders 
of  the  Dey.  Tunis  was  at  that  time  an 
important  State,  and  the  reigning  Dey 
endeavoured  to  ingratiate  himself  by  Lavish 
distribution  of  Orders — for  the  theatre,  for 
the  Zoological  Gardens  on  Sundays,  occa- 
sionally for  light  refreshments. 

It  will  be  observed  that  in  modern  time* 
the  Sultan   has  attempted  to   revive   the 


"  The  Orden  of  the  Day. 


custom.    But  no  one  except  SILOMIO 
to  care  to  take  his  Orden. 


At  the  Board-School  Lecture. 

Professor  MeCrobe.  And  now,  where  do 
you  suppose  germs  are  originated  t 

Overtmart  Lad  (promptly).  In  Germany, 
Sir!  [Laughter,  cheen  and—tean. 


250 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  27,  1897. 


READY-MADE    COATSC-OF-ARMS);   OR,   GIVING   'EM    FITS! 

ME.  JUSTICE  D-KL-NQ  OF  DEPTFORD. 

Arms  :  Quarterly ;  1st,  on  a  bench  tory  under  a  chapeau-de-soie  glossy  a  mannikin  caustic  and 
mordant  in  retort ;  2nd,  a  ground-plan  proper  of  guidance  of  the  royal  courts  i.f  justice  (enabling  a  com- 
plete stranger  to  find  his  way  proper  to  Ms  own  court) ;  3rd,  a  fountain  of  honour  spotted  and  displayed 
proper  on  the  hop ;  4th,  on  a  ground  shady  to  the  last  several  old  hands  barry  passed  orer  rampant. 
Crest :  A  legal  spark  (or  "scintilla  juris")  dapper inhis  glory  elevated  ermine.  Supporters:  Dexter,  the 
junior  b'ar  wigged  and  gowned  rampant  in  frenzy ;  sinister,  the  senior  b'ar  similarly  enfuriated  arrayed 
silk  for  difference. 


THE  MISSING  METEORS 

Which  failed  to  put  in  an  appearance  mi  Nov.  15. 

ON  Sunday  night  with  wakeful  eye 
And  upturned  gaze  I  swept  the  sky  ; 
I  waited  up  till  nearly  two, 
Until  my  nose  and  all  was  blue  I 

Astronomers  had  prophesied 
They  would  a  wondrous  sight  provide ; 
They  advertised  in  Star  and  Sun, 
That,  if  we  looked,  we  'd  see  some  fun. 

They  wrote,  those  learned  men,  a  lot 

About  a  certain  radiant  spot 

In  Leo.  where  the  Leonids 

Come  from — we  took  it  in  like  kids  I 

They  told  us  that  the  meteor-train 
Was  booked  to  strike  the  earth  again  : 
In  '66  'twas  going  strong, 
Three  million  miles  and  more  'twas  long. 

But  on  the  sky-line  all  I  viewed 
Was  two  tom-cats  in  deadly  feud  ; 
I  saw  no  fire-ball,  but  they  got 
A  makeshift  missile  pretty  hot  1 

The  net  result  is,  we  were  sold, 
And  I  Ve  a  most  emphatic  cold  ; 
Next  year  the  sky  may  blaze  o'erhead — 
I  '11  comfortably  snooze  in  bed  I 


In   the  Midlands. 

Bdated  Hunting  Man  (to  Native).  Can 
you  kindly  point  out  the  way  to  the  "  Fox 
and  Cock  Inn  "  ? 

Native.  D'ye  mean  the  "Barber's 
Arms  "  ? 

B.  H.  M.  No,  the  "  Fox  and  Cock"  I 

Native.  Well,  that 's  what  we  call  the 
"  Barber's  Arms." 

B.  H.  M.  Why  so? 

Native  (with  a  hoarse  laugh).  Well, 
ain't  the  "  Fox  and  Cock  "  the  same  as  the 
"  Brush  and  Comb  "  ? 

[Vanishes  into  the  gloaming,  leaving  the  B.  H.  if. 
muttering  those  words  which  are  not  asso- 
ciated with  benediction,  while  he  iccufilij 
passes  on  his  way. 


OUR   BOOKING-OFFICE. 

The  Letters  of  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning  (SMITH,  ELDER) 
make  a  good  book  spoiled  for  lack  of  good  editing.  If  it  had  been  one 
volume  instead  of  two.  it  would  have  been  a  delightful  possession. 
As  it  is,  my  Baronite  finds,  in  a  sentence  in  which  Mrs.  BROWNING 
gave  her  opinion  upon  Mary  Barton,  an  accurate  judgment  of 
the  work.  "There  is  power  and  truth,"  Mrs.  BROWNING,  in 
critical  mood,  wrote  about  this  forgotten  novel,  "  but  I  wish  half 
the  book  away,  it  is  so  tedious  every  now  and  then."  Mr. 
KENYON'S  devotion  to  the  subject  of  his  work  has  fatally  marred 
its  execution.  He  shovels  in  every  scrap  of  correspondence 
sanctified  by  his  idol's  signature.  This  is  bad  enough  to  begin 
with,  but  when  the  baby  is  born,  the  condition  of  the  conscienti- 
ous reader  becomes  hopeless.  Penini,  the  pet  name  of  this  phe- 
nomenon, from  the  day  of  his  birth  to  the  close  of  the  last 
volume,  appears  on  nearly  every  page.  How  he  looked,  what  he 
ate,  what  he  said,  and  what  other  people  said  of  him — all  set 
forth  in  pitiless  detail.  This  is  sad,  but  if  the  reader  skips  many 
of  the  letters  at  the  opening  of  the  first  volume  and  dodges  Penini 
throughout  the  second,  he  will  find  his  reward.  Mrs.  BROWNING'S 
prose  is  even  better  than  her  poetry.  She  can  picture  an  Alpine 
scene,  and  describe  a  man  or  woman  in  a  single  flashing  sentence. 
The  rare  beauty  of  her  character  is  disclosed  in  her  bearing  to- 
ward a  father  who,  if  there  be  such  a  thing  as  transmigration  of 
souls,  is  at  this  moment  capering  round  somewhere  in  his  proper 
shape  as  a  mule.  He  deliberately  did  his  brutal  worst  to  wreck 
his  gifted  daughter's  life.  For  him  through  it  all  she  breathes 
no  word  save  of  almost  passionate  affection.  As  a  proof  of  Mrs. 
BROWNING'S  sound  judgment,  this  extract  from  a  letter  dated 
October  5,  1844,  will  serve:  "Do  you  take  in  Punch?  If  not, 
you  ought.  Mr.  KENYON  and  I  agreed  the  other  day  that  we 


should  be  more  willing  to  take  our  politics  from  Punch  than  from 
any  other  of  the  newspaper  oracles." 

CABSELL  &  Co.  in  their  publication,  The  Magazine  of  Art,  pre- 
sent one  of  the  most  interesting  gift-books  of  the  year.  The 
same  firm  insinuatingly  leads  the  little  ones  into  Micky  Magee's 
Menagerie,  by  S.  H.  HAMER,  comically  illustrated  by  HARRY 
NEILSON,  a  wonderland  that  never  fails  to  captivate  the  fancy 
of  the  very  youthful  student  of  unnatural  history. 

The  Story  of  Edison,  by  FRANK  MUNDELL  (JARROLD  AND  SONS), 
tells  in  chatty  style  how  this  brilliant  genius  from  a  simple  paper- 
boy on  an  American  train  became  the  greatest  scientific  dis- 
coverer— our  modern  edition  of  Aladdin  and  his  wonderful 
electric-light  lamp. 

A  delightful  continuation  of  his  Roman  Series  is  The  Corleone 
(MAOMILLAN  &  Co.),  by  Mr.  MARION  CRAWFORD.  The  reader's 
interest  in  the  story?  roused  at  the  commencement,  grows  in 
intensity  as  the  plot  is  artistically  developed  to  its  climax.  Mr. 
CRAWFORD'S  pictures  of  Italian  scenery  are  perfect,  and  his  cha- 
racters, belonging  to  the  Roman  Society,  with  which  he  has 
familiarised  us  in  so  many  of  his  books,  are  living  beings  before 
our  eyes. 

The  Baron,  after  reading  The  Plattner  Story,  and  others 
(METHTTEN  &  Co.),  by  H.  G.  WELLS,  cannot  conscientiously,  and 
he  is  either  conscientious  or  nothing,  even  if  not  much  at  that, 
advise  his  friends  "to  let  WELLS  alone."  Very  much  the  con- 
trary, let  them  go  to  the  Wells  and  draw  thence  a  sparkling  supply 
of  amusement.  The  author  who  can  provide  us  with  short  stories 
of  genuine  humour  comes  as  a  boon  and  a  blessing  to  hard-work- 
ing men,  who  have  not  time  to  sit  down  to  the  absorbing  novel 
in  one,  two,  or  three  volumes. 

THK  BAEON  DB  B.-W. 


NOVEMBER  27,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


251 


HOPELESS. 

Sir  Charles.  "  NOT  UNDERSTAND  THE   DIFFERENCE   BETWEEN   CONVEX   AND   CONCAVE  ?    I  WILL  TRY  AND  EXPLAIN.     CONVEX  is 

LIKK   THE   OUTSIDF,   CURVE  OF  AN   UMBRELLA   OPENED.      THE   INSIDE   VlEW   WOULD  BE  CONCAVR." 

Aline.  "I  SEE.     BUT  HOW  WOULD  THAT  BE  WITH  A  PARASOL!" 


LETTERS    TO    THE    CELEBRATED. 

No.  IV. — To  THE  GERMAN  EMPEROR. 

Sin, — I  notice  that  in  the  Empire  which  you  attempt  to 
govern  with  much  bombast  and  lack  of  discretion  the  crime  of 
MW-nuuuM  has  of  late  assumed  a  considerable  prominence.  Care- 
ful and  cunning  journalists  have  found  that  it  is  useless  to  wrap 
up  distant  allusions  to  your  Imperial  aberrations  in  a  historical 
essay  on  the  aberrations  of  CALIOULA,  the  megalomaniac ;  while 
politicians  who  imagined  that  their  position  secured  them  from 
attack  discovered  too  late,  when  they  languished  in  a  dungeon, 
that  the  regis  vnlvntas.  which  is  in  Germany  the  suprema  lex,  had 
arbitrarily  ordained  their  punishment  for  offences  due  to  your 
own  imperial  perversity.  Well,  Sir,  I  am  about,  I  suppose,  tc 
commit  lese-majeste  to  a  large  extent ;  but  as  I  run  no  risk  of 
sufferingj  I  am  not  inclined  to  consider  myself  on  that  account 
as  a  specially  daring  man.  Still,  it  is  well  that  somewhere,  if  not 
in  the  journals  of  your  own  land,  you  should  be  able  to  see  your- 
self as  others  see  you,  to  digest  in  the  privacy  of  your  own 
chamber,  without  any  disturbing  thoughts  of  a  possible  prosecu- 
tion, the  candid  views  of  an  impartial  looker  on.  This  privilege 
I  propose  to  afford  you. 

Sir,  you  are  no  longer  a  young  man.  Time,  the  arch  tyrant, 
deals  capriciously  with  his  subjects.  To  some  it  is  permitted  to 
retain  far  into  middle  age  the  insignia  of  slim  and  joyous  youth. 
To  others  arc  awarded  the  marks  of  age  long  before  they  begin  in 
reality  to  slide  down  the  hill  of  life.  You  have,  I  admit,  fared 
not  otherwise  than  well  at  his  hands.  For  a  long  period  you  have 
been  able,  by  means  of  tight  tunics  and  a  marble  expression  of 
face,  to  defy  the  inroads  of  the  enemy,  and  those  who  saw  you 
prance  and  bound,  and  heard  you  shout  and  bluster,  who  watched 
your  astounding  feats  on  the  telegraph,  and,  if  they  honoured 
your  name  and  rank,  were  forced  to  tremble  when  they  considered 


the  next  place  of  your  breaking  out,  were  able  at  any  rate  to 
excuse  you  to  themselves  and  the  world  at  large  on  the  ground 
that  you  were  a  mere  boy.  But  all  that  is  now  past.  \\e  have 
all  seen  your  latest  photograph :  it  was  reproduced  in  our  own 
picture-papers  in  all  its  rotund  and  sporting  splendour.  There, 
posed  at  the  side  of  the  kind,  grey  Emperor  of  Austria,  we  saw 
you,  no  longer  slim,  no  longer  youthful,  but  adipose  and  puffy 
and  protuberant,  girthed  round  as  to  your  middle  with  a  hunting- 
bolt  that  only  served  to  make  two  prominences  where  one  had 
sufficed,  and  wearing  on  your  head  a  hat  that  suited  strangely 
with  the  un-Tyrolean  aspect  of  your  countenance  and  your  figure. 
It  was  the  picture  of  one  who  has  liked  himself  and  his  food  too 
much  for  too  many  years.  It  was  emphatically  not  the  picture 
of  :\  youth. 

Such  a  vision,  Sir,  makes  a  change  in  one's  views.  Formerly  I 
imagined  that  throughout  Germany,  and  from  time  to  time  in 
Russia,  Austria,  or  in  Italy,  an  imperial  but  soaringly  human  boy 
was  lifting  his  glass  and  crying,  "HoeA/  Hoch !  Hoch!  "  amid 
the  clatter  of  swords  and  the  admiring  shouts  of  a  profusely- 
decorated  soldiery.  Now  I  know  that  a  stout  gentleman  is  doing 
these  things,  and  reducing  his  hearers  to  an  abyss  of  melancholy 
at  his  dismal  failure  in  dignity.  A  boy  who  played  fantastic 
tricks  with  the  telegraph-wires  incurred  but  a  mild  censure. 
What  shall  be  said  of  a  middle-aged  and  pompous  party  whose 
pleasure  it  is  to  play  practical  jokes  that  set  two  nation*  by 
(lie  cars? 

Yours  is  a  great  inheritance,  greatly  won  by  heroic  deeds. 
Your  people  are  by  nature  the  mildest  and  most  loyal,  and  by 
tradition  and  education  the  most  thoughtful,  in  Europe.  But 
mild  and  loyal  at  they  are  their  minds  must  rise  in  revolt  against 
a  sovereign  who  reproduces  in  the  crudest  form  the  stale  theories 
of  divine  right  and  arbitrary  government,  whose  one  notion  of 
administration  is  to  increase  his  stupendous  military  forces  by 


252 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[NOVEMBER  27,  1897. 


A    DOUBTFUL    DIANA. 

The  Master.  "Doss  THAT  NEW  HORSE  JUMP,  Miss  NERVES  ?"  Miss  Nerves.  "THEY  SAT  NOT.     BUT  I  AM  AFRAID  HE  MAY  I" 


taxation  while  diminishing  the  number  of  his  reasonable  critics 
by  imprisonment.  You  have  travelled,  cocked  hat  in  hand,  to 
capital  after  capital,  you  have  dismissed  BISMARCK,  you  have 
made  yourself  into  the  tin  god  of  a  great  monarchy,  you  have 
shouted,  reviewed,  toasted,  speechified,  you  have  donned  a  thou- 
sand different  uniforms,  you  have  dabbled  in  the  drama,  you  have 
been  assisted  in  the  design  of  allegorical  cartoons,  you  have  com- 
posed hymns  to  &gir,  and  Heaven  knows  how  many  others-^-and 
to-day  the  result  of  all  your  restless  and  misdirected  energies  is 
thafc  you  have  added  not  only  to  your  army  but  also  to  the  foreign 
ill-wishers  of  your  country  and  to  her  internal  distractions.  And 
at  this  moment,  in  spite  of  the  millions  of  men  and  money  that 
go  to  form  her  army,  Germany  is  weaker  than  she  has  been  at 
any  moment  since  the  Empire  was  proclaimed  at  Versailles.  This 
feat,  Sir,  you  have  accomplished,  and  such  credit  as  attaches  to 
it  is  yours  alone.  Where  and  how  do  you  propose  to  end? 

Yours  as  sincerely  as  may  be,  THE  VAGRANT. 


CALLS  TO  ARMS. 

(Latent  Collection  oj  Opinions. ) 

Address — Army  and  Navy  Club. — Of  course  revive  the  Militia 
ballot.  Never  ought  to  have  been  allowed  to  drop.  Good  pro- 
vision for  the  service,  Sir.  As  for  the  volunteers — pooh,  Sir, 
pooh !  Army  ought  to  be  six  times  as  large.  Then  I  and  my 
contemporaries  might  have  a  look  in.  What's  the  use  of  a  lot 
of  Johnnies  of  fifteen,  and  generals  of  fifty.  Want  the  seasoned 
article,  Sir,  want  the  seasoned  article. — MAJOR — AGED  SIXTY. 

Address — Minerva,  Villa,  Clapham. — Quite  another  opening  for 
women.  Soldiers  could  be  easily  replaced  by  Amazons.  It  has 
been  done  before.  Even  the  uniform  might  be  modified  to  allow 
of  the  divided  skirt  and  other  improvements.  And  as  to  cam- 
paigning, that  might  be  as  easily  managed  as  a  game  of  chess.  Only 
have  to  settle  rules  of  the  game.  Cavalry  retire  on  approach  of 
artillery  and  that  kind  of  thing.  Certainly  the  army  would  be  a 
splendid  opening  for  women — if  they  would  do  away  with  the 
fighting. — SPINSTER. 


Address — Portsmouth. — Why  not  leave  matters  as  they  are? 
Thin  red  line  and  that  sort  of  thing.  Of  course,  the  fleet  will 
keep  off  the  enemy.  If  it  doesn't,  why,  the  sooner  it 's  over  the 
better.  Army  fine  service,  but  it 's  no  use  increasing  it  indefi- 
nitely. The  navy  is  the  thing,  Sir.  There  's  nothing  like  iron. 

ADMIRAL. 

Address — Upper  Middleclassington  Eoad,  Tooting. — Of  course, 
patriotism  is  all  very  well,  but  how  about  the  rates  and  taxes? 
All  nonsense  about  payment  for  insurance.  Of  course,  if  there 
were  an  invasion,  the  nation  would  rise  like  one  man.  Have  done 
it  before,  would  do  it  again.  So  it 's  folly  to  talk  about  increasing 
the  Army  Estimates.  Can't  really  afford  it — can't  really  afford  it. 

PATERFAMILIAS  . 

Address — 85,  Fleet  Street. — Enough  talk.  Action  is  wanted. 
Delay  is  dangerous.  British  Empire  can't  stand  still  when  the 
rest  of  the  world  is  moving.  The  order  of  the  day  is  "  Forward !  " 
— not "  As  you  were  !  "  Entire  British  race,  "  Attention  I  " 

PUNCH. 


ANOTHER  BIT  OF  MR.  PUNCH'S  UP-TO-DATE  ADVICE  TO  THOSE 
ABOUT  TO  arcr  MARRIED. — Do  I  And  do  as  everyone  does  nowa- 
days. Send  out  invitations  from  3  to  4.30.  Ask  everybody  you 
have  ever  known.  Collar  tons  of  presents,  and  in  return  for 
their  charity,  give  your  generous  guests — biscuits,  bread-and- 
butter,  and  (if  you  wish  to  be  extra  liberal)  mustard-and-cress 
sandwiches,  washed  down  by  tea,  coffee,  and  a  little  light  '97 
champagne,  to  be  kept  in  background  by  a  few  well-dressed 
hired  waiters  who  know  their  business. 


MEM.  FROM  THE  MONET  MARKET.— Pint  Needy  Capitalist. 
Klondyke  is  a  real  Tom  Tiddler's  ground!  Unsophisticated  Victim. 
Well,  I  hope  that  you  gentlemen  have  made  your  fortunes.  First 
N.  C.  Not  exactly.  You  see,  the  journeys  to  and  fro  eat  up  all 
our  capital  for  the  time  being.  Eh,  hoys?  (Murmurs  of  appro- 
val from  the  Second  and  Third  N.  C.'i,  during  which  the  Uns<phisti- 
cated  acts  ihe  host.) 


4,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


I6S* 


RESEARCHES    IN    ANCIENT    SPORTS. 

THE  GREAT  FIGHT  BETWEEN  SULLIVANU.S  AND  PEULARI  PALMERIVS  AT  THE  SUPKRBUS  SPORTING  CLUB. 


LETTERS  TO  THE  CELEBRATED. 

No.  V.— To  THE  RT.  Hox.  ARTHUR  JAMES  BALFOUR,  M.P. 

MY  DEAR  SIR,— As  I  strolled  along  Pall  Mall  or  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  Palace  at  Westminster,  nttcio  quid  meditan!i 
nugarum,  it  has  occasionally  been  my  good  fortune  to  meet  a  tall 
figure  sedately  and  delicately  pacing  in  the  opposite  direction. 
The  gait,  indeed,  was  almost  languid,  the  head  hung  but  loosely 
on  the  shoulders,  and  the  face,  small  in  proportion  to  the 
attenuated  length  of  body  and  limbs,  wore  a  pale  air  of  detached 
absorption  suited  to  a  temperament  at  once  poetical  and  philo- 
sophic. The  clothes  carried  by  this  slow  walker  might  not  have 
passed  the  exacting  muster  of  the  Tailor  and  Cutter,  that 
Argus-eyed,  sartorial  authority  whose  young  men  criticise  with 
an  equal  freedom  the  painted  trousers  of  statesmen  at  the  Royal 
Academy  show,  and  tie  double-breasted  frock-coat  of  the  Duke 
of  YORK  disembarking  in  Ireland.  Still  the  clothes  had  about 
them  a  neglectful  looseness  of  fit,  an  exuberance  of  folds  that 
seemed  to  suit  a  roan  of  thought,  a  philosopher,  let  us  say,  or  a 
poet  engaged  upon  the  uncongenial  task  of  exercising  his  limbs  in 
the  open  air.  It  was  not  without  an  effort,  then,  that  I  realised 
that  this  figure  was  you,  a  statesman,  a  man  of  action,  an 
undaunted  fighter;  a  man,  in  short,  who,  whatever  else  his 
opponents  might  say  of  him,  was  acknowledged  by  them  and  by 
his  friends  to  have  faced,  with  a  rigid  determination  and  a  com- 
plete success,  the  fiercest  onslaughts  of  the  Irishry  and  their 
Liberal  allies  during  the  stormy  years  from  1887  onward. 

And  yet,  Sir,  are  you  sure  that  you  have  chosen  the  bettei 
part — better,  I  mean,  not  merely  for  yourself,  but  for  those  who 
admire  your  many  qualities  of  heart  and  head  ?  I  know  that  your 
political  record,  if  I  may  use  the  expression,  is  a  brilliant  one. 
Your  party  owes  much  to  you.  You  steered  their  barque  safely 
amidst  wave-swept  rocks  marked  with  many  a  wreck.  Your 
example  of  imperturbable  courage  inspired  them  in  anxious  times  ; 
your  high-bred,  polished  courtesy  has  often  been  the  delight  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  where  men  are  glad  to  recognise  that 
determination  and  vigour  do  not  exclude  good  manners,  tolerance 
and  politeness  towards  the  foe.  I  know,  too,  that  it  is  easy  and, 


perhaps,  fatuous  to  say  of  successful  men  that,  had  they  turned 
their  energies  into  a  different  channel,  their  success  would  have 
been  greater  and  more  striking.  Thus  Mr.  JOHN  BRIGHT  has 
been  described  as  a  prize-fighter  wasted,  Mr.  GLADBTONB  as  a 
Prince  of  the  Church  in  the  guise  of  a  political  leader,  and  the 
Archbishop  of  CANTERBURY  as  a  Field-Marshal  in  black  gaiters 
and  lawn  sleeves.  On  the  whole,  I  think  it  '»  better  to  believe 
that  men  as  a  rule  pursue  the  careers  for  which  they  are  best 
fitted,  and  if  ROGERS,  for  instance,  had  never  been  a  banker,  I 
doubt  if  the  stock  of  the  world's  great  poetry  would  have  been 
sensibly  increased.  And  so  it  is  probably  with  you.  You  engage 
in  politics  because  politics  provide  for  your  mind  the  zest  it 
requires,  because  you  have  found  that  in  politics  your  energies 
find  their  best  and  broadest  scope.  And  yet  I  cannot  forbear  t< 
speculate  on  what  might  have  been.  For  you  can  think  and  can 
write.  You  have  the  gift  of  style ;  you  wield  a  piercing  dialect 
rapier;  philosophic  speculation  fascinates  you ;  you  are  literary, 
musical,  sympathetic.  Do  these  qualities  find  their  best  arena  in 
the  turmoil  of  politics?  Can  they  match  themselves  successfully 
in  the  long  run  against  the  vulgar  blatancy  of— 7TwelI,  of  an 
pushing,  brazen,  hippopotamus-tided,  self-advertising  pol't 
who  may  be  thrusting  and  struggling  for  place  and  power 
without  much  regard  to  the  weapons  he  uses?  I  hope  they  can. 
I  wish  to  believe  they  can,  for  I  confess  it  would  be  a  dismal 
day  for  us  if  we  had  to  acknowledge  that  mere  vulgarity  and 
smartness  must  in  the  end  submerge  scholarly  courtesy  and 
geniality.  I  leave  the  matter  there.  I  do  not  presume  to 
Formulate  an  answer  which  Time  in  any  case  will  provide. 

One  hint  I  may  give.  Keep  clear,  if  you  can,  of  fads  and 
cranks.  A  subtle  intellect,  no  doubt,  finds  a  pleasure  '"  threading 
the  mazes  of  bimetallism ;  but  to  a  practical  English  statet 
a  Minister  in  a  prosperous  country,  the  centre  of  the  WOnn 
commerce,  these  tricky  attempts  to  tamper  with  ancient  and  well- 
grounded  systems  are  a  weakness.  In  Society,  you  may  have 
been  a  "  soul,"  in  politics  you  must  be  a  man.  Play  golf  as  tnuoh 
as  you  like,  but,  as  you  value  your  future,  abstain  from  bi- 
metallism. Farewell.  Yourt  with  great  respect, 

THE  VAGRANT. 


VOl.   CXIII. 


254 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  4,  1897. 


DECEMBER  4,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


"NEW  LAMPS  FOR  OLD." 

IN  offering  a  third  specimen  of  the 
nursery-rhyme,"  aa  rewritten  for  youth, 
ful  decadents.  Mr.  Punch  feels  that  these 
example*  will  suffice  to  show  how  vast  an 
improvement  may  be  made  upon  the 
"  senseless  jingles,  as  a  reviewer  has  aptly 
termed  them,  with  which  the  less  fortunate 
children  of  a  previous  aee  have  had  to  be 
content.  And  he  looks  forward  with  con- 
fidence to  the  time  when  every  child  will 
be  taught  from  his  earliest  years  to  appre- 
ciate the  aesthetic  beauties  of  neurotic  lite- 
rature. This  final  specimen  may  be  called 
.THE  GARDEN  OF  DEAR  DELIGHTS. 

The  grey  weariness  of  our  talk  irked  me. 
My  glimmering  fear  dawned  to  a  dreadful 
certainty ;  decidedly  MART  had  no  tense 
of  things  beautiful,  in  a  word,  no  soul. 
Her  empty  laughter  had  long  since  died 
away,  indeed,  a  note  of  ill-temper,  almost 
of  fury,  twanged  harshly  in  her  speech. 
And  yet  she  was  so  young,  so  wise,  so 
beautiful  I  Deep-hidden,  surely,  a  finer 
sense  must  yet  abide  in  a  form  so  gracious. 
And.  by  good  hap,  I  found  it  at  the  last. 

"Dear  lady,"  I  entreated,  " the  loftier 
height  may  yet  be  yours.  But  you  must 
be  quit  of  the  bad  old  modes  of  thought, 
you  must  mount  to  the  untrammelled 
sense— 

"  I  wish  you  'A  mount  to  sense  1 "  she 
broke  in,  angrily.  "  I  've  never  heard  such 
nonsense  in  my  life  I  Do  let 's  leave  that 
affected  jargon  and  talk  about  something 
else !  " 

"Certainly,"  I  assented,  with  a  sigh. 
"  Yet  it  were  scarce  necessary  to  speak  so 
harshly.  But,  dear  MART,  most  unkind, 
most  contrary,  I  will  e'en  touch  another 
theme.  Perchance,"  I  added,  with  a  sud- 


at  last !    Yes,  I  have  a  garden." 

"I  knew  it  I"  I  responded  with  enthu- 
siasm. "  To  one  thus  fair  must  surely 
appertain  some  dimly-fragrant  pleasaunce, 
some  spot  bedight  with  harmonies  of 
colour,  some — 

Oh,  dear,"   she   broke  in,  "you're  as 


bad  as  ever! 


i, 


"Speak,  then,  my  MART,"  I  replied. 
"How  does  your  garden  grow?" 

She  eyed  me  strangely.  Almost  I  could 
have  sworn  that  a  smile  lurked  around  her 
mouth. 

"  My  garden  ?    Oh— with  silver  bells !  " 

"  How  exquisite  !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  Dear, 
sweet  silver  bells,  tinkling  in  the  resonant 
breeze  !  Tell  me  more — what  else  enhances 
that  subtle  charm  ?  " 

She  was  moved — deeply  moved.  Clearly 
she  had  more  feeling  that  I  had  supposed. 
She  had  her  handkerchief  in  her  mouth, 
and  her  voice  trembled,  as  she  gasped : 

"  With— oh,  with  cockle-shells !  " 

"  Symbolism  most  apt !  The  message  ol 
the  cockle — how  deep,  how  true  I  Fixed 
immovably  to  the  arid  rock,  and  yet 
pointing  high  with  its  summit,  aspiring  tc 
the  nobler  height — type  of  every  culturec 
soul!  I  think  I  see  that  dear  garden  of 
yours,  in  which  oft-times  you  wander  soli- 
tary— or,  perchance,  do  other  maidens 
beauteous  as  yourself,  share  its  sweet  se- 
clusion ?  " 

She  seemed  to  be  almost  suffocated  by 
the  gracious  insight  of  my  words.  "  Lots 
of  'em,"  she  cried,  well-nigh  choking  in 
the  utterance,  "lots  of  'em I  All  in  a 
row ! " 

"  It  lacked  but  that,"  quoth  I,  "  to  make 


—  \ 


Intending  Purchaser.  "On,  TBS,  VD  BE  ALL  RIOHT,  BUT  'E'S  GOT  SVCH  A  HUOLT   En  I 


the  picture  perfect  1  Dear  damosels,  clad 
in  fairest  garb,  not  errant  among  the  path- 
ways, but  standing  demure  in  one  far- 
reaching  row!  Fain  would  I  wander, 
MART,  in  that  garden,  fain  would  I " 

At  this  moment  MART  suddenly  with- 
drew, murmuring  a  few  broken  words 
which  almost  seemed  to  sound  like  "  Of  all 
the  screamingly-funny  idiots" — but  those 
they  could  not  have  been. 

And,  since  then,  MART  has  not  crossed 
my  path,  nor  sought  converse  with  me ; 
painfully  conscious,  doubtless,  of  her  own 
inferiority.  Poor  child,  I  despise  her  not. 
And  some  day  we  will  seek  together  that 
pleasant  place  I  wot  of ;  yea,  hand-in- 
hand  shall  we  wander  amid  the  dulcet- 
sounding  bells,  and  the  piquant  cockle- 
shells, and  the  damsels  wondrous  beautiful, 
some  day  will  I  flee  the  blatant  turbulence 
of  the  street,  and  stray  at  ease  in  the  Gar- 
den of  Dear  Delights  I 


CRICKET  CHATTER. 

(From  the  Anlipodet.) 

COTTLD  not  have  been  more  warmly  re- 
ceived. On  appearance  in  a  new  place,  our 
hands  were  nearly  shaken  off  our  wrists, 
and  our  arms  all  but  pulled  from  their 
sockets.  Yes,  unquestionably  in  general 
enthusiasm  watches  were  lost.  There  was 
no  dissembling  of  love,  and  yet  kicking 
down  stairs  was  the  theory,  if  not  actually 
the  practice.  The  reception  was  magnifi- 
cent, but  it  was  not  cricket.  Australia  has 
wisely  advanced  in  most  things,  but  per- 
haps is  a  trifle  too  prominent  in  greeting 
visitors.  On  the  whole,  the  hug  of  a  grish 
bear  is  preferable  to  the  fraternal  embrace 
of  a  Colonial. 

A  VERT  old  lady  of  our  acquaintance  says 
she  fears  the  Winter-time,  as  that  is  when 
"  the  equivocal  gales  "  are  in  full  force. 


256 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  4,  1897. 


-    ,:., 
£ria 


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t     '.'    ;     I      ,  .-    l/i«*       i  v      x  J'C  o./  /y  M 


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,A<s<*--_.  -.  .          ^55^. 


>'  '^ra*  -E  i  .    >         i  >^   •         -  •-»»>*-=       f~s— 

•  "<••-/.•«,  _,  ^  -   -'.--.'''v^;  „;••//..  •  ;s^=_ ,: 

"'"''•'•  •  '"'':'^ •''•  -  'f; "J'/v>lVv iM&^!(/1* v  \ v'' ,,,  x  ' •' 
>-'  *v  ^*-'/  !'/?;*  ^*T^^^^. '" '*i^"J 


A    NICE    EXCUSE. 

.Fair  Thruster  (who  has  just  jumped  over  Friend).  "On,  I  BEG  YOUR  PAKDON,  NELL.     I  THOUGHT  IT  WAS  A  MAN!" 


MORE  MANNERS  FOR  WOMEN. 

2Vi«  GirZ  in  Society. — Music  and  painting  are  no  longer  neces- 
sary accomplishments.  Bicycling  and  slang  are.  French  is 
taken  for  granted.  In  these  days  of  travel  a  little  Russian, 
Arabic,  Hungarian,  Basque,  and  Chinese  are  useful.  The  QUEEN 
usually  converses  in  Hindustani  with  the  Munshi  ABDUL  KABIM. 
I  get  a  great  deal  of  information  about  the  Court  from  a  former 
Royal  footman,  now  a  grocer  in  my  neighbourhood. 

At  Drawing  Rooms. — I  could  repeat  a  number  of  his  anecdotes 
if  I  had  space.  The  debutante  should  not  leave  the  Royal 
presence  on  her  hands  and  knees. 

In  the  Omnibus. — A  gentlewoman  does  not  rest  her  head  on 
the  shoulder  of  the  man  next  to  her.  Nor  does  she  stamp  on 
her  neighbour's  toes.  Self-effacement  is  her  characteristic.  If 
the  Prince  of  WALES  is  sitting  opposite  her  in  an  omnibus  she 
does  not  stare  at  him,  but  looks  out  of  the  window  behind  her, 
a  difficult  thing  to  do  gracefully  when  the  omnibus  is  full,  but 
easy  enough  after  a  little  practice. 

Cards  and  Calls. — A  card  is  a  thin  white  piece  of  paste-board. 
This  is  not  generally  known.  Its  size  is  exactly  three-and-a 
half  by  two-and-a-half  inches.  In  the  best  houses  the  butler  is 
provided  with  an  inch  measure,  and  ordered  to  refuse  all  cards 
of  improper  dimensions.  Correct  cards  are  easily  obtained. 
Messrs.  PASTE  AND  BOARD  supply  very  good  ones. 

If'fddingx. — Tears  are  bad  form.  Most  human  emotions  are 
bad  form.  They  are  out  of  place  in:  smart  restaurants.  The 
bridegroom  pays  for  whatever  he  cannot  get  the  bride's  father 
to  pay  for.  He  even  furnishes  his  own  house.  Everything  is 
now  supplied  by  caterers.  They  will  supply  the  bridegroom  if 
necessary.  Messrs.  NTVES  AND  FAWKES  are  an  excellent  firm. 

Dinners. — If  the  hostess  cooks  the  dinner  she  is  hot  and  tired 
when  her  guests  arrive.  In  the  best  houses  the  dinner  is  pre- 
pared by  a  cook,  sometimes  by  a  ehef,  or  by  what  I  call  a  cordon 
rouge.  I  don't  quite  know  what  this  is.  Most  people  call  it  a 
cordon  Vle-U'.  Perhaps  it  is  a  sort  of  kitchener.  Dinners  should 
not  last  for  five  hours.  The  signal  to  leave  the  table  is  a  nod 
to  the  principal  lady.  If  she  is  not  on  the  look-out,  you  can 


catch  her  eye  with  anything  handy.  Avoid  giving  the  signal  too 
soon,  for  instance,  just  as  your  wealthy  bachelor  uncle  is  sipping 
his  port.  Excellent  port  is  supplied  by  my  grocer.  You  can 
give  the  signal  prematurely  if  two  of  the  guests  seem  likely  to 
come  to  blows  over  bimetallism l  or  any  other  unwelcome  topic. 

Up-to-date  Entertaining.— This  is  not  entertaining  at  all,  being 
merely  an  "  At  Home  "  with  dull  talk  and  weak  tea. 

Correspondence.— Try  to  spell  correctly.  If  your  friends  live 
at  West  Kensington  do  not  address  the  envelope  to  East  Ham- 
mersmith. If  you  live  there  yourself,  or  in  any  other  suburb, 
have  a  map  of  the  omnibus  route  printed  on  your  note-paper. 
Even  smart  women  travel  in  omnibuses  now. 

Learning  to  Laugh.— This  is  very  difficult.  There  are  now  so 
few  things  to  laugh  at.  This  manual,  and  my  other  one — for 
men — may  supply  a  want. 

SURGEONS,   PLEASE  NOTE. 

VERY  interesting  is  the  statement  contained  in  the  daily 
Press  that  a  clever  operator  has  succeeded  in  transferring  the 
eyelid  of  a  defunct  porker  to  a  human  being  who  had,  unfortu- 
nately, lost  his  own  by  accident.  The  principle  of  this  trans- 
ference suggests  the  following  operations  which  might  be 
successfully  carried  out  without  materially  injuring  the  bulk 
of  the  patients. 

1.  To  take  some  of  the  cheek  of  the  average  Trades'  Unionist 
agitator,  and  give  it  to  a  retiring  and  modest  member  of  society. 

2.  Exchange  a  little  of  Mr.  ALL-N  UPW-BD'S  greece  for  an 
equal  portion  of  Sir  EI.L-S  ASHM-D  B-RTL-TT'S  turkey. 

3.  To  remove  portion  of  Dr.  T-NN-R'S  jaw. 

4.  To  take  the  nerve  of  a  steeplechase  rider,  and  transfer  it 
to  the  Spanish  Cabinet  in  dealing  with  the  Cuban  difficulty. 

5.  Any  Barrister  on  the  look-out  for  an  appointment  would 
benefit  greatly  by  obtaining  the  ear  of  either  the  Lord  Chan- 
cellor or  Home  Secretary. 

6.  Portion  of  a  cat,  applied  vigorously  to   the   back   of  any 
street  ruffian  or  wife-beater. 

THE  PARADISE  OF  PAWNBROKERS. — Borrowdale. 


DECEMBER  4,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI 


257 


AMONG  THE  KOA1UNG  FORTIES; 

Or,  The  New  Mciuujtric  uf  Letter t, 

[Mr.  ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWINBURNE,  in  a  letter  to  the  jTim«,compl»iii» 
bitterly  that  when,  "  in  thin  decadent  month,"  the  demise  of  the  sea-serpent 
and  the  giant  gooseberry  is  followed  by  th«  resurgence  of "  that  ridiculous 
monster,'  an  £n?lish  Academy  of  Letters,  his  name  should  receive  the  un- 
solicited honour  ol'  association  with  to  " unimaginable  a  gathering;"  what, 
indeed,  he  might  call  a  "  eollntiet  Itlerarum.  He  strongly  resents  tin 
"  adulation  of  such  insult."] 

WHEN  the  fiends  of  fog  are  on  Autumn's  trace*, 
The  herald  of  Yule  and  the  year's  decay 

Smears  the  lungs  and  smothers  the  face* 
With  slime  that  slithers  and  germs  that  slay  ; 

And  the  amorous  microbe  leaves  his  lair, 

And  walks  abroad  with  a  wicked  air, 

And  unabashed  the  wanton  chases 
By  nebulous  noon  his  palsied  prey. 

For  the  Silly  Season  is  past  and  over, 

Gone  with  the  equinoctial  gales  ; 
That  sinuous  hoax,  the  hoar  sea-rover. 

Has  curbed  the  pride  of  his  prancing  scales  ; 
And  the  giant  gooseberry  misbegotten 
Lies  in  the  limbo  of  all  things  rotten. 
The  savour  that  clings  to  last  yeaHs  clover, 

The  loves  that  follow  the  light  that  fails. 

Where  shall  they  find  what  next  they  shall  say  to  us, 

Give  to  our  need  what  new-sent  boon  ? 
What  fresh  air  shall  the  pressman  play  to  us. 
Worn  to  a  thread  with  the  jaunts  of  June  ? 
For  to  set  the  jaded  limbs  astir 
Is  as  food  and  drink  to  the  pipe-player, 
And  it  means  the  deuce  if,  piping  for  pay  to  as, 
Never  a  heart  shall  heed  his  tune. 

But  see !  for  a  ballet  is  set  before  us, 

Figures  that  limp  on  feet  of  lead, 
Two  score  puppets  and  all  sonorous, 

Crowned  with  paper  upon  the  head  I 
Past  the  thymele  each  one  wobbles 
Baiting  the  British  public's  obols — 
And  who  fares  fifth  in  the  footling  chorus  t 

ALGERNON  CHARLES  !  as  I  live  by  bread  I 

Shall  I  make  virtuous  sport  for  Vandals, 

I  that  mixed  in  the  M«nads'  maze, 
Shod  in  the  sheen  of  my  winged  sandals, 

Fellow  of  Fauns  by  woodland  ways? 
Shall  J  parade  in  a  vulgar  buskin 
With  ruminant  STTTBBS  and  stolid  HI-SKIN, 
Not  fit  to  hold  two  half-penny  candle* 

To  A.  C.  8.  in  his  palmy  days? 

For  I  sang  of  the  garb  and  gait  unstudied 
Of  Bacchanal  routs  that  raged  and  ran  ; 

Of  the  cheek  of  Dryad  and  Nymph  full-blooded 
That  warmed  at  touch  of  the  warming  Pan ; 

Who  then  dares  marry  my  Muse  with  these, 

This  literarvm  cottuvie*  ? 

On  him  and  his  print  and  his  staff  that  budded 
I  lay  the  curse  of  my  lips  that  ban. 

Have  I  not  said,  O  Timen,  and  sworn  it, 

By  all  oaths  valid  on  earth  and  sea, 
That  while  one  blast  is  left  to  my  cornet 

Not,  if  I  know  it,  shall  these  thing*  be  t 
Not  till  tho  lion  shear  his  locks 
And  share  his  crib  with  the  craven  ox, 
Not  till  the  fiery  unyoked  hornet 

Mate  with  the  mere  performing  flea  1 

MIXED. — Among  the  licenses  for  music  and  dancing  granted  bv 
tho  L.  C.  C.  on  Friday  last  were  several  for  the  above-men- 
tioned joyous  objects,  but  coupled  "  with  undertakings !  "  This 
is  from  gay  to  grave  with  a  vengeance !  The  singers  will  beconu 
mutes,  and  the  bier  be  drawn  by  the  barmaids  I 

THI  only  rest  that  a  busy  and  successful  City  man  takes  i- 
"  inte-rest,'"  and  of  this  he  gets  as  much  as  he  can. 

FOOTBALL  should  be  the  classic  game  for  Australia,  as 
essentially  "  Anti-podenn." 


FAIR    PLAY. 

"I    HOPE  YOU   PLUMPED   FOR  GlOGLBfl,  Miss   WUMP !      AVlSr  VuTE 
U  OF   VALUE." 

"WELL,  I  'D  A  MIND  TO  ;  BUT,  THINKS  I,  P&oaRtta  is  GOOD,  BUT 

TBBRB  'a    SOMETHING     TO     BE    RAID     FOR     MoillRATlON.        So     I    JUST 
HALVED   MT   FOUR    VOTES   BETWEEN   YOU  !" 


OUR  OOBBESPONDENCE  COLUMN. 

ENQTJIRBX. — Nothing  is  easier  than  to  get  taken  on  to  the 
staff  of  any  London  paper.  The  fact  that  you  hare  never  had 
anything  published  yet,  don't  understand  politics,  and  can't 
spell,  goes  for  nothing.  Any  editor  would  snap  you  up.  Try 
the  Times  to  start  with. 

JEALOUS  WIFE.— Don't  believe  his  *tory,  but  keep  your  eye 
on  the  female  type-writer. 

LITTLE  TOMMY. — We  should  hardly  like  to  advise  you  to  marry 
the  pretty  girl  at  the  pastry-cook's  on  the  ten  shillings  a  term 
you  receive  as  pocket-money.  Certainly  you  would  find  it  a 
hard  struggle  to  keep  a  wife  on  anything  less  than  that.  It 
would  only  be  possible  by  dint  of  the  strictest  economy. 

HEAVYWBIOHT. — It  i»  certainly  very  annoying  to  find  that  the 
new  armchair  is  too  small  for  yon  to  get  into.  Try  a  shoe-horn. 

GREEK.— Yes,  it  wa*  HELEN  who  fired  Troy,  but  who  Troy 
was,  and  why  she  "fired"  him,  and  what  place  she  "fired"  him 
out  of ,  we  do  not  know. 

W.  K.  W. — You  should  write  another  poem,  like  the  one  you 
have  sent  us.  and  send  it  somewhere  else.  We  're  full  up  here 
for  the  next  forty  years. 

COOK. — The  following  is  a  good  receipt  for  the  dish  named, 
bat  we  are  not  coming  to  dinner  with  you  on  the  night  you  try 
it.  Place  in  a  saucepan  a  pint  of  green  peas  (nnshelled),  add 
cigar-ends  and  orange-peel  to  taste ;  cook  thoroughly  for  one 
hour :  strain  through  a  sieve ;  then  go  out  to  dinner  and  leave 
the  new  dUh  for  the  servants. 

Suburban  Hospitality. 

(ScENF. — A'mile  and  a  half  to  the  railicay  station,  on  a  bitter 

winter  »  tu'ght. 

denial  Host  (putting  hit  head  nut  of  f/oor.i).  Heavens!  what  a 
nijiht!  Not  tit  to  turn  a  doe  out !  (Tt>  the  parting  gvfft.)  Well, 
good  night,  old  chap.  I  hope  vou  find  your  way  to  the  station. 


258 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  4,  1897. 


BLASEE. 

"NOW  I  'M  GOINO  TO  READ  YOU  A  PRETTY  STORY,  DEAR — ALL  ABOUT  THE   GARDEN  OF  EDEN  !" 

"On,  MUMMY,  PLEASE,  NOT  THAT  ONE.     I  'M  so  TIRED  OF  THAT  STORY  OF  THE  ADAMSES  !" 


"POTTED  ZULU." 

[At  a  meeting  of  the  Newbury  Board  of  Guar- 
dians recently  it  appeared  from  a  statement  made 
by  Mr.  BEYNON  that  the  inmates  of  the  "  House  " 
objected  to  being  fed  once  a  week  on  "potted  Zulu."] 

IN  wrath  the  "  inmates  "  have  rebelled — 
Yet  how  should  they  keep  cool,  who 

By  cruel  fortune  are  compelled 
To  live  on  potted  Zulu? 

We  sympathize  with  them,  indeed, 
The  man  must  be  a  ghoul,  who 

Would  force  a  brother  man  to  feed 
On  prime  young  potted  Zulu. 

But  Mr.  BEYNON  on  the  Board 

Is  not  the  sort  of  fool,  who 
Would  leave  the  mystery  unexplored — 

Viz.,  what  it  "potted  Zulu"? 


He  finds  the  knowledge  of  the  map 
Possessed  by  paupers  too  loose, 

They  do  not  know,  nor  care  a  rap, 
Whence  come  their  potted  Zulus. 

To  them,  no  doubt,  is  Teneriffe 

The  same  as  Honolulu — 
And  that  is  why  Australian  beef 

They  christen  "  potted  Zulu." 

Then  let  no  good  philanthropists 
Their  heads,  as  oft  they  do,  lose — 

It 's  really  beef,  the  Board  insists, 
It  isn't  potted  Zulus  1 


'ARRY  of  Cockaigne,  having  heard  the 
word  "  Bacchylides  "  recently  mentioned, 
wishes  to  know  if  it  means  "  Lidies  as 
smoke  cigarettes." 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

A  Roving  Bachelor  encounters  a  Beauteous  Lady 
in  a  Rail-way  Carriage,  and  falls  deeply  in 
love,  which  runs  but  roughly  for  him. 

THERE  's  the  Princess  of  TULIPATAN, 

A  lady  of  highest  degree  ; 
There 's  the  Countess  GARBANZOB-MMKAN, 

Who  is  wed  to  a  Spanish  grandee  ; 
There's  the  Viscountess  TOUTALAMODI, 

Who  Coi/UMBA  P.  QUIRK  used  to  be  ; 
There 's  the  Lady  FITZPORCELAINE  SPODB — 

But  what  are  these  beauties  to  me  ? 

There  are  damsels  as  well  by  the  score ! 

Miss  LUCINDA  LA  CBKME-DE-LA-CREMI  1 
Ladies  BBTTT  and  BRIDGET  O'MoRB, 

Duplex  burners  of  both  the  same  flame  1 
Countess  OLOA  DUCHINKA  HATZOFF, 

Miss  VAN  DUCK  from  the  broad  Zuyder 

Zee, 
And  Miss  PEHKINSON  P«T»«8-McSooFF  I — 

But  what  are  these  beauties  to  me  ? 

They  may  laugh  with  the  light  of  their 

eyes! 
They  may  charm  with  their  prattle  and 

smiles  1 

They  may  tease  with  the  temper  that  tries  I 
They  may  witch  and  may  wheedle  with 

wiles  I 
They  may  coo  with  the  voice  of  the  dove ! 

They  may  flirt  with  felicity  free  I 
They  may  languish  with  long  looks  of  love  ! 
But  what  are  these  beauties  to  me  ? 

Fairest  roses  may  bloom  on  their  cheeks, 

And  the  lilies  shine  fair  on  their  brows, 
And  their  forms  be  so  many  antiques 

Not  restrained  by  what  Fashion  allows  I 
Their  locks  may  be  auburn  or  brown, 

Bavenswing  or  all  Klondyke  to  see, 
Tresses  worthy  to  mesh  all  the  town ! — 

But  what  are  these  beauties  to  me  ? 

I  an  writing  with  fervour  and  flame ; 

I  am  thinking  of  you,  only  you! 
I  may  not,  alas  1  know  your  name, 

Nor  that  too  speedy  journey  renew. 
But  a  title  you  hare  that  is  mete, 

Grace  of  graces,  "  your  grace,"  you  must 

be 
In  the  Peerage  of  Peris  all  sweet ! 

You  "re  the  Duchess  of  DIMPLES  to  me  1 


Six    months    after!     With    still    trusting 
heart 

To  my  cousin's  I  go  for  a  spell. 
She  is  what  they  call  stylish  and  smart, 

And  no  matter  how  long  since  a  belle. 
We  are  chatting.     A  knock  at  the  door  1 

And  there  enters  a  maiden.     'Tis  she! 
"  Are  you  ill  ?  "     "  No  ;  the  heat,  nothing 
more  I " 

Tis  the  Duchess  of  DIMPLES  with  tea ! 


Over  the  Walnuts  and  the   Wine. 

Old.  Mr.  Barman  (ardent  Eadical).  What 
with  the  Indian  Frontier  business,  the 
Engineers'  Strike,  the  troubles  in  East  and 
West  Africa,  the  Behring  Sea  dispute,  and 
the  occupation  of  Egypt,  it  is  my  firm 
belief  that  the  British  Empire  is  being 
reduced  to  a  skeleton.  In  fact,  it  is  going 
to  the  dogs,  Sir ! 

Unconvinced  Nephew  (enlightened  Tory). 
And  wouldn't  the  dogs  enjoy  the  picking 
of  the  skeleton's  bones,  eh,  uncle  ? 

[Old  Mr.  B.  abruptly  joins  the  ladies. 


THE      M08T      IMPORTANT     STATE     OF     THE 

BRITISH  EMPIRE. — The  state  of  the  Navy 
and  Army. 


ITNVH,    Oil   TMK    I.OMu.N    i  'H AIM  V  \  1:1  _  1>,  TKWBER  4,  1897. 


THE  ONLY  ALTERNATIVE. 


JOHN  BULL.  "EECEUITS  COMING  IN  NICELY,  SERGEANT?"  

BECKurrnfa  SEROEAMT  PUNCH.  "NO,  SIE.     THE  FACT  IS,  MR.  BULL,  IP  YOU  CANT?  MAKE  IT  BETTER 
WOETH  THEIE  WHILE  TO  ENLIST,— YOU 'LL  HAVE  TO  SHOULDER  A  RIFLE  YOURSELF!  I" 


DKCEMBKR  4,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


261 


SEALS    ARE    CHEAP    TO-DAY! 

A  Fancy  Portrait  of  Sir  Wilfrid  Lattrier  in  the  Canadian  Store. 
[As  the  first-fruits  of  Sir  WILFRID  LAUKIEK'S  policy,  it  is  stated  that  thi 
Canadian  Government  "  has  taken  premises  in  the  City,  shortly  to  be  openei 
as  a  Start  for  the  sale  of  general  Canadian  products."— Daily  Chronitle.] 


IN     MEMORIAM. 
SIR  CHAKLES   EUWAUl)  POLLOCK. 
'•  LAST  of  the  Barons !  "  lo !  the  sudden  call 

Summons  you  hence  across  the  silent  land 
To  where  at  His  Assize,  the  Judge  of  all, 

Themselves,  the  judges  of  the  earth  must  stand. 
Not  much  shall  then  avail  that  legal  art 

Splendid,  that  set  you  other  men  above  ; 
But  much  the  record  how  with  perfect  heart 

You  learned  and  practised  all  the  law  of  Lore. 


OTJK  BOOKING-OFFICE. 

BY  a  notable  coincidence,  two  novels,  almost  simultaneous!} 
published,  take  recent  historical  epochs  for  their  field,  and  for  the 
puppets  of  their  plot  borrow  famous  characters.  In  God  Save  thi 
Queen  (CHATTO  AND  WINDUS),  Mr.  ALLEN  UPWARD  reveals  a 
hitherto  unsuspected  conspiracy  that  gathered  round  the  QVEBN'K 
accession  upon  the  death  of  WILLIAM  THB  FOUHTH.  In  For  Low 
of  a  Bedouin  Maid  (HUTCHINSON),  LR  VOLBUB  deals  with  tht 
time  of  NAPOLEON,  dating  from  his  unexpected  return  to  Paiii- 
after  the  Italian  campaign,  down  to  his  final  return  to  the  capital 
after  Waterloo.  It  is  a  rattling  story,  full  of  strange  adventure, 
its  hero,  St.  Just,  having  one  of  those  charmed  lives  which  distin- 
guished Tom  Burke  of  Ours,  Charles  O'MnUfji,  and  other  ol 
LEVER'S  heroes.  In  the  chapters  dealing  with  the  search  for  Un- 
hidden treasure  in  the  subterranean  Bedouin  city,  I.K  VOLMTR  i-. 
not  beyond  suspicion  of  having  volt  (conveyed,  the  wise  call  iti 
from  Mr.  RIDER  HAGGARD.  But  the  sagacious  reader  will  not 
inquire  too  closely  whence  his  good  things  are  provided.  As  a 
work  of  art,  God  Save  the  Queen  is  more  deftly  wrought,  Mr. 
UPWAHD,  whilst  weaving  a  pleasant  story,  having  succeeded  in 
investing  both  scenes  and  characters  with  vraisimilitude.  In  this 
year  of  jubilee,  it  is  especially  interesting  to  learn  how  narrowly 
we  escaped  having  a  King  in  1837  instead  of  a  Queen. 


There   i«  il.iinty   tragedy,  says   my    B.unrii'e.xt,   in 
Changeling,   a   short   poera   by   DORA  SIGBRMUN    i.MrH.   CI.EIIKNT 
MiiiKTEK).     The  other   poems   which   fill  the   little   volume  are 
chiefly  on  old  Irish  legends,   whoso  charm  lies  in  their  quaint 
pathos.     Jons  LANS  of  the  Bodley  Head  is  the  publisher. 

Klondyke  must  prove  a  welcome  mine  for  the  exploration  ol 
the  sensationalist.  Seated  comfortably  by  a  bright  fire  is  the 
only  way  to  thoroughly  appreciate  Hunting  fur  Gold,  by  HUME 
NISBBT  (F.  V.  WHITE  &  Co.).  The  youthful  hero,  with  un- 
frozen courage,  works  through  the  Yukon  valley,  till  Klotuiyke 
gives  him  all  he  baa  come  to  dig  for.  Anything  that  Mr.  HCMB 
NISBET  writes  for  adventurous  boys  is  welcome.  Nothing  of 
Hurne'un  interest  is  unpalatable  >.n  our  BaroniteM. 

More  Beast i  for  WOTK  Children.  Ver«c«  by  H.  B.,  pii-tun-i 
by  B.  I.  B.  Somewhat  unkind  of  the  anonyraoua  poet  and 
artist  to  qualify  the  title  so  comparatively.  No  doubt  the  violent 
attitude  of  the  tomato-colouii>d  animal,  of  a  Jabberworkian 
period,  on  the  cover,  will  have  much  to  account  for  this  "  wuw- 
ness"  of  his  small  friends.  (Published  by  EDWARD  ARNOLD, 
London  and  New  York).  Better  and  happier  children  will  enjoy 
the  acquaintance  of  Tht  Dummen,  discovered  by  FRANK  VER- 
BECK,  who  must  have  revealed  their  existence  to  ALBERT 
BIOELOW  PAINE,  for  he  has  written  the  history  of  these  delightful 
little  people,  who,  from  an  economical  senae  of  proportion,  dwell 
in  the  Low  Mountains ;  should  it  not  have  been  "  the  Big-e-low 
Mountains?"  (KROAN,  PAUL  A  Co.)  For  youthful  zoological 
students  the  Hon.  W.  J.  FORTWCTJE  tells  a  simple  unvarnished 
Story  of  a  Bed  Deer  in  his  Devonshire  home.  The  deer  u  red, 
and  so  will  this  story  be.  (MACMILLAN  A  Co.) 

The  heroine  of  The  Beth  Book  (HEINEMANN)  is  one  of  SARAH 
GRAND'S  most  fascinating  creations.  With  such  realistic  art  U 
her  life  set  forth  that,  for  a  while,  the  reader  will  probably  be 
under  the  impression  that  he  has  before  him  the  actual  story  of 
a  wayward  genius  compiled  from  her  own  genuine  diary.  It  is, 
the  Baron,  who  greatly  admires  the  work,  ventures  to  think, 
a  Grand  mistake  on  the  part  of  the  gifted  authoress  that  she 
should  have  written  any  portion  of  this  book  with  such  a  special 
purpose  in  view  as  must  necessarily  limit  the  recommendation 
of  its  perusal  to  a  comparatively  narrow  circle,  not  "  a  vicious 
circle,  but  one  composed  of  "those  who  know,"  and  who  grieve, 
with  Hamlet,  that  ever  they  were  born  to  tet  things  right. 
Apart  from  this  reservation,  the  story  is  absorbing ;  the  trtth 
to  nature  in  the  characters,  whether  virtuous,  ordinary,  or 
vicious,  every  reader,  with  some  experience  of  life,  will  recognise. 
One  of  the  most  dramatic  situations  in  it  reminds  the  Baron  of 
an  exactly  similar  scene  in  Mrs.  EDWARDS'  Morals  of  Mayfair, 
where,  in  the  latter,  hero  and  heroine  are  caught  by  the  rising  of 
the  tide.  In  The  Beth  Book  the  heroine,  with  one  of  her  tempo- 
rary lovers,  is  also  caught  by  the  rising  of  the  tide,  and  has  a 
very  narrow  escape. 

The  Legend  of  Camelot,  Ac.  (BRADBURY,  AONBW,  A  Co.),  is 
a  genuine  re-publication  de  luj-e  of  GEORGE  DC  MAURIER'S  pic- 
tures, poetry,  and  prose,  that  from  time  to  time  originally 
appeared  in  Mr.  Punrh's  pages.  The  Legend  of  Camelot  recalls 
the  maddest  period  of  the  "^Esthetic  Craze,  when  Messrs. 
Ma\*dle,  Postlfthu-aite,  A  Co.,  a  quite  "  too-too  precious"  let 
of  noodles,  attitudinising,  sighing,  groaning,  and  moaning  to 
the  last,  received  their  coup  de.  gr&ce  from  the  sharp-pointed 
pencil  and  pen  of  our  cynical  artist,  GEORGE  DU  MAURIRR.  The 
laughable  Nursery  Rhymes  in  the  funniest  French  are  illustrated 
with  a  weird,  grim-goblin  humour  that  is  best  described  as  "  Du- 
Maurieresque  ;  while  his  "  Society  story  "  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jack 
Sprat t  not  only  points  a  moral,  but  gives  us  just  a  pen-and- 
inkling  of  the  germs  of  the  idea  which,  at  a  much  later  date, 
was  to  come  to  fniition  as  Trilliy.  From  a  literary,  as  well  as 
from  an  artistic  point  of  view,  this  volume  is  most  welcome. 

THE  BARON  DB  B.-W. 


"  AUDI    AI.TERAM    PARTEJC." 

["  In   n  ven-  »hort  time  the  hounds  were  nrtually  in  view  of  him,  and  but 
or  that  abominable  open  earth  my  tale  would  not  be  cut  so  short."] 

Brrr  Fw.  "  Ftrr  FOR  THE  OPEN  EARTH,  1  sHuri.n  nr.  TAILLESS  !" 


262  PUNCH,    OR    THE  \  LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBEB  4,  1897. 


DKJKMIIKH  4,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


ODE  ON  A  LONDON  HUM. 

(AJjliclcd  by  Lvcwnator 


I  KNOW  the  train 

Of  Amsterdam. 
Of  Moscow,  Milan,  Copenhagen, 

Nice,  Prague,  Berlin, 

But  ne'er  stepped  in 

A  wheeled  affair 

That  made  me  swear 
In  language  so  profanely  pagan, 
As  this  ramshackle  London  tram  1 

I  mostly  an 

Meek  as  a  lamb, 
And  keep  my  temper  and  my  hair  on  ; 

But  when  I  ride 

In  or  outside 

This  blessed  hearse, 

I  'm  "  taken  worse,1' 
And  rage  and  rare  with  wild  despair  on 
The  pace  of  thii  suburban  tram  I 

I  'd  rather  cram 

Into  a  "  pram," 
Or  hire  a  bath-chair  or  steam-roller  ; 

For  one  and  all 

They  hardly  crawl 

Like  this  machine 

That  plies  between 

Kew  Bridge  and  Town.     I  grind  each  molar 
With  wrath  when  on  this  mail-like  tram  1 

Why  should  I  sham 

A  smothered—  monosyllable 
At  this  conveyance  soul-destroying  P 

No,  loud  I  '11  shout, 

"  Stop  I  let  me  out  I  " 

'Twill  more  avail 

A  'bus  to  hail  — 

A  pirate  ey'n  were  less  annoying 
Than  this  funereal  London  tram  I 


SOME  MORE  RUMOURS. 

NOT  only  is  it  denied  that  the  Channel 
Islands  are  to  be  given  up  to  France,  but 
also  that  Gibraltar  is  to  be  handed  over  to 
Spain.  There  was  never  any  intention  of 
taking  Cuba  in  exchange. 

It  is  untrue  that  Valencia  Island  is  to  be 
given  to  Russia,  to  form  the  long  wished- 
for  port  on  the  Atlantic.  The  concession 
offered  in  return — a  small  reduction  of  the 
duty  on  English  electric  cabs  in  Turkestan 
— was  considered  insufficient. 

The  report  that  the  Isle  of  Man  is  to  be 
handed  over  to  the  United  States,  as  a 
small  token  of  the  unalterable  and  unre- 
quited affection  of  this  country,  is  contra- 
dicted. It  is  believed  that  a  certain  very 
eminent  novelist  threatened  to  put  all  the 
Ministers  into  his  next  book  if  the  one 
place  which  he  knows  anything  about  were 
interfered  with,  and  that  the  idea  was 
consequently  at  once  abandoned.  Never- 
theless, according  to  the  newspapers  and 
public  speeches  in  this  country,  our  affec- 
tion for  our  dear  brothers  across  the  At- 
lantic is  more  fervent  than  ever,  blood 
being  thicker  than  water.  Their  affection 
for  us  continues  much  the  same  as  it  has 
been  for  the  last  few  years. 

There  is  no  truth  in  the  rumour  that,  in 
consequence  of  the  insufficient  numbers  of 
the  Bonchurch  policeman,  and  his  inability 
to  increase  himself  numerically,  the  Go- 
vernment will  give  the  Isle  of  Wight  to 
the  GEHMAN*  KMPEKOR.  It  is  therefore 
untrue  that  the  ten  men  and  one  officer, 
recently  representing  the  German  army  in 
Crete,  left  there  to  take  possession  of  the 
Islo  of  Wight  :  that  the  whole  of  the  Ger- 


L 


THE    FIRST   WALK    OF   THE    CONVALESCENT. 


man  navy,  at  present  at  Kiao-Chau  Bay, 
has  been  ordered  to  Cowes ;  or  that  the 
K>mgg  himself  has  prepared  the  plans  for 
transforming  Osborne  House  into  an  im- 
pregnable fortress.  The  cession  of  Heligo- 
land may  have  given  some  grounds  for  t hU 
rumour,  but  that  gift,  having  failed  to 
produce  the  sincere  affection  we  so  con- 
stantly crave,  is  hardly  likely  to  be  followed 
as  a  precedent. 


Parliamentary  Proceedings. 

" '  WITH  shouts  of  rage  they  dealt  out 

i.u  ~  and  kicks,  and  tore  out  each  other's 
hair."' 

"Ah,"  said  the  traveller  who  had  re- 
turned to  his  native  shores,  "so  they  have 
.n't  Home  Rule  in  Ireland  at  last,  and  this 
is  a  report  of  their  first  session  ?  " 

••  Not  so,"  interrupted  his  friend.  "  I  am 
reading  from  an  account  of  u  debate  in  the 
Austrian  Keichsrath." 


I  WAIT  FOR  THEE. 

(A  Fin-de-Siiete  Love  Sang.) 

I  WAIT  for  thee 
Beside  the  stile, 

Once  more  to  see 
That  sweet,  sweet  smile. 

Despite  of  snub 
I  linger  there, 

Close  to  the  pub- 
lic thoroughfare. 

The  storm-cloud  scowls 
Across  the  sky. 

The  tempest  howls. 
And  so  dp  I. 

The  blooming  cow- 
slip wild  and  free 

Will  hear  me  vow 
I  wait  for  thee. 

SAU   10  COSTKMPLATK. — A  broad-mind"(l 
with  narrow  means. 


264 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  4,  1897. 


s/c 


ANOTHER    IRISH    OBSTRUCTION. 

Colonel  O'Funk.  "  I  SAY,  MY  MAN,  WHAT  's  ON  THE  OTHER  SIDE  OF  THAT  RAIL  ? " 

Pat.  "NOTHING." 

Colonel  O'Funk.  "  THEN,  WILL  YOU  TAKE  IT  DOWN,  AND  I  LL  CLEAK  IT  ! 


THE  L.  F.  B.  VADE  MEGUM. 

Question.  What  is  the  general  impression 
of  the  Public  of  the  members  of  the  Fire 
Brigade  ? 

Answer.  That   they  are  models  of   effi- 
ciency and  the  bravest  of  the  brave. 
Q.  Is  this  opinion  justified  by  facts? 
A.  To  a  large  extent.    The  men  are  all 
that  they  should  be.  and  if  efficiency  is  not 
complete,  it  is  the  fault  of  the  authorities. 
Q.  Who  are  the  authorities? 
A.  The  members  of  the  London  County 
Council. 

Q.  What  is  the  record  of  this  body  as 
regards  the  Fire  Brigade  ? 

A.  That  they  contrived  by  their  inter- 
ference to  lose  the  services  of  one  of  the 
best  of  Superintendents,  although  they 
were  fortunate  enough  to  secure  the  assist- 
ance of  a  worthy  successor. 

Q.  How  do  you  know  that  the  present 
head  of  the  Fire  Brigade  is  a  worthy  suc- 
cessor to  his  predecessor. 

A.  Because  that  is  the  opinion  of  the 
predecessor,  an  opinion  shared  by  the 
Public  at  large. 

Q.  Has  the  Superintendent  any  chance 
of  distinguishing  himself  ? 

A  •  Scarcely  ;  because  the  material  with 
whicn  he  has  to  work  is  ridiculously  dis- 
proportionate to  hi*  need». 


Q.  Give  an  instance  in  support  of  thi 
statement. 

A.  A  recent  fire  in  the  City  absorbed 
the  entire  stock  of  fire-engines  available  in 
the  Metropolis.  Had  there  been  another 
large  fire  at  the  same  moment,  it  woulc 
have  had  to  burn  itself  out  free  from  th 
representation  of  the  L.  F.  B. 

Q.  Is  not  this  a  disgraceful  state  o 
affairs  ? 

A.  Not  only  disgraceful,  but  ridiculous 

Q.  Why  is  such  a  situation  allowed  U 
continue  ? 

A.  Because  the  authorities  are  accus 
tomed  to  cheese-paring  and  luck. 

Q.  Do  you  mean  that  so  long  as  th 
condition  of  affairs  remains  undiscovered 
they  will  trust  to  chance  to  avoid  disaster 

A.  I  do.  For  instance,  in  the  matter  c 
the  recent  fire  to  which  I  have  alludec 
luck  stood  their  friend.  The  first  con 
flagration  exhausted  the  resources  of  th 
L.  F.  B.,  but  there  was  no  second  blaze  o 
the  first  order  to  complete  the  objec 
lesson. 

Q.  Still,  attention  was  called  to  th 
matter  in  the  pages  of  the  newspapers  ? 

A.  Certainly  ;  and  with  the  customar 
benefit  to  the  community. 

Q.  Kindly  explain  what  you  mean  b 
"  customary  benefit." 

A.  I   mean  that   benefit   which   is   de 


vable  from  the  schemes  suggested  during 

nine-days  wonder. 

Q.  Are  those  schemes  usually  adopted? 

A.  No,  they  are  not  usually  adopted, 
nd  are  generally  dropped  when  the  wonder 
f  the  nine  days  is  succeeded  by  a  marvel 
f  a  fortnight  later. 

Q.  Has  not  the  recent  fire  also  brought 
o  light  a  mass  of  circumlocution  further 
ampering  the  efforts  of  the  firemen  ? 

A.  It  has ;  and  with  great  good  luck, 
omething  may  be  done  to  mend  matters  in 
bat  connection. 

Q.  In  what  way  ? 

A.  By  making  it  a  rule  to  obtain  coal 
or  the  engines  from  the  nearest  iouree  of 
upply,  and  improving  the  call  machinery. 

Q.  But  will  that  be  enough  ? 

A.  Certainly  not ;  but  it  is  the  custom 
if  Englishmen  to  do  things  by  halves,  on 
he  principle  that  a  moiety  of  a  loal  ii 
ireferable  to  no  bread. 

Q.  But   surely  the  public   conscience  U 
now  fully  aroused? 

A.  Certainly ;  but,  judging  from  prece- 
lent,  this  does  not  amount  to  much. 

Q.  Make  your  meaning  plainer. 

A.  The  public  conscience  will  be  produc- 
ive  of  tons  of  talk,  and  then  peacefully 
esume  its  slumbers  until  the  next  disaster. 


ODE  TO  AN  OYSTBB. 

(By  an  amorous  Bivalvian,  who  is  blocked  out 

of  the  Counter  at  Luncheon-time.) 
'.  LOVE  thee,  gentle  oyster ;  yet  I  ween 
Thou  knoweit  not  thy  lover  or  his  mien. 
L'hou  canst  not  know  me,  since  I  still  await 
Chy  chaste  arrival  on  the  dubious  plate, 
And  watch,  with  all  but  evident  distress, 
kty  rivals  who  around  thy  charms  still  press, 
While  I  my  love  to  thee  may  not  yet  tell 
When  quivering  upon  the  deep,  deep  shell! 
Think  not,  dear  oyster,  that  I  mean  you  ill 
Because  you  do  not  satiate  my  will ; 
But  recognise  that  my  despair  it  utter 
When,  armed  with  stout  and  copious  bread- 
and-butter, 

[  may  but  take  but  little  snacks  and  sips, 
While  longing,  love,  to  presi  you  to  my 

lipsl 

Come  then,  mine  oyster,  redolent  of  foam 
And  Chili-vinegared  or  lemon-juiced,  come 

home! 
Come  home,  mine  oyster  fair,  come  home 

NOTE  BY  DABBY  JONES. —  When  the 
Automatic  Starter  is  fully  established,  we 
shall  also  have  the  Automatic  Jockey,  the 
Automatic  Horse,  the  Automatic  Judge 
(who  will  "  click "  when  the  automatic 
Horse  wins),  and  the  Automatic  Jockej 
Club  always  willing  to  give  a  decision  bj 
placing  a  £5  Jubilee  piece  in  the  slot. 

A  WEALTHY  and  healthy  man  who  is  i 
systematic  grumbler,  finds  his  counterpar 
in  a  beautifully-situated  stream  which  goe 
on  perpetually  murmuring. 


A  PBOPOS  OF    THE  RACING   LAST  WEEK.- 

Why  not  have  jockeys  arrayed  in  elet 
trically-lighted  coloured  jackets  and  caps 
Then  neither  the  Judge  or  the  Pubh 
would  ever  be  in  a  fog.  But  at  Derby  an 
Warwick  some  of  the  contests  wen 
assuredly  mist-eries. 

IT  is  a  virtue,  and  yet  the  only  one  tha 
cannot  be  even  named  without  bin.  It  i 
Sin-cerity. 


I  >i:  •KJIIIKII 


LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


265 


•a1? 


RISKY 

Mr.  0' Fluke  (whos*. shooting  hasltcen  a  bit  wM).  "  VKKY  <>[>!>,  ROBINS, 

THAT   I   DON'T  HIT  ANYTHING  ?" 

Robins  (dodging  muzzle).   "AH,  BUT  A  'u  AFEARD  IT'S  OW«B  GOOD 

LUCK   TO  CONTINUE,    SlR  !  " 


THE  PERIL  OF  POETEY.    A  NATIONAL  SCANDAL. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH, — I  have  read  with  much  interest  the 
correspondence  from  eminent  literary  men  which  has  recently 
appeared  in  your  columns,  but  I  confess  the  idea  of  an  Academy, 
or  as  you  more  correctly  name  it,  Menagerie  of  Letters,  has 
quite  lost  favour  with  me  since  no  single  list  that  has  yet 
appeared  contains  the  name  which  is  signed  at  the  bottom  of 
this  letter.  This  fact  speaks  volumes  for  the  taste  of  the  British 
public,  and.  me  jwdice,  damns  the  scheme  utterly. 

I  should  like,  however,  to  call  your  attention  to  a  suggestion 
made  by  a  well-known  contemporary  of  yours,  from  across  the 
Border.  The  Glasgow  Herald,  in  a  masterly  article,  advocates 
"  the  State  endowment  of  accredited  poetical  genius  as  a  means 
of  preventing  poetry  from  being  starved  out  of  existence  "- 
a  fate,  Sir,  of  which  Poetry  and  I  stand  in  direst  danger. 
And  why  ?  The  Herald  puts  the  whole  case  in  a  nutshell : 
"  There  is  not  the  same  national  demand  for  poetry  that  there 
was  thirty  or  forty  years  ago."  I  go  further.  I  say  there  is  no 
demand !  Why,  Sir',  at  the  present  moment  I  have  twenty-three 


see  for  yourself.  [We  take  your  word  for  it. — ED.]  I  have 
known  people  indignant  because  MII.TON  got  but  £5  for  his 
Paradise  Lost.  Lucky  MILTON  !  I  can't  get  five  pen«e,  let  alone 
five  pounds,  for  my  Logrolliad,  which  I  consider  infinitely 
superior  in  every  way  to  the  mythico-theologico-metaphysical 
lucubrations  of  the  Puritan. 

Now,  Sir,  you  will,  I  know,  agree  with  me  that  it  would  be  a 
public  calamity  if  Poetry  and  I  should  perish.     How  prevent  i 
Thus.     Adopt  the  suggestion  of  the  Glasgow  HeralJ.     Let  tM 
State  offer  me  a  pension  of,  say,  £500  a  year,  and,  proud  as  I 
am,  I  will  swallow  my  pride  to  prevent  such  a  national  scandal. 
Yours,  &<•.,  DANTE  Por«  JONES. 

5,  Grub  Street,  Three-pair  Hack. 

A  CANDIDATE  FOR  TOT  VICTORIA  CROW.—  The  football  referee. 


THK   MIMKS1   MILK. 

"  THERE'S  a  tempting  bit  of  greenery,  of  nii  in  urbe  scenery" — 

Its  praises  HKNKY  LEIUH  sang  long  ago; 
Mow  we  tell  another  story,  for  ita  undivided  glory 

Once  departed,  for  a  while,  from  Itotten  Row. 

In  h»-r  nevor-failing  passion  for  a  novel  hobby.  Fashion 
Made  decree  that  riding  bikes  should  b>>  "  the  thing  "  : 

Hones  stayed  at  home  unh !<•<!.  l>r  the  cycle*  superseded, 

And  the  Row  waa  then  supplanted  by  the  Ring. 

There's  a  charming  bit  of  "flat,"  you  know,  between  AchilW 
statue 

And  the  Powder  Magazine,  which  I  shall  style — 
\Vith  a  licence  all  poetic,  and  a  note  apologetic — 

Yet  with  reason,  too,  I  think— "The  Ladies'  Mile." 

Oh,  the  times  that  I  have  been  there,  and  the  types  that  I  hare 
seen  there 

Of  the  real  and  imaginary  swell, 
And  the  scores  of  pretty  riders,  both  patricians  and  outsider*, 

Are  considerably  more  than  I  can  tell. 

Hut  of  all  things  I  remember  one  fine  morning,  in  December, 

Clear  forever  in  my  memory  must  dwell, 
A'ln-ii  I  leant  against  the  railing  watching  skilful  riders  sailing 

Up  and  down,  and  wobbling  novices  as  well. 

Then  I  brought  away  one  image  from  that  fashionable  scrimmage 

Of  the  sweetest  and  divinest  little  face, 
\nd  that  vision  of  perfection  in  my  constant  recollection 

In  my  thoughts  and  in  my  dreams  will  find  a  place. 

Did  I  hate  the  little  bounder  in  the  train  that  gathered  round 
herP 

Did  I  look  on  his  presumption  as  a  crime  ? 
She  was  smiling  on  him,  sweetly,  as  she  rode  along  so  neatly, 

Though  she  evidently  loathed  him  all  the  time. 

Oh,  the  hours  that  I  have  wasted,  the  regrets  that  I  have  tested, 
Since  I  saw  her  there  for  all  too  brief  a  while  I 

For   the  fact   there  '•  no  concealing   that  she   won   my    heart 

a-wheeling 
That  December  morn  along  the  Ladies'  Mile  1 


"  'Tis  AN  ILI,  WIND,"  Ac. — The  recent  gale  will  have  had,  it  is 
to  be  hoped,  at  least  one  good  effect.  The  telegraphic  communi- 
cation between  Calais  and  Dover  ought  to  occupy  only  a  few 
minutes,  and  thus  a  message  sent  and  received  in  so  short  a 
time  would  avert  a  catastrophe.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  such  a 
message,  instead  of  going  straight  to  Dover,  has  to  pass  that 
town  and  be  taken  up  to  London,  and  then,  when  all  formalities, 
whatever  they  may  be,  have  been  complied  with,  the  message 
is  wired  back  again  to  Dover.  On  Monday,  November  29, 
according  to  the  report  in  the  Times,  a  telegram  for  Dover 
despatched  from  Calais  at  10.25  A.M.,  waa  not  received  at  Dover 
until  1.50  P.M.  II  This  is  an  example  of  "how  not  to  do  it" 
with  a  vengeance.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  Post  Office  autho- 
rities will  not  show  themselves  "  deaf  as  a  Post  "  to  the  demands 
for  improvements  in  this  department. 

THE  DEFEAT  OF  DIGOLE. 

(A  ATtw  Reason  for  an  Old  Rhyme.) 

HBT,  DIOOUE,  DIOOLB, 

Progressives  will  giggle, 
While  Moderates  moodily  moon  ; 

The  Democrats  laughed 

To  see  such  sport. 
And  the  Ratepayers  paid  for  the  tune. 

AN  INTERPRETATION  —The  following  advertisement  recently 
ippeared  in  the  Daily  1'elegraph: — 

"  LAD,  respectable,  WAHTID,  uied  to  vice  »nd  file." 

So  here  is  to  be  found  "  some  work,"  as  Dr.  WATTS  long  ago 
remarked,  "  for  idle  hands  to  do."  We  know  what  "  rank  and 
file  "  means  ;  and  here  "  vice  "  takes  the  place  of  "  rank."  Fer- 
tile "  may  be  the  slang  equivalent  for  the  French  fUer ;  if 
M>,  the  moaning  evidently  is  that  the  lad  accustomed  to  vice, 
i.e.,  the  vicious  lad,  must  also  be  able,  after  committing  the 
vicious  act,  ycelpt  of  picking  a  pocket,  to  filer  rite,  that  is,  to 
"cut  and  run." 


TOIi.    OXIII. 


M 


266 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI 


[DECEMBER  11,   1897. 


J 

=3    B 


Z 
< 


o 

z 


o 


A 

H 


11,  1897.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LOKDUN  CHARIVARI. 


'THE  COMEDY  OF  CULIELMUS  C/ESAR7 
POTSDAMICUS. 

1,000'ni  I'KKFOKMANCE. 
O.  C.  P.  addresses  His  I'lirluin, 

Reichstag!     Preparatory  to  a  shock 
I  now  declare  the  session  opened!     //•«/<.' 
Here  in  my  red  right  hand  I  hold  a  scheme 
For  fortifying  my  superb  regime: — 
To  execute  a  Navy,  large  and  fine. 
Worthy  your  Lord  and  his  tremendous  line, 
In  pure  formality  I  ask  the  nation 
To  vote  a  thousand  million  marks. 

[Se/i 

Our  noble  army,  you  will  understand, 
Is  limited  to  exercise  on  land  ; 
And  we  have  lately  planted  overseas 
A  pretty  set  of  budding  colonies ; 
Upon  official  maps  I  rather  hope 
You  may  remark  them  with  a  microscope. 
To  hold  the  highways  thither  nice  and  fret 
For  fruits  of  uerman  ingenuity, 
To  make  our  name,  the  Fatherland's  and 

Mine, 

A  holy  terror  on  the  heaving  brine 
\\  lien1  now  we  roll  in  antiquated  arks — 
For  this  I  want  the  paltry  billion  marks. 

Two   cruisers,    you    remember,  went   to 

Crete  : 

1  will  not  say  the  things  were  obsolete, 
But  still  it  cost  the  service  quite  a  strain 
To  mobilise  so  many  on  the  main. 
And  now  we  wish  for  even  more  than  these 
To  vindicate  the  law  in  Ka-lcni  sea*. 
Matters  have  reached  a  critical  condition 
Due  to  an  outrage  on  my  Uerman  mission  ; 
Such  acts  do  not  affect  the  Church  alone, 
But,     what     is    more,    they     touch    your 

KAISEK'S  throne! 

His  slighted  honour  naturally  burns 
For  vengeance  in  the  form  of  quick  returns, 
Cash  down — a  couple  of  hundred  thousand 

taels, 

With  local  rights  for  laying  German  rails, 
Extinction  of  the  conscious  Mandarin, 
An  open  port  for  hibernating  in, 
Two  halters  for  the  guilty  when  detected, 
And  one  memorial  Dom  to  be  erected. 

Supposing  now  that  we  were  forced  to 

wreak 

This  kind  of  vengeance  every  other  week  ; 
Or    say — to    keep    within    the   bounds   ot 

reason — 

They  slew  a  brace  of  Teutons  every  season  ; 
By  roughly  calculating  China's  size 
The  meanest  intellect  must  recognise 
That   such   a   state  of  things   would  soon 

entail 

Activity  upon  a  noble  scale. 
And  since,  again,  the  overlandixh  route 
Is  fraught  with  peril  both  from  man  and 

brute, 

Our  safest  course,  for  this  and  other  trips, 
Is  to  construct  a  lot  of  costly  ships. 

U  Reichstag!  standing  on  this  sacred  floor 
Two  years  ago  I  positively  swore 
To  keep,   if  needful,  with   my  blood  and 

blade, 

The  realm  my  fathers  gave  me  ready-made. 
If  now,  with  my  immense  domain  inflated 
In   ways  your   WILLIAM   scarcely  contem- 
plated, 

I  yield  the  deadlier  duties  to  another, 
It  is  to  HENRY  here,  my  only  brother! 
His  life,  his  precious  life,  I  freely  stake, 
The  hardest  sacrifice  a  man  can  make ' 
My  part   is  done ;    your  work,  that  waits 

you  still, 
Is  relatively  light.    You  pay  the  bill. 


tfoble  Amateur  (to  Model).  "Do  YOU  EVER  SIT  TO  ORDINARY  ARTISTS?" 


"  The   Polite   Letter-Wiiter." 

A  NEW  manual  of  the  Epistolary  Art, 
showing  how  to  conduct  a  political  corre- 
spondence with  courtesy,  dignity,  and  good 
taste.  By  W.  V.  H-BC-BT  and  J-S-PH 
CH-MB-HI.-N. 


THE  HUMMING  PEST. 

"  OK  nuisances  that  stir  my  bile, 

Of  creatures  I  detest. 
There  "s  one  beyond  all  others  vile  " — 

A  nil  that's  the  humming  pest. 
Morn,  noon  and  night,  indoors  and  out, 

With  scraps  of  tune  he  greets  you, 
You  're  always  meeting  him  about, 

He 's  humming  when  he  meets  you. 

Self-satisfied  he  rolls  his  eyes, 

And  clears  his  beefy  throat. 
You  learn — you  would  not  otherwise — 

That  he 's  a  man  "  of  note." 
No  use,  on  seeing  him,  to  fly, 

He  constantly  defeats  you, 
He  will  not  let  you  pass  him  by— 

He 's  humming  when  he  meets  yon. 


However  fine  may  be  the  voice 

Which  Heaven  on  him  bestows, 
His  repertoire  however  choice. 

I  hate  his  humming  "  pose. 
Whene'er  he  sees  you  come  along, 

He  thoughtfully  repeats  you 
Some  sacred  air  or  comic  song — 

He 's  humming  when  he  meets  you. 

He'll    hum    "that    thing    of   MENDELS- 
SOHN'S," 

Some  WAONF.R  frit  motif, 
Or  bits  of  QBIBG  or  SIDNEY  JONES, 

With  gusto  past  belief. 
No  jot  for  your  distress  ha  cares, 

Remorselessly  be  treats  you 
To  some  of  his  confounded  "airs" — 

He  hums  whene'er  he  meets  you. 


ANSWERS  TO  CORRESPONDENTS. 
ARTFUL. — We  think  your  scheme  for  ob- 
taining an  appointment  ingenious,  though 
a  trifle  risky.  The  appointment  you  pro. 
bably  would  get  is  one  for  seven  yean — 
in  the  stone-quarrying  line,  on  the  Dorset 
poaat. 


268 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[DKCEMBKR  11,  1897. 


HtR    PHUTOtaRAPrt. 

Mr.  Pojjliam.   "OH,  THIS  ONE  is  LOVELY  !    I  WOJJDER  WHAT  SHK  WOULD  DO,  in-  I  WEKE  TO  PROPOSE  vox.  THE  OBIUINAL  ?' 
Olive.   "GIVE  YOU  THE  NEUAIIVE,  PERHAPS  !" 


UUK  BOOKING-OmCK 

Jorrocks,  M.F.H.,  who  was  the  Pickwick  of  the  hunting  field, 
and  the  delightfully-original  Soapy  tipoiige,  both  inimitably 
illustrated  by  JOHN  LEECH,  are  a  couple  of  sporting  stories  dun- 
cult  to  rival  and  hard  to  beat.  Mr.  Fox  KUBSELL,  however — the 
author's  name  has  a  decidedly  sporting  smack  about  it — comes  for- 
ward with  The  Haughty  shire  Hunt  (±SRADBURY,  AONEW,  &  Co.),  a 
lively  sporting  story  whose  hero  is  nearer  akin  lojorrucka  than  any 
character  the  Baron,  remembers  to  have  seen  in  sporting  fiction. 
And  Mr.  RUSSELL  has  had  the  good  luck  to  be  associated  with  Mr. 
R.  J.  RICHARDSON,  whose  method  of  illustration  is  entirely  his 
own,  whose  accurately-drawn  horses  and  riders  in  action  are 
I' full  of  go,"  but  whose  figures  and  situations  are  somewhat  lack- 
ing in  the  quality  of  humour.  That  the  "  toned  "  page  illustrations 
lose  in  effect  as  much  as  those  in  the  Jorrocks  and  Soapy  tiponyt 
series  gain  by  their  colour,  will,  the  Baron  thinks,  be  the  opinion  of 
all  who  have  the  facilities  at  hand  lor  making  the  comparison.  Artis- 
tically, the  majority  of  the  drawings, even  where  they  are  somewhat 
hard,  are  admirable  ;  while  not  a  few  of  the  single  figures,  as,  for 
instance,  that  of  Will  the  huntsman,  are,  from  every  point  of  view, 
except  the  humorous,  perfect.  The  sporting  adventures  of  Mr. 
Travers  Algernon  liinkie,  from  his  first  day's  run  with  the  Duke's 
hounds,  when  he  is  mounted  on  Marmion,  to  his  steeplechase 
on  The  Roman,  when  Marmion,,  with  Itonald  Dennison  up,  wins, 
are  genuinely  amusing;  while  the  scene  in  the  Law  Courts  is  a 
capital  climax  to  the  story.  In  his  next  sporting  novel,  the  Baron 
trusts  that  Mr.  Fox  RUSSELL  will  carefully  avoid  the  very  old- 
fashioned  descriptive  nomenclature  which  he  has  adopted  for  his 
characters,  as,  for  example,  "  Hauglityshire,"  "  Fitzsquander," 
"Farmer  Wintercabbage,"  ''Karl  Krackwhipz,"  "Bey.  Geoffry 
Jawbrother,"  "  Lord  Gravity,"  "  Miss  Lumpkin,"  which  are  of 
the  kind  that,  in  bygone  days,  were  to  be  found  in  some  comedies, 


most  farces,  and  in  bills  of  the  play  at  Christmas-time,  when,  in 
order  to  swell  the  cast,  the  manager  was  wont  to  bestow  humor- 
ous names  on  a  variety  of  '•  supers  "  and  small  people,  who  were 
paid  to  be  seen,  but  on  no  account  to  be  heard,  except 
collectively. 

The  M  urld  gives  a  fully-illustrated  Christmas  Number,  con- 
taining two  large  pictures  by  Mr.  BRYAN,  crammed  lull  of  a  lot 
of  persons  representing,  as  usual,  "  celebrities,"  who,  on  this 
occasion,  have  not  the  air  of  appearing  in  the  least  "  at  home." 
ihe  double  illustration  is  accompanied  by  a  list  of  these  eminent 
individuals ;  but  it  would  have  been  more  in  keeping  with 
Christmas-time  to  have  issued  it  as  a  sort  of  "  puzzle-picture," 
and  to  have  ottered  a  prize  to  anyone  who  should  guess  correctly 
the  names  of  all  the  more-or-less  celebrated  individuals  whose 
likenesses  the  artist  had  intended  to  represent. 

As  to  the  cards  which  Father  Christmas  leaves  on  us  when 
he  calls,  there  is  quite  an  old-fashioned  cheeriness  of  coloui 
about  MARCUS  \\ARD  tfc  Co.'s  Christmas  cards,  and  if  "it  is 
humour  you  want,"  as  Mr.  BRANDON  THOMAS  used  to  say  in  The 
Pantomime  Itehearsal,  it  is  provided  in  the  liveliest  varia- 
tions. The  calendars  and  almanacs  tell  the  coming  year  in  the 
most  artistic  surroundings.  Messrs.  C.  VV.  FAULKNER  &  Co.'s 
cards  take  Christmas  a  little  more  seriously  in  their  exquisite 
platinotypes,  of  which  some  are  worthy  of  a  frame,  and  their 
calendars,  especially  "The  Minuet"  series,  make  the  days  dance 
in  the  "  daintiest  "  possible  fashion.  If  you  ask  this  Firm,  "  What  'b 
your  little  game  at  Christmas  ?  "  they  will  reply,  "  Oh,  ever  so  man} 
novelties,  including  '  Association  Football,'  intended  for  draw- 
ing-room amusement ! "  As  this  announcement  will  startle 
grandmammas  and  domesticated  elderly  aunts,  it  is  as  well  to 
explain  that  it  is  only  a  drawing-table  edition  of  "  Socker," 
that 's  all. 

"It  is  now  some  'sixty  years  since'  Pickwick  was  published," 


DECEMBU,  11,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR   Till-;    LONDON    CllAIM  \.\KI. 


269 


writes  the  indefatigable  and  undefeated  Dickensian  student,  ' 
.Mr.  PntOT  I'  IT/.UKKALD,  iu  his  latest  book,  entitled  1'ickuntkiun 
Mniiiu T.S  a,,, I  ('ii*tiniis  (Hoxburghe  Press,  Limited),  "and  it  1.1 
si  ill  heartily  appreciated."  True:  it  is  "still  heartily  appre- 
ciaied"  by  those  who  enjoyed  I'nl.u-ick  when  they  were  ljo\s 
together;  the  girls  never  cared  for  it;  but  among  those  ol  a 
lain-  i  line,  dating,  say,  even  so  far  back  as  the  sixties,  Imw 
many  ure  there  who  euro  about  I'ttkiruk!  while  among  those 
win iso  existence  dates  from  1878,  for  example,  the  Haron  ques- 
tions whether  -Mr.  FITZGERALD  will  tind  one  iu  thirty  who  m.i.i 
have  tried  to  read  1'icku-ick  and  failed,  and  not  one  in  titty  wlio 
have  "heartily  appreciated"  the  immortal  work.  But,  be  in., 
M  it  may,  .Mr.  PKIICY  FITZGERALD'S  book  on  l'i,-kii-irl;iuii  Miinnu* 
unil  <'uf,liiiii.i  will  prove  attractive  and  interesting  to  all  who 
love  their  1'ickwick.  He  has  started  a  theory,  uo  less 
pl.ui-.iblu  than  ingenious,  as  to  the  probability  that  BOBWKLL'S 
I. iff  uf  ,li,/,nM>n  to  a  certain  extent  inspired  DICKENS  in  the 
creation  iii  Mi-.  1'ickicick  and  his  followers.  To  the  Barons 
thinking,  -Mr.  FITZGERALD'S  chapter  on  "  Boz "  and  "  Bozzy  " 
proves  this  beyond  the  possibihty  of  doubt.  The  thanks  of  all 
genuine  1'ickwickians  are  due  to  Mr.  KII/.(.KHAI.D  for  this  notable 
addition  to  the  "Boz"  classics. 

.My  BurointoBs  informs  me  that  H'Ud  Kitty,  by  L.  T.  MKAEIK 
(\V.  AND  K.  CHAMBERS),  is  a  capital  book  for  schoolgirls.  Kitty 
leaves  the  "  ould  counthry  "  to  be  educated  in  a  select  Euglis.. 
school.  The  primness  of  the  genteel  Briton  proves  upsetting  to 
the  Hibernian,  temperament,  and  this  young  lady,  from  a  castle, 
apparently  iu  the  backwoods,  gets  into  many  a  scrape.  The 
"Hooruah!"  and  the  "shillelagh"  are,  however,  actually  not 
among  her  accomplishments  I 

Vine's  Majician,  by  FRED  WHISHAW,  with  many  effective  illus- 
trations by  LKWIS  BAUMER  (W.  AND  K.  CHAMBERS),  has  no  deal- 
ings in  "  magic  and  spells,  but  is  a  genuine  golden  man,  whu 
eventually  discovers  himself  at  the  correct  moment  as  the  louf 
lost  grandfather — "\Vhich  his  name  it  was  \\ALKKH!"  Uoou 
name  for  a  wandering  grand-parent. 

Princess  tjurah,  aiut  Other  Tales,  by  JOHN  STRANGE  \\INTEK 
(WARD,  LOCK  it  Co.),  may  possibly  prove  entertaining  to  the 
ordinary  "  maid  of  bashful  fifteen,"  except  that,  perhaps,  nowa- 
days, observes  my  Barouitess,  "  bashful  fifteen"  is  extraordinary, 
for  whom  something  stronger  and  more  exciting  may  be  re- 
quired. The  stories  are  rather  commonplace,  which  is  Strange 
for  JOHN  WINTER. 

''  By  the  aiuuor  of  Tatterley,"  set  forth  on  the  cover  of  a  new 
book,  is  a  pinase  to  conjure  with.  In  A  I'rince  of  Mischance 
(H0TCHINBON),  Mr.  Tou  GALLON  has  broken  fresh  ground.  The 
household  in  tue  Professor's  home  by  the  seaside  is  full  of  living 
people,  the  Professor  being  a  delightfully  original  person  from 
whose  company  we  part  all  too  soon.  All  the  characters  in  the 
story  stand  firmly  forth,  interest  culminating  in  Evelyn.  It 
would  not  be  fair  even  to  hint  at  the  lines  of  her  story,  or 
the  finely-conceived  tragedy  in  which  it  closes.  Readers  of 
Tatterli-y  will  find  no  disappointment  in  making  the  acquaintance 
of  the  author's  new  essay.  TUB  BABON  UK  B.-W. 

AN  ACKNOWLEDGMENT  AND  A  MYSTERY. — A  Bottle  of  "  Stick- 
phast  Paste  "  in  magnificent  morocco-leather  case.  "  We  saw  it 
for  a  moment,  but  we  think  we  see  it  now  " — only  we  don't  at  this 
minute.  One  of  the  youngest  and  wisest  of  our  office  boys,  since 
lost  to  sight,  but  to  memory  dear,  was,  it  is  reported,  heard  to 
declare,  concerning  the  aforesaid  paste,  that  "  it  was  uncommon 
good  if  you  were  very  hungry,"  ana  if,  like  the  Marchioness,  "you 
made  believe  very  much."  Neither  that  youngest  and  wisest 
official,  nor  the  stickphast  paste,  has  ever  been  seen  again.  But 
we  must  not  conclude  from  this  that  the  lad  is  a  thorough-paste 
young  rascal. 

DECIDEDLY  EXAGGERATED. — I'ord  BALKOUR  o'  Burleigh,  in  his 
speech  at  Glasgow,  ''offered  Sir  WILLIAM  HARCOURT  his  hupiblc 
congratulations  on  his  having  at  last  found  a  platform  upon 
which  he  could  stand,"  &c.,  &c.  No!  no  I  Sir  WILLIAM  is  not 
so  mightily  heavy  as  to  find  any  difficulty  in  getting  the  support 
of  an  ordinary  platform  of  fairly  liberal  dimensions.  Sir  WILLIAM 
is  big,  but  he  is  not  burly. • 

GOOD  OMEN  FOR  THE  LONDON  SCHOOL  BOARD.— That  this  body 
should  now  be  illumined  by  a  Reay  of  light — and  leading. 

WANTED! — Strong  man  as  President  of  the  Reicbsrath.  Fx- 
pri/.e-fighter  or  chucker-out  preferred.  Good  social  position 
and  salary.  Permanency  to  suitable  man.  Must  be  used  to 
black  eyes.  Doctors  and  raw  beef  supplied.  Apply,  statini; 
qualifications,  number  of  men  knocked  out,  Ac.,  dko.,  to  Chief 
Clerk,  Reichsrath,  Vienna. 


UP    FOR    THE    CATTLE    SHOW. 

Old  Style  of  Farmer.  New  Style  of  Farmer. 

"AVK,  I  BE  OOINO  TO  THE  "  Now,  LET  ME  SI  K.  MUST 
SHOW,  THEN  ON  TO  THE  WAX-  HAVE  A  LOOK  AT  THE  PlCTUKE 
WORKS,  AND  WIND  UP  AT  THE  SHOWS  IN  BoND  STREET,  CALL  ON 
ADELPHI."  TAILOR,  GET  THE  LATEST  NECKTIE 

IN  BURLINGTON  ARCADE,  LOOK  IN 
AT  THE  EMPIRE.  CATILE  SHOW  < 
NEVER  GO  NEAR  SUCH  A  PLACE  I" 


OUR  ADVERTISERS. 

IT  would  be  a  pity  not  to  rescue  from  oblivion  such  a  delightful 
advertisement  as  the  following,  which  appears  in  the  Church 
Times:— 

"  WANTED,  two  Ladies  as  COOK  and  HOUSEMAID,  to  (hare  entire  woik  <  f 
North  Country  Seaside  Vicarage.  Two  •  hildren  and  resident  goremeas.  It 
•alary  required  by  both,  state  amount  Organ  desirable  in  one. 

Surely  no  la<ly  would  require  a  salary  for  the  privilege  of 
"  sharing  "  the  household  duties  in  this  charming  retreat.  An 
occasional  peep  at  the  Bass  Rock  or  Flamborough  Head  would 
be  ample  remuneration  combined  with  the  delights  of  playing 
the  organ  gratis,  and  possibly  managing  a  chour,  and  feeling 
that,  after  all,  one  was  of  some  use  in  the  world.  Perhaps  an 
aggrieved  baronet,  or  even  a  needy  viscount,  might  be  induced 
to  officiate  as  gardener-coachman  for  a  similarly  nominal  salary 
in  this  philanthropic  establishment.  The  wonder  is,  that  per- 
sons in  menial  situations  continue  any  longer  to  accept  "  wage*  " 
as  well  as  hospitality  in  return  for  their  services.  Any  right- 
minded  lady  or  nobleman  could  only  construe  such  a  pecuniary 
otfer  as  an  insult  to  their  birth  and  breeding.  And  in  the 
beautiful  new  century  that  is  HOW  approaching,  we  expect  that 
individuals  of  whatever  rank,  even  generals,  with  any  spark 
of  gratitude  and  good  feeling,  will  pay  their  mistresses  a  hand- 
some premium,  in  addition  to  an  annual  fee,  for  the  comfort, 
experience,  distinction,  and  company  of  two  children  and  a 
resident  governess  obtainable  in  quiet  north-country  seaside 
homes.  What  offers,  ladies  P 

AT    URUGUAY. — "An    ex-policeman"    attempted    to    stab    the 
nt.      Providentially  his  design  was   fru-trated.      "An   t-x 
policeman!"     Ah!     THACKERAY'S  ''Policeman   X."  would  never 
hare  behaved  in  so  dastardly  a  manner. 


PUNCH,   OR   THE   LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  11,  1897. 


AMBIGUOUS. 

First  Actress.   "OH,  MY  DEAK,  I'M  FEELING  so  CHIPPY!     I  THINK  I  SHALL  SEND  DOWN  A  DOCTOR'S  CERTIFICATE  TO-NIGHT,  TO 
SAY  I  CAN'T  ACT.  '  Secwtd  Ditto.  " SURELY  A  CERTIFICATE  ISN'T  NECESSARY,  DEAR?" 


TO  THE  CREW  OF  THE  MARGATE  SURF-BOAT, 
"  FEIEND  TO  ALL  NATIONS." 

ALL  night  the  pitiless  blast  had  swept 
Out  of  the  North-East  blind  as  hell ; 

Ere  dawn,  the  sudden  signal  leapt, 
Death's  meteor-signal  leapt  and  fell. 

Then,  as  the  cry  for  rescue  rang, 

With  quick  farewell  to  child  and  wife 

Into  the  roaring  surf  they  sprang 

To  yield  their  lives  for  the  stranger  life. 

Friend  to  all  Nations!     Friend  at  need, 

Where  danger  sets  the  task  to  do ! 
Not  ill  they  chose  a  name  to  speed 

The  gallant  craft  of  a  gallant  crew. 

Stout  hearts  of  Kent,  that  heard  the  call 
Of  man  to  man  in  the  face  of  death ! 

Is  this,  is  this  the  end  of  all — 

These  bodies  dank  with  the  salt  sea's  breath  I- 

Nay,  but  their  names  shall  stand  in  gold 
When  the  opened  books  of  God  are  read, 

With  deeds  remembered  and  deeds  untold 
That  wait  till  the  sea  gives  up  its  dead ! 


APPROPRIATE  ETON  BOAT-SONG  (as  duet)  FOR  THE  CHHISTMAS 
CRACKER  SEASON.— Pull,  Pull  Together!  with  our  compliments 
to  the  famed  cracker-purveyors,  Messrs.  SPARAONAPANK  &  Co. 


RETAINED  FOR  THE  DEFENCE. 

["  Ladies  ure  being  enrolled  us  hon.  members  of  a  Volunteer  Corps  in 
Devonshire." — Daily  Paper.~\ 

"  AND  so  it  was  at  Exeter  that  the  first  of  us  were  enrolled  as 
honorary  members,"  said  the  Major,  looking  into  the  glass  and 
arranging  a  refractory  curl. 

"  Yes,"  returned  the  senior  Captain,  "  and  since  then  we 
have  grown  apace.  Battalions  all  over  the  country,  and  a  fail- 
force  of  artillery." 

"Yes,"  assented  a  Subaltern.  "Actually  that  branch  of  the 
service  became  very  popular  on  the  introduction  of  noiseless 
powder." 

"  Talking  of  noise,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  don't  you  think  we 
could  substitute  a  cottage  for  the  grand  piano  in  the  orchestra  ?  " 

"  Afraid  not,"  replied  the  chief  of  the  Band  Committee,  "  for 
we  want  something  strong  in  strings  to  go  with  the  harps." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  exclaimed  the  chief,  looking  at  the  clock.  "  It 's 
time  for  parade.  We  must  have  missed  the  bugle  call." 

"Yes,  Ma'am,  all  our  buglers  are  rather  feeble  in  sounding. 
They  cannot  compare  with  our  brothers  of  the  line." 

"Then,  ladies,  fall  in." 

"  Which  is  better  than  falling  out,"  whispered  the  regimental 
wag.  And  a  few  moments  later  the  members  of  the  Amazon  Rifle 
Volunteers  appeared  on  parade. 

"  Hem  I  "  commented  the  male  military  critic.  "  Smart  I  but 
what  would  they  do  in  time  of  war?"  Then,  on  consideration, 
he  added,  "  It  should  be  sine  qua  non  that  only  single  recruits 
should  be  eligible,  and  they  must  have  come  safely  out  of  at 
least  two  engagements." 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON   ( 'HA HI VARI.— Dmnaam  11.  1897. 


JOHN 


A  BOUNDARY  QUESTION. 

HULL.  "BEG  PARDON,   MONSIEUR       BUT  P'RAPS  YOU   DIDNT  NOTICE   THAT  BUARDt" 


DECEMBER  11,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


273 


IN  mm 

\)tr  (Toul 

art     bit/ 


NEW    IMPERIAL    "  OCCUPATION." 


,  THE.  GERMAN  EMPEROR'S  StvxxTH  DEMAND  IN  HIS  NOTE  TO  n  B 
CHINESE  GOVERNMENT  is  "  TUB  OCCUPATION  of  KIAO-CHAU  v> 
QMRMAXY  AS  A  (JOALjx9_STATioit."  _  MR.  PUNCH  WISHES  WILLIAM, 
KAISER  AND,  COAL-MERCHANT,  EVERY  snccjtss  IN  HIS  "COAL/NJ 
BUSINESS" — it  BTKICTLY  " LHHTXD." 


IN  RE—  PINKIBTON'S  INSURANCE. 

PART  \.—lluw  Air.  Briefless,  Junior  accepted  a,  Reference. 

"  I  AM  going  to  ask  you  to  do  me  a  slight  favour,"  said  PIN- 
" 


, 

but  if  you  graut  it,  it  will  confer  a  chronic  blessing  on 
my  whole  life." 

I  need  scarcely  say  I  was  only  too  pleased  to  be  of  the  slightest 
service  to  PINKERTON.  He  occupies  chambers  beneath  those 
bearing  my  name  (and  others),  and  when  I  visit  Pump  Handle 
Jourt  1  usually  run  across  him.  He  is  considerably  my  junior, 
joth  in  years  and  professional  standing.  This  being  so,  I 
thought  it  possible  he  might  wish  to  consult  me. 

"If  you  desire  my  counsel  on  the  conduct  of  a  consent 
)rief  —  -"  I  begun. 

"  Oh,  no,  it  's  nothing  of  that  sort,"  interrupted  my  learned 
riend.  "  The  fact  is,  as  1  am  going  to  be  married  1  want  to 
insure  my  life." 

"A  very  proper  thing  to  do,"  I  said,  heartily.  "  When  under- 
:aking  the  responsibilities  of  the  married  state,  which  are,  in 
reality,  bound  by  an  expressed  contract,  it  is  desirable  -  " 

"Yes,  yes,"  again  interrupted  PINKEKTON,  "I  know  all  that, 
nit  the  fact  is,  in  your  unprofessional  capacity  1  want  you  to  do 
me  a  favour." 

I  was  a  little  annoyed  at  my  learned  friend's  tone.     Although 

do  not  appear  in  the  Courts  quite  so  frequently  as  I  did  in  1  1n 

lays  of  my  hot  youth  —  yet  as  recently  as  shortly  before  the  long 

vacation  I  was  briefed  to  support  an  application  for  the  appoint- 

ment  of  a  receiver  in  chambers—  I   am  regarded,   and  I   think 

ightly  regarded,  as  a  legal  authority  of  weight  in  the  bosom  ot 

my   family.     My  maiden  aunt,  CAROLINE  AUELAIDB,   invariably 

onsults  me  before  adding  (,she  has  added  several)  a  codicil  to 

ler  will,  and  as  for  Uncle  JACK  —  a  most  vigorous  old  gentleman 

>f  ninety-four  —  he  keeps  me  quite  busily  employed  in  reading 

is  letters  to  the  Urban  Council.     My  maiden  Aunt,  CAROLKO 

LDBLAIDB,   was  —  §o  she  said  —  infinitely  obliged   to   me   for  my 


opinion  on  the  probable  validity  of  a  legacy  left  to  a  parrot,  and 
I  in  I,-  JACK  was  equally  thankful  when  I  prevented  him  from 
sending,  as  a  privileged  (•(iniiniiinc.it  mn,  In*  ,, punon  in  writing 
to  the  clerk  ot  the  U.  C.  anent  tin-  I  .rveji.r  'I 

individual  was  a  "  blithering  idiot,"  and  what  was  worae — from 
a  legal  point  ot  view  "tip  rereiver."  I'ndc  .U<  K  agreed  with 
me,  on  recovering  from  his  attack  of  gout,  that  his  'pi 
ei.niiiiiiiucation"  would  probably  have  Uncled  him  in  Holloway. 
So  I  repeat,  I  was  displeased  with  PiNkKRTON's  tone — it  savoured 
i.l  disrespect. 

"I    .uu    nothing    if    not   professional,"   I    mid,   with   a   grave 
smile.     "  Of  course,  I  shall  be  only  too  pleased  to  aerve  you." 
"Well,  it's  only  to  U-,  on,,-   my   sinetj       'I  !»•   medical  Johnny 
iimneil  me  auid  1  was  right  enough,  but  he  must  have  a 
liirm  tilled  in  by  a  friend  of  some  yean'  standing  before  be  could 
recommend  his  board  to  accept  roe." 

"I  see,"  I  returned.  "I  shall  be  very  happy,  but  I  am  bound 
to  say  that  I  shall  have  to  answer  the  questions  put  me  with  the 
nicest  regard  as  to  their  truthfulness." 

"  I  expect  nothing  less,"  said  PINKEBTON,  in  rather  a  nasty 
tone.  "Of  course,  my  dear  fellow,  I  don't  want  you  to  tell  a 
pack  of  lies,  but  still,  if  you  have  any  hesitation  about  it  I  can 
easily  get  GEORGE  DE  PUTRE  POM*  to — 

'•Not  at  all,"  I  replied,  promptly.  I  don't  like  Di  PITTBI 
POTTB.  He  suggests  to  my  mind  a  donkey  suffering  from  ex- 
aggerated self-complacency.  And  the  matter  waa  settled 

"  You  might  give  me  a  hint  or  two,"  I  continued.  "  How  did 
you  get  on  with  the  examining  doctor  P  " 

"  V\  hat,  the  medicaf  Johnny  ?  Oh,  first  rate.  He  weighed 
me,  and  said  I  was  satisfactory  to  an  ounce." 

I  was  a  little  surprised  at  this,  as  PINKBBTON  is  distinctly 
thin.  I  myself  am  only  fifteen  stone  to  five  feet  nine,  and  I  am 
certainly  portly  as  compared  with  ray  learned  friend. 

"Then  he  punched  me  in  the  chest  and  listened  with  a  thing 
like  one  of  those  theatrical  telephone-tubes  to  bear  the  echoes." 
"  And  was  the  condition  of  your  lungs  to  his  satisfaction  P  " 
"  Eminently — he  said  I  was  as  sound  as  a  bell.     Then  he  made 
me  hop  about  the  room  on  one  leg  like  a  demented  duck." 

"  1  see.  No  doubt  to  test  the  muscles  of  your  foot."  I  have 
some  knowledge  of  anatomy. 

"  Probably.  Then  he  listened  for  the  music  again,  and  de- 
clared my  heart  to  be  perfection.  I  waa  Tery  pleased,  aa,  to 
tell  the  truth,  I  had  rather  worried  myself  by  reading  The 
Dictionary  uf  the  Incurable,  by  Doctor  ZBBO." 

"Unquestionably  a  text-book  of  commanding  importance." 
"  So  I  thought  until  1  found  that  I  had  the  symptoms  of  fifteen 
fatal  diseases,   of   which  two   thirds  should  terminate  abruptly 
within  a  week." 

"I  need  scarcely  say  that  your  apprehension  waa  not 
realised  t"  I  am  apt  sometimes  to  become  unconsciously  a  croaa- 
examiner. 

"  You  are  perfectly  right  in  that  assumption.  I  am  still  alive, 
and  if  I  may  believe  the  medical  Johnny,  nave  no  need  to  make 
my  will  for  the  next  twenty  years.  In  fact,  as  the  doctor  bade 
me  adieu,  he  predicted  that  I  would  be  on  the  books  of  the  com- 
pany until  I  was  eighty." 
"  Distinctly  satisfactory." 

"So  I  thought.  So.  my  dear  fellow,  when  the  form  arrives, 
fill  it  in  according  to  the  dictates  of  your  conscience." 

"That  I  assuredly  will,"  I  returned,  heartily,  aa  I  wrung 
PINKERTON'S  hand  warmly.  "I  am  confident  that  all  will  be 
well." 

"  I  would  be  grieved  beyond  measure  if  I  did  not  share  in  that 
belief,"  said  my  learned  friend.  "  ALICE  U  the  dearest  girl  alive." 
And  then  PINKERTON  gave  me  a  detailed  account  of  how, 
when,  and  where  he  had  met  his  /lancet,  and  other  details— 
from  his  point  of  view — of  an  interesting  character.  At  length 
he  left  me.  and  I  turned  my  attention  to  my  notes  upon  a  book 
I  contemplate  writing  some  day,  to  be  called,  J-'mm  the  Gown  of 
the  Student  to  the  Chancellor1!  Wig,  with  the  sub-title  of  The 
Experiences  uf  a  Practising  Barrister,  when  my  admirable  and 
excellent  clerk  PORTINOTON  entered  the  room. 

"  I  think,  Sir,  this  is  something  more  than  a  circular,"  he  said. 
I  allow  my  valued  assistant  a  certain  latitude  in  the  selection  of 
documents  to  be  destroyed  or  preserved. 

"  Thank  you,"  I  replied,  and  then  I  opened  an  envelope  bear- 
ing a  type-written  name  and  address.  I  glanced  at  the  con- 
tents. A  form  to  be  filled  in  about  the  health  of  PI.VKBBTON. 
I  read  the  questions  more  carefully,  and  my  mind  became  much 
disturbed.  They  were  distinctly  of  an  embarrassing  character. 
How  I  replied  to  them,  and  what  was  the  effect  of  my  answers 
must  be  reserved  for  another  chapter. 

1'wmp-Ilandle  Court.          (Signed)      A.  HRIIFLBSS,  JU.VIOB. 
December  1,  1897. 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI 


11,    1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


276 


SOW  IS  FOR  THK  NATION. 

'  An\K<»h    may   rnaki1  fhf  I:IWR  of  a  nHti'm,  !'•! 
nir  iiKilii1  its  minim."     .V/»i<'»/><v/,v,  nr  Kumilmdy. 

Hi-inking  N»M(7.t.  Tho  drinking  song  is 
a  necessity  of  human  nature,  hut  a  great 
deal  tna.v  bp  done  to  guide  it  (the  song) 
into  proper  channels.  I  would  catch  the 
thoughtless  with  guile  by  preserving  the 
time-honoured  tone,  while  pointing  out  a 
more  excellent  way.  Notice  the  sort  of 
-./IP  in  moral  purpose  which  rulini 
nat»s  in  the  third  verse  of  the  specimen 
given.  \VTien  singing  this  song,  proceed 
warily,  and  omit  the  third  verse  if  you 
observe  symptoms  of  discontent.  It  may 
even  be  advisable  to  stop  short  «t  the  first, 
hut  be  assured  that  the  serious  element 
must  prevail  in  the  long  run. 

BACCHANALIAN. 

Come,  jolly  topers,  one  and  all, 
Together  we  will  stand  or  fall, 
Fill  up  the  radiant  bowl  with  wine, 
And  lemonade  that 's  half  divine  ; 
Our  hearts  are  light,  our  spirits  free, 
So  here  's  to  you  and  here 's  to  me. 

Chonu< 

Every  man-jack  of  us  reeling  with  jollity, 
Now  is  the  moment  for  utter  frivolity, 
Not  to  be  jolly  is  most  reprehensible, 
Hang  any  villain  who  dares  to  be  sensible  ' 
Gaze  on  the  liquor  surpassingly  fair. 
Drink  of  the  claret-cup  radiant  and  rare, 
Hurrah  1 

But  lo  I  amid  our  frantic  cheers 

A  medicated  wine  appears. 

A  tonic  is  a  thing  of  might, 

Of  eestacy  and  pure  delight. 

The  finest  drugs,  the  choicest  steel 

To  every  British  heart  appeal. 

Chnrux. 

Wine  that  is  useful  for  gout  and  paralysis, 
Wine  that  has  stood  every  test  of  analysis 
Wine  that  will  save  you  from  hopeless 

inanity, 

Ring  out  its  praise  to  the  verge  of  insanity, 
Fie  on  the  fogies  who  call  you  a  beast, 
Drink  to  the  dregs  half-a-tenspoon  at  least ! 
Hurrah  I 

Encore  verse. 

What,  ho!     The  tonic,  too,  retires, 
And  "pales  its  ineffectual  fires" 
Before  the  very  prince  of  drinks, 
From  which  the  nerveless  milksop  shrinks. 
No  heel-taps,  boys,  mock  care  and  toil 
In  lovely  Norway's  golden  oil  1 

Chorus. 

Cod  liver  oil,  boys!  oh,  the  delight  of  it! 
Cod  liver  oil !  we  will  all  make  a  night  of  it 
Cod  liver  oil !  it  is  making  a  man  of  you, 
Phosphates  are  good   for  the  whole   jolly 

clan  of  you, 
Weak  little  stomachs  may  turn  from  the 

treat, 

We  will  insist  upon  having  it  neat. 
Hurrah! 


A   General   Question  of  Stop-it. 

Determined  Foxhunter  (to  Determined 
Game-preserver).  Why  should  you  §top 
earttur 

l>:'ti'rmined  Game-preserver.  Why  shoulc 
you  stop  shooting? 
[A  nd  then  they  get  angry,  both  beinj  two  of  the 
best  fellows  in  the  world.     So  Mr.  Punch 
a  full,  stop  after  ecu-h  nf  the  queries. 


TRIALS    OF    A    NOVICE. 

The  Soy  (to  Brown,  who  hat  just  taktn  a  "  little  place  "  in  the  Conntry).  "  PLAZE,  Zl'B,  WOT 

RE  I  TO  START  OS  t  ' 

Brown.  "On— ER—E»— LET'S  SKE OH,  CONFOUND  IT  !—  in—  EK— MAX*  A  BOXFIMX.''' 


THE  PLETHORA  OF  BOOKS. 
(By  an  Intermittent  Author.) 

[Mr.  LESLIE  STEPHBN.  in  /.i/.iWwr.  aivocates 
that  books  should  be  printed  on  pcri-hiible  mate- 
rials, on  account  of  the  ia<tly-ii]cT(iasiiig|iul>li*ln1ii<' 
output. 1 
TO-DAY  the  Caliph  OMAR'S  robe 

On  I. KM. IK  STKPHKN  ha-  dMMnd0d  ; 
With  itthrr  writers'  works  offended, 
Ho 's  turned  a  bitter  bibliophobe. 

He  "d  have  them,  ere  a  hundred  years 
Elapse,  or  sooner,  wholly  perish  ; 
No  libraries  need  longer  cherish 

The  toil  of  scribes  and  sonneteers. 

Nay,  pertani  gut  ante  no* 

Dixere  no.tfra  is  my  feeling 
On  SHAKSPBAKB  and  his  tribe  for  stealing 
My  masterpieces  by  the  gross  1 

How  can  one  write  when  ev'rything 
Worth  writing  has  been  writ  already? 
How  can  the  stream  continue  steady. 

Yet  fresh,  of  annual  "  Odes  to  Spring  "  ? 

My  sympathy  I  freely  lend 
To  prosy  rivals  and  poetr 


I  'd  print  in  ink  that  's  sympathrtir 
Each  of  their  works  from  end  to  end  I 

Why  can't  some  law  obliterate 
All  books  that  ever  have  been  printed  • 
Then,  as  I  previously  have  hinted, 

My  in<i</initii  opus  I  'd  create  I 

MOTOR  CAR-ACTERISTICS. 

(By  an  Old  Whip.) 

JERKING  and  jolting, 
Bursting  and  bolting, 
Smelling  and  steaming. 
Shrieking  and  screaming. 
Snorting  and  shaking, 
Quivering,  quaking, 
Skidding  and  slipping, 
Twisting  and  tripping, 
Bumping  and  bounding, 
Puffing  and  pounding, 
Rolling  and  rumbling. 
Thumping  and  tumbling. 
Such  I  've  a  notion, 
Motor-car  motion. 


SUITABLE      DBCORATIOXH      FOR      HBRP 
WINTBR  BOMB.— A  freeze. 


276 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  11,  1897. 


J 


(l 


v-V 


'INTS    ON    'UNTING,    BY    'ARRY. 

SlT  WELL   BACK    AT  YD  I'll   FENCES! 


SEASONABLE   LITERATURE. 

THE  LAST  CHAPTER  OF  A  CHRISTMAS 
NUMBER.     (1837.) 

"  HARRY,"  said  Sir  JASPER,  with  a  sob 
strangely  foreign  to  his  wonted  lack  ot 
feeling,  "  you  must  forgive  me.  I  don't 
deserve  it,  I  know.  Through  forty-seven 
pages  my  ingenious  schemes  have  kept  you 
and  your  MARY  apart,  and  if  that  missing 
will  hadn't  turned  up,  I  should  have  won 
the  game.  But  you  won't  be  hard  on  a 
poor  old  villain,  HARRY,  my  boy  P  There  's 
only  a  page  or  two  more,  so  you  can  afford 
to  be  generous.  And,  if  my  words  are 
weak,  that  sound  will  reach  your  heart — 
the  sound  of  Christmas  bells !  " 

He  flung  open  the  window  as  he  spoke, 
and  the  chimes  from  the  sweet  old  village 
church  sounded  merrily  across  the  snow- 
covered  fields. 

"JASPER,"  answered  HARRY,  in  impres- 
sive tones,  "I  forgive  you.  If,  indeed,  I 
followed  my  natural  inclination,  I  should 
throw  you  out  of  window.  But  no  true 
hero  in  a  Christmas  number  was  ever  yet 


unmoved  by  the  sound  of  church  bells  in 
the  last  chapter.  I  forgive  you,  and  MARY 
forgives  me,  and  we  forgive  everybody 
else,  and  it  s  away  with  melancholy,  and 
up  with  the  holly,  and  let 's  be  jolly. 
There  's  only  a  page  more  to  fill,  and  we  '11 
end  the  story  in  the  proper  way.  To-night 
will  the  dear  old  Hall  re-echo  with  mirth 
and  happiness,  and  the  elders  will  unbend 
and  become  young  again.  Excuse  me  now. 
We  dine  at  six,  and  I  must  drink  a  gallon 
of  milk-punch  before  then." 

"  I  thank  you  !  "  cried  Sir  JASPER.  "  Now 
that  you  Ve  foiled  all  my  schemes,  I  was 
sure  you  'd  forgive  me.  My  regards  to 
Miss  MARY,  and  after  a  few  glasses  of  hot 
brandy-and-water,  I  '11  step  round  to  the 
Hall." 

And  that  night  they  revelled  in  the  most 
thorough-going  style.  All  of  them  were 
there,  the  hero  HARRY,  and  the  heroine 
MARY,  and  the  villain  JASPER,  together 
with  the  old-fashioned  uncle,  the  humorous 
mother-in-law,  and  lots  of  other  characters 
who  have  been  mentioned  incidentally  in 
the  story,  and  long  since  forgotten.  Every 
one  of  them  turned  up  for  the  old-fashioned 


Christmas  revel.  And  there  was  roast  beef, 
and  mistletoe,  and  Sir  Roger  de  Covi-rley, 
and  snapdragon,  and  blind-man's  buff,  and 
ghost  stories,  and  love-making,  and,  above 
all,  gallons  and  gallons  of  punch.  Not  till 
every  drop  of  the  latter  was  finished  did 
the  company  disperse.  Finally  they  left 
in  pairs,  to  be  married  next  morning,  and 
to  live  happily  ever  after,  which  is  the  only 
proper  way  of  finishing  up  an  old-fashioned 
Christmas  number. 

THE  SAME  CHATTER.     (1897.) 

At  the  window  of  the  foulest  garret  in 
the  shims  of  London  (for  full  description, 
i-iWc  previous  pages),  HAHRY  the  hero  stood 
and  twiddled  his  thumbs.  With  a  languid 
interest  he  watched  a  cat  in  the  yard 
lick  its  paw,  and  miaow  twice.  Then  he 
turned  to  his  companion  and  regarded  him 
curiously. 

"JASPER,"  he  said,  with  a  yawn,  "don't 
vou  think  we  might  as  well  end  somewhere 
here  ?  " 

"Just  as  you  like,"  answered  JASPER, 
who  was  sitting  on  a  dust-heap  in  the  far 
corner.  "It  really  doesn't  matter  where 
we  stop  in  a  story  of  this  kind,  one  place 
does  as  well  as  another." 

"There  isn't  much  to  go  on  with,"  re- 
nlied  HARRY,  thoughtfully  chewing  a  piece 
of  string.  "Now  that  you've  murdered 
MARY,  and  all  the  others  are  disposed  of, 
it's  about  time  to  finish.  I  can't  go  on 
talking  to  you  for  many  more  pages." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  JASPER  replied.  "  We  can 
•ilways  fill  up  the  gaps  with  '  dreary 
"ilences."  Surely  you  don't  hate  me  ?  " 

HARRY  sig'ied.  "Nobody  hates  in 
modern  stories — that  is  far  too  strong  an 
emotion.  But,  as  you  've  killed  my  fiancte, 
besides  murdering  three  other  characters, 
nnd  drivins  five  more  to  suicide,  I  do 
slightly  dislike  you.  Here's  the  poison 
bottle,  and  there's  just  enoueh  left  for  us 
both.  You  're  sure  none  of  the  others  are 
'eft  out  by  mistake  ?  How  about  that 
"ostermonger  mentioned  on  the  second 
.age  ?  " 

"  Sent  to  penal  servitude,"  responded 
TASPER.  "And  his  wife  has  gone  mad  in 
•onsequence.  and  killed  off  three  minor 
characters  who  weren't  accounted  for.  As 
you  say,  we  may  as  well  stop  ;  we  've  pro- 
vided a  splendid  story  for  a  modern  Christ- 
mas number.  Pass  the  poison  bottle  when 
you  've  taken  your  share.  And  don't  forget 
to  make  a  vague  remark  just  before  you 
die — readers  expect  it." 

HARRY  nodded,  and  having  consumed  a 
pint  of  pure  pnissic  acid,  handed  the  re- 
mainder to  JASPER,  who  quickly  swallowed 
the  rest. 

For  a  few  moments  there  was  silence. 
Then  HARRY  sat  up. 

"Why  didn't  he  boil  the  butter?"  he 
murmured. 

Then  there  was  a  dreary  silence. 


THE  DIFFERENCE. — The  Daily  News 
published  an  article,  which,  under  the  title 
of  "Rowing  and  Rowing  Men,"  reviewed 
;he  fourth  volume  of  the  Isthmian  Library, 
Dy  Messrs.  R.  C.  LEHMANN,  GUY  NICKALLS, 
ind  others,  under  the  able  editorship — or 
editorboat,  in  this  instance— of  Mr.  B. 
FLETCHER  ROBINSON.  There  is  a  Crum  of 
omfort  in  it  for  Etonians ;  and  E.  G. 
BLACKMOKE  interests  us  in  Australian 
eights.  But  the  title  of  the  book  is  mis- 
eading,  for  "  Rowing  and  Rowing  Men  " 
suggests  a  comparison  between  "  the  Row- 
ng  Men "  or  "  Rowdies  "  of  a  past  gene- 
•ation  and  the  temperate  and  quiet  Rowing 
Men,  i.e.,  oarsmen,  of  to-day. 


DECKMHKK  is,   1S97.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON  CHAIMY AIM. 


277 


MR.  JOHN  MOBLEY  ENTERS  THE  HOUSE 

AFTER  A  COURSE  OF  DEPORTMENT  AND  THE  CULTIVATION  OF  AN 
AFFABLE  MANNER. 

["  Gentlemi  n,  a  short  time  ago  a  friend  of  mine,  who  sits  on  our  Benches  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  complained  that  those  who,  like  myself,  have  the  de- 
lightful privilege  of  sitting  on  the  front  Bench,  'dwelt  lik«  stars  apart.' 
(Laughtfi:)  Ever  since  I  read  this  reproach  I  have  been  endeavouring  to 
cultivate  the  graces,  the  want  of  which  my  honourable  friend  complained — 
the  frrar  es  of  affubiliiy  and  accessibility,  which,  as  Nature  may  have  stinted  me, 
I  have  endeavoured  to  cultivate  up  to  what  I  may  almost  say  is  an  artificial 
point.  (Laughter.)"— From  Mr.  J.  Morlty'i  spttch  at  Srittol,  Dee.  9.] 


"  WANTED  1 " 

HAPPILY  it  is  true  that  the  good  men  do  lives  after  them. 
The  memory  of  Mr.  Punch's  friend,  and  the  friend  of  man, 
MONTAGUE  WILLIAMS,  is  kept  green  by  the  Blanket  and  Clothing 
Fund  he  established  whilst  he  presided  over  the  Worship  Street 
Police  Court.  This  is  designed  to  comfort  at  Christmas-time, 
with  clothing,  boots,  and  blankets,  poor  families  resident  in  the 
purlieus  of  the  Court.  Worship  Street  Police-Court  area  includes 
Bethnal  Green,  Shoreditch,  Spitalfields,  Hoxton,  part  of  Old 
Ford,  and  part  of  Whitechapel.  Which  is  u  perhaps  prolix,  cer- 
tainly conclusive,  way  of  saying  that  the  poorest  of  the  poor  of 


Ittllll J         V.UI1V.  I  l».^I    »  t|        "  ",7         «-  0«»,T    •«•  ft,       *•  •  I  1_  1 

London  shiver  in  its  shadow.  Last  Christmas,  through  the 
beneficent  agency  of  the  Fund,  five  hundred  families  received 
timely  help.  This  year,  Mr.  Punch's  circle  can  easily  go  five 
hundred  better.  Walk  up,  ladies  nnd  gentlemen,  walk  up  with 
your  ready-money,  delivered  to  the  Magistrates  at  Worship 
Street,  Mr.  HADEN  CORSER  and  Mr.  A.  R.  CLUER,  or,  with  gifts 
of  clothing,  to  the  Depot,  20,  Albion  Road,  Dalston,  addressed 
to  Mr.  JOHN  MASSBT,  missionary  at  the  Court. 

THE  HUNT  BALL.— "Ah,  yes,  I  know  him,"  observed  the  in- 
telligent foreigner ;  "  ze  great  national  game  of  feetballs,  which 
all  ze  Engleesh  ladies  play  on  ze  links." 

WANTED,  a  PROGRAMME.  Must  not  contain  more  than  150 
items,  of  which  not  more  than  ten  are  to  have  first  place.  ''  Non 
plus,  National  Liberal  Club. 


OL'R  BOOKING-OWL  !'.. 

THE  royal  game  of  golf,  says  my  Baroniteas,  has  *  fascination 
peculiarly  its  own,  but  according  to  Colonel  Bogey' t  Skrteh  Hook, 
>M>KK  i  LONGMANS,  ORHN  4  Co.),  "that  way  madness  lies." 
Certainly  the  pictures  are  somewhat  nightmareUh,  and  the 
accompanying  sundry  after-dinner  sayings  of  the  Colonel  are 
a  trifle  confoozling,  as  Captain  Croutrre,  "  which  it  was  his 
n. line,"  was  wont  to  observe. 

Just  Forty  H'inA-ji  (BLACKil  AND  SON),  by  HAMINII  HENDRY, 
daintily  illn-t rated  by  GERTRUDE  BRADLEY,  which  is  an  eye- 
opener  for  the  little  ones,  who  will  enjoy  the  amazing  adventures 
of  Dan,  iint  down  the  long  lane  that  has  so  many  turns  in 
dreamland. 

An  Alphabet,  by  WILLIAM  NICHOLSON,  published  by  WILLIAM 
HKINKMANN,  is  grimly  and  gruesomely  attractive.  It  should 
have  a  large  circulation  after  the  Christmas  festivities  are  over, 
when  the  doomed  ones  of  Dyspepsia  will  thoroughly  enjoy 
these  pictures. 

Mrs.  DB  LA  PABTTTRB'S  last  book,  Deborah  of  Tod'$  (SMITH, 
ELDER),  is  the  best  novel  my  Baronite  has  read  since  the  days 
began  to  shorten.  One  is  interested  from  the  first  by  desire  to 
see  how  one  of  the  most  audacious  plots  in  modern  fiction  can 
be  reasonably  worked  out.  There  is  nothing  new  in  contrasting 
the  simplicity  and  genuineness  of  rural  life  with  the  artificiality 
of  London  Society.  The  enterprise  is  carried  to  a  perilous 
point  when  we  have  a  septuagenarian  General,  K.C.B.,  a  member 
of  the  inner  circle  of  London  Society,  plopping  into  marriage 
with  a  girl  who  works  upon  her  own  farm,  talks  in  Devonshire 
dialect,  nas  been  little  to  school  and  never  outside  her  own  parish. 
That  she  should  not  only  acquit  herself  well  in  the  new  scenes 
to  which  her  marriage  introduces  her,  but  that,  by  reason  of  her 
nobility  of  character,  her  purity  of  soul,  her  sound  common  sense, 
she  should  dominate  the  circle  and  finally  marry  a  much-run-after 
Peer  of  the  realm,  form  a  group  of  propositions  that  seem  im- 
possible to  establish.  So  perfect  is  Mrs.  DB  LA  PASTURE'S  skill, 
no  infinite  her  resources,  that  all  these  things  seem  to  follow  as  a 
matter  of  course.  She  is  equally  at  home  with  humanity  in 
country  and  in  town.  Deborah  is  delightful,  whilst  the  less  un- 
common Society  people  with  whom  she  for  a  while  lives  are 
drawn  with  light,  firm,  unerring  touch.  We  seem  to  know  them 
all,  but  only  in  one  instance  does  Mrs.  DB  LA  PASTURE  obviously 
draw  from  life.  There  is  no  mistaking  the  trade-mark  of  the 
butterfly  about  Mr.  Cordla. 

Even  in  these  days  of  artistic  editions  de  Ivxe  it  is  rare  to  find 
such  prodigality  bestowed  on  a  reproduction  of  the  work  of  a 
black-and-white  artist  as  is  displayed  in  the  handsome  volume, 
printed  at  The  Whitefriars  Press  for  T.  FISHER  UNWIN  and 
BRADBURY,  AONBW,  *  Co.,  entitled,  The  Work  of  Charltt  Kerne, 
with  a  most  interesting  introduction  and  useful  running  com- 
mentary by  JOSEPH  PBNNELL.  The  volume  also  contains  a 
bibliography  of  the  books  KEENE  illustrated,  and  a  catalogue  of 
his  etchings.  Of  the  remarkable  examples  of  work  that  may  be 
generally  termed  "variations"  on  his  original  style,  there  are 
some  that,  without  the  signature,  might  have  .been  set  down  to 
GEORGE  D0  MAUTUEB  ;  and  there  are  others  that  would  puzzle 
any  expert  as  to  whose  artistic  handiwork  he  should,  off-hand, 
assign  it.  In  all  this  collection  there  is  one  that  stands  abso- 
lutely alone  ;  it  is  a  "  Wash  drawing  probably  made  for  the 
Illustrated  London  Newt."  "  It  is,"  says  Mr.  PBNNW.L,  "  very 
like  the  work  of  RAFKET  or  CHARLBT  "  ;  and,  we  may  add  diffi. 
dently  it  strongly  reminds  us  of  MBISSONIKR  and  of  GUSTAVB 
DORE.  But  while  it  "  reminds  "  us  of  these  srtists  in  their  treat- 
ment of  similar  subjects,  it  stands  entirely  apart,  not  onlv  from 
any  suggestion  of  imitation  of  any  other  artists  style  and 
me'thod,  but  also  from  all  other  specimen*  of  KBBNB  s  work  in 
this  collection.  As  Mr.  PENNELI.  here  notes,  "  Each  little  figure 
is  instinct  with  life,  movement,  and  character."  As  to  women,  it 
is  evident  that  KEENE  could  draw  a  pretty  and  a  handsome  face, 
also  an  elegant  form  ;  but  as  to  costume,  very  rarely  was  be  m 
touch  with  the  fashions  of  the  day.  He  oould  not  approach 
LEECH  in  depicting  a  "swell";  while,  on  the  other  hand,  h 
tradesmen,  writers,  clergy  of  the  old  school,  bis  labourers,  and 
ancient  village  gossips  male  and  female,  are  perfect  types.  In 
the  matter  of  "  legs  K  (see  p.  161),  his  study  of  "an  inebriate  "  is 
marvellous  ;  but  somehow  or  another  he  never  succeeded  in  giving 
us  Mr.  MILLIKBN'S  '"Airy."  It  was  CHARLES  KBBNE'S  '"Airy." 
In  his  pictures  the  landscapes  are  lovely.  But  in  the  company 
of  Mr.  PBNNELL,  with  the  majority  of  whoso  criticisms  we  agree, 
we  could  linger  for  hours  over  a  book  which,  it  is  a _  pleasure  to 
know,  will  soon  be  in  the  hands  of  all  sincere  admirers  of  this 
great  artist's  work.  THE  BARON  DE  B.-W. 

SEASONABLE  DISH  FOR  A  SPORTSMAN.— A  plate  o'  f on-tail  soup. 


278  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBER  18,  1897. 


THE    CONVERTED    SPORTSMAN. 

BBLOVED   GlMCRAOKS,    SHUN   THE  TlTRF.      TAKE  W^ 
AND    '  TURN   IT  UP '  !  " 

[See  Lord  ROSEBBKY'I  ipeeck  to  the  members  of  the  Gimcrack  Club,  Times,  December  8.] 


Rev.  Rosebery,  "  OH,  MY  DEARLY  BBLOVED  GIMCRAOKS,  SHUN  THE  TTTRF.    TAKE  WARNING  BY  MY  AWFUL  EXAMPLE, 

AND  '  TURN  IT  UP  ' ! " 


DKCEMBEK  18,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THE   LONDON    <  ]|.\ III \.\KI. 


279 


(itcicly  married).  "TilEKE's  MY  DAULIM;  I-LAYINU  THE 
GUITAR  ! " 


(Bui  H  vxLsn'l.     h  wtu  only  the  Garden  JiolUr  oner  the  yravtl .') 


DARBY  JONES  "  OVER  THE  STICKS." 

Br  "  sticks " — which  sounds  like  Jupi- 
ter's oath,  but  isn't  anything  of  the 
sort — I  mean  the  made-up  hedges  and 
hurdles  of  the  Winter  Racecourses.  1 
would  first  of  all,  right-revered  Patron  oi 
Sport,  enquire  why  this  particular  pastime 
should  be  dubbed  the  "  Illegitimate  Game  " 
by  many  of  those  Brilliant  Writers  of 
Prose,  who  frequently  burst  forth  into 
Blank  Verse,  when  describing  one  of  those 
memorable  meetings  associated  with  the 
Unbarsinistered  Flat  ?  I  confess,  Sir,  that 
on  very  many  occasions  the  way  of  Pro- 

S-ession  at  meetings  held  under  National 
unt  Rules  differs  but  little  from  those 
governed  by  the  sway  of  the  Jockey  Club. 
Throw  in  a  flat  race  and  three  or  four 
easily-negotiated  hurdle-matches,  and  there 
isn't  much  difference,  after  all !  Oh  I  those 
hurdles,  which  my  friends  the  B.  W.'s  per- 
sist in  calling  "  obstacles  "  I  Why,  time 
after  time  I  Ve  seen  a  flat-racing  horse  ru/n 
through  them,  and  disdain  to  lift  himself, 
when  he  encountered  the  supposed  check 
to  his  progress.  The  only  time  that  I  ever 
remember  a  hurdle  being  a  hindrance  to 
any  competitor,  was  once  at  Sandown, 
when  an  animal,  having  "rushed"  the 
barrier,  caught  it  with  his  heels  and  landed 
it  on  the  head  of  the  jockey  of  a  near 
opponent.  Believe  me,  that  in  Practice,  if 
not  in  Theory,  there  is  but  little  to  choose 
between  Flat-racing  and  Hurdle-hopping, 
and  the  fact  that  Newmarket  has  taken 
up  the  game  is  a  very  solid  proof  of  my 
assertion. 

You  will  observe  that  I  have  not  included 
Steeplechasing.  But  there  are  Steeple- 


chases and  Steeplechases,  just  as  there  are 
Jysters  and  Oysters.  One  of  the  latter, 
with  a  Noah's  Ark  habitation,  and  a  beard 
.vorthy  of  advertising  a  Petroleum  Hair 
Restorer,  is  no  more  to  be  compared 
,vith  a  beauteous  Whitstable  or  Colchester 
Native  than  is  a  supposed  Steeplechase 
Course,  with  finnikin  fences  and  a  duck- 
puddle  water-jump,  to  the  magnificent 
•ountry  over  which  the  Grand  National  is 
determined.  The  way  in  which  some  of 
-hese  steeple-tracks  are  made  without 
steeples  is  occasionally  delightful.  Not 
very  many  years  since,  I  was  going  over  a 
jourse  before  a  meeting,  when  the  Great 
Mogul  of  the  gathering  observed  with 
infinite  satisfaction  to  his  little  court  of 
followers.  "You  will  observe,  gentlemen, 
that  we  have  strictly  avoided  using  barbed 
urire ! "  And  I  give  you  my  word  that  not 
one  of  the  Pomponius  Egoes  of  the  party 
detected  the  exceedingly  enjoyable  jape. 

And  again,  every  farmer  with  a  few 
acres  of  unprofitable  land  thinks  that  it 
would  make  a  fine  terrain  for  "  lepping." 
I  knew  a  Gentle  Agriculturist  with  three 
quarters  of  a  mile  of  bog  at  his  disposal, 
who  invited  a  Well-known  Sportsman  to 


same,  paying  all  his 
i.     "  Well,"  cried  th< 


expenses 
the  Bucolic 


inspect  the 

from  London.  T?OU,  «i»rvi  im-  i»m  ..m  , 
after  their  tramp.  "  what  do  you  think  of 
itP"  "I  think/'  replied  the  Scientist, 
without  the  slightest  smile,  "that  you 
must  have  been  thinking  of  a  regatta,  not 
a  Steeplechase  meeting."  They  never 
spoke  again. 

I  may  not  expatiate  on  all  these  matters 
to-day,  but,  as  the  Bard  says,  "  There  is  a 
to-morrow."  He  might  also  have  added, 
"  and  a  settling-day,"  for  I  candidly  confess 


that  an  indifferent  time  at  the  fair  town 
of  Leicester  (where  factory  girls  and  Stil- 
ton cheeses  appear  to  vie  with  one  another 
in  multitude)  has  placed  me  in  the  unenvi- 
able position  of  drawing  a  small  Note  of 
Hand  on  your  esteemed  self,  but  you,  as  of 
old,  know  well,  Beneficent  Patron,  that 
Current  Coin  is  not  more  readilv  acknow- 
ledged, or  the  signature  of  Mr.  H.  Q. 
BOWEN,  than  L»  the  handwriting  of 

Your  ever  faithful  fiduciary, 

DARBY  JONM. 

P.S. — The  N.  of  H.  will  probably  arrive 
before  this  despatch.  Therewith  append  a 
short  metrical  vision  into  future  events  at 
Nottingham.  "Touf'avov*.  Comprenezt 
The  Storm  Light  of  Summtr  it  lure  to  do  well 

At  the  town  of  the  lamb*  and  the  lace, 
And  Lottu  tin  Charming  may  error*  diipel 

If  she  pulli  off  the  big  iteeplechaae. 
But  1  deem  that  the  firit  by  the  winninf-jxxt  iward 
U  the  Cat  who  it  tricky,  but  earrin  a  Ward. 

[The  N.  of  H.  A<u  arrived  before  D.  J.'t  dis- 
jointed letter.  We  have  referred  the  unfortunate 
bolder  of  the  bill— apparently  a  worthy  citixen  of 
Leicester— to  DAKBT  JOHM  himi-lf,  but  the  lat- 
ter'i  addre*a  we  were  unable  to  furnuh. — ED.] 

Must  draw  the   lane  somewhere. 

Excited  Backer  (at  crou-country  mtrting, 
to  Wett-known  ''Bookie").  Look  here, 
what  '11  you  lay  me  Oyster-shell  t 

W.B.  (with  dignity).  You  "II  excuse  me, 
Sir,  but  I  'm  looking  on  to-day  as  a  gentle- 
man! [E.  B.  collapttt. 

A  V«RT  POPULAR  IKTBRSATIONAL  DISH. 
— Green  Peace  Soup  with  well-meant 
flavouring. 


280 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  18,   1897. 


RESEARCHES    IN    ANCIENT    SPORTS. 

A  LITTLE  GAME  IN  POMPILIUS'S  BILLIARD  BOOM. 


LETTERS  TO  THE  CELEBRATED. 

No.  VI. — To  MR.  ANDREW  LANG. 

MY  DEAR  SIK, — To  the  foot  of  the  heights  whence  you  dis- 
tribute the  wreaths  of  praise  and  the  bolts  of  blame  I  venture 
to  bring  this  humble  letter.  I  beg  you  will  not  thunder  upon 
me  if  I  rouse  you  for  a  moment  from  some  dream  of  airy  ghosts 
to  be  embodied  in  yet  another  volume  that  shall  grapple  with 
the  elusive  manifestations  of  the  world  beyond  our  vision.  What 
gadfly  has  stung  you  that  you  should  thus  devote  your  pleasant 
learning  to  the  pursuit  of  these  silly  stories,  these  second-sight 
absurdities  retailed  at  third  hand,  these  vaporous  shapes  that 
speak  of  fate  and  death  to  minds  overwrought  by  a  morbid 
brooding,  that  point  to  the  accomplished  inevitable,  nor  hint 
(how  should  they  ?)  in  what  fashion  it  may  be  undone  or  avoided  ? 
You,  Sir,  whose  literary  style  has  so  greatly  captured  our  ad- 
miration as  to  have  extorted  the  award  of  a  first  prize  amongst 
moderns  from  that  not  too  placable  censor,  Mr.  QUILLBK  COUCH, 
are  fitted  to  hunt  for  a  nobler  quarry.  Leave  Julia  and  her 
brood  (the  word  requires  a  phantasmal  apology,  since  Julia  was 
in  life  a  spinster  lady  and  addicted  to  journalism),  leave  her,  I 
say,  to  her  creator  and  protege,  Mr.  W.  T.  STEAD.  If  she  falls, 
souse,  into  your  ink-pot,  or  sprawls  and  scrawls  across  your 
writing-paper,  how  shall  she  hold  the  pen  of  STEAD  or  indite 
unctuous  blessings  to  mankind  when  Borderland  shall  once  more 
have  lapsed  from  a  happy  suspense  into  wpful  publication  ?  No, 
let  her  still  be  STEAD'S  own.  For  you,  if  you  will,  there  are 
other  pursuits.  If  you  will,  I  say.  But  will  you  ?  Of  what 
avail  is  it  to  cry  to  you,  define  pervicax,  if,  with  your  eyes 
open,  you  still  persist  in  straying  amongst  these  tangled  weeds  ? 
If  I  should  tell  you  (far  from  me  be  the  presumption)  that  you 
not  only  fool  away  your  time,  but  that  you  incur  the 
censure  pronounced  by  the  French  king  on  those  who  fooled 
without  making  him  laugh — the  quotation  is,  no  doubt,  familiar 
to  you  in  the  original — you  might  justly  answer  that  a  man's 


time  is  his  own  to  fool  away  if  he  likes,  and  that,  as  at  present 
advised,  you  prefer  psychic  research  to  poetry  and  even  to 
criticism  or  leading  articles  on  American  writers  in  the  columns 
of  the  Daily  News.  Well,  every  man  to  his  taste,  say  I.  And 
I  must  admit  that  your  taste  has  been  catholic.  You  have 
rhymed  most  musically.  Though  the  sum  of  your  verse  is. small, 
there  is  in  it  a  perfect  little  note  of  true  poetic  feeling  never 
forced  beyond  the  bounds  that  style  and  an  academic  culture 
point  out.  Others,  greatly  daring,  may  venture  on  a  wild  wrong 
word,  and  find  that  is  absolutely  right  and  tamed  to  the  measure 
of  poetry.  You  have  picked  and  chosen  with  a  precise  care,  and 
your  lines  sometimes  lose  in  strength  as  much  as  they  gain  in 
polish.  But  they  have  a  haunting  and  delightful  melody,  and 
often  speak  straight  to  the  heart.  And  how  versatile  you  have 
been.  Essay,  criticism,  short  story,  leading  article,  folk-lore,  lite- 
rary gossip,  verse — in  ail  these  you  have  shone  and  still  shine .  You 
have  paddled  along  the  little  rivers  that  flow  into  the  great  stream 
of  history,  have  lingered  with  Pretenders,  false  and  true,  and  have 
exhibited  to  posterity  the  hateful  faces  of  forgotten  spies.  Nor 
must  it  be  forgotten  that  you  have  written  a  long  poem — it  fills 
a  whole  volume — on  Helen  of  Troy,  and  have  wrought  the  same 
lady  into  a  novel,  written  in  collaboration  with  Mr.  RIDBB 
HAGGARD.  You,  at  least,  as  you  review  your  career  and  your 
work  have  no  reason  to  despond.  It  is  not  for  you  to  pose  as 
the  homme  incompris  of  your  generation1.  You  have,  I  suppose, 
done  what  you  wanted,  and  have  done  it  as  you  wished  to  do  it. 
What  more  can  a  man  require  of  his  life  ?  If  you  have  not 
gained  the  brightest  chaplets,  the  reason  is  that  you  have  not 
striven  for  them,  and  have  not  cared  to  strive.  But,  if  the 
humour  should  take  you,  there  is  yet  time  for  immortality, 
provided  you  can  brinig  yourself  to  abandon  for  a  space  your 
curious  prying  into  the  speech  and  manners  of  deceased  per- 
sons. With  your  dispute  against  Professor  MAX  MULLER,  I 
need  not  concern  myself.  These  matters  are  too  steep  for  the 
average  man  who  refuses  to  puzzle  his  head  with  the  why  and 


DECEMBER  18,  1897.]  PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI. 


281 


the  wherefore  of  his  language,  his  manners  and  his  religion,  being 
content  on  the  whole  to  accept  the  fact  of  their  existence  a» 
being  amply  sufficient  for  ordinary  purposes. 

Your  position,  then,  i.s  an  enviable  one,  and  you  occupy  n 
bwMlM  you  have  fairly  earned  it.  \\itliout  being  "bland, 
passionate,  and  deeply  religious,"  you  are  cultivated,  acadeinn  , 
and  sarcastic.  Generally,  too,  you  are  urbane,  humorous,  anil 
rim  genial.  Now  and  then,  it  in  true,  a  gust  of  perverse  temper 
.shakes  you,  you  drop  the  rapier,  and,  lo,  some  unfortunate  head 
cracks  to  the  blow  of  your  bludgeon.  1  must  add,  too,  that 
you  have  your  fair  share  of  that  very  human  failing,  resent- 
ment, and  those  who  can  recognise  your  style  are  sometimes 
amused  when  here  and  there  the  spretce  mjuriu  furnue  crops  up 
in  your  writings.  But  Ui  there  one  of  us  so  virtuous  and  forgiving 
as  not  to  indulge  at  times  in  a  sly  thrust  at  those  who  hare  done 
him  wrong  ?  These  are  trifles  thin  as  air.  And  take  you  for  all 
in  all  we  shall  not  soon  look  upon  your  like  again.  You  are  a 
literary  man,  and  you  take  pride  in  your  calling.  You  have 
added  greatly  by  your  writings  to  the  sum  of  our  pleasure  ; 
you  maintain  the  dignity  of  journalism  no  less  than  the  honour 
of  literature.  Yet  you  are  not  of  those  who  call  out  for  titles  or 
swagger  ostentatiously  because  .Heaven  and  your  inclination 
made  you  a  writing  man.  1  am,  Sir,  Your  faithful  servant, 
TH«  VACUUM. 

A  LITERACY  NIGUTMAKE. 

["  The  heroine  a  steadily  departing  from  Eugli»h  tictun." — Mr.  If.  L.AltUn, 
in  "  ftarton't  Magannt "  for  JJectiiibei  .\ 

MY  study-door  was  flung  open,  and,  to  my  astonishment,  a 
crowd  of  ladies  entered.  All  of  them  were  fairly  young,  though 
they  were  dressed  in  every  possible  variety  of  costume,  and  all 
of  them  seemed  to  be  in  a  state  of  considerable  excitement. 

"  May  I  ask."  I  inquired,  timidly,  "to  what  1  owe  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  you  here  ?  " 

"Certainly  you  may,"  replied  one  of  them,  brandishing  a 
magazine  as  she  spoke.  "  \Ve  have  called  in  consequence  of  a 
disgraceful  statement  published  in  this  journal.  \\e  are  all 
popular  heroines,  who  up  to  the  present  have  found  constant 
employment  in  English  notion.  But  now  it  appears  that  there 
is  a  conspiracy  afoot  to  get  rid  of  us,  and  in  consequence,  we  are 
calling  upon  various  novelists  to  ascertain  their  intentions  to- 
wards us.  Do  you  propose  to  exclude  us  from  your  novels  in 
future  t " 

Before  I  could  reply,  a  beautiful  girl  in  a  white  ball-dress 
pushed  her  way  to  tne  front,  and  addressed  me  in  tearful 
accents :  — 

"  It  is  too  bad  I "  she  sobbed.  "  I  am  the  most  popular 
heroine  of  all,  and  have  delighted  countless  readers.  I  am  just 
nineteen,  you  know,  and  the  most  charming  girl  in  the  whole 
world — the  hero  always  tells  me  so.  We  sit  out  several  dances 
together  in  the  conservatory,  and  while  he  explains  how  he  has 
adored  me  through  a  couple  of  hundred  pages.  I  turn  away 
nervously  and  pull  a  rose  to  pieces.  I  must  have  destroyed 
thousands  of  roses  in  my  time.  Then,  when  he  misinterprets  my 
silence  and  says,  in  a  voice  trembling  with  emotion,  that  he 
knows  he  doesn't  deserve  my  love,  I  gasp  out  his  Christian  name, 
and  he  folds  me  in  his  manly  arms.  And  then  we  get  married 
in  the  last  chapter  and  live  happily  ever  after.  Readers  never 
get  tired  of  me,  and  yet  I  'in  to  be  turned  out  with  no  work 
to  do!" 

She  seized  a  rose  from  her  dress  and  began  to  pull  it  to  pieces 
as  she  spoke.  A  tall,  dark  girl  took  her  place. 

"  And  how  about  me  P  "  she  demanded.  "  Aren't  you  going 
to  use  me  any  more  P  I  am  the  mysterious,  passionate  heroine 
who  always  fascinates  the  best  kind  of  hero.  I  urn  all  soul. 
After  dinner  I  sing  weird  songs  in.  a  way  that  astonishes  every 
one,  and  then  the  hero  and  I  walk  out  into  the  moonlight  and 
listen  to  the  nightingale  together.  Frequently  I  talk  about  the 
problems  of  existence,  and  the  weary  irony  of  life.  I  can  fill  a 
dozen  pages  at  a  time  in  that  way.  But  beneath  my  languid 
indolence  there  lurks  a  passion  that  is  simply  volcanic.  When 
the  villain  insults  me,  I  wither  him  in  one  vitriolic  sentence. 
Sometimes  I  marry  the  hero,  but  more  often  I  die  ;  my  death- 
scene  is  simply  concentrated  essence  of  the  very  best  pathos. 
And  even  if  I  ain  a  little  bit  old-fashioned,  readers  like  me  as 
much  as  ever.  You  had  better  remember  my  volcanic  passion 
if  you  propose  to  cashier  me,  you  miserable  scribbler!" 

"Qadzopks!"  cried  a  third  lady,  in  mediroval  costume,  "an  it 
were  possible  to  put  forth  those  jades,  it  were  none  so  easy, 
murk  you,  to  get  rid  of  me.  I  am  the  heroine  of  the  historical 
romance.  A  pure,  sweet  country  lass,  'i  faith,  who  charms  the 
heart  of  that  courtly  gallant,  the  hero.  None  can  say  'gram- 
mercy'  with  a  grace  more  rare,  and  ofttimes  my  speech  hath  a 


THE    HOPE    THAT    FAILED. 

Sir  Percy  Qoldman,  11.  P.  (affably  tttking  subject*  of  cmvenation  vritk 
hit  Cmutitomii).  "I  THINK  MY  WIFE  MENTIONED  THAT  YOU  ARI  A 
GREAT  COLLECTOR,  MR.  BAKEK  ;  1  IH>  A  LITTLE  IN  THAT  WAY 
MYSELF— IS  IT  OOINS  I  " 

Mr.  Baker.  "I  PREFER  IT  IN  THAT  FORM,  SIR  PERCY,  THOUGH  1 
TAKE  CHEQUES  IN  SOME  CASED — I  COLLECT  FOR  SMALL,  PROFEIT,  It 
Co.,  'Ion  STREET." 


smack  of  four  centuries  on  a  single  page.  Beshrew  me  if  the 
reader  heedeth  that !  Dost  think,  rarlet.  that  I  am  to  be  driven 
forth  from  the  pages  of  popular  fiction?  By  my  halidom — and 
little  wot.  I  what  that  may  be — thou  wilt  attempt  to  banish  me 
at  thy  peril ! " 

"  The  fact  of  the  matter  is,"  cried  knottier  lady,  who  wore  a 
hard  felt  hat,  a  bicycling  skirt  and  gaiters,  and  who  had  helped 
herself  unasked  to  one  of  my  cigarettes,  "  that  we  aren't  so  toft 
as  you  fancy — not  by  a  long  chalk.  I  am  a  fashionable  sportin' 
heroine,  and  if  you  fancy  that  you  can  write  your  gtorie*  on  your 
own,  without  my  help,  you  'II  get  jolly  well  left,  old  cock  ;  you 
may  put  your  bottom  dollar  on  that.  Why,  what  '•  to  become 
of  your  huntin'  and  racin"  yarns  if  yon  leave  me  out  t  " 

At  last  there  was  a  moment's  paute,  and,  having  barricaded 
myself  behind  the  sofa,  T  attempted  to  speak. 

"  Ladies !  "  I  exclaimed,  "  I  respect  yon  sincerely — I  do,  indeed. 
All  of  you  are  old  friends  of  mine,  and  I  've  found  posts  for  most 
of  you  in  one  or  other  of  my  novels.  But  what  is  a  poor  writer 
to  doP  The  novel  with  a  heroine  is  becoming  unfashionable, 
'the  heroine  is  steadily  departing  from  English  fiction,'  a*  Mr. 
ALDES  says,  and — in  point  of  fact,  I  can't  offer  you  any  employ- 
ment in  future." 

"What  ?"  they  shrieked  in  chorus.  "You  refuse?  You  will 
turn  us  awfy_froi!n— 

"  Hush,"  fried  an  authoritative  voice  from  the  background, 
"toe  mart*"  with  inc.  I,  Sir,  »m  a  heroine  in  the 

employ  'if  v  HI-RSKTT — I  am,  in  fact,  a  Lady  of 

Quality.  l'.-r!  u ••.  yon  will  remember  that  when  a  man  annoys 
me,  I  murder  Him  ami  hide  his  corpse  under  the  sofa.  Ymi 
have  a  sofa,  I  think?  " 

At  these  terrible  wor<l<  1  gave  one  despairing  yell— and  awoke. 


282 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  18,  1897. 


"OH,  PLEASE,  'M,  TH'  NOO  PAARSON '»  OAXLED  TO  SEK  YOU." 

"\'EKY  WELL,  MART.     I  HOPE  YOU'VE  SHOWN  HIM  IN,  AND  ASKED  HIM  TO  SIT  DOWN?" 

"On,  YES,  'M,  AH'VE  LOOSED  'm  IKTO  THS  DRAWIHH-ROOM!" 


STILL  ABROAD. 

Vienna. — Arrive  about  eight.  After  supper  at  the  hotel,  what 
is  to  be  done  ?  Too  late  for  any  theatre.  Just  take  a  stroll  in 
the  streets.  In  the  Ring-Strasse,  of  course,  here  at  the  very 
door.  On  such  a  fine  evening  the  Paris  Boulevards  would  be 
crowded.  Even  Piccadilly,  or  Princes  Street,  Edinburgh;  would 
not  be  deserted.  Have  always  understood  that  Vienna  is  quite 
unlike  London  or  Edinburgh ;  that  it  is  as  gay  as  Paris.  How 
pleasant  1  I  will  walk  out  and  see  all  the  fun,  here  in  this  part 
of  the  Ring-Strasse,  the  part  nearest  to  the  Opera,  the  Boulevard 
des  Capucmes  of  Vienna.  Should  perhaps  assume  a  jaunty  air, 
suited  to  the  place.  Must  not  look  like  a  weary  American,  or 
a  bored  English  tourist.  Might  put  my  hat  a  little  on  one  side, 
if  I  were  sure  that  that  would  be  correct  in  Vienna.  Can 
arrange  this  when  I  see  how  the  other  men  in  the  crowd  wear 
their  hats.  So,  merely  lighting  a  cigarette,  and  giving  an  extra 
twist  to  my  moustache,  I  stroll  into  the  street. 

I  am  absolutely  alone  I  From  end  to  end  there  isn't  a  soul 
besides  me !  Come  to  that,  I  don't  know  which  is  the  end,  for 
the  street  is  so  monstrously  wide  that  the  width  and  the  length, 
in  this  segment  of  the  circle,  are  about  the  same.  But  neither 
across,  nor  along  the  street  can  I  see  any  one.  The  Boulevard 
des  Capucines  of  Vienna,  at  half-past  nine  on  a  fine  October 
evening,  is  quieter  than  Portland  Place  at  midnight  on  Sunday. 
My  moustache  untwists  itself,  and  my  hat  slips  towards  the 
back  of  my  head.  Could  walk  here  in  flannels  without  being 
noticed.  Keep  along  by  the  houses,  and  reach  the  immense  space 
by  the  Opera.  It  is  as  deserted  as  Salisbury  Plain.  Only 
Salisbury  Plain  is  not  covered  with  huge  cobble-stones,  and  pools 
of  water  between  them.  Shall  not  attempt  to  cross.  Smoke  a 
cigarette  at  the  corner  Remember  a  tranquil,  moonlit  scene, 
something  like  this,  at  Bologna.  Also  at  Venice,  only  there  the 


moon  shone   on   water  alone,   without   cobble-stones.     Bologna, 
Venice.  Vienna ;  nice  quiet  places  for  nervous  invalid. 

Suddenly,  terrific  noise,  clatter  of  hoofs  and  wheels.  As  yet 
I  see  nothing.  Must  be  fire-engine.  Suddenly,  round  a  corner, 
at  a  fearful  pace,  comes  two-horse  cab.  It  rattles  over  these 
cobble-stones,  and  stops  at  Opera  House.  Others  come,  with 
equal  noise,  and  I  see  dark  figures  slip  out  from  the  great  build- 
ing, some  of  them  riding  away  in  the  clattering  cabs,  most  of 
them  jumping  over  the  pools  of  water  and  vanishing  in  side 
streets.  Then  I  understand  that  the  Opera  is  over,  and  that 
even  the  belated  patrons  of  the  drama  have  gone  home  to  bed. 
Ten.  I  must  do  the  same.  ROBINSON  THE  ROVEB. 

"  jEQUAM   MEMENTO   REBUS   IN   ARDUIS 
SERVARE  MENTEM." 
MT  HORACE,  most  excellent  fellow, 

No  doubt  it  was  easy  for  you, 
With  your  farm  and  Falernian  mellow, 

To  preach  a  philosophy  true. 
But  to  others,  whose  ancestors  often 

Have  left  but  a  name  to  uphold, 
The  practice  lacks  something  to  soften 

A  theory  so  manfully  bold. 
At  Eton,  long  since,  and  most  dearly, 

I  've  paid  for  your  verses,  as  such. 
Mens  aqua  in  arduis! — clearly 

It 's  asking  a  little  too  much. 

SOMETHING  WORTH  KNOWING.— In  case  of  serious  fires  in  Lon- 
don, it  appears  from  the  recent  inquiry,  the  water  supply  will 
always  be  sufficient  as  long  as  the  Fire  Brigade  has  Command  o 
Wells. 


td 

! 


H 

o 

ED 

E 


g 

c 


P 
o 

H 
H 

K 


o 

B 


to 


g 


CO 

w 

cl 
tz! 


o     .— 


o 

to 


DECEMBER  18,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  THK    LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


289 


FEMININE    AMENITIES. 

Mrs.  Ayleslnury.  "Do  TELL  MB  WHAT  BIT  YOU  OS»D  TO  use, — AS  1  OAK'T  BOLD  THIS  HORSE  I  BOUGHT  AT  YOUR  SALE?  ' 
Mrs.  Quarn.  "  I  RKALLT  DON'T  REMEMBER, — AS,  WHIN  /  USED  TO   RIDE   IT,  IT  WA»  BUCH  A  SLUG,  I  WAS  COMPELLED  TO  USE  A 
CUTTING  WHIP  TO  MAKE  IT  GO." 


THE  IDEAL  HUSBAND. 

MY  DEAR  ETHEL, —  You  ask  me  what 
"sort  of  a  husband"  I  recommend.  My 
dear,  ask  me  the  name  of  a  dressmaker, 
of  a  doctor,  or  of  a  (ugh  I)  dentist,  and  I 
can  tell  you  precisely.  I  can  name  the 
man.  But  what  sort  of  a  husband  1 1  Well, 
after  sifting  the  matter  carefully,  and  after 
looking  before  you,  leap,  and  after  an  ex- 
perience of  some  few  year*  of  married  life, 
I  say,  decidedly,  choose  a  man 


You  will  find  him  very  useful  if  managed 
judiciously ;  he  will  prove  an  immense 
saving  to  you,  as  if  you  went  alone  you 
would  have  to  tip  porters,  and  squabble 
with  cabmen.  Then  from  a  certain  point 
of  view  I  should  advise  some  of  those 
•'  about  to  marry  "  to  select  a  man 


Who  like*  to  go  Shopping. 


Who  hu  no  Club. 

But  this  is  an  exceptional  case.  Finally,  if 
vou  wish  to  be  strictly  economical,  and  to 
live  in  the  suburbs,  or  in  the  country,  and 
if  your  husband  has  no  occupation  or  pro- 
i  fession,  then  I  should  say,  in  order  that 


you  may  attend  assiduously  to  your  do- 
mestic duties,  which  include  visiting,  fire 
o'clock  teas,  and  so  forth,  then  ascertain 
that  your  husband  is  of  a  maternal  dispo- 
sition, and  one 


If  I  think  of  anything  else  I  will  let  yon 
know.  But,  above  all,  please  yourself,  and 
by  10  doing  you  will  delight 

Yours  affectionately,          DURA. 

Jr«T    THE  JlWBL  FOR   AN   AuTO-MOBILIiT. 

— A  motor-car-buncle. 


286 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  18,  1897. 


"FANNY 

LEARNED   LADY  " 
DUBLIN!! 


:'GEORGE  NATHANIEU. 

THE"MOST SUPERIOR  PURZON" EARTH!! 

DECENTLY  VISIT[D™REGIONS«™  PREMIR  PLATIAU 


TWO  MORE  "SIDE  SHOWS"  THAT  SIMPLY  MUST  NOT  BE  OMITTED 

AT  OLYMPIA. 

Bint  to   Visitors. — A    DEEP   OBEISANCE   SHOULD    BE    MADE    ON    APPROACHING  ~  GEORGK 
NATHANIEL   BY  ALL   VISITORS   BELOW  THE   RANK   or   EMPEROR,   OTHERWISE   HE   RETIRE.S 

HURT,  THREATENING  GENERAL  CHAOS  IN  EUROPE. 


THE  RECRUIT'S  VADE  MECUM. 

Question.  You  have  joined  the  army  with 
a  view  to  distinguishing  yourself  in  the 
annals  of  your  country  ? 

Answer.  Not  exactly  ;  although  no  doubt 
I  liked  the  idea  of  wearing  a  red  coat,  and 
belonging  to  a  service  once  commanded  by 
MARLBOROUGH  and  WELLINGTON. 

Q.  I  see  by  your  reply  that  you  have 
some  education  ? 

A.  Yes,  thanks  to  the  School  Board. 

Q.  Then  could  you  not  employ  your  time 
to  better  purpose  than  drill  in  the  barrack 
square  and  beer  in  the  canteen  ? 

A.  Possibly ;  although  nowadays  learn- 
ing is  rather  a  drug  in  the  market.  So  I 
joined,  for,  at  the  moment,  I  had  nothing 
better  to  do. 

Q.  And  I  suppose  that  your  comrades 
were  rolling  stones  like  yourself? 

A.  You  may  take  it  that  most  of  us 
belonged  to  the  ne'er-do-well  class. 

Q.  And  what  do  you  expect  from  your 
connection  with  the  army  ? 

A.  A  few  years  of  comparative  comfort, 
and  then  compulsory  retirement. 

Q.  But  will  not  your  service  with  the 
colours  assist  to  get  civil  employment  on 
your  retirement? 

A.  No  ;  because,  during  my  stay  in  the 
army,  I  shall  lose  the  chance  of  acquiring 


technical  knowledge  of  the  craft  I  might 
like  to  adopt. 

Q.  You  mean  that  non-army  men  would 
have  an  advantage  over  you  in  this 
respect  ? 

A.  Certainly ;  and  this  would  also  be 
true  anent  the  obligation  of  the  reservist. 

Q.  What  is  that  obligation  ? 

A.  At  a  call  from  headquarters  to  desert 
all  civil  employment  to  join  his  old  regi- 
ment. 

Q.  Does  this  interfere  with  the  obtain- 
ment  of  civil  employment  ? 

A.  Undoubtedly ;  and  consequently  ser- 
vice in  the  army  is  a  doubtful  blessing. 

Q.  Why  is  it  a  doubtful  blessing  P 

A.  Because  a  youngster  is  taken  for  a 
few  years  into  a  service  that  can  only  teach 
him  the  discipline  of  endurance,  and  then 
sent  adrift  to  compete  with  men  who  have 
been  learning  their  trades  from  their  child- 
hood. 

Q.  Then  why  do  you  enlist  ? 

A.  Because  there  is  nothing  better  to 
do  in  the  present,  and  as  for  the  future,  it 
must  look  after  itself. 


BARBAROUS. — The  barbed  wire  fences  in 
a  hunting  country. 

A  LORDLY  ECCLESIASTIC. — Bishop  EARLE. 


A  PREVIOUS  QUESTION. 

[".We  are  sorry  to  see  that  something  like  a  con- 
tention is  arising  as  to  what  shall  be  the  '  foremost 
and  immediate  object '  of  the  Liberal  Party.  .  .  . 
Whether  the  Lords  can  be  attacked  with  any  pro- 
spect of  success  out  of  the  ewigkeit,  so  to  speak,  is  a 
very  serious  question.  .  .  .  The  first  business,  how- 
ever, if  we  may  venture  to  remind  the  party  of  so 
very  practical  a  consideration,  is  to  obtain  a 
majority.''' —  Westminster  Oaiette.] 

THE  Liberal  hens  sat  on  their  eggs, 

It  was  a  solemn  sight ; 
Their  brows  were  knit,  their  eyes  were  lit 

With  a  strange  prophetic  light ; 
Their  beaks  came  out  beyond  the  bar* 

Sniffing  the  ewgkeit. 

Some  of  them  sat  so  deep  in  thought 

They  never  said  a  word  ; 
The  Monmouth  brand  on  the  other  hand 

Occasionally  purred ; 
And  a  pleasant  flow  of  badinage 

Fell  from  the  Birrell-bird. 

The  Durdans  fowl  was  well  aware 
She  was  warming  lumps  of  stone  ; 

And  the  Montrose  Pet  had  got  a  set 
Of  Gaelic  ducks  on  loan  ; 

But  the  Bantam-hen  from  Battersea 
Sat  hard  upon  her  own. 

To  wile  away  their  leisure  time, 

And  it  went  exceeding  slow, 
Their  fancies  ran  on  a  likely  plan 

For  making  chickens  grow  ; 
On  a  programme  pointing  out  the  way 

That  a  chicken  ought  to  go. 

'Home   Rule,"  said   one,  "is  what  they 
want, 

As  I  observed  before." 
By  this  she  stuck  with  a  steady  cluck, 

And  even  slightly  swore  ; 
But  the  others  lifted  up  their  bills 

And  called  the  bird  a  bore. 

Another  said  :  "  At  certain  sins 

No  parent  ought  to  blink  : 
Let  us  not  pause  in  passing  laws 

To  localise  the  Drink." 
But  the  others  looked  a  little  shy, 

And  one  was  seen  to  wink. 

Vt  this  the  Bantam  opened  out 

With  a  proletariat  snort : 
'  I  'd  train  'em  to  bust  the  upper-crust, 

The  bloated  birds  of  sport !  " 
But     the     more     respectable     muttered 
"  Pooh ! " 

Which  cut  the  Bantam  short. 

Then  one  in  Henhood's  name  produced 

A  notion  to  serve  their  need ; 
The  same   would  enhance   their  chickens' 
chance 

And  check  their  neighbours'  greed  :  — 
'  One  bird,  one  crop  :  one  crop,  one  grain !  " 

And  they  all  said :  "  Good,  indeed  I  " 

Out  spoke  at  length  a  thoughtful  fowl 
That  knew  the  ropes  and  rings  : 

''  Before  we  teach  our  chickens  to  screech 
Or  forage  or  wag  their  wings, 

By  way  or  preface  a  useful  move 
Would  be  to  hatch  the  things." 


ANSWERS  TO  CORRESPONDENTS. — PUZZLED. 
— The  symptoms  you  describe  are  not  un- 
usual— we  often  suffer  that  way  ourselves. 
A  disinclination  for  any  kind  of  work,  a 
feeling  that  we  must  dine  royally  some- 
where, go  to  the  theatre  afterwards,  and 
wind  up  at  a  supper-club,  are  quite  normal 
conditions  with  us.  We  do  not  view  them 
with  any  alarm. 


DECEMBER  18,  1897.] 


PUNCH,   OR  TIIK   LONDON   rHAIMVAIM. 


2*7 


• 


•    t  I '  '<•  It,  '""^(3^  ....   I*    -       .      i     , 

sU   "  •'•  '"•  >»*jf  ZT''' 

*""•*-•  "  '  '  •''  *"  •*^™«— /<•»*,    _     _  (.|_it ,,  V4  \itvT.' 


••^     « 

HORRIBLE    PREDICAMENT. 

ftent  (on  mettlesome  ffireling').  '"Etp  !    'ELP  !    SOMEBODY  STOP 'IM  !    'E's  OOIHO  TO  JUMP,  ANI>  I  CAN'T  I" 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

.4  Poetical  Young  Person  is  inditing  an  effusion 
to  his  fancied  Mistress,  when  he  receives  a 
coldly -worded  missive. 

I  THOUGHT  that  we  were  friends  that  night, 
Or  .wmethino  rise,  or  something  else! 

You  filled  ray  heart  with  sweet  delight, 
Or  something  else,  <)«•  something  else! 

Your  lips  were  telephones  to  me, 

The  while  your  eyes  made  mine  to  see, 

I  fancied  all  that  you  might  be 
Of  something  else,  of  something  else! 

I  thought  that  we  'd  together  roam 

In  somewhere  else,  in  somewhere  else! 
But  everywhere  should  be  our  home 

In  somewhere  else,  in  somewhere  else! 
Mv  sunny  waters,  unknown  seas, 
'Mid  everlasting  blooms  and  trees, 
You,  only  you,  I  'd  slave  to  please, 
In  somewhere  else,  in  somewhere  else! 

You  never  should  your  power  lose, 
And  somewhat  else,  and  somewhat  else! 

Yours  be  the  right  to  pick  and  choose, 
And  somewhat^  else,  and  somewhat  else! 

Yours  be  the  voice  to  guide  our  way, 

You  to  command  and  I  obey, 

You  be  the  "  Yea,"  not  I  the  "  Nay," 
And  somewhat  rise,  and  somewhat  else! 

In  nraise  of  you  I  'd  use  a  ream, 
For  no  one  else,  for  no  one  else! 

Reality's  in  you  a  dream, 
In  no  one  else,  in  no  one  else! 

I  'd  written  this  when  you  upset 

My  auto-car,  and  with  regret 

I  read  between  the  lines,  you  Ve  met 
With  some  one  else,  with  some  one  else! 


A  WORD  PROM  THB  CRACKKRIES. — A  reli- 
able recipe  from  our  own  Crackery  book  on 
how_  to  make  a  Christmas  evening  go  oft 
as  it  should  in  the  crackiest.  cheeriest 
method.  First,  deck  the  board  in  all  the 
tinselled  graces  from  "  The  Artistic  Table 
Decorations,"  then,  under  the  blue  lieht 
of  the  "X  Rays,"  the  marvels  of  "The 
Cinomatographe  "  can  be  mixed  with  sea- 


sonable fare  from  "Relics  of  the  North," 
trifles  left  by  NAN-SEN'S  bears.  Most  di- 
gestible I  Though  possibly,  after  devouring 
"The  Christmas  Storiee,"  "Goblins,"  as 
the  pervading  spirit  of  festivity,  may  haunt 
one's  dreams.  No  matter,  with  such  in- 
"redients,  served  as  they  are  by  TOM 
SMITH,  a  true  evening-party  hilarity  is 
secured,  at  least  so  says 

ROB    ROT    McCRACKKRT,    Ol 


TKMPORARY  CHANGS  or  INITIALS. — 
"  A.  B."  writes  to  us,  saying,  "  It  is  very 
hard  on  me.  But  it  must  be  so.  I  enjoy 
Christmas  thoroughly — turkey,  pies,  pud- 
dings, and  all  the  golopshus  delicacies  of 
the  season.  When  Christmas  festivities  are 
over,  I  am  no  longer  'A.  B.,'  but  'C.  D.'" 


"SHINE  OUT,  FAIR  SUN." 

[The  Time*,  following  Mr.  Punch' t  iuggr*tion, 
again  rp<  ordi  the  sunshine.] 

WHAT  Afr.  Punch  suggested, 

Oh !  Times,  you  've  kindly  done. 
We  all  are  interested 
To  hear  about  the  sun. 
Who  'd  keep  a  log 
Of  rain  and  fog 
If  he  could  see  the  sun  ? 

Ainu,  the  record-making. 

Which  you  Ve  again  begun, 
Is  often  record-breaking 
In  just  recording  none! 
Day  after  day, 
You  mostly  say, 
"Bright  sunshine,  London,  none." 


WAKK  rp. — It  is  announced  that  Mr. 
GOODAY  will  be  the  new  General  Manager 
of  the  Brighton  Railway.  Travellers  on 
the  line  might  say  that  hitherto  Goodnight 
would  have  been  more  appropriate  for  the 
sleepy  railway  of  sleepy  Sussex.  Unless 
they  remarked  that  the  trip  from  Ports- 
mouth to  Hastings,  or  even  from  Victoria 
to  Brighton  after  4.30  P.M..  was  a  good 
day's  journey.  Good,  eh  P  Only  they  are 
ilways  too  miserably  tired  even  to  make 
bad  puns. 

At  the  Celestial   Restaurant. 

Customer  (indignantly).  Hi!  waiter, 
what  do  you  call  this  soup  P 

Waiter  (mrelcly).  I  not  know.  Sir,  but 
ze  padrone  tell  me  to  describe  'im  Cocks- 
tail  ! 


288 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  18,  1897. 


QUITE    AN    INSULT. 

Grandmamma  (to  the  boys,  arrived  for  a  week's  visit).  "So,  MY  DEARS, 

AS  THAT  NASTY  OLD  LEATHER  FOOTBALL  OF  UNCLE  FRANK'S  IS  TOO 
DANGEROUS  FOR  YOU,  I  HAVE  MADE  THIS  NICE  NEW  WORSTED  ONE 
FOR  YOU  TO  PLAY  WITH  INSTEAD." 


IN  BE— PINKEETON'S  INSURANCE. 

PART  II. — ttr.  Briefless  loses  both  a  Friend  and  a  Client. 
"  Now,  mind,  I  am  not  to  be  disturbed,"  I  said  to  PORTINGTON, 
as,  pen  in  hand,  I  sat  before  the  desk  upon  which  was  spread  the 
insurance  form  dealing  with  PINKERTON'S — if  I  may  use  the  ex- 
pression— vital  characteristics.  "To-day,  even  Sir  GEORGE  must 
wait,  and  if  the  matter  is  particularly  pressing,  hand  it  over  to 

Mr.  DE  PUTRE  POTTE." 

I  confess  I  was  not  very  sanguine  of  receiving  anything  of 
moment,  nor  desirous  of  advancing  the  forensic  career  of  the 
learned  gentleman — I  cannot  call  him  friend — I  had  mentioned, 
but  my  admirable  and  excellent  clerk  understood  me. 

"  Certainly,  Sir.  No  doubt  Mr.  DE  PUTRE  POTTE  will  be  very 
pleased  to  devil  for  you." 

"No  doubt,  PORTINOTON,  no  doubt.  He  is  welcome  to  the 
professional  distinction  such  an  office  may  confer  on  him." 

This  settled,  I  turned  my  attention  to  the  questions  that  I 
was  asked  to  answer.  I  had  PINKERTON'S  leave  to  reply  without 
fear  or  favour,  and  according  to  the  dictates  of  my  conscience. 

"  Hnw  long  have  yon  known  him  ?  " 

Well,  about  ten  or  twelve  years.  That  seemed  the  obvious 
reply,  but  then,  was  not  something  more  required?  To  say  that 
one  "  knows "  any  one  suggests  an  intimate  acquaintance  with 
the  person  that  was  scarcely  warranted  by  my  acquaintance  with 
PINKERTON.  Had  I  dined  with  him  ?  No,  not  even  on  Christ- 
mas Day.  So,  after  the  most  careful  consideration,  I  cautiously 
replied,  "I  have  never  really  known  him,"  putting  the  adverb 
into  italic. 


"  When  did  you  see  him  last,  and  was  he  then  in  good  health?  " 

The  first  part   of  the  answer  was  plain  sailing,  and  I  wrote 

Yesterday."  But  how  about  the  rest  ?  He  seemed  well  enough, 
but  then  I  am  no  doctor,  and  cannot  reply  as  an  expert.  So 
again,  I  replied  guardedly,  "He  told  me  he  was  in  good  health," 
putting  the  verb  this  time  in  the  emphasising  type. 

"  What  is  the  present  and  general  state  of  his  health  f  " 

Again  I  was  perplexed.  How  could  I  form  a  diagnosis  as  a 
layman  ?  It  was  unfair  to  ask  this  of  me.  So  I  disposed  of  the 
matter  by  writing,  "  I  would  prefer  not  to  say." 

"  Are  you  aware  of  his  having  at  any  time  been  seriously  un- 
well ?  And  if  so,  when ?  " 

Another  poser.  According  to  PINKERTON,  he  is  never  in  robust 
health,  in  fact,  quite  the  reverse.  So,  remembering  his  injunc- 
tion to  tell  the  truth,  the  whole  truth  and  nothing  but  the 
truth,  I  replied,  frankly,  "  From  what  he  tells  me  he  is  always 
seriously  unwell." 

"  Have  you  known  or  heard  of  his  being  afflicted  with  apoplexy 
palsy,  fits,  or  insanity,  with  asthma,  palpitation,  or  other  affec- 
tions of  the  heart,  lungs,  or  chest,  with  dropsy,  rheumatism,  gout, 
erysipelas,  or  any  other  disease  or  permanent  injury  which  may 
tend  to  shorten  life  ?  " 

Once  more  I  was  at  a  distinct  disadvantage.  How  was  I  to 
know  whether  PINKERTON  suffered  from  any  of  the  above  list  P 
So  I  wrote,  "  Again  I  would  prefer  to  keep  silence.  You  had 
better  ask  him  yourself."  And  then  my  legal  training  asserted 
itself.  So  I  added  a  rider,  "  You  are  not  bound — he  will  not  be 
making  an  affidavit — to  believe  everything  he  tells  you."  This, 
to  my  mind,  was  an  eminently  fair  answer,  and  could  do  no 
harm  to  any  one. 

"Do  you  know  his  habits  to  be  strictly  sober  and  temperate?  " 

Come,   this  was  too  strong!     I  was  indignant   at  having   to 
reply  to  so  insulting  a  question,  so  I  answered  in  a  tone  of  in- 
dignation, "Gentlemen,  he  is  my  friend,  and  I  refuse  to  answer." 
'  Do  you  believe  they  have  always  been  so  ?  " 

Here,  again,  was  an  unpleasant  and  even  embarrassing  inquiry. 
How  could  I  give  my  belief?  I  could  not  help  remembering  an 
occasion  when  he  said  I  was  not  personally  qualified  to  write  the 
book  I  propose  publishing  (which  will,  in  point  of  fact,  comprise 
my  memoirs),  From  the  Gown  of  the  Student  to  the  Chancellor's 
Wig:  the  Experiences  of  a  Practising  Barrister.  At  the  time  of 
the  assertion  I  had  declared  that  he  must  be  either  "mad  or 
drunk,"  so  I  wrote,  guardedly — giving  him,  so  to  speak,  the  bene- 
fit of  the  doubt — "  He  may  at  times  have  been  perfectly  sober." 

"  Is  his  occupation  or  mode  of  living  in  any  respect  injurious 
to  health  ?  " 

Again  a  poser.  I  recollected  that  he  mentioned  once  that  his 
medical  attendant  had  told  him  that  a  week  at  Margate  would  do 
him  a  world  of  good.  This  looked  as  if  the  physician  considered 
a  change  of  career  advisable.  So  I  put,  "Well,  after  all,  it's  a 
matter  of  opinion,  and  doctors  may  be  wrong  like  other  folk." 

"  Were  his  parents  long  lived?  " 

This  I  could  answer  off-hand.  He  is  very  reticent  about  his 
people,  so  I  wrote  the  truth,  "  He  never  will  tell  me." 

"  Have  any  of  his  near  relatives  been  affected  with  consumption, 
or  insanity,  or  any  other  disease  supposed  to  be  hereditary?" 

Now  this  I  could  answer  diplomatically,  and  moreover  show 
that  whatever  PINKERTON'S  head  might  be  his  heart  was  in  the 
right  place.  I  wrote  accordingly,  "I  kniow  he  has  always  been 
most  kind  to  his  family,  spending  most  of  his  time  at  their 
sick-beds." 

"  Are  there  any  other  circumstances  known  to  you  affecting  the 
elegibility  of  this  life  which  the  Directors  ought  to  know  ?  " 

Again  distinctly  inquisitorial,  so  I  administered  a  well-de- 
served snub,  "  Gentlemen,"  I  wrote,  "  I  will  not  betray  confi- 
dences." 

"Do  you  consider  the  proposed  assurance  more  than  usually 
hazardous?  " 

It  was  the  last  question,  so  I  thought  I  would  conclude  with 
a  word  of  pleasing  encouragement.  "Come,  gentlemen,"  I 
wrote,  "  show  yourselves  Englishmen  and  be  brave  1  " 

Glad  to  have  finished  my  task  I  opened  my  door,  and  my  ex- 
cellent and  admirable  clerk  entered. 

"  While  you  were  at  work,  Sir,  a  brief  was  left  for  you." 

Could  I  believe  my  ears !     Come,  this  was  good  news ! 

"  And  as  you  were  engaged,  and  they  wanted  to  consult 
counsel  at  once,  I  sent  them  on  to  Mr.  DE  PUTRE  POTTE." 

I  could  scarcely  speak.  See  what  I  had  sacrificed  on  the  altar 
of  friendship  1 

And  what  makes  the  disappointment  the  harder  to  bear  is,  that 
since  I  sent  in  the  paper  to  that  insurance  office,  PINKEKTON 
meets  me  almost  daily  and  invariably  cuts  me !  I  am  told  he  is 
still  a  bachelor.  (Signed)  A.  BRIEFLESS,  JUNIOR. 

Pump-Handle  Court,  December  12,  1897. 


DECEMBKR  25,  1897.]  PUNHI,    Oil    TIIK     LONDON    CH.MM  V.\  IM. 


Ml 


M 

• 
w 


JUVENILE   TIPPLE. 

Freddy  (with  an  air).  "HAVE  A  DROP,  UNCLE?" 
Uncle  (a  two-bottle  man).   "WHAT  is  IT,  FKEDDY  ! ' 
Freddy.  "COLD  TEA,  WITH  LOTS  OF  SDGAR.    Rims' 


A  SEASONABLE  YULE-TIDE. 

SCENE— Editorial  Sanctum,  Fleet  Street. 
TIME — December  24. 

Ei/i'for  (at  telephone).  Yes,  I  am  here. 

Firxt  Voice.  Australia.  Lovely  weather, 
and  the  cricketers  doing  famously.  Aw- 
fully hot,  but  not  too  hot  for  the  national 
game. 

Editor  (switching  on  another  wire).  Yes, 
I  am  here. 

Siritiitl  Voite.  America.  Summer-time 
according  to  the  English  accent.  Footer 
going  on  all  right.  Englishmen  distinctly 
popular. 

Editor  (tame  business).  Yes,  I  am  here. 


Third  Voice.  Cairo.  Hot  as  an  English 
July.  British  garrison  hard  at  work  at 
lawn-tennis  and  polo. 

Editor  (same  business).  Yes,  I  am  here. 

Fourth  Voice.  India.  Splendid  weather. 
Wonder  how  you  are  going  on  in  London. 
Old-fashioned  December,  eh?  Frost, 
snow,  mistletoe,  holly  and  fog,  eh  ?  Mean- 
while, we  over  here  are  up  to  our  eyes  in 
golf. 

Editor  (switching  on  all  wires).  Well, 
my  friends,  you  in  all  parti  of  the  world 
indulging  in  Summer  sports  under  a  sultry 
sky,  we  wish  you  a  Merry  Christmas. 

Att  the  Voices.  The  same  to  you !  And 
now  we  are  all  off  to  eat  plum-pudding ! 

[Curtain. 


I'.MJTXYI1    I'lirit    I,  A   (  HIM.. 
OB,  THE  Xr.w  KVAKOELIST. 

Mr    precious    HKNHT,    bear    my    parting 

speech, 

Ere  yet  you  sail  beyond  my  vocal  reach  1 
Oft   have  I   sauntered  round   bj    way  of 

Kid 
And  stopped,  like  thin,  to  take  a  transient 

meal  . 

But  never  have  I  sucked  the  local  brees* 
In  circumstances  so  unique  a*  these. 
To  see  you  launched  upon  your  First  t'ru- 


Sends  up  my  blood  to  60  (Centigrade). 
Remember,  HENBT,  it  's  a  Holy  War 
That  you  are  on  the  point  of  starting  for  ; 
Or,  bearing  still  in   mind  our  trade's  in- 

crease , 

Perhaps  I  ought  to  say  a  Holy  Peace. 
You  will  remark  aiming  my  sketchy  plans  a 
Design  for  re-estabVshing  a  Hansa  I 
\Vh;it   is  ;i  Hansa  ?     Any  one  who  looks 
Will  find  about  it  in  the  history  books; 
It  was  a  Syndicate  in  ancient  times 
For    planting    German    goods   in    various 

climes  ; 

It  swept  from  end  to  end  the  briny  blue 
As  we,  my  HF.NHY,  contemplate  to  do, 
Running  the  Ocean  on  our  own  account 
As  soon  as  we  can  raise  the  right  amount. 

Meanwhile   I  send  you  on  to  clear  the 

way; 

Arh,  Ilimmtl!  what  a  sacrifice  to  pay  I 
Think  of  me  sometimes.  HBNBY,  all  alone 
With  thorns  distributed  about  my  throne  I 
You  know  your  brother's  wish  ;  lay  hands, 

my  pet, 

On  any  mortal  thing  that  you  can  get. 
Employ,  if  feasible,  your  native  charms, 
But,  failing  this,  resort  at  onoe  to  arms. 
If  people  in  the  neighbourhood  resist, 
Let  out  upon  them  with  your  mailed  fist  ; 
It  saves  the  knuckles  ;  do  be  sure  to  take 
This   small   precaution  for  your  brother's 

sake. 

For  longer  range  yon  carry  shot  and  shell, 
In  case  you  see  a  running  infidel  ; 
I^also  hand  you  here  St.  Michael's  Shield, 
You  '11  stick  it  somewhere  on  the  coaling 

field. 

Observe  the  blar.on  —  our  Imperial  Bird, 
Of  which,  no  doubt,  the  dragons  will  have 

heard: 

Call  their  attention  to  it  ;  let  them  gee 
The  Fowl  is  emblematical  of  Me. 
One  dragon  you  will  notice,  should  he  come, 
Because  he  wears  a  large  chrysanthemum  ; 
HKNKT,  between  us  two,  as  man  to  man, 
Be  careful  how  you  jump  upon  Japan  ! 
And  now  before  you  make  a  final  clear- 

ance 

(This  is  your  positively  last  appearance), 
Before,  in  fact,  we  tear  ourselves  apart, 
Recite  that  little  thing  you  have  by  heart  ; 
And  tell  these  gentlemen  how  you  propose 
To  visit  countries  where  the  heathen  grows, 
And  preach  abroad  in  each  distinct  locality 
The  Gospel  of  my  hallowed  Personality. 

HBNKT,  my  boy,  I  cannot  lightly  smother 
The  sacred  feelings  of  an  only  brother  ! 
Pray   Heaven,  though   we  cannot  go  to- 

gether, 

You  may  enjoy  a  decent  turn  of  weather  ; 
And  when  your  task,  your  glorious  task,  is 

o'er 

<I  trust,  without  expenditure  of  gore) 
Omit  not  to  return  that  I  may  spread 
The  laurels  on  your  slightly  youthful  head. 
Charee  glasses  1     Ere  he  climbs  the  deadly 

poop. 
I    give    His    Royal    Highness  —  Whoop  ! 

WHOOP!!    WHOOP!!! 


vni,.    rxm. 


290 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DECEMBER  25,  1897- 


A    PRINCE    OF    CRICKET. 

Mr.  Punefi.  "  BIIAVO,  RANJI  !    PLUCKY  PERFORMANCE!" 


DKCKMUKU  25,   1897.] 


PUNCH,    OK    TIIK    l.o.MxiN    ril.MMY.MM. 


WE    MUSTN'T    ALWAYS    JUDGE    BY    APPEARANCES. 

"I  SAY,  BILL,  YOU  AREN'T  GOT  SUCH  A  THING  AS  THE  PRICE  (IF  'ARF  A  PINT  ABOUT  YOU,  ARE  YER?    I'M  so  BLOOMING 


"HOCtf!    TOBY,  M.P.,  AS  PRIVATE  REFEREE." 

(From  Ballads  of  BarK-shire,  by  the  late  Asox.) 

To  Mr.  Punch. 

REVERED  SIR, — In  the  large  leisure  of  the  Recess  I  have  read 
with  interest  Mr.  BRIEFLESS,  JUNIOR'S  account  of  his  doings  in 
connectien  with  a  form  of  inquiry  submitted  to  him  by  an  In- 
surance Company,  contemplating  effecting  a  policy  on  the  life 
of  one  of  his  friends.  By  a  coincidence,  which  shows  how  small 
the  world  is,  I  have  had  a  similar  application  made  to  me,  and 
beg  to  inclose  a  copy  of  my  reply.  I  should,  perhaps,  say  that 
the  inimitable  seriousness  of  the  catechism  is  a  literal  transcript 
of  the  official  printed  form. 

1.  How  many  years  have  you  known  him  ? — Since  the  death  of 
Queen  ANNE. 

2.  Are  you  in  the  habit  of  seeing  him  frequently? — Too. 

3.  \Vhen  did  you  last  see  him? — On  the  stroke  of  midnight. 

4.  In  what  state  of  health  was  he  at  that  time  ?— Shaky  on  his, 
pins. 

6.  What  has  been  the  general  state  of  his  health  since  you 
have  known  him  ? — Hopeless. 

6.  Do  you  know,  or  have  you  ever  heard,  that  he  has  had  asthma, 
any  fit,  habitual  cough,  spitting  of  blood,  or  any  disorder  tend- 
ing to  the  shortening  of  life? — Everything  of  that  sort,  and  more. 

7.  Do  you  know  if  any  of  his  relations  have  been  affected  with, 
or  have  died  of,  consumption  ? — All  gone  ;  some  galloped. 

8.  Is  he  subject  to  gout,  insanity,  or  any  other  constitutional 
disorder? — Nothing  in  that  way  comes  amiss  to  him.     He  had 
measles  before  he  was  three  days  old. 

9.  Are  you  acquainted  with  his  ordinary  manner  of  living? — 
Alas  1  yes. 

10.  11  MS  he  been  a  person  of  temperate  habits? — Not  since  I 
have  known  him. 

11.  Is  he  now  a  person  of  temperate  habits? — To  some  extent 
he  is  at  breakfast-time. 

12.  Has  he  ever  met  with  any   serious  accident  ? — He  once 
fell  into  the  coal-cellnr  under  the  impression  it  was  the  key-hole 
of  the  front  door,  and  that  his  right  leg  was  the  latch-key. 

13.  Is  there  any  other  circumstance  or  information  respecting 


his  past  or  present  health  and  habits  of  life,  within  your  know- 
ledge or  belief,  with  which  the  Directors  of  this  society  ought  to 
be  made  acquainted  ?— There  are  several ;  but  perhaps  I  hare 
aid  enough. 

You  will  observe  that  I  have  felt  it  right  to  be  perfectly  frank 
n  the  matter.  I  have  not  yet  heard  whether  my  friend  baa  had 
-he  desired  policy  issued  to  him. 

Yours,  with  esteem  and  respect,        TOBT,  M.P. 
The  Kennel,  Barks. 

A  Change   of  Cloth. 

MaryUbone  Moderate  (reading  "Evening  News"  pottfr). 
What'*  this?  "Billiards.  Brilliant  Play  07  DIOOUI"?  Glad 
to  see  the  reverend  gentleman  is  consoling  himself  I 

ADVERTISER,  having  a  few  Missionaries  to  dispose  of,  wishes 
'.o  meet  with  Chinese  or  other  purchaser.  What  offer*?  Would 
iccept  half  the  Celestial  Empire,  a  brand  new  Navy  or  a  Rhyming 
Dictionary. — WILLIAM,  Potsdam. 

A  Polar  Puzzle. 

Q.  Why  does  HERR  ANDRBB  resemble  an  obstinate  voter? 
A.  Because  he  is  determined  to  get  to  the  poll. 

Answers  to  Correspondents. 

BLIGHTED. — You  ask  us  to  give  you  some  remedy  for  "  a  mind 
diseased,"  and  to  prescribe  something  which  will  keep  you  from 
thinking  about  the  lost  loved  one.  Nothing  is  easier.  Go  to 
a  chemist  and  ask  him  for  1  ounce  assafoetida,  2  wormwood,  and 
2  Epsom  salta.  Mix  and  take  in  one  dose.  After  that,  you 
will  think  of  nothing  but  how  to  get  the  taste  out  of  your  mouth 
for  the  next  week. 

INQUIRER.— It  is  rather  hard  to  obtain  an   interview  with  a 
Prime  Minister.     The  best  way  is  to  pretend  to  be  somebody 
else.     Of  course,  if  the  Prime  Minister  doesn't  enter  heartil 
into  the  game,  why,  then  he  wins,  and  you  are  out;    pretty 
quickly,  too.     Perhaps  worth  trying  aa  an  experience. 


292 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  25,  1897. 


PUNCH    AND    THE    POLE. 

THE    VERT  LATEST  ARCTIC  EXPEDITION. 

Mr.  PUNCH  has  pleasure  in  announcing  that,  undeterred  by  the  failure  of  all  previous  expeditions, 
he  is  now  on  his  way  to  the  North  Pole.  According  to  the  Westminster  Gazette,  an  American  skipper 
recently  presented  the  head-man  of  an  Eskimo  community  with  a  Punch-and-Judy  Show.  The  Eskimo's 
son  is  now  an  expert  at  the  business,  and  makes  the  familiar  marionettes  dance  about,  to  the  intense 
delight  of  his  friends.  The  show  is  known  among  the  Eskimo  as  "  Boont-an-toody." 


CHRISTMAS  PRESENTS. 

(A  Caitdiil  Confesswn.) 

YBS,  I  received,  my  worthy  BROWN, 

Your  Christmas  present  yesterday, 
Quite  worth,  no  doubt,  the  good  half-crown 

For  carriage  that  I  had  to  pay. 
Though  you  passed  on  a  gift  cigar 

Undue  expenditure  to  save  you, 
Yet,  price  for  price;  no  doubt  they  ore 

Well  worth  the  liquor  that  I  gave  you. 

That  "  Rare  old  Scotch  from  Special  Vat  " 

(Although  I  hoped  you  wouldn't  guess  it) 
Was  given  me — but  what  of  that  ? — 

A  year  ago,  I  must  confess  it. 
Yet  even  so,  friend  (I  '11  engage 

You  had  your  hamper  carriage  free), 
It  may  be  fiery,  but  its  age 

Twelve  months,  at  least,  I'll  guarantee. 

But  as  for  those  cigars,  all  flam, 

"  Flor  de  "  Whitechapel,  I  don't  doubt  it  1 
Sheer  cabbage-leaf,  not  worth  a — rap  ! 

Yet  I  won't  say  too  much  about  it, 
For  I  myself  am  half  to  blame 

(Though  you  forgot  it,  I  dare  say), 
I  recognised  them  as  the  same 

That  I  sent  you  last  Christmas  Day. 


SONGS  FOR  THE  NATION. 

"  Let  me  write  a  nation's  songs,  and  I  don't  caie 
twopence  who  frumes  its  laws." — Confooshius. 

WHILE  "  drinking  "  has  been  glorified  by 
numberless  poets,  eating-songs  have  been 
sadly  neglected.  To  help  to  till  an  aching 
void  has  been  my  humble  endeavour.  The 
great  problem  was  to  write  a  song  which 
would  be  truly  national  by  appealing  to  all 
sections  of  the  public.  That  problem  I 
have  solved.  Here  it  is. 

NATIONAL  FEEDING-SONG. 
Hail,  brothers !  hail  the  festive  board  I 

On  gastronomic  wing 
To  culinary  heights  we  've  soared, 

To  chuckle,  feed,  and  sing. 
With  soup  and  fish  and  flesh  and  fowl, 

Cast  every  care  behind, 
Let  bitter-faced  ascetics  howl, 

We  '11  eat  until  we  're  blind. 

Chorus. 

Joys  of  the  table  are  many  and  rare, 
None  but  the  brave  are  deserving  the  fare. 
Turkeys   and   pheasants   and    patties    and 

hams, 

Salmon  and  ven'son  and  jellies  and  jams, 
Here  's  to  them  all  with  a  yell  and  a  whoop, 


And  here  's  to  the  turtle  when  turned  into 

soup ; 

Calipash,  calipee, 
Are  the  "  jockies  "  for  me, 
Hurrah  for  the  turtle  in  glorious  soup  I 

The  Vegetarian  Verse. 
All  hail  the  soft,  seraphic  joy 
Of  turnip-tops  and  greens  ! 
Come,  join  our  blissful  ranks,  uiy  boy, 

And  we  will  "  give  you  beans." 
The  soul  that  slays  the  tender  sheep 

Is  savage,  fierce  and  grim; 
Enough  to  make  a  cabbage  weep 
Are  cannibals  like  him. 

Chorus. 
Hut  a  cheer  for  the  gentle  and  nourishing 

lentil, 

ilurrah  lor  banana  and  pippin  and  "  pine," 
ihe  rnusnroom  so  merry,  the  succulent 

cherry, 

On  which  so  serenely  we  daintily  dine. 
A   tig  lor   the    tellow    who    turns   troin  a 

mellow 

And  beautiful  pear  for  the  sake  of  a  chop  ; 
He  may  go  otf  to  China,  or  isouth  Carolina, 
And  wnen  he  has  got  tnere  we  hope  he  will 

stop! 

Tl'e  wiu  remain  to  devour  at  our  ease 
Prunes  and  potatoes  and   porridge  and 
peas. 

i'liK  Sehoulboys'  Verse. 
Come  all  you  kiu.s,  and  sing  a  song 

Ul  peppermint  and  pie, 
Digestions  sucii  as  ours  are  strong, 

And  ostricues  dery. 
So  ladle  out  tne  marmalade 

And  mix  it  up  wit  n  cream, 
Add  sardines — eat  the  mess  you  've  made, 
Then  lay  you  down  anu  Ureain. 

C/iorus. 

For  it 's  cheer,  boys,  cneer,  boys,  for  cho- 
colate and  buns 
("One   a    penny,    two    a    penny,"    so   the 

legend  runs;, 

Pufl's  and  tarts  and  cocoa-nut,  and  every- 
thing tuat  's  nice, 

And  we  'li  give  an  "  extra  special "  for  tie 
stunning  penny  ice. 


AFTER  THE  SPEECHES  WERE  OVtR. 

(Ail  entirely  .linayuiary  Ucnvcrsatiun.) 

Senior.  Well,  my  dear  HENRY,  1  think 
we  got  over  tiiat  little  lunctiou  pretty  well. 

Junior,  les,  \VILLIAM;  ana  now  your 
omy  Drotner  it>  oil  to  Cniua. 

,5.  Take  care  01  jouisuii,  and  mind  you 
get  lots  ot  laurels  lor  your  ^uucniul  blow. 

J .  Don't  cnan.  Anu  i  say,  11  you  were 
so  proud  of  tne  Great  Chancellor,  wny  did 
you  kick  him  outf 

S.  if  you  cneek  me,  hang  me  if  I  don't 
send  you  into  banisnment  I 

J.  Well,  a  trip  to  tne  Far  East,  after 
all,  is  not  exactly  home  service. 

&'.  But,  my  dear  HENRY,  1  am  giving 
you  as  a  pledge — you,  my  only  brother. 

J .  Yes,  a  joke  's  a  joke,  but  this  is  going 
a  little  too  tar. 

ib'.  Perhaps,  for  you,  but  not  for  me. 
However,  don  t  let 's  quarrel. 

J.  Good-bye,  old  man.  A  happy  Christ- 
mas to  you ! 

A'.  And  a  prosperous  New  Year  to  you ! 
[Exeunt  severally. 


REWARD  FOE  GALLANTRY. — What  distinc- 
tion is  going  to  be  conferred  on  Lieutenant 
UE  BRETT,  who  loaded  and  fired  the  gun  at 
the  risk  of  his  life  when  extricating  the 
escort  retiring  from  Maizar  ?  The  name 

DE  BRETT  "  is  associated  with  "  the 
Peerage." 


DKCKMUBH  25,   1897.] 


ITNCH,    OK   THE    LONDON    cllAlll  VARI. 


THE  SENSIBLE   PAJiTK. 

["Sir  MATTHKW  WHITK  KIULBT  «*iJ  tlii-y  could  not  hoj»  lo  win  Uie 
elwtiuiu  iu  March  wlnlo  they  culied  Uivuuviviu  •  Moderate*.'  1*1  them 
change  tin'  iiuiiii-.  ilt>  »<mlu  tuggert  <.»•••  i.--t  Uieui  tw  tlic  '  Sf imiblc ' 
Party." — Jfuuy  i'apcr.] 

WHY  are  we  so  unpopular?     The  name  is  what  is  wrong  with  us. 

\\  ho  could  enthuse  at  "  Moderate  "  't  The  word  U  null  an  starch. 
\\  t-  imiM  change  it  it  we  are  not  to  be  told  to  get  along  with  on, 

And  s«nt  about  our  business  at  the  polling-booths  iu  Man  h 
Au.  alias  is  rapidly  becoming  indispensable, 

\\  e  want  a  uamo  will  rally  good  electors  to  our  call. 
I    have    it  1     \V  hy    nut    dub    ourselves    not    "  Moderate "     but 
"Sensible"— 

A  first-class  hghting  adjective  that  will  appeal  to  all. 

It 's  a  charming  appellation,  and  implies  so  many  qualities, 

It  means  we  're  everything  that 's  right  and  nothing  that  is 

wrong, 
We  have  no  silly  fancies,  no  extravagant  frivolities, 

\>  e  are  not  as  Progressives  are — we  hate  the  vulgar  throng. 
\\e  never  say,  or  think,  or  do  a  thing  that's  repretiengible, 

\\  e  're  patterns  of  the  virtues,  we  are  wise  and  perfect  souls. 
Let 's  call  our  party  what  it  is,  videlicet,  the  "  Sensible," 

And  take  my  word,  we  '11  carry  all  before  us  at  the  poll*. 


OUK  BpOKING-OmCK 

IN  The  School  for  Haintt  (FisHKR  UNWIN),  JOHN  OLIVBB 
HOBBKS  is  tiresomely  clever.  This  is  a  result  largely  due  to  the 
circumstance  that  she  has  deliberately  tounded  ner  style  upon 
that  of  the  author  ot  Cunintjiby.  DIHRABLI  s  literary  style  was 
the  worst  thing  about  his  novels,  a  fantastic  garment  the  wear- 
ing 01  wlncii  was  possible  only  to  its  inventor.  No  one  but 
DIZZY  could  have  invented  it,  and  as  far  as  the  patience  of  man- 
kind stretches,  none  but  he  is  endurable  in  the  tricky  spangled 
garb.  JOHN  OLIVER  HOBBBS,  dauntless  beyond  compare,  not 
only  laboriously  copies  the  manner,  but  brings  on  to  her  stage 
the  man.  He  is  a  poor,  padded  creature,  wound  up  to  say  a 
few  glittering  things,  and  when  the  too  obvious  machinery  is 
exhausted,  he  collapses.  All  this  is  a  pity,  for  the  author  ot 
A  Sinner's  Comedy,  and  Some  Emotions  and  a  Moral,  is  capable 
of  better  things.  This  is  proved  in  the  opening  scene  ot  her 
latest  novel,  by  far  the  best  passage  in  a  fatally  ambitious  effort. 
JOHN  OI.IVKK  should  trust  to  herself,  let  herself  go  along  her 
own  path  without  attempt  to  tow  frigates,  old-fashioned  or  new. 
By  the  way,  this  erudite  writer  puts  a  familiar  couplet  thus  :  — 

Sou  yen  t  feuioie  varie ; 

Jtal  hulnl  <iui  »'y  tie. 
In  my  Baronite's  recollection  the  last  line  runs:  — 

Bifii  lol  (jui  »'y  tie. 

It  is  certainly  a  better  rendering. 

Those  Dreadful  Twins,  on  their  own  showing,  are  feeble  in 
comparison  with  their  elder  relatives.  They  evidently  enjoyed 
their  own  fun,  and  no  one  will  begrudge  them  this  pleasure. 

An  Almanac  of  Twelve  Sports,  by  WILLIAM  NICHOLSON  (HisiNB- 
MANN),  with  words  by  RUUYARD  KIPLING,  appears  in  that  curious 
revival  of  old,  quaintly-coloured  drawing  which  the  artist  affects 
uniquely,  and  so  successfully.  Immensely  clever,  but  not  to  be 
recommended  to  anybody  with  anything  like  "  a  head  on,"  in  the 
morning  after  a  Christmas  revel. 

GILBERT  ABBCKBTT'S  Comic  History  of  England   (BRADBURY, 
AGNEW  &  Co.),  is  by  this  time  a  Classic  of  Light  Literature. 
Were   our   youthful   students— not  too    youthful— to  have  t 
work  put  into  their  hands  for  a  couple  of  half-hours  a  week,  the 
Baron  ventures  to  think  that  those   possessed  of  any  sense  o 
humour,  after  reading  a  chapter  or  so,  writ  and  illustrated  by 
two  Laughing  Philosophers,  would  return,  with  increased  seat, 
to  the  serious  study  of  English  history.     The  first  volume  of  the 
Comu   Hitfnry  carries  us  up  to  the  coronation  of  HENRY  THE 
SEVENTH,   which  comes  as  a  grand  finale   after  the  theatrical, 
cut-and-thrust.    sensational    combat    between    RICHMOND    and 
RICHARD  THE  THIRD  on  Bosworth  Field.    JOHN  LEECH  g  illust 
tions,  bright  with  colour,  are  very  gems  in  this  work,  executed 
one  and  all  of  them  in  the  genuine  spirit  of  burlesque ! 
that  "  rien  n'r*t  sacrt  pour  un  sapeur,"  but  in  this  instance  the 
"OTpcur"  is  the  artist,  who,  like  Hilly  Taylor  in  tie  ballad,  is 
"  full  of  mirth  and  full  of  spree,"  and  whose  work,  meet 
vouwill.isthatof  a  genios.  and  isa  ioy  for  ever.         Custom  cannot 
stale  his  infinite  variety.1'     May  that  date  be  far  distant  in  the 
comic  history  of  our  country  when  a  rising  generation  shall 
unable  to  enjoy  the  combined  work  of  GILBERT  ABECKETT  and 
JOHN  LMCH.  THE  BABON  DB  B.-W  . 


PROOF. 

"You  WON'T  GO  IN  THAT  DAKK.ROOM  ALONE  BY  .YOURSELF,  TOMMY." 
"OH  ('WON'T  1 1    You  JUST  con*  WITH  at,  AND  SBBMBDOITI" 


STILL  ABROAD. 

Vienna. — Next  morning  to  a  bank.  Find  exchange  office. 
In  glass  case,  hermetically  sealed,  sits  melancholy  cashier, 
look  at  him  ;  he  looks  mournfully  at  me.  He  rises  slowly  ;  open* 
portion  of  glass  case.  He  seems  to  be  crushed  by  some  hopeless 
grief.  I  ask  him  if  lie  speaks  English.  I  am  sure  I  can  put  more 
sympathy  into  words  of  my  own  language.  He  answer*,  in  a 
sad  whisper,  that  he  does.  Then  I  beg  him  to  change  my  circu- 
lar note.  I  do  it  as  gently  as  possible,  but  all  the  time  I  fear 
he  will  break  down.  He  gaxes  disconsolately  at  me  while  I  en- 
dorse it.  I  give  it  to  him.  Perhap*  I  ought  to  grasp  his  out- 
stretched hand,  shake  it  for  a  few  moments,  and  murmur,  " 
up,  my  dear  Sir,  do  not  give  way  entirely."  I  hesitate,  and  the 
opportunity  is  lost.  With  a  heart-breaking  sigh,  he  close*  the 
glass  shutter,  and  totters  back  to  his  seat.  I  sit  down,  and  wait 
silently  in  respectful  sympathy.  Take  up  newspaper,  sadly. 
Peruse  the  Deaths. 

Read,  slowly,  the  undertaker's  advertisements, 
hasn't  moved.     Read  again.     Another  peep.     He  hasnt  moved 
yet.     What  can  I  read  now  ?     Ah,  the  inquerts.     Read   them 
very   deliberately,   and   peep   once   more.     He    is    still     trtr.-. 
gazing  at  vacancy.     Perhaps   I    might  cough   gently.     Try   it. 
His  mournful  eyes  turn  reproachfully  upon  me. 
fusion  behind  the  paper,  and  read  about  a  cnme.     Cant  wait 
here  all  day.     Peep  again.     I  believe  he  is  going  to  sleep.     *eel 
sleepy  myself.     Better  get  it  over.     Stand  up.     He  sees  me,  and 
is  quite  overcome.     He  beckons  to  another  cashier,  almort 
melancholy,    who   brings    roe   a  bonfcnm.      I    prese 
another  glass  case,  and  a  third  man,  equally  sad,  hands 
money     It  is  all  over.     I  bow,  in  grave  and  sympathetic  silence 
to  the  three  grief-stricken  gentlemen,  and  the.v  bow  i 
to   me.     I  can   hardly   repress  a  name  sob.     I   hasten,   past  a 
dismal  porter,   into  the  lobby.     I   gladly   see     ««"«»«£• 
word    "Thiswayout,"   and   I   run   down    the    staircase  into 
sunshine  and  fresh  air.     Feel  happier  at  once.  . 
No  wonder  they  are   depressed.     The   double  windows   of  that 
bank  have  probably  never  been  opened  « 


294 


PUNCH,   OR  THE  LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  25,   1897. 


THE    PITFALLS    OF    OUR    ORTHObPY. 

"WELL,  DOCTOR,  AND  DO  YOU  EXPECT  TO  DO  MUCH  SLEIGHING  THIS  WINTER?' 


CONFOUND  THEIR  POLITICS! 

WHEN  the  jolly  hall-clock,  crowned  by  ivy 

and  holly,  ticks 

Merrily,  cheerily,  Christmastide  in, 
We  dream  for  awhile  we  have  got  rid  of 

politics, 

Prejudiced  patter  and  partisan  din. 
Pooh  i     Not  a  bit  of  it  I     Fancy  you  're 

quit  of  it — 

The  old  cantankerous,  rancorous  rot ; 
Worrying  wrangle  and  sour  would-be  wit 

of  it, 
Stuff  only  fit  for  where  rubbish  is  shot  ? 

Nay,  the  ubiquitous,  stupid,  iniquitous, 
Rantipole  rigmarole  rowdy  and  rude, 
Clapperclaw  lingo  of  Rad  versus  Jingo, 
With     vinegar,     verjuice,     and     venom 

imbued, 

Never  holds  holiday !     Faction's  long  folly- 
day 
Knows  not   the   surcease   of  night   and 

sweet  slumber. 

Politics,  leaving  a  year  not  one.  jolly  day, 
Now    have   invaded    our    old   Christmas 
Number !  1 ! 


Very  Much.  Abroad. 

Brown.  I  say,  SMITH,  you've  been  here 
before.  Tell  me  where  I  can  get  a  first 
dish  of  Tete  de  veaw? 

Smith.  Tete  de  reov?  Let's  see,  that's 
"  calf's  head,"  isn't  it  ?  Well,  I  heard  of  a 
place  where  they  ought  to  have  it  good,  as 
they  call  it  the  Hotel  de  Veal. 

Mamma  (to  TINY  TOT,  who  wants  to  de- 
prive her  younger  brother  of  a  delicacy 
they  have  both  set  their  hearts  on).  No, 
darling,  you  must  let  Baby  have  it  now, 
and  when  he  grows  up,  and  you  are  a  young 
lady,  he  will  have  to  give  way  to  you. 

Tiny  Tot.  Is  that  why  Papa  always  has 
to  do  as  you  want,  Mummy  ? 

"  THE  Beaver  Line  mail  steamer  Gallia  is 
bringing  400  tons  of  Canadian  poultry  for 
English  Christmas  markets."  Such  a 
cargo  is  out  of  the  "  Beaver  Line."  It 
ought  to  carry  "  beeves  "  for  our  Christinas 
market. 

MOTTO  FOR  THE  UNDEFEATED  DIARIST. — 
"  LETTS  "  alone ! 


TO  AN  OLD  FOGEY 

Wlio  contends  thn,t  Christmas  is  playrd  out- 

O  FRANKLY  bald  and  obviously  stout ! 

And  so  you  find  that  Christmas,  as  a  fete 
Dispassionately  viewed,  is  getting  out 
Of  date. 

You  say  it  comes  of  moral  impotence 

That   people   loathe  the   thing  and   yet 

renew  it ; 

You  can't  imagine  why  a  man  of  sense 
Should  do  it. 

The  studied  festal  air  is  overdone  ; 

The  humour  of  it  grows  a  little  thin  ; 
You  fail,  in  fact,  to  gather  where  the  fun 
Comes  in. 

Visions  of  very  heavy  meals  arise 

That  tend  to  make  your  organism  shiver  ; 
Roast-  beef  that  irks,  and  pies  that  agonise 
The  liver ; 

Those  pies  at  which  you  annually  wince, 
Hearing  the  tale  how  happy  months  will 

follow 

Proportioned  to  the  total  mass  of  mince 
You  swallow. 

Visions  of  youth  whose  reverence  is  scant, 
Who  with  the  brutal  verve  of  boyhood's 

prime 

Insist  on  being  taken  to  the  pant- 
-omime. 

Visions  of  couples  who  arrange  to  kiss 
(With  no  particular  excuse  to  show) 
In  public  places  underneath  the  mis- 
-tletoe. 

Of  infants,  sitting  up  extremely  late, 
Who  run   you  on  toboggans   down  the 

stair ; 

Or  make  you  fetch  a  rug  and  simulate 
A  bear. 

This  takes   your  faultless  trousers   at  the 

kne«9, 

The  other  hurts  them  rather  more  behind  ; 
And  both  effect  a  fracture  in  your  ease 
Of  mind. 

All  which  is  why  you  resolutely  launch 
Out  into  language  of  the  baser  sort, 
Describing    Christmas     as     an     overrated 
branch 

Of  sport. 

^f.V  good  dyspeptic,  this  will  never  do  ; 

Your  weary  withers  must  be  sadly  wrung  ! 
Yet  once  I  well  believe  that  even  you 
Were  young. 

Time  was  when  you  devoured  with  other 

boys 

Plum-pudding  sequent  on  a  turkey-hen  ; 
And  cracker-mottos  hinting  of  the  joys 
Of  men. 

Time    was   when    with   the    maidens   you 

would  pull 

The  fiery  raisin  with  profound  delight  ; 
When  spngs  of  mistletoe  seemed  beautiful 
And  right. 

Old   Christmas  changes  not  I     Long,   long 

ago 

He  won  the  treasure  of  eternal  youth  ; 
Fours  is  the  dotage — if  you  want  to  know 
The  truth. 

Come,  now,  I  '11  cure  your  case,  and  ask  no 

fee  :  — 
Make  others'   happiness  this  once   your 

own  ; 

All  else  may  pass  :  that  joy  can  never  be 
Outgrown ! 


PUNCH,    OR   THE   LONDON   CHARIVARI.— DBCKMBKH  •_'!>,  1897. 


/  r/  5  c 


STIRRING  TIMES. 


FATHER  CHHI8TMA8  (to  Jfom.  -LABOUB"  and  " CAPITAL").  ".COME,  MY  FRIENDS,  LEND  A  HAND, 
OE  THE  CHRISTMAS  PUDDING  WILL  HAVE  TO  BE  -MADE  IN  GERMAN 5T 


DECEMBER  25,   1837.] 


PUNCH,  on  Tin-;  LONDON  ni.\i:i\  .\m. 


THE    AMERICAN    STYLE. 

["1  don't  like  the  American  •tyle  of  titling  on  the  wither!  and  leaning  almost  OTBT  the  hone't  tun,  with>  thort,  tight  hold  of  the  rain*.", 

fiporttny 
"Is  THAT  CHAV  COMIN"  OFF,  OH  IB  HK  TRYIN'  THE  NEW  AMERICAN  STYLE?' 


TO  A  REAL  BAD  SHOT. 


the  turnips  or  the  heather, 
All  your  friends  with  truth  aver 
That  you  never  touch  a  "  feather," 
And  are  just  us  kind  to  "  fur." 

Safely  might  the  haystack  rocket 

O'er  your  misdirected  gun, 
Barn-door  fowls  might  sitting  mock  it  — 

You  would  miss  them,  ten  to  one. 

I  have  seen  you  oft  endeavour 
Oil'  the  easiest  shot  to  bring, 
But,  old  chap,  I  "m  sure  I  "ye  never 
you  hit  a  single  thing. 


Yet  you  've  qualities  endearing, 

I  have  found  you,  I  confess, 
Keen,  good-tempered,  persevering, 

Though  you  ne'er  "  command  success." 

Often  I  have  heard  your  pleasant 

Jest,  by  failure  unrebutfed, 
"  If  I  ever  kill  a  pheasant, 

I  shall  have  the  beggar  stuffed  !  " 

And  you  scorn  those  simple  ruses— 
"  Birds  broke  badly  "-  -'•  got  up  wild  "- 

And  the  other  old  excuses 

Over  which  we  all  have  smiled. 

Though  the  keeper  you  may  charm  less, 
Bird  and  beast  your  praises  swell, 

Fur  and  feather  find  you  harmless, 
Consequently  love  you  well. 

On  the  moor  or  on  the  stubble 
Birds  resolve  —  I  'm  sure  they  do, 

(Certain  life  rewards  their  trouble)  — 
Always  to  get  up  to  you. 


This  I  prove  past  all  refuting — 
You  on  beats  you  've  often  shot 

Frequently  get  all  the  shooting — 
Old  birds  teach  the  young  a  lot  I 

So,  beloved  of  pheasant,  partridge, 
Hare  and  rabbit,  snipe  and  duck, 

Blaze  away  the  uncounted  cartridge — 
Some  day  yon  may  kill,  with  luck ! 


ChiloTs  Picture-Book  Fairy  o/  '97  (to  ditto  o/ 
'67).  "DEAR  MB  I  WHAT  A  VERY  SHOWY 
YOCNO  PERSON  I " 


THOSE  PRIVATE  THEATRICALS  I 

A  LITTLE  play,  by  no  PINKBO — 

Yet  in  their  old-world  Georgian  dress 
I  still  can  picture  Q.,  the  hero, 

And  dainty  leading  lady  JEW*. 
How,  kind  or  cruel,  flouting,  flirting, 

His  abject  homage  she  exacts, 
With  airs  and  graces  most  diverting  1 

Dear  JESS,  how  well  [I  thought]  she  acts  I 

The  plot  was  no  new  revelation — 

Confiding  hero,  villain  friend, 
The  usual  old  false  accusation , 

Triumphant  virtue,  happy  end. 
Their  final  love-scene — how  she  played  it  I 

Not  even  now  my  pen  detracts 
Aught     from     the     play's     micceas — she 
"  made  "  it ! 

By  Jove,  how  well  [they  said]  she  acts  I 

They  played  the  play  out  some  weeks  after 

On  other  stage,  in  other  dress, 
No  audience,  no  "tears  and  laugh ter"- 

When  O.  one  day  eloped  with  JEM. 
A  tragedy  you  now  discover, 

Because — to  shortly  state  the  fact* — 
She  'd  tried  to  make,  and  made,  me  lore 
herl 

Alas,  how  well  [I  know]  she  acts  I 

CTJBIOUS  ZOOLOGICAL  FACT. — At  the  Crys- 
tal Palace  they  raise  the  cry  of  "  WULJT," 
—a  cry  that  appears  to  be  generally  ap- 
preciated. No  Little  Red  Riding  Hood, 
who,  of  course,  is  fond  of  equestrian  scene* 
in  a  circus,  need  fear  to  visit  this  particu- 
lar WCLFF  now  staying  at  Sydenham. 

SUGGESTED  TITLE  FOR  THE  SHOW  AT 
OLYMPIA. — The  Barnumberies. 


298 


PUNCH,    OR    THE    LONDON    CHARIVARI.  [DKOEMBBK  25,  1897. 


THE    MINISTERIAL    "MIRROR    OF    VENUS!" 

( With  profound  apologies  to  Sir  Edward  Burne- Jones. ) 

["  They  had  never  known  a  Government,  which,  if  he  might  use  the  language  of  the  street,  "  fancied"  iteelf  to  the  extent  to  which  the  present 
Government  did.  If  he  was  to  draw  a  fancy  picture  of  the  present  Government  he  should  paint  a  plain  woman  admiring  herself  in  a  looking-glass.  The 
instinct  was  there  although  Nature  might  have  denied  the  proper  conditions  for  its  exercise." — Sir  Henry  Campbell-Bannerman' s  speech  at  Liverpool.'] 


SPECIAL  INFORMATION. 

IN  the  "  Notes  and  Queries  "  occupying  the  last  pages  of  the 
interesting  Hampstead  Annual  for  1897  (it  is  edited  by  Mr. 
ERNEST  RHYS,  and  contains  an  admirable  photograph  of  GEORGE 
DU  MAURIER,  likewise  a  sympathetic  article  by  "Kiki's,"  or 
"  Kicky 's"  friend,  Canon  AINGER),  there  occurs  an  inquiry,  put 
by  a  "Hampstead  Astronomer,"  as  to  one  of  the  "earliest 
tenants"  of  "Jack  Straw's  Castle,"  who,  it  was  said,  was  an 
"astronomer  of  some  eminence."  Evidently  the  astronomer  must 
have  been  "  of  some  eminence,"  since  he  lived  on  the  top  of 
Hampstead  Hill.  But  this  apart,  we  beg  to  furnish  "F.  F.  C." 
with  the  following  information  : 

JOHN  ASTRONOMER,  living  in  his  observatory  on  the  heights 
of  Hampstead,  was  not  above  a  jest,  which,  being  a  rich  man, 
he  could  afford  to  make  at  his  own  expense.  He  originated  such 
sayings  as  "  Straws  show  which  way  the  wind  blows.''  "  It  is  the 
last  straw  that  breaks  the  camel's  back,"  "An  Englishman's 
house  is  his  castle." 

The  country-folk  about,  catching  at  the  straws  above-men- 
tioned, nicknamed  his  house  "Jack  the  A-straw-nomer's  Castle." 

Gradually  it  came  to  be  believed  that  JACK  never  existed,  and 
that  he  was  only  "a  man  of  straw."  A  generation  later,  an  inn 
had  been  built  on  the  site,  and  it  was  to  have  been  called  "  The 
Castle  Inn  of  Jack  the  Man  of  Straw."  But  the  prudent  pro- 
prietor, at  whose  expense  the  sign-board  was  to  be  lettered  and 
painted,  reduced  the  title  to  "Jack  Straw's  Castle."  And  so  it 
remains  to  this  day. 

Something  else  brand  new  is  to  be  learnt  from  a  paper  in  this 
annual,  namely,  that  KEATS  was  a  rider  to  hounds.  How  other- 
wise would  any  one  interpret  the  information  that  KEATS  went 
to  HUNT  at  Hampstead  ? 


PBOFESSIONAL  DECEPTION. 

SIR, — I  do  not  know  if  your  legal  adviser  be  Mr.  BRIEFLESS  of 
Pump-Handle  Court,  or  whether  you,  Mr.  Punch,  are  willing  to 
give  me  your  opinion  as  to  the  moral  to  be  derived  from  the  recent 
case  of  MASKELYNE  r.  DIBBLEE,  and  Others,  where  the  plaintiff 
brought  an  action  for  libel  in  a  newspaper  in  which  it  had  been  said 
that  MASKELYNE  was  "  accustomed  to  deceiving  the  public,"  or 
words  to  that  effect.  "  But,"  quoth  my  Lord  Chief  of  Killowen, 
"  Mr.  MASKELYNE  always  is  deceiving  the  public."  Well,  that 's 
true,  of  course,  but  then  the  public  knows  it  is  being  deceived.  So 
the  action  failed.  Now,  Sir,  in  consequence  of  the  dictum  of 
my  Lord  Chief,  may  any  one  write  any  thing  he  likes  about 
Mr.  MASKELYNE  being  "  a  gay  deceiver  "  ?  May  it  be  said  that 
"Men  were  deceivers  ever,  but  at  the  Egyptian  Hall,"  &c.,  Ac. 
In  fact,  is  a  professional  conjurer,  henceforth,  "  a  chartered 
libertine,"  with  permission  to  "take  any  one  in  and  do  for  him  " 
at  the  victim's  expense  ?  Yours,  A  PUZZLED  CONJURER. 

THIS  COMES  HOPE-ING. — The  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  at  a  re- 
markably pleasant  meeting  of  his  clergy,  mentioned  that  he  had 
received  a  cheering  letter  from  the  "Rector  of  Hope."  What  a 
delightful  title  1  His  people  all  live  in  Hope,  and  he  himself, 
being  devoted  to  his  parishioners,  must  be  full  of  Hope  that  he 
will  ultimately  arrive  at  a  Bishopric.  His  letter  to  his  Bishop 
was  quite  in  keeping  with  the  "  flattering  tale  "  that  Hope  is 
supposed  to  tell.  And  this  Hope  was  not  disappointed. 

ADVERTISER  having  no  further  use  for  his  bottle  and  coral, 
wishes  to  exchange  for  a  revolver.  Would  also  swop  perambu- 
lator for  a  jemmy  and  skeleton  keys. — "  Captain,"  Clerkenwell 
Gang,  B.C. 


In,  KMUKH  25,  1897.] 


IM'XCH,    oil   THK 


i  -|  |  \  |;|V  \  III. 


209 


A  CHRISTMAS  GREETING  TO  THE  INDIAN 
FRONTIER  TROOPS. 

TMKKK  have  been  great  Wars  and  War", 

Fighting  and  fighting  amain. 
Dead  and  wounded  with  terrible  scars 

\-iin  and  again  and  again  ! 
For  ever  and  ever  it  must  be  SO, 

Till  the  Time  of  Perfect  Peace, 
When  the  Kver-perpetual  Human  Woe 

Is  ended  and  battles  cease  I 

There  have  been  great  Wars  and  Wars, 

Wars,  when  our  rank.s  were  thin. 
Wars,  when  wo  fought  against  the  Stars, 

But  never  once  thought  "  Give  in !  " 
Wars,  when  we  had  on  every  hand 

A  foeman  to  join  in  the  fight 
With  the  Little  Isles,  where  stood  the  band 

To  combat  for  Freedom's  Right. 

There  have  been  great  Wars  and  Wars, 

With  the  strong  sweet  smell  of  the  Sea. 
Under  splintered  spars  when  our  dauntless 

tars 

Would  wrestle  for  victory ! 
When  they  strove  with  the  courage  that 

all  men  know 

Till  the  brine  with  their  blood  was  red, 
When  the  shattered  masts  and  the  broken 

foe 
Made  the  wave  receive  her  dead  I 

There  have  been  great  Wars  and  Wars, 

Upon  Ocean,  upon  Land, 
Contests  of  Neptune,  contests  of  Man, 

That  the  whole  wide  world  have  spanned ' 
But  better  has  ne'er  man  stood  by  man 

Than  the  men  of  every  hue 
That  guarded  the  gates  of  Hindostan 

'Neath  the  old  Red,  White  and  Bluel 
Westerns  and  Easterns,  though  all  so  few, 
Easterns    and    Westerns,    our    watchmen 

true, 

We  send  you  this  greeting,  We  're  proud  of 
you! 

AT  A  CHILDREN'S  PARTY. 

ON  THE  STAIRS. 

Denis  (aged  nine,  io  IDA,  aged  eight). 
But  you  're  not  going  to  marry  JOCK,  IDA  ? 
You  asked  TM  to  marry  you  once  I 

Ida.  Yes  :  but  you  said  not  till  you  were 
out  of  knickerbockers,  you  know,  and  I 
couldn't  wait  all  that  time  1 

Denis.  But  you  don't  really  love  JOCK, 
do  vou,  TT>A? 

Ida.  Yes,  I  do.  I  Ve  got  to,  now  we  "re 
going  to  be  married. 

T)fni*.  But  oupnose  JOCK  dies,  IDA — 
what  will  you  do  then  P 

Ida.  Oli  I  I  should  go  and  cry  orer  his 
grave  onoe  a  week. 

Denis.  I'd  let  you  garden  on  my  grave, 
Ida. 

Tummy  (to  WINNIE).  No;  T  don't  mean 
to  work  when  I  grow  up.  When  I  want 
any  money,  I  shall  just  go  to  the  dentist, 
and  have  a  tooth  out. 

Winnie.  But  how  will  that P 

Tnmmy.  Why,  don't  you  seef  I  shall 
get  half-a-crown  every  time  from  mother. 

Winnie.  But  won't  it  hurt  ? 

Tommy.  The  last  one  didn't  a  bit.  Be- 
sides. I  can  have  gas.  And  when  you  lose 
one  tooth,  another  comes,  vou  know;  and 
I 'VP  quite  a  lot  to  no  on  with. 

Winnie.  You'll  he  quite  rich! 

Tommii.  Well,  not  exactly  rirh,  but  I've 
calculated  it  out.  and  T  think  that,  by  the 
time  I  'm  a  man,  I  shall  have  enough,  with 
care,  to  keep  myself  in  tin  soldiers. 

Dorothy  QMUMMfv).  Poor    dear  father,       THB     MOST     ENJOYABLE    CHOREORAFHIC 
he  'a  very  good  and  kind,  and  all  that,  yon  I  DISPLAY  AT  CHRISTMAS. — The  Bairn  Dance. 


AND  YET  IT  WAS    ONLY  YESTERDAY  THAT  GRANDPAPA   WAS    COMPLAINING    TO  [HIS*  LITTLE 

GRANDSONS  THAT  HE  NBVEK  GOT  REAL  WINTERS  LIKE  HE  USED  TO  RAVE,  WITH  PLENTY  or 
SKATING  AND  SLIDING.    (N.B.— BUTTER-SLIDES  ARE  VERY  EFFECTIVE.) 


know — but  he  doesn't  seem  to  understand 
things  quite. 

Harold.  What  sort  of  things? 
Dorothy  (more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger). 
Well,  he  won't  let  me  keep  my  rabbits  in 
the  drawing-room  I 

[HAROLD  is  naturally  indignant  at 
this  instance  of  parental  narrow- 
mindedness. 


NOTE  BY  A  MISANTHROPIST. — How  most 
fools  spend  their  Christmas — giving  away 
money  to  undeserving  sycophants. 


Fished  for  It. 

Miss  Innocence  (to  Young  BIOGUBWADS). 
Do  you  believe  in  the  legend  of  the  mistle- 
toe bough? 

Young  BigyUswade  (seizing  the  oppor- 
tunity). The  mistletoe  boicf  No!  But  I 
do  in  the  mistletoe  salute  I 

[The  rest  is  lost  as  completely  as  vas  the 
unfortunate  bride  in  the  ballad. 

ANSWERS  TO  CORRESPONDENTS. — INJURED. 
— We  agree  with  you,  but  after  all,  your 
cook's  fault  is  a  venial  one ;  yet,  to  be 
served  with  a  hard-boiled  egg  three  days 
running  is  provoking.  Ask  what  police- 
man is  on  your  "  beat,"  and  consult  him. 


300 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[DECEMBER  25,  1897. 


THE    FESTIVE    SEASON. 

Visitor  to  the  District  (who  has  missed  his  ivay).   "CAN  YOU  TELL  ME,  MY  GOOD  MAN,  IF  I 

SHALL   PASS  THE    'RED   LlON  '    INN  ALONG  THIS   ROAD?" 

The   Village  Toper.  "Oi  WOULDN'T   LIKE   TO   BB   SAYINO  wur  A  GEN'LEMAN   LOIKE  YE 
WTD  BE  DOIN'  ;  BUT  Oi  'M  PARFECT  SARTIN  Oi  SHOULDN'-T!" 


SOME  CHRISTMAS  AYAITS. 

EVERYTHING  comes  to  him  who  waits, 
but  we  're  still  waiting,  and,  it  seems,  likely 
to  wait  for  :  — 

A  termination  of  the  Engineering  Dis- 
pute. 

A  satisfactory  solution  of  the  Cretan 
Question. 

Lord  ELOIN'S  private  views  on  Sir  HENRY 
FOWLER'S  famous  telegram. 

The  "general  idea"  of  the  Indian  Fron- 
tier Campaign  from  the  Afridis'  point  of 
view. 

Some  information  as  to  the  source 
whence  they  have  obtained  their  Lee- 
Metford  rifles  and  Dum-Dum  bullets. 

A  nineteenth-century  reason  for  Prince 
HENRY'S  recent  extraordinary  and  medi- 
spval  deification  of  "his  most  Serene 
Mighty  Beloved  Emperor,  most  powerful 
King,  Lord  and  Master,  and  Illustrious 
Brother"  at  Kiel,  in  announcing  his  deter- 
mination to  preach  abroad  " the  gospel  of 
his  Majesty's  consecrated  person." 

An  end  of  the  DREYFUS  accusations  and 
recriminations. 

Some  slight  return  for  JOHN  BULL'S 
reneated  overtures  of  friendship  and  good 
fellowship  to  Uncle  SAM,  and  a  final  settle- 
ment of  the  Seal-fisheries  Question. 

A  proper  Army  (in  point  of  numbers)  to 
give  weight  to  our  foreign  policy. 

A  system  of  illumination  and  purification 
of  the  London  Streets,  which  shall  be  at 
least  equal  to  that  of  the  second-class  Eu- 
ro^f-an  capitals. 

The  electric  omnibuses  that  were  pro- 
mised us  with  such  a  flourish  of  trumpets. 

A  reasonabl0  amount  of  fresh  air  in  the 
Underground  Railway. 

An  e'rtinction  of  the  paper-boys  who 
shout  "Winner!"  on  weekdnvs,  and  make 
Sunday  mornteg  hideous  with  their  out- 
cries. 

A  temporary  surcease  from  OMAR  KHAY- 
YAM. 

A  suspension  of  the  muzzling  order. 

An  elimination  of  professionalism  from 
football,  and  a  restoration  of  that  fame,  as 
well  as  cricket,  to  its  proper  position  as  a 
mere  pastime  and  recreation  to  be  played. 
and  not  to  be  eambled  on  by  purchasers  of 
halfpenny  papers 

A  newspaper  without  some  mention  of  or 
allusion  to  Klondvke. 

Some  news  of  ANDREE. 


ACCEPTABLE  CHRISTMAS  PRESENT  FOR  THE 
KAISER. — A  case  of  broken  China. 


How  not  to  spend  a  Happy  Christmas  Day ! 


A  PAIR  OF  "  NIPPERS." — A  coster's  twins. 


THE  INVASION  OF  THE  INFLUENZA. 

["There  is  little  doubt  that  London  is  again 
visited  by  a  return  of  influenza  in  a  milder  form.  ' 
— Daily  Paper.] 

OH  !  what  shall  I  do  ? 
Let 's  hope  it 's  not  true. 
The  doctors  cut  capers 
To  read  in  the  papers 

That  we  are  threatened  once  more  by  the 
"flu." 

Oh  !  would  I  could  fly 
To  some  sunny  sky — 
Mentone,  Minorca, 
Madeira,  Majorca, 
Venice,  or  Naples  in  fair  Italy. 

Then  oh  !  for  a  trip 
Aboard  of  a  ship. 
Now.  even  a  tyro 
Might  venture  to  Cairo  ; 
Had  I  the  chance  I  would  not  let  it  slip. 


Such  longings  are  vain, 
For  I  must  remain 
Still  working  in  London  ; 
But  I  shall  be  iwidone 
If  by  the  "  flu  "  I  'm  knocked  under  again. 


At  the  Fox  Club,  on    Christmas    Day! 
Banquet,  and  yet,  «o  Meet  to-day. 


Grand 


JANUAKT   1,  1898.] 


IM'NCII.    n|; 


.  '||  AKI\  A  Kl 


SOI 


SAUCE    FOR    THE    GANDER. 

Hector.   "\ow,  I  HOPE,  ADAM,  vor  WM.I    n:v  TO  TI 'i:v  "\  n:  \  NEW  LKAK  THIS  rojiiv; 
YKAK."  Adam.   "YnssiK,   1  'CUTS  so  TOO,  SIB.     SAME  TO  vor,  Sn:'" 


A  MODEST  DEMAND. 

I  DO  not  fondly  ask  from  you 

The  qualities  of  a  noble  heart, 
A  mind  whose  thoughts  ore  pure  and  true, 

A  tongue  that  speeds  no  venomed  d.u  t , 
A  temper  sweet,  or  gentle  mood, 

Unselfishness,  or  high  endeavour — 
I  do  not  ask  you  to  "  be  good, 

Sweet  maid  " — or  even  to  be  "  clever  " ! 

I  do  not  ask  for  poet's  song, 

For  dreamer's  tale,  high  gifts  of  mind, 
For  orator's  eloquence  righting  wrong — 

liilts  .-ill.  no  doubt,  to  you  a.ssigned ; 
I  do  not  ask  for  theories  new, 

One's  powers  of  comprehension  tasking, 
For  wisdom  or  for  wit  from  you — 

(There  would  not  be  muchuae  in  asking). 

I  do  not  ask  you  for  the  gift, 

All  other  gifts  so  far  above  ; 
I  will  be  brave,  and  make  a  shift 

To  live  my  life  without  your  love. 
Not  mine  to  play  a  lover's  part, 

So,  though  I  In'  omission  is  distressing, 
I  do  not  ask  you  for  your  heart 

1  only  .isk  ;i   minor  Iclessini'. 

I  du  not  :isk  you  when  we  ici>-ct 

Til  c  omle,reml   tic  notice   me, 
Hut,  when  kind  Kate  affords  that  treat, 

Pray,  boar  in  mind  this  modest  plea. 
I  do  not  iisk  .vim  to  sit  still 

Though     in     your     chair     you     always 

wriggle — 
I  'd  have  you  do  whate'er  you  will, 

I  only  ask  you — not  to  giggle! 


A  PERI  AT  T1IK  HATE. 

DEAR  MR.  PUNCH,-  Now  that  we  are 
fast  approaching  the  end  of  the  year,  I  am 
already  paving  1898  with  good  resolutions. 
Perhaps  for  the  benefit  of  some  of  your 
other  lady  readers  situated  as  I  am,  you 
will  like  to  know  some  of  them.  Well,  I 
have  resolved  :  — 

1 .  Not  to  snub  some  very  nice  young  men 

whom  I  have  hitherto  looked  upon  as  mere 

They    become    nun   in   time,    don't 

tlii  >-   just   as,  alas!   girls  (thank  goodness 

I  am  one  still  !>  become  tromrn. 

'2.  Not  to  be  rude  to  some  exceedingly 
polite  gentlemen  (ivry  murh  alder- than  I 
am)  whom  I  have  hitherto  looked  upon  as 
fogies,  and  individually  described,  I  regret 
to  say,  as  being  old  enough  to  be  my  father 
or  grandfather,  as  the  case  may  be. 

3.  Not   to   be   so  particular  as   to  the 
amount  of  an  admirer's  income.     After  all, 
a  ffic  hundreds   a   year  with   a  flat   or  a 
•  ••ittiitjr  often  supplies  more  real  haj-i 
th  in  thousands  and  a  htironinl  castlr     After 
>Vn   seasons,  one  begins  to  look  at 
matters  from  .1  -ciisjhle   point  of  view. 

I  \,il  tu  IH  t,.,,  in, ,u, I.  Ill  truth,  :i 
title  is  hut  a  small  leciimmeinlat  ion  In  the 
esteem,  .mil  I  111. iv  say,  hive,  cif  a  well- 
born damsel.  A  respectable  physician,  or 
an  educated  grocer,  or  a  capable  curate,  j, 
i'n/fni'iV/1/  ;  to  a  dissolut'  l>'ik",  .c 

rampant    Viscount,   or  a  horse-racing  Ba- 
ronet.    And  the  Free  Trade  in  Am> 
heiresses  should  not  be  forgotten,  though 
I  am  in  favour  of  a  strong   Matrimonial 


'  -IT  iff  f,,r  n\ir 

might    mention   thi-   to  t  .•  :ior  of 

tin-   K' 

•  'nl  /iijr/yi.  Not  to  go  in  no  rinn-b  for 
fashionable  gowns,   haU,    .•  .-oh 

served   th 
baa  a  '•!        ! 

in/   li.-tni.en  a  Hot- 
Wit  h    nil    good    wishe.    •  n<l    m 
'        I'unrh, 

los 


Mil     \l  VIIMN    I  UK   \IAIIM  K  II  \  I 

i-lut  ntlrnihnr  Ihr 


niaiinrnirrni{ur«i  il  l.i  ill  •  M«ii4.'.-ni<  nl  to 
ItVirhu-  •  .i-i.nimr.) 

•eat  re  a  merry  maid  ut, 

ci|C  a  iiiarvellini.  nwtmee  hat. 
The  people  behind  murmured  »nd  inut 

III. 

1  will  not  repent  the  language  uttered, 
Two*  montly  a  maaculine  form  of  "  drat." 

r-  and  flow'rs  of  a  wonderful  hue 
To  a  monsi  hat    there 

Mr. 
The  people  behind  were  wild  with  pajwion, 

IM  hat  of  lateA  fa*hmn, 
Complainintc  that    it    quite   obncuml  th«-ir 


When  in  her  programme  this  merry  maid 

r.  i.l 
A  special  request  to  ladies,  which  said 

behind  would  most  grateful 


,  n  .  i , 
TI,.-   |. 


el 
If  those  in  the  front  would  heed 

She  quickly   removed  that   hat   from   her 
head. 

In  a  theatre  a  manager's  tact 

Proved  he  could  manage  an  well  a*  could 

act. 

The  people  behind  no  longer  vainly 
Strove    behind    feathers    to    •*•    more 

plainly  ; 
And  gratefully  they  acknowledged  the  fact. 


FROM  OCR  OWN  IRRBFKMIIBUI  O.vx  (pre- 
mablv  at  large*.  Q.  What  is  the  differ- 
ence between  a  pantomime  and  an  oyster? 
A.  The  opening  of  the  one  is  the  better 
part  of  the  show,  the  opening  of  the  other 
the  worse. 


Following  Sod. 


.    K.    I).-  The  report    of  th-     c 
-.inner    .'I    Metnc|Militan    I'oli.  .    -hmv 
.ondiuiers  in   l-:«i  »-ere  i tu  us,-  the  words 
tf    a     contemporary)     "  I-  /ens." 

Mi.    /'iin.'A    ventures  to  SUggWit    thut   this 
'•\a  re«ult   may  also  be  attributed  (•. 
he  member,  of  the  Force  having  become 
In   fact  the  two  P'a, 
Police  and  Public,  hare  learnt  to  mind  one 
another's  Q's. 


VOL.    CXIU. 


P  0 


3C2 


PUNCH,   OR   THE    LONDON   CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  1,  1898. 


NEW    YEAR'S    GIFT    FOR    "TOMMY." 

Lord  Lansdnwnc  (to  Private  Atkins).   "Ir  I  GIVE  YOU  A  SHILLING  A  DAT  CLF.AR,  I  TRUST  YOU  WON'T  WASTE  IT  IN  RIOTOUS  LIVING!' 


JANBAKT  1,  1898.] 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


303 


BITS  OF  OLD  CHINA. 

(Latent  Despatches.) 

Sic it^rland.— The  Russian,  Gnnum,  and 
Hriti.sh  Governments  having  armngfd  lo 
occupy  Chinese  territory,  the  Sw  is-,  Govern- 
ment will  send  "  something  like  a  fleet " 
to  await  developments. 

Monaco. —  The  recent  events  in  China 
have  caused  great  concern  in  this  Princi- 
pality, and  a  private  with  fifteen  generals 
of  the  army  are  expected  to  leave  imme- 
diately, 

Kovmania. — To  protect  the  national 
interests,  a  fleet  consisting  of  a  tug  and 
two  lifeboats  will  sail  for  Hang-Wang  with 
the  consent  of  the  Chinese  Government. 

Luxembourg. — To  adjust  the  balance  of 
power,  an  army  corps,  consisting  of  one 
gun  and  a  bombardier  to  fire  it  off,  will 
practise  on  Twelfth  Night. 

Cannibal  Islands.— The  king  proposes  to 
send  a  force  of  five  cooks  and  a  soup-tureen 
tj  be  ready  for  emergencies. 

85,  Fket  Street. — In  spite  of  interna- 
tional complications,  Mr.  I'unch  will  con- 
tinue to  occupy  the  attention  of  everybody 
everywhere  during  1898. 


The   Mild  Weather. 

Cruel  Schoolboy  (In  unfortunate  Iron- 
monger, loaded  up  u-ith  skates).  Have  you 
got  any  good  skates  P 

lioiiinonger  (eagerly).  Yes,  Sir,  hundreds 
of  pairs. 

C.  S.  (edging  fo  door).  Then  fit  out  an 
expedition  to  the  North  Pole.  They  tell 
m.'  (lie  ice  there  is  in  prime  condition  I 

[Dodges  the  discharge  of  a  tin  kettle,  and 
escapes  in  triumph. 

MOTTO  OF  THE  IMPECUNIOUS  RENEGADE. 
— The  best  of  all  friends.  The  friends  who 
part. 


Uuthbcrt  (who  Idas  coming  downstairs  u-ith  a  biscuit  in  his  hand,  has  come  a  terrific  cropper). 

DOODXE.S.S  !  BUTTER  SIDE  UP!" 


A  BACHELOR  UNCLE'S  DIARY. 
TAUT  1.        .4 

JUST  received  this  letter  from  my  nephew 
MAX,  at  school :  — 

DEAR  UNCLE  CHARLES,— Me  and  TOMMY 
want  you  to  let  us  spend  the  first  week  of 
our  Crismas  vac.  at  your  place  we  may. 
may'dnt  we  you  know  the  govner  and 
mater  have  gorn  to  Beerits  and  want  us 
ther  too  we  went  last  year  and  it  was 
rot,  I  can  tell  you,  thers  nuthing  to  doo 
not  for  a  boy,  you  know  but  you  have  to 
wash  your  face  about  6  times  a  day,  and 
wear  all  your  best  close  that  are  beesely 
stiff  you  know,  and  take  off  your  hat  to 
every  ass  you  meet,  well  thats  not  mutch 
fun  is  it  and  BANKS  Minor  ses  the  Riwy- 
earers  just  the  same.  Thers  no  ratting  nor 
football  nor  skaiteng  oh  its  beesely.  What 
they  I  mean  the  Pater  and  Mater  go  for, 
licks  me.  He  thinks  hes  dellykitt  or  some 
rot  like  that.  Ime  not  dellykitt,  mores 
TOMMY — though  TOMMY  's  rather  an  ass — 
and  wen  I  got  a  cough  last  half,  and  you 
sent  me  that  ten  bob  I  spent  half  of  it  in 
cough  lossenges  and  got  so  beesely  ill  over 
them  that  I  forgot  all  about  the  cough 
itself,  thats  the  thing  to  doo  wen  your 
dellykitt.  As  you  are  a  batchylor  esta- 
blitchment  I  spose  it  wont  matter  a  bit 
our  coming  to  stay,  will  it  we  break  up 
next  Thursday  so  just  write  and  say  we 
may  come  thers  a  trump,  of  course  we 
didn't  like  to  come  with-out  being  invyted. 
Cant  we  have  a  go  with  your  hounds  you 
could  get  us  ponys  or  to  save  xpense  to 


you,  we  would  ride  your  hunters  if  you 
liked,  weel  do  ether  thats  agreebul  to  you 
of  coarse.  Ime  writing  this  in  Smeary-un 
darkness  so  xcuse  writing. 

I  am  your  affect.  Nephew 

MAX. 

p.S. — if  we  stay  furst  week  of  vac.  with 
you  we  can  cut  Beerits  altogether  becos 
after  that  we  go  to  stay  at  Aunt  LUCY'S 
ony  she  cant  stand  us,  have  us  I  mean,  till 
then — I  mean  till  we  go  to  stay  there — at 
least — oh  you  know  what  I  mean  ony  I 
never  could  xplane  those  sort  of  things, 
you  know. 

As  quiet  bachelor  of  forty,  with,  I  flatter 
myself,  very  correct  little  establishment 
and  good  stable  of  hunters,  as  befits  a 
Master  of  Staghpunds,  cannot  help  looking 
at  this  epistle  with  certain  amount  of  sus- 
picion. MAX  and  TOMMY  would  be;  as  Lord 
DUNDREARY  said,  "  the  nicest  children  in 

the  world,  if  they  weren't  the  d dest 

little  nuisances  ever  seen."  Like  MAX  and 
TOMMY,  but  like  them  best  at  school. 
Don't  know  why  MAX  should  call  me  an 
establishment.  Something  very  grand  and 
stately  in  the  impudence  of  their  offer  to 
ride  my  hunters.  Butcher's  pony  distinctly 
a  more  likely  mount  for  them.  Suppose  1 
must  have  them  here,  but  what  about  my 
excellent  housekeeper.  Mrs.  BOUXCSBY  ? 
Must  break  news  gently  to  that  good  wo- 
man. Mrs.  B.  sniffs  till  her  spectacles  fall 
off,  and  supposes  she  must  "  put  them  into 
the  Pink  room."  Say  she  can  put  them  on 
the  tiles,  if  she  likes.  Mrs.  B.  retires 
muttering  something  about  not  liking  her 


arrangements  "  put  put."  Retreat  to  my 
study  to  answer  indignant  farmer's  claim 
for  poultry  damage.  Is  evidently  under 
impression  that  deer  eat  chickens. 

Thursday. —  Drive  to  station  to  meet 
nephews.  Train  lat«.  No  boys.  Porter 
hands  me  telegram  :  "  So  sorry  missed  train 
it  don't  matter  as  there's  another  in  two 
hours  please  wait  at  station."  Drive  home 
in  disgust.  Return  for  next  train.  This 
also  late.  Sudden  rush  of —  Horror! 

three      boys!        Why ?       What ? 

How P      When ?      "Oh!    it's    all 

right,  Uncle  CHARLEY,"  says  MAX.  "  you  're 
such  a  good  chap  I  knew  you  wouldn't  mind, 
so  I  've  brought  BOOTS.  That  ain't  his  name 
really,  but  his  own,  BBTTBRINOTON ,  is  too 
long.  He  won't  take  up  any  room,  and  he 
doiTt  eat  much.  You  see.  he's  my  great 
chum,  and  so  I  brought  him,  you  know. 
You'll  like  him."  Feel  uncertain  of  this. 
And  what  about  Mrs.  B.  P  Boors  not  pre- 
possessing ;  freckled  face  and  flat  nostrils. 
"Yes,"  says  MAX,  "jolly  ugly,  ain't  he? 
Nose  looks  as  if  it  had  been  put  on  hot, 
and  spread  all  over  his  face ! "  Rude  little 
wreten !  The  graceless  trio  climb  up  into 
cart,  TOMMY'S  shoes  scratching  panel  in 
excruciating  manner.  Just  see  piles  of 
boxes  pouring  into  my  station  cart,  and 
then  drive  off  home. 


Q.  Why  should  the  habitual  criminal  be 
devoid  of  cowardice  ? 

A.  Because  he  has  the  courage  of  his 
convictions. 


304 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  1,  1898. 


SPORTIVE  SONGS. 

tic  Bachelor,  jilted  by  ln,i  Cousin,  refuses 
in  somewhat  bitter  terms  to  dine  with  her  and 
hi'r  husband  on  A<  Id  Ynn-'s  Day. 

I  DO  not  care  for  Christmas  fare, 

The  Turkey  has  no  charm  for  me  ; 
The  Goose  a  monster  I  declare, 

Fat  Beef  a  dreadful  dish  to  see. 
No  stolid  Pudding  suits  my  taste, 

I  do  not  love  this  cannon-ball 
Of  suet,  plums,  and  pseudo  paste, 

That 's  welcomed  in  the  servants'  hall ! 

I  will  not  eat  the  false  Mince-pie, 

Suggesting  all  dyspeptic  ills ; 
The  Tipsy-cake  I  will  not  try, 

Tis  redolent  of  after  pills ! 
As  to  the  oysters  that  are  brought 

The  jaded  appetite  to  whet, 
Experience  is  dearly  bought, 

And  typhoid  I  don't  want  to  get ! 

The  wine  with  which  the  guests  are  plied 

Is  fresh  as  flowers  after  rain  ; 
The  vinous  juice  is  oft  denied 

To  what  you  're  pleased  to  call  Cham- 
pagne ! 
The  Port  knows  no  ancestral  bins, 

But  came  in — yesterday,  may  be  ; 
And  Sherry  causes  mental  sins 

When  bottled — say,  at  one  and  three! 

No!  no  !  fair  coz,  I  must  refuse 

Your  offer  for  this  New  Year's  Day, 
Let  me  my  humble  banquet  choose, 

And  for  your  happiness  still  pray  ! 
The  time  is  now  for  ever  gone 

When  I  was  fool  and  you  were  cruel ; 
But  credit  me,  although  alone, 

/  'II  drink  your  health  in  water-gruel ! 


'INTS    ON    'UNTING,    BY    'ARRY. 

IF  YOU  GIVE  A  LEAD  TO  A  LADY,  TRY  TO  TAKE  YOUR  HORSE  WITH  YOU. 


A  Rotatory  Explanation. 

First  Loafer  (inspecting  a  hoarding,  to 
Second  Ditto).  I  say,  BILL,  wot's  a  Cycle 
of  Song  ? 

Second  Ditto.  Don't  yer  know?  Why, 
it 's  one  of  them  new-fangled  bikes,  wot 
plays  a  toon  as  yer  roll  along,  jest  like  a 
barrel-horgan. 


WILLIAM    TEBBISS. 
BORN,  FEBRUARY,  1848.     DIED,  DECEMBER,  1897. 

"  SHADOWS  we  are,  and  shadows  we  pursue." 
That  was  the  motto  dearest  far  to  you ! 
Old  friend  and  comrade,  having  grasped  my  hand, 
I  mourn  you  lost  to  me  in  Shadow  Land. 

Brave  Sailor  Lad  !  and  best  of  "  pals  "  on  earth, 
Whose  triumph  at  your  death,  proclaimed  your  worth, 
They  bore  you  down  an  avenue  of  woe, 
Where  men  and  women  sobbed,  "  We  loved  him  so !  " 

Why  did  they  love  him  ?    The  assassin's  knife, 
With  one  fell  blow,  mangled  a  loyal  life. 
They  loved  him  for  his  honour !     Splendid  Will ! 
That  made  a  hero  of  our  "  Breezy  BILL  ! " 

"ALAS!  POOR  YORICK!" 

POOR  TERRISS!  Gay.  gallant,  honest,  manly!  A  hero  of  the 
Drama,  every  inch  of  him !  In  his  own  peculiar  line  the  most 
popular  actor  of  the  present  day,  whom  it  is  indeed  most  diffi- 
cult to  replace.  That  in  private  life  he  was  generous  and 
kindly,  nay,  even  kind  to  a  fault,  is  proved,  over  and  over 
again,  by  those  who  knew  him  well.  He  seemed  to  have 
learned  the  secret  of  perpetual  youth,  and,  when  as  William 
he  quite  recently  astonished  us  all  with  his  nimbly-danced 
hornpipe,  those  youngsters  who  then  saw  him  for  the  first 
time,  put  him  down  as  one  about  their  own  age,  say  between 
seventeen  and  twenty-five.  He  could  touch  hearts,  too,  and  set 
an  audience  a-weeping,  while  he  himself,  we  fancy,  was  seldom 


unmoved  by  the  pathos  of  the  situation.  If  it  be  npt  out  of 
place  here  to  play  on  words,  may  we  not  say  that  we  miss  a  "  Sara 
avis  in  Terriss"?  Light  lie  the  earth  upon  thee,  WILLIAM 
TERRISS!  Able  actor!  honest,  kind-hearted  man! 


A  PEBTTY  PASS. 

SCENE — Hace  of  Entertainment.     Modern  Magician  discovered  perform- 
ing an  admirable  sleight  of  hand. 

Modern  Magician.  You  believe  I  am  deceiving  you  ? 

One  of  the  Audience  (earnestly).  Indeed,  I  think  nothing  of 
the  kind. 

M.  M.  But  you  know  some  people  believe  I  am  always  cheat- 
ing their  senses. 

One  of  the  A.  But  not  I.  Pray  understand  I  believe  you  to 
be  the  soul  of  honour. 

M.  M.  But  did  you  really  believe  that  I  actually  swallowed 
that  bird-cage  and  its  contents  ? 

One  of  the  A.  Most  certainly.  I  would  not  doubt  your  word 
for  worlds. 

M .  M.  But  surely  you  must  be  very  simple  ? 

One  of  the  A.  Not  at  all.  I  desire  to  place  on  record  my  em- 
phatic opinion  of  your  honesty.  I  repudiate  the  suggestion  that 
you  wish  me  or  any  one  to  think  you  have  behaved  other  than  in 
the  customary  manner. 

M.  M.  But  this  is  not  the  customary  answer. 

One  of  the  A.  Perhaps  not :  but  then,  you  see,  I  wish  to  avoid 
the  terrors  of  litigation. 

M.  M.  Then  you  do  not  make  these  answers  of  your  free  will  ? 

One  of  the  A.  Oh,  yes,  I  do,  but  of  course  they  are  prompted 
by  my  solicitor.  [Curtain. 


JANUARY   1,   1898.J 


..'11,   OR   THE    LONDON    fllAIMY 


•." 


NEW   YEAR'S   EVK. 
NEXT  year  I  will  reform— I  really  will, 

This  time,  at  least,  my  purpose  is  sincere, 
Unwonted  virtues  my  new  lenf  shall  fill 

Next  year. 

My  rule  of  life  henceforth  ahull  bo  austere, 
I  "II  give  up  butting,  pay  my  tailor's  bill, 
Shun  "  Special  Scotch  "  and  stick  to  harmless  beer. 
Hut  to  the  old  year  first  om-  I>MMI|»T  still  1 — 
\\hat,  midnight  past  >  ami  '!»8  now  here? 
Then  1  must  shelve  my  reformation  till 
Next  year. 


OUR  BOOKl\(J-OJTK'K. 

IT  is  not  from  any  authentic  record,  but  WALTER  CHASE  has 
a  dainty  fancy  that  Cinderella,  must  have  had  a  volume  to  enjoy 
by  the  lire,  so  \n-  re-issues  three  fairy-tales  as  Cinderella'* 
1'icture  Book  (Jon.N  LANK,  The  Uodley  Headi,  ,mr  itury  being 
that  of  Cindrrrlla  herself,  which  no  doubt  she  will  enjoy  immensely, 
I  '<i/,  iitini'  unit  Or*,, i.  Puss  in  Hoots,  and  Cuidrrrllii.  She  must 
have  read  her  own  biography,  only  without  the  cleverly-inspired 
illustrations  that  adorn  these  pages. 

J.a  I  if  ile  Londres,  cotes  riant*,  par  MAKS  (PLON-NOUBKIT  KI 
( 'i  K  . ,  1'aris) .  During  the  last  few  years  we  have  been  trying  by  the 
aid  of  powerful  glasses  and  still  more  powerful  imagination,  to  see 
what  Mars  was  doing.  And  now  Mars  himself  lets  us  know  he  was 
in  London,  sketching  us  all ;  and  only  "  an  eye  like  Man  "  could 
see  us,  and  he  bus  drawn  us.  My  iiiiroiutess  remarks  that  he 
hasn't  "mastered  the  English  ladies."  How  should  he!  As  a 
Frenchman  he  is  far  too  polite  for  thut.  But  glance  at  his 
other  book,  La,  Tie  d'Ostende  (Ed.  LYON-CLAJSSBN,  Bruxelles). 
There  he  is  tres  b'nn  </»;  lu-i!  Evidently  life  is  gay  and  nauti-cal 
by  those  merry  sea-waves,  wherein  the  frivolous  baigneutet  dis- 
port themselves.  They  are  just  a  tout  inlil  j»'u  alimkiiKj .' 

In  The  Mills  of  God  (.SMITH,  ELUKK),  Air.  FRANCIS  HAKDV 
grinds  exceeding  well.  There  is,  my  Baronite  tells  me,  a 
breezy  freshness  in  the  book,  alike  in  respect  of  people  and  sur- 
roundings. Ma  Kate  is  a  touching  picture  of  the  much-enduring 
wife  and  the  fond  mother,  endurance  reaching  the  snapping 
point  when  the  church-going  but  in  other  respects  not  at  all 
estimable  father,  feels  out  for  his  stick  as  substitute  for  the 
fatted  calf  wherewith  to  hail  the  prodigal's  return.  Then  the 
little  mother  blazes  forth,  and  the  household  drudge  momentarily 
assumes  the  mastership.  Sketched  in  by  the  way,  but  full  of 
life,  humour,  and  phdosophy,  is  the  tramp,  Bob  Murphy,  whose 
brief  but  sufficient  tragedy  is  told  in  a  vivid  chapter. 

DOLF  \\  VI.I.AKIIK  has  done  for  girlhood  what,  some  years  ago, 
Mrs.  HooodON  BuKNBTT  did  for  boyhood.  -1  Lonely  l.ittii 
Lady  (HUTCHINSON)  is  a  miniature  worthy  to  be  framed  in  the 
lame  panel  as  Little  Lord  Fauntleroy.  Of  the  two,  obviously 
because  Brownie  is  a  girl,  my  Baronite  ranks  DOLF  \>  TLLARDB'H 
work  as  the  daintier.  IDA  LOVEUINO'S  illustrations  are  charming. 

In  His  Grace  of  Osmonde  (F.  WARNE  &  Co.),  Mrs.  HODGSON 
BURNETT  has  written  the  sequel  to  A  Lady  of  Quality,  or  rather 
not  so  much  a  sequel,  as  it  is  a  completion  of  the  earlier  work. 
Now,  the  Baron  not  having  hint  the  pleasure  of  making  the  ac- 
quaintance of  A  Lady  of  Quality,  he  found  the  story  of  His 
Grace  somewhat  puzzling,  nor  could  he  comprehend  where  the 
villain  was  killed,  why  he  was  killed,  nor  whose  hand  struck  the 
blow.  An  intelligent  friend,  who  had  read  A  Lad]/  of  Quality, 
kindly  supplied  what  was  lacking  to  his  enjoyment  of  His  Grace 
of  Osmonde.  But  why  did  Mrs.  HODGSON  BURNBTT  compel  the 
Baron  to  have  recourse  to  a  friend  in  order  to  understand  her 
story  ?  The  first  novel  should  have  contained  the  whole  and  entire 
story,  as  certainly  a  reader  who  is  not  acquainted  with  A  Lady 
of  Quality  will  only  waste  his  time  and  temper  over  His  Grace ; 
while  whoever  knows  the  story  of  the  aforesaid  Lady  of  Quality 
will  also  lose  time,  and  more  temper,  in  reading  II  is  G-raet  of 
Osmonde.  As  the  Lady's  sister,  named  Anne,  plays  no  incon- 
siderable part  in  the  drama  of  the  two  lives,  the  title  might 
have  been  Sister  Anne;  or,  Is  Anyone  Coming f  and  though  tis 
true  there  is  no  Blue  Beard,  yet  the  question  might  have  been  fre- 
quently asked,  when  the  villain,  having  been  knocked  on  the 
head  in  the  first  story,  which  the  Baron  hasn't  read,  the  two 
young  women  hid  the  body  under  a  settee,  preparatory  to 
carrying  him  into  a  cellar,  there  to  be  wall<;d-up  by  a  country 
bricklayer.  "  Go  pop  j  nor  Sir  THOMAS  again  in  the  pond " 
though  of  course  this  situation  could  not  very  well  have  been 
repeated  in  the  second  ii"vel  (it  wasn't  a  pond,  or  a  well,  but  a 
hole  in  the  wall),  and  so  Hie  Baron  missed  the  entire  point.  One 
volume  would  have  sufficed  for  both  stories,  to  have  been  entitled 
as  aforesaid.  THE  BARON  DB  B.-W. 


First  Reprobate.  "  WELL,  OLU  MAN,  DID  rut  GET  HOME  ALL  BIOBT 

LAST   NIGHT  t  " 

Second  Reprobate.   "YE*;   BIT  MY  WIFE  WOULDN'T  SPEAK  10  MB." 
First  Reprobate.   "  LvcKV  BEOOAH  .'  " 


THE  VEGETABIAN   DIN  NEB. 
(by  an  Sntltuiiatt.) 

IF  you  wish  to  keep  alive,  and  you  're  anxious  for  to  strive, 

You  have  only  to  become  a  vegetarian. 
On  vegetable  diet,  'if  you  've  the  pluck  to  try  it, 

You  will  live  until  you  die  u  centenarian. 
With  a  Cotelette  de  chmif  or  a  cauliflower  stew 

You  can  feast,  but  you  will  not  feel  satiat.   I 
An. I  to  give  the  thing  a  tone,  try  a  pint  of  /.«• 

Or  of  any  other  dnnk  that '»  aerated. 

There's  peas  and  beans,  potatoen. 

Now  from  the  bill  I  quote, 
1 1  you  're  a  man  of  slender  means 

Dim-  at  our  tnltli'  d'hiitr. 
The  price  is  small,  for  one  and  all, 

«vll  within  their  reach  . 
Soup,  joint,  aii'l  swevt,  with  nenrice  neat, 

For  only  sixpence  each. 

If  von  try  a  carrot-chop  I  am  sure  you  will  not  stop, 

For  a    rY'.f   BortUot*    vm'll  find   -urpn - 
I  scarcely  need  repeat  that  it  isn't  mad<. 

But  in  Kronch  the  m- j.,/  sounds  more  appetising; 
'Tis  an  artful  plan,  in  fact,  which  i*  certain  to  attract 

An  appetite  which  flesh  has  rendered  jaded. 
Come  and  try  our  bill  of  fare,  and  I  'm  certain  you  will  two 

Eternal  thanks  for  baring  been  persuaded. 


306 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  1,   1898. 


Old  Lad  it.  "THE  FACT  is,  YOU  DON'T  KNOW  YOUR  WAY,  AND,  WHAT'S  MORE,  I  BELIEVE 
YOU'VE  BEEN  DRINKING!" 

Cabby.  "OH,  'ow  CAN  YOU  THINK  OF  SICH  A  THING!    O.v  Boxiva  DAY,  TOO! 


STILL   ABROAD.  ! 

Vienna. —  Such  a  place  for  Museums! 
They  are  everywhere.  There  is  even  one 
in  the  Bourse.  Perhaps  it  contains  por- 
traits of  company-promoters,  a  sort  of 
financial  Chamber  of  Horrors.  Goodness 
knows !  W7hen  you  have  seen  the  wonder- 
ful art  collections,  and  some  of  the  pretty 
faces  of  the  Viennese  women,  and  the  in- 
side of  the  cathedral,  and  some  more  pretty 
faces,  and  a  few  plays  at  the  theatres,  you 
have  seen  everything  worth  seeing,  and 
you  had  better  begin  looking  at  the  pretty 
faces  again.  Unless  your  tastes  are  pecu- 
liar, and  you  admire  streets  like  Northum- 
berland Avenue,  or  are  fond  of  bad  pave- 
ments and  miserable  trees,  or  of  eating. 
If  you  are  fond  of  eating,  you  have  a 
grand  chance.  In  a  Viennese  hotel  it  goes 
on  all  day,  each  visitor  keeping  to  his 
national  hours. 

The  earliest  birds,  from  Germany  usu- 
ally, begin  breakfast  about  seven,  other 
early  birds,  English  perhaps,  follow  them, 
then  Austnans  have  coffee,  and  lazier  Eng- 
lish and  Americans  go  on  with  more  sub- 
stantial breakfasts,  while  the  Germans  have 


a  light  lunch,  till  the  French  and  Italians 
begin  dejeuner,  and  while  these  are  finish- 
ing, with  liqueurs  and  cigars,  the  first 
Germans  drop  in  to  dine,  and  the  English 
lunches  and  the  Austrian  dinners,  with  the 
Austrian  liqueurs  and  cigars,  keep  it  up  till 
the  afternoon  tea  for  the  English,  or  coffee 
for  the  Germans,  who  finish  just  as  the 
French  begin  dinner  at  half-past  five,  in 
time  to  go  to  the  theatre,  and  while  they 
are  dining  the  Germans  have  another  light 
meal,  and  when  they  all  start  for  the 
theatre,  the  English  and  Americans  are 
beginning  dinner,  which  is  followed  by  the 
suppers  of  the  Austrians  who  have  not 
gone  to  the  theatre,  and  after  these  come 
the  suppers  of  those  who  have,  and  the 
final,  fifth  or  sixth,  meal  of  the  Germans, 
prolonged  by  beer  and  more  cigars  till  one 
in  the  morning.  It  is  kolossal! 

So  good-bye  to  Vienna,  and  the  pretty 
faces  and  pretty  dresses,  and  the  courteous 
Austrians,  and  the  endless  tips.  One  last 
ride  in  a  Fiaker,  full  speed  over  those 
awful  stones.  Cling  on  tightly.  No  bones 
broken.  Nothing  fallen  out.  Thank  good- 
ness !  Back  for  Christmas  in  Old  England  ! 
ROBINSON  THE  ROVER. 


THE  TEUTONIC  PLAGUE. 

[The  German  Beetle,  who  thrives  on  cheaper  fare 
than  his  British  equivalent,  and  reproduces  nimself 
with  astonishing  rapidity,  is  gradually  supplanting 
the  native  in  our  very  midst.  —  Daily  Paper.'] 

NOT  to  the  sound  of  Royal  lips  colliding, 
Not    to   the   crusted    smack    of    Kingly 

toasts, 

The  latest  Teuton  terror,  darkly  gliding, 
Descends  on  Britain's  coasts  ! 

Not  as  the  Chow-chow  squadron  takes  the 

ocean, 
With  cressets'  flare  and  roll  of  throbbing 

drums  ; 

In  silent  armaments  with  stealthy  motion 
The  German  Beetle  comes. 

A  cause  of  madness  in  our  kitchen  Maries, 

Their  vestal  hearth  he  rudely  violates  ; 
He  sidles  in  among  our  ancient  Lares, 
And  settles  on  our  grates. 

The  witching  hour  that  wakes  th«  wanton 

weevil 
Beholds  him   doing   that    which   is   not 

right  ; 

He  loves  the  dark  because  his  deeds  are  evil, 
He  loathes  the  blessed  light. 


Untempted    by     the     larder's    toothsome 

foison, 
For  which  your  pampered  British  Beetles 

go, 

I  He  battens  with  success  upon  the  poison 
Designed  to  lay  him  low. 

A  shrewd  ascetic,  he  derives  an  ample 

Inflation  from  the  coarsest  kind  of  food  ; 
He  is  a  precious  type,  a  proud  example 
Of  Teuton  hardihood. 

Colonial  —  less  by  taste  than  by  instruction 
Drawn  indirectly  from  his  cosmic  Chief  — 
His  facile  gift  of  rapid  reproduction 
Simply  transcends  belief  ! 

The  Native  who,  secure  in  his  position, 
Waxed  fat  and  kicked  upon  the  scullery 

floor, 

Now  feels  the  deadly  strain  of  competition 
He  never  felt  before  ! 

Less  gaily  from  behind  the  heated  boiler 
He  sallies  out  on  sinful  plunder  bent  ; 
The  presence  of  a  strange  imported  spoiler 
Mars  all  his  sweet  content. 

More  warily  he  quits  his  wainscot-hollow 

To  drink  the  oven's  enervating  airs, 
For  fear  the  foreigner  may  go  and  swallow 
His  wife  at  unawares. 

The  solemn  facts  are  proved  beyond  rebut- 

ting, 

Vainly  we  clutch  at  any  straw  of  doubt  ; 
The  German  article  is  slowly  cutting 
Our  local  talent  out  ! 

England  !  my  country  !  is  there  no  renewing 

Our  lost  pre-eminence  of  other  years  ? 

What  is  the  bellicose  bug-shooter  doing  ? 

Where  are  the  Volunteers  ? 


At  the  Home   of  Plenty. 

Mr.  Stopcock  (joyously,  foMr.  PLUMBER). 
Take  my  word  for  it,  this  is  going  to  be  a 
green  winter.  No  busted  pipes,  no  water 
turned  off,  no  nothing. 

Mr.  Plumber  (gloomily).  Ah  I  wot's  one 
man's  meat  is  truly  another's  pison.  I 
suppose  wery  soon  we  shall  be  treated  to  a 
Hindian  Summer  from  November  to 
March.  [Sighs  deeply. 


IMNCll,   Oil   Till.    LONDON   CHAUIVAI'.I  -JAKOAKT  1,  189H. 


TIME  THE   ALCHEMIST. 

"WONDEB  IF  I  SHALL  HAVE  BETTER  LUCK  WITH   THIS  EXI'KRIMEVT!." 


JANUAHV  1, 


iM.vii,  OK  THK  LONDON  CIIAIMVAIM. 


309 


FAINT    PRAISE. 


Little  Miss  Di.  "How  DO  YOU  LIKK  MY  NEW  PONY,  COUSIN  JACK?" 
Cou fin  Jack  (promoted  recently  to  something  more  than  a  pony).    "OH  ! 
HVNTAH,  DB'SAY  ! " 


PRETTY    WELL,     PRETTY    WELL.       DECBST    SORT    O'    CHILD'S 


At  I  hi-  Oculist's.     "  Suggcrtio  Falsi." 


A  NEW  YEAR'S  RESOLUTION. 

(By  one  who  has  given  them  up. ) 

I  'VB  hitherto  upheld  on  New  Year's  Eye 
One  of  our  cherished  annual  institutions, 

That   is,    as   each   December's    dying,   to 

retrieve 
One's  character  with  virtuous  resolutions. 

Ten  years  and  more  ago  there  were  a  lot 
Of  new  and  personal  reforms  I  'd  plan 

out, — 

Some  possible,  some — well,  distinctly  not 
(That  was  before  one 's  youthful  ardour 
ran  out). 

Let 's  see — I  meant  each  January  the  first 
To  get  up  early  and  to  knock  off  smoking, 


[ALPHONSE  DAUDET. 

^OBIIT  DECEMBER  16,  1897. 

GONE  the  gay  wit  that  sparkled  free 

With  airy  grace  and  breezy  ton, 
And  took  us  over  mount  and  sea 

With  Tartu rin  nf  Tarascpn  ; 
That  painted  .luck  in  touching  tone, 

And  Sdpln,  limned  with  master  hand  ; 
And  caused  the  life  beside  the  Rhone 

To  live  again  in  many  a  land  ! 
Farewell,  brave  spirit,  till  the  end 

Yon  battled  'gainst  the  sting  of  Death. 
On  you,  with  foelings  of  a  friend, 

\\ V  lay  this  little  English  wreath! 


The  "Block"  System. 


'  Porker  Verba." 


With  temp'rance  drinks  to  moderate  my 

thirst — 

The  prospect  was  by  no   means  mirth- 
provoking  1 

Enthusiasms  cool ;  within  three  days 
I  had  become  a  desperate  back-slider, 

Without  the  perseverance  that  i>ssa>> 
To  imitate  the  ant  or  plodding  spider. 

So  now  I  've  only  one  respire  to  make, 
And  that  I  "11  keep  without  remorse  or 

sorrow  ; 

That  is,  I  '11  have  no  idle  vows  to  break, 
By  framing  no  New  Year's  resolves  to- 
morrow. 


310 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


[JANUARY  1,  1898. 


^  n/»,,'UA/  H/tc  SiHe 


'OA, 
VC^  AR£  UOT  DON£  \r>\" 


VWV\^C'     ,;^ 
\THOyt 


REA3Y-1VUDE    COATS -OF-ARMS);    OR,    GIVING    'EM    FITS! 

MARIE,  COUNTESS  C-K-LLI. 

Arms :  Quarterly,  1st,  on  a  grou  id  sable  of  reserve,  invincible  to  the  last,  a  log  oroper  constitutionally 


under  a  bushel  proper  (of  plate-glass)  a  light  of  literature,  shining  in  reclame,  over  all,  on  an  escutcheon 
of  reticence,  a  trumpet  of  glory,  usually  blown  automatically,  but  quite  at  the  service  of  the  press,  gratis. 
Crest :  a  startled  fawn,  proper,  of  timidity,  seeking  shelter  urgent,  from  a  wreath  of  laurels  issuant  from 
the  suburbs.  Supporters  :  Dexter,  a  curate  habited  sable  proper,  and  guileless  to  the  verge  of  inanit) 
passant  in  perusal  proper  of  "  The  B  .therations  of  Beelzebub  "  ;  sinister,  a  cook-general  proper  guttee- 
de-larmes  palpitant  in  pathos  absorbent  the  "  Sorrers  o'  Syt'n."  Second  Motto :  "  If  I  am  forgotten,  it 
won't  be  MY  fault!" 


AT  A  CHILDREN'S  PARTY. 

Is  THE  DRAWING-ROOM  :  A  GAME  is  BEING 

ORGANISED. 

The  Mistress  of  the  Revels.  Well,  have 
you  all  chosen  what  animal  you're  going 
to  be  ?  What  are  you,  ETHEL  ?  A  tiger  ? 
Very  well.  And  you,  JOHNNY  ?  A  hyena  ? 
Capital !  And  HILDA  said  she  would  be  a 
hippopotamus,  didn't  she  f 

Hilda.  I  did  say  I  was  a  hippopotamus, 
hut  I  should  like  to  change  my  mind  to  a 
whale,  please. 

[She  is  indulged  in  this  modest  request. 

The  M.  B.  (addressing  a  small,  pallid 
boy  in  a  velvet  suit  and  a  state  of  after-tea 
torpor).  And  what  would  you  like  to  b.', 
my  little  man  ? 

The  Little  Man.  I  wouldn't  like  to  be 
anything. 

The  M.  B.  Oh!  but  that's  silly,  you 
know.  You  must  be  something.  Come,  be 
a  rhinoceros. 

The  Little  Man  (languidly).  No;  I 
don't  want  to  be  a  rhinoceros. 

The  M.  B.  Well  then,  will  you  be  a 
rabbit  P 

The  Little  Man  (with  undisguised  eon- 
tempt).  A  rabbit !  That  is  a  duffing  "  be  " ! 

The  M.  B.  Then  what  are  you  going  to 
be  ? 

The   Little   Man  (reduced   to  candour). 
I  believe  I  'm  going  to  be  sick,  presently. 
[He  is  promptly  removed. 


Pycroft  (aged  twelve,  finds  himself  next 
to  SHIRTLIFF,  "one  of  the  fellows  at  old 
WACKERBARTH'S,"  and  his  senior  by  a  month 
or  two  ;  is  not  sure  whether,  their  respective 
"  people  "  being  unacquainted,  he  is  entitled 
to  recognise  SHIRTLIFF,  but  decides  to  risk  a 
remark).  Hullo,  SHIRTLIFF  I 

Shirtliff  (slightly  scandalised  by  this  effu- 
siveness, but  not  prepared  to  discourage  it). 
Hullo,  PYCROFT  ! 

[A  silence,  during  which  both  examine 
their  shoes  with  interest. 

Pycroft   (anxious    to    dissociate    himself 
from  his  surroundings).  Rather  rot,  thi 
sort  of  thing. 

Shirtliff  (feeling  that  his  dignity  is  in 
danger).  Mistake  having  such  a  beastly  lot 
of  kids. 

Pycroft  (after  another  silence).  Whai 
have  you  been  doing  these  holidays  ? 

Shirtliff.  Oh!  I  don't  know— mucking 
about.  (Without  interest.)  What  have 
you? 

Fycroft.  Oh  !  I  've  been  mucking  about 
too. 

[They  part   with   a  mutual   sense   of 
having  risen  worthily  to  the  occasion 


FUNNY  PHYSICIAN. — Doctor  Merry  mat 
(to  patient,  who  is  suffering  severely  from 
too  much  Christmas  festivity) .  Come,  come 
there 's  nothing  seriously  wrong  here 
You  'II  tide  over  this. 


IN    MEMOKIAM. 
SIR  FRANK  LOCKWOOD,  Q.C.,  M.P. 

BJBN  1840.      DIED  lUc.  11),  1S97. 

''RANK  LOCKWOOD  dead !    Then  we  have  lost 

A  life  we  counted  more  than  dear  ; 
*Vhat  darker  shadow  could  have  crossed 
Our  Christmas  cheer  ? 

Juick  eye  to  read  the  heart  of  fun  ! 

Light  hand  to  catch  its  passing  spell ! 
Punch,  too,  has  claimed  the  work  of  one 
Who  loved  him  well. 

Jone  now  his  laughter's  lusty  note 

That  malice  never  once  could  mar ; 
The  genial  wit  that  gently  smote 
And  left  no  scar. 

•imall  mirth  enough  beguiles  our  way  ; 

By  sombre  paths  at  best  we  tread ; 
4nd  duller  seems  the  world  to-day 
With  LOCKWOOD  dead ! 


RATIONAL  STAINED-GLASS. 

:.\  (Design  for  a  Philanthropic  Institution.) , 

[Processor  Sir  W.  B.  RICHMOND  R.A.,  in  a  re- 
cent lecture,  protested  against  "  the  mawkish, 
effeminate,  weak  faces  so  often  pictured  in  stamed- 
gla«s  windows,"  and  suggested  that  they  should 
deal  with  prominent  personage*  and  subjects  of  the 
day.  Mr.  Punch  has  therefore  much  pleasure  in 
submitting  a  few  designs,  of  which  this  is  the  first, 
to  be  used,  without  charge,  in  the  decoration  of  both 
Houses  of  Parliament,  the  Law  Courts,  Guildhall, 
Mansion  House,  and  any  other  Public,Buildings.] 


JANUARY  1,  1«PK.] 


ITNCII.    OR   THE   LONDON    CHARI V A  l!l. 


311 


AstwL.Sedet,  95 

Abroad  in  the  Autumn,  145.  167,  180,  204, 

•-•us.  241  ..„   _ 

Acknowledgment  and  a  Mystery,  269 
Adelphi  Duke  (The),  142 
'•  .1  Jpi.-im  memento  rebus,"  tc.,  282}J 
After  the  Passage  is  over,  89 
After  the  Speeches  were  over,  292 
After  tiM  fpfthaid  Demonstration,  1 
Alphonn  Daudet,  309 
Among  the  RoaringFortles,  238,  244,  257 
Army  M;ui'i'iivrcs  ('I'lie),  130 

mplre  (The),  2 
At  a  Children's  Party,  209 
Auguste  en  Angleterre,  10,  13,  40,  52.  153 

»0,  109,  125 

Awkward  Miss  (An),  77 
BACHELOR  Uncle's  Diary  (A),  303 
Beans  for  Bacon,  183 
H.HMIV  of  Bisley  (The),  22 
Hid  I'm-  Freedom  (A),  90 
Hiker  Hiked  (The),  189 
Bitter  Cry  of  the  Esquires  (The),  231 
Boom  in  Oom  (The),  191 
Botanical  Boots,  105 
Bow  of  the  Anti-Logroller  (The),  81 
By- Elections,  168 

lly  the  Golden  Sands,  87,  54,  82,  86,  98 
CABBV'S  Complaint,  '-'4 
Calls  to  Arms,  '.>.v> 
Caretaker's  Vinlf  M-'eum  (The)   84 
"<Y;id  Mile   I':, ill,'  !"  78 

Celestial  lineman  (The),  114 

Channel  Chatter.  57 

Christmas  Greeting  to  the  Indian  Frontier 

Troops  (AX  299 
Christmas  Presents,  292 
Comedy  of  OulielmusCH>sarPotsdamicus 

267 

Come  from  the  Dogs  -a  Protest,  53 
Comln'  through  the  Romany  Rye,  227 
Common  objects  of  the  Sea-shore,  38 
Confessions,  46 

Confessions  of  a  Jubilee  Pole,  1 
Confound  their  Polities.  294 
Constables  in  Council,  5 
Cuu»!:intmn|ije    with   a    "No"    and    a 

"  Yes,"  61 

Cricket  Chatter,  255 
Cricket. ' 

Cross  Questions  and  very   straight  An- 
swers, 1R5 

Cry  of  the  Coroner  (The)  219 
Curse  of  the  Road  (The),  18 
DARBY  Jones  at  Manchester,  246 
Darby  Jones  at  York.  s7 
Darby  Jones  naturally  elated,  183 
Darby  Jones  on  Goodwood,  45 
I  '.-irl.y  Jones  on  Racing  in  general   •> 
Darby  Jones  on  the  Caml.ridgeshire,  ]»3 
Darhy  Jones  on  the  Cesai-cwitch,  173 
Darby  Jones  on  the  Liverpool  Cup,  222 
Darby  Jones  on  the  St.  Leger,  111 
Darby  Jones  "over  the  Sticks,"  279 
Defeat  of  Diggle  (The),  265 
Defiance,  not  Defence,  130 
Deliverance  of  Dorothea  (The),  42 
Devonshire  Creme  de  la  Creme,  6 


Diary  of  a  Dinner,  133 

Diary  of  a  Would-lie  Con  ributor,  85 

"  Diet  Unlimited,"  174       >1!:. 

Dinners  and  Diners,  4 

Diplomatic  Maxims  a  1'Americaine  185 

Discovered  by  the  Doctors,  6 

Dolce  far  Niente,  102 

Domestic  Disciples,  138 

"  Doubtful  FrequenUtlons,'il85 

Dr.  Lecher's  Speech,  228 

EAHI.V  Hird  (The),  195 

Economical  Drama  (The),  70 

Edwin  James  Milliken,  102 

Electoral  Joys,  219 

Biror  of  Judgment  (An),  64,  76,  88,  100, 
112,  124,  136 

Essence  of  Parliament,  11,  28,  35,  45,  47, 
59,71 

Ethics  of  House-change  (The),  149 

l:toM  v.  Harrow,  27 

Evident  Misprint  (An),  157 

Experiences  of  an  Earl's-Courtier,  41 

FALRK  Footsteps,  246 

"  False  Modesty,"  118 

Fie!  65 

Field  of  the  Cloth  of  Green  (The),  178 

Final  Farewell  (A),  64 

"  Finis  Coronal,"  9 

For  neither  Defence  nor  Defiance,  118 

Further  Privileges  for  Colonial   Celebri. 
ties,  48 

Further  Proverbs,  234 

GKHMAS  Puzzle  Solved  (A),  3 

Good-night !  144 

Gordon  Hollanders  (The),  191 

HAGGIS  at  the  Haymarket,  232 

Hand  and  Glove  at  the  Aquarium,  197 

Heathen  (The),  216 

Hiliernating  Opera,  177 

Hints  for  Henley,  15 

Hints  to  Hostesses,  192 

H.M.S.  "Good  Hope,"  29 

"  Hoch  !  Toby,  M.P.  as  Private  Referee," 
291 

Holiday  Resort*,  69 

Honour  to  Hindostan,  133 

"Horas  non  Numcro  "  qnanquam  "Sere- 
nas," 284 

How  the  Match  came  ofl,  27 

How  the  Money  goes,  58 

H.R.H.  Mary  Adelaide  of  Teck,  209 

Humming  Pest  (The),  267 

IHEAL  Husband  (The),  285 

"  In  Globo,"  161 

In  Nice,  98 

In  re-  Pinkcrton's  Insurance,  273,  288 

Interview  (An),  169 

In   the  Matter  of  a  Pointless  Anecdote, 
227 

"  In  the  Name  of  Honour— Play  ! "  99 

"  In  the  Name  of  Justice— Wigs  ! "  71 

Invasion  of  the  Influenza  (The),  300 

Invisible  Elevation,  6 

I  wait  for  The*  !  268 
JEAN  Ingelow,  40 
Jewel  of  an  Idea  (A),  186 
Jones,  Wyndham  4  Co.,  Limited    Liar- 
ability,  184 


KAISER'S  Sabbath  (The),  159 

Kew-rlos,  108 

Kinghorn  an*  Lunnon,  153 

LADIES'  Mile  (The),  265 

I*awn  Lords  at  Windsor,  28 

Lay  of  an  Optimist  (The),  15 

Lay  of  the  G. P.O.  (AX  48 

Lay  of  the  Great  Auk's  Egg  (The),  60 

Lay  of  the  Lakes  (A),  165 

Utters  to  the  Celebrated,  196,  220,  233, 

251,  253,  280 

L.  F.  B.  Vade  Mecnm  (The),  264 
Liberal  Education  (A),  203 
Links  with  the  Past,  234 
Literary  Nightmare  (A),  281 
Little  Cubbing  (A),  121 
Long-ago  Legends,  In 
MAID  in  the  Matinee  Hat,  301 
Meins.  from  the  Note-book  of  an  Imperial 

Toast-master,  144 
Missing  Meteors  (The),  250 
Mode  of  the  Moment  (The),  51 
Modest  Demand  (A),  301 
More  Manners  for  Women,  256 
More  the  Merrier  (The),  147 
Motor  Car-acteristics,  275 
Mr.  Punch's  "  Tatcho  "  Model  Advertiser 

181,  205 

Mentality  v.  Emotion,  173 
NATURAL  History,  173 
New  Drama  at  Old  Drury  (The),  155 
New  Game  of  Domestic  Service  (The)  228 
New  Lamps  for  Old,  221,  239,  255 
New  Novel-Writing  (The),  122 
New  Year's  Eve,  305 
New  Year's  Resolution  (AX  309 
Notes  by  a  Country  Naturalist,  12,  22 
Notices  to  Correspondents,  185 
Not  Impossible,  75 
N.  P.  by  Pigeon  Post  (The),  48 
OBJECTIONS  to  Places,  73 
Ode  on  a  London  Tram,  263 
Ode  to  an  Oyster,  264 
Ode  to  a  Slot-Machinc,  207 
Old  Bit  (The1,  88 
On  a  Common,  126 
One  Touch  of  Nature,  29 
On  the  Brighton  Road,  129 
On  the  River,  61 
"On  the  Trail  of  a  Ghost,"  107 
Operatic  Notes,  5,  18,  28 
Our  Advertisers,  269 
Our  Archaeological  Outing,  49 
Our  Bonking-Office,  9,  65,  81,  89,  98,  135, 

153,  157,  171,  185,  204,  209,  228,  229,  250, 

261,  268,  277,  293,  305 
Our  Correspondence  Column,  257 
Our  Domestic  Wants,  137 
"  Our  Square  at  the  Seaside,"  96 
PARLIAMENTARY  Cricket  in  the  Colonies, 

135 

Partant  pour  la  Chine,  289 
"  Pas  de  Charge"  a  Canterbury,  25 
Patriot  Patient's  Resolve  (The),  75 
Pax  a  la  Mode,  153 
Peri  at  the  Gate  (A),  301 
Peril  of  Poetry  (The),  2«5 
Philadelphians  (The),  3 


Philanthropic  Protest  (A),  141 

"  Please  to  Remember  the  Gny,"  201 

Plethora  of  Books  (The),  275 

Plumber  (The),  213 

Poaching  up  to  Date,  167 

Polite  Post-bag  (The),  80 

"  Potted  Zulu,"  258 

Premier  Punch  to  Colonial  Premiers,  13 

Pretty  Pass  (A),  30» 

Previous  Question  (A),  286 

Private  Committee  of  Inquiry  (A),  35, 

Professional  Deception,  298 

Propitiator's  Vade  Mecum  (The),  165. 

Pros  and  Cons,  131 

Protett(A),  111 

Proverbs  re-set,  207 

RECRUIT'S  Vade  Mecum  (The),  286 

Reflections  on  a  Broken  Engagement,  12, 

Regrets  en  Route,  150 

Remote  Night  gown  (The),  231 

Retained  for  the  Defence,  270 

Rhymes  with  Reason,  21 

SAFK  in  Port,  217 

Sara's  Latest  Scene,  34 

School- Board  Election,  1897..  287 

School  Board  Election  Vade  Meenm,  246 

School-days  in  France,  148 

"  Schuriwary  "  Cycling  Costume  (The),  33 

"  Scots  wha  hae,    201 

Seaside  Photographer  (The),  77 

Seaside  Visitor's  Vade  Mecum  (The),  21 

Seasonable  Article  (A),  245 

Seasonable  Literature,  276 

Seasonable  Yule-tide  (A),  289 

Season. Enjoyer's  Vade  Mecum  (The),  72 

Sensible  Party  (The),  293 

Seven  BUges  of  Literary  Success,  160 

Sex  versus  Sex,  58 

Shakspeare  and  Sport,  198 

"  Shine  out,  fair  Sun,"  287 

Shopping  a  Century  hence,  51 

Sir  Charles  Edward  Pollock,  261 

Sir  Frank  Lockwood,  Q.C.,  M.P.,  310 

Sir  John  Gilbert,  R.A.,  174 

Sketches  in  London,  16, 156 

Slight  Difference  (A),  222 

Slow  Train  (The),  114 

Small  Culture,  70 

Some  Advantages  of  a  London  Fog,  205 

Somebody'!  Diary,  73 

Some  Christmas  Waits,  800 

Some  More  Rumours,  MS 

Some  Queries  and  Surmises,  245 

Song  of  Degrees  (A),  129 

Songs  for  the  Nation,  275,  292 

Special  Information,  298 

Sphinx's  latest  Riddle  (TheX  17 

Sportive  Songs,  10,  15,  84,  59,  66,  83,  93, 

108,  117,  123,  135,  150,  162,  189,  240,  243, 

258,  287,  804 

Stall  Mendicant's  Vade  Mecum  (TheX  4* 
Stifled  Stockbroker  (The),  78 
Still  Abroad,  282,  293 
St.  John's  Wood  House  of  Lord's,  243 
Sudden  Change  (AX  150 
Suggested  Transformation  Scene  (AX  29 
Suggestions  for  the  Silly  Season,  57 


312 


PUNCH,  OR  THE  LONDON  CHARIVARI. 


1,  1898. 


Surgeons,  please  Note,  256 

"  TALK  of  Two  Cities  "  (A),  IS 

"  Tate  Monte,"  25 

Telephone  Clerk  (The),  181 

Teutonic  Plague  (The),  306 

Then  and  Now,  13V 

There  and  Back  with  a  Card,  41 

Things  they  do  better  iu  Holland,  162 

Those  Private  Theatricals  !  297 

Those  who  are  always  with  us,  123 

To  a  Boschviooltje,  234 

To  a  Destroyer,  237 

To  an  Old  Fogey,  294 

To  a  Real  Bad  Shot,  297 

Toby  M.P.'s  Parliamentary  Guide,  215, 

225,  240,  249 
To  Guardians,  232 
To  H.R.H.,  49 
To  Pheme,  198 
To  Sir  F.-P.,  Bart.,  193 
To  the  Crew  of  the  Margate  Surf- Boat,  270 
To  the  Eminent  Daily  Paragraphist,  10J 
"  Touch  of  the  Badger  "  (A),  97 
Tragedy  at  the  Zoo  (A),  24 
Travellers  Tricked  (The),  210 
Treasure  Trove,  84 
Trop  Fort !  120 

True  Blues  at  Stammershan:,  207 
Turk  through  the  Telephone  (The),  21 
Turns  of  the  Tide,  243 
UNCIVIL  War  (An),  189 
Unlimited  Louie  in  Soho,  179 
Use  of  Usury  (The),  53 
VAC.  and  its  Vacuum  (The),  53         '&••  • 
Vale !  1 

'Varsity  Match  (The),  22 
Vegetarian  Dinner  (The),  305 
Voice  from  Nelson's  Column  (A),  192 
Votes  and  Vox  Populi,  192 
"WANTED!  "277 

Wanted,  an  Edict  of  "  Nants,"  102 
Wealth  v.  Health,  66 
Weigh  they  have  in  the  Army  (A),  195 
What  is  Luggage  ?  1 79 
What's  in  Names?  210 
What  the  South  Sea  Waves  are  saying,132 
What  will  he  do  with  it?  168 
Wheel  Wictims,  172 
William  Terrias,  304 
Wires  and  Work,  72 
Wonders  at  a  Wedding,  210 
Word  from  the  Crackeries  (A),  2S7 

LARGE  ENGRAVINGS. 

"  Better  Late  than  Never,"  235 
Boundary  Question  (A),  271 
"Brothers  in  Arms,"  127 
"Cead  Mile  Failte!"  79 

"England  expects "  199 

Gloomy  Prospect  (A),  211 
"  God  Speed  !  "  7 
Home  Question  (A),  151 
Incomplete  Angler  (The),  139 

"It's  an  111  Wind "  31 

Lending  a  Hand,  175 

Luck  at  Last  I  103 

Marquis  and  the   Municipal    Monster 

(The),  247 

National  Question  (A),  163 
Only  Alternative  (The),  259 
On  the  Alert  !  91 
Poor  Relations,  104 
Shunted  !  283 
Stirring  Times,  294 
"  Stumps  drawn,"  55 
Tammany  Terrapin  nnd  the  City  Turtle 

(The),  223 

Time  the  Alchemist,  307 
"  Tiicksy  Spirit  "  (The),  43 
Unrest,  19 

Wanting  to  Know,  67 
Warning  (A),  187 

SMALL  ENGRAVINGS. 

JErial  Cyclists,  177 

Amateur  Golfist's  Trials,  143 

Amateur  Hamlet's  Photograph  (An),  120 

Amateur  Jockey  strapped  on,  189 

Ancient  Billiards,  2SO 

Ancient  Egyptian  Henley  Regatta,  12 

Ancient  Football  Match.  IV) 

Anti-Gambling  Don  Quixote,  17 

'Arries  posing  as  Officers,  130 

'Arry  dismounted  on  (he  Bench,  W 

'Arry's  Bank  Holiday  Hid.',  loi; 

Artist  a  Bud  Shot  (An),  '_'17 

Aunt  Fanny's  French  Bathing-Oni",  100 

Aunty  Mary  and  l.iltlt-  l.ily,  -1 

Automatic  Conscience-Clearer,  ^-_'0 

Awful  Fate  of  the  Cylist  Scoiehrr,  118 

Balfour  Bird  and  the  Fowler,  2">4 

Battlement  Coat  and  lint,  141 

Beet  versus  Bread,  98 

Believer  in  Palmistry  (A),  123 

Bill  for  a  Missing  Saddle  (The),  239 

Birds  lasting  him  a  Whole  Season,  81 

Boating  at  Henley,  37 

Bolting  Hunter  and  "  'Ware  Wire  ! "  201 


Boy  \vho  was  to'have  been  a  Soldier,  243 
Brown's  First  Shooting  Party,  105 
Brown's  New  Garden,  275 
Butcher  and  Young  Housekeeper,  228 
Cabby's  Sobriety  on  Boxing  Day,  306 
Cabman  and  the  Bishop,  3 
Cambridge  Crew  of  1898,. .144 
Catching  Hay.Fever  at  a  Ball,  113 
Champion  of  Ethiopia  (The),  137 
Chinese  Admiralty  Board  Meeting,  196 
Chinese  Model  Farm  (A),  101 
Chinese  Motor-Cab  (The),  237 
City  Ceremonials  illustrated,  214,  226 
Cockney  and  a  July  Pheasant,  35 
Colonel's  Anonymous  Letter  (The),  198 
Convalescent's  First  Walk  (The),  263 
Cooling  a  Knight  in  Armour,  9 
Crossing-Sweeper  and  his  Deputy,  16 
Cuthbert's  Fall  and  Biscuit,  303 
Cycle- Perambulator  (The),  244 
Cyclist  and  Cottager,  93 
Cyclist  kisses  his  Cousin,  54 
Cyclists  and  Police  Regulations.  180 
Decorating  Nelson's  Column,  185 
Dejected  Gent  on  Sea-shore,  '.V» 
Doctor's  First  Case  (A),  111 
Doctor's  Patient's  long  illness,  174 
Doctor's  Winter  Sleighing  (A),  294 
Donkey-Boys  at  Scarborough,  89 
Emma's  Ham  Sandwiches,  153 
Emperor's  Three-Card  Trick,  178 
Evolution  of  Felix  Fanretunatus,  107 
Farmer's  Advertising  Boards  (A).  109 
Farmers— Old  and  New  Style,  269 
Fashion  a  la  Shakspeare,  110 
Father  Thames  and  British  Art,  29 
Female  Excursionist  and  First-Class,  57 
Fight  between  Sullivanus  and  Palmerius, 

253 

Fishermen  and  Midges,  64 
Flirting  with  an  Indian  Gentleman,  222 
Foreigner's  Two  Railway  Tickets,  183 
Fox  and  the  Open  Earth,  261 
Foxes  "  Made  in  Germany,"  133 
Foxes  without  Smell,  184 
Freddy's  Hunting  Flask,  289 
Freddy's  New  Uorse  and  Cart,  51 
Galvanic  Urchin-Tickler  (The),  165 
Garden  Roller,  not  Guitar,  279 
Gentleman  discussing  Careless  Friend,  90 
George  and  his  Camera  on  Sea,  161 
German  British  Sailor  (The),  204 
German  Emperor  and  Crippled  Greece,  62 
Girl  biking  on  the  Sands,  148 
Girls  reading  Familiar  Sayings,  30 
Gladstone's  Reference  Books,  266 
Grandma's  Ear-Trumpet,  197 


Grandma's  Worsted  Football,  288 
Grandpapa's  Butter  Slide,  299 
Guileless  Youth  and  Jubilee  Bonnets,  33 
Hairdresser  and  Black  Lady,  221  J 

Harcourt's  Political  Weather  Forecast,  124 
Harold  and  Sybil's  Engagement,  159 
ihoh 


Henpecked  Vicar  and  Scholars,  219 
Herbert's  Chippendale  Legs,  141 
Highlanders  in  Afghan  Dress,  202 


Highlanders'  "Raw  Legs,1'  160 
Holding  on  by  a  Donkey's  Wings,  120 
Horseman  and  Newly-painted  Fence,  15 


Horses'  Head-dresses,  94 

Horse  with  a  Hugly  'Ed,  255 

Hostess  and  Little  Author,  84 

H.R.H.  Dr.  Wales,  50 

Hunter  in  a  Bog,  205 

Hunter  that  will  Jump,  287 

Hunting  Man  and  his  Saddle,  241 

Hunting  Man  in  a  Blind  Ditch,  181 

Hunting  Man's  Bargain  bolts,  225 

Hunting  Man  takes  a  Header,  304 

Hunting  Stranger  and  Deep  Water,  233 

Huntress  jumping  over  Lady  Friend,  250 

If  the  Ocean  was  all  Beer  ?  108 

Imperial  "Traveller"  and  Sultan,  218 

Improved  Hot-Water  Lamp-Posts,  165 

Introducing  Mamma  to  Nigger,  41 

Irish  Hunting-Man's  Obstruction,  L'04 

John  Pull  and  Miss  Niger,  192 

John  Bull,  Madame  France,  and  Russia, 242 

Jonathan's  Silver  and  John's  Gold,  194 

Kaiser  and  Coal-Merchant,  273 

King  of  Slam's  White  Elephants,  49 

Klondyke I  86 

Kruger  in  his  State-Coach,  190 

Ladies  discussing  Lutheran  Service,  162 

Lady  Artist  and  Sailor,  171 

Lady  Artist's  Light  Touch,  229 

Lady  buying  useless  Things,  209 

Lady  Stupidly  Dull  from  a  Cold,  234 

Laurier's  Canadian  Store,  261 

Little  Boy  and  Pheasants'  Names,  193 

Little  Girl  and  the  Story  of  Eden,  258 

Little  Mare  that  Bolts  (A),  117 

Little  Miss  Diana's  Pony,  309 

London  Caretaker's  Party  (A),  76 

Lovely  Lady  and  her  BulMog,  87 

Lunatic  and  Fisherman,  82 

Maid-Servant  and  Curate,  22 

Man  of  Regular  Habits  (A),  167 

M.  Faure's  Russian  Reception,  74 

Ministerial  "  Mirror  of  Venus,"  298 

Miss  Mayfnir  and  Paddling,  132 

Miss  Meadowsweet  and  the  Doctor,  92 

Miss  Wump  divides  her  Votes,  257 

Moonlight  in  the  Tunnels,  136 


Morley-Mullah's  Telling  Shot,  158 
Mounted  Swell  mistaken  for  Groom,  25 
Mr.  John  Morley,  277 
Mr.  MacSimius  and  his  Progenitors,  10 
Mr.  O'Flnke  and  the  Gamekeeper,  205 
Mr.  Punch's  Stained -Glass  Window,  310 
Mrs.  Blobb's  B  jy  to  be  a  Butcher,  28 
Mrs.  Brown's  Donation  to  the  Niggers,  52 
Muscular  Undergraduate  on  Browning.  6 
Musically-inspired  Chef  (A),  238 
Music  Pupil  observing  the  Rests,  45 
Nervous  Lady  on  New  Hunter,  252  '} 
Nervous  Philanthropist  in  Slums,  66, 
New  Groom's  Character  (A),  121 
New  Year's  Gift  to  "  Tommy,"  302 
Noble  Amateur  and  his  Model,  267 
Novice  out  Shooting  in  the  Rain,  1571 
Nurse  and  the  Nurse-Housemaid,  191 
Obliging  Cornet  and  Organ-grinder, J 
Old  lioatmau's  Nose  (An)  150 
Old-Bottle  Dealer  (An),  210 
Old  Gent  and  Newly-painted  Gate,  46 
Old  Lady  slapping  Little  Boy,  179 
Old  Landlady's  Cider  (An),  63 
Old  Rustic's  Incurable  Complaint,  246 
Old  Stag  and  Stalker's  Dummy,  147 
Overthrown  Bicyclist  and  Inn  Sign,  27 
Parliamentary  Cricket  Team  (The),  106 
Parliamentary  Free  Fight  (A),  262 
Parliamentary  "Side  Shows,"  274 
Passenger  Chamberlain  at  the  Customs,  62 
Passenger's  Luggage  (A),  134 
Pat  and  a  Return  Ticket,  58 
Picture-Book  Fairies,  297 
Poetess  at  the  Seaside  (A),  13 
Prehistoric  "  Servant  Difficulty,"  154 
Professor's  Lecture  on  Sun  spots,  18 
Proposing  to  Lady  on  Horseback,  208 
Provost  of  Leith  and  Medal,  177 
Punch  and  Judy  at  the  Pole,  292 
Railway  Official  and  Naval  Review,  42 
Ranji's  Cricket  in  Australia,  290 
Ratepayer's  Rates  Reduced  (A),  170 
Ready-Made  Coats  (-of-Arms),  83,  85,  250, 
Rector  and  old  Villager,  301  [310 

Restive  Horse  in  Dog-Cart,  39 
Riding  in  American  Style,  297 
Riverside  Rider  and  Lady  Cyclist,  96 
Rosebery  as  Wandering  Musician,  206 
Rosebery,  the  Converted  Sportsman,  278 
Rustic  Hairdresser  (A),  203 
Safe  Shooting  from  a  Butt,  88 
Salisbury's  Guildhall  Nightmare,  230 
Schoolboy  and  Ancient  Romans,  13S 
Scotch  Fisherman  Wading,  213 
Scotch  Skipper's  Provisions  (A),  21 
Seaside  Donkey-riders,  73 
Servant  Girt  and  New  Parson,  282 
Shadows  of  Modern  Hat,  47 
Shepherd  and  Tourist  far  North,  78 
Sherman  and  the  Seals,  34 
Shooting  anything  but  Birds,  122 
Shooting-man  and  Two  Foxes,  177 
Short-tailed  Dress  Coats,  201 
Sir  Percy  and  the  Collector,  281 
Sisters  Bargain  for  Garden  Seat,  69 
Sitting  well  back  at  a  Fence,  276 
Sketching  over  a  Pond,  149 
Smith  being  introduced  to  Author,  245 
Solomon  Aaron's  Shop  burnt,  40 
Songs  and  their  Singers,  112,  135 
Sporting  Swell  and  his  Puppy,  173 
Sportsman  Duck-shooting,  240 
Stout  Lady  Cub-hunting,  145 
Street  Boys  and  a  Guy,  215 
Stuttering  Rustic  and  Stranger,  231 
Sultan  and  debating  Powers,  38 
Swell  disappointed  of  a  "  Fiver,"  186 
Teddy  and  the  Fox's  Head,  168 
Teetotal  Lady  engaging  Servant,  102 
Timid  Driver  and  Passing  Cabby,  249 
Tomkins  on  a  Swiss  Glacier,  97 
Tommy  and  Papa's  Fibs,  192 
Tommy  and  the  Dark  Room,  293 
Tortoise-riding  at  the  Zoo,  125 
Tourists  and  Mountain  Lass,  119 
Trying  a  Bucking  Hunter,  129 
Turkish  Tortoise  (The),  14 
Two  Actresses,  270 
Two  Lady  Cyclists,  227 
Two  Ladv  Fox-hunters,  285 
Two  more  "Side  Shows,"  286 
Two  lieprobate  Husbands,  305 
Undergraduate  and  Cyclists.  172 
Vicar's  Cycling  Lesson  (A),  01 
Village  Dame  and  Laiulscsue-uaiute'',  I11 
Visitor  and  Villas  Toper,  300 
Waiter  and  Clu.leric  Colonel,   I 
Wanting  to  ride  on  Daddy's  Caul:,  Is':. 
Waterloo  Musket  (A),  207 
\Vi-t,  y.-l  very  Dry,  291 
What  Tomkin's  Dog  lives  on,  70 
"  Whip  behind  "  a  Motor  Cab,  155 
Wives  wanted  in  Canada,  140 
Workmen  in  the  Roadway,  131 
Yankee  Gent  Hare-shooting,  156 
Young  Lady  on  Convex  and  Concave,  251 
Young  Lady's  Photograph  (A),  208 
Young  Lady  who  likes  Cricket,  75 


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