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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:43:27 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:43:27 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/13995-0.txt b/13995-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d9a0c77 --- /dev/null +++ b/13995-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1412 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13995 *** + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 101. + + + +October 3rd, 1891. + + +THE TRAVELLING COMPANIONS. + +No. IX. + +SCENE--_The Burg Terrace at Nuremberg_. PODBURY _on a bench, grappling +with the Epitome of_ SPENCER. + +_Podbury_ (_reading aloud, with comments_). "For really to conceive the +infinite divisibility of matter is mentally to follow out the divisions +to infinity, and to do this would require infinite time." You're right +_there_, old cock, and, as I haven't got it to spare, I won't trouble +you!--um--um ... "opposite absurdities"--"subjective modifications" ... +"ultimate scientific ideas, then, are all representative of ideas that +cannot be comprehended." I could have told _him_ that. What bally rot this +Philosophy is--but I suppose I must peg away at it. Didn't she say she was +sorry I didn't go in more for cultivating my mind? (_He looks up._) Jove, +here she comes! and yes, there's that beggar CULCHARD with her! I thought +he'd--how the dickens did he manage to--? I see what _he's_ after--thinks +he'll cut me out--twice over--but he shan't this time, if I can help it! + +_Culchard_ (_to_ Miss HYPATIA PRENDERGAST). No, the Modern Spirit is too +earnestly intent upon solving the problems of existence to tolerate humour +in its literature. Humour has served a certain purpose in its day, but that +day is done, and I for one cannot pretend to regret its decay. + +_Miss H. P._ Nor I. In fact, the only humour I ever _really_ appreciated +is that of the ancient classics. There has been no true fun since +ARISTOPHANES died. At least, _I_ think not. + +_Podb._ (_catching the last sentence_). Oh, I say, come, Miss PRENDERGAST. +Have you ever read "The Jumping Frog"? + +_Miss P._ I was under the impression that _all_ frogs jumped. But I never +read--I--ah--_study_. + +_Podb._ (_declining to be crushed_). Well, I call MARK TWAIN funny anyhow. +But _I'm_ going in for study now. I am--honour bright! I'm swotting up +SPENCER--look! + +[_He exhibits the volume proudly._ + +_Miss P._ And are you not enchanted by the logical lucidity of that great +thinker? + +_Podb._ Um--I should be more enchanted if I ever had the faintest notion +what the great thinker was driving at. Look here--here's a simple little +sentence for you! _(Reads.)_ "Let us therefore bear in mind the +following:--That of the whole incident force affecting an aggregate, the +effective force is that which remains after deducting the non-effective, +that the temporarily effective and the permanently effective vary +inversely, and that the molar and molecular changes wrought by the +permanently effective force also vary inversely." (_With pathos._) And +that's only in an _Epitome_, mind you! + +_Miss P._ Really, Mr. PODBURY, I see nothing particularly incomprehensible +in that. + +_Culch._ (_with his superior smile_). My dear PODBURY, you can hardly +expect to master the Spencerian phraseology and habit of thought without +at least _some_ preliminary mental discipline! + +_Podb._ (_nettled_). Oh--but _you_ find him plain-sailing enough, I +suppose? + +_Culch._ I have certainly not encountered any insuperable difficulties in +his works as _yet_. + +_Podb._ Well, I'll just trouble you to explain _this_--wait a bit. +(_Opens volume again._) Ah, here we are--"And these illusive and primordial +cognitions, or pseud-ideas, are homogeneous entities which may be +differentiated objectively or subjectively, according as they are presented +as Noumenon or Phenomenon. Or, in other words, they are only cognoscible as +a colligation of incongruous coalescences." Now then--are you going to tell +me you can make head or tail of all that? + +_Culch._ (_perceiving that_ Miss P. _is awaiting his reply in manifest +suspense_). It's simple enough, my dear fellow, only I can't expect _you_ +to grasp it. It is merely a profound truth stated with masterly precision. + +_Podb._ Oh, is _that_ all, my dear fellow? (_He flings up his heels in an +ecstasy._) I _knew_ I'd have you! Why, I made that up myself as I went +along, and if _you_ understand it, it's a jolly sight more than _I_ do! +[_He roars with laughter._ + +_Miss P._ (_behind her handkerchief_). Mr. CULCHARD has evidently gone +through the--the "preliminary mental discipline." + +_Culch._ (_scarlet and sulky_). Of course, if Mr. PODBURY descends to +childishness of that sort, I can't pretend to-- + +[Illustration: Podbury grappling with the Epitome of Spencer.] + +_Podb._ (_wiping his eyes_). But you _did_ pretend, old chap. You said it +was "profound truth" and "masterly precision"! I've got more profound truth +where _that_ came from. I say, I shall set up as an intellectual Johnny +after this, and _get_ you to write an Epitome of me. I think I pulled your +leg _that_ time, eh? + +_Culch._ (_biting his lip_). When you have extracted sufficient +entertainment from that very small joke, you will perhaps allow Miss +PRENDERGAST to sit down and begin her sketch. You may not be aware that +you've taken her place. + +[_He withdraws majestically to the parapet, while_ PODBURY _makes way for_ +Miss P. _with apologies_. + +_Podb._ (_as he leans over seat while she sketches_). I wish your brother +BOB had been here--he would have enjoyed that! + +_Miss P._ It was really too bad of you, though. Poor Mr. CULCHARD! + +_Podb._ He shouldn't try to make me out a bigger duffer than I am, then. +But I say, you don't _really_ think it was too bad? Ah, you're +_laughing_--you don't! + +_Miss P._ Never mind what I really think. But you have got us both into sad +disgrace. Mr. CULCHARD is dreadfully annoyed with us--look at his +_shoulders_! + +_Culch._ (_leaning over parapet with his back to them_). That _ass_ +PODBURY! To think of his taking me in with an idiotic trick like that! And +before Her too! And when I had made it all right about the other evening, +and was producing an excellent impression on the way up here. I wish I +could hear what they were whispering about--more silly jokes at my expense, +no doubt. Bah! as if it affected _me_! + +_Podb._ (_to_ Miss P.). I say, how awfully well you draw! + +_Miss P._ There you betray your ignorance in Art matters. Sketching with me +is a pastime, not a serious pursuit, (_They go on conversing in a lower +tone._) No, _please_, Mr. PODBURY. I'm quite sure he would never-- + +_Podb._ (_rises; comes up to_ CULCHARD, _and touches his shoulder_). I say, +old chappie-- + +_Culch._ (_jerking away with temper_). Now, look here, PODBURY. I'm not in +the mood for any more of your foolery-- + +_Podb._ (_humbly_). All right, old boy. I wouldn't bother you, only Miss +PRENDERGAST wants a figure for her foreground, and I said I'd ask you if +you'd keep just as you are for a few minutes. Do you mind? + +_Culch._ (_to himself_). Afraid she's gone too far--thinks she'll smooth me +down! Upon my word, it would serve her right to--but no, I won't be petty. +(_Aloud._) Pray tell Miss PRENDERGAST that I have no immediate intention of +altering my position. + +_Podb._ Thanks awfully, old chap. I knew you'd oblige. + +_Culch._ (_incisively_). I am obliging Miss PRENDERGAST, and her only. +(_Raising his voice, without turning his head._) Would you prefer me to +_face_ you, Miss PRENDERGAST? + +_Miss P._ (_in tremulous tones_). N--no, thank you. It--it's so much more +n--natural, don't you know, for you to be l--looking at the view. + +_Culch._ As you please. (_To himself._) Can't meet my eye. Good! I shall go +on treating her distantly for a little. I wonder if I look indifferent +enough from behind? Shall I cross one foot? Better not--she may have begun +sketching me. If she imagines I'm susceptible to feminine flattery of this +palpable kind, she'll--how her voice shook, though, when she spoke. Poor +girl, she's afraid she offended me by laughing--and I _did_ think she had +more sense than to--but I mustn't be too hard on her. I'm afraid she's +already beginning to think too much of--and with my peculiar position with +Miss TROTTER--(MAUD, that is)--not that there's anything definite at +present, still--(_Aloud._) Ahem, Miss PRENDERGAST--am I standing as you +wish? (_To himself._) She doesn't answer--too absorbed, and I can't hear +that idiot--found he hasn't scored so much after all, and gone off in a +huff, I expect. So much the better! What a time she is over this, and how +quiet she keeps! I wish I knew whether it was coquetry or--shall I turn +round and see? No, I must be perfectly indifferent. And she _did_ laugh at +me. I distinctly saw her. Still, if she's sorry, this would be an excellent +opportunity for--(_Aloud._) Miss PRENDERGAST! (_No reply--louder._) May I +take it that you regret having been betrayed into momentary approbation of +a miserable piece of flippancy? If so, let me assure you--(_Turns round--to +discover that he is addressing two little flaxen-haired girls in speckled +pinafores, who are regarding him open-mouthed._ Miss PRENDERGAST _and_ +PODBURY _have disappeared_.) PODBURY _again!_ He must have planned +this--with _her_! It is too much. I have done--yes--done with the pair of +them! [_Strides off in bitter indignation._ + + * * * * * + +SCHOOL-BOY'S FIRST EXPERIENCE OF SMOKING.--One sickarette,--and he never +could do another. _O si sic omnes_! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE!"] + + * * * * * + +"HOTEL ME, GENTLE STRANGER!" + +[Mrs. WHEELER and Mrs. CUSTER, two literary ladies of New York, are +starting a hotel for women only.] + + Says Mrs. CUSTER to Mrs. WHEELER: + "I propose we put out a 'promoting' feeler!" + Says Mrs. WHEELER to Mrs. CUSTER, + "Monopolist Males we shall greatly fluster;" + 'Hotel it not in Gath!' at present + Till we have made things nice and pleasant. + First rule--'No Rules!' O, of course male noddies + Will snigger at once, the superior bodies! + But OSCAR WILDE must 'pull up his socks,' + Ere he'll equal women at paradox. + What I mean is this, in our 'Women's Hotel,' + We'll have no such thing as the 'Curfew Bell,' + And no fixed hour for the cry, 'Out lights!' + We will give free way to true 'Woman's Rights,' + Which are to thump, strum, tap, twirl, trill, + From morn till night at her own sweet will. + That's why we cherish, despite male spleen, + Typewriter, Piano, and Sewing-Machine! + The 'woodpecker tapping' is, indeed, not in it + With Emancipate Woman--no, not for a minute! + Our Hotel will be, when we've won the battle, + 'The Paradise of unlimited Rattle,' + 'The Realm of the Spindle,' 'the Home of the Duster!'" + Says Mrs. WHEELER to Mrs. CUSTER. + "Nought tabooed save Man! So comes Peace the Healer!" + Says Mrs. CUSTER to Mrs. WHEELER. + _Punch hopes_ their Hotel may flourish--only, + Spots "Reserved for Ladies" are often--lonely! + + * * * * * + +THE GERMAN EMPEROR GOING NAP.--It now appears that the words descriptive of +NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE used by the German Emperor, and to which the French +took so strong an exception, were not "_Le parvenu Corse_," but "_Le +conquérant Corse_," which, of course, makes all the difference. At this +banquet it would have been better had each course been omitted from the +_menu_. + + * * * * * + +A Vain Vaunt. + + _La belle France_ boasts of being Art's true henchman! + That cosmopolitan claim she should be mute on. + "Art for Art's sake!" shouts the thrasonic Frenchman, + "Save when that Art is Teuton," + Though Art's not marred for him by subtle sin + A German twang poisons e'en _Lohengrin_. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: INDISCRIMINATE CHARITY. + +_Benevolent Old Lady._ "NO, MR. SMITH; I SHALL NOT CONTINUE MY SUBSCRIPTION +TO YOUR CRICKET-GROUND ANY LONGER--FOR I FIND YOU ALLOW IT TO BE USED IN +THE WINTER FOR PIGEON-SHOOTING!" + +_Secretary to the Local Cricket Club._ "BUT, MADAM, YOU CAN'T BE AWARE THAT +WE SHOOT AT NOTHING BUT _CLAY PIGEONS!_" + +_B. O. L._ "I DON'T CARE _WHAT_ THE BREED MAY BE--IT'S EQUALLY CRUEL!"] + + * * * * * + +THE ARMADA FROM THE SPANISH. + +(_Commenced by Mr. J.A. Froude and concluded by the Duke of Medina +Sidonia._) + +It may be remembered that the English writer in _Longman's Magazine_, had +got to the point when after trying to get out of the expedition by pleading +poverty, incompetency, and anything else I could think of, I was forced to +go on my way to England with apparent satisfaction. We had putrid pork and +mouldy biscuit, but still I informed the King that we were "content and +cheerful." Had I given him any other intelligence, the chances are that he +would have had my head--not a good one, but sufficient to meet my modest +requirements. + +Well, we sailed towards England, and as Mr. J.A. FROUDE has already +explained (quoting from my own letter to King PHILIP), "knowing nothing of +navigation," I soon made a bad shot. Instead of going to Tilbury, I drifted +towards Cronstadt, even then a fortress of some consideration. I could tell +you a great deal more, were it not that I succumbed to sea-sickness and +gave up my command. The expedition was now, of course, commanded by the +steward, but the duties of his unpleasant office left him but little time +for directing an invasion. Well, we got within reach of England when the +wind began to blow, and before I could hitch myself up with a +marling-spike, every man Jack of us was ready for Davy Jones's locker! + +But why should I dwell upon the events of the next few days? We were +out-manoeuvred and beaten. I myself took refuge in a wood of mahogany +trees, and it was my delight and my privilege to supply the requirements of +the British colony in all that they desired. The result of this was that I +and a few personal friends took refuge in a forest in which mahogany trees +flourished. It was in this leafy prison that I supplied the genuine old +Armada mahogany "as advertised." I would be afraid to say how many places I +supplied with wood from the Armada. I may hint that I know something of the +tables at Westminster and the benches of Gray's Inn. But there, that is +many years ago, and all I can say now is, "Heave away, boys," and "Three +cheers for the Don, the Keys, and the Donkey." I was the Don, the keys were +supplied to those who paid for them, and the donkeys could defend +themselves. The Armada was not a success, and after this frank avowal, it +seems to me that Mr. FROUDE need render no further explanation. Surely the +story of the Spanish Invasion is copyright. And if it is, Mr. FROUDE has no +right to tamper with my work, the more especially as it is immediately +appropriated by that model of modern journalism the _Review of Reviews_. + + * * * * * + +PHILOSOPHICAL REFLECTION.--We have five senses. That's quite enough. If we +had a sixth sense, what a _new sense_ it would be! + + * * * * * + +"IN CELLAR DEEP." + + (_Latest Up-to-Date Version of a celebrated Bacchanalian ditty, as + it might be revised by Dr. Mortimer Granville and Mr. James + Payn._) + + ["No one drinks alcoholic liquor (unless it be beer) to quench + thirst."--JAMES PAYN.] + + In Cellar deep I sit and steep + My soul in GRANVILLE'S logic. + Companions mine, sound ale, good wine-- + _That_ foils Teetotal dodge--hic! + With solemn pate our sages prate, + The Pump-slaves neatly pinking. + He's proved an ass, whose days _don't_ pass + In drinking, drinking, drinking! + + In water pure there's danger sure, + All fizzle-pop's deceiving; + And ginger-beer must make you queer + (If GRANVILLE you're believing). + Safe, on the whole, is Alcohol; + It saves man's strength from sinking. + I injure none, and have good f--fun. + Whilst drinking, drinking, drinking! + + Hic! Hic! Hooray!! New reasons gay + For drink from doctors borrow! + The last (_not_ first) is simple thirst, + Thatsh true--to LAWSON'S sorrow! + Good Templarsh fain would "physic PAYN," + And GRANVILLE squelch like winking; + But all the same, true Wisdom's--hic--game + Is drinking, drinking, drinking! + +[_Left playing it._ + + * * * * * + +MR. PUNCH'S NAVAL NOVEL. + + [_Mr. Punch_ has observed with much gratification the success of + various _brochures_ professing to give, under the disguise of + retrospect, a prophetic but accurate account of the naval battle + of the immediate future. _Mr. Punch_ has read them carefully over + and over again. For some time he has been living, so to speak, in + the midst of magnificent iron-clad fleets. In vain have torpedoes + been launched on their occasionally death-dealing mission against + him, in vain have immense shells exploded in his immediate + neighbourhood. Nothing, not even the ramming of one whole squadron + by another, has succeeded in daunting him. He has remained + immovable in the midst of an appalling explosion which reduced a + ship's company to a heap of toe-nails. And now, his mind fired by + the crash of conflict and the intoxication of almost universal + slaughter, he proposes to show the world how a naval novel that + means to be accurate as well as vivid, to be bought by the public + in thousands as well as to teach useful lessons to politicians and + sailors, ought really to be written. _Mr. Punch_ may as well state + that he has _not_ submitted this story to any naval experts. His + facts speak for themselves, and require no merely professional + approval to enhance their value.] + +WHO'D BE A SAILOR? + +(_A Story of Blood and Battle._) + +CHAPTER I. + +[Illustration: The Explosion.] + +Listen, my Grandchildren! for you are mine, not indeed by the ridiculous +accident of birth (since to speak the truth I am an unmarried old +sea-dog), but by the far higher and more honourable title of having been +selected by me to hear this yarn. You know well enough that such a tale +_must_ be told to grandchildren, and since you undoubtedly possessed +grandparents, and have been hired at a shilling an hour to listen to me, I +have every right to address you as I did. Therefore I say, my +grandchildren, attend to what I am about to relate. You who live under the +beneficent sway of the mighty Australo-Canado-Africo-Celto-Americo-Anglian +Federation of Commonwealths, can have no notion of the degraded conditions +under which I, your grandfather, and the rest of my miserable +fellow-countrymen lived fifty years ago in the year 1892. Naturally you +have read no books of history referring to any date anterior to 1902. The +wretched records of ignorance, slavery and decrepitude have been justly +expunged from your curriculum. Let me tell you then that a little country +calling itself the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland at that time +arrogated to itself the leadership of the mighty countries which you now +call your home. You smile and refer me to a large-sized map on which, as +you justly observe, this country occupies a space of not more than two +square inches. Your surprise is intelligible, but the melancholy fact +remains. All this has now been happily changed, and changed too in +consequence of a war in which England (for so the country was often +inaccurately called, except upon Scotch political platforms, where people +naturally objected to the name) in which, as I say, England bore the chief +part and obtained the decisive victory. The story of this war I am now +about to relate to you. + +CHAPTER II. + +War had been declared. We had known for a long time that it was coming. For +months past the bellicose bench of Bishops had been preaching war in all +the Cathedrals of the land. Field Marshal the Duke of WOLSELEY, who was +then a simple lord, had written articles in all the prominent American +reviews, and had proved to demonstration that with 50,000 boys and the new +patent revolving ammunition belt, Britain (for that too was the name of my +late country) was ready to defy and conquer the world. Rear-Admiral and +Lieutenant-General Sir WILLIAM T. STEAD, G.C.B., C.S.I., K.G., V.C.--the +great journalist in the shade of whose colossal mounted statue we are now +sitting--had suddenly become a convert to the doctrine that war is the +great purifier, and had offered in a spirit of extraordinary +self-abnegation to command both the Army and the Fleet in action. Volunteer +corps armed with scythes, paper-knives, walking-sticks and umbrellas had +sprung up all over the country, and had provided their own uniforms and +equipment. Lord RANDOLPH CHURCHILL, father of the present Earl of South +Africa, had been recalled to office by an alarmed country, and had united +in his own person the offices of Secretary of State for War, First Lord of +the Admiralty, Premier, Chancellor of the Exchequer and Lord Privy Seal. As +a first step towards restoring confidence, he had, with his own hands, +beheaded the former Prime Minister, the Marquis of SALISBURY, and had +published a cheap and popular edition of his epoch-making Letters from +Mashonaland. His Lordship's official residence had been established at the +Amphitryon Club where they still preserve on constant relays of ice the +_Bécassine bardée aux truffes_ which Lord RANDOLPH was about to eat when he +snubbed the united ambassadors of Germany, France, Austria, Russia, Italy +and the Republic of Andorra. The immediate consequence was a declaration of +war against us. + +CHAPTER III. + +I was at that time in command of H.M.S. _Bandersnatch_, a vessel of nine +hundred thousand horse-power, and a mean average displacement of four +hundred thousand tons. Ah, the dear old _Bandersnatch!_ Never can I forget +the thrill of exquisite emotion which pervaded my inmost being as I stepped +on board in mid-ocean. Everything was in apple-pie order. Bulkheads, +girders, and beams shone like glass in the noonday sun. The agile +torpedo-catchers had been practising their sports, and I could not resist a +feeling of intense pride when I learnt that only fifty of these heroic +fellows had that morning perished owing to the accidental explosion of one +of their charming playthings at the very crisis of the game. The racers of +the after-guns had been out for their morning's exercise. Indeed the +saddles had only just been removed, and the noble animals were now enjoying +a good square meal of corn in their bombproof stable. Keep your animals in +good fettle, and they'll never shirk their work: that was always my motto, +and right well has it answered. The roaring furnaces, the cylindrical +boilers, the prisoned steam, the twin screws, the steel shot that crashes +like thunder, the fearful impact of the ram, the blanching terror of the +supreme moment, the shattered limbs and scattered heads,--all these were +ready, waiting but for the pressure of my finger on the middle button of +the boatswain's mess-waistcoat to speed forth upon their deadly work +between the illustrated covers of a shilling pamphlet. + +CHAPTER IV. + +In another moment the enemy's fleet had hove in sight. Our movements in the +ten minutes preceding the fatal conflict will be best understood by +consulting the annexed diagram:-- + +[Illustration] + +We advanced in this imposing order for five minutes. Then came a puff of +smoke, and, in less time than it takes to tell it, two thousand men had +been literally blown into thin air, their sole remnant being the left shoe +of my trusty second in command, Captain GLIMDOWSE. I trained the two +turret-guns until I had got them into perfect condition, and gave the word. +The crash that followed was terrific. One of the massive missiles went +home, and stayed there, no amount of inducement availing to bring it out +again to face the battle. The other, however, behaved as a British missile +should, and exploded in the heart of the hostile fleet. The result was +terrific. French, German and Russian Admirals by the thousand were +destroyed, their scattered fragments literally darkening the face of the +sun, and a mixed shower of iron, steel, stanchions, bollards, monster guns, +Admirals, sailors, stewards, cocked-hats, and Post Captains fell for ten +minutes without intermission from the clouds into which they had been +driven by the awful force of the explosion. I turned to my Lieutenant, who +was standing beside me, to give a necessary order. As I was about to +address him, the machine-guns in the enemy's tops belched forth a myriad +projectiles, and the unfortunate Lieutenant was swept into eternity. All +that was left of him was his right hand, which, curiously enough, remained +for a minute suspended in the air in its proper relative position to what +had been the Lieutenant's body. I mastered my emotion with an effort, as I +reverently grasped and shook the melancholy relic. Then, shedding a silent +tear, I dropped it over the side, and with an aching heart, watched it +disappear beneath the wave on which many of its former owner's happiest +hours had been spent. + +CHAPTER V. + +This catastrophe ended the battle. The allied fleets had been swept off the +face of the ocean. I packed what remained of H.M.S. _Bandersnatch_ in my +tobacco-pouch, attached myself to a hen-coop, and thus floated triumphantly +into Portsmouth Harbour. + + * * * * * + +CHARLEMAGNE AND I. + +_Aix-la-Chapelle, Monday._--I have always had a strange longing to know +CHARLEMAGNE. To shake him by the hand, to have opportunity of inquiring +after his health and that of his family, to hear his whispered reply--that +indeed were bliss. But CHARLEMAGNE is dead, and desire must be curbed. The +only thing open to an admirer is to visit the place of his last repose, and +brood in spots his shade may yet haunt. CHARLEMAGNE was buried at +Aix-la-Chapelle (German Aachen), but since my arrival in the town, I find +great difficulty in discovering his tomb. The great soldier Emperor +resembled an unfortunate and unskilful pickpocket in one respect. He was +always being taken up. He died in the year 814, and was left undisturbed +till the year 1000, when the Emperor OTTO THE THIRD opened his tomb, and, +finding his great predecessor sitting on a marble chair, helped him down. +The marble chair is on view in the Cathedral to this day (verger, I mark) +to witness to the truth of this narrative. One hundred and sixty-five years +later, FREDERICK BARBAROSSA opened the second tomb where OTHO had placed +C., and transferred to a marble sarcophagus what, at this date, was left of +him. In the following century C. was canonised. Whereupon nothing would +satisfy FREDERICK THE SECOND but to go for the bones again. They were now +growing scarce, and only a few fragments fill the reliquary in which at +length all that is left of my revered friend (if after this lapse of time I +may call him so) reposes. + +I have been fortunate in securing a relic, not exactly of CAROLO, but of +the time at or about which he lived. It is a piece of tapestry, on which +fingers long since dust have worked a sketch of the Emperor going to his +bath. Considering its age, the tapestry is in remarkably fresh condition. +The old Hebrew trader, whom for a consideration I induced to part with it, +said he would not charge any more on that account; which I thought very +considerate. He also said he might be able to get me some more pieces. But +this, I think, will do to go on with. + +But if there be nothing left of CAROLO MAGNO, there still is the city he +loved, in which he lived and died. Here is the Kaiserquelle, bubbling out +of Büchel in which, centuries ago, he laved his lordly limbs. Going down +into my bath this morning I observed in the dim light the imprint of a +footstep on the marble stair. + +"That might have been CHARLEMAGNE'S," I said to YAHKOB, my bath attendant. + +"_Ja wohl_," said YAHKOB, nodding in his friendly way, and, going out, he +presently returned with a hot towel. + +That did not seem to follow naturally upon my observation, which was, +indeed, born of idle fancy. (I know very well C.'s death eventuated long +prior to the building of the stately colonnade that fronts the present +baths, and that therefore the footprint is illusory.) I am growing used to +a certain irrelevancy in YAHKOB's conversation. My German is of the date of +CHARLEMAGNE, and is no more understood here than is the Greek of SOCRATES +in the streets of Athens. YAHKOB was especially told off for my service +because he thoroughly understood and talked English. He says, "Ye-es" and +"Ver well." But when I offer a chance remark he, three times out of five, +nods intelligently, bolts off and brings me something back--a comb and +brush, a newspaper, but oftenest, a hot towel. Once, when I asked him +whether there were two posts a day to London, he lugged in an arm-chair. + +I get on better with WILLIAM. WILLIAM is a rubber--not of whist, _bien +entendu_, but of men. In build WILLIAM is pear-shaped, the upper part of +him, where you would expect to find the stalk, broadening out into a +perpetual smile. He has lived in the Baths twenty-three years, and yet his +gaiety is not eclipsed. If he has a foible it is his belief that he +thoroughly understands London and its ways. + +"A ver big place," he remarked this morning, "where dey kills de ladees." + +This reference not being immediately clear, WILLIAM assisted dull +comprehension by drawing his finger across his throat, and uttering a +jovial "click!" But it was only when, his eyes brimming over with fun, he +said, "YAK de Reeper," that I followed the drift of his remark. + +It is gratifying to the citizen of London travelling abroad, to learn that +in the mind of the foreigner the great Metropolis is primarily and chiefly +associated with "JACK the Ripper" and his exploits. + +"I rob you not hard," WILLIAM incidentally remarks, pounding at your chest +as if it were a parquet flooring he was polishing; "but I strong so I can +break a shentleman's ribs." + +I make due acknowledgment of the prowess, being particularly careful to +refrain from expressing doubt, or even surprise. WILLIAM, always smiling, +repeats the assertion just as if I had contradicted him. Try to change +subject. + +[Illustration: "I would break hees ribs!"] + +"I wonder if CHARLEMAGNE had a massage man in his suite?" I say, "and who +was his Doctor? Now if he had had Dr. BRANDIS, I believe he would have been +alive at this day. But we cannot have everything. CHARLEMAGNE had the Iron +Crown of Lombardy; we have Dr. BRANDIS." + +"Y e e s," said WILLIAM, still gloating over his own train of thought; +"eef I like I break a shentleman's ribs." + +Sometimes WILLIAM'S smile, contracting, breaks into a whistle, horribly +out of tune. He rather fancies his musical powers, and is proud of his + intimate acquaintance with the fashionable _chansons_ current in London +to-day, or as he puts it, "Vat dey shings at de Carrelton Clob." Then he +warbles a line of the happily long-forgotten "Champagne CHARLIE," with +intervals of "Oh what a surprise!" He sings both to the same tune, and +fortunately knows only two lines of one and a single line of the other. + +Try to bring him back to CAROLO MAGNO. + +"Wouldn't you," I ask "give all you are worth to have lived in the time of +CHARLEMAGNE? Suppose some day you walked into this room and discovered him +sitting on his marble throne as OTHO found him with the Iron Crown on his +head and his right hand grasping the imperial sceptre, what would you do?" + +"I would break hees ribs," said WILLIAM, his face illumined by a sudden +flash of delighted anticipation. + +Alack! we are thinking of two personages sundered by centuries. My mind +dwells on CHARLEMAGNE, whilst WILLIAM is evidently thinking of Champagne +CHARLIE. + + * * * * * + +"ANNALS OF A VERY QUIET FAMILY." + +There were eight of us, each within a year or so of one another. + +Father was a very quiet man, engaged all day in his study. + +Mother was equally quiet. + +Father would never allow a trumpet, drum, or any instrument of torture, +except the piano, to be brought into the house. + +Mother quietly saw his orders carried out. + +In due course we all left home one after the other, and having been so +quiet for so long, each one of us has contrived to make a considerable +noise in the world since, and are all doing well. "Doing" may be used in +the widest possible sense. Among other accomplishments we blow our own +trumpets, as you see. As father and mother object to noise, we have not +encouraged their visits. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: DEA EX MACHINÂ! + +(_A Reminiscence._)] + + * * * * * + +"AS _HE_'D LIKE IT." + +(_Shakspeare once more freely adapted to the situation._) + + ["We wanted, and we want, to do for the villages, + what the first reformed Parliament did in conferring + municipal government upon the towns. We knew + that the Tory Party did not really mean to give + us village or parish Councils.... 'The Radical + agitators,' says Sir MICHAEL HICKS-BEACH, 'want + to see a complete change in the social condition of + rural society.' What if we do?... Why, it was + for this that many of us, seven or eight years ago, + and many more years ago, fought for getting the + labourer a vote."--_Mr. John Morley at Cambridge._] + +SCENE--_The Forest of Ha_(_w_)_arden._ + +_Touchstone_ (Mr. J-HN M-RL-Y); _Audrey_, (The Agricultural Vote); _Jaques_ +(Mr. P-NCH), behind. Afterwards _William_ (Sir M-CH-L H-CKS-B-CH.) + +_Touch._ Come apace, good AUDREY: I will fetch up your votes, AUDREY. And +how, AUDREY?--am I the man yet? Doth my simple programme content you? + +_Audrey._ Your programme! Lord warrant us, what programme? + +_Touch._ I am here with thee and thy Votes as the glittering poet-god +Apollo was among the herds of Admetus. + +_Jaq._ (_aside_). Oh, knowledge oddly applied! Fancy Olympian Oracles in a +thatched cottage! + +_Touch._ When a man's speeches cannot be understood, nor a man's good +platform wit seconded by the froward child popular understanding, it +strikes a man more dead than a small minority on a big Bill. Truly, I would +the gods had made thee political. + +_Aud._ I do not know what political is. Is it honest in deed and word? Is +it a true thing? + +_Touch._ (_with sardonic frankness_). No, truly; for the truest politics +show the most feigning; and Tories are given to politics; and what they +swear, in politics, may be said, as Tories, they do feign. + +_Aud._ Do you wish, then, that the gods had made _me_ political? + +_Touch._ I do, truly; for they swear to me thou art true Tory, +parson-and-squire-ridden Tory. Now, if thou wert political, I might have +some hope thou didst feign--to _them_! + +_Aud._ Would you not have me Tory? + +_Touch._ No, truly, unless thou wert fortune-favoured; for Toryism coupled +to poverty is to have folly a sauce to misery. + +_Jaq._ (_aside_). A shrewd fool! + +_Aud._ Well, I am not rich; and therefore I pray the gods to make me +Liberal. + +_Touch._ Truly, and to cast away Liberalism upon a willingly +"unemancipated" Voter, were to deck a porker with pearls. + +_Aud._ I may not be "emancipated," but I thank the gods I am +"enfranchised." + +_Touch._ Well, praised be the Liberals for thine enfranchisement! +Emancipation--from "squarsonry"--may come hereafter. But, be it as it may, +I will marry thee. + +_Jaq._ (_aside_). I would fain see this wedding. Methinks there will be +sport forward ere it be fully achieved. + +_Aud._ Well, the gods give us joy! + +_Touch._ Amen.... But, AUDREY, there is a youth here in the forest lays +claim to you. + +_Aud._ Ay, I know who 'tis: he hath no interest in me in the world. Here +comes the man you mean. + +_Touch._ It is meat and drink to me to see a--Tory: by my troth, we that +have good wits have much to answer for; we shall be flouting; we cannot +hold. + +_Enter_ WILLIAM. + +_Will._ Good even, AUDREY. + +_Aud._ Give ye good even, WILLIAM. + +_Will._ And good even to you, Sir! + +_Touch._ Good even, gentle friend.... Art thou wise? + +_Will._ Ay, Sir, I have a pretty wit. + +_Touch._ You do desire this maid? + +_Will._ I do, Sir. + +_Touch._ Give me your hand. Art thou learned? + +_Will._ No, Sir. + +_Touch._ Then learn this of me; to have is to have; for it is a great +figure in Gladstonian rhetoric, that votes being deducted from one Party +and added to another, by putting the one Out do put the other In; for all +your writers do consent that _ipse_ is he: now you are not _ipse_, for I am +he. + +_Will._ Which he, Sir? + +_Touch._ He, Sir, that must marry the woman. Therefore, you Tory, +abandon--which is, in the vulgar, leave--the society, which in the boorish +is, company--of this female,--which in the common is, woman; which together +is, abandon the society of this female, or Tory, thou vanishest; or, to thy +better understanding, skedaddlest; or, to wit, I defeat thee, make thee +away, translate thy majority into minority, thine Office into Opposition; I +will deal in programmes with thee, or in eloquence, or in epigram; I will +bandy with thee in faction; I will o'errun thee with policy; I will "mend +thee or end thee" a hundred and fifty ways; therefore, tremble, and depart! + +SONG (_behind_). + + It was a lover and his lass, + With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, + That o'er the stubble fields did pass + (Together WILL caught 'em). + In the time of autumn, + When M.P.'s spout, and "manoeuvre" about; + M.P.'s (who are "out") love autumn. + + About three acres and a cow, + With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; + The artful country folks know now. + In the time of autumn, &c. + + Since that the franchise was their dower, + With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, + The Country Voters are a power. + In the time of autumn, &c. + + And, therefore, at the present time, + With "an Agricultural Policy"--funny, ho!-- + _Both_ Parties simple HODGE would lime, + In the time of autumn, &c. + +_Will._ (_aside_). Truly, though there is no great matter in the ditty, yet +the note is very untuneable. [_Exit._ + +_Touch._ Trip, AUDREY, trip, AUDREY,--I attend,--I attend! + [_Exeunt._ + +_Jaq._ (_appearing_). There is surely another political deluge forward, and +these motley would-be couples are seeking the official ark! [_Exit._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _William_.... SIR M-CH-L H-CKS-B-CH. _Touchstone_.... J-HN +M-RL-Y. _Audrey_....THE AGRICULTURAL VOTE. + +"AS _HE_'D LIKE IT." + +SCENE--_The Forest of Ha(w)arden._ + +TOUCHSTONE. "I AM HE THAT MUST MARRY THIS WOMAN! THEREFORE, YOU CLOWN, +ABANDON THE SOCIETY OF THIS FEMALE;.... I WILL BANDY WITH THEE IN FACTION; +I WILL O'ERRUN THEE WITH POLICY; THEREFORE. TREMBLE, AND DEPART!"--_As You +Like It_, Act V., Scene 1.] + + * * * * * + +THE TRUE TENNYSON. + +We have all been startled to find from the researches of Mr. WOODALL in +_Notes and Queries_, that "Between the story sung by the Poet Laureate in +his romantic poem _The Lord of Burleigh_, and the actual fact, there seems +to be little in common." HENRY CECIL, Earl and afterwards Marquis of +EXETER, married Miss SARAH HOGGINS under the name of JOHN JONES, having a +wife alive at the time, and she did not die as the poem relates. It is +obvious then that TENNYSON must be re-written, and we offer his Lordship +the following humble suggestions. _The Lord of Burleigh_ should +henceforward run somewhat as follows:-- + + Quoth he, "Gentle SARAH HOGGINS," + Speaking in seductive tones, + "You must wed no HODGE or SCROGGINS, + But espouse your own J. JONES." + Oh! he was an artful party, + And that marriage was a crime. + He'd a wife alive and hearty, + Though she'd left him for a time. + +The above discovery has, of course, led to doubts regarding other +Tennysonian heroines. Was Lady CLARA VERE DE VERE, for example, as black as +the poet has painted her? Perish the thought! Here are a couple of specimen +stanzas for an amended version:-- + + Lady CLARA VERE DE VERE, + I vow that you were not a flirt, + The daughter of a hundred Earls + Would not a single creature hurt. + "Kind hearts are more than coronets," + What abject twaddle, on my word; + And then the joke is in the end,-- + We know they made the bard a Lord. + + The tale of how young LAURENCE died, + In some audacious print began; + The fact is that he took to drink, + He always was that sort of man. + And as for ALFRED, why, of course + You snubbed him; but was that a crime, + That he should go and call you names, + And print his atrabilious rhyme? + +Then, again, was the _Amy_ of _Locksley Hall_ quite as shallow-hearted and +so forth as the angry rhymester declares? It will probably turn out that +she was not. Hence the verses should run in this fashion:-- + + And I said, "My Cousin AMY, speak the truth, my heart to ease. + Shall it be by banns or license?" And she whispered, "Which you please." + Love took up the glass of Time and waved it gaily in the air, + + Married life was sweet at Number Twenty-Six in Camden Square. + + AMY faithless! Bless your heart, Sir, that was not the case at all: + + It was pure imagination that I wrote in Locksley Hall. + +[Illustration: _George_ (_about to enjoy the first new-laid Egg from the +recently set-up Fowl-house_). "WHY--CONF--THEY'VE BOILED THE PORCELAIN +NEST-EGG!"] + +This process will doubtless have to be applied to many of the poems, but we +must leave the congenial task to the Laureate. + + * * * * * + +A SONNET OF VAIN DESIRE. + +AFTER THE HOLIDAYS. + + As when th' industrious windmill vainly yearns + To pause, and scratch its swallow-haunted head, + Yet at the wind's relentless urging turns + Its flying arms in wild appeal outspread; + So am I vex'd by vain desire, that burns + These barren places whence the hair hath fled, + To wander far amid the woodland ferns, + Where dewdrops shine along the gossamer thread; + Where its own sunlight on the reddening leaf + Sleeps, when soft mists have swathed the sunless tree, + + Or where the innumerous billows merrily dance; + Yet must I busily dissemble grief + Whirl'd in the pitiless round of circumstance, + Rigid with trained respectability. + + * * * * * + +New Way out of a Wager. + + DESMOND, Theosophist Colonel, now thinks better + Of his rash vow his gift to "demonstrate," + Receiving a "precipitated letter" + Warning him not to be--precipitate. + Many a Betting Man who'd hedge or tack + Must wish he had Mahatmas at _his_ back. + + * * * * * + +The Beggar's Petition. + +(_New Version._) + + Life must not be lost, Sir, with lightness, + To _labour_ for life gives me pain; + My exchequer's affected with tightness, + But begging's the pink of politeness, + Like Scribes, Sir, "I beg--to _remain!_" * + +* And didn't CHARLES LAMB, in his most delightful essay _On the +Decay of Beggars_, deplore their gradual disappearance? + + * * * * * + +DOCTOR LAURIE. + +_Song by a Scotch Student_. AIR--"_Annie Laurie_." + +["According to Dr. LAURIE, of Edinburgh University, the "teaching of Greek, +so far as it is attempted in our secondary schools, is positively +harmful."--_Daily News._] + + Pedagogue brays are bonnie, + When Greek they'd fain taboo; + And 'tis here that Doctor LAURIE + Gi'es utterance strictly true, + Gi'es utterance strictly true, + Which ne'er forgot should be, + And for bonnie Doctor LAURIE, + A Scottish boy would dee. + + Auld HOMER is a humbug, + ANACREON is an ass; + Sumphs scrape enoo o' baith o' them, + The "Little-go" to pass, + The Little-go to pass-- + It affects them "harmfullee." + Ah! but bonnie Doctor LAURIE, + He kens Greek's a' my ee! + + Like diplomas fause and lying, + Are "passes" such as this. + Why should Scotch lads sit sighing + O'er the _Anabasis_?-- + O'er the _Anabasis_? + XENOPHON's fiddle-de-dee? + Oh, for bonnie Doctor LAURIE, + I'd shout with three times three! + + * * * * * + +UNDER-LYNE'D.--Said Sir W. VERNON HARCOURT, at Ashton-under-Lyne, "I am +very glad to be enabled to come here from the hospitable roof of Mr. RUPERT +MASON." ... And again, "I have come here also from the roof of Mr. MATHER." +Quite a Sir WILLIAM ROOFUS! But what was he doing on the roof? Was there a +tile off in each case? Something wrong with the first house that a Mason +couldn't set right? And with the second, did Sir ROOFUS sing, "Oh dear, +what can the Mather be?" And why the invidious distinction between the two +roofs? The first being hospitable, and the second having no pleasant +epithet to recommend it. + + * * * * * + +PROPOSED NEW TITLE FOR LORD GR-M-TH-RPE.--Baron (H)ALTER EGO. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A LANCASHIRE WATERING-PLACE.] + + * * * * * + +POPULAR SONGS RE-SUNG; + +OR, MISS BOWDLER AT THE MUSIC HALLS. + +INTRODUCTORY. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH, + +In these progressive days earnest reformers, especially those of the London +County Council type, yearn to chasten and æstheticise the Muse of the Music +Hall, who is perhaps the only really popular Muse of the period. My name +gives me a sort of hereditary right to take exceptional interest in such +matters, though indeed my respected, and respectable, ancestor is not in +all things the model of his more catholic and cosmopolitan descendant. The +McDougall regimen would doubtless be a little _too_ drastic. To improve the +Music-hall Song off the face of the earth, is an attempt which could only +suggest itself to puritan fanaticism in its most arbitrary administrative +form. The proletariat will not "willingly let die" the only Muse whose +ministrations really "come home to its business and its bosom." No, Sir, +the People's Pegasus cannot, must not be ruthlessly consigned to the +knackers. But may it not be gently bitted, discreetly bridled, and taught +to trot or amble with park-hack paces in the harness of Respectability? + +It is in this hope and faith that the following drawing-room versions of +some of "the most popular Comic (and Sentimental) Songs of the Day" have +been attempted by + Your respectful admirer, + VIRGINIA BOWDLER. + +To the Respectable Citizen, the Moral Matron, and the Young Person, with a +love of larkiness and lilt, but a distrust of politics, pugilism, and deep +potations, the following eclectic adaptation of this prodigiously popular +ballad may perhaps be not altogether unwelcome. + +No. I.--TWO LOVELY BROWN EYES, + +AIR--"_Two Lovely Black Eyes_". + + Strolling one Sunday near Bethnal Green, + This "æsthete" you might have seen, + Surveying "the People" with scornful spleen + When, oh, what a surprise! + An Art Exhibition I chanced to see, + Therein I entered right speed-i-lee, + When--on a canvas--there shone on me + Two lovely brown eyes! + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Smiling right down on a dingy throng, + Two lovely brown eyes! + + From a canvas of "High Art" sort they shone, + Their owner was cinctured with classic zone, + She was spare of flesh, she was big in bone, + Oh, what a surprise! + A parson, whom everyone owned "a good sort," + Had hung them there for the pleasure and sport + Of the dreary dwellers in slum and court, + Those lovely brown eyes! + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Drawing the gaze of an East-End crowd, + Two lovely brown eyes! + + My own regard, as I loitered there, + Fastened on one proletariat pair, + With finery frowsy, and oily hair; + Oh, what a surprise! + "SALLIE" and "BILL" were the names they flung + Frankly abroad with unreticent tongue, + Lounging and staring where graciously hung + Those lovely brown eyes. + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + SALLIE and BILL your calm beauty could thrill; + Two lovely brown eyes! + + Art (so I argue) for all is best, + Here, in the East, on the Day of Rest, + Lo! my pet theory put to the test! + Oh, what a surprise! + The chap staring there is a Coster true, + Trowsered in corduroy, belchered in blue; + What does _he_ think of your heavenly hue, + Two lovely brown eyes? + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + "SALLIE", he whispered, "_she's_ got, like _you_, + Two lovely brown eyes!" + + The picture was one of BURNE-JONES'S best; + "SALLIE" was snub-nosed and showily drest; + I sought her visage in querulous quest, + When oh, what a surprise! + Plump in the midst of a "puddingy" face, + Coarse-cut in feature, devoid of grace, + Nature capricious had chosen to place + Two lovely brown eyes! + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + There on each side of a salient "snub," + Two lovely brown eyes: + + Brown? Ah, yes! But, alack! alack! + The brown was fringed with a halo of _black_, + Fruit, it was plain of some marital thwack, + Oh, what a surprise! + "_She_," sighed the girl, "has a beautiful chump, + Though she _do_ seem to 'ave got the 'ump. + _Them_ pair o' lamps never felt a thump, + _Them_ lovely brown eyes!" + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Something seemed telling that man he was wrong, + Two lovely brown eyes! + + Say, was it fancy? I saw a flush + O'er the coarse cheeks of that Coster rush, + "Stash it!" he murmured. A Coster blush? + Oh, what a surprise! + SALLIE,--she clung to his muscular arm-- + With a look half lovingness, half alarm, + He stooped and--kissed her! Now, was it _your_ charm, + Two lovely brown eyes? + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Was it your influence, gentle yet strong, + Two lovely brown eyes? + + "BILL," whispered she, "you may bet two _d + She_ never nagged at 'er bloke--like _me_-- + He never wheeled a whelk-barrer, d'yer see? + Oh, what a surprise! + Parties with cultcher and piles o'cash + Ain't no temptation to row or bash, + But--who's to tell but she's jilted '_er_ mash-- + Miss Lovely Brown Heyes?" + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Twinkled like stars 'twixt a tear and a frown, + Two lovely brown eyes. + + The moral you've caught I can hardly doubt; + On Art _versus_ Morals men sneer or shout, + Leave it to OSCAR to fight _that_ out, + If you would be wise. + Better, far better, it is to let + Beautiful things work their way--you bet! + Then the Coster's wife may less frequently wet + _Her_ lovely brown eyes. + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Art-loving-Man is _less_ likely to black + Two lovely brown eyes! + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +MEN OF THE PAST. + +(COMPILED BY _THE_ MAN OF THE PRESENT.) + +CROMWELL.--An English Brewer. Uncertain about his aspirates. Distinctly +vulgar. Face disfigured by warts. + +PETER THE GREAT.--Quite a common sort of Russian. Man with coarse tastes. +Came to England to learn ship-building. Fond of low society; in fact, the +type of an enterprising cad. + +WASHINGTON.--Entirely provincial English rebel, who caused considerable +trouble in America. Family fair, but not to be traced beyond three +generations. Used to eat peas with his knife. + +HANNIBAL.--Brutal barbarian. Feeblest ideas of stategy. Went the wrong way +over the Alps. Given to oaths from childhood up. Quite a classical nobody. + +BUONAPARTE.--A Corsican _Parvenu_. + + * * * * * + +The Garrick School. + + School for young actors is the Garrick Playhouse. + Upon the road to fame a quarter-way house + For IRVING _fils_. And likewise note we there + The heir apparent of a parent HARE. + + * * * * * + +"_DIO, age_!" of which the classic American translation is, "Do tell!" + + * * * * * + +JOURNAL OF A ROLLING STONE. + +NINTH ENTRY. + +Curious thing, now that I am installed as a pupil in FIBBINS'S Chambers in +Waste Paper Buildings, Temple, how few _new_ briefs I am given to read. +Usual routine is for DICK FIBBINS to hand me a brief on which the dust of +ages has collected, and to leave me to "get up the law about it"; but when +he (FIBBINS) comes back from his day's business in Court, about 4·30 P.M., +he doesn't seem to care a bit to know what the law is. Seems tired, and +prefers to gossip and smoke; so I do the same, or "follow on the same +side," as he expresses it. + +"It strikes me forcibly," I begin, "that the Plaintiff, SMITHERS, in that +running-down case you asked me to read to-day, hasn't got the ghost of a +chance. Why, in _Blatherson_ v. _Snipe_, the Court ruled--" + +"Tried the lawn-tennis in the gardens yet?" FIBBINS interrupts, in the +rudest possible manner. + +"No," I reply, "I was speaking of the Court, not lawn-tennis courts." (One +for FIBBINS, I think.) "All the Judges held in _Blatherson_ v. _Snipe_, +that--" + +"Oh, did they?" he interrupts again: "doosid interesting. Was I for +plaintiff or defendant?" + +"Plaintiff, SMITHERS. A running-down case." + +"Wish it had been a running-up case--a case of running-up the fees," he +laughs. Then, resuming a more professional style, "You see, I've had such +multitudes of cases since then, that I've forgotten the precise details. +But you write out your own Opinion--not to-day; tomorrow will do. Then I'll +see what it's like. Now let's go a trot down the Strand." + +Another circumstance that strikes me as remarkable, is the frequency with +which I hear the Impressive Clerk (in the little room next to mine) +requesting persons who have called to "settle up that other little matter." +Then the strange voice laughs, and says--"Oh, your Governor can wait." "No, +he can't,"--it's the Clerk who says this--"it's been going on for three +years, now." "Well," chimes in the unknown, "let it go a bit longer. +When'll your Governor have settled those pleadings?" "When your people +settle about the five guineas, and not before," replies the Impressive +Clerk in his best Parliamentary debating style. Then follows a long +wrangle, not on law, but on finance, which never--as far as I can +judge--ends in the Clerk getting his way, and his money. + +[Illustration: "Looks like a Prime Minister in reduced circumstances."] + +Astonishing event happens. A real live new brief comes in! Impressive +Clerk--who looks like a Prime Minister in reduced circumstances--brings it +to FIBBINS when I am in the room. More impressive than ever. "From ROGERS, +in Chancery Lane--an excellent firm, Sir," he says. Poor FIBBINS tries, +ineffectually, to conceal his delight, and his eye turns instinctively to +the place where the fee is marked. + +"Six guas" (legal slang for guineas) "for an Opinion, not bad," he +comments, rubbing his hands. FIBBINS dusts a corner of his desk, and lays +it down there. + +_I_ am given this precious brief, and am asked to write a "draft Opinion" +about it! "Just to try your hand," says FIBBINS, who does not wish me to be +conceited. "Then I'll write my own afterwards," he adds. + +I make a very elaborate commentary, quoting from innumerable parallel cases +in English, American, and Roman law, and, after giving it to DICK FIBBINS +to read, I don't see it again. + +But, a few afternoons later, when Impressive Clerk happens to be out, a +knock comes. Nobody in. At last, go myself (_Query_--infra dig.?) and open +door. + +"Here!" says a juvenile, who apparently mistakes me for the Clerk, and +rudely chucks some papers to me, which hit me in the chest, "give these to +your Governor. What a time you take answering a knock! Having a nap, hay? +Take care old FIBBINS don't catch you at it, that's all!" Juvenile +disappears downstairs, whistling, before I can think of a suitable +rejoinder. + +Open the papers. The same brief returned with request to "draw up a +Statement of Claim,"--and my "Opinion" inside! It looks as if DICK sent +these clients of his _my_ valuable advice, pretending that it was his own! + +My learned "leader," when he comes in, treats affair very coolly. + +"Oh, did I send _your_ 'Opinion' to them as well as mine? What an ass I am! +I wonder what they thought of it?" + +I also wonder. In looking over the returned brief just now, however, I +certainly did not come across the "Opinion," manufactured by FIBBINS +himself, of which that learned Counsel spoke. And I have no second chance +of examining it, as he is careful to take "all the documents in the case" +(a phrase of the Impressive Clerk's) home with him, for what he calls +re-perusal. + +The conviction that it _was_ my Opinion, and mine alone, which FIBBINS +dispatched, probably out of sheer laziness, to ROGERS & CO., Solicitors, +Chancery Lane, is one that I still retain. But it is FIBBINS who retains +the fee! + + * * * * * + +AT THE CLOSE OF THE SUMMER. + +(_By one who idled. To his Lady-help._) + + I am back at my work, which is far from exciting + After nothing to do for a month at a time, + So I am not astonished to find myself writing + To you, dear MELENDA, and writing in rhyme. + In my rooms very often the scent of the heather + Brings back with it sweet recollections, and so + I think of the days when we idled together, + Far away in the country a fortnight ago. + + Yes, the two afternoons when, although we were sorry + That it rained, we went out as to do we had vowed, + And the wonderful echo we found in a quarry + That took what we whispered and said it aloud. + Whilst we wandered through fern-laden hedges and talked, it + So happened a dragon-fly flew by your side. + You remember, I'm sure, how you laughed as I stalked it, + And how it seemed hurt, as it finally died. + + Then I think of our pic-nic. The sunshine came glinting, + And we thought that the summer had come--come to stay. + We did not walk too fast, you were constantly hinting + You were really afraid we were losing our way. + I seemed to be catching two glimpses of heaven, + As I gazed at the sky and kept looking at you; + For the party that started by being just seven + Had a curious habit of shrinking to two. + + Why, that's quite sentimental. It isn't the fashion + To write of such things in so high flown a style. + Yet maybe I'm entitled to so much of passion + As to say that you won me outright with your smile. + Though a merciless fate may not let it befall so, + For we know not at all what there may be in store, + Yet next year, if you're down there--and I am there also, + Shall we do what we did in the summer before? + + * * * * * + +"TO ERR IS HUMAN."--"Even I am not always infallible," observed _Mr. P._, +on noticing that, in the dialogue under a picture, last week, the spelling +of "cover-coat" for "covert-coat" had escaped his eagle eye. Just as he was +wondering to himself how such things could be, his other and eagler eye +caught this line in the correspondence, _per_ "Dalziel," from Chicago, in +the _Times_ for Sept. 23:--"Great Britain has chosen a sight for her +buildings at the World's Fair." If "taken" had been substituted for +"chosen," the mistake might have borne a satirical meaning. No doubt Great +Britain has not made any error as to the site she has selected, from any +point of view. + + * * * * * + +MEM. IN COLOURS. + + Man's life is in two colours, simply told: + Green while you're young, and grey when you are old. + + * * * * * + +DOMESTIC COOKERY.--(_For a future New Edition of "Mrs. +Glasse-with-care"_)--It will contain suggestions for new dishes, to be +arranged according to grammatical divisions of gender and number, as "case" +already exists. A specimen of the first will be _Une Femme-lette_, a female +companion dish to _Un 'Ommelet_. Another example proposed is _La Petite +Marmite_ and _Le Petit Pa'mite_, two dishes most suitable for a very small +family party; say of dwarf Troglodytes. "Number" of dishes must always be +"a party question;" though at the same time politics will be rigidly +excluded from the new publication. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. +101. October 3rd, 1891, by Various + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13995 *** diff --git a/13995-h/13995-h.htm b/13995-h/13995-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bbee3ba --- /dev/null +++ b/13995-h/13995-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2174 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> + + <title>Punch, 3rd October, 1891.</title> + <style type="text/css"> + /*<![CDATA[*/ + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + .author {text-align: right; margin-right: 5%;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .note + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt;} + + .poem + {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + .poem p.i20 {margin-left: 10em;} + + .figure, .figcenter, .figright + {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img, .figcenter img, .figright img + {border: none;} + .figure p, .figcenter p, .figright p + {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + --> + /*]]>*/ + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13995 ***</div> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 101.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>October 3rd, 1891.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page157" + id="page157"></a>[pg 157]</span> + + <h2>THE TRAVELLING COMPANIONS.</h2> + + <h4>No. IX.</h4> + + <p>SCENE—<i>The Burg Terrace at Nuremberg</i>. PODBURY + <i>on a bench, grappling with the Epitome of</i> SPENCER.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/157.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/157.png" + alt="Podbury grappling with the Epitome of Spencer." /> + </a> + + <p>Podbury grappling with the Epitome of Spencer.</p> + </div> + + <p><i>Podbury</i> (<i>reading aloud, with comments</i>). "For + really to conceive the infinite divisibility of matter is + mentally to follow out the divisions to infinity, and to do + this would require infinite time." You're right <i>there</i>, + old cock, and, as I haven't got it to spare, I won't trouble + you!—um—um ... "opposite + absurdities"—"subjective modifications" ... "ultimate + scientific ideas, then, are all representative of ideas that + cannot be comprehended." I could have told <i>him</i> that. + What bally rot this Philosophy is—but I suppose I must + peg away at it. Didn't she say she was sorry I didn't go in + more for cultivating my mind? (<i>He looks up</i>.) Jove, here + she comes! and yes, there's that beggar CULCHARD with her! I + thought he'd—how the dickens did he manage to—? I + see what <i>he's</i> after—thinks he'll cut me + out—twice over—but he shan't this time, if I can + help it!</p> + + <p><i>Culchard</i> (<i>to</i> Miss HYPATIA PRENDERGAST). No, + the Modern Spirit is too earnestly intent upon solving the + problems of existence to tolerate humour in its literature. + Humour has served a certain purpose in its day, but that day is + done, and I for one cannot pretend to regret its decay.</p> + + <p><i>Miss H. P</i>. Nor I. In fact, the only humour I ever + <i>really</i> appreciated is that of the ancient classics. + There has been no true fun since ARISTOPHANES died. At least, + <i>I</i> think not.</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>catching the last sentence</i>). Oh, I say, + come, Miss PRENDERGAST. Have you ever read "The Jumping + Frog"?</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. I was under the impression that <i>all</i> + frogs jumped. But I never + read—I—ah—<i>study</i>.</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>declining to be crushed</i>). Well, I call + MARK TWAIN funny anyhow. But <i>I'm</i> going in for study now. + I am—honour bright! I'm swotting up + SPENCER—look!</p> + + <p class="author">[<i>He exhibits the volume proudly</i>.</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. And are you not enchanted by the logical + lucidity of that great thinker?</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. Um—I should be more enchanted if I ever + had the faintest notion what the great thinker was driving at. + Look here—here's a simple little sentence for you! + <i>(Reads.)</i> "Let us therefore bear in mind the + following:—That of the whole incident force affecting an + aggregate, the effective force is that which remains after + deducting the non-effective, that the temporarily effective and + the permanently effective vary inversely, and that the molar + and molecular changes wrought by the permanently effective + force also vary inversely." (<i>With pathos</i>.) And that's + only in an <i>Epitome</i>, mind you!</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. Really, Mr. PODBURY, I see nothing + particularly incomprehensible in that.</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>with his superior smile</i>). My dear + PODBURY, you can hardly expect to master the Spencerian + phraseology and habit of thought without at least <i>some</i> + preliminary mental discipline!</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>nettled</i>). Oh—but <i>you</i> find + him plain-sailing enough, I suppose?</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. I have certainly not encountered any + insuperable difficulties in his works as <i>yet</i>.</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. Well, I'll just trouble you to explain + <i>this</i>—wait a bit. (<i>Opens volume again</i>.) Ah, + here we are—"And these illusive and primordial + cognitions, or pseud-ideas, are homogeneous entities which may + be differentiated objectively or subjectively, according as + they are presented as Noumenon or Phenomenon. Or, in other + words, they are only cognoscible as a colligation of + incongruous coalescences." Now then—are you going to tell + me you can make head or tail of all that?</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>perceiving that</i> Miss P. <i>is awaiting + his reply in manifest suspense</i>). It's simple enough, my + dear fellow, only I can't expect <i>you</i> to grasp it. It is + merely a profound truth stated with masterly precision.</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. Oh, is <i>that</i> all, my dear fellow? (<i>He + flings up his heels in an ecstasy</i>.) I <i>knew</i> I'd have + you! Why, I made that up myself as I went along, and if + <i>you</i> understand it, it's a jolly sight more than <i>I</i> + do! [<i>He roars with laughter</i>.</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. (<i>behind her handkerchief</i>). Mr. + CULCHARD has evidently gone through the—the "preliminary + mental discipline."</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>scarlet and sulky</i>). Of course, if Mr. + PODBURY descends to childishness of that sort, I can't pretend + to—</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>wiping his eyes</i>). But you <i>did</i> + pretend, old chap. You said it was "profound truth" and + "masterly precision"! I've got more profound truth where + <i>that</i> came from. I say, I shall set up as an intellectual + Johnny after this, and <i>get</i> you to write an Epitome of + me. I think I pulled your leg <i>that</i> time, eh?</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>biting his lip</i>). When you have + extracted sufficient entertainment from that very small joke, + you will perhaps allow Miss PRENDERGAST to sit down and begin + her sketch. You may not be aware that you've taken her + place.</p> + + <p>[<i>He withdraws majestically to the parapet, while</i> + PODBURY <i>makes way for</i> Miss P. <i>with apologies</i>.</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>as he leans over seat while she + sketches</i>). I wish your brother BOB had been here—he + would have enjoyed that!</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. It was really too bad of you, though. Poor + Mr. CULCHARD!</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. He shouldn't try to make me out a bigger duffer + than I am, then. But I say, you don't <i>really</i> think it + was too bad? Ah, you're <i>laughing</i>—you don't!</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. Never mind what I really think. But you have + got us both into sad disgrace. Mr. CULCHARD is dreadfully + annoyed with us—look at his <i>shoulders</i>!</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>leaning over parapet with his back to + them</i>). That <i>ass</i> PODBURY! To think of his taking me + in with an idiotic trick like that! And before Her too! And + when I had made it all right about the other evening, and was + producing an excellent impression on the way up here. I wish I + could hear what they were whispering about—more silly + jokes at my expense, no doubt. Bah! as if it affected + <i>me</i>!</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>to</i> Miss P.). I say, how awfully well + you draw!</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. There you betray your ignorance in Art + matters. Sketching with me is a pastime, not a serious pursuit, + (<i>They go on conversing in a lower tone</i>.) No, + <i>please</i>, Mr. PODBURY. I'm quite sure he would + never—</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>rises; comes up to</i> CULCHARD, <i>and + touches his shoulder</i>). I say, old chappie—</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>jerking away with temper</i>). Now, look + here, PODBURY. I'm not in the mood for any more of your + foolery—</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>humbly</i>). All right, old boy. I wouldn't + bother you, only Miss PRENDERGAST wants a figure for her + foreground, and I said I'd ask you if you'd keep just as you + are for a few minutes. Do you mind?</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>to himself</i>). Afraid she's gone too + far—thinks she'll smooth me down! Upon my word, it would + serve her right to—but no, I won't be petty. + (<i>Aloud</i>.) Pray tell Miss PRENDERGAST that I have no + immediate intention of altering my position.</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. Thanks awfully, old chap. I knew you'd + oblige.</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>incisively</i>). I am obliging Miss + PRENDERGAST, and her only. (<i>Raising his voice, without + turning his head</i>.) Would you prefer me to <i>face</i> you, + Miss PRENDERGAST?</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. (<i>in tremulous tones</i>). N—no, + thank you. It—it's so much more n—natural, don't + you know, for you to be l—looking at the view.</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. As you please. (<i>To himself</i>.) Can't meet + my eye. Good! I shall go on treating her distantly for a + little. I wonder if I look indifferent enough from behind? + Shall I cross one foot? Better not—she may have begun + sketching me. If she imagines I'm susceptible to feminine + flattery of this palpable kind, she'll—how her voice + shook, though, when she spoke. Poor girl, she's afraid she + offended me by laughing—and I <i>did</i> think she had + more sense than to—but I mustn't be too hard on her. I'm + afraid she's already beginning to think too much of—and + with my peculiar position with Miss TROTTER—(MAUD, that + is)—not that there's anything definite at present, + still—(<i>Aloud</i>.) Ahem, Miss PRENDERGAST—am I + standing as you wish? (<i>To himself</i>.) She doesn't + answer—too absorbed, and I can't hear that + idiot—found he hasn't scored so much after all, and gone + off in a huff, I expect. So much the better! What a time she is + over this, and how quiet she keeps! I wish I knew whether it + was coquetry or—shall I turn round and see? No, I must be + perfectly indifferent. And she <i>did</i> laugh at me. I + distinctly saw her. Still, if she's sorry, this would be an + excellent opportunity for—(<i>Aloud</i>.) Miss + PRENDERGAST! (<i>No reply—louder</i>.) May I take it that + you regret having been betrayed into momentary approbation of a + miserable piece of flippancy? If so, let me assure + you—(<i>Turns round—to discover that he is + addressing two little flaxen-haired girls in speckled + pinafores, who are regarding him open-mouthed</i>. Miss + PRENDERGAST <i>and</i> PODBURY <i>have disappeared</i>.) + PODBURY <i>again!</i> He must have planned this—with + <i>her</i>! It is too much. I have done—yes—done + with the pair of them! [<i>Strides off in bitter + indignation</i>.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>SCHOOL-BOY'S FIRST EXPERIENCE OF SMOKING.—One + sickarette,—and he never could do another. <i>O si sic + omnes</i>!</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page158" + id="page158"></a>[pg 158]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/158.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/158.png" + alt="LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE!" /></a> + + <h3>"LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE!"</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page159" + id="page159"></a>[pg 159]</span> + + <h3>"HOTEL ME, GENTLE STRANGER!"</h3> + + <p>[Mrs. WHEELER and Mrs. CUSTER, two literary ladies of New + York, are starting a hotel for women only.]</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Says Mrs. CUSTER to Mrs. WHEELER:</p> + + <p>"I propose we put out a 'promoting' feeler!"</p> + + <p>Says Mrs. WHEELER to Mrs. CUSTER,</p> + + <p>"Monopolist Males we shall greatly fluster;"</p> + + <p>'Hotel it not in Gath!' at present</p> + + <p>Till we have made things nice and pleasant.</p> + + <p>First rule—'No Rules!' O, of course male + noddies</p> + + <p>Will snigger at once, the superior bodies!</p> + + <p>But OSCAR WILDE must 'pull up his socks,'</p> + + <p>Ere he'll equal women at paradox.</p> + + <p>What I mean is this, in our 'Women's Hotel,'</p> + + <p>We'll have no such thing as the 'Curfew Bell,'</p> + + <p>And no fixed hour for the cry, 'Out lights!'</p> + + <p>We will give free way to true 'Woman's Rights,'</p> + + <p>Which are to thump, strum, tap, twirl, trill,</p> + + <p>From morn till night at her own sweet will.</p> + + <p>That's why we cherish, despite male spleen,</p> + + <p>Typewriter, Piano, and Sewing-Machine!</p> + + <p>The 'woodpecker tapping' is, indeed, not in it</p> + + <p>With Emancipate Woman—no, not for a + minute!</p> + + <p>Our Hotel will be, when we've won the battle,</p> + + <p>'The Paradise of unlimited Rattle,'</p> + + <p>'The Realm of the Spindle,' 'the Home of the + Duster!'"</p> + + <p>Says Mrs. WHEELER to Mrs. CUSTER.</p> + + <p>"Nought tabooed save Man! So comes Peace the + Healer!"</p> + + <p>Says Mrs. CUSTER to Mrs. WHEELER.</p> + + <p><i>Punch hopes</i> their Hotel may + flourish—only,</p> + + <p>Spots "Reserved for Ladies" are + often—lonely!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>THE GERMAN EMPEROR GOING NAP.—It now appears that the + words descriptive of NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE used by the German + Emperor, and to which the French took so strong an exception, + were not "<i>Le parvenu Corse</i>," but "<i>Le conquérant + Corse</i>," which, of course, makes all the difference. At this + banquet it would have been better had each course been omitted + from the <i>menu</i>.</p> + + <h4>A Vain Vaunt.</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>La belle France</i> boasts of being Art's true + henchman!</p> + + <p class="i2">That cosmopolitan claim she should be + mute on.</p> + + <p>"Art for Art's sake!" shouts the thrasonic + Frenchman,</p> + + <p class="i2">"Save when that Art is Teuton,"</p> + + <p>Though Art's not marred for him by subtle sin</p> + + <p>A German twang poisons e'en <i>Lohengrin</i>.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/159.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/159.png" + alt="INDISCRIMINATE CHARITY." /></a> + + <h3>INDISCRIMINATE CHARITY.</h3> + + <p><i>Benevolent Old Lady</i>. "NO, MR. SMITH; I SHALL NOT + CONTINUE MY SUBSCRIPTION TO YOUR CRICKET-GROUND ANY + LONGER—FOR I FIND YOU ALLOW IT TO BE USED IN THE + WINTER FOR PIGEON-SHOOTING!"</p> + + <p><i>Secretary to the Local Cricket Club</i>. "BUT, MADAM, + YOU CAN'T BE AWARE THAT WE SHOOT AT NOTHING BUT <i>CLAY + PIGEONS!</i>"</p> + + <p><i>B. O. L.</i> "I DON'T CARE <i>WHAT</i> THE BREED MAY + BE—IT'S EQUALLY CRUEL!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE ARMADA FROM THE SPANISH.</h2> + + <p class="center">(<i>Commenced by Mr. J.A. Froude and + concluded by the Duke of Medina Sidonia.</i>)</p> + + <p>It may be remembered that the English writer in <i>Longman's + Magazine</i>, had got to the point when after trying to get out + of the expedition by pleading poverty, incompetency, and + anything else I could think of, I was forced to go on my way to + England with apparent satisfaction. We had putrid pork and + mouldy biscuit, but still I informed the King that we were + "content and cheerful." Had I given him any other intelligence, + the chances are that he would have had my head—not a good + one, but sufficient to meet my modest requirements.</p> + + <p>Well, we sailed towards England, and as Mr. J.A. FROUDE has + already explained (quoting from my own letter to King PHILIP), + "knowing nothing of navigation," I soon made a bad shot. + Instead of going to Tilbury, I drifted towards Cronstadt, even + then a fortress of some consideration. I could tell you a great + deal more, were it not that I succumbed to sea-sickness and + gave up my command. The expedition was now, of course, + commanded by the steward, but the duties of his unpleasant + office left him but little time for directing an invasion. + Well, we got within reach of England when the wind began to + blow, and before I could hitch myself up with a marling-spike, + every man Jack of us was ready for Davy Jones's locker!</p> + + <p>But why should I dwell upon the events of the next few days? + We were out-manoeuvred and beaten. I myself took refuge in a + wood of mahogany trees, and it was my delight and my privilege + to supply the requirements of the British colony in all that + they desired. The result of this was that I and a few personal + friends took refuge in a forest in which mahogany trees + flourished. It was in this leafy prison that I supplied the + genuine old Armada mahogany "as advertised." I would be afraid + to say how many places I supplied with wood from the Armada. I + may hint that I know something of the tables at Westminster and + the benches of Gray's Inn. But there, that is many years ago, + and all I can say now is, "Heave away, boys," and "Three cheers + for the Don, the Keys, and the Donkey." I was the Don, the keys + were supplied to those who paid for them, and the donkeys could + defend themselves. The Armada was not a success, and after this + frank avowal, it seems to me that Mr. FROUDE need render no + further explanation. Surely the story of the Spanish Invasion + is copyright. And if it is, Mr. FROUDE has no right to tamper + with my work, the more especially as it is immediately + appropriated by that model of modern journalism the <i>Review + of Reviews</i>.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>PHILOSOPHICAL REFLECTION.—We have five senses. That's + quite enough. If we had a sixth sense, what a <i>new sense</i> + it would be!</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>"IN CELLAR DEEP."</h3> + + <p>(<i>Latest Up-to-Date Version of a celebrated Bacchanalian + ditty, as it might be revised by Dr. Mortimer Granville and Mr. + James Payn.</i>)</p> + + <p>["No one drinks alcoholic liquor (unless it be beer) to + quench thirst."—JAMES PAYN.]</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">In Cellar deep I sit and steep</p> + + <p class="i2">My soul in GRANVILLE'S logic.</p> + + <p>Companions mine, sound ale, good wine—</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>That</i> foils Teetotal + dodge—hic!</p> + + <p>With solemn pate our sages prate,</p> + + <p>The Pump-slaves neatly pinking.</p> + + <p>He's proved an ass, whose days <i>don't</i> pass</p> + + <p class="i4">In drinking, drinking, drinking!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>In water pure there's danger sure,</p> + + <p class="i2">All fizzle-pop's deceiving;</p> + + <p>And ginger-beer must make you queer</p> + + <p class="i2">(If GRANVILLE you're believing).</p> + + <p>Safe, on the whole, is Alcohol;</p> + + <p class="i2">It saves man's strength from sinking.</p> + + <p>I injure none, and have good f—fun.</p> + + <p class="i4">Whilst drinking, drinking, drinking!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Hic! Hic! Hooray!! New reasons gay</p> + + <p class="i2">For drink from doctors borrow!</p> + + <p>The last (<i>not</i> first) is simple thirst,</p> + + <p class="i2">Thatsh true—to LAWSON'S sorrow!</p> + + <p>Good Templarsh fain would "physic PAYN,"</p> + + <p class="i2">And GRANVILLE squelch like winking;</p> + + <p>But all the same, true + Wisdom's—hic—game</p> + + <p class="i4">Is drinking, drinking, drinking!</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p class="author">[<i>Left playing it</i>.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page160" + id="page160"></a>[pg 160]</span> + + <h2>MR. PUNCH'S NAVAL NOVEL.</h2> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Mr. Punch</i> has observed with much gratification + the success of various <i>brochures</i> professing to give, + under the disguise of retrospect, a prophetic but accurate + account of the naval battle of the immediate future. <i>Mr. + Punch</i> has read them carefully over and over again. For + some time he has been living, so to speak, in the midst of + magnificent iron-clad fleets. In vain have torpedoes been + launched on their occasionally death-dealing mission + against him, in vain have immense shells exploded in his + immediate neighbourhood. Nothing, not even the ramming of + one whole squadron by another, has succeeded in daunting + him. He has remained immovable in the midst of an appalling + explosion which reduced a ship's company to a heap of + toe-nails. And now, his mind fired by the crash of conflict + and the intoxication of almost universal slaughter, he + proposes to show the world how a naval novel that means to + be accurate as well as vivid, to be bought by the public in + thousands as well as to teach useful lessons to politicians + and sailors, ought really to be written. <i>Mr. Punch</i> + may as well state that he has <i>not</i> submitted this + story to any naval experts. His facts speak for themselves, + and require no merely professional approval to enhance + their value.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <h3>WHO'D BE A SAILOR?</h3> + + <h3>(<i>A Story of Blood and Battle</i>.)</h3> + + <h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + + <p>Listen, my Grandchildren! for you are mine, not indeed by + the ridiculous accident of birth (since to speak the truth I am + an unmarried old sea-dog), but by the far higher and more + honourable title of having been selected by me to hear this + yarn. You know well enough that such a tale <i>must</i> be told + to grandchildren, and since you undoubtedly possessed + grandparents, and have been hired at a shilling an hour to + listen to me, I have every right to address you as I did. + Therefore I say, my grandchildren, attend to what I am about to + relate. You who live under the beneficent sway of the mighty + Australo-Canado-Africo-Celto-Americo-Anglian Federation of + Commonwealths, can have no notion of the degraded conditions + under which I, your grandfather, and the rest of my miserable + fellow-countrymen lived fifty years ago in the year 1892. + Naturally you have read no books of history referring to any + date anterior to 1902. The wretched records of ignorance, + slavery and decrepitude have been justly expunged from your + curriculum. Let me tell you then that a little country calling + itself the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland at that + time arrogated to itself the leadership of the mighty countries + which you now call your home. You smile and refer me to a + large-sized map on which, as you justly observe, this country + occupies a space of not more than two square inches. Your + surprise is intelligible, but the melancholy fact remains. All + this has now been happily changed, and changed too in + consequence of a war in which England (for so the country was + often inaccurately called, except upon Scotch political + platforms, where people naturally objected to the name) in + which, as I say, England bore the chief part and obtained the + decisive victory. The story of this war I am now about to + relate to you.</p> + + <h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + + <p>War had been declared. We had known for a long time that it + was coming. For months past the bellicose bench of Bishops had + been preaching war in all the Cathedrals of the land. Field + Marshal the Duke of WOLSELEY, who was then a simple lord, had + written articles in all the prominent American reviews, and had + proved to demonstration that with 50,000 boys and the new + patent revolving ammunition belt, Britain (for that too was the + name of my late country) was ready to defy and conquer the + world. Rear-Admiral and Lieutenant-General Sir WILLIAM T. + STEAD, G.C.B., C.S.I., K.G., V.C.—the great journalist in + the shade of whose colossal mounted statue we are now + sitting—had suddenly become a convert to the doctrine + that war is the great purifier, and had offered in a spirit of + extraordinary self-abnegation to command both the Army and the + Fleet in action. Volunteer corps armed with scythes, + paper-knives, walking-sticks and umbrellas had sprung up all + over the country, and had provided their own uniforms and + equipment. Lord RANDOLPH CHURCHILL, father of the present Earl + of South Africa, had been recalled to office by an alarmed + country, and had united in his own person the offices of + Secretary of State for War, First Lord of the Admiralty, + Premier, Chancellor of the Exchequer and Lord Privy Seal. As a + first step towards restoring confidence, he had, with his own + hands, beheaded the former Prime Minister, the Marquis of + SALISBURY, and had published a cheap and popular edition of his + epoch-making Letters from Mashonaland. His Lordship's official + residence had been established at the Amphitryon Club where + they still preserve on constant relays of ice the <i>Bécassine + bardée aux truffes</i> which Lord RANDOLPH was about to eat + when he snubbed the united ambassadors of Germany, France, + Austria, Russia, Italy and the Republic of Andorra. The + immediate consequence was a declaration of war against us.</p> + + <h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/160-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/160-1.png" + alt="The Explosion. " /></a> The Explosion. + </div> + + <p>I was at that time in command of H.M.S. <i>Bandersnatch</i>, + a vessel of nine hundred thousand horse-power, and a mean + average displacement of four hundred thousand tons. Ah, the + dear old <i>Bandersnatch!</i> Never can I forget the thrill of + exquisite emotion which pervaded my inmost being as I stepped + on board in mid-ocean. Everything was in apple-pie order. + Bulkheads, girders, and beams shone like glass in the noonday + sun. The agile torpedo-catchers had been practising their + sports, and I could not resist a feeling of intense pride when + I learnt that only fifty of these heroic fellows had that + morning perished owing to the accidental explosion of one of + their charming playthings at the very crisis of the game. The + racers of the after-guns had been out for their morning's + exercise. Indeed the saddles had only just been removed, and + the noble animals were now enjoying a good square meal of corn + in their bombproof stable. Keep your animals in good fettle, + and they'll never shirk their work: that was always my motto, + and right well has it answered. The roaring furnaces, the + cylindrical boilers, the prisoned steam, the twin screws, the + steel shot that crashes like thunder, the fearful impact of the + ram, the blanching terror of the supreme moment, the shattered + limbs and scattered heads,—all these were ready, waiting + but for the pressure of my finger on the middle button of the + boatswain's mess-waistcoat to speed forth upon their deadly + work between the illustrated covers of a shilling pamphlet.</p> + + <h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + + <p>In another moment the enemy's fleet had hove in sight. Our + movements in the ten minutes preceding the fatal conflict will + be best understood by consulting the annexed + diagram:—</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/160-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/160-2.png" + alt="Sailor thumbing nose." /></a> + </div><p>We advanced in this imposing order for five minutes. Then + came a puff of smoke, and, in less time than it takes to tell + it, two thousand men had been literally blown into thin air, + their sole remnant being the left shoe of my trusty second in + command, Captain GLIMDOWSE. I trained the two turret-guns until + I had got them into perfect condition, and gave the word. The + crash that followed was terrific. One of the massive missiles + went home, and stayed there, no amount of inducement availing + to bring it out again to face the battle. The other, however, + behaved as a British missile should, and exploded in the heart + of the hostile fleet. The result was terrific. French, German + and Russian Admirals by the thousand were destroyed, their + scattered fragments literally darkening the face of the sun, + and a mixed shower of iron, steel, stanchions, bollards, + monster guns, Admirals, sailors, stewards, cocked-hats, and + Post Captains fell for ten minutes without intermission from + the clouds into which they had been driven by the awful + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page161" + id="page161"></a>[pg 161]</span> force of the explosion. I + turned to my Lieutenant, who was standing beside me, to give + a necessary order. As I was about to address him, the + machine-guns in the enemy's tops belched forth a myriad + projectiles, and the unfortunate Lieutenant was swept into + eternity. All that was left of him was his right hand, + which, curiously enough, remained for a minute suspended in + the air in its proper relative position to what had been the + Lieutenant's body. I mastered my emotion with an effort, as + I reverently grasped and shook the melancholy relic. Then, + shedding a silent tear, I dropped it over the side, and with + an aching heart, watched it disappear beneath the wave on + which many of its former owner's happiest hours had been + spent.</p> + + <h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> + + <p>This catastrophe ended the battle. The allied fleets had + been swept off the face of the ocean. I packed what remained of + H.M.S. <i>Bandersnatch</i> in my tobacco-pouch, attached myself + to a hen-coop, and thus floated triumphantly into Portsmouth + Harbour.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>CHARLEMAGNE AND I.</h2> + + <p><i>Aix-la-Chapelle, Monday</i>.—I have always had a + strange longing to know CHARLEMAGNE. To shake him by the hand, + to have opportunity of inquiring after his health and that of + his family, to hear his whispered reply—that indeed were + bliss. But CHARLEMAGNE is dead, and desire must be curbed. The + only thing open to an admirer is to visit the place of his last + repose, and brood in spots his shade may yet haunt. CHARLEMAGNE + was buried at Aix-la-Chapelle (German Aachen), but since my + arrival in the town, I find great difficulty in discovering his + tomb. The great soldier Emperor resembled an unfortunate and + unskilful pickpocket in one respect. He was always being taken + up. He died in the year 814, and was left undisturbed till the + year 1000, when the Emperor OTTO THE THIRD opened his tomb, + and, finding his great predecessor sitting on a marble chair, + helped him down. The marble chair is on view in the Cathedral + to this day (verger, I mark) to witness to the truth of this + narrative. One hundred and sixty-five years later, FREDERICK + BARBAROSSA opened the second tomb where OTHO had placed C., and + transferred to a marble sarcophagus what, at this date, was + left of him. In the following century C. was canonised. + Whereupon nothing would satisfy FREDERICK THE SECOND but to go + for the bones again. They were now growing scarce, and only a + few fragments fill the reliquary in which at length all that is + left of my revered friend (if after this lapse of time I may + call him so) reposes.</p> + + <p>I have been fortunate in securing a relic, not exactly of + CAROLO, but of the time at or about which he lived. It is a + piece of tapestry, on which fingers long since dust have worked + a sketch of the Emperor going to his bath. Considering its age, + the tapestry is in remarkably fresh condition. The old Hebrew + trader, whom for a consideration I induced to part with it, + said he would not charge any more on that account; which I + thought very considerate. He also said he might be able to get + me some more pieces. But this, I think, will do to go on + with.</p> + + <p>But if there be nothing left of CAROLO MAGNO, there still is + the city he loved, in which he lived and died. Here is the + Kaiserquelle, bubbling out of Büchel in which, centuries ago, + he laved his lordly limbs. Going down into my bath this morning + I observed in the dim light the imprint of a footstep on the + marble stair.</p> + + <p>"That might have been CHARLEMAGNE'S," I said to YAHKOB, my + bath attendant.</p> + + <p>"<i>Ja wohl</i>," said YAHKOB, nodding in his friendly way, + and, going out, he presently returned with a hot towel.</p> + + <p>That did not seem to follow naturally upon my observation, + which was, indeed, born of idle fancy. (I know very well C.'s + death eventuated long prior to the building of the stately + colonnade that fronts the present baths, and that therefore the + footprint is illusory.) I am growing used to a certain + irrelevancy in YAHKOB's conversation. My German is of the date + of CHARLEMAGNE, and is no more understood here than is the + Greek of SOCRATES in the streets of Athens. YAHKOB was + especially told off for my service because he thoroughly + understood and talked English. He says, "Ye-es" and "Ver well." + But when I offer a chance remark he, three times out of five, + nods intelligently, bolts off and brings me something + back—a comb and brush, a newspaper, but oftenest, a hot + towel. Once, when I asked him whether there were two posts a + day to London, he lugged in an arm-chair.</p> + + <p>I get on better with WILLIAM. WILLIAM is a rubber—not + of whist, <i>bien entendu</i>, but of men. In build WILLIAM is + pear-shaped, the upper part of him, where you would expect to + find the stalk, broadening out into a perpetual smile. He has + lived in the Baths twenty-three years, and yet his gaiety is + not eclipsed. If he has a foible it is his belief that he + thoroughly understands London and its ways.</p> + + <p>"A ver big place," he remarked this morning, "where dey + kills de ladees."</p> + + <p>This reference not being immediately clear, WILLIAM assisted + dull comprehension by drawing his finger across his throat, and + uttering a jovial "click!" But it was only when, his eyes + brimming over with fun, he said, "YAK de Reeper," that I + followed the drift of his remark.</p> + + <p>It is gratifying to the citizen of London travelling abroad, + to learn that in the mind of the foreigner the great Metropolis + is primarily and chiefly associated with "JACK the Ripper" and + his exploits.</p> + + <p>"I rob you not hard," WILLIAM incidentally remarks, pounding + at your chest as if it were a parquet flooring he was + polishing; "but I strong so I can break a shentleman's + ribs."</p> + + <p>I make due acknowledgment of the prowess, being particularly + careful to refrain from expressing doubt, or even surprise. + WILLIAM, always smiling, repeats the assertion just as if I had + contradicted him. Try to change subject.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/161.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/161.png" + alt="I would break hees ribs!" /></a> "I would break hees ribs!" + </div> + + <p>"I wonder if CHARLEMAGNE had a massage man in his suite?" I + say, "and who was his Doctor? Now if he had had Dr. BRANDIS, I + believe he would have been alive at this day. But we cannot + have everything. CHARLEMAGNE had the Iron Crown of Lombardy; we + have Dr. BRANDIS."</p> + + <p>"Y e e s," said WILLIAM, still gloating over his own train + of thought; "eef I like I break a shentleman's ribs."</p> + + <p>Sometimes WILLIAM'S smile, contracting, breaks into a + whistle, horribly out of tune. He rather fancies his musical + powers, and is proud of his intimate acquaintance with the + fashionable <i>chansons</i> current in London to-day, or as he + puts it, "Vat dey shings at de Carrelton Clob." Then he warbles + a line of the happily long-forgotten "Champagne CHARLIE," with + intervals of "Oh what a surprise!" He sings both to the same + tune, and fortunately knows only two lines of one and a single + line of the other.</p> + + <p>Try to bring him back to CAROLO MAGNO.</p> + + <p>"Wouldn't you," I ask "give all you are worth to have lived + in the time of CHARLEMAGNE? Suppose some day you walked into + this room and discovered him sitting on his marble throne as + OTHO found him with the Iron Crown on his head and his right + hand grasping the imperial sceptre, what would you do?"</p> + + <p>"I would break hees ribs," said WILLIAM, his face illumined + by a sudden flash of delighted anticipation.</p> + + <p>Alack! we are thinking of two personages sundered by + centuries. My mind dwells on CHARLEMAGNE, whilst WILLIAM is + evidently thinking of Champagne CHARLIE.</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>"ANNALS OF A VERY QUIET FAMILY."</h3> + + <p>There were eight of us, each within a year or so of one + another.</p> + + <p>Father was a very quiet man, engaged all day in his + study.</p> + + <p>Mother was equally quiet.</p> + + <p>Father would never allow a trumpet, drum, or any instrument + of torture, except the piano, to be brought into the house.</p> + + <p>Mother quietly saw his orders carried out.</p> + + <p>In due course we all left home one after the other, and + having been so quiet for so long, each one of us has contrived + to make a considerable noise in the world since, and are all + doing well. "Doing" may be used in the widest possible sense. + Among other accomplishments we blow our own trumpets, as you + see. As father and mother object to noise, we have not + encouraged their visits.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page162" + id="page162"></a>[pg 162]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/162.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/162.png" + alt="DEA EX MACHINÂ!" /></a> + + <h3>DEA EX MACHINÂ!</h3>(<i>A Reminiscence</i>.) + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>"AS <i>HE</i>'D LIKE IT."</h2> + + <p class="center">(<i>Shakspeare once more freely adapted to + the situation.</i>)</p> + + <blockquote> + ["We wanted, and we want, to do for the villages, what the + first reformed Parliament did in conferring municipal + government upon the towns. We knew that the Tory Party did + not really mean to give us village or parish Councils.... + 'The Radical agitators,' says Sir MICHAEL HICKS-BEACH, + 'want to see a complete change in the social condition of + rural society.' What if we do?... Why, it was for this that + many of us, seven or eight years ago, and many more years + ago, fought for getting the labourer a vote."—<i>Mr. + John Morley at Cambridge</i>.] + </blockquote> + + <p class="center">SCENE—<i>The Forest of + Ha</i>(<i>w</i>)<i>arden</i>.</p> + + <p><i>Touchstone</i> (Mr. J-HN M-RL-Y); <i>Audrey</i>, (The + Agricultural Vote); <i>Jaques</i> (Mr. P-NCH), behind. + Afterwards <i>William</i> (Sir M-CH-L H-CKS-B-CH.)</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Come apace, good AUDREY: I will fetch up your + votes, AUDREY. And how, AUDREY?—am I the man yet? Doth my + simple programme content you?</p> + + <p><i>Audrey.</i> Your programme! Lord warrant us, what + programme?</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> I am here with thee and thy Votes as the + glittering poet-god Apollo was among the herds of Admetus.</p> + + <p><i>Jaq.</i> (<i>aside</i>). Oh, knowledge oddly applied! + Fancy Olympian Oracles in a thatched cottage!</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> When a man's speeches cannot be understood, + nor a man's good platform wit seconded by the froward child + popular understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a small + minority on a big Bill. Truly, I would the gods had made thee + political.</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> I do not know what political is. Is it honest in + deed and word? Is it a true thing?</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> (<i>with sardonic frankness</i>). No, truly; + for the truest politics show the most feigning; and Tories are + given to politics; and what they swear, in politics, may be + said, as Tories, they do feign.</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> Do you wish, then, that the gods had made + <i>me</i> political?</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> I do, truly; for they swear to me thou art + true Tory, parson-and-squire-ridden Tory. Now, if thou wert + political, I might have some hope thou didst feign—to + <i>them</i>!</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> Would you not have me Tory?</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> No, truly, unless thou wert fortune-favoured; + for Toryism coupled to poverty is to have folly a sauce to + misery.</p> + + <p><i>Jaq.</i> (<i>aside</i>). A shrewd fool!</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> Well, I am not rich; and therefore I pray the + gods to make me Liberal.</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Truly, and to cast away Liberalism upon a + willingly "unemancipated" Voter, were to deck a porker with + pearls.</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> I may not be "emancipated," but I thank the gods + I am "enfranchised."</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Well, praised be the Liberals for thine + enfranchisement! Emancipation—from "squarsonry"—may + come hereafter. But, be it as it may, I will marry thee.</p> + + <p><i>Jaq.</i> (<i>aside</i>). I would fain see this wedding. + Methinks there will be sport forward ere it be fully + achieved.</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> Well, the gods give us joy!</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Amen.... But, AUDREY, there is a youth here in + the forest lays claim to you.</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> Ay, I know who 'tis: he hath no interest in me + in the world. Here comes the man you mean.</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> It is meat and drink to me to see + a—Tory: by my troth, we that have good wits have much to + answer for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold.</p> + + <p class="center"><i>Enter</i> WILLIAM.</p> + + <p><i>Will.</i> Good even, AUDREY.</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> Give ye good even, WILLIAM.</p> + + <p><i>Will.</i> And good even to you, Sir!</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Good even, gentle friend.... Art thou + wise?</p> + + <p><i>Will.</i> Ay, Sir, I have a pretty wit.</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> You do desire this maid?</p> + + <p><i>Will.</i> I do, Sir.</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Give me your hand. Art thou learned?</p> + + <p><i>Will.</i> No, Sir.</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Then learn this of me; to have is to have; for + it is a great figure in Gladstonian rhetoric, that votes being + deducted from one Party and added to another, by putting the + one Out do put the other In; for all your writers do consent + that <i>ipse</i> is he: now you are not <i>ipse</i>, for I am + he.</p> + + <p><i>Will.</i> Which he, Sir?</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> He, Sir, that must marry the woman. Therefore, + you Tory, abandon—which is, in the vulgar, + leave—the society, which in the boorish is, + company—of this female,—which in the common is, + woman; which together is, abandon the society of this female, + or Tory, thou vanishest; or, to thy better understanding, + skedaddlest; or, to wit, I defeat thee, make thee away, + translate thy majority into minority, thine Office into + Opposition; I will deal in programmes with thee, or in + eloquence, or in epigram; I will bandy with thee in faction; I + will o'errun thee with policy; I will "mend thee or end thee" a + hundred and fifty ways; therefore, tremble, and depart!</p> + + <p class="center">SONG (<i>behind</i>).</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It was a lover and his lass,</p> + + <p class="i2">With a hey, and a ho, and a hey + nonino,</p><!--page 164 blank page--> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page165" + id="page165"></a>[pg 165]</span> + + <p>That o'er the stubble fields did pass</p> + + <p class="i2">(Together WILL caught 'em).</p> + + <p class="i2">In the time of autumn,</p> + + <p>When M.P.'s spout, and "manoeuvre" about;</p> + + <p class="i2">M.P.'s (who are "out") love autumn.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>About three acres and a cow,</p> + + <p class="i2">With a hey, and a ho, and a hey + nonino;</p> + + <p>The artful country folks know now.</p> + + <p class="i2">In the time of autumn, &c.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Since that the franchise was their dower,</p> + + <p class="i2">With a hey, and a ho, and a hey + nonino,</p> + + <p>The Country Voters are a power.</p> + + <p class="i2">In the time of autumn, &c.</p> + </div> + + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And, therefore, at the present time,</p> + + <p class="i2">With "an Agricultural + Policy"—funny, ho!—</p> + + <p><i>Both</i> Parties simple HODGE would lime,</p> + + <p class="i2">In the time of autumn, &c.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p><i>Will.</i> (<i>aside</i>). Truly, though there is no great + matter in the ditty, yet the note is very untuneable.</p> + + <p class="author">[<i>Exit.</i></p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Trip, AUDREY, trip, AUDREY,—I + attend,—I attend!</p> + + <p class="author">[<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + + <p><i>Jaq.</i> (<i>appearing</i>). There is surely another + political deluge forward, and these motley would-be couples are + seeking the official ark!</p> + + <p class="author">[<i>Exit.</i></p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page163" + id="page163"></a>[pg 163]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/163.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/163.png" + alt="William, Touchstone and Audrey." /></a> + + <p><i>William</i>. . . SIR M-CH-L H-CKS-B-CH. + <i>Touchstone</i>. . . J-HN M-RL-Y. <i>Audrey</i>. . . THE + AGRICULTURAL VOTE.</p> + + <h4>"AS <i>HE</i>'D LIKE IT."</h4>SCENE—<i>The Forest + of Ha(w)arden.</i> + + <p>TOUCHSTONE. "I AM HE THAT MUST MARRY THIS WOMAN! + THEREFORE, YOU CLOWN, ABANDON THE SOCIETY OF THIS + FEMALE;... I WILL BANDY WITH THEE IN FACTION; I WILL + O'ERRUN THEE WITH POLICY; THEREFORE, TREMBLE, AND + DEPART!"—<i>As You Like It</i>, Act V., Scene 1.</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE TRUE TENNYSON.</h2> + + <p>We have all been startled to find from the researches of Mr. + WOODALL in <i>Notes and Queries</i>, that "Between the story + sung by the Poet Laureate in his romantic poem <i>The Lord of + Burleigh</i>, and the actual fact, there seems to be little in + common." HENRY CECIL, Earl and afterwards Marquis of EXETER, + married Miss SARAH HOGGINS under the name of JOHN JONES, having + a wife alive at the time, and she did not die as the poem + relates. It is obvious then that TENNYSON must be re-written, + and we offer his Lordship the following humble suggestions. + <i>The Lord of Burleigh</i> should henceforward run somewhat as + follows:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Quoth he, "Gentle SARAH HOGGINS,"</p> + + <p class="i2">Speaking in seductive tones,</p> + + <p>"You must wed no HODGE or SCROGGINS,</p> + + <p class="i2">But espouse your own J. JONES."</p> + + <p>Oh! he was an artful party,</p> + + <p class="i2">And that marriage was a crime.</p> + + <p>He'd a wife alive and hearty,</p> + + <p class="i2">Though she'd left him for a time.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>The above discovery has, of course, led to doubts regarding + other Tennysonian heroines. Was Lady CLARA VERE DE VERE, for + example, as black as the poet has painted her? Perish the + thought! Here are a couple of specimen stanzas for an amended + version:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Lady CLARA VERE DE VERE,</p> + + <p class="i2">I vow that you were not a flirt,</p> + + <p>The daughter of a hundred Earls</p> + + <p class="i2">Would not a single creature hurt.</p> + + <p>"Kind hearts are more than coronets,"</p> + + <p class="i2">What abject twaddle, on my word;</p> + + <p>And then the joke is in the end,—</p> + + <p class="i2">We know they made the bard a Lord.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The tale of how young LAURENCE died,</p> + + <p class="i2">In some audacious print began;</p> + + <p>The fact is that he took to drink,</p> + + <p class="i2">He always was that sort of man.</p> + + <p>And as for ALFRED, why, of course</p> + + <p class="i2">You snubbed him; but was that a + crime,</p> + + <p>That he should go and call you names,</p> + + <p class="i2">And print his atrabilious rhyme?</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>Then, again, was the <i>Amy</i> of <i>Locksley Hall</i> + quite as shallow-hearted and so forth as the angry rhymester + declares? It will probably turn out that she was not. Hence the + verses should run in this fashion:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And I said, "My Cousin AMY, speak the truth, my + heart to ease.</p> + + <p>Shall it be by banns or license?" And she whispered, + "Which you please."</p> + + <p>Love took up the glass of Time and waved it gaily in + the air,</p> + + <p>Married life was sweet at Number Twenty-Six in + Camden Square.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMY faithless! Bless your heart, Sir, that was not + the case at all:</p> + + <p>It was pure imagination that I wrote in Locksley + Hall.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>This process will doubtless have to be applied to many of + the poems, but we must leave the congenial task to the + Laureate.</p> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/165.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/165.png" + alt="THEY'VE BOILED THE PORCELAIN NEST-EGG!" /></a> + + <p><i>George</i> (<i>about to enjoy the first new-laid Egg + from the recently set-up Fowl-house</i>). + "WHY—CONF—THEY'VE BOILED THE PORCELAIN + NEST-EGG!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>A SONNET OF VAIN DESIRE.</h3> + + <h4>AFTER THE HOLIDAYS.</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>As when th' industrious windmill vainly yearns</p> + + <p class="i2">To pause, and scratch its swallow-haunted + head,</p> + + <p>Yet at the wind's relentless urging turns</p> + + <p class="i2">Its flying arms in wild appeal + outspread;</p> + + <p>So am I vex'd by vain desire, that burns</p> + + <p class="i2">These barren places whence the hair hath + fled,</p> + + <p>To wander far amid the woodland ferns,</p> + + <p class="i2">Where dewdrops shine along the gossamer + thread;</p> + + <p>Where its own sunlight on the reddening leaf</p> + + <p class="i2">Sleeps, when soft mists have swathed the + sunless tree,</p> + + <p>Or where the innumerous billows merrily dance;</p> + + <p>Yet must I busily dissemble grief</p> + + <p>Whirl'd in the pitiless round of circumstance,</p> + + <p class="i2">Rigid with trained respectability.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h4>New Way out of a Wager.</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DESMOND, Theosophist Colonel, now thinks better</p> + + <p class="i2">Of his rash vow his gift to + "demonstrate,"</p> + + <p>Receiving a "precipitated letter"</p> + + <p class="i2">Warning him not to + be—precipitate.</p> + + <p>Many a Betting Man who'd hedge or tack</p> + + <p>Must wish he had Mahatmas at <i>his</i> back.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h4>The Beggar's Petition.</h4> + + <p class="center">(<i>New Version</i>.)</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Life must not be lost, Sir, with lightness,</p> + + <p class="i2">To <i>labour</i> for life gives me + pain;</p> + + <p>My exchequer's affected with tightness,</p> + + <p>But begging's the pink of politeness,</p> + + <p class="i2">Like Scribes, Sir, "I beg—to + <i>remain!</i>" *</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>* And didn't CHARLES LAMB, in his most delightful essay + <i>On the Decay of Beggars</i>, deplore their gradual + disappearance?</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>DOCTOR LAURIE.</h3> + + <p><i>Song by a Scotch Student</i>. AIR—"<i>Annie + Laurie</i>."</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>["According to Dr. LAURIE, of Edinburgh University, the + "teaching of Greek, so far as it is attempted in our + secondary schools, is positively harmful."—<i>Daily + News</i>.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Pedagogue brays are bonnie,</p> + + <p class="i2">When Greek they'd fain taboo;</p> + + <p>And 'tis here that Doctor LAURIE</p> + + <p class="i2">Gi'es utterance strictly true,</p> + + <p class="i2">Gi'es utterance strictly true,</p> + + <p class="i2">Which ne'er forgot should be,</p> + + <p>And for bonnie Doctor LAURIE,</p> + + <p class="i2">A Scottish boy would dee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Auld HOMER is a humbug,</p> + + <p class="i2">ANACREON is an ass;</p> + + <p>Sumphs scrape enoo o' baith o' them,</p> + + <p class="i2">The "Little-go" to pass,</p> + + <p class="i2">The Little-go to pass—</p> + + <p class="i2">It affects them "harmfullee."</p> + + <p>Ah! but bonnie Doctor LAURIE,</p> + + <p class="i2">He kens Greek's a' my ee!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Like diplomas fause and lying,</p> + + <p class="i2">Are "passes" such as this.</p> + + <p>Why should Scotch lads sit sighing</p> + + <p class="i2">O'er the <i>Anabasis</i>?—</p> + + <p class="i2">O'er the <i>Anabasis</i>?</p> + + <p class="i2">XENOPHON's fiddle-de-dee?</p> + + <p>Oh, for bonnie Doctor LAURIE,</p> + + <p>I'd shout with three times three!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>UNDER-LYNE'D.—Said Sir W. VERNON HARCOURT, at + Ashton-under-Lyne, "I am very glad to be enabled to come here + from the hospitable roof of Mr. RUPERT MASON." ... And again, + "I have come here also from the roof of Mr. MATHER." Quite a + Sir WILLIAM ROOFUS! But what was he doing on the roof? Was + there a tile off in each case? Something wrong with the first + house that a Mason couldn't set right? And with the second, did + Sir ROOFUS sing, "Oh dear, what can the Mather be?" And why the + invidious distinction between the two roofs? The first being + hospitable, and the second having no pleasant epithet to + recommend it.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>PROPOSED NEW TITLE FOR LORD GR-M-TH-RPE.—Baron + (H)ALTER EGO.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page166" + id="page166"></a>[pg 166]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/166.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/166.png" + alt="A LANCASHIRE WATERING-PLACE." /></a> + + <h3>A LANCASHIRE WATERING-PLACE.</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page167" + id="page167"></a>[pg 167]</span> + + <h3>POPULAR SONGS RE-SUNG;</h3> + + <h4>OR, MISS BOWDLER AT THE MUSIC HALLS.</h4> + + <h4>INTRODUCTORY.</h4> + + <p>DEAR MR. PUNCH,</p> + + <p>In these progressive days earnest reformers, especially + those of the London County Council type, yearn to chasten and + æstheticise the Muse of the Music Hall, who is perhaps the only + really popular Muse of the period. My name gives me a sort of + hereditary right to take exceptional interest in such matters, + though indeed my respected, and respectable, ancestor is not in + all things the model of his more catholic and cosmopolitan + descendant. The McDougall regimen would doubtless be a little + <i>too</i> drastic. To improve the Music-hall Song off the face + of the earth, is an attempt which could only suggest itself to + puritan fanaticism in its most arbitrary administrative form. + The proletariat will not "willingly let die" the only Muse + whose ministrations really "come home to its business and its + bosom." No, Sir, the People's Pegasus cannot, must not be + ruthlessly consigned to the knackers. But may it not be gently + bitted, discreetly bridled, and taught to trot or amble with + park-hack paces in the harness of Respectability?</p> + + <p>It is in this hope and faith that the following drawing-room + versions of some of "the most popular Comic (and Sentimental) + Songs of the Day" have been attempted by</p> + + <blockquote> + Your respectful admirer,<br /> + VIRGINIA BOWDLER. + </blockquote> + + <p>To the Respectable Citizen, the Moral Matron, and the Young + Person, with a love of larkiness and lilt, but a distrust of + politics, pugilism, and deep potations, the following eclectic + adaptation of this prodigiously popular ballad may perhaps be + not altogether unwelcome.</p> + + <p>No. I.—TWO LOVELY BROWN EYES,</p> + + <p>AIR—"<i>Two Lovely Black Eyes</i>".</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Strolling one Sunday near Bethnal Green,</p> + + <p>This "æsthete" you might have seen,</p> + + <p>Surveying "the People" with scornful spleen</p> + + <p class="i4">When, oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p>An Art Exhibition I chanced to see,</p> + + <p>Therein I entered right speed-i-lee,</p> + + <p>When—on a canvas—there shone on me</p> + + <p class="i4">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">Smiling right down on a dingy throng,</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>From a canvas of "High Art" sort they shone,</p> + + <p>Their owner was cinctured with classic zone,</p> + + <p>She was spare of flesh, she was big in bone,</p> + + <p class="i4">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p>A parson, whom everyone owned "a good sort,"</p> + + <p>Had hung them there for the pleasure and sport</p> + + <p>Of the dreary dwellers in slum and court,</p> + + <p class="i4">Those lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">Drawing the gaze of an East-End + crowd,</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>My own regard, as I loitered there,</p> + + <p>Fastened on one proletariat pair,</p> + + <p>With finery frowsy, and oily hair;</p> + + <p class="i4">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p>"SALLIE" and "BILL" were the names they flung</p> + + <p>Frankly abroad with unreticent tongue,</p> + + <p>Lounging and staring where graciously hung</p> + + <p class="i4">Those lovely brown eyes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh. what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">SALLIE and BILL your calm beauty could + thrill;</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Art (so I argue) for all is best,</p> + + <p>Here, in the East, on the Day of Rest,</p> + + <p>Lo! my pet theory put to the test!</p> + + <p class="i4">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p>The chap staring there is a Coster true,</p> + + <p>Trowsered in corduroy, belchered in blue;</p> + + <p>What does <i>he</i> think of your heavenly hue,</p> + + <p class="i4">Two lovely brown eyes?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">"SALLIE", he whispered, "<i>she's</i> + got, like <i>you</i>,</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:30%;"> + <a href="images/167.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/167.png" + alt="Bill and Sallie" /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The picture was one of BURNE-JONES'S best;</p> + + <p>"SALLIE" was snub-nosed and showily drest;</p> + + <p>I sought her visage in querulous quest,</p> + + <p class="i4">When oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p>Plump in the midst of a "puddingy" face,</p> + + <p>Coarse-cut in feature, devoid of grace,</p> + + <p>Nature capricious had chosen to place</p> + + <p class="i4">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">There on each side of a salient + "snub,"</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Brown? Ah, yes! But, alack! alack!</p> + + <p>The brown was fringed with a halo of + <i>black</i>,</p> + + <p>Fruit, it was plain of some marital thwack,</p> + + <p class="i4">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p>"<i>She</i>," sighed the girl, "has a beautiful + chump,</p> + + <p>Though she <i>do</i> seem to 'ave got the 'ump.</p> + + <p><i>Them</i> pair o' lamps never felt a thump,</p> + + <p class="i4"><i>Them</i> lovely brown eyes!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">Something seemed telling that man he was + wrong,</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Say, was it fancy? I saw a flush</p> + + <p>O'er the coarse cheeks of that Coster rush,</p> + + <p>"Stash it!" he murmured. A Coster blush?</p> + + <p class="i4">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p>SALLIE,—she clung to his muscular + arm—</p> + + <p>With a look half lovingness, half alarm,</p> + + <p>He stooped and—kissed her! Now, was it + <i>your</i> charm,</p> + + <p class="i4">Two lovely brown eyes?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">Was it your influence, gentle yet + strong,</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"BILL," whispered she, "you may bet two <i>d</i></p> + + <p><i>She</i> never nagged at 'er bloke—like + <i>me</i>—</p> + + <p class="i4">He never wheeled a whelk-barrer, d'yer + see?</p> + + <p class="i6">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">Parties with cultcher and piles + o'cash</p> + + <p class="i4">Ain't no temptation to row or bash,</p> + + <p class="i4">But—who's to tell but she's jilted + '<i>er</i> mash—</p> + + <p class="i6">Miss Lovely Brown Heyes?"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">Twinkled like stars 'twixt a tear and a + frown,</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The moral you've caught I can hardly doubt;</p> + + <p>On Art <i>versus</i> Morals men sneer or shout,</p> + + <p>Leave it to OSCAR to fight <i>that</i> out,</p> + + <p class="i4">If you would be wise.</p> + + <p>Better, far better, it is to let</p> + + <p>Beautiful things work their way—you bet!</p> + + <p>Then the Coster's wife may less frequently wet</p> + + <p class="i4"><i>Her</i> lovely brown eyes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">Art-loving-Man is <i>less</i> likely to + black</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>MEN OF THE PAST.</h3> + + <h4>(COMPILED BY <i>THE</i> MAN OF THE PRESENT.)</h4> + + <p>CROMWELL.—An English Brewer. Uncertain about his + aspirates. Distinctly vulgar. Face disfigured by warts.</p> + + <p>PETER THE GREAT.—Quite a common sort of Russian. Man + with coarse tastes. Came to England to learn ship-building. + Fond of low society; in fact, the type of an enterprising + cad.</p> + + <p>WASHINGTON.—Entirely provincial English rebel, who + caused considerable trouble in America. Family fair, but not to + be traced beyond three generations. Used to eat peas with his + knife.</p> + + <p>HANNIBAL.—Brutal barbarian. Feeblest ideas of stategy. + Went the wrong way over the Alps. Given to oaths from childhood + up. Quite a classical nobody.</p> + + <p>BUONAPARTE.—A Corsican <i>Parvenu</i>.</p> + <hr class="short" /> + + <h4>The Garrick School.</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>School for young actors is the Garrick + Playhouse.</p> + + <p>Upon the road to fame a quarter-way house</p> + + <p>For IRVING <i>fils</i>. And likewise note we + there</p> + + <p>The heir apparent of a parent HARE.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p>"<i>DIO, age</i>!" of which the classic American translation + is, "Do tell!"</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page168" + id="page168"></a>[pg 168]</span> + + <h2>JOURNAL OF A ROLLING STONE.</h2> + + <h3>NINTH ENTRY.</h3> + + <p>Curious thing, now that I am installed as a pupil in + FIBBINS'S Chambers in Waste Paper Buildings, Temple, how few + <i>new</i> briefs I am given to read. Usual routine is for DICK + FIBBINS to hand me a brief on which the dust of ages has + collected, and to leave me to "get up the law about it"; but + when he (FIBBINS) comes back from his day's business in Court, + about 4·30 P.M., he doesn't seem to care a bit to know what the + law is. Seems tired, and prefers to gossip and smoke; so I do + the same, or "follow on the same side," as he expresses it.</p> + + <p>"It strikes me forcibly," I begin, "that the Plaintiff, + SMITHERS, in that running-down case you asked me to read + to-day, hasn't got the ghost of a chance. Why, in + <i>Blatherson</i> v. <i>Snipe</i>, the Court ruled—"</p> + + <p>"Tried the lawn-tennis in the gardens yet?" FIBBINS + interrupts, in the rudest possible manner.</p> + + <p>"No," I reply, "I was speaking of the Court, not lawn-tennis + courts." (One for FIBBINS, I think.) "All the Judges held in + <i>Blatherson</i> v. <i>Snipe</i>, that—"</p> + + <p>"Oh, did they?" he interrupts again: "doosid interesting. + Was I for plaintiff or defendant?"</p> + + <p>"Plaintiff, SMITHERS. A running-down case."</p> + + <p>"Wish it had been a running-up case—a case of + running-up the fees," he laughs. Then, resuming a more + professional style, "You see, I've had such multitudes of cases + since then, that I've forgotten the precise details. But you + write out your own Opinion—not to-day; tomorrow will do. + Then I'll see what it's like. Now let's go a trot down the + Strand."</p> + + <p>Another circumstance that strikes me as remarkable, is the + frequency with which I hear the Impressive Clerk (in the little + room next to mine) requesting persons who have called to + "settle up that other little matter." Then the strange voice + laughs, and says—"Oh, your Governor can wait." "No, he + can't,"—it's the Clerk who says this—"it's been + going on for three years, now." "Well," chimes in the unknown, + "let it go a bit longer. When'll your Governor have settled + those pleadings?" "When your people settle about the five + guineas, and not before," replies the Impressive Clerk in his + best Parliamentary debating style. Then follows a long wrangle, + not on law, but on finance, which never—as far as I can + judge—ends in the Clerk getting his way, and his + money.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/168.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/168.png" + alt="Looks like a Prime Minister in reduced circumstances." /> + </a> "Looks like a Prime Minister in reduced + circumstances." + </div> + + <p>Astonishing event happens. A real live new brief comes in! + Impressive Clerk—who looks like a Prime Minister in + reduced circumstances—brings it to FIBBINS when I am in + the room. More impressive than ever. "From ROGERS, in Chancery + Lane—an excellent firm, Sir," he says. Poor FIBBINS + tries, ineffectually, to conceal his delight, and his eye turns + instinctively to the place where the fee is marked.</p> + + <p>"Six guas" (legal slang for guineas) "for an Opinion, not + bad," he comments, rubbing his hands. FIBBINS dusts a corner of + his desk, and lays it down there.</p> + + <p><i>I</i> am given this precious brief, and am asked to write + a "draft Opinion" about it! "Just to try your hand," says + FIBBINS, who does not wish me to be conceited. "Then I'll write + my own afterwards," he adds.</p> + + <p>I make a very elaborate commentary, quoting from innumerable + parallel cases in English, American, and Roman law, and, after + giving it to DICK FIBBINS to read, I don't see it again.</p> + + <p>But, a few afternoons later, when Impressive Clerk happens + to be out, a knock comes. Nobody in. At last, go myself + (<i>Query</i>—infra dig.?) and open door.</p> + + <p>"Here!" says a juvenile, who apparently mistakes me for the + Clerk, and rudely chucks some papers to me, which hit me in the + chest, "give these to your Governor. What a time you take + answering a knock! Having a nap, hay? Take care old FIBBINS + don't catch you at it, that's all!" Juvenile disappears + downstairs, whistling, before I can think of a suitable + rejoinder.</p> + + <p>Open the papers. The same brief returned with request to + "draw up a Statement of Claim,"—and my "Opinion" inside! + It looks as if DICK sent these clients of his <i>my</i> + valuable advice, pretending that it was his own!</p> + + <p>My learned "leader," when he comes in, treats affair very + coolly.</p> + + <p>"Oh, did I send <i>your</i> 'Opinion' to them as well as + mine? What an ass I am! I wonder what they thought of it?"</p> + + <p>I also wonder. In looking over the returned brief just now, + however, I certainly did not come across the "Opinion," + manufactured by FIBBINS himself, of which that learned Counsel + spoke. And I have no second chance of examining it, as he is + careful to take "all the documents in the case" (a phrase of + the Impressive Clerk's) home with him, for what he calls + re-perusal.</p> + + <p>The conviction that it <i>was</i> my Opinion, and mine + alone, which FIBBINS dispatched, probably out of sheer + laziness, to ROGERS & CO., Solicitors, Chancery Lane, is + one that I still retain. But it is FIBBINS who retains the + fee!</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>AT THE CLOSE OF THE SUMMER.</h3> + + <p class="center">(<i>By one who idled. To his Lady-help.</i>)</p> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I am back at my work, which is far from exciting</p> + + <p class="i2">After nothing to do for a month at a + time,</p> + + <p>So I am not astonished to find myself writing</p> + + <p class="i2">To you, dear MELENDA, and writing in + rhyme.</p> + + <p>In my rooms very often the scent of the heather</p> + + <p class="i2">Brings back with it sweet recollections, + and so</p> + + <p>I think of the days when we idled together,</p> + + <p class="i2">Far away in the country a fortnight + ago.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Yes, the two afternoons when, although we were + sorry</p> + + <p class="i2">That it rained, we went out as to do we + had vowed,</p> + + <p>And the wonderful echo we found in a quarry</p> + + <p class="i2">That took what we whispered and said it + aloud.</p> + + <p>Whilst we wandered through fern-laden hedges and + talked, it</p> + + <p class="i2">So happened a dragon-fly flew by your + side.</p> + + <p>You remember, I'm sure, how you laughed as I stalked + it,</p> + + <p class="i2">And how it seemed hurt, as it finally + died.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then I think of our pic-nic. The sunshine came + glinting,</p> + + <p class="i2">And we thought that the summer had + come—come to stay.</p> + + <p>We did not walk too fast, you were constantly + hinting</p> + + <p class="i2">You were really afraid we were losing our + way.</p> + + <p>I seemed to be catching two glimpses of heaven,</p> + + <p class="i2">As I gazed at the sky and kept looking at + you;</p> + + <p>For the party that started by being just seven</p> + + <p class="i2">Had a curious habit of shrinking to + two.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Why, that's quite sentimental. It isn't the + fashion</p> + + <p class="i2">To write of such things in so high flown + a style.</p> + + <p>Yet maybe I'm entitled to so much of passion</p> + + <p class="i2">As to say that you won me outright with + your smile.</p> + + <p>Though a merciless fate may not let it befall + so,</p> + + <p class="i2">For we know not at all what there may be + in store,</p> + + <p>Yet next year, if you're down there—and I am + there also,</p> + + <p class="i2">Shall we do what we did in the summer + before?</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>"TO ERR IS HUMAN."—"Even I am not always infallible," + observed <i>Mr. P.</i>, on noticing that, in the dialogue under + a picture, last week, the spelling of "cover-coat" for + "covert-coat" had escaped his eagle eye. Just as he was + wondering to himself how such things could be, his other and + eagler eye caught this line in the correspondence, <i>per</i> + "Dalziel," from Chicago, in the <i>Times</i> for Sept. + 23:—"Great Britain has chosen a sight for her buildings + at the World's Fair." If "taken" had been substituted for + "chosen," the mistake might have borne a satirical meaning. No + doubt Great Britain has not made any error as to the site she + has selected, from any point of view.</p> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p class="center">MEM. IN COLOURS.</p> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Man's life is in two colours, simply told:</p> + + <p>Green while you're young, and grey when you are + old.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p>DOMESTIC COOKERY.—(<i>For a future New Edition of + "Mrs. Glasse-with-care"</i>)—It will contain suggestions + for new dishes, to be arranged according to grammatical + divisions of gender and number, as "case" already exists. A + specimen of the first will be <i>Une Femme-lette</i>, a female + companion dish to <i>Un 'Ommelet</i>. Another example proposed + is <i>La Petite Marmite</i> and <i>Le Petit Pa'mite</i>, two + dishes most suitable for a very small family party; say of + dwarf Troglodytes. "Number" of dishes must always be "a party + question;" though at the same time politics will be rigidly + excluded from the new publication.</p> + <hr /> + + <p><b>NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, + whether MS., Printer Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any + description, will in no case be returned, not even when + accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or + Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.</b></p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13995 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/13995-h/images/157.png b/13995-h/images/157.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f77701 --- /dev/null +++ b/13995-h/images/157.png diff --git a/13995-h/images/158.png b/13995-h/images/158.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7d9cbb6 --- /dev/null +++ b/13995-h/images/158.png diff --git a/13995-h/images/159.png b/13995-h/images/159.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1df26ed --- /dev/null +++ b/13995-h/images/159.png diff --git a/13995-h/images/160-1.png b/13995-h/images/160-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd7b421 --- /dev/null +++ b/13995-h/images/160-1.png diff --git a/13995-h/images/160-2.png b/13995-h/images/160-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ae5246d --- /dev/null +++ b/13995-h/images/160-2.png diff --git a/13995-h/images/161.png b/13995-h/images/161.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..74c9125 --- /dev/null +++ b/13995-h/images/161.png diff --git a/13995-h/images/162.png b/13995-h/images/162.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e89cb07 --- /dev/null +++ b/13995-h/images/162.png diff --git a/13995-h/images/163.png b/13995-h/images/163.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c6f84b --- /dev/null +++ b/13995-h/images/163.png diff --git a/13995-h/images/165.png b/13995-h/images/165.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..58fa32f --- /dev/null +++ b/13995-h/images/165.png diff --git a/13995-h/images/166.png b/13995-h/images/166.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f4bb20f --- /dev/null +++ b/13995-h/images/166.png diff --git a/13995-h/images/167.png b/13995-h/images/167.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a8f9b17 --- /dev/null +++ b/13995-h/images/167.png diff --git a/13995-h/images/168.png b/13995-h/images/168.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cbb7f80 --- /dev/null +++ b/13995-h/images/168.png diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d8a8c6e --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #13995 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/13995) diff --git a/old/13995-8.txt b/old/13995-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d738a71 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13995-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1801 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 101. +October 3rd, 1891, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 101. October 3rd, 1891 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: November 9, 2004 [EBook #13995] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading +Team + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 101. + + + +October 3rd, 1891. + + +THE TRAVELLING COMPANIONS. + +No. IX. + +SCENE--_The Burg Terrace at Nuremberg_. PODBURY _on a bench, grappling +with the Epitome of_ SPENCER. + +_Podbury_ (_reading aloud, with comments_). "For really to conceive the +infinite divisibility of matter is mentally to follow out the divisions +to infinity, and to do this would require infinite time." You're right +_there_, old cock, and, as I haven't got it to spare, I won't trouble +you!--um--um ... "opposite absurdities"--"subjective modifications" ... +"ultimate scientific ideas, then, are all representative of ideas that +cannot be comprehended." I could have told _him_ that. What bally rot this +Philosophy is--but I suppose I must peg away at it. Didn't she say she was +sorry I didn't go in more for cultivating my mind? (_He looks up._) Jove, +here she comes! and yes, there's that beggar CULCHARD with her! I thought +he'd--how the dickens did he manage to--? I see what _he's_ after--thinks +he'll cut me out--twice over--but he shan't this time, if I can help it! + +_Culchard_ (_to_ Miss HYPATIA PRENDERGAST). No, the Modern Spirit is too +earnestly intent upon solving the problems of existence to tolerate humour +in its literature. Humour has served a certain purpose in its day, but that +day is done, and I for one cannot pretend to regret its decay. + +_Miss H. P._ Nor I. In fact, the only humour I ever _really_ appreciated +is that of the ancient classics. There has been no true fun since +ARISTOPHANES died. At least, _I_ think not. + +_Podb._ (_catching the last sentence_). Oh, I say, come, Miss PRENDERGAST. +Have you ever read "The Jumping Frog"? + +_Miss P._ I was under the impression that _all_ frogs jumped. But I never +read--I--ah--_study_. + +_Podb._ (_declining to be crushed_). Well, I call MARK TWAIN funny anyhow. +But _I'm_ going in for study now. I am--honour bright! I'm swotting up +SPENCER--look! + +[_He exhibits the volume proudly._ + +_Miss P._ And are you not enchanted by the logical lucidity of that great +thinker? + +_Podb._ Um--I should be more enchanted if I ever had the faintest notion +what the great thinker was driving at. Look here--here's a simple little +sentence for you! _(Reads.)_ "Let us therefore bear in mind the +following:--That of the whole incident force affecting an aggregate, the +effective force is that which remains after deducting the non-effective, +that the temporarily effective and the permanently effective vary +inversely, and that the molar and molecular changes wrought by the +permanently effective force also vary inversely." (_With pathos._) And +that's only in an _Epitome_, mind you! + +_Miss P._ Really, Mr. PODBURY, I see nothing particularly incomprehensible +in that. + +_Culch._ (_with his superior smile_). My dear PODBURY, you can hardly +expect to master the Spencerian phraseology and habit of thought without +at least _some_ preliminary mental discipline! + +_Podb._ (_nettled_). Oh--but _you_ find him plain-sailing enough, I +suppose? + +_Culch._ I have certainly not encountered any insuperable difficulties in +his works as _yet_. + +_Podb._ Well, I'll just trouble you to explain _this_--wait a bit. +(_Opens volume again._) Ah, here we are--"And these illusive and primordial +cognitions, or pseud-ideas, are homogeneous entities which may be +differentiated objectively or subjectively, according as they are presented +as Noumenon or Phenomenon. Or, in other words, they are only cognoscible as +a colligation of incongruous coalescences." Now then--are you going to tell +me you can make head or tail of all that? + +_Culch._ (_perceiving that_ Miss P. _is awaiting his reply in manifest +suspense_). It's simple enough, my dear fellow, only I can't expect _you_ +to grasp it. It is merely a profound truth stated with masterly precision. + +_Podb._ Oh, is _that_ all, my dear fellow? (_He flings up his heels in an +ecstasy._) I _knew_ I'd have you! Why, I made that up myself as I went +along, and if _you_ understand it, it's a jolly sight more than _I_ do! +[_He roars with laughter._ + +_Miss P._ (_behind her handkerchief_). Mr. CULCHARD has evidently gone +through the--the "preliminary mental discipline." + +_Culch._ (_scarlet and sulky_). Of course, if Mr. PODBURY descends to +childishness of that sort, I can't pretend to-- + +[Illustration: Podbury grappling with the Epitome of Spencer.] + +_Podb._ (_wiping his eyes_). But you _did_ pretend, old chap. You said it +was "profound truth" and "masterly precision"! I've got more profound truth +where _that_ came from. I say, I shall set up as an intellectual Johnny +after this, and _get_ you to write an Epitome of me. I think I pulled your +leg _that_ time, eh? + +_Culch._ (_biting his lip_). When you have extracted sufficient +entertainment from that very small joke, you will perhaps allow Miss +PRENDERGAST to sit down and begin her sketch. You may not be aware that +you've taken her place. + +[_He withdraws majestically to the parapet, while_ PODBURY _makes way for_ +Miss P. _with apologies_. + +_Podb._ (_as he leans over seat while she sketches_). I wish your brother +BOB had been here--he would have enjoyed that! + +_Miss P._ It was really too bad of you, though. Poor Mr. CULCHARD! + +_Podb._ He shouldn't try to make me out a bigger duffer than I am, then. +But I say, you don't _really_ think it was too bad? Ah, you're +_laughing_--you don't! + +_Miss P._ Never mind what I really think. But you have got us both into sad +disgrace. Mr. CULCHARD is dreadfully annoyed with us--look at his +_shoulders_! + +_Culch._ (_leaning over parapet with his back to them_). That _ass_ +PODBURY! To think of his taking me in with an idiotic trick like that! And +before Her too! And when I had made it all right about the other evening, +and was producing an excellent impression on the way up here. I wish I +could hear what they were whispering about--more silly jokes at my expense, +no doubt. Bah! as if it affected _me_! + +_Podb._ (_to_ Miss P.). I say, how awfully well you draw! + +_Miss P._ There you betray your ignorance in Art matters. Sketching with me +is a pastime, not a serious pursuit, (_They go on conversing in a lower +tone._) No, _please_, Mr. PODBURY. I'm quite sure he would never-- + +_Podb._ (_rises; comes up to_ CULCHARD, _and touches his shoulder_). I say, +old chappie-- + +_Culch._ (_jerking away with temper_). Now, look here, PODBURY. I'm not in +the mood for any more of your foolery-- + +_Podb._ (_humbly_). All right, old boy. I wouldn't bother you, only Miss +PRENDERGAST wants a figure for her foreground, and I said I'd ask you if +you'd keep just as you are for a few minutes. Do you mind? + +_Culch._ (_to himself_). Afraid she's gone too far--thinks she'll smooth me +down! Upon my word, it would serve her right to--but no, I won't be petty. +(_Aloud._) Pray tell Miss PRENDERGAST that I have no immediate intention of +altering my position. + +_Podb._ Thanks awfully, old chap. I knew you'd oblige. + +_Culch._ (_incisively_). I am obliging Miss PRENDERGAST, and her only. +(_Raising his voice, without turning his head._) Would you prefer me to +_face_ you, Miss PRENDERGAST? + +_Miss P._ (_in tremulous tones_). N--no, thank you. It--it's so much more +n--natural, don't you know, for you to be l--looking at the view. + +_Culch._ As you please. (_To himself._) Can't meet my eye. Good! I shall go +on treating her distantly for a little. I wonder if I look indifferent +enough from behind? Shall I cross one foot? Better not--she may have begun +sketching me. If she imagines I'm susceptible to feminine flattery of this +palpable kind, she'll--how her voice shook, though, when she spoke. Poor +girl, she's afraid she offended me by laughing--and I _did_ think she had +more sense than to--but I mustn't be too hard on her. I'm afraid she's +already beginning to think too much of--and with my peculiar position with +Miss TROTTER--(MAUD, that is)--not that there's anything definite at +present, still--(_Aloud._) Ahem, Miss PRENDERGAST--am I standing as you +wish? (_To himself._) She doesn't answer--too absorbed, and I can't hear +that idiot--found he hasn't scored so much after all, and gone off in a +huff, I expect. So much the better! What a time she is over this, and how +quiet she keeps! I wish I knew whether it was coquetry or--shall I turn +round and see? No, I must be perfectly indifferent. And she _did_ laugh at +me. I distinctly saw her. Still, if she's sorry, this would be an excellent +opportunity for--(_Aloud._) Miss PRENDERGAST! (_No reply--louder._) May I +take it that you regret having been betrayed into momentary approbation of +a miserable piece of flippancy? If so, let me assure you--(_Turns round--to +discover that he is addressing two little flaxen-haired girls in speckled +pinafores, who are regarding him open-mouthed._ Miss PRENDERGAST _and_ +PODBURY _have disappeared_.) PODBURY _again!_ He must have planned +this--with _her_! It is too much. I have done--yes--done with the pair of +them! [_Strides off in bitter indignation._ + + * * * * * + +SCHOOL-BOY'S FIRST EXPERIENCE OF SMOKING.--One sickarette,--and he never +could do another. _O si sic omnes_! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE!"] + + * * * * * + +"HOTEL ME, GENTLE STRANGER!" + +[Mrs. WHEELER and Mrs. CUSTER, two literary ladies of New York, are +starting a hotel for women only.] + + Says Mrs. CUSTER to Mrs. WHEELER: + "I propose we put out a 'promoting' feeler!" + Says Mrs. WHEELER to Mrs. CUSTER, + "Monopolist Males we shall greatly fluster;" + 'Hotel it not in Gath!' at present + Till we have made things nice and pleasant. + First rule--'No Rules!' O, of course male noddies + Will snigger at once, the superior bodies! + But OSCAR WILDE must 'pull up his socks,' + Ere he'll equal women at paradox. + What I mean is this, in our 'Women's Hotel,' + We'll have no such thing as the 'Curfew Bell,' + And no fixed hour for the cry, 'Out lights!' + We will give free way to true 'Woman's Rights,' + Which are to thump, strum, tap, twirl, trill, + From morn till night at her own sweet will. + That's why we cherish, despite male spleen, + Typewriter, Piano, and Sewing-Machine! + The 'woodpecker tapping' is, indeed, not in it + With Emancipate Woman--no, not for a minute! + Our Hotel will be, when we've won the battle, + 'The Paradise of unlimited Rattle,' + 'The Realm of the Spindle,' 'the Home of the Duster!'" + Says Mrs. WHEELER to Mrs. CUSTER. + "Nought tabooed save Man! So comes Peace the Healer!" + Says Mrs. CUSTER to Mrs. WHEELER. + _Punch hopes_ their Hotel may flourish--only, + Spots "Reserved for Ladies" are often--lonely! + + * * * * * + +THE GERMAN EMPEROR GOING NAP.--It now appears that the words descriptive of +NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE used by the German Emperor, and to which the French +took so strong an exception, were not "_Le parvenu Corse_," but "_Le +conquérant Corse_," which, of course, makes all the difference. At this +banquet it would have been better had each course been omitted from the +_menu_. + + * * * * * + +A Vain Vaunt. + + _La belle France_ boasts of being Art's true henchman! + That cosmopolitan claim she should be mute on. + "Art for Art's sake!" shouts the thrasonic Frenchman, + "Save when that Art is Teuton," + Though Art's not marred for him by subtle sin + A German twang poisons e'en _Lohengrin_. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: INDISCRIMINATE CHARITY. + +_Benevolent Old Lady._ "NO, MR. SMITH; I SHALL NOT CONTINUE MY SUBSCRIPTION +TO YOUR CRICKET-GROUND ANY LONGER--FOR I FIND YOU ALLOW IT TO BE USED IN +THE WINTER FOR PIGEON-SHOOTING!" + +_Secretary to the Local Cricket Club._ "BUT, MADAM, YOU CAN'T BE AWARE THAT +WE SHOOT AT NOTHING BUT _CLAY PIGEONS!_" + +_B. O. L._ "I DON'T CARE _WHAT_ THE BREED MAY BE--IT'S EQUALLY CRUEL!"] + + * * * * * + +THE ARMADA FROM THE SPANISH. + +(_Commenced by Mr. J.A. Froude and concluded by the Duke of Medina +Sidonia._) + +It may be remembered that the English writer in _Longman's Magazine_, had +got to the point when after trying to get out of the expedition by pleading +poverty, incompetency, and anything else I could think of, I was forced to +go on my way to England with apparent satisfaction. We had putrid pork and +mouldy biscuit, but still I informed the King that we were "content and +cheerful." Had I given him any other intelligence, the chances are that he +would have had my head--not a good one, but sufficient to meet my modest +requirements. + +Well, we sailed towards England, and as Mr. J.A. FROUDE has already +explained (quoting from my own letter to King PHILIP), "knowing nothing of +navigation," I soon made a bad shot. Instead of going to Tilbury, I drifted +towards Cronstadt, even then a fortress of some consideration. I could tell +you a great deal more, were it not that I succumbed to sea-sickness and +gave up my command. The expedition was now, of course, commanded by the +steward, but the duties of his unpleasant office left him but little time +for directing an invasion. Well, we got within reach of England when the +wind began to blow, and before I could hitch myself up with a +marling-spike, every man Jack of us was ready for Davy Jones's locker! + +But why should I dwell upon the events of the next few days? We were +out-manoeuvred and beaten. I myself took refuge in a wood of mahogany +trees, and it was my delight and my privilege to supply the requirements of +the British colony in all that they desired. The result of this was that I +and a few personal friends took refuge in a forest in which mahogany trees +flourished. It was in this leafy prison that I supplied the genuine old +Armada mahogany "as advertised." I would be afraid to say how many places I +supplied with wood from the Armada. I may hint that I know something of the +tables at Westminster and the benches of Gray's Inn. But there, that is +many years ago, and all I can say now is, "Heave away, boys," and "Three +cheers for the Don, the Keys, and the Donkey." I was the Don, the keys were +supplied to those who paid for them, and the donkeys could defend +themselves. The Armada was not a success, and after this frank avowal, it +seems to me that Mr. FROUDE need render no further explanation. Surely the +story of the Spanish Invasion is copyright. And if it is, Mr. FROUDE has no +right to tamper with my work, the more especially as it is immediately +appropriated by that model of modern journalism the _Review of Reviews_. + + * * * * * + +PHILOSOPHICAL REFLECTION.--We have five senses. That's quite enough. If we +had a sixth sense, what a _new sense_ it would be! + + * * * * * + +"IN CELLAR DEEP." + + (_Latest Up-to-Date Version of a celebrated Bacchanalian ditty, as + it might be revised by Dr. Mortimer Granville and Mr. James + Payn._) + + ["No one drinks alcoholic liquor (unless it be beer) to quench + thirst."--JAMES PAYN.] + + In Cellar deep I sit and steep + My soul in GRANVILLE'S logic. + Companions mine, sound ale, good wine-- + _That_ foils Teetotal dodge--hic! + With solemn pate our sages prate, + The Pump-slaves neatly pinking. + He's proved an ass, whose days _don't_ pass + In drinking, drinking, drinking! + + In water pure there's danger sure, + All fizzle-pop's deceiving; + And ginger-beer must make you queer + (If GRANVILLE you're believing). + Safe, on the whole, is Alcohol; + It saves man's strength from sinking. + I injure none, and have good f--fun. + Whilst drinking, drinking, drinking! + + Hic! Hic! Hooray!! New reasons gay + For drink from doctors borrow! + The last (_not_ first) is simple thirst, + Thatsh true--to LAWSON'S sorrow! + Good Templarsh fain would "physic PAYN," + And GRANVILLE squelch like winking; + But all the same, true Wisdom's--hic--game + Is drinking, drinking, drinking! + +[_Left playing it._ + + * * * * * + +MR. PUNCH'S NAVAL NOVEL. + + [_Mr. Punch_ has observed with much gratification the success of + various _brochures_ professing to give, under the disguise of + retrospect, a prophetic but accurate account of the naval battle + of the immediate future. _Mr. Punch_ has read them carefully over + and over again. For some time he has been living, so to speak, in + the midst of magnificent iron-clad fleets. In vain have torpedoes + been launched on their occasionally death-dealing mission against + him, in vain have immense shells exploded in his immediate + neighbourhood. Nothing, not even the ramming of one whole squadron + by another, has succeeded in daunting him. He has remained + immovable in the midst of an appalling explosion which reduced a + ship's company to a heap of toe-nails. And now, his mind fired by + the crash of conflict and the intoxication of almost universal + slaughter, he proposes to show the world how a naval novel that + means to be accurate as well as vivid, to be bought by the public + in thousands as well as to teach useful lessons to politicians and + sailors, ought really to be written. _Mr. Punch_ may as well state + that he has _not_ submitted this story to any naval experts. His + facts speak for themselves, and require no merely professional + approval to enhance their value.] + +WHO'D BE A SAILOR? + +(_A Story of Blood and Battle._) + +CHAPTER I. + +[Illustration: The Explosion.] + +Listen, my Grandchildren! for you are mine, not indeed by the ridiculous +accident of birth (since to speak the truth I am an unmarried old +sea-dog), but by the far higher and more honourable title of having been +selected by me to hear this yarn. You know well enough that such a tale +_must_ be told to grandchildren, and since you undoubtedly possessed +grandparents, and have been hired at a shilling an hour to listen to me, I +have every right to address you as I did. Therefore I say, my +grandchildren, attend to what I am about to relate. You who live under the +beneficent sway of the mighty Australo-Canado-Africo-Celto-Americo-Anglian +Federation of Commonwealths, can have no notion of the degraded conditions +under which I, your grandfather, and the rest of my miserable +fellow-countrymen lived fifty years ago in the year 1892. Naturally you +have read no books of history referring to any date anterior to 1902. The +wretched records of ignorance, slavery and decrepitude have been justly +expunged from your curriculum. Let me tell you then that a little country +calling itself the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland at that time +arrogated to itself the leadership of the mighty countries which you now +call your home. You smile and refer me to a large-sized map on which, as +you justly observe, this country occupies a space of not more than two +square inches. Your surprise is intelligible, but the melancholy fact +remains. All this has now been happily changed, and changed too in +consequence of a war in which England (for so the country was often +inaccurately called, except upon Scotch political platforms, where people +naturally objected to the name) in which, as I say, England bore the chief +part and obtained the decisive victory. The story of this war I am now +about to relate to you. + +CHAPTER II. + +War had been declared. We had known for a long time that it was coming. For +months past the bellicose bench of Bishops had been preaching war in all +the Cathedrals of the land. Field Marshal the Duke of WOLSELEY, who was +then a simple lord, had written articles in all the prominent American +reviews, and had proved to demonstration that with 50,000 boys and the new +patent revolving ammunition belt, Britain (for that too was the name of my +late country) was ready to defy and conquer the world. Rear-Admiral and +Lieutenant-General Sir WILLIAM T. STEAD, G.C.B., C.S.I., K.G., V.C.--the +great journalist in the shade of whose colossal mounted statue we are now +sitting--had suddenly become a convert to the doctrine that war is the +great purifier, and had offered in a spirit of extraordinary +self-abnegation to command both the Army and the Fleet in action. Volunteer +corps armed with scythes, paper-knives, walking-sticks and umbrellas had +sprung up all over the country, and had provided their own uniforms and +equipment. Lord RANDOLPH CHURCHILL, father of the present Earl of South +Africa, had been recalled to office by an alarmed country, and had united +in his own person the offices of Secretary of State for War, First Lord of +the Admiralty, Premier, Chancellor of the Exchequer and Lord Privy Seal. As +a first step towards restoring confidence, he had, with his own hands, +beheaded the former Prime Minister, the Marquis of SALISBURY, and had +published a cheap and popular edition of his epoch-making Letters from +Mashonaland. His Lordship's official residence had been established at the +Amphitryon Club where they still preserve on constant relays of ice the +_Bécassine bardée aux truffes_ which Lord RANDOLPH was about to eat when he +snubbed the united ambassadors of Germany, France, Austria, Russia, Italy +and the Republic of Andorra. The immediate consequence was a declaration of +war against us. + +CHAPTER III. + +I was at that time in command of H.M.S. _Bandersnatch_, a vessel of nine +hundred thousand horse-power, and a mean average displacement of four +hundred thousand tons. Ah, the dear old _Bandersnatch!_ Never can I forget +the thrill of exquisite emotion which pervaded my inmost being as I stepped +on board in mid-ocean. Everything was in apple-pie order. Bulkheads, +girders, and beams shone like glass in the noonday sun. The agile +torpedo-catchers had been practising their sports, and I could not resist a +feeling of intense pride when I learnt that only fifty of these heroic +fellows had that morning perished owing to the accidental explosion of one +of their charming playthings at the very crisis of the game. The racers of +the after-guns had been out for their morning's exercise. Indeed the +saddles had only just been removed, and the noble animals were now enjoying +a good square meal of corn in their bombproof stable. Keep your animals in +good fettle, and they'll never shirk their work: that was always my motto, +and right well has it answered. The roaring furnaces, the cylindrical +boilers, the prisoned steam, the twin screws, the steel shot that crashes +like thunder, the fearful impact of the ram, the blanching terror of the +supreme moment, the shattered limbs and scattered heads,--all these were +ready, waiting but for the pressure of my finger on the middle button of +the boatswain's mess-waistcoat to speed forth upon their deadly work +between the illustrated covers of a shilling pamphlet. + +CHAPTER IV. + +In another moment the enemy's fleet had hove in sight. Our movements in the +ten minutes preceding the fatal conflict will be best understood by +consulting the annexed diagram:-- + +[Illustration] + +We advanced in this imposing order for five minutes. Then came a puff of +smoke, and, in less time than it takes to tell it, two thousand men had +been literally blown into thin air, their sole remnant being the left shoe +of my trusty second in command, Captain GLIMDOWSE. I trained the two +turret-guns until I had got them into perfect condition, and gave the word. +The crash that followed was terrific. One of the massive missiles went +home, and stayed there, no amount of inducement availing to bring it out +again to face the battle. The other, however, behaved as a British missile +should, and exploded in the heart of the hostile fleet. The result was +terrific. French, German and Russian Admirals by the thousand were +destroyed, their scattered fragments literally darkening the face of the +sun, and a mixed shower of iron, steel, stanchions, bollards, monster guns, +Admirals, sailors, stewards, cocked-hats, and Post Captains fell for ten +minutes without intermission from the clouds into which they had been +driven by the awful force of the explosion. I turned to my Lieutenant, who +was standing beside me, to give a necessary order. As I was about to +address him, the machine-guns in the enemy's tops belched forth a myriad +projectiles, and the unfortunate Lieutenant was swept into eternity. All +that was left of him was his right hand, which, curiously enough, remained +for a minute suspended in the air in its proper relative position to what +had been the Lieutenant's body. I mastered my emotion with an effort, as I +reverently grasped and shook the melancholy relic. Then, shedding a silent +tear, I dropped it over the side, and with an aching heart, watched it +disappear beneath the wave on which many of its former owner's happiest +hours had been spent. + +CHAPTER V. + +This catastrophe ended the battle. The allied fleets had been swept off the +face of the ocean. I packed what remained of H.M.S. _Bandersnatch_ in my +tobacco-pouch, attached myself to a hen-coop, and thus floated triumphantly +into Portsmouth Harbour. + + * * * * * + +CHARLEMAGNE AND I. + +_Aix-la-Chapelle, Monday._--I have always had a strange longing to know +CHARLEMAGNE. To shake him by the hand, to have opportunity of inquiring +after his health and that of his family, to hear his whispered reply--that +indeed were bliss. But CHARLEMAGNE is dead, and desire must be curbed. The +only thing open to an admirer is to visit the place of his last repose, and +brood in spots his shade may yet haunt. CHARLEMAGNE was buried at +Aix-la-Chapelle (German Aachen), but since my arrival in the town, I find +great difficulty in discovering his tomb. The great soldier Emperor +resembled an unfortunate and unskilful pickpocket in one respect. He was +always being taken up. He died in the year 814, and was left undisturbed +till the year 1000, when the Emperor OTTO THE THIRD opened his tomb, and, +finding his great predecessor sitting on a marble chair, helped him down. +The marble chair is on view in the Cathedral to this day (verger, I mark) +to witness to the truth of this narrative. One hundred and sixty-five years +later, FREDERICK BARBAROSSA opened the second tomb where OTHO had placed +C., and transferred to a marble sarcophagus what, at this date, was left of +him. In the following century C. was canonised. Whereupon nothing would +satisfy FREDERICK THE SECOND but to go for the bones again. They were now +growing scarce, and only a few fragments fill the reliquary in which at +length all that is left of my revered friend (if after this lapse of time I +may call him so) reposes. + +I have been fortunate in securing a relic, not exactly of CAROLO, but of +the time at or about which he lived. It is a piece of tapestry, on which +fingers long since dust have worked a sketch of the Emperor going to his +bath. Considering its age, the tapestry is in remarkably fresh condition. +The old Hebrew trader, whom for a consideration I induced to part with it, +said he would not charge any more on that account; which I thought very +considerate. He also said he might be able to get me some more pieces. But +this, I think, will do to go on with. + +But if there be nothing left of CAROLO MAGNO, there still is the city he +loved, in which he lived and died. Here is the Kaiserquelle, bubbling out +of Büchel in which, centuries ago, he laved his lordly limbs. Going down +into my bath this morning I observed in the dim light the imprint of a +footstep on the marble stair. + +"That might have been CHARLEMAGNE'S," I said to YAHKOB, my bath attendant. + +"_Ja wohl_," said YAHKOB, nodding in his friendly way, and, going out, he +presently returned with a hot towel. + +That did not seem to follow naturally upon my observation, which was, +indeed, born of idle fancy. (I know very well C.'s death eventuated long +prior to the building of the stately colonnade that fronts the present +baths, and that therefore the footprint is illusory.) I am growing used to +a certain irrelevancy in YAHKOB's conversation. My German is of the date of +CHARLEMAGNE, and is no more understood here than is the Greek of SOCRATES +in the streets of Athens. YAHKOB was especially told off for my service +because he thoroughly understood and talked English. He says, "Ye-es" and +"Ver well." But when I offer a chance remark he, three times out of five, +nods intelligently, bolts off and brings me something back--a comb and +brush, a newspaper, but oftenest, a hot towel. Once, when I asked him +whether there were two posts a day to London, he lugged in an arm-chair. + +I get on better with WILLIAM. WILLIAM is a rubber--not of whist, _bien +entendu_, but of men. In build WILLIAM is pear-shaped, the upper part of +him, where you would expect to find the stalk, broadening out into a +perpetual smile. He has lived in the Baths twenty-three years, and yet his +gaiety is not eclipsed. If he has a foible it is his belief that he +thoroughly understands London and its ways. + +"A ver big place," he remarked this morning, "where dey kills de ladees." + +This reference not being immediately clear, WILLIAM assisted dull +comprehension by drawing his finger across his throat, and uttering a +jovial "click!" But it was only when, his eyes brimming over with fun, he +said, "YAK de Reeper," that I followed the drift of his remark. + +It is gratifying to the citizen of London travelling abroad, to learn that +in the mind of the foreigner the great Metropolis is primarily and chiefly +associated with "JACK the Ripper" and his exploits. + +"I rob you not hard," WILLIAM incidentally remarks, pounding at your chest +as if it were a parquet flooring he was polishing; "but I strong so I can +break a shentleman's ribs." + +I make due acknowledgment of the prowess, being particularly careful to +refrain from expressing doubt, or even surprise. WILLIAM, always smiling, +repeats the assertion just as if I had contradicted him. Try to change +subject. + +[Illustration: "I would break hees ribs!"] + +"I wonder if CHARLEMAGNE had a massage man in his suite?" I say, "and who +was his Doctor? Now if he had had Dr. BRANDIS, I believe he would have been +alive at this day. But we cannot have everything. CHARLEMAGNE had the Iron +Crown of Lombardy; we have Dr. BRANDIS." + +"Y e e s," said WILLIAM, still gloating over his own train of thought; +"eef I like I break a shentleman's ribs." + +Sometimes WILLIAM'S smile, contracting, breaks into a whistle, horribly +out of tune. He rather fancies his musical powers, and is proud of his + intimate acquaintance with the fashionable _chansons_ current in London +to-day, or as he puts it, "Vat dey shings at de Carrelton Clob." Then he +warbles a line of the happily long-forgotten "Champagne CHARLIE," with +intervals of "Oh what a surprise!" He sings both to the same tune, and +fortunately knows only two lines of one and a single line of the other. + +Try to bring him back to CAROLO MAGNO. + +"Wouldn't you," I ask "give all you are worth to have lived in the time of +CHARLEMAGNE? Suppose some day you walked into this room and discovered him +sitting on his marble throne as OTHO found him with the Iron Crown on his +head and his right hand grasping the imperial sceptre, what would you do?" + +"I would break hees ribs," said WILLIAM, his face illumined by a sudden +flash of delighted anticipation. + +Alack! we are thinking of two personages sundered by centuries. My mind +dwells on CHARLEMAGNE, whilst WILLIAM is evidently thinking of Champagne +CHARLIE. + + * * * * * + +"ANNALS OF A VERY QUIET FAMILY." + +There were eight of us, each within a year or so of one another. + +Father was a very quiet man, engaged all day in his study. + +Mother was equally quiet. + +Father would never allow a trumpet, drum, or any instrument of torture, +except the piano, to be brought into the house. + +Mother quietly saw his orders carried out. + +In due course we all left home one after the other, and having been so +quiet for so long, each one of us has contrived to make a considerable +noise in the world since, and are all doing well. "Doing" may be used in +the widest possible sense. Among other accomplishments we blow our own +trumpets, as you see. As father and mother object to noise, we have not +encouraged their visits. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: DEA EX MACHINÂ! + +(_A Reminiscence._)] + + * * * * * + +"AS _HE_'D LIKE IT." + +(_Shakspeare once more freely adapted to the situation._) + + ["We wanted, and we want, to do for the villages, + what the first reformed Parliament did in conferring + municipal government upon the towns. We knew + that the Tory Party did not really mean to give + us village or parish Councils.... 'The Radical + agitators,' says Sir MICHAEL HICKS-BEACH, 'want + to see a complete change in the social condition of + rural society.' What if we do?... Why, it was + for this that many of us, seven or eight years ago, + and many more years ago, fought for getting the + labourer a vote."--_Mr. John Morley at Cambridge._] + +SCENE--_The Forest of Ha_(_w_)_arden._ + +_Touchstone_ (Mr. J-HN M-RL-Y); _Audrey_, (The Agricultural Vote); _Jaques_ +(Mr. P-NCH), behind. Afterwards _William_ (Sir M-CH-L H-CKS-B-CH.) + +_Touch._ Come apace, good AUDREY: I will fetch up your votes, AUDREY. And +how, AUDREY?--am I the man yet? Doth my simple programme content you? + +_Audrey._ Your programme! Lord warrant us, what programme? + +_Touch._ I am here with thee and thy Votes as the glittering poet-god +Apollo was among the herds of Admetus. + +_Jaq._ (_aside_). Oh, knowledge oddly applied! Fancy Olympian Oracles in a +thatched cottage! + +_Touch._ When a man's speeches cannot be understood, nor a man's good +platform wit seconded by the froward child popular understanding, it +strikes a man more dead than a small minority on a big Bill. Truly, I would +the gods had made thee political. + +_Aud._ I do not know what political is. Is it honest in deed and word? Is +it a true thing? + +_Touch._ (_with sardonic frankness_). No, truly; for the truest politics +show the most feigning; and Tories are given to politics; and what they +swear, in politics, may be said, as Tories, they do feign. + +_Aud._ Do you wish, then, that the gods had made _me_ political? + +_Touch._ I do, truly; for they swear to me thou art true Tory, +parson-and-squire-ridden Tory. Now, if thou wert political, I might have +some hope thou didst feign--to _them_! + +_Aud._ Would you not have me Tory? + +_Touch._ No, truly, unless thou wert fortune-favoured; for Toryism coupled +to poverty is to have folly a sauce to misery. + +_Jaq._ (_aside_). A shrewd fool! + +_Aud._ Well, I am not rich; and therefore I pray the gods to make me +Liberal. + +_Touch._ Truly, and to cast away Liberalism upon a willingly +"unemancipated" Voter, were to deck a porker with pearls. + +_Aud._ I may not be "emancipated," but I thank the gods I am +"enfranchised." + +_Touch._ Well, praised be the Liberals for thine enfranchisement! +Emancipation--from "squarsonry"--may come hereafter. But, be it as it may, +I will marry thee. + +_Jaq._ (_aside_). I would fain see this wedding. Methinks there will be +sport forward ere it be fully achieved. + +_Aud._ Well, the gods give us joy! + +_Touch._ Amen.... But, AUDREY, there is a youth here in the forest lays +claim to you. + +_Aud._ Ay, I know who 'tis: he hath no interest in me in the world. Here +comes the man you mean. + +_Touch._ It is meat and drink to me to see a--Tory: by my troth, we that +have good wits have much to answer for; we shall be flouting; we cannot +hold. + +_Enter_ WILLIAM. + +_Will._ Good even, AUDREY. + +_Aud._ Give ye good even, WILLIAM. + +_Will._ And good even to you, Sir! + +_Touch._ Good even, gentle friend.... Art thou wise? + +_Will._ Ay, Sir, I have a pretty wit. + +_Touch._ You do desire this maid? + +_Will._ I do, Sir. + +_Touch._ Give me your hand. Art thou learned? + +_Will._ No, Sir. + +_Touch._ Then learn this of me; to have is to have; for it is a great +figure in Gladstonian rhetoric, that votes being deducted from one Party +and added to another, by putting the one Out do put the other In; for all +your writers do consent that _ipse_ is he: now you are not _ipse_, for I am +he. + +_Will._ Which he, Sir? + +_Touch._ He, Sir, that must marry the woman. Therefore, you Tory, +abandon--which is, in the vulgar, leave--the society, which in the boorish +is, company--of this female,--which in the common is, woman; which together +is, abandon the society of this female, or Tory, thou vanishest; or, to thy +better understanding, skedaddlest; or, to wit, I defeat thee, make thee +away, translate thy majority into minority, thine Office into Opposition; I +will deal in programmes with thee, or in eloquence, or in epigram; I will +bandy with thee in faction; I will o'errun thee with policy; I will "mend +thee or end thee" a hundred and fifty ways; therefore, tremble, and depart! + +SONG (_behind_). + + It was a lover and his lass, + With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, + That o'er the stubble fields did pass + (Together WILL caught 'em). + In the time of autumn, + When M.P.'s spout, and "manoeuvre" about; + M.P.'s (who are "out") love autumn. + + About three acres and a cow, + With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; + The artful country folks know now. + In the time of autumn, &c. + + Since that the franchise was their dower, + With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, + The Country Voters are a power. + In the time of autumn, &c. + + And, therefore, at the present time, + With "an Agricultural Policy"--funny, ho!-- + _Both_ Parties simple HODGE would lime, + In the time of autumn, &c. + +_Will._ (_aside_). Truly, though there is no great matter in the ditty, yet +the note is very untuneable. [_Exit._ + +_Touch._ Trip, AUDREY, trip, AUDREY,--I attend,--I attend! + [_Exeunt._ + +_Jaq._ (_appearing_). There is surely another political deluge forward, and +these motley would-be couples are seeking the official ark! [_Exit._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _William_.... SIR M-CH-L H-CKS-B-CH. _Touchstone_.... J-HN +M-RL-Y. _Audrey_....THE AGRICULTURAL VOTE. + +"AS _HE_'D LIKE IT." + +SCENE--_The Forest of Ha(w)arden._ + +TOUCHSTONE. "I AM HE THAT MUST MARRY THIS WOMAN! THEREFORE, YOU CLOWN, +ABANDON THE SOCIETY OF THIS FEMALE;.... I WILL BANDY WITH THEE IN FACTION; +I WILL O'ERRUN THEE WITH POLICY; THEREFORE. TREMBLE, AND DEPART!"--_As You +Like It_, Act V., Scene 1.] + + * * * * * + +THE TRUE TENNYSON. + +We have all been startled to find from the researches of Mr. WOODALL in +_Notes and Queries_, that "Between the story sung by the Poet Laureate in +his romantic poem _The Lord of Burleigh_, and the actual fact, there seems +to be little in common." HENRY CECIL, Earl and afterwards Marquis of +EXETER, married Miss SARAH HOGGINS under the name of JOHN JONES, having a +wife alive at the time, and she did not die as the poem relates. It is +obvious then that TENNYSON must be re-written, and we offer his Lordship +the following humble suggestions. _The Lord of Burleigh_ should +henceforward run somewhat as follows:-- + + Quoth he, "Gentle SARAH HOGGINS," + Speaking in seductive tones, + "You must wed no HODGE or SCROGGINS, + But espouse your own J. JONES." + Oh! he was an artful party, + And that marriage was a crime. + He'd a wife alive and hearty, + Though she'd left him for a time. + +The above discovery has, of course, led to doubts regarding other +Tennysonian heroines. Was Lady CLARA VERE DE VERE, for example, as black as +the poet has painted her? Perish the thought! Here are a couple of specimen +stanzas for an amended version:-- + + Lady CLARA VERE DE VERE, + I vow that you were not a flirt, + The daughter of a hundred Earls + Would not a single creature hurt. + "Kind hearts are more than coronets," + What abject twaddle, on my word; + And then the joke is in the end,-- + We know they made the bard a Lord. + + The tale of how young LAURENCE died, + In some audacious print began; + The fact is that he took to drink, + He always was that sort of man. + And as for ALFRED, why, of course + You snubbed him; but was that a crime, + That he should go and call you names, + And print his atrabilious rhyme? + +Then, again, was the _Amy_ of _Locksley Hall_ quite as shallow-hearted and +so forth as the angry rhymester declares? It will probably turn out that +she was not. Hence the verses should run in this fashion:-- + + And I said, "My Cousin AMY, speak the truth, my heart to ease. + Shall it be by banns or license?" And she whispered, "Which you please." + Love took up the glass of Time and waved it gaily in the air, + + Married life was sweet at Number Twenty-Six in Camden Square. + + AMY faithless! Bless your heart, Sir, that was not the case at all: + + It was pure imagination that I wrote in Locksley Hall. + +[Illustration: _George_ (_about to enjoy the first new-laid Egg from the +recently set-up Fowl-house_). "WHY--CONF--THEY'VE BOILED THE PORCELAIN +NEST-EGG!"] + +This process will doubtless have to be applied to many of the poems, but we +must leave the congenial task to the Laureate. + + * * * * * + +A SONNET OF VAIN DESIRE. + +AFTER THE HOLIDAYS. + + As when th' industrious windmill vainly yearns + To pause, and scratch its swallow-haunted head, + Yet at the wind's relentless urging turns + Its flying arms in wild appeal outspread; + So am I vex'd by vain desire, that burns + These barren places whence the hair hath fled, + To wander far amid the woodland ferns, + Where dewdrops shine along the gossamer thread; + Where its own sunlight on the reddening leaf + Sleeps, when soft mists have swathed the sunless tree, + + Or where the innumerous billows merrily dance; + Yet must I busily dissemble grief + Whirl'd in the pitiless round of circumstance, + Rigid with trained respectability. + + * * * * * + +New Way out of a Wager. + + DESMOND, Theosophist Colonel, now thinks better + Of his rash vow his gift to "demonstrate," + Receiving a "precipitated letter" + Warning him not to be--precipitate. + Many a Betting Man who'd hedge or tack + Must wish he had Mahatmas at _his_ back. + + * * * * * + +The Beggar's Petition. + +(_New Version._) + + Life must not be lost, Sir, with lightness, + To _labour_ for life gives me pain; + My exchequer's affected with tightness, + But begging's the pink of politeness, + Like Scribes, Sir, "I beg--to _remain!_" * + +* And didn't CHARLES LAMB, in his most delightful essay _On the +Decay of Beggars_, deplore their gradual disappearance? + + * * * * * + +DOCTOR LAURIE. + +_Song by a Scotch Student_. AIR--"_Annie Laurie_." + +["According to Dr. LAURIE, of Edinburgh University, the "teaching of Greek, +so far as it is attempted in our secondary schools, is positively +harmful."--_Daily News._] + + Pedagogue brays are bonnie, + When Greek they'd fain taboo; + And 'tis here that Doctor LAURIE + Gi'es utterance strictly true, + Gi'es utterance strictly true, + Which ne'er forgot should be, + And for bonnie Doctor LAURIE, + A Scottish boy would dee. + + Auld HOMER is a humbug, + ANACREON is an ass; + Sumphs scrape enoo o' baith o' them, + The "Little-go" to pass, + The Little-go to pass-- + It affects them "harmfullee." + Ah! but bonnie Doctor LAURIE, + He kens Greek's a' my ee! + + Like diplomas fause and lying, + Are "passes" such as this. + Why should Scotch lads sit sighing + O'er the _Anabasis_?-- + O'er the _Anabasis_? + XENOPHON's fiddle-de-dee? + Oh, for bonnie Doctor LAURIE, + I'd shout with three times three! + + * * * * * + +UNDER-LYNE'D.--Said Sir W. VERNON HARCOURT, at Ashton-under-Lyne, "I am +very glad to be enabled to come here from the hospitable roof of Mr. RUPERT +MASON." ... And again, "I have come here also from the roof of Mr. MATHER." +Quite a Sir WILLIAM ROOFUS! But what was he doing on the roof? Was there a +tile off in each case? Something wrong with the first house that a Mason +couldn't set right? And with the second, did Sir ROOFUS sing, "Oh dear, +what can the Mather be?" And why the invidious distinction between the two +roofs? The first being hospitable, and the second having no pleasant +epithet to recommend it. + + * * * * * + +PROPOSED NEW TITLE FOR LORD GR-M-TH-RPE.--Baron (H)ALTER EGO. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A LANCASHIRE WATERING-PLACE.] + + * * * * * + +POPULAR SONGS RE-SUNG; + +OR, MISS BOWDLER AT THE MUSIC HALLS. + +INTRODUCTORY. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH, + +In these progressive days earnest reformers, especially those of the London +County Council type, yearn to chasten and æstheticise the Muse of the Music +Hall, who is perhaps the only really popular Muse of the period. My name +gives me a sort of hereditary right to take exceptional interest in such +matters, though indeed my respected, and respectable, ancestor is not in +all things the model of his more catholic and cosmopolitan descendant. The +McDougall regimen would doubtless be a little _too_ drastic. To improve the +Music-hall Song off the face of the earth, is an attempt which could only +suggest itself to puritan fanaticism in its most arbitrary administrative +form. The proletariat will not "willingly let die" the only Muse whose +ministrations really "come home to its business and its bosom." No, Sir, +the People's Pegasus cannot, must not be ruthlessly consigned to the +knackers. But may it not be gently bitted, discreetly bridled, and taught +to trot or amble with park-hack paces in the harness of Respectability? + +It is in this hope and faith that the following drawing-room versions of +some of "the most popular Comic (and Sentimental) Songs of the Day" have +been attempted by + Your respectful admirer, + VIRGINIA BOWDLER. + +To the Respectable Citizen, the Moral Matron, and the Young Person, with a +love of larkiness and lilt, but a distrust of politics, pugilism, and deep +potations, the following eclectic adaptation of this prodigiously popular +ballad may perhaps be not altogether unwelcome. + +No. I.--TWO LOVELY BROWN EYES, + +AIR--"_Two Lovely Black Eyes_". + + Strolling one Sunday near Bethnal Green, + This "æsthete" you might have seen, + Surveying "the People" with scornful spleen + When, oh, what a surprise! + An Art Exhibition I chanced to see, + Therein I entered right speed-i-lee, + When--on a canvas--there shone on me + Two lovely brown eyes! + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Smiling right down on a dingy throng, + Two lovely brown eyes! + + From a canvas of "High Art" sort they shone, + Their owner was cinctured with classic zone, + She was spare of flesh, she was big in bone, + Oh, what a surprise! + A parson, whom everyone owned "a good sort," + Had hung them there for the pleasure and sport + Of the dreary dwellers in slum and court, + Those lovely brown eyes! + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Drawing the gaze of an East-End crowd, + Two lovely brown eyes! + + My own regard, as I loitered there, + Fastened on one proletariat pair, + With finery frowsy, and oily hair; + Oh, what a surprise! + "SALLIE" and "BILL" were the names they flung + Frankly abroad with unreticent tongue, + Lounging and staring where graciously hung + Those lovely brown eyes. + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + SALLIE and BILL your calm beauty could thrill; + Two lovely brown eyes! + + Art (so I argue) for all is best, + Here, in the East, on the Day of Rest, + Lo! my pet theory put to the test! + Oh, what a surprise! + The chap staring there is a Coster true, + Trowsered in corduroy, belchered in blue; + What does _he_ think of your heavenly hue, + Two lovely brown eyes? + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + "SALLIE", he whispered, "_she's_ got, like _you_, + Two lovely brown eyes!" + + The picture was one of BURNE-JONES'S best; + "SALLIE" was snub-nosed and showily drest; + I sought her visage in querulous quest, + When oh, what a surprise! + Plump in the midst of a "puddingy" face, + Coarse-cut in feature, devoid of grace, + Nature capricious had chosen to place + Two lovely brown eyes! + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + There on each side of a salient "snub," + Two lovely brown eyes: + + Brown? Ah, yes! But, alack! alack! + The brown was fringed with a halo of _black_, + Fruit, it was plain of some marital thwack, + Oh, what a surprise! + "_She_," sighed the girl, "has a beautiful chump, + Though she _do_ seem to 'ave got the 'ump. + _Them_ pair o' lamps never felt a thump, + _Them_ lovely brown eyes!" + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Something seemed telling that man he was wrong, + Two lovely brown eyes! + + Say, was it fancy? I saw a flush + O'er the coarse cheeks of that Coster rush, + "Stash it!" he murmured. A Coster blush? + Oh, what a surprise! + SALLIE,--she clung to his muscular arm-- + With a look half lovingness, half alarm, + He stooped and--kissed her! Now, was it _your_ charm, + Two lovely brown eyes? + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Was it your influence, gentle yet strong, + Two lovely brown eyes? + + "BILL," whispered she, "you may bet two _d + She_ never nagged at 'er bloke--like _me_-- + He never wheeled a whelk-barrer, d'yer see? + Oh, what a surprise! + Parties with cultcher and piles o'cash + Ain't no temptation to row or bash, + But--who's to tell but she's jilted '_er_ mash-- + Miss Lovely Brown Heyes?" + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Twinkled like stars 'twixt a tear and a frown, + Two lovely brown eyes. + + The moral you've caught I can hardly doubt; + On Art _versus_ Morals men sneer or shout, + Leave it to OSCAR to fight _that_ out, + If you would be wise. + Better, far better, it is to let + Beautiful things work their way--you bet! + Then the Coster's wife may less frequently wet + _Her_ lovely brown eyes. + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Art-loving-Man is _less_ likely to black + Two lovely brown eyes! + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +MEN OF THE PAST. + +(COMPILED BY _THE_ MAN OF THE PRESENT.) + +CROMWELL.--An English Brewer. Uncertain about his aspirates. Distinctly +vulgar. Face disfigured by warts. + +PETER THE GREAT.--Quite a common sort of Russian. Man with coarse tastes. +Came to England to learn ship-building. Fond of low society; in fact, the +type of an enterprising cad. + +WASHINGTON.--Entirely provincial English rebel, who caused considerable +trouble in America. Family fair, but not to be traced beyond three +generations. Used to eat peas with his knife. + +HANNIBAL.--Brutal barbarian. Feeblest ideas of stategy. Went the wrong way +over the Alps. Given to oaths from childhood up. Quite a classical nobody. + +BUONAPARTE.--A Corsican _Parvenu_. + + * * * * * + +The Garrick School. + + School for young actors is the Garrick Playhouse. + Upon the road to fame a quarter-way house + For IRVING _fils_. And likewise note we there + The heir apparent of a parent HARE. + + * * * * * + +"_DIO, age_!" of which the classic American translation is, "Do tell!" + + * * * * * + +JOURNAL OF A ROLLING STONE. + +NINTH ENTRY. + +Curious thing, now that I am installed as a pupil in FIBBINS'S Chambers in +Waste Paper Buildings, Temple, how few _new_ briefs I am given to read. +Usual routine is for DICK FIBBINS to hand me a brief on which the dust of +ages has collected, and to leave me to "get up the law about it"; but when +he (FIBBINS) comes back from his day's business in Court, about 4·30 P.M., +he doesn't seem to care a bit to know what the law is. Seems tired, and +prefers to gossip and smoke; so I do the same, or "follow on the same +side," as he expresses it. + +"It strikes me forcibly," I begin, "that the Plaintiff, SMITHERS, in that +running-down case you asked me to read to-day, hasn't got the ghost of a +chance. Why, in _Blatherson_ v. _Snipe_, the Court ruled--" + +"Tried the lawn-tennis in the gardens yet?" FIBBINS interrupts, in the +rudest possible manner. + +"No," I reply, "I was speaking of the Court, not lawn-tennis courts." (One +for FIBBINS, I think.) "All the Judges held in _Blatherson_ v. _Snipe_, +that--" + +"Oh, did they?" he interrupts again: "doosid interesting. Was I for +plaintiff or defendant?" + +"Plaintiff, SMITHERS. A running-down case." + +"Wish it had been a running-up case--a case of running-up the fees," he +laughs. Then, resuming a more professional style, "You see, I've had such +multitudes of cases since then, that I've forgotten the precise details. +But you write out your own Opinion--not to-day; tomorrow will do. Then I'll +see what it's like. Now let's go a trot down the Strand." + +Another circumstance that strikes me as remarkable, is the frequency with +which I hear the Impressive Clerk (in the little room next to mine) +requesting persons who have called to "settle up that other little matter." +Then the strange voice laughs, and says--"Oh, your Governor can wait." "No, +he can't,"--it's the Clerk who says this--"it's been going on for three +years, now." "Well," chimes in the unknown, "let it go a bit longer. +When'll your Governor have settled those pleadings?" "When your people +settle about the five guineas, and not before," replies the Impressive +Clerk in his best Parliamentary debating style. Then follows a long +wrangle, not on law, but on finance, which never--as far as I can +judge--ends in the Clerk getting his way, and his money. + +[Illustration: "Looks like a Prime Minister in reduced circumstances."] + +Astonishing event happens. A real live new brief comes in! Impressive +Clerk--who looks like a Prime Minister in reduced circumstances--brings it +to FIBBINS when I am in the room. More impressive than ever. "From ROGERS, +in Chancery Lane--an excellent firm, Sir," he says. Poor FIBBINS tries, +ineffectually, to conceal his delight, and his eye turns instinctively to +the place where the fee is marked. + +"Six guas" (legal slang for guineas) "for an Opinion, not bad," he +comments, rubbing his hands. FIBBINS dusts a corner of his desk, and lays +it down there. + +_I_ am given this precious brief, and am asked to write a "draft Opinion" +about it! "Just to try your hand," says FIBBINS, who does not wish me to be +conceited. "Then I'll write my own afterwards," he adds. + +I make a very elaborate commentary, quoting from innumerable parallel cases +in English, American, and Roman law, and, after giving it to DICK FIBBINS +to read, I don't see it again. + +But, a few afternoons later, when Impressive Clerk happens to be out, a +knock comes. Nobody in. At last, go myself (_Query_--infra dig.?) and open +door. + +"Here!" says a juvenile, who apparently mistakes me for the Clerk, and +rudely chucks some papers to me, which hit me in the chest, "give these to +your Governor. What a time you take answering a knock! Having a nap, hay? +Take care old FIBBINS don't catch you at it, that's all!" Juvenile +disappears downstairs, whistling, before I can think of a suitable +rejoinder. + +Open the papers. The same brief returned with request to "draw up a +Statement of Claim,"--and my "Opinion" inside! It looks as if DICK sent +these clients of his _my_ valuable advice, pretending that it was his own! + +My learned "leader," when he comes in, treats affair very coolly. + +"Oh, did I send _your_ 'Opinion' to them as well as mine? What an ass I am! +I wonder what they thought of it?" + +I also wonder. In looking over the returned brief just now, however, I +certainly did not come across the "Opinion," manufactured by FIBBINS +himself, of which that learned Counsel spoke. And I have no second chance +of examining it, as he is careful to take "all the documents in the case" +(a phrase of the Impressive Clerk's) home with him, for what he calls +re-perusal. + +The conviction that it _was_ my Opinion, and mine alone, which FIBBINS +dispatched, probably out of sheer laziness, to ROGERS & CO., Solicitors, +Chancery Lane, is one that I still retain. But it is FIBBINS who retains +the fee! + + * * * * * + +AT THE CLOSE OF THE SUMMER. + +(_By one who idled. To his Lady-help._) + + I am back at my work, which is far from exciting + After nothing to do for a month at a time, + So I am not astonished to find myself writing + To you, dear MELENDA, and writing in rhyme. + In my rooms very often the scent of the heather + Brings back with it sweet recollections, and so + I think of the days when we idled together, + Far away in the country a fortnight ago. + + Yes, the two afternoons when, although we were sorry + That it rained, we went out as to do we had vowed, + And the wonderful echo we found in a quarry + That took what we whispered and said it aloud. + Whilst we wandered through fern-laden hedges and talked, it + So happened a dragon-fly flew by your side. + You remember, I'm sure, how you laughed as I stalked it, + And how it seemed hurt, as it finally died. + + Then I think of our pic-nic. The sunshine came glinting, + And we thought that the summer had come--come to stay. + We did not walk too fast, you were constantly hinting + You were really afraid we were losing our way. + I seemed to be catching two glimpses of heaven, + As I gazed at the sky and kept looking at you; + For the party that started by being just seven + Had a curious habit of shrinking to two. + + Why, that's quite sentimental. It isn't the fashion + To write of such things in so high flown a style. + Yet maybe I'm entitled to so much of passion + As to say that you won me outright with your smile. + Though a merciless fate may not let it befall so, + For we know not at all what there may be in store, + Yet next year, if you're down there--and I am there also, + Shall we do what we did in the summer before? + + * * * * * + +"TO ERR IS HUMAN."--"Even I am not always infallible," observed _Mr. P._, +on noticing that, in the dialogue under a picture, last week, the spelling +of "cover-coat" for "covert-coat" had escaped his eagle eye. Just as he was +wondering to himself how such things could be, his other and eagler eye +caught this line in the correspondence, _per_ "Dalziel," from Chicago, in +the _Times_ for Sept. 23:--"Great Britain has chosen a sight for her +buildings at the World's Fair." If "taken" had been substituted for +"chosen," the mistake might have borne a satirical meaning. No doubt Great +Britain has not made any error as to the site she has selected, from any +point of view. + + * * * * * + +MEM. IN COLOURS. + + Man's life is in two colours, simply told: + Green while you're young, and grey when you are old. + + * * * * * + +DOMESTIC COOKERY.--(_For a future New Edition of "Mrs. +Glasse-with-care"_)--It will contain suggestions for new dishes, to be +arranged according to grammatical divisions of gender and number, as "case" +already exists. A specimen of the first will be _Une Femme-lette_, a female +companion dish to _Un 'Ommelet_. Another example proposed is _La Petite +Marmite_ and _Le Petit Pa'mite_, two dishes most suitable for a very small +family party; say of dwarf Troglodytes. "Number" of dishes must always be +"a party question;" though at the same time politics will be rigidly +excluded from the new publication. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. +101. October 3rd, 1891, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 13995-8.txt or 13995-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/9/9/13995/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading +Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 101. October 3rd, 1891 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: November 9, 2004 [EBook #13995] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading +Team + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 101.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>October 3rd, 1891.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page157" + id="page157"></a>[pg 157]</span> + + <h2>THE TRAVELLING COMPANIONS.</h2> + + <h4>No. IX.</h4> + + <p>SCENE—<i>The Burg Terrace at Nuremberg</i>. PODBURY + <i>on a bench, grappling with the Epitome of</i> SPENCER.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/157.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/157.png" + alt="Podbury grappling with the Epitome of Spencer." /> + </a> + + <p>Podbury grappling with the Epitome of Spencer.</p> + </div> + + <p><i>Podbury</i> (<i>reading aloud, with comments</i>). "For + really to conceive the infinite divisibility of matter is + mentally to follow out the divisions to infinity, and to do + this would require infinite time." You're right <i>there</i>, + old cock, and, as I haven't got it to spare, I won't trouble + you!—um—um ... "opposite + absurdities"—"subjective modifications" ... "ultimate + scientific ideas, then, are all representative of ideas that + cannot be comprehended." I could have told <i>him</i> that. + What bally rot this Philosophy is—but I suppose I must + peg away at it. Didn't she say she was sorry I didn't go in + more for cultivating my mind? (<i>He looks up</i>.) Jove, here + she comes! and yes, there's that beggar CULCHARD with her! I + thought he'd—how the dickens did he manage to—? I + see what <i>he's</i> after—thinks he'll cut me + out—twice over—but he shan't this time, if I can + help it!</p> + + <p><i>Culchard</i> (<i>to</i> Miss HYPATIA PRENDERGAST). No, + the Modern Spirit is too earnestly intent upon solving the + problems of existence to tolerate humour in its literature. + Humour has served a certain purpose in its day, but that day is + done, and I for one cannot pretend to regret its decay.</p> + + <p><i>Miss H. P</i>. Nor I. In fact, the only humour I ever + <i>really</i> appreciated is that of the ancient classics. + There has been no true fun since ARISTOPHANES died. At least, + <i>I</i> think not.</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>catching the last sentence</i>). Oh, I say, + come, Miss PRENDERGAST. Have you ever read "The Jumping + Frog"?</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. I was under the impression that <i>all</i> + frogs jumped. But I never + read—I—ah—<i>study</i>.</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>declining to be crushed</i>). Well, I call + MARK TWAIN funny anyhow. But <i>I'm</i> going in for study now. + I am—honour bright! I'm swotting up + SPENCER—look!</p> + + <p class="author">[<i>He exhibits the volume proudly</i>.</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. And are you not enchanted by the logical + lucidity of that great thinker?</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. Um—I should be more enchanted if I ever + had the faintest notion what the great thinker was driving at. + Look here—here's a simple little sentence for you! + <i>(Reads.)</i> "Let us therefore bear in mind the + following:—That of the whole incident force affecting an + aggregate, the effective force is that which remains after + deducting the non-effective, that the temporarily effective and + the permanently effective vary inversely, and that the molar + and molecular changes wrought by the permanently effective + force also vary inversely." (<i>With pathos</i>.) And that's + only in an <i>Epitome</i>, mind you!</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. Really, Mr. PODBURY, I see nothing + particularly incomprehensible in that.</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>with his superior smile</i>). My dear + PODBURY, you can hardly expect to master the Spencerian + phraseology and habit of thought without at least <i>some</i> + preliminary mental discipline!</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>nettled</i>). Oh—but <i>you</i> find + him plain-sailing enough, I suppose?</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. I have certainly not encountered any + insuperable difficulties in his works as <i>yet</i>.</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. Well, I'll just trouble you to explain + <i>this</i>—wait a bit. (<i>Opens volume again</i>.) Ah, + here we are—"And these illusive and primordial + cognitions, or pseud-ideas, are homogeneous entities which may + be differentiated objectively or subjectively, according as + they are presented as Noumenon or Phenomenon. Or, in other + words, they are only cognoscible as a colligation of + incongruous coalescences." Now then—are you going to tell + me you can make head or tail of all that?</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>perceiving that</i> Miss P. <i>is awaiting + his reply in manifest suspense</i>). It's simple enough, my + dear fellow, only I can't expect <i>you</i> to grasp it. It is + merely a profound truth stated with masterly precision.</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. Oh, is <i>that</i> all, my dear fellow? (<i>He + flings up his heels in an ecstasy</i>.) I <i>knew</i> I'd have + you! Why, I made that up myself as I went along, and if + <i>you</i> understand it, it's a jolly sight more than <i>I</i> + do! [<i>He roars with laughter</i>.</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. (<i>behind her handkerchief</i>). Mr. + CULCHARD has evidently gone through the—the "preliminary + mental discipline."</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>scarlet and sulky</i>). Of course, if Mr. + PODBURY descends to childishness of that sort, I can't pretend + to—</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>wiping his eyes</i>). But you <i>did</i> + pretend, old chap. You said it was "profound truth" and + "masterly precision"! I've got more profound truth where + <i>that</i> came from. I say, I shall set up as an intellectual + Johnny after this, and <i>get</i> you to write an Epitome of + me. I think I pulled your leg <i>that</i> time, eh?</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>biting his lip</i>). When you have + extracted sufficient entertainment from that very small joke, + you will perhaps allow Miss PRENDERGAST to sit down and begin + her sketch. You may not be aware that you've taken her + place.</p> + + <p>[<i>He withdraws majestically to the parapet, while</i> + PODBURY <i>makes way for</i> Miss P. <i>with apologies</i>.</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>as he leans over seat while she + sketches</i>). I wish your brother BOB had been here—he + would have enjoyed that!</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. It was really too bad of you, though. Poor + Mr. CULCHARD!</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. He shouldn't try to make me out a bigger duffer + than I am, then. But I say, you don't <i>really</i> think it + was too bad? Ah, you're <i>laughing</i>—you don't!</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. Never mind what I really think. But you have + got us both into sad disgrace. Mr. CULCHARD is dreadfully + annoyed with us—look at his <i>shoulders</i>!</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>leaning over parapet with his back to + them</i>). That <i>ass</i> PODBURY! To think of his taking me + in with an idiotic trick like that! And before Her too! And + when I had made it all right about the other evening, and was + producing an excellent impression on the way up here. I wish I + could hear what they were whispering about—more silly + jokes at my expense, no doubt. Bah! as if it affected + <i>me</i>!</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>to</i> Miss P.). I say, how awfully well + you draw!</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. There you betray your ignorance in Art + matters. Sketching with me is a pastime, not a serious pursuit, + (<i>They go on conversing in a lower tone</i>.) No, + <i>please</i>, Mr. PODBURY. I'm quite sure he would + never—</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>rises; comes up to</i> CULCHARD, <i>and + touches his shoulder</i>). I say, old chappie—</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>jerking away with temper</i>). Now, look + here, PODBURY. I'm not in the mood for any more of your + foolery—</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. (<i>humbly</i>). All right, old boy. I wouldn't + bother you, only Miss PRENDERGAST wants a figure for her + foreground, and I said I'd ask you if you'd keep just as you + are for a few minutes. Do you mind?</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>to himself</i>). Afraid she's gone too + far—thinks she'll smooth me down! Upon my word, it would + serve her right to—but no, I won't be petty. + (<i>Aloud</i>.) Pray tell Miss PRENDERGAST that I have no + immediate intention of altering my position.</p> + + <p><i>Podb</i>. Thanks awfully, old chap. I knew you'd + oblige.</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. (<i>incisively</i>). I am obliging Miss + PRENDERGAST, and her only. (<i>Raising his voice, without + turning his head</i>.) Would you prefer me to <i>face</i> you, + Miss PRENDERGAST?</p> + + <p><i>Miss P</i>. (<i>in tremulous tones</i>). N—no, + thank you. It—it's so much more n—natural, don't + you know, for you to be l—looking at the view.</p> + + <p><i>Culch</i>. As you please. (<i>To himself</i>.) Can't meet + my eye. Good! I shall go on treating her distantly for a + little. I wonder if I look indifferent enough from behind? + Shall I cross one foot? Better not—she may have begun + sketching me. If she imagines I'm susceptible to feminine + flattery of this palpable kind, she'll—how her voice + shook, though, when she spoke. Poor girl, she's afraid she + offended me by laughing—and I <i>did</i> think she had + more sense than to—but I mustn't be too hard on her. I'm + afraid she's already beginning to think too much of—and + with my peculiar position with Miss TROTTER—(MAUD, that + is)—not that there's anything definite at present, + still—(<i>Aloud</i>.) Ahem, Miss PRENDERGAST—am I + standing as you wish? (<i>To himself</i>.) She doesn't + answer—too absorbed, and I can't hear that + idiot—found he hasn't scored so much after all, and gone + off in a huff, I expect. So much the better! What a time she is + over this, and how quiet she keeps! I wish I knew whether it + was coquetry or—shall I turn round and see? No, I must be + perfectly indifferent. And she <i>did</i> laugh at me. I + distinctly saw her. Still, if she's sorry, this would be an + excellent opportunity for—(<i>Aloud</i>.) Miss + PRENDERGAST! (<i>No reply—louder</i>.) May I take it that + you regret having been betrayed into momentary approbation of a + miserable piece of flippancy? If so, let me assure + you—(<i>Turns round—to discover that he is + addressing two little flaxen-haired girls in speckled + pinafores, who are regarding him open-mouthed</i>. Miss + PRENDERGAST <i>and</i> PODBURY <i>have disappeared</i>.) + PODBURY <i>again!</i> He must have planned this—with + <i>her</i>! It is too much. I have done—yes—done + with the pair of them! [<i>Strides off in bitter + indignation</i>.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>SCHOOL-BOY'S FIRST EXPERIENCE OF SMOKING.—One + sickarette,—and he never could do another. <i>O si sic + omnes</i>!</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page158" + id="page158"></a>[pg 158]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/158.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/158.png" + alt="LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE!" /></a> + + <h3>"LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE!"</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page159" + id="page159"></a>[pg 159]</span> + + <h3>"HOTEL ME, GENTLE STRANGER!"</h3> + + <p>[Mrs. WHEELER and Mrs. CUSTER, two literary ladies of New + York, are starting a hotel for women only.]</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Says Mrs. CUSTER to Mrs. WHEELER:</p> + + <p>"I propose we put out a 'promoting' feeler!"</p> + + <p>Says Mrs. WHEELER to Mrs. CUSTER,</p> + + <p>"Monopolist Males we shall greatly fluster;"</p> + + <p>'Hotel it not in Gath!' at present</p> + + <p>Till we have made things nice and pleasant.</p> + + <p>First rule—'No Rules!' O, of course male + noddies</p> + + <p>Will snigger at once, the superior bodies!</p> + + <p>But OSCAR WILDE must 'pull up his socks,'</p> + + <p>Ere he'll equal women at paradox.</p> + + <p>What I mean is this, in our 'Women's Hotel,'</p> + + <p>We'll have no such thing as the 'Curfew Bell,'</p> + + <p>And no fixed hour for the cry, 'Out lights!'</p> + + <p>We will give free way to true 'Woman's Rights,'</p> + + <p>Which are to thump, strum, tap, twirl, trill,</p> + + <p>From morn till night at her own sweet will.</p> + + <p>That's why we cherish, despite male spleen,</p> + + <p>Typewriter, Piano, and Sewing-Machine!</p> + + <p>The 'woodpecker tapping' is, indeed, not in it</p> + + <p>With Emancipate Woman—no, not for a + minute!</p> + + <p>Our Hotel will be, when we've won the battle,</p> + + <p>'The Paradise of unlimited Rattle,'</p> + + <p>'The Realm of the Spindle,' 'the Home of the + Duster!'"</p> + + <p>Says Mrs. WHEELER to Mrs. CUSTER.</p> + + <p>"Nought tabooed save Man! So comes Peace the + Healer!"</p> + + <p>Says Mrs. CUSTER to Mrs. WHEELER.</p> + + <p><i>Punch hopes</i> their Hotel may + flourish—only,</p> + + <p>Spots "Reserved for Ladies" are + often—lonely!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>THE GERMAN EMPEROR GOING NAP.—It now appears that the + words descriptive of NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE used by the German + Emperor, and to which the French took so strong an exception, + were not "<i>Le parvenu Corse</i>," but "<i>Le conquérant + Corse</i>," which, of course, makes all the difference. At this + banquet it would have been better had each course been omitted + from the <i>menu</i>.</p> + + <h4>A Vain Vaunt.</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>La belle France</i> boasts of being Art's true + henchman!</p> + + <p class="i2">That cosmopolitan claim she should be + mute on.</p> + + <p>"Art for Art's sake!" shouts the thrasonic + Frenchman,</p> + + <p class="i2">"Save when that Art is Teuton,"</p> + + <p>Though Art's not marred for him by subtle sin</p> + + <p>A German twang poisons e'en <i>Lohengrin</i>.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/159.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/159.png" + alt="INDISCRIMINATE CHARITY." /></a> + + <h3>INDISCRIMINATE CHARITY.</h3> + + <p><i>Benevolent Old Lady</i>. "NO, MR. SMITH; I SHALL NOT + CONTINUE MY SUBSCRIPTION TO YOUR CRICKET-GROUND ANY + LONGER—FOR I FIND YOU ALLOW IT TO BE USED IN THE + WINTER FOR PIGEON-SHOOTING!"</p> + + <p><i>Secretary to the Local Cricket Club</i>. "BUT, MADAM, + YOU CAN'T BE AWARE THAT WE SHOOT AT NOTHING BUT <i>CLAY + PIGEONS!</i>"</p> + + <p><i>B. O. L.</i> "I DON'T CARE <i>WHAT</i> THE BREED MAY + BE—IT'S EQUALLY CRUEL!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE ARMADA FROM THE SPANISH.</h2> + + <p class="center">(<i>Commenced by Mr. J.A. Froude and + concluded by the Duke of Medina Sidonia.</i>)</p> + + <p>It may be remembered that the English writer in <i>Longman's + Magazine</i>, had got to the point when after trying to get out + of the expedition by pleading poverty, incompetency, and + anything else I could think of, I was forced to go on my way to + England with apparent satisfaction. We had putrid pork and + mouldy biscuit, but still I informed the King that we were + "content and cheerful." Had I given him any other intelligence, + the chances are that he would have had my head—not a good + one, but sufficient to meet my modest requirements.</p> + + <p>Well, we sailed towards England, and as Mr. J.A. FROUDE has + already explained (quoting from my own letter to King PHILIP), + "knowing nothing of navigation," I soon made a bad shot. + Instead of going to Tilbury, I drifted towards Cronstadt, even + then a fortress of some consideration. I could tell you a great + deal more, were it not that I succumbed to sea-sickness and + gave up my command. The expedition was now, of course, + commanded by the steward, but the duties of his unpleasant + office left him but little time for directing an invasion. + Well, we got within reach of England when the wind began to + blow, and before I could hitch myself up with a marling-spike, + every man Jack of us was ready for Davy Jones's locker!</p> + + <p>But why should I dwell upon the events of the next few days? + We were out-manoeuvred and beaten. I myself took refuge in a + wood of mahogany trees, and it was my delight and my privilege + to supply the requirements of the British colony in all that + they desired. The result of this was that I and a few personal + friends took refuge in a forest in which mahogany trees + flourished. It was in this leafy prison that I supplied the + genuine old Armada mahogany "as advertised." I would be afraid + to say how many places I supplied with wood from the Armada. I + may hint that I know something of the tables at Westminster and + the benches of Gray's Inn. But there, that is many years ago, + and all I can say now is, "Heave away, boys," and "Three cheers + for the Don, the Keys, and the Donkey." I was the Don, the keys + were supplied to those who paid for them, and the donkeys could + defend themselves. The Armada was not a success, and after this + frank avowal, it seems to me that Mr. FROUDE need render no + further explanation. Surely the story of the Spanish Invasion + is copyright. And if it is, Mr. FROUDE has no right to tamper + with my work, the more especially as it is immediately + appropriated by that model of modern journalism the <i>Review + of Reviews</i>.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>PHILOSOPHICAL REFLECTION.—We have five senses. That's + quite enough. If we had a sixth sense, what a <i>new sense</i> + it would be!</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>"IN CELLAR DEEP."</h3> + + <p>(<i>Latest Up-to-Date Version of a celebrated Bacchanalian + ditty, as it might be revised by Dr. Mortimer Granville and Mr. + James Payn.</i>)</p> + + <p>["No one drinks alcoholic liquor (unless it be beer) to + quench thirst."—JAMES PAYN.]</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">In Cellar deep I sit and steep</p> + + <p class="i2">My soul in GRANVILLE'S logic.</p> + + <p>Companions mine, sound ale, good wine—</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>That</i> foils Teetotal + dodge—hic!</p> + + <p>With solemn pate our sages prate,</p> + + <p>The Pump-slaves neatly pinking.</p> + + <p>He's proved an ass, whose days <i>don't</i> pass</p> + + <p class="i4">In drinking, drinking, drinking!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>In water pure there's danger sure,</p> + + <p class="i2">All fizzle-pop's deceiving;</p> + + <p>And ginger-beer must make you queer</p> + + <p class="i2">(If GRANVILLE you're believing).</p> + + <p>Safe, on the whole, is Alcohol;</p> + + <p class="i2">It saves man's strength from sinking.</p> + + <p>I injure none, and have good f—fun.</p> + + <p class="i4">Whilst drinking, drinking, drinking!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Hic! Hic! Hooray!! New reasons gay</p> + + <p class="i2">For drink from doctors borrow!</p> + + <p>The last (<i>not</i> first) is simple thirst,</p> + + <p class="i2">Thatsh true—to LAWSON'S sorrow!</p> + + <p>Good Templarsh fain would "physic PAYN,"</p> + + <p class="i2">And GRANVILLE squelch like winking;</p> + + <p>But all the same, true + Wisdom's—hic—game</p> + + <p class="i4">Is drinking, drinking, drinking!</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p class="author">[<i>Left playing it</i>.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page160" + id="page160"></a>[pg 160]</span> + + <h2>MR. PUNCH'S NAVAL NOVEL.</h2> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Mr. Punch</i> has observed with much gratification + the success of various <i>brochures</i> professing to give, + under the disguise of retrospect, a prophetic but accurate + account of the naval battle of the immediate future. <i>Mr. + Punch</i> has read them carefully over and over again. For + some time he has been living, so to speak, in the midst of + magnificent iron-clad fleets. In vain have torpedoes been + launched on their occasionally death-dealing mission + against him, in vain have immense shells exploded in his + immediate neighbourhood. Nothing, not even the ramming of + one whole squadron by another, has succeeded in daunting + him. He has remained immovable in the midst of an appalling + explosion which reduced a ship's company to a heap of + toe-nails. And now, his mind fired by the crash of conflict + and the intoxication of almost universal slaughter, he + proposes to show the world how a naval novel that means to + be accurate as well as vivid, to be bought by the public in + thousands as well as to teach useful lessons to politicians + and sailors, ought really to be written. <i>Mr. Punch</i> + may as well state that he has <i>not</i> submitted this + story to any naval experts. His facts speak for themselves, + and require no merely professional approval to enhance + their value.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <h3>WHO'D BE A SAILOR?</h3> + + <h3>(<i>A Story of Blood and Battle</i>.)</h3> + + <h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + + <p>Listen, my Grandchildren! for you are mine, not indeed by + the ridiculous accident of birth (since to speak the truth I am + an unmarried old sea-dog), but by the far higher and more + honourable title of having been selected by me to hear this + yarn. You know well enough that such a tale <i>must</i> be told + to grandchildren, and since you undoubtedly possessed + grandparents, and have been hired at a shilling an hour to + listen to me, I have every right to address you as I did. + Therefore I say, my grandchildren, attend to what I am about to + relate. You who live under the beneficent sway of the mighty + Australo-Canado-Africo-Celto-Americo-Anglian Federation of + Commonwealths, can have no notion of the degraded conditions + under which I, your grandfather, and the rest of my miserable + fellow-countrymen lived fifty years ago in the year 1892. + Naturally you have read no books of history referring to any + date anterior to 1902. The wretched records of ignorance, + slavery and decrepitude have been justly expunged from your + curriculum. Let me tell you then that a little country calling + itself the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland at that + time arrogated to itself the leadership of the mighty countries + which you now call your home. You smile and refer me to a + large-sized map on which, as you justly observe, this country + occupies a space of not more than two square inches. Your + surprise is intelligible, but the melancholy fact remains. All + this has now been happily changed, and changed too in + consequence of a war in which England (for so the country was + often inaccurately called, except upon Scotch political + platforms, where people naturally objected to the name) in + which, as I say, England bore the chief part and obtained the + decisive victory. The story of this war I am now about to + relate to you.</p> + + <h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + + <p>War had been declared. We had known for a long time that it + was coming. For months past the bellicose bench of Bishops had + been preaching war in all the Cathedrals of the land. Field + Marshal the Duke of WOLSELEY, who was then a simple lord, had + written articles in all the prominent American reviews, and had + proved to demonstration that with 50,000 boys and the new + patent revolving ammunition belt, Britain (for that too was the + name of my late country) was ready to defy and conquer the + world. Rear-Admiral and Lieutenant-General Sir WILLIAM T. + STEAD, G.C.B., C.S.I., K.G., V.C.—the great journalist in + the shade of whose colossal mounted statue we are now + sitting—had suddenly become a convert to the doctrine + that war is the great purifier, and had offered in a spirit of + extraordinary self-abnegation to command both the Army and the + Fleet in action. Volunteer corps armed with scythes, + paper-knives, walking-sticks and umbrellas had sprung up all + over the country, and had provided their own uniforms and + equipment. Lord RANDOLPH CHURCHILL, father of the present Earl + of South Africa, had been recalled to office by an alarmed + country, and had united in his own person the offices of + Secretary of State for War, First Lord of the Admiralty, + Premier, Chancellor of the Exchequer and Lord Privy Seal. As a + first step towards restoring confidence, he had, with his own + hands, beheaded the former Prime Minister, the Marquis of + SALISBURY, and had published a cheap and popular edition of his + epoch-making Letters from Mashonaland. His Lordship's official + residence had been established at the Amphitryon Club where + they still preserve on constant relays of ice the <i>Bécassine + bardée aux truffes</i> which Lord RANDOLPH was about to eat + when he snubbed the united ambassadors of Germany, France, + Austria, Russia, Italy and the Republic of Andorra. The + immediate consequence was a declaration of war against us.</p> + + <h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/160-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/160-1.png" + alt="The Explosion. " /></a> The Explosion. + </div> + + <p>I was at that time in command of H.M.S. <i>Bandersnatch</i>, + a vessel of nine hundred thousand horse-power, and a mean + average displacement of four hundred thousand tons. Ah, the + dear old <i>Bandersnatch!</i> Never can I forget the thrill of + exquisite emotion which pervaded my inmost being as I stepped + on board in mid-ocean. Everything was in apple-pie order. + Bulkheads, girders, and beams shone like glass in the noonday + sun. The agile torpedo-catchers had been practising their + sports, and I could not resist a feeling of intense pride when + I learnt that only fifty of these heroic fellows had that + morning perished owing to the accidental explosion of one of + their charming playthings at the very crisis of the game. The + racers of the after-guns had been out for their morning's + exercise. Indeed the saddles had only just been removed, and + the noble animals were now enjoying a good square meal of corn + in their bombproof stable. Keep your animals in good fettle, + and they'll never shirk their work: that was always my motto, + and right well has it answered. The roaring furnaces, the + cylindrical boilers, the prisoned steam, the twin screws, the + steel shot that crashes like thunder, the fearful impact of the + ram, the blanching terror of the supreme moment, the shattered + limbs and scattered heads,—all these were ready, waiting + but for the pressure of my finger on the middle button of the + boatswain's mess-waistcoat to speed forth upon their deadly + work between the illustrated covers of a shilling pamphlet.</p> + + <h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + + <p>In another moment the enemy's fleet had hove in sight. Our + movements in the ten minutes preceding the fatal conflict will + be best understood by consulting the annexed + diagram:—</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/160-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/160-2.png" + alt="Sailor thumbing nose." /></a> + </div><p>We advanced in this imposing order for five minutes. Then + came a puff of smoke, and, in less time than it takes to tell + it, two thousand men had been literally blown into thin air, + their sole remnant being the left shoe of my trusty second in + command, Captain GLIMDOWSE. I trained the two turret-guns until + I had got them into perfect condition, and gave the word. The + crash that followed was terrific. One of the massive missiles + went home, and stayed there, no amount of inducement availing + to bring it out again to face the battle. The other, however, + behaved as a British missile should, and exploded in the heart + of the hostile fleet. The result was terrific. French, German + and Russian Admirals by the thousand were destroyed, their + scattered fragments literally darkening the face of the sun, + and a mixed shower of iron, steel, stanchions, bollards, + monster guns, Admirals, sailors, stewards, cocked-hats, and + Post Captains fell for ten minutes without intermission from + the clouds into which they had been driven by the awful + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page161" + id="page161"></a>[pg 161]</span> force of the explosion. I + turned to my Lieutenant, who was standing beside me, to give + a necessary order. As I was about to address him, the + machine-guns in the enemy's tops belched forth a myriad + projectiles, and the unfortunate Lieutenant was swept into + eternity. All that was left of him was his right hand, + which, curiously enough, remained for a minute suspended in + the air in its proper relative position to what had been the + Lieutenant's body. I mastered my emotion with an effort, as + I reverently grasped and shook the melancholy relic. Then, + shedding a silent tear, I dropped it over the side, and with + an aching heart, watched it disappear beneath the wave on + which many of its former owner's happiest hours had been + spent.</p> + + <h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> + + <p>This catastrophe ended the battle. The allied fleets had + been swept off the face of the ocean. I packed what remained of + H.M.S. <i>Bandersnatch</i> in my tobacco-pouch, attached myself + to a hen-coop, and thus floated triumphantly into Portsmouth + Harbour.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>CHARLEMAGNE AND I.</h2> + + <p><i>Aix-la-Chapelle, Monday</i>.—I have always had a + strange longing to know CHARLEMAGNE. To shake him by the hand, + to have opportunity of inquiring after his health and that of + his family, to hear his whispered reply—that indeed were + bliss. But CHARLEMAGNE is dead, and desire must be curbed. The + only thing open to an admirer is to visit the place of his last + repose, and brood in spots his shade may yet haunt. CHARLEMAGNE + was buried at Aix-la-Chapelle (German Aachen), but since my + arrival in the town, I find great difficulty in discovering his + tomb. The great soldier Emperor resembled an unfortunate and + unskilful pickpocket in one respect. He was always being taken + up. He died in the year 814, and was left undisturbed till the + year 1000, when the Emperor OTTO THE THIRD opened his tomb, + and, finding his great predecessor sitting on a marble chair, + helped him down. The marble chair is on view in the Cathedral + to this day (verger, I mark) to witness to the truth of this + narrative. One hundred and sixty-five years later, FREDERICK + BARBAROSSA opened the second tomb where OTHO had placed C., and + transferred to a marble sarcophagus what, at this date, was + left of him. In the following century C. was canonised. + Whereupon nothing would satisfy FREDERICK THE SECOND but to go + for the bones again. They were now growing scarce, and only a + few fragments fill the reliquary in which at length all that is + left of my revered friend (if after this lapse of time I may + call him so) reposes.</p> + + <p>I have been fortunate in securing a relic, not exactly of + CAROLO, but of the time at or about which he lived. It is a + piece of tapestry, on which fingers long since dust have worked + a sketch of the Emperor going to his bath. Considering its age, + the tapestry is in remarkably fresh condition. The old Hebrew + trader, whom for a consideration I induced to part with it, + said he would not charge any more on that account; which I + thought very considerate. He also said he might be able to get + me some more pieces. But this, I think, will do to go on + with.</p> + + <p>But if there be nothing left of CAROLO MAGNO, there still is + the city he loved, in which he lived and died. Here is the + Kaiserquelle, bubbling out of Büchel in which, centuries ago, + he laved his lordly limbs. Going down into my bath this morning + I observed in the dim light the imprint of a footstep on the + marble stair.</p> + + <p>"That might have been CHARLEMAGNE'S," I said to YAHKOB, my + bath attendant.</p> + + <p>"<i>Ja wohl</i>," said YAHKOB, nodding in his friendly way, + and, going out, he presently returned with a hot towel.</p> + + <p>That did not seem to follow naturally upon my observation, + which was, indeed, born of idle fancy. (I know very well C.'s + death eventuated long prior to the building of the stately + colonnade that fronts the present baths, and that therefore the + footprint is illusory.) I am growing used to a certain + irrelevancy in YAHKOB's conversation. My German is of the date + of CHARLEMAGNE, and is no more understood here than is the + Greek of SOCRATES in the streets of Athens. YAHKOB was + especially told off for my service because he thoroughly + understood and talked English. He says, "Ye-es" and "Ver well." + But when I offer a chance remark he, three times out of five, + nods intelligently, bolts off and brings me something + back—a comb and brush, a newspaper, but oftenest, a hot + towel. Once, when I asked him whether there were two posts a + day to London, he lugged in an arm-chair.</p> + + <p>I get on better with WILLIAM. WILLIAM is a rubber—not + of whist, <i>bien entendu</i>, but of men. In build WILLIAM is + pear-shaped, the upper part of him, where you would expect to + find the stalk, broadening out into a perpetual smile. He has + lived in the Baths twenty-three years, and yet his gaiety is + not eclipsed. If he has a foible it is his belief that he + thoroughly understands London and its ways.</p> + + <p>"A ver big place," he remarked this morning, "where dey + kills de ladees."</p> + + <p>This reference not being immediately clear, WILLIAM assisted + dull comprehension by drawing his finger across his throat, and + uttering a jovial "click!" But it was only when, his eyes + brimming over with fun, he said, "YAK de Reeper," that I + followed the drift of his remark.</p> + + <p>It is gratifying to the citizen of London travelling abroad, + to learn that in the mind of the foreigner the great Metropolis + is primarily and chiefly associated with "JACK the Ripper" and + his exploits.</p> + + <p>"I rob you not hard," WILLIAM incidentally remarks, pounding + at your chest as if it were a parquet flooring he was + polishing; "but I strong so I can break a shentleman's + ribs."</p> + + <p>I make due acknowledgment of the prowess, being particularly + careful to refrain from expressing doubt, or even surprise. + WILLIAM, always smiling, repeats the assertion just as if I had + contradicted him. Try to change subject.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/161.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/161.png" + alt="I would break hees ribs!" /></a> "I would break hees ribs!" + </div> + + <p>"I wonder if CHARLEMAGNE had a massage man in his suite?" I + say, "and who was his Doctor? Now if he had had Dr. BRANDIS, I + believe he would have been alive at this day. But we cannot + have everything. CHARLEMAGNE had the Iron Crown of Lombardy; we + have Dr. BRANDIS."</p> + + <p>"Y e e s," said WILLIAM, still gloating over his own train + of thought; "eef I like I break a shentleman's ribs."</p> + + <p>Sometimes WILLIAM'S smile, contracting, breaks into a + whistle, horribly out of tune. He rather fancies his musical + powers, and is proud of his intimate acquaintance with the + fashionable <i>chansons</i> current in London to-day, or as he + puts it, "Vat dey shings at de Carrelton Clob." Then he warbles + a line of the happily long-forgotten "Champagne CHARLIE," with + intervals of "Oh what a surprise!" He sings both to the same + tune, and fortunately knows only two lines of one and a single + line of the other.</p> + + <p>Try to bring him back to CAROLO MAGNO.</p> + + <p>"Wouldn't you," I ask "give all you are worth to have lived + in the time of CHARLEMAGNE? Suppose some day you walked into + this room and discovered him sitting on his marble throne as + OTHO found him with the Iron Crown on his head and his right + hand grasping the imperial sceptre, what would you do?"</p> + + <p>"I would break hees ribs," said WILLIAM, his face illumined + by a sudden flash of delighted anticipation.</p> + + <p>Alack! we are thinking of two personages sundered by + centuries. My mind dwells on CHARLEMAGNE, whilst WILLIAM is + evidently thinking of Champagne CHARLIE.</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>"ANNALS OF A VERY QUIET FAMILY."</h3> + + <p>There were eight of us, each within a year or so of one + another.</p> + + <p>Father was a very quiet man, engaged all day in his + study.</p> + + <p>Mother was equally quiet.</p> + + <p>Father would never allow a trumpet, drum, or any instrument + of torture, except the piano, to be brought into the house.</p> + + <p>Mother quietly saw his orders carried out.</p> + + <p>In due course we all left home one after the other, and + having been so quiet for so long, each one of us has contrived + to make a considerable noise in the world since, and are all + doing well. "Doing" may be used in the widest possible sense. + Among other accomplishments we blow our own trumpets, as you + see. As father and mother object to noise, we have not + encouraged their visits.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page162" + id="page162"></a>[pg 162]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/162.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/162.png" + alt="DEA EX MACHINÂ!" /></a> + + <h3>DEA EX MACHINÂ!</h3>(<i>A Reminiscence</i>.) + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>"AS <i>HE</i>'D LIKE IT."</h2> + + <p class="center">(<i>Shakspeare once more freely adapted to + the situation.</i>)</p> + + <blockquote> + ["We wanted, and we want, to do for the villages, what the + first reformed Parliament did in conferring municipal + government upon the towns. We knew that the Tory Party did + not really mean to give us village or parish Councils.... + 'The Radical agitators,' says Sir MICHAEL HICKS-BEACH, + 'want to see a complete change in the social condition of + rural society.' What if we do?... Why, it was for this that + many of us, seven or eight years ago, and many more years + ago, fought for getting the labourer a vote."—<i>Mr. + John Morley at Cambridge</i>.] + </blockquote> + + <p class="center">SCENE—<i>The Forest of + Ha</i>(<i>w</i>)<i>arden</i>.</p> + + <p><i>Touchstone</i> (Mr. J-HN M-RL-Y); <i>Audrey</i>, (The + Agricultural Vote); <i>Jaques</i> (Mr. P-NCH), behind. + Afterwards <i>William</i> (Sir M-CH-L H-CKS-B-CH.)</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Come apace, good AUDREY: I will fetch up your + votes, AUDREY. And how, AUDREY?—am I the man yet? Doth my + simple programme content you?</p> + + <p><i>Audrey.</i> Your programme! Lord warrant us, what + programme?</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> I am here with thee and thy Votes as the + glittering poet-god Apollo was among the herds of Admetus.</p> + + <p><i>Jaq.</i> (<i>aside</i>). Oh, knowledge oddly applied! + Fancy Olympian Oracles in a thatched cottage!</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> When a man's speeches cannot be understood, + nor a man's good platform wit seconded by the froward child + popular understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a small + minority on a big Bill. Truly, I would the gods had made thee + political.</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> I do not know what political is. Is it honest in + deed and word? Is it a true thing?</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> (<i>with sardonic frankness</i>). No, truly; + for the truest politics show the most feigning; and Tories are + given to politics; and what they swear, in politics, may be + said, as Tories, they do feign.</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> Do you wish, then, that the gods had made + <i>me</i> political?</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> I do, truly; for they swear to me thou art + true Tory, parson-and-squire-ridden Tory. Now, if thou wert + political, I might have some hope thou didst feign—to + <i>them</i>!</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> Would you not have me Tory?</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> No, truly, unless thou wert fortune-favoured; + for Toryism coupled to poverty is to have folly a sauce to + misery.</p> + + <p><i>Jaq.</i> (<i>aside</i>). A shrewd fool!</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> Well, I am not rich; and therefore I pray the + gods to make me Liberal.</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Truly, and to cast away Liberalism upon a + willingly "unemancipated" Voter, were to deck a porker with + pearls.</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> I may not be "emancipated," but I thank the gods + I am "enfranchised."</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Well, praised be the Liberals for thine + enfranchisement! Emancipation—from "squarsonry"—may + come hereafter. But, be it as it may, I will marry thee.</p> + + <p><i>Jaq.</i> (<i>aside</i>). I would fain see this wedding. + Methinks there will be sport forward ere it be fully + achieved.</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> Well, the gods give us joy!</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Amen.... But, AUDREY, there is a youth here in + the forest lays claim to you.</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> Ay, I know who 'tis: he hath no interest in me + in the world. Here comes the man you mean.</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> It is meat and drink to me to see + a—Tory: by my troth, we that have good wits have much to + answer for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold.</p> + + <p class="center"><i>Enter</i> WILLIAM.</p> + + <p><i>Will.</i> Good even, AUDREY.</p> + + <p><i>Aud.</i> Give ye good even, WILLIAM.</p> + + <p><i>Will.</i> And good even to you, Sir!</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Good even, gentle friend.... Art thou + wise?</p> + + <p><i>Will.</i> Ay, Sir, I have a pretty wit.</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> You do desire this maid?</p> + + <p><i>Will.</i> I do, Sir.</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Give me your hand. Art thou learned?</p> + + <p><i>Will.</i> No, Sir.</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Then learn this of me; to have is to have; for + it is a great figure in Gladstonian rhetoric, that votes being + deducted from one Party and added to another, by putting the + one Out do put the other In; for all your writers do consent + that <i>ipse</i> is he: now you are not <i>ipse</i>, for I am + he.</p> + + <p><i>Will.</i> Which he, Sir?</p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> He, Sir, that must marry the woman. Therefore, + you Tory, abandon—which is, in the vulgar, + leave—the society, which in the boorish is, + company—of this female,—which in the common is, + woman; which together is, abandon the society of this female, + or Tory, thou vanishest; or, to thy better understanding, + skedaddlest; or, to wit, I defeat thee, make thee away, + translate thy majority into minority, thine Office into + Opposition; I will deal in programmes with thee, or in + eloquence, or in epigram; I will bandy with thee in faction; I + will o'errun thee with policy; I will "mend thee or end thee" a + hundred and fifty ways; therefore, tremble, and depart!</p> + + <p class="center">SONG (<i>behind</i>).</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It was a lover and his lass,</p> + + <p class="i2">With a hey, and a ho, and a hey + nonino,</p><!--page 164 blank page--> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page165" + id="page165"></a>[pg 165]</span> + + <p>That o'er the stubble fields did pass</p> + + <p class="i2">(Together WILL caught 'em).</p> + + <p class="i2">In the time of autumn,</p> + + <p>When M.P.'s spout, and "manoeuvre" about;</p> + + <p class="i2">M.P.'s (who are "out") love autumn.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>About three acres and a cow,</p> + + <p class="i2">With a hey, and a ho, and a hey + nonino;</p> + + <p>The artful country folks know now.</p> + + <p class="i2">In the time of autumn, &c.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Since that the franchise was their dower,</p> + + <p class="i2">With a hey, and a ho, and a hey + nonino,</p> + + <p>The Country Voters are a power.</p> + + <p class="i2">In the time of autumn, &c.</p> + </div> + + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And, therefore, at the present time,</p> + + <p class="i2">With "an Agricultural + Policy"—funny, ho!—</p> + + <p><i>Both</i> Parties simple HODGE would lime,</p> + + <p class="i2">In the time of autumn, &c.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p><i>Will.</i> (<i>aside</i>). Truly, though there is no great + matter in the ditty, yet the note is very untuneable.</p> + + <p class="author">[<i>Exit.</i></p> + + <p><i>Touch.</i> Trip, AUDREY, trip, AUDREY,—I + attend,—I attend!</p> + + <p class="author">[<i>Exeunt.</i></p> + + <p><i>Jaq.</i> (<i>appearing</i>). There is surely another + political deluge forward, and these motley would-be couples are + seeking the official ark!</p> + + <p class="author">[<i>Exit.</i></p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page163" + id="page163"></a>[pg 163]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/163.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/163.png" + alt="William, Touchstone and Audrey." /></a> + + <p><i>William</i>. . . SIR M-CH-L H-CKS-B-CH. + <i>Touchstone</i>. . . J-HN M-RL-Y. <i>Audrey</i>. . . THE + AGRICULTURAL VOTE.</p> + + <h4>"AS <i>HE</i>'D LIKE IT."</h4>SCENE—<i>The Forest + of Ha(w)arden.</i> + + <p>TOUCHSTONE. "I AM HE THAT MUST MARRY THIS WOMAN! + THEREFORE, YOU CLOWN, ABANDON THE SOCIETY OF THIS + FEMALE;... I WILL BANDY WITH THEE IN FACTION; I WILL + O'ERRUN THEE WITH POLICY; THEREFORE, TREMBLE, AND + DEPART!"—<i>As You Like It</i>, Act V., Scene 1.</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE TRUE TENNYSON.</h2> + + <p>We have all been startled to find from the researches of Mr. + WOODALL in <i>Notes and Queries</i>, that "Between the story + sung by the Poet Laureate in his romantic poem <i>The Lord of + Burleigh</i>, and the actual fact, there seems to be little in + common." HENRY CECIL, Earl and afterwards Marquis of EXETER, + married Miss SARAH HOGGINS under the name of JOHN JONES, having + a wife alive at the time, and she did not die as the poem + relates. It is obvious then that TENNYSON must be re-written, + and we offer his Lordship the following humble suggestions. + <i>The Lord of Burleigh</i> should henceforward run somewhat as + follows:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Quoth he, "Gentle SARAH HOGGINS,"</p> + + <p class="i2">Speaking in seductive tones,</p> + + <p>"You must wed no HODGE or SCROGGINS,</p> + + <p class="i2">But espouse your own J. JONES."</p> + + <p>Oh! he was an artful party,</p> + + <p class="i2">And that marriage was a crime.</p> + + <p>He'd a wife alive and hearty,</p> + + <p class="i2">Though she'd left him for a time.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>The above discovery has, of course, led to doubts regarding + other Tennysonian heroines. Was Lady CLARA VERE DE VERE, for + example, as black as the poet has painted her? Perish the + thought! Here are a couple of specimen stanzas for an amended + version:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Lady CLARA VERE DE VERE,</p> + + <p class="i2">I vow that you were not a flirt,</p> + + <p>The daughter of a hundred Earls</p> + + <p class="i2">Would not a single creature hurt.</p> + + <p>"Kind hearts are more than coronets,"</p> + + <p class="i2">What abject twaddle, on my word;</p> + + <p>And then the joke is in the end,—</p> + + <p class="i2">We know they made the bard a Lord.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The tale of how young LAURENCE died,</p> + + <p class="i2">In some audacious print began;</p> + + <p>The fact is that he took to drink,</p> + + <p class="i2">He always was that sort of man.</p> + + <p>And as for ALFRED, why, of course</p> + + <p class="i2">You snubbed him; but was that a + crime,</p> + + <p>That he should go and call you names,</p> + + <p class="i2">And print his atrabilious rhyme?</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>Then, again, was the <i>Amy</i> of <i>Locksley Hall</i> + quite as shallow-hearted and so forth as the angry rhymester + declares? It will probably turn out that she was not. Hence the + verses should run in this fashion:—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And I said, "My Cousin AMY, speak the truth, my + heart to ease.</p> + + <p>Shall it be by banns or license?" And she whispered, + "Which you please."</p> + + <p>Love took up the glass of Time and waved it gaily in + the air,</p> + + <p>Married life was sweet at Number Twenty-Six in + Camden Square.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>AMY faithless! Bless your heart, Sir, that was not + the case at all:</p> + + <p>It was pure imagination that I wrote in Locksley + Hall.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>This process will doubtless have to be applied to many of + the poems, but we must leave the congenial task to the + Laureate.</p> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/165.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/165.png" + alt="THEY'VE BOILED THE PORCELAIN NEST-EGG!" /></a> + + <p><i>George</i> (<i>about to enjoy the first new-laid Egg + from the recently set-up Fowl-house</i>). + "WHY—CONF—THEY'VE BOILED THE PORCELAIN + NEST-EGG!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>A SONNET OF VAIN DESIRE.</h3> + + <h4>AFTER THE HOLIDAYS.</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>As when th' industrious windmill vainly yearns</p> + + <p class="i2">To pause, and scratch its swallow-haunted + head,</p> + + <p>Yet at the wind's relentless urging turns</p> + + <p class="i2">Its flying arms in wild appeal + outspread;</p> + + <p>So am I vex'd by vain desire, that burns</p> + + <p class="i2">These barren places whence the hair hath + fled,</p> + + <p>To wander far amid the woodland ferns,</p> + + <p class="i2">Where dewdrops shine along the gossamer + thread;</p> + + <p>Where its own sunlight on the reddening leaf</p> + + <p class="i2">Sleeps, when soft mists have swathed the + sunless tree,</p> + + <p>Or where the innumerous billows merrily dance;</p> + + <p>Yet must I busily dissemble grief</p> + + <p>Whirl'd in the pitiless round of circumstance,</p> + + <p class="i2">Rigid with trained respectability.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h4>New Way out of a Wager.</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>DESMOND, Theosophist Colonel, now thinks better</p> + + <p class="i2">Of his rash vow his gift to + "demonstrate,"</p> + + <p>Receiving a "precipitated letter"</p> + + <p class="i2">Warning him not to + be—precipitate.</p> + + <p>Many a Betting Man who'd hedge or tack</p> + + <p>Must wish he had Mahatmas at <i>his</i> back.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h4>The Beggar's Petition.</h4> + + <p class="center">(<i>New Version</i>.)</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Life must not be lost, Sir, with lightness,</p> + + <p class="i2">To <i>labour</i> for life gives me + pain;</p> + + <p>My exchequer's affected with tightness,</p> + + <p>But begging's the pink of politeness,</p> + + <p class="i2">Like Scribes, Sir, "I beg—to + <i>remain!</i>" *</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>* And didn't CHARLES LAMB, in his most delightful essay + <i>On the Decay of Beggars</i>, deplore their gradual + disappearance?</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>DOCTOR LAURIE.</h3> + + <p><i>Song by a Scotch Student</i>. AIR—"<i>Annie + Laurie</i>."</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>["According to Dr. LAURIE, of Edinburgh University, the + "teaching of Greek, so far as it is attempted in our + secondary schools, is positively harmful."—<i>Daily + News</i>.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Pedagogue brays are bonnie,</p> + + <p class="i2">When Greek they'd fain taboo;</p> + + <p>And 'tis here that Doctor LAURIE</p> + + <p class="i2">Gi'es utterance strictly true,</p> + + <p class="i2">Gi'es utterance strictly true,</p> + + <p class="i2">Which ne'er forgot should be,</p> + + <p>And for bonnie Doctor LAURIE,</p> + + <p class="i2">A Scottish boy would dee.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Auld HOMER is a humbug,</p> + + <p class="i2">ANACREON is an ass;</p> + + <p>Sumphs scrape enoo o' baith o' them,</p> + + <p class="i2">The "Little-go" to pass,</p> + + <p class="i2">The Little-go to pass—</p> + + <p class="i2">It affects them "harmfullee."</p> + + <p>Ah! but bonnie Doctor LAURIE,</p> + + <p class="i2">He kens Greek's a' my ee!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Like diplomas fause and lying,</p> + + <p class="i2">Are "passes" such as this.</p> + + <p>Why should Scotch lads sit sighing</p> + + <p class="i2">O'er the <i>Anabasis</i>?—</p> + + <p class="i2">O'er the <i>Anabasis</i>?</p> + + <p class="i2">XENOPHON's fiddle-de-dee?</p> + + <p>Oh, for bonnie Doctor LAURIE,</p> + + <p>I'd shout with three times three!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>UNDER-LYNE'D.—Said Sir W. VERNON HARCOURT, at + Ashton-under-Lyne, "I am very glad to be enabled to come here + from the hospitable roof of Mr. RUPERT MASON." ... And again, + "I have come here also from the roof of Mr. MATHER." Quite a + Sir WILLIAM ROOFUS! But what was he doing on the roof? Was + there a tile off in each case? Something wrong with the first + house that a Mason couldn't set right? And with the second, did + Sir ROOFUS sing, "Oh dear, what can the Mather be?" And why the + invidious distinction between the two roofs? The first being + hospitable, and the second having no pleasant epithet to + recommend it.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>PROPOSED NEW TITLE FOR LORD GR-M-TH-RPE.—Baron + (H)ALTER EGO.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page166" + id="page166"></a>[pg 166]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/166.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/166.png" + alt="A LANCASHIRE WATERING-PLACE." /></a> + + <h3>A LANCASHIRE WATERING-PLACE.</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page167" + id="page167"></a>[pg 167]</span> + + <h3>POPULAR SONGS RE-SUNG;</h3> + + <h4>OR, MISS BOWDLER AT THE MUSIC HALLS.</h4> + + <h4>INTRODUCTORY.</h4> + + <p>DEAR MR. PUNCH,</p> + + <p>In these progressive days earnest reformers, especially + those of the London County Council type, yearn to chasten and + æstheticise the Muse of the Music Hall, who is perhaps the only + really popular Muse of the period. My name gives me a sort of + hereditary right to take exceptional interest in such matters, + though indeed my respected, and respectable, ancestor is not in + all things the model of his more catholic and cosmopolitan + descendant. The McDougall regimen would doubtless be a little + <i>too</i> drastic. To improve the Music-hall Song off the face + of the earth, is an attempt which could only suggest itself to + puritan fanaticism in its most arbitrary administrative form. + The proletariat will not "willingly let die" the only Muse + whose ministrations really "come home to its business and its + bosom." No, Sir, the People's Pegasus cannot, must not be + ruthlessly consigned to the knackers. But may it not be gently + bitted, discreetly bridled, and taught to trot or amble with + park-hack paces in the harness of Respectability?</p> + + <p>It is in this hope and faith that the following drawing-room + versions of some of "the most popular Comic (and Sentimental) + Songs of the Day" have been attempted by</p> + + <blockquote> + Your respectful admirer,<br /> + VIRGINIA BOWDLER. + </blockquote> + + <p>To the Respectable Citizen, the Moral Matron, and the Young + Person, with a love of larkiness and lilt, but a distrust of + politics, pugilism, and deep potations, the following eclectic + adaptation of this prodigiously popular ballad may perhaps be + not altogether unwelcome.</p> + + <p>No. I.—TWO LOVELY BROWN EYES,</p> + + <p>AIR—"<i>Two Lovely Black Eyes</i>".</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Strolling one Sunday near Bethnal Green,</p> + + <p>This "æsthete" you might have seen,</p> + + <p>Surveying "the People" with scornful spleen</p> + + <p class="i4">When, oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p>An Art Exhibition I chanced to see,</p> + + <p>Therein I entered right speed-i-lee,</p> + + <p>When—on a canvas—there shone on me</p> + + <p class="i4">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">Smiling right down on a dingy throng,</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>From a canvas of "High Art" sort they shone,</p> + + <p>Their owner was cinctured with classic zone,</p> + + <p>She was spare of flesh, she was big in bone,</p> + + <p class="i4">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p>A parson, whom everyone owned "a good sort,"</p> + + <p>Had hung them there for the pleasure and sport</p> + + <p>Of the dreary dwellers in slum and court,</p> + + <p class="i4">Those lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">Drawing the gaze of an East-End + crowd,</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>My own regard, as I loitered there,</p> + + <p>Fastened on one proletariat pair,</p> + + <p>With finery frowsy, and oily hair;</p> + + <p class="i4">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p>"SALLIE" and "BILL" were the names they flung</p> + + <p>Frankly abroad with unreticent tongue,</p> + + <p>Lounging and staring where graciously hung</p> + + <p class="i4">Those lovely brown eyes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh. what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">SALLIE and BILL your calm beauty could + thrill;</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Art (so I argue) for all is best,</p> + + <p>Here, in the East, on the Day of Rest,</p> + + <p>Lo! my pet theory put to the test!</p> + + <p class="i4">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p>The chap staring there is a Coster true,</p> + + <p>Trowsered in corduroy, belchered in blue;</p> + + <p>What does <i>he</i> think of your heavenly hue,</p> + + <p class="i4">Two lovely brown eyes?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">"SALLIE", he whispered, "<i>she's</i> + got, like <i>you</i>,</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:30%;"> + <a href="images/167.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/167.png" + alt="Bill and Sallie" /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The picture was one of BURNE-JONES'S best;</p> + + <p>"SALLIE" was snub-nosed and showily drest;</p> + + <p>I sought her visage in querulous quest,</p> + + <p class="i4">When oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p>Plump in the midst of a "puddingy" face,</p> + + <p>Coarse-cut in feature, devoid of grace,</p> + + <p>Nature capricious had chosen to place</p> + + <p class="i4">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">There on each side of a salient + "snub,"</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Brown? Ah, yes! But, alack! alack!</p> + + <p>The brown was fringed with a halo of + <i>black</i>,</p> + + <p>Fruit, it was plain of some marital thwack,</p> + + <p class="i4">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p>"<i>She</i>," sighed the girl, "has a beautiful + chump,</p> + + <p>Though she <i>do</i> seem to 'ave got the 'ump.</p> + + <p><i>Them</i> pair o' lamps never felt a thump,</p> + + <p class="i4"><i>Them</i> lovely brown eyes!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">Something seemed telling that man he was + wrong,</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Say, was it fancy? I saw a flush</p> + + <p>O'er the coarse cheeks of that Coster rush,</p> + + <p>"Stash it!" he murmured. A Coster blush?</p> + + <p class="i4">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p>SALLIE,—she clung to his muscular + arm—</p> + + <p>With a look half lovingness, half alarm,</p> + + <p>He stooped and—kissed her! Now, was it + <i>your</i> charm,</p> + + <p class="i4">Two lovely brown eyes?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">Was it your influence, gentle yet + strong,</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"BILL," whispered she, "you may bet two <i>d</i></p> + + <p><i>She</i> never nagged at 'er bloke—like + <i>me</i>—</p> + + <p class="i4">He never wheeled a whelk-barrer, d'yer + see?</p> + + <p class="i6">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">Parties with cultcher and piles + o'cash</p> + + <p class="i4">Ain't no temptation to row or bash,</p> + + <p class="i4">But—who's to tell but she's jilted + '<i>er</i> mash—</p> + + <p class="i6">Miss Lovely Brown Heyes?"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">Twinkled like stars 'twixt a tear and a + frown,</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The moral you've caught I can hardly doubt;</p> + + <p>On Art <i>versus</i> Morals men sneer or shout,</p> + + <p>Leave it to OSCAR to fight <i>that</i> out,</p> + + <p class="i4">If you would be wise.</p> + + <p>Better, far better, it is to let</p> + + <p>Beautiful things work their way—you bet!</p> + + <p>Then the Coster's wife may less frequently wet</p> + + <p class="i4"><i>Her</i> lovely brown eyes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i20"><i>Chorus</i>.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + + <p class="i10">Oh, what a surprise!</p> + + <p class="i4">Art-loving-Man is <i>less</i> likely to + black</p> + + <p class="i10">Two lovely brown eyes!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>MEN OF THE PAST.</h3> + + <h4>(COMPILED BY <i>THE</i> MAN OF THE PRESENT.)</h4> + + <p>CROMWELL.—An English Brewer. Uncertain about his + aspirates. Distinctly vulgar. Face disfigured by warts.</p> + + <p>PETER THE GREAT.—Quite a common sort of Russian. Man + with coarse tastes. Came to England to learn ship-building. + Fond of low society; in fact, the type of an enterprising + cad.</p> + + <p>WASHINGTON.—Entirely provincial English rebel, who + caused considerable trouble in America. Family fair, but not to + be traced beyond three generations. Used to eat peas with his + knife.</p> + + <p>HANNIBAL.—Brutal barbarian. Feeblest ideas of stategy. + Went the wrong way over the Alps. Given to oaths from childhood + up. Quite a classical nobody.</p> + + <p>BUONAPARTE.—A Corsican <i>Parvenu</i>.</p> + <hr class="short" /> + + <h4>The Garrick School.</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>School for young actors is the Garrick + Playhouse.</p> + + <p>Upon the road to fame a quarter-way house</p> + + <p>For IRVING <i>fils</i>. And likewise note we + there</p> + + <p>The heir apparent of a parent HARE.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p>"<i>DIO, age</i>!" of which the classic American translation + is, "Do tell!"</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page168" + id="page168"></a>[pg 168]</span> + + <h2>JOURNAL OF A ROLLING STONE.</h2> + + <h3>NINTH ENTRY.</h3> + + <p>Curious thing, now that I am installed as a pupil in + FIBBINS'S Chambers in Waste Paper Buildings, Temple, how few + <i>new</i> briefs I am given to read. Usual routine is for DICK + FIBBINS to hand me a brief on which the dust of ages has + collected, and to leave me to "get up the law about it"; but + when he (FIBBINS) comes back from his day's business in Court, + about 4·30 P.M., he doesn't seem to care a bit to know what the + law is. Seems tired, and prefers to gossip and smoke; so I do + the same, or "follow on the same side," as he expresses it.</p> + + <p>"It strikes me forcibly," I begin, "that the Plaintiff, + SMITHERS, in that running-down case you asked me to read + to-day, hasn't got the ghost of a chance. Why, in + <i>Blatherson</i> v. <i>Snipe</i>, the Court ruled—"</p> + + <p>"Tried the lawn-tennis in the gardens yet?" FIBBINS + interrupts, in the rudest possible manner.</p> + + <p>"No," I reply, "I was speaking of the Court, not lawn-tennis + courts." (One for FIBBINS, I think.) "All the Judges held in + <i>Blatherson</i> v. <i>Snipe</i>, that—"</p> + + <p>"Oh, did they?" he interrupts again: "doosid interesting. + Was I for plaintiff or defendant?"</p> + + <p>"Plaintiff, SMITHERS. A running-down case."</p> + + <p>"Wish it had been a running-up case—a case of + running-up the fees," he laughs. Then, resuming a more + professional style, "You see, I've had such multitudes of cases + since then, that I've forgotten the precise details. But you + write out your own Opinion—not to-day; tomorrow will do. + Then I'll see what it's like. Now let's go a trot down the + Strand."</p> + + <p>Another circumstance that strikes me as remarkable, is the + frequency with which I hear the Impressive Clerk (in the little + room next to mine) requesting persons who have called to + "settle up that other little matter." Then the strange voice + laughs, and says—"Oh, your Governor can wait." "No, he + can't,"—it's the Clerk who says this—"it's been + going on for three years, now." "Well," chimes in the unknown, + "let it go a bit longer. When'll your Governor have settled + those pleadings?" "When your people settle about the five + guineas, and not before," replies the Impressive Clerk in his + best Parliamentary debating style. Then follows a long wrangle, + not on law, but on finance, which never—as far as I can + judge—ends in the Clerk getting his way, and his + money.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/168.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/168.png" + alt="Looks like a Prime Minister in reduced circumstances." /> + </a> "Looks like a Prime Minister in reduced + circumstances." + </div> + + <p>Astonishing event happens. A real live new brief comes in! + Impressive Clerk—who looks like a Prime Minister in + reduced circumstances—brings it to FIBBINS when I am in + the room. More impressive than ever. "From ROGERS, in Chancery + Lane—an excellent firm, Sir," he says. Poor FIBBINS + tries, ineffectually, to conceal his delight, and his eye turns + instinctively to the place where the fee is marked.</p> + + <p>"Six guas" (legal slang for guineas) "for an Opinion, not + bad," he comments, rubbing his hands. FIBBINS dusts a corner of + his desk, and lays it down there.</p> + + <p><i>I</i> am given this precious brief, and am asked to write + a "draft Opinion" about it! "Just to try your hand," says + FIBBINS, who does not wish me to be conceited. "Then I'll write + my own afterwards," he adds.</p> + + <p>I make a very elaborate commentary, quoting from innumerable + parallel cases in English, American, and Roman law, and, after + giving it to DICK FIBBINS to read, I don't see it again.</p> + + <p>But, a few afternoons later, when Impressive Clerk happens + to be out, a knock comes. Nobody in. At last, go myself + (<i>Query</i>—infra dig.?) and open door.</p> + + <p>"Here!" says a juvenile, who apparently mistakes me for the + Clerk, and rudely chucks some papers to me, which hit me in the + chest, "give these to your Governor. What a time you take + answering a knock! Having a nap, hay? Take care old FIBBINS + don't catch you at it, that's all!" Juvenile disappears + downstairs, whistling, before I can think of a suitable + rejoinder.</p> + + <p>Open the papers. The same brief returned with request to + "draw up a Statement of Claim,"—and my "Opinion" inside! + It looks as if DICK sent these clients of his <i>my</i> + valuable advice, pretending that it was his own!</p> + + <p>My learned "leader," when he comes in, treats affair very + coolly.</p> + + <p>"Oh, did I send <i>your</i> 'Opinion' to them as well as + mine? What an ass I am! I wonder what they thought of it?"</p> + + <p>I also wonder. In looking over the returned brief just now, + however, I certainly did not come across the "Opinion," + manufactured by FIBBINS himself, of which that learned Counsel + spoke. And I have no second chance of examining it, as he is + careful to take "all the documents in the case" (a phrase of + the Impressive Clerk's) home with him, for what he calls + re-perusal.</p> + + <p>The conviction that it <i>was</i> my Opinion, and mine + alone, which FIBBINS dispatched, probably out of sheer + laziness, to ROGERS & CO., Solicitors, Chancery Lane, is + one that I still retain. But it is FIBBINS who retains the + fee!</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>AT THE CLOSE OF THE SUMMER.</h3> + + <p class="center">(<i>By one who idled. To his Lady-help.</i>)</p> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I am back at my work, which is far from exciting</p> + + <p class="i2">After nothing to do for a month at a + time,</p> + + <p>So I am not astonished to find myself writing</p> + + <p class="i2">To you, dear MELENDA, and writing in + rhyme.</p> + + <p>In my rooms very often the scent of the heather</p> + + <p class="i2">Brings back with it sweet recollections, + and so</p> + + <p>I think of the days when we idled together,</p> + + <p class="i2">Far away in the country a fortnight + ago.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Yes, the two afternoons when, although we were + sorry</p> + + <p class="i2">That it rained, we went out as to do we + had vowed,</p> + + <p>And the wonderful echo we found in a quarry</p> + + <p class="i2">That took what we whispered and said it + aloud.</p> + + <p>Whilst we wandered through fern-laden hedges and + talked, it</p> + + <p class="i2">So happened a dragon-fly flew by your + side.</p> + + <p>You remember, I'm sure, how you laughed as I stalked + it,</p> + + <p class="i2">And how it seemed hurt, as it finally + died.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then I think of our pic-nic. The sunshine came + glinting,</p> + + <p class="i2">And we thought that the summer had + come—come to stay.</p> + + <p>We did not walk too fast, you were constantly + hinting</p> + + <p class="i2">You were really afraid we were losing our + way.</p> + + <p>I seemed to be catching two glimpses of heaven,</p> + + <p class="i2">As I gazed at the sky and kept looking at + you;</p> + + <p>For the party that started by being just seven</p> + + <p class="i2">Had a curious habit of shrinking to + two.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Why, that's quite sentimental. It isn't the + fashion</p> + + <p class="i2">To write of such things in so high flown + a style.</p> + + <p>Yet maybe I'm entitled to so much of passion</p> + + <p class="i2">As to say that you won me outright with + your smile.</p> + + <p>Though a merciless fate may not let it befall + so,</p> + + <p class="i2">For we know not at all what there may be + in store,</p> + + <p>Yet next year, if you're down there—and I am + there also,</p> + + <p class="i2">Shall we do what we did in the summer + before?</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>"TO ERR IS HUMAN."—"Even I am not always infallible," + observed <i>Mr. P.</i>, on noticing that, in the dialogue under + a picture, last week, the spelling of "cover-coat" for + "covert-coat" had escaped his eagle eye. Just as he was + wondering to himself how such things could be, his other and + eagler eye caught this line in the correspondence, <i>per</i> + "Dalziel," from Chicago, in the <i>Times</i> for Sept. + 23:—"Great Britain has chosen a sight for her buildings + at the World's Fair." If "taken" had been substituted for + "chosen," the mistake might have borne a satirical meaning. No + doubt Great Britain has not made any error as to the site she + has selected, from any point of view.</p> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p class="center">MEM. IN COLOURS.</p> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Man's life is in two colours, simply told:</p> + + <p>Green while you're young, and grey when you are + old.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p>DOMESTIC COOKERY.—(<i>For a future New Edition of + "Mrs. Glasse-with-care"</i>)—It will contain suggestions + for new dishes, to be arranged according to grammatical + divisions of gender and number, as "case" already exists. A + specimen of the first will be <i>Une Femme-lette</i>, a female + companion dish to <i>Un 'Ommelet</i>. Another example proposed + is <i>La Petite Marmite</i> and <i>Le Petit Pa'mite</i>, two + dishes most suitable for a very small family party; say of + dwarf Troglodytes. "Number" of dishes must always be "a party + question;" though at the same time politics will be rigidly + excluded from the new publication.</p> + <hr /> + + <p><b>NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, + whether MS., Printer Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any + description, will in no case be returned, not even when + accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or + Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.</b></p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. +101. October 3rd, 1891, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 13995-h.htm or 13995-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/9/9/13995/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading +Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 101. October 3rd, 1891 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: November 9, 2004 [EBook #13995] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading +Team + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 101. + + + +October 3rd, 1891. + + +THE TRAVELLING COMPANIONS. + +No. IX. + +SCENE--_The Burg Terrace at Nuremberg_. PODBURY _on a bench, grappling +with the Epitome of_ SPENCER. + +_Podbury_ (_reading aloud, with comments_). "For really to conceive the +infinite divisibility of matter is mentally to follow out the divisions +to infinity, and to do this would require infinite time." You're right +_there_, old cock, and, as I haven't got it to spare, I won't trouble +you!--um--um ... "opposite absurdities"--"subjective modifications" ... +"ultimate scientific ideas, then, are all representative of ideas that +cannot be comprehended." I could have told _him_ that. What bally rot this +Philosophy is--but I suppose I must peg away at it. Didn't she say she was +sorry I didn't go in more for cultivating my mind? (_He looks up._) Jove, +here she comes! and yes, there's that beggar CULCHARD with her! I thought +he'd--how the dickens did he manage to--? I see what _he's_ after--thinks +he'll cut me out--twice over--but he shan't this time, if I can help it! + +_Culchard_ (_to_ Miss HYPATIA PRENDERGAST). No, the Modern Spirit is too +earnestly intent upon solving the problems of existence to tolerate humour +in its literature. Humour has served a certain purpose in its day, but that +day is done, and I for one cannot pretend to regret its decay. + +_Miss H. P._ Nor I. In fact, the only humour I ever _really_ appreciated +is that of the ancient classics. There has been no true fun since +ARISTOPHANES died. At least, _I_ think not. + +_Podb._ (_catching the last sentence_). Oh, I say, come, Miss PRENDERGAST. +Have you ever read "The Jumping Frog"? + +_Miss P._ I was under the impression that _all_ frogs jumped. But I never +read--I--ah--_study_. + +_Podb._ (_declining to be crushed_). Well, I call MARK TWAIN funny anyhow. +But _I'm_ going in for study now. I am--honour bright! I'm swotting up +SPENCER--look! + +[_He exhibits the volume proudly._ + +_Miss P._ And are you not enchanted by the logical lucidity of that great +thinker? + +_Podb._ Um--I should be more enchanted if I ever had the faintest notion +what the great thinker was driving at. Look here--here's a simple little +sentence for you! _(Reads.)_ "Let us therefore bear in mind the +following:--That of the whole incident force affecting an aggregate, the +effective force is that which remains after deducting the non-effective, +that the temporarily effective and the permanently effective vary +inversely, and that the molar and molecular changes wrought by the +permanently effective force also vary inversely." (_With pathos._) And +that's only in an _Epitome_, mind you! + +_Miss P._ Really, Mr. PODBURY, I see nothing particularly incomprehensible +in that. + +_Culch._ (_with his superior smile_). My dear PODBURY, you can hardly +expect to master the Spencerian phraseology and habit of thought without +at least _some_ preliminary mental discipline! + +_Podb._ (_nettled_). Oh--but _you_ find him plain-sailing enough, I +suppose? + +_Culch._ I have certainly not encountered any insuperable difficulties in +his works as _yet_. + +_Podb._ Well, I'll just trouble you to explain _this_--wait a bit. +(_Opens volume again._) Ah, here we are--"And these illusive and primordial +cognitions, or pseud-ideas, are homogeneous entities which may be +differentiated objectively or subjectively, according as they are presented +as Noumenon or Phenomenon. Or, in other words, they are only cognoscible as +a colligation of incongruous coalescences." Now then--are you going to tell +me you can make head or tail of all that? + +_Culch._ (_perceiving that_ Miss P. _is awaiting his reply in manifest +suspense_). It's simple enough, my dear fellow, only I can't expect _you_ +to grasp it. It is merely a profound truth stated with masterly precision. + +_Podb._ Oh, is _that_ all, my dear fellow? (_He flings up his heels in an +ecstasy._) I _knew_ I'd have you! Why, I made that up myself as I went +along, and if _you_ understand it, it's a jolly sight more than _I_ do! +[_He roars with laughter._ + +_Miss P._ (_behind her handkerchief_). Mr. CULCHARD has evidently gone +through the--the "preliminary mental discipline." + +_Culch._ (_scarlet and sulky_). Of course, if Mr. PODBURY descends to +childishness of that sort, I can't pretend to-- + +[Illustration: Podbury grappling with the Epitome of Spencer.] + +_Podb._ (_wiping his eyes_). But you _did_ pretend, old chap. You said it +was "profound truth" and "masterly precision"! I've got more profound truth +where _that_ came from. I say, I shall set up as an intellectual Johnny +after this, and _get_ you to write an Epitome of me. I think I pulled your +leg _that_ time, eh? + +_Culch._ (_biting his lip_). When you have extracted sufficient +entertainment from that very small joke, you will perhaps allow Miss +PRENDERGAST to sit down and begin her sketch. You may not be aware that +you've taken her place. + +[_He withdraws majestically to the parapet, while_ PODBURY _makes way for_ +Miss P. _with apologies_. + +_Podb._ (_as he leans over seat while she sketches_). I wish your brother +BOB had been here--he would have enjoyed that! + +_Miss P._ It was really too bad of you, though. Poor Mr. CULCHARD! + +_Podb._ He shouldn't try to make me out a bigger duffer than I am, then. +But I say, you don't _really_ think it was too bad? Ah, you're +_laughing_--you don't! + +_Miss P._ Never mind what I really think. But you have got us both into sad +disgrace. Mr. CULCHARD is dreadfully annoyed with us--look at his +_shoulders_! + +_Culch._ (_leaning over parapet with his back to them_). That _ass_ +PODBURY! To think of his taking me in with an idiotic trick like that! And +before Her too! And when I had made it all right about the other evening, +and was producing an excellent impression on the way up here. I wish I +could hear what they were whispering about--more silly jokes at my expense, +no doubt. Bah! as if it affected _me_! + +_Podb._ (_to_ Miss P.). I say, how awfully well you draw! + +_Miss P._ There you betray your ignorance in Art matters. Sketching with me +is a pastime, not a serious pursuit, (_They go on conversing in a lower +tone._) No, _please_, Mr. PODBURY. I'm quite sure he would never-- + +_Podb._ (_rises; comes up to_ CULCHARD, _and touches his shoulder_). I say, +old chappie-- + +_Culch._ (_jerking away with temper_). Now, look here, PODBURY. I'm not in +the mood for any more of your foolery-- + +_Podb._ (_humbly_). All right, old boy. I wouldn't bother you, only Miss +PRENDERGAST wants a figure for her foreground, and I said I'd ask you if +you'd keep just as you are for a few minutes. Do you mind? + +_Culch._ (_to himself_). Afraid she's gone too far--thinks she'll smooth me +down! Upon my word, it would serve her right to--but no, I won't be petty. +(_Aloud._) Pray tell Miss PRENDERGAST that I have no immediate intention of +altering my position. + +_Podb._ Thanks awfully, old chap. I knew you'd oblige. + +_Culch._ (_incisively_). I am obliging Miss PRENDERGAST, and her only. +(_Raising his voice, without turning his head._) Would you prefer me to +_face_ you, Miss PRENDERGAST? + +_Miss P._ (_in tremulous tones_). N--no, thank you. It--it's so much more +n--natural, don't you know, for you to be l--looking at the view. + +_Culch._ As you please. (_To himself._) Can't meet my eye. Good! I shall go +on treating her distantly for a little. I wonder if I look indifferent +enough from behind? Shall I cross one foot? Better not--she may have begun +sketching me. If she imagines I'm susceptible to feminine flattery of this +palpable kind, she'll--how her voice shook, though, when she spoke. Poor +girl, she's afraid she offended me by laughing--and I _did_ think she had +more sense than to--but I mustn't be too hard on her. I'm afraid she's +already beginning to think too much of--and with my peculiar position with +Miss TROTTER--(MAUD, that is)--not that there's anything definite at +present, still--(_Aloud._) Ahem, Miss PRENDERGAST--am I standing as you +wish? (_To himself._) She doesn't answer--too absorbed, and I can't hear +that idiot--found he hasn't scored so much after all, and gone off in a +huff, I expect. So much the better! What a time she is over this, and how +quiet she keeps! I wish I knew whether it was coquetry or--shall I turn +round and see? No, I must be perfectly indifferent. And she _did_ laugh at +me. I distinctly saw her. Still, if she's sorry, this would be an excellent +opportunity for--(_Aloud._) Miss PRENDERGAST! (_No reply--louder._) May I +take it that you regret having been betrayed into momentary approbation of +a miserable piece of flippancy? If so, let me assure you--(_Turns round--to +discover that he is addressing two little flaxen-haired girls in speckled +pinafores, who are regarding him open-mouthed._ Miss PRENDERGAST _and_ +PODBURY _have disappeared_.) PODBURY _again!_ He must have planned +this--with _her_! It is too much. I have done--yes--done with the pair of +them! [_Strides off in bitter indignation._ + + * * * * * + +SCHOOL-BOY'S FIRST EXPERIENCE OF SMOKING.--One sickarette,--and he never +could do another. _O si sic omnes_! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE!"] + + * * * * * + +"HOTEL ME, GENTLE STRANGER!" + +[Mrs. WHEELER and Mrs. CUSTER, two literary ladies of New York, are +starting a hotel for women only.] + + Says Mrs. CUSTER to Mrs. WHEELER: + "I propose we put out a 'promoting' feeler!" + Says Mrs. WHEELER to Mrs. CUSTER, + "Monopolist Males we shall greatly fluster;" + 'Hotel it not in Gath!' at present + Till we have made things nice and pleasant. + First rule--'No Rules!' O, of course male noddies + Will snigger at once, the superior bodies! + But OSCAR WILDE must 'pull up his socks,' + Ere he'll equal women at paradox. + What I mean is this, in our 'Women's Hotel,' + We'll have no such thing as the 'Curfew Bell,' + And no fixed hour for the cry, 'Out lights!' + We will give free way to true 'Woman's Rights,' + Which are to thump, strum, tap, twirl, trill, + From morn till night at her own sweet will. + That's why we cherish, despite male spleen, + Typewriter, Piano, and Sewing-Machine! + The 'woodpecker tapping' is, indeed, not in it + With Emancipate Woman--no, not for a minute! + Our Hotel will be, when we've won the battle, + 'The Paradise of unlimited Rattle,' + 'The Realm of the Spindle,' 'the Home of the Duster!'" + Says Mrs. WHEELER to Mrs. CUSTER. + "Nought tabooed save Man! So comes Peace the Healer!" + Says Mrs. CUSTER to Mrs. WHEELER. + _Punch hopes_ their Hotel may flourish--only, + Spots "Reserved for Ladies" are often--lonely! + + * * * * * + +THE GERMAN EMPEROR GOING NAP.--It now appears that the words descriptive of +NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE used by the German Emperor, and to which the French +took so strong an exception, were not "_Le parvenu Corse_," but "_Le +conquerant Corse_," which, of course, makes all the difference. At this +banquet it would have been better had each course been omitted from the +_menu_. + + * * * * * + +A Vain Vaunt. + + _La belle France_ boasts of being Art's true henchman! + That cosmopolitan claim she should be mute on. + "Art for Art's sake!" shouts the thrasonic Frenchman, + "Save when that Art is Teuton," + Though Art's not marred for him by subtle sin + A German twang poisons e'en _Lohengrin_. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: INDISCRIMINATE CHARITY. + +_Benevolent Old Lady._ "NO, MR. SMITH; I SHALL NOT CONTINUE MY SUBSCRIPTION +TO YOUR CRICKET-GROUND ANY LONGER--FOR I FIND YOU ALLOW IT TO BE USED IN +THE WINTER FOR PIGEON-SHOOTING!" + +_Secretary to the Local Cricket Club._ "BUT, MADAM, YOU CAN'T BE AWARE THAT +WE SHOOT AT NOTHING BUT _CLAY PIGEONS!_" + +_B. O. L._ "I DON'T CARE _WHAT_ THE BREED MAY BE--IT'S EQUALLY CRUEL!"] + + * * * * * + +THE ARMADA FROM THE SPANISH. + +(_Commenced by Mr. J.A. Froude and concluded by the Duke of Medina +Sidonia._) + +It may be remembered that the English writer in _Longman's Magazine_, had +got to the point when after trying to get out of the expedition by pleading +poverty, incompetency, and anything else I could think of, I was forced to +go on my way to England with apparent satisfaction. We had putrid pork and +mouldy biscuit, but still I informed the King that we were "content and +cheerful." Had I given him any other intelligence, the chances are that he +would have had my head--not a good one, but sufficient to meet my modest +requirements. + +Well, we sailed towards England, and as Mr. J.A. FROUDE has already +explained (quoting from my own letter to King PHILIP), "knowing nothing of +navigation," I soon made a bad shot. Instead of going to Tilbury, I drifted +towards Cronstadt, even then a fortress of some consideration. I could tell +you a great deal more, were it not that I succumbed to sea-sickness and +gave up my command. The expedition was now, of course, commanded by the +steward, but the duties of his unpleasant office left him but little time +for directing an invasion. Well, we got within reach of England when the +wind began to blow, and before I could hitch myself up with a +marling-spike, every man Jack of us was ready for Davy Jones's locker! + +But why should I dwell upon the events of the next few days? We were +out-manoeuvred and beaten. I myself took refuge in a wood of mahogany +trees, and it was my delight and my privilege to supply the requirements of +the British colony in all that they desired. The result of this was that I +and a few personal friends took refuge in a forest in which mahogany trees +flourished. It was in this leafy prison that I supplied the genuine old +Armada mahogany "as advertised." I would be afraid to say how many places I +supplied with wood from the Armada. I may hint that I know something of the +tables at Westminster and the benches of Gray's Inn. But there, that is +many years ago, and all I can say now is, "Heave away, boys," and "Three +cheers for the Don, the Keys, and the Donkey." I was the Don, the keys were +supplied to those who paid for them, and the donkeys could defend +themselves. The Armada was not a success, and after this frank avowal, it +seems to me that Mr. FROUDE need render no further explanation. Surely the +story of the Spanish Invasion is copyright. And if it is, Mr. FROUDE has no +right to tamper with my work, the more especially as it is immediately +appropriated by that model of modern journalism the _Review of Reviews_. + + * * * * * + +PHILOSOPHICAL REFLECTION.--We have five senses. That's quite enough. If we +had a sixth sense, what a _new sense_ it would be! + + * * * * * + +"IN CELLAR DEEP." + + (_Latest Up-to-Date Version of a celebrated Bacchanalian ditty, as + it might be revised by Dr. Mortimer Granville and Mr. James + Payn._) + + ["No one drinks alcoholic liquor (unless it be beer) to quench + thirst."--JAMES PAYN.] + + In Cellar deep I sit and steep + My soul in GRANVILLE'S logic. + Companions mine, sound ale, good wine-- + _That_ foils Teetotal dodge--hic! + With solemn pate our sages prate, + The Pump-slaves neatly pinking. + He's proved an ass, whose days _don't_ pass + In drinking, drinking, drinking! + + In water pure there's danger sure, + All fizzle-pop's deceiving; + And ginger-beer must make you queer + (If GRANVILLE you're believing). + Safe, on the whole, is Alcohol; + It saves man's strength from sinking. + I injure none, and have good f--fun. + Whilst drinking, drinking, drinking! + + Hic! Hic! Hooray!! New reasons gay + For drink from doctors borrow! + The last (_not_ first) is simple thirst, + Thatsh true--to LAWSON'S sorrow! + Good Templarsh fain would "physic PAYN," + And GRANVILLE squelch like winking; + But all the same, true Wisdom's--hic--game + Is drinking, drinking, drinking! + +[_Left playing it._ + + * * * * * + +MR. PUNCH'S NAVAL NOVEL. + + [_Mr. Punch_ has observed with much gratification the success of + various _brochures_ professing to give, under the disguise of + retrospect, a prophetic but accurate account of the naval battle + of the immediate future. _Mr. Punch_ has read them carefully over + and over again. For some time he has been living, so to speak, in + the midst of magnificent iron-clad fleets. In vain have torpedoes + been launched on their occasionally death-dealing mission against + him, in vain have immense shells exploded in his immediate + neighbourhood. Nothing, not even the ramming of one whole squadron + by another, has succeeded in daunting him. He has remained + immovable in the midst of an appalling explosion which reduced a + ship's company to a heap of toe-nails. And now, his mind fired by + the crash of conflict and the intoxication of almost universal + slaughter, he proposes to show the world how a naval novel that + means to be accurate as well as vivid, to be bought by the public + in thousands as well as to teach useful lessons to politicians and + sailors, ought really to be written. _Mr. Punch_ may as well state + that he has _not_ submitted this story to any naval experts. His + facts speak for themselves, and require no merely professional + approval to enhance their value.] + +WHO'D BE A SAILOR? + +(_A Story of Blood and Battle._) + +CHAPTER I. + +[Illustration: The Explosion.] + +Listen, my Grandchildren! for you are mine, not indeed by the ridiculous +accident of birth (since to speak the truth I am an unmarried old +sea-dog), but by the far higher and more honourable title of having been +selected by me to hear this yarn. You know well enough that such a tale +_must_ be told to grandchildren, and since you undoubtedly possessed +grandparents, and have been hired at a shilling an hour to listen to me, I +have every right to address you as I did. Therefore I say, my +grandchildren, attend to what I am about to relate. You who live under the +beneficent sway of the mighty Australo-Canado-Africo-Celto-Americo-Anglian +Federation of Commonwealths, can have no notion of the degraded conditions +under which I, your grandfather, and the rest of my miserable +fellow-countrymen lived fifty years ago in the year 1892. Naturally you +have read no books of history referring to any date anterior to 1902. The +wretched records of ignorance, slavery and decrepitude have been justly +expunged from your curriculum. Let me tell you then that a little country +calling itself the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland at that time +arrogated to itself the leadership of the mighty countries which you now +call your home. You smile and refer me to a large-sized map on which, as +you justly observe, this country occupies a space of not more than two +square inches. Your surprise is intelligible, but the melancholy fact +remains. All this has now been happily changed, and changed too in +consequence of a war in which England (for so the country was often +inaccurately called, except upon Scotch political platforms, where people +naturally objected to the name) in which, as I say, England bore the chief +part and obtained the decisive victory. The story of this war I am now +about to relate to you. + +CHAPTER II. + +War had been declared. We had known for a long time that it was coming. For +months past the bellicose bench of Bishops had been preaching war in all +the Cathedrals of the land. Field Marshal the Duke of WOLSELEY, who was +then a simple lord, had written articles in all the prominent American +reviews, and had proved to demonstration that with 50,000 boys and the new +patent revolving ammunition belt, Britain (for that too was the name of my +late country) was ready to defy and conquer the world. Rear-Admiral and +Lieutenant-General Sir WILLIAM T. STEAD, G.C.B., C.S.I., K.G., V.C.--the +great journalist in the shade of whose colossal mounted statue we are now +sitting--had suddenly become a convert to the doctrine that war is the +great purifier, and had offered in a spirit of extraordinary +self-abnegation to command both the Army and the Fleet in action. Volunteer +corps armed with scythes, paper-knives, walking-sticks and umbrellas had +sprung up all over the country, and had provided their own uniforms and +equipment. Lord RANDOLPH CHURCHILL, father of the present Earl of South +Africa, had been recalled to office by an alarmed country, and had united +in his own person the offices of Secretary of State for War, First Lord of +the Admiralty, Premier, Chancellor of the Exchequer and Lord Privy Seal. As +a first step towards restoring confidence, he had, with his own hands, +beheaded the former Prime Minister, the Marquis of SALISBURY, and had +published a cheap and popular edition of his epoch-making Letters from +Mashonaland. His Lordship's official residence had been established at the +Amphitryon Club where they still preserve on constant relays of ice the +_Becassine bardee aux truffes_ which Lord RANDOLPH was about to eat when he +snubbed the united ambassadors of Germany, France, Austria, Russia, Italy +and the Republic of Andorra. The immediate consequence was a declaration of +war against us. + +CHAPTER III. + +I was at that time in command of H.M.S. _Bandersnatch_, a vessel of nine +hundred thousand horse-power, and a mean average displacement of four +hundred thousand tons. Ah, the dear old _Bandersnatch!_ Never can I forget +the thrill of exquisite emotion which pervaded my inmost being as I stepped +on board in mid-ocean. Everything was in apple-pie order. Bulkheads, +girders, and beams shone like glass in the noonday sun. The agile +torpedo-catchers had been practising their sports, and I could not resist a +feeling of intense pride when I learnt that only fifty of these heroic +fellows had that morning perished owing to the accidental explosion of one +of their charming playthings at the very crisis of the game. The racers of +the after-guns had been out for their morning's exercise. Indeed the +saddles had only just been removed, and the noble animals were now enjoying +a good square meal of corn in their bombproof stable. Keep your animals in +good fettle, and they'll never shirk their work: that was always my motto, +and right well has it answered. The roaring furnaces, the cylindrical +boilers, the prisoned steam, the twin screws, the steel shot that crashes +like thunder, the fearful impact of the ram, the blanching terror of the +supreme moment, the shattered limbs and scattered heads,--all these were +ready, waiting but for the pressure of my finger on the middle button of +the boatswain's mess-waistcoat to speed forth upon their deadly work +between the illustrated covers of a shilling pamphlet. + +CHAPTER IV. + +In another moment the enemy's fleet had hove in sight. Our movements in the +ten minutes preceding the fatal conflict will be best understood by +consulting the annexed diagram:-- + +[Illustration] + +We advanced in this imposing order for five minutes. Then came a puff of +smoke, and, in less time than it takes to tell it, two thousand men had +been literally blown into thin air, their sole remnant being the left shoe +of my trusty second in command, Captain GLIMDOWSE. I trained the two +turret-guns until I had got them into perfect condition, and gave the word. +The crash that followed was terrific. One of the massive missiles went +home, and stayed there, no amount of inducement availing to bring it out +again to face the battle. The other, however, behaved as a British missile +should, and exploded in the heart of the hostile fleet. The result was +terrific. French, German and Russian Admirals by the thousand were +destroyed, their scattered fragments literally darkening the face of the +sun, and a mixed shower of iron, steel, stanchions, bollards, monster guns, +Admirals, sailors, stewards, cocked-hats, and Post Captains fell for ten +minutes without intermission from the clouds into which they had been +driven by the awful force of the explosion. I turned to my Lieutenant, who +was standing beside me, to give a necessary order. As I was about to +address him, the machine-guns in the enemy's tops belched forth a myriad +projectiles, and the unfortunate Lieutenant was swept into eternity. All +that was left of him was his right hand, which, curiously enough, remained +for a minute suspended in the air in its proper relative position to what +had been the Lieutenant's body. I mastered my emotion with an effort, as I +reverently grasped and shook the melancholy relic. Then, shedding a silent +tear, I dropped it over the side, and with an aching heart, watched it +disappear beneath the wave on which many of its former owner's happiest +hours had been spent. + +CHAPTER V. + +This catastrophe ended the battle. The allied fleets had been swept off the +face of the ocean. I packed what remained of H.M.S. _Bandersnatch_ in my +tobacco-pouch, attached myself to a hen-coop, and thus floated triumphantly +into Portsmouth Harbour. + + * * * * * + +CHARLEMAGNE AND I. + +_Aix-la-Chapelle, Monday._--I have always had a strange longing to know +CHARLEMAGNE. To shake him by the hand, to have opportunity of inquiring +after his health and that of his family, to hear his whispered reply--that +indeed were bliss. But CHARLEMAGNE is dead, and desire must be curbed. The +only thing open to an admirer is to visit the place of his last repose, and +brood in spots his shade may yet haunt. CHARLEMAGNE was buried at +Aix-la-Chapelle (German Aachen), but since my arrival in the town, I find +great difficulty in discovering his tomb. The great soldier Emperor +resembled an unfortunate and unskilful pickpocket in one respect. He was +always being taken up. He died in the year 814, and was left undisturbed +till the year 1000, when the Emperor OTTO THE THIRD opened his tomb, and, +finding his great predecessor sitting on a marble chair, helped him down. +The marble chair is on view in the Cathedral to this day (verger, I mark) +to witness to the truth of this narrative. One hundred and sixty-five years +later, FREDERICK BARBAROSSA opened the second tomb where OTHO had placed +C., and transferred to a marble sarcophagus what, at this date, was left of +him. In the following century C. was canonised. Whereupon nothing would +satisfy FREDERICK THE SECOND but to go for the bones again. They were now +growing scarce, and only a few fragments fill the reliquary in which at +length all that is left of my revered friend (if after this lapse of time I +may call him so) reposes. + +I have been fortunate in securing a relic, not exactly of CAROLO, but of +the time at or about which he lived. It is a piece of tapestry, on which +fingers long since dust have worked a sketch of the Emperor going to his +bath. Considering its age, the tapestry is in remarkably fresh condition. +The old Hebrew trader, whom for a consideration I induced to part with it, +said he would not charge any more on that account; which I thought very +considerate. He also said he might be able to get me some more pieces. But +this, I think, will do to go on with. + +But if there be nothing left of CAROLO MAGNO, there still is the city he +loved, in which he lived and died. Here is the Kaiserquelle, bubbling out +of Buechel in which, centuries ago, he laved his lordly limbs. Going down +into my bath this morning I observed in the dim light the imprint of a +footstep on the marble stair. + +"That might have been CHARLEMAGNE'S," I said to YAHKOB, my bath attendant. + +"_Ja wohl_," said YAHKOB, nodding in his friendly way, and, going out, he +presently returned with a hot towel. + +That did not seem to follow naturally upon my observation, which was, +indeed, born of idle fancy. (I know very well C.'s death eventuated long +prior to the building of the stately colonnade that fronts the present +baths, and that therefore the footprint is illusory.) I am growing used to +a certain irrelevancy in YAHKOB's conversation. My German is of the date of +CHARLEMAGNE, and is no more understood here than is the Greek of SOCRATES +in the streets of Athens. YAHKOB was especially told off for my service +because he thoroughly understood and talked English. He says, "Ye-es" and +"Ver well." But when I offer a chance remark he, three times out of five, +nods intelligently, bolts off and brings me something back--a comb and +brush, a newspaper, but oftenest, a hot towel. Once, when I asked him +whether there were two posts a day to London, he lugged in an arm-chair. + +I get on better with WILLIAM. WILLIAM is a rubber--not of whist, _bien +entendu_, but of men. In build WILLIAM is pear-shaped, the upper part of +him, where you would expect to find the stalk, broadening out into a +perpetual smile. He has lived in the Baths twenty-three years, and yet his +gaiety is not eclipsed. If he has a foible it is his belief that he +thoroughly understands London and its ways. + +"A ver big place," he remarked this morning, "where dey kills de ladees." + +This reference not being immediately clear, WILLIAM assisted dull +comprehension by drawing his finger across his throat, and uttering a +jovial "click!" But it was only when, his eyes brimming over with fun, he +said, "YAK de Reeper," that I followed the drift of his remark. + +It is gratifying to the citizen of London travelling abroad, to learn that +in the mind of the foreigner the great Metropolis is primarily and chiefly +associated with "JACK the Ripper" and his exploits. + +"I rob you not hard," WILLIAM incidentally remarks, pounding at your chest +as if it were a parquet flooring he was polishing; "but I strong so I can +break a shentleman's ribs." + +I make due acknowledgment of the prowess, being particularly careful to +refrain from expressing doubt, or even surprise. WILLIAM, always smiling, +repeats the assertion just as if I had contradicted him. Try to change +subject. + +[Illustration: "I would break hees ribs!"] + +"I wonder if CHARLEMAGNE had a massage man in his suite?" I say, "and who +was his Doctor? Now if he had had Dr. BRANDIS, I believe he would have been +alive at this day. But we cannot have everything. CHARLEMAGNE had the Iron +Crown of Lombardy; we have Dr. BRANDIS." + +"Y e e s," said WILLIAM, still gloating over his own train of thought; +"eef I like I break a shentleman's ribs." + +Sometimes WILLIAM'S smile, contracting, breaks into a whistle, horribly +out of tune. He rather fancies his musical powers, and is proud of his + intimate acquaintance with the fashionable _chansons_ current in London +to-day, or as he puts it, "Vat dey shings at de Carrelton Clob." Then he +warbles a line of the happily long-forgotten "Champagne CHARLIE," with +intervals of "Oh what a surprise!" He sings both to the same tune, and +fortunately knows only two lines of one and a single line of the other. + +Try to bring him back to CAROLO MAGNO. + +"Wouldn't you," I ask "give all you are worth to have lived in the time of +CHARLEMAGNE? Suppose some day you walked into this room and discovered him +sitting on his marble throne as OTHO found him with the Iron Crown on his +head and his right hand grasping the imperial sceptre, what would you do?" + +"I would break hees ribs," said WILLIAM, his face illumined by a sudden +flash of delighted anticipation. + +Alack! we are thinking of two personages sundered by centuries. My mind +dwells on CHARLEMAGNE, whilst WILLIAM is evidently thinking of Champagne +CHARLIE. + + * * * * * + +"ANNALS OF A VERY QUIET FAMILY." + +There were eight of us, each within a year or so of one another. + +Father was a very quiet man, engaged all day in his study. + +Mother was equally quiet. + +Father would never allow a trumpet, drum, or any instrument of torture, +except the piano, to be brought into the house. + +Mother quietly saw his orders carried out. + +In due course we all left home one after the other, and having been so +quiet for so long, each one of us has contrived to make a considerable +noise in the world since, and are all doing well. "Doing" may be used in +the widest possible sense. Among other accomplishments we blow our own +trumpets, as you see. As father and mother object to noise, we have not +encouraged their visits. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: DEA EX MACHINA! + +(_A Reminiscence._)] + + * * * * * + +"AS _HE_'D LIKE IT." + +(_Shakspeare once more freely adapted to the situation._) + + ["We wanted, and we want, to do for the villages, + what the first reformed Parliament did in conferring + municipal government upon the towns. We knew + that the Tory Party did not really mean to give + us village or parish Councils.... 'The Radical + agitators,' says Sir MICHAEL HICKS-BEACH, 'want + to see a complete change in the social condition of + rural society.' What if we do?... Why, it was + for this that many of us, seven or eight years ago, + and many more years ago, fought for getting the + labourer a vote."--_Mr. John Morley at Cambridge._] + +SCENE--_The Forest of Ha_(_w_)_arden._ + +_Touchstone_ (Mr. J-HN M-RL-Y); _Audrey_, (The Agricultural Vote); _Jaques_ +(Mr. P-NCH), behind. Afterwards _William_ (Sir M-CH-L H-CKS-B-CH.) + +_Touch._ Come apace, good AUDREY: I will fetch up your votes, AUDREY. And +how, AUDREY?--am I the man yet? Doth my simple programme content you? + +_Audrey._ Your programme! Lord warrant us, what programme? + +_Touch._ I am here with thee and thy Votes as the glittering poet-god +Apollo was among the herds of Admetus. + +_Jaq._ (_aside_). Oh, knowledge oddly applied! Fancy Olympian Oracles in a +thatched cottage! + +_Touch._ When a man's speeches cannot be understood, nor a man's good +platform wit seconded by the froward child popular understanding, it +strikes a man more dead than a small minority on a big Bill. Truly, I would +the gods had made thee political. + +_Aud._ I do not know what political is. Is it honest in deed and word? Is +it a true thing? + +_Touch._ (_with sardonic frankness_). No, truly; for the truest politics +show the most feigning; and Tories are given to politics; and what they +swear, in politics, may be said, as Tories, they do feign. + +_Aud._ Do you wish, then, that the gods had made _me_ political? + +_Touch._ I do, truly; for they swear to me thou art true Tory, +parson-and-squire-ridden Tory. Now, if thou wert political, I might have +some hope thou didst feign--to _them_! + +_Aud._ Would you not have me Tory? + +_Touch._ No, truly, unless thou wert fortune-favoured; for Toryism coupled +to poverty is to have folly a sauce to misery. + +_Jaq._ (_aside_). A shrewd fool! + +_Aud._ Well, I am not rich; and therefore I pray the gods to make me +Liberal. + +_Touch._ Truly, and to cast away Liberalism upon a willingly +"unemancipated" Voter, were to deck a porker with pearls. + +_Aud._ I may not be "emancipated," but I thank the gods I am +"enfranchised." + +_Touch._ Well, praised be the Liberals for thine enfranchisement! +Emancipation--from "squarsonry"--may come hereafter. But, be it as it may, +I will marry thee. + +_Jaq._ (_aside_). I would fain see this wedding. Methinks there will be +sport forward ere it be fully achieved. + +_Aud._ Well, the gods give us joy! + +_Touch._ Amen.... But, AUDREY, there is a youth here in the forest lays +claim to you. + +_Aud._ Ay, I know who 'tis: he hath no interest in me in the world. Here +comes the man you mean. + +_Touch._ It is meat and drink to me to see a--Tory: by my troth, we that +have good wits have much to answer for; we shall be flouting; we cannot +hold. + +_Enter_ WILLIAM. + +_Will._ Good even, AUDREY. + +_Aud._ Give ye good even, WILLIAM. + +_Will._ And good even to you, Sir! + +_Touch._ Good even, gentle friend.... Art thou wise? + +_Will._ Ay, Sir, I have a pretty wit. + +_Touch._ You do desire this maid? + +_Will._ I do, Sir. + +_Touch._ Give me your hand. Art thou learned? + +_Will._ No, Sir. + +_Touch._ Then learn this of me; to have is to have; for it is a great +figure in Gladstonian rhetoric, that votes being deducted from one Party +and added to another, by putting the one Out do put the other In; for all +your writers do consent that _ipse_ is he: now you are not _ipse_, for I am +he. + +_Will._ Which he, Sir? + +_Touch._ He, Sir, that must marry the woman. Therefore, you Tory, +abandon--which is, in the vulgar, leave--the society, which in the boorish +is, company--of this female,--which in the common is, woman; which together +is, abandon the society of this female, or Tory, thou vanishest; or, to thy +better understanding, skedaddlest; or, to wit, I defeat thee, make thee +away, translate thy majority into minority, thine Office into Opposition; I +will deal in programmes with thee, or in eloquence, or in epigram; I will +bandy with thee in faction; I will o'errun thee with policy; I will "mend +thee or end thee" a hundred and fifty ways; therefore, tremble, and depart! + +SONG (_behind_). + + It was a lover and his lass, + With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, + That o'er the stubble fields did pass + (Together WILL caught 'em). + In the time of autumn, + When M.P.'s spout, and "manoeuvre" about; + M.P.'s (who are "out") love autumn. + + About three acres and a cow, + With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; + The artful country folks know now. + In the time of autumn, &c. + + Since that the franchise was their dower, + With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, + The Country Voters are a power. + In the time of autumn, &c. + + And, therefore, at the present time, + With "an Agricultural Policy"--funny, ho!-- + _Both_ Parties simple HODGE would lime, + In the time of autumn, &c. + +_Will._ (_aside_). Truly, though there is no great matter in the ditty, yet +the note is very untuneable. [_Exit._ + +_Touch._ Trip, AUDREY, trip, AUDREY,--I attend,--I attend! + [_Exeunt._ + +_Jaq._ (_appearing_). There is surely another political deluge forward, and +these motley would-be couples are seeking the official ark! [_Exit._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _William_.... SIR M-CH-L H-CKS-B-CH. _Touchstone_.... J-HN +M-RL-Y. _Audrey_....THE AGRICULTURAL VOTE. + +"AS _HE_'D LIKE IT." + +SCENE--_The Forest of Ha(w)arden._ + +TOUCHSTONE. "I AM HE THAT MUST MARRY THIS WOMAN! THEREFORE, YOU CLOWN, +ABANDON THE SOCIETY OF THIS FEMALE;.... I WILL BANDY WITH THEE IN FACTION; +I WILL O'ERRUN THEE WITH POLICY; THEREFORE. TREMBLE, AND DEPART!"--_As You +Like It_, Act V., Scene 1.] + + * * * * * + +THE TRUE TENNYSON. + +We have all been startled to find from the researches of Mr. WOODALL in +_Notes and Queries_, that "Between the story sung by the Poet Laureate in +his romantic poem _The Lord of Burleigh_, and the actual fact, there seems +to be little in common." HENRY CECIL, Earl and afterwards Marquis of +EXETER, married Miss SARAH HOGGINS under the name of JOHN JONES, having a +wife alive at the time, and she did not die as the poem relates. It is +obvious then that TENNYSON must be re-written, and we offer his Lordship +the following humble suggestions. _The Lord of Burleigh_ should +henceforward run somewhat as follows:-- + + Quoth he, "Gentle SARAH HOGGINS," + Speaking in seductive tones, + "You must wed no HODGE or SCROGGINS, + But espouse your own J. JONES." + Oh! he was an artful party, + And that marriage was a crime. + He'd a wife alive and hearty, + Though she'd left him for a time. + +The above discovery has, of course, led to doubts regarding other +Tennysonian heroines. Was Lady CLARA VERE DE VERE, for example, as black as +the poet has painted her? Perish the thought! Here are a couple of specimen +stanzas for an amended version:-- + + Lady CLARA VERE DE VERE, + I vow that you were not a flirt, + The daughter of a hundred Earls + Would not a single creature hurt. + "Kind hearts are more than coronets," + What abject twaddle, on my word; + And then the joke is in the end,-- + We know they made the bard a Lord. + + The tale of how young LAURENCE died, + In some audacious print began; + The fact is that he took to drink, + He always was that sort of man. + And as for ALFRED, why, of course + You snubbed him; but was that a crime, + That he should go and call you names, + And print his atrabilious rhyme? + +Then, again, was the _Amy_ of _Locksley Hall_ quite as shallow-hearted and +so forth as the angry rhymester declares? It will probably turn out that +she was not. Hence the verses should run in this fashion:-- + + And I said, "My Cousin AMY, speak the truth, my heart to ease. + Shall it be by banns or license?" And she whispered, "Which you please." + Love took up the glass of Time and waved it gaily in the air, + + Married life was sweet at Number Twenty-Six in Camden Square. + + AMY faithless! Bless your heart, Sir, that was not the case at all: + + It was pure imagination that I wrote in Locksley Hall. + +[Illustration: _George_ (_about to enjoy the first new-laid Egg from the +recently set-up Fowl-house_). "WHY--CONF--THEY'VE BOILED THE PORCELAIN +NEST-EGG!"] + +This process will doubtless have to be applied to many of the poems, but we +must leave the congenial task to the Laureate. + + * * * * * + +A SONNET OF VAIN DESIRE. + +AFTER THE HOLIDAYS. + + As when th' industrious windmill vainly yearns + To pause, and scratch its swallow-haunted head, + Yet at the wind's relentless urging turns + Its flying arms in wild appeal outspread; + So am I vex'd by vain desire, that burns + These barren places whence the hair hath fled, + To wander far amid the woodland ferns, + Where dewdrops shine along the gossamer thread; + Where its own sunlight on the reddening leaf + Sleeps, when soft mists have swathed the sunless tree, + + Or where the innumerous billows merrily dance; + Yet must I busily dissemble grief + Whirl'd in the pitiless round of circumstance, + Rigid with trained respectability. + + * * * * * + +New Way out of a Wager. + + DESMOND, Theosophist Colonel, now thinks better + Of his rash vow his gift to "demonstrate," + Receiving a "precipitated letter" + Warning him not to be--precipitate. + Many a Betting Man who'd hedge or tack + Must wish he had Mahatmas at _his_ back. + + * * * * * + +The Beggar's Petition. + +(_New Version._) + + Life must not be lost, Sir, with lightness, + To _labour_ for life gives me pain; + My exchequer's affected with tightness, + But begging's the pink of politeness, + Like Scribes, Sir, "I beg--to _remain!_" * + +* And didn't CHARLES LAMB, in his most delightful essay _On the +Decay of Beggars_, deplore their gradual disappearance? + + * * * * * + +DOCTOR LAURIE. + +_Song by a Scotch Student_. AIR--"_Annie Laurie_." + +["According to Dr. LAURIE, of Edinburgh University, the "teaching of Greek, +so far as it is attempted in our secondary schools, is positively +harmful."--_Daily News._] + + Pedagogue brays are bonnie, + When Greek they'd fain taboo; + And 'tis here that Doctor LAURIE + Gi'es utterance strictly true, + Gi'es utterance strictly true, + Which ne'er forgot should be, + And for bonnie Doctor LAURIE, + A Scottish boy would dee. + + Auld HOMER is a humbug, + ANACREON is an ass; + Sumphs scrape enoo o' baith o' them, + The "Little-go" to pass, + The Little-go to pass-- + It affects them "harmfullee." + Ah! but bonnie Doctor LAURIE, + He kens Greek's a' my ee! + + Like diplomas fause and lying, + Are "passes" such as this. + Why should Scotch lads sit sighing + O'er the _Anabasis_?-- + O'er the _Anabasis_? + XENOPHON's fiddle-de-dee? + Oh, for bonnie Doctor LAURIE, + I'd shout with three times three! + + * * * * * + +UNDER-LYNE'D.--Said Sir W. VERNON HARCOURT, at Ashton-under-Lyne, "I am +very glad to be enabled to come here from the hospitable roof of Mr. RUPERT +MASON." ... And again, "I have come here also from the roof of Mr. MATHER." +Quite a Sir WILLIAM ROOFUS! But what was he doing on the roof? Was there a +tile off in each case? Something wrong with the first house that a Mason +couldn't set right? And with the second, did Sir ROOFUS sing, "Oh dear, +what can the Mather be?" And why the invidious distinction between the two +roofs? The first being hospitable, and the second having no pleasant +epithet to recommend it. + + * * * * * + +PROPOSED NEW TITLE FOR LORD GR-M-TH-RPE.--Baron (H)ALTER EGO. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A LANCASHIRE WATERING-PLACE.] + + * * * * * + +POPULAR SONGS RE-SUNG; + +OR, MISS BOWDLER AT THE MUSIC HALLS. + +INTRODUCTORY. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH, + +In these progressive days earnest reformers, especially those of the London +County Council type, yearn to chasten and aestheticise the Muse of the Music +Hall, who is perhaps the only really popular Muse of the period. My name +gives me a sort of hereditary right to take exceptional interest in such +matters, though indeed my respected, and respectable, ancestor is not in +all things the model of his more catholic and cosmopolitan descendant. The +McDougall regimen would doubtless be a little _too_ drastic. To improve the +Music-hall Song off the face of the earth, is an attempt which could only +suggest itself to puritan fanaticism in its most arbitrary administrative +form. The proletariat will not "willingly let die" the only Muse whose +ministrations really "come home to its business and its bosom." No, Sir, +the People's Pegasus cannot, must not be ruthlessly consigned to the +knackers. But may it not be gently bitted, discreetly bridled, and taught +to trot or amble with park-hack paces in the harness of Respectability? + +It is in this hope and faith that the following drawing-room versions of +some of "the most popular Comic (and Sentimental) Songs of the Day" have +been attempted by + Your respectful admirer, + VIRGINIA BOWDLER. + +To the Respectable Citizen, the Moral Matron, and the Young Person, with a +love of larkiness and lilt, but a distrust of politics, pugilism, and deep +potations, the following eclectic adaptation of this prodigiously popular +ballad may perhaps be not altogether unwelcome. + +No. I.--TWO LOVELY BROWN EYES, + +AIR--"_Two Lovely Black Eyes_". + + Strolling one Sunday near Bethnal Green, + This "aesthete" you might have seen, + Surveying "the People" with scornful spleen + When, oh, what a surprise! + An Art Exhibition I chanced to see, + Therein I entered right speed-i-lee, + When--on a canvas--there shone on me + Two lovely brown eyes! + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Smiling right down on a dingy throng, + Two lovely brown eyes! + + From a canvas of "High Art" sort they shone, + Their owner was cinctured with classic zone, + She was spare of flesh, she was big in bone, + Oh, what a surprise! + A parson, whom everyone owned "a good sort," + Had hung them there for the pleasure and sport + Of the dreary dwellers in slum and court, + Those lovely brown eyes! + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Drawing the gaze of an East-End crowd, + Two lovely brown eyes! + + My own regard, as I loitered there, + Fastened on one proletariat pair, + With finery frowsy, and oily hair; + Oh, what a surprise! + "SALLIE" and "BILL" were the names they flung + Frankly abroad with unreticent tongue, + Lounging and staring where graciously hung + Those lovely brown eyes. + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + SALLIE and BILL your calm beauty could thrill; + Two lovely brown eyes! + + Art (so I argue) for all is best, + Here, in the East, on the Day of Rest, + Lo! my pet theory put to the test! + Oh, what a surprise! + The chap staring there is a Coster true, + Trowsered in corduroy, belchered in blue; + What does _he_ think of your heavenly hue, + Two lovely brown eyes? + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + "SALLIE", he whispered, "_she's_ got, like _you_, + Two lovely brown eyes!" + + The picture was one of BURNE-JONES'S best; + "SALLIE" was snub-nosed and showily drest; + I sought her visage in querulous quest, + When oh, what a surprise! + Plump in the midst of a "puddingy" face, + Coarse-cut in feature, devoid of grace, + Nature capricious had chosen to place + Two lovely brown eyes! + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + There on each side of a salient "snub," + Two lovely brown eyes: + + Brown? Ah, yes! But, alack! alack! + The brown was fringed with a halo of _black_, + Fruit, it was plain of some marital thwack, + Oh, what a surprise! + "_She_," sighed the girl, "has a beautiful chump, + Though she _do_ seem to 'ave got the 'ump. + _Them_ pair o' lamps never felt a thump, + _Them_ lovely brown eyes!" + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Something seemed telling that man he was wrong, + Two lovely brown eyes! + + Say, was it fancy? I saw a flush + O'er the coarse cheeks of that Coster rush, + "Stash it!" he murmured. A Coster blush? + Oh, what a surprise! + SALLIE,--she clung to his muscular arm-- + With a look half lovingness, half alarm, + He stooped and--kissed her! Now, was it _your_ charm, + Two lovely brown eyes? + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Was it your influence, gentle yet strong, + Two lovely brown eyes? + + "BILL," whispered she, "you may bet two _d + She_ never nagged at 'er bloke--like _me_-- + He never wheeled a whelk-barrer, d'yer see? + Oh, what a surprise! + Parties with cultcher and piles o'cash + Ain't no temptation to row or bash, + But--who's to tell but she's jilted '_er_ mash-- + Miss Lovely Brown Heyes?" + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Twinkled like stars 'twixt a tear and a frown, + Two lovely brown eyes. + + The moral you've caught I can hardly doubt; + On Art _versus_ Morals men sneer or shout, + Leave it to OSCAR to fight _that_ out, + If you would be wise. + Better, far better, it is to let + Beautiful things work their way--you bet! + Then the Coster's wife may less frequently wet + _Her_ lovely brown eyes. + + _Chorus._ + + Two lovely brown eyes! + Oh, what a surprise! + Art-loving-Man is _less_ likely to black + Two lovely brown eyes! + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +MEN OF THE PAST. + +(COMPILED BY _THE_ MAN OF THE PRESENT.) + +CROMWELL.--An English Brewer. Uncertain about his aspirates. Distinctly +vulgar. Face disfigured by warts. + +PETER THE GREAT.--Quite a common sort of Russian. Man with coarse tastes. +Came to England to learn ship-building. Fond of low society; in fact, the +type of an enterprising cad. + +WASHINGTON.--Entirely provincial English rebel, who caused considerable +trouble in America. Family fair, but not to be traced beyond three +generations. Used to eat peas with his knife. + +HANNIBAL.--Brutal barbarian. Feeblest ideas of stategy. Went the wrong way +over the Alps. Given to oaths from childhood up. Quite a classical nobody. + +BUONAPARTE.--A Corsican _Parvenu_. + + * * * * * + +The Garrick School. + + School for young actors is the Garrick Playhouse. + Upon the road to fame a quarter-way house + For IRVING _fils_. And likewise note we there + The heir apparent of a parent HARE. + + * * * * * + +"_DIO, age_!" of which the classic American translation is, "Do tell!" + + * * * * * + +JOURNAL OF A ROLLING STONE. + +NINTH ENTRY. + +Curious thing, now that I am installed as a pupil in FIBBINS'S Chambers in +Waste Paper Buildings, Temple, how few _new_ briefs I am given to read. +Usual routine is for DICK FIBBINS to hand me a brief on which the dust of +ages has collected, and to leave me to "get up the law about it"; but when +he (FIBBINS) comes back from his day's business in Court, about 4.30 P.M., +he doesn't seem to care a bit to know what the law is. Seems tired, and +prefers to gossip and smoke; so I do the same, or "follow on the same +side," as he expresses it. + +"It strikes me forcibly," I begin, "that the Plaintiff, SMITHERS, in that +running-down case you asked me to read to-day, hasn't got the ghost of a +chance. Why, in _Blatherson_ v. _Snipe_, the Court ruled--" + +"Tried the lawn-tennis in the gardens yet?" FIBBINS interrupts, in the +rudest possible manner. + +"No," I reply, "I was speaking of the Court, not lawn-tennis courts." (One +for FIBBINS, I think.) "All the Judges held in _Blatherson_ v. _Snipe_, +that--" + +"Oh, did they?" he interrupts again: "doosid interesting. Was I for +plaintiff or defendant?" + +"Plaintiff, SMITHERS. A running-down case." + +"Wish it had been a running-up case--a case of running-up the fees," he +laughs. Then, resuming a more professional style, "You see, I've had such +multitudes of cases since then, that I've forgotten the precise details. +But you write out your own Opinion--not to-day; tomorrow will do. Then I'll +see what it's like. Now let's go a trot down the Strand." + +Another circumstance that strikes me as remarkable, is the frequency with +which I hear the Impressive Clerk (in the little room next to mine) +requesting persons who have called to "settle up that other little matter." +Then the strange voice laughs, and says--"Oh, your Governor can wait." "No, +he can't,"--it's the Clerk who says this--"it's been going on for three +years, now." "Well," chimes in the unknown, "let it go a bit longer. +When'll your Governor have settled those pleadings?" "When your people +settle about the five guineas, and not before," replies the Impressive +Clerk in his best Parliamentary debating style. Then follows a long +wrangle, not on law, but on finance, which never--as far as I can +judge--ends in the Clerk getting his way, and his money. + +[Illustration: "Looks like a Prime Minister in reduced circumstances."] + +Astonishing event happens. A real live new brief comes in! Impressive +Clerk--who looks like a Prime Minister in reduced circumstances--brings it +to FIBBINS when I am in the room. More impressive than ever. "From ROGERS, +in Chancery Lane--an excellent firm, Sir," he says. Poor FIBBINS tries, +ineffectually, to conceal his delight, and his eye turns instinctively to +the place where the fee is marked. + +"Six guas" (legal slang for guineas) "for an Opinion, not bad," he +comments, rubbing his hands. FIBBINS dusts a corner of his desk, and lays +it down there. + +_I_ am given this precious brief, and am asked to write a "draft Opinion" +about it! "Just to try your hand," says FIBBINS, who does not wish me to be +conceited. "Then I'll write my own afterwards," he adds. + +I make a very elaborate commentary, quoting from innumerable parallel cases +in English, American, and Roman law, and, after giving it to DICK FIBBINS +to read, I don't see it again. + +But, a few afternoons later, when Impressive Clerk happens to be out, a +knock comes. Nobody in. At last, go myself (_Query_--infra dig.?) and open +door. + +"Here!" says a juvenile, who apparently mistakes me for the Clerk, and +rudely chucks some papers to me, which hit me in the chest, "give these to +your Governor. What a time you take answering a knock! Having a nap, hay? +Take care old FIBBINS don't catch you at it, that's all!" Juvenile +disappears downstairs, whistling, before I can think of a suitable +rejoinder. + +Open the papers. The same brief returned with request to "draw up a +Statement of Claim,"--and my "Opinion" inside! It looks as if DICK sent +these clients of his _my_ valuable advice, pretending that it was his own! + +My learned "leader," when he comes in, treats affair very coolly. + +"Oh, did I send _your_ 'Opinion' to them as well as mine? What an ass I am! +I wonder what they thought of it?" + +I also wonder. In looking over the returned brief just now, however, I +certainly did not come across the "Opinion," manufactured by FIBBINS +himself, of which that learned Counsel spoke. And I have no second chance +of examining it, as he is careful to take "all the documents in the case" +(a phrase of the Impressive Clerk's) home with him, for what he calls +re-perusal. + +The conviction that it _was_ my Opinion, and mine alone, which FIBBINS +dispatched, probably out of sheer laziness, to ROGERS & CO., Solicitors, +Chancery Lane, is one that I still retain. But it is FIBBINS who retains +the fee! + + * * * * * + +AT THE CLOSE OF THE SUMMER. + +(_By one who idled. To his Lady-help._) + + I am back at my work, which is far from exciting + After nothing to do for a month at a time, + So I am not astonished to find myself writing + To you, dear MELENDA, and writing in rhyme. + In my rooms very often the scent of the heather + Brings back with it sweet recollections, and so + I think of the days when we idled together, + Far away in the country a fortnight ago. + + Yes, the two afternoons when, although we were sorry + That it rained, we went out as to do we had vowed, + And the wonderful echo we found in a quarry + That took what we whispered and said it aloud. + Whilst we wandered through fern-laden hedges and talked, it + So happened a dragon-fly flew by your side. + You remember, I'm sure, how you laughed as I stalked it, + And how it seemed hurt, as it finally died. + + Then I think of our pic-nic. The sunshine came glinting, + And we thought that the summer had come--come to stay. + We did not walk too fast, you were constantly hinting + You were really afraid we were losing our way. + I seemed to be catching two glimpses of heaven, + As I gazed at the sky and kept looking at you; + For the party that started by being just seven + Had a curious habit of shrinking to two. + + Why, that's quite sentimental. It isn't the fashion + To write of such things in so high flown a style. + Yet maybe I'm entitled to so much of passion + As to say that you won me outright with your smile. + Though a merciless fate may not let it befall so, + For we know not at all what there may be in store, + Yet next year, if you're down there--and I am there also, + Shall we do what we did in the summer before? + + * * * * * + +"TO ERR IS HUMAN."--"Even I am not always infallible," observed _Mr. P._, +on noticing that, in the dialogue under a picture, last week, the spelling +of "cover-coat" for "covert-coat" had escaped his eagle eye. Just as he was +wondering to himself how such things could be, his other and eagler eye +caught this line in the correspondence, _per_ "Dalziel," from Chicago, in +the _Times_ for Sept. 23:--"Great Britain has chosen a sight for her +buildings at the World's Fair." If "taken" had been substituted for +"chosen," the mistake might have borne a satirical meaning. No doubt Great +Britain has not made any error as to the site she has selected, from any +point of view. + + * * * * * + +MEM. IN COLOURS. + + Man's life is in two colours, simply told: + Green while you're young, and grey when you are old. + + * * * * * + +DOMESTIC COOKERY.--(_For a future New Edition of "Mrs. +Glasse-with-care"_)--It will contain suggestions for new dishes, to be +arranged according to grammatical divisions of gender and number, as "case" +already exists. A specimen of the first will be _Une Femme-lette_, a female +companion dish to _Un 'Ommelet_. Another example proposed is _La Petite +Marmite_ and _Le Petit Pa'mite_, two dishes most suitable for a very small +family party; say of dwarf Troglodytes. "Number" of dishes must always be +"a party question;" though at the same time politics will be rigidly +excluded from the new publication. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. +101. 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