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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/14965-8.txt b/14965-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fcf05b1 --- /dev/null +++ b/14965-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1657 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 103, +July 23, 1892, 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. 103, July 23, 1892 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 7, 2005 [EBook #14965] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +PUNCH, + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 103. + + + +July 23, 1892. + + + + +[Illustration: TOO CLEVER BY HALF. + +"AND WHERE DID YOU LEARN TO SPEAK ENGLISH SO WELL?" + +"FROM LADY JENKINSON'S CHILDREN, MADAME. I CAME OVER FROM SWITZERLAND +TO TEACH THEM FRENCH AND GERMAN!" + +"AND _DID_ THEY LEARN FRENCH AND GERMAN?" + +"NO, MADAME, NOT A WORD!"] + + * * * * * + +TO A SUMMER FLOWER. + + Oh, lovely flower sent from afar, + Like sunlight to this world of ours, + What art thou but a golden star, + A priceless gem amongst the flowers? + + Alas, all earthly things must die, + Thou, too, fair yellow flower must fade, + Thou wilt not charm an Artist's eye, + Upon the breast of some fair maid! + + Ah, no, thine is a nobler fate, + Unlike the lily or the rose, + Thou passest to a higher state + When in sad death thy petals close: + + For then thine outward form, grown pale + Is changed to what, at first scarce seen, + Is still thyself, so fair, so frail, + A little fruit of tender green! + + When quite matured, how very choice + Thy juicy flavour; who can then + Sing all thy worth with mortal voice, + Or write thy praise with mortal pen. + + There, take it gently from the ground, + O costermonger, to thy barrow, + And shout, with loud discordant sound, + The praise of Vegetable Marrow! + + * * * * * + +ROE, BLOATER'S-ROE. + + Faintly it wakes at the even chime, + The appetite long past its prime. + The supper-room at the Club looks dim. + What shall I "peck" for an epicure's whim? + Roe, Bloater's Roe! That's the brief repast + To tickle the palate, to break the fast! + + They may prate of the pleasures of "early purl," + Of the frizzled rasher's seductive curl, + But, when I fear I can munch no more, + When the thought of banquets becomes a bore, + Roe, Bloater's Roe, upon toast they cast, + And nausea's fled, and repletion's past! + + Yes Bloater's Roe--upon toast. Ah, boon! + That stayeth satiety, late or soon. + Best of _bonnes bouches_, that all seasons fits! + The tenderest tickler of all tit-bits! + Roe, Bloater's Roe! O _chef_, grill fast, + And prepare my palate its pet repast! + + * * * * * + +ONE FORM OF A "SHELLEY MEMORIAL."--Awful indigestion the morning after +a Lobster Supper. + + * * * * * + +FROM DAY TO DAY. + +(_A STUDY IN POLITICAL JOURNALISM, FROM SOME OF THE MORNING PAPERS._) + +NO. I. + +To-day, the first pollings of the General Election take place, and +the electors will be called upon to decide one of the most momentous +issues that have ever been submitted to the judgment of the country. +For ourselves, we cannot doubt for a moment as to what the verdict +will be. It is impossible that a policy of empty promises, backed +by mere misrepresentation, should prevail against a glorious record +of administrative, legislative, and financial success. Careful +calculations have convinced us that those who now hold the reins of +office will return to power with a largely increased majority, to +continue their beneficent work. The country recognises by this time +that anything short of that would mean disaster to the commonwealth. +Even with a small majority, the forces of disorder would be able to +work untold mischief. Such a result, however, is not within the bounds +of possibility, seeing that the Election will be fought purely and +simply on the Irish question, which has been placed fully before the +electorate in all its bearings. Our organisation is perfect, and our +triumph assured. + +NO. II. (_THREE DAYS LATER_.) + +We are constrained to admit that, so far, the result of the Elections +has not come up to the confident anticipations of our Party. Seats +have been lost that ought to have been retained. On the other hand, +we have failed to win seats that we had a right to count upon as +certainties. It is not easy to apportion the responsibility for +failure. Over-confidence and a consequent want of energy may have had +something to do with it; but the chief reason is to be found in the +disgracefully defective organisation of the Party. The story is an old +one. We have ourselves deemed it our duty to lay this aspect of the +case before the Leaders of the Party, but our repeated warnings have +been unheeded, and the necessary consequences have followed. Our +opponents, however, have not much to congratulate themselves upon. The +Irish question has been kept studiously in the back-ground, and the +results, so far as they have gone, only prove conclusively that there +is no diminution whatever in the dislike with which the majority of +the electorate regard the proposals of the party of disorder. We are +far from saying that even now we shall lose the Election. Everything +may yet be retrieved. But, even should the result be numerically +favourable to the Opposition, they will be powerless for mischief with +the small majority which is all they are likely to get. + +NO. III. (_A WEEK LATER_.) + +The Elections are now nearing an end, and it is possible to summarise +the results. It is not surprising that our opponents should be +reduced to the lowest depths of despair. They counted with the utmost +certainty on a majority of two hundred. But, as matters stand, it +is out of the question that their preponderance should exceed fifty. +Where are now the confident boastings with which they inaugurated the +campaign? They have confused the judgment of the electors with every +kind of side-issue. Misrepresentations have been sown broadcast, and +have, in too many instances, succeeded. But the great heart of the +country is still sound. Votes must be weighed as well as counted, and +it is safe to assume that, with a paltry and heterogeneous majority +of merely fifty, the advocates of revolution will be reduced to +impotence, even if they can succeed in forming a Government at all. +The result is one on which our Party may well congratulate themselves. +They have worked hard, and the solid fruit of their efforts is now +within their reach. We may safely say that the Irish policy of our +opponents has received its death-blow. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THERE HE BLOWS!" + +(_The German Emperor has gone Whaling in the North Seas._)] + + "There he blows! There he goes!" Like a Titan in throes, + With his wallopping tail, and his wave-churning nose, + The spouting Cetacean Colossus! + Eh? Harpoon that Monster! The thought makes one pale, + With one thundering thwack of that thumping big tail, + To the skies in small splinters he'd toss us! + + Rolling in foaming wild billows, ice-laden + He goes, like the "boisterous sea" (_vide_ HADYN!) + "Upheaved from the deep," swift, tremendous, + Leviathan sports on the far-foaming wave. + If _he_ runs athwart us, what power shall save, + From the doom to which promptly he'd send us? + + His "soundings," or "diggings," are many and deep; + But would that his "three-hundred fathoms" he'd keep, + Below in the ocean's cold quiet. + But no, not at all; he's not _that_ sort of whale! + He must breathe, he must blow, he must roar, till the gale + Is charged with the sound of his riot. + + Leviathan loves the wild turmoil of strife, + And lashing the billows to him is true life; + Behold how he buffets and scourges them! + Chase him? The Captain (though also a Kaiser), + Might think that his course to avoid him were wiser, + Until sheer necessity urges them. + + And yet whales _are_ beaten--by narwhals and men, + And other mere pigmies. 'Tis said, now and then, + E'en sword-fish can compass their ruin, + By stabbing together--in _Cassius's_ way + With _Cæsar_. Leviathan, dead, is a prey + To dog-fish, and sea-birds, or Bruin. + + There he blows! There he goes! Would an amateur Whaler, + Like WILHELM, that fine blend of Statesman and Sailor, + Incline to the chase and the capture + Of such a huge, wandering, wallopping whale, + To whom "Troubling the waters" with blow-holes and tail + Seems a source of such riotous rapture? + + * * * * * + +DUST AND HASHES. + +SIR,--When I first took my present house, I was advised to get a +Sanitary Dust-bin, instead of the old brick one which existed in my +back-yard. One of the blessings predicted for my Sanitary Dust-bin, +was, that it was "easily removable." I find this to be the case. It +has already been removed by some area-sneak, and as I have got rid +of the old brick dust-bin, the Vestry threaten to prosecute me for +creating a nuisance, because my dust is now placed in a corner under +my front steps. What am I to do? + +AGGRIEVED HOUSEHOLDER. + +SIR,--I find that the law recently passed against tips to Dustmen is +quite unknown--at all events, to the Dustmen themselves. My servants, +I find, go on freely bribing these functionaries, to remove bones and +vegetable refuse. Their rate of tipping, as far as I can make out, +is about a halfpenny per bone. If I were now to enforce the law and +forbid tips, I foresee that the Dustcarts would have pressing business +elsewhere, and would visit me about once a month. Then would follow +a _régime_ of "big, big, D.s"--in the window--which would be +intolerable. I prefer tipping to typhoid. + +Yours long sufferingly, VICTIM OF THE VESTRIES. + +SIR,--The Vestry is _quite right_ to insist on every house burning up +its own odds and ends. The _true_ domestic motto is--"Every kitchen +its own crematorium." I do this _habitually_, out of _public spirit_. +It is true that a sickening odour permeates the house for an hour +or two of every day, created by the combustion of dinner remnants; +also that most of my family suffer from bad sore throats, which they +attribute to this cause. What of that? The _truly good Citizen_ will +prefer to poison himself rather than his neighbours. + +A CLERKENWELL CATO. + +SIR,--I recently purchased _Dodger's Digest of Dustbin Law_, and +recommend it to the perusal of every householder. In the case of _The +Vestry of Shoreditch_ v. _Grimes_, Lord Justice SLUSH remarks--"The +Vestry complains that the Defendant's bin was improperly covered; +that, in fact, it was not under coverture. To this the Defendant +replies that his bin was void _ab initio_, as there was nothing in it. +Then the question arises whether the Defendant's Cook was justified +in tipping the Dustman into the empty bin, considering that the +Legislature has distinctly forbidden tips of all kinds to Dustmen. I +am of opinion that the Cook was the Defendant's agent, and that the +rule of _qui facit per alium facit per se_ applies here. The Cook's +proceeding was undoubtedly tortious; it was not a criminal action, +though it certainly cannot be called a civil one. I agree with +my brother CHIPPY that the _ratio decidendi_ must be, whether the +Dustman, in coming to clean out an empty dust-bin, had a _malus +animus_ or no. On all these points I hold that judgment must be +for the Vestry." Your readers will see the importance of such clear +_obiter dicta_. + +Yours, AMATEUR LAWYER. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: PROOF POSITIVE. + +"I CAN'T THINK HOW THAT IMPRESSION GOT ABOUT, LADY GWENDOLINE. I SPEND +HALF MY TIME IN CONTRADICTING IT. OUR NEW MEMBER IS BY NO MEANS A +SMALL MAN. I'VE BEEN ON THE PLATFORM WITH HIM OFTEN, AND HE STANDS +FULLY AS TALL AS I DO!"] + + * * * * * + +THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN. + +[Illustration] + + Soon on Piccadilly's pavement solitude once more will reign; + Soon the Park will be a desert, for the Season's on the wane; + In Belgravia's lordly mansions nearly all the blinds are down, + For "the Family is gone, Sir,"--not a soul is left in Town. + + South to Switzerland they hurry, to explore each snowy fell; + North to Scotland's moors and forests, where the grouse and + red-deer dwell; + Carlsbad, Homburg, Trouville, Norway, soon their jaded eyes will + view; + For Society is speeding "to fresh woods and pastures new." + + Everyone is gone or going,--everyone, that is, one knows,-- + And the "Great Elections'" Season fast is drawing to its close. + Never surely was a poorer; such dull dinners, so few balls, + Such an Epsom, such an Ascot, or so many empty stalls. + + Gone the Season, with its dances, with its concerts and its _fêtes_, + With its weddings and divorces, with its dinners and debates; + Gone are all its vapid pleasures, all its easy charities, + Gone its _causes célèbres_ and scandals, gone its tears and + tragedies. + + Weary legislators envy still more weary _chaperons_;-- + Much they know the truth who deem them of Society the drones;-- + All the maidens are _ennuyées_, vow they "can't do anymore," + All the gilded youth are yawning--everything's a horrid bore. + + Hearken then, ye youths and maidens, favoured Children of the West, + East and South and North are children, who are hungering for rest. + They have never seen the country, never heard the streamlet flow: + London pavements, London darkness, London squalor,--these they know. + + Not for them to range the moorland, or to climb the mountain-side; + They must linger on in London, till the grave their sorrows hide. + From year's end to dreary year's end they must pace the noisy + street. + Do you hear the ceaseless echo of their weary, weary feet? + + Just one day without your wine, Sir! Madam, just one ribbon less, + And one wearied child in London from afar your name will bless. + Think, ere now you seek your boredom in fresh pleasure-draughts to + drown, + Three or four benighted Millions still are left behind in Town! + + * * * * * + +GENERAL OPINION ON APPOINTMENT OF NEW CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD OF INLAND +REVENUE.--"MILNER's Safe." + + * * * * * + +CANVASSERS AND CANVASSED. + +(_AN ELECTIONEERING REMINISCENCE._) + + SCENE--_A narrow South London Street of two-storeyed houses, + with a Rag-and-Bone Shop at one end and a Public House at the + other. Time, about four o'clock on a warm Saturday afternoon. + Enter Mr. CARLTON-JERMYN, a middle-aged gentleman, in + faultless get-up, who, in a moment of weakness, has undertaken + to canvass the district for his friend, the Conservative + Candidate._ + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_to himself, as he regards his surroundings with dismay, +and tries to arrange his canvassing-cards_). I suppose this _is_ +Little Anna Maria Street? I didn't understand at the Committee Rooms +that it was _quite_ such a--however, I must do my best for dear old +TILNEY. Who's the first man I must see and "use my best endeavours to +persuade him into promising his vote?" Ah, Mr. J. SPLURGE, No. 1. (_He +picks his way delicately along, attempting to make out the numbers +on the doors, which are all thrown back; female residents watch him +from doorsteps and windows with amused interest._) No. 5; No. 3; the +next is No. 1. (_It is; but the entrance is blocked by a small infant +with a very dirty face, who is slung in a baby-chair between the +door-posts._) Very embarrassing, really! Can't ask such a child +as this if Mr. SPLURGE is at home! I'll knock. (_Stretches for the +knocker across the child, who, misinterpreting his intentions, sets up +a howl._) My good child, I assure you ... for Heaven's sake, don't!... +I--I wonder whether I ought to _kiss_ it--some fellows would! + +[Illustration: "I wonder whether I ought to _kiss_ it--some fellows +would!"] + +_Female Voice_ (_from side-window_). You leave that pore child alone, +will yer--or I'll come out and _tork_ to you, d'y'ear? + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_to himself_). That's _Mrs._ SPLURGE! I think, perhaps, +I'd better _not_ wait. (_With an inspiration._) I'll leave a card. +(_Drops one of his visiting-cards in the child's lap--to its exceeding +terror--and retreats._) I'm _afraid_ I haven't produced a very +favourable impression, so far, I'll try No. 2, across the street. (_He +approaches a doorstep upon which two stout and dishevelled Women are +seated._) Er--I _beg_ your pardon, but could you kindly inform me if +Mr.--er--(_consulting card_)--GUFFIN is at home? + +_First Woman_ (_with sarcasm_). Now _do_ yer think he's nothink else +to do but set indoors in a arm-cheer all day? + +_Mr. C.-J._ I--I thought--I hoped--that, it being Saturday, I might +be--er--fortunate enough--have I the pleasure of addressing Mrs. +GUFFIN? [_Both Women are convulsed with uncontrollable mirth._ + +_Second Woman_ (_on recovering--calling down the passage_). 'Ere, Mrs. +GUFFIN, yer wanted. 'Ere's a gentleman come to see yer! + +_Mrs. Guffin_ (_appearing from the basement, and standing at the +further end of the passage_). Well, what does _he_ want? + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_raising his hat, and sending his voice down the passage +to her_). I ventured to call, Mrs. GUFFIN, in the hope of finding your +husband at home, and ascertaining his--er--political sympathies, in +view of the Election. + +_Mrs. Guffin._ Oh, it's about the voting, is it? Are you for a +Conservatory? + +_Mr. C.-J._ For a--? Oh, to be sure, yes. I came to ask Mr. GUFFIN to +support Sir TILNEY BRUTON, the Conservative Candidate. Perhaps if I +called again, I might--? + +_Mrs. Guffin_ (_in a matter-of-fact tone_). I don't expect my 'usband +'ome till late, and then he'll be drunk. + +_Mr. C.-J._ Just so. But I trust, Mrs. GUFFIN, your husband feels the +importance of maintaining the Union--? + +_Mrs. Guffin._ He _did_ belong, I know, but I think his branch broke +up, or somethink. + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_puzzled_). Ah, but I mean in--er--politics--I hope he is +opposed to granting Home Rule to Ireland? + +_Mrs. G._ He don't tell _me_ nothing about his politics, but I've +'eard him say he was Radikil. + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_diplomatically, as Mrs. G. slowly edges towards +the door_). Might I suggest, Mrs. GUFFIN, that you should use +the--er--influence which every woman possesses, to--er--induce your +husband--(_here he suddenly becomes aware that Mrs. GUFFIN has a +very pronounced black eye_); but perhaps I ought not to ask you. + +_Mrs. G._ Well, _my_ opinion is--if you want someone to tork over my +'usband to your side, you'd better come and do it yourself; because +_I_ ain't goin' to. So there! [_She retires to the basement again._ + +_First Dish. W._ If you toffs can't do nothink better than come 'ere +makin' mischief between a man and his wife, you'd better stop at 'ome, +_that_ you 'ad! + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_to himself_). Upon my word, I believe she's right! But I +never noticed the poor woman's eye before. I wish I could find one +of the _men_ in, and have a talk with him--much more satisfactory! +(_Knocks at No. 4_) Is Mr. BULCHER at home? + +_Mr. B._ (_lurching out of a room on the ground-floor_). Qui' c'rect, +Guv'nor--thash me! + +_Mr. C.-J._ I wanted to see you, Mr. BULCHER, to ask if we may count +upon your support for the Conservative Candidate at the Election. I +need hardly point out to you the--er--vital importance of-- + +_Mr. B._ (_slouching against the passage-wall, opposite Mr. C.-J._). +'Old on, Guv'nor, lemme ashk you thish question, 'fore we go any +furrer. Wharriwanter 'ear from _you_ is--'Ow 'm I goin' git little bit +o' good outer thesh 'lections for myshelf. You unnershtand me? What +good Conshervative gov'men' ever done er workin' man--d' yer shee? +Why, never--not in all their born daysh! You take that shtraight from +me. + +_Mr. C.-J._ But surely--er--it was a Conservative Government that gave +you Free Education? + +_Mr. B._ (_knowingly_). No, it washn't, Guv'nor. There yer wrong, +d'yer see? It wash er _Radicals_ give us Free Education. And whatsh +Free Education er me? Wouldn' say Thank yer f'rall Free Education in +er wide world! + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_recognising that he must strike a stronger chord_). +Well, at all events you will admit that, during the last six years, +you have been--er--peaceful and prosperous? + +_Mr. B._ (_beerily_). I've been peashful and proshperous ever sinsh +I was born. No, look 'ere, Guv'nr, I'm torken to you 'bout wharri +_unnershtan'_, d'yer see? Jes' you lishen er wharri'm goin tell you. +(_Here he punctuates his remarks by poking Mr. C.-J.'s ribs with +a clay pipe._) Workin' man's gettin' more and more 'telligent every +day--he'sh qui' capable lookin' after his own interests. What +he wantch is, One Man One Vote, Redooced Hours o' Labour, 'Ome +Rule for London, an' the Control of the Liquor Traffic! What did +Misher GLADSHTONE say? Educated and 'telligent clashes alwaysh +_wrong_--mashes always _ri'_! An' hain't _I_ 'telligent an' educated? +Very _well_, then. There you _'ave_ it. + +_Mr. C.-J._ But--er--don't you see, my friend, that, according to Mr. +GLADSTONE, the more intelligent and educated you are, the more you're +wrong? + +_Mr. B._ Nothing of--er--kind. Don' you make any mishtake. _I_ ain't +wrong. I gommy 'pinions--my p'litical 'pinions, and the prinshiples I +go 'pon are--Down with--er--Tories! + +_Mr. C.-J._ In that case, Mr. BULCHER, I need not occupy your time any +longer, so I'll say-- + +_Mr. B._ (_buttonholing him_). Don' you go 'way, Guv'nor, 'fore I've +finished torkin. I've lishened all _you_ gorrer say--now itsh +_my_ turn talk, and I tell _you_ er Conshervative Gov'men ish a +downri'--&c., &c. + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_escaping, after ten minutes' incoherence_). I'm afraid +he was not _quite_ in a condition to be argued with, but perhaps I +shall do better with Mr. MOLESKIN, next door. (_To a small boy in +passage._) Mr. MOLESKIN in, my lad? + +_The Boy._ Father--_e's_ in. Go right up the stairs, and you'll find +'im. + + [_Mr. C.-J. flounders up the narrow stairs, and is met at the + top by a very burly and surly mechanic._ + +_Mr. Moleskin_. Now, then, what do _you_ want 'ere? (Mr. C.-J. +_explains his object, in some confusion_.) Oh, that's it, is it? And +what right ha' you got comin' up my stairs as if they belonged to you? +Jest you tell me that! + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_meekly_). I'm really very sorry--but I was--er--_shown_ +up. + +_Mr. M._ It's 'igh time you and the likes o' you _were_ shown up, in +my opinion. 'Ow would you like to 'ave me comin' bustin' up _your_ +stairs, eh? + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_thinking that he wouldn't like it at all_). I assure +you I quite feel that this is an unwarrantable intrusion on my part--I +must ask you to accept my best apologies--but I should be very glad +to know that we might count on your--er--support at such a national +crisis. + +_Mr. M._ I dessay yer would. But what I ask _you_ is--where does the +secresy of the Ballot come in, if I'm to tell you which way I'm goin' +to give my vote? + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_in distress_). Pray believe that I should not dream +of--er--forcing any confidence from you, or dictating to you in any +way! I merely-- + +_Mr. M._ (_mollified_). Well, I don't mind tellin' yer this +much:--I've made up _my_ mind long ago, and, when the time comes, I +shall vote to please myself and nobody else; and that's as much as +you've got any right to know! + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_with a feeling that he would give much the same answer +himself under similar circumstances_). Then I'm afraid it would be of +no use if I said any more? + +_Mr. M._ Not a bit o' use! [_He goes into his room again._ + +_Mrs. Moleskin_ (_coming out and addressing her son from landing_). +'Ere, JIMMY, you come in orf o' that doorstep, and don't you go +showin' any _more_ folks up, or you don't know _oo'_ you may let in +next! + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_sadly, to himself, as he descends_). I'd no idea +canvassing was such exhausting work. I--I really think I've done +enough for one afternoon! [_Leaves Little Anna Maria Street--for +ever!_ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "Bear with us!"] + +"BEAR WITH US."--In the case reported in the papers last week of "an +infuriated bear shot at Croydon," Inspector ORMONDE said that "when +the ring had been removed from its lip, the animal was so much +relieved that it immediately turned a somersault." A picture of this +interesting incident should be at once painted and hung up in the +Divorce Court. The husband, who has become quite a bear in consequence +of his better half having rendered herself quite unbearable, would +naturally turn head-over-heels with joy on getting quit of the ring. +But alas! mark the end of the poor bear. He got more and more excited; +he had to be looked up in a stable. Here the joy and novelty of the +situation overcame him; his mighty brain gave way; he became mad as +a hatter--(_Alice in Wonderland_ might have asked, "Then why didn't +they send for a hatter, who would have brought a chimney-pot, or some +sort of a tile for his bear-head?")--and subsequently the veterinary +Mr. THRALE (whose ancestral namesake had considerable experience +in dealing with that learned bear. Dr. JOHNSON) procured a gun, and +potted the bear. Awkward in his life, but grease-ful in his death. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: EDWARDO AND EDWINI. + +A JAPANESE JAPE BY OUR EVER-ON-THE-SPOT ARTIST "LIKA JOKO," +REPRESENTING SIR EDWIN ARNOLD RECEIVING THE ORDER OF "THE FIRST +DESCRIPTIVE LEADER" FROM H.J.M., DALI TELLI, THE MIKADO.] + + * * * * * + +LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS. + +_Mount Street, Grosvenor Square._ + +DEAR MR. PUNCH, + +Anything more dreary than racing during this week's weather at +Newmarket can scarcely be imagined! I have often heard Lord ARTHUR +declare he was "as dry as a limekiln," and always thought it an absurd +expression; and now I _know_ it is!--for anything more _wet_ than +the Limekilns at Newmarket this week I never saw!--it's a mystery to +me how the poor horses and men avoid catching cold, cantering about +there without galoshes--though, by the way, Mr. HAMMOND had _one_ +"_Galoche_" which, of course, was not much use! + +Owing to the smallness (that's a good word) of the attendance, we were +"pinched" a little in the prices, and of course the pinch came where +one least expected it, which was somewhat disconcerting--but as most +of the "good things" came off all right--(especially those we took +with us from BENOIST and FORTNUM's)--it did not matter so much. Ladies +of course were chiefly conspicuous by their absence, but my sweet +friend Lady NEWMAN GATESHEAD was quite the _Belle_ of the gathering, +and attracted nearly as much attention as the _Queen of Navarre_, who +naturally won her race in royal style! + +My selection for the Chesterfield Stakes, _Meddler_, was successful +after a short struggle with the Duke of PORTLAND's _Kilmarnock_ to +whom he had to give five pounds (I hope this does not mean that the +noble owner is in want of money!); but I am told the latter was not +"fit" and "will do better with time!" though I don't quite see how +that can be, as surely "time" travels faster than _Meddler_, so that, +unless they take time with him, the handicap will be difficult to +frame! By the way, when the handicaps _are_ framed, where do they hang +them up? and is it one of the "perks" of the Handicapper to supply the +frames? + +Those who waited in the rain for the last race on Wednesday were +rewarded with a splendid exhibition of horsemanship, given by WEBB on +_St. Angelo_; who appears to be somewhat of a "handful" (_St. Angelo_ +I mean, not WEBB, who is very slight), and evinces a strong desire +to run in any direction but the one desired of him! I think Mr. +MILNER should have him trained on a zigzag method, when his natural +wilfulness would cause him to run straight when racing! This is an +excellent idea, and I have others equally good (applicable to all +styles of horses), which I intend to suggest to different trainers on +my next visit to Newmarket! + +We were all relieved when the "curtain rang down" on Thursday--(this +is not, at first sight, a racing expression, but is largely used by +sporting writers, as demonstrating the diversified nature of their +knowledge!), in time for us to catch the early special for Liverpool +Street; which, special, might really, from the major portion of its +patrons, have been thought to be starting for Jerusalem! + +Friday was a glorious day for the Eclipse, which was only visible from +the Observatory at Esher--the best account appears to have been given +by Professor _Orme_, who recovered from his recent severe illness just +in time to be present. + +Just a word in conclusion on the big race of next week--a paradox--be +"wide awake" and go "nap" on my tip, from information privately given +to + +Yours devotedly, LADY GAY. + +LIVERPOOL CUP SELECTION. + + Some owners win, although their gee + In temper be a "villen;" + As that is not the sort for me, + I favour "_Enniskillen_." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: EN PASSANT. + +_He_. "THAT'S THAT ASS, BOUNDERSON, ISN'T IT? HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN +DROWNED AS A _PUPPY_!" + +_She_. "THERE'S TIME ENOUGH _YET_, ISN'T THERE?"] + + * * * * * + +THE POLITICAL JOHNNY GILPIN. + +THE FINISH. + +(_Further-discovered Fragments of the Grand Old Ballad, giving the +Sequel of the strange story begun in "Punch," No. 2660, July 2, p. +318._) + + * * * * * + + So fair and softly! JOHNNY cried, + But JOHNNY cried in vain; + That trot became a gallop soon, + In spite of curb and rein. + + So, stooping down, as needs he must + Who cannot sit upright, + He grasped the mane with both his hands, + And eke with all his might. + + * * * * * + + Away went GILPIN neck or nought, + Away went hat and wig; + He little dreamt when he set out + Of running such a rig. + + The wind did blow, the cloak did fly + Like streamer long and gay, + Till people thought, and JOHN half feared, + That it might fly away. + + Then might all gazers well discern + The bottles he had slung; + A bottle swinging at each side, + As hath been said or sung. + + Away went GILPIN--who but he? + His fame soon spread around; + "He carries weight! He rides a race!" + "He'll win it, we'll be bound!" + + * * * * * + + Then all through merry London Town, + These gambols he did play; + Until he came to rural parts, + Where rustics lined the way. + + There labourers shouted, women screamed, + Up flew the felt-hats all; + And every yokel yelled, "Well done!" + As loud as he could bawl. + + * * * * * + + Away went GILPIN, out of breath, + And fearing much a "spill;" + But knowing till his race was run + His horse would not stand still. + + His hat was gone, his W(h)ig also, + His cloak he had to clutch. + Could he hold on? A mile or two + Would put it to the touch. + + A church-bell clanging, scared his steed, + Pigs dashed betwixt its feet; + And on his own beloved North Road, + JOHN _almost_ lost his seat. + + On the North Road, his sometime friends, + Their sometime favourite spied, + Well-nigh dismounted, wondering much, + To see how he did ride. + + "Ride straight, JOHN GILPIN--for the House!" + JOHN's Liberal Dame did cry. + "The Party waits, and we feel tired." + Said GILPIN--"So do I!" + + But yet his horse was not a whit + Inclined due North to stay; + For why?--his stables at the House + Were out Westminster way. + + So like an arrow swift he flew + Back southward through the throng, + Who shouted loud, "He yet will win! + JOHN GILPIN's going strong!" + + * * * * * + + And now Town's traffic once again + For horse and man made space, + The drivers thinking, as before, + That GILPIN rode a race. + + And so he did--and won it, too, + For he got first to Town; + And, stiff and sore, at the House door, + Bare winner, he got down. + + Now let us sing, Long live the QUEEN, + And GILPIN, long live he! + And when he next doth ride due North, + May we be there to see! + + * * * * * + +A GOOD STAYER.--From the _Times_ of Tuesday, the 12th, we cull this:-- + + IN ANY CAPACITY of TRUST.--Seven years in first-class Turkish + Bath. Patience and perseverance. Good invalid attendant. + Active and attentive. + +"Seven years in a Turkish Bath!" As Mr. WILSON BARRETT would +exclaim, "How long! How long!" What better example of patience and +perseverance, which, as all know, are "good for the gout," could +possibly be given? That after this long stay in the Turkish Bath, he +should be "a good invalid attendant," goes without saying. And not +only is he "attentive," which is a great point in an "attendant," but +he is also active--and this after so long a stay in a Turkish Bath, of +which, however, he does not mention the temperature. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE POLITICAL JOHNNY GILPIN. + +(_THE FINISH_.) + +"SO LIKE AN ARROW SWIFT HE FLEW BACK SOUTHWARD THROUGH THE THRONG, WHO +SHOUTED LOUD, 'HE YET WILL WIN! JOHN GILPIN'S GOING STRONG!' + +"AND SO HE DID--AND WON IT, TOO, FOR HE GOT FIRST TO TOWN; AND, STIFF +AND SORE, AT THE HOUSE DOOR, BARE WINNER, HE GOT DOWN."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "COLOURABLE SHAKSPEARIAN IMITATION." + +_Othello, M.P. for Central Finsbury_ (_saluting Sarum, Doge of +Westminster_). "HAPLY THAT I AM BLACK--" [_Doge shudders, but feels +unable to withdraw._] + + * * * * * + +OPERATIC NOTES. + +_Wednesday_.--Crowded for WAGNER's _Götterdämmerung_, "which," says +the _Rev. Mr. Penley_, who "doesn't like London," "is such an awful +name, that fond as I am of music, I really could not go and see it." +As to WAGNER, well, "it's all right when you know him, but you've got +to know him fust." + +Herr ALVARY excellent as _Siegfried_; Herr WIEGAND powerful; ditto +the wide-awake Herr KNAPP. Frau KLAFSKY, a beautiful and interesting +_Brünnhilde_; and it is difficult to be personally interesting in a +Wagnerian Opera, where _ensemble_ is everything. Fräulein HEINE and +BETTAQUE, equally good. + +Herr MAHLER was "called," with the rest of the company, to receive his +meed of praise for conducting. Opera perfectly put on Stage by Herr +von DRURIOLANUS, and though the Season is coming to an end, yet the +Opera is still "going strong." + + * * * * * + +NOTE AND QUERY BY MRS. R.--Our old friend wants to know from what Poet +comes this quotation-- + + "A needless Salamander ends the line." + +Mrs. R. thinks it's from POPE; but if so, she asks what Pope? as there +are so many of 'em. + + * * * * * + +ORNAMENTAL STRUCTURE IN NEW NORFOLK.--A Triumphal ARCH. + + * * * * * + +STUDIES IN THE NEW POETRY. + +NO. IV. + +In offering this fourth example of the New Poetry to his readers, _Mr. +Punch_ wishes it to be distinctly understood, that he is in no way +responsible, personally, for the curious mixture of divinities and +semi-divinities who figure in it. It is one of the distinguishing +marks of this particular sort of New Poetry to pile up a confusion of +more or less mythological names in a series of swinging and resonant +lines. In one line the reader may imagine himself to be embarked in +the River Cocytus. In the next, he will be surprised to find himself +in Eden. Blood, battle, bumptiousness, and an aggressive violence, are +special characteristics of this style of writing. Some of the lines +apparently mean nothing at all, others are calculated to make timid +people tremble; and the effect of the whole is generally picturesque, +lurid, and uncomfortable. + +One of the great advantages of a poem like this, is that it may be +used for all kinds of purposes. For example, if it was originally +written as an invective against an opponent, it may afterwards, with +the utmost ease, be made to serve as a threnody. Here then without +further preface is:-- + +THE SUNDERED FLEA. + +BY MR. R*DY*RD K*PL*NG. + + Out on the path of the blazing ball that has hurtled a million + years, + Where the uttermost light glows red by night in the clash of the + angry spheres, + Where never a tear-drop dims the eye, and sorrows are stifled young, + And the Anglo-Indians snigger and sneer with the jest of a bitter + tongue. + + Where the tribesmen mock at the Bengalee and shiver their spears + in vain, + And officers steep their souls chin-deep in brandy and dry + champagne; + Where the Rudyard river runs, flecked with foam, far forth to the + Kipling seas, + And the maker of man takes walks abroad with Pagan deities. + + Where AZRAEL talks to the Graces Three, and the Muses Nine stand by, + And ask Greek riddles of BUDDHA, who never makes reply. + (Gentlemen all and ladies too as smart as a brand-new pin), + And nobody wonders how on earth so mixed a lot got in-- + + Here in the track of a thunderbolt from the nethernmost smithy + hurled, + With the groan of an ancient passion rent from the wreck of a + shattered world, + In the white-hot pincers of BAAL borne through cycles of agony, + Lit by the Pit's red wrath there came the Soul of a Sundered Flea. + + And all that company started back; first AZRAEL grimly smiled, + The smile that an East-End Coster smiles, by a stout policeman + riled; + And BUDDHA made no remark at all, but nodded his heavy head, + Like a boy who has eaten too much dessert, and wants to be put to + bed. + + And the Muses Nine, as they stood in line, they shuddered and + turned to go. + "A joke's a joke, but I can't bear fleas," said CLIO to ERATO. + And the Graces, the good Conservative Three, shrank back to a spot + remote, + And observed that they knew that this would come from letting the + Masses vote. + + Then AZRAEL spake--"On the Stygian lake I floated a half-sinned sin + On the crest of a cross-grained stickleback, that is caught with a + crooked pin; + For a year and a day I watched it whirl, but never that sin could be + One-half so base as your gruesome face, O Soul of a Sundered Flea! + + "What ill have ye done? Speak up, speak up!--for this is no place, + I trow, + For the puling people on virtue fed. So speak, or prepare to go." + But the Flea flew free from the pincers' grip, and uttered a + single phrase-- + "I have lived on blood, as a gentleman should, and that is my + claim to praise." + + Then a shout of joy from the throng went forth; they built him a + crystal throne, + And there in his pride, with none beside, he rules and he reigns + alone. + And this is the tale which I here set down, as the story was told + to me-- + In excellent Rudyard-Kipling verse--the tale of the Sundered Flea. + + * * * * * + +ANTICIPATORY NEWS (_from Our Own Court Tripping Newsman_).--Sir +ALGERNON BORTHWICK, Bart, M.P., will be raised to the Peerage with the +title of Lord MORNINGPOST, of Penniwise, Seefarshire, N.B. + + * * * * * + +An Anti-lawn-tennis Lady considers that the argument against Croquet, +as a game involving a bent back, and a narrowing of the chest, is +merely "A very stoopit objection." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: GUSHING HOSPITALITY. (TIME 3 P.M.) + +_Hospitable Host_. "HAVE C'GAR, OLD F'LLA?" + +_Languid Visitor_. "NO--THANKS!" + +_H.H._ "CIGARETTE THEN?" + +_His Visitor_. "NO--THANKS. NEVAR SMOKE 'MEJATELY AFTER BREAKFAST." + +_H.H._ "CAN'T REFUSE A TOOTHPICK, THEN, OLD F'LLA?"] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +_The Royal Agricultural Society's Journal_. A Society Journal of +a peculiar character, of which this is the Third Series and Third +Volume. It is noticeable for Lord CATHCART's appeal for the wild +birds, which, as addressed to farmers and farm-labourers and armed +ploughboys, may be summed up by an adaptation of the refrain of the +remonstrance--so frequently urged by one of Lieutenant COLE's funny +figures--"Can't you let the birds alone?" Then Mr. HASTING "On +Vermin," which doesn't sound nice, though better than if the title +were _vice versâ_,--is most interesting, especially where he tells us +that "shrews are harmless." If so, why did SHAKSPEARE give us "_The +Taming of the Shrew_" as such a feat? Professor BROWN writes about +disease in sheep, of which paper Lord ARTHUR WEEDON DE GROSSMITH +would be absolutely correct in observing, "What rot!" And, by the +way, _à propos_ of WEEDON, the Baron has to congratulate the Brothers +GROSSMITH on their _Diary of a Nobody_, republished from _Mr. Punch's_ +pages, but with considerable additions. The Diary is very funny, not +a page of it but affords matter for a good laugh; and yet the story +is not without a touch of pathos, as it is impossible not to pity the +steady, prim, old-fashioned jog-trot NOBODY, whose son, but just one +remove above a regular 'ARRY, treats him with such unfilial rudeness. + +It has been complained that the late General Election has not been +amusing, and has given birth to little fun. Let those who feel this +most acutely read Mr. R.C. LEHMANN's _The "Billsbury Election (Leaves +from the Diary of a Candidate)."_ He will tell you how Mr. RICHARD +B. PATTLE contested Billsbury in the Constitutional Interest; how he +"buttered up Billsbury like fun," was badgered by Billsbury, heckled +by Billsbury, taxed, tithed and tormented by Billsbury, and eventually +"chucked" by Billsbury, by the aggravatingly small majority of +seventeen. Also how his "Mother bore up like a Trojan, and said she +was prouder of me than ever." Just so. + + I hold it true whate'er befall, + I wrote so, to the _Morning Post_; + 'Tis better to have "run" and lost, + Than never to have run at all. + +"Modern Types" and "Among the Amateurs" are well known to the readers +of _Punch_. But lovers of C.S. CALVERLEY--that is to say, all but a +very few ill-conditioned critical creatures--and of neat verse with a +sting to it, should turn to p. 203 (A.C.S. _v_. C.S.C.), and read and +enjoy the smart slating Mr. LEHMANN administers to tumid, tumultuous, +thrasonic, turncoatist ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE, for saying +of the brilliant and well-beloved Author of _Fly Leaves_, &c., +that he--forsooth!--is "monstrously overrated and preposterously +overpraised"!!! BARON DE B.-W. & Co. + + * * * * * + +WANTED IN THE LAW COURTS. + +A Junior who will wear his gown straight, and not pretend that intense +preoccupation over dummy briefs prevents him from knowing that it is +off one shoulder. + +A Judge who can resist the temptation to utter feeble witticisms, and +to fall asleep. + +A Witness who answers questions, and incidentally tells the truth. + +A Jury who do not look supremely silly, and ridiculously +self-conscious, when directly addressed or appealed to by Counsel; +or one that really understands that the Judge's politeness is only +another and subtle form of self-glorification. + +A Q.C. who is not "eminent," who does not behave "nobly," and who can +avoid the formula "I suggest to you," in cross-examination; or one +that does not thunder from a lofty and inaccessible moral altitude so +soon as a nervous Witness blunders or contradicts himself. + +An Usher who does not try to induce the general public, especially the +female portion thereof, to mistake him for the Lord Chancellor. + +A Solicitor who does not strive to appear _coram populo_ on terms of +quite unnecessarily familiar intercourse with his leading Counsel. + +An Articled Clerk who does not dress beyond his thirty shillings +a-week, and think that the whole Court is lost in speculation as to +the identity of that distinguished-looking young man. + +An Associate who does not go into ecstasies of merriment over every +joke or _obiter dictum_ from the Bench. + +Anybody who does not give loud expression to the opinion at the +nearest bar when the Court rises, that he could have managed the case +for either or both sides infinitely better than the Counsel engaged. + +A Court-house whose atmosphere is pleasant and invigorating after the +Court has sat for fifteen minutes. + +(Anyone concerned who, on reading these remarks in print, will think +that the cap can, by any _scintilla_ of possibility, fit himself.) + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: BUFFALO WILLIAM'S GREAT WILD N.S.E. & W. SHOW. THE +LATEST "UNSEATING ACT."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF A LABOUR CANDIDATE. + +WARRANTED TO "SWEEP THE COUNTRY," AND MAKE HIS MARK IN THE HOUSE OF +COMMONS. (NATURALLY A FLUE-NT SPEAKER)!] + + * * * * * + +JUSTICE FOR 'FRISCO. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--I notice that a complaint has been made that those +charming stories of wild life in the Far West, are out of date. +Nay, more, that they are calculated to do a great deal of harm to +a considerable amount of valuable property. On the other hand, the +talented authors of the picturesque romances to which I have referred, +insist that there is a great demand for these literary wares, and they +would suffer much loss if they were to discontinue their production. + +Could not the matter be compromised? We are less sensitive than our +American cousins, and if the scene were changed from St. Francisco to +some quiet watering-place on the Kentish Coast, our kindred beyond +the seas ought to be satisfied. I do not pretend to be a master of the +style of those who write Backwood sensations, but I think I can jot +down a few lines to show what I mean. Beneath I give a specimen of the +sort of thing that might take the place of stories revelling in such +titles as the "_Luck of Murder Camp_," "_Slack Bill's Banker_," and +"_The Talk of Stab-in-the-Backman's Chasm_." + +THE CHAFF OF HERNE BAY CREEK. + +CHAPTER XX.--_CHARLEY MEETS A CHUM_. + +The Miners who had been digging all day long the rough shingle for +treasure-trove, had retired to their rudely constructed cabins. These +rough huts were built of wood, and furnished with a seat on either +side. There were two small windows let into the oaken walls--each +of them not more than six inches square. They were absolutely free +from furniture--save perhaps, a foot of cheap looking-glass, and +here and there a wooden-peg used by the Miners for hanging up their +slouch-hats, their red flannel-shirts, and their long leather-boots. + +These huts were not unlike the other habitations in the wild Far West, +save that they had this peculiarity--each hut was mounted on a huge +springless framework, supported by four lumbering wooden wheels. By +this arrangement the hut could be moved from place to place, sometimes +to the fields, with their mines of undiscovered treasure; sometimes to +the sea, burdened with legacies of the mighty deep. + +CHARLEY was smoking a pipe, and thinking of that fair home in San +Francisco, the very centre of civilisation, where the hotels were +admirable, the stores well stocked, and house property at a premium. + +"I did not discover a single ruby yesterday," he murmured, and then +he looked at the wooden spade of a child--"I found only there a young +'un's toy. But it has softened my heart, and taught me that human +nature is human nature." + +He paused to wipe away with a sunburnt hand a furtive tear. + +"CHARLEY, my lad," he exclaimed, "this is unmanly. What would DARE +DEATH DICK or THUNDER TIM say to such a show of water?" + +He took the spade, and was about to throw it with violence to the +ground, when his better nature triumphed, and he placed it, almost +with reverence, on the bench beside him. + +He was disturbed by a tap on the outer door--the door that faced the +sea. + +"Who's there?" he shouted, as he held in one hand a revolver, and in +the other a bowie-knife of the usual fashion. + +"Are you ready?" + +It was a gruff voice, and yet there was something feminine about +it. CHARLEY had never feared to meet a woman yet, and he did not now +shrink from the encounter. However his training had made him cautious. +It might be a trap of the bloodthirsty Indians--those Children of +Nature who were known to indulge in any cruel subterfuge to secure the +white men as their prey. + +"Are you ready?" was repeated in the same gruff voice, but now the +tone was one of entreaty. The speaker seemed to be imploring for a +reply. + +CHARLEY hesitated no longer. He put down the bowie-knife, and still +holding the revolver, opened the door. + +He started back! Yes, it was a woman who confronted him. But such a +woman! Her face was weather-beaten and sunburnt. Her hair was grey, +and there were pieces of sea-weed in the shapeless mass that once may +have been called a bonnet. She was wearing a heavy serge dress that +was dripping with the sea. On her huge feet were old boots sodden with +sand and wet. She might have been of any age, from fifty upwards. + +She gazed at CHARLEY with an uncanny smile, and extended her arms +towards him. Then she spoke in the same gruff tone, + +"Come to your MARTHA!" + +And CHARLEY knew he had met a chum! + + * * * * * + +There, something like the above might do. The woods in the +neighbourhood of Herne Bay are just the places for adventure, and, +with thought, a good deal might be managed with the Reculvers. + +And now, _Mr. Punch_, I have done. + +Yours respectfully, A WILD WELSH RAREBIT. + + * * * * * + +COMMERCE À L'AMÉRICAINE. + +(_PAGE FROM A DIARY ON THE POINT OF BEING WRITTEN_.) + +_Monday_.--Miners of the Great Hagglenaggle Fields ask for increase +of wages, emphasising their demand by firing off revolvers and +brandishing bowie-knives. + +_Tuesday_.--Masters of the Great Hagglenaggle Fields refuse to treat +with Miners, and entrench themselves behind ironclad back gardens. +They also send for a force of PATTERSON's Mercenary Chuckers-out. +Fighting imminent. + +_Wednesday_.--Appearance of PATTERSON's Mercenary Chuckers out. They +are met by Miners with discharges of Gattling guns and land torpedoes. + +_Thursday_.--The two armies face to face. Both sides fire away, using +up all their ammunition. End of the day's contest, no balance on +either side. Great success of the new General Interment Company. +Shares at thirty premium. + +_Friday_.--Reinforcements for both sides. A general engagement +considered imminent. In the meanwhile, _pour passer le temps_, +skirmishes and slaughter of thousands. + +_Saturday_.--First-class, regular all-round battle. A large force +arrived to fight the Miners, Gatlings and Krupps blaze away without +intermission. Losses on both sides pretty considerable. + +_Sunday_.--Conversion of the Great Hagglenaggle Fields into a +cemetery. Great rise in shares on allotment. Ten acres of booking in +advance! + + * * * * * + +LAYS OF MODERN HOME. + +NO. III.--OFF FOR MY HOLIDAY. + + Yes! I'm off for my holiday. Forty odd pieces + Of luggage, three cabs, and a van, and a 'bus too. + Without counting loose wraps, and umbrellas in creases, + And sweets that my darlings are sucking with gusto. + + Yes! I'm off for my holiday--wife in hysterics, + Since nowhere on earth can her poodle be found; + And the nurses and children--ANNES, LILIANS, ERICS-- + All screaming, and fussing, and fuming around! + + Yes! I'm off for my holiday--Tyneside, or Deeside, + Or Lakes, or that Switzerland English, Hind Head, + Or the thousand monotonies known as "The Seaside"-- + Ask not whither my fugitive footsteps are led. + + For whatever the place, it is ever the same thing; + Poor Paterfamilias always must suffer. + A dyspeptic, a costly, a lame and a tame thing + Is Holiday-time for a family buffer. + + Yes! I'm off for my holiday--where I won't mention; + They are pulling the blinds of my drawing-room down: + But next year--if I live--it's my solemn intention + _To stay, upon business, en garçon, in Town_. + + * * * * * + +FAIR PROSPECTS OF FINE WEATHER.--No rain on St. Swithin's, and last +week the County of Inverness discarded its MACKINTOSH. + + * * * * * + +NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., +Printed 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. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. +103, July 23, 1892, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 14965-8.txt or 14965-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/9/6/14965/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, 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. 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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. 103, July 23, 1892 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 7, 2005 [EBook #14965] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 103.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>July 23, 1892.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page25" + id="page25"></a>[pg 25]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/25.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/25.png" + alt="TOO CLEVER BY HALF." /></a> + + <h3>TOO CLEVER BY HALF.</h3> + + <p>"AND WHERE DID YOU LEARN TO SPEAK ENGLISH SO WELL?"</p> + + <p>"FROM LADY JENKINSON'S CHILDREN, MADAME. I CAME OVER + FROM SWITZERLAND TO TEACH THEM FRENCH AND GERMAN!"</p> + + <p>"AND <i>DID</i> THEY LEARN FRENCH AND GERMAN?"</p> + + <p>"NO, MADAME, NOT A WORD!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>TO A SUMMER FLOWER.</h2> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Oh, lovely flower sent from afar,</p> + + <p class="i2">Like sunlight to this world of ours,</p> + + <p>What art thou but a golden star,</p> + + <p class="i2">A priceless gem amongst the flowers?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Alas, all earthly things must die,</p> + + <p class="i2">Thou, too, fair yellow flower must + fade,</p> + + <p>Thou wilt not charm an Artist's eye,</p> + + <p class="i2">Upon the breast of some fair maid!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Ah, no, thine is a nobler fate,</p> + + <p class="i2">Unlike the lily or the rose,</p> + + <p>Thou passest to a higher state</p> + + <p class="i2">When in sad death thy petals close:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>For then thine outward form, grown pale</p> + + <p class="i2">Is changed to what, at first scarce + seen,</p> + + <p>Is still thyself, so fair, so frail,</p> + + <p class="i2">A little fruit of tender green!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>When quite matured, how very choice</p> + + <p class="i2">Thy juicy flavour; who can then</p> + + <p>Sing all thy worth with mortal voice,</p> + + <p class="i2">Or write thy praise with mortal pen.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There, take it gently from the ground,</p> + + <p class="i2">O costermonger, to thy barrow,</p> + + <p>And shout, with loud discordant sound,</p> + + <p class="i2">The praise of Vegetable Marrow!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>ROE, BLOATER'S-ROE.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Faintly it wakes at the even chime,</p> + + <p>The appetite long past its prime.</p> + + <p>The supper-room at the Club looks dim.</p> + + <p>What shall I "peck" for an epicure's whim?</p> + + <p>Roe, Bloater's Roe! That's the brief repast</p> + + <p>To tickle the palate, to break the fast!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>They may prate of the pleasures of "early purl,"</p> + + <p>Of the frizzled rasher's seductive curl,</p> + + <p>But, when I fear I can munch no more,</p> + + <p>When the thought of banquets becomes a bore,</p> + + <p>Roe, Bloater's Roe, upon toast they cast,</p> + + <p>And nausea's fled, and repletion's past!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Yes Bloater's Roe—upon toast. Ah, boon!</p> + + <p>That stayeth satiety, late or soon.</p> + + <p>Best of <i>bonnes bouches</i>, that all seasons + fits!</p> + + <p>The tenderest tickler of all tit-bits!</p> + + <p>Roe, Bloater's Roe! O <i>chef</i>, grill fast,</p> + + <p>And prepare my palate its pet repast!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>ONE FORM OF A "SHELLEY MEMORIAL."—Awful indigestion + the morning after a Lobster Supper.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>FROM DAY TO DAY.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>A Study in Political Journalism, from some of the + Morning Papers.</i>)</h4> + + <h4>No. I.</h4> + + <p>To-day, the first pollings of the General Election take + place, and the electors will be called upon to decide one of + the most momentous issues that have ever been submitted to the + judgment of the country. For ourselves, we cannot doubt for a + moment as to what the verdict will be. It is impossible that a + policy of empty promises, backed by mere misrepresentation, + should prevail against a glorious record of administrative, + legislative, and financial success. Careful calculations have + convinced us that those who now hold the reins of office will + return to power with a largely increased majority, to continue + their beneficent work. The country recognises by this time that + anything short of that would mean disaster to the commonwealth. + Even with a small majority, the forces of disorder would be + able to work untold mischief. Such a result, however, is not + within the bounds of possibility, seeing that the Election will + be fought purely and simply on the Irish question, which has + been placed fully before the electorate in all its bearings. + Our organisation is perfect, and our triumph assured.</p> + + <h4>No. II. (<i>Three Days Later</i>.)</h4> + + <p>We are constrained to admit that, so far, the result of the + Elections has not come up to the confident anticipations of our + Party. Seats have been lost that ought to have been retained. + On the other hand, we have failed to win seats that we had a + right to count upon as certainties. It is not easy to apportion + the responsibility for failure. Over-confidence and a + consequent want of energy may have had something to do with it; + but the chief reason is to be found in the disgracefully + defective organisation of the Party. The story is an old one. + We have ourselves deemed it our duty to lay this aspect of the + case before the Leaders of the Party, but our repeated warnings + have been unheeded, and the necessary consequences have + followed. Our opponents, however, have not much to congratulate + themselves upon. The Irish question has been kept studiously in + the back-ground, and the results, so far as they have gone, + only prove conclusively that there is no diminution whatever in + the dislike with which the majority of the electorate regard + the proposals of the party of disorder. We are far from saying + that even now we shall lose the Election. Everything may yet be + retrieved. But, even should the result be numerically + favourable to the Opposition, they will be powerless for + mischief with the small majority which is all they are likely + to get.</p> + + <h4>No. III. (<i>A Week Later</i>.)</h4> + + <p>The Elections are now nearing an end, and it is possible to + summarise the results. It is not surprising that our opponents + should be reduced to the lowest depths of despair. They counted + with the utmost certainty on a majority of two hundred. But, as + matters stand, it is out of the question that their + preponderance should exceed fifty. Where are now the confident + boastings with which they inaugurated the campaign? They have + confused the judgment of the electors with every kind of + side-issue. Misrepresentations have been sown broadcast, and + have, in too many instances, succeeded. But the great heart of + the country is still sound. Votes must be weighed as well as + counted, and it is safe to assume that, with a paltry and + heterogeneous majority of merely fifty, the advocates of + revolution will be reduced to impotence, even if they can + succeed in forming a Government at all. The result is one on + which our Party may well congratulate themselves. They have + worked hard, and the solid fruit of their efforts is now within + their reach. We may safely say that the Irish policy of our + opponents has received its death-blow.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page26" + id="page26"></a>[pg 26]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <h3>"THERE HE BLOWS!"</h3>(<i>The German Emperor has gone + Whaling in the North + Seas.</i>)<a href="images/26.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/26.png" + alt="'THERE HE BLOWS!'" /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"There he blows! There he goes!" Like a Titan in + throes,</p> + + <p>With his wallopping tail, and his wave-churning + nose,</p> + + <p class="i2">The spouting Cetacean Colossus!</p> + + <p>Eh? Harpoon that Monster! The thought makes one + pale,</p> + + <p>With one thundering thwack of that thumping big + tail,</p> + + <p class="i2">To the skies in small splinters he'd toss + us!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Rolling in foaming wild billows, ice-laden</p> + + <p>He goes, like the "boisterous sea" (<i>vide</i> + HADYN!)</p> + + <p class="i2">"Upheaved from the deep," swift, + tremendous,</p> + + <p>Leviathan sports on the far-foaming wave.</p> + + <p>If <i>he</i> runs athwart us, what power shall + save,</p> + + <p class="i2">From the doom to which promptly he'd send + us?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>His "soundings," or "diggings," are many and + deep;</p> + + <p>But would that his "three-hundred fathoms" he'd + keep,</p> + + <p class="i2">Below in the ocean's cold quiet.</p> + + <p>But no, not at all; he's not <i>that</i> sort of + whale!</p> + + <p>He must breathe, he must blow, he must roar, till + the gale</p> + + <p class="i2">Is charged with the sound of his + riot.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Leviathan loves the wild turmoil of strife,</p> + + <p>And lashing the billows to him is true life;</p> + + <p class="i2">Behold how he buffets and scourges + them!</p> + + <p>Chase him? The Captain (though also a Kaiser),</p> + + <p>Might think that his course to avoid him were + wiser,</p> + + <p class="i2">Until sheer necessity urges them.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And yet whales <i>are</i> beaten—by narwhals + and men,</p> + + <p>And other mere pigmies. 'Tis said, now and then,</p> + + <p class="i2">E'en sword-fish can compass their + ruin,</p> + + <p>By stabbing together—in <i>Cassius's</i> + way</p> + + <p>With <i>Cæsar</i>. Leviathan, dead, is a prey</p> + + <p class="i2">To dog-fish, and sea-birds, or Bruin.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There he blows! There he goes! Would an amateur + Whaler,</p> + + <p>Like WILHELM, that fine blend of Statesman and + Sailor,</p> + + <p class="i2">Incline to the chase and the capture</p> + + <p>Of such a huge, wandering, wallopping whale,</p> + + <p>To whom "Troubling the waters" with blow-holes and + tail</p> + + <p class="i2">Seems a source of such riotous + rapture?</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page27" + id="page27"></a>[pg 27]</span> + + <h2>DUST AND HASHES.</h2> + + <p>SIR,—When I first took my present house, I was advised + to get a Sanitary Dust-bin, instead of the old brick one which + existed in my back-yard. One of the blessings predicted for my + Sanitary Dust-bin, was, that it was "easily removable." I find + this to be the case. It has already been removed by some + area-sneak, and as I have got rid of the old brick dust-bin, + the Vestry threaten to prosecute me for creating a nuisance, + because my dust is now placed in a corner under my front steps. + What am I to do?</p> + + <p class="author">AGGRIEVED HOUSEHOLDER.</p> + + <p>SIR,—I find that the law recently passed against tips + to Dustmen is quite unknown—at all events, to the Dustmen + themselves. My servants, I find, go on freely bribing these + functionaries, to remove bones and vegetable refuse. Their rate + of tipping, as far as I can make out, is about a halfpenny per + bone. If I were now to enforce the law and forbid tips, I + foresee that the Dustcarts would have pressing business + elsewhere, and would visit me about once a month. Then would + follow a <i>régime</i> of "big, big, D.s"—in the + window—which would be intolerable. I prefer tipping to + typhoid.</p> + + <p class="author">Yours long sufferingly,<br /> + VICTIM OF THE VESTRIES.</p> + + <p>SIR,—The Vestry is <i>quite right</i> to insist on + every house burning up its own odds and ends. The <i>true</i> + domestic motto is—"Every kitchen its own crematorium." I + do this <i>habitually</i>, out of <i>public spirit</i>. It is + true that a sickening odour permeates the house for an hour or + two of every day, created by the combustion of dinner remnants; + also that most of my family suffer from bad sore throats, which + they attribute to this cause. What of that? The <i>truly good + Citizen</i> will prefer to poison himself rather than his + neighbours.</p> + + <p class="author">A CLERKENWELL CATO.</p> + + <p>SIR,—I recently purchased <i>Dodger's Digest of + Dustbin Law</i>, and recommend it to the perusal of every + householder. In the case of <i>The Vestry of Shoreditch</i> v. + <i>Grimes</i>, Lord Justice SLUSH remarks—"The Vestry + complains that the Defendant's bin was improperly covered; + that, in fact, it was not under coverture. To this the + Defendant replies that his bin was void <i>ab initio</i>, as + there was nothing in it. Then the question arises whether the + Defendant's Cook was justified in tipping the Dustman into the + empty bin, considering that the Legislature has distinctly + forbidden tips of all kinds to Dustmen. I am of opinion that + the Cook was the Defendant's agent, and that the rule of <i>qui + facit per alium facit per se</i> applies here. The Cook's + proceeding was undoubtedly tortious; it was not a criminal + action, though it certainly cannot be called a civil one. I + agree with my brother CHIPPY that the <i>ratio decidendi</i> + must be, whether the Dustman, in coming to clean out an empty + dust-bin, had a <i>malus animus</i> or no. On all these points + I hold that judgment must be for the Vestry." Your readers will + see the importance of such clear <i>obiter dicta</i>.</p> + + <p class="author">Yours,<br /> + AMATEUR LAWYER.</p> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/27-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/27-1.png" + alt="PROOF POSITIVE." /></a> + + <h3>PROOF POSITIVE.</h3> + + <p>"I CAN'T THINK HOW THAT IMPRESSION GOT ABOUT, LADY + GWENDOLINE. I SPEND HALF MY TIME IN CONTRADICTING IT. OUR + NEW MEMBER IS BY NO MEANS A SMALL MAN. I'VE BEEN ON THE + PLATFORM WITH HIM OFTEN, AND HE STANDS FULLY AS TALL AS I + DO!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN.</h2> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:12%;"> + <a href="images/27-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/27-2.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Soon on Piccadilly's pavement solitude once more + will reign;</p> + + <p>Soon the Park will be a desert, for the Season's on + the wane;</p> + + <p>In Belgravia's lordly mansions nearly all the blinds + are down,</p> + + <p>For "the Family is gone, Sir,"—not a soul is + left in Town.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>South to Switzerland they hurry, to explore each + snowy fell;</p> + + <p>North to Scotland's moors and forests, where the + grouse and red-deer dwell;</p> + + <p>Carlsbad, Homburg, Trouville, Norway, soon their + jaded eyes will view;</p> + + <p>For Society is speeding "to fresh woods and pastures + new."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Everyone is gone or going,—everyone, that is, + one knows,—</p> + + <p>And the "Great Elections'" Season fast is drawing to + its close.</p> + + <p>Never surely was a poorer; such dull dinners, so few + balls,</p> + + <p>Such an Epsom, such an Ascot, or so many empty + stalls.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Gone the Season, with its dances, with its concerts + and its <i>fêtes</i>,</p> + + <p>With its weddings and divorces, with its dinners and + debates;</p> + + <p>Gone are all its vapid pleasures, all its easy + charities,</p> + + <p>Gone its <i>causes célèbres</i> and scandals, gone + its tears and tragedies.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Weary legislators envy still more weary + <i>chaperōns</i>;—</p> + + <p>Much they know the truth who deem them of Society + the drones;—</p> + + <p>All the maidens are <i>ennuyées</i>, vow they "can't + do anymore,"</p> + + <p>All the gilded youth are yawning—everything's + a horrid bore.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Hearken then, ye youths and maidens, favoured + Children of the West,</p> + + <p>East and South and North are children, who are + hungering for rest.</p> + + <p>They have never seen the country, never heard the + streamlet flow:</p> + + <p>London pavements, London darkness, London + squalor,—these they know.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Not for them to range the moorland, or to climb the + mountain-side;</p> + + <p>They must linger on in London, till the grave their + sorrows hide.</p> + + <p>From year's end to dreary year's end they must pace + the noisy street.</p> + + <p>Do you hear the ceaseless echo of their weary, weary + feet?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Just one day without your wine, Sir! Madam, just one + ribbon less,</p> + + <p>And one wearied child in London from afar your name + will bless.</p> + + <p>Think, ere now you seek your boredom in fresh + pleasure-draughts to drown,</p> + + <p>Three or four benighted Millions still are left + behind in Town!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>GENERAL OPINION ON APPOINTMENT OF NEW CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD + OF INLAND REVENUE.—"MILNER's Safe."</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page28" + id="page28"></a>[pg 28]</span> + + <h2>CANVASSERS AND CANVASSED.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>An Electioneering Reminiscence.</i>)</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE—<i>A narrow South London Street of + two-storeyed houses, with a Rag-and-Bone Shop at one end + and a Public House at the other. Time, about four o'clock + on a warm Saturday afternoon. Enter</i> Mr. CARLTON-JERMYN, + <i>a middle-aged gentleman, in faultless get-up, who, in a + moment of weakness, has undertaken to canvass the district + for his friend, the Conservative Candidate.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> (<i>to himself, as he regards his + surroundings with dismay, and tries to arrange his + canvassing-cards</i>). I suppose this <i>is</i> Little Anna + Maria Street? I didn't understand at the Committee Rooms + that it was <i>quite</i> such a—however, I must do my + best for dear old TILNEY. Who's the first man I must see + and "use my best endeavours to persuade him into promising + his vote?" Ah, Mr. J. SPLURGE, No. 1. (<i>He picks his way + delicately along, attempting to make out the numbers on the + doors, which are all thrown back; female residents watch + him from doorsteps and windows with amused interest.</i>) + No. 5; No. 3; the next is No. 1. (<i>It is; but the + entrance is blocked by a small infant with a very dirty + face, who is slung in a baby-chair between the + door-posts.</i>) Very embarrassing, really! Can't ask such + a child as this if Mr. SPLURGE is at home! I'll knock. + (<i>Stretches for the knocker across the child, who, + misinterpreting his intentions, sets up a howl.</i>) My + good child, I assure you ... for Heaven's sake, don't!... + I—I wonder whether I ought to <i>kiss</i> + it—some fellows would!</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:45%;"> + <a href="images/28.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/28.png" + alt="'I wonder whether I ought to <i>kiss</i> it—some fellows would!'" /> + </a>"I wonder whether I ought to <i>kiss</i> + it—some fellows would!" + </div> + + <p><i>Female Voice</i> (<i>from side-window</i>). You leave + that pore child alone, will yer—or I'll come out and + <i>tork</i> to you, d'y'ear?</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> (<i>to himself</i>). That's <i>Mrs.</i> + SPLURGE! I think, perhaps, I'd better <i>not</i> wait. + (<i>With an inspiration.</i>) I'll leave a card. (<i>Drops + one of his visiting-cards in the child's lap—to its + exceeding terror—and retreats.</i>) I'm <i>afraid</i> + I haven't produced a very favourable impression, so far, + I'll try No. 2, across the street. (<i>He approaches a + doorstep upon which two stout and dishevelled Women are + seated.</i>) Er—I <i>beg</i> your pardon, but could + you kindly inform me if Mr.—er—(<i>consulting + card</i>)—GUFFIN is at home?</p> + + <p><i>First Woman</i> (<i>with sarcasm</i>). Now <i>do</i> + yer think he's nothink else to do but set indoors in a + arm-cheer all day?</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> I—I thought—I + hoped—that, it being Saturday, I might + be—er—fortunate enough—have I the + pleasure of addressing Mrs. GUFFIN?</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Both Women are convulsed with uncontrollable + mirth.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Second Woman</i> (<i>on recovering—calling down + the passage</i>). 'Ere, Mrs. GUFFIN, yer wanted. 'Ere's a + gentleman come to see yer!</p> + + <p><i>Mrs. Guffin</i> (<i>appearing from the basement, and + standing at the further end of the passage</i>). Well, what + does <i>he</i> want?</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> (<i>raising his hat, and sending his + voice down the passage to her</i>). I ventured to call, + Mrs. GUFFIN, in the hope of finding your husband at home, + and ascertaining his—er—political sympathies, + in view of the Election.</p> + + <p><i>Mrs. Guffin.</i> Oh, it's about the voting, is it? + Are you for a Conservatory?</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> For a—? Oh, to be sure, yes. I + came to ask Mr. GUFFIN to support Sir TILNEY BRUTON, the + Conservative Candidate. Perhaps if I called again, I + might—?</p> + + <p><i>Mrs. Guffin</i> (<i>in a matter-of-fact tone</i>). I + don't expect my 'usband 'ome till late, and then he'll be + drunk.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> Just so. But I trust, Mrs. GUFFIN, your + husband feels the importance of maintaining the + Union—?</p> + + <p><i>Mrs. Guffin.</i> He <i>did</i> belong, I know, but I + think his branch broke up, or somethink.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> (<i>puzzled</i>). Ah, but I mean + in—er—politics—I hope he is opposed to + granting Home Rule to Ireland?</p> + + <p><i>Mrs. G.</i> He don't tell <i>me</i> nothing about his + politics, but I've 'eard him say he was Radikil.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> (<i>diplomatically, as</i> Mrs. G. + <i>slowly edges towards the door</i>). Might I suggest, + Mrs. GUFFIN, that you should use + the—er—influence which every woman possesses, + to—er—induce your husband—(<i>here he + suddenly becomes aware that</i> Mrs. GUFFIN <i>has a very + pronounced black eye</i>); but perhaps I ought not to ask + you.</p> + + <p><i>Mrs. G.</i> Well, <i>my</i> opinion is—if you + want someone to tork over my 'usband to your side, you'd + better come and do it yourself; because <i>I</i> ain't + goin' to. So there! [<i>She retires to the basement + again.</i></p> + + <p><i>First Dish. W.</i> If you toffs can't do nothink + better than come 'ere makin' mischief between a man and his + wife, you'd better stop at 'ome, <i>that</i> you 'ad!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> (<i>to himself</i>). Upon my word, I + believe she's right! But I never noticed the poor woman's + eye before. I wish I could find one of the <i>men</i> in, + and have a talk with him—much more satisfactory! + (<i>Knocks at No. 4</i>) Is Mr. BULCHER at home?</p> + + <p><i>Mr. B.</i> (<i>lurching out of a room on the + ground-floor</i>). Qui' c'rect, Guv'nor—thash me!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> I wanted to see you, Mr. BULCHER, to + ask if we may count upon your support for the Conservative + Candidate at the Election. I need hardly point out to you + the—er—vital importance of—</p> + + <p><i>Mr. B.</i> (<i>slouching against the passage-wall, + opposite Mr. C.-J.</i>). 'Old on, Guv'nor, lemme ashk you + thish question, 'fore we go any furrer. Wharriwanter 'ear + from <i>you</i> is—'Ow 'm I goin' git little bit o' + good outer thesh 'lections for myshelf. You unnershtand me? + What good Conshervative gov'men' ever done er workin' + man—d' yer shee? Why, never—not in all their + born daysh! You take that shtraight from me.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> But surely—er—it was a + Conservative Government that gave you Free Education?</p> + + <p><i>Mr. B.</i> (<i>knowingly</i>). No, it washn't, + Guv'nor. There yer wrong, d'yer see? It wash er + <i>Radicals</i> give us Free Education. And whatsh Free + Education er me? Wouldn' say Thank yer f'rall Free + Education in er wide world!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> (<i>recognising that he must strike a + stronger chord</i>). Well, at all events you will admit + that, during the last six years, you have + been—er—peaceful and prosperous?</p> + + <p><i>Mr. B.</i> (<i>beerily</i>). I've been peashful and + proshperous ever sinsh I was born. No, look 'ere, Guv'nr, + I'm torken to you 'bout wharri <i>unnershtan'</i>, d'yer + see? Jes' you lishen er wharri'm goin tell you. (<i>Here he + punctuates his remarks by poking</i> Mr. C.-J.'s <i>ribs + with a clay pipe.</i>) Workin' man's gettin' more and more + 'telligent every day—he'sh qui' capable lookin' after + his own interests. What he wantch is, One Man One Vote, + Redooced Hours o' Labour, 'Ome Rule for London, an' the + Control of the Liquor Traffic! What did Misher GLADSHTONE + say? Educated and 'telligent clashes alwaysh + <i>wrong</i>—mashes always <i>ri'</i>! An' hain't + <i>I</i> 'telligent an' educated? Very <i>well</i>, then. + There you <i>'ave</i> it.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> But—er—don't you see, my + friend, that, according to Mr. GLADSTONE, the more + intelligent and educated you are, the more you're + wrong?</p> + + <p><i>Mr. B.</i> Nothing of—er—kind. Don' you + make any mishtake. <i>I</i> ain't wrong. I gommy + 'pinions—my p'litical 'pinions, and the prinshiples I + go 'pon are—Down with—er—Tories!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> In that case, Mr. BULCHER, I need not + occupy your time any longer, so I'll say—</p> + + <p><i>Mr. B.</i> (<i>buttonholing him</i>). Don' you go + 'way, Guv'nor, 'fore I've finished torkin. I've lishened + all <i>you</i> gorrer say—now itsh <i>my</i> turn + talk, and I tell <i>you</i> er Conshervative Gov'men ish a + downri'—&c., &c.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> (<i>escaping, after ten minutes' + incoherence</i>). I'm afraid he was not <i>quite</i> in a + condition to be argued with, but perhaps I shall do better + with Mr. MOLESKIN, next door. (<i>To a small boy in + passage.</i>) Mr. MOLESKIN in, my lad?</p> + + <p><i>The Boy.</i> Father—<i>e's</i> in. Go right up + the stairs, and you'll find 'im.</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[Mr. C.-J. <i>flounders up the narrow stairs, and is met + at the top by a very burly and surly mechanic.</i></p> + </blockquote><span class="pagenum"><a name="page29" + id="page29"></a>[pg 29]</span> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Mr. Moleskin</i>. Now, then, what do <i>you</i> want + 'ere? (Mr. C.-J. <i>explains his object, in some + confusion</i>.) Oh, that's it, is it? And what right ha' + you got comin' up my stairs as if they belonged to you? + Jest you tell me that!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> (<i>meekly</i>). I'm really very + sorry—but I was—er—<i>shown</i> up.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. M.</i> It's 'igh time you and the likes o' you + <i>were</i> shown up, in my opinion. 'Ow would you like to + 'ave me comin' bustin' up <i>your</i> stairs, eh?</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> (<i>thinking that he wouldn't like it + at all</i>). I assure you I quite feel that this is an + unwarrantable intrusion on my part—I must ask you to + accept my best apologies—but I should be very glad to + know that we might count on your—er—support at + such a national crisis.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. M.</i> I dessay yer would. But what I ask + <i>you</i> is—where does the secresy of the Ballot + come in, if I'm to tell you which way I'm goin' to give my + vote?</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> (<i>in distress</i>). Pray believe that + I should not dream of—er—forcing any confidence + from you, or dictating to you in any way! I + merely—</p> + + <p><i>Mr. M.</i> (<i>mollified</i>). Well, I don't mind + tellin' yer this much:—I've made up <i>my</i> mind + long ago, and, when the time comes, I shall vote to please + myself and nobody else; and that's as much as you've got + any right to know!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> (<i>with a feeling that he would give + much the same answer himself under similar + circumstances</i>). Then I'm afraid it would be of no use + if I said any more?</p> + + <p><i>Mr. M.</i> Not a bit o' use! [<i>He goes into his + room again.</i></p> + + <p><i>Mrs. Moleskin</i> (<i>coming out and addressing her + son from landing</i>). 'Ere, JIMMY, you come in orf o' that + doorstep, and don't you go showin' any <i>more</i> folks + up, or you don't know <i>oo'</i> you may let in next!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. C.-J.</i> (<i>sadly, to himself, as he + descends</i>). I'd no idea canvassing was such exhausting + work. I—I really think I've done enough for one + afternoon! [<i>Leaves Little Anna Maria Street—for + ever!</i></p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/29-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/29-1.png" + alt="'Bear with us!'" /></a>"Bear with us!" + </div> + + <p>"BEAR WITH US."—In the case reported in the papers + last week of "an infuriated bear shot at Croydon," Inspector + ORMONDE said that "when the ring had been removed from its lip, + the animal was so much relieved that it immediately turned a + somersault." A picture of this interesting incident should be + at once painted and hung up in the Divorce Court. The husband, + who has become quite a bear in consequence of his better half + having rendered herself quite unbearable, would naturally turn + head-over-heels with joy on getting quit of the ring. But alas! + mark the end of the poor bear. He got more and more excited; he + had to be looked up in a stable. Here the joy and novelty of + the situation overcame him; his mighty brain gave way; he + became mad as a hatter—(<i>Alice in Wonderland</i> might + have asked, "Then why didn't they send for a hatter, who would + have brought a chimney-pot, or some sort of a tile for his + bear-head?")—and subsequently the veterinary Mr. THRALE + (whose ancestral namesake had considerable experience in + dealing with that learned bear. Dr. JOHNSON) procured a gun, + and potted the bear. Awkward in his life, but grease-ful in his + death.</p> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/29-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/29-2.png" + alt="EDWARDO AND EDWINI." /></a> + + <h3>EDWARDO AND EDWINI.</h3> + + <p>A JAPANESE JAPE BY OUR EVER-ON-THE-SPOT ARTIST "LIKA + JOKO," REPRESENTING SIR EDWIN ARNOLD RECEIVING THE ORDER OF + "THE FIRST DESCRIPTIVE LEADER" FROM H.J.M., DALI TELLI, THE + MIKADO.</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS.</h2> + + <p class="author"><i>Mount Street, Grosvenor Square.</i></p> + + <p>DEAR MR. PUNCH,</p> + + <p>Anything more dreary than racing during this week's weather + at Newmarket can scarcely be imagined! I have often heard Lord + ARTHUR declare he was "as dry as a limekiln," and always + thought it an absurd expression; and now I <i>know</i> it + is!—for anything more <i>wet</i> than the Limekilns at + Newmarket this week I never saw!—it's a mystery to me how + the poor horses and men avoid catching cold, cantering about + there without galoshes—though, by the way, Mr. HAMMOND + had <i>one</i> "<i>Galoche</i>" which, of course, was not much + use!</p> + + <p>Owing to the smallness (that's a good word) of the + attendance, we were "pinched" a little in the prices, and of + course the pinch came where one least expected it, which was + somewhat disconcerting—but as most of the "good things" + came off all right—(especially those we took with us from + BENOIST and FORTNUM's)—it did not matter so much. Ladies + of course were chiefly conspicuous by their absence, but my + sweet friend Lady NEWMAN GATESHEAD was quite the <i>Belle</i> + of the gathering, and attracted nearly as much attention as the + <i>Queen of Navarre</i>, who naturally won her race in royal + style!</p> + + <p>My selection for the Chesterfield Stakes, <i>Meddler</i>, + was successful after a short struggle with the Duke of + PORTLAND's <i>Kilmarnock</i> to whom he had to give five pounds + (I hope this does not mean that the noble owner is in want of + money!); but I am told the latter was not "fit" and "will do + better with time!" though I don't quite see how that can be, as + surely "time" travels faster than <i>Meddler</i>, so that, + unless they take time with him, the handicap will be difficult + to frame! By the way, when the handicaps <i>are</i> framed, + where do they hang them up? and is it one of the "perks" of the + Handicapper to supply the frames?</p> + + <p>Those who waited in the rain for the last race on Wednesday + were rewarded with a splendid exhibition of horsemanship, given + by WEBB on <i>St. Angelo</i>; who appears to be somewhat of a + "handful" (<i>St. Angelo</i> I mean, not WEBB, who is very + slight), and evinces a strong desire to run in any direction + but the one desired of him! I think Mr. MILNER should have him + trained on a zigzag method, when his natural wilfulness would + cause him to run straight when racing! This is an excellent + idea, and I have others equally good (applicable to all styles + of horses), which I intend to suggest to different trainers on + my next visit to Newmarket!</p> + + <p>We were all relieved when the "curtain rang down" on + Thursday—(this is not, at first sight, a racing + expression, but is largely used by sporting writers, as + demonstrating the diversified nature of their knowledge!), in + time for us to catch the early special for Liverpool Street; + which, special, might really, from the major portion of its + patrons, have been thought to be starting for Jerusalem!</p> + + <p>Friday was a glorious day for the Eclipse, which was only + visible from the Observatory at Esher—the best account + appears to have been given by Professor <i>Orme</i>, who + recovered from his recent severe illness just in time to be + present.</p> + + <p>Just a word in conclusion on the big race of next + week—a paradox—be "wide awake" and go "nap" on my + tip, from information privately given to</p> + + <p class="author">Yours devotedly,<br /> + LADY GAY.</p> + + <h3 class="sc">Liverpool Cup Selection.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Some owners win, although their gee</p> + + <p>In temper be a "villen;"</p> + + <p>As that is not the sort for me,</p> + + <p>I favour "<i>Enniskillen</i>."</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page30" + id="page30"></a>[pg 30]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/30.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/30.png" + alt="EN PASSANT." /></a> + + <h3>EN PASSANT.</h3> + + <p><i>He</i>. "THAT'S THAT ASS, BOUNDERSON, ISN'T IT? HE + SHOULD HAVE BEEN DROWNED AS A <i>PUPPY</i>!"</p> + + <p><i>She</i>. "THERE'S TIME ENOUGH <i>YET</i>, ISN'T + THERE?"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE POLITICAL JOHNNY GILPIN.</h2> + + <h3>THE FINISH.</h3> + + <center> + (<i>Further-discovered Fragments of the Grand Old Ballad, + giving the Sequel of the strange story begun in "Punch," + No. 2660, July 2, p. 318.</i>) + </center> + <hr class="short" /> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So fair and softly! JOHNNY cried,</p> + + <p>But JOHNNY cried in vain;</p> + + <p>That trot became a gallop soon,</p> + + <p>In spite of curb and rein.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So, stooping down, as needs he must</p> + + <p>Who cannot sit upright,</p> + + <p>He grasped the mane with both his hands,</p> + + <p>And eke with all his might.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <hr class="short" /> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Away went GILPIN neck or nought,</p> + + <p>Away went hat and wig;</p> + + <p>He little dreamt when he set out</p> + + <p>Of running such a rig.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The wind did blow, the cloak did fly</p> + + <p>Like streamer long and gay,</p> + + <p>Till people thought, and JOHN half feared,</p> + + <p>That it might fly away.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then might all gazers well discern</p> + + <p>The bottles he had slung;</p> + + <p>A bottle swinging at each side,</p> + + <p>As hath been said or sung.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Away went GILPIN—who but he?</p> + + <p>His fame soon spread around;</p> + + <p>"He carries weight! He rides a race!"</p> + + <p>"He'll win it, we'll be bound!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <hr class="short" /> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then all through merry London Town,</p> + + <p>These gambols he did play;</p> + + <p>Until he came to rural parts,</p> + + <p>Where rustics lined the way.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There labourers shouted, women screamed,</p> + + <p>Up flew the felt-hats all;</p> + + <p>And every yokel yelled, "Well done!"</p> + + <p>As loud as he could bawl.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <hr class="short" /> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Away went GILPIN, out of breath,</p> + + <p>And fearing much a "spill;"</p> + + <p>But knowing till his race was run</p> + + <p>His horse would not stand still.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>His hat was gone, his W(h)ig also,</p> + + <p>His cloak he had to clutch.</p> + + <p>Could he hold on? A mile or two</p> + + <p>Would put it to the touch.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>A church-bell clanging, scared his steed,</p> + + <p>Pigs dashed betwixt its feet;</p> + + <p>And on his own beloved North Road,</p> + + <p>JOHN <i>almost</i> lost his seat.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>On the North Road, his sometime friends,</p> + + <p>Their sometime favourite spied,</p> + + <p>Well-nigh dismounted, wondering much,</p> + + <p>To see how he did ride.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Ride straight, JOHN GILPIN—for the + House!"</p> + + <p>JOHN's Liberal Dame did cry.</p> + + <p>"The Party waits, and we feel tired."</p> + + <p>Said GILPIN—"So do I!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But yet his horse was not a whit</p> + + <p>Inclined due North to stay;</p> + + <p>For why?—his stables at the House</p> + + <p>Were out Westminster way.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So like an arrow swift he flew</p> + + <p>Back southward through the throng,</p> + + <p>Who shouted loud, "He yet will win!</p> + + <p>JOHN GILPIN's going strong!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <hr class="short" /> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And now Town's traffic once again</p> + + <p>For horse and man made space,</p> + + <p>The drivers thinking, as before,</p> + + <p>That GILPIN rode a race.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And so he did—and won it, too,</p> + + <p>For he got first to Town;</p> + + <p>And, stiff and sore, at the House door,</p> + + <p>Bare winner, he got down.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Now let us sing, Long live the QUEEN,</p> + + <p>And GILPIN, long live he!</p> + + <p>And when he next doth ride due North,</p> + + <p>May we be there to see!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>A GOOD STAYER.—From the <i>Times</i> of Tuesday, the + 12th, we cull this:—</p> + + <blockquote> + <p><big>I</big>N ANY CAPACITY of TRUST.—Seven years + in first-class Turkish Bath. Patience and perseverance. + Good invalid attendant. Active and attentive.</p> + </blockquote> + + <p>"Seven years in a Turkish Bath!" As Mr. WILSON BARRETT would + exclaim, "How long! How long!" What better example of patience + and perseverance, which, as all know, are "good for the gout," + could possibly be given? That after this long stay in the + Turkish Bath, he should be "a good invalid attendant," goes + without saying. And not only is he "attentive," which is a + great point in an "attendant," but he is also active—and + this after so long a stay in a Turkish Bath, of which, however, + he does not mention the temperature.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page31" + id="page31"></a>[pg 31]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/31.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/31.png" + alt="THE POLITICAL JOHNNY GILPIN." /></a> + + <h3>THE POLITICAL JOHNNY GILPIN.</h3> + + <h4>(<i>THE FINISH</i>.)</h4> + + <p>"SO LIKE AN ARROW SWIFT HE FLEW BACK SOUTHWARD THROUGH + THE THRONG, WHO SHOUTED LOUD, 'HE YET WILL WIN! JOHN + GILPIN'S GOING STRONG!'</p> + + <p>"AND SO HE DID—AND WON IT, TOO, FOR HE GOT FIRST + TO TOWN; AND, STIFF AND SORE, AT THE HOUSE DOOR, BARE + WINNER, HE GOT DOWN."</p> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page33" + id="page33"></a>[pg 33]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:75%;"> + <a href="images/33.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/33.png" + alt="'COLOURABLE SHAKSPEARIAN IMITATION.'" /></a> + + <h3>"COLOURABLE SHAKSPEARIAN IMITATION."</h3> + + <p><i>Othello, M.P. for Central Finsbury</i> (<i>saluting + Sarum, Doge of Westminster</i>). "HAPLY THAT I AM + BLACK—" [<i>Doge shudders, but feels unable to + withdraw.</i></p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>OPERATIC NOTES.</h3> + + <p><i>Wednesday</i>.—Crowded for WAGNER's + <i>Götterdämmerung</i>, "which," says the <i>Rev. Mr. + Penley</i>, who "doesn't like London," "is such an awful name, + that fond as I am of music, I really could not go and see it." + As to WAGNER, well, "it's all right when you know him, but + you've got to know him fust."</p> + + <p>Herr ALVARY excellent as <i>Siegfried</i>; Herr WIEGAND + powerful; ditto the wide-awake Herr KNAPP. Frau KLAFSKY, a + beautiful and interesting <i>Brünnhilde</i>; and it is + difficult to be personally interesting in a Wagnerian Opera, + where <i>ensemble</i> is everything. Fräulein HEINE and + BETTAQUE, equally good.</p> + + <p>Herr MAHLER was "called," with the rest of the company, to + receive his meed of praise for conducting. Opera perfectly put + on Stage by Herr von DRURIOLANUS, and though the Season is + coming to an end, yet the Opera is still "going strong."</p> + <hr /> + + <p>NOTE AND QUERY BY MRS. R.—Our old friend wants to know + from what Poet comes this quotation—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"A needless Salamander ends the line."</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>Mrs. R. thinks it's from POPE; but if so, she asks what + Pope? as there are so many of 'em.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>ORNAMENTAL STRUCTURE IN NEW NORFOLK.—A Triumphal + ARCH.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>STUDIES IN THE NEW POETRY.</h2> + + <h3>No. IV.</h3> + + <p>In offering this fourth example of the New Poetry to his + readers, <i>Mr. Punch</i> wishes it to be distinctly + understood, that he is in no way responsible, personally, for + the curious mixture of divinities and semi-divinities who + figure in it. It is one of the distinguishing marks of this + particular sort of New Poetry to pile up a confusion of more or + less mythological names in a series of swinging and resonant + lines. In one line the reader may imagine himself to be + embarked in the River Cocytus. In the next, he will be + surprised to find himself in Eden. Blood, battle, + bumptiousness, and an aggressive violence, are special + characteristics of this style of writing. Some of the lines + apparently mean nothing at all, others are calculated to make + timid people tremble; and the effect of the whole is generally + picturesque, lurid, and uncomfortable.</p> + + <p>One of the great advantages of a poem like this, is that it + may be used for all kinds of purposes. For example, if it was + originally written as an invective against an opponent, it may + afterwards, with the utmost ease, be made to serve as a + threnody. Here then without further preface is:—</p> + + <h3>THE SUNDERED FLEA.</h3> + + <h4 class="sc">BY Mr. R*dy*rd K*pl*ng.</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Out on the path of the blazing ball that has hurtled + a million years,</p> + + <p>Where the uttermost light glows red by night in the + clash of the angry spheres,</p> + + <p>Where never a tear-drop dims the eye, and sorrows + are stifled young,</p> + + <p>And the Anglo-Indians snigger and sneer with the + jest of a bitter tongue.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Where the tribesmen mock at the Bengalee and shiver + their spears in vain,</p> + + <p>And officers steep their souls chin-deep in brandy + and dry champagne;</p> + + <p>Where the Rudyard river runs, flecked with foam, far + forth to the Kipling seas,</p> + + <p>And the maker of man takes walks abroad with Pagan + deities.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Where AZRAEL talks to the Graces Three, and the + Muses Nine stand by,</p> + + <p>And ask Greek riddles of BUDDHA, who never makes + reply.</p> + + <p>(Gentlemen all and ladies too as smart as a + brand-new pin),</p> + + <p>And nobody wonders how on earth so mixed a lot got + in—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Here in the track of a thunderbolt from the + nethernmost smithy hurled,</p> + + <p>With the groan of an ancient passion rent from the + wreck of a shattered world,</p> + + <p>In the white-hot pincers of BAAL borne through + cycles of agony,</p> + + <p>Lit by the Pit's red wrath there came the Soul of a + Sundered Flea.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And all that company started back; first AZRAEL + grimly smiled,</p> + + <p>The smile that an East-End Coster smiles, by a stout + policeman riled;</p> + + <p>And BUDDHA made no remark at all, but nodded his + heavy head,</p> + + <p>Like a boy who has eaten too much dessert, and wants + to be put to bed.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And the Muses Nine, as they stood in line, they + shuddered and turned to go.</p> + + <p>"A joke's a joke, but I can't bear fleas," said CLIO + to ERATO.</p> + + <p>And the Graces, the good Conservative Three, shrank + back to a spot remote,</p> + + <p>And observed that they knew that this would come + from letting the Masses vote.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then AZRAEL spake—"On the Stygian lake I + floated a half-sinned sin</p> + + <p>On the crest of a cross-grained stickleback, that is + caught with a crooked pin;</p> + + <p>For a year and a day I watched it whirl, but never + that sin could be</p> + + <p>One-half so base as your gruesome face, O Soul of a + Sundered Flea!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"What ill have ye done? Speak up, speak + up!—for this is no place, I trow,</p> + + <p>For the puling people on virtue fed. So speak, or + prepare to go."</p> + + <p>But the Flea flew free from the pincers' grip, and + uttered a single phrase—</p> + + <p>"I have lived on blood, as a gentleman should, and + that is my claim to praise."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then a shout of joy from the throng went forth; they + built him a crystal throne,</p> + + <p>And there in his pride, with none beside, he rules + and he reigns alone.</p> + + <p>And this is the tale which I here set down, as the + story was told to me—</p> + + <p>In excellent Rudyard-Kipling verse—the tale of + the Sundered Flea.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>ANTICIPATORY NEWS (<i>from Our Own Court Tripping + Newsman</i>).—Sir ALGERNON BORTHWICK, Bart, M.P., will be + raised to the Peerage with the title of Lord MORNINGPOST, of + Penniwise, Seefarshire, N.B.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>An Anti-lawn-tennis Lady considers that the argument against + Croquet, as a game involving a bent back, and a narrowing of + the chest, is merely "A very stoopit objection."</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page34" + id="page34"></a>[pg 34]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/34.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/34.png" + alt="GUSHING HOSPITALITY. (Time 3 p.m.)" /></a> + + <h3>GUSHING HOSPITALITY. (Time 3 p.m.)</h3> + + <p><i>Hospitable Host</i>. "HAVE C'GAR, OLD F'LLA?"</p> + + <p><i>Languid Visitor</i>. "NO—THANKS!"</p> + + <p><i>H.H.</i> "CIGARETTE THEN?"</p> + + <p><i>His Visitor</i>. "NO—THANKS. NEVAR SMOKE + 'MEJATELY AFTER BREAKFAST."</p> + + <p><i>H.H.</i> "CAN'T REFUSE A TOOTHPICK, THEN, OLD + F'LLA?"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + + <p><i>The Royal Agricultural Society's Journal</i>. A Society + Journal of a peculiar character, of which this is the Third + Series and Third Volume. It is noticeable for Lord CATHCART's + appeal for the wild birds, which, as addressed to farmers and + farm-labourers and armed ploughboys, may be summed up by an + adaptation of the refrain of the remonstrance—so + frequently urged by one of Lieutenant COLE's funny + figures—"Can't you let the birds alone?" Then Mr. HASTING + "On Vermin," which doesn't sound nice, though better than if + the title were <i>vice versâ</i>,—is most interesting, + especially where he tells us that "shrews are harmless." If so, + why did SHAKSPEARE give us "<i>The Taming of the Shrew</i>" as + such a feat? Professor BROWN writes about disease in sheep, of + which paper Lord ARTHUR WEEDON DE GROSSMITH would be absolutely + correct in observing, "What rot!" And, by the way, <i>à + propos</i> of WEEDON, the Baron has to congratulate the + Brothers GROSSMITH on their <i>Diary of a Nobody</i>, + republished from <i>Mr. Punch's</i> pages, but with + considerable additions. The Diary is very funny, not a page of + it but affords matter for a good laugh; and yet the story is + not without a touch of pathos, as it is impossible not to pity + the steady, prim, old-fashioned jog-trot NOBODY, whose son, but + just one remove above a regular 'ARRY, treats him with such + unfilial rudeness.</p> + + <p>It has been complained that the late General Election has + not been amusing, and has given birth to little fun. Let those + who feel this most acutely read Mr. R.C. LEHMANN's <i>The + "Billsbury Election (Leaves from the Diary of a + Candidate)."</i> He will tell you how Mr. RICHARD B. PATTLE + contested Billsbury in the Constitutional Interest; how he + "buttered up Billsbury like fun," was badgered by Billsbury, + heckled by Billsbury, taxed, tithed and tormented by Billsbury, + and eventually "chucked" by Billsbury, by the aggravatingly + small majority of seventeen. Also how his "Mother bore up like + a Trojan, and said she was prouder of me than ever." Just + so.</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I hold it true whate'er befall,</p> + + <p>I wrote so, to the <i>Morning Post</i>;</p> + + <p>'Tis better to have "run" and lost,</p> + + <p>Than never to have run at all.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>"Modern Types" and "Among the Amateurs" are well known to + the readers of <i>Punch</i>. But lovers of C.S. + CALVERLEY—that is to say, all but a very few + ill-conditioned critical creatures—and of neat verse with + a sting to it, should turn to p. 203 (A.C.S. <i>v</i>. C.S.C.), + and read and enjoy the smart slating Mr. LEHMANN administers to + tumid, tumultuous, thrasonic, turncoatist ALGERNON CHARLES + SWINBURNE, for saying of the brilliant and well-beloved Author + of <i>Fly Leaves</i>, &c., that he—forsooth!—is + "monstrously overrated and preposterously overpraised"!!!</p> + + <p class="author">BARON DE B.-W. & Co.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>WANTED IN THE LAW COURTS.</h2> + + <p>A Junior who will wear his gown straight, and not pretend + that intense preoccupation over dummy briefs prevents him from + knowing that it is off one shoulder.</p> + + <p>A Judge who can resist the temptation to utter feeble + witticisms, and to fall asleep.</p> + + <p>A Witness who answers questions, and incidentally tells the + truth.</p> + + <p>A Jury who do not look supremely silly, and ridiculously + self-conscious, when directly addressed or appealed to by + Counsel; or one that really understands that the Judge's + politeness is only another and subtle form of + self-glorification.</p> + + <p>A Q.C. who is not "eminent," who does not behave "nobly," + and who can avoid the formula "I suggest to you," in + cross-examination; or one that does not thunder from a lofty + and inaccessible moral altitude so soon as a nervous Witness + blunders or contradicts himself.</p> + + <p>An Usher who does not try to induce the general public, + especially the female portion thereof, to mistake him for the + Lord Chancellor.</p> + + <p>A Solicitor who does not strive to appear <i>coram + populo</i> on terms of quite unnecessarily familiar intercourse + with his leading Counsel.</p> + + <p>An Articled Clerk who does not dress beyond his thirty + shillings a-week, and think that the whole Court is lost in + speculation as to the identity of that distinguished-looking + young man.</p> + + <p>An Associate who does not go into ecstasies of merriment + over every joke or <i>obiter dictum</i> from the Bench.</p> + + <p>Anybody who does not give loud expression to the opinion at + the nearest bar when the Court rises, that he could have + managed the case for either or both sides infinitely better + than the Counsel engaged.</p> + + <p>A Court-house whose atmosphere is pleasant and invigorating + after the Court has sat for fifteen minutes.</p> + + <p>(Anyone concerned who, on reading these remarks in print, + will think that the cap can, by any <i>scintilla</i> of + possibility, fit himself.)</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page35" + id="page35"></a>[pg 35]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/35.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/35.png" + alt="BUFFALO WILLIAM'S GREAT WILD N.S.E. & W. SHOW. THE LATEST 'UNSEATING ACT.'" /> + </a> + + <h3>BUFFALO WILLIAM'S GREAT WILD N.S.E. & W. SHOW. THE + LATEST "UNSEATING ACT."</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page36" + id="page36"></a>[pg 36]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/36.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/36.png" + alt="PORTRAIT OF A LABOUR CANDIDATE." /></a> + + <h3>PORTRAIT OF A LABOUR CANDIDATE.</h3> + + <p>WARRANTED TO "SWEEP THE COUNTRY," AND MAKE HIS MARK IN + THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. (NATURALLY A FLUE-NT SPEAKER)!</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>JUSTICE FOR 'FRISCO.</h2> + + <p>DEAR MR. PUNCH,—I notice that a complaint has been + made that those charming stories of wild life in the Far West, + are out of date. Nay, more, that they are calculated to do a + great deal of harm to a considerable amount of valuable + property. On the other hand, the talented authors of the + picturesque romances to which I have referred, insist that + there is a great demand for these literary wares, and they + would suffer much loss if they were to discontinue their + production.</p> + + <p>Could not the matter be compromised? We are less sensitive + than our American cousins, and if the scene were changed from + St. Francisco to some quiet watering-place on the Kentish + Coast, our kindred beyond the seas ought to be satisfied. I do + not pretend to be a master of the style of those who write + Backwood sensations, but I think I can jot down a few lines to + show what I mean. Beneath I give a specimen of the sort of + thing that might take the place of stories revelling in such + titles as the "<i>Luck of Murder Camp</i>," "<i>Slack Bill's + Banker</i>," and "<i>The Talk of Stab-in-the-Backman's + Chasm</i>."</p> + + <h3>THE CHAFF OF HERNE BAY CREEK.</h3> + + <h4>CHAPTER XX.—<i>Charley Meets a Chum</i>.</h4> + + <p>The Miners who had been digging all day long the rough + shingle for treasure-trove, had retired to their rudely + constructed cabins. These rough huts were built of wood, and + furnished with a seat on either side. There were two small + windows let into the oaken walls—each of them not more + than six inches square. They were absolutely free from + furniture—save perhaps, a foot of cheap looking-glass, + and here and there a wooden-peg used by the Miners for hanging + up their slouch-hats, their red flannel-shirts, and their long + leather-boots.</p> + + <p>These huts were not unlike the other habitations in the wild + Far West, save that they had this peculiarity—each hut + was mounted on a huge springless framework, supported by four + lumbering wooden wheels. By this arrangement the hut could be + moved from place to place, sometimes to the fields, with their + mines of undiscovered treasure; sometimes to the sea, burdened + with legacies of the mighty deep.</p> + + <p>CHARLEY was smoking a pipe, and thinking of that fair home + in San Francisco, the very centre of civilisation, where the + hotels were admirable, the stores well stocked, and house + property at a premium.</p> + + <p>"I did not discover a single ruby yesterday," he murmured, + and then he looked at the wooden spade of a child—"I + found only there a young 'un's toy. But it has softened my + heart, and taught me that human nature is human nature."</p> + + <p>He paused to wipe away with a sunburnt hand a furtive + tear.</p> + + <p>"CHARLEY, my lad," he exclaimed, "this is unmanly. What + would DARE DEATH DICK or THUNDER TIM say to such a show of + water?"</p> + + <p>He took the spade, and was about to throw it with violence + to the ground, when his better nature triumphed, and he placed + it, almost with reverence, on the bench beside him.</p> + + <p>He was disturbed by a tap on the outer door—the door + that faced the sea.</p> + + <p>"Who's there?" he shouted, as he held in one hand a + revolver, and in the other a bowie-knife of the usual + fashion.</p> + + <p>"Are you ready?"</p> + + <p>It was a gruff voice, and yet there was something feminine + about it. CHARLEY had never feared to meet a woman yet, and he + did not now shrink from the encounter. However his training had + made him cautious. It might be a trap of the bloodthirsty + Indians—those Children of Nature who were known to + indulge in any cruel subterfuge to secure the white men as + their prey.</p> + + <p>"Are you ready?" was repeated in the same gruff voice, but + now the tone was one of entreaty. The speaker seemed to be + imploring for a reply.</p> + + <p>CHARLEY hesitated no longer. He put down the bowie-knife, + and still holding the revolver, opened the door.</p> + + <p>He started back! Yes, it was a woman who confronted him. But + such a woman! Her face was weather-beaten and sunburnt. Her + hair was grey, and there were pieces of sea-weed in the + shapeless mass that once may have been called a bonnet. She was + wearing a heavy serge dress that was dripping with the sea. On + her huge feet were old boots sodden with sand and wet. She + might have been of any age, from fifty upwards.</p> + + <p>She gazed at CHARLEY with an uncanny smile, and extended her + arms towards him. Then she spoke in the same gruff tone,</p> + + <p>"Come to your MARTHA!"</p> + + <p>And CHARLEY knew he had met a chum!</p> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p>There, something like the above might do. The woods in the + neighbourhood of Herne Bay are just the places for adventure, + and, with thought, a good deal might be managed with the + Reculvers.</p> + + <p>And now, <i>Mr. Punch</i>, I have done.</p> + + <p class="author">Yours respectfully,<br /> + A WILD WELSH RAREBIT.</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>COMMERCE À L'AMÉRICAINE.</h3> + + <h4>(<i>Page from a Diary on the Point of being + Written</i>.)</h4> + + <p><i>Monday</i>.—Miners of the Great Hagglenaggle Fields + ask for increase of wages, emphasising their demand by firing + off revolvers and brandishing bowie-knives.</p> + + <p><i>Tuesday</i>.—Masters of the Great Hagglenaggle + Fields refuse to treat with Miners, and entrench themselves + behind ironclad back gardens. They also send for a force of + PATTERSON's Mercenary Chuckers-out. Fighting imminent.</p> + + <p><i>Wednesday</i>.—Appearance of PATTERSON's Mercenary + Chuckers out. They are met by Miners with discharges of + Gattling guns and land torpedoes.</p> + + <p><i>Thursday</i>.—The two armies face to face. Both + sides fire away, using up all their ammunition. End of the + day's contest, no balance on either side. Great success of the + new General Interment Company. Shares at thirty premium.</p> + + <p><i>Friday</i>.—Reinforcements for both sides. A + general engagement considered imminent. In the meanwhile, + <i>pour passer le temps</i>, skirmishes and slaughter of + thousands.</p> + + <p><i>Saturday</i>.—First-class, regular all-round + battle. A large force arrived to fight the Miners, Gatlings and + Krupps blaze away without intermission. Losses on both sides + pretty considerable.</p> + + <p><i>Sunday</i>.—Conversion of the Great Hagglenaggle + Fields into a cemetery. Great rise in shares on allotment. Ten + acres of booking in advance!</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>LAYS OF MODERN HOME.</h2> + + <h3>No. III.—OFF FOR MY HOLIDAY.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Yes! I'm off for my holiday. Forty odd pieces</p> + + <p class="i2">Of luggage, three cabs, and a van, and a + 'bus too.</p> + + <p>Without counting loose wraps, and umbrellas in + creases,</p> + + <p class="i2">And sweets that my darlings are sucking + with gusto.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Yes! I'm off for my holiday—wife in + hysterics,</p> + + <p class="i2">Since nowhere on earth can her poodle be + found;</p> + + <p>And the nurses and children—ANNES, LILIANS, + ERICS—</p> + + <p class="i2">All screaming, and fussing, and fuming + around!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Yes! I'm off for my holiday—Tyneside, or + Deeside,</p> + + <p class="i2">Or Lakes, or that Switzerland English, + Hind Head,</p> + + <p>Or the thousand monotonies known as "The + Seaside"—</p> + + <p class="i2">Ask not whither my fugitive footsteps are + led.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>For whatever the place, it is ever the same + thing;</p> + + <p class="i2">Poor Paterfamilias always must + suffer.</p> + + <p>A dyspeptic, a costly, a lame and a tame thing</p> + + <p class="i2">Is Holiday-time for a family buffer.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Yes! I'm off for my holiday—where I won't + mention;</p> + + <p class="i2">They are pulling the blinds of my + drawing-room down:</p> + + <p>But next year—if I live—it's my solemn + intention</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>To stay, upon business, en garçon, in + Town</i>.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>FAIR PROSPECTS OF FINE WEATHER.—No rain on St. + Swithin's, and last week the County of Inverness discarded its + MACKINTOSH.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, + whether MS., Printed 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.</p> + <hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. +103, July 23, 1892, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 14965-h.htm or 14965-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/9/6/14965/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, 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. 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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. 103, July 23, 1892 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 7, 2005 [EBook #14965] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +PUNCH, + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 103. + + + +July 23, 1892. + + + + +[Illustration: TOO CLEVER BY HALF. + +"AND WHERE DID YOU LEARN TO SPEAK ENGLISH SO WELL?" + +"FROM LADY JENKINSON'S CHILDREN, MADAME. I CAME OVER FROM SWITZERLAND +TO TEACH THEM FRENCH AND GERMAN!" + +"AND _DID_ THEY LEARN FRENCH AND GERMAN?" + +"NO, MADAME, NOT A WORD!"] + + * * * * * + +TO A SUMMER FLOWER. + + Oh, lovely flower sent from afar, + Like sunlight to this world of ours, + What art thou but a golden star, + A priceless gem amongst the flowers? + + Alas, all earthly things must die, + Thou, too, fair yellow flower must fade, + Thou wilt not charm an Artist's eye, + Upon the breast of some fair maid! + + Ah, no, thine is a nobler fate, + Unlike the lily or the rose, + Thou passest to a higher state + When in sad death thy petals close: + + For then thine outward form, grown pale + Is changed to what, at first scarce seen, + Is still thyself, so fair, so frail, + A little fruit of tender green! + + When quite matured, how very choice + Thy juicy flavour; who can then + Sing all thy worth with mortal voice, + Or write thy praise with mortal pen. + + There, take it gently from the ground, + O costermonger, to thy barrow, + And shout, with loud discordant sound, + The praise of Vegetable Marrow! + + * * * * * + +ROE, BLOATER'S-ROE. + + Faintly it wakes at the even chime, + The appetite long past its prime. + The supper-room at the Club looks dim. + What shall I "peck" for an epicure's whim? + Roe, Bloater's Roe! That's the brief repast + To tickle the palate, to break the fast! + + They may prate of the pleasures of "early purl," + Of the frizzled rasher's seductive curl, + But, when I fear I can munch no more, + When the thought of banquets becomes a bore, + Roe, Bloater's Roe, upon toast they cast, + And nausea's fled, and repletion's past! + + Yes Bloater's Roe--upon toast. Ah, boon! + That stayeth satiety, late or soon. + Best of _bonnes bouches_, that all seasons fits! + The tenderest tickler of all tit-bits! + Roe, Bloater's Roe! O _chef_, grill fast, + And prepare my palate its pet repast! + + * * * * * + +ONE FORM OF A "SHELLEY MEMORIAL."--Awful indigestion the morning after +a Lobster Supper. + + * * * * * + +FROM DAY TO DAY. + +(_A STUDY IN POLITICAL JOURNALISM, FROM SOME OF THE MORNING PAPERS._) + +NO. I. + +To-day, the first pollings of the General Election take place, and +the electors will be called upon to decide one of the most momentous +issues that have ever been submitted to the judgment of the country. +For ourselves, we cannot doubt for a moment as to what the verdict +will be. It is impossible that a policy of empty promises, backed +by mere misrepresentation, should prevail against a glorious record +of administrative, legislative, and financial success. Careful +calculations have convinced us that those who now hold the reins of +office will return to power with a largely increased majority, to +continue their beneficent work. The country recognises by this time +that anything short of that would mean disaster to the commonwealth. +Even with a small majority, the forces of disorder would be able to +work untold mischief. Such a result, however, is not within the bounds +of possibility, seeing that the Election will be fought purely and +simply on the Irish question, which has been placed fully before the +electorate in all its bearings. Our organisation is perfect, and our +triumph assured. + +NO. II. (_THREE DAYS LATER_.) + +We are constrained to admit that, so far, the result of the Elections +has not come up to the confident anticipations of our Party. Seats +have been lost that ought to have been retained. On the other hand, +we have failed to win seats that we had a right to count upon as +certainties. It is not easy to apportion the responsibility for +failure. Over-confidence and a consequent want of energy may have had +something to do with it; but the chief reason is to be found in the +disgracefully defective organisation of the Party. The story is an old +one. We have ourselves deemed it our duty to lay this aspect of the +case before the Leaders of the Party, but our repeated warnings have +been unheeded, and the necessary consequences have followed. Our +opponents, however, have not much to congratulate themselves upon. The +Irish question has been kept studiously in the back-ground, and the +results, so far as they have gone, only prove conclusively that there +is no diminution whatever in the dislike with which the majority of +the electorate regard the proposals of the party of disorder. We are +far from saying that even now we shall lose the Election. Everything +may yet be retrieved. But, even should the result be numerically +favourable to the Opposition, they will be powerless for mischief with +the small majority which is all they are likely to get. + +NO. III. (_A WEEK LATER_.) + +The Elections are now nearing an end, and it is possible to summarise +the results. It is not surprising that our opponents should be +reduced to the lowest depths of despair. They counted with the utmost +certainty on a majority of two hundred. But, as matters stand, it +is out of the question that their preponderance should exceed fifty. +Where are now the confident boastings with which they inaugurated the +campaign? They have confused the judgment of the electors with every +kind of side-issue. Misrepresentations have been sown broadcast, and +have, in too many instances, succeeded. But the great heart of the +country is still sound. Votes must be weighed as well as counted, and +it is safe to assume that, with a paltry and heterogeneous majority +of merely fifty, the advocates of revolution will be reduced to +impotence, even if they can succeed in forming a Government at all. +The result is one on which our Party may well congratulate themselves. +They have worked hard, and the solid fruit of their efforts is now +within their reach. We may safely say that the Irish policy of our +opponents has received its death-blow. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THERE HE BLOWS!" + +(_The German Emperor has gone Whaling in the North Seas._)] + + "There he blows! There he goes!" Like a Titan in throes, + With his wallopping tail, and his wave-churning nose, + The spouting Cetacean Colossus! + Eh? Harpoon that Monster! The thought makes one pale, + With one thundering thwack of that thumping big tail, + To the skies in small splinters he'd toss us! + + Rolling in foaming wild billows, ice-laden + He goes, like the "boisterous sea" (_vide_ HADYN!) + "Upheaved from the deep," swift, tremendous, + Leviathan sports on the far-foaming wave. + If _he_ runs athwart us, what power shall save, + From the doom to which promptly he'd send us? + + His "soundings," or "diggings," are many and deep; + But would that his "three-hundred fathoms" he'd keep, + Below in the ocean's cold quiet. + But no, not at all; he's not _that_ sort of whale! + He must breathe, he must blow, he must roar, till the gale + Is charged with the sound of his riot. + + Leviathan loves the wild turmoil of strife, + And lashing the billows to him is true life; + Behold how he buffets and scourges them! + Chase him? The Captain (though also a Kaiser), + Might think that his course to avoid him were wiser, + Until sheer necessity urges them. + + And yet whales _are_ beaten--by narwhals and men, + And other mere pigmies. 'Tis said, now and then, + E'en sword-fish can compass their ruin, + By stabbing together--in _Cassius's_ way + With _Caesar_. Leviathan, dead, is a prey + To dog-fish, and sea-birds, or Bruin. + + There he blows! There he goes! Would an amateur Whaler, + Like WILHELM, that fine blend of Statesman and Sailor, + Incline to the chase and the capture + Of such a huge, wandering, wallopping whale, + To whom "Troubling the waters" with blow-holes and tail + Seems a source of such riotous rapture? + + * * * * * + +DUST AND HASHES. + +SIR,--When I first took my present house, I was advised to get a +Sanitary Dust-bin, instead of the old brick one which existed in my +back-yard. One of the blessings predicted for my Sanitary Dust-bin, +was, that it was "easily removable." I find this to be the case. It +has already been removed by some area-sneak, and as I have got rid +of the old brick dust-bin, the Vestry threaten to prosecute me for +creating a nuisance, because my dust is now placed in a corner under +my front steps. What am I to do? + +AGGRIEVED HOUSEHOLDER. + +SIR,--I find that the law recently passed against tips to Dustmen is +quite unknown--at all events, to the Dustmen themselves. My servants, +I find, go on freely bribing these functionaries, to remove bones and +vegetable refuse. Their rate of tipping, as far as I can make out, +is about a halfpenny per bone. If I were now to enforce the law and +forbid tips, I foresee that the Dustcarts would have pressing business +elsewhere, and would visit me about once a month. Then would follow +a _regime_ of "big, big, D.s"--in the window--which would be +intolerable. I prefer tipping to typhoid. + +Yours long sufferingly, VICTIM OF THE VESTRIES. + +SIR,--The Vestry is _quite right_ to insist on every house burning up +its own odds and ends. The _true_ domestic motto is--"Every kitchen +its own crematorium." I do this _habitually_, out of _public spirit_. +It is true that a sickening odour permeates the house for an hour +or two of every day, created by the combustion of dinner remnants; +also that most of my family suffer from bad sore throats, which they +attribute to this cause. What of that? The _truly good Citizen_ will +prefer to poison himself rather than his neighbours. + +A CLERKENWELL CATO. + +SIR,--I recently purchased _Dodger's Digest of Dustbin Law_, and +recommend it to the perusal of every householder. In the case of _The +Vestry of Shoreditch_ v. _Grimes_, Lord Justice SLUSH remarks--"The +Vestry complains that the Defendant's bin was improperly covered; +that, in fact, it was not under coverture. To this the Defendant +replies that his bin was void _ab initio_, as there was nothing in it. +Then the question arises whether the Defendant's Cook was justified +in tipping the Dustman into the empty bin, considering that the +Legislature has distinctly forbidden tips of all kinds to Dustmen. I +am of opinion that the Cook was the Defendant's agent, and that the +rule of _qui facit per alium facit per se_ applies here. The Cook's +proceeding was undoubtedly tortious; it was not a criminal action, +though it certainly cannot be called a civil one. I agree with +my brother CHIPPY that the _ratio decidendi_ must be, whether the +Dustman, in coming to clean out an empty dust-bin, had a _malus +animus_ or no. On all these points I hold that judgment must be +for the Vestry." Your readers will see the importance of such clear +_obiter dicta_. + +Yours, AMATEUR LAWYER. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: PROOF POSITIVE. + +"I CAN'T THINK HOW THAT IMPRESSION GOT ABOUT, LADY GWENDOLINE. I SPEND +HALF MY TIME IN CONTRADICTING IT. OUR NEW MEMBER IS BY NO MEANS A +SMALL MAN. I'VE BEEN ON THE PLATFORM WITH HIM OFTEN, AND HE STANDS +FULLY AS TALL AS I DO!"] + + * * * * * + +THE CRY OF THE CHILDREN. + +[Illustration] + + Soon on Piccadilly's pavement solitude once more will reign; + Soon the Park will be a desert, for the Season's on the wane; + In Belgravia's lordly mansions nearly all the blinds are down, + For "the Family is gone, Sir,"--not a soul is left in Town. + + South to Switzerland they hurry, to explore each snowy fell; + North to Scotland's moors and forests, where the grouse and + red-deer dwell; + Carlsbad, Homburg, Trouville, Norway, soon their jaded eyes will + view; + For Society is speeding "to fresh woods and pastures new." + + Everyone is gone or going,--everyone, that is, one knows,-- + And the "Great Elections'" Season fast is drawing to its close. + Never surely was a poorer; such dull dinners, so few balls, + Such an Epsom, such an Ascot, or so many empty stalls. + + Gone the Season, with its dances, with its concerts and its _fetes_, + With its weddings and divorces, with its dinners and debates; + Gone are all its vapid pleasures, all its easy charities, + Gone its _causes celebres_ and scandals, gone its tears and + tragedies. + + Weary legislators envy still more weary _chaperons_;-- + Much they know the truth who deem them of Society the drones;-- + All the maidens are _ennuyees_, vow they "can't do anymore," + All the gilded youth are yawning--everything's a horrid bore. + + Hearken then, ye youths and maidens, favoured Children of the West, + East and South and North are children, who are hungering for rest. + They have never seen the country, never heard the streamlet flow: + London pavements, London darkness, London squalor,--these they know. + + Not for them to range the moorland, or to climb the mountain-side; + They must linger on in London, till the grave their sorrows hide. + From year's end to dreary year's end they must pace the noisy + street. + Do you hear the ceaseless echo of their weary, weary feet? + + Just one day without your wine, Sir! Madam, just one ribbon less, + And one wearied child in London from afar your name will bless. + Think, ere now you seek your boredom in fresh pleasure-draughts to + drown, + Three or four benighted Millions still are left behind in Town! + + * * * * * + +GENERAL OPINION ON APPOINTMENT OF NEW CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARD OF INLAND +REVENUE.--"MILNER's Safe." + + * * * * * + +CANVASSERS AND CANVASSED. + +(_AN ELECTIONEERING REMINISCENCE._) + + SCENE--_A narrow South London Street of two-storeyed houses, + with a Rag-and-Bone Shop at one end and a Public House at the + other. Time, about four o'clock on a warm Saturday afternoon. + Enter Mr. CARLTON-JERMYN, a middle-aged gentleman, in + faultless get-up, who, in a moment of weakness, has undertaken + to canvass the district for his friend, the Conservative + Candidate._ + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_to himself, as he regards his surroundings with dismay, +and tries to arrange his canvassing-cards_). I suppose this _is_ +Little Anna Maria Street? I didn't understand at the Committee Rooms +that it was _quite_ such a--however, I must do my best for dear old +TILNEY. Who's the first man I must see and "use my best endeavours to +persuade him into promising his vote?" Ah, Mr. J. SPLURGE, No. 1. (_He +picks his way delicately along, attempting to make out the numbers +on the doors, which are all thrown back; female residents watch him +from doorsteps and windows with amused interest._) No. 5; No. 3; the +next is No. 1. (_It is; but the entrance is blocked by a small infant +with a very dirty face, who is slung in a baby-chair between the +door-posts._) Very embarrassing, really! Can't ask such a child +as this if Mr. SPLURGE is at home! I'll knock. (_Stretches for the +knocker across the child, who, misinterpreting his intentions, sets up +a howl._) My good child, I assure you ... for Heaven's sake, don't!... +I--I wonder whether I ought to _kiss_ it--some fellows would! + +[Illustration: "I wonder whether I ought to _kiss_ it--some fellows +would!"] + +_Female Voice_ (_from side-window_). You leave that pore child alone, +will yer--or I'll come out and _tork_ to you, d'y'ear? + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_to himself_). That's _Mrs._ SPLURGE! I think, perhaps, +I'd better _not_ wait. (_With an inspiration._) I'll leave a card. +(_Drops one of his visiting-cards in the child's lap--to its exceeding +terror--and retreats._) I'm _afraid_ I haven't produced a very +favourable impression, so far, I'll try No. 2, across the street. (_He +approaches a doorstep upon which two stout and dishevelled Women are +seated._) Er--I _beg_ your pardon, but could you kindly inform me if +Mr.--er--(_consulting card_)--GUFFIN is at home? + +_First Woman_ (_with sarcasm_). Now _do_ yer think he's nothink else +to do but set indoors in a arm-cheer all day? + +_Mr. C.-J._ I--I thought--I hoped--that, it being Saturday, I might +be--er--fortunate enough--have I the pleasure of addressing Mrs. +GUFFIN? [_Both Women are convulsed with uncontrollable mirth._ + +_Second Woman_ (_on recovering--calling down the passage_). 'Ere, Mrs. +GUFFIN, yer wanted. 'Ere's a gentleman come to see yer! + +_Mrs. Guffin_ (_appearing from the basement, and standing at the +further end of the passage_). Well, what does _he_ want? + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_raising his hat, and sending his voice down the passage +to her_). I ventured to call, Mrs. GUFFIN, in the hope of finding your +husband at home, and ascertaining his--er--political sympathies, in +view of the Election. + +_Mrs. Guffin._ Oh, it's about the voting, is it? Are you for a +Conservatory? + +_Mr. C.-J._ For a--? Oh, to be sure, yes. I came to ask Mr. GUFFIN to +support Sir TILNEY BRUTON, the Conservative Candidate. Perhaps if I +called again, I might--? + +_Mrs. Guffin_ (_in a matter-of-fact tone_). I don't expect my 'usband +'ome till late, and then he'll be drunk. + +_Mr. C.-J._ Just so. But I trust, Mrs. GUFFIN, your husband feels the +importance of maintaining the Union--? + +_Mrs. Guffin._ He _did_ belong, I know, but I think his branch broke +up, or somethink. + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_puzzled_). Ah, but I mean in--er--politics--I hope he is +opposed to granting Home Rule to Ireland? + +_Mrs. G._ He don't tell _me_ nothing about his politics, but I've +'eard him say he was Radikil. + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_diplomatically, as Mrs. G. slowly edges towards +the door_). Might I suggest, Mrs. GUFFIN, that you should use +the--er--influence which every woman possesses, to--er--induce your +husband--(_here he suddenly becomes aware that Mrs. GUFFIN has a +very pronounced black eye_); but perhaps I ought not to ask you. + +_Mrs. G._ Well, _my_ opinion is--if you want someone to tork over my +'usband to your side, you'd better come and do it yourself; because +_I_ ain't goin' to. So there! [_She retires to the basement again._ + +_First Dish. W._ If you toffs can't do nothink better than come 'ere +makin' mischief between a man and his wife, you'd better stop at 'ome, +_that_ you 'ad! + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_to himself_). Upon my word, I believe she's right! But I +never noticed the poor woman's eye before. I wish I could find one +of the _men_ in, and have a talk with him--much more satisfactory! +(_Knocks at No. 4_) Is Mr. BULCHER at home? + +_Mr. B._ (_lurching out of a room on the ground-floor_). Qui' c'rect, +Guv'nor--thash me! + +_Mr. C.-J._ I wanted to see you, Mr. BULCHER, to ask if we may count +upon your support for the Conservative Candidate at the Election. I +need hardly point out to you the--er--vital importance of-- + +_Mr. B._ (_slouching against the passage-wall, opposite Mr. C.-J._). +'Old on, Guv'nor, lemme ashk you thish question, 'fore we go any +furrer. Wharriwanter 'ear from _you_ is--'Ow 'm I goin' git little bit +o' good outer thesh 'lections for myshelf. You unnershtand me? What +good Conshervative gov'men' ever done er workin' man--d' yer shee? +Why, never--not in all their born daysh! You take that shtraight from +me. + +_Mr. C.-J._ But surely--er--it was a Conservative Government that gave +you Free Education? + +_Mr. B._ (_knowingly_). No, it washn't, Guv'nor. There yer wrong, +d'yer see? It wash er _Radicals_ give us Free Education. And whatsh +Free Education er me? Wouldn' say Thank yer f'rall Free Education in +er wide world! + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_recognising that he must strike a stronger chord_). +Well, at all events you will admit that, during the last six years, +you have been--er--peaceful and prosperous? + +_Mr. B._ (_beerily_). I've been peashful and proshperous ever sinsh +I was born. No, look 'ere, Guv'nr, I'm torken to you 'bout wharri +_unnershtan'_, d'yer see? Jes' you lishen er wharri'm goin tell you. +(_Here he punctuates his remarks by poking Mr. C.-J.'s ribs with +a clay pipe._) Workin' man's gettin' more and more 'telligent every +day--he'sh qui' capable lookin' after his own interests. What +he wantch is, One Man One Vote, Redooced Hours o' Labour, 'Ome +Rule for London, an' the Control of the Liquor Traffic! What did +Misher GLADSHTONE say? Educated and 'telligent clashes alwaysh +_wrong_--mashes always _ri'_! An' hain't _I_ 'telligent an' educated? +Very _well_, then. There you _'ave_ it. + +_Mr. C.-J._ But--er--don't you see, my friend, that, according to Mr. +GLADSTONE, the more intelligent and educated you are, the more you're +wrong? + +_Mr. B._ Nothing of--er--kind. Don' you make any mishtake. _I_ ain't +wrong. I gommy 'pinions--my p'litical 'pinions, and the prinshiples I +go 'pon are--Down with--er--Tories! + +_Mr. C.-J._ In that case, Mr. BULCHER, I need not occupy your time any +longer, so I'll say-- + +_Mr. B._ (_buttonholing him_). Don' you go 'way, Guv'nor, 'fore I've +finished torkin. I've lishened all _you_ gorrer say--now itsh +_my_ turn talk, and I tell _you_ er Conshervative Gov'men ish a +downri'--&c., &c. + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_escaping, after ten minutes' incoherence_). I'm afraid +he was not _quite_ in a condition to be argued with, but perhaps I +shall do better with Mr. MOLESKIN, next door. (_To a small boy in +passage._) Mr. MOLESKIN in, my lad? + +_The Boy._ Father--_e's_ in. Go right up the stairs, and you'll find +'im. + + [_Mr. C.-J. flounders up the narrow stairs, and is met at the + top by a very burly and surly mechanic._ + +_Mr. Moleskin_. Now, then, what do _you_ want 'ere? (Mr. C.-J. +_explains his object, in some confusion_.) Oh, that's it, is it? And +what right ha' you got comin' up my stairs as if they belonged to you? +Jest you tell me that! + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_meekly_). I'm really very sorry--but I was--er--_shown_ +up. + +_Mr. M._ It's 'igh time you and the likes o' you _were_ shown up, in +my opinion. 'Ow would you like to 'ave me comin' bustin' up _your_ +stairs, eh? + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_thinking that he wouldn't like it at all_). I assure +you I quite feel that this is an unwarrantable intrusion on my part--I +must ask you to accept my best apologies--but I should be very glad +to know that we might count on your--er--support at such a national +crisis. + +_Mr. M._ I dessay yer would. But what I ask _you_ is--where does the +secresy of the Ballot come in, if I'm to tell you which way I'm goin' +to give my vote? + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_in distress_). Pray believe that I should not dream +of--er--forcing any confidence from you, or dictating to you in any +way! I merely-- + +_Mr. M._ (_mollified_). Well, I don't mind tellin' yer this +much:--I've made up _my_ mind long ago, and, when the time comes, I +shall vote to please myself and nobody else; and that's as much as +you've got any right to know! + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_with a feeling that he would give much the same answer +himself under similar circumstances_). Then I'm afraid it would be of +no use if I said any more? + +_Mr. M._ Not a bit o' use! [_He goes into his room again._ + +_Mrs. Moleskin_ (_coming out and addressing her son from landing_). +'Ere, JIMMY, you come in orf o' that doorstep, and don't you go +showin' any _more_ folks up, or you don't know _oo'_ you may let in +next! + +_Mr. C.-J._ (_sadly, to himself, as he descends_). I'd no idea +canvassing was such exhausting work. I--I really think I've done +enough for one afternoon! [_Leaves Little Anna Maria Street--for +ever!_ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "Bear with us!"] + +"BEAR WITH US."--In the case reported in the papers last week of "an +infuriated bear shot at Croydon," Inspector ORMONDE said that "when +the ring had been removed from its lip, the animal was so much +relieved that it immediately turned a somersault." A picture of this +interesting incident should be at once painted and hung up in the +Divorce Court. The husband, who has become quite a bear in consequence +of his better half having rendered herself quite unbearable, would +naturally turn head-over-heels with joy on getting quit of the ring. +But alas! mark the end of the poor bear. He got more and more excited; +he had to be looked up in a stable. Here the joy and novelty of the +situation overcame him; his mighty brain gave way; he became mad as +a hatter--(_Alice in Wonderland_ might have asked, "Then why didn't +they send for a hatter, who would have brought a chimney-pot, or some +sort of a tile for his bear-head?")--and subsequently the veterinary +Mr. THRALE (whose ancestral namesake had considerable experience +in dealing with that learned bear. Dr. JOHNSON) procured a gun, and +potted the bear. Awkward in his life, but grease-ful in his death. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: EDWARDO AND EDWINI. + +A JAPANESE JAPE BY OUR EVER-ON-THE-SPOT ARTIST "LIKA JOKO," +REPRESENTING SIR EDWIN ARNOLD RECEIVING THE ORDER OF "THE FIRST +DESCRIPTIVE LEADER" FROM H.J.M., DALI TELLI, THE MIKADO.] + + * * * * * + +LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS. + +_Mount Street, Grosvenor Square._ + +DEAR MR. PUNCH, + +Anything more dreary than racing during this week's weather at +Newmarket can scarcely be imagined! I have often heard Lord ARTHUR +declare he was "as dry as a limekiln," and always thought it an absurd +expression; and now I _know_ it is!--for anything more _wet_ than +the Limekilns at Newmarket this week I never saw!--it's a mystery to +me how the poor horses and men avoid catching cold, cantering about +there without galoshes--though, by the way, Mr. HAMMOND had _one_ +"_Galoche_" which, of course, was not much use! + +Owing to the smallness (that's a good word) of the attendance, we were +"pinched" a little in the prices, and of course the pinch came where +one least expected it, which was somewhat disconcerting--but as most +of the "good things" came off all right--(especially those we took +with us from BENOIST and FORTNUM's)--it did not matter so much. Ladies +of course were chiefly conspicuous by their absence, but my sweet +friend Lady NEWMAN GATESHEAD was quite the _Belle_ of the gathering, +and attracted nearly as much attention as the _Queen of Navarre_, who +naturally won her race in royal style! + +My selection for the Chesterfield Stakes, _Meddler_, was successful +after a short struggle with the Duke of PORTLAND's _Kilmarnock_ to +whom he had to give five pounds (I hope this does not mean that the +noble owner is in want of money!); but I am told the latter was not +"fit" and "will do better with time!" though I don't quite see how +that can be, as surely "time" travels faster than _Meddler_, so that, +unless they take time with him, the handicap will be difficult to +frame! By the way, when the handicaps _are_ framed, where do they hang +them up? and is it one of the "perks" of the Handicapper to supply the +frames? + +Those who waited in the rain for the last race on Wednesday were +rewarded with a splendid exhibition of horsemanship, given by WEBB on +_St. Angelo_; who appears to be somewhat of a "handful" (_St. Angelo_ +I mean, not WEBB, who is very slight), and evinces a strong desire +to run in any direction but the one desired of him! I think Mr. +MILNER should have him trained on a zigzag method, when his natural +wilfulness would cause him to run straight when racing! This is an +excellent idea, and I have others equally good (applicable to all +styles of horses), which I intend to suggest to different trainers on +my next visit to Newmarket! + +We were all relieved when the "curtain rang down" on Thursday--(this +is not, at first sight, a racing expression, but is largely used by +sporting writers, as demonstrating the diversified nature of their +knowledge!), in time for us to catch the early special for Liverpool +Street; which, special, might really, from the major portion of its +patrons, have been thought to be starting for Jerusalem! + +Friday was a glorious day for the Eclipse, which was only visible from +the Observatory at Esher--the best account appears to have been given +by Professor _Orme_, who recovered from his recent severe illness just +in time to be present. + +Just a word in conclusion on the big race of next week--a paradox--be +"wide awake" and go "nap" on my tip, from information privately given +to + +Yours devotedly, LADY GAY. + +LIVERPOOL CUP SELECTION. + + Some owners win, although their gee + In temper be a "villen;" + As that is not the sort for me, + I favour "_Enniskillen_." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: EN PASSANT. + +_He_. "THAT'S THAT ASS, BOUNDERSON, ISN'T IT? HE SHOULD HAVE BEEN +DROWNED AS A _PUPPY_!" + +_She_. "THERE'S TIME ENOUGH _YET_, ISN'T THERE?"] + + * * * * * + +THE POLITICAL JOHNNY GILPIN. + +THE FINISH. + +(_Further-discovered Fragments of the Grand Old Ballad, giving the +Sequel of the strange story begun in "Punch," No. 2660, July 2, p. +318._) + + * * * * * + + So fair and softly! JOHNNY cried, + But JOHNNY cried in vain; + That trot became a gallop soon, + In spite of curb and rein. + + So, stooping down, as needs he must + Who cannot sit upright, + He grasped the mane with both his hands, + And eke with all his might. + + * * * * * + + Away went GILPIN neck or nought, + Away went hat and wig; + He little dreamt when he set out + Of running such a rig. + + The wind did blow, the cloak did fly + Like streamer long and gay, + Till people thought, and JOHN half feared, + That it might fly away. + + Then might all gazers well discern + The bottles he had slung; + A bottle swinging at each side, + As hath been said or sung. + + Away went GILPIN--who but he? + His fame soon spread around; + "He carries weight! He rides a race!" + "He'll win it, we'll be bound!" + + * * * * * + + Then all through merry London Town, + These gambols he did play; + Until he came to rural parts, + Where rustics lined the way. + + There labourers shouted, women screamed, + Up flew the felt-hats all; + And every yokel yelled, "Well done!" + As loud as he could bawl. + + * * * * * + + Away went GILPIN, out of breath, + And fearing much a "spill;" + But knowing till his race was run + His horse would not stand still. + + His hat was gone, his W(h)ig also, + His cloak he had to clutch. + Could he hold on? A mile or two + Would put it to the touch. + + A church-bell clanging, scared his steed, + Pigs dashed betwixt its feet; + And on his own beloved North Road, + JOHN _almost_ lost his seat. + + On the North Road, his sometime friends, + Their sometime favourite spied, + Well-nigh dismounted, wondering much, + To see how he did ride. + + "Ride straight, JOHN GILPIN--for the House!" + JOHN's Liberal Dame did cry. + "The Party waits, and we feel tired." + Said GILPIN--"So do I!" + + But yet his horse was not a whit + Inclined due North to stay; + For why?--his stables at the House + Were out Westminster way. + + So like an arrow swift he flew + Back southward through the throng, + Who shouted loud, "He yet will win! + JOHN GILPIN's going strong!" + + * * * * * + + And now Town's traffic once again + For horse and man made space, + The drivers thinking, as before, + That GILPIN rode a race. + + And so he did--and won it, too, + For he got first to Town; + And, stiff and sore, at the House door, + Bare winner, he got down. + + Now let us sing, Long live the QUEEN, + And GILPIN, long live he! + And when he next doth ride due North, + May we be there to see! + + * * * * * + +A GOOD STAYER.--From the _Times_ of Tuesday, the 12th, we cull this:-- + + IN ANY CAPACITY of TRUST.--Seven years in first-class Turkish + Bath. Patience and perseverance. Good invalid attendant. + Active and attentive. + +"Seven years in a Turkish Bath!" As Mr. WILSON BARRETT would +exclaim, "How long! How long!" What better example of patience and +perseverance, which, as all know, are "good for the gout," could +possibly be given? That after this long stay in the Turkish Bath, he +should be "a good invalid attendant," goes without saying. And not +only is he "attentive," which is a great point in an "attendant," but +he is also active--and this after so long a stay in a Turkish Bath, of +which, however, he does not mention the temperature. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE POLITICAL JOHNNY GILPIN. + +(_THE FINISH_.) + +"SO LIKE AN ARROW SWIFT HE FLEW BACK SOUTHWARD THROUGH THE THRONG, WHO +SHOUTED LOUD, 'HE YET WILL WIN! JOHN GILPIN'S GOING STRONG!' + +"AND SO HE DID--AND WON IT, TOO, FOR HE GOT FIRST TO TOWN; AND, STIFF +AND SORE, AT THE HOUSE DOOR, BARE WINNER, HE GOT DOWN."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "COLOURABLE SHAKSPEARIAN IMITATION." + +_Othello, M.P. for Central Finsbury_ (_saluting Sarum, Doge of +Westminster_). "HAPLY THAT I AM BLACK--" [_Doge shudders, but feels +unable to withdraw._] + + * * * * * + +OPERATIC NOTES. + +_Wednesday_.--Crowded for WAGNER's _Goetterdaemmerung_, "which," says +the _Rev. Mr. Penley_, who "doesn't like London," "is such an awful +name, that fond as I am of music, I really could not go and see it." +As to WAGNER, well, "it's all right when you know him, but you've got +to know him fust." + +Herr ALVARY excellent as _Siegfried_; Herr WIEGAND powerful; ditto +the wide-awake Herr KNAPP. Frau KLAFSKY, a beautiful and interesting +_Bruennhilde_; and it is difficult to be personally interesting in a +Wagnerian Opera, where _ensemble_ is everything. Fraeulein HEINE and +BETTAQUE, equally good. + +Herr MAHLER was "called," with the rest of the company, to receive his +meed of praise for conducting. Opera perfectly put on Stage by Herr +von DRURIOLANUS, and though the Season is coming to an end, yet the +Opera is still "going strong." + + * * * * * + +NOTE AND QUERY BY MRS. R.--Our old friend wants to know from what Poet +comes this quotation-- + + "A needless Salamander ends the line." + +Mrs. R. thinks it's from POPE; but if so, she asks what Pope? as there +are so many of 'em. + + * * * * * + +ORNAMENTAL STRUCTURE IN NEW NORFOLK.--A Triumphal ARCH. + + * * * * * + +STUDIES IN THE NEW POETRY. + +NO. IV. + +In offering this fourth example of the New Poetry to his readers, _Mr. +Punch_ wishes it to be distinctly understood, that he is in no way +responsible, personally, for the curious mixture of divinities and +semi-divinities who figure in it. It is one of the distinguishing +marks of this particular sort of New Poetry to pile up a confusion of +more or less mythological names in a series of swinging and resonant +lines. In one line the reader may imagine himself to be embarked in +the River Cocytus. In the next, he will be surprised to find himself +in Eden. Blood, battle, bumptiousness, and an aggressive violence, are +special characteristics of this style of writing. Some of the lines +apparently mean nothing at all, others are calculated to make timid +people tremble; and the effect of the whole is generally picturesque, +lurid, and uncomfortable. + +One of the great advantages of a poem like this, is that it may be +used for all kinds of purposes. For example, if it was originally +written as an invective against an opponent, it may afterwards, with +the utmost ease, be made to serve as a threnody. Here then without +further preface is:-- + +THE SUNDERED FLEA. + +BY MR. R*DY*RD K*PL*NG. + + Out on the path of the blazing ball that has hurtled a million + years, + Where the uttermost light glows red by night in the clash of the + angry spheres, + Where never a tear-drop dims the eye, and sorrows are stifled young, + And the Anglo-Indians snigger and sneer with the jest of a bitter + tongue. + + Where the tribesmen mock at the Bengalee and shiver their spears + in vain, + And officers steep their souls chin-deep in brandy and dry + champagne; + Where the Rudyard river runs, flecked with foam, far forth to the + Kipling seas, + And the maker of man takes walks abroad with Pagan deities. + + Where AZRAEL talks to the Graces Three, and the Muses Nine stand by, + And ask Greek riddles of BUDDHA, who never makes reply. + (Gentlemen all and ladies too as smart as a brand-new pin), + And nobody wonders how on earth so mixed a lot got in-- + + Here in the track of a thunderbolt from the nethernmost smithy + hurled, + With the groan of an ancient passion rent from the wreck of a + shattered world, + In the white-hot pincers of BAAL borne through cycles of agony, + Lit by the Pit's red wrath there came the Soul of a Sundered Flea. + + And all that company started back; first AZRAEL grimly smiled, + The smile that an East-End Coster smiles, by a stout policeman + riled; + And BUDDHA made no remark at all, but nodded his heavy head, + Like a boy who has eaten too much dessert, and wants to be put to + bed. + + And the Muses Nine, as they stood in line, they shuddered and + turned to go. + "A joke's a joke, but I can't bear fleas," said CLIO to ERATO. + And the Graces, the good Conservative Three, shrank back to a spot + remote, + And observed that they knew that this would come from letting the + Masses vote. + + Then AZRAEL spake--"On the Stygian lake I floated a half-sinned sin + On the crest of a cross-grained stickleback, that is caught with a + crooked pin; + For a year and a day I watched it whirl, but never that sin could be + One-half so base as your gruesome face, O Soul of a Sundered Flea! + + "What ill have ye done? Speak up, speak up!--for this is no place, + I trow, + For the puling people on virtue fed. So speak, or prepare to go." + But the Flea flew free from the pincers' grip, and uttered a + single phrase-- + "I have lived on blood, as a gentleman should, and that is my + claim to praise." + + Then a shout of joy from the throng went forth; they built him a + crystal throne, + And there in his pride, with none beside, he rules and he reigns + alone. + And this is the tale which I here set down, as the story was told + to me-- + In excellent Rudyard-Kipling verse--the tale of the Sundered Flea. + + * * * * * + +ANTICIPATORY NEWS (_from Our Own Court Tripping Newsman_).--Sir +ALGERNON BORTHWICK, Bart, M.P., will be raised to the Peerage with the +title of Lord MORNINGPOST, of Penniwise, Seefarshire, N.B. + + * * * * * + +An Anti-lawn-tennis Lady considers that the argument against Croquet, +as a game involving a bent back, and a narrowing of the chest, is +merely "A very stoopit objection." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: GUSHING HOSPITALITY. (TIME 3 P.M.) + +_Hospitable Host_. "HAVE C'GAR, OLD F'LLA?" + +_Languid Visitor_. "NO--THANKS!" + +_H.H._ "CIGARETTE THEN?" + +_His Visitor_. "NO--THANKS. NEVAR SMOKE 'MEJATELY AFTER BREAKFAST." + +_H.H._ "CAN'T REFUSE A TOOTHPICK, THEN, OLD F'LLA?"] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +_The Royal Agricultural Society's Journal_. A Society Journal of +a peculiar character, of which this is the Third Series and Third +Volume. It is noticeable for Lord CATHCART's appeal for the wild +birds, which, as addressed to farmers and farm-labourers and armed +ploughboys, may be summed up by an adaptation of the refrain of the +remonstrance--so frequently urged by one of Lieutenant COLE's funny +figures--"Can't you let the birds alone?" Then Mr. HASTING "On +Vermin," which doesn't sound nice, though better than if the title +were _vice versa_,--is most interesting, especially where he tells us +that "shrews are harmless." If so, why did SHAKSPEARE give us "_The +Taming of the Shrew_" as such a feat? Professor BROWN writes about +disease in sheep, of which paper Lord ARTHUR WEEDON DE GROSSMITH +would be absolutely correct in observing, "What rot!" And, by the +way, _a propos_ of WEEDON, the Baron has to congratulate the Brothers +GROSSMITH on their _Diary of a Nobody_, republished from _Mr. Punch's_ +pages, but with considerable additions. The Diary is very funny, not +a page of it but affords matter for a good laugh; and yet the story +is not without a touch of pathos, as it is impossible not to pity the +steady, prim, old-fashioned jog-trot NOBODY, whose son, but just one +remove above a regular 'ARRY, treats him with such unfilial rudeness. + +It has been complained that the late General Election has not been +amusing, and has given birth to little fun. Let those who feel this +most acutely read Mr. R.C. LEHMANN's _The "Billsbury Election (Leaves +from the Diary of a Candidate)."_ He will tell you how Mr. RICHARD +B. PATTLE contested Billsbury in the Constitutional Interest; how he +"buttered up Billsbury like fun," was badgered by Billsbury, heckled +by Billsbury, taxed, tithed and tormented by Billsbury, and eventually +"chucked" by Billsbury, by the aggravatingly small majority of +seventeen. Also how his "Mother bore up like a Trojan, and said she +was prouder of me than ever." Just so. + + I hold it true whate'er befall, + I wrote so, to the _Morning Post_; + 'Tis better to have "run" and lost, + Than never to have run at all. + +"Modern Types" and "Among the Amateurs" are well known to the readers +of _Punch_. But lovers of C.S. CALVERLEY--that is to say, all but a +very few ill-conditioned critical creatures--and of neat verse with a +sting to it, should turn to p. 203 (A.C.S. _v_. C.S.C.), and read and +enjoy the smart slating Mr. LEHMANN administers to tumid, tumultuous, +thrasonic, turncoatist ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE, for saying +of the brilliant and well-beloved Author of _Fly Leaves_, &c., +that he--forsooth!--is "monstrously overrated and preposterously +overpraised"!!! BARON DE B.-W. & Co. + + * * * * * + +WANTED IN THE LAW COURTS. + +A Junior who will wear his gown straight, and not pretend that intense +preoccupation over dummy briefs prevents him from knowing that it is +off one shoulder. + +A Judge who can resist the temptation to utter feeble witticisms, and +to fall asleep. + +A Witness who answers questions, and incidentally tells the truth. + +A Jury who do not look supremely silly, and ridiculously +self-conscious, when directly addressed or appealed to by Counsel; +or one that really understands that the Judge's politeness is only +another and subtle form of self-glorification. + +A Q.C. who is not "eminent," who does not behave "nobly," and who can +avoid the formula "I suggest to you," in cross-examination; or one +that does not thunder from a lofty and inaccessible moral altitude so +soon as a nervous Witness blunders or contradicts himself. + +An Usher who does not try to induce the general public, especially the +female portion thereof, to mistake him for the Lord Chancellor. + +A Solicitor who does not strive to appear _coram populo_ on terms of +quite unnecessarily familiar intercourse with his leading Counsel. + +An Articled Clerk who does not dress beyond his thirty shillings +a-week, and think that the whole Court is lost in speculation as to +the identity of that distinguished-looking young man. + +An Associate who does not go into ecstasies of merriment over every +joke or _obiter dictum_ from the Bench. + +Anybody who does not give loud expression to the opinion at the +nearest bar when the Court rises, that he could have managed the case +for either or both sides infinitely better than the Counsel engaged. + +A Court-house whose atmosphere is pleasant and invigorating after the +Court has sat for fifteen minutes. + +(Anyone concerned who, on reading these remarks in print, will think +that the cap can, by any _scintilla_ of possibility, fit himself.) + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: BUFFALO WILLIAM'S GREAT WILD N.S.E. & W. SHOW. THE +LATEST "UNSEATING ACT."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF A LABOUR CANDIDATE. + +WARRANTED TO "SWEEP THE COUNTRY," AND MAKE HIS MARK IN THE HOUSE OF +COMMONS. (NATURALLY A FLUE-NT SPEAKER)!] + + * * * * * + +JUSTICE FOR 'FRISCO. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--I notice that a complaint has been made that those +charming stories of wild life in the Far West, are out of date. +Nay, more, that they are calculated to do a great deal of harm to +a considerable amount of valuable property. On the other hand, the +talented authors of the picturesque romances to which I have referred, +insist that there is a great demand for these literary wares, and they +would suffer much loss if they were to discontinue their production. + +Could not the matter be compromised? We are less sensitive than our +American cousins, and if the scene were changed from St. Francisco to +some quiet watering-place on the Kentish Coast, our kindred beyond +the seas ought to be satisfied. I do not pretend to be a master of the +style of those who write Backwood sensations, but I think I can jot +down a few lines to show what I mean. Beneath I give a specimen of the +sort of thing that might take the place of stories revelling in such +titles as the "_Luck of Murder Camp_," "_Slack Bill's Banker_," and +"_The Talk of Stab-in-the-Backman's Chasm_." + +THE CHAFF OF HERNE BAY CREEK. + +CHAPTER XX.--_CHARLEY MEETS A CHUM_. + +The Miners who had been digging all day long the rough shingle for +treasure-trove, had retired to their rudely constructed cabins. These +rough huts were built of wood, and furnished with a seat on either +side. There were two small windows let into the oaken walls--each +of them not more than six inches square. They were absolutely free +from furniture--save perhaps, a foot of cheap looking-glass, and +here and there a wooden-peg used by the Miners for hanging up their +slouch-hats, their red flannel-shirts, and their long leather-boots. + +These huts were not unlike the other habitations in the wild Far West, +save that they had this peculiarity--each hut was mounted on a huge +springless framework, supported by four lumbering wooden wheels. By +this arrangement the hut could be moved from place to place, sometimes +to the fields, with their mines of undiscovered treasure; sometimes to +the sea, burdened with legacies of the mighty deep. + +CHARLEY was smoking a pipe, and thinking of that fair home in San +Francisco, the very centre of civilisation, where the hotels were +admirable, the stores well stocked, and house property at a premium. + +"I did not discover a single ruby yesterday," he murmured, and then +he looked at the wooden spade of a child--"I found only there a young +'un's toy. But it has softened my heart, and taught me that human +nature is human nature." + +He paused to wipe away with a sunburnt hand a furtive tear. + +"CHARLEY, my lad," he exclaimed, "this is unmanly. What would DARE +DEATH DICK or THUNDER TIM say to such a show of water?" + +He took the spade, and was about to throw it with violence to the +ground, when his better nature triumphed, and he placed it, almost +with reverence, on the bench beside him. + +He was disturbed by a tap on the outer door--the door that faced the +sea. + +"Who's there?" he shouted, as he held in one hand a revolver, and in +the other a bowie-knife of the usual fashion. + +"Are you ready?" + +It was a gruff voice, and yet there was something feminine about +it. CHARLEY had never feared to meet a woman yet, and he did not now +shrink from the encounter. However his training had made him cautious. +It might be a trap of the bloodthirsty Indians--those Children of +Nature who were known to indulge in any cruel subterfuge to secure the +white men as their prey. + +"Are you ready?" was repeated in the same gruff voice, but now the +tone was one of entreaty. The speaker seemed to be imploring for a +reply. + +CHARLEY hesitated no longer. He put down the bowie-knife, and still +holding the revolver, opened the door. + +He started back! Yes, it was a woman who confronted him. But such a +woman! Her face was weather-beaten and sunburnt. Her hair was grey, +and there were pieces of sea-weed in the shapeless mass that once may +have been called a bonnet. She was wearing a heavy serge dress that +was dripping with the sea. On her huge feet were old boots sodden with +sand and wet. She might have been of any age, from fifty upwards. + +She gazed at CHARLEY with an uncanny smile, and extended her arms +towards him. Then she spoke in the same gruff tone, + +"Come to your MARTHA!" + +And CHARLEY knew he had met a chum! + + * * * * * + +There, something like the above might do. The woods in the +neighbourhood of Herne Bay are just the places for adventure, and, +with thought, a good deal might be managed with the Reculvers. + +And now, _Mr. Punch_, I have done. + +Yours respectfully, A WILD WELSH RAREBIT. + + * * * * * + +COMMERCE A L'AMERICAINE. + +(_PAGE FROM A DIARY ON THE POINT OF BEING WRITTEN_.) + +_Monday_.--Miners of the Great Hagglenaggle Fields ask for increase +of wages, emphasising their demand by firing off revolvers and +brandishing bowie-knives. + +_Tuesday_.--Masters of the Great Hagglenaggle Fields refuse to treat +with Miners, and entrench themselves behind ironclad back gardens. +They also send for a force of PATTERSON's Mercenary Chuckers-out. +Fighting imminent. + +_Wednesday_.--Appearance of PATTERSON's Mercenary Chuckers out. They +are met by Miners with discharges of Gattling guns and land torpedoes. + +_Thursday_.--The two armies face to face. Both sides fire away, using +up all their ammunition. End of the day's contest, no balance on +either side. Great success of the new General Interment Company. +Shares at thirty premium. + +_Friday_.--Reinforcements for both sides. A general engagement +considered imminent. In the meanwhile, _pour passer le temps_, +skirmishes and slaughter of thousands. + +_Saturday_.--First-class, regular all-round battle. A large force +arrived to fight the Miners, Gatlings and Krupps blaze away without +intermission. Losses on both sides pretty considerable. + +_Sunday_.--Conversion of the Great Hagglenaggle Fields into a +cemetery. Great rise in shares on allotment. Ten acres of booking in +advance! + + * * * * * + +LAYS OF MODERN HOME. + +NO. III.--OFF FOR MY HOLIDAY. + + Yes! I'm off for my holiday. Forty odd pieces + Of luggage, three cabs, and a van, and a 'bus too. + Without counting loose wraps, and umbrellas in creases, + And sweets that my darlings are sucking with gusto. + + Yes! I'm off for my holiday--wife in hysterics, + Since nowhere on earth can her poodle be found; + And the nurses and children--ANNES, LILIANS, ERICS-- + All screaming, and fussing, and fuming around! + + Yes! I'm off for my holiday--Tyneside, or Deeside, + Or Lakes, or that Switzerland English, Hind Head, + Or the thousand monotonies known as "The Seaside"-- + Ask not whither my fugitive footsteps are led. + + For whatever the place, it is ever the same thing; + Poor Paterfamilias always must suffer. + A dyspeptic, a costly, a lame and a tame thing + Is Holiday-time for a family buffer. + + Yes! I'm off for my holiday--where I won't mention; + They are pulling the blinds of my drawing-room down: + But next year--if I live--it's my solemn intention + _To stay, upon business, en garcon, in Town_. + + * * * * * + +FAIR PROSPECTS OF FINE WEATHER.--No rain on St. Swithin's, and last +week the County of Inverness discarded its MACKINTOSH. + + * * * * * + +NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., +Printed 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. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. +103, July 23, 1892, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 14965.txt or 14965.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/9/6/14965/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, 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. 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