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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 01:43:56 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 01:43:56 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/21590-8.txt b/21590-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7e3c7b6 --- /dev/null +++ b/21590-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1772 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 98, +January 18, 1890, 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, Volume 98, January 18, 1890 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis Burnand + +Release Date: May 23, 2007 [EBook #21590] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by V. L. Simpson, Malcolm Farmer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + + +VOL. 98. + + + +January 18th, 1890. + + + +AMONG THE AMATEURS. + +No. III.--REALISATION. + + SCENE--_Theatre Royal, Blankbury, on the first night of + the performance of the well-known Comedy of_ "Heads or + Tails?" _by the "Thespian Perambulators." Time_, 7:50 + P.M. _A "brilliant and fashionable assemblage" is + gradually filling the house. In the Stalls are many + distinguished Amateurs of both Sexes, including_ Lady + SURBITON, _who has brought her husband_ and Mrs. + GAGMORE (Lady SURBITON'S _particular friend_). _The + rest of the Stalls are occupied by the immediate + friends and relations of the Actors. A few professional + Critics are to be seen. They are addressed with much + politeness by the Amateurs in front of the House, and + "played to" with feverish anxiety by the Amateurs on + the Stage. The Orchestra is composed of excellent + Amateur Musicians. The Curtain has not yet risen._ + +_Lady Surbiton_ (_to_ Mrs. GAGMORE). My dear, it's a wonder we ever got +here. CHARLES of course forgot the date, and told me only yesterday he'd +invited some men to stay for a shoot. He had to listen to reason, though, +and so we spent all yesterday sending telegrams to put them off. I've been +at every performance of The Thespians for years, and it wouldn't do to +begin missing them now, would it? + + [Illustration] + +_Mrs. Gagmore._ Certainly not, dear, it would have been quite a calamity. +There's the Duchess of MIDDLESEX nodding to you. + +_Lady S._ So it is. (_Smiles sweetly at the Duchess, who is sitting three +rows off._) I call it scandalous of her to come out like this when both her +twins have got the measles. Did I tell you I lent Mr. SPINKS my pet parrot, +Penelope, for this performance? + +_Mrs. G._ No, dear. I didn't know they ever played it with a parrot. + +_Lady S._ Well, they don't usually, but Mr. SPINKS told me that, after +studying the piece very very carefully, he had come to the conclusion that +there ought to be a parrot in _Lady Shorthorn's_ drawing-room, and he +begged me to lend him mine. Fortunately it scarcely ever talks. Oh, there's +Mr. PENFOLD! How old he's getting to look. He never seems to have a good +word to say for anyone in his critiques. They're very late in beginning. I +hope nothing has happened to Penelope. Ah! at last. + + _The Orchestra strikes up. After a few minutes the + Curtain rises on "the Drawing-room at Bullivant Court." + Sc. 1, Act 1._ HARRY HALL, _in livery as_ JOHN _the + Footman, is reclining on a sofa, reading a magazine. + Penelope, in her cage, is a conspicuous object on the_ + O.P. _side_. + +_John_ (_yawning_). "Nothink in the _Fortnightly_, as per usual. Heigh-ho! +This is slow work. Who's that?" + + _Enter_ BELINDA, _the Nursery-maid. The usual amatory + scene follows. They both disappear, as_ TIFFINGTON + SPINKS _enters made up as_ "Colonel DEBENHAM," _with a + saffron complexion, a grey moustache, a red tie and an + iron-grey wig. He shivers. A great deal of preliminary + applause. He bows with dignity, conscious of his fame, + and proceeds._ + +_Col. Debenham._ "Ugh! how horribly cold this is. I shall have to speak +seriously to SHORTHORN about the state of his fires." + +_Penelope the Parrot_ (_suddenly and with terrible distinctness_). "Old +fool!" [_A titter from the irreverent._ SPINKS _pays no heed to the +interruption._ + +_Lady Surbiton._ How awful! I declare I haven't heard Penelope speak for +six months. I hope to heaven she won't do it again. + +_Mrs. Gagmore._ I thought it sounded so natural. + +_Lord S._ So it did, that's why it was so out of place. He's getting on all +right now, though. + +_Col. Debenham_ (_concluding a peppery soliloquy_). "And as for Lady +SHORTHORN and that spiteful cat of a sister of hers, all I can say of TOM +DEBENHAM is----" + +_Penelope_ (_loudly_). "Old fool!" + + [_Whistles up and down the scale. Much laughter._ + SPINKS _feels that violent measures are necessary if + the piece is not to be utterly ruined. He perceives_ + JARP _standing at the wings made up as_ BINNS _the + Butler. A happy thought flashes on him. He nods + meaningly at_ JARP. + +_Col. Debenham_ (_improvising gag_). "Oh, confound that bird! I must have +it removed. I'll ring for the butler." + + [_Rings. Enter_ JARP _as_ BINNS. + +_Binns._ "'Er Ladyship's compliments, Colonel DEBENHAM, and she would +like----" + +_Spinks_ (_in a whisper of concentrated fury to_ JARP). Not yet; take that +infernal parrot away, quick! + +_Jarp_ (_loses his head; still the Butler is strong within him_). "'Er +Ladyship is served!" + +_Spinks_ (_aloud_). "Oh, nonsense--nonsense, man! You're an idiot. Here, +take this bird, and kill it!" + + [_Seizes cage, thrusts it into the flustered_ JARP'S + _arms, and pushes him off, the Parrot, horribly + frightened, yelling, "Old fool!"_ + +_Lady Surbiton._ How dare he speak of Penelope in that way? Kill her! If +Mr. JARP so much as lays a finger upon her---- + +_Lord S._ She'll bite him. Oh, you may make your mind quite easy about that +parrot. She's bitten every finger of mine to the bone, and I'm certain +she's quite equal to defending herself against JARP. + + _The Act proceeds without any further hitch, until_ + BELINDA _wheels on her double perambulator containing + two red-headed infants, one of whom is terrified into + tears and calls for "Father!" in a shrill voice. After + this everything, however, goes well, and the Curtain + falls amidst thunders of applause._ + + +BEHIND THE CURTAIN. + +_Spinks._ Yes, GUSHBY, I believe you did it. You were closeted with that +parrot for an hour yesterday. I believe you deliberately taught it to say +that, in order to crab my part. What's more, I'm certain of it, for I +distinctly recognised your voice in the parrot's. + +_Gushby._ Pooh! nonsense! If I had taught it to say anything, it would have +been something worse than that, you may be sure. + +_Spinks._ You always were kind. As for JARP, he was in the plot. Otherwise +do you think any man could have made such a fool of himself? + + +IN FRONT OF THE CURTAIN. + +_Lady Surbiton._ That's what I've always said. There's so much _esprit de +corps_ and good feeling amongst Amateurs--none of that wretched jealousy +and bickering which ruins professionals. + +_Mrs. Gagmore._ It is delightful to listen to them, certainly. They all +look and act like perfect gentlemen. All Mr. JARP'S Butlers are splendid. +You can see at a glance that they have only been with good families. + + +BEHIND THE CURTAIN. + +_Hon. B. Boldero._ I fancy we shall have good notices to-morrow in the +_Morning Moonbeam_. I saw PENFOLD laughing immensely. + +_Spinks_ (_down on his luck_). Did you? (_Plucking up a bit._) Well, it +"went" capitally. It was only that blessed parrot. + + [_Goes off intending to buy several copies of next + morning's "Moonbeam."_ + + +IN FRONT OF THE CURTAIN. + +_Mr. Penfold_ (_to his neighbour, a brother journalist_): Are you going to +write anything about this? I have got to do a short notice for the _Morning +Moonbeam_. It's no use abusing these fellows. That's been tried. I'll give +them a little butter this time, and see whether that won't stop them. How +would it do to say something like this?--"We advise the Thespians to keep +clear as much as they can of professionalism. Of course, tradition demands +that the ladies' parts should be played by professionals, but the +introduction of a professional parrot and a professional baby in the First +Act was a mistake, which might have ruined the performance." + + [_His Friend nods approval. Exeunt severally. Imagine + tableau next day. Delight of Amateurs on reading the + notice of their performance in the "Moonbeam."_ + + * * * * * + +HOLIDAY CATECHISM. + +_Mr. P._ Now little Master JACK HORNER, from your corner in Drury Lane, +what plums do you pick out of the Pantomime? + +_Master J. H._ The Hansom Cab and King HARRY (NICHOLLS) returning home +confronted by the Queen, then the GRIFFITHS Cow, the Giant's Dinner and his +Servants, and the Dame LENO'S wonderful Fowl. + +_Mr. P._ What else? + +_Master J. H._ Lots of things, but at the Circus at Covent Garden, the +Shetland Ponies lovely. They come first, so you must be early. + +_Mr. P._ Did you see anything else that pleased you? + +_Master J. H._ I should think so. Such a game! Mlle. GOU-GOU quite shocked +my little sister POLLY, by her strange conduct. But when it turned out that +he was a man, how we laughed! It _was_ funny. + +_Mr. P._ And I suppose you stayed for the Lion? + +_Master J. H._ You may be sure we did! POLLY was a little frightened at +first; but when we found that the Royal Dane Boarhound and the Horse didn't +mind him a bit, why we didn't mind either. Isn't it wonderful? Oh, you +ought to go and see them. They are prime! + + * * * * * + + BARNUM'S MOTTO.--"_Tout à fait La Shows._" + + * * * * * + +MUZZLED AND PUZZLED; OR, "LOVE ME, LOVE MY DOG." + +(_A Carol of Kentish Conservatism. Some way after Goldsmith._) + + + [Illustration] + + + _Good Tories all, of County Kent, + Give ear unto my song, + And spare your puerile intent + To do your Party wrong._ + + * * * * + + There was a mighty Minister, + To power appointed late; + A virtuous and valiant _Vir_, + A Pillar of the State. + + If one who doth fat oxen drive + Should in himself be fat, + This Minister seemed bound to thrive + As to his post most pat. + + A more bucolic personage + Bucolics never sang; + And when he took that post and wage, + All round his praises rang. + + O'er Agriculture to preside, + CHAPLIN was surely born; + He bore his honours with the pride + Of Chanticleer at morn. + + In Kent there were some Tories found, + For Tories still there be; + In fact, the species doth abound + In spite of W. G. + + CHAPLIN and they at first were friends, + But when a feud began + They--whom a little thing offends-- + Rounded on that good man. + + The motto of these Men of Kent + Was, "Love me, love my Dog;" + And soon with angry discontent + The County was agog. + + For CHAPLIN--it was like his cheek, + Cockiest of Ministers!-- + Quite supererogant, did seek + To muzzle Kentish Curs! + + Around to all the counties near + An angry protest ran; + To touch a Kentish dog, 'tis clear, + Touches a Kentish Man. + + Fanatic lovers of the hound + Scorn hygienic laws, + And though their dogs should snap all round + You must not bind their jaws. + + Restraint appeared both sore and sad + To every Kentish eye, + And, whilst they swore the Man was mad, + They swore the Dogs would die. + + Nay, more, there came _this_ fearsome threat + From true-blue Tory throats: + "With muzzles if our dogs you fret, + _You shall not have our votes!_" + + O patriots true! Rads grin with glee! + The puzzle CHAPLIN fogs; + 'Tis plain that Party loyalty + Is going to the dogs! + + Kent's choice 'twixt Party seems, and pup, + The question stirs the town, + Whether the Tories will give up, + Or CHAPLIN will climb down! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: STUDIES IN REPARTEE. + +_Heavyside_ (_Author of "Epaminondas" and other unread Epics_). "BY THE +BYE, HOW MUCH DO _YOU_ WEIGH, BINKS?" + +_Little Binks._ "FOURTEEN STONE!" + +_Heavyside._ "DEAR ME! YOU DON'T LOOK VERY BIG, TO WEIGH ALL THAT!" + +_Little Binks._ "'_EPAMINONDAS_' DOESN'T _LOOK_ VERY BIG--BUT IT'S PRECIOUS +HEAVY!"] + + * * * * * + +SLAPS FOR SLIPPERS. + +SIR,--I am at a loss to understand what is the meaning of all this futile +discussion as to the respective merits of the various kinds of road +pavement. There cannot be a moment's doubt, as to which is, far and away, +the cheapest, the safest, and--in a word--the--best. Without any +hesitation, I maintain that it is the _Asphalte_. And I do not speak +without experience. For many years I have picked mine up from the box-seat +of a hearse, which I think my most virulent opponents will admit, from the +ticklish character of its cattle, accustomed as they are to a stiff, formal +and lugubrious method of progression, affords a test that must be regarded +as supreme by all candid and unprejudiced inquirers into the matter under +dispute. + +_In the wettest weather_ I have never had so much as a slip on the +asphalte, whereas the moment I have got on to the wood, when it has been +_comparatively dry_, I have frequently had the horses down as many as seven +or eight times in half a mile, and on one occasion, that I can recall, the +stumbling was so frequent, that the Chief Mourner stopped the procession, +and sent me an irritable message to the effect that, if I could not manage +to keep my horses more securely on their feet, I had better then and there +"hand over the corpse, and let it finish its journey to the Cemetery on the +top of the first mourning-coach." Fortunately, we came shortly to a bit of +asphalte, on which I was able to bowl merrily along, and make up for lost +time; and, as at length we reached the Cemetery only an hour and +three-quarters after the appointed time, the Chief Mourner, whatever may +have been his disposition to make complaints, had the good taste to keep +them to himself. Still, the incident was annoying, and I attribute its +occurrence simply and solely to that pest of all sure and stately-footed +hacks--_the Wood Pavement_. + + [Illustration] + +Beyond holding three thousand Preference Shares in the _European and +Inter-oceanic Asphalte Paving Company_, and having signed a contract to +supply them for seventeen years with the best Pine Pitch on favourable +terms, I have not the slightest interest to subserve in writing this +letter, which I think any quite impartial critic will allow, curtly, but +honestly, expresses the unprejudiced opinion of + + AN UNBIASSED JUDGMENT. + + +SIR,--I am a private gentleman, who keeps a carriage, or rather, a +four-horse coach, in which I am continually driving about all over London +at full speed. We dash at such a rate over those portions of the Metropolis +that are blessed with a wood pavement that my coachman is frequently +summoned for furious driving, but we have never yet had a horse down. No +sooner, however, do we get to the asphalte than all this is changed. +Leaders and wheelers alike are instantly on their backs, and I have now +made it a rule, the moment we come to a street paved with this dangerous +and detestable composition, to put my horses inside the coach, and, with +the assistance of a policeman or two, drag the vehicle to the other end +myself. Only yesterday, I think it was, on the north side of Leicester +Square, I counted as many as nineteen ugly falls in as many minutes, +necessitating, in nearly every case, the despatch of the creature on the +spot by a shot from a revolver. The fact is, the laying of _asphalte_ +anywhere should be made criminal in a Vestry. I write impartially on this +subject, as, beyond being a sleeping partner in a large firm of Wooden +Road-Paving Contractors, I have no sort of interest to serve, one way or +the other. But it must be obvious, from the account I have given of my own +personal experience above, that in addressing you on the subject, I am +actuated by no motives that are not consistent with and fitting to the +signature of + + AN UNPREJUDICED OBSERVER. + + +SIR,--I am in no way interested in the present pavement controversy, but I +would direct public attention to the real source of all the mischief, and +that is the ineffective shoeing of the unhappy horses, who are compelled to +struggle with the difficulties created for them by a parcel of Paving +Authorities. What we want is a general order issued by the Board of Trade +obliging all horse-owners to provide those they possess with a couple of +pairs of _The Patent India-rubber frog and flannel-soled Horse-Shoes_, +warranted to support the most stumbling beast on any pavement whatever. I +said I was in no way interested in the present controversy, and as I am +merely the Inventor of the shoe above referred to, it must be obvious, that +in making this communication to you, I am only fulfilling the commonest +duties of + + AN ORDINARY SPECTATOR. + + +SIR,--Will not you, or someone, step in and deal with the matter +comprehensively, without paying regard to vested interests? Surely, if the +right people would only put their heads together, they must hit on some +method of bettering the present wretched condition of those much ill-used +but patient and long-suffering creatures, among whom the first to subscribe +himself is + + THE ORDINARY LONDON OMNIBUS HORSE. + + * * * * * + + ANOTHER TITLE FOR THE GUIDE TO THE EXHIBITION AT THE + NEW GALLERY.--"New Edition of the _Tudor's Assistant_." + + * * * * * + + TO BE CREATED A KNIGHT HOSPITALLER.--Mr. PETER REID. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: Another Version of "La Toss-ca." The Cow in the Drury Lane +Pantomime.] + + * * * * * + +THE JUBILEE OF THE PENNY POST. + + "On Jan. 10, 1840, the Penny Post became an + accomplished fact."--_Times_. + + ATTEND, all ye who like to hear a noble Briton's praise! + I tell of valiant deeds one wrought in the Century's early days: + When all the legions of Red Tape against him tore in vain, + Man of stout will, brave ROWLAND HILL, of true heroic strain. + + It was about the gloomy close of Eighteen Thirty Nine, + MELBOURNE and PEEL began to melt, the P.O. "sticks" to pine, + For vainly the Official ranks and the Obstructive host + Had formed and squared 'gainst ROWLAND HILL'S plan, of the Penny Post. + Still poor men paid their Ninepences for sending one thin sheet + From Bethnal Green to Birmingham by service far from fleet; + Still she who'd post a _billet doux_ to Dublin from Thames shore, + For loving word and trope absurd must stump up One-and-four; + Still frequent "friendly lines" were barred to all save Wealth and Rank, + Or Parliamentary "pots" who held the privilege of "Frank;" + Still people stooped to dubious dodge and curious device + To send their letters yet evade the most preposterous price; + Still to despatch to London Town a business "line or two" + Would cost a Connemara peasant half his weekly "screw;" + Still mothers, longing much for news, must let their letter lie + Unread at country post-offices, the postage being too high + For their lean purses, unprepared. And Trade was hampered then, + And Love was checked, and barriers raised--by cost--'twixt men and men. + Then up and spake brave ROWLAND HILL in accents clear and warm, + "This misery can be mended! Read my _Post Office Reform_!" + St. Stephens heard, and "Red Tape" read, and both cried out "Pooh! Pooh! + The fellow is a lunatic; his plan will never do!" + All this was fifty years ago. And now,--well, are there any + Who do not bless brave ROWLAND HILL and his ubiquitous Penny? + One head, if 'tis a _thinking_ one, is very often better + Than two, or twenty millions! That's just why _we_ get our letter + From Aberdeen, or Melbourne, from Alaska or Japan, + So cheaply, quickly, certainly--thanks to one stout-soul'd Man. + + Fifty years since! In Eighteen Forty, he, the lunatic, + Carried his point. Wiseacres winced; Obstruction "cut its stick." + He won the day, stout ROWLAND HILL, and then they made him Knight. + If universal benefit unmarred by bane gives right + To titles, which are often won by baseness or a fluke, + The founder of the Penny Post deserved to be a Duke. + But then he's something better--a fixed memory, a firm fame; + For long as the World "drops a line," it cannot drop his name. + 'Tis something like a Jubilee, this tenth of Janua-_ree_! + _Punch_ brims a bumper to its hero, cheers him three times three, + For if there was a pioneer in Civilisation's host, + It was the cheery-hearted chap who schemed the Penny Post. + And when the croaking cravens, who are down on all Reform, + And shout their ancient shibboleth, and raise their tea-pot storm, + Whene'er there's talk of Betterment in any branch of State, + And vent their venom on the Wise, their greed upon the Great, + _Punch_ says to his true countrymen, "Peace, peace, good friends--be + still! + Reform does _not_ spell Ruin, lads. Remember ROWLAND HILL!!!" + + * * * * * + +A CURIOUS CURE. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH, _January_13, 1890. + +So much attention is now bestowed upon the prevailing epidemic that I will +not apologise for troubling you with a letter detailing a case that has +recently come under my own notice. My eldest son, AUGUSTUS, returned home +from the educational establishment admirably conducted by my eminent and +reverend friend, Dr. SWISHTALE, apparently in excellent health and spirits, +shortly before Christmas Day. On the 4th (just a week before the date fixed +for his return to the educational establishment to which I have referred) +he showed symptoms of influenza. He complained of low spirits, seemed +inclined to quarrel with (and thrash) his younger brothers, and flatly +declined to accompany me to an inspection of the treasures contained in the +Natural Historical Museum at South Kensington. I immediately prescribed for +him a diet of bread and water, and an enforced retirement to bed. He spent +the remainder of the day in loudly-expressed expostulation and lamentation. +On the Sunday (after a consultation with his mother) I decided to adopt a +home treatment of kindness, which I trusted would prevent the necessity of +calling in our family doctor. I give the remainder of the case in diary +form. + +_Monday._--AUGUSTUS very poorly. Complains of pains in his head, arms, +legs, back, nose, and right little finger. Says he has no appetite, but, +urged by his mother, manages to eat for breakfast two sausages and a couple +of eggs. Quite unable to get up; but shortly before two o'clock, on +learning that I proposed visiting the Morning Performance at Her Majesty's +Theatre, expresses his desire to accompany me. He seemed to enjoy +_Cinderella_ thoroughly, in spite of his ailments; but, at the conclusion +of the performance, became so very languid, that we found it desirable to +take a Hansom home. + +_Tuesday._--AUGUSTUS prostrate. Pain in the right little finger +unconsciously shifted to the left little finger. He says he had nightmare +continuously, but "had not slept a wink." Breakfast, of course, in bed. No +appetite for anything save muffins, herrings, and marmalade on buttered +toast. Unable to move until one o'clock, when he thought (at the suggestion +of his mother) that a visit to the Crystal Palace might probably do him +good. The excursion was a happy thought, as certainly he seemed quite +himself at Sydenham. After a hearty dinner from soup and the joint, he once +more seemed languid, and had to be carried home by rail and cab. + +_Wednesday._--AUGUSTUS still very unwell. Seems much troubled at a dream he +has had, in which he apparently died through going back to school. Still +complains of insomnia. Says he did not close his eyes all night. Wished to +"punch the head" (to adopt his own phraseology) of his younger brother for +saying, that he had heard him snoring. However, recovered towards the +evening sufficiently to accompany the rest of the family to the Circus at +Covent Garden. In the theatre appeared more himself, but ill immediately +afterwards. + +_Thursday._--AUGUSTUS (according to his own account) alarmingly ill. Found +by his bedside a medical dictionary (taken from the shelves of my library) +which he says, he had been reading. He thinks, that he has all the worst +symptoms of _delirium tremens_. This is strange, as his habitual drink is +ginger-beer. He complains of pains in his ears, eyes, knees, elbows, and +big toes on both feet. Quite unable to get up before five o'clock, when he +was fortunately, sufficiently recovered to accompany his younger brothers +to a juvenile party and Christmas tree. According to SAMMY (my second son) +AUGUSTUS danced every dance, and served as an assistant to an amateur +conjuror. But this last statement I give with some reserve, as it does not +correspond with the report furnished by AUGUSTUS himself. + +_Friday._--AUGUSTUS at his worst. In the morning he alarmed his mother by a +passionate burst of weeping. He seems to think that, if he goes back to +school to-morrow, he will die immediately. Feeling that this was an +unhealthy state of mind, I took him to the Zoological Gardens in the +afternoon, and must confess that, while there, he appeared to experience a +keen delight in feeding the bears with fragments of newspaper, concealed in +stale buns. But at night his melancholia returned, and he was scarcely able +to eat his dinner. + +_Saturday._--Received a letter from my eminent and reverend friend, Dr. +SWISHTALE, informing me that, in consequence of the prevalence of +influenza, it had been thought advisable to extend the Christmas vacation +for a fortnight or three weeks. On conveying this intelligence to my eldest +son, he seemed to rapidly recover, and has (I am happy to say) been well +ever since. + +Trusting that the history of this singular case may afford some hints and +comfort to parents with children afflicted (as was my dear AUGUSTUS) with a +disease so eccentric in its ramifications as influenza, + + I remain, dear _Mr. Punch_, + + Yours most truly, SIMON SIMPLE WIDEAWAKE. + +_Malinger Villa, Blarney Road, S. W._ + + * * * * * + +VOCES POPULI. + +THE CADI OF THE CURBSTONE. + + SCENE--_A thoroughfare near Hyde Park. Shortly before + Scene opens, an Elderly Gentleman has suddenly stopped + the cab in which he has been driving, and, without + offering to pay the fare, has got out and shuffled off + with a handbag. The Cabman has descended from his seat + and overtaken the old gentleman, who is now perceived + to be lamentably intoxicated. The usual crowd springs + up from nowhere, and follows the dispute with keen and + delighted interest._ + +_Cabman._ Look 'ere, you ain't goin' not without payin' _me_, you +know--where's my two shillings? + +_The Elderly Gentleman_ (_smiling sweetly, and balancing himself on his +heels against some railings_). I'm shure _I_ dunno. + +_Cabman._ Well, _look_, can't yer? don't keep me 'ere all day--feel in yer +pockets, come! + + [_The Old Gentleman makes an abortive effort to find a + pocket about him somewhere, and then relapses into + abstraction._ + +_Crowd._ Let 'im take 'is time, _he'll_ pay yer right enough, if you let +the man alone. + +_A Woman._ Ah, pore gentleman, the best of us is took like that sometimes! + + [_Murmurs of sympathy._ + +_Cabman._ I don't want no more than what's my own. 'E's rode in my keb, and +I want my fare out of 'im--an' I mean '_aving_ it, too! + + [_Here the Old Gentleman, who seems bored by the + discussion, abruptly serpentines off again and is + immediately overtaken and surrounded._ + +_The E. G._ Wha' d'ye mean? 'founded 'perrinence! Lemme 'lone ... 'portant +bishniss! + +_Cabman._ Pay me my fare,--or I'll have your bag! + + [_Seizes bag; the Elderly Gentleman resisting feebly, + and always smiling_. + +_Crowd._ Why can't yer pay the man his fare and have done with it? There, +he's feeling in his pockets--he's going to pay yer now! + + [_Elderly Gentleman dives vaguely in a pocket, and + eventually produces a threepenny bit, which he tenders + magnificently._ + +_Cabman._ Thruppence ain't no good _to me_--two shillings is what I want +out o' _you_--a florin--'j'ear me? + +_The E. G._ (_after another dive fishes up three halfpence_). Thash all +you're 'titled, to--go 'way, go 'way! + +_Crowd_ (_soothingly to Cabman_). 'E'll make it up in time--don't '_urry_ +'im. + +_Cabman._ D' ye think I kin stand 'ere cooling my 'eels, while he's payin' +me a 'apn'y every 'arf 'our? I've got my living to earn same as _you_ 'ave! + +_Crowd._ Ah, he's right there! (_Persuasively to Elderly Gentleman._) 'Ere, +Ole Guv'nor, fork out like a man! + + [_The Old Guv'nor shakes his head at them with a + knowing expression._ + +_Cabman._ Well, I shan't let go o' this 'ere bag till I _am_ paid--that's +all! + + [_Here a Policeman arrives on scene._ + +_Policeman._ Now, then, what's all this? Move along 'ere, all of you--don't +go blocking up the thoroughfare like this! (_Scathingly_.) What are yer all +_lookin'_ at? (_The Crowd, feeling this rebuke, move away some three paces, +and then linger undecidedly._) 'Ere, Cabman, you've no right to lay 'old on +that gentleman's bag--_you_ know that as well as I do! + +_Cabman_ (_somewhat mollified by this tribute to his legal knowledge, +releases bag_). Well, _he_ ain't got no right to ride in my keb, and do a +guy, without paying nothink, 'as he? + +_Policeman._ All I tell _you_ is--you've no right to detain his bag. + +_Cabman._ Let 'im pay me my legal fare, then--two shillings it is 'e owes +_me_. I don't want to hinterfere with 'im, if he'll pay me. + +_Pol._ (_with a magnificent impartality, to the E. G._). What have you got +to say to _that_? + +_The E. G._ (_with a dignified wave of the hand_). Shay? Why, tha' I'm +shimply--a gerrilm'n. + +_Pol._ (_his impartiality gradually merging into official disgust_). Well, +all I can say to _you_ is, if you _are_ one, don't abuse it.... Where are +you going to? + +_The E. G._ (_brimming over with happy laughter_). _I_ dunno! + +_Pol._ (_deciding to work on his fears_). Don't you? Well, _I do_, then. I +know where _you_'re goin' to--ah, and where you'll _be_, too, afore you're +much older--the station-'us!--(_with a slight lapse into jocularity, in +concession to his audience_)--"for one night honly"--that's _your_ +direction, unless you look out. (_With virtuous indignation._) 'Ere are +you--calling yourself a gentleman, and old enough to know better--riding in +this man's keb, and trying to bilk him out of his money. Why, you ought to +be _ashamed_ o' yourself! + +_A Funny Onlooker._ Now, Policeman, why do you interfere? Why can't you +leave them to settle it between them? + +_Pol._ (_turning on him with awful dignity_). I don't want no suggestions +from _you_, Sir. I know _my_ dooty, and them as tries to obstruck me'll get +no good by it. I'm not 'ere to take one man's part more than another. + +_Cabman._ Well, ain't you goin' to do something now you _are_ here? What's +the good of a Copper if he won't 'elp a man to git his rights, eh? + + [_Murmurs of sympathy from Crowd._ + +_Pol._ Now, you mind _your_self--that's what _you_'d better do, or _you_'ll +be gitting into trouble next! I've told you I can't interfere one way or +the other; and--(_generally, to Crowd_)--you must pass along 'ere, please, +or I shall 'ave to make yer. + +_Crowd_ (_to Eld. G._). Give the man his money, can't yer? Pay 'im! + +_Cabman._ Come, look sharp! Just you pay me! + +_The E. G._ How c'n I pay, man? P'fectly 'shurd! Go to bleeshes! + + [_Bolts again, and is once more overtaken by the + indignant Cabman._ + +_Pol._ (_following up_). Now, then, Cabman, don't go hustling him! + + [_Crowd's sympathy veers round to the E. G. again._ + +_Cabman._ _'Oo's_ 'ustlin'? I ain't laid a finger on 'im. +(_Magnanimously._) I've no wish to 'inder 'im from going wherever he likes, +so long as he pays me fust! + +_Pol._ You've no right to touch the man, nor yet his bag; so be careful, +that's all I tell you! + +_The E. G._ (_with maudlin enthusiasm_). Pleeshman's perfelly ri'! +Pleeshman always knowsh besht! + + [_Tries to pat Policeman on back._ + +_Pol._ (_his disgust reaching a climax_). 'Ere, don't you go pawin' _me_ +about--for I won't '_ave_ it! If _I'm_ right, it's more than what _you_ +are, anyhow! Now be off with you, wherever it is you're going to! + +_Cabman_ (_desperate_). But look 'ere--can't you take his name and address? + +_Pol._ (_rising to the occasion_). Ah! that's what I was waitin' for! Now +you've _ast_ me--now I kin _act_! (_Pulls out a pocket-book full of dirty +memoranda, and a stumpy pencil._) Now then, Sir, your name, if _you_ +please? + +_The E. G._ (_sleepily_). Shtupid thing a-do, but qui' forgot.... Come out +'ithout mi' name, 'shmornin'! + +_Pol._ (_sternly_). That won't do with Me, you know. What's your name? Out +with it! + +_The E. G._ (_evidently making a wild shot at it_). FERGUSHON. + + [_Smiles, as if he feels sure the Policeman will be + pleased with a name like that_. + +_Pol._ JOHN? GEORGE? JAMES?--or what? + +_The E. G._ You can purr 'em all down t' me--it don' marrer! + +_Pol._ (_briskly_). Where do you live, Mr. FERGUSON? + +_The E. G._ (_mechanically_). Shirty-one, Lushington Street, Gargleshbury +Park. + +_Pol._ (_writing it down, and giving leaf to Cabman_). There, will _that_ +do for you? + +_Cabman._ That's all _I_ want. (_To the E. G._) You'll 'ear from me later +on. + +_The E. G._ (_affectionately_). Alwaysh pleash'd shee you, any time.... +Pleeshman too.... Shorry can't shtop--mos' 'portant bishnish! + +_Pol._ Which way do you want to go? + +_The E. G._ Earlsh Court. + +_Pol._ Then get there, if you're capable of it. And now, you boys, clear +the road, will you? + + [_The Elderly Gentleman, smiling in the full conviction + of having extricated himself from a difficult situation + with consummate tact and diplomacy, goes off unsteadily + in the direction of Piccadilly, accompanied by a suite + of small boys who have kindly resolved to see him + through any further adventures that may await his + progress. The Cabman remains to discuss the affair at + great length on the curbstone. The Policeman paces + slowly on, conscious that he has worthily maintained + the dignity of his office._ + + [Illustration: A Cab-array.] + + * * * * * + +A CORRESPONDENT, _à propos_ of the prevailing epidemic, writes,--"Sir, +there must have been an epidemic of influenza at Cambridge about +thirty-three years ago, as in a travesty of _Faust_, produced at the A. D. +C. about that time, occurs a parody of the song '_Di Frienza_' from _La +Traviata_, commencing '_Influenza_ is about, So I'll stay no longer out.' +History repeats itself occasionally.--I am, Yours, + + AN INFLUENZIAL PERSONAGE, Trin. Coll. Cam." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE EXPRESSED DIFFERENTLY. + +_Miss Amy._ "AND DO YOU ADMIRE MISS TRAVERS, MR. GOSLIN?" + +_Mr. G._ "YES--AWF'LY! SHE'S SO UNLIKE ALL OTHER GIRLS, DON'TCHERKNOW!!"] + + * * * * * + +PLAIN ENGLISH! + +JOHN BULL _loquitur:_-- + + "ENGLISH as she is spoke," my little friend, + Is not precisely what your pundits deem it. + Let _me_ give you a lesson! This must end. + That flag, however lightly you esteem it, + Has not so long waved folds fair, broad, and ample + To all earth's winds for _you_ at last to trample. + + No! What the mischief is your little game? + Monkeyish tricks help neither power nor dignity. + A little country heir of much fair fame, + I'd like to treat with patience and benignity; + But memories of CAMOENS and DE GAMA + Should save you from the clown's part in earth's drama. + + Clowning it is to caper in this style, + Trying to make a foot-cloth of my banner. + You ought to know the temper of our Isle, + You've tested it in circumstantial manner. + Down before SOULT and JUNOT you'd have gone + But for that very flag, and WELLINGTON. + + Old friends? Of course we are. Old rivals too, + In commerce and adventure the world over. + From JOHN THE GREAT'S time to the present, you + In Africa have been a daring rover; + "The Rover's free"! Ah! that's good lyric brag-- + He is not free to trample on my flag! + + VASCO DE GAMA and CABRAL, no doubt, + Held an exceedingly free hand aforetime. + Cocks of the walk were those adventurers stout, + But then their time was different from your time. + In what you call your "civilising labours," + You'll have to think a little of your neighbours. + + "Prancing proconsuls" often stir up strife, + Which to abate diplomacy must strain. + Your PINTO seems to mean war to the knife-- + He's too much given to the 'Ercles vein. + I'm sure I do not want to hurt your feelings, + I simply say I can't stand SERPA'S dealings. + + Plain English this, my little Portuguee, + And BARROS GOMES will tell you I mean it. + Fight? Pigmy _versus_ Titan? Fiddlededee! + My meaning--without menaces, you'll glean it-- + Is this--I would not hector, no, nor "nag," + Only, my lad--_you'll just come off that Flag!_ + + * * * * * + +LONDON FOR THE LONDONERS; + +_Or, How to Please Everybody_. + +SCENE--_Railway Compartment._ BROWN _and_ JONES _discovered reading +Newspapers._ + +_Brown_ (_putting down his journal_). Not much news, Sir. + +_Jones_ (_following the example_). Quite so, Sir--not much. + +_Brown._ Perhaps, Sir, the most interesting item is this talk about London +Improvement. + +_Jones._ So I think, Sir. But what do we want with this plan for widening +the Strand, and making a road to Holborn? It seems to me, Sir, that the +suburbs are being neglected. + +_Brown._ I agree with you, Sir. Now, if they would develop the North of +London, it would be more to the purpose. If they would run a road direct +from Charing Cross to, say Zanzibar Terrace, Upper Kensal Green, West, it +would really be of service to the public. + +_Jones._ Very likely, Sir--very likely. For my part, it seems to me that +Chiswick also requires a helping hand. The construction of a broad +boulevard running from Charing Cross in a straight line to, say, Upham Park +Road, would tend to show that the County Council justly appreciated its own +responsibilities. And I say this, knowing the necessities of Chiswick, for +in that neighbourhood I happen to reside. + +_Brown._ And I, too, Sir, am equally cognisant of the requirements of Upper +Kensal Green West. As a matter of fact, Sir, I happen to have a comfortable +house in Zanzibar Terrace. + +_Jones._ And I, Sir, a delightful villa in Upham Park Road. + +[_Whistle. Train enters tunnel, and further conversation is drowned by the +rattle of the carriages._ + + * * * * * + +A Musical Anticipation. + + FRED COWEN'S _Viking_ + Sure to be striking. + Think there is luck in + BARTON MCGUCKIN. + + * * * * * + + UNSOUGHT HONOUR.--After his last Birthday, Mr. + GLADSTONE was unanimously elected a Member of "the + Eighty Club." + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: PLAIN ENGLISH! + + JOHN BULL. "LOOK HERE, MY LITTLE FRIEND, I DON'T WANT TO + HURT YOUR LITTLE FEELINGS,--BUT, _COME OFF THAT + FLAG!!!_"] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Jenkinson_ (_to M. F. H., who dislikes being bothered_). +"WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS HORSE?" (_No answer._) "BRED HIM MYSELF, YOU +KNOW!" + +_M. F. H._ (_looking at Horse out of corner of his eye_). "UMPH! I THOUGHT +YOU COULDN'T HAVE BEEN SUCH A SILLY IDIOT AS TO HAVE _BOUGHT_ HIM!"] + + * * * * * + +OLD COLDS FOR NEW. + +(_A Fairy Tale of Anglo-Russian Origin._) + +ONCE upon a time there was a feeble little Ailment called +"Cold-in-the-head," which was treated in the most contemptuous fashion by +its relations. The nearest of its kith and kin--Measles and +Scarlatina--absolutely laughed when its name was mentioned, and scarcely +recognised it as a connection. So Cold-in-the-head had rather a bad time of +it generally. + +One day the feeble little Ailment was wandering aimlessly about in search +of a resting-place, when it came upon an enormous establishment thronged +with thousands of working-men. When the _employés_ are described as +"working-men," it is not, however, quite accurate, for at that moment they +were not working. + +"Why are you idle?" sneezed out little Cold-in-the-head in a tone of +compassion. + +"Because," replied one of the _employés_, rather gruffly, "there is nothing +to do. If you want further information, you had better inquire at that +office." + +And the man pointed to a door bearing the legend, "Editor's Room." The poor +little Ailment entered the apartment, and found a Gentleman seated in front +of a desk covered with papers. The Gentleman was staring before him, and +the ink in his pen had dried up. + +"What do you want?" asked the Gentleman. "And why don't you shut the door +behind you?" + +"I should cease to exist without draughts," explained the poor little +Ailment, "and please don't speak roughly to me, as I want to help you." + +"You help me!" exclaimed the Editor--for the Gentleman was an Editor. "How +can you do that?" + +"I think I can give you a subject." + +"You are very welcome if you can do that," was the reply, "as in this dead +season of the year ideas are as scarce as coals; nay scarcer. But surely, +didn't you do something for the Press ages ago?" + +"That was in the 'forties;' but I am quite different now." + +Then the little Ailment related to the Editor stories of Russia, and the +East, and all sorts of wonderful things. + +"Well," murmured the Editor, after some consideration, "I think you may be +useful, after all, if we are helped by the Doctors." + + * * * * * + +"What a fuss they are making about this new rival of ours!" said Measles, +angrily. + +"Too absurd!" commented Scarlatina, in a tone of annoyance. + +Then there was a grand procession. First came Correspondents, then +Interviewed Physicians, then the General Public. It was a sight that had +never been seen before. In the midst of the excitement an Ailment appeared. + +"Why, bless me!" cried Measles. "Only fancy!" + +"Can I believe my eyes?" shouted Scarlatina. "Why, it's poor little +Cold-in-the-head, that no one used to care a jot about six months ago!" + +"Silence!" said the Ailment, with great dignity. "You must learn to treat +me with the respect due to my exalted station. And please don't call me +'Cold-in-the-head,' for I am known as 'The Russian Influenza!'" + +Then the Ailment turned towards _Mr. Punch_, who (as was his wont) was +smiling, and bade him do homage. + +"Not a bit of it," exclaimed the Sage of Fleet Street, raising a glass of +Ammoniated Tincture of Quinine to his lips, and quaffing merrily a +teaspoonful. "I defy you! You are puffed up with conceit, my poor little +Illness, and when, in a few weeks' time, we have another sensation to talk +and think about, you will sink back into your native obscurity." + +And _Mr. Punch_ (as the event will prove) was--as he always is--entirely +right! + + * * * * * + +AT THE PORTE ST. MARTIN.--If there were ever any question as to the genius +of SARA BERNHARDT, she has now settled it by appearing as _Jeanne d'Arc_, +and showing us what she is Maid of. By the way, as of course she wears +golden or auburn hair, _Jeanne d'Arc_ must appear as _Jeanne_ Light. +Irreverent scoffers may say this is historically correct, as from their +point of view _Joan_ was rather light-headed. Of course, _Joan_ is coming +over to London. Why not to Mr. HARE'S Theatre, and finish the evening with +a prime Garrick Stake. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: MR. PUNCH'S EXHIBITION OF GRAND "OLD + MASTERS."] + + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: "ALL ALIVE!" + + _Cheesemonger._ "WHAT IS IT, MY DEAR?" + + _Little Girl._ "OH, MOTHER'S SENT BACK THIS PIECE O' + CHEESE, 'CAUSE FATHER SAYS IF WE WANTS ANY BAIT WHEN + HE'S A GOIN' A FISHIN', HE CAN DIG 'EM UP IN OUR + GARDEN!"] + + * * * * * + +A COMING BIG BORE. + +_Being a probable Extract from the "City Intelligence" for 1900._ + +THE half-yearly meeting to discuss the Report just issued by the Chairman +and Directors of the Amalgamated International Anglo-French Submarine +Channel Tunnel Railway Company was held in the Company's Fortress Boardroom +yesterday afternoon, and, owing to the present critical Continental +outlook, as might have been expected, succeeded in securing the attendance +of an unusually large number of shareholders. + +The Chairman, who on rising was received with prolonged hooting and a +chorus, again and again renewed _con amore_ by the assembled audience, of +"_And he's a jolly bad fellow!_" having, at length, though frequently +interrupted, obtained something like a hearing, was understood to say, that +he had little to offer in the shape of comment on the Report submitted to +the meeting. (_Groans._) The causes of its unsatisfactory nature were +patent to all. Owing to their having been compelled, in what he now fully +recognised was a slavish and mistaken obedience to a popular clamour (_a +Voice, "You're right!_"), three years ago, in the height of a sudden scare +about invasion--("_Oh! oh!_")--to let the water in and flood the +Tunnel--(_groans_)--they had been occupied ever since in pumping it out +again, and though now he was glad to announce that the last bucketful had +been emptied out, and that the traffic would be resumed +forthwith--(_cheers_)--still the operation had cost them three millions of +money, that they had to get from the market in the shape of Seventeen per +Cent. First Preference Debentures--("_Oh! oh!_")--on which, however, he +trusted that a favourable season's receipts might enable them possibly to +pay a next half-year's dividend of three and sixpence. (_Prolonged +groans._) It was not much; still, it was something. ("_Oh! oh!_") But if +they wished to secure even this modest remuneration for their money, they +must make up their minds, especially at the present moment, when there was +a daily,--he might almost say, an hourly,--expectation of the withdrawal of +their Ambassador from Paris, that there must be no more craven yielding to +delusive impulses of an idiotic patriotism--(_loud cheers_),--in a word, no +more talk about closing the Tunnel on the paltry plea of "national +security." (_Prolonged cheering._) He was glad to hear those cheers. It was +an endorsement of the standpoint that he and his Directors meant to take in +the present crisis, which was, in effect, to remind themselves that they +were shareholders of the Anglo-French Submarine Channel Tunnel Railway +Company first--and Englishmen afterwards--(_thunders of applause, and loud +and prolonged cheering_);--and that, if called upon to shed their life's +blood, it would be solely in defence of that great engineering work, the +true monument of peace, in which their aspirations, their hopes, and, above +all, their capital, had been so fearlessly embarked and largely +invested.(_Renewed enthusiasm._) + +A Shareholder here rose, and said, that if there really was, as the +Chairman seemed to imply, a probability that war with our friendly +neighbours might break out at any minute, would it not be advisable, in the +interests of the Company, to come to some amicable and therefore +satisfactory commercial arrangement for the transit of troops through the +Tunnel, which, no doubt, it would be their first object to +secure.(_Laughter._) There might possibly be some stupid attempt of our own +Government forces to seize upon and even damage, with a view to rendering +the Tunnel useless, the works commanding this end of it. Should not a +Volunteer Corps of Shareholders be at once organised--("_Hear! +hear!_")--for the purpose of keeping them until the French Military +Authorities came over in sufficient force to enable them to seize and +securely hold them against all comers? He trusted he was not wanting in a +well-balanced and legitimate patriotism--("_No! no!_")--but like their +respected Chairman, he felt that there was a higher claim, a louder call +than that addressed to an Englishman by his country, and that was the deep, +grim, stern and stirring appeal made to the Seventeen per Cent. +Debenture-holder by his Company.(_Roars of laughter._) + +Considerable uproar here arose over the ejection from the meeting of a +protesting Shareholder, who injudiciously proposed an Amendment to the +Report to the effect that, "In the face of grave National danger, the +Company ought to be prepared, even if it involved serious financial loss, +to close their Tunnel, if such a step should be regarded as necessary to +the security of the country by the military advisers of the Government." +This proposition was howled down, and the Chairman was again about to +address the now somewhat quieted meeting, when a copy of an evening paper, +announcing the declaration of war, and the simultaneous seizure of the +British end of the Tunnel that morning by two hundred French troops, who +had crossed from Boulogne by yesterday's evening Mail-boat, and had passed +the night at Folkestone in disguise, was handed up on to the platform. + +THE CHAIRMAN (_after reading out the various items of intelligence to the +Audience, who listened to them with breathless excitement_). Well, +Gentlemen, in the face of this not entirely unsuspected +news--(_laughter_)-our course is, I think, pretty clear. We must at once +dispatch a deputation to make the best terms we can with the French General +in command, for the transit of the one or two, or even three hundred +thousand troops they propose to bring over. (_Cheers._) Even if we get only +an excursion fare out of them, it will be something. ("_Hear, hear!_") And, +at least, we shall be able to congratulate ourselves on this occasion with +a sterling and heartfelt satisfaction that, whether the country go to the +dogs or not--(_roars of laughter_)--the property of the Company will, at +any rate, be preserved. (_Enthusiastic applause._) The Chairman, who +continued his address amid mingled cheers and laughter in the same strain, +having submitted the names to form the proposed deputation to the meeting, +the Shareholders dispersed, apparently in the highest spirits, singing a +parody of the great national ditty, in which the line, "_Britons ever, +ever, ever will be knaves_," with an accompaniment of loud guffaws of +laughter, struck the listening ear, as they betook themselves to their +respective homes. + + * * * * * + +THE IRISH QUESTION IN BOND STREET. + +VERY calmly and pleasantly is this matter settled at Messrs. DOWDESWELL'S +Galleries. Mr. O. RICKATSON takes us a mighty pleasant tour through +Wicklow, Wexford, and Waterford. He gives us his views on the Land Question +(Shure there are Sixty-two of them, bedad!) in Water-colours, and very +bright, breezy, and delightful they are. If they _will_ have Home Rule, if +they persist in having Ireland for the Irish, we have no desire to pick a +quarrel with this accomplished _aquarelliste_ (Ha! ha!) for showing us the +beauties of the "distrissful counthry;" and if we are not allowed to have +the real thing, we shall find the peaceful possession of Mr. RICKATSON'S +delightful pictures no mean substitute. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: ENTERTAINING AN ENTERTAINER. + + Mr. Toole, before partaking of all the farewell + luncheons, dinners, and suppers, previous to his + departure for Australia. + + Mr. J. L. Toole after all the farewell lunches, &c., &c. + ***P. & O. Co. won't make any reduction on taking a + quantity.] + + * * * * * + +THE PILFERER. + +TO ALL VOLAPUK-SPEAKING FOLK. + +THERE exists at this moment no institution which even aspires to be to the +Volapuk-speaking world what We were whilst still We remained in +Northumberland Street, and looked after things generally. The wise are few. +The governing minds are never numerous. But We have one, and We have +determined to expand it over a new Monthly Magazine. At the outset We, +being, after all, human, were confronted by the difficulty of finding a +title. Several suggested themselves to a Mind not lacking in scope. A few +may be mentioned. There was the _Filibuster_; the _Summum Bone-'em_; +_Macheath's Miscellany_; the _Monthly Marauder_; the _Eviscerator_; the +_Literary Leech_; the _Monthly Misappropriator_; the _Sixpenny Scoop_. Each +has its particular attraction and appropriateness. But, having submitted +the selection of titles for the consideration of some of the foremost men +of letters, lawyers, soldiers, scientists, and divines of our time, with a +request for an expression of their opinion, we decided upon the title which +appears at the head of these few preliminary remarks. We are the +_Pilferer_, price sixpence, published monthly; a reduction on taking a +quantity. + +The _Pilferer_ will not be a colourless reflection of public opinion for +the time being. It will certainly not be a Party organ, and that for +sufficient reason. Neither Party has at this moment any distinctive body of +doctrine, any well-conceived system of faith, which would justify Us in +labelling Our new monthly with a Party badge. Moreover than which, We have +some reason to believe that neither Party, nor any subdivision of Party, +particularly cares to be associated with Us. We shall therefore be +independent of Party, because, having a very clear, intelligible belief in +Ourselves, We are able to survey the struggles of contending parties from +the standpoint of sublime egotism. We are the man who can interpret the +best thought of his day in such a manner as to render it accessible to the +general intelligence of Our age. We are the true Prophet of Our time, and +We hope to make a modest profit out of Our new venture. Hence, Our first +starting point will be a deep and almost awestruck regard for the destinies +of the Volapuk-speaking race. The American Republic we especially take +under our wing (price of the Magazine in the United States 50 cents.), +whilst we work for the Empire, seek to strengthen it, to develop it, and, +when necessary, to extend it. We believe in Ourselves, in England, and in +Humanity. We are not mad. We do not "hear them dancing in the hall," as +used to happen when HENRY RUSSELL still filled the stage of the Concert +Hall. But we have our mission, which is to hold the world straight, keep +ourselves _en évidence_, and earn a modest living. + +How is this to be done? By the preaching of a man who energises the +activity of the Church by the ideals of chivalry and the production of a +Sixpenny Monthly, made up of pickings from other people's pockets. Visible +in many ways is the decadence of the Daily Press since We left it. The +Mentor of Young Democracy has abandoned philosophy, and stuffs the ears of +his TELEMACHUS with the skirts of CALYPSO'S petticoats, the latest scandals +of the Court, and the prurient purrings of abandoned womankind in places +where you accept the unaccustomed cigar, and drink the unfamiliar +champagne. All the more need, then, that there should be a Voice which, +like that of the Muezzin from the Eastern minaret, shall summon the +Faithful to the duties imposed by their belief. We go into this waste land +to possess it. It is capable of being made to flourish as of old under the +stimulating radiance of a great ideal, and the diligent and intelligent +culture of one who, like Ourselves, has the capacity for direction. + +Who will help Us? There is not a street in London, nor a village in the +country, which is not capable of producing, even at short notice, and under +slight pressure, a man or a woman who will spend two hours a week, every +week in the year, in more or less irksome voluntary exertion in order to +sell the _Pilferer_. To such we say, "If, by canvassing, or otherwise, you +secure, say, six subscribers, the _Pilferer_ shall be sent to you as long +as the six continue their subscriptions." In this case, the subscriptions +should be paid in advance. + +Are there any among the readers of the _Pilferer_ craving for counsel, for +sympathy, and for the consolation of pouring out their soul's grief at so +much a quart, so to speak? If so, may we ask them to communicate with Us? +Their cases, as they submit them, will be placed before such competent and +skilful advisers as We are able to gather round Us from the best men and +women in the Volapuk-speaking world. Their confidences will be printed free +of cost, and, touched up with the literary art that shaped many a spicy +series, are likely to produce copy at once tasty and cheap. We have a heap +of letters and post-cards from eminent persons to whom we submitted the +design lightly sketched above. They may be known as "Some Letters of Marque +to the Editor of the _Literary Privateer_." + + MR. GL-DST-NE. + +DEAR MR. PILFERER,--The idea you suggest appears to me highly useful, as +well as ingenious in relation to all who are able to appreciate it. +Personally I am outside this circle, and so will save my sixpence a month. +I hope you enjoyed your 'bus tour along the Commercial Road? + + Yours faithfully, W. E. GL-DST-NE. + + + Mr. B-lf-r. + + 1, _Carlton Gardens, S.W., Dec._ 12, '89. + +I THINK your scheme ought to prove useful. But isn't there some difficulty +with the original proprietors of the goods? If I can help you in any way, +by putting anyone in prison, pray count upon me. Obstruction must be put +down in any form in which it presents itself. + + Yours faithfully, + + A. J. B-LF-R. + + + EARL OF C-RN-RV-N. + +THERE is, no doubt, a large amount of valuable matter which appears from +time to time in the Magazines, but which, being buried under a mass of +unimportant writing, is overlooked. I have found this in reference to my +own contributions, which have occasionally been passed over by the public, +who have preferred to read the other contents. + + + LORD C-L-R-DGE. + +AT one time of my life I wrote far too many articles to have much opinion +of the ability required to produce them, or their value to anyone when +produced. What I did write was much better than the general run of +articles. Now I do not write, there is nothing in the Magazines. If you can +get it out for nothing, and sell it for sixpence, you will do well. + + + LORD W-LS-L-Y. + + _Ranger's House, Greenwich Park, S.E. Sunday._ + +DEAR MR. PILFERER,--In answer to your note, I have nothing to say of any +interest. + + W-LS-L-Y. + + + LORD T-NNYS-N. + + _Hangford, Freshwater, Isle of Wight._ + +LORD T-NNYS-N presents his compliments to _Mr. Pilferer_, and begs to point +out to him that had he thrust his corporeal presence upon Lord T-NNYS-N +over his garden hedge, or by his area-steps, he would have been +incontinently cast forth by the domestics. Lord T-NNYS-N finds it +impossible to discover any appreciable difference between that step and the +one whereby _Mr. Pilferer_ impertinently, through the medium of the +unsuspecting penny post, forces himself upon Lord T-NNYS-N'S notice, and +impudently begs him to assist him with a gratuitous advertisement for a +commercial undertaking. + + + MR. CHARLEY BATES. + + _Middle of Next Week. Nix Alley, No. 0._ + +DEAR PAL,--Excuse this address, but sometimes it's well not to go into too +many perticklers. I have yours giving me an account of your new lay. As far +as I can make out, there's a lot of tradesmen in London who, at +considerable give out of swag, get swell fellers to write articles for +them. Then _you_ plunge in, romp around, fill your pockets with the pick of +the lot, and go and sell it on your own hook. That's good. But what I like +best is the putting on of the bands and surplice, the taking of the good +book in the right hand, the uprising of the eyeballs, and the general +trotting out of the loftiest principles, the purest motives, and the +general welfare of our brother men. You are a regular wonner, old pal, and +should do; leastways, you have the good wishes of your old friend, + + CHARLEY. + + * * * * * + +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, Volume +98, January 18, 1890, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 21590-8.txt or 21590-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/1/5/9/21590/ + +Produced by V. L. Simpson, Malcolm Farmer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +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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Jan. 18, 1890. +</title> +<style type="text/css" media="screen"> + +* { margin:0% ; padding:0%; } + +body { margin: 5% 15%; } + +p { margin:1.5% 0% 0%; text-align:justify; } +p.ralign { text-align:right; } +p.center { text-align:center; } + +h1,h2,h3 { margin: 3% 0%; text-align: center; } + +img:hover { border:1px solid blue; } +img { border:none; } +img.center { display:block; margin:3% auto; } +img.fleft { float:left; clear:left; padding:3% 3% 0% 0%; } +img.fright { float:right; padding:3% 0% 0% 3%; } + +.fright { float:right; padding:3% 0% 0% 3%; } +.fleft { float:left; clear:left; margin:3% 3% 0% 0%; padding:0% 1% 0% 0%; } + +blockquote { margin:0% 5%; } + +span.pagenum, p.pagenum +{ +position: absolute;left: 1%; +/*position: absolute;right: 1%; */ +font-size: 75%; +font-weight:normal; +font-style:normal; +font-variant:normal; +} +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} +.subtitle { margin:3% 0% 3%; text-align:center; } +.caption { font-size:150%; margin:1% 0%; text-align:center; } + +hr { width:75%; margin:5% auto;} /* Page Separator */ +hr.short { width: 25%; margin:3% auto; } /* Charivari; breaks in an article */ +hr.half { width: 50%; margin:5% auto; } /* Breaks between articles */ +.masthead hr { margin:1% auto; } + +.small-font { font-size:small; } +.poem { display:table; margin:0 auto; } +.stanza { margin:5% 0%; } + +.i2 { margin-left:1em; } +.i4 { margin-left: 4em; } +div.center { width:50%; margin: auto; } +</style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 98, +January 18, 1890, 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, Volume 98, January 18, 1890 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis Burnand + +Release Date: May 23, 2007 [EBook #21590] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by V. L. Simpson, Malcolm Farmer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="masthead"> +<h1>PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + +<h2>VOL. 98.</h2> + +<hr class="half" /> + +<h2>January 18th, 1890.</h2> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p id="pg25" class="pagenum">[Pg. 25]</p> + +<h2>AMONG THE AMATEURS.</h2> + +<h3>No. III.—REALISATION.</h3> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Scene</span>—<i>Theatre Royal, +Blankbury, on the first night of the performance of the well-known +Comedy of</i> "Heads or Tails?" <i>by the "Thespian Perambulators." +Time</i>, 7:50 P.M. <i>A "brilliant and fashionable assemblage" is +gradually filling the house. In the Stalls are many distinguished +Amateurs of both Sexes, including</i> +Lady <span class="smcap">Surbiton</span>, <i>who has brought her +husband</i> and Mrs. <span class="smcap">Gagmore</span> +(Lady <span class="smcap">Surbiton's</span> <i>particular +friend</i>). <i>The rest of the Stalls are occupied by the immediate +friends and relations of the Actors. A few professional Critics are to +be seen. They are addressed with much politeness by the Amateurs in +front of the House, and "played to" with feverish anxiety by the +Amateurs on the Stage. The Orchestra is composed of excellent Amateur +Musicians. The Curtain has not yet risen.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Lady Surbiton</i> (<i>to</i> +Mrs. <span class="smcap">Gagmore</span>). My dear, it's a wonder we ever +got here. <span class="smcap">Charles</span> of course forgot the date, +and told me only yesterday he'd invited some men to stay for a shoot. He +had to listen to reason, though, and so we spent all yesterday sending +telegrams to put them off. I've been at every performance of The +Thespians for years, and it wouldn't do to begin missing them now, would +it?</p> + +<div> +<a href="images/i-025.png"> +<img class="fleft" src="images/i-025th.png" width="217" height="299" +alt="illustration" /></a> +</div> + +<p><i>Mrs. Gagmore.</i> Certainly not, dear, it would have been quite a +calamity. There's the Duchess of <span class="smcap">Middlesex</span> +nodding to you.</p> + +<p><i>Lady S.</i> So it is. (<i>Smiles sweetly at the Duchess, who is +sitting three rows off.</i>) I call it scandalous of her to come out +like this when both her twins have got the measles. Did I tell you I +lent Mr. <span class="smcap">Spinks</span> my pet parrot, Penelope, for +this performance?</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. G.</i> No, dear. I didn't know they ever played it with a +parrot.</p> + +<p><i>Lady S.</i> Well, they don't usually, but +Mr. <span class="smcap">Spinks</span> told me that, after studying the +piece very very carefully, he had come to the conclusion that there +ought to be a parrot in <i>Lady Shorthorn's</i> drawing-room, and he +begged me to lend him mine. Fortunately it scarcely ever talks. Oh, +there's Mr. <span class="smcap">Penfold</span>! How old he's getting to +look. He never seems to have a good word to say for anyone in his +critiques. They're very late in beginning. I hope nothing has happened +to Penelope. Ah! at last.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>The Orchestra strikes up. After a few minutes the +Curtain rises on "the Drawing-room at Bullivant Court." Sc. 1, Act +1.</i> <span class="smcap">Harry Hall</span>, <i>in livery +as</i> <span class="smcap">John</span> <i>the Footman, is reclining on a +sofa, reading a magazine. Penelope, in her cage, is a conspicuous object +on the</i> O.P. <i>side</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>John</i> (<i>yawning</i>). "Nothink in the <i>Fortnightly</i>, as +per usual. Heigh-ho! This is slow work. Who's that?"</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Belinda</span>, <i>the +Nursery-maid. The usual amatory scene follows. They both disappear, +as</i> <span class="smcap">Tiffington Spinks</span> <i>enters made up +as</i> "Colonel <span class="smcap">Debenham</span>," <i>with a saffron +complexion, a grey moustache, a red tie and an iron-grey wig. He +shivers. A great deal of preliminary applause. He bows with dignity, +conscious of his fame, and proceeds.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Col. Debenham.</i> "Ugh! how horribly cold this is. I shall have +to speak seriously to <span class="smcap">Shorthorn</span> about the +state of his fires."</p> + +<p><i>Penelope the Parrot</i> (<i>suddenly and with terrible +distinctness</i>). "Old fool!" [<i>A titter from the +irreverent.</i> <span class="smcap">Spinks</span> <i>pays no heed to the +interruption.</i></p> + +<p><i>Lady Surbiton.</i> How awful! I declare I haven't heard Penelope +speak for six months. I hope to heaven she won't do it again.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Gagmore.</i> I thought it sounded so natural.</p> + +<p><i>Lord S.</i> So it did, that's why it was so out of place. He's +getting on all right now, though.</p> + +<p><i>Col. Debenham</i> (<i>concluding a peppery soliloquy</i>). "And as +for Lady <span class="smcap">Shorthorn</span> and that spiteful cat of a +sister of hers, all I can say of <span class="smcap">Tom Debenham</span> +is——"</p> + +<p><i>Penelope</i> (<i>loudly</i>). "Old fool!"</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Whistles up and down the scale. Much +laughter.</i> <span class="smcap">Spinks</span> <i>feels that violent +measures are necessary if the piece is not to be utterly ruined. He +perceives</i> <span class="smcap">Jarp</span> <i>standing at the wings +made up as</i> <span class="smcap">Binns</span> <i>the Butler. A happy +thought flashes on him. He nods meaningly +at</i> <span class="smcap">Jarp</span>.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Col. Debenham</i> (<i>improvising gag</i>). "Oh, confound that +bird! I must have it removed. I'll ring for the butler."</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Rings. +Enter</i> <span +class="smcap">Jarp</span> <i>as</i> <span +class="smcap">Binns</span>.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Binns.</i> "'Er Ladyship's compliments, +Colonel <span class="smcap">Debenham</span>, and she would +like——"</p> + +<p><i>Spinks</i> (<i>in a whisper of concentrated fury +to</i> <span class="smcap">Jarp</span>). Not yet; take that infernal +parrot away, quick!</p> + +<p><i>Jarp</i> (<i>loses his head; still the Butler is strong within +him</i>). "'Er Ladyship is served!"</p> + +<p><i>Spinks</i> (<i>aloud</i>). "Oh, nonsense—nonsense, man! +You're an idiot. Here, take this bird, and kill it!"</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Seizes cage, thrusts it into the +flustered</i> <span class="smcap">Jarp's</span> <i>arms, and pushes him +off, the Parrot, horribly frightened, yelling, "Old +fool!"</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Lady Surbiton.</i> How dare he speak of Penelope in that way? Kill +her! If Mr. <span class="smcap">Jarp</span> so much as lays a finger +upon her——</p> + +<p><i>Lord S.</i> She'll bite him. Oh, you may make your mind quite easy +about that parrot. She's bitten every finger of mine to the bone, and +I'm certain she's quite equal to defending herself +against <span class="smcap">Jarp</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>The Act proceeds without any further hitch, +until</i> <span class="smcap">Belinda</span> <i>wheels on her double +perambulator containing two red-headed infants, one of whom is terrified +into tears and calls for "Father!" in a shrill voice. After this +everything, however, goes well, and the Curtain falls amidst thunders of +applause.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p class="subtitle smcap">Behind the Curtain.</p> + +<p><i>Spinks.</i> Yes, <span class="smcap">Gushby</span>, I believe you +did it. You were closeted with that parrot for an hour yesterday. I +believe you deliberately taught it to say that, in order to crab my +part. What's more, I'm certain of it, for I distinctly recognised your +voice in the parrot's.</p> + +<p><i>Gushby.</i> Pooh! nonsense! If I had taught it to say anything, it +would have been something worse than that, you may be sure.</p> + +<p><i>Spinks.</i> You always were kind. As +for <span class="smcap">Jarp</span>, he was in the plot. Otherwise do +you think any man could have made such a fool of himself?</p> + +<p class="subtitle smcap">In Front of the Curtain.</p> + +<p><i>Lady Surbiton.</i> That's what I've always said. There's so much +<i>esprit de corps</i> and good feeling amongst Amateurs—none of that +wretched jealousy and bickering which ruins professionals.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Gagmore.</i> It is delightful to listen to them, certainly. +They all look and act like perfect gentlemen. All +Mr. <span class="smcap">Jarp's</span> Butlers are splendid. You can see +at a glance that they have only been with good families.</p> + +<p class="subtitle smcap">Behind the Curtain.</p> + +<p><i>Hon. B. Boldero.</i> I fancy we shall have good notices to-morrow +in the <i>Morning Moonbeam</i>. I saw <span class="smcap">Penfold</span> +laughing immensely.</p> + +<p><i>Spinks</i> (<i>down on his luck</i>). Did you? (<i>Plucking up a +bit.</i>) Well, it "went" capitally. It was only that blessed +parrot.</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Goes off intending to buy several copies of next +morning's "Moonbeam."</i></p></blockquote> + +<p class="subtitle smcap">In Front of the Curtain.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Penfold</i> (<i>to his neighbour, a brother journalist</i>): +Are you going to write anything about this? I have got to do a short +notice for the <i>Morning Moonbeam</i>. It's no use abusing these +fellows. That's been tried. I'll give them a little butter this time, +and see whether that won't stop them. How would it do to say something +like this?—"We advise the Thespians to keep clear as much as they +can of professionalism. Of course, tradition demands that the ladies' +parts should be played by professionals, but the introduction of a +professional parrot and a professional baby in the First Act was a +mistake, which might have ruined the performance."</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>His Friend nods approval. Exeunt severally. Imagine +tableau next day. Delight of Amateurs on reading the notice of their +performance in the "Moonbeam."</i></p></blockquote> + +<hr class="half" /> + +<h2>HOLIDAY CATECHISM.</h2> + +<p><i>Mr. P.</i> Now little Master <span class="smcap">Jack +Horner</span>, from your corner in Drury Lane, what plums do you pick +out of the Pantomime?</p> + +<p><i>Master J. H.</i> The Hansom Cab and +King <span class="smcap">Harry</span> +(<span class="smcap">Nicholls</span>) returning home confronted by the +Queen, then the <span class="smcap">Griffiths</span> Cow, the Giant's +Dinner and his Servants, and the Dame <span class="smcap">Leno's</span> +wonderful Fowl.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. P.</i> What else?</p> + +<p><i>Master J. H.</i> Lots of things, but at the Circus at Covent +Garden, the Shetland Ponies lovely. They come first, so you must be +early.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. P.</i> Did you see anything else that pleased you?</p> + +<p><i>Master J. H.</i> I should think so. Such a game! +Mlle. <span class="smcap">Gou-Gou</span> quite shocked my little +sister <span class="smcap">Polly</span>, by her strange conduct. But +when it turned out that he was a man, how we laughed! It <i>was</i> +funny.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. P.</i> And I suppose you stayed for the Lion?</p> + +<p><i>Master J. H.</i> You may be sure we +did! <span class="smcap">Polly</span> was a little frightened at first; +but when we found that the Royal Dane Boarhound and the Horse didn't +mind him a bit, why we didn't mind either. Isn't it wonderful? Oh, you +ought to go and see them. They are prime!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Barnum's +Motto.</span>—"<i>Tout à fait La Shows.</i>"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p id="pg26" class="pagenum">[Pg. 26]</p> + +<h2>MUZZLED AND PUZZLED; OR, "LOVE ME, LOVE MY DOG."</h2> + +<p class="subtitle">(<i>A Carol of Kentish Conservatism. Some way after +Goldsmith.</i>)</p> + +<div> +<a href="images/i-026.png"> +<img class="center" src="images/i-026th.png" alt="illustration" +width="514" height="550" /> +</a> +</div> + +<div class="poem"> + +<div class="stanza"> +<i>Good Tories all, of County Kent,<br /> +<span class="i2">Give ear unto my song,</span><br /> +And spare your puerile intent<br /> +<span class="i2">To do your Party wrong.</span></i><br /> +</div> + +<p class="i4">* * * *</p> + +<div class="stanza"> +There was a mighty Minister,<br /> +<span class="i2">To power appointed late;</span><br /> +A virtuous and valiant <i>Vir</i>,<br /> +<span class="i2">A Pillar of the State.</span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +If one who doth fat oxen drive<br /> +<span class="i2">Should in himself be fat,</span><br /> +This Minister seemed bound to thrive<br /> +<span class="i2">As to his post most pat.</span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +A more bucolic personage<br /> +<span class="i2">Bucolics never sang;</span><br /> +And when he took that post and wage,<br /> +<span class="i2">All round his praises rang.</span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +O'er Agriculture to preside,<br /> +<span class="i2"><span class="smcap">Chaplin</span> was surely born;</span><br /> +He bore his honours with the pride<br /> +<span class="i2">Of Chanticleer at morn.</span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +In Kent there were some Tories found,<br /> +<span class="i2">For Tories still there be;</span><br /> +In fact, the species doth abound<br /> +<span class="i2">In spite of W. G.</span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="smcap">Chaplin</span> and they at first were friends,<br /> +<span class="i2">But when a feud began</span><br /> +They—whom a little thing offends—<br /> +<span class="i2">Rounded on that good man.</span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +The motto of these Men of Kent<br /> +<span class="i2">Was, "Love me, love my Dog;"</span><br /> +And soon with angry discontent<br /> +<span class="i2">The County was agog.</span><br /> +<br /> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +For <span class="smcap">Chaplin</span>—it was like his cheek,<br /> +<span class="i2">Cockiest of Ministers!—</span><br /> +Quite supererogant, did seek<br /> +<span class="i2">To muzzle Kentish Curs!</span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +Around to all the counties near<br /> +<span class="i2">An angry protest ran;</span><br /> +To touch a Kentish dog, 'tis clear,<br /> +<span class="i2">Touches a Kentish Man.</span><br /> +</div> + +<p id="pg27" class="pagenum">[Pg. 27]</p> + +<div class="stanza"> +Fanatic lovers of the hound<br /> +<span class="i2">Scorn hygienic laws,</span><br /> +And though their dogs should snap all round<br /> +<span class="i2">You must not bind their jaws.</span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +Restraint appeared both sore and sad<br /> +<span class="i2">To every Kentish eye,</span><br /> +And, whilst they swore the Man was mad,<br /> +<span class="i2">They swore the Dogs would die.</span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +Nay, more, there came <i>this</i> fearsome threat<br /> +<span class="i2">From true-blue Tory throats:</span><br /> +"With muzzles if our dogs you fret,<br /> +<span class="i2"><i>You shall not have our votes!</i>"</span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +O patriots true! Rads grin with glee!<br /> +<span class="i2">The puzzle <span class="smcap">Chaplin</span> fogs;</span><br /> +'Tis plain that Party loyalty<br /> +<span class="i2">Is going to the dogs!</span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +Kent's choice 'twixt Party seems, and pup,<br /> +<span class="i2">The question stirs the town,</span><br /> +Whether the Tories will give up,<br /> +<span class="i2">Or <span class="smcap">Chaplin</span> will climb down!</span><br /> +</div> +</div><!-- end .poem --> + +<hr class="half"/> + +<div class="fright" style="width:50%; +border-left:3px double;border-bottom:3px double; +padding:0% 0% 1% 1%; margin:3% 0% 0% 3%;" > + +<a href="images/i-027b.png"> +<img src="images/i-027b-th.png" alt="Illustration" +width="332" height="400" /> +</a> + +<h3>STUDIES IN REPARTEE.</h3> + +<p><i>Heavyside</i> (<i>Author of "Epaminondas" and other unread +Epics</i>). <span class="smcap">"By the bye, how much do <i>you</i> +weigh, Binks?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Little Binks.</i> "<span class="smcap">Fourteen Stone!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Heavyside.</i> "<span class="smcap">Dear me! You don't look very +Big, to weigh all that!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Little Binks.</i> "'<span class="smcap"><i>Epaminondas</i>' +doesn't <i>look</i> very Big—but it's precious Heavy!</span>"]</p> +</div> + +<h2>SLAPS FOR SLIPPERS.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—I am at a loss to understand +what is the meaning of all this futile discussion as to the respective +merits of the various kinds of road pavement. There cannot be a moment's +doubt, as to which is, far and away, the cheapest, the safest, +and—in a word—the—best. Without any hesitation, I +maintain that it is the <i>Asphalte</i>. And I do not speak without +experience. For many years I have picked mine up from the box-seat of a +hearse, which I think my most virulent opponents will admit, from the +ticklish character of its cattle, accustomed as they are to a stiff, +formal and lugubrious method of progression, affords a test that must be +regarded as supreme by all candid and unprejudiced inquirers into the +matter under dispute.</p> + +<p><i>In the wettest weather</i> I have never had so much as a slip on +the asphalte, whereas the moment I have got on to the wood, when it has +been <i>comparatively dry</i>, I have frequently had the horses down as +many as seven or eight times in half a mile, and on one occasion, that I +can recall, the stumbling was so frequent, that the Chief Mourner +stopped the procession, and sent me an irritable message to the effect +that, if I could not manage to keep my horses more securely on their +feet, I had better then and there "hand over the corpse, and let it +finish its journey to the Cemetery on the top of the first +mourning-coach." Fortunately, we came shortly to a bit of asphalte, on +which I was able to bowl merrily along, and make up for lost time; and, +as at length we reached the Cemetery only an hour and three-quarters +after the appointed time, the Chief Mourner, whatever may have been his +disposition to make complaints, had the good taste to keep them to +himself. Still, the incident was annoying, and I attribute its +occurrence simply and solely to that pest of all sure and stately-footed +hacks—<i>the Wood Pavement</i>.</p> + +<div> +<a href="images/i-027a.png"> +<img class="fleft" src="images/i-027a-th.png" alt="illustration" +width="205" height="158" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>Beyond holding three thousand Preference Shares in the <i>European +and Inter-oceanic Asphalte Paving Company</i>, and having signed a +contract to supply them for seventeen years with the best Pine Pitch on +favourable terms, I have not the slightest interest to subserve in +writing this letter, which I think any quite impartial critic will +allow, curtly, but honestly, expresses the unprejudiced opinion of</p> + +<p class="ralign smcap">An Unbiassed Judgment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—I am a private gentleman, who +keeps a carriage, or rather, a four-horse coach, in which I am +continually driving about all over London at full speed. We dash at such +a rate over those portions of the Metropolis that are blessed with a +wood pavement that my coachman is frequently summoned for furious +driving, but we have never yet had a horse down. No sooner, however, do +we get to the asphalte than all this is changed. Leaders and wheelers +alike are instantly on their backs, and I have now made it a rule, the +moment we come to a street paved with this dangerous and detestable +composition, to put my horses inside the coach, and, with the assistance +of a policeman or two, drag the vehicle to the other end myself. Only +yesterday, I think it was, on the north side of Leicester Square, I +counted as many as nineteen ugly falls in as many minutes, +necessitating, in nearly every case, the despatch of the creature on the +spot by a shot from a revolver. The fact is, the laying of +<i>asphalte</i> anywhere should be made criminal in a Vestry. I write +impartially on this subject, as, beyond being a sleeping partner in a +large firm of Wooden Road-Paving Contractors, I have no sort of interest +to serve, one way or the other. But it must be obvious, from the account +I have given of my own personal experience above, that in addressing you +on the subject, I am actuated by no motives that are not consistent with +and fitting to the signature of</p> + +<p class="ralign smcap">An Unprejudiced Observer</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—I am in no way interested in +the present pavement controversy, but I would direct public attention to +the real source of all the mischief, and that is the ineffective shoeing +of the unhappy horses, who are compelled to struggle with the +difficulties created for them by a parcel of Paving Authorities. What we +want is a general order issued by the Board of Trade obliging all +horse-owners to provide those they possess with a couple of pairs +of <i>The Patent India-rubber frog and flannel-soled Horse-Shoes</i>, +warranted to support the most stumbling beast on any pavement whatever. +I said I was in no way interested in the present controversy, and as I +am merely the Inventor of the shoe above referred to, it must be +obvious, that in making this communication to you, I am only fulfilling +the commonest duties of</p> + +<p class="ralign smcap">An Ordinary Spectator</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—Will not you, or someone, step +in and deal with the matter comprehensively, without paying regard to +vested interests? Surely, if the right people would only put their heads +together, they must hit on some method of bettering the present wretched +condition of those much ill-used but patient and long-suffering +creatures, among whom the first to subscribe himself is</p> + +<p class="ralign smcap">The Ordinary London Omnibus Horse</p> + +<hr class="half" /> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Another Title for the Guide to the +Exhibition at the New Gallery.</span>—"New Edition of +the <i>Tudor's Assistant</i>."</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">To be Created a Knight +Hospitaller.</span>—Mr. <span class="smcap">Peter Reid.</span></p> + +<hr /> + +<p id="pg28" class="pagenum">[Pg. 28]</p> + +<div class="fright" +style="width:302px; +border-bottom:3px double; +border-left:3px double; +margin:2% 0% 0% 1%;"> + +<a href="images/i-028.png"> +<img src="images/i-028th.png" alt="illustration" width="301" +height="362" /> +</a> +<p class="center">Another Version of "La Toss-ca." The Cow in the Drury +Lane Pantomime.</p> +</div> + +<h2>THE JUBILEE OF THE PENNY POST.</h2> + +<p class="center">"On Jan. 10, 1840, the Penny Post became an accomplished +fact."—<i>Times</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem" > + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="smcap">Attend</span>, all ye who like to hear a noble Briton's praise!<br /> +I tell of valiant deeds one wrought in the Century's early days:<br /> +When all the legions of Red Tape against him tore in vain,<br /> +Man of stout will, brave <span class="smcap">Rowland Hill</span>, of true heroic strain. +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> + +It was about the gloomy close of Eighteen Thirty Nine,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Melbourne</span> and <span class="smcap">Peel</span> began to melt, the P.O. "sticks" to pine,<br /> +For vainly the Official ranks and the Obstructive host<br /> +Had formed and squared 'gainst <span class="smcap">Rowland Hill's</span> plan, of the Penny Post.<br /> +Still poor men paid their Ninepences for sending one thin sheet<br /> +From Bethnal Green to Birmingham by service far from fleet;<br /> +Still she who'd post a <i>billet doux</i> to Dublin from Thames shore,<br /> +For loving word and trope absurd must stump up One-and-four;<br /> +Still frequent "friendly lines" were barred to all save Wealth and Rank,<br /> +Or Parliamentary "pots" who held the privilege of "Frank;"<br /> +Still people stooped to dubious dodge and curious device<br /> +To send their letters yet evade the most preposterous price;<br /> +Still to despatch to London Town a business "line or two"<br /> +Would cost a Connemara peasant half his weekly "screw;"<br /> +Still mothers, longing much for news, must let their letter lie<br /> +Unread at country post-offices, the postage being too high<br /> +For their lean purses, unprepared. And Trade was hampered then,<br /> +And Love was checked, and barriers raised—by cost—'twixt men and men.<br /> +Then up and spake brave <span class="smcap">Rowland Hill</span> in accents clear and warm,<br /> +"This misery can be mended! Read my <i>Post Office Reform</i>!"<br /> +St. Stephens heard, and "Red Tape" read, and both cried out "Pooh! Pooh!<br /> +The fellow is a lunatic; his plan will never do!"<br /> +All this was fifty years ago. And now,—well, are there any<br /> +Who do not bless brave <span class="smcap">Rowland Hill</span> and his ubiquitous Penny?<br /> +One head, if 'tis a <i>thinking</i> one, is very often better<br /> +Than two, or twenty millions! That's just why <i>we</i> get our letter<br /> +From Aberdeen, or Melbourne, from Alaska or Japan,<br /> +So cheaply, quickly, certainly—thanks to one stout-soul'd Man. +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +Fifty years since! In Eighteen Forty, he, the lunatic,<br /> +Carried his point. Wiseacres winced; Obstruction "cut its stick."<br /> +He won the day, stout <span class="smcap">Rowland Hill</span>, and then they made him Knight.<br /> +If universal benefit unmarred by bane gives right<br /> +To titles, which are often won by baseness or a fluke,<br /> +The founder of the Penny Post deserved to be a Duke.<br /> +But then he's something better—a fixed memory, a firm fame;<br /> +For long as the World "drops a line," it cannot drop his name.<br /> +'Tis something like a Jubilee, this tenth of Janua-<i>ree</i>!<br /> +<i>Punch</i> brims a bumper to its hero, cheers him three times three,<br /> +For if there was a pioneer in Civilisation's host,<br /> +It was the cheery-hearted chap who schemed the Penny Post.<br /> +And when the croaking cravens, who are down on all Reform,<br /> +And shout their ancient shibboleth, and raise their tea-pot storm,<br /> +Whene'er there's talk of Betterment in any branch of State,<br /> +And vent their venom on the Wise, their greed upon the Great,<br /> +<i>Punch</i> says to his true countrymen, "Peace, peace, good friends—be still!<br /> +Reform does <i>not</i> spell Ruin, lads. Remember <span class="smcap">Rowland Hill</span>!!!" +</div> +</div> + +<hr class="half" /> + +<h2>A CURIOUS CURE.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Mr. Punch</span>, <i>January</i>13, 1890.</p> + +<p>So much attention is now bestowed upon the prevailing epidemic that I +will not apologise for troubling you with a letter detailing a case that +has recently come under my own notice. My eldest +son, <span class="smcap">Augustus</span>, returned home from the +educational establishment admirably conducted by my eminent and reverend +friend, Dr. <span class="smcap">Swishtale</span>, apparently in +excellent health and spirits, shortly before Christmas Day. On the 4th +(just a week before the date fixed for his return to the educational +establishment to which I have referred) he showed symptoms of influenza. +He complained of low spirits, seemed inclined to quarrel with (and +thrash) his younger brothers, and flatly declined to accompany me to an +inspection of the treasures contained in the Natural Historical Museum +at South Kensington. I immediately prescribed for him a diet of bread +and water, and an enforced retirement to bed. He spent the remainder of +the day in loudly-expressed expostulation and lamentation. On the Sunday +(after a consultation with his mother) I decided to adopt a home +treatment of kindness, which I trusted would prevent the necessity of +calling in our family doctor. I give the remainder of the case in diary +form.</p> + +<p><i>Monday.</i>—<span class="smcap">Augustus</span> very poorly. +Complains of pains in his head, arms, legs, back, nose, and right little +finger. Says he has no appetite, but, urged by his mother, manages to +eat for breakfast two sausages and a couple of eggs. Quite unable to get +up; but shortly before two o'clock, on learning that I proposed visiting +the Morning Performance at Her Majesty's Theatre, expresses his desire +to accompany me. He seemed to enjoy <i>Cinderella</i> thoroughly, in +spite of his ailments; but, at the conclusion of the performance, became +so very languid, that we found it desirable to take a Hansom home.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—<span class="smcap">Augustus</span> prostrate. +Pain in the right little finger unconsciously shifted to the left little +finger. He says he had nightmare continuously, but "had not slept a +wink." Breakfast, of course, in bed. No appetite for anything save +muffins, herrings, and marmalade on buttered toast. Unable to move until +one o'clock, when he thought (at the suggestion of his mother) that a +visit to the Crystal Palace might probably do him good. The excursion +was a happy thought, as certainly he seemed quite himself at Sydenham. +After a hearty dinner from soup and the joint, he once more seemed +languid, and had to be carried home by rail and cab.</p> + +<p><i>Wednesday.</i>—<span class="smcap">Augustus</span> still +very unwell. Seems much troubled at a dream he has had, in which he +apparently died through going back to school. Still complains of +insomnia. Says he did not close his eyes all night. Wished to "punch the +head" (to adopt his own phraseology) of his younger brother for saying, +that he had heard him snoring. However, recovered towards the evening +sufficiently to accompany the rest of the family to the Circus at Covent +Garden. In the theatre appeared more himself, but ill immediately +afterwards.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday.</i>—<span class="smcap">Augustus</span> (according +to his own account) alarmingly ill. Found by his bedside a medical +dictionary (taken from the shelves of my library) which he says, he had +been reading. He thinks, that he has all the worst symptoms +of <i>delirium tremens</i>. This is strange, as his habitual drink is +ginger-beer. He complains of pains in his ears, eyes, knees, elbows, and +big toes on both feet. Quite unable to get up before five o'clock, when +he was fortunately, sufficiently recovered to accompany his younger +brothers to a juvenile party and Christmas tree. According +to <span class="smcap">Sammy</span> (my second son) +<span class="smcap">Augustus</span> danced every dance, and served as an +assistant to an amateur conjuror. But this last statement I give with +some reserve, as it does not correspond with the report furnished +by <span class="smcap">Augustus</span> himself.</p> + +<p><i>Friday.</i>—<span class="smcap">Augustus</span> at his +worst. In the morning he alarmed his mother by a passionate burst of +weeping. He seems to think that, if he goes back to school to-morrow, he +will die immediately. Feeling that this was an unhealthy state of mind, +I took him to the Zoological Gardens in the afternoon, and must confess +that, while there, he appeared to experience a keen delight in feeding +the bears with fragments of newspaper, concealed in stale buns. But at +night his melancholia returned, and he was scarcely able to eat his +dinner.</p> + +<p><i>Saturday.</i>—Received a letter from my eminent and reverend +friend, Dr. <span class="smcap">Swishtale</span>, informing me that, in +consequence of the prevalence of influenza, it had been thought +advisable to extend the Christmas vacation for a fortnight or three +weeks. On conveying this intelligence to my eldest son, he seemed to +rapidly recover, and has (I am happy to say) been well ever since.</p> + +<p>Trusting that the history of this singular case may afford some hints +and comfort to parents with children afflicted (as was my dear +<span class="smcap">Augustus</span>) with a disease so eccentric in its ramifications as +influenza,</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>I remain, dear <i>Mr. Punch</i>,<br /> +Yours most truly, <span class="smcap">Simon Simple Wideawake</span>.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p><i>Malinger Villa, Blarney Road, S. W.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p id="pg29" class="pagenum">[Pg. 29]</p> + +<h2>VOCES POPULI.</h2> + +<p class="center">THE CADI OF THE CURBSTONE.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Scene</span>—<i>A thoroughfare +near Hyde Park. Shortly before Scene opens, an Elderly Gentleman has +suddenly stopped the cab in which he has been driving, and, without +offering to pay the fare, has got out and shuffled off with a handbag. +The Cabman has descended from his seat and overtaken the old gentleman, +who is now perceived to be lamentably intoxicated. The usual crowd +springs up from nowhere, and follows the dispute with keen and delighted +interest.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Cabman.</i> Look 'ere, you ain't goin' not without +payin' <i>me</i>, you know—where's my two shillings?</p> + +<div> +<a href="images/i-029.png"> +<img class="center" src="images/i-029th.png" alt="illustration" +width="360" height="157" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p class="center">A Cab-array.</p> + +<p><i>The Elderly Gentleman</i> (<i>smiling sweetly, and balancing himself +on his heels against some railings</i>). I'm shure <i>I</i> dunno.</p> + +<p><i>Cabman.</i> Well, <i>look</i>, can't yer? don't keep me 'ere all +day—feel in yer pockets, come!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>The Old Gentleman makes an abortive effort to find a +pocket about him somewhere, and then relapses into +abstraction.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Crowd.</i> Let 'im take 'is time, <i>he'll</i> pay yer right +enough, if you let the man alone.</p> + +<p><i>A Woman.</i> Ah, pore gentleman, the best of us is took like that +sometimes!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Murmurs of sympathy.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Cabman.</i> I don't want no more than what's my own. 'E's rode in +my keb, and I want my fare out of 'im—an' I mean '<i>aving</i> it, +too!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Here the Old Gentleman, who seems bored by the +discussion, abruptly serpentines off again and is immediately overtaken +and surrounded.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>The E. G.</i> Wha' d'ye mean? 'founded 'perrinence! Lemme 'lone +... 'portant bishniss!</p> + +<p><i>Cabman</i>. Pay me my fare,—or I'll have your bag!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Seizes bag; the Elderly Gentleman resisting feebly, +and always smiling</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Crowd.</i> Why can't yer pay the man his fare and have done with +it? There, he's feeling in his pockets—he's going to pay yer +now!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Elderly Gentleman dives vaguely in a pocket, and +eventually produces a threepenny bit, which he tenders +magnificently.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Cabman.</i> Thruppence ain't no good <i>to me</i>—two +shillings is what I want out o' <i>you</i>—a florin—'j'ear +me?</p> + +<p><i>The E. G.</i> (<i>after another dive fishes up three +halfpence</i>). Thash all you're 'titled, to—go 'way, go 'way!</p> + +<p><i>Crowd</i> (<i>soothingly to Cabman</i>). 'E'll make it up in +time—don't '<i>urry</i> 'im.</p> + +<p><i>Cabman.</i> D' ye think I kin stand 'ere cooling my 'eels, while +he's payin' me a 'apn'y every 'arf 'our? I've got my living to earn same +as <i>you</i> 'ave!</p> + +<p><i>Crowd.</i> Ah, he's right there! (<i>Persuasively to Elderly +Gentleman.</i>) 'Ere, Ole Guv'nor, fork out like a man!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>The Old Guv'nor shakes his head at them with a +knowing expression.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Cabman.</i> Well, I shan't let go o' this 'ere bag till +I <i>am</i> paid—that's all!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Here a Policeman arrives on +scene.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Policeman.</i> Now, then, what's all this? Move along 'ere, all of +you—don't go blocking up the thoroughfare like this! +(<i>Scathingly</i>.) What are yer all <i>lookin'</i> at? (<i>The Crowd, +feeling this rebuke, move away some three paces, and then linger +undecidedly.</i>) 'Ere, Cabman, you've no right to lay 'old on that +gentleman's bag—<i>you</i> know that as well as I do!</p> + +<p><i>Cabman</i> (<i>somewhat mollified by this tribute to his legal +knowledge, releases bag</i>). Well, <i>he</i> ain't got no right to ride +in my keb, and do a guy, without paying nothink, 'as he?</p> + +<p><i>Policeman.</i> All I tell <i>you</i> is—you've no right to +detain his bag.</p> + +<p><i>Cabman.</i> Let 'im pay me my legal fare, then—two shillings +it is 'e owes <i>me</i>. I don't want to hinterfere with 'im, if he'll +pay me.</p> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> (<i>with a magnificent impartality, to the E. G.</i>). +What have you got to say to <i>that</i>?</p> + +<p><i>The E. G.</i> (<i>with a dignified wave of the hand</i>). Shay? +Why, tha' I'm shimply—a gerrilm'n.</p> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> (<i>his impartiality gradually merging into official +disgust</i>). Well, all I can say to <i>you</i> is, if you <i>are</i> +one, don't abuse it.... Where are you going to?</p> + +<p><i>The E. G.</i> (<i>brimming over with happy laughter</i>). <i>I</i> +dunno!</p> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> (<i>deciding to work on his fears</i>). Don't you? +Well, <i>I do</i>, then. I know where <i>you</i>'re goin' to—ah, +and where you'll <i>be</i>, too, afore you're much older—the +station-'us!—(<i>with a slight lapse into jocularity, in +concession to his audience</i>)—"for one night honly"—that's +<i>your</i> direction, unless you look out. (<i>With virtuous indignation.</i>) +'Ere are you—calling yourself a gentleman, and old enough +to know better—riding in this man's keb, and trying to bilk him out +of his money. Why, you ought to be <i>ashamed</i> o' yourself!</p> + +<p><i>A Funny Onlooker.</i> Now, Policeman, why do you interfere? Why +can't you leave them to settle it between them?</p> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> (<i>turning on him with awful dignity</i>). I don't want +no suggestions from <i>you</i>, Sir. I know <i>my</i> dooty, and them as +tries to obstruck me'll get no good by it. I'm not 'ere to take one +man's part more than another.</p> + +<p><i>Cabman.</i> Well, ain't you goin' to do something now +you <i>are</i> here? What's the good of a Copper if he won't 'elp a man +to git his rights, eh?</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Murmurs of sympathy from Crowd.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> Now, you mind <i>your</i>self—that's +what <i>you</i>'d better do, or +<i>you</i>'ll be gitting into trouble next! I've told you I can't interfere +one way or the other; and—(<i>generally, to Crowd</i>)—you must pass +along 'ere, please, or I shall 'ave to make yer.</p> + +<p><i>Crowd</i> (<i>to Eld. G.</i>). Give the man his money, can't yer? +Pay 'im!</p> + +<p><i>Cabman.</i> Come, look sharp! Just you pay me!</p> + +<p><i>The E. G.</i> How c'n I pay, man? P'fectly 'shurd! Go to +bleeshes!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Bolts again, and is once more overtaken by the +indignant Cabman.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> (<i>following up</i>). Now, then, Cabman, don't go +hustling him!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Crowd's sympathy veers round to the E. G. +again.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Cabman.</i> <i>'Oo's</i> 'ustlin'? I ain't laid a finger on 'im. +(<i>Magnanimously.</i>) I've no wish to 'inder 'im from going wherever +he likes, so long as he pays me fust!</p> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> You've no right to touch the man, nor yet his bag; so be +careful, that's all I tell you!</p> + +<p><i>The E. G.</i> (<i>with maudlin enthusiasm</i>). Pleeshman's +perfelly ri'! Pleeshman always knowsh besht!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Tries to pat Policeman on back.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> (<i>his disgust reaching a climax</i>). 'Ere, don't you +go pawin' <i>me</i> about—for I won't '<i>ave</i> it! +If <i>I'm</i> right, it's more than what <i>you</i> are, anyhow! Now be +off with you, wherever it is you're going to!</p> + +<p><i>Cabman</i> (<i>desperate</i>). But look 'ere—can't you take +his name and address?</p> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> (<i>rising to the occasion</i>). Ah! that's what I was +waitin' for! Now you've <i>ast</i> me—now I kin <i>act</i>! +(<i>Pulls out a pocket-book full of dirty memoranda, and a stumpy +pencil.</i>) Now then, Sir, your name, if <i>you</i> please?</p> + +<p><i>The E. G.</i> (<i>sleepily</i>). Shtupid thing a-do, but qui' +forgot.... Come out 'ithout mi' name, 'shmornin'!</p> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> (<i>sternly</i>). That won't do with Me, you know. What's +your name? Out with it!</p> + +<p><i>The E. G.</i> (<i>evidently making a wild shot at +it</i>). <span class="smcap">Fergushon</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Smiles, as if he feels sure the Policeman will be +pleased with a name like that</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> <span +class="smcap">John</span>? <span +class="smcap">George</span>? <span class="smcap">James</span>?—or +what?</p> + +<p><i>The E. G.</i> You can purr 'em all down t' me—it don' +marrer!</p> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> (<i>briskly</i>). Where do you live, +Mr. <span class="smcap">Ferguson</span>?</p> + +<p><i>The E. G.</i> (<i>mechanically</i>). Shirty-one, Lushington +Street, Gargleshbury Park.</p> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> (<i>writing it down, and giving leaf to Cabman</i>). +There, will <i>that</i> do for you?</p> + +<p><i>Cabman.</i> That's all <i>I</i> want. (<i>To the E. G.</i>) You'll 'ear from +me later on.</p> + +<p><i>The E. G.</i> (<i>affectionately</i>). Alwaysh pleash'd shee you, +any time.... Pleeshman too.... Shorry can't shtop—mos' 'portant +bishnish!</p> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> Which way do you want to go?</p> + +<p><i>The E. G.</i> Earlsh Court.</p> + +<p><i>Pol.</i> Then get there, if you're capable of it. And now, you +boys, clear the road, will you?</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>The Elderly Gentleman, smiling in the full conviction +of having extricated himself from a difficult situation with consummate +tact and diplomacy, goes off unsteadily in the direction of Piccadilly, +accompanied by a suite of small boys who have kindly resolved to see him +through any further adventures that may await his progress. The Cabman +remains to discuss the affair at great length on the curbstone. The +Policeman paces slowly on, conscious that he has worthily maintained the +dignity of his office.</i></p></blockquote> + +<hr class="half" /> + +<blockquote> +<p>A <span class="smcap">Correspondent</span>, <i>à propos</i> of +the prevailing epidemic, writes,—"Sir, there must have been an +epidemic of influenza at Cambridge about thirty-three years ago, as in a +travesty of <i>Faust</i>, produced at the A. D. C. about that time, +occurs a parody of the song '<i>Di Frienza</i>' from <i>La Traviata</i>, +commencing '<i>Influenza</i> is about, So I'll stay no longer out.' +History repeats itself occasionally.—I am, Yours,</p> + +<p class="ralign"><span class="smcap">An Influenzial Personage</span>, +Trin. Coll. Cam."</p> +</blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<p id="pg30" class="pagenum">[Pg.30]</p> + +<div> +<a href="images/i-030.png"> +<img class="center" src="images/i-030th.png" alt="illustration" +width="618" height="404" /> +</a> + +<h3>THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE EXPRESSED DIFFERENTLY.</h3> + +<p><i>Miss Amy.</i> "<span class="smcap">And do you admire Miss Travers, +Mr. Goslin?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Mr. G.</i> "<span class="smcap">Yes—awf'ly! She's so unlike +all other girls, don'tcherknow</span>!!"</p> +</div> + +<hr class="half" /> + +<h2>PLAIN ENGLISH!</h2> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">John +Bull</span> <i>loquitur:</i>—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +"<span class="smcap">English</span> as she is spoke," my little friend,<br /> +<span class="i2">Is not precisely what your pundits deem it.</span><br /> +Let <i>me</i> give you a lesson! This must end.<br /> +<span class="i2">That flag, however lightly you esteem it,</span><br /> +Has not so long waved folds fair, broad, and ample<br /> +To all earth's winds for <i>you</i> at last to trample. +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +No! What the mischief is your little game?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Monkeyish tricks help neither power nor dignity.</span><br /> +A little country heir of much fair fame,<br /> +<span class="i2">I'd like to treat with patience and benignity;</span><br /> +But memories of <span class="smcap">Camoens</span> and <span class="smcap">De Gama</span><br /> +Should save you from the clown's part in earth's drama. +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +Clowning it is to caper in this style,<br /> +<span class="i2">Trying to make a foot-cloth of my banner.</span><br /> +You ought to know the temper of our Isle,<br /> +<span class="i2">You've tested it in circumstantial manner.</span><br /> +Down before <span class="smcap">Soult</span> and <span class="smcap">Junot</span> you'd have gone<br /> +But for that very flag, and <span class="smcap">Wellington</span>. +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +Old friends? Of course we are. Old rivals too,<br /> +<span class="i2">In commerce and adventure the world over.</span><br /> +From <span class="smcap">John the Great's</span> time to the present, you<br /> +<span class="i2">In Africa have been a daring rover;</span><br /> +"The Rover's free"! Ah! that's good lyric brag—<br /> +He is not free to trample on my flag! +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="smcap">Vasco de Gama</span> and <span class="smcap">Cabral</span>, no doubt,<br /> +<span class="i2">Held an exceedingly free hand aforetime.</span><br /> +Cocks of the walk were those adventurers stout,<br /> +<span class="i2">But then their time was different from your time.</span><br /> +In what you call your "civilising labours,"<br /> +You'll have to think a little of your neighbours. +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +"Prancing proconsuls" often stir up strife,<br /> +<span class="i2">Which to abate diplomacy must strain.</span><br /> +Your <span class="smcap">Pinto</span> seems to mean war to the knife—<br /> +<span class="i2">He's too much given to the 'Ercles vein.</span><br /> +I'm sure I do not want to hurt your feelings,<br /> +I simply say I can't stand <span class="smcap">Serpa's</span> dealings. +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +Plain English this, my little Portuguee,<br /> +<span class="i2">And <span class="smcap">Barros Gomes</span> will tell you I mean it.</span><br /> +Fight? Pigmy <i>versus</i> Titan? Fiddlededee!<br /> +<span class="i2">My meaning—without menaces, you'll glean it—</span><br /> +Is this—I would not hector, no, nor "nag,"<br /> +<span class="i2">Only, my lad—<i>you'll just come off that Flag!</i></span> +</div> + +</div><!-- end .poem --> + +<hr class="half" /> + +<h2>LONDON FOR THE LONDONERS;</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Or, How to Please Everybody</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene</span>—<i>Railway +Compartment.</i> <span class="smcap">Brown</span> <i>and</i> +<span class="smcap">Jones</span> <i>discovered reading Newspapers.</i></p> + +<p><i>Brown</i> (<i>putting down his journal</i>). Not much news, +Sir.</p> + +<p><i>Jones</i> (<i>following the example</i>). Quite so, Sir—not +much.</p> + +<p><i>Brown.</i> Perhaps, Sir, the most interesting item is this talk +about London Improvement.</p> + +<p><i>Jones.</i> So I think, Sir. But what do we want with this plan for +widening the Strand, and making a road to Holborn? It seems to me, Sir, +that the suburbs are being neglected.</p> + +<p><i>Brown.</i> I agree with you, Sir. Now, if they would develop the +North of London, it would be more to the purpose. If they would run a +road direct from Charing Cross to, say Zanzibar Terrace, Upper Kensal +Green, West, it would really be of service to the public.</p> + +<p><i>Jones.</i> Very likely, Sir—very likely. For my part, it +seems to me that Chiswick also requires a helping hand. The construction +of a broad boulevard running from Charing Cross in a straight line to, +say, Upham Park Road, would tend to show that the County Council justly +appreciated its own responsibilities. And I say this, knowing the +necessities of Chiswick, for in that neighbourhood I happen to +reside.</p> + +<p><i>Brown.</i> And I, too, Sir, am equally cognisant of the +requirements of Upper Kensal Green West. As a matter of fact, Sir, I +happen to have a comfortable house in Zanzibar Terrace.</p> + +<p><i>Jones.</i> And I, Sir, a delightful villa in Upham Park Road.</p> + +<p>[<i>Whistle. Train enters tunnel, and further conversation is drowned +by the rattle of the carriages.</i></p> + +<hr class="half"/> + +<h3>A Musical Anticipation.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> +<span class="smcap">Fred Cowen's</span> <i>Viking</i><br /> +Sure to be striking.<br /> +Think there is luck in<br /> +<span class="smcap">Barton McGuckin.</span> +</div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Unsought Honour.</span>—After +his last Birthday, Mr. <span class="smcap">Gladstone</span> was +unanimously elected a Member of "the Eighty Club."</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<p id="pg31" class="pagenum">[Pg. 31]</p> +<div style="width:70%;margin:auto;"> +<a href="images/i-031.png"> +<img class="center" src="images/i-031th.png" alt="illustration" +width="426" height="550" /> +</a> + +<h3>PLAIN ENGLISH!</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">John Bull.</span> "LOOK HERE, MY LITTLE FRIEND, I +DON'T WANT TO HURT YOUR LITTLE FEELINGS,—BUT, <i>COME OFF THAT +FLAG!!!</i>"</p> + +</div> + +<p id="pg32" class="pagenum"> [Pg. 32]</p> +<hr /> + +<p id="pg33" class="pagenum"> [Pg. 33]</p> + +<div> +<a href="images/i-033.png"> +<img class="center" src="images/i-033th.png" alt="illustration" +width="619" height="402" /> +</a> + +<p><i>Jenkinson</i> (<i>to M. F. H., who dislikes being bothered</i>). +"<span class="smcap">What do you think of this Horse</span>?" (<i>No +answer.</i>) "<span class="smcap">Bred him myself, you know!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>M. F. H.</i> (<i>looking at Horse out of corner of his eye</i>). +"<span class="smcap">Umph! I thought you couldn't have been such a silly +Idiot as to have <i>Bought</i> him!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OLD COLDS FOR NEW.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>A Fairy Tale of Anglo-Russian Origin.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Once</span> upon a time there was a feeble little +Ailment called "Cold-in-the-head," which was treated in the most +contemptuous fashion by its relations. The nearest of its kith and +kin—Measles and Scarlatina—absolutely laughed when its name +was mentioned, and scarcely recognised it as a connection. So +Cold-in-the-head had rather a bad time of it generally.</p> + +<p>One day the feeble little Ailment was wandering aimlessly about +in search of a resting-place, when it came upon an enormous establishment +thronged with thousands of working-men. When the +<i>employés</i> are described as "working-men," it is not, +however, quite accurate, for at that moment they were not working.</p> + +<p>"Why are you idle?" sneezed out little Cold-in-the-head in a tone of +compassion.</p> + +<p>"Because," replied one of the <i>employés</i>, rather gruffly, +"there is nothing to do. If you want further information, you had better +inquire at that office."</p> + +<p>And the man pointed to a door bearing the legend, "Editor's Room." +The poor little Ailment entered the apartment, and found a Gentleman +seated in front of a desk covered with papers. The Gentleman was staring +before him, and the ink in his pen had dried up.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" asked the Gentleman. "And why don't you shut the +door behind you?"</p> + +<p>"I should cease to exist without draughts," explained the poor little +Ailment, "and please don't speak roughly to me, as I want to help +you."</p> + +<p>"You help me!" exclaimed the Editor—for the Gentleman was an +Editor. "How can you do that?"</p> + +<p>"I think I can give you a subject."</p> + +<p>"You are very welcome if you can do that," was the reply, "as in this +dead season of the year ideas are as scarce as coals; nay scarcer. But +surely, didn't you do something for the Press ages ago?"</p> + +<p>"That was in the 'forties;' but I am quite different now."</p> + +<p>Then the little Ailment related to the Editor stories of Russia, and +the East, and all sorts of wonderful things.</p> + +<p>"Well," murmured the Editor, after some consideration, "I think you +may be useful, after all, if we are helped by the Doctors."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"What a fuss they are making about this new rival of ours!" said +Measles, angrily.</p> + +<p>"Too absurd!" commented Scarlatina, in a tone of annoyance.</p> + +<p>Then there was a grand procession. First came Correspondents, then +Interviewed Physicians, then the General Public. It was a sight that had +never been seen before. In the midst of the excitement an Ailment +appeared.</p> + +<p>"Why, bless me!" cried Measles. "Only fancy!"</p> + +<p>"Can I believe my eyes?" shouted Scarlatina. "Why, it's poor little +Cold-in-the-head, that no one used to care a jot about six months +ago!"</p> + +<p>"Silence!" said the Ailment, with great dignity. "You must learn to +treat me with the respect due to my exalted station. And please don't +call me 'Cold-in-the-head,' for I am known as 'The Russian +Influenza!'"</p> + +<p>Then the Ailment turned towards <i>Mr. Punch</i>, who (as was his +wont) was smiling, and bade him do homage.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it," exclaimed the Sage of Fleet Street, raising a +glass of Ammoniated Tincture of Quinine to his lips, and quaffing +merrily a teaspoonful. "I defy you! You are puffed up with conceit, my +poor little Illness, and when, in a few weeks' time, we have another +sensation to talk and think about, you will sink back into your native +obscurity."</p> + +<p>And <i>Mr. Punch</i> (as the event will prove) was—as he always +is—entirely right!</p> + +<hr class="half" /> + +<blockquote> +<p><span class="smcap">At the Porte St. Martin.</span>—If there +were ever any question as to the genius of <span class="smcap">Sara +Bernhardt</span>, she has now settled it by appearing as <i>Jeanne +d'Arc</i>, and showing us what she is Maid of. By the way, as of course +she wears golden or auburn hair, <i>Jeanne d'Arc</i> must appear +as <i>Jeanne</i> Light. Irreverent scoffers may say this is historically +correct, as from their point of view <i>Joan</i> was rather +light-headed. Of course, <i>Joan</i> is coming over to London. Why not +to Mr. <span class="smcap">Hare's</span> Theatre, and finish the evening +with a prime Garrick Stake.</p> +</blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<p id="pg34" class="pagenum">[Pg. 34]</p> + +<div> +<a href="images/i-034.png"> +<img class="center" src="images/i-034th.png" alt="illustration" +width="400" height="531" /> +</a> +<h3>MR. PUNCH'S EXHIBITION OF GRAND "OLD MASTERS."</h3> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p id="pg35" class="pagenum">[Pg. 35]</p> + +<div class="fleft" +style="width:337px; border-bottom:3px double;border-right:3px double; +padding:0 1% 1% 0%;"> + +<a href="images/i-035.png"> +<img src="images/i-035th.png" alt="illustration" width="337" +height="394"/> +</a> + +<h3> "ALL ALIVE!"</h3> + +<p><i>Cheesemonger.</i> <span class="smcap">"What is it, my +Dear?"</span></p> + +<p><i>Little Girl.</i> "<span class="smcap">Oh, Mother's sent back this +piece o' Cheese, 'cause Father Says If we wants any Bait when he's a +goin' a Fishin', he can dig 'em up in our Garden</span>!"</p> +</div> + +<h2>A COMING BIG BORE.</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Being a probable Extract from the "City +Intelligence" for 1900.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> half-yearly meeting to discuss the +Report just issued by the Chairman and Directors of the Amalgamated +International Anglo-French Submarine Channel Tunnel Railway Company was +held in the Company's Fortress Boardroom yesterday afternoon, and, owing +to the present critical Continental outlook, as might have been +expected, succeeded in securing the attendance of an unusually large +number of shareholders.</p> + +<p>The Chairman, who on rising was received with prolonged hooting and a +chorus, again and again renewed <i>con amore</i> by the assembled +audience, of "<i>And he's a jolly bad fellow!</i>" having, at length, +though frequently interrupted, obtained something like a hearing, was +understood to say, that he had little to offer in the shape of comment +on the Report submitted to the meeting. (<i>Groans.</i>) The causes of +its unsatisfactory nature were patent to all. Owing to their having been +compelled, in what he now fully recognised was a slavish and mistaken +obedience to a popular clamour (<i>a Voice, "You're right!</i>"), three +years ago, in the height of a sudden scare about invasion—("<i>Oh! +oh!</i>")—to let the water in and flood the +Tunnel—(<i>groans</i>)—they had been occupied ever since in +pumping it out again, and though now he was glad to announce that the +last bucketful had been emptied out, and that the traffic would be +resumed forthwith—(<i>cheers</i>)—still the operation had +cost them three millions of money, that they had to get from the market +in the shape of Seventeen per Cent. First Preference +Debentures—("<i>Oh! oh!</i>")—on which, however, he trusted +that a favourable season's receipts might enable them possibly to pay a +next half-year's dividend of three and sixpence. (<i>Prolonged +groans.</i>) It was not much; still, it was something. ("<i>Oh! +oh!</i>") But if they wished to secure even this modest remuneration for +their money, they must make up their minds, especially at the present +moment, when there was a daily,—he might almost say, an +hourly,—expectation of the withdrawal of their Ambassador from +Paris, that there must be no more craven yielding to delusive impulses +of an idiotic patriotism—(<i>loud cheers</i>),—in a word, no +more talk about closing the Tunnel on the paltry plea of "national +security." (<i>Prolonged cheering.</i>) He was glad to hear those +cheers. It was an endorsement of the standpoint that he and his +Directors meant to take in the present crisis, which was, in effect, to +remind themselves that they were shareholders of the Anglo-French +Submarine Channel Tunnel Railway Company first—and Englishmen +afterwards—(<i>thunders of applause, and loud and prolonged +cheering</i>);—and that, if called upon to shed their life's +blood, it would be solely in defence of that great engineering work, the +true monument of peace, in which their aspirations, their hopes, and, +above all, their capital, had been so fearlessly embarked and largely +invested.(<i>Renewed enthusiasm.</i>)</p> + +<p>A Shareholder here rose, and said, that if there really was, as the +Chairman seemed to imply, a probability that war with our friendly +neighbours might break out at any minute, would it not be advisable, in +the interests of the Company, to come to some amicable and therefore +satisfactory commercial arrangement for the transit of troops through +the Tunnel, which, no doubt, it would be their first object to +secure.(<i>Laughter.</i>) There might possibly be some stupid attempt of +our own Government forces to seize upon and even damage, with a view to +rendering the Tunnel useless, the works commanding this end of it. +Should not a Volunteer Corps of Shareholders be at once +organised—("<i>Hear! hear!</i>")—for the purpose of keeping +them until the French Military Authorities came over in sufficient force +to enable them to seize and securely hold them against all comers? He +trusted he was not wanting in a well-balanced and legitimate +patriotism—("<i>No! no!</i>")—but like their respected +Chairman, he felt that there was a higher claim, a louder call than that +addressed to an Englishman by his country, and that was the deep, grim, +stern and stirring appeal made to the Seventeen per Cent. +Debenture-holder by his Company.(<i>Roars of laughter.</i>)</p> + +<p>Considerable uproar here arose over the ejection from the meeting of +a protesting Shareholder, who injudiciously proposed an Amendment to the +Report to the effect that, "In the face of grave National danger, the +Company ought to be prepared, even if it involved serious financial +loss, to close their Tunnel, if such a step should be regarded as +necessary to the security of the country by the military advisers of the +Government." This proposition was howled down, and the Chairman was +again about to address the now somewhat quieted meeting, when a copy of +an evening paper, announcing the declaration of war, and the +simultaneous seizure of the British end of the Tunnel that morning by +two hundred French troops, who had crossed from Boulogne by yesterday's +evening Mail-boat, and had passed the night at Folkestone in disguise, +was handed up on to the platform.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Chairman</span> (<i>after reading out the +various items of intelligence to the Audience, who listened to them with +breathless excitement</i>). Well, Gentlemen, in the face of this not +entirely unsuspected news—(<i>laughter</i>)-our course is, I +think, pretty clear. We must at once dispatch a deputation to make the +best terms we can with the French General in command, for the transit of +the one or two, or even three hundred thousand troops they propose to +bring over. (<i>Cheers.</i>) Even if we get only an excursion fare out +of them, it will be something. ("<i>Hear, hear!</i>") And, at least, we +shall be able to congratulate ourselves on this occasion with a sterling +and heartfelt satisfaction that, whether the country go to the dogs or +not—(<i>roars of laughter</i>)—the property of the Company +will, at any rate, be preserved. (<i>Enthusiastic applause.</i>) The +Chairman, who continued his address amid mingled cheers and laughter in +the same strain, having submitted the names to form the proposed +deputation to the meeting, the Shareholders dispersed, apparently in the +highest spirits, singing a parody of the great national ditty, in which +the line, "<i>Britons ever, ever, ever will be knaves</i>," with an +accompaniment of loud guffaws of laughter, struck the listening ear, as +they betook themselves to their respective homes.</p> + +<hr class="half" /> + +<blockquote> +<h3>THE IRISH QUESTION IN BOND STREET.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Very</span> calmly and pleasantly is this matter +settled at Messrs. <span class="smcap">Dowdeswell's</span> Galleries. +Mr. O. <span class="smcap">Rickatson</span> takes us a mighty pleasant +tour through Wicklow, Wexford, and Waterford. He gives us his views on +the Land Question (Shure there are Sixty-two of them, bedad!) in +Water-colours, and very bright, breezy, and delightful they are. If +they <i>will</i> have Home Rule, if they persist in having Ireland for +the Irish, we have no desire to pick a quarrel with this +accomplished <i>aquarelliste</i> (Ha! ha!) for showing us the beauties +of the "distrissful counthry;" and if we are not allowed to have the +real thing, we shall find the peaceful possession of +Mr. <span class="smcap">Rickatson's</span> delightful pictures no mean +substitute.</p> +</blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<p id="pg36" class="pagenum">[Pg.36]</p> + +<div class="fleft" style="width:383px; +border-right:3px double;border-bottom:3px double; +padding:0% 1% 1% 0%; +"> +<h3>ENTERTAINING AN ENTERTAINER.</h3> + +<a href="images/i-036.png"> +<img src="images/i-036th.png" alt="illustration" width="384" +height="319" /> +</a> + +<div style="float:left;width:40%;border-right: 1px solid; +padding-right:.80em;">Mr. Toole, before partaking of all the farewell +luncheons, dinners, and suppers, previous to his departure for +Australia.</div> + +<div style="float:left;width:40%;padding-left:2em;">Mr. J. L. Toole +after all the farewell lunches, &c., &c. P. & O. Co. won't +make any reduction on taking a quantity.</div> +</div> + +<h2>THE PILFERER.</h2> + +<p class="center smcap">To all Volapuk-speaking Folk.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> exists at this moment no institution +which even aspires to be to the Volapuk-speaking world what We were +whilst still We remained in Northumberland Street, and looked after +things generally. The wise are few. The governing minds are never +numerous. But We have one, and We have determined to expand it over a +new Monthly Magazine. At the outset We, being, after all, human, were +confronted by the difficulty of finding a title. Several suggested +themselves to a Mind not lacking in scope. A few may be mentioned. There +was the <i>Filibuster</i>; the <i>Summum Bone-'em</i>; <i>Macheath's +Miscellany</i>; the <i>Monthly Marauder</i>; the <i>Eviscerator</i>; +the <i>Literary Leech</i>; the <i>Monthly Misappropriator</i>; +the <i>Sixpenny Scoop</i>. Each has its particular attraction and +appropriateness. But, having submitted the selection of titles for the +consideration of some of the foremost men of letters, lawyers, soldiers, +scientists, and divines of our time, with a request for an expression of +their opinion, we decided upon the title which appears at the head of +these few preliminary remarks. We are the <i>Pilferer</i>, price +sixpence, published monthly; a reduction on taking a quantity.</p> + +<p>The <i>Pilferer</i> will not be a colourless reflection of public +opinion for the time being. It will certainly not be a Party organ, and +that for sufficient reason. Neither Party has at this moment any +distinctive body of doctrine, any well-conceived system of faith, which +would justify Us in labelling Our new monthly with a Party badge. +Moreover than which, We have some reason to believe that neither Party, +nor any subdivision of Party, particularly cares to be associated with +Us. We shall therefore be independent of Party, because, having a very +clear, intelligible belief in Ourselves, We are able to survey the +struggles of contending parties from the standpoint of sublime egotism. +We are the man who can interpret the best thought of his day in such a +manner as to render it accessible to the general intelligence of Our +age. We are the true Prophet of Our time, and We hope to make a modest +profit out of Our new venture. Hence, Our first starting point will be a +deep and almost awestruck regard for the destinies of the +Volapuk-speaking race. The American Republic we especially take under +our wing (price of the Magazine in the United States 50 cents.), whilst +we work for the Empire, seek to strengthen it, to develop it, and, when +necessary, to extend it. We believe in Ourselves, in England, and in +Humanity. We are not mad. We do not "hear them dancing in the hall," as +used to happen when <span class="smcap">Henry Russell</span> still +filled the stage of the Concert Hall. But we have our mission, which is +to hold the world straight, keep ourselves <i>en évidence</i>, +and earn a modest living.</p> + +<p>How is this to be done? By the preaching of a man who energises the +activity of the Church by the ideals of chivalry and the production of a +Sixpenny Monthly, made up of pickings from other people's pockets. +Visible in many ways is the decadence of the Daily Press since We left +it. The Mentor of Young Democracy has abandoned philosophy, and stuffs +the ears of his <span class="smcap">Telemachus</span> with the skirts +of <span class="smcap">Calypso's</span> petticoats, the latest scandals +of the Court, and the prurient purrings of abandoned womankind in places +where you accept the unaccustomed cigar, and drink the unfamiliar +champagne. All the more need, then, that there should be a Voice which, +like that of the Muezzin from the Eastern minaret, shall summon the +Faithful to the duties imposed by their belief. We go into this waste +land to possess it. It is capable of being made to flourish as of old +under the stimulating radiance of a great ideal, and the diligent and +intelligent culture of one who, like Ourselves, has the capacity for +direction.</p> + +<p>Who will help Us? There is not a street in London, nor a village in +the country, which is not capable of producing, even at short notice, +and under slight pressure, a man or a woman who will spend two hours a +week, every week in the year, in more or less irksome voluntary exertion +in order to sell the <i>Pilferer</i>. To such we say, "If, by +canvassing, or otherwise, you secure, say, six subscribers, +the <i>Pilferer</i> shall be sent to you as long as the six continue +their subscriptions." In this case, the subscriptions should be paid in +advance.</p> + +<p>Are there any among the readers of the <i>Pilferer</i> craving for +counsel, for sympathy, and for the consolation of pouring out their +soul's grief at so much a quart, so to speak? If so, may we ask them to +communicate with Us? Their cases, as they submit them, will be placed +before such competent and skilful advisers as We are able to gather +round Us from the best men and women in the Volapuk-speaking world. +Their confidences will be printed free of cost, and, touched up with the +literary art that shaped many a spicy series, are likely to produce copy +at once tasty and cheap. We have a heap of letters and post-cards from +eminent persons to whom we submitted the design lightly sketched above. +They may be known as "Some Letters of Marque to the Editor of +the <i>Literary Privateer</i>."</p> + +<p class="center smcap">Mr. Gl-dst-ne.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Mr. Pilferer</span>,—The idea you +suggest appears to me highly useful, as well as ingenious in relation to +all who are able to appreciate it. Personally I am outside this circle, +and so will save my sixpence a month. I hope you enjoyed your 'bus tour +along the Commercial Road?</p> + +<p class="ralign"> +Yours faithfully, <span class="smcap">W. E. Gl-dst-ne</span>.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Mr. B-lf-r.</span><br /> +1, <i>Carlton Gardens, S.W., Dec.</i> 12, '89. +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">I think</span> your scheme ought to prove useful. +But isn't there some difficulty with the original proprietors of the +goods? If I can help you in any way, by putting anyone in prison, pray +count upon me. Obstruction must be put down in any form in which it +presents itself.</p> + +<p class="ralign"> +Yours faithfully, <span class="smcap">A. J. B-lf-r.</span> +</p> + + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Earl of C-rn-rv-n.</span> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> is, no doubt, a large amount of +valuable matter which appears from time to time in the Magazines, but +which, being buried under a mass of unimportant writing, is overlooked. +I have found this in reference to my own contributions, which have +occasionally been passed over by the public, who have preferred to read +the other contents.</p> + + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Lord C-l-r-dge.</span> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">At</span> one time of my life I wrote far too +many articles to have much opinion of the ability required to produce +them, or their value to anyone when produced. What I did write was much +better than the general run of articles. Now I do not write, there is +nothing in the Magazines. If you can get it out for nothing, and sell it +for sixpence, you will do well.</p> + + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Lord W-ls-l-y.</span><br /> +<i>Ranger's House, Greenwich Park, S.E. Sunday.</i> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Mr. Pilferer,</span>—In answer to your +note, I have nothing to say of any interest.</p> + +<p class="ralign"> +<span class="smcap">W-ls-l-y.</span> +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Lord T-nnys-n.</span><br /> +<i>Hangford, Freshwater, Isle of Wight.</i> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord T-nnys-n</span> presents his compliments +to <i>Mr. Pilferer</i>, and begs to point out to him that had he thrust +his corporeal presence upon Lord <span class="smcap">T-nnys-n</span> +over his garden hedge, or by his area-steps, he would have been +incontinently cast forth by the domestics. Lord +<span class="smcap">T-nnys-n</span> finds it impossible to discover any appreciable difference +between that step and the one whereby <i>Mr. Pilferer</i> impertinently, +through the medium of the unsuspecting penny post, forces himself +upon Lord <span class="smcap">T-nnys-n's</span> notice, and impudently begs him to assist him +with a gratuitous advertisement for a commercial undertaking.</p> + + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Mr. Charley Bates.</span><br /> +<i>Middle of Next Week. Nix Alley, No. 0.</i> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Pal,</span>—Excuse this address, but +sometimes it's well not to go into too many perticklers. I have yours +giving me an account of your new lay. As far as I can make out, there's +a lot of tradesmen in London who, at considerable give out of swag, get +swell fellers to write articles for them. Then <i>you</i> plunge in, +romp around, fill your pockets with the pick of the lot, and go and sell +it on your own hook. That's good. But what I like best is the putting on +of the bands and surplice, the taking of the good book in the right +hand, the uprising of the eyeballs, and the general trotting out of the +loftiest principles, the purest motives, and the general welfare of our +brother men. You are a regular wonner, old pal, and should do; +leastways, you have the good wishes of your old friend,</p> + +<p class="ralign"> +<span class="smcap">Charley.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="small-font"><span style="font-size:large;">☞</span> 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> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume +98, January 18, 1890, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 21590-h.htm or 21590-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/1/5/9/21590/ + +Produced by V. L. 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0000000..7f288a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/21590.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1772 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 98, +January 18, 1890, 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, Volume 98, January 18, 1890 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis Burnand + +Release Date: May 23, 2007 [EBook #21590] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by V. L. Simpson, Malcolm Farmer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + + +VOL. 98. + + + +January 18th, 1890. + + + +AMONG THE AMATEURS. + +No. III.--REALISATION. + + SCENE--_Theatre Royal, Blankbury, on the first night of + the performance of the well-known Comedy of_ "Heads or + Tails?" _by the "Thespian Perambulators." Time_, 7:50 + P.M. _A "brilliant and fashionable assemblage" is + gradually filling the house. In the Stalls are many + distinguished Amateurs of both Sexes, including_ Lady + SURBITON, _who has brought her husband_ and Mrs. + GAGMORE (Lady SURBITON'S _particular friend_). _The + rest of the Stalls are occupied by the immediate + friends and relations of the Actors. A few professional + Critics are to be seen. They are addressed with much + politeness by the Amateurs in front of the House, and + "played to" with feverish anxiety by the Amateurs on + the Stage. The Orchestra is composed of excellent + Amateur Musicians. The Curtain has not yet risen._ + +_Lady Surbiton_ (_to_ Mrs. GAGMORE). My dear, it's a wonder we ever got +here. CHARLES of course forgot the date, and told me only yesterday he'd +invited some men to stay for a shoot. He had to listen to reason, though, +and so we spent all yesterday sending telegrams to put them off. I've been +at every performance of The Thespians for years, and it wouldn't do to +begin missing them now, would it? + + [Illustration] + +_Mrs. Gagmore._ Certainly not, dear, it would have been quite a calamity. +There's the Duchess of MIDDLESEX nodding to you. + +_Lady S._ So it is. (_Smiles sweetly at the Duchess, who is sitting three +rows off._) I call it scandalous of her to come out like this when both her +twins have got the measles. Did I tell you I lent Mr. SPINKS my pet parrot, +Penelope, for this performance? + +_Mrs. G._ No, dear. I didn't know they ever played it with a parrot. + +_Lady S._ Well, they don't usually, but Mr. SPINKS told me that, after +studying the piece very very carefully, he had come to the conclusion that +there ought to be a parrot in _Lady Shorthorn's_ drawing-room, and he +begged me to lend him mine. Fortunately it scarcely ever talks. Oh, there's +Mr. PENFOLD! How old he's getting to look. He never seems to have a good +word to say for anyone in his critiques. They're very late in beginning. I +hope nothing has happened to Penelope. Ah! at last. + + _The Orchestra strikes up. After a few minutes the + Curtain rises on "the Drawing-room at Bullivant Court." + Sc. 1, Act 1._ HARRY HALL, _in livery as_ JOHN _the + Footman, is reclining on a sofa, reading a magazine. + Penelope, in her cage, is a conspicuous object on the_ + O.P. _side_. + +_John_ (_yawning_). "Nothink in the _Fortnightly_, as per usual. Heigh-ho! +This is slow work. Who's that?" + + _Enter_ BELINDA, _the Nursery-maid. The usual amatory + scene follows. They both disappear, as_ TIFFINGTON + SPINKS _enters made up as_ "Colonel DEBENHAM," _with a + saffron complexion, a grey moustache, a red tie and an + iron-grey wig. He shivers. A great deal of preliminary + applause. He bows with dignity, conscious of his fame, + and proceeds._ + +_Col. Debenham._ "Ugh! how horribly cold this is. I shall have to speak +seriously to SHORTHORN about the state of his fires." + +_Penelope the Parrot_ (_suddenly and with terrible distinctness_). "Old +fool!" [_A titter from the irreverent._ SPINKS _pays no heed to the +interruption._ + +_Lady Surbiton._ How awful! I declare I haven't heard Penelope speak for +six months. I hope to heaven she won't do it again. + +_Mrs. Gagmore._ I thought it sounded so natural. + +_Lord S._ So it did, that's why it was so out of place. He's getting on all +right now, though. + +_Col. Debenham_ (_concluding a peppery soliloquy_). "And as for Lady +SHORTHORN and that spiteful cat of a sister of hers, all I can say of TOM +DEBENHAM is----" + +_Penelope_ (_loudly_). "Old fool!" + + [_Whistles up and down the scale. Much laughter._ + SPINKS _feels that violent measures are necessary if + the piece is not to be utterly ruined. He perceives_ + JARP _standing at the wings made up as_ BINNS _the + Butler. A happy thought flashes on him. He nods + meaningly at_ JARP. + +_Col. Debenham_ (_improvising gag_). "Oh, confound that bird! I must have +it removed. I'll ring for the butler." + + [_Rings. Enter_ JARP _as_ BINNS. + +_Binns._ "'Er Ladyship's compliments, Colonel DEBENHAM, and she would +like----" + +_Spinks_ (_in a whisper of concentrated fury to_ JARP). Not yet; take that +infernal parrot away, quick! + +_Jarp_ (_loses his head; still the Butler is strong within him_). "'Er +Ladyship is served!" + +_Spinks_ (_aloud_). "Oh, nonsense--nonsense, man! You're an idiot. Here, +take this bird, and kill it!" + + [_Seizes cage, thrusts it into the flustered_ JARP'S + _arms, and pushes him off, the Parrot, horribly + frightened, yelling, "Old fool!"_ + +_Lady Surbiton._ How dare he speak of Penelope in that way? Kill her! If +Mr. JARP so much as lays a finger upon her---- + +_Lord S._ She'll bite him. Oh, you may make your mind quite easy about that +parrot. She's bitten every finger of mine to the bone, and I'm certain +she's quite equal to defending herself against JARP. + + _The Act proceeds without any further hitch, until_ + BELINDA _wheels on her double perambulator containing + two red-headed infants, one of whom is terrified into + tears and calls for "Father!" in a shrill voice. After + this everything, however, goes well, and the Curtain + falls amidst thunders of applause._ + + +BEHIND THE CURTAIN. + +_Spinks._ Yes, GUSHBY, I believe you did it. You were closeted with that +parrot for an hour yesterday. I believe you deliberately taught it to say +that, in order to crab my part. What's more, I'm certain of it, for I +distinctly recognised your voice in the parrot's. + +_Gushby._ Pooh! nonsense! If I had taught it to say anything, it would have +been something worse than that, you may be sure. + +_Spinks._ You always were kind. As for JARP, he was in the plot. Otherwise +do you think any man could have made such a fool of himself? + + +IN FRONT OF THE CURTAIN. + +_Lady Surbiton._ That's what I've always said. There's so much _esprit de +corps_ and good feeling amongst Amateurs--none of that wretched jealousy +and bickering which ruins professionals. + +_Mrs. Gagmore._ It is delightful to listen to them, certainly. They all +look and act like perfect gentlemen. All Mr. JARP'S Butlers are splendid. +You can see at a glance that they have only been with good families. + + +BEHIND THE CURTAIN. + +_Hon. B. Boldero._ I fancy we shall have good notices to-morrow in the +_Morning Moonbeam_. I saw PENFOLD laughing immensely. + +_Spinks_ (_down on his luck_). Did you? (_Plucking up a bit._) Well, it +"went" capitally. It was only that blessed parrot. + + [_Goes off intending to buy several copies of next + morning's "Moonbeam."_ + + +IN FRONT OF THE CURTAIN. + +_Mr. Penfold_ (_to his neighbour, a brother journalist_): Are you going to +write anything about this? I have got to do a short notice for the _Morning +Moonbeam_. It's no use abusing these fellows. That's been tried. I'll give +them a little butter this time, and see whether that won't stop them. How +would it do to say something like this?--"We advise the Thespians to keep +clear as much as they can of professionalism. Of course, tradition demands +that the ladies' parts should be played by professionals, but the +introduction of a professional parrot and a professional baby in the First +Act was a mistake, which might have ruined the performance." + + [_His Friend nods approval. Exeunt severally. Imagine + tableau next day. Delight of Amateurs on reading the + notice of their performance in the "Moonbeam."_ + + * * * * * + +HOLIDAY CATECHISM. + +_Mr. P._ Now little Master JACK HORNER, from your corner in Drury Lane, +what plums do you pick out of the Pantomime? + +_Master J. H._ The Hansom Cab and King HARRY (NICHOLLS) returning home +confronted by the Queen, then the GRIFFITHS Cow, the Giant's Dinner and his +Servants, and the Dame LENO'S wonderful Fowl. + +_Mr. P._ What else? + +_Master J. H._ Lots of things, but at the Circus at Covent Garden, the +Shetland Ponies lovely. They come first, so you must be early. + +_Mr. P._ Did you see anything else that pleased you? + +_Master J. H._ I should think so. Such a game! Mlle. GOU-GOU quite shocked +my little sister POLLY, by her strange conduct. But when it turned out that +he was a man, how we laughed! It _was_ funny. + +_Mr. P._ And I suppose you stayed for the Lion? + +_Master J. H._ You may be sure we did! POLLY was a little frightened at +first; but when we found that the Royal Dane Boarhound and the Horse didn't +mind him a bit, why we didn't mind either. Isn't it wonderful? Oh, you +ought to go and see them. They are prime! + + * * * * * + + BARNUM'S MOTTO.--"_Tout a fait La Shows._" + + * * * * * + +MUZZLED AND PUZZLED; OR, "LOVE ME, LOVE MY DOG." + +(_A Carol of Kentish Conservatism. Some way after Goldsmith._) + + + [Illustration] + + + _Good Tories all, of County Kent, + Give ear unto my song, + And spare your puerile intent + To do your Party wrong._ + + * * * * + + There was a mighty Minister, + To power appointed late; + A virtuous and valiant _Vir_, + A Pillar of the State. + + If one who doth fat oxen drive + Should in himself be fat, + This Minister seemed bound to thrive + As to his post most pat. + + A more bucolic personage + Bucolics never sang; + And when he took that post and wage, + All round his praises rang. + + O'er Agriculture to preside, + CHAPLIN was surely born; + He bore his honours with the pride + Of Chanticleer at morn. + + In Kent there were some Tories found, + For Tories still there be; + In fact, the species doth abound + In spite of W. G. + + CHAPLIN and they at first were friends, + But when a feud began + They--whom a little thing offends-- + Rounded on that good man. + + The motto of these Men of Kent + Was, "Love me, love my Dog;" + And soon with angry discontent + The County was agog. + + For CHAPLIN--it was like his cheek, + Cockiest of Ministers!-- + Quite supererogant, did seek + To muzzle Kentish Curs! + + Around to all the counties near + An angry protest ran; + To touch a Kentish dog, 'tis clear, + Touches a Kentish Man. + + Fanatic lovers of the hound + Scorn hygienic laws, + And though their dogs should snap all round + You must not bind their jaws. + + Restraint appeared both sore and sad + To every Kentish eye, + And, whilst they swore the Man was mad, + They swore the Dogs would die. + + Nay, more, there came _this_ fearsome threat + From true-blue Tory throats: + "With muzzles if our dogs you fret, + _You shall not have our votes!_" + + O patriots true! Rads grin with glee! + The puzzle CHAPLIN fogs; + 'Tis plain that Party loyalty + Is going to the dogs! + + Kent's choice 'twixt Party seems, and pup, + The question stirs the town, + Whether the Tories will give up, + Or CHAPLIN will climb down! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: STUDIES IN REPARTEE. + +_Heavyside_ (_Author of "Epaminondas" and other unread Epics_). "BY THE +BYE, HOW MUCH DO _YOU_ WEIGH, BINKS?" + +_Little Binks._ "FOURTEEN STONE!" + +_Heavyside._ "DEAR ME! YOU DON'T LOOK VERY BIG, TO WEIGH ALL THAT!" + +_Little Binks._ "'_EPAMINONDAS_' DOESN'T _LOOK_ VERY BIG--BUT IT'S PRECIOUS +HEAVY!"] + + * * * * * + +SLAPS FOR SLIPPERS. + +SIR,--I am at a loss to understand what is the meaning of all this futile +discussion as to the respective merits of the various kinds of road +pavement. There cannot be a moment's doubt, as to which is, far and away, +the cheapest, the safest, and--in a word--the--best. Without any +hesitation, I maintain that it is the _Asphalte_. And I do not speak +without experience. For many years I have picked mine up from the box-seat +of a hearse, which I think my most virulent opponents will admit, from the +ticklish character of its cattle, accustomed as they are to a stiff, formal +and lugubrious method of progression, affords a test that must be regarded +as supreme by all candid and unprejudiced inquirers into the matter under +dispute. + +_In the wettest weather_ I have never had so much as a slip on the +asphalte, whereas the moment I have got on to the wood, when it has been +_comparatively dry_, I have frequently had the horses down as many as seven +or eight times in half a mile, and on one occasion, that I can recall, the +stumbling was so frequent, that the Chief Mourner stopped the procession, +and sent me an irritable message to the effect that, if I could not manage +to keep my horses more securely on their feet, I had better then and there +"hand over the corpse, and let it finish its journey to the Cemetery on the +top of the first mourning-coach." Fortunately, we came shortly to a bit of +asphalte, on which I was able to bowl merrily along, and make up for lost +time; and, as at length we reached the Cemetery only an hour and +three-quarters after the appointed time, the Chief Mourner, whatever may +have been his disposition to make complaints, had the good taste to keep +them to himself. Still, the incident was annoying, and I attribute its +occurrence simply and solely to that pest of all sure and stately-footed +hacks--_the Wood Pavement_. + + [Illustration] + +Beyond holding three thousand Preference Shares in the _European and +Inter-oceanic Asphalte Paving Company_, and having signed a contract to +supply them for seventeen years with the best Pine Pitch on favourable +terms, I have not the slightest interest to subserve in writing this +letter, which I think any quite impartial critic will allow, curtly, but +honestly, expresses the unprejudiced opinion of + + AN UNBIASSED JUDGMENT. + + +SIR,--I am a private gentleman, who keeps a carriage, or rather, a +four-horse coach, in which I am continually driving about all over London +at full speed. We dash at such a rate over those portions of the Metropolis +that are blessed with a wood pavement that my coachman is frequently +summoned for furious driving, but we have never yet had a horse down. No +sooner, however, do we get to the asphalte than all this is changed. +Leaders and wheelers alike are instantly on their backs, and I have now +made it a rule, the moment we come to a street paved with this dangerous +and detestable composition, to put my horses inside the coach, and, with +the assistance of a policeman or two, drag the vehicle to the other end +myself. Only yesterday, I think it was, on the north side of Leicester +Square, I counted as many as nineteen ugly falls in as many minutes, +necessitating, in nearly every case, the despatch of the creature on the +spot by a shot from a revolver. The fact is, the laying of _asphalte_ +anywhere should be made criminal in a Vestry. I write impartially on this +subject, as, beyond being a sleeping partner in a large firm of Wooden +Road-Paving Contractors, I have no sort of interest to serve, one way or +the other. But it must be obvious, from the account I have given of my own +personal experience above, that in addressing you on the subject, I am +actuated by no motives that are not consistent with and fitting to the +signature of + + AN UNPREJUDICED OBSERVER. + + +SIR,--I am in no way interested in the present pavement controversy, but I +would direct public attention to the real source of all the mischief, and +that is the ineffective shoeing of the unhappy horses, who are compelled to +struggle with the difficulties created for them by a parcel of Paving +Authorities. What we want is a general order issued by the Board of Trade +obliging all horse-owners to provide those they possess with a couple of +pairs of _The Patent India-rubber frog and flannel-soled Horse-Shoes_, +warranted to support the most stumbling beast on any pavement whatever. I +said I was in no way interested in the present controversy, and as I am +merely the Inventor of the shoe above referred to, it must be obvious, that +in making this communication to you, I am only fulfilling the commonest +duties of + + AN ORDINARY SPECTATOR. + + +SIR,--Will not you, or someone, step in and deal with the matter +comprehensively, without paying regard to vested interests? Surely, if the +right people would only put their heads together, they must hit on some +method of bettering the present wretched condition of those much ill-used +but patient and long-suffering creatures, among whom the first to subscribe +himself is + + THE ORDINARY LONDON OMNIBUS HORSE. + + * * * * * + + ANOTHER TITLE FOR THE GUIDE TO THE EXHIBITION AT THE + NEW GALLERY.--"New Edition of the _Tudor's Assistant_." + + * * * * * + + TO BE CREATED A KNIGHT HOSPITALLER.--Mr. PETER REID. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: Another Version of "La Toss-ca." The Cow in the Drury Lane +Pantomime.] + + * * * * * + +THE JUBILEE OF THE PENNY POST. + + "On Jan. 10, 1840, the Penny Post became an + accomplished fact."--_Times_. + + ATTEND, all ye who like to hear a noble Briton's praise! + I tell of valiant deeds one wrought in the Century's early days: + When all the legions of Red Tape against him tore in vain, + Man of stout will, brave ROWLAND HILL, of true heroic strain. + + It was about the gloomy close of Eighteen Thirty Nine, + MELBOURNE and PEEL began to melt, the P.O. "sticks" to pine, + For vainly the Official ranks and the Obstructive host + Had formed and squared 'gainst ROWLAND HILL'S plan, of the Penny Post. + Still poor men paid their Ninepences for sending one thin sheet + From Bethnal Green to Birmingham by service far from fleet; + Still she who'd post a _billet doux_ to Dublin from Thames shore, + For loving word and trope absurd must stump up One-and-four; + Still frequent "friendly lines" were barred to all save Wealth and Rank, + Or Parliamentary "pots" who held the privilege of "Frank;" + Still people stooped to dubious dodge and curious device + To send their letters yet evade the most preposterous price; + Still to despatch to London Town a business "line or two" + Would cost a Connemara peasant half his weekly "screw;" + Still mothers, longing much for news, must let their letter lie + Unread at country post-offices, the postage being too high + For their lean purses, unprepared. And Trade was hampered then, + And Love was checked, and barriers raised--by cost--'twixt men and men. + Then up and spake brave ROWLAND HILL in accents clear and warm, + "This misery can be mended! Read my _Post Office Reform_!" + St. Stephens heard, and "Red Tape" read, and both cried out "Pooh! Pooh! + The fellow is a lunatic; his plan will never do!" + All this was fifty years ago. And now,--well, are there any + Who do not bless brave ROWLAND HILL and his ubiquitous Penny? + One head, if 'tis a _thinking_ one, is very often better + Than two, or twenty millions! That's just why _we_ get our letter + From Aberdeen, or Melbourne, from Alaska or Japan, + So cheaply, quickly, certainly--thanks to one stout-soul'd Man. + + Fifty years since! In Eighteen Forty, he, the lunatic, + Carried his point. Wiseacres winced; Obstruction "cut its stick." + He won the day, stout ROWLAND HILL, and then they made him Knight. + If universal benefit unmarred by bane gives right + To titles, which are often won by baseness or a fluke, + The founder of the Penny Post deserved to be a Duke. + But then he's something better--a fixed memory, a firm fame; + For long as the World "drops a line," it cannot drop his name. + 'Tis something like a Jubilee, this tenth of Janua-_ree_! + _Punch_ brims a bumper to its hero, cheers him three times three, + For if there was a pioneer in Civilisation's host, + It was the cheery-hearted chap who schemed the Penny Post. + And when the croaking cravens, who are down on all Reform, + And shout their ancient shibboleth, and raise their tea-pot storm, + Whene'er there's talk of Betterment in any branch of State, + And vent their venom on the Wise, their greed upon the Great, + _Punch_ says to his true countrymen, "Peace, peace, good friends--be + still! + Reform does _not_ spell Ruin, lads. Remember ROWLAND HILL!!!" + + * * * * * + +A CURIOUS CURE. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH, _January_13, 1890. + +So much attention is now bestowed upon the prevailing epidemic that I will +not apologise for troubling you with a letter detailing a case that has +recently come under my own notice. My eldest son, AUGUSTUS, returned home +from the educational establishment admirably conducted by my eminent and +reverend friend, Dr. SWISHTALE, apparently in excellent health and spirits, +shortly before Christmas Day. On the 4th (just a week before the date fixed +for his return to the educational establishment to which I have referred) +he showed symptoms of influenza. He complained of low spirits, seemed +inclined to quarrel with (and thrash) his younger brothers, and flatly +declined to accompany me to an inspection of the treasures contained in the +Natural Historical Museum at South Kensington. I immediately prescribed for +him a diet of bread and water, and an enforced retirement to bed. He spent +the remainder of the day in loudly-expressed expostulation and lamentation. +On the Sunday (after a consultation with his mother) I decided to adopt a +home treatment of kindness, which I trusted would prevent the necessity of +calling in our family doctor. I give the remainder of the case in diary +form. + +_Monday._--AUGUSTUS very poorly. Complains of pains in his head, arms, +legs, back, nose, and right little finger. Says he has no appetite, but, +urged by his mother, manages to eat for breakfast two sausages and a couple +of eggs. Quite unable to get up; but shortly before two o'clock, on +learning that I proposed visiting the Morning Performance at Her Majesty's +Theatre, expresses his desire to accompany me. He seemed to enjoy +_Cinderella_ thoroughly, in spite of his ailments; but, at the conclusion +of the performance, became so very languid, that we found it desirable to +take a Hansom home. + +_Tuesday._--AUGUSTUS prostrate. Pain in the right little finger +unconsciously shifted to the left little finger. He says he had nightmare +continuously, but "had not slept a wink." Breakfast, of course, in bed. No +appetite for anything save muffins, herrings, and marmalade on buttered +toast. Unable to move until one o'clock, when he thought (at the suggestion +of his mother) that a visit to the Crystal Palace might probably do him +good. The excursion was a happy thought, as certainly he seemed quite +himself at Sydenham. After a hearty dinner from soup and the joint, he once +more seemed languid, and had to be carried home by rail and cab. + +_Wednesday._--AUGUSTUS still very unwell. Seems much troubled at a dream he +has had, in which he apparently died through going back to school. Still +complains of insomnia. Says he did not close his eyes all night. Wished to +"punch the head" (to adopt his own phraseology) of his younger brother for +saying, that he had heard him snoring. However, recovered towards the +evening sufficiently to accompany the rest of the family to the Circus at +Covent Garden. In the theatre appeared more himself, but ill immediately +afterwards. + +_Thursday._--AUGUSTUS (according to his own account) alarmingly ill. Found +by his bedside a medical dictionary (taken from the shelves of my library) +which he says, he had been reading. He thinks, that he has all the worst +symptoms of _delirium tremens_. This is strange, as his habitual drink is +ginger-beer. He complains of pains in his ears, eyes, knees, elbows, and +big toes on both feet. Quite unable to get up before five o'clock, when he +was fortunately, sufficiently recovered to accompany his younger brothers +to a juvenile party and Christmas tree. According to SAMMY (my second son) +AUGUSTUS danced every dance, and served as an assistant to an amateur +conjuror. But this last statement I give with some reserve, as it does not +correspond with the report furnished by AUGUSTUS himself. + +_Friday._--AUGUSTUS at his worst. In the morning he alarmed his mother by a +passionate burst of weeping. He seems to think that, if he goes back to +school to-morrow, he will die immediately. Feeling that this was an +unhealthy state of mind, I took him to the Zoological Gardens in the +afternoon, and must confess that, while there, he appeared to experience a +keen delight in feeding the bears with fragments of newspaper, concealed in +stale buns. But at night his melancholia returned, and he was scarcely able +to eat his dinner. + +_Saturday._--Received a letter from my eminent and reverend friend, Dr. +SWISHTALE, informing me that, in consequence of the prevalence of +influenza, it had been thought advisable to extend the Christmas vacation +for a fortnight or three weeks. On conveying this intelligence to my eldest +son, he seemed to rapidly recover, and has (I am happy to say) been well +ever since. + +Trusting that the history of this singular case may afford some hints and +comfort to parents with children afflicted (as was my dear AUGUSTUS) with a +disease so eccentric in its ramifications as influenza, + + I remain, dear _Mr. Punch_, + + Yours most truly, SIMON SIMPLE WIDEAWAKE. + +_Malinger Villa, Blarney Road, S. W._ + + * * * * * + +VOCES POPULI. + +THE CADI OF THE CURBSTONE. + + SCENE--_A thoroughfare near Hyde Park. Shortly before + Scene opens, an Elderly Gentleman has suddenly stopped + the cab in which he has been driving, and, without + offering to pay the fare, has got out and shuffled off + with a handbag. The Cabman has descended from his seat + and overtaken the old gentleman, who is now perceived + to be lamentably intoxicated. The usual crowd springs + up from nowhere, and follows the dispute with keen and + delighted interest._ + +_Cabman._ Look 'ere, you ain't goin' not without payin' _me_, you +know--where's my two shillings? + +_The Elderly Gentleman_ (_smiling sweetly, and balancing himself on his +heels against some railings_). I'm shure _I_ dunno. + +_Cabman._ Well, _look_, can't yer? don't keep me 'ere all day--feel in yer +pockets, come! + + [_The Old Gentleman makes an abortive effort to find a + pocket about him somewhere, and then relapses into + abstraction._ + +_Crowd._ Let 'im take 'is time, _he'll_ pay yer right enough, if you let +the man alone. + +_A Woman._ Ah, pore gentleman, the best of us is took like that sometimes! + + [_Murmurs of sympathy._ + +_Cabman._ I don't want no more than what's my own. 'E's rode in my keb, and +I want my fare out of 'im--an' I mean '_aving_ it, too! + + [_Here the Old Gentleman, who seems bored by the + discussion, abruptly serpentines off again and is + immediately overtaken and surrounded._ + +_The E. G._ Wha' d'ye mean? 'founded 'perrinence! Lemme 'lone ... 'portant +bishniss! + +_Cabman._ Pay me my fare,--or I'll have your bag! + + [_Seizes bag; the Elderly Gentleman resisting feebly, + and always smiling_. + +_Crowd._ Why can't yer pay the man his fare and have done with it? There, +he's feeling in his pockets--he's going to pay yer now! + + [_Elderly Gentleman dives vaguely in a pocket, and + eventually produces a threepenny bit, which he tenders + magnificently._ + +_Cabman._ Thruppence ain't no good _to me_--two shillings is what I want +out o' _you_--a florin--'j'ear me? + +_The E. G._ (_after another dive fishes up three halfpence_). Thash all +you're 'titled, to--go 'way, go 'way! + +_Crowd_ (_soothingly to Cabman_). 'E'll make it up in time--don't '_urry_ +'im. + +_Cabman._ D' ye think I kin stand 'ere cooling my 'eels, while he's payin' +me a 'apn'y every 'arf 'our? I've got my living to earn same as _you_ 'ave! + +_Crowd._ Ah, he's right there! (_Persuasively to Elderly Gentleman._) 'Ere, +Ole Guv'nor, fork out like a man! + + [_The Old Guv'nor shakes his head at them with a + knowing expression._ + +_Cabman._ Well, I shan't let go o' this 'ere bag till I _am_ paid--that's +all! + + [_Here a Policeman arrives on scene._ + +_Policeman._ Now, then, what's all this? Move along 'ere, all of you--don't +go blocking up the thoroughfare like this! (_Scathingly_.) What are yer all +_lookin'_ at? (_The Crowd, feeling this rebuke, move away some three paces, +and then linger undecidedly._) 'Ere, Cabman, you've no right to lay 'old on +that gentleman's bag--_you_ know that as well as I do! + +_Cabman_ (_somewhat mollified by this tribute to his legal knowledge, +releases bag_). Well, _he_ ain't got no right to ride in my keb, and do a +guy, without paying nothink, 'as he? + +_Policeman._ All I tell _you_ is--you've no right to detain his bag. + +_Cabman._ Let 'im pay me my legal fare, then--two shillings it is 'e owes +_me_. I don't want to hinterfere with 'im, if he'll pay me. + +_Pol._ (_with a magnificent impartality, to the E. G._). What have you got +to say to _that_? + +_The E. G._ (_with a dignified wave of the hand_). Shay? Why, tha' I'm +shimply--a gerrilm'n. + +_Pol._ (_his impartiality gradually merging into official disgust_). Well, +all I can say to _you_ is, if you _are_ one, don't abuse it.... Where are +you going to? + +_The E. G._ (_brimming over with happy laughter_). _I_ dunno! + +_Pol._ (_deciding to work on his fears_). Don't you? Well, _I do_, then. I +know where _you_'re goin' to--ah, and where you'll _be_, too, afore you're +much older--the station-'us!--(_with a slight lapse into jocularity, in +concession to his audience_)--"for one night honly"--that's _your_ +direction, unless you look out. (_With virtuous indignation._) 'Ere are +you--calling yourself a gentleman, and old enough to know better--riding in +this man's keb, and trying to bilk him out of his money. Why, you ought to +be _ashamed_ o' yourself! + +_A Funny Onlooker._ Now, Policeman, why do you interfere? Why can't you +leave them to settle it between them? + +_Pol._ (_turning on him with awful dignity_). I don't want no suggestions +from _you_, Sir. I know _my_ dooty, and them as tries to obstruck me'll get +no good by it. I'm not 'ere to take one man's part more than another. + +_Cabman._ Well, ain't you goin' to do something now you _are_ here? What's +the good of a Copper if he won't 'elp a man to git his rights, eh? + + [_Murmurs of sympathy from Crowd._ + +_Pol._ Now, you mind _your_self--that's what _you_'d better do, or _you_'ll +be gitting into trouble next! I've told you I can't interfere one way or +the other; and--(_generally, to Crowd_)--you must pass along 'ere, please, +or I shall 'ave to make yer. + +_Crowd_ (_to Eld. G._). Give the man his money, can't yer? Pay 'im! + +_Cabman._ Come, look sharp! Just you pay me! + +_The E. G._ How c'n I pay, man? P'fectly 'shurd! Go to bleeshes! + + [_Bolts again, and is once more overtaken by the + indignant Cabman._ + +_Pol._ (_following up_). Now, then, Cabman, don't go hustling him! + + [_Crowd's sympathy veers round to the E. G. again._ + +_Cabman._ _'Oo's_ 'ustlin'? I ain't laid a finger on 'im. +(_Magnanimously._) I've no wish to 'inder 'im from going wherever he likes, +so long as he pays me fust! + +_Pol._ You've no right to touch the man, nor yet his bag; so be careful, +that's all I tell you! + +_The E. G._ (_with maudlin enthusiasm_). Pleeshman's perfelly ri'! +Pleeshman always knowsh besht! + + [_Tries to pat Policeman on back._ + +_Pol._ (_his disgust reaching a climax_). 'Ere, don't you go pawin' _me_ +about--for I won't '_ave_ it! If _I'm_ right, it's more than what _you_ +are, anyhow! Now be off with you, wherever it is you're going to! + +_Cabman_ (_desperate_). But look 'ere--can't you take his name and address? + +_Pol._ (_rising to the occasion_). Ah! that's what I was waitin' for! Now +you've _ast_ me--now I kin _act_! (_Pulls out a pocket-book full of dirty +memoranda, and a stumpy pencil._) Now then, Sir, your name, if _you_ +please? + +_The E. G._ (_sleepily_). Shtupid thing a-do, but qui' forgot.... Come out +'ithout mi' name, 'shmornin'! + +_Pol._ (_sternly_). That won't do with Me, you know. What's your name? Out +with it! + +_The E. G._ (_evidently making a wild shot at it_). FERGUSHON. + + [_Smiles, as if he feels sure the Policeman will be + pleased with a name like that_. + +_Pol._ JOHN? GEORGE? JAMES?--or what? + +_The E. G._ You can purr 'em all down t' me--it don' marrer! + +_Pol._ (_briskly_). Where do you live, Mr. FERGUSON? + +_The E. G._ (_mechanically_). Shirty-one, Lushington Street, Gargleshbury +Park. + +_Pol._ (_writing it down, and giving leaf to Cabman_). There, will _that_ +do for you? + +_Cabman._ That's all _I_ want. (_To the E. G._) You'll 'ear from me later +on. + +_The E. G._ (_affectionately_). Alwaysh pleash'd shee you, any time.... +Pleeshman too.... Shorry can't shtop--mos' 'portant bishnish! + +_Pol._ Which way do you want to go? + +_The E. G._ Earlsh Court. + +_Pol._ Then get there, if you're capable of it. And now, you boys, clear +the road, will you? + + [_The Elderly Gentleman, smiling in the full conviction + of having extricated himself from a difficult situation + with consummate tact and diplomacy, goes off unsteadily + in the direction of Piccadilly, accompanied by a suite + of small boys who have kindly resolved to see him + through any further adventures that may await his + progress. The Cabman remains to discuss the affair at + great length on the curbstone. The Policeman paces + slowly on, conscious that he has worthily maintained + the dignity of his office._ + + [Illustration: A Cab-array.] + + * * * * * + +A CORRESPONDENT, _a propos_ of the prevailing epidemic, writes,--"Sir, +there must have been an epidemic of influenza at Cambridge about +thirty-three years ago, as in a travesty of _Faust_, produced at the A. D. +C. about that time, occurs a parody of the song '_Di Frienza_' from _La +Traviata_, commencing '_Influenza_ is about, So I'll stay no longer out.' +History repeats itself occasionally.--I am, Yours, + + AN INFLUENZIAL PERSONAGE, Trin. Coll. Cam." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE EXPRESSED DIFFERENTLY. + +_Miss Amy._ "AND DO YOU ADMIRE MISS TRAVERS, MR. GOSLIN?" + +_Mr. G._ "YES--AWF'LY! SHE'S SO UNLIKE ALL OTHER GIRLS, DON'TCHERKNOW!!"] + + * * * * * + +PLAIN ENGLISH! + +JOHN BULL _loquitur:_-- + + "ENGLISH as she is spoke," my little friend, + Is not precisely what your pundits deem it. + Let _me_ give you a lesson! This must end. + That flag, however lightly you esteem it, + Has not so long waved folds fair, broad, and ample + To all earth's winds for _you_ at last to trample. + + No! What the mischief is your little game? + Monkeyish tricks help neither power nor dignity. + A little country heir of much fair fame, + I'd like to treat with patience and benignity; + But memories of CAMOENS and DE GAMA + Should save you from the clown's part in earth's drama. + + Clowning it is to caper in this style, + Trying to make a foot-cloth of my banner. + You ought to know the temper of our Isle, + You've tested it in circumstantial manner. + Down before SOULT and JUNOT you'd have gone + But for that very flag, and WELLINGTON. + + Old friends? Of course we are. Old rivals too, + In commerce and adventure the world over. + From JOHN THE GREAT'S time to the present, you + In Africa have been a daring rover; + "The Rover's free"! Ah! that's good lyric brag-- + He is not free to trample on my flag! + + VASCO DE GAMA and CABRAL, no doubt, + Held an exceedingly free hand aforetime. + Cocks of the walk were those adventurers stout, + But then their time was different from your time. + In what you call your "civilising labours," + You'll have to think a little of your neighbours. + + "Prancing proconsuls" often stir up strife, + Which to abate diplomacy must strain. + Your PINTO seems to mean war to the knife-- + He's too much given to the 'Ercles vein. + I'm sure I do not want to hurt your feelings, + I simply say I can't stand SERPA'S dealings. + + Plain English this, my little Portuguee, + And BARROS GOMES will tell you I mean it. + Fight? Pigmy _versus_ Titan? Fiddlededee! + My meaning--without menaces, you'll glean it-- + Is this--I would not hector, no, nor "nag," + Only, my lad--_you'll just come off that Flag!_ + + * * * * * + +LONDON FOR THE LONDONERS; + +_Or, How to Please Everybody_. + +SCENE--_Railway Compartment._ BROWN _and_ JONES _discovered reading +Newspapers._ + +_Brown_ (_putting down his journal_). Not much news, Sir. + +_Jones_ (_following the example_). Quite so, Sir--not much. + +_Brown._ Perhaps, Sir, the most interesting item is this talk about London +Improvement. + +_Jones._ So I think, Sir. But what do we want with this plan for widening +the Strand, and making a road to Holborn? It seems to me, Sir, that the +suburbs are being neglected. + +_Brown._ I agree with you, Sir. Now, if they would develop the North of +London, it would be more to the purpose. If they would run a road direct +from Charing Cross to, say Zanzibar Terrace, Upper Kensal Green, West, it +would really be of service to the public. + +_Jones._ Very likely, Sir--very likely. For my part, it seems to me that +Chiswick also requires a helping hand. The construction of a broad +boulevard running from Charing Cross in a straight line to, say, Upham Park +Road, would tend to show that the County Council justly appreciated its own +responsibilities. And I say this, knowing the necessities of Chiswick, for +in that neighbourhood I happen to reside. + +_Brown._ And I, too, Sir, am equally cognisant of the requirements of Upper +Kensal Green West. As a matter of fact, Sir, I happen to have a comfortable +house in Zanzibar Terrace. + +_Jones._ And I, Sir, a delightful villa in Upham Park Road. + +[_Whistle. Train enters tunnel, and further conversation is drowned by the +rattle of the carriages._ + + * * * * * + +A Musical Anticipation. + + FRED COWEN'S _Viking_ + Sure to be striking. + Think there is luck in + BARTON MCGUCKIN. + + * * * * * + + UNSOUGHT HONOUR.--After his last Birthday, Mr. + GLADSTONE was unanimously elected a Member of "the + Eighty Club." + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: PLAIN ENGLISH! + + JOHN BULL. "LOOK HERE, MY LITTLE FRIEND, I DON'T WANT TO + HURT YOUR LITTLE FEELINGS,--BUT, _COME OFF THAT + FLAG!!!_"] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Jenkinson_ (_to M. F. H., who dislikes being bothered_). +"WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS HORSE?" (_No answer._) "BRED HIM MYSELF, YOU +KNOW!" + +_M. F. H._ (_looking at Horse out of corner of his eye_). "UMPH! I THOUGHT +YOU COULDN'T HAVE BEEN SUCH A SILLY IDIOT AS TO HAVE _BOUGHT_ HIM!"] + + * * * * * + +OLD COLDS FOR NEW. + +(_A Fairy Tale of Anglo-Russian Origin._) + +ONCE upon a time there was a feeble little Ailment called +"Cold-in-the-head," which was treated in the most contemptuous fashion by +its relations. The nearest of its kith and kin--Measles and +Scarlatina--absolutely laughed when its name was mentioned, and scarcely +recognised it as a connection. So Cold-in-the-head had rather a bad time of +it generally. + +One day the feeble little Ailment was wandering aimlessly about in search +of a resting-place, when it came upon an enormous establishment thronged +with thousands of working-men. When the _employes_ are described as +"working-men," it is not, however, quite accurate, for at that moment they +were not working. + +"Why are you idle?" sneezed out little Cold-in-the-head in a tone of +compassion. + +"Because," replied one of the _employes_, rather gruffly, "there is nothing +to do. If you want further information, you had better inquire at that +office." + +And the man pointed to a door bearing the legend, "Editor's Room." The poor +little Ailment entered the apartment, and found a Gentleman seated in front +of a desk covered with papers. The Gentleman was staring before him, and +the ink in his pen had dried up. + +"What do you want?" asked the Gentleman. "And why don't you shut the door +behind you?" + +"I should cease to exist without draughts," explained the poor little +Ailment, "and please don't speak roughly to me, as I want to help you." + +"You help me!" exclaimed the Editor--for the Gentleman was an Editor. "How +can you do that?" + +"I think I can give you a subject." + +"You are very welcome if you can do that," was the reply, "as in this dead +season of the year ideas are as scarce as coals; nay scarcer. But surely, +didn't you do something for the Press ages ago?" + +"That was in the 'forties;' but I am quite different now." + +Then the little Ailment related to the Editor stories of Russia, and the +East, and all sorts of wonderful things. + +"Well," murmured the Editor, after some consideration, "I think you may be +useful, after all, if we are helped by the Doctors." + + * * * * * + +"What a fuss they are making about this new rival of ours!" said Measles, +angrily. + +"Too absurd!" commented Scarlatina, in a tone of annoyance. + +Then there was a grand procession. First came Correspondents, then +Interviewed Physicians, then the General Public. It was a sight that had +never been seen before. In the midst of the excitement an Ailment appeared. + +"Why, bless me!" cried Measles. "Only fancy!" + +"Can I believe my eyes?" shouted Scarlatina. "Why, it's poor little +Cold-in-the-head, that no one used to care a jot about six months ago!" + +"Silence!" said the Ailment, with great dignity. "You must learn to treat +me with the respect due to my exalted station. And please don't call me +'Cold-in-the-head,' for I am known as 'The Russian Influenza!'" + +Then the Ailment turned towards _Mr. Punch_, who (as was his wont) was +smiling, and bade him do homage. + +"Not a bit of it," exclaimed the Sage of Fleet Street, raising a glass of +Ammoniated Tincture of Quinine to his lips, and quaffing merrily a +teaspoonful. "I defy you! You are puffed up with conceit, my poor little +Illness, and when, in a few weeks' time, we have another sensation to talk +and think about, you will sink back into your native obscurity." + +And _Mr. Punch_ (as the event will prove) was--as he always is--entirely +right! + + * * * * * + +AT THE PORTE ST. MARTIN.--If there were ever any question as to the genius +of SARA BERNHARDT, she has now settled it by appearing as _Jeanne d'Arc_, +and showing us what she is Maid of. By the way, as of course she wears +golden or auburn hair, _Jeanne d'Arc_ must appear as _Jeanne_ Light. +Irreverent scoffers may say this is historically correct, as from their +point of view _Joan_ was rather light-headed. Of course, _Joan_ is coming +over to London. Why not to Mr. HARE'S Theatre, and finish the evening with +a prime Garrick Stake. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: MR. PUNCH'S EXHIBITION OF GRAND "OLD + MASTERS."] + + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: "ALL ALIVE!" + + _Cheesemonger._ "WHAT IS IT, MY DEAR?" + + _Little Girl._ "OH, MOTHER'S SENT BACK THIS PIECE O' + CHEESE, 'CAUSE FATHER SAYS IF WE WANTS ANY BAIT WHEN + HE'S A GOIN' A FISHIN', HE CAN DIG 'EM UP IN OUR + GARDEN!"] + + * * * * * + +A COMING BIG BORE. + +_Being a probable Extract from the "City Intelligence" for 1900._ + +THE half-yearly meeting to discuss the Report just issued by the Chairman +and Directors of the Amalgamated International Anglo-French Submarine +Channel Tunnel Railway Company was held in the Company's Fortress Boardroom +yesterday afternoon, and, owing to the present critical Continental +outlook, as might have been expected, succeeded in securing the attendance +of an unusually large number of shareholders. + +The Chairman, who on rising was received with prolonged hooting and a +chorus, again and again renewed _con amore_ by the assembled audience, of +"_And he's a jolly bad fellow!_" having, at length, though frequently +interrupted, obtained something like a hearing, was understood to say, that +he had little to offer in the shape of comment on the Report submitted to +the meeting. (_Groans._) The causes of its unsatisfactory nature were +patent to all. Owing to their having been compelled, in what he now fully +recognised was a slavish and mistaken obedience to a popular clamour (_a +Voice, "You're right!_"), three years ago, in the height of a sudden scare +about invasion--("_Oh! oh!_")--to let the water in and flood the +Tunnel--(_groans_)--they had been occupied ever since in pumping it out +again, and though now he was glad to announce that the last bucketful had +been emptied out, and that the traffic would be resumed +forthwith--(_cheers_)--still the operation had cost them three millions of +money, that they had to get from the market in the shape of Seventeen per +Cent. First Preference Debentures--("_Oh! oh!_")--on which, however, he +trusted that a favourable season's receipts might enable them possibly to +pay a next half-year's dividend of three and sixpence. (_Prolonged +groans._) It was not much; still, it was something. ("_Oh! oh!_") But if +they wished to secure even this modest remuneration for their money, they +must make up their minds, especially at the present moment, when there was +a daily,--he might almost say, an hourly,--expectation of the withdrawal of +their Ambassador from Paris, that there must be no more craven yielding to +delusive impulses of an idiotic patriotism--(_loud cheers_),--in a word, no +more talk about closing the Tunnel on the paltry plea of "national +security." (_Prolonged cheering._) He was glad to hear those cheers. It was +an endorsement of the standpoint that he and his Directors meant to take in +the present crisis, which was, in effect, to remind themselves that they +were shareholders of the Anglo-French Submarine Channel Tunnel Railway +Company first--and Englishmen afterwards--(_thunders of applause, and loud +and prolonged cheering_);--and that, if called upon to shed their life's +blood, it would be solely in defence of that great engineering work, the +true monument of peace, in which their aspirations, their hopes, and, above +all, their capital, had been so fearlessly embarked and largely +invested.(_Renewed enthusiasm._) + +A Shareholder here rose, and said, that if there really was, as the +Chairman seemed to imply, a probability that war with our friendly +neighbours might break out at any minute, would it not be advisable, in the +interests of the Company, to come to some amicable and therefore +satisfactory commercial arrangement for the transit of troops through the +Tunnel, which, no doubt, it would be their first object to +secure.(_Laughter._) There might possibly be some stupid attempt of our own +Government forces to seize upon and even damage, with a view to rendering +the Tunnel useless, the works commanding this end of it. Should not a +Volunteer Corps of Shareholders be at once organised--("_Hear! +hear!_")--for the purpose of keeping them until the French Military +Authorities came over in sufficient force to enable them to seize and +securely hold them against all comers? He trusted he was not wanting in a +well-balanced and legitimate patriotism--("_No! no!_")--but like their +respected Chairman, he felt that there was a higher claim, a louder call +than that addressed to an Englishman by his country, and that was the deep, +grim, stern and stirring appeal made to the Seventeen per Cent. +Debenture-holder by his Company.(_Roars of laughter._) + +Considerable uproar here arose over the ejection from the meeting of a +protesting Shareholder, who injudiciously proposed an Amendment to the +Report to the effect that, "In the face of grave National danger, the +Company ought to be prepared, even if it involved serious financial loss, +to close their Tunnel, if such a step should be regarded as necessary to +the security of the country by the military advisers of the Government." +This proposition was howled down, and the Chairman was again about to +address the now somewhat quieted meeting, when a copy of an evening paper, +announcing the declaration of war, and the simultaneous seizure of the +British end of the Tunnel that morning by two hundred French troops, who +had crossed from Boulogne by yesterday's evening Mail-boat, and had passed +the night at Folkestone in disguise, was handed up on to the platform. + +THE CHAIRMAN (_after reading out the various items of intelligence to the +Audience, who listened to them with breathless excitement_). Well, +Gentlemen, in the face of this not entirely unsuspected +news--(_laughter_)-our course is, I think, pretty clear. We must at once +dispatch a deputation to make the best terms we can with the French General +in command, for the transit of the one or two, or even three hundred +thousand troops they propose to bring over. (_Cheers._) Even if we get only +an excursion fare out of them, it will be something. ("_Hear, hear!_") And, +at least, we shall be able to congratulate ourselves on this occasion with +a sterling and heartfelt satisfaction that, whether the country go to the +dogs or not--(_roars of laughter_)--the property of the Company will, at +any rate, be preserved. (_Enthusiastic applause._) The Chairman, who +continued his address amid mingled cheers and laughter in the same strain, +having submitted the names to form the proposed deputation to the meeting, +the Shareholders dispersed, apparently in the highest spirits, singing a +parody of the great national ditty, in which the line, "_Britons ever, +ever, ever will be knaves_," with an accompaniment of loud guffaws of +laughter, struck the listening ear, as they betook themselves to their +respective homes. + + * * * * * + +THE IRISH QUESTION IN BOND STREET. + +VERY calmly and pleasantly is this matter settled at Messrs. DOWDESWELL'S +Galleries. Mr. O. RICKATSON takes us a mighty pleasant tour through +Wicklow, Wexford, and Waterford. He gives us his views on the Land Question +(Shure there are Sixty-two of them, bedad!) in Water-colours, and very +bright, breezy, and delightful they are. If they _will_ have Home Rule, if +they persist in having Ireland for the Irish, we have no desire to pick a +quarrel with this accomplished _aquarelliste_ (Ha! ha!) for showing us the +beauties of the "distrissful counthry;" and if we are not allowed to have +the real thing, we shall find the peaceful possession of Mr. RICKATSON'S +delightful pictures no mean substitute. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: ENTERTAINING AN ENTERTAINER. + + Mr. Toole, before partaking of all the farewell + luncheons, dinners, and suppers, previous to his + departure for Australia. + + Mr. J. L. Toole after all the farewell lunches, &c., &c. + ***P. & O. Co. won't make any reduction on taking a + quantity.] + + * * * * * + +THE PILFERER. + +TO ALL VOLAPUK-SPEAKING FOLK. + +THERE exists at this moment no institution which even aspires to be to the +Volapuk-speaking world what We were whilst still We remained in +Northumberland Street, and looked after things generally. The wise are few. +The governing minds are never numerous. But We have one, and We have +determined to expand it over a new Monthly Magazine. At the outset We, +being, after all, human, were confronted by the difficulty of finding a +title. Several suggested themselves to a Mind not lacking in scope. A few +may be mentioned. There was the _Filibuster_; the _Summum Bone-'em_; +_Macheath's Miscellany_; the _Monthly Marauder_; the _Eviscerator_; the +_Literary Leech_; the _Monthly Misappropriator_; the _Sixpenny Scoop_. Each +has its particular attraction and appropriateness. But, having submitted +the selection of titles for the consideration of some of the foremost men +of letters, lawyers, soldiers, scientists, and divines of our time, with a +request for an expression of their opinion, we decided upon the title which +appears at the head of these few preliminary remarks. We are the +_Pilferer_, price sixpence, published monthly; a reduction on taking a +quantity. + +The _Pilferer_ will not be a colourless reflection of public opinion for +the time being. It will certainly not be a Party organ, and that for +sufficient reason. Neither Party has at this moment any distinctive body of +doctrine, any well-conceived system of faith, which would justify Us in +labelling Our new monthly with a Party badge. Moreover than which, We have +some reason to believe that neither Party, nor any subdivision of Party, +particularly cares to be associated with Us. We shall therefore be +independent of Party, because, having a very clear, intelligible belief in +Ourselves, We are able to survey the struggles of contending parties from +the standpoint of sublime egotism. We are the man who can interpret the +best thought of his day in such a manner as to render it accessible to the +general intelligence of Our age. We are the true Prophet of Our time, and +We hope to make a modest profit out of Our new venture. Hence, Our first +starting point will be a deep and almost awestruck regard for the destinies +of the Volapuk-speaking race. The American Republic we especially take +under our wing (price of the Magazine in the United States 50 cents.), +whilst we work for the Empire, seek to strengthen it, to develop it, and, +when necessary, to extend it. We believe in Ourselves, in England, and in +Humanity. We are not mad. We do not "hear them dancing in the hall," as +used to happen when HENRY RUSSELL still filled the stage of the Concert +Hall. But we have our mission, which is to hold the world straight, keep +ourselves _en evidence_, and earn a modest living. + +How is this to be done? By the preaching of a man who energises the +activity of the Church by the ideals of chivalry and the production of a +Sixpenny Monthly, made up of pickings from other people's pockets. Visible +in many ways is the decadence of the Daily Press since We left it. The +Mentor of Young Democracy has abandoned philosophy, and stuffs the ears of +his TELEMACHUS with the skirts of CALYPSO'S petticoats, the latest scandals +of the Court, and the prurient purrings of abandoned womankind in places +where you accept the unaccustomed cigar, and drink the unfamiliar +champagne. All the more need, then, that there should be a Voice which, +like that of the Muezzin from the Eastern minaret, shall summon the +Faithful to the duties imposed by their belief. We go into this waste land +to possess it. It is capable of being made to flourish as of old under the +stimulating radiance of a great ideal, and the diligent and intelligent +culture of one who, like Ourselves, has the capacity for direction. + +Who will help Us? There is not a street in London, nor a village in the +country, which is not capable of producing, even at short notice, and under +slight pressure, a man or a woman who will spend two hours a week, every +week in the year, in more or less irksome voluntary exertion in order to +sell the _Pilferer_. To such we say, "If, by canvassing, or otherwise, you +secure, say, six subscribers, the _Pilferer_ shall be sent to you as long +as the six continue their subscriptions." In this case, the subscriptions +should be paid in advance. + +Are there any among the readers of the _Pilferer_ craving for counsel, for +sympathy, and for the consolation of pouring out their soul's grief at so +much a quart, so to speak? If so, may we ask them to communicate with Us? +Their cases, as they submit them, will be placed before such competent and +skilful advisers as We are able to gather round Us from the best men and +women in the Volapuk-speaking world. Their confidences will be printed free +of cost, and, touched up with the literary art that shaped many a spicy +series, are likely to produce copy at once tasty and cheap. We have a heap +of letters and post-cards from eminent persons to whom we submitted the +design lightly sketched above. They may be known as "Some Letters of Marque +to the Editor of the _Literary Privateer_." + + MR. GL-DST-NE. + +DEAR MR. PILFERER,--The idea you suggest appears to me highly useful, as +well as ingenious in relation to all who are able to appreciate it. +Personally I am outside this circle, and so will save my sixpence a month. +I hope you enjoyed your 'bus tour along the Commercial Road? + + Yours faithfully, W. E. GL-DST-NE. + + + Mr. B-lf-r. + + 1, _Carlton Gardens, S.W., Dec._ 12, '89. + +I THINK your scheme ought to prove useful. But isn't there some difficulty +with the original proprietors of the goods? If I can help you in any way, +by putting anyone in prison, pray count upon me. Obstruction must be put +down in any form in which it presents itself. + + Yours faithfully, + + A. J. B-LF-R. + + + EARL OF C-RN-RV-N. + +THERE is, no doubt, a large amount of valuable matter which appears from +time to time in the Magazines, but which, being buried under a mass of +unimportant writing, is overlooked. I have found this in reference to my +own contributions, which have occasionally been passed over by the public, +who have preferred to read the other contents. + + + LORD C-L-R-DGE. + +AT one time of my life I wrote far too many articles to have much opinion +of the ability required to produce them, or their value to anyone when +produced. What I did write was much better than the general run of +articles. Now I do not write, there is nothing in the Magazines. If you can +get it out for nothing, and sell it for sixpence, you will do well. + + + LORD W-LS-L-Y. + + _Ranger's House, Greenwich Park, S.E. Sunday._ + +DEAR MR. PILFERER,--In answer to your note, I have nothing to say of any +interest. + + W-LS-L-Y. + + + LORD T-NNYS-N. + + _Hangford, Freshwater, Isle of Wight._ + +LORD T-NNYS-N presents his compliments to _Mr. Pilferer_, and begs to point +out to him that had he thrust his corporeal presence upon Lord T-NNYS-N +over his garden hedge, or by his area-steps, he would have been +incontinently cast forth by the domestics. Lord T-NNYS-N finds it +impossible to discover any appreciable difference between that step and the +one whereby _Mr. Pilferer_ impertinently, through the medium of the +unsuspecting penny post, forces himself upon Lord T-NNYS-N'S notice, and +impudently begs him to assist him with a gratuitous advertisement for a +commercial undertaking. + + + MR. CHARLEY BATES. + + _Middle of Next Week. Nix Alley, No. 0._ + +DEAR PAL,--Excuse this address, but sometimes it's well not to go into too +many perticklers. I have yours giving me an account of your new lay. As far +as I can make out, there's a lot of tradesmen in London who, at +considerable give out of swag, get swell fellers to write articles for +them. Then _you_ plunge in, romp around, fill your pockets with the pick of +the lot, and go and sell it on your own hook. That's good. But what I like +best is the putting on of the bands and surplice, the taking of the good +book in the right hand, the uprising of the eyeballs, and the general +trotting out of the loftiest principles, the purest motives, and the +general welfare of our brother men. You are a regular wonner, old pal, and +should do; leastways, you have the good wishes of your old friend, + + CHARLEY. + + * * * * * + +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, Volume +98, January 18, 1890, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 21590.txt or 21590.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/1/5/9/21590/ + +Produced by V. L. Simpson, Malcolm Farmer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +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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