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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104,
+February 11, 1893, by Various, Edited by Francis Burnand
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, February 11, 1893
+
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Francis Burnand
+
+Release Date: June 12, 2007 [eBook #21818]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI,
+VOL. 104, FEBRUARY 11, 1893***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Matt Whittaker, Juliet Sutherland, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+ file which includes the original illustrations.
+ See 21818-h.htm or 21818-h.zip:
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/8/1/21818/21818-h/21818-h.htm)
+ or
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/8/1/21818/21818-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
+
+VOL. 104
+
+FEBRUARY 11, 1893
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LAST WOMAN.
+
+(_A contemporary Pendant to "The Last Man."_)
+
+ [It is stated that the dreaded Crinoline has actually made its
+ appearance in one or two quarters.]
+
+ All modish shapes must melt in gloom,
+ Great WORTH himself must die,
+ Before the Sex again assume
+ EVE'S sweet simplicity!
+ I saw a vision in my sleep,
+ Which made me bow my head and weep
+ As one aghast, accurst!
+ Was it a spook before me past?
+ Of women I beheld the last,
+ As ADAM saw the first.
+
+ Regent Street seemed "No Thoroughfare,"
+ Bond Street looked weird, inhuman;
+ The spectres of past fashions were
+ Around that lonely Woman.
+ Some were the work of native hands,
+ Some had arrived from foreign lands,
+ Nondescript jumbles some!
+ Pall-Mall had now nor sound nor tread,
+ Park Lane was silent as the dead,
+ Belgravia was dumb.
+
+ Yet, lighthouse-like, that lone one stood,
+ Or whisked her skirts around,
+ Like a wild wind that sweeps the wood,
+ And strews with leaves the ground.
+ Singing, "Our hour is come, O Sun
+ Of Fashion! We'll have no more fun.
+ Solitude is _too_ slow!
+ True thou hast worn ten thousand shapes
+ (In spite of man's sour gibes and japes),
+ But--now the thing lacks go.
+
+ "What though the grumbler Man put forth
+ His pompous power and skill!
+ He could not make Woman and WORTH
+ The vassals of his will;--
+ Fashion, I mourn thy parted sway,
+ Thou dim discrownéd Queen! To play
+ To empty box and stall;
+ To dress--when not another She
+ Exists to quicken rivalry--
+ No, it won't pay at all!
+
+ "Go, let oblivion's curtain fall
+ Upon the works of men!
+ Nothing they did that's worth recall,
+ With sword, or spade, or pen.
+ Their bumptious bunglings bring not back!
+ Man always _was_ a noisy quack
+ Who thought himself a god;
+ But when he fancied he had scored
+ Prodigiously, the Sex he bored
+ Subdued him with a nod.
+
+ "Now I am weary. No one tries
+ The fit of new attire!
+ Doom, that the joys of Dress denies,
+ Bids Woman's bliss expire.
+ But shall _La Mode_ know final death?
+ Forbid it Woman's latest breath!
+ Death--who is _male_--shan't boast
+ The eclipse of Fashion. Such a pall
+ Shall not like Darkness cover all--
+ Till _I_ give up the ghost!
+
+ "What would most vex and worry _him_,
+ Dull, modeless Man, whose spark
+ Long (beside Woman's) burning dim,
+ Has now gone down in dark?
+ Ha! He'd kick up the _greatest_ shine
+ (If he _could_ kick) at--CRINOLINE.
+ Were he recalled to breath,
+ I'll have one last man-mocking spree
+ By _donning hooped skirts_. Victory!
+ _This_ takes all sting from Death!
+
+ "Go, Sun, while Fashion holds me up,
+ Swollen skirt and skimpy waist
+ Shall fill--male--sorrow's bitter cup,
+ And mortify--male--taste!
+ Go, tell the spheres that sweep through space,
+ Thou saw'st the last of EVE'S fair race,
+ In high ecstatic passion;
+ The darkening universe defy,
+ To quench her taste for Toggery,
+ Or shake her faith in Fashion!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "THE GOVERNESS WHO, MA' SAID, WOULDN'T DO."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A PLAINT FROM PARNASSUS.
+
+(_By an "Unrecommended" Resident._)
+
+ [Mr. GLADSTONE (replying to Mr. JOHNSTON, of Ballykilbeg) announced
+ that no recommendation had been submitted to Her MAJESTY upon the
+ subject of the succession to the office of Poet Laureate, and that
+ there was no immediate intention of submitting one.]
+
+ Glorious Apollo! This is wondrous hard!
+ Fancy JOHN BULL without Official Bard!
+ His plight is sad as that of the great men
+ Who lived, unmarked by the Poetic Pen,
+ Before great AGAMEMNON. Ah, my HORACE,
+ Britons are a Boeotian, heavy, slow race!
+ As for the "Statesman" who treats bards so shabbily,
+ 'Twill serve him right if thine "_illacrimabile_"
+ Applies to him. A Premier, but no Poet?
+ England, you are dishonoured, and don't know it.
+ Void of a _Sacer Vates_ to enshrine
+ In gorgeous trope and long-resounding line,
+ Thy Victories, and Weddings, Shows and Valour?
+ Parnassus shakes, the Muses pine in pallor.
+ When foreign princelings mate our sweet princesses,
+ When Rads of fleets and armies made sad messes,
+ And stand in need of verbal calcitration;
+ When--let's say ASHMEAD-BARTLETT--saves the nation
+ In the great name of glorious Saint Jingo;
+ When BULL gives toko or delivers stingo.
+ To Fuzzy-Wuzzy, or such foolish savages;
+ When our great guns commit most gallant ravages
+ Among the huts of some unhappy village,
+ Where naughty "niggers" have gone in for pillage;
+ When SOMEONE condescends to be high-born,
+ Or deigns to die, who now shall toot the horn,
+ Or twang the lyre, emitting verse divine,
+ For Fame and--say, about a pound per line?
+ I must submit. I have not been "submitted,"
+ But poetless JOHN BULL is to be pitied.
+ Of course self-praise is no "recommendation,"
+ (In GLADSTONE'S sense) or else, unhappy nation,
+ I, even I, could spare you natural worry at,
+ Your non-possession of a Poet-Laureate!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+IN A PICKWICKIAN SENSE.--When "a nate Irishman" (as the song has it) "meets
+with a friend," he incontinently "for love knocks him down," whether with a
+"sprig of shillelagh" or a "flower of speech," depends upon circumstances.
+In either case he "means no harm," or at any rate far less harm than the
+phlegmatic and matter-of-fact Saxon is apt to fancy. Probably, therefore,
+an "Irish Phrase Book," giving the real "meaning" of Hibernian rhetorical
+epithets, would prove a great peacemaker, in Parliament and out. Colonel
+SAUNDERSON, when he had recovered his temper, and with it his wit, "toned
+down" the provocative "murderous ruffian," into the inoffensive "excited
+politician." But what a pity it is that "excited politicians" so often
+string themselves up to (verbal) "ruffianism."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE LAST LIGHT.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ It scarce can be thou art the last
+ To fade before my watchful gaze;
+ So short the part that each one plays,
+ A flickering flame, and life is past.
+
+ And thou wert clothed in robe of snow,
+ A crimson veil around thy head,
+ And now thou liest, charred and dead,
+ Erstwhile with ruddy fire aglow.
+
+ I held thee in a fond embrace
+ To guard thee from the whistling wind;
+ And not another can I find
+ To comfort me and take thy place.
+
+ And though I lay aside my weeds,
+ Yet like a widow I bemoan;
+ Nor all the wealth the Indies own,
+ Could satisfy my present needs.
+
+ Thy spark has vanished from my sight,
+ Useless cigar, tobacco, pipe;
+ Of perfect misery the type,
+ A man without another light.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+EMPLOYMENT FOR THE UNEMPLOYED.--On Tuesday, in last week, the Unemployed
+had their hands full, when at Temple Avenue they unsuccessfully attempted
+to overcome the effective resistance of the Police. The Unemployed might
+have been better employed.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE STAR OF HOPE.
+
+(_A New Naval Ode._)
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ [The Royal Commission on Telegraphic Communication between Lighthouses
+ and Lightships and the Shore, have issued their first report
+ recommending immediate action in the more urgent cases. Dealing with
+ the same subject, on November 28, 1891, _Mr. Punch_ said:--
+
+ "_Punch_ pictures with prophetic pen, a brighter, cheerier page,
+ Which _must be turned_, and speedily."--_See "The Sweet Little
+ Cherub that Sits up Aloft_," (_Modern Version as it Must Be_) Vol.
+ ci., p. 254.
+
+ _Mr. Punch_ is mightily pleased that his injunction has been obeyed,
+ and that his prophecy is in process of fulfilment.]
+
+
+ I.
+
+ Ye Mariners of England,
+ Shipwrecked in our home seas,
+ How this will calm your wives' wild fears,
+ And give your stout hearts ease!
+ Hope's blue eyes gleam above the main,
+ Her lifted light will glow,
+ And sweep o'er the deep,
+ When the stormy winds do blow;
+ When the tempest rages loud and long,
+ And the stormy winds do blow.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ The spirit comfort gathers,
+ From schemes designed to save
+ Brave fellows, who have dared the deep,
+ Near home to find a grave.
+ See how o'er rock and quicksand fell,
+ The Electric ray doth glow,
+ And sweep o'er the deep,
+ While the stormy winds do blow;
+ While the tempest rages loud and long,
+ And the stormy winds do blow!
+
+
+ III.
+
+ BRITANNIA needs as bulwarks
+ Light-towers along the steep,
+ To save her gallant sons from graves
+ Near home, though on the deep.
+ With levin as from Jovian hand
+ She'll light the floods below,
+ As they roar on the shore,
+ When the stormy winds do blow;
+ When the tempest rages loud and long,
+ And the stormy winds do blow.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ The Mariners of England
+ Glad eyes shall shoreward turn
+ In danger's night. Behold, brave hearts,
+ Where the Star of Hope doth burn!
+ Science, tired by Humanity,
+ Their grateful song shall flow
+ To the fame of your name,
+ When the storm has ceased to blow;
+ When the storm is o'er, and they're safe ashore,
+ Thanks to Hope's beacon-glow!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+_Q._ Are there any Lighthouses away from the Coast?--_A._ Certainly. _Q._
+Where?--_A._ In London. _Q._ Name them.--_A._ The Comedy, Toole's, the
+Opéra Comique, and Strand. All Light-and-leading Houses.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: A SNUB.
+
+"FIFTY GUINEAS FOR A BOA AND A MUFF! THAT'S RATHER DEAR, ISN'T IT?"
+
+"WE DON'T KEEP CATSKIN, MADAM!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A METROPOLITAN MAYOR'S NEST.
+
+ ["The Common Council is stated to have appointed a 'Fighting
+ Committee' to oppose the Unification of London, and to take steps for
+ the formation of separate Municipalities in different parts of the
+ Metropolis."--_Daily Paper._]
+
+_Lord Mayor's Day._--Ah, if only we had not got Parliament to sanction the
+plan of splitting London up into distinct Municipalities, what a proud day
+this would be for me! As it is, must try and remember that I am _not_ LORD
+MAYOR of London at all, but only Mayor of the new Corporate Borough of
+Cripplegate Without, one of the half-dozen boroughs into which the old City
+has been divided.
+
+_The Show._--Well, thank goodness, we do keep _that_ up! All the 674 Mayors
+of all the different districts of London take part in it. That reminds me
+that I must put on my Civic robes, edged with imitation ermine, and my
+aluminium chain of office, and prepare to start. A little hitch to begin
+with. Mayors all assembled outside Guildhall. Mayor of South-South-West
+Hammersmith tries to join us. Nobody seems to know him. Very suspicious,
+especially as, on referring to official records, we find that there is no
+such borough as South-South-West Hammersmith! We tell him so. He replies,
+sulkily, that it was created last night by a Special Vote of the South-West
+Hammersmith Town Council, who found the work getting too much for them, and
+that, anyhow, "he intends to take part in the procession." Awkward--but we
+have to yield.
+
+_In the Streets._--The 675 Mayors don't inspire as much respect as I should
+like. Perhaps it is due to the fact that a regular scramble took place for
+seats in the old LORD MAYOR'S Coach, in the course of which the Mayor of
+Tottenham Court Road was badly pommeled by the Mayor of Battersea Rise, and
+the coach itself had one side knocked out of it. Also that we other Mayors
+have to follow on foot, and are repeatedly asked if we are a procession of
+the Unemployed!
+
+_At the Law Courts._--In the good old days Lord Chief Justice used to
+deliver a flowery harangue congratulating the Chief Magistrate on his
+elevation. But who _is_ the Chief Magistrate now? To-day a free fight among
+the Mayors to get first into the Court. In consequence, Chief Justice
+angrily orders Court to be cleared, and threatens to commit us for
+contempt! Yet surely in former days a Judge would have been imprisoned in
+the deepest dungeons of the Mansion House for much less.
+
+_Evening._--The hospitable custom of the Ministerial banquet still
+retained. Prime Minister adopts tactics of the Music Hall "Lion Comique,"
+and, after addressing a few genial words to the guests assembled at the
+table of the Mayor of West Ham, jumps into brougham, and appears a few
+minutes later at Mayor of Shadwell's banquet, and so on to Poplar and
+Whitechapel, and as many as he can crowd in. Other Ministers do the same.
+Still, not enough Cabinet Councillors to go round, and to-night I am
+horrified to find that the assistant Under-Secretary to the deputy Labour
+Commissioner had been chosen to reply to the toast of the health of the
+Ministry at _my_ banquet! Ichabod, indeed! [By the way, what a good name
+for a new Lord Mayor, "Ichabod," say, if knighted, "Sir THOMAS ICHABOD."
+Air to be played by band on his entering Guildhall, "Ichabody meet a body."
+But alas! these are dreams! Ichabod!] Yet, as the only building in which
+the Mayor of Cripplegate Without can entertain his guest is the fourth
+floor of an unused warehouse, perhaps we really don't deserve a higher
+official. Still, one can't help regretting that the City, in its natural
+dread of the so-called "Unification of London," persuaded the Government to
+agree to this sort of "Punification of London."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+TOAST FOR THE NEXT "QUEENSLAND MEAT" BANQUET.--"The Army, the Gravy, and
+the Preserved Forces!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE MAN FROM BLANKLEY'S.
+
+A STORY IN SCENES.
+
+ SCENE V.--_The Dining-room; walls distempered chocolate; gaselier with
+ opal-tinted globes; two cast-iron Cavaliers holding gas-lamps on the
+ mantel-piece. Oil-portrait, enlarged from photograph, of_ Mrs.
+ TIDMARSH, _over side-board; on other walls, engravings--"Belshazzar's
+ Feast," "The Wall of Wailing at Jerusalem," and_ DORÉ'S _"Christian
+ Martyrs." The guests have just sat down_; Lord STRATHSPORRAN _is
+ placed between_ Miss SEATON _and his hostess, and opposite_ Mr.
+ GILWATTLE.
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself_). Deuced quaint-looking people--wish they
+wouldn't all eat their soup at me! Why can't somebody say something? Wonder
+who's the Lady in black, all over big silver tears--like a foreign funeral.
+Don't feel equal to talking to MARJORY again till I've had some Sherry.
+(_After sipping it._) Wormwood, by Jove! Champagne will probably be
+syrup--touch old GILWATTLE up if he isn't careful--ah, _he_ jibs at the
+Sherry!
+
+_Uncle Gab._ Where the dickens did MONTY get this stuff, MARIA? Most
+'strordinary bitter taste!
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ (_to herself, in an agony_). I _knew_ that bottle of GWENNIE'S
+Quinine Wine had got down into the cellar _somehow_! (_Aloud._) Don't drink
+it, Uncle, please, if it isn't _quite_ what you like!
+
+_Uncle Gab._ I'll take his Lordship's opinion. What do _you_ think of this
+Sherry, my Lord? Don't you find it rather--eh?
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_observing his hostess frown at him imperiously_). Oh,
+excellent, Sir--very--er--mellow and agreeable!
+
+_Uncle Gab._ Ha--yes--now your Lordship mentions it, there's a sort of
+nuttiness about it.
+
+ [_He empties his glass._
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself_). There is--a _rotten_-nuttiness! I'm hanged
+if he hasn't bolted it! Wonderful old Johnny!
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ (_to him, in an under-tone_). You said _quite_ the right thing!
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_ambiguously_). Oh, not at all!
+
+ [_Turbot and lobster-sauce are taken round, and conversation becomes
+ general._
+
+_Conversational Scraps._ Assure you if I touch the smallest particle of
+lobster it instantly flies to my.... Yes, _alive_. A dear friend of mine
+positively had to leave her lodgings at the seaside--she was so disturbed
+by the screams of the lobsters being boiled in the back-kitchen.... I was
+reading only the other day that oysters' hearts continue to beat down to
+the very moment they are being assimilated.... _What_ they must suffer,
+poor dears! Couldn't there be a law that they should only be eaten under
+chloroform, or something?... I _never_ get tired of turbot--cod, now, I
+_don't_ care for, and salmon I _like_--but I can't digest--_why_, is more
+than I can tell you.--(&c.)
+
+[Illustration: "Don't make a fuss--you can take _one_ glass, as he wishes
+it."]
+
+_Miss Seaton._ (_to herself._) To see DOUGLAS here a--a _paid
+parasite_--and actually seeming to _enjoy_ his food--it's like some
+dreadful nightmare--I _can't_ believe it! But I'm glad he hasn't the face
+to speak to me!
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to_ SEAKALE _offering Hock._) If you please. (_To himself,
+after tasting._) Why, it's quite decent! I begin to feel up to having this
+out with MARJORY. (_Aloud._) Miss SEATON, isn't it rather ridiculous for
+two such old friends as we are to sit through dinner in deadly silence?
+Can't you bring yourself to talk to me? we shan't be overheard. You might
+tell me _why_ you think me such a ruffian--it would start us, at any rate!
+
+_Miss Seaton._ I don't _want_ to be started--and if you really don't know
+why I hate your coming here in this way, Lord STRATHSPORRAN, it's useless
+to explain!
+
+_Lord Strath._ Oh, we got as far as that upstairs, didn't we? And I may be
+very dense, but for the life of me I can't see yet why I shouldn't have
+come! Of course, I didn't know I was in for _this_ exactly, but, to tell
+you the truth, I'm by way of being here on business, and I didn't care much
+whether they were cheery or not, so long as I got what I _came_ for, don't
+you know!
+
+_Miss Seaton._ Of course, that is the main thing in your eyes--but I didn't
+think you would confess it!
+
+_Lord Strath._ Why, you know how keen I used to be about my Egyptian
+work--you remember the book on Hieroglyphs I always meant to write? I'm
+getting on with it, though of course my time's a good deal taken up just
+now. And, whether I get anything out of these people or not, I've met _you_
+again, MARJORY--I don't mind anything else!
+
+_Miss Seaton._ Don't remind me of--of what you used to be, and--and you are
+not to call me MARJORY any more. We have met--and I only hope and pray we
+may never meet again. Please don't talk any more!
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself._) That's a facer! I wonder if MARJORY'S
+quite--is this the effect of that infernal influenza?
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ (_to him in an under-tone_). You and Miss SEATON appear to be
+on very familiar terms. I really feel it my duty to ask you when and how
+you made the acquaintance of my daughter's governess.
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself_). The governess! That explains a lot. Poor
+little MARJORY! (_Aloud._) Really? I congratulate you. I had the honour of
+knowing Miss SEATON in Scotland a year or two ago, and this is the first
+time we have met since.
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ Indeed? That is _so far_ satisfactory. I hope you will
+understand that, so long as Miss SEATON is in my employment, I cannot allow
+her to--er--continue your acquaintanceship--it is not as if you were in a
+position----
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_with suppressed wrath._) Forgive me--but, as Miss SEATON
+shows no desire whatever to renew my acquaintance, I don't see that we need
+discuss my position, or hers either. And I must decline to do so.
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ (_crimsoning._) Oh, very _well_. I am not accustomed to be told
+what subjects I am to discuss at my own table, but (_scathingly_) no doubt
+your _position here_ gives you the right to be independent--ahoo!
+
+_Lord Strath._ I venture to think so. (_To himself._) Can't make this woman
+out--is she trying to be rude, or what?
+
+_Uncle Gab._ Hullo, your Lordship's got no Champagne! How's that? It's all
+_right_--"FIZZLER, '84," my Lord!
+
+_Lord Strath._ I daresay--but the fact is, I am strictly forbidden to touch
+it.
+
+_Uncle Gab._ Pooh!--if your Lordship will excuse the remark--_this_ won't
+do you any harm--comes out of my own cellar, so I _ought_ to know. (_To_
+SEAKALE.) Here, you, fill his Lordship's glass, d'ye hear?
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ (_in a rapid whisper._) Don't make a fuss--you can take _one_
+glass as he wishes it!
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself._) Can I though? If she imagines I'm going to
+poison myself to please her uncle! (SEAKALE _gives him half a glass, after
+receiving a signal from_ Mrs. T.) I suppose I must just----(_After
+tasting._) Why it's _dry_! Then why the deuce was I cautioned not to----?
+
+_Uncle Gab._ That's a fine wine, isn't it, my Lord? Not much of _that_ in
+the market nowadays, I can tell you!
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself._) Precious little _here_. (_Aloud._) So I
+should imagine, Sir.
+
+_Uncle Gab._ Your Lordship mustn't pass this _entrée_. My niece's cook
+knows her business, I will say that for her.
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_as he helps himself._) I have already discovered that she
+is an artist.
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ (_in displeased surprise._) Then you know my cook _too_? An
+_artist_? and she seems such a _respectable_ person! Pray what sort of
+pictures does she paint?
+
+_Lord Strath._ Pictures? Oh, really I don't know--potboilers probably.
+
+ [Mrs. TID. _glares at him suspiciously_.
+
+_Conversational Scraps._ And when I got into the hall and saw them all
+sitting in a row with their faces blacked, I said "I'm sure _they_ can't be
+the Young Men's Christian Association!"... Hysteria? my poor dear wife is a
+dreadful sufferer from it--I've known her unable to sleep at all except
+with one foot curled round her neck!... (&c. &c.)
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself._) There's no doubt about it--this woman _is_
+trying to snub me--hardly brings herself to talk at all--and _then_ she's
+beastly rude! What did she ask me here _for_ if she can't be civil! If she
+wasn't my hostess--I'll try her once more, she may know something about
+antiquities--(_Aloud._) I suppose Mr. CARTOUCHE keeps his collection in a
+separate room? I was told he has some hunting scarabs of the Amenhoteps
+that I am very curious to see.
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ (_stiffly_). Mr. CARTOUCHE may keep all sorts of disagreeable
+pets, for anything _I_ know to the contrary.
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself, in amazement_). Pets! I'm hanged if I let
+myself be snubbed like this! (_Aloud._) I'm afraid you have very little
+sympathy with his tastes?
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ Sympathy, indeed! I don't even know if he _has_ any tastes. I
+am not in the habit of troubling myself about my next-door neighbour's
+affairs.
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_with a gasp_). Your next-door----! (_He pulls himself
+together._) To be sure--of course not--stupid of me to ask! (_To himself._)
+Good Heavens!--these _aren't_ the CARTOUCHES! I'm _at the wrong
+dinner-party_--and this awful woman thinks I've done it on purpose! No
+wonder she's so confoundedly uncivil!... And MARJORY knows it, too, and
+won't speak to me! Perhaps they _all_ know it.... What on earth am I to
+do?... I feel such a fool!
+
+_Miss Seaton_ (_to herself_). How perfectly _ghastly_ DOUGLAS is looking!
+Didn't he _really_ know the CARTOUCHES lived next door?... Then--_oh_, what
+an idiot I've been! It's a mistake--he _doesn't_ come from BLANKLEY'S at
+all! I _must_ speak to him--I must tell him how----no, I _can't_--I forgot
+how horrid I've been to him! I should have to tell him I believed
+_that_--and I'd rather die! No, it's too late--it's too late now!
+
+ [Miss SEATON _and_ Lord STRATHSPORRAN _sit regarding the tablecloth
+ with downcast eyes, and expressions of the deepest gloom and
+ confusion_.
+
+(_End of Scene V._)
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Rhyme by a Rad.
+
+ [The question where the Liberal-Unionists shall sit has excited some
+ discussion.]
+
+ They have stolen the old Tory togs bit by bit,
+ And we wish they would openly don them.
+ However, it matters not much _where_ they sit,
+ For wherever it be we'll sit _on_ them!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"RAILWAY RATES."--Whatever question there may be on this subject, there can
+be none whatever as to the rates at which "The Bournemouth Express," "The
+Granville L. C. & D.," and "The Flying Dutchman," severally travel. Such
+rates are first rate.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+CON. FOR THE CONSOLATION OF THE MANY SUFFERERS FROM A CURRENT
+CATCH-WORD.--_Q._ What is the only thing that is _really_
+"up-to-date"?--_A._ A palm-tree.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+MEM. FOR MR. VIVIAN AND THE ROYALISTS.--The Last of the STUARTS,--STUART
+_KNILL_. There can be none after _Nil_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+DRAMATIC WITHOUT BEING STAGEY.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The plan, successfully inaugurated, and, within the last fortnight, still
+more successfully carried out by Sir DRURIOLANUS OPERATICUS BALMASCUS
+PANTOMIMICUS, of giving what may be called "unstagey representations" of
+popular Operas--that is, popular Operas sung and acted without the aid of
+scenes or properties (though "substitutes" may be permitted, as, for
+example, a chair with four legs complete would represent a horse, and a
+round table a tower); the singers, however, being in costume, may work an
+extensive "Transformation" Scene (which is quite in Sir DRURIO'S line) in
+the Dramatic and Operatic world, and may effect such a change as will save
+thousands to a Manager. Why not go a step further? Why have "costumes," or
+even "hand-properties"? Why not leave everything, except the perfection of
+the singing and the dramatic action, to the imagination of the audience?
+The prices of admission would be proportionately lowered, and the numbers
+admitted, in all probability, would be trebled, on which hypothesis a
+calculation may be based. What an exercise it would be for the imagination
+of the audience, were the Statue Scene from _Don Giovanni_ to be given with
+the Basso Profondo in evening dress, who represents the Stony Commendatore,
+seated astride a plank resting on tressels placed on a table which would
+have been substituted for the stone pedestal, while the Don or _Leporello_
+(it doesn't much matter which) sings his asides to the audience! Here is
+novelty, and a great attraction! It is returning to Elizabethan days, when
+Managers called a spade a spade, and then so labelled it to prevent
+mistakes.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SONG FROM "AS YOU LIKE IT" (_for the Member for East Galway, arranged by
+Colonel Saunderson, M.P._).--"What shall he have who shot the Deer?"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A BANK NOTE.--The most likely time for obtaining payment "in hard cash," is
+when the Money Market "hardens a little," as was the case, so _The Times_
+Money Article informed us, last Friday.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: AN EARLY PURITAN.
+
+_Bobby_ (_who sees his Mamma in Evening Dress for the first time, and
+doesn't like it_). "I'LL WRITE AND TELL PAPA!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"A STIFF JOB."
+
+_Grand Old Ploughman sings_:--
+
+ Speed the Plough! Ah, that's all mighty fine,
+ And I like the old saying's suggestion;
+ But--wi' a small crock such as mine,
+ The _speed_ may be matter o' question.
+ I've set my hand to 'un, o' course,
+ And munna look back, there's no doubt o' it:
+ Yet I wish I'd a handier horse
+ For the job, or that _I_ were well out o' it!
+
+ Stiff clay on a slaantin' hill-side,
+ Would tax a strong team. Steady, steady!
+ The little 'un goes a bit wide,
+ And seems to be shirkin' already.
+ To keep a straight furrow this go
+ Will strain the old ploughman's slack muscle;
+ And yet my new measters, I know,
+ Will expect I to keep on the bustle.
+
+ Stiff job for a little 'un? Yes!
+ If he doesn't pull straight there'll be bother,
+ Must make the best of 'un I guess,
+ This time, for I sha'an't get no other.
+ Gee up! I shall have a good try,
+ On that they may bet their last dollar.
+ It's do, poor old crook, now, or die!
+ But--I _must_ keep 'un oop to the collar!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"This room is very close!" said Mrs. R., settling herself down to her
+knitting, which her nephew had furtively unravelled. "Open the window, TOM,
+and let out the asphyxia."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+LINES ON THE AUTHOR OF THE
+LABOUR BUREAU.
+
+(_By a Labourer._)
+
+ 'Ooray for Mister MUNDELLA,
+ (Who's under Old GLADDY'S umbrella.)
+ For he's a jolly good fella,
+ And so say all of _hus_!
+ With a 'ip, 'ip, 'ip, 'ooray!
+ We hope the Bureau may pay.
+ Of course it might well have been better,
+ But then--it might have been _wus_!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+EMPHASIS GRATIÂ.--What a difference a slight emphasis makes in an ordinary
+sentence! The _D. T._ when giving, in advance, an account of a marriage to
+be solemnised the same afternoon, spoke thus concerning the costumes of the
+very youthful bridesmaids. "They will wear dresses of very pale blue silk,
+made up with ivory-hued lace." Now, had the second word been in italics, it
+would have read thus, "They _will_ wear," &c., as if everything had been
+done to prevent them from so arraying themselves, "but, in spite of all
+efforts, they _will_ wear dresses of very pale blue!" So obstinate of them!
+Such nice little ladies, too!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"The Liberal-Unionists have resolved to abstain from pairing during the
+present Session." So _The Times_. "Birds in their little nests agree,"
+quoth the eminent Dr. WATTS; but these Parliamentary Birds will belie their
+name of "Unionists" if they refuse to "pair."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+TELEGRAM FROM HAWAIANS TO AMERICAN PRESIDENT.--"WE would be U.S."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE ANTI----?
+
+ Your aid let me ask in a difficult task, _Mr. Punch_, with the greatest
+ submission;
+ To win for my name a well-merited fame was always my ardent ambition,
+ And clearly to-day the least difficult way is to send an appeal to the
+ papers,
+ To form an intrigue for creating a league against fashion-designers and
+ drapers.
+
+ Thereby shall I reap an advertisement cheap, and writers, with much
+ perseverance,
+ Will furnish as news their apocryphal views on my appetite, age, and
+ appearance;
+ They all will revere my conviction sincere, and loudly re-echo my
+ praises,
+ But the thing which, as yet, I'm unable to get, is a novel departure in
+ crazes
+
+ The idea shall we float that a swallow-tail coat is only adapted for
+ Vandals?
+ Write pamphlets, designed to enlighten mankind on the duty of taking to
+ sandals?
+ Would a hatred of hats, or crusade on cravats, secure us a sympathy
+ louder?
+ Or shall we assert it is time to revert to patches, knee-breeches, and
+ powder?
+
+ Meanwhile, your applause we invite for our Cause--you notice the capital
+ letter--
+ Subscriptions and fees you may send when you please to the writer, the
+ sooner the better.
+ But as to the theme of this notable scheme, I wait for a timely
+ suggestion;
+ Its worth's beyond doubt, but what it's about remains, for the present, a
+ question!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+The Bishop of CHESTER trembles. He is marked with the brand of "CAINE"!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "A STIFF JOB."
+
+W. E. G. (_to himself_). "SHALL HAVE TO KEEP HIM _UP TO THE COLLAR_!"
+(_Aloud._) "GEE UP!!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+CONVERSATIONAL HINTS FOR YOUNG SHOOTERS.
+
+HOSTS.
+
+"Dear Punch," writes a valued Correspondent, "I wish you'd tip me the wink
+how I'm to talk to my hosts. I'm a poor man, but not a poor shot. So I get
+asked about a good deal to different places, and as I'm not the sort that
+turns on the talking-tap very easily, I often get stuck up. Just as I've
+got fairly into the swim with one of them I leave him, and have to think of
+talk for quite a different kind of chap, and so on all through the season.
+For instance, last December I did three shoots in as many weeks. The first
+was with old CALLABY, the rich manufacturer, who's turned sportsman late in
+life. I thought he'd like a talk about bimetallism, so I sweated it up a
+bit, and started off with a burst as soon as I got a look in. All no go.
+Nothing would please him but to talk of birds, and rabbits, and hares, and
+farming, and crops, and who was going to be High Sheriff, and all that. So
+I got a little left at the first go off.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Next week I shot with BLOSSOM, another new friend, who's come into money
+lately, after knocking about all over America the greater part of his life.
+I tried him with the Chicago Exposition, and ranching as a business for
+younger sons; did it delicately, of course, and with any amount of
+deference, but he only looked at me blankly, and began talking about the
+Bank-rate. After that, I settled with myself I wouldn't talk to any more of
+them about things that they might be expected to feel an interest in.
+
+"In the following week I was due at WHICHELLO'S. He's been a perfect
+lunatic all his life for music. He got up an orchestra in his nursery,
+which came to smash because his younger brother filled all the wind
+instruments with soap-suds. Later on he was always scraping, or blowing, or
+thumping, scooting about from one concert to another, making expeditions to
+the shrine of WAGNER as he called it, composing songs, and symphonies, and
+operas, and Heaven only knows what besides. He came into the old place in
+Essex when his brother died, about a year ago, and this was his first
+pheasant-shoot. I thought to myself, 'If you're anything like these other
+Johnnies, it's no good pulling out the music-stop with you.' On the first
+morning he seemed a shade anxious at breakfast, and said he was going to
+try a new plan of beating his coverts, which it had given him a lot of
+trouble to arrange as he wanted. Off we went after breakfast. We had about
+half a mile to walk before we got to the first wood, and I kept puzzling my
+brains the whole way about this blessed new dodge of beating.
+
+"'Where are the beaters?' I said to WHICHELLO, when we got there, for devil
+a bit of one did I see.
+
+"'You'll find them out directly,' says WHICHELLO, looking sly and
+triumphant; 'just you stand here, and wait. You'll get some shooting, I
+warrant you;' and, with that, he posted the other guns at the far end of
+the covert, told me and another chap we were to walk outside, in line with
+the beaters, and walked off. Suddenly he gave a whistle. Then what do you
+think happened? I'll give you a hundred guesses, and you won't be on it.
+Out of a little planting, about fifty yards off the piece we were to shoot,
+came marching a troop of rustics, dressed as rustic beaters usually are,
+but each of them carrying, in place of the ordinary beater's stick, a
+musical instrument of some sort. They were headed by the keeper, who waved
+a kind of _bâton_. When they got to our covert, they arranged themselves in
+line, and then, on a signal from WHICHELLO, crash, bang! they struck up the
+_Tannhäuser March_, and disappeared into the wood.
+
+"'Line up, Trombone!' shouted the keeper--I heard his stentorian roar above
+the din--'Come, hurry along with the Bombardon; Ophicleide, you're too far
+in front. Keep it going, Clarinets. Now then, all together! What are you up
+to, Cymbals? Let 'em have it!' And thus they came banging and booming and
+blowing through the covert. The bassoon tripped into a thorn-bush, the
+big-drum rolled over the trunk of a tree and smashed his instrument, the
+hautboy threw his at an escaping rabbit, while the flute-man walked
+straight into a pool of water, and had to be pulled out by the triangle.
+But the rest of them got through somehow with that infernal idiot of a
+conducting keeper, still backing and twisting and waving like mad in the
+front. That was WHICHELLO'S idea of beating his coverts. 'Combining
+æsthetic pleasure with sporting pursuits,' he called it. Somehow we had
+managed to bring down a brace of pheasants, which, with three rabbits, made
+up our total, out of a covert which ought to have yielded ten times as
+many.
+
+"I daresay you won't believe this story, but it's true all the same. If you
+don't believe it, write to WHICHELLO himself. I never saw anyone half so
+pleased as that fool was. He had given up all his time to teaching his
+rustics music, with a view to this performance, and had shoved in, as one
+of his keepers, a sporting third violin from the Drury Lane orchestra. They
+said it was glorious, and congratulated one another all round, with as much
+enthusiasm as if they'd repelled a foreign invasion. On the next beat they
+played the _March in Scipio_, and after that came a _Pot-Pourri of Popular
+Melodies_, arranged by the keeper. They played a selection from _The
+Pirates of Penzance_ while we lunched, and took the big wood to the tunes
+of '_Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay_' and '_Up-rouse ye then, my merry, merry Men!_'
+'_Rule Britannia_' and '_Home, Sweet Home_,' played us back to the house. I
+never heard such a confounded Babel of brass and wood in all my life. A
+German band in a country town couldn't come near it. Curiously enough, we
+most of us got urgent letters by next morning's post, summoning us home at
+once to attend to business, or to be present at the death-beds of
+relatives. I thought you'd like to hear this story, old cock. If you like,
+you're very welcome to shove it in your shooting series. I've seen a lot of
+rum goes in my life, but this was the rummest of the lot. And don't forget
+to let me have a word or two about talking to one's host. I know what I
+thought of that maniac WHICHELLO, but I shouldn't have liked to say that to
+him.
+
+"Yours to a turn,
+A SPORTSMAN."
+
+For the present I must leave this striking letter to the judgment of my
+readers. Space fails me to deal with it adequately. On another occasion I
+may be able to set down some ideas on the difficult subject suggested by my
+polite Correspondent.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE APPRECIATION OF GOLD.--"Why all this fuss?" writes a Correspondent. "Is
+there a difficulty in finding persons who properly appreciate gold? If so,
+I, Sir, am not of that number. I will be happy to receive from the Bank any
+quantity of sovereigns; and, further, I will undertake to show and honestly
+express my appreciation of this generosity on the part of the Bank. Ah! I
+should like to possess any number of those 'promises of May.'
+
+"Yours,
+A MUNNIE GRUBBER."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
+
+EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
+
+_House of Commons, Tuesday, Jan. 31st._--"Members desiring to take their
+seats will please come to the Table."
+
+'Twas the voice of the SPEAKER; one could hear him declaim just as Big Ben
+tolled four o'clock this afternoon. House crowded in every part, throbbing
+with excitement; crowds everywhere. In Centre Hall some vainly hoping for
+impossible places; others content to see the men go by whose names they
+read in the papers. Outside Palace Yard multitude standing patiently for
+hours, happy if only they saw the tip of Mr. G.'s hat as he drove in at the
+gate, or imagined the buttons on the Squire of MALWOOD'S gaiters. Never, in
+recent times, such a rush on opening days.
+
+And Colonel SAUNDERSON, comfortably seated on Front Bench below Gangway, in
+choice companionship with Dr. TANNER, actually yawning!
+
+[Illustration: HISTORICAL SUBJECT.--S-nd-rs-n "finding the body
+of"--T-nn-r.]
+
+"All very well for you, TOBY, dear boy," he said, responsive to my polite
+stare. "You come down here leisurely in afternoon, and take your seat. I've
+been on war-path since before daybreak. Knew the wild Irishmen meant to
+open proceedings of Session by appropriating our seats. Have not served in
+Royal Irish Fusiliers for nothing. Session opened by Royal Commission at
+two o'clock this afternoon. Thought if I arrived on spot at seven in
+morning would be in moderately good time. Here before seven: place in utter
+darkness; found friendly policeman with bull's-eye light; tightened my
+belt; cocked my pistol; requisitioned Bobby and his lantern. You should
+have seen us groping our way into House; Bobby first, with bull's-eye
+lantern professionally flashing to right and left, under seats, into dark
+corners. Made straight for my old corner-seat below Gangway; something
+white gleaming on front bench; with supple turn of wrist Bobby brought
+flambeau to bear upon it; found it was TANNER--TANNER, hatless, coatless,
+without even a waistcoat on! You might have knocked me down with much less
+than bayonet-prod. 'Morning, Colonel,' says he. 'Been here all night?' I
+gasped. 'Oh, no,' says he; 'had cup of coffee at stall by Westminster
+Bridge, bought a few hats in the New Cut, and, you see, I've planted them
+out.' So he had, by Gad! Every corner-seat taken, and he prone in JEMMY
+LOWTHER'S. 'Weren't enough o' them,' TANNER said, with his sixpenny
+snigger; 'couldn't leave put our revered leaders, TIM HEALY and O'BRIEN,
+you know. So just took off my coat, flopped it down for TIM, hung the
+waist-coast on a knob, and there's WILLIAM O'BRIEN'S place secured for the
+night. Now, if you'd like a seat, you'll find one above the Gangway; or if
+you want to come and sit by me, here you are. I've got a necktie, a collar,
+and a pair of braces to spare; if you've any particular friends in your
+mind, why, we'll get seats for them.' No knowing what a fellow like TANNER
+would do in these circumstances. Even his trowsers not sacred. So made best
+of bad job, and here I am. At least, better off than JEMMY LOWTHER, evicted
+without compensation for disturbance."
+
+Conversation interrupted by loud cheer. Mr. G. marching with head erect,
+and swinging stride, to take the Oath and his seat. Necessary by Standing
+Orders that two Members shall accompany new Member on these occasions to
+certify identity and prevent guilty impersonation. It's a wise child that
+knows his own father, but HERBERT, walking on one side of Premier, with
+MARJORIBANKS on other, ready to testify. Clerk at table, thus assured all
+was right, administered Oath and then conducted Premier up to SPEAKER,
+presenting the new Member.
+
+"Mr. GLADSTONE, I presume," said SPEAKER, making a motion towards extending
+his hand.
+
+"Yes, Sir," said the new Member, nervously.
+
+"Dear me!" said the SPEAKER, now shaking hands. "I've often heard of you. I
+daresay you'll soon get accustomed to the place, and will, I hope, be
+comfortable." Mr. G. bowed, and retired to his seat. SPEAKER suffered
+succession of shocks as in same way were brought up and introduced to him,
+SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, JOHN MORLEY, CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN, the Count MUNDELLANI,
+GEORGE TREVELYAN, The Boy ASQUITH, and quite a host of new acquaintances.
+
+_Business done._--New Members took their seats. Address moved.
+
+_Thursday Night._--Something like flash of old times to-night. Of course,
+it came from Irish quarter, and it was SAUNDERSON who kindled the torch.
+Colonel presented himself early in sitting on corner bench below Gangway.
+This apparently reverted to possession of JEMMY LOWTHER. He lent it to
+Colonel for an hour, sitting on other side of him. How they secured the
+place is a mystery, darkened by temporary disappearance of TANNER. "Where
+is TANNER?" Members ask, looking, not without suspicion, on placid face and
+generally respectable appearance of JEMMY LOWTHER. Last seen, not
+exactly in company of JEMMY and the Colonel, rather in conflict for the
+corner-seat. LOWTHER has the seat; lends it to SAUNDERSON. But where is
+TANNER?
+
+"Oh, _he_'s all right," said LOWTHER, with forced smile, when JUSTIN
+MCCARTHY, with ill-feigned indifference, inquired after the lamb missing
+from his fold. "Bad sixpence, you know; always turns up," JEMMY added. But
+his merriment forced, and SAUNDERSON abruptly changed subject.
+
+Evidently a case for SHERLOCK HOLMES; must place it in his hands.
+
+Doubtless it was with object of diverting attention from a ghastly subject
+that SAUNDERSON led up to row alluded to. In course of remarks on release
+of Gweedore prisoners, he alluded to Father MCFADDEN as "a ruffian." Irish
+Members not used to language of that kind. Howled in pained indignation;
+the Colonel, astonished at his own moderation, varied the phrase by calling
+the respected P.P. "a murderous ruffian." Shouts of horror from compatriots
+closely massed behind. TIM HEALY, in particular, boiling with indignation
+at use of language of this character addressed to gentlemen from whom one
+had difference of opinion on public matters. Nothing would content them
+short of absolute and immediate withdrawal. Colonel declined to withdraw.
+Uproar rose in ungovernable fury. Every time Colonel opened his mouth to
+continue his remarks, an Irish Member (so to speak) jumped down his throat.
+
+Considerable proportion of Ministerial majority had disappeared in this
+fashion, when happy thought occurred to JOHN DILLON. Hotly moved that
+SAUNDERSON "be no longer heard." Considering he had not been heard for
+fully five minutes, this joke excellent. SPEAKER, however, wouldn't see it.
+COLONEL trumped the card by moving Adjournment of Debate. Mr. G.
+interposed, adjured SAUNDERSON to put end to scene by withdrawing
+expression objected to.
+
+Colonel, hitherto obdurate, found irresistible the stately appeal from
+Premier. "Certainly," said he, ever ready to oblige; "I will withdraw the
+words 'murderous ruffian,' and substitute the expression, excited
+politician." This accepted as perfectly satisfactory. Terms apparently
+synonymous; but the latter, on the whole, less irritating to susceptible
+nerves. Irish members round about fell on Colonel's neck; embraced him with
+tears; gently disengaging himself, he proceeded uninterrupted to the end of
+his address.
+
+"Capital title that," said GEORGE NEWNES, who always has eye to business.
+"Shall start a new Weekly; lead off with serial Novel by Colonel
+SAUNDERSON, entitled _The Murderous Ruffian; or, the Excited Politician_.
+Sure to take."
+
+All very well, this cleverly conceived diversion. But where is Dr. TANNER?
+_Business done._--Debate on Address.
+
+_Friday Night._--Still harping on Ireland. Began with row round issue of
+Writ for South Meath. ESMONDE, one of innumerable Whips present House
+possesses, says the business was his. "Then why didn't you do it?" asked
+NOLAN. "As you didn't seem disposed to move, I do." Nationalists want to
+get North Meath Election finished first; Parnellites don't. So ESMONDE is
+in no hurry to move Writ, and Colonel NOLAN is. Pretty, in these
+circumstances to hear NOLAN with his indignant inquiry, "Is the moving of
+Writs to be taken as an Election dodge?"
+
+After Ireland, Uganda. SAGE OF QUEEN ANNE'S GATE talked for hour and half.
+Later, rose to blandly explain that this was only half his speech; rest
+will be delivered when he brings question up again on Supplementary Vote.
+As Mr. G. says, this is fair notice, and every Member may determine for
+himself whether he will forego a portion of the promised treat. _Business
+done._--Talking.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE PARLIAMENTARY BILL MARKET, ST. STEPHENS.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+Everyone knows Mr. AUSTIN DOBSON'S dainty verse. In _Eighteenth Century
+Vignettes_ (CHATTO AND WINDUS) everyone has an opportunity, which he will
+do well to seize, to enjoy his equally charming prose. Mr. DOBSON is one of
+those enviable men who have time to read. He spends an appreciable portion
+of his days and nights not only with ADDISON, but with STEELE, PRIOR,
+JOHNSON, GOLDSMITH, and others, whom a generation that read newspapers and
+subscribe to MUDIE'S, know only by name. Mr. DOBSON is so omnivorous, that
+he has read right through JONAS HANWAY'S _Journal of Eight Days' Journey
+from Portsmouth to Kingston-upon-Thames_, the book which drew from JOHNSON
+the genial remark that HANWAY "had acquired some reputation by travelling
+abroad, but lost it all by travelling at home." A man that would read that,
+would read anything. Mr. DOBSON, happily, survived it, living to write a
+paper in which, within the limit of a few pages, we become thoroughly
+acquainted with JONAS, his travels in Persia, his discreet flirtations, his
+umbrella (the first under which man ever walked in the streets of London),
+his suit of rich dark brown, lined with ermine, his _chapeau bras_ with
+gold button, his gold-hilted sword, and his three pairs of stockings. JONAS
+always thought there was safety in numbers, whether odd or even. When he
+travelled, his "Partie" consisted of Mrs. D. and Mrs. O. When he dedicated
+a book (which Mr. DOBSON found, more than a hundred years later, in a
+second-hand book-shop in Holborn), he inscribed it to the "Twin Sisters,
+Miss ELIZABETH & Miss CAROLINE GRIGG." When he took his walks abroad, he
+wore three pairs of stockings. JONAS HANWAY, under Mr. DOBSON'S care, is
+unexpectedly delightful. With the same magic touch he brings upon the stage
+STEELE, FIELDING, GOLDSMITH, GRAY, HOGARTH'S SIGISMUNDA, and Dr. JOHNSON,
+who lives for us again in his garret in Gough Square. These _Vignettes_
+should be framed in the private room of every man and woman who loves
+books.
+
+(_Signed_), "_Non obstat_,"
+BARON DE B.-W.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Discovered in Drury Lane
+
+ _Near the new Baker Street Lodging House established by the County
+ Council._
+
+ I 'old it true wote'er befall;
+ I feel it when things go most cross;
+ Better to do a fi'penny doss,
+ Than never do a doss at all!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"WAITE FOR THE END."--On Friday last, at another Unemployed Meeting, a
+certain person, whose name is never mentioned in ears polite, "found
+mischief still," as wrote the immortal Dr. WATTS, "for idle hands to do,"
+and set one WAITE, whether a light or heavy weight is not stated, and one
+SULLIVAN, by the ears. It was a hand-to-hand fight, and WAITE was
+subsequently captured and brought before the Magistrate. _Mem._ for WAITE,
+in the words of a recently popular song, "_Never hit a Man of the name of
+Sullivan._"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FALLEN FORTUNES.--Quoth _The Observer_ of a certain celebrity, "The family
+to which he belongs can trace an uninterrupted descent for a period of six
+centuries." What an awful "come-down"! _Quelle dégringolade!_
+
+ * * * * *
+
+BETWEEN TWO GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS.--"What do you think of
+CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN'S choice of an assistant private secretary? Odd? eh?"
+"Not odd! _Strange._"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+PROVERB FOR MEMBERS OF PARLIAMENT WHO WISH TO SECURE SEATS.--"Two Hats are
+better than one."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: SELF-PRESERVATION IS THE FIRST LAW OF NATURE;
+
+OR, GETTING THE START OF CRINOLINE.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE INFANT'S GUIDE TO KNOWLEDGE.
+
+CONCERNING CASH.
+
+_Question._ What is cash?
+
+_Answer._ Cash may be described as comfort in the concrete.
+
+_Q._ Is it not sometimes called "the root of all evil"?
+
+_A._ Yes, by those who do not possess it.
+
+_Q._ Is it possible to live without cash?
+
+_A._ Certainly--upon credit.
+
+_Q._ Can you tell me what is credit?
+
+_A._ Credit is the motive power which induces persons who have cash, to
+part with some of it to those who have it not.
+
+_Q._ Can you give me an instance of credit?
+
+_A._ Certainly. A young man who is able to live at the rate of a thousand
+a-year, with an income not exceeding nothing a month, is a case of credit.
+
+_Q._ Would it be right to describe such a transaction "as much to his
+credit"?
+
+_A._ It would be more precise to say, "much by his credit;" although the
+former phrase would be accepted by a large class of the community as
+absolutely accurate.
+
+_Q._ What is bimetallism?
+
+_A._ Bimetallism is a subject that is frequently discussed by amateur
+financiers, after a good dinner, on the near approach of the coffee.
+
+_Q._ Can you give me your impression of the theory of bimetallism?
+
+_A._ My impression of bimetallism is the advisability of obtaining silver,
+if you cannot get gold.
+
+_Q._ What is the best way of securing gold?
+
+_A._ The safest way is to borrow it.
+
+_Q._ Can money be obtained in any other way?
+
+_A._ In the olden time it was gathered on Hounslow Heath and other deserted
+spots, by mounted horsemen wearing masks and carrying pistols.
+
+_Q._ What is the modern way of securing funds, on the same principles, but
+with smaller risk?
+
+_A._ By promoting Companies and other expedients known to the members of
+the Stock Exchange.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+QUEER QUERIES.
+
+FOREIGN CLERKS.--I should be grateful for any information as to where I
+could acquire a knowledge of French, German, Italian, Spanish, Arabic, and
+Russian, without leaving the neighbourhood of Camberwell New Road, and at a
+merely nominal cost. I find that, unless I know those languages, I have no
+chance of competing with German Clerks; whereas, if I did know them, I
+should be nearly sure of obtaining a berth in a London Firm at not less
+than fifteen shillings a week, rising, by half centuries, to fifteen and
+sixpence, and even to sixteen shillings. Also, what is the least amount of
+porridge (without milk or sugar), haricot beans, or lentil soup, that will
+preserve a person from starvation, if he takes nothing else, and works
+fourteen hours a day? I intend imitating my Teutonic rivals in frugality,
+as well as in languages; any dietetic hints (especially from Scotchmen),
+would therefore be welcomed by NO POLYGLOT.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A DELICATE REQUEST.--On Wednesday--that day in every week which is kept as
+a whole holiday in honour of _Mr. Punch_--the 8th Feb., there is to be "a
+meeting of Old Paulines" at Anderton's Hotel, when "_the attendance of all
+Old Paulines is requested_." Ahem! The aged representatives of the heroine
+of the _Lady of Lyons_ will not be attracted by the wording of this rather
+un-paulite announcement. Why was not the invitation extended to the old
+_Claude Melnottes_ as well? There must be a lot of them about.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+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 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL.
+104, FEBRUARY 11, 1893***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 21818-8.txt or 21818-8.zip *******
+
+
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, February 11, 1893, by Various</title>
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104,
+February 11, 1893, by Various, Edited by Francis Burnand</h1>
+<pre>
+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 <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, February 11, 1893</p>
+<p>Author: Various</p>
+<p>Editor: Francis Burnand</p>
+<p>Release Date: June 12, 2007 [eBook #21818]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 104, FEBRUARY 11, 1893***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Matt Whittaker, Juliet Sutherland,<br />
+ and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+ (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="pg" />
+<h1>PUNCH,<br />
+
+OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1>
+
+<h2>VOL. 104.</h2>
+
+
+
+<h2>February 11, 1893.</h2>
+
+
+<hr class="full" />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page61" id="page61"></a>[pg 61]</span>
+
+<h2>THE LAST WOMAN.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>A contemporary Pendant to "The Last Man."</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>[It is stated that the dreaded Crinoline has
+actually made its appearance in one or two
+quarters.]</p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
+<p>All modish shapes must melt in gloom,</p>
+<p class="i2">Great <span class="sc">Worth</span> himself must die,</p>
+<p>Before the Sex again assume</p>
+<p class="i2"><span class="sc">Eve's</span> sweet simplicity!</p>
+<p>I saw a vision in my sleep,</p>
+<p>Which made me bow my head and weep</p>
+<p class="i2">As one aghast, accurst!</p>
+<p>Was it a spook before me past?</p>
+<p>Of women I beheld the last,</p>
+<p class="i2">As <span class="sc">Adam</span> saw the first.</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>Regent Street seemed "No Thoroughfare,"</p>
+<p class="i2">Bond Street looked weird, inhuman;</p>
+<p>The spectres of past fashions were</p>
+<p class="i2">Around that lonely Woman.</p>
+<p>Some were the work of native hands,</p>
+<p>Some had arrived from foreign lands,</p>
+<p class="i2">Nondescript jumbles some!</p>
+<p>Pall-Mall had now nor sound nor tread,</p>
+<p>Park Lane was silent as the dead,</p>
+<p class="i2">Belgravia was dumb.</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>Yet, lighthouse-like, that lone one stood,</p>
+<p class="i2">Or whisked her skirts around,</p>
+<p>Like a wild wind that sweeps the wood,</p>
+<p class="i2">And strews with leaves the ground.</p>
+<p>Singing, "Our hour is come, O Sun</p>
+<p>Of Fashion! We'll have no more fun.</p>
+<p class="i2">Solitude is <i>too</i> slow!</p>
+<p>True thou hast worn ten thousand shapes</p>
+<p>(In spite of man's sour gibes and japes),</p>
+<p class="i2">But&mdash;now the thing lacks go.</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>"What though the grumbler Man put forth</p>
+<p class="i2">His pompous power and skill!</p>
+<p>He could not make Woman and <span class="sc">Worth</span></p>
+<p class="i2">The vassals of his will;&mdash;</p>
+<p>Fashion, I mourn thy parted sway,</p>
+<p>Thou dim discrown&eacute;d Queen! To play</p>
+<p class="i2">To empty box and stall;</p>
+<p>To dress&mdash;when not another She</p>
+<p>Exists to quicken rivalry&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">No, it won't pay at all!</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>"Go, let oblivion's curtain fall</p>
+<p class="i2">Upon the works of men!</p>
+<p>Nothing they did that's worth recall,</p>
+<p class="i2">With sword, or spade, or pen.</p>
+<p>Their bumptious bunglings bring not back!</p>
+<p>Man always <i>was</i> a noisy quack</p>
+<p class="i2">Who thought himself a god;</p>
+<p>But when he fancied he had scored</p>
+<p>Prodigiously, the Sex he bored</p>
+<p class="i2">Subdued him with a nod.</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>"Now I am weary. No one tries</p>
+<p class="i2">The fit of new attire!</p>
+<p>Doom, that the joys of Dress denies,</p>
+<p class="i2">Bids Woman's bliss expire.</p>
+<p>But shall <i>La Mode</i> know final death?</p>
+<p>Forbid it Woman's latest breath!</p>
+<p class="i2">Death&mdash;who is <i>male</i>&mdash;shan't boast</p>
+<p>The eclipse of Fashion. Such a pall</p>
+<p>Shall not like Darkness cover all&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Till <i>I</i> give up the ghost!</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>"What would most vex and worry <i>him</i>,</p>
+<p class="i2">Dull, modeless Man, whose spark</p>
+<p>Long (beside Woman's) burning dim,</p>
+<p class="i2">Has now gone down in dark?</p>
+<p>Ha! He'd kick up the <i>greatest</i> shine</p>
+<p>(If he <i>could</i> kick) at&mdash;CRINOLINE.</p>
+<p class="i2">Were he recalled to breath,</p>
+<p>I'll have one last man-mocking spree</p>
+<p>By <i>donning hooped skirts</i>. Victory!</p>
+<p class="i2"><i>This</i> takes all sting from Death!</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>"Go, Sun, while Fashion holds me up,</p>
+<p class="i2">Swollen skirt and skimpy waist</p>
+<p>Shall fill&mdash;male&mdash;sorrow's bitter cup,</p>
+<p class="i2">And mortify&mdash;male&mdash;taste!</p>
+<p>Go, tell the spheres that sweep through space,</p>
+<p>Thou saw'st the last of <span class="sc">Eve's</span> fair race,</p>
+<p class="i2">In high ecstatic passion;</p>
+<p>The darkening universe defy,</p>
+<p>To quench her taste for Toggery,</p>
+<p class="i2">Or shake her faith in Fashion!"</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:35%;"><a href="images/061a.png"><img width="100%" src="images/061a.png" alt="THE GOVERNESS WHO, MA' SAID, WOULDN'T DO." /></a><h3>"THE GOVERNESS WHO, MA' SAID, WOULDN'T DO."</h3></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>A PLAINT FROM PARNASSUS.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>By an "Unrecommended" Resident.</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>[Mr. <span class="sc">Gladstone</span> (replying to Mr. <span class="sc">Johnston</span>, of Ballykilbeg) announced that no recommendation
+had been submitted to Her <span class="sc">Majesty</span> upon
+the subject of the succession to the office of Poet
+Laureate, and that there was no immediate
+intention of submitting one.]</p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
+<p>Glorious Apollo! This is wondrous hard!</p>
+<p>Fancy <span class="sc">John Bull</span> without Official Bard!</p>
+<p>His plight is sad as that of the great men</p>
+<p>Who lived, unmarked by the Poetic Pen,</p>
+<p>Before great <span class="sc">Agamemnon</span>. Ah, my <span class="sc">Horace</span>,</p>
+<p>Britons are a Boeotian, heavy, slow race!</p>
+<p>As for the "Statesman" who treats bards so shabbily,</p>
+<p>'Twill serve him right if thine "<i>illacrimabile</i>"</p>
+<p>Applies to him. A Premier, but no Poet?</p>
+<p>England, you are dishonoured, and don't know it.</p>
+<p>Void of a <i>Sacer Vates</i> to enshrine</p>
+<p>In gorgeous trope and long-resounding line,</p>
+<p>Thy Victories, and Weddings, Shows and Valour?</p>
+<p>Parnassus shakes, the Muses pine in pallor.</p>
+<p>When foreign princelings mate our sweet princesses,</p>
+<p>When Rads of fleets and armies made sad messes,</p>
+<p>And stand in need of verbal calcitration;</p>
+<p>When&mdash;let's say <span class="sc">Ashmead-Bartlett</span>&mdash;saves the nation</p>
+<p>In the great name of glorious Saint Jingo;</p>
+<p>When <span class="sc">Bull</span> gives toko or delivers stingo.</p>
+<p>To Fuzzy-Wuzzy, or such foolish savages;</p>
+<p>When our great guns commit most gallant ravages</p>
+<p>Among the huts of some unhappy village,</p>
+<p>Where naughty "niggers" have gone in for pillage;</p>
+<p>When <span class="sc">Someone</span> condescends to be high-born,</p>
+<p>Or deigns to die, who now shall toot the horn,</p>
+<p>Or twang the lyre, emitting verse divine,</p>
+<p>For Fame and&mdash;say, about a pound per line?</p>
+<p>I must submit. I have not been "submitted,"</p>
+<p>But poetless <span class="sc">John Bull</span> is to be pitied.</p>
+<p>Of course self-praise is no "recommendation,"</p>
+<p>(In <span class="sc">Gladstone's</span> sense) or else, unhappy nation,</p>
+<p>I, even I, could spare you natural worry at,</p>
+<p>Your non-possession of a Poet-Laureate!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="sc">In a Pickwickian Sense</span>.&mdash;When "a nate
+Irishman" (as the song has it) "meets with a
+friend," he incontinently "for love knocks
+him down," whether with a "sprig of shillelagh"
+or a "flower of speech," depends
+upon circumstances. In either case he
+"means no harm," or at any rate far less
+harm than the phlegmatic and matter-of-fact
+Saxon is apt to fancy. Probably, therefore,
+an "Irish Phrase Book," giving the real
+"meaning" of Hibernian rhetorical epithets,
+would prove a great peacemaker, in Parliament
+and out. Colonel <span class="sc">Saunderson</span>, when
+he had recovered his temper, and with it his
+wit, "toned down" the provocative "murderous
+ruffian," into the inoffensive "excited
+politician." But what a pity it is that "excited
+politicians" so often string themselves up to
+(verbal) "ruffianism."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE LAST LIGHT.</h2>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width:20%;"><a href="images/061b.png"><img width="100%" src="images/061b.png" alt="" /></a></div>
+
+<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
+<p>It scarce can be thou art the last</p>
+<p class="i2">To fade before my watchful gaze;</p>
+<p class="i2">So short the part that each one plays,</p>
+<p>A flickering flame, and life is past.</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>And thou wert clothed in robe of snow,</p>
+<p class="i2">A crimson veil around thy head,</p>
+<p class="i2">And now thou liest, charred and dead,</p>
+<p>Erstwhile with ruddy fire aglow.</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>I held thee in a fond embrace</p>
+<p class="i2">To guard thee from the whistling wind;</p>
+<p class="i2">And not another can I find</p>
+<p>To comfort me and take thy place.</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>And though I lay aside my weeds,</p>
+<p class="i2">Yet like a widow I bemoan;</p>
+<p class="i2">Nor all the wealth the Indies own,</p>
+<p>Could satisfy my present needs.</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>Thy spark has vanished from my sight,</p>
+<p class="i2">Useless cigar, tobacco, pipe;</p>
+<p class="i2">Of perfect misery the type,</p>
+<p>A man without another light.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="sc">Employment for the Unemployed</span>.&mdash;On
+Tuesday, in last week, the Unemployed had
+their hands full, when at Temple Avenue they
+unsuccessfully attempted to overcome the
+effective resistance of the Police. The Unemployed
+might have been better employed.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page62" id="page62"></a>[pg 62]</span>
+
+<h2>THE STAR OF HOPE.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>A New Naval Ode.</i>)</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/062.png"><img width="100%" src="images/062.png" alt="" /></a></div>
+
+<blockquote><p>[The Royal Commission on Telegraphic Communication
+between Lighthouses and Lightships
+and the Shore, have issued their first report
+recommending immediate action in the more
+urgent cases. Dealing with the same subject, on
+November 28, 1891, <i>Mr. Punch</i> said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
+<p>"<i>Punch</i> pictures with prophetic pen, a brighter, cheerier page,</p>
+<p>Which <i>must be turned</i>, and speedily."&mdash;<i>See "The
+Sweet Little Cherub that Sits up Aloft</i>," (<i>Modern
+Version as it Must Be</i>) Vol. ci., p. 254.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><i>Mr. Punch</i> is mightily pleased that his injunction
+has been obeyed, and that his prophecy is in
+process of fulfilment.]</p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
+<p class="i10">I.</p>
+
+<p>Ye Mariners of England,</p>
+<p>Shipwrecked in our home seas,</p>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page63" id="page63"></a>[pg 63]</span><p>How this will calm your wives' wild fears,</p>
+<p>And give your stout hearts ease!</p>
+<p>Hope's blue eyes gleam above the main,</p>
+<p>Her lifted light will glow,</p>
+<p>And sweep o'er the deep,</p>
+<p>When the stormy winds do blow;</p>
+<p>When the tempest rages loud and long,</p>
+<p>And the stormy winds do blow.</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+
+<p class="i10">II.</p>
+
+<p>The spirit comfort gathers,</p>
+<p>From schemes designed to save</p>
+<p>Brave fellows, who have dared the deep,</p>
+<p>Near home to find a grave.</p>
+<p>See how o'er rock and quicksand fell,</p>
+<p>The Electric ray doth glow,</p>
+<p>And sweep o'er the deep,</p>
+<p>While the stormy winds do blow;</p>
+<p>While the tempest rages loud and long,</p>
+<p>And the stormy winds do blow!</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+
+<p class="i10">III.</p>
+
+<p><span class="sc">Britannia</span> needs as bulwarks</p>
+<p>Light-towers along the steep,</p>
+<p>To save her gallant sons from graves</p>
+<p>Near home, though on the deep.</p>
+<p>With levin as from Jovian hand</p>
+<p>She'll light the floods below,</p>
+<p>As they roar on the shore,</p>
+<p>When the stormy winds do blow;</p>
+<p>When the tempest rages loud and long,</p>
+<p>And the stormy winds do blow.</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+
+<p class="i10">IV.</p>
+
+<p>The Mariners of England</p>
+<p>Glad eyes shall shoreward turn</p>
+<p>In danger's night. Behold, brave hearts,</p>
+<p>Where the Star of Hope doth burn!</p>
+<p>Science, tired by Humanity,</p>
+<p>Their grateful song shall flow</p>
+<p>To the fame of your name,</p>
+<p>When the storm has ceased to blow;</p>
+<p>When the storm is o'er, and they're safe ashore,</p>
+<p>Thanks to Hope's beacon-glow!</p>
+</div> </div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> Are there any Lighthouses away from
+the Coast?&mdash;<i>A.</i> Certainly. <i>Q.</i> Where?&mdash;<i>A.</i>
+In London. <i>Q.</i> Name them.&mdash;<i>A.</i> The
+Comedy, Toole's, the Op&eacute;ra Comique, and
+Strand. All Light-and-leading Houses.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/063.png"><img width="100%" src="images/063.png" alt="A SNUB." /></a><h3>A SNUB.</h3>
+
+<p>"<span class="sc">Fifty Guineas for a Boa and a Muff! That's rather dear, isn't it?</span>"</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="sc">We don't keep Catskin, Madam!</span>"</p></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>A METROPOLITAN MAYOR'S NEST.</h2>
+
+<blockquote><p>["The Common Council is stated to have appointed a 'Fighting Committee'
+to oppose the Unification of London, and to take steps for the formation of
+separate Municipalities in different parts of the Metropolis."&mdash;<i>Daily Paper.</i>]</p></blockquote>
+
+<p><i>Lord Mayor's Day.</i>&mdash;Ah, if only we had not got Parliament to
+sanction the plan of splitting London up into distinct Municipalities,
+what a proud day this would be for me! As it is, must try and
+remember that I am <i>not</i> <span class="sc">Lord Mayor</span> of London at all, but only
+Mayor of the new Corporate Borough of Cripplegate Without, one of
+the half-dozen boroughs into which the old City has been divided.</p>
+
+<p><i>The Show.</i>&mdash;Well, thank goodness, we do keep <i>that</i> up! All
+the 674 Mayors of all the different districts of London take part in
+it. That reminds me that I must put on my Civic robes, edged
+with imitation ermine, and my aluminium chain of office, and prepare
+to start. A little hitch to begin with. Mayors all assembled outside
+Guildhall. Mayor of South-South-West Hammersmith tries to join
+us. Nobody seems to know him. Very suspicious, especially as, on
+referring to official records, we find that there is no such borough as
+South-South-West Hammersmith! We tell him so. He replies,
+sulkily, that it was created last night by a Special Vote of the
+South-West Hammersmith Town Council, who found the work
+getting too much for them, and that, anyhow, "he intends to take
+part in the procession." Awkward&mdash;but we have to yield.</p>
+
+<p><i>In the Streets.</i>&mdash;The 675 Mayors don't inspire as much respect as I
+should like. Perhaps it is due to the fact that a regular scramble
+took place for seats in the old <span class="sc">Lord Mayor's</span> Coach, in the course of
+which the Mayor of Tottenham Court Road was badly pommeled
+by the Mayor of Battersea Rise, and the coach itself had one side
+knocked out of it. Also that we other Mayors have to follow on foot,
+and are repeatedly asked if we are a procession of the Unemployed!</p>
+
+<p><i>At the Law Courts.</i>&mdash;In the good old days Lord Chief Justice
+used to deliver a flowery harangue congratulating the Chief Magistrate
+on his elevation. But who <i>is</i> the Chief Magistrate now?
+To-day a free fight among the Mayors to get first into the Court.
+In consequence, Chief Justice angrily orders Court to be cleared,
+and threatens to commit us for contempt! Yet surely in former
+days a Judge would have been imprisoned in the deepest dungeons
+of the Mansion House for much less.</p>
+
+<p><i>Evening.</i>&mdash;The hospitable custom of the Ministerial banquet still
+retained. Prime Minister adopts tactics of the Music Hall "Lion
+Comique," and, after addressing a few genial words to the guests
+assembled at the table of the Mayor of West Ham, jumps into
+brougham, and appears a few minutes later at Mayor of Shadwell's
+banquet, and so on to Poplar and Whitechapel, and as many
+as he can crowd in. Other Ministers do the same. Still, not
+enough Cabinet Councillors to go round, and to-night I am horrified
+to find that the assistant Under-Secretary to the deputy Labour
+Commissioner had been chosen to reply to the toast of the health of
+the Ministry at <i>my</i> banquet! Ichabod, indeed! [By the way,
+what a good name for a new Lord Mayor, "Ichabod," say, if knighted,
+"Sir <span class="sc">Thomas Ichabod</span>." Air to be played by band on his entering
+Guildhall, "Ichabody meet a body." But alas! these are dreams!
+Ichabod!] Yet, as the only building in which the Mayor of Cripplegate
+Without can entertain his guest is the fourth floor of an unused
+warehouse, perhaps we really don't deserve a higher official. Still,
+one can't help regretting that the City, in its natural dread of the
+so-called "Unification of London," persuaded the Government to
+agree to this sort of "Punification of London."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="sc">Toast for the next "Queensland Meat" Banquet.</span>&mdash;"The
+Army, the Gravy, and the Preserved Forces!"</p>
+
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page64" id="page64"></a>[pg 64]</span>
+<h2>THE MAN FROM BLANKLEY'S.</h2>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="sc">A Story in Scenes.</span></p>
+
+<blockquote><p><span class="sc">Scene V.</span>&mdash;<i>The Dining-room; walls distempered chocolate; gaselier
+with opal-tinted globes; two cast-iron Cavaliers holding
+gas-lamps on the mantel-piece. Oil-portrait, enlarged from
+photograph, of</i> Mrs. <span class="sc">Tidmarsh</span>, <i>over side-board; on other walls,
+engravings&mdash;"Belshazzar's Feast," "The Wall of Wailing
+at Jerusalem," and</i> <span class="sc">Dor&eacute;'s</span> <i>"Christian Martyrs." The guests
+have just sat down</i>; Lord <span class="sc">Strathsporran</span> <i>is placed between</i>
+Miss <span class="sc">Seaton</span> <i>and his hostess, and opposite</i> Mr. <span class="sc">Gilwattle</span>.</p></blockquote>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>to himself</i>). Deuced quaint-looking people&mdash;wish
+they wouldn't all eat their soup at me! Why can't somebody say
+something? Wonder who's the Lady in black, all over big silver
+tears&mdash;like a foreign funeral. Don't feel equal to talking to
+<span class="sc">Marjory</span> again till I've had some Sherry. (<i>After sipping it.</i>) Wormwood,
+by Jove! Champagne will probably be syrup&mdash;touch old
+<span class="sc">Gilwattle</span> up if he isn't careful&mdash;ah, <i>he</i> jibs at the Sherry!</p>
+
+<p><i>Uncle Gab.</i> Where
+the dickens did
+<span class="sc">Monty</span> get this stuff,
+<span class="sc">Maria</span>? Most 'strordinary
+bitter taste!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. Tid.</i> (<i>to herself,
+in an agony</i>).
+I <i>knew</i> that bottle
+of <span class="sc">Gwennie's</span> Quinine
+Wine had got
+down into the cellar
+<i>somehow</i>! (<i>Aloud.</i>)
+Don't drink it,
+Uncle, please, if it
+isn't <i>quite</i> what you
+like!</p>
+
+<p><i>Uncle Gab.</i> I'll
+take his Lordship's
+opinion. What do
+<i>you</i> think of this
+Sherry, my Lord?
+Don't you find it
+rather&mdash;eh?</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>observing
+his hostess
+frown at him imperiously</i>).
+Oh, excellent,
+Sir&mdash;very&mdash;er&mdash;mellow
+and agreeable!</p>
+
+<p><i>Uncle Gab.</i> Ha&mdash;yes&mdash;now
+your Lordship
+mentions it,
+there's a sort of
+nuttiness about it.</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>[<i>He empties his
+glass.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>to
+himself</i>). There is&mdash;a
+<i>rotten</i>-nuttiness!
+I'm hanged if he
+hasn't bolted it!
+Wonderful old
+Johnny!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. Tid.</i> (<i>to him,
+in an under-tone</i>).
+You said <i>quite</i> the
+right thing!</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>ambiguously</i>). Oh, not at all!</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>[<i>Turbot and lobster-sauce are taken round, and conversation
+becomes general.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<p><i>Conversational Scraps.</i> Assure you if I touch the smallest particle
+of lobster it instantly flies to my.... Yes, <i>alive</i>. A dear friend of
+mine positively had to leave her lodgings at the seaside&mdash;she was so
+disturbed by the screams of the lobsters being boiled in the back-kitchen....
+I was reading only the other day that oysters' hearts
+continue to beat down to the very moment they are being assimilated....
+<i>What</i> they must suffer, poor dears! Couldn't there be a law
+that they should only be eaten under chloroform, or something?...
+I <i>never</i> get tired of turbot&mdash;cod, now, I <i>don't</i> care for, and salmon
+I <i>like</i>&mdash;but I can't digest&mdash;<i>why</i>, is more than I can tell you.&mdash;(&amp;c.)</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width:65%;"><a href="images/064.png"><img width="100%" src="images/064.png" alt="Don't make a fuss&mdash;you can take one glass, as he wishes it." /></a><h4>"Don't make a fuss&mdash;you can take <i>one</i> glass, as he wishes it."</h4></div>
+
+<p><i>Miss Seaton.</i> (<i>to herself.</i>) To see <span class="sc">Douglas</span> here a&mdash;a <i>paid parasite</i>&mdash;and
+actually seeming to <i>enjoy</i> his food&mdash;it's like some dreadful
+nightmare&mdash;I <i>can't</i> believe it! But I'm glad he hasn't the face to
+speak to me!</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="sc">Seakale</span> <i>offering Hock.</i>) If you please. (<i>To himself,
+after tasting.</i>) Why, it's quite decent! I begin to feel up to
+having this out with <span class="sc">Marjory</span>. (<i>Aloud.</i>) Miss <span class="sc">Seaton</span>, isn't it
+rather ridiculous for two such old friends as we are to sit through
+dinner in deadly silence? Can't you bring yourself to talk to me?
+we shan't be overheard. You might tell me <i>why</i> you think me such
+a ruffian&mdash;it would start us, at any rate!</p>
+
+<p><i>Miss Seaton.</i> I don't <i>want</i> to be started&mdash;and if you really don't
+know why I hate your coming here in this way, Lord <span class="sc">Strathsporran</span>,
+it's useless to explain!</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> Oh, we got as far as that upstairs, didn't we? And
+I may be very dense, but for the life of me I can't see yet why I
+shouldn't have come! Of course, I didn't know I was in for <i>this</i>
+exactly, but, to tell you the truth, I'm by way of being here on
+business, and I didn't care much whether they were cheery or not, so
+long as I got what I <i>came</i> for, don't you know!</p>
+
+<p><i>Miss Seaton.</i> Of course, that is the main thing in your eyes&mdash;but
+I didn't think you would confess it!</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> Why, you know how keen I used to be about my
+Egyptian work&mdash;you remember the book on Hieroglyphs I always
+meant to write? I'm getting on with it, though of course my time's
+a good deal taken
+up just now. And,
+whether I get anything
+out of these
+people or not, I've
+met <i>you</i> again,
+<span class="sc">Marjory</span>&mdash;I don't
+mind anything
+else!</p>
+
+<p><i>Miss Seaton.</i>
+Don't remind me of&mdash;of
+what you used
+to be, and&mdash;and you
+are not to call me
+<span class="sc">Marjory</span> any more.
+We have met&mdash;and
+I only hope and
+pray we may never
+meet again. Please
+don't talk any more!</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>to
+himself.</i>) That's a
+facer! I wonder if
+<span class="sc">Marjory's</span> quite&mdash;is
+this the effect of
+that infernal influenza?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. Tid.</i> (<i>to him
+in an under-tone</i>).
+You and Miss <span class="sc">Seaton</span>
+appear to be on
+very familiar terms.
+I really feel it my
+duty to ask you
+when and how you
+made the acquaintance
+of my daughter's
+governess.</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>to
+himself</i>). The governess!
+That explains
+a lot. Poor
+little <span class="sc">Marjory</span>!
+(<i>Aloud.</i>) Really?
+I congratulate you.
+I had the honour of
+knowing Miss <span class="sc">Seaton</span>
+in Scotland a
+year or two ago, and this is the first time we have met since.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. Tid.</i> Indeed? That is <i>so far</i> satisfactory. I hope you will
+understand that, so long as Miss <span class="sc">Seaton</span> is in my employment, I
+cannot allow her to&mdash;er&mdash;continue your acquaintanceship&mdash;it is not
+as if you were in a position&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>with suppressed wrath.</i>) Forgive me&mdash;but, as Miss
+<span class="sc">Seaton</span> shows no desire whatever to renew my acquaintance, I don't
+see that we need discuss my position, or hers either. And I must
+decline to do so.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. Tid.</i> (<i>crimsoning.</i>) Oh, very <i>well</i>. I am not accustomed to
+be told what subjects I am to discuss at my own table, but (<i>scathingly</i>)
+no doubt your <i>position here</i> gives you the right to be independent&mdash;ahoo!</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> I venture to think so. (<i>To himself.</i>) Can't make
+this woman out&mdash;is she trying to be rude, or what?</p>
+
+<p><i>Uncle Gab.</i> Hullo, your Lordship's got no Champagne! How's
+that? It's all <i>right</i>&mdash;"<span class="sc">Fizzler</span>, '84," my Lord!</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> I daresay&mdash;but the fact is, I am strictly forbidden
+to touch it.</p>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page65" id="page65"></a>[pg 65]</span><p><i>Uncle Gab.</i> Pooh!&mdash;if your Lordship will excuse the remark&mdash;<i>this</i>
+won't do you any harm&mdash;comes out of my own cellar, so I <i>ought</i> to
+know. (<i>To</i> <span class="sc">Seakale</span>.) Here, you, fill his Lordship's glass, d'ye
+hear?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. Tid.</i> (<i>in a rapid whisper.</i>) Don't make a fuss&mdash;you can take
+<i>one</i> glass as he wishes it!</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>to himself.</i>) Can I though? If she imagines I'm
+going to poison myself to please her uncle! (<span class="sc">Seakale</span> <i>gives him half
+a glass, after receiving a signal from</i> Mrs. T.) I suppose I must
+just&mdash;&mdash;(<i>After tasting.</i>) Why it's <i>dry</i>! Then why the deuce
+was I cautioned not to&mdash;&mdash;?</p>
+
+<p><i>Uncle Gab.</i> That's a fine wine, isn't it, my Lord? Not much of
+<i>that</i> in the market nowadays, I can tell you!</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>to himself.</i>) Precious little <i>here</i>. (<i>Aloud.</i>) So I
+should imagine, Sir.</p>
+
+<p><i>Uncle Gab.</i> Your Lordship mustn't pass this <i>entr&eacute;e</i>. My niece's
+cook knows her business, I will say that for her.</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>as he helps himself.</i>) I have already discovered that
+she is an artist.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. Tid.</i> (<i>in displeased surprise.</i>) Then you know my cook <i>too</i>?
+An <i>artist</i>? and she seems such a <i>respectable</i> person! Pray what
+sort of pictures does she paint?</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> Pictures? Oh, really I don't know&mdash;potboilers
+probably.</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>[Mrs. <span class="sc">Tid.</span> <i>glares at him suspiciously</i>.</p></blockquote>
+
+<p><i>Conversational Scraps.</i> And when I got into the hall and saw
+them all sitting in a row with their faces blacked, I said "I'm sure
+<i>they</i> can't be the Young Men's Christian Association!"...
+Hysteria? my poor dear wife is a dreadful sufferer from it&mdash;I've
+known her unable to sleep at all except with one foot curled round
+her neck!... (&amp;c. &amp;c.)</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>to himself.</i>) There's no doubt about it&mdash;this woman
+<i>is</i> trying to snub me&mdash;hardly brings herself to talk at all&mdash;and <i>then</i>
+she's beastly rude! What did she ask me here <i>for</i> if she can't be
+civil! If she wasn't my hostess&mdash;I'll try her once more, she may
+know something about antiquities&mdash;(<i>Aloud.</i>) I suppose Mr. <span class="sc">Cartouche</span>
+keeps his collection in a separate room? I was told he has
+some hunting scarabs of the Amenhoteps that I am very curious to
+see.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. Tid.</i> (<i>stiffly</i>). Mr. <span class="sc">Cartouche</span> may keep all sorts of disagreeable
+pets, for anything <i>I</i> know to the contrary.</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>to himself, in amazement</i>). Pets! I'm hanged if
+I let myself be snubbed like this! (<i>Aloud.</i>) I'm afraid you have
+very little sympathy with his tastes?</p>
+
+<p><i>Mrs. Tid.</i> Sympathy, indeed! I don't even know if he <i>has</i> any
+tastes. I am not in the habit of troubling myself about my next-door
+neighbour's affairs.</p>
+
+<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>with a gasp</i>). Your next-door&mdash;&mdash;! (<i>He pulls
+himself together.</i>) To be sure&mdash;of course not&mdash;stupid of me to ask!
+(<i>To himself.</i>) Good Heavens!&mdash;these <i>aren't</i> the <span class="sc">Cartouches</span>! I'm
+<i>at the wrong dinner-party</i>&mdash;and this awful woman thinks I've done
+it on purpose! No wonder she's so confoundedly uncivil!...
+And <span class="sc">Marjory</span> knows it, too, and won't speak to me! Perhaps they
+<i>all</i> know it.... What on earth am I to do?... I feel such a fool!</p>
+
+<p><i>Miss Seaton</i> (<i>to herself</i>). How perfectly <i>ghastly</i> <span class="sc">Douglas</span> is
+looking! Didn't he <i>really</i> know the <span class="sc">Cartouches</span> lived next door?...
+Then&mdash;<i>oh</i>, what an idiot I've been! It's a mistake&mdash;he <i>doesn't</i>
+come from <span class="sc">Blankley's</span> at all! I <i>must</i> speak to him&mdash;I must tell
+him how&mdash;&mdash;no, I <i>can't</i>&mdash;I forgot how horrid I've been to him!
+I should have to tell him I believed <i>that</i>&mdash;and I'd rather die! No,
+it's too late&mdash;it's too late now!</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>[Miss <span class="sc">Seaton</span> <i>and</i> Lord <span class="sc">Strathsporran</span> <i>sit regarding the tablecloth
+with downcast eyes, and expressions of the deepest
+gloom and confusion</i>.</p></blockquote>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>End of Scene V.</i>)</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>Rhyme by a Rad.</h2>
+
+<blockquote><p>[The question where the Liberal-Unionists shall sit has excited some
+discussion.]</p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
+<p>They have stolen the old Tory togs bit by bit,</p>
+<p class="i2">And we wish they would openly don them.</p>
+<p>However, it matters not much <i>where</i> they sit,</p>
+<p class="i2">For wherever it be we'll sit <i>on</i> them!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>"<span class="sc">Railway Rates</span>."&mdash;Whatever question there may be on this
+subject, there can be none whatever as to the rates at which "The
+Bournemouth Express," "The Granville L. C. &amp; D.," and "The
+Flying Dutchman," severally travel. Such rates are first rate.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="sc">Con. for the Consolation of the many Sufferers from a
+current Catch-word</span>.&mdash;<i>Q.</i> What is the only thing that is <i>really</i>
+"up-to-date"?&mdash;<i>A.</i> A palm-tree.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="sc">Mem. for Mr. Vivian and the Royalists</span>.&mdash;The Last of the
+<span class="sc">Stuarts</span>,&mdash;<span class="sc">Stuart <i>Knill</i></span>. There can be none after <i>Nil</i>.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>DRAMATIC WITHOUT BEING STAGEY.</h2>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width:25%;"><a href="images/065.png"><img width="100%" src="images/065.png" alt="" /></a></div>
+
+<p>The plan, successfully inaugurated, and, within the last fortnight,
+still more successfully carried out by Sir <span class="sc">Druriolanus Operaticus
+Balmascus Pantomimicus</span>, of giving what may be called "unstagey
+representations" of popular Operas&mdash;that is, popular Operas sung
+and acted without the aid of scenes or properties (though "substitutes"
+may be permitted, as, for example, a chair with four legs
+complete would
+represent a horse,
+and a round table
+a tower); the
+singers, however,
+being in costume,
+may work an extensive
+"Transformation"
+Scene
+(which is quite
+in Sir <span class="sc">Drurio's</span>
+line) in the
+Dramatic and Operatic world, and
+may effect such a change as will save
+thousands to a Manager. Why not
+go a step further? Why have "costumes,"
+or even "hand-properties"? Why not leave everything,
+except the perfection of the singing and the dramatic action, to
+the imagination of the audience? The prices of admission would
+be proportionately lowered, and the numbers admitted, in all probability,
+would be trebled, on which hypothesis a calculation may
+be based. What an exercise it would be for the imagination of the
+audience, were the Statue Scene from <i>Don Giovanni</i> to be given
+with the Basso Profondo in evening dress, who represents the Stony
+Commendatore, seated astride a plank resting on tressels placed on a
+table which would have been substituted for the stone pedestal,
+while the Don or <i>Leporello</i> (it doesn't much matter which) sings his
+asides to the audience! Here is novelty, and a great attraction!
+It is returning to Elizabethan days, when Managers called a spade
+a spade, and then so labelled it to prevent mistakes.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="sc">Song from "As You Like It"</span> (<i>for the Member for East Galway,
+arranged by Colonel Saunderson, M.P.</i>).&mdash;"What shall he have
+who shot the Deer?"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="sc">A Bank Note</span>.&mdash;The most likely time for obtaining payment "in
+hard cash," is when the Money Market "hardens a little," as
+was the case, so <i>The Times</i> Money Article informed us, last Friday.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page66" id="page66"></a>[pg 66]</span><div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/066.png"><img width="100%" src="images/066.png" alt="AN EARLY PURITAN." /></a><h3>AN EARLY PURITAN.</h3>
+
+<p><i>Bobby</i> (<i>who sees his Mamma in Evening Dress for the first time, and doesn't like it</i>). "<span class="sc">I'll write and tell Papa!</span>"</p></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>"A STIFF JOB."</h2>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Grand Old Ploughman sings</i>:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
+<p>Speed the Plough! Ah, that's all mighty fine,</p>
+<p class="i2">And I like the old saying's suggestion;</p>
+<p>But&mdash;wi' a small crock such as mine,</p>
+<p class="i2">The <i>speed</i> may be matter o' question.</p>
+<p>I've set my hand to 'un, o' course,</p>
+<p class="i2">And munna look back, there's no doubt o' it:</p>
+<p>Yet I wish I'd a handier horse</p>
+<p class="i2">For the job, or that <i>I</i> were well out o' it!</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>Stiff clay on a slaantin' hill-side,</p>
+<p class="i2">Would tax a strong team. Steady, steady!</p>
+<p>The little 'un goes a bit wide,</p>
+<p class="i2">And seems to be shirkin' already.</p>
+<p>To keep a straight furrow this go</p>
+<p class="i2">Will strain the old ploughman's slack muscle;</p>
+<p>And yet my new measters, I know,</p>
+<p class="i2">Will expect I to keep on the bustle.</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>Stiff job for a little 'un? Yes!</p>
+<p class="i2">If he doesn't pull straight there'll be bother,</p>
+<p>Must make the best of 'un I guess,</p>
+<p class="i2">This time, for I sha'an't get no other.</p>
+<p>Gee up! I shall have a good try,</p>
+<p class="i2">On that they may bet their last dollar.</p>
+<p>It's do, poor old crook, now, or die!</p>
+<p class="i2">But&mdash;I <i>must</i> keep 'un oop to the collar!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>"This room is very close!" said Mrs. R.,
+settling herself down to her knitting, which
+her nephew had furtively unravelled. "Open
+the window, <span class="sc">Tom</span>, and let out the asphyxia."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>LINES ON THE AUTHOR OF THE
+LABOUR BUREAU.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>By a Labourer.</i>)</p>
+
+<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
+<p>'Ooray for Mister <span class="sc">Mundella</span>,</p>
+<p>(Who's under Old <span class="sc">Gladdy's</span> umbrella.)</p>
+<p class="i2">For he's a jolly good fella,</p>
+<p class="i4">And so say all of <i>hus</i>!</p>
+<p>With a 'ip, 'ip, 'ip, 'ooray!</p>
+<p>We hope the Bureau may pay.</p>
+<p class="i2">Of course it might well have been better,</p>
+<p class="i4">But then&mdash;it might have been <i>wus</i>!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="sc">Emphasis Grati&acirc;</span>.&mdash;What a difference a
+slight emphasis makes in an ordinary sentence!
+The <i>D. T.</i> when giving, in advance,
+an account of a marriage to be solemnised
+the same afternoon, spoke thus concerning
+the costumes of the very youthful bridesmaids.
+"They will wear dresses of very
+pale blue silk, made up with ivory-hued
+lace." Now, had the second word been in
+italics, it would have read thus, "They <i>will</i>
+wear," &amp;c., as if everything had been done to
+prevent them from so arraying themselves,
+"but, in spite of all efforts, they <i>will</i> wear
+dresses of very pale blue!" So obstinate of
+them! Such nice little ladies, too!</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>"The Liberal-Unionists have resolved to
+abstain from pairing during the present
+Session." So <i>The Times</i>. "Birds in their
+little nests agree," quoth the eminent Dr.
+<span class="sc">Watts</span>; but these Parliamentary Birds will
+belie their name of "Unionists" if they refuse
+to "pair."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="sc">Telegram from Hawaians to American
+President</span>.&mdash;"WE would be U.S."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE ANTI&mdash;&mdash;?</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
+<p>Your aid let me ask in a difficult task, <i>Mr. Punch</i>, with the greatest submission;</p>
+<p>To win for my name a well-merited fame was always my ardent ambition,</p>
+<p>And clearly to-day the least difficult way is to send an appeal to the papers,</p>
+<p>To form an intrigue for creating a league against fashion-designers and drapers.</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>Thereby shall I reap an advertisement cheap, and writers, with much perseverance,</p>
+<p>Will furnish as news their apocryphal views on my appetite, age, and appearance;</p>
+<p>They all will revere my conviction sincere, and loudly re-echo my praises,</p>
+<p>But the thing which, as yet, I'm unable to get, is a novel departure in crazes</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>The idea shall we float that a swallow-tail coat is only adapted for Vandals?</p>
+<p>Write pamphlets, designed to enlighten mankind on the duty of taking to sandals?</p>
+<p>Would a hatred of hats, or crusade on cravats, secure us a sympathy louder?</p>
+<p>Or shall we assert it is time to revert to patches, knee-breeches, and powder?</p>
+</div> <div class="stanza">
+<p>Meanwhile, your applause we invite for our Cause&mdash;you notice the capital letter&mdash;</p>
+<p>Subscriptions and fees you may send when you please to the writer, the sooner the better.</p>
+<p>But as to the theme of this notable scheme, I wait for a timely suggestion;</p>
+<p>Its worth's beyond doubt, but what it's about remains, for the present, a question!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>The Bishop of <span class="sc">Chester</span> trembles. He is
+marked with the brand of "<span class="sc">Caine</span>"!</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page67" id="page67"></a>[pg 67]</span><div class="figcenter" style="width:75%;"><a href="images/067.png"><img width="100%" src="images/067.png" alt="A STIFF JOB." /></a><h3>"A STIFF JOB."</h3>
+
+<p>W. E. G. (<i>to himself</i>). "SHALL HAVE TO KEEP HIM <i>UP TO THE COLLAR</i>!" (<i>Aloud.</i>) "GEE UP!!"</p></div>
+
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page68" id="page68"></a>[pg 68]</span><hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page69" id="page69"></a>[pg 69]</span>
+
+<h2>CONVERSATIONAL HINTS FOR YOUNG SHOOTERS.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">HOSTS.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Punch," writes a valued Correspondent, "I wish you'd
+tip me the wink how I'm to talk to my hosts. I'm a poor man, but
+not a poor shot. So I get asked about a good deal to different
+places, and as I'm not the sort that turns on the talking-tap very
+easily, I often get stuck up. Just as I've got fairly into the swim
+with one of them I leave him, and have to think of talk for quite a
+different kind of chap, and so on all through the season. For
+instance, last December I did three shoots in as many weeks. The
+first was with old <span class="sc">Callaby</span>, the rich manufacturer, who's turned
+sportsman late in life. I thought he'd like a talk about bimetallism,
+so I sweated it up a bit, and started off with a burst as soon as I got
+a look in. All no go. Nothing would please him but to talk of
+birds, and rabbits, and hares, and farming, and crops, and who was
+going to be High Sheriff, and all that. So I got a little left at the
+first go off.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/069.png"><img width="100%" src="images/069.png" alt="" /></a></div>
+
+<p>"Next week I shot with <span class="sc">Blossom</span>, another new friend, who's
+come into money lately, after knocking about all over America the
+greater part of his life.
+I tried him with the
+Chicago Exposition,
+and ranching as a business
+for younger sons;
+did it delicately, of
+course, and with any
+amount of deference,
+but he only looked at
+me blankly, and began
+talking about the Bank-rate.
+After that, I
+settled with myself I
+wouldn't talk to any
+more of them about
+things that they might
+be expected to feel an
+interest in.</p>
+
+<p>"In the following
+week I was due at
+<span class="sc">Whichello's</span>. He's
+been a perfect lunatic
+all his life for music.
+He got up an orchestra
+in his nursery, which
+came to smash because
+his younger brother
+filled all the wind instruments
+with soap-suds.
+Later on he was
+always scraping, or
+blowing, or thumping,
+scooting about from
+one concert to another,
+making expeditions to
+the shrine of <span class="sc">Wagner</span>
+as he called it, composing
+songs, and symphonies,
+and operas, and
+Heaven only knows
+what besides. He came
+into the old place in
+Essex when his brother died, about a year ago, and this was his
+first pheasant-shoot. I thought to myself, 'If you're anything
+like these other Johnnies, it's no good pulling out the music-stop
+with you.' On the first morning he seemed a shade anxious at
+breakfast, and said he was going to try a new plan of beating his
+coverts, which it had given him a lot of trouble to arrange as he
+wanted. Off we went after breakfast. We had about half a mile
+to walk before we got to the first wood, and I kept puzzling my
+brains the whole way about this blessed new dodge of beating.</p>
+
+<p>"'Where are the beaters?' I said to <span class="sc">Whichello</span>, when we
+got there, for devil a bit of one did I see.</p>
+
+<p>"'You'll find them out directly,' says <span class="sc">Whichello</span>, looking sly
+and triumphant; 'just you stand here, and wait. You'll get some
+shooting, I warrant you;' and, with that, he posted the other
+guns at the far end of the covert, told me and another chap we
+were to walk outside, in line with the beaters, and walked off.
+Suddenly he gave a whistle. Then what do you think happened?
+I'll give you a hundred guesses, and you won't be on it. Out of
+a little planting, about fifty yards off the piece we were to shoot,
+came marching a troop of rustics, dressed as rustic beaters usually
+are, but each of them carrying, in place of the ordinary beater's
+stick, a musical instrument of some sort. They were headed by
+the keeper, who waved a kind of <i>b&acirc;ton</i>. When they got to our
+covert, they arranged themselves in line, and then, on a signal from
+<span class="sc">Whichello</span>, crash, bang! they struck up the <i>Tannh&auml;user March</i>,
+and disappeared into the wood.</p>
+
+<p>"'Line up, Trombone!' shouted the keeper&mdash;I heard his
+stentorian roar above the din&mdash;'Come, hurry along with the
+Bombardon; Ophicleide, you're too far in front. Keep it going,
+Clarinets. Now then, all together! What are you up to, Cymbals?
+Let 'em have it!' And thus they came banging and booming
+and blowing through the covert. The bassoon tripped into a thorn-bush,
+the big-drum rolled over the trunk of a tree and smashed his
+instrument, the hautboy threw his at an escaping rabbit, while
+the flute-man walked straight into a pool of water, and had to be
+pulled out by the triangle. But the rest of them got through somehow
+with that infernal idiot of a conducting keeper, still backing
+and twisting and waving like mad in the front. That was
+<span class="sc">Whichello's</span> idea of beating his coverts. 'Combining &aelig;sthetic
+pleasure with sporting pursuits,' he called it. Somehow we had
+managed to bring down a brace of pheasants, which, with three
+rabbits, made up our total, out of a covert which ought to have
+yielded ten times as many.</p>
+
+<p>"I daresay you won't believe this story, but it's true all the same.
+If you don't believe it,
+write to <span class="sc">Whichello</span>
+himself. I never saw
+anyone half so pleased
+as that fool was. He
+had given up all his
+time to teaching his
+rustics music, with a
+view to this performance,
+and had shoved in,
+as one of his keepers,
+a sporting third violin
+from the Drury Lane
+orchestra. They said
+it was glorious, and
+congratulated one another
+all round, with as
+much enthusiasm as if
+they'd repelled a
+foreign invasion. On
+the next beat they
+played the <i>March in
+Scipio</i>, and after that
+came a <i>Pot-Pourri of
+Popular Melodies</i>, arranged
+by the keeper.
+They played a selection
+from <i>The Pirates of
+Penzance</i> while we
+lunched, and took the
+big wood to the tunes
+of '<i>Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay</i>'
+and '<i>Up-rouse
+ye then, my
+merry, merry Men!</i>'
+'<i>Rule Britannia</i>' and
+'<i>Home, Sweet Home</i>,'
+played us back to the
+house. I never heard
+such a confounded Babel
+of brass and wood in
+all my life. A German
+band in a country town couldn't come near it. Curiously enough, we
+most of us got urgent letters by next morning's post, summoning us
+home at once to attend to business, or to be present at the death-beds
+of relatives. I thought you'd like to hear this story, old cock.
+If you like, you're very welcome to shove it in your shooting series.
+I've seen a lot of rum goes in my life, but this was the rummest of
+the lot. And don't forget to let me have a word or two about talking
+to one's host. I know what I thought of that maniac <span class="sc">Whichello</span>,
+but I shouldn't have liked to say that to him.</p>
+
+<p class="center">"Yours to a turn,<br />
+<span class="sc">A Sportsman</span>."</p>
+
+<p>For the present I must leave this striking letter to the judgment
+of my readers. Space fails me to deal with it adequately. On
+another occasion I may be able to set down some ideas on the
+difficult subject suggested by my polite Correspondent.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="sc">The Appreciation of Gold.</span>&mdash;"Why all this fuss?" writes a
+Correspondent. "Is there a difficulty in finding persons who
+properly appreciate gold? If so, I, Sir, am not of that number. I
+will be happy to receive from the Bank any quantity of sovereigns;
+and, further, I will undertake to show and honestly express my
+appreciation of this generosity on the part of the Bank. Ah! I
+should like to possess any number of those 'promises of May.'</p>
+
+<p class="center">"Yours,<br />
+<span class="sc">A Munnie Grubber</span>."</p>
+
+<hr />
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page70" id="page70"></a>[pg 70]</span>
+
+<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</p>
+
+<p><i>House of Commons, Tuesday, Jan. 31st.</i>&mdash;"Members desiring to
+take their seats will please come to the Table."</p>
+
+<p>'Twas the voice of the <span class="sc">Speaker</span>; one could hear him declaim just
+as Big Ben tolled four o'clock this afternoon. House crowded in
+every part, throbbing with excitement; crowds everywhere. In
+Centre Hall some vainly hoping for impossible places; others content
+to see the men go by whose names they read in the papers. Outside
+Palace Yard multitude standing patiently for hours, happy if only
+they saw the tip of Mr. G.'s hat as he drove in at the gate, or
+imagined the buttons on the Squire of <span class="sc">Malwood's</span> gaiters. Never,
+in recent times, such a rush on opening days.</p>
+
+<p>And Colonel <span class="sc">Saunderson</span>, comfortably seated on Front Bench
+below Gangway, in choice companionship with Dr. <span class="sc">Tanner</span>, actually
+yawning!</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width:65%;"><a href="images/070.png"><img width="100%" src="images/070.png" alt="Historical Subject" /></a><p class="center"><span class="sc">Historical Subject</span>.&mdash;S-nd-rs-n "finding the body of"&mdash;T-nn-r.</p></div>
+
+<p>"All very well for you, <span class="sc">Toby</span>, dear boy," he said, responsive to
+my polite stare. "You come down here leisurely in afternoon, and
+take your seat. I've been on war-path since before daybreak.
+Knew the wild Irishmen meant to open proceedings of Session by
+appropriating our seats. Have not served in Royal Irish Fusiliers
+for nothing. Session opened by Royal Commission at two o'clock
+this afternoon. Thought if I arrived on spot at seven in morning
+would be in moderately good time. Here before seven: place in
+utter darkness; found friendly policeman with bull's-eye light;
+tightened my belt; cocked my pistol; requisitioned Bobby and his
+lantern. You should have seen us groping our way into House;
+Bobby first, with bull's-eye
+lantern professionally flashing
+to right and left, under
+seats, into dark corners.
+Made straight for my old
+corner-seat below Gangway;
+something white gleaming
+on front bench; with supple
+turn of wrist Bobby brought
+flambeau to bear upon it;
+found it was <span class="sc">Tanner</span>&mdash;<span class="sc">Tanner</span>,
+hatless, coatless,
+without even a waistcoat on!
+You might have knocked me
+down with much less than
+bayonet-prod. 'Morning,
+Colonel,' says he. 'Been
+here all night?' I gasped.
+'Oh, no,' says he; 'had cup
+of coffee at stall by Westminster
+Bridge, bought a
+few hats in the New Cut,
+and, you see, I've planted
+them out.' So he had, by
+Gad! Every corner-seat
+taken, and he prone in <span class="sc">Jemmy Lowther's</span>. 'Weren't enough o'
+them,' <span class="sc">Tanner</span> said, with his sixpenny snigger; 'couldn't leave
+put our revered leaders, <span class="sc">Tim Healy</span> and <span class="sc">O'Brien</span>, you know. So
+just took off my coat, flopped it down for <span class="sc">Tim</span>, hung the waist-coast
+on a knob, and there's <span class="sc">William O'Brien's</span> place secured for
+the night. Now, if you'd like a seat, you'll find one above the
+Gangway; or if you want to come and sit by me, here you are. I've
+got a necktie, a collar, and a pair of braces to spare; if you've any
+particular friends in your mind, why, we'll get seats for them.'
+No knowing what a fellow like <span class="sc">Tanner</span> would do in these circumstances.
+Even his trowsers not sacred. So made best of bad job,
+and here I am. At least, better off than <span class="sc">Jemmy Lowther</span>, evicted
+without compensation for disturbance."</p>
+
+<p>Conversation interrupted by loud cheer. Mr. G. marching with
+head erect, and swinging stride, to take the Oath and his seat.
+Necessary by Standing Orders that two Members shall accompany
+new Member on these occasions to certify identity and prevent guilty
+impersonation. It's a wise child that knows his own father, but
+<span class="sc">Herbert</span>, walking on one side of Premier, with <span class="sc">Marjoribanks</span> on
+other, ready to testify. Clerk at table, thus assured all was right,
+administered Oath and then conducted Premier up to <span class="sc">Speaker</span>,
+presenting the new Member.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. <span class="sc">Gladstone</span>, I presume," said <span class="sc">Speaker</span>, making a motion
+towards extending his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Sir," said the new Member, nervously.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me!" said the <span class="sc">Speaker</span>, now shaking hands. "I've often
+heard of you. I daresay you'll soon get accustomed to the place,
+and will, I hope, be comfortable." Mr. G. bowed, and retired to his
+seat. <span class="sc">Speaker</span> suffered succession of shocks as in same way were
+brought up and introduced to him, <span class="sc">Squire of Malwood</span>, <span class="sc">John Morley</span>,
+<span class="sc">Campbell-Bannerman</span>, the Count <span class="sc">Mundellani</span>, <span class="sc">George Trevelyan</span>,
+The Boy <span class="sc">Asquith</span>, and quite a host of new acquaintances.</p>
+
+<p><i>Business done.</i>&mdash;New Members took their seats. Address moved.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday Night.</i>&mdash;Something like flash of old times to-night.
+Of course, it came from Irish quarter, and it was <span class="sc">Saunderson</span> who
+kindled the torch. Colonel presented himself early in sitting on
+corner bench below Gangway. This apparently reverted to possession
+of <span class="sc">Jemmy Lowther</span>. He lent it to Colonel for an hour, sitting
+on other side of him. How they secured the place is a mystery,
+darkened by temporary disappearance of <span class="sc">Tanner</span>. "Where is
+<span class="sc">Tanner</span>?" Members ask, looking, not without suspicion, on placid
+face and generally respectable appearance of <span class="sc">Jemmy Lowther</span>. Last
+seen, not exactly in company of <span class="sc">Jemmy</span> and the Colonel, rather in
+conflict for the corner-seat. <span class="sc">Lowther</span> has the seat; lends it to
+<span class="sc">Saunderson</span>. But where is <span class="sc">Tanner</span>?</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, <i>he</i>'s all right," said <span class="sc">Lowther</span>, with forced smile, when
+<span class="sc">Justin McCarthy</span>, with ill-feigned indifference, inquired after the
+lamb missing from his fold. "Bad sixpence, you know; always
+turns up," <span class="sc">Jemmy</span> added. But his merriment forced, and <span class="sc">Saunderson</span>
+abruptly changed subject.</p>
+
+<p>Evidently a case for <span class="sc">Sherlock Holmes</span>; must place it in his
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>Doubtless it was with object of diverting attention from a ghastly
+subject that <span class="sc">Saunderson</span> led up to row alluded to. In course of
+remarks on release of Gweedore prisoners, he alluded to Father
+<span class="sc">McFadden</span> as "a ruffian." Irish Members not used to language of
+that kind. Howled in pained indignation; the Colonel, astonished
+at his own moderation, varied the phrase by calling the respected
+P.P. "a murderous ruffian." Shouts of horror from compatriots
+closely massed behind. <span class="sc">Tim Healy</span>, in particular, boiling with indignation
+at use of language of this character addressed to gentlemen
+from whom one had
+difference of opinion on
+public matters. Nothing
+would content them short of
+absolute and immediate withdrawal.
+Colonel declined to
+withdraw. Uproar rose in
+ungovernable fury. Every
+time Colonel opened his
+mouth to continue his remarks,
+an Irish Member (so
+to speak) jumped down his
+throat.</p>
+
+<p>Considerable proportion of
+Ministerial majority had disappeared
+in this fashion,
+when happy thought occurred
+to <span class="sc">John Dillon</span>. Hotly
+moved that <span class="sc">Saunderson</span> "be
+no longer heard." Considering
+he had not been
+heard for fully five minutes,
+this joke excellent. <span class="sc">Speaker</span>,
+however, wouldn't see it.
+<span class="sc">Colonel</span> trumped the card
+by moving Adjournment of Debate. Mr. G. interposed, adjured
+<span class="sc">Saunderson</span> to put end to scene by withdrawing expression
+objected to.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel, hitherto obdurate, found irresistible the stately appeal
+from Premier. "Certainly," said he, ever ready to oblige; "I will
+withdraw the words 'murderous ruffian,' and substitute the expression,
+excited politician." This accepted as perfectly satisfactory.
+Terms apparently synonymous; but the latter, on the whole, less
+irritating to susceptible nerves. Irish members round about
+fell on Colonel's neck; embraced him with tears; gently disengaging
+himself, he proceeded uninterrupted to the end of his
+address.</p>
+
+<p>"Capital title that," said <span class="sc">George Newnes</span>, who always has eye
+to business. "Shall start a new Weekly; lead off with serial Novel
+by Colonel <span class="sc">Saunderson</span>, entitled <i>The Murderous Ruffian; or, the
+Excited Politician</i>. Sure to take."</p>
+
+<p>All very well, this cleverly conceived diversion. But where is
+Dr. <span class="sc">Tanner</span>? <i>Business done.</i>&mdash;Debate on Address.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday Night.</i>&mdash;Still harping on Ireland. Began with row round
+issue of Writ for South Meath. <span class="sc">Esmonde</span>, one of innumerable Whips
+present House possesses, says the business was his. "Then why
+didn't you do it?" asked <span class="sc">Nolan</span>. "As you didn't seem disposed
+to move, I do." Nationalists want to get North Meath Election
+finished first; Parnellites don't. So <span class="sc">Esmonde</span> is in no hurry to
+move Writ, and Colonel <span class="sc">Nolan</span> is. Pretty, in these circumstances
+to hear <span class="sc">Nolan</span> with his indignant inquiry, "Is the moving of Writs
+to be taken as an Election dodge?"</p>
+
+<p>After Ireland, Uganda. <span class="sc">Sage of Queen Anne's Gate</span> talked for
+hour and half. Later, rose to blandly explain that this was only
+half his speech; rest will be delivered when he brings question up
+again on Supplementary Vote. As Mr. G. says, this is fair notice,
+and every Member may determine for himself whether he will
+forego a portion of the promised treat. <i>Business done.</i>&mdash;Talking.</p>
+
+<hr /><span class="pagenum"><a name="page71" id="page71"></a>[pg 71]</span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/071.png"><img width="100%" src="images/071.png" alt="THE PARLIAMENTARY BILL MARKET, ST. STEPHENS." /></a><h3>THE PARLIAMENTARY BILL MARKET, ST. STEPHENS.</h3></div>
+
+<hr /><span class="pagenum"><a name="page72" id="page72"></a>[pg 72]</span>
+
+<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2>
+
+<p>Everyone knows Mr. <span class="sc">Austin Dobson's</span> dainty verse. In <i>Eighteenth
+Century Vignettes</i> (<span class="sc">Chatto and Windus</span>) everyone has an opportunity,
+which he will do well to seize, to enjoy his equally charming prose.
+Mr. <span class="sc">Dobson</span> is one of those enviable men who have time to
+read. He spends an appreciable portion of his days and nights not
+only with <span class="sc">Addison</span>, but with <span class="sc">Steele</span>, <span class="sc">Prior</span>, <span class="sc">Johnson</span>, <span class="sc">Goldsmith</span>,
+and others, whom a generation that read newspapers and subscribe
+to <span class="sc">Mudie's</span>, know only by name. Mr. <span class="sc">Dobson</span> is so omnivorous,
+that he has read right through <span class="sc">Jonas Hanway's</span> <i>Journal of Eight
+Days' Journey from Portsmouth to Kingston-upon-Thames</i>, the
+book which drew from <span class="sc">Johnson</span> the genial remark that <span class="sc">Hanway</span>
+"had acquired some reputation by travelling abroad, but lost it all
+by travelling at home." A man that would read that, would read
+anything. Mr. <span class="sc">Dobson</span>, happily, survived it, living to write a paper
+in which, within the limit of a
+few pages, we become thoroughly
+acquainted with <span class="sc">Jonas</span>, his travels
+in Persia, his discreet flirtations,
+his umbrella (the first under which
+man ever walked in the streets
+of London), his suit of rich dark
+brown, lined with ermine, his
+<i>chapeau bras</i> with gold button, his
+gold-hilted sword, and his three
+pairs of stockings. <span class="sc">Jonas</span> always
+thought there was safety in numbers,
+whether odd or even. When
+he travelled, his "Partie" consisted
+of Mrs. D. and Mrs. O.
+When he dedicated a book (which
+Mr. <span class="sc">Dobson</span> found, more than a
+hundred years later, in a second-hand
+book-shop in Holborn), he
+inscribed it to the "Twin Sisters,
+Miss <span class="sc">Elizabeth</span> &amp; Miss <span class="sc">Caroline
+Grigg</span>." When he took his
+walks abroad, he wore three pairs
+of stockings. <span class="sc">Jonas Hanway</span>,
+under Mr. <span class="sc">Dobson's</span> care, is
+unexpectedly delightful. With
+the same magic touch he brings
+upon the stage <span class="sc">Steele</span>, <span class="sc">Fielding</span>,
+<span class="sc">Goldsmith</span>, <span class="sc">Gray</span>, <span class="sc">Hogarth's
+Sigismunda</span>, and Dr. <span class="sc">Johnson</span>,
+who lives for us again in his
+garret in Gough Square. These
+<i>Vignettes</i> should be framed in the
+private room of every man and
+woman who loves books.</p>
+
+<p>(<i>Signed</i>), "<i>Non obstat</i>,"
+<span class="sc">Baron de B.-W.</span></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>Discovered in Drury Lane</h2>
+
+<blockquote><p><i>Near the new Baker Street Lodging
+House established by the County
+Council.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza">
+<p>I 'old it true wote'er befall;</p>
+<p class="i2">I feel it when things go most cross;</p>
+<p class="i2">Better to do a fi'penny doss,</p>
+<p>Than never do a doss at all!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>"<span class="sc">Waite for the End</span>."&mdash;On
+Friday last, at another Unemployed
+Meeting, a certain person, whose name is never mentioned in
+ears polite, "found mischief still," as wrote the immortal Dr. <span class="sc">Watts</span>,
+"for idle hands to do," and set one <span class="sc">Waite</span>, whether a light or heavy
+weight is not stated, and one <span class="sc">Sullivan</span>, by the ears. It was a hand-to-hand
+fight, and <span class="sc">Waite</span> was subsequently captured and brought
+before the Magistrate. <i>Mem.</i> for <span class="sc">Waite</span>, in the words of a recently
+popular song, "<i>Never hit a Man of the name of Sullivan.</i>"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="sc">Fallen Fortunes.</span>&mdash;Quoth <i>The Observer</i> of a certain celebrity,
+"The family to which he belongs can trace an uninterrupted descent
+for a period of six centuries." What an awful "come-down"!
+<i>Quelle d&eacute;gringolade!</i></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="sc">Between Two Government Officials.</span>&mdash;"What do you think
+of <span class="sc">Campbell-Bannerman's</span> choice of an assistant private secretary?
+Odd? eh?" "Not odd! <i>Strange.</i>"</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="sc">Proverb for Members of Parliament who wish to secure
+Seats.</span>&mdash;"Two Hats are better than one."</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:45%;"><a href="images/072.png"><img width="100%" src="images/072.png" alt="SELF-PRESERVATION IS THE FIRST LAW OF NATURE" /></a><h3>SELF-PRESERVATION IS THE FIRST LAW OF NATURE;</h3> <p class="center">OR, GETTING THE START OF CRINOLINE.</p></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE INFANT'S GUIDE TO KNOWLEDGE.</h2>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="sc">Concerning Cash</span>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Question.</i> What is cash?</p>
+
+<p><i>Answer.</i> Cash may be described as comfort in the concrete.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> Is it not sometimes called "the root of all evil"?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> Yes, by those who do not possess it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> Is it possible to live without cash?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> Certainly&mdash;upon credit.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> Can you tell me what is credit?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> Credit is the motive power which induces persons who have
+cash, to part with some of it to those who have it not.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> Can you give me an instance of credit?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> Certainly. A young man who is able to live at the rate of
+a thousand a-year, with an income not exceeding nothing a month,
+is a case of credit.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> Would it be right to describe
+such a transaction "as much to
+his credit"?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> It would be more precise
+to say, "much by his credit;"
+although the former phrase would
+be accepted by a large class of the
+community as absolutely accurate.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> What is bimetallism?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> Bimetallism is a subject
+that is frequently discussed by
+amateur financiers, after a good
+dinner, on the near approach of
+the coffee.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> Can you give me your impression
+of the theory of bimetallism?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> My impression of bimetallism
+is the advisability of obtaining
+silver, if you cannot get gold.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> What is the best way of
+securing gold?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> The safest way is to borrow
+it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> Can money be obtained in
+any other way?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> In the olden time it was
+gathered on Hounslow Heath and
+other deserted spots, by mounted
+horsemen wearing masks and
+carrying pistols.</p>
+
+<p><i>Q.</i> What is the modern way of
+securing funds, on the same principles,
+but with smaller risk?</p>
+
+<p><i>A.</i> By promoting Companies
+and other expedients known to
+the members of the Stock Exchange.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>QUEER QUERIES.</h2>
+
+<p><span class="sc">Foreign Clerks.</span>&mdash;I should be
+grateful for any information as
+to where I could acquire a knowledge
+of French, German, Italian,
+Spanish, Arabic, and Russian,
+without leaving the neighbourhood
+of Camberwell New Road,
+and at a merely nominal cost. I
+find that, unless I know those languages,
+I have no chance of competing
+with German Clerks; whereas, if I did know them, I should
+be nearly sure of obtaining a berth in a London Firm at not less
+than fifteen shillings a week, rising, by half centuries, to fifteen
+and sixpence, and even to sixteen shillings. Also, what is the least
+amount of porridge (without milk or sugar), haricot beans, or lentil
+soup, that will preserve a person from starvation, if he takes
+nothing else, and works fourteen hours a day? I intend imitating
+my Teutonic rivals in frugality, as well as in languages; any
+dietetic hints (especially from Scotchmen), would therefore be
+welcomed by <span class="sc">No Polyglot</span>.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="sc">A Delicate Request.</span>&mdash;On Wednesday&mdash;that day in every week
+which is kept as a whole holiday in honour of <i>Mr. Punch</i>&mdash;the
+8th Feb., there is to be "a meeting of Old Paulines" at Anderton's
+Hotel, when "<i>the attendance of all Old Paulines is requested</i>."
+Ahem! The aged representatives of the heroine of the <i>Lady of
+Lyons</i> will not be attracted by the wording of this rather un-paulite
+announcement. Why was not the invitation extended to the old
+<i>Claude Melnottes</i> as well? There must be a lot of them about.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><font size="+1">&#x261e;</font>NOTICE.&mdash;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>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="pg" />
+
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 104, FEBRUARY 11, 1893***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 21818-h.txt or 21818-h.zip *******</p>
+<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br />
+<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/8/1/21818">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/1/8/1/21818</a></p>
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+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104,
+February 11, 1893, by Various, Edited by Francis Burnand
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, February 11, 1893
+
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Francis Burnand
+
+Release Date: June 12, 2007 [eBook #21818]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI,
+VOL. 104, FEBRUARY 11, 1893***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Matt Whittaker, Juliet Sutherland, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+ file which includes the original illustrations.
+ See 21818-h.htm or 21818-h.zip:
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/8/1/21818/21818-h/21818-h.htm)
+ or
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/8/1/21818/21818-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
+
+VOL. 104
+
+FEBRUARY 11, 1893
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LAST WOMAN.
+
+(_A contemporary Pendant to "The Last Man."_)
+
+ [It is stated that the dreaded Crinoline has actually made its
+ appearance in one or two quarters.]
+
+ All modish shapes must melt in gloom,
+ Great WORTH himself must die,
+ Before the Sex again assume
+ EVE'S sweet simplicity!
+ I saw a vision in my sleep,
+ Which made me bow my head and weep
+ As one aghast, accurst!
+ Was it a spook before me past?
+ Of women I beheld the last,
+ As ADAM saw the first.
+
+ Regent Street seemed "No Thoroughfare,"
+ Bond Street looked weird, inhuman;
+ The spectres of past fashions were
+ Around that lonely Woman.
+ Some were the work of native hands,
+ Some had arrived from foreign lands,
+ Nondescript jumbles some!
+ Pall-Mall had now nor sound nor tread,
+ Park Lane was silent as the dead,
+ Belgravia was dumb.
+
+ Yet, lighthouse-like, that lone one stood,
+ Or whisked her skirts around,
+ Like a wild wind that sweeps the wood,
+ And strews with leaves the ground.
+ Singing, "Our hour is come, O Sun
+ Of Fashion! We'll have no more fun.
+ Solitude is _too_ slow!
+ True thou hast worn ten thousand shapes
+ (In spite of man's sour gibes and japes),
+ But--now the thing lacks go.
+
+ "What though the grumbler Man put forth
+ His pompous power and skill!
+ He could not make Woman and WORTH
+ The vassals of his will;--
+ Fashion, I mourn thy parted sway,
+ Thou dim discrowned Queen! To play
+ To empty box and stall;
+ To dress--when not another She
+ Exists to quicken rivalry--
+ No, it won't pay at all!
+
+ "Go, let oblivion's curtain fall
+ Upon the works of men!
+ Nothing they did that's worth recall,
+ With sword, or spade, or pen.
+ Their bumptious bunglings bring not back!
+ Man always _was_ a noisy quack
+ Who thought himself a god;
+ But when he fancied he had scored
+ Prodigiously, the Sex he bored
+ Subdued him with a nod.
+
+ "Now I am weary. No one tries
+ The fit of new attire!
+ Doom, that the joys of Dress denies,
+ Bids Woman's bliss expire.
+ But shall _La Mode_ know final death?
+ Forbid it Woman's latest breath!
+ Death--who is _male_--shan't boast
+ The eclipse of Fashion. Such a pall
+ Shall not like Darkness cover all--
+ Till _I_ give up the ghost!
+
+ "What would most vex and worry _him_,
+ Dull, modeless Man, whose spark
+ Long (beside Woman's) burning dim,
+ Has now gone down in dark?
+ Ha! He'd kick up the _greatest_ shine
+ (If he _could_ kick) at--CRINOLINE.
+ Were he recalled to breath,
+ I'll have one last man-mocking spree
+ By _donning hooped skirts_. Victory!
+ _This_ takes all sting from Death!
+
+ "Go, Sun, while Fashion holds me up,
+ Swollen skirt and skimpy waist
+ Shall fill--male--sorrow's bitter cup,
+ And mortify--male--taste!
+ Go, tell the spheres that sweep through space,
+ Thou saw'st the last of EVE'S fair race,
+ In high ecstatic passion;
+ The darkening universe defy,
+ To quench her taste for Toggery,
+ Or shake her faith in Fashion!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "THE GOVERNESS WHO, MA' SAID, WOULDN'T DO."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A PLAINT FROM PARNASSUS.
+
+(_By an "Unrecommended" Resident._)
+
+ [Mr. GLADSTONE (replying to Mr. JOHNSTON, of Ballykilbeg) announced
+ that no recommendation had been submitted to Her MAJESTY upon the
+ subject of the succession to the office of Poet Laureate, and that
+ there was no immediate intention of submitting one.]
+
+ Glorious Apollo! This is wondrous hard!
+ Fancy JOHN BULL without Official Bard!
+ His plight is sad as that of the great men
+ Who lived, unmarked by the Poetic Pen,
+ Before great AGAMEMNON. Ah, my HORACE,
+ Britons are a Boeotian, heavy, slow race!
+ As for the "Statesman" who treats bards so shabbily,
+ 'Twill serve him right if thine "_illacrimabile_"
+ Applies to him. A Premier, but no Poet?
+ England, you are dishonoured, and don't know it.
+ Void of a _Sacer Vates_ to enshrine
+ In gorgeous trope and long-resounding line,
+ Thy Victories, and Weddings, Shows and Valour?
+ Parnassus shakes, the Muses pine in pallor.
+ When foreign princelings mate our sweet princesses,
+ When Rads of fleets and armies made sad messes,
+ And stand in need of verbal calcitration;
+ When--let's say ASHMEAD-BARTLETT--saves the nation
+ In the great name of glorious Saint Jingo;
+ When BULL gives toko or delivers stingo.
+ To Fuzzy-Wuzzy, or such foolish savages;
+ When our great guns commit most gallant ravages
+ Among the huts of some unhappy village,
+ Where naughty "niggers" have gone in for pillage;
+ When SOMEONE condescends to be high-born,
+ Or deigns to die, who now shall toot the horn,
+ Or twang the lyre, emitting verse divine,
+ For Fame and--say, about a pound per line?
+ I must submit. I have not been "submitted,"
+ But poetless JOHN BULL is to be pitied.
+ Of course self-praise is no "recommendation,"
+ (In GLADSTONE'S sense) or else, unhappy nation,
+ I, even I, could spare you natural worry at,
+ Your non-possession of a Poet-Laureate!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+IN A PICKWICKIAN SENSE.--When "a nate Irishman" (as the song has it) "meets
+with a friend," he incontinently "for love knocks him down," whether with a
+"sprig of shillelagh" or a "flower of speech," depends upon circumstances.
+In either case he "means no harm," or at any rate far less harm than the
+phlegmatic and matter-of-fact Saxon is apt to fancy. Probably, therefore,
+an "Irish Phrase Book," giving the real "meaning" of Hibernian rhetorical
+epithets, would prove a great peacemaker, in Parliament and out. Colonel
+SAUNDERSON, when he had recovered his temper, and with it his wit, "toned
+down" the provocative "murderous ruffian," into the inoffensive "excited
+politician." But what a pity it is that "excited politicians" so often
+string themselves up to (verbal) "ruffianism."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE LAST LIGHT.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ It scarce can be thou art the last
+ To fade before my watchful gaze;
+ So short the part that each one plays,
+ A flickering flame, and life is past.
+
+ And thou wert clothed in robe of snow,
+ A crimson veil around thy head,
+ And now thou liest, charred and dead,
+ Erstwhile with ruddy fire aglow.
+
+ I held thee in a fond embrace
+ To guard thee from the whistling wind;
+ And not another can I find
+ To comfort me and take thy place.
+
+ And though I lay aside my weeds,
+ Yet like a widow I bemoan;
+ Nor all the wealth the Indies own,
+ Could satisfy my present needs.
+
+ Thy spark has vanished from my sight,
+ Useless cigar, tobacco, pipe;
+ Of perfect misery the type,
+ A man without another light.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+EMPLOYMENT FOR THE UNEMPLOYED.--On Tuesday, in last week, the Unemployed
+had their hands full, when at Temple Avenue they unsuccessfully attempted
+to overcome the effective resistance of the Police. The Unemployed might
+have been better employed.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE STAR OF HOPE.
+
+(_A New Naval Ode._)
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ [The Royal Commission on Telegraphic Communication between Lighthouses
+ and Lightships and the Shore, have issued their first report
+ recommending immediate action in the more urgent cases. Dealing with
+ the same subject, on November 28, 1891, _Mr. Punch_ said:--
+
+ "_Punch_ pictures with prophetic pen, a brighter, cheerier page,
+ Which _must be turned_, and speedily."--_See "The Sweet Little
+ Cherub that Sits up Aloft_," (_Modern Version as it Must Be_) Vol.
+ ci., p. 254.
+
+ _Mr. Punch_ is mightily pleased that his injunction has been obeyed,
+ and that his prophecy is in process of fulfilment.]
+
+
+ I.
+
+ Ye Mariners of England,
+ Shipwrecked in our home seas,
+ How this will calm your wives' wild fears,
+ And give your stout hearts ease!
+ Hope's blue eyes gleam above the main,
+ Her lifted light will glow,
+ And sweep o'er the deep,
+ When the stormy winds do blow;
+ When the tempest rages loud and long,
+ And the stormy winds do blow.
+
+
+ II.
+
+ The spirit comfort gathers,
+ From schemes designed to save
+ Brave fellows, who have dared the deep,
+ Near home to find a grave.
+ See how o'er rock and quicksand fell,
+ The Electric ray doth glow,
+ And sweep o'er the deep,
+ While the stormy winds do blow;
+ While the tempest rages loud and long,
+ And the stormy winds do blow!
+
+
+ III.
+
+ BRITANNIA needs as bulwarks
+ Light-towers along the steep,
+ To save her gallant sons from graves
+ Near home, though on the deep.
+ With levin as from Jovian hand
+ She'll light the floods below,
+ As they roar on the shore,
+ When the stormy winds do blow;
+ When the tempest rages loud and long,
+ And the stormy winds do blow.
+
+
+ IV.
+
+ The Mariners of England
+ Glad eyes shall shoreward turn
+ In danger's night. Behold, brave hearts,
+ Where the Star of Hope doth burn!
+ Science, tired by Humanity,
+ Their grateful song shall flow
+ To the fame of your name,
+ When the storm has ceased to blow;
+ When the storm is o'er, and they're safe ashore,
+ Thanks to Hope's beacon-glow!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+_Q._ Are there any Lighthouses away from the Coast?--_A._ Certainly. _Q._
+Where?--_A._ In London. _Q._ Name them.--_A._ The Comedy, Toole's, the
+Opera Comique, and Strand. All Light-and-leading Houses.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: A SNUB.
+
+"FIFTY GUINEAS FOR A BOA AND A MUFF! THAT'S RATHER DEAR, ISN'T IT?"
+
+"WE DON'T KEEP CATSKIN, MADAM!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A METROPOLITAN MAYOR'S NEST.
+
+ ["The Common Council is stated to have appointed a 'Fighting
+ Committee' to oppose the Unification of London, and to take steps for
+ the formation of separate Municipalities in different parts of the
+ Metropolis."--_Daily Paper._]
+
+_Lord Mayor's Day._--Ah, if only we had not got Parliament to sanction the
+plan of splitting London up into distinct Municipalities, what a proud day
+this would be for me! As it is, must try and remember that I am _not_ LORD
+MAYOR of London at all, but only Mayor of the new Corporate Borough of
+Cripplegate Without, one of the half-dozen boroughs into which the old City
+has been divided.
+
+_The Show._--Well, thank goodness, we do keep _that_ up! All the 674 Mayors
+of all the different districts of London take part in it. That reminds me
+that I must put on my Civic robes, edged with imitation ermine, and my
+aluminium chain of office, and prepare to start. A little hitch to begin
+with. Mayors all assembled outside Guildhall. Mayor of South-South-West
+Hammersmith tries to join us. Nobody seems to know him. Very suspicious,
+especially as, on referring to official records, we find that there is no
+such borough as South-South-West Hammersmith! We tell him so. He replies,
+sulkily, that it was created last night by a Special Vote of the South-West
+Hammersmith Town Council, who found the work getting too much for them, and
+that, anyhow, "he intends to take part in the procession." Awkward--but we
+have to yield.
+
+_In the Streets._--The 675 Mayors don't inspire as much respect as I should
+like. Perhaps it is due to the fact that a regular scramble took place for
+seats in the old LORD MAYOR'S Coach, in the course of which the Mayor of
+Tottenham Court Road was badly pommeled by the Mayor of Battersea Rise, and
+the coach itself had one side knocked out of it. Also that we other Mayors
+have to follow on foot, and are repeatedly asked if we are a procession of
+the Unemployed!
+
+_At the Law Courts._--In the good old days Lord Chief Justice used to
+deliver a flowery harangue congratulating the Chief Magistrate on his
+elevation. But who _is_ the Chief Magistrate now? To-day a free fight among
+the Mayors to get first into the Court. In consequence, Chief Justice
+angrily orders Court to be cleared, and threatens to commit us for
+contempt! Yet surely in former days a Judge would have been imprisoned in
+the deepest dungeons of the Mansion House for much less.
+
+_Evening._--The hospitable custom of the Ministerial banquet still
+retained. Prime Minister adopts tactics of the Music Hall "Lion Comique,"
+and, after addressing a few genial words to the guests assembled at the
+table of the Mayor of West Ham, jumps into brougham, and appears a few
+minutes later at Mayor of Shadwell's banquet, and so on to Poplar and
+Whitechapel, and as many as he can crowd in. Other Ministers do the same.
+Still, not enough Cabinet Councillors to go round, and to-night I am
+horrified to find that the assistant Under-Secretary to the deputy Labour
+Commissioner had been chosen to reply to the toast of the health of the
+Ministry at _my_ banquet! Ichabod, indeed! [By the way, what a good name
+for a new Lord Mayor, "Ichabod," say, if knighted, "Sir THOMAS ICHABOD."
+Air to be played by band on his entering Guildhall, "Ichabody meet a body."
+But alas! these are dreams! Ichabod!] Yet, as the only building in which
+the Mayor of Cripplegate Without can entertain his guest is the fourth
+floor of an unused warehouse, perhaps we really don't deserve a higher
+official. Still, one can't help regretting that the City, in its natural
+dread of the so-called "Unification of London," persuaded the Government to
+agree to this sort of "Punification of London."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+TOAST FOR THE NEXT "QUEENSLAND MEAT" BANQUET.--"The Army, the Gravy, and
+the Preserved Forces!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE MAN FROM BLANKLEY'S.
+
+A STORY IN SCENES.
+
+ SCENE V.--_The Dining-room; walls distempered chocolate; gaselier with
+ opal-tinted globes; two cast-iron Cavaliers holding gas-lamps on the
+ mantel-piece. Oil-portrait, enlarged from photograph, of_ Mrs.
+ TIDMARSH, _over side-board; on other walls, engravings--"Belshazzar's
+ Feast," "The Wall of Wailing at Jerusalem," and_ DORE'S _"Christian
+ Martyrs." The guests have just sat down_; Lord STRATHSPORRAN _is
+ placed between_ Miss SEATON _and his hostess, and opposite_ Mr.
+ GILWATTLE.
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself_). Deuced quaint-looking people--wish they
+wouldn't all eat their soup at me! Why can't somebody say something? Wonder
+who's the Lady in black, all over big silver tears--like a foreign funeral.
+Don't feel equal to talking to MARJORY again till I've had some Sherry.
+(_After sipping it._) Wormwood, by Jove! Champagne will probably be
+syrup--touch old GILWATTLE up if he isn't careful--ah, _he_ jibs at the
+Sherry!
+
+_Uncle Gab._ Where the dickens did MONTY get this stuff, MARIA? Most
+'strordinary bitter taste!
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ (_to herself, in an agony_). I _knew_ that bottle of GWENNIE'S
+Quinine Wine had got down into the cellar _somehow_! (_Aloud._) Don't drink
+it, Uncle, please, if it isn't _quite_ what you like!
+
+_Uncle Gab._ I'll take his Lordship's opinion. What do _you_ think of this
+Sherry, my Lord? Don't you find it rather--eh?
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_observing his hostess frown at him imperiously_). Oh,
+excellent, Sir--very--er--mellow and agreeable!
+
+_Uncle Gab._ Ha--yes--now your Lordship mentions it, there's a sort of
+nuttiness about it.
+
+ [_He empties his glass._
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself_). There is--a _rotten_-nuttiness! I'm hanged
+if he hasn't bolted it! Wonderful old Johnny!
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ (_to him, in an under-tone_). You said _quite_ the right thing!
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_ambiguously_). Oh, not at all!
+
+ [_Turbot and lobster-sauce are taken round, and conversation becomes
+ general._
+
+_Conversational Scraps._ Assure you if I touch the smallest particle of
+lobster it instantly flies to my.... Yes, _alive_. A dear friend of mine
+positively had to leave her lodgings at the seaside--she was so disturbed
+by the screams of the lobsters being boiled in the back-kitchen.... I was
+reading only the other day that oysters' hearts continue to beat down to
+the very moment they are being assimilated.... _What_ they must suffer,
+poor dears! Couldn't there be a law that they should only be eaten under
+chloroform, or something?... I _never_ get tired of turbot--cod, now, I
+_don't_ care for, and salmon I _like_--but I can't digest--_why_, is more
+than I can tell you.--(&c.)
+
+[Illustration: "Don't make a fuss--you can take _one_ glass, as he wishes
+it."]
+
+_Miss Seaton._ (_to herself._) To see DOUGLAS here a--a _paid
+parasite_--and actually seeming to _enjoy_ his food--it's like some
+dreadful nightmare--I _can't_ believe it! But I'm glad he hasn't the face
+to speak to me!
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to_ SEAKALE _offering Hock._) If you please. (_To himself,
+after tasting._) Why, it's quite decent! I begin to feel up to having this
+out with MARJORY. (_Aloud._) Miss SEATON, isn't it rather ridiculous for
+two such old friends as we are to sit through dinner in deadly silence?
+Can't you bring yourself to talk to me? we shan't be overheard. You might
+tell me _why_ you think me such a ruffian--it would start us, at any rate!
+
+_Miss Seaton._ I don't _want_ to be started--and if you really don't know
+why I hate your coming here in this way, Lord STRATHSPORRAN, it's useless
+to explain!
+
+_Lord Strath._ Oh, we got as far as that upstairs, didn't we? And I may be
+very dense, but for the life of me I can't see yet why I shouldn't have
+come! Of course, I didn't know I was in for _this_ exactly, but, to tell
+you the truth, I'm by way of being here on business, and I didn't care much
+whether they were cheery or not, so long as I got what I _came_ for, don't
+you know!
+
+_Miss Seaton._ Of course, that is the main thing in your eyes--but I didn't
+think you would confess it!
+
+_Lord Strath._ Why, you know how keen I used to be about my Egyptian
+work--you remember the book on Hieroglyphs I always meant to write? I'm
+getting on with it, though of course my time's a good deal taken up just
+now. And, whether I get anything out of these people or not, I've met _you_
+again, MARJORY--I don't mind anything else!
+
+_Miss Seaton._ Don't remind me of--of what you used to be, and--and you are
+not to call me MARJORY any more. We have met--and I only hope and pray we
+may never meet again. Please don't talk any more!
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself._) That's a facer! I wonder if MARJORY'S
+quite--is this the effect of that infernal influenza?
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ (_to him in an under-tone_). You and Miss SEATON appear to be
+on very familiar terms. I really feel it my duty to ask you when and how
+you made the acquaintance of my daughter's governess.
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself_). The governess! That explains a lot. Poor
+little MARJORY! (_Aloud._) Really? I congratulate you. I had the honour of
+knowing Miss SEATON in Scotland a year or two ago, and this is the first
+time we have met since.
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ Indeed? That is _so far_ satisfactory. I hope you will
+understand that, so long as Miss SEATON is in my employment, I cannot allow
+her to--er--continue your acquaintanceship--it is not as if you were in a
+position----
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_with suppressed wrath._) Forgive me--but, as Miss SEATON
+shows no desire whatever to renew my acquaintance, I don't see that we need
+discuss my position, or hers either. And I must decline to do so.
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ (_crimsoning._) Oh, very _well_. I am not accustomed to be told
+what subjects I am to discuss at my own table, but (_scathingly_) no doubt
+your _position here_ gives you the right to be independent--ahoo!
+
+_Lord Strath._ I venture to think so. (_To himself._) Can't make this woman
+out--is she trying to be rude, or what?
+
+_Uncle Gab._ Hullo, your Lordship's got no Champagne! How's that? It's all
+_right_--"FIZZLER, '84," my Lord!
+
+_Lord Strath._ I daresay--but the fact is, I am strictly forbidden to touch
+it.
+
+_Uncle Gab._ Pooh!--if your Lordship will excuse the remark--_this_ won't
+do you any harm--comes out of my own cellar, so I _ought_ to know. (_To_
+SEAKALE.) Here, you, fill his Lordship's glass, d'ye hear?
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ (_in a rapid whisper._) Don't make a fuss--you can take _one_
+glass as he wishes it!
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself._) Can I though? If she imagines I'm going to
+poison myself to please her uncle! (SEAKALE _gives him half a glass, after
+receiving a signal from_ Mrs. T.) I suppose I must just----(_After
+tasting._) Why it's _dry_! Then why the deuce was I cautioned not to----?
+
+_Uncle Gab._ That's a fine wine, isn't it, my Lord? Not much of _that_ in
+the market nowadays, I can tell you!
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself._) Precious little _here_. (_Aloud._) So I
+should imagine, Sir.
+
+_Uncle Gab._ Your Lordship mustn't pass this _entree_. My niece's cook
+knows her business, I will say that for her.
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_as he helps himself._) I have already discovered that she
+is an artist.
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ (_in displeased surprise._) Then you know my cook _too_? An
+_artist_? and she seems such a _respectable_ person! Pray what sort of
+pictures does she paint?
+
+_Lord Strath._ Pictures? Oh, really I don't know--potboilers probably.
+
+ [Mrs. TID. _glares at him suspiciously_.
+
+_Conversational Scraps._ And when I got into the hall and saw them all
+sitting in a row with their faces blacked, I said "I'm sure _they_ can't be
+the Young Men's Christian Association!"... Hysteria? my poor dear wife is a
+dreadful sufferer from it--I've known her unable to sleep at all except
+with one foot curled round her neck!... (&c. &c.)
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself._) There's no doubt about it--this woman _is_
+trying to snub me--hardly brings herself to talk at all--and _then_ she's
+beastly rude! What did she ask me here _for_ if she can't be civil! If she
+wasn't my hostess--I'll try her once more, she may know something about
+antiquities--(_Aloud._) I suppose Mr. CARTOUCHE keeps his collection in a
+separate room? I was told he has some hunting scarabs of the Amenhoteps
+that I am very curious to see.
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ (_stiffly_). Mr. CARTOUCHE may keep all sorts of disagreeable
+pets, for anything _I_ know to the contrary.
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_to himself, in amazement_). Pets! I'm hanged if I let
+myself be snubbed like this! (_Aloud._) I'm afraid you have very little
+sympathy with his tastes?
+
+_Mrs. Tid._ Sympathy, indeed! I don't even know if he _has_ any tastes. I
+am not in the habit of troubling myself about my next-door neighbour's
+affairs.
+
+_Lord Strath._ (_with a gasp_). Your next-door----! (_He pulls himself
+together._) To be sure--of course not--stupid of me to ask! (_To himself._)
+Good Heavens!--these _aren't_ the CARTOUCHES! I'm _at the wrong
+dinner-party_--and this awful woman thinks I've done it on purpose! No
+wonder she's so confoundedly uncivil!... And MARJORY knows it, too, and
+won't speak to me! Perhaps they _all_ know it.... What on earth am I to
+do?... I feel such a fool!
+
+_Miss Seaton_ (_to herself_). How perfectly _ghastly_ DOUGLAS is looking!
+Didn't he _really_ know the CARTOUCHES lived next door?... Then--_oh_, what
+an idiot I've been! It's a mistake--he _doesn't_ come from BLANKLEY'S at
+all! I _must_ speak to him--I must tell him how----no, I _can't_--I forgot
+how horrid I've been to him! I should have to tell him I believed
+_that_--and I'd rather die! No, it's too late--it's too late now!
+
+ [Miss SEATON _and_ Lord STRATHSPORRAN _sit regarding the tablecloth
+ with downcast eyes, and expressions of the deepest gloom and
+ confusion_.
+
+(_End of Scene V._)
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Rhyme by a Rad.
+
+ [The question where the Liberal-Unionists shall sit has excited some
+ discussion.]
+
+ They have stolen the old Tory togs bit by bit,
+ And we wish they would openly don them.
+ However, it matters not much _where_ they sit,
+ For wherever it be we'll sit _on_ them!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"RAILWAY RATES."--Whatever question there may be on this subject, there can
+be none whatever as to the rates at which "The Bournemouth Express," "The
+Granville L. C. & D.," and "The Flying Dutchman," severally travel. Such
+rates are first rate.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+CON. FOR THE CONSOLATION OF THE MANY SUFFERERS FROM A CURRENT
+CATCH-WORD.--_Q._ What is the only thing that is _really_
+"up-to-date"?--_A._ A palm-tree.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+MEM. FOR MR. VIVIAN AND THE ROYALISTS.--The Last of the STUARTS,--STUART
+_KNILL_. There can be none after _Nil_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+DRAMATIC WITHOUT BEING STAGEY.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The plan, successfully inaugurated, and, within the last fortnight, still
+more successfully carried out by Sir DRURIOLANUS OPERATICUS BALMASCUS
+PANTOMIMICUS, of giving what may be called "unstagey representations" of
+popular Operas--that is, popular Operas sung and acted without the aid of
+scenes or properties (though "substitutes" may be permitted, as, for
+example, a chair with four legs complete would represent a horse, and a
+round table a tower); the singers, however, being in costume, may work an
+extensive "Transformation" Scene (which is quite in Sir DRURIO'S line) in
+the Dramatic and Operatic world, and may effect such a change as will save
+thousands to a Manager. Why not go a step further? Why have "costumes," or
+even "hand-properties"? Why not leave everything, except the perfection of
+the singing and the dramatic action, to the imagination of the audience?
+The prices of admission would be proportionately lowered, and the numbers
+admitted, in all probability, would be trebled, on which hypothesis a
+calculation may be based. What an exercise it would be for the imagination
+of the audience, were the Statue Scene from _Don Giovanni_ to be given with
+the Basso Profondo in evening dress, who represents the Stony Commendatore,
+seated astride a plank resting on tressels placed on a table which would
+have been substituted for the stone pedestal, while the Don or _Leporello_
+(it doesn't much matter which) sings his asides to the audience! Here is
+novelty, and a great attraction! It is returning to Elizabethan days, when
+Managers called a spade a spade, and then so labelled it to prevent
+mistakes.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SONG FROM "AS YOU LIKE IT" (_for the Member for East Galway, arranged by
+Colonel Saunderson, M.P._).--"What shall he have who shot the Deer?"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A BANK NOTE.--The most likely time for obtaining payment "in hard cash," is
+when the Money Market "hardens a little," as was the case, so _The Times_
+Money Article informed us, last Friday.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: AN EARLY PURITAN.
+
+_Bobby_ (_who sees his Mamma in Evening Dress for the first time, and
+doesn't like it_). "I'LL WRITE AND TELL PAPA!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"A STIFF JOB."
+
+_Grand Old Ploughman sings_:--
+
+ Speed the Plough! Ah, that's all mighty fine,
+ And I like the old saying's suggestion;
+ But--wi' a small crock such as mine,
+ The _speed_ may be matter o' question.
+ I've set my hand to 'un, o' course,
+ And munna look back, there's no doubt o' it:
+ Yet I wish I'd a handier horse
+ For the job, or that _I_ were well out o' it!
+
+ Stiff clay on a slaantin' hill-side,
+ Would tax a strong team. Steady, steady!
+ The little 'un goes a bit wide,
+ And seems to be shirkin' already.
+ To keep a straight furrow this go
+ Will strain the old ploughman's slack muscle;
+ And yet my new measters, I know,
+ Will expect I to keep on the bustle.
+
+ Stiff job for a little 'un? Yes!
+ If he doesn't pull straight there'll be bother,
+ Must make the best of 'un I guess,
+ This time, for I sha'an't get no other.
+ Gee up! I shall have a good try,
+ On that they may bet their last dollar.
+ It's do, poor old crook, now, or die!
+ But--I _must_ keep 'un oop to the collar!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"This room is very close!" said Mrs. R., settling herself down to her
+knitting, which her nephew had furtively unravelled. "Open the window, TOM,
+and let out the asphyxia."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+LINES ON THE AUTHOR OF THE
+LABOUR BUREAU.
+
+(_By a Labourer._)
+
+ 'Ooray for Mister MUNDELLA,
+ (Who's under Old GLADDY'S umbrella.)
+ For he's a jolly good fella,
+ And so say all of _hus_!
+ With a 'ip, 'ip, 'ip, 'ooray!
+ We hope the Bureau may pay.
+ Of course it might well have been better,
+ But then--it might have been _wus_!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+EMPHASIS GRATIA.--What a difference a slight emphasis makes in an ordinary
+sentence! The _D. T._ when giving, in advance, an account of a marriage to
+be solemnised the same afternoon, spoke thus concerning the costumes of the
+very youthful bridesmaids. "They will wear dresses of very pale blue silk,
+made up with ivory-hued lace." Now, had the second word been in italics, it
+would have read thus, "They _will_ wear," &c., as if everything had been
+done to prevent them from so arraying themselves, "but, in spite of all
+efforts, they _will_ wear dresses of very pale blue!" So obstinate of them!
+Such nice little ladies, too!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"The Liberal-Unionists have resolved to abstain from pairing during the
+present Session." So _The Times_. "Birds in their little nests agree,"
+quoth the eminent Dr. WATTS; but these Parliamentary Birds will belie their
+name of "Unionists" if they refuse to "pair."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+TELEGRAM FROM HAWAIANS TO AMERICAN PRESIDENT.--"WE would be U.S."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE ANTI----?
+
+ Your aid let me ask in a difficult task, _Mr. Punch_, with the greatest
+ submission;
+ To win for my name a well-merited fame was always my ardent ambition,
+ And clearly to-day the least difficult way is to send an appeal to the
+ papers,
+ To form an intrigue for creating a league against fashion-designers and
+ drapers.
+
+ Thereby shall I reap an advertisement cheap, and writers, with much
+ perseverance,
+ Will furnish as news their apocryphal views on my appetite, age, and
+ appearance;
+ They all will revere my conviction sincere, and loudly re-echo my
+ praises,
+ But the thing which, as yet, I'm unable to get, is a novel departure in
+ crazes
+
+ The idea shall we float that a swallow-tail coat is only adapted for
+ Vandals?
+ Write pamphlets, designed to enlighten mankind on the duty of taking to
+ sandals?
+ Would a hatred of hats, or crusade on cravats, secure us a sympathy
+ louder?
+ Or shall we assert it is time to revert to patches, knee-breeches, and
+ powder?
+
+ Meanwhile, your applause we invite for our Cause--you notice the capital
+ letter--
+ Subscriptions and fees you may send when you please to the writer, the
+ sooner the better.
+ But as to the theme of this notable scheme, I wait for a timely
+ suggestion;
+ Its worth's beyond doubt, but what it's about remains, for the present, a
+ question!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+The Bishop of CHESTER trembles. He is marked with the brand of "CAINE"!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "A STIFF JOB."
+
+W. E. G. (_to himself_). "SHALL HAVE TO KEEP HIM _UP TO THE COLLAR_!"
+(_Aloud._) "GEE UP!!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+CONVERSATIONAL HINTS FOR YOUNG SHOOTERS.
+
+HOSTS.
+
+"Dear Punch," writes a valued Correspondent, "I wish you'd tip me the wink
+how I'm to talk to my hosts. I'm a poor man, but not a poor shot. So I get
+asked about a good deal to different places, and as I'm not the sort that
+turns on the talking-tap very easily, I often get stuck up. Just as I've
+got fairly into the swim with one of them I leave him, and have to think of
+talk for quite a different kind of chap, and so on all through the season.
+For instance, last December I did three shoots in as many weeks. The first
+was with old CALLABY, the rich manufacturer, who's turned sportsman late in
+life. I thought he'd like a talk about bimetallism, so I sweated it up a
+bit, and started off with a burst as soon as I got a look in. All no go.
+Nothing would please him but to talk of birds, and rabbits, and hares, and
+farming, and crops, and who was going to be High Sheriff, and all that. So
+I got a little left at the first go off.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Next week I shot with BLOSSOM, another new friend, who's come into money
+lately, after knocking about all over America the greater part of his life.
+I tried him with the Chicago Exposition, and ranching as a business for
+younger sons; did it delicately, of course, and with any amount of
+deference, but he only looked at me blankly, and began talking about the
+Bank-rate. After that, I settled with myself I wouldn't talk to any more of
+them about things that they might be expected to feel an interest in.
+
+"In the following week I was due at WHICHELLO'S. He's been a perfect
+lunatic all his life for music. He got up an orchestra in his nursery,
+which came to smash because his younger brother filled all the wind
+instruments with soap-suds. Later on he was always scraping, or blowing, or
+thumping, scooting about from one concert to another, making expeditions to
+the shrine of WAGNER as he called it, composing songs, and symphonies, and
+operas, and Heaven only knows what besides. He came into the old place in
+Essex when his brother died, about a year ago, and this was his first
+pheasant-shoot. I thought to myself, 'If you're anything like these other
+Johnnies, it's no good pulling out the music-stop with you.' On the first
+morning he seemed a shade anxious at breakfast, and said he was going to
+try a new plan of beating his coverts, which it had given him a lot of
+trouble to arrange as he wanted. Off we went after breakfast. We had about
+half a mile to walk before we got to the first wood, and I kept puzzling my
+brains the whole way about this blessed new dodge of beating.
+
+"'Where are the beaters?' I said to WHICHELLO, when we got there, for devil
+a bit of one did I see.
+
+"'You'll find them out directly,' says WHICHELLO, looking sly and
+triumphant; 'just you stand here, and wait. You'll get some shooting, I
+warrant you;' and, with that, he posted the other guns at the far end of
+the covert, told me and another chap we were to walk outside, in line with
+the beaters, and walked off. Suddenly he gave a whistle. Then what do you
+think happened? I'll give you a hundred guesses, and you won't be on it.
+Out of a little planting, about fifty yards off the piece we were to shoot,
+came marching a troop of rustics, dressed as rustic beaters usually are,
+but each of them carrying, in place of the ordinary beater's stick, a
+musical instrument of some sort. They were headed by the keeper, who waved
+a kind of _baton_. When they got to our covert, they arranged themselves in
+line, and then, on a signal from WHICHELLO, crash, bang! they struck up the
+_Tannhaeuser March_, and disappeared into the wood.
+
+"'Line up, Trombone!' shouted the keeper--I heard his stentorian roar above
+the din--'Come, hurry along with the Bombardon; Ophicleide, you're too far
+in front. Keep it going, Clarinets. Now then, all together! What are you up
+to, Cymbals? Let 'em have it!' And thus they came banging and booming and
+blowing through the covert. The bassoon tripped into a thorn-bush, the
+big-drum rolled over the trunk of a tree and smashed his instrument, the
+hautboy threw his at an escaping rabbit, while the flute-man walked
+straight into a pool of water, and had to be pulled out by the triangle.
+But the rest of them got through somehow with that infernal idiot of a
+conducting keeper, still backing and twisting and waving like mad in the
+front. That was WHICHELLO'S idea of beating his coverts. 'Combining
+aesthetic pleasure with sporting pursuits,' he called it. Somehow we had
+managed to bring down a brace of pheasants, which, with three rabbits, made
+up our total, out of a covert which ought to have yielded ten times as
+many.
+
+"I daresay you won't believe this story, but it's true all the same. If you
+don't believe it, write to WHICHELLO himself. I never saw anyone half so
+pleased as that fool was. He had given up all his time to teaching his
+rustics music, with a view to this performance, and had shoved in, as one
+of his keepers, a sporting third violin from the Drury Lane orchestra. They
+said it was glorious, and congratulated one another all round, with as much
+enthusiasm as if they'd repelled a foreign invasion. On the next beat they
+played the _March in Scipio_, and after that came a _Pot-Pourri of Popular
+Melodies_, arranged by the keeper. They played a selection from _The
+Pirates of Penzance_ while we lunched, and took the big wood to the tunes
+of '_Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay_' and '_Up-rouse ye then, my merry, merry Men!_'
+'_Rule Britannia_' and '_Home, Sweet Home_,' played us back to the house. I
+never heard such a confounded Babel of brass and wood in all my life. A
+German band in a country town couldn't come near it. Curiously enough, we
+most of us got urgent letters by next morning's post, summoning us home at
+once to attend to business, or to be present at the death-beds of
+relatives. I thought you'd like to hear this story, old cock. If you like,
+you're very welcome to shove it in your shooting series. I've seen a lot of
+rum goes in my life, but this was the rummest of the lot. And don't forget
+to let me have a word or two about talking to one's host. I know what I
+thought of that maniac WHICHELLO, but I shouldn't have liked to say that to
+him.
+
+"Yours to a turn,
+A SPORTSMAN."
+
+For the present I must leave this striking letter to the judgment of my
+readers. Space fails me to deal with it adequately. On another occasion I
+may be able to set down some ideas on the difficult subject suggested by my
+polite Correspondent.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE APPRECIATION OF GOLD.--"Why all this fuss?" writes a Correspondent. "Is
+there a difficulty in finding persons who properly appreciate gold? If so,
+I, Sir, am not of that number. I will be happy to receive from the Bank any
+quantity of sovereigns; and, further, I will undertake to show and honestly
+express my appreciation of this generosity on the part of the Bank. Ah! I
+should like to possess any number of those 'promises of May.'
+
+"Yours,
+A MUNNIE GRUBBER."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
+
+EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
+
+_House of Commons, Tuesday, Jan. 31st._--"Members desiring to take their
+seats will please come to the Table."
+
+'Twas the voice of the SPEAKER; one could hear him declaim just as Big Ben
+tolled four o'clock this afternoon. House crowded in every part, throbbing
+with excitement; crowds everywhere. In Centre Hall some vainly hoping for
+impossible places; others content to see the men go by whose names they
+read in the papers. Outside Palace Yard multitude standing patiently for
+hours, happy if only they saw the tip of Mr. G.'s hat as he drove in at the
+gate, or imagined the buttons on the Squire of MALWOOD'S gaiters. Never, in
+recent times, such a rush on opening days.
+
+And Colonel SAUNDERSON, comfortably seated on Front Bench below Gangway, in
+choice companionship with Dr. TANNER, actually yawning!
+
+[Illustration: HISTORICAL SUBJECT.--S-nd-rs-n "finding the body
+of"--T-nn-r.]
+
+"All very well for you, TOBY, dear boy," he said, responsive to my polite
+stare. "You come down here leisurely in afternoon, and take your seat. I've
+been on war-path since before daybreak. Knew the wild Irishmen meant to
+open proceedings of Session by appropriating our seats. Have not served in
+Royal Irish Fusiliers for nothing. Session opened by Royal Commission at
+two o'clock this afternoon. Thought if I arrived on spot at seven in
+morning would be in moderately good time. Here before seven: place in utter
+darkness; found friendly policeman with bull's-eye light; tightened my
+belt; cocked my pistol; requisitioned Bobby and his lantern. You should
+have seen us groping our way into House; Bobby first, with bull's-eye
+lantern professionally flashing to right and left, under seats, into dark
+corners. Made straight for my old corner-seat below Gangway; something
+white gleaming on front bench; with supple turn of wrist Bobby brought
+flambeau to bear upon it; found it was TANNER--TANNER, hatless, coatless,
+without even a waistcoat on! You might have knocked me down with much less
+than bayonet-prod. 'Morning, Colonel,' says he. 'Been here all night?' I
+gasped. 'Oh, no,' says he; 'had cup of coffee at stall by Westminster
+Bridge, bought a few hats in the New Cut, and, you see, I've planted them
+out.' So he had, by Gad! Every corner-seat taken, and he prone in JEMMY
+LOWTHER'S. 'Weren't enough o' them,' TANNER said, with his sixpenny
+snigger; 'couldn't leave put our revered leaders, TIM HEALY and O'BRIEN,
+you know. So just took off my coat, flopped it down for TIM, hung the
+waist-coast on a knob, and there's WILLIAM O'BRIEN'S place secured for the
+night. Now, if you'd like a seat, you'll find one above the Gangway; or if
+you want to come and sit by me, here you are. I've got a necktie, a collar,
+and a pair of braces to spare; if you've any particular friends in your
+mind, why, we'll get seats for them.' No knowing what a fellow like TANNER
+would do in these circumstances. Even his trowsers not sacred. So made best
+of bad job, and here I am. At least, better off than JEMMY LOWTHER, evicted
+without compensation for disturbance."
+
+Conversation interrupted by loud cheer. Mr. G. marching with head erect,
+and swinging stride, to take the Oath and his seat. Necessary by Standing
+Orders that two Members shall accompany new Member on these occasions to
+certify identity and prevent guilty impersonation. It's a wise child that
+knows his own father, but HERBERT, walking on one side of Premier, with
+MARJORIBANKS on other, ready to testify. Clerk at table, thus assured all
+was right, administered Oath and then conducted Premier up to SPEAKER,
+presenting the new Member.
+
+"Mr. GLADSTONE, I presume," said SPEAKER, making a motion towards extending
+his hand.
+
+"Yes, Sir," said the new Member, nervously.
+
+"Dear me!" said the SPEAKER, now shaking hands. "I've often heard of you. I
+daresay you'll soon get accustomed to the place, and will, I hope, be
+comfortable." Mr. G. bowed, and retired to his seat. SPEAKER suffered
+succession of shocks as in same way were brought up and introduced to him,
+SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, JOHN MORLEY, CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN, the Count MUNDELLANI,
+GEORGE TREVELYAN, The Boy ASQUITH, and quite a host of new acquaintances.
+
+_Business done._--New Members took their seats. Address moved.
+
+_Thursday Night._--Something like flash of old times to-night. Of course,
+it came from Irish quarter, and it was SAUNDERSON who kindled the torch.
+Colonel presented himself early in sitting on corner bench below Gangway.
+This apparently reverted to possession of JEMMY LOWTHER. He lent it to
+Colonel for an hour, sitting on other side of him. How they secured the
+place is a mystery, darkened by temporary disappearance of TANNER. "Where
+is TANNER?" Members ask, looking, not without suspicion, on placid face and
+generally respectable appearance of JEMMY LOWTHER. Last seen, not
+exactly in company of JEMMY and the Colonel, rather in conflict for the
+corner-seat. LOWTHER has the seat; lends it to SAUNDERSON. But where is
+TANNER?
+
+"Oh, _he_'s all right," said LOWTHER, with forced smile, when JUSTIN
+MCCARTHY, with ill-feigned indifference, inquired after the lamb missing
+from his fold. "Bad sixpence, you know; always turns up," JEMMY added. But
+his merriment forced, and SAUNDERSON abruptly changed subject.
+
+Evidently a case for SHERLOCK HOLMES; must place it in his hands.
+
+Doubtless it was with object of diverting attention from a ghastly subject
+that SAUNDERSON led up to row alluded to. In course of remarks on release
+of Gweedore prisoners, he alluded to Father MCFADDEN as "a ruffian." Irish
+Members not used to language of that kind. Howled in pained indignation;
+the Colonel, astonished at his own moderation, varied the phrase by calling
+the respected P.P. "a murderous ruffian." Shouts of horror from compatriots
+closely massed behind. TIM HEALY, in particular, boiling with indignation
+at use of language of this character addressed to gentlemen from whom one
+had difference of opinion on public matters. Nothing would content them
+short of absolute and immediate withdrawal. Colonel declined to withdraw.
+Uproar rose in ungovernable fury. Every time Colonel opened his mouth to
+continue his remarks, an Irish Member (so to speak) jumped down his throat.
+
+Considerable proportion of Ministerial majority had disappeared in this
+fashion, when happy thought occurred to JOHN DILLON. Hotly moved that
+SAUNDERSON "be no longer heard." Considering he had not been heard for
+fully five minutes, this joke excellent. SPEAKER, however, wouldn't see it.
+COLONEL trumped the card by moving Adjournment of Debate. Mr. G.
+interposed, adjured SAUNDERSON to put end to scene by withdrawing
+expression objected to.
+
+Colonel, hitherto obdurate, found irresistible the stately appeal from
+Premier. "Certainly," said he, ever ready to oblige; "I will withdraw the
+words 'murderous ruffian,' and substitute the expression, excited
+politician." This accepted as perfectly satisfactory. Terms apparently
+synonymous; but the latter, on the whole, less irritating to susceptible
+nerves. Irish members round about fell on Colonel's neck; embraced him with
+tears; gently disengaging himself, he proceeded uninterrupted to the end of
+his address.
+
+"Capital title that," said GEORGE NEWNES, who always has eye to business.
+"Shall start a new Weekly; lead off with serial Novel by Colonel
+SAUNDERSON, entitled _The Murderous Ruffian; or, the Excited Politician_.
+Sure to take."
+
+All very well, this cleverly conceived diversion. But where is Dr. TANNER?
+_Business done._--Debate on Address.
+
+_Friday Night._--Still harping on Ireland. Began with row round issue of
+Writ for South Meath. ESMONDE, one of innumerable Whips present House
+possesses, says the business was his. "Then why didn't you do it?" asked
+NOLAN. "As you didn't seem disposed to move, I do." Nationalists want to
+get North Meath Election finished first; Parnellites don't. So ESMONDE is
+in no hurry to move Writ, and Colonel NOLAN is. Pretty, in these
+circumstances to hear NOLAN with his indignant inquiry, "Is the moving of
+Writs to be taken as an Election dodge?"
+
+After Ireland, Uganda. SAGE OF QUEEN ANNE'S GATE talked for hour and half.
+Later, rose to blandly explain that this was only half his speech; rest
+will be delivered when he brings question up again on Supplementary Vote.
+As Mr. G. says, this is fair notice, and every Member may determine for
+himself whether he will forego a portion of the promised treat. _Business
+done._--Talking.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE PARLIAMENTARY BILL MARKET, ST. STEPHENS.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+Everyone knows Mr. AUSTIN DOBSON'S dainty verse. In _Eighteenth Century
+Vignettes_ (CHATTO AND WINDUS) everyone has an opportunity, which he will
+do well to seize, to enjoy his equally charming prose. Mr. DOBSON is one of
+those enviable men who have time to read. He spends an appreciable portion
+of his days and nights not only with ADDISON, but with STEELE, PRIOR,
+JOHNSON, GOLDSMITH, and others, whom a generation that read newspapers and
+subscribe to MUDIE'S, know only by name. Mr. DOBSON is so omnivorous, that
+he has read right through JONAS HANWAY'S _Journal of Eight Days' Journey
+from Portsmouth to Kingston-upon-Thames_, the book which drew from JOHNSON
+the genial remark that HANWAY "had acquired some reputation by travelling
+abroad, but lost it all by travelling at home." A man that would read that,
+would read anything. Mr. DOBSON, happily, survived it, living to write a
+paper in which, within the limit of a few pages, we become thoroughly
+acquainted with JONAS, his travels in Persia, his discreet flirtations, his
+umbrella (the first under which man ever walked in the streets of London),
+his suit of rich dark brown, lined with ermine, his _chapeau bras_ with
+gold button, his gold-hilted sword, and his three pairs of stockings. JONAS
+always thought there was safety in numbers, whether odd or even. When he
+travelled, his "Partie" consisted of Mrs. D. and Mrs. O. When he dedicated
+a book (which Mr. DOBSON found, more than a hundred years later, in a
+second-hand book-shop in Holborn), he inscribed it to the "Twin Sisters,
+Miss ELIZABETH & Miss CAROLINE GRIGG." When he took his walks abroad, he
+wore three pairs of stockings. JONAS HANWAY, under Mr. DOBSON'S care, is
+unexpectedly delightful. With the same magic touch he brings upon the stage
+STEELE, FIELDING, GOLDSMITH, GRAY, HOGARTH'S SIGISMUNDA, and Dr. JOHNSON,
+who lives for us again in his garret in Gough Square. These _Vignettes_
+should be framed in the private room of every man and woman who loves
+books.
+
+(_Signed_), "_Non obstat_,"
+BARON DE B.-W.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Discovered in Drury Lane
+
+ _Near the new Baker Street Lodging House established by the County
+ Council._
+
+ I 'old it true wote'er befall;
+ I feel it when things go most cross;
+ Better to do a fi'penny doss,
+ Than never do a doss at all!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"WAITE FOR THE END."--On Friday last, at another Unemployed Meeting, a
+certain person, whose name is never mentioned in ears polite, "found
+mischief still," as wrote the immortal Dr. WATTS, "for idle hands to do,"
+and set one WAITE, whether a light or heavy weight is not stated, and one
+SULLIVAN, by the ears. It was a hand-to-hand fight, and WAITE was
+subsequently captured and brought before the Magistrate. _Mem._ for WAITE,
+in the words of a recently popular song, "_Never hit a Man of the name of
+Sullivan._"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+FALLEN FORTUNES.--Quoth _The Observer_ of a certain celebrity, "The family
+to which he belongs can trace an uninterrupted descent for a period of six
+centuries." What an awful "come-down"! _Quelle degringolade!_
+
+ * * * * *
+
+BETWEEN TWO GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS.--"What do you think of
+CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN'S choice of an assistant private secretary? Odd? eh?"
+"Not odd! _Strange._"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+PROVERB FOR MEMBERS OF PARLIAMENT WHO WISH TO SECURE SEATS.--"Two Hats are
+better than one."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: SELF-PRESERVATION IS THE FIRST LAW OF NATURE;
+
+OR, GETTING THE START OF CRINOLINE.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE INFANT'S GUIDE TO KNOWLEDGE.
+
+CONCERNING CASH.
+
+_Question._ What is cash?
+
+_Answer._ Cash may be described as comfort in the concrete.
+
+_Q._ Is it not sometimes called "the root of all evil"?
+
+_A._ Yes, by those who do not possess it.
+
+_Q._ Is it possible to live without cash?
+
+_A._ Certainly--upon credit.
+
+_Q._ Can you tell me what is credit?
+
+_A._ Credit is the motive power which induces persons who have cash, to
+part with some of it to those who have it not.
+
+_Q._ Can you give me an instance of credit?
+
+_A._ Certainly. A young man who is able to live at the rate of a thousand
+a-year, with an income not exceeding nothing a month, is a case of credit.
+
+_Q._ Would it be right to describe such a transaction "as much to his
+credit"?
+
+_A._ It would be more precise to say, "much by his credit;" although the
+former phrase would be accepted by a large class of the community as
+absolutely accurate.
+
+_Q._ What is bimetallism?
+
+_A._ Bimetallism is a subject that is frequently discussed by amateur
+financiers, after a good dinner, on the near approach of the coffee.
+
+_Q._ Can you give me your impression of the theory of bimetallism?
+
+_A._ My impression of bimetallism is the advisability of obtaining silver,
+if you cannot get gold.
+
+_Q._ What is the best way of securing gold?
+
+_A._ The safest way is to borrow it.
+
+_Q._ Can money be obtained in any other way?
+
+_A._ In the olden time it was gathered on Hounslow Heath and other deserted
+spots, by mounted horsemen wearing masks and carrying pistols.
+
+_Q._ What is the modern way of securing funds, on the same principles, but
+with smaller risk?
+
+_A._ By promoting Companies and other expedients known to the members of
+the Stock Exchange.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+QUEER QUERIES.
+
+FOREIGN CLERKS.--I should be grateful for any information as to where I
+could acquire a knowledge of French, German, Italian, Spanish, Arabic, and
+Russian, without leaving the neighbourhood of Camberwell New Road, and at a
+merely nominal cost. I find that, unless I know those languages, I have no
+chance of competing with German Clerks; whereas, if I did know them, I
+should be nearly sure of obtaining a berth in a London Firm at not less
+than fifteen shillings a week, rising, by half centuries, to fifteen and
+sixpence, and even to sixteen shillings. Also, what is the least amount of
+porridge (without milk or sugar), haricot beans, or lentil soup, that will
+preserve a person from starvation, if he takes nothing else, and works
+fourteen hours a day? I intend imitating my Teutonic rivals in frugality,
+as well as in languages; any dietetic hints (especially from Scotchmen),
+would therefore be welcomed by NO POLYGLOT.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A DELICATE REQUEST.--On Wednesday--that day in every week which is kept as
+a whole holiday in honour of _Mr. Punch_--the 8th Feb., there is to be "a
+meeting of Old Paulines" at Anderton's Hotel, when "_the attendance of all
+Old Paulines is requested_." Ahem! The aged representatives of the heroine
+of the _Lady of Lyons_ will not be attracted by the wording of this rather
+un-paulite announcement. Why was not the invitation extended to the old
+_Claude Melnottes_ as well? There must be a lot of them about.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+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 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL.
+104, FEBRUARY 11, 1893***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 21818.txt or 21818.zip *******
+
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