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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 01:46:04 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/21818-8.txt b/21818-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6f15541 --- /dev/null +++ b/21818-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1652 @@ +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 ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/8/1/21818 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <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> </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> </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—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;—</p> +<p>Fashion, I mourn thy parted sway,</p> +<p>Thou dim discrownéd Queen! To play</p> +<p class="i2">To empty box and stall;</p> +<p>To dress—when not another She</p> +<p>Exists to quicken rivalry—</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—who is <i>male</i>—shan't boast</p> +<p>The eclipse of Fashion. Such a pall</p> +<p>Shall not like Darkness cover all—</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—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—male—sorrow's bitter cup,</p> +<p class="i2">And mortify—male—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—let's say <span class="sc">Ashmead-Bartlett</span>—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—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>.—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>.—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:—</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."—<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?—<i>A.</i> Certainly. <i>Q.</i> Where?—<i>A.</i> +In London. <i>Q.</i> Name them.—<i>A.</i> The +Comedy, Toole's, the Opéra 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."—<i>Daily Paper.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Lord Mayor's Day.</i>—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>—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—but we have to yield.</p> + +<p><i>In the Streets.</i>—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>—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>—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>—"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>—<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—"Belshazzar's Feast," "The Wall of Wailing +at Jerusalem," and</i> <span class="sc">Doré'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—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 +<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—touch old +<span class="sc">Gilwattle</span> up if he isn't careful—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—eh?</p> + +<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>observing +his hostess +frown at him imperiously</i>). +Oh, excellent, +Sir—very—er—mellow +and agreeable!</p> + +<p><i>Uncle Gab.</i> Ha—yes—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—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—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—cod, now, I <i>don't</i> care for, and salmon +I <i>like</i>—but I can't digest—<i>why</i>, is more than I can tell you.—(&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—you can take one glass, as he wishes it." /></a><h4>"Don't make a fuss—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—a <i>paid parasite</i>—and +actually seeming to <i>enjoy</i> his food—it's like some dreadful +nightmare—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—it would start us, at any rate!</p> + +<p><i>Miss Seaton.</i> I don't <i>want</i> to be started—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—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—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>—I don't +mind anything +else!</p> + +<p><i>Miss Seaton.</i> +Don't remind me of—of +what you used +to be, and—and you +are not to call me +<span class="sc">Marjory</span> any more. +We have met—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—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—er—continue your acquaintanceship—it is not +as if you were in a position——</p> + +<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>with suppressed wrath.</i>) Forgive me—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—ahoo!</p> + +<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> I venture to think so. (<i>To himself.</i>) Can't make +this woman out—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>—"<span class="sc">Fizzler</span>, '84," my Lord!</p> + +<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> I daresay—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!—if your Lordship will excuse the remark—<i>this</i> +won't do you any harm—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—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——(<i>After tasting.</i>) Why it's <i>dry</i>! Then why the deuce +was I cautioned not to——?</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>entrée</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—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—I've +known her unable to sleep at all except with one foot curled round +her neck!... (&c. &c.)</p> + +<p><i>Lord Strath.</i> (<i>to himself.</i>) There's no doubt about it—this woman +<i>is</i> trying to snub me—hardly brings herself to talk at all—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—I'll try her once more, she may +know something about antiquities—(<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——! (<i>He pulls +himself together.</i>) To be sure—of course not—stupid of me to ask! +(<i>To himself.</i>) Good Heavens!—these <i>aren't</i> the <span class="sc">Cartouches</span>! I'm +<i>at the wrong dinner-party</i>—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—<i>oh</i>, what an idiot I've been! It's a mistake—he <i>doesn't</i> +come from <span class="sc">Blankley's</span> at all! I <i>must</i> speak to him—I must tell +him how——no, I <i>can't</i>—I forgot how horrid I've been to him! +I should have to tell him I believed <i>that</i>—and I'd rather die! No, +it's too late—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>."—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.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Con. for the Consolation of the many Sufferers from a +current Catch-word</span>.—<i>Q.</i> What is the only thing that is <i>really</i> +"up-to-date"?—<i>A.</i> A palm-tree.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Mem. for Mr. Vivian and the Royalists</span>.—The Last of the +<span class="sc">Stuarts</span>,—<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—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>).—"What shall he have +who shot the Deer?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">A Bank Note</span>.—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>:—</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—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—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—it might have been <i>wus</i>!</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Emphasis Gratiâ</span>.—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," &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>.—"WE would be U.S."</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE ANTI——?</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—you notice the capital letter—</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>bâton</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>Tannhäuser March</i>, +and disappeared into the wood.</p> + +<p>"'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 +<span class="sc">Whichello's</span> 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.</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>—"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>—"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>.—S-nd-rs-n "finding the body of"—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>—<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>—New Members took their seats. Address moved.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday Night.</i>—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>—Debate on Address.</p> + +<p><i>Friday Night.</i>—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>—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> & 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>."—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>—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 dégringolade!</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Between Two Government Officials.</span>—"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>—"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—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>—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>—On Wednesday—that day in every week +which is kept as a whole holiday in honour of <i>Mr. Punch</i>—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">☞</font>NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will +in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule +there will be no exception.</p> + +<p> </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> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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 ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/8/1/21818 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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