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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/22051-8.txt b/22051-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..15d9e19 --- /dev/null +++ b/22051-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1749 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98, +February 1, 1890, 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. 98, February 1, 1890 + + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis Burnand + +Release Date: July 12, 2007 [eBook #22051] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, +VOL. 98, FEBRUARY 1, 1890*** + + +E-text prepared by V. L. Simpson, Malcolm Farmer, 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 22051-h.htm or 22051-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/0/5/22051/22051-h/22051-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/0/5/22051/22051-h.zip) + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI + +VOL. 98 + +FEBRUARY 1, 1890 + + + + + + + + [Illustration] + +UNTILED; OR, THE MODERN ASMODEUS. + + "Très volontiers," repartit le démon. "Vous aimez les + tableaux changeans: je veux vous contenter." + + _Le Diable Boiteux._ + +XVIII. + + "'MRS. MÆCENAS!' So some would-be wit + Dubbed the fair dame. The title may not fit + With accurate completeness; + It soars some shades too high, this modish _mot_, + As 'Mrs. LYON-HUNTER' sinks too low; + Both nick-names fail in neatness. + + "The '_acu tetigisti_,' tribute rare, + Not oft is earned, in Fleet Street or Mayfair, + In these hot days of hurry. + _Salons_, Symposia, both have met their doom, + And wit, in the Victorian drawing-room, + Finds a fell foe in flurry." + + So spake the Shadow, with the covert sneer + That struck so coldly on the listening ear. + Soft was his speech, as muffled + By some chill atmosphere surcharged with snow, + In unemphatic accents, level, low, + Unhasting and unruffled. + + "Mrs. MÆCENAS, then, no HORACE finds + In all her muster of superior minds, + Her host of instant heroes? + That's hard!" I said. "She does not greatly care," + My guide rejoined. "Behold her seated there! + Her court's as full as NERO'S. + + "SENECA stands beside her. He's a prim, + Sententious sage. If she is bored by him, + The lady doth not show it. + But there's a furtive glancing of her eye + Toward the entry. There comes MARX M'KAY, + The Socialistic Poet. + + "His lyric theories mean utter smash + To all his hostess cares for. Crude and rash, + But musically 'precious.' + His passionate philippics against Wealth + Mammon's own daughters read, 'tis said, by stealth, + And vote them 'quite delicious!' + + "All that makes life worth living to the throng + Of worshippers who mob this Son of Song, + Money, Monopoly, Merriment, + He bans and blazes at in 'Diræ' dread; + But then they know his Muse is merely Red + In metrical experiment. + + "Well-dressed and well-to-do, the flaming Bard + Finds life in theory only harsh and hard. + His _chevelure_ looks shaggy, + But his black broad-cloth's glossy and well-brushed, + And he'd feel wretched if his tie were crushed, + His trousers slightly baggy. + + "KARL MARX in metre or LASSALLE in verse, + The vampire-horde of Capital he'll curse, + And praise the Proletariat; + But having thus delivered his bard-soul, + He finds it, practically, nice to loll + With DIVES in his chariot. + + "Lyrical Communism will not fright + Those 'Molochs of the Mart' this Son of Light + Keeps his poetic eye on. + 'Who takes a Singer _au grand sérieux_?' + Mrs. MÆCENAS asks. So he's on view, + Her Season's latest lion. + + "But not alone," I said. "If all this host + Are right authentic Leos, she must boast + As potent charm as CIRCE'S. + What is her wand? Is't wit, or wealth, or both?" + "Listen! That's MUMPS the mimic, nothing loth, + Rolling out VAMPER'S verses! + + "VAMPER looks on and smiles with veiled delight. + Boredom's best friends are fellows who recite. + None like, not many listen, + But all must make believe to stand about + And watch a man gesticulate and shout, + With eyes that glare and glisten. + + "'Tis hard indeed to hold in high esteem + The man who mouths out _Eugene Aram's Dream_ + In guttural tones and raucous. + All these have heard a hundred times before + Young Vox, the vain and ventriloquial bore + They'd fain despatch to Orcus. + + "So have they listened many and many a time + To little JINKS, the jerky comic mime, + And his facetious chatter. + But ill would fare Town's guest if he refused + For the five hundredth time to be 'amused' + By gush, or cockney patter. + + "HORACE'S _Piso_ were a pleasant chum + Compared with slangy laureates of the slum. + Hist! There's a tenor twitter, + A tremulous twangle of the minor strings. + 'Tis SERAPHIN, sleek Amateur, who sings, + 'Glide where the moonbeams glitter!' + + "'To puling girls that listen and adore + Your love-lorn chants and woful wailings pour!' + Sang HORACE to HERMOGENES. + SERAPHIN'S a TIGELLIUS, and his style + Would bring the bland Venusian's scornful smile + The scowl of sour DIOGENES. + + "'Twere 'breaking butterflies upon the wheel' + To let such fribbles feel the critic steel + With scalpel-like severity? + Granted! But will no pangs the victims urge + To abate that plague of bores, which is the scourge + Of social insincerity? + + "Wisdom is here, and Wit, Talent and Taste: + The latest wanderer from the Tropic Waste, + Sun-bronzed and care-lined, saunters + In cheery chat with mild-faced MIRABEL, + Who with Romance's wildest weirdest spell + Has witched your Mudie-haunters. + + "Colossal BAYARD, _beau-sabreur_, whose blade + A dozen desert spearmen faced and stayed, + Stoops his high-shoulder'd stature + To hear the twittering tones of Tiny TIM, + A midget, but the soul of whit and whim, + The genius of good-nature. + + "Boy-faced, but virile, vigorous, and a peer, + Lord MOSSMORE talks with VIOLET DE VERE, + The latest light of Fiction; + Steadily-rising statesman, season's star! + Calmly he hears, though Caste's keen instincts jar, + Her strained self-conscious diction. + + "MELDRUM, the modish _medico_, laughs low + At ruddy RASPER'S keenly-whispered _mot_-- + RASPER, a soul all strictures, + Holds the great world a field for sketchy chaff. + Many love not the man, but how they laugh + At his swift, scathing pictures! + + "Wits of all grades, and Talents of all sorts, + With rival beauties holding separate courts, + Find here parade, employment. + And yet, and yet, they all look cross, or tired; + Your cultured city has not yet acquired + The art of true enjoyment. + + "Strange! London's poor find pleasure far too dear, + But here, with wealth, and wit, and charm, and cheer, + All should go _so_ delightfully. + Time gay as in the Golden Age should fleet, + But the most brilliant stars in Babylon meet, + And--bore each other frightfully." + +(_To be continued._) + + * * * * * + +IN THE NAME OF CHARITY--GO TO PRISON! + +LAST week _Mr. Punch_ asked, "Oh, where, and oh where, is The Public +Prosecutor?" and he has received an answer. It appears that the official +has been recently engaged (his letter is dated the 30th of November) in +suppressing an "illegal scheme" to aid the funds of the North-West +London Hospital. It appears that, with a view to increasing the revenue +of that most deserving charity, it was arranged to treat some presents +that had been made to the Institution as "prizes," to be given to those +who sent donations to the hospital. There was to be a "drawing," which +was to be duly advertised in the daily papers. But this could not be +tolerated. Sir A. K. STEPHENSON, Solicitor to Her Majesty's Treasury, +after denouncing the scheme in the terms above set forth, informed the +Secretary of the Hospital, "that all persons concerned therein subjected +themselves to the penalties imposed by the Acts passed for the +suppression of illegal lotteries." Well, the law is the law, and it +would never do for _Mr. Punch_ to dispute the point with so learned a +gentleman as Sir A. K. STEPHENSON--the more especially as Sir A. K. S. +has just been patented a Q.C.--but if the Public Prosecutor can stop +"illegal schemes" for benefiting the sick, why can he not also deal with +the professional perjurers, suborners of witnesses, and fabricators of +false evidence? _Mr. Punch_ pauses for a reply, but is disinclined to +pause much longer! + + * * * * * + +OUR TURN NOW.--An excited paragraph in the morning papers announces that +"two Doctors of Vienna have succeeded in discovering the Influenza +_bacillus_ after a series of experiments in the Chemical and +Physiological Laboratory of the University." This is capital. Hitherto +the Influenza _bacillus_ has discovered _us_. Now the tables are turned, +and the question is, What shall we do with our prize? A little +transaction in boiling lead might not be bad to begin with. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: AN OLD FABLE. + + _Frog._ "I MEAN TO BE AS BIG AS YOU, ONE DAY, AND + SWALLOW YOU UP. BUST IF I DON'T!"] + + * * * * * + +A "FISH OUT OF WATER" AT GREENWICH. + +In a not very wise speech delivered while presiding at the opening of a +new series of lectures in connection with the Greenwich Branch of the +Society for the Extension of University Teaching, Lord WOLSELEY modestly +admitted "that whatever information he had acquired in life had been +acquired from the ordinary penny newspaper which he had read day by +day." No doubt this rather humiliating fact accounts for the florid +style of the proclamations "Our Only General" used to publish in Egypt +and elsewhere--proclamations at the time recognised as having the tone +of Astley's in the good old days of the _Battle of Waterloo_ and other +military melodramas. However, if it pleases Lord WOLSELEY to give +materials for a future biography, that is no one's concern but his own. +Unfortunately he touched upon another matter, about which he knows +evidently very little, if anything at all. His Lordship spoke in very +disrespectful terms of what he called the "Shilling Dreadful," which, he +declared (in this instance accurately enough), was "prized by many +people." Certainly the novelette is more popular than _The Soldier's +Pocket-book_, although both _brochures_ are equally works of +imagination. So it should be, considering that amongst the authors who +have produced it have been WILKIE COLLINS, HUGH CONWAY, F. ANSTEY, +ROBERT BUCHANAN, GRANT ALLEN, WALTER BESANT, RHODA BROUGHTON, and others +equally well known to fame. He concluded by remarking, "that if men of +all politics were to be shaken up in a bag, he believed there would be +very little difference between them." Quite true, if the bag were shaken +sufficiently long to complete the transformation--but it would be rather +a brutal experiment! + + * * * * * + +A PAGE FROM A DIARY. + +(_Purely Imaginary._) + +_First Week._--Now let me see what I have to do. I will leave out of +consideration my extra-parliamentary utterances--they will take care of +themselves. Shan't forget _them_. But other matters. Well, I have to +turn the works of my dear old friend ALF TENNYSON into Greek--of course, +omitting certain highly injudicious lines of a reactionary character. +Then I must read through the last edition of the _Encyclopædia +Britannica_. No skipping, but go through _every_ article thoroughly and +conscientiously. Then, of course, there is Grand Day at Gray's Inn. Must +_not_ forget that. Should like, above all things, to be present. Now let +me see that I have got the date all right. Yes, I remember. Grand Day, +Hilary Term. Falls on a Thursday. I shan't forget. + +_Second Week._--Translation of TENNYSON into Greek going on famously. +Not had time to cut down any trees, so busy have I been. Got as far as +"Foghorn" in _Encyclopædia Britannica_. New edition a very good one. +Glad I made up my mind to read it. Let me see, anything else? Why, to be +sure, Grand Day at Gray's Inn! Rather cut off my hand or even my head, +than forget _that_! Treasurer particularly nice man. So are all the +Benchers. So are all the Barristers and the Students. Excellent fellows, +all of them--yes, excellent. So must not forget Grand Day at Gray's Inn. +To be sure. Falls on a Thursday. + +_Third Week._--_A. T._ progressing nicely. Little difficulty about the +translation of the _Northern Farmer_. Rather awkward to give the proper +weight of a country dialect in Greek. However, it reads very well, +indeed! Think my dear old friend ALF will be pleased with it; he should +be, as it has given me a good deal of trouble. However, all's well that +ends well. _E. B._ also satisfactory. Got into the "D's." Article upon +the "Docks," scarcely exhaustive enough to please me, so have been +reading some other books upon the same subject. Forgotten nothing? No, +because I remember I have to dine at Gray's Inn. Yes, to be sure--23rd +of January. Grand Day. Hilary Term. Falls on a Thursday. Would not +forget it to save my election! Looking forward to the port. Excellent +port at Gray's Inn, I am told. Well, well, I shall be there! I don't +believe much in artificial memory, but to assist my recollection, I have +tied knots in all my pocket-handkerchiefs. Wouldn't forget the fixture +for a kingdom. Falls on a Thursday. + +_Fourth Week._--Finished Greek translation of TENNYSON'S Poems. Very +pleased with the result. Must send a copy to dear old ALF. Perhaps it +might suggest to him that it would be a graceful compliment in return to +translate all my speeches into Latin verse. Dear old friend! There is +not another man to whom I would entrust such a task with equal +heartiness. He would do it _so_ well. Must look up my earlier orations. +If ALF does _any_ of it, he should do it _all_. I do not believe in half +measures. Nearly finished the _E. B._ Article upon "Music" very +interesting. "Pigs" not so good; however "Wheel-barrows" excellent and +exhaustive. Rather angry to find knots in my handkerchiefs, &c., until I +suddenly remembered they were to remind me of my engagement to dine at +Gray's Inn. To be sure. Grand Day, Hilary Term. Falls on a Thursday. +Sure to be a delightful evening. Several of my young Irish friends are +members of the Society. I am looking forward to it _so_ much. Useful +things, knots. Remembered it at once! Tie them again. Also put _grey_ +wideawake hat over clock in my study. That will remind me of _Gray's_ +Inn. Falls on a Thursday! + +_Last Week._--There, now I can come to this book with a clear +conscience. Done everything. Greek translation of TENNYSON ready for +press. Finished letter "Z" last night, in final volume of the +_Encyclopædia Britannica_. Nothing omitted. Rather annoyed to find +someone has been tying knots in my handkerchief. Hate practical jokes! +Careless person, too, has been hanging my old grey wideawake on the +clock in my study. Rather a liberty! Don't like liberties. Always +courteous to _everybody_--consequently, expect _everybody_ to be +courteous to _me_! Still, can't help smiling. It _was_ a quaint idea to +hang my old wideawake on the clock in my study. I wonder what put such a +freak into the joker's head! Now let me look at the paper that has just +reached me from London. Dear me, "The Vacant Chair." That seems a good +title. And all about Gray's Inn! Now, I like Gray's Inn--a most +excellent place; everyone connected with it great friends of mine. And +writing of Gray's Inn, that reminds me--Good gracious! Why, last night +was Thursday, and I forgot to be there!!! + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: REFRESHMENTS IN VOGUE. + + "QUININE OR ANTIPYRINE, MY LADY?"] + + * * * * * + +MENU-BETTING. + +GENTLEMEN who bet on every event in life--who cut cards to decide +whether they shall go into the City by cab or by underground train, and +toss up to see whether they had better dine at home or at the Club, may +be interested to know of a new game of chance which can be played at +dinnertime, and in which ladies not only may but must take part. +"Betting on the _menu_" it is called; and it is done in this way. You +ask the lady next to you on the right--the one you have taken in to +dinner--permission to speculate as to what dishes she will choose from +among those inscribed on the _menu_; and you back your selection in a +series of bets either with the lady herself, or--if she happens not to +be what the French call "_sportive_"--with any gentleman who may be +willing to do business with you. Suppose the lady takes you? You make a +pencil-mark against each dish which, it seems to you, she will fancy; +and if you are right more often than you are wrong, you win--and the +lady does not pay you. In the contrary case you lose--and you pay the +lady. It need scarcely be said that you annotate your own copy of the +_menu_, and that the lady does not see it until the dinner is at an end. +The same principle is observed in betting with a gentleman in reference +to a lady's probable selection; but in this latter case neither of the +parties interested is at liberty to express any opinion, directly or +indirectly, as to the merits or demerits of the different dishes from +which the lady has to choose. Any member of the unfair sex may make sure +of winning from her antagonist--who will naturally have marked a certain +number of dishes--by simply abstaining from food throughout the dinner; +though the lady of the house might think this impolite. _Menu_-betting +is in any case an agreeable pastime for both sexes. It promotes +digestion; and any woman of moderate ability may make money by it. + + * * * * * + +"MORE LIGHT!"--The British Museum is, it appears, presently to be opened +at night, its (Elgin) marble halls and others being illuminated with the +electric light. Concurrently with this happy event Mr. LOUIS FAGAN, of +the Departments of Prints and Drawings, announces a course of three +popular lectures on the Treasures of the Museum, to be delivered next +month at the Steinway Hall. No one knows more about the Museum than Mr. +FAGAN, and, with the assistance of 170 photographic reproductions, +exhibited by oxyhydrogen light, he will teach the public a thing or two +about its foundation, progress, and present contents. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: PHENOMENAL. + + NEAR-SIGHTED MAN IN CHURCH, INSPECTING SHAM INSECT ON + LADY'S BONNET. HE IS SO EXCITED BY THE DISCOVERY, THAT + HE HURRIES OUT OF CHURCH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SERVICE, + IN ORDER TO WRITE TO THE PAPERS TO ANNOUNCE THE SUDDEN + APPEARANCE OF A MAGNIFICENT SPECIMEN OF THE LARGE + TORTOISE-SHELL BUTTERFLY ON OUR SHORES IN MID-JANUARY, + AS A PROOF OF THE MILDNESS OF THE CLIMATE.] + + * * * * * + +AMONG THE AMATEURS. + +No. IV.--RETROSPECT. + + SCENE--_A large Room, in which Guests are assembling + previous to a Supper in honour of a Great Actor, who is + about to leave for a tour to the United States. There + has been a magnificent farewell performance, in which + the Great Actor has surpassed himself. The public has + shown unparalleled enthusiasm; the G. A. has appeared + before the Curtain, and in a voice choked with emotion + has assured his audience that the one thing that + sustains him at this trying moment is the prospect of + seeing them all again when he returns._ + + TIME--11.45 P.M. _The Room is full of histrionic, + literary, and artistic Celebrities, with a few stray + Barristers and Doctors, who like to show publicly that + in spite of the arduous labours of their professions, + they can enjoy a mild dissipation as well as any man. + Most of the leading lights of the "Thespian + Perambulators,"_ BOLDERO, TIFFINGTON SPINKS, GUSHBY, + ANDREW JARP, _and_ HALL, _have come to prove by their + presence the sympathy of the Amateur Stage. On the last + night but one they had concluded their series of + performances at Blankbury. The Chairman of the Banquet + is a middle-aged Peer, who is a regular attendant at + first nights, and occupies a subordinate office in the + Ministry. The Guest of the Evening has not yet arrived. + A buzz of conversation fills the air. The Secretary of + the Banquet, an actor, is anxiously hurrying about with + a list, on which he ticks off names._ + +_The Secretary_ (_to_ BOLDERO). So glad all you fellows have been able +to come. I've put you pretty well together, as you wished. I wonder +where--oh! here he is at last. + + _Enter Great Actor. The Secretary rushes to him. + Hand-shakings and congratulations all round. The G. A. + moves up the room to where the Amateurs are standing._ + +_G. A._ (_shaking hands._) Ah! this is really friendly, TIFFINGTON, +really friendly. Were you in front to-night? + +_Tiffington._ Of course we were. We wouldn't have missed it for a +thousand pounds. It went first class. I thought your idea of stabbing +ALPHONSO from behind instead of in front, was a genuine inspiration. + +_G. A._ Approbation from Sir HUBERT. (_Bows and leaves quotation +unfinished_). But I've always played it like that, I think. + + [_Supper is announced. The Guests troop in to the + supper-room._ + +_Tiffington_ (_to_ JARP, _as they walk in_). He's wrong there. Never did +it like that before; and, after all, I'm not sure it is such an +improvement. But if you don't praise these fellows they never forgive +you. + +_Jarp._ Didn't he say anything about our show at Blankbury? I thought +you wrote to him about it. + +_Tiffington._ So I did; wrote specially to tell him how well things had +gone off. But you might just as well try to pump wine out of a +pillar-box, as expect a word of sympathy or encouragement from a +professional. They're all the same. + + [_They take their seats,_ TIFFINGTON _and_ JARP _on one + side of the table, the other three opposite them. The + supper begins._ + +_Friend of the G. A._ (_on_ TIFFINGTON's _right_). Splendid performance, +was it not? I never saw him in finer form in my life. It's quite +impossible to imagine anything more dignified and pathetic than his +death-scene. + +_Tiffington_ (_dubiously_). Hum! Yes. I'm not sure I should do it like +that quite. What do you say, GUSHBY? + +_Gushby._ It's not my idea at all. He spins it out far too long. I +should like to see you act that, TIFF. + +_Tiffington_ (_complacently_). Ah, well, so you might if things were +managed with common fairness. But (_bitterly_) you know well enough +there's a regular conspiracy against me. (_To Friend of G. A._) Now, of +course, you've read the notices of our performance of _Heads or Tails_? +Yes. I thought you had. Well, you _must_ have observed, that I don't get +more than two lines in any one of them, not a word more than two lines +upon my soul, and yet any fool knows that my part was the chief one. But +there you are. The beggars daren't abuse me. They know the public won't +stand that, so, just to spite me, they try to leave me out. But they're +very much mistaken if they think I care. Pooh! I snap my fingers at them +and their wretched conspiracy. + + [_Snaps them, and drinks moodily. The supper proceeds. + Conversation everywhere ranges over all kinds of + topics,--literature, art, the drama, the political + situation, the last Divorce Case. The Amateurs continue + to discuss themselves._ + +_Jarp_ (_to_ BOLDERO). Did you see that infamous notice in _The +Moonbeam_? Just like that rascal PENFOLD. He can't help showing his +jealousy, because we never asked him to join the Perambulators. + +_Boldero._ Yes. There you have it in a nutshell. I tell you what it is, +we shall have to exclude all critics from our show in future. + +_Tiffington._ Ah! that would punish them--and serve them right, too. Are +you going to sing to-night, HALL? + +_Hall_ (_with a sigh of resignation_). I suppose I shall have to. I told +BATTERDOWN I should be ready, if wanted. + +_Jarp._ Have you got anything new? + +_Hall._ Rather. Something particularly neat, I think. I call it "_The +Super at Supper_." It goes like this:-- + + [_Hums to his friends, who listen with rapt attention, + occasionally interchanging glances expressive of + enthusiastic admiration._ + + I once knew a Super, a festive soul, + Who quaffed champagne from a brimming bowl, + And all night long as he quaffed he sang, + "The Dukes may swing, and the Earls go hang, + And the Duchesses, 'drat 'em, may go and be blowed; + They've all been there, and they know the road-- + They're slaves, but the Super who sups is free-- + Oh! the Super's life is the life for me! + + _Chorus._ + + With a hey-diddle-diddle and fiddle-di-dee, + Oh! the supping Super's the man for me!" + +_Spinks, Boldero, Gushby, Jarp_ (_with enthusiasm_). My dear +fellow, that's immense. + +_Hill._ Yes, it's not bad. There are six verses, some of them even +better than that. + + [_The Chairman rises to propose the only toast of the + evening, "Success to the Great Actor who is about to + leave us for a short time." The usual + speech--reminiscent, anecdotic, prophetic of tremendous + triumphs, mildly humorous, pathetic._ + +_The Chairman_ (_concluding_). Therefore I bid you all charge your +glasses as full of wine as your hearts are full of sympathy, and join me +in wishing success to the Great Man, who is about to cull new laurels in +a foreign land. + + [_Roars of applause. Immense enthusiasm. The Great Actor + responds. He is moved to tears. He assures his friends, + that wherever he may go his heart will ever turn fondly + to them. Great cheering._ + +_Tiffington_ (_puffing his cigar_). Not so bad. I always said he could +speak better than he could act. + + [_The supper concludes._ HALL _has not been asked to + sing._ + +_Friend of Great Actor_ (_departing, to_ TIFFINGTON). It's been a +splendid evening, hasn't it? + +_Tiffington_ (_putting on his coat_). Yes. Pretty fair. (_To_ HALL.) +Sorry for you, old chap. But the song will keep. + +_Hall._ Keep? Oh, yes, it'll keep. I'll make it red-hot for the lot of +'em, and sing it at Blankbury next year. They won't like that, I rather +think. + +_Jarp._ No, by Gad! + + [_Exeunt omnes._ + + * * * * * + +THE SHREWING OF THE TAME. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH, + +MR. F. R. BENSON deserves commendation for a new idea. SHAKSPEARE has +been presented in many forms, but the notion of giving the Bard without +any acting to speak of is a novelty. And it is not quite certain that it +is a mistake. After all, a bad actor is an infliction, and it is better +to have gentlemen who have not spent centuries in mastering the +intricacies of their profession than a noisy personage who tears his +passions to atoms. The recent revivals of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ +and the _Taming of the Shrew_ at the Globe Theatre show how pleasing +Shakspearian representations may be made, even when their success +depends less upon elocution than scenic effect. The first of these plays +was simply delightful, with its fairy glades and "built-up" temples. The +last, too, is well off for "cloths," pleasingly representing Padua and +Verona. The performers (with the exception of Mr. STEPHEN PHILLIPS, who +speaks his lines with admirable effect) are not so noticeable. One of +the best-played parts in the piece is filled by an actor whose name does +not appear in the programme. He has nothing to do but to carry off +_Katherina_ (Mrs. F. R. BENSON), in Sc. 5., Act III., on his back. That +he looks like an ass while doing this goes without saying, but still he +is a valuable addition to the cast. From an announcement in the +programme, it appears that _Othello_, _Hamlet_, and the _Merchant of +Venice_ are shortly to be played. It seems at the first blush a +difficult task to pick out of Mr. BENSON'S present company a gentleman +quite suited to fill the title _rôles_ in the two first, and _Shylock_ +in the last. But, no doubt, the Lessee and Manager thinks the playing of +the characters of the Prince of Denmark and the Moor a matter of minor +importance. And, if he does, it may be argued, from the cordial +reception that has been accorded to _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ and the +_Taming of the Shrew_, that he has an excellent reason for his opinion. + + Believe me, yours truly, + ONE WHO IS EASILY PLEASED. + + * * * * * + +HOW TO MEET IT. + +SIR,--Having read all the letters that have appeared in the papers +suggesting a treatment for the prevailing epidemic, I have got, perhaps, +a little confused; but, on the whole, the following is the course, as +far as I can make out, that it would be prudent to pursue on finding +oneself threatened with any of the well-known symptoms. Immediately get +into a warm bath several degrees hotter than you can possibly bear it, +then get out again. Now go to bed, send for your family solicitor, and +make your will, meantime trying every half hour half a tumbler or so of +any patent medicine the advertisement of which occurs to you. Call in a +homoeopathic doctor, and give his system a turn for four-and-twenty +hours; then send for your own medical man. Take care that they do not +meet on the stairs. Take anything and everything he gives you for the +next eight-and-forty hours, interspersing his prescriptions with +frequent tumblers of hot and steaming ammoniated quinine-and-water, +getting down at the same time more beef tea, oysters, champagne, +muffins, mince-pies, oranges, nuts, and whiskey than, under ordinary +circumstances, you feel would be good for you. Continue the above +treatment for a couple of months. This is what I am going to try, if I +am down with it. As I said above, it is, if a little complicated, sure +to be all right, for I have got every item of it from a careful perusal +of those infallible guides and directors in all modern difficulties and +doubts, + + THE DAILY PAPERS. + + * * * * * + +KICKED! + +(_By the Foot of Clara Groomley._) + +CHAPTER II. + +I am still at Ryde, and it is still raining. On a day like this, a +little Ryde goes a great way. No Ryde without rain. _Telle est la vie._ +The young girls at Plumfields sit writing themes indoors instead of +taking their exercise in the open air. + + [Illustration] + +If this rain keeps on, I shall go to wild Assam again, or to the Goodwin +Sands. JAMES, the headwaiter, has told me thirteen different stories of +the haunted room of this hotel. None of them are amusing, or +interesting, or have anything to do with this tale. If I were writing a +shilling volume, I should put them in by way of padding. As it is, they +may go out. I too will go out. + +*** + +I have seen Mlle. DONNERWETTER. She was racing along on the pier, and I +was pacing along in the rear. I saw her and caught her up. I hastily +pressed all the valuables that I had with me--four postage-stamps and an +unserviceable watch-key--into her hand, and entreated her to give me an +interview with Miss SMITH. + +"Me muchee want to oblige English Sahib," she said, in her pulverised +English, "but ze Effendina--ze what you call 'ead-mistress, French lady +like myself--she no like it. She give me the _bottine_, if I let great +buckra massa talk to Fraulein SMEETS. But lookee--I give you straight +tip. Miss SMEETS is on ze pier now--you write note--slip it in her hand. +I wink ze eyebrow. I have a grand envy to oblige the English Signor. Ah! +Bismillah! _Quelle alouette!_" + +She is French, very French, but she has a kind heart. I hurriedly wrote +a few impassioned words on my left cuff, and folded it into a +three-cornered note. I dropped it down Miss SMEET'S neck as I found her +leaning over the side of the pier, and then ran away. I heard her +murmur, "Someone's mistaken me for the post-office." + +It is still raining, but I am quite happy. I have seen her again, and I +feel that she loves me. It was impossible to mistake the _tendresse_ +with which she murmured, "post-office." In my little note I requested +her to send a reply to this hotel. I have asked her to tell me plainly +what her income is, and to state on what conditions she will forfeit it. +Of course, she has no income now, as she is a minor, but I would wait a +year or two for a certainty. Shall I write her some verses--lines to a +minor, or thoughts on the Southampton quay? Perhaps I had better wait +until I obtain the statistics. Ah, here is JAMES, bringing me a note. It +must be from my darling--no, it is from Mademoiselle. + + DEAR SIR,--Miss SMITH am going away to Londres. A + telegram come for her, and I look over the shoulder. It + say, 'Poor TOMMY'S kicked! Come at once,' Miss SMITH + make the tears. + + Yours, + LUCIA DONNERWETTER. + +I must be off to London and get this matter traced. JAMES entreats me to +buy a new hat when I am away. He says it's bringing disgrace on the +hotel, and keeping away custom. What! Give up the hat which her dear +foot has kicked! Never! But, perhaps, I will have it ironed. The iron +has entered into my soul, and perhaps, it would be doing more good on my +hat. Yes, I will have it ironed. It does look a little limp. Ironed or +starched--what matter, when my darling is gone, and left me with no +information as to her income? + +(_To be concluded in Two more Chapters._) + + * * * * * + +"Venice Preserved" in The Haymarket. + +No--not OTWAY'S tragedy, and not under Mr. BEERBOHM TREE'S management, +but at the Gallery next door to the Theatre, and under the +superintendence of Mr. MCLEAN, you will find not only Venice, but +Florence, Prague, Heidelberg, Capri, Augsburg, Nuremburg, Innsbrück, and +a good many other picturesque places, preserved in about a hundred +water-colour drawings, by Mr. EDWARD H. BEARNE. If there were not so +many rivers and lagoons in the exhibition, it might be called the +"Bearnese Oberland." These pictures are well painted, and, during the +gruesome weather, a tiny tour round this sunny gallery is mighty +refreshing. + + * * * * * + + STUDY FOR THE PELICAN CLUB.--The "Logic and Principles + of Mill." + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: HAPPY THOUGHT. + + OUR ARTIST, FINDING HE CANNOT EXTERMINATE THE STREET + MUSICIANS, AND UNWILLING TO BE EXTERMINATED BY THEM, HAS + HIT UPON A PLAN FOR HARDENING HIMSELF--WITH THE HAPPIEST + RESULTS. JUST ONE WEEK OF THE DISCIPLINE REPRESENTED + ABOVE HAS MADE HIM ABSOLUTELY INVULNERABLE--HE THINKS, + FOR LIFE!] + + * * * * * + +"BRITONS NEVER WILL BE SLAVES!" + +(_A Scene from a Domestic Comedy._) + +MRS. BOB BULL was the wife of a British Workman, and she got up at four +o'clock in the morning. + +"Must rise early," she said, "to see that my man has his breakfast." + +So she lighted the fire, and put the kettle on to boil, and laid the +cloth, and swept out the rooms. Then down came BOB rather in a bad +humour, because he had been late over-night at the "Cock and Bottle," +detained (as he explained to his wife) by a discussion about the rights +of labour. + +"Of course," said Mrs. BULL; "and why shouldn't you, after a hard day's +work, enjoy yourself?" + +But BOB contended that he had not enjoyed himself, although he had +undoubtedly expended two shillings and eight-pence upon refreshment. +What BOB wanted to know was, why there was a button off his coat, and +why his waistcoat had not been properly mended. + +"Well, I was busy with the children's things," replied Mrs. BOB; "but I +will put all straight when you have gone to work." + +"Gone to work, indeed!" grumbled BOB. "Yes, it's I that does all the +work, and worse luck to it!" + +The moment BOB was out of the house, Mrs. BOB got the children up and +dressed them, and gave them their breakfasts and sent them off to +school. When they were gone, she "tidied up" and dressed the baby. Then +she did one of "the bits of washing," that came from a family in whose +service she had been before she married BOB, and that family's +connection. And this occupied her fully, what with soaking, and mangling +and ironing, until it was time to carry BOB his dinner. In the pauses of +her work she had been able to cook it, and it was quite ready to go with +her when she was prepared to take it. It was a long walk (in the rain) +to BOB'S place of work, and it seemed the longer because she could not +leave the baby. But both got there, and the dinner, without any +accident. And then Mrs. BOB hurried back to give the children, now home +from school, _their_ midday meal. And Mrs. BOB had plenty of work to do +afterwards. She had to mend, and to scrub, and to sweep, and to sew. She +was not off her legs for a moment, and had she been a weaker woman, she +would have been thoroughly done up. Then came the children's evening +toilette and the cooking of BOB'S supper. Her lord and master entered in +due course, and she helped him off with his coat, and (when he had +finished his food) lighted his pipe for him. + +"Mended my clothes?" asked BOB. + +"Of course I have." + +"And washed my linen, and druv nails into my boots, and baked the bread, +and pickled the walnuts, and all the rest of it?" + +"Yes, BOB, I have done them all--every one of them." + +This put BOB into a better temper, and he took out an evening paper, and +began to read it. + +"I say," said he; "what do you think! They have got white slaves in +Turkey!" + +"You don't say so, BOB!" replied Mrs. BOB, lost in amazement. Then she +said as she paused tidying up the room, "Ah! they wouldn't allow +anything of _that_ sort in England!--would they, BOB?" + +And BOB, smoking his pipe, and sprawling before the fire, agreed with +her! + + * * * * * + +The Riviera in Bond Street. + +Why take a long journey and spend a lot of money, when the Riviera is +within a shilling cab-fare? Why not apply at 148, New Bond Street, and +obtain one of the Fine Art Society's "excursion _coupons_," and get +yourself personally conducted by Mr. JOHN FULLEYLOVE to Nice, Monte +Carlo, Genoa, and all sorts of delightful places? Take _Mr. Punch's_ +advice, and go there at once! And, when you have exhausted the Riviera, +you have another treat in a series of well-nigh seventy drawings of +Cambridge. These are skilfully limned, with scrupulous architectural +accuracy and charming pictorial effect, and will give great delight to +Cantabrians, old and young. They are worthy to take their place beside +the excellent series of pictures of Oxford which Mr. FULLEYLOVE +exhibited some time ago. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: THE FOREIGN FOX. + + (_With apologies to Æsop._)] + + * * * * * + + [Illustration] + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +"Bring me my books!" said the Baron, not for the first time. But on this +occasion the Baron was a prisoner in bed, and likely to remain so for +many days. Consequently, he required amusement. He had heard of a book, +called _Three Men in a Boat_, by Mr. JEROME K. JEROME, some of whose +observations, in a collection of papers entitled _Stage-land_, had +caused him to laugh several times, and to smile frequently, for the +subject has not been so well touched since GILBERT ABBOTT À BECKETT +wrote his inimitable _Quizziology of the Drama_, which for genuine +drollery has never been surpassed. Anticipating, then, some +side-splitters from _Three Men in a Boat_, the Baron sent for the work. +He opened it with a chuckle, which, instead of developing itself into a +guffaw and then into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, gradually +subsided altogether, his smile vanished, and an expression of weariness +came over the Baron's face, as after heroically plodding through five +chapters he laid the book down, and sighed aloud, "Well, I'm hanged if I +see where the fun of this is." The Baron may be wrong, and the humour of +this book, which seems to him to consist in weak imitations of American +fun, and in conversations garnished with such phrases as "bally idiot," +"bally tent," "doing a mouch," "boss the job," "put a pipe in his mouth, +and spread himself over a chair," "land him with a frying-pan," +"fat-headed chunk," "who the thunder" and so forth--a style the Baron +believes to have been introduced from Yankee-land, and patented here by +the _Sporting Times_ and its imitators,--interspersed with plentiful +allusions to whiskey-drinking, may not be, as it is not, to his +particular taste; and yet, for all that, it may be marvellously funny. +So the Baron requested an admirer of this book to pick out the gems, and +read them aloud to him. But even the admirer was compelled to own that +the gems did not sparkle so brilliantly as he had at first thought. +"Yet," observed the admirer, "it has had a big sale." "_Three Men in a +Boat_ ought to have," quoth the Baron, cheerily, and then he called +aloud, "Bring me _Pickwick_!" He commenced at the Review, and the first +meeting of _Mr. Pickwick_ with the Wardle family. Within five minutes +the Baron was shaking with spasmodic laughter, and CHARLES DICKENS'S +drollery was as irresistible as ever. Of course the Baron does not for +one moment mean to be so unfair to the _Three Men in a Boat_ as to +institute a comparison between it and the immortal _Pickwick_, but he +has heard some young gentlemen, quite of the modern school, who profess +themselves intensely amused by such works as this, and as the two books +by the author of _Through Green Glasses_, and yet allow that they could +not find anything to laugh at in _Pickwick_. They did not object to +_Pickwick_, as ladies very often do, that there is so much eating and +drinking in it. "No," says the Baron, in bed, "Give me my _Pickwick_, +and, after him, for a soothing and pleasant companion, give me +WASHINGTON IRVING. When I'm in another sort of humour, bring me +THACKERAY. For rollicking Irish life, give me LEVER. But as to +youth-about-town life of the present day, I do not know of any +second-class humorist who approaches within measurable distance of the +author of _The Pottleton Legacy_, in the past." So far the Baron. And +now "The Co." speaks:-- + +_A Tour in a Phaëton_, by J. J. HISSEY, is an interesting account of a +driving trip through the Eastern Counties. It abounds in hisseytorical +research; we are taken to all kinds of out-of-the-way and picturesque +places, of which the Author gives us graphic pictures with pencil as +well as pen. A fresher title to the work might have been devised, as the +present one bears a striking likeness to Mr. BLACK'S _Adventures of a +Phaëton_,--who, by the way, was the first to render driving tours +popular. The volume abounds in poetical quotations. The authority, +however, is seldom given, and inverted commas are conspicuous by their +absence. It can hardly be imagined that all this poetry is by the writer +of the book. In one instance he quotes a well-known verse by +ASHBY-STERRY, without acknowledgment, in which, for some inscrutable +reason, he has introduced a rugged final line which effectually mars the +harmony of the original stanza. + +Those who prefer Scotch broth well peppered to Butter-Scotch, should +read _Our Journey to the Hebrides_, by Mr. and Mrs. PENNELL. They seem +to have gone out of the beaten track in their tour, which is pleasant, +and their views of Scotland, though they may cause controversy, are +novel, and at the same time indescribably refreshing. As to the views of +Scotland chronicled by Mr. PENNELL'S clever and facile pencil, they are +full of thought, elaborate detail and wondrous originality. There are +some forty of these, all remarkable for their everlasting variety and +high artistic excellence. + +_Dr. Hermione_ (_Blackwood_) is rather an idyl than a novel, and would +have done better still if it had been cast in the form of a comedy. The +still anonymous author who followed up _Zit and Zoë_ by _Lady Bluebeard_ +possesses the gift, rare among novelists, of writing sparkling dialogue. +The quickly changing scenes in the last chapter of _Dr. Hermione_, with +its sprightly chatter would serve the poor player almost as it stands. +It is not too late to think about the comedy. In the meanwhile the novel +does very well, and if he had made his story a book for the play, we +should have missed many dainty descriptions of scenery. Nothing is so +good as his description of the Lake District in Autumn, unless it be his +pictures of the surroundings of the Nile as it + + Flows through hushed old Egypt and its sands, + Like some grave mighty thought, threading a dream. + +_Some Places of Note in England_ (DOWDESWELLS) have been deftly noted by +a notable artist, namely, BIRKET FOSTER. From the "places of note," he +has evolved some of the most delicate of harmonies. Whether he gives us +a Canterbury _cantata_, a Richmond _rondo_, a Stratford symphony, a +Lambeth _lied_, or a Tilbury _toccata_ we are equally delighted with his +choice of _motivo_ and his brilliancy of execution. In this volume we +have five-and-twenty pictures, admirably reproduced in the highest style +of lithography. Mr. BIRKET FOSTER has been before the public for many +years--he appeared, if we mistake not, in the early numbers of the +_Illustrated News_: his work has been constant, and his pictures +countless ever since, and yet, in the present volume, we find him better +than ever. + +_Sporting Celebrities._ The first number of this new monthly contains +two excellent portraits by M. WALERY. One is of the Duke of BEAUFORT, +the other of Mr. CHOLMONDELEY PENNELL. They are accompanied by crisp +well-written biographical notices. The two portraits are well worth the +price charged for the Magazine. A couple of good photographs for a +shilling, cannot be considered dear. In addition to this, there are +twenty pages of letterpress--so altogether it is a splendid +shillingsworth. BARON DE BOOK-WORMS & CO. + + * * * * * + +ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. + +INSANITARY DUST-BINS.--That your servants should have thrown half a +lobster, several potted meat-tins, an uneatable rabbit-pie, and all the +vegetable refuse of your household, into your dust-bin, and that it +should not have been "attended to" for upwards of two months, is quite +sufficient to account for the intolerable odour of which you and all +your neighbours on that side of the street have had reason to complain; +but, as you seem to think nothing but an epidemic fever, caused by the +nuisance, will rouse the Authorities, you might, by throwing in a pound +or two of phosphate of lime, the same quantity of copper shavings, and a +gallon or so of nitric acid, as you suggest, create such an intolerable +stench, that something would have to be done, and that without delay, to +preserve your entire neighbourhood from a visitation of the plague. Try +it, by all means. In the meantime have a notice, as you propose, put in +your kitchen window, to the effect that a champagne luncheon, and +half-a-crown a head, will be provided for the dustmen if they will only +call. Failing this, you might take the steps you seriously contemplate, +with a view to marrying into the dust-contractor's family. This, +perhaps, coupled with a series of urgent letters to the _Times_, would +be your wisest course. But, in the present unsatisfactory state of the +law, it is difficult to know how to advise you for the best. Your idea, +if the worst comes to the worst, and you cannot get the Vestry to attend +to it, of blowing up your dust-bin yourself with gunpowder, you might +resort to as a last expedient; but, as you seem to think it might bring +down your portico, and possibly the whole front of your house as well, +we should advise you not to put it into execution till _quite_ assured +that your attempts to get your dust-bin emptied by some less violent +means have all hopelessly failed. Anyhow, try the copper shavings and +nitric acid first. We think you will find, if steadily persevered in, +that they will, coupled, possibly, with some legal proceedings, settle +the matter for you. + + * * * * * + +MORE GLORY.--The fall of a fragment of a chandelier has shed an +additional lustre--or a portion of a lustre--on the _Brav' Général_. + + * * * * * + + QUITE THE FIRST BRIDGE.--The Forth Bridge. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: THE GRAND OLD UNDERGRAD. + + MR. GLADSTONE'S VISIT TO OXFORD.--It has been stated in + several papers that Mr. GLADSTONE intends to reside at + All Souls' College, Oxford, of which he is an Honorary + Fellow, from January 30, till the meeting of Parliament, + on February 11. Mr. GLADSTONE, who, we believe, is going + up for quiet study, will occupy a set of College rooms.] + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: "ANNALS OF A QUIET PARISH." + + _The Vicar's Wife_ (_to Country Tradesman_). "NOW, + HOSKINS, AFTER SO MANY YEARS OF OUR LIBERAL PATRONAGE, + IT WAS REALLY TOO BAD OF YOU TO SEND US SUCH A + GLOBE--CRACKED FROM TOP TO BOTTOM----!" + + _Vicar_ (_calling from the Study-door at end of + passage_). "MY DEAR, DID YOU RECOLLECT TO SEND FOR + HOSKINS ABOUT THE GLOBE YOU HAD THE LITTLE ACCIDENT WITH + LAST WEEK!"] + + * * * * * + +AN UNSCIENTIFIC DIALOGUE. + +(_On a highly Uninteresting Topic._) + +_First Aspiring Political Economist_ (_picking his way cautiously_). +What the Bimetallists maintain is this: that by fixing an artificial +ratio between the relative values of gold and silver, you somehow (_a +little vaguely_) keep up prices; and so, at least,--so I fancy,--assist +the circulation of capital. At all events, that is what I take M. EMILE +DE LAVELEYE to mean. (_Tentatively._) You see that, don't you? + +_Second Aspiring Political Economist._ Not a bit of it. Why, EMILE DE +LAVELEYE is an ass. (_Emphatically._) GIFFEN says so. And you can't have +a higher authority than GIFFEN (_clinching the matter_). Why, he's Hon. +Assistant Deputy Secretary to the Board of Commerce; (_with animation_) +in fact, he says that all Bimetallists are hopeless lunatics, and, in my +opinion, he's about right. + +_Third Aspiring Political Economist._ I don't see that at all. But if +you are going to settle the matter by merely quoting names, what have +you got to say to FOXWELL, the London Professor? He's a Bimetallist, and +no mistake. + +_Second Aspiring Political Economist._ "Got to say?" Why, ask LEVIN of +Cambridge what he thinks of him. LEVIN backs up GIFFEN in every word he +says, and I agree with both of them. How can you have two standards? +(_Explicitly._) The thing is preposterous. + +_First Aspiring Political Economist._ It is all very well to lay down +the law in that fashion, but it will not dispose of facts. You may quote +GIFFEN, or LEVIN, or anyone you like, but they will not be able to do +away with the circumstance, that prices are regulated by the quantity of +money in circulation (_with a little hesitation_); at least, that is +what I understand the other side to maintain. + +_Second Aspiring Political Economist._ Sheer nonsense. How does the +quantity of money you possess affect the price you pay for a commodity? +The fact of your having twenty sovereigns in your purse won't make your +butcher charge you an extra halfpenny a pound for a leg of mutton! That +must be clear to any fool! + +_First Aspiring Political Economist._ But you don't understand. It's +numbers that do it. They mean, if thirty millions of people, each have +twenty sovereigns a-piece in their purses (_doubtfully_), _then_, I +suppose, the butchers would raise the price of their meat. At least, +that's what I fancy they imply when they talk of an "artificial +currency" raising prices (_with some vagueness_), or is it "artificial +prices" creating an increased currency. I couldn't _quite_ follow them +in this. But I am sure, whichever of the two views was expressed by M. +EMILE DE LAVELEYE, that one had, no doubt, a great deal of sound +argument to back it. + +_Third Aspiring Political Economist._ I think you miss the point. Take +an illustration. Say you arrive at a cannibal island with ten thousand +complete sets of evening dress clothes, and that another ship, just +before the arrival of yours, has taken the last ten-pound-note off the +island, how, supposing there was to be a native rush to obtain one of +your suits, would the absence of any money to pay for them affect their +market value? I mayn't have got it quite correctly, but this, or +something like it, is one of the cases that GIFFEN brings forward to +prove his point. The matter, however, appears to me to be a little +complicated. + +_Second Aspiring Political Economist._ Not in the least. It proves the +humbug of the Bimetallic position up to the hilt. Of course, you must +assume, that the cannibals desire to dress in evening clothes. I confess +that has to be considered, and then the question lies in a nutshell. +There can't be two opinions about it. + +_First Aspiring Political Economist._ Well, to me, though, of course, I +am willing to admit there _may_ be something in it, I can't say that the +matter is, at first sight, convincingly clear. (_Candidly._) My chief +difficulty is, I confess, to arrive at any definite conclusion with +myself, as to what "Bimetallism" really means, and what it does not; and +I own I feel still vague as to the two questions of the influence of the +quantity of money on prices, or the price of a commodity on the value of +money respectively, and, though I carefully read all that appears in the +daily papers on the subject, I am compelled to own that I do not seem to +be nearer a solution of the perplexing difficulty. However, it is, no +doubt, a highly absorbing, if not a very useful, subject for +investigation. + + [_Left investigating it as Curtain falls._ + + * * * * * + + [Illustration] + +MR. PUNCH'S MORAL MUSIC-HALL DRAMAS. + +No. IV. + +Our present example is pure tragedy of the most ambitious kind, and is, +perhaps, a little in advance of the taste of a Music-hall audience of +the present day. When the fusion between the Theatres and the +Music-Halls is complete--when Miss BESSIE BELLWOOD sings "_What Cheer, +'Ria?_" at the Lyceum, and Mr. HENRY IRVING gives his compressed version +of _Hamlet_ at the Trocadero; when there is a general levelling-up of +culture, and removal of prejudice--then, and not till then, will this +powerful little play meet with the appreciation which is its due. The +main idea is suggested by the Misses TAYLOR'S well-known poem, _The +Pin_, though the dramatist has gone further than the poetess in working +out the notion of Nemesis. + +THE FATAL PIN.--A TRAGEDY. + +DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. + +_Emily Heedless._ By either Miss VESTA TILLEY or Mrs. BERNARD BEERE. + +_Peter Paragon._ Mr. FORBES ROBERTSON or Mr. ARTHUR ROBERTS (only he +mustn't sing "_The Good Young Man who Died_"). + +_First and Second Bridesmaids._ Miss MAUDE MILLETT and Miss ANNIE +HUGHES. + + SCENE.--EMILY'S _Boudoir, sumptuously furnished with a + screen and sofa,_ C. _Door,_ R., _leading to_ EMILY'S + _Bed-chamber. Door,_ L. EMILY _discovered in loose + wrapper, and reclining in uncomfortable position on + sofa._ + +_Emily_ (_dreamily_). This day do I become the envied bride of PETER, +justly surnamed PARAGON; and much I wonder what in me he found (he, who +Perfection so personifies) that he could condescend an eye to cast on +faulty, feather-headed EMILY! How solemn is the stillness all around me! +(_A loud bang is heard behind screen._) Methought I heard the dropping +of a pin!--perhaps I should arise and search for it.... Yet why, on +second thoughts, disturb myself, since I am, by my settlements, to have +a handsome sum allowed for pin-money? Nay, since thou claim'st thy +freedom, little pin, I lack the heart to keep thee prisoner. Go, then, +and join the great majority of fallen, vagrant, unregarded pinhood--my +bliss is too supreme at such an hour to heed such infidelities as thine. + + [_Falls into a happy reverie._ + + _Enter_ First and Second Bridesmaids. + +_First and Second Bridesmaids._ What, how now, EMILY--not yet attired? +Nay, haste, for PETER will be here anon! + + [_They hurry her off by_ R. _door, just as_ PETER + PARAGON _enters_ L. _in bridal array. N.B.--The + exigences of the Drama are responsible for his making + his appearance here, instead of waiting, as is more + usual, at the church._ + +_Peter_ (_meditatively_). The golden sands of my celibacy are running +low--soon falls the final grain! Yet, even now, the glass I would not +turn. My EMILY is not without her faults--"_was_ not without them," I +should rather say, for during ten idyllic years of courtship, by precept +and example I have striven to mould her to a helpmate fit for me. Now, +thank the Gods, my labours are complete--she stands redeemed from all +her giddiness! (_Here he steps upon the pin, and utters an +exclamation_). Ha! what is this? I'm wounded ... agony! With what a +darting pain my foot's transfixed! I'll summon help (_with calm +courage_)--yet, stay, I would not dim this nuptial day by any sombre +cloud. I'll bear this stroke alone--and now to probe the full extent of +my calamity. (_Seats himself on sofa in such a position as to be +concealed by the screen from all but the audience, and proceeds to +remove his boot._) Ye powers of Perfidy, it is a pin! I must know more +of this--for it is meet such criminal neglect should be exposed. Severe +shall be that house-maid's punishment who's proved to be responsible for +this!--but soft, I hear a step. + + [_Enter_ First _and_ Second Bridesmaids, _who hunt + diligently upon the carpet without observing_ PETER's + _presence._ + +_Emily's Voice_ (_within_). Oh, search, I pray you. It _must_ be +there--my own ears heard it fall! + + [PETER _betrays growing uneasiness._ + +_The Bridesmaids._ Indeed, we fail to see it anywhere! + +_Emily_ (_entering distractedly in bridal costume, with a large rent in +her train_). You have no eyes, I tell you, let me help. It must be +found, or I am all undone! In vain my cushion I have cut in two--'twas +void of all but stuffing.... Gracious Heavens, to think that all my +future bliss depends on the evasive malice of a pin! + + [PETER _behind screen, starts violently._ + +_Peter_ (_aside_). A pin! what dire misgivings wring my heart! (_Hops +forward with a cold dignity, holding one foot in his hand._) You seem in +some excitement, EMILY? + +_Emily_ (_wildly_). _You_, PETER!... tell me--have you found a pin? + +_Peter_ (_with deadly calm_). Unhappy girl--I _have_! (_To_ +Bridesmaids.) Withdraw awhile, and when we need you, we will summon you. +(_Exeunt_ Bridesmaids; EMILY _and_ PETER _stand facing each other for +some moments in dead silence._) The pin is found--for I have trodden on +it, and may, for aught I know, be lamed for life. Speak, EMILY, what is +that maid's desert whose carelessness has led to this mishap? + +_Emily_ (_in the desperate hope of shielding herself_). Why, should the +fault be traced to any maid, instant dismissal shall be her reward, with +a month's wages paid in lieu of notice! + +_Peter_ (_with a passionless severity_). From your own lips I judge you, +EMILY. Did they not own just now that you had heard the falling of a +pin--yet heeded not? Behold the outcome of your negligence! + + [_Extends his injured foot._ + +_Emily._ Oh, let me kiss the place and make it well! + +_Peter_ (_coldly withdrawing foot_). Keep your caresses till I ask for +them. My wound goes deeper than you wot of yet, and by that disregarded +pin is pricked the iridescent bubble of Illusion! + +_Emily_ (_slowly_). Indeed, I do not wholly comprehend. + +_Peter._ Have patience and I will be plainer yet. Mine is a complex +nature, EMILY; magnanimous, but still methodical. An injury I freely can +forgive, forget it--(_striking his chest_)--never! She who leaves about +pins on the floor to pierce a lover's foot, will surely plant a thorn +within the side of him whose fate it is to be her husband! + +_Emily_ (_dragging herself towards him on her knees_). Have pity on me, +PETER; I was mad! + +_Peter_ (_with emotion_). How can I choose but pity thee, poor soul, +who, for the sake of temporary ease, hast forfeited the bliss that had +been thine! You could not stoop to pick a pin up. Why? Because, +forsooth, 'twas but a paltry pin! Yet, duly husbanded, that self-same +pin had served you to secure your gaping train, your self-respect--and +Me. + +_Emily_ (_wailing_). What have I done? + +_Peter._ I will not now reproach you, EMILY, nor would I dwell upon my +wounded sole, the pain of which increases momently. I part from you in +friendship, and in proof, that fated instrument I leave with you +(_presenting her with the pin, which she accepts mechanically_) which +the frail link between us twain has severed. I can dispense with it, for +in my cuff (_shows her his coat-cuff, in which a row of pins'-heads is +perceptible_) I carry others 'gainst a time of need. My poor success in +life I trace to this--that never yet I passed a pin unheeded. + +_Emily._ And is that all you have to say to me? + +_Peter._ I think so--save that I shall wish you well, and pray that +henceforth you may bear in mind what vast importance lies in seeming +trifles. + +_Emily_ (_with a pale smile_). PETER, your lesson is already learned, +for precious has this pin become for me, since by its aid I gain +oblivion--thus! + + [_Stabs herself._ + +_Peter_ (_coldly_). Nay, these are histrionics, EMILY. + + [_Assists her to sofa._ + +_Emily._ I'd skill enough to find a vital spot. Do not withdraw it +yet--my time is short, and I have much to say before I die. (_Faintly._) +Be gentle with my rabbits when I'm gone; give my canary chickweed +now and then.... I think there is no more--ah, one last +word--(_warmly_)--warn them they must not cut our wedding-cake, and then +the pastrycook may take it back! + +_Peter_ (_deeply moved_). Would you had shown this thoughtfulness +before! + + [_Kneels by the sofa._ + +_Emily._ 'Tis now too late, and clearly do I see that I was never worthy +of you, PETER. + +_Peter_ (_gently_). 'Tis not for me to contradict you now. You did your +best to be so, EMILY! + +_Emily._ A blessing on you for those generous words! Now tell me, PETER, +how is your poor foot? + +_Peter._ The agony decidedly abates, and I can bear a boot again. + +_Emily._ Then I die happy!... Kiss me, PETER ... ah! + + [_Dies._ + +_Peter._ In peace she passed away. I'm glad of that, although that peace +was purchased by a lie. I shall not bear a boot for many days! Thus ends +our wedding morn, and she, poor child, has paid the penalty of +heedlessness! + + [_Curtain falls, whereupon, unless Mr. Punch is greatly + mistaken, there will not be a dry eye in the house._ + + * * * * * + + 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. 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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. 98, February 1, 1890</p> +<p>Author: Various</p> +<p>Editor: Francis Burnand</p> +<p>Release Date: July 12, 2007 [eBook #22051]</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. 98, FEBRUARY 1, 1890***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by V. L. Simpson, Malcolm Farmer,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class='masthead'> +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI</h1> + +<h2>VOL. 98</h2> + +<hr class="half" /> + +<h2>February 1, 1890</h2> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg +49]</a></span></p> + +<h2>UNTILED; OR, THE MODERN ASMODEUS.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>"Très volontiers," repartit le démon. "Vous +aimez les tableaux changeans: je veux vous contenter."<br /> +<span class='ralign'><i>Le Diable Boiteux.</i></span></p></blockquote> + +<div> +<a href='images/i-049.png'> +<img class='flright' src="images/i-049th.png" width="414" height="380" +alt="" title="" /></a> +</div> + +<p class='subtitle' style='margin:3% 0% 0%'>XVIII.</p> + +<div class="stanza"> +"'<span class="smcap">Mrs. Mæcenas</span>!' So some would-be wit<br /> +Dubbed the fair dame. The title may not fit<br /> +<span class="i2">With accurate completeness;<br /></span> +It soars some shades too high, this modish <i>mot</i>,<br /> +As 'Mrs. <span class="smcap">Lyon-Hunter</span>' sinks too low;<br /> +<span class="i2">Both nick-names fail in neatness.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"The '<i>acu tetigisti</i>,' tribute rare,<br /> +Not oft is earned, in Fleet Street or Mayfair,<br /> +<span class="i2">In these hot days of hurry.<br /></span> +<i>Salons</i>, Symposia, both have met their doom,<br /> +And wit, in the Victorian drawing-room,<br /> +<span class="i2">Finds a fell foe in flurry."<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class='poem clear'> +<div class="stanza"> +So spake the Shadow, with the covert sneer<br /> +That struck so coldly on the listening ear.<br /> +<span class="i2">Soft was his speech, as muffled<br /></span> +By some chill atmosphere surcharged with snow,<br /> +In unemphatic accents, level, low,<br /> +<span class="i2">Unhasting and unruffled.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"Mrs. <span class="smcap">Mæcenas</span>, then, no <span class="smcap">Horace</span> finds<br /> +In all her muster of superior minds,<br /> +<span class="i2">Her host of instant heroes?<br /></span> +That's hard!" I said. "She does not greatly care,"<br /> +My guide rejoined. "Behold her seated there!<br /> +<span class="i2">Her court's as full as <span class="smcap">Nero's</span>.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"<span class="smcap">Seneca</span> stands beside her. He's a prim,<br /> +Sententious sage. If she is bored by him,<br /> +<span class="i2">The lady doth not show it.<br /></span> +But there's a furtive glancing of her eye<br /> +Toward the entry. There comes <span class="smcap">Marx M'Kay</span>,<br /> +<span class="i2">The Socialistic Poet.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"His lyric theories mean utter smash<br /> +To all his hostess cares for. Crude and rash,<br /> +<span class="i2">But musically 'precious.'<br /></span> +His passionate philippics against Wealth<br /> +Mammon's own daughters read, 'tis said, by stealth,<br /> +<span class="i2">And vote them 'quite delicious!'<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"All that makes life worth living to the throng<br /> +Of worshippers who mob this Son of Song,<br /> +<span class="i2">Money, Monopoly, Merriment,<br /></span> +He bans and blazes at in 'Diræ' dread;<br /> +But then they know his Muse is merely Red<br /> +<span class="i2">In metrical experiment.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"Well-dressed and well-to-do, the flaming Bard<br /> +Finds life in theory only harsh and hard.<br /> +<span class="i2">His <i>chevelure</i> looks shaggy,<br /></span> +But his black broad-cloth's glossy and well-brushed,<br /> +And he'd feel wretched if his tie were crushed,<br /> +<span class="i2">His trousers slightly baggy.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"<span class="smcap">Karl Marx</span> in metre or <span class="smcap">Lassalle</span> in verse,<br /> +The vampire-horde of Capital he'll curse,<br /> +<span class="i2">And praise the Proletariat;<br /></span> +But having thus delivered his bard-soul,<br /> +He finds it, practically, nice to loll<br /> +<span class="i2">With <span class="smcap">Dives</span> in his chariot.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"Lyrical Communism will not fright<br /> +Those 'Molochs of the Mart' this Son of Light<br /> +<span class="i2">Keeps his poetic eye on.<br /></span> +'Who takes a Singer <i>au grand sérieux</i>?'<br /> +Mrs. <span class="smcap">Mæcenas</span> asks. So he's on view,<br /> +<span class="i2">Her Season's latest lion.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"But not alone," I said. "If all this host<br /> +Are right authentic Leos, she must boast<br /> +<span class="i2">As potent charm as <span class="smcap">Circe's</span>.<br /></span> +What is her wand? Is't wit, or wealth, or both?"<br /> +"Listen! That's <span class="smcap">Mumps</span> the mimic, nothing loth,<br /> +<span class="i2">Rolling out <span class="smcap">Vamper's</span> verses!<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"<span class="smcap">Vamper</span> looks on and smiles with veiled delight.<br /> +Boredom's best friends are fellows who recite.<br /> +<span class="i2">None like, not many listen,<br /></span> +But all must make believe to stand about<br /> +And watch a man gesticulate and shout,<br /> +<span class="i2">With eyes that glare and glisten.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"'Tis hard indeed to hold in high esteem<br /> +The man who mouths out <i>Eugene Aram's Dream</i><br /> +<span class="i2">In guttural tones and raucous.<br /></span> +All these have heard a hundred times before<br /> +Young Vox, the vain and ventriloquial bore<br /> +<span class="i2">They'd fain despatch to Orcus.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"So have they listened many and many a time<br /> +To little <span class="smcap">Jinks</span>, the jerky comic mime,<br /> +<span class="i2">And his facetious chatter.<br /></span> +But ill would fare Town's guest if he refused<br /> +For the five hundredth time to be 'amused'<br /> +<span class="i2">By gush, or cockney patter.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"<span class="smcap">Horace's</span> <i>Piso</i> were a pleasant chum<br /> +Compared with slangy laureates of the slum.<br /> +<span class="i2">Hist! There's a tenor twitter,<br /></span> +A tremulous twangle of the minor strings.<br /> +'Tis <span class="smcap">Seraphin</span>, sleek Amateur, who sings,<br /> +<span class="i2">'Glide where the moonbeams glitter!'<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"'To puling girls that listen and adore<br /> +Your love-lorn chants and woful wailings pour!'<br /> +<span class="i2">Sang <span class="smcap">Horace</span> to <span class="smcap">Hermogenes</span>.<br /></span> +<span class="smcap">Seraphin's</span> a <span class="smcap">Tigellius</span>, and his style<br /> +Would bring the bland Venusian's scornful smile<br /> +<span class="i2">The scowl of sour <span class="smcap">Diogenes</span>.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"'Twere 'breaking butterflies upon the wheel'<br /> +To let such fribbles feel the critic steel<br /> +<span class="i2">With scalpel-like severity?<br /></span> +Granted! But will no pangs the victims urge<br /> +To abate that plague of bores, which is the scourge<br /> +<span class="i2">Of social insincerity?<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"Wisdom is here, and Wit, Talent and Taste:<br /> +The latest wanderer from the Tropic Waste,<br /> +<span class="i2">Sun-bronzed and care-lined, saunters<br /></span> +In cheery chat with mild-faced <span class="smcap">Mirabel</span>,<br /> +Who with Romance's wildest weirdest spell<br /> +<span class="i2">Has witched your Mudie-haunters.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"Colossal <span class="smcap">Bayard</span>, <i>beau-sabreur</i>, whose blade<br /> +A dozen desert spearmen faced and stayed,<br /> +<span class="i2">Stoops his high-shoulder'd stature<br /></span> +To hear the twittering tones of Tiny <span class="smcap">Tim</span>,<br /> +A midget, but the soul of whit and whim,<br /> +<span class="i2">The genius of good-nature.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"Boy-faced, but virile, vigorous, and a peer,<br /> +Lord <span class="smcap">Mossmore</span> talks with <span class="smcap">Violet de Vere</span>,<br /> +<span class="i2">The latest light of Fiction;<br /></span> +Steadily-rising statesman, season's star!<br /> +Calmly he hears, though Caste's keen instincts jar,<br /> +<span class="i2">Her strained self-conscious diction.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"<span class="smcap">Meldrum</span>, the modish <i>medico</i>, laughs low<br /> +At ruddy <span class="smcap">Rasper's</span> keenly-whispered <i>mot</i>—<br /> +<span class="i2"><span class="smcap">Rasper</span>, a soul all strictures,<br /></span> +Holds the great world a field for sketchy chaff.<br /> +Many love not the man, but how they laugh<br /> +<span class="i2">At his swift, scathing pictures!<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"Wits of all grades, and Talents of all sorts,<br /> +With rival beauties holding separate courts,<br /> +<span class="i2">Find here parade, employment.<br /></span> +And yet, and yet, they all look cross, or tired;<br /> +Your cultured city has not yet acquired<br /> +<span class="i2">The art of true enjoyment.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +"Strange! London's poor find pleasure far too dear,<br /> +But here, with wealth, and wit, and charm, and cheer,<br /> +<span class="i2">All should go <i>so</i> delightfully.<br /></span> +Time gay as in the Golden Age should fleet,<br /> +But the most brilliant stars in Babylon meet,<br /> +<span class="i2">And—bore each other frightfully."<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p class='center'> +(<i>To be continued.</i>)<br /> +</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>IN THE NAME OF CHARITY—GO +TO PRISON!</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Last</span> week <i>Mr. Punch</i> asked, "Oh, +where, and oh where, is The Public Prosecutor?" and he has received an +answer. It appears that the official has been recently engaged (his +letter is dated the 30th of November) in suppressing an "illegal scheme" +to aid the funds of the North-West London Hospital. It appears that, +with a view to increasing the revenue of that most deserving charity, it +was arranged to treat some presents that had been made to the +Institution as "prizes," to be given to those who sent donations to the +hospital. There was to be a "drawing," which was to be duly advertised +in the daily papers. But this could not be tolerated. +Sir <span class="smcap">A. K. Stephenson</span>, Solicitor to Her +Majesty's Treasury, after denouncing the scheme in the terms above set +forth, informed the Secretary of the Hospital, "that all persons +concerned therein subjected themselves to the penalties imposed by the +Acts passed for the suppression of illegal lotteries." Well, the law is +the law, and it would never do for <i>Mr. Punch</i> to dispute the point +with so learned a gentleman as Sir <span class="smcap">A. K. +Stephenson</span>—the more especially as Sir A. K. S. has just +been patented a Q.C.—but if the Public Prosecutor can stop +"illegal schemes" for benefiting the sick, why can he not also deal with +the professional perjurers, suborners of witnesses, and fabricators of +false evidence? <i>Mr. Punch</i> pauses for a reply, but is disinclined +to pause much longer!</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Our Turn Now.</span>—An excited paragraph +in the morning papers announces that "two Doctors of Vienna have +succeeded in discovering the Influenza <i>bacillus</i> after a series of +experiments in the Chemical and Physiological Laboratory of the +University." This is capital. Hitherto the Influenza <i>bacillus</i> has +discovered <i>us</i>. Now the tables are turned, and the question is, +What shall we do with our prize? A little transaction in boiling lead +might not be bad to begin with.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" +id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<div> +<a href='images/i-050.png'> +<img class='center' src="images/i-050th.png" width="492" height="550" +alt="" title="" /></a> +<h3>AN OLD FABLE.</h3> + +<p class='caption'><i>Frog.</i> "<span class="smcap">I mean to be as Big as you, one +Day, and Swallow you up. Bust if I don't!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>A "FISH OUT OF WATER" AT GREENWICH.</h2> + +<p>In a not very wise speech delivered while presiding at the opening of +a new series of lectures in connection with the Greenwich Branch of the +Society for the Extension of University Teaching, Lord +<span class="smcap">Wolseley</span> modestly admitted "that whatever information he had +acquired in life had been acquired from the ordinary penny newspaper +which he had read day by day." No doubt this rather +humiliating fact accounts for the florid style of the proclamations +"Our Only General" used to publish in Egypt and elsewhere—proclamations +at the time recognised as having the tone of Astley's +in the good old days of the <i>Battle of Waterloo</i> and other military +melodramas. However, if it pleases Lord <span class="smcap">Wolseley</span> to give materials +for a future biography, that is no one's concern but his own. +Unfortunately he touched upon another matter, about which he +knows evidently very little, if anything at all. His Lordship spoke +in very disrespectful terms of what he called the "Shilling Dreadful," +which, he declared (in this instance accurately enough), was "prized +by many people." Certainly the novelette is more popular than <i>The +Soldier's Pocket-book</i>, although both <i>brochures</i> are equally works of +imagination. So it should be, considering that amongst the authors +who have produced it have been <span class="smcap">Wilkie Collins</span>, <span class="smcap">Hugh Conway</span>, +<span class="smcap">F. Anstey</span>, <span class="smcap">Robert Buchanan</span>, <span class="smcap">Grant Allen</span>, <span class="smcap">Walter Besant</span>, +<span class="smcap">Rhoda Broughton</span>, and others equally well known to fame. He concluded +by remarking, "that if men of all politics were to be shaken +up in a bag, he believed there would be very little difference between +them." Quite true, if the bag were shaken sufficiently long to complete +the transformation—but it would be rather a brutal experiment!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg +51]</a></span></p> + +<div class='illustration flright' style='border-left:1px +solid;border-bottom:1px solid; margin:1em;'> +<a href='images/i-051.png'> +<img src="images/i-051th.png" width="401" height="500" alt="" title="" +/></a> + +<h3>REFRESHMENTS IN VOGUE.</h3> + +<p class='caption smcap'>"Quinine or Antipyrine, my Lady?"</p> +</div> + +<h2>A PAGE FROM A DIARY.</h2> + +<p class='subtitle'> (<i>Purely Imaginary.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>First Week.</i>—Now let me see what I have to do. I will +leave out of consideration my extra-parliamentary utterances—they +will take care of themselves. Shan't forget +<i>them</i>. But other matters. Well, I have to turn the works +of my dear old friend <span class="smcap">Alf Tennyson</span> into Greek—of course, omitting certain highly injudicious lines of a reactionary +character. Then I must read through the last edition of +the <i>Encyclopædia Britannica</i>. No skipping, but go through +<i>every</i> article thoroughly and conscientiously. Then, of +course, there is Grand Day at Gray's Inn. Must <i>not</i> forget +that. Should like, above all things, to be present. Now let +me see that I have got the date all right. Yes, I remember. +Grand Day, Hilary Term. Falls on a Thursday. I shan't forget.</p> + +<p><i>Second Week.</i>—Translation +of <span class="smcap">Tennyson</span> into Greek going on famously. Not +had time to cut down any trees, so busy have I been. Got as far as +"Foghorn" in <i>Encyclopædia Britannica</i>. New edition a very +good one. Glad I made up my mind to read it. Let me see, anything else? +Why, to be sure, Grand Day at Gray's Inn! Rather cut off my hand or even +my head, than forget <i>that</i>! Treasurer particularly nice man. So +are all the Benchers. So are all the Barristers and the Students. +Excellent fellows, all of them—yes, excellent. So must not forget +Grand Day at Gray's Inn. To be sure. Falls on a Thursday.</p> + +<p><i>Third Week.</i>—<i>A. T.</i> progressing nicely. Little +difficulty about the translation of the <i>Northern Farmer</i>. Rather +awkward to give the proper weight of a country dialect in Greek. +However, it reads very well, indeed! Think my dear old +friend <span class="smcap">Alf</span> will be pleased with it; he should +be, as it has given me a good deal of trouble. However, all's well that +ends well. <i>E. B.</i> also satisfactory. Got into the "D's." Article +upon the "Docks," scarcely exhaustive enough to please me, so have been +reading some other books upon the same subject. Forgotten nothing? No, +because I remember I have to dine at Gray's Inn. Yes, to be +sure—23rd of January. Grand Day. Hilary Term. Falls on a Thursday. +Would not forget it to save my election! Looking forward to the port. +Excellent port at Gray's Inn, I am told. Well, well, I shall be there! I +don't believe much in artificial memory, but to assist my recollection, +I have tied knots in all my pocket-handkerchiefs. Wouldn't forget the +fixture for a kingdom. Falls on a Thursday.</p> + +<p><i>Fourth Week.</i>—Finished Greek translation +of <span class="smcap">Tennyson's</span> Poems. Very pleased with the +result. Must send a copy to dear old <span class="smcap">Alf</span>. +Perhaps it might suggest to him that it would be a graceful compliment +in return to translate all my speeches into Latin verse. Dear old +friend! There is not another man to whom I would entrust such a task +with equal heartiness. He would do it <i>so</i> well. Must look up my +earlier orations. If <span class="smcap">Alf</span> does <i>any</i> of +it, he should do it <i>all</i>. I do not believe in half measures. +Nearly finished the <i>E. B.</i> Article upon "Music" very interesting. +"Pigs" not so good; however "Wheel-barrows" excellent and exhaustive. +Rather angry to find knots in my handkerchiefs, &c., until I +suddenly remembered they were to remind me of my engagement to dine at +Gray's Inn. To be sure. Grand Day, Hilary Term. Falls on a Thursday. +Sure to be a delightful evening. Several of my young Irish friends are +members of the Society. I am looking forward to it <i>so</i> much. +Useful things, knots. Remembered it at once! Tie them again. Also +put <i>grey</i> wideawake hat over clock in my study. That will remind +me of <i>Gray's</i> Inn. Falls on a Thursday!</p> + +<p><i>Last Week.</i>—There, now I can come to this book with a +clear conscience. Done everything. Greek translation of +<span class="smcap">Tennyson</span> ready for press. Finished letter "Z" last night, +in final volume of the <i>Encyclopædia Britannica</i>. Nothing +omitted. Rather annoyed to find someone has been tying +knots in my handkerchief. Hate practical jokes! Careless +person, too, has been hanging my old grey wideawake on the +clock in my study. Rather a liberty! Don't like liberties. +Always courteous to <i>everybody</i>—consequently, expect <i>everybody</i> +to be courteous to <i>me</i>! Still, can't help smiling. It +<i>was</i> a quaint idea to hang my old wideawake on the clock in +my study. I wonder what put such a freak into the joker's +head! Now let me look at the paper that has just reached +me from London. Dear me, "The Vacant Chair." That seems +a good title. And all about Gray's Inn! Now, I like +Gray's Inn—a most excellent place; everyone connected with +it great friends of mine. And writing of Gray's Inn, that +reminds me—Good gracious! Why, last night was +Thursday, and I forgot to be there!!!</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>MENU-BETTING.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span> who bet on every event in +life—who cut cards to decide whether they shall go into the City +by cab or by underground train, and toss up to see whether they had +better dine at home or at the Club, may be interested to know of a new +game of chance which can be played at dinnertime, and in which ladies +not only may but must take part. "Betting on the <i>menu</i>" it is +called; and it is done in this way. You ask the lady next to you on the +right—the one you have taken in to dinner—permission to +speculate as to what dishes she will choose from among those inscribed +on the <i>menu</i>; and you back your selection in a series of bets +either with the lady herself, or—if she happens not to be what the +French call "<i>sportive</i>"—with any gentleman who may be +willing to do business with you. Suppose the lady takes you? You make a +pencil-mark against each dish which, it seems to you, she will fancy; +and if you are right more often than you are wrong, you win—and +the lady does not pay you. In the contrary case you lose—and you +pay the lady. It need scarcely be said that you annotate your own copy +of the <i>menu</i>, and that the lady does not see it until the dinner +is at an end. The same principle is observed in betting with a gentleman +in reference to a lady's probable selection; but in this latter case +neither of the parties interested is at liberty to express any opinion, +directly or indirectly, as to the merits or demerits of the different +dishes from which the lady has to choose. Any member of the unfair sex +may make sure of winning from her antagonist—who will naturally +have marked a certain number of dishes—by simply abstaining from +food throughout the dinner; though the lady of the house might think +this impolite. <i>Menu</i>-betting is in any case an agreeable pastime +for both sexes. It promotes digestion; and any woman of moderate ability +may make money by it.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">More Light!</span>"—The British Museum is, +it appears, presently to be opened at night, its (Elgin) marble halls +and others being illuminated with the electric light. Concurrently with +this happy event Mr. <span class="smcap">Louis Fagan</span>, of the +Departments of Prints and Drawings, announces a course of three popular +lectures on the Treasures of the Museum, to be delivered next month at +the Steinway Hall. No one knows more about the Museum than +Mr. <span class="smcap">Fagan</span>, and, with the assistance of 170 +photographic reproductions, exhibited by oxyhydrogen light, he will +teach the public a thing or two about its foundation, progress, and +present contents.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg +52]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='flleft' +style='width:403px;border-right:1px solid;border-bottom:1px solid; +padding-bottom:1%;padding-right:1.5%;'> +<a href='images/i-052.png'> +<img src="images/i-052th.png" width="403" height="500" alt="" title="" +/></a> + +<h3>PHENOMENAL.</h3> + +<p class="smcap">Near-sighted Man in Church, inspecting Sham +Insect on Lady's Bonnet. He is so excited by the discovery, that he +hurries out of Church in the middle of the Service, in order to write to +the Papers to announce the sudden appearance of a magnificent specimen +of the large Tortoise-Shell Butterfly on our Shores in mid-January, as a +proof of the Mildness of the Climate.</p> +</div> + +<h2>AMONG THE AMATEURS.</h2> + +<p class='center'>No. IV.—RETROSPECT.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Scene</span>—<i>A large Room, +in which Guests are assembling previous to a Supper in honour of a Great +Actor, who is about to leave for a tour to the United States. There has +been a magnificent farewell performance, in which the Great Actor has +surpassed himself. The public has shown unparalleled enthusiasm; the G. +A. has appeared before the Curtain, and in a voice choked with emotion +has assured his audience that the one thing that sustains him at this +trying moment is the prospect of seeing them all again when he +returns.</i></p> + +<p><span +class="smcap">Time</span>—11.45 <span +class="smcap lower">P.M.</span> <i>The Room is full of histrionic, literary, +and artistic Celebrities, with a few stray Barristers and Doctors, who +like to show publicly that in spite of the arduous labours of their +professions, they can enjoy a mild dissipation as well as any man. Most +of the leading lights of the "Thespian +Perambulators,"</i> <span +class="smcap">Boldero</span>, <span class="smcap">Tiffington +Spinks</span>, <span +class="smcap">Gushby</span>, <span class="smcap">Andrew +Jarp</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Hall</span>, <i>have come to +prove by their presence the sympathy of the Amateur Stage. On the last +night but one they had concluded their series of performances at +Blankbury. The Chairman of the Banquet is a middle-aged Peer, who is a +regular attendant at first nights, and occupies a subordinate office in +the Ministry. The Guest of the Evening has not yet arrived. A buzz of +conversation fills the air. The Secretary of the Banquet, an actor, is +anxiously hurrying about with a list, on which he ticks off +names.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>The Secretary</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Boldero</span>). +So glad all you fellows have been able to come. I've put you pretty well +together, as you wished. I wonder where—oh! here he is at +last.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Enter Great Actor. The Secretary rushes to him. +Hand-shakings and congratulations all round. The G. A. moves up the room +to where the Amateurs are standing.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>G. A.</i> (<i>shaking hands.</i>) Ah! this is really +friendly, <span class="smcap">Tiffington</span>, really friendly. Were +you in front to-night?</p> + +<p><i>Tiffington.</i> Of course we were. We wouldn't have missed it for +a thousand pounds. It went first class. I thought your idea of +stabbing <span class="smcap">Alphonso</span> from behind instead of in +front, was a genuine inspiration.</p> + +<p><i>G. A.</i> Approbation from Sir <span class="smcap">Hubert</span>. +(<i>Bows and leaves quotation unfinished</i>). But I've always played it +like that, I think.</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>Supper is announced. The Guests troop in to the +supper-room.</i></p> + +<p><i>Tiffington</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Jarp</span>, <i>as +they walk in</i>). He's wrong there. Never did it like that before; and, +after all, I'm not sure it is such an improvement. But if you don't +praise these fellows they never forgive you.</p> + +<p><i>Jarp.</i> Didn't he say anything about our show at Blankbury? I +thought you wrote to him about it.</p> + +<p><i>Tiffington.</i> So I did; wrote specially to tell him how well +things had gone off. But you might just as well try to pump wine out of +a pillar-box, as expect a word of sympathy or encouragement from a +professional. They're all the same.</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>They take their +seats,</i> <span +class="smcap">Tiffington</span> <i>and</i> <span +class="smcap">Jarp</span> <i>on one side of the table, the other three +opposite them. The supper begins.</i></p> + +<p><i>Friend of the G. A.</i> +(<i>on</i> <span class="smcap">Tiffington</span>'s <i>right</i>). +Splendid performance, was it not? I never saw him in finer form in my +life. It's quite impossible to imagine anything more dignified and +pathetic than his death-scene.</p> + +<p><i>Tiffington</i> (<i>dubiously</i>). Hum! Yes. I'm not sure I should +do it like that quite. What do you +say, <span class="smcap">Gushby</span>?</p> + +<p><i>Gushby.</i> It's not my idea at all. He spins it out far too long. +I should like to see you act that, <span class="smcap">Tiff</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Tiffington</i> (<i>complacently</i>). Ah, well, so you might if +things were managed with common fairness. But (<i>bitterly</i>) you know +well enough there's a regular conspiracy against me. (<i>To Friend of G. +A.</i>) Now, of course, you've read the notices of our performance +of <i>Heads or Tails</i>? Yes. I thought you had. Well, you <i>must</i> +have observed, that I don't get more than two lines in any one of them, +not a word more than two lines upon my soul, and yet any fool knows that +my part was the chief one. But there you are. The beggars daren't abuse +me. They know the public won't stand that, so, just to spite me, they +try to leave me out. But they're very much mistaken if they think I +care. Pooh! I snap my fingers at them and their wretched conspiracy.</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>Snaps them, and drinks moodily. The supper proceeds. +Conversation everywhere ranges over all kinds of +topics,—literature, art, the drama, the political situation, the +last Divorce Case. The Amateurs continue to discuss +themselves.</i></p> + +<p><i>Jarp</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Boldero</span>). Did you +see that infamous notice in <i>The Moonbeam</i>? Just like that +rascal <span class="smcap">Penfold</span>. He can't help showing his +jealousy, because we never asked him to join the Perambulators.</p> + +<p><i>Boldero.</i> Yes. There you have it in a nutshell. I tell you what +it is, we shall have to exclude all critics from our show in future.</p> + +<p><i>Tiffington.</i> Ah! that would punish them—and serve them +right, too. Are you going to sing +to-night, <span class="smcap">Hall</span>?</p> + +<p><i>Hall</i> (<i>with a sigh of resignation</i>). I suppose I shall +have to. I told <span class="smcap">Batterdown</span> I should be ready, +if wanted.</p> + +<p><i>Jarp.</i> Have you got anything new?</p> + +<p><i>Hall.</i> Rather. Something particularly neat, I think. I call it +"<i>The Super at Supper</i>." It goes like this:—</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>Hums to his friends, who listen with rapt +attention, occasionally interchanging glances expressive of enthusiastic +admiration.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +I once knew a Super, a festive soul,<br /> +Who quaffed champagne from a brimming bowl,<br /> +And all night long as he quaffed he sang,<br /> +"The Dukes may swing, and the Earls go hang,<br /> +And the Duchesses, 'drat 'em, may go and be blowed;<br /> +They've all been there, and they know the road—<br /> +They're slaves, but the Super who sups is free—<br /> +Oh! the Super's life is the life for me!<br /> +</div> +<p class='center'><i>Chorus.</i></p> +<div class="stanza"> +With a hey-diddle-diddle and fiddle-di-dee,<br /> +Oh! the supping Super's the man for me!"<br /> +</div> +</div> + +<p><i>Spinks, Boldero, Gushby, Jarp</i> (<i>with +enthusiasm</i>). My dear fellow, that's immense.</p> + +<p><i>Hill.</i> Yes, it's not bad. There are six verses, some of them +even better than that.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg +53]</a></span></p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>The Chairman rises to propose the only toast of the +evening, "Success to the Great Actor who is about to leave us for a +short time." The usual speech—reminiscent, anecdotic, prophetic of +tremendous triumphs, mildly humorous, pathetic.</i></p> + +<p><i>The Chairman</i> (<i>concluding</i>). Therefore I bid you all +charge your glasses as full of wine as your hearts are full of sympathy, +and join me in wishing success to the Great Man, who is about to cull +new laurels in a foreign land.</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>Roars of applause. Immense enthusiasm. The Great +Actor responds. He is moved to tears. He assures his friends, that +wherever he may go his heart will ever turn fondly to them. Great +cheering.</i></p> + +<p><i>Tiffington</i> (<i>puffing his cigar</i>). Not so bad. I always +said he could speak better than he could act.</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>The supper +concludes.</i> <span class="smcap">Hall</span> <i>has not been asked to +sing.</i></p> + +<p><i>Friend of Great Actor</i> (<i>departing, +to</i> <span class="smcap">Tiffington</span>). It's been a splendid +evening, hasn't it?</p> + +<p><i>Tiffington</i> (<i>putting on his coat</i>). Yes. Pretty fair. +(<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Hall</span>.) Sorry for you, old chap. +But the song will keep.</p> + +<p><i>Hall.</i> Keep? Oh, yes, it'll keep. I'll make it red-hot for the +lot of 'em, and sing it at Blankbury next year. They won't like that, I +rather think.</p> + +<p><i>Jarp.</i> No, by Gad!</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>Exeunt omnes.</i></p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>THE SHREWING OF THE TAME.</h2> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Dear Mr. Punch</span>,<br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F. R. Benson</span> deserves commendation for +a new idea. +<span class="smcap">Shakspeare</span> has been presented in many forms, but the notion of +giving the Bard without any acting to speak of is a novelty. And +it is not quite certain that it is a mistake. After all, a bad actor is +an infliction, and it is better to have gentlemen who have not spent +centuries in mastering the intricacies of their profession than a noisy +personage who tears his passions to atoms. The recent revivals of +<i>A Midsummer Night's Dream</i> and the <i>Taming of the Shrew</i> at the +Globe Theatre show how pleasing Shakspearian representations may +be made, even when their success depends less upon elocution than +scenic effect. The first of these plays was simply delightful, with +its fairy glades and "built-up" temples. The last, too, is well off +for "cloths," pleasingly representing Padua and Verona. The performers +(with the exception of Mr. <span class="smcap">Stephen Phillips</span>, who speaks +his lines with admirable effect) are not so noticeable. One of the +best-played parts in the piece is filled by an actor whose name does +not appear in the programme. He has nothing to do but to carry +off <i>Katherina</i> (Mrs. <span class="smcap">F. R. Benson</span>), in Sc. 5., Act III., on his back. +That he looks like an ass while doing this goes without saying, but +still he is a valuable addition to the cast. From an announcement +in the programme, it appears that <i>Othello</i>, <i>Hamlet</i>, and the +<i>Merchant of Venice</i> are shortly to be played. It seems at the first +blush a difficult task to pick out of Mr. <span class="smcap">Benson's</span> present company +a gentleman quite suited to fill the title <i>rôles</i> in the two first, and +<i>Shylock</i> in the last. But, no doubt, the Lessee and Manager thinks +the playing of the characters of the Prince of Denmark and the +Moor a matter of minor importance. And, if he does, it may be +argued, from the cordial reception that has been accorded to +<i>A Midsummer Night's Dream</i> and the <i>Taming of the Shrew</i>, that +he has an excellent reason for his opinion.</p> + +<p>Believe me, yours truly,<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 1em;' class='smcap'>One who is Easily +Pleased</span>.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>HOW TO MEET IT.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sir</span>,—Having read all the letters +that have appeared in the papers suggesting a treatment for the +prevailing epidemic, I have got, perhaps, a little confused; but, on the +whole, the following is the course, as far as I can make out, that it +would be prudent to pursue on finding oneself threatened with any of the +well-known symptoms. Immediately get into a warm bath several degrees +hotter than you can possibly bear it, then get out again. Now go to bed, +send for your family solicitor, and make your will, meantime trying +every half hour half a tumbler or so of any patent medicine the +advertisement of which occurs to you. Call in a homœopathic doctor, +and give his system a turn for four-and-twenty hours; then send for your +own medical man. Take care that they do not meet on the stairs. Take +anything and everything he gives you for the next eight-and-forty hours, +interspersing his prescriptions with frequent tumblers of hot and +steaming ammoniated quinine-and-water, getting down at the same time +more beef tea, oysters, champagne, muffins, mince-pies, oranges, nuts, +and whiskey than, under ordinary circumstances, you feel would be good +for you. Continue the above treatment for a couple of months. This is +what I am going to try, if I am down with it. As I said above, it is, if +a little complicated, sure to be all right, for I have got every item of +it from a careful perusal of those infallible guides and directors in +all modern difficulties and doubts,</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">The Daily Papers</span>.<br /> +</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>KICKED!</h2> + +<p class='center'>(<i>By the Foot of Clara Groomley.</i>)</p> + +<p class='center smcap'>Chapter II.</p> + +<p>I am still at Ryde, and it is still raining. On a day like this, a +little Ryde goes a great way. No Ryde without rain. <i>Telle est la +vie.</i> The young girls at Plumfields sit writing themes indoors +instead of taking their exercise in the open air.</p> + +<div class='flright'> +<a href='images/i-053.png'> +<img src="images/i-053th.png" width="326" height="400" alt="" title="" +/></a> +</div> + +<p>If this rain keeps on, I shall go to wild Assam again, or to the +Goodwin Sands. <span class="smcap">James</span>, the headwaiter, has +told me thirteen different stories of the haunted room of this hotel. +None of them are amusing, or interesting, or have anything to do with +this tale. If I were writing a shilling volume, I should put them in by +way of padding. As it is, they may go out. I too will go out.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<p>I have seen Mlle. <span class="smcap">Donnerwetter</span>. She was +racing along on the pier, and I was pacing along in the rear. I saw her +and caught her up. I hastily pressed all the valuables that I had with +me—four postage-stamps and an unserviceable watch-key—into +her hand, and entreated her to give me an interview with +Miss <span class="smcap">Smith</span>.</p> + +<p>"Me muchee want to oblige English Sahib," she said, in her pulverised +English, "but ze Effendina—ze what you call 'ead-mistress, French +lady like myself—she no like it. She give me the <i>bottine</i>, +if I let great buckra massa talk to +Fraulein <span class="smcap">Smeets</span>. But lookee—I give you +straight tip. Miss <span class="smcap">Smeets</span> is on ze pier +now—you write note—slip it in her hand. I wink ze eyebrow. I +have a grand envy to oblige the English Signor. Ah! Bismillah! <i>Quelle +alouette!</i>"</p> + +<p>She is French, very French, but she has a kind heart. I hurriedly +wrote a few impassioned words on my left cuff, and folded it into a +three-cornered note. I dropped it down +Miss <span class="smcap">Smeet's</span> neck as I found her leaning over +the side of the pier, and then ran away. I heard her murmur, "Someone's +mistaken me for the post-office."</p> + +<p>It is still raining, but I am quite happy. I have seen her again, and +I feel that she loves me. It was impossible to mistake the +<i>tendresse</i> with which she murmured, "post-office." In my little +note I requested her to send a reply to this hotel. I have asked her +to tell me plainly what her income is, and to state on what conditions +she will forfeit it. Of course, she has no income now, as she is a +minor, but I would wait a year or two for a certainty. Shall I write +her some verses—lines to a minor, or thoughts on the Southampton +quay? Perhaps I had better wait until I obtain the statistics. Ah, +here is <span class="smcap">James</span>, bringing me a note. It must be from my darling—no, +it is from Mademoiselle.</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Dear +Sir</span>,—Miss <span class="smcap">Smith</span> am going away to +Londres. A telegram come for her, and I look over the shoulder. It say, +'Poor <span class="smcap">Tommy's</span> kicked! Come at once,' +Miss <span class="smcap">Smith</span> make the tears.</p> + +<p> +Yours,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Lucia Donnerwetter</span>. +</p></blockquote> + + +<p>I must be off to London and get this matter +traced. <span class="smcap">James</span> entreats me to buy a new hat +when I am away. He says it's bringing disgrace on the hotel, and keeping +away custom. What! Give up the hat which her dear foot has kicked! +Never! But, perhaps, I will have it ironed. The iron has entered into my +soul, and perhaps, it would be doing more good on my hat. Yes, I will +have it ironed. It does look a little limp. Ironed or +starched—what matter, when my darling is gone, and left me with no +information as to her income?</p> + +<p>(<i>To be concluded in Two more Chapters.</i>)</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>"Venice Preserved" in The Haymarket.</h2> + +<p>No—not <span class="smcap">Otway's</span> tragedy, and not +under Mr. <span class="smcap">Beerbohm Tree's</span> management, but at +the Gallery next door to the Theatre, and under the superintendence of +Mr. <span class="smcap">McLean</span>, you will find not only Venice, +but Florence, Prague, Heidelberg, Capri, Augsburg, Nuremburg, +Innsbrück, and a good many other picturesque places, preserved in +about a hundred water-colour drawings, by Mr. <span class="smcap">Edward +H. Bearne</span>. If there were not so many rivers and lagoons in the +exhibition, it might be called the "Bearnese Oberland." These pictures +are well painted, and, during the gruesome weather, a tiny tour round +this sunny gallery is mighty refreshing.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Study for the Pelican +Club.</span>—The "Logic and Principles of +Mill."</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg +54]</a></span></p> + +<div> +<a href='images/i-054.png'> +<img class='center' src="images/i-054th.png" width="600" height="388" +alt="" title="" /></a> + +<h3>HAPPY THOUGHT.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Our Artist, finding he cannot exterminate the +Street Musicians, and unwilling to be exterminated by them, has hit upon +a Plan for Hardening himself—with the happiest results. Just One +Week of the discipline represented above has made him absolutely +Invulnerable—he thinks, for Life!</span></p> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>"BRITONS NEVER WILL BE SLAVES!"</h2> + +<p class='center'>(<i>A Scene from a Domestic Comedy.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Bob Bull</span> was the wife of a British +Workman, and she got up at four o'clock in the morning.</p> + +<p>"Must rise early," she said, "to see that my man has his +breakfast."</p> + +<p>So she lighted the fire, and put the kettle on to boil, and laid the +cloth, and swept out the rooms. Then down +came <span class="smcap">Bob</span> rather in a bad humour, because he +had been late over-night at the "Cock and Bottle," detained (as he +explained to his wife) by a discussion about the rights of labour.</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Mrs. <span class="smcap">Bull</span>; "and why +shouldn't you, after a hard day's work, enjoy yourself?"</p> + +<p>But <span class="smcap">Bob</span> contended that he had not enjoyed +himself, although he had undoubtedly expended two shillings and +eight-pence upon refreshment. What <span class="smcap">Bob</span> wanted +to know was, why there was a button off his coat, and why his waistcoat +had not been properly mended.</p> + +<p>"Well, I was busy with the children's things," replied +Mrs. <span class="smcap">Bob</span>; "but I will put all straight when +you have gone to work."</p> + +<p>"Gone to work, indeed!" grumbled <span class="smcap">Bob</span>. +"Yes, it's I that does all the work, and worse luck to it!"</p> + +<p>The moment <span class="smcap">Bob</span> was out of the house, +Mrs. <span class="smcap">Bob</span> got the children up and dressed +them, and gave them their breakfasts and sent them off to school. When +they were gone, she "tidied up" and dressed the baby. Then she did one +of "the bits of washing," that came from a family in whose service she +had been before she married +<span class="smcap">Bob</span>, and that family's connection. And this +occupied her fully, what with soaking, and mangling and ironing, until +it was time to carry <span class="smcap">Bob</span> his dinner. In the +pauses of her work she had been able to cook it, and it was quite ready +to go with her when she was prepared to take it. It was a long walk (in +the rain) to <span class="smcap">Bob's</span> place of work, and it +seemed the longer because she could not leave the baby. But both got +there, and the dinner, without any accident. And then +Mrs. <span class="smcap">Bob</span> hurried back to give the children, +now home from school, <i>their</i> midday meal. And +Mrs. <span class="smcap">Bob</span> had plenty of work to do afterwards. +She had to mend, and to scrub, and to sweep, and to sew. She was not off +her legs for a moment, and had she been a weaker woman, she would have +been thoroughly done up. Then came the children's evening toilette and +the cooking of <span class="smcap">Bob's</span> supper. Her lord and +master entered in due course, and she helped him off with his coat, and +(when he had finished his food) lighted his pipe for him.</p> + +<p>"Mended my clothes?" asked <span class="smcap">Bob</span>.</p> + +<p>"Of course I have."</p> + +<p>"And washed my linen, and druv nails into my boots, and baked the +bread, and pickled the walnuts, and all the rest of it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, <span class="smcap">Bob</span>, I have done them +all—every one of them."</p> + +<p>This put <span class="smcap">Bob</span> into a better temper, and he +took out an evening paper, and began to read it.</p> + +<p>"I say," said he; "what do you think! They have got white slaves in +Turkey!"</p> + +<p>"You don't say so, <span class="smcap">Bob</span>!" replied +Mrs. <span class="smcap">Bob</span>, lost in amazement. Then she said as +she paused tidying up the room, "Ah! they wouldn't allow anything +of <i>that</i> sort in England!—would they, +<span class="smcap">Bob</span>?"</p> + +<p>And <span class="smcap">Bob</span>, smoking his pipe, and sprawling +before the fire, agreed with her!</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>The Riviera in Bond Street.</h2> + +<p>Why take a long journey and spend a lot of money, when the Riviera is +within a shilling cab-fare? Why not apply at 148, New Bond Street, and +obtain one of the Fine Art Society's "excursion +<i>coupons</i>," and get yourself personally conducted by Mr. <span class="smcap">John +Fulleylove</span> to Nice, Monte Carlo, Genoa, and all sorts of delightful +places? Take <i>Mr. Punch's</i> advice, and go there at once! And, +when you have exhausted the Riviera, you have another treat +in a series of well-nigh seventy drawings of Cambridge. These +are skilfully limned, with scrupulous architectural accuracy and +charming pictorial effect, and will give great delight to Cantabrians, +old and young. They are worthy to take their place beside the +excellent series of pictures of Oxford which Mr. <span class="smcap">Fulleylove</span> +exhibited some time ago.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg +55]</a></span></p> + +<div> +<a href='images/i-055.png'> +<img class='center' src="images/i-055th.png" width="700" height="535" +alt="" title="" /></a> +<h3>THE FOREIGN FOX.</h3> + +<p class='center'>(<i>With apologies to Æsop.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg +56]</a></span></p> + + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg +57]</a></span></p> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<div class='flleft'> +<a href='images/i-057.png'> +<img src="images/i-057th.png" width="500" height="341" alt="" title="" +/></a> +</div> + +<p>"Bring me my books!" said the Baron, not for the first time. But on +this occasion the Baron was a prisoner in bed, and likely to remain so +for many days. Consequently, he required amusement. He had heard of a +book, called <i>Three Men in a Boat</i>, by +Mr. <span class="smcap">Jerome K. Jerome</span>, some of whose +observations, in a collection of papers entitled +<i>Stage-land</i>, had caused him to laugh several times, and to smile +frequently, for the subject has not been so well touched since <span class="smcap">Gilbert +Abbott à Beckett</span> wrote his inimitable <i>Quizziology of the Drama</i>, +which for genuine drollery has never been surpassed. Anticipating, +then, some side-splitters from <i>Three Men in a Boat</i>, the Baron sent +for the work. He opened it with a chuckle, which, instead of developing +itself into a guffaw and then into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, +gradually subsided altogether, his smile vanished, and an expression +of weariness came over the Baron's face, as after heroically plodding +through five chapters he laid the book down, and sighed aloud, +"Well, I'm hanged if I see where the fun of this is." The +Baron may be wrong, and the humour of this book, which seems to +him to consist in weak imitations of American fun, and in conversations +garnished with such phrases as "bally idiot," "bally +tent," "doing a mouch," "boss the job," "put a pipe in his +mouth, and spread himself over a chair," "land him with a frying-pan," +"fat-headed chunk," "who the thunder" and so forth—a style +the Baron believes to have been introduced from Yankee-land, and +patented here by the <i>Sporting Times</i> and its imitators,—interspersed +with plentiful allusions to whiskey-drinking, may not be, as it is not, +to his particular taste; and yet, for all that, it may be marvellously +funny. So the Baron requested an admirer of this book to pick out the +gems, and read them aloud to him. But even the admirer was compelled +to own that the gems did not sparkle so brilliantly as he had +at first thought. "Yet," observed the admirer, "it has had a big +sale." "<i>Three Men in a Boat</i> ought to have," quoth the Baron, +cheerily, and then he called aloud, "Bring me <i>Pickwick</i>!" He commenced +at the Review, and the first meeting of <i>Mr. Pickwick</i> with +the Wardle family. Within five minutes the Baron was shaking +with spasmodic laughter, and <span class="smcap">Charles Dickens's</span> drollery was as +irresistible as ever. Of course the Baron does not for one moment +mean to be so unfair to the <i>Three Men in a Boat</i> as to institute a +comparison between it and the immortal <i>Pickwick</i>, but he has heard +some young gentlemen, quite of the modern school, who profess +themselves intensely amused by such works as this, and as the two +books by the author of <i>Through Green Glasses</i>, and yet allow that +they could not find anything to laugh at in <i>Pickwick</i>. They did +not object to <i>Pickwick</i>, as ladies very often do, that there is so +much eating and drinking in it. "No," says the Baron, in bed, +"Give me my <i>Pickwick</i>, and, after him, for a soothing and pleasant +companion, give me <span class="smcap">Washington Irving</span>. When I'm in another +sort of humour, bring me <span class="smcap">Thackeray</span>. For rollicking Irish life, give +me <span class="smcap">Lever</span>. But as to youth-about-town life of the present day, +I do not know of any second-class humorist who approaches within +measurable distance of the author of <i>The Pottleton Legacy</i>, in the +past." So far the Baron. And now "The Co." speaks:—</p> + +<p><i>A Tour in a Phaëton</i>, by J. +J. <span class="smcap">Hissey</span>, is an interesting account of a +driving trip through the Eastern Counties. It abounds in hisseytorical +research; we are taken to all kinds of out-of-the-way and picturesque +places, of which the Author gives us graphic pictures with pencil as +well as pen. A fresher title to the work might have been devised, as the +present one bears a striking likeness to Mr. +<span class="smcap">Black's</span> <i>Adventures of a Phaëton</i>,—who, by the way, was the first +to render driving tours popular. The volume abounds in poetical +quotations. The authority, however, is seldom given, and inverted +commas are conspicuous by their absence. It can hardly be imagined +that all this poetry is by the writer of the book. In one instance he +quotes a well-known verse by <span class="smcap">Ashby-Sterry</span>, without acknowledgment, +in which, for some inscrutable reason, he has introduced a +rugged final line which effectually mars the harmony of the original +stanza.</p> + +<p>Those who prefer Scotch broth well peppered to Butter-Scotch, should +read <i>Our Journey to the Hebrides</i>, by Mr. and +Mrs. <span class="smcap">Pennell</span>. They seem to have gone out of +the beaten track in their tour, which is pleasant, and their views of +Scotland, though they may cause controversy, are novel, and at the same +time indescribably refreshing. As to the views of Scotland chronicled by +Mr. <span class="smcap">Pennell's</span> clever and facile pencil, they +are full of thought, elaborate detail and wondrous originality. There +are some forty of these, all remarkable for their everlasting variety +and high artistic excellence.</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Hermione</i> (<i>Blackwood</i>) is rather an idyl than a +novel, and would have done better still if it had been cast in the form +of a comedy. The still anonymous author who followed up <i>Zit and +Zoë</i> by <i>Lady Bluebeard</i> possesses the gift, rare among +novelists, of writing sparkling dialogue. The quickly changing scenes in +the last chapter of <i>Dr. Hermione</i>, with its sprightly chatter +would serve the poor player almost as it stands. It is not too late to +think about the comedy. In the meanwhile the novel does very well, and +if he had made his story a book for the play, we should have missed many +dainty descriptions of scenery. Nothing is so good as his description of +the Lake District in Autumn, unless it be his pictures of the +surroundings of the Nile as it</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +Flows through hushed old Egypt and its sands,<br /> +Like some grave mighty thought, threading a dream.<br /> +</div></div> + +<p><i>Some Places of Note in England</i> +(<span class="smcap">Dowdeswells</span>) have been deftly noted by a +notable artist, namely, <span class="smcap">Birket Foster</span>. From +the "places of note," he has evolved some of the most delicate of +harmonies. Whether he gives us a Canterbury <i>cantata</i>, a Richmond +<i>rondo</i>, a Stratford symphony, a Lambeth <i>lied</i>, or a Tilbury <i>toccata</i> +we are equally delighted with his choice of <i>motivo</i> and his brilliancy +of execution. In this volume we have five-and-twenty pictures, +admirably reproduced in the highest style of lithography. Mr. +<span class="smcap">Birket Foster</span> has been before the public for many years—he +appeared, if we mistake not, in the early numbers of the <i>Illustrated +News</i>: his work has been constant, and his pictures countless ever +since, and yet, in the present volume, we find him better than ever.</p> + +<p><i>Sporting Celebrities.</i> The first number of this new monthly +contains two excellent portraits by +M. <span class="smcap">Walery</span>. One is of the Duke of +<span class="smcap">Beaufort</span>, the other of Mr. <span class="smcap">Cholmondeley Pennell</span>. They are +accompanied by crisp well-written biographical notices. The two +portraits are well worth the price charged for the Magazine. A +couple of good photographs for a shilling, cannot be considered dear. +In addition to this, there are twenty pages of letterpress—so altogether +it is a splendid shillingsworth. <span class="smcap">Baron de Book-Worms & Co.</span></p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Insanitary Dust-bins.</span>—That your +servants should have thrown half a lobster, several potted meat-tins, an +uneatable rabbit-pie, and all the vegetable refuse of your household, +into your dust-bin, and that it should not have been "attended to" for +upwards of two months, is quite sufficient to account for the +intolerable odour of which you and all your neighbours on that side of +the street have had reason to complain; but, as you seem to think +nothing but an epidemic fever, caused by the nuisance, will rouse the +Authorities, you might, by throwing in a pound or two of phosphate of +lime, the same quantity of copper shavings, and a gallon or so of nitric +acid, as you suggest, create such an intolerable stench, that something +would have to be done, and that without delay, to preserve your entire +neighbourhood from a visitation of the plague. Try it, by all means. In +the meantime have a notice, as you propose, put in your kitchen window, +to the effect that a champagne luncheon, and half-a-crown a head, will +be provided for the dustmen if they will only call. Failing this, you +might take the steps you seriously contemplate, with a view to marrying +into the dust-contractor's family. This, perhaps, coupled with a series +of urgent letters to the <i>Times</i>, would be your wisest course. But, +in the present unsatisfactory state of the law, it is difficult to know +how to advise you for the best. Your idea, if the worst comes to the +worst, and you cannot get the Vestry to attend to it, of blowing up your +dust-bin yourself with gunpowder, you might resort to as a last +expedient; but, as you seem to think it might bring down your portico, +and possibly the whole front of your house as well, we should advise you +not to put it into execution till <i>quite</i> assured that your +attempts to get your dust-bin emptied by some less violent means have +all hopelessly failed. Anyhow, try the copper shavings and nitric acid +first. We think you will find, if steadily persevered in, that they +will, coupled, possibly, with some legal proceedings, settle the matter +for you.</p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">More Glory.</span>—The fall of a fragment +of a chandelier has shed an additional lustre—or a portion of a +lustre—on the <i>Brav' Général</i>.</p> + +<hr class='short' /> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Quite the First +Bridge.</span>—The Forth +Bridge.</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg +58]</a></span></p> + +<div> +<a href='images/i-058.png'> +<img class='center' src="images/i-058th.png" width="470" height="600" +alt="" title="" /></a> + +<h3>THE GRAND OLD UNDERGRAD.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Gladstone's Visit to Oxford.</span>—It +has been stated in several papers that +Mr. <span class="smcap">Gladstone</span> intends to reside at All Souls' +College, Oxford, of which he is an Honorary Fellow, from January 30, +till the meeting of Parliament, on February 11. +Mr. <span class="smcap">Gladstone</span>, who, we believe, is going up +for quiet study, will occupy a set of College rooms.</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg +59]</a></span></p> + +<div> +<a href='images/i-059.png'> +<img class='center' src="images/i-059th.png" width="600" +height="390" alt="" title="" /></a> + +<h3>"ANNALS OF A QUIET PARISH."</h3> + +<p><i>The Vicar's Wife</i> (<i>to Country Tradesman</i>). +"<span class="smcap">Now, Hoskins, after so many years of our Liberal +Patronage, it was really too bad of you to send us such a +Globe—cracked from Top to Bottom——!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Vicar</i> (<i>calling from the Study-door at end of passage</i>). +"<span class="smcap">My Dear, did you recollect to send for Hoskins +about the Globe you had the little Accident with last week!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<h2>AN UNSCIENTIFIC DIALOGUE.</h2> + +<p class='center'>(<i>On a highly Uninteresting Topic.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>First Aspiring Political Economist</i> (<i>picking his way +cautiously</i>). What the Bimetallists maintain is this: that by fixing +an artificial ratio between the relative values of gold and silver, you +somehow (<i>a little vaguely</i>) keep up prices; and so, at +least,—so I fancy,—assist the circulation of capital. At all +events, that is what I take M. <span class="smcap">Emile de +Laveleye</span> to mean. (<i>Tentatively.</i>) You see that, don't +you?</p> + +<p><i>Second Aspiring Political Economist.</i> Not a bit of it. Why, +<span class="smcap">Emile de Laveleye</span> is an ass. (<i>Emphatically.</i>) <span class="smcap">Giffen</span> says so. +And you can't have a higher authority than <span class="smcap">Giffen</span> (<i>clinching the +matter</i>). Why, he's Hon. Assistant Deputy Secretary to the Board +of Commerce; (<i>with animation</i>) in fact, he says that all Bimetallists +are hopeless lunatics, and, in my opinion, he's about right.</p> + +<p><i>Third Aspiring Political Economist.</i> I don't see that at all. +But if you are going to settle the matter by merely quoting names, what +have you got to say to <span class="smcap">Foxwell</span>, the London +Professor? He's a Bimetallist, and no mistake.</p> + +<p><i>Second Aspiring Political Economist.</i> "Got to say?" Why, ask +<span class="smcap">Levin</span> of Cambridge what he thinks of him. <span class="smcap">Levin</span> backs up <span class="smcap">Giffen</span> +in every word he says, and I agree with both of them. How can you +have two standards? (<i>Explicitly.</i>) The thing is preposterous.</p> + +<p><i>First Aspiring Political Economist.</i> It is all very well to lay +down the law in that fashion, but it will not dispose of facts. You may +quote <span class="smcap">Giffen</span>, +or <span class="smcap">Levin</span>, or anyone you like, but they will +not be able to do away with the circumstance, that prices are regulated +by the quantity of money in circulation (<i>with a little +hesitation</i>); at least, that is what I understand the other side to +maintain.</p> + +<p><i>Second Aspiring Political Economist.</i> Sheer nonsense. How does +the quantity of money you possess affect the price you pay for a +commodity? The fact of your having twenty sovereigns in your purse won't +make your butcher charge you an extra halfpenny a pound for a leg of +mutton! That must be clear to any fool!</p> + +<p><i>First Aspiring Political Economist.</i> But you don't understand. +It's numbers that do it. They mean, if thirty millions of people, each +have twenty sovereigns a-piece in their purses (<i>doubtfully</i>), +<i>then</i>, I suppose, the butchers would raise the price of their meat. +At least, that's what I fancy they imply when they talk of an +"artificial currency" raising prices (<i>with some vagueness</i>), or is it +"artificial prices" creating an increased currency. I couldn't <i>quite</i> +follow them in this. But I am sure, whichever of the two views was +expressed by M. <span class="smcap">Emile de Laveleye</span>, that one had, no doubt, a +great deal of sound argument to back it.</p> + +<p><i>Third Aspiring Political Economist.</i> I think you miss the +point. Take an illustration. Say you arrive at a cannibal island with +ten thousand complete sets of evening dress clothes, and that another +ship, just before the arrival of yours, has taken the last +ten-pound-note off the island, how, supposing there was to be a native +rush to obtain one of your suits, would the absence of any money to pay +for them affect their market value? I mayn't have got it quite +correctly, but this, or something like it, is one of the cases that +<span class="smcap">Giffen</span> brings forward to prove his point. The matter, however, +appears to me to be a little complicated.</p> + +<p><i>Second Aspiring Political Economist.</i> Not in the least. It +proves the humbug of the Bimetallic position up to the hilt. Of course, +you must assume, that the cannibals desire to dress in evening clothes. +I confess that has to be considered, and then the question lies in a +nutshell. There can't be two opinions about it.</p> + +<p><i>First Aspiring Political Economist.</i> Well, to me, though, of +course, I am willing to admit there <i>may</i> be something in it, I +can't say that the matter is, at first sight, convincingly clear. +(<i>Candidly.</i>) My chief difficulty is, I confess, to arrive at any +definite conclusion with myself, as to what "Bimetallism" really means, +and what it does not; and I own I feel still vague as to the two +questions of the influence of the quantity of money on prices, or the +price of a commodity on the value of money respectively, and, though I +carefully read all that appears in the daily papers on the subject, I am +compelled to own that I do not seem to be nearer a solution of the +perplexing difficulty. However, it is, no doubt, a highly absorbing, if +not a very useful, subject for investigation.</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>Left investigating it as Curtain falls.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg +60]</a></span></p> + +<div class='flleft'> +<a href='images/i-060.png'> +<img src="images/i-060th.png" width="300" height="400" alt="" title="" /> +</a> +</div> + +<h2>MR. PUNCH'S MORAL MUSIC-HALL DRAMAS.</h2> + +<p class='center'>No. IV.</p> + +<p>Our present example is pure tragedy of the most ambitious kind, and +is, perhaps, a little in advance of the taste of a Music-hall audience +of the present day. When the fusion between the Theatres and the +Music-Halls is complete—when Miss <span class="smcap">Bessie +Bellwood</span> sings "<i>What Cheer, 'Ria?</i>" at the Lyceum, and +Mr. <span class="smcap">Henry Irving</span> gives his compressed version +of <i>Hamlet</i> at the Trocadero; when there is a general levelling-up +of culture, and removal of prejudice—then, and not till then, will +this powerful little play meet with the appreciation which is its due. +The main idea is suggested by the +Misses <span class="smcap">Taylor's</span> well-known poem, <i>The +Pin</i>, though the dramatist has gone further than the poetess in +working out the notion of Nemesis.</p> + +<h3 class='clear'>THE FATAL PIN.—<span class="smcap"><small>A Tragedy.</small></span></h3> + +<p class='center smcap'>Dramatis Personæ.</p> + +<p><i>Emily Heedless.</i> By either Miss <span class="smcap">Vesta +Tilley</span> or Mrs. <span class="smcap">Bernard Beere</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Peter Paragon.</i> Mr. <span class="smcap">Forbes Robertson</span> +or Mr. <span class="smcap">Arthur Roberts</span> (only he mustn't sing +"<i>The Good Young Man who Died</i>").</p> + +<p><i>First and Second Bridesmaids.</i> Miss <span class="smcap">Maude +Millett</span> and Miss +<span class="smcap">Annie Hughes</span>.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene.—Emily's</span> <i>Boudoir, +sumptuously furnished with a screen and sofa,</i> <span class="smcap +lower">C.</span> <i>Door,</i> <span class="smcap lower">R.</span>, +<i>leading to</i> <span class="smcap">Emily's</span> <i>Bed-chamber. +Door,</i> <span class="smcap +lower">L.</span> <span class="smcap">Emily</span> <i>discovered in loose +wrapper, and reclining in uncomfortable position on sofa.</i></p> + +<p><i>Emily</i> (<i>dreamily</i>). This day do I become the envied bride +of <span class="smcap">Peter</span>, justly surnamed +<span class="smcap">Paragon</span>; and much I wonder what in me he +found (he, who Perfection so personifies) that he could condescend an +eye to cast on faulty, feather-headed +<span class="smcap">Emily</span>! How solemn is the stillness all around +me! (<i>A loud bang is heard behind screen.</i>) Methought I heard the +dropping of a pin!—perhaps I should arise and search for it.... +Yet why, on second thoughts, disturb myself, since I am, by my +settlements, to have a handsome sum allowed for pin-money? Nay, since +thou claim'st thy freedom, little pin, I lack the heart to keep thee +prisoner. Go, then, and join the great majority of fallen, vagrant, +unregarded pinhood—my bliss is too supreme at such an hour to heed +such infidelities as thine.</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>Falls into a happy reverie.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Enter</i> First and Second +Bridesmaids.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>First and Second Bridesmaids.</i> What, how +now, <span class="smcap">Emily</span>—not yet attired? Nay, haste, +for <span class="smcap">Peter</span> will be here anon!</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>They hurry her off +by</i> <span class="smcap lower">R.</span> <i>door, just +as</i> <span class="smcap">Peter +Paragon</span> <i>enters</i> <span class="smcap lower">L.</span> <i>in +bridal array. N.B.—The exigences of the Drama are responsible for +his making his appearance here, instead of waiting, as is more usual, at +the church.</i></p> + +<p><i>Peter</i> (<i>meditatively</i>). The golden sands of my celibacy +are running low—soon falls the final grain! Yet, even now, the +glass I would not turn. My <span class="smcap">Emily</span> is not +without her faults—"<i>was</i> not without them," I should rather +say, for during ten idyllic years of courtship, by precept and example I +have striven to mould her to a helpmate fit for me. Now, thank the Gods, +my labours are complete—she stands redeemed from all her +giddiness! (<i>Here he steps upon the pin, and utters an +exclamation</i>). Ha! what is this? I'm wounded ... agony! With what a +darting pain my foot's transfixed! I'll summon help (<i>with calm +courage</i>)—yet, stay, I would not dim this nuptial day by any +sombre cloud. I'll bear this stroke alone—and now to probe the +full extent of my calamity. (<i>Seats himself on sofa in such a position +as to be concealed by the screen from all but the audience, and proceeds +to remove his boot.</i>) Ye powers of Perfidy, it is a pin! I must know +more of this—for it is meet such criminal neglect should be +exposed. Severe shall be that house-maid's punishment who's proved to be +responsible for this!—but soft, I hear a step.</p> + +<p class='ralign' style='margin:1% 5%;'>[<i>Enter</i> First <i>and</i> +Second Bridesmaids, <i>who hunt diligently upon the carpet without +observing</i> <span class="smcap">Peter</span>'s <i>presence.</i></p> + +<p><i>Emily's Voice</i> (<i>within</i>). Oh, search, I pray you. +It <i>must</i> be there—my own ears heard it fall!</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<span class="smcap">Peter</span> <i>betrays growing uneasiness.</i></p> + +<p><i>The Bridesmaids.</i> Indeed, we fail to see it anywhere!</p> + +<p><i>Emily</i> (<i>entering distractedly in bridal costume, with a +large rent in her train</i>). You have no eyes, I tell you, let me help. +It must be found, or I am all undone! In vain my cushion I have cut in +two—'twas void of all but stuffing.... Gracious Heavens, to think +that all my future bliss depends on the evasive malice of a pin!</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<span class="smcap">Peter</span> <i>behind screen, +starts violently.</i></p> + +<p><i>Peter</i> (<i>aside</i>). A pin! what dire misgivings wring my +heart! (<i>Hops forward with a cold dignity, holding one foot in his +hand.</i>) You seem in some +excitement, <span class="smcap">Emily</span>?</p> + +<p><i>Emily</i> +(<i>wildly</i>). <i>You</i>, <span class="smcap">Peter</span>!... tell +me—have you found a pin?</p> + +<p><i>Peter</i> (<i>with deadly calm</i>). Unhappy +girl—I <i>have</i>! (<i>To</i> Bridesmaids.) Withdraw awhile, and +when we need you, we will summon you. (<i>Exeunt</i> +Bridesmaids; <span +class="smcap">Emily</span> <i>and</i> <span +class="smcap">Peter</span> <i>stand facing each other for some moments +in dead silence.</i>) The pin is found—for I have trodden on it, +and may, for aught I know, be lamed for life. +Speak, <span class="smcap">Emily</span>, what is that maid's desert +whose carelessness has led to this mishap?</p> + +<p><i>Emily</i> (<i>in the desperate hope of shielding herself</i>). +Why, should the fault be traced to any maid, instant dismissal shall be +her reward, with a month's wages paid in lieu of notice!</p> + +<p><i>Peter</i> (<i>with a passionless severity</i>). From your own lips +I judge you, <span class="smcap">Emily</span>. Did they not own just now +that you had heard the falling of a pin—yet heeded not? Behold the +outcome of your negligence!</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>Extends his injured foot.</i></p> + +<p><i>Emily.</i> Oh, let me kiss the place and make it well!</p> + +<p><i>Peter</i> (<i>coldly withdrawing foot</i>). Keep your caresses +till I ask for them. My wound goes deeper than you wot of yet, and by +that disregarded pin is pricked the iridescent bubble of Illusion!</p> + +<p><i>Emily</i> (<i>slowly</i>). Indeed, I do not wholly comprehend.</p> + +<p><i>Peter.</i> Have patience and I will be plainer yet. Mine is a +complex nature, <span class="smcap">Emily</span>; magnanimous, but still +methodical. An injury I freely can forgive, forget it—(<i>striking +his chest</i>)—never! She who leaves about pins on the floor to +pierce a lover's foot, will surely plant a thorn within the side of him +whose fate it is to be her husband!</p> + +<p><i>Emily</i> (<i>dragging herself towards him on her knees</i>). Have +pity on me, <span class="smcap">Peter</span>; I was mad!</p> + +<p><i>Peter</i> (<i>with emotion</i>). How can I choose but pity thee, +poor soul, who, for the sake of temporary ease, hast forfeited the bliss +that had been thine! You could not stoop to pick a pin up. Why? Because, +forsooth, 'twas but a paltry pin! Yet, duly husbanded, that self-same +pin had served you to secure your gaping train, your +self-respect—and Me.</p> + +<p><i>Emily</i> (<i>wailing</i>). What have I done?</p> + +<p><i>Peter.</i> I will not now reproach +you, <span class="smcap">Emily</span>, nor would I dwell upon my wounded +sole, the pain of which increases momently. I part from you in +friendship, and in proof, that fated instrument I leave with you +(<i>presenting her with the pin, which she accepts mechanically</i>) +which the frail link between us twain has severed. I can dispense with +it, for in my cuff (<i>shows her his coat-cuff, in which a row of +pins'-heads is perceptible</i>) I carry others 'gainst a time of need. +My poor success in life I trace to this—that never yet I passed a +pin unheeded.</p> + +<p><i>Emily.</i> And is that all you have to say to me?</p> + +<p><i>Peter.</i> I think so—save that I shall wish you well, and +pray that henceforth you may bear in mind what vast importance lies in +seeming trifles.</p> + +<p><i>Emily</i> (<i>with a pale +smile</i>). <span class="smcap">Peter</span>, your lesson is already +learned, for precious has this pin become for me, since by its aid I +gain oblivion—thus!</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>Stabs herself.</i></p> + +<p><i>Peter</i> (<i>coldly</i>). Nay, these are +histrionics, <span class="smcap">Emily</span>.</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>Assists her to sofa.</i></p> + +<p><i>Emily.</i> I'd skill enough to find a vital spot. Do not withdraw +it yet—my time is short, and I have much to say before I die. +(<i>Faintly.</i>) Be gentle with my rabbits when I'm gone; give my +canary chickweed now and then.... I think there is no more—ah, one +last word—(<i>warmly</i>)—warn them they must not cut our +wedding-cake, and then the pastrycook may take it back!</p> + +<p><i>Peter</i> (<i>deeply moved</i>). Would you had shown this +thoughtfulness before!</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>Kneels by the sofa.</i></p> + +<p><i>Emily.</i> 'Tis now too late, and clearly do I see that I was +never worthy of you, <span class="smcap">Peter</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Peter</i> (<i>gently</i>). 'Tis not for me to contradict you now. +You did your best to be so, <span class="smcap">Emily</span>!</p> + +<p><i>Emily.</i> A blessing on you for those generous words! Now tell +me, <span class="smcap">Peter</span>, how is your poor foot?</p> + +<p><i>Peter.</i> The agony decidedly abates, and I can bear a boot +again.</p> + +<p><i>Emily.</i> Then I die happy!... Kiss +me, <span class="smcap">Peter</span> ... ah!</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>Dies.</i></p> + +<p><i>Peter.</i> In peace she passed away. I'm glad of that, although +that peace was purchased by a lie. I shall not bear a boot for many +days! Thus ends our wedding morn, and she, poor child, has paid the +penalty of heedlessness!</p> + +<p class='ralign'>[<i>Curtain falls, whereupon, unless Mr. Punch is +greatly mistaken, there will not be a dry eye in the house.</i></p> + +<hr class='half' /> + +<blockquote><p>NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, +whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, +will in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and +Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. 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index 0000000..6ed389e --- /dev/null +++ b/22051-page-images/p058.png diff --git a/22051-page-images/p059.png b/22051-page-images/p059.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..038b1d6 --- /dev/null +++ b/22051-page-images/p059.png diff --git a/22051-page-images/p060.png b/22051-page-images/p060.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..864b39c --- /dev/null +++ b/22051-page-images/p060.png diff --git a/22051.txt b/22051.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4b3dce8 --- /dev/null +++ b/22051.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1749 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98, +February 1, 1890, 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. 98, February 1, 1890 + + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis Burnand + +Release Date: July 12, 2007 [eBook #22051] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, +VOL. 98, FEBRUARY 1, 1890*** + + +E-text prepared by V. L. Simpson, Malcolm Farmer, 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 22051-h.htm or 22051-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/0/5/22051/22051-h/22051-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/0/5/22051/22051-h.zip) + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI + +VOL. 98 + +FEBRUARY 1, 1890 + + + + + + + + [Illustration] + +UNTILED; OR, THE MODERN ASMODEUS. + + "Tres volontiers," repartit le demon. "Vous aimez les + tableaux changeans: je veux vous contenter." + + _Le Diable Boiteux._ + +XVIII. + + "'MRS. MAECENAS!' So some would-be wit + Dubbed the fair dame. The title may not fit + With accurate completeness; + It soars some shades too high, this modish _mot_, + As 'Mrs. LYON-HUNTER' sinks too low; + Both nick-names fail in neatness. + + "The '_acu tetigisti_,' tribute rare, + Not oft is earned, in Fleet Street or Mayfair, + In these hot days of hurry. + _Salons_, Symposia, both have met their doom, + And wit, in the Victorian drawing-room, + Finds a fell foe in flurry." + + So spake the Shadow, with the covert sneer + That struck so coldly on the listening ear. + Soft was his speech, as muffled + By some chill atmosphere surcharged with snow, + In unemphatic accents, level, low, + Unhasting and unruffled. + + "Mrs. MAECENAS, then, no HORACE finds + In all her muster of superior minds, + Her host of instant heroes? + That's hard!" I said. "She does not greatly care," + My guide rejoined. "Behold her seated there! + Her court's as full as NERO'S. + + "SENECA stands beside her. He's a prim, + Sententious sage. If she is bored by him, + The lady doth not show it. + But there's a furtive glancing of her eye + Toward the entry. There comes MARX M'KAY, + The Socialistic Poet. + + "His lyric theories mean utter smash + To all his hostess cares for. Crude and rash, + But musically 'precious.' + His passionate philippics against Wealth + Mammon's own daughters read, 'tis said, by stealth, + And vote them 'quite delicious!' + + "All that makes life worth living to the throng + Of worshippers who mob this Son of Song, + Money, Monopoly, Merriment, + He bans and blazes at in 'Dirae' dread; + But then they know his Muse is merely Red + In metrical experiment. + + "Well-dressed and well-to-do, the flaming Bard + Finds life in theory only harsh and hard. + His _chevelure_ looks shaggy, + But his black broad-cloth's glossy and well-brushed, + And he'd feel wretched if his tie were crushed, + His trousers slightly baggy. + + "KARL MARX in metre or LASSALLE in verse, + The vampire-horde of Capital he'll curse, + And praise the Proletariat; + But having thus delivered his bard-soul, + He finds it, practically, nice to loll + With DIVES in his chariot. + + "Lyrical Communism will not fright + Those 'Molochs of the Mart' this Son of Light + Keeps his poetic eye on. + 'Who takes a Singer _au grand serieux_?' + Mrs. MAECENAS asks. So he's on view, + Her Season's latest lion. + + "But not alone," I said. "If all this host + Are right authentic Leos, she must boast + As potent charm as CIRCE'S. + What is her wand? Is't wit, or wealth, or both?" + "Listen! That's MUMPS the mimic, nothing loth, + Rolling out VAMPER'S verses! + + "VAMPER looks on and smiles with veiled delight. + Boredom's best friends are fellows who recite. + None like, not many listen, + But all must make believe to stand about + And watch a man gesticulate and shout, + With eyes that glare and glisten. + + "'Tis hard indeed to hold in high esteem + The man who mouths out _Eugene Aram's Dream_ + In guttural tones and raucous. + All these have heard a hundred times before + Young Vox, the vain and ventriloquial bore + They'd fain despatch to Orcus. + + "So have they listened many and many a time + To little JINKS, the jerky comic mime, + And his facetious chatter. + But ill would fare Town's guest if he refused + For the five hundredth time to be 'amused' + By gush, or cockney patter. + + "HORACE'S _Piso_ were a pleasant chum + Compared with slangy laureates of the slum. + Hist! There's a tenor twitter, + A tremulous twangle of the minor strings. + 'Tis SERAPHIN, sleek Amateur, who sings, + 'Glide where the moonbeams glitter!' + + "'To puling girls that listen and adore + Your love-lorn chants and woful wailings pour!' + Sang HORACE to HERMOGENES. + SERAPHIN'S a TIGELLIUS, and his style + Would bring the bland Venusian's scornful smile + The scowl of sour DIOGENES. + + "'Twere 'breaking butterflies upon the wheel' + To let such fribbles feel the critic steel + With scalpel-like severity? + Granted! But will no pangs the victims urge + To abate that plague of bores, which is the scourge + Of social insincerity? + + "Wisdom is here, and Wit, Talent and Taste: + The latest wanderer from the Tropic Waste, + Sun-bronzed and care-lined, saunters + In cheery chat with mild-faced MIRABEL, + Who with Romance's wildest weirdest spell + Has witched your Mudie-haunters. + + "Colossal BAYARD, _beau-sabreur_, whose blade + A dozen desert spearmen faced and stayed, + Stoops his high-shoulder'd stature + To hear the twittering tones of Tiny TIM, + A midget, but the soul of whit and whim, + The genius of good-nature. + + "Boy-faced, but virile, vigorous, and a peer, + Lord MOSSMORE talks with VIOLET DE VERE, + The latest light of Fiction; + Steadily-rising statesman, season's star! + Calmly he hears, though Caste's keen instincts jar, + Her strained self-conscious diction. + + "MELDRUM, the modish _medico_, laughs low + At ruddy RASPER'S keenly-whispered _mot_-- + RASPER, a soul all strictures, + Holds the great world a field for sketchy chaff. + Many love not the man, but how they laugh + At his swift, scathing pictures! + + "Wits of all grades, and Talents of all sorts, + With rival beauties holding separate courts, + Find here parade, employment. + And yet, and yet, they all look cross, or tired; + Your cultured city has not yet acquired + The art of true enjoyment. + + "Strange! London's poor find pleasure far too dear, + But here, with wealth, and wit, and charm, and cheer, + All should go _so_ delightfully. + Time gay as in the Golden Age should fleet, + But the most brilliant stars in Babylon meet, + And--bore each other frightfully." + +(_To be continued._) + + * * * * * + +IN THE NAME OF CHARITY--GO TO PRISON! + +LAST week _Mr. Punch_ asked, "Oh, where, and oh where, is The Public +Prosecutor?" and he has received an answer. It appears that the official +has been recently engaged (his letter is dated the 30th of November) in +suppressing an "illegal scheme" to aid the funds of the North-West +London Hospital. It appears that, with a view to increasing the revenue +of that most deserving charity, it was arranged to treat some presents +that had been made to the Institution as "prizes," to be given to those +who sent donations to the hospital. There was to be a "drawing," which +was to be duly advertised in the daily papers. But this could not be +tolerated. Sir A. K. STEPHENSON, Solicitor to Her Majesty's Treasury, +after denouncing the scheme in the terms above set forth, informed the +Secretary of the Hospital, "that all persons concerned therein subjected +themselves to the penalties imposed by the Acts passed for the +suppression of illegal lotteries." Well, the law is the law, and it +would never do for _Mr. Punch_ to dispute the point with so learned a +gentleman as Sir A. K. STEPHENSON--the more especially as Sir A. K. S. +has just been patented a Q.C.--but if the Public Prosecutor can stop +"illegal schemes" for benefiting the sick, why can he not also deal with +the professional perjurers, suborners of witnesses, and fabricators of +false evidence? _Mr. Punch_ pauses for a reply, but is disinclined to +pause much longer! + + * * * * * + +OUR TURN NOW.--An excited paragraph in the morning papers announces that +"two Doctors of Vienna have succeeded in discovering the Influenza +_bacillus_ after a series of experiments in the Chemical and +Physiological Laboratory of the University." This is capital. Hitherto +the Influenza _bacillus_ has discovered _us_. Now the tables are turned, +and the question is, What shall we do with our prize? A little +transaction in boiling lead might not be bad to begin with. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: AN OLD FABLE. + + _Frog._ "I MEAN TO BE AS BIG AS YOU, ONE DAY, AND + SWALLOW YOU UP. BUST IF I DON'T!"] + + * * * * * + +A "FISH OUT OF WATER" AT GREENWICH. + +In a not very wise speech delivered while presiding at the opening of a +new series of lectures in connection with the Greenwich Branch of the +Society for the Extension of University Teaching, Lord WOLSELEY modestly +admitted "that whatever information he had acquired in life had been +acquired from the ordinary penny newspaper which he had read day by +day." No doubt this rather humiliating fact accounts for the florid +style of the proclamations "Our Only General" used to publish in Egypt +and elsewhere--proclamations at the time recognised as having the tone +of Astley's in the good old days of the _Battle of Waterloo_ and other +military melodramas. However, if it pleases Lord WOLSELEY to give +materials for a future biography, that is no one's concern but his own. +Unfortunately he touched upon another matter, about which he knows +evidently very little, if anything at all. His Lordship spoke in very +disrespectful terms of what he called the "Shilling Dreadful," which, he +declared (in this instance accurately enough), was "prized by many +people." Certainly the novelette is more popular than _The Soldier's +Pocket-book_, although both _brochures_ are equally works of +imagination. So it should be, considering that amongst the authors who +have produced it have been WILKIE COLLINS, HUGH CONWAY, F. ANSTEY, +ROBERT BUCHANAN, GRANT ALLEN, WALTER BESANT, RHODA BROUGHTON, and others +equally well known to fame. He concluded by remarking, "that if men of +all politics were to be shaken up in a bag, he believed there would be +very little difference between them." Quite true, if the bag were shaken +sufficiently long to complete the transformation--but it would be rather +a brutal experiment! + + * * * * * + +A PAGE FROM A DIARY. + +(_Purely Imaginary._) + +_First Week._--Now let me see what I have to do. I will leave out of +consideration my extra-parliamentary utterances--they will take care of +themselves. Shan't forget _them_. But other matters. Well, I have to +turn the works of my dear old friend ALF TENNYSON into Greek--of course, +omitting certain highly injudicious lines of a reactionary character. +Then I must read through the last edition of the _Encyclopaedia +Britannica_. No skipping, but go through _every_ article thoroughly and +conscientiously. Then, of course, there is Grand Day at Gray's Inn. Must +_not_ forget that. Should like, above all things, to be present. Now let +me see that I have got the date all right. Yes, I remember. Grand Day, +Hilary Term. Falls on a Thursday. I shan't forget. + +_Second Week._--Translation of TENNYSON into Greek going on famously. +Not had time to cut down any trees, so busy have I been. Got as far as +"Foghorn" in _Encyclopaedia Britannica_. New edition a very good one. +Glad I made up my mind to read it. Let me see, anything else? Why, to be +sure, Grand Day at Gray's Inn! Rather cut off my hand or even my head, +than forget _that_! Treasurer particularly nice man. So are all the +Benchers. So are all the Barristers and the Students. Excellent fellows, +all of them--yes, excellent. So must not forget Grand Day at Gray's Inn. +To be sure. Falls on a Thursday. + +_Third Week._--_A. T._ progressing nicely. Little difficulty about the +translation of the _Northern Farmer_. Rather awkward to give the proper +weight of a country dialect in Greek. However, it reads very well, +indeed! Think my dear old friend ALF will be pleased with it; he should +be, as it has given me a good deal of trouble. However, all's well that +ends well. _E. B._ also satisfactory. Got into the "D's." Article upon +the "Docks," scarcely exhaustive enough to please me, so have been +reading some other books upon the same subject. Forgotten nothing? No, +because I remember I have to dine at Gray's Inn. Yes, to be sure--23rd +of January. Grand Day. Hilary Term. Falls on a Thursday. Would not +forget it to save my election! Looking forward to the port. Excellent +port at Gray's Inn, I am told. Well, well, I shall be there! I don't +believe much in artificial memory, but to assist my recollection, I have +tied knots in all my pocket-handkerchiefs. Wouldn't forget the fixture +for a kingdom. Falls on a Thursday. + +_Fourth Week._--Finished Greek translation of TENNYSON'S Poems. Very +pleased with the result. Must send a copy to dear old ALF. Perhaps it +might suggest to him that it would be a graceful compliment in return to +translate all my speeches into Latin verse. Dear old friend! There is +not another man to whom I would entrust such a task with equal +heartiness. He would do it _so_ well. Must look up my earlier orations. +If ALF does _any_ of it, he should do it _all_. I do not believe in half +measures. Nearly finished the _E. B._ Article upon "Music" very +interesting. "Pigs" not so good; however "Wheel-barrows" excellent and +exhaustive. Rather angry to find knots in my handkerchiefs, &c., until I +suddenly remembered they were to remind me of my engagement to dine at +Gray's Inn. To be sure. Grand Day, Hilary Term. Falls on a Thursday. +Sure to be a delightful evening. Several of my young Irish friends are +members of the Society. I am looking forward to it _so_ much. Useful +things, knots. Remembered it at once! Tie them again. Also put _grey_ +wideawake hat over clock in my study. That will remind me of _Gray's_ +Inn. Falls on a Thursday! + +_Last Week._--There, now I can come to this book with a clear +conscience. Done everything. Greek translation of TENNYSON ready for +press. Finished letter "Z" last night, in final volume of the +_Encyclopaedia Britannica_. Nothing omitted. Rather annoyed to find +someone has been tying knots in my handkerchief. Hate practical jokes! +Careless person, too, has been hanging my old grey wideawake on the +clock in my study. Rather a liberty! Don't like liberties. Always +courteous to _everybody_--consequently, expect _everybody_ to be +courteous to _me_! Still, can't help smiling. It _was_ a quaint idea to +hang my old wideawake on the clock in my study. I wonder what put such a +freak into the joker's head! Now let me look at the paper that has just +reached me from London. Dear me, "The Vacant Chair." That seems a good +title. And all about Gray's Inn! Now, I like Gray's Inn--a most +excellent place; everyone connected with it great friends of mine. And +writing of Gray's Inn, that reminds me--Good gracious! Why, last night +was Thursday, and I forgot to be there!!! + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: REFRESHMENTS IN VOGUE. + + "QUININE OR ANTIPYRINE, MY LADY?"] + + * * * * * + +MENU-BETTING. + +GENTLEMEN who bet on every event in life--who cut cards to decide +whether they shall go into the City by cab or by underground train, and +toss up to see whether they had better dine at home or at the Club, may +be interested to know of a new game of chance which can be played at +dinnertime, and in which ladies not only may but must take part. +"Betting on the _menu_" it is called; and it is done in this way. You +ask the lady next to you on the right--the one you have taken in to +dinner--permission to speculate as to what dishes she will choose from +among those inscribed on the _menu_; and you back your selection in a +series of bets either with the lady herself, or--if she happens not to +be what the French call "_sportive_"--with any gentleman who may be +willing to do business with you. Suppose the lady takes you? You make a +pencil-mark against each dish which, it seems to you, she will fancy; +and if you are right more often than you are wrong, you win--and the +lady does not pay you. In the contrary case you lose--and you pay the +lady. It need scarcely be said that you annotate your own copy of the +_menu_, and that the lady does not see it until the dinner is at an end. +The same principle is observed in betting with a gentleman in reference +to a lady's probable selection; but in this latter case neither of the +parties interested is at liberty to express any opinion, directly or +indirectly, as to the merits or demerits of the different dishes from +which the lady has to choose. Any member of the unfair sex may make sure +of winning from her antagonist--who will naturally have marked a certain +number of dishes--by simply abstaining from food throughout the dinner; +though the lady of the house might think this impolite. _Menu_-betting +is in any case an agreeable pastime for both sexes. It promotes +digestion; and any woman of moderate ability may make money by it. + + * * * * * + +"MORE LIGHT!"--The British Museum is, it appears, presently to be opened +at night, its (Elgin) marble halls and others being illuminated with the +electric light. Concurrently with this happy event Mr. LOUIS FAGAN, of +the Departments of Prints and Drawings, announces a course of three +popular lectures on the Treasures of the Museum, to be delivered next +month at the Steinway Hall. No one knows more about the Museum than Mr. +FAGAN, and, with the assistance of 170 photographic reproductions, +exhibited by oxyhydrogen light, he will teach the public a thing or two +about its foundation, progress, and present contents. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: PHENOMENAL. + + NEAR-SIGHTED MAN IN CHURCH, INSPECTING SHAM INSECT ON + LADY'S BONNET. HE IS SO EXCITED BY THE DISCOVERY, THAT + HE HURRIES OUT OF CHURCH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE SERVICE, + IN ORDER TO WRITE TO THE PAPERS TO ANNOUNCE THE SUDDEN + APPEARANCE OF A MAGNIFICENT SPECIMEN OF THE LARGE + TORTOISE-SHELL BUTTERFLY ON OUR SHORES IN MID-JANUARY, + AS A PROOF OF THE MILDNESS OF THE CLIMATE.] + + * * * * * + +AMONG THE AMATEURS. + +No. IV.--RETROSPECT. + + SCENE--_A large Room, in which Guests are assembling + previous to a Supper in honour of a Great Actor, who is + about to leave for a tour to the United States. There + has been a magnificent farewell performance, in which + the Great Actor has surpassed himself. The public has + shown unparalleled enthusiasm; the G. A. has appeared + before the Curtain, and in a voice choked with emotion + has assured his audience that the one thing that + sustains him at this trying moment is the prospect of + seeing them all again when he returns._ + + TIME--11.45 P.M. _The Room is full of histrionic, + literary, and artistic Celebrities, with a few stray + Barristers and Doctors, who like to show publicly that + in spite of the arduous labours of their professions, + they can enjoy a mild dissipation as well as any man. + Most of the leading lights of the "Thespian + Perambulators,"_ BOLDERO, TIFFINGTON SPINKS, GUSHBY, + ANDREW JARP, _and_ HALL, _have come to prove by their + presence the sympathy of the Amateur Stage. On the last + night but one they had concluded their series of + performances at Blankbury. The Chairman of the Banquet + is a middle-aged Peer, who is a regular attendant at + first nights, and occupies a subordinate office in the + Ministry. The Guest of the Evening has not yet arrived. + A buzz of conversation fills the air. The Secretary of + the Banquet, an actor, is anxiously hurrying about with + a list, on which he ticks off names._ + +_The Secretary_ (_to_ BOLDERO). So glad all you fellows have been able +to come. I've put you pretty well together, as you wished. I wonder +where--oh! here he is at last. + + _Enter Great Actor. The Secretary rushes to him. + Hand-shakings and congratulations all round. The G. A. + moves up the room to where the Amateurs are standing._ + +_G. A._ (_shaking hands._) Ah! this is really friendly, TIFFINGTON, +really friendly. Were you in front to-night? + +_Tiffington._ Of course we were. We wouldn't have missed it for a +thousand pounds. It went first class. I thought your idea of stabbing +ALPHONSO from behind instead of in front, was a genuine inspiration. + +_G. A._ Approbation from Sir HUBERT. (_Bows and leaves quotation +unfinished_). But I've always played it like that, I think. + + [_Supper is announced. The Guests troop in to the + supper-room._ + +_Tiffington_ (_to_ JARP, _as they walk in_). He's wrong there. Never did +it like that before; and, after all, I'm not sure it is such an +improvement. But if you don't praise these fellows they never forgive +you. + +_Jarp._ Didn't he say anything about our show at Blankbury? I thought +you wrote to him about it. + +_Tiffington._ So I did; wrote specially to tell him how well things had +gone off. But you might just as well try to pump wine out of a +pillar-box, as expect a word of sympathy or encouragement from a +professional. They're all the same. + + [_They take their seats,_ TIFFINGTON _and_ JARP _on one + side of the table, the other three opposite them. The + supper begins._ + +_Friend of the G. A._ (_on_ TIFFINGTON's _right_). Splendid performance, +was it not? I never saw him in finer form in my life. It's quite +impossible to imagine anything more dignified and pathetic than his +death-scene. + +_Tiffington_ (_dubiously_). Hum! Yes. I'm not sure I should do it like +that quite. What do you say, GUSHBY? + +_Gushby._ It's not my idea at all. He spins it out far too long. I +should like to see you act that, TIFF. + +_Tiffington_ (_complacently_). Ah, well, so you might if things were +managed with common fairness. But (_bitterly_) you know well enough +there's a regular conspiracy against me. (_To Friend of G. A._) Now, of +course, you've read the notices of our performance of _Heads or Tails_? +Yes. I thought you had. Well, you _must_ have observed, that I don't get +more than two lines in any one of them, not a word more than two lines +upon my soul, and yet any fool knows that my part was the chief one. But +there you are. The beggars daren't abuse me. They know the public won't +stand that, so, just to spite me, they try to leave me out. But they're +very much mistaken if they think I care. Pooh! I snap my fingers at them +and their wretched conspiracy. + + [_Snaps them, and drinks moodily. The supper proceeds. + Conversation everywhere ranges over all kinds of + topics,--literature, art, the drama, the political + situation, the last Divorce Case. The Amateurs continue + to discuss themselves._ + +_Jarp_ (_to_ BOLDERO). Did you see that infamous notice in _The +Moonbeam_? Just like that rascal PENFOLD. He can't help showing his +jealousy, because we never asked him to join the Perambulators. + +_Boldero._ Yes. There you have it in a nutshell. I tell you what it is, +we shall have to exclude all critics from our show in future. + +_Tiffington._ Ah! that would punish them--and serve them right, too. Are +you going to sing to-night, HALL? + +_Hall_ (_with a sigh of resignation_). I suppose I shall have to. I told +BATTERDOWN I should be ready, if wanted. + +_Jarp._ Have you got anything new? + +_Hall._ Rather. Something particularly neat, I think. I call it "_The +Super at Supper_." It goes like this:-- + + [_Hums to his friends, who listen with rapt attention, + occasionally interchanging glances expressive of + enthusiastic admiration._ + + I once knew a Super, a festive soul, + Who quaffed champagne from a brimming bowl, + And all night long as he quaffed he sang, + "The Dukes may swing, and the Earls go hang, + And the Duchesses, 'drat 'em, may go and be blowed; + They've all been there, and they know the road-- + They're slaves, but the Super who sups is free-- + Oh! the Super's life is the life for me! + + _Chorus._ + + With a hey-diddle-diddle and fiddle-di-dee, + Oh! the supping Super's the man for me!" + +_Spinks, Boldero, Gushby, Jarp_ (_with enthusiasm_). My dear +fellow, that's immense. + +_Hill._ Yes, it's not bad. There are six verses, some of them even +better than that. + + [_The Chairman rises to propose the only toast of the + evening, "Success to the Great Actor who is about to + leave us for a short time." The usual + speech--reminiscent, anecdotic, prophetic of tremendous + triumphs, mildly humorous, pathetic._ + +_The Chairman_ (_concluding_). Therefore I bid you all charge your +glasses as full of wine as your hearts are full of sympathy, and join me +in wishing success to the Great Man, who is about to cull new laurels in +a foreign land. + + [_Roars of applause. Immense enthusiasm. The Great Actor + responds. He is moved to tears. He assures his friends, + that wherever he may go his heart will ever turn fondly + to them. Great cheering._ + +_Tiffington_ (_puffing his cigar_). Not so bad. I always said he could +speak better than he could act. + + [_The supper concludes._ HALL _has not been asked to + sing._ + +_Friend of Great Actor_ (_departing, to_ TIFFINGTON). It's been a +splendid evening, hasn't it? + +_Tiffington_ (_putting on his coat_). Yes. Pretty fair. (_To_ HALL.) +Sorry for you, old chap. But the song will keep. + +_Hall._ Keep? Oh, yes, it'll keep. I'll make it red-hot for the lot of +'em, and sing it at Blankbury next year. They won't like that, I rather +think. + +_Jarp._ No, by Gad! + + [_Exeunt omnes._ + + * * * * * + +THE SHREWING OF THE TAME. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH, + +MR. F. R. BENSON deserves commendation for a new idea. SHAKSPEARE has +been presented in many forms, but the notion of giving the Bard without +any acting to speak of is a novelty. And it is not quite certain that it +is a mistake. After all, a bad actor is an infliction, and it is better +to have gentlemen who have not spent centuries in mastering the +intricacies of their profession than a noisy personage who tears his +passions to atoms. The recent revivals of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ +and the _Taming of the Shrew_ at the Globe Theatre show how pleasing +Shakspearian representations may be made, even when their success +depends less upon elocution than scenic effect. The first of these plays +was simply delightful, with its fairy glades and "built-up" temples. The +last, too, is well off for "cloths," pleasingly representing Padua and +Verona. The performers (with the exception of Mr. STEPHEN PHILLIPS, who +speaks his lines with admirable effect) are not so noticeable. One of +the best-played parts in the piece is filled by an actor whose name does +not appear in the programme. He has nothing to do but to carry off +_Katherina_ (Mrs. F. R. BENSON), in Sc. 5., Act III., on his back. That +he looks like an ass while doing this goes without saying, but still he +is a valuable addition to the cast. From an announcement in the +programme, it appears that _Othello_, _Hamlet_, and the _Merchant of +Venice_ are shortly to be played. It seems at the first blush a +difficult task to pick out of Mr. BENSON'S present company a gentleman +quite suited to fill the title _roles_ in the two first, and _Shylock_ +in the last. But, no doubt, the Lessee and Manager thinks the playing of +the characters of the Prince of Denmark and the Moor a matter of minor +importance. And, if he does, it may be argued, from the cordial +reception that has been accorded to _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ and the +_Taming of the Shrew_, that he has an excellent reason for his opinion. + + Believe me, yours truly, + ONE WHO IS EASILY PLEASED. + + * * * * * + +HOW TO MEET IT. + +SIR,--Having read all the letters that have appeared in the papers +suggesting a treatment for the prevailing epidemic, I have got, perhaps, +a little confused; but, on the whole, the following is the course, as +far as I can make out, that it would be prudent to pursue on finding +oneself threatened with any of the well-known symptoms. Immediately get +into a warm bath several degrees hotter than you can possibly bear it, +then get out again. Now go to bed, send for your family solicitor, and +make your will, meantime trying every half hour half a tumbler or so of +any patent medicine the advertisement of which occurs to you. Call in a +homoeopathic doctor, and give his system a turn for four-and-twenty +hours; then send for your own medical man. Take care that they do not +meet on the stairs. Take anything and everything he gives you for the +next eight-and-forty hours, interspersing his prescriptions with +frequent tumblers of hot and steaming ammoniated quinine-and-water, +getting down at the same time more beef tea, oysters, champagne, +muffins, mince-pies, oranges, nuts, and whiskey than, under ordinary +circumstances, you feel would be good for you. Continue the above +treatment for a couple of months. This is what I am going to try, if I +am down with it. As I said above, it is, if a little complicated, sure +to be all right, for I have got every item of it from a careful perusal +of those infallible guides and directors in all modern difficulties and +doubts, + + THE DAILY PAPERS. + + * * * * * + +KICKED! + +(_By the Foot of Clara Groomley._) + +CHAPTER II. + +I am still at Ryde, and it is still raining. On a day like this, a +little Ryde goes a great way. No Ryde without rain. _Telle est la vie._ +The young girls at Plumfields sit writing themes indoors instead of +taking their exercise in the open air. + + [Illustration] + +If this rain keeps on, I shall go to wild Assam again, or to the Goodwin +Sands. JAMES, the headwaiter, has told me thirteen different stories of +the haunted room of this hotel. None of them are amusing, or +interesting, or have anything to do with this tale. If I were writing a +shilling volume, I should put them in by way of padding. As it is, they +may go out. I too will go out. + +*** + +I have seen Mlle. DONNERWETTER. She was racing along on the pier, and I +was pacing along in the rear. I saw her and caught her up. I hastily +pressed all the valuables that I had with me--four postage-stamps and an +unserviceable watch-key--into her hand, and entreated her to give me an +interview with Miss SMITH. + +"Me muchee want to oblige English Sahib," she said, in her pulverised +English, "but ze Effendina--ze what you call 'ead-mistress, French lady +like myself--she no like it. She give me the _bottine_, if I let great +buckra massa talk to Fraulein SMEETS. But lookee--I give you straight +tip. Miss SMEETS is on ze pier now--you write note--slip it in her hand. +I wink ze eyebrow. I have a grand envy to oblige the English Signor. Ah! +Bismillah! _Quelle alouette!_" + +She is French, very French, but she has a kind heart. I hurriedly wrote +a few impassioned words on my left cuff, and folded it into a +three-cornered note. I dropped it down Miss SMEET'S neck as I found her +leaning over the side of the pier, and then ran away. I heard her +murmur, "Someone's mistaken me for the post-office." + +It is still raining, but I am quite happy. I have seen her again, and I +feel that she loves me. It was impossible to mistake the _tendresse_ +with which she murmured, "post-office." In my little note I requested +her to send a reply to this hotel. I have asked her to tell me plainly +what her income is, and to state on what conditions she will forfeit it. +Of course, she has no income now, as she is a minor, but I would wait a +year or two for a certainty. Shall I write her some verses--lines to a +minor, or thoughts on the Southampton quay? Perhaps I had better wait +until I obtain the statistics. Ah, here is JAMES, bringing me a note. It +must be from my darling--no, it is from Mademoiselle. + + DEAR SIR,--Miss SMITH am going away to Londres. A + telegram come for her, and I look over the shoulder. It + say, 'Poor TOMMY'S kicked! Come at once,' Miss SMITH + make the tears. + + Yours, + LUCIA DONNERWETTER. + +I must be off to London and get this matter traced. JAMES entreats me to +buy a new hat when I am away. He says it's bringing disgrace on the +hotel, and keeping away custom. What! Give up the hat which her dear +foot has kicked! Never! But, perhaps, I will have it ironed. The iron +has entered into my soul, and perhaps, it would be doing more good on my +hat. Yes, I will have it ironed. It does look a little limp. Ironed or +starched--what matter, when my darling is gone, and left me with no +information as to her income? + +(_To be concluded in Two more Chapters._) + + * * * * * + +"Venice Preserved" in The Haymarket. + +No--not OTWAY'S tragedy, and not under Mr. BEERBOHM TREE'S management, +but at the Gallery next door to the Theatre, and under the +superintendence of Mr. MCLEAN, you will find not only Venice, but +Florence, Prague, Heidelberg, Capri, Augsburg, Nuremburg, Innsbrueck, and +a good many other picturesque places, preserved in about a hundred +water-colour drawings, by Mr. EDWARD H. BEARNE. If there were not so +many rivers and lagoons in the exhibition, it might be called the +"Bearnese Oberland." These pictures are well painted, and, during the +gruesome weather, a tiny tour round this sunny gallery is mighty +refreshing. + + * * * * * + + STUDY FOR THE PELICAN CLUB.--The "Logic and Principles + of Mill." + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: HAPPY THOUGHT. + + OUR ARTIST, FINDING HE CANNOT EXTERMINATE THE STREET + MUSICIANS, AND UNWILLING TO BE EXTERMINATED BY THEM, HAS + HIT UPON A PLAN FOR HARDENING HIMSELF--WITH THE HAPPIEST + RESULTS. JUST ONE WEEK OF THE DISCIPLINE REPRESENTED + ABOVE HAS MADE HIM ABSOLUTELY INVULNERABLE--HE THINKS, + FOR LIFE!] + + * * * * * + +"BRITONS NEVER WILL BE SLAVES!" + +(_A Scene from a Domestic Comedy._) + +MRS. BOB BULL was the wife of a British Workman, and she got up at four +o'clock in the morning. + +"Must rise early," she said, "to see that my man has his breakfast." + +So she lighted the fire, and put the kettle on to boil, and laid the +cloth, and swept out the rooms. Then down came BOB rather in a bad +humour, because he had been late over-night at the "Cock and Bottle," +detained (as he explained to his wife) by a discussion about the rights +of labour. + +"Of course," said Mrs. BULL; "and why shouldn't you, after a hard day's +work, enjoy yourself?" + +But BOB contended that he had not enjoyed himself, although he had +undoubtedly expended two shillings and eight-pence upon refreshment. +What BOB wanted to know was, why there was a button off his coat, and +why his waistcoat had not been properly mended. + +"Well, I was busy with the children's things," replied Mrs. BOB; "but I +will put all straight when you have gone to work." + +"Gone to work, indeed!" grumbled BOB. "Yes, it's I that does all the +work, and worse luck to it!" + +The moment BOB was out of the house, Mrs. BOB got the children up and +dressed them, and gave them their breakfasts and sent them off to +school. When they were gone, she "tidied up" and dressed the baby. Then +she did one of "the bits of washing," that came from a family in whose +service she had been before she married BOB, and that family's +connection. And this occupied her fully, what with soaking, and mangling +and ironing, until it was time to carry BOB his dinner. In the pauses of +her work she had been able to cook it, and it was quite ready to go with +her when she was prepared to take it. It was a long walk (in the rain) +to BOB'S place of work, and it seemed the longer because she could not +leave the baby. But both got there, and the dinner, without any +accident. And then Mrs. BOB hurried back to give the children, now home +from school, _their_ midday meal. And Mrs. BOB had plenty of work to do +afterwards. She had to mend, and to scrub, and to sweep, and to sew. She +was not off her legs for a moment, and had she been a weaker woman, she +would have been thoroughly done up. Then came the children's evening +toilette and the cooking of BOB'S supper. Her lord and master entered in +due course, and she helped him off with his coat, and (when he had +finished his food) lighted his pipe for him. + +"Mended my clothes?" asked BOB. + +"Of course I have." + +"And washed my linen, and druv nails into my boots, and baked the bread, +and pickled the walnuts, and all the rest of it?" + +"Yes, BOB, I have done them all--every one of them." + +This put BOB into a better temper, and he took out an evening paper, and +began to read it. + +"I say," said he; "what do you think! They have got white slaves in +Turkey!" + +"You don't say so, BOB!" replied Mrs. BOB, lost in amazement. Then she +said as she paused tidying up the room, "Ah! they wouldn't allow +anything of _that_ sort in England!--would they, BOB?" + +And BOB, smoking his pipe, and sprawling before the fire, agreed with +her! + + * * * * * + +The Riviera in Bond Street. + +Why take a long journey and spend a lot of money, when the Riviera is +within a shilling cab-fare? Why not apply at 148, New Bond Street, and +obtain one of the Fine Art Society's "excursion _coupons_," and get +yourself personally conducted by Mr. JOHN FULLEYLOVE to Nice, Monte +Carlo, Genoa, and all sorts of delightful places? Take _Mr. Punch's_ +advice, and go there at once! And, when you have exhausted the Riviera, +you have another treat in a series of well-nigh seventy drawings of +Cambridge. These are skilfully limned, with scrupulous architectural +accuracy and charming pictorial effect, and will give great delight to +Cantabrians, old and young. They are worthy to take their place beside +the excellent series of pictures of Oxford which Mr. FULLEYLOVE +exhibited some time ago. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: THE FOREIGN FOX. + + (_With apologies to AEsop._)] + + * * * * * + + [Illustration] + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +"Bring me my books!" said the Baron, not for the first time. But on this +occasion the Baron was a prisoner in bed, and likely to remain so for +many days. Consequently, he required amusement. He had heard of a book, +called _Three Men in a Boat_, by Mr. JEROME K. JEROME, some of whose +observations, in a collection of papers entitled _Stage-land_, had +caused him to laugh several times, and to smile frequently, for the +subject has not been so well touched since GILBERT ABBOTT A BECKETT +wrote his inimitable _Quizziology of the Drama_, which for genuine +drollery has never been surpassed. Anticipating, then, some +side-splitters from _Three Men in a Boat_, the Baron sent for the work. +He opened it with a chuckle, which, instead of developing itself into a +guffaw and then into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, gradually +subsided altogether, his smile vanished, and an expression of weariness +came over the Baron's face, as after heroically plodding through five +chapters he laid the book down, and sighed aloud, "Well, I'm hanged if I +see where the fun of this is." The Baron may be wrong, and the humour of +this book, which seems to him to consist in weak imitations of American +fun, and in conversations garnished with such phrases as "bally idiot," +"bally tent," "doing a mouch," "boss the job," "put a pipe in his mouth, +and spread himself over a chair," "land him with a frying-pan," +"fat-headed chunk," "who the thunder" and so forth--a style the Baron +believes to have been introduced from Yankee-land, and patented here by +the _Sporting Times_ and its imitators,--interspersed with plentiful +allusions to whiskey-drinking, may not be, as it is not, to his +particular taste; and yet, for all that, it may be marvellously funny. +So the Baron requested an admirer of this book to pick out the gems, and +read them aloud to him. But even the admirer was compelled to own that +the gems did not sparkle so brilliantly as he had at first thought. +"Yet," observed the admirer, "it has had a big sale." "_Three Men in a +Boat_ ought to have," quoth the Baron, cheerily, and then he called +aloud, "Bring me _Pickwick_!" He commenced at the Review, and the first +meeting of _Mr. Pickwick_ with the Wardle family. Within five minutes +the Baron was shaking with spasmodic laughter, and CHARLES DICKENS'S +drollery was as irresistible as ever. Of course the Baron does not for +one moment mean to be so unfair to the _Three Men in a Boat_ as to +institute a comparison between it and the immortal _Pickwick_, but he +has heard some young gentlemen, quite of the modern school, who profess +themselves intensely amused by such works as this, and as the two books +by the author of _Through Green Glasses_, and yet allow that they could +not find anything to laugh at in _Pickwick_. They did not object to +_Pickwick_, as ladies very often do, that there is so much eating and +drinking in it. "No," says the Baron, in bed, "Give me my _Pickwick_, +and, after him, for a soothing and pleasant companion, give me +WASHINGTON IRVING. When I'm in another sort of humour, bring me +THACKERAY. For rollicking Irish life, give me LEVER. But as to +youth-about-town life of the present day, I do not know of any +second-class humorist who approaches within measurable distance of the +author of _The Pottleton Legacy_, in the past." So far the Baron. And +now "The Co." speaks:-- + +_A Tour in a Phaeton_, by J. J. HISSEY, is an interesting account of a +driving trip through the Eastern Counties. It abounds in hisseytorical +research; we are taken to all kinds of out-of-the-way and picturesque +places, of which the Author gives us graphic pictures with pencil as +well as pen. A fresher title to the work might have been devised, as the +present one bears a striking likeness to Mr. BLACK'S _Adventures of a +Phaeton_,--who, by the way, was the first to render driving tours +popular. The volume abounds in poetical quotations. The authority, +however, is seldom given, and inverted commas are conspicuous by their +absence. It can hardly be imagined that all this poetry is by the writer +of the book. In one instance he quotes a well-known verse by +ASHBY-STERRY, without acknowledgment, in which, for some inscrutable +reason, he has introduced a rugged final line which effectually mars the +harmony of the original stanza. + +Those who prefer Scotch broth well peppered to Butter-Scotch, should +read _Our Journey to the Hebrides_, by Mr. and Mrs. PENNELL. They seem +to have gone out of the beaten track in their tour, which is pleasant, +and their views of Scotland, though they may cause controversy, are +novel, and at the same time indescribably refreshing. As to the views of +Scotland chronicled by Mr. PENNELL'S clever and facile pencil, they are +full of thought, elaborate detail and wondrous originality. There are +some forty of these, all remarkable for their everlasting variety and +high artistic excellence. + +_Dr. Hermione_ (_Blackwood_) is rather an idyl than a novel, and would +have done better still if it had been cast in the form of a comedy. The +still anonymous author who followed up _Zit and Zoe_ by _Lady Bluebeard_ +possesses the gift, rare among novelists, of writing sparkling dialogue. +The quickly changing scenes in the last chapter of _Dr. Hermione_, with +its sprightly chatter would serve the poor player almost as it stands. +It is not too late to think about the comedy. In the meanwhile the novel +does very well, and if he had made his story a book for the play, we +should have missed many dainty descriptions of scenery. Nothing is so +good as his description of the Lake District in Autumn, unless it be his +pictures of the surroundings of the Nile as it + + Flows through hushed old Egypt and its sands, + Like some grave mighty thought, threading a dream. + +_Some Places of Note in England_ (DOWDESWELLS) have been deftly noted by +a notable artist, namely, BIRKET FOSTER. From the "places of note," he +has evolved some of the most delicate of harmonies. Whether he gives us +a Canterbury _cantata_, a Richmond _rondo_, a Stratford symphony, a +Lambeth _lied_, or a Tilbury _toccata_ we are equally delighted with his +choice of _motivo_ and his brilliancy of execution. In this volume we +have five-and-twenty pictures, admirably reproduced in the highest style +of lithography. Mr. BIRKET FOSTER has been before the public for many +years--he appeared, if we mistake not, in the early numbers of the +_Illustrated News_: his work has been constant, and his pictures +countless ever since, and yet, in the present volume, we find him better +than ever. + +_Sporting Celebrities._ The first number of this new monthly contains +two excellent portraits by M. WALERY. One is of the Duke of BEAUFORT, +the other of Mr. CHOLMONDELEY PENNELL. They are accompanied by crisp +well-written biographical notices. The two portraits are well worth the +price charged for the Magazine. A couple of good photographs for a +shilling, cannot be considered dear. In addition to this, there are +twenty pages of letterpress--so altogether it is a splendid +shillingsworth. BARON DE BOOK-WORMS & CO. + + * * * * * + +ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. + +INSANITARY DUST-BINS.--That your servants should have thrown half a +lobster, several potted meat-tins, an uneatable rabbit-pie, and all the +vegetable refuse of your household, into your dust-bin, and that it +should not have been "attended to" for upwards of two months, is quite +sufficient to account for the intolerable odour of which you and all +your neighbours on that side of the street have had reason to complain; +but, as you seem to think nothing but an epidemic fever, caused by the +nuisance, will rouse the Authorities, you might, by throwing in a pound +or two of phosphate of lime, the same quantity of copper shavings, and a +gallon or so of nitric acid, as you suggest, create such an intolerable +stench, that something would have to be done, and that without delay, to +preserve your entire neighbourhood from a visitation of the plague. Try +it, by all means. In the meantime have a notice, as you propose, put in +your kitchen window, to the effect that a champagne luncheon, and +half-a-crown a head, will be provided for the dustmen if they will only +call. Failing this, you might take the steps you seriously contemplate, +with a view to marrying into the dust-contractor's family. This, +perhaps, coupled with a series of urgent letters to the _Times_, would +be your wisest course. But, in the present unsatisfactory state of the +law, it is difficult to know how to advise you for the best. Your idea, +if the worst comes to the worst, and you cannot get the Vestry to attend +to it, of blowing up your dust-bin yourself with gunpowder, you might +resort to as a last expedient; but, as you seem to think it might bring +down your portico, and possibly the whole front of your house as well, +we should advise you not to put it into execution till _quite_ assured +that your attempts to get your dust-bin emptied by some less violent +means have all hopelessly failed. Anyhow, try the copper shavings and +nitric acid first. We think you will find, if steadily persevered in, +that they will, coupled, possibly, with some legal proceedings, settle +the matter for you. + + * * * * * + +MORE GLORY.--The fall of a fragment of a chandelier has shed an +additional lustre--or a portion of a lustre--on the _Brav' General_. + + * * * * * + + QUITE THE FIRST BRIDGE.--The Forth Bridge. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: THE GRAND OLD UNDERGRAD. + + MR. GLADSTONE'S VISIT TO OXFORD.--It has been stated in + several papers that Mr. GLADSTONE intends to reside at + All Souls' College, Oxford, of which he is an Honorary + Fellow, from January 30, till the meeting of Parliament, + on February 11. Mr. GLADSTONE, who, we believe, is going + up for quiet study, will occupy a set of College rooms.] + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: "ANNALS OF A QUIET PARISH." + + _The Vicar's Wife_ (_to Country Tradesman_). "NOW, + HOSKINS, AFTER SO MANY YEARS OF OUR LIBERAL PATRONAGE, + IT WAS REALLY TOO BAD OF YOU TO SEND US SUCH A + GLOBE--CRACKED FROM TOP TO BOTTOM----!" + + _Vicar_ (_calling from the Study-door at end of + passage_). "MY DEAR, DID YOU RECOLLECT TO SEND FOR + HOSKINS ABOUT THE GLOBE YOU HAD THE LITTLE ACCIDENT WITH + LAST WEEK!"] + + * * * * * + +AN UNSCIENTIFIC DIALOGUE. + +(_On a highly Uninteresting Topic._) + +_First Aspiring Political Economist_ (_picking his way cautiously_). +What the Bimetallists maintain is this: that by fixing an artificial +ratio between the relative values of gold and silver, you somehow (_a +little vaguely_) keep up prices; and so, at least,--so I fancy,--assist +the circulation of capital. At all events, that is what I take M. EMILE +DE LAVELEYE to mean. (_Tentatively._) You see that, don't you? + +_Second Aspiring Political Economist._ Not a bit of it. Why, EMILE DE +LAVELEYE is an ass. (_Emphatically._) GIFFEN says so. And you can't have +a higher authority than GIFFEN (_clinching the matter_). Why, he's Hon. +Assistant Deputy Secretary to the Board of Commerce; (_with animation_) +in fact, he says that all Bimetallists are hopeless lunatics, and, in my +opinion, he's about right. + +_Third Aspiring Political Economist._ I don't see that at all. But if +you are going to settle the matter by merely quoting names, what have +you got to say to FOXWELL, the London Professor? He's a Bimetallist, and +no mistake. + +_Second Aspiring Political Economist._ "Got to say?" Why, ask LEVIN of +Cambridge what he thinks of him. LEVIN backs up GIFFEN in every word he +says, and I agree with both of them. How can you have two standards? +(_Explicitly._) The thing is preposterous. + +_First Aspiring Political Economist._ It is all very well to lay down +the law in that fashion, but it will not dispose of facts. You may quote +GIFFEN, or LEVIN, or anyone you like, but they will not be able to do +away with the circumstance, that prices are regulated by the quantity of +money in circulation (_with a little hesitation_); at least, that is +what I understand the other side to maintain. + +_Second Aspiring Political Economist._ Sheer nonsense. How does the +quantity of money you possess affect the price you pay for a commodity? +The fact of your having twenty sovereigns in your purse won't make your +butcher charge you an extra halfpenny a pound for a leg of mutton! That +must be clear to any fool! + +_First Aspiring Political Economist._ But you don't understand. It's +numbers that do it. They mean, if thirty millions of people, each have +twenty sovereigns a-piece in their purses (_doubtfully_), _then_, I +suppose, the butchers would raise the price of their meat. At least, +that's what I fancy they imply when they talk of an "artificial +currency" raising prices (_with some vagueness_), or is it "artificial +prices" creating an increased currency. I couldn't _quite_ follow them +in this. But I am sure, whichever of the two views was expressed by M. +EMILE DE LAVELEYE, that one had, no doubt, a great deal of sound +argument to back it. + +_Third Aspiring Political Economist._ I think you miss the point. Take +an illustration. Say you arrive at a cannibal island with ten thousand +complete sets of evening dress clothes, and that another ship, just +before the arrival of yours, has taken the last ten-pound-note off the +island, how, supposing there was to be a native rush to obtain one of +your suits, would the absence of any money to pay for them affect their +market value? I mayn't have got it quite correctly, but this, or +something like it, is one of the cases that GIFFEN brings forward to +prove his point. The matter, however, appears to me to be a little +complicated. + +_Second Aspiring Political Economist._ Not in the least. It proves the +humbug of the Bimetallic position up to the hilt. Of course, you must +assume, that the cannibals desire to dress in evening clothes. I confess +that has to be considered, and then the question lies in a nutshell. +There can't be two opinions about it. + +_First Aspiring Political Economist._ Well, to me, though, of course, I +am willing to admit there _may_ be something in it, I can't say that the +matter is, at first sight, convincingly clear. (_Candidly._) My chief +difficulty is, I confess, to arrive at any definite conclusion with +myself, as to what "Bimetallism" really means, and what it does not; and +I own I feel still vague as to the two questions of the influence of the +quantity of money on prices, or the price of a commodity on the value of +money respectively, and, though I carefully read all that appears in the +daily papers on the subject, I am compelled to own that I do not seem to +be nearer a solution of the perplexing difficulty. However, it is, no +doubt, a highly absorbing, if not a very useful, subject for +investigation. + + [_Left investigating it as Curtain falls._ + + * * * * * + + [Illustration] + +MR. PUNCH'S MORAL MUSIC-HALL DRAMAS. + +No. IV. + +Our present example is pure tragedy of the most ambitious kind, and is, +perhaps, a little in advance of the taste of a Music-hall audience of +the present day. When the fusion between the Theatres and the +Music-Halls is complete--when Miss BESSIE BELLWOOD sings "_What Cheer, +'Ria?_" at the Lyceum, and Mr. HENRY IRVING gives his compressed version +of _Hamlet_ at the Trocadero; when there is a general levelling-up of +culture, and removal of prejudice--then, and not till then, will this +powerful little play meet with the appreciation which is its due. The +main idea is suggested by the Misses TAYLOR'S well-known poem, _The +Pin_, though the dramatist has gone further than the poetess in working +out the notion of Nemesis. + +THE FATAL PIN.--A TRAGEDY. + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE. + +_Emily Heedless._ By either Miss VESTA TILLEY or Mrs. BERNARD BEERE. + +_Peter Paragon._ Mr. FORBES ROBERTSON or Mr. ARTHUR ROBERTS (only he +mustn't sing "_The Good Young Man who Died_"). + +_First and Second Bridesmaids._ Miss MAUDE MILLETT and Miss ANNIE +HUGHES. + + SCENE.--EMILY'S _Boudoir, sumptuously furnished with a + screen and sofa,_ C. _Door,_ R., _leading to_ EMILY'S + _Bed-chamber. Door,_ L. EMILY _discovered in loose + wrapper, and reclining in uncomfortable position on + sofa._ + +_Emily_ (_dreamily_). This day do I become the envied bride of PETER, +justly surnamed PARAGON; and much I wonder what in me he found (he, who +Perfection so personifies) that he could condescend an eye to cast on +faulty, feather-headed EMILY! How solemn is the stillness all around me! +(_A loud bang is heard behind screen._) Methought I heard the dropping +of a pin!--perhaps I should arise and search for it.... Yet why, on +second thoughts, disturb myself, since I am, by my settlements, to have +a handsome sum allowed for pin-money? Nay, since thou claim'st thy +freedom, little pin, I lack the heart to keep thee prisoner. Go, then, +and join the great majority of fallen, vagrant, unregarded pinhood--my +bliss is too supreme at such an hour to heed such infidelities as thine. + + [_Falls into a happy reverie._ + + _Enter_ First and Second Bridesmaids. + +_First and Second Bridesmaids._ What, how now, EMILY--not yet attired? +Nay, haste, for PETER will be here anon! + + [_They hurry her off by_ R. _door, just as_ PETER + PARAGON _enters_ L. _in bridal array. N.B.--The + exigences of the Drama are responsible for his making + his appearance here, instead of waiting, as is more + usual, at the church._ + +_Peter_ (_meditatively_). The golden sands of my celibacy are running +low--soon falls the final grain! Yet, even now, the glass I would not +turn. My EMILY is not without her faults--"_was_ not without them," I +should rather say, for during ten idyllic years of courtship, by precept +and example I have striven to mould her to a helpmate fit for me. Now, +thank the Gods, my labours are complete--she stands redeemed from all +her giddiness! (_Here he steps upon the pin, and utters an +exclamation_). Ha! what is this? I'm wounded ... agony! With what a +darting pain my foot's transfixed! I'll summon help (_with calm +courage_)--yet, stay, I would not dim this nuptial day by any sombre +cloud. I'll bear this stroke alone--and now to probe the full extent of +my calamity. (_Seats himself on sofa in such a position as to be +concealed by the screen from all but the audience, and proceeds to +remove his boot._) Ye powers of Perfidy, it is a pin! I must know more +of this--for it is meet such criminal neglect should be exposed. Severe +shall be that house-maid's punishment who's proved to be responsible for +this!--but soft, I hear a step. + + [_Enter_ First _and_ Second Bridesmaids, _who hunt + diligently upon the carpet without observing_ PETER's + _presence._ + +_Emily's Voice_ (_within_). Oh, search, I pray you. It _must_ be +there--my own ears heard it fall! + + [PETER _betrays growing uneasiness._ + +_The Bridesmaids._ Indeed, we fail to see it anywhere! + +_Emily_ (_entering distractedly in bridal costume, with a large rent in +her train_). You have no eyes, I tell you, let me help. It must be +found, or I am all undone! In vain my cushion I have cut in two--'twas +void of all but stuffing.... Gracious Heavens, to think that all my +future bliss depends on the evasive malice of a pin! + + [PETER _behind screen, starts violently._ + +_Peter_ (_aside_). A pin! what dire misgivings wring my heart! (_Hops +forward with a cold dignity, holding one foot in his hand._) You seem in +some excitement, EMILY? + +_Emily_ (_wildly_). _You_, PETER!... tell me--have you found a pin? + +_Peter_ (_with deadly calm_). Unhappy girl--I _have_! (_To_ +Bridesmaids.) Withdraw awhile, and when we need you, we will summon you. +(_Exeunt_ Bridesmaids; EMILY _and_ PETER _stand facing each other for +some moments in dead silence._) The pin is found--for I have trodden on +it, and may, for aught I know, be lamed for life. Speak, EMILY, what is +that maid's desert whose carelessness has led to this mishap? + +_Emily_ (_in the desperate hope of shielding herself_). Why, should the +fault be traced to any maid, instant dismissal shall be her reward, with +a month's wages paid in lieu of notice! + +_Peter_ (_with a passionless severity_). From your own lips I judge you, +EMILY. Did they not own just now that you had heard the falling of a +pin--yet heeded not? Behold the outcome of your negligence! + + [_Extends his injured foot._ + +_Emily._ Oh, let me kiss the place and make it well! + +_Peter_ (_coldly withdrawing foot_). Keep your caresses till I ask for +them. My wound goes deeper than you wot of yet, and by that disregarded +pin is pricked the iridescent bubble of Illusion! + +_Emily_ (_slowly_). Indeed, I do not wholly comprehend. + +_Peter._ Have patience and I will be plainer yet. Mine is a complex +nature, EMILY; magnanimous, but still methodical. An injury I freely can +forgive, forget it--(_striking his chest_)--never! She who leaves about +pins on the floor to pierce a lover's foot, will surely plant a thorn +within the side of him whose fate it is to be her husband! + +_Emily_ (_dragging herself towards him on her knees_). Have pity on me, +PETER; I was mad! + +_Peter_ (_with emotion_). How can I choose but pity thee, poor soul, +who, for the sake of temporary ease, hast forfeited the bliss that had +been thine! You could not stoop to pick a pin up. Why? Because, +forsooth, 'twas but a paltry pin! Yet, duly husbanded, that self-same +pin had served you to secure your gaping train, your self-respect--and +Me. + +_Emily_ (_wailing_). What have I done? + +_Peter._ I will not now reproach you, EMILY, nor would I dwell upon my +wounded sole, the pain of which increases momently. I part from you in +friendship, and in proof, that fated instrument I leave with you +(_presenting her with the pin, which she accepts mechanically_) which +the frail link between us twain has severed. I can dispense with it, for +in my cuff (_shows her his coat-cuff, in which a row of pins'-heads is +perceptible_) I carry others 'gainst a time of need. My poor success in +life I trace to this--that never yet I passed a pin unheeded. + +_Emily._ And is that all you have to say to me? + +_Peter._ I think so--save that I shall wish you well, and pray that +henceforth you may bear in mind what vast importance lies in seeming +trifles. + +_Emily_ (_with a pale smile_). PETER, your lesson is already learned, +for precious has this pin become for me, since by its aid I gain +oblivion--thus! + + [_Stabs herself._ + +_Peter_ (_coldly_). Nay, these are histrionics, EMILY. + + [_Assists her to sofa._ + +_Emily._ I'd skill enough to find a vital spot. Do not withdraw it +yet--my time is short, and I have much to say before I die. (_Faintly._) +Be gentle with my rabbits when I'm gone; give my canary chickweed +now and then.... I think there is no more--ah, one last +word--(_warmly_)--warn them they must not cut our wedding-cake, and then +the pastrycook may take it back! + +_Peter_ (_deeply moved_). Would you had shown this thoughtfulness +before! + + [_Kneels by the sofa._ + +_Emily._ 'Tis now too late, and clearly do I see that I was never worthy +of you, PETER. + +_Peter_ (_gently_). 'Tis not for me to contradict you now. You did your +best to be so, EMILY! + +_Emily._ A blessing on you for those generous words! Now tell me, PETER, +how is your poor foot? + +_Peter._ The agony decidedly abates, and I can bear a boot again. + +_Emily._ Then I die happy!... Kiss me, PETER ... ah! + + [_Dies._ + +_Peter._ In peace she passed away. I'm glad of that, although that peace +was purchased by a lie. I shall not bear a boot for many days! Thus ends +our wedding morn, and she, poor child, has paid the penalty of +heedlessness! + + [_Curtain falls, whereupon, unless Mr. Punch is greatly + mistaken, there will not be a dry eye in the house._ + + * * * * * + + 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. 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