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+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" />
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98, March 22, 1890, by Various</title>
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+</head>
+<body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30414 ***</div>
+
+<h1>PUNCH,<br />
+
+OR, THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1>
+
+<h2>VOLUME 98.</h2>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<h2>MARCH 22, 1890.</h2>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%">
+<a href="images/133.png">
+<img src="images/133.png" width="100%" alt="MAXIMS FOR THE BAR. No. II." /></a>
+<h4>MAXIMS FOR THE BAR. No. II.</h4>
+<p>"Always laugh at the Judge's jokes. It is not upon such an occasion that
+his Lordship observes that he <i>will</i> <span class="smcap">NOT</span> have the Court turned into a
+theatre."</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>JUSTISS FOR THE PORE.</h2>
+
+<p>I've jest been told another staggerer. Well, it seems then that, in one
+of the werry largest and werry poppularest of all the Citty Parishes,
+sum grand old Cristian Patriots of the holden times left lots of money,
+when they was ded, and didn't want it no more, to be given to the Pore
+of the Parish, for warious good and charitable hobjecs, such as for
+rewarding good and respectabel Female Servants as managed to keep their
+places for at least four years, in despite of rampageous Marsters, and
+crustaceous Missuses; also for selling Coles to werry Pore Peeple at
+sumthink like four pence per hundredweight, be the reglar price what it
+may; also for paying what's called, I think, premeums for putting Pore
+Boys or Pore Gals as aprentisses to warious trades, so as to lern and
+laber truly to get a good living when they growd up, insted of loafing
+about in dirt and hignorence; likewise for allowing little pensions to
+poor old women as is a striving all their mite and main to keep
+themselves out of the hated Workhouse; and there are seweral other
+similar good purposes as the good Citizens of old left their money for,
+and hundreds if not thowsands of pore but honest men and women has had
+good cause to be grateful to 'em for their kind and pious thortfulness.</p>
+
+<p>Well, I hardly xpecs to be bleeved when I says, that a law has been
+passed that allows sutten werry respectabel but werry hignerant Gents,
+called Charity Commissioners, to sweep away ewerry one of those truly
+charitable hinstitutions, and to make use of all this money somewheres
+else, and for sum other objecs, and for sum other peeple!</p>
+
+<p>I ain't so werry much supprized as I ort to be, to learn that the ouse
+of Commons&mdash;ouse of "Short Commons," I shud call 'em&mdash;has passed this
+most wicked Law, <i>cos werry pore peeple ain't got no votes</i>; but I do
+confess as I am supprised at the most respectabel and harrystocrattick
+House of Lords a condesendin not merely to rob a pore man of his Beer,
+but to rob a poor Made Servant of her 2 Ginneys reward for behaviour
+like a Angel for four long weary years in the same place, be it a good
+'un or a werry ard 'un, and to purwent a lot of pore hard working Men
+and Women from getting their little stock of Coles in at about a quarter
+of the reglar price! In course it ain't to be supposed as Washupfool
+Books and Honnerabel Markisses can know or care much about the price of
+Coals, altho there is one Most Honnerabel Markis, from whom I bort a
+hole Tun larst year at rayther a high figger, who coud have told em, and
+shood have told em all about it, tho' praps he's agin cheap Coles on
+principal. And besides all this, it won't I shood think, be a werry
+plezzant thort to come across a Noble Dook's or a Wirtuous Wiscount's
+mind&mdash;if such eminent swells has em, like the rest on us&mdash;when they sees
+a lot of dirty raggid boys and gals a loafing about the streets, to
+think that if the money that was left hundreds of years ago by good men,
+had been still used <i>as it was ordered to be used</i>, and has been used
+for sentrys, these same raggid boys and gals wood have bin a learning of
+some useful trade by which they might have hearnd a desent living.</p>
+
+<p>In course I can hear, with my mind's ear, as <i>Amlet</i> says, my thowsends
+of simperthising readers shouting out, "What's the use of your crying
+over spilt milk?" Well, none, of course, but I happens to have herd that
+there's still <i>jest one chance left</i>. It seems that there is what's
+called, I think, "<i>a appeal</i>" to sum werry heminent Swells called "the
+Lords of the uncommon Counsel on Eddication," and the kind-hearted
+Church Wardens, as I has before eluded to, means to make one; and ewery
+kind-hearted Cristian Man and Woman as reads my truthful statement, and
+can feel, as me, and Lords, and Ladies as well, can, and ort to, and
+must feel, will wish 'em thurrur suksess in their good, and kind, and
+mussiful atemt to hobtane justiss for them as carnt no hows obtane it
+for theirselves.</p>
+
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Robert</span>.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>HOW WE DO BUSINESS NOW.</h2>
+
+<h4>BEAR COURT CHAMBERS, BULL LANE, E.C.</h4>
+
+<center><span class="smcap">Circular</span> 1059.</center><br />
+
+<center><span class="smcap">Telegraphic Address</span>&mdash;SPIDER.</center>
+
+<center><span class="smcap">Telephone Number</span>&mdash;BILLION.</center>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">My Dear Sir</span>,&mdash;Now is <i>the</i> time to remit to me for the forthcoming big
+movements I intend to make during the current Month. If my last Circular
+proved true down to the very last letter, this one will be ten times
+truer. What did I say last month? I said there would be a big rise in
+Boomerang Rails, which were then at 11¾. In 57½ hours after my
+Circular was issued they had risen to 110-7/16, and many of my clients
+made thousands of pounds. One of them actually making the magnificent
+sum of &pound;27,876 11s. 4¼<i>d.</i> I love to be accurate, so I give the exact
+amount.</p>
+
+<p>Now is the time, I repeat. No one out of the millions of clients, from
+an Exalted Lady, whom delicacy forbids me to name, down to the junior
+waiter at the Pomona, ever lost by coming to me. I also advised, and I
+repeat it this month,</p>
+
+<h4>CHUCKSTER TOLL BAR BINKSES.</h4>
+
+<p>They were hardly quoted on the Stock Exchange&mdash;hardly known even&mdash;when I
+took them up on the 1st of April last year. Where are they now? At 119!
+And they will move on to 219 before the year ends. I have means of
+information possessed by none besides me. I have a wire of my own laid
+on to every Embassy house on the Continent; every <i>attach&eacute;</i>, every
+dragoman is my correspondent, and more than one Crowned Head has
+honoured me with the secrets of his last Council, or of his resolves on
+War or Peace. I myself am a Power. I can make and unmake and ruin homes
+as well as any Czar or Emperor.</p>
+
+<blockquote>But I bind the clients who trust me with bands of iron.<br />
+
+Again I say buy</blockquote>
+
+<h4>CHUCKSTER TOLL BAR BINKSES.</h4>
+
+<p>Remit the necessary Cover to me at once. Small sums combined make large
+ones, and you cannot be in too soon. Five-pence (a sum you would throw
+at a crossing-sweeper) covers Five Pounds. Here is my scale:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class='centered table'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="scale of charges">
+<tr><td>&nbsp;&nbsp;&pound;1</td><td>covers</td><td>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&pound;1000.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;&nbsp;&pound;5</td><td>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"</td><td>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&pound;5000.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&pound;20</td><td>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"</td><td>&pound;200,000.</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p>But send me whatever you like, and it will prove the most important act
+of your life; one you will never forget.</p>
+
+<blockquote>Again I say buy</blockquote>
+
+<h4>CHUCKSTER TOLL BAR BINKSES.</h4>
+
+<p>There is fascination in their very name. Don't do the thing weakly. Act
+on the advice of that great man <span class="smcap">Barry Lyndon</span>, and speculate grandly.
+Take the history of one out of thousands of fortunes made by me for
+others:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>A BANK CLERK, hard up, desperately pressed by his duns, had received a
+small remittance from his father, a struggling Clergyman. The sum
+amounted to &pound;50, just enough to pay the young fellow's bills, and leave
+him a paltry sovereign. Do you think he was such a fool as to have read
+my Circular in vain? He very wisely brought the money to me. I bought
+Boomerangs at 11¾. In 57½ hours that young man was a
+<i>millionnaire</i>. He has magnificent chambers on the Embankment; shows
+himself in the Row at the present time; would not look at a cigar under
+half-a-crown; and has not entirely forgotten the claims of his family,
+for to my knowledge he has remitted several pounds to his younger
+brothers.&mdash;Again I say,</p>
+
+<h4>BUY BOOMERANGS OR CHUCKSTERS.</h4>
+
+<p>One Word of Caution, and I conclude Circular 1059. <span class="smcap">Be very Cautious of
+Some People I know</span>. Once trust yourself to them, and it is all
+U.P.&mdash;Wire immediately (<i>and send the necessary cover</i>) to</p>
+
+<p class="regards">Yours truly,</p>
+
+<p class="author">ZACH. SPYDUR.</p>
+
+<p>P.S.&mdash;When once you have tasted the joys of speculation, you will think
+and care for nothing else. The click of the Tape Machine is music to
+you. I have one going all night in my bed-room.</p>
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Suggestion for Advertisement of St. James's Theatre</span>.&mdash;"<i>As You Like
+It</i>",&mdash;come and see it!</p><br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 55%">
+<h4>MADAME DIOGENES.</h4>
+<a href="images/134.png">
+<img src="images/134.png" width="100%" alt="MADAME DIOGENES" /></a><br /><br />
+<p><i>Diogenes.</i> What are these better possessions you speak of?</p>
+<p><i>Krates.</i> Wisdom, self-sufficiency, truth, plain-speaking, freedom.</p>
+<blockquote><span class="smcap">Lucian's</span> <i>Dialogues of the Dead</i>.</blockquote>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Ah! Madame La France, after trials all round</p>
+<p class="i2">Of great Chiefs and their squabbling political progenies,</p>
+<p class="i0">Like him of Sinope, at last you are found</p>
+<p class="i2">With lantern in hand, a true Lady Diogenes.</p>
+<p class="i0">The precinct is dark, and seems growing still dimmer,</p>
+<p class="i0">Your wandering light shows a devious glimmer.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">A right Honest Man? He was scarce in the Courts.</p>
+<p class="i2">He seems very nearly as scarce in the Caucuses.</p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>
+<p class="i0">You've had leaders of late of all sizes and sorts,</p>
+<p class="i2">And the gloom of the outlook is utter as Orcus's.</p>
+<p class="i0">Imperial, Royalist, Red Flag or White,</p>
+<p class="i0">Not one of them leads La Belle France to the light.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Wisdom, truth and plain-speaking? Ah, where are they found?</p>
+<p class="i2">As scarce in these days as is genuine freedom!</p>
+<p class="i0">They all prate of Honour, yet Honour all round</p>
+<p class="i2">They'll sell for the first mess of pottage from Edom.</p>
+<p class="i0">Well, Madame, <i>Punch</i> wishes you luck with your lantern,</p>
+<p class="i0">And up, soon or late, may a true Honest Man turn!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>STANZAS TO RHUBARB.</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>By The O'Greedy.</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">O bright new-comer, I have seen,</p>
+<p class="i2">I see thee, and rejoice;</p>
+<p class="i0">Though what the coster-man may mean</p>
+<p class="i2">I judge not, by his voice.</p>
+<p class="i0">I see thee, and to either eye</p>
+<p class="i2">The tears unbidden start;</p>
+<p class="i0">O rhubarb! shall I call thee pie,</p>
+<p class="i2">Or art thou truly tart?</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">I was not wont thy charms to see</p>
+<p class="i2">When childhood stubborn stood</p>
+<p class="i0">Fix'd in the faith, that thou must be</p>
+<p class="i2">Too wholesome to be good.</p>
+<p class="i0">Just as we loved the cloying jam,</p>
+<p class="i2">By no effects dismay'd,</p>
+<p class="i0">Regarding as a bitter sham</p>
+<p class="i2">The honest marmalade.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">When daffodillies deck the shops,</p>
+<p class="i2">And hyacinths indoors</p>
+<p class="i0">Recall the flavour of the drops</p>
+<p class="i2">We used to suck by scores</p>
+<p class="i0">(Pear-drops they were,&mdash;a subtle blend</p>
+<p class="i2">Of hyacinthine smell,</p>
+<p class="i0">And the banana's blackest end,&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">We loved them, and were well);</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">When chrysalis-buds are folded thick,</p>
+<p class="i2">And crocuses awake,</p>
+<p class="i0">And, like celestial almonds, stick</p>
+<p class="i2">In Flora's tipsy-cake;</p>
+<p class="i0">Before the crews are on the Thames,</p>
+<p class="i2">The swallows on the wing,</p>
+<p class="i0">The radiant rhubarb-bundle flames,</p>
+<p class="i2">The lictor-rod of Spring.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Still, still reluctant Winter keeps</p>
+<p class="i2">Some chill surprise in store,</p>
+<p class="i0">And Spring through frosty curtain peeps</p>
+<p class="i2">On snowdrifts at her door;</p>
+<p class="i0">The full moon smites the leafless trees,</p>
+<p class="i2">So full, it bursts with light,</p>
+<p class="i0">Till the sharp shadows seem to freeze</p>
+<p class="i2">Along the highway white.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Yet the keen wind has heard the song</p>
+<p class="i2">Of summer far away.</p>
+<p class="i0">And, though he's got the music wrong,</p>
+<p class="i2">We know what he would say.</p>
+<p class="i0">For in the vegetable cart</p>
+<p class="i2">Thy radiant stalks we spy.</p>
+<p class="i0">O rhubarb, should we call thee tart,</p>
+<p class="i2">Or art thou merely pie?</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">And why not so? The cushat dove</p>
+<p class="i2">To such a shrine we trust,</p>
+<p class="i0">Though in dumb protest she will shove</p>
+<p class="i2">Her tootsies through the crust;</p>
+<p class="i0">And larks, that sing at Heaven's gate</p>
+<p class="i2">When April clouds are high,</p>
+<p class="i0">Not seldom gain the gourmet's plate</p>
+<p class="i2">Through portals of the pie.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">So thou, sweet harbinger of Spring,</p>
+<p class="i2">Gules of her blazon'd field,</p>
+<p class="i0">If in a pie thy praise we sing,</p>
+<p class="i2">To worthy fate wilt yield.</p>
+<p class="i0">Enough! I sing; let others eat:</p>
+<p class="i2">Be mine the poet's lot.</p>
+<p class="i0">The thought of thee is all too sweet&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">The taste of thee is not.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%">
+<a href="images/135.png">
+<img src="images/135.png" width="100%" alt="NO FEAR FOR THE CONSCIENCE CLAUSE" /></a>
+<h4>NO FEAR FOR THE CONSCIENCE CLAUSE.</h4>
+<p><i>Priest</i> (<i>teaching Catechism in Catholic School</i>). "<span class="smcap">Now, Saunders,
+repeat the Ten</span>&mdash;&mdash;" <i>All the other Boys.</i> "<span class="smcap">Please, Father, this 'ere
+Boy's a Pro's'tant</span>!!"</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>"I'LL CALL THEE HAMLET."</h2>
+
+<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Benson</span>, the enterprising young Lessee of the Globe Theatre, on two
+evenings of the week affords a spectacle of the greatest possible
+interest to every Shakspearian student. His <i>Hamlet</i> is rather given to
+noisy declamation when greatly moved, but, barring this, seems to be a
+thoroughly good-natured harmless creature, who, as fond of dabbling in
+private theatricals, would probably be hailed as an acquisition at the
+Meistersingers Club and cognate institutions. The innovations introduced
+into the action relieve the gloom of the Tragedy. Take for instance, the
+treatment of <i>Ophelia</i>, which is full of quiet humour. That she should
+look as old as <i>Hamlet's</i> Mother, is of course, accidental, and is
+purely attributable to the Globe <i>Gertrude</i> being exceptionally comely
+and youthful, still it has a very quaint effect. But the idea of the
+unfortunate maid, after she has committed suicide, being carried <i>&agrave; la</i>
+<span class="smcap">Guy Faux</span> into the throne-room with a sort of "See what we have found"
+air, is broadly comic. The funeral with its "maimed rites," is also very
+funny. Apparently, the Bishop (whose garb, by the way, seems to be a
+compromise between an eccentric Jewish Rabbi and that of a decidedly
+demented Roman Catholic Priest) has "contracted" for the procession,
+with the result of collecting together a heterogeneous company,
+consisting of modern High Church curates, a few members of some humorous
+Confraternity, and a sprinkling of other amusing grotesques. But the fun
+reaches its climax, when the body of <i>Ophelia</i> herself is produced in,
+what seemed to me to be, <i>a hamper</i>! The above example of what is being
+done twice a week in Newcastle Street, Strand, will show how well worthy
+of the scholar's notice is the present revival of <i>Hamlet</i> at the Globe
+Theatre. As actors, Mr. <span class="smcap">Benson's</span> company are not entirely satisfactory.
+As thinkers, however, they are worthy of the greatest possible respect.
+Under these circumstances, it is to be hoped, that should they
+ultimately, for sufficient reason, decide to give up acting, they will
+yet resolve to continue what they do so well, and, in three words&mdash;go on
+thinking.</p>
+
+<p class="regards">(<i>Signed</i>)</p>
+
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Bene Vestitus</span>.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Covent Gardening Prospects</span>.&mdash;The prospectus of the Italian Opera Season
+lies on <i>Mr. Punch's</i> table; but though this is its attitude, there is
+no reason to doubt the truthfulness of its statements. More anon. <i>En
+attendant</i>, we may say that the stage-management, in the hands of
+<span class="smcap">Augustus Druriolanus</span>, is a guarantee for the excellence of the
+<i>mises-en-sc&egrave;ne</i>, of the misses-<i>en-sc&egrave;ne</i>, and of the
+"hits"-<i>en-sc&egrave;ne</i>.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>
+
+<h2>MODERN TYPES.</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>By Mr. Punch's Own Type-Writer.</i>)<br /><br />
+
+No. V.&mdash;THE DILETTANTE.</center>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%">
+<a href="images/136.png">
+<img src="images/136.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<p>The Modern Dilettante will have been in boyhood a shorn lamb, for whom
+it was necessary to temper the wind of an English education by a liberal
+admixture of foreign travel. A prolonged course of interrupted studies
+will have filled him with culture, whilst a distaste for serious effort,
+whether mental or physical, and an innate capacity for mastering no
+subject thoroughly will have produced in him that special refinement
+which is to the Dilettante as a trade-stamp to Britannia metal. In
+after-life, he will speak with regretful fondness, and with an accuracy
+which he fails to apply to other matters of his "days" (four in number)
+at a German University, and will submit with cheerfulness to the
+reputation of having drunk deep from the muddy fountains of metaphysical
+speculation, which are as abundant and as ineffective in Germany, as her
+springs of mineral water.</p>
+
+<p>Having passed his period of storm and stress without committing any of
+those follies or indulging in any of those excesses by which the parents
+of ordinary young men are afflicted, he will arrive without reproach at
+the borders of an apparently blameless middle age, and, finding himself
+after the death of his father, in the enjoyment of a settled income of
+considerable size, he will set up in life as an acknowledged amateur of
+all that is truly precious. In order that nothing may be wanting to him
+for the proper pursuit of this calling, he will gather round him a
+little band of boneless enthusiasts, who after paying due devotion to
+themselves, and to one another, will join him in worshipping the dead or
+living nonentities whose laurelled photographs adorn his rooms. He will
+cover his couches with soft silks, his walls will be hung with
+impressionist etchings and engravings of undraped ladies of French
+origin, <i>terra-cotta</i> statuettes principally of the young Apollo, will
+be placed in every corner, and a marble bust of the young <span class="smcap">Augustus</span> will
+occupy the place of honour next to the grand piano, on which, will be
+ranged the framed cabinet photographs of interesting young men. Each
+photograph will bear upon it an appropriate inscription, announcing it
+to be, for instance, a gift "From <span class="smcap">Bobby</span> to <span class="smcap">Toddlekins</span>." Nothing more is
+necessary for the perfect life of dilettantism, except to settle an
+afternoon for tea, and an evening for music. When this is done the
+Dilettante is complete.</p>
+
+<p>It is curious, however, that although he aims at being considered a
+poet, an artist, a dramatist, and a musical composer, the Dilettante
+rather affects the society of those who are amateurs of imperfect
+development, than of those who have attained fame by professional
+effort. Yet since his nature is tolerant, he does not exclude the latter
+from the scope of his benevolence, and they may occasionally be seen at
+his parties, wondering how so strange a medley of second-rate
+incompetencies can have been gathered together into one room.</p>
+
+<p>It is noticeable, that the Dilettante loves the society of ladies, and
+is not averse to encouraging amongst his intimates the belief, which
+none of them holds though all express it, that he is in reality a
+terrible fellow and much given to the destruction of domestic happiness.
+He finds a sense of rest and security in fancying that he is suspected
+of an intrigue. But it is somewhat remarkable, that the evil tongues
+which make sad havoc of many unwilling reputations are very slow to
+gratify the willing Dilettante in this respect. No Dilettante can be
+considered genuine, unless he expresses a pitying contempt for
+everything that is characteristically English, and for the unfortunate
+English who are imbued with the prejudices of their native land. He
+gives a practical expression to his scorn by quavering in a reedy voice,
+the feeble <i>chansonnettes</i> of an inferior French composer, and by
+issuing a volume of poems in which the laws of English Grammar are
+trampled under foot, and the restrictions of English metre are defied.
+In his lyrical effusions he breathes the passionate desire of a great
+soul for Love that is not of the earth. He aspires to the stars, and
+invokes the memory of dead heroes, his intimates. He sets out to win
+imperishable glory amidst the embattled ranks of his country's foes. He
+lashes the cold and cruel heartlessness of the world with a noble scorn.
+He addresses the skeletons of departed friends with passionate longing.
+He finds that life and its gaudy pleasures are as dust and ashes in the
+mouth.</p>
+
+<p>Having read these efforts to an admiring circle, he betakes himself with
+infinite zest to the discussion of aesthetic tittle-tattle over a cup of
+tea and a toasted bun. "Dear fellow," his friends will say of him at
+such a moment, "he is so etherial; and his eyes, did you observe that
+far-away, rapt look in them?" They will then take pleasure in persuading
+one another without much difficulty, that they are the fine flower of
+created beings.</p>
+
+<p>The Dilettante, moreover, is a constant attendant at the first nights of
+certain theatres. He figures with equal regularity as a large element in
+the society gossip of weekly journals. He is a delicate eater and never
+drinks too much out of the Venetian glasses, which his butler ruthlessly
+breaks after the manner of domestics. There is amongst the inner circle
+of the Dilettanti a jargon, both of voice and of gesture, which passes
+muster as humour, but is unintelligible to the outer world of burly
+Philistines. They dangle hands rather than shake them, and emphasise
+their meaning by delicate finger-taps. Their phrases are distinguished
+by a plaintive cadence which is particularly to be remarked in their
+pronunciation of the word "dear."</p>
+
+<p>At charitable concerts in aristocratic drawing-rooms the Dilettante is
+in great request. On these occasions, he astonishes and delights his
+friends with a new song, of which, he will have composed both the words
+and the music, if he may be believed, whilst he was leaning from his
+casement "watching the procession of the moon-lit clouds." He sometimes
+smokes cigarettelets (a word must be coined to express their size and
+strength), but he never attempts cigars, and loathes the homely pipe. In
+gait and manner he affects a mincing delicacy, by which he seeks to
+impress the thoughtless with a sense of his superior refinement. In
+later life, he is apt to lose his hair, and to disguise the ravages of
+time upon his cheeks by the aid of <i>rouge</i>. Yet he deceives nobody, and
+having grown stout and wheezy is eventually carried off by a common cold
+in an odour of <i>pastilles</i>. He will be buried in a wicker-work coffin
+covered with lilies, and a rival Dilettante having written a limp and
+limping sonnet to his memory, will take his evening.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>COMIC SLAUGHTER!</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>The Story of the Next Battle, written in advance for Next Month's
+"Powder Magazine," by a Soldier in the Ranks.</i>)</center>
+
+<p>The Victory of Rumtumidity was certainly one of the most amusing things
+I ever saw in my life. We landed at six o'clock in the evening, and
+finding a grog-shop, were soon gone coons. Speaking for myself, I saw
+the colours of the Regiment magnified by twenty! Well, we were ordered
+to march, and off we started, staggering along in fine style. Out came
+the moon, and one of us fell down in a dead faint.</p>
+
+<p>"Suffering from sunstroke!" said the Surgeon, who was a Welsh Irishman.
+"Leave him in the sand, and he will soon come to himself when he finds
+you gone&mdash;if he doesn't, the vultures will hasten his movements."</p>
+
+<p>This jest made us all laugh. Our Captain hearing one of us roaring a
+trifle too loud, put his sword through him. Immense!</p>
+
+<p>We marched along to the music of the prisoners, who yelled out bravely
+when they were prodded by the guards set over them.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you see the like!" said <span class="smcap">Tim O'Flanagan</span> (from Edinburgh), who, no
+doubt, would have developed the idea, had not his head at that moment
+been carried off by a cannon-ball. Very comic!</p>
+
+<p>"Now, my lads," said our Captain, who wasn't much of an orator, "look
+here&mdash;England expects every man to do his duty; and, if you don't, why
+<i>I</i> am having you all watched, and, as sure as beans is beans, the
+laggards will be bayoneted."</p>
+
+<p>This little speech had the desired effect, especially after it had been
+strengthened by a double ration of grog.</p>
+
+<p>Then came the order to charge. We charged, and killed everyone we saw,
+including our own officers. This simplified matters. A little later the
+whole place was in our hands. Rumtumidity was taken!</p>
+
+<p>Then came the order to bury the dead. But we did more&mdash;<i>we buried the
+living with them</i>! Oh, how it made us laugh! Then came supper, and we
+amused ourselves by telling to one another our adventures. I was just
+recounting how I had emptied the pockets of a deceased officer,
+when&mdash;"whisk!"&mdash;up came a cannon-ball and struck me! I was able to say
+nothing more at that time; as, when the cannon-ball had passed, I found
+it had left me defunct! And I have been dead ever since. My companion
+and chum, whose name I must not give without permission, will vouch for
+every word I've said.</p>
+
+<p class="regards">(<i>Signed</i>)</p>
+
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">A. Munchausen</span>,<br />
+
+<i>Late Lance-Ensign, the Lincoln Longbowers</i>.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>
+
+<h2>"ENGLISH, YOU KNOW, QUITE ENGLISH."</h2>
+
+<p>Perhaps, the good old rule that, "You should never look a gift-horse in
+the mouth," cannot be so rigorously applied to gifts of pictures to the
+Nation as to other things. Nevertheless, Mr. <span class="smcap">Tate's</span> munificent proffer
+of his Collection to the National Gallery, is surely too good a thing to
+be missed through matters of mere detail. <i>Mr. Punch's</i> view is&mdash;well,
+despite <i>Touchstone's</i> attack on "the very false gallop of verses,"
+there are two things that come most insinuatingly in metre; offers of
+love, and of friendly advice:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">English</span> Art no longer paints</p>
+<p class="i0">Those "squint-eyed Byzantine saints"</p>
+<p class="i0">Mr. <span class="smcap">Orrock</span> so disparages.</p>
+<p class="i0">Martyrdoms and Cana Marriages</p>
+<p class="i0">Over-stock our great Art Gallery,</p>
+<p class="i0">Giving ground for <span class="smcap">Orrock's</span> raillery.</p>
+<p class="i0">Scenes in desert dim, or dun stable,</p>
+<p class="i0">Than Green English lanes by <span class="smcap">Constable</span></p>
+<p class="i0">Are less welcome, or brown rocks</p>
+<p class="i0">And grey streams by <span class="smcap">David Cox</span>.</p>
+<p class="i0">Saint Sebastian's death? Far sweeter</p>
+<p class="i0">Sylvan scenes by honest <span class="smcap">Peter</span>;</p>
+<p class="i0">There's a charm in dear <span class="smcap">De Wint</span></p>
+<p class="i0">Cannot be conveyed in print.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Verdant landscapes, sea-scapes cool,</p>
+<p class="i0">Painted by the English School.</p>
+<p class="i0">Must be welcome to our British</p>
+<p class="i0">Taste, which is not grim or skittish;</p>
+<p class="i0">Rather Philistine, it may be.</p>
+<p class="i0">Sweet on cornfields and the Baby;</p>
+<p class="i0">Yet of <span class="smcap">Romney's</span> grace no spurner,</p>
+<p class="i0">Or the golden dreams of <span class="smcap">Turner</span>.</p>
+<p class="i0">Moral? Will a moral, bless us!</p>
+<p class="i0">Comes like that old shirt of <span class="smcap">Nessus</span>.</p>
+<p class="i0">Still, here goes! An Art-official</p>
+<p class="i0">Should be genial, but judicial.</p>
+<p class="i0">When an Art-Collection's national,</p>
+<p class="i0">It is obviously rational</p>
+<p class="i0">It should be a bit eclectic,</p>
+<p class="i0">Weeding out the crude or hectic.</p>
+<p class="i0">He who'd have his country's honour,</p>
+<p class="i0">As a liberal Art-donor,</p>
+<p class="i0">Thinks more of his country's fame</p>
+<p class="i0">Than of <i>his</i> particular name.</p>
+<p class="i0">Would you win true reputation</p>
+<p class="i0">As benefactor of the Nation.</p>
+<p class="i0">Trust me 'tis not "special room"</p>
+<p class="i0">Keeps <i>that</i> glory in full bloom.</p>
+<p class="i0"><i>Punch</i> is a plain-speaking chap;</p>
+<p class="i0">Here's his view of things. <i>Verb. sap.</i>!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 15%">
+<a href="images/137a.png">
+<img src="images/137a.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Pictures in the Haymarket</span>.&mdash;"And there stood the 'tater-man, In the
+midst of all the wet; A vending of his taters in the lonely Haymarket."
+So sang one of the greatest of <i>Mr. Punch's</i> singers, years agone. If he
+had sung in the present day, he would have substituted pictures for
+'taters; for surely this pleasant thorough-fare has become a mart for
+pictures and players rather than potatoes. Look in at <span class="smcap">Tooth's</span> Gallery,
+and you will stay a long while, indeed you will age considerably, and
+may be said to be "long in the <span class="smcap">Tooth</span>," before you come out, as you will
+find the exhibition so paletteable. Then having refreshed your eye with
+the spring sunshine&mdash;if there happens to be any about&mdash;you will turn
+into <span class="smcap">McLean's</span> <i>salon</i> and see a marvellous picture of Jaffa, by <span class="smcap">G.
+Bauernfeind</span>, and other works by English and foreign painters. The County
+Council will have to change the title of this street into the A-market,
+"A" standing for Art, of course.</p><br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/137b.png">
+<img src="images/137b.png" width="100%" alt="A Fancy Portrait" /></a><br /><br />
+<p>A Fancy Portrait of my Laundress, judging by her
+Handiwork.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE GRAND OLD HAT.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">When this old hat was new,</p>
+<p class="i2">('Tis not so many years,)</p>
+<p class="i0">My followers did not view</p>
+<p class="i2">My course with doubts and fears.</p>
+<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Chamberlain</span> then would praise,</p>
+<p class="i2">And <span class="smcap">Henry James</span> was true;</p>
+<p class="i0">Ah! this was in the days</p>
+<p class="i2">When this old hat was new.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">When this old hat was new</p>
+<p class="i2">My head was smaller&mdash;yes!</p>
+<p class="i0">Now I'd have much ado</p>
+<p class="i2">To get it on, I guess.</p>
+<p class="i0">The cause I cannot tell,</p>
+<p class="i2">I only know 'tis true;</p>
+<p class="i0">My head has seemed to swell</p>
+<p class="i2">Since this old hat was new.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Perhaps, as some maintain,</p>
+<p class="i2">My cranium may have grown,</p>
+<p class="i0">Owing to stretch of brain,</p>
+<p class="i2">Or thickening of bone.</p>
+<p class="i0">"The hat has shrunk?" Eh? What?</p>
+<p class="i2"><i>That</i> nonsense will not do!</p>
+<p class="i0">My head <i>has</i> grown, a lot,</p>
+<p class="i2">Since this old hat was new.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">What <span class="smcap">Tyndall</span> dares to call,</p>
+<p class="i2">In wrath, my "traitorous" head,</p>
+<p class="i0">Is "growing still," that's all;</p>
+<p class="i2">(Of "<span class="smcap">Marian</span>" this was said)</p>
+<p class="i0">My cranial vertex flat?</p>
+<p class="i2">Pah! Tories may pooh-pooh;</p>
+<p class="i0">I wore a smaller hat</p>
+<p class="i2">When this old hat was new!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The New Bishop of Durham.&mdash;Westcott</span> and,&mdash;no, Bishops don't wear
+them&mdash;so His Reverend Lordship will be known as "<span class="smcap">Westcott</span> and Apron."</p><br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>ODE ON A BLACK BALL.</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>A Fragment, some way after Addison, picked up in the neighbourhood of
+the Athen&aelig;um Club.</i>)</center>
+
+<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">What though in solemn silence all</p>
+<p class="i0">Drop in the dark the fatal ball?</p>
+<p class="i0">What though no overt voice or sound</p>
+<p class="i0">Amidst the voting throng be found?</p>
+<p class="i0">In reason's ear they speak of choice,</p>
+<p class="i0">And utter forth a boding voice,</p>
+<p class="i0">Saying, as silent they recline,</p>
+<p class="i0">"Your company we must decline!"</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Piping Times for the Empire.</span>&mdash;The bagpipes were not heard playing, "<i>The
+Campbells are Coming</i>," at the relief of Lucknow. Why? Because the
+regiment hadn't got any. The regimental bagpipes were first introduced
+by Mr. <span class="smcap">Boucicault</span>, in his drama of <i>The Relief of Lucknow</i> (that was the
+subject, whatever the name might have been) at Astley's. Miss <span class="smcap">Amy
+Roselle's</span> recitation of the thrilling story specially written for her by
+Mr. <span class="smcap">Savile Clarke</span> is most dramatic, and thrills the audience at the
+Empire. The journalistic discussion, as to the pipes, comes in very
+appropriately, and will assist to raise the wind and pay the piper. This
+recitation, is a great "Relief" to the ordinary Music-hall
+entertainments, and the Empire has "Luck now."</p><br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>"PROPRIA QU&AElig; MARIBUS."</h2>
+
+<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Penthesilea</span> straddling on the pigskin?</p>
+<p class="i2">Surely a male biped need not dwell</p>
+<p class="i0">In a prejudiced pedantic prig's skin,</p>
+<p class="i2">Not to like that prospect passing well.</p>
+<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Carlyle</span>, who scoffed at Man, had deemed it caddish</p>
+<p class="i0">To picture <i>Woman</i> as "a mere forked radish."</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Dear Diana after hounds a riding</p>
+<p class="i2">Like&mdash;a clothes-peg on a clothes-line? Nay!</p>
+<p class="i0">Rub out all unnatural laws dividing</p>
+<p class="i2">Sex from sex,&mdash;'tis the World's drift to-day.</p>
+<p class="i0">Let ladies mount the 'bus, or Hansom Cab it,</p>
+<p class="i0">But let not custom new banish old Habit.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Paint, write poems, pose as prandial wit, Ma'am,</p>
+<p class="i2">Perorate upon the public platform;</p>
+<p class="i0">Even in the County Council sit, Ma'am,</p>
+<p class="i2">If Law lets you, and your taste takes that form;</p>
+<p class="i0">But take <i>Punch's</i> tip, and do not straddle;</p>
+<p class="i0">Stick to common-sense and the side-saddle.</p>
+</div></div>
+<br />
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/137c.png">
+<img src="images/137c.png" width="100%" alt="Lines on the Labour Conference" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<h4>Lines on the Labour Conference.</h4>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The youthful German Emperor may try</p>
+<p class="i2">By Socialistic plans to prop his rule.</p>
+<p class="i0">Some think 'twill all result in a great cry,</p>
+<p class="i2">And little (Berlin) wool.</p>
+<p class="i0">Still, all good souls will wish young <span class="smcap">William</span> luck.</p>
+<p class="i2">The Teutons may not relish Swiss suggestion,</p>
+<p class="i0">But anyhow it shows the Emperor's pluck</p>
+<p class="i2">In handling <i>Berne</i>-ing questions.</p>
+</div></div><br />
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<center><i>Q.</i> Shall Privates in uniform be admitted to the stalls and boxes in
+theatres? <i>A.</i> Certainly, if covered with "Orders." Private Boxes
+henceforth will be Boxes for Privates.</center><br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/138.png">
+<img src="images/138.png" width="100%" alt="WEATHER STUDIES" /></a>
+<h4>WEATHER STUDIES.</h4>
+</div>
+
+<div class="centered table">
+<table summary="WEATHER STUDIES">
+<tr><td>"<span class="smcap">Only a Face at a Window!"&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></td><td>&nbsp;|&nbsp;</td>
+<td>&nbsp;<span class="smcap">"Only a Face&mdash;nothing more!</span>"</td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>"GRANDOLPHO FURIOSO!"</h2>
+
+<center><i>Mr. Punch loquitur:&mdash;</i></center>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">"Begone brave army, don't kick up a row!"&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Grandolpho</span> mine, it were sheer superfluity</p>
+<p class="i0">For you to <i>bid</i> your forces scatter <i>now</i>.</p>
+<p class="i2">The troopers two, of curious incongruity,</p>
+<p class="i0">With the long drummer, and the fifer short,</p>
+<p class="i2">That formed the old stage-army were more numerous</p>
+<p class="i0">Than is your following. You have given us sport</p>
+<p class="i2">In many scenes, but this is hardly humorous.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The general of <span class="smcap">Artaxominous</span></p>
+<p class="i2">Was far less terrible than&mdash;well, thrasonic.</p>
+<p class="i0">To tear a thing to tatters, shout and "cuss,"</p>
+<p class="i2">In an assembly callous and sardonic,</p>
+<p class="i0">Savours a bit too much of sheer burlesque,</p>
+<p class="i2">Scarce to the level of fine acting rises.</p>
+<p class="i0">The unexpected's piquant, picturesque,</p>
+<p class="i2">But a sound drama is not <i>all</i> surprises.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Thought you had taken to the "Temperance" line,</p>
+<p class="i2">This looks much more like angry inebriety.</p>
+<p class="i0">A little freakishness is vastly fine,</p>
+<p class="i2">But even of surprise there comes satiety.</p>
+<p class="i0">If you and <span class="smcap">Fusbos Jennings</span> can't agree,</p>
+<p class="i2">There seems small prospect of a growing Party,</p>
+<p class="i0"><i>Verb. sap.</i> They thought <span class="smcap">Bombastes</span> dead, you see.</p>
+<p class="i2">But the <i>finale</i> found him up, and hearty!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Out of It.</span>&mdash;The Amazons who doff the skirt, and don the, the&mdash;other
+things, can never be considered in Rotten Row as "<i>habitu&eacute;es</i>."</p>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>HE CAN'T ALP IT!</h2>
+
+<blockquote><p>"My only desire is to meet you on the terms on which long ago we
+stood when you gallantly offered to take me up the
+Matterhorn."&mdash;<i>Mr. Gladstone's Letter to Professor Tyndall.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Gladstone</span> <i>and</i> Professor <span class="smcap">Tyndall</span> <i>discovered seated on the edge of
+a Crevasse</i>.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. Gladstone.</i> I didn't know a glacier was so frightfully slippery.</p>
+
+<p><i>Prof. Tyndall.</i> Slippery&mdash;ha! Like <i>some</i> politicians I might mention!</p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. Gladstone.</i> That last avalanche, too, bowled us over so neatly that
+I feel distinctly limp.</p>
+
+<p><i>Prof. Tyndall (severely).</i> You should try and avoid this "subserviency
+to outside influences." I always do.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. Gladstone (ignoring the remark).</i> What range is that over there?</p>
+
+<p><i>Prof. Tyndall.</i> The Pennine Alps, stoopid! From their name they would
+seem a suitable residence for a person who scribbles twaddle in
+Magazines&mdash;ahem! No personal allusion, of course.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. Gladstone (gaily).</i> Of course not! But isn't it rather dangerous
+sitting here, with that bank of snow just above us? Suppose it came down
+on us!</p>
+
+<p><i>Prof. Tyndall.</i> As the Judges came down on your Parnellite allies, eh?
+Perhaps, as we're getting to some nasty places, we might be tied
+together now.</p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. Gladstone (warmly).</i> Quite so. A union of hearts, in fact.</p>
+
+<p class="salute">[<i>After a few hours' more climbing, they reach the summit of the
+Matterhorn.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Prof. Tyndall.</i> Sorry to leave you, but you see I only promised to take
+you up, not to see you safe down again. Ta, ta! I may as well mention
+that I consider you a "ubiquitous blast-furn&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p class="salute">[<i>Disappears suddenly over the edge.</i></p>
+
+<p><i>Mr. Gladstone.</i> Dear me! what dreadful language! And he appears to have
+cut the rope! He must be a Separatist, after all! If it were <span class="smcap">Pitt</span>, now,
+I should call his conduct rather "base and blackguardly." Perhaps I
+shall meet the "Professor at the Tea-Table"&mdash;at Zermatt!</p>
+<p class="salute">[<i>Descends cautiously.</i></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE BURGLAR'S BACK.<sup><a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></sup></h2>
+
+<blockquote><p>"Lord <span class="smcap">Esher</span> is greatly concerned about the probable condition of a
+burglar's back after a couple of floggings."&mdash;<i>Times.</i></p></blockquote>
+
+<center><span class="smcap">Air</span>&mdash;"<i>Those Evening Bells.</i>"</center>
+
+<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The burglar's back, the burglar's back!</p>
+<p class="i0">'Twill soon be rash a crib to crack.</p>
+<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Bill Sikes</span> will sigh for happier times,</p>
+<p class="i0">When "cats" were not the meed of crimes.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The burglar's back! Lord <span class="smcap">Esher</span> pales</p>
+<p class="i0">When thinking of its crimson wales.</p>
+<p class="i0">His feelings will not stand the strain,</p>
+<p class="i0">Of dwelling on the ruffian's pain.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">The brute may "bash," the scoundrel shoot,</p>
+<p class="i0">Hack with his knife, "purr" with his boot;</p>
+<p class="i0">But though he "bash," or "purr," or hack,</p>
+<p class="i0">You must not touch the burglar's back.</p>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">No, let the brutal burglar burgle;</p>
+<p class="i0">Whilst sentiment will calmly gurgle</p>
+<p class="i0">Bland platitudes, but not attack</p>
+<p class="i0">That sacred thing, the burglar's back!</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a>
+"<i>The Burglar's Back</i>"&mdash;Is he? then the sooner he's caught
+and sent to penal servitude the better.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Ed.</span></p></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%">
+<a href="images/139.png">
+<img src="images/139.png" width="100%" alt="GRANDOLPHO FURIOSO" /></a>
+<h4>"GRANDOLPHO FURIOSO!"</h4>
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Punch.</span> "HULLO, GRANDOLPH! I THOUGHT YOU'D TAKEN TO
+'<i>TEMPERANCE</i>'!!"</p>
+</div>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>
+
+<h2>"MAY FARE WORSE!"</h2>
+
+<center><i>Or, The Difference between Goode and Baird.</i></center>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/141.png">
+<img src="images/141.png" width="100%" alt="Chancery Practice" /></a>
+<h4>Chancery Practice.</h4>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">What a sweet little supper!&mdash;two fire-eating "pros.,"</p>
+<p class="i2">And a person "of no occupation,"</p>
+<p class="i0">Who got both his eyes blacked and was cut on the nose,</p>
+<p class="i2">Though "there wasn't the least provocation."</p>
+<p class="i0">And they cursed and they throttled, they gouged, and they swore,</p>
+<p class="i0">And they battered and bled, and they tumbled and tore,</p>
+<p class="i0">And they fetched the police, and they rolled down the stair,</p>
+<p class="i0">Did these blue-blooded dwellers in merry Mayfair.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Arthur Cockburn</span> will probably not want to see Mr. <span class="smcap">Baird</span> in bed
+again, the penalty being two black eyes (no relation to the two that
+were lovely), and a cut nose. What's the good of being called <span class="smcap">Goode</span> if
+you are going to get your eyes gouged out, and be beaten on the head
+with a poker, and, in fact worsted all round? But there, if one
+gentleman is "slightly intoxicated," while another is "undoubtedly
+drunk," and a third is "slightly mixed," there's no knowing what may
+happen. Did <span class="smcap">Goode</span> "keep his hair on" when he got hit on the head with a
+poker? What a beautiful picture of genuine Mayfair manners it is! The
+case is still <i>sub (Punch and) judice</i>, and Mr. Justice <i>Punch</i> reserves
+his decision.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2>
+
+<p><i>Cassell's Cabinet Portrait Gallery.</i> In Number One are met together the
+Duke and Duchess of <span class="smcap">Fife, Sarah Bernhardt</span> as <i>Theodora</i>, and the
+Archbishop of <span class="smcap">Canterbury</span>, the last very properly looking another way. In
+Vol. II. there is rather a nice one of Mrs. <span class="smcap">Stirling</span> and <span class="smcap">Mary Anderson</span>,
+but the photographer ought to have been more careful about the little
+finger of <span class="smcap">Mary's</span> right hand. In Vol. III., <span class="smcap">James Payn</span>, reading a
+manuscript, with his spectacles up on his forehead, is very good. The
+picture of H.R.H. the Prince, in uniform, is too dark, and his
+expression is severe. Charming and clever Miss <span class="smcap">Maud Millett</span> is in Part
+IV., followed by the Duke of <span class="smcap">Westminster</span> and Mr. <span class="smcap">Lewis Morris</span>, the Poet
+looking so awe-struck, that he must have been taken by surprise, and
+been "struck like it." Miss <span class="smcap">Anna Williams</span> leads off No. V., and, to
+express it musically, she is accompanied by the Duke of <span class="smcap">Connaught</span>. Sir
+<span class="smcap">James Linton</span> appears for the Water-colourists. In Part VI. the face of
+Mr. <span class="smcap">Frank Lockwood</span>, Q.C., M.P., is full of light and shade, more light
+than shade, fortunately, and it is a really good likeness. The Duchess
+of <span class="smcap">Leinster</span> looks lovely, and Sig. <span class="smcap">Piatti</span> uncommonly wise as he guards
+his 'cello.</p>
+
+<p>Neatly and concisely done is Mr. <span class="smcap">Besant's</span> <i>Captain Cook</i>, published in
+the <span class="smcap">Macmillan</span> Series of <i>English Men of Action</i>. He discovered the
+Society Islands, whence, of course, are obtained our present supply of
+Society Papers. The natives of these Society Islands made great use of
+their Clubs, some of which proved fatal to Captain <span class="smcap">Cook</span> and his men.</p>
+
+<p>Captain <span class="smcap">Cook</span>, had he been alive now, would have been among the first to
+appreciate <i>The Pocket Atlas</i>, in which the names of the chief places
+are clear enough for all practical purposes. There are seventy-two maps,
+and the publisher bears the honoured name of <span class="smcap">Walker</span>, though the map is
+not specially intended for the use of pedestrians.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Macmillan &amp; Co.'s</span> cheap edition of <span class="smcap">Charles Kingsley's</span> works is
+deservedly popular; easy to carry, good clean type, so that those who
+ride may read. <i>Two Years Ago</i> is just out. By the way, the same firm's
+<span class="smcap">Charlotte Yonge</span> and the other <span class="smcap">Kingsley</span> Series, make a noble show in a
+library, on our "noble shelves." "<span class="smcap">Mac &amp; Co.</span>"&mdash;<i>i.e.</i>, the "Two
+<span class="smcap">Macs</span>"&mdash;are to be congratulated; and, that being so, the Baron hereby and
+herewith congratulates them.</p>
+
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">The Baron de Book-worms.</span></p><br />
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G's. Head.</span>&mdash;A "<span class="smcap">Duke</span>" writing to the <i>St. James's Gazette</i> last
+Thursday, joined in the discussion about Mr. <span class="smcap">Gladstone's</span> head, and
+observed that hats shrink, and that certain hatters, exceptionally sane,
+whose evidence can be trusted, allowed for the decrease in size. But do
+they allow for this in the bills? Is the decrease there proportionate?
+Considering what Mr. <span class="smcap">Gladstone</span> once was, a Tory of the Tories, and what
+he is now, is it to be wondered at that a considerable change should
+have been going on in Mr. <span class="smcap">Gladstone's</span> head? Why he is finishing poles
+apart from where he commenced!</p><br />
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<center><span class="smcap">The</span> King of the National Picture Donors is henceforth "the Potent <span class="smcap">Tate</span>."</center>
+<br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>MR. PUNCH'S DICTIONARY OF PHRASES.</h2>
+
+<center>(<i>Which will be found useful in explaining certain Conventional Forms of
+Expression. Compiled by Professor Von Hombugh.</i>)</center><br />
+
+<center><span class="smcap">Journalistic.</span></center>
+
+<p>"<i>The Police have a clue.</i>" <i>Meaning</i>&mdash;"The Police know nothing about
+it, and are doing all they know."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>An exceptionally experienced Detective has charge of the case, and is
+actively engaged in investigating all matters concerning it</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>,
+"A promoted constable in plain clothes is loafing about the neighbouring
+public-houses, and standing drinks, generally without the exercise of
+much discrimination, to unlikely people."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>A young Woman of prepossessing appearance</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "A rather showy
+female."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>The Police are, however, very reticent about the whole affair</i>;"
+<i>i.e.</i>, "When ignorance is rife, 'tis folly to give tongue."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>It is believed that the most important discoveries will result from
+the investigations now in progress</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "Nothing is known as to
+whether anything is being done: but it finishes off the paragraph, and
+sounds well."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>I am assured on the best authority, that there is no truth in the
+rumour that H.S.H. the Prince of Katzendlenbogen has been laid up with
+chicken-pox</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "As there's no news, I may as well invent some,
+for the sake of contradicting it."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>As everybody knows</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "I have a certain space to fill, and
+nothing new to say, so I'll tell an ancient story, or bring in
+<span class="smcap">Macaulay's</span> New Zealander."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>As all the world knows</i>," "except myself (the writer), who has met
+with the information for the first time in a most valuable book of
+reference."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>We regret to hear that, &amp;c.</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "Our sorrow is tempered by the
+fact that we are utter strangers to the individual in question, and that
+his or her affliction provides us with a certain amount of 'copy.'"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>The hall was tastefully decorated</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, two hired flags and an
+evergreen hoop.</p>
+
+<center><span class="smcap">Social.</span></center>
+
+<p>"<i>How are you? Haven't seen you for an age!</i>" <i>i.e.</i>, "Didn't expect to
+see you, and didn't want to."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Not at Home</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "Doesn't she know that I've got a 'day?' Not
+that I want to see her even <i>then</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Of course I should have known it anywhere. I think you've caught the
+likeness most wonderfully!</i>" <i>i.e.</i>, "Why the deuce doesn't he tell one
+whom it's meant for?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Small and early</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "No supper, and something which will count
+as 'a party,' at the least possible cost and trouble."</p>
+
+<center><span class="smcap">Theatrical.</span></center>
+
+<p>"<i>The Management regrets that, owing to previous arrangements, the piece
+must be withdrawn in the height of its popularity</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "Not
+drawing a shilling, company fearfully expensive, sooner we shut up the
+better."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>House full! Money turned away nightly</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, Crammed with paper,
+two persons who wanted to pay for pit were refused admission by way of
+advertising.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>The new Play will probably be produced during the Summer at a West End
+Theatre</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "The author has had his comedy returned by every
+Manager in London, with the remark, that 'although excellent, it is
+scarcely suited to his present company.'"</p>
+
+<center><span class="smcap">Platformulars.</span></center>
+
+<p>"<i>It would ill become me, after the able and eloquent speech of your
+Chairman</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "What on earth is the name of that retired
+cheesemonger who talked rubbish, and mispronounced my name?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>When I look at this splendid meeting</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "I wonder why those
+back benches are empty. Some bungling on the part of the Secretary, as
+usual."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>I shall have to return to this subject later on</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "Can't
+remember anything more at present."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>If we all work shoulder to shoulder</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "Must say 'shoulder to
+shoulder,' or 'shoulders to the wheel,' or, 'leave no stone unturned,'
+in every speech."</p>
+
+<center><span class="smcap">Workmen's.</span></center>
+
+<p>"<i>Well, I don't care if I do!</i>" <i>i.e.</i>, "Haven't had a drink for half an
+hour&mdash;waiting for you to stand treat this ten minutes past."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Ah! he's a Gentleman, he is, every hinch of him!</i>" <i>i.e.</i>, He has
+"parted" freely, or "tipped" liberally.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>He's about as stingy as they make 'em</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, He has declined to be
+abominally overcharged.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Could you tell me wot's about the right time, Guv'nor?</i>" <i>i.e.</i>,
+"Isn't it about time to send me up some more beer?"</p>
+
+<center><span class="smcap">Advertising.</span></center>
+
+<p>"<i>A Lady is desirous of recommending</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "Getting rid of."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>The Property of a Gentleman going abroad</i>;" <i>i.e.</i>, "Mr. <span class="smcap">Brooks</span> (of
+Sheffield)."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Owner's sole Reason for parting with him is</i>"&mdash;<i>i.e.</i>, "The one he
+omits to mention." (<i>To be continued.</i>)</p><br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%">
+<a href="images/142.png">
+<img src="images/142.png" width="100%" alt="THE HOUSE OF COMMONS ALL SIXES AND SEVENS" /></a>
+<h4>THE HOUSE OF COMMONS ALL SIXES AND SEVENS.</h4>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>
+
+<h2>"O RARE 'BEN'!"</h2>
+
+<p>In aid of The Actor's Benevolent Fund, the Irving Amateur Dramatic Club
+are going to give a performance of <i>Henry IV. (Part I.)</i>, at the Lyceum
+Theatre, Saturday afternoon, March 29, when in consequence of H.R.H. The
+Princess of <span class="smcap">Wales</span> having accorded her gracious patronage, the Welsh song
+will be sung by Miss <span class="smcap">Eleanor Rees</span> on the stage, as <i>Lady Mortimer</i>,
+which will be a melodious illustration of rhyme and <span class="smcap">Rees</span>-on. The
+Amateurs appearing for the Actors is as it should be. The President of
+the Club is <span class="smcap">Henry</span>, not the Fourth, but the First, yclept <span class="smcap">Henry Irving</span>,
+and the Vice, with numberless virtues, is Mr. <span class="smcap">Justin McCarthy</span>, M.P.,
+whom if it be <span class="smcap">Justin</span> Pater (not <span class="smcap">Justin Martyr</span>), we should like to have
+seen in spectacles in the Tavern Scene, as <i>Francis</i> the Drawer,&mdash;a
+drawer would have been an immense attraction. If <span class="smcap">Justin</span> Junior could
+play the other Drawer, the attraction would be doubled. "Sure such a
+pair!" But we must not jest in too Shakspearian a manner. We hope the
+Actors' Benevolent will benefit largely by the acting of the Benevolent
+Amateurs. Let the Benevolent Public too go and see <i>Henry IV. (Part
+1st)</i>, and let them "part first."</p>
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<center><span class="smcap">Note</span> (<i>by One who doesn't pretend to know French</i>). The Tirard Cabinet
+couldn't go on, because it was too Tirard!!</center><br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 45%">
+<a href="images/143.png">
+<img src="images/143.png" width="100%" alt="ARTISTIC POSTPRANDIALISM" /></a>
+<h4>ARTISTIC POSTPRANDIALISM.</h4>
+<p><i>Painter.</i> "<span class="smcap">I hope I shall have the pleasure of hearing you play
+to-night!</span>"</p>
+<p><i>Musician.</i> "<span class="smcap">Ach, no! After Tinner, Music is tiscosting! Let us co round
+and look at ze putiful Bictures togezzer&mdash;ja?</span>"</p>
+<p><i>Painter.</i> "<span class="smcap">What! <i>Pictures!</i> After <i>Dinner</i>! The very idea makes me
+sick</span>!"</p>
+<p class="salute">[<i>Exeunt, to play Poker.</i>]</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE NEW AMAZON.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza">
+<p class="i0">Ride-a-cock horse</p>
+<p class="i0">To Banbury Cross,</p>
+<p class="i0">To see a young Lady</p>
+<p class="i0">A-straddle, o'course.</p>
+<p class="i2">If the new notion</p>
+<p class="i4">Very far goes,</p>
+<p class="i2">What she'll do next</p>
+<p class="i4">Nobody knows.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Spectacular.</span>&mdash;How is it that among the guests at the Livery
+Dinner&mdash;(ugh! horrid expression! Yet I dare say the dinner wasn't more
+livery than any other City banquet)&mdash;of the Spectacle Makers' Company,
+were not to be found <span class="smcap">Augustus Druriolanus</span>, quite the best spectacle
+maker in London, and that from among the list of toasts as reported,
+Art, Literature, and the Drama were omitted? Through what spectacles do
+the Spectacle Makers see?</p><br />
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Reflection on the Recent Valuable Discovery at Canterbury.</span>&mdash;If cremation
+had been the practice in 1228 there would have been no remains of
+<span class="smcap">Stephen Langton</span> to-day. Without the remains of the Archbishop, is it
+likely that the treasures, historically so valuable, would have been
+permitted to come down to us?</p><br />
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C. M. Woodford</span> has just brought out a book entitled <i>A Naturalist
+among the Head Hunters</i>. Ahem! It doesn't sound nice. Is it procurable
+at every hairdresser's?</p><br />
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<center>"<span class="smcap">Betterment</span>,"&mdash;Well-meant.</center><br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2>
+
+<center>EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</center>
+
+<p><i>House of Commons, May 9.</i>&mdash;This has been great occasion for Windbag
+<span class="smcap">Sexton</span>. Excelled himself, and there is no other point of comparison
+useful or usable. <span class="smcap">Saunderson</span>, who always takes friendly views of his
+countrymen opposite, pleads that <span class="smcap">Sexton's</span> windbaggism is partly due to
+his birth. In Ireland, he assures me, a mile is longer than in other
+parts of the Empire; and so, kind-hearted Colonel pleads, some allowance
+should be made for <span class="smcap">Sexton</span> when he gets on the oratorical tramp. That's
+all very well; but, for a man to talk two hours and three-quarters in a
+so-called Debate, is even more than the national tendency towards
+exaggeration illustrated by the Irish mile will excuse. Why couldn't
+<span class="smcap">Sexton</span> have windbagged on some day of last week? Suppose, for example,
+his self-sacrificing friends had made a House for him at a quarter to
+nine on Friday night, and he had then talked for three hours and a
+quarter?&mdash;or on Wednesday there was opportunity; whilst openings might
+have been made on Tuesday or Thursday.</p>
+
+<p>"No, <span class="smcap">Toby</span>," said <span class="smcap">Sexton</span>, when I suggested this in interests of House and
+public time, "you're a well-meaning fellow, but you don't understand
+everything. You see in debate of this kind all principal men stand off
+till the last day. We might have twinkled on several days of last week,
+but we prefer to coruscate on last night. Sure of an audience; Whips
+out; crowds in; excitement everywhere. I and <span class="smcap">Harcourt</span>, and <span class="smcap">Chamberlain</span>,
+and <span class="smcap">Balfour</span>, all save ourselves for the last night. Can't all speak,
+perhaps, especially if I get on first: but they must take their chance.
+With the Universe waiting and listening for me, other things and other
+people must stand aside. Very serious thing to disappoint the Universe."</p>
+
+<p>So <span class="smcap">Sexton</span>, rising at five o'clock, with the windbag conveniently
+disposed under arm, pumped and pumped away for two mortal hours, and an
+odd three-quarters that seemed more than mortal. <span class="smcap">Grandolph</span> waiting to
+make a speech; <span class="smcap">Arthur Balfour</span> longing to be at 'em. Members knowing what
+was in store, "expecting," as <span class="smcap">Sheehy</span> said, that "every moment would be
+his next." But <span class="smcap">Sexton</span> flowed on for ever, with aggravating pauses, with
+a smile of sublime, unruffled satisfaction, that made the position ten
+times as aggravating as it otherwise would have been. To smile and
+smile, and play such a villanous trick as this on a suffering House was
+worse than most disordered fancy painted.</p>
+
+<p>"If," said <span class="smcap">Arthur Balfour</span>, in one of his agonised asides, "the fellow
+did not undisguisedly enjoy such supreme happiness, our lot would be
+more bearable."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind," said <span class="smcap">Old Morality</span>. "Bad enough, I admit. But do you know
+why persons are sometimes killed by having a charcoal fire in their
+bedrooms? Because the carbon of burning charcoal unites with the oxygen
+of air, and forms carbonic acid gas, which is a narcotic poison. So it
+is here. <span class="smcap">Sexton</span> has got hold of some good points; he is not inapt as a
+speaker; if his inordinate vanity had only permitted him to be satisfied
+with occupying time of House for half an hour, or, say, three-quarters,
+he would have made damaging speech; as it is, he wearies House to death,
+swamps us all and himself in waste of verbiage, and the people he
+attacks escape in the general misery. In other words, his carbon of
+burning vanity, uniting with the oxygen of opportunity, forms a speech
+two hours and three-quarters long; which is a narcotic poison."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. G., with the ardour of youth, and the training of an athlete,
+proposed to himself to hear what <span class="smcap">Sexton</span> had to say. Accordingly took up
+convenient seat below Gangway. Stayed there an hour. Then walked back an
+altered man; shattered; aged; almost in a state of coma.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you ought to have known better," I said, somewhat sharply, having
+no sympathies with these vagaries.</p>
+
+<p>"And I was so well and strong when I entered the House," Mr. G. said,
+wearily. "Quite elate with my correspondence with <span class="smcap">Tyndall</span>. Didn't you
+think that a nice turn in the concluding sentence?&mdash;'My only desire is
+to meet you on the terms on which,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> long ago, we stood when, under my
+roof, you gallantly offered to take me up the Matterhorn, <i>and
+guaranteed my safe return</i>! Wouldn't trust myself on the Matterhorn with
+<span class="smcap">Tyndall</span> now;" and Mr. G., warily shaking his head, walked forth in
+search of rest and refreshment.</p>
+
+<p><i>Business done.</i>&mdash;Mr. G.'s Amendment to <span class="smcap">Old Morality's</span> Resolution on
+Parnell Commission Report negatived by 339 votes against 268.</p>
+
+<p><i>Tuesday.</i>&mdash;This has been <span class="smcap">Grandolph's</span> night. Broke the silence of the
+still young Session with memorable speech; been in diligent attendance
+on Debate; sat through interminable speeches with patience only excelled
+by Mr. G.; sometimes looked as if were about to deliver his soul; but
+succeeded in bottling it up. To-night soul drove out the cork; burst
+the bottle, so to speak.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/144a.png">
+<img src="images/144a.png" width="100%" alt="The Reverberating Colomb" /></a>
+<h4>The Reverberating Colomb.</h4>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Grandolph</span> a man of many phases. Tonight presented himself in his highest
+character; a statesman; a champion of constitutional principles at
+whatever expense to prospects and sensibilities of his most revered
+friends on Treasury Bench and elsewhere. Quite a new style of speech for
+<span class="smcap">Grandolph</span>, testifying to remarkable range of his genius. Nothing
+personal: free from acrimony; inspired with profound, unfeigned,
+reverence for constitutional principles. Here and there a touch of
+pathos as he recalled former times when, as <span class="smcap">Dizzy</span> said of <span class="smcap">Peel</span> on a
+famous occasion, "they had been so proud to follow one who had been so
+proud to lead them."</p>
+
+<p>Awful splutter in Ministerial circles. A gleam of delight flashed
+through the shadow when it was discovered that <span class="smcap">Jennings</span> had rebelled
+against <span class="smcap">Randolph's</span> new revolt. "Ha! ha!" said the <span class="smcap">Reverberating Colomb</span>,
+after <span class="smcap">Jennings</span> had made his speech, "the army has dismissed its
+general."</p>
+
+<p>This all very well; not here concerned with <span class="smcap">Grandolph's</span> relations with
+his Party or his faithful friend; merely note that the speech itself
+lifts <span class="smcap">Grandolph</span> once more into the very front rank of political
+personages. The Liberal Party cannot ignore nor the Conservatives
+dispense with the man who made that speech.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Jokim</span> not a particular friend of <span class="smcap">Grandolph's</span>. "Leg quite on other boot,"
+as <span class="smcap">Sheehy</span> says. But he did the enemy a service to-night. To complete
+<span class="smcap">Grandolph's</span> triumph it only required that some Member of the Ministry
+whose ineptitude he had demonstrated should rise and, with loud voice,
+ungainly gestures, drag the Debate down from the heights to which it had
+been lifted, debasing it by personal attacks hoarsely shrieked across
+the table at former friends and colleagues. <span class="smcap">Jokim</span> did this amidst
+uproarious cheers from <span class="smcap">Johnston</span> of Ballykilbeg, who began to think that,
+after all, there is something in the Right Hon. Gentleman.</p>
+
+<p><i>Business done.</i>&mdash;<span class="smcap">Old Morality's</span> Motion carried.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/144b.png">
+<img src="images/144b.png" width="100%" alt="Our Whip" /></a>
+<h4>Our Whip (at present without a Handle to his Name).</h4>
+</div>
+
+<p><i>Wednesday.</i>&mdash;Attempt by some noisy outsiders who know nothing of House
+to make things unpleasant for <span class="smcap">Akers-Douglas</span>, because House Counted Out
+last Friday. Said he has been wigged; assume he will retire. All arrant
+nonsense. Everybody in House, Conservative, Liberal, Dissentient, Irish,
+whatever we be, all know <span class="smcap">Akers-Douglas</span> as one of best Whips of present
+generation. Assiduous, persuasive, courteous, yet firm; always at his
+post, never fussy, never cross, apparently never tired, he is a model of
+a Whip. His Party could better spare an occasional Secretary of State.</p>
+
+<p>For purely business arrangements Ministers have a unique combination of
+three men. <span class="smcap">Old Morality</span>, as Leader of House; <span class="smcap">Akers-Douglas,</span> as Whip; and
+<span class="smcap">Jackson</span>, as Financial Secretary, are strong enough to balance effects of
+any reasonable amount of blundering in high politics. They take care of
+the pence of efficiency and popularity, and leave the <span class="smcap">Markiss</span> an
+occasional pound to spend.</p>
+
+<p><i>Business Done.</i>&mdash;New Irish Land Bill brought in, and cast out.</p>
+
+<p><i>Thursday.</i>&mdash;<span class="smcap">Teynham</span> on in the Lords, but what he's on about the Lords
+only know, and not all of them. Something to do with Camperdown;
+<span class="smcap">Granville</span> not entirely out of it; and the <span class="smcap">Markiss</span> at least compromised.
+<span class="smcap">Teynham</span>, standing at Cross Benches, holding on to the rail of Bench
+before him, as if he were in pulpit, swings about his body, turns to
+right and left, sometimes presenting his back to <span class="smcap">Lord Chancellor</span>, whilst
+he contemplates emptiness of Strangers' Galleries. In plaintive voice,
+full of tears, he babbles o' Camperdown, green fields, <i>nemine
+contradicente</i>, and Standing Order No. XXI.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/144c.png">
+<img src="images/144c.png" width="100%" alt="A Mental Struggle" /></a>
+<h4>A Mental Struggle.</h4>
+</div>
+
+<p>Pretty to watch <span class="smcap">Hobhouse</span> whilst <span class="smcap">Teynham</span> on his legs. Sits intently
+listening; first crossed one knee, then the other; puts his two
+forefingers together as if connecting the matter of <span class="smcap">Teynham's</span> speech;
+gradually, as muddle grows thicker, two locks of hair on top of his head
+slowly rise and remained standing, as it were, till <span class="smcap">Teynham</span> reseated
+himself. Most remarkable testimony to mental struggle. Even <span class="smcap">Hobhouse</span>,
+having thus given his mind to it, couldn't make out what <span class="smcap">Teynham</span> was at.
+As for <span class="smcap">Denman</span> he, after first ten minutes of speech, flouted out of
+House.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 20%">
+<a href="images/144d.png">
+<img src="images/144d.png" width="100%" alt="Sir William Burning" /></a>
+<p>Sir William Burning.</p>
+<p>(<i>See the Chancellor of the Exchequer's Speech, March 11th.</i>)</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Toby</span>," said he, passing me in the Lobby; "if this is what the House of
+Lords is coming to, I shall vote with <span class="smcap">Rosebery</span> for its immediate reform.
+Don't like to say anything disrespectful of a Peer; but I must observe
+that <span class="smcap">Teynham</span> is a little lacking in coherency. His observations fail in
+point; in short, if he were not a Peer I should say his mind was
+wandering. Whatever we do, <span class="smcap">Toby</span>, let us be intelligent <i>and</i>
+intelligible. I trust I am not prejudiced, but I really can't stand
+<span class="smcap">Teynham</span>."</p>
+
+<p><i>Business done.</i>&mdash;In Commons, Government defeated, in resisting <span class="smcap">Hamley's</span>
+proposal to stump up for Volunteers.</p>
+
+<p><i>Friday Night.</i>&mdash;<span class="smcap">Trevelyan</span> brought forward Motion proposing that
+Parliament shall rise at beginning of July, making up necessary time in
+winter months. Supported proposition in speech graceful and strong, a
+model of rare combination of literary art, with Parliamentary aptitude.
+After brisk debate, resolution negatived by 173 votes against 169. "A
+majority of four won't long stand in our way," said <span class="smcap">Charles Forster</span>, who
+having, some Sessions ago, fortuitously found his hat, never now deserts
+it.</p>
+
+<p><i>Business done.</i>&mdash;Government vainly tried to get into Committee of
+Supply.</p><br />
+
+<hr /><br />
+
+<center><span class="smcap">The Difference.</span>&mdash;Sir <span class="smcap">George Trevelyan</span> wants the House of Commons to
+"rise at the beginning of July." <i>Mr. Punch</i> wishes it to rise at all
+times&mdash;above rowdyism.</center><br />
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 5%">
+<a href="images/144e.gif">
+<img src="images/144e.gif" width="100%" alt="Pointing finger" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<blockquote><p>NOTICE.&mdash;Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS.,
+Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no
+case be returned, not even when accompanied by Stamped and Addressed
+Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no
+exception.</p></blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30414 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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