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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 www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 105 September 23, 1893 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Sir Francis Burnand + +Release Date: January 25, 2012 [EBook #38671] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Lesley Halamek and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page133" id="page133"></a>[pg 133]</span> + +<h1>Punch, or the London Charivari</h1> + +<h2>Volume 105, September 23rd 1893</h2> + +<h4><i>edited by Sir Francis Burnand</i></h4> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2 class="sans">"PAINLESS DENTISTRY."</h2> + +<h4>(<i>A Story for the Long Vacation.</i>)</h4> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"><a href="images/133-500.png"><img src="images/133-250.png" width="250" height="304" alt="The long vacation" /></a></div> + +<p>Although professional engagements (not wholly unconnected +with the holding of high judicial office in the Tropics) have recently +prevented me from contributing to the paper which specially represents +Bench and Bar, I have never lost sight of the fact that when I +have a duty to perform, the +pages of <i>Punch</i> are open to +me. Under these circumstances +I find myself once +again writing to the familiar +address, and signing myself, +as of yore, with the old name, +and the ancient head-quarters. +I must confess that although +I date this communication +from Pump-Handle Court, I +am, as a matter of fact, staying +at Callerherring, a health +resort greatly patronised by +all patients of that eminent +doctor Sir <span class="sc">Peter Twitwillow</span>.</p> + +<p>It is unnecessary to describe +a place so well known to all +lovers of the picturesque. I +may hint that the far-famed +view of twelve Scotch, Irish, +and Welsh counties, and the Channel and the Atlantic Ocean, can +still be enjoyed by those who ascend Mount MacHaggis, and that the +<i>table-d'hôte</i> at the Royal Hibernian Hotel yet costs, with its seven +courses, five-and-sixpence. And now to perform my duty.</p> + +<p>My son, <span class="sc">George Lewis Bolton Rollit</span> (he is christened after some +professional friends of mine, in the hope that at some distant date he +may be assisted by them in the characters of good fairy godfathers +in the profession to which it is hoped he may ornamentally belong), +is extremely partial to sweetstuff. He is a habitual glutton of a +sticky comestible known, I believe, in the confectionery trade as +"Chicago Honey Shells." This toothsome (I have his word for the +appropriateness of the epithet) edible he devours in large quantities, +spending at times as much as five shillings to secure an ample store +of an article of commerce generally bought in quantities estimated +at the usually convenient rate of "two ounces for three halfpence."</p> + +<p>It was after a long gastronomic debauch connected with Chicago +Honey Shells that I noticed that <span class="sc">George Lewis Bolton Rollit</span> was +suffering from a swollen face. My son, although evidently in great +pain, declared that there was nothing the matter with him. +However, as for three successive days he took only two helpings of +meat and refused his pudding, I, in consultation with his mother, +came to the conclusion that it was necessary to seek the advice of a +local medical man. <span class="sc">George Lewis Bolton Rollit</span> raised objections +to this course, but they were overruled.</p> + +<p>"No, Sir, the doctor is not in. He's out for the day."</p> + +<p>Such was the answer to my question put twice at the doors of two +medical-looking houses with brass plates to match. On the second +occasion I expressed so much annoyance that the servant quite +sympathised with me.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Master <span class="sc">Sammy</span> might do, Sir?" suggested the kind-hearted +janitor.</p> + +<p>On finding that "Master <span class="sc">Sammy</span>" was a nephew of the owner of +the house and a qualified medical man, I consented, and "Master +<span class="sc">Sammy</span>" was sent for. There was some little delay in his appearance, +as, although the morning was fairly well advanced, he was not up. +However, after making a possibly hasty toilette, he soon appeared. +No doubt he was much older, but he looked about eighteen. He +was very pleasant, and listened to my history of the case. He +seemed, so it appeared to me, to recognise the Chicago Honey Shells +as old acquaintances. It may have been my fancy, but I think he +smacked his lips when I suggested that <span class="sc">George Lewis Bolton +Rollit</span> had probably eaten five shillings' worth at a sitting.</p> + +<p>"You see," I said, "he has had a bad face ever since; and as our +dentist in town told us about a fortnight ago that sooner or later +he must have a tooth out, I think this must be the one to which he +referred. Won't you see?"</p> + +<p>When, after some persuasion, <span class="sc">George Lewis Bolton Rollit</span> had +been induced to open his mouth, "Master <span class="sc">Sammy</span>" did see.</p> + +<p>"Yes," observed the budding doctor, after he had looked into my +lad's mouth as if it were a sort of curiosity from India that he was +regarding for the first time, "yes, I think it ought to come out."</p> + +<p>And armed with this opinion I asked my medical friend if he +knew any one in Callerherring capable of performing the operation.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes," he replied, after some consideration; "there's a +nice little dentist round the corner. He's called Mr. <span class="sc">Leo Armstrong</span>."</p> + +<p>Then "Master <span class="sc">Sammy</span>" smiled, and I felt sure that he and "the +nice little dentist" must have quite recently been playing marbles +together. Next came the question of the fee. "Master <span class="sc">Sammy</span>" +was disinclined to accept anything, evidently taking a low estimate +of the value of his professional services. However, he ultimately +said "Three-and-sixpence," and got the money. I would willingly +have increased it to a crown had I not feared that the moment my +back was turned "Master <span class="sc">Sammy</span>" would have followed the example +of <span class="sc">George Lewis Bolton Rollit</span>, and himself indulged in five +shillings' worth of Chicago Honey Shells.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Leo Armstrong</span> lived in a rather fine-looking house, ornamented +with an aged brass plate, suggesting that he had been established +for very many years. A buttons opened the door, and, on +my inquiring as to whether Mr. <span class="sc">Leo Armstrong</span> was at home, +promptly answered "Yes."</p> + +<p>From the venerable appearance of the brass plate I had expected +to see a rather elderly dentist, with possibly white hair and certainly +spectacles; so I was rather taken aback when a dapper young fellow, +who seemed about the age of "Master <span class="sc">Sammy</span>," entered the +waiting-room. The juvenile new-comer made himself master of the +situation. He seized upon the jaw of poor trembling <span class="sc">George +Lewis Bolton Rollit</span>, and declared that "it must come out."</p> + +<p>"He'd better have gas," he observed. "But as I am full of +engagements this morning, you really must let me fix a time."</p> + +<p>Then he took out a pocket-book which I could not help noticing +contained such items as "Soda-water—3<i>s.</i>," "Washing—5<i>s.</i>," and +"Church collection—6<i>d.</i>," and placed our name and time amidst the +other entries.</p> + +<p>We kept our appointment. The buttons was in a state of excitement. +Mr. <span class="sc">Leo Armstrong</span> received us, and pointed to the gas +apparatus with an air of triumph, as if he had had some difficulty in +getting it entrusted to him in consequence of his youth. Then "Master +<span class="sc">Sammy</span>" made his appearance. He was going to administer the +gas. It was a pleasant family party, and I felt quite parental. Had +it not been for poor <span class="sc">George Lewis Bolton Rollit's</span> swollen face, +I should have said to Mr. <span class="sc">Leo Armstrong</span>, "Master <span class="sc">Sammy</span>," my +boy, and the buttons, "Here, lads, let us make a day of it. I will +take you all to Madame <span class="sc">Tussaud's</span> and the Zoological Gardens."</p> + +<p>"You have had the gas, haven't you?" said "Master <span class="sc">Sammy</span>," +who had been fumbling with the apparatus. "How do you put it +on?"</p> + +<p>Poor <span class="sc">George Lewis Bolton Rollit</span>, under protest, described +the <i>modus operandi</i>. Then the mouth was opened, and "Master +<span class="sc">Sammy</span>" applied the gas. I am sorry to say he performed the +operation rather clumsily, and my poor lad never "went off." +<span class="sc">George Lewis Bolton Rollit</span> subsequently described every detail +of the performance, and said that he had suffered excruciating +pain. Then Mr. <span class="sc">Leo Armstrong</span> went to work, and, after several +struggles, got out a bit of tooth, and then another. Then <span class="sc">George +Lewis Bolton Rollit</span> came to himself, and the usual comforts +were supplied to him.</p> + +<p>"I think there's a bit of the tooth still in the gum," said Mr. +<span class="sc">Leo Armstrong</span>; and then, after a pause, with the air of Jack +Horner pulling out a plum, he produced an immense pair of forceps +from the instrument drawer. "There." he added, triumphantly, as +he exhibited another piece of ivory, "I told you so!"</p> + +<p><span class="sc">George Lewis Bolton Rollit</span> had now sufficiently recovered to +complain bitterly of the pain he had suffered.</p> + +<p>"Impossible," I observed; "remember this is <i>painless</i> dentistry."</p> + +<p>I had not intended the remark as a witticism, but rather as a solace +to the sufferer. Still, "Master <span class="sc">Sammy</span>" and Mr. <span class="sc">Leo Armstrong</span> +accepted it as first-class waggery, and indulged in roars of +laughter. Then the former took his departure. I found that I was +indebted to the latter to the extent of 15<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> I don't know how my +dentist had arrived at the sum, but he said it with such determination +that I could only offer a sovereign and receive the change.</p> + +<p>"I want my tooth," said <span class="sc">George Lewis Bolton Rollit</span>, who +is of an affectionate nature. "I want to give it to Mother."</p> + +<p>Then Mr. <span class="sc">Leo Armstrong</span> interposed. He desired to keep the +tooth (in several pieces) himself. I understood him to say that he +regarded it as a memorial of an initial victory—his first extraction.</p> + +<p>"Dear me!" I exclaimed. "Why I thought you had been +established at least twenty years, Mr. <span class="sc">Leo Armstrong</span>."</p> + +<p>"Well, to tell the truth," was the reply, "I am not Mr. <span class="sc">Leo +Armstrong</span>. He's away for the day, and I am taking his place!"</p> + +<p>Then <span class="sc">George Lewis Bolton Rollit</span> and I bowed ourselves out. As +I left the premises I fancied I heard the click of marbles. No doubt +"Master <span class="sc">Sammy</span>" and "Mr. <span class="sc">Leo Armstrong</span>" had resumed the +game our visit had interrupted. I was relieved to find myself safe +from a fall caused perchance by one of their runaway hoops.</p> + +<p>And now to perform my duty. I need scarcely say that it is to +add my recommendation to that of Sir <span class="sc">Peter Twitwillow</span> anent +Callerherring. You should not fail to visit the place, especially if +you have a son suffering from "a raging tooth," that "must come +out."</p> + +<p class="author">(<i>Signed</i>) <span class="sc">A. Briefless, Junior</span>.</p> + +<p class="ind1"><i>Pump-Handle Court, Temple, September, 1893.</i></p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page134" id="page134"></a>[pg 134]</span> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2 class="sans">THE THREE JOVIAL HUNTSMEN.</h2> + +<h4>(<i>Latest Parliamentary Version.</i>)</h4> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/134-1500.png"><img src="images/134-400.png" width="400" height="490" alt="Three jovial huntsmen" /></a></div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>It's of three jovial huntsmen, an' a hunting they did go;</p> +<p>An' they hunted, an' they hollo'd, an' they blew their horns also.</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> +<p>An' one said, "Mind yo'r 'ayes,' and keep yo'r 'noes' well down th' wind,</p> +<p>An' then, by scent or seet, we'll leet on summat to our mind."</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>They hunted, an' they hollo'd, an' the first thing they did find</p> +<p>Was a tatter't boggart, in a field, an' that they left behind.</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> +<p>One said it was a scarecrow, an' another he said "Nay;</p> +<p>It's just the British Farmer, an' he seems in a bad way."</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page135" id="page135"></a>[pg 135]</span> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>They hunted, an' they hollo'd, an' the next thing they did find</p> +<p>Was a gruntin', grindin' grindlestone, an' that they left behind.</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> +<p>One said it was a grindlestone, another he said "Nay;</p> +<p>It's just th' owd Labour Question, which is always in the way."</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>They hunted, an' they hollo'd, an' the next thing they did find</p> +<p>Was a bull-calf in a pinfold, an' that too they left behind.</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> +<p>One said it was a bull-calf, an' another he said "Nay;</p> +<p>It is just a Rural Voter who has lately learned to bray."</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>They hunted, an' they hollo'd, an' the next thing they did find</p> +<p>Was a two-three children leaving school, an' these they left behind.</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> +<p>One said that they were children, but another he said "Nay;</p> +<p>They're Denominational-divvels, who want freedom <i>plus</i> State-pay."</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>They hunted, an' they hollo'd, and the next thing they did find</p> +<p>Was two street-spouters and a crowd, an' these they left behind.</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> +<p>One said they were street-spouters, but another he said, "Nay;</p> +<p>They're just teetotal lunatics who on Veto want their say."</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>They hunted an' they <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'hallo'd'"> hollo'd</ins>, an' the next thing they did find</p> +<p>Was a dead sheep hanging by it's heels, an' that they left behind.</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> +<p>One said it was Welsh Mutton, but another he said, "Nay;</p> +<p>It's the ghost of a Suspensory Bill; we'd better get away!"</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>They hunted, an' they hollo'd, an' the next thing they did find</p> +<p>Was a fat pig boltin' thro' a hedge, an' <i>that</i> they left behind.</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> +<p>One said it was an Irish hog, but another he said "Nay;</p> +<p>It's our plump, pet Home-Rule porker, which the Lords have driven away!"</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>So they hunted, an' they hollo'd, till the setting of the sun;</p> +<p>An' they'd nought to bring away at last, when th' huntin'-day was done.</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> +<p>Then one unto the other said, "This huntin' doesn't pay;</p> +<p>But we've powler 't up an' down a bit, an' had a rattlin' day."</p> +<p class="i16">Look ye there!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/135-1500.png"><img src="images/135-600.png" width="600" height="399" alt="BRILLIANT SUGGESTION." /></a> +<h2 class="sans">BRILLIANT SUGGESTION.</h2> + +<h3>(<i>Overheard at the Sea-side.</i>)</h3> + +<p><i>She.</i> "<span class="sc">So much nicer now that all the Visitors have gone. Don't you think so?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> "<span class="sc">Yes, by Jove! So jolly nice and quiet! Often wonder that <i>Everybody</i> doesn't come now, when there's +Nobody here, don't you know!</span>"</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>QUEER QUERIES.</h3> + +<p class="indrl"><span class="sc">Parson and Premier.</span>—I see that a person who is called "the +Episcopal Vicar of Blairgowrie" said that he would decline to shake +hands with the <span class="sc">Prime Minister</span>, in the utterly improbable event of +the <span class="sc">Prime Minister</span> wishing to shake hands with <i>him</i>. May I +inquire how there can be a "Vicar of Blairgowrie" at all? Is not +the Established Church in Scotland the Presbyterian one? I know +that they have "Lord Rectors" up north, and so perhaps there are +Rectors as well, but I never heard of a Lord Vicar. "The Lord +Vicar of Blairgowrie" would sound rather well. But what would +his Lord Bishop say? Can any genuine Scotchman kindly assist me +in unravelling this puzzle?—<span class="sc">Southron Body.</span></p> + +<p class="indrl"><span class="sc">Our Auxiliaries.</span>—When are we likely to have a Minister +of War who will do <i>real justice</i> to Officers of the Volunteers? +I may say that I am thinking of becoming an Officer myself, +and I fancy that the following inducements would be likely +to bring in a fresh supply of these deserving men:—(1) Exemption +from Taxes. (2) Ditto from Rates, and Serving on +Juries. (3) More gold braid everywhere. (4) A Volunteer Captain +to rank equal to a Lieutenant-General, and a Major of Volunteers +equal to the Commander-in-Chief. (5) Retiring pension, and not less +than six medals or decorations, after half a year's service. Do you +think that there would be much good in my writing to Mr. +<span class="sc">Campbell-Bannerman</span> and suggesting this?—<span class="sc">Modest Merit.</span></p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page136" id="page136"></a>[pg 136]</span> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2 class="sans">UNDER THE ROSE.</h2> + +<h4>(<i>A Story in Scenes.</i>)</h4> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Scene IV.</span>—<i>An Up-platform at Clapham Junction.</i><br /> +<span class="sc">Time</span>—<i>Monday afternoon.</i></p> + +<p><i>Curphew</i> (<i>to himself, as he paces up and down with a pre-occupied +air</i>). I ought to have been up at the Hilarity rehearsing hours ago. +Considering all that depends on that play of mine—but there'll +be time enough to pull <i>Flattery</i> together before Saturday. And +this is the only chance I have of seeing <span class="sc">Althea</span> for days. Her +mother hinted last night that she was obliged to let her travel up to +Waterloo alone, and if I <i>did</i> happen to be going up about this time—and +of course I <i>do</i> happen to be. I <i>must</i> tell <span class="sc">Althea</span>; I can't go on +playing a part any longer. I felt such a humbug last night over +that confounded Eldorado business. But if I'd revealed myself +then as "Walter Wildfire, Comedian and Vocalist," those puritanical +parents of hers would probably have both had a fit on the floor, and +have kicked me out of the house as soon as they were sufficiently recovered! +That's the worst of becoming intimate with a serious +Evangelical family in the character +of a hard-working journalist. I +ought to have undeceived them, I +suppose, but it was such a blessing +to sink the shop—and besides, I'd +seen <span class="sc">Althea</span>. It would have been +folly to speak until—but she must +know now, I'll have no more false +pretences. After all, there's no +disgrace in being a music-hall +singer. I've no reason to be +ashamed of the means by which +I've got my reputation. Ah! but +she won't understand that—the +name will be enough for her! And +I can't blame her if she fails to +see the glory of bringing whisky +and water nightly to the eyes of +an enraptured audience by singing +serio-comic sentiment under +limelight through clouds of tobacco-smoke. +Heaven knows <i>I'm</i> sick +enough of it, and if <i>Flattery</i> only +makes a hit, I'd cut the profession +at once. If I could only hear her +say she—there she is—at last—and +alone, thank goodness! I wish I +didn't feel so nervous—I'm not +likely to get a better opportunity. +(<i>Aloud, as he meets</i> <span class="sc">Althea</span>.) Mrs. +<span class="sc">Toovey</span> said I might—can I get +your ticket, or see after your luggage, +or anything?</p> + +<p><i>Althea.</i> Oh, thank you, Mr. <span class="sc">Curphew</span>, +but <span class="sc">Phœbe</span> is doing all that.</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> (<i>to himself, his face falling</i>). +That's the maid; then she's +<i>not</i> alone! I must get this over +now, or not at all. (<i>Aloud.</i>) Miss +<span class="sc">Toovey</span>, I—I've something I particularly +want to say to you; shall +we walk up to the other end of the +platform?</p> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> (<i>to herself</i>). It looks more +serious than ever! Is he going to +give me good advice? It's kind of him to care, but still——(<i>Aloud.</i>) +Oh, but we shan't have time. See, there's our train coming up now. +Couldn't you say it in the railway carriage?</p> + +<p class="ind2">[<i>The train runs in.</i></p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> (<i>to himself</i>). For <span class="sc">Phœbe's</span> edification! No, I don't +quite——(<i>Aloud, desperately.</i>) It—it's something that concerns—something +I can't very well say before anyone else—there'll be +another train directly—would you mind waiting for it?</p> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> (<i>to herself</i>). It's very mysterious. I <i>should</i> like to know +what it can be! (<i>Aloud.</i>) I—I hardly know. I think we ought, +perhaps, to—but this doesn't look a very nice train, does it?</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> (<i>with conviction</i>). It's a <i>beastly</i> train! One of the very +worst they run, and full of the most objectionable people. It—it's +quite noted for it.</p> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="sc">Phœbe</span>, <i>who hurries up with her hand-bag</i>). No, never +mind; I'm not going by this train, <span class="sc">Phœbe</span>; we'll wait for a more +comfortable one.</p> + +<p><i>Phœbe.</i> Very good, Miss. (<i>To herself, as she retires.</i>) Well, if +that isn't downright barefaced—I don't know what it is! I hope +they'll find a train to suit 'em before long, and not stay here +picking and choosing all day, or I shan't get back in time to lay the +cloth for dinner. But it's the way with all these quiet ones!</p> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> Did you want to speak to me about last night, Mr. <span class="sc">Curphew</span>? +Has my cousin <span class="sc">Charles</span> been getting into any mischief? I only +came in afterwards; but you were looking so shocked about something. +Was it because he had been to a theatre, and do <i>you</i> think +that very wicked of him?</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> (<i>to himself</i>). I ought to manage to lead up to it now. +(<i>Aloud.</i>) It was not a theatre exactly—it was—well, it was a +music-hall.</p> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> Oh! but is there any difference?</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> Not much—between a music-hall and some theatres. At +theatres, you see, they perform a regular play, with a connected plot—at +least, some of the pieces have a connected plot. At a music-hall +the entertainment is—er—varied. Songs, conjuring-tricks, +ventriloquism, and—and that kind of thing.</p> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> Why, that's just like the Penny Readings at our +Athenæum!</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> Well, I should hardly have—but I'm not in a position to +say. (<i>To himself.</i>) I'm further off than ever!</p> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> It couldn't be <i>that</i>, then; for Papa has presided at Penny +Readings himself. But <span class="sc">Charles</span> must have told him <i>something</i> that +upset him, for he came down to +breakfast looking perfectly haggard +this morning. <span class="sc">Charles</span> had a long +talk in the library with him last +night after you left, and then Papa +went to bed.</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> (<i>to himself</i>). I felt sure +that fellow spotted me. So he's +let the cat out to old <span class="sc">Toovey</span>! If +I don't tell her now. (<i>Aloud.</i>) Did +Mr. <span class="sc">Toovey</span> seem—er—annoyed?</p> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> He looked worried, and I +believe he wanted to consult <i>you</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> (<i>to himself</i>). The deuce +he did! (<i>Aloud.</i>) He mentioned +me?</p> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> He talked of going round +to see you, but Mamma insisted on +his staying quietly indoors.</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> (<i>to himself</i>). Sensible +woman, Mrs. <span class="sc">Toovey</span>! But I've +no time to lose. (<i>Aloud.</i>) I think +I can explain why he wished to +see me. He has discovered my—my +secret.</p> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> Have you a secret, Mr. +<span class="sc">Curphew</span>? (<i>To herself.</i>) He can't +mean <i>that</i>, and yet—oh, what <i>am</i> +I to say to him?</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> I have. I always intended +to tell him—but—but I +wanted you to know it first. And +it was rather difficult to tell. I—I +risk losing everything by speaking.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/136-800.png"><img src="images/136-350.png" width="350" height="482" alt="'He does mean that!'" /></a> +<p class="center">"He <i>does</i> mean that!"</p></div> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> (<i>to herself</i>). He <i>does</i> mean +that! But I won't be proposed to +like this on a railway platform; I +don't believe it's proper; and I +haven't even made up my mind! +(<i>Aloud.</i>) If it was difficult before, +it will be harder than ever now—just +when another train is coming +in, Mr. <span class="sc">Curphew</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> (<i>angrily, as the train +passes</i>). Another—already! The +way they crowd the traffic on this line is simply dis——But it's +an express. It isn't going to stop, I assure you it isn't!</p> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> It <i>has</i> stopped. And we had better get in.</p> + +<p><i>Phœbe.</i> I don't know if you fancy the look of this train, Miss, +but there's an empty first-class in front.</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> This train stops everywhere. We shall get in just as soon +by the next—sooner in fact.</p> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> If you think so, Mr. <span class="sc">Curphew</span>, wait for it, but we really +must go. Come, <span class="sc">Phœbe</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Phœbe.</i> I only took a second for myself, Miss, not knowing you'd +require——</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> (<i>to himself</i>). There's a chance still, if I can get a +carriage to ourselves. (<i>Aloud.</i>) No, Miss <span class="sc">Toovey</span>, you must let me +come with you. Your mother put you under my care, you know. +(<i>To</i> <span class="sc">Phœbe</span>.) Here, give me Miss <span class="sc">Toovey's</span> bag. Now, Miss +<span class="sc">Toovey</span>, this way—we must look sharp. (<i>He opens the door of an +empty compartment, puts</i> <span class="sc">Althea</span> <i>in, hands her the bag, and is +about to follow when he is seized by the arm, and turns to find +himself in the grasp of</i> Mr. <span class="sc">Toovey</span>.) How do you do, Mr. <span class="sc">Toovey</span>? +We—we are just off, you see.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Toovey</i> (<i>breathlessly</i>). I—I consider I am very fortunate in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page137" id="page137"></a>[pg 137]</span> +catching you, Mr. <span class="sc">Curphew</span>. I accidentally learnt from my wife +that you were going up about this time—so I hurried down, on the +bare chance of——</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> (<i>impatiently</i>). Yes, yes, but I'm afraid I can't wait now, +Sir. I—Mrs. <span class="sc">Toovey</span> asked me to take care of your daughter——</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Toov.</i> <span class="sc">Althea</span> will be perfectly safe. And I must have a +few words with you at once on a matter which is pressing, Sir, very +pressing indeed. <span class="sc">Althea</span> will excuse you.</p> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> (<i>from the window</i>). Of course. You mustn't think of +coming, Mr. <span class="sc">Curphew</span>. <span class="sc">Phœbe</span> will look after me.</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> But—but I have an important engagement in Town +myself!</p> + +<p><i>Alth.</i> (<i>unkindly</i>). You will get up quite as soon by the next +train, Mr. <span class="sc">Curphew</span>, or even sooner—you said so yourself, you +know! (<i>In an under-tone.</i>) Stay. I'd <i>rather</i> you did—you can +tell me your—your secret when I come back.</p> + +<p><i>The Guard.</i> Vauxhall and Waterloo only, this train. Stand +back there, please!</p> + +<p class="ind2">[<i>He slams the door; the train moves on, leaving</i> <span class="sc">Curphew</span> <i>on +the platform with</i> Mr. <span class="sc">Toovey</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> (<i>to himself, bitterly</i>). What luck I have! She's gone +now—and I haven't told her, after all. And I'm left behind, to +have it out with this old pump! (<i>Aloud.</i>) Well, Sir, you've something +to say to me?</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Toov.</i> (<i>nervously</i>). I have—yes, certainly—only it—it's of +rather a private nature, and—and perhaps we should be freer from +interruption in the waiting-room here.</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> (<i>to himself</i>). I wish I'd thought of that myself—earlier. +Well, he doesn't seem very formidable; it strikes me I shan't find it +difficult to manage him. (<i>Aloud.</i>) The waiting-room, by all +means.</p> + +<p class="ind2">[<i>He follows</i> Mr. <span class="sc">Toovey</span> <i>into the General Waiting-room, and +awaits developments</i>.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">End of Scene IV.</span></p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3 class="sans">"DUE SOUTH!"</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">Note.</span>—When I am travelling due South, as I am now, <i>per</i> +L. & S. W. R., to join my party, all I require may be summed up +in the accompanying "<i>Mem.</i>," which is to this effect:—</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"><a href="images/137-300.png"><img src="images/137-150.png" width="150" height="195" alt="... a good cigar or an old pipe" /></a></div> + +<p><i>Mem.</i>—Give me a Pullman car, my favourite beverage, a good +cigar, or an old pipe charged with well-conditioned bird's-eye, an +amiable companion possessed of sufficient +ready money in small change, give me +likewise a pack of playing cards, let the gods +grant me more than average luck at écarté +or spoof, and never can I regret the two +hours and forty minutes occupied by the +journey from "W't'r'o" to "P'm'th."</p> + +<p>To start with, the line to Pinemouth is one +of those "lines" that have "fallen," in the +pleasantest of "pleasant places." On a +broiling summer's day you pass through a +wide expanse of landscape, refreshingly +painted in Nature's brightest water colours—plenty +of colour, plenty of water. All over the +sandy plains of Aldershot, boxes of toy soldiers, with white toy tents +and the smartest little flags, have been emptied out; and everywhere +about the tiny figures may be seen marching, lounging, digging, +riding, firing, surveying, performing evolutions to the sound of the +warlike trumpet, and generally employed in a sort of undressed +rehearsal of such martial business as is incidental to a Great Campaign +Drama. Then, lest the spirits of the travelling tourist should rise so +high that he might run the chance of "getting a bit above hisself," +as horse-dealers graphically express it, he is whirled away from the +war-like scene, and is taken through the peaceful grounds of +Wokingham. Here to the unwonted military ardour so recently +aroused in the bosom of the travelling civilian will be administered +a succession of dampers in the shape of attractively-placed and +most legibly printed reminders to the effect that "eligible plots" +for burial are "still to be let," and that the terms for intending +residents in the thriving country town of Necropolis can be obtained +on application to Messrs. Somebody and Sons at Suchandsucher Place, +London; the tone of these notices suggesting, in a generally +festive spirit, that the good old maxim "first come first served" +will be strictly observed in all matters of Necropolitan business.</p> + +<p>Then we come to fair Southampton Water, with its marine kind of +flymen waiting to take you to the boats, and the boats waiting to +take you from the flymen to the yachts. On we speed through +the New Forest, where those historically inclined remember +<span class="sc">William Rufus</span>, and others, with a modern political bias, think of +<span class="sc">William Harcourt</span>; while the grateful novel-devourer remembers +that away in the forest resides the authoress of <i>Lady Audley's +Secret</i>, and many other plots. Here, within ten minutes of our +appointed time, is Terminus Number One, East Pinemouth, and, +finally, West Pinemouth, which, speaking for myself individually +and collectively, I prefer to East Pinemouth; at all events, at this +particular time of year. Moreover, it appears that a rapidly increasing +number are of my opinion, seeing how house-building, and +very good house-building, too, is extending westward, and, alas and +alack-a-day, threatening immediate destruction to heather, pine, +fir, and forest generally. I sing:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"How happy could I be with heather</p> +<p class="i2">If builder were only away!"</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>No sooner is a house (most of them excellently-planned houses) +set up, with garden and lovely view of sea, than down in front of +him squats another squatter, up goes another house, the situation is +robbed of the charm of privacy, and unless the owner of the first +house sits on his own roof or has a special tower built, which erection +would probably involve him in difficulties with his neighbours, +his view of the sea is reduced to a mere peep, and in course of time +will, it is probable, be altogether blocked out. However, as Boys +will be Boys, so Builders will be Builders.</p> + +<p>One of the chief advantages offered by Pinemouth as a place +where a summer holiday may be happily spent, is the facility +afforded for getting away from it, in every possible direction; by +sea, river, rail, and road. <i>À propos</i> of "road," the fly-drivers, +shopkeepers, and livery-stable keepers of P'm'th, are, for the most +part, like the fly-drivers, livery-stablers, and shopkeepers at any +place which boasts a recognised season. The eccentric visitor, +who chooses to come out of the regulation time, must take his +chance, and be content with out-of-season manners to suit his +out-of-season custom; still, in the words of the immortal bard, +"They're all right when you know 'em, <i>but</i> you've got to know +'em fust!"</p> + +<p>As to the hiring of flys and midgets, there is a board of rules +and regulations stuck up in the railway station and elsewhere, the +interpretation whereof may possibly be mastered by those able and +willing to devote a few days to the study of its dark sayings.</p> + +<p>"What's the meaning of this rule?" I inadvertently ask a +ruddy-faced policeman, on whose broad shoulders time unoccupied +seems to be weighing somewhat heavily, at the same time pointing +to one of the regulations on the board in question.</p> + +<p>"Well, Sir," replies the civil constable, in a carefully measured +tone, "it is this way"—and then he commences.</p> + +<p class="center"> +* + * + * + * + * + *</p> + +<p>I breathe again; it is half an hour since I addressed that ruddy-faced +official, from whom, thank goodness, I have at last contrived +to escape. He has kept me there, giving me, as it were, a lecture +on the black board, telling me what this rule might mean if it +were read one way, and what that rule might mean if it were +read another way, and what both rules might mean if they were +each of them read in totally different ways; and how one was +labelled "<i>a</i>" (which I saw for myself), and how another was distinguished +by being lettered "<i>b</i>"; and how he (my constabulary +instructor) "wasn't quite sure himself whether his reading of 'em +was quite right;" then going over all the paragraphs again in +detail, indicating each syllable with his finger, as though he were +teaching an infant spelling-class, and finally coming to the conclusion +whereat <i>Bottom</i> the Weaver arrived when he surmised that it +was all "past the wit of man to understand," and advising me that, +on the whole, if any particular case of attempted extortion should +happen to arise, I should do well <i>not</i> to appeal to these rules and +regulations, but to summon the extortionist before the nearest +police magistrate. "But," said he, as if struck by a new light, +"it may be that this rule '<i>a</i>'"——And here he faced round, in +order more closely to inspect the mysterious cryptogram. Taking +advantage of his eye being off me for one second, which it had +never once been during the previous thirty minutes, I stepped as +lightly and rapidly away as my thirteen stone will permit, and +fled. I fancied I heard him calling after me that he had discovered +something or other; but not even if he had shouted "Stop +thief!" should I have paused in my Mazeppa-like career. "Once +aboard the lugger," I exclaim to myself, quoting the melodramatic +pirate, "and I am free!" So saying, I entered the hospitable +gates of my present tenancy, and sank exhausted on the sofa.</p> + +<p class="ind2"><i>Mem.</i>—Never again ask a policeman to explain strange cab-rules +and regulations.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>NOT A QUESTION AT ISSUE.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +["Mr. <span class="sc">Gosse</span> holds a middle station between the older and the younger +schools of criticism. He is neither a distinguished and respectable fossil nor +a wild and whirling catherine-wheel."—<i>Athenæum.</i>] +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Oh, luckiest of Critics! What</p> +<p class="i2">A joy unquestioning to feel</p> +<p>On such authority he's not</p> +<p class="i2">"A wild and whirling catherine-wheel."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And is it such a wild idea</p> +<p class="i2">To think that clever Mr. <span class="sc">Gosse</span>'ll</p> +<p>Rejoice he's reckoned not to be a</p> +<p class="i2">"Respectable, distinguished fossil?"</p> + </div> </div> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page138" id="page138"></a>[pg 138]</span> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/138-1500.png"><img src="images/138-600.png" width="600" height="381" alt="THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE EXPRESSED OTHERWISE." /></a> +<h3 class="sans">THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE EXPRESSED OTHERWISE.</h3> + +<p><i>Would-be Considerate Hostess</i> (<i>to Son of the House</i>). +"<span class="sc">How inattentive you are, John! You really must look after Mr. Brown. +<i>He's helping himself to Everything!</i></span>"</p> + +<p>[<i>Discomfiture of Brown, who, if somewhat shy, is conscious of a very healthy appetite.</i></p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>A LESSON FOR "LABOUR."</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +["The overwhelming vote of the Yorkshire, Derbyshire, +and Lancashire miners against accepting +any reduction, or even submitting the wages question +to arbitration, does not encourage any very +sanguine hopes of the Nottingham Conference."—<i>Westminster +Gazette.</i>] +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"<i>My sentence is for open war!</i>" Thus spake</p> +<p>Fierce Moloch, when within the marly lake</p> +<p>"The Stygian Council" in dark conference met!</p> +<p>"The scepter'd king's" advice prevaileth yet,</p> +<p>And Mammon's self, who in his pristine might</p> +<p>Stooped to the avowal that "all things invite</p> +<p>To peaceful counsels," now in stubborn mood</p> +<p>Urges resistance—at the cost of blood!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Yes, Mammon, musing on "the settled state</p> +<p>Of order," at that dim chaotic date,</p> +<p>Speaks, in the mighty-voiced Miltonic way,</p> +<p>"Of Peace," and "how in safety best we may</p> +<p>Compose our present evils, with regard</p> +<p>Of what we are and were." Mammon's award</p> +<p>Is now more martial: Mammon, swoln and proud</p> +<p>With domination o'er the moiling crowd,</p> +<p>Lifts a most arrogant head, and coldly curls</p> +<p>An insolent lip against the clod-soul'd churls</p> +<p>Whose destiny and duty 'tis to slave</p> +<p>'Twixt cradle comfortless and cheerless grave,</p> +<p>To glut his maw insatiate!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i20">Proud is Pelf;</p> +<p>But might not Legend lesson Labour's self?</p> +<p>"Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms!"</p> +<p>Comes not the echo loud of wild alarms</p> +<p>To Labour's Conference? Violence and wreck,</p> +<p>Incendiary hate that sense should check,</p> +<p>Mad mob-intimidation, brutal wrath,—</p> +<p>These are strange warders for the pleasant path</p> +<p>Of human progress! While they crowd and clash</p> +<p>In headlong stubbornness and anger rash,</p> +<p>Whilst factories burn, and workmen fall in blood,</p> +<p>And women mourn, and children moan for food,</p> +<p>Unnumbered multitudes the misery feel</p> +<p>Who share not in its making!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i22">Mars' red steel</p> +<p>Is sheathed to-day at Arbitration's nod;</p> +<p>Hath this no lesson for the milder god?</p> +<p>Vulcan, the smithy-toiler, and his crowd</p> +<p>Of sooty Cyclops, raging fierce and loud,</p> +<p>Impetuous, implacable, whilst Mars,</p> +<p>That savage god of sanguinary wars,</p> +<p>Awaits the award of Arbiters of Peace!</p> +<p>Strange contrast!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i18">"Cease, great hammer-wielder, cease!"</p> +<p>Says the Sword-bearer. "Cease this frenzied fray.</p> +<p>Try Arbitration—'tis the gentler way,</p> +<p>And wiser. I have tried it—shall not you?</p> +<p>Call back your Cyclops, let not <i>them</i> imbrue</p> +<p>Swart hands in Battle's sanguinary hue.</p> +<p>Shall War, now partly driven from the field,</p> +<p>Find refuge in the factory, nor there yield</p> +<p>To the sage suasion of mild Equity,</p> +<p>At whose just Arbitration even I</p> +<p>Suspend or drop the sword?"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i18"> So Mars, and so</p> +<p>All friends of Labour. Raise no stubborn "No!"</p> +<p>At Arbitration's offering, seeing that there</p> +<p>Lies fairest hope of an adjustment fair</p> +<p>'Twixt clashing claims, which if they "fight it out"</p> +<p>In war's wild way may put to utter rout</p> +<p>Humanity's fairest hopes. Oh, time enough</p> +<p>When Arbitration fails to essay the rough</p> +<p>And ruddy road of Mars. Stay, Vulcan stay!</p> +<p>Or blameless hosts long-menaced by your fray</p> +<p>May have a stern effective word to say!</p> +<p>And you, as once of old, though stout and tall,</p> +<p>Kicked out of heaven may have a maiming fall!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>SURGEON-MAJOR PARKE.</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>Doctor to Stanley's Emin Pasha Relief Expedition. +Died September 10, aged 35.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"Rarest doctor in the world!"</p> +<p class="i2">Tribute rare from sturdy <span class="sc">Stanley</span>!</p> +<p class="i2">Skilful, tender, modest, manly!</p> +<p>England's flag may well be furled</p> +<p class="i2">Over the young hero's bier,</p> +<p class="i2">Whose memory is to England dear.</p> +<p>Africa has cost us much.</p> +<p>Fortune send us many such!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="ind2">Mrs. R. says she understands that disaffecting +(disinfecting) fluid was discovered +by the great <span class="sc">Condy</span>, a celebrated Frenchman.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page139" id="page139"></a>[pg 139]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/139-1500.png"><img src="images/139-400.png" width="400" height="505" alt="A LESSON FOR 'LABOUR.'" /></a> +<h2>A LESSON FOR "LABOUR."</h2> +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Mars.</span> "LOOK HERE, BROTHER VULCAN!—WHEN EVEN <i>I</i> HAVE KNOCKED UNDER TO 'ARBITRATION,' +SURELY <i>YOU</i> MIGHT TRY IT?"</p></div> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page140" id="page140"></a>[pg 140]</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page141" id="page141"></a>[pg 141]</span> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>TO DOCTOR FALBE.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>You're not in-<i>fal'be'</i>-le, Doctor dear—</p> +<p class="i2">Excuse the painful pun,</p> +<p>Though you merit treatment e'en more severe</p> +<p class="i2">For all the ill you've done.</p> +<p>You held a nasty cloud of doubt</p> +<p class="i2">Above our sunlit sky,</p> +<p>And now at length we've found you out,</p> +<p class="i2">Our summer is near gone by.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Yes, a summer indeed we've had this year,</p> +<p class="i2">In spite of your doleful croak,</p> +<p>Though perhaps your early prediction drear</p> +<p class="i2">Was simply a practical joke—</p> +<p>A wearisome joke that wouldn't die,</p> +<p class="i2">For every man one met</p> +<p>Would remind one of <span class="sc">Falbe</span> and his prophecy—</p> +<p class="i2">"We're soon to have lots of wet."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>But what of the tradesmen who laid in store</p> +<p class="i2">Of "brollies" and mackintosh</p> +<p>On the strength of your hint as to rain galore</p> +<p class="i2">And unlimited Autumn slosh?</p> +<p>Oh, <span class="sc">Falbe</span>, if <i>they</i> but got hold of you,</p> +<p class="i2">What a tune they <i>would</i> perform!</p> +<p>There's one prediction we'd warrant true—</p> +<p class="i2">You'd find it extremely warm!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/141-1-1000.png"><img src="images/141-1-450.png" width="450" height="500" alt="'WELL, REALLY, MY DEAR!'" /></a> +<h3 class="sans">"WELL, REALLY, MY DEAR!"</h3> + +<p><i>Mrs. R.</i> "<span class="sc">Christopher darling, I never <i>can</i> remember whether 'Soda-water' +is written as One Word or Two joined together by a Syphon?!</span>"</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3 class="sans">THE THREE TARTARS.</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>By One of the "Thirty-six +Tyrants" of the Liberal +Party.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="sc">Hanbury</span>, <span class="sc">Bowles</span>, and <span class="sc">Bartley</span>,</p> +<p>Talk and wrangle tartly;</p> +<p>Sour as unripe cranberry</p> +<p>Are <span class="sc">Bartlet</span>, <span class="sc">Bowles</span>, and <span class="sc">Hanbury</span>;</p> +<p>Three most sorrel souls</p> +<p>Are <span class="sc">Hanbury</span>, <span class="sc">Bartley</span>, <span class="sc">Bowles</span>!</p> +<p>They the blame would fix</p> +<p>On the Liberal Thirty-six.</p> +<p>As "tyrants," what are we</p> +<p>Compared with that "Tartar Three,"</p> +<p>Who—but I'll be mum:—</p> +<p>"I hear the Tartar drum!"</p> +<p>Loudly thumped, and smartly,</p> +<p>By <span class="sc">Hanbury</span>, <span class="sc">Bowles</span>, and <span class="sc">Bartley</span>!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h4>Cherchez l'Homme.</h4> + +<blockquote><p> +["The appearance of a Ladies' +Eight on the Thames in +the Cookham district has attracted +considerable attention.... +Mr. <span class="sc">R. C. Lehmann</span> has +handled the rudder-lines on +more than one occasion, and +General <span class="sc">Hammersley</span> has +also been out as coxswain."—<i>Daily +News.</i>] +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>The Ladies' Eight at Cookham rows right well,</p> +<p class="i2">There's many a crew of men would not get near them;</p> +<p>But is it not a saddening truth to tell?</p> +<p class="i2">The ladies often take a man to steer them!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>GOLDEN MEMORIES.</h3> + +<h4>(<i>By a (not) Dumb Waiter.</i>)</h4> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Summers come and Summers go, Sir,</p> +<p class="i2">As appints the course of Nater:</p> +<p>In the winter I'm a grocer,</p> +<p class="i2">In the Summer I'm a waiter.</p> +<p>I'm a waiter at the sea-side;</p> +<p class="i2">There's the "Grand Hotel" up yonder—</p> +<p>Never hancient Rome or Greece eyed</p> +<p class="i2">Poet of the Summer fonder.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Though I'm quite self-heddycated,</p> +<p class="i2">Yet I love the Summer golden;</p> +<p>Every gent on whom I've waited</p> +<p class="i2">Feels 'isself to me beholden;</p> +<p>As appropriate verse I quote, Sir,</p> +<p class="i2">I can watch 'em growing gladder:</p> +<p>They're aweer 'ow much I dote, Sir,</p> +<p class="i2">On the golden light and shadder.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"<i>Tipped with gold</i>" the clouds and copses,</p> +<p class="i2">"<i>Tipped with gold</i>" yon arf-awake ox,</p> +<p>"<i>Tipped with gold</i>" the sheep and wapses,</p> +<p class="i2">"<i>Tipped with gold</i>" the 'arvest 'aycocks;</p> +<p>"<i>Tipped with gold</i>" the cows as browses,</p> +<p class="i2">Ditto waves and fish and sea-things,</p> +<p>Ditto shops and dwellin'-'ouses,</p> +<p class="i2">Ditto our hotel and tea-things.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"<i>Tipped with gold.</i>" It's langwidge splendid,</p> +<p class="i2">Summing hup the Summer brightly—</p> +<p>Good for Nater, good for men, did</p> +<p class="i2">Gentlemen but read it rightly.</p> +<p>"<i><span class="sc">Tipped</span> with gold</i>" still what I quote is:</p> +<p class="i2">'Umble folk should not be proud, Sir,—</p> +<p>Which I 'opes you've marked our notice—</p> +<p class="i2">"No gratuities allowed," Sir!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3 class="sans">LINES ON (AND OFF) AN ITALIAN MULE.</h3> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"><a href="images/141-2-600.png"><img src="images/141-2-200.png" width="200" height="156" alt="An Italian mule." /></a></div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>O dubious hybrid, what your patronymic</p> +<p class="i2">Or pedigree may be, does not much matter;</p> +<p>But if my own attire you mean to mimic,</p> +<p class="i2">And flaunt the fact that you, too, have a hatter—</p> +<p class="i4">Well then, in self-defence I'll pick with you</p> +<p class="i16">A bone or two.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Perchance you have a motive, deep, ulterior,</p> +<p class="i2">In donning head-gear borrowed from banditti?</p> +<p>You wish to show an intellect superior,</p> +<p class="i2">(And hide a profile which is not too pretty?)</p> +<p class="i4">Or is it, simply, you prefer to go</p> +<p class="i16"><i>Incognito</i>?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>A transmigrated <span class="sc">Balaam's</span> self you <i>may</i> be,</p> +<p class="i2">But still I bar your method of progression;</p> +<p>For while I sit, as helpless as a baby,</p> +<p class="i2">And scale each precipice in steep succession,</p> +<p class="i4">You scorn the mule-track, and pursue the edge</p> +<p class="i16">Of ev'ry ledge.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>How can I scan with rapt enthusiasm</p> +<p class="i2">These Alpine heights, when balanced <i>à la</i> <span class="sc">Blondin</span>,</p> +<p>While you survey with bird's-eye view each chasm?</p> +<p class="i2">I cry <i>Eyupp! Avanti!</i>—<i>you</i> respond in</p> +<p class="i4">Attempts straightway to improvise a</p> +<p class="i16">"chute" For me, you brute!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Basta! per Bacco!</i> I'll no longer straddle</p> +<p class="i2">(With cramp in each adductor and extensor)</p> +<p>This seat of torture that they call a saddle!</p> +<p class="i2"><i>Va via!</i> in plain English, get thee hence, or——</p> +<p class="i4">On second thoughts, to leave unsaid the rest,</p> +<p class="i16">I think, were best!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>TO MAUDE.</h3> + +<h4>(<i>In and Out of Church.</i>)</h4> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>A little saint! At church I see you pray,</p> +<p class="i2">As if a worldly thought would make you faint,</p> +<p>Serenely walking on your heavenly way,</p> +<p class="i16"> A little saint.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And yet—although I would make no complaint.—</p> +<p class="i2">You quickly doff the grave to don the gay.</p> +<p>Your cheeks aren't wholly innocent of paint,</p> +<p class="i2">You flirt outrageously the livelong day.</p> +<p>Colloquially, dear <span class="sc">Maude</span>, in fact you ain't</p> +<p class="i2">I'm thoroughly rejoiced to say</p> +<p class="i16">A little saint.</p> + </div> </div> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page142" id="page142"></a>[pg 142]</span> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2>LOVE AND LAW.</h2> + +<h4>(<i>A Fragment from a Modern Romance.</i>)</h4> + +<blockquote><p> +["It would be distinctly an advantage +to girls to serve as clerks in a +lawyer's office before they launched +forth on the world."—<i>Weekly +Paper.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p><span class="sc">Edwin</span> was sad indeed, for +all had gone against him. He +had lost everything. Even the +furniture in the house he occupied +was scarcely his—for all he +knew, at any moment it might +be seized in execution.</p> + +<p>"What shall I do?" he asked +again, wringing his hands and +tearing his hair.</p> + +<p>"Cheer up," was the reply, +spoken in a soft voice and by a +sweet-faced girl. It was <span class="sc">Angelina</span>.</p> + +<p>"And you have come to me +in my distress—after I have +treated you so badly?" he said, +with a flush of shame colouring +his hitherto pale face.</p> + +<p>"No, darling," returned the +golden-haired maiden, looking +into his brown eyes with optics +of an azure hue. "Do not say +that you have behaved badly +to me. You wrong yourself; +you do, indeed."</p> + +<p>"Have I not deserted you?" +he asked in a tone of bitter +sorrow.</p> + +<p>"But only after you had +written me letters upon which +I could base an action for +breach of promise," murmured +the forgiving girl.</p> + +<p>"But do you propose to +proceed upon them?" he asked +earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my own. To quote +that touching song you so frequently +sang to me in the gilded +days of the golden past, 'it will +be the best for you and best +for me.' I shall certainly ask +for substantial damages."</p> + +<p>"And is there no way to avoid +this crushing, this final disaster?" +asked the young man, +in deep distress.</p> + +<p>"Dearest, you know that I +have studied the law. Well, I +would propose that you should +carry out your contract. I have +here the form which requires +but the registrar's signature to +make us man and wife. What +do you say to the matter being +settled to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"If it must be so, it must," +returned <span class="sc">Edwin</span>, in a tone of resignation. +"And now, as we +are to be married to-morrow, +let us dine together. I have an +invitation from my aunt at +Putney to stay with her until +my goods have been seized and +sold. I am off. She will extend +to you her hospitality."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my betrothed, I cannot +come." she sobbed. "I am kept +here by duty."</p> + +<p>"Well, as you will," he replied, +carelessly. "But I suppose +we meet at noon at the +registrar's to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for by that time all +will be over. The goods will +be removed, and I shall be free—free +to become your wife."</p> + +<p>"But what have you got to do +with my property?"</p> + +<p>Then came the sorrowful admission.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <span class="sc">Edwin</span>, my own. You +know I am in a lawyer's office. +For the moment I am their +guardian. Yes, darling, I am +the woman in possession!"</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/142-800.png"><img src="images/142-350.png" width="350" height="469" alt="DOMESTIC ECONOMY." /></a> +<h3 class="sans">DOMESTIC ECONOMY.</h3> + +<p><i>Cook</i> (<i>to Vicar's Wife</i>). "<span class="sc">And what's to be done with the Sole +that was saved yesterday, Ma'am?</span>"</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>BALLADE OF LOST REPARTEES.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>When mirthful humours reign supreme,</p> +<p class="i2">And heated revellers are prone</p> +<p>To make sound wisdom kick the beam,</p> +<p class="i2">While vain wine-bubble wit alone</p> +<p class="i2">Has weight, we, mostly, can depone</p> +<p>To feeling joy to blankness fade</p> +<p class="i2">On finding, now our chance has flown,</p> +<p>The repartee we might have made.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>One prating fool is apt to deem</p> +<p class="i2">No jesting pretty save his own;</p> +<p>Another strives, whate'er the theme,</p> +<p class="i2">To make all comers, passive grown,</p> +<p class="i2">"Perform the office of a hone"<a id="footnotetag1" name="footnotetag1"></a><a class="footnote" href="#footnote1">*</a></p> +<p>For sharpening his witty blade;—</p> +<p class="i2">Too late below our breath we moan</p> +<p>The repartee we might have made.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Of course, it now contrives to seem</p> +<p class="i2">So patent to the dullest drone;</p> +<p>And, if we wake or if we dream,</p> +<p class="i2">It weighs upon us like a stone,</p> +<p class="i2">But, unlike, cannot now be thrown;</p> +<p>And thus we languish in the shade,</p> +<p class="i2">Because the world has never known</p> +<p>The repartee we might have made.</p> + </div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8" style="font-size: 1.2em;"><b><i>Envoi.</i></b></p> +</div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">My friends, a certain sage has shown</p> +<p>What paving-stones below are laid;</p> +<p class="i2">Now learn that on each blast is blown</p> +<p>The repartee we might have made!</p> + </div> </div> + +<p class="note" style="padding-left: 4.5em;"><a id="footnote1" name="footnote1"></a><a class="footnote" href="#footnotetag1">*</a></p> + +<div class="poem1"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i12">"<ins title="Translation: I will perform the function of a whetstone, which is about to restore sharpness to iron, though itself unable to cut."><i>Fungar vice cotis</i>, acutum</ins></p> +<p><ins title="Translation: I will perform the function of a whetstone, which is about to restore sharpness to iron, though itself unable to cut.">Reddere quæ ferrum valet, exsors ipsa secandi</ins>."</p> +<p class="i8"><span class="sc">Horace.</span> <i>De Arte Poetica.</i></p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3 class="sans">THE BURDEN OF BURDON SANDERSON.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +["Every organism must have sprung from a +unicellular ancestor."—<i>Dr. Burdon Sanderson's +Presidential Address to the British Association.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>That life is a sell we most of us know,</p> +<p class="i2">But Doctor <span class="sc">Burdon Sanderson</span> tells</p> +<p>It began in a cell oh! æons ago!</p> +<p class="i2">And Progress is merely the growth of cells.</p> +<p>And is <i>that</i> what you were fashioned for</p> +<p>Our "unicellular ancestor"?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"The specific energy of cells"</p> +<p class="i2">Is a taking phrase, but what does it mean?</p> +<p>Is it merely the Life that in most things dwells,</p> +<p class="i2">Or must we go reading the lines between,</p> +<p>To find what you really were fashioned for,</p> +<p>Our "unicellular ancestor"?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Words, words, words! What matter if</p> +<p class="i2">They're scientific and pseudo-oracular.</p> +<p>Or, scouting a terminology stiff,</p> +<p class="i2">Couched in sciolist's plain vernacular!</p> +<p><i>Do</i> they tell us what you were fashioned for,</p> +<p>Our "unicellular ancestor"?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="sc">Burdon's</span> burden, like <span class="sc">Villon's</span> of old</p> +<p class="i2">Leaves us a prey to doubt and fear.</p> +<p>Your meaning and purpose when <i>shall</i> we be told</p> +<p class="i2">Oh cells—or snows—of yester-year?</p> +<p>Or what you truly were fashioned for</p> +<p>Our "unicellular ancestor"?</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Modern "Tender" Passion.</span>—Bimetallism.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2 class="sans">ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + +<h4><span class="sc">Extracted from the Diary of Toby, M.P.</span></h4> + +<p><i>House of Commons, Monday, September 11.</i>—<span class="sc">Alpheus +Cleophas</span> walking about the +Lobby with a new foot-rule obtrusively +held in his hand. Thought at first he was +going to probe somebody, after the fashion +of <span class="sc">Swift MacNeill</span>, in rare access of +ferocity.</p> + +<p>"No," he said, when I asked him if that +was his business; "we are presently going to +debate question of appointment of Duke of +<span class="sc">Connaught</span> to command at Aldershot. I +want to know precisely how far out of the +line of fighting the Duke was at Tel-el-Kebir. +You know <span class="sc">Campbell-Bannerman's</span> +suave manner. When I put question to him, +he'll say, 'How can I tell the Hon. Member, +not having a foot rule in my pocket.' As +soon as he says that, I whip this out; he will +sit confounded, and either we shall get at +the truth of a matter with which country is +deeply concerned, or <span class="sc">Campbell-Bannerman</span> +must go. I have no personal interest in +such a contingency. If there were a vacancy +at the War Office, it is, of course, quite possible +that Mr. G. might think of me. I fancy +in Committee on the Army Estimates I have +shown I know a thing or two. But that is +neither here nor there. It will be time to +decide on the offer when it is made, if indeed +prejudices, from which even Liberal Ministry +are not free, do not stand in the way. At +present I want to know, within a foot or two—no +one can say I'm unreasonable—how far +off the fighting the Duke of <span class="sc">Connaught</span> stood, and <span class="sc">Campbell-Bannerman</span> +will have to answer the question."</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page143" id="page143"></a>[pg 143]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/143-1500.png"><img src="images/143-600.png" width="600" height="436" alt="A HOUSE OF APOLLO-TICIANS--AS SEEN BY THEMSELVES." /></a> +<h3 class="sans">A HOUSE OF APOLLO-TICIANS—AS SEEN BY THEMSELVES.</h3></div> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page144" id="page144"></a>[pg 144]</span> + +<p>Turned out that <span class="sc">Alpheus</span> did not find opportunity of bringing in +the foot measure. <span class="sc">Dalziel</span> raised question Appointment of Royal +Duke to command at Aldershot; a ticklish +subject for young Member to take up. +<span class="sc">Dalziel's</span> manner +excellent; gave tone to debate, happily +preserved throughout; several times +<span class="sc">Alpheus Cleophas</span> +brought out foot-rule and shook it at +<span class="sc">Campbell-Bannerman</span>. +War Minister, naturally well +up in strategy, had observed +precaution of placing on his +flank his Financial Secretary, +<span class="sc">Woodall</span>, V.C. If there +was any probing to be done +that veteran would receive +first onslaught. Thus assured, <span class="sc">Campbell-Bannerman</span> made admirable +defence of a position held in advance to be shaky. Came +out of Division Lobby with flying colours and majority of 117.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"><a href="images/144-1-700.png"><img src="images/144-1-250.png" width="250" height="329" alt="Alpheus Cleophas's Foot-Rule." /></a>Alpheus Cleophas's Foot-Rule.</div> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Army Votes in Committee of Supply.</p> + +<p><i>House of Lords, Tuesday.</i>—Lords met to-day—at least Lord +<span class="sc">Denman</span> and the Bishop of <span class="sc">Ely</span> did. They, facing each other from +either side of otherwise empty chamber, heard Royal assent given +to number of bills, and House adjourned for seven days. Don't +know what we should have done this week in Lords but for <span class="sc">Denman</span>. +Everyone else gone out of town. He still treads the burning +deck, his plum-hued skull-cap giving touch of chastened colour to +passages leading to and from the House. Severe taste might object +that it is a little painful in conjunction with the brilliant red of the +leather-covered benches. But whoever responsible for selection of +that decoration should have thought of <span class="sc">Denman's</span> skull-cap. He +was here yesterday; did quite a lot of business; moved Second +Reading of his Woman's Suffrage Bill.</p> + +<p>"My Lords," he said, rising from the seat which the burly figure +of the <span class="sc">Markiss</span> usually fills, "I think there is an opportunity of +making substantial progress with this important measure. If your +Lordships will be so good as to suspend the Standing Orders, as has +just been done in case of Naval Defence Amendment Bill, we could +carry the measure through all the stages before your Lordships +rise."</p> + +<p>For all answer <span class="sc">Kensington</span>, on Woolsack in absence of <span class="sc">Lord +Chancellor</span> pacing the battlements of his lordly castle at Deal, put +the question that the Bill be read a second time; declared in same +breath "the Not-Contents have it;" and so <span class="sc">Denman</span> and his little +Bill contemptuously swept aside.</p> + +<p>"I thought better of them, <span class="sc">Toby</span>," he said, when I met him an +hour later still hovering round the closed doors of the House. +Over his arm was his rusty old coat; in one hand a stick; in the +other a hat that had seen silkier days. There was a tear in his +eye, and a tremor in his still musical voice. "It seemed as if a +better day had dawned; and that the House of Lords was about +at last to recognise in me the worthy son of a father once their +pride. Last week the change suddenly came. It was <span class="sc">Denman</span> this +and <span class="sc">Denman</span> that, and 'we must see what we can do about your +Suffrage Bill.' The <span class="sc">Markiss</span> going to his seat on Wednesday gave +me a friendly nod and smile. Usually he never sees me except when +I get on my legs, when he forthwith moves the Adjournment of +House. As for the Whips, I fancied they must have been looking +up my speeches in <i>Hansard</i>, and learned what they had lost by not +being in their place to hear them. 'I trust your lordship is well, +and do not find the electric light too glaring?' 'You must take a +place by the table so that you can hear <span class="sc">Salisbury</span> and <span class="sc">Rosebery</span>.' +'We shan't keep you up late on Friday; have arranged to take +Division at midnight so that you may get home in good time. But +you'll be there, of course?'"</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"><a href="images/144-2-600.png"><img src="images/144-2-200.png" width="200" height="325" alt="'It was Denman this, and Denman that.'" /></a> +"It was Denman this, and Denman that."</div> + +<p>"And were you there?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Of course I was there, and voted in majority against Home-Rule +Bill. Came down yesterday prepared to make most of this +new and pleasant turn. Got up to ask <span class="sc">Kimberley</span> question as +to whether postponement of Home-Rule +Bill would date from Friday or Saturday. +Nice point, you know. Everything depends +upon it. No one had discovered point but +me. Expected Government and House +would be grateful. What happened? +<span class="sc">Kimberley</span> snubbed me; House sniggered; +my Woman's Suffrage Bill, about which +Opposition Whips so anxious last week, +treated with usual contumely. I propose +to deal with Coal Strike; they move +the Adjournment, and leave me speechless at +the table. Begin to think that all they +wanted was my vote to swell majority +against Home-Rule Bill. A weary world, +<span class="sc">Toby</span>. Saddest of all +for neglected statesmen in our gilded Chamber. Should you +ever be made a peer take an old man's advice +and do everything you can to obscure your native abilities. Once +you excite the jealousy of men like the <span class="sc">Markiss</span>, and implant in their +bosom suspicion that if they don't look out you may supplant them, +you are lost. Perhaps I made a mistake when I admitted <span class="sc">Farmer-Atkinson</span> +to my councils. You remember him in the other House +as Member for Boston? We had a plan——but no matter. +Still, if <span class="sc">Farmer-Atkinson</span> had led the Commons and I the Lords, +you would have seen something. Perhaps we were too reckless in +our open colloguing in the Lobby. <span class="sc">Gladstone</span> smelt a rat. <span class="sc">Salisbury</span> +saw it moving in the air; the instincts of self-preservation +triumphed over political animosity and the rivalry of a lifetime. +They put their heads together; the coffers of the secret-service +money were depleted; the illimitable resources of the State were in +other ways drawn upon. Where is <span class="sc">Farmer-Atkinson</span> now? I am +left solitary and friendless. For a while the Unholy Alliance +triumphs; but they will find they have not done with <span class="sc">Denman</span> yet."</p> + +<p>The old gentleman took off his skull-cap; carefully wrapped it up; +hid its plumage in his tail-pocket; and pressing his hat over his +brow, shook his grey head, and walked wearily down the corridor.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—House of Lords adjourned for a week.</p> + +<p><i>Saturday</i>, 2.40 <span class="sc">A.M.</span>—"Who goes home?" I hear the cry resounding +through the Lobby. Well, if no one minds, I think I +will. Been here since half-past three yesterday. For the matter of +that, been here since the 31st of January. Coming down again at +noon to sit till <span class="sc">Squire of Malwood</span> can see his prospect clear to +bringing about Adjournment next Saturday.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Mostly all.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>Calf-Love.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Calf-love is a passion most people scorn,</p> +<p>Who've loved, and outlived, life and love's young morn;</p> +<p>But there <i>is</i> a calf-love too common by half,</p> +<p>And that's the love of the Golden Calf!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>Chary of Charing.</h3> + +<p class="center1"> +["The occupation for women exclusively is that of charing."—<i>Daily Paper.</i>] +</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Whilst year by year men kinder grow.</p> +<p class="i2">And from employments won't debar Woman,</p> +<p>It's quite astonishing to know</p> +<p class="i2">Man's everything except a charwoman.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>COMMERCIAL CON.</h3> + +<p class="ind3"><i>Q.</i> Why is a modern advertiser like an ancient knight-errant?</p> + +<p class="ind3"><i>A.</i> Because he is inspired by the spirit of "ad"-venture.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<table align="center" summary="transcriber note" style="margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em;"> +<tr> + <td class="note"> + +<h4>Transcriber's Note:</h4> + +<p>Sundry damaged or missing punctuation has been repaired.</p> + +<p>Corrections are also indicated, in the text, by a dotted line underneath the correction.</p> +<p style="margin-top:-1em;">Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p> + +<p>Page 135: 'hallo'd' corrected to 'hollo'd', to match the others.</p> + +<p>("They hunted and they hollo'd,an' the next thing they did find")</p> + +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +105 September 23, 1893, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON *** + +***** This file should be named 38671-h.htm or 38671-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/6/7/38671/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Lesley Halamek and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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