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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107,
+July 21st 1894, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107, July 21st 1894
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: May 23, 2012 [EBook #39770]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer,
+Ernest Schaal and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+VOL. 107.
+JUNE 21, 1894.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                          A RIVERSIDE LAMENT.
+
+  In my garden, where the rose
+  By the hundred gaily blows,
+  And the river freshly flows
+        Close to me,
+  I can spend the summer day
+  In a quite idyllic way;
+  Simply charming, you would say,
+        Could you see.
+
+  I am far from stuffy town,
+  Where the soots meander down,
+  And the air seems--being brown--
+        Close to me.
+  I am far from rushing train;
+  _Bradshaw_ does not bore my brain,
+  Nor, comparatively plain,
+        _A B C_.
+
+  To my punt I can repair,
+  If the weather's fairly fair,
+  But one grievance I have there;
+        Close to me,
+  As I sit and idly dream,
+  Clammy corpses ever seem
+  Floating down the placid stream
+        To the sea.
+
+  Though the boats that crowd the lock--
+  Such an animated block!--
+  Bring gay damsels, quite a flock,
+        Close to me,
+  Yet I heed not tasty togs,
+  When, as motionless as logs,
+  Float defunct and dismal dogs
+  There _aussi_.
+
+  As in Egypt at a feast,
+  With each party comes at least
+  One sad corpse, departed beast,
+        Close to me;
+  Till a Canon might go off,
+  Till a Dean might swear or scoff,
+  Or a Bishop--tip-top toff
+        In a see.
+
+  Floating to me from above,
+  If it stick, with gentle shove,
+  To my neighbour, whom I love,
+        Close to me,
+  I send on each gruesome guest.
+  Should I drag it out to rest
+  In my garden? No, I'm blest!
+        _Non, merci!_
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE 'ARDEN-ING PROCESS.
+
+_Orlando._ "TIRED, ROSALIND?" _Rosalind._ "PNEUMATICALLY."]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                          OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+"For a modest dish of camp-pie, suited to barracks and youth militant,
+commend me," quoth one of the Baron's Baronites, "to _Only a
+Drummer-Boy_, a maiden effort, and unpretentious, like its author, who
+calls himself ARTHUR AMYAND, but is really Captain ARTHUR DRUMMER
+HAGGARD. He has the rare advantage, missed by most people who write
+soldier novels, of knowing what he is talking about. If there are faults
+'to pardon in the drawing's lines,' they are faults of technique and not
+of anatomy." "The Court is with you," quoth the BARON DE B.-W.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+HOTEL NOTE.--The _chef_ at every Gordon Hotel ought to be a "_Gordon
+Bleu_."
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                      THE VOLUNTEER'S VADE MECUM.
+
+                          (_Bisley Edition._)
+
+_Question._ What is the ambition of every rifleman?
+
+_Answer._ To become an expert marksman.
+
+_Q._ How is this to be done?
+
+_A._ By practice at the regimental butts (where such accommodation
+exists), and appearing at Bisley.
+
+_Q._ Is the new site of the National Rifle Association better than the
+last?
+
+_A._ Certainly, for those who come to Bisley intend to shoot.
+
+_Q._ But did any one turn up at Wimbledon for any purpose other than
+marksmanship?
+
+_A._ Yes, for many of those who occupied the tents used their _marquees_
+merely as a suitable resting-place for light refreshments.
+
+_Q._ Is there anything of that kind at Bisley?
+
+_A._ Not much, as the nearest place of interest is a crematorium, and
+the most beautiful grounds in the neighbourhood belong to a cemetery.
+
+_Q._ Then the business of Bisley is shooting?
+
+_A._ Distinctly. Without the rifle, the place would be as melancholy as
+its companion spot, Woking.
+
+_Q._ In this place of useful work, what is the first object of the
+marksman?
+
+_A._ To score heavily, if possible; but, at any rate, to score.
+
+_Q._ Is it necessary to appear in uniform?
+
+_A._ That depends upon the regulations commanding the prize
+competitions.
+
+_Q._ What is uniform?
+
+_A._ As much or as little of the dress of a corps that a judge will
+order a marksman to adopt.
+
+_Q._ If some marksmen were paraded with their own corps, how would they
+look?
+
+_A._ They would appear to be a sorry sight.
+
+_Q._ Why would they appear to be a sorry sight?
+
+_A._ Because over a tunic would appear a straw hat, and under a
+pouch-belt fancy tweed trousers.
+
+_Q._ But surely if the Volunteers are anxious to improve themselves they
+will practise "smartness"?
+
+_A._ But they do not want to promote smartness; they want to win cups,
+or the value of cups.
+
+_Q._ What is the greatest reward that a marksman can obtain?
+
+_A._ Some hundreds of pounds.
+
+_Q._ And the smallest?
+
+_A._ A dozen of somebody's champagne, or a box of someone else's soap.
+
+_Q._ Under all the circumstances of the case, what would be an
+appropriate rule for Bisley?
+
+_A._ Look after the cup-winning, and everything else will take care of
+itself.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                     LATEST PARLIAMENTARY BETTING.
+
+                        GENERAL ELECTION STAKES.
+
+    2 to 1 on Rosebery and Ladas (coupled).
+   25 to 1 agst Harcourt's Resignation.
+   50 to 1  -- Nonconformist Conscience.
+   70 to 1  -- Budget Bill (off--75 to 1 taken).
+  100 to 1  -- Ministerial Programme.
+
+                   FOR PLACES (NEXT SESSION STAKES).
+
+   2 to 1 on Asquith for the Leadership.
+  12 to 1 agst the Labouchere Peerage.
+
+                    NEW PREMIERSHIP SELLING STAKES.
+
+   12 to 1 on Gladstone Redivivus.
+  200 to 1 agst any other.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                             AS WE LIKE IT.
+
+                          (JAQUES _resumes_.)
+
+  --All the world's upon the stage,
+  And here and there you really get a player:
+  The exits rather than the entrances
+  Are regulated by the County Council;
+  And one man in a season sees a lot--
+  Seven plays a week, including _matinées_,
+  And several acts in each. And first the infant,
+  A vernal blossom of the Garrick Caste,
+  Playing the super in his bassinet,
+  And innocently causing some chagrin
+  To Mr. ECCLES. Then there's _Archibald_,
+  _New Boy_, and nearly father to the man,
+  With mourning on his face and kicks behind,
+  Returning under strong connubial stress
+  Unwillingly to school. And next the lover,
+  Sighing like ALEXANDER for fresh fields,
+  And plunging wofully to win a kiss,
+  Even to his very eyebrows. Then the soldier,
+  Armed with strange maxims and a carpet-bag,
+  Cock-Shaw in military ironies,
+  And blowing off the bubbling repartee
+  With chocolate in his mouth. And next is _Falstaff_,
+  In fair round belly with good bolsters lined,
+  Full of wide sores, and badly cut about
+  By Windsor hussies,--modern instances
+  Of the revolting woman. Sixthly, _Charley's Aunt_.
+  Now ancient as the earth, and shifting still
+  The Penley pantaloons for ladies' gear,
+  Her fine heroic waist a world too wide
+  For the slim corset, and her manly lips,
+  Tuned to the treble of a maiden's pipe,
+  Grasping a big cigar. Last scene of all,
+  The season's close and mere oblivion;
+  Away to Europe and the provinces;
+  And London left forlorn without them all,
+  _Sans-Gêne_, _Santuzza_, yea, _sans_ everything.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "A GOOD TIME COMING!"
+
+_British Farmer ("playing a game of mixed chance and skill with
+Nature")_ "I DO BELIEVE MY LUCK'S ON THE TURN!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         "A GOOD TIME COMING!"
+
+              (_And it HAS been a good time coming._)
+
+    ["The game of mixed chance and skill which the farmer plays each
+    year with Nature is still undecided; but, if the farmer wins,
+    his winnings will be large indeed."
+                              --_The "Times" on Farming Prospects._]
+
+                       _British Farmer, loq.:_--
+
+  Bless my old bones!--they're weary ones, wherefore I takes small
+        shame--
+  For the first time for many a year mine _looks_ a winning game!
+  A "bumper" harvest? Blissful thought! For long I've been fair stuck,
+  But now I really hope I see a change in my bad luck.
+  True, my opponent is a chap 'tis doosed hard to match.
+  I seed a picture once of one a playing 'gainst Old Scratch,
+  And oftentimes I feels like that, a-sticking all together,
+  Against that demon-dicer whom we know as British Weather!
+  What use of ploughs and patience, boys, or skill, and seed, and
+        sickle,
+  'Gainst frost, and rain, and blighted grain, and all that's foul and
+        fickle?
+  When the fly is on the turmuts, and the blight is on the barley,
+  And meadows show like sodden swamps, a farmer do get snarley.
+  But now the crops from hay to hops show promising of plenty,
+  A-doubling last year's average, plus a extry ten or twenty.
+  And straw is good, uncommon so, and barley, wheat and oats, Sir,
+  Make a rare show o'er whose rich glow the long-tried farmer gloats,
+        Sir!
+  Beans ain't so bad, spite o' May frosts; turnips and swedes look
+        topping;
+  Though the frost and fly the mangolds try, and the taters won't be
+        whopping.
+  Those poor unlucky taters! If there's any mischief going,
+  They cop their share, and how they'll fare this year there ain't no
+        knowing;
+  And peas is good, and hops is bad, or baddish. But, by jingo!
+  The sight o' the hay as I saw to-day is as good as a glass of stingo.
+  Pastures and meadows promise prime, well nigh the country over,
+  Though them as depend on their clover-crop will hardly be in clover.
+  But take 'em all, the big and small, the cereals, roots, and grasses,
+  There's a lump o' cheer for the farmers' hearts, and the farmers'
+        wives and lasses;
+  If only him I'm playing against--well, p'r'aps I'd best be civil,--
+  If he isn't JEMMY SQUAREFOOT though, he has the _luck_ o' the divil.
+  With his rain and storm and cold and hot, and his host of insect
+        horrors,
+  He has the pull, and our bright to-days may be spiled by black
+        to-morrers.
+  A cove like him with looks so grim, and flies, and such philistians,
+  Is no fair foe for farmer chaps as is mortial men and Christians.
+  Look at him damply glowering there with a eye like a hungry vulture!
+  With his blights at hand, and his floods to command, he's the scourge
+        of Agriculture.
+  But howsomever, although he's clever, luck's all, and mine seems
+        turning,
+  Oh! for a few more fair fine weeks, not swamped, nor yet too burning,
+  When the sun shines sweet on the slanting wheat, with the bees through
+        the clover humming,
+  And us farmer chaps with a cheery heart _will_ sing "_There's a good
+        time coming!_"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                            A MODERN MADAME.
+
+              (_According to the New School of Teachers._)
+
+She believes in nothing but herself, and never accepts her own
+personality seriously.
+
+She has aspirations after the impossible, and is herself far from
+probable; she regards her husband as an unnecessary evil, and her
+children as disturbances without compensating advantages.
+
+She writes more than she reads and seldom scribbles anything.
+
+She has no feelings, and yet has a yearning after the intense.
+
+She is the antithesis of her grandmother, and has made further
+development in generations to come quite impossible.
+
+She thinks without the thoughts of a male, and yet has lost the
+comprehension of a female.
+
+To sum up, she is hardly up to the standard of a man, and yet has sunk
+several fathoms below the level of a woman.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+MEM. AT LORD'S DURING THE ETON AND HARROW, FRIDAY, JULY 13. (_It rained
+the better part, which became the worse part, of the day._)--Not much
+use trying to do anything with any "match" in the wet.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: TO GOLFERS.
+
+SUGGESTION FOR A RAINY DAY. SPILLIKINS ON A GRAND SCALE.]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                        WHAT WE MAY EXPECT SOON.
+
+_By Our Own Wire._--Dispute broken out between local employer of
+labour--Shoemaker with two apprentices--and his hands. One apprentice
+won't work with t'other. Shoemaker locked out both.
+
+_Later News._--Dispute developing. Amalgamated Association of Trade
+Unions sent fifty thousand men with rifles into town. Also park of
+artillery. Arbitration suggested.
+
+_Special Telegram._--Federated Society of Masters occupying Market Place
+and principal streets with Gatling guns. Expresses itself willing to
+accept Arbitration in principle.
+
+_A Day After._--Conflicts to-day between opposing forces. Streets
+resemble battle-field. Authorities announce--"will shortly act with
+vigour." Enrolled ten extra policemen. Police, including extra ten,
+captured by rioters, and locked up in their own cells. Business--except
+of undertakers--at standstill.
+
+_Latest Developments._--More conflicts, deaths, outrages, incendiarism.
+Central Government telegraphs to Shoemaker to take back both apprentices
+to stop disastrous disorder. No reply. Shoemaker and both apprentices
+been killed in riots.
+
+_Close of the Struggle._--Stock of gunpowder exhausted. Both sides
+inclined to accept compromise. Board of Conciliation formed. Survivors
+of employers and employed shake hands. Town irretrievably ruined, but
+peace firmly re-established.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+WHAT! ALREADY!--"I'm afraid," said Mrs. R., "that the new Tower Bridge
+is in a bad way. I hear it said, of course I do not know with what
+truth, that it has 'bascules.' Now weren't they the insects that
+destroyed the crops one year and gave so many persons the influenza? I
+think you'll find I'm right."
+
+                                 * * *
+
+EPIGRAMMATIC DESCRIPTION, BY A BILLIARD PLAYER, OF THE SELECTION OF THE
+CHIEF MINSTREL TO BE THE RECIPIENT OF A PRIZE AT THE RECENT
+EISTEDDFOD.--"_Spot Bard._"
+
+                                 * * *
+
+ACCIDENTS IN OUR ROTTENEST ROTTEN ROW.--The sooner the cause (_i.e._
+Rotten Row itself) of the numerous complaints is _well grounded_, the
+better for the equestrians.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+NATIONAL REFLECTION (SUGGESTED BY RECENT YACHT-RACE).--It is of small
+use BRITANNIA being BRITANNIA unless she be also Vigilant.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                            LYRE AND LANCET.
+
+                         (_A Story in Scenes._)
+
+                     PART III.--THE TWO ANDROMEDAS.
+
+    SCENE III.--_Opposite a Railway Bookstall at a London Terminus._
+                      TIME--_Saturday_, 4.25 P.M.
+
+_Drysdale_ (_to his friend_, GALFRID UNDERSHELL, _whom he is "seeing
+off"_). Twenty minutes to spare; time enough to lay in any quantity of
+light literature.
+
+_Undershell (in a head voice)._ I fear the merely ephemeral does not
+appeal to me. But I should like to make a little experiment. (_To the
+Bookstall Clerk._) A--do you happen to have a copy left of CLARION
+BLAIR'S _Andromeda_?
+
+_Clerk._ Not in stock, Sir. Never 'eard of the book, but daresay I could
+get it for you. Here's a Detective Story we're sellin' like 'ot
+cakes--_The Man with the Missing Toe_--very cleverly written story, Sir.
+
+[Illustration: "Here 's a detective story we're sellin' like 'ot
+cakes."]
+
+_Und._ I merely wished to know--that was all. (_Turning with resigned
+disgust to_ DRYSDALE.) Just think of it, my dear fellow. At a bookstall
+like this one feels the pulse, as it were, of Contemporary Culture; and
+here my _Andromeda_, which no less an authority than the _Daily
+Chronicle_ hailed as the uprising of a new and splendid era in English
+Songmaking, a Poetic Renascence, my poor _Andromeda_ is trampled
+underfoot by--(_choking_)--Men with Missing Toes! What a satire on our
+so-called Progress!
+
+_Drys._ That a purblind public should prefer a Shilling Shocker for
+railway reading when for a modest half-guinea they might obtain a
+numbered volume of Coming Poetry on hand-made paper! It _does_ seem
+incredible,--but they do. Well, if they can't read _Andromeda_ on the
+journey, they can at least peruse a stinger on it in this week's
+_Saturday_. Seen it?
+
+_Und._ No. I don't vex my soul by reading criticisms on my work. I am no
+KEATS. They may howl--but they will not kill _me_. By the way, the
+_Speaker_ had a most enthusiastic notice last week.
+
+_Drys._ So you saw _that_ then? But you're right not to mind the others.
+When a fellow's contrived to hang on to the Chariot of Fame, he can't
+wonder if a few rude and envious beggars call out "Whip behind!" eh? You
+don't want to get in yet? Suppose we take a turn up to the end of the
+platform.                                                [_They do._
+
+    JAMES SPURRELL, M.R.C.V.S., _enters with his friend_, THOMAS
+    TANRAKE, _of_ HURDELL AND TANRAKE, _Job and Riding Masters,
+    Mayfair_.
+
+_Spurrell._ Yes, it's lucky for me old SPAVIN being laid up like
+this--gives me a regular little outing, do you see? going down to a
+swell place like this Wyvern Court, and being put up there for a day or
+two! I shouldn't wonder if they do you very well in the housekeeper's
+room. (_To_ Clerk.) Give me a _Pink 'Un_ and last week's _Dog Fancier's
+Guide_.
+
+_Clerk._ We've returned the unsold copies. Could give you _this_ week's;
+or there's _The Rabbit and Poultry Breeder's Journal_.
+
+_Spurr._ Oh, rabbits be blowed! (To TANRAKE.) I wanted you to see that
+notice they put in of _Andromeda_ and me, with my photo and all; it said
+she was the best bull-bitch they'd seen for many a day, and fully
+deserved her first prize.
+
+_Tanrake._ She's a rare good bitch, and no mistake. But what made you
+call her such an outlandish name?
+
+_Spurr._ Well, I _was_ going to call her _Sal_; but a chap at the
+College thought the other would look more stylish if I ever meant to
+exhibit her. _Andromeda_ was one of them Roman goddesses, you know.
+
+_Tanr._ Oh, I knew _that_ right enough. Come and have a drink before you
+start--just for luck--not that you want _that_.
+
+_Spurr._ I'm lucky enough in most things, TOM; in everything except
+love. I told you about that girl, you know--EMMA--and my being as good
+as engaged to her, and then, all of a sudden, she went off abroad and
+I've never seen or had a line from her since. Can't call _that_ luck,
+you know. Well, I won't say no to a glass of something.
+
+                            [_They disappear into the Refreshment Room._
+
+         _The_ Countess of CANTIRE _enters with her daughter_,
+                          Lady MAISIE MULL.
+
+_Lady Cantire_ (_to_ Footman). Get a compartment for us, and two
+foot-warmers, and a second-class as near ours as you can for PHILLIPSON;
+then come back here. Stay, I'd better give you PHILLIPSON'S ticket.
+(_The_ Footman _disappears in the crowd._) Now we must get something to
+read on the journey. (_To_ Clerk.) I want a book of some sort--no
+rubbish, mind; something serious and improving, and _not_ a work of
+fiction.
+
+_Clerk._ Exactly so, Ma'am. Let me see. Ah, here's _Alone with the 'Airy
+Ainoo_. How would you like _that_?
+
+_Lady Cant._ (_with decision_). I should not like it at all.
+
+_Clerk._ I quite understand. Well, I can give you _Three 'Undred Ways of
+Dressing the Cold Mutton_--useful little book for a family, redooced to
+one and ninepence.
+
+_Lady Cant._ Thank you. I think I will wait until I am reduced to one
+and ninepence.
+
+_Clerk._ Precisely. What do you say to _Seven 'Undred Side-splitters for
+Sixpence_? 'Ighly yumorous, I assure you.
+
+_Lady Cant._ Are these times to split our sides, with so many serious
+social problems pressing for solution? You are presumably not without
+intelligence; do you never reflect upon the responsibility you incur in
+assisting to circulate trivial and frivolous trash of this sort?
+
+_Clerk_ (_dubiously_). Well, I can't say as I do, particular, Ma'am. I'm
+paid to sell the books--I don't _select_ 'em.
+
+_Lady Cant._ That is _no_ excuse for you--you ought to exercise some
+discrimination on your own account, instead of pressing people to buy
+what can do them no possible good. You can give me a _Society Snippets_.
+
+_Lady Maisie._ Mamma! A penny paper that says such rude things about the
+Royal Family!
+
+_Lady Cant._ It's always instructive to know what these creatures are
+saying about one, my dear, and it's astonishing how they manage to find
+out the things they do. Ah, here's GRAVENER coming back. He's got us a
+carriage, and we'd better get in.
+
+                [_She and her daughter enter a first-class compartment_;
+                    UNDERSHELL _and_ DRYSDALE _return_.
+
+_Drys._ (_to_ UNDERSHELL). Well, I don't see now where the insolence
+comes in. These people have invited you to stay with them----
+
+_Und._ But why? Not because they appreciate my work--which they probably
+only half understand--but out of mere idle curiosity to see what manner
+of strange beast a Poet may be! And _I_ don't know this Lady
+CULVERIN--never met her in my life! What the deuce does she mean by
+sending me an invitation? Why should these smart women suppose that they
+are entitled to send for a Man of Genius, as if he was their _lackey?_
+Answer me that!
+
+_Drys._ Perhaps the delusion is encouraged by the fact that Genius
+occasionally condescends to answer the bell.
+
+_Und._ (_reddening_). Do you imagine I am going down to this place
+simply to please _them_?
+
+_Drys._ I should think it a doubtful kindness, in your present frame of
+mind; and, as you are hardly going to please yourself, wouldn't it be
+more dignified, on the whole, not to go at all?
+
+_Und._ You never _did_ understand me! Sometimes I think I was born to
+be misunderstood! But you might do me the justice to believe that
+I am not going from merely snobbish motives. May I not feel that
+such a recognition as this is a tribute less to my poor self than to
+Literature, and that, as such, I have scarcely the _right_ to decline
+it?
+
+_Drys._ Ah, if you put it in that way, I am silenced, of course.
+
+_Und._ Or what if I am going to show these Patricians that--Poet of the
+People as I am--they can neither patronise nor cajole me?
+
+_Drys._ Exactly, old chap--what if you _are_?
+
+_Und._ I don't say that I may not have another reason--a--a rather
+romantic one--but you would only sneer if I told you! I know you think
+me a poor creature whose head has been turned by an undeserved success.
+
+_Drys._ You're not going to try to pick a quarrel with an old chum, are
+you? Come, you know well enough I don't think anything of the sort. I've
+always said you had the right stuff in you, and would show it some day;
+there are even signs of it in _Andromeda_ here and there; but you'll do
+better things than that, if you'll only let some of the wind out of your
+head. I like you, old fellow, and that's just why it riles me to see you
+taking yourself so devilish seriously on the strength of a little volume
+of verse which has been "boomed" for all it's worth, and considerably
+more. You've only got your immortality on a short repairing lease at
+present, old boy!
+
+_Und._ (_with bitterness_). I am fortunate in possessing such a candid
+friend. But I mustn't keep you here any longer.
+
+_Drys._ Very well. I suppose you're going first? Consider the feelings
+of the CULVERIN footman at the other end!
+
+_Und._ (_as he fingers a first-class ticket in his pocket_). You have a
+very low view of human nature! (_Here he remarks a remarkably pretty
+face at a second-class window close by._) As it _happens_, I am
+travelling second.                                   [_He gets in._
+
+_Drys._ (_at the window_). Well, good-bye, old chap. Good luck to you at
+Wyvern, and remember--wear your livery with as good a grace as possible.
+
+_Und._ I do not intend to wear any livery whatever.
+
+     [_The owner of the pretty face regards_ UNDERSHELL _with interest._
+
+_Spurr_. (_coming out of the Refreshment Room_). What, second? with all
+my exes. paid? Not _likely_! I'm going to travel in style this journey.
+No--not a smoker; don't want to create a bad impression, you know. This
+will do for me.
+
+        [_He gets into a compartment occupied by_ Lady CANTIRE _and her
+            daughter._
+
+_Tanr._ (_at the window_). There--you're off now. Pleasant journey to
+you, old man. Hope you'll enjoy yourself at this Wyvern Court you're
+going to--and I say, don't forget to send me that notice of _Andromeda_
+when you get back!
+
+      [_The_ Countess _and_ Lady MAISIE _start slightly; the train moves
+            out of the station._
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: 'ARRY AT BISLEY.
+
+'_Arry_ (_to 'Arriet_). "OH, I SY! WHAT SEEDS THEM MUST BE TO GROW A
+LAMP-POST!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                      THE LATEST GREAT YACHT RACE.
+
+                    (_By our own Nautical Special._)
+
+DEAR SIR,--The captain went on board the gallant _Naughty Lass_ with his
+Wind Lass. A Wind Lass is short for "Winn'd Lass," _i.e._ a Lass he has
+won. I think her name is "POLL." The Captain says he is always true to
+her, and nothing will ever induce him to leave his dear Wind Lass ashore
+when he's afloat. Noble sentiment, but unpractical. The fact is (as
+whispered) the Wind Lass is jealous of the _Naughty Lass_, and won't let
+the Captain go alone. When the other Captain went on board the rival of
+the gallant _Naughty Lass_, the _Anne Nemone_, and "the crafty ones," as
+they call the sailors "in the know," were ready to bet any money on the
+_Anne Nemone_. Both cutters "cut" (hence the name) well away from each
+other at the start, and a fresh breeze coming up (the stale one had been
+got rid of) there was a lot of fore-reaching, until the Captain, who is
+an old hand at this sort of thing, sent round steward with brandy. "All
+hands for grog!" was then the order of the day, and we just managed to
+clear Muddle Point, leaving the home-marked (or "home-made," I forget
+which is the technical term, but I suppose the latter, as she was built
+on the neighbouring premises) boat well to windward. After a free reach
+in this weather down to Boot Shore--where the vessel heeled over a bit,
+but nothing to speak of, as it was soon remedied by a cobble that was
+close at hand--the _Naughty Lass_ lifted her head-sails, and away we
+went for Incog Bay, where nobody knew us, or we should have been
+received with three times three.
+
+At this moment the _Anne Nemone_, racing close to us, let out a right
+good "gybe," which was in execrable taste, I admit, but which ought not
+to have called for any retort from the captain's Wind Lass, who gave it
+her hot and strong, and threatened to haul her over the coal-scuttlers.
+Fortunately we were away again, and there was no time for opposite
+gybes. (I spell "gybes" in the old English nautical fashion, but, as I
+ascertain, it is precisely the same as "jibes.") Sailors' language is a
+bit odd; they don't mean anything, I know--it's only professional;
+still, as reporting the matter to ears polite, I scarcely like to set
+down in full _all_ I heard. At 1 P.M. all hands were piped for luncheon,
+and we had spinnakers cooked in their skins (they are a sort of bean),
+with a rare nautical dish called "Booms and Bacon." Fine! I did enjoy
+it! But then I'm an old hand at this sort of thing,--luncheon on board,
+I mean; for there's scarcely a board, be it sea board or other board,
+or, in fact, any boarding establishment, that I don't know. But "yeo ho!
+my boys! and avast!" for are we not still racing? We are!!
+
+We passed The Bottle at 2.30 P.M. What had become of the _Anne Nemone_ I
+don't know, and probably we should never have seen her again had not our
+captain, who was trying to sight the port after passing The Bottle,
+stood on the wrong tack, which ran into his boot and hurt him awfully.
+He was carried below, and we gathered round him as he turned to the
+_Naughty Lass_ and murmured--but POLLY objected that there was nothing
+to murmur about or to grumble at, and that the sooner he stumbled on
+deck the better it would be for the race. So up rose our brave captain,
+took a stiff draught of weather bilge (which is the best preventive of
+sea-sickness), and calling for his first mate, Mr. JACK YARD TOPSAIL,
+told him to "stand away," which I could quite understand, for JACK YARD
+TOPSAIL is a regular salt, full of tar, rum, 'baccy, and everything that
+can make life sweet to _him_, but not to his immediate neighbours. So
+"stand away" and not "stand by" it was, and when we got to Squeams Bay
+the sailors took a short hitch (it is necessary occasionally--but I
+cannot say more--lady-readers being present), and we went streaking away
+like a side of bacon on a fine day.
+
+"Are we winning?" asks POLLY, the Wind Lass. "_You_ look winning!" I
+reply, politely. "By how much?" she inquires, just tucking up her
+skirts, and showing a trim ankle. The Captain, with his glass to his
+eye, and looking down, answers, "The fifth of a long leg!" I never saw a
+woman so angry! "I haven't!" she exclaimed; and there would have been a
+row, and we should never have won, as we did splendidly, had not the
+"First Officer" (just as they name the supernumeraries in a play) come
+up and reminded Pretty POLLY that she wasn't the only mate the Captain
+had on board. "Where's the other?" she cried, in a fury. "Below!"
+answered the First Officer, and down went POLLY, not to re-appear again
+until all was over, and our victorious binnacle was waving proudly from
+the fore-top-gallant. At the finish we went clean into harbour, without
+a speck on our forecastle, or a stain on our character. I wire you the
+account of this great race, and am (Rule BRITANNIA!)
+                                                        Yours,
+                                        "EVERY OTHER INCH A SAILOR!"
+
+P.S.--I am informed that after I left the vessel--in fact it was next
+day--a Burgee was run up at the mast head. I suppose some sort of
+court-martial was held first, and that the Burgee (poor wretch!) was
+caught red-handed. Still, in these days, this sort of proceeding does
+sound rather tyrannical. High-masted justice, eh? Well, sea-dogs will be
+sea-dogs. I don't exactly know what a Burgee is, but I fancy he is
+something between a Buccaneer and a Bargee; a sort of river-and-sea
+pirate. But I fear it is a landsman!! Burgee, masculine (and probably
+husband) of Burgess!! If so, there _will_ be a row!
+                                           YOURS AS BEFORE THE MAST.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "A FRIEND IN NEED--"
+
+ANARCHIST. "'ELP! 'ELP! PER-LICE!!"
+
+CONSTABLE. "'DOWN WITH EVERYTHING,' INDEED! LUCKY FOR _YOU_ YOU HAVEN'T
+'DOWN'D' _ME_!!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                           A FRIEND IN NEED;
+
+                  _Or, The Lawbreaker's Last Refuge._
+
+    Sure stranger irony life never saw
+    Than Lawlessness low suppliant to the Law!
+
+                  _Guardian of Order soliloquiseth:_--
+
+  "Down with Everything!" Ah, yes!
+    That's the sort o' rot you jaw!
+  You'd be in a tidy mess
+    If you'd downed with good old Law.
+  Funniest job we have to do,
+  Is to "save" such scamps as you.
+
+  "Down with Everything!" Spout on!
+    I, who stand for Law, stand by.
+  You may want me ere you've done.
+    Somethink in that workman's eye,
+  And the clenching of his fist,
+  Ought to put you on the twist.
+
+  Think you're fetching of 'em fine
+    With your tommy-rotten patter?
+  Think you've got 'em in a line,
+    Or as near as doesn't matter?
+  Won't you feel in a rare stew
+  If they take to downing _you_?
+
+  Downing is a sort o' game
+    Two can play at _here_--thanks be!
+  Spin your lead out! Don't let shame,
+    Common sense, or courtesy,
+  Put the gag on your red rag;
+  Flourish it--like your Red Flag!
+
+  How they waggle, flag and tongue!
+    Proud o' that same bit of bunting?
+  See the glances on you flung?
+    Hear the British workman grunting?
+  He is none too fond, that chap,
+  Of rank rot and the Red Cap!
+
+  Perched upon a noodle's nob,
+    Minds me of an organ-monkey!--
+  If a workman will not _rob_,
+    You denounce him as a "flunkey."
+  Some of 'em know what that means.
+  Mind your eye! They'll give you beans!
+
+  Ah! I thought so. Gone too fur!
+    Set the British Workman booing.
+  "_Dirty dog!!!_" That riles you, Sir!
+    Better mind what you are doing!
+  Mug goes saffron now, with fear,
+  Round you glare! Yes, Law _is_ here!
+
+  Show your teeth, shark-like and yellow!
+    You won't frighten them, or me.
+  Ah! there comes the true mob-bellow!
+    That means mischief--as you see.
+  Mob, when mettled, goes a squelcher
+  For Thief, Anarchist _or_ Welsher.
+
+  "Help! Perlice!!" Oh! _that_'s your cry!
+    _I'm_ your friend, then,--at a pinch?
+  Funk first taste of Anarchy?
+    Law is better than--Judge Lynch?
+  Rummy this! For all his jaw
+    The lawbreaker flies to Law!
+
+  Good as a sensation novel
+    For to see you crouching there.
+  Can't these Red Flag heroes grovel?
+    Come, my Trojan, have a care.
+  Do not clasp Law's legs that way,
+  Like _Scum Goodman_ in the play.
+
+  Help? Oh, yes; I'll help you--out!--
+    "_Stand back there, please! Pass along!_"
+  Come, get up! _Now_ don't you doubt
+    If your "downing" dodge ain't wrong?
+  Anyhow 'tis, you'll agree,
+  Lucky for _you_--you've not downed _me_!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: WHAT OUR ARTIST HAS TO PUT UP WITH.
+
+_Madame la Baronne_ (_who WILL speak English_). "AND TELL ME, MISTRESS
+BROWN, YOUR CLEVARE 'USBAND, WHO 'AVE A SO BEAUTIFUL TALENT--IS HE YET
+OF ZE ROYAL ACADEMY?"
+
+_Our Artist's Wife_ (_who WILL speak French_). "OH NON, MADAME, HÉLAS!
+SEULEMENT, IL EST _PENDU_ CETTE ANNÉE, VOUS SAVEZ!"
+
+_Madame la Baronne_ (_relapsing into her native language_).
+"OH--MADAME--QUELLE AFFREUSE NOUVELLE!"]
+
+                         A MIDSUMMER DAY-DREAM.
+
+    [_The Jackson-Harmsworth Expedition has started._]
+
+  PUNCH sleeps. The cheerful Sage has heard
+    That JACKSON is about to start.
+  His sympathies are warmly stirred,
+    He hath the _Windward's_ weal at heart.
+  He dreams: That block of dinner ice
+    Stirs arctic fancies in his breast.
+  He travels Pole-ward in a trice;
+    He joins the JACKSON-HARMSWORTH quest.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+  "All precious things, discovered late
+    To those that seek them issue forth."--
+  To find her may be JACKSON'S fate,
+    That Sleeping Beauty of the North!
+  She lieth in her icy cave
+    As still as sleep, as white as death.
+  Her look might stagger the most brave,
+    And make the stoutest hold his breath.
+
+  "The bodies and the bones of those
+    That strove in other days to pass,"
+  Are scattered o'er the spreading snows,
+    Are bleached about that sea of glass.
+  He gazes on the silent dead:
+    "They perished in their daring deeds."
+  The proverb flashes through his head,
+    "The many fail: the one succeeds."
+
+                                 * * *
+
+  _Punch_ wakes: lo! it is but a dream--
+    A vision of the Frozen Sea;
+  Yet may be it may hold a gleam
+    Of prophecy. So mote it be!
+  To JACKSON and to HARMSWORTH too
+    He brims a well-earnt bumper. "Skoal!"
+  Here's health to them and their brave crew!
+    And safe return from well-won goal!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                      THE MINX.--A POEM IN PROSE.
+
+                             [Illustration]
+
+_Poet._ It's so good of you to see me. I merely wished to ask one or two
+questions as to your career. You must have led a most interesting life.
+
+_Sphinx._ You are very inquisitive and extremely indiscreet, and I have
+always carefully avoided being interviewed. However, go on.
+
+_Poet._ I believe you can read hieroglyphs?
+
+_Sphinx._ Oh yes; I _can_, fluently, But I never do. I assure you they
+are not in the least amusing.
+
+_Poet._ No doubt you have talked with hippogriffs and basilisks?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_modestly_). I certainly _was_ in rather a smart set at one
+time. As they say, I have "known better days."
+
+_Poet._ Did you ever have any conversation with THOTH?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_loftily_). Oh, dear no! (_Mimicking._) Thoth he wath not
+conthidered quite a nice perthon. I would not allow him to be introduced
+to me.
+
+_Poet._ You were very particular?
+
+_Sphinx._ One has to be careful. The world is so censorious.
+
+_Poet._ I wonder, would you give me the pleasure of singing to me?
+"_Adrian's Gilded Barge_," for instance?
+
+_Sphinx._ You must really excuse me. I am not in good voice. By the way,
+the "Gilded Barge," as you call it, was merely a shabby sort of punt. It
+would have had no effect whatever at the Henley Regatta.
+
+_Poet._ Dear me! Is it true you played golf among the Pyramids?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_emphatically_). Perfectly untrue. You see what absurd reports
+get about!
+
+_Poet_ (_softly_). They do. What was that story about the Tyrian?
+
+_Sphinx._ Merely gossip. There was nothing in it, I assure you.
+
+_Poet._ And APIS?
+
+_Sphinx._ Oh, he sent me some flowers, and there were paragraphs about
+it--in hieroglyphs--in the society papers. That was all. But they were
+contradicted.
+
+_Poet._ You knew AMMON very well, I believe?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_frankly_). AMMON and I _were_ great pals. I used to see
+a good deal of him. He came in to tea very often--he was _quite_
+interesting. But I have not seen him for a long time. He had one
+fault--he _would_ smoke in the drawing-room. And though I hope I am not
+too conventional, I really could not allow _that_.
+
+_Poet._ How pleased they would all be to see you again! Why do you not
+go over to Egypt for the winter?
+
+_Sphinx._ The hotels at Cairo are so dreadfully expensive.
+
+_Poet._ Is it true you went tunny-fishing with ANTONY?
+
+_Sphinx._ One must draw the line somewhere! CLEOPATRA was so cross. She
+was horribly jealous, and not nearly so handsome as you might suppose,
+though she _was_ photographed as a "type of Egyptian Beauty!"
+
+_Poet._ I must thank you very much for the courteous way in which you
+have replied to my questions. And now will you forgive me if I make an
+observation? In my opinion you are not a Sphinx at all.
+
+_Sphinx_ (_indignantly_). What am I, then?
+
+_Poet._ A Minx.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                        THE LAY OF THE EXPLORER.
+
+  I USED to think that if a man
+    In any character could score a
+  Distinctly leonine success,
+    'Twould be as a returned explorer.
+
+  So, when by sixteen tigers tree'd,
+    Or when mad elephants were charging,
+  I joyed to say--"On this, some day,
+    My countrymen will be enlarging."
+
+  And when mosquitoes buzzed and bit
+    (For 'tis their pleasing nature to),
+  Or fevers floored me, still this dream
+    Helped me to suffer and to do.
+
+  I _have_ returned! Whole dusky tribes
+    I've wiped right out--such labour sweet is!--
+  And with innumerable chiefs
+    Arranged unconscionable treaties.
+
+  What's the result? I have become
+    A butt for each humanitarian,
+  Who call my exploits in the chase
+    The work of a "confessed barbarian."
+
+  And, worst of all, my rival, JONES,
+    Who'd any trick that's low and mean dare,
+  Cries--"Equatorial jungles! Pish!
+    I don't believe he's ever been there!"
+
+  So now I just "explore" Herne Bay,
+    With trippers, niggers, nurses, babies:
+  I've tried for fame. I 've gained it, too:
+    I share it with the vanished JABEZ!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+NOTE AND QUERY.--At Aldershot the QUEEN expressed herself much pleased
+with the "tattoo" all round. "IGNORAMUS" writes to inquire "if
+'tattoo-ing' is done in Indian ink or with gunpowder?"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                           RULE, "BRITANNIA."
+
+                       (_New Yachtical Version._)
+
+                H.R.H. THE P----E OF W----S _sings_:--
+
+  When _Vigilant_, at GOULD'S command,
+    Came over here to sweep the main,
+  This was the lay that thrilled the land,
+    And Yankee Doodle loved the strain--
+      Lick _Britannia!_ the fleet _Britannia_ lick!
+      And JOHNNY BULL may cut his stick.
+
+  But _Vigilant_, less fast than thee,
+    Must in her turn before thee fall,
+  _Britannia_, who hast kept the sea,
+    The dread and envy of them all.
+      Win, _Britannia_! _Britannia_ rules the waves!
+      (Though by the narrowest of shaves.)
+
+  Six races in succession show
+    The Yankee yacht has met her match;
+  Though she was hailed, not long ago,
+    The swiftest clipper of the batch.
+      Rule, _Britannia_! _Britannia_ rule the waves!
+      The most appropriate of staves!
+
+  I'm sorry poor DUNRAVEN'S crack
+    So prematurely has gone down;
+  But mine has kept the winning tack,
+    And well upheld the isle's renown.
+      Rule, _Britannia_! &c.
+
+  When JONATHAN thy match hath found,
+    He'll to our coasts again repair.
+  We'll have another friendly round,
+    With manly hearts and all things fair.
+      Rule, _Britannia_! _Britannia_ rules the waves,
+      Six sequent wins BULL'S honour saves!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                        TO ALTHEA IN THE STALLS.
+
+  From the Orchestra as I was staring
+    So wearily down at the hall,
+  The programme I held hardly caring
+    To turn, I was tired of it all!
+  For I knew 'twas a futile endeavour
+    With music my trouble to drown,
+  And I'd made up my mind that you never,
+    Ah, never, would come back to town!
+
+  When suddenly, there I beheld you
+    Yourself--ah, the joyous amaze!
+  I wonder what instinct impelled you
+    Your dreamy dark eyes to upraise,
+  That for one happy second's communing
+    Met mine that had waited so long--
+  And the wail of the violins tuning
+    It turned to a jubilant song!
+
+  'Mid organ-chords sombre and mellow
+    There breaks out a ripple of glee,
+  And the voice of the violoncello,
+    ALTHEA, is pleading for me!
+  The music is beating and surging
+    With joy no _adagio_ can drown,
+  In ecstasy all things are merging--
+    Because you have come back to town!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+THE COREAN DIFFICULTY.--"_Japan declines to withdraw._"--(_Telegram,
+Thursday, July 12_).--"Ah," observed Miss QUOTER, who is ever ready,
+"that reminds me of BYRON'S line in _Mazeppa_, quite applicable to the
+present situation--
+
+                  'Again he urges on his mild Corea.'"
+
+                                 * * *
+
+NEW WORK (_by the Chief Druid Minstrel at the Eisteddfod, dedicated to
+their Royal Highnesses_).--"_How to be Harpy in Wales._"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: PREHISTORIC PEEPS.
+
+A CRICKET MATCH. "HOWS THAT, UMPIRE?"!!]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
+
+                 EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
+
+_House of Lords, Monday, July 9._--PLAYFAIR'S leonine countenance
+habitually cheerful. But never saw him looking so pleased as when we
+walked through St. Stephen's Chapel on way to Lords just now. "From
+point of view of old House of Commons man the Lords are, I admit, a
+little unresponsive," my Lord said. "The chamber is, acoustically and
+otherwise, the sepulchre of speech. You remember the little lecture on
+margarine I delivered years ago in the Commons? Bless me, how delighted
+the House was to see the table covered with small white pots containing
+samples, with a bottle of best Dorset margarine hooked on to the Mace
+for greater convenience of reference. Often I've enchained an audience
+with my object lessons. Up to present time that monologue on margarine
+ranks as most successful. But I'll beat the record to-night. See that?"
+(Here he slapped a something bulging out from his trouser pocket.)
+"Guess what that is? Thought you couldn't. It's cultch. Know what cultch
+is?"
+
+"Not unless it's the beginning of knowledge," I said, drawing a bow, so
+to speak, at a venture. "Positive cultch, comparative culture, eh?"
+
+PLAYFAIR stared at me vacantly. "Cultch----" he said; "but no, that's
+part of the lecture. Come along to the Lords and hear it."
+
+[Illustration: Suggested Statues for the Vacant Niches in the Inner
+Lobby.
+
+No. I.--"The Majesty of the Law!"]
+
+House not in condition particularly inspiring for lecturer. Benches
+mostly empty; STANLEY of Alderley completed depletion by rambling
+speech of half an hour's duration, modestly described in Orders as "a
+question." Wanted to know how many lighthouses in England and Wales paid
+Income Tax; how many were behindhand with their rates; were Death Duties
+applicable to some of them; if so, which; and whether the tenants
+compounded for rates or otherwise. These inquiries not without interest,
+but STANLEY not chiefly remarkable for concentration of thought or
+conciseness of phrase.
+
+At length PLAYFAIR'S turn came. A flutter of interest amongst Peers as
+he was observed tugging at something in trousers pocket; hauled out what
+looked like empty oyster shell.
+
+"Ah!" said HERSCHELL, smiling, "I see the lawyers have been before us."
+
+"In moving the Second Reading of the Sea Fisheries (Shell Fish) Bill, I
+propose, if I may be permitted, to give your Lordships an object lesson.
+This particular shell," PLAYFAIR continued, holding it up between finger
+and thumb, "is covered all over with microscopic oysters. Oysters in all
+stages of growth are seen there."
+
+"Well," said the MARQUIS OF CARABAS, "if one had a twenty billion
+magnifying glass of the kind associated with the memory of _Sam Weller_,
+perhaps we might see the oysters. All I can say is, I don't see any
+worth three and sixpence a dozen. PLAYFAIR's no business to bring these
+things down here, filling House with smell of stale seaweed when his
+oysters are no bigger than a pin's head."
+
+The MARQUIS strode angrily forth. Others followed. Lecture cut short.
+
+_Business done._--Sea Fisheries (Shell Fish) Bill read a second time,
+amid unexpectedly depressing circumstances.
+
+_House of Commons, Tuesday._--SQUIRE OF MALWOOD back after a week's
+rustication. Brings glowing news of the hay crop; looks, indeed, as if
+he had been helping to make it; ruddier than a cherry; indescribable but
+unmistakable country air about him as he sits on Treasury Bench with
+folded arms, listening to the monotonous ripple of talk renewed on
+Budget Bill.
+
+                 "Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis,"
+
+says PRINCE ARTHUR, looking across at the rustic Squire.
+
+                                          "_At ille_
+              Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis ævum,"
+
+added JOKIM, with approving glance at bench behind, where the Busy B.'s
+swarm after week's rest, humming round amendments with increased vigour.
+
+Almost imperceptible movement of river goes forward. The blameless
+BARTLEY on his feet, entrancing House with particulars of a silver
+cup, prized heirloom in the humble household in Victoria Street. It
+seems that one of BARTLEY'S ancestors--he who came over with the
+Conqueror--had brought with him certain blades of buckwheat, which he
+industriously planted out on the site, then a meadow, on which the Army
+and Navy Stores now flourish. The buckwheat grew apace. One day King
+STEPHEN, passing by on a palfrey, noted the waving green expanse.
+Enquiring to whom the State was indebted for this fair prospect, a
+courtier informed him that it was "the ancestor of GEORGE CHRISTOPHER
+TROUT BARTLEY, Member for North Islington in the thirteenth Parliament
+of Queen VICTORIA."
+
+"By our sooth," said the King, "he shall have a silver cup."
+
+One was forthwith requisitioned from the nearest silversmith's, and this
+it is which now adorns the sideboard in the best parlour at St.
+Margaret's House, Victoria Street, S.W.
+
+These interesting reminiscences of family history GEORGE CHRISTOPHER
+TROUT recited to a charmed House in support of proposed new Clause,
+moved by DICK WEBSTER, exempting from estate duty heirlooms under
+settlement. SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, usually impervious to argument in favour
+of alterations in his prized Budget, evidently moved. If BARTLEY had
+only thought of bringing the cup with him, had at this moment produced
+it from under his cloak, and flashed it forth on gaze of House, the
+Clause would have been added, and the cup, Estate-duty free, would have
+passed on through the ages, telling its simple story to successive
+strata of the BARTLEY family. As it was, SQUIRE stood firm, and
+WEBSTER'S Clause negatived.
+
+"Couldn't do it, my dear WEBSTER," the SQUIRE found opportunity of
+saying, as he met disappointed legislator behind SPEAKER'S Chair. "Of
+course I said the polite thing about BARTLEY'S Cup. But I wasn't
+thinking of that. I know very well what you had in mind in bringing in
+this Clause. The heirlooms you thought of are those cups and medals you
+won for Cambridge when, twenty-nine years ago, you met the Oxford
+Champion in the two-mile race, and in the one-mile spin. If we could do
+something in the Schedules specially exempting them I should be glad.
+Think it over, and see me later."
+
+WEBSTER wrung the SQUIRE'S hand, and passed on, saying nothing. There
+are moments when speech is superfluous. 'Tis true, they don't often
+occur in House of Commons; but here was one. Let us cherish its memory.
+
+_Business done._--Considering and negativing new Clauses to Budget Bill.
+
+_Thursday._--All the cheerfulness of to-day has brightened
+Committee-room, where question of issue of Writ, following on
+application for Chiltern Hundreds, is considered. The SQUIRE under
+examination for nearly two hours and a-half. Difficult to say which the
+more enjoyed it, the witness or the Committee.
+
+[Illustration: An Interesting Specimen. The Coleridge Caterpillar!]
+
+"What is the state of a Peer pending issue of Writ of Summons?" asked
+the SQUIRE, suddenly taking to interrogate the Committee assembled to
+question him. "Is he a caterpillar passing through a larva, spinning a
+cocoon of silk until he reaches a condition where they toil not neither
+do they spin?" (Here, quite by accident, his glance fell upon JOSEPH,
+supposed to be sitting upon him in judicial capacity.) "There is," he
+continued (and here he glanced at PRINCE ARTHUR, smiling at the sly hit
+dealt at his dear friend JOE) "an opening for philosophic doubt as to
+the precise condition of this impounded Peer in his intermediary state."
+
+The House still going about with millstone of Budget Bill round its
+neck, BYRNE, BUTCHER, BEACH, BOWLES and BARTLEY tugging at it,
+KENYON-SLANEY now and then uttering obvious truths with air of
+supernatural wisdom. GRAND YOUNG GARDNER (address Board of Agriculture,
+Whitehall Place, S.W.) hands me scrap of paper; says he found it near
+SQUIRE'S seat on Treasury Bench; but it doesn't look like his writing:
+
+  "Two modes there are, O BYRNE and BUTCHER,
+    Our gratitude to earn:
+  If BYRNE would only burn up BUTCHER,
+    Or BUTCHER butcher BYRNE;
+  Or both combine--yes, bless their souls--
+  To burn and butcher TOMMY BOWLES!"
+
+_Business done._--Very little.
+
+_Friday._--TEMPLE going about much as if on Tuesday night he had got out
+of his cab in the ordinary fashion. He didn't, you know. Taken out in
+sections through the upper window by couple of stalwart policemen. This
+owing to circumstance that Irish cab-driver having, after fashion of his
+country, saved a trot for the avenue, dashed up against kerbstone and
+overturned cab.
+
+"Gave me a start, of course," TEMPLE said, as we brushed him down. "Not
+a convenient way of getting out of your hansom. What I was afraid of was
+being disfigured. Am not a vain man, but don't mind telling you, TOBY, a
+scratch or a scar on one's face would have been exceedingly annoying.
+But I'm all right, as you see. Hope it isn't a portent. A small thing
+that under this Government I should be overturned. What I fear is, that
+unless we keep our eye on them they'll overturn the Empire."
+
+_Business done._--Not yet done with Budget.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+FASHIONABLE INFORMATION AND SUGGESTION.--The Duke and Duchess of BEDFORD
+having returned from Thorney will go to Beds;--a delightful change, that
+is unless they are rose-beds, which are proverbially thorny. And "the
+Duchess of ROXBURGHE goes to Floors." No Beds here; only Floors. Why not
+combine the two establishments and get them both under one roof?
+
+                                 * * *
+
+"_NIHIL tetiqit quod non ornavit_," as the prizefighter said of his
+right fist, after blacking his opponent's eye and breaking the bridge of
+his nose.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+"The Knights of Labour" seem to be banded together against "Days of
+Work."
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: CRUEL!
+
+_Lucullus Brown_ (_on hospitable purpose intent_). "ARE YOU DINING
+ANYWHERE TO-MORROW NIGHT?"
+
+_Jones_ (_not liking to absolutely "give himself away"_). "LET ME
+SEE"--(_considers_)--"NO; I'M NOT DINING ANYWHERE TO-MORROW."
+
+_Lucullus Brown_ (_seeing through the artifice_). "UM! POOR CHAP! HOW
+HUNGRY YOU WILL BE!"
+
+                                           ["_Exeunt,--severally._"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         THE ROYAL WELSH BARD.
+
+    [The Prince of WALES was initiated as a Bard the other day at
+    the Carnarvon Eisteddfod.]
+
+  The Minstrel-Prince to his Wales has gone,
+    In the ranks of the Bards you'll find him;
+  His bardic cloak he has girded on,
+    And his tame harp slung behind him.
+  "Land of Song!" said the Royal Bard,
+    "You remarkably rum-spelt land, you,
+  One Prince at least shall try very hard
+      To pronounce you, and understand you."
+
+  The Prince tried hard, but the songs he heard
+    Very soon brought his proud soul under,
+  With twenty consonants packed in a word,
+    And no vowels to keep them asunder!
+  So he said to the Druid, "A word with you,
+    Your jaw must be hard as nails, Sir;
+  Your songs may do for the bold Cymru,
+    They've done for the Prince of WALES, Sir!"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                              GOOD WISHES.
+
+    (_To Mr. and Mrs. J. M. Barrie on their Marriage, July 9, 1894._)
+
+  "When authors venture on a play,
+    They have been known to find them undone,
+  But Mr. BARRIE found the way
+    To great success in _Walker, London_.
+  A ready TOOLE he'd close at hand,
+    And those who know her merry glance'll
+  Not find it hard to understand
+    How much was due to MARY ANSELL.
+
+  Her acting in the House-boat Scene
+    Led Mr. BARRIE to discover
+  He'd lost his heart (although he'd _been_
+    Of Lady NICOTINE a lover).
+  And those who felt sweet NANNY'S charm,
+    Or who in Thrums delight to tarry,
+  Long happy life, quite free from harm,
+    Will wish this new-formed firm of BARRIE.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber Notes:
+
+Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_.
+
+Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS.
+
+Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of
+the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.
+
+The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up
+paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate. Thus
+the page number of the illustration might not match the page number in
+the List of Illustrations, and the order of illustrations may not be the
+same in the List of Illustrations and in the book.
+
+Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected
+unless otherwise noted.
+
+On page 25, "o" was changed to "to".
+
+On page 25, "Isi" was changed to "Is it".
+
+On page 31, a quotation mark was added before "'DOWN WITH".
+
+
+
+
+
+PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+VOL. 107.
+JUNE 21, 1894.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                          A RIVERSIDE LAMENT.
+
+  In my garden, where the rose
+  By the hundred gaily blows,
+  And the river freshly flows
+        Close to me,
+  I can spend the summer day
+  In a quite idyllic way;
+  Simply charming, you would say,
+        Could you see.
+
+  I am far from stuffy town,
+  Where the soots meander down,
+  And the air seems--being brown--
+        Close to me.
+  I am far from rushing train;
+  _Bradshaw_ does not bore my brain,
+  Nor, comparatively plain,
+        _A B C_.
+
+  To my punt I can repair,
+  If the weather's fairly fair,
+  But one grievance I have there;
+        Close to me,
+  As I sit and idly dream,
+  Clammy corpses ever seem
+  Floating down the placid stream
+        To the sea.
+
+  Though the boats that crowd the lock--
+  Such an animated block!--
+  Bring gay damsels, quite a flock,
+        Close to me,
+  Yet I heed not tasty togs,
+  When, as motionless as logs,
+  Float defunct and dismal dogs
+  There _aussi_.
+
+  As in Egypt at a feast,
+  With each party comes at least
+  One sad corpse, departed beast,
+        Close to me;
+  Till a Canon might go off,
+  Till a Dean might swear or scoff,
+  Or a Bishop--tip-top toff
+        In a see.
+
+  Floating to me from above,
+  If it stick, with gentle shove,
+  To my neighbour, whom I love,
+        Close to me,
+  I send on each gruesome guest.
+  Should I drag it out to rest
+  In my garden? No, I'm blest!
+        _Non, merci!_
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE 'ARDEN-ING PROCESS.
+
+_Orlando._ "TIRED, ROSALIND?" _Rosalind._ "PNEUMATICALLY."]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                          OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+"For a modest dish of camp-pie, suited to barracks and youth militant,
+commend me," quoth one of the Baron's Baronites, "to _Only a
+Drummer-Boy_, a maiden effort, and unpretentious, like its author, who
+calls himself ARTHUR AMYAND, but is really Captain ARTHUR DRUMMER
+HAGGARD. He has the rare advantage, missed by most people who write
+soldier novels, of knowing what he is talking about. If there are faults
+'to pardon in the drawing's lines,' they are faults of technique and not
+of anatomy." "The Court is with you," quoth the BARON DE B.-W.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+HOTEL NOTE.--The _chef_ at every Gordon Hotel ought to be a "_Gordon
+Bleu_."
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                      THE VOLUNTEER'S VADE MECUM.
+
+                          (_Bisley Edition._)
+
+_Question._ What is the ambition of every rifleman?
+
+_Answer._ To become an expert marksman.
+
+_Q._ How is this to be done?
+
+_A._ By practice at the regimental butts (where such accommodation
+exists), and appearing at Bisley.
+
+_Q._ Is the new site of the National Rifle Association better than the
+last?
+
+_A._ Certainly, for those who come to Bisley intend to shoot.
+
+_Q._ But did any one turn up at Wimbledon for any purpose other than
+marksmanship?
+
+_A._ Yes, for many of those who occupied the tents used their _marquees_
+merely as a suitable resting-place for light refreshments.
+
+_Q._ Is there anything of that kind at Bisley?
+
+_A._ Not much, as the nearest place of interest is a crematorium, and
+the most beautiful grounds in the neighbourhood belong to a cemetery.
+
+_Q._ Then the business of Bisley is shooting?
+
+_A._ Distinctly. Without the rifle, the place would be as melancholy as
+its companion spot, Woking.
+
+_Q._ In this place of useful work, what is the first object of the
+marksman?
+
+_A._ To score heavily, if possible; but, at any rate, to score.
+
+_Q._ Is it necessary to appear in uniform?
+
+_A._ That depends upon the regulations commanding the prize
+competitions.
+
+_Q._ What is uniform?
+
+_A._ As much or as little of the dress of a corps that a judge will
+order a marksman to adopt.
+
+_Q._ If some marksmen were paraded with their own corps, how would they
+look?
+
+_A._ They would appear to be a sorry sight.
+
+_Q._ Why would they appear to be a sorry sight?
+
+_A._ Because over a tunic would appear a straw hat, and under a
+pouch-belt fancy tweed trousers.
+
+_Q._ But surely if the Volunteers are anxious to improve themselves they
+will practise "smartness"?
+
+_A._ But they do not want to promote smartness; they want to win cups,
+or the value of cups.
+
+_Q._ What is the greatest reward that a marksman can obtain?
+
+_A._ Some hundreds of pounds.
+
+_Q._ And the smallest?
+
+_A._ A dozen of somebody's champagne, or a box of someone else's soap.
+
+_Q._ Under all the circumstances of the case, what would be an
+appropriate rule for Bisley?
+
+_A._ Look after the cup-winning, and everything else will take care of
+itself.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                     LATEST PARLIAMENTARY BETTING.
+
+                        GENERAL ELECTION STAKES.
+
+    2 to 1 on Rosebery and Ladas (coupled).
+   25 to 1 agst Harcourt's Resignation.
+   50 to 1  -- Nonconformist Conscience.
+   70 to 1  -- Budget Bill (off--75 to 1 taken).
+  100 to 1  -- Ministerial Programme.
+
+                   FOR PLACES (NEXT SESSION STAKES).
+
+   2 to 1 on Asquith for the Leadership.
+  12 to 1 agst the Labouchere Peerage.
+
+                    NEW PREMIERSHIP SELLING STAKES.
+
+   12 to 1 on Gladstone Redivivus.
+  200 to 1 agst any other.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                             AS WE LIKE IT.
+
+                          (JAQUES _resumes_.)
+
+  --All the world's upon the stage,
+  And here and there you really get a player:
+  The exits rather than the entrances
+  Are regulated by the County Council;
+  And one man in a season sees a lot--
+  Seven plays a week, including _matinées_,
+  And several acts in each. And first the infant,
+  A vernal blossom of the Garrick Caste,
+  Playing the super in his bassinet,
+  And innocently causing some chagrin
+  To Mr. ECCLES. Then there's _Archibald_,
+  _New Boy_, and nearly father to the man,
+  With mourning on his face and kicks behind,
+  Returning under strong connubial stress
+  Unwillingly to school. And next the lover,
+  Sighing like ALEXANDER for fresh fields,
+  And plunging wofully to win a kiss,
+  Even to his very eyebrows. Then the soldier,
+  Armed with strange maxims and a carpet-bag,
+  Cock-Shaw in military ironies,
+  And blowing off the bubbling repartee
+  With chocolate in his mouth. And next is _Falstaff_,
+  In fair round belly with good bolsters lined,
+  Full of wide sores, and badly cut about
+  By Windsor hussies,--modern instances
+  Of the revolting woman. Sixthly, _Charley's Aunt_.
+  Now ancient as the earth, and shifting still
+  The Penley pantaloons for ladies' gear,
+  Her fine heroic waist a world too wide
+  For the slim corset, and her manly lips,
+  Tuned to the treble of a maiden's pipe,
+  Grasping a big cigar. Last scene of all,
+  The season's close and mere oblivion;
+  Away to Europe and the provinces;
+  And London left forlorn without them all,
+  _Sans-Gêne_, _Santuzza_, yea, _sans_ everything.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "A GOOD TIME COMING!"
+
+_British Farmer ("playing a game of mixed chance and skill with
+Nature")_ "I DO BELIEVE MY LUCK'S ON THE TURN!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         "A GOOD TIME COMING!"
+
+              (_And it HAS been a good time coming._)
+
+    ["The game of mixed chance and skill which the farmer plays each
+    year with Nature is still undecided; but, if the farmer wins,
+    his winnings will be large indeed."
+                              --_The "Times" on Farming Prospects._]
+
+                       _British Farmer, loq.:_--
+
+  Bless my old bones!--they're weary ones, wherefore I takes small
+        shame--
+  For the first time for many a year mine _looks_ a winning game!
+  A "bumper" harvest? Blissful thought! For long I've been fair stuck,
+  But now I really hope I see a change in my bad luck.
+  True, my opponent is a chap 'tis doosed hard to match.
+  I seed a picture once of one a playing 'gainst Old Scratch,
+  And oftentimes I feels like that, a-sticking all together,
+  Against that demon-dicer whom we know as British Weather!
+  What use of ploughs and patience, boys, or skill, and seed, and
+        sickle,
+  'Gainst frost, and rain, and blighted grain, and all that's foul and
+        fickle?
+  When the fly is on the turmuts, and the blight is on the barley,
+  And meadows show like sodden swamps, a farmer do get snarley.
+  But now the crops from hay to hops show promising of plenty,
+  A-doubling last year's average, plus a extry ten or twenty.
+  And straw is good, uncommon so, and barley, wheat and oats, Sir,
+  Make a rare show o'er whose rich glow the long-tried farmer gloats,
+        Sir!
+  Beans ain't so bad, spite o' May frosts; turnips and swedes look
+        topping;
+  Though the frost and fly the mangolds try, and the taters won't be
+        whopping.
+  Those poor unlucky taters! If there's any mischief going,
+  They cop their share, and how they'll fare this year there ain't no
+        knowing;
+  And peas is good, and hops is bad, or baddish. But, by jingo!
+  The sight o' the hay as I saw to-day is as good as a glass of stingo.
+  Pastures and meadows promise prime, well nigh the country over,
+  Though them as depend on their clover-crop will hardly be in clover.
+  But take 'em all, the big and small, the cereals, roots, and grasses,
+  There's a lump o' cheer for the farmers' hearts, and the farmers'
+        wives and lasses;
+  If only him I'm playing against--well, p'r'aps I'd best be civil,--
+  If he isn't JEMMY SQUAREFOOT though, he has the _luck_ o' the divil.
+  With his rain and storm and cold and hot, and his host of insect
+        horrors,
+  He has the pull, and our bright to-days may be spiled by black
+        to-morrers.
+  A cove like him with looks so grim, and flies, and such philistians,
+  Is no fair foe for farmer chaps as is mortial men and Christians.
+  Look at him damply glowering there with a eye like a hungry vulture!
+  With his blights at hand, and his floods to command, he's the scourge
+        of Agriculture.
+  But howsomever, although he's clever, luck's all, and mine seems
+        turning,
+  Oh! for a few more fair fine weeks, not swamped, nor yet too burning,
+  When the sun shines sweet on the slanting wheat, with the bees through
+        the clover humming,
+  And us farmer chaps with a cheery heart _will_ sing "_There's a good
+        time coming!_"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                            A MODERN MADAME.
+
+              (_According to the New School of Teachers._)
+
+She believes in nothing but herself, and never accepts her own
+personality seriously.
+
+She has aspirations after the impossible, and is herself far from
+probable; she regards her husband as an unnecessary evil, and her
+children as disturbances without compensating advantages.
+
+She writes more than she reads and seldom scribbles anything.
+
+She has no feelings, and yet has a yearning after the intense.
+
+She is the antithesis of her grandmother, and has made further
+development in generations to come quite impossible.
+
+She thinks without the thoughts of a male, and yet has lost the
+comprehension of a female.
+
+To sum up, she is hardly up to the standard of a man, and yet has sunk
+several fathoms below the level of a woman.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+MEM. AT LORD'S DURING THE ETON AND HARROW, FRIDAY, JULY 13. (_It rained
+the better part, which became the worse part, of the day._)--Not much
+use trying to do anything with any "match" in the wet.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: TO GOLFERS.
+
+SUGGESTION FOR A RAINY DAY. SPILLIKINS ON A GRAND SCALE.]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                        WHAT WE MAY EXPECT SOON.
+
+_By Our Own Wire._--Dispute broken out between local employer of
+labour--Shoemaker with two apprentices--and his hands. One apprentice
+won't work with t'other. Shoemaker locked out both.
+
+_Later News._--Dispute developing. Amalgamated Association of Trade
+Unions sent fifty thousand men with rifles into town. Also park of
+artillery. Arbitration suggested.
+
+_Special Telegram._--Federated Society of Masters occupying Market Place
+and principal streets with Gatling guns. Expresses itself willing to
+accept Arbitration in principle.
+
+_A Day After._--Conflicts to-day between opposing forces. Streets
+resemble battle-field. Authorities announce--"will shortly act with
+vigour." Enrolled ten extra policemen. Police, including extra ten,
+captured by rioters, and locked up in their own cells. Business--except
+of undertakers--at standstill.
+
+_Latest Developments._--More conflicts, deaths, outrages, incendiarism.
+Central Government telegraphs to Shoemaker to take back both apprentices
+to stop disastrous disorder. No reply. Shoemaker and both apprentices
+been killed in riots.
+
+_Close of the Struggle._--Stock of gunpowder exhausted. Both sides
+inclined to accept compromise. Board of Conciliation formed. Survivors
+of employers and employed shake hands. Town irretrievably ruined, but
+peace firmly re-established.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+WHAT! ALREADY!--"I'm afraid," said Mrs. R., "that the new Tower Bridge
+is in a bad way. I hear it said, of course I do not know with what
+truth, that it has 'bascules.' Now weren't they the insects that
+destroyed the crops one year and gave so many persons the influenza? I
+think you'll find I'm right."
+
+                                 * * *
+
+EPIGRAMMATIC DESCRIPTION, BY A BILLIARD PLAYER, OF THE SELECTION OF THE
+CHIEF MINSTREL TO BE THE RECIPIENT OF A PRIZE AT THE RECENT
+EISTEDDFOD.--"_Spot Bard._"
+
+                                 * * *
+
+ACCIDENTS IN OUR ROTTENEST ROTTEN ROW.--The sooner the cause (_i.e._
+Rotten Row itself) of the numerous complaints is _well grounded_, the
+better for the equestrians.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+NATIONAL REFLECTION (SUGGESTED BY RECENT YACHT-RACE).--It is of small
+use BRITANNIA being BRITANNIA unless she be also Vigilant.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                            LYRE AND LANCET.
+
+                         (_A Story in Scenes._)
+
+                     PART III.--THE TWO ANDROMEDAS.
+
+    SCENE III.--_Opposite a Railway Bookstall at a London Terminus._
+                      TIME--_Saturday_, 4.25 P.M.
+
+_Drysdale_ (_to his friend_, GALFRID UNDERSHELL, _whom he is "seeing
+off"_). Twenty minutes to spare; time enough to lay in any quantity of
+light literature.
+
+_Undershell (in a head voice)._ I fear the merely ephemeral does not
+appeal to me. But I should like to make a little experiment. (_To the
+Bookstall Clerk._) A--do you happen to have a copy left of CLARION
+BLAIR'S _Andromeda_?
+
+_Clerk._ Not in stock, Sir. Never 'eard of the book, but daresay I could
+get it for you. Here's a Detective Story we're sellin' like 'ot
+cakes--_The Man with the Missing Toe_--very cleverly written story, Sir.
+
+[Illustration: "Here 's a detective story we're sellin' like 'ot
+cakes."]
+
+_Und._ I merely wished to know--that was all. (_Turning with resigned
+disgust to_ DRYSDALE.) Just think of it, my dear fellow. At a bookstall
+like this one feels the pulse, as it were, of Contemporary Culture; and
+here my _Andromeda_, which no less an authority than the _Daily
+Chronicle_ hailed as the uprising of a new and splendid era in English
+Songmaking, a Poetic Renascence, my poor _Andromeda_ is trampled
+underfoot by--(_choking_)--Men with Missing Toes! What a satire on our
+so-called Progress!
+
+_Drys._ That a purblind public should prefer a Shilling Shocker for
+railway reading when for a modest half-guinea they might obtain a
+numbered volume of Coming Poetry on hand-made paper! It _does_ seem
+incredible,--but they do. Well, if they can't read _Andromeda_ on the
+journey, they can at least peruse a stinger on it in this week's
+_Saturday_. Seen it?
+
+_Und._ No. I don't vex my soul by reading criticisms on my work. I am no
+KEATS. They may howl--but they will not kill _me_. By the way, the
+_Speaker_ had a most enthusiastic notice last week.
+
+_Drys._ So you saw _that_ then? But you're right not to mind the others.
+When a fellow's contrived to hang on to the Chariot of Fame, he can't
+wonder if a few rude and envious beggars call out "Whip behind!" eh? You
+don't want to get in yet? Suppose we take a turn up to the end of the
+platform.                                                [_They do._
+
+    JAMES SPURRELL, M.R.C.V.S., _enters with his friend_, THOMAS
+    TANRAKE, _of_ HURDELL AND TANRAKE, _Job and Riding Masters,
+    Mayfair_.
+
+_Spurrell._ Yes, it's lucky for me old SPAVIN being laid up like
+this--gives me a regular little outing, do you see? going down to a
+swell place like this Wyvern Court, and being put up there for a day or
+two! I shouldn't wonder if they do you very well in the housekeeper's
+room. (_To_ Clerk.) Give me a _Pink 'Un_ and last week's _Dog Fancier's
+Guide_.
+
+_Clerk._ We've returned the unsold copies. Could give you _this_ week's;
+or there's _The Rabbit and Poultry Breeder's Journal_.
+
+_Spurr._ Oh, rabbits be blowed! (To TANRAKE.) I wanted you to see that
+notice they put in of _Andromeda_ and me, with my photo and all; it said
+she was the best bull-bitch they'd seen for many a day, and fully
+deserved her first prize.
+
+_Tanrake._ She's a rare good bitch, and no mistake. But what made you
+call her such an outlandish name?
+
+_Spurr._ Well, I _was_ going to call her _Sal_; but a chap at the
+College thought the other would look more stylish if I ever meant to
+exhibit her. _Andromeda_ was one of them Roman goddesses, you know.
+
+_Tanr._ Oh, I knew _that_ right enough. Come and have a drink before you
+start--just for luck--not that you want _that_.
+
+_Spurr._ I'm lucky enough in most things, TOM; in everything except
+love. I told you about that girl, you know--EMMA--and my being as good
+as engaged to her, and then, all of a sudden, she went off abroad and
+I've never seen or had a line from her since. Can't call _that_ luck,
+you know. Well, I won't say no to a glass of something.
+
+                            [_They disappear into the Refreshment Room._
+
+         _The_ Countess of CANTIRE _enters with her daughter_,
+                          Lady MAISIE MULL.
+
+_Lady Cantire_ (_to_ Footman). Get a compartment for us, and two
+foot-warmers, and a second-class as near ours as you can for PHILLIPSON;
+then come back here. Stay, I'd better give you PHILLIPSON'S ticket.
+(_The_ Footman _disappears in the crowd._) Now we must get something to
+read on the journey. (_To_ Clerk.) I want a book of some sort--no
+rubbish, mind; something serious and improving, and _not_ a work of
+fiction.
+
+_Clerk._ Exactly so, Ma'am. Let me see. Ah, here's _Alone with the 'Airy
+Ainoo_. How would you like _that_?
+
+_Lady Cant._ (_with decision_). I should not like it at all.
+
+_Clerk._ I quite understand. Well, I can give you _Three 'Undred Ways of
+Dressing the Cold Mutton_--useful little book for a family, redooced to
+one and ninepence.
+
+_Lady Cant._ Thank you. I think I will wait until I am reduced to one
+and ninepence.
+
+_Clerk._ Precisely. What do you say to _Seven 'Undred Side-splitters for
+Sixpence_? 'Ighly yumorous, I assure you.
+
+_Lady Cant._ Are these times to split our sides, with so many serious
+social problems pressing for solution? You are presumably not without
+intelligence; do you never reflect upon the responsibility you incur in
+assisting to circulate trivial and frivolous trash of this sort?
+
+_Clerk_ (_dubiously_). Well, I can't say as I do, particular, Ma'am. I'm
+paid to sell the books--I don't _select_ 'em.
+
+_Lady Cant._ That is _no_ excuse for you--you ought to exercise some
+discrimination on your own account, instead of pressing people to buy
+what can do them no possible good. You can give me a _Society Snippets_.
+
+_Lady Maisie._ Mamma! A penny paper that says such rude things about the
+Royal Family!
+
+_Lady Cant._ It's always instructive to know what these creatures are
+saying about one, my dear, and it's astonishing how they manage to find
+out the things they do. Ah, here's GRAVENER coming back. He's got us a
+carriage, and we'd better get in.
+
+                [_She and her daughter enter a first-class compartment_;
+                    UNDERSHELL _and_ DRYSDALE _return_.
+
+_Drys._ (_to_ UNDERSHELL). Well, I don't see now where the insolence
+comes in. These people have invited you to stay with them----
+
+_Und._ But why? Not because they appreciate my work--which they probably
+only half understand--but out of mere idle curiosity to see what manner
+of strange beast a Poet may be! And _I_ don't know this Lady
+CULVERIN--never met her in my life! What the deuce does she mean by
+sending me an invitation? Why should these smart women suppose that they
+are entitled to send for a Man of Genius, as if he was their _lackey?_
+Answer me that!
+
+_Drys._ Perhaps the delusion is encouraged by the fact that Genius
+occasionally condescends to answer the bell.
+
+_Und._ (_reddening_). Do you imagine I am going down to this place
+simply to please _them_?
+
+_Drys._ I should think it a doubtful kindness, in your present frame of
+mind; and, as you are hardly going to please yourself, wouldn't it be
+more dignified, on the whole, not to go at all?
+
+_Und._ You never _did_ understand me! Sometimes I think I was born to
+be misunderstood! But you might do me the justice to believe that
+I am not going from merely snobbish motives. May I not feel that
+such a recognition as this is a tribute less to my poor self than to
+Literature, and that, as such, I have scarcely the _right_ to decline
+it?
+
+_Drys._ Ah, if you put it in that way, I am silenced, of course.
+
+_Und._ Or what if I am going to show these Patricians that--Poet of the
+People as I am--they can neither patronise nor cajole me?
+
+_Drys._ Exactly, old chap--what if you _are_?
+
+_Und._ I don't say that I may not have another reason--a--a rather
+romantic one--but you would only sneer if I told you! I know you think
+me a poor creature whose head has been turned by an undeserved success.
+
+_Drys._ You're not going to try to pick a quarrel with an old chum, are
+you? Come, you know well enough I don't think anything of the sort. I've
+always said you had the right stuff in you, and would show it some day;
+there are even signs of it in _Andromeda_ here and there; but you'll do
+better things than that, if you'll only let some of the wind out of your
+head. I like you, old fellow, and that's just why it riles me to see you
+taking yourself so devilish seriously on the strength of a little volume
+of verse which has been "boomed" for all it's worth, and considerably
+more. You've only got your immortality on a short repairing lease at
+present, old boy!
+
+_Und._ (_with bitterness_). I am fortunate in possessing such a candid
+friend. But I mustn't keep you here any longer.
+
+_Drys._ Very well. I suppose you're going first? Consider the feelings
+of the CULVERIN footman at the other end!
+
+_Und._ (_as he fingers a first-class ticket in his pocket_). You have a
+very low view of human nature! (_Here he remarks a remarkably pretty
+face at a second-class window close by._) As it _happens_, I am
+travelling second.                                   [_He gets in._
+
+_Drys._ (_at the window_). Well, good-bye, old chap. Good luck to you at
+Wyvern, and remember--wear your livery with as good a grace as possible.
+
+_Und._ I do not intend to wear any livery whatever.
+
+     [_The owner of the pretty face regards_ UNDERSHELL _with interest._
+
+_Spurr_. (_coming out of the Refreshment Room_). What, second? with all
+my exes. paid? Not _likely_! I'm going to travel in style this journey.
+No--not a smoker; don't want to create a bad impression, you know. This
+will do for me.
+
+        [_He gets into a compartment occupied by_ Lady CANTIRE _and her
+            daughter._
+
+_Tanr._ (_at the window_). There--you're off now. Pleasant journey to
+you, old man. Hope you'll enjoy yourself at this Wyvern Court you're
+going to--and I say, don't forget to send me that notice of _Andromeda_
+when you get back!
+
+      [_The_ Countess _and_ Lady MAISIE _start slightly; the train moves
+            out of the station._
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: 'ARRY AT BISLEY.
+
+'_Arry_ (_to 'Arriet_). "OH, I SY! WHAT SEEDS THEM MUST BE TO GROW A
+LAMP-POST!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                      THE LATEST GREAT YACHT RACE.
+
+                    (_By our own Nautical Special._)
+
+DEAR SIR,--The captain went on board the gallant _Naughty Lass_ with his
+Wind Lass. A Wind Lass is short for "Winn'd Lass," _i.e._ a Lass he has
+won. I think her name is "POLL." The Captain says he is always true to
+her, and nothing will ever induce him to leave his dear Wind Lass ashore
+when he's afloat. Noble sentiment, but unpractical. The fact is (as
+whispered) the Wind Lass is jealous of the _Naughty Lass_, and won't let
+the Captain go alone. When the other Captain went on board the rival of
+the gallant _Naughty Lass_, the _Anne Nemone_, and "the crafty ones," as
+they call the sailors "in the know," were ready to bet any money on the
+_Anne Nemone_. Both cutters "cut" (hence the name) well away from each
+other at the start, and a fresh breeze coming up (the stale one had been
+got rid of) there was a lot of fore-reaching, until the Captain, who is
+an old hand at this sort of thing, sent round steward with brandy. "All
+hands for grog!" was then the order of the day, and we just managed to
+clear Muddle Point, leaving the home-marked (or "home-made," I forget
+which is the technical term, but I suppose the latter, as she was built
+on the neighbouring premises) boat well to windward. After a free reach
+in this weather down to Boot Shore--where the vessel heeled over a bit,
+but nothing to speak of, as it was soon remedied by a cobble that was
+close at hand--the _Naughty Lass_ lifted her head-sails, and away we
+went for Incog Bay, where nobody knew us, or we should have been
+received with three times three.
+
+At this moment the _Anne Nemone_, racing close to us, let out a right
+good "gybe," which was in execrable taste, I admit, but which ought not
+to have called for any retort from the captain's Wind Lass, who gave it
+her hot and strong, and threatened to haul her over the coal-scuttlers.
+Fortunately we were away again, and there was no time for opposite
+gybes. (I spell "gybes" in the old English nautical fashion, but, as I
+ascertain, it is precisely the same as "jibes.") Sailors' language is a
+bit odd; they don't mean anything, I know--it's only professional;
+still, as reporting the matter to ears polite, I scarcely like to set
+down in full _all_ I heard. At 1 P.M. all hands were piped for luncheon,
+and we had spinnakers cooked in their skins (they are a sort of bean),
+with a rare nautical dish called "Booms and Bacon." Fine! I did enjoy
+it! But then I'm an old hand at this sort of thing,--luncheon on board,
+I mean; for there's scarcely a board, be it sea board or other board,
+or, in fact, any boarding establishment, that I don't know. But "yeo ho!
+my boys! and avast!" for are we not still racing? We are!!
+
+We passed The Bottle at 2.30 P.M. What had become of the _Anne Nemone_ I
+don't know, and probably we should never have seen her again had not our
+captain, who was trying to sight the port after passing The Bottle,
+stood on the wrong tack, which ran into his boot and hurt him awfully.
+He was carried below, and we gathered round him as he turned to the
+_Naughty Lass_ and murmured--but POLLY objected that there was nothing
+to murmur about or to grumble at, and that the sooner he stumbled on
+deck the better it would be for the race. So up rose our brave captain,
+took a stiff draught of weather bilge (which is the best preventive of
+sea-sickness), and calling for his first mate, Mr. JACK YARD TOPSAIL,
+told him to "stand away," which I could quite understand, for JACK YARD
+TOPSAIL is a regular salt, full of tar, rum, 'baccy, and everything that
+can make life sweet to _him_, but not to his immediate neighbours. So
+"stand away" and not "stand by" it was, and when we got to Squeams Bay
+the sailors took a short hitch (it is necessary occasionally--but I
+cannot say more--lady-readers being present), and we went streaking away
+like a side of bacon on a fine day.
+
+"Are we winning?" asks POLLY, the Wind Lass. "_You_ look winning!" I
+reply, politely. "By how much?" she inquires, just tucking up her
+skirts, and showing a trim ankle. The Captain, with his glass to his
+eye, and looking down, answers, "The fifth of a long leg!" I never saw a
+woman so angry! "I haven't!" she exclaimed; and there would have been a
+row, and we should never have won, as we did splendidly, had not the
+"First Officer" (just as they name the supernumeraries in a play) come
+up and reminded Pretty POLLY that she wasn't the only mate the Captain
+had on board. "Where's the other?" she cried, in a fury. "Below!"
+answered the First Officer, and down went POLLY, not to re-appear again
+until all was over, and our victorious binnacle was waving proudly from
+the fore-top-gallant. At the finish we went clean into harbour, without
+a speck on our forecastle, or a stain on our character. I wire you the
+account of this great race, and am (Rule BRITANNIA!)
+                                                        Yours,
+                                        "EVERY OTHER INCH A SAILOR!"
+
+P.S.--I am informed that after I left the vessel--in fact it was next
+day--a Burgee was run up at the mast head. I suppose some sort of
+court-martial was held first, and that the Burgee (poor wretch!) was
+caught red-handed. Still, in these days, this sort of proceeding does
+sound rather tyrannical. High-masted justice, eh? Well, sea-dogs will be
+sea-dogs. I don't exactly know what a Burgee is, but I fancy he is
+something between a Buccaneer and a Bargee; a sort of river-and-sea
+pirate. But I fear it is a landsman!! Burgee, masculine (and probably
+husband) of Burgess!! If so, there _will_ be a row!
+                                           YOURS AS BEFORE THE MAST.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "A FRIEND IN NEED--"
+
+ANARCHIST. "'ELP! 'ELP! PER-LICE!!"
+
+CONSTABLE. "'DOWN WITH EVERYTHING,' INDEED! LUCKY FOR _YOU_ YOU HAVEN'T
+'DOWN'D' _ME_!!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                           A FRIEND IN NEED;
+
+                  _Or, The Lawbreaker's Last Refuge._
+
+    Sure stranger irony life never saw
+    Than Lawlessness low suppliant to the Law!
+
+                  _Guardian of Order soliloquiseth:_--
+
+  "Down with Everything!" Ah, yes!
+    That's the sort o' rot you jaw!
+  You'd be in a tidy mess
+    If you'd downed with good old Law.
+  Funniest job we have to do,
+  Is to "save" such scamps as you.
+
+  "Down with Everything!" Spout on!
+    I, who stand for Law, stand by.
+  You may want me ere you've done.
+    Somethink in that workman's eye,
+  And the clenching of his fist,
+  Ought to put you on the twist.
+
+  Think you're fetching of 'em fine
+    With your tommy-rotten patter?
+  Think you've got 'em in a line,
+    Or as near as doesn't matter?
+  Won't you feel in a rare stew
+  If they take to downing _you_?
+
+  Downing is a sort o' game
+    Two can play at _here_--thanks be!
+  Spin your lead out! Don't let shame,
+    Common sense, or courtesy,
+  Put the gag on your red rag;
+  Flourish it--like your Red Flag!
+
+  How they waggle, flag and tongue!
+    Proud o' that same bit of bunting?
+  See the glances on you flung?
+    Hear the British workman grunting?
+  He is none too fond, that chap,
+  Of rank rot and the Red Cap!
+
+  Perched upon a noodle's nob,
+    Minds me of an organ-monkey!--
+  If a workman will not _rob_,
+    You denounce him as a "flunkey."
+  Some of 'em know what that means.
+  Mind your eye! They'll give you beans!
+
+  Ah! I thought so. Gone too fur!
+    Set the British Workman booing.
+  "_Dirty dog!!!_" That riles you, Sir!
+    Better mind what you are doing!
+  Mug goes saffron now, with fear,
+  Round you glare! Yes, Law _is_ here!
+
+  Show your teeth, shark-like and yellow!
+    You won't frighten them, or me.
+  Ah! there comes the true mob-bellow!
+    That means mischief--as you see.
+  Mob, when mettled, goes a squelcher
+  For Thief, Anarchist _or_ Welsher.
+
+  "Help! Perlice!!" Oh! _that_'s your cry!
+    _I'm_ your friend, then,--at a pinch?
+  Funk first taste of Anarchy?
+    Law is better than--Judge Lynch?
+  Rummy this! For all his jaw
+    The lawbreaker flies to Law!
+
+  Good as a sensation novel
+    For to see you crouching there.
+  Can't these Red Flag heroes grovel?
+    Come, my Trojan, have a care.
+  Do not clasp Law's legs that way,
+  Like _Scum Goodman_ in the play.
+
+  Help? Oh, yes; I'll help you--out!--
+    "_Stand back there, please! Pass along!_"
+  Come, get up! _Now_ don't you doubt
+    If your "downing" dodge ain't wrong?
+  Anyhow 'tis, you'll agree,
+  Lucky for _you_--you've not downed _me_!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: WHAT OUR ARTIST HAS TO PUT UP WITH.
+
+_Madame la Baronne_ (_who WILL speak English_). "AND TELL ME, MISTRESS
+BROWN, YOUR CLEVARE 'USBAND, WHO 'AVE A SO BEAUTIFUL TALENT--IS HE YET
+OF ZE ROYAL ACADEMY?"
+
+_Our Artist's Wife_ (_who WILL speak French_). "OH NON, MADAME, HÉLAS!
+SEULEMENT, IL EST _PENDU_ CETTE ANNÉE, VOUS SAVEZ!"
+
+_Madame la Baronne_ (_relapsing into her native language_).
+"OH--MADAME--QUELLE AFFREUSE NOUVELLE!"]
+
+                         A MIDSUMMER DAY-DREAM.
+
+    [_The Jackson-Harmsworth Expedition has started._]
+
+  PUNCH sleeps. The cheerful Sage has heard
+    That JACKSON is about to start.
+  His sympathies are warmly stirred,
+    He hath the _Windward's_ weal at heart.
+  He dreams: That block of dinner ice
+    Stirs arctic fancies in his breast.
+  He travels Pole-ward in a trice;
+    He joins the JACKSON-HARMSWORTH quest.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+  "All precious things, discovered late
+    To those that seek them issue forth."--
+  To find her may be JACKSON'S fate,
+    That Sleeping Beauty of the North!
+  She lieth in her icy cave
+    As still as sleep, as white as death.
+  Her look might stagger the most brave,
+    And make the stoutest hold his breath.
+
+  "The bodies and the bones of those
+    That strove in other days to pass,"
+  Are scattered o'er the spreading snows,
+    Are bleached about that sea of glass.
+  He gazes on the silent dead:
+    "They perished in their daring deeds."
+  The proverb flashes through his head,
+    "The many fail: the one succeeds."
+
+                                 * * *
+
+  _Punch_ wakes: lo! it is but a dream--
+    A vision of the Frozen Sea;
+  Yet may be it may hold a gleam
+    Of prophecy. So mote it be!
+  To JACKSON and to HARMSWORTH too
+    He brims a well-earnt bumper. "Skoal!"
+  Here's health to them and their brave crew!
+    And safe return from well-won goal!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                      THE MINX.--A POEM IN PROSE.
+
+                             [Illustration]
+
+_Poet._ It's so good of you to see me. I merely wished to ask one or two
+questions as to your career. You must have led a most interesting life.
+
+_Sphinx._ You are very inquisitive and extremely indiscreet, and I have
+always carefully avoided being interviewed. However, go on.
+
+_Poet._ I believe you can read hieroglyphs?
+
+_Sphinx._ Oh yes; I _can_, fluently, But I never do. I assure you they
+are not in the least amusing.
+
+_Poet._ No doubt you have talked with hippogriffs and basilisks?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_modestly_). I certainly _was_ in rather a smart set at one
+time. As they say, I have "known better days."
+
+_Poet._ Did you ever have any conversation with THOTH?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_loftily_). Oh, dear no! (_Mimicking._) Thoth he wath not
+conthidered quite a nice perthon. I would not allow him to be introduced
+to me.
+
+_Poet._ You were very particular?
+
+_Sphinx._ One has to be careful. The world is so censorious.
+
+_Poet._ I wonder, would you give me the pleasure of singing to me?
+"_Adrian's Gilded Barge_," for instance?
+
+_Sphinx._ You must really excuse me. I am not in good voice. By the way,
+the "Gilded Barge," as you call it, was merely a shabby sort of punt. It
+would have had no effect whatever at the Henley Regatta.
+
+_Poet._ Dear me! Is it true you played golf among the Pyramids?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_emphatically_). Perfectly untrue. You see what absurd reports
+get about!
+
+_Poet_ (_softly_). They do. What was that story about the Tyrian?
+
+_Sphinx._ Merely gossip. There was nothing in it, I assure you.
+
+_Poet._ And APIS?
+
+_Sphinx._ Oh, he sent me some flowers, and there were paragraphs about
+it--in hieroglyphs--in the society papers. That was all. But they were
+contradicted.
+
+_Poet._ You knew AMMON very well, I believe?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_frankly_). AMMON and I _were_ great pals. I used to see
+a good deal of him. He came in to tea very often--he was _quite_
+interesting. But I have not seen him for a long time. He had one
+fault--he _would_ smoke in the drawing-room. And though I hope I am not
+too conventional, I really could not allow _that_.
+
+_Poet._ How pleased they would all be to see you again! Why do you not
+go over to Egypt for the winter?
+
+_Sphinx._ The hotels at Cairo are so dreadfully expensive.
+
+_Poet._ Is it true you went tunny-fishing with ANTONY?
+
+_Sphinx._ One must draw the line somewhere! CLEOPATRA was so cross. She
+was horribly jealous, and not nearly so handsome as you might suppose,
+though she _was_ photographed as a "type of Egyptian Beauty!"
+
+_Poet._ I must thank you very much for the courteous way in which you
+have replied to my questions. And now will you forgive me if I make an
+observation? In my opinion you are not a Sphinx at all.
+
+_Sphinx_ (_indignantly_). What am I, then?
+
+_Poet._ A Minx.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                        THE LAY OF THE EXPLORER.
+
+  I USED to think that if a man
+    In any character could score a
+  Distinctly leonine success,
+    'Twould be as a returned explorer.
+
+  So, when by sixteen tigers tree'd,
+    Or when mad elephants were charging,
+  I joyed to say--"On this, some day,
+    My countrymen will be enlarging."
+
+  And when mosquitoes buzzed and bit
+    (For 'tis their pleasing nature to),
+  Or fevers floored me, still this dream
+    Helped me to suffer and to do.
+
+  I _have_ returned! Whole dusky tribes
+    I've wiped right out--such labour sweet is!--
+  And with innumerable chiefs
+    Arranged unconscionable treaties.
+
+  What's the result? I have become
+    A butt for each humanitarian,
+  Who call my exploits in the chase
+    The work of a "confessed barbarian."
+
+  And, worst of all, my rival, JONES,
+    Who'd any trick that's low and mean dare,
+  Cries--"Equatorial jungles! Pish!
+    I don't believe he's ever been there!"
+
+  So now I just "explore" Herne Bay,
+    With trippers, niggers, nurses, babies:
+  I've tried for fame. I 've gained it, too:
+    I share it with the vanished JABEZ!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+NOTE AND QUERY.--At Aldershot the QUEEN expressed herself much pleased
+with the "tattoo" all round. "IGNORAMUS" writes to inquire "if
+'tattoo-ing' is done in Indian ink or with gunpowder?"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                           RULE, "BRITANNIA."
+
+                       (_New Yachtical Version._)
+
+                H.R.H. THE P----E OF W----S _sings_:--
+
+  When _Vigilant_, at GOULD'S command,
+    Came over here to sweep the main,
+  This was the lay that thrilled the land,
+    And Yankee Doodle loved the strain--
+      Lick _Britannia!_ the fleet _Britannia_ lick!
+      And JOHNNY BULL may cut his stick.
+
+  But _Vigilant_, less fast than thee,
+    Must in her turn before thee fall,
+  _Britannia_, who hast kept the sea,
+    The dread and envy of them all.
+      Win, _Britannia_! _Britannia_ rules the waves!
+      (Though by the narrowest of shaves.)
+
+  Six races in succession show
+    The Yankee yacht has met her match;
+  Though she was hailed, not long ago,
+    The swiftest clipper of the batch.
+      Rule, _Britannia_! _Britannia_ rule the waves!
+      The most appropriate of staves!
+
+  I'm sorry poor DUNRAVEN'S crack
+    So prematurely has gone down;
+  But mine has kept the winning tack,
+    And well upheld the isle's renown.
+      Rule, _Britannia_! &c.
+
+  When JONATHAN thy match hath found,
+    He'll to our coasts again repair.
+  We'll have another friendly round,
+    With manly hearts and all things fair.
+      Rule, _Britannia_! _Britannia_ rules the waves,
+      Six sequent wins BULL'S honour saves!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                        TO ALTHEA IN THE STALLS.
+
+  From the Orchestra as I was staring
+    So wearily down at the hall,
+  The programme I held hardly caring
+    To turn, I was tired of it all!
+  For I knew 'twas a futile endeavour
+    With music my trouble to drown,
+  And I'd made up my mind that you never,
+    Ah, never, would come back to town!
+
+  When suddenly, there I beheld you
+    Yourself--ah, the joyous amaze!
+  I wonder what instinct impelled you
+    Your dreamy dark eyes to upraise,
+  That for one happy second's communing
+    Met mine that had waited so long--
+  And the wail of the violins tuning
+    It turned to a jubilant song!
+
+  'Mid organ-chords sombre and mellow
+    There breaks out a ripple of glee,
+  And the voice of the violoncello,
+    ALTHEA, is pleading for me!
+  The music is beating and surging
+    With joy no _adagio_ can drown,
+  In ecstasy all things are merging--
+    Because you have come back to town!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+THE COREAN DIFFICULTY.--"_Japan declines to withdraw._"--(_Telegram,
+Thursday, July 12_).--"Ah," observed Miss QUOTER, who is ever ready,
+"that reminds me of BYRON'S line in _Mazeppa_, quite applicable to the
+present situation--
+
+                  'Again he urges on his mild Corea.'"
+
+                                 * * *
+
+NEW WORK (_by the Chief Druid Minstrel at the Eisteddfod, dedicated to
+their Royal Highnesses_).--"_How to be Harpy in Wales._"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: PREHISTORIC PEEPS.
+
+A CRICKET MATCH. "HOWS THAT, UMPIRE?"!!]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
+
+                 EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
+
+_House of Lords, Monday, July 9._--PLAYFAIR'S leonine countenance
+habitually cheerful. But never saw him looking so pleased as when we
+walked through St. Stephen's Chapel on way to Lords just now. "From
+point of view of old House of Commons man the Lords are, I admit, a
+little unresponsive," my Lord said. "The chamber is, acoustically and
+otherwise, the sepulchre of speech. You remember the little lecture on
+margarine I delivered years ago in the Commons? Bless me, how delighted
+the House was to see the table covered with small white pots containing
+samples, with a bottle of best Dorset margarine hooked on to the Mace
+for greater convenience of reference. Often I've enchained an audience
+with my object lessons. Up to present time that monologue on margarine
+ranks as most successful. But I'll beat the record to-night. See that?"
+(Here he slapped a something bulging out from his trouser pocket.)
+"Guess what that is? Thought you couldn't. It's cultch. Know what cultch
+is?"
+
+"Not unless it's the beginning of knowledge," I said, drawing a bow, so
+to speak, at a venture. "Positive cultch, comparative culture, eh?"
+
+PLAYFAIR stared at me vacantly. "Cultch----" he said; "but no, that's
+part of the lecture. Come along to the Lords and hear it."
+
+[Illustration: Suggested Statues for the Vacant Niches in the Inner
+Lobby.
+
+No. I.--"The Majesty of the Law!"]
+
+House not in condition particularly inspiring for lecturer. Benches
+mostly empty; STANLEY of Alderley completed depletion by rambling
+speech of half an hour's duration, modestly described in Orders as "a
+question." Wanted to know how many lighthouses in England and Wales paid
+Income Tax; how many were behindhand with their rates; were Death Duties
+applicable to some of them; if so, which; and whether the tenants
+compounded for rates or otherwise. These inquiries not without interest,
+but STANLEY not chiefly remarkable for concentration of thought or
+conciseness of phrase.
+
+At length PLAYFAIR'S turn came. A flutter of interest amongst Peers as
+he was observed tugging at something in trousers pocket; hauled out what
+looked like empty oyster shell.
+
+"Ah!" said HERSCHELL, smiling, "I see the lawyers have been before us."
+
+"In moving the Second Reading of the Sea Fisheries (Shell Fish) Bill, I
+propose, if I may be permitted, to give your Lordships an object lesson.
+This particular shell," PLAYFAIR continued, holding it up between finger
+and thumb, "is covered all over with microscopic oysters. Oysters in all
+stages of growth are seen there."
+
+"Well," said the MARQUIS OF CARABAS, "if one had a twenty billion
+magnifying glass of the kind associated with the memory of _Sam Weller_,
+perhaps we might see the oysters. All I can say is, I don't see any
+worth three and sixpence a dozen. PLAYFAIR's no business to bring these
+things down here, filling House with smell of stale seaweed when his
+oysters are no bigger than a pin's head."
+
+The MARQUIS strode angrily forth. Others followed. Lecture cut short.
+
+_Business done._--Sea Fisheries (Shell Fish) Bill read a second time,
+amid unexpectedly depressing circumstances.
+
+_House of Commons, Tuesday._--SQUIRE OF MALWOOD back after a week's
+rustication. Brings glowing news of the hay crop; looks, indeed, as if
+he had been helping to make it; ruddier than a cherry; indescribable but
+unmistakable country air about him as he sits on Treasury Bench with
+folded arms, listening to the monotonous ripple of talk renewed on
+Budget Bill.
+
+                 "Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis,"
+
+says PRINCE ARTHUR, looking across at the rustic Squire.
+
+                                          "_At ille_
+              Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis ævum,"
+
+added JOKIM, with approving glance at bench behind, where the Busy B.'s
+swarm after week's rest, humming round amendments with increased vigour.
+
+Almost imperceptible movement of river goes forward. The blameless
+BARTLEY on his feet, entrancing House with particulars of a silver
+cup, prized heirloom in the humble household in Victoria Street. It
+seems that one of BARTLEY'S ancestors--he who came over with the
+Conqueror--had brought with him certain blades of buckwheat, which he
+industriously planted out on the site, then a meadow, on which the Army
+and Navy Stores now flourish. The buckwheat grew apace. One day King
+STEPHEN, passing by on a palfrey, noted the waving green expanse.
+Enquiring to whom the State was indebted for this fair prospect, a
+courtier informed him that it was "the ancestor of GEORGE CHRISTOPHER
+TROUT BARTLEY, Member for North Islington in the thirteenth Parliament
+of Queen VICTORIA."
+
+"By our sooth," said the King, "he shall have a silver cup."
+
+One was forthwith requisitioned from the nearest silversmith's, and this
+it is which now adorns the sideboard in the best parlour at St.
+Margaret's House, Victoria Street, S.W.
+
+These interesting reminiscences of family history GEORGE CHRISTOPHER
+TROUT recited to a charmed House in support of proposed new Clause,
+moved by DICK WEBSTER, exempting from estate duty heirlooms under
+settlement. SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, usually impervious to argument in favour
+of alterations in his prized Budget, evidently moved. If BARTLEY had
+only thought of bringing the cup with him, had at this moment produced
+it from under his cloak, and flashed it forth on gaze of House, the
+Clause would have been added, and the cup, Estate-duty free, would have
+passed on through the ages, telling its simple story to successive
+strata of the BARTLEY family. As it was, SQUIRE stood firm, and
+WEBSTER'S Clause negatived.
+
+"Couldn't do it, my dear WEBSTER," the SQUIRE found opportunity of
+saying, as he met disappointed legislator behind SPEAKER'S Chair. "Of
+course I said the polite thing about BARTLEY'S Cup. But I wasn't
+thinking of that. I know very well what you had in mind in bringing in
+this Clause. The heirlooms you thought of are those cups and medals you
+won for Cambridge when, twenty-nine years ago, you met the Oxford
+Champion in the two-mile race, and in the one-mile spin. If we could do
+something in the Schedules specially exempting them I should be glad.
+Think it over, and see me later."
+
+WEBSTER wrung the SQUIRE'S hand, and passed on, saying nothing. There
+are moments when speech is superfluous. 'Tis true, they don't often
+occur in House of Commons; but here was one. Let us cherish its memory.
+
+_Business done._--Considering and negativing new Clauses to Budget Bill.
+
+_Thursday._--All the cheerfulness of to-day has brightened
+Committee-room, where question of issue of Writ, following on
+application for Chiltern Hundreds, is considered. The SQUIRE under
+examination for nearly two hours and a-half. Difficult to say which the
+more enjoyed it, the witness or the Committee.
+
+[Illustration: An Interesting Specimen. The Coleridge Caterpillar!]
+
+"What is the state of a Peer pending issue of Writ of Summons?" asked
+the SQUIRE, suddenly taking to interrogate the Committee assembled to
+question him. "Is he a caterpillar passing through a larva, spinning a
+cocoon of silk until he reaches a condition where they toil not neither
+do they spin?" (Here, quite by accident, his glance fell upon JOSEPH,
+supposed to be sitting upon him in judicial capacity.) "There is," he
+continued (and here he glanced at PRINCE ARTHUR, smiling at the sly hit
+dealt at his dear friend JOE) "an opening for philosophic doubt as to
+the precise condition of this impounded Peer in his intermediary state."
+
+The House still going about with millstone of Budget Bill round its
+neck, BYRNE, BUTCHER, BEACH, BOWLES and BARTLEY tugging at it,
+KENYON-SLANEY now and then uttering obvious truths with air of
+supernatural wisdom. GRAND YOUNG GARDNER (address Board of Agriculture,
+Whitehall Place, S.W.) hands me scrap of paper; says he found it near
+SQUIRE'S seat on Treasury Bench; but it doesn't look like his writing:
+
+  "Two modes there are, O BYRNE and BUTCHER,
+    Our gratitude to earn:
+  If BYRNE would only burn up BUTCHER,
+    Or BUTCHER butcher BYRNE;
+  Or both combine--yes, bless their souls--
+  To burn and butcher TOMMY BOWLES!"
+
+_Business done._--Very little.
+
+_Friday._--TEMPLE going about much as if on Tuesday night he had got out
+of his cab in the ordinary fashion. He didn't, you know. Taken out in
+sections through the upper window by couple of stalwart policemen. This
+owing to circumstance that Irish cab-driver having, after fashion of his
+country, saved a trot for the avenue, dashed up against kerbstone and
+overturned cab.
+
+"Gave me a start, of course," TEMPLE said, as we brushed him down. "Not
+a convenient way of getting out of your hansom. What I was afraid of was
+being disfigured. Am not a vain man, but don't mind telling you, TOBY, a
+scratch or a scar on one's face would have been exceedingly annoying.
+But I'm all right, as you see. Hope it isn't a portent. A small thing
+that under this Government I should be overturned. What I fear is, that
+unless we keep our eye on them they'll overturn the Empire."
+
+_Business done._--Not yet done with Budget.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+FASHIONABLE INFORMATION AND SUGGESTION.--The Duke and Duchess of BEDFORD
+having returned from Thorney will go to Beds;--a delightful change, that
+is unless they are rose-beds, which are proverbially thorny. And "the
+Duchess of ROXBURGHE goes to Floors." No Beds here; only Floors. Why not
+combine the two establishments and get them both under one roof?
+
+                                 * * *
+
+"_NIHIL tetiqit quod non ornavit_," as the prizefighter said of his
+right fist, after blacking his opponent's eye and breaking the bridge of
+his nose.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+"The Knights of Labour" seem to be banded together against "Days of
+Work."
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: CRUEL!
+
+_Lucullus Brown_ (_on hospitable purpose intent_). "ARE YOU DINING
+ANYWHERE TO-MORROW NIGHT?"
+
+_Jones_ (_not liking to absolutely "give himself away"_). "LET ME
+SEE"--(_considers_)--"NO; I'M NOT DINING ANYWHERE TO-MORROW."
+
+_Lucullus Brown_ (_seeing through the artifice_). "UM! POOR CHAP! HOW
+HUNGRY YOU WILL BE!"
+
+                                           ["_Exeunt,--severally._"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         THE ROYAL WELSH BARD.
+
+    [The Prince of WALES was initiated as a Bard the other day at
+    the Carnarvon Eisteddfod.]
+
+  The Minstrel-Prince to his Wales has gone,
+    In the ranks of the Bards you'll find him;
+  His bardic cloak he has girded on,
+    And his tame harp slung behind him.
+  "Land of Song!" said the Royal Bard,
+    "You remarkably rum-spelt land, you,
+  One Prince at least shall try very hard
+      To pronounce you, and understand you."
+
+  The Prince tried hard, but the songs he heard
+    Very soon brought his proud soul under,
+  With twenty consonants packed in a word,
+    And no vowels to keep them asunder!
+  So he said to the Druid, "A word with you,
+    Your jaw must be hard as nails, Sir;
+  Your songs may do for the bold Cymru,
+    They've done for the Prince of WALES, Sir!"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                              GOOD WISHES.
+
+    (_To Mr. and Mrs. J. M. Barrie on their Marriage, July 9, 1894._)
+
+  "When authors venture on a play,
+    They have been known to find them undone,
+  But Mr. BARRIE found the way
+    To great success in _Walker, London_.
+  A ready TOOLE he'd close at hand,
+    And those who know her merry glance'll
+  Not find it hard to understand
+    How much was due to MARY ANSELL.
+
+  Her acting in the House-boat Scene
+    Led Mr. BARRIE to discover
+  He'd lost his heart (although he'd _been_
+    Of Lady NICOTINE a lover).
+  And those who felt sweet NANNY'S charm,
+    Or who in Thrums delight to tarry,
+  Long happy life, quite free from harm,
+    Will wish this new-formed firm of BARRIE.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber Notes:
+
+Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_.
+
+Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS.
+
+Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of
+the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.
+
+The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up
+paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate. Thus
+the page number of the illustration might not match the page number in
+the List of Illustrations, and the order of illustrations may not be the
+same in the List of Illustrations and in the book.
+
+Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected
+unless otherwise noted.
+
+On page 25, "o" was changed to "to".
+
+On page 25, "Isi" was changed to "Is it".
+
+On page 31, a quotation mark was added before "'DOWN WITH".
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume
+107, July 21st 1894, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+***** This file should be named 39770-8.txt or 39770-8.zip *****
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+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" />
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, June 21, 1894.</title>
+
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+
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107,
+July 21st 1894, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107, July 21st 1894
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: May 23, 2012 [EBook #39770]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer,
+Ernest Schaal and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<h1>PUNCH,<br />
+OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1>
+
+<h2>Vol. 107.</h2>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<h2>JUNE 21, 1894.</h2>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page025" id="page025"></a>[pg&nbsp;025]</span></p>
+
+<h2>A RIVERSIDE LAMENT.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>In my garden, where the rose</p>
+<p>By the hundred gaily blows,</p>
+<p>And the river freshly flows</p>
+<p class="i4">Close to me,</p>
+<p>I can spend the summer day</p>
+<p>In a quite idyllic way;</p>
+<p>Simply charming, you would say,</p>
+<p class="i4">Could you see.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>I am far from stuffy town,</p>
+<p>Where the soots meander down,</p>
+<p>And the air seems&mdash;being brown&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i4">Close to me.</p>
+<p>I am far from rushing train;</p>
+<p><i>Bradshaw</i> does not bore my brain,</p>
+<p>Nor, comparatively plain,</p>
+<p class="i4"><i>A B C</i>.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>To my punt I can repair,</p>
+<p>If the weather&#39;s fairly fair,</p>
+<p>But one grievance I have there;</p>
+<p class="i4">Close to me,</p>
+<p>As I sit and idly dream,</p>
+<p>Clammy corpses ever seem</p>
+<p>Floating down the placid stream</p>
+<p class="i4">To the sea.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Though the boats that crowd the lock&mdash;</p>
+<p>Such an animated block!&mdash;</p>
+<p>Bring gay damsels, quite a flock,</p>
+<p class="i4">Close to me,</p>
+<p>Yet I heed not tasty togs,</p>
+<p>When, as motionless as logs,</p>
+<p>Float defunct and dismal dogs</p>
+<p class="i4">There <i>aussi</i>.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>As in Egypt at a feast,</p>
+<p>With each party comes at least</p>
+<p>One sad corpse, departed beast,</p>
+<p class="i4">Close to me;</p>
+<p>Till a Canon might go off,</p>
+<p>Till a Dean might swear or scoff,</p>
+<p>Or a Bishop&mdash;tip-top toff</p>
+<p class="i4">In a see.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Floating to me from above,</p>
+<p>If it stick, with gentle shove,</p>
+<p>To my neighbour, whom I love,</p>
+<p class="i4">Close to me,</p>
+<p>I send on each gruesome guest.</p>
+<p>Should I drag it out to rest</p>
+<p>In my garden? No, I&#39;m blest!</p>
+<p class="i4"><i>Non, merci!</i></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;">
+<a href="images/025.png"><img width="100%" src="images/025.png" alt="" /></a>
+<h3>THE &#39;ARDEN-ING PROCESS.</h3>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Orlando.</i> &quot;<span class="smcap">Tired, Rosalind?</span>&quot; <i>Rosalind.</i> &quot;<span class="smcap">Pneumatically.</span>&quot;</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;For a modest dish of
+camp-pie, suited to barracks
+and youth militant, commend
+me,&quot; quoth one of the Baron&#39;s
+Baronites, &quot;to <i>Only a
+Drummer-Boy</i>, a maiden
+effort, and unpretentious, like
+its author, who calls himself
+<span class="smcap">Arthur Amyand</span>, but is
+really Captain <span class="smcap">Arthur
+Drummer Haggard</span>. He has
+the rare advantage, missed by
+most people who write soldier
+novels, of knowing what he is
+talking about. If there are
+faults &#39;to pardon in the drawing&#39;s
+lines,&#39; they are faults of
+technique and not of anatomy.&quot;
+&quot;The Court is with you,&quot;
+quoth the <span class="smcap">Baron de B.-W.</span></p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Hotel Note.</span>&mdash;The <i>chef</i> at
+every Gordon Hotel ought to
+be a &quot;<i>Gordon Bleu</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE VOLUNTEER&#39;S VADE MECUM.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>Bisley Edition.</i>)</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Question.</i> What is the ambition of every
+rifleman?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Answer.</i> To become an expert marksman.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Q.</i> How is this to be done?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A.</i> By practice at the regimental butts
+(where such accommodation exists), and appearing
+at Bisley.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Q.</i> Is the new site of the National Rifle
+Association better than the last?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A.</i> Certainly, for those who come to Bisley
+intend to shoot.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Q.</i> But did any one turn up at Wimbledon
+for any purpose other than marksmanship?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A.</i> Yes, for many of those who occupied the
+tents used their <i>marquees</i> merely as a suitable
+resting-place for light refreshments.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Q.</i> Is there anything of that kind at Bisley?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A.</i> Not much, as the nearest place of interest
+is a crematorium, and the most beautiful
+grounds in the neighbourhood belong to a
+cemetery.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Q.</i> Then the business of Bisley is shooting?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A.</i> Distinctly. Without the rifle, the place
+would be as melancholy as its companion
+spot, Woking.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Q.</i> In this place of useful work, what is
+the first object of the marksman?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A.</i> To score heavily, if possible; but, at
+any rate, to score.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Q.</i> Is it necessary to appear in uniform?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A.</i> That depends upon the regulations
+commanding the prize competitions.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Q.</i> What is uniform?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A.</i> As much or as little of the dress of a
+corps that a judge will order a marksman to
+adopt.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Q.</i> If some marksmen were paraded with
+their own corps, how would they look?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A.</i> They would appear to be a sorry sight.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Q.</i> Why would they appear to be a sorry
+sight?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A.</i> Because over a tunic would appear a
+straw hat, and under a pouch-belt fancy
+tweed trousers.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Q.</i> But surely if the Volunteers are anxious
+to improve themselves they will practise
+&quot;smartness&quot;?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A.</i> But they do not want to promote smartness;
+they want to win cups, or the value of
+cups.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Q.</i> What is the greatest reward that a
+marksman can obtain?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A.</i> Some hundreds of pounds.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Q.</i> And the smallest?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A.</i> A dozen of somebody&#39;s champagne, or
+a box of someone else&#39;s soap.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Q.</i> Under all the circumstances of the case,
+what would be an appropriate rule for Bisley?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A.</i> Look after the cup-winning, and everything
+else will take care of itself.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>LATEST PARLIAMENTARY BETTING.</h2>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">General Election Stakes.</span></p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i2">2 to 1 on Rosebery and Ladas (coupled).</p>
+<p> 25 to 1 agst Harcourt&#39;s Resignation.</p>
+<p> 50 to 1  &mdash; Nonconformist Conscience.</p>
+<p> 70 to 1  &mdash; Budget Bill (off&mdash;75 to 1 taken).</p>
+<p>100 to 1  &mdash; Ministerial Programme.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">For Places (Next Session Stakes).</span></p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p> 2 to 1 on Asquith for the Leadership.</p>
+<p>12 to 1 agst the Labouchere Peerage.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">New Premiership Selling Stakes.</span></p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p> 12 to 1 on Gladstone Redivivus.</p>
+<p>200 to 1 agst any other.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>AS WE LIKE IT.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(<span class="smcap">Jaques</span> <i>resumes</i>.)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&mdash;All the world&#39;s upon the stage,</p>
+<p>And here and there you really get a player:</p>
+<p>The exits rather than the entrances</p>
+<p>Are regulated by the County Council;</p>
+<p>And one man in a season sees a lot&mdash;</p>
+<p>Seven plays a week, including <i>matinées</i>,</p>
+<p>And several acts in each. And first the infant,</p>
+<p>A vernal blossom of the Garrick Caste,</p>
+<p>Playing the super in his bassinet,</p>
+<p>And innocently causing some chagrin</p>
+<p>To Mr. <span class="smcap">Eccles</span>. Then there&#39;s <i>Archibald</i>,</p>
+<p><i>New Boy</i>, and nearly father to the man,</p>
+<p>With mourning on his face and kicks behind,</p>
+<p>Returning under strong connubial stress</p>
+<p>Unwillingly to school. And next the lover,</p>
+<p>Sighing like <span class="smcap">Alexander</span> for fresh fields,</p>
+<p>And plunging wofully to win a kiss,</p>
+<p>Even to his very eyebrows. Then the soldier,</p>
+<p>Armed with strange maxims and a carpet-bag,</p>
+<p>Cock-Shaw in military ironies,</p>
+<p>And blowing off the bubbling repartee</p>
+<p>With chocolate in his mouth. And next is <i>Falstaff</i>,</p>
+<p>In fair round belly with good bolsters lined,</p>
+<p>Full of wide sores, and badly cut about</p>
+<p>By Windsor hussies,&mdash;modern instances</p>
+<p>Of the revolting woman. Sixthly, <i>Charley&#39;s Aunt</i>.</p>
+<p>Now ancient as the earth, and shifting still</p>
+<p>The Penley pantaloons for ladies&#39; gear,</p>
+<p>Her fine heroic waist a world too wide</p>
+<p>For the slim corset, and her manly lips,</p>
+<p>Tuned to the treble of a maiden&#39;s pipe,</p>
+<p>Grasping a big cigar. Last scene of all,</p>
+<p>The season&#39;s close and mere oblivion;</p>
+<p>Away to Europe and the provinces;</p>
+<p>And London left forlorn without them all,</p>
+<p><i>Sans-Gêne</i>, <i>Santuzza</i>, yea, <i>sans</i> everything.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page026" id="page026"></a>[pg&nbsp;026]</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;">
+<img width="100%" src="images/026.png" alt="" />
+<h3>&quot;A GOOD TIME COMING!&quot;</h3>
+
+<p class="center"><i>British Farmer (&quot;playing a game of mixed chance and skill with Nature&quot;)</i> &quot;<span class="smcap">I do believe my Luck&#39;s on the turn!</span>&quot;</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page027" id="page027"></a>[pg&nbsp;027]</span></p>
+
+<h2>&quot;A GOOD TIME COMING!&quot;</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>And it <span class="smcap">HAS</span> been a good time coming.</i>)</p>
+
+<blockquote class="note">
+[&quot;The game of mixed chance and skill which the farmer plays each
+year with Nature is still undecided; but, if the farmer wins, his winnings
+will be large indeed.&quot;&mdash;<i>The &quot;Times&quot; on Farming Prospects.</i>]
+</blockquote>
+
+<p class="center"><i>British Farmer, loq.:</i>&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Bless my old bones!&mdash;they&#39;re weary ones, wherefore I takes small shame&mdash;</p>
+<p>For the first time for many a year mine <i>looks</i> a winning game!</p>
+<p>A &quot;bumper&quot; harvest? Blissful thought! For long I&#39;ve been fair stuck,</p>
+<p>But now I really hope I see a change in my bad luck.</p>
+<p>True, my opponent is a chap &#39;tis doosed hard to match.</p>
+<p>I seed a picture once of one a playing &#39;gainst Old Scratch,</p>
+<p>And oftentimes I feels like that, a-sticking all together,</p>
+<p>Against that demon-dicer whom we know as British Weather!</p>
+<p>What use of ploughs and patience, boys, or skill, and seed, and sickle,</p>
+<p>&#39;Gainst frost, and rain, and blighted grain, and all that&#39;s foul and fickle?</p>
+<p>When the fly is on the turmuts, and the blight is on the barley,</p>
+<p>And meadows show like sodden swamps, a farmer do get snarley.</p>
+<p>But now the crops from hay to hops show promising of plenty,</p>
+<p>A-doubling last year&#39;s average, plus a extry ten or twenty.</p>
+<p>And straw is good, uncommon so, and barley, wheat and oats, Sir,</p>
+<p>Make a rare show o&#39;er whose rich glow the long-tried farmer gloats, Sir!</p>
+<p>Beans ain&#39;t so bad, spite o&#39; May frosts; turnips and swedes look topping;</p>
+<p>Though the frost and fly the mangolds try, and the taters won&#39;t be whopping.</p>
+<p>Those poor unlucky taters! If there&#39;s any mischief going,</p>
+<p>They cop their share, and how they&#39;ll fare this year there ain&#39;t no knowing;</p>
+<p>And peas is good, and hops is bad, or baddish. But, by jingo!</p>
+<p>The sight o&#39; the hay as I saw to-day is as good as a glass of stingo.</p>
+<p>Pastures and meadows promise prime, well nigh the country over,</p>
+<p>Though them as depend on their clover-crop will hardly be in clover.</p>
+<p>But take &#39;em all, the big and small, the cereals, roots, and grasses,</p>
+<p>There&#39;s a lump o&#39; cheer for the farmers&#39; hearts, and the farmers&#39; wives and lasses;</p>
+<p>If only him I&#39;m playing against&mdash;well, p&#39;r&#39;aps I&#39;d best be civil,&mdash;</p>
+<p>If he isn&#39;t <span class="smcap">Jemmy Squarefoot</span> though, he has the <i>luck</i> o&#39; the divil.</p>
+<p>With his rain and storm and cold and hot, and his host of insect horrors,</p>
+<p>He has the pull, and our bright to-days may be spiled by black to-morrers.</p>
+<p>A cove like him with looks so grim, and flies, and such philistians,</p>
+<p>Is no fair foe for farmer chaps as is mortial men and Christians.</p>
+<p>Look at him damply glowering there with a eye like a hungry vulture!</p>
+<p>With his blights at hand, and his floods to command, he&#39;s the scourge of Agriculture.</p>
+<p>But howsomever, although he&#39;s clever, luck&#39;s all, and mine seems turning,</p>
+<p>Oh! for a few more fair fine weeks, not swamped, nor yet too burning,</p>
+<p>When the sun shines sweet on the slanting wheat, with the bees through the clover humming,</p>
+<p>And us farmer chaps with a cheery heart <i>will</i> sing &quot;<i>There&#39;s a good time coming!</i>&quot;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>A MODERN MADAME.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>According to the New School of Teachers.</i>)</p>
+
+<p class="indent">She believes in nothing but herself, and never accepts her own
+personality seriously.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">She has aspirations after the impossible, and is herself far from
+probable; she regards her husband as an unnecessary evil, and her
+children as disturbances without compensating advantages.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">She writes more than she reads and seldom scribbles anything.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">She has no feelings, and yet has a yearning after the intense.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">She is the antithesis of her grandmother, and has made further
+development in generations to come quite impossible.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">She thinks without the thoughts of a male, and yet has lost the
+comprehension of a female.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">To sum up, she is hardly up to the standard of a man, and yet has
+sunk several fathoms below the level of a woman.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Mem. at Lord&#39;s during the Eton and Harrow, Friday,
+July 13.</span> (<i>It rained the better part, which became the worse part,
+of the day.</i>)&mdash;Not much use trying to do anything with any &quot;match&quot;
+in the wet.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;">
+<a href="images/027.png"><img width="100%" src="images/027.png" alt="" /></a> <h3>TO GOLFERS.</h3>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Suggestion for a Rainy Day. Spillikins on a Grand Scale.</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>WHAT WE MAY EXPECT SOON.</h2>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>By Our Own Wire.</i>&mdash;Dispute broken out between local employer
+of labour&mdash;Shoemaker with two apprentices&mdash;and his hands. One
+apprentice won&#39;t work with t&#39;other. Shoemaker locked out both.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Later News.</i>&mdash;Dispute developing. Amalgamated Association of
+Trade Unions sent fifty thousand men with rifles into town. Also
+park of artillery. Arbitration suggested.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Special Telegram.</i>&mdash;Federated Society of Masters occupying Market
+Place and principal streets with Gatling guns. Expresses itself
+willing to accept Arbitration in principle.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>A Day After.</i>&mdash;Conflicts to-day between opposing forces. Streets
+resemble battle-field. Authorities announce&mdash;&quot;will shortly act with
+vigour.&quot; Enrolled ten extra policemen. Police, including extra ten,
+captured by rioters, and locked up in their own cells. Business&mdash;except
+of undertakers&mdash;at standstill.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Latest Developments.</i>&mdash;More conflicts, deaths, outrages, incendiarism.
+Central Government telegraphs to Shoemaker to take back
+both apprentices to stop disastrous disorder. No reply. Shoemaker
+and both apprentices been killed in riots.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Close of the Struggle.</i>&mdash;Stock of gunpowder exhausted. Both
+sides inclined to accept compromise. Board of Conciliation formed.
+Survivors of employers and employed shake hands. Town irretrievably
+ruined, but peace firmly re-established.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">What! Already!</span>&mdash;&quot;I&#39;m afraid,&quot; said Mrs. R., &quot;that the new
+Tower Bridge is in a bad way. I hear it said, of course I do not
+know with what truth, that it has &#39;bascules.&#39; Now weren&#39;t they the
+insects that destroyed the crops one year and gave so many persons
+the influenza? I think you&#39;ll find I&#39;m right.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Epigrammatic Description, by a Billiard Player, of the
+selection of the Chief Minstrel to be the Recipient of a
+Prize at the recent Eisteddfod.</span>&mdash;&quot;<i>Spot Bard.</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Accidents in our rottenest Rotten Row.</span>&mdash;The sooner the
+cause (<i>i.e.</i> Rotten Row itself) of the numerous complaints is <i>well
+grounded</i>, the better for the equestrians.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">National Reflection (suggested by recent Yacht-Race).</span>&mdash;It
+is of small use <span class="smcap">Britannia</span> being <span class="smcap">Britannia</span> unless she be also Vigilant.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page028" id="page028"></a>[pg&nbsp;028]</span></p>
+
+<h2>LYRE AND LANCET.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>A Story in Scenes.</i>)</p>
+
+<p class="center">PART III.&mdash;THE TWO ANDROMEDAS.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>&mdash;<i>Opposite a Railway Bookstall at a London Terminus.</i>
+<span class="smcap">Time</span>&mdash;<i>Saturday</i>, 4.25 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span></p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Drysdale</i> (<i>to his friend</i>, <span class="smcap">Galfrid Undershell</span>, <i>whom he is
+&quot;seeing off&quot;</i>). Twenty minutes to spare; time enough to lay in any
+quantity of light literature.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Undershell (in a head voice).</i> I fear the merely ephemeral does not
+appeal to me. But I should like to make a little experiment. (<i>To
+the Bookstall Clerk.</i>) A&mdash;do you happen to have a copy left of
+<span class="smcap">Clarion Blair&#39;s</span> <i>Andromeda</i>?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Clerk.</i> Not in stock, Sir. Never &#39;eard of the book, but daresay
+I could get it for you. Here&#39;s a Detective Story we&#39;re sellin&#39; like
+&#39;ot cakes&mdash;<i>The Man with the Missing Toe</i>&mdash;very cleverly written
+story, Sir.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width:40%;">
+<a href="images/028.png"><img width="100%" src="images/028.png" alt="" /></a> <p class="center">&quot;Here &#39;s a detective story we&#39;re sellin&#39; like &#39;ot cakes.&quot;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Und.</i> I merely wished to know&mdash;that was all. (<i>Turning with
+resigned disgust to</i> <span class="smcap">Drysdale</span>.) Just think of it, my dear fellow. At a
+bookstall like this one feels the pulse,
+as it were, of Contemporary Culture;
+and here my <i>Andromeda</i>, which no
+less an authority than the <i>Daily
+Chronicle</i> hailed as the uprising of a
+new and splendid era in English Songmaking,
+a Poetic Renascence, my poor
+<i>Andromeda</i> is trampled underfoot by&mdash;(<i>choking</i>)&mdash;Men
+with Missing Toes!
+What a satire on our so-called Progress!</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Drys.</i> That a purblind public should
+prefer a Shilling Shocker for railway
+reading when for a modest half-guinea
+they might obtain a numbered volume
+of Coming Poetry on hand-made paper!
+It <i>does</i> seem incredible,&mdash;but they do.
+Well, if they can&#39;t read <i>Andromeda</i>
+on the journey, they can at least peruse
+a stinger on it in this week&#39;s <i>Saturday</i>.
+Seen it?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Und.</i> No. I don&#39;t vex my soul by
+reading criticisms on my work. I am
+no <span class="smcap">Keats</span>. They may howl&mdash;but they
+will not kill <i>me</i>. By the way, the
+<i>Speaker</i> had a most enthusiastic notice
+last week.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Drys.</i> So you saw <i>that</i> then? But
+you&#39;re right not to mind the others.
+When a fellow&#39;s contrived to hang
+on to the Chariot of Fame, he can&#39;t
+wonder if a few rude and envious
+beggars call out &quot;Whip behind!&quot; eh?
+You don&#39;t want to get in yet? Suppose
+we take a turn up to the end of
+the platform.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="indent">[<i>They do.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">James Spurrell, M.R.C.V.S.</span>, <i>enters
+with his friend</i>, <span class="smcap">Thomas Tanrake</span>,
+<i>of</i> <span class="smcap">Hurdell and Tanrake</span>, <i>Job and
+Riding Masters, Mayfair</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Spurrell.</i> Yes, it&#39;s lucky for me old
+<span class="smcap">Spavin</span> being laid up like this&mdash;gives
+me a regular little outing, do you see?
+going down to a swell place like this
+Wyvern Court, and being put up there for a day or two! I shouldn&#39;t
+wonder if they do you very well in the housekeeper&#39;s room. (<i>To</i> Clerk.)
+Give me a <i>Pink &#39;Un</i> and last week&#39;s <i>Dog Fancier&#39;s Guide</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Clerk.</i> We&#39;ve returned the unsold copies. Could give you <i>this</i>
+week&#39;s; or there&#39;s <i>The Rabbit and Poultry Breeder&#39;s Journal</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Spurr.</i> Oh, rabbits be blowed! (To <span class="smcap">Tanrake</span>.) I wanted you to
+see that notice they put in of <i>Andromeda</i> and me, with my photo
+and all; it said she was the best bull-bitch they&#39;d seen for many a
+day, and fully deserved her first prize.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Tanrake.</i> She&#39;s a rare good bitch, and no mistake. But what
+made you call her such an outlandish name?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Spurr.</i> Well, I <i>was</i> going to call her <i>Sal</i>; but a chap at the
+College thought the other would look more stylish if I ever meant to
+exhibit her. <i>Andromeda</i> was one of them Roman goddesses, you know.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Tanr.</i> Oh, I knew <i>that</i> right enough. Come and have a drink
+before you start&mdash;just for luck&mdash;not that you want <i>that</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Spurr.</i> I&#39;m lucky enough in most things, <span class="smcap">Tom</span>; in everything
+except love. I told you about that girl, you know&mdash;<span class="smcap">Emma</span>&mdash;and
+my being as good as engaged to her, and then, all of a sudden, she
+went off abroad and I&#39;ve never seen or had a line from her since.
+Can&#39;t call <i>that</i> luck, you know. Well, I won&#39;t say no to a glass of
+something.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="indent">[<i>They disappear into the Refreshment Room.</i></p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>The</i> Countess of <span class="smcap">Cantire</span> <i>enters with her daughter</i>, Lady
+<span class="smcap">Maisie Mull</span>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Lady Cantire</i> (<i>to</i> Footman). Get a compartment for us, and two
+foot-warmers, and a second-class as near ours as you can for
+<span class="smcap">Phillipson</span>; then come back here. Stay, I&#39;d better give you
+<span class="smcap">Phillipson&#39;s</span> ticket. (<i>The</i> Footman <i>disappears in the crowd.</i>) Now
+we must get something to read on the journey. (<i>To</i> Clerk.) I want a
+book of some sort&mdash;no rubbish, mind; something serious and
+improving, and <i>not</i> a work of fiction.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Clerk.</i> Exactly so, Ma&#39;am. Let me see. Ah, here&#39;s <i>Alone with
+the &#39;Airy Ainoo</i>. How would you like <i>that</i>?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Lady Cant.</i> (<i>with decision</i>). I should not like it at all.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Clerk.</i> I quite understand. Well, I can give you <i>Three &#39;Undred
+Ways of Dressing the Cold Mutton</i>&mdash;useful little book for a family,
+redooced to one and ninepence.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Lady Cant.</i> Thank you. I think I will wait until I am reduced
+to one and ninepence.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Clerk.</i> Precisely. What do you say to <i>Seven &#39;Undred Side-splitters
+for Sixpence</i>? &#39;Ighly yumorous, I assure you.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Lady Cant.</i> Are these times to split our sides, with so many
+serious social problems pressing for
+solution? You are presumably not
+without intelligence; do you never
+reflect upon the responsibility you
+incur in assisting to circulate trivial
+and frivolous trash of this sort?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Clerk</i> (<i>dubiously</i>). Well, I can&#39;t
+say as I do, particular, Ma&#39;am. I&#39;m
+paid to sell the books&mdash;I don&#39;t <i>select</i>
+&#39;em.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Lady Cant.</i> That is <i>no</i> excuse for
+you&mdash;you ought to exercise some discrimination
+on your own account,
+instead of pressing people to buy what
+can do them no possible good. You
+can give me a <i>Society Snippets</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Lady Maisie.</i> Mamma! A penny
+paper that says such rude things about
+the Royal Family!</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Lady Cant.</i> It&#39;s always instructive
+to know what these creatures are saying
+about one, my dear, and it&#39;s astonishing
+how they manage to find out
+the things they do. Ah, here&#39;s <span class="smcap">Gravener</span>
+coming back. He&#39;s got us a
+carriage, and we&#39;d better get in.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="indent">[<i>She and her daughter enter a first-class
+compartment</i>; <span class="smcap">Undershell</span>
+<i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Drysdale</span> <i>return</i>.</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Drys.</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Undershell</span>). Well, I
+don&#39;t see now where the insolence
+comes in. These people have invited
+you to stay with them&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Und.</i> But why? Not because they
+appreciate my work&mdash;which they probably
+only half understand&mdash;but out
+of mere idle curiosity to see what
+manner of strange beast a Poet may
+be! And <i>I</i> don&#39;t know this Lady
+<span class="smcap">Culverin</span>&mdash;never met her in my life!
+What the deuce does she mean by
+sending me an invitation? Why
+should these smart women suppose
+that they are entitled to send for a
+Man of Genius, as if he was their <i>lackey?</i> Answer me that!</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Drys.</i> Perhaps the delusion is encouraged by the fact that Genius
+occasionally condescends to answer the bell.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Und.</i> (<i>reddening</i>). Do you imagine I am going down to this place
+simply to please <i>them</i>?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Drys.</i> I should think it a doubtful kindness, in your present frame
+of mind; and, as you are hardly going to please yourself, wouldn&#39;t
+it be more dignified, on the whole, not to go at all?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Und.</i> You never <i>did</i> understand me! Sometimes I think I was
+born to be misunderstood! But you might do me the justice to
+believe that I am not going from merely snobbish motives. May
+I not feel that such a recognition as this is a tribute less to my poor
+self than to Literature, and that, as such, I have scarcely the <i>right</i>
+to decline it?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Drys.</i> Ah, if you put it in that way, I am silenced, of course.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Und.</i> Or what if I am going to show these Patricians that&mdash;Poet
+of the People as I am&mdash;they can neither patronise nor cajole me?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Drys.</i> Exactly, old chap&mdash;what if you <i>are</i>?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Und.</i> I don&#39;t say that I may not have another reason&mdash;a&mdash;a rather
+romantic one&mdash;but you would only sneer if I told you! I know you
+think me a poor creature whose head has been turned by an undeserved
+success.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page029" id="page029"></a>[pg&nbsp;029]</span>
+<i>Drys.</i> You&#39;re not going to try to pick a quarrel with an old chum,
+are you? Come, you know well enough I don&#39;t think anything of the
+sort. I&#39;ve always said you had the right stuff in you, and would
+show it some day; there are even signs of it in <i>Andromeda</i> here and
+there; but you&#39;ll do better things than that, if you&#39;ll only let some
+of the wind out of your head. I like you, old fellow, and that&#39;s
+just why it riles me to see you taking yourself so devilish seriously
+on the strength of a little volume of verse which has been &quot;boomed&quot;
+for all it&#39;s worth, and considerably more. You&#39;ve only got your
+immortality on a short repairing lease at present, old boy!</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Und.</i> (<i>with bitterness</i>). I am fortunate in possessing such a candid
+friend. But I mustn&#39;t keep you here any longer.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Drys.</i> Very well. I suppose you&#39;re going first? Consider the
+feelings of the <span class="smcap">Culverin</span> footman at the other end!</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Und.</i> (<i>as he fingers a first-class ticket in his pocket</i>). You have a
+very low view of human nature! (<i>Here he remarks a remarkably
+pretty face at a second-class window close by.</i>) As it <i>happens</i>, I am
+travelling second.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="indent">[<i>He gets in.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Drys.</i> (<i>at the window</i>). Well, good-bye, old chap. Good luck to
+you at Wyvern, and remember&mdash;wear your livery with as good a
+grace as possible.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Und.</i> I do not intend to wear any livery whatever.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="indent">[<i>The owner of the pretty face regards</i> <span class="smcap">Undershell</span> <i>with interest.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Spurr</i>. (<i>coming out of the Refreshment Room</i>). What, second?
+with all my exes. paid? Not <i>likely</i>! I&#39;m going to travel in style
+this journey. No&mdash;not a smoker; don&#39;t want to create a bad
+impression, you know. This will do for me.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="indent">[<i>He gets into a compartment occupied by</i> Lady <span class="smcap">Cantire</span> <i>and her
+daughter.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Tanr.</i> (<i>at the window</i>). There&mdash;you&#39;re off now. Pleasant
+journey to you, old man. Hope you&#39;ll enjoy yourself at this Wyvern
+Court you&#39;re going to&mdash;and I say, don&#39;t forget to send me that notice
+of <i>Andromeda</i> when you get back!</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="indent">[<i>The</i> Countess <i>and</i> Lady <span class="smcap">Maisie</span> <i>start slightly; the train moves
+out of the station.</i></p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;">
+<a href="images/029.png"><img width="100%" src="images/029.png" alt="" /></a>
+
+<h3>&#39;ARRY AT BISLEY.</h3>
+
+<p class="indent">&#39;<i>Arry</i> (<i>to &#39;Arriet</i>). &quot;<span class="smcap">Oh, I sy! What Seeds them must be to
+grow a Lamp-post!</span>&quot;</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE LATEST GREAT YACHT RACE.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>By our own Nautical Special.</i>)</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>,&mdash;The captain went on board the gallant <i>Naughty Lass</i>
+with his Wind Lass. A Wind Lass is short for &quot;Winn&#39;d Lass,&quot; <i>i.e.</i>
+a Lass he has won. I think her name is &quot;<span class="smcap">Poll</span>.&quot; The Captain says
+he is always true to her, and nothing will ever induce him to leave
+his dear Wind Lass ashore when he&#39;s afloat. Noble sentiment, but
+unpractical. The fact is (as whispered) the Wind Lass is jealous of the
+<i>Naughty Lass</i>, and won&#39;t let the Captain go alone. When the other
+Captain went on board the rival of the gallant <i>Naughty Lass</i>, the
+<i>Anne Nemone</i>, and &quot;the crafty ones,&quot; as they call the sailors &quot;in the
+know,&quot; were ready to bet any money on the <i>Anne Nemone</i>. Both
+cutters &quot;cut&quot; (hence the name) well away from each other at the
+start, and a fresh breeze coming up (the stale one had been got rid of)
+there was a lot of fore-reaching, until the Captain, who is an old hand
+at this sort of thing, sent round steward with brandy. &quot;All hands for
+grog!&quot; was then the order of the day, and we just managed to clear
+Muddle Point, leaving the home-marked (or &quot;home-made,&quot; I forget
+which is the technical term, but I suppose the latter, as she was
+built on the neighbouring premises) boat well to windward. After a
+free reach in this weather down to Boot Shore&mdash;where the vessel
+heeled over a bit, but nothing to speak of, as it was soon remedied
+by a cobble that was close at hand&mdash;the <i>Naughty Lass</i> lifted her
+head-sails, and away we went for Incog Bay, where nobody knew
+us, or we should have been received with three times three.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At this moment the <i>Anne Nemone</i>, racing close to us, let out a
+right good &quot;gybe,&quot; which was in execrable taste, I admit, but which
+ought not to have called for any retort from the captain&#39;s Wind
+Lass, who gave it her hot and strong, and threatened to haul her over
+the coal-scuttlers. Fortunately we were away again, and there was
+no time for opposite gybes. (I spell &quot;gybes&quot; in the old English
+nautical fashion, but, as I ascertain, it is precisely the same as &quot;jibes.&quot;)
+Sailors&#39; language is a bit odd; they don&#39;t mean anything, I know&mdash;it&#39;s
+only professional; still, as reporting the matter to ears polite,
+I scarcely like to set down in full <i>all</i> I heard. At 1 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> all hands
+were piped for luncheon, and we had spinnakers cooked in their skins
+(they are a sort of bean), with a rare nautical dish called &quot;Booms
+and Bacon.&quot; Fine! I did enjoy it! But then I&#39;m an old hand at
+this sort of thing,&mdash;luncheon on board, I mean; for there&#39;s scarcely
+a board, be it sea board or other board, or, in fact, any boarding
+establishment, that I don&#39;t know. But &quot;yeo ho! my boys! and
+avast!&quot; for are we not still racing? We are!!</p>
+
+<p class="indent">We passed The Bottle at 2.30 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> What had become of the
+<i>Anne Nemone</i> I don&#39;t know, and probably we should never have
+seen her again had not our captain, who was trying to sight the
+port after passing The Bottle, stood on the wrong tack, which ran
+into his boot and hurt him awfully. He was carried below, and we
+gathered round him as he turned to the <i>Naughty Lass</i> and murmured&mdash;but
+<span class="smcap">Polly</span> objected that there was nothing to murmur about
+or to grumble at, and that the sooner he stumbled on deck the
+better it would be for the race. So up rose our brave captain, took a
+stiff draught of weather bilge (which is the best preventive of sea-sickness),
+and calling for his first mate, Mr. <span class="smcap">Jack Yard Topsail</span>,
+told him to &quot;stand away,&quot; which I could quite understand, for <span class="smcap">Jack
+Yard Topsail</span> is a regular salt, full of tar, rum, &#39;baccy, and everything
+that can make life sweet to <i>him</i>, but not to his immediate neighbours.
+So &quot;stand away&quot; and not &quot;stand by&quot; it was, and when we
+got to Squeams Bay the sailors took a short hitch (it is necessary occasionally&mdash;but
+I cannot say more&mdash;lady-readers being present), and we
+went streaking away like a side of bacon on a fine day.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Are we winning?&quot; asks <span class="smcap">Polly</span>, the Wind Lass. &quot;<i>You</i> look
+winning!&quot; I reply, politely. &quot;By how much?&quot; she inquires, just
+tucking up her skirts, and showing a trim ankle. The Captain, with
+his glass to his eye, and looking down, answers, &quot;The fifth of a long
+leg!&quot; I never saw a woman so angry! &quot;I haven&#39;t!&quot; she exclaimed;
+and there would have been a row, and we should never have won, as
+we did splendidly, had not the &quot;First Officer&quot; (just as they name the
+supernumeraries in a play) come up and reminded Pretty <span class="smcap">Polly</span> that
+she wasn&#39;t the only mate the Captain had on board. &quot;Where&#39;s the
+other?&quot; she cried, in a fury. &quot;Below!&quot; answered the First Officer,
+and down went <span class="smcap">Polly</span>, not to re-appear again until all was over, and
+our victorious binnacle was waving proudly from the fore-top-gallant.
+At the finish we went clean into harbour, without a speck on our
+forecastle, or a stain on our character. I wire you the account of
+this great race, and am (Rule <span class="smcap">Britannia</span>!)</p>
+
+<p class="right">Yours,<br />
+&quot;<span class="smcap">Every Other Inch a Sailor!</span>&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">P.S.&mdash;I am informed that after I left the vessel&mdash;in fact it was
+next day&mdash;a Burgee was run up at the mast head. I suppose some
+sort of court-martial was held first, and that the Burgee (poor
+wretch!) was caught red-handed. Still, in these days, this sort of
+proceeding does sound rather tyrannical. High-masted justice, eh?
+Well, sea-dogs will be sea-dogs. I don&#39;t exactly know what a Burgee
+is, but I fancy he is something between a Buccaneer and a Bargee;
+a sort of river-and-sea pirate. But I fear it is a landsman!!
+Burgee, masculine (and probably husband) of Burgess!! If so, there
+<i>will</i> be a row!</p>
+
+<p class="right">Yours as Before the Mast.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="pagenum"><a name="page030" id="page030"></a>[pg&nbsp;030]</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;">
+<img width="100%" src="images/031.png" alt="" />
+<h3>&quot;A FRIEND IN NEED&mdash;&quot;</h3>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Anarchist.</span> &quot;&#39;ELP! &#39;ELP! PER-LICE!!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Constable.</span> &quot;&#39;DOWN WITH EVERYTHING,&#39; INDEED! LUCKY FOR <i>YOU</i> YOU HAVEN&#39;T &#39;DOWN&#39;D&#39; <i>ME</i>!!&quot;</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>A FRIEND IN NEED;</h2>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Or, The Lawbreaker&#39;s Last Refuge.</i></p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i2">Sure stranger irony life never saw</p>
+<p class="i2">Than Lawlessness low suppliant to the Law!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Guardian of Order soliloquiseth:</i>&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&quot;Down with Everything!&quot; Ah, yes!</p>
+<p class="i2">That&#39;s the sort o&#39; rot you jaw!</p>
+<p>You&#39;d be in a tidy mess</p>
+<p class="i2">If you&#39;d downed with good old Law.</p>
+<p>Funniest job we have to do,</p>
+<p>Is to &quot;save&quot; such scamps as you.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&quot;Down with Everything!&quot; Spout on!</p>
+<p class="i2">I, who stand for Law, stand by.</p>
+<p>You may want me ere you&#39;ve done.</p>
+<p class="i2">Somethink in that workman&#39;s eye,</p>
+<p>And the clenching of his fist,</p>
+<p>Ought to put you on the twist.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Think you&#39;re fetching of &#39;em fine</p>
+<p class="i2">With your tommy-rotten patter?</p>
+<p>Think you&#39;ve got &#39;em in a line,</p>
+<p class="i2">Or as near as doesn&#39;t matter?</p>
+<p>Won&#39;t you feel in a rare stew</p>
+<p>If they take to downing <i>you</i>?</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Downing is a sort o&#39; game</p>
+<p class="i2">Two can play at <i>here</i>&mdash;thanks be!</p>
+<p>Spin your lead out! Don&#39;t let shame,</p>
+<p class="i2">Common sense, or courtesy,</p>
+<p>Put the gag on your red rag;</p>
+<p>Flourish it&mdash;like your Red Flag!</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>How they waggle, flag and tongue!</p>
+<p class="i2">Proud o&#39; that same bit of bunting?</p>
+<p>See the glances on you flung?</p>
+<p class="i2">Hear the British workman grunting?</p>
+<p>He is none too fond, that chap,</p>
+<p>Of rank rot and the Red Cap!</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Perched upon a noodle&#39;s nob,</p>
+<p class="i2">Minds me of an organ-monkey!&mdash;</p>
+<p>If a workman will not <i>rob</i>,</p>
+<p class="i2">You denounce him as a &quot;flunkey.&quot;</p>
+<p>Some of &#39;em know what that means.</p>
+<p>Mind your eye! They&#39;ll give you beans!</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Ah! I thought so. Gone too fur!</p>
+<p class="i2">Set the British Workman booing.</p>
+<p>&quot;<i>Dirty dog!!!</i>&quot; That riles you, Sir!</p>
+<p class="i2">Better mind what you are doing!</p>
+<p>Mug goes saffron now, with fear,</p>
+<p>Round you glare! Yes, Law <i>is</i> here!</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Show your teeth, shark-like and yellow!</p>
+<p class="i2">You won&#39;t frighten them, or me.</p>
+<p>Ah! there comes the true mob-bellow!</p>
+<p class="i2">That means mischief&mdash;as you see.</p>
+<p>Mob, when mettled, goes a squelcher</p>
+<p>For Thief, Anarchist <i>or</i> Welsher.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&quot;Help! Perlice!!&quot; Oh! <i>that</i>&#39;s your cry!</p>
+<p class="i2"><i>I&#39;m</i> your friend, then,&mdash;at a pinch?</p>
+<p>Funk first taste of Anarchy?</p>
+<p class="i2">Law is better than&mdash;Judge Lynch?</p>
+<p>Rummy this! For all his jaw</p>
+<p class="i2">The lawbreaker flies to Law!</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Good as a sensation novel</p>
+<p class="i2">For to see you crouching there.</p>
+<p>Can&#39;t these Red Flag heroes grovel?</p>
+<p class="i2">Come, my Trojan, have a care.</p>
+<p>Do not clasp Law&#39;s legs that way,</p>
+<p>Like <i>Scum Goodman</i> in the play.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Help? Oh, yes; I&#39;ll help you&mdash;out!&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">&quot;<i>Stand back there, please! Pass along!</i>&quot;</p>
+<p>Come, get up! <i>Now</i> don&#39;t you doubt</p>
+<p class="i2">If your &quot;downing&quot; dodge ain&#39;t wrong?</p>
+<p>Anyhow &#39;tis, you&#39;ll agree,</p>
+<p>Lucky for <i>you</i>&mdash;you&#39;ve not downed <i>me</i>!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;">
+<img width="100%" src="images/030.png" alt="" />
+<h3>WHAT OUR ARTIST HAS TO PUT UP WITH.</h3>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Madame la Baronne</i> (<i>who <span class="smcap">WILL</span> speak English</i>). &quot;<span class="smcap">And tell me, Mistress Brown, your clevare &#39;Usband, who &#39;ave a so beautiful
+talent&mdash;is he yet of ze Royal Academy?</span>&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Our Artist&#39;s Wife</i> (<i>who <span class="smcap">WILL</span> speak French</i>). &quot;<span class="smcap">Oh non, Madame, hélas! Seulement, il est <i>pendu</i> cette Année, vous savez!</span>&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Madame la Baronne</i> (<i>relapsing into her native language</i>). &quot;<span class="smcap">Oh&mdash;Madame&mdash;quelle affreuse Nouvelle!</span>&quot;</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>A MIDSUMMER DAY-DREAM.</h2>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="indent">[<i>The Jackson-Harmsworth Expedition has started.</i>]</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><span class="smcap">Punch</span> sleeps. The cheerful Sage has heard</p>
+<p class="i2">That <span class="smcap">Jackson</span> is about to start.</p>
+<p>His sympathies are warmly stirred,</p>
+<p class="i2">He hath the <i>Windward&#39;s</i> weal at heart.</p>
+<p>He dreams: That block of dinner ice</p>
+<p class="i2">Stirs arctic fancies in his breast.</p>
+<p>He travels Pole-ward in a trice;</p>
+<p class="i2">He joins the <span class="smcap">Jackson-Harmsworth</span> quest.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&quot;All precious things, discovered late</p>
+<p class="i2">To those that seek them issue forth.&quot;&mdash;</p>
+<p>To find her may be <span class="smcap">Jackson&#39;s</span> fate,</p>
+<p class="i2">That Sleeping Beauty of the North!</p>
+<p>She lieth in her icy cave</p>
+<p class="i2">As still as sleep, as white as death.</p>
+<p>Her look might stagger the most brave,</p>
+<p class="i2">And make the stoutest hold his breath.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&quot;The bodies and the bones of those</p>
+<p class="i2">That strove in other days to pass,&quot;</p>
+<p>Are scattered o&#39;er the spreading snows,</p>
+<p class="i2">Are bleached about that sea of glass.</p>
+<p>He gazes on the silent dead:</p>
+<p class="i2">&quot;They perished in their daring deeds.&quot;</p>
+<p>The proverb flashes through his head,</p>
+<p class="i2">&quot;The many fail: the one succeeds.&quot;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p><i>Punch</i> wakes: lo! it is but a dream&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">A vision of the Frozen Sea;</p>
+<p>Yet may be it may hold a gleam</p>
+<p class="i2">Of prophecy. So mote it be!</p>
+<p>To <span class="smcap">Jackson</span> and to <span class="smcap">Harmsworth</span> too</p>
+<p class="i2">He brims a well-earnt bumper. &quot;Skoal!&quot;</p>
+<p>Here&#39;s health to them and their brave crew!</p>
+<p class="i2">And safe return from well-won goal!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page033" id="page033"></a>[pg&nbsp;033]</span></p>
+
+<h2>THE MINX.&mdash;A POEM IN PROSE.</h2>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Poet.</i> It&#39;s so good of you to see
+me. I merely wished to ask one or
+two questions as to your career. You
+must have led a most interesting life.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width:40%;">
+<img width="100%" src="images/033.png" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Sphinx.</i> You are very inquisitive
+and extremely indiscreet, and I have
+always carefully avoided being interviewed.
+However, go on.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Poet.</i> I believe you can read hieroglyphs?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Sphinx.</i> Oh yes; I <i>can</i>, fluently,
+But I never do. I assure you they
+are not in the least amusing.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Poet.</i> No doubt you have talked
+with hippogriffs and basilisks?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Sphinx</i> (<i>modestly</i>). I certainly <i>was</i>
+in rather a smart set at one time. As
+they say, I have &quot;known better days.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Poet.</i> Did you ever have any conversation
+with <span class="smcap">Thoth</span>?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Sphinx</i> (<i>loftily</i>). Oh, dear no!
+(<i>Mimicking.</i>) Thoth he wath not conthidered
+quite a nice perthon. I would
+not allow him to be introduced to me.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Poet.</i> You were very particular?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Sphinx.</i> One has to be careful.
+The world is so censorious.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Poet.</i> I wonder, would you give
+me the pleasure of singing to me?
+&quot;<i>Adrian&#39;s Gilded Barge</i>,&quot; for
+instance?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Sphinx.</i> You must really excuse
+me. I am not in good voice. By the
+way, the &quot;Gilded Barge,&quot; as you
+call it, was merely a shabby sort of
+punt. It would have had no effect
+whatever at the Henley Regatta.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Poet.</i> Dear me! Is it true you
+played golf among the Pyramids?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Sphinx</i> (<i>emphatically</i>). Perfectly
+untrue. You see what absurd reports
+get about!</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Poet</i> (<i>softly</i>). They do. What was
+that story about the Tyrian?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Sphinx.</i> Merely gossip. There was
+nothing in it, I assure you.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Poet.</i> And <span class="smcap">Apis</span>?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Sphinx.</i> Oh, he sent me some
+flowers, and there were paragraphs
+about it&mdash;in hieroglyphs&mdash;in the
+society papers. That was all. But
+they were contradicted.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Poet.</i> You knew <span class="smcap">Ammon</span> very
+well, I believe?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Sphinx</i> (<i>frankly</i>). <span class="smcap">Ammon</span> and I
+<i>were</i> great pals. I used to see a
+good deal of him. He came in to tea
+very often&mdash;he was <i>quite</i> interesting.
+But I have not seen him for a long
+time. He had one fault&mdash;he <i>would</i>
+smoke in the drawing-room. And
+though I hope I am not too conventional,
+I really could not allow <i>that</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Poet.</i> How pleased they would all
+be to see you again! Why do you
+not go over to Egypt for the winter?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Sphinx.</i> The hotels at Cairo are so
+dreadfully expensive.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Poet.</i> Is it true you went tunny-fishing
+with <span class="smcap">Antony</span>?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Sphinx.</i> One must draw the line
+somewhere! <span class="smcap">Cleopatra</span> was so cross.
+She was horribly jealous, and not
+nearly so handsome as you might suppose,
+though she <i>was</i> photographed
+as a &quot;type of Egyptian Beauty!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Poet.</i> I must thank you very much
+for the courteous way in which you
+have replied to my questions. And
+now will you forgive me if I make
+an observation? In my opinion you
+are not a Sphinx at all.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Sphinx</i> (<i>indignantly</i>). What am I,
+then?</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Poet.</i> A Minx.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE LAY OF THE EXPLORER.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>I USED to think that if a man</p>
+<p class="i2">In any character could score a</p>
+<p>Distinctly leonine success,</p>
+<p class="i2">&#39;Twould be as a returned explorer.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>So, when by sixteen tigers tree&#39;d,</p>
+<p class="i2">Or when mad elephants were charging,</p>
+<p>I joyed to say&mdash;&quot;On this, some day,</p>
+<p class="i2">My countrymen will be enlarging.&quot;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>And when mosquitoes buzzed and bit</p>
+<p class="i2">(For &#39;tis their pleasing nature to),</p>
+<p>Or fevers floored me, still this dream</p>
+<p class="i2">Helped me to suffer and to do.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>I <i>have</i> returned! Whole dusky tribes</p>
+<p class="i2">I&#39;ve wiped right out&mdash;such labour sweet is!&mdash;</p>
+<p>And with innumerable chiefs</p>
+<p class="i2">Arranged unconscionable treaties.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>What&#39;s the result? I have become</p>
+<p class="i2">A butt for each humanitarian,</p>
+<p>Who call my exploits in the chase</p>
+<p class="i2">The work of a &quot;confessed barbarian.&quot;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>And, worst of all, my rival, <span class="smcap">Jones</span>,</p>
+<p class="i2">Who&#39;d any trick that&#39;s low and mean dare,</p>
+<p>Cries&mdash;&quot;Equatorial jungles! Pish!</p>
+<p class="i2">I don&#39;t believe he&#39;s ever been there!&quot;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>So now I just &quot;explore&quot; Herne Bay,</p>
+<p class="i2">With trippers, niggers, nurses, babies:</p>
+<p>I&#39;ve tried for fame. I &#39;ve gained it, too:</p>
+<p class="i2">I share it with the vanished <span class="smcap">Jabez</span>!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Note and Query.</span>&mdash;At Aldershot the
+<span class="smcap">Queen</span> expressed herself much pleased with
+the &quot;tattoo&quot; all round. &quot;<span class="smcap">Ignoramus</span>&quot;
+writes to inquire &quot;if &#39;tattoo-ing&#39; is done in
+Indian ink or with gunpowder?&quot;</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>RULE, &quot;BRITANNIA.&quot;</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>New Yachtical Version.</i>)</p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">H.R.H. the P&mdash;&mdash;e of W&mdash;&mdash;s</span> <i>sings</i>:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>When <i>Vigilant</i>, at <span class="smcap">Gould&#39;s</span> command,</p>
+<p class="i2">Came over here to sweep the main,</p>
+<p>This was the lay that thrilled the land,</p>
+<p class="i2">And Yankee Doodle loved the strain&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">  Lick <i>Britannia!</i> the fleet <i>Britannia</i> lick!</p>
+<p class="i2">  And <span class="smcap">Johnny Bull</span> may cut his stick.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>But <i>Vigilant</i>, less fast than thee,</p>
+<p class="i2">Must in her turn before thee fall,</p>
+<p><i>Britannia</i>, who hast kept the sea,</p>
+<p class="i2">The dread and envy of them all.</p>
+<p class="i2">  Win, <i>Britannia</i>! <i>Britannia</i> rules the waves!</p>
+<p class="i2">  (Though by the narrowest of shaves.)</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Six races in succession show</p>
+<p class="i2">The Yankee yacht has met her match;</p>
+<p>Though she was hailed, not long ago,</p>
+<p class="i2">The swiftest clipper of the batch.</p>
+<p class="i2">  Rule, <i>Britannia</i>! <i>Britannia</i> rule the waves!</p>
+<p class="i2">  The most appropriate of staves!</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>I&#39;m sorry poor <span class="smcap">Dunraven&#39;s</span> crack</p>
+<p class="i2">So prematurely has gone down;</p>
+<p>But mine has kept the winning tack,</p>
+<p class="i2">And well upheld the isle&#39;s renown.</p>
+<p class="i2">  Rule, <i>Britannia</i>! &amp;c.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>When <span class="smcap">Jonathan</span> thy match hath found,</p>
+<p class="i2">He&#39;ll to our coasts again repair.</p>
+<p>We&#39;ll have another friendly round,</p>
+<p class="i2">With manly hearts and all things fair.</p>
+<p class="i2">  Rule, <i>Britannia</i>! <i>Britannia</i> rules the waves,</p>
+<p class="i2">  Six sequent wins <span class="smcap">Bull&#39;s</span> honour saves!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>TO ALTHEA IN THE STALLS.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>From the Orchestra as I was staring</p>
+<p class="i2">So wearily down at the hall,</p>
+<p>The programme I held hardly caring</p>
+<p class="i2">To turn, I was tired of it all!</p>
+<p>For I knew &#39;twas a futile endeavour</p>
+<p class="i2">With music my trouble to drown,</p>
+<p>And I&#39;d made up my mind that you never,</p>
+<p class="i2">Ah, never, would come back to town!</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>When suddenly, there I beheld you</p>
+<p class="i2">Yourself&mdash;ah, the joyous amaze!</p>
+<p>I wonder what instinct impelled you</p>
+<p class="i2">Your dreamy dark eyes to upraise,</p>
+<p>That for one happy second&#39;s communing</p>
+<p class="i2">Met mine that had waited so long&mdash;</p>
+<p>And the wail of the violins tuning</p>
+<p class="i2">It turned to a jubilant song!</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&#39;Mid organ-chords sombre and mellow</p>
+<p class="i2">There breaks out a ripple of glee,</p>
+<p>And the voice of the violoncello,</p>
+<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Althea</span>, is pleading for me!</p>
+<p>The music is beating and surging</p>
+<p class="i2">With joy no <i>adagio</i> can drown,</p>
+<p>In ecstasy all things are merging&mdash;</p>
+<p class="i2">Because you have come back to town!</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">The Corean Difficulty.</span>&mdash;&quot;<i>Japan declines
+to withdraw.</i>&quot;&mdash;(<i>Telegram, Thursday,
+July 12</i>).&mdash;&quot;Ah,&quot; observed Miss <span class="smcap">Quoter</span>,
+who is ever ready, &quot;that reminds me of
+<span class="smcap">Byron&#39;s</span> line in <i>Mazeppa</i>, quite applicable to
+the present situation&mdash;</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="indent">&#39;Again he urges on his mild Corea.&#39;&quot;</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">New Work</span> (<i>by the Chief Druid Minstrel at
+the Eisteddfod, dedicated to their Royal Highnesses</i>).&mdash;&quot;<i>How
+to be Harpy in Wales.</i>&quot;
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page034" id="page034"></a>[pg&nbsp;034]</span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;">
+<img width="100%" src="images/034.png" alt="" />
+<h3>PREHISTORIC PEEPS.</h3>
+
+<p class="center">A CRICKET MATCH.  &quot;HOWS THAT, UMPIRE?&quot;!!</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page035" id="page035"></a>[pg&nbsp;035]</span></p>
+
+<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2>
+
+<p class="indent">EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>House of Lords, Monday, July 9.</i>&mdash;<span class="smcap">Playfair&#39;s</span> leonine countenance
+habitually cheerful. But never saw him looking so pleased
+as when we walked through St. Stephen&#39;s Chapel on way to Lords just
+now. &quot;From point of view of old House of Commons man the Lords
+are, I admit, a little unresponsive,&quot; my Lord said. &quot;The chamber is,
+acoustically and otherwise, the sepulchre of speech. You remember
+the little lecture on
+margarine I delivered
+years ago in the Commons?
+Bless me, how
+delighted the House
+was to see the table
+covered with small
+white pots containing
+samples, with a bottle
+of best Dorset margarine
+hooked on to the
+Mace for greater convenience
+of reference.
+Often I&#39;ve enchained
+an audience with my
+object lessons. Up to
+present time that monologue
+on margarine
+ranks as most successful.
+But I&#39;ll beat
+the record to-night.
+See that?&quot; (Here he
+slapped a something
+bulging out from his
+trouser pocket.)
+&quot;Guess what that is?
+Thought you couldn&#39;t.
+It&#39;s cultch. Know
+what cultch is?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Not unless it&#39;s
+the beginning of knowledge,&quot;
+I said, drawing
+a bow, so to speak,
+at a venture. &quot;Positive
+cultch, comparative
+culture, eh?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Playfair</span> stared at
+me vacantly. &quot;Cultch&mdash;&mdash;&quot;
+he said; &quot;but
+no, that&#39;s part of the
+lecture. Come along to
+the Lords and hear it.&quot;</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width:30%;">
+<a href="images/035a.png"><img width="100%" src="images/035a.png" alt="" /></a> <p class="center">Suggested Statues for the Vacant Niches in the
+Inner Lobby.</p>
+
+<p class="center">No. I.&mdash;&quot;The Majesty of the Law!&quot;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="indent">House not in condition particularly inspiring for lecturer.
+Benches mostly empty; <span class="smcap">Stanley</span> of Alderley completed depletion by
+rambling speech of half an hour&#39;s duration, modestly described in
+Orders as &quot;a question.&quot; Wanted to know how many lighthouses in
+England and Wales paid Income Tax; how many were behindhand
+with their rates; were Death Duties applicable to some of them; if
+so, which; and whether the tenants compounded for rates or otherwise.
+These inquiries not without interest, but <span class="smcap">Stanley</span> not chiefly
+remarkable for concentration of thought or conciseness of phrase.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">At length <span class="smcap">Playfair&#39;s</span> turn came. A flutter of interest amongst
+Peers as he was observed tugging at something in trousers pocket;
+hauled out what looked like empty oyster shell.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Ah!&quot; said <span class="smcap">Herschell</span>, smiling, &quot;I see the lawyers have been
+before us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;In moving the Second Reading of the Sea Fisheries (Shell Fish)
+Bill, I propose, if I may be permitted, to give your Lordships
+an object lesson. This particular shell,&quot; <span class="smcap">Playfair</span> continued,
+holding it up between finger and thumb, &quot;is covered all over with
+microscopic oysters. Oysters in all stages of growth are seen there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Well,&quot; said the <span class="smcap">Marquis of Carabas</span>, &quot;if one had a twenty
+billion magnifying glass of the kind associated with the memory of
+<i>Sam Weller</i>, perhaps we might see the oysters. All I can say is, I
+don&#39;t see any worth three and sixpence a dozen. <span class="smcap">Playfair</span>&#39;s no
+business to bring these things down here, filling House with smell
+of stale seaweed when his oysters are no bigger than a pin&#39;s head.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The <span class="smcap">Marquis</span> strode angrily forth. Others followed. Lecture cut
+short.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Business done.</i>&mdash;Sea Fisheries (Shell Fish) Bill read a second time,
+amid unexpectedly depressing circumstances.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>House of Commons, Tuesday.</i>&mdash;<span class="smcap">Squire of Malwood</span> back after
+a week&#39;s rustication. Brings glowing news of the hay crop; looks,
+indeed, as if he had been helping to make it; ruddier than a
+cherry; indescribable but unmistakable country air about him as
+he sits on Treasury Bench with folded arms, listening to the monotonous
+ripple of talk renewed on Budget Bill.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="indent">&quot;Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis,&quot;</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p class="indent">says <span class="smcap">Prince Arthur</span>, looking across at the rustic Squire.</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p class="indent">&quot;<i>At ille</i></p>
+
+<p class="indent">Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis ævum,&quot;</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p class="indent">added <span class="smcap">Jokim</span>, with approving glance at bench behind, where the
+Busy B.&#39;s swarm after week&#39;s rest, humming round amendments
+with increased vigour.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Almost imperceptible movement of river goes forward. The
+blameless <span class="smcap">Bartley</span> on his feet, entrancing House with particulars of
+a silver cup, prized heirloom in the humble household in Victoria
+Street. It seems that one of <span class="smcap">Bartley&#39;s</span> ancestors&mdash;he who came over
+with the Conqueror&mdash;had brought with him certain blades of buckwheat,
+which he industriously planted out on the site, then a meadow,
+on which the Army and Navy Stores now flourish. The buckwheat
+grew apace. One day King <span class="smcap">Stephen</span>, passing by on a palfrey, noted
+the waving green expanse. Enquiring to whom the State was
+indebted for this fair prospect, a courtier informed him that it was
+&quot;the ancestor of <span class="smcap">George Christopher Trout Bartley</span>, Member
+for North Islington in the thirteenth Parliament of Queen <span class="smcap">Victoria</span>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;By our sooth,&quot; said the King, &quot;he shall have a silver cup.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">One was forthwith requisitioned from the nearest silversmith&#39;s,
+and this it is which now adorns the sideboard in the best parlour at
+St. Margaret&#39;s House, Victoria Street, S.W.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">These interesting reminiscences of family history <span class="smcap">George Christopher
+Trout</span> recited to a charmed House in support of proposed
+new Clause, moved by <span class="smcap">Dick Webster</span>, exempting from estate duty
+heirlooms under settlement. <span class="smcap">Squire of Malwood</span>, usually impervious
+to argument in favour of alterations in his prized Budget,
+evidently moved. If <span class="smcap">Bartley</span> had only thought of bringing the cup
+with him, had at this moment produced it from under his cloak, and
+flashed it forth on gaze of House, the Clause would have been added,
+and the cup, Estate-duty free, would have passed on through the ages,
+telling its simple story to successive strata of the <span class="smcap">Bartley</span> family.
+As it was, <span class="smcap">Squire</span> stood firm, and <span class="smcap">Webster&#39;s</span> Clause negatived.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Couldn&#39;t do it, my dear <span class="smcap">Webster</span>,&quot; the <span class="smcap">Squire</span> found opportunity
+of saying, as he met disappointed legislator behind <span class="smcap">Speaker&#39;s</span>
+Chair. &quot;Of course I said the polite thing about <span class="smcap">Bartley&#39;s</span> Cup.
+But I wasn&#39;t thinking of that. I know very well what you had in
+mind in bringing in this Clause. The heirlooms you thought of are
+those cups and medals you won for Cambridge when, twenty-nine
+years ago, you met the Oxford Champion in the two-mile race, and
+in the one-mile spin. If we could do something in the Schedules
+specially exempting them I should be glad. Think it over, and see
+me later.&quot;</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width:40%;">
+<a href="images/035b.png"><img width="100%" src="images/035b.png" alt="" /></a> <p class="center">An Interesting Specimen. The Coleridge Caterpillar!</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Webster</span> wrung the <span class="smcap">Squire&#39;s</span> hand, and passed on, saying nothing.
+There are moments when speech is superfluous. &#39;Tis true, they
+don&#39;t often occur in House of Commons; but here was one. Let us
+cherish its memory.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page036" id="page036"></a>[pg&nbsp;036]</span></p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Business done.</i>&mdash;Considering and negativing
+new Clauses to Budget Bill.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Thursday.</i>&mdash;All the cheerfulness of to-day
+has brightened Committee-room, where question
+of issue of Writ, following on application
+for Chiltern Hundreds, is considered.
+The <span class="smcap">Squire</span> under examination for nearly
+two hours and a-half. Difficult to say which
+the more enjoyed it, the witness or the Committee.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;What is the state of a Peer pending issue
+of Writ of Summons?&quot; asked the <span class="smcap">Squire</span>,
+suddenly taking to interrogate the Committee
+assembled to question him. &quot;Is he a
+caterpillar passing through a larva, spinning
+a cocoon of silk until he reaches a condition
+where they toil not neither do they spin?&quot;
+(Here, quite by accident, his glance fell upon
+<span class="smcap">Joseph</span>, supposed to be sitting upon him in
+judicial capacity.) &quot;There is,&quot; he continued
+(and here he glanced at <span class="smcap">Prince Arthur</span>,
+smiling at the sly hit dealt at his dear friend
+<span class="smcap">Joe</span>) &quot;an opening for philosophic doubt as
+to the precise condition of this impounded
+Peer in his intermediary state.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The House still going about with millstone
+of Budget Bill round its neck, <span class="smcap">Byrne</span>,
+<span class="smcap">Butcher</span>, <span class="smcap">Beach</span>, <span class="smcap">Bowles</span> and <span class="smcap">Bartley</span>
+tugging at it, <span class="smcap">Kenyon-Slaney</span> now and then
+uttering obvious truths with air of supernatural
+wisdom. <span class="smcap">Grand Young Gardner</span>
+(address Board of Agriculture, Whitehall
+Place, S.W.) hands me scrap of paper; says
+he found it near <span class="smcap">Squire&#39;s</span> seat on Treasury
+Bench; but it doesn&#39;t look like his writing:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&quot;Two modes there are, O <span class="smcap">Byrne</span> and <span class="smcap">Butcher</span>,</p>
+<p class="i2">Our gratitude to earn:</p>
+<p>If <span class="smcap">Byrne</span> would only burn up <span class="smcap">Butcher</span>,</p>
+<p class="i2">Or <span class="smcap">Butcher</span> butcher <span class="smcap">Byrne</span>;</p>
+<p>Or both combine&mdash;yes, bless their souls&mdash;</p>
+<p>To burn and butcher <span class="smcap">Tommy Bowles</span>!&quot;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Business done.</i>&mdash;Very little.</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Friday.</i>&mdash;<span class="smcap">Temple</span> going about much as if
+on Tuesday night he had got out of his cab
+in the ordinary fashion. He didn&#39;t, you
+know. Taken out in sections through the
+upper window by couple of stalwart policemen.
+This owing to circumstance that Irish
+cab-driver having, after fashion of his
+country, saved a trot for the avenue, dashed
+up against kerbstone and overturned cab.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;Gave me a start, of course,&quot; <span class="smcap">Temple</span>
+said, as we brushed him down. &quot;Not a
+convenient way of getting out of your
+hansom. What I was afraid of was being
+disfigured. Am not a vain man, but don&#39;t
+mind telling you, <span class="smcap">Toby</span>, a scratch or a scar
+on one&#39;s face would have been exceedingly
+annoying. But I&#39;m all right, as you see.
+Hope it isn&#39;t a portent. A small thing that
+under this Government I should be overturned.
+What I fear is, that unless we
+keep our eye on them they&#39;ll overturn the
+Empire.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Business done.</i>&mdash;Not yet done with Budget.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="indent"><span class="smcap">Fashionable Information and Suggestion.</span>&mdash;The
+Duke and Duchess of <span class="smcap">Bedford</span>
+having returned from Thorney will go to
+Beds;&mdash;a delightful change, that is unless
+they are rose-beds, which are proverbially
+thorny. And &quot;the Duchess of <span class="smcap">Roxburghe</span>
+goes to Floors.&quot; No Beds here; only Floors.
+Why not combine the two establishments
+and get them both under one roof?</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;<i><span class="smcap">Nihil</span> tetiqit quod non ornavit</i>,&quot; as the
+prizefighter said of his right fist, after blacking
+his opponent&#39;s eye and breaking the bridge
+of his nose.</p>
+
+<hr class="short" />
+
+<p class="indent">&quot;The Knights of Labour&quot; seem to be
+banded together against &quot;Days of Work.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;">
+<a href="images/036.png"><img width="100%" src="images/036.png" alt="" /></a> <h3>CRUEL!</h3>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Lucullus Brown</i> (<i>on hospitable purpose intent</i>). &quot;<span class="smcap">Are you Dining anywhere to-morrow
+night?</span>&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Jones</i> (<i>not liking to absolutely &quot;give himself away&quot;</i>). &quot;<span class="smcap">Let me see</span>&quot;&mdash;(<i>considers</i>)&mdash;&quot;<span class="smcap">No;
+I&#39;m not Dining anywhere to-morrow</span>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="indent"><i>Lucullus Brown</i> (<i>seeing through the artifice</i>). &quot;<span class="smcap">Um! Poor chap! How Hungry you
+will be!</span>&quot;</p>
+
+
+<p class="right">[&quot;<i>Exeunt,&mdash;severally.</i>&quot;</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>THE ROYAL WELSH BARD.</h2>
+
+<blockquote class="note">
+[The Prince of <span class="smcap">Wales</span> was initiated as a Bard the
+other day at the Carnarvon Eisteddfod.]
+</blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>The Minstrel-Prince to his Wales has gone,</p>
+<p class="i2">In the ranks of the Bards you&#39;ll find him;</p>
+<p>His bardic cloak he has girded on,</p>
+<p class="i2">And his tame harp slung behind him.</p>
+<p>&quot;Land of Song!&quot; said the Royal Bard,</p>
+<p class="i2">&quot;You remarkably rum-spelt land, you,</p>
+<p>One Prince at least shall try very hard</p>
+<p class="i2">  To pronounce you, and understand you.&quot;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>The Prince tried hard, but the songs he heard</p>
+<p class="i2">Very soon brought his proud soul under,</p>
+<p>With twenty consonants packed in a word,</p>
+<p class="i2">And no vowels to keep them asunder!</p>
+<p>So he said to the Druid, &quot;A word with you,</p>
+<p class="i2">Your jaw must be hard as nails, Sir;</p>
+<p>Your songs may do for the bold Cymru,</p>
+<p class="i2">They&#39;ve done for the Prince of <span class="smcap">Wales</span>, Sir!&quot;</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2>GOOD WISHES.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">(<i>To Mr. and Mrs. J. M. Barrie on their
+Marriage, July 9, 1894.</i>)</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>&quot;When authors venture on a play,</p>
+<p class="i2">They have been known to find them undone,</p>
+<p>But Mr. <span class="smcap">Barrie</span> found the way</p>
+<p class="i2">To great success in <i>Walker, London</i>.</p>
+<p>A ready <span class="smcap">Toole</span> he&#39;d close at hand,</p>
+<p class="i2">And those who know her merry glance&#39;ll</p>
+<p>Not find it hard to understand</p>
+<p class="i2">How much was due to <span class="smcap">Mary Ansell</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>Her acting in the House-boat Scene</p>
+<p class="i2">Led Mr. <span class="smcap">Barrie</span> to discover</p>
+<p>He&#39;d lost his heart (although he&#39;d <i>been</i></p>
+<p class="i2">Of Lady <span class="smcap">Nicotine</span> a lover).</p>
+<p>And those who felt sweet <span class="smcap">Nanny&#39;s</span> charm,</p>
+<p class="i2">Or who in Thrums delight to tarry,</p>
+<p>Long happy life, quite free from harm,</p>
+<p class="i2">Will wish this new-formed firm of <span class="smcap">Barrie</span>.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<div class="tnote">
+<h2>Transcriber Notes:</h2>
+
+<p class="indent">Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of
+the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up
+paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate. Thus
+the page number of the illustration might not match the page number in
+the List of Illustrations, and the order of illustrations may not be the
+same in the List of Illustrations and in the book.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected
+unless otherwise noted.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">On page 25, &quot;o&quot; was changed to &quot;to&quot;.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">On page 25, &quot;Isi&quot; was changed to &quot;Is it&quot;.</p>
+
+<p class="indent">On page 31, a quotation mark was added before &quot;&#39;DOWN WITH&quot;.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume
+107, July 21st 1894, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
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+</pre>
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+</body>
+</html>
+
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@@ -0,0 +1,3182 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107,
+July 21st 1894, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107, July 21st 1894
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: May 23, 2012 [EBook #39770]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer,
+Ernest Schaal and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+VOL. 107.
+JUNE 21, 1894.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                          A RIVERSIDE LAMENT.
+
+  In my garden, where the rose
+  By the hundred gaily blows,
+  And the river freshly flows
+        Close to me,
+  I can spend the summer day
+  In a quite idyllic way;
+  Simply charming, you would say,
+        Could you see.
+
+  I am far from stuffy town,
+  Where the soots meander down,
+  And the air seems--being brown--
+        Close to me.
+  I am far from rushing train;
+  _Bradshaw_ does not bore my brain,
+  Nor, comparatively plain,
+        _A B C_.
+
+  To my punt I can repair,
+  If the weather's fairly fair,
+  But one grievance I have there;
+        Close to me,
+  As I sit and idly dream,
+  Clammy corpses ever seem
+  Floating down the placid stream
+        To the sea.
+
+  Though the boats that crowd the lock--
+  Such an animated block!--
+  Bring gay damsels, quite a flock,
+        Close to me,
+  Yet I heed not tasty togs,
+  When, as motionless as logs,
+  Float defunct and dismal dogs
+  There _aussi_.
+
+  As in Egypt at a feast,
+  With each party comes at least
+  One sad corpse, departed beast,
+        Close to me;
+  Till a Canon might go off,
+  Till a Dean might swear or scoff,
+  Or a Bishop--tip-top toff
+        In a see.
+
+  Floating to me from above,
+  If it stick, with gentle shove,
+  To my neighbour, whom I love,
+        Close to me,
+  I send on each gruesome guest.
+  Should I drag it out to rest
+  In my garden? No, I'm blest!
+        _Non, merci!_
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE 'ARDEN-ING PROCESS.
+
+_Orlando._ "TIRED, ROSALIND?" _Rosalind._ "PNEUMATICALLY."]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                          OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+"For a modest dish of camp-pie, suited to barracks and youth militant,
+commend me," quoth one of the Baron's Baronites, "to _Only a
+Drummer-Boy_, a maiden effort, and unpretentious, like its author, who
+calls himself ARTHUR AMYAND, but is really Captain ARTHUR DRUMMER
+HAGGARD. He has the rare advantage, missed by most people who write
+soldier novels, of knowing what he is talking about. If there are faults
+'to pardon in the drawing's lines,' they are faults of technique and not
+of anatomy." "The Court is with you," quoth the BARON DE B.-W.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+HOTEL NOTE.--The _chef_ at every Gordon Hotel ought to be a "_Gordon
+Bleu_."
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                      THE VOLUNTEER'S VADE MECUM.
+
+                          (_Bisley Edition._)
+
+_Question._ What is the ambition of every rifleman?
+
+_Answer._ To become an expert marksman.
+
+_Q._ How is this to be done?
+
+_A._ By practice at the regimental butts (where such accommodation
+exists), and appearing at Bisley.
+
+_Q._ Is the new site of the National Rifle Association better than the
+last?
+
+_A._ Certainly, for those who come to Bisley intend to shoot.
+
+_Q._ But did any one turn up at Wimbledon for any purpose other than
+marksmanship?
+
+_A._ Yes, for many of those who occupied the tents used their _marquees_
+merely as a suitable resting-place for light refreshments.
+
+_Q._ Is there anything of that kind at Bisley?
+
+_A._ Not much, as the nearest place of interest is a crematorium, and
+the most beautiful grounds in the neighbourhood belong to a cemetery.
+
+_Q._ Then the business of Bisley is shooting?
+
+_A._ Distinctly. Without the rifle, the place would be as melancholy as
+its companion spot, Woking.
+
+_Q._ In this place of useful work, what is the first object of the
+marksman?
+
+_A._ To score heavily, if possible; but, at any rate, to score.
+
+_Q._ Is it necessary to appear in uniform?
+
+_A._ That depends upon the regulations commanding the prize
+competitions.
+
+_Q._ What is uniform?
+
+_A._ As much or as little of the dress of a corps that a judge will
+order a marksman to adopt.
+
+_Q._ If some marksmen were paraded with their own corps, how would they
+look?
+
+_A._ They would appear to be a sorry sight.
+
+_Q._ Why would they appear to be a sorry sight?
+
+_A._ Because over a tunic would appear a straw hat, and under a
+pouch-belt fancy tweed trousers.
+
+_Q._ But surely if the Volunteers are anxious to improve themselves they
+will practise "smartness"?
+
+_A._ But they do not want to promote smartness; they want to win cups,
+or the value of cups.
+
+_Q._ What is the greatest reward that a marksman can obtain?
+
+_A._ Some hundreds of pounds.
+
+_Q._ And the smallest?
+
+_A._ A dozen of somebody's champagne, or a box of someone else's soap.
+
+_Q._ Under all the circumstances of the case, what would be an
+appropriate rule for Bisley?
+
+_A._ Look after the cup-winning, and everything else will take care of
+itself.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                     LATEST PARLIAMENTARY BETTING.
+
+                        GENERAL ELECTION STAKES.
+
+    2 to 1 on Rosebery and Ladas (coupled).
+   25 to 1 agst Harcourt's Resignation.
+   50 to 1  -- Nonconformist Conscience.
+   70 to 1  -- Budget Bill (off--75 to 1 taken).
+  100 to 1  -- Ministerial Programme.
+
+                   FOR PLACES (NEXT SESSION STAKES).
+
+   2 to 1 on Asquith for the Leadership.
+  12 to 1 agst the Labouchere Peerage.
+
+                    NEW PREMIERSHIP SELLING STAKES.
+
+   12 to 1 on Gladstone Redivivus.
+  200 to 1 agst any other.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                             AS WE LIKE IT.
+
+                          (JAQUES _resumes_.)
+
+  --All the world's upon the stage,
+  And here and there you really get a player:
+  The exits rather than the entrances
+  Are regulated by the County Council;
+  And one man in a season sees a lot--
+  Seven plays a week, including _matinees_,
+  And several acts in each. And first the infant,
+  A vernal blossom of the Garrick Caste,
+  Playing the super in his bassinet,
+  And innocently causing some chagrin
+  To Mr. ECCLES. Then there's _Archibald_,
+  _New Boy_, and nearly father to the man,
+  With mourning on his face and kicks behind,
+  Returning under strong connubial stress
+  Unwillingly to school. And next the lover,
+  Sighing like ALEXANDER for fresh fields,
+  And plunging wofully to win a kiss,
+  Even to his very eyebrows. Then the soldier,
+  Armed with strange maxims and a carpet-bag,
+  Cock-Shaw in military ironies,
+  And blowing off the bubbling repartee
+  With chocolate in his mouth. And next is _Falstaff_,
+  In fair round belly with good bolsters lined,
+  Full of wide sores, and badly cut about
+  By Windsor hussies,--modern instances
+  Of the revolting woman. Sixthly, _Charley's Aunt_.
+  Now ancient as the earth, and shifting still
+  The Penley pantaloons for ladies' gear,
+  Her fine heroic waist a world too wide
+  For the slim corset, and her manly lips,
+  Tuned to the treble of a maiden's pipe,
+  Grasping a big cigar. Last scene of all,
+  The season's close and mere oblivion;
+  Away to Europe and the provinces;
+  And London left forlorn without them all,
+  _Sans-Gene_, _Santuzza_, yea, _sans_ everything.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "A GOOD TIME COMING!"
+
+_British Farmer ("playing a game of mixed chance and skill with
+Nature")_ "I DO BELIEVE MY LUCK'S ON THE TURN!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         "A GOOD TIME COMING!"
+
+              (_And it HAS been a good time coming._)
+
+    ["The game of mixed chance and skill which the farmer plays each
+    year with Nature is still undecided; but, if the farmer wins,
+    his winnings will be large indeed."
+                              --_The "Times" on Farming Prospects._]
+
+                       _British Farmer, loq.:_--
+
+  Bless my old bones!--they're weary ones, wherefore I takes small
+        shame--
+  For the first time for many a year mine _looks_ a winning game!
+  A "bumper" harvest? Blissful thought! For long I've been fair stuck,
+  But now I really hope I see a change in my bad luck.
+  True, my opponent is a chap 'tis doosed hard to match.
+  I seed a picture once of one a playing 'gainst Old Scratch,
+  And oftentimes I feels like that, a-sticking all together,
+  Against that demon-dicer whom we know as British Weather!
+  What use of ploughs and patience, boys, or skill, and seed, and
+        sickle,
+  'Gainst frost, and rain, and blighted grain, and all that's foul and
+        fickle?
+  When the fly is on the turmuts, and the blight is on the barley,
+  And meadows show like sodden swamps, a farmer do get snarley.
+  But now the crops from hay to hops show promising of plenty,
+  A-doubling last year's average, plus a extry ten or twenty.
+  And straw is good, uncommon so, and barley, wheat and oats, Sir,
+  Make a rare show o'er whose rich glow the long-tried farmer gloats,
+        Sir!
+  Beans ain't so bad, spite o' May frosts; turnips and swedes look
+        topping;
+  Though the frost and fly the mangolds try, and the taters won't be
+        whopping.
+  Those poor unlucky taters! If there's any mischief going,
+  They cop their share, and how they'll fare this year there ain't no
+        knowing;
+  And peas is good, and hops is bad, or baddish. But, by jingo!
+  The sight o' the hay as I saw to-day is as good as a glass of stingo.
+  Pastures and meadows promise prime, well nigh the country over,
+  Though them as depend on their clover-crop will hardly be in clover.
+  But take 'em all, the big and small, the cereals, roots, and grasses,
+  There's a lump o' cheer for the farmers' hearts, and the farmers'
+        wives and lasses;
+  If only him I'm playing against--well, p'r'aps I'd best be civil,--
+  If he isn't JEMMY SQUAREFOOT though, he has the _luck_ o' the divil.
+  With his rain and storm and cold and hot, and his host of insect
+        horrors,
+  He has the pull, and our bright to-days may be spiled by black
+        to-morrers.
+  A cove like him with looks so grim, and flies, and such philistians,
+  Is no fair foe for farmer chaps as is mortial men and Christians.
+  Look at him damply glowering there with a eye like a hungry vulture!
+  With his blights at hand, and his floods to command, he's the scourge
+        of Agriculture.
+  But howsomever, although he's clever, luck's all, and mine seems
+        turning,
+  Oh! for a few more fair fine weeks, not swamped, nor yet too burning,
+  When the sun shines sweet on the slanting wheat, with the bees through
+        the clover humming,
+  And us farmer chaps with a cheery heart _will_ sing "_There's a good
+        time coming!_"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                            A MODERN MADAME.
+
+              (_According to the New School of Teachers._)
+
+She believes in nothing but herself, and never accepts her own
+personality seriously.
+
+She has aspirations after the impossible, and is herself far from
+probable; she regards her husband as an unnecessary evil, and her
+children as disturbances without compensating advantages.
+
+She writes more than she reads and seldom scribbles anything.
+
+She has no feelings, and yet has a yearning after the intense.
+
+She is the antithesis of her grandmother, and has made further
+development in generations to come quite impossible.
+
+She thinks without the thoughts of a male, and yet has lost the
+comprehension of a female.
+
+To sum up, she is hardly up to the standard of a man, and yet has sunk
+several fathoms below the level of a woman.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+MEM. AT LORD'S DURING THE ETON AND HARROW, FRIDAY, JULY 13. (_It rained
+the better part, which became the worse part, of the day._)--Not much
+use trying to do anything with any "match" in the wet.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: TO GOLFERS.
+
+SUGGESTION FOR A RAINY DAY. SPILLIKINS ON A GRAND SCALE.]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                        WHAT WE MAY EXPECT SOON.
+
+_By Our Own Wire._--Dispute broken out between local employer of
+labour--Shoemaker with two apprentices--and his hands. One apprentice
+won't work with t'other. Shoemaker locked out both.
+
+_Later News._--Dispute developing. Amalgamated Association of Trade
+Unions sent fifty thousand men with rifles into town. Also park of
+artillery. Arbitration suggested.
+
+_Special Telegram._--Federated Society of Masters occupying Market Place
+and principal streets with Gatling guns. Expresses itself willing to
+accept Arbitration in principle.
+
+_A Day After._--Conflicts to-day between opposing forces. Streets
+resemble battle-field. Authorities announce--"will shortly act with
+vigour." Enrolled ten extra policemen. Police, including extra ten,
+captured by rioters, and locked up in their own cells. Business--except
+of undertakers--at standstill.
+
+_Latest Developments._--More conflicts, deaths, outrages, incendiarism.
+Central Government telegraphs to Shoemaker to take back both apprentices
+to stop disastrous disorder. No reply. Shoemaker and both apprentices
+been killed in riots.
+
+_Close of the Struggle._--Stock of gunpowder exhausted. Both sides
+inclined to accept compromise. Board of Conciliation formed. Survivors
+of employers and employed shake hands. Town irretrievably ruined, but
+peace firmly re-established.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+WHAT! ALREADY!--"I'm afraid," said Mrs. R., "that the new Tower Bridge
+is in a bad way. I hear it said, of course I do not know with what
+truth, that it has 'bascules.' Now weren't they the insects that
+destroyed the crops one year and gave so many persons the influenza? I
+think you'll find I'm right."
+
+                                 * * *
+
+EPIGRAMMATIC DESCRIPTION, BY A BILLIARD PLAYER, OF THE SELECTION OF THE
+CHIEF MINSTREL TO BE THE RECIPIENT OF A PRIZE AT THE RECENT
+EISTEDDFOD.--"_Spot Bard._"
+
+                                 * * *
+
+ACCIDENTS IN OUR ROTTENEST ROTTEN ROW.--The sooner the cause (_i.e._
+Rotten Row itself) of the numerous complaints is _well grounded_, the
+better for the equestrians.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+NATIONAL REFLECTION (SUGGESTED BY RECENT YACHT-RACE).--It is of small
+use BRITANNIA being BRITANNIA unless she be also Vigilant.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                            LYRE AND LANCET.
+
+                         (_A Story in Scenes._)
+
+                     PART III.--THE TWO ANDROMEDAS.
+
+    SCENE III.--_Opposite a Railway Bookstall at a London Terminus._
+                      TIME--_Saturday_, 4.25 P.M.
+
+_Drysdale_ (_to his friend_, GALFRID UNDERSHELL, _whom he is "seeing
+off"_). Twenty minutes to spare; time enough to lay in any quantity of
+light literature.
+
+_Undershell (in a head voice)._ I fear the merely ephemeral does not
+appeal to me. But I should like to make a little experiment. (_To the
+Bookstall Clerk._) A--do you happen to have a copy left of CLARION
+BLAIR'S _Andromeda_?
+
+_Clerk._ Not in stock, Sir. Never 'eard of the book, but daresay I could
+get it for you. Here's a Detective Story we're sellin' like 'ot
+cakes--_The Man with the Missing Toe_--very cleverly written story, Sir.
+
+[Illustration: "Here 's a detective story we're sellin' like 'ot
+cakes."]
+
+_Und._ I merely wished to know--that was all. (_Turning with resigned
+disgust to_ DRYSDALE.) Just think of it, my dear fellow. At a bookstall
+like this one feels the pulse, as it were, of Contemporary Culture; and
+here my _Andromeda_, which no less an authority than the _Daily
+Chronicle_ hailed as the uprising of a new and splendid era in English
+Songmaking, a Poetic Renascence, my poor _Andromeda_ is trampled
+underfoot by--(_choking_)--Men with Missing Toes! What a satire on our
+so-called Progress!
+
+_Drys._ That a purblind public should prefer a Shilling Shocker for
+railway reading when for a modest half-guinea they might obtain a
+numbered volume of Coming Poetry on hand-made paper! It _does_ seem
+incredible,--but they do. Well, if they can't read _Andromeda_ on the
+journey, they can at least peruse a stinger on it in this week's
+_Saturday_. Seen it?
+
+_Und._ No. I don't vex my soul by reading criticisms on my work. I am no
+KEATS. They may howl--but they will not kill _me_. By the way, the
+_Speaker_ had a most enthusiastic notice last week.
+
+_Drys._ So you saw _that_ then? But you're right not to mind the others.
+When a fellow's contrived to hang on to the Chariot of Fame, he can't
+wonder if a few rude and envious beggars call out "Whip behind!" eh? You
+don't want to get in yet? Suppose we take a turn up to the end of the
+platform.                                                [_They do._
+
+    JAMES SPURRELL, M.R.C.V.S., _enters with his friend_, THOMAS
+    TANRAKE, _of_ HURDELL AND TANRAKE, _Job and Riding Masters,
+    Mayfair_.
+
+_Spurrell._ Yes, it's lucky for me old SPAVIN being laid up like
+this--gives me a regular little outing, do you see? going down to a
+swell place like this Wyvern Court, and being put up there for a day or
+two! I shouldn't wonder if they do you very well in the housekeeper's
+room. (_To_ Clerk.) Give me a _Pink 'Un_ and last week's _Dog Fancier's
+Guide_.
+
+_Clerk._ We've returned the unsold copies. Could give you _this_ week's;
+or there's _The Rabbit and Poultry Breeder's Journal_.
+
+_Spurr._ Oh, rabbits be blowed! (To TANRAKE.) I wanted you to see that
+notice they put in of _Andromeda_ and me, with my photo and all; it said
+she was the best bull-bitch they'd seen for many a day, and fully
+deserved her first prize.
+
+_Tanrake._ She's a rare good bitch, and no mistake. But what made you
+call her such an outlandish name?
+
+_Spurr._ Well, I _was_ going to call her _Sal_; but a chap at the
+College thought the other would look more stylish if I ever meant to
+exhibit her. _Andromeda_ was one of them Roman goddesses, you know.
+
+_Tanr._ Oh, I knew _that_ right enough. Come and have a drink before you
+start--just for luck--not that you want _that_.
+
+_Spurr._ I'm lucky enough in most things, TOM; in everything except
+love. I told you about that girl, you know--EMMA--and my being as good
+as engaged to her, and then, all of a sudden, she went off abroad and
+I've never seen or had a line from her since. Can't call _that_ luck,
+you know. Well, I won't say no to a glass of something.
+
+                            [_They disappear into the Refreshment Room._
+
+         _The_ Countess of CANTIRE _enters with her daughter_,
+                          Lady MAISIE MULL.
+
+_Lady Cantire_ (_to_ Footman). Get a compartment for us, and two
+foot-warmers, and a second-class as near ours as you can for PHILLIPSON;
+then come back here. Stay, I'd better give you PHILLIPSON'S ticket.
+(_The_ Footman _disappears in the crowd._) Now we must get something to
+read on the journey. (_To_ Clerk.) I want a book of some sort--no
+rubbish, mind; something serious and improving, and _not_ a work of
+fiction.
+
+_Clerk._ Exactly so, Ma'am. Let me see. Ah, here's _Alone with the 'Airy
+Ainoo_. How would you like _that_?
+
+_Lady Cant._ (_with decision_). I should not like it at all.
+
+_Clerk._ I quite understand. Well, I can give you _Three 'Undred Ways of
+Dressing the Cold Mutton_--useful little book for a family, redooced to
+one and ninepence.
+
+_Lady Cant._ Thank you. I think I will wait until I am reduced to one
+and ninepence.
+
+_Clerk._ Precisely. What do you say to _Seven 'Undred Side-splitters for
+Sixpence_? 'Ighly yumorous, I assure you.
+
+_Lady Cant._ Are these times to split our sides, with so many serious
+social problems pressing for solution? You are presumably not without
+intelligence; do you never reflect upon the responsibility you incur in
+assisting to circulate trivial and frivolous trash of this sort?
+
+_Clerk_ (_dubiously_). Well, I can't say as I do, particular, Ma'am. I'm
+paid to sell the books--I don't _select_ 'em.
+
+_Lady Cant._ That is _no_ excuse for you--you ought to exercise some
+discrimination on your own account, instead of pressing people to buy
+what can do them no possible good. You can give me a _Society Snippets_.
+
+_Lady Maisie._ Mamma! A penny paper that says such rude things about the
+Royal Family!
+
+_Lady Cant._ It's always instructive to know what these creatures are
+saying about one, my dear, and it's astonishing how they manage to find
+out the things they do. Ah, here's GRAVENER coming back. He's got us a
+carriage, and we'd better get in.
+
+                [_She and her daughter enter a first-class compartment_;
+                    UNDERSHELL _and_ DRYSDALE _return_.
+
+_Drys._ (_to_ UNDERSHELL). Well, I don't see now where the insolence
+comes in. These people have invited you to stay with them----
+
+_Und._ But why? Not because they appreciate my work--which they probably
+only half understand--but out of mere idle curiosity to see what manner
+of strange beast a Poet may be! And _I_ don't know this Lady
+CULVERIN--never met her in my life! What the deuce does she mean by
+sending me an invitation? Why should these smart women suppose that they
+are entitled to send for a Man of Genius, as if he was their _lackey?_
+Answer me that!
+
+_Drys._ Perhaps the delusion is encouraged by the fact that Genius
+occasionally condescends to answer the bell.
+
+_Und._ (_reddening_). Do you imagine I am going down to this place
+simply to please _them_?
+
+_Drys._ I should think it a doubtful kindness, in your present frame of
+mind; and, as you are hardly going to please yourself, wouldn't it be
+more dignified, on the whole, not to go at all?
+
+_Und._ You never _did_ understand me! Sometimes I think I was born to
+be misunderstood! But you might do me the justice to believe that
+I am not going from merely snobbish motives. May I not feel that
+such a recognition as this is a tribute less to my poor self than to
+Literature, and that, as such, I have scarcely the _right_ to decline
+it?
+
+_Drys._ Ah, if you put it in that way, I am silenced, of course.
+
+_Und._ Or what if I am going to show these Patricians that--Poet of the
+People as I am--they can neither patronise nor cajole me?
+
+_Drys._ Exactly, old chap--what if you _are_?
+
+_Und._ I don't say that I may not have another reason--a--a rather
+romantic one--but you would only sneer if I told you! I know you think
+me a poor creature whose head has been turned by an undeserved success.
+
+_Drys._ You're not going to try to pick a quarrel with an old chum, are
+you? Come, you know well enough I don't think anything of the sort. I've
+always said you had the right stuff in you, and would show it some day;
+there are even signs of it in _Andromeda_ here and there; but you'll do
+better things than that, if you'll only let some of the wind out of your
+head. I like you, old fellow, and that's just why it riles me to see you
+taking yourself so devilish seriously on the strength of a little volume
+of verse which has been "boomed" for all it's worth, and considerably
+more. You've only got your immortality on a short repairing lease at
+present, old boy!
+
+_Und._ (_with bitterness_). I am fortunate in possessing such a candid
+friend. But I mustn't keep you here any longer.
+
+_Drys._ Very well. I suppose you're going first? Consider the feelings
+of the CULVERIN footman at the other end!
+
+_Und._ (_as he fingers a first-class ticket in his pocket_). You have a
+very low view of human nature! (_Here he remarks a remarkably pretty
+face at a second-class window close by._) As it _happens_, I am
+travelling second.                                   [_He gets in._
+
+_Drys._ (_at the window_). Well, good-bye, old chap. Good luck to you at
+Wyvern, and remember--wear your livery with as good a grace as possible.
+
+_Und._ I do not intend to wear any livery whatever.
+
+     [_The owner of the pretty face regards_ UNDERSHELL _with interest._
+
+_Spurr_. (_coming out of the Refreshment Room_). What, second? with all
+my exes. paid? Not _likely_! I'm going to travel in style this journey.
+No--not a smoker; don't want to create a bad impression, you know. This
+will do for me.
+
+        [_He gets into a compartment occupied by_ Lady CANTIRE _and her
+            daughter._
+
+_Tanr._ (_at the window_). There--you're off now. Pleasant journey to
+you, old man. Hope you'll enjoy yourself at this Wyvern Court you're
+going to--and I say, don't forget to send me that notice of _Andromeda_
+when you get back!
+
+      [_The_ Countess _and_ Lady MAISIE _start slightly; the train moves
+            out of the station._
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: 'ARRY AT BISLEY.
+
+'_Arry_ (_to 'Arriet_). "OH, I SY! WHAT SEEDS THEM MUST BE TO GROW A
+LAMP-POST!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                      THE LATEST GREAT YACHT RACE.
+
+                    (_By our own Nautical Special._)
+
+DEAR SIR,--The captain went on board the gallant _Naughty Lass_ with his
+Wind Lass. A Wind Lass is short for "Winn'd Lass," _i.e._ a Lass he has
+won. I think her name is "POLL." The Captain says he is always true to
+her, and nothing will ever induce him to leave his dear Wind Lass ashore
+when he's afloat. Noble sentiment, but unpractical. The fact is (as
+whispered) the Wind Lass is jealous of the _Naughty Lass_, and won't let
+the Captain go alone. When the other Captain went on board the rival of
+the gallant _Naughty Lass_, the _Anne Nemone_, and "the crafty ones," as
+they call the sailors "in the know," were ready to bet any money on the
+_Anne Nemone_. Both cutters "cut" (hence the name) well away from each
+other at the start, and a fresh breeze coming up (the stale one had been
+got rid of) there was a lot of fore-reaching, until the Captain, who is
+an old hand at this sort of thing, sent round steward with brandy. "All
+hands for grog!" was then the order of the day, and we just managed to
+clear Muddle Point, leaving the home-marked (or "home-made," I forget
+which is the technical term, but I suppose the latter, as she was built
+on the neighbouring premises) boat well to windward. After a free reach
+in this weather down to Boot Shore--where the vessel heeled over a bit,
+but nothing to speak of, as it was soon remedied by a cobble that was
+close at hand--the _Naughty Lass_ lifted her head-sails, and away we
+went for Incog Bay, where nobody knew us, or we should have been
+received with three times three.
+
+At this moment the _Anne Nemone_, racing close to us, let out a right
+good "gybe," which was in execrable taste, I admit, but which ought not
+to have called for any retort from the captain's Wind Lass, who gave it
+her hot and strong, and threatened to haul her over the coal-scuttlers.
+Fortunately we were away again, and there was no time for opposite
+gybes. (I spell "gybes" in the old English nautical fashion, but, as I
+ascertain, it is precisely the same as "jibes.") Sailors' language is a
+bit odd; they don't mean anything, I know--it's only professional;
+still, as reporting the matter to ears polite, I scarcely like to set
+down in full _all_ I heard. At 1 P.M. all hands were piped for luncheon,
+and we had spinnakers cooked in their skins (they are a sort of bean),
+with a rare nautical dish called "Booms and Bacon." Fine! I did enjoy
+it! But then I'm an old hand at this sort of thing,--luncheon on board,
+I mean; for there's scarcely a board, be it sea board or other board,
+or, in fact, any boarding establishment, that I don't know. But "yeo ho!
+my boys! and avast!" for are we not still racing? We are!!
+
+We passed The Bottle at 2.30 P.M. What had become of the _Anne Nemone_ I
+don't know, and probably we should never have seen her again had not our
+captain, who was trying to sight the port after passing The Bottle,
+stood on the wrong tack, which ran into his boot and hurt him awfully.
+He was carried below, and we gathered round him as he turned to the
+_Naughty Lass_ and murmured--but POLLY objected that there was nothing
+to murmur about or to grumble at, and that the sooner he stumbled on
+deck the better it would be for the race. So up rose our brave captain,
+took a stiff draught of weather bilge (which is the best preventive of
+sea-sickness), and calling for his first mate, Mr. JACK YARD TOPSAIL,
+told him to "stand away," which I could quite understand, for JACK YARD
+TOPSAIL is a regular salt, full of tar, rum, 'baccy, and everything that
+can make life sweet to _him_, but not to his immediate neighbours. So
+"stand away" and not "stand by" it was, and when we got to Squeams Bay
+the sailors took a short hitch (it is necessary occasionally--but I
+cannot say more--lady-readers being present), and we went streaking away
+like a side of bacon on a fine day.
+
+"Are we winning?" asks POLLY, the Wind Lass. "_You_ look winning!" I
+reply, politely. "By how much?" she inquires, just tucking up her
+skirts, and showing a trim ankle. The Captain, with his glass to his
+eye, and looking down, answers, "The fifth of a long leg!" I never saw a
+woman so angry! "I haven't!" she exclaimed; and there would have been a
+row, and we should never have won, as we did splendidly, had not the
+"First Officer" (just as they name the supernumeraries in a play) come
+up and reminded Pretty POLLY that she wasn't the only mate the Captain
+had on board. "Where's the other?" she cried, in a fury. "Below!"
+answered the First Officer, and down went POLLY, not to re-appear again
+until all was over, and our victorious binnacle was waving proudly from
+the fore-top-gallant. At the finish we went clean into harbour, without
+a speck on our forecastle, or a stain on our character. I wire you the
+account of this great race, and am (Rule BRITANNIA!)
+                                                        Yours,
+                                        "EVERY OTHER INCH A SAILOR!"
+
+P.S.--I am informed that after I left the vessel--in fact it was next
+day--a Burgee was run up at the mast head. I suppose some sort of
+court-martial was held first, and that the Burgee (poor wretch!) was
+caught red-handed. Still, in these days, this sort of proceeding does
+sound rather tyrannical. High-masted justice, eh? Well, sea-dogs will be
+sea-dogs. I don't exactly know what a Burgee is, but I fancy he is
+something between a Buccaneer and a Bargee; a sort of river-and-sea
+pirate. But I fear it is a landsman!! Burgee, masculine (and probably
+husband) of Burgess!! If so, there _will_ be a row!
+                                           YOURS AS BEFORE THE MAST.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "A FRIEND IN NEED--"
+
+ANARCHIST. "'ELP! 'ELP! PER-LICE!!"
+
+CONSTABLE. "'DOWN WITH EVERYTHING,' INDEED! LUCKY FOR _YOU_ YOU HAVEN'T
+'DOWN'D' _ME_!!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                           A FRIEND IN NEED;
+
+                  _Or, The Lawbreaker's Last Refuge._
+
+    Sure stranger irony life never saw
+    Than Lawlessness low suppliant to the Law!
+
+                  _Guardian of Order soliloquiseth:_--
+
+  "Down with Everything!" Ah, yes!
+    That's the sort o' rot you jaw!
+  You'd be in a tidy mess
+    If you'd downed with good old Law.
+  Funniest job we have to do,
+  Is to "save" such scamps as you.
+
+  "Down with Everything!" Spout on!
+    I, who stand for Law, stand by.
+  You may want me ere you've done.
+    Somethink in that workman's eye,
+  And the clenching of his fist,
+  Ought to put you on the twist.
+
+  Think you're fetching of 'em fine
+    With your tommy-rotten patter?
+  Think you've got 'em in a line,
+    Or as near as doesn't matter?
+  Won't you feel in a rare stew
+  If they take to downing _you_?
+
+  Downing is a sort o' game
+    Two can play at _here_--thanks be!
+  Spin your lead out! Don't let shame,
+    Common sense, or courtesy,
+  Put the gag on your red rag;
+  Flourish it--like your Red Flag!
+
+  How they waggle, flag and tongue!
+    Proud o' that same bit of bunting?
+  See the glances on you flung?
+    Hear the British workman grunting?
+  He is none too fond, that chap,
+  Of rank rot and the Red Cap!
+
+  Perched upon a noodle's nob,
+    Minds me of an organ-monkey!--
+  If a workman will not _rob_,
+    You denounce him as a "flunkey."
+  Some of 'em know what that means.
+  Mind your eye! They'll give you beans!
+
+  Ah! I thought so. Gone too fur!
+    Set the British Workman booing.
+  "_Dirty dog!!!_" That riles you, Sir!
+    Better mind what you are doing!
+  Mug goes saffron now, with fear,
+  Round you glare! Yes, Law _is_ here!
+
+  Show your teeth, shark-like and yellow!
+    You won't frighten them, or me.
+  Ah! there comes the true mob-bellow!
+    That means mischief--as you see.
+  Mob, when mettled, goes a squelcher
+  For Thief, Anarchist _or_ Welsher.
+
+  "Help! Perlice!!" Oh! _that_'s your cry!
+    _I'm_ your friend, then,--at a pinch?
+  Funk first taste of Anarchy?
+    Law is better than--Judge Lynch?
+  Rummy this! For all his jaw
+    The lawbreaker flies to Law!
+
+  Good as a sensation novel
+    For to see you crouching there.
+  Can't these Red Flag heroes grovel?
+    Come, my Trojan, have a care.
+  Do not clasp Law's legs that way,
+  Like _Scum Goodman_ in the play.
+
+  Help? Oh, yes; I'll help you--out!--
+    "_Stand back there, please! Pass along!_"
+  Come, get up! _Now_ don't you doubt
+    If your "downing" dodge ain't wrong?
+  Anyhow 'tis, you'll agree,
+  Lucky for _you_--you've not downed _me_!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: WHAT OUR ARTIST HAS TO PUT UP WITH.
+
+_Madame la Baronne_ (_who WILL speak English_). "AND TELL ME, MISTRESS
+BROWN, YOUR CLEVARE 'USBAND, WHO 'AVE A SO BEAUTIFUL TALENT--IS HE YET
+OF ZE ROYAL ACADEMY?"
+
+_Our Artist's Wife_ (_who WILL speak French_). "OH NON, MADAME, HELAS!
+SEULEMENT, IL EST _PENDU_ CETTE ANNEE, VOUS SAVEZ!"
+
+_Madame la Baronne_ (_relapsing into her native language_).
+"OH--MADAME--QUELLE AFFREUSE NOUVELLE!"]
+
+                         A MIDSUMMER DAY-DREAM.
+
+    [_The Jackson-Harmsworth Expedition has started._]
+
+  PUNCH sleeps. The cheerful Sage has heard
+    That JACKSON is about to start.
+  His sympathies are warmly stirred,
+    He hath the _Windward's_ weal at heart.
+  He dreams: That block of dinner ice
+    Stirs arctic fancies in his breast.
+  He travels Pole-ward in a trice;
+    He joins the JACKSON-HARMSWORTH quest.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+  "All precious things, discovered late
+    To those that seek them issue forth."--
+  To find her may be JACKSON'S fate,
+    That Sleeping Beauty of the North!
+  She lieth in her icy cave
+    As still as sleep, as white as death.
+  Her look might stagger the most brave,
+    And make the stoutest hold his breath.
+
+  "The bodies and the bones of those
+    That strove in other days to pass,"
+  Are scattered o'er the spreading snows,
+    Are bleached about that sea of glass.
+  He gazes on the silent dead:
+    "They perished in their daring deeds."
+  The proverb flashes through his head,
+    "The many fail: the one succeeds."
+
+                                 * * *
+
+  _Punch_ wakes: lo! it is but a dream--
+    A vision of the Frozen Sea;
+  Yet may be it may hold a gleam
+    Of prophecy. So mote it be!
+  To JACKSON and to HARMSWORTH too
+    He brims a well-earnt bumper. "Skoal!"
+  Here's health to them and their brave crew!
+    And safe return from well-won goal!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                      THE MINX.--A POEM IN PROSE.
+
+                             [Illustration]
+
+_Poet._ It's so good of you to see me. I merely wished to ask one or two
+questions as to your career. You must have led a most interesting life.
+
+_Sphinx._ You are very inquisitive and extremely indiscreet, and I have
+always carefully avoided being interviewed. However, go on.
+
+_Poet._ I believe you can read hieroglyphs?
+
+_Sphinx._ Oh yes; I _can_, fluently, But I never do. I assure you they
+are not in the least amusing.
+
+_Poet._ No doubt you have talked with hippogriffs and basilisks?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_modestly_). I certainly _was_ in rather a smart set at one
+time. As they say, I have "known better days."
+
+_Poet._ Did you ever have any conversation with THOTH?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_loftily_). Oh, dear no! (_Mimicking._) Thoth he wath not
+conthidered quite a nice perthon. I would not allow him to be introduced
+to me.
+
+_Poet._ You were very particular?
+
+_Sphinx._ One has to be careful. The world is so censorious.
+
+_Poet._ I wonder, would you give me the pleasure of singing to me?
+"_Adrian's Gilded Barge_," for instance?
+
+_Sphinx._ You must really excuse me. I am not in good voice. By the way,
+the "Gilded Barge," as you call it, was merely a shabby sort of punt. It
+would have had no effect whatever at the Henley Regatta.
+
+_Poet._ Dear me! Is it true you played golf among the Pyramids?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_emphatically_). Perfectly untrue. You see what absurd reports
+get about!
+
+_Poet_ (_softly_). They do. What was that story about the Tyrian?
+
+_Sphinx._ Merely gossip. There was nothing in it, I assure you.
+
+_Poet._ And APIS?
+
+_Sphinx._ Oh, he sent me some flowers, and there were paragraphs about
+it--in hieroglyphs--in the society papers. That was all. But they were
+contradicted.
+
+_Poet._ You knew AMMON very well, I believe?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_frankly_). AMMON and I _were_ great pals. I used to see
+a good deal of him. He came in to tea very often--he was _quite_
+interesting. But I have not seen him for a long time. He had one
+fault--he _would_ smoke in the drawing-room. And though I hope I am not
+too conventional, I really could not allow _that_.
+
+_Poet._ How pleased they would all be to see you again! Why do you not
+go over to Egypt for the winter?
+
+_Sphinx._ The hotels at Cairo are so dreadfully expensive.
+
+_Poet._ Is it true you went tunny-fishing with ANTONY?
+
+_Sphinx._ One must draw the line somewhere! CLEOPATRA was so cross. She
+was horribly jealous, and not nearly so handsome as you might suppose,
+though she _was_ photographed as a "type of Egyptian Beauty!"
+
+_Poet._ I must thank you very much for the courteous way in which you
+have replied to my questions. And now will you forgive me if I make an
+observation? In my opinion you are not a Sphinx at all.
+
+_Sphinx_ (_indignantly_). What am I, then?
+
+_Poet._ A Minx.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                        THE LAY OF THE EXPLORER.
+
+  I USED to think that if a man
+    In any character could score a
+  Distinctly leonine success,
+    'Twould be as a returned explorer.
+
+  So, when by sixteen tigers tree'd,
+    Or when mad elephants were charging,
+  I joyed to say--"On this, some day,
+    My countrymen will be enlarging."
+
+  And when mosquitoes buzzed and bit
+    (For 'tis their pleasing nature to),
+  Or fevers floored me, still this dream
+    Helped me to suffer and to do.
+
+  I _have_ returned! Whole dusky tribes
+    I've wiped right out--such labour sweet is!--
+  And with innumerable chiefs
+    Arranged unconscionable treaties.
+
+  What's the result? I have become
+    A butt for each humanitarian,
+  Who call my exploits in the chase
+    The work of a "confessed barbarian."
+
+  And, worst of all, my rival, JONES,
+    Who'd any trick that's low and mean dare,
+  Cries--"Equatorial jungles! Pish!
+    I don't believe he's ever been there!"
+
+  So now I just "explore" Herne Bay,
+    With trippers, niggers, nurses, babies:
+  I've tried for fame. I 've gained it, too:
+    I share it with the vanished JABEZ!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+NOTE AND QUERY.--At Aldershot the QUEEN expressed herself much pleased
+with the "tattoo" all round. "IGNORAMUS" writes to inquire "if
+'tattoo-ing' is done in Indian ink or with gunpowder?"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                           RULE, "BRITANNIA."
+
+                       (_New Yachtical Version._)
+
+                H.R.H. THE P----E OF W----S _sings_:--
+
+  When _Vigilant_, at GOULD'S command,
+    Came over here to sweep the main,
+  This was the lay that thrilled the land,
+    And Yankee Doodle loved the strain--
+      Lick _Britannia!_ the fleet _Britannia_ lick!
+      And JOHNNY BULL may cut his stick.
+
+  But _Vigilant_, less fast than thee,
+    Must in her turn before thee fall,
+  _Britannia_, who hast kept the sea,
+    The dread and envy of them all.
+      Win, _Britannia_! _Britannia_ rules the waves!
+      (Though by the narrowest of shaves.)
+
+  Six races in succession show
+    The Yankee yacht has met her match;
+  Though she was hailed, not long ago,
+    The swiftest clipper of the batch.
+      Rule, _Britannia_! _Britannia_ rule the waves!
+      The most appropriate of staves!
+
+  I'm sorry poor DUNRAVEN'S crack
+    So prematurely has gone down;
+  But mine has kept the winning tack,
+    And well upheld the isle's renown.
+      Rule, _Britannia_! &c.
+
+  When JONATHAN thy match hath found,
+    He'll to our coasts again repair.
+  We'll have another friendly round,
+    With manly hearts and all things fair.
+      Rule, _Britannia_! _Britannia_ rules the waves,
+      Six sequent wins BULL'S honour saves!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                        TO ALTHEA IN THE STALLS.
+
+  From the Orchestra as I was staring
+    So wearily down at the hall,
+  The programme I held hardly caring
+    To turn, I was tired of it all!
+  For I knew 'twas a futile endeavour
+    With music my trouble to drown,
+  And I'd made up my mind that you never,
+    Ah, never, would come back to town!
+
+  When suddenly, there I beheld you
+    Yourself--ah, the joyous amaze!
+  I wonder what instinct impelled you
+    Your dreamy dark eyes to upraise,
+  That for one happy second's communing
+    Met mine that had waited so long--
+  And the wail of the violins tuning
+    It turned to a jubilant song!
+
+  'Mid organ-chords sombre and mellow
+    There breaks out a ripple of glee,
+  And the voice of the violoncello,
+    ALTHEA, is pleading for me!
+  The music is beating and surging
+    With joy no _adagio_ can drown,
+  In ecstasy all things are merging--
+    Because you have come back to town!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+THE COREAN DIFFICULTY.--"_Japan declines to withdraw._"--(_Telegram,
+Thursday, July 12_).--"Ah," observed Miss QUOTER, who is ever ready,
+"that reminds me of BYRON'S line in _Mazeppa_, quite applicable to the
+present situation--
+
+                  'Again he urges on his mild Corea.'"
+
+                                 * * *
+
+NEW WORK (_by the Chief Druid Minstrel at the Eisteddfod, dedicated to
+their Royal Highnesses_).--"_How to be Harpy in Wales._"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: PREHISTORIC PEEPS.
+
+A CRICKET MATCH. "HOWS THAT, UMPIRE?"!!]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
+
+                 EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
+
+_House of Lords, Monday, July 9._--PLAYFAIR'S leonine countenance
+habitually cheerful. But never saw him looking so pleased as when we
+walked through St. Stephen's Chapel on way to Lords just now. "From
+point of view of old House of Commons man the Lords are, I admit, a
+little unresponsive," my Lord said. "The chamber is, acoustically and
+otherwise, the sepulchre of speech. You remember the little lecture on
+margarine I delivered years ago in the Commons? Bless me, how delighted
+the House was to see the table covered with small white pots containing
+samples, with a bottle of best Dorset margarine hooked on to the Mace
+for greater convenience of reference. Often I've enchained an audience
+with my object lessons. Up to present time that monologue on margarine
+ranks as most successful. But I'll beat the record to-night. See that?"
+(Here he slapped a something bulging out from his trouser pocket.)
+"Guess what that is? Thought you couldn't. It's cultch. Know what cultch
+is?"
+
+"Not unless it's the beginning of knowledge," I said, drawing a bow, so
+to speak, at a venture. "Positive cultch, comparative culture, eh?"
+
+PLAYFAIR stared at me vacantly. "Cultch----" he said; "but no, that's
+part of the lecture. Come along to the Lords and hear it."
+
+[Illustration: Suggested Statues for the Vacant Niches in the Inner
+Lobby.
+
+No. I.--"The Majesty of the Law!"]
+
+House not in condition particularly inspiring for lecturer. Benches
+mostly empty; STANLEY of Alderley completed depletion by rambling
+speech of half an hour's duration, modestly described in Orders as "a
+question." Wanted to know how many lighthouses in England and Wales paid
+Income Tax; how many were behindhand with their rates; were Death Duties
+applicable to some of them; if so, which; and whether the tenants
+compounded for rates or otherwise. These inquiries not without interest,
+but STANLEY not chiefly remarkable for concentration of thought or
+conciseness of phrase.
+
+At length PLAYFAIR'S turn came. A flutter of interest amongst Peers as
+he was observed tugging at something in trousers pocket; hauled out what
+looked like empty oyster shell.
+
+"Ah!" said HERSCHELL, smiling, "I see the lawyers have been before us."
+
+"In moving the Second Reading of the Sea Fisheries (Shell Fish) Bill, I
+propose, if I may be permitted, to give your Lordships an object lesson.
+This particular shell," PLAYFAIR continued, holding it up between finger
+and thumb, "is covered all over with microscopic oysters. Oysters in all
+stages of growth are seen there."
+
+"Well," said the MARQUIS OF CARABAS, "if one had a twenty billion
+magnifying glass of the kind associated with the memory of _Sam Weller_,
+perhaps we might see the oysters. All I can say is, I don't see any
+worth three and sixpence a dozen. PLAYFAIR's no business to bring these
+things down here, filling House with smell of stale seaweed when his
+oysters are no bigger than a pin's head."
+
+The MARQUIS strode angrily forth. Others followed. Lecture cut short.
+
+_Business done._--Sea Fisheries (Shell Fish) Bill read a second time,
+amid unexpectedly depressing circumstances.
+
+_House of Commons, Tuesday._--SQUIRE OF MALWOOD back after a week's
+rustication. Brings glowing news of the hay crop; looks, indeed, as if
+he had been helping to make it; ruddier than a cherry; indescribable but
+unmistakable country air about him as he sits on Treasury Bench with
+folded arms, listening to the monotonous ripple of talk renewed on
+Budget Bill.
+
+                 "Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis,"
+
+says PRINCE ARTHUR, looking across at the rustic Squire.
+
+                                          "_At ille_
+              Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis aevum,"
+
+added JOKIM, with approving glance at bench behind, where the Busy B.'s
+swarm after week's rest, humming round amendments with increased vigour.
+
+Almost imperceptible movement of river goes forward. The blameless
+BARTLEY on his feet, entrancing House with particulars of a silver
+cup, prized heirloom in the humble household in Victoria Street. It
+seems that one of BARTLEY'S ancestors--he who came over with the
+Conqueror--had brought with him certain blades of buckwheat, which he
+industriously planted out on the site, then a meadow, on which the Army
+and Navy Stores now flourish. The buckwheat grew apace. One day King
+STEPHEN, passing by on a palfrey, noted the waving green expanse.
+Enquiring to whom the State was indebted for this fair prospect, a
+courtier informed him that it was "the ancestor of GEORGE CHRISTOPHER
+TROUT BARTLEY, Member for North Islington in the thirteenth Parliament
+of Queen VICTORIA."
+
+"By our sooth," said the King, "he shall have a silver cup."
+
+One was forthwith requisitioned from the nearest silversmith's, and this
+it is which now adorns the sideboard in the best parlour at St.
+Margaret's House, Victoria Street, S.W.
+
+These interesting reminiscences of family history GEORGE CHRISTOPHER
+TROUT recited to a charmed House in support of proposed new Clause,
+moved by DICK WEBSTER, exempting from estate duty heirlooms under
+settlement. SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, usually impervious to argument in favour
+of alterations in his prized Budget, evidently moved. If BARTLEY had
+only thought of bringing the cup with him, had at this moment produced
+it from under his cloak, and flashed it forth on gaze of House, the
+Clause would have been added, and the cup, Estate-duty free, would have
+passed on through the ages, telling its simple story to successive
+strata of the BARTLEY family. As it was, SQUIRE stood firm, and
+WEBSTER'S Clause negatived.
+
+"Couldn't do it, my dear WEBSTER," the SQUIRE found opportunity of
+saying, as he met disappointed legislator behind SPEAKER'S Chair. "Of
+course I said the polite thing about BARTLEY'S Cup. But I wasn't
+thinking of that. I know very well what you had in mind in bringing in
+this Clause. The heirlooms you thought of are those cups and medals you
+won for Cambridge when, twenty-nine years ago, you met the Oxford
+Champion in the two-mile race, and in the one-mile spin. If we could do
+something in the Schedules specially exempting them I should be glad.
+Think it over, and see me later."
+
+WEBSTER wrung the SQUIRE'S hand, and passed on, saying nothing. There
+are moments when speech is superfluous. 'Tis true, they don't often
+occur in House of Commons; but here was one. Let us cherish its memory.
+
+_Business done._--Considering and negativing new Clauses to Budget Bill.
+
+_Thursday._--All the cheerfulness of to-day has brightened
+Committee-room, where question of issue of Writ, following on
+application for Chiltern Hundreds, is considered. The SQUIRE under
+examination for nearly two hours and a-half. Difficult to say which the
+more enjoyed it, the witness or the Committee.
+
+[Illustration: An Interesting Specimen. The Coleridge Caterpillar!]
+
+"What is the state of a Peer pending issue of Writ of Summons?" asked
+the SQUIRE, suddenly taking to interrogate the Committee assembled to
+question him. "Is he a caterpillar passing through a larva, spinning a
+cocoon of silk until he reaches a condition where they toil not neither
+do they spin?" (Here, quite by accident, his glance fell upon JOSEPH,
+supposed to be sitting upon him in judicial capacity.) "There is," he
+continued (and here he glanced at PRINCE ARTHUR, smiling at the sly hit
+dealt at his dear friend JOE) "an opening for philosophic doubt as to
+the precise condition of this impounded Peer in his intermediary state."
+
+The House still going about with millstone of Budget Bill round its
+neck, BYRNE, BUTCHER, BEACH, BOWLES and BARTLEY tugging at it,
+KENYON-SLANEY now and then uttering obvious truths with air of
+supernatural wisdom. GRAND YOUNG GARDNER (address Board of Agriculture,
+Whitehall Place, S.W.) hands me scrap of paper; says he found it near
+SQUIRE'S seat on Treasury Bench; but it doesn't look like his writing:
+
+  "Two modes there are, O BYRNE and BUTCHER,
+    Our gratitude to earn:
+  If BYRNE would only burn up BUTCHER,
+    Or BUTCHER butcher BYRNE;
+  Or both combine--yes, bless their souls--
+  To burn and butcher TOMMY BOWLES!"
+
+_Business done._--Very little.
+
+_Friday._--TEMPLE going about much as if on Tuesday night he had got out
+of his cab in the ordinary fashion. He didn't, you know. Taken out in
+sections through the upper window by couple of stalwart policemen. This
+owing to circumstance that Irish cab-driver having, after fashion of his
+country, saved a trot for the avenue, dashed up against kerbstone and
+overturned cab.
+
+"Gave me a start, of course," TEMPLE said, as we brushed him down. "Not
+a convenient way of getting out of your hansom. What I was afraid of was
+being disfigured. Am not a vain man, but don't mind telling you, TOBY, a
+scratch or a scar on one's face would have been exceedingly annoying.
+But I'm all right, as you see. Hope it isn't a portent. A small thing
+that under this Government I should be overturned. What I fear is, that
+unless we keep our eye on them they'll overturn the Empire."
+
+_Business done._--Not yet done with Budget.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+FASHIONABLE INFORMATION AND SUGGESTION.--The Duke and Duchess of BEDFORD
+having returned from Thorney will go to Beds;--a delightful change, that
+is unless they are rose-beds, which are proverbially thorny. And "the
+Duchess of ROXBURGHE goes to Floors." No Beds here; only Floors. Why not
+combine the two establishments and get them both under one roof?
+
+                                 * * *
+
+"_NIHIL tetiqit quod non ornavit_," as the prizefighter said of his
+right fist, after blacking his opponent's eye and breaking the bridge of
+his nose.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+"The Knights of Labour" seem to be banded together against "Days of
+Work."
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: CRUEL!
+
+_Lucullus Brown_ (_on hospitable purpose intent_). "ARE YOU DINING
+ANYWHERE TO-MORROW NIGHT?"
+
+_Jones_ (_not liking to absolutely "give himself away"_). "LET ME
+SEE"--(_considers_)--"NO; I'M NOT DINING ANYWHERE TO-MORROW."
+
+_Lucullus Brown_ (_seeing through the artifice_). "UM! POOR CHAP! HOW
+HUNGRY YOU WILL BE!"
+
+                                           ["_Exeunt,--severally._"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         THE ROYAL WELSH BARD.
+
+    [The Prince of WALES was initiated as a Bard the other day at
+    the Carnarvon Eisteddfod.]
+
+  The Minstrel-Prince to his Wales has gone,
+    In the ranks of the Bards you'll find him;
+  His bardic cloak he has girded on,
+    And his tame harp slung behind him.
+  "Land of Song!" said the Royal Bard,
+    "You remarkably rum-spelt land, you,
+  One Prince at least shall try very hard
+      To pronounce you, and understand you."
+
+  The Prince tried hard, but the songs he heard
+    Very soon brought his proud soul under,
+  With twenty consonants packed in a word,
+    And no vowels to keep them asunder!
+  So he said to the Druid, "A word with you,
+    Your jaw must be hard as nails, Sir;
+  Your songs may do for the bold Cymru,
+    They've done for the Prince of WALES, Sir!"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                              GOOD WISHES.
+
+    (_To Mr. and Mrs. J. M. Barrie on their Marriage, July 9, 1894._)
+
+  "When authors venture on a play,
+    They have been known to find them undone,
+  But Mr. BARRIE found the way
+    To great success in _Walker, London_.
+  A ready TOOLE he'd close at hand,
+    And those who know her merry glance'll
+  Not find it hard to understand
+    How much was due to MARY ANSELL.
+
+  Her acting in the House-boat Scene
+    Led Mr. BARRIE to discover
+  He'd lost his heart (although he'd _been_
+    Of Lady NICOTINE a lover).
+  And those who felt sweet NANNY'S charm,
+    Or who in Thrums delight to tarry,
+  Long happy life, quite free from harm,
+    Will wish this new-formed firm of BARRIE.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber Notes:
+
+Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_.
+
+Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS.
+
+Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of
+the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.
+
+The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up
+paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate. Thus
+the page number of the illustration might not match the page number in
+the List of Illustrations, and the order of illustrations may not be the
+same in the List of Illustrations and in the book.
+
+Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected
+unless otherwise noted.
+
+On page 25, "o" was changed to "to".
+
+On page 25, "Isi" was changed to "Is it".
+
+On page 31, a quotation mark was added before "'DOWN WITH".
+
+
+
+
+
+PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+VOL. 107.
+JUNE 21, 1894.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                          A RIVERSIDE LAMENT.
+
+  In my garden, where the rose
+  By the hundred gaily blows,
+  And the river freshly flows
+        Close to me,
+  I can spend the summer day
+  In a quite idyllic way;
+  Simply charming, you would say,
+        Could you see.
+
+  I am far from stuffy town,
+  Where the soots meander down,
+  And the air seems--being brown--
+        Close to me.
+  I am far from rushing train;
+  _Bradshaw_ does not bore my brain,
+  Nor, comparatively plain,
+        _A B C_.
+
+  To my punt I can repair,
+  If the weather's fairly fair,
+  But one grievance I have there;
+        Close to me,
+  As I sit and idly dream,
+  Clammy corpses ever seem
+  Floating down the placid stream
+        To the sea.
+
+  Though the boats that crowd the lock--
+  Such an animated block!--
+  Bring gay damsels, quite a flock,
+        Close to me,
+  Yet I heed not tasty togs,
+  When, as motionless as logs,
+  Float defunct and dismal dogs
+  There _aussi_.
+
+  As in Egypt at a feast,
+  With each party comes at least
+  One sad corpse, departed beast,
+        Close to me;
+  Till a Canon might go off,
+  Till a Dean might swear or scoff,
+  Or a Bishop--tip-top toff
+        In a see.
+
+  Floating to me from above,
+  If it stick, with gentle shove,
+  To my neighbour, whom I love,
+        Close to me,
+  I send on each gruesome guest.
+  Should I drag it out to rest
+  In my garden? No, I'm blest!
+        _Non, merci!_
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE 'ARDEN-ING PROCESS.
+
+_Orlando._ "TIRED, ROSALIND?" _Rosalind._ "PNEUMATICALLY."]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                          OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+"For a modest dish of camp-pie, suited to barracks and youth militant,
+commend me," quoth one of the Baron's Baronites, "to _Only a
+Drummer-Boy_, a maiden effort, and unpretentious, like its author, who
+calls himself ARTHUR AMYAND, but is really Captain ARTHUR DRUMMER
+HAGGARD. He has the rare advantage, missed by most people who write
+soldier novels, of knowing what he is talking about. If there are faults
+'to pardon in the drawing's lines,' they are faults of technique and not
+of anatomy." "The Court is with you," quoth the BARON DE B.-W.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+HOTEL NOTE.--The _chef_ at every Gordon Hotel ought to be a "_Gordon
+Bleu_."
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                      THE VOLUNTEER'S VADE MECUM.
+
+                          (_Bisley Edition._)
+
+_Question._ What is the ambition of every rifleman?
+
+_Answer._ To become an expert marksman.
+
+_Q._ How is this to be done?
+
+_A._ By practice at the regimental butts (where such accommodation
+exists), and appearing at Bisley.
+
+_Q._ Is the new site of the National Rifle Association better than the
+last?
+
+_A._ Certainly, for those who come to Bisley intend to shoot.
+
+_Q._ But did any one turn up at Wimbledon for any purpose other than
+marksmanship?
+
+_A._ Yes, for many of those who occupied the tents used their _marquees_
+merely as a suitable resting-place for light refreshments.
+
+_Q._ Is there anything of that kind at Bisley?
+
+_A._ Not much, as the nearest place of interest is a crematorium, and
+the most beautiful grounds in the neighbourhood belong to a cemetery.
+
+_Q._ Then the business of Bisley is shooting?
+
+_A._ Distinctly. Without the rifle, the place would be as melancholy as
+its companion spot, Woking.
+
+_Q._ In this place of useful work, what is the first object of the
+marksman?
+
+_A._ To score heavily, if possible; but, at any rate, to score.
+
+_Q._ Is it necessary to appear in uniform?
+
+_A._ That depends upon the regulations commanding the prize
+competitions.
+
+_Q._ What is uniform?
+
+_A._ As much or as little of the dress of a corps that a judge will
+order a marksman to adopt.
+
+_Q._ If some marksmen were paraded with their own corps, how would they
+look?
+
+_A._ They would appear to be a sorry sight.
+
+_Q._ Why would they appear to be a sorry sight?
+
+_A._ Because over a tunic would appear a straw hat, and under a
+pouch-belt fancy tweed trousers.
+
+_Q._ But surely if the Volunteers are anxious to improve themselves they
+will practise "smartness"?
+
+_A._ But they do not want to promote smartness; they want to win cups,
+or the value of cups.
+
+_Q._ What is the greatest reward that a marksman can obtain?
+
+_A._ Some hundreds of pounds.
+
+_Q._ And the smallest?
+
+_A._ A dozen of somebody's champagne, or a box of someone else's soap.
+
+_Q._ Under all the circumstances of the case, what would be an
+appropriate rule for Bisley?
+
+_A._ Look after the cup-winning, and everything else will take care of
+itself.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                     LATEST PARLIAMENTARY BETTING.
+
+                        GENERAL ELECTION STAKES.
+
+    2 to 1 on Rosebery and Ladas (coupled).
+   25 to 1 agst Harcourt's Resignation.
+   50 to 1  -- Nonconformist Conscience.
+   70 to 1  -- Budget Bill (off--75 to 1 taken).
+  100 to 1  -- Ministerial Programme.
+
+                   FOR PLACES (NEXT SESSION STAKES).
+
+   2 to 1 on Asquith for the Leadership.
+  12 to 1 agst the Labouchere Peerage.
+
+                    NEW PREMIERSHIP SELLING STAKES.
+
+   12 to 1 on Gladstone Redivivus.
+  200 to 1 agst any other.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                             AS WE LIKE IT.
+
+                          (JAQUES _resumes_.)
+
+  --All the world's upon the stage,
+  And here and there you really get a player:
+  The exits rather than the entrances
+  Are regulated by the County Council;
+  And one man in a season sees a lot--
+  Seven plays a week, including _matinees_,
+  And several acts in each. And first the infant,
+  A vernal blossom of the Garrick Caste,
+  Playing the super in his bassinet,
+  And innocently causing some chagrin
+  To Mr. ECCLES. Then there's _Archibald_,
+  _New Boy_, and nearly father to the man,
+  With mourning on his face and kicks behind,
+  Returning under strong connubial stress
+  Unwillingly to school. And next the lover,
+  Sighing like ALEXANDER for fresh fields,
+  And plunging wofully to win a kiss,
+  Even to his very eyebrows. Then the soldier,
+  Armed with strange maxims and a carpet-bag,
+  Cock-Shaw in military ironies,
+  And blowing off the bubbling repartee
+  With chocolate in his mouth. And next is _Falstaff_,
+  In fair round belly with good bolsters lined,
+  Full of wide sores, and badly cut about
+  By Windsor hussies,--modern instances
+  Of the revolting woman. Sixthly, _Charley's Aunt_.
+  Now ancient as the earth, and shifting still
+  The Penley pantaloons for ladies' gear,
+  Her fine heroic waist a world too wide
+  For the slim corset, and her manly lips,
+  Tuned to the treble of a maiden's pipe,
+  Grasping a big cigar. Last scene of all,
+  The season's close and mere oblivion;
+  Away to Europe and the provinces;
+  And London left forlorn without them all,
+  _Sans-Gene_, _Santuzza_, yea, _sans_ everything.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "A GOOD TIME COMING!"
+
+_British Farmer ("playing a game of mixed chance and skill with
+Nature")_ "I DO BELIEVE MY LUCK'S ON THE TURN!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         "A GOOD TIME COMING!"
+
+              (_And it HAS been a good time coming._)
+
+    ["The game of mixed chance and skill which the farmer plays each
+    year with Nature is still undecided; but, if the farmer wins,
+    his winnings will be large indeed."
+                              --_The "Times" on Farming Prospects._]
+
+                       _British Farmer, loq.:_--
+
+  Bless my old bones!--they're weary ones, wherefore I takes small
+        shame--
+  For the first time for many a year mine _looks_ a winning game!
+  A "bumper" harvest? Blissful thought! For long I've been fair stuck,
+  But now I really hope I see a change in my bad luck.
+  True, my opponent is a chap 'tis doosed hard to match.
+  I seed a picture once of one a playing 'gainst Old Scratch,
+  And oftentimes I feels like that, a-sticking all together,
+  Against that demon-dicer whom we know as British Weather!
+  What use of ploughs and patience, boys, or skill, and seed, and
+        sickle,
+  'Gainst frost, and rain, and blighted grain, and all that's foul and
+        fickle?
+  When the fly is on the turmuts, and the blight is on the barley,
+  And meadows show like sodden swamps, a farmer do get snarley.
+  But now the crops from hay to hops show promising of plenty,
+  A-doubling last year's average, plus a extry ten or twenty.
+  And straw is good, uncommon so, and barley, wheat and oats, Sir,
+  Make a rare show o'er whose rich glow the long-tried farmer gloats,
+        Sir!
+  Beans ain't so bad, spite o' May frosts; turnips and swedes look
+        topping;
+  Though the frost and fly the mangolds try, and the taters won't be
+        whopping.
+  Those poor unlucky taters! If there's any mischief going,
+  They cop their share, and how they'll fare this year there ain't no
+        knowing;
+  And peas is good, and hops is bad, or baddish. But, by jingo!
+  The sight o' the hay as I saw to-day is as good as a glass of stingo.
+  Pastures and meadows promise prime, well nigh the country over,
+  Though them as depend on their clover-crop will hardly be in clover.
+  But take 'em all, the big and small, the cereals, roots, and grasses,
+  There's a lump o' cheer for the farmers' hearts, and the farmers'
+        wives and lasses;
+  If only him I'm playing against--well, p'r'aps I'd best be civil,--
+  If he isn't JEMMY SQUAREFOOT though, he has the _luck_ o' the divil.
+  With his rain and storm and cold and hot, and his host of insect
+        horrors,
+  He has the pull, and our bright to-days may be spiled by black
+        to-morrers.
+  A cove like him with looks so grim, and flies, and such philistians,
+  Is no fair foe for farmer chaps as is mortial men and Christians.
+  Look at him damply glowering there with a eye like a hungry vulture!
+  With his blights at hand, and his floods to command, he's the scourge
+        of Agriculture.
+  But howsomever, although he's clever, luck's all, and mine seems
+        turning,
+  Oh! for a few more fair fine weeks, not swamped, nor yet too burning,
+  When the sun shines sweet on the slanting wheat, with the bees through
+        the clover humming,
+  And us farmer chaps with a cheery heart _will_ sing "_There's a good
+        time coming!_"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                            A MODERN MADAME.
+
+              (_According to the New School of Teachers._)
+
+She believes in nothing but herself, and never accepts her own
+personality seriously.
+
+She has aspirations after the impossible, and is herself far from
+probable; she regards her husband as an unnecessary evil, and her
+children as disturbances without compensating advantages.
+
+She writes more than she reads and seldom scribbles anything.
+
+She has no feelings, and yet has a yearning after the intense.
+
+She is the antithesis of her grandmother, and has made further
+development in generations to come quite impossible.
+
+She thinks without the thoughts of a male, and yet has lost the
+comprehension of a female.
+
+To sum up, she is hardly up to the standard of a man, and yet has sunk
+several fathoms below the level of a woman.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+MEM. AT LORD'S DURING THE ETON AND HARROW, FRIDAY, JULY 13. (_It rained
+the better part, which became the worse part, of the day._)--Not much
+use trying to do anything with any "match" in the wet.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: TO GOLFERS.
+
+SUGGESTION FOR A RAINY DAY. SPILLIKINS ON A GRAND SCALE.]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                        WHAT WE MAY EXPECT SOON.
+
+_By Our Own Wire._--Dispute broken out between local employer of
+labour--Shoemaker with two apprentices--and his hands. One apprentice
+won't work with t'other. Shoemaker locked out both.
+
+_Later News._--Dispute developing. Amalgamated Association of Trade
+Unions sent fifty thousand men with rifles into town. Also park of
+artillery. Arbitration suggested.
+
+_Special Telegram._--Federated Society of Masters occupying Market Place
+and principal streets with Gatling guns. Expresses itself willing to
+accept Arbitration in principle.
+
+_A Day After._--Conflicts to-day between opposing forces. Streets
+resemble battle-field. Authorities announce--"will shortly act with
+vigour." Enrolled ten extra policemen. Police, including extra ten,
+captured by rioters, and locked up in their own cells. Business--except
+of undertakers--at standstill.
+
+_Latest Developments._--More conflicts, deaths, outrages, incendiarism.
+Central Government telegraphs to Shoemaker to take back both apprentices
+to stop disastrous disorder. No reply. Shoemaker and both apprentices
+been killed in riots.
+
+_Close of the Struggle._--Stock of gunpowder exhausted. Both sides
+inclined to accept compromise. Board of Conciliation formed. Survivors
+of employers and employed shake hands. Town irretrievably ruined, but
+peace firmly re-established.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+WHAT! ALREADY!--"I'm afraid," said Mrs. R., "that the new Tower Bridge
+is in a bad way. I hear it said, of course I do not know with what
+truth, that it has 'bascules.' Now weren't they the insects that
+destroyed the crops one year and gave so many persons the influenza? I
+think you'll find I'm right."
+
+                                 * * *
+
+EPIGRAMMATIC DESCRIPTION, BY A BILLIARD PLAYER, OF THE SELECTION OF THE
+CHIEF MINSTREL TO BE THE RECIPIENT OF A PRIZE AT THE RECENT
+EISTEDDFOD.--"_Spot Bard._"
+
+                                 * * *
+
+ACCIDENTS IN OUR ROTTENEST ROTTEN ROW.--The sooner the cause (_i.e._
+Rotten Row itself) of the numerous complaints is _well grounded_, the
+better for the equestrians.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+NATIONAL REFLECTION (SUGGESTED BY RECENT YACHT-RACE).--It is of small
+use BRITANNIA being BRITANNIA unless she be also Vigilant.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                            LYRE AND LANCET.
+
+                         (_A Story in Scenes._)
+
+                     PART III.--THE TWO ANDROMEDAS.
+
+    SCENE III.--_Opposite a Railway Bookstall at a London Terminus._
+                      TIME--_Saturday_, 4.25 P.M.
+
+_Drysdale_ (_to his friend_, GALFRID UNDERSHELL, _whom he is "seeing
+off"_). Twenty minutes to spare; time enough to lay in any quantity of
+light literature.
+
+_Undershell (in a head voice)._ I fear the merely ephemeral does not
+appeal to me. But I should like to make a little experiment. (_To the
+Bookstall Clerk._) A--do you happen to have a copy left of CLARION
+BLAIR'S _Andromeda_?
+
+_Clerk._ Not in stock, Sir. Never 'eard of the book, but daresay I could
+get it for you. Here's a Detective Story we're sellin' like 'ot
+cakes--_The Man with the Missing Toe_--very cleverly written story, Sir.
+
+[Illustration: "Here 's a detective story we're sellin' like 'ot
+cakes."]
+
+_Und._ I merely wished to know--that was all. (_Turning with resigned
+disgust to_ DRYSDALE.) Just think of it, my dear fellow. At a bookstall
+like this one feels the pulse, as it were, of Contemporary Culture; and
+here my _Andromeda_, which no less an authority than the _Daily
+Chronicle_ hailed as the uprising of a new and splendid era in English
+Songmaking, a Poetic Renascence, my poor _Andromeda_ is trampled
+underfoot by--(_choking_)--Men with Missing Toes! What a satire on our
+so-called Progress!
+
+_Drys._ That a purblind public should prefer a Shilling Shocker for
+railway reading when for a modest half-guinea they might obtain a
+numbered volume of Coming Poetry on hand-made paper! It _does_ seem
+incredible,--but they do. Well, if they can't read _Andromeda_ on the
+journey, they can at least peruse a stinger on it in this week's
+_Saturday_. Seen it?
+
+_Und._ No. I don't vex my soul by reading criticisms on my work. I am no
+KEATS. They may howl--but they will not kill _me_. By the way, the
+_Speaker_ had a most enthusiastic notice last week.
+
+_Drys._ So you saw _that_ then? But you're right not to mind the others.
+When a fellow's contrived to hang on to the Chariot of Fame, he can't
+wonder if a few rude and envious beggars call out "Whip behind!" eh? You
+don't want to get in yet? Suppose we take a turn up to the end of the
+platform.                                                [_They do._
+
+    JAMES SPURRELL, M.R.C.V.S., _enters with his friend_, THOMAS
+    TANRAKE, _of_ HURDELL AND TANRAKE, _Job and Riding Masters,
+    Mayfair_.
+
+_Spurrell._ Yes, it's lucky for me old SPAVIN being laid up like
+this--gives me a regular little outing, do you see? going down to a
+swell place like this Wyvern Court, and being put up there for a day or
+two! I shouldn't wonder if they do you very well in the housekeeper's
+room. (_To_ Clerk.) Give me a _Pink 'Un_ and last week's _Dog Fancier's
+Guide_.
+
+_Clerk._ We've returned the unsold copies. Could give you _this_ week's;
+or there's _The Rabbit and Poultry Breeder's Journal_.
+
+_Spurr._ Oh, rabbits be blowed! (To TANRAKE.) I wanted you to see that
+notice they put in of _Andromeda_ and me, with my photo and all; it said
+she was the best bull-bitch they'd seen for many a day, and fully
+deserved her first prize.
+
+_Tanrake._ She's a rare good bitch, and no mistake. But what made you
+call her such an outlandish name?
+
+_Spurr._ Well, I _was_ going to call her _Sal_; but a chap at the
+College thought the other would look more stylish if I ever meant to
+exhibit her. _Andromeda_ was one of them Roman goddesses, you know.
+
+_Tanr._ Oh, I knew _that_ right enough. Come and have a drink before you
+start--just for luck--not that you want _that_.
+
+_Spurr._ I'm lucky enough in most things, TOM; in everything except
+love. I told you about that girl, you know--EMMA--and my being as good
+as engaged to her, and then, all of a sudden, she went off abroad and
+I've never seen or had a line from her since. Can't call _that_ luck,
+you know. Well, I won't say no to a glass of something.
+
+                            [_They disappear into the Refreshment Room._
+
+         _The_ Countess of CANTIRE _enters with her daughter_,
+                          Lady MAISIE MULL.
+
+_Lady Cantire_ (_to_ Footman). Get a compartment for us, and two
+foot-warmers, and a second-class as near ours as you can for PHILLIPSON;
+then come back here. Stay, I'd better give you PHILLIPSON'S ticket.
+(_The_ Footman _disappears in the crowd._) Now we must get something to
+read on the journey. (_To_ Clerk.) I want a book of some sort--no
+rubbish, mind; something serious and improving, and _not_ a work of
+fiction.
+
+_Clerk._ Exactly so, Ma'am. Let me see. Ah, here's _Alone with the 'Airy
+Ainoo_. How would you like _that_?
+
+_Lady Cant._ (_with decision_). I should not like it at all.
+
+_Clerk._ I quite understand. Well, I can give you _Three 'Undred Ways of
+Dressing the Cold Mutton_--useful little book for a family, redooced to
+one and ninepence.
+
+_Lady Cant._ Thank you. I think I will wait until I am reduced to one
+and ninepence.
+
+_Clerk._ Precisely. What do you say to _Seven 'Undred Side-splitters for
+Sixpence_? 'Ighly yumorous, I assure you.
+
+_Lady Cant._ Are these times to split our sides, with so many serious
+social problems pressing for solution? You are presumably not without
+intelligence; do you never reflect upon the responsibility you incur in
+assisting to circulate trivial and frivolous trash of this sort?
+
+_Clerk_ (_dubiously_). Well, I can't say as I do, particular, Ma'am. I'm
+paid to sell the books--I don't _select_ 'em.
+
+_Lady Cant._ That is _no_ excuse for you--you ought to exercise some
+discrimination on your own account, instead of pressing people to buy
+what can do them no possible good. You can give me a _Society Snippets_.
+
+_Lady Maisie._ Mamma! A penny paper that says such rude things about the
+Royal Family!
+
+_Lady Cant._ It's always instructive to know what these creatures are
+saying about one, my dear, and it's astonishing how they manage to find
+out the things they do. Ah, here's GRAVENER coming back. He's got us a
+carriage, and we'd better get in.
+
+                [_She and her daughter enter a first-class compartment_;
+                    UNDERSHELL _and_ DRYSDALE _return_.
+
+_Drys._ (_to_ UNDERSHELL). Well, I don't see now where the insolence
+comes in. These people have invited you to stay with them----
+
+_Und._ But why? Not because they appreciate my work--which they probably
+only half understand--but out of mere idle curiosity to see what manner
+of strange beast a Poet may be! And _I_ don't know this Lady
+CULVERIN--never met her in my life! What the deuce does she mean by
+sending me an invitation? Why should these smart women suppose that they
+are entitled to send for a Man of Genius, as if he was their _lackey?_
+Answer me that!
+
+_Drys._ Perhaps the delusion is encouraged by the fact that Genius
+occasionally condescends to answer the bell.
+
+_Und._ (_reddening_). Do you imagine I am going down to this place
+simply to please _them_?
+
+_Drys._ I should think it a doubtful kindness, in your present frame of
+mind; and, as you are hardly going to please yourself, wouldn't it be
+more dignified, on the whole, not to go at all?
+
+_Und._ You never _did_ understand me! Sometimes I think I was born to
+be misunderstood! But you might do me the justice to believe that
+I am not going from merely snobbish motives. May I not feel that
+such a recognition as this is a tribute less to my poor self than to
+Literature, and that, as such, I have scarcely the _right_ to decline
+it?
+
+_Drys._ Ah, if you put it in that way, I am silenced, of course.
+
+_Und._ Or what if I am going to show these Patricians that--Poet of the
+People as I am--they can neither patronise nor cajole me?
+
+_Drys._ Exactly, old chap--what if you _are_?
+
+_Und._ I don't say that I may not have another reason--a--a rather
+romantic one--but you would only sneer if I told you! I know you think
+me a poor creature whose head has been turned by an undeserved success.
+
+_Drys._ You're not going to try to pick a quarrel with an old chum, are
+you? Come, you know well enough I don't think anything of the sort. I've
+always said you had the right stuff in you, and would show it some day;
+there are even signs of it in _Andromeda_ here and there; but you'll do
+better things than that, if you'll only let some of the wind out of your
+head. I like you, old fellow, and that's just why it riles me to see you
+taking yourself so devilish seriously on the strength of a little volume
+of verse which has been "boomed" for all it's worth, and considerably
+more. You've only got your immortality on a short repairing lease at
+present, old boy!
+
+_Und._ (_with bitterness_). I am fortunate in possessing such a candid
+friend. But I mustn't keep you here any longer.
+
+_Drys._ Very well. I suppose you're going first? Consider the feelings
+of the CULVERIN footman at the other end!
+
+_Und._ (_as he fingers a first-class ticket in his pocket_). You have a
+very low view of human nature! (_Here he remarks a remarkably pretty
+face at a second-class window close by._) As it _happens_, I am
+travelling second.                                   [_He gets in._
+
+_Drys._ (_at the window_). Well, good-bye, old chap. Good luck to you at
+Wyvern, and remember--wear your livery with as good a grace as possible.
+
+_Und._ I do not intend to wear any livery whatever.
+
+     [_The owner of the pretty face regards_ UNDERSHELL _with interest._
+
+_Spurr_. (_coming out of the Refreshment Room_). What, second? with all
+my exes. paid? Not _likely_! I'm going to travel in style this journey.
+No--not a smoker; don't want to create a bad impression, you know. This
+will do for me.
+
+        [_He gets into a compartment occupied by_ Lady CANTIRE _and her
+            daughter._
+
+_Tanr._ (_at the window_). There--you're off now. Pleasant journey to
+you, old man. Hope you'll enjoy yourself at this Wyvern Court you're
+going to--and I say, don't forget to send me that notice of _Andromeda_
+when you get back!
+
+      [_The_ Countess _and_ Lady MAISIE _start slightly; the train moves
+            out of the station._
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: 'ARRY AT BISLEY.
+
+'_Arry_ (_to 'Arriet_). "OH, I SY! WHAT SEEDS THEM MUST BE TO GROW A
+LAMP-POST!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                      THE LATEST GREAT YACHT RACE.
+
+                    (_By our own Nautical Special._)
+
+DEAR SIR,--The captain went on board the gallant _Naughty Lass_ with his
+Wind Lass. A Wind Lass is short for "Winn'd Lass," _i.e._ a Lass he has
+won. I think her name is "POLL." The Captain says he is always true to
+her, and nothing will ever induce him to leave his dear Wind Lass ashore
+when he's afloat. Noble sentiment, but unpractical. The fact is (as
+whispered) the Wind Lass is jealous of the _Naughty Lass_, and won't let
+the Captain go alone. When the other Captain went on board the rival of
+the gallant _Naughty Lass_, the _Anne Nemone_, and "the crafty ones," as
+they call the sailors "in the know," were ready to bet any money on the
+_Anne Nemone_. Both cutters "cut" (hence the name) well away from each
+other at the start, and a fresh breeze coming up (the stale one had been
+got rid of) there was a lot of fore-reaching, until the Captain, who is
+an old hand at this sort of thing, sent round steward with brandy. "All
+hands for grog!" was then the order of the day, and we just managed to
+clear Muddle Point, leaving the home-marked (or "home-made," I forget
+which is the technical term, but I suppose the latter, as she was built
+on the neighbouring premises) boat well to windward. After a free reach
+in this weather down to Boot Shore--where the vessel heeled over a bit,
+but nothing to speak of, as it was soon remedied by a cobble that was
+close at hand--the _Naughty Lass_ lifted her head-sails, and away we
+went for Incog Bay, where nobody knew us, or we should have been
+received with three times three.
+
+At this moment the _Anne Nemone_, racing close to us, let out a right
+good "gybe," which was in execrable taste, I admit, but which ought not
+to have called for any retort from the captain's Wind Lass, who gave it
+her hot and strong, and threatened to haul her over the coal-scuttlers.
+Fortunately we were away again, and there was no time for opposite
+gybes. (I spell "gybes" in the old English nautical fashion, but, as I
+ascertain, it is precisely the same as "jibes.") Sailors' language is a
+bit odd; they don't mean anything, I know--it's only professional;
+still, as reporting the matter to ears polite, I scarcely like to set
+down in full _all_ I heard. At 1 P.M. all hands were piped for luncheon,
+and we had spinnakers cooked in their skins (they are a sort of bean),
+with a rare nautical dish called "Booms and Bacon." Fine! I did enjoy
+it! But then I'm an old hand at this sort of thing,--luncheon on board,
+I mean; for there's scarcely a board, be it sea board or other board,
+or, in fact, any boarding establishment, that I don't know. But "yeo ho!
+my boys! and avast!" for are we not still racing? We are!!
+
+We passed The Bottle at 2.30 P.M. What had become of the _Anne Nemone_ I
+don't know, and probably we should never have seen her again had not our
+captain, who was trying to sight the port after passing The Bottle,
+stood on the wrong tack, which ran into his boot and hurt him awfully.
+He was carried below, and we gathered round him as he turned to the
+_Naughty Lass_ and murmured--but POLLY objected that there was nothing
+to murmur about or to grumble at, and that the sooner he stumbled on
+deck the better it would be for the race. So up rose our brave captain,
+took a stiff draught of weather bilge (which is the best preventive of
+sea-sickness), and calling for his first mate, Mr. JACK YARD TOPSAIL,
+told him to "stand away," which I could quite understand, for JACK YARD
+TOPSAIL is a regular salt, full of tar, rum, 'baccy, and everything that
+can make life sweet to _him_, but not to his immediate neighbours. So
+"stand away" and not "stand by" it was, and when we got to Squeams Bay
+the sailors took a short hitch (it is necessary occasionally--but I
+cannot say more--lady-readers being present), and we went streaking away
+like a side of bacon on a fine day.
+
+"Are we winning?" asks POLLY, the Wind Lass. "_You_ look winning!" I
+reply, politely. "By how much?" she inquires, just tucking up her
+skirts, and showing a trim ankle. The Captain, with his glass to his
+eye, and looking down, answers, "The fifth of a long leg!" I never saw a
+woman so angry! "I haven't!" she exclaimed; and there would have been a
+row, and we should never have won, as we did splendidly, had not the
+"First Officer" (just as they name the supernumeraries in a play) come
+up and reminded Pretty POLLY that she wasn't the only mate the Captain
+had on board. "Where's the other?" she cried, in a fury. "Below!"
+answered the First Officer, and down went POLLY, not to re-appear again
+until all was over, and our victorious binnacle was waving proudly from
+the fore-top-gallant. At the finish we went clean into harbour, without
+a speck on our forecastle, or a stain on our character. I wire you the
+account of this great race, and am (Rule BRITANNIA!)
+                                                        Yours,
+                                        "EVERY OTHER INCH A SAILOR!"
+
+P.S.--I am informed that after I left the vessel--in fact it was next
+day--a Burgee was run up at the mast head. I suppose some sort of
+court-martial was held first, and that the Burgee (poor wretch!) was
+caught red-handed. Still, in these days, this sort of proceeding does
+sound rather tyrannical. High-masted justice, eh? Well, sea-dogs will be
+sea-dogs. I don't exactly know what a Burgee is, but I fancy he is
+something between a Buccaneer and a Bargee; a sort of river-and-sea
+pirate. But I fear it is a landsman!! Burgee, masculine (and probably
+husband) of Burgess!! If so, there _will_ be a row!
+                                           YOURS AS BEFORE THE MAST.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "A FRIEND IN NEED--"
+
+ANARCHIST. "'ELP! 'ELP! PER-LICE!!"
+
+CONSTABLE. "'DOWN WITH EVERYTHING,' INDEED! LUCKY FOR _YOU_ YOU HAVEN'T
+'DOWN'D' _ME_!!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                           A FRIEND IN NEED;
+
+                  _Or, The Lawbreaker's Last Refuge._
+
+    Sure stranger irony life never saw
+    Than Lawlessness low suppliant to the Law!
+
+                  _Guardian of Order soliloquiseth:_--
+
+  "Down with Everything!" Ah, yes!
+    That's the sort o' rot you jaw!
+  You'd be in a tidy mess
+    If you'd downed with good old Law.
+  Funniest job we have to do,
+  Is to "save" such scamps as you.
+
+  "Down with Everything!" Spout on!
+    I, who stand for Law, stand by.
+  You may want me ere you've done.
+    Somethink in that workman's eye,
+  And the clenching of his fist,
+  Ought to put you on the twist.
+
+  Think you're fetching of 'em fine
+    With your tommy-rotten patter?
+  Think you've got 'em in a line,
+    Or as near as doesn't matter?
+  Won't you feel in a rare stew
+  If they take to downing _you_?
+
+  Downing is a sort o' game
+    Two can play at _here_--thanks be!
+  Spin your lead out! Don't let shame,
+    Common sense, or courtesy,
+  Put the gag on your red rag;
+  Flourish it--like your Red Flag!
+
+  How they waggle, flag and tongue!
+    Proud o' that same bit of bunting?
+  See the glances on you flung?
+    Hear the British workman grunting?
+  He is none too fond, that chap,
+  Of rank rot and the Red Cap!
+
+  Perched upon a noodle's nob,
+    Minds me of an organ-monkey!--
+  If a workman will not _rob_,
+    You denounce him as a "flunkey."
+  Some of 'em know what that means.
+  Mind your eye! They'll give you beans!
+
+  Ah! I thought so. Gone too fur!
+    Set the British Workman booing.
+  "_Dirty dog!!!_" That riles you, Sir!
+    Better mind what you are doing!
+  Mug goes saffron now, with fear,
+  Round you glare! Yes, Law _is_ here!
+
+  Show your teeth, shark-like and yellow!
+    You won't frighten them, or me.
+  Ah! there comes the true mob-bellow!
+    That means mischief--as you see.
+  Mob, when mettled, goes a squelcher
+  For Thief, Anarchist _or_ Welsher.
+
+  "Help! Perlice!!" Oh! _that_'s your cry!
+    _I'm_ your friend, then,--at a pinch?
+  Funk first taste of Anarchy?
+    Law is better than--Judge Lynch?
+  Rummy this! For all his jaw
+    The lawbreaker flies to Law!
+
+  Good as a sensation novel
+    For to see you crouching there.
+  Can't these Red Flag heroes grovel?
+    Come, my Trojan, have a care.
+  Do not clasp Law's legs that way,
+  Like _Scum Goodman_ in the play.
+
+  Help? Oh, yes; I'll help you--out!--
+    "_Stand back there, please! Pass along!_"
+  Come, get up! _Now_ don't you doubt
+    If your "downing" dodge ain't wrong?
+  Anyhow 'tis, you'll agree,
+  Lucky for _you_--you've not downed _me_!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: WHAT OUR ARTIST HAS TO PUT UP WITH.
+
+_Madame la Baronne_ (_who WILL speak English_). "AND TELL ME, MISTRESS
+BROWN, YOUR CLEVARE 'USBAND, WHO 'AVE A SO BEAUTIFUL TALENT--IS HE YET
+OF ZE ROYAL ACADEMY?"
+
+_Our Artist's Wife_ (_who WILL speak French_). "OH NON, MADAME, HELAS!
+SEULEMENT, IL EST _PENDU_ CETTE ANNEE, VOUS SAVEZ!"
+
+_Madame la Baronne_ (_relapsing into her native language_).
+"OH--MADAME--QUELLE AFFREUSE NOUVELLE!"]
+
+                         A MIDSUMMER DAY-DREAM.
+
+    [_The Jackson-Harmsworth Expedition has started._]
+
+  PUNCH sleeps. The cheerful Sage has heard
+    That JACKSON is about to start.
+  His sympathies are warmly stirred,
+    He hath the _Windward's_ weal at heart.
+  He dreams: That block of dinner ice
+    Stirs arctic fancies in his breast.
+  He travels Pole-ward in a trice;
+    He joins the JACKSON-HARMSWORTH quest.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+  "All precious things, discovered late
+    To those that seek them issue forth."--
+  To find her may be JACKSON'S fate,
+    That Sleeping Beauty of the North!
+  She lieth in her icy cave
+    As still as sleep, as white as death.
+  Her look might stagger the most brave,
+    And make the stoutest hold his breath.
+
+  "The bodies and the bones of those
+    That strove in other days to pass,"
+  Are scattered o'er the spreading snows,
+    Are bleached about that sea of glass.
+  He gazes on the silent dead:
+    "They perished in their daring deeds."
+  The proverb flashes through his head,
+    "The many fail: the one succeeds."
+
+                                 * * *
+
+  _Punch_ wakes: lo! it is but a dream--
+    A vision of the Frozen Sea;
+  Yet may be it may hold a gleam
+    Of prophecy. So mote it be!
+  To JACKSON and to HARMSWORTH too
+    He brims a well-earnt bumper. "Skoal!"
+  Here's health to them and their brave crew!
+    And safe return from well-won goal!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                      THE MINX.--A POEM IN PROSE.
+
+                             [Illustration]
+
+_Poet._ It's so good of you to see me. I merely wished to ask one or two
+questions as to your career. You must have led a most interesting life.
+
+_Sphinx._ You are very inquisitive and extremely indiscreet, and I have
+always carefully avoided being interviewed. However, go on.
+
+_Poet._ I believe you can read hieroglyphs?
+
+_Sphinx._ Oh yes; I _can_, fluently, But I never do. I assure you they
+are not in the least amusing.
+
+_Poet._ No doubt you have talked with hippogriffs and basilisks?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_modestly_). I certainly _was_ in rather a smart set at one
+time. As they say, I have "known better days."
+
+_Poet._ Did you ever have any conversation with THOTH?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_loftily_). Oh, dear no! (_Mimicking._) Thoth he wath not
+conthidered quite a nice perthon. I would not allow him to be introduced
+to me.
+
+_Poet._ You were very particular?
+
+_Sphinx._ One has to be careful. The world is so censorious.
+
+_Poet._ I wonder, would you give me the pleasure of singing to me?
+"_Adrian's Gilded Barge_," for instance?
+
+_Sphinx._ You must really excuse me. I am not in good voice. By the way,
+the "Gilded Barge," as you call it, was merely a shabby sort of punt. It
+would have had no effect whatever at the Henley Regatta.
+
+_Poet._ Dear me! Is it true you played golf among the Pyramids?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_emphatically_). Perfectly untrue. You see what absurd reports
+get about!
+
+_Poet_ (_softly_). They do. What was that story about the Tyrian?
+
+_Sphinx._ Merely gossip. There was nothing in it, I assure you.
+
+_Poet._ And APIS?
+
+_Sphinx._ Oh, he sent me some flowers, and there were paragraphs about
+it--in hieroglyphs--in the society papers. That was all. But they were
+contradicted.
+
+_Poet._ You knew AMMON very well, I believe?
+
+_Sphinx_ (_frankly_). AMMON and I _were_ great pals. I used to see
+a good deal of him. He came in to tea very often--he was _quite_
+interesting. But I have not seen him for a long time. He had one
+fault--he _would_ smoke in the drawing-room. And though I hope I am not
+too conventional, I really could not allow _that_.
+
+_Poet._ How pleased they would all be to see you again! Why do you not
+go over to Egypt for the winter?
+
+_Sphinx._ The hotels at Cairo are so dreadfully expensive.
+
+_Poet._ Is it true you went tunny-fishing with ANTONY?
+
+_Sphinx._ One must draw the line somewhere! CLEOPATRA was so cross. She
+was horribly jealous, and not nearly so handsome as you might suppose,
+though she _was_ photographed as a "type of Egyptian Beauty!"
+
+_Poet._ I must thank you very much for the courteous way in which you
+have replied to my questions. And now will you forgive me if I make an
+observation? In my opinion you are not a Sphinx at all.
+
+_Sphinx_ (_indignantly_). What am I, then?
+
+_Poet._ A Minx.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                        THE LAY OF THE EXPLORER.
+
+  I USED to think that if a man
+    In any character could score a
+  Distinctly leonine success,
+    'Twould be as a returned explorer.
+
+  So, when by sixteen tigers tree'd,
+    Or when mad elephants were charging,
+  I joyed to say--"On this, some day,
+    My countrymen will be enlarging."
+
+  And when mosquitoes buzzed and bit
+    (For 'tis their pleasing nature to),
+  Or fevers floored me, still this dream
+    Helped me to suffer and to do.
+
+  I _have_ returned! Whole dusky tribes
+    I've wiped right out--such labour sweet is!--
+  And with innumerable chiefs
+    Arranged unconscionable treaties.
+
+  What's the result? I have become
+    A butt for each humanitarian,
+  Who call my exploits in the chase
+    The work of a "confessed barbarian."
+
+  And, worst of all, my rival, JONES,
+    Who'd any trick that's low and mean dare,
+  Cries--"Equatorial jungles! Pish!
+    I don't believe he's ever been there!"
+
+  So now I just "explore" Herne Bay,
+    With trippers, niggers, nurses, babies:
+  I've tried for fame. I 've gained it, too:
+    I share it with the vanished JABEZ!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+NOTE AND QUERY.--At Aldershot the QUEEN expressed herself much pleased
+with the "tattoo" all round. "IGNORAMUS" writes to inquire "if
+'tattoo-ing' is done in Indian ink or with gunpowder?"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                           RULE, "BRITANNIA."
+
+                       (_New Yachtical Version._)
+
+                H.R.H. THE P----E OF W----S _sings_:--
+
+  When _Vigilant_, at GOULD'S command,
+    Came over here to sweep the main,
+  This was the lay that thrilled the land,
+    And Yankee Doodle loved the strain--
+      Lick _Britannia!_ the fleet _Britannia_ lick!
+      And JOHNNY BULL may cut his stick.
+
+  But _Vigilant_, less fast than thee,
+    Must in her turn before thee fall,
+  _Britannia_, who hast kept the sea,
+    The dread and envy of them all.
+      Win, _Britannia_! _Britannia_ rules the waves!
+      (Though by the narrowest of shaves.)
+
+  Six races in succession show
+    The Yankee yacht has met her match;
+  Though she was hailed, not long ago,
+    The swiftest clipper of the batch.
+      Rule, _Britannia_! _Britannia_ rule the waves!
+      The most appropriate of staves!
+
+  I'm sorry poor DUNRAVEN'S crack
+    So prematurely has gone down;
+  But mine has kept the winning tack,
+    And well upheld the isle's renown.
+      Rule, _Britannia_! &c.
+
+  When JONATHAN thy match hath found,
+    He'll to our coasts again repair.
+  We'll have another friendly round,
+    With manly hearts and all things fair.
+      Rule, _Britannia_! _Britannia_ rules the waves,
+      Six sequent wins BULL'S honour saves!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                        TO ALTHEA IN THE STALLS.
+
+  From the Orchestra as I was staring
+    So wearily down at the hall,
+  The programme I held hardly caring
+    To turn, I was tired of it all!
+  For I knew 'twas a futile endeavour
+    With music my trouble to drown,
+  And I'd made up my mind that you never,
+    Ah, never, would come back to town!
+
+  When suddenly, there I beheld you
+    Yourself--ah, the joyous amaze!
+  I wonder what instinct impelled you
+    Your dreamy dark eyes to upraise,
+  That for one happy second's communing
+    Met mine that had waited so long--
+  And the wail of the violins tuning
+    It turned to a jubilant song!
+
+  'Mid organ-chords sombre and mellow
+    There breaks out a ripple of glee,
+  And the voice of the violoncello,
+    ALTHEA, is pleading for me!
+  The music is beating and surging
+    With joy no _adagio_ can drown,
+  In ecstasy all things are merging--
+    Because you have come back to town!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+THE COREAN DIFFICULTY.--"_Japan declines to withdraw._"--(_Telegram,
+Thursday, July 12_).--"Ah," observed Miss QUOTER, who is ever ready,
+"that reminds me of BYRON'S line in _Mazeppa_, quite applicable to the
+present situation--
+
+                  'Again he urges on his mild Corea.'"
+
+                                 * * *
+
+NEW WORK (_by the Chief Druid Minstrel at the Eisteddfod, dedicated to
+their Royal Highnesses_).--"_How to be Harpy in Wales._"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: PREHISTORIC PEEPS.
+
+A CRICKET MATCH. "HOWS THAT, UMPIRE?"!!]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
+
+                 EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
+
+_House of Lords, Monday, July 9._--PLAYFAIR'S leonine countenance
+habitually cheerful. But never saw him looking so pleased as when we
+walked through St. Stephen's Chapel on way to Lords just now. "From
+point of view of old House of Commons man the Lords are, I admit, a
+little unresponsive," my Lord said. "The chamber is, acoustically and
+otherwise, the sepulchre of speech. You remember the little lecture on
+margarine I delivered years ago in the Commons? Bless me, how delighted
+the House was to see the table covered with small white pots containing
+samples, with a bottle of best Dorset margarine hooked on to the Mace
+for greater convenience of reference. Often I've enchained an audience
+with my object lessons. Up to present time that monologue on margarine
+ranks as most successful. But I'll beat the record to-night. See that?"
+(Here he slapped a something bulging out from his trouser pocket.)
+"Guess what that is? Thought you couldn't. It's cultch. Know what cultch
+is?"
+
+"Not unless it's the beginning of knowledge," I said, drawing a bow, so
+to speak, at a venture. "Positive cultch, comparative culture, eh?"
+
+PLAYFAIR stared at me vacantly. "Cultch----" he said; "but no, that's
+part of the lecture. Come along to the Lords and hear it."
+
+[Illustration: Suggested Statues for the Vacant Niches in the Inner
+Lobby.
+
+No. I.--"The Majesty of the Law!"]
+
+House not in condition particularly inspiring for lecturer. Benches
+mostly empty; STANLEY of Alderley completed depletion by rambling
+speech of half an hour's duration, modestly described in Orders as "a
+question." Wanted to know how many lighthouses in England and Wales paid
+Income Tax; how many were behindhand with their rates; were Death Duties
+applicable to some of them; if so, which; and whether the tenants
+compounded for rates or otherwise. These inquiries not without interest,
+but STANLEY not chiefly remarkable for concentration of thought or
+conciseness of phrase.
+
+At length PLAYFAIR'S turn came. A flutter of interest amongst Peers as
+he was observed tugging at something in trousers pocket; hauled out what
+looked like empty oyster shell.
+
+"Ah!" said HERSCHELL, smiling, "I see the lawyers have been before us."
+
+"In moving the Second Reading of the Sea Fisheries (Shell Fish) Bill, I
+propose, if I may be permitted, to give your Lordships an object lesson.
+This particular shell," PLAYFAIR continued, holding it up between finger
+and thumb, "is covered all over with microscopic oysters. Oysters in all
+stages of growth are seen there."
+
+"Well," said the MARQUIS OF CARABAS, "if one had a twenty billion
+magnifying glass of the kind associated with the memory of _Sam Weller_,
+perhaps we might see the oysters. All I can say is, I don't see any
+worth three and sixpence a dozen. PLAYFAIR's no business to bring these
+things down here, filling House with smell of stale seaweed when his
+oysters are no bigger than a pin's head."
+
+The MARQUIS strode angrily forth. Others followed. Lecture cut short.
+
+_Business done._--Sea Fisheries (Shell Fish) Bill read a second time,
+amid unexpectedly depressing circumstances.
+
+_House of Commons, Tuesday._--SQUIRE OF MALWOOD back after a week's
+rustication. Brings glowing news of the hay crop; looks, indeed, as if
+he had been helping to make it; ruddier than a cherry; indescribable but
+unmistakable country air about him as he sits on Treasury Bench with
+folded arms, listening to the monotonous ripple of talk renewed on
+Budget Bill.
+
+                 "Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis,"
+
+says PRINCE ARTHUR, looking across at the rustic Squire.
+
+                                          "_At ille_
+              Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis aevum,"
+
+added JOKIM, with approving glance at bench behind, where the Busy B.'s
+swarm after week's rest, humming round amendments with increased vigour.
+
+Almost imperceptible movement of river goes forward. The blameless
+BARTLEY on his feet, entrancing House with particulars of a silver
+cup, prized heirloom in the humble household in Victoria Street. It
+seems that one of BARTLEY'S ancestors--he who came over with the
+Conqueror--had brought with him certain blades of buckwheat, which he
+industriously planted out on the site, then a meadow, on which the Army
+and Navy Stores now flourish. The buckwheat grew apace. One day King
+STEPHEN, passing by on a palfrey, noted the waving green expanse.
+Enquiring to whom the State was indebted for this fair prospect, a
+courtier informed him that it was "the ancestor of GEORGE CHRISTOPHER
+TROUT BARTLEY, Member for North Islington in the thirteenth Parliament
+of Queen VICTORIA."
+
+"By our sooth," said the King, "he shall have a silver cup."
+
+One was forthwith requisitioned from the nearest silversmith's, and this
+it is which now adorns the sideboard in the best parlour at St.
+Margaret's House, Victoria Street, S.W.
+
+These interesting reminiscences of family history GEORGE CHRISTOPHER
+TROUT recited to a charmed House in support of proposed new Clause,
+moved by DICK WEBSTER, exempting from estate duty heirlooms under
+settlement. SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, usually impervious to argument in favour
+of alterations in his prized Budget, evidently moved. If BARTLEY had
+only thought of bringing the cup with him, had at this moment produced
+it from under his cloak, and flashed it forth on gaze of House, the
+Clause would have been added, and the cup, Estate-duty free, would have
+passed on through the ages, telling its simple story to successive
+strata of the BARTLEY family. As it was, SQUIRE stood firm, and
+WEBSTER'S Clause negatived.
+
+"Couldn't do it, my dear WEBSTER," the SQUIRE found opportunity of
+saying, as he met disappointed legislator behind SPEAKER'S Chair. "Of
+course I said the polite thing about BARTLEY'S Cup. But I wasn't
+thinking of that. I know very well what you had in mind in bringing in
+this Clause. The heirlooms you thought of are those cups and medals you
+won for Cambridge when, twenty-nine years ago, you met the Oxford
+Champion in the two-mile race, and in the one-mile spin. If we could do
+something in the Schedules specially exempting them I should be glad.
+Think it over, and see me later."
+
+WEBSTER wrung the SQUIRE'S hand, and passed on, saying nothing. There
+are moments when speech is superfluous. 'Tis true, they don't often
+occur in House of Commons; but here was one. Let us cherish its memory.
+
+_Business done._--Considering and negativing new Clauses to Budget Bill.
+
+_Thursday._--All the cheerfulness of to-day has brightened
+Committee-room, where question of issue of Writ, following on
+application for Chiltern Hundreds, is considered. The SQUIRE under
+examination for nearly two hours and a-half. Difficult to say which the
+more enjoyed it, the witness or the Committee.
+
+[Illustration: An Interesting Specimen. The Coleridge Caterpillar!]
+
+"What is the state of a Peer pending issue of Writ of Summons?" asked
+the SQUIRE, suddenly taking to interrogate the Committee assembled to
+question him. "Is he a caterpillar passing through a larva, spinning a
+cocoon of silk until he reaches a condition where they toil not neither
+do they spin?" (Here, quite by accident, his glance fell upon JOSEPH,
+supposed to be sitting upon him in judicial capacity.) "There is," he
+continued (and here he glanced at PRINCE ARTHUR, smiling at the sly hit
+dealt at his dear friend JOE) "an opening for philosophic doubt as to
+the precise condition of this impounded Peer in his intermediary state."
+
+The House still going about with millstone of Budget Bill round its
+neck, BYRNE, BUTCHER, BEACH, BOWLES and BARTLEY tugging at it,
+KENYON-SLANEY now and then uttering obvious truths with air of
+supernatural wisdom. GRAND YOUNG GARDNER (address Board of Agriculture,
+Whitehall Place, S.W.) hands me scrap of paper; says he found it near
+SQUIRE'S seat on Treasury Bench; but it doesn't look like his writing:
+
+  "Two modes there are, O BYRNE and BUTCHER,
+    Our gratitude to earn:
+  If BYRNE would only burn up BUTCHER,
+    Or BUTCHER butcher BYRNE;
+  Or both combine--yes, bless their souls--
+  To burn and butcher TOMMY BOWLES!"
+
+_Business done._--Very little.
+
+_Friday._--TEMPLE going about much as if on Tuesday night he had got out
+of his cab in the ordinary fashion. He didn't, you know. Taken out in
+sections through the upper window by couple of stalwart policemen. This
+owing to circumstance that Irish cab-driver having, after fashion of his
+country, saved a trot for the avenue, dashed up against kerbstone and
+overturned cab.
+
+"Gave me a start, of course," TEMPLE said, as we brushed him down. "Not
+a convenient way of getting out of your hansom. What I was afraid of was
+being disfigured. Am not a vain man, but don't mind telling you, TOBY, a
+scratch or a scar on one's face would have been exceedingly annoying.
+But I'm all right, as you see. Hope it isn't a portent. A small thing
+that under this Government I should be overturned. What I fear is, that
+unless we keep our eye on them they'll overturn the Empire."
+
+_Business done._--Not yet done with Budget.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+FASHIONABLE INFORMATION AND SUGGESTION.--The Duke and Duchess of BEDFORD
+having returned from Thorney will go to Beds;--a delightful change, that
+is unless they are rose-beds, which are proverbially thorny. And "the
+Duchess of ROXBURGHE goes to Floors." No Beds here; only Floors. Why not
+combine the two establishments and get them both under one roof?
+
+                                 * * *
+
+"_NIHIL tetiqit quod non ornavit_," as the prizefighter said of his
+right fist, after blacking his opponent's eye and breaking the bridge of
+his nose.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+"The Knights of Labour" seem to be banded together against "Days of
+Work."
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: CRUEL!
+
+_Lucullus Brown_ (_on hospitable purpose intent_). "ARE YOU DINING
+ANYWHERE TO-MORROW NIGHT?"
+
+_Jones_ (_not liking to absolutely "give himself away"_). "LET ME
+SEE"--(_considers_)--"NO; I'M NOT DINING ANYWHERE TO-MORROW."
+
+_Lucullus Brown_ (_seeing through the artifice_). "UM! POOR CHAP! HOW
+HUNGRY YOU WILL BE!"
+
+                                           ["_Exeunt,--severally._"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         THE ROYAL WELSH BARD.
+
+    [The Prince of WALES was initiated as a Bard the other day at
+    the Carnarvon Eisteddfod.]
+
+  The Minstrel-Prince to his Wales has gone,
+    In the ranks of the Bards you'll find him;
+  His bardic cloak he has girded on,
+    And his tame harp slung behind him.
+  "Land of Song!" said the Royal Bard,
+    "You remarkably rum-spelt land, you,
+  One Prince at least shall try very hard
+      To pronounce you, and understand you."
+
+  The Prince tried hard, but the songs he heard
+    Very soon brought his proud soul under,
+  With twenty consonants packed in a word,
+    And no vowels to keep them asunder!
+  So he said to the Druid, "A word with you,
+    Your jaw must be hard as nails, Sir;
+  Your songs may do for the bold Cymru,
+    They've done for the Prince of WALES, Sir!"
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                              GOOD WISHES.
+
+    (_To Mr. and Mrs. J. M. Barrie on their Marriage, July 9, 1894._)
+
+  "When authors venture on a play,
+    They have been known to find them undone,
+  But Mr. BARRIE found the way
+    To great success in _Walker, London_.
+  A ready TOOLE he'd close at hand,
+    And those who know her merry glance'll
+  Not find it hard to understand
+    How much was due to MARY ANSELL.
+
+  Her acting in the House-boat Scene
+    Led Mr. BARRIE to discover
+  He'd lost his heart (although he'd _been_
+    Of Lady NICOTINE a lover).
+  And those who felt sweet NANNY'S charm,
+    Or who in Thrums delight to tarry,
+  Long happy life, quite free from harm,
+    Will wish this new-formed firm of BARRIE.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber Notes:
+
+Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_.
+
+Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS.
+
+Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of
+the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.
+
+The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up
+paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate. Thus
+the page number of the illustration might not match the page number in
+the List of Illustrations, and the order of illustrations may not be the
+same in the List of Illustrations and in the book.
+
+Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected
+unless otherwise noted.
+
+On page 25, "o" was changed to "to".
+
+On page 25, "Isi" was changed to "Is it".
+
+On page 31, a quotation mark was added before "'DOWN WITH".
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume
+107, July 21st 1894, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
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+***** This file should be named 39770.txt or 39770.zip *****
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