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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/44660-0.txt b/44660-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b132602 --- /dev/null +++ b/44660-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1260 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44660 *** + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 109. + +JULY 13, 1895. + + + + +OPERATIC NOTES. + +_Monday._--Quite new Opera, _Faust_. Some people say they've heard it +before. Others add, "Yes, and more than once this season." Unwritten +law in _Codex Druriolanum_ is "You can't have too much of a good +thing." There are a hundred different ways of dressing chicken; so +with _Faust_. This time _Faust_ comes and is _Faust_ served with +_Sauce Marguerite à l'Emma Eames_. Uncommonly good. _Faust lui-même à +l'Alvarez_ goes down uncommonly well. _Mefisto-Plançon Sauce au bon +diable_, a little overdone, perhaps, but decidedly a popular dish. +Baton of BEVIGNANI keeps all the ingredients well stirred up. +House full. + +[Illustration] + +_Tuesday._--_Carmen._ Madame BELLINCIONI and Signor +ANCONA going strong. Capital house, spite of shadow of +dissolution being over us all. + +_Wednesday._--_Nozze di Figaro_, with EMMA EAMES as Countess, +singing charmingly, and looking like portrait of Court Beauty by Sir +PETER LELY. _Maurel-Almaviva_ all right for voice, but not up +to his Countess in aristocratic appearance. However, this is in keeping +with character of nobleman whose most intimate friend is his barber, +and who makes love to the barber's _fiancée_, who is also his wife's +_femme de chambre_. + + * * * * * + +ROUNDABOUT READINGS. + +At the Oxford and Cambridge Athletic Sports on Wednesday last, great +surprise was expressed at the defeat of the hitherto invincible Mr. +C. B. FRY by Mr. MENDELSON in the Long Jump. Mr. +MENDELSON, who comes to us from New Zealand, has not only done +a fine performance, but he has also jumped into fame. It is at any rate +obvious that it is quite impossible for him to represent his University +in the High Jump, for + + With a musical name (though he varies the spelling), + This youth from New Zealand is bound to go far. + He couldn't jump high, since (it's truth I am telling) + No master of music e'er misses a bar. + + * * * * * + +The Long Jump, snatched like a brand from the burning, practically gave +the victory in the whole contest to Cambridge, who also won the Weight, +the Mile, the Three Miles and the Quarter. + + The Light Blues triumphed, fortune being shifty; + They cheered FITZHERBERT sprinting home in fifty. + For strength the weight-man's parents have a hot son, + Witness the put of youthful Mr. WATSON. + LUTYENS, who always pleases as he goes, + Romped in, his glasses poised upon his nose. + And none that day with greater dash and go ran + Than the Light Blue three-miler, Mr. HORAN. + + * * * * * + +During the practice of the crews for Henley Regatta there has been one +exalted contest, which I cannot remember hearing of in former years. +My _Sporting Life_ (of which I am a diligent and a constant reader) +informed me that "at one time it did seem as though Jupiter Pluvius was +about to swamp Old Boreas, but the latter proved too tough." Quite a +sporting event, evidently. Why, oh why, was not Old Boreas present when +Pelion was piled upon Ossa? The whole course of (pre) history might +have been changed. + + * * * * * + +A Newcastle contemporary has been discussing the art of adding to +the beauty of women by the use of cosmetics, &c. May I commend the +following extract to the notice of the ladies of England? + + "No woman is capable of being beautiful who is capable of being false. + The true art of assisting beauty consists in embellishing the whole + person by the ornaments of virtuous and commendable qualities. How + much nobler is the contemplation of beauty when it is heightened + by virtue! How faint and spiritless are the charms of a coquette, + when compared with the loveliness of innocence, piety, good-humour, + and truth--virtues which add a new softness to their sex, and even + beautify their beauty! That agreeableness possessed by the modest + virgin is now preserved in the tender mother, the prudent friend, and + the faithful wife. Colours artfully spread upon canvas may entertain + the eye, but not touch the heart; and she who takes no care to add + to the natural graces of her person, noble qualities, may amuse as a + picture, but not triumph as a beauty." + + * * * * * + +Cheltenham is a pleasant place. I quote from a memory which is, I know, +miserably defective: + + Year by year do England's daughters + In the fairest gloves and shawls + Troop to drink the Cheltenham waters, + And adorn the Cheltenham balls. + +This is not the place that one would naturally associate with violent +language over so small a matter as the rejection of some plans. A +quarrel, however, has taken place in the Town Council, and terrible +words have been spoken:-- + + "In the course of a discussion on the rejection of some plans, Mr. + MARGRETT accused the acting chairman of the Streets Committee + (Mr. PARSONAGE) with being influenced by personal and + political motives against the person (Mr. BARNFIELD) who + sent them in. Mr. PARSONAGE warmly retorted with the lie + direct, and told Mr. MARGRETT that he knew he was lying. Mr. + LENTHALL accused Mr. PARSONAGE of being 'slip-shod' + in his method of bringing up the minutes of the Streets Committee, + because he had passed over without comment a dispute between the + Corporation and the Board of Guardians. While denying this imputation, + Mr. PARSONAGE said he would even prefer to be 'slip-shod' + than to follow Mr. LENTHALL'S example of giving utterance to + a long-winded and frothy oration over such a trumpery matter as a road + fence." + +After this I quite expected to read that some one-- + + ... raised a point of order, when + A chunk of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen, + And he smiled a sort of sickly smile and curled upon the floor! + And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more. + +But the matter seems to have dropped, and everything to have ended +peacefully--a great and bitter disappointment to all lovers of ructions. + + * * * * * + +Even in aquatic matters Ireland is a country of surprises. In the +Eight-oared race the other day for the "Pembroke Cup," there was a +dead-heat between the Shandon Boat Club and the Dublin University +Boat Club. In the row-off, the _Irish Independent_ says that "Boat +Club caught the water first, but after a few strokes Shandon forged +in front. After the mile mark, Shandon were rowing eighteen against +the Boat Club's nineteen or twenty. In the next three hundred yards +Boat Club dropped to seventeen, the others being steady at nineteen +all through. About one hundred and fifty yards off the fishery step +the Boat Club quickened up to forty and got within two feet of their +opponents. Then, amid the greatest excitement, Boat Club got in front +and won by a canvas." A stroke oar who can row a race at nineteen to +the minute all through is steadier but certainly less versatile than +one who can spring suddenly from the rate of seventeen to the rate +of forty. As admirable as either is the genius of the reporter who +describes the event. + + * * * * * + +Mr. H. M. HYNDMAN is the Socialist candidate for Burnley. He +advocates "the immediate nationalisation and socialisation of railways, +mines, factories, and the land, with a view to establishing organised +co-operation for production and distribution in every department under +the control of the entire community. There should be a minimum wage +of thirty shillings a week in all State and Municipal employment, as +well as in State-created monopolies." There's a modest and practical +programme for you! But this windy gentleman's opponents may reply +that they prefer the system of each for himself, and d----l take the +HYNDMAN, to all the verbiage of the Socialist froth-pot. + + * * * * * + +Many reasons have been given for the fall of the late Government. It +has been left to a correspondent of the _Birmingham Daily Post_ to +discover the real and only one. "It is most unfair," he says, "to hold +them entirely responsible for all the shortcomings, blunders, and +failures which distorted their administration. How could they help +these things? Has it never occurred to you that the Government of Lord +ROSEBERY was the '13th' Parliament of Queen VICTORIA? +Can anybody reasonably expect good government from a 13th Parliament? +It is out of all question." What _persiflage_, what wit! + + * * * * * + +I sorrow over the new town clock of Dalkey. In my _Freeman's Journal_ I +read that, at the monthly meeting of the Dalkey Township Commissioners, +a letter was read from Messrs. CHANCELLOR AND SONS, stating +that the new town clock could not be made to strike, but they could +make a new clock for £100. The letter was marked read--and no wonder. +If it can't strike, it had better be wound up, and Dalkey is obviously +the place to wind it. Otherwise there seems no reason in the Township's +name. + + * * * * * + +Clevedon is, I believe, in Somerset. Anyone in search of a sensation +ought to have gone there last week, for it is stated that "Mr. +VICTOR ROSINI'S Spectral Opera Company commenced a week's +engagement at the Public Hall on Monday evening." I cannot imagine +a spectral _basso_ or _tenore robusto_. And in any case, why should +the unfortunate operatic spectres be harried into giving public +performances? + + * * * * * + +MUSICAL HONOURS!!--The friends of Sir HENRY JAMES, Q.C., +M.P., will celebrate his being raised to the peerage by serenading +with "_The Aylestone Chorus_." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "VIVA L'ITALIA!" + +_Admiral Punch_ (_to Italia on the occasion of her Fleet visiting +England_). "WELCOME, _mia Bella_, to you and your splendid Ships! I +come of an old Italian Family myself!"] + + * * * * * + +HER PREVIOUS SWEETHEART. + +_Wednesday._--Violet has accepted me, this very day, the happiest of +my life. She is the sweetest and prettiest woman in the world. I have +loved her long and passionately. She has not loved me long, and she +could never love me passionately. She is rather unemotional. Even when +I kissed her this afternoon for the first time she was quite calm. She +tells me she has once loved, as though she could never love again. Her +previous sweetheart was a Captain. I am a mere writer. His name was +PERCY PLANTAGENET CHOLMONDELEY. Mine is JONES. I hope +that in time she may forget him. + +_Thursday._--Meet her in the Row, and sit under the trees. She is fond +of horses. So am I, but I do not ride often. She mentions that Captain +CHOLMONDELEY was a splendid rider. Listen patiently to what +she tells me. + +_Friday._--To the Opera with VIOLET and her people. She +does not care for GOUNOD'S _Faust_. Prefers a burlesque +with comic songs. Says the Captain sang comic songs admirably, with +banjo accompaniment. When it's well done, I also like that. Tell +her so. This encourages her to further reminiscences. Of course, +she is right to conceal nothing from me now we are engaged, but +frankness, even engaging frankness, may be carried too far. Manage +to change the subject at last, and then unfortunately the Soldier's +Chorus reminds her of a parody in an amateur burlesque which Captain +CHOLMONDELEY----and so on. + +_Saturday._--Meet her at Hurlingham. She is so fond of polo. She says +the Captain was a splendid player. I expected that. A sort of Champion +of the World. Of course. I never played in my life. Listen to an +account of his exploits. Rather bored. + +_Sunday._--Up the river. Very hot day. Delightful to lounge in the +shade and smoke. VIOLET more energetic. Compels me to exert +myself. She says the Captain could do anything in a boat. No doubt. I +am prepared to hear that he shot the Falls of Niagara in a punt. He was +a wonderful genius. I am tired of hearing of him. + +_Monday._--To Mr. MONTGOMERY-MUMBY'S dance. VIOLET +there of course. We both like dancing. Get on charmingly together. +Suddenly something reminds her of the ever-lamented Captain P. P. C. +I suggest that he has said good-bye to her for ever, as his initials +show. She does not see the little joke. Have to explain it to her. Then +she says it is a very poor joke. No doubt it is, but she needn't tell +me so. Annoying. A certain coolness between us. + +_Tuesday._--To the French play with VIOLET and her aunt. +She understands French very well. Seems to think a lot of me +because I know something of several languages. Ask her if Captain +CHOLMONDELEY was fond of learning languages. Am prepared to +hear that he was a second MEZZOFANTI. On the contrary, it +seems that he couldn't speak a word of anything but English, and that +he didn't speak very much that was worth hearing even in that. The only +French he could understand was in a _menu_. Apparently he never read +anything else in any language, except the sporting papers in English. +Have at last found something he could not do. Delighted. Unfortunately +show this. VIOLET begins to defend him. I say he must have +been rather a duffer. She retorts that I can't play polo. What has that +to do with it? Again a coolness between us. + +_Wednesday._--It is all over! We have parted for ever. She could never +forget that confounded Captain. Asked her this morning, when she was +telling me of his shooting elephants, or alligators, or rabbits, or +sparrows, or something wonderful, why she did not marry him. She says +it was broken off. She shows me his last letter of farewell. I read +it critically. It is very short. Point out to her nine mistakes in +spelling, and four in grammar. She says I am brutal. Indignation. +Argument. Scorn. Tears. Farewell. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: SO THAT DOESN'T COUNT. + +"Are you sure they're quite Fresh?" "Wot a Question to arst! Can't +yer see they're Alive?" "Yes; but _you_'re _Alive_, you know!"] + + * * * * * + +GREAT WHEEL GOSSIP. + +Are you quite sure that it is safe? + +Well, there have been all sorts of stories about this sort of thing, +but I don't believe it. The PRINCE went, you know. + +Oh, yes, of course. Then that's all right. Now we are off. How +interesting! We can see the tops of the houses! But what are we waiting +for? + +Oh, for other passengers to get into the cars. How long does it take? + +About three-quarters of an hour. Well, now we are off again. + +Why, there is a mist, and we can't see anything. + +Oh, yes, we can. Why, that must be either Kensington Gardens, Hyde Park +Corner, or Battersea Park. + +Don't think there is much in it. And why are we stopping? + +People getting in and out. Well, now we have had thirty-five minutes of +it, I shall be glad to be home. + +Oh, here we are. Now we can get out. Come, that is nice! + +No, we can't! _We have missed the landing, and have to go round +again._[1] + +After two journeys I think the best way of thoroughly enjoying the +Wheel is to sit fast, close your eyes, and think of something else! + +[1] A fact. July 6. Mr. _Punch's_ Representative was taken +round twice--the second time against his will--in company with an +indignant shareholder and several impatient, yet sorrowful, passengers, +who complained of missing appointments, &c., in consequence of their +"extra" turn.] + + * * * * * + +IN THE EARL'S COURT INDIA. + +IN BOMBAY STREET, INDIAN CITY. TIME--ABOUT EIGHT P.M. + +_A Matron_ (_to her friend, as they approach the natives at work_). +Everything seems for sale here, my dear. _Just_ the place to get a +nice wedding-present for dear EMILY. I want to give her +_something_ Indian, as she will be going out there so soon. What +are they doing in here? oh, glass-blowing!... See, JANE, +this one is making glass bangles.... Well, no, EMILY would +think it _rather_ shabby if I gave her a pair of those. I might get +one apiece for Cook and PHOEBE--servants are always so +grateful for any little attention of that sort--though I shouldn't +like to encourage a taste for finery; well, it will do very well when +we come back.... Perhaps one of those brass dinner-gongs--there's a +large one, I see, marked seven-and-sixpence--but I'd rather give her +something _quieter_--something she'd value for its _own_ sake.... Now +one of those chased silver bowls--twenty-five-and-nine-pence? Well, +it seems a little----and though I was always very fond of her mother, +EMILY was never----I must _think_ over it.... She might like a +set of beetle-wing mats--only they're not likely to entertain much.... +How would one of these embroidered tablecloths--eh? oh, I'm sure I've +seen them much cheaper at LIBERTY'S; and besides----(_After +a prolonged inspection of various articles at various stalls._) After +all, I shall be going to Tunbridge Wells next week. I think I'll wait. +I might see something there I liked _better_, you know! + +[Illustration: "Stands smiling feebly"] + +_A Wife_ (_to her husband, who is examining the stock of a native +shoemaker with interest_). No, CHARLES. I put up with a _great +deal_ for the sake of your society of an evening; but if you imagine I +am going to have you sitting opposite me with your feet in a pair of +slippers separated into two horrid toes, you make a great mistake! Put +the dreadful things down and come away. + +_Mr. McPairtan_ (_from the North, to his small nephew_). Eh, +ROBBIE, my man, I'm thinking your mither wouldna' just +approve o' my takkin' ye to sic a perfairmance as yon Burrmese +dancing-women.... Nay, nay, laddie, there's deceitfulness eneugh in +the naitural man withoot needing to lairn ony mair o't fro' these +puir juggling Indian bodies wi' their snake-chairmin' an' sic godless +doins!... Ride on the elephant? Havers! Ye can do that fine in the +Zooloagical Gairdens.... 'Twould be just sinful extrawvagance in me to +be throwing away guid siller wi' so mony bonny sichts to be seen for +naething. + +_Mr. Gourmay_ (_who is dying for his dinner, to his pretty cousins, who +cannot be got past the Indian craftsmen_). Yes, yes, very interesting, +and all that; but we can see it just as well if we come back _later_, +you know. + +_His Cousin Belle._ But they may have stopped by then. I _must_ just +see him finish the pattern; it's too _fascinating!_ + +_Mr. Gourm._ I--er--don't want to _hurry_ you, you know, only, you see, +if we don't look sharp, we shan't be in time to secure an outside table +at the Restaurant. Much jollier dining in the open air. + +_His Cousin Imogen._ Oh, it's too hot to _think_ of food. I'm not in +the _least_ hungry--are _you_, Belle? + +_Belle._ No; I'd ever so much rather see the Burmese dancers and the +Indian conjurors. I don't want to waste the best part of the evening +over dinner; we might have some of that nice Indian tea and a piece of +cake by-and-by, perhaps, if there's time. + + [_Speechless delight of_ Mr. GOURMAY. + +_Energetic Leader_ (_to his party, who are faint, but pursuing_). No, +there's nothing particular to see here. I tell you what _my_ plan is. +We'll go and do the Kinetoscopes and the Phonographs, have a look at +the Great Wheel, and some shots at the Rifle Range, cross over and +take a turn on the Switchback, finish up with a cold-meat supper at +SPIERS AND POND'S, and a stroll round the band-stand, and, by +the time we've done, we shall have got a very fair idea of what India's +_like!_ + +_First Relative_ (_to Second_). What's become of Aunt JOANNA? +I thought she was going on one of the elephants. + +_Second Relative._ She would have it none of 'em looked strong enough +for her. And what _do_ you think she goes and does next? Tries to +bargain with a black man to take her for a turn on one o' them little +bullock-carts! I really hadn't the patience to stop and see what come +of it. + +_Miss Rashleigh_ (_by the Burmese Cheroot Stall, audibly, to her +companion_). Just look at this girl, my dear, with a great cigar in +her mouth! Fancy their being New Women in Burmah! And such a _hideous_ +creature, too! + +_Her Companion._ Take care, my dear, she'll hear you. I expect she +understands English. + +_Miss Rashleigh_ (_with ready tact and resourcefulness_). Then let's +tell her how pretty she is! + +IN THE INDIAN JUNGLE. + +_Mr. Moul_ (_to_ Mrs. MOUL, _as they halt before a darkened +interior representing a coolie sleeping in an Indian hut, which a +leopard is stealthily entering_). Ah, now I do call that something +_like!_ Lovely! _ain't_ it? + +_Mrs. Moul._ It's beautiful. 'Ow ever they can _do_ it all! (_After a +pause_.) Why, I do believe there's a _animal_ of some sort up at the +further end! Can you see him, SAMSON? + +_Mr. Moul._ A animal! where? Ah, I can make out somethink now. (_With +pleased surprise._) And look--there's a man layin' down right in +front--do you see? + +_Mrs. Moul._ Well, I never! so there is! To think o' _that_ now. They +_'ave_ got it up nice, I will say that. + + [_They pass out, pleased with their own powers of observation._ + +IN THE INDIAN THEATRE. + +_Hindu Magician_ (_as he squats on the stage and takes out serpents +from flat baskets_). Here is a sna-ake--no bite--Bombay cobra, verri +good cobra. (_Introducing them formally to audience._) Dis beeg +cobra, dis smahl cobra. (_One of them erects its hood and strikes at +his foot,_ _which he withdraws promptly._) No bite, verri moch nice +sna-ake. (_He plays a tune to them; one listens coldly and critically, +the others slither rapidly towards the edge of the platform, to the +discomposure of spectators in the front row; the_ Magician _recaptures +them by the tail at the critical moment, ties them round his neck and +arms, and then puts them away, like toys._) Here I have shtone; verri +good Inglis shtone. I hold so. (_Closing it in his fist._) Go away, +shtone. Go to Chicago, Leeverpool, Hamburg. (_Opening fist._) Shtone +no dere. I shut again. (_Opening fist._) One, two, Inglis shillin's. +(_Singling out a_ Spectator.) You, Sar, come up here queeck. Comonn! + +_The Spectator._ Not me! Not among all them snakes you've got +there--don't you think it! + +_The Magician and a Tom-tom player_ (_together_). Verri nice +sna-akes--no bite. Comonn, help play. + +_Angelina_ (_to_ EDWIN, _as the invitation is coyly but firmly +declined_). EDWIN, do go up and help the man--to please _me_. +And if you find him out in cheating, you can expose him, you know. + + [EDWIN _clambers up and stands, smiling feebly, at the_ + Magician's _side amidst general applause_. + +_The Magician_ (_to_ EDWIN). Sit down, sit down, sit down. Now +you count--how menni sillings? Dere is seeks. + +_Edwin_ (_determined not to be taken in_). Four, you mean. + +_The Magician._ I tell you seeks. Count after me--One, tree, five, +seeks. Shtill onli four, you say? Shut dem in your hand--so. Now blow. +(EDWIN _puffs at his fist_.) Open your hand, and count. One, +two, tree, four, five, seeks, summon, ight, nine, tin, like, vise! Dis +Inglisman make money verri moch nice; verri goot Inglisman. Put dem in +your hand again, and shut. Hûblo! Now open. + + [EDWIN _opens his fist, to discover in it two small and + extremely active serpents, which he rejects in startled dismay_. + +_Angelina_ (_to herself_). How _nasty_ of EDWIN! He _must_ +have felt them inside. + +_The Magician_ (_to_ EDWIN). Verri nice sna-akes; but where +is my monni? (EDWIN _shakes his head helplessly_.) Ah, dis +Inglisman too moch plenti cheat. (_He seizes_ EDWIN'S _nose, +from which he extracts a shower of shillings_.) Aha! Verri goot Inglis +nose--hold plenty monni! + +_Angelina_ (_as_ EDWIN _returns to her in triumph_). No; +_please_ turn your head away, EDWIN. I can't _look_ at your +nose without thinking of those horrid shillings; and oh, are you +_quite_ sure you haven't got any of those horrid snakes up your sleeve? +I do _wish_ you hadn't gone! + + [_So does_ EDWIN. + +_A Serious Old Lady_ (_as the_ Magician _produces from his throat +several yards of coloured yarn, a small china doll, about a gross of +tenpenny nails, and a couple of eggs_). Clever, my dear? I daresay; +but it seems to me a pity that a man who has been given such talents +shouldn't turn them to better account! + + * * * * * + +ELECTION INTELLIGENCE. + +_Brybury-on-the-Pocket._--Both candidates very busy. Meetings are +being held all day long at the principal hotels, and any number of +livery-stable-keepers have promised to lend their carriages on the +day of election. The agents on either side have an enormous staff of +assistants, and trade was never known to be brisker during the present +century. + +_Crowncrushington._--This will be a very near contest. As political +feeling runs rather high, a number of extra beds have been prepared in +the hospitals. The police have been reinforced, and the military are +close at hand, and every other preparation has been made to secure the +declaration of the poll with as little friction as possible. + +_Meddle-cum-Muddleborough._--At present there are seven candidates, +but as three of these have issued their manifestoes under some +misapprehension it is not unlikely that the number will be reduced +before the day of nomination. It is not easy to foretell the result, as +since the establishment of the ballot every election has ended not only +in surprise but stupefaction. + +_Selfseekington._--It is not unlikely that there will be no contest +in this important borough. The (until recently) sitting member has +fixed the day that would naturally have fallen to the function of the +returning officer for the laying of the foundation stones of his Baths, +Wash-houses, Free Library and Town Hall, and the opening of his Public +Park. + +_Wrottenborough._--The popular candidate has pledged himself to +supporting Local Veto, the Licensed Victuallers, Establishment, +Disestablishment, Home Rule, the Integrity of the Empire, +Anti-Vaccination, the Freedom of the Medical Profession, and many other +matters of conflicting importance. The polling will be of a perfunctory +character, as expenses are being cut down on both sides. + +_Zany-town-on-the-Snooze._--There will be no contest in this division. +At present there is no intelligence of any sort to chronicle. + + * * * * * + +TAG FOR THE TESTIMONIAL.--"The power of GRACE, the +magic of a name." + + * * * * * + +DALY NEWS, AND DRAMATIC NOTES. + +Ere these lines can appear, the _Two Gentlemen of Verona_ and their +two Ladies will have vanished from Daly's Theatre like the baseless +fabric of a dream, leaving, however, a very pleasant recollection of +the play in the minds of all who saw it--and a great many did, for +SHAKSPEARE'S _Two Gents_ is a dramatic curiosity. Prettily +put on the stage as it was, with good music, picturesque costumes +and clever acting, it will dwell in our memories as an exceptionally +attractive revival. + +Mr. GEORGE CLARKE, the "stern parient," appeared as something +between a Doge and a Duke, and equally good as either, you bet; that +is, "'lowing," as _Uncle Remus_ has it, that either Doge or Duke +has passed the greater part of his life in the United States. Mr. +FRANK WORTHING (nice seasidey name on a hot night in town) +a gentlemanly-villainous _Proteus_, and Mr. JOHN CRAIG an +equally gentlemanly-virtuous _Valentine_. So "Gents both" are disposed +of. Mr. _James Lewis_, as _Launce_, playing "the lead" to his dog, put +into the part new humour in place of the old which has evaporated by +fluxion of time. _Launce's_ sly dog, very original; part considerably +curtailed. + +[Illustration: The Duke discovers the rope-ladder under Valentine's +cloak. + +"The Rope Trick exposed."] + +I see that a descendant of TYRONE POWER appears as "Mine +Host." I did not gather from his costume that he was "a host in +himself," but thought he was a Venetian Judge or retired Doge; the +latter surmise receiving some confirmation from the fact that, while +the singing was going on, he, being somnolent, "doge'd" (as _Mrs. +Gamp_ would say) in his chair. Sleeping or waking his was a dignified +performance. Miss ELLIOT a graceful _Sylvia_, who, as a +Milanese brunette, is artistically contrasted with Miss ADA +REHAN, of Florentine fairness, as _Julia_. All that is wanting +to this sketchy character Miss REHAN fills in, and makes the +design a finished picture. Improbable that _Proteus_ should never +recognize _Julia_ when disguised as a boy until she herself reveals her +identity. However, it was a very early work of WILLIAM'S: mere +child's play. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: Miss Rehan as Julia. + +"The Third Page in her Life."] + + * * * * * + +The most Clement of critics, our learned and ever amiable Scotus of +the _Daily Telegraph_, speaking with authority from his column last +Saturday, recalls to us how many English actors and actresses have +successfully played in French on the Parisian stage, and adds to the +list the name of MARIE HALTON, who, excellent both in singing +and acting as _La Cigale_ at the Lyric, will soon appear at a new +theatre in Paris, where she is to "create" French _rôles_--which, +Mlle. MARIE, is a very pleasant way of making your bread. But +if we have in this actress an English _Chaumont_, why does not some +such astute manager as Mr. EDWARDES, the Universal Theatre +Provider, induce HALTON to Stay on--here, not only for her own +"benefit," but for that of the Light Opera-loving public. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: TRUE HYPERBOLE. + +_He._ "What a lovely Frock!... _Worth_, I suppose?" _She._ +"MONSIEUR WORTH IS DEAD." + +_He._ "Ah! it _looks_ as if it came from Heaven!"] + + * * * * * + +THE OLD CHIEFTAIN'S FAREWELL. + + ["The impending Dissolution brings into its practical and final + form the prospective farewell which I addressed last year to the + constituency of Midlothian."--_Mr. Gladstone's Farewell Letter to the + Electors of Midlothian._] + +AIR--_Burns's "The Farewell."_ + + It was a' for our Glorious Cause + I sought fair Scotland's strand; + It was a' for fair, rightfu' laws + To bless the Irish land, + My dear; + To bless the Irish land. + + Now a' is done that man could do, + And a' seems done in vain, + My loved Midlothian, farewell, + I mauna stand again, + My dear; + I canna stand again. + + For fifteen lang an' happy years, + That ne'er may be forgot, + We have foregathered, loved, and fought. + Fare farther I may not, + My dear; + Fare farther may I not. + + Yet say not that our love has failed, + Or that our battle's lost; + Were I yet young I'd fight again, + And never count the cost, + My dear; + And never count the cost. + + Tegither we've won mony a fight, + You following where I led; + But now late Winter's chilling snows + Are gatherin' round my head, + My dear; + Are gatherin' round my head. + + And times will change, and Chieftains pass. + Lang time I've borne the brunt + Of war; and now I'm glad to see + CARMICHAEL to the front, + My dear; + Sir TAMMY to the front. + + A champion stout, I mak nae doubt, + He'll carry on my task. + To see ye braw and doing weel, + Henceforth is a' I ask. + My dear; + Henceforth is a' I ask. + + True Scot am I--Midlothian's heart + I won. Now I fare far, + And leave a younger chieftain, TAM, + To lead the Lowland war, + My dear; + To lead the Lowland war! + + * * * + + He turned him right and round about + Upon the Scottish shore. + He gae his bonnet plume a shake, + With "Adieu for evermore, + My dear; + Adieu for evermore! + + "ROSEBERY will from fight return, + Wi' loss or else wi' gain; + But I am parted from my love, + Never to meet again, + My dear; + Never to meet again. + + "When day is gone, and night is come, + A' folk are fain to rest; + I'll think on thee, though far awa', + While pulse throbs in this breast, + My dear; + While pulse throbs in my breast!" + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +SMITH, ELDER & CO. are carrying out a happy thought in +projecting what they call the Novel Series, a title which is the least +felicitous part of the business. It is designed to meet the views of +those who desire to possess, not to borrow (or indeed to steal) good +books. The volumes will not be too large to be carried in the pocket, +nor too small to lie on the shelf. Neatly bound, admirably printed, +they are to cost from two shillings up to four shillings, presumably +according to length and the inclusion of illustrations. The series +leads off with _The Story of Bessie Costrell_, by Mrs. HUMPHRY +WARD. The story, if not precisely pleasant, is decidedly powerful. +Once taken up, there is uncontrollable disposition to read on to the +end, a yearning the size of the volume makes it possible conveniently +to satisfy. The new series starts with a promise announcements of +succeeding contributions seem likely to fulfil. + + THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS. + + * * * * * + +New Carillon at the Royal Exchange. + +The tunes are admirably selected. First air every morning, "I know a +Bank," to be known as "The Morning Air." + +_For Panic Days._--"Oh dear, what can the matter be!" + +_Bad Business Days._--"Nae luck about 'the House.'" + +_Good Business._--"Here we go up, up, up!" + +_South African Market Chorus._--"Mine for Evermore!" + +This scheme of arrangement is to be generally known as "_The Bells' +Stratagem_." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "ARE YOU READY?" + +(S-L-SB-RY _and_ R-S-B-RY _starting the Bicyclist +Competitors_ B-LF-R _and_ H-RC-RT.)] + + * * * * * + +SCRAPS FROM CHAPS. + +A REAL UNCROWNED KING.--At a meeting of the Town Commissioners +of Kinsale, a report of the proceedings discloses a conversation of a +truly remarkable kind-- + + "The Chairman thought that if they paid Mr. PUNCH his + quarter's salary up to the 1st February they would be dealing very + fairly with him, especially as they had appointed his son as his + successor.... Messrs. KIELY and P. S. O'CONNOR + contended that as Mr. PUNCH was never dismissed by them, and + the non-performance of his duties was through no fault of his own, he + was entitled to some remuneration." + +We should think he was, indeed! _Some_ remuneration, quotha? Does +not the mere fact that he bears a name honoured and revered in every +corner of the globe entitle him to a pension on the very highest +scale known to the L. G. B.? Not, we need hardly say, an "old age" +pension. Perpetual youth is the prerogative of all PUNCHES. +And they "have appointed his son as his successor." Well, of course! +How can a PUNCH do anything but succeed? He would be a rum +PUNCH if he didn't! Greetings to our distant kinsman of +Kinsale! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: MAKING ALLOWANCES. + +_The Little Minister._ "HOW WELL YOU'RE LOOKING, MAC-CULLUM!" + +_The Big Farmer._ "WEEL--I'M WEEL IN PAIRTS. BUT I'M OWER MUCKLE TO +BE WEEL ALL OWER AT AIN TIME!"] + + * * * * * + +ONE MAN, ONE TOPPER!--In the _Glasgow Herald_ somebody writes +as follows:-- + + "It is surely time Mr. DUNCAN saw to his bus-drivers' hats! + Such a miscellaneous collection of seedy hats, I think, could not be + found elsewhere; they are a positive disgrace to the city." + +The writer ought to have signed himself "MACBETH;" the +"unguarded DUNCAN," whoever he may be, must be on his guard, +or passengers will strike for better hats. All bus-drivers and +conductors should wear silk hats, to typify the habitual softness of +their address. Why not put them into livery at once? The company that +did that would probably attract no end of custom. No revolution like +it, since the abolition of the box-seat! Uniform charges and uniformed +conductors should be the future rule of the road. + + * * * * * + +"NOT KILT, BUT SPACHELESS."--At Clonakilty Sessions the other +day, the following evidence was given:-- + + "PATRICK FEEN was examined, and stated he resided at + Dunnycove, parish of Ardfield.... Gave defendant's brother a blow of + his open hand and knocked him down for fun, and out of friendship. + (_Laughter._)" + +What a good-natured, open-handed friend Mr. PATRICK FEEN must +be! JOHN HEGARTY, the person assaulted, corroborated the +account, and added,-- + + "When he was knocked down, he stopped there. (_Laughter._)" + +In fact, he "held the field," and "remained in possession of the +ground." Who will now say that the old humour is dying out in Erin? + + * * * * * + +OF DR. TRISTRAM (SHANDY) IN THE INCONSISTORY COURT.--"O +TRISTRAM! TRISTRAM! TRISTRAM!" * * "And pray which way is this +affair of TRISTRAM at length settled by these learned men?" + + _"Toby" to Yorick._ + + * * * * * + +What a nice dish for lunch would be what we find mentioned in the +Racing Order of the Day, _i.e._ "_Plate of 150 sous_." Excellent! To be +washed down with a draught of Guineas stout! + + * * * * * + +BRIGGS, OF BALLIOL. + +PART I. + +BRIGGS was the gayest dog in Balliol. If there was a bonfire +in the quad, and if the dons found their favourite chairs smouldering +in the ashes, BRIGGS was at the bottom of it. If the bulldogs +were led a five-mile chase at one o'clock in the morning, the gownless +figure that lured them on was BRIGGS. If the supper at +VINNIE'S became so uproarious that the Proctor thought it +necessary to interfere, the gentleman that dropped him from the +first-floor window was BRIGGS. Anyone else would have been +sent down over and over again, but--BRIGGS stroked the Balliol +boat: BRIGGS had his cricket blue; BRIGGS was a dead +certainty against Cambridge for the quarter and the hundred: in short, +BRIGGS was indispensable to the College and the 'Varsity, and +therefore he was allowed to stay. + +But what is this? A change has come over BRIGGS. He is another +man. Can it be----? Impossible--and yet? Yes, it began that very +night. Everyone has heard of Miss O'GRESS, the Pioneer. She +came up to Oxford to lecture; her subject was "Man: his Position and +_Raison d'être_." BRIGGS and I went to hear; went in light +laughing mood with little fear of any consequences. We listened to +the O'GRESS. "There is no doubt," she said, "that Man was +intended by Nature to be the Father. For this high calling he should +endeavour to fit himself by every means in his power. He should +cultivate his body so as to render himself attractive to Woman. He +should be tall,"--her eye fell on BRIGGS--"he should be +handsome,"--still on BRIGGS--"he should be graceful, he +should be athletic."--At this point her eye seemed fairly to feast on +BRIGGS, and a curious lurid light lowered in it. She paused a +moment. I was sitting next to BRIGGS, and I felt a shiver run +through him. I looked at his face, and it was ghastly pale. I asked him +in a whisper if he felt faint? He impatiently motioned me to be silent, +and remained, as I thought, like a bird paralysed beneath the gaze of a +serpent. I heard no more, so anxious was I on my friend's account; nor +could I breathe with any freedom until the audience rose and we were +once again in the fresh air. + +The following day there was a garden-party at Trinity. BRIGGS +said he was playing for the 'Varsity against Lancashire, and therefore +could not go. Imagine my surprise then, when, as I was doing the polite +among the strawberries and cream, I caught sight of him slinking down +the lime grove at the heels of the O'GRESS. I rubbed my eyes +and looked again. Yes, it was BRIGGS indeed. The face was his; +the features were his; the figure was his; the clothes were his--but, +the buoyant step? the merry laugh? where, where, eh! where were they? + + * * * + +The Long Vac. passed, and we were all up again for Michaelmas Term. +There was a blank in our circle. "Where's BRIGGS?" asked +BROWN. "Where's BRIGGS?" asked TROTTER of +Trinity. We looked at one another. What! Nobody seen BRIGGS? +Not up yet?--Better go and see. We went to his rooms. No +BRIGGS there, and not a sign of his coming. We went to +JONES. JONES knew no more than we; to SMITH, +GREEN, ROBERTS--all equally ignorant. At last we +tried the Porter. What! hadn't we heard the news? News? No! What +news? The Porter's face grew long. Why, Mr. BRIGGS, 'e +weren't comin' up no more. Not coming up? Not coming up? Nonsense! +Impossible!--Fact, gentlemen, fact. The Master,'e'd 'ad a note from Mr. +BRIGGS, sayin' as 'ow 'e wouldn't be back agin. No one knew +nothink more than that. No one could explain it. + +There was despair in Balliol. What would become of us? Without +BRIGGS we could never catch B. N. C. Magdalen would bump +us to a certainty, and we could hardly hope to escape the House. +In football it would be just as bad. Keble and Exeter would simply +jump on us, and not a single Balliol man would have his blue. The +position was appalling; ruin stared us in the face; the College was in +consternation, for BRIGGS had disappeared. + + * * * * * + +NOTE BY A NATIONALIST. + + "Home Rule all Round!" That cry is in the air: + What Ireland wants, though, is Home Rule all _square_. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "IS YOUR SON IMPROVING IN HIS VIOLIN-PLAYING, MR. +JONES?" + +"WELL--EITHER HE'S IMPROVING, OR WE'RE GETTING USED TO IT!"] + + * * * * * + +Thomas Henry Huxley. + + BORN, MAY 4, 1825. DIED, JUNE 30, 1895. + + Another star of Science slips + Into the shadow of eclipse!-- + Yet no; the _light_ is nowise gone, + But burning still, and travelling on + The unborn future to illume, + And dissipate a distant gloom. + True man of Science he, yet more, + Master of metaphysic lore, + Lover of history and of art, + He played a multifarious part. + With clear head and incisive tongue + Dowered, on all he touched he flung + Those rarer charms of grace and wit. + Great learning may not always hit. + To his "liege lady Science" true, + He narrowed not a jealous view + To her alone, but found all life + With charm and ethic interest rife. + Knowing plain lore of germ and plant, + With dreams of HAMILTON and KANT, + All parts of the great human plan. + England in him has lost a Man. + The great Agnostic, clear, brave, true, + Taught more things, may be, than he deemed he knew. + + * * * * * + +Business. + +_Inquirer_ (_drawing up prospectus_). Shall I write "Company" with a +big C? + +_Honest Broker._ Certainly, if it's a sound one, as it represents +"Company" with a capital. + + * * * * * + +MR. BRIEFLESS, JUN., ON THE LONG VACATION. + +Unfortunately I was prevented, by an appointment of a semi-professional +character--I had been desired by a maiden aunt to give her my advice +upon a question, of damage arising out of a canine assault committed +by her lap-dog--from being present at the General Meeting of the Bar, +and consequently was unable to take part in the annual deliberations of +my learned and friendly colleagues. From what passed on the occasion +to which I refer, I gather that there was an inclination to call the +Benchers of the Inns of Court to account. It seems to me--and I believe +that I am right in the opinion--that, so long as our Masters worthily +represent the dignity of the profession, we Members of the Inner and +Outer Bar have no tangible cause for complaint. + +But I fancy the leading subject at the Forensic Congress was the Long +Vacation. Judging from the numerous letters that have reached me +from both branches of the profession, this is a matter of the first +importance to all of us. I have been asked by many of my learned and +friendly colleagues, and my nearly equally learned and even more +friendly clients, to give my opinion on the subject. One respected +correspondent who hails from Ely Place, writes, "How could you possibly +recover from the wear and tear of your arduous practice in Trinity +Term, had you not a part of August and nearly the whole of September +and October ready to hand for recuperation?" I quite agree with Sir +GEORGE--I should say, my respected correspondent--that as I +near "the long," I do feel the need of rest--nay, even considerable +rest. Then a learned friend who represents not only the Bar, but +chivalry in its forensic form, sends me a caricature of "DICKY +W." that would suggest that were the holidays to be decreased, +a wearer of a most distinguished order, and an athlete of no small +fame would be reduced to a condition of complete collapse. Once again, +an ornament to our Bench--perhaps the greatest ornament--honours me +with the suggestion that were we to lose a month of recreation, it +might sadden the terraces of Monte Carlo, and eclipse the merriment of +Newmarket Heath. It is needless to state that all these communications +have had weight with me. Still, I have deemed it desirable to approach +the subject with an open mind. It seems to me (and no doubt to many +others) that the question narrows itself into a matter of finance. I +have therefore taken PORTINGTON into my counsels, and examined +with unusual care the pages of my Fee Book. After much consultation +with my admirable and excellent clerk, and an exhaustive audit of +the figures of my forensic _honoraria_, I have come to the matured +conclusion that the lengthening or the shortening of the Long Vacation +does not affect me financially in the very least. + + (_Signed_) A. BRIEFLESS, JUNIOR. + + _Pump-handle Court, June 22, 1895._ + + * * * * * + +Football is to be played in all the schools and colleges of Russia. The +champion of the game is known as Prince KHIKOFF. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE FATE OF ROTTEN ROW.] + + * * * * * + +ON VIEW AT HENLEY. + +The most characteristic work of that important official, the clerk of +the weather. + +The young lady who has never been before, and wants to know the names +of the eights who compete for the Diamond Sculls. + +The enthusiastic boating man, who, however, prefers luncheon when the +hour arrives, to watching the most exciting race imaginable. + +The itinerant vendors of "coolers" and other delightful comestibles. + +The troupes of niggers selected and not quite select. + +The house-boat with decorations in odious taste, and company to match. + +The "perfect gentleman's rider" (from Paris) who remembers boating +at Asnières thirty years ago, when JULES wore when rowing +lavender kid-gloves and high top-boots. + +The calm mathematician (from Berlin), who would prefer to see the races +represented by an equation. + +The cute Yankee (from New York), who is quite sure that some of the +losing crews have been "got at" while training. + +The guaranteed enclosure, with band, lunch and company of the same +quality. + +The "very best view of the river" from a dozen points of the compass. + +Neglected maidens, bored matrons, and odd men out. + +Quite the prettiest toilettes in the world. + +The Thames Conservancy in many branches. + +Launches: steam, electric, accommodating and the reverse. + +Men in flannels who don't boat, and men in tweeds who do. + +A vast multitude residential, and a vaster come per rail from town. + +Three glorious days of excellent racing, at once national and unique. + +An aquatic festival, a pattern to the world. + +And before all and above all, a contest free from all chicanery, and +the very embodiment of fairplay. + + * * * * * + +FROM A CORRESPONDENT.--"SIR,--I occasionally come +across allusions to '_Groves of Blarney_.' Which Groves was this? There +was a celebrated fishmonger known as '_Groves of Bond Street_;' is +Groves of Blarney an Irish branch of that family?" + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. + +_House of Commons, Monday, July 1._--Presto! Quick transformation scene +effected to-day. Conservatives to the right; Liberals to the left. +Stupendous, far-reaching change; one of those rarely happy events that +please everyone. Hearing what people say, it is difficult to decide +which the more pleased, Liberals at being turned out, or Conservatives +at springing in. On Ministerial side happiness marred in individual +cases by being left out of the Ministry. + +"I'm getting up in years now, TOBY," said THE +MARKISS, "and I've had pretty long experience in making up +Ministries. But I assure you I've been staggered during last week, +including in special degree the last hour. The more offices assigned, +the narrower becomes the basis of operation, and the more desperate +the rush of the attacking party. You'd be surprised if you saw the +list of men who have asked me for something. As a rule they don't put +it in that general way. They know precisely what they want, and are +not bashful in giving it a name, though they usually end up by saying +that if this particular post is disposed of, anything else will do. +In fact, like the cabman and the coy fare, they leave it to me. I am, +as you know, of placid temperament, inclined to take genial views of +my fellow-man. But I declare, if the process of forming a Ministry +under my direction were extended beyond a fortnight, I should become a +confirmed cynic." + +_Business done._--Parties change sides. + +_Tuesday._--"_Quel jour pour le bon Joé!_" said my Friend, dropping +with easy grace into the French of Alderney-atte-Sark. + +House full, considering the nearness of Dissolution. Members anxious +above all things to meet their constituents. Grudge every hour that +holds them from their embrace. Still, it is well upon occasion to +practise self-denial. Ten days or even a fortnight with constituents +during progress of contest inevitable. Just as well not to anticipate. +So House crowded to see PRINCE ARTHUR return. Slight flush +on his cheek as with swinging stride he comes to take up sceptre +PEEL once held, that DIZZY deftly wielded, that +GLADSTONE of late laid down. After him, second only to +him, JOSEPH--JOSEPH in his very best summer +suit, appropriate to occasion when sun shines most brightly. Then +JOKIM, who has descended to frivolity of white waistcoat, +which casts ghastly pallor over festive scene. Last of all, type in +these days of stern, unbending Toryism, MICHAEL HICKS-BEACH. + +[Illustration: LEFT OUT! (A Study of several Distinguished Persons, +who are unable to appreciate the charms of "Coalition"!)] + +"BEACH," said SARK, coming back to the English +tongue, "has never either manoeuvred or wobbled. He is of the +very flower of English political squirearchy. He has principles and +convictions, and he sticks to them. So, when a Conservative Ministry +arrives, he walks in last, and, on the Treasury Bench, takes any seat +others may not have appropriated. Consider these things, TOBY, +my boy. If you're bringing up any pups to a political career, the +study may be useful to you and them." PRIVATE HANBURY got +his stripes. After pegging away for years at Treasury, PRINCE +ARTHUR now put him on to repel attacks. Will do it well too. An +admirable appointment. Sad thing about it is, that it breaks up a +cherished companionship; parts friends by the height and width and back +of Treasury Bench. + +_Business done._--Ministers sworn in. + +_Thursday._--Notable change come over BOLTONPARTY in the last +few days. Unmistakable Retreat-from-Moscow look about him. When Liberal +Government went out and JOSEPH handed THE MARKISS to +the front, BOLTONPARTY beamed with large content. The Sun of +Austerlitz shone once more. + +"JOSEPH," he said, folding his arms in historic fashion, +letting his massive chin rest on his manly chest, what time his noble +brow shone with the radiance of mighty thoughts, "JOSEPH +will never forget his early friend and ally. It's not as if at the +last General Election I stood under his flag, won a seat, and laid +it at his feet. I fought North St. Pancras as a Home-Ruler, captured +it, and before new Parliament was many months old, went over to other +side, making early rift in lute of GLADSTONE'S majority. Some +men in such circumstances would have gone back to their constituency +and said, 'Dear boys, there's a mistake somewhere. You elected me on +a particular understanding. Since then I have taken another view of +the situation and of my duty. So I come back, return the trust you +placed in my hand, and give you opportunity of electing me again, or +choosing another man.' That might have led to inconvenience. Wouldn't +run any risk; so kept my seat, and voted steadily with JOSEPH. +Suppose they won't put me in the Cabinet right off? But I shall have +choice of first-class Under-Secretaryship. Shall it be War, Navy, or +Home Department? Any one excellent; but obviously I must go to the War +Office. Don't know whether there's any particular uniform for Financial +Secretary. If not, could soon knock one up from old portrait of the +Emperor." + +[Illustration: Virtue Rewarded! The new Secretary of the Treasury, Mr. +H-nb-ry.] + +Day after day BOLTONPARTY stayed at home, expecting every +hour to be sent for. Nothing came till Wednesday morning's papers +arrived, with, the news that son AUSTEN was Secretary to +the Admiralty, JESSE COLLINGS was installed at the Home +Office, and POWELL WILLIAMS--who never set a squadron +in the field, and didn't in any respect resemble the Emperor +NAPOLEON--was Financial Secretary to the War Office! "That's +bad enough, TOBY," said BOLTONPARTY, filing away an +iron tear that coursed down his steel-grey cheek. "But there's worse +behind. What do you think JOSEPH did when he heard I wasn't +all together pleased? He offered me a statue! Said he'd no doubt +AKERS-DOUGLAS could pick up on reasonable terms an old statue +of NAPOLEON; with a little touching up it would serve, and +there was a place ready on the site proposed for CROMWELL'S. +There was, he said, well-known picture of NAPOLEON Crossing +the Alps. Why shouldn't there be a statue of BOLTONPARTY +Crossing Marylebone Road, North Pancras? This is man's gratitude! I've +been cruelly Elba'd on one side, and nothing remains for me now but St. +Helena." + +[Illustration: Toby runs down to his Constituency.] + +_Business done._--All. + +_Saturday._--Prorogation to-day, with usual imposing ceremony. On +Monday, Dissolution. Off to the country. Of course no one opposes me in +Barks. But must do the civil thing by my constituents. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +109, July 13, 1895, by Various + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44660 *** diff --git a/44660-h/44660-h.htm b/44660-h/44660-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b174718 --- /dev/null +++ b/44660-h/44660-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1512 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 109. July 13, 1895, by Various. + </title> + + + <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg"/> + + + <style type="text/css"> + + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .lowercase {text-transform:lowercase;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .stage {padding-left: 6em;} + + hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + hr.poem {width: 15%; margin-left: 2%; margin-right: 90%;} + + span.pagenum {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem h3 {text-align: left;} + .poem h4 {text-align: left;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + + .figcenter, .figright, .figleft {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img {border: none;} + .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + .figleft {float: left;} + + p.author {text-align: right; margin-right: 3em;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.break-before { + page-break-before: always; +} + +.under {text-decoration:underline} + +epub headings + +.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } +.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } +.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } +.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } +.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } + + + + + div.trans-note {background: #EEEEEE; border: dashed 1px; border-width: 1px; + margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: center;} + --> + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44660 ***</div> + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <p class="ph2">Vol. 109.</p> + <hr class="full" /> + + <p class="ph2">July 13, 1895.</p> + <hr class="full" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 174px;"> +<a href="images/013full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/013.jpg" width="174" height="350" alt="OPERA SINGER" /></a> +</div> +<p class="ph2"><a name="OPERATIC_NOTES" id="OPERATIC_NOTES">OPERATIC NOTES.</a></p> + + +<p><i>Monday.</i>—Quite new Opera, <i>Faust</i>. Some people say they've heard it +before. Others add, "Yes, and more than once this season." Unwritten +law in <i>Codex Druriolanum</i> is "You can't have too much of a good +thing." There are a hundred different ways of dressing chicken; so +with <i>Faust</i>. This time <i>Faust</i> comes and is <i>Faust</i> served with +<i>Sauce Marguerite à l'Emma Eames</i>. Uncommonly good. <i>Faust lui-même à +l'Alvarez</i> goes down uncommonly well. <i>Mefisto-Plançon Sauce au bon +diable</i>, a little overdone, perhaps, but decidedly a popular dish. +Baton of <span class="sc">Bevignani</span> keeps all the ingredients well stirred up. +House full.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—<i>Carmen.</i> Madame <span class="sc">Bellincioni</span> and Signor +<span class="sc">Ancona</span> going strong. Capital house, spite of shadow of +dissolution being over us all.</p> + +<p><i>Wednesday.</i>—<i>Nozze di Figaro</i>, with <span class="sc">Emma Eames</span> as Countess, +singing charmingly, and looking like portrait of Court Beauty by Sir +<span class="sc">Peter Lely</span>. <i>Maurel-Almaviva</i> all right for voice, but not up +to his Countess in aristocratic appearance. However, this is in keeping +with character of nobleman whose most intimate friend is his barber, +and who makes love to the barber's <i>fiancée</i>, who is also his wife's +<i>femme de chambre</i>.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">ROUNDABOUT READINGS.</p> + +<p>At the Oxford and Cambridge Athletic Sports on Wednesday last, great +surprise was expressed at the defeat of the hitherto invincible Mr. +<span class="sc">C. B. Fry</span> by Mr. <span class="sc">Mendelson</span> in the Long Jump. Mr. +<span class="sc">Mendelson</span>, who comes to us from New Zealand, has not only done +a fine performance, but he has also jumped into fame. It is at any rate +obvious that it is quite impossible for him to represent his University +in the High Jump, for</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With a musical name (though he varies the spelling),</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">This youth from New Zealand is bound to go far.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He couldn't jump high, since (it's truth I am telling)</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">No master of music e'er misses a bar.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The Long Jump, snatched like a brand from the burning, practically gave +the victory in the whole contest to Cambridge, who also won the Weight, +the Mile, the Three Miles and the Quarter.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Light Blues triumphed, fortune being shifty;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">They cheered <span class="sc">FitzHerbert</span> sprinting home in fifty.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For strength the weight-man's parents have a hot son,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Witness the put of youthful Mr. <span class="sc">Watson</span>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="sc">Lutyens</span>, who always pleases as he goes,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Romped in, his glasses poised upon his nose.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And none that day with greater dash and go ran</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Than the Light Blue three-miler, Mr. <span class="sc">Horan</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>During the practice of the crews for Henley Regatta there has been one +exalted contest, which I cannot remember hearing of in former years. +My <i>Sporting Life</i> (of which I am a diligent and a constant reader) +informed me that "at one time it did seem as though Jupiter Pluvius was +about to swamp Old Boreas, but the latter proved too tough." Quite a +sporting event, evidently. Why, oh why, was not Old Boreas present when +Pelion was piled upon Ossa? The whole course of (pre) history might +have been changed.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A Newcastle contemporary has been discussing the art of adding to +the beauty of women by the use of cosmetics, &c. May I commend the +following extract to the notice of the ladies of England?</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"No woman is capable of being beautiful who is capable of being false. +The true art of assisting beauty consists in embellishing the whole +person by the ornaments of virtuous and commendable qualities. How +much nobler is the contemplation of beauty when it is heightened +by virtue! How faint and spiritless are the charms of a coquette, +when compared with the loveliness of innocence, piety, good-humour, +and truth—virtues which add a new softness to their sex, and even +beautify their beauty! That agreeableness possessed by the modest +virgin is now preserved in the tender mother, the prudent friend, and +the faithful wife. Colours artfully spread upon canvas may entertain +the eye, but not touch the heart; and she who takes no care to add +to the natural graces of her person, noble qualities, may amuse as a +picture, but not triumph as a beauty."</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Cheltenham is a pleasant place. I quote from a memory which is, I know, +miserably defective:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Year by year do England's daughters</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In the fairest gloves and shawls</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Troop to drink the Cheltenham waters,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And adorn the Cheltenham balls.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>This is not the place that one would naturally associate with violent +language over so small a matter as the rejection of some plans. A +quarrel, however, has taken place in the Town Council, and terrible +words have been spoken:—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"In the course of a discussion on the rejection of some plans, Mr. +<span class="sc">Margrett</span> accused the acting chairman of the Streets Committee +(Mr. <span class="sc">Parsonage</span>) with being influenced by personal and +political motives against the person (Mr. <span class="sc">Barnfield</span>) who +sent them in. Mr. <span class="sc">Parsonage</span> warmly retorted with the lie +direct, and told Mr. <span class="sc">Margrett</span> that he knew he was lying. Mr. +<span class="sc">Lenthall</span> accused Mr. <span class="sc">Parsonage</span> of being 'slip-shod' +in his method of bringing up the minutes of the Streets Committee, +because he had passed over without comment a dispute between the +Corporation and the Board of Guardians. While denying this imputation, +Mr. <span class="sc">Parsonage</span> said he would even prefer to be 'slip-shod' +than to follow Mr. <span class="sc">Lenthall's</span> example of giving utterance to +a long-winded and frothy oration over such a trumpery matter as a road +fence."</p></blockquote> + +<p>After this I quite expected to read that some one—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;">... raised a point of order, when</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A chunk of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And he smiled a sort of sickly smile and curled upon the floor!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>But the matter seems to have dropped, and everything to have ended +peacefully—a great and bitter disappointment to all lovers of ructions.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Even in aquatic matters Ireland is a country of surprises. In the +Eight-oared race the other day for the "Pembroke Cup," there was a +dead-heat between the Shandon Boat Club and the Dublin University +Boat Club. In the row-off, the <i>Irish Independent</i> says that "Boat +Club caught the water first, but after a few strokes Shandon forged +in front. After the mile mark, Shandon were rowing eighteen against +the Boat Club's nineteen or twenty. In the next three hundred yards +Boat Club dropped to seventeen, the others being steady at nineteen +all through. About one hundred and fifty yards off the fishery step +the Boat Club quickened up to forty and got within two feet of their +opponents. Then, amid the greatest excitement, Boat Club got in front +and won by a canvas." A stroke oar who can row a race at nineteen to +the minute all through is steadier but certainly less versatile than +one who can spring suddenly from the rate of seventeen to the rate +of forty. As admirable as either is the genius of the reporter who +describes the event.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">H. M. Hyndman</span> is the Socialist candidate for Burnley. He +advocates "the immediate nationalisation and socialisation of railways, +mines, factories, and the land, with a view to establishing organised +co-operation for production and distribution in every department under +the control of the entire community. There should be a minimum wage +of thirty shillings a week in all State and Municipal employment, as +well as in State-created monopolies." There's a modest and practical +programme for you! But this windy gentleman's opponents may reply +that they prefer the system of each for himself, and d——l take the +<span class="sc">Hyndman</span>, to all the verbiage of the Socialist froth-pot.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Many reasons have been given for the fall of the late Government. It +has been left to a correspondent of the <i>Birmingham Daily Post</i> to +discover the real and only one. "It is most unfair," he says, "to hold +them entirely responsible for all the shortcomings, blunders, and +failures which distorted their administration. How could they help +these things? Has it never occurred to you that the Government of Lord +<span class="sc">Rosebery</span> was the '13th' Parliament of Queen <span class="sc">Victoria</span>? +Can anybody reasonably expect good government from a 13th Parliament? +It is out of all question." What <i>persiflage</i>, what wit!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>I sorrow over the new town clock of Dalkey. In my <i>Freeman's Journal</i> I +read that, at the monthly meeting of the Dalkey Township Commissioners, +a letter was read from Messrs. <span class="sc">Chancellor and Sons</span>, stating +that the new town clock could not be made to strike, but they could +make a new clock for £100. The letter was marked read—and no wonder. +If it can't strike, it had better be wound up, and Dalkey is obviously +the place to wind it. Otherwise there seems no reason in the Township's +name.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Clevedon is, I believe, in Somerset. Anyone in search of a sensation +ought to have gone there last week, for it is stated that "Mr. +<span class="sc">Victor Rosini's</span> Spectral Opera Company commenced a week's +engagement at the Public Hall on Monday evening." I cannot imagine +a spectral <i>basso</i> or <i>tenore robusto</i>. And in any case, why should +the unfortunate operatic spectres be harried into giving public +performances?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">Musical Honours!!</span>—The friends of Sir <span class="sc">Henry James, Q.C., +M.P.</span>, will celebrate his being raised to the peerage by serenading +with "<i>The Aylestone Chorus</i>."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<a href="images/014full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/014.jpg" width="800" height="571" alt=""VIVA L'ITALIA!"" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="ph4">"VIVA L'ITALIA!"</p> +<p><i>Admiral Punch</i> (<i>to Italia on the occasion of her Fleet visiting +England</i>). "<span class="sc">Welcome, <i>mia Bella</i>, to you and your splendid Ships! I +come of an old Italian Family myself!</span>"</p> +</div> +</div> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">HER PREVIOUS SWEETHEART.</p> + + +<p><i>Wednesday.</i>—Violet has accepted me, this very day, the happiest of +my life. She is the sweetest and prettiest woman in the world. I have +loved her long and passionately. She has not loved me long, and she +could never love me passionately. She is rather unemotional. Even when +I kissed her this afternoon for the first time she was quite calm. She +tells me she has once loved, as though she could never love again. Her +previous sweetheart was a Captain. I am a mere writer. His name was +<span class="sc">Percy Plantagenet Cholmondeley</span>. Mine is <span class="sc">Jones</span>. I hope +that in time she may forget him.</p> + + +<p><i>Thursday.</i>—Meet her in the Row, and sit under the trees. She is fond +of horses. So am I, but I do not ride often. She mentions that Captain +<span class="sc">Cholmondeley</span> was a splendid rider. Listen patiently to what +she tells me.</p> + +<p><i>Friday.</i>—To the Opera with <span class="sc">Violet</span> and her people. She +does not care for <span class="sc">Gounod's</span> <i>Faust</i>. Prefers a burlesque +with comic songs. Says the Captain sang comic songs admirably, with +banjo accompaniment. When it's well done, I also like that. Tell +her so. This encourages her to further reminiscences. Of course, +she is right to conceal nothing from me now we are engaged, but +frankness, even engaging frankness, may be carried too far. Manage +to change the subject at last, and then unfortunately the Soldier's +Chorus reminds her of a parody in an amateur burlesque which Captain +<span class="sc">Cholmondeley</span>——and so on.</p> + +<p><i>Saturday.</i>—Meet her at Hurlingham. She is so fond of polo. She says +the Captain was a splendid player. I expected that. A sort of Champion +of the World. Of course. I never played in my life. Listen to an +account of his exploits. Rather bored.</p> + +<p><i>Sunday.</i>—Up the river. Very hot day. Delightful to lounge in the +shade and smoke. <span class="sc">Violet</span> more energetic. Compels me to exert +myself. She says the Captain could do anything in a boat. No doubt. I +am prepared to hear that he shot the Falls of Niagara in a punt. He was +a wonderful genius. I am tired of hearing of him.</p> + +<p><i>Monday.</i>—To Mr. <span class="sc">Montgomery-Mumby's</span> dance. <span class="sc">Violet</span> +there of course. We both like dancing. Get on charmingly together. +Suddenly something reminds her of the ever-lamented Captain P. P. C. +I suggest that he has said good-bye to her for ever, as his initials +show. She does not see the little joke. Have to explain it to her. Then +she says it is a very poor joke. No doubt it is, but she needn't tell +me so. Annoying. A certain coolness between us.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—To the French play with <span class="sc">Violet</span> and her aunt. +She understands French very well. Seems to think a lot of me +because I know something of several languages. Ask her if Captain +<span class="sc">Cholmondeley</span> was fond of learning languages. Am prepared to +hear that he was a second <span class="sc">Mezzofanti</span>. On the contrary, it +seems that he couldn't speak a word of anything but English, and that +he didn't speak very much that was worth hearing even in that. The only +French he could understand was in a <i>menu</i>. Apparently he never read +anything else in any language, except the sporting papers in English. +Have at last found something he could not do. Delighted. Unfortunately +show this. <span class="sc">Violet</span> begins to defend him. I say he must have +been rather a duffer. She retorts that I can't play polo. What has that +to do with it? Again a coolness between us.</p> + +<p><i>Wednesday.</i>—It is all over! We have parted for ever. She could never +forget that confounded Captain. Asked her this morning, when she was +telling me of his shooting elephants, or alligators, or rabbits, or +sparrows, or something wonderful, why she did not marry him. She says +it was broken off. She shows me his last letter of farewell. I read +it critically. It is very short. Point out to her nine mistakes in +spelling, and four in grammar. She says I am brutal. Indignation. +Argument. Scorn. Tears. Farewell.</p> + + +<hr class="short" /> + + +<p class="ph3">GREAT WHEEL GOSSIP.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 463px;"> +<a href="images/015full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/015.jpg" width="363" height="400" alt="THAT DOESN'T COUNT" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="ph4">SO <span class="under">THAT</span> DOESN'T COUNT.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">"Are you sure they're quite Fresh?" "Wot a Question to arst! Can't +yer see they're Alive?" "Yes; but <i>you</i>'re <i>Alive</i>, you know!"</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Are you quite sure that it is safe?</p> + +<p>Well, there have been all sorts of stories about this sort of thing, +but I don't believe it. The <span class="sc">Prince</span> went, you know.</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, of course. Then that's all right. Now we are off. How +interesting! We can see the tops of the houses! But what are we waiting +for?</p> + +<p>Oh, for other passengers to get into the cars. How long does it take?</p> + +<p>About three-quarters of an hour. Well, now we are off again.</p> + +<p>Why, there is a mist, and we can't see anything.</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, we can. Why, that must be either Kensington Gardens, Hyde Park +Corner, or Battersea Park.</p> + +<p>Don't think there is much in it. And why are we stopping?</p> + +<p>People getting in and out. Well, now we have had thirty-five minutes of +it, I shall be glad to be home.</p> + +<p>Oh, here we are. Now we can get out. Come, that is nice!</p> + +<p>No, we can't! <i>We have missed the landing, and have to go round +again.</i><a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + + + +<p>After two journeys I think the best way of thoroughly enjoying the +Wheel is to sit fast, close your eyes, and think of something else!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">IN THE EARL'S COURT INDIA.</p> + +<p class="ph4"><span class="sc">In Bombay Street, Indian City. Time—About Eight p.m.</span></p> + +<p><i>A Matron</i> (<i>to her friend, as they approach the natives at work</i>). +Everything seems for sale here, my dear. <i>Just</i> the place to get a +nice wedding-present for dear <span class="sc">Emily</span>. I want to give her +<i>something</i> Indian, as she will be going out there so soon. What +are they doing in here? oh, glass-blowing!... See, <span class="sc">Jane</span>, +this one is making glass bangles.... Well, no, <span class="sc">Emily</span> would +think it <i>rather</i> shabby if I gave her a pair of those. I might get +one apiece for Cook and <span class="sc">Phœbe</span>—servants are always so +grateful for any little attention of that sort—though I shouldn't +like to encourage a taste for finery; well, it will do very well when +we come back.... Perhaps one of those brass dinner-gongs—there's a +large one, I see, marked seven-and-sixpence—but I'd rather give her +something <i>quieter</i>—something she'd value for its <i>own</i> sake.... Now +one of those chased silver bowls—twenty-five-and-nine-pence? Well, +it seems a little——and though I was always very fond of her mother, +<span class="sc">Emily</span> was never——I must <i>think</i> over it.... She might like a +set of beetle-wing mats—only they're not likely to entertain much.... +How would one of these embroidered tablecloths—eh? oh, I'm sure I've +seen them much cheaper at <span class="sc">Liberty's</span>; and besides——(<i>After +a prolonged inspection of various articles at various stalls.</i>) After +all, I shall be going to Tunbridge Wells next week. I think I'll wait. +I might see something there I liked <i>better</i>, you know!</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 403px;"> +<a href="images/016full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/016.jpg" width="403" height="500" alt=""Stands smiling feebly"" /></a> +<div class="caption">"Stands smiling feebly"</div> +</div> + + +<p><i>A Wife</i> (<i>to her husband, who is examining the stock of a native +shoemaker with interest</i>). No, <span class="sc">Charles</span>. I put up with a <i>great +deal</i> for the sake of your society of an evening; but if you imagine I +am going to have you sitting opposite me with your feet in a pair of +slippers separated into two horrid toes, you make a great mistake! Put +the dreadful things down and come away.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. McPairtan</i> (<i>from the North, to his small nephew</i>). Eh, +<span class="sc">Robbie</span>, my man, I'm thinking your mither wouldna' just +approve o' my takkin' ye to sic a perfairmance as yon Burrmese +dancing-women.... Nay, nay, laddie, there's deceitfulness eneugh in +the naitural man withoot needing to lairn ony mair o't fro' these +puir juggling Indian bodies wi' their snake-chairmin' an' sic godless +doins!... Ride on the elephant? Havers! Ye can do that fine in the +Zooloagical Gairdens.... 'Twould be just sinful extrawvagance in me to +be throwing away guid siller wi' so mony bonny sichts to be seen for +naething.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Gourmay</i> (<i>who is dying for his dinner, to his pretty cousins, who +cannot be got past the Indian craftsmen</i>). Yes, yes, very interesting, +and all that; but we can see it just as well if we come back <i>later</i>, +you know.</p> + +<p><i>His Cousin Belle.</i> But they may have stopped by then. I <i>must</i> just +see him finish the pattern; it's too <i>fascinating!</i></p> + +<p><i>Mr. Gourm.</i> I—er—don't want to <i>hurry</i> you, you know, only, you see, +if we don't look sharp, we shan't be in time to secure an outside table +at the Restaurant. Much jollier dining in the open air.</p> + +<p><i>His Cousin Imogen.</i> Oh, it's too hot to <i>think</i> of food. I'm not in +the <i>least</i> hungry—are <i>you</i>, Belle?</p> + +<p><i>Belle.</i> No; I'd ever so much rather see the Burmese dancers and the +Indian conjurors. I don't want to waste the best part of the evening +over dinner; we might have some of that nice Indian tea and a piece of +cake by-and-by, perhaps, if there's time.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="stage">[<i>Speechless delight of</i> Mr. <span class="sc">Gourmay</span>.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Energetic Leader</i> (<i>to his party, who are faint, but pursuing</i>). No, +there's nothing particular to see here. I tell you what <i>my</i> plan is. +We'll go and do the Kinetoscopes and the Phonographs, have a look at +the Great Wheel, and some shots at the Rifle Range, cross over and +take a turn on the Switchback, finish up with a cold-meat supper at +<span class="sc">Spiers and Pond's</span>, and a stroll round the band-stand, and, by +the time we've done, we shall have got a very fair idea of what India's +<i>like!</i></p> + +<p><i>First Relative</i> (<i>to Second</i>). What's become of Aunt <span class="sc">Joanna</span>? +I thought she was going on one of the elephants.</p> + +<p><i>Second Relative.</i> She would have it none of 'em looked strong enough +for her. And what <i>do</i> you think she goes and does next? Tries to +bargain with a black man to take her for a turn on one o' them little +bullock-carts! I really hadn't the patience to stop and see what come +of it.</p> + +<p><i>Miss Rashleigh</i> (<i>by the Burmese Cheroot Stall, audibly, to her +companion</i>). Just look at this girl, my dear, with a great cigar in +her mouth! Fancy their being New Women in Burmah! And such a <i>hideous</i> +creature, too!</p> + +<p><i>Her Companion.</i> Take care, my dear, she'll hear you. I expect she +understands English.</p> + +<p><i>Miss Rashleigh</i> (<i>with ready tact and resourcefulness</i>). Then let's +tell her how pretty she is!</p> + +<p class="ph4"><span class="sc">In the Indian Jungle.</span></p> + +<p><i>Mr. Moul</i> (<i>to</i> Mrs. <span class="sc">Moul</span>, <i>as they halt before a darkened +interior representing a coolie sleeping in an Indian hut, which a +leopard is stealthily entering</i>). Ah, now I do call that something +<i>like!</i> Lovely! <i>ain't</i> it?</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Moul.</i> It's beautiful. 'Ow ever they can <i>do</i> it all! (<i>After a +pause</i>.) Why, I do believe there's a <i>animal</i> of some sort up at the +further end! Can you see him, <span class="sc">Samson</span>?</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Moul.</i> A animal! where? Ah, I can make out somethink now. (<i>With +pleased surprise.</i>) And look—there's a man layin' down right in +front—do you see?</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Moul.</i> Well, I never! so there is! To think o' <i>that</i> now. They +<i>'ave</i> got it up nice, I will say that.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="stage">[<i>They pass out, pleased with their own powers of observation.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p class="ph4"><span class="sc">In the Indian Theatre.</span></p> + +<p><i>Hindu Magician</i> (<i>as he squats on the stage and takes out serpents +from flat baskets</i>). Here is a sna-ake—no bite—Bombay cobra, verri +good cobra. (<i>Introducing them formally to audience.</i>) Dis beeg +cobra, dis smahl cobra. (<i>One of them erects its hood and strikes at +his foot,</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> <i>which he withdraws promptly.</i>) No bite, verri moch nice +sna-ake. (<i>He plays a tune to them; one listens coldly and critically, +the others slither rapidly towards the edge of the platform, to the +discomposure of spectators in the front row; the</i> Magician <i>recaptures +them by the tail at the critical moment, ties them round his neck and +arms, and then puts them away, like toys.</i>) Here I have shtone; verri +good Inglis shtone. I hold so. (<i>Closing it in his fist.</i>) Go away, +shtone. Go to Chicago, Leeverpool, Hamburg. (<i>Opening fist.</i>) Shtone +no dere. I shut again. (<i>Opening fist.</i>) One, two, Inglis shillin's. +(<i>Singling out a</i> Spectator.) You, Sar, come up here queeck. Comonn!</p> + +<p><i>The Spectator.</i> Not me! Not among all them snakes you've got +there—don't you think it!</p> + +<p><i>The Magician and a Tom-tom player</i> (<i>together</i>). Verri nice +sna-akes—no bite. Comonn, help play.</p> + +<p><i>Angelina</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="sc">Edwin</span>, <i>as the invitation is coyly but firmly +declined</i>). <span class="sc">Edwin</span>, do go up and help the man—to please <i>me</i>. +And if you find him out in cheating, you can expose him, you know.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="stage">[<span class="sc">Edwin</span> <i>clambers up and stands, smiling feebly, at the</i> +Magician's <i>side amidst general applause</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>The Magician</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="sc">Edwin</span>). Sit down, sit down, sit down. Now +you count—how menni sillings? Dere is seeks.</p> + +<p><i>Edwin</i> (<i>determined not to be taken in</i>). Four, you mean.</p> + +<p><i>The Magician.</i> I tell you seeks. Count after me—One, tree, five, +seeks. Shtill onli four, you say? Shut dem in your hand—so. Now blow. +(<span class="sc">Edwin</span> <i>puffs at his fist</i>.) Open your hand, and count. One, +two, tree, four, five, seeks, summon, ight, nine, tin, like, vise! Dis +Inglisman make money verri moch nice; verri goot Inglisman. Put dem in +your hand again, and shut. Hûblo! Now open.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="stage">[<span class="sc">Edwin</span> <i>opens his fist, to discover in it two small and +extremely active serpents, which he rejects in startled dismay</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Angelina</i> (<i>to herself</i>). How <i>nasty</i> of <span class="sc">Edwin</span>! He <i>must</i> +have felt them inside.</p> + +<p><i>The Magician</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="sc">Edwin</span>). Verri nice sna-akes; but where +is my monni? (<span class="sc">Edwin</span> <i>shakes his head helplessly</i>.) Ah, dis +Inglisman too moch plenti cheat. (<i>He seizes</i> <span class="sc">Edwin's</span> <i>nose, +from which he extracts a shower of shillings</i>.) Aha! Verri goot Inglis +nose—hold plenty monni!</p> + +<p><i>Angelina</i> (<i>as</i> <span class="sc">Edwin</span> <i>returns to her in triumph</i>). No; +<i>please</i> turn your head away, <span class="sc">Edwin</span>. I can't <i>look</i> at your +nose without thinking of those horrid shillings; and oh, are you +<i>quite</i> sure you haven't got any of those horrid snakes up your sleeve? +I do <i>wish</i> you hadn't gone!</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="stage">[<i>So does</i> <span class="sc">Edwin</span>.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>A Serious Old Lady</i> (<i>as the</i> Magician <i>produces from his throat +several yards of coloured yarn, a small china doll, about a gross of +tenpenny nails, and a couple of eggs</i>). Clever, my dear? I daresay; +but it seems to me a pity that a man who has been given such talents +shouldn't turn them to better account!</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">ELECTION INTELLIGENCE.</p> + +<p><i>Brybury-on-the-Pocket.</i>—Both candidates very busy. Meetings are +being held all day long at the principal hotels, and any number of +livery-stable-keepers have promised to lend their carriages on the +day of election. The agents on either side have an enormous staff of +assistants, and trade was never known to be brisker during the present +century.</p> + +<p><i>Crowncrushington.</i>—This will be a very near contest. As political +feeling runs rather high, a number of extra beds have been prepared in +the hospitals. The police have been reinforced, and the military are +close at hand, and every other preparation has been made to secure the +declaration of the poll with as little friction as possible.</p> + +<p><i>Meddle-cum-Muddleborough.</i>—At present there are seven candidates, +but as three of these have issued their manifestoes under some +misapprehension it is not unlikely that the number will be reduced +before the day of nomination. It is not easy to foretell the result, as +since the establishment of the ballot every election has ended not only +in surprise but stupefaction.</p> + +<p><i>Selfseekington.</i>—It is not unlikely that there will be no contest +in this important borough. The (until recently) sitting member has +fixed the day that would naturally have fallen to the function of the +returning officer for the laying of the foundation stones of his Baths, +Wash-houses, Free Library and Town Hall, and the opening of his Public +Park.</p> + +<p><i>Wrottenborough.</i>—The popular candidate has pledged himself to +supporting Local Veto, the Licensed Victuallers, Establishment, +Disestablishment, Home Rule, the Integrity of the Empire, +Anti-Vaccination, the Freedom of the Medical Profession, and many other +matters of conflicting importance. The polling will be of a perfunctory +character, as expenses are being cut down on both sides.</p> + +<p><i>Zany-town-on-the-Snooze.</i>—There will be no contest in this division. +At present there is no intelligence of any sort to chronicle.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">Tag for the Testimonial.</span>—"The power of <span class="sc">Grace</span>, the +magic of a name."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">DALY NEWS, AND DRAMATIC NOTES.</p> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 265px;"> +<a href="images/017bfull.jpg"> +<img src="images/017b.jpg" width="265" height="450" alt="Miss Rehan as Julia." /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="center">Miss Rehan as Julia.<br /> + +"The Third Page in her Life."</p></div> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 399px;"> +<a href="images/017afull.jpg"> + +<img src="images/017a.jpg" width="299" height="350" alt="The Duke discovers the rope-ladder" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="center">The Duke discovers the rope-ladder<br /> under Valentine's +cloak.</p> + + + +<p class="center">"The Rope Trick exposed."</p></div> +</div> +<p>Ere these lines can appear, the <i>Two Gentlemen of Verona</i> and their +two Ladies will have vanished from Daly's Theatre like the baseless +fabric of a dream, leaving, however, a very pleasant recollection of +the play in the minds of all who saw it—and a great many did, for +<span class="sc">Shakspeare's</span> <i>Two Gents</i> is a dramatic curiosity. Prettily +put on the stage as it was, with good music, picturesque costumes +and clever acting, it will dwell in our memories as an exceptionally +attractive revival.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">George Clarke</span>, the "stern parient," appeared as something +between a Doge and a Duke, and equally good as either, you bet; that +is, "'lowing," as <i>Uncle Remus</i> has it, that either Doge or Duke +has passed the greater part of his life in the United States. Mr. +<span class="sc">Frank Worthing</span> (nice seasidey name on a hot night in town) +a gentlemanly-villainous <i>Proteus</i>, and Mr. <span class="sc">John Craig</span> an +equally gentlemanly-virtuous <i>Valentine</i>. So "Gents both" are disposed +of. Mr. <i>James Lewis</i>, as <i>Launce</i>, playing "the lead" to his dog, put +into the part new humour in place of the old which has evaporated by +fluxion of time. <i>Launce's</i> sly dog, very original; part considerably +curtailed.</p> + + + + + +<p>I see that a descendant of <span class="sc">Tyrone Power</span> appears as "Mine +Host." I did not gather from his costume that he was "a host in +himself," but thought he was a Venetian Judge or retired Doge; the +latter surmise receiving some confirmation from the fact that, while +the singing was going on, he, being somnolent, "doge'd" (as <i>Mrs. +Gamp</i> would say) in his chair. Sleeping or waking his was a dignified +performance. Miss <span class="sc">Elliot</span> a graceful <i>Sylvia</i>, who, as a +Milanese brunette, is artistically contrasted with Miss <span class="sc">Ada +Rehan</span>, of Florentine fairness, as <i>Julia</i>. All that is wanting +to this sketchy character Miss <span class="sc">Rehan</span> fills in, and makes the +design a finished picture. Improbable that <i>Proteus</i> should never +recognize <i>Julia</i> when disguised as a boy until she herself reveals her +identity. However, it was a very early work of <span class="sc">William's</span>: mere +child's play.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * * *</p> + +<p>The most Clement of critics, our learned and ever amiable Scotus of +the <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, speaking with authority from his column last +Saturday, recalls to us how many English actors and actresses have +successfully played in French on the Parisian stage, and adds to the +list the name of <span class="sc">Marie Halton</span>, who, excellent both in singing +and acting as <i>La Cigale</i> at the Lyric, will soon appear at a new +theatre in Paris, where she is to "create" French <i>rôles</i>—which, +Mlle. <span class="sc">Marie</span>, is a very pleasant way of making your bread. But +if we have in this actress an English <i>Chaumont</i>, why does not some +such astute manager as Mr. <span class="sc">Edwardes</span>, the Universal Theatre +Provider, induce <span class="sc">Halton</span> to Stay on—here, not only for her own +"benefit," but for that of the Light Opera-loving public.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;"> +<a href="images/017cfull.jpg"> + +<img src="images/017c.jpg" width="100" height="200" alt="Marie Halton" /></a> +</div> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> +<a href="images/018full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/018.jpg" width="700" height="435" alt="TRUE HYPERBOLE." /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="ph4">TRUE HYPERBOLE.</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> "<span class="sc">What a lovely Frock!... <i>Worth</i>, I suppose</span>?" <i>She.</i> +"<span class="sc">Monsieur Worth is dead</span>."</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> "<span class="sc">Ah! it <i>looks</i> as if it came from Heaven!</span>"</p> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">THE OLD CHIEFTAIN'S FAREWELL.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>["The impending Dissolution brings into its practical and final +form the prospective farewell which I addressed last year to the +constituency of Midlothian."—<i>Mr. Gladstone's Farewell Letter to the +Electors of Midlothian.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Air</span>—<i>Burns's "The Farewell."</i></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It was a' for our Glorious Cause</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I sought fair Scotland's strand;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It was a' for fair, rightfu' laws</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To bless the Irish land,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To bless the Irish land.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now a' is done that man could do,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And a' seems done in vain,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My loved Midlothian, farewell,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I mauna stand again,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I canna stand again.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For fifteen lang an' happy years,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That ne'er may be forgot,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We have foregathered, loved, and fought.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fare farther I may not,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fare farther may I not.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yet say not that our love has failed,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Or that our battle's lost;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Were I yet young I'd fight again,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And never count the cost,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And never count the cost.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tegither we've won mony a fight,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">You following where I led;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But now late Winter's chilling snows</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Are gatherin' round my head,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Are gatherin' round my head.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And times will change, and Chieftains pass.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Lang time I've borne the brunt</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of war; and now I'm glad to see</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="sc">Carmichael</span> to the front,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sir <span class="sc">Tammy</span> to the front.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A champion stout, I mak nae doubt,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He'll carry on my task.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To see ye braw and doing weel,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Henceforth is a' I ask.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Henceforth is a' I ask.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">True Scot am I—Midlothian's heart</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I won. Now I fare far,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And leave a younger chieftain, <span class="sc">Tam</span>,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To lead the Lowland war,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To lead the Lowland war!</span><br /> +</p> + + +<hr class="poem" /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He turned him right and round about</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Upon the Scottish shore.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He gae his bonnet plume a shake,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With "Adieu for evermore,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 11em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Adieu for evermore!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"<span class="sc">Rosebery</span> will from fight return,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wi' loss or else wi' gain;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But I am parted from my love,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Never to meet again,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 11em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Never to meet again.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"When day is gone, and night is come,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A' folk are fain to rest;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I'll think on thee, though far awa',</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While pulse throbs in this breast,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 11em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While pulse throbs in my breast!"</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Smith, Elder & Co.</span> are carrying out a happy thought in +projecting what they call the Novel Series, a title which is the least +felicitous part of the business. It is designed to meet the views of +those who desire to possess, not to borrow (or indeed to steal) good +books. The volumes will not be too large to be carried in the pocket, +nor too small to lie on the shelf. Neatly bound, admirably printed, +they are to cost from two shillings up to four shillings, presumably +according to length and the inclusion of illustrations. The series +leads off with <i>The Story of Bessie Costrell</i>, by Mrs. <span class="sc">Humphry +Ward</span>. The story, if not precisely pleasant, is decidedly powerful. +Once taken up, there is uncontrollable disposition to read on to the +end, a yearning the size of the volume makes it possible conveniently +to satisfy. The new series starts with a promise announcements of +succeeding contributions seem likely to fulfil.</p> + +<p class="author"> +<span class="sc">The Baron de Book-Worms.</span> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">New Carillon at the Royal Exchange.</p> + +<p>The tunes are admirably selected. First air every morning, "I know a +Bank," to be known as "The Morning Air."</p> + +<p><i>For Panic Days.</i>—"Oh dear, what can the matter be!"</p> + +<p><i>Bad Business Days.</i>—"Nae luck about 'the House.'"</p> + +<p><i>Good Business.</i>—"Here we go up, up, up!"</p> + +<p><i>South African Market Chorus.</i>—"Mine for Evermore!"</p> + +<p>This scheme of arrangement is to be generally known as "<i>The Bells' +Stratagem</i>."</p> + + + +<hr class="tb" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 623px;"> +<a href="images/019full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/019.jpg" width="623" height="800" alt="ARE YOU READY" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="ph4">"ARE YOU READY?"</p> + +<p>(<span class="sc">S-l-sb-ry</span> <i>and</i> <span class="sc">R-s-b-ry</span> <i>starting the Bicyclist +Competitors</i> <span class="sc">B-lf-r</span> <i>and</i> <span class="sc">H-rc-rt</span>.)]</p> +</div> +</div> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">SCRAPS FROM CHAPS.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">A Real Uncrowned King.</span>—At a meeting of the Town Commissioners +of Kinsale, a report of the proceedings discloses a conversation of a +truly remarkable kind—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"The Chairman thought that if they paid Mr. <span class="sc">Punch</span> his +quarter's salary up to the 1st February they would be dealing very +fairly with him, especially as they had appointed his son as his +successor.... Messrs. <span class="sc">Kiely</span> and <span class="sc">P. S. O'Connor</span> +contended that as Mr. <span class="sc">Punch</span> was never dismissed by them, and +the non-performance of his duties was through no fault of his own, he +was entitled to some remuneration."</p></blockquote> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 353px;"> +<a href="images/021full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/021.jpg" width="353" height="550" alt="MAKING ALLOWANCES." /></a> +<div class="caption">MAKING ALLOWANCES.<br /> +<p><i>The Little Minister.</i> "<span class="sc">How well you're looking, Mac-Cullum!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>The Big Farmer.</i> "<span class="sc">Weel—I'm weel in Pairts. But I'm ower Muckle to +be weel all ower at ain time!</span>"</p></div> +</div> + +<p>We should think he was, indeed! <i>Some</i> remuneration, quotha? Does +not the mere fact that he bears a name honoured and revered in every +corner of the globe entitle him to a pension on the very highest +scale known to the L. G. B.? Not, we need hardly say, an "old age" +pension. Perpetual youth is the prerogative of all <span class="sc">Punches</span>. +And they "have appointed his son as his successor." Well, of course! +How can a <span class="sc">Punch</span> do anything but succeed? He would be a rum +<span class="sc">Punch</span> if he didn't! Greetings to our distant kinsman of +Kinsale!</p> + + + + + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">One Man, One Topper!</span>—In the <i>Glasgow Herald</i> somebody writes +as follows:—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"It is surely time Mr. <span class="sc">Duncan</span> saw to his bus-drivers' hats! +Such a miscellaneous collection of seedy hats, I think, could not be +found elsewhere; they are a positive disgrace to the city."</p></blockquote> + +<p>The writer ought to have signed himself "<span class="sc">Macbeth</span>;" the +"unguarded <span class="sc">Duncan</span>," whoever he may be, must be on his guard, +or passengers will strike for better hats. All bus-drivers and +conductors should wear silk hats, to typify the habitual softness of +their address. Why not put them into livery at once? The company that +did that would probably attract no end of custom. No revolution like +it, since the abolition of the box-seat! Uniform charges and uniformed +conductors should be the future rule of the road.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Not Kilt, but Spacheless.</span>"—At Clonakilty Sessions the other +day, the following evidence was given:—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Patrick Feen</span> was examined, and stated he resided at +Dunnycove, parish of Ardfield.... Gave defendant's brother a blow of +his open hand and knocked him down for fun, and out of friendship. +(<i>Laughter.</i>)"</p></blockquote> + +<p>What a good-natured, open-handed friend Mr. <span class="sc">Patrick Feen</span> must +be! <span class="sc">John Hegarty</span>, the person assaulted, corroborated the +account, and added,—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"When he was knocked down, he stopped there. (<i>Laughter.</i>)"</p></blockquote> + +<p>In fact, he "held the field," and "remained in possession of the +ground." Who will now say that the old humour is dying out in Erin?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">Of Dr. Tristram (Shandy) in the Inconsistory Court.</span>—"O +<span class="sc">Tristram! Tristram! Tristram!</span>" * * "And pray which way is this +affair of <span class="sc">Tristram</span> at length settled by these learned men?"</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>"Toby" to Yorick.</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>What a nice dish for lunch would be what we find mentioned in the +Racing Order of the Day, <i>i.e.</i> "<i>Plate of 150 sous</i>." Excellent! To be +washed down with a draught of Guineas stout!</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">BRIGGS, OF BALLIOL.</p> + +<p class="ph4"><span class="sc">Part I.</span></p> + +<p><span class="sc">Briggs</span> was the gayest dog in Balliol. If there was a bonfire +in the quad, and if the dons found their favourite chairs smouldering +in the ashes, <span class="sc">Briggs</span> was at the bottom of it. If the bulldogs +were led a five-mile chase at one o'clock in the morning, the gownless +figure that lured them on was <span class="sc">Briggs</span>. If the supper at +<span class="sc">Vinnie's</span> became so uproarious that the Proctor thought it +necessary to interfere, the gentleman that dropped him from the +first-floor window was <span class="sc">Briggs</span>. Anyone else would have been +sent down over and over again, but—<span class="sc">Briggs</span> stroked the Balliol +boat: <span class="sc">Briggs</span> had his cricket blue; <span class="sc">Briggs</span> was a dead +certainty against Cambridge for the quarter and the hundred: in short, +<span class="sc">Briggs</span> was indispensable to the College and the 'Varsity, and +therefore he was allowed to stay.</p> + +<p>But what is this? A change has come over <span class="sc">Briggs</span>. He is another +man. Can it be——? Impossible—and yet? Yes, it began that very +night. Everyone has heard of Miss <span class="sc">O'Gress</span>, the Pioneer. She +came up to Oxford to lecture; her subject was "Man: his Position and +<i>Raison d'être</i>." <span class="sc">Briggs</span> and I went to hear; went in light +laughing mood with little fear of any consequences. We listened to +the <span class="sc">O'Gress</span>. "There is no doubt," she said, "that Man was +intended by Nature to be the Father. For this high calling he should +endeavour to fit himself by every means in his power. He should +cultivate his body so as to render himself attractive to Woman. He +should be tall,"—her eye fell on <span class="sc">Briggs</span>—"he should be +handsome,"—still on <span class="sc">Briggs</span>—"he should be graceful, he +should be athletic."—At this point her eye seemed fairly to feast on +<span class="sc">Briggs</span>, and a curious lurid light lowered in it. She paused a +moment. I was sitting next to <span class="sc">Briggs</span>, and I felt a shiver run +through him. I looked at his face, and it was ghastly pale. I asked him +in a whisper if he felt faint? He impatiently motioned me to be silent, +and remained, as I thought, like a bird paralysed beneath the gaze of a +serpent. I heard no more, so anxious was I on my friend's account; nor +could I breathe with any freedom until the audience rose and we were +once again in the fresh air.</p> + +<p>The following day there was a garden-party at Trinity. <span class="sc">Briggs</span> +said he was playing for the 'Varsity against Lancashire, and therefore +could not go. Imagine my surprise then, when, as I was doing the polite +among the strawberries and cream, I caught sight of him slinking down +the lime grove at the heels of the <span class="sc">O'Gress</span>. I rubbed my eyes +and looked again. Yes, it was <span class="sc">Briggs</span> indeed. The face was his; +the features were his; the figure was his; the clothes were his—but, +the buoyant step? the merry laugh? where, where, eh! where were they?</p> + +<p class="center">* * * * *</p> + + +<p>The Long Vac. passed, and we were all up again for Michaelmas Term. +There was a blank in our circle. "Where's <span class="sc">Briggs</span>?" asked +<span class="sc">Brown</span>. "Where's <span class="sc">Briggs</span>?" asked <span class="sc">Trotter</span> of +Trinity. We looked at one another. What! Nobody seen <span class="sc">Briggs</span>? +Not up yet?—Better go and see. We went to his rooms. No +<span class="sc">Briggs</span> there, and not a sign of his coming. We went to +<span class="sc">Jones</span>. <span class="sc">Jones</span> knew no more than we; to <span class="sc">Smith</span>, +<span class="sc">Green</span>, <span class="sc">Roberts</span>—all equally ignorant. At last we +tried the Porter. What! hadn't we heard the news? News? No! What +news? The Porter's face grew long. Why, Mr. <span class="sc">Briggs</span>, 'e +weren't comin' up no more. Not coming up? Not coming up? Nonsense! +Impossible!—Fact, gentlemen, fact. The Master,'e'd 'ad a note from Mr. +<span class="sc">Briggs</span>, sayin' as 'ow 'e wouldn't be back agin. No one knew +nothink more than that. No one could explain it.</p> + +<p>There was despair in Balliol. What would become of us? Without +<span class="sc">Briggs</span> we could never catch B. N. C. Magdalen would bump +us to a certainty, and we could hardly hope to escape the House. +In football it would be just as bad. Keble and Exeter would simply +jump on us, and not a single Balliol man would have his blue. The +position was appalling; ruin stared us in the face; the College was in +consternation, for <span class="sc">Briggs</span> had disappeared.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">NOTE BY A NATIONALIST.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Home Rule all Round!" That cry is in the air:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What Ireland wants, though, is Home Rule all <i>square</i>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<a href="images/022full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/022.jpg" width="800" height="570" alt="Is your Son improving in his Violin-playing" /> +</a> +<div class="caption"><p>"<span class="sc">Is your Son improving in his Violin-playing, Mr. +Jones?</span>"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Well—either he's improving, or we're getting used to it!</span>"</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph2">Thomas Henry Huxley.</p> + +<p class="ph3"> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="sc">Born, May 4, 1825.</span> <span class="sc">Died, June 30, 1895.</span></span> +</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Another star of Science slips</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Into the shadow of eclipse!—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yet no; the <i>light</i> is nowise gone,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But burning still, and travelling on</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The unborn future to illume,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And dissipate a distant gloom.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">True man of Science he, yet more,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Master of metaphysic lore,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lover of history and of art,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He played a multifarious part.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With clear head and incisive tongue</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dowered, on all he touched he flung</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Those rarer charms of grace and wit.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Great learning may not always hit.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To his "liege lady Science" true,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He narrowed not a jealous view</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To her alone, but found all life</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With charm and ethic interest rife.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Knowing plain lore of germ and plant,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With dreams of <span class="sc">Hamilton</span> and <span class="sc">Kant</span>,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All parts of the great human plan.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">England in him has lost a Man.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The great Agnostic, clear, brave, true,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Taught more things, may be, than he deemed he knew.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">Business.</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer</i> (<i>drawing up prospectus</i>). Shall I write "Company" with a +big C?</p> + +<p><i>Honest Broker.</i> Certainly, if it's a sound one, as it represents +"Company" with a capital.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">MR. BRIEFLESS, JUN., ON THE LONG VACATION.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately I was prevented, by an appointment of a semi-professional +character—I had been desired by a maiden aunt to give her my advice +upon a question, of damage arising out of a canine assault committed +by her lap-dog—from being present at the General Meeting of the Bar, +and consequently was unable to take part in the annual deliberations of +my learned and friendly colleagues. From what passed on the occasion +to which I refer, I gather that there was an inclination to call the +Benchers of the Inns of Court to account. It seems to me—and I believe +that I am right in the opinion—that, so long as our Masters worthily +represent the dignity of the profession, we Members of the Inner and +Outer Bar have no tangible cause for complaint.</p> + +<p>But I fancy the leading subject at the Forensic Congress was the Long +Vacation. Judging from the numerous letters that have reached me +from both branches of the profession, this is a matter of the first +importance to all of us. I have been asked by many of my learned and +friendly colleagues, and my nearly equally learned and even more +friendly clients, to give my opinion on the subject. One respected +correspondent who hails from Ely Place, writes, "How could you possibly +recover from the wear and tear of your arduous practice in Trinity +Term, had you not a part of August and nearly the whole of September +and October ready to hand for recuperation?" I quite agree with Sir +<span class="sc">George</span>—I should say, my respected correspondent—that as I +near "the long," I do feel the need of rest—nay, even considerable +rest. Then a learned friend who represents not only the Bar, but +chivalry in its forensic form, sends me a caricature of "<span class="sc">Dicky +W.</span>" that would suggest that were the holidays to be decreased, +a wearer of a most distinguished order, and an athlete of no small +fame would be reduced to a condition of complete collapse. Once again, +an ornament to our Bench—perhaps the greatest ornament—honours me +with the suggestion that were we to lose a month of recreation, it +might sadden the terraces of Monte Carlo, and eclipse the merriment of +Newmarket Heath. It is needless to state that all these communications +have had weight with me. Still, I have deemed it desirable to approach +the subject with an open mind. It seems to me (and no doubt to many +others) that the question narrows itself into a matter of finance. I +have therefore taken <span class="sc">Portington</span> into my counsels, and examined +with unusual care the pages of my Fee Book. After much consultation +with my admirable and excellent clerk, and an exhaustive audit of +the figures of my forensic <i>honoraria</i>, I have come to the matured +conclusion that the lengthening or the shortening of the Long Vacation +does not affect me financially in the very least.</p> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Signed</i>) <span class="sc">A. Briefless, Junior</span>.</p> +<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Pump-handle Court, June 22, 1895.</i></span> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Football is to be played in all the schools and colleges of Russia. The +champion of the game is known as Prince <span class="sc">Khikoff</span>.</p> + + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<a href="images/023full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/023.jpg" width="800" height="535" alt="THE FATE OF ROTTEN ROW" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="ph4">THE FATE OF ROTTEN ROW.</p></div> +</div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">ON VIEW AT HENLEY.</p> + +<p>The most characteristic work of that important official, the clerk of +the weather.</p> + +<p>The young lady who has never been before, and wants to know the names +of the eights who compete for the Diamond Sculls.</p> + +<p>The enthusiastic boating man, who, however, prefers luncheon when the +hour arrives, to watching the most exciting race imaginable.</p> + +<p>The itinerant vendors of "coolers" and other delightful comestibles.</p> + +<p>The troupes of niggers selected and not quite select.</p> + +<p>The house-boat with decorations in odious taste, and company to match.</p> + +<p>The "perfect gentleman's rider" (from Paris) who remembers boating +at Asnières thirty years ago, when <span class="sc">Jules</span> wore when rowing +lavender kid-gloves and high top-boots.</p> + +<p>The calm mathematician (from Berlin), who would prefer to see the races +represented by an equation.</p> + +<p>The cute Yankee (from New York), who is quite sure that some of the +losing crews have been "got at" while training.</p> + +<p>The guaranteed enclosure, with band, lunch and company of the same +quality.</p> + +<p>The "very best view of the river" from a dozen points of the compass.</p> + +<p>Neglected maidens, bored matrons, and odd men out.</p> + +<p>Quite the prettiest toilettes in the world.</p> + +<p>The Thames Conservancy in many branches.</p> + +<p>Launches: steam, electric, accommodating and the reverse.</p> + +<p>Men in flannels who don't boat, and men in tweeds who do.</p> + +<p>A vast multitude residential, and a vaster come per rail from town.</p> + +<p>Three glorious days of excellent racing, at once national and unique.</p> + +<p>An aquatic festival, a pattern to the world.</p> + +<p>And before all and above all, a contest free from all chicanery, and +the very embodiment of fairplay.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">From a Correspondent.</span>—"<span class="sc">Sir</span>,—I occasionally come +across allusions to '<i>Groves of Blarney</i>.' Which Groves was this? There +was a celebrated fishmonger known as '<i>Groves of Bond Street</i>;' is +Groves of Blarney an Irish branch of that family?"</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</p> + +<p class="center">EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</p> + +<p><i>House of Commons, Monday, July 1.</i>—Presto! Quick transformation scene +effected to-day. Conservatives to the right; Liberals to the left. +Stupendous, far-reaching change; one of those rarely happy events that +please everyone. Hearing what people say, it is difficult to decide +which the more pleased, Liberals at being turned out, or Conservatives +at springing in. On Ministerial side happiness marred in individual +cases by being left out of the Ministry.</p> + +<p>"I'm getting up in years now, <span class="sc">Toby</span>," said <span class="sc">The +Markiss</span>, "and I've had pretty long experience in making up +Ministries. But I assure you I've been staggered during last week, +including in special degree the last hour. The more offices assigned, +the narrower becomes the basis of operation, and the more desperate +the rush of the attacking party. You'd be surprised if you saw the +list of men who have asked me for something. As a rule they don't put +it in that general way. They know precisely what they want, and are +not bashful in giving it a name, though they usually end up by saying +that if this particular post is disposed of, anything else will do. +In fact, like the cabman and the coy fare, they leave it to me. I am, +as you know, of placid temperament, inclined to take genial views of +my fellow-man. But I declare, if the process of forming a Ministry +under my direction were extended beyond a fortnight, I should become a +confirmed cynic."</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Parties change sides.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—"<i>Quel jour pour le bon Joé!</i>" said my Friend, dropping +with easy grace into the French of Alderney-atte-Sark.</p> + +<p>House full, considering the nearness of Dissolution. Members anxious +above all things to meet their constituents. Grudge every hour that +holds them from their embrace. Still, it is well upon occasion to +practise self-denial. Ten days or even a fortnight with constituents +during progress of contest inevitable. Just as well not to anticipate. +So House crowded to see <span class="sc">Prince Arthur</span> return. Slight flush +on his cheek as with swinging stride he comes to take up sceptre +<span class="sc">Peel</span> once held, that <span class="sc">Dizzy</span> deftly wielded, that +<span class="sc">Gladstone</span> of late laid down. After him, second only to +him, <span class="sc">Joseph</span>—<span class="sc">Joseph</span> in his very best summer +suit, appropriate to occasion when sun shines most brightly. Then +<span class="sc">Jokim</span>, who has descended to frivolity of white waistcoat, +which casts ghastly pallor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> over festive scene. Last of all, type in +these days of stern, unbending Toryism, <span class="sc">Michael Hicks-Beach</span>.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 850px;"> +<a href="images/024afull.jpg"> + +<img src="images/024.jpg" width="850" height="378" alt="LEFT OUT" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="center">LEFT OUT! (A Study of several +Distinguished Persons, who are unable to appreciate the charms of +"Coalition"!)</p></div> +</div> + + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 191px;"> +<a href="images/024bfull.jpg"> + +<img src="images/024b.jpg" width="191" height="500" alt="Virtue Rewarded" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="center">Virtue Rewarded! The new Secretary of the Treasury, Mr. +H-nb-ry.</p></div> +</div> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Beach</span>," said <span class="sc">Sark</span>, coming back to the English +tongue, "has never either manœuvred or wobbled. He is of the +very flower of English political squirearchy. He has principles and +convictions, and he sticks to them. So, when a Conservative Ministry +arrives, he walks in last, and, on the Treasury Bench, takes any seat +others may not have appropriated. Consider these things, <span class="sc">Toby</span>, +my boy. If you're bringing up any pups to a political career, the +study may be useful to you and them." <span class="sc">Private Hanbury</span> got +his stripes. After pegging away for years at Treasury, <span class="sc">Prince +Arthur</span> now put him on to repel attacks. Will do it well too. An +admirable appointment. Sad thing about it is, that it breaks up a +cherished companionship; parts friends by the height and width and back +of Treasury Bench.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Ministers sworn in.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday.</i>—Notable change come over <span class="sc">Boltonparty</span> in the last +few days. Unmistakable Retreat-from-Moscow look about him. When Liberal +Government went out and <span class="sc">Joseph</span> handed <span class="sc">The Markiss</span> to +the front, <span class="sc">Boltonparty</span> beamed with large content. The Sun of +Austerlitz shone once more.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 388px;"> +<a href="images/024cfull.jpg"> + +<img src="images/024c.jpg" width="288" height="350" alt="Toby runs down to his Constituency" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="center">Toby runs down to his Constituency.</p></div> +</div> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Joseph</span>," he said, folding his arms in historic fashion, +letting his massive chin rest on his manly chest, what time his noble +brow shone with the radiance of mighty thoughts, "<span class="sc">Joseph</span> +will never forget his early friend and ally. It's not as if at the +last General Election I stood under his flag, won a seat, and laid +it at his feet. I fought North St. Pancras as a Home-Ruler, captured +it, and before new Parliament was many months old, went over to other +side, making early rift in lute of <span class="sc">Gladstone's</span> majority. Some +men in such circumstances would have gone back to their constituency +and said, 'Dear boys, there's a mistake somewhere. You elected me on +a particular understanding. Since then I have taken another view of +the situation and of my duty. So I come back, return the trust you +placed in my hand, and give you opportunity of electing me again, or +choosing another man.' That might have led to inconvenience. Wouldn't +run any risk; so kept my seat, and voted steadily with <span class="sc">Joseph</span>. +Suppose they won't put me in the Cabinet right off? But I shall have +choice of first-class Under-Secretaryship. Shall it be War, Navy, or +Home Department? Any one excellent; but obviously I must go to the War +Office. Don't know whether there's any particular uniform for Financial +Secretary. If not, could soon knock one up from old portrait of the +Emperor."</p> + + + +<p>Day after day <span class="sc">Boltonparty</span> stayed at home, expecting every +hour to be sent for. Nothing came till Wednesday morning's papers +arrived, with, the news that son <span class="sc">Austen</span> was Secretary to +the Admiralty, <span class="sc">Jesse Collings</span> was installed at the Home +Office, and <span class="sc">Powell Williams</span>—who never set a squadron +in the field, and didn't in any respect resemble the Emperor +<span class="sc">Napoleon</span>—was Financial Secretary to the War Office! "That's +bad enough, <span class="sc">Toby</span>," said <span class="sc">Boltonparty</span>, filing away an +iron tear that coursed down his steel-grey cheek. "But there's worse +behind. What do you think <span class="sc">Joseph</span> did when he heard I wasn't +all together pleased? He offered me a statue! Said he'd no doubt +<span class="sc">Akers-Douglas</span> could pick up on reasonable terms an old statue +of <span class="sc">Napoleon</span>; with a little touching up it would serve, and +there was a place ready on the site proposed for <span class="sc">Cromwell's</span>. +There was, he said, well-known picture of <span class="sc">Napoleon</span> Crossing +the Alps. Why shouldn't there be a statue of <span class="sc">Boltonparty</span> +Crossing Marylebone Road, North Pancras? This is man's gratitude! I've +been cruelly Elba'd on one side, and nothing remains for me now but St. +Helena."</p> + + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—All.</p> + +<p><i>Saturday.</i>—Prorogation to-day, with usual imposing ceremony. On +Monday, Dissolution. Off to the country. Of course no one opposes me in +Barks. But must do the civil thing by my constituents.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">FOOTNOTE</p> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> A fact. July 6. Mr. <i>Punch's</i> Representative was taken +round twice—the second time against his will—in company with an +indignant shareholder and several impatient, yet sorrowful, passengers, +who complained of missing appointments, &c., in consequence of their +"extra" turn.</p></div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44660 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/44660-h/images/013.jpg b/44660-h/images/013.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e96d4c9 --- /dev/null +++ b/44660-h/images/013.jpg diff --git a/44660-h/images/013full.jpg b/44660-h/images/013full.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c679698 --- /dev/null +++ b/44660-h/images/013full.jpg diff --git a/44660-h/images/014.jpg b/44660-h/images/014.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..969db02 --- /dev/null +++ b/44660-h/images/014.jpg diff --git a/44660-h/images/014full.jpg b/44660-h/images/014full.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 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other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5724a10 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #44660 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44660) diff --git a/old/44660-8.txt b/old/44660-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..082dbc2 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/44660-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1651 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 109, +July 13, 1895, 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, Vol. 109, July 13, 1895 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis Burnand + +Release Date: January 14, 2014 [EBook #44660] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 109. + +JULY 13, 1895. + + + + +OPERATIC NOTES. + +_Monday._--Quite new Opera, _Faust_. Some people say they've heard it +before. Others add, "Yes, and more than once this season." Unwritten +law in _Codex Druriolanum_ is "You can't have too much of a good +thing." There are a hundred different ways of dressing chicken; so +with _Faust_. This time _Faust_ comes and is _Faust_ served with +_Sauce Marguerite à l'Emma Eames_. Uncommonly good. _Faust lui-même à +l'Alvarez_ goes down uncommonly well. _Mefisto-Plançon Sauce au bon +diable_, a little overdone, perhaps, but decidedly a popular dish. +Baton of BEVIGNANI keeps all the ingredients well stirred up. +House full. + +[Illustration] + +_Tuesday._--_Carmen._ Madame BELLINCIONI and Signor +ANCONA going strong. Capital house, spite of shadow of +dissolution being over us all. + +_Wednesday._--_Nozze di Figaro_, with EMMA EAMES as Countess, +singing charmingly, and looking like portrait of Court Beauty by Sir +PETER LELY. _Maurel-Almaviva_ all right for voice, but not up +to his Countess in aristocratic appearance. However, this is in keeping +with character of nobleman whose most intimate friend is his barber, +and who makes love to the barber's _fiancée_, who is also his wife's +_femme de chambre_. + + * * * * * + +ROUNDABOUT READINGS. + +At the Oxford and Cambridge Athletic Sports on Wednesday last, great +surprise was expressed at the defeat of the hitherto invincible Mr. +C. B. FRY by Mr. MENDELSON in the Long Jump. Mr. +MENDELSON, who comes to us from New Zealand, has not only done +a fine performance, but he has also jumped into fame. It is at any rate +obvious that it is quite impossible for him to represent his University +in the High Jump, for + + With a musical name (though he varies the spelling), + This youth from New Zealand is bound to go far. + He couldn't jump high, since (it's truth I am telling) + No master of music e'er misses a bar. + + * * * * * + +The Long Jump, snatched like a brand from the burning, practically gave +the victory in the whole contest to Cambridge, who also won the Weight, +the Mile, the Three Miles and the Quarter. + + The Light Blues triumphed, fortune being shifty; + They cheered FITZHERBERT sprinting home in fifty. + For strength the weight-man's parents have a hot son, + Witness the put of youthful Mr. WATSON. + LUTYENS, who always pleases as he goes, + Romped in, his glasses poised upon his nose. + And none that day with greater dash and go ran + Than the Light Blue three-miler, Mr. HORAN. + + * * * * * + +During the practice of the crews for Henley Regatta there has been one +exalted contest, which I cannot remember hearing of in former years. +My _Sporting Life_ (of which I am a diligent and a constant reader) +informed me that "at one time it did seem as though Jupiter Pluvius was +about to swamp Old Boreas, but the latter proved too tough." Quite a +sporting event, evidently. Why, oh why, was not Old Boreas present when +Pelion was piled upon Ossa? The whole course of (pre) history might +have been changed. + + * * * * * + +A Newcastle contemporary has been discussing the art of adding to +the beauty of women by the use of cosmetics, &c. May I commend the +following extract to the notice of the ladies of England? + + "No woman is capable of being beautiful who is capable of being false. + The true art of assisting beauty consists in embellishing the whole + person by the ornaments of virtuous and commendable qualities. How + much nobler is the contemplation of beauty when it is heightened + by virtue! How faint and spiritless are the charms of a coquette, + when compared with the loveliness of innocence, piety, good-humour, + and truth--virtues which add a new softness to their sex, and even + beautify their beauty! That agreeableness possessed by the modest + virgin is now preserved in the tender mother, the prudent friend, and + the faithful wife. Colours artfully spread upon canvas may entertain + the eye, but not touch the heart; and she who takes no care to add + to the natural graces of her person, noble qualities, may amuse as a + picture, but not triumph as a beauty." + + * * * * * + +Cheltenham is a pleasant place. I quote from a memory which is, I know, +miserably defective: + + Year by year do England's daughters + In the fairest gloves and shawls + Troop to drink the Cheltenham waters, + And adorn the Cheltenham balls. + +This is not the place that one would naturally associate with violent +language over so small a matter as the rejection of some plans. A +quarrel, however, has taken place in the Town Council, and terrible +words have been spoken:-- + + "In the course of a discussion on the rejection of some plans, Mr. + MARGRETT accused the acting chairman of the Streets Committee + (Mr. PARSONAGE) with being influenced by personal and + political motives against the person (Mr. BARNFIELD) who + sent them in. Mr. PARSONAGE warmly retorted with the lie + direct, and told Mr. MARGRETT that he knew he was lying. Mr. + LENTHALL accused Mr. PARSONAGE of being 'slip-shod' + in his method of bringing up the minutes of the Streets Committee, + because he had passed over without comment a dispute between the + Corporation and the Board of Guardians. While denying this imputation, + Mr. PARSONAGE said he would even prefer to be 'slip-shod' + than to follow Mr. LENTHALL'S example of giving utterance to + a long-winded and frothy oration over such a trumpery matter as a road + fence." + +After this I quite expected to read that some one-- + + ... raised a point of order, when + A chunk of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen, + And he smiled a sort of sickly smile and curled upon the floor! + And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more. + +But the matter seems to have dropped, and everything to have ended +peacefully--a great and bitter disappointment to all lovers of ructions. + + * * * * * + +Even in aquatic matters Ireland is a country of surprises. In the +Eight-oared race the other day for the "Pembroke Cup," there was a +dead-heat between the Shandon Boat Club and the Dublin University +Boat Club. In the row-off, the _Irish Independent_ says that "Boat +Club caught the water first, but after a few strokes Shandon forged +in front. After the mile mark, Shandon were rowing eighteen against +the Boat Club's nineteen or twenty. In the next three hundred yards +Boat Club dropped to seventeen, the others being steady at nineteen +all through. About one hundred and fifty yards off the fishery step +the Boat Club quickened up to forty and got within two feet of their +opponents. Then, amid the greatest excitement, Boat Club got in front +and won by a canvas." A stroke oar who can row a race at nineteen to +the minute all through is steadier but certainly less versatile than +one who can spring suddenly from the rate of seventeen to the rate +of forty. As admirable as either is the genius of the reporter who +describes the event. + + * * * * * + +Mr. H. M. HYNDMAN is the Socialist candidate for Burnley. He +advocates "the immediate nationalisation and socialisation of railways, +mines, factories, and the land, with a view to establishing organised +co-operation for production and distribution in every department under +the control of the entire community. There should be a minimum wage +of thirty shillings a week in all State and Municipal employment, as +well as in State-created monopolies." There's a modest and practical +programme for you! But this windy gentleman's opponents may reply +that they prefer the system of each for himself, and d----l take the +HYNDMAN, to all the verbiage of the Socialist froth-pot. + + * * * * * + +Many reasons have been given for the fall of the late Government. It +has been left to a correspondent of the _Birmingham Daily Post_ to +discover the real and only one. "It is most unfair," he says, "to hold +them entirely responsible for all the shortcomings, blunders, and +failures which distorted their administration. How could they help +these things? Has it never occurred to you that the Government of Lord +ROSEBERY was the '13th' Parliament of Queen VICTORIA? +Can anybody reasonably expect good government from a 13th Parliament? +It is out of all question." What _persiflage_, what wit! + + * * * * * + +I sorrow over the new town clock of Dalkey. In my _Freeman's Journal_ I +read that, at the monthly meeting of the Dalkey Township Commissioners, +a letter was read from Messrs. CHANCELLOR AND SONS, stating +that the new town clock could not be made to strike, but they could +make a new clock for £100. The letter was marked read--and no wonder. +If it can't strike, it had better be wound up, and Dalkey is obviously +the place to wind it. Otherwise there seems no reason in the Township's +name. + + * * * * * + +Clevedon is, I believe, in Somerset. Anyone in search of a sensation +ought to have gone there last week, for it is stated that "Mr. +VICTOR ROSINI'S Spectral Opera Company commenced a week's +engagement at the Public Hall on Monday evening." I cannot imagine +a spectral _basso_ or _tenore robusto_. And in any case, why should +the unfortunate operatic spectres be harried into giving public +performances? + + * * * * * + +MUSICAL HONOURS!!--The friends of Sir HENRY JAMES, Q.C., +M.P., will celebrate his being raised to the peerage by serenading +with "_The Aylestone Chorus_." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "VIVA L'ITALIA!" + +_Admiral Punch_ (_to Italia on the occasion of her Fleet visiting +England_). "WELCOME, _mia Bella_, to you and your splendid Ships! I +come of an old Italian Family myself!"] + + * * * * * + +HER PREVIOUS SWEETHEART. + +_Wednesday._--Violet has accepted me, this very day, the happiest of +my life. She is the sweetest and prettiest woman in the world. I have +loved her long and passionately. She has not loved me long, and she +could never love me passionately. She is rather unemotional. Even when +I kissed her this afternoon for the first time she was quite calm. She +tells me she has once loved, as though she could never love again. Her +previous sweetheart was a Captain. I am a mere writer. His name was +PERCY PLANTAGENET CHOLMONDELEY. Mine is JONES. I hope +that in time she may forget him. + +_Thursday._--Meet her in the Row, and sit under the trees. She is fond +of horses. So am I, but I do not ride often. She mentions that Captain +CHOLMONDELEY was a splendid rider. Listen patiently to what +she tells me. + +_Friday._--To the Opera with VIOLET and her people. She +does not care for GOUNOD'S _Faust_. Prefers a burlesque +with comic songs. Says the Captain sang comic songs admirably, with +banjo accompaniment. When it's well done, I also like that. Tell +her so. This encourages her to further reminiscences. Of course, +she is right to conceal nothing from me now we are engaged, but +frankness, even engaging frankness, may be carried too far. Manage +to change the subject at last, and then unfortunately the Soldier's +Chorus reminds her of a parody in an amateur burlesque which Captain +CHOLMONDELEY----and so on. + +_Saturday._--Meet her at Hurlingham. She is so fond of polo. She says +the Captain was a splendid player. I expected that. A sort of Champion +of the World. Of course. I never played in my life. Listen to an +account of his exploits. Rather bored. + +_Sunday._--Up the river. Very hot day. Delightful to lounge in the +shade and smoke. VIOLET more energetic. Compels me to exert +myself. She says the Captain could do anything in a boat. No doubt. I +am prepared to hear that he shot the Falls of Niagara in a punt. He was +a wonderful genius. I am tired of hearing of him. + +_Monday._--To Mr. MONTGOMERY-MUMBY'S dance. VIOLET +there of course. We both like dancing. Get on charmingly together. +Suddenly something reminds her of the ever-lamented Captain P. P. C. +I suggest that he has said good-bye to her for ever, as his initials +show. She does not see the little joke. Have to explain it to her. Then +she says it is a very poor joke. No doubt it is, but she needn't tell +me so. Annoying. A certain coolness between us. + +_Tuesday._--To the French play with VIOLET and her aunt. +She understands French very well. Seems to think a lot of me +because I know something of several languages. Ask her if Captain +CHOLMONDELEY was fond of learning languages. Am prepared to +hear that he was a second MEZZOFANTI. On the contrary, it +seems that he couldn't speak a word of anything but English, and that +he didn't speak very much that was worth hearing even in that. The only +French he could understand was in a _menu_. Apparently he never read +anything else in any language, except the sporting papers in English. +Have at last found something he could not do. Delighted. Unfortunately +show this. VIOLET begins to defend him. I say he must have +been rather a duffer. She retorts that I can't play polo. What has that +to do with it? Again a coolness between us. + +_Wednesday._--It is all over! We have parted for ever. She could never +forget that confounded Captain. Asked her this morning, when she was +telling me of his shooting elephants, or alligators, or rabbits, or +sparrows, or something wonderful, why she did not marry him. She says +it was broken off. She shows me his last letter of farewell. I read +it critically. It is very short. Point out to her nine mistakes in +spelling, and four in grammar. She says I am brutal. Indignation. +Argument. Scorn. Tears. Farewell. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: SO THAT DOESN'T COUNT. + +"Are you sure they're quite Fresh?" "Wot a Question to arst! Can't +yer see they're Alive?" "Yes; but _you_'re _Alive_, you know!"] + + * * * * * + +GREAT WHEEL GOSSIP. + +Are you quite sure that it is safe? + +Well, there have been all sorts of stories about this sort of thing, +but I don't believe it. The PRINCE went, you know. + +Oh, yes, of course. Then that's all right. Now we are off. How +interesting! We can see the tops of the houses! But what are we waiting +for? + +Oh, for other passengers to get into the cars. How long does it take? + +About three-quarters of an hour. Well, now we are off again. + +Why, there is a mist, and we can't see anything. + +Oh, yes, we can. Why, that must be either Kensington Gardens, Hyde Park +Corner, or Battersea Park. + +Don't think there is much in it. And why are we stopping? + +People getting in and out. Well, now we have had thirty-five minutes of +it, I shall be glad to be home. + +Oh, here we are. Now we can get out. Come, that is nice! + +No, we can't! _We have missed the landing, and have to go round +again._[1] + +After two journeys I think the best way of thoroughly enjoying the +Wheel is to sit fast, close your eyes, and think of something else! + +[1] A fact. July 6. Mr. _Punch's_ Representative was taken +round twice--the second time against his will--in company with an +indignant shareholder and several impatient, yet sorrowful, passengers, +who complained of missing appointments, &c., in consequence of their +"extra" turn.] + + * * * * * + +IN THE EARL'S COURT INDIA. + +IN BOMBAY STREET, INDIAN CITY. TIME--ABOUT EIGHT P.M. + +_A Matron_ (_to her friend, as they approach the natives at work_). +Everything seems for sale here, my dear. _Just_ the place to get a +nice wedding-present for dear EMILY. I want to give her +_something_ Indian, as she will be going out there so soon. What +are they doing in here? oh, glass-blowing!... See, JANE, +this one is making glass bangles.... Well, no, EMILY would +think it _rather_ shabby if I gave her a pair of those. I might get +one apiece for Cook and PHOEBE--servants are always so +grateful for any little attention of that sort--though I shouldn't +like to encourage a taste for finery; well, it will do very well when +we come back.... Perhaps one of those brass dinner-gongs--there's a +large one, I see, marked seven-and-sixpence--but I'd rather give her +something _quieter_--something she'd value for its _own_ sake.... Now +one of those chased silver bowls--twenty-five-and-nine-pence? Well, +it seems a little----and though I was always very fond of her mother, +EMILY was never----I must _think_ over it.... She might like a +set of beetle-wing mats--only they're not likely to entertain much.... +How would one of these embroidered tablecloths--eh? oh, I'm sure I've +seen them much cheaper at LIBERTY'S; and besides----(_After +a prolonged inspection of various articles at various stalls._) After +all, I shall be going to Tunbridge Wells next week. I think I'll wait. +I might see something there I liked _better_, you know! + +[Illustration: "Stands smiling feebly"] + +_A Wife_ (_to her husband, who is examining the stock of a native +shoemaker with interest_). No, CHARLES. I put up with a _great +deal_ for the sake of your society of an evening; but if you imagine I +am going to have you sitting opposite me with your feet in a pair of +slippers separated into two horrid toes, you make a great mistake! Put +the dreadful things down and come away. + +_Mr. McPairtan_ (_from the North, to his small nephew_). Eh, +ROBBIE, my man, I'm thinking your mither wouldna' just +approve o' my takkin' ye to sic a perfairmance as yon Burrmese +dancing-women.... Nay, nay, laddie, there's deceitfulness eneugh in +the naitural man withoot needing to lairn ony mair o't fro' these +puir juggling Indian bodies wi' their snake-chairmin' an' sic godless +doins!... Ride on the elephant? Havers! Ye can do that fine in the +Zooloagical Gairdens.... 'Twould be just sinful extrawvagance in me to +be throwing away guid siller wi' so mony bonny sichts to be seen for +naething. + +_Mr. Gourmay_ (_who is dying for his dinner, to his pretty cousins, who +cannot be got past the Indian craftsmen_). Yes, yes, very interesting, +and all that; but we can see it just as well if we come back _later_, +you know. + +_His Cousin Belle._ But they may have stopped by then. I _must_ just +see him finish the pattern; it's too _fascinating!_ + +_Mr. Gourm._ I--er--don't want to _hurry_ you, you know, only, you see, +if we don't look sharp, we shan't be in time to secure an outside table +at the Restaurant. Much jollier dining in the open air. + +_His Cousin Imogen._ Oh, it's too hot to _think_ of food. I'm not in +the _least_ hungry--are _you_, Belle? + +_Belle._ No; I'd ever so much rather see the Burmese dancers and the +Indian conjurors. I don't want to waste the best part of the evening +over dinner; we might have some of that nice Indian tea and a piece of +cake by-and-by, perhaps, if there's time. + + [_Speechless delight of_ Mr. GOURMAY. + +_Energetic Leader_ (_to his party, who are faint, but pursuing_). No, +there's nothing particular to see here. I tell you what _my_ plan is. +We'll go and do the Kinetoscopes and the Phonographs, have a look at +the Great Wheel, and some shots at the Rifle Range, cross over and +take a turn on the Switchback, finish up with a cold-meat supper at +SPIERS AND POND'S, and a stroll round the band-stand, and, by +the time we've done, we shall have got a very fair idea of what India's +_like!_ + +_First Relative_ (_to Second_). What's become of Aunt JOANNA? +I thought she was going on one of the elephants. + +_Second Relative._ She would have it none of 'em looked strong enough +for her. And what _do_ you think she goes and does next? Tries to +bargain with a black man to take her for a turn on one o' them little +bullock-carts! I really hadn't the patience to stop and see what come +of it. + +_Miss Rashleigh_ (_by the Burmese Cheroot Stall, audibly, to her +companion_). Just look at this girl, my dear, with a great cigar in +her mouth! Fancy their being New Women in Burmah! And such a _hideous_ +creature, too! + +_Her Companion._ Take care, my dear, she'll hear you. I expect she +understands English. + +_Miss Rashleigh_ (_with ready tact and resourcefulness_). Then let's +tell her how pretty she is! + +IN THE INDIAN JUNGLE. + +_Mr. Moul_ (_to_ Mrs. MOUL, _as they halt before a darkened +interior representing a coolie sleeping in an Indian hut, which a +leopard is stealthily entering_). Ah, now I do call that something +_like!_ Lovely! _ain't_ it? + +_Mrs. Moul._ It's beautiful. 'Ow ever they can _do_ it all! (_After a +pause_.) Why, I do believe there's a _animal_ of some sort up at the +further end! Can you see him, SAMSON? + +_Mr. Moul._ A animal! where? Ah, I can make out somethink now. (_With +pleased surprise._) And look--there's a man layin' down right in +front--do you see? + +_Mrs. Moul._ Well, I never! so there is! To think o' _that_ now. They +_'ave_ got it up nice, I will say that. + + [_They pass out, pleased with their own powers of observation._ + +IN THE INDIAN THEATRE. + +_Hindu Magician_ (_as he squats on the stage and takes out serpents +from flat baskets_). Here is a sna-ake--no bite--Bombay cobra, verri +good cobra. (_Introducing them formally to audience._) Dis beeg +cobra, dis smahl cobra. (_One of them erects its hood and strikes at +his foot,_ _which he withdraws promptly._) No bite, verri moch nice +sna-ake. (_He plays a tune to them; one listens coldly and critically, +the others slither rapidly towards the edge of the platform, to the +discomposure of spectators in the front row; the_ Magician _recaptures +them by the tail at the critical moment, ties them round his neck and +arms, and then puts them away, like toys._) Here I have shtone; verri +good Inglis shtone. I hold so. (_Closing it in his fist._) Go away, +shtone. Go to Chicago, Leeverpool, Hamburg. (_Opening fist._) Shtone +no dere. I shut again. (_Opening fist._) One, two, Inglis shillin's. +(_Singling out a_ Spectator.) You, Sar, come up here queeck. Comonn! + +_The Spectator._ Not me! Not among all them snakes you've got +there--don't you think it! + +_The Magician and a Tom-tom player_ (_together_). Verri nice +sna-akes--no bite. Comonn, help play. + +_Angelina_ (_to_ EDWIN, _as the invitation is coyly but firmly +declined_). EDWIN, do go up and help the man--to please _me_. +And if you find him out in cheating, you can expose him, you know. + + [EDWIN _clambers up and stands, smiling feebly, at the_ + Magician's _side amidst general applause_. + +_The Magician_ (_to_ EDWIN). Sit down, sit down, sit down. Now +you count--how menni sillings? Dere is seeks. + +_Edwin_ (_determined not to be taken in_). Four, you mean. + +_The Magician._ I tell you seeks. Count after me--One, tree, five, +seeks. Shtill onli four, you say? Shut dem in your hand--so. Now blow. +(EDWIN _puffs at his fist_.) Open your hand, and count. One, +two, tree, four, five, seeks, summon, ight, nine, tin, like, vise! Dis +Inglisman make money verri moch nice; verri goot Inglisman. Put dem in +your hand again, and shut. Hûblo! Now open. + + [EDWIN _opens his fist, to discover in it two small and + extremely active serpents, which he rejects in startled dismay_. + +_Angelina_ (_to herself_). How _nasty_ of EDWIN! He _must_ +have felt them inside. + +_The Magician_ (_to_ EDWIN). Verri nice sna-akes; but where +is my monni? (EDWIN _shakes his head helplessly_.) Ah, dis +Inglisman too moch plenti cheat. (_He seizes_ EDWIN'S _nose, +from which he extracts a shower of shillings_.) Aha! Verri goot Inglis +nose--hold plenty monni! + +_Angelina_ (_as_ EDWIN _returns to her in triumph_). No; +_please_ turn your head away, EDWIN. I can't _look_ at your +nose without thinking of those horrid shillings; and oh, are you +_quite_ sure you haven't got any of those horrid snakes up your sleeve? +I do _wish_ you hadn't gone! + + [_So does_ EDWIN. + +_A Serious Old Lady_ (_as the_ Magician _produces from his throat +several yards of coloured yarn, a small china doll, about a gross of +tenpenny nails, and a couple of eggs_). Clever, my dear? I daresay; +but it seems to me a pity that a man who has been given such talents +shouldn't turn them to better account! + + * * * * * + +ELECTION INTELLIGENCE. + +_Brybury-on-the-Pocket._--Both candidates very busy. Meetings are +being held all day long at the principal hotels, and any number of +livery-stable-keepers have promised to lend their carriages on the +day of election. The agents on either side have an enormous staff of +assistants, and trade was never known to be brisker during the present +century. + +_Crowncrushington._--This will be a very near contest. As political +feeling runs rather high, a number of extra beds have been prepared in +the hospitals. The police have been reinforced, and the military are +close at hand, and every other preparation has been made to secure the +declaration of the poll with as little friction as possible. + +_Meddle-cum-Muddleborough._--At present there are seven candidates, +but as three of these have issued their manifestoes under some +misapprehension it is not unlikely that the number will be reduced +before the day of nomination. It is not easy to foretell the result, as +since the establishment of the ballot every election has ended not only +in surprise but stupefaction. + +_Selfseekington._--It is not unlikely that there will be no contest +in this important borough. The (until recently) sitting member has +fixed the day that would naturally have fallen to the function of the +returning officer for the laying of the foundation stones of his Baths, +Wash-houses, Free Library and Town Hall, and the opening of his Public +Park. + +_Wrottenborough._--The popular candidate has pledged himself to +supporting Local Veto, the Licensed Victuallers, Establishment, +Disestablishment, Home Rule, the Integrity of the Empire, +Anti-Vaccination, the Freedom of the Medical Profession, and many other +matters of conflicting importance. The polling will be of a perfunctory +character, as expenses are being cut down on both sides. + +_Zany-town-on-the-Snooze._--There will be no contest in this division. +At present there is no intelligence of any sort to chronicle. + + * * * * * + +TAG FOR THE TESTIMONIAL.--"The power of GRACE, the +magic of a name." + + * * * * * + +DALY NEWS, AND DRAMATIC NOTES. + +Ere these lines can appear, the _Two Gentlemen of Verona_ and their +two Ladies will have vanished from Daly's Theatre like the baseless +fabric of a dream, leaving, however, a very pleasant recollection of +the play in the minds of all who saw it--and a great many did, for +SHAKSPEARE'S _Two Gents_ is a dramatic curiosity. Prettily +put on the stage as it was, with good music, picturesque costumes +and clever acting, it will dwell in our memories as an exceptionally +attractive revival. + +Mr. GEORGE CLARKE, the "stern parient," appeared as something +between a Doge and a Duke, and equally good as either, you bet; that +is, "'lowing," as _Uncle Remus_ has it, that either Doge or Duke +has passed the greater part of his life in the United States. Mr. +FRANK WORTHING (nice seasidey name on a hot night in town) +a gentlemanly-villainous _Proteus_, and Mr. JOHN CRAIG an +equally gentlemanly-virtuous _Valentine_. So "Gents both" are disposed +of. Mr. _James Lewis_, as _Launce_, playing "the lead" to his dog, put +into the part new humour in place of the old which has evaporated by +fluxion of time. _Launce's_ sly dog, very original; part considerably +curtailed. + +[Illustration: The Duke discovers the rope-ladder under Valentine's +cloak. + +"The Rope Trick exposed."] + +I see that a descendant of TYRONE POWER appears as "Mine +Host." I did not gather from his costume that he was "a host in +himself," but thought he was a Venetian Judge or retired Doge; the +latter surmise receiving some confirmation from the fact that, while +the singing was going on, he, being somnolent, "doge'd" (as _Mrs. +Gamp_ would say) in his chair. Sleeping or waking his was a dignified +performance. Miss ELLIOT a graceful _Sylvia_, who, as a +Milanese brunette, is artistically contrasted with Miss ADA +REHAN, of Florentine fairness, as _Julia_. All that is wanting +to this sketchy character Miss REHAN fills in, and makes the +design a finished picture. Improbable that _Proteus_ should never +recognize _Julia_ when disguised as a boy until she herself reveals her +identity. However, it was a very early work of WILLIAM'S: mere +child's play. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: Miss Rehan as Julia. + +"The Third Page in her Life."] + + * * * * * + +The most Clement of critics, our learned and ever amiable Scotus of +the _Daily Telegraph_, speaking with authority from his column last +Saturday, recalls to us how many English actors and actresses have +successfully played in French on the Parisian stage, and adds to the +list the name of MARIE HALTON, who, excellent both in singing +and acting as _La Cigale_ at the Lyric, will soon appear at a new +theatre in Paris, where she is to "create" French _rôles_--which, +Mlle. MARIE, is a very pleasant way of making your bread. But +if we have in this actress an English _Chaumont_, why does not some +such astute manager as Mr. EDWARDES, the Universal Theatre +Provider, induce HALTON to Stay on--here, not only for her own +"benefit," but for that of the Light Opera-loving public. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: TRUE HYPERBOLE. + +_He._ "What a lovely Frock!... _Worth_, I suppose?" _She._ +"MONSIEUR WORTH IS DEAD." + +_He._ "Ah! it _looks_ as if it came from Heaven!"] + + * * * * * + +THE OLD CHIEFTAIN'S FAREWELL. + + ["The impending Dissolution brings into its practical and final + form the prospective farewell which I addressed last year to the + constituency of Midlothian."--_Mr. Gladstone's Farewell Letter to the + Electors of Midlothian._] + +AIR--_Burns's "The Farewell."_ + + It was a' for our Glorious Cause + I sought fair Scotland's strand; + It was a' for fair, rightfu' laws + To bless the Irish land, + My dear; + To bless the Irish land. + + Now a' is done that man could do, + And a' seems done in vain, + My loved Midlothian, farewell, + I mauna stand again, + My dear; + I canna stand again. + + For fifteen lang an' happy years, + That ne'er may be forgot, + We have foregathered, loved, and fought. + Fare farther I may not, + My dear; + Fare farther may I not. + + Yet say not that our love has failed, + Or that our battle's lost; + Were I yet young I'd fight again, + And never count the cost, + My dear; + And never count the cost. + + Tegither we've won mony a fight, + You following where I led; + But now late Winter's chilling snows + Are gatherin' round my head, + My dear; + Are gatherin' round my head. + + And times will change, and Chieftains pass. + Lang time I've borne the brunt + Of war; and now I'm glad to see + CARMICHAEL to the front, + My dear; + Sir TAMMY to the front. + + A champion stout, I mak nae doubt, + He'll carry on my task. + To see ye braw and doing weel, + Henceforth is a' I ask. + My dear; + Henceforth is a' I ask. + + True Scot am I--Midlothian's heart + I won. Now I fare far, + And leave a younger chieftain, TAM, + To lead the Lowland war, + My dear; + To lead the Lowland war! + + * * * + + He turned him right and round about + Upon the Scottish shore. + He gae his bonnet plume a shake, + With "Adieu for evermore, + My dear; + Adieu for evermore! + + "ROSEBERY will from fight return, + Wi' loss or else wi' gain; + But I am parted from my love, + Never to meet again, + My dear; + Never to meet again. + + "When day is gone, and night is come, + A' folk are fain to rest; + I'll think on thee, though far awa', + While pulse throbs in this breast, + My dear; + While pulse throbs in my breast!" + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +SMITH, ELDER & CO. are carrying out a happy thought in +projecting what they call the Novel Series, a title which is the least +felicitous part of the business. It is designed to meet the views of +those who desire to possess, not to borrow (or indeed to steal) good +books. The volumes will not be too large to be carried in the pocket, +nor too small to lie on the shelf. Neatly bound, admirably printed, +they are to cost from two shillings up to four shillings, presumably +according to length and the inclusion of illustrations. The series +leads off with _The Story of Bessie Costrell_, by Mrs. HUMPHRY +WARD. The story, if not precisely pleasant, is decidedly powerful. +Once taken up, there is uncontrollable disposition to read on to the +end, a yearning the size of the volume makes it possible conveniently +to satisfy. The new series starts with a promise announcements of +succeeding contributions seem likely to fulfil. + + THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS. + + * * * * * + +New Carillon at the Royal Exchange. + +The tunes are admirably selected. First air every morning, "I know a +Bank," to be known as "The Morning Air." + +_For Panic Days._--"Oh dear, what can the matter be!" + +_Bad Business Days._--"Nae luck about 'the House.'" + +_Good Business._--"Here we go up, up, up!" + +_South African Market Chorus._--"Mine for Evermore!" + +This scheme of arrangement is to be generally known as "_The Bells' +Stratagem_." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "ARE YOU READY?" + +(S-L-SB-RY _and_ R-S-B-RY _starting the Bicyclist +Competitors_ B-LF-R _and_ H-RC-RT.)] + + * * * * * + +SCRAPS FROM CHAPS. + +A REAL UNCROWNED KING.--At a meeting of the Town Commissioners +of Kinsale, a report of the proceedings discloses a conversation of a +truly remarkable kind-- + + "The Chairman thought that if they paid Mr. PUNCH his + quarter's salary up to the 1st February they would be dealing very + fairly with him, especially as they had appointed his son as his + successor.... Messrs. KIELY and P. S. O'CONNOR + contended that as Mr. PUNCH was never dismissed by them, and + the non-performance of his duties was through no fault of his own, he + was entitled to some remuneration." + +We should think he was, indeed! _Some_ remuneration, quotha? Does +not the mere fact that he bears a name honoured and revered in every +corner of the globe entitle him to a pension on the very highest +scale known to the L. G. B.? Not, we need hardly say, an "old age" +pension. Perpetual youth is the prerogative of all PUNCHES. +And they "have appointed his son as his successor." Well, of course! +How can a PUNCH do anything but succeed? He would be a rum +PUNCH if he didn't! Greetings to our distant kinsman of +Kinsale! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: MAKING ALLOWANCES. + +_The Little Minister._ "HOW WELL YOU'RE LOOKING, MAC-CULLUM!" + +_The Big Farmer._ "WEEL--I'M WEEL IN PAIRTS. BUT I'M OWER MUCKLE TO +BE WEEL ALL OWER AT AIN TIME!"] + + * * * * * + +ONE MAN, ONE TOPPER!--In the _Glasgow Herald_ somebody writes +as follows:-- + + "It is surely time Mr. DUNCAN saw to his bus-drivers' hats! + Such a miscellaneous collection of seedy hats, I think, could not be + found elsewhere; they are a positive disgrace to the city." + +The writer ought to have signed himself "MACBETH;" the +"unguarded DUNCAN," whoever he may be, must be on his guard, +or passengers will strike for better hats. All bus-drivers and +conductors should wear silk hats, to typify the habitual softness of +their address. Why not put them into livery at once? The company that +did that would probably attract no end of custom. No revolution like +it, since the abolition of the box-seat! Uniform charges and uniformed +conductors should be the future rule of the road. + + * * * * * + +"NOT KILT, BUT SPACHELESS."--At Clonakilty Sessions the other +day, the following evidence was given:-- + + "PATRICK FEEN was examined, and stated he resided at + Dunnycove, parish of Ardfield.... Gave defendant's brother a blow of + his open hand and knocked him down for fun, and out of friendship. + (_Laughter._)" + +What a good-natured, open-handed friend Mr. PATRICK FEEN must +be! JOHN HEGARTY, the person assaulted, corroborated the +account, and added,-- + + "When he was knocked down, he stopped there. (_Laughter._)" + +In fact, he "held the field," and "remained in possession of the +ground." Who will now say that the old humour is dying out in Erin? + + * * * * * + +OF DR. TRISTRAM (SHANDY) IN THE INCONSISTORY COURT.--"O +TRISTRAM! TRISTRAM! TRISTRAM!" * * "And pray which way is this +affair of TRISTRAM at length settled by these learned men?" + + _"Toby" to Yorick._ + + * * * * * + +What a nice dish for lunch would be what we find mentioned in the +Racing Order of the Day, _i.e._ "_Plate of 150 sous_." Excellent! To be +washed down with a draught of Guineas stout! + + * * * * * + +BRIGGS, OF BALLIOL. + +PART I. + +BRIGGS was the gayest dog in Balliol. If there was a bonfire +in the quad, and if the dons found their favourite chairs smouldering +in the ashes, BRIGGS was at the bottom of it. If the bulldogs +were led a five-mile chase at one o'clock in the morning, the gownless +figure that lured them on was BRIGGS. If the supper at +VINNIE'S became so uproarious that the Proctor thought it +necessary to interfere, the gentleman that dropped him from the +first-floor window was BRIGGS. Anyone else would have been +sent down over and over again, but--BRIGGS stroked the Balliol +boat: BRIGGS had his cricket blue; BRIGGS was a dead +certainty against Cambridge for the quarter and the hundred: in short, +BRIGGS was indispensable to the College and the 'Varsity, and +therefore he was allowed to stay. + +But what is this? A change has come over BRIGGS. He is another +man. Can it be----? Impossible--and yet? Yes, it began that very +night. Everyone has heard of Miss O'GRESS, the Pioneer. She +came up to Oxford to lecture; her subject was "Man: his Position and +_Raison d'être_." BRIGGS and I went to hear; went in light +laughing mood with little fear of any consequences. We listened to +the O'GRESS. "There is no doubt," she said, "that Man was +intended by Nature to be the Father. For this high calling he should +endeavour to fit himself by every means in his power. He should +cultivate his body so as to render himself attractive to Woman. He +should be tall,"--her eye fell on BRIGGS--"he should be +handsome,"--still on BRIGGS--"he should be graceful, he +should be athletic."--At this point her eye seemed fairly to feast on +BRIGGS, and a curious lurid light lowered in it. She paused a +moment. I was sitting next to BRIGGS, and I felt a shiver run +through him. I looked at his face, and it was ghastly pale. I asked him +in a whisper if he felt faint? He impatiently motioned me to be silent, +and remained, as I thought, like a bird paralysed beneath the gaze of a +serpent. I heard no more, so anxious was I on my friend's account; nor +could I breathe with any freedom until the audience rose and we were +once again in the fresh air. + +The following day there was a garden-party at Trinity. BRIGGS +said he was playing for the 'Varsity against Lancashire, and therefore +could not go. Imagine my surprise then, when, as I was doing the polite +among the strawberries and cream, I caught sight of him slinking down +the lime grove at the heels of the O'GRESS. I rubbed my eyes +and looked again. Yes, it was BRIGGS indeed. The face was his; +the features were his; the figure was his; the clothes were his--but, +the buoyant step? the merry laugh? where, where, eh! where were they? + + * * * + +The Long Vac. passed, and we were all up again for Michaelmas Term. +There was a blank in our circle. "Where's BRIGGS?" asked +BROWN. "Where's BRIGGS?" asked TROTTER of +Trinity. We looked at one another. What! Nobody seen BRIGGS? +Not up yet?--Better go and see. We went to his rooms. No +BRIGGS there, and not a sign of his coming. We went to +JONES. JONES knew no more than we; to SMITH, +GREEN, ROBERTS--all equally ignorant. At last we +tried the Porter. What! hadn't we heard the news? News? No! What +news? The Porter's face grew long. Why, Mr. BRIGGS, 'e +weren't comin' up no more. Not coming up? Not coming up? Nonsense! +Impossible!--Fact, gentlemen, fact. The Master,'e'd 'ad a note from Mr. +BRIGGS, sayin' as 'ow 'e wouldn't be back agin. No one knew +nothink more than that. No one could explain it. + +There was despair in Balliol. What would become of us? Without +BRIGGS we could never catch B. N. C. Magdalen would bump +us to a certainty, and we could hardly hope to escape the House. +In football it would be just as bad. Keble and Exeter would simply +jump on us, and not a single Balliol man would have his blue. The +position was appalling; ruin stared us in the face; the College was in +consternation, for BRIGGS had disappeared. + + * * * * * + +NOTE BY A NATIONALIST. + + "Home Rule all Round!" That cry is in the air: + What Ireland wants, though, is Home Rule all _square_. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "IS YOUR SON IMPROVING IN HIS VIOLIN-PLAYING, MR. +JONES?" + +"WELL--EITHER HE'S IMPROVING, OR WE'RE GETTING USED TO IT!"] + + * * * * * + +Thomas Henry Huxley. + + BORN, MAY 4, 1825. DIED, JUNE 30, 1895. + + Another star of Science slips + Into the shadow of eclipse!-- + Yet no; the _light_ is nowise gone, + But burning still, and travelling on + The unborn future to illume, + And dissipate a distant gloom. + True man of Science he, yet more, + Master of metaphysic lore, + Lover of history and of art, + He played a multifarious part. + With clear head and incisive tongue + Dowered, on all he touched he flung + Those rarer charms of grace and wit. + Great learning may not always hit. + To his "liege lady Science" true, + He narrowed not a jealous view + To her alone, but found all life + With charm and ethic interest rife. + Knowing plain lore of germ and plant, + With dreams of HAMILTON and KANT, + All parts of the great human plan. + England in him has lost a Man. + The great Agnostic, clear, brave, true, + Taught more things, may be, than he deemed he knew. + + * * * * * + +Business. + +_Inquirer_ (_drawing up prospectus_). Shall I write "Company" with a +big C? + +_Honest Broker._ Certainly, if it's a sound one, as it represents +"Company" with a capital. + + * * * * * + +MR. BRIEFLESS, JUN., ON THE LONG VACATION. + +Unfortunately I was prevented, by an appointment of a semi-professional +character--I had been desired by a maiden aunt to give her my advice +upon a question, of damage arising out of a canine assault committed +by her lap-dog--from being present at the General Meeting of the Bar, +and consequently was unable to take part in the annual deliberations of +my learned and friendly colleagues. From what passed on the occasion +to which I refer, I gather that there was an inclination to call the +Benchers of the Inns of Court to account. It seems to me--and I believe +that I am right in the opinion--that, so long as our Masters worthily +represent the dignity of the profession, we Members of the Inner and +Outer Bar have no tangible cause for complaint. + +But I fancy the leading subject at the Forensic Congress was the Long +Vacation. Judging from the numerous letters that have reached me +from both branches of the profession, this is a matter of the first +importance to all of us. I have been asked by many of my learned and +friendly colleagues, and my nearly equally learned and even more +friendly clients, to give my opinion on the subject. One respected +correspondent who hails from Ely Place, writes, "How could you possibly +recover from the wear and tear of your arduous practice in Trinity +Term, had you not a part of August and nearly the whole of September +and October ready to hand for recuperation?" I quite agree with Sir +GEORGE--I should say, my respected correspondent--that as I +near "the long," I do feel the need of rest--nay, even considerable +rest. Then a learned friend who represents not only the Bar, but +chivalry in its forensic form, sends me a caricature of "DICKY +W." that would suggest that were the holidays to be decreased, +a wearer of a most distinguished order, and an athlete of no small +fame would be reduced to a condition of complete collapse. Once again, +an ornament to our Bench--perhaps the greatest ornament--honours me +with the suggestion that were we to lose a month of recreation, it +might sadden the terraces of Monte Carlo, and eclipse the merriment of +Newmarket Heath. It is needless to state that all these communications +have had weight with me. Still, I have deemed it desirable to approach +the subject with an open mind. It seems to me (and no doubt to many +others) that the question narrows itself into a matter of finance. I +have therefore taken PORTINGTON into my counsels, and examined +with unusual care the pages of my Fee Book. After much consultation +with my admirable and excellent clerk, and an exhaustive audit of +the figures of my forensic _honoraria_, I have come to the matured +conclusion that the lengthening or the shortening of the Long Vacation +does not affect me financially in the very least. + + (_Signed_) A. BRIEFLESS, JUNIOR. + + _Pump-handle Court, June 22, 1895._ + + * * * * * + +Football is to be played in all the schools and colleges of Russia. The +champion of the game is known as Prince KHIKOFF. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE FATE OF ROTTEN ROW.] + + * * * * * + +ON VIEW AT HENLEY. + +The most characteristic work of that important official, the clerk of +the weather. + +The young lady who has never been before, and wants to know the names +of the eights who compete for the Diamond Sculls. + +The enthusiastic boating man, who, however, prefers luncheon when the +hour arrives, to watching the most exciting race imaginable. + +The itinerant vendors of "coolers" and other delightful comestibles. + +The troupes of niggers selected and not quite select. + +The house-boat with decorations in odious taste, and company to match. + +The "perfect gentleman's rider" (from Paris) who remembers boating +at Asnières thirty years ago, when JULES wore when rowing +lavender kid-gloves and high top-boots. + +The calm mathematician (from Berlin), who would prefer to see the races +represented by an equation. + +The cute Yankee (from New York), who is quite sure that some of the +losing crews have been "got at" while training. + +The guaranteed enclosure, with band, lunch and company of the same +quality. + +The "very best view of the river" from a dozen points of the compass. + +Neglected maidens, bored matrons, and odd men out. + +Quite the prettiest toilettes in the world. + +The Thames Conservancy in many branches. + +Launches: steam, electric, accommodating and the reverse. + +Men in flannels who don't boat, and men in tweeds who do. + +A vast multitude residential, and a vaster come per rail from town. + +Three glorious days of excellent racing, at once national and unique. + +An aquatic festival, a pattern to the world. + +And before all and above all, a contest free from all chicanery, and +the very embodiment of fairplay. + + * * * * * + +FROM A CORRESPONDENT.--"SIR,--I occasionally come +across allusions to '_Groves of Blarney_.' Which Groves was this? There +was a celebrated fishmonger known as '_Groves of Bond Street_;' is +Groves of Blarney an Irish branch of that family?" + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. + +_House of Commons, Monday, July 1._--Presto! Quick transformation scene +effected to-day. Conservatives to the right; Liberals to the left. +Stupendous, far-reaching change; one of those rarely happy events that +please everyone. Hearing what people say, it is difficult to decide +which the more pleased, Liberals at being turned out, or Conservatives +at springing in. On Ministerial side happiness marred in individual +cases by being left out of the Ministry. + +"I'm getting up in years now, TOBY," said THE +MARKISS, "and I've had pretty long experience in making up +Ministries. But I assure you I've been staggered during last week, +including in special degree the last hour. The more offices assigned, +the narrower becomes the basis of operation, and the more desperate +the rush of the attacking party. You'd be surprised if you saw the +list of men who have asked me for something. As a rule they don't put +it in that general way. They know precisely what they want, and are +not bashful in giving it a name, though they usually end up by saying +that if this particular post is disposed of, anything else will do. +In fact, like the cabman and the coy fare, they leave it to me. I am, +as you know, of placid temperament, inclined to take genial views of +my fellow-man. But I declare, if the process of forming a Ministry +under my direction were extended beyond a fortnight, I should become a +confirmed cynic." + +_Business done._--Parties change sides. + +_Tuesday._--"_Quel jour pour le bon Joé!_" said my Friend, dropping +with easy grace into the French of Alderney-atte-Sark. + +House full, considering the nearness of Dissolution. Members anxious +above all things to meet their constituents. Grudge every hour that +holds them from their embrace. Still, it is well upon occasion to +practise self-denial. Ten days or even a fortnight with constituents +during progress of contest inevitable. Just as well not to anticipate. +So House crowded to see PRINCE ARTHUR return. Slight flush +on his cheek as with swinging stride he comes to take up sceptre +PEEL once held, that DIZZY deftly wielded, that +GLADSTONE of late laid down. After him, second only to +him, JOSEPH--JOSEPH in his very best summer +suit, appropriate to occasion when sun shines most brightly. Then +JOKIM, who has descended to frivolity of white waistcoat, +which casts ghastly pallor over festive scene. Last of all, type in +these days of stern, unbending Toryism, MICHAEL HICKS-BEACH. + +[Illustration: LEFT OUT! (A Study of several Distinguished Persons, +who are unable to appreciate the charms of "Coalition"!)] + +"BEACH," said SARK, coming back to the English +tongue, "has never either manoeuvred or wobbled. He is of the +very flower of English political squirearchy. He has principles and +convictions, and he sticks to them. So, when a Conservative Ministry +arrives, he walks in last, and, on the Treasury Bench, takes any seat +others may not have appropriated. Consider these things, TOBY, +my boy. If you're bringing up any pups to a political career, the +study may be useful to you and them." PRIVATE HANBURY got +his stripes. After pegging away for years at Treasury, PRINCE +ARTHUR now put him on to repel attacks. Will do it well too. An +admirable appointment. Sad thing about it is, that it breaks up a +cherished companionship; parts friends by the height and width and back +of Treasury Bench. + +_Business done._--Ministers sworn in. + +_Thursday._--Notable change come over BOLTONPARTY in the last +few days. Unmistakable Retreat-from-Moscow look about him. When Liberal +Government went out and JOSEPH handed THE MARKISS to +the front, BOLTONPARTY beamed with large content. The Sun of +Austerlitz shone once more. + +"JOSEPH," he said, folding his arms in historic fashion, +letting his massive chin rest on his manly chest, what time his noble +brow shone with the radiance of mighty thoughts, "JOSEPH +will never forget his early friend and ally. It's not as if at the +last General Election I stood under his flag, won a seat, and laid +it at his feet. I fought North St. Pancras as a Home-Ruler, captured +it, and before new Parliament was many months old, went over to other +side, making early rift in lute of GLADSTONE'S majority. Some +men in such circumstances would have gone back to their constituency +and said, 'Dear boys, there's a mistake somewhere. You elected me on +a particular understanding. Since then I have taken another view of +the situation and of my duty. So I come back, return the trust you +placed in my hand, and give you opportunity of electing me again, or +choosing another man.' That might have led to inconvenience. Wouldn't +run any risk; so kept my seat, and voted steadily with JOSEPH. +Suppose they won't put me in the Cabinet right off? But I shall have +choice of first-class Under-Secretaryship. Shall it be War, Navy, or +Home Department? Any one excellent; but obviously I must go to the War +Office. Don't know whether there's any particular uniform for Financial +Secretary. If not, could soon knock one up from old portrait of the +Emperor." + +[Illustration: Virtue Rewarded! The new Secretary of the Treasury, Mr. +H-nb-ry.] + +Day after day BOLTONPARTY stayed at home, expecting every +hour to be sent for. Nothing came till Wednesday morning's papers +arrived, with, the news that son AUSTEN was Secretary to +the Admiralty, JESSE COLLINGS was installed at the Home +Office, and POWELL WILLIAMS--who never set a squadron +in the field, and didn't in any respect resemble the Emperor +NAPOLEON--was Financial Secretary to the War Office! "That's +bad enough, TOBY," said BOLTONPARTY, filing away an +iron tear that coursed down his steel-grey cheek. "But there's worse +behind. What do you think JOSEPH did when he heard I wasn't +all together pleased? He offered me a statue! Said he'd no doubt +AKERS-DOUGLAS could pick up on reasonable terms an old statue +of NAPOLEON; with a little touching up it would serve, and +there was a place ready on the site proposed for CROMWELL'S. +There was, he said, well-known picture of NAPOLEON Crossing +the Alps. Why shouldn't there be a statue of BOLTONPARTY +Crossing Marylebone Road, North Pancras? This is man's gratitude! I've +been cruelly Elba'd on one side, and nothing remains for me now but St. +Helena." + +[Illustration: Toby runs down to his Constituency.] + +_Business done._--All. + +_Saturday._--Prorogation to-day, with usual imposing ceremony. On +Monday, Dissolution. Off to the country. Of course no one opposes me in +Barks. But must do the civil thing by my constituents. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +109, July 13, 1895, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 44660-8.txt or 44660-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/6/6/44660/ + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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July 13, 1895, by Various. + </title> + + + <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg"/> + + + <style type="text/css"> + + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .lowercase {text-transform:lowercase;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .stage {padding-left: 6em;} + + hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + hr.poem {width: 15%; margin-left: 2%; margin-right: 90%;} + + span.pagenum {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem h3 {text-align: left;} + .poem h4 {text-align: left;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + + .figcenter, .figright, .figleft {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img {border: none;} + .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + .figleft {float: left;} + + p.author {text-align: right; margin-right: 3em;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.break-before { + page-break-before: always; +} + +.under {text-decoration:underline} + +epub headings + +.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } +.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } +.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } +.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } +.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } + + + + + div.trans-note {background: #EEEEEE; border: dashed 1px; border-width: 1px; + margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: center;} + --> + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 109, +July 13, 1895, 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, Vol. 109, July 13, 1895 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis Burnand + +Release Date: January 14, 2014 [EBook #44660] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <p class="ph2">Vol. 109.</p> + <hr class="full" /> + + <p class="ph2">July 13, 1895.</p> + <hr class="full" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 174px;"> +<a href="images/013full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/013.jpg" width="174" height="350" alt="OPERA SINGER" /></a> +</div> +<p class="ph2"><a name="OPERATIC_NOTES" id="OPERATIC_NOTES">OPERATIC NOTES.</a></p> + + +<p><i>Monday.</i>—Quite new Opera, <i>Faust</i>. Some people say they've heard it +before. Others add, "Yes, and more than once this season." Unwritten +law in <i>Codex Druriolanum</i> is "You can't have too much of a good +thing." There are a hundred different ways of dressing chicken; so +with <i>Faust</i>. This time <i>Faust</i> comes and is <i>Faust</i> served with +<i>Sauce Marguerite à l'Emma Eames</i>. Uncommonly good. <i>Faust lui-même à +l'Alvarez</i> goes down uncommonly well. <i>Mefisto-Plançon Sauce au bon +diable</i>, a little overdone, perhaps, but decidedly a popular dish. +Baton of <span class="sc">Bevignani</span> keeps all the ingredients well stirred up. +House full.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—<i>Carmen.</i> Madame <span class="sc">Bellincioni</span> and Signor +<span class="sc">Ancona</span> going strong. Capital house, spite of shadow of +dissolution being over us all.</p> + +<p><i>Wednesday.</i>—<i>Nozze di Figaro</i>, with <span class="sc">Emma Eames</span> as Countess, +singing charmingly, and looking like portrait of Court Beauty by Sir +<span class="sc">Peter Lely</span>. <i>Maurel-Almaviva</i> all right for voice, but not up +to his Countess in aristocratic appearance. However, this is in keeping +with character of nobleman whose most intimate friend is his barber, +and who makes love to the barber's <i>fiancée</i>, who is also his wife's +<i>femme de chambre</i>.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">ROUNDABOUT READINGS.</p> + +<p>At the Oxford and Cambridge Athletic Sports on Wednesday last, great +surprise was expressed at the defeat of the hitherto invincible Mr. +<span class="sc">C. B. Fry</span> by Mr. <span class="sc">Mendelson</span> in the Long Jump. Mr. +<span class="sc">Mendelson</span>, who comes to us from New Zealand, has not only done +a fine performance, but he has also jumped into fame. It is at any rate +obvious that it is quite impossible for him to represent his University +in the High Jump, for</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With a musical name (though he varies the spelling),</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">This youth from New Zealand is bound to go far.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He couldn't jump high, since (it's truth I am telling)</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">No master of music e'er misses a bar.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The Long Jump, snatched like a brand from the burning, practically gave +the victory in the whole contest to Cambridge, who also won the Weight, +the Mile, the Three Miles and the Quarter.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Light Blues triumphed, fortune being shifty;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">They cheered <span class="sc">FitzHerbert</span> sprinting home in fifty.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For strength the weight-man's parents have a hot son,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Witness the put of youthful Mr. <span class="sc">Watson</span>.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><span class="sc">Lutyens</span>, who always pleases as he goes,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Romped in, his glasses poised upon his nose.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And none that day with greater dash and go ran</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Than the Light Blue three-miler, Mr. <span class="sc">Horan</span>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>During the practice of the crews for Henley Regatta there has been one +exalted contest, which I cannot remember hearing of in former years. +My <i>Sporting Life</i> (of which I am a diligent and a constant reader) +informed me that "at one time it did seem as though Jupiter Pluvius was +about to swamp Old Boreas, but the latter proved too tough." Quite a +sporting event, evidently. Why, oh why, was not Old Boreas present when +Pelion was piled upon Ossa? The whole course of (pre) history might +have been changed.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A Newcastle contemporary has been discussing the art of adding to +the beauty of women by the use of cosmetics, &c. May I commend the +following extract to the notice of the ladies of England?</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"No woman is capable of being beautiful who is capable of being false. +The true art of assisting beauty consists in embellishing the whole +person by the ornaments of virtuous and commendable qualities. How +much nobler is the contemplation of beauty when it is heightened +by virtue! How faint and spiritless are the charms of a coquette, +when compared with the loveliness of innocence, piety, good-humour, +and truth—virtues which add a new softness to their sex, and even +beautify their beauty! That agreeableness possessed by the modest +virgin is now preserved in the tender mother, the prudent friend, and +the faithful wife. Colours artfully spread upon canvas may entertain +the eye, but not touch the heart; and she who takes no care to add +to the natural graces of her person, noble qualities, may amuse as a +picture, but not triumph as a beauty."</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Cheltenham is a pleasant place. I quote from a memory which is, I know, +miserably defective:</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Year by year do England's daughters</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In the fairest gloves and shawls</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Troop to drink the Cheltenham waters,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And adorn the Cheltenham balls.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>This is not the place that one would naturally associate with violent +language over so small a matter as the rejection of some plans. A +quarrel, however, has taken place in the Town Council, and terrible +words have been spoken:—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"In the course of a discussion on the rejection of some plans, Mr. +<span class="sc">Margrett</span> accused the acting chairman of the Streets Committee +(Mr. <span class="sc">Parsonage</span>) with being influenced by personal and +political motives against the person (Mr. <span class="sc">Barnfield</span>) who +sent them in. Mr. <span class="sc">Parsonage</span> warmly retorted with the lie +direct, and told Mr. <span class="sc">Margrett</span> that he knew he was lying. Mr. +<span class="sc">Lenthall</span> accused Mr. <span class="sc">Parsonage</span> of being 'slip-shod' +in his method of bringing up the minutes of the Streets Committee, +because he had passed over without comment a dispute between the +Corporation and the Board of Guardians. While denying this imputation, +Mr. <span class="sc">Parsonage</span> said he would even prefer to be 'slip-shod' +than to follow Mr. <span class="sc">Lenthall's</span> example of giving utterance to +a long-winded and frothy oration over such a trumpery matter as a road +fence."</p></blockquote> + +<p>After this I quite expected to read that some one—</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;">... raised a point of order, when</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A chunk of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And he smiled a sort of sickly smile and curled upon the floor!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>But the matter seems to have dropped, and everything to have ended +peacefully—a great and bitter disappointment to all lovers of ructions.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Even in aquatic matters Ireland is a country of surprises. In the +Eight-oared race the other day for the "Pembroke Cup," there was a +dead-heat between the Shandon Boat Club and the Dublin University +Boat Club. In the row-off, the <i>Irish Independent</i> says that "Boat +Club caught the water first, but after a few strokes Shandon forged +in front. After the mile mark, Shandon were rowing eighteen against +the Boat Club's nineteen or twenty. In the next three hundred yards +Boat Club dropped to seventeen, the others being steady at nineteen +all through. About one hundred and fifty yards off the fishery step +the Boat Club quickened up to forty and got within two feet of their +opponents. Then, amid the greatest excitement, Boat Club got in front +and won by a canvas." A stroke oar who can row a race at nineteen to +the minute all through is steadier but certainly less versatile than +one who can spring suddenly from the rate of seventeen to the rate +of forty. As admirable as either is the genius of the reporter who +describes the event.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">H. M. Hyndman</span> is the Socialist candidate for Burnley. He +advocates "the immediate nationalisation and socialisation of railways, +mines, factories, and the land, with a view to establishing organised +co-operation for production and distribution in every department under +the control of the entire community. There should be a minimum wage +of thirty shillings a week in all State and Municipal employment, as +well as in State-created monopolies." There's a modest and practical +programme for you! But this windy gentleman's opponents may reply +that they prefer the system of each for himself, and d——l take the +<span class="sc">Hyndman</span>, to all the verbiage of the Socialist froth-pot.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Many reasons have been given for the fall of the late Government. It +has been left to a correspondent of the <i>Birmingham Daily Post</i> to +discover the real and only one. "It is most unfair," he says, "to hold +them entirely responsible for all the shortcomings, blunders, and +failures which distorted their administration. How could they help +these things? Has it never occurred to you that the Government of Lord +<span class="sc">Rosebery</span> was the '13th' Parliament of Queen <span class="sc">Victoria</span>? +Can anybody reasonably expect good government from a 13th Parliament? +It is out of all question." What <i>persiflage</i>, what wit!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>I sorrow over the new town clock of Dalkey. In my <i>Freeman's Journal</i> I +read that, at the monthly meeting of the Dalkey Township Commissioners, +a letter was read from Messrs. <span class="sc">Chancellor and Sons</span>, stating +that the new town clock could not be made to strike, but they could +make a new clock for £100. The letter was marked read—and no wonder. +If it can't strike, it had better be wound up, and Dalkey is obviously +the place to wind it. Otherwise there seems no reason in the Township's +name.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Clevedon is, I believe, in Somerset. Anyone in search of a sensation +ought to have gone there last week, for it is stated that "Mr. +<span class="sc">Victor Rosini's</span> Spectral Opera Company commenced a week's +engagement at the Public Hall on Monday evening." I cannot imagine +a spectral <i>basso</i> or <i>tenore robusto</i>. And in any case, why should +the unfortunate operatic spectres be harried into giving public +performances?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">Musical Honours!!</span>—The friends of Sir <span class="sc">Henry James, Q.C., +M.P.</span>, will celebrate his being raised to the peerage by serenading +with "<i>The Aylestone Chorus</i>."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<a href="images/014full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/014.jpg" width="800" height="571" alt=""VIVA L'ITALIA!"" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="ph4">"VIVA L'ITALIA!"</p> +<p><i>Admiral Punch</i> (<i>to Italia on the occasion of her Fleet visiting +England</i>). "<span class="sc">Welcome, <i>mia Bella</i>, to you and your splendid Ships! I +come of an old Italian Family myself!</span>"</p> +</div> +</div> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">HER PREVIOUS SWEETHEART.</p> + + +<p><i>Wednesday.</i>—Violet has accepted me, this very day, the happiest of +my life. She is the sweetest and prettiest woman in the world. I have +loved her long and passionately. She has not loved me long, and she +could never love me passionately. She is rather unemotional. Even when +I kissed her this afternoon for the first time she was quite calm. She +tells me she has once loved, as though she could never love again. Her +previous sweetheart was a Captain. I am a mere writer. His name was +<span class="sc">Percy Plantagenet Cholmondeley</span>. Mine is <span class="sc">Jones</span>. I hope +that in time she may forget him.</p> + + +<p><i>Thursday.</i>—Meet her in the Row, and sit under the trees. She is fond +of horses. So am I, but I do not ride often. She mentions that Captain +<span class="sc">Cholmondeley</span> was a splendid rider. Listen patiently to what +she tells me.</p> + +<p><i>Friday.</i>—To the Opera with <span class="sc">Violet</span> and her people. She +does not care for <span class="sc">Gounod's</span> <i>Faust</i>. Prefers a burlesque +with comic songs. Says the Captain sang comic songs admirably, with +banjo accompaniment. When it's well done, I also like that. Tell +her so. This encourages her to further reminiscences. Of course, +she is right to conceal nothing from me now we are engaged, but +frankness, even engaging frankness, may be carried too far. Manage +to change the subject at last, and then unfortunately the Soldier's +Chorus reminds her of a parody in an amateur burlesque which Captain +<span class="sc">Cholmondeley</span>——and so on.</p> + +<p><i>Saturday.</i>—Meet her at Hurlingham. She is so fond of polo. She says +the Captain was a splendid player. I expected that. A sort of Champion +of the World. Of course. I never played in my life. Listen to an +account of his exploits. Rather bored.</p> + +<p><i>Sunday.</i>—Up the river. Very hot day. Delightful to lounge in the +shade and smoke. <span class="sc">Violet</span> more energetic. Compels me to exert +myself. She says the Captain could do anything in a boat. No doubt. I +am prepared to hear that he shot the Falls of Niagara in a punt. He was +a wonderful genius. I am tired of hearing of him.</p> + +<p><i>Monday.</i>—To Mr. <span class="sc">Montgomery-Mumby's</span> dance. <span class="sc">Violet</span> +there of course. We both like dancing. Get on charmingly together. +Suddenly something reminds her of the ever-lamented Captain P. P. C. +I suggest that he has said good-bye to her for ever, as his initials +show. She does not see the little joke. Have to explain it to her. Then +she says it is a very poor joke. No doubt it is, but she needn't tell +me so. Annoying. A certain coolness between us.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—To the French play with <span class="sc">Violet</span> and her aunt. +She understands French very well. Seems to think a lot of me +because I know something of several languages. Ask her if Captain +<span class="sc">Cholmondeley</span> was fond of learning languages. Am prepared to +hear that he was a second <span class="sc">Mezzofanti</span>. On the contrary, it +seems that he couldn't speak a word of anything but English, and that +he didn't speak very much that was worth hearing even in that. The only +French he could understand was in a <i>menu</i>. Apparently he never read +anything else in any language, except the sporting papers in English. +Have at last found something he could not do. Delighted. Unfortunately +show this. <span class="sc">Violet</span> begins to defend him. I say he must have +been rather a duffer. She retorts that I can't play polo. What has that +to do with it? Again a coolness between us.</p> + +<p><i>Wednesday.</i>—It is all over! We have parted for ever. She could never +forget that confounded Captain. Asked her this morning, when she was +telling me of his shooting elephants, or alligators, or rabbits, or +sparrows, or something wonderful, why she did not marry him. She says +it was broken off. She shows me his last letter of farewell. I read +it critically. It is very short. Point out to her nine mistakes in +spelling, and four in grammar. She says I am brutal. Indignation. +Argument. Scorn. Tears. Farewell.</p> + + +<hr class="short" /> + + +<p class="ph3">GREAT WHEEL GOSSIP.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 463px;"> +<a href="images/015full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/015.jpg" width="363" height="400" alt="THAT DOESN'T COUNT" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="ph4">SO <span class="under">THAT</span> DOESN'T COUNT.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">"Are you sure they're quite Fresh?" "Wot a Question to arst! Can't +yer see they're Alive?" "Yes; but <i>you</i>'re <i>Alive</i>, you know!"</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<p>Are you quite sure that it is safe?</p> + +<p>Well, there have been all sorts of stories about this sort of thing, +but I don't believe it. The <span class="sc">Prince</span> went, you know.</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, of course. Then that's all right. Now we are off. How +interesting! We can see the tops of the houses! But what are we waiting +for?</p> + +<p>Oh, for other passengers to get into the cars. How long does it take?</p> + +<p>About three-quarters of an hour. Well, now we are off again.</p> + +<p>Why, there is a mist, and we can't see anything.</p> + +<p>Oh, yes, we can. Why, that must be either Kensington Gardens, Hyde Park +Corner, or Battersea Park.</p> + +<p>Don't think there is much in it. And why are we stopping?</p> + +<p>People getting in and out. Well, now we have had thirty-five minutes of +it, I shall be glad to be home.</p> + +<p>Oh, here we are. Now we can get out. Come, that is nice!</p> + +<p>No, we can't! <i>We have missed the landing, and have to go round +again.</i><a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + + + +<p>After two journeys I think the best way of thoroughly enjoying the +Wheel is to sit fast, close your eyes, and think of something else!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">IN THE EARL'S COURT INDIA.</p> + +<p class="ph4"><span class="sc">In Bombay Street, Indian City. Time—About Eight p.m.</span></p> + +<p><i>A Matron</i> (<i>to her friend, as they approach the natives at work</i>). +Everything seems for sale here, my dear. <i>Just</i> the place to get a +nice wedding-present for dear <span class="sc">Emily</span>. I want to give her +<i>something</i> Indian, as she will be going out there so soon. What +are they doing in here? oh, glass-blowing!... See, <span class="sc">Jane</span>, +this one is making glass bangles.... Well, no, <span class="sc">Emily</span> would +think it <i>rather</i> shabby if I gave her a pair of those. I might get +one apiece for Cook and <span class="sc">Phœbe</span>—servants are always so +grateful for any little attention of that sort—though I shouldn't +like to encourage a taste for finery; well, it will do very well when +we come back.... Perhaps one of those brass dinner-gongs—there's a +large one, I see, marked seven-and-sixpence—but I'd rather give her +something <i>quieter</i>—something she'd value for its <i>own</i> sake.... Now +one of those chased silver bowls—twenty-five-and-nine-pence? Well, +it seems a little——and though I was always very fond of her mother, +<span class="sc">Emily</span> was never——I must <i>think</i> over it.... She might like a +set of beetle-wing mats—only they're not likely to entertain much.... +How would one of these embroidered tablecloths—eh? oh, I'm sure I've +seen them much cheaper at <span class="sc">Liberty's</span>; and besides——(<i>After +a prolonged inspection of various articles at various stalls.</i>) After +all, I shall be going to Tunbridge Wells next week. I think I'll wait. +I might see something there I liked <i>better</i>, you know!</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 403px;"> +<a href="images/016full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/016.jpg" width="403" height="500" alt=""Stands smiling feebly"" /></a> +<div class="caption">"Stands smiling feebly"</div> +</div> + + +<p><i>A Wife</i> (<i>to her husband, who is examining the stock of a native +shoemaker with interest</i>). No, <span class="sc">Charles</span>. I put up with a <i>great +deal</i> for the sake of your society of an evening; but if you imagine I +am going to have you sitting opposite me with your feet in a pair of +slippers separated into two horrid toes, you make a great mistake! Put +the dreadful things down and come away.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. McPairtan</i> (<i>from the North, to his small nephew</i>). Eh, +<span class="sc">Robbie</span>, my man, I'm thinking your mither wouldna' just +approve o' my takkin' ye to sic a perfairmance as yon Burrmese +dancing-women.... Nay, nay, laddie, there's deceitfulness eneugh in +the naitural man withoot needing to lairn ony mair o't fro' these +puir juggling Indian bodies wi' their snake-chairmin' an' sic godless +doins!... Ride on the elephant? Havers! Ye can do that fine in the +Zooloagical Gairdens.... 'Twould be just sinful extrawvagance in me to +be throwing away guid siller wi' so mony bonny sichts to be seen for +naething.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Gourmay</i> (<i>who is dying for his dinner, to his pretty cousins, who +cannot be got past the Indian craftsmen</i>). Yes, yes, very interesting, +and all that; but we can see it just as well if we come back <i>later</i>, +you know.</p> + +<p><i>His Cousin Belle.</i> But they may have stopped by then. I <i>must</i> just +see him finish the pattern; it's too <i>fascinating!</i></p> + +<p><i>Mr. Gourm.</i> I—er—don't want to <i>hurry</i> you, you know, only, you see, +if we don't look sharp, we shan't be in time to secure an outside table +at the Restaurant. Much jollier dining in the open air.</p> + +<p><i>His Cousin Imogen.</i> Oh, it's too hot to <i>think</i> of food. I'm not in +the <i>least</i> hungry—are <i>you</i>, Belle?</p> + +<p><i>Belle.</i> No; I'd ever so much rather see the Burmese dancers and the +Indian conjurors. I don't want to waste the best part of the evening +over dinner; we might have some of that nice Indian tea and a piece of +cake by-and-by, perhaps, if there's time.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="stage">[<i>Speechless delight of</i> Mr. <span class="sc">Gourmay</span>.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Energetic Leader</i> (<i>to his party, who are faint, but pursuing</i>). No, +there's nothing particular to see here. I tell you what <i>my</i> plan is. +We'll go and do the Kinetoscopes and the Phonographs, have a look at +the Great Wheel, and some shots at the Rifle Range, cross over and +take a turn on the Switchback, finish up with a cold-meat supper at +<span class="sc">Spiers and Pond's</span>, and a stroll round the band-stand, and, by +the time we've done, we shall have got a very fair idea of what India's +<i>like!</i></p> + +<p><i>First Relative</i> (<i>to Second</i>). What's become of Aunt <span class="sc">Joanna</span>? +I thought she was going on one of the elephants.</p> + +<p><i>Second Relative.</i> She would have it none of 'em looked strong enough +for her. And what <i>do</i> you think she goes and does next? Tries to +bargain with a black man to take her for a turn on one o' them little +bullock-carts! I really hadn't the patience to stop and see what come +of it.</p> + +<p><i>Miss Rashleigh</i> (<i>by the Burmese Cheroot Stall, audibly, to her +companion</i>). Just look at this girl, my dear, with a great cigar in +her mouth! Fancy their being New Women in Burmah! And such a <i>hideous</i> +creature, too!</p> + +<p><i>Her Companion.</i> Take care, my dear, she'll hear you. I expect she +understands English.</p> + +<p><i>Miss Rashleigh</i> (<i>with ready tact and resourcefulness</i>). Then let's +tell her how pretty she is!</p> + +<p class="ph4"><span class="sc">In the Indian Jungle.</span></p> + +<p><i>Mr. Moul</i> (<i>to</i> Mrs. <span class="sc">Moul</span>, <i>as they halt before a darkened +interior representing a coolie sleeping in an Indian hut, which a +leopard is stealthily entering</i>). Ah, now I do call that something +<i>like!</i> Lovely! <i>ain't</i> it?</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Moul.</i> It's beautiful. 'Ow ever they can <i>do</i> it all! (<i>After a +pause</i>.) Why, I do believe there's a <i>animal</i> of some sort up at the +further end! Can you see him, <span class="sc">Samson</span>?</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Moul.</i> A animal! where? Ah, I can make out somethink now. (<i>With +pleased surprise.</i>) And look—there's a man layin' down right in +front—do you see?</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Moul.</i> Well, I never! so there is! To think o' <i>that</i> now. They +<i>'ave</i> got it up nice, I will say that.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="stage">[<i>They pass out, pleased with their own powers of observation.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p class="ph4"><span class="sc">In the Indian Theatre.</span></p> + +<p><i>Hindu Magician</i> (<i>as he squats on the stage and takes out serpents +from flat baskets</i>). Here is a sna-ake—no bite—Bombay cobra, verri +good cobra. (<i>Introducing them formally to audience.</i>) Dis beeg +cobra, dis smahl cobra. (<i>One of them erects its hood and strikes at +his foot,</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> <i>which he withdraws promptly.</i>) No bite, verri moch nice +sna-ake. (<i>He plays a tune to them; one listens coldly and critically, +the others slither rapidly towards the edge of the platform, to the +discomposure of spectators in the front row; the</i> Magician <i>recaptures +them by the tail at the critical moment, ties them round his neck and +arms, and then puts them away, like toys.</i>) Here I have shtone; verri +good Inglis shtone. I hold so. (<i>Closing it in his fist.</i>) Go away, +shtone. Go to Chicago, Leeverpool, Hamburg. (<i>Opening fist.</i>) Shtone +no dere. I shut again. (<i>Opening fist.</i>) One, two, Inglis shillin's. +(<i>Singling out a</i> Spectator.) You, Sar, come up here queeck. Comonn!</p> + +<p><i>The Spectator.</i> Not me! Not among all them snakes you've got +there—don't you think it!</p> + +<p><i>The Magician and a Tom-tom player</i> (<i>together</i>). Verri nice +sna-akes—no bite. Comonn, help play.</p> + +<p><i>Angelina</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="sc">Edwin</span>, <i>as the invitation is coyly but firmly +declined</i>). <span class="sc">Edwin</span>, do go up and help the man—to please <i>me</i>. +And if you find him out in cheating, you can expose him, you know.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="stage">[<span class="sc">Edwin</span> <i>clambers up and stands, smiling feebly, at the</i> +Magician's <i>side amidst general applause</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>The Magician</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="sc">Edwin</span>). Sit down, sit down, sit down. Now +you count—how menni sillings? Dere is seeks.</p> + +<p><i>Edwin</i> (<i>determined not to be taken in</i>). Four, you mean.</p> + +<p><i>The Magician.</i> I tell you seeks. Count after me—One, tree, five, +seeks. Shtill onli four, you say? Shut dem in your hand—so. Now blow. +(<span class="sc">Edwin</span> <i>puffs at his fist</i>.) Open your hand, and count. One, +two, tree, four, five, seeks, summon, ight, nine, tin, like, vise! Dis +Inglisman make money verri moch nice; verri goot Inglisman. Put dem in +your hand again, and shut. Hûblo! Now open.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="stage">[<span class="sc">Edwin</span> <i>opens his fist, to discover in it two small and +extremely active serpents, which he rejects in startled dismay</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Angelina</i> (<i>to herself</i>). How <i>nasty</i> of <span class="sc">Edwin</span>! He <i>must</i> +have felt them inside.</p> + +<p><i>The Magician</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="sc">Edwin</span>). Verri nice sna-akes; but where +is my monni? (<span class="sc">Edwin</span> <i>shakes his head helplessly</i>.) Ah, dis +Inglisman too moch plenti cheat. (<i>He seizes</i> <span class="sc">Edwin's</span> <i>nose, +from which he extracts a shower of shillings</i>.) Aha! Verri goot Inglis +nose—hold plenty monni!</p> + +<p><i>Angelina</i> (<i>as</i> <span class="sc">Edwin</span> <i>returns to her in triumph</i>). No; +<i>please</i> turn your head away, <span class="sc">Edwin</span>. I can't <i>look</i> at your +nose without thinking of those horrid shillings; and oh, are you +<i>quite</i> sure you haven't got any of those horrid snakes up your sleeve? +I do <i>wish</i> you hadn't gone!</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p class="stage">[<i>So does</i> <span class="sc">Edwin</span>.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>A Serious Old Lady</i> (<i>as the</i> Magician <i>produces from his throat +several yards of coloured yarn, a small china doll, about a gross of +tenpenny nails, and a couple of eggs</i>). Clever, my dear? I daresay; +but it seems to me a pity that a man who has been given such talents +shouldn't turn them to better account!</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">ELECTION INTELLIGENCE.</p> + +<p><i>Brybury-on-the-Pocket.</i>—Both candidates very busy. Meetings are +being held all day long at the principal hotels, and any number of +livery-stable-keepers have promised to lend their carriages on the +day of election. The agents on either side have an enormous staff of +assistants, and trade was never known to be brisker during the present +century.</p> + +<p><i>Crowncrushington.</i>—This will be a very near contest. As political +feeling runs rather high, a number of extra beds have been prepared in +the hospitals. The police have been reinforced, and the military are +close at hand, and every other preparation has been made to secure the +declaration of the poll with as little friction as possible.</p> + +<p><i>Meddle-cum-Muddleborough.</i>—At present there are seven candidates, +but as three of these have issued their manifestoes under some +misapprehension it is not unlikely that the number will be reduced +before the day of nomination. It is not easy to foretell the result, as +since the establishment of the ballot every election has ended not only +in surprise but stupefaction.</p> + +<p><i>Selfseekington.</i>—It is not unlikely that there will be no contest +in this important borough. The (until recently) sitting member has +fixed the day that would naturally have fallen to the function of the +returning officer for the laying of the foundation stones of his Baths, +Wash-houses, Free Library and Town Hall, and the opening of his Public +Park.</p> + +<p><i>Wrottenborough.</i>—The popular candidate has pledged himself to +supporting Local Veto, the Licensed Victuallers, Establishment, +Disestablishment, Home Rule, the Integrity of the Empire, +Anti-Vaccination, the Freedom of the Medical Profession, and many other +matters of conflicting importance. The polling will be of a perfunctory +character, as expenses are being cut down on both sides.</p> + +<p><i>Zany-town-on-the-Snooze.</i>—There will be no contest in this division. +At present there is no intelligence of any sort to chronicle.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">Tag for the Testimonial.</span>—"The power of <span class="sc">Grace</span>, the +magic of a name."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">DALY NEWS, AND DRAMATIC NOTES.</p> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 265px;"> +<a href="images/017bfull.jpg"> +<img src="images/017b.jpg" width="265" height="450" alt="Miss Rehan as Julia." /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="center">Miss Rehan as Julia.<br /> + +"The Third Page in her Life."</p></div> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 399px;"> +<a href="images/017afull.jpg"> + +<img src="images/017a.jpg" width="299" height="350" alt="The Duke discovers the rope-ladder" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="center">The Duke discovers the rope-ladder<br /> under Valentine's +cloak.</p> + + + +<p class="center">"The Rope Trick exposed."</p></div> +</div> +<p>Ere these lines can appear, the <i>Two Gentlemen of Verona</i> and their +two Ladies will have vanished from Daly's Theatre like the baseless +fabric of a dream, leaving, however, a very pleasant recollection of +the play in the minds of all who saw it—and a great many did, for +<span class="sc">Shakspeare's</span> <i>Two Gents</i> is a dramatic curiosity. Prettily +put on the stage as it was, with good music, picturesque costumes +and clever acting, it will dwell in our memories as an exceptionally +attractive revival.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">George Clarke</span>, the "stern parient," appeared as something +between a Doge and a Duke, and equally good as either, you bet; that +is, "'lowing," as <i>Uncle Remus</i> has it, that either Doge or Duke +has passed the greater part of his life in the United States. Mr. +<span class="sc">Frank Worthing</span> (nice seasidey name on a hot night in town) +a gentlemanly-villainous <i>Proteus</i>, and Mr. <span class="sc">John Craig</span> an +equally gentlemanly-virtuous <i>Valentine</i>. So "Gents both" are disposed +of. Mr. <i>James Lewis</i>, as <i>Launce</i>, playing "the lead" to his dog, put +into the part new humour in place of the old which has evaporated by +fluxion of time. <i>Launce's</i> sly dog, very original; part considerably +curtailed.</p> + + + + + +<p>I see that a descendant of <span class="sc">Tyrone Power</span> appears as "Mine +Host." I did not gather from his costume that he was "a host in +himself," but thought he was a Venetian Judge or retired Doge; the +latter surmise receiving some confirmation from the fact that, while +the singing was going on, he, being somnolent, "doge'd" (as <i>Mrs. +Gamp</i> would say) in his chair. Sleeping or waking his was a dignified +performance. Miss <span class="sc">Elliot</span> a graceful <i>Sylvia</i>, who, as a +Milanese brunette, is artistically contrasted with Miss <span class="sc">Ada +Rehan</span>, of Florentine fairness, as <i>Julia</i>. All that is wanting +to this sketchy character Miss <span class="sc">Rehan</span> fills in, and makes the +design a finished picture. Improbable that <i>Proteus</i> should never +recognize <i>Julia</i> when disguised as a boy until she herself reveals her +identity. However, it was a very early work of <span class="sc">William's</span>: mere +child's play.</p> + +<p class="center">* * * * *</p> + +<p>The most Clement of critics, our learned and ever amiable Scotus of +the <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, speaking with authority from his column last +Saturday, recalls to us how many English actors and actresses have +successfully played in French on the Parisian stage, and adds to the +list the name of <span class="sc">Marie Halton</span>, who, excellent both in singing +and acting as <i>La Cigale</i> at the Lyric, will soon appear at a new +theatre in Paris, where she is to "create" French <i>rôles</i>—which, +Mlle. <span class="sc">Marie</span>, is a very pleasant way of making your bread. But +if we have in this actress an English <i>Chaumont</i>, why does not some +such astute manager as Mr. <span class="sc">Edwardes</span>, the Universal Theatre +Provider, induce <span class="sc">Halton</span> to Stay on—here, not only for her own +"benefit," but for that of the Light Opera-loving public.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;"> +<a href="images/017cfull.jpg"> + +<img src="images/017c.jpg" width="100" height="200" alt="Marie Halton" /></a> +</div> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> +<a href="images/018full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/018.jpg" width="700" height="435" alt="TRUE HYPERBOLE." /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="ph4">TRUE HYPERBOLE.</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> "<span class="sc">What a lovely Frock!... <i>Worth</i>, I suppose</span>?" <i>She.</i> +"<span class="sc">Monsieur Worth is dead</span>."</p> + +<p><i>He.</i> "<span class="sc">Ah! it <i>looks</i> as if it came from Heaven!</span>"</p> +</div> +</div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">THE OLD CHIEFTAIN'S FAREWELL.</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>["The impending Dissolution brings into its practical and final +form the prospective farewell which I addressed last year to the +constituency of Midlothian."—<i>Mr. Gladstone's Farewell Letter to the +Electors of Midlothian.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Air</span>—<i>Burns's "The Farewell."</i></p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It was a' for our Glorious Cause</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I sought fair Scotland's strand;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It was a' for fair, rightfu' laws</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To bless the Irish land,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To bless the Irish land.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now a' is done that man could do,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And a' seems done in vain,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My loved Midlothian, farewell,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I mauna stand again,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I canna stand again.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For fifteen lang an' happy years,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">That ne'er may be forgot,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">We have foregathered, loved, and fought.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fare farther I may not,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fare farther may I not.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yet say not that our love has failed,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Or that our battle's lost;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Were I yet young I'd fight again,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And never count the cost,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And never count the cost.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tegither we've won mony a fight,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">You following where I led;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But now late Winter's chilling snows</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Are gatherin' round my head,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Are gatherin' round my head.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And times will change, and Chieftains pass.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Lang time I've borne the brunt</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Of war; and now I'm glad to see</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="sc">Carmichael</span> to the front,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sir <span class="sc">Tammy</span> to the front.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A champion stout, I mak nae doubt,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">He'll carry on my task.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To see ye braw and doing weel,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Henceforth is a' I ask.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Henceforth is a' I ask.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">True Scot am I—Midlothian's heart</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I won. Now I fare far,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And leave a younger chieftain, <span class="sc">Tam</span>,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To lead the Lowland war,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 9em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">To lead the Lowland war!</span><br /> +</p> + + +<hr class="poem" /> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He turned him right and round about</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Upon the Scottish shore.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He gae his bonnet plume a shake,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With "Adieu for evermore,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 11em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Adieu for evermore!</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"<span class="sc">Rosebery</span> will from fight return,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wi' loss or else wi' gain;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But I am parted from my love,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Never to meet again,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 11em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Never to meet again.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"When day is gone, and night is come,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A' folk are fain to rest;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I'll think on thee, though far awa',</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While pulse throbs in this breast,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 11em;">My dear;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">While pulse throbs in my breast!"</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Smith, Elder & Co.</span> are carrying out a happy thought in +projecting what they call the Novel Series, a title which is the least +felicitous part of the business. It is designed to meet the views of +those who desire to possess, not to borrow (or indeed to steal) good +books. The volumes will not be too large to be carried in the pocket, +nor too small to lie on the shelf. Neatly bound, admirably printed, +they are to cost from two shillings up to four shillings, presumably +according to length and the inclusion of illustrations. The series +leads off with <i>The Story of Bessie Costrell</i>, by Mrs. <span class="sc">Humphry +Ward</span>. The story, if not precisely pleasant, is decidedly powerful. +Once taken up, there is uncontrollable disposition to read on to the +end, a yearning the size of the volume makes it possible conveniently +to satisfy. The new series starts with a promise announcements of +succeeding contributions seem likely to fulfil.</p> + +<p class="author"> +<span class="sc">The Baron de Book-Worms.</span> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center">New Carillon at the Royal Exchange.</p> + +<p>The tunes are admirably selected. First air every morning, "I know a +Bank," to be known as "The Morning Air."</p> + +<p><i>For Panic Days.</i>—"Oh dear, what can the matter be!"</p> + +<p><i>Bad Business Days.</i>—"Nae luck about 'the House.'"</p> + +<p><i>Good Business.</i>—"Here we go up, up, up!"</p> + +<p><i>South African Market Chorus.</i>—"Mine for Evermore!"</p> + +<p>This scheme of arrangement is to be generally known as "<i>The Bells' +Stratagem</i>."</p> + + + +<hr class="tb" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 623px;"> +<a href="images/019full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/019.jpg" width="623" height="800" alt="ARE YOU READY" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="ph4">"ARE YOU READY?"</p> + +<p>(<span class="sc">S-l-sb-ry</span> <i>and</i> <span class="sc">R-s-b-ry</span> <i>starting the Bicyclist +Competitors</i> <span class="sc">B-lf-r</span> <i>and</i> <span class="sc">H-rc-rt</span>.)]</p> +</div> +</div> + + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">SCRAPS FROM CHAPS.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">A Real Uncrowned King.</span>—At a meeting of the Town Commissioners +of Kinsale, a report of the proceedings discloses a conversation of a +truly remarkable kind—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"The Chairman thought that if they paid Mr. <span class="sc">Punch</span> his +quarter's salary up to the 1st February they would be dealing very +fairly with him, especially as they had appointed his son as his +successor.... Messrs. <span class="sc">Kiely</span> and <span class="sc">P. S. O'Connor</span> +contended that as Mr. <span class="sc">Punch</span> was never dismissed by them, and +the non-performance of his duties was through no fault of his own, he +was entitled to some remuneration."</p></blockquote> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 353px;"> +<a href="images/021full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/021.jpg" width="353" height="550" alt="MAKING ALLOWANCES." /></a> +<div class="caption">MAKING ALLOWANCES.<br /> +<p><i>The Little Minister.</i> "<span class="sc">How well you're looking, Mac-Cullum!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>The Big Farmer.</i> "<span class="sc">Weel—I'm weel in Pairts. But I'm ower Muckle to +be weel all ower at ain time!</span>"</p></div> +</div> + +<p>We should think he was, indeed! <i>Some</i> remuneration, quotha? Does +not the mere fact that he bears a name honoured and revered in every +corner of the globe entitle him to a pension on the very highest +scale known to the L. G. B.? Not, we need hardly say, an "old age" +pension. Perpetual youth is the prerogative of all <span class="sc">Punches</span>. +And they "have appointed his son as his successor." Well, of course! +How can a <span class="sc">Punch</span> do anything but succeed? He would be a rum +<span class="sc">Punch</span> if he didn't! Greetings to our distant kinsman of +Kinsale!</p> + + + + + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">One Man, One Topper!</span>—In the <i>Glasgow Herald</i> somebody writes +as follows:—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"It is surely time Mr. <span class="sc">Duncan</span> saw to his bus-drivers' hats! +Such a miscellaneous collection of seedy hats, I think, could not be +found elsewhere; they are a positive disgrace to the city."</p></blockquote> + +<p>The writer ought to have signed himself "<span class="sc">Macbeth</span>;" the +"unguarded <span class="sc">Duncan</span>," whoever he may be, must be on his guard, +or passengers will strike for better hats. All bus-drivers and +conductors should wear silk hats, to typify the habitual softness of +their address. Why not put them into livery at once? The company that +did that would probably attract no end of custom. No revolution like +it, since the abolition of the box-seat! Uniform charges and uniformed +conductors should be the future rule of the road.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Not Kilt, but Spacheless.</span>"—At Clonakilty Sessions the other +day, the following evidence was given:—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Patrick Feen</span> was examined, and stated he resided at +Dunnycove, parish of Ardfield.... Gave defendant's brother a blow of +his open hand and knocked him down for fun, and out of friendship. +(<i>Laughter.</i>)"</p></blockquote> + +<p>What a good-natured, open-handed friend Mr. <span class="sc">Patrick Feen</span> must +be! <span class="sc">John Hegarty</span>, the person assaulted, corroborated the +account, and added,—</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>"When he was knocked down, he stopped there. (<i>Laughter.</i>)"</p></blockquote> + +<p>In fact, he "held the field," and "remained in possession of the +ground." Who will now say that the old humour is dying out in Erin?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">Of Dr. Tristram (Shandy) in the Inconsistory Court.</span>—"O +<span class="sc">Tristram! Tristram! Tristram!</span>" * * "And pray which way is this +affair of <span class="sc">Tristram</span> at length settled by these learned men?"</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>"Toby" to Yorick.</i></span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>What a nice dish for lunch would be what we find mentioned in the +Racing Order of the Day, <i>i.e.</i> "<i>Plate of 150 sous</i>." Excellent! To be +washed down with a draught of Guineas stout!</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">BRIGGS, OF BALLIOL.</p> + +<p class="ph4"><span class="sc">Part I.</span></p> + +<p><span class="sc">Briggs</span> was the gayest dog in Balliol. If there was a bonfire +in the quad, and if the dons found their favourite chairs smouldering +in the ashes, <span class="sc">Briggs</span> was at the bottom of it. If the bulldogs +were led a five-mile chase at one o'clock in the morning, the gownless +figure that lured them on was <span class="sc">Briggs</span>. If the supper at +<span class="sc">Vinnie's</span> became so uproarious that the Proctor thought it +necessary to interfere, the gentleman that dropped him from the +first-floor window was <span class="sc">Briggs</span>. Anyone else would have been +sent down over and over again, but—<span class="sc">Briggs</span> stroked the Balliol +boat: <span class="sc">Briggs</span> had his cricket blue; <span class="sc">Briggs</span> was a dead +certainty against Cambridge for the quarter and the hundred: in short, +<span class="sc">Briggs</span> was indispensable to the College and the 'Varsity, and +therefore he was allowed to stay.</p> + +<p>But what is this? A change has come over <span class="sc">Briggs</span>. He is another +man. Can it be——? Impossible—and yet? Yes, it began that very +night. Everyone has heard of Miss <span class="sc">O'Gress</span>, the Pioneer. She +came up to Oxford to lecture; her subject was "Man: his Position and +<i>Raison d'être</i>." <span class="sc">Briggs</span> and I went to hear; went in light +laughing mood with little fear of any consequences. We listened to +the <span class="sc">O'Gress</span>. "There is no doubt," she said, "that Man was +intended by Nature to be the Father. For this high calling he should +endeavour to fit himself by every means in his power. He should +cultivate his body so as to render himself attractive to Woman. He +should be tall,"—her eye fell on <span class="sc">Briggs</span>—"he should be +handsome,"—still on <span class="sc">Briggs</span>—"he should be graceful, he +should be athletic."—At this point her eye seemed fairly to feast on +<span class="sc">Briggs</span>, and a curious lurid light lowered in it. She paused a +moment. I was sitting next to <span class="sc">Briggs</span>, and I felt a shiver run +through him. I looked at his face, and it was ghastly pale. I asked him +in a whisper if he felt faint? He impatiently motioned me to be silent, +and remained, as I thought, like a bird paralysed beneath the gaze of a +serpent. I heard no more, so anxious was I on my friend's account; nor +could I breathe with any freedom until the audience rose and we were +once again in the fresh air.</p> + +<p>The following day there was a garden-party at Trinity. <span class="sc">Briggs</span> +said he was playing for the 'Varsity against Lancashire, and therefore +could not go. Imagine my surprise then, when, as I was doing the polite +among the strawberries and cream, I caught sight of him slinking down +the lime grove at the heels of the <span class="sc">O'Gress</span>. I rubbed my eyes +and looked again. Yes, it was <span class="sc">Briggs</span> indeed. The face was his; +the features were his; the figure was his; the clothes were his—but, +the buoyant step? the merry laugh? where, where, eh! where were they?</p> + +<p class="center">* * * * *</p> + + +<p>The Long Vac. passed, and we were all up again for Michaelmas Term. +There was a blank in our circle. "Where's <span class="sc">Briggs</span>?" asked +<span class="sc">Brown</span>. "Where's <span class="sc">Briggs</span>?" asked <span class="sc">Trotter</span> of +Trinity. We looked at one another. What! Nobody seen <span class="sc">Briggs</span>? +Not up yet?—Better go and see. We went to his rooms. No +<span class="sc">Briggs</span> there, and not a sign of his coming. We went to +<span class="sc">Jones</span>. <span class="sc">Jones</span> knew no more than we; to <span class="sc">Smith</span>, +<span class="sc">Green</span>, <span class="sc">Roberts</span>—all equally ignorant. At last we +tried the Porter. What! hadn't we heard the news? News? No! What +news? The Porter's face grew long. Why, Mr. <span class="sc">Briggs</span>, 'e +weren't comin' up no more. Not coming up? Not coming up? Nonsense! +Impossible!—Fact, gentlemen, fact. The Master,'e'd 'ad a note from Mr. +<span class="sc">Briggs</span>, sayin' as 'ow 'e wouldn't be back agin. No one knew +nothink more than that. No one could explain it.</p> + +<p>There was despair in Balliol. What would become of us? Without +<span class="sc">Briggs</span> we could never catch B. N. C. Magdalen would bump +us to a certainty, and we could hardly hope to escape the House. +In football it would be just as bad. Keble and Exeter would simply +jump on us, and not a single Balliol man would have his blue. The +position was appalling; ruin stared us in the face; the College was in +consternation, for <span class="sc">Briggs</span> had disappeared.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">NOTE BY A NATIONALIST.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Home Rule all Round!" That cry is in the air:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What Ireland wants, though, is Home Rule all <i>square</i>.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<a href="images/022full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/022.jpg" width="800" height="570" alt="Is your Son improving in his Violin-playing" /> +</a> +<div class="caption"><p>"<span class="sc">Is your Son improving in his Violin-playing, Mr. +Jones?</span>"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Well—either he's improving, or we're getting used to it!</span>"</p> +</div> +</div> +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph2">Thomas Henry Huxley.</p> + +<p class="ph3"> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><span class="sc">Born, May 4, 1825.</span> <span class="sc">Died, June 30, 1895.</span></span> +</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Another star of Science slips</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Into the shadow of eclipse!—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yet no; the <i>light</i> is nowise gone,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But burning still, and travelling on</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The unborn future to illume,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And dissipate a distant gloom.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">True man of Science he, yet more,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Master of metaphysic lore,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lover of history and of art,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He played a multifarious part.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With clear head and incisive tongue</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dowered, on all he touched he flung</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Those rarer charms of grace and wit.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Great learning may not always hit.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To his "liege lady Science" true,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He narrowed not a jealous view</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To her alone, but found all life</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With charm and ethic interest rife.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Knowing plain lore of germ and plant,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With dreams of <span class="sc">Hamilton</span> and <span class="sc">Kant</span>,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">All parts of the great human plan.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">England in him has lost a Man.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The great Agnostic, clear, brave, true,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Taught more things, may be, than he deemed he knew.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">Business.</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer</i> (<i>drawing up prospectus</i>). Shall I write "Company" with a +big C?</p> + +<p><i>Honest Broker.</i> Certainly, if it's a sound one, as it represents +"Company" with a capital.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">MR. BRIEFLESS, JUN., ON THE LONG VACATION.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately I was prevented, by an appointment of a semi-professional +character—I had been desired by a maiden aunt to give her my advice +upon a question, of damage arising out of a canine assault committed +by her lap-dog—from being present at the General Meeting of the Bar, +and consequently was unable to take part in the annual deliberations of +my learned and friendly colleagues. From what passed on the occasion +to which I refer, I gather that there was an inclination to call the +Benchers of the Inns of Court to account. It seems to me—and I believe +that I am right in the opinion—that, so long as our Masters worthily +represent the dignity of the profession, we Members of the Inner and +Outer Bar have no tangible cause for complaint.</p> + +<p>But I fancy the leading subject at the Forensic Congress was the Long +Vacation. Judging from the numerous letters that have reached me +from both branches of the profession, this is a matter of the first +importance to all of us. I have been asked by many of my learned and +friendly colleagues, and my nearly equally learned and even more +friendly clients, to give my opinion on the subject. One respected +correspondent who hails from Ely Place, writes, "How could you possibly +recover from the wear and tear of your arduous practice in Trinity +Term, had you not a part of August and nearly the whole of September +and October ready to hand for recuperation?" I quite agree with Sir +<span class="sc">George</span>—I should say, my respected correspondent—that as I +near "the long," I do feel the need of rest—nay, even considerable +rest. Then a learned friend who represents not only the Bar, but +chivalry in its forensic form, sends me a caricature of "<span class="sc">Dicky +W.</span>" that would suggest that were the holidays to be decreased, +a wearer of a most distinguished order, and an athlete of no small +fame would be reduced to a condition of complete collapse. Once again, +an ornament to our Bench—perhaps the greatest ornament—honours me +with the suggestion that were we to lose a month of recreation, it +might sadden the terraces of Monte Carlo, and eclipse the merriment of +Newmarket Heath. It is needless to state that all these communications +have had weight with me. Still, I have deemed it desirable to approach +the subject with an open mind. It seems to me (and no doubt to many +others) that the question narrows itself into a matter of finance. I +have therefore taken <span class="sc">Portington</span> into my counsels, and examined +with unusual care the pages of my Fee Book. After much consultation +with my admirable and excellent clerk, and an exhaustive audit of +the figures of my forensic <i>honoraria</i>, I have come to the matured +conclusion that the lengthening or the shortening of the Long Vacation +does not affect me financially in the very least.</p> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Signed</i>) <span class="sc">A. Briefless, Junior</span>.</p> +<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Pump-handle Court, June 22, 1895.</i></span> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Football is to be played in all the schools and colleges of Russia. The +champion of the game is known as Prince <span class="sc">Khikoff</span>.</p> + + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<a href="images/023full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/023.jpg" width="800" height="535" alt="THE FATE OF ROTTEN ROW" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="ph4">THE FATE OF ROTTEN ROW.</p></div> +</div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="center">ON VIEW AT HENLEY.</p> + +<p>The most characteristic work of that important official, the clerk of +the weather.</p> + +<p>The young lady who has never been before, and wants to know the names +of the eights who compete for the Diamond Sculls.</p> + +<p>The enthusiastic boating man, who, however, prefers luncheon when the +hour arrives, to watching the most exciting race imaginable.</p> + +<p>The itinerant vendors of "coolers" and other delightful comestibles.</p> + +<p>The troupes of niggers selected and not quite select.</p> + +<p>The house-boat with decorations in odious taste, and company to match.</p> + +<p>The "perfect gentleman's rider" (from Paris) who remembers boating +at Asnières thirty years ago, when <span class="sc">Jules</span> wore when rowing +lavender kid-gloves and high top-boots.</p> + +<p>The calm mathematician (from Berlin), who would prefer to see the races +represented by an equation.</p> + +<p>The cute Yankee (from New York), who is quite sure that some of the +losing crews have been "got at" while training.</p> + +<p>The guaranteed enclosure, with band, lunch and company of the same +quality.</p> + +<p>The "very best view of the river" from a dozen points of the compass.</p> + +<p>Neglected maidens, bored matrons, and odd men out.</p> + +<p>Quite the prettiest toilettes in the world.</p> + +<p>The Thames Conservancy in many branches.</p> + +<p>Launches: steam, electric, accommodating and the reverse.</p> + +<p>Men in flannels who don't boat, and men in tweeds who do.</p> + +<p>A vast multitude residential, and a vaster come per rail from town.</p> + +<p>Three glorious days of excellent racing, at once national and unique.</p> + +<p>An aquatic festival, a pattern to the world.</p> + +<p>And before all and above all, a contest free from all chicanery, and +the very embodiment of fairplay.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">From a Correspondent.</span>—"<span class="sc">Sir</span>,—I occasionally come +across allusions to '<i>Groves of Blarney</i>.' Which Groves was this? There +was a celebrated fishmonger known as '<i>Groves of Bond Street</i>;' is +Groves of Blarney an Irish branch of that family?"</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph3">ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</p> + +<p class="center">EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</p> + +<p><i>House of Commons, Monday, July 1.</i>—Presto! Quick transformation scene +effected to-day. Conservatives to the right; Liberals to the left. +Stupendous, far-reaching change; one of those rarely happy events that +please everyone. Hearing what people say, it is difficult to decide +which the more pleased, Liberals at being turned out, or Conservatives +at springing in. On Ministerial side happiness marred in individual +cases by being left out of the Ministry.</p> + +<p>"I'm getting up in years now, <span class="sc">Toby</span>," said <span class="sc">The +Markiss</span>, "and I've had pretty long experience in making up +Ministries. But I assure you I've been staggered during last week, +including in special degree the last hour. The more offices assigned, +the narrower becomes the basis of operation, and the more desperate +the rush of the attacking party. You'd be surprised if you saw the +list of men who have asked me for something. As a rule they don't put +it in that general way. They know precisely what they want, and are +not bashful in giving it a name, though they usually end up by saying +that if this particular post is disposed of, anything else will do. +In fact, like the cabman and the coy fare, they leave it to me. I am, +as you know, of placid temperament, inclined to take genial views of +my fellow-man. But I declare, if the process of forming a Ministry +under my direction were extended beyond a fortnight, I should become a +confirmed cynic."</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Parties change sides.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—"<i>Quel jour pour le bon Joé!</i>" said my Friend, dropping +with easy grace into the French of Alderney-atte-Sark.</p> + +<p>House full, considering the nearness of Dissolution. Members anxious +above all things to meet their constituents. Grudge every hour that +holds them from their embrace. Still, it is well upon occasion to +practise self-denial. Ten days or even a fortnight with constituents +during progress of contest inevitable. Just as well not to anticipate. +So House crowded to see <span class="sc">Prince Arthur</span> return. Slight flush +on his cheek as with swinging stride he comes to take up sceptre +<span class="sc">Peel</span> once held, that <span class="sc">Dizzy</span> deftly wielded, that +<span class="sc">Gladstone</span> of late laid down. After him, second only to +him, <span class="sc">Joseph</span>—<span class="sc">Joseph</span> in his very best summer +suit, appropriate to occasion when sun shines most brightly. Then +<span class="sc">Jokim</span>, who has descended to frivolity of white waistcoat, +which casts ghastly pallor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> over festive scene. Last of all, type in +these days of stern, unbending Toryism, <span class="sc">Michael Hicks-Beach</span>.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 850px;"> +<a href="images/024afull.jpg"> + +<img src="images/024.jpg" width="850" height="378" alt="LEFT OUT" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="center">LEFT OUT! (A Study of several +Distinguished Persons, who are unable to appreciate the charms of +"Coalition"!)</p></div> +</div> + + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 191px;"> +<a href="images/024bfull.jpg"> + +<img src="images/024b.jpg" width="191" height="500" alt="Virtue Rewarded" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="center">Virtue Rewarded! The new Secretary of the Treasury, Mr. +H-nb-ry.</p></div> +</div> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Beach</span>," said <span class="sc">Sark</span>, coming back to the English +tongue, "has never either manœuvred or wobbled. He is of the +very flower of English political squirearchy. He has principles and +convictions, and he sticks to them. So, when a Conservative Ministry +arrives, he walks in last, and, on the Treasury Bench, takes any seat +others may not have appropriated. Consider these things, <span class="sc">Toby</span>, +my boy. If you're bringing up any pups to a political career, the +study may be useful to you and them." <span class="sc">Private Hanbury</span> got +his stripes. After pegging away for years at Treasury, <span class="sc">Prince +Arthur</span> now put him on to repel attacks. Will do it well too. An +admirable appointment. Sad thing about it is, that it breaks up a +cherished companionship; parts friends by the height and width and back +of Treasury Bench.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Ministers sworn in.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday.</i>—Notable change come over <span class="sc">Boltonparty</span> in the last +few days. Unmistakable Retreat-from-Moscow look about him. When Liberal +Government went out and <span class="sc">Joseph</span> handed <span class="sc">The Markiss</span> to +the front, <span class="sc">Boltonparty</span> beamed with large content. The Sun of +Austerlitz shone once more.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 388px;"> +<a href="images/024cfull.jpg"> + +<img src="images/024c.jpg" width="288" height="350" alt="Toby runs down to his Constituency" /></a> +<div class="caption"><p class="center">Toby runs down to his Constituency.</p></div> +</div> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Joseph</span>," he said, folding his arms in historic fashion, +letting his massive chin rest on his manly chest, what time his noble +brow shone with the radiance of mighty thoughts, "<span class="sc">Joseph</span> +will never forget his early friend and ally. It's not as if at the +last General Election I stood under his flag, won a seat, and laid +it at his feet. I fought North St. Pancras as a Home-Ruler, captured +it, and before new Parliament was many months old, went over to other +side, making early rift in lute of <span class="sc">Gladstone's</span> majority. Some +men in such circumstances would have gone back to their constituency +and said, 'Dear boys, there's a mistake somewhere. You elected me on +a particular understanding. Since then I have taken another view of +the situation and of my duty. So I come back, return the trust you +placed in my hand, and give you opportunity of electing me again, or +choosing another man.' That might have led to inconvenience. Wouldn't +run any risk; so kept my seat, and voted steadily with <span class="sc">Joseph</span>. +Suppose they won't put me in the Cabinet right off? But I shall have +choice of first-class Under-Secretaryship. Shall it be War, Navy, or +Home Department? Any one excellent; but obviously I must go to the War +Office. Don't know whether there's any particular uniform for Financial +Secretary. If not, could soon knock one up from old portrait of the +Emperor."</p> + + + +<p>Day after day <span class="sc">Boltonparty</span> stayed at home, expecting every +hour to be sent for. Nothing came till Wednesday morning's papers +arrived, with, the news that son <span class="sc">Austen</span> was Secretary to +the Admiralty, <span class="sc">Jesse Collings</span> was installed at the Home +Office, and <span class="sc">Powell Williams</span>—who never set a squadron +in the field, and didn't in any respect resemble the Emperor +<span class="sc">Napoleon</span>—was Financial Secretary to the War Office! "That's +bad enough, <span class="sc">Toby</span>," said <span class="sc">Boltonparty</span>, filing away an +iron tear that coursed down his steel-grey cheek. "But there's worse +behind. What do you think <span class="sc">Joseph</span> did when he heard I wasn't +all together pleased? He offered me a statue! Said he'd no doubt +<span class="sc">Akers-Douglas</span> could pick up on reasonable terms an old statue +of <span class="sc">Napoleon</span>; with a little touching up it would serve, and +there was a place ready on the site proposed for <span class="sc">Cromwell's</span>. +There was, he said, well-known picture of <span class="sc">Napoleon</span> Crossing +the Alps. Why shouldn't there be a statue of <span class="sc">Boltonparty</span> +Crossing Marylebone Road, North Pancras? This is man's gratitude! I've +been cruelly Elba'd on one side, and nothing remains for me now but St. +Helena."</p> + + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—All.</p> + +<p><i>Saturday.</i>—Prorogation to-day, with usual imposing ceremony. On +Monday, Dissolution. Off to the country. Of course no one opposes me in +Barks. But must do the civil thing by my constituents.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">FOOTNOTE</p> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> A fact. July 6. Mr. <i>Punch's</i> Representative was taken +round twice—the second time against his will—in company with an +indignant shareholder and several impatient, yet sorrowful, passengers, +who complained of missing appointments, &c., in consequence of their +"extra" turn.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +109, July 13, 1895, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 44660-h.htm or 44660-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/6/6/44660/ + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 109, July 13, 1895 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis Burnand + +Release Date: January 14, 2014 [EBook #44660] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 109. + +JULY 13, 1895. + + + + +OPERATIC NOTES. + +_Monday._--Quite new Opera, _Faust_. Some people say they've heard it +before. Others add, "Yes, and more than once this season." Unwritten +law in _Codex Druriolanum_ is "You can't have too much of a good +thing." There are a hundred different ways of dressing chicken; so +with _Faust_. This time _Faust_ comes and is _Faust_ served with +_Sauce Marguerite a l'Emma Eames_. Uncommonly good. _Faust lui-meme a +l'Alvarez_ goes down uncommonly well. _Mefisto-Plancon Sauce au bon +diable_, a little overdone, perhaps, but decidedly a popular dish. +Baton of BEVIGNANI keeps all the ingredients well stirred up. +House full. + +[Illustration] + +_Tuesday._--_Carmen._ Madame BELLINCIONI and Signor +ANCONA going strong. Capital house, spite of shadow of +dissolution being over us all. + +_Wednesday._--_Nozze di Figaro_, with EMMA EAMES as Countess, +singing charmingly, and looking like portrait of Court Beauty by Sir +PETER LELY. _Maurel-Almaviva_ all right for voice, but not up +to his Countess in aristocratic appearance. However, this is in keeping +with character of nobleman whose most intimate friend is his barber, +and who makes love to the barber's _fiancee_, who is also his wife's +_femme de chambre_. + + * * * * * + +ROUNDABOUT READINGS. + +At the Oxford and Cambridge Athletic Sports on Wednesday last, great +surprise was expressed at the defeat of the hitherto invincible Mr. +C. B. FRY by Mr. MENDELSON in the Long Jump. Mr. +MENDELSON, who comes to us from New Zealand, has not only done +a fine performance, but he has also jumped into fame. It is at any rate +obvious that it is quite impossible for him to represent his University +in the High Jump, for + + With a musical name (though he varies the spelling), + This youth from New Zealand is bound to go far. + He couldn't jump high, since (it's truth I am telling) + No master of music e'er misses a bar. + + * * * * * + +The Long Jump, snatched like a brand from the burning, practically gave +the victory in the whole contest to Cambridge, who also won the Weight, +the Mile, the Three Miles and the Quarter. + + The Light Blues triumphed, fortune being shifty; + They cheered FITZHERBERT sprinting home in fifty. + For strength the weight-man's parents have a hot son, + Witness the put of youthful Mr. WATSON. + LUTYENS, who always pleases as he goes, + Romped in, his glasses poised upon his nose. + And none that day with greater dash and go ran + Than the Light Blue three-miler, Mr. HORAN. + + * * * * * + +During the practice of the crews for Henley Regatta there has been one +exalted contest, which I cannot remember hearing of in former years. +My _Sporting Life_ (of which I am a diligent and a constant reader) +informed me that "at one time it did seem as though Jupiter Pluvius was +about to swamp Old Boreas, but the latter proved too tough." Quite a +sporting event, evidently. Why, oh why, was not Old Boreas present when +Pelion was piled upon Ossa? The whole course of (pre) history might +have been changed. + + * * * * * + +A Newcastle contemporary has been discussing the art of adding to +the beauty of women by the use of cosmetics, &c. May I commend the +following extract to the notice of the ladies of England? + + "No woman is capable of being beautiful who is capable of being false. + The true art of assisting beauty consists in embellishing the whole + person by the ornaments of virtuous and commendable qualities. How + much nobler is the contemplation of beauty when it is heightened + by virtue! How faint and spiritless are the charms of a coquette, + when compared with the loveliness of innocence, piety, good-humour, + and truth--virtues which add a new softness to their sex, and even + beautify their beauty! That agreeableness possessed by the modest + virgin is now preserved in the tender mother, the prudent friend, and + the faithful wife. Colours artfully spread upon canvas may entertain + the eye, but not touch the heart; and she who takes no care to add + to the natural graces of her person, noble qualities, may amuse as a + picture, but not triumph as a beauty." + + * * * * * + +Cheltenham is a pleasant place. I quote from a memory which is, I know, +miserably defective: + + Year by year do England's daughters + In the fairest gloves and shawls + Troop to drink the Cheltenham waters, + And adorn the Cheltenham balls. + +This is not the place that one would naturally associate with violent +language over so small a matter as the rejection of some plans. A +quarrel, however, has taken place in the Town Council, and terrible +words have been spoken:-- + + "In the course of a discussion on the rejection of some plans, Mr. + MARGRETT accused the acting chairman of the Streets Committee + (Mr. PARSONAGE) with being influenced by personal and + political motives against the person (Mr. BARNFIELD) who + sent them in. Mr. PARSONAGE warmly retorted with the lie + direct, and told Mr. MARGRETT that he knew he was lying. Mr. + LENTHALL accused Mr. PARSONAGE of being 'slip-shod' + in his method of bringing up the minutes of the Streets Committee, + because he had passed over without comment a dispute between the + Corporation and the Board of Guardians. While denying this imputation, + Mr. PARSONAGE said he would even prefer to be 'slip-shod' + than to follow Mr. LENTHALL'S example of giving utterance to + a long-winded and frothy oration over such a trumpery matter as a road + fence." + +After this I quite expected to read that some one-- + + ... raised a point of order, when + A chunk of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen, + And he smiled a sort of sickly smile and curled upon the floor! + And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more. + +But the matter seems to have dropped, and everything to have ended +peacefully--a great and bitter disappointment to all lovers of ructions. + + * * * * * + +Even in aquatic matters Ireland is a country of surprises. In the +Eight-oared race the other day for the "Pembroke Cup," there was a +dead-heat between the Shandon Boat Club and the Dublin University +Boat Club. In the row-off, the _Irish Independent_ says that "Boat +Club caught the water first, but after a few strokes Shandon forged +in front. After the mile mark, Shandon were rowing eighteen against +the Boat Club's nineteen or twenty. In the next three hundred yards +Boat Club dropped to seventeen, the others being steady at nineteen +all through. About one hundred and fifty yards off the fishery step +the Boat Club quickened up to forty and got within two feet of their +opponents. Then, amid the greatest excitement, Boat Club got in front +and won by a canvas." A stroke oar who can row a race at nineteen to +the minute all through is steadier but certainly less versatile than +one who can spring suddenly from the rate of seventeen to the rate +of forty. As admirable as either is the genius of the reporter who +describes the event. + + * * * * * + +Mr. H. M. HYNDMAN is the Socialist candidate for Burnley. He +advocates "the immediate nationalisation and socialisation of railways, +mines, factories, and the land, with a view to establishing organised +co-operation for production and distribution in every department under +the control of the entire community. There should be a minimum wage +of thirty shillings a week in all State and Municipal employment, as +well as in State-created monopolies." There's a modest and practical +programme for you! But this windy gentleman's opponents may reply +that they prefer the system of each for himself, and d----l take the +HYNDMAN, to all the verbiage of the Socialist froth-pot. + + * * * * * + +Many reasons have been given for the fall of the late Government. It +has been left to a correspondent of the _Birmingham Daily Post_ to +discover the real and only one. "It is most unfair," he says, "to hold +them entirely responsible for all the shortcomings, blunders, and +failures which distorted their administration. How could they help +these things? Has it never occurred to you that the Government of Lord +ROSEBERY was the '13th' Parliament of Queen VICTORIA? +Can anybody reasonably expect good government from a 13th Parliament? +It is out of all question." What _persiflage_, what wit! + + * * * * * + +I sorrow over the new town clock of Dalkey. In my _Freeman's Journal_ I +read that, at the monthly meeting of the Dalkey Township Commissioners, +a letter was read from Messrs. CHANCELLOR AND SONS, stating +that the new town clock could not be made to strike, but they could +make a new clock for L100. The letter was marked read--and no wonder. +If it can't strike, it had better be wound up, and Dalkey is obviously +the place to wind it. Otherwise there seems no reason in the Township's +name. + + * * * * * + +Clevedon is, I believe, in Somerset. Anyone in search of a sensation +ought to have gone there last week, for it is stated that "Mr. +VICTOR ROSINI'S Spectral Opera Company commenced a week's +engagement at the Public Hall on Monday evening." I cannot imagine +a spectral _basso_ or _tenore robusto_. And in any case, why should +the unfortunate operatic spectres be harried into giving public +performances? + + * * * * * + +MUSICAL HONOURS!!--The friends of Sir HENRY JAMES, Q.C., +M.P., will celebrate his being raised to the peerage by serenading +with "_The Aylestone Chorus_." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "VIVA L'ITALIA!" + +_Admiral Punch_ (_to Italia on the occasion of her Fleet visiting +England_). "WELCOME, _mia Bella_, to you and your splendid Ships! I +come of an old Italian Family myself!"] + + * * * * * + +HER PREVIOUS SWEETHEART. + +_Wednesday._--Violet has accepted me, this very day, the happiest of +my life. She is the sweetest and prettiest woman in the world. I have +loved her long and passionately. She has not loved me long, and she +could never love me passionately. She is rather unemotional. Even when +I kissed her this afternoon for the first time she was quite calm. She +tells me she has once loved, as though she could never love again. Her +previous sweetheart was a Captain. I am a mere writer. His name was +PERCY PLANTAGENET CHOLMONDELEY. Mine is JONES. I hope +that in time she may forget him. + +_Thursday._--Meet her in the Row, and sit under the trees. She is fond +of horses. So am I, but I do not ride often. She mentions that Captain +CHOLMONDELEY was a splendid rider. Listen patiently to what +she tells me. + +_Friday._--To the Opera with VIOLET and her people. She +does not care for GOUNOD'S _Faust_. Prefers a burlesque +with comic songs. Says the Captain sang comic songs admirably, with +banjo accompaniment. When it's well done, I also like that. Tell +her so. This encourages her to further reminiscences. Of course, +she is right to conceal nothing from me now we are engaged, but +frankness, even engaging frankness, may be carried too far. Manage +to change the subject at last, and then unfortunately the Soldier's +Chorus reminds her of a parody in an amateur burlesque which Captain +CHOLMONDELEY----and so on. + +_Saturday._--Meet her at Hurlingham. She is so fond of polo. She says +the Captain was a splendid player. I expected that. A sort of Champion +of the World. Of course. I never played in my life. Listen to an +account of his exploits. Rather bored. + +_Sunday._--Up the river. Very hot day. Delightful to lounge in the +shade and smoke. VIOLET more energetic. Compels me to exert +myself. She says the Captain could do anything in a boat. No doubt. I +am prepared to hear that he shot the Falls of Niagara in a punt. He was +a wonderful genius. I am tired of hearing of him. + +_Monday._--To Mr. MONTGOMERY-MUMBY'S dance. VIOLET +there of course. We both like dancing. Get on charmingly together. +Suddenly something reminds her of the ever-lamented Captain P. P. C. +I suggest that he has said good-bye to her for ever, as his initials +show. She does not see the little joke. Have to explain it to her. Then +she says it is a very poor joke. No doubt it is, but she needn't tell +me so. Annoying. A certain coolness between us. + +_Tuesday._--To the French play with VIOLET and her aunt. +She understands French very well. Seems to think a lot of me +because I know something of several languages. Ask her if Captain +CHOLMONDELEY was fond of learning languages. Am prepared to +hear that he was a second MEZZOFANTI. On the contrary, it +seems that he couldn't speak a word of anything but English, and that +he didn't speak very much that was worth hearing even in that. The only +French he could understand was in a _menu_. Apparently he never read +anything else in any language, except the sporting papers in English. +Have at last found something he could not do. Delighted. Unfortunately +show this. VIOLET begins to defend him. I say he must have +been rather a duffer. She retorts that I can't play polo. What has that +to do with it? Again a coolness between us. + +_Wednesday._--It is all over! We have parted for ever. She could never +forget that confounded Captain. Asked her this morning, when she was +telling me of his shooting elephants, or alligators, or rabbits, or +sparrows, or something wonderful, why she did not marry him. She says +it was broken off. She shows me his last letter of farewell. I read +it critically. It is very short. Point out to her nine mistakes in +spelling, and four in grammar. She says I am brutal. Indignation. +Argument. Scorn. Tears. Farewell. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: SO THAT DOESN'T COUNT. + +"Are you sure they're quite Fresh?" "Wot a Question to arst! Can't +yer see they're Alive?" "Yes; but _you_'re _Alive_, you know!"] + + * * * * * + +GREAT WHEEL GOSSIP. + +Are you quite sure that it is safe? + +Well, there have been all sorts of stories about this sort of thing, +but I don't believe it. The PRINCE went, you know. + +Oh, yes, of course. Then that's all right. Now we are off. How +interesting! We can see the tops of the houses! But what are we waiting +for? + +Oh, for other passengers to get into the cars. How long does it take? + +About three-quarters of an hour. Well, now we are off again. + +Why, there is a mist, and we can't see anything. + +Oh, yes, we can. Why, that must be either Kensington Gardens, Hyde Park +Corner, or Battersea Park. + +Don't think there is much in it. And why are we stopping? + +People getting in and out. Well, now we have had thirty-five minutes of +it, I shall be glad to be home. + +Oh, here we are. Now we can get out. Come, that is nice! + +No, we can't! _We have missed the landing, and have to go round +again._[1] + +After two journeys I think the best way of thoroughly enjoying the +Wheel is to sit fast, close your eyes, and think of something else! + +[1] A fact. July 6. Mr. _Punch's_ Representative was taken +round twice--the second time against his will--in company with an +indignant shareholder and several impatient, yet sorrowful, passengers, +who complained of missing appointments, &c., in consequence of their +"extra" turn.] + + * * * * * + +IN THE EARL'S COURT INDIA. + +IN BOMBAY STREET, INDIAN CITY. TIME--ABOUT EIGHT P.M. + +_A Matron_ (_to her friend, as they approach the natives at work_). +Everything seems for sale here, my dear. _Just_ the place to get a +nice wedding-present for dear EMILY. I want to give her +_something_ Indian, as she will be going out there so soon. What +are they doing in here? oh, glass-blowing!... See, JANE, +this one is making glass bangles.... Well, no, EMILY would +think it _rather_ shabby if I gave her a pair of those. I might get +one apiece for Cook and PHOEBE--servants are always so +grateful for any little attention of that sort--though I shouldn't +like to encourage a taste for finery; well, it will do very well when +we come back.... Perhaps one of those brass dinner-gongs--there's a +large one, I see, marked seven-and-sixpence--but I'd rather give her +something _quieter_--something she'd value for its _own_ sake.... Now +one of those chased silver bowls--twenty-five-and-nine-pence? Well, +it seems a little----and though I was always very fond of her mother, +EMILY was never----I must _think_ over it.... She might like a +set of beetle-wing mats--only they're not likely to entertain much.... +How would one of these embroidered tablecloths--eh? oh, I'm sure I've +seen them much cheaper at LIBERTY'S; and besides----(_After +a prolonged inspection of various articles at various stalls._) After +all, I shall be going to Tunbridge Wells next week. I think I'll wait. +I might see something there I liked _better_, you know! + +[Illustration: "Stands smiling feebly"] + +_A Wife_ (_to her husband, who is examining the stock of a native +shoemaker with interest_). No, CHARLES. I put up with a _great +deal_ for the sake of your society of an evening; but if you imagine I +am going to have you sitting opposite me with your feet in a pair of +slippers separated into two horrid toes, you make a great mistake! Put +the dreadful things down and come away. + +_Mr. McPairtan_ (_from the North, to his small nephew_). Eh, +ROBBIE, my man, I'm thinking your mither wouldna' just +approve o' my takkin' ye to sic a perfairmance as yon Burrmese +dancing-women.... Nay, nay, laddie, there's deceitfulness eneugh in +the naitural man withoot needing to lairn ony mair o't fro' these +puir juggling Indian bodies wi' their snake-chairmin' an' sic godless +doins!... Ride on the elephant? Havers! Ye can do that fine in the +Zooloagical Gairdens.... 'Twould be just sinful extrawvagance in me to +be throwing away guid siller wi' so mony bonny sichts to be seen for +naething. + +_Mr. Gourmay_ (_who is dying for his dinner, to his pretty cousins, who +cannot be got past the Indian craftsmen_). Yes, yes, very interesting, +and all that; but we can see it just as well if we come back _later_, +you know. + +_His Cousin Belle._ But they may have stopped by then. I _must_ just +see him finish the pattern; it's too _fascinating!_ + +_Mr. Gourm._ I--er--don't want to _hurry_ you, you know, only, you see, +if we don't look sharp, we shan't be in time to secure an outside table +at the Restaurant. Much jollier dining in the open air. + +_His Cousin Imogen._ Oh, it's too hot to _think_ of food. I'm not in +the _least_ hungry--are _you_, Belle? + +_Belle._ No; I'd ever so much rather see the Burmese dancers and the +Indian conjurors. I don't want to waste the best part of the evening +over dinner; we might have some of that nice Indian tea and a piece of +cake by-and-by, perhaps, if there's time. + + [_Speechless delight of_ Mr. GOURMAY. + +_Energetic Leader_ (_to his party, who are faint, but pursuing_). No, +there's nothing particular to see here. I tell you what _my_ plan is. +We'll go and do the Kinetoscopes and the Phonographs, have a look at +the Great Wheel, and some shots at the Rifle Range, cross over and +take a turn on the Switchback, finish up with a cold-meat supper at +SPIERS AND POND'S, and a stroll round the band-stand, and, by +the time we've done, we shall have got a very fair idea of what India's +_like!_ + +_First Relative_ (_to Second_). What's become of Aunt JOANNA? +I thought she was going on one of the elephants. + +_Second Relative._ She would have it none of 'em looked strong enough +for her. And what _do_ you think she goes and does next? Tries to +bargain with a black man to take her for a turn on one o' them little +bullock-carts! I really hadn't the patience to stop and see what come +of it. + +_Miss Rashleigh_ (_by the Burmese Cheroot Stall, audibly, to her +companion_). Just look at this girl, my dear, with a great cigar in +her mouth! Fancy their being New Women in Burmah! And such a _hideous_ +creature, too! + +_Her Companion._ Take care, my dear, she'll hear you. I expect she +understands English. + +_Miss Rashleigh_ (_with ready tact and resourcefulness_). Then let's +tell her how pretty she is! + +IN THE INDIAN JUNGLE. + +_Mr. Moul_ (_to_ Mrs. MOUL, _as they halt before a darkened +interior representing a coolie sleeping in an Indian hut, which a +leopard is stealthily entering_). Ah, now I do call that something +_like!_ Lovely! _ain't_ it? + +_Mrs. Moul._ It's beautiful. 'Ow ever they can _do_ it all! (_After a +pause_.) Why, I do believe there's a _animal_ of some sort up at the +further end! Can you see him, SAMSON? + +_Mr. Moul._ A animal! where? Ah, I can make out somethink now. (_With +pleased surprise._) And look--there's a man layin' down right in +front--do you see? + +_Mrs. Moul._ Well, I never! so there is! To think o' _that_ now. They +_'ave_ got it up nice, I will say that. + + [_They pass out, pleased with their own powers of observation._ + +IN THE INDIAN THEATRE. + +_Hindu Magician_ (_as he squats on the stage and takes out serpents +from flat baskets_). Here is a sna-ake--no bite--Bombay cobra, verri +good cobra. (_Introducing them formally to audience._) Dis beeg +cobra, dis smahl cobra. (_One of them erects its hood and strikes at +his foot,_ _which he withdraws promptly._) No bite, verri moch nice +sna-ake. (_He plays a tune to them; one listens coldly and critically, +the others slither rapidly towards the edge of the platform, to the +discomposure of spectators in the front row; the_ Magician _recaptures +them by the tail at the critical moment, ties them round his neck and +arms, and then puts them away, like toys._) Here I have shtone; verri +good Inglis shtone. I hold so. (_Closing it in his fist._) Go away, +shtone. Go to Chicago, Leeverpool, Hamburg. (_Opening fist._) Shtone +no dere. I shut again. (_Opening fist._) One, two, Inglis shillin's. +(_Singling out a_ Spectator.) You, Sar, come up here queeck. Comonn! + +_The Spectator._ Not me! Not among all them snakes you've got +there--don't you think it! + +_The Magician and a Tom-tom player_ (_together_). Verri nice +sna-akes--no bite. Comonn, help play. + +_Angelina_ (_to_ EDWIN, _as the invitation is coyly but firmly +declined_). EDWIN, do go up and help the man--to please _me_. +And if you find him out in cheating, you can expose him, you know. + + [EDWIN _clambers up and stands, smiling feebly, at the_ + Magician's _side amidst general applause_. + +_The Magician_ (_to_ EDWIN). Sit down, sit down, sit down. Now +you count--how menni sillings? Dere is seeks. + +_Edwin_ (_determined not to be taken in_). Four, you mean. + +_The Magician._ I tell you seeks. Count after me--One, tree, five, +seeks. Shtill onli four, you say? Shut dem in your hand--so. Now blow. +(EDWIN _puffs at his fist_.) Open your hand, and count. One, +two, tree, four, five, seeks, summon, ight, nine, tin, like, vise! Dis +Inglisman make money verri moch nice; verri goot Inglisman. Put dem in +your hand again, and shut. Hublo! Now open. + + [EDWIN _opens his fist, to discover in it two small and + extremely active serpents, which he rejects in startled dismay_. + +_Angelina_ (_to herself_). How _nasty_ of EDWIN! He _must_ +have felt them inside. + +_The Magician_ (_to_ EDWIN). Verri nice sna-akes; but where +is my monni? (EDWIN _shakes his head helplessly_.) Ah, dis +Inglisman too moch plenti cheat. (_He seizes_ EDWIN'S _nose, +from which he extracts a shower of shillings_.) Aha! Verri goot Inglis +nose--hold plenty monni! + +_Angelina_ (_as_ EDWIN _returns to her in triumph_). No; +_please_ turn your head away, EDWIN. I can't _look_ at your +nose without thinking of those horrid shillings; and oh, are you +_quite_ sure you haven't got any of those horrid snakes up your sleeve? +I do _wish_ you hadn't gone! + + [_So does_ EDWIN. + +_A Serious Old Lady_ (_as the_ Magician _produces from his throat +several yards of coloured yarn, a small china doll, about a gross of +tenpenny nails, and a couple of eggs_). Clever, my dear? I daresay; +but it seems to me a pity that a man who has been given such talents +shouldn't turn them to better account! + + * * * * * + +ELECTION INTELLIGENCE. + +_Brybury-on-the-Pocket._--Both candidates very busy. Meetings are +being held all day long at the principal hotels, and any number of +livery-stable-keepers have promised to lend their carriages on the +day of election. The agents on either side have an enormous staff of +assistants, and trade was never known to be brisker during the present +century. + +_Crowncrushington._--This will be a very near contest. As political +feeling runs rather high, a number of extra beds have been prepared in +the hospitals. The police have been reinforced, and the military are +close at hand, and every other preparation has been made to secure the +declaration of the poll with as little friction as possible. + +_Meddle-cum-Muddleborough._--At present there are seven candidates, +but as three of these have issued their manifestoes under some +misapprehension it is not unlikely that the number will be reduced +before the day of nomination. It is not easy to foretell the result, as +since the establishment of the ballot every election has ended not only +in surprise but stupefaction. + +_Selfseekington._--It is not unlikely that there will be no contest +in this important borough. The (until recently) sitting member has +fixed the day that would naturally have fallen to the function of the +returning officer for the laying of the foundation stones of his Baths, +Wash-houses, Free Library and Town Hall, and the opening of his Public +Park. + +_Wrottenborough._--The popular candidate has pledged himself to +supporting Local Veto, the Licensed Victuallers, Establishment, +Disestablishment, Home Rule, the Integrity of the Empire, +Anti-Vaccination, the Freedom of the Medical Profession, and many other +matters of conflicting importance. The polling will be of a perfunctory +character, as expenses are being cut down on both sides. + +_Zany-town-on-the-Snooze._--There will be no contest in this division. +At present there is no intelligence of any sort to chronicle. + + * * * * * + +TAG FOR THE TESTIMONIAL.--"The power of GRACE, the +magic of a name." + + * * * * * + +DALY NEWS, AND DRAMATIC NOTES. + +Ere these lines can appear, the _Two Gentlemen of Verona_ and their +two Ladies will have vanished from Daly's Theatre like the baseless +fabric of a dream, leaving, however, a very pleasant recollection of +the play in the minds of all who saw it--and a great many did, for +SHAKSPEARE'S _Two Gents_ is a dramatic curiosity. Prettily +put on the stage as it was, with good music, picturesque costumes +and clever acting, it will dwell in our memories as an exceptionally +attractive revival. + +Mr. GEORGE CLARKE, the "stern parient," appeared as something +between a Doge and a Duke, and equally good as either, you bet; that +is, "'lowing," as _Uncle Remus_ has it, that either Doge or Duke +has passed the greater part of his life in the United States. Mr. +FRANK WORTHING (nice seasidey name on a hot night in town) +a gentlemanly-villainous _Proteus_, and Mr. JOHN CRAIG an +equally gentlemanly-virtuous _Valentine_. So "Gents both" are disposed +of. Mr. _James Lewis_, as _Launce_, playing "the lead" to his dog, put +into the part new humour in place of the old which has evaporated by +fluxion of time. _Launce's_ sly dog, very original; part considerably +curtailed. + +[Illustration: The Duke discovers the rope-ladder under Valentine's +cloak. + +"The Rope Trick exposed."] + +I see that a descendant of TYRONE POWER appears as "Mine +Host." I did not gather from his costume that he was "a host in +himself," but thought he was a Venetian Judge or retired Doge; the +latter surmise receiving some confirmation from the fact that, while +the singing was going on, he, being somnolent, "doge'd" (as _Mrs. +Gamp_ would say) in his chair. Sleeping or waking his was a dignified +performance. Miss ELLIOT a graceful _Sylvia_, who, as a +Milanese brunette, is artistically contrasted with Miss ADA +REHAN, of Florentine fairness, as _Julia_. All that is wanting +to this sketchy character Miss REHAN fills in, and makes the +design a finished picture. Improbable that _Proteus_ should never +recognize _Julia_ when disguised as a boy until she herself reveals her +identity. However, it was a very early work of WILLIAM'S: mere +child's play. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: Miss Rehan as Julia. + +"The Third Page in her Life."] + + * * * * * + +The most Clement of critics, our learned and ever amiable Scotus of +the _Daily Telegraph_, speaking with authority from his column last +Saturday, recalls to us how many English actors and actresses have +successfully played in French on the Parisian stage, and adds to the +list the name of MARIE HALTON, who, excellent both in singing +and acting as _La Cigale_ at the Lyric, will soon appear at a new +theatre in Paris, where she is to "create" French _roles_--which, +Mlle. MARIE, is a very pleasant way of making your bread. But +if we have in this actress an English _Chaumont_, why does not some +such astute manager as Mr. EDWARDES, the Universal Theatre +Provider, induce HALTON to Stay on--here, not only for her own +"benefit," but for that of the Light Opera-loving public. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: TRUE HYPERBOLE. + +_He._ "What a lovely Frock!... _Worth_, I suppose?" _She._ +"MONSIEUR WORTH IS DEAD." + +_He._ "Ah! it _looks_ as if it came from Heaven!"] + + * * * * * + +THE OLD CHIEFTAIN'S FAREWELL. + + ["The impending Dissolution brings into its practical and final + form the prospective farewell which I addressed last year to the + constituency of Midlothian."--_Mr. Gladstone's Farewell Letter to the + Electors of Midlothian._] + +AIR--_Burns's "The Farewell."_ + + It was a' for our Glorious Cause + I sought fair Scotland's strand; + It was a' for fair, rightfu' laws + To bless the Irish land, + My dear; + To bless the Irish land. + + Now a' is done that man could do, + And a' seems done in vain, + My loved Midlothian, farewell, + I mauna stand again, + My dear; + I canna stand again. + + For fifteen lang an' happy years, + That ne'er may be forgot, + We have foregathered, loved, and fought. + Fare farther I may not, + My dear; + Fare farther may I not. + + Yet say not that our love has failed, + Or that our battle's lost; + Were I yet young I'd fight again, + And never count the cost, + My dear; + And never count the cost. + + Tegither we've won mony a fight, + You following where I led; + But now late Winter's chilling snows + Are gatherin' round my head, + My dear; + Are gatherin' round my head. + + And times will change, and Chieftains pass. + Lang time I've borne the brunt + Of war; and now I'm glad to see + CARMICHAEL to the front, + My dear; + Sir TAMMY to the front. + + A champion stout, I mak nae doubt, + He'll carry on my task. + To see ye braw and doing weel, + Henceforth is a' I ask. + My dear; + Henceforth is a' I ask. + + True Scot am I--Midlothian's heart + I won. Now I fare far, + And leave a younger chieftain, TAM, + To lead the Lowland war, + My dear; + To lead the Lowland war! + + * * * + + He turned him right and round about + Upon the Scottish shore. + He gae his bonnet plume a shake, + With "Adieu for evermore, + My dear; + Adieu for evermore! + + "ROSEBERY will from fight return, + Wi' loss or else wi' gain; + But I am parted from my love, + Never to meet again, + My dear; + Never to meet again. + + "When day is gone, and night is come, + A' folk are fain to rest; + I'll think on thee, though far awa', + While pulse throbs in this breast, + My dear; + While pulse throbs in my breast!" + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +SMITH, ELDER & CO. are carrying out a happy thought in +projecting what they call the Novel Series, a title which is the least +felicitous part of the business. It is designed to meet the views of +those who desire to possess, not to borrow (or indeed to steal) good +books. The volumes will not be too large to be carried in the pocket, +nor too small to lie on the shelf. Neatly bound, admirably printed, +they are to cost from two shillings up to four shillings, presumably +according to length and the inclusion of illustrations. The series +leads off with _The Story of Bessie Costrell_, by Mrs. HUMPHRY +WARD. The story, if not precisely pleasant, is decidedly powerful. +Once taken up, there is uncontrollable disposition to read on to the +end, a yearning the size of the volume makes it possible conveniently +to satisfy. The new series starts with a promise announcements of +succeeding contributions seem likely to fulfil. + + THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS. + + * * * * * + +New Carillon at the Royal Exchange. + +The tunes are admirably selected. First air every morning, "I know a +Bank," to be known as "The Morning Air." + +_For Panic Days._--"Oh dear, what can the matter be!" + +_Bad Business Days._--"Nae luck about 'the House.'" + +_Good Business._--"Here we go up, up, up!" + +_South African Market Chorus._--"Mine for Evermore!" + +This scheme of arrangement is to be generally known as "_The Bells' +Stratagem_." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "ARE YOU READY?" + +(S-L-SB-RY _and_ R-S-B-RY _starting the Bicyclist +Competitors_ B-LF-R _and_ H-RC-RT.)] + + * * * * * + +SCRAPS FROM CHAPS. + +A REAL UNCROWNED KING.--At a meeting of the Town Commissioners +of Kinsale, a report of the proceedings discloses a conversation of a +truly remarkable kind-- + + "The Chairman thought that if they paid Mr. PUNCH his + quarter's salary up to the 1st February they would be dealing very + fairly with him, especially as they had appointed his son as his + successor.... Messrs. KIELY and P. S. O'CONNOR + contended that as Mr. PUNCH was never dismissed by them, and + the non-performance of his duties was through no fault of his own, he + was entitled to some remuneration." + +We should think he was, indeed! _Some_ remuneration, quotha? Does +not the mere fact that he bears a name honoured and revered in every +corner of the globe entitle him to a pension on the very highest +scale known to the L. G. B.? Not, we need hardly say, an "old age" +pension. Perpetual youth is the prerogative of all PUNCHES. +And they "have appointed his son as his successor." Well, of course! +How can a PUNCH do anything but succeed? He would be a rum +PUNCH if he didn't! Greetings to our distant kinsman of +Kinsale! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: MAKING ALLOWANCES. + +_The Little Minister._ "HOW WELL YOU'RE LOOKING, MAC-CULLUM!" + +_The Big Farmer._ "WEEL--I'M WEEL IN PAIRTS. BUT I'M OWER MUCKLE TO +BE WEEL ALL OWER AT AIN TIME!"] + + * * * * * + +ONE MAN, ONE TOPPER!--In the _Glasgow Herald_ somebody writes +as follows:-- + + "It is surely time Mr. DUNCAN saw to his bus-drivers' hats! + Such a miscellaneous collection of seedy hats, I think, could not be + found elsewhere; they are a positive disgrace to the city." + +The writer ought to have signed himself "MACBETH;" the +"unguarded DUNCAN," whoever he may be, must be on his guard, +or passengers will strike for better hats. All bus-drivers and +conductors should wear silk hats, to typify the habitual softness of +their address. Why not put them into livery at once? The company that +did that would probably attract no end of custom. No revolution like +it, since the abolition of the box-seat! Uniform charges and uniformed +conductors should be the future rule of the road. + + * * * * * + +"NOT KILT, BUT SPACHELESS."--At Clonakilty Sessions the other +day, the following evidence was given:-- + + "PATRICK FEEN was examined, and stated he resided at + Dunnycove, parish of Ardfield.... Gave defendant's brother a blow of + his open hand and knocked him down for fun, and out of friendship. + (_Laughter._)" + +What a good-natured, open-handed friend Mr. PATRICK FEEN must +be! JOHN HEGARTY, the person assaulted, corroborated the +account, and added,-- + + "When he was knocked down, he stopped there. (_Laughter._)" + +In fact, he "held the field," and "remained in possession of the +ground." Who will now say that the old humour is dying out in Erin? + + * * * * * + +OF DR. TRISTRAM (SHANDY) IN THE INCONSISTORY COURT.--"O +TRISTRAM! TRISTRAM! TRISTRAM!" * * "And pray which way is this +affair of TRISTRAM at length settled by these learned men?" + + _"Toby" to Yorick._ + + * * * * * + +What a nice dish for lunch would be what we find mentioned in the +Racing Order of the Day, _i.e._ "_Plate of 150 sous_." Excellent! To be +washed down with a draught of Guineas stout! + + * * * * * + +BRIGGS, OF BALLIOL. + +PART I. + +BRIGGS was the gayest dog in Balliol. If there was a bonfire +in the quad, and if the dons found their favourite chairs smouldering +in the ashes, BRIGGS was at the bottom of it. If the bulldogs +were led a five-mile chase at one o'clock in the morning, the gownless +figure that lured them on was BRIGGS. If the supper at +VINNIE'S became so uproarious that the Proctor thought it +necessary to interfere, the gentleman that dropped him from the +first-floor window was BRIGGS. Anyone else would have been +sent down over and over again, but--BRIGGS stroked the Balliol +boat: BRIGGS had his cricket blue; BRIGGS was a dead +certainty against Cambridge for the quarter and the hundred: in short, +BRIGGS was indispensable to the College and the 'Varsity, and +therefore he was allowed to stay. + +But what is this? A change has come over BRIGGS. He is another +man. Can it be----? Impossible--and yet? Yes, it began that very +night. Everyone has heard of Miss O'GRESS, the Pioneer. She +came up to Oxford to lecture; her subject was "Man: his Position and +_Raison d'etre_." BRIGGS and I went to hear; went in light +laughing mood with little fear of any consequences. We listened to +the O'GRESS. "There is no doubt," she said, "that Man was +intended by Nature to be the Father. For this high calling he should +endeavour to fit himself by every means in his power. He should +cultivate his body so as to render himself attractive to Woman. He +should be tall,"--her eye fell on BRIGGS--"he should be +handsome,"--still on BRIGGS--"he should be graceful, he +should be athletic."--At this point her eye seemed fairly to feast on +BRIGGS, and a curious lurid light lowered in it. She paused a +moment. I was sitting next to BRIGGS, and I felt a shiver run +through him. I looked at his face, and it was ghastly pale. I asked him +in a whisper if he felt faint? He impatiently motioned me to be silent, +and remained, as I thought, like a bird paralysed beneath the gaze of a +serpent. I heard no more, so anxious was I on my friend's account; nor +could I breathe with any freedom until the audience rose and we were +once again in the fresh air. + +The following day there was a garden-party at Trinity. BRIGGS +said he was playing for the 'Varsity against Lancashire, and therefore +could not go. Imagine my surprise then, when, as I was doing the polite +among the strawberries and cream, I caught sight of him slinking down +the lime grove at the heels of the O'GRESS. I rubbed my eyes +and looked again. Yes, it was BRIGGS indeed. The face was his; +the features were his; the figure was his; the clothes were his--but, +the buoyant step? the merry laugh? where, where, eh! where were they? + + * * * + +The Long Vac. passed, and we were all up again for Michaelmas Term. +There was a blank in our circle. "Where's BRIGGS?" asked +BROWN. "Where's BRIGGS?" asked TROTTER of +Trinity. We looked at one another. What! Nobody seen BRIGGS? +Not up yet?--Better go and see. We went to his rooms. No +BRIGGS there, and not a sign of his coming. We went to +JONES. JONES knew no more than we; to SMITH, +GREEN, ROBERTS--all equally ignorant. At last we +tried the Porter. What! hadn't we heard the news? News? No! What +news? The Porter's face grew long. Why, Mr. BRIGGS, 'e +weren't comin' up no more. Not coming up? Not coming up? Nonsense! +Impossible!--Fact, gentlemen, fact. The Master,'e'd 'ad a note from Mr. +BRIGGS, sayin' as 'ow 'e wouldn't be back agin. No one knew +nothink more than that. No one could explain it. + +There was despair in Balliol. What would become of us? Without +BRIGGS we could never catch B. N. C. Magdalen would bump +us to a certainty, and we could hardly hope to escape the House. +In football it would be just as bad. Keble and Exeter would simply +jump on us, and not a single Balliol man would have his blue. The +position was appalling; ruin stared us in the face; the College was in +consternation, for BRIGGS had disappeared. + + * * * * * + +NOTE BY A NATIONALIST. + + "Home Rule all Round!" That cry is in the air: + What Ireland wants, though, is Home Rule all _square_. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "IS YOUR SON IMPROVING IN HIS VIOLIN-PLAYING, MR. +JONES?" + +"WELL--EITHER HE'S IMPROVING, OR WE'RE GETTING USED TO IT!"] + + * * * * * + +Thomas Henry Huxley. + + BORN, MAY 4, 1825. DIED, JUNE 30, 1895. + + Another star of Science slips + Into the shadow of eclipse!-- + Yet no; the _light_ is nowise gone, + But burning still, and travelling on + The unborn future to illume, + And dissipate a distant gloom. + True man of Science he, yet more, + Master of metaphysic lore, + Lover of history and of art, + He played a multifarious part. + With clear head and incisive tongue + Dowered, on all he touched he flung + Those rarer charms of grace and wit. + Great learning may not always hit. + To his "liege lady Science" true, + He narrowed not a jealous view + To her alone, but found all life + With charm and ethic interest rife. + Knowing plain lore of germ and plant, + With dreams of HAMILTON and KANT, + All parts of the great human plan. + England in him has lost a Man. + The great Agnostic, clear, brave, true, + Taught more things, may be, than he deemed he knew. + + * * * * * + +Business. + +_Inquirer_ (_drawing up prospectus_). Shall I write "Company" with a +big C? + +_Honest Broker._ Certainly, if it's a sound one, as it represents +"Company" with a capital. + + * * * * * + +MR. BRIEFLESS, JUN., ON THE LONG VACATION. + +Unfortunately I was prevented, by an appointment of a semi-professional +character--I had been desired by a maiden aunt to give her my advice +upon a question, of damage arising out of a canine assault committed +by her lap-dog--from being present at the General Meeting of the Bar, +and consequently was unable to take part in the annual deliberations of +my learned and friendly colleagues. From what passed on the occasion +to which I refer, I gather that there was an inclination to call the +Benchers of the Inns of Court to account. It seems to me--and I believe +that I am right in the opinion--that, so long as our Masters worthily +represent the dignity of the profession, we Members of the Inner and +Outer Bar have no tangible cause for complaint. + +But I fancy the leading subject at the Forensic Congress was the Long +Vacation. Judging from the numerous letters that have reached me +from both branches of the profession, this is a matter of the first +importance to all of us. I have been asked by many of my learned and +friendly colleagues, and my nearly equally learned and even more +friendly clients, to give my opinion on the subject. One respected +correspondent who hails from Ely Place, writes, "How could you possibly +recover from the wear and tear of your arduous practice in Trinity +Term, had you not a part of August and nearly the whole of September +and October ready to hand for recuperation?" I quite agree with Sir +GEORGE--I should say, my respected correspondent--that as I +near "the long," I do feel the need of rest--nay, even considerable +rest. Then a learned friend who represents not only the Bar, but +chivalry in its forensic form, sends me a caricature of "DICKY +W." that would suggest that were the holidays to be decreased, +a wearer of a most distinguished order, and an athlete of no small +fame would be reduced to a condition of complete collapse. Once again, +an ornament to our Bench--perhaps the greatest ornament--honours me +with the suggestion that were we to lose a month of recreation, it +might sadden the terraces of Monte Carlo, and eclipse the merriment of +Newmarket Heath. It is needless to state that all these communications +have had weight with me. Still, I have deemed it desirable to approach +the subject with an open mind. It seems to me (and no doubt to many +others) that the question narrows itself into a matter of finance. I +have therefore taken PORTINGTON into my counsels, and examined +with unusual care the pages of my Fee Book. After much consultation +with my admirable and excellent clerk, and an exhaustive audit of +the figures of my forensic _honoraria_, I have come to the matured +conclusion that the lengthening or the shortening of the Long Vacation +does not affect me financially in the very least. + + (_Signed_) A. BRIEFLESS, JUNIOR. + + _Pump-handle Court, June 22, 1895._ + + * * * * * + +Football is to be played in all the schools and colleges of Russia. The +champion of the game is known as Prince KHIKOFF. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE FATE OF ROTTEN ROW.] + + * * * * * + +ON VIEW AT HENLEY. + +The most characteristic work of that important official, the clerk of +the weather. + +The young lady who has never been before, and wants to know the names +of the eights who compete for the Diamond Sculls. + +The enthusiastic boating man, who, however, prefers luncheon when the +hour arrives, to watching the most exciting race imaginable. + +The itinerant vendors of "coolers" and other delightful comestibles. + +The troupes of niggers selected and not quite select. + +The house-boat with decorations in odious taste, and company to match. + +The "perfect gentleman's rider" (from Paris) who remembers boating +at Asnieres thirty years ago, when JULES wore when rowing +lavender kid-gloves and high top-boots. + +The calm mathematician (from Berlin), who would prefer to see the races +represented by an equation. + +The cute Yankee (from New York), who is quite sure that some of the +losing crews have been "got at" while training. + +The guaranteed enclosure, with band, lunch and company of the same +quality. + +The "very best view of the river" from a dozen points of the compass. + +Neglected maidens, bored matrons, and odd men out. + +Quite the prettiest toilettes in the world. + +The Thames Conservancy in many branches. + +Launches: steam, electric, accommodating and the reverse. + +Men in flannels who don't boat, and men in tweeds who do. + +A vast multitude residential, and a vaster come per rail from town. + +Three glorious days of excellent racing, at once national and unique. + +An aquatic festival, a pattern to the world. + +And before all and above all, a contest free from all chicanery, and +the very embodiment of fairplay. + + * * * * * + +FROM A CORRESPONDENT.--"SIR,--I occasionally come +across allusions to '_Groves of Blarney_.' Which Groves was this? There +was a celebrated fishmonger known as '_Groves of Bond Street_;' is +Groves of Blarney an Irish branch of that family?" + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. + +_House of Commons, Monday, July 1._--Presto! Quick transformation scene +effected to-day. Conservatives to the right; Liberals to the left. +Stupendous, far-reaching change; one of those rarely happy events that +please everyone. Hearing what people say, it is difficult to decide +which the more pleased, Liberals at being turned out, or Conservatives +at springing in. On Ministerial side happiness marred in individual +cases by being left out of the Ministry. + +"I'm getting up in years now, TOBY," said THE +MARKISS, "and I've had pretty long experience in making up +Ministries. But I assure you I've been staggered during last week, +including in special degree the last hour. The more offices assigned, +the narrower becomes the basis of operation, and the more desperate +the rush of the attacking party. You'd be surprised if you saw the +list of men who have asked me for something. As a rule they don't put +it in that general way. They know precisely what they want, and are +not bashful in giving it a name, though they usually end up by saying +that if this particular post is disposed of, anything else will do. +In fact, like the cabman and the coy fare, they leave it to me. I am, +as you know, of placid temperament, inclined to take genial views of +my fellow-man. But I declare, if the process of forming a Ministry +under my direction were extended beyond a fortnight, I should become a +confirmed cynic." + +_Business done._--Parties change sides. + +_Tuesday._--"_Quel jour pour le bon Joe!_" said my Friend, dropping +with easy grace into the French of Alderney-atte-Sark. + +House full, considering the nearness of Dissolution. Members anxious +above all things to meet their constituents. Grudge every hour that +holds them from their embrace. Still, it is well upon occasion to +practise self-denial. Ten days or even a fortnight with constituents +during progress of contest inevitable. Just as well not to anticipate. +So House crowded to see PRINCE ARTHUR return. Slight flush +on his cheek as with swinging stride he comes to take up sceptre +PEEL once held, that DIZZY deftly wielded, that +GLADSTONE of late laid down. After him, second only to +him, JOSEPH--JOSEPH in his very best summer +suit, appropriate to occasion when sun shines most brightly. Then +JOKIM, who has descended to frivolity of white waistcoat, +which casts ghastly pallor over festive scene. Last of all, type in +these days of stern, unbending Toryism, MICHAEL HICKS-BEACH. + +[Illustration: LEFT OUT! (A Study of several Distinguished Persons, +who are unable to appreciate the charms of "Coalition"!)] + +"BEACH," said SARK, coming back to the English +tongue, "has never either manoeuvred or wobbled. He is of the +very flower of English political squirearchy. He has principles and +convictions, and he sticks to them. So, when a Conservative Ministry +arrives, he walks in last, and, on the Treasury Bench, takes any seat +others may not have appropriated. Consider these things, TOBY, +my boy. If you're bringing up any pups to a political career, the +study may be useful to you and them." PRIVATE HANBURY got +his stripes. After pegging away for years at Treasury, PRINCE +ARTHUR now put him on to repel attacks. Will do it well too. An +admirable appointment. Sad thing about it is, that it breaks up a +cherished companionship; parts friends by the height and width and back +of Treasury Bench. + +_Business done._--Ministers sworn in. + +_Thursday._--Notable change come over BOLTONPARTY in the last +few days. Unmistakable Retreat-from-Moscow look about him. When Liberal +Government went out and JOSEPH handed THE MARKISS to +the front, BOLTONPARTY beamed with large content. The Sun of +Austerlitz shone once more. + +"JOSEPH," he said, folding his arms in historic fashion, +letting his massive chin rest on his manly chest, what time his noble +brow shone with the radiance of mighty thoughts, "JOSEPH +will never forget his early friend and ally. It's not as if at the +last General Election I stood under his flag, won a seat, and laid +it at his feet. I fought North St. Pancras as a Home-Ruler, captured +it, and before new Parliament was many months old, went over to other +side, making early rift in lute of GLADSTONE'S majority. Some +men in such circumstances would have gone back to their constituency +and said, 'Dear boys, there's a mistake somewhere. You elected me on +a particular understanding. Since then I have taken another view of +the situation and of my duty. So I come back, return the trust you +placed in my hand, and give you opportunity of electing me again, or +choosing another man.' That might have led to inconvenience. Wouldn't +run any risk; so kept my seat, and voted steadily with JOSEPH. +Suppose they won't put me in the Cabinet right off? But I shall have +choice of first-class Under-Secretaryship. Shall it be War, Navy, or +Home Department? Any one excellent; but obviously I must go to the War +Office. Don't know whether there's any particular uniform for Financial +Secretary. If not, could soon knock one up from old portrait of the +Emperor." + +[Illustration: Virtue Rewarded! The new Secretary of the Treasury, Mr. +H-nb-ry.] + +Day after day BOLTONPARTY stayed at home, expecting every +hour to be sent for. Nothing came till Wednesday morning's papers +arrived, with, the news that son AUSTEN was Secretary to +the Admiralty, JESSE COLLINGS was installed at the Home +Office, and POWELL WILLIAMS--who never set a squadron +in the field, and didn't in any respect resemble the Emperor +NAPOLEON--was Financial Secretary to the War Office! "That's +bad enough, TOBY," said BOLTONPARTY, filing away an +iron tear that coursed down his steel-grey cheek. "But there's worse +behind. What do you think JOSEPH did when he heard I wasn't +all together pleased? He offered me a statue! Said he'd no doubt +AKERS-DOUGLAS could pick up on reasonable terms an old statue +of NAPOLEON; with a little touching up it would serve, and +there was a place ready on the site proposed for CROMWELL'S. +There was, he said, well-known picture of NAPOLEON Crossing +the Alps. Why shouldn't there be a statue of BOLTONPARTY +Crossing Marylebone Road, North Pancras? This is man's gratitude! I've +been cruelly Elba'd on one side, and nothing remains for me now but St. +Helena." + +[Illustration: Toby runs down to his Constituency.] + +_Business done._--All. + +_Saturday._--Prorogation to-day, with usual imposing ceremony. On +Monday, Dissolution. Off to the country. Of course no one opposes me in +Barks. But must do the civil thing by my constituents. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +109, July 13, 1895, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 44660.txt or 44660.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/6/6/44660/ + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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