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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 18:55:40 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 18:55:40 -0700 |
| commit | 39176d0433290b9fe0efbf9c82620c8988850f22 (patch) | |
| tree | abfdff491958fcea4615841cc88d8c4c4b50e274 /44706-h | |
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diff --git a/44706-h/44706-h.htm b/44706-h/44706-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bab9722 --- /dev/null +++ b/44706-h/44706-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1632 @@ +<!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" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> + + <title>Punch, or the London Charivari, April 13th, 1895.</title> + +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> + + <style type="text/css"> + + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + #coverpage {border: 1px solid black;} + p {text-align: justify;} + .ind {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em;} + .ind1 {margin-left: 3em; margin-right: 3em;} + .ind2 {margin-left: 5em; margin-right: 5em;} + .rindent {text-align: right; margin-left: 30%; margin-top: 0;} + .rindent1 {text-align: right; margin-right: 5em; margin-top: 0;} + h1 {line-height: 150%;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + p.title {text-align:center; text-indent:0; font-weight:bold; font-variant:small-caps; line-height:1.5; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:0;} + p.title1 {text-align: center; text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; margin-top: -0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.3em;} + p.title2 {text-align: center; text-indent: 0; font-weight: normal; margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0;} + + small {font-size: 70%;} + .smaller {font-size: 50%;} + .sans {font-family: sans-serif;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .center {text-align: center;} + + .footnote {font-size: 0.9em; text-align: center; margin-top: 1em;} + .aster {font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: bold;} + hr {width: 100%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.medium {width: 76%;} + html>body hr.medium {margin-right: 12%; margin-left: 12%; width: 76%;} + p.author {text-align: right; margin-top: -1em; margin-right: 2em;} + p.author1 {text-align: right; margin-top: -1em; margin-right: 5em;} + span.pagenum {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0;} + + .width18 {max-width: 18em;} + .width21 {max-width: 21em;} + .width24 {max-width: 24em;} + .width27 {max-width: 27em;} + .width30 {max-width: 30em;} + + .poem {margin: auto;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i16 {margin-left: 8em;} + + @media handheld { + .poem {display: block; margin-left: 1.5em;} + } + + .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;} + + a.ask:link {color: blue;background: inherit; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;} + a.ask:visited {color: blue;background: inherit; font-weight: normal;text-decoration: none;} + + @media handheld { +.figleft { +float : none; +text-align : center; +margin-right : 0; +} +} +@media handheld { +.figright { +float : none; +text-align : center; +margin-left : 0; +} +} +@media handheld { +body { +margin-left : 2%; +margin-right : 2%; +margin-top : 1%; +margin-bottom : 1%; +} +hr { +margin-top : 0.1em; +margin-bottom : 0.1em; +visibility : hidden; +color : white; +display : none; +} +} +@media print { +span.pagenum { +visibility : hidden; +color : white; +display : none; +} +} + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44706 ***</div> + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page169" id="page169"></a>[pg 169]</span></p> + +<h1>PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.<br /> + +<small>Volume 108, <span class="sc">April 13, 1895</span></small><br /> + +<span class="smaller"><i>edited by Sir Francis Burnand</i></span></h1> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/169a-1500.png"><img src="images/169a-600.png" width="600" height="391" alt="'I'LL SING THEE SONGS OF ARABY!'" /></a> +<h3 class="sans">"I'LL SING THEE SONGS OF ARABY!"</h3></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class=""> + +<h2>IN PRAISE OF THE TRIANGLE.</h2> + +<p class="center">In Praise of Try Angle.</p></div> + +<div class="poem width27"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Ye countless stars, both great and small,</p> +<p class="i2">The poetic sky who spangle,</p> +<p>Not one of you, that I recall,</p> +<p class="i2">Has hymned the sweet triangle!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>With lyre and lute too long, too much,</p> +<p class="i2">Ye've thrid love's mazy tangle,</p> +<p>Yet unresponsive to your touch</p> +<p class="i2">Have left the sweet triangle.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> + <div class="figright" style="width: 150px;"><a href="images/169b-320.png"><img src="images/169b-150.png" width="150" height="216" alt="In Praise of Try Angle." /></a></div> +<p>And so the Muse commissions me</p> +<p class="i2">A lay to newly fangle—</p> +<p>I play the instrument, you see—</p> +<p class="i2">In praise of my triangle.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>No tambourine, no minstrel bones</p> +<p class="i2">Give forth what <span class="sc">Hilda Wangel</span></p> +<p>Would call such "frightfully thrilling" tones</p> +<p class="i2">As those of my triangle.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>No self-respecting band may try</p> +<p class="i2">To play—'twould simply mangle—</p> +<p>Good music, unassisted by</p> +<p class="i2">The silver-tongued triangle.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>In vain does <span class="sc">Strephon</span> with a lute</p> +<p class="i2">Round <span class="sc">Phyllis</span> always dangle;</p> +<p>She'd have him, if he urged his suit</p> +<p class="i2">With passionate triangle.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Full brave may bray the loud trombone,</p> +<p class="i2">Full sweet the cymbals jangle,</p> +<p>The bagpipes till they burst may drone,</p> +<p class="i2">So I have my triangle.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The stately cold piano may</p> +<p class="i2">All depth of feeling strangle;</p> +<p>To rouse deep feeling I essay,</p> +<p class="i2">Nor fail, on my triangle!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>O'er rival claims of violin</p> +<p class="i2">And 'cello some may wrangle—</p> +<p>For pure expression nothing's in</p> +<p class="i2">The hunt with my triangle.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The diamond bracelet must exceed</p> +<p class="i2">In worth the silver bangle—</p> +<p>No instrument, string, wind, or reed,</p> +<p class="i2">Compares with my triangle!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>TO THE GRIFFIN.</h3> + +<p class="title1">(<i>By Calverlerius Rusticanus.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem width30"> <div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="sc">Griffin</span>, who benignly beamest</p> +<p class="i2">(So to speak) upon the Strand,</p> +<p>To the rustic eye thou seemest</p> +<p class="i2">Quite superlatively grand.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Griffin, grim and grimy Griffin,</p> +<p class="i2">Few, <span class="sc">Joe</span> tells me, will agree</p> +<p>With my artless numbers, if in</p> +<p class="i2">Undiluted praise of thee.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<div class="figright" style="width: 180px;"><a href="images/169c-330.png"><img src="images/169c-180.png" width="180" height="230" alt="Griffin" /></a></div> +<p>Critics, so he says, by dozens</p> +<p class="i2">Swear thou couldst not well be worse,</p> +<p>Yet from one poor country cousin's</p> +<p class="i2">Pen accept a tribute verse.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Some of London's statues now are</p> +<p class="i2">Fêted richly once a year;</p> +<p>Some—it seems a shame, I vow—are</p> +<p class="i2">Fated to oblivion there.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Once a year a primrose bower</p> +<p class="i2">Draws the folks around for miles,</p> +<p><span class="sc">Dizzy</span> blossoms into flower,</p> +<p class="i2">Almost into "wreathèd smiles."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Once a year by all the town o'er-</p> +<p class="i2">-whelmed in bays is <span class="sc">Gordon</span> seen,</p> +<p>Countless wreaths recording "<span class="sc">Brown</span> (or</p> +<p class="i2"><span class="sc">Jones</span>) thus keeps thy memory green."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Once a year King <span class="sc">Charles's</span> statue</p> +<p class="i2">Paragraphs jocose invites,</p> +<p>Wreathed with flowers by infatu-</p> +<p class="i2">-ated modern Jacobites.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Thus their substance people waste on</p> +<p class="i2">This queer decorative fit—</p> +<p>Wreaths are sometimes even placed on</p> +<p class="i2">Mere nonentities like <span class="sc">Pitt</span>.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>But—I cannot think what <span class="sc">Joe</span> meant—!</p> +<p class="i2">No one—so he said to me—</p> +<p>In his most expansive moment</p> +<p class="i2">E'er has twined a wreath for thee!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>So I cast—in no derision—</p> +<p class="i2">From my 'bus-top garden-seat</p> +<p>These few violets, with precision,</p> +<p class="i2">At what I must call thy feet.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>'Tis not that thy mien is stately,</p> +<p class="i2">'Tis not that thy grace is rare,</p> +<p>'Tis not that I care so greatly</p> +<p class="i2">For thy quaint heraldic air;</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>But contemptuous men neglect thee,</p> +<p class="i2">Load thee with invective strange,</p> +<p>So with violets I have decked thee,</p> +<p class="i2">And with verses, as a change.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The New Discovery.</span>—"Argon" is described +as "a gaseous constituent." In +most constituencies can be found plenty of +"Argons."</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page170" id="page170"></a>[pg 170]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/170-1200.png"><img src="images/170-420.png" width="420" height="498" alt="HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF; OR, THE MODERN ORACLE OF AMMON." /></a> +<h4 class="sans">HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF; OR, THE MODERN ORACLE OF AMMON.</h4> + +<p>"The people (the Libyans) deeming themselves not Egyptians, and being +discontented with the institutions, sent to the Oracle of Ammon, saying +that they had no relation to the Egyptians. The god, however, said, 'that all +the country which the Nile irrigated was Egypt.'"—<cite>Herodotus</cite>, II., 15. +B.C. 452.</p> + +<p>"I stated that, in consequence of these claims of ours and the claims of Egypt +in the Nile Valley, the British sphere of influence covered the +whole of the Nile waterway."—<cite>Sir E. Grey in House of Commons</cite>, +<span class="sc">A.D.</span> 1895.</p> + +<p><cite>John Bull.</cite> "<span class="sc">You see, Nilus, the Father of History and I are of the +same way of thinking. So you're all right, +my Boy, while I'm here!</span>"</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page171" id="page171"></a>[pg 171]</span></p> + +<h2>HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF;</h2> + +<p class="title1"><i>Or, The Modern Oracle of Ammon</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem width27"> <div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Nilus</i> (<i>referring to Parisian Press</i>).</p> +<p class="i2">But—won't it make our French friends furious?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> Gammon!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Nilus.</i> Are you, then, the new Oracle of Ammon?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> Well, <span class="sc">Alexander</span> claimed the god his sire.</p> +<p class="i2">So why not I?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Nilus.</i> I own I rather tire</p> +<p class="i2">Of all these squabbles. Peace is what I want.</p> +<p class="i2">Oh why did your intrusive <span class="sc">Speke</span> and <span class="sc">Grant</span><a id="footnotetag" name="footnotetag"></a><a class="ask" href="#footnote">*</a></p> +<p class="i2">Disturb my forty centuries of quiet?</p> +<p class="i2">Since then it's been all rumpus, and red riot.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> How about <span class="sc">Rameses</span>, old cockalorum?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Nilus.</i> Oh! better all the Pharoahs in full quorum</p> +<p class="i2">Than Condominiums. The Control called Dual——</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> Oh, don't you bother! <i>That</i> has got its gruel.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Nilus.</i> But these Exploring Expeditions?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> Bogey!</p> +<p class="i2">Young <span class="sc">Grey</span> should reassure you, my old fogey.</p> +<p class="i2">His words don't speak scuttle or shilly-shally</p> +<p class="i2">"My 'sphere of influence' covers the Nile Valley."</p> +<p class="i2">Isn't that plain enough? God Ammon's nod</p> +<p class="i2">Was hardly more decisive. It is odd</p> +<p class="i2">How very like the Oracle's straight tip</p> +<p class="i2">Was to Sir <span class="sc">Edward's</span>. A stiff upper lip</p> +<p class="i2">Saves lots of talk. "Explorers" will prove skittish</p> +<p class="i2">But the whole Nile's Egyptian (and thus British).</p> +<p class="i2">Just as <span class="sc">Herodotus</span> tells us Ammon said.</p> +<p class="i2">Sir <span class="sc">Edward</span>, my dear Nile, has an old head</p> +<p class="i2">Upon young shoulders; courteous as a <span class="sc">Granville</span>,</p> +<p class="i2">He comes down like a hammer on an anvil—</p> +<p class="i2">Or Ammon on the Libyans—when 'tis needful.</p> +<p class="i2">Of rumoured expeditions he is heedful</p> +<p class="i2">But not afraid. Effective occupation?</p> +<p class="i2">Why that's a ticklish point—for many a nation.</p> +<p class="i2">But why define it? <span class="sc">Edward</span> has a shorter way;</p> +<p class="i2">He claims for me the whole of your long waterway,</p> +<p class="i2">And plainly says intrusion would be viewed</p> +<p class="i2">As—well, "unfriendly." Should the <span class="sc">Frank</span> intrude——</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Nilus.</i> Ah! by the way, friend <span class="sc">John</span>, whose head is yonder</p> +<p>Protruding through the reeds?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Mr. Bull</i> (<i>loudly</i>). Humph! Let him ponder</p> +<p class="i2">What he, perchance, has overheard. No mystery!</p> +<p class="i2">I simply hold with the great Sire of History.</p> +<p class="i2">The <i>Times</i> and old <span class="sc">Herodotus</span> quite agree.</p> +<p class="i2">And both speak for the Oracle—J. B.,</p> +<p class="i2">Or Jupiter Ammon. The <i>Débats</i> may differ</p> +<p class="i2">(At the French Press, at best, <i>I</i> am no sniffer),</p> +<p class="i2">But don't you be alarmed by spleenful splutter,</p> +<p class="i2">Or what mere bouncing boulevardiers utter.</p> +<p class="i2">From all intruders you'll be safe, if you</p> +<p class="i2">But trust to the Old Oracle—and the New!</p> +<p class="i2">Far cry, old boy, from <span class="sc">Pharoah</span> to the <span class="sc">Guelph</span>.</p> +<p class="i2">Funny how History <i>does</i> repeat itself!</p> + </div> </div> + +<p class="footnote"><a id="footnote" name="footnote"></a><a class="ask" href="#footnotetag">*</a> See Cartoon "Britannia Discovering the +Source of the Nile," p. 233, Vol. XLIV., June 6, +1863.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;"><a href="images/171-800.png"><img src="images/171-330.png" width="330" height="489" alt="A STUDY IN 'BIMETALLISM.'" /></a> +<h4 class="sans">A STUDY IN "BIMETALLISM."</h4> + +<p><cite>Quotation from the Right Hon. Arth-r B-lf-r's Speech on this subject last week.</cite>— +"<span class="sc">A general fall in Prices was said to be good for the Consumer.</span>"</p> + +<p>Does it look like it in this instance? [ <span class="aster">*<sub>*</sub>*</span> <i>So far</i> the Court is with Mr. +<span class="sc">A. B-lf-r.</span>]</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>To Corinna, angry.</h3> + +<div class="poem width18"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>The fault was mine. With piercing pang</p> +<p class="i2">My trespass I deplore;</p> +<p>But, when 'tis I you ought to bang,</p> +<p class="i2">Why do you bang the door?</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="ind2">Q. E. D.—There is said to be a good deal +of illness and absence from lessons of the +schoolboy population of London at present. +Can there be any connection between this +phenomenon and a paragraph which is going +the round of the papers, headed, "An objection +to Euclid"? What is sport to us +may be death to them!</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>The Long and Short of It.</h3> + +<div class="poem width24"> <div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Ars longa est!</i> All know what once that meant;</p> +<p class="i2">But cranks corrupt so sickeningly have shindied</p> +<p>About <i>their</i> <span class="sc">Art</span> of late, 'tis evident</p> +<p class="i2">The rendering now must be, "Art is long-winded!"</p> +<p>For <i>Vita brevis</i>,—all true men must hope,</p> +<p class="i2">Brief life for such base Art—and a short rope!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Motto—slightly modified from Gray's +"Elegy"—for Stoddart's Eleven.</span>—"Still +in those 'ashes' live their wonted fire."</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page172" id="page172"></a>[pg 172]</span></p> + +<h2 class="sans">SATURDAY NIGHT IN THE EDGWARE ROAD.</h2> + +<blockquote><p> +<i>For over half a mile the pavement on the East side of the road is +thronged with promenaders, and the curbstone lined with stalls +and barrows, and hawkers of various wares. Marketing housewives +with covered baskets oscillate undecidedly from stalls to +shops, and put off purchasing to the last possible moment. +Maids-of-all-work perambulate arm in arm, exchanging airy +badinage with youths of their acquaintance, though the latter +seem to prefer the society of their own sex. A man with a +switchback skittle-board plays gloomy games by himself to an +unspeculative group of small boys. The tradesmen stand outside +their shops and conduct their business with a happy blend of +the methods of a travelling +showman and a clown.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Burlesque Butcher.</i> Now then +all o' <i>you</i> there! Buy, buy, buy! +Jest give yer minds to spendin' +yer money! (<i>In a tone of artless +wonder.</i>) Where <i>does</i> the Butcher +git this <i>luverly</i> meat? What +can I do fur <i>you</i> now, Marm? +(<i>Triumphantly, after selling the +scrag-end of a neck of mutton.</i>) +<i>Now</i> we're busy!</p> + +<p><i>Farcical Fishmonger</i> (<i>with two +Comic Assistants</i>). Ahar! (<i>To +crowd.</i>) Come 'ere, you silly +young snorkers! I've the quali<i>tee!</i> +I've the quali<i>tay!</i> <i>Keep</i> +takin' money!</p> + +<p><i>First Comic Assistant.</i> Ahye! +Foppence a pound nice plaice! +Kippers two fur three 'apence. +<i>We</i>'re the Perfeshnal Curers! +What are yer all goin' to <i>do?</i> +Sort 'em out cheap!</p> + +<p><i>Second C. A.</i> I don't mind. +What care I? (<i>Bursting into +song.</i>) "'Ow, she rowled me 'ed, +and rumbled in the 'ay!" On +me word, she did, ladies!</p> + +<p class="rindent">[<i>He executes a double shuffle, +and knocks over several boxes +of bloaters in the gaiety of +his heart.</i></p> + +<p><i>A Hawker of Penny Memorandum +Books</i> (<i>to an audience of +small boys</i>). Those among you 'oo +are not mechanics, decidedly you +'ave mechanical <i>hideers!</i></p> + +<p class="rindent">[<i>He enlarges upon the convenience +of having a note-book in +which to jot down any inspirations +of this kind; but his +hearers do not appear to +agree with him.</i></p> + +<p><i>A Lugubrious Vendor.</i> One +penny for six comic pypers. +Hevery one different!</p> + +<p><i>A Rude Boy.</i> You ain't bin +<i>readin'</i> o' any on 'em, 'ave yer, +guv'nor?</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 270px;"><a href="images/172-800.png"><img src="images/172-270.png" width="270" height="494" alt="'You ain't bin a readin' o' any on 'em, 'ave yer," /></a> +<p class="center">'You ain't bin a <i>readin'</i> o' any on 'em, 'ave yer, +guv'nor?"</p></div> + +<p><i>A Crockery Merchant</i> (<i>as he +unpacks a variety of vases of +appalling hideousness</i>). <i>I</i> don't +care—it's self-sacrifice to give +away! Understand, you ain't +buyin' <i>common</i> things, you're +buyin' suthin' <i>good!</i> It 'appens +to be my buthday to-night, so +I'm goin' to let you people 'ave +the benefit of the doubt. Come on +'ere. I don't ask you to b'lieve +<i>me</i>—ony to jedge fur yerselves. +I'm not 'ere to tell you no fairy tales; and the reason why I'm in a +position to orfer up these vawses—all richly gilt, and decorated in +three colours, the most expensive ever made—the reason I'm able to +sell them so cheap as I'm doin' is this—(<i>he lowers his voice +mysteriously</i>)—arf +the stuff I 'ave 'ere we git <i>in very funny ways!</i></p> + +<p class="rindent">[<i>This ingeniously suggestive hint enhances the natural charm of +his ware to such a degree that the vases are bought up +briskly, as calculated to brighten the humblest home.</i></p> + +<p><i>A Sanctimonious Young Man</i> (<i>with a tongue too large for his +mouth, who has just succeeded in collecting a circle round him</i>). I +am only 'ere to-night, my friends, as a paid servant—for the purpose +of deciding a wager. Some o' you may have noticed an advertisement +lately in the <i>Daily Telegrawf</i>, asking for men to stand on Southwark +Bridge and orfer arf-suverings for a penny apiece. You are equally +well aware that it is illegal to orfer the Queen's coinage for money: +and that is <i>not</i> my intention this evening. <i>But</i> I 'ave 'ere several +pieces +of gold, guaranteed to be of the exact weight of arf a suvering, and +'all-marked, which, in order to decide the wager I 'ave spoken of, I +shall now perceed to charge you the sum of one penny for, and no +more. I am not allowed to sell <i>more</i> than one to each person——</p> + +<p class="rindent">[<i>Here a constable comes up, and the decision of the wager is +postponed until a more favourable opportunity.</i></p> + +<p><i>First "General"</i> (<i>looking into a draper's window</i>). Look at them +coloured felt 'ats—all shades, and on'y sixpence three-fardens!</p> + +<p><i>Second "G."</i> They <i>are</i> reasonable; +but I've 'eard as felt 'ats is +gone out o' fashion now.</p> + +<p><i>First "G."</i> Don't you believe +it, <span class="sc">Sarah</span>. Why, my married +sister bought one on'y last week!</p> + +<p><i>Coster</i> (<i>to an old lady who has +repudiated a bunch of onions after +a prolonged scrutiny</i>). Frorsty? +So would <i>you</i> be if <i>your</i> onion 'ad +bin layin' out in the fields all +night as long as these 'ave!</p> + +<p><i>First Itinerant Physician</i> (<i>as +he screws up fragments of candy +in pieces of newspaper</i>). That is +Frog in your Froat what I'm +doin' up now. I arsk you to try +it. It's given to me to give +away, and I'm goin' to <i>give</i> it +away—you understand?—that's +all. And now I'm goin' to tork +to you about suthink else. You +see this small bottle what I 'old +up. I tell you there's 'undreds +layin' in bed at this present +moment as 'ud give a shillin' fur +one of these—and I offer it to you +at one penny! It corrects all +nerve-pains connected with the +'ed, cures earache, toothache, +neuralgy, noomonia, 'art-complaint, +fits, an' syhatica. Each +bottle is charged with helectricity, +forming a complete galvanic-battery. +Hall <i>you</i> 'ave to do is to +place the bottle to one o' your +nawstrils, first closing the other +with your finger. You will find +it compels you to sniff. The +moment you <i>tyke</i> that sniff, +you'll find the worter comin' +into your heyes—and that's the +helectricity. You'll say, "<i>I</i> always +'eard helectricity was a +<i>fluid</i>." (<i>With withering scorn.</i>) +Very <i>likely!</i> You <i>'ave!</i> An' +<i>why?</i> Be-cawse o' the hignirant +notions prevailin' about scientific +affairs! Hevery one o' these +bottles contains a battery, and to +heach purchaser I myke 'im a +present—a <i>present</i>, mind yer—of +Frog in 'is Froat!</p> + +<p><i>Susan Jane</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="sc">Lizerann</span>, <i>before +a stall where "Novelettes, +three a penny," are to be procured +by the literary</i>). Shall we 'ave a +penn'orth, an' you go 'alves along +o' me?</p> + +<p><i>Lizerann.</i> Not <i>me</i>. I ain't got +no time to go improvin' o' <i>my</i> +mind, whatever <i>you</i> 'ave!</p> + +<p><i>A Vendor of "'Ore'ound Tablets"</i> (<i>he is a voluble young man, +with considerable lung-power, and a tendency to regard his cough-lozenges +as not only physical but moral specifics</i>). I'm on'y a young +feller, as you see, and yet 'ere I <i>am</i>, with my four burnin' lamps, +and a lassoo-soot as belonged to my Uncle <span class="sc">Bill</span>, doin' <i>wunnerful</i> +well. Why, I've took over two pound in coppers a'ready! Mind +you, I don't deceive you; you may all on you do as well as me; on'y +you'll 'ave to git two good ref'rences fust, <i>and</i> belong to a temp'rance +society, like I do. This is the badge as I've got on me at this minnit. +I ain't always bin like I am now. I started business four year ago, +and was doin' wunnerful well, too, till I got among 'orse-copers an' +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page173" id="page173"></a>[pg 173]</span> +dealers and went on the booze, and lost the lot. Then I turned up +the drink and got a berth sellin' these 'ere Wangoo Tablets—and now +I've got a neat little missus, and a nice 'ome, goin' on wunnerful comfortable. +Never a week passes but what I buy myself something. +Last week it was a pair o' noo socks. Soon as the sun peeps out and +the doo dries up, I'm orf to Yarmouth. And what's the reason? +I've <i>enjoyed</i> myself there. My Uncle <span class="sc">Bill</span>, as lives at Lowestoft, +and keeps six fine 'orses and a light waggon, <i>he</i>'s doin' wunnerful +well, and he'd take me into partnership to-morrow, he would. But no—I'm +'appier as I am. What's the reason I kin go on torkin' to you +like this night after night, without injury to my voice? Shall I tell +yer? Because, every night o' my life, afore I go to bed, I take four +o' these Wangoo Tablets—compounded o' the purest 'erbs. You take +them to the nearest doctor's and arsk 'im to analyse an' test them as +he <i>will</i>, and you 'ear what <i>he</i> says of them! Take one o' them +tablets—after your pipe; after your cigaw; after your cigarette. +You won't want no more drink, you'll find they make you come 'ome +reglar every evening, and be able to buy a noo 'at every week. +You've ony to persevere for a bit with these 'ere lawzengers to be +like I am myself, doin' <i>wunnerful</i> well! You see this young feller +'ere? (<i>Indicating a sheepish head in a pot-hat which is visible over +the back of his stall.</i>) Born and bred in Kenada, <i>'e</i> was. And quite +<i>right!</i> Bin over 'ere six year, so o' course 'e speaks the lengwidge. +And <i>quite</i> right. Now I'm no Amerikin myself, but they're a +wunnerful clever people, the Amerikins are, allays inventin' or +suthink o' that there. And you're at liberty to go and arsk 'im for +yourselves whether this is a real Amerikin invention or not—as he'll +tell yer it <i>is</i>—and quite right, too! An' it stands to reason as +<i>he</i> orter to know, seein' he interdooced it 'imself and doin' wunnerful +well with it ever since. I ain't come 'ere to <i>rob</i> yer. Lady come and +give me a two-shillin' piece just now. I give it her back. <i>She</i> +didn't know—thort it was a penny, till I told her. Well, that just +shows yer what these 'ere Wangoo 'Ore'ound Tablets <i>are!</i></p> + +<p class="rindent">[<i>After this practical illustration of their efficacy, he pauses for +oratorical effect, and a hard-worked-looking matron purchases +three packets, in the apparent hope that a similar halo +of the best horehound will shortly irradiate the head of her +household.</i></p> + +<p><i>Lizerann</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="sc">Susan Jane</span>, <i>as they walk homewards</i>). +On'y fancy—the +other evenin', as I was walkin' along this very pavement, a cab-'orse +come up beyind me, unbeknown like, and put 'is 'ed over my +shoulder and breathed right in my ear!</p> + +<p><i>Susan Jane</i> (<i>awestruck</i>). You <i>must</i> ha' bin a bad gell!</p> + +<p class="rindent">[<span class="sc">Lizerann</span> <i>is clearly disquieted by so mystical an interpretation, +even while she denies having done anything deserving of a +supernatural rebuke</i>.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"><a href="images/173a-500.png"><img src="images/173a-150.png" width="150" height="155" alt="" /></a></div> + +<p><span class="sc">General Adye</span> has added to our national war story <cite>Recollections +of a Military Life</cite> (<span class="sc">Smith, Elder & Co.</span>). Sir <span class="sc">John</span> has not +been in +a hurry. He began fighting more than forty years ago, and has since +filled up opportunity as it presented itself. These particular recollections +are chiefly occupied with the Crimean War and the Indian +Mutiny, though the old soldier has something to say about the +Afghan War of 1878-9, and the +Egyptian War of 1882. My +Baronite finds most interesting +the chapters about the Crimean +War, certain incidents and episodes +of which are narrated +with soldierlike directness and +simplicity. The story of the +Balaclava Charge has been told +in verse and prose innumerable +times. General <span class="sc">Adye</span> did not +actually see it, "a ridge of +intervening hills intercepting +the view" as he rode back to +the camp from Balaclava. But +he manages in a sentence or two +vividly to impress the scene on +the mind of the reader. Among many good stories is one about General +<span class="sc">Harry Jones</span>. <span class="sc">Pelissier</span>, with a Frenchman's scorn of any +language +but his own, got as near as he could to ordinary pronunciation when he +called him "General <span class="sc">Hairy-Joze</span>." He did better when the gallant +General was knighted, and was alluded to respectfully by the French +Commander-in-Chief as "<span class="sc">Sairey-Joze</span>" (Sir <span class="sc">Harry Jones</span>).</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">The Baron de Book-Worms.</span></p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>A Quip.</h3> + +<p class="ind2">Mr. <span class="sc">Arthur Toller</span> has been appointed to the Recordership of +Leicester. He is an able man. "<i>Argal</i>," as the Shakspearian Clown +would say, "the appointment is just Toller-able."</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/173b-800.png"><img src="images/173b-350.png" width="350" height="470" alt="MAGNIFYING HIS CALLING." /></a> +<h4 class="sans">MAGNIFYING HIS CALLING.</h4> + +<p><i>Peter.</i> "<span class="sc">Na, Laddie, this is ane o' thae things a Body can +never Learn. There's no nae use in a Man takin' tae <i>this</i> +job unless he has a naiteral born Aptitude for 'd!</span>"</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>THREE MODES OF SPENDING A BANK HOLIDAY.</h3> + +<p class="title1">(<i>By a Confirmed Pessimist.</i>)</p> + +<p class="ind"><i>Plan the First.</i>—Take to Volunteering. Be up at daybreak. +Leave your home after snatching a hasty breakfast of lukewarm tea +and stale bread-and-butter. Crowd into a railway-carriage, and +travel a hundred miles or so in the greatest discomfort. Fall in +with your company. March, counter-march, and stand at ease for +ten hours or so in sunshine, rain, fog, or snow. Stave off starvation +with a packet of sandwiches and a bottle of ginger ale. Dead +beat, enter crowded train a second time, and again travel a hundred +miles or so in the greatest discomfort. More dead than alive, stagger +home, and wearily roll into bed.</p> + +<p class="ind"><i>Plan the Second.</i>—Try a trip to the sea-side. Share a first-class +compartment with a dozen third-class passengers. Travel to +Shrimpington with the accompaniment of rank tobacco-smoke, +comic songs, and solos on the concertina. Get to your destination +with a splitting headache. Find that all the shops are shut, +and all the taverns open. Learn that Shrimpington, as represented +by its respectable inhabitants, goes away <i>en masse</i> on a bank +holiday. Discover that there is but one hotel in the place. Ascertain +that at the solitary hostelry the rooms are filled with noisy +excursionists, greedily devouring "the shilling tea." Search for +nourishment, and fail in your search. Fall back upon stale buns +at a third-rate sweet-stuff shop. Catch your train back, and endure +the torture of the morning. Travel amongst the same company, +under the like conditions. Reach home hours later than you proposed +on starting, and consider whether the holiday has been a triumphant +success or a dismal failure.</p> + +<p class="ind"><i>Plan the Third</i> (<i>highly recommended</i>).—Although desiring +change, remain at home, choosing the lesser of two evils.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="ind1"><span class="sc">Mr. Gully.</span>—"<span class="sc">William Court Gully</span>, M.P."—certainly "Caught +<span class="sc">Gully</span>" at last. Now the question is, "<span class="sc">Will Gully</span>" be +acceptable +to all parties "E-gully"?</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page174" id="page174"></a>[pg 174]</span></p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/174-1500.png"><img src="images/174-600.png" width="600" height="361" alt="GENTLE IRONY." /></a> +<h3 class="sans">GENTLE IRONY.</h3> + +<p><i>'Bus Driver</i> (<i>to ill-favoured Policeman, who has stopped him at a +crossing</i>). "<span class="sc">When are yer goin' to let me 'ave that Photo?</span>"</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>NOT DONE YET.</h3> + +<p class="title1"><span class="sc">A Song of St. Stephen's School.</span></p> + +<p class="title2">(<i>To the Air of the Harrow Song, "Fairies."</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem width21"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>When in the Springtime cold and bleak,</p> +<p class="i2">In spite of wind and weather,</p> +<p>The Blues and Buffs, the strong and weak</p> +<p class="i2">Throng out of school together;</p> +<p>Off to their homes alert and gay</p> +<p class="i2">From long sederunts risen,</p> +<p>Majors and minors rush to play,</p> +<p class="i2">Live lags let loose from prison.</p> +<p>There you behold "Big <span class="sc">Bill</span>," the bold!</p> +<p class="i2">Hear how his heart rejoices—</p> +<p>"Ho ho! ha ha! Tra-la-la-la!"—</p> +<p class="i2">Booms his most bass of voices.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>He cocks a snook at slate and book.</p> +<p class="i2">He's had his work <i>this</i> term, boys,</p> +<p>But has contrived, by hook or crook,</p> +<p class="i2">To keep his footing firm, boys.</p> +<p>He's had to fight, like <span class="sc">Dibdin's</span> tar,</p> +<p class="i2">'Gainst many a would-be boarder.</p> +<p>It needed wit as well as war</p> +<p class="i2">To keep the school in order.</p> +<p>But he has shown both wit and grit,</p> +<p class="i2">And patience linked about it.</p> +<p>"Ho ho! ha ha! Tra-la-la-la!"—</p> +<p class="i2">Young <span class="sc">Arty</span> hears him shout it.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="sc">Arty</span> had hoped he could have coped</p> +<p class="i2">With <span class="sc">Bill</span>, and licked him hollow;</p> +<p>That <span class="sc">Jack</span> had kicked, and <span class="sc">Sandy</span> moped,</p> +<p class="i2">And <span class="sc">Pat</span> refused to follow.</p> +<p>But <span class="sc">Bill</span> has proved a dodgy one,</p> +<p class="i2">As well as a hard hitter;</p> +<p>And that has somewhat marred the fun,</p> +<p class="i2">And disappointment's bitter.</p> +<p>What wonder then <span class="sc">Bill's</span> Tra-la-la</p> +<p class="i2">Sets <span class="sc">Arty</span> shouting shrilly,</p> +<p>"Boohoo and pah! Yah-boo-yah-bah!</p> +<p class="i2">You wait a bit, Big <span class="sc">Billy</span>!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"With spur and rein, whip-stroke and strain,</p> +<p class="i2">Jehu <i>plus</i> artful jockey,</p> +<p>You've kept your team in tow again,</p> +<p class="i2">And you look blessed cocky.</p> +<p>Wait till the way shows sludge and clay,</p> +<p class="i2">And you the pace would quicken!</p> +<p>Over you'll roll long ere the goal,</p> +<p class="i2">And <i>then</i> the fun will thicken!"—</p> +<p><span class="sc">Bill</span> cocks his chins, and skips and grins</p> +<p class="i2">Like any Jumping-Jingle.</p> +<p>His loud Ha, ha! Tra-la-la-la!</p> +<p class="i2">Sets <span class="sc">Arty's</span> blood a-tingle.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"Bah! You've done fairly well this half:</p> +<p class="i2">Think you'll survive another</p> +<p>As the school's 'Cock,' you great fat calf?</p> +<p class="i2">Look out for my Big Brother!</p> +<p>When <i>he</i> gets hold of you,—my eye!—</p> +<p class="i2">You won't look quite so jolly.</p> +<p>Think you've licked me! Wait till you try</p> +<p class="i2">A round or two with <span class="sc">Solly</span>!</p> +<p>He's waiting for a turn at you!</p> +<p class="i2"><i>You</i> think you're a smart smiter?</p> +<p>'Tra-la-la-la'? Yah! bully! yah!</p> +<p class="i2"><i>He</i>'ll show you who's cock fighter!"</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>To Tara, My (Un-)Fair Neighbour.</h3> + +<p class="title2">(<cite>"Moore"—where this comes from.</cite>)</p> + +<div class="poem width21"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"The harp that once through <span class="sc">Tara's</span> walls"</p> +<p class="i2">Poor me disturbed in bed,</p> +<p>Is nightly twang'd to feline squalls</p> +<p class="i2">That wrack my aching head.</p> +<p>I sleep not as in former days,</p> +<p class="i2">Her voice cries "Sleep no more!"</p> +<p>Ah, would she hadn't got this craze,</p> +<p class="i2">And did not live next door!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">A New Literary Venture.</span>—In distinct +opposition to the "Key-note series" will be +started a "Wed-lock-and-Key note series."</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>"PRIDE AND PREJUDICE."</h3> + +<p class="center"> +["Canada, unlike the mother-country, has the +sense to be proud of its minor poets."—<cite>Mr. Le +Gallienne in "The Realm."</cite>] +</p> + +<div class="poem width24"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Really this bitter and bold accusation of</p> +<p class="i2">Conduct so culpable cannot be borne;</p> +<p>Are we indeed but a barbarous nation of</p> +<p class="i2">Philistines treating our poets with scorn?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Are we contemptuous, then, in reality,</p> +<p class="i2">Of the effusions our lyricists write—</p> +<p>Singing sweet songs of the Modern Morality,</p> +<p class="i2">Praising each other from morning to night?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Modesty, clearly, is somehow availing to</p> +<p class="i2">Burke them of glory which should be their own,</p> +<p>Modesty, morbid, excessive—a failing to</p> +<p class="i2">Which, it's notorious, poets are prone.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Only, he tells us, in Canada's latitude</p> +<p class="i2">Honour to singers is duly allowed:</p> +<p>Nay, how can Britons be backward in gratitude,</p> +<p class="i2">Having <span class="sc">Le Gallienne</span>, are they not proud?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Yes, when we Englishmen boast of our national</p> +<p class="i2">Glories and deeds, though the scoffers deride,</p> +<p>This is the greatest and really most rational</p> +<p class="i2">Source of supreme and legitimate pride—</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Not in the struggles or deeds of iniquity</p> +<p class="i2">Wrought by our sires in desperate fray,</p> +<p>Still less in <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, or bards of antiquity,</p> +<p class="i2">But in the poets amongst us to-day!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Might we suggest, though, if, in the opinion of</p> +<p class="i2">Mr. <span class="sc">Le Gallienne</span>, England's to blame,</p> +<p>He and his comrades should seek the Dominion of</p> +<p class="i2">Canada, where they'll be certain of fame?</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page175" id="page175"></a>[pg 175]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 420px;"><a href="images/175-1200.png"><img src="images/175-420.png" width="420" height="504" alt="NOT DONE YET." /></a> +<h2>NOT DONE YET.</h2> + +<p><span class="sc">Master Arty B-lf-r</span> (<i>to</i> <span class="sc">Master Bill H-rc-t</span>). "HA! YOU'VE +BEEN PRETTY COCKY THIS HALF, BUT +WAIT TILL 'MY BIG BROTHER' GETS HOLD OF YER!"</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page176" id="page176"></a>[pg 176]</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page177" id="page177"></a>[pg 177]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/177-800.png"><img src="images/177-330.png" width="330" height="475" alt="SO VERY CONSIDERATE." /></a> +<h4 class="sans">SO VERY CONSIDERATE.</h4> + +<p><i>Stout Coster.</i> "<span class="sc">Where are yer goin' to, Bill?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Bill.</i> "<span class="sc">Inter the Country for a nice Drive, bein' Bank 'Olidy.</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Stout Coster.</i> "<span class="sc">Same 'ere. I sy! don't yer think we might swop +Misseses just +for a few Hours? It would be so much kinder to the Hanimile!</span>"</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>CONCERNING A MISUSED TERM;</h3> + +<p class="title2"><i>viz.</i>, <i>"Art" as recently applied to a certain +form of Literature</i>.</p> + +<div class="poem width24"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Is this, then, "Art"—ineffable conceit,</p> +<p class="i2">Plus worship of the Sadi-tainted phrase,</p> +<p>Of pseud-Hellenic decadence, effete,</p> +<p class="i2">Unvirile, of debased Petronian ways?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Is <i>this</i> your "Culture," to asphyxiate</p> +<p class="i2">With upas-perfume sons of English race,</p> +<p>With manhood-blighting cant-of-art to prate,</p> +<p class="i2">The jargon of an epicene disgrace?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Shall worse than pornographic stain degrade</p> +<p class="i2">The name of "Beauty," Heav'n-imparted dower?</p> +<p>Are <i>they</i> fit devotees, who late displayed</p> +<p class="i2">The symbol of a vitriol-tinted flower?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And shall the sweet and kindly Muse be shamed</p> +<p class="i2">By unsexed "Poetry" that defiles your page?</p> +<p>Has Art a mission that may not be named,</p> +<p class="i2">With "scarlet sins" to enervate the age?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>All honour to the rare and cleanly prints,</p> +<p class="i2">Which have not filled our homes from day to day</p> +<p>With garbage-epigrams and pois'nous hints</p> +<p class="i2">How æsthete-hierophants fair Art betray!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>If such be "Artists," then may Philistines</p> +<p class="i2">Arise, plain sturdy Britons as of yore,</p> +<p>And sweep them off and purge away the signs</p> +<p class="i2">That England e'er such noxious offspring bore!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Cry of the Free Library Frequenter.</span>—A +Cheap Loaf.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2 class="sans">"HOW TO CONTROL AND RECTIFY PUBLIC OPINION."</h2> + +<p class="title1"> +["It is impossible to bribe a French paper."—<i>Times, +April 5, 1895.</i>] +</p> + +<blockquote><p> +<span class="sc">Scene</span>—<i>Sanctum of the</i> Rédacteur en chef <i>of +"Le Gamin de Paris."</i> Rédacteur <i>discovered +reading latest issue</i>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Rédacteur.</i> Dear me, this note about the +pacific intentions of the <span class="sc">German Emperor</span> is +most interesting! I wonder how it got in. I +did not notice it when I glanced through the +pages. Still, I have the most unlimited confidence +in my staff. (<i>Quoting from his paper.</i>) +"There is no doubt that we can safely disarm, +as Germany is our friend—the best of our +friends." Dear me! Most interesting!</p> + +<p class="rindent1">[<i>Enter menial, ushering in mysterious +stranger.</i></p> + +<p><i>Stranger.</i> I trust I am not intruding?</p> + +<p><i>Rédacteur.</i> Certainly not. It is the duty +of an editor to be always at the service of +those who seek his advice. No doubt you +desire my opinion upon some matter of importance?</p> + +<p><i>Stranger.</i> You have guessed rightly. Which +do you prefer, a mansion in town or a castle +in the country?</p> + +<p><i>Rédacteur</i> (<i>smiling</i>). Well, I am scarcely +qualified to judge, for I only possess a mansion +in town. I have no castle in the country.</p> + +<p><i>Stranger.</i> Pardon me. You have one now.</p> + +<p class="rindent1">[<i>Gives</i> Editor <i>title-deeds</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Rédacteur</i> (<i>glancing at the documents</i>). +What, the Château de St. Querecs! One of +the finest places in Brittany! You are really +too amiable!</p> + +<p><i>Stranger.</i> Not at all. And now tell me, +do you prefer <span class="sc">Wagner</span> to <span class="sc">Verdi</span>, or <span class="sc">Mascagni</span> +to <span class="sc">Mozart</span>?</p> + +<p><i>Rédacteur.</i> Again I am at a disadvantage. +You see I go so seldom to the Opera. +The expense is——</p> + +<p><i>Stranger.</i> The expense is inconsiderable +when you possess a <i>loge</i> on the grand tier. +(<i>Giving paper.</i>) Allow me to present you +with a perpetual box.</p> + +<p><i>Rédacteur.</i> Your courtesy is simply charming! +But why do you overwhelm me with +these obligations? We are unknown to one +another.</p> + +<p><i>Stranger</i> (<i>with a bow</i>). Not at all. You +are famous. As for me—why I am nothing. +I am absolutely valueless.</p> + +<p><i>Rédacteur</i> (<i>politely</i>). You do not do yourself +justice. I will be bound you are most +valuable.</p> + +<p><i>Stranger.</i> Well, perhaps you are right. +At any rate I can fill in a cheque—yes, and +with four or five figures! I will show you. +Permit me.</p> + +<p class="rindent1">[<i>Approaches writing materials, and +rapidly completes draft.</i></p> + +<p><i>Rédacteur.</i> And for whom is that cheque?</p> + +<p><i>Stranger.</i> Read the name to whose order it +is made payable.</p> + +<p><i>Rédacteur</i> (<i>surprised but admiring</i>). Mine! +This is simply marvellous. And are you +clever enough to write a leader?</p> + +<p><i>Stranger.</i> Assuredly. See I will compose +one at once. (<i>Sits at table, knocks off an +article and hands it to</i> Rédacteur). What do +you think of it?</p> + +<p><i>Rédacteur</i> (<i>smiling</i>). I will give you my +opinion when I see it in type. You will find +it in the <i>Gamin</i> to-morrow. Good day!</p> + +<p class="rindent1">[<i>Scene closes in upon a tableau suggesting +at once delicacy and the right +understanding of commercial principles.</i></p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Her Latest.</span>—"The silence was so great," +said Mrs. R., "you could have picked up a +pin!"</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page178" id="page178"></a>[pg 178]</span></p> + +<h3 class="sans">MINOR POETRY IN THE SERE AND YELLOW LEAF.</h3> + +<p class="title2"><i>A candid M.P. showeth cause.</i></p> + +<div class="poem width21"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Fair Waitress at the A. B. C.,</p> +<p class="i2">To which I most resort,</p> +<p>Bring me a roll and cup of tea—</p> +<p class="i2">No longer bards drink port.</p> +<p>No more the lusty, generous vine</p> +<p class="i2">In bardic veins makes summer;</p> +<p>That's why Apollo's lyre divine</p> +<p class="i2">Knows but the sorry strummer.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>No rich libation at the "Cock,"</p> +<p class="i2">Degenerate race, we pour,</p> +<p>And tea, not port, at five o'clock,</p> +<p class="i2">Is what we all adore.</p> +<p>In coffee, tea, and lemon squash</p> +<p class="i2">The Muse ne'er dips her laurel,</p> +<p>So what we write is either "wash,"</p> +<p class="i2">Or hopelessly immoral.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>When life, each quarter, is made out</p> +<p class="i2">Of still more jaundiced hue,</p> +<p>The needy bard must join the shout,</p> +<p class="i2">His verse be jaundiced too:</p> +<p>But tea's the spell, these latter times,</p> +<p class="i2">As of some fell narcotic,</p> +<p>That makes us weave our random rhymes</p> +<p class="i2">All rotten, or neurotic.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>We modern bardlets, tea-inspired,</p> +<p class="i2">Condemn th' "old-fashioned gang,"</p> +<p>And yet we miss the spark that fired</p> +<p class="i2">The songs our fathers sang:</p> +<p>Their tastes were healthier than their sons',</p> +<p class="i2">Their rhymes were "none so dusty,"</p> +<p>When bards ate beef instead of buns,</p> +<p class="i2">And loved their fine old "crusty."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>This sere and yellow poesy</p> +<p class="i2">Faint draws its sickly breath,</p> +<p>And—doctors say—Society</p> +<p class="i2">Will soon acclaim its death:</p> +<p>No stone upon its grave we'll place,</p> +<p class="i2">But tea-pots at each corner—</p> +<p>Fair Waitress, you the scene shall grace</p> +<p class="i2">As chief, and only, mourner.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 420px;"><a href="images/178a-800.png"><img src="images/178a-360.png" width="360" height="475" alt="Le 'Yellow Book'" /></a> + +<p>"<span class="sc">M. Hanotaux</span>, Minister of Foreign Affairs, will shortly have +distributed in the Chamber and the Senate a <i>Yellow Book</i> relative to the conventions +recently concluded between France and Great Britain for the delimitation of +their respective possessions on the West Coast of Africa."</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Our Artist could not be restrained from designing a Cover, which we +respectfully offer to M. Hanotaux.</i></p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>The Jabez is Coming.</h3> + +<div class="poem width21"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>The <span class="sc">Jabez</span> is coming! Oh dear! how queer!</p> +<p>Is <span class="sc">Jabez</span> a-coming? What cheer? what cheer?</p> +<p>There's nothing much left though to hear We fear.</p> +<p>We'll believe he has come when he's here.</p> +<p class="i16">Hear! Hear!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="ind2"><span class="sc">Note by a Highly Cultivated +but Unsuccessful Dramatist.</span>—About +the most fatal +opinion that can be given on any +play is to say that "it <i>reads</i> +well." A play that is "a treat +to read" is, as a rule, utter boredom +to see; for in proportion to +the success in the study is, in the +majority of cases, the failure on +the stage.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="ind1"><span class="sc">Gamp Triumphant, and Justice +to an Old Friend at +last!!</span>—In the <cite>Times'</cite> "Court +Circular" lately appeared the +information that "<i>Mrs. Harris +had the honour of dining with +the Queen yesterday</i>." Now, +and henceforth, the immortal +Mrs. <span class="sc">Gamp</span>, rising "morally and +physically," can denounce any +"bage creetur" who would dare +to repeat Mrs. <span class="sc">Prig's</span> "memorable +and tremendous words," +spoken of Mrs. <span class="sc">Harris</span>, the dear +friend of "<span class="sc">Sairey</span>," "I don't +believe there's no sich a person."</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>ANACREONTICS FOR ALL.</h3> + +<p class="title1">SWIG UP THIS (COCOA) CUP!</p> + +<p class="title2"><span class="sc">Air</span>—"<cite>Drink of this Cup.</cite>"</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 150px;"><a href="images/178b-300.png"><img src="images/178b-150.png" width="150" height="256" alt="Drink of this Cup." /></a></div> + +<div class="poem width27"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Swig up this cup—you will find there's a spell in</p> +<p class="i2">Its depths for the ills and the aches of mortality.</p> +<p>Drink! Of dyspepsia's dire woes you'll be well in</p> +<p class="i2">A Yankee split second! (No fudge, but reality).</p> +<p>Would you forget wine, or whiskey, or gin?</p> +<p class="i2">Only skim off the film that will gather a-top of it,</p> +<p>('Tis merely the milk in coagulate skin,)</p> +<p class="i2">Then stir it up briskly and drain every drop of it!</p> +<p class="i16">Swig up this cup, &c.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Never was nectar-cup brewed with such power,</p> +<p class="i2">Or philtre; while <em>here</em> nought to injure or hurt is meant.</p> +<p>Of Cocoa this is the pure pick and fine flower.</p> +<p class="i2">There's no starch or fat in it (<i>vide</i> Advertisement!).</p> +<p>They who with this have their stomachs well filled,</p> +<p class="i2">Are proof against hunger, fatigue, and bad weather.</p> +<p>This wonderful draught is not brewed or distilled,</p> +<p class="i2">But it licks all the liquors and cordials together.</p> +<p class="i16">Swig up this cup, &c.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And though, perhaps,—but oh! breathe it to no one!—</p> +<p class="i2">'Tis stodgy and runs to obesity awfully.</p> +<p>If you've <em>no</em> coat to your tum-tum, you'll grow one!</p> +<p class="i2">(The rival advertisements tell us so—jawfully.)</p> +<p>What though it tasteth insipid and tame?</p> +<p class="i2">When tea is taboo, and when coffee's forbidden,</p> +<p>Try cocoa from—well, let each fill up the <em>name</em>,</p> +<p class="i2">There are fifty at least, and their light is <em>not</em> hidden!</p> +<p class="i16">Swig up this cup, &c.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>So swig up the cup of—each "'Tiser" is telling</p> +<p class="i2">In every paper, with great actuality,</p> +<p>The fame of <em>his</em> brand, with much swagger and swelling,</p> +<p class="i2">Other ads. may be fiction, but <em>his</em> is reality.</p> +<p>So swig up the cup when you breakfast, tea, sup,</p> +<p class="i2">Of so-and-so's (string of superlatives) cocoa!</p> +<p>(I'd "give it a name," but I daren't try <em>that</em> game,</p> +<p class="i2">For fear of severe (editorial) Toko).</p> +<p class="i16">Swig up this cup, &c.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 120px;"><a href="images/178c-390.png"><img src="images/178c-120.png" width="120" height="122" alt="Latest From Paris." /></a></div> + +<p class="ind"><span class="sc">Latest From Paris.</span>—"<span class="sc">Moore</span> of Moore Hall, with nothing at +at all," has <em>not</em> "slain," nor has he +"foughten with," nor given any kind of +"satisfaction" to, the Dragon of Wantley, +represented (as the incident is to be +"relegated to the realms of comic opera") +on this occasion by the Wictorious +"<span class="sc">Whistler</span> Coon." It is, however, +reported that the impressionist artist, +animated by the sportsmanlike desire of +getting a shot at something or somebody, +the <span class="sc">McNeil</span>, or <span class="sc">Jacques le Siffleur</span>, +would like to engage a Moore for the +shooting season. The most recent wire +reports, "No Moore at present. <span class="sc">J. McN. W.</span>" And, probably, here +closes the incident.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Last Week's Business.</span>—Everything very much up in the City—especially +the pavement in Cannon Street.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page179" id="page179"></a>[pg 179]</span></p> + +<h2>"TO PARIS AND BACK FOR NOTHING."</h2> + +<p class="title1">(<i>To the Editor of "Punch."</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Sir</span>,—A most excellent institution, run on moral lines, has recently +been advertising "A tour on the Continent" for £5. This modest sum +is to cover travelling and hotel expenses, and no doubt has been +worked out on the most virtuous principles. In these days of rapid +progress, however, we can never stand still, and the question arises, +Cannot the holiday be cheapened? I contend it can, and as your +paper represents the human race in general and the British public in +particular, I desire to make known my discovery through your +columns. Of course "Trips for nothing"—the journeys I wish to +organise—cannot be managed without a little thought and arrangement. +For my purpose it is best not to insist too harshly upon the +importance of truth and honesty. After all, both these words represent +abstract ideas, that may be necessary for publication, but need not be +absolutely accepted as a guarantee of good faith.</p> + +<p>Without further preface I jot down my programme. Say that a +would-be traveller without means desires to visit the Capital of +France gratuitously. I would have him present himself at the +Victoria Station garbed in the uniform of a guard. The necessary +costume, on application, would be supplied to him by one of the +agents of the Unprincipled Touring Company—the institution it is +my aim to establish. Just as the night mail was starting for Dover +he would enter the luggage-van, and then all would be clear until he +reached Paris. He would accompany the boxes and portmanteaus to +Calais, and be transferred (being registered) to the Chemin de Fer du +Nord, and remain undisturbed until he reached the terminus.</p> + +<p>On coming out of the van he would be met by one of the agents of +the Unprincipled Touring Company, and be accused of being a spy. +This would immediately secure his arrest and safe custody in a +Parisian police-station. The agent, having played his part, would +disappear. It would now become the duty (and I trust the pleasure) +of the would-be traveller to look after himself without further +assistance. He would appeal to the British Ambassador. He would +tell his simple tale, how he had been drugged and conveyed in a state +of coma to the luggage-van; how he had no money, and had been +so affected by the narcotics, that his mind had become a perfect blank. +The British Minister would, doubtless, secure his release, and supply +him with funds. He would see some of the cheaper sights for which +Paris is celebrated, and then return home by an inexpensive route, +highly delighted with his adventures.</p> + +<p>It will doubtless occur, in this practical age, to persons having even +the most moderate amount of brains, that hitherto the profits of the +Unprincipled Touring Company have remained unmentioned. +"Where do they come in?" will be the universal question. My +answer is simply, "Hush money." The would-be traveller, having +availed himself of the services of the proposed organisation, would, +for the remainder of his existence, be under an obligation to pay as +much as he could conveniently (or even inconveniently) spare to a +society which had secured for him so much semi-innocent recreation.</p> + +<p>It may be advanced by ultra purists that the system of business +that would be inaugurated by the U. T. C. would be immoral. To +this I triumphantly reply, not more immoral than other systems in +full working order in many companies of the highest respectability +compatible with limited liability.</p> + +<p class="author1">I remain, yours respectfully,</p> +<p class="author"><span class="sc">A Promising Promoter</span>.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>WHICH IS THE CORRECT CARD?</h3> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 120px;"><a href="images/179a-330.png"><img src="images/179a-100.png" width="100" height="141" alt="" /></a></div> + +<p>In <i>The Theatre</i>, a "review and magazine" most useful as well as +entertaining to all interested in the drama at home and abroad, +there appears, in the critical notice of what is just now successful on +the Parisian stage, a short account of a piece +called <i>M. le Directeur</i>. "<i>It is</i>," says the +writer, "<i>an amusing but not very savoury +skit upon the life of the petty official, and +the advantage taken by the head of a public +office to subserve his amorous propensities in +the management of his department and the +promotion of his subordinates</i>." Quite evident +from this what sort of a farcical comedy +it must be. This appears at p. 238. But at +p. 246, among "The Echoes from the Green +Room," we find that this piece, <i>M. le Directeur</i>, +which is at present "drawing all Paris +to the Vaudeville Theatre, is certainly one of +the most amusing plays," &c. &c., "<i>and it +depends for its success more upon genuine +humour and innocently comic incident than upon salaciousness of +situation or untranslatable wit</i>." Which of these accounts of the +same play is the correct one?</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/179b-800.png"><img src="images/179b-350.png" width="350" height="485" alt="THE JOYS OF ANTICIPATION." /></a> +<h3 class="sans">THE JOYS OF ANTICIPATION.</h3> + +<p>"<span class="sc">When are you coming out with me, Mummy?</span>"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Not this Morning, Darling, I've too much to do!</span>"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Oh, but you <i>must</i>, Mummy. I've already put it in my +new Diary that you <i>did!</i></span>"</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2 class="sans">ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + +<p class="title1">EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</p> + +<p><i>House of Commons, Monday, April 1.</i>—There is about <span class="sc">John Aird</span> +an artlessness of look and manner the price whereof is beyond rubies. +<span class="sc">Sark</span> fancies it is the beard that has much to do with it. When you +get a man light-hearted as a boy endowed with long grey beard, complications +certain to ensue. <span class="sc">Aird's</span> beard has precisely same preternaturally +proper look whether he is sitting in parish church listening +to sermon, or dancing a hornpipe on the white deck of the P. & O. +<i>Caledonia</i>. Only he dances better than the average rector preaches.</p> + +<p>Just the man to take part in the old Parliamentary game known as +asking friendly question. Usually played with Minister taking a +hand. If Treasury Bench wants to bring out some fact or appearance +of fact Whip gets Member on back bench to put question on +subject. Pretty to see Minister on such occasions; his startled look +on hearing himself addressed; his glance round to see if this is really +his hon. friend who is presuming to trouble him with what might be +awkward inquiry; then his slow, almost hesitating answer which +effectually corrects a calumny or nips a slander i' th' bud.</p> + +<p>To-night, in view of pending division on second reading Welsh +Disestablishment Bill it was felt desirable to produce effect of overwhelming +national indignation at threatened spoliation of the Church. +Since Bill introduced petitions against it been dribbling in from +teeming population of English hamlets sternly saying This thing +shall not be. Apart from political importance of question, petitions +have peculiar interest as revealing existence of unknown clusters of +cottage homes. <span class="sc">Thomas Hardy</span> never invented such quaint, charming +names as the industry of compilers of petitions against this Bill +have brought to light. St. Dogmaels, St. Twynnel's, Pattiswick, +Neen Sollars, Chittlehamholt, Hampton Poyle. Woodeaton, Pawler's +Pury, Abbey Dore, Penwortham, Lillingstone Lovell, Crockham Hill, +Weston-under-Penyard, Itchen Stoke, Dunton Green—names musical +with the sound of church bells, sweet with the scent of newly mown +hay, the breath of cowslips.</p> + +<p>This upheaval of the people on behalf of Mother Church loses its +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page180" id="page180"></a>[pg 180]</span> +effect by reason of ordinary procedure whereby petitions presented +at the Table are straightway thrust into a sack, and carted off to a +lumber room. Thing to do was to get Member to publicly inquire +from Chairman of Petitions Committee how the matter stood in the +ledger; how many petitions against Bill, how many in favour. +Who could do this better than <span class="sc">John Aird</span>? So he put question to +<span class="sc">Dalrymple</span>, and learned with dramatically ill-concealed surprise +that whilst over a thousand petitions against the Bill have poured in +on the House, not one had been received in its favour. It is true +that another question from opposite side of House brought out fact +that at least one of these State documents was result of labours of +wife of Clerk to Guardians of St. Asaph Union, who had been +instrumental in obtaining the unbiassed opinion of the resident +paupers on question at issue. But that a mere detail.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Second Reading Welsh Disestablishment Bill +carried by majority of 44 in House of 564 Members. "<i>Clwych! +Clwych!</i>" roared <span class="sc">Mabon</span>, and was with difficulty restrained from +singing "<i>The March of the Men of Harlech</i>."</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—Evidently in for another dull time. Welsh Disestablishment +Bill off, enter Irish Land Bill. Time precious; business pressing; +every quarter of hour worth a Chancellor of the Exchequer's +ransom. Ministers anxious above all things to get along with +business. <span class="sc">John Morley</span>, accordingly, sets useful example by delivering +speech an hour and twenty minutes long. This, as he mentioned, +followed upon exorbitant demands on patience of House +when he introduced the Bill. <span class="sc">Carson</span>, not to be outdone, certainly +not to be blamed, took up about as much time. Later came <span class="sc">St. +John Brodrick</span>, astonished at his own moderation in speaking for +only seventy minutes.</p> + +<p>"This is not debating," <span class="sc">Sark</span> says. "It is just making speeches +by the yard. Hasn't the remotest effect upon the human mind, still +less upon deliberate action of House. Isn't even pretence of a fight; +second reading will be passed without division; Bill will go to +Committee in precisely same state as would have been the case had +it been read a second time before dinner, and Members spent rest of +evening in bosom of their families. Towards end of Session there will +be complaint of nothing done. At least Treasury Bench mustn't lift +up its voice in reproach at such conclusion. If right hon. gentlemen +set us such evil example, they mustn't complain if we follow it."</p> + +<p>House in desolate state throughout spirit-sapping performance. +<span class="sc">Tim Healy</span> sat it all out. Contributed almost only token of life to +the dull monotony. In dangerously explosive state. If anybody +had sat on safety-valve would have burst to dead certainty. Happily +got off a few life-saving grunts and groans. Played sort of chorus to +<span class="sc">Carson's</span> speech and <span class="sc">Brodrick's</span> monologue. They severely +ignored +him—treatment which had no effect on his exuberance of spirits.</p> + +<p>"Who are these Irish owners," <span class="sc">Brodrick</span> asked, looking severely +across table at <span class="sc">John Morley</span>, "who want to buy their tenants' +interest in order to sell it at a higher price?"</p> + +<p>"I'll give you their names," cried <span class="sc">Tim</span>, after the fashion of the +naughty boy safe at the outer edge of a crowd.</p> + +<p>"I defy the right hon. +gentleman to produce a +single instance," <span class="sc">Brodrick</span> +continued, taking no notice +of <span class="sc">Tim</span>.</p> + +<p>"I'll give you half a +dozen," shouted <span class="sc">Tim</span>, ever +ready to oblige, though +leaving it in doubt whether +the half dozen he offered +were lashes or other instances. +Then the policeman, +in shape of <span class="sc">Speaker</span>, +appeared on scene, and for +awhile there was silence on +the back benches, and dullness +regained its sway.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Second +Reading Irish Land Bill +moved.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"><a href="images/180a-540.png"><img src="images/180a-150.png" width="150" height="204" alt="Campbell-Bannerman and his National" /></a> +<p>Campbell-Bannerman and his National +Emblem (Unsuited to the Convenience of +a Button-hole).</p></div> + +<p><span class="sc">Thursday.</span>—For illustration of soft answer that +turneth away wrath, <span class="sc">Cawmel-Bannerman's</span> +reply just now on the shamrock incident perfect in its way. +The heart of Ireland stirred by fresh stories of how her +sons, turning up on parade on St. Patrick's Day proudly wearing +shamrock, were ordered by brutal Saxon officers to "fling it on the +ground." <span class="sc">Tim Healy</span> had cases brought under his notice. Never +do for this branch of United Ireland to appear as sole champion of +national rights in this matter. So wearisome <span class="sc">Willie Redmond</span> +swaggers on scene with another case.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;"><a href="images/180b-700.png"><img src="images/180b-200.png" width="200" height="308" alt="T. W. Russell between Landlord and Tenant." /></a> +<p>T. W. Russell between Landlord and Tenant.</p></div> + +<p>A delicate subject for <span class="sc">Secretary of State for War</span> to handle. +On one hand, discipline must be maintained. On the other, national +sentiment must not be affronted, especially when represented +in House by sufficient votes to turn the scale in +any division. <span class="sc">Cawmel-Bannerman</span> not only said right +thing, but said it in right way. "I myself," he murmured +with prettily apologetic air, "stand in a somewhat neutral position, +because I belong to a country whose national emblem does not +lend itself to the convenience of the button-hole."</p> + +<p>House laughed at idea of <span class="sc">Cawmel-Bannerman</span> +bustling in on St. Andrew's Day with bunch of thistles +in his button-hole. With the laugh the battle was won; +what might have been in less skilful hands an awkward +incident passed off amid genial laughter.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Still explaining why we are not going +to oppose Second Reading Irish Land Bill, though we regard it as +most revolutionary and dangerous measure of recent times.</p> + +<p><i>Friday.</i>—Second reading Irish Land Bill through at last. Passed +stage without division, which seems odd considering apprehension +with which Opposition regard it. Situation largely due to <span class="sc">Boanerges +Russell</span>, one of few men who understand Bill. Explained it in +luminous speech, like some others thrown away on scanty audience. +<span class="sc">Boanerges</span> later indicated his impartial attitude by seating himself +between landlord and tenant, represented by <span class="sc">Joseph</span> of Birmingham +and son <span class="sc">Austen</span>. <span class="sc">Joe</span> incidentally mentions he has only one +tenant, that is <span class="sc">Austen</span>, "who," he added, with plaintive note, +which found echo with the Irish landlords, "pays no rent, and is +always coming down on me for compensation."</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Irish Land Bill read second time.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>LITERARY "FOOD AND FEEDING."</h3> + +<p class="ind">The present generation affirms that it cannot away with <i>Pickwick</i>, +and is not attracted by <i>Vanity Fair</i>. The balance of modern +opinion would be rather in favour of <span class="sc">Thackeray</span> than of +<span class="sc">Dickens</span>. +Take, for example, the two works already quoted, <i>Pickwick</i> and +<cite>Vanity Fair</cite>. A common modern objection made to <cite>Pickwick</cite> is, +that the characters in <i>Pickwick</i> are perpetually guttling or imbibing, +or both simultaneously. This is, to a certain extent, true. But how +about <span class="sc">Thackeray's</span> characters in <cite>Vanity Fair?</cite> A careful student +has sent us a list of the numerous eatings and drinkings in both +novels. In <cite>Pickwick</cite>, reckoning from the brandy-and-water partaken +of by <i>Mr. Jingle</i>, at the Pickwickians' expense, after the scene +with the pugnacious hackney-coachman, and finishing with the +breakfast that celebrated the marriage of <i>Mr. Snodgrass</i> with <i>Miss +Emily Wardle</i>, there are exactly (so we are informed) one hundred +and one instances of drinking and eating; some of them being of +drinking only, unqualified.</p> + +<p class="ind">In <cite>Vanity Fair</cite>, from the introduction of <i>Miss Pinkerton's</i> +"seed cake," to <i>Becky</i> taking <i>Amelia</i> a cup of tea, <i>vide</i> +chapter +sixty-seven, we learn, on the same authority, that there are one +hundred and fifteen cases "allowed for refreshment" in some form +or other.</p> + +<p class="ind">A collection of the meals of heroes and heroines in the most popular +works of fiction, and <i>menus</i> compiled therefrom, might be found +interesting, especially if carefully criticised by Sir <span class="sc">Henry Thompson</span> +in a separate chapter to be added to the next edition of his really +invaluable work, namely, <i>Food and Feeding</i>. Do the modern +novelists feed their characters as plentifully as did <span class="sc">Dickens</span> and +<span class="sc">Thackeray</span> theirs? Be this as it may, these two great Twin +Brethren—so utterly dissimilar in every thing except in the possession +of the gift of genius—fed their readers well and bountifully.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44706 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/44706-h/images/169a-1500.png b/44706-h/images/169a-1500.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3d0e77d --- /dev/null +++ b/44706-h/images/169a-1500.png diff --git a/44706-h/images/169a-600.png b/44706-h/images/169a-600.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c622ed6 --- /dev/null +++ b/44706-h/images/169a-600.png diff --git a/44706-h/images/169b-150.png b/44706-h/images/169b-150.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4cfd687 --- /dev/null +++ b/44706-h/images/169b-150.png diff --git a/44706-h/images/169b-320.png b/44706-h/images/169b-320.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e080f48 --- /dev/null +++ b/44706-h/images/169b-320.png 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