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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 108,
+April 20, 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. 108, April 20, 1895
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Sir Francis Burnand
+
+Release Date: January 19, 2014 [EBook #44707]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, APRIL 20, 1895 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Lesley Halamek and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+
+Volume 108, APRIL 20, 1895.
+
+_edited by Sir Francis Burnand_
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: IMPROVING THE SHINING HOUR.
+
+_The New Governess._ "WHAT ARE THE COMPARATIVE AND SUPERLATIVE OF
+_BAD_, BERTY?"
+
+_Berty_ (_the Doctor's son_). "BAD--WORSE--DEAD!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A CHINO-JAPANESE CALENDAR.
+
+(_For the next Ten Years._)
+
+1895. Treaty of peace signed between China and Japan, on the basis of
+the opening up of Chinese territory and introduction of machinery
+into the Celestial Empire. The Japanese prophesy that the compact will
+ultimately prove to be for the benefit of the Chinese.
+
+1896. Japan floods China with home-made merchants, who obtain an
+enormous trade.
+
+1897. England, America and France follow suit, and, after a pause, the
+remainder of the civilized world adopt the prevailing fashion.
+
+1898. Japanese China becomes over-populated, thanks to the foreign
+invasion, and there is much discontent amongst the original
+inhabitants.
+
+1899. The foreigners, having secured all the possible trade that could
+be obtained, commence the erection of manufactories.
+
+1900. Japanese China challenges Birmingham, Glasgow, Lyons, and
+Marseilles on their own ground, and holds its own. It claims to be one
+of the most productive places on the face of the universe.
+
+1901. The introduction of machinery having thrown the teeming millions
+of Japanese China out of work, there is great discontent amongst them.
+
+1902. An enterprising citizen of the United States of America
+projects an emigration scheme for supplying the outer world with the
+superfluous population of Japanese China.
+
+1903. The scheme of the citizen of the U. S. A. proves a great
+success, and sixty millions of Chino-Japanese are conveyed to the two
+worlds, the old and the new.
+
+1904. The original inhabitants of Europe and America, undersold by the
+Chino-Japanese, are ousted from their positions and left without work.
+Consequently, great prosperity of the Chino-Japanese.
+
+1905. Fulfilment of the prophecy, that the treaty of peace between
+China and Japan signed in 1895 was "really for the benefit of the
+Chinese."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+WON'T WASH!
+
+_Or, The British Laundress's Lament._
+
+    [There is talk of a company for taking our laundry-work over
+    to Holland, washing it there, and returning it to the owners
+    at a less cost than it can be done for at home.]
+
+  In matters of laundry the fault of them Dutch,
+  Is charging too little, and grabbing too much!
+  They'd collar our collars, cut off with our shirts!
+  The heart of a true washerwoman it hurts
+  To think of Frows taking _our_ time-honoured tub.
+  What, travel to Holland to get rub and scrub,
+  While soap and strong arms may in Britain be found?
+  It's worse than them Stores! Furrineers may be found
+  To do dirty work on the cheap, I've no doubt;
+  But can old JOHN BULL know just what he's about
+  In sending our work from his shores in _this_ way?
+  I'm sure it won't wash, and I 'ope it won't pay!
+  Shall we to Mynheer and his frowsy Frow truckle,
+  While one English woman has arm, wrist, and knuckle?
+  Forbid it, my sisters! My patriot 'eart
+  Is up in my mouth at this ojus new start.
+  There is an old proverb, and what do it say?
+  It is the true laundress's motter, I say.
+  But what in the world to JOHN BULL can 'ave come
+  If he can't _wash his own dirty linen at 'ome_?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A MISMANAGED ACCIDENT.
+
+Have just discovered that the pretty girl I met at the dance the other
+night is a lady nurse at Charing Cross Hospital. Such a nice girl!
+What a charming nurse she must be! Almost wish I was laid up at the
+hospital. In fact, quite wish it. But I can't be. Another outrage
+on the miserable, downtrodden, middle class. If I were one of the
+fortunate, pampered masses, a Working Man, I should be nursed by her,
+if I were ill, and by others, perhaps, like her. Stay! There is
+a chance. If I could be damaged in an accident--not too much
+damaged--and carried to the hospital, they must look after me, and
+nurse me. They couldn't help themselves. Northumberland Avenue--the
+very place! Never cross it without being nearly run over.
+
+Go straight there and look eagerly for the usual rushing hansoms.
+Here's one. Stroll in front of it. Driver pulls aside, shouts and
+swears at me, and goes on. Reflect that some caution is necessary. If
+the wheel went over my neck, even her ministrations would be useless.
+Must be run over judiciously. Better only be knocked down. Stroll
+across road again. Here comes one. Shouts from driver. A large splash
+of mud in my eye. And that's all. These cabmen drive so absurdly well.
+They pull up, or pull aside, or pull somewhere instantly. Wipe my eye,
+and then see something better. Old lady's brougham, from the suburbs,
+driven by the sort of coachman who also works in the garden. He won't
+be able to pull aside quickly. Stroll in front of horse. Shouts from
+gardening coachman. Horse nearly on me. Suddenly pulled back by fussy
+policeman, who says I had a narrow escape. Hang the fellow, of course
+I did! Am obliged to give him ten shillings for his prompt action.
+Begin to despair of this accident. Stroll on nearly to Embankment.
+Immense van coming along at a trot. Much too heavy. I should be
+smashed flat. And this driver seems to want to run over me. Escape
+with difficulty by jumping aside. At that moment something hits my
+legs, I am thrown down, and a wheel passes over my foot. It is a
+costermonger's donkey-cart which was racing the van. How ignominious!
+To be knocked down by a donkey and run over by a truck! Very painful
+too. Feel as if I should faint. Picked up by sympathetic people who
+rush to me. Say feebly to them, "Take me to the hospital." Then faint.
+
+After a short time open my eyes. Am being carried in somewhere. At
+last! I shall forget the pain. I am in the hospital. She will nurse
+me! _She_--oh, heavens! Though I have planned it all, suppose I ought
+to murmur, "Where am I?" Do so. "In St. Thomas's Hospital," says
+somebody.
+
+_A fortnight later._--And I am in it still.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+According to a paragraph last week in the _Westminster Gazette_,
+quoting from the _Australian Review of Reviews_, it appears that the
+Earl of YARMOUTH has been making a sensation in the Colonies as a
+"Skirt-dancer." Queer fish this nobleman! belongs to the Bloater
+Aristocracy.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A NOBLE PLUNGER.--One day last week in the _Times_ appeared an article
+headed "_Lord Rayleigh on Waves_." Rather early for sea-bathing, eh?
+Evidently so, such prominence having been given to the fact by the
+leading journal.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "BETTER LATE THAN NEVER.
+
+_Mr. Punch_ (_welcoming Miss Spring-time_). 'GLAD TO SEE YOU, MY DEAR!
+BEGAN TO THINK YOU WERE NEVER COMING!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "ANIMAL SPIRITS."
+
+No. XI.--AFTER BANK HOLIDAY.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"BETTER LATE THAN NEVER."
+
+_Mr. Punch to Miss Spring_:--
+
+  Well, here you are at last, dear! _Are_ the biting blizzards past, dear?
+    And _will_ you guarantee us from subjection to the plumber?
+  Will no casual icy splinter from the serried spears of Winter
+    Put a chill upon your smile, and spoil the promise of the Summer?
+  We've been waiting worn and weary, till e'en cuckoo-songs sound cheery,
+    And belated almond-blossoms show like roses of Cashmere:
+  And the cockney chaunt now flowing, "All-a-blowing _and_ a-growing!"
+    Falls far sweeter than MASCAGNI upon London's longing ear.
+  Where on earth have you been hiding? We are in no mood for chiding,
+    But mid-April's _rather_ late, dear, for what should have come in March!
+  What malignant hocus-pocus has kept back the plucky crocus,
+    Whose gold is scarce yet bursting from the beds the winds still parch?
+  After that six weeks cold snap, dear, of fast frozen pipe and tap, dear,
+    When back to barbarism and to bathlessness fate drove us,
+  And we sicklier grew, and surlier, if you'd come a _leetle_ earlier,--
+    Well, let bygones now be bygones! But O Spring sweet! an you love us,
+  Come--at last, dear--_a la_ HERRICK, with such influence atmospheric
+    As will slay the Influenza; with such fragrance from your flowers,
+  As will knock Malaria silly; let your dear daffydown-dilly
+    From our bodies drive bacilli, and the blight from out our bowers.
+  Slay our Microbes, Spring, and bless us! Like a clinging Shirt of Nessus
+    Morbid sickliness surrounds us in our lives, our books, our art.
+  Oh, if sunshine and your breezes might but slay our soul-diseases,
+    Oust the pestilent miasma that pervades the home, the mart;
+  Neutralise the nauseous virus whose developments so tire us;
+    Disinfect the New Parnassus, purge the New Pierian Spring,
+  Bring us honesty and health, dear, why for all our wit and wealth, dear,
+    We might love like Nature's lovers, and like Nature's poets sing.
+  Ah! we need Spring's prophylactic!--But I'm getting too didactic
+    For a sunny April morning, and a sweet young thing like you.
+  My dear, the London Season, wrapped and furred out of all reason,
+    Has been waiting, decked like Winter, with a nose-tip nearly blue;
+  Waiting, waiting for your coming. Sweet as bees in clover humming
+    Is the first sound of your footfall. Most spontaneous of passions
+  Is the love for you, you darling. You will bring the thrush and starling,
+    And the young leaves and the young lambs, and, what's better--
+      _the Spring Fashions_!!!
+  So no wonder that she greets you with effusion when she meets you.
+    Ah, Spring! 'tis not your lilacs, and your daffodils and stocks,
+  Or the tender leaves the trees on, that most moves Miss London Season,
+    'Tis the hope of "rippin'" frolics and the thought of "trotty" frocks.
+  But an old man's heart, my treasure, beats to quite another measure,
+    Still my sympathies, dear Spring, are with the youngsters and with you.
+  They are looking for love's playtime, and the merry, merry May-time,
+    And the popular R.A. time, and the whole tohu-bohu!
+  Bring the girls delights as dowry, may their social paths be flowery,
+    And your silver drops the only tears they need to look upon.
+  So they're wholesome, may they flourish; and may all Spring influence nourish
+    True manhood and pure womanhood, and--there, my preaching's done!
+  We need a true _Spring Clean_, sweet. Give us parks and gardens green, sweet.
+    And laughter, like your bird-songs pure, un-satyr-like, though clever,
+  Bless our boys, our girls, our babies, yes--_and bring us back our JABEZ_,
+    And we'll pardon your delay, and say 'tis better late than never!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OPPORTUNITY LOST BY MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS DURING A RECENT CASE WHEN
+HIS LORDSHIP MIGHT HAVE PUT IT TO THE JURY.--"Gentlemen, what is the
+difference, or, as there has been no quarrel, let us say what is the
+distinction between a costumier and a butcher anxious to arrange his
+shop-front to the best advantage? Gentlemen, I will not detain you,
+it is this: The costumier meets out the dresses; the butcher 'dresses
+out' the meats. Gentlemen, you are discharged."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+TO CHARITABLE CHESS-PLAYERS.--A good move at Easter time is--"cheque
+to his Bishop."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BLIND ALLEY-GORIES.
+
+BY DUNNO WAeHRIAR.
+
+(_Translated from the original Lappish by Mr. Punch's own Hyperborean
+Enthusiast._)
+
+INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
+
+IT affords me no ordinary gratification to be the humble instrument in
+rendering these exquisitely obscure prose-poems--reeking as they
+are with the self-consciousness of so magnificently triumphant
+an Ego--into the English tongue, though I am fully aware of the
+difficulty of preserving all the mystical unintelligibility of the
+original.
+
+DUNNO WAeHRIAR is perhaps the most remarkable personality that his
+native Lapland has yet produced. He first saw the light on April 1,
+1879, at Kandalax, so that he may still be called comparatively young.
+His impressionable, sensitive soul broke out in early revolt against
+the train-oil and tallow which formed the traditionary nutriment of
+his family circle, and in 1883 we find him casting off the shackles
+of conventionality and escaping to Sweden in his sledge-perambulator.
+There he has lived ever since, and has already secured a foremost
+place among the greatest physiological psychologists of Scandinavia.
+As a morbid pathologist, he surpasses STRINDBERG; while in neurotic
+sensitivism, he has hustled HANSSON into a back seat; easily
+beaten BJOeRNSON in diagnosis of the elusive emotions; and taken the
+indigestible cake of slack-baked symbolism from the master hand
+of IBSEN himself! Small wonder, then, that the commonest penwiper
+containing issues from his pen is eagerly sought after by admirers of
+such effusions.
+
+He belongs ('tis true) to the Literary Upper Crust, and is for the few
+rather than the many; while so absolute has been his fidelity to the
+principles of his art, that he has published every one of his works at
+a considerable pecuniary loss.
+
+Need I say more to ensure for him that respectful admiration which the
+public is ever ready to lavish upon anything they fail to understand?
+
+Let me rather efface myself and leave DUNNO WAeHRIAR--or "Young
+GARNAWAY," as is his self-adopted pseudonym--to unfold the rhythmic
+charm of his own inimitable incomprehensibility.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BLIND ALLEY-GORY THE FIRST.
+
+THE LOST BACKBONE.
+
+One summer evening, when the moon was at the full, and cloud-shadows
+glided imperceptibly over the chimney-pots, as curses that have found
+no utterance and come dejectedly home to roost, I wandered into my
+back-garden, and caught the God of the Period napping in the moonshine
+on one of my celery-beds.
+
+He rose up suddenly and reposed awhile in space, with his head resting
+on the back of the Great Bear, and one foot on the arm of Cassiopeia's
+Chair, while with the other he skimmed the cream off the Milky Way.
+And he seemed to be everywhere and yet nowhere in particular, and
+he said nothing, and I was afraid to make a remark--and there was no
+sound, save that of the boundless, inconceivable silence which was
+rumbling round the corner.
+
+Presently he came down to the celery-bed once more.
+
+"What are you seeking for so late?" asked he; "your face looks so long
+and solemn, and your eyes are hollow and full of woe. Have you been
+having anything indigestible for supper?"
+
+"I am in trouble about Humanity," I replied; "for, though I loathe and
+despise them individually, collectively I love them dearly."
+
+"What's the matter with Humanity?" asked the God, as he squatted amid
+the celery.
+
+"They are growing so deadly dull," I answered. "I am Young GARNAWAY,
+the Pessimistic Prose Poet, and it pains me to see how utterly they
+have lost their perception of the ridiculous, which is the backbone of
+real enjoyment. So I came out to see if by any chance the backbone was
+hidden under one of the flower-pots."
+
+The Period-God once more pervaded the endless space that glittered in
+darkling infinitude round about and right ahead of him. It seemed to
+me, when he returned, that he had been laughing; but suddenly I saw
+him pull himself together, and frown.
+
+And from afar a gurgling rose through the gloom, and darkness fell
+upon my back-garden, knocking a basilisk off the waterbutt, and above
+the garden-walls there appeared a crowd of rude persons, in pot hats,
+with red lolling tongues and wide grinning mouths, holding their sides
+with inextinguishable mirth. All at once the giggles turned into the
+booing of Philistines, and there was a fantastic shadowy horseplay,
+which rolled nearer and nearer.
+
+I saw many myriads of spectral kitten forms, and unsubstantial egg
+shapes rushing towards me through the air. Instinctively I ran indoors
+and gripped the umbrella from its corner, and stood on guard.
+
+[Illustration: "I saw many myriads of spectral kitten forms and
+unsubstantial egg-shapes."]
+
+Then I heard someone chuckling quite close to me, chuckling softly,
+but unmistakably. And the booing hushed, and the gloom lightened, and
+the garden-roller glimmered faintly in the moonlit summer night,
+and inside the lawn-mower lay the God of the Period crying with
+uncontrollable laughter.
+
+"When the time comes," he said, "when mankind gets weary of Paraded
+Pessimism, and the Big Scandinavian Boom has burst, then I will
+conjure forth the Great Guffaw; and _then_ it will be time for all
+Dyspeptic Decadents to get under their umbrellas--just as you did
+awhile ago, for mankind will have recovered its sense of humour, and
+will decline to take them seriously. But you had much better leave off
+bothering your head about that lost backbone, for you won't be happy
+when they get it!"
+
+And while I was taking off my goloshes indoors, I heard again the
+sound of snapping celery sticks, as the Period-God rolled on the bed
+in ecstasies of stifled merriment, and I wondered at intervals what it
+was all about.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FOR OUTWARD APPLICATION.--"'A man may change his skies,' as the Roman
+poet puts it," quoth the _Daily Telegraph_, "but he does not so easily
+change his habits." The Academy is about to open. The pictures will
+soon be hung. Varnishing day comes, with last chance for alteration.
+Then comes in Latin poetic proverb, "A man may change his skies, but,
+do what he will, he cannot alter that peculiar style that marks the
+work as his, and nobody else's."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NEW PROVERB.--All "problem" and no "play" makes drama a dull joy.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: SHOCKING HEATHENISM.
+
+_Rector._ "SO YOU GO UP TO TOWN NEXT MONTH, MISS MARY. HOW I ENVY YOU!
+AND OF COURSE YOU'LL ATTEND THE MAY MEETINGS."
+
+_Miss Mary._ "MAY MEETINGS? OH DEAR NO! THOUGH I ADORE HORSES, I QUITE
+DISAPPROVE OF _RACING_, DON'T YOU KNOW!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+The Baron heartily welcomes the appearance of _Happy Thoughts_ in
+French, under the very attractive style and title of _Fridoline_. No
+fear now of the _entente cordiale_ between England and France being
+disturbed; and that is indeed _une "pensee" la plus "heureuse" ou
+"ingenieuse."_ The dialogue with the patient angler who remains in the
+middle of the stream day after day, and, probably, night after night,
+is quite a little lesson in French.
+
+[Illustration: "Fridoline."]
+
+"_'Pris quelque chose?' 'Rien.' 'Pas mordu du tout?' 'Une fois, je
+crois.' Le pecheur n'a pas perdu son calme, mais son air n'a rien de
+triomphant._"
+
+And the world goes on and the _mouvement_ continues, and ever and anon
+the Happy Thoughter, returning to the river, finds the same man in the
+same boat in almost the same position. Then, before retiring for the
+night, the H. T. takes one turn on the lawn, "_pour m'assurer_," he
+says, "_que je ne laisse rien derriere moi. Ah si! je laisse l'homme
+au bachot, toujours sa ligne en main. Il avait, parait-il, un pen
+redescendu le courant. 'Bonne peche?' 'Non.' 'Pris quelque chose?'
+'Rien.'_" Those who read "_entre les lignes_" may see in this figure
+of unrewarded patience and perseverance more than meets the eye.
+M. AURELIEN DE COURSON has done his work excellently well, "_avec
+l'autorisation de l'auteur_."
+
+I found a book on my table lying among a number of others put aside to
+be read at "a more convenient season." The title attracted me--_Clove
+Pink_. Its leaves are of last autumn, but the story they tell is for
+ever. It is admirably written; its word-painting is the work of a
+true artist: but beginning brightly and gladly, as do the lives of
+the young hero and heroine, it ends sadly but sweetly. If you are not
+averse to a simple, well-told tale, with stirring incidents of modern
+warfare, graphically narrated, that stand out in startling contrast
+to the scenes of quiet English rural life, a story whose pathos and
+simple truth will touch you deeply, read _Clove Pink_, says
+
+  THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+VERY CATCHING.
+
+In the _Times_ of Monday, April 8, appeared an advertisement headed
+"Lent, Lent--Fish, Fish." This meant, of course, that the season was
+Lent, not that the fishmonger was a lender of fish. And for the season
+it was Holy Week, _i.e._ last week of Lent. Then it goes on "_Have you
+ordered your Good Friday's Dinner?_ If not, do so at once." Excellent
+and most timely advice, seeing it was given on the Monday preceding
+Good Friday. So far so good; but then comes "a reason why" which
+apparently quite upsets the kettle of fish. Here is the extract:--
+
+    "Having made contracts with a number of the leading trawl and
+    line fishermen to take the whole of their prime fish caught
+    during Easter week," &c., &c.
+
+[Illustration:
+  "To-morrow will be Fry day,
+  So we'll catch our fish to-day."
+
+             _Somebody's Song._
+]
+
+What on earth is the good of fish caught in Easter Week to the persons
+who have ordered it for the previous Friday? That's where the trouble
+is. The fishmonger is at sea as well as his good fishermen. If the
+advertisement had been headed "Lent and Easter," then it would have
+been evident that two different subjects were being dealt with, and
+"both caught with one fish," as Mrs. R. might say, adapting a proverb.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+TEMPERATE TO INTEMPERATE.
+
+  Fanatic sophistries, I think,
+    To logic's limits will have shrunk,
+  When zealot's recognize that "drink"
+    Is _not_ identical with "drunk."
+  Difference may be as great you see,
+    'Twixt U and I as You and Me!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+WORDSWORTH FOR WITLERS.--"Drink, pretty creature, drink!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: SOCIAL AGONIES.
+
+_Anxious Musician_ (_in a whisper, to Mrs. Lyon Hunter's butler_).
+"WHERE'S MY 'CELLO?"
+
+_Butler_ (_in stentorian tones, to the room_). "SIGNOR WERESMICELLO!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE NEW ENGLISH ART CLUB.
+
+The other day I went to this exhibition of sublime masterpieces. I was
+about to write a few comments, full of strange epithets and gushing
+praise, when a small girl came in with a lady. The child spoke so
+freely that I paused to listen. This was her criticism. "Oh, mother,
+what's that meant for? I can't see anything. Look at that lady! She's
+got no face at all. Oh, look at that other! She's funnier. What is
+she? A Spanish dancer? Do all Spanish dancers have knobbly faces like
+you might make out of a potato? What are those people skating on? Is
+it cotton wool? Oh, mother, look there! What an ugly lady! Why's she
+put all that red on her cheeks? What's all that other red there? Is it
+another lady? A church in Venice? What Olympia where you took me two
+years ago? Oh, mother, it can't be a church! Unless it's upside down.
+Or perhaps all the paints have run into one another like mine do. Oh,
+look! There's a picture of a washstand. Is it an advertisement of a
+furniture shop? Or is it meant for what father calls a slight wash
+in his water-colour drawings? What are those ladies dancing in sheets
+for? Is it sheets they've got on? Oh what a red face that gentleman's
+got! I don't think they paint very pretty ladies or gentlemen here.
+Oh, mother, look at that! Why it's the funniest of all! Who are the
+two ladies? Why are their clothes slipping down? Why are their faces
+all crooked, and their eyes sideways? Are they meant to be pretty? I
+don't think they are. What do you say it is? Meant to be painted on
+the wall of a room? Is that why they look so funny? Why they look like
+Aunt KITTY, when she's going to have a sea bath, and when----" Here
+the little maiden was suddenly dragged out of the room, and her shrill
+voice was heard no more. But her winged words are not forgotten by
+
+  A CRUSHED CRITIC.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+AN EASTER 'OLIDAY.
+
+    (_A Siesta Song, from the Burlesque Opera "Little Liberal
+    Majority," performed at the Theatre Royal, St. Stephen's._)
+
+  AIR--"_Lazily, Drowsily._"
+
+  When gaily dances the Easter sun,
+    And shelved is each bothersome Bill,
+  Then work and talk for a time are done,
+    And the lobbies are hushed and still.
+            Lazily, lazily,
+            Drowsily, drowsily,
+          Home goes every one;
+            Lazily, lazily,
+            Drowsily, drowsily,
+          Under the April sun.
+          Old St. Stephen's closes;
+          Parliament reposes,
+            Lazily, lazily,
+            Drowsily, drowsily,
+          Forty winks, or fun!
+
+  When the sunlight falls on the Heath's green breast,
+    And blue are the skies above,
+  Each seeks the rest that he loves the best,
+    Or the sport he doth chiefly love.
+  Lazily, lazily, drowsily, drowsily,
+    Donkey riding's fun!
+  Lazily, lazily, drowsily, drowsily,
+    Dawdling under the sun!
+    HARCOURT'S eyelid closes,
+    BALFOUR blandly dozes;
+  Lazily, lazily, drowsily, drowsily,
+    Under the Easter sun!
+
+  Joggle and jolt! _These_ mokes won't bolt!
+    Each flops like an empty sack
+  On the broad back, shaggy as Shetland colt.
+    No donkey boy on _their_ track!
+  Lazily, lazily, drowsily, drowsily,
+    Carelessly jogging on!
+  Lazily, lazily, drowsily, drowsily,
+    Under an Easter sun!
+    Lotos-Land discloses
+    No more bland reposes.
+  Lazily, lazily, drowsily, drowsily,
+    Dawdle they under the sun!
+
+  "That LABBY was often a bore!" sighs WILL,
+    Groans ARTY, "And so was JOE!
+  To drive _these_ donkeys demands small skill!
+    Would Westminster mokes were so!
+  Lazily, lazily, drowsily, drowsily!
+    Riding like this is fun!
+  Lazily, lazily, drowsily, drowsily!
+    Bless us! Who _wants_ to run?
+    'Appy 'Ampstead dozes!
+    Mokes are beds of roses!
+  Lazily, lazily, drowsily, drowsily,
+    Jog we--till holiday's done!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"THE OBJECTION TO EUCLID" of which we have heard so much recently is
+of very ancient standing, and is shared by nearly every schoolboy.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+PARLIAMENTARY PROVERB.--There's many a slip 'twixt the M.P. and the
+"Whip"!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: AN EASTER 'OLIDAY.
+
+_Duet_ ('ARCOURT _and_ HARTHUR _sing while being jolted_).
+
+"LA-A-ZI-LY LA-A-ZI-LY! DROW-OW-OW-SILY! DROW-OW-OW-SILY!" &c.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MR. PUNCH AT A PICTURE SHOW.
+
+    (_The Collection of Sir John Tenniel's Drawings at the Fine
+    Art Society's Gallery._)
+
+  AIR.--"_My Old Friend John._"
+
+  'Tis forty years, my dear Sir JOHN,
+    Since you and I first met.
+  Lord, how the fleeting hours have flown!
+    But we foregather yet,
+  I gaze on this brave show with pride--
+    Fine art, still in full feather!
+  By Jove, it seems but yesterday
+    Since we were "boys" together.
+
+  Since we were boys, merry, merry boys,
+    At our old Board together!
+
+  There's gladness in remembrance, JOHN;
+    Your pencil-strokes struck true;
+  Through all the shifts of party life,
+    No pause that pencil knew.
+  We've missed old comrades one by one;
+    Our friendship moults no feather;
+  _Can_ forty years and more have run
+    Since we were "boys" together?
+
+  Since we were boys, merry, merry boys,
+    At our old Board together!
+
+  I gaze and proudly ponder, JOHN;
+    I've seen them all before--
+  GLADSTONE, BRIGHT, DIZZY, BULL!--Well done!!!
+    Fresh as in days of yore
+  The Big Cuts gleam. By sea and stream,
+    Moor, mountain, ice-field, heather.
+  Force, grace, fair fun mark all you've done,
+    Since we were "boys" together.
+
+  _Chorus all "Round the Mahogany Tree."_
+
+  Since we were boys, merry, merry boys!
+    So meet we, in full feather,
+  For many sunny years, Sir JOHN,
+    Still boys--at heart--together!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: FANCY PORTRAIT.
+
+SIR G-RGE L-W-S.
+
+  "BOLD OF YOUR WORTHINESS, WE SINGLE YOU
+  AS OUR BEST-MOVING FAIR SOLICITOR."
+
+  _Love's Labour's Lost_, Act II., Sc. 1.
+]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE LAY OF THE LITTLE MINORITY.
+
+AIR--"_Little Buttercup._"
+
+  I'm bumptious Minority--cocky Minority
+    (Though I can hardly tell why),
+  My work is to worry poor weary Majority,
+    Giving him one in the eye.
+
+  On Board or on Council I swagger and bounce 'll,
+    And badger 'em out of their lives.
+  I claim all the graces, and all the best places;
+    Thus cocky Minority thrives!
+
+  Majorities little of claim have no tittle
+    To getting _their_ own wicked way;
+  But cocky Minority has such authority,
+    _His_ should be absolute sway.
+
+  If things are at evens at--well, say St. Stephen's,
+    Spring Gardens, wherever you like,
+  Tis a mere deadlock (like New Woman wedlock),
+    And against Progress we strike.
+
+  If a Majority (small) claims authority
+    To make the tiniest move,
+  Then to prevent it, obstruct, circumvent it,
+    Must be my labour of love.
+
+  But a Minority's superiority
+    Is just as clear as the day.
+  Majorities (small) have one duty, that's all,
+    'Tis--_to let the Minority sway!_
+
+  Then yield to Minority--cocky Minority,
+    On Boards or of Council or School!
+  Hooray for Minority--bumptious Minority!
+    Come--let Minority rule!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR NEXT LITTLE BATTLE.
+
+(_From our Prophetic Reporter, a trifle in advance._)
+
+NOWHAR, _April 1_.--Wett River crossed yesterday in most brilliant
+style. Dashaway Regiment carried landing at point of bayonet, the
+Muffs keeping up well-directed fire during the entire operation.
+However, they seemed to feel effect of our artillery and Maxims.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+When landing effected, Sapping Miners constructed iron bridge
+(with glass covering to protect the troops from the rain) within
+five-and-twenty minutes. During the construction Muffs fired
+continuously at working parties. Flag-staffs riddled with shot,
+consequently colours could not be run up. A round from couple of
+quick-firing guns cleared heights of human obstructions.
+
+On completion of bridge, two troops of 147th Irregular Prancers
+charged enemy with much dash. As gallant horsemen approached Muffs
+(numbering about twenty thousand) concentrated their fire. For few
+minutes Irregulars had to pass through perfect fog of bullets. This
+ordeal did not damp their courage; soon came to close quarters with
+foe. In a moment Muffs were in confusion, flying, before pursuing
+sabres. Irregulars followed retreating enemy for many miles with
+complete success.
+
+While these operations being carried out 17th Battalion of
+Cutandthrust Regiment made assault on fortress protecting right flank
+of Muffs. Enemy opposed charge with well-sustained artillery fire,
+which had it been more judiciously directed might have caused
+considerable annoyance. As it was, many Cutandthrusts lowered their
+heads to allow of undisturbed passage of shrapnell. On reaching
+walls redcoats hopped over like birds. Garrison stubbornly defended
+position. Cutandthrusts extended, advancing in their new formation.
+With wild cheer they again charged. Although this advance caused
+Muffs to fall back, they still retained their ground. At this moment
+machine-guns of battalion were brought into play with best results. A
+couple of rounds immediately broke up enemy's columns and put them
+to flight. Muffs were then routed by 53rd Regiment of Indian Tiger
+Eaters.
+
+By midday position secured. At invitation of bugles exploring party
+"ceased firing," and prepared for mess.
+
+_Later._--I have just received a return of killed and wounded on both
+sides, which I here give:--_Muffs._--Killed, about 20,000; wounded,
+twice as many more. _British._--Killed, none; wounded, No. 35,604,821
+Private SMITH (Cutandthrust Regiment), slight scratch on fourth finger
+of left hand.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NEW NAME FOR IT (_by Brother Bung_).--Local Hop-shun!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ALL THE DIFFERENCE.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  If half the things that CHLOE says to me,
+  If half the pretty kindnesses she shows,
+    By PHYLLIDA were shown or said,
+  Without a tremor I would stake my head
+    That I securely might propose
+      That she my bride would be.
+
+  Yet why? I know full well that CHLOE means
+  Nothing at all. 'Tis but her buoyant way,
+    Her frank "The best of friends, that's all."
+  And yet the stricter GRUNDY 'twould appal
+    To hear the tender things we say
+      Between our quarrel-scenes.
+
+  If one full-leaping pulse's beat
+    Beyond the coldest courtesy's demand
+    I trespass on sweet PHYLLIDA'S coy hand,
+  The thrill is shivered by her quick retreat,
+  Her fingers stiffen like a fossil fin,
+  And I again, a SISYPHUS, begin
+  The task of charming her reserve austere,
+    Palsied by Love's false fear,
+  Which drives the lover's chances down to zero.
+  While some cadaverous and long-chinn'd hero
+  Talks from a height rais'd by his own conceit,
+  And my white goddess listens at his feet.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: PREHISTORIC PEEPS.
+
+THERE WERE SEASONS (CORRESPONDING TO OUR EASTER, &C.) WHEN THE
+INHABITANTS OF ONE ACCORD GAVE THEMSELVES UP TO RELAXATION AND
+AMUSEMENT!]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LINES IN PLEASANT PLACES.
+
+THE LAND OF DREAMS.
+
+  There's a wondrous fairy kingdom
+    Whither all may take a trip--
+  Quite an inexpensive journey,
+    It is not by rail or ship--
+  For it lies just where you fancy,
+    And a pleasant thing it seems
+  For a man to sojourn sometimes
+    In the land of dreams.
+
+  'Tis the land where man attaineth
+    To the end of his desire,
+  Where the minor poet warbles
+    And the laurel crowns his lyre:
+  It is there the sucking statesman
+    Works out Machiavellian schemes,
+  And young BRIEFLESS is a leader
+    In the land of dreams.
+
+  'Tis the land of fur and feather,
+    'Tis the paradise of sport,
+  Where the runs beat all recounted
+    O'er the walnuts and the port:
+  It is there the pheasant rockets,
+    It is there the covert teems,
+  And your powder's always straightest
+    In the land of dreams.
+
+  There with ease the patient golfer
+    Plays a record medal-round,
+  And the batsman get his hundred,
+    Hitting clean all round the ground;
+  There old IZAAK'S keen disciple
+    Thrashes quite ideal streams,
+  For he angles most "compleatly"
+    In the land of dreams.
+
+  'Tis a land where someone meets you
+    You may never meet elsewhere,
+  'Tis a land where words are whispered
+    You may whisper only there;
+  'Tis the home of youth and sunshine
+    Where you taste of joy's extremes,
+  For, of course, there's someone loves you
+    In the land of dreams.
+
+  'Tis a land of peace and quiet,
+    Free from yelling paper-boys,
+  And from Germany's musicians,
+    And offensive kinds of noise:
+  There the organ-grinder grinds not,
+    There no restive infant screams.
+  Oh, to spend one's whole existence
+    In the land of dreams!
+
+  'Tis a land where rates and taxes
+    Never need be brooded on,
+  And the cupboard is unfurnished
+    With the homely skeleton:
+  There the roses all are thornless,
+    Life is destitute of seams,
+  And, in short, its worth the living
+    In the land of dreams.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+TO A PRETTY GIRL.
+
+(_Who accepted some verses._)
+
+  You take my lines, and say that you
+    Appreciate my humble verses.
+  That's more than editors will do,
+    Or publishers, with bloated purses.
+  To gain your thanks in such a way,
+  I'd write you verses night and day.
+
+  _You_ don't return them, saying you
+    Regret you cannot now accept them.
+  Or, scrawled with marks in blatant blue,
+    To show that, ruined, you have kept them.
+  If you would pay me with a smile,
+  I'd write you verses by the mile.
+
+  If you could only say that you
+    Would like me for my admiration,
+  To sing your charms till all was blue
+    Would be delightful occupation.
+  If I could hope to win a kiss,
+  I'd write you fifty miles like this.
+
+[Illustration.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _First Boy._ "GIVE US A BITE OF YOUR APPLE, BOB."
+
+_Second Boy._ "SHAN'T."
+
+_First Boy._ "WHAT FOR?"
+
+_Second Boy._ "'COS YER AXED ME!"
+
+(_After a pause._)
+
+_Small Boy._ "GI' ME A BITE, BOB. I NEVER AXED YER!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.
+
+EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.
+
+_House of Commons, Monday Night, April 8._--House to-night presented
+that appearance seen only on big occasions. Long unfamiliar in slough
+of despond in which present House been steeped since Session opened.
+Every seat on either side occupied. Members sitting on Gangway steps,
+flooding the side galleries, blocking the Bar, peopling even the steps
+of the Chair. ARTHUR PEEL is leaving historic stage graced through
+eleven years in fashion that has added fresh fame to an illustrious
+name. On ordinary occasions when SPEAKER rises to address House on
+current topics of business, Members who chance to have their hats on
+keep them there. Now, when the stately figure is discovered standing
+under the canopy of the Chair, Members without concert, but with one
+accord, bare their heads. Throughout a moving scene, which
+crammed much into fifteen minutes, nothing more striking than this
+simultaneous, swift uncovering of the head, and the transformation
+that followed when the rare sunlight, streaming in from western
+windows, fell upon five hundred unshaded faces all turned towards the
+tall, gowned figure standing by the Chair.
+
+The speech will be read to-morrow by millions, who will find it word
+for word and sentence by sentence in the newspapers. But the reader
+will gain but faint idea of the impression the delivery produced. The
+historic place, the animated scene, the electric current of such a
+gathering, were much. The effect was perfected by the elocution of
+the SPEAKER, perhaps the most perfect development of an attractive but
+dangerous art possessed by living man.
+
+What possibilities underlie its possession were wonderingly recognised
+in the last days of the late Parliament, when the directors of the
+Cambrian Railway Company were brought to the Bar of the House in
+connection with the dismissal of a station-master who had given
+unwelcome evidence before a Select Committee. House in the ludicrous
+pickle which invariably follows on Privilege proceedings. Directors
+summoned to attend were somewhere in the lobby. If it had
+been permissible to follow _Dogberry's_ example in similar
+circumstances--to take no note of directors, but let them go and
+presently call the rest of the watch together, and thank God they
+were rid of the knaves--it would have been well. But, directors
+being solemnly summoned, must needs be adequately dealt with. Finally
+resolved that SPEAKER should admonish them. Amid much giggling on part
+of hysterically uneasy House, conscious of its own ludicrous position,
+directors brought in and ranged at Bar. Then SPEAKER stood up and
+"most seriously admonished" them.
+
+No one present will forget the awesome mien, the terrible voice, with
+which the task was performed. At a touch farce was transformed into
+tragedy. Dignity of House, sorely imperilled, triumphantly vindicated.
+To-night the SPEAKER'S phrasing was perfect. Its setting in the
+delivery is untranslateable in speech or written word.
+
+_Business done._--Speaker announces resignation. SQUIRE OF MALWOOD
+brings in Local Veto Bill.
+
+_Tuesday._--"Poof!" said SARK, mopping his brow; "glad that's over. No
+knowing where it might have ended. Danger of last scene in SPEAKER'S
+leave-taking closing amid burst of irritated laughter. When I was
+first returned, we thought two leaders enough for one House. There was
+the Government man on the Treasury Bench, the Leader of Opposition on
+bench opposite. When ceremonial business to be done, these two spoke
+and the whole House agreed that its opinions had found expression.
+House rapidly growing into position akin to home forces of Prince of
+MONACO. Nearly as many captains as privates."
+
+These remarks wrung from troubled breast by long, at one anxious
+moment apparently interminable, procession of orators in support of
+resolution thanking retiring SPEAKER for services in Chair. SQUIRE OF
+MALWOOD said right thing in admirable way. PRINCE ARTHUR, less ornate
+in phrase, supplied a perfect second. These speeches voiced feeling
+of Ministerialists and Opposition. Some reasonableness in JUSTIN
+MCCARTHY'S interposition, he being leader of distinct party which, as
+he hinted, had in earlier days done battle with SPEAKER. But really,
+when it came to JOSEPH saying a few words for his merry men, and JOHN
+REDMOND tuning afresh the Irish harp on behalf of his, prospect grew
+alarming. If these leaders of sections within a division felt called
+upon to make speeches on such occasion, why not JOHN BURNS as a Labour
+Leader, with KEIR HARDIE to follow as captain of the Independent
+Labour Party; OSBORNE MORGAN, purged of profligacy, speaking for
+Wales, followed by LLOYD-GEORGE from below the Gangway; WILFRID LAWSON
+for the Temperance party; Private HANBURY as representing the land
+forces of the Busy B's; Cap'en TOMMY BOWLES the naval; JACOB BRIGHT
+returning thanks for the ladies, WALTER M'LAREN speaking specially
+for the section who desire to marry their deceased husband's
+brother? Domesticity thus trenched upon, Baron DE WORMS, with wistful
+"Long-Lost-Dear-Father" look on his face, might close the list by a
+few words spoken on behalf of the family circle.
+
+To-day stopped a little short of this; but shall doubtless go
+the whole way next time opportunity presents itself. _Business
+done._--Thanks of House voted to SPEAKER.
+
+_Wednesday._--By contrast with ordered speech-making of yesterday
+afternoon scene that took place in earliest moments of the new day's
+birth prettier by far. For upwards of an hour Members passing out
+homewards stopped to shake the SPEAKER'S hand and bid him farewell.
+Just before quarter of hour chimed after midnight, ARTHUR PEEL spoke
+his last words in House of Commons.
+
+"The question is," he said, "that this House do now adjourn."
+
+As he turned to leave the Chair, Members present sprang to feet,
+cheering continuously till ARTHUR PEEL, for the last time robed in
+Speaker's wig and gown, passed out of sight.
+
+  For Lochaber no more, Lochaber no more.
+  We'll maybe return to Lochaber no more.
+
+_Le roi est mort. Vive le roi._ WILLIAM COURT GULLY elected Speaker by
+majority of 11 in House of 559 Members.
+
+[Illustration: Farewell to Mr. Speaker Peel.]
+
+_Business done._--Elect new Speaker, and immediately give him ten
+days' holiday. Adjourn till Monday 22nd.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A STUDY IN ETHNOLOGY.
+
+  Upon my luck I still reflect,
+    That led us to the same Museum:
+  I greeted you with staid respect,
+    But my heart sang its own _Te Deum_,
+  And blessed your Uncle, ere I wist,
+  For being an ethnologist!
+
+  On old Assyrian spoils intent,
+    Our very presence he forgot,
+  While we o'er strings of wampum bent--
+    We saw them and we saw them not.
+  He lived within a past long dead,
+  We, in the seconds as they sped.
+
+  Within a carven mirror old,
+    Suddenly, as we wandered by,
+  You looked upon your hair of gold
+    And flushing face, and so did I.
+  Then on we passed: a vault we found,
+  And PHARAOH'S coffin, underground.
+
+  Oh, if his phantom ever stood
+    Beside the coffin made for him,
+  And saw you in your joyous mood,
+    With your bright eyes and figure slim,
+  King PHARAOH might have envied us
+  Beside his old sarcophagus!
+
+  But, PHARAOH, we, remembering
+    The ancient creed that souls of men
+  May see the summer and the spring,
+    May live again, and love again,
+  A moment wished the tale were true,
+  Because--it seemed so hard on you!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+WANTED IN THE WORLD OF "ART."--A Spring Clean!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+TO A YOUNG ACTRESS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  You regret that all you do
+  Is to be a lady who
+  Just walks on--a smile or two,
+        Then you're gone;
+  For you think that any gawk
+  Would be good enough to walk,
+  You undoubtedly should talk
+        When you're "on."
+
+  You are but a sort of show.
+  Silence for a girl is slow,
+  Speech is woman's right, I know
+        That is true,
+  And although your pretty face
+  Charms beholders by its grace,
+  You would like a higher place,
+        Wouldn't you?
+
+  But we cannot all have "leads,"
+  Nicely suited to our needs,
+  To excel in words and deeds,
+        Don't you see?
+  So, if you desire to speak,
+  I am not so far to seek,
+  I would listen for a week--
+        Talk to me.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SOMETHING YET!--"Mr. G." is a proficient in several languages. In
+Italian, as well as in Latin, in ancient and modern Greek, he can,
+we believe, converse fluently, when anyone gives him a chance.
+With Russian he may be acquainted, for, as this is "caviare to the
+general," it may be equally so to an ex-prime-minister. With Spanish
+Mr. G. is, probably, not on speaking terms, though, no doubt he is
+well up in the niceties of the language; and there are many spoken
+languages of which he possesses more than a smattering. But the
+accomplished scholar has yet something to learn from one RICHARD
+CUMBERLAND, a bishop in the last century, not the playwright, of whom
+it is on record that, being a proficient in most ancient and modern
+languages, he "began to learn Coptic at the age of eighty-three!"
+Although Mr. G. has gone very far north, yet has he not at present got
+up to CUMBERLAND.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A SUGGESTION.--There are two excellent waters, Apollinaris and
+Johannis, known to everyone as "'Polly" and "Jo." Might not the two
+companies amalgamate, and reproduce the success of "MY 'POL' AND MY
+PARTNER 'JO.'"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LATEST EQUIVALENT FOR "THE EAST WIND," AS REPLENISHMENT FOR HUNGRY
+STOMACHS.--The Royal Commission on the Aged Poor.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol.
+108, April 20, 1895, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, APRIL 20, 1895 ***
+
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