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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/44809-0.txt b/44809-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..47cd200 --- /dev/null +++ b/44809-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1215 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44809 *** + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 109. + +_August 10, 1895._ + + + + +A PSALM OF AUGUST. + +(_For the Circular Tourist_.) + + Tell me not, in Summer numbers, + "Holidays are but a dream!" + If you hold that vacs are slumbers, + Well--things are not what they seem. + + COOK is real! GAZE is earnest! + And the earth's end is their goal; + "Bust" thou art, and "bust" returnest, + Sing they to the tripper's soul. + + Not enjoyment--rather, sorrow + Greets the tourist on his way; + His to toil, that each to-morrow + Find him farther on his way. + + Tours are long, and Time is fleeting, + While we dire discomfort brave; + In globe-trotting, record-beating, + Pleasure surely finds its grave. + + Let us, still, each town be "doing," + Since "tow-rowing" is our fate-- + Then, half-dead with guide-pursuing, + Brag o'er those at home who wait! + + * * * * * + +"FORWOOD BOYS."--Sir ARTHUR FORWOOD, the new Baronet, +observes the Day-by-Day-istical writer in the _Daily Telegraph_, "is +not to be confounded with his brother, Sir WILLIAM FORWOOD." +Why not? Why interfere with the liberty of speech on the part of some +Radicals, who might say "Confound 'em both!" Or, in the words of the +National Anthem, "Confound their politics." + + * * * * * + +OMITTED FROM THE GRACIOUS SPEECH OF H.R.H. THE PRINCE OF WALES AT +THE OPENING OF THE SOUTHAMPTON NEW DOCK.--"I appear here as the +Judge, at whose word the prisoner is to be let into the dock, and, +subsequently, let out again. Ladies and gentlemen, the prisoner is--the +water." (_Cheers._) + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: PRESIDING DEITY. 1895. + +VENUS AN--ILINE DYE--OMENE.] + + * * * * * + +JOEYING AT THE PRINCE OF WALES'S. + +There have been JOES not a few on the stage. Coming down from +the time of JOE GRIMALDI, we pass on the way _Joseph Andrews_, +_Poll and Partner Joe_, _Poor Joe_ from _Bleak House_, and many other +JOES until we come to _Gentleman Joe_, hansom cab-driver, +played by ARTHUR ROBERTS. The question and answer in the old +idiotic nigger song applies appropriately here, with slight adaptation: + + What! _de_ JOE? Yes! _de_ JOE. + Spruce JOE kicking up ahind and afore, + KITTY LOFTUS playing up to Mister JOE. + +And with the assistance of the always graceful PHYLLIS +BROUGHTON--of whom _Gentleman Joe_ might have sung, but doesn't, +"PHYLLIS is my only _Fare_"--aided also by the pretty-voiced +LETTIE SEARLE, helped by the sprightly earnestness of Miss +CLARA JECKS, who has turned over a new leaf and come out as a +page, and kept moving by the dashing "go" of Miss SADIE JEROME +(not at all a "sad eye" nor a "say die" sort of young lady) as _Lalage +Potts_, this two-act musical farce, beginning as a kind of _High Life +below Stairs_ and ending anyhow, offering, as it does, opportunities +to Our Only ARTHUR for introducing into it any amount of +"divarsion" in the way of new songs, eccentric speeches, nods, winks, +becks, and wreathed smiles, may be continuing its successful career in +the summer of '96, there being no apparent reason why its run should +ever stop, that is as long as _Gentleman Arthur Joe Roberts_ handles +the ribands as the popular _Cabbing-it Minister_. + + * * * * * + +A NEW TITLE.--Our GRACE, the cricketer, is not made +a "Sir" or raised to a dukedom. There is, however, in view of present +craze, a great chance for conferring the greater honour on a champion +bicyclist. His title would be "The Duke of WHEELINGTON." + + * * * * * + +SCRAPS FROM CHAPS. + +A DIVIDEND DESERVED.--The Glasgow Town Council has been +running its own tram-cars for a year past, and has cleared more than +£20,000 of profit for the citizens out of the business. There is huge +rejoicing on the Clyde, and no wonder, as the result is due to sheer +good management, without over-charging the public or over-driving the +drivers. The Tramways Committee reports:-- + + Further, the Committee have given effect to what they believe to + be the general feeling of the citizens--viz., that the cars, which + necessarily form a notable feature of the streets of the city, + should not only be tasteful in design and colour, and comfortable + for passengers, but also that their general appearance should not be + marred or their destinations obscured by advertisements. + +Moral for many southern railway, tram, and omnibus companies--Go and do +likewise! Moral for Glasgow citizens--Get carried over your tram-lines +often enough, and you'll carry over a big dividend to decrease your +next year's rates! + + * * * * * + +SUB-LIME!--This is how "business" is transacted by some of the +Youghal Town Commissioners. The question was--who should supply them +with lime! + + _Mr. Kennedy._ I propose that thirty-nine barrels be bought and paid + for. + + _Mr. Loughlan._ I propose that he supply the lime at 1_s._ per barrel. + + _Mr. Long_ (_warmly_). I say the Board can't do anything of the kind. + + _Mr. Loughlan._ You'll get choked if you don't keep cool (_laughter_). + + _Mr. Long_ (_excitedly_). Take care of your windpipe (_laughter_). I + suppose he gave you a few good lumps of lime (_loud laughter_). + + _Mr. Loughlan_ (_jumping up excitedly_). Now that is a gross insult. + + _The Chairman._ Order, order, gentlemen. + + Then Youghal's worried chairman raised a cry of "Order!"--when + A lump of old white limestone took him in the abdomen; + And he smiled a wan official smile and walked out at the door, + And the tongues of LONG and LOUGHLAN interested him no more. + + * * * * * + +PORKERS AND PAUPERS.--Bath Workhouse pigs "live on the best of +good cheer" in the form and substance of milk, so the municipal pork +and rate-aided bacon ought to be prime. The _Bristol Mercury_ reports a +meeting of the Bath guardians, when + + Mr. MANCHIP called attention to the fact that some of the + children did not even touch their milk gruel and dry bread which + was served out for breakfast. On Friday morning when the visitors + were at the Workhouse at seven o'clock two buckets of milk gruel + were taken out to the pigs. Mr. MANCHIP proposed that the + Medical Officer be asked if he would be good enough at his earliest + convenience to consider whether a change could be made in the + children's diet. The Chairman thought if the gruel was sweetened with + a spoonful of treacle the children would then like it. It was agreed + to give the Chairman's suggestion a fortnight's trial. + +Congratulations to the Bath children on being e-manchip-ated from their +old diet! + + * * * * * + +For securing "absolute impartiality" in conferring the prizes at the +Llanelly National Eisteddfod, the judges had "a pit dug for them," +into which they disappeared during the progress of competitions, +so that participators could not "fix them with a glittering +eye," and compel them (by hypnotic means) to award a prize. Sir +JOSEPH BARNBY--warbling, _sotto voce_, "This is my time for +disappearing"--greatly enjoyed these dives to the bottom of the well +in search of Truth, and no doubt the novel departure "assisted" the +blindness of Justice. But, so far as dignity is concerned, "Oh! the +pit-y of it." + + * * * * * + + We read of a cooky at Claughton, + In music she was a self-taught'un; + But her mistress, I fear, + Said 'twas nothing but beer + +that caused her cook to vociferate hymns and, in her harmonious +enthusiasm, to return home towards midnight and hammer loudly at the +door. We know not whether this melodious _cuisinière's_ recipe for +cleaning fire-irons "with a wet rag and a bucket of water" is to be +found in Mrs. GLASSE'S _Art of Cookery_, but the learned Judge +decided in favour of the mistress, against whom MARY ROGERS (a +poetical name forsooth) brought an action for unjustifiable dismissal. +Alas! poor cook. She must, henceforward, do her stewing without singing +and her "mashes" without melody. + + * * * * * + +When Mr. HENRY MCCALMONT gives "receptions" they will be +styled, not "_soirées_," but "After-Newnes." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "DOTH NOT A 'MEETING' LIKE THIS MAKE AMENDS?" + +_Duke of W-stm-nst-r_ (_as they come out of the Hall, Chester_). +"EXCELLENT SPEECH, SIR! SO VERY KIND OF YOU TO COME!" + +_Mr. G._ "DON'T MENTION IT, DUKE. IF THERE'S ONE THING I LIKE MORE +THAN ANOTHER, IT'S A NON-POLITICAL MEETING!"] + + * * * * * + +A SOLILOQUY IN ST. JAMES'S PARK. + +(_By a Socialistic Loafer._) + +[Illustration] + + Besoide the worter in Sin Jimes's Pork, + I've stritched meself ter snooze hunder this ole tree-- + But cawn't, fur all the keckle, screech, an' squork, + From these yere ducks an' swans, an' sim'lar poultry! + + Them fowls is kep' up orf the Nytion's fun's; + If yer chucked stones at 'em there'd be a fuss mide; + They're reg'lar bustin' with the kikes an' buns + As they gits frowed by hevery kiddy's nuss-mide! + + I'll lay a femily cud liv fur weeks + On arf the screps them lyzy hoidle ducks re-jecks + hevery hour, a-turnin' up their beaks, + An' wallerin' in comfit an' in lux'ry! + + Whoy should the loikes o' them 'ave hall the luck, + Whoile sech as me----? It's skendalus, I s'y 'tis, + That--jest becos I ain't a bloomin' duck-- + Sercoiety don't grub and board me grytis! + + Some d'y we'll mike hour vices 'eard, in 'owls + O' ryge, an' s'y to--well, no matter _'oo_ it is-- + "Ain't we more fit ter live nor worter-fowls? + We're yumin beans--not feathered sooperflooities!" + + I'd cop thet one jess waddlin' hup the grorss, + An' twist 'is neck--'e's honly fit fur cookin'; + I would, on _prinserple_, as bold as brorss-- + If that there bloomin' Keeper wasn't lookin'! + + * * * * * + +"OH! LIZA."--Another subject for CHEVALIER. A special +meeting was held in Liverpool to protest against the presence of +Cockney costers who, it was asserted, seriously injured the business +of Liverpudlian "market-tenants." Mr. WALKER (is he of the +celebrated Hookey branch of the family?) averred that he had "seen a +coster with his barrow standing before the LORD MAYOR'S shop +for half-an-hour." Our sympathetic soul weeps at this gross injustice +to the worthy syndic, and we trust it will not cost-er him too much. +But, as the lawyer remarked, _de costibus non est disputandum_. + + * * * * * + +C. C. NEWS. LATEST (LAST THURSDAY) AS TO SCHOOL BOARD +SQUABBLES.--Mr. BOWIE wanted to have his Bowie-knife into +Mr. DIGGLE and others; but was prevented. A BOWIE, +not very sharp and without point, is rather a useless weapon in a fight. + + * * * * * + +"WURM WURK!"--At Bexhill-on-Sea the "Improvement +Committee"--(how wise of Bexhill-on-Sea to have instituted a +permanent "Improvement Committee," otherwise it might become +Bexhill-_at_-Sea!)--has engaged the exclusive services of Herr +WURM and his band. New motto for this new watering-place, "The +Early Beaks-'ll catch the Wurm." The musical _pabulum_ here provided +will be known as "the Diet of Wurm's." Band to play during every meal. +Likewise "Wurm Baths" with music. The eminent conductor will Wurm +himself into favour with everyone. + + * * * * * + +The _Daily Telegraph_ notifies a novelty in return tickets introduced +by the South London Electric Railway. "The return half of the ticket is +usable at any time." The idea being not "Go as you please," but "Go as +we (the Co.) please, and come back as you like." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE EXTINCTION OF THE HORSE. + +_Squire._ "ISN'T THAT THE MARE, COPER, YOU HOPED TO MAKE THREE +FIGURES OF AS A LADY'S HACK!" + +_Local Dealer._ "YES, SIR, THIS IS HER, WORSE LUCK! SHE'LL HAVE TO +GO FOR A 'CABBER' NOW--UNLESS I BOIL HER DOWN FOR BICYCLE OIL!"] + + * * * * * + +LA GÉOGRAPHIE DE LONDRES. + +_À Monsieur Punch._ + +MONSIEUR,--_Je viens d'arriver_--but hold! I go to write in +english, which I know enough well. I am come to London to this Congress +of Geographs. I cross the Sleeve--_la Manche_, how say you? Ah _la +douleureuse traversée_, the dolorous traversy! In fine, the train +arrives at a station. I seek, I regard, I read the soap, the mustard, +the other _réclames_--how say you?--but not the name of the station. +Then a cry, "Londonbridg!" Ah, it is the station of London! _Sapristi_, +how she is little this station! _La gare de Londres_ no more great than +a station of _banlieue_, near to Paris. Eh well, I descend immediately. +I seek my baggages, I go to find a _fiacre_, a "ansom." Then in English +I say to the coacher, "George Street, Number Forty." "Olraïttseu," say +he. What is this that this is that that? I comprehend not. But all of +same I mount in carriage and we part. + +Soon we arrive. Hold! This is a street of commerce; there is there but +offices. And not of number forty. + +"Nottir, maounsiah?" say the coacher. Ah, I comprehend! "No," say I, +"not here." "Minnoriss," say he. "How?" say I; but we are in road. +Hold! Again a street of commerce--but of the most villain. I anger +myself. I cry, "Coacher, I have said you George Street." "Olraïtt, +maounsiah," say he, "this is George Street." "Not here," I respond. "Is +there two George Streets?" Then he swear, he laugh; he ask that he may +be blown; he say more, that I comprehend not. In fine, he say, "Taoua +Ill." Again a George Street. But here some warehouses only. Then the +coacher say, "Shoditch," and we go. Again a George Street! Still more +small! Again one time I anger myself. I ask to him, "Where go you?" He +say, "Which George Street is it?" I say, "George Street, London." Then +he laugh again, and he swear; and he say, "Ollaouai." Again a George +Street! _Tiens, c'est embêtant!_ But it is but a street of commerce, +and very little. "Islingtonn," say he. What! again a George Street? +_Sapristi! Quelle ville!_ If they love the name of George, these +English! But, no, still a poor little street. "Blakfraïahs," say the +coacher. We traverse some streets, some streets, without end! In fine, +see there number forty. But it is a little shop. _Mille tonnerres! Pas +encore!_ "Youstonn Road," say he. Again some streets, some streets, +without end! And again a street of commerce. And again the number forty +is a shop! _Sacré nom d'une pipe!_ "Lissn Grov," say he. Again some +_kilomètres_ to traverse. What! Again a George Street? How many of them +is there, of these George Streets? And again, as you say in english, +"No go." But all of same we go, for the coacher say "Manshestasquaiah." +I shut myself the eyes, and I repose myself. + +Ah, that values better! In fine, a better street. And see, there number +forty! What joy! In fine, I arrive. How it is fatiguing, this course +in London, long of three hours or more! I descend. I demand my friend. +What? He live not here? He is gone? _A la bonne heure!_ "One more," say +the coacher. "What," I cry, "again a George Street?" "Yess, maounsiah, +Annovasquaiah." Then this one is not the house of my friend, this one +is not the George Street that I seek! _Que le diable enlève_---- + +But we continue, we arrive, in fine, it is here. All exhausted I +descend. How much pays one the course in London? In Paris it is 1·50. +Ah! in London it must be one shilling and half. This one has been a +long course; I go to give a good _pourboire_, one shilling. I offer +to the cabman two shillings and half. Then he cry, he swear, he +descend, he wish to fight me. I say, "It is not enough? How much?" +He say, "Tenbobb." What is this that this is that that? In fine, my +friends come from the house, they explain that that wishes to say, +"Ten shillings," they say he has reason, and I pay him. It costs dear +the cab of London. But it is equal to me, for now I go to pronounce a +discourse before the Geographical Congress on the George Streets of +London. He will be of the most interestings, of the most curious. I beg +you, Mister _Punch_, to make me the honour of to come to hear him, and +to agree the assurance of my sentiments the most distinguished. + + AUGUSTE. + + * * * * * + +THE POLITICAL UGLY DUCKLING. + +(_Fragments of a Brummagem Fairy Tale._) + +It was in a big town in the Midlands that the Ugly Duckling first +chipped shell. "_Cheek! Cheek! Cheek!_" squeaked the youngster as he +crept out. How big and ugly he was, to be sure! Not a bit like the +other ducklings. In fact he was a portent, and a puzzle. + +However, the ugly, grey-coated youngster, took to the water, and swam +about like the rest. "He's every inch my own child, after all," said +the old duck. "And really he's very pretty, when one comes to look at +him attentively. Quack! quack!" added she; "now, come along, and I'll +take you into high society. Now move on, and mind you cackle properly, +and bow your head before that old duck yonder, who is the noblest born +of them all. Now bend your neck, and say 'Quack!'" + +But the Ugly Duckling was an odd bird, as well as an ill-favoured one, +and gave much trouble and excited much jealousy in the duck-yard. He +quacked indeed, but he would not bend his head or bow to the old duck +properly. + +"He remained too long in the egg-shell," mused the maternal bird; "and +therefore his figure, like his manners, is not properly formed on the +true duck model. But as he's a male duck it won't matter so much. I +think he'll prove strong, and be able to fight his way through the +world." Which was true. + +<tb> + +But at first the Ugly Duckling had a baddish time of it. He was bitten, +pushed about, and made game of, not only by the ducks, but by the hens. +They all declared he was much too big, and fancied himself too much. +He certainly was not graceful, and he had a cocky, self-assertive +air which irritated the Conservative Old Cockalorums. He was always +making unexpected and unducklike sorties, "alarums and excursions," +and lifting up his raucus-caucus voice against the time-honoured rules +and respectable conventions of the duck-pond. So much so, that they +nicknamed him the "Daring Duckling," and prophesied that he would come +to a bad end. + +So he ran away, and flew over the palings. + +<tb> + +He had many adventures, and various. He dwelt for a time with a lot +of wild ducks in a marsh, and even struck up a sort of friendship +for a swarm of wild geese, who wanted to do away with domestication +and destroy the "tame villatic" tendencies of gregarious goosedom, +and abolish barn-yards and duck-ponds, peacocks, and game-fowls, and +guinea-hens, and poulterer's shops, and _pâté de foie gras_, and other +checks on liberty and incentives to luxury. But somehow he didn't get +on with the wild ducks for long. He was so much wilder than they, and +wanted his own way too much and too often for the old and recognised +leaders of their flocks. And as to the wild geese, why he soon lost +sympathy with their "revolutionary programmes" and "subversive +schemes," which he learned to regard indeed as a sort of wild goose +chase, and deride and denounce as vehemently as he had aforetime +praised them. + +"I think I'll take my chance, and go abroad into the wide world," said +the Duckling. + +<tb> + +One evening, just as the sun was setting, there came a whole flock of +beautiful large birds from a grove. The Ugly Duckling had never seen +any so lovely before. They were dazzlingly white, with long graceful +necks: they were swans. They uttered a peculiar cry, and then spread +their magnificent wings and away they flew from this cold country to +warmer lands across the open sea, as was their usual custom. They rose +so high that the Ugly Duckling felt a strange sensation come over him, +a sort of delicious vertigo. He turned round and round in the water +like a wheel, stretched his neck up into the air toward them, and +uttered so loud and strange a cry that he was frightened at it himself. +Oh! never could he again forget those beautiful, happy birds, so +gracefully fleeting against a primrose sky. He knew not how those birds +were called, nor whither they were bound, but he felt an affection for +them, such as he had never yet experienced for any living creature. +And he more and more lost love for, and patience with, all his old +associates, ducks or geese, wild or domesticated. + +<tb> + +The Ugly Duckling now felt able to flap his wings. They rustled much +louder than before, and bore him away most sturdily; and before long he +found himself in a noble park, a nobleman's park; indeed, the dainty +demesne of one of those who "toil not neither do they spin." It was +quite Beaconsfieldian in its beauty, with its smooth emerald sward and +umbrageous elm-avenues, its dusky cedar clumps and tail-spreading, +crest-sunning peacocks. + +"Dear me!" mused the Ugly Duckling. "It is strange, but _I feel quite +at home here!!!_" + +Three magnificent white swans now emerged from the thicket before him; +they flapped their wings and then swam lightly on the surface of the +water. The larger one (whose beak bore the letter S as a "nick") was +dark and haughty of mien, the second (whose beak was branded B) was +slim and exceeding graceful; whilst the third, a solid and even rather +sullen-looking bird, was beak-stamped with a legible D. + +"I will fly towards these royal birds," cried the Ugly Duckling. And he +flew into the water, and swam towards those stately swans, who turned +to meet him with sail-like wings the moment they saw him. + +"Why, he is one of us!" said the darker and statelier of the three. +"Almost!" he added, _sotto voce_. + +The Ugly Duckling was startled at the remark. But looking at his +reflection in the smooth lake he was more startled still. His own image +was to his eyes no longer that of the Daring Duckling, much less of the +Ugly One. It was smart, smooth, sleek, swelling, in fact swan-like!!! +At any rate, he thought so, and so, indeed, the other three swans +seemed to think. + +He preened his feathers, and puffed forth his plumes. He flapped his +wings, and arched his neck, as he cried in the fullness of his heart:-- + +"I never dreamed of such happiness when I was the Brummagem Ugly +Duckling." + +<tb> + +It matters not being born in a duck-yard if one is hatched from a +swan's egg! + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +_In Leisure Time_, by W. S. MAVOR (ELLIOT STOCK) is, +so my Baronite reports, a daintily-bound little volume of blameless +verse, unambitious, as may be inferred from its title. The author +writes like a classical scholar, his lines are fluent and melodious, +his metre and rhyme unimpeachable, while some of the poems, such as +"Zaleucus" and "A Vision," rise distinctly above the general level. +In others there are passages which my Baronite--a sadly prosaic and +matter-of-fact person--owns to having found slightly obscure. + +For example, in the following couplet:-- + + "In vain the fickle demon sports + With fetid remnants of decay." + +[Illustration] + +He quite failed to discover what particular--or rather anything _but_ +particular--demon is referred to, or why he should amuse himself in so +eccentric and unpleasant a manner. + +Nor, my Baronite says, was his conception of contentment greatly +assisted by this somewhat complicated comparison:-- + + "Contentment is a love-commissioned barque + Sailing a self-less sea--a sea whose flood + Is ordered alway by the laughing guns + Of Virtue's fortalice, whose armament, + Primed with rose-petal powder, doth discharge + In generous rounds of sympathy with all, + Scattering happiness, whose smile betrays + The pangless hurt." + +But that, he is quite willing to admit, may be rather the fault of his +own imagination than the poet's. Again, in a poem entitled "Love's +Messengers," the author writes:-- + + "Flit thou along on softly feathered feet, + Noiseless, thou shadowy-pinioned minister, + And gently fan, _with midnight gale_, my sweet, + Lest thou awaken her." + +Which, to my Baronite, suggests the difficulty that, if the minister +fans the lady with his shadowy pinions "gently," he will fail to +produce anything resembling a "midnight gale"; on the other hand, if he +performs the part of invisible punkah so energetically as to suggest +a gale, he can hardly help awakening her unless she is a very heavy +sleeper indeed--and _might_ give her a cold in the head. Surely this is +rather an unfair dilemma on which to place a feathered minister of any +denomination. + +But after all, poetry, as my Baronite fully recognises, is not meant to +be judged by so literal a standard, and it may be cheerfully conceded +that there are many people who make a less profitable use of their +"Leisure Time" than Mr. MAVOR has done. In which opinion +concurs + + THE LEISURELY BARON DE BOOK-WORMS. + + * * * * * + +HOP(E)FUL LIBERALISM IN KENT.--Sir ISRAEL HART of +Hythe, thinks that if his friends do their work well, he may yet +find in the Hytheians an Israel-light-hearted constituency. Sir +ISRAEL is a _Jew d'esprit_. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE BICYCLE AGAIN. + +_Applicant for the Situation of Cook._ "BEFORE I GO, PLEASE, MA'AM, +MAY I ASK YOUR SERVANT TO SHOW ME THE BASEMENT? I MUST SEE THAT YOU +HAVE A CONVENIENT PLACE FOR MY BICYCLE!" + +_Mistress._ "OF COURSE I HAVE SEEN TO THAT. YOU WILL FIND A +ROOM SET APART. ONLY I MUST TELL YOU THAT I DON'T ALLOW RATIONAL +DRESS!"] + + * * * * * + +FOR THE TAILORS' CONGRESS AT VERVIERS. + +1. Why should it take nine tailors to make a man? + +2. Ought you cut a coat according to your cloth, or according to the +fashion? + +3. How do you cook a tailor's goose? Should it be basted? + +4. In England is the most suitable seaside resort for tailors +Weskit-on-Sea, or Sheerness _sur la côte_? + +5. Shall a prize be given for the best essay on the advantage of having +a pair of Pantaloons on the stage in a Pantomime? + +6. Is it a matter of universal complaint that a tailor should not be +allowed to play billiards because he scarcely passes a day without +cutting a cloth? + +7. What price for the best tale of a coat? + +8. Is it proved to satisfaction that SHAKSPEARE was a tailor +from the fact of his having written _Measure for Measure_? + +9. Whether, for the next International Yacht Race, the tailors should +enter a cutter? + + * * * * * + +GOOD BADMINTON.--Among the contents of LONGMAN'S +_Badminton Magazine_ is an article by the Markiss o' GRANBY +on Grouse; SUSAN, not Black-eyed nor Rebellious, but Countess +of Malmesbury, writes cleverly on her perch, and on the matter of +salmon the Countess would count for a lot in any ex-salmonation. Lord +ONSLOW on slow and on quick bicycling; capital. C. B. +FRY, not one of the Small Fry, gives his ideal of a cricketing +day, which is to be known as a "Fry-day." Then who is it writes a +florid account of fishing in Florida? O'TIS MYGATT. The +question of "What's on at Newmarket?" is pleasantly answered by +ALFRED WATS-ON at Newmarket. On "Old Sporting Prints," +PEEK writes with point. And on "The Alpine 'Distress Signal' +Scheme" there is a paper by C. T. DENT, who has been, more or +less, a Re-si-dent on the spot, as this in-denture witnesseth. + + * * * * * + +"TO THE RANK OF MAJOR-GENERAL HAVE RISEN!"--_Critic._ From a +paragraph in last week's _Truth_ we extract the following:--"Another +scandalous 'selection' job has just been perpetrated at the War +Office. Colonel TROTTER, who has been promoted to the rank of +major-general, has seen no war service, and has no professional claims +whatever upon the authorities." If this information be correct, the +colonel should be remembered by the distinctly Dickensian title of +_"Job" Trotter_. + + * * * * * + +THE LAST KNIGHT OF THE SEASON. + +On Monday, July 29, Sir AUGUSTUS HARRIS, bidding farewell to +a typical '95 Covent Garden audience (house crowded in every part), +seized the opportunity to present one of his lightning conductors with +a "_bâton_ of honour." In a spontaneous speech, DRURIOLANUS +declared that Signor MANCINELLI had "worked like a Trojan," +and the announcement was received with sympathetic applause. Still, +it was thought possible by those present that the pleasant and +prosperous _impresario_ was in search of something that he had +seemingly lost--"a little poem of his own." We have no hesitation in +publishing the following lines, entitled _Sans Adieu_, found in the +neighbourhood of the C. G. orchestra. If they are not from the pen of +DRURIOLANUS, they ought to have been:-- + + Not farewell, my MANCINELLI! + MANCINELLI, _au revoir!_ + As harmonious _fratelli_ + We shall meet again! _Espoir!_ + Take, oh take this shining _bâton_. + You're a marvel! _O, si sic!_ + When you've got it, with your hat on. + _En vacance_ you'll cut your stick. + + You will wave it, you will wield it + Always, my conductor prime, + Never up again you'll yield it, + Ever living to beat time! + Grasp it, use it, MANCINELLI! + Highest praise to you is due! + With it beat Old Time to jelly, + Till Conductor Time beats _you!_ + + * * * * * + +More Honours. + +Motto for Sir WILLIAM DUNN: "_Ce qu'il fait c'est bien fait._" +Likewise "Just Dunn enough." + +For Mr. JOHN TOMLINSON BRUNNER, M.P., a Brunneretcy. + +Motto for Sir A. B. FORWOOD: "_En avant! et plus en avant que +jamais._" + + * * * * * + +"H.M.S."--Should H.M. the King of the BELGIANS ask H. M. +STANLEY, M.P., to return to Congo-land, the inquiry wired will +take this simple form "_Congo?_" and the answer must be "_Can't go_." +_On dit._ The H.M.'s have settled satisfactorily. + + * * * * * + +MEDICAL CONGRESS.--Explanation:--The "Anti-toxin" party is +against the use of a dinner bell or gong. They do not agree with Lord +BYRON, "The tocsin of the soul, the dinner bell." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE NEW KEEPERS. + +SQUIRE BULL (_to_ S-L-SB-RY _and_ +CH-MB-RL-N). "WELL, MY MEN--NOW I'VE TAKEN YOU ON, I SHALL +EXPECT BIGGER BAGS THAN I'VE HAD LATELY."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: REMINISCENCE OF A RECENT POLITICAL CONTEST. + +_Harmless Individual_ (_who has suddenly and unexpectedly been +assaulted and battered by inebriated party_). "YOU SCOUNDREL! +WHAT'S THE MEANING OF THIS?" + +_Inebriated Politician._ "'LECKSHUNS, OLE F'LA! +'LECKSHUNS!--(_hic_)----" + + [_Comes a cropper himself._ #/ ] + + * * * * * + +THE MEETING OF THE WATER-RATEPAYERS. + + ["The New Town Hall in Mare Street, Hackney, was altogether too small + to hold the crowds who came last night (August 1) to protest against + the action of the East London Water Company in cutting down the supply + of water during the past few weeks."--_Evening News._] + +AIR--"_The Meeting of the Waters._" + + There is not in the whole land a meeting so meet + As that of the ratepayers held at Mare Street. + No mare's nest they'd found, no, the Hackneyite heart + Was hot at the new Water Company start! + + It _was_ not that Nature had stinted supply; + That Monopolist pretext appears "all my eye." + 'Twas _not_ summer parching of river and rill, + Oh! no--it was something more troublesome still. + + 'Twas that greed and neglect had combined, it is clear, + To make East End water deficient and dear; + And Monopoly now the supply must improve, + Or more than mere Mare Streets will be on the move. + + Big Monopolist Mammon, how calm could you rest + With your dividends high in the way you love best; + But when water runs short, and diseases increase, + The East End won't leave you and your Water at peace. + + * * * * * + +GULLY-VER.--Mr. BALFOUR'S decision as to not +disturbing the SPEAKER in his uneasy chair was e-gully +awaited, and is, it is hoped, accepted e-gully by all parties. So now, +in his chair, Mr. GULLY will reign re-gully. + + * * * * * + +LATEST FASHION.--Bicycle dinners and suppers have been the +vogue. _Pièce de résistance_ is of course "Cold Wheel." This dish is +selected because whatever the number "wheel" is sure to go round. + + * * * * * + +LEAVE OF ABSENCE TO AUGUST-OUT DALY CO. + +AUGUSTIN DALY'S Company has left us just as play-goers had +taken a fancy to _Nancy & Co_. To paraphrase the old refrain-- + + And all their fancy + Dwelt upon NANCY + The play called _Nancy & Co._ + +It went as a lively laughter-raiser should go, with Miss ADA +REHAN excellent in every way; Miss MAXINE ELLIOT +charming; JAMES LEWIS inimitably funny, and Mr. +WORTHING ("quite a Bright'un," as WAGSTAFF says) +capital. That the fun of a farcical comedy should be kept up through +four acts is a tribute to the original work and to the skill of its +adaptor, Mr. _Daly_ himself. _"Vive la Compagnie!" et au revoir!_ + + * * * * * + +A Sportsman's View of It. + + CHAMBERLAIN _vice_ ROSEBERY! What fun! + The change means order, peace, and lots of tin for us. + What are the Derbies twain young Primrose won + To the _New Markets_ many JOE will win for us? + + * * * * * + +"AFTER THE CALL WAS OVER." + +(_Notes for an Additional Chapter to the History of Hullibulgaria._) + +The Deputation did their very best. They were most anxious to make +things smooth. "He whom they desired to obey" would wear an inferior +sort of crown, robes of cotton-backed velvet, trimmed with imitation +fur. He would not give away orders--he would only take them. He would +not command the army, save as an agent acting under direction from the +Master. There is nothing he would not do to secure the goodwill of his +great, his benevolent, his all-powerful Master. + +The Bear was very amiable. The Bear was pleased with the Deputation +and with the nation they represented. And having said this, there was +nothing further for the Bear to say. + +"But, most powerful of powers, most clement of sovereignties," urged +the Deputation, "there is another matter needing decision. How about +the Prince?" + +"What Prince?" softly murmured the Bear, in a tone of curiosity +combined with astonishment. + +"The Prince we wish to serve," explained the Deputation; "the Prince +who desires to serve you." + +"Have you read the Treaty of Berlin?" asked Bruin. "It is a most +excellent agreement, and deserves special attention. Does the name of +any Prince appear therein?" + +"No," replied the Deputation; "and the same painful omission is +observable in the _Almanac de Gotha_. So we would petition on our +knees that the painful omission should be supplied. We ask that the +Prince----" + +"Stop! stop!" cried the Bear. "You are talking of a myth. As Mrs. +GAMP--a well-known Englishwoman--once observed, 'I don't +believe there ain't no sech person.' So think I, and so thinks the +Treaty of Berlin." + +And so the Deputation returned from whence they came, and "the Prince" +continued to "take the waters" without obtaining the cure he desired. +It was disappointing to His Highness, but not to the Editor of the +_Almanac de Gotha_, who found a revised edition of his excellent +periodical was, at least for the present, unnecessary. + + * * * * * + +What title will Baron DE WORMS take? Viscount +CHRYSALIS? to end by becoming Le Duc DE PAPILLON? + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: Br-ce. B-nn-rm-n. Asq-th. + +A PARLIAMENTARY PROSPECT. + +_Sir W. V. H-rc-rt_ (_on Opposition Bench_). "HOW HOT AND +UNCOMFORTABLE THEY MUST BE OVER THERE! SO CROWDED!"] + + * * * * * + +PASSION AND POETRY. + +I was immensely struck, a few days ago, by a passage in a speech +recently delivered by the Archbishop of CANTERBURY, in +which he explained his method of dispelling those passing fits of +ill-temper from which, alas! not even Archbishops are wholly free. "At +times," so ran the report of His Grace's words, "anger or irritation +came upon him, but on the table he kept a book of pleasant poems, +of which he would read a few lines, and the irritation would melt +away." Immediately I determined to follow this noble example. It was +unfortunate that the "book of pleasant poems" was not described more +specifically--could it be the verses of Mr. ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER +BENSON?--but I bought a pocket volume of _Selections from the +Great Poets_, which contained enough variety to suit every case, and +then looked out for an opportunity of trying the Archbishop's plan. + +I had not long to wait. That very evening I came across my uncle +ROBERT at Clapham Junction, in a furious rage at having +just missed the last train to Slowborough, where he lives. At once +I produced my volume, and in slow and emphatic accents I read aloud +some three or four hundred lines from "Paradise Lost." I was about +to add one or two of WORDSWORTH'S sonnets, when I realised +that my uncle had long since disappeared, and that I was surrounded +by a jeering crowd, who evidently supposed me to be a member of the +Salvation Army. + +On the following morning I received a visit from SNIPS, my +tailor. He was impolite enough to suggest a settlement of what he +termed my "small account," a demand, as I politely but plainly assured +him, which was altogether absurd. As he showed distinct symptoms of +irritation at this juncture, I began to read him a scene from _Measure +for Measure_. Strangely enough, this seemed only to irritate him +further, and I understand that he intends to take proceedings against +me in the County Court. This second unaccountable failure of the +Archbishop's remedy greatly surprised and pained me, but I decided to +give it another trial. + +This morning I was playing golf with my friend MACFOOZLE. +At no time a skilful golfer, MACFOOZLE'S form to-day was +worse than ever; whenever he made a bad stroke--and he seldom made +a good one--he indulged in the most violent language. Fortunately +my volume of poetry was in my pocket. When he completely missed his +drive at the second hole, I read him COLERIDGE'S _Dejection_. +When he broke his mashie at the fourth, I treated him with copious +selections from _In Memoriam_. Finally, he got badly bunkered while +playing to the fourteenth hole. For some ten minutes he smote furiously +with his niblick, only raising prodigious clouds of sand as the +result of his efforts. This was clearly a golden opportunity for the +Archbishop's cure, "anger and irritation" but faintly represented +MACFOOZLE'S rage. Seating myself on the edge of the bunker, +I began to read aloud _The Ring and the Book_ with the utmost pathos. +Over what followed I prefer to draw a veil. It is enough to say that a +niblick is a very effective weapon, and that I write these lines in bed. + +When I recover, I really must call at Lambeth for fuller directions. +The archiepiscopal remedy for angry passions does not seem invariably +happy in its results, as far as my experience goes. + + * * * * * + +THE MALT-LIQUOR-TIPPLER'S MAXIM.--_"Nihil ale-ienum a me +pewter":_--"Nothing in the shape of beer comes amiss to me if it's in a +pewter." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: AN EYE TO EFFECT. + +_Little Dives._ "OH, BY THE WAY, BELAIRS--AWFULLY SORRY TO CUT +YOU OUT, YOU KNOW--BUT I'VE JUST PROPOSED TO LADY BARBARA, AND SHE'S +ACCEPTED ME, AND WE'RE TO BE MARRIED IN SEPTEMBER. AND LOOK HERE, OLD +CHAPPIE; I WANT YOU TO BE MY BEST MAN. I WANT TO MAKE A GOOD SHOW AT +THE ALTAR, YOU KNOW!" + + * * * * * + +A Chip to the Champion. + + [Mr. RANJITSINHJI is running Mr. W. G. GRACE very + close in the batting averages.] + +_To the ancient air of "Cheer up Sam!"_ + + BUCK-UP, GRACE! + And don't let your average down! + For "RANJIT" seems running you hard for first place, + To collar your Cricketing Crown! + + * * * * * + +"PROUD O' THE TITLE."--Sir HENRY JAMES to be "Lord +JEAMES." How delighted W. M. THACKERAY would have +been! + + * * * * * + +By a Reasonable Rad. + + _Why_ were we whipped? Rads wrangle round, + But to _the_ cause make scant allusion. + When all's summed up, it will be found, + "Fusion" has won against _Con_-fusion! + + * * * * * + +A SUGGESTION.--In latest _Observer_ is a capital article by +Mr. ESCOTT, whose text is that "smart" Society transplants to +London all Parisian fashions that will bear the process. The title is +"British Boulevardism;" but one still more suggestive of the mixture +would be "John-Bullvardism." Perhaps Mr. ESCOTT may adopt this +and give us another column. + + * * * * * + +ROUNDABOUT READINGS. + +In a biographical sketch of the late Rev. Dr. JULIUS HAWLEY +SEELYE, formerly President of Amherst College, in America, I +read that "Amherst made him President notwithstanding considerable +opposition in the faculty. He soon overcame that, and advanced the +prosperity of the College in the accessions to its faculty and +endowments that he secured. He soon required the students to sign an +agreement to be gentlemen. A violation of the pledge resulted in the +termination of their careers at Amherst." This sounds strange, for it +would appear that if no pledge had been given the students might have +behaved as they liked, without terminating their careers. The idea of +solemnly pledging yourself to be a gentleman is quite colossal. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +The Independent Labour Party is not dead yet. It is forming clubs, +just like any ordinary humdrum party. The _Western Daily Press_ +reports that "At a special meeting held at LEE'S Coffee +Tavern, Bath Bridge, last night, when there were present Mr. W. +S. M. KNIGHT, president of the Bristol South Independent Labour +Party (in the chair), Messrs. A. BROWNE, E. B. HACK, +C. VALE, C. F. BROCKLEHURST, T. POLE, C. +PARKER, and W. PRICE, it was unanimously decided to open +a club for Totterdown and the East Ward of Bedminster in connection +with the Independent Labour Party. Officers and a committee were +appointed, and suitable headquarters for the club were decided upon." +Nothing could be more appropriate. Totterdown suggests decrepitude and +failure (in this case at least), and Bedminster hints at repose and +peace. I offer the suggestion and the hint gratis to the Independent +Labour Windbags. + + * * * * * + +The Loveday Street Canal Bridge (which is, I fancy, in Birmingham) is +evidently a demon bridge with a depraved taste for injuring children. +One day last week it threw JOHN CHICK, aged seven, off and +broke one of his legs. About five hours later, resenting an attempt on +the part of THOMAS WALTON, aged twelve, to climb it, it flung +him off on to the towing-path and injured his back. A few days before +that it had precipitated the same THOMAS WALTON into the +water, whence he was rescued with some difficulty. Evidently this is a +bridge with an ungovernable temper, and the authorities should guard it +efficiently. + + * * * * * + +_The Scotsman_ informs me that "speaking the other day at Haddington, +Mr. BALFOUR glanced scathingly at those politicians of the +baser sort who seek to confuse great issues by dragging to the front +petty or irrelevant questions, and the breath of whose nostrils is +the disturbance of the harmony which should subsist between class +and class of the community." On this two questions arise. The first +is how Mr. BALFOUR, an amiable gentleman, managed to glance +scathingly. To scath, as I learn from the dictionary, means to hurt, +to injure; and, personally, I cannot imagine Mr. BALFOUR +infusing very much venom into a mere glance of his expressive eye. The +second question is how politicians, even of the baser sort, can go on +living when their unfortunate lungs are filled with a disturbance of +harmony. That they should have sufficient strength left to drag to the +front petty or irrelevant questions is nothing short of a marvel, due +allowance being made for metaphors. + + * * * * * + +A golfer is in trouble, and has confided his difficulties to _Golf_. + + Whilst playing on the links at Streetly, on July 16, he drove a ball, + which apparently fell clear, but which for some time could not be + found. After some little hunting it was discovered under a small tuft + of heather in a lark's nest, resting on the back of a young lark, + apparently about four days old, together with three lark's eggs, + which were quite intact. The golfer was obliged, of course, to lift + the ball and place it behind, as it would have been gross cruelty to + have played it from the nest. It was match play. Under the exceptional + circumstances was he bound to lose the hole? The editor replies that + if a player were a stickler for the law and nothing but the law, he, + of course, would be entitled to enforce it against his opponent who + found the ball in the nest. + + * * * * * + + A tee for your ball, you may fashion of sand + (Which is found in the sugar you use for your tea); + Then you spread your legs wide, and you take a firm stand, + And away with a whack goes the ball flying free. + + If it flies like a bird, there's no need to explain; + If not, then the ways of that golfer are dark, + Who attempts, though the effort is doomed to be vain, + To stand, taking tee on the back of a lark. + + * * * * * + +There has been some excitement at Weston-super-Mare. The "Conservative +party organized a reception for the Hon. G. H. JOLLIFFE on his +first appearance in the town since his election for the Wells division. +Arrangements were made for those intending to take part in the +procession to meet the hon. gentleman at the Potteries on his return +from Banwell Horse Show at 7 p.m., but he arrived in the town a quarter +of an hour too early, and scores of enthusiasts were disappointed. +Those, however, who happened to be early enough followed the hon. +gentleman, some on foot and others in cabs, to the Royal Hotel, the +Town Band heading the procession. Mr. JOLLIFFE rode on a coach +drawn by four horses, and was supported by several of the leaders of +the party in the town. Subsequently he addressed those assembled." +But if Mr. JOLLIFFE rode on a coach, why was it necessary to +support him? Moreover, seeing that it was a four-horse affair, it seems +unjust that the leaders should be talked of and that no mention at all +should be made of the wheelers. + + * * * * * + +NANA SAHIB has died once more. + + A Mr. WILLIAM BROWN, who was formerly an officer in the East + India Company's service, and is now residing at San Francisco, gives + the following particulars regarding the fate of NANA SAHIB. + Mr. BROWN says that he was commodore of the Ganges Fleet + in the Indian Mutiny, and was attacked by Sepoys under NANA + SAHIB himself, who was shot in the fighting, and afterwards died + on board Mr. BROWN'S ship. NANA SAHIB'S body was + then cremated, and the ashes were committed to the river. + +Why, oh why, has Mr. BROWN, whom I heartily congratulate on +clearing up the mystery, kept silence for nearly forty years? And, by +the way, which Mr. WILLIAM BROWN is he? There must be a good +many WILLIAM BROWN'S even in San Francisco. Before concluding +that the matter is definitely settled, I should like to hear Mr. +HENRY SMITH, Mr. RICHARD ROBINSON, and Mr. JOHN +JONES on the subject. + + * * * * * + +WHERE NOT TO GO. + + (_Hints by our Pessimist Passenger._) + + _Amsterdam._--Too much sea before you get there. + + _Boulogne._--Not particularly pleasant at low tide. + + _Cologne._--The reverse of fragrant at all times. + + _Dieppe._--The trap of the tripper. + + _Etretat._--No longer what it was. + + _Frankfort._--Only good for a change of money. + + _Geneva._--Dull and dear. + + _Heidelberg._--Too much hill, and too little castle. + + _Interlaken._--The 'appy 'ome of 'ARRY. + + _Jura Pass._--Sure find for BROWN, JONES, and ROBINSON. + + _Karlsbad._--Kill or cure. + + _Lyons._--Apotheosis of silk monotonous. + + _Marseilles._--Good place for musquitoes, bad for all else. + + _Nice._--Too near to Monte Carlo. + + _Ouchy._--Hotel good, but surroundings superfluous. + + _Paris._--Too hot. Theatres closed and wideawakes seen on the + boulevards. + + _Quebec._--Dangerous rival to Bath, Coventry, and Jericho. + + _Rotterdam._--Worthy of its name. + + _Suez._--Not comparable to Cairo. + + _Trouville._--Requires antedating a quarter of a century. + + _Uig._--Skyed and out of reach. + + _Venice._--Vulgarised by the steam launches. + + _Wiesbaden._--Has not yet recovered the loss of its table. + + _Xerez._--Long journey for a glass of sherry. + + _Yokohama._--Not a patch upon Pekin. + + _Zurich._--Alliterative attraction for zomebody. + + * * * * * + +A BONNE BOUCHE. + +_Mr. Wagstaff._ Ah! I have lived many years in the bush. + +_Mrs. Leo Hunter._ How interesting! I suppose you must have become +almost savage! + +_Mr. W. Frequently_, when I couldn't get a 'bus or a cab. + +_Mrs. L. H._ (_utterly astonished_). A 'bus or a cab! in the bush!! + +_Mr. W._ (_pleasantly_). Ah, yes; I was talking of "Shepherd's Bush." +Good morning. + + [_Exit chuckling._ + + [{asterism} _Note by the Bird in the Bush._--In future this + little jest of WAGGY'S will be impossible, as it is proposed + to re-name Shepherd's Bush, and call it Pastoral Park, or All-Askew + Park, or something of the sort.] + + * * * * * + +"SORTES SHAKSPERIANÆ."--On the new Postmaster-General:-- + + "Friend post the Duke of NORFOLK." + + _Richard the Third_, Act iv., Scene 4. + + +And we hope his Grace will be "Friend post," and benefit us all. + + * * * * * + +A volume of Reminiscences by HENRY RUSSELL is promised. +Evidently this ought to be a "Cheery, Boys, Cheery" sort of book. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +109, August 10, 1895, by Various + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44809 *** diff --git a/44809-h/44809-h.htm b/44809-h/44809-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee1cd87 --- /dev/null +++ b/44809-h/44809-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1452 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 109. August 3, 1895. , by Various. + </title> + + + <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg"/> + + + <style type="text/css"> + + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .lowercase {text-transform:lowercase;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .stage {padding-left: 6em;} + + .blockquote {margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 85%;} + + hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + +small {font-size: 70%;} + .small {font-size: 70%;} + .smaller {font-size: 50%;} + +.sans {font-family: sans-serif;} + + span.pagenum {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0; + text-decoration: none;} + + + + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem h3 {text-align: left;} + .poem h4 {text-align: left;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + + .figcenter, .figright, .figleft {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img {border: none;} + .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + .figleft {float: left;} + + p.author {text-align: right; margin-right: 3em;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.break-before { + page-break-before: always; +} + + + +epub headings + +.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } +.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } +.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } +.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } +.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } + + + + + + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 0.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44809 ***</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h1>PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.<br /><br /> +<small>Vol. 109.<span class="sc">August 10, 1895.</span></small><br /><br /> +<span class="smaller"><em>edited by Sir Francis Burnand</em></span></h1> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + + + +<p class="ph3"><a name="A_PSALM_OF_AUGUST" id="A_PSALM_OF_AUGUST">A PSALM OF AUGUST.</a></p> + +<p class="center">(<i>For the Circular Tourist.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tell me not, in Summer numbers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Holidays are but a dream!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you hold that vacs are slumbers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Well—things are not what they seem.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Cook</span> is real! <span class="smcap">Gaze</span> is earnest!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the earth's end is their goal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Bust" thou art, and "bust" returnest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sing they to the tripper's soul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not enjoyment—rather, sorrow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Greets the tourist on his way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His to toil, that each to-morrow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Find him farther on his way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tours are long, and Time is fleeting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While we dire discomfort brave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In globe-trotting, record-beating,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pleasure surely finds its grave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let us, still, each town be "doing,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Since "tow-rowing" is our fate—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, half-dead with guide-pursuing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Brag o'er those at home who wait!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Forwood Boys.</span>"—Sir <span class="smcap">Arthur Forwood</span>, the new Baronet, +observes the Day-by-Day-istical writer in the <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, "is +not to be confounded with his brother, Sir <span class="smcap">William Forwood</span>." +Why not? Why interfere with the liberty of speech on the part of some +Radicals, who might say "Confound 'em both!" Or, in the words of the +National Anthem, "Confound their politics."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Omitted from the Gracious Speech of H.R.H. the Prince of Wales at +the opening of the Southampton New Dock.</span>—"I appear here as the +Judge, at whose word the prisoner is to be let into the dock, and, +subsequently, let out again. Ladies and gentlemen, the prisoner is—the +water." (<i>Cheers.</i>)</p> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 232px;"> +<a href="images/061full.jpg"> +<img src="images/061.jpg" width="232" height="500" alt="PRESIDING DEITY" /></a> +<div class="caption">PRESIDING DEITY. 1895.</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Venus An—iline dye—omene.</span></p></div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">JOEYING AT THE PRINCE OF WALES'S.</p> + +<p>There have been <span class="smcap">Joes</span> not a few on the stage. Coming down from +the time of <span class="smcap">Joe Grimaldi</span>, we pass on the way <i>Joseph Andrews</i>, +<i>Poll and Partner Joe</i>, <i>Poor Joe</i> from <i>Bleak House</i>, and many other +<span class="smcap">Joes</span> until we come to <i>Gentleman Joe</i>, hansom cab-driver, +played by <span class="smcap">Arthur Roberts</span>. The question and answer in the old +idiotic nigger song applies appropriately here, with slight adaptation:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">What! <i>de</i> <span class="smcap">Joe</span>? Yes! <i>de</i> <span class="smcap">Joe</span>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spruce <span class="smcap">Joe</span> kicking up ahind and afore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Kitty Loftus</span> playing up to Mister <span class="smcap">Joe</span>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And with the assistance of the always graceful <span class="smcap">Phyllis +Broughton</span>—of whom <i>Gentleman Joe</i> might have sung, but doesn't, +"<span class="smcap">Phyllis</span> is my only <i>Fare</i>"—aided also by the pretty-voiced +<span class="smcap">Lettie Searle</span>, helped by the sprightly earnestness of Miss +<span class="smcap">Clara Jecks</span>, who has turned over a new leaf and come out as a +page, and kept moving by the dashing "go" of Miss <span class="smcap">Sadie Jerome</span> +(not at all a "sad eye" nor a "say die" sort of young lady) as <i>Lalage +Potts</i>, this two-act musical farce, beginning as a kind of <i>High Life +below Stairs</i> and ending anyhow, offering, as it does, opportunities +to Our Only <span class="smcap">Arthur</span> for introducing into it any amount of +"divarsion" in the way of new songs, eccentric speeches, nods, winks, +becks, and wreathed smiles, may be continuing its successful career in +the summer of '96, there being no apparent reason why its run should +ever stop, that is as long as <i>Gentleman Arthur Joe Roberts</i> handles +the ribands as the popular <i>Cabbing-it Minister</i>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">A New Title.</span>—Our <span class="smcap">Grace</span>, the cricketer, is not made +a "Sir" or raised to a dukedom. There is, however, in view of present +craze, a great chance for conferring the greater honour on a champion +bicyclist. His title would be "The Duke of <span class="smcap">Wheelington</span>."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">SCRAPS FROM CHAPS.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Dividend Deserved.</span>—The Glasgow Town Council has been +running its own tram-cars for a year past, and has cleared more than +£20,000 of profit for the citizens out of the business. There is huge +rejoicing on the Clyde, and no wonder, as the result is due to sheer +good management, without over-charging the public or over-driving the +drivers. The Tramways Committee reports:—</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p>Further, the Committee have given effect to what they believe to +be the general feeling of the citizens—viz., that the cars, which +necessarily form a notable feature of the streets of the city, +should not only be tasteful in design and colour, and comfortable +for passengers, but also that their general appearance should not be +marred or their destinations obscured by advertisements.</p></div> + +<p>Moral for many southern railway, tram, and omnibus companies—Go and do +likewise! Moral for Glasgow citizens—Get carried over your tram-lines +often enough, and you'll carry over a big dividend to decrease your +next year's rates!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sub-lime!</span>—This is how "business" is transacted by some of the +Youghal Town Commissioners. The question was—who should supply them +with lime!</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p><i>Mr. Kennedy.</i> I propose that thirty-nine barrels be bought and paid +for.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Loughlan.</i> I propose that he supply the lime at 1<i>s.</i> per barrel.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Long</i> (<i>warmly</i>). I say the Board can't do anything of the kind.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Loughlan.</i> You'll get choked if you don't keep cool (<i>laughter</i>).</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Long</i> (<i>excitedly</i>). Take care of your windpipe (<i>laughter</i>). I +suppose he gave you a few good lumps of lime (<i>loud laughter</i>).</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Loughlan</i> (<i>jumping up excitedly</i>). Now that is a gross insult.</p> + +<p><i>The Chairman.</i> Order, order, gentlemen.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Youghal's worried chairman raised a cry of "Order!"—when<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lump of old white limestone took him in the abdomen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he smiled a wan official smile and walked out at the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the tongues of <span class="smcap">Long</span> and <span class="smcap">Loughlan</span> interested him no more.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Porkers and Paupers.</span>—Bath Workhouse pigs "live on the best of +good cheer" in the form and substance of milk, so the municipal pork +and rate-aided bacon ought to be prime. The <i>Bristol Mercury</i> reports a +meeting of the Bath guardians, when</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Manchip</span> called attention to the fact that some of the +children did not even touch their milk gruel and dry bread which +was served out for breakfast. On Friday morning when the visitors +were at the Workhouse at seven o'clock two buckets of milk gruel +were taken out to the pigs. Mr. <span class="smcap">Manchip</span> proposed that the +Medical Officer be asked if he would be good enough at his earliest +convenience to consider whether a change could be made in the +children's diet. The Chairman thought if the gruel was sweetened with +a spoonful of treacle the children would then like it. It was agreed +to give the Chairman's suggestion a fortnight's trial.</p></div> + +<p>Congratulations to the Bath children on being e-manchip-ated from their +old diet!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>For securing "absolute impartiality" in conferring the prizes at the +Llanelly National Eisteddfod, the judges had "a pit dug for them," +into which they disappeared during the progress of competitions, +so that participators could not "fix them with a glittering +eye," and compel them (by hypnotic means) to award a prize. Sir +<span class="smcap">Joseph Barnby</span>—warbling, <i>sotto voce</i>, "This is my time for +disappearing"—greatly enjoyed these dives to the bottom of the well +in search of Truth, and no doubt the novel departure "assisted" the +blindness of Justice. But, so far as dignity is concerned, "Oh! the +pit-y of it."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We read of a cooky at Claughton,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In music she was a self-taught'un;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But her mistress, I fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Said 'twas nothing but beer<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>that caused her cook to vociferate hymns and, in her harmonious +enthusiasm, to return home towards midnight and hammer loudly at the +door. We know not whether this melodious <i>cuisinière's</i> recipe for +cleaning fire-irons "with a wet rag and a bucket of water" is to be +found in Mrs. <span class="smcap">Glasse's</span> <i>Art of Cookery</i>, but the learned Judge +decided in favour of the mistress, against whom <span class="smcap">Mary Rogers</span> (a +poetical name forsooth) brought an action for unjustifiable dismissal. +Alas! poor cook. She must, henceforward, do her stewing without singing +and her "mashes" without melody.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>When Mr. <span class="smcap">Henry McCalmont</span> gives "receptions" they will be +styled, not "<i>soirées</i>," but "After-Newnes."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 558px;"> +<a href="images/062full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/062.jpg" width="558" height="700" alt="DOTH NOT A 'MEETING' LIKE THIS MAKE AMENDS" /> +</a> +<div class="caption">"DOTH NOT A 'MEETING' LIKE THIS MAKE AMENDS?"</div> + +<p><i>Duke of W-stm-nst-r</i> (<i>as they come out of the Hall, Chester</i>). +"<span class="smcap">Excellent Speech, Sir! So very kind of you to come!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Mr. G.</i> "<span class="smcap">Don't mention it, Duke. If there's one thing I like more +than another, it's a Non-Political Meeting!</span>"</p></div> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;"> +<a href="images/063full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/063.jpg" width="750" height="636" alt="A SOLILOQUY IN ST. JAMES'S PARK" /> +</a> +<div class="caption">A SOLILOQUY IN ST. JAMES'S PARK.</div> + + +<p class="center">(<i>By a Socialistic Loafer.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Besoide the worter in Sin Jimes's Pork,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've stritched meself ter snooze hunder this ole tree—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But cawn't, fur all the keckle, screech, an' squork,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From these yere ducks an' swans, an' sim'lar poultry!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Them fowls is kep' up orf the Nytion's fun's;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If yer chucked stones at 'em there'd be a fuss mide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They're reg'lar bustin' with the kikes an' buns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As they gits frowed by hevery kiddy's nuss-mide!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'll lay a femily cud liv fur weeks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On arf the screps them lyzy hoidle ducks re-jecks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">hevery hour, a-turnin' up their beaks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' wallerin' in comfit an' in lux'ry!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whoy should the loikes o' them 'ave hall the luck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoile sech as me——? It's skendalus, I s'y 'tis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That—jest becos I ain't a bloomin' duck—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sercoiety don't grub and board me grytis!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some d'y we'll mike hour vices 'eard, in 'owls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O' ryge, an' s'y to—well, no matter <i>'oo</i> it is—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ain't we more fit ter live nor worter-fowls?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We're yumin beans—not feathered sooperflooities!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'd cop thet one jess waddlin' hup the grorss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' twist 'is neck—'e's honly fit fur cookin';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would, on <i>prinserple</i>, as bold as brorss—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If that there bloomin' Keeper wasn't lookin'!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Oh! Liza.</span>"—Another subject for <span class="smcap">Chevalier</span>. A special +meeting was held in Liverpool to protest against the presence of +Cockney costers who, it was asserted, seriously injured the business +of Liverpudlian "market-tenants." Mr. <span class="smcap">Walker</span> (is he of the +celebrated Hookey branch of the family?) averred that he had "seen a +coster with his barrow standing before the <span class="smcap">Lord Mayor's</span> shop +for half-an-hour." Our sympathetic soul weeps at this gross injustice +to the worthy syndic, and we trust it will not cost-er him too much. +But, as the lawyer remarked, <i>de costibus non est disputandum</i>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">C. C. News. Latest (last Thursday) as to School Board +Squabbles.</span>—Mr. <span class="smcap">Bowie</span> wanted to have his Bowie-knife into +Mr. <span class="smcap">Diggle</span> and others; but was prevented. A <span class="smcap">Bowie</span>, +not very sharp and without point, is rather a useless weapon in a fight.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Wurm Wurk!</span>"—At Bexhill-on-Sea the "Improvement +Committee"—(how wise of Bexhill-on-Sea to have instituted a +permanent "Improvement Committee," otherwise it might become +Bexhill-<i>at</i>-Sea!)—has engaged the exclusive services of Herr +<span class="smcap">Wurm</span> and his band. New motto for this new watering-place, "The +Early Beaks-'ll catch the Wurm." The musical <i>pabulum</i> here provided +will be known as "the Diet of Wurm's." Band to play during every meal. +Likewise "Wurm Baths" with music. The eminent conductor will Wurm +himself into favour with everyone.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The <i>Daily Telegraph</i> notifies a novelty in return tickets introduced +by the South London Electric Railway. "The return half of the ticket is +usable at any time." The idea being not "Go as you please," but "Go as +we (the Co.) please, and come back as you like."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<a href="images/064full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/064.jpg" width="800" height="565" alt="THE EXTINCTION OF THE HORSE" /> +</a><div class="caption">THE EXTINCTION OF THE HORSE.</div> + +<p><i>Squire.</i> "<span class="smcap">Isn't that the Mare, Coper, you hoped to make three +figures of as a Lady's Hack!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Local Dealer.</i> "<span class="smcap">Yes, Sir, this is her, worse luck! She'll have to +go for a 'Cabber' now—unless I boil her down for Bicycle Oil!"</span></p></div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">LA GÉOGRAPHIE DE LONDRES.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>À Monsieur Punch.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Monsieur</span>,—<i>Je viens d'arriver</i>—but hold! I go to write in +english, which I know enough well. I am come to London to this Congress +of Geographs. I cross the Sleeve—<i>la Manche</i>, how say you? Ah <i>la +douleureuse traversée</i>, the dolorous traversy! In fine, the train +arrives at a station. I seek, I regard, I read the soap, the mustard, +the other <i>réclames</i>—how say you?—but not the name of the station. +Then a cry, "Londonbridg!" Ah, it is the station of London! <i>Sapristi</i>, +how she is little this station! <i>La gare de Londres</i> no more great than +a station of <i>banlieue</i>, near to Paris. Eh well, I descend immediately. +I seek my baggages, I go to find a <i>fiacre</i>, a "ansom." Then in English +I say to the coacher, "George Street, Number Forty." "Olraïttseu," say +he. What is this that this is that that? I comprehend not. But all of +same I mount in carriage and we part.</p> + +<p>Soon we arrive. Hold! This is a street of commerce; there is there but +offices. And not of number forty.</p> + +<p>"Nottir, maounsiah?" say the coacher. Ah, I comprehend! "No," say I, +"not here." "Minnoriss," say he. "How?" say I; but we are in road. +Hold! Again a street of commerce—but of the most villain. I anger +myself. I cry, "Coacher, I have said you George Street." "Olraïtt, +maounsiah," say he, "this is George Street." "Not here," I respond. "Is +there two George Streets?" Then he swear, he laugh; he ask that he may +be blown; he say more, that I comprehend not. In fine, he say, "Taoua +Ill." Again a George Street. But here some warehouses only. Then the +coacher say, "Shoditch," and we go. Again a George Street! Still more +small! Again one time I anger myself. I ask to him, "Where go you?" He +say, "Which George Street is it?" I say, "George Street, London." Then +he laugh again, and he swear; and he say, "Ollaouai." Again a George +Street! <i>Tiens, c'est embêtant!</i> But it is but a street of commerce, +and very little. "Islingtonn," say he. What! again a George Street? +<i>Sapristi! Quelle ville!</i> If they love the name of George, these +English! But, no, still a poor little street. "Blakfraïahs," say the +coacher. We traverse some streets, some streets, without end! In fine, +see there number forty. But it is a little shop. <i>Mille tonnerres! Pas +encore!</i> "Youstonn Road," say he. Again some streets, some streets, +without end! And again a street of commerce. And again the number forty +is a shop! <i>Sacré nom d'une pipe!</i> "Lissn Grov," say he. Again some +<i>kilomètres</i> to traverse. What! Again a George Street? How many of them +is there, of these George Streets? And again, as you say in english, +"No go." But all of same we go, for the coacher say "Manshestasquaiah." +I shut myself the eyes, and I repose myself.</p> + +<p>Ah, that values better! In fine, a better street. And see, there number +forty! What joy! In fine, I arrive. How it is fatiguing, this course +in London, long of three hours or more! I descend. I demand my friend. +What? He live not here? He is gone? <i>A la bonne heure!</i> "One more," say +the coacher. "What," I cry, "again a George Street?" "Yess, maounsiah, +Annovasquaiah." Then this one is not the house of my friend, this one +is not the George Street that I seek! <i>Que le diable enlève</i>——</p> + +<p>But we continue, we arrive, in fine, it is here. All exhausted I +descend. How much pays one the course in London? In Paris it is 1·50. +Ah! in London it must be one shilling and half. This one has been a +long course; I go to give a good <i>pourboire</i>, one shilling. I offer +to the cabman two shillings and half. Then he cry, he swear, he +descend, he wish to fight me. I say, "It is not enough? How much?" +He say, "Tenbobb." What is this that this is that that? In fine, my +friends come from the house, they explain that that wishes to say, +"Ten shillings," they say he has reason, and I pay him. It costs dear +the cab of London. But it is equal to me, for now I go to pronounce a +discourse before the Geographical Congress on the George Streets of +London. He will be of the most interestings, of the most curious. I beg +you, Mister <i>Punch</i>, to make me the honour of to come to hear him, and +to agree the assurance of my sentiments the most distinguished.</p> + +<p class="author"> +<span class="smcap">Auguste.</span> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">THE POLITICAL UGLY DUCKLING.</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>Fragments of a Brummagem Fairy Tale.</i>)</p> + +<p>It was in a big town in the Midlands that the Ugly Duckling first +chipped shell. "<i>Cheek! Cheek! Cheek!</i>" squeaked the youngster as he +crept out. How big and ugly he was, to be sure! Not a bit like the +other ducklings. In fact he was a portent, and a puzzle.</p> + +<p>However, the ugly, grey-coated youngster, took to the water, and swam +about like the rest. "He's every inch my own child, after all," said +the old duck. "And really he's very pretty, when one comes to look at +him attentively. Quack! quack!" added she; "now, come along, and I'll +take you into high society. Now move on, and mind you cackle properly, +and bow your head before that old duck yonder, who is the noblest born +of them all. Now bend your neck, and say 'Quack!'"</p> + +<p>But the Ugly Duckling was an odd bird, as well as an ill-favoured one, +and gave much trouble and excited much jealousy in the duck-yard. He +quacked indeed, but he would not bend his head or bow to the old duck +properly.</p> + +<p>"He remained too long in the egg-shell," mused the maternal bird; "and +therefore his figure, like his manners, is not properly formed on the +true duck model. But as he's a male duck it won't matter so much. I +think he'll prove strong, and be able to fight his way through the +world." Which was true.</p> + +<p class="center"> * * *</p> + +<p>But at first the Ugly Duckling had a baddish time of it. He was bitten, +pushed about, and made game of, not only by the ducks, but by the hens. +They all declared he was much too big, and fancied himself too much. +He certainly was not graceful, and he had a cocky, self-assertive +air which irritated the Conservative Old Cockalorums. He was always +making unexpected and unducklike sorties, "alarums and excursions," +and lifting up his raucus-caucus voice against the time-honoured rules +and respectable conventions of the duck-pond. So much so, that they +nicknamed him the "Daring Duckling," and prophesied that he would come +to a bad end.</p> + +<p>So he ran away, and flew over the palings.</p> + +<p class="center"> * * *</p> + + +<p>He had many adventures, and various. He dwelt for a time with a lot +of wild ducks in a marsh, and even struck up a sort of friendship +for a swarm of wild geese, who wanted to do away with domestication +and destroy the "tame villatic" tendencies of gregarious goosedom, +and abolish barn-yards and duck-ponds, peacocks, and game-fowls, and +guinea-hens, and poulterer's shops, and <i>pâté de foie gras</i>, and other +checks on liberty and incentives to luxury. But somehow he didn't get +on with the wild ducks for long. He was so much wilder than they, and +wanted his own way too much and too often for the old and recognised +leaders of their flocks. And as to the wild geese, why he soon lost +sympathy with their "revolutionary programmes" and "subversive +schemes," which he learned to regard indeed as a sort of wild goose +chase, and deride and denounce as vehemently as he had aforetime +praised them.</p> + +<p>"I think I'll take my chance, and go abroad into the wide world," said +the Duckling.</p> + +<p class="center"> * * *</p> + + +<p>One evening, just as the sun was setting, there came a whole flock of +beautiful large birds from a grove. The Ugly Duckling had never seen +any so lovely before. They were dazzlingly white, with long graceful +necks: they were swans. They uttered a peculiar cry, and then spread +their magnificent wings and away they flew from this cold country to +warmer lands across the open sea, as was their usual custom. They rose +so high that the Ugly Duckling felt a strange sensation come over him, +a sort of delicious vertigo. He turned round and round in the water +like a wheel, stretched his neck up into the air toward them, and +uttered so loud and strange a cry that he was frightened at it himself. +Oh! never could he again forget those beautiful, happy birds, so +gracefully fleeting against a primrose sky. He knew not how those birds +were called, nor whither they were bound, but he felt an affection for +them, such as he had never yet experienced for any living creature. +And he more and more lost love for, and patience with, all his old +associates, ducks or geese, wild or domesticated.</p> + +<p class="center"> * * *</p> + + +<p>The Ugly Duckling now felt able to flap his wings. They rustled much +louder than before, and bore him away most sturdily; and before long he +found himself in a noble park, a nobleman's park; indeed, the dainty +demesne of one of those who "toil not neither do they spin." It was +quite Beaconsfieldian in its beauty, with its smooth emerald sward and +umbrageous elm-avenues, its dusky cedar clumps and tail-spreading, +crest-sunning peacocks.</p> + +<p>"Dear me!" mused the Ugly Duckling. "It is strange, but <i>I feel quite +at home here!!!</i>"</p> + +<p>Three magnificent white swans now emerged from the thicket before him; +they flapped their wings and then swam lightly on the surface of the +water. The larger one (whose beak bore the letter S as a "nick") was +dark and haughty of mien, the second (whose beak was branded B) was +slim and exceeding graceful; whilst the third, a solid and even rather +sullen-looking bird, was beak-stamped with a legible D.</p> + +<p>"I will fly towards these royal birds," cried the Ugly Duckling. And he +flew into the water, and swam towards those stately swans, who turned +to meet him with sail-like wings the moment they saw him.</p> + +<p>"Why, he is one of us!" said the darker and statelier of the three. +"Almost!" he added, <i>sotto voce</i>.</p> + +<p>The Ugly Duckling was startled at the remark. But looking at his +reflection in the smooth lake he was more startled still. His own image +was to his eyes no longer that of the Daring Duckling, much less of the +Ugly One. It was smart, smooth, sleek, swelling, in fact swan-like!!! +At any rate, he thought so, and so, indeed, the other three swans +seemed to think.</p> + +<p>He preened his feathers, and puffed forth his plumes. He flapped his +wings, and arched his neck, as he cried in the fullness of his heart:—</p> + +<p>"I never dreamed of such happiness when I was the Brummagem Ugly +Duckling."</p> + +<p class="center"> * * *</p> + + +<p>It matters not being born in a duck-yard if one is hatched from a +swan's egg!</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 295px;"> +<a href="images/065full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/065.jpg" width="295" height="300" alt="untitled - reading in bed" /> +</a></div> + +<p><i>In Leisure Time</i>, by <span class="smcap">W. S. Mavor</span> (<span class="smcap">Elliot Stock</span>) is, +so my Baronite reports, a daintily-bound little volume of blameless +verse, unambitious, as may be inferred from its title. The author +writes like a classical scholar, his lines are fluent and melodious, +his metre and rhyme unimpeachable, while some of the poems, such as +"Zaleucus" and "A Vision," rise distinctly above the general level. +In others there are passages which my Baronite—a sadly prosaic and +matter-of-fact person—owns to having found slightly obscure.</p> + +<p>For example, in the following couplet:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In vain the fickle demon sports<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With fetid remnants of decay."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<p>He quite failed to discover what particular—or rather anything <i>but</i> +particular—demon is referred to, or why he should amuse himself in so +eccentric and unpleasant a manner.</p> + +<p>Nor, my Baronite says, was his conception of contentment greatly +assisted by this somewhat complicated comparison:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Contentment is a love-commissioned barque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sailing a self-less sea—a sea whose flood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is ordered alway by the laughing guns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Virtue's fortalice, whose armament,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Primed with rose-petal powder, doth discharge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In generous rounds of sympathy with all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scattering happiness, whose smile betrays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pangless hurt."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But that, he is quite willing to admit, may be rather the fault of his +own imagination than the poet's. Again, in a poem entitled "Love's +Messengers," the author writes:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Flit thou along on softly feathered feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Noiseless, thou shadowy-pinioned minister,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gently fan, <i>with midnight gale</i>, my sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Lest thou awaken her."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Which, to my Baronite, suggests the difficulty that, if the minister +fans the lady with his shadowy pinions "gently," he will fail to +produce anything resembling a "midnight gale"; on the other hand, if he +performs the part of invisible punkah so energetically as to suggest +a gale, he can hardly help awakening her unless she is a very heavy +sleeper indeed—and <i>might</i> give her a cold in the head. Surely this is +rather an unfair dilemma on which to place a feathered minister of any +denomination.</p> + +<p>But after all, poetry, as my Baronite fully recognises, is not meant to +be judged by so literal a standard, and it may be cheerfully conceded +that there are many people who make a less profitable use of their +"Leisure Time" than Mr. <span class="smcap">Mavor</span> has done. In which opinion +concurs</p> + +<p class="author"> +<span class="smcap">The Leisurely Baron de Book-Worms</span>. +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hop(e)ful Liberalism in Kent.</span>—Sir <span class="smcap">Israel Hart</span> of +Hythe, thinks that if his friends do their work well, he may yet +find in the Hytheians an Israel-light-hearted constituency. Sir +<span class="smcap">Israel</span> is a <i>Jew d'esprit</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> +<a href="images/066full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/066.jpg" width="700" height="411" alt="THE BICYCLE AGAIN" /> +</a><div class="caption">THE BICYCLE AGAIN.</div> + +<p><i>Applicant for the Situation of Cook.</i> "<span class="smcap">Before I go, please, Ma'am, +may I ask your Servant to show me the Basement? I must see that you +have a convenient place for my Bicycle!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Mistress.</i> "<span class="smcap">Of course I have seen to that. You will find a +Room set apart. Only I must tell you that I don't allow Rational +Dress!</span>"</p></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">FOR THE TAILORS' CONGRESS AT VERVIERS.</p> + +<p>1. Why should it take nine tailors to make a man?</p> + +<p>2. Ought you cut a coat according to your cloth, or according to the +fashion?</p> + +<p>3. How do you cook a tailor's goose? Should it be basted?</p> + +<p>4. In England is the most suitable seaside resort for tailors +Weskit-on-Sea, or Sheerness <i>sur la côte</i>?</p> + +<p>5. Shall a prize be given for the best essay on the advantage of having +a pair of Pantaloons on the stage in a Pantomime?</p> + +<p>6. Is it a matter of universal complaint that a tailor should not be +allowed to play billiards because he scarcely passes a day without +cutting a cloth?</p> + +<p>7. What price for the best tale of a coat?</p> + +<p>8. Is it proved to satisfaction that <span class="smcap">Shakspeare</span> was a tailor +from the fact of his having written <i>Measure for Measure</i>?</p> + +<p>9. Whether, for the next International Yacht Race, the tailors should +enter a cutter?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Good Badminton.</span>—Among the contents of <span class="smcap">Longman's</span> +<i>Badminton Magazine</i> is an article by the Markiss o' <span class="smcap">Granby</span> +on Grouse; <span class="smcap">Susan</span>, not Black-eyed nor Rebellious, but Countess +of Malmesbury, writes cleverly on her perch, and on the matter of +salmon the Countess would count for a lot in any ex-salmonation. Lord +<span class="smcap">Onslow</span> on slow and on quick bicycling; capital. <span class="smcap">C. B. +Fry</span>, not one of the Small Fry, gives his ideal of a cricketing +day, which is to be known as a "Fry-day." Then who is it writes a +florid account of fishing in Florida? <span class="smcap">O'tis Mygatt.</span> The +question of "What's on at Newmarket?" is pleasantly answered by +<span class="smcap">Alfred Wats-on</span> at Newmarket. On "Old Sporting Prints," +<span class="smcap">Peek</span> writes with point. And on "The Alpine 'Distress Signal' +Scheme" there is a paper by <span class="smcap">C. T. Dent</span>, who has been, more or +less, a Re-si-dent on the spot, as this in-denture witnesseth.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">To the Rank of Major-General have risen!</span>"—<i>Critic.</i> From a +paragraph in last week's <i>Truth</i> we extract the following:—"Another +scandalous 'selection' job has just been perpetrated at the War +Office. Colonel <span class="smcap">Trotter</span>, who has been promoted to the rank of +major-general, has seen no war service, and has no professional claims +whatever upon the authorities." If this information be correct, the +colonel should be remembered by the distinctly Dickensian title of +<i>"Job" Trotter</i>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="ph4">THE LAST KNIGHT OF THE SEASON.</p> + +<p>On Monday, July 29, Sir <span class="smcap">Augustus Harris</span>, bidding farewell to +a typical '95 Covent Garden audience (house crowded in every part), +seized the opportunity to present one of his lightning conductors with +a "<i>bâton</i> of honour." In a spontaneous speech, <span class="smcap">Druriolanus</span> +declared that Signor <span class="smcap">Mancinelli</span> had "worked like a Trojan," +and the announcement was received with sympathetic applause. Still, +it was thought possible by those present that the pleasant and +prosperous <i>impresario</i> was in search of something that he had +seemingly lost—"a little poem of his own." We have no hesitation in +publishing the following lines, entitled <i>Sans Adieu</i>, found in the +neighbourhood of the C. G. orchestra. If they are not from the pen of +<span class="smcap">Druriolanus</span>, they ought to have been:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not farewell, my <span class="smcap">Mancinelli</span>!<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><span class="smcap">Mancinelli</span>, <i>au revoir!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As harmonious <i>fratelli</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">We shall meet again! <i>Espoir!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take, oh take this shining <i>bâton</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You're a marvel! <i>O, si sic!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When you've got it, with your hat on.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>En vacance</i> you'll cut your stick.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You will wave it, you will wield it<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Always, my conductor prime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never up again you'll yield it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ever living to beat time!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grasp it, use it, <span class="smcap">Mancinelli</span>!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Highest praise to you is due!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With it beat Old Time to jelly,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till Conductor Time beats <i>you!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>More Honours.</p> + +<p>Motto for Sir <span class="smcap">William Dunn</span>: "<i>Ce qu'il fait c'est bien fait.</i>" +Likewise "Just Dunn enough."</p> + +<p>For Mr. <span class="smcap">John Tomlinson Brunner, M.P.</span>, a Brunneretcy.</p> + +<p>Motto for Sir <span class="smcap">A. B. Forwood</span>: "<i>En avant! et plus en avant que +jamais.</i>"</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"H.M.S."—Should H.M. the King of the <span class="smcap">Belgians</span> ask <span class="smcap">H. M. +Stanley, M.P.</span>, to return to Congo-land, the inquiry wired will +take this simple form "<i>Congo?</i>" and the answer must be "<i>Can't go</i>." +<i>On dit.</i> The H.M.'s have settled satisfactorily.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Medical Congress.</span>—Explanation:—The "Anti-toxin" party is +against the use of a dinner bell or gong. They do not agree with Lord +<span class="smcap">Byron</span>, "The tocsin of the soul, the dinner bell."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 642px;"> +<a href="images/067full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/067.jpg" width="642" height="800" alt="THE NEW KEEPERS" /></a> +<div class="caption">THE NEW KEEPERS.</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Squire Bull</span> (<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">S-l-sb-ry</span> <i>and</i> +<span class="smcap">Ch-mb-rl-n</span>). "WELL, MY MEN—NOW I'VE TAKEN YOU ON, I SHALL +EXPECT BIGGER BAGS THAN I'VE HAD LATELY."</p></div> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a><br /><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 404px;"> +<a href="images/069full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/069.jpg" width="404" height="500" alt="REMINISCENCE OF A RECENT POLITICAL CONTEST" /> +</a><div class="caption">REMINISCENCE OF A RECENT POLITICAL CONTEST.</div> + +<p><i>Harmless Individual</i> (<i>who has suddenly and unexpectedly been +assaulted and battered by inebriated party</i>). "<span class="smcap">You Scoundrel! +What's the meaning of this?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Inebriated Politician.</i> "<span class="smcap">'Leckshuns, ole F'la! +'Leckshuns!</span>—(<i>hic</i>)——"</p> + +<p class="author">[<i>Comes a cropper himself.</i></p> +</div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">THE MEETING OF THE WATER-RATEPAYERS.</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p>["The New Town Hall in Mare Street, Hackney, was altogether too small +to hold the crowds who came last night (August 1) to protest against +the action of the East London Water Company in cutting down the supply +of water during the past few weeks."—<i>Evening News.</i>]</p></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Air</span>—"<i>The Meeting of the Waters.</i>"</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is not in the whole land a meeting so meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As that of the ratepayers held at Mare Street.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No mare's nest they'd found, no, the Hackneyite heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was hot at the new Water Company start!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It <i>was</i> not that Nature had stinted supply;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Monopolist pretext appears "all my eye."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas <i>not</i> summer parching of river and rill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! no—it was something more troublesome still.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas that greed and neglect had combined, it is clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make East End water deficient and dear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Monopoly now the supply must improve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or more than mere Mare Streets will be on the move.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Big Monopolist Mammon, how calm could you rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With your dividends high in the way you love best;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when water runs short, and diseases increase,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The East End won't leave you and your Water at peace.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gully-ver.</span>—Mr. <span class="smcap">Balfour's</span> decision as to not +disturbing the <span class="smcap">Speaker</span> in his uneasy chair was e-gully +awaited, and is, it is hoped, accepted e-gully by all parties. So now, +in his chair, Mr. <span class="smcap">Gully</span> will reign re-gully.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Latest Fashion.</span>—Bicycle dinners and suppers have been the +vogue. <i>Pièce de résistance</i> is of course "Cold Wheel." This dish is +selected because whatever the number "wheel" is sure to go round.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">LEAVE OF ABSENCE TO AUGUST-OUT DALY CO.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Augustin Daly's</span> Company has left us just as play-goers had +taken a fancy to <i>Nancy & Co</i>. To paraphrase the old refrain—</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And all their fancy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dwelt upon <span class="smcap">Nancy</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The play called <i>Nancy & Co.</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>It went as a lively laughter-raiser should go, with Miss <span class="smcap">Ada +Rehan</span> excellent in every way; Miss <span class="smcap">Maxine Elliot</span> +charming; <span class="smcap">James Lewis</span> inimitably funny, and Mr. +<span class="smcap">Worthing</span> ("quite a Bright'un," as <span class="smcap">Wagstaff</span> says) +capital. That the fun of a farcical comedy should be kept up through +four acts is a tribute to the original work and to the skill of its +adaptor, Mr. <i>Daly</i> himself. <i>"Vive la Compagnie!" et au revoir!</i></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A Sportsman's View of It.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Chamberlain</span> <i>vice</i> <span class="smcap">Rosebery</span>! What fun!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The change means order, peace, and lots of tin for us.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What are the Derbies twain young Primrose won<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the <i>New Markets</i> many <span class="smcap">Joe</span> will win for us?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">"AFTER THE CALL WAS OVER."</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>Notes for an Additional Chapter to the History of Hullibulgaria.</i>)</p> + +<p>The Deputation did their very best. They were most anxious to make +things smooth. "He whom they desired to obey" would wear an inferior +sort of crown, robes of cotton-backed velvet, trimmed with imitation +fur. He would not give away orders—he would only take them. He would +not command the army, save as an agent acting under direction from the +Master. There is nothing he would not do to secure the goodwill of his +great, his benevolent, his all-powerful Master.</p> + +<p>The Bear was very amiable. The Bear was pleased with the Deputation +and with the nation they represented. And having said this, there was +nothing further for the Bear to say.</p> + +<p>"But, most powerful of powers, most clement of sovereignties," urged +the Deputation, "there is another matter needing decision. How about +the Prince?"</p> + +<p>"What Prince?" softly murmured the Bear, in a tone of curiosity +combined with astonishment.</p> + +<p>"The Prince we wish to serve," explained the Deputation; "the Prince +who desires to serve you."</p> + +<p>"Have you read the Treaty of Berlin?" asked Bruin. "It is a most +excellent agreement, and deserves special attention. Does the name of +any Prince appear therein?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied the Deputation; "and the same painful omission is +observable in the <i>Almanac de Gotha</i>. So we would petition on our +knees that the painful omission should be supplied. We ask that the +Prince——"</p> + +<p>"Stop! stop!" cried the Bear. "You are talking of a myth. As Mrs. +<span class="smcap">Gamp</span>—a well-known Englishwoman—once observed, 'I don't +believe there ain't no sech person.' So think I, and so thinks the +Treaty of Berlin."</p> + +<p>And so the Deputation returned from whence they came, and "the Prince" +continued to "take the waters" without obtaining the cure he desired. +It was disappointing to His Highness, but not to the Editor of the +<i>Almanac de Gotha</i>, who found a revised edition of his excellent +periodical was, at least for the present, unnecessary.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>What title will Baron <span class="smcap">de Worms</span> take? Viscount +<span class="smcap">Chrysalis</span>? to end by becoming Le Duc <span class="smcap">de Papillon</span>?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 850px;"> +<a href="images/070full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/070.jpg" width="850" height="582" alt="A PARLIAMENTARY PROSPECT" /> +</a><div class="caption">Br-ce. B-nn-rm-n. Asq-th.<br /> +A PARLIAMENTARY PROSPECT.</div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + +<p class="ph4">PASSION AND POETRY.</p> + + + + + + +<p><i>Sir W. V. H-rc-rt</i> (<i>on Opposition Bench</i>). "<span class="smcap">How hot and +uncomfortable they must be over there! So crowded!</span>"</p></div> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 355px;"> +<a href="images/071full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/071.jpg" width="355" height="550" alt="AN EYE TO EFFECT" /> +</a><div class="caption">AN EYE TO EFFECT.</div> + +<p><i>Little Dives.</i> "<span class="smcap">Oh, by the way, Belairs—awfully sorry to cut +you out, you know—but I've just proposed to Lady Barbara, and she's +accepted me, and we're to be married in September. And look here, Old +Chappie; I want you to be my Best Man. I want to make a good Show at +the Altar, you know!</span>"</p></div> + +<p><br />I was immensely struck, a few days ago, by a passage in a speech +recently delivered by the Archbishop of <span class="smcap">Canterbury</span>, in +which he explained his method of dispelling those passing fits of +ill-temper from which, alas! not even Archbishops are wholly free. "At +times," so ran the report of His Grace's words, "anger or irritation +came upon him, but on the table he kept a book of pleasant poems, +of which he would read a few lines, and the irritation would melt +away." Immediately I determined to follow this noble example. It was +unfortunate that the "book of pleasant poems" was not described more +specifically—could it be the verses of Mr. <span class="smcap">Arthur Christopher +Benson</span>?—but I bought a pocket volume of <i>Selections from the +Great Poets</i>, which contained enough variety to suit every case, and +then looked out for an opportunity of trying the Archbishop's plan.</p> + +<p>I had not long to wait. That very evening I came across my uncle +<span class="smcap">Robert</span> at Clapham Junction, in a furious rage at having +just missed the last train to Slowborough, where he lives. At once +I produced my volume, and in slow and emphatic accents I read aloud +some three or four hundred lines from "Paradise Lost." I was about +to add one or two of <span class="smcap">Wordsworth's</span> sonnets, when I realised +that my uncle had long since disappeared, and that I was surrounded +by a jeering crowd, who evidently supposed me to be a member of the +Salvation Army.</p> + +<p>On the following morning I received a visit from <span class="smcap">Snips</span>, my +tailor. He was impolite enough to suggest a settlement of what he +termed my "small account," a demand, as I politely but plainly assured +him, which was altogether absurd. As he showed distinct symptoms of +irritation at this juncture, I began to read him a scene from <i>Measure +for Measure</i>. Strangely enough, this seemed only to irritate him +further, and I understand that he intends to take proceedings against +me in the County Court. This second unaccountable failure of the +Archbishop's remedy greatly surprised and pained me, but I decided to +give it another trial.</p> + +<p>This morning I was playing golf with my friend <span class="smcap">Macfoozle</span>. +At no time a skilful golfer, <span class="smcap">Macfoozle's</span> form to-day was +worse than ever; whenever he made a bad stroke—and he seldom made +a good one—he indulged in the most violent language. Fortunately +my volume of poetry was in my pocket. When he completely missed his +drive at the second hole, I read him <span class="smcap">Coleridge's</span> <i>Dejection</i>. +When he broke his mashie at the fourth, I treated him with copious +selections from <i>In Memoriam</i>. Finally, he got badly bunkered while +playing to the fourteenth hole. For some ten minutes he smote furiously +with his niblick, only raising prodigious clouds of sand as the +result of his efforts. This was clearly a golden opportunity for the +Archbishop's cure, "anger and irritation" but faintly represented +<span class="smcap">Macfoozle's</span> rage. Seating myself on the edge of the bunker, +I began to read aloud <i>The Ring and the Book</i> with the utmost pathos. +Over what followed I prefer to draw a veil. It is enough to say that a +niblick is a very effective weapon, and that I write these lines in bed.</p> + +<p>When I recover, I really must call at Lambeth for fuller directions. +The archiepiscopal remedy for angry passions does not seem invariably +happy in its results, as far as my experience goes.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Malt-Liquor-Tippler's Maxim.</span>—<i>"Nihil ale-ienum a me +pewter":</i>—"Nothing in the shape of beer comes amiss to me if it's in a +pewter."</p> + + + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">A Chip to the Champion.</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p>[Mr. <span class="smcap">Ranjitsinhji</span> is running Mr. <span class="smcap">W. G. Grace</span> very +close in the batting averages.]</p></div> + +<p><i>To the ancient air of "Cheer up Sam!"</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Buck-up, Grace!</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And don't let your average down!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For "<span class="smcap">Ranjit</span>" seems running you hard for first place,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To collar your Cricketing Crown!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Proud o' the Title.</span>"—Sir <span class="smcap">Henry James</span> to be "Lord +<span class="smcap">Jeames</span>." How delighted <span class="smcap">W. M. Thackeray</span> would have +been!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">By a Reasonable Rad.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Why</i> were we whipped? Rads wrangle round,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But to <i>the</i> cause make scant allusion.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all's summed up, it will be found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Fusion" has won against <i>Con</i>-fusion!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Suggestion.</span>—In latest <i>Observer</i> is a capital article by +Mr. <span class="smcap">Escott</span>, whose text is that "smart" Society transplants to +London all Parisian fashions that will bear the process. The title is +"British Boulevardism;" but one still more suggestive of the mixture +would be "John-Bullvardism." Perhaps Mr. <span class="smcap">Escott</span> may adopt this +and give us another column.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">ROUNDABOUT READINGS.</p> + +<p>In a biographical sketch of the late Rev. Dr. <span class="smcap">Julius Hawley +Seelye</span>, formerly President of Amherst College, in America, I +read that "Amherst made him President notwithstanding considerable +opposition in the faculty. He soon overcame that, and advanced the +prosperity of the College in the accessions to its faculty and +endowments that he secured. He soon required the students to sign an +agreement to be gentlemen. A violation of the pledge resulted in the +termination of their careers at Amherst." This sounds strange, for it +would appear that if no pledge had been given the students might have +behaved as they liked, without terminating their careers. The idea of +solemnly pledging yourself to be a gentleman is quite colossal.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 267px;"> +<a href="images/072full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/072.jpg" width="267" height="300" alt="untitled" /></a> +</div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The Independent Labour Party is not dead yet. It is forming clubs, +just like any ordinary humdrum party. The <i>Western Daily Press</i> +reports that "At a special meeting held at <span class="smcap">Lee's</span> Coffee +Tavern, Bath Bridge, last night, when there were present Mr. <span class="smcap">W. +S. M. Knight</span>, president of the Bristol South Independent Labour +Party (in the chair), Messrs. <span class="smcap">A. Browne</span>, <span class="smcap">E. B. Hack</span>, +<span class="smcap">C. Vale</span>, <span class="smcap">C. F. Brocklehurst</span>, <span class="smcap">T. Pole</span>, <span class="smcap">C. +Parker</span>, and <span class="smcap">W. Price</span>, it was unanimously decided to open +a club for Totterdown and the East Ward of Bedminster in connection +with the Independent Labour Party. Officers and a committee were +appointed, and suitable headquarters for the club were decided upon." +Nothing could be more appropriate. Totterdown suggests decrepitude and +failure (in this case at least), and Bedminster hints at repose and +peace. I offer the suggestion and the hint gratis to the Independent +Labour Windbags.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The Loveday Street Canal Bridge (which is, I fancy, in Birmingham) is +evidently a demon bridge with a depraved taste for injuring children. +One day last week it threw <span class="smcap">John Chick</span>, aged seven, off and +broke one of his legs. About five hours later, resenting an attempt on +the part of <span class="smcap">Thomas Walton</span>, aged twelve, to climb it, it flung +him off on to the towing-path and injured his back. A few days before +that it had precipitated the same <span class="smcap">Thomas Walton</span> into the +water, whence he was rescued with some difficulty. Evidently this is a +bridge with an ungovernable temper, and the authorities should guard it +efficiently.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><i>The Scotsman</i> informs me that "speaking the other day at Haddington, +Mr. <span class="smcap">Balfour</span> glanced scathingly at those politicians of the +baser sort who seek to confuse great issues by dragging to the front +petty or irrelevant questions, and the breath of whose nostrils is +the disturbance of the harmony which should subsist between class +and class of the community." On this two questions arise. The first +is how Mr. <span class="smcap">Balfour</span>, an amiable gentleman, managed to glance +scathingly. To scath, as I learn from the dictionary, means to hurt, +to injure; and, personally, I cannot imagine Mr. <span class="smcap">Balfour</span> +infusing very much venom into a mere glance of his expressive eye. The +second question is how politicians, even of the baser sort, can go on +living when their unfortunate lungs are filled with a disturbance of +harmony. That they should have sufficient strength left to drag to the +front petty or irrelevant questions is nothing short of a marvel, due +allowance being made for metaphors.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A golfer is in trouble, and has confided his difficulties to <i>Golf</i>.</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p>Whilst playing on the links at Streetly, on July 16, he drove a ball, +which apparently fell clear, but which for some time could not be +found. After some little hunting it was discovered under a small tuft +of heather in a lark's nest, resting on the back of a young lark, +apparently about four days old, together with three lark's eggs, +which were quite intact. The golfer was obliged, of course, to lift +the ball and place it behind, as it would have been gross cruelty to +have played it from the nest. It was match play. Under the exceptional +circumstances was he bound to lose the hole? The editor replies that +if a player were a stickler for the law and nothing but the law, he, +of course, would be entitled to enforce it against his opponent who +found the ball in the nest.</p></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A tee for your ball, you may fashion of sand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Which is found in the sugar you use for your tea);<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then you spread your legs wide, and you take a firm stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And away with a whack goes the ball flying free.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If it flies like a bird, there's no need to explain;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If not, then the ways of that golfer are dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who attempts, though the effort is doomed to be vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To stand, taking tee on the back of a lark.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>There has been some excitement at Weston-super-Mare. The "Conservative +party organized a reception for the Hon. <span class="smcap">G. H. Jolliffe</span> on his +first appearance in the town since his election for the Wells division. +Arrangements were made for those intending to take part in the +procession to meet the hon. gentleman at the Potteries on his return +from Banwell Horse Show at 7 p.m., but he arrived in the town a quarter +of an hour too early, and scores of enthusiasts were disappointed. +Those, however, who happened to be early enough followed the hon. +gentleman, some on foot and others in cabs, to the Royal Hotel, the +Town Band heading the procession. Mr. <span class="smcap">Jolliffe</span> rode on a coach +drawn by four horses, and was supported by several of the leaders of +the party in the town. Subsequently he addressed those assembled." +But if Mr. <span class="smcap">Jolliffe</span> rode on a coach, why was it necessary to +support him? Moreover, seeing that it was a four-horse affair, it seems +unjust that the leaders should be talked of and that no mention at all +should be made of the wheelers.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nana Sahib</span> has died once more.</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p>A Mr. <span class="smcap">William Brown</span>, who was formerly an officer in the East +India Company's service, and is now residing at San Francisco, gives +the following particulars regarding the fate of <span class="smcap">Nana Sahib</span>. +Mr. <span class="smcap">Brown</span> says that he was commodore of the Ganges Fleet +in the Indian Mutiny, and was attacked by Sepoys under <span class="smcap">Nana +Sahib</span> himself, who was shot in the fighting, and afterwards died +on board Mr. <span class="smcap">Brown's</span> ship. <span class="smcap">Nana Sahib's</span> body was +then cremated, and the ashes were committed to the river.</p></div> + +<p>Why, oh why, has Mr. <span class="smcap">Brown</span>, whom I heartily congratulate on +clearing up the mystery, kept silence for nearly forty years? And, by +the way, which Mr. <span class="smcap">William Brown</span> is he? There must be a good +many <span class="smcap">William Brown's</span> even in San Francisco. Before concluding +that the matter is definitely settled, I should like to hear Mr. +<span class="smcap">Henry Smith</span>, Mr. <span class="smcap">Richard Robinson</span>, and Mr. <span class="smcap">John +Jones</span> on the subject.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">WHERE NOT TO GO.</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>Hints by our Pessimist Passenger.</i>)</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Amsterdam.</i>—Too much sea before you get there.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Boulogne.</i>—Not particularly pleasant at low tide.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Cologne.</i>—The reverse of fragrant at all times.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Dieppe.</i>—The trap of the tripper.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Etretat.</i>—No longer what it was.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Frankfort.</i>—Only good for a change of money.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Geneva.</i>—Dull and dear.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Heidelberg.</i>—Too much hill, and too little castle.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Interlaken.</i>—The 'appy 'ome of <span class="smcap">'Arry</span>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Jura Pass.</i>—Sure find for <span class="smcap">Brown</span>, <span class="smcap">Jones</span>, and <span class="smcap">Robinson</span>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Karlsbad.</i>—Kill or cure.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Lyons.</i>—Apotheosis of silk monotonous.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Marseilles.</i>—Good place for musquitoes, bad for all else.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Nice.</i>—Too near to Monte Carlo.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Ouchy.</i>—Hotel good, but surroundings superfluous.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Paris.</i>—Too hot. Theatres closed and wideawakes seen on the boulevards.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Quebec.</i>—Dangerous rival to Bath, Coventry, and Jericho.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Rotterdam.</i>—Worthy of its name.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Suez.</i>—Not comparable to Cairo.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Trouville.</i>—Requires antedating a quarter of a century.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Uig.</i>—Skyed and out of reach.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Venice.</i>—Vulgarised by the steam launches.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Wiesbaden.</i>—Has not yet recovered the loss of its table.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Xerez.</i>—Long journey for a glass of sherry.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Yokohama.</i>—Not a patch upon Pekin.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Zurich.</i>—Alliterative attraction for zomebody.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">A BONNE BOUCHE.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Wagstaff.</i> Ah! I have lived many years in the bush.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Leo Hunter.</i> How interesting! I suppose you must have become +almost savage!</p> + +<p><i>Mr. W. Frequently</i>, when I couldn't get a 'bus or a cab.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. L. H.</i> (<i>utterly astonished</i>). A 'bus or a cab! in the bush!!</p> + +<p><i>Mr. W.</i> (<i>pleasantly</i>). Ah, yes; I was talking of "Shepherd's Bush." +Good morning.</p> + +<p class="stage">[<i>Exit chuckling.</i></p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p>⁂ <i>Note by the Bird in the Bush.</i>—In future this +little jest of <span class="smcap">Waggy's</span> will be impossible, as it is proposed +to re-name Shepherd's Bush, and call it Pastoral Park, or All-Askew +Park, or something of the sort.]</p></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Sortes Shaksperianæ.</span>"—On the new Postmaster-General:—</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p> + +"Friend post the Duke of <span class="smcap">Norfolk</span>."<br /> +<br /> +<i>Richard the Third</i>, Act iv., Scene 4.<br /> +</p></div> + + +<p>And we hope his Grace will be "Friend post," and benefit us all.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A volume of Reminiscences by <span class="smcap">Henry Russell</span> is promised. +Evidently this ought to be a "Cheery, Boys, Cheery" sort of book.</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG 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--- /dev/null +++ b/44809-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c74882 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #44809 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44809) diff --git a/old/44809-8.txt b/old/44809-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1b059a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/44809-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1606 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 109, +August 10, 1895, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 109, August 10, 1895 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis Burnand + +Release Date: January 31, 2014 [EBook #44809] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 109. + +_August 10, 1895._ + + + + +A PSALM OF AUGUST. + +(_For the Circular Tourist_.) + + Tell me not, in Summer numbers, + "Holidays are but a dream!" + If you hold that vacs are slumbers, + Well--things are not what they seem. + + COOK is real! GAZE is earnest! + And the earth's end is their goal; + "Bust" thou art, and "bust" returnest, + Sing they to the tripper's soul. + + Not enjoyment--rather, sorrow + Greets the tourist on his way; + His to toil, that each to-morrow + Find him farther on his way. + + Tours are long, and Time is fleeting, + While we dire discomfort brave; + In globe-trotting, record-beating, + Pleasure surely finds its grave. + + Let us, still, each town be "doing," + Since "tow-rowing" is our fate-- + Then, half-dead with guide-pursuing, + Brag o'er those at home who wait! + + * * * * * + +"FORWOOD BOYS."--Sir ARTHUR FORWOOD, the new Baronet, +observes the Day-by-Day-istical writer in the _Daily Telegraph_, "is +not to be confounded with his brother, Sir WILLIAM FORWOOD." +Why not? Why interfere with the liberty of speech on the part of some +Radicals, who might say "Confound 'em both!" Or, in the words of the +National Anthem, "Confound their politics." + + * * * * * + +OMITTED FROM THE GRACIOUS SPEECH OF H.R.H. THE PRINCE OF WALES AT +THE OPENING OF THE SOUTHAMPTON NEW DOCK.--"I appear here as the +Judge, at whose word the prisoner is to be let into the dock, and, +subsequently, let out again. Ladies and gentlemen, the prisoner is--the +water." (_Cheers._) + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: PRESIDING DEITY. 1895. + +VENUS AN--ILINE DYE--OMENE.] + + * * * * * + +JOEYING AT THE PRINCE OF WALES'S. + +There have been JOES not a few on the stage. Coming down from +the time of JOE GRIMALDI, we pass on the way _Joseph Andrews_, +_Poll and Partner Joe_, _Poor Joe_ from _Bleak House_, and many other +JOES until we come to _Gentleman Joe_, hansom cab-driver, +played by ARTHUR ROBERTS. The question and answer in the old +idiotic nigger song applies appropriately here, with slight adaptation: + + What! _de_ JOE? Yes! _de_ JOE. + Spruce JOE kicking up ahind and afore, + KITTY LOFTUS playing up to Mister JOE. + +And with the assistance of the always graceful PHYLLIS +BROUGHTON--of whom _Gentleman Joe_ might have sung, but doesn't, +"PHYLLIS is my only _Fare_"--aided also by the pretty-voiced +LETTIE SEARLE, helped by the sprightly earnestness of Miss +CLARA JECKS, who has turned over a new leaf and come out as a +page, and kept moving by the dashing "go" of Miss SADIE JEROME +(not at all a "sad eye" nor a "say die" sort of young lady) as _Lalage +Potts_, this two-act musical farce, beginning as a kind of _High Life +below Stairs_ and ending anyhow, offering, as it does, opportunities +to Our Only ARTHUR for introducing into it any amount of +"divarsion" in the way of new songs, eccentric speeches, nods, winks, +becks, and wreathed smiles, may be continuing its successful career in +the summer of '96, there being no apparent reason why its run should +ever stop, that is as long as _Gentleman Arthur Joe Roberts_ handles +the ribands as the popular _Cabbing-it Minister_. + + * * * * * + +A NEW TITLE.--Our GRACE, the cricketer, is not made +a "Sir" or raised to a dukedom. There is, however, in view of present +craze, a great chance for conferring the greater honour on a champion +bicyclist. His title would be "The Duke of WHEELINGTON." + + * * * * * + +SCRAPS FROM CHAPS. + +A DIVIDEND DESERVED.--The Glasgow Town Council has been +running its own tram-cars for a year past, and has cleared more than +£20,000 of profit for the citizens out of the business. There is huge +rejoicing on the Clyde, and no wonder, as the result is due to sheer +good management, without over-charging the public or over-driving the +drivers. The Tramways Committee reports:-- + + Further, the Committee have given effect to what they believe to + be the general feeling of the citizens--viz., that the cars, which + necessarily form a notable feature of the streets of the city, + should not only be tasteful in design and colour, and comfortable + for passengers, but also that their general appearance should not be + marred or their destinations obscured by advertisements. + +Moral for many southern railway, tram, and omnibus companies--Go and do +likewise! Moral for Glasgow citizens--Get carried over your tram-lines +often enough, and you'll carry over a big dividend to decrease your +next year's rates! + + * * * * * + +SUB-LIME!--This is how "business" is transacted by some of the +Youghal Town Commissioners. The question was--who should supply them +with lime! + + _Mr. Kennedy._ I propose that thirty-nine barrels be bought and paid + for. + + _Mr. Loughlan._ I propose that he supply the lime at 1_s._ per barrel. + + _Mr. Long_ (_warmly_). I say the Board can't do anything of the kind. + + _Mr. Loughlan._ You'll get choked if you don't keep cool (_laughter_). + + _Mr. Long_ (_excitedly_). Take care of your windpipe (_laughter_). I + suppose he gave you a few good lumps of lime (_loud laughter_). + + _Mr. Loughlan_ (_jumping up excitedly_). Now that is a gross insult. + + _The Chairman._ Order, order, gentlemen. + + Then Youghal's worried chairman raised a cry of "Order!"--when + A lump of old white limestone took him in the abdomen; + And he smiled a wan official smile and walked out at the door, + And the tongues of LONG and LOUGHLAN interested him no more. + + * * * * * + +PORKERS AND PAUPERS.--Bath Workhouse pigs "live on the best of +good cheer" in the form and substance of milk, so the municipal pork +and rate-aided bacon ought to be prime. The _Bristol Mercury_ reports a +meeting of the Bath guardians, when + + Mr. MANCHIP called attention to the fact that some of the + children did not even touch their milk gruel and dry bread which + was served out for breakfast. On Friday morning when the visitors + were at the Workhouse at seven o'clock two buckets of milk gruel + were taken out to the pigs. Mr. MANCHIP proposed that the + Medical Officer be asked if he would be good enough at his earliest + convenience to consider whether a change could be made in the + children's diet. The Chairman thought if the gruel was sweetened with + a spoonful of treacle the children would then like it. It was agreed + to give the Chairman's suggestion a fortnight's trial. + +Congratulations to the Bath children on being e-manchip-ated from their +old diet! + + * * * * * + +For securing "absolute impartiality" in conferring the prizes at the +Llanelly National Eisteddfod, the judges had "a pit dug for them," +into which they disappeared during the progress of competitions, +so that participators could not "fix them with a glittering +eye," and compel them (by hypnotic means) to award a prize. Sir +JOSEPH BARNBY--warbling, _sotto voce_, "This is my time for +disappearing"--greatly enjoyed these dives to the bottom of the well +in search of Truth, and no doubt the novel departure "assisted" the +blindness of Justice. But, so far as dignity is concerned, "Oh! the +pit-y of it." + + * * * * * + + We read of a cooky at Claughton, + In music she was a self-taught'un; + But her mistress, I fear, + Said 'twas nothing but beer + +that caused her cook to vociferate hymns and, in her harmonious +enthusiasm, to return home towards midnight and hammer loudly at the +door. We know not whether this melodious _cuisinière's_ recipe for +cleaning fire-irons "with a wet rag and a bucket of water" is to be +found in Mrs. GLASSE'S _Art of Cookery_, but the learned Judge +decided in favour of the mistress, against whom MARY ROGERS (a +poetical name forsooth) brought an action for unjustifiable dismissal. +Alas! poor cook. She must, henceforward, do her stewing without singing +and her "mashes" without melody. + + * * * * * + +When Mr. HENRY MCCALMONT gives "receptions" they will be +styled, not "_soirées_," but "After-Newnes." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "DOTH NOT A 'MEETING' LIKE THIS MAKE AMENDS?" + +_Duke of W-stm-nst-r_ (_as they come out of the Hall, Chester_). +"EXCELLENT SPEECH, SIR! SO VERY KIND OF YOU TO COME!" + +_Mr. G._ "DON'T MENTION IT, DUKE. IF THERE'S ONE THING I LIKE MORE +THAN ANOTHER, IT'S A NON-POLITICAL MEETING!"] + + * * * * * + +A SOLILOQUY IN ST. JAMES'S PARK. + +(_By a Socialistic Loafer._) + +[Illustration] + + Besoide the worter in Sin Jimes's Pork, + I've stritched meself ter snooze hunder this ole tree-- + But cawn't, fur all the keckle, screech, an' squork, + From these yere ducks an' swans, an' sim'lar poultry! + + Them fowls is kep' up orf the Nytion's fun's; + If yer chucked stones at 'em there'd be a fuss mide; + They're reg'lar bustin' with the kikes an' buns + As they gits frowed by hevery kiddy's nuss-mide! + + I'll lay a femily cud liv fur weeks + On arf the screps them lyzy hoidle ducks re-jecks + hevery hour, a-turnin' up their beaks, + An' wallerin' in comfit an' in lux'ry! + + Whoy should the loikes o' them 'ave hall the luck, + Whoile sech as me----? It's skendalus, I s'y 'tis, + That--jest becos I ain't a bloomin' duck-- + Sercoiety don't grub and board me grytis! + + Some d'y we'll mike hour vices 'eard, in 'owls + O' ryge, an' s'y to--well, no matter _'oo_ it is-- + "Ain't we more fit ter live nor worter-fowls? + We're yumin beans--not feathered sooperflooities!" + + I'd cop thet one jess waddlin' hup the grorss, + An' twist 'is neck--'e's honly fit fur cookin'; + I would, on _prinserple_, as bold as brorss-- + If that there bloomin' Keeper wasn't lookin'! + + * * * * * + +"OH! LIZA."--Another subject for CHEVALIER. A special +meeting was held in Liverpool to protest against the presence of +Cockney costers who, it was asserted, seriously injured the business +of Liverpudlian "market-tenants." Mr. WALKER (is he of the +celebrated Hookey branch of the family?) averred that he had "seen a +coster with his barrow standing before the LORD MAYOR'S shop +for half-an-hour." Our sympathetic soul weeps at this gross injustice +to the worthy syndic, and we trust it will not cost-er him too much. +But, as the lawyer remarked, _de costibus non est disputandum_. + + * * * * * + +C. C. NEWS. LATEST (LAST THURSDAY) AS TO SCHOOL BOARD +SQUABBLES.--Mr. BOWIE wanted to have his Bowie-knife into +Mr. DIGGLE and others; but was prevented. A BOWIE, +not very sharp and without point, is rather a useless weapon in a fight. + + * * * * * + +"WURM WURK!"--At Bexhill-on-Sea the "Improvement +Committee"--(how wise of Bexhill-on-Sea to have instituted a +permanent "Improvement Committee," otherwise it might become +Bexhill-_at_-Sea!)--has engaged the exclusive services of Herr +WURM and his band. New motto for this new watering-place, "The +Early Beaks-'ll catch the Wurm." The musical _pabulum_ here provided +will be known as "the Diet of Wurm's." Band to play during every meal. +Likewise "Wurm Baths" with music. The eminent conductor will Wurm +himself into favour with everyone. + + * * * * * + +The _Daily Telegraph_ notifies a novelty in return tickets introduced +by the South London Electric Railway. "The return half of the ticket is +usable at any time." The idea being not "Go as you please," but "Go as +we (the Co.) please, and come back as you like." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE EXTINCTION OF THE HORSE. + +_Squire._ "ISN'T THAT THE MARE, COPER, YOU HOPED TO MAKE THREE +FIGURES OF AS A LADY'S HACK!" + +_Local Dealer._ "YES, SIR, THIS IS HER, WORSE LUCK! SHE'LL HAVE TO +GO FOR A 'CABBER' NOW--UNLESS I BOIL HER DOWN FOR BICYCLE OIL!"] + + * * * * * + +LA GÉOGRAPHIE DE LONDRES. + +_À Monsieur Punch._ + +MONSIEUR,--_Je viens d'arriver_--but hold! I go to write in +english, which I know enough well. I am come to London to this Congress +of Geographs. I cross the Sleeve--_la Manche_, how say you? Ah _la +douleureuse traversée_, the dolorous traversy! In fine, the train +arrives at a station. I seek, I regard, I read the soap, the mustard, +the other _réclames_--how say you?--but not the name of the station. +Then a cry, "Londonbridg!" Ah, it is the station of London! _Sapristi_, +how she is little this station! _La gare de Londres_ no more great than +a station of _banlieue_, near to Paris. Eh well, I descend immediately. +I seek my baggages, I go to find a _fiacre_, a "ansom." Then in English +I say to the coacher, "George Street, Number Forty." "Olraïttseu," say +he. What is this that this is that that? I comprehend not. But all of +same I mount in carriage and we part. + +Soon we arrive. Hold! This is a street of commerce; there is there but +offices. And not of number forty. + +"Nottir, maounsiah?" say the coacher. Ah, I comprehend! "No," say I, +"not here." "Minnoriss," say he. "How?" say I; but we are in road. +Hold! Again a street of commerce--but of the most villain. I anger +myself. I cry, "Coacher, I have said you George Street." "Olraïtt, +maounsiah," say he, "this is George Street." "Not here," I respond. "Is +there two George Streets?" Then he swear, he laugh; he ask that he may +be blown; he say more, that I comprehend not. In fine, he say, "Taoua +Ill." Again a George Street. But here some warehouses only. Then the +coacher say, "Shoditch," and we go. Again a George Street! Still more +small! Again one time I anger myself. I ask to him, "Where go you?" He +say, "Which George Street is it?" I say, "George Street, London." Then +he laugh again, and he swear; and he say, "Ollaouai." Again a George +Street! _Tiens, c'est embêtant!_ But it is but a street of commerce, +and very little. "Islingtonn," say he. What! again a George Street? +_Sapristi! Quelle ville!_ If they love the name of George, these +English! But, no, still a poor little street. "Blakfraïahs," say the +coacher. We traverse some streets, some streets, without end! In fine, +see there number forty. But it is a little shop. _Mille tonnerres! Pas +encore!_ "Youstonn Road," say he. Again some streets, some streets, +without end! And again a street of commerce. And again the number forty +is a shop! _Sacré nom d'une pipe!_ "Lissn Grov," say he. Again some +_kilomètres_ to traverse. What! Again a George Street? How many of them +is there, of these George Streets? And again, as you say in english, +"No go." But all of same we go, for the coacher say "Manshestasquaiah." +I shut myself the eyes, and I repose myself. + +Ah, that values better! In fine, a better street. And see, there number +forty! What joy! In fine, I arrive. How it is fatiguing, this course +in London, long of three hours or more! I descend. I demand my friend. +What? He live not here? He is gone? _A la bonne heure!_ "One more," say +the coacher. "What," I cry, "again a George Street?" "Yess, maounsiah, +Annovasquaiah." Then this one is not the house of my friend, this one +is not the George Street that I seek! _Que le diable enlève_---- + +But we continue, we arrive, in fine, it is here. All exhausted I +descend. How much pays one the course in London? In Paris it is 1·50. +Ah! in London it must be one shilling and half. This one has been a +long course; I go to give a good _pourboire_, one shilling. I offer +to the cabman two shillings and half. Then he cry, he swear, he +descend, he wish to fight me. I say, "It is not enough? How much?" +He say, "Tenbobb." What is this that this is that that? In fine, my +friends come from the house, they explain that that wishes to say, +"Ten shillings," they say he has reason, and I pay him. It costs dear +the cab of London. But it is equal to me, for now I go to pronounce a +discourse before the Geographical Congress on the George Streets of +London. He will be of the most interestings, of the most curious. I beg +you, Mister _Punch_, to make me the honour of to come to hear him, and +to agree the assurance of my sentiments the most distinguished. + + AUGUSTE. + + * * * * * + +THE POLITICAL UGLY DUCKLING. + +(_Fragments of a Brummagem Fairy Tale._) + +It was in a big town in the Midlands that the Ugly Duckling first +chipped shell. "_Cheek! Cheek! Cheek!_" squeaked the youngster as he +crept out. How big and ugly he was, to be sure! Not a bit like the +other ducklings. In fact he was a portent, and a puzzle. + +However, the ugly, grey-coated youngster, took to the water, and swam +about like the rest. "He's every inch my own child, after all," said +the old duck. "And really he's very pretty, when one comes to look at +him attentively. Quack! quack!" added she; "now, come along, and I'll +take you into high society. Now move on, and mind you cackle properly, +and bow your head before that old duck yonder, who is the noblest born +of them all. Now bend your neck, and say 'Quack!'" + +But the Ugly Duckling was an odd bird, as well as an ill-favoured one, +and gave much trouble and excited much jealousy in the duck-yard. He +quacked indeed, but he would not bend his head or bow to the old duck +properly. + +"He remained too long in the egg-shell," mused the maternal bird; "and +therefore his figure, like his manners, is not properly formed on the +true duck model. But as he's a male duck it won't matter so much. I +think he'll prove strong, and be able to fight his way through the +world." Which was true. + +<tb> + +But at first the Ugly Duckling had a baddish time of it. He was bitten, +pushed about, and made game of, not only by the ducks, but by the hens. +They all declared he was much too big, and fancied himself too much. +He certainly was not graceful, and he had a cocky, self-assertive +air which irritated the Conservative Old Cockalorums. He was always +making unexpected and unducklike sorties, "alarums and excursions," +and lifting up his raucus-caucus voice against the time-honoured rules +and respectable conventions of the duck-pond. So much so, that they +nicknamed him the "Daring Duckling," and prophesied that he would come +to a bad end. + +So he ran away, and flew over the palings. + +<tb> + +He had many adventures, and various. He dwelt for a time with a lot +of wild ducks in a marsh, and even struck up a sort of friendship +for a swarm of wild geese, who wanted to do away with domestication +and destroy the "tame villatic" tendencies of gregarious goosedom, +and abolish barn-yards and duck-ponds, peacocks, and game-fowls, and +guinea-hens, and poulterer's shops, and _pâté de foie gras_, and other +checks on liberty and incentives to luxury. But somehow he didn't get +on with the wild ducks for long. He was so much wilder than they, and +wanted his own way too much and too often for the old and recognised +leaders of their flocks. And as to the wild geese, why he soon lost +sympathy with their "revolutionary programmes" and "subversive +schemes," which he learned to regard indeed as a sort of wild goose +chase, and deride and denounce as vehemently as he had aforetime +praised them. + +"I think I'll take my chance, and go abroad into the wide world," said +the Duckling. + +<tb> + +One evening, just as the sun was setting, there came a whole flock of +beautiful large birds from a grove. The Ugly Duckling had never seen +any so lovely before. They were dazzlingly white, with long graceful +necks: they were swans. They uttered a peculiar cry, and then spread +their magnificent wings and away they flew from this cold country to +warmer lands across the open sea, as was their usual custom. They rose +so high that the Ugly Duckling felt a strange sensation come over him, +a sort of delicious vertigo. He turned round and round in the water +like a wheel, stretched his neck up into the air toward them, and +uttered so loud and strange a cry that he was frightened at it himself. +Oh! never could he again forget those beautiful, happy birds, so +gracefully fleeting against a primrose sky. He knew not how those birds +were called, nor whither they were bound, but he felt an affection for +them, such as he had never yet experienced for any living creature. +And he more and more lost love for, and patience with, all his old +associates, ducks or geese, wild or domesticated. + +<tb> + +The Ugly Duckling now felt able to flap his wings. They rustled much +louder than before, and bore him away most sturdily; and before long he +found himself in a noble park, a nobleman's park; indeed, the dainty +demesne of one of those who "toil not neither do they spin." It was +quite Beaconsfieldian in its beauty, with its smooth emerald sward and +umbrageous elm-avenues, its dusky cedar clumps and tail-spreading, +crest-sunning peacocks. + +"Dear me!" mused the Ugly Duckling. "It is strange, but _I feel quite +at home here!!!_" + +Three magnificent white swans now emerged from the thicket before him; +they flapped their wings and then swam lightly on the surface of the +water. The larger one (whose beak bore the letter S as a "nick") was +dark and haughty of mien, the second (whose beak was branded B) was +slim and exceeding graceful; whilst the third, a solid and even rather +sullen-looking bird, was beak-stamped with a legible D. + +"I will fly towards these royal birds," cried the Ugly Duckling. And he +flew into the water, and swam towards those stately swans, who turned +to meet him with sail-like wings the moment they saw him. + +"Why, he is one of us!" said the darker and statelier of the three. +"Almost!" he added, _sotto voce_. + +The Ugly Duckling was startled at the remark. But looking at his +reflection in the smooth lake he was more startled still. His own image +was to his eyes no longer that of the Daring Duckling, much less of the +Ugly One. It was smart, smooth, sleek, swelling, in fact swan-like!!! +At any rate, he thought so, and so, indeed, the other three swans +seemed to think. + +He preened his feathers, and puffed forth his plumes. He flapped his +wings, and arched his neck, as he cried in the fullness of his heart:-- + +"I never dreamed of such happiness when I was the Brummagem Ugly +Duckling." + +<tb> + +It matters not being born in a duck-yard if one is hatched from a +swan's egg! + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +_In Leisure Time_, by W. S. MAVOR (ELLIOT STOCK) is, +so my Baronite reports, a daintily-bound little volume of blameless +verse, unambitious, as may be inferred from its title. The author +writes like a classical scholar, his lines are fluent and melodious, +his metre and rhyme unimpeachable, while some of the poems, such as +"Zaleucus" and "A Vision," rise distinctly above the general level. +In others there are passages which my Baronite--a sadly prosaic and +matter-of-fact person--owns to having found slightly obscure. + +For example, in the following couplet:-- + + "In vain the fickle demon sports + With fetid remnants of decay." + +[Illustration] + +He quite failed to discover what particular--or rather anything _but_ +particular--demon is referred to, or why he should amuse himself in so +eccentric and unpleasant a manner. + +Nor, my Baronite says, was his conception of contentment greatly +assisted by this somewhat complicated comparison:-- + + "Contentment is a love-commissioned barque + Sailing a self-less sea--a sea whose flood + Is ordered alway by the laughing guns + Of Virtue's fortalice, whose armament, + Primed with rose-petal powder, doth discharge + In generous rounds of sympathy with all, + Scattering happiness, whose smile betrays + The pangless hurt." + +But that, he is quite willing to admit, may be rather the fault of his +own imagination than the poet's. Again, in a poem entitled "Love's +Messengers," the author writes:-- + + "Flit thou along on softly feathered feet, + Noiseless, thou shadowy-pinioned minister, + And gently fan, _with midnight gale_, my sweet, + Lest thou awaken her." + +Which, to my Baronite, suggests the difficulty that, if the minister +fans the lady with his shadowy pinions "gently," he will fail to +produce anything resembling a "midnight gale"; on the other hand, if he +performs the part of invisible punkah so energetically as to suggest +a gale, he can hardly help awakening her unless she is a very heavy +sleeper indeed--and _might_ give her a cold in the head. Surely this is +rather an unfair dilemma on which to place a feathered minister of any +denomination. + +But after all, poetry, as my Baronite fully recognises, is not meant to +be judged by so literal a standard, and it may be cheerfully conceded +that there are many people who make a less profitable use of their +"Leisure Time" than Mr. MAVOR has done. In which opinion +concurs + + THE LEISURELY BARON DE BOOK-WORMS. + + * * * * * + +HOP(E)FUL LIBERALISM IN KENT.--Sir ISRAEL HART of +Hythe, thinks that if his friends do their work well, he may yet +find in the Hytheians an Israel-light-hearted constituency. Sir +ISRAEL is a _Jew d'esprit_. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE BICYCLE AGAIN. + +_Applicant for the Situation of Cook._ "BEFORE I GO, PLEASE, MA'AM, +MAY I ASK YOUR SERVANT TO SHOW ME THE BASEMENT? I MUST SEE THAT YOU +HAVE A CONVENIENT PLACE FOR MY BICYCLE!" + +_Mistress._ "OF COURSE I HAVE SEEN TO THAT. YOU WILL FIND A +ROOM SET APART. ONLY I MUST TELL YOU THAT I DON'T ALLOW RATIONAL +DRESS!"] + + * * * * * + +FOR THE TAILORS' CONGRESS AT VERVIERS. + +1. Why should it take nine tailors to make a man? + +2. Ought you cut a coat according to your cloth, or according to the +fashion? + +3. How do you cook a tailor's goose? Should it be basted? + +4. In England is the most suitable seaside resort for tailors +Weskit-on-Sea, or Sheerness _sur la côte_? + +5. Shall a prize be given for the best essay on the advantage of having +a pair of Pantaloons on the stage in a Pantomime? + +6. Is it a matter of universal complaint that a tailor should not be +allowed to play billiards because he scarcely passes a day without +cutting a cloth? + +7. What price for the best tale of a coat? + +8. Is it proved to satisfaction that SHAKSPEARE was a tailor +from the fact of his having written _Measure for Measure_? + +9. Whether, for the next International Yacht Race, the tailors should +enter a cutter? + + * * * * * + +GOOD BADMINTON.--Among the contents of LONGMAN'S +_Badminton Magazine_ is an article by the Markiss o' GRANBY +on Grouse; SUSAN, not Black-eyed nor Rebellious, but Countess +of Malmesbury, writes cleverly on her perch, and on the matter of +salmon the Countess would count for a lot in any ex-salmonation. Lord +ONSLOW on slow and on quick bicycling; capital. C. B. +FRY, not one of the Small Fry, gives his ideal of a cricketing +day, which is to be known as a "Fry-day." Then who is it writes a +florid account of fishing in Florida? O'TIS MYGATT. The +question of "What's on at Newmarket?" is pleasantly answered by +ALFRED WATS-ON at Newmarket. On "Old Sporting Prints," +PEEK writes with point. And on "The Alpine 'Distress Signal' +Scheme" there is a paper by C. T. DENT, who has been, more or +less, a Re-si-dent on the spot, as this in-denture witnesseth. + + * * * * * + +"TO THE RANK OF MAJOR-GENERAL HAVE RISEN!"--_Critic._ From a +paragraph in last week's _Truth_ we extract the following:--"Another +scandalous 'selection' job has just been perpetrated at the War +Office. Colonel TROTTER, who has been promoted to the rank of +major-general, has seen no war service, and has no professional claims +whatever upon the authorities." If this information be correct, the +colonel should be remembered by the distinctly Dickensian title of +_"Job" Trotter_. + + * * * * * + +THE LAST KNIGHT OF THE SEASON. + +On Monday, July 29, Sir AUGUSTUS HARRIS, bidding farewell to +a typical '95 Covent Garden audience (house crowded in every part), +seized the opportunity to present one of his lightning conductors with +a "_bâton_ of honour." In a spontaneous speech, DRURIOLANUS +declared that Signor MANCINELLI had "worked like a Trojan," +and the announcement was received with sympathetic applause. Still, +it was thought possible by those present that the pleasant and +prosperous _impresario_ was in search of something that he had +seemingly lost--"a little poem of his own." We have no hesitation in +publishing the following lines, entitled _Sans Adieu_, found in the +neighbourhood of the C. G. orchestra. If they are not from the pen of +DRURIOLANUS, they ought to have been:-- + + Not farewell, my MANCINELLI! + MANCINELLI, _au revoir!_ + As harmonious _fratelli_ + We shall meet again! _Espoir!_ + Take, oh take this shining _bâton_. + You're a marvel! _O, si sic!_ + When you've got it, with your hat on. + _En vacance_ you'll cut your stick. + + You will wave it, you will wield it + Always, my conductor prime, + Never up again you'll yield it, + Ever living to beat time! + Grasp it, use it, MANCINELLI! + Highest praise to you is due! + With it beat Old Time to jelly, + Till Conductor Time beats _you!_ + + * * * * * + +More Honours. + +Motto for Sir WILLIAM DUNN: "_Ce qu'il fait c'est bien fait._" +Likewise "Just Dunn enough." + +For Mr. JOHN TOMLINSON BRUNNER, M.P., a Brunneretcy. + +Motto for Sir A. B. FORWOOD: "_En avant! et plus en avant que +jamais._" + + * * * * * + +"H.M.S."--Should H.M. the King of the BELGIANS ask H. M. +STANLEY, M.P., to return to Congo-land, the inquiry wired will +take this simple form "_Congo?_" and the answer must be "_Can't go_." +_On dit._ The H.M.'s have settled satisfactorily. + + * * * * * + +MEDICAL CONGRESS.--Explanation:--The "Anti-toxin" party is +against the use of a dinner bell or gong. They do not agree with Lord +BYRON, "The tocsin of the soul, the dinner bell." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE NEW KEEPERS. + +SQUIRE BULL (_to_ S-L-SB-RY _and_ +CH-MB-RL-N). "WELL, MY MEN--NOW I'VE TAKEN YOU ON, I SHALL +EXPECT BIGGER BAGS THAN I'VE HAD LATELY."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: REMINISCENCE OF A RECENT POLITICAL CONTEST. + +_Harmless Individual_ (_who has suddenly and unexpectedly been +assaulted and battered by inebriated party_). "YOU SCOUNDREL! +WHAT'S THE MEANING OF THIS?" + +_Inebriated Politician._ "'LECKSHUNS, OLE F'LA! +'LECKSHUNS!--(_hic_)----" + + [_Comes a cropper himself._ #/ ] + + * * * * * + +THE MEETING OF THE WATER-RATEPAYERS. + + ["The New Town Hall in Mare Street, Hackney, was altogether too small + to hold the crowds who came last night (August 1) to protest against + the action of the East London Water Company in cutting down the supply + of water during the past few weeks."--_Evening News._] + +AIR--"_The Meeting of the Waters._" + + There is not in the whole land a meeting so meet + As that of the ratepayers held at Mare Street. + No mare's nest they'd found, no, the Hackneyite heart + Was hot at the new Water Company start! + + It _was_ not that Nature had stinted supply; + That Monopolist pretext appears "all my eye." + 'Twas _not_ summer parching of river and rill, + Oh! no--it was something more troublesome still. + + 'Twas that greed and neglect had combined, it is clear, + To make East End water deficient and dear; + And Monopoly now the supply must improve, + Or more than mere Mare Streets will be on the move. + + Big Monopolist Mammon, how calm could you rest + With your dividends high in the way you love best; + But when water runs short, and diseases increase, + The East End won't leave you and your Water at peace. + + * * * * * + +GULLY-VER.--Mr. BALFOUR'S decision as to not +disturbing the SPEAKER in his uneasy chair was e-gully +awaited, and is, it is hoped, accepted e-gully by all parties. So now, +in his chair, Mr. GULLY will reign re-gully. + + * * * * * + +LATEST FASHION.--Bicycle dinners and suppers have been the +vogue. _Pièce de résistance_ is of course "Cold Wheel." This dish is +selected because whatever the number "wheel" is sure to go round. + + * * * * * + +LEAVE OF ABSENCE TO AUGUST-OUT DALY CO. + +AUGUSTIN DALY'S Company has left us just as play-goers had +taken a fancy to _Nancy & Co_. To paraphrase the old refrain-- + + And all their fancy + Dwelt upon NANCY + The play called _Nancy & Co._ + +It went as a lively laughter-raiser should go, with Miss ADA +REHAN excellent in every way; Miss MAXINE ELLIOT +charming; JAMES LEWIS inimitably funny, and Mr. +WORTHING ("quite a Bright'un," as WAGSTAFF says) +capital. That the fun of a farcical comedy should be kept up through +four acts is a tribute to the original work and to the skill of its +adaptor, Mr. _Daly_ himself. _"Vive la Compagnie!" et au revoir!_ + + * * * * * + +A Sportsman's View of It. + + CHAMBERLAIN _vice_ ROSEBERY! What fun! + The change means order, peace, and lots of tin for us. + What are the Derbies twain young Primrose won + To the _New Markets_ many JOE will win for us? + + * * * * * + +"AFTER THE CALL WAS OVER." + +(_Notes for an Additional Chapter to the History of Hullibulgaria._) + +The Deputation did their very best. They were most anxious to make +things smooth. "He whom they desired to obey" would wear an inferior +sort of crown, robes of cotton-backed velvet, trimmed with imitation +fur. He would not give away orders--he would only take them. He would +not command the army, save as an agent acting under direction from the +Master. There is nothing he would not do to secure the goodwill of his +great, his benevolent, his all-powerful Master. + +The Bear was very amiable. The Bear was pleased with the Deputation +and with the nation they represented. And having said this, there was +nothing further for the Bear to say. + +"But, most powerful of powers, most clement of sovereignties," urged +the Deputation, "there is another matter needing decision. How about +the Prince?" + +"What Prince?" softly murmured the Bear, in a tone of curiosity +combined with astonishment. + +"The Prince we wish to serve," explained the Deputation; "the Prince +who desires to serve you." + +"Have you read the Treaty of Berlin?" asked Bruin. "It is a most +excellent agreement, and deserves special attention. Does the name of +any Prince appear therein?" + +"No," replied the Deputation; "and the same painful omission is +observable in the _Almanac de Gotha_. So we would petition on our +knees that the painful omission should be supplied. We ask that the +Prince----" + +"Stop! stop!" cried the Bear. "You are talking of a myth. As Mrs. +GAMP--a well-known Englishwoman--once observed, 'I don't +believe there ain't no sech person.' So think I, and so thinks the +Treaty of Berlin." + +And so the Deputation returned from whence they came, and "the Prince" +continued to "take the waters" without obtaining the cure he desired. +It was disappointing to His Highness, but not to the Editor of the +_Almanac de Gotha_, who found a revised edition of his excellent +periodical was, at least for the present, unnecessary. + + * * * * * + +What title will Baron DE WORMS take? Viscount +CHRYSALIS? to end by becoming Le Duc DE PAPILLON? + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: Br-ce. B-nn-rm-n. Asq-th. + +A PARLIAMENTARY PROSPECT. + +_Sir W. V. H-rc-rt_ (_on Opposition Bench_). "HOW HOT AND +UNCOMFORTABLE THEY MUST BE OVER THERE! SO CROWDED!"] + + * * * * * + +PASSION AND POETRY. + +I was immensely struck, a few days ago, by a passage in a speech +recently delivered by the Archbishop of CANTERBURY, in +which he explained his method of dispelling those passing fits of +ill-temper from which, alas! not even Archbishops are wholly free. "At +times," so ran the report of His Grace's words, "anger or irritation +came upon him, but on the table he kept a book of pleasant poems, +of which he would read a few lines, and the irritation would melt +away." Immediately I determined to follow this noble example. It was +unfortunate that the "book of pleasant poems" was not described more +specifically--could it be the verses of Mr. ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER +BENSON?--but I bought a pocket volume of _Selections from the +Great Poets_, which contained enough variety to suit every case, and +then looked out for an opportunity of trying the Archbishop's plan. + +I had not long to wait. That very evening I came across my uncle +ROBERT at Clapham Junction, in a furious rage at having +just missed the last train to Slowborough, where he lives. At once +I produced my volume, and in slow and emphatic accents I read aloud +some three or four hundred lines from "Paradise Lost." I was about +to add one or two of WORDSWORTH'S sonnets, when I realised +that my uncle had long since disappeared, and that I was surrounded +by a jeering crowd, who evidently supposed me to be a member of the +Salvation Army. + +On the following morning I received a visit from SNIPS, my +tailor. He was impolite enough to suggest a settlement of what he +termed my "small account," a demand, as I politely but plainly assured +him, which was altogether absurd. As he showed distinct symptoms of +irritation at this juncture, I began to read him a scene from _Measure +for Measure_. Strangely enough, this seemed only to irritate him +further, and I understand that he intends to take proceedings against +me in the County Court. This second unaccountable failure of the +Archbishop's remedy greatly surprised and pained me, but I decided to +give it another trial. + +This morning I was playing golf with my friend MACFOOZLE. +At no time a skilful golfer, MACFOOZLE'S form to-day was +worse than ever; whenever he made a bad stroke--and he seldom made +a good one--he indulged in the most violent language. Fortunately +my volume of poetry was in my pocket. When he completely missed his +drive at the second hole, I read him COLERIDGE'S _Dejection_. +When he broke his mashie at the fourth, I treated him with copious +selections from _In Memoriam_. Finally, he got badly bunkered while +playing to the fourteenth hole. For some ten minutes he smote furiously +with his niblick, only raising prodigious clouds of sand as the +result of his efforts. This was clearly a golden opportunity for the +Archbishop's cure, "anger and irritation" but faintly represented +MACFOOZLE'S rage. Seating myself on the edge of the bunker, +I began to read aloud _The Ring and the Book_ with the utmost pathos. +Over what followed I prefer to draw a veil. It is enough to say that a +niblick is a very effective weapon, and that I write these lines in bed. + +When I recover, I really must call at Lambeth for fuller directions. +The archiepiscopal remedy for angry passions does not seem invariably +happy in its results, as far as my experience goes. + + * * * * * + +THE MALT-LIQUOR-TIPPLER'S MAXIM.--_"Nihil ale-ienum a me +pewter":_--"Nothing in the shape of beer comes amiss to me if it's in a +pewter." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: AN EYE TO EFFECT. + +_Little Dives._ "OH, BY THE WAY, BELAIRS--AWFULLY SORRY TO CUT +YOU OUT, YOU KNOW--BUT I'VE JUST PROPOSED TO LADY BARBARA, AND SHE'S +ACCEPTED ME, AND WE'RE TO BE MARRIED IN SEPTEMBER. AND LOOK HERE, OLD +CHAPPIE; I WANT YOU TO BE MY BEST MAN. I WANT TO MAKE A GOOD SHOW AT +THE ALTAR, YOU KNOW!" + + * * * * * + +A Chip to the Champion. + + [Mr. RANJITSINHJI is running Mr. W. G. GRACE very + close in the batting averages.] + +_To the ancient air of "Cheer up Sam!"_ + + BUCK-UP, GRACE! + And don't let your average down! + For "RANJIT" seems running you hard for first place, + To collar your Cricketing Crown! + + * * * * * + +"PROUD O' THE TITLE."--Sir HENRY JAMES to be "Lord +JEAMES." How delighted W. M. THACKERAY would have +been! + + * * * * * + +By a Reasonable Rad. + + _Why_ were we whipped? Rads wrangle round, + But to _the_ cause make scant allusion. + When all's summed up, it will be found, + "Fusion" has won against _Con_-fusion! + + * * * * * + +A SUGGESTION.--In latest _Observer_ is a capital article by +Mr. ESCOTT, whose text is that "smart" Society transplants to +London all Parisian fashions that will bear the process. The title is +"British Boulevardism;" but one still more suggestive of the mixture +would be "John-Bullvardism." Perhaps Mr. ESCOTT may adopt this +and give us another column. + + * * * * * + +ROUNDABOUT READINGS. + +In a biographical sketch of the late Rev. Dr. JULIUS HAWLEY +SEELYE, formerly President of Amherst College, in America, I +read that "Amherst made him President notwithstanding considerable +opposition in the faculty. He soon overcame that, and advanced the +prosperity of the College in the accessions to its faculty and +endowments that he secured. He soon required the students to sign an +agreement to be gentlemen. A violation of the pledge resulted in the +termination of their careers at Amherst." This sounds strange, for it +would appear that if no pledge had been given the students might have +behaved as they liked, without terminating their careers. The idea of +solemnly pledging yourself to be a gentleman is quite colossal. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +The Independent Labour Party is not dead yet. It is forming clubs, +just like any ordinary humdrum party. The _Western Daily Press_ +reports that "At a special meeting held at LEE'S Coffee +Tavern, Bath Bridge, last night, when there were present Mr. W. +S. M. KNIGHT, president of the Bristol South Independent Labour +Party (in the chair), Messrs. A. BROWNE, E. B. HACK, +C. VALE, C. F. BROCKLEHURST, T. POLE, C. +PARKER, and W. PRICE, it was unanimously decided to open +a club for Totterdown and the East Ward of Bedminster in connection +with the Independent Labour Party. Officers and a committee were +appointed, and suitable headquarters for the club were decided upon." +Nothing could be more appropriate. Totterdown suggests decrepitude and +failure (in this case at least), and Bedminster hints at repose and +peace. I offer the suggestion and the hint gratis to the Independent +Labour Windbags. + + * * * * * + +The Loveday Street Canal Bridge (which is, I fancy, in Birmingham) is +evidently a demon bridge with a depraved taste for injuring children. +One day last week it threw JOHN CHICK, aged seven, off and +broke one of his legs. About five hours later, resenting an attempt on +the part of THOMAS WALTON, aged twelve, to climb it, it flung +him off on to the towing-path and injured his back. A few days before +that it had precipitated the same THOMAS WALTON into the +water, whence he was rescued with some difficulty. Evidently this is a +bridge with an ungovernable temper, and the authorities should guard it +efficiently. + + * * * * * + +_The Scotsman_ informs me that "speaking the other day at Haddington, +Mr. BALFOUR glanced scathingly at those politicians of the +baser sort who seek to confuse great issues by dragging to the front +petty or irrelevant questions, and the breath of whose nostrils is +the disturbance of the harmony which should subsist between class +and class of the community." On this two questions arise. The first +is how Mr. BALFOUR, an amiable gentleman, managed to glance +scathingly. To scath, as I learn from the dictionary, means to hurt, +to injure; and, personally, I cannot imagine Mr. BALFOUR +infusing very much venom into a mere glance of his expressive eye. The +second question is how politicians, even of the baser sort, can go on +living when their unfortunate lungs are filled with a disturbance of +harmony. That they should have sufficient strength left to drag to the +front petty or irrelevant questions is nothing short of a marvel, due +allowance being made for metaphors. + + * * * * * + +A golfer is in trouble, and has confided his difficulties to _Golf_. + + Whilst playing on the links at Streetly, on July 16, he drove a ball, + which apparently fell clear, but which for some time could not be + found. After some little hunting it was discovered under a small tuft + of heather in a lark's nest, resting on the back of a young lark, + apparently about four days old, together with three lark's eggs, + which were quite intact. The golfer was obliged, of course, to lift + the ball and place it behind, as it would have been gross cruelty to + have played it from the nest. It was match play. Under the exceptional + circumstances was he bound to lose the hole? The editor replies that + if a player were a stickler for the law and nothing but the law, he, + of course, would be entitled to enforce it against his opponent who + found the ball in the nest. + + * * * * * + + A tee for your ball, you may fashion of sand + (Which is found in the sugar you use for your tea); + Then you spread your legs wide, and you take a firm stand, + And away with a whack goes the ball flying free. + + If it flies like a bird, there's no need to explain; + If not, then the ways of that golfer are dark, + Who attempts, though the effort is doomed to be vain, + To stand, taking tee on the back of a lark. + + * * * * * + +There has been some excitement at Weston-super-Mare. The "Conservative +party organized a reception for the Hon. G. H. JOLLIFFE on his +first appearance in the town since his election for the Wells division. +Arrangements were made for those intending to take part in the +procession to meet the hon. gentleman at the Potteries on his return +from Banwell Horse Show at 7 p.m., but he arrived in the town a quarter +of an hour too early, and scores of enthusiasts were disappointed. +Those, however, who happened to be early enough followed the hon. +gentleman, some on foot and others in cabs, to the Royal Hotel, the +Town Band heading the procession. Mr. JOLLIFFE rode on a coach +drawn by four horses, and was supported by several of the leaders of +the party in the town. Subsequently he addressed those assembled." +But if Mr. JOLLIFFE rode on a coach, why was it necessary to +support him? Moreover, seeing that it was a four-horse affair, it seems +unjust that the leaders should be talked of and that no mention at all +should be made of the wheelers. + + * * * * * + +NANA SAHIB has died once more. + + A Mr. WILLIAM BROWN, who was formerly an officer in the East + India Company's service, and is now residing at San Francisco, gives + the following particulars regarding the fate of NANA SAHIB. + Mr. BROWN says that he was commodore of the Ganges Fleet + in the Indian Mutiny, and was attacked by Sepoys under NANA + SAHIB himself, who was shot in the fighting, and afterwards died + on board Mr. BROWN'S ship. NANA SAHIB'S body was + then cremated, and the ashes were committed to the river. + +Why, oh why, has Mr. BROWN, whom I heartily congratulate on +clearing up the mystery, kept silence for nearly forty years? And, by +the way, which Mr. WILLIAM BROWN is he? There must be a good +many WILLIAM BROWN'S even in San Francisco. Before concluding +that the matter is definitely settled, I should like to hear Mr. +HENRY SMITH, Mr. RICHARD ROBINSON, and Mr. JOHN +JONES on the subject. + + * * * * * + +WHERE NOT TO GO. + + (_Hints by our Pessimist Passenger._) + + _Amsterdam._--Too much sea before you get there. + + _Boulogne._--Not particularly pleasant at low tide. + + _Cologne._--The reverse of fragrant at all times. + + _Dieppe._--The trap of the tripper. + + _Etretat._--No longer what it was. + + _Frankfort._--Only good for a change of money. + + _Geneva._--Dull and dear. + + _Heidelberg._--Too much hill, and too little castle. + + _Interlaken._--The 'appy 'ome of 'ARRY. + + _Jura Pass._--Sure find for BROWN, JONES, and ROBINSON. + + _Karlsbad._--Kill or cure. + + _Lyons._--Apotheosis of silk monotonous. + + _Marseilles._--Good place for musquitoes, bad for all else. + + _Nice._--Too near to Monte Carlo. + + _Ouchy._--Hotel good, but surroundings superfluous. + + _Paris._--Too hot. Theatres closed and wideawakes seen on the + boulevards. + + _Quebec._--Dangerous rival to Bath, Coventry, and Jericho. + + _Rotterdam._--Worthy of its name. + + _Suez._--Not comparable to Cairo. + + _Trouville._--Requires antedating a quarter of a century. + + _Uig._--Skyed and out of reach. + + _Venice._--Vulgarised by the steam launches. + + _Wiesbaden._--Has not yet recovered the loss of its table. + + _Xerez._--Long journey for a glass of sherry. + + _Yokohama._--Not a patch upon Pekin. + + _Zurich._--Alliterative attraction for zomebody. + + * * * * * + +A BONNE BOUCHE. + +_Mr. Wagstaff._ Ah! I have lived many years in the bush. + +_Mrs. Leo Hunter._ How interesting! I suppose you must have become +almost savage! + +_Mr. W. Frequently_, when I couldn't get a 'bus or a cab. + +_Mrs. L. H._ (_utterly astonished_). A 'bus or a cab! in the bush!! + +_Mr. W._ (_pleasantly_). Ah, yes; I was talking of "Shepherd's Bush." +Good morning. + + [_Exit chuckling._ + + [{asterism} _Note by the Bird in the Bush._--In future this + little jest of WAGGY'S will be impossible, as it is proposed + to re-name Shepherd's Bush, and call it Pastoral Park, or All-Askew + Park, or something of the sort.] + + * * * * * + +"SORTES SHAKSPERIANÆ."--On the new Postmaster-General:-- + + "Friend post the Duke of NORFOLK." + + _Richard the Third_, Act iv., Scene 4. + + +And we hope his Grace will be "Friend post," and benefit us all. + + * * * * * + +A volume of Reminiscences by HENRY RUSSELL is promised. +Evidently this ought to be a "Cheery, Boys, Cheery" sort of book. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +109, August 10, 1895, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 44809-8.txt or 44809-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/8/0/44809/ + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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August 3, 1895. , by Various. + </title> + + + <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg"/> + + + <style type="text/css"> + + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .lowercase {text-transform:lowercase;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .stage {padding-left: 6em;} + + .blockquote {margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 85%;} + + hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + +small {font-size: 70%;} + .small {font-size: 70%;} + .smaller {font-size: 50%;} + +.sans {font-family: sans-serif;} + + span.pagenum {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0; + text-decoration: none;} + + + + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem h3 {text-align: left;} + .poem h4 {text-align: left;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + + .figcenter, .figright, .figleft {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img {border: none;} + .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + .figleft {float: left;} + + p.author {text-align: right; margin-right: 3em;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.break-before { + page-break-before: always; +} + + + +epub headings + +.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } +.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } +.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } +.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } +.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } + + + + + + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 0.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 109, +August 10, 1895, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 109, August 10, 1895 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis Burnand + +Release Date: January 31, 2014 [EBook #44809] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h1>PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.<br /><br /> +<small>Vol. 109.<span class="sc">August 10, 1895.</span></small><br /><br /> +<span class="smaller"><em>edited by Sir Francis Burnand</em></span></h1> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + + + +<p class="ph3"><a name="A_PSALM_OF_AUGUST" id="A_PSALM_OF_AUGUST">A PSALM OF AUGUST.</a></p> + +<p class="center">(<i>For the Circular Tourist.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tell me not, in Summer numbers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Holidays are but a dream!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you hold that vacs are slumbers,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Well—things are not what they seem.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Cook</span> is real! <span class="smcap">Gaze</span> is earnest!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the earth's end is their goal;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Bust" thou art, and "bust" returnest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sing they to the tripper's soul.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not enjoyment—rather, sorrow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Greets the tourist on his way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His to toil, that each to-morrow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Find him farther on his way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tours are long, and Time is fleeting,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While we dire discomfort brave;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In globe-trotting, record-beating,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pleasure surely finds its grave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Let us, still, each town be "doing,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Since "tow-rowing" is our fate—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, half-dead with guide-pursuing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Brag o'er those at home who wait!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Forwood Boys.</span>"—Sir <span class="smcap">Arthur Forwood</span>, the new Baronet, +observes the Day-by-Day-istical writer in the <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, "is +not to be confounded with his brother, Sir <span class="smcap">William Forwood</span>." +Why not? Why interfere with the liberty of speech on the part of some +Radicals, who might say "Confound 'em both!" Or, in the words of the +National Anthem, "Confound their politics."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Omitted from the Gracious Speech of H.R.H. the Prince of Wales at +the opening of the Southampton New Dock.</span>—"I appear here as the +Judge, at whose word the prisoner is to be let into the dock, and, +subsequently, let out again. Ladies and gentlemen, the prisoner is—the +water." (<i>Cheers.</i>)</p> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 232px;"> +<a href="images/061full.jpg"> +<img src="images/061.jpg" width="232" height="500" alt="PRESIDING DEITY" /></a> +<div class="caption">PRESIDING DEITY. 1895.</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Venus An—iline dye—omene.</span></p></div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">JOEYING AT THE PRINCE OF WALES'S.</p> + +<p>There have been <span class="smcap">Joes</span> not a few on the stage. Coming down from +the time of <span class="smcap">Joe Grimaldi</span>, we pass on the way <i>Joseph Andrews</i>, +<i>Poll and Partner Joe</i>, <i>Poor Joe</i> from <i>Bleak House</i>, and many other +<span class="smcap">Joes</span> until we come to <i>Gentleman Joe</i>, hansom cab-driver, +played by <span class="smcap">Arthur Roberts</span>. The question and answer in the old +idiotic nigger song applies appropriately here, with slight adaptation:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">What! <i>de</i> <span class="smcap">Joe</span>? Yes! <i>de</i> <span class="smcap">Joe</span>.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spruce <span class="smcap">Joe</span> kicking up ahind and afore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Kitty Loftus</span> playing up to Mister <span class="smcap">Joe</span>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And with the assistance of the always graceful <span class="smcap">Phyllis +Broughton</span>—of whom <i>Gentleman Joe</i> might have sung, but doesn't, +"<span class="smcap">Phyllis</span> is my only <i>Fare</i>"—aided also by the pretty-voiced +<span class="smcap">Lettie Searle</span>, helped by the sprightly earnestness of Miss +<span class="smcap">Clara Jecks</span>, who has turned over a new leaf and come out as a +page, and kept moving by the dashing "go" of Miss <span class="smcap">Sadie Jerome</span> +(not at all a "sad eye" nor a "say die" sort of young lady) as <i>Lalage +Potts</i>, this two-act musical farce, beginning as a kind of <i>High Life +below Stairs</i> and ending anyhow, offering, as it does, opportunities +to Our Only <span class="smcap">Arthur</span> for introducing into it any amount of +"divarsion" in the way of new songs, eccentric speeches, nods, winks, +becks, and wreathed smiles, may be continuing its successful career in +the summer of '96, there being no apparent reason why its run should +ever stop, that is as long as <i>Gentleman Arthur Joe Roberts</i> handles +the ribands as the popular <i>Cabbing-it Minister</i>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">A New Title.</span>—Our <span class="smcap">Grace</span>, the cricketer, is not made +a "Sir" or raised to a dukedom. There is, however, in view of present +craze, a great chance for conferring the greater honour on a champion +bicyclist. His title would be "The Duke of <span class="smcap">Wheelington</span>."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">SCRAPS FROM CHAPS.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Dividend Deserved.</span>—The Glasgow Town Council has been +running its own tram-cars for a year past, and has cleared more than +£20,000 of profit for the citizens out of the business. There is huge +rejoicing on the Clyde, and no wonder, as the result is due to sheer +good management, without over-charging the public or over-driving the +drivers. The Tramways Committee reports:—</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p>Further, the Committee have given effect to what they believe to +be the general feeling of the citizens—viz., that the cars, which +necessarily form a notable feature of the streets of the city, +should not only be tasteful in design and colour, and comfortable +for passengers, but also that their general appearance should not be +marred or their destinations obscured by advertisements.</p></div> + +<p>Moral for many southern railway, tram, and omnibus companies—Go and do +likewise! Moral for Glasgow citizens—Get carried over your tram-lines +often enough, and you'll carry over a big dividend to decrease your +next year's rates!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sub-lime!</span>—This is how "business" is transacted by some of the +Youghal Town Commissioners. The question was—who should supply them +with lime!</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p><i>Mr. Kennedy.</i> I propose that thirty-nine barrels be bought and paid +for.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Loughlan.</i> I propose that he supply the lime at 1<i>s.</i> per barrel.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Long</i> (<i>warmly</i>). I say the Board can't do anything of the kind.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Loughlan.</i> You'll get choked if you don't keep cool (<i>laughter</i>).</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Long</i> (<i>excitedly</i>). Take care of your windpipe (<i>laughter</i>). I +suppose he gave you a few good lumps of lime (<i>loud laughter</i>).</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Loughlan</i> (<i>jumping up excitedly</i>). Now that is a gross insult.</p> + +<p><i>The Chairman.</i> Order, order, gentlemen.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then Youghal's worried chairman raised a cry of "Order!"—when<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A lump of old white limestone took him in the abdomen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he smiled a wan official smile and walked out at the door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the tongues of <span class="smcap">Long</span> and <span class="smcap">Loughlan</span> interested him no more.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Porkers and Paupers.</span>—Bath Workhouse pigs "live on the best of +good cheer" in the form and substance of milk, so the municipal pork +and rate-aided bacon ought to be prime. The <i>Bristol Mercury</i> reports a +meeting of the Bath guardians, when</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Manchip</span> called attention to the fact that some of the +children did not even touch their milk gruel and dry bread which +was served out for breakfast. On Friday morning when the visitors +were at the Workhouse at seven o'clock two buckets of milk gruel +were taken out to the pigs. Mr. <span class="smcap">Manchip</span> proposed that the +Medical Officer be asked if he would be good enough at his earliest +convenience to consider whether a change could be made in the +children's diet. The Chairman thought if the gruel was sweetened with +a spoonful of treacle the children would then like it. It was agreed +to give the Chairman's suggestion a fortnight's trial.</p></div> + +<p>Congratulations to the Bath children on being e-manchip-ated from their +old diet!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>For securing "absolute impartiality" in conferring the prizes at the +Llanelly National Eisteddfod, the judges had "a pit dug for them," +into which they disappeared during the progress of competitions, +so that participators could not "fix them with a glittering +eye," and compel them (by hypnotic means) to award a prize. Sir +<span class="smcap">Joseph Barnby</span>—warbling, <i>sotto voce</i>, "This is my time for +disappearing"—greatly enjoyed these dives to the bottom of the well +in search of Truth, and no doubt the novel departure "assisted" the +blindness of Justice. But, so far as dignity is concerned, "Oh! the +pit-y of it."</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We read of a cooky at Claughton,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In music she was a self-taught'un;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But her mistress, I fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Said 'twas nothing but beer<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>that caused her cook to vociferate hymns and, in her harmonious +enthusiasm, to return home towards midnight and hammer loudly at the +door. We know not whether this melodious <i>cuisinière's</i> recipe for +cleaning fire-irons "with a wet rag and a bucket of water" is to be +found in Mrs. <span class="smcap">Glasse's</span> <i>Art of Cookery</i>, but the learned Judge +decided in favour of the mistress, against whom <span class="smcap">Mary Rogers</span> (a +poetical name forsooth) brought an action for unjustifiable dismissal. +Alas! poor cook. She must, henceforward, do her stewing without singing +and her "mashes" without melody.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>When Mr. <span class="smcap">Henry McCalmont</span> gives "receptions" they will be +styled, not "<i>soirées</i>," but "After-Newnes."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 558px;"> +<a href="images/062full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/062.jpg" width="558" height="700" alt="DOTH NOT A 'MEETING' LIKE THIS MAKE AMENDS" /> +</a> +<div class="caption">"DOTH NOT A 'MEETING' LIKE THIS MAKE AMENDS?"</div> + +<p><i>Duke of W-stm-nst-r</i> (<i>as they come out of the Hall, Chester</i>). +"<span class="smcap">Excellent Speech, Sir! So very kind of you to come!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Mr. G.</i> "<span class="smcap">Don't mention it, Duke. If there's one thing I like more +than another, it's a Non-Political Meeting!</span>"</p></div> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 750px;"> +<a href="images/063full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/063.jpg" width="750" height="636" alt="A SOLILOQUY IN ST. JAMES'S PARK" /> +</a> +<div class="caption">A SOLILOQUY IN ST. JAMES'S PARK.</div> + + +<p class="center">(<i>By a Socialistic Loafer.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Besoide the worter in Sin Jimes's Pork,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've stritched meself ter snooze hunder this ole tree—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But cawn't, fur all the keckle, screech, an' squork,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From these yere ducks an' swans, an' sim'lar poultry!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Them fowls is kep' up orf the Nytion's fun's;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If yer chucked stones at 'em there'd be a fuss mide;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They're reg'lar bustin' with the kikes an' buns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As they gits frowed by hevery kiddy's nuss-mide!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'll lay a femily cud liv fur weeks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On arf the screps them lyzy hoidle ducks re-jecks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">hevery hour, a-turnin' up their beaks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' wallerin' in comfit an' in lux'ry!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whoy should the loikes o' them 'ave hall the luck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoile sech as me——? It's skendalus, I s'y 'tis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That—jest becos I ain't a bloomin' duck—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sercoiety don't grub and board me grytis!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some d'y we'll mike hour vices 'eard, in 'owls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O' ryge, an' s'y to—well, no matter <i>'oo</i> it is—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Ain't we more fit ter live nor worter-fowls?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We're yumin beans—not feathered sooperflooities!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I'd cop thet one jess waddlin' hup the grorss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' twist 'is neck—'e's honly fit fur cookin';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would, on <i>prinserple</i>, as bold as brorss—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If that there bloomin' Keeper wasn't lookin'!<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Oh! Liza.</span>"—Another subject for <span class="smcap">Chevalier</span>. A special +meeting was held in Liverpool to protest against the presence of +Cockney costers who, it was asserted, seriously injured the business +of Liverpudlian "market-tenants." Mr. <span class="smcap">Walker</span> (is he of the +celebrated Hookey branch of the family?) averred that he had "seen a +coster with his barrow standing before the <span class="smcap">Lord Mayor's</span> shop +for half-an-hour." Our sympathetic soul weeps at this gross injustice +to the worthy syndic, and we trust it will not cost-er him too much. +But, as the lawyer remarked, <i>de costibus non est disputandum</i>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">C. C. News. Latest (last Thursday) as to School Board +Squabbles.</span>—Mr. <span class="smcap">Bowie</span> wanted to have his Bowie-knife into +Mr. <span class="smcap">Diggle</span> and others; but was prevented. A <span class="smcap">Bowie</span>, +not very sharp and without point, is rather a useless weapon in a fight.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Wurm Wurk!</span>"—At Bexhill-on-Sea the "Improvement +Committee"—(how wise of Bexhill-on-Sea to have instituted a +permanent "Improvement Committee," otherwise it might become +Bexhill-<i>at</i>-Sea!)—has engaged the exclusive services of Herr +<span class="smcap">Wurm</span> and his band. New motto for this new watering-place, "The +Early Beaks-'ll catch the Wurm." The musical <i>pabulum</i> here provided +will be known as "the Diet of Wurm's." Band to play during every meal. +Likewise "Wurm Baths" with music. The eminent conductor will Wurm +himself into favour with everyone.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The <i>Daily Telegraph</i> notifies a novelty in return tickets introduced +by the South London Electric Railway. "The return half of the ticket is +usable at any time." The idea being not "Go as you please," but "Go as +we (the Co.) please, and come back as you like."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<a href="images/064full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/064.jpg" width="800" height="565" alt="THE EXTINCTION OF THE HORSE" /> +</a><div class="caption">THE EXTINCTION OF THE HORSE.</div> + +<p><i>Squire.</i> "<span class="smcap">Isn't that the Mare, Coper, you hoped to make three +figures of as a Lady's Hack!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Local Dealer.</i> "<span class="smcap">Yes, Sir, this is her, worse luck! She'll have to +go for a 'Cabber' now—unless I boil her down for Bicycle Oil!"</span></p></div> + + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">LA GÉOGRAPHIE DE LONDRES.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>À Monsieur Punch.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Monsieur</span>,—<i>Je viens d'arriver</i>—but hold! I go to write in +english, which I know enough well. I am come to London to this Congress +of Geographs. I cross the Sleeve—<i>la Manche</i>, how say you? Ah <i>la +douleureuse traversée</i>, the dolorous traversy! In fine, the train +arrives at a station. I seek, I regard, I read the soap, the mustard, +the other <i>réclames</i>—how say you?—but not the name of the station. +Then a cry, "Londonbridg!" Ah, it is the station of London! <i>Sapristi</i>, +how she is little this station! <i>La gare de Londres</i> no more great than +a station of <i>banlieue</i>, near to Paris. Eh well, I descend immediately. +I seek my baggages, I go to find a <i>fiacre</i>, a "ansom." Then in English +I say to the coacher, "George Street, Number Forty." "Olraïttseu," say +he. What is this that this is that that? I comprehend not. But all of +same I mount in carriage and we part.</p> + +<p>Soon we arrive. Hold! This is a street of commerce; there is there but +offices. And not of number forty.</p> + +<p>"Nottir, maounsiah?" say the coacher. Ah, I comprehend! "No," say I, +"not here." "Minnoriss," say he. "How?" say I; but we are in road. +Hold! Again a street of commerce—but of the most villain. I anger +myself. I cry, "Coacher, I have said you George Street." "Olraïtt, +maounsiah," say he, "this is George Street." "Not here," I respond. "Is +there two George Streets?" Then he swear, he laugh; he ask that he may +be blown; he say more, that I comprehend not. In fine, he say, "Taoua +Ill." Again a George Street. But here some warehouses only. Then the +coacher say, "Shoditch," and we go. Again a George Street! Still more +small! Again one time I anger myself. I ask to him, "Where go you?" He +say, "Which George Street is it?" I say, "George Street, London." Then +he laugh again, and he swear; and he say, "Ollaouai." Again a George +Street! <i>Tiens, c'est embêtant!</i> But it is but a street of commerce, +and very little. "Islingtonn," say he. What! again a George Street? +<i>Sapristi! Quelle ville!</i> If they love the name of George, these +English! But, no, still a poor little street. "Blakfraïahs," say the +coacher. We traverse some streets, some streets, without end! In fine, +see there number forty. But it is a little shop. <i>Mille tonnerres! Pas +encore!</i> "Youstonn Road," say he. Again some streets, some streets, +without end! And again a street of commerce. And again the number forty +is a shop! <i>Sacré nom d'une pipe!</i> "Lissn Grov," say he. Again some +<i>kilomètres</i> to traverse. What! Again a George Street? How many of them +is there, of these George Streets? And again, as you say in english, +"No go." But all of same we go, for the coacher say "Manshestasquaiah." +I shut myself the eyes, and I repose myself.</p> + +<p>Ah, that values better! In fine, a better street. And see, there number +forty! What joy! In fine, I arrive. How it is fatiguing, this course +in London, long of three hours or more! I descend. I demand my friend. +What? He live not here? He is gone? <i>A la bonne heure!</i> "One more," say +the coacher. "What," I cry, "again a George Street?" "Yess, maounsiah, +Annovasquaiah." Then this one is not the house of my friend, this one +is not the George Street that I seek! <i>Que le diable enlève</i>——</p> + +<p>But we continue, we arrive, in fine, it is here. All exhausted I +descend. How much pays one the course in London? In Paris it is 1·50. +Ah! in London it must be one shilling and half. This one has been a +long course; I go to give a good <i>pourboire</i>, one shilling. I offer +to the cabman two shillings and half. Then he cry, he swear, he +descend, he wish to fight me. I say, "It is not enough? How much?" +He say, "Tenbobb." What is this that this is that that? In fine, my +friends come from the house, they explain that that wishes to say, +"Ten shillings," they say he has reason, and I pay him. It costs dear +the cab of London. But it is equal to me, for now I go to pronounce a +discourse before the Geographical Congress on the George Streets of +London. He will be of the most interestings, of the most curious. I beg +you, Mister <i>Punch</i>, to make me the honour of to come to hear him, and +to agree the assurance of my sentiments the most distinguished.</p> + +<p class="author"> +<span class="smcap">Auguste.</span> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">THE POLITICAL UGLY DUCKLING.</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>Fragments of a Brummagem Fairy Tale.</i>)</p> + +<p>It was in a big town in the Midlands that the Ugly Duckling first +chipped shell. "<i>Cheek! Cheek! Cheek!</i>" squeaked the youngster as he +crept out. How big and ugly he was, to be sure! Not a bit like the +other ducklings. In fact he was a portent, and a puzzle.</p> + +<p>However, the ugly, grey-coated youngster, took to the water, and swam +about like the rest. "He's every inch my own child, after all," said +the old duck. "And really he's very pretty, when one comes to look at +him attentively. Quack! quack!" added she; "now, come along, and I'll +take you into high society. Now move on, and mind you cackle properly, +and bow your head before that old duck yonder, who is the noblest born +of them all. Now bend your neck, and say 'Quack!'"</p> + +<p>But the Ugly Duckling was an odd bird, as well as an ill-favoured one, +and gave much trouble and excited much jealousy in the duck-yard. He +quacked indeed, but he would not bend his head or bow to the old duck +properly.</p> + +<p>"He remained too long in the egg-shell," mused the maternal bird; "and +therefore his figure, like his manners, is not properly formed on the +true duck model. But as he's a male duck it won't matter so much. I +think he'll prove strong, and be able to fight his way through the +world." Which was true.</p> + +<p class="center"> * * *</p> + +<p>But at first the Ugly Duckling had a baddish time of it. He was bitten, +pushed about, and made game of, not only by the ducks, but by the hens. +They all declared he was much too big, and fancied himself too much. +He certainly was not graceful, and he had a cocky, self-assertive +air which irritated the Conservative Old Cockalorums. He was always +making unexpected and unducklike sorties, "alarums and excursions," +and lifting up his raucus-caucus voice against the time-honoured rules +and respectable conventions of the duck-pond. So much so, that they +nicknamed him the "Daring Duckling," and prophesied that he would come +to a bad end.</p> + +<p>So he ran away, and flew over the palings.</p> + +<p class="center"> * * *</p> + + +<p>He had many adventures, and various. He dwelt for a time with a lot +of wild ducks in a marsh, and even struck up a sort of friendship +for a swarm of wild geese, who wanted to do away with domestication +and destroy the "tame villatic" tendencies of gregarious goosedom, +and abolish barn-yards and duck-ponds, peacocks, and game-fowls, and +guinea-hens, and poulterer's shops, and <i>pâté de foie gras</i>, and other +checks on liberty and incentives to luxury. But somehow he didn't get +on with the wild ducks for long. He was so much wilder than they, and +wanted his own way too much and too often for the old and recognised +leaders of their flocks. And as to the wild geese, why he soon lost +sympathy with their "revolutionary programmes" and "subversive +schemes," which he learned to regard indeed as a sort of wild goose +chase, and deride and denounce as vehemently as he had aforetime +praised them.</p> + +<p>"I think I'll take my chance, and go abroad into the wide world," said +the Duckling.</p> + +<p class="center"> * * *</p> + + +<p>One evening, just as the sun was setting, there came a whole flock of +beautiful large birds from a grove. The Ugly Duckling had never seen +any so lovely before. They were dazzlingly white, with long graceful +necks: they were swans. They uttered a peculiar cry, and then spread +their magnificent wings and away they flew from this cold country to +warmer lands across the open sea, as was their usual custom. They rose +so high that the Ugly Duckling felt a strange sensation come over him, +a sort of delicious vertigo. He turned round and round in the water +like a wheel, stretched his neck up into the air toward them, and +uttered so loud and strange a cry that he was frightened at it himself. +Oh! never could he again forget those beautiful, happy birds, so +gracefully fleeting against a primrose sky. He knew not how those birds +were called, nor whither they were bound, but he felt an affection for +them, such as he had never yet experienced for any living creature. +And he more and more lost love for, and patience with, all his old +associates, ducks or geese, wild or domesticated.</p> + +<p class="center"> * * *</p> + + +<p>The Ugly Duckling now felt able to flap his wings. They rustled much +louder than before, and bore him away most sturdily; and before long he +found himself in a noble park, a nobleman's park; indeed, the dainty +demesne of one of those who "toil not neither do they spin." It was +quite Beaconsfieldian in its beauty, with its smooth emerald sward and +umbrageous elm-avenues, its dusky cedar clumps and tail-spreading, +crest-sunning peacocks.</p> + +<p>"Dear me!" mused the Ugly Duckling. "It is strange, but <i>I feel quite +at home here!!!</i>"</p> + +<p>Three magnificent white swans now emerged from the thicket before him; +they flapped their wings and then swam lightly on the surface of the +water. The larger one (whose beak bore the letter S as a "nick") was +dark and haughty of mien, the second (whose beak was branded B) was +slim and exceeding graceful; whilst the third, a solid and even rather +sullen-looking bird, was beak-stamped with a legible D.</p> + +<p>"I will fly towards these royal birds," cried the Ugly Duckling. And he +flew into the water, and swam towards those stately swans, who turned +to meet him with sail-like wings the moment they saw him.</p> + +<p>"Why, he is one of us!" said the darker and statelier of the three. +"Almost!" he added, <i>sotto voce</i>.</p> + +<p>The Ugly Duckling was startled at the remark. But looking at his +reflection in the smooth lake he was more startled still. His own image +was to his eyes no longer that of the Daring Duckling, much less of the +Ugly One. It was smart, smooth, sleek, swelling, in fact swan-like!!! +At any rate, he thought so, and so, indeed, the other three swans +seemed to think.</p> + +<p>He preened his feathers, and puffed forth his plumes. He flapped his +wings, and arched his neck, as he cried in the fullness of his heart:—</p> + +<p>"I never dreamed of such happiness when I was the Brummagem Ugly +Duckling."</p> + +<p class="center"> * * *</p> + + +<p>It matters not being born in a duck-yard if one is hatched from a +swan's egg!</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 295px;"> +<a href="images/065full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/065.jpg" width="295" height="300" alt="untitled - reading in bed" /> +</a></div> + +<p><i>In Leisure Time</i>, by <span class="smcap">W. S. Mavor</span> (<span class="smcap">Elliot Stock</span>) is, +so my Baronite reports, a daintily-bound little volume of blameless +verse, unambitious, as may be inferred from its title. The author +writes like a classical scholar, his lines are fluent and melodious, +his metre and rhyme unimpeachable, while some of the poems, such as +"Zaleucus" and "A Vision," rise distinctly above the general level. +In others there are passages which my Baronite—a sadly prosaic and +matter-of-fact person—owns to having found slightly obscure.</p> + +<p>For example, in the following couplet:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"In vain the fickle demon sports<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With fetid remnants of decay."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<p>He quite failed to discover what particular—or rather anything <i>but</i> +particular—demon is referred to, or why he should amuse himself in so +eccentric and unpleasant a manner.</p> + +<p>Nor, my Baronite says, was his conception of contentment greatly +assisted by this somewhat complicated comparison:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Contentment is a love-commissioned barque<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sailing a self-less sea—a sea whose flood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is ordered alway by the laughing guns<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Virtue's fortalice, whose armament,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Primed with rose-petal powder, doth discharge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In generous rounds of sympathy with all,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scattering happiness, whose smile betrays<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pangless hurt."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But that, he is quite willing to admit, may be rather the fault of his +own imagination than the poet's. Again, in a poem entitled "Love's +Messengers," the author writes:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Flit thou along on softly feathered feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Noiseless, thou shadowy-pinioned minister,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gently fan, <i>with midnight gale</i>, my sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Lest thou awaken her."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Which, to my Baronite, suggests the difficulty that, if the minister +fans the lady with his shadowy pinions "gently," he will fail to +produce anything resembling a "midnight gale"; on the other hand, if he +performs the part of invisible punkah so energetically as to suggest +a gale, he can hardly help awakening her unless she is a very heavy +sleeper indeed—and <i>might</i> give her a cold in the head. Surely this is +rather an unfair dilemma on which to place a feathered minister of any +denomination.</p> + +<p>But after all, poetry, as my Baronite fully recognises, is not meant to +be judged by so literal a standard, and it may be cheerfully conceded +that there are many people who make a less profitable use of their +"Leisure Time" than Mr. <span class="smcap">Mavor</span> has done. In which opinion +concurs</p> + +<p class="author"> +<span class="smcap">The Leisurely Baron de Book-Worms</span>. +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hop(e)ful Liberalism in Kent.</span>—Sir <span class="smcap">Israel Hart</span> of +Hythe, thinks that if his friends do their work well, he may yet +find in the Hytheians an Israel-light-hearted constituency. Sir +<span class="smcap">Israel</span> is a <i>Jew d'esprit</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> +<a href="images/066full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/066.jpg" width="700" height="411" alt="THE BICYCLE AGAIN" /> +</a><div class="caption">THE BICYCLE AGAIN.</div> + +<p><i>Applicant for the Situation of Cook.</i> "<span class="smcap">Before I go, please, Ma'am, +may I ask your Servant to show me the Basement? I must see that you +have a convenient place for my Bicycle!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Mistress.</i> "<span class="smcap">Of course I have seen to that. You will find a +Room set apart. Only I must tell you that I don't allow Rational +Dress!</span>"</p></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">FOR THE TAILORS' CONGRESS AT VERVIERS.</p> + +<p>1. Why should it take nine tailors to make a man?</p> + +<p>2. Ought you cut a coat according to your cloth, or according to the +fashion?</p> + +<p>3. How do you cook a tailor's goose? Should it be basted?</p> + +<p>4. In England is the most suitable seaside resort for tailors +Weskit-on-Sea, or Sheerness <i>sur la côte</i>?</p> + +<p>5. Shall a prize be given for the best essay on the advantage of having +a pair of Pantaloons on the stage in a Pantomime?</p> + +<p>6. Is it a matter of universal complaint that a tailor should not be +allowed to play billiards because he scarcely passes a day without +cutting a cloth?</p> + +<p>7. What price for the best tale of a coat?</p> + +<p>8. Is it proved to satisfaction that <span class="smcap">Shakspeare</span> was a tailor +from the fact of his having written <i>Measure for Measure</i>?</p> + +<p>9. Whether, for the next International Yacht Race, the tailors should +enter a cutter?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Good Badminton.</span>—Among the contents of <span class="smcap">Longman's</span> +<i>Badminton Magazine</i> is an article by the Markiss o' <span class="smcap">Granby</span> +on Grouse; <span class="smcap">Susan</span>, not Black-eyed nor Rebellious, but Countess +of Malmesbury, writes cleverly on her perch, and on the matter of +salmon the Countess would count for a lot in any ex-salmonation. Lord +<span class="smcap">Onslow</span> on slow and on quick bicycling; capital. <span class="smcap">C. B. +Fry</span>, not one of the Small Fry, gives his ideal of a cricketing +day, which is to be known as a "Fry-day." Then who is it writes a +florid account of fishing in Florida? <span class="smcap">O'tis Mygatt.</span> The +question of "What's on at Newmarket?" is pleasantly answered by +<span class="smcap">Alfred Wats-on</span> at Newmarket. On "Old Sporting Prints," +<span class="smcap">Peek</span> writes with point. And on "The Alpine 'Distress Signal' +Scheme" there is a paper by <span class="smcap">C. T. Dent</span>, who has been, more or +less, a Re-si-dent on the spot, as this in-denture witnesseth.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">To the Rank of Major-General have risen!</span>"—<i>Critic.</i> From a +paragraph in last week's <i>Truth</i> we extract the following:—"Another +scandalous 'selection' job has just been perpetrated at the War +Office. Colonel <span class="smcap">Trotter</span>, who has been promoted to the rank of +major-general, has seen no war service, and has no professional claims +whatever upon the authorities." If this information be correct, the +colonel should be remembered by the distinctly Dickensian title of +<i>"Job" Trotter</i>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="ph4">THE LAST KNIGHT OF THE SEASON.</p> + +<p>On Monday, July 29, Sir <span class="smcap">Augustus Harris</span>, bidding farewell to +a typical '95 Covent Garden audience (house crowded in every part), +seized the opportunity to present one of his lightning conductors with +a "<i>bâton</i> of honour." In a spontaneous speech, <span class="smcap">Druriolanus</span> +declared that Signor <span class="smcap">Mancinelli</span> had "worked like a Trojan," +and the announcement was received with sympathetic applause. Still, +it was thought possible by those present that the pleasant and +prosperous <i>impresario</i> was in search of something that he had +seemingly lost—"a little poem of his own." We have no hesitation in +publishing the following lines, entitled <i>Sans Adieu</i>, found in the +neighbourhood of the C. G. orchestra. If they are not from the pen of +<span class="smcap">Druriolanus</span>, they ought to have been:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not farewell, my <span class="smcap">Mancinelli</span>!<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><span class="smcap">Mancinelli</span>, <i>au revoir!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">As harmonious <i>fratelli</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">We shall meet again! <i>Espoir!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take, oh take this shining <i>bâton</i>.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You're a marvel! <i>O, si sic!</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">When you've got it, with your hat on.<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>En vacance</i> you'll cut your stick.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You will wave it, you will wield it<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Always, my conductor prime,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never up again you'll yield it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ever living to beat time!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grasp it, use it, <span class="smcap">Mancinelli</span>!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Highest praise to you is due!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With it beat Old Time to jelly,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till Conductor Time beats <i>you!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>More Honours.</p> + +<p>Motto for Sir <span class="smcap">William Dunn</span>: "<i>Ce qu'il fait c'est bien fait.</i>" +Likewise "Just Dunn enough."</p> + +<p>For Mr. <span class="smcap">John Tomlinson Brunner, M.P.</span>, a Brunneretcy.</p> + +<p>Motto for Sir <span class="smcap">A. B. Forwood</span>: "<i>En avant! et plus en avant que +jamais.</i>"</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"H.M.S."—Should H.M. the King of the <span class="smcap">Belgians</span> ask <span class="smcap">H. M. +Stanley, M.P.</span>, to return to Congo-land, the inquiry wired will +take this simple form "<i>Congo?</i>" and the answer must be "<i>Can't go</i>." +<i>On dit.</i> The H.M.'s have settled satisfactorily.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Medical Congress.</span>—Explanation:—The "Anti-toxin" party is +against the use of a dinner bell or gong. They do not agree with Lord +<span class="smcap">Byron</span>, "The tocsin of the soul, the dinner bell."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 642px;"> +<a href="images/067full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/067.jpg" width="642" height="800" alt="THE NEW KEEPERS" /></a> +<div class="caption">THE NEW KEEPERS.</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Squire Bull</span> (<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">S-l-sb-ry</span> <i>and</i> +<span class="smcap">Ch-mb-rl-n</span>). "WELL, MY MEN—NOW I'VE TAKEN YOU ON, I SHALL +EXPECT BIGGER BAGS THAN I'VE HAD LATELY."</p></div> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a><br /><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 404px;"> +<a href="images/069full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/069.jpg" width="404" height="500" alt="REMINISCENCE OF A RECENT POLITICAL CONTEST" /> +</a><div class="caption">REMINISCENCE OF A RECENT POLITICAL CONTEST.</div> + +<p><i>Harmless Individual</i> (<i>who has suddenly and unexpectedly been +assaulted and battered by inebriated party</i>). "<span class="smcap">You Scoundrel! +What's the meaning of this?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Inebriated Politician.</i> "<span class="smcap">'Leckshuns, ole F'la! +'Leckshuns!</span>—(<i>hic</i>)——"</p> + +<p class="author">[<i>Comes a cropper himself.</i></p> +</div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">THE MEETING OF THE WATER-RATEPAYERS.</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p>["The New Town Hall in Mare Street, Hackney, was altogether too small +to hold the crowds who came last night (August 1) to protest against +the action of the East London Water Company in cutting down the supply +of water during the past few weeks."—<i>Evening News.</i>]</p></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Air</span>—"<i>The Meeting of the Waters.</i>"</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There is not in the whole land a meeting so meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As that of the ratepayers held at Mare Street.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No mare's nest they'd found, no, the Hackneyite heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was hot at the new Water Company start!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It <i>was</i> not that Nature had stinted supply;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Monopolist pretext appears "all my eye."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas <i>not</i> summer parching of river and rill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! no—it was something more troublesome still.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas that greed and neglect had combined, it is clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make East End water deficient and dear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Monopoly now the supply must improve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or more than mere Mare Streets will be on the move.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Big Monopolist Mammon, how calm could you rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With your dividends high in the way you love best;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when water runs short, and diseases increase,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The East End won't leave you and your Water at peace.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gully-ver.</span>—Mr. <span class="smcap">Balfour's</span> decision as to not +disturbing the <span class="smcap">Speaker</span> in his uneasy chair was e-gully +awaited, and is, it is hoped, accepted e-gully by all parties. So now, +in his chair, Mr. <span class="smcap">Gully</span> will reign re-gully.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Latest Fashion.</span>—Bicycle dinners and suppers have been the +vogue. <i>Pièce de résistance</i> is of course "Cold Wheel." This dish is +selected because whatever the number "wheel" is sure to go round.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">LEAVE OF ABSENCE TO AUGUST-OUT DALY CO.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Augustin Daly's</span> Company has left us just as play-goers had +taken a fancy to <i>Nancy & Co</i>. To paraphrase the old refrain—</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And all their fancy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dwelt upon <span class="smcap">Nancy</span><br /></span> +<span class="i1">The play called <i>Nancy & Co.</i><br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>It went as a lively laughter-raiser should go, with Miss <span class="smcap">Ada +Rehan</span> excellent in every way; Miss <span class="smcap">Maxine Elliot</span> +charming; <span class="smcap">James Lewis</span> inimitably funny, and Mr. +<span class="smcap">Worthing</span> ("quite a Bright'un," as <span class="smcap">Wagstaff</span> says) +capital. That the fun of a farcical comedy should be kept up through +four acts is a tribute to the original work and to the skill of its +adaptor, Mr. <i>Daly</i> himself. <i>"Vive la Compagnie!" et au revoir!</i></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A Sportsman's View of It.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Chamberlain</span> <i>vice</i> <span class="smcap">Rosebery</span>! What fun!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The change means order, peace, and lots of tin for us.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What are the Derbies twain young Primrose won<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the <i>New Markets</i> many <span class="smcap">Joe</span> will win for us?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">"AFTER THE CALL WAS OVER."</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>Notes for an Additional Chapter to the History of Hullibulgaria.</i>)</p> + +<p>The Deputation did their very best. They were most anxious to make +things smooth. "He whom they desired to obey" would wear an inferior +sort of crown, robes of cotton-backed velvet, trimmed with imitation +fur. He would not give away orders—he would only take them. He would +not command the army, save as an agent acting under direction from the +Master. There is nothing he would not do to secure the goodwill of his +great, his benevolent, his all-powerful Master.</p> + +<p>The Bear was very amiable. The Bear was pleased with the Deputation +and with the nation they represented. And having said this, there was +nothing further for the Bear to say.</p> + +<p>"But, most powerful of powers, most clement of sovereignties," urged +the Deputation, "there is another matter needing decision. How about +the Prince?"</p> + +<p>"What Prince?" softly murmured the Bear, in a tone of curiosity +combined with astonishment.</p> + +<p>"The Prince we wish to serve," explained the Deputation; "the Prince +who desires to serve you."</p> + +<p>"Have you read the Treaty of Berlin?" asked Bruin. "It is a most +excellent agreement, and deserves special attention. Does the name of +any Prince appear therein?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied the Deputation; "and the same painful omission is +observable in the <i>Almanac de Gotha</i>. So we would petition on our +knees that the painful omission should be supplied. We ask that the +Prince——"</p> + +<p>"Stop! stop!" cried the Bear. "You are talking of a myth. As Mrs. +<span class="smcap">Gamp</span>—a well-known Englishwoman—once observed, 'I don't +believe there ain't no sech person.' So think I, and so thinks the +Treaty of Berlin."</p> + +<p>And so the Deputation returned from whence they came, and "the Prince" +continued to "take the waters" without obtaining the cure he desired. +It was disappointing to His Highness, but not to the Editor of the +<i>Almanac de Gotha</i>, who found a revised edition of his excellent +periodical was, at least for the present, unnecessary.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>What title will Baron <span class="smcap">de Worms</span> take? Viscount +<span class="smcap">Chrysalis</span>? to end by becoming Le Duc <span class="smcap">de Papillon</span>?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 850px;"> +<a href="images/070full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/070.jpg" width="850" height="582" alt="A PARLIAMENTARY PROSPECT" /> +</a><div class="caption">Br-ce. B-nn-rm-n. Asq-th.<br /> +A PARLIAMENTARY PROSPECT.</div> + +<hr class="tb" /> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + +<p class="ph4">PASSION AND POETRY.</p> + + + + + + +<p><i>Sir W. V. H-rc-rt</i> (<i>on Opposition Bench</i>). "<span class="smcap">How hot and +uncomfortable they must be over there! So crowded!</span>"</p></div> + + +<div class="figright" style="width: 355px;"> +<a href="images/071full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/071.jpg" width="355" height="550" alt="AN EYE TO EFFECT" /> +</a><div class="caption">AN EYE TO EFFECT.</div> + +<p><i>Little Dives.</i> "<span class="smcap">Oh, by the way, Belairs—awfully sorry to cut +you out, you know—but I've just proposed to Lady Barbara, and she's +accepted me, and we're to be married in September. And look here, Old +Chappie; I want you to be my Best Man. I want to make a good Show at +the Altar, you know!</span>"</p></div> + +<p><br />I was immensely struck, a few days ago, by a passage in a speech +recently delivered by the Archbishop of <span class="smcap">Canterbury</span>, in +which he explained his method of dispelling those passing fits of +ill-temper from which, alas! not even Archbishops are wholly free. "At +times," so ran the report of His Grace's words, "anger or irritation +came upon him, but on the table he kept a book of pleasant poems, +of which he would read a few lines, and the irritation would melt +away." Immediately I determined to follow this noble example. It was +unfortunate that the "book of pleasant poems" was not described more +specifically—could it be the verses of Mr. <span class="smcap">Arthur Christopher +Benson</span>?—but I bought a pocket volume of <i>Selections from the +Great Poets</i>, which contained enough variety to suit every case, and +then looked out for an opportunity of trying the Archbishop's plan.</p> + +<p>I had not long to wait. That very evening I came across my uncle +<span class="smcap">Robert</span> at Clapham Junction, in a furious rage at having +just missed the last train to Slowborough, where he lives. At once +I produced my volume, and in slow and emphatic accents I read aloud +some three or four hundred lines from "Paradise Lost." I was about +to add one or two of <span class="smcap">Wordsworth's</span> sonnets, when I realised +that my uncle had long since disappeared, and that I was surrounded +by a jeering crowd, who evidently supposed me to be a member of the +Salvation Army.</p> + +<p>On the following morning I received a visit from <span class="smcap">Snips</span>, my +tailor. He was impolite enough to suggest a settlement of what he +termed my "small account," a demand, as I politely but plainly assured +him, which was altogether absurd. As he showed distinct symptoms of +irritation at this juncture, I began to read him a scene from <i>Measure +for Measure</i>. Strangely enough, this seemed only to irritate him +further, and I understand that he intends to take proceedings against +me in the County Court. This second unaccountable failure of the +Archbishop's remedy greatly surprised and pained me, but I decided to +give it another trial.</p> + +<p>This morning I was playing golf with my friend <span class="smcap">Macfoozle</span>. +At no time a skilful golfer, <span class="smcap">Macfoozle's</span> form to-day was +worse than ever; whenever he made a bad stroke—and he seldom made +a good one—he indulged in the most violent language. Fortunately +my volume of poetry was in my pocket. When he completely missed his +drive at the second hole, I read him <span class="smcap">Coleridge's</span> <i>Dejection</i>. +When he broke his mashie at the fourth, I treated him with copious +selections from <i>In Memoriam</i>. Finally, he got badly bunkered while +playing to the fourteenth hole. For some ten minutes he smote furiously +with his niblick, only raising prodigious clouds of sand as the +result of his efforts. This was clearly a golden opportunity for the +Archbishop's cure, "anger and irritation" but faintly represented +<span class="smcap">Macfoozle's</span> rage. Seating myself on the edge of the bunker, +I began to read aloud <i>The Ring and the Book</i> with the utmost pathos. +Over what followed I prefer to draw a veil. It is enough to say that a +niblick is a very effective weapon, and that I write these lines in bed.</p> + +<p>When I recover, I really must call at Lambeth for fuller directions. +The archiepiscopal remedy for angry passions does not seem invariably +happy in its results, as far as my experience goes.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Malt-Liquor-Tippler's Maxim.</span>—<i>"Nihil ale-ienum a me +pewter":</i>—"Nothing in the shape of beer comes amiss to me if it's in a +pewter."</p> + + + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">A Chip to the Champion.</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p>[Mr. <span class="smcap">Ranjitsinhji</span> is running Mr. <span class="smcap">W. G. Grace</span> very +close in the batting averages.]</p></div> + +<p><i>To the ancient air of "Cheer up Sam!"</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Buck-up, Grace!</span><br /></span> +<span class="i2">And don't let your average down!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For "<span class="smcap">Ranjit</span>" seems running you hard for first place,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To collar your Cricketing Crown!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Proud o' the Title.</span>"—Sir <span class="smcap">Henry James</span> to be "Lord +<span class="smcap">Jeames</span>." How delighted <span class="smcap">W. M. Thackeray</span> would have +been!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">By a Reasonable Rad.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Why</i> were we whipped? Rads wrangle round,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But to <i>the</i> cause make scant allusion.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When all's summed up, it will be found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Fusion" has won against <i>Con</i>-fusion!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Suggestion.</span>—In latest <i>Observer</i> is a capital article by +Mr. <span class="smcap">Escott</span>, whose text is that "smart" Society transplants to +London all Parisian fashions that will bear the process. The title is +"British Boulevardism;" but one still more suggestive of the mixture +would be "John-Bullvardism." Perhaps Mr. <span class="smcap">Escott</span> may adopt this +and give us another column.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">ROUNDABOUT READINGS.</p> + +<p>In a biographical sketch of the late Rev. Dr. <span class="smcap">Julius Hawley +Seelye</span>, formerly President of Amherst College, in America, I +read that "Amherst made him President notwithstanding considerable +opposition in the faculty. He soon overcame that, and advanced the +prosperity of the College in the accessions to its faculty and +endowments that he secured. He soon required the students to sign an +agreement to be gentlemen. A violation of the pledge resulted in the +termination of their careers at Amherst." This sounds strange, for it +would appear that if no pledge had been given the students might have +behaved as they liked, without terminating their careers. The idea of +solemnly pledging yourself to be a gentleman is quite colossal.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 267px;"> +<a href="images/072full.jpg"> + +<img src="images/072.jpg" width="267" height="300" alt="untitled" /></a> +</div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The Independent Labour Party is not dead yet. It is forming clubs, +just like any ordinary humdrum party. The <i>Western Daily Press</i> +reports that "At a special meeting held at <span class="smcap">Lee's</span> Coffee +Tavern, Bath Bridge, last night, when there were present Mr. <span class="smcap">W. +S. M. Knight</span>, president of the Bristol South Independent Labour +Party (in the chair), Messrs. <span class="smcap">A. Browne</span>, <span class="smcap">E. B. Hack</span>, +<span class="smcap">C. Vale</span>, <span class="smcap">C. F. Brocklehurst</span>, <span class="smcap">T. Pole</span>, <span class="smcap">C. +Parker</span>, and <span class="smcap">W. Price</span>, it was unanimously decided to open +a club for Totterdown and the East Ward of Bedminster in connection +with the Independent Labour Party. Officers and a committee were +appointed, and suitable headquarters for the club were decided upon." +Nothing could be more appropriate. Totterdown suggests decrepitude and +failure (in this case at least), and Bedminster hints at repose and +peace. I offer the suggestion and the hint gratis to the Independent +Labour Windbags.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The Loveday Street Canal Bridge (which is, I fancy, in Birmingham) is +evidently a demon bridge with a depraved taste for injuring children. +One day last week it threw <span class="smcap">John Chick</span>, aged seven, off and +broke one of his legs. About five hours later, resenting an attempt on +the part of <span class="smcap">Thomas Walton</span>, aged twelve, to climb it, it flung +him off on to the towing-path and injured his back. A few days before +that it had precipitated the same <span class="smcap">Thomas Walton</span> into the +water, whence he was rescued with some difficulty. Evidently this is a +bridge with an ungovernable temper, and the authorities should guard it +efficiently.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><i>The Scotsman</i> informs me that "speaking the other day at Haddington, +Mr. <span class="smcap">Balfour</span> glanced scathingly at those politicians of the +baser sort who seek to confuse great issues by dragging to the front +petty or irrelevant questions, and the breath of whose nostrils is +the disturbance of the harmony which should subsist between class +and class of the community." On this two questions arise. The first +is how Mr. <span class="smcap">Balfour</span>, an amiable gentleman, managed to glance +scathingly. To scath, as I learn from the dictionary, means to hurt, +to injure; and, personally, I cannot imagine Mr. <span class="smcap">Balfour</span> +infusing very much venom into a mere glance of his expressive eye. The +second question is how politicians, even of the baser sort, can go on +living when their unfortunate lungs are filled with a disturbance of +harmony. That they should have sufficient strength left to drag to the +front petty or irrelevant questions is nothing short of a marvel, due +allowance being made for metaphors.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A golfer is in trouble, and has confided his difficulties to <i>Golf</i>.</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p>Whilst playing on the links at Streetly, on July 16, he drove a ball, +which apparently fell clear, but which for some time could not be +found. After some little hunting it was discovered under a small tuft +of heather in a lark's nest, resting on the back of a young lark, +apparently about four days old, together with three lark's eggs, +which were quite intact. The golfer was obliged, of course, to lift +the ball and place it behind, as it would have been gross cruelty to +have played it from the nest. It was match play. Under the exceptional +circumstances was he bound to lose the hole? The editor replies that +if a player were a stickler for the law and nothing but the law, he, +of course, would be entitled to enforce it against his opponent who +found the ball in the nest.</p></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A tee for your ball, you may fashion of sand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(Which is found in the sugar you use for your tea);<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then you spread your legs wide, and you take a firm stand,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And away with a whack goes the ball flying free.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If it flies like a bird, there's no need to explain;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If not, then the ways of that golfer are dark,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who attempts, though the effort is doomed to be vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To stand, taking tee on the back of a lark.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>There has been some excitement at Weston-super-Mare. The "Conservative +party organized a reception for the Hon. <span class="smcap">G. H. Jolliffe</span> on his +first appearance in the town since his election for the Wells division. +Arrangements were made for those intending to take part in the +procession to meet the hon. gentleman at the Potteries on his return +from Banwell Horse Show at 7 p.m., but he arrived in the town a quarter +of an hour too early, and scores of enthusiasts were disappointed. +Those, however, who happened to be early enough followed the hon. +gentleman, some on foot and others in cabs, to the Royal Hotel, the +Town Band heading the procession. Mr. <span class="smcap">Jolliffe</span> rode on a coach +drawn by four horses, and was supported by several of the leaders of +the party in the town. Subsequently he addressed those assembled." +But if Mr. <span class="smcap">Jolliffe</span> rode on a coach, why was it necessary to +support him? Moreover, seeing that it was a four-horse affair, it seems +unjust that the leaders should be talked of and that no mention at all +should be made of the wheelers.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nana Sahib</span> has died once more.</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p>A Mr. <span class="smcap">William Brown</span>, who was formerly an officer in the East +India Company's service, and is now residing at San Francisco, gives +the following particulars regarding the fate of <span class="smcap">Nana Sahib</span>. +Mr. <span class="smcap">Brown</span> says that he was commodore of the Ganges Fleet +in the Indian Mutiny, and was attacked by Sepoys under <span class="smcap">Nana +Sahib</span> himself, who was shot in the fighting, and afterwards died +on board Mr. <span class="smcap">Brown's</span> ship. <span class="smcap">Nana Sahib's</span> body was +then cremated, and the ashes were committed to the river.</p></div> + +<p>Why, oh why, has Mr. <span class="smcap">Brown</span>, whom I heartily congratulate on +clearing up the mystery, kept silence for nearly forty years? And, by +the way, which Mr. <span class="smcap">William Brown</span> is he? There must be a good +many <span class="smcap">William Brown's</span> even in San Francisco. Before concluding +that the matter is definitely settled, I should like to hear Mr. +<span class="smcap">Henry Smith</span>, Mr. <span class="smcap">Richard Robinson</span>, and Mr. <span class="smcap">John +Jones</span> on the subject.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">WHERE NOT TO GO.</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>Hints by our Pessimist Passenger.</i>)</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Amsterdam.</i>—Too much sea before you get there.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Boulogne.</i>—Not particularly pleasant at low tide.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Cologne.</i>—The reverse of fragrant at all times.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Dieppe.</i>—The trap of the tripper.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Etretat.</i>—No longer what it was.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Frankfort.</i>—Only good for a change of money.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Geneva.</i>—Dull and dear.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Heidelberg.</i>—Too much hill, and too little castle.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Interlaken.</i>—The 'appy 'ome of <span class="smcap">'Arry</span>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Jura Pass.</i>—Sure find for <span class="smcap">Brown</span>, <span class="smcap">Jones</span>, and <span class="smcap">Robinson</span>.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Karlsbad.</i>—Kill or cure.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Lyons.</i>—Apotheosis of silk monotonous.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Marseilles.</i>—Good place for musquitoes, bad for all else.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Nice.</i>—Too near to Monte Carlo.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Ouchy.</i>—Hotel good, but surroundings superfluous.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Paris.</i>—Too hot. Theatres closed and wideawakes seen on the boulevards.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Quebec.</i>—Dangerous rival to Bath, Coventry, and Jericho.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Rotterdam.</i>—Worthy of its name.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Suez.</i>—Not comparable to Cairo.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Trouville.</i>—Requires antedating a quarter of a century.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Uig.</i>—Skyed and out of reach.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Venice.</i>—Vulgarised by the steam launches.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Wiesbaden.</i>—Has not yet recovered the loss of its table.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Xerez.</i>—Long journey for a glass of sherry.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Yokohama.</i>—Not a patch upon Pekin.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Zurich.</i>—Alliterative attraction for zomebody.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p class="ph4">A BONNE BOUCHE.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Wagstaff.</i> Ah! I have lived many years in the bush.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Leo Hunter.</i> How interesting! I suppose you must have become +almost savage!</p> + +<p><i>Mr. W. Frequently</i>, when I couldn't get a 'bus or a cab.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. L. H.</i> (<i>utterly astonished</i>). A 'bus or a cab! in the bush!!</p> + +<p><i>Mr. W.</i> (<i>pleasantly</i>). Ah, yes; I was talking of "Shepherd's Bush." +Good morning.</p> + +<p class="stage">[<i>Exit chuckling.</i></p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p>⁂ <i>Note by the Bird in the Bush.</i>—In future this +little jest of <span class="smcap">Waggy's</span> will be impossible, as it is proposed +to re-name Shepherd's Bush, and call it Pastoral Park, or All-Askew +Park, or something of the sort.]</p></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Sortes Shaksperianæ.</span>"—On the new Postmaster-General:—</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> + +<p> + +"Friend post the Duke of <span class="smcap">Norfolk</span>."<br /> +<br /> +<i>Richard the Third</i>, Act iv., Scene 4.<br /> +</p></div> + + +<p>And we hope his Grace will be "Friend post," and benefit us all.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A volume of Reminiscences by <span class="smcap">Henry Russell</span> is promised. +Evidently this ought to be a "Cheery, Boys, Cheery" sort of book.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +109, August 10, 1895, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 44809-h.htm or 44809-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/8/0/44809/ + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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1895, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 109, August 10, 1895 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis Burnand + +Release Date: January 31, 2014 [EBook #44809] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 109. + +_August 10, 1895._ + + + + +A PSALM OF AUGUST. + +(_For the Circular Tourist_.) + + Tell me not, in Summer numbers, + "Holidays are but a dream!" + If you hold that vacs are slumbers, + Well--things are not what they seem. + + COOK is real! GAZE is earnest! + And the earth's end is their goal; + "Bust" thou art, and "bust" returnest, + Sing they to the tripper's soul. + + Not enjoyment--rather, sorrow + Greets the tourist on his way; + His to toil, that each to-morrow + Find him farther on his way. + + Tours are long, and Time is fleeting, + While we dire discomfort brave; + In globe-trotting, record-beating, + Pleasure surely finds its grave. + + Let us, still, each town be "doing," + Since "tow-rowing" is our fate-- + Then, half-dead with guide-pursuing, + Brag o'er those at home who wait! + + * * * * * + +"FORWOOD BOYS."--Sir ARTHUR FORWOOD, the new Baronet, +observes the Day-by-Day-istical writer in the _Daily Telegraph_, "is +not to be confounded with his brother, Sir WILLIAM FORWOOD." +Why not? Why interfere with the liberty of speech on the part of some +Radicals, who might say "Confound 'em both!" Or, in the words of the +National Anthem, "Confound their politics." + + * * * * * + +OMITTED FROM THE GRACIOUS SPEECH OF H.R.H. THE PRINCE OF WALES AT +THE OPENING OF THE SOUTHAMPTON NEW DOCK.--"I appear here as the +Judge, at whose word the prisoner is to be let into the dock, and, +subsequently, let out again. Ladies and gentlemen, the prisoner is--the +water." (_Cheers._) + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: PRESIDING DEITY. 1895. + +VENUS AN--ILINE DYE--OMENE.] + + * * * * * + +JOEYING AT THE PRINCE OF WALES'S. + +There have been JOES not a few on the stage. Coming down from +the time of JOE GRIMALDI, we pass on the way _Joseph Andrews_, +_Poll and Partner Joe_, _Poor Joe_ from _Bleak House_, and many other +JOES until we come to _Gentleman Joe_, hansom cab-driver, +played by ARTHUR ROBERTS. The question and answer in the old +idiotic nigger song applies appropriately here, with slight adaptation: + + What! _de_ JOE? Yes! _de_ JOE. + Spruce JOE kicking up ahind and afore, + KITTY LOFTUS playing up to Mister JOE. + +And with the assistance of the always graceful PHYLLIS +BROUGHTON--of whom _Gentleman Joe_ might have sung, but doesn't, +"PHYLLIS is my only _Fare_"--aided also by the pretty-voiced +LETTIE SEARLE, helped by the sprightly earnestness of Miss +CLARA JECKS, who has turned over a new leaf and come out as a +page, and kept moving by the dashing "go" of Miss SADIE JEROME +(not at all a "sad eye" nor a "say die" sort of young lady) as _Lalage +Potts_, this two-act musical farce, beginning as a kind of _High Life +below Stairs_ and ending anyhow, offering, as it does, opportunities +to Our Only ARTHUR for introducing into it any amount of +"divarsion" in the way of new songs, eccentric speeches, nods, winks, +becks, and wreathed smiles, may be continuing its successful career in +the summer of '96, there being no apparent reason why its run should +ever stop, that is as long as _Gentleman Arthur Joe Roberts_ handles +the ribands as the popular _Cabbing-it Minister_. + + * * * * * + +A NEW TITLE.--Our GRACE, the cricketer, is not made +a "Sir" or raised to a dukedom. There is, however, in view of present +craze, a great chance for conferring the greater honour on a champion +bicyclist. His title would be "The Duke of WHEELINGTON." + + * * * * * + +SCRAPS FROM CHAPS. + +A DIVIDEND DESERVED.--The Glasgow Town Council has been +running its own tram-cars for a year past, and has cleared more than +L20,000 of profit for the citizens out of the business. There is huge +rejoicing on the Clyde, and no wonder, as the result is due to sheer +good management, without over-charging the public or over-driving the +drivers. The Tramways Committee reports:-- + + Further, the Committee have given effect to what they believe to + be the general feeling of the citizens--viz., that the cars, which + necessarily form a notable feature of the streets of the city, + should not only be tasteful in design and colour, and comfortable + for passengers, but also that their general appearance should not be + marred or their destinations obscured by advertisements. + +Moral for many southern railway, tram, and omnibus companies--Go and do +likewise! Moral for Glasgow citizens--Get carried over your tram-lines +often enough, and you'll carry over a big dividend to decrease your +next year's rates! + + * * * * * + +SUB-LIME!--This is how "business" is transacted by some of the +Youghal Town Commissioners. The question was--who should supply them +with lime! + + _Mr. Kennedy._ I propose that thirty-nine barrels be bought and paid + for. + + _Mr. Loughlan._ I propose that he supply the lime at 1_s._ per barrel. + + _Mr. Long_ (_warmly_). I say the Board can't do anything of the kind. + + _Mr. Loughlan._ You'll get choked if you don't keep cool (_laughter_). + + _Mr. Long_ (_excitedly_). Take care of your windpipe (_laughter_). I + suppose he gave you a few good lumps of lime (_loud laughter_). + + _Mr. Loughlan_ (_jumping up excitedly_). Now that is a gross insult. + + _The Chairman._ Order, order, gentlemen. + + Then Youghal's worried chairman raised a cry of "Order!"--when + A lump of old white limestone took him in the abdomen; + And he smiled a wan official smile and walked out at the door, + And the tongues of LONG and LOUGHLAN interested him no more. + + * * * * * + +PORKERS AND PAUPERS.--Bath Workhouse pigs "live on the best of +good cheer" in the form and substance of milk, so the municipal pork +and rate-aided bacon ought to be prime. The _Bristol Mercury_ reports a +meeting of the Bath guardians, when + + Mr. MANCHIP called attention to the fact that some of the + children did not even touch their milk gruel and dry bread which + was served out for breakfast. On Friday morning when the visitors + were at the Workhouse at seven o'clock two buckets of milk gruel + were taken out to the pigs. Mr. MANCHIP proposed that the + Medical Officer be asked if he would be good enough at his earliest + convenience to consider whether a change could be made in the + children's diet. The Chairman thought if the gruel was sweetened with + a spoonful of treacle the children would then like it. It was agreed + to give the Chairman's suggestion a fortnight's trial. + +Congratulations to the Bath children on being e-manchip-ated from their +old diet! + + * * * * * + +For securing "absolute impartiality" in conferring the prizes at the +Llanelly National Eisteddfod, the judges had "a pit dug for them," +into which they disappeared during the progress of competitions, +so that participators could not "fix them with a glittering +eye," and compel them (by hypnotic means) to award a prize. Sir +JOSEPH BARNBY--warbling, _sotto voce_, "This is my time for +disappearing"--greatly enjoyed these dives to the bottom of the well +in search of Truth, and no doubt the novel departure "assisted" the +blindness of Justice. But, so far as dignity is concerned, "Oh! the +pit-y of it." + + * * * * * + + We read of a cooky at Claughton, + In music she was a self-taught'un; + But her mistress, I fear, + Said 'twas nothing but beer + +that caused her cook to vociferate hymns and, in her harmonious +enthusiasm, to return home towards midnight and hammer loudly at the +door. We know not whether this melodious _cuisiniere's_ recipe for +cleaning fire-irons "with a wet rag and a bucket of water" is to be +found in Mrs. GLASSE'S _Art of Cookery_, but the learned Judge +decided in favour of the mistress, against whom MARY ROGERS (a +poetical name forsooth) brought an action for unjustifiable dismissal. +Alas! poor cook. She must, henceforward, do her stewing without singing +and her "mashes" without melody. + + * * * * * + +When Mr. HENRY MCCALMONT gives "receptions" they will be +styled, not "_soirees_," but "After-Newnes." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "DOTH NOT A 'MEETING' LIKE THIS MAKE AMENDS?" + +_Duke of W-stm-nst-r_ (_as they come out of the Hall, Chester_). +"EXCELLENT SPEECH, SIR! SO VERY KIND OF YOU TO COME!" + +_Mr. G._ "DON'T MENTION IT, DUKE. IF THERE'S ONE THING I LIKE MORE +THAN ANOTHER, IT'S A NON-POLITICAL MEETING!"] + + * * * * * + +A SOLILOQUY IN ST. JAMES'S PARK. + +(_By a Socialistic Loafer._) + +[Illustration] + + Besoide the worter in Sin Jimes's Pork, + I've stritched meself ter snooze hunder this ole tree-- + But cawn't, fur all the keckle, screech, an' squork, + From these yere ducks an' swans, an' sim'lar poultry! + + Them fowls is kep' up orf the Nytion's fun's; + If yer chucked stones at 'em there'd be a fuss mide; + They're reg'lar bustin' with the kikes an' buns + As they gits frowed by hevery kiddy's nuss-mide! + + I'll lay a femily cud liv fur weeks + On arf the screps them lyzy hoidle ducks re-jecks + hevery hour, a-turnin' up their beaks, + An' wallerin' in comfit an' in lux'ry! + + Whoy should the loikes o' them 'ave hall the luck, + Whoile sech as me----? It's skendalus, I s'y 'tis, + That--jest becos I ain't a bloomin' duck-- + Sercoiety don't grub and board me grytis! + + Some d'y we'll mike hour vices 'eard, in 'owls + O' ryge, an' s'y to--well, no matter _'oo_ it is-- + "Ain't we more fit ter live nor worter-fowls? + We're yumin beans--not feathered sooperflooities!" + + I'd cop thet one jess waddlin' hup the grorss, + An' twist 'is neck--'e's honly fit fur cookin'; + I would, on _prinserple_, as bold as brorss-- + If that there bloomin' Keeper wasn't lookin'! + + * * * * * + +"OH! LIZA."--Another subject for CHEVALIER. A special +meeting was held in Liverpool to protest against the presence of +Cockney costers who, it was asserted, seriously injured the business +of Liverpudlian "market-tenants." Mr. WALKER (is he of the +celebrated Hookey branch of the family?) averred that he had "seen a +coster with his barrow standing before the LORD MAYOR'S shop +for half-an-hour." Our sympathetic soul weeps at this gross injustice +to the worthy syndic, and we trust it will not cost-er him too much. +But, as the lawyer remarked, _de costibus non est disputandum_. + + * * * * * + +C. C. NEWS. LATEST (LAST THURSDAY) AS TO SCHOOL BOARD +SQUABBLES.--Mr. BOWIE wanted to have his Bowie-knife into +Mr. DIGGLE and others; but was prevented. A BOWIE, +not very sharp and without point, is rather a useless weapon in a fight. + + * * * * * + +"WURM WURK!"--At Bexhill-on-Sea the "Improvement +Committee"--(how wise of Bexhill-on-Sea to have instituted a +permanent "Improvement Committee," otherwise it might become +Bexhill-_at_-Sea!)--has engaged the exclusive services of Herr +WURM and his band. New motto for this new watering-place, "The +Early Beaks-'ll catch the Wurm." The musical _pabulum_ here provided +will be known as "the Diet of Wurm's." Band to play during every meal. +Likewise "Wurm Baths" with music. The eminent conductor will Wurm +himself into favour with everyone. + + * * * * * + +The _Daily Telegraph_ notifies a novelty in return tickets introduced +by the South London Electric Railway. "The return half of the ticket is +usable at any time." The idea being not "Go as you please," but "Go as +we (the Co.) please, and come back as you like." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE EXTINCTION OF THE HORSE. + +_Squire._ "ISN'T THAT THE MARE, COPER, YOU HOPED TO MAKE THREE +FIGURES OF AS A LADY'S HACK!" + +_Local Dealer._ "YES, SIR, THIS IS HER, WORSE LUCK! SHE'LL HAVE TO +GO FOR A 'CABBER' NOW--UNLESS I BOIL HER DOWN FOR BICYCLE OIL!"] + + * * * * * + +LA GEOGRAPHIE DE LONDRES. + +_A Monsieur Punch._ + +MONSIEUR,--_Je viens d'arriver_--but hold! I go to write in +english, which I know enough well. I am come to London to this Congress +of Geographs. I cross the Sleeve--_la Manche_, how say you? Ah _la +douleureuse traversee_, the dolorous traversy! In fine, the train +arrives at a station. I seek, I regard, I read the soap, the mustard, +the other _reclames_--how say you?--but not the name of the station. +Then a cry, "Londonbridg!" Ah, it is the station of London! _Sapristi_, +how she is little this station! _La gare de Londres_ no more great than +a station of _banlieue_, near to Paris. Eh well, I descend immediately. +I seek my baggages, I go to find a _fiacre_, a "ansom." Then in English +I say to the coacher, "George Street, Number Forty." "Olraittseu," say +he. What is this that this is that that? I comprehend not. But all of +same I mount in carriage and we part. + +Soon we arrive. Hold! This is a street of commerce; there is there but +offices. And not of number forty. + +"Nottir, maounsiah?" say the coacher. Ah, I comprehend! "No," say I, +"not here." "Minnoriss," say he. "How?" say I; but we are in road. +Hold! Again a street of commerce--but of the most villain. I anger +myself. I cry, "Coacher, I have said you George Street." "Olraitt, +maounsiah," say he, "this is George Street." "Not here," I respond. "Is +there two George Streets?" Then he swear, he laugh; he ask that he may +be blown; he say more, that I comprehend not. In fine, he say, "Taoua +Ill." Again a George Street. But here some warehouses only. Then the +coacher say, "Shoditch," and we go. Again a George Street! Still more +small! Again one time I anger myself. I ask to him, "Where go you?" He +say, "Which George Street is it?" I say, "George Street, London." Then +he laugh again, and he swear; and he say, "Ollaouai." Again a George +Street! _Tiens, c'est embetant!_ But it is but a street of commerce, +and very little. "Islingtonn," say he. What! again a George Street? +_Sapristi! Quelle ville!_ If they love the name of George, these +English! But, no, still a poor little street. "Blakfraiahs," say the +coacher. We traverse some streets, some streets, without end! In fine, +see there number forty. But it is a little shop. _Mille tonnerres! Pas +encore!_ "Youstonn Road," say he. Again some streets, some streets, +without end! And again a street of commerce. And again the number forty +is a shop! _Sacre nom d'une pipe!_ "Lissn Grov," say he. Again some +_kilometres_ to traverse. What! Again a George Street? How many of them +is there, of these George Streets? And again, as you say in english, +"No go." But all of same we go, for the coacher say "Manshestasquaiah." +I shut myself the eyes, and I repose myself. + +Ah, that values better! In fine, a better street. And see, there number +forty! What joy! In fine, I arrive. How it is fatiguing, this course +in London, long of three hours or more! I descend. I demand my friend. +What? He live not here? He is gone? _A la bonne heure!_ "One more," say +the coacher. "What," I cry, "again a George Street?" "Yess, maounsiah, +Annovasquaiah." Then this one is not the house of my friend, this one +is not the George Street that I seek! _Que le diable enleve_---- + +But we continue, we arrive, in fine, it is here. All exhausted I +descend. How much pays one the course in London? In Paris it is 1.50. +Ah! in London it must be one shilling and half. This one has been a +long course; I go to give a good _pourboire_, one shilling. I offer +to the cabman two shillings and half. Then he cry, he swear, he +descend, he wish to fight me. I say, "It is not enough? How much?" +He say, "Tenbobb." What is this that this is that that? In fine, my +friends come from the house, they explain that that wishes to say, +"Ten shillings," they say he has reason, and I pay him. It costs dear +the cab of London. But it is equal to me, for now I go to pronounce a +discourse before the Geographical Congress on the George Streets of +London. He will be of the most interestings, of the most curious. I beg +you, Mister _Punch_, to make me the honour of to come to hear him, and +to agree the assurance of my sentiments the most distinguished. + + AUGUSTE. + + * * * * * + +THE POLITICAL UGLY DUCKLING. + +(_Fragments of a Brummagem Fairy Tale._) + +It was in a big town in the Midlands that the Ugly Duckling first +chipped shell. "_Cheek! Cheek! Cheek!_" squeaked the youngster as he +crept out. How big and ugly he was, to be sure! Not a bit like the +other ducklings. In fact he was a portent, and a puzzle. + +However, the ugly, grey-coated youngster, took to the water, and swam +about like the rest. "He's every inch my own child, after all," said +the old duck. "And really he's very pretty, when one comes to look at +him attentively. Quack! quack!" added she; "now, come along, and I'll +take you into high society. Now move on, and mind you cackle properly, +and bow your head before that old duck yonder, who is the noblest born +of them all. Now bend your neck, and say 'Quack!'" + +But the Ugly Duckling was an odd bird, as well as an ill-favoured one, +and gave much trouble and excited much jealousy in the duck-yard. He +quacked indeed, but he would not bend his head or bow to the old duck +properly. + +"He remained too long in the egg-shell," mused the maternal bird; "and +therefore his figure, like his manners, is not properly formed on the +true duck model. But as he's a male duck it won't matter so much. I +think he'll prove strong, and be able to fight his way through the +world." Which was true. + +<tb> + +But at first the Ugly Duckling had a baddish time of it. He was bitten, +pushed about, and made game of, not only by the ducks, but by the hens. +They all declared he was much too big, and fancied himself too much. +He certainly was not graceful, and he had a cocky, self-assertive +air which irritated the Conservative Old Cockalorums. He was always +making unexpected and unducklike sorties, "alarums and excursions," +and lifting up his raucus-caucus voice against the time-honoured rules +and respectable conventions of the duck-pond. So much so, that they +nicknamed him the "Daring Duckling," and prophesied that he would come +to a bad end. + +So he ran away, and flew over the palings. + +<tb> + +He had many adventures, and various. He dwelt for a time with a lot +of wild ducks in a marsh, and even struck up a sort of friendship +for a swarm of wild geese, who wanted to do away with domestication +and destroy the "tame villatic" tendencies of gregarious goosedom, +and abolish barn-yards and duck-ponds, peacocks, and game-fowls, and +guinea-hens, and poulterer's shops, and _pate de foie gras_, and other +checks on liberty and incentives to luxury. But somehow he didn't get +on with the wild ducks for long. He was so much wilder than they, and +wanted his own way too much and too often for the old and recognised +leaders of their flocks. And as to the wild geese, why he soon lost +sympathy with their "revolutionary programmes" and "subversive +schemes," which he learned to regard indeed as a sort of wild goose +chase, and deride and denounce as vehemently as he had aforetime +praised them. + +"I think I'll take my chance, and go abroad into the wide world," said +the Duckling. + +<tb> + +One evening, just as the sun was setting, there came a whole flock of +beautiful large birds from a grove. The Ugly Duckling had never seen +any so lovely before. They were dazzlingly white, with long graceful +necks: they were swans. They uttered a peculiar cry, and then spread +their magnificent wings and away they flew from this cold country to +warmer lands across the open sea, as was their usual custom. They rose +so high that the Ugly Duckling felt a strange sensation come over him, +a sort of delicious vertigo. He turned round and round in the water +like a wheel, stretched his neck up into the air toward them, and +uttered so loud and strange a cry that he was frightened at it himself. +Oh! never could he again forget those beautiful, happy birds, so +gracefully fleeting against a primrose sky. He knew not how those birds +were called, nor whither they were bound, but he felt an affection for +them, such as he had never yet experienced for any living creature. +And he more and more lost love for, and patience with, all his old +associates, ducks or geese, wild or domesticated. + +<tb> + +The Ugly Duckling now felt able to flap his wings. They rustled much +louder than before, and bore him away most sturdily; and before long he +found himself in a noble park, a nobleman's park; indeed, the dainty +demesne of one of those who "toil not neither do they spin." It was +quite Beaconsfieldian in its beauty, with its smooth emerald sward and +umbrageous elm-avenues, its dusky cedar clumps and tail-spreading, +crest-sunning peacocks. + +"Dear me!" mused the Ugly Duckling. "It is strange, but _I feel quite +at home here!!!_" + +Three magnificent white swans now emerged from the thicket before him; +they flapped their wings and then swam lightly on the surface of the +water. The larger one (whose beak bore the letter S as a "nick") was +dark and haughty of mien, the second (whose beak was branded B) was +slim and exceeding graceful; whilst the third, a solid and even rather +sullen-looking bird, was beak-stamped with a legible D. + +"I will fly towards these royal birds," cried the Ugly Duckling. And he +flew into the water, and swam towards those stately swans, who turned +to meet him with sail-like wings the moment they saw him. + +"Why, he is one of us!" said the darker and statelier of the three. +"Almost!" he added, _sotto voce_. + +The Ugly Duckling was startled at the remark. But looking at his +reflection in the smooth lake he was more startled still. His own image +was to his eyes no longer that of the Daring Duckling, much less of the +Ugly One. It was smart, smooth, sleek, swelling, in fact swan-like!!! +At any rate, he thought so, and so, indeed, the other three swans +seemed to think. + +He preened his feathers, and puffed forth his plumes. He flapped his +wings, and arched his neck, as he cried in the fullness of his heart:-- + +"I never dreamed of such happiness when I was the Brummagem Ugly +Duckling." + +<tb> + +It matters not being born in a duck-yard if one is hatched from a +swan's egg! + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +_In Leisure Time_, by W. S. MAVOR (ELLIOT STOCK) is, +so my Baronite reports, a daintily-bound little volume of blameless +verse, unambitious, as may be inferred from its title. The author +writes like a classical scholar, his lines are fluent and melodious, +his metre and rhyme unimpeachable, while some of the poems, such as +"Zaleucus" and "A Vision," rise distinctly above the general level. +In others there are passages which my Baronite--a sadly prosaic and +matter-of-fact person--owns to having found slightly obscure. + +For example, in the following couplet:-- + + "In vain the fickle demon sports + With fetid remnants of decay." + +[Illustration] + +He quite failed to discover what particular--or rather anything _but_ +particular--demon is referred to, or why he should amuse himself in so +eccentric and unpleasant a manner. + +Nor, my Baronite says, was his conception of contentment greatly +assisted by this somewhat complicated comparison:-- + + "Contentment is a love-commissioned barque + Sailing a self-less sea--a sea whose flood + Is ordered alway by the laughing guns + Of Virtue's fortalice, whose armament, + Primed with rose-petal powder, doth discharge + In generous rounds of sympathy with all, + Scattering happiness, whose smile betrays + The pangless hurt." + +But that, he is quite willing to admit, may be rather the fault of his +own imagination than the poet's. Again, in a poem entitled "Love's +Messengers," the author writes:-- + + "Flit thou along on softly feathered feet, + Noiseless, thou shadowy-pinioned minister, + And gently fan, _with midnight gale_, my sweet, + Lest thou awaken her." + +Which, to my Baronite, suggests the difficulty that, if the minister +fans the lady with his shadowy pinions "gently," he will fail to +produce anything resembling a "midnight gale"; on the other hand, if he +performs the part of invisible punkah so energetically as to suggest +a gale, he can hardly help awakening her unless she is a very heavy +sleeper indeed--and _might_ give her a cold in the head. Surely this is +rather an unfair dilemma on which to place a feathered minister of any +denomination. + +But after all, poetry, as my Baronite fully recognises, is not meant to +be judged by so literal a standard, and it may be cheerfully conceded +that there are many people who make a less profitable use of their +"Leisure Time" than Mr. MAVOR has done. In which opinion +concurs + + THE LEISURELY BARON DE BOOK-WORMS. + + * * * * * + +HOP(E)FUL LIBERALISM IN KENT.--Sir ISRAEL HART of +Hythe, thinks that if his friends do their work well, he may yet +find in the Hytheians an Israel-light-hearted constituency. Sir +ISRAEL is a _Jew d'esprit_. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE BICYCLE AGAIN. + +_Applicant for the Situation of Cook._ "BEFORE I GO, PLEASE, MA'AM, +MAY I ASK YOUR SERVANT TO SHOW ME THE BASEMENT? I MUST SEE THAT YOU +HAVE A CONVENIENT PLACE FOR MY BICYCLE!" + +_Mistress._ "OF COURSE I HAVE SEEN TO THAT. YOU WILL FIND A +ROOM SET APART. ONLY I MUST TELL YOU THAT I DON'T ALLOW RATIONAL +DRESS!"] + + * * * * * + +FOR THE TAILORS' CONGRESS AT VERVIERS. + +1. Why should it take nine tailors to make a man? + +2. Ought you cut a coat according to your cloth, or according to the +fashion? + +3. How do you cook a tailor's goose? Should it be basted? + +4. In England is the most suitable seaside resort for tailors +Weskit-on-Sea, or Sheerness _sur la cote_? + +5. Shall a prize be given for the best essay on the advantage of having +a pair of Pantaloons on the stage in a Pantomime? + +6. Is it a matter of universal complaint that a tailor should not be +allowed to play billiards because he scarcely passes a day without +cutting a cloth? + +7. What price for the best tale of a coat? + +8. Is it proved to satisfaction that SHAKSPEARE was a tailor +from the fact of his having written _Measure for Measure_? + +9. Whether, for the next International Yacht Race, the tailors should +enter a cutter? + + * * * * * + +GOOD BADMINTON.--Among the contents of LONGMAN'S +_Badminton Magazine_ is an article by the Markiss o' GRANBY +on Grouse; SUSAN, not Black-eyed nor Rebellious, but Countess +of Malmesbury, writes cleverly on her perch, and on the matter of +salmon the Countess would count for a lot in any ex-salmonation. Lord +ONSLOW on slow and on quick bicycling; capital. C. B. +FRY, not one of the Small Fry, gives his ideal of a cricketing +day, which is to be known as a "Fry-day." Then who is it writes a +florid account of fishing in Florida? O'TIS MYGATT. The +question of "What's on at Newmarket?" is pleasantly answered by +ALFRED WATS-ON at Newmarket. On "Old Sporting Prints," +PEEK writes with point. And on "The Alpine 'Distress Signal' +Scheme" there is a paper by C. T. DENT, who has been, more or +less, a Re-si-dent on the spot, as this in-denture witnesseth. + + * * * * * + +"TO THE RANK OF MAJOR-GENERAL HAVE RISEN!"--_Critic._ From a +paragraph in last week's _Truth_ we extract the following:--"Another +scandalous 'selection' job has just been perpetrated at the War +Office. Colonel TROTTER, who has been promoted to the rank of +major-general, has seen no war service, and has no professional claims +whatever upon the authorities." If this information be correct, the +colonel should be remembered by the distinctly Dickensian title of +_"Job" Trotter_. + + * * * * * + +THE LAST KNIGHT OF THE SEASON. + +On Monday, July 29, Sir AUGUSTUS HARRIS, bidding farewell to +a typical '95 Covent Garden audience (house crowded in every part), +seized the opportunity to present one of his lightning conductors with +a "_baton_ of honour." In a spontaneous speech, DRURIOLANUS +declared that Signor MANCINELLI had "worked like a Trojan," +and the announcement was received with sympathetic applause. Still, +it was thought possible by those present that the pleasant and +prosperous _impresario_ was in search of something that he had +seemingly lost--"a little poem of his own." We have no hesitation in +publishing the following lines, entitled _Sans Adieu_, found in the +neighbourhood of the C. G. orchestra. If they are not from the pen of +DRURIOLANUS, they ought to have been:-- + + Not farewell, my MANCINELLI! + MANCINELLI, _au revoir!_ + As harmonious _fratelli_ + We shall meet again! _Espoir!_ + Take, oh take this shining _baton_. + You're a marvel! _O, si sic!_ + When you've got it, with your hat on. + _En vacance_ you'll cut your stick. + + You will wave it, you will wield it + Always, my conductor prime, + Never up again you'll yield it, + Ever living to beat time! + Grasp it, use it, MANCINELLI! + Highest praise to you is due! + With it beat Old Time to jelly, + Till Conductor Time beats _you!_ + + * * * * * + +More Honours. + +Motto for Sir WILLIAM DUNN: "_Ce qu'il fait c'est bien fait._" +Likewise "Just Dunn enough." + +For Mr. JOHN TOMLINSON BRUNNER, M.P., a Brunneretcy. + +Motto for Sir A. B. FORWOOD: "_En avant! et plus en avant que +jamais._" + + * * * * * + +"H.M.S."--Should H.M. the King of the BELGIANS ask H. M. +STANLEY, M.P., to return to Congo-land, the inquiry wired will +take this simple form "_Congo?_" and the answer must be "_Can't go_." +_On dit._ The H.M.'s have settled satisfactorily. + + * * * * * + +MEDICAL CONGRESS.--Explanation:--The "Anti-toxin" party is +against the use of a dinner bell or gong. They do not agree with Lord +BYRON, "The tocsin of the soul, the dinner bell." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE NEW KEEPERS. + +SQUIRE BULL (_to_ S-L-SB-RY _and_ +CH-MB-RL-N). "WELL, MY MEN--NOW I'VE TAKEN YOU ON, I SHALL +EXPECT BIGGER BAGS THAN I'VE HAD LATELY."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: REMINISCENCE OF A RECENT POLITICAL CONTEST. + +_Harmless Individual_ (_who has suddenly and unexpectedly been +assaulted and battered by inebriated party_). "YOU SCOUNDREL! +WHAT'S THE MEANING OF THIS?" + +_Inebriated Politician._ "'LECKSHUNS, OLE F'LA! +'LECKSHUNS!--(_hic_)----" + + [_Comes a cropper himself._ #/ ] + + * * * * * + +THE MEETING OF THE WATER-RATEPAYERS. + + ["The New Town Hall in Mare Street, Hackney, was altogether too small + to hold the crowds who came last night (August 1) to protest against + the action of the East London Water Company in cutting down the supply + of water during the past few weeks."--_Evening News._] + +AIR--"_The Meeting of the Waters._" + + There is not in the whole land a meeting so meet + As that of the ratepayers held at Mare Street. + No mare's nest they'd found, no, the Hackneyite heart + Was hot at the new Water Company start! + + It _was_ not that Nature had stinted supply; + That Monopolist pretext appears "all my eye." + 'Twas _not_ summer parching of river and rill, + Oh! no--it was something more troublesome still. + + 'Twas that greed and neglect had combined, it is clear, + To make East End water deficient and dear; + And Monopoly now the supply must improve, + Or more than mere Mare Streets will be on the move. + + Big Monopolist Mammon, how calm could you rest + With your dividends high in the way you love best; + But when water runs short, and diseases increase, + The East End won't leave you and your Water at peace. + + * * * * * + +GULLY-VER.--Mr. BALFOUR'S decision as to not +disturbing the SPEAKER in his uneasy chair was e-gully +awaited, and is, it is hoped, accepted e-gully by all parties. So now, +in his chair, Mr. GULLY will reign re-gully. + + * * * * * + +LATEST FASHION.--Bicycle dinners and suppers have been the +vogue. _Piece de resistance_ is of course "Cold Wheel." This dish is +selected because whatever the number "wheel" is sure to go round. + + * * * * * + +LEAVE OF ABSENCE TO AUGUST-OUT DALY CO. + +AUGUSTIN DALY'S Company has left us just as play-goers had +taken a fancy to _Nancy & Co_. To paraphrase the old refrain-- + + And all their fancy + Dwelt upon NANCY + The play called _Nancy & Co._ + +It went as a lively laughter-raiser should go, with Miss ADA +REHAN excellent in every way; Miss MAXINE ELLIOT +charming; JAMES LEWIS inimitably funny, and Mr. +WORTHING ("quite a Bright'un," as WAGSTAFF says) +capital. That the fun of a farcical comedy should be kept up through +four acts is a tribute to the original work and to the skill of its +adaptor, Mr. _Daly_ himself. _"Vive la Compagnie!" et au revoir!_ + + * * * * * + +A Sportsman's View of It. + + CHAMBERLAIN _vice_ ROSEBERY! What fun! + The change means order, peace, and lots of tin for us. + What are the Derbies twain young Primrose won + To the _New Markets_ many JOE will win for us? + + * * * * * + +"AFTER THE CALL WAS OVER." + +(_Notes for an Additional Chapter to the History of Hullibulgaria._) + +The Deputation did their very best. They were most anxious to make +things smooth. "He whom they desired to obey" would wear an inferior +sort of crown, robes of cotton-backed velvet, trimmed with imitation +fur. He would not give away orders--he would only take them. He would +not command the army, save as an agent acting under direction from the +Master. There is nothing he would not do to secure the goodwill of his +great, his benevolent, his all-powerful Master. + +The Bear was very amiable. The Bear was pleased with the Deputation +and with the nation they represented. And having said this, there was +nothing further for the Bear to say. + +"But, most powerful of powers, most clement of sovereignties," urged +the Deputation, "there is another matter needing decision. How about +the Prince?" + +"What Prince?" softly murmured the Bear, in a tone of curiosity +combined with astonishment. + +"The Prince we wish to serve," explained the Deputation; "the Prince +who desires to serve you." + +"Have you read the Treaty of Berlin?" asked Bruin. "It is a most +excellent agreement, and deserves special attention. Does the name of +any Prince appear therein?" + +"No," replied the Deputation; "and the same painful omission is +observable in the _Almanac de Gotha_. So we would petition on our +knees that the painful omission should be supplied. We ask that the +Prince----" + +"Stop! stop!" cried the Bear. "You are talking of a myth. As Mrs. +GAMP--a well-known Englishwoman--once observed, 'I don't +believe there ain't no sech person.' So think I, and so thinks the +Treaty of Berlin." + +And so the Deputation returned from whence they came, and "the Prince" +continued to "take the waters" without obtaining the cure he desired. +It was disappointing to His Highness, but not to the Editor of the +_Almanac de Gotha_, who found a revised edition of his excellent +periodical was, at least for the present, unnecessary. + + * * * * * + +What title will Baron DE WORMS take? Viscount +CHRYSALIS? to end by becoming Le Duc DE PAPILLON? + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: Br-ce. B-nn-rm-n. Asq-th. + +A PARLIAMENTARY PROSPECT. + +_Sir W. V. H-rc-rt_ (_on Opposition Bench_). "HOW HOT AND +UNCOMFORTABLE THEY MUST BE OVER THERE! SO CROWDED!"] + + * * * * * + +PASSION AND POETRY. + +I was immensely struck, a few days ago, by a passage in a speech +recently delivered by the Archbishop of CANTERBURY, in +which he explained his method of dispelling those passing fits of +ill-temper from which, alas! not even Archbishops are wholly free. "At +times," so ran the report of His Grace's words, "anger or irritation +came upon him, but on the table he kept a book of pleasant poems, +of which he would read a few lines, and the irritation would melt +away." Immediately I determined to follow this noble example. It was +unfortunate that the "book of pleasant poems" was not described more +specifically--could it be the verses of Mr. ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER +BENSON?--but I bought a pocket volume of _Selections from the +Great Poets_, which contained enough variety to suit every case, and +then looked out for an opportunity of trying the Archbishop's plan. + +I had not long to wait. That very evening I came across my uncle +ROBERT at Clapham Junction, in a furious rage at having +just missed the last train to Slowborough, where he lives. At once +I produced my volume, and in slow and emphatic accents I read aloud +some three or four hundred lines from "Paradise Lost." I was about +to add one or two of WORDSWORTH'S sonnets, when I realised +that my uncle had long since disappeared, and that I was surrounded +by a jeering crowd, who evidently supposed me to be a member of the +Salvation Army. + +On the following morning I received a visit from SNIPS, my +tailor. He was impolite enough to suggest a settlement of what he +termed my "small account," a demand, as I politely but plainly assured +him, which was altogether absurd. As he showed distinct symptoms of +irritation at this juncture, I began to read him a scene from _Measure +for Measure_. Strangely enough, this seemed only to irritate him +further, and I understand that he intends to take proceedings against +me in the County Court. This second unaccountable failure of the +Archbishop's remedy greatly surprised and pained me, but I decided to +give it another trial. + +This morning I was playing golf with my friend MACFOOZLE. +At no time a skilful golfer, MACFOOZLE'S form to-day was +worse than ever; whenever he made a bad stroke--and he seldom made +a good one--he indulged in the most violent language. Fortunately +my volume of poetry was in my pocket. When he completely missed his +drive at the second hole, I read him COLERIDGE'S _Dejection_. +When he broke his mashie at the fourth, I treated him with copious +selections from _In Memoriam_. Finally, he got badly bunkered while +playing to the fourteenth hole. For some ten minutes he smote furiously +with his niblick, only raising prodigious clouds of sand as the +result of his efforts. This was clearly a golden opportunity for the +Archbishop's cure, "anger and irritation" but faintly represented +MACFOOZLE'S rage. Seating myself on the edge of the bunker, +I began to read aloud _The Ring and the Book_ with the utmost pathos. +Over what followed I prefer to draw a veil. It is enough to say that a +niblick is a very effective weapon, and that I write these lines in bed. + +When I recover, I really must call at Lambeth for fuller directions. +The archiepiscopal remedy for angry passions does not seem invariably +happy in its results, as far as my experience goes. + + * * * * * + +THE MALT-LIQUOR-TIPPLER'S MAXIM.--_"Nihil ale-ienum a me +pewter":_--"Nothing in the shape of beer comes amiss to me if it's in a +pewter." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: AN EYE TO EFFECT. + +_Little Dives._ "OH, BY THE WAY, BELAIRS--AWFULLY SORRY TO CUT +YOU OUT, YOU KNOW--BUT I'VE JUST PROPOSED TO LADY BARBARA, AND SHE'S +ACCEPTED ME, AND WE'RE TO BE MARRIED IN SEPTEMBER. AND LOOK HERE, OLD +CHAPPIE; I WANT YOU TO BE MY BEST MAN. I WANT TO MAKE A GOOD SHOW AT +THE ALTAR, YOU KNOW!" + + * * * * * + +A Chip to the Champion. + + [Mr. RANJITSINHJI is running Mr. W. G. GRACE very + close in the batting averages.] + +_To the ancient air of "Cheer up Sam!"_ + + BUCK-UP, GRACE! + And don't let your average down! + For "RANJIT" seems running you hard for first place, + To collar your Cricketing Crown! + + * * * * * + +"PROUD O' THE TITLE."--Sir HENRY JAMES to be "Lord +JEAMES." How delighted W. M. THACKERAY would have +been! + + * * * * * + +By a Reasonable Rad. + + _Why_ were we whipped? Rads wrangle round, + But to _the_ cause make scant allusion. + When all's summed up, it will be found, + "Fusion" has won against _Con_-fusion! + + * * * * * + +A SUGGESTION.--In latest _Observer_ is a capital article by +Mr. ESCOTT, whose text is that "smart" Society transplants to +London all Parisian fashions that will bear the process. The title is +"British Boulevardism;" but one still more suggestive of the mixture +would be "John-Bullvardism." Perhaps Mr. ESCOTT may adopt this +and give us another column. + + * * * * * + +ROUNDABOUT READINGS. + +In a biographical sketch of the late Rev. Dr. JULIUS HAWLEY +SEELYE, formerly President of Amherst College, in America, I +read that "Amherst made him President notwithstanding considerable +opposition in the faculty. He soon overcame that, and advanced the +prosperity of the College in the accessions to its faculty and +endowments that he secured. He soon required the students to sign an +agreement to be gentlemen. A violation of the pledge resulted in the +termination of their careers at Amherst." This sounds strange, for it +would appear that if no pledge had been given the students might have +behaved as they liked, without terminating their careers. The idea of +solemnly pledging yourself to be a gentleman is quite colossal. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +The Independent Labour Party is not dead yet. It is forming clubs, +just like any ordinary humdrum party. The _Western Daily Press_ +reports that "At a special meeting held at LEE'S Coffee +Tavern, Bath Bridge, last night, when there were present Mr. W. +S. M. KNIGHT, president of the Bristol South Independent Labour +Party (in the chair), Messrs. A. BROWNE, E. B. HACK, +C. VALE, C. F. BROCKLEHURST, T. POLE, C. +PARKER, and W. PRICE, it was unanimously decided to open +a club for Totterdown and the East Ward of Bedminster in connection +with the Independent Labour Party. Officers and a committee were +appointed, and suitable headquarters for the club were decided upon." +Nothing could be more appropriate. Totterdown suggests decrepitude and +failure (in this case at least), and Bedminster hints at repose and +peace. I offer the suggestion and the hint gratis to the Independent +Labour Windbags. + + * * * * * + +The Loveday Street Canal Bridge (which is, I fancy, in Birmingham) is +evidently a demon bridge with a depraved taste for injuring children. +One day last week it threw JOHN CHICK, aged seven, off and +broke one of his legs. About five hours later, resenting an attempt on +the part of THOMAS WALTON, aged twelve, to climb it, it flung +him off on to the towing-path and injured his back. A few days before +that it had precipitated the same THOMAS WALTON into the +water, whence he was rescued with some difficulty. Evidently this is a +bridge with an ungovernable temper, and the authorities should guard it +efficiently. + + * * * * * + +_The Scotsman_ informs me that "speaking the other day at Haddington, +Mr. BALFOUR glanced scathingly at those politicians of the +baser sort who seek to confuse great issues by dragging to the front +petty or irrelevant questions, and the breath of whose nostrils is +the disturbance of the harmony which should subsist between class +and class of the community." On this two questions arise. The first +is how Mr. BALFOUR, an amiable gentleman, managed to glance +scathingly. To scath, as I learn from the dictionary, means to hurt, +to injure; and, personally, I cannot imagine Mr. BALFOUR +infusing very much venom into a mere glance of his expressive eye. The +second question is how politicians, even of the baser sort, can go on +living when their unfortunate lungs are filled with a disturbance of +harmony. That they should have sufficient strength left to drag to the +front petty or irrelevant questions is nothing short of a marvel, due +allowance being made for metaphors. + + * * * * * + +A golfer is in trouble, and has confided his difficulties to _Golf_. + + Whilst playing on the links at Streetly, on July 16, he drove a ball, + which apparently fell clear, but which for some time could not be + found. After some little hunting it was discovered under a small tuft + of heather in a lark's nest, resting on the back of a young lark, + apparently about four days old, together with three lark's eggs, + which were quite intact. The golfer was obliged, of course, to lift + the ball and place it behind, as it would have been gross cruelty to + have played it from the nest. It was match play. Under the exceptional + circumstances was he bound to lose the hole? The editor replies that + if a player were a stickler for the law and nothing but the law, he, + of course, would be entitled to enforce it against his opponent who + found the ball in the nest. + + * * * * * + + A tee for your ball, you may fashion of sand + (Which is found in the sugar you use for your tea); + Then you spread your legs wide, and you take a firm stand, + And away with a whack goes the ball flying free. + + If it flies like a bird, there's no need to explain; + If not, then the ways of that golfer are dark, + Who attempts, though the effort is doomed to be vain, + To stand, taking tee on the back of a lark. + + * * * * * + +There has been some excitement at Weston-super-Mare. The "Conservative +party organized a reception for the Hon. G. H. JOLLIFFE on his +first appearance in the town since his election for the Wells division. +Arrangements were made for those intending to take part in the +procession to meet the hon. gentleman at the Potteries on his return +from Banwell Horse Show at 7 p.m., but he arrived in the town a quarter +of an hour too early, and scores of enthusiasts were disappointed. +Those, however, who happened to be early enough followed the hon. +gentleman, some on foot and others in cabs, to the Royal Hotel, the +Town Band heading the procession. Mr. JOLLIFFE rode on a coach +drawn by four horses, and was supported by several of the leaders of +the party in the town. Subsequently he addressed those assembled." +But if Mr. JOLLIFFE rode on a coach, why was it necessary to +support him? Moreover, seeing that it was a four-horse affair, it seems +unjust that the leaders should be talked of and that no mention at all +should be made of the wheelers. + + * * * * * + +NANA SAHIB has died once more. + + A Mr. WILLIAM BROWN, who was formerly an officer in the East + India Company's service, and is now residing at San Francisco, gives + the following particulars regarding the fate of NANA SAHIB. + Mr. BROWN says that he was commodore of the Ganges Fleet + in the Indian Mutiny, and was attacked by Sepoys under NANA + SAHIB himself, who was shot in the fighting, and afterwards died + on board Mr. BROWN'S ship. NANA SAHIB'S body was + then cremated, and the ashes were committed to the river. + +Why, oh why, has Mr. BROWN, whom I heartily congratulate on +clearing up the mystery, kept silence for nearly forty years? And, by +the way, which Mr. WILLIAM BROWN is he? There must be a good +many WILLIAM BROWN'S even in San Francisco. Before concluding +that the matter is definitely settled, I should like to hear Mr. +HENRY SMITH, Mr. RICHARD ROBINSON, and Mr. JOHN +JONES on the subject. + + * * * * * + +WHERE NOT TO GO. + + (_Hints by our Pessimist Passenger._) + + _Amsterdam._--Too much sea before you get there. + + _Boulogne._--Not particularly pleasant at low tide. + + _Cologne._--The reverse of fragrant at all times. + + _Dieppe._--The trap of the tripper. + + _Etretat._--No longer what it was. + + _Frankfort._--Only good for a change of money. + + _Geneva._--Dull and dear. + + _Heidelberg._--Too much hill, and too little castle. + + _Interlaken._--The 'appy 'ome of 'ARRY. + + _Jura Pass._--Sure find for BROWN, JONES, and ROBINSON. + + _Karlsbad._--Kill or cure. + + _Lyons._--Apotheosis of silk monotonous. + + _Marseilles._--Good place for musquitoes, bad for all else. + + _Nice._--Too near to Monte Carlo. + + _Ouchy._--Hotel good, but surroundings superfluous. + + _Paris._--Too hot. Theatres closed and wideawakes seen on the + boulevards. + + _Quebec._--Dangerous rival to Bath, Coventry, and Jericho. + + _Rotterdam._--Worthy of its name. + + _Suez._--Not comparable to Cairo. + + _Trouville._--Requires antedating a quarter of a century. + + _Uig._--Skyed and out of reach. + + _Venice._--Vulgarised by the steam launches. + + _Wiesbaden._--Has not yet recovered the loss of its table. + + _Xerez._--Long journey for a glass of sherry. + + _Yokohama._--Not a patch upon Pekin. + + _Zurich._--Alliterative attraction for zomebody. + + * * * * * + +A BONNE BOUCHE. + +_Mr. Wagstaff._ Ah! I have lived many years in the bush. + +_Mrs. Leo Hunter._ How interesting! I suppose you must have become +almost savage! + +_Mr. W. Frequently_, when I couldn't get a 'bus or a cab. + +_Mrs. L. H._ (_utterly astonished_). A 'bus or a cab! in the bush!! + +_Mr. W._ (_pleasantly_). Ah, yes; I was talking of "Shepherd's Bush." +Good morning. + + [_Exit chuckling._ + + [{asterism} _Note by the Bird in the Bush._--In future this + little jest of WAGGY'S will be impossible, as it is proposed + to re-name Shepherd's Bush, and call it Pastoral Park, or All-Askew + Park, or something of the sort.] + + * * * * * + +"SORTES SHAKSPERIANAE."--On the new Postmaster-General:-- + + "Friend post the Duke of NORFOLK." + + _Richard the Third_, Act iv., Scene 4. + + +And we hope his Grace will be "Friend post," and benefit us all. + + * * * * * + +A volume of Reminiscences by HENRY RUSSELL is promised. +Evidently this ought to be a "Cheery, Boys, Cheery" sort of book. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +109, August 10, 1895, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 44809.txt or 44809.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/8/0/44809/ + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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