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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12306 ***
+
+PUNCH,
+
+OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+
+VOL. 99.
+
+
+
+October 4, 1890.
+
+
+
+
+MR. PUNCH'S PRIZE NOVELS.
+
+NEW SERIES.--IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT.
+
+This age has been called an Age of Progress, an Age of Reform, an Age
+of Intellect, an Age of Shams; everything in fact except an Age of
+Prizes. And yet, it is perhaps as an Age of Prizes that it is destined
+to be chiefly remembered. The humble but frantic solver of Acrostics
+has had his turn, the correct expounder of the law of Hard Cases
+has by this time established a complete code of etiquette; the
+doll-dresser, the epigram-maker, the teller of witty stories, the
+calculator who can discover by an instinct the number of letters in
+a given page of print, all have displayed their ingenuity, and have
+been magnificently rewarded by prizes varying in value from the mere
+publication of their names, up to a policy of life insurance, or a
+completely furnished mansion in Peckham Rye. In fact, it has been
+calculated by competent actuaries that taking a generation at about
+thirty-three years, and making every reasonable allowance for errors
+of postage, stoppage _in transitu_, fraudulent bankruptcies and
+unauthorised conversions, 120 per cent. of all persons alive in Great
+Britain and Ireland in any given day of twenty-four hours, must have
+received a prize of some sort.
+
+Novelists, however, have not as yet received a prize of any sort,
+at least as novelists. The reproach is about to be removed. A prize
+of £1000 has been offered for the best novel by the Editor of a
+newspaper. The most distinguished writers are, so it is declared,
+entered for the Competition, but only the name of the prize-winner is
+to be revealed, only the prize-winning novel is to be published. Such
+at least has been the assurance given to all the eminent authors
+by the Editor in question. But _Mr. Punch_ laughs at other people's
+assurances, and by means of powers conferred upon him by himself for
+that purpose, he has been able to obtain access to all the novels
+hitherto sent in, and will now publish a selection of Prize Novels,
+together with the names of their authors, and a few notes of his own,
+wherever the text may seem to require them.
+
+In acting thus _Mr. Punch_ feels, in the true spirit of the newest
+and the Reviewest of Reviews, that he is conferring a favour on the
+authors concerned by allowing them the publicity of these columns.
+Sometimes pruning and condensation may be necessary. The operation
+will be performed as kindly as circumstances permit. It is hardly
+necessary to add that _Mr. Punch_ will _give his own prize in his own
+way, and at his own time_, to the author he may deem the best. And
+herewith _Mr. Punch_ gives a specimen of--
+
+
+NO. I.--ONE MAN IN A COAT.
+
+(_BY_ ARRY O.K. ARRY, _AUTHOR OF "STIGE FICES," "CHEAP WORDS OF A
+CHIPPY CHAPPIE," ETSETTERER._)
+
+    [PREFATORY NOTE.--This Novel was carefully wrapped up in
+    some odd leaves of MARK TWAIN'S _Innocents Abroad_, and was
+    accompanied by a letter in which the author declared that
+    the book was worth £3000, but that "to save any more blooming
+    trouble," he would be willing to take the prize of £1000 by
+    return of post, and say no more about it.--ED.]
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+It was all the Slavey what got us into the mess. Have you ever noticed
+what a way a Slavey has of snuffling and saying, "Lor, Sir, oo'd 'a
+thought it?" on the slightest provocation. She comes into your room
+just as you are about to fill your finest two-handed meerschaum with
+Navy-cut, and looks at you with a far-away look in her eyes, and a
+wisp of hair winding carelessly round the neck of her print dress. You
+murmur something in an insinuating way about that box of Vestas you
+bought last night from the blind man who stands outside "The Old King
+of Prussia" pub round the corner. Then one of her hairpins drops into
+the fireplace, and you rush to pick it up, and she rushes at the same
+moment, and your head goes crack against her head, and you see some
+stars, and a weary kind of sensation comes over you, and just as you
+feel inclined to send for the cat's-meat man down the next court to
+come and fetch you away to the Dogs' Home, in bounces your landlady,
+and with two or three "Well, I nevers!" and "There's an imperent
+'ussey, for you!" nearly bursts the patent non-combustible bootlace
+you lent her last night to hang the brass locket round her neck by.
+
+POTTLE says his landlady's different, but then POTTLE always was
+a rum 'un, and nobody knows what old rag-and-bone shop he gets his
+landladies from. I always get mine only at the best places, and
+advise everybody else to do the same. I mentioned this once to BILL
+MOSER, who looks after the calico department in the big store in the
+High Street, but he only sniffed, and said, "Garne, you don't know
+everythink!" which was rude of him. I might have given him one for
+himself just then, but I didn't. I always was a lamb; but I made up my
+mind that next time I go into the ham-and-beef shop kept by old Mother
+MOSER I'll say something about "'orses from Belgium" that the old lady
+won't like.
+
+Did you ever go into a ham-and-beef shop? It's just like this. I went
+into MOSER'S last week. Just when I got in I tripped over some ribs of
+beef lying in the doorway, and before I had time to say I preferred my
+beef without any boot-blacking, I fell head-first against an immense
+sirloin on the parlour table. Mrs. MOSER called all the men who were
+loafing around, and all the boys and girls, and they carved away at
+the sirloin for five hours without being able to get my head out.
+At last an old gentleman, who was having his dinner there, said he
+couldn't bear whiskers served up as a vegetable with his beef. Then
+they knew they'd got near my face, so they sent away the Coroner and
+pulled me out, and when I got home my coat-tail pockets were full of
+old ham-bones. The boy did that--young varmint! I'll ham-bone him when
+I catch him next!
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+Let me see, what was I after? Oh, yes, I remember. I was going to
+tell you about our Slavey and the pretty pickle she got us into. I'm
+not sure it wasn't POTTLE'S fault. I said to him, just as he was
+wiping his mouth on the back of his hand after his fourth pint of
+shandy-gaff, "POTTLE, my boy," I said, "you're no end of a chap for
+shouting 'Cash forward!' so that all the girls in the shop hear you
+and say to one another, 'My, what a lovely voice that young POTTLE'S
+got!' But you're not much good at helping a pal to order a new coat,
+nor for the matter of that, in helping him to try it on." But POTTLE
+only hooked up his nose and looked scornful. Well, when the coat came
+home the Slavey brought it up, and put it on my best three-legged
+chair, and then flung out of the room with a toss of her head, as much
+as to say, "'Ere's extravagance!" First I looked at the coat, and then
+the coat seemed to look at me. Then I lifted it up and put it down
+again, and sent out for three-ha'porth of gin. Then I tackled the
+blooming thing again. One arm went in with a ten-horse power shove.
+Next I tried the other. After no end of fumbling I found the sleeve.
+"In you go!" I said to my arm, and in he went, only it happened to be
+the breast-pocket. I jammed, the pocket creaked, but I jammed hardest,
+and in went my fist, and out went the pocket.
+
+Then I sat down, tired and sad, and the lodging-house cat came in and
+lapped up the milk for my tea, and MOSER'S bull-dog just looked me
+up, and went off with the left leg of my trousers, and the landlady's
+little boy peeped round the door and cried, "Oh, Mar, the poor
+gentleman's red in the face--I'm sure he's on fire!" And the local
+fire-brigade was called up, and they pumped on me for ten minutes, and
+then wrote "Inextinguishable" in their note-books, and went home; and
+all the time I couldn't move, because my arms were stuck tight in a
+coat two sizes too small for me.
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+The Slavey managed--
+
+    [No, thank you. No more.--ED.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: _His Reverence_. "DINNER, 7:30. I'LL GIVE YOU A QUARTER
+OF AN HOUR'S GRACE!"
+
+_His Irreverence_. "THEN COMMENCE AT 7:30, AND I'LL BE THERE AT
+7:45!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FAVOURITE TOOL OF RAILWAY COMPANIES.--A Screw-Driver!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "C'EST MAGNIFIQUE! MAIS--"
+
+_Mr. Bull_ (_Paymaster_). "WELL, WHAT DO YOU THINK OF IT?"
+
+_Mr. Punch_ (_Umpire-in Chief_). "FINE RIDER--FINE HORSE! BUT--AS A
+CAVALRY SOLDIER--HAS TO LEARN HIS BUSINESS!"]
+
+    ["How then about the British Cavalry of September, 1890? A
+    spectator who has taken part in modern regular war, and has
+    watched the manoeuvres, said one day to me when I accosted
+    him, in an apologetic tone, 'I have hitherto done your Army
+    injustice, I will not do so again; I had no idea how well
+    your officers and your troopers ride,--they are very fine
+    horsemen.' There he stopped; I waited for more, but he had
+    ended; his silence was a crushing criticism, unintentionally
+    too severe, but very true.... I assert, therefore, that at
+    this moment, our Cavalry is inefficient, and not prepared
+    for war."--_The Times Military Correspondent_.]
+
+AIR--"_TALLY-HO!_" (_FROM THE BALLIOL SONG-BOOK._)
+
+  "Of all the recreations with which mortal man is blest"
+  (Says BALLIOL's Song) "fox-hunting still is pleasantest and best."
+  A Briton in the saddle is a picture, and our pride,
+  In scarlet or in uniform at least our lads can _ride_.
+    Away, away they go,
+    With a tally, tally-ho!
+  With a tally, tally, tally, tally, tally, tally-ho!
+
+  But riding, for our Cavalry, is, after all, not all.
+  To lead the field, to leap a fence, to bravely face a fall,
+  Are well enough. And first-rate stuff from the hunting-field may come,
+  But something more is wanted when Bellona beats her drum,
+    And calls our lads to go,
+    With a rally, rally-ho! &c.
+
+  Good men and rattling horses are not all that England needs;
+  She wants sound knowledge in the men, and training in the steeds.
+  Scouting and reconnaissance are not needed for the fox,
+  Nor "leading in big masses" for the furious final shocks,
+    When away the troopers go,
+    With a rally, rally, ho! &c.
+
+  But when a squadron charges on the real field of war,
+  Courage and a good seat alone will not go very far;
+  Our lads must "know their business," and their officers must "lead,"
+  Not with cross-country dash alone, but skill and prudent heed,
+    When away the troopers go,
+    With a rally, rally, ho! &c.
+
+  War's field will test the Cavalry, or clad in blue or red;
+  In all things they must "thorough" be, as well as thorough-bred.
+  "Heavy" or "light," they'll have to _fight_; not such mad, headlong fray,
+  As marked for fame with pride--and shame--that Balaklava day,
+    When away our lads did go,
+    With a rally, rally, ho! &c.
+
+  Eh? "Inefficient," Mr. BULL, "and not prepared for war?"
+  That judgment, if 'tis _near_ the truth, on patriot souls must jar.
+  And _Mr. Punch_ (Umpire-in-Chief) to JOHN (Paymaster), cries,
+  "You'll have to test the truth of this before the need arise
+    For our lads away to go.
+    With a rally, rally-ho!" &c
+
+  And since that Soldier's incomplete for _Duty_ unprepared,
+  Although he's game to dare the worst that ever Briton dared,
+  To supplement our trooper's skill in saddle, pluck and dash,
+  You must have more manoeuvres, JOHN, and--if needs be,--_more cash!_
+    Then away away we'll go
+    With a tally rally-ho!
+  And never be afraid to face the strongest, fiercest foe.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: JOURNALISM IN FRANCE. JOURNALISM IN ENGLAND. (A
+Contrast.)]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+HAD HE SUCCEEDED!
+
+(_A POSSIBLE PAGE IN FRENCH HISTORY THAT PROBABLY WILL NEVER BE
+WRITTEN._)
+
+The General-President had been established at the Elysée for
+some three months, when his _aides-de-camp_ found their labours
+considerably increased. At all hours of the day and night they were
+called up to receive persons who desired an interview with their chief
+and master. As they had received strict orders from His Highness
+never to appear in anything but full uniform (cloth of gold tunics,
+silver-tissue trousers, and belts and epaulettes of diamonds) they
+spent most of their time in changing their costume.
+
+"I am here to see anyone and everyone," said His Highness; "but I look
+to you, Gentlemen of the Ring, I should say Household, to see that I
+am disturbed by only those who have the right of _entrée_. And now,
+_houp-là!_ You can go."
+
+Thus dismissed, the unfortunate _aides-de-camp_ could but bow,
+and retire in silence. But, though they gave no utterance to their
+thoughts, their reflections were of a painful character. They felt
+what with five reviews a day, to say nothing of what might be termed
+scenes in the circle (attendances at the Bois, dances at the Hôtel de
+Ville, and the like), their entire exhaustion was only a question of
+weeks, or even days.
+
+One morning the General-President, weary of interviews, was about to
+retire into his _salle-à-manger_, there to discuss the twenty-five
+courses of his simple _déjeuner à la fourchette_, when he was stopped
+by a person in a garb more remarkable for its eccentricity than its
+richness. This person wore a coat with tails a yard long, enormous
+boots, a battered hat, and a red wig. A close observer would have
+doubted whether his nose was real or artificial. The strangely-garbed
+intruder bowed grotesquely.
+
+"What do you want with me?" asked the General-President, sharply. "Do
+you not know I am busy?"
+
+"Not too busy to see me," retorted the unwelcome guest, striking up a
+lively tune upon a banjo which he had concealed about his person while
+passing the Palace Guard, but which he now produced. "I pray you step
+with me a measure."
+
+Thus courteously invited, His Highness could but comply, and for some
+ten minutes host and guest indulged in a breakdown.
+
+"And now, what do you want with me?" asked the General-President when
+the dance had been brought to a satisfactory conclusion.
+
+"My reward," was the prompt reply.
+
+"Reward!" echoed His Highness. "Why, my good friend, I have refused
+a Royal Duke, an Imperial Prince, a Powerful Order, and any number of
+individuals, who have made a like demand."
+
+"Ah! but they did not do so much for you as I did."
+
+"Well, I don't know," returned the General-President, "but they parted
+with their gold pretty freely."
+
+"Gold!" retorted the visitor, contemptuously, "I gave you more
+than gold. From me you had notes. Where would you have been without
+my songs?" He took off his false nose, and thus enabled the
+General-President to recognise the "Pride of the Music Halls!"
+
+"You will find I am not ungrateful," said the Chief of the State, with
+difficulty suppressing his emotion.
+
+His Highness was as good as his word. The next night at the _Café
+des Ambassadeurs_ there was a novel attraction. An old favourite was
+described in the _affiches_ as _le Due de Nouveau-Cirque_.
+
+The reception that old favourite received in the course of the
+evening was fairly, but not too cordial. But enthusiasm and hilarity
+reached fever-heat when, on turning his face from them, the audience
+discovered that their droll was wearing (in a somewhat grotesque
+fashion) the _grand cordon_ of the Legion of Honour on his back! Then
+it was felt that France _must_ be safe in the hands of a man whose
+sense of the fitness of things rivalled the taste of the pig whose
+soul soared above the charm of pearls!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+SCOTT-FREE; OR, RAVENSWOOD-NOTES WILD.
+
+ACT I.--A grand old Castle in the distance, with foreground of rude
+and rugged rocks. Around the rugged rocks a quaint funeral service.
+HENRY IRVING, "the Master" not only of _Ravenswood_, but the art of
+acting (as instanced by a score of fine impersonations), flouts the
+veteran comedian, HOWE; and, Howe attired? He is in some strange
+garb as a nondescript parson. Then "Master" (as the _Sporting Times_
+would irreverently speak of him) soliloquises over Master's father's
+coffin. Arrival of _Sir William Ashton_. Row and flashing of steel
+in torchlight. Appearance of one lovely beyond compare--ELLEN TERRY,
+otherwise _Lucy Ashton_; graceful as a Swan. Swan and Edgar. Curtain.
+
+[Illustration: MR. IRVING MAKING HIS GREAT HIT. THE BULL'S-EYE!
+
+After such a hit,--"there is no cause for fear now!"]
+
+ACT II.--Library and Armoury. Convenient swords and loaded
+blunderbusses. _Lord Keeper Ashton_ appears. Quite right that there
+should be the Keeper present, in view of _Lucy_ subsequently going
+mad. Young _Henry Ashton_, the youth GORDON CRAIG, a lad of promise,
+and performance, has the entire stage to himself for full two minutes,
+to show what he can do with a speech descriptive of some pictures.
+Master alone with Keeper, suggests duel. Why arms in Library, unless
+duel? Fight about to commence according to Queensberry rules, when
+Master sees portrait. Whose? _Lucy's_? "No," says Master; "not to
+be taken in. I know LUCY'S picture; it was done by WARD." The Keeper
+explains that this is a portrait, not of the author of _The History of
+Two Parliaments_, and _Fleecing Gideon_, but of his daughter _Lucy_,
+which has never yet been seen in any exhibition or loan collection.
+"Oho," says Master, "then I won't fight a chap who has a daughter
+like that." Ha! Mad bull "heard without"--one of the "herd
+without,"--Master picks up blunderbuss, no blunder, makes a hit and
+saves a miss; i.e., _Lucy_. What shall he have who kills the bull
+with a bull 'it? Why, a tent at Cowshot, near Bisley.
+
+_Next Scene_.--Wolf's Crag. Grand picture--thunder--music--Dr.
+MACKENZIE--Mr. MACINTOSH--"the two MACS"--doing excellent work
+in orchestra, and on stage--storm--Miss MARRIOTT admirable as old
+Witch--red light in fire-grate--blank verse by MERIVALE, and on we
+go to
+
+ACT III.--A Scene never to be forgotten--the Mermaiden's Well
+(quite well, thank you), by HAWES CRAVEN, henceforth to be HAWES
+McCRAVENSWOOD. Pines, heather, sunlight, and two picturesque lovers,
+Master and Miss, exchanging vows. Master gloomy, Miss lively. Miss
+promises to become Missus. Enter Master's future Modern Mother-in-law.
+Intended to be vindictive, but really a comfortable and comely body.
+Might be _Mrs. McBouncer_ in _McBox and McCox_. Naturally enough, off
+goes Master to France.
+
+[Illustration: What Mr. Mackintosh ought to have done. "Balancing the
+Feather." An entertainment on the sands.]
+
+ACT IV.--Another splendid scene. Magnificently attired, _Hayston
+of Bucklaw_ attempts to raise a laugh. Success. _Mrs. Mac Bouncer_
+coerces _Lucy_ in white satin to sign the fatal contract that will
+settle Master. Ah! that awful laugh--far more tragic than the one
+secured by _Bucklaw_! It is _Lucy_ going mad! She has already
+shown signs of incipient insanity by calling Mr. HOWE, otherwise
+_Bide-the-Bent_, a "holy Father,"--much to that excellent comedian's
+surprised content. Contract signed. Return of "Master." _Dénoûment_
+must be seen to be appreciated. Here McMERIVALE bids Sir WALTER
+good-bye, and finishes in his own way. Last scene of all, and the
+loveliest. The earliest rays of the sun shining on the advancing tide!
+_Caleb_ picks up all that is left of "Master"--a feather! With Miss
+ELLEN, Master HENRY, McMARRIOTT, McMERIVALE, MACKINTOSH, MACKENZIE,
+and HAWES McCRAVENSWOOD, here is a success which the advancing tide of
+popular favour will float till Easter or longer, and will then leave a
+new feather in the cap of Master.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+AN EMPEROR'S WILL.
+
+    [The German Emperor is an accomplished Sportsman. He appears
+    to be able to bring down his birds at will.--_Daily News_.]
+
+  Would you like to be an Emperor, and wear a golden crown,
+    With fifty different uniforms for every single day;
+  To make the nations shudder with the semblance of a frown,
+    And, if BISMARCKS should oppose you, just to order them away?
+              With your actions autocratic,
+              And your poses so dramatic;
+  Yours the honour and the glory, while the country pays the bill,
+              With your shouting sempiternal,
+              And your Grandmamma a Colonel,
+  And the power--which is best of all--to shoot your birds by will.
+
+  Then the joy of gallopading with a helmet and a sword,
+    While the thunder of your cannons wakes the echoes from afar.
+  And if, while you're in Germany, you happen to be bored,
+    Why, you rush away to Russia, and you call upon the CZAR.
+              With your wordy perorations,
+              And your peaceful proclamations,
+  While you grind the nation's manhood in your military mill.
+              And whenever skies look pleasant
+              Out you go and shoot a pheasant,
+  Or as many as you want to, with your double-barrelled will.
+
+  You can always flout your father, too--he's dead, but never mind;
+    He and all who dream as he did are much better in their graves.
+  And you cross the sea to Osborne, and, if Grandmamma be kind,
+    You become a British Admiral, and help to rule the waves;
+              With Jack Tars to say "Ay, Ay, Sir!"
+              To this nautical young Kaiser,
+  Who is like the waves he sails on, since he never can be still.
+              Who to every other blessing
+              Adds the proud one of possessing
+  A gun-replacing, bird-destroying, game-bag-filling will.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"HATS OFF!"--MR. EDWARD CROSSLEY, M.P., is to be congratulated on
+a narrow escape, according to the report in the _Times_ last week.
+During service in the Free Church at Brodick, some portion of the
+ceiling gave way, Mr. CROSSLEY was covered with plaster--better to be
+covered with plaster before than after an accident--and "_his hat was
+cut to pieces_." From which it is to be inferred that "hats are much
+worn" during Divine service in the Free Church, as in the Synagogue.
+And so no fanatic can be admitted who has "a tile off." How fortunate
+for Mr. E. CROSSLEY that this ancient custom of the Hebrews is still
+observed in the Free Kirk. Since then Mr. CROSSLEY has bought a new
+tile, and is, therefore, perfectly re-covered.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+[Illustration: Reviewing.]
+
+The Baron says that he has scarcely been able to get through the first
+morning of _The Last Days of Palmyra_, which story, so far, reminds
+him--it being the fashion just now to mention Cardinal NEWMAN's
+works--of the latter's _Callista_. And _à propos_ of _Callista_ let me
+refer my readers to one of the best written articles on the Cardinal
+that I have seen. It is to be found in _Good Words_ for October, and
+is by Mr. R.H. HUTTON. The Baron is coaching himself up for a visit
+to the Lyceum to see _Ravenswood_, of which, on all hands, he hears
+so much that is good. What a delightful scene where _Caleb_ steals
+the wild-fowl from the spit, and the subsequent one, where _Dame
+Lightbody_ cuffs the astonished little bairn's head! "As fresh to me,"
+protests the Baron, "laughing in my chair, as I have been doing but
+a minute ago, as it was when I read it, the Council and Kirk-session
+only know how long ago!" And this farcical scene was considered so
+"grotesquely and absurdly extravagant" by Sir WALTER's contemporary
+critics (peace be to their hashes! Who _were_ they? What were their
+names? Who cares?) that the great novelist actually explains how the
+incident was founded on one in real life.
+
+Now to my books. Gadzooks, what's here? Another volume of _Obiter
+Dicta?_ By one author this time, for if my memory fails me not, the
+previous little book was writ by two scribes. Well, no matter--or
+rather lots of matter--and by AUGUSTINE BIRRELL, who represents
+_Obiter_ and _Dicta_ too. With an unclassical false quantity anyone
+who so chooses to unscholarise himself, can speak of him as the
+_O'Biter_, so sharp and pungent are some of his remarks. Ah! here is
+something on LAMB. For me, quoth the Baron, LAMB is always in season,
+serve up the dish with what trimmings you may, but, if you please, no
+sauce. Size and shape are the only things against friend _Obiter_.
+It is not what this sort of book ought to be, portable and potable,
+like the craftily qualified contents of a pocket-flask, refreshing on
+a tedious journey. Had _Obiter_ been the size of either _The Handy
+Volume Shakspeare_, or of Messrs. ROUTLEDGE'S Redbacks--both the
+Baron's prime favourites--the Baron would have been able to dip
+into it more frequently, as he would into that same pocket-flask
+aforementioned.
+
+"Next, please!" BLACKIE'S _Modern Cyclopedia_. Vol. VII., so we're
+getting along. I'll just cast my eye over it; one eye, not two, says
+the Baron, out of compliment to the Cyclops. This Volume deals with
+the letters "P," "R," "S," and any person wishing to master a few
+really interesting subjects for dinner conversation will read and
+learn up all about Procyon, Pizemysi, and Pyrheliometer, Quotelet,
+Quintal, and Quito, Regulus, Ramazan, Rheumatism, Rhynchops,
+Rum-Shrub, and Rupar, Samoyedes, Semiquaver, Sahjehanpur, Silket,
+Sinter, and Size. When it is known what a gay conversationalist he is,
+he may induce some one to put him up for a cheery Club, where he will
+be Blackie-balled. Still, by studying the Cyclopedia carefully, with a
+view to being ready with words for charades and dumb-crambo during the
+festive Christmas-tide, he may once again achieve a certain amount of
+popularity, on which, as on fresh laurels, he had better retire.
+
+"Next, please!" _How Stanley Wrote his Darkest Africa_. By Mr. E.
+MARSTON. A most interesting little book, published by SAMPSON LOW
+& Co., illustrated with excellent photographs, and with a couple of
+light easy sketches, by, I suppose, the Author, which makes the Baron
+regret that he didn't do more of them. "Buy it," says the Baron.
+The Baron recommends the perusal of this little book, if only to
+understand the full meaning of the old proverbial expression "Going on
+a wild-goose chase." The author is a wonderfully rapid-act traveller.
+He apparently can "run" round every principal city in Europe and see
+everything that's worth seeing in it in about an hour and a half at
+most. In this manner, and by not comprehending a word of the language
+wherever he is, or at all events only a very few of the words, he
+continues to pick up much curious information which probably would be
+novel to slower coaches than himself.
+
+Interesting account of JOSEF ISRAELS in the _Magazine of Art_; but his
+portrait makes him look gigantic, which JOSEF is in Art, but not in
+stature. Those who "know not JOSEF," if any such there be, will learn
+much about him, and desire to know more. "Baroness," says the Baron,
+"you are right: let Hostesses and all dinner-givers read 'Some Humours
+of the Cuisine' in _The Woman's World_." The parodies of the style
+of Mr. PATER, and of a translation of a Tolstoian Romance in _The
+Cornhill Magazine_, are capital. In the same number, "Farmhouse Notes"
+are to The Baron like the Rule of Three in the ancient rhyme to the
+youthful student,--"it puzzles _me_." It includes a few anecdotes of
+some Farm'ous Persons; so perhaps the title is a crypto-punnygraph.
+
+All Etonians should possess _The English Illustrated Magazine_
+(MACMILLAN'S), 1889-90, for the sake of the series of papers and
+the pictures of Eton College. There is also an interesting paper on
+the Beefsteak Room at the Lyceum by FREDERICK HAWKINS. Delightful
+Beefsteak Room! What pleasant little suppers--But no matter--my supper
+time is past--"Too late, too late, you cannot enter here," ought
+to be the warning inscribed over every Club or other supper-room,
+addressed chiefly to those who are of the Middle Ages, as is the
+mediæval
+
+BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FASHIONS IN PHYSIC.
+
+    [The President of the British Pharmaceutical Conference lately
+    drew attention to the prevalence of fashion in medicine.]
+
+  A fashion in physic, like fashions in frills:
+  The doctors at one time are mad upon pills;
+  And crystalline principles now have their day,
+  Where alkaloids once held an absolute sway.
+  The drugs of old times might be good, but it's true,
+  We discard them in favour of those that are new.
+
+  The salts and the senna have vanished, we fear,
+  As the poet has said, like the snows of last year;
+  And where is the mixture in boyhood we quaff'd,
+  That was known by the ominous name of Black Draught?
+  While Gregory's Powder has gone, we are told,
+  To the limbo of drugs that are worn out and old.
+
+  New fads and new fancies are reigning supreme,
+  And calomel one day will be but a dream;
+  While folks have asserted a chemist might toil
+  Through his shelves, and find out he had no castor oil;
+  While as to Infusions, they've long taken wings,
+  And they'd think you quite mad for prescribing such things.
+
+  The fashion to-day is a tincture so strong,
+  That, if dosing yourself, you are sure to go wrong.
+  What men learnt in the past they say brings them no pelf,
+  And the well-tried old remedies rest on the shelf.
+  But the patient may haply exclaim, "Don't be rash,
+  Lest your new-fangled physic should settle my hash!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"TWINKLE, TWINKLE, LITTLE STAR!"--Professor JOHN TYNDALL wrote to T.W.
+RUSSELL last week commencing:--"Here, in the Alps, at the height of
+more than 7,000 feet above the sea, have I read your letter to the
+_Times_ on 'the War in Tipperary.'" Prodigious! "7,000 feet" up in the
+air. "How's that for high?" as the Americans say. How misty his views
+must be in this cloudland--and that the Professor's writing should be
+above the heads of the people, goes without saying.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration]
+
+FEMALE ATHLETICISM.--If Ladies go in for "the gloves," not as
+formerly by the coward's blow on the lips of a sleeping victim--often
+uncommonly wide-awake--the noble art of self-defence can be taught
+under the head of "Millin-ery."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"CHANGE OF AIR--WANTED," by a party much broken up, a new tune to
+replace the "_Boulanger March_!" If the new tune cannot be found, we
+can at least suggest a change of title for the old one. So, instead
+of "_En revenant de la Revue_," let it be "_En rêvant à la Revue_."
+It should commence brilliantly, then intermediate variations, in which
+sharps and flats would play a considerable part, and, finally, after a
+chromatic scale, down not up, of accidentals, it should finish in the
+minor _rallentando diminuendo_, and end like the comic overture (whose
+we forget--HAYDN'S?), where all the performers sneak off, and the
+conductor is left alone in his glory.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The British Fire Brigade representatives took with them a dog, to be
+presented to President CARNOT. Why only one dog? Two fire-dogs are to
+be found on the hearth of every old French Château. Why only half do
+it?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: ADDING INSULT TO INJURY.
+
+_Brown_ (_whose prize St. Bernard has just snatched a fillet of Veal
+from a Butcher's slab_). "HI! COME AND TAKE YOUR CONFOUNDED MEAT AWAY
+FROM HIM! _HE'S EATING THE SKEWERS!_"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"DEATH AND HIS BROTHER SLEEP."
+
+_QUEEN MAB_.
+
+    [Major MARINDIN, in his Report to the Board of Trade on
+    the railway collision at Eastleigh, attributes it to the
+    engine-driver and stoker having "failed to keep a proper
+    look-out." His opinion is, that both men were "asleep, or
+    nearly so," owing to having been on duty for sixteen hours
+    and a-half. "He expresses himself in very strong terms on
+    the great danger to the public of working engine-drivers and
+    firemen for too great a number of hours."--_Daily Chronicle_.]
+
+  _Who_ is in charge of the clattering train?
+  The axles creak, and the couplings strain.
+  Ten minutes behind at the Junction. Yes!
+  And we're twenty now to the bad--no less!
+  We must make it up on our flight to town.
+  Clatter and crash! That's the last train down,
+  Flashing by with a steamy trail.
+  Pile on the fuel! We must not fail.
+  At every mile we a minute must gain!
+  _Who_ is in charge of the clattering train?
+
+  Why, flesh and blood, as a matter of course!
+  You may talk of iron, and prate of force;
+  But, after all, and do what you can,
+  The best--and cheapest--machine is Man!
+  Wealth knows it well, and the hucksters feel
+  'Tis safer to trust them to sinew than steel.
+  With a bit of brain, and a conscience, behind,
+  Muscle works better than steam or wind.
+  Better, and longer, and harder all round;
+  And cheap, so cheap! Men superabound
+  Men stalwart, vigilant, patient, bold;
+  The stokehole's heat and the crow's-nest's cold,
+  The choking dusk of the noisome mine,
+  The northern blast o'er the beating brine,
+  With dogged valour they coolly brave;
+  So on rattling rail, or on wind-scourged wave,
+  At engine lever, at furnace front,
+  Or steersman's wheel, _they_ must bear the brunt
+  Of lonely vigil or lengthened strain.
+  _Man_ is in charge of the thundering train!
+
+  Man, in the shape of a modest chap
+  In fustian trousers and greasy cap;
+  A trifle stolid, and something gruff,
+  Yet, though unpolished, of sturdy stuff.
+  With grave grey eyes, and a knitted brow,
+  The glare of sun and the gleam of snow
+  Those eyes have stared on this many a year.
+  The crow's-feet gather in mazes queer
+  About their corners most apt to choke
+  With grime of fuel and fume of smoke.
+  Little to tickle the artist taste--
+  An oil-can, a fist-full of "cotton waste,"
+  The lever's click and the furnace gleam,
+  And the mingled odour of oil and steam;
+  These are the matters that fill the brain
+  Of the Man in charge of the clattering train.
+
+  Only a Man, but away at his back,
+  In a dozen ears, on the steely track,
+  A hundred passengers place their trust
+  In this fellow of fustian, grease, and dust.
+  They cheerily chat, or they calmly sleep,
+  Sure that the driver _his_ watch will keep
+  On the night-dark track, that he will not fail.
+  So the thud, thud, thud of wheel upon rail
+  The hiss of steam-spurts athwart the dark.
+  Lull them to confident drowsiness. Hark!
+
+  What is that sound? 'Tis the stertorous breath
+  Of a slumbering man,--and it smacks of death!
+  Full sixteen hours of continuous toil
+  Midst the fume of sulphur, the reek of oil,
+  Have told their tale on the man's tired brain,
+  And Death is in charge of the clattering train!
+
+  Sleep--Death's brother, as poets deem,
+  Stealeth soft to his side; a dream
+  Of home and rest on his spirit creeps,
+  That wearied man, as the engine leaps,
+  Throbbing, swaying along the line;
+  Those poppy-fingers his head incline
+  Lower, lower, in slumber's trance;
+  The shadows fleet, and the gas-gleams dance
+  Faster, faster in mazy flight,
+  As the engine flashes across the night.
+  Mortal muscle and human nerve
+  Cheap to purchase, and stout to serve.
+  Strained _too_ fiercely will faint and swerve.
+  Over-weighted, and underpaid,
+  This human tool of exploiting Trade,
+  Though tougher than leather, tenser than steel.
+  Fails at last, for his senses reel,
+  His nerves collapse, and, with sleep-sealed eyes,
+  Prone and helpless a log he lies!
+  A hundred hearts beat placidly on,
+  Unwitting they that their warder's gone;
+  A hundred lips are babbling blithe,
+  Some seconds hence they in pain may writhe.
+  For the pace is hot, and the points are near,
+  And Sleep hath deadened the driver's ear;
+  And signals flash through the night in vain.
+  Death is in charge of the clattering train!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"WHAT TO DO WITH OUR GIRLS." (_Paterfamilias's answer_.)--Give them
+away! (Matrimonially, of course.)
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "DEATH AND HIS BROTHER SLEEP."--Shelley.
+
+(_See Major Marindin's Report to the Board of Trade on the Railway
+Collision near Eastleigh._)]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "THE CAUSE" AND THE EFFECT.
+
+Mr. ---- moved, "That this Mass-meeting pledges itself to support the
+efforts of Messrs. ---- & Co.'s men, by joining the Union, and further
+pledges itself to take all legal efforts to prevent anyone obtaining a
+job there so long as the dispute lasts." The resolution was carried by
+acclamation.
+
+_Coroner_. How is it the child's father cannot get work? _Witness_.
+Because he has no Union card. _Coroner_. Then if men do not belong
+to the different Trades Unions they must starve.--_Coroner's Inquest
+Report_.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ALL VERY VINE!
+
+(_WITH ACKNOWLEDGMENTS TO THE WHITE KNIGHT IN "THROUGH THE
+LOOKING-GLASS."_)
+
+    ["One of the most interesting exhibits (at the Royal
+    Horticultural Society's Grape and Dahlia Show at Chiswick)
+    were clusters of grapes with the scent and taste of
+    strawberries and raspberries, as grown in Transatlantic
+    hothouses."--_Daily Paper_.]
+
+  I'll tell thee everything I can;
+    There's little to relate:
+  I met a simple citizen
+    Of some "United State."
+  "Who are you, simple man?" I said,
+    "And how is it you live?"
+  And his answer seemed quite 'cute from one
+    So shy and sensitive.
+
+  He said, "I make electric cats
+    That prowl upon the leads,
+  To prey upon the brutes who raise
+    Mad music o'er our heads.
+  I also make all sorts of things
+    Which much convenience give;
+  In fact, I'm an inventor spry,
+    And that is how I live.
+
+  "And I am thinking of a plan
+    For artificial hens,
+  And automatic dairy-maids,
+    And self-propelling pens."
+  "Such things are stale," I made reply,
+    "They're old, and flat, and thin.
+  Tell me the last thing in your pate,
+    Or I will cave it in!"
+
+  His accents mild took up the tale:
+    He said, "I've tried to make
+  A sirloin out of turnips, and
+    A vegetable steak."
+  I shook him well, from side to side,
+    To stimulate his brain;
+  "You've got some newer dodge," I cried,
+    "And that you must explain."
+
+  He said, "I always willingly
+    Do anything to please.
+  What do you say to growing grapes
+    That taste like strawberr-ees!
+  They're showing off at Chiswick now,
+    As I a sinner am,
+  Some big black Hamburgs which, when pressed,
+    Taste just like raspberry jam."
+
+  So now whene'er I drink a glass
+    Of wine that seems like rum,
+  Or peel myself an orange that
+    Reminds me of a plum,
+  Or if I come across a peach
+    With flavour like a bilberry,
+  I weep, for it reminds me so
+  Of Chiswick's Grape and Dahlia Show,
+  And that 'cute man I used to know,
+  Who could at will transform a sloe
+  Into a thing with the aro-
+  -ma of all fruits known here below,
+    From apricot to mulberry.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NATIVE GROWTH.
+
+According to a case about oysters--instead of a case, it ought to have
+been a barrel--heard before Mr. Alderman WILKIN,--and as the case may
+be still _sub-Aldermanice_, we have nothing to say as to its merits
+or demerits,--it appears, that in September, 1889, the price of Royal
+Whitstable Natives was 14s. per 100; i.e., 1s. 3d. for a baker's dozen
+of thirteen. Though why a baker should be allowed "a little one in,"
+be it oysters or anything else, only Heaven and the erudite Editor of
+_Notes and Queries_ know. But, without further allusion to the baker,
+who has just dropped in accidentally as he did into the conversation
+between _Mrs. Bardell_ and _Mrs. Cluppins_, when _Sam Weller_
+joined in, and they all "got a talking," it is enough to make any
+oyster-lover's mouth water--no doubt the worthy Alderman's did
+water,--did water "like WILKIN!"--to hear that while everybody,
+including the worthy Alderman aforesaid, was paying 2s. 6d., and 3s.,
+and even 3s. 6d. for real Natives, some people were gratifying their
+molluscous tastes at the small charge of One Shilling and Threepence
+for thirteen, or were getting six oysters and a half--the half be
+demm'd--for sixpence. Long time is it since we paid 1s. 3d. for Real
+Royal Natives. They may have left Whitstable at that price, but they
+never came to our Wits' Table at anything like that figure. Still,
+to the truly Christian mind it is pleasant, if not consoling, to know
+that some of our fellow-creatures, not generally so well-favoured
+as ourselves, should have been able to take advantage of the most
+favoured Native clause in the Oyster Season of 1889.
+
+*** By the way, in answer to a Correspondent, who signs himself "AN
+ARTFUL DREDGER, WHO WISHES TO LIVE OUT OF TOWN," we beg to inform him
+that "Beds" is _not_ a county specially celebrated for oysters.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BREAKING A _RECORD_ ON A WHEEL!
+
+  Break, break, break!
+    On thy "Safety" swift, oh, "crack!"
+  And I would that my tongue could utter
+    My thoughts on the cyclist's track.
+
+  Oh, well for MECREDY, the "bhoy,"
+    That "records" for him won't stay;
+  And well for OSMOND and WOOD
+    That they break them every day.
+
+  And the "Safeties" still improve,
+    And their riders develope more skill;
+  And it's oh! for the records of yesterday!
+    To-morrow they'll all be nil!
+
+  Break! break! break!
+    On thy wheels, oh, S.B.C.!
+  But the grace of KEITH FALCONER, CORTIS, and KEEN,
+    Will they ever come back to me?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHIC PEST.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LOST HAIRS-AT-LAW.
+
+"SEQUEL to a Breach of Promise Case" is the heading to a paragraph
+in the _Daily Telegraph_, recording how _Turner_ v. _Avant_ was heard
+before Mr. Commissioner KERR, who adjourned the case for three weeks,
+because, as Mr. AGABEG, the Counsel for the Plaintiff, observed,
+without agabegging the question, they couldn't get any information
+essential to the proceedings as to the whereabouts of the Miss HAIRS,
+who, after failing in her action against Sir GEORGE ELLIOTT, M.P.,
+gave up minding her own business, which she sold, and retired to the
+Continent; and Plaintiffs also wanted to know the present address of
+a certain, or uncertain, Mr. HOLLAND, somewhile Secretary to the Avant
+Company. Odd this. Not find Hairs in September! Cry "_En Avant_!"
+and let loose the harriers!--a suggestion that might have been
+appropriately made by the Commissioner whose name alone, with respect
+be it said, should qualify him for the Chief Magistracy in the Isle of
+Dogs. In the meantime the Plaintiffs have three weeks' adjournment in
+order to search the maps and find HOLLAND.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+TITLED MONTHS.--In the list given by the _Figaro_ of those present at
+Cardinal LAVIGERIE'S great anti-slavery function at Saint Sulpice was
+"_un ancien ministre plénipotentiare le Baron d'Avril._" What a set
+of new titles this suggests for any creation, of new Peers in England!
+Duke of DECEMBER! Earl of FEBRUARY! Of course, the nearest title
+to Baron D'AVRIL with us is the Earl of MARCH. The Marquis of MAY
+sounds nice; Lord AUGUST, Baron JULY; and, should a certain eminent
+ecclesiastical lawyer ever become a Law Lord, there will be yet
+another British cousin to Baron d'AVRIL and the Earl of MARCH in--Lord
+JEUNE.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NO MORE LAW OFFICERS!--"An Automatic Recorder on the Forth Bridge"
+was a heading to a paragraph in the _St. James's_ last Saturday. The
+announcement must have startled Sir THOMAS CHAMBERS, Q.C. Heavens!
+If there is one Automatic Recorder in the North, why not another in
+the South? Automatic Recorders would be followed by Automatic Common
+Serjeants, and--Isn't it too awful!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: RATHER A LARGE ORDER.
+
+_The Herr Professor_. "ACH--BEST MISS ROSY, VILL YOU KINDLY TURN ME
+OVER!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LOOKING FORWARD.
+
+(_EXTRACT FROM "THE DAILY PRIZE-FIGHTER," SEPTEMBER 24, 1900._)
+
+Yesterday morning LOO BOBBETT and BEN MOUSETRAP had an interview
+with Mr. PHEASANT, the Magistrate presiding in the North-West London
+Police Court. The approaches to the Court were crowded from an early
+hour. Amongst those in the street we noticed BILLY BLOWFROTH, and SAM
+SNEEZER, the well-known pot-boys from "The Glove and Wadding" and
+"The Tap o'Claret" Hotels, SHINY MOSES, AARON ISAACS, and SANDY the
+Sossidge (so-called by his friends on account of his appearance),
+the celebrated bankers from the West-end of Whitechapel, and a large
+gathering of the _élite_ of the Lambeth Road. Inside the Court the
+company was, if possible, even more select. Mr. TITAN CHAPEL, the
+proprietor of the Featherbed Club, was the first to arrive in his
+private brougham, and he was followed at short intervals by the Earl
+of ARRIEMORE, Lord TRIMI GLOVESON, Mr. TOOWITH YEW, Mr. BRANDIC OHLD,
+Mr. SPLITTS ODER, Mr. GINCOCK TALE, and Mr. ANGUS TEWBER, with a heap
+more of the best known patrons of sport in the Metropolis. Little
+time was cut to waste in the preliminaries, and it was generally
+acknowledged at the end of the day that no prettier set-to had been
+witnessed for a long time than that which took place at the North-West
+London Police Court. We append below some of the more salient portions
+of the evidence.
+
+_Inspector Chizzlem_. I produce a pair of gloves ordinarily used at
+London boxing matches. [_Produces them from his waistcoat pocket._
+
+_Mr. Pheasant_ (_the Magistrate_). Pardon me. I don't quite
+understand. Were the gloves that you produce to be used at this
+particular competition?
+
+_Inspector Chizzlem_. No, your Worship. These are one ounce
+gloves. The gloves with which these men were to fight are known as
+"feather-weight" gloves.
+
+_Mr. Pheasant_. Ah, I see. Feather-weight, not feather-bed, I presume.
+(_Loud Laughter, in which both the accused joined._) Have you the
+actual gloves with you?
+
+_Mr. Titan Chapel_ (_from the Solicitor's table_). I have brought
+them, Sir. Here--dear me, what can I have done with them? I thought
+I had them somewhere about me. (_Pats his various pockets. A thought
+strikes him. He pulls out his watch_.) Ah, of course, how foolish of
+me! I generally carry them in my watch-case.
+
+  [_Opens watch, produces them, and hands them up to Magistrate_.
+
+_Mr. Pheasant_. Dear me!--so these are gloves. I know I am
+inexperienced in these matters, but they look to me rather like
+elastic bands. (_Roars of laughter. Mr. PHEASANT tries them on._)
+However, they teem to fit very nicely. Yes, who is the next witness?
+
+_The Earl of Arriemore_ (_entering the witness-box_). I am, my noble
+sportsman.
+
+_Mr. Pheasant_. Who are you?
+
+_The Earl of Arriemore_. ARRIEMORE'S my name, yer Washup, wich I'm a
+bloomin' Lord.
+
+_Mr. Pheasant_. Of course--of course. Now tell me, have you ever boxed
+at all yourself?
+
+_The Earl of Arriemore_. Never, thwulp me, never! But I like to set
+the lads on to do a bit of millin' for me.
+
+_Mr. Pheasant_. Quite so. Very right and proper. What do you say to
+the gloves produced by the inspector?
+
+_The Earl of Arriemore_. Call _them_ gloves? Why, I calls 'em
+woolsacks, that's what I calls 'em. [_Much laughter._
+
+_Mr. Pheasant_. No doubt, that would be so. But now with regard to
+these other gloves, do you say they would be calculated to deaden the
+force of a blow; in fact, to prevent such a contest from degenerating
+into a merely brutal exhibition, and to make it, as I understand it
+ought to be, a contest of pure skill?
+
+_The Earl of Arriemore_. That's just it. Why, two babbies might box
+with them gloves and do themselves no harm. And, as to skill, why it
+wants a lot of skill to hit with 'em at all.
+
+  [_Winks at Lord TRIMI GLOVESON, who winks back._
+
+_Mr. Pheasant_. Really? That is very interesting, very interesting
+indeed! I think perhaps the best plan will be for the two
+principals to accompany me into my private room, to give a practical
+exemplification of the manner in which such a contest is generally
+conducted. (_At this point the learned Magistrate retired from the
+Bench, and was followed into his private room by LOO BOBBETT. BEN
+MOUSETRAP, and their Seconds. After an hour's interval, Mr. PHEASANT
+returned to the Bench alone_.) I will give my decision at once. The
+prize must be handed over to Mr. MOUSETRAP. That last cross-counter
+of his fairly settled Mr. BOBBETT. I held the watch myself, and I
+know that he lay on the ground stunned for a full minute. (_To the_
+Usher.) Send the Divisional Surgeon into my room at once, and fetch an
+ambulance. The Court will now adjourn.
+
+  [_Loud applause, which was instantly suppressed._
+
+_Mr. Pheasant_ (_sternly_).> This Court is not a Prize-Ring.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE" AT THE AVENUE.
+
+[Illustration: Alexander the Less and the preux Chevalier.]
+
+First of all, the title of the piece is against it. _The Struggle for
+Life_ suggests to the general British Public, unacquainted with the
+name of DAUDET, a melodrama of the type of _Drink_, in which a variety
+of characters should be engaged in the great struggle for existence.
+It is suggestive of strikes, the great struggle between Labour and
+Capital, between class and class, between principal and interest,
+between those with moral principles and those without them. It
+is suggestive of the very climax of melodramatic sensation, and,
+being suggestive of all this to the majority, the majority will be
+disappointed when it doesn't get all that this very responsible
+title has led them to expect. Those who know the French novel will
+be dissatisfied with the English adaptation of it, filtered, as it
+has been, through a French dramatic version of the story. So much
+for the title. For the play itself, as given by Messrs. BUCHANAN
+and HORNER,--the latter of whom, true to ancestral tradition, will
+have his finger in the pie,--it is but an ordinary drama, strongly
+reminding a public which knows its DICKENS of the story of _Little
+Em'ly_, with _Vaillant_ for _Old Peggotty_, _Lydie_ for _Little
+Em'ly_, _Antonin Caussade_ for _Ham_, and _Paul Astier_ for
+_Steerforth_. Perhaps it would be carrying the resemblance too far to
+see in _Rosa Dartle_, with her scorn For "that sort of creature," the
+germ of _Esther de Sélény_. Mix this with a situation from _Le Monde
+où l'on s'ennuie_, spoilt in the mixing, and there's the drama.
+
+[Illustration: The Avenger.]
+
+For the acting--it is admirable. Miss GENEVIEVE WARD is superb as
+_Madame Paul Astier_, and it is not her fault, but the misfortune
+of the part, that the wife of _Paul_ is a woman old enough to be his
+mother, with whose sufferings--with her eyes wide open, having married
+a man of whose worthlessness she was aware,--it is impossible to feel
+very much sympathy. She is old enough to have known better. Mr. GEORGE
+ALEXANDER'S performance of the scoundrel _Paul_ leaves little to be
+desired, but he must struggle for dear life against his--of course,
+unconscious--imitation of HENRY IRVING. Shut your eyes to the facts,
+occasionally, especially in the death-scene, and it is the voice of
+IRVING; open them, and it is ALEXANDER agonising. No one can care for
+the fine lady, statuesquely impersonated by Miss ALMA STANLEY, who
+yields as easily to _Paul's_ seductive wooing as does _Lady Anne_
+to _Richard the Third_. After Miss WARD and Mr. ALEXANDER, the best
+performance is that of Miss GRAVES as _Little Em'ly Lydie_, and of Mr.
+FREDERICK KERR as _Antonin Ham Caussade_,--the last-named enlisting
+the genuine sympathy of the audience for a character which, in less
+able hands, might have bordered on the grotesque. The comic parts
+have simply been made bores by the adapters, and are not suited to the
+farcical couple, Miss KATE PHILLIPS and Mr. ALBERT CHEVALIER, who are
+cast for them. If this play is to struggle successfully for life, the
+weakest, that is, the comic element, should at once go to the wall,
+and the fittest alone, that is, the tragic, should survive. Also,
+as the play begins at the convenient hour of 8.45, it should end
+punctually at eleven. The only realistic scene is in _Paul Astier's_
+room, when he is dressing for dinner, and washes his hands with real
+soap, uses real towels, and puts real studs and links into his shirt,
+and then suddenly reminded, as it were, by a titter which pervades
+the house, that there are "ladies present," he disappears for a few
+seconds, and returns in his evening-dress trowsers and nice clean
+shirt, looking, except for the absence of braces, like a certain
+well-known haberdasher's pictorial advertisement. It is vastly to the
+credit of the management that all the articles of _Paul's_ toilet,
+including Soap(!!), are not turned to pecuniary advantage in the
+advertisements on the programmes. But isn't it a chance lost in _The
+Struggle for Life_ at the Avenue?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+CITY VESTRIES AND CITY BENEFACTIONS.
+
+I have lately had the distinguished honour conferred upon me of being
+unanimously elected a Vestryman of the important Parish of Saint
+Michael-Shear-the-Hog, which I need hardly say is situate in the
+ancient and renowned City of London. I owe my election I believe, to
+the undoubted fact that I am what is called--I scarcely know why--a
+tooth-and-nail Conservative, no one of anything approaching to
+Radicalism being ever allowed to enter within the sacred precincts
+of our very select Body. Our number is small, but, I am informed, we
+represent the very pick of the Parish, and we have confided to us
+the somewhat desperate task of defending the funds entrusted to us,
+centuries ago, from the fierce attack of Commissioners with almost
+unlimited powers, but with little or no sympathy with the sacred
+wishes of deceased Parishioners.
+
+Our contention is that wherever, from circumstances that our pious
+ancestors could not have foreseen, it has become simply impossible to
+carry out literally their instructions, the funds should be applied
+to strictly analogous purposes. For instance, now in a neighbouring
+Parish, I am not quite sure whether it is St. Margaret Moses, or
+St. Peter the Queer, a considerable sum was bequeathed by a pious
+parishioner in the reign of Queen MARY, of blessed memory, the income
+from which was to be applied to the purchasing of faggots for the
+burning of heretics, which it was probably considered would be a
+considerable saving to the funds of the Parish in question. At the
+present time, as we all know, although there are doubtless plenty of
+heretics, it has ceased to be the custom to burn them, so the bequest
+cannot be applied in accordance with the wishes of the pious founder.
+The important question therefore arises, how should the bequest be
+applied? Would it be believed that men are to be found, and men having
+authority, more's the pity, who can recommend its application to the
+education of the poor, to the providing of convalescent hospitals, or
+even the preservation of open spaces for the healthful enjoyment of
+the masses of the Metropolis! Yet such is the sad fact. My Vestry,
+I am proud to say, are unanimously of opinion that, in such a case
+as I have described, common sense and common justice would dictate
+that, as the intentions of the pious founder cannot be applied to the
+punishment of vice, it should be devoted to the reward of virtue, and
+this would be best accomplished by expending the fund in question in
+an annual banquet to those Vestrymen who attended the most assiduously
+to the arduous duties of their important office. JOSEPH GREENHORN.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ANOTHER TERC-ISH ATROCITY.
+
+(_BY A SCEPTICAL SUFFERER._)
+
+    [An Austrian physician, Dr. TERC, prescribes bee-stings as a
+    cure for rheumatism!]
+
+  How cloth the little Busy Bee
+    Insert his poisoned stings,
+  And kill the keen rheumatic pain
+    That mortal muscle wrings!
+
+  Great Scott! It sounds so like a sell!
+    Bee-stings for rheumatiz?
+  As well try wasps to make one well.
+    That TERC must be a quiz.
+
+  Rather would I rheumatics bear
+    Than try the Busy Bee.
+  No, Austrian TERC, your cure _may_ work!
+    But won't he tried on _me_!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"IL IRA LOIN."--Great day for England in general, and for London in
+particular, when AUGUSTUS GLOSSOP HARRIS,--the "Gloss-op"-portunely
+appears nothing without the gloss up-on him,--popularly known by
+the title of AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS, rode to the Embankment with
+his trumpeters,--it being _infra dig._ to be seen blowing one
+himself,--with his beautiful banners, and his footmen all in
+State liveries designed by LEWIS LE GRAND WINGFIELD, he himself
+(DRURIOLANUS, not LEWIS LE GRAND) being seated in his gorgeous new
+carriage; Sheriff FARMER, too, equally gorgeous, and equally new, but
+neither so grand nor so great as DRURIOLANUS The Magnificent. Then
+followed "the quaint ceremony of admission." Not "Free Admission," by
+any means, for no man can be a Sheriff of London for nothing. There
+were loud cheers, and a big Lunch. _Ave Cæsar!_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS.,
+Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no
+case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed
+Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol.
+99, October 4, 1890, by Various
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12306 ***