diff options
Diffstat (limited to '12306-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/12306-h.htm | 1904 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/157.png | bin | 0 -> 55828 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/158.png | bin | 0 -> 188149 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/159.png | bin | 0 -> 88662 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/160-1.png | bin | 0 -> 46857 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/160-2.png | bin | 0 -> 15085 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/161-1.png | bin | 0 -> 24215 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/161-2.png | bin | 0 -> 7049 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/162.png | bin | 0 -> 167589 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/163.png | bin | 0 -> 262524 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/165.png | bin | 0 -> 134810 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/166.png | bin | 0 -> 234162 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/167.png | bin | 0 -> 85164 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/168-1.png | bin | 0 -> 21579 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/168-2.png | bin | 0 -> 14356 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 12306-h/images/168-3.png | bin | 0 -> 4826 bytes |
16 files changed, 1904 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/12306-h/12306-h.htm b/12306-h/12306-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a0fe9eb --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/12306-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1904 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> + + <title>Punch, October 4, 1890.</title> + <style type="text/css"> + /*<![CDATA[*/ + + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + .note + {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt;} + + .poem + {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .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;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + .figure, .figcenter, .figright, .figleft + {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img, .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img + {border: none;} + .figure p, .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p + {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + .figleft {float: left;} + + .footnote {font-size: 0.9em; margin-right: 10%; margin-left: 10%;} + + .side { float:right; + font-size: 75%; + width: 25%; + padding-left:10px; + border-left: dashed thin; + margin-left: 10px; + text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; + font-weight: bold; + font-style: italic;} + --> + /*]]>*/ + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12306 ***</div> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 99.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>October 4, 1890.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page157" + id="page157"></a>[pg 157]</span> + + <h2>MR. PUNCH'S PRIZE NOVELS.</h2> + + <h4>NEW SERIES.—IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT.</h4> + + <p>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 <i>in + transitu</i>, 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.</p> + + <p>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 <i>Mr. Punch</i> 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.</p> + + <p>In acting thus <i>Mr. Punch</i> 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 <i>Mr. + Punch</i> will <i>give his own prize in his own way, and at his + own time</i>, to the author he may deem the best. And herewith + <i>Mr. Punch</i> gives a specimen of—</p> + + <h3>No. I.—ONE MAN IN A COAT.</h3> + + <h4>(<i>By</i> ARRY O.K. ARRY, <i>Author of "Stige Fices," + "Cheap Words of a Chippy Chappie," etsetterer.</i>)</h4> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>[PREFATORY NOTE.—This Novel was carefully wrapped + up in some odd leaves of MARK TWAIN'S <i>Innocents + Abroad</i>, 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.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <h4>CHAPTER I.</h4> + + <p>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.</p> + + <p>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.</p> + + <p>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!</p> + + <h4>CHAPTER II.</h4> + + <p>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.</p> + + <p>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.</p> + + <h4>CHAPTER III.</h4> + + <p>The Slavey managed—</p> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>[No, thank you. No more.—ED.]</p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/157.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/157.png" + alt="" /></a> + + <p><i>His Reverence</i>. "DINNER, 7:30. I'LL GIVE YOU A + QUARTER OF AN HOUR'S GRACE!"</p> + + <p><i>His Irreverence</i>. "THEN COMMENCE AT 7:30, AND I'LL + BE THERE AT 7:45!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>FAVOURITE TOOL OF RAILWAY COMPANIES.—A + Screw-Driver!</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page158" + id="page158"></a>[pg 158]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <h2>"C'EST MAGNIFIQUE! + MAIS—"</h2><a href="images/158.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/158.png" + alt="" /></a> + + <p><i>Mr. Bull</i> (<i>Paymaster</i>). "WELL, WHAT DO YOU + THINK OF IT?"</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Punch</i> (<i>Umpire-in Chief</i>). "FINE + RIDER—FINE HORSE! BUT—AS A CAVALRY + SOLDIER—HAS TO LEARN HIS BUSINESS!"</p> + </div> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>["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."—<i>The Times + Military Correspondent</i>.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <h4>Air—"<i>Tally-Ho!</i>" (<i>from the Balliol + Song-Book.</i>)</h4><span class="pagenum"><a name="page159" + id="page159"></a>[pg 159]</span> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Of all the recreations with which mortal man is + blest"</p> + + <p>(Says BALLIOL's Song) "fox-hunting still is + pleasantest and best."</p> + + <p>A Briton in the saddle is a picture, and our + pride,</p> + + <p>In scarlet or in uniform at least our lads can + <i>ride</i>.</p> + + <p class="i2">Away, away they go,</p> + + <p class="i2">With a tally, tally-ho!</p> + + <p>With a tally, tally, tally, tally, tally, + tally-ho!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But riding, for our Cavalry, is, after all, not + all.</p> + + <p>To lead the field, to leap a fence, to bravely face + a fall,</p> + + <p>Are well enough. And first-rate stuff from the + hunting-field may come,</p> + + <p>But something more is wanted when Bellona beats her + drum,</p> + + <p class="i2">And calls our lads to go,</p> + + <p class="i2">With a rally, rally-ho! &c.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Good men and rattling horses are not all that + England needs;</p> + + <p>She wants sound knowledge in the men, and training + in the steeds.</p> + + <p>Scouting and reconnaissance are not needed for the + fox,</p> + + <p>Nor "leading in big masses" for the furious final + shocks,</p> + + <p class="i2">When away the troopers go,</p> + + <p class="i2">With a rally, rally, ho! &c.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But when a squadron charges on the real field of + war,</p> + + <p>Courage and a good seat alone will not go very + far;</p> + + <p>Our lads must "know their business," and their + officers must "lead,"</p> + + <p>Not with cross-country dash alone, but skill and + prudent heed,</p> + + <p class="i2">When away the troopers go,</p> + + <p class="i2">With a rally, rally, ho! &c.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>War's field will test the Cavalry, or clad in blue + or red;</p> + + <p>In all things they must "thorough" be, as well as + thorough-bred.</p> + + <p>"Heavy" or "light," they'll have to <i>fight</i>; + not such mad, headlong fray,</p> + + <p>As marked for fame with pride—and + shame—that Balaklava day,</p> + + <p class="i2">When away our lads did go,</p> + + <p class="i2">With a rally, rally, ho! &c.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Eh? "Inefficient," Mr. BULL, "and not prepared for + war?"</p> + + <p>That judgment, if 'tis <i>near</i> the truth, on + patriot souls must jar.</p> + + <p>And <i>Mr. Punch</i> (Umpire-in-Chief) to JOHN + (Paymaster), cries,</p> + + <p>"You'll have to test the truth of this before the + need arise</p> + + <p class="i2">For our lads away to go.</p> + + <p class="i2">With a rally, rally-ho!" &c</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And since that Soldier's incomplete for <i>Duty</i> + unprepared,</p> + + <p>Although he's game to dare the worst that ever + Briton dared,</p> + + <p>To supplement our trooper's skill in saddle, pluck + and dash,</p> + + <p>You must have more manoeuvres, JOHN, and—if + needs be,—<i>more cash!</i></p> + + <p class="i2">Then away away we'll go</p> + + <p class="i2">With a tally rally-ho!</p> + + <p>And never be afraid to face the strongest, fiercest + foe.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:70%;"> + <a href="images/159.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/159.png" + alt="" /></a> + + <h3>Journalism in France. Journalism in England.</h3>(A + Contrast.) + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>HAD HE SUCCEEDED!</h2> + + <h4>(<i>A Possible Page in French History that probably will + never be written.</i>)</h4> + + <p>The General-President had been established at the + Elysée for some three months, when his + <i>aides-de-camp</i> 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.</p> + + <p>"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 <i>entrée</i>. And now, + <i>houp-là!</i> You can go."</p> + + <p>Thus dismissed, the unfortunate <i>aides-de-camp</i> 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.</p> + + <p>One morning the General-President, weary of interviews, was + about to retire into his <i>salle-à-manger</i>, there to + discuss the twenty-five courses of his simple + <i>déjeuner à la fourchette</i>, 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.</p> + + <p>"What do you want with me?" asked the General-President, + sharply. "Do you not know I am busy?"</p> + + <p>"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."</p> + + <p>Thus courteously invited, His Highness could but comply, and + for some ten minutes host and guest indulged in a + breakdown.</p> + + <p>"And now, what do you want with me?" asked the + General-President when the dance had been brought to a + satisfactory conclusion.</p> + + <p>"My reward," was the prompt reply.</p> + + <p>"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."</p> + + <p>"Ah! but they did not do so much for you as I did."</p> + + <p>"Well, I don't know," returned the General-President, "but + they parted with their gold pretty freely."</p> + + <p>"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!"</p> + + <p>"You will find I am not ungrateful," said the Chief of the + State, with difficulty suppressing his emotion.</p> + + <p>His Highness was as good as his word. The next night at the + <i>Café des Ambassadeurs</i> there was a novel + attraction. An old favourite was described in the + <i>affiches</i> as <i>le Due de Nouveau-Cirque</i>.</p> + + <p>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 <i>grand cordon</i> of the + Legion of Honour on his back! Then it was felt that France + <i>must</i> 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!</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page160" + id="page160"></a>[pg 160]</span> + + <h2>SCOTT-FREE; OR, RAVENSWOOD-NOTES WILD.</h2> + + <p>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 + <i>Ravenswood</i>, 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 <i>Sporting Times</i> + would irreverently speak of him) soliloquises over Master's + father's coffin. Arrival of <i>Sir William Ashton</i>. Row and + flashing of steel in torchlight. Appearance of one lovely + beyond compare—ELLEN TERRY, otherwise <i>Lucy Ashton</i>; + graceful as a Swan. Swan and Edgar. Curtain.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:70%;"> + <a href="images/160-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/160-1.png" + alt="Mr. Henry Irving." /></a> + + <h3>MR. IRVING MAKING HIS GREAT HIT. THE + BULL'S-EYE!</h3>After such a hit,—"there is no cause + for fear now!" + </div> + + <p>ACT II.—Library and Armoury. Convenient swords and + loaded blunderbusses. <i>Lord Keeper Ashton</i> appears. Quite + right that there should be the Keeper present, in view of + <i>Lucy</i> subsequently going mad. Young <i>Henry Ashton</i>, + 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? <i>Lucy's</i>? "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 <i>The History of Two Parliaments</i>, and + <i>Fleecing Gideon</i>, but of his daughter <i>Lucy</i>, 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>i.e.</i>, + <i>Lucy</i>. What shall he have who kills the bull with a bull + 'it? Why, a tent at Cowshot, near Bisley.</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:30%;"> + <a href="images/160-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/160-2.png" + alt="Mr. Mackintosh balancing the feather on the sands." /> + </a>What Mr. Mackintosh ought to have done. "Balancing + the Feather." An entertainment on the sands. + </div> + + <p><i>Next Scene</i>.—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</p> + + <p>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 + <i>Mrs. McBouncer</i> in <i>McBox and McCox</i>. Naturally + enough, off goes Master to France.</p> + + <p>ACT IV.—Another splendid scene. Magnificently attired, + <i>Hayston of Bucklaw</i> attempts to raise a laugh. Success. + <i>Mrs. Mac Bouncer</i> coerces <i>Lucy</i> in white satin to + sign the fatal contract that will settle Master. Ah! that awful + laugh—far more tragic than the one secured by + <i>Bucklaw</i>! It is <i>Lucy</i> going mad! She has already + shown signs of incipient insanity by calling Mr. HOWE, + otherwise <i>Bide-the-Bent</i>, a "holy Father,"—much to + that excellent comedian's surprised content. Contract signed. + Return of "Master." <i>Dénoûment</i> 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! <i>Caleb</i> 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.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>AN EMPEROR'S WILL.</h2> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>[The German Emperor is an accomplished Sportsman. He + appears to be able to bring down his birds at + will.—<i>Daily News</i>.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Would you like to be an Emperor, and wear a golden + crown,</p> + + <p class="i2">With fifty different uniforms for every + single day;</p> + + <p>To make the nations shudder with the semblance of a + frown,</p> + + <p class="i2">And, if BISMARCKS should oppose you, just + to order them away?</p> + + <p class="i10">With your actions autocratic,</p> + + <p class="i10">And your poses so dramatic;</p> + + <p>Yours the honour and the glory, while the country + pays the bill,</p> + + <p class="i10">With your shouting sempiternal,</p> + + <p class="i10">And your Grandmamma a Colonel,</p> + + <p>And the power—which is best of all—to + shoot your birds by will.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then the joy of gallopading with a helmet and a + sword,</p> + + <p class="i2">While the thunder of your cannons wakes + the echoes from afar.</p> + + <p>And if, while you're in Germany, you happen to be + bored,</p> + + <p class="i2">Why, you rush away to Russia, and you + call upon the CZAR.</p> + + <p class="i10">With your wordy perorations,</p> + + <p class="i10">And your peaceful proclamations,</p> + + <p>While you grind the nation's manhood in your + military mill.</p> + + <p class="i10">And whenever skies look pleasant</p> + + <p class="i10">Out you go and shoot a pheasant,</p> + + <p>Or as many as you want to, with your + double-barrelled will.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>You can always flout your father, too—he's + dead, but never mind;</p> + + <p class="i2">He and all who dream as he did are much + better in their graves.</p> + + <p>And you cross the sea to Osborne, and, if Grandmamma + be kind,</p> + + <p class="i2">You become a British Admiral, and help to + rule the waves;</p> + + <p class="i10">With Jack Tars to say "Ay, Ay, Sir!"</p> + + <p class="i10">To this nautical young Kaiser,</p> + + <p>Who is like the waves he sails on, since he never + can be still.</p> + + <p class="i10">Who to every other blessing</p> + + <p class="i10">Adds the proud one of possessing</p> + + <p>A gun-replacing, bird-destroying, game-bag-filling + will.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>"HATS OFF!"—MR. EDWARD CROSSLEY, M.P., is to be + congratulated on a narrow escape, according to the report in + the <i>Times</i> 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 "<i>his hat was + cut to pieces</i>." 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.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page161" + id="page161"></a>[pg 161]</span> + + <h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:30%;"> + <a href="images/161-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/161-1.png" + alt="Reviewing." /></a>Reviewing. + </div> + + <p>The Baron says that he has scarcely been able to get through + the first morning of <i>The Last Days of Palmyra</i>, which + story, so far, reminds him—it being the fashion just now + to mention Cardinal NEWMAN's works—of the latter's + <i>Callista</i>. And <i>à propos</i> of <i>Callista</i> + 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 <i>Good + Words</i> for October, and is by Mr. R.H. HUTTON. The Baron is + coaching himself up for a visit to the Lyceum to see + <i>Ravenswood</i>, of which, on all hands, he hears so much + that is good. What a delightful scene where <i>Caleb</i> steals + the wild-fowl from the spit, and the subsequent one, where + <i>Dame Lightbody</i> 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 <i>were</i> they? What were their names? Who + cares?) that the great novelist actually explains how the + incident was founded on one in real life.</p> + + <p>Now to my books. Gadzooks, what's here? Another volume of + <i>Obiter Dicta?</i> 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 <i>Obiter</i> and + <i>Dicta</i> too. With an unclassical false quantity anyone who + so chooses to unscholarise himself, can speak of him as the + <i>O'Biter</i>, 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 <i>Obiter</i>. 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 <i>Obiter</i> been the size of either <i>The Handy + Volume Shakspeare</i>, 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.</p> + + <p>"Next, please!" BLACKIE'S <i>Modern Cyclopedia</i>. 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.</p> + + <p>"Next, please!" <i>How Stanley Wrote his Darkest Africa</i>. + 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.</p> + + <p>Interesting account of JOSEF ISRAELS in the <i>Magazine of + Art</i>; 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 <i>The Woman's World</i>." The parodies of the + style of Mr. PATER, and of a translation of a Tolstoian Romance + in <i>The Cornhill Magazine</i>, 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 <i>me</i>." It includes a few anecdotes of some + Farm'ous Persons; so perhaps the title is a + crypto-punnygraph.</p> + + <p>All Etonians should possess <i>The English Illustrated + Magazine</i> (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</p> + + <p>BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>FASHIONS IN PHYSIC.</h2> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>[The President of the British Pharmaceutical Conference + lately drew attention to the prevalence of fashion in + medicine.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>A fashion in physic, like fashions in frills:</p> + + <p>The doctors at one time are mad upon pills;</p> + + <p>And crystalline principles now have their day,</p> + + <p>Where alkaloids once held an absolute sway.</p> + + <p>The drugs of old times might be good, but it's + true,</p> + + <p>We discard them in favour of those that are new.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The salts and the senna have vanished, we fear,</p> + + <p>As the poet has said, like the snows of last + year;</p> + + <p>And where is the mixture in boyhood we quaff'd,</p> + + <p>That was known by the ominous name of Black + Draught?</p> + + <p>While Gregory's Powder has gone, we are told,</p> + + <p>To the limbo of drugs that are worn out and old.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>New fads and new fancies are reigning supreme,</p> + + <p>And calomel one day will be but a dream;</p> + + <p>While folks have asserted a chemist might toil</p> + + <p>Through his shelves, and find out he had no castor + oil;</p> + + <p>While as to Infusions, they've long taken wings,</p> + + <p>And they'd think you quite mad for prescribing such + things.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The fashion to-day is a tincture so strong,</p> + + <p>That, if dosing yourself, you are sure to go + wrong.</p> + + <p>What men learnt in the past they say brings them no + pelf,</p> + + <p>And the well-tried old remedies rest on the + shelf.</p> + + <p>But the patient may haply exclaim, "Don't be + rash,</p> + + <p>Lest your new-fangled physic should settle my + hash!"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>"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 + <i>Times</i> 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.</p> + <hr /> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:15%;"> + <a href="images/161-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/161-2.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>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."</p> + <hr /> + + <p>"CHANGE OF AIR—WANTED," by a party much broken up, a + new tune to replace the "<i>Boulanger March</i>!" If the new + tune cannot be found, we can at least suggest a change of title + for the old one. So, instead of "<i>En revenant de la + Revue</i>," let it be "<i>En rêvant à la + Revue</i>." 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 <i>rallentando + diminuendo</i>, 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.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>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?</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page162" + id="page162"></a>[pg 162]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/162.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/162.png" + alt="Adding insult to injury." /></a> + + <h3>ADDING INSULT TO INJURY.</h3><i>Brown</i> (<i>whose + prize St. Bernard has just snatched a fillet of Veal from a + Butcher's slab</i>). "HI! COME AND TAKE YOUR CONFOUNDED + MEAT AWAY FROM HIM! <i>HE'S EATING THE SKEWERS!</i>" + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>"DEATH AND HIS BROTHER SLEEP."</h2> + + <h4><i>Queen Mab</i>.</h4> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>[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."—<i>Daily Chronicle</i>.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Who</i> is in charge of the clattering train?</p> + + <p>The axles creak, and the couplings strain.</p> + + <p>Ten minutes behind at the Junction. Yes!</p> + + <p>And we're twenty now to the bad—no less!</p> + + <p>We must make it up on our flight to town.</p> + + <p>Clatter and crash! That's the last train down,</p> + + <p>Flashing by with a steamy trail.</p> + + <p>Pile on the fuel! We must not fail.</p> + + <p>At every mile we a minute must gain!</p> + + <p><i>Who</i> is in charge of the clattering train?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Why, flesh and blood, as a matter of course!</p> + + <p>You may talk of iron, and prate of force;</p> + + <p>But, after all, and do what you can,</p> + + <p>The best—and cheapest—machine is + Man!</p> + + <p>Wealth knows it well, and the hucksters feel</p> + + <p>'Tis safer to trust them to sinew than steel.</p> + + <p>With a bit of brain, and a conscience, behind,</p> + + <p>Muscle works better than steam or wind.</p> + + <p>Better, and longer, and harder all round;</p> + + <p>And cheap, so cheap! Men superabound</p> + + <p>Men stalwart, vigilant, patient, bold;</p> + + <p>The stokehole's heat and the crow's-nest's cold,</p> + + <p>The choking dusk of the noisome mine,</p> + + <p>The northern blast o'er the beating brine,</p> + + <p>With dogged valour they coolly brave;</p> + + <p>So on rattling rail, or on wind-scourged wave,</p> + + <p>At engine lever, at furnace front,</p> + + <p>Or steersman's wheel, <i>they</i> must bear the + brunt</p> + + <p>Of lonely vigil or lengthened strain.</p> + + <p><i>Man</i> is in charge of the thundering train!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Man, in the shape of a modest chap</p> + + <p>In fustian trousers and greasy cap;</p> + + <p>A trifle stolid, and something gruff,</p> + + <p>Yet, though unpolished, of sturdy stuff.</p> + + <p>With grave grey eyes, and a knitted brow,</p> + + <p>The glare of sun and the gleam of snow</p> + + <p>Those eyes have stared on this many a year.</p> + + <p>The crow's-feet gather in mazes queer</p> + + <p>About their corners most apt to choke</p> + + <p>With grime of fuel and fume of smoke.</p> + + <p>Little to tickle the artist taste—</p> + + <p>An oil-can, a fist-full of "cotton waste,"</p> + + <p>The lever's click and the furnace gleam,</p> + + <p>And the mingled odour of oil and steam;</p> + + <p>These are the matters that fill the brain</p> + + <p>Of the Man in charge of the clattering train.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Only a Man, but away at his back,</p> + + <p>In a dozen ears, on the steely track,</p> + + <p>A hundred passengers place their trust</p> + + <p>In this fellow of fustian, grease, and dust.</p> + + <p>They cheerily chat, or they calmly sleep,</p> + + <p>Sure that the driver <i>his</i> watch will keep</p> + + <p>On the night-dark track, that he will not fail.</p> + + <p>So the thud, thud, thud of wheel upon rail</p> + + <p>The hiss of steam-spurts athwart the dark.</p> + + <p>Lull them to confident drowsiness. Hark!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>What is that sound? 'Tis the stertorous breath</p> + + <p>Of a slumbering man,—and it smacks of + death!</p> + + <p>Full sixteen hours of continuous toil</p> + + <p>Midst the fume of sulphur, the reek of oil,</p> + + <p>Have told their tale on the man's tired brain,</p> + + <p>And Death is in charge of the clattering train!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Sleep—Death's brother, as poets deem,</p> + + <p>Stealeth soft to his side; a dream</p> + + <p>Of home and rest on his spirit creeps,</p> + + <p>That wearied man, as the engine leaps,</p> + + <p>Throbbing, swaying along the line;</p> + + <p>Those poppy-fingers his head incline</p> + + <p>Lower, lower, in slumber's trance;</p> + + <p>The shadows fleet, and the gas-gleams dance</p> + + <p>Faster, faster in mazy flight,</p> + + <p>As the engine flashes across the night.</p> + + <p>Mortal muscle and human nerve</p> + + <p>Cheap to purchase, and stout to serve.</p> + + <p>Strained <i>too</i> fiercely will faint and + swerve.</p> + + <p>Over-weighted, and underpaid,</p> + + <p>This human tool of exploiting Trade,</p> + + <p>Though tougher than leather, tenser than steel.</p> + + <p>Fails at last, for his senses reel,</p> + + <p>His nerves collapse, and, with sleep-sealed + eyes,</p> + + <p>Prone and helpless a log he lies!</p> + + <p>A hundred hearts beat placidly on,</p> + + <p>Unwitting they that their warder's gone;</p> + + <p>A hundred lips are babbling blithe,</p> + + <p>Some seconds hence they in pain may writhe.</p> + + <p>For the pace is hot, and the points are near,</p> + + <p>And Sleep hath deadened the driver's ear;</p> + + <p>And signals flash through the night in vain.</p> + + <p>Death is in charge of the clattering train!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>"WHAT TO DO WITH OUR GIRLS." (<i>Paterfamilias's + answer</i>.)—Give them away! (Matrimonially, of + course.)</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page163" + id="page163"></a>[pg 163]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/163.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/163.png" + alt="" /></a> + + <h3>"DEATH AND HIS BROTHER SLEEP."</h3>SHELLEY.<br /> + (<i>See Major Marindin's Report to the Board of Trade on + the Railway Collision near Eastleigh.</i>) + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page165" + id="page165"></a>[pg 165]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/165.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/165.png" + alt="" /></a> + + <h3>"THE CAUSE" AND THE EFFECT.</h3> + + <table summary="caption" + width="100%"> + <tr> + <td width="48%" + valign="top"> + <p>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.</p> + </td> + + <td width="4%"></td> + + <td width="48%" + valign="top"> + <p><i>Coroner</i>. How is it the child's father + cannot get work?</p> + + <p><i>Witness</i>. Because he has no Union + card.</p> + + <p><i>Coroner</i>. Then if men do not belong to + the different Trades Unions they must + starve.—<i>Coroner's Inquest + Report</i>.</p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>ALL VERY VINE!</h2> + + <h4>(<i>With acknowledgments to the White Knight in "Through + the Looking-Glass."</i>)</h4> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>["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."—<i>Daily Paper</i>.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I'll tell thee everything I can;</p> + + <p class="i2">There's little to relate:</p> + + <p>I met a simple citizen</p> + + <p class="i2">Of some "United State."</p> + + <p>"Who are you, simple man?" I said,</p> + + <p class="i2">"And how is it you live?"</p> + + <p>And his answer seemed quite 'cute from one</p> + + <p class="i2">So shy and sensitive.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>He said, "I make electric cats</p> + + <p class="i2">That prowl upon the leads,</p> + + <p>To prey upon the brutes who raise</p> + + <p class="i2">Mad music o'er our heads.</p> + + <p>I also make all sorts of things</p> + + <p class="i2">Which much convenience give;</p> + + <p>In fact, I'm an inventor spry,</p> + + <p class="i2">And that is how I live.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"And I am thinking of a plan</p> + + <p class="i2">For artificial hens,</p> + + <p>And automatic dairy-maids,</p> + + <p class="i2">And self-propelling pens."</p> + + <p>"Such things are stale," I made reply,</p> + + <p class="i2">"They're old, and flat, and thin.</p> + + <p>Tell me the last thing in your pate,</p> + + <p class="i2">Or I will cave it in!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>His accents mild took up the tale:</p> + + <p class="i2">He said, "I've tried to make</p> + + <p>A sirloin out of turnips, and</p> + + <p class="i2">A vegetable steak."</p> + + <p>I shook him well, from side to side,</p> + + <p class="i2">To stimulate his brain;</p> + + <p>"You've got some newer dodge," I cried,</p> + + <p class="i2">"And that you must explain."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>He said, "I always willingly</p> + + <p class="i2">Do anything to please.</p> + + <p>What do you say to growing grapes</p> + + <p class="i2">That taste like strawberr-ees!</p> + + <p>They're showing off at Chiswick now,</p> + + <p class="i2">As I a sinner am,</p> + + <p>Some big black Hamburgs which, when pressed,</p> + + <p class="i2">Taste just like raspberry jam."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So now whene'er I drink a glass</p> + + <p class="i2">Of wine that seems like rum,</p> + + <p>Or peel myself an orange that</p> + + <p class="i2">Reminds me of a plum,</p> + + <p>Or if I come across a peach</p> + + <p class="i2">With flavour like a bilberry,</p> + + <p>I weep, for it reminds me so</p> + + <p>Of Chiswick's Grape and Dahlia Show,</p> + + <p>And that 'cute man I used to know,</p> + + <p>Who could at will transform a sloe</p> + + <p>Into a thing with the aro-</p> + + <p>-ma of all fruits known here below,</p> + + <p class="i2">From apricot to mulberry.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>NATIVE GROWTH.</h2> + + <p>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 + <i>sub-Aldermanice</i>, we have nothing to say as to its merits + or demerits,—it appears, that in September, 1889, the + price of Royal Whitstable Natives was 14<i>s.</i> per 100; + <i>i.e.</i>, 1<i>s.</i> 3<i>d.</i> 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 <i>Notes and Queries</i> know. But, without + further allusion to the baker, who has just dropped in + accidentally as he did into the conversation between <i>Mrs. + Bardell</i> and <i>Mrs. Cluppins</i>, when <i>Sam Weller</i> + 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 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i>, and 3<i>s.</i>, + and even 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> 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 1<i>s.</i> 3<i>d.</i> 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.</p> + + <p>*** 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 <i>not</i> a county specially + celebrated for oysters.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>BREAKING A <i>RECORD</i> ON A WHEEL!</h2> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Break, break, break!</p> + + <p class="i2">On thy "Safety" swift, oh, "crack!"</p> + + <p>And I would that my tongue could utter</p> + + <p class="i2">My thoughts on the cyclist's track.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Oh, well for MECREDY, the "bhoy,"</p> + + <p class="i2">That "records" for him won't stay;</p> + + <p>And well for OSMOND and WOOD</p> + + <p class="i2">That they break them every day.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And the "Safeties" still improve,</p> + + <p class="i2">And their riders develope more skill;</p> + + <p>And it's oh! for the records of yesterday!</p> + + <p class="i2">To-morrow they'll all be nil!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Break! break! break!</p> + + <p class="i2">On thy wheels, oh, S.B.C.!</p> + + <p>But the grace of KEITH FALCONER, CORTIS, and + KEEN,</p> + + <p class="i2">Will they ever come back to me?</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page166" + id="page166"></a>[pg 166]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/166.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/166.png" + alt="" /></a> + + <h3>THE AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHIC PEST.</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page167" + id="page167"></a>[pg 167]</span> + + <h2>LOST HAIRS-AT-LAW.</h2> + + <p>"SEQUEL to a Breach of Promise Case" is the heading to a + paragraph in the <i>Daily Telegraph</i>, recording how + <i>Turner</i> v. <i>Avant</i> 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 "<i>En Avant</i>!" 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.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>TITLED MONTHS.—In the list given by the <i>Figaro</i> + of those present at Cardinal LAVIGERIE'S great anti-slavery + function at Saint Sulpice was "<i>un ancien ministre + plénipotentiare le Baron d'Avril.</i>" 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.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>NO MORE LAW OFFICERS!—"An Automatic Recorder on the + Forth Bridge" was a heading to a paragraph in the <i>St. + James's</i> 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!</p> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:55%;"> + <a href="images/167.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/167.png" + alt="Herr Professor plays the piano for Rosy." /></a> + + <h3>RATHER A LARGE ORDER.</h3><i>The Herr Professor</i>. + "ACH—BEST MISS ROSY, VILL YOU KINDLY TURN ME OVER!" + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>LOOKING FORWARD.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>Extract from "The Daily Prize-fighter," September 24, + 1900.</i>)</h4> + + <p>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 <i>élite</i> 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.</p> + + <p><i>Inspector Chizzlem</i>. I produce a pair of gloves + ordinarily used at London boxing matches. [<i>Produces them + from his waistcoat pocket.</i></p> + + <p><i>Mr. Pheasant</i> (<i>the Magistrate</i>). Pardon me. I + don't quite understand. Were the gloves that you produce to be + used at this particular competition?</p> + + <p><i>Inspector Chizzlem</i>. No, your Worship. These are one + ounce gloves. The gloves with which these men were to fight are + known as "feather-weight" gloves.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Pheasant</i>. Ah, I see. Feather-weight, not + feather-bed, I presume. (<i>Loud Laughter, in which both the + accused joined.</i>) Have you the actual gloves with you?</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Titan Chapel</i> (<i>from the Solicitor's table</i>). + I have brought them, Sir. Here—dear me, what can I have + done with them? I thought I had them somewhere about me. + (<i>Pats his various pockets. A thought strikes him. He pulls + out his watch</i>.) Ah, of course, how foolish of me! I + generally carry them in my watch-case.</p> + + <blockquote> + [<i>Opens watch, produces them, and hands them up to + Magistrate</i>. + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Mr. Pheasant</i>. Dear me!—so these are gloves. I + know I am inexperienced in these matters, but they look to me + rather like elastic bands. (<i>Roars of laughter. Mr. PHEASANT + tries them on.</i>) However, they teem to fit very nicely. Yes, + who is the next witness?</p> + + <p><i>The Earl of Arriemore</i> (<i>entering the + witness-box</i>). I am, my noble sportsman.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Pheasant</i>. Who are you?</p> + + <p><i>The Earl of Arriemore</i>. ARRIEMORE'S my name, yer + Washup, wich I'm a bloomin' Lord.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Pheasant</i>. Of course—of course. Now tell me, + have you ever boxed at all yourself?</p> + + <p><i>The Earl of Arriemore</i>. Never, thwulp me, never! But I + like to set the lads on to do a bit of millin' for me.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Pheasant</i>. Quite so. Very right and proper. What + do you say to the gloves produced by the inspector?</p> + + <p><i>The Earl of Arriemore</i>. Call <i>them</i> gloves? Why, + I calls 'em woolsacks, that's what I calls 'em. [<i>Much + laughter.</i></p> + + <p><i>Mr. Pheasant</i>. 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?</p> + + <p><i>The Earl of Arriemore</i>. 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.</p> + + <blockquote> + [<i>Winks at Lord TRIMI GLOVESON, who winks back.</i> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Mr. Pheasant</i>. 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. (<i>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>.) 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. (<i>To + the</i> Usher.) Send the Divisional Surgeon into my room at + once, and fetch an ambulance. The Court will now adjourn.</p> + + <blockquote> + [<i>Loud applause, which was instantly suppressed.</i> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Mr. Pheasant</i> (<i>sternly</i>). This Court is not a + Prize-Ring.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page168" + id="page168"></a>[pg 168]</span> + + <h2>"A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE" AT THE AVENUE.</h2> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/168-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/168-1.png" + alt="Mr. George Alexander and Mr. Albert Chevalier." /> + </a>Alexander the Less and the preux Chevalier. + </div> + + <p>First of all, the title of the piece is against it. <i>The + Struggle for Life</i> suggests to the general British Public, + unacquainted with the name of DAUDET, a melodrama of the type + of <i>Drink</i>, 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 + <i>Little Em'ly</i>, with <i>Vaillant</i> for <i>Old + Peggotty</i>, <i>Lydie</i> for <i>Little Em'ly</i>, <i>Antonin + Caussade</i> for <i>Ham</i>, and <i>Paul Astier</i> for + <i>Steerforth</i>. Perhaps it would be carrying the resemblance + too far to see in <i>Rosa Dartle</i>, with her scorn For "that + sort of creature," the germ of <i>Esther de + Sélény</i>. Mix this with a situation from <i>Le + Monde où l'on s'ennuie</i>, spoilt in the mixing, and + there's the drama.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:15%;"> + <a href="images/168-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/168-2.png" + alt="" /></a>The Avenger. + </div> + + <p>For the acting—it is admirable. Miss GENEVIEVE WARD is + superb as <i>Madame Paul Astier</i>, and it is not her fault, + but the misfortune of the part, that the wife of <i>Paul</i> 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 + <i>Paul</i> 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 + <i>Paul's</i> seductive wooing as does <i>Lady Anne</i> to + <i>Richard the Third</i>. After Miss WARD and Mr. ALEXANDER, + the best performance is that of Miss GRAVES as <i>Little Em'ly + Lydie</i>, and of Mr. FREDERICK KERR as <i>Antonin Ham + Caussade</i>,—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 <i>Paul Astier's</i> 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 <i>Paul's</i> toilet, including + Soap(!!), are not turned to pecuniary advantage in the + advertisements on the programmes. But isn't it a chance lost in + <i>The Struggle for Life</i> at the Avenue?</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>CITY VESTRIES AND CITY BENEFACTIONS.</h2> + + <p>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.</p> + + <p>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.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>ANOTHER TERC-ISH ATROCITY.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>By a Sceptical Sufferer.</i>)</h4> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>[An Austrian physician, Dr. TERC, prescribes bee-stings + as a cure for rheumatism!]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>How cloth the little Busy Bee</p> + + <p class="i2">Insert his poisoned stings,</p> + + <p>And kill the keen rheumatic pain</p> + + <p class="i2">That mortal muscle wrings!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Great Scott! It sounds so like a sell!</p> + + <p class="i2">Bee-stings for rheumatiz?</p> + + <p>As well try wasps to make one well.</p> + + <p class="i2">That TERC must be a quiz.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Rather would I rheumatics bear</p> + + <p class="i2">Than try the Busy Bee.</p> + + <p>No, Austrian TERC, your cure <i>may</i> work!</p> + + <p class="i2">But won't he tried on <i>me</i>!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:15%;"> + <a href="images/168-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/168-3.png" + alt="August Glossop Harris." /></a> + </div> + + <p>"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 <i>infra dig.</i> 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. <i>Ave Cæsar!</i></p> + <hr /> + + <p>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.</p> + <hr class="full" /> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12306 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/12306-h/images/157.png b/12306-h/images/157.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8cf3cee --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/157.png diff --git a/12306-h/images/158.png b/12306-h/images/158.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1479e8e --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/158.png diff --git a/12306-h/images/159.png b/12306-h/images/159.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..da40280 --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/159.png diff --git a/12306-h/images/160-1.png b/12306-h/images/160-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a48e479 --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/160-1.png diff --git a/12306-h/images/160-2.png b/12306-h/images/160-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b12c3fc --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/160-2.png diff --git a/12306-h/images/161-1.png b/12306-h/images/161-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1e85bd2 --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/161-1.png diff --git a/12306-h/images/161-2.png b/12306-h/images/161-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..aff8955 --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/161-2.png diff --git a/12306-h/images/162.png b/12306-h/images/162.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c09624c --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/162.png diff --git a/12306-h/images/163.png b/12306-h/images/163.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..229c1f0 --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/163.png diff --git a/12306-h/images/165.png b/12306-h/images/165.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f889c5b --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/165.png diff --git a/12306-h/images/166.png b/12306-h/images/166.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5c07b7b --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/166.png diff --git a/12306-h/images/167.png b/12306-h/images/167.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..02e3a1a --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/167.png diff --git a/12306-h/images/168-1.png b/12306-h/images/168-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ac7880 --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/168-1.png diff --git a/12306-h/images/168-2.png b/12306-h/images/168-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1eb439d --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/168-2.png diff --git a/12306-h/images/168-3.png b/12306-h/images/168-3.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0fd48ce --- /dev/null +++ b/12306-h/images/168-3.png |
