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diff --git a/old/12306.txt b/old/12306.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..383b076 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12306.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1667 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 99, +October 4, 1890, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 99, October 4, 1890 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: May 9, 2004 [EBook #12306] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Punch, or the London Charivari, William +Flis, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +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 L1000 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 L3000, but that "to save any more blooming + trouble," he would be willing to take the prize of L1000 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 Elysee 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 _entree_. And now, +_houp-la!_ 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 Hotel 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-a-manger_, there to discuss the twenty-five +courses of his simple _dejeuner a 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 _Cafe +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." _Denoument_ +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 _a 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 +mediaeval + +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 revant a 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 Chateau. 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 plenipotentiare 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 _elite_ 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 Seleny_. Mix this with a situation from _Le Monde +ou 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 Caesar!_ + + * * * * * + +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. 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