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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:40:01 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:40:01 -0700 |
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diff --git a/12468-h/12468-h.htm b/12468-h/12468-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f64b3a1 --- /dev/null +++ b/12468-h/12468-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2083 @@ +<!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 25, 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 12468 ***</div> + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 99.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>October 25, 1890.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page193" + id="page193"></a>[pg 193]</span> + + <h2>MR. PUNCH'S PRIZE NOVELS.</h2> + + <h3>No. IV.—BOB SILLIMERE.</h3> + + <h4>(<i>By Mrs.</i> HUMPHRY JOHN WARD PREACHER, <i>Author of + "Master Sisterson."</i>)</h4> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>[On the paper in which the MS. of this novel was + wrapped, the following note was written in a bold feminine + hand:—"This is a highly religious story. GEORGE ELIOT + was unable to write properly about religion. The novel is + certain to be well reviewed. It is calculated to adorn the + study-table of a Bishop. The £1000 prize must be + handed over at once to the Institute which is to be founded + to encourage new religions in the alleys of St. + Pancras.—H.J.W.P."]</p> + </blockquote> + + <h4>CHAPTER I.</h4> + + <p>It was evening—evening in Oxford. There are evenings + in other places occasionally. Cambridge sometimes puts forward + weak imitations. But, on the whole, there are no evenings which + have so much of the true, inward, mystic spirit as Oxford + evenings. A solemn hush broods over the grey quadrangles, and + this, too, in spite of the happy laughter of the undergraduates + playing touch last on the grass-plots, and leaping, like a + merry army of marsh-dwellers, each over the back of the other, + on their way to the deeply impressive services of their + respective college chapels. Inside, the organs were pealing + majestically, in response to the deft fingers of many highly + respectable musicians, and all the proud traditions, the + legendary struggles, the well-loved examinations, the + affectionate memories of generations of proctorial officers, + the innocent rustications, the warning appeals of authoritative + Deans—all these seemed gathered together into one last + loud trumpet-call, as a tall, impressionable youth, carrying + with him a spasm of feeling, a Celtic temperament, a moved, + flashing look, and a surplice many sizes too large for him, + dashed with a kind of quivering, breathless sigh, into the + chapel of St. Boniface's just as the porter was about to close + the door. This was ROBERT, or, as his friends lovingly called + him, BOB SILLIMERE. His mother had been an Irish lady, full of + the best Irish humour; after a short trial, she was, however, + found to be a superfluous character, and as she began to + develop differences with CATHERINE, she caught an acute + inflammation of the lungs, and died after a few days, in the + eleventh chapter.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:45%;"> + <a href="images/193.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/193.png" + alt="Squire Murewell and Bob Sillimere." /></a> + </div> + + <p>BOB sat still awhile, his agitation soothed by the + comforting sense of the oaken seat beneath him. At school he + had been called by his school-fellows "the Knitting-needle," a + remarkable example of the well-known fondness of boys for + sharp, short nicknames; but this did not trouble him now. He + and his eagerness, his boundless curiosity, and his lovable + mistakes, were now part and parcel of the new life of + Oxford—new to him, but old as the ages, that, with their + rhythmic recurrent flow, like the pulse of—[<i>Two pages + of fancy writing are here omitted.</i> ED.] BRIGHAM and BLACK + were in chapel, too. They were Dons, older than BOB, but his + intimate friends. They had but little belief, but BLACK often + preached, and BRIGHAM held undecided views on life and + matrimony, having been brought up in the cramped atmosphere of + a middle-class parlour. At Oxford, the two took pupils, and + helped to shape BOB's life. Once BRIGHAM had pretended, as an + act or pure benevolence, to be a Pro-Proctor, but as he had a + sardonic scorn, and a face which could become a marble mask, + the Vice-Chancellor called upon him to resign his position, and + he never afterwards repeated the experiment.</p> + + <h4>CHAPTER II.</h4> + + <p>One evening BOB was wandering dreamily on the banks of the + Upper River. He sat down, and thought deeply. Opposite to him + was a wide green expanse dotted with white patches of geese. + There and then, by the gliding river, with a mass of reeds and + a few poplars to fill in the landscape, he determined to become + a clergyman. How strange that he should never have thought of + this before; how sudden it was; how wonderful! But the die was + cast; <i>alea jacta est</i>, as he had read yesterday in an + early edition of St. Augustine; and, when BOB rose, there was a + new brightness in his eye, and a fresh springiness in his + steps. And at that moment the deep bell of St. + Mary's—[<i>Three pages omitted.</i> ED.]</p> + + <h4>CHAPTER III.</h4> + + <p>And thus BOB was ordained, and, having married CATHERINE, he + accepted the family living of Wendover, though not before he + had taken occasion to point out to BLACK that family livings + were corrupt and indefensible institutions. Still, the thing + had to be done; and bitterly as BOB pined for the bracing air + of the East End of London, he acknowledged, with one of his + quick, bright flashes, that, unless he went to Wendover, he + could never meet Squire MUREWELL, whose powerful arguments were + to drive him from positions he had never qualified himself, + except by an irrational enthusiasm, to defend. Of CATHERINE a + word must be said. Cold, with the delicate but austere firmness + of a Westmoreland daisy, gifted with fatally sharp lines about + the chin and mouth, and habitually wearing loose grey gowns, + with bodices to match, she was admirably calculated, with her + narrow, meat-tea proclivities, to embitter the amiable + SILLIMERE's existence, and to produce, in conjunction with him, + that storm and stress, that perpetual clashing of two estimates + without which no modern religious novel could be written, and + which not even her pale virginal grace of look and form could + subdue. That is a long sentence, but, ah! how short is a merely + mortal sentence, with its tyrannous full stop, against the + immeasurable background of the December stars, by whose light + BOB was now walking, with heightened colour, along the vast + avenue that led to Wendover Hall, the residence of the ogre + Squire.</p> + + <h4>CHAPTER IV.</h4> + + <p>The Squire was at home. On the door-step BOB was greeted by + Mrs. FARCEY, the Squire's sister. She looked at him in her + bird-like way. At other times she was elf-like, and played + tricks with a lace handkerchief.</p> + + <p>"You know," she whispered to BOB, "we're all mad here. I'm + mad, and he," she continued, bobbing diminutively towards the + Squire's study-door, "he's mad too—as mad as a + hatter."</p> + + <p>Before BOB had time to answer this strange remark, the + study-door flew open, and Squire MUREWELL stepped forth. He + rapped out an oath or two, which BOB noticed with faint + politeness, and ordered his visitor to enter. The Squire was + rough—very rough; but he had studied hard in Germany.</p> + + <p>"So you're the young fool," he observed, "who intends to + tackle me. Ha, ha, that's a good joke. I'll have you round my + little finger in two twos. Here," he went on gruffly, "take + this book of mine in your right hand. Throw your eyes up to the + ceiling." ROBERT, wishing to conciliate him, did as he desired. + The eyes stuck there, and looked down with a quick lovable look + on the two men below. "Now," said the Squire, "you can't see. + Pronounce the word 'testimony' twice, slowly. Think of a + number, multiply by four, subtract the Thirty-nine Articles, + add a Sunday School and a packet of buns. Result, you're a + freethinker." And with that he bowed BOB out of the room.</p> + + <h4>CHAPTER V.</h4> + + <p>A terrible storm was raging in the Rector's breast as he + strode, regardless of the cold, along the verdant lanes of + Wendover. "Fool that I was!" he muttered, pressing both hands + convulsively to his sides. "Why did I not pay more attention to + arithmetic at school? I could have crushed him, but I was + ignorant. Was that result right?" He reflected awhile + mournfully, but he could bring it out in no other way. "I must + go through with it to the bitter end," he concluded, "and + CATHERINE must be told." But the thought of CATHERINE knitting + quietly at home, while she read Fox's <i>Book of Martyrs</i>, + with a tender smile on her thin lips, unmanned him. He sobbed + bitterly. The front-door of the Rectory was open. He walked + in.—The rest is soon told. He resigned the Rectory, and + made a brand-new religion. CATHERINE frowned, but it was + useless. Thereupon she gave him cold bacon for lunch during a + whole fortnight, and the brave young soul which had endured so + much withered under this blight. And thus, acknowledging the + novelist's artistic necessity, ROBERT died.—[THE + END.]</p> + <hr /> + + <p>WINTER SEASON AT COVENT GARDEN.—Opening of Italian + Opera last Saturday, with <i>Aida</i>. Very well done. "Wait" + between Second and Third Act too long: "Waiters" in Gallery + whistling. Wind whistling, too, in Stalls. Operatic and + rheumatic. Rugs and fur capes might be kept on hire by + Stall-keepers. Airs in <i>Aida</i> delightful: draughts in + Stalls awful. Signor LAGO called before Curtain to receive + First Night congratulations. Signor LAGO ought to do good + business "in front," as there's evidently no difficulty in + "raising the wind."</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page194" + id="page194"></a>[pg 194]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/194.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/194.png" + alt="" /></a> + + <h3>"L'ONION FAIT LA FORCE."</h3><i>John Bull</i>. "NOW, MY + DEAR LITTLE PORTUGAL, AS YOU ARE STRONG BE WISE, OR YOU'LL + GET YOURSELF INTO A PRETTY PICKLE!" + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE FIRE KING AND HIS FRIENDS.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>With acknowledgments to Monk Lewis and the Authors of + "Rejected Addresses."</i>)</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>"No hardship would be inflicted upon manufacturers, if + dangerous trades in general were subjected to such a + supervision as would afford the largest attainable measure + of security to all engaged in them. The case is one which + urgently demands the consideration of Parliament, not only + for the protection of work-people, but even for the + protection of the Metropolis itself. It should never be + forgotten that fire constitutes the gravest risk to which + London is exposed."—<i>The Times</i>.</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The Fire King one day rather furious felt,</p> + + <p class="i2">He mounted his steam-horse satanic;</p> + + <p>Its head and its tail were of steel, with a belt</p> + + <p>Of riveted boiler-plate proved not to melt</p> + + <p class="i2">With heat howsoever volcanic.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The sight of the King with that flame-face of + his</p> + + <p class="i2">Was something exceedingly horrid;</p> + + <p>The rain, as it fell on his flight, gave a fizz</p> + + <p>Like unbottled champagne, and went off with a + whizz</p> + + <p class="i2">As it sprinkled his rubicund + forehead.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The sound of his voice as he soared to the sky</p> + + <p class="i2">Was that of a ghoul with the + grumbles.</p> + + <p>His teeth were so hot, and his tongue was so + dry,</p> + + <p>That his shout seemed us raucous as though one + should try</p> + + <p>To play on a big drum with dumb-bells.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>From his nostrils a naphthaline odour outflows,</p> + + <p class="i2">In his trail a petroleum-whiff + lingers.</p> + + <p>With crude nitro-glycerine glitter his hose,</p> + + <p>Suggestions of dynamite hang round his nose,</p> + + <p class="i2">And gunpowder grimeth his + fingers.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page195" + id="page195"></a>[pg 195]</span> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>His hair is of flame fizzing over his head,</p> + + <p class="i2">As likewise his heard and eye-lashes;</p> + + <p>His drink's "low-test naphtha," his nag, it is + said,</p> + + <p>Eats flaming tow soaked in combustibles dread,</p> + + <p class="i2">Which hot from the manger he gnashes.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The Fire King set spurs to the steed he + bestrode,</p> + + <p class="i2">Intent to mix pleasure with profit.</p> + + <p>He was off to Vine Street in the Farringdon + Road,</p> + + <p>And soon with the flames of fired naphtha it + flowed</p> + + <p class="i2">As though 'twere the entry to Tophet.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>He sought HARROD's Stores whence soon issued a + blast</p> + + <p class="i2">Of oil-flame that lighted the City</p> + + <p>Then he turned to Cloth Fair. Hold, my Muse! not too + fast!</p> + + <p>On the Fire King's last victims in silence we'll + cast</p> + + <p class="i2">A look of respectfullest pity.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But the Fire King flames on; Now he pulls up to + snatch</p> + + <p class="i2">Some fodder. The stable's in danger.</p> + + <p>His whip is a torch, and each spur is a match,</p> + + <p>And over the horse's left eye is a patch,</p> + + <p class="i2">To keep it from scorching the manger.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But who is the Ostler, and who is his lad,</p> + + <p class="i2">In fodder-supplying alliance,</p> + + <p>Who feed the Fire King and his Steed? 'Tis too + bad</p> + + <p>That TRADE should feed Fire, and his henchman seem + glad</p> + + <p class="i2">To set wholesome Law at defiance.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>See, Trade stocks the manger, and there is the + pail</p> + + <p class="i2">Full set by the imp Illegality!</p> + + <p>That fierce fiery Pegasus thus to regale,</p> + + <p>When he's danger and death from hot head to + flame-tail,</p> + + <p class="i2">Is cruelly callous brutality.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Ah, Justice looks stern, and, indeed, well she + may,</p> + + <p class="i2">With such a vile vision before her.</p> + + <p>The ignipotent nag and its rider to stay</p> + + <p>In their dangerous course is her duty to-day,</p> + + <p class="i2">And to <i>do</i> it the public implore + her.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"By Jingo!" cries <i>Punch</i>, "you nefarious + Two,</p> + + <p class="i2">Your alliance humanity jars on!</p> + + <p>If you feed the Fire Fiend, with disaster in + view,</p> + + <p>And the chance of men's death, 'twere mere justice + to do</p> + + <p class="i2">To have you indicted for arson!"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/195.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/195.png" + alt="" /></a> + + <h3>FELICITOUS QUOTATIONS.</h3> + + <p>"OH, ROBERT, THE GROUSE HAS BEEN KEPT TOO LONG! I WONDER + YOU CAN EAT IT!"</p> + + <p>"MY DEAR, 'WE NEEDS MUST LOVE THE HIGHEST WHEN WE SEE + IT!'"</p> + + <p>(<i>Guinevere.</i>)</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>VOCES POPULI.</h2> + + <h4>AT THE FRENCH EXHIBITION.</h4> + + <p><i>Chorus of Arab Stall-keepers.</i> Come and look! + Alaha-ba-li-boo! Eet is verri cold to-day! I-ah-rish Brandi! + 'Ere, <i>Miss</i>! you com' 'ere! No pay for lookin'. Alf a + price! Verri pritti, verri nah-ice, verri cheap, verri moch! + And so on.</p> + + <p><i>Chorus of British Saleswomen</i>. <i>Will</i> you allow + me to show you this little novelty, Sir? <i>'Ave</i> you seen + the noo perfume sprinkler? Do come and try this noo + puzzle—no 'arm in <i>lookin'</i>, Sir. Very nice little + novelties 'ere, Sir! 'Eard the noo French Worltz, Sir? every + article is really very much reduced, &c, &c.</p> + + <h4>AT THE FOLIES-BERGÈRE.</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE—<i>A hall in the grounds. Several turnstiles + leading to curtained entrances.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Showmen</i> (<i>shouting</i>). Amphitrite, the Marvellous + Floatin' Goddess. Just about to commence! This way for the + Mystic Gallery—three Illusions for threepence! Atalanta, + the Silver Queen of the Moon; the Oriental Beauty in the Table + of the Sphinx, and the Wonderful Galatea, or Pygmalion's Dream. + Only threepence! This way for the Mystic Marvel o' She! Now + commencing!</p> + + <p><i>A Female Sightseer</i> (<i>with the air of a person + making an original suggestion</i>). Shall we go in, just to see + what it's like?</p> + + <p><i>Male Ditto</i>. May as well, now we <i>are</i> 'ere. + (<i>To preserve himself from any suspicion of credulity.</i>) + Sure to be a take-in o' some sort.</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>They enter a dim apartment, in which two or three + people are leaning over a barrier in front of a small + Stage; the Curtain is lowered, and a Pianist is + industriously pounding away at a Waltz</i>.</p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>The F.S.</i> (<i>with an uncomfortable giggle</i>). Not + much to see <i>so</i> far, is there?</p> + + <p><i>Her Companion</i>. Well, they ain't begun yet.</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>The Waltz ends, and the Curtain rises, disclosing a + Cavern Scene.</i> Amphitrite, <i>in blue tights, rises + through the floor.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Amphitrite</i> (<i>in the Gallic tongue</i>). Mesdarms et + Messures, j'ai 'honnoor de vous sooayter le bong jour! + (<i>Floats, with no apparent support, in the air, and performs + various graceful evolutions, concluding by reversing herself + completely</i>). Bong swore, Mesdarms et messures, mes + remercimongs!</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>She dives below, and the Curtain descends.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>The F.S.</i> Is that all? I don't see nothing in + <i>that</i>!</p> + + <p><i>Her Comp.</i> (<i>who, having paid for admission, resents + this want of appreciation</i>). Why, she was off the ground the + 'ole of the time, wasn't she? I'd just like to see <i>you</i> + turnin' and twisting about in the air as easy as she did with + nothing to 'old on by!</p> + + <p><i>The F.S.</i> I didn't notice she was off the + ground—yes, that <i>was</i> clever. I never thought o' + that before. Let's go and see the other things now.</p> + + <p><i>Her Comp.</i> Well, if you don't see nothing surprising + in 'em till they're all over, you might as well stop outside, + <i>I</i> should ha' thought.</p> + + <p><i>The F.S.</i> Oh, but I'll notice more next + time—you've got to get <i>used</i> to these things, you + know.</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>They enter the Mystic Gallery, and find themselves + in a dim passage, opposite a partitioned compartment, in + which is a glass case, supported on four pedestals, with a + silver crescent at the back. The Illusions—to judge + from a sound of scurrying behind the scenes—have + apparently been taken somewhat unawares.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>The Female Sightseer</i> (<i>anxious to please</i>). + They've done that 'alf-moon very well, haven't they?</p> + + <p><i>Voice of Showman</i> (<i>addressing the Illusions</i>). + Now then, 'urry up there—we're all waiting for you.</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>The face of "Atalanta, the Silver Queen of the + Moon," appears, strongly illuminated, inside the glass-box, + and regards the spectators with an impassive + contempt—greatly to their confusion.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>The Male S.</i> (<i>in a propitiatory tone</i>). Not a + bad-looking girl, is she? <i>Atalanta, the Queen of the Moon + (to the Oriental Beauty in next + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page196" + id="page196"></a>[pg 196]</span> compartment</i>). Polly, + when these people are gone, I wish you'd fetch me my + work!</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>The Sightseers move on, feeling crushed. In the + second compartment the upper portion of a female is + discovered, calmly knitting in the centre of a small table, + the legs of which are distinctly visible.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>The Female S.</i> Why, wherever has the <i>rest</i> of + her got to?</p> + + <p><i>The Oriental Beauty</i> (<i>with conscious + superiority</i>). That's what you've got to find out.</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>They pass on to interview "Galatea, or Pygmalion's + Dream," whose compartment is as yet enveloped in + obscurity.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>A Youthful Showman</i> (<i>apparently on familiar terms + with all the Illusions</i>). Ladies and Gentlemen, I shell now + 'ave the honour of persentin' to you the wonderful Galatear, or + Livin' Statue; you will 'ave an oppertoonity of 'andling the + bust for yourselves, which will warm before your eyes into + living flesh, and the lovely creecher live and speak. 'Ere, + look sharp, carn't yer'! [<i>To</i> Galatea.</p> + + <p><i>Pygmalion's Dream</i> (<i>from the mystic gloom</i>). + Wait a bit, till I've done warming my 'ands. Now you can turn + the lights up ... there, you've bin and turned 'em <i>out</i> + now, stoopid!</p> + + <p><i>The Y.S.</i> Don't you excite yourself. I know what I'm + doin'.</p> + + <p>(<i>Turns the lights up, and reveals a large terra-cotta + Bust.</i>) At my request, this young lydy will now perceed to + assoom the yew and kimplexion of life itself. Galatear, will + you oblige us by kindly coming to life?</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>The Bust vanishes, and is replaced by a decidedly + earthly Young Woman in robust health.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>The Y.S.</i> Thenk you. That's all I wanted of yer. Now, + will you kindly return to your former styte?</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>The Young Woman transforms herself into a hideous + Skull.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>The Y.S.</i> (<i>in a tone of remonstrance</i>). + No—no, not that ridiklous fice! We don't want to see what + yer will be—it's very <i>loike</i> yer, I know, but + still—(<i>The Skull changes to the Bust.</i>) Ah, that's + more the stoyle! (<i>Takes the Bust by the neck and hands it + round for inspection.</i>) And now, thenking you for your kind + attention, and on'y orskin' one little fyvour of you, that is, + that you will not reveal 'ow it is done, I will now bid you a + very good evenin', Lydies and Gentlemen!</p> + + <p><i>The F.S.</i> (<i>outside</i>). It's wonderful how they + can do it all for threepence, isn't it? We haven't seen + <i>She</i> yet!</p> + + <p><i>Her Comp.</i> What, 'aven't you seen wonders enough? Come + on, then. But you <i>are</i> going it, you know!</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>They enter a small room, at the further end of which + are a barrier and proscenium with drawn hangings.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>The Exhibitor</i> (<i>in a confidential tone, punctuated + by bows</i>). I will not keep you waiting, Ladies and + Gentlemen, but at once proceed with a few preliminary remarks. + Most of you, no doubt, have read that celebrated story by Mr. + RIDER HAGGARD, about a certain <i>She-who-must-be-obeyed</i>, + and who dwelt in a place called Kôr, and you will also + doubtless remember how she was in the 'abit of repairing, at + certain intervals, to a cavern, and renooing her youth in a + fiery piller. On one occasion, wishing to indooce her lover to + foller her example, she stepped into the flame to encourage + him—something went wrong with the works, and she was + instantly redooced to a cinder. I fortunately 'appened to be + near at the time (you will escuse a little wild fib from a + showman, I'm sure!) I 'appened to be porsin by, and was thus + enabled to secure the ashes of the Wonderful She, + which—(<i>draws hangings and reveals a shallow metal Urn + suspended in the centre of scene</i>), are now before you + enclosed in that little urn. She—where are you?</p> + + <p><i>She</i> (<i>in a full sweet voice, from below</i>). I am + 'ere!</p> + + <p><i>Showman</i>. Then appear!</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>The upper portion of an exceedingly comely Young + Person emerges from the mouth of the Urn.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>The F.S.</i> (<i>startled</i>). Lor, she give me quite a + turn!</p> + + <p><i>Showman</i>. Some people think this is all done by + mirrors, but it is not so; it is managed by a simple + arrangement of light and shade. She will now turn slowly round, + to convince you that she is really inside the urn and not + merely beyind it. (She <i>turns round condescendingly.</i>) She + will next pass her 'ands completely round her, thereby + demonstrating the utter impossibility of there being any wires + to support her. Now she will rap on the walls on each side of + her, proving to you that she is no reflection, but a solid + reality, after which she will tap the bottom of the urn beneath + her, so that you may see it really is what it purports to be. + (She <i>performs all these actions in the most obliging + manner</i>.) She will now disappear for a moment. (She <i>sinks + into the Urn.</i>) Are you still there, She?</p> + + <p><i>She</i> (<i>from the recess of the Urn</i>). Yes.</p> + + <p><i>Showman</i>. Then will you give us some sign of your + presence! (<i>A hand and arm are protruded, and waved + gracefully.</i>) Thank you. Now you can come up again. (She + <i>re-appears.</i>) She will now answer any questions any lady + or gentleman may like to put to her, always provided you won't + ask her how it is done—for I'm sure she wouldn't give me + away, <i>would</i> you, She?</p> + + <p><i>She</i> (<i>with a slow bow and gracious smile</i>). + Certingly not.</p> + + <p><i>The F.S.</i> (<i>to her Companion</i>). Ask her + something—do.</p> + + <p><i>Her Comp.</i> Go on! <i>I</i> ain't got anything to ask + her—ask her yourself!</p> + + <p><i>A Bolder Spirit</i> (<i>with interest</i>). Are your + <i>feet</i> warm?</p> + + <p><i>She</i>. Quite—thanks.</p> + + <p><i>The Showman</i>. How old are you, She?</p> + + <p><i>She</i> (<i>impressively</i>). Two theousand years.</p> + + <p><i>'Arry.</i> And quite a young thing, too!</p> + + <p><i>A Spectator</i> (<i>who has read the Novel</i>). 'Ave you + 'eard from LEO VINCEY lately?</p> + + <p><i>She</i> (<i>coldly</i>). I don't know the gentleman.</p> + + <p><i>Showman</i>. If you have no more questions to ask her, + She will now retire into her urn, thanking you all for your + kind attendance this morning, which will conclude the + entertainment.</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Final disappearance of</i> She. <i>The Audience pass + out, feeling—with perfect justice—that they + have "had their money's worth."</i></p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <h2>HOW IT'S DONE.</h2> + + <h4><i>A Hand-book of Honesty.</i></h4> + + <h3>No. III.—GRANDMOTHERLY GOVERNMENT.</h3> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE I.—<i>St. Stephen's.</i> Sagacious + Legislator <i>on his legs advocating a new + Anti-Adulteration Act. Few M.P.'s present, most of them + drowsing</i>.</p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Sagacious Legislator</i>. As I was saying, Sir, the + adulteration of Butter has been pushed to such abominable + lengths that no British Workman knows whether what he is eating + is the product of the Cow or of the Thames mud-banks. (<i>A + snigger.</i>) Talk of a Free Breakfast Table! I would free the + Briton's Breakfast Table from the unwholesome incubus of + Adulteration. At any rate, if the customer chooses to purchase + butter which is <i>not</i> butter, he shall do it knowingly, + with his eyes open. (<i>Feeble "Hear, hear!"</i>) Under this + Act anything which is not absolutely unsophisticated milk-made + Butter must be plainly marked, and openly vended as + Adipocerene!</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/196.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/196.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Amidst considerable applause the Act is + passed.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE II.—<i>Small Butterman's shop in a poor + neighbourhood. Burly white-apron'd Proprietor behind + counter. To him enter a pasty-faced Workman, with a greasy + pat of something wrapped in a leaf from a ledger.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Workman.</i> I say, Guv'nor, lookye here. This 'ere stuff + as you sold my old woman, is simply beastly. I don't believe + it's butter at all.</p> + + <p><i>Butterman</i> (<i>sneeringly</i>). And who said it + <i>was</i>? What did your Missus buy it as?</p> + + <p><i>Workman</i>. Why, Adipo—whot's it, I believe. But + that's only another name for butter of a cheaper sort, ain't + it? Anyhow, it's no reason why it should be nasty.</p> + + <p><i>Butterman</i> (<i>loftily</i>). Now look here, my man, + what do you expect? That's Adipocerene, that is, and <i>sold as + such</i>. If you'll pay for Butter, you can have it; but if you + ask for this here stuff, you must take yer chance.</p> + + <p><i>Workman</i>. But what's it made on?</p> + + <p><i>Butterman</i>. That's no business of mine. If you could + anerlyse it—(mind, I don't say yer + <i>could</i>)—into stale suet and sewer-scrapings, you + couldn't prove as it warn't Adipocerene, same as it's sold for, + could yer?</p> + + <p><i>Workman</i> (<i>hotly</i>). But hang it, I don't + <i>want</i> stale suet and sewer-scrapings, whatsomever you may + call it.</p> + + <p><i>Butterman</i> (<i>decisively</i>). Then buy Butter, and + <i>pay</i> for it like a man, and don't come a-bothering me + about things as I've nothink to do with. If Guv'ment + <i>will</i> have it called Adipocerene, and your Missus + <i>will</i> buy it becos it's cheap; don't you blame <i>me</i> + if you find it nasty, that's all. Good morning!</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Retires up, "swelling visibly."</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Workman</i>. Humph! Betwixt Grandmotherly Government and + Manufacturers of Mysteriousness, where <i>am</i> I? That's wot + I want to know! [<i>Left wanting to know.</i></p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page197" + id="page197"></a>[pg 197]</span> + + <h2>TO ENGELBERG AND BACK.</h2> + + <h4><i>Being a few Notes taken en route in search of a Perfect + Cure.</i></h4> + + <p>The Engineers who constructed the gradually ascending road + which, slowly mounting the valley, finally takes you over the + ridge, as it were, and deposits you at a height of 3800 feet, + dusty but grateful, on the plain of Engelberg, must have been + practical jokers of the first water. They lead you up in the + right direction several thousand feet, then suddenly turn you + round, and apparently take you clean back again. And this not + once, but a dozen times. They seem to say, "You think you must + reach the top <i>this</i> time, my fine fellow? Not a bit of + it. Back you go again."</p> + + <p>Still we kept turning and turning whither the + Practical-joking Engineers led us, but seemed as far off from + our journey's end as ever. A roadside inn for a moment deluded + us with its light, but we only drew up in front of this while + our gloomy charioteer sat down to a good square meal, the third + he had had since three o'clock, over which he consumed exactly + five-and-twenty minutes, keeping us waiting while he disposed + of it at his leisure, in a fit of depressing but greedy + sulks.</p> + + <p>At length we moved on again, and in about another + half-an-hour apparently reached the limit of the + Practical-joking Engineers' work, for our surly charioteer + suddenly jumped on the box, and cracking his whip furiously, + got all the pace that was left in them out of our three + sagacious horses, and in a few more minutes we were tearing + along a level road past scattered <i>châlets</i>, little + wooden toy-shops, and isolated <i>pensions</i>, towards a + colossal-looking white palace that stood out a grateful sight + in the distance before us, basking in the calm white-blue blaze + shed upon it from a couple of lofty electric lights, that told + us that up here in the mountains we were not coming to rough + it, but to be welcomed by the latest luxuries and refinements + of first-rate modern hotel accommodation. And this proved to be + the case. Immediately he arrived in the large entrance-hall, + the Dilapidated One was greeted by the Landlord of the Hotel et + Kurhaus, Titlis, politely assisted to the lift, and finally + deposited in the comfortable and electrically-lighted room + which had been assigned to him.</p> + + <p>"We are extremely full," announced the polite Herr to Dr. + MELCHISIDEC; "and we just come from finishing the second + dinner,"—which seemed to account for his being "extremely + full,"—"but as soon as you will descend from your rooms, + there will be supper ready at your disposition."</p> + + <p>"You'll just come and look at the Bath-chair before you turn + in?" inquired Dr. MELCHISIDEC, of the Dilapidated One, "It's + arrived all right from Zurich. Come by post, apparently."</p> + + <p>"Oh, that's nothing," continued young JERRYMAN, "why, + there's nothing you can't send by post in Switzerland, from a + house full of furniture, down to a grand piano or cage of + canaries. You've only got to clap a postage-stamp on it, and + there you are!" And the arrival of the Bath-chair certainly + seemed to indicate that he was telling something very like the + truth.</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:45%;"> + <a href="images/197-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/197-1.png" + alt="" /></a>The Trick Chair. + </div> + + <p>"I don't quite see how this guiding-wheel is to act," + remarked Dr. MELCHISIDEC, examining the chair, which was of + rather pantomimic proportions, critically; "but suppose you + just get in and try it! 'Pon my word it almost looks like a + 'trick-chair'!" which indeed it proved itself to be, jerking up + in a most unaccountable fashion the moment the Dilapidated One + put his foot into it, and unceremoniously sending him flying + out on to his head forthwith. "A little awkward at first," he + remarked, assisting the Dilapidated One on to his feet. "One + has to get accustomed to these things, you see; but, bless you, + in a day or two you won't want it at all. You'll find the air + here like a continual draught of champagne. 'Pon my word, I + believe you feel better already," and with this inspiriting + assurance the Dilapidated One, who had not only covered himself + with dust, but severely bruised his shins, saying that "he + thought, perhaps, he did—just a little," was again + assisted to the lift, and safely consigned to his room, where + he was comfortably packed away for the night.</p> + + <p>"I say," says young JERRYMAN, next morning, "what a place + for bells!"</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:45%;"> + <a href="images/197-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/197-2.png" + alt="" /></a>A Peripatetic Peal. + </div> + + <p>And young JERRYMAN was right, for I was awoke in the small + hours of the morning by a loud peal from the Monastery, as if + the Prior had suddenly said to himself, "What's the use of the + bells if you don't ring 'em? By Jove, I will!" and had then and + there jumped from his couch, seized hold of the ropes, and set + to work with a right good will. Then the hotels and + <i>pensions</i> took it up, and so, what with seven o'clock, + eight o'clock, and nine o'clock breakfasts, first and second + <i>déjeuners</i>, first and second dinners, interspersed + with "Office Hours" sounded by the Monastery, and the sound of + the dinner-bells carried by the cattle, Dingle-berg, rather + than Engelberg, would be a highly appropriate name for this + somewhat noisy, but otherwise delightful health-resort.</p> + + <p>"I call this 'fatal dull' after Paris," remarked a fair + Americaine to young JERRYMAN; and, perhaps, from a certain + point of view, she may have been right; but, fatal dull, or + lively, there can be no two opinions about the life-giving + properties of the air.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>OLD JOE ENCORE.—Last Wednesday in the FARRAR <i>v.</i> + Publisher discussion, a Correspondent, signing himself JOHN + TAYLOR, of Dagnall Park, Selhurst, wrote to <i>The Times</i> to + "quote an anecdote" about DOUGLAS JERROLD and "a Publisher." + Rarely has a good old story been so spoilt in the telling as in + this instance. The true story is of ALBERT SMITH and DOUGLAS + JERROLD, and has been already told in the <i>Times</i> by a + Correspondent signing himself "E.Y." It is of the same + respectable age as that one of ALBERT SMITH signing his + initials "A.S.," and JERROLD observing, "He only tells + two-thirds of the truth." Perhaps Mr. JOHN TAYLOR, of Dagnall + Park, Selhurst, is going to favour us with a little volume of + "new sayings by old worthies" at Christmas time, and we shall + hear how SHERIDAN once asked TOM B—— "why a miller + wore a white hat?" And how ERSKINE, on hearing a witness's + evidence about a door being open, explained to him that his + evidence would be worthless, because a door could not be + considered as a door "if it were a jar," and several other + excellent stories, which, being told for the first time with + the <i>verve</i> and local colouring of which the writer of the + letter to <i>The Times</i> is evidently a past-master, will + secure for the little work an enormous popularity.</p> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p>A SCOTT AND A LOT.—"Thirty Years at the Play" is the + title of Mr. CLEMENT SCOTT's Lecture to be delivered next + Saturday at the Garrick Theatre, for the benefit of the Actors' + Benevolent Fund. Thirty years of Play-time! All play, and lots + of work. Mr. IRVING is to introduce the lecturer to his + audience, who, up to that moment, will have been "Strangers + Yet," and this CLEMENT will be SCOTT-free to say what he likes, + and to tell 'em all about it generally. "SCOTT" will be on the + stage, and the "Lot" in the auditorium. Lot's Wife also.</p> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p>ETHER-DRINKING IN IRELAND.—Mr. ERNEST HART (bless his + heart and earnestness!) lectured last week on "Ether-Drinking + in Ireland." He lectured "The Society for the Study of + Inebriety"—a Society which must be slightly + "mixed"—on this bad habit, and no doubt implored them to + give it up. The party sang, "<i>How Happy could we be with + Ether</i>" and the discussion was continued until there was + nothing more to be said.</p> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p>CLERGY IN PARLIAMENT.—As Bishops "sit" in the Upper + House, why should not "the inferior clergy" "stand" for the + Lower House? If they get in, why shouldn't they be seated? + Surely what's right in the Bishop isn't wrong in the + Rector?</p> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p>LITERARY ADVERTISEMENT.—The forthcoming work by the + Vulnerable Archdeacon F-RR-R, will be entitled, <i>The + Pharrarsee and the Publisher</i>.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page198" + id="page198"></a>[pg 198]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/198.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/198.png" + alt="" /></a> + + <h3>"TRAIN UP A CHILD," &c.</h3> + + <p><i>Enter Fair Daughter of the House with the Village + Carpenter</i>. "MAMMA, YOU ALWAYS TOLD ME THAT KIND HEARTS + WERE MORE THAN CORONETS, AND SIMPLE FAITH THAN NORMAN + BLOOD, AND ALL THAT?"</p> + + <p><i>Lady Clara Robinson</i> (<i>née Vere de + Vere</i>). "CERTAINLY DEAR, <i>MOST</i> CERTAINLY!"</p> + + <p><i>Fair Daughter</i>. "WELL, I'VE ALWAYS BELIEVED YOU; + AND JIM BRADAWL HAS ASKED ME TO BE HIS WIFE, AND I'VE + ACCEPTED HIM. WE'VE ALWAYS LOVED EACH OTHER SINCE YOU LET + US PLAY TOGETHER AS CHILDREN!"</p> + + <p class="i4">[<i>Her Ladyship forgets, for once, the + repose that stamps her caste.</i></p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE McGLADSTONE;</h2> + + <h3>OR, BLOWING THE BUGLE.</h3> + + <h4><i>(Fragments from the latest (Midlothian) version of "The + Lord of the Isles."</i>)</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>McGLADSTONE rose—his pallid cheek</p> + + <p>Was little wont his joy to speak,</p> + + <p class="i2">But then his colour rose.</p> + + <p>"Now, Scotland! shortly shalt thou see</p> + + <p>That age checks not McGLADSTONE's glee,</p> + + <p class="i2">Nor stints his swashing blows!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Again that light has fired his eye,</p> + + <p>Again his form swells bold and high;</p> + + <p>The broken voice of age is gone,</p> + + <p>'Tis vigorous manhood's lofty tone.</p> + + <p>The foe he menaces again,</p> + + <p>Thrice vanquished on Midlothian's plain;</p> + + <p>Then, scorning any longer stay,</p> + + <p>Embarks, lifts sail, and bears away.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Merrily, merrily bounds the bark,</p> + + <p class="i2">She bounds before the gale;</p> + + <p>The "flowing tide" is with her. Hark!</p> + + <p class="i2">How joyous in her sail</p> + + <p>Flutters the breeze like laughter hoarse!</p> + + <p class="i2">The cords and canvas strain,</p> + + <p>The waves divided by her force</p> + + <p>In rippling eddies, chase her course.</p> + + <p class="i2">As if they laughed again.</p> + + <p>'Tis then that warlike signals wake</p> + + <p>Dalmeney's towers, and fair Beeslack.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And eke brave BALFOUR's walls (Q.C.</p> + + <p>And Scottish Dean of Faculty)</p> + + <p>Whose home shall house the great McG.</p> + + <p>A summons these to each stout clan</p> + + <p>That lives in far Midlothian,</p> + + <p class="i2">And, ready at the sight,</p> + + <p>Each warrior to his weapon sprung,</p> + + <p>And targe upon his shoulder flung,</p> + + <p class="i2">Impatient for the fight.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Merrily, merrily, bounds the bark</p> + + <p class="i2">On a breeze to the northward free.</p> + + <p>So shoots through the morning sky the lark,</p> + + <p class="i2">Or the swan through the summer sea.</p> + + <p>Merrily, merrily, goes the bark—</p> + + <p>Before the gale she bounds;</p> + + <p>So darts the dolphin from the shark,</p> + + <p>Or the deer before the hounds.</p> + + <p>McGLADSTONE stands upon the prow,</p> + + <p>The mountain breeze salutes his brow,</p> + + <p>He snuffs the breath of coming fight,</p> + + <p>His dark eyes blaze with battle-light,</p> + + <p class="i2">And memories of old,</p> + + <p>When thus he rallied to the fray</p> + + <p>Against the bold BUCCLEUCH's array,</p> + + <p>His clansmen. In the same old way</p> + + <p>He trusts to rally them to-day.</p> + + <p>Shall he succeed? Who, who shall say?</p> + + <p>But neither fear no doubt may stay</p> + + <p class="i2">His spirit keen and bold!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>He cries, the Chieftain Old and Grand,</p> + + <p>"I fight once more for mine own hand;</p> + + <p>Meanwhile our vessel nears the land,</p> + + <p>Launch we the boat, and seek the land!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>To land McGLADSTONE lightly sprung,</p> + + <p>And thrice aloud his bugle rung</p> + + <p>With note prolonged, and varied strain,</p> + + <p>Till Edin dun replied again.</p> + + <p>When waked that horn the party bounds,</p> + + <p>Scotia responded to its sounds;</p> + + <p>Oft had she heard it fire the fight,</p> + + <p>Cheer the pursuit, or stop the flight.</p> + + <p>Dead were her heart, and deaf her ear,</p> + + <p>If it should call, and she not hear.</p> + + <p>The shout went up in loud Clan-Rad's tone,</p> + + <p class="i2">"<i>That</i> blast was winded by + McGLADSTONE!"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>RUM FROM JAMAICA—VERY.—When "the bauble" was + removed from the table of the House, by order of OLIVER + CROMWELL, it was sent with somebody's compliments at a later + date to Jamaica, and placed on the Parliament table. What + became of it nobody knows. It is supposed that this ensign of + ancient British Royalty was swallowed up by an earthquake of + republican tendencies. Jamaica, of course, is a great place for + spices; but, in spite of all the highly spiced stories, the + origin of which is more or less aus-spice-ious, it is to be + regretted that, up to the present moment, what gave them their + peculiar flavour, <i>i.e.</i>, the original Mace, cannot be + found.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page199" + id="page199"></a>[pg 199]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/199.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/199.png" + alt="" /></a> + + <h3>THE McGLADSTONE!</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"TO LAND McGLADSTONE LIGHTLY SPRANG,</p> + + <p>AND THRICE ALOUD HIS BUGLE RANG</p> + + <p>WITH NOTE PROLONG'D AND VARIED STRAIN,</p> + + <p>TILL BOLD BEN-GHOIL REPLIED AGAIN."</p> + + <p class="i10"><i>"Lord of the Isles." Canto + IV.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page201" + id="page201"></a>[pg 201]</span> + + <h2>WANTED—-A SOCIETY FOR THE PROTECTION OF + "CELEBRITIES."</h2> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:30%;"> + <a href="images/201.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/201.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>When some years ago EDMUNDUS ED. MUNDI first introduced to + London the gentle art of Interviewing, the idea was in a + general way a novelty in this country. It "caught on," and + achieved success. Some public men affected, privately, not to + like the extra publicity given to their words and actions; but + it was only an affectation, and in a general way a great many + suddenly found themselves dubbed "Celebrities," hall-marked as + such by <i>The World</i>, and able therefore to hand themselves + down to posterity, in bound volumes containing this one + invaluable number as having been recognised by the world at + large as undoubted Celebrities, ignorance of whose existence + would argue utter social insignificance. So great was the + <i>World's</i> success in this particular line, that at once + there sprang up a host of imitators, and the Celebrities were + again tempted to make themselves still more celebrated by + having good-natured caricatures of themselves made by "Age" and + "Spy." After this, the deluge, of biographies, autobiographies, + interviewings, photographic realities, portraits plain and + coloured—many of them uncommonly plain, and some of them + wonderfully coloured,—until a Celebrity who has + <i>not</i> been done and served up, with or without a plate, is + a Celebrity indeed.</p> + + <p>"Celebrities" have hitherto been valuable to the + interviewer, photographer, and proprietor of a Magazine in due + proportion. Is it not high time that the Celebrities themselves + have a slice or two out of the cake? If they consent to sit as + models to the interviewer and photographer, let them price + their own time. The Baron offers a model of correspondence on + both sides, and, if his example is followed, up goes the price + of "Celebrities," and, consequently, of interviewed and + interviewers, there will be only a survival of the fittest.</p> + + <h4><i>From A. Sophte Soper to the Baron de + Book-Worms.</i></h4> + + <p>SIR,—Messrs. TOWER, FONDLER, TROTTING & Co., are + now engaged in bringing out a series of the leading Literary, + Dramatic and Artistic Notabilities of the present day, and + feeling that the work which has now reached its + hundred-and-second number, would indeed be incomplete did it + not include <i>your</i> name, the above-mentioned firm has + commissioned me to request you to accord me an interview as + soon as possible. I propose bringing with me an eminent + photographer, and also an artist who will make a sketch of your + surroundings, and so contribute towards producing a complete + picture which cannot fail to interest and delight the thousands + at home and abroad, to whom your name is as a household word, + and who will be delighted to possess a portrait of one whose + works have given them so much pleasure, and to obtain a closer + and more intimate acquaintance with the <i>modus operandi</i> + pursued by one of their most favourite authors.</p> + + <p>I remain, Sir, yours truly,</p> + + <p>A. SOPHTE SOPER.</p> + + <p><i>To the</i> BARON DE BOOK-WORMS, <i>Vermoulen + Lodge</i>.</p> + + <h4><i>From the Baron de Book-Worms to A. Sophte Soper, + Esq.</i></h4> + + <p>DEAB SIR,—Thanks. I quite appreciate your + appreciation. My terms for an article in a Magazine, are twenty + guineas the first hour, ten guineas the second, and so on. For + dinner-table anecdotes, the property in which once made public + is lost for ever to the originator, special terms. As to + photographs, I will sign every copy, and take twopence on every + copy. I'm a little pressed for time now, so if you can manage + it, we will defer the visit for a week or two, and then I'm + your man.</p> + + <p>Yours truly,</p> + + <p>BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.</p> + + <h4><i>Mr. A. Sophte Soper to the Baron de Book-Worms.</i></h4> + + <p>MY DEAR BARON,—I'm afraid I didn't quite make myself + understood. I did not ask <i>you</i> to write the article, + being commissioned by the firm to do it myself. The photographs + will not be sold apart from the Magazine. Awaiting your + favourable response,—</p> + + <p>I am, Sir, Yours,</p> + + <p>A. SOPHTE SOPER.</p> + + <h4><i>From the Baron to A. Sophte Soper.</i></h4> + + <p>DEAR SIR,—I <i>quite</i> understood. With the generous + view of doing me a good turn by giving me the almost + inestimable advantage of advertising myself in Messrs. TOWERS + & Co.'s widely-circulated Magazine, you propose to + interview me, and receive from me such orally given information + as you may require concerning my life, history, work, and + everything about myself which, in your opinion, would interest + the readers of this Magazine. I quite appreciate all this. You + propose to write the article, <i>and I'm to find you the + materials for it</i>. Good. I don't venture to put any price on + the admirable work which your talent will produce,—that's + for you and your publishers to settle between you, and, as a + matter of fact, it has been already settled, as you are in + their employ. But I <i>can</i> put a price on my own, and I do. + I collaborate with you in furnishing all the materials of which + you are in need. <i>Soit.</i> For the use of my Pegasus, no + matter what its breed, and, as it isn't a gift-horse, but a + hired one, you can examine its mouth and legs critically + whenever you are going to mount and guide it at your own sweet + will, <i>I charge twenty guineas for the first hour</i>, and + <i>ten for the second</i>. It may be dear, or it may be cheap. + That's not my affair. <i>C'est à laisser ou à + prendre.</i></p> + + <p>The Magazine in which the article is to appear is not given + away with a pound of tea, or anything of that sort I presume, + so that your strictly honourable and business-like firm of + employers, and you also, Sir, in the regular course of your + relations with them, intend making something out of me, more or + less, but something, while I get nothing at all for my time, + which is decidedly as valuable to me as, I presume, is yours to + you. What have your publishers ever done for me that I should + give them my work for nothing? Time is money; why should I make + Messrs. TOWER, FONDLER & Co. a present of twenty pounds, + or, for the matter of that, even ten shillings? If I + misapprehend the situation, and you are doing your work gratis + and for the love of the thing, then that is <i>your</i> affair, + not mine: I'm glad to hear it, and regret my inability to join + you in the luxury of giving away what it is an imperative + necessity of my existence to sell at the best price I can. Do + you honestly imagine, Sir, that my literary position will be + one farthing's-worth improved by a memoir and a portrait of me + appearing in your widely-circulated journal? If <i>you</i> do, + <i>I don't</i>; and I prefer to be paid for my work, whether I + dictate the material to a scribe, who is to serve it up in his + own fashion, or whether I write it myself. And now I come to + consider it, I should be inclined to make an additional charge + for <i>not</i> writing it myself, Not to take you and your + worthy firm of employers by surprise, I will make out + beforehand a supposititious bill, and then Messrs. TOWER & + Co. can close with my offer or not, as they please.</p> + + <table summary="Bill" + align="center" + width="80%"> + <tr> + <td></td> + + <td align="right">£.</td> + + <td align="right"><i>s.</i></td> + + <td align="right"><i>d</i>.</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left" + valign="top">To preparing (in special costume) to + receive Interviewer, for putting aside letters, + refusing to see tradesmen, &c.</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">3</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left" + valign="top">To receiving Interviewer, + Photographer, and Artist, and talking about nothing + in particular for ten minutes.</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">5</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left" + valign="top">To cigars and light refreshments all + round</td> + + <td></td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">10</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">6</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left" + valign="top">To giving an account of my life and + works generally (this being the article + itself)</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">20</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left" + valign="top">To showing photographs, books, + pictures, playbills, and various curios in my + collection</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">5</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left" + valign="top">To being photographed in several + attitudes in the back garden three times, and + incurring the danger of catching a severe cold</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">3</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left" + valign="top">(***<i>On the condition that I should + sign all photos sold inspect books, and receive</i> + 10 <i>per cent. of gross receipts.</i>)</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left" + valign="top">To allowing black-and-white Artist to + make a sketch of my study, also of myself</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left" + valign="top">(***<i>On the condition that only this + one picture is to be done, and that if sold + separately, I must receive</i> 10 <i>per cent. of + such sale.</i>)</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left" + valign="top">Luncheon, with champagne for the lot, + at 15<i>s.</i> per head</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">2</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">5</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left" + valign="top">Cigars and liqueurs</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">10</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left" + valign="top">For time occupied at luncheon in + giving further details of my life and history</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">10</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + + <td align="right" + valign="bottom">0</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="right">Total</td> + + <td align="right">£49</td> + + <td align="right">5</td> + + <td align="right">6</td> + </tr> + </table> + + <p>The refreshments are entirely optional, and therefore can be + struck out beforehand.</p> + + <p>Pray show the above to the eminent firm which has the + advantage of your zealous services, and believe me to + remain</p> + + <p>Your most sincerely obliged</p> + + <p>BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.</p> + + <p>To the above a reply may be expected, and, if received, it + will probably be in a different tone from Mr. SOPHTE SOPER's + previous communications. No matter. There's an end of it. The + Baron's advice to all "Celebrities," when asked to permit + themselves to be interviewed, is, in the language of the + poet,—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Charge, Chester, charge!"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>then they will have benefited other Celebrities all round, + and the result will be that either only those authors will be + interviewed who are worth the price of interviewing, or the + professional biographical compilers will have to hunt up + nobodies, dress up jays as peacocks, and so bring the + legitimate business of "Interviewing" into well-deserved + contempt.</p> + <hr /> + + <p><i>Two Men in a Boat</i>. By Messrs. DILLON and + O'BRIEN.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page202" + id="page202"></a>[pg 202]</span> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/202.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/202.png" + alt="" /></a> + + <h3>THE GRAND OLD CAMPAIGNER IN SCOTLAND.</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page203" + id="page203"></a>[pg 203]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <h3>PROPOSED RAISING OF PICCADILLY.</h3>"Let the road be + raised, &c.... Only one house in Piccadilly at present + standing would suffer.... And I think the Badminton + Club."<br /> + <i>Vile Letter to Times, Oct</i>. 11. + <a href="images/203.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/203.png" + alt="" /></a> + + <table summary="Figure caption" + width="100%"> + <tr> + <td align="center" + valign="top" + width="50%">SUDDEN APPEARANCE OF THE PICCADILLY + GOAT TO ELDERLY GENTLEMAN, WHO IS QUIETLY + DRESSING IN HIS ROOM ON SECOND FLOOR.</td> + + <td align="center" + valign="top" + width="50%">A CLUB ALMOST ENTIRELY DISAPPEARS. + MEMBERS MAKE THE BEST OF THE SITUATION.</td> + </tr> + </table> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>L'ART DE CAUSER.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>With effects up to date.</i>)</h4> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>[English ladies, conscious of conversational defects, + and desirous of shining in Society, may be expected to + imitate their American Cousins, who, according to <i>The + Daily News</i>, employ a lady crammer who has made a study + of the subject she teaches. Before a dinner or luncheon + party, the crammer spends an hour or two with the pupil, + and coaches her up in general conversation.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It really took us by surprise,</p> + + <p class="i2">We thought her but a mere beginner,</p> + + <p>And widely opened were our eyes</p> + + <p class="i2">To hear her brilliant talk at dinner.</p> + + <p>She always knew just what to say,</p> + + <p class="i2">And said it well, nor for a minute</p> + + <p>Was ever at a loss,—I may</p> + + <p class="i2">As well confess—we men weren't in + it!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The talk was of Roumania's Queen,</p> + + <p class="i2">And was she equal, say, to + DANTE?—</p> + + <p>The way that race was won by <i>Sheen</i>,</p> + + <p class="i2">And not the horse called + <i>Alicánte</i>—</p> + + <p>Of how some charities were frauds,</p> + + <p class="i2">How some again were quite + deserving—</p> + + <p>The beauties of the Norfolk broads—</p> + + <p class="i2">The latest hit of Mr. IRVING—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Does sap go up or down the stem?—</p> + + <p class="i2">The Boom of Mr. RUDYARD + KIPLING—</p> + + <p>The speeches of the G.O.M.—</p> + + <p class="i2">The strength of Mr. MORLEY's + "stripling"</p> + + <p><i>Was</i> JONAH swallowed by the whale?—</p> + + <p class="i2">The price of jute—we wondered all + if</p> + + <p>They'd have the heart to send to gaol</p> + + <p class="i2">Those heroes, SLAVIN and McAULIFFE.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Oh, maiden fair," I said at last,</p> + + <p class="i2">"To hear you talk is most delightful;</p> + + <p>But yet the time, it's clear, you've passed</p> + + <p class="i2">In reading must be something + frightful.</p> + + <p>Come—do you trouble thus your head</p> + + <p class="i2">Because you want to go to College</p> + + <p>By getting out of Mr. STEAD</p> + + <p class="i2">£300 for General Knowledge?"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Kind Sir," she promptly then replied,</p> + + <p class="i2">"Your guess, I quite admit, was + clever,</p> + + <p>And, if I now in you confide,</p> + + <p class="i2">You'll keep it dark, I'm sure, for + ever.</p> + + <p>Yet do not get, I pray, enraged,</p> + + <p class="i2">For how I got my information</p> + + <p>Was simply this—<i>I have engaged</i></p> + + <p class="i2"><i>A Coach in General + Conversation</i>,"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>SERVED À LA RUSSE.</h2> + + <p>MY DEAR MR. PUNCH,</p> + + <p>Will you allow me, as one who knows Russia by heart, to + express my intense admiration for the new piece at the + Shaftesbury Theatre, in which is given, in my opinion, the most + faithful picture of the CZAR's dominions as yet exhibited to + the British Public. ACT I. is devoted to "a Street near the + Banks of the Neva, St. Petersburg," and here we have a splendid + view of the Winter Palace, and what I took to be the Kremlin at + Moscow. On one side is the house of a money-lender, and on the + other the shelter afforded to a drosky-driver and his starving + family. The author, whose name must be BUCHANANOFF (though he + modestly drops the ultimate syllable), gives as a second title + to this portion of his wonderful work, "The Dirge for the + Dead." It is very appropriate. A student, whose funds are at + the lowest ebb, commits a purposeless murder, and a "pope" who + has been on the look-out no doubt for years, seizes the + opportunity to rush into the murdered man's dwelling, and sing + over his inanimate body a little thing of his own composition. + Anyone who has been in Russia will immediately recognise this + incident as absolutely true to life. Amongst my own + acquaintance I know three priests who did precisely the same + thing—they are called BROWNOFF, JONESKI, and + ROBINSONOFF.</p> + + <p>Next we have the Palace of the <i>Princess Orenburg</i>, and + make the acquaintance of <i>Anna Ivanovna</i>, a young lady who + is the sister of the aimless murderer, and owner of untold + riches. We are also introduced to the Head of Police, who, as + everyone knows, is a cross between a suburban inspector, a + low-class inquiry agent, and a <i>flaneur</i> moving in the + best Society. We find, too, naturally enough, an English + <i>attaché</i>, whose chief aim is to insult an aged + Russian General, whose <i>sobriquet</i> is, "the Hero of + Sebastopol." Then the aimless murderer reveals his crime, + which, of course, escapes detection save at the hands of + <i>Prince Zosimoff</i>, a nobleman, who I fancy, from his name, + must have discovered a new kind of tooth-powder.</p> + + <p>Next we have the "Interior of a Common Lodging House," the + counterpart of which may be found in almost any street in the + modern capital of Russia. There are the religious pictures, the + cathedral immediately opposite, with its stained-glass windows + and intermittent organ, and the air of sanctity without which + no Russian Common Lodging House is complete. Needless to say + that <i>Prince Tooth-powder</i>—I beg pardon—and + <i>Anna</i> listen while <i>Fedor Ivanovitch</i> again + confesses his crime, this time to the daughter of the + drosky-driver, for whom he has a sincere regard, and I may add, + affection. Although with a well-timed scream his sister might + interrupt the awkward avowal, she prefers to listen to the + bitter end. This reminds me of several cases recorded in the + <i>Newgatekoff Calendaroff</i>, a miscellany of Russian + crimes.</p> + + <p>After this we come to the Gardens of the Palace Taurida, + when <i>Fedor</i> is at length arrested and carted off to + Siberia, an excellent picture of which is given in the last + Act. Those who <i>really</i> know Russian Society-will not be + surprised to find that the Chief of the Police (promoted to a + new position and <span class="pagenum"><a name="page204" + id="page204"></a>[pg 204]</span> a fur-trimmed coat), and + the principal characters of the drama have also found their + way to the Military Outpost on the borders of the dreaded + region. I say dreaded, but should have added, without cause. + M. BUCHANANOFF shows us a very pleasant picture. The + prisoners seem to have very little to do save to preserve + the life of the Governor, and to talk heroics about liberty + and other kindred subjects. <i>Prince Zosimoff</i> attempts, + for the fourth or fifth time, to make <i>Anna</i> his + own—he calls the pursuit "a caprice," and it is indeed + a strange one—and is, in the nick of time, arrested, + by order of the CZAR. After this pleasing and natural little + incident, everyone prepares to go back to St. Petersburg, + with the solitary exception of the Prince, who is ordered + off to the Mines. No doubt the Emperor of RUSSIA had used + the tooth-powder, and, finding it distasteful to him, had + taken speedy vengeance upon its presumed inventor.</p> + + <p>I have but one fault to find with the representation. The + play is capital, the scenery excellent, and the acting beyond + all praise. But I am not quite sure about the title. M. + BUCHANANOFF calls his play "<i>The</i> Sixth + <i>Commandment</i>"—he would have been, in my opinion, + nearer the mark, had he brought it into closer association with + the Ninth!</p> + + <p>Believe me, dear <i>Mr. Punch</i>,</p> + + <p>Yours, respectfully,</p> + + <p>RUSS IN URBE.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>IN OUR GARDEN.</h2> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/204.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/204.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>"Suppose, TOBY dear boy," said the Member for Sark, "we + start a garden, and work in it ourselves. TEMPLE did it, you + know, when he was tired of affairs of State."</p> + + <p>"Sir RICHARD?" I asked, never remembering to have seen the + Member for Evesham in the company of a rake.</p> + + <p>"No; CHARLES THE SECOND's Minister, who went down to Sheen + two centuries before the Orleanist Princes, and grew roses. Of + course I don't mean to be there much in the Session. The thing + is to have something during Recess to gently engage the mind + and fully occupy the body."</p> + + <p>This conversation took place towards the end of last Session + but one. By odd coincidence I had met the Member for Sark as I + was coming from OLD MORALITY's room, where I had been quietly + dining with him, JACKSON and AKERS-DOUGLAS made up party of + four. It was second week of August; everybody tired to death. + OLD MORALITY asked me to look in and join them about eight + o'clock. Knocked at door; no answer; curious scurrying going + round; somebody running and jumping; heard OLD MORALITY's + voice, in gleeful notes, "Now then, DOUGLAS, tuck in your + tuppenny! Here you are, JACKSON! keep the mill a goin'!" + Knocked again; no answer; opened door gently; beheld strange + sight. The Patronage Secretary was "giving a back" to the FIRST + LORD of the TREASURY. OLD MORALITY, taking running jump, + cleared it with surprising agility considering AKERS-DOUGLAS'S + inches. Then he trotted on a few paces, folded his arms and + bent his head; Financial Secretary to Treasury, clearing + AKERS-DOUGLAS, took OLD MORALITY in his stride, and "tucked in + his tuppenny" in turn.</p> + + <p>Thought I had better retire. Seemed on the whole the + proceedings demanded privacy; but OLD MORALITY, catching sight + of me, called out, "Come along, TOBY! Only our little game. + Fall in, and take your turn."</p> + + <p>Rather afraid of falling over, but didn't like to spoil + sport; cleared OLD MORALITY capitally; scrambled over + AKERS-DOUGLAS; but couldn't manage JACKSON.</p> + + <p>"I can't get over him," I said, apologetically.</p> + + <p>"No," said AKERS-DOUGLAS, "he's a Yorkshireman."</p> + + <p>"'Tis but a primitive pastime," observed OLD MORALITY, when, + later, we sat down to dinner; "but remarkably refreshing; a + great stimulant for the appetite. Indeed," he added, as he + transferred a whole grouse to his plate, "I do not know + anything that more forcibly brings home to the mind the truth + underlying the old Greek aphorism, that a bird on your plate is + worth two in the dish."</p> + + <p>I gathered in conversation that when business gets a little + heavy, when time presses, and leisure for exercise is + curtailed, OLD MORALITY generally has ten minutes leap-frog + before dinner.</p> + + <p>"We used at first to play it in the corridor; an excellent + place; apparently especially designed for the purpose; but we + were always liable to interruption, and by putting the chairs + on the table here we manage well enough. It's been the making + of me, and I may add, has enabled my Right Hon. friends with + increased vigour and ease to perform their duty to their QUEEN + and Country. The great thing, dear TOBY, is to judiciously + commingle physical exercise with mental activity. What says the + great bard of Abydos? <i>Mens sana in corpore sano</i>, which + being translated means, mens—or perhaps I should say, + men—should incorporate bodily exercise with mental + exercitation."</p> + + <p>Of course I did not disclose to the Member for Sark, what + had taken place in the privity of OLD MORALITY's room. That is + not my way. The secret is ever sacred with me, and shall be + carried with me to the silent tomb. But I was much impressed + with the practical suggestions of my esteemed Leader, and + allured by their evident effect upon his appetite.</p> + + <p>"Men," continued the Member for Sark, moodily, "do all kinds + of things in the Recess to make up for the inroads on the + constitution suffered during the Session. They go to La + Bourboule like the MARKISS and RAIKES; or they play Golf like + Prince ARTHUR; or they pay visits to their Mothers-in-law in + the United States, like CHAMBERLAIN and LYON PLAYFAIR; or they + go to Switzerland, India, Russia, Australia, and Sierra Leone. + Now if we had a garden, which we dug, and weeded, and clipped, + and pruned ourselves, never eating a potato the sapling of + which we had not planted, watered, and if necessary grafted, + with our own hands, we should live happy, healthful lives for + at least a month or two, coming back to our work having renewed + our youth like the rhinoceros."</p> + + <p>"But you don't know anything about gardening, do you?"</p> + + <p>"That's just it. Anyone can keep a garden that has been + brought up to the business. But look what chances there are + before two statesmen of, I trust I may say without egotism, + average intelligence, who take to gardening without, as you may + say, knowing anything about it. Think of the charm of being + able to call a spade a Hoe! without your companion, however + contentious, capping the exclamation. Then think of the long + vista of possible surprises. You dig a trench, and I gently + sprinkle seed in it—"</p> + + <p>"Excuse me," I said, "but supposing <i>I</i> sprinkle the + seed, and <i>you</i> dig the trench?"</p> + + <p>"—The seed is carrot, let us suppose," the Member for + Sark continued, disregarding my interruption, his fine face + aglow with honest enthusiasm. "I, not being an adept, feeling + my way, as it were, towards the perfection of knowledge, put in + the seed the wrong end up, and, instead of the carrots + presenting themselves to the earnest inquirer in what is, I + believe, the ordinary fashion, with the green tops showing + above the generous earth, and the spiral, rosy-tinted, + cylindrical form hidden in the soil, the limb were to grow out + of the ground, its head downward; would that be nothing, do you + think? I mention that only as a possibility that flashed across + my mind. There are an illimitable series of possibilities that + might grow out of Our Garden. Of course we don't mean to make + money out of it. It's only fair to you, TOBY, that I should, at + the outset, beg you to hustle out of your mind any sordid ideas + of that kind. What we seek is, health and honest occupation, + and here they lie open to our hand."</p> + + <p>This conversation, as I mentioned, took place a little more + than a year ago. I was carried away, as the House of Commons + never is, by my Hon. friend's eloquence. We got the garden. We + have it now; but I do not trust myself on this page to dwell on + the subject.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>FEMININE AND A N-UTAH GENDER.—Plurality of wives is + abolished in Utah. The husbands seem to have made no difficulty + about it, but what have the wives said?</p> + <hr /> + + <p>"QUEEN'S WEATHER."—The weather is looking up. It was + mentioned in the <i>Court Circular</i> last Wednesday week for + the first time.</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 12468 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/12468-h/images/193.png b/12468-h/images/193.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..56ee2db --- /dev/null +++ b/12468-h/images/193.png diff --git a/12468-h/images/194.png b/12468-h/images/194.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f690094 --- /dev/null +++ b/12468-h/images/194.png diff --git a/12468-h/images/195.png b/12468-h/images/195.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d4b5bc4 --- /dev/null +++ b/12468-h/images/195.png diff --git a/12468-h/images/196.png b/12468-h/images/196.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8ffc8c6 --- /dev/null +++ b/12468-h/images/196.png diff --git a/12468-h/images/197-1.png b/12468-h/images/197-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f9ef4f9 --- /dev/null +++ b/12468-h/images/197-1.png diff --git a/12468-h/images/197-2.png b/12468-h/images/197-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfbaf5b --- /dev/null +++ b/12468-h/images/197-2.png diff --git a/12468-h/images/198.png b/12468-h/images/198.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7b67e06 --- /dev/null +++ b/12468-h/images/198.png diff --git a/12468-h/images/199.png b/12468-h/images/199.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c0a5d5 --- /dev/null +++ b/12468-h/images/199.png diff --git a/12468-h/images/201.png b/12468-h/images/201.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f76c4fa --- /dev/null +++ b/12468-h/images/201.png diff --git a/12468-h/images/202.png b/12468-h/images/202.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4e57f3d --- /dev/null +++ b/12468-h/images/202.png diff --git a/12468-h/images/203.png b/12468-h/images/203.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..349379a --- /dev/null +++ b/12468-h/images/203.png diff --git a/12468-h/images/204.png b/12468-h/images/204.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7de37af --- /dev/null +++ b/12468-h/images/204.png |
