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diff --git a/12872-h/12872-h.htm b/12872-h/12872-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4d4dd17 --- /dev/null +++ b/12872-h/12872-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1983 @@ +<!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, January 24, 1891.</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 12872 ***</div> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 100.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>January 24, 1891.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page37" + id="page37"></a>[pg 37]</span> + + <h2>MR. PUNCH'S PRIZE NOVELS.</h2> + + <h3>No. XII.—THE MATE OF THE MARLINSPIKE.</h3> + + <h4>(<i>By</i> SHARK MUSSELL; <i>Author of "Erect with a Stove + in Her," "My Gyp made to wheeze," "The Romance of a Penny + Parlour," "A Hook for the Bannock," "Found the Gal on Fire," + "The Mystery of the Lotion Jar," "The Jokes o' Lead," &c., + &c., &c.</i>)</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>["Here you are, my hearty," writes the Author, "this is + a regular briny ocean story, all storms and thunderclaps + and sails and rigging and soaring masts and bellying sails. + How about 'avast heaving' and 'shiver my timbers,' and 'son + of a sea-cook,' and all that? No, thank you; that kind of + thing's played out. MARRYAT was all very well <i>in his + day</i>, but that day's gone. The public requires stories + about merchant ships, and, by Neptune, the public shall + have them, with all kinds of hairy villains and + tempest-tossed wrecks and human interest and no end of + humour, likewise word-pictures of ships and storms. That's + me. So clear the decks, and here goes."]</p> + </blockquote> + + <h4>CHAPTER I.</h4> + + <p>We were in mid-ocean. Over the vast expanses of the oily sea + no ripple was to be seen although Captain BABBIJAM kept his + binoculars levelled at the silent horizon for three-quarters of + an hour by the saloon clock. Far away in the murky distance of + the mysterious empyrean, a single star flashed with a weird + brilliance down upon the death-like stillness of the immemorial + ocean. Yet the good old <i>Marlinspike</i> was rolling from + side to side and rising and falling as if the liquid expanse + were stirred by the rush of a tempest instead of lying as + motionless as a country congregation during the rector's + sermon. Suddenly Captain BABBIJAM closed his binoculars with an + angry snap, and turned to me. His face showed of a dark purple + under his white cotton night-cap.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/37.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/37.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>"The silly old ship," he muttered, half to himself and half + to me, "is trying to make heavy weather of it; but I'll be even + with her. I'll be even with her."</p> + + <p>"You'll find it a very <i>odd</i> thing to do," I said to + him, jocosely.</p> + + <p>He sprang at me like a seahorse, and reared himself to his + full height before me.</p> + + <p>"Come, Mr. TUGLEY," he continued, speaking in a low, meaning + voice, "can you take a star?"</p> + + <p>"Sometimes," I answered, humouring his strange fancy; "but + there's only one about, and it seems a deuce of a long way + off—however, I'll try;" and, with that, I reached my arm + up in the direction of the solitary planet, which lay in the + vast obscure like a small silver candlestick, with a greenish + tinge in its icy sparkling, mirrored far below in the indigo + flood of the abysmal sea, while a grey scud came sweeping up, + no one quite knew whence, and hung about the glossy face of the + silent luminary like the shreds of a wedding veil, scattered by + a honey-moon quarrel across the deep spaces far beyond the + hairy coamings of the booby-hatch.</p> + + <p>"Fool!" said the Captain, softly, "I don't mean that. If you + can't take a star, can you keep a watch?"</p> + + <p>"Well, as to that, Captain," said I, half shocked and half + amused at his strange questionings, "I never take my own out in + a crowd. It's one of DENT's best, given me by my aunt, and I've + had it for nigh upon—"</p> + + <p>But the Captain had left me, and was at that moment engaged + on his after-supper occupation of jockeying a lee yard-arm, + while the first mate, Mr. SOWSTER, was doing his best to keep + up with his rough commanding officer by dangling to windward on + the flemish horse, which, as it was touched in the wind and + gone in the forelegs, stumbled violently over the buttery + hatchway and hurled its venturesome rider into the hold.</p> + + <h4>CHAPTER II.</h4> + + <p>On the following morning we were all sitting in the palatial + saloon of the <i>Marlinspike</i>. We were all there, all the + characters, that is to say, necessary for the completion of a + first class three-volume ocean novel. On my right sat the + cayenne-peppery Indian Colonel, a small man with a fierce face + and a tight collar, who roars like a bull and says, "Zounds, + Sir," on the slightest provocation. Opposite to him was his + wife, a Roman-nosed lady, with an imperious manner, and a + Colonel-subduing way of curling her lip. On my left was the + funny man. As usual he was of a sea-green colour, and might be + expected at any moment to stagger to a porthole and call + faintly for the steward. Further down the table sat two young + nincompoops, brought on board specially in order that they + might fulfil their destiny, and fill out my story, by falling + in love with the fluffy-haired English girl who was sitting + between them, and pouting equally and simultaneously at both. + There was also the stout German who talks about "de sturm und + der vafes." And beside him was the statuesque English beauty, + whose eyes are of the rich blackness of the tropic sky, whose + voice has a large assortment of sudden notes of haughtiness, + while the studied insolence of her manner first freezes her + victims and then incontinently and inconsistently scorches + them. Eventually her proud spirit will be tamed, probably by a + storm, or a ship-wreck, or by ten days in an open boat. I shall + then secure your love, my peerless ARAMINTA, and you will marry + me and turn out as soft and gentle as the moss-rose which now + nestles in your raven tresses. The Colonel was speaking.</p> + + <p>"Zounds, Sir!" he was saying. "I don't know what you mean by + effects. All mine are on board. What do you say, Mr. TUGLEY?" + he went on, looking at me with a look full of corkscrews and + broken glass, while his choleric face showed of a purple hue + under the effort of utterance.</p> + + <p>"Well, Colonel," I replied, in an off-hand way, so as not to + irritate him, "I keep my best effects here;" and, so saying, I + produced my note-book, and tapped it significantly. "What, for + instance, do you say to this?"</p> + + <p>But, what follows, needs another chapter.</p> + + <h4>CHAPTER III.</h4> + + <p>I found the place in my notebook, cleared my voice, and + began. "The ship was sailing gloriously under a press of + canvas. Her foretopgallant-sail swelled to its cotton-like hue + out of the black shadow of its incurving. High aloft, the + swelling squares of her studding-sails gleamed in the misty + sheen of the pale luminary, flinging her frosty light from + point to point of the tapering masts, which rose, rose, rose + into the morning air, as though with intent to pierce the + glowing orb of day, poised in the heavens like one vast ball of + liquid fire. Through the wind-hushed spaces of the canvas, + where the foretopmaststay-sail—"</p> + + <p>"I know that foretopmaststay-sail," said the funny man, + suddenly. I withered him with a look, and turned over the + page.</p> + + <p>"Here," I said, "is another tip-topper. What do you think of + this for a storm?—'The liquid acclivities were rising + taller, and more threatening. With a scream of passion the + tortured ship hurled itself at their deep-green crests. + Cascades of rain, and hail, and snow, were dashing down upon + her unprotected bulwarks. The inky sky was one vast + thunder-clap, out of which the steely shaft of an electric + flash pierced its dazzling path into the heart of the raving + deep. The scud—'</p> + + <p>"I know that scud," said a hateful voice. But, before I + could annihilate its owner, the pale face of Mr. SPILKINGS, + with his dead-eyes turned in, dashed breathlessly into the + saloon. "By all that's holy," he shouted, "the Captain's gone + mad, and the crew have thrown off all disguise. We are manned + by ourang-outangs!"</p> + + <h4>CHAPTER IV.</h4> + + <p>Never shall I forget the horrors of the scene that ensued. + We clewed up the mizzen royal, we lashed the foretop to make it + spin upon its heels. The second dog watch barked his shins to + the bone, and a tail of men hauled upon the halliards to + mast-head the yard. Nothing availed. We had to be wrecked and + wrecked we were, and as I clasped ARAMINTA's trustful head to + my breast, the pale luminary sailing through the angry wrack + glittered in phantasmal splendour on the scud which—</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[Here the MS. ends unaccountably.—ED. + <i>Punch</i>.]</p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page38" + id="page38"></a>[pg 38]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/38.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/38.png" + alt="AN INTERESTED PARTY." /></a> + + <h3>AN INTERESTED PARTY.</h3> + + <p><i>St. Bernard's Dog</i> (<i>confidentially to Mr. + Chaplin</i>). "NEVER MIND THE OLD WOMAN; LET'S KEEP THE + MUZZLE ON FOR A YEAR, AND HAVE DONE WITH IT!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page39" + id="page39"></a>[pg 39]</span> + + <h2>CANINE CONFIDENCES.</h2> + + <blockquote> + <p><i>Clever Dog, to the Minister of Agriculture, + loquitur</i>—</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>POTTERER, put the muzzle on! Potterer, take it off + again!</p> + + <p><i>That</i> is not the way, my friend, cruel + <i>rabies</i> to restrain.</p> + + <p class="i10">Take my tip!</p> + + <p>As to self-styled "friends of dogs," too + preposterous by half,</p> + + <p>Who object to all restraint, they deserve on seat or + calf</p> + + <p class="i10">One sharp nip.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It is <i>doggish</i> interest hydrophobia to stamp + out;</p> + + <p>'Tis a curse to us canines; that no person well can + doubt</p> + + <p class="i10">Who has sense.</p> + + <p>They who think we doggies share old maid's + sentimental fad,</p> + + <p>Just as though it really were a dog's + <i>privilege</i> to go mad,</p> + + <p class="i10">Must be dense.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Muzzles are a bore, of course, rather troublesome at + times,</p> + + <p>But I'd rather have my nose made incapable of + crimes,</p> + + <p class="i8">Than go free,</p> + + <p>With the chance of "going off," giving friend or foe + a bite.</p> + + <p>And be clubbed to death or shot, murdered in my + master's sight,</p> + + <p class="i10">Don't suit <i>me</i>!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Never mind the fussy frumps, the old women of each + sex;</p> + + <p>Better raise their ready wrath than the prudent + public vex</p> + + <p class="i10">With crass rules.</p> + + <p>Muzzles now and collars then, partial orders soon + relaxed;</p> + + <p>Men rebel when with caprice they are tied, or + teased, or taxed,</p> + + <p class="i10">Else they're fools.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Keep the muzzles on a year, regularly, and <i>all + round</i>,</p> + + <p>Every doggy of high breed, mongrel puppy, whelp or + hound,</p> + + <p class="i10">Will give thanks</p> + + <p>To the Minister who tries hydrophobia to stamp + out</p> + + <p>Once for all o'er all the land, with consistency, + and without</p> + + <p class="i10">Pottering pranks!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Mr. CHAPLIN, take my tip! Science speaks in the same + sense,</p> + + <p>So does true philanthropy. Ought to have effect + immense,</p> + + <p class="i10">What they say.</p> + + <p>Heed not that old woman there, with her spoilt and + yelping pet;</p> + + <p>I for every dog of <i>nous</i> in the country speak, + you bet.</p> + + <p class="i10">Try! <i>Good</i>-day!</p> + </div> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Trots out, comfortably muzzled</i>.</p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <p>MOST APPROPRIATE.—We see, from some recently-reported + proceedings, that the present Inspector appointed under the + Infant Life Protection Act is "Mr. BABEY."</p> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/39.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/39.png" + alt="THE SECRETS OF LITERARY COMPOSITION." /></a> + + <h3>THE SECRETS OF LITERARY COMPOSITION.</h3> + + <p><i>The Fair Authoress of "Passionate Pauline," gazing + fondly at her own reflection, writes as + follows:—</i></p> + + <p>"I look into the glass, Reader. What do I see?</p> + + <p>"I see a pair of laughing, <i>espiègle</i>, + forget-me-not blue eyes, saucy and defiant; a <i>mutine</i> + little rose-bud of a mouth, with its ever-mocking + <i>moue</i>; a tiny shell-like ear, trying to play + hide-and-seek in a tangled maze of rebellious russet gold; + while, from underneath the satin folds of a <i>rose-thé</i> + dressing-gown, a dainty foot peeps coyly forth in its + exquisitely-pointed gold morocco slipper," &c., + &c.</p> + + <p>(<i>Vide "Passionate Pauline," by Parbleu.</i>)</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>A COMING MEETING.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>Reported from the Railway Intelligence of + 1892.</i>)</h4> + + <p>The Chairman, who on opening the proceedings was received + with a feeble chorus of melancholy groans, said that he feared + he had no better Report to make to the shareholders. ("<i>Oh! + oh!</i>") It is true that he had one fact to mention, which was + a matter of supreme congratulation, and he needn't say that + that was that they hadn't yielded a single inch to the men. + ("<i>Oh! oh!" and a Voice, "Oh! we've had enough of + 'that'!")</i> It is also true that this firm and unflinching + front had necessitated some sacrifice, and had involved the + Company in no little difficulty. (<i>Prolonged groans.</i>) He + was sorry to note these manifestations, for he had not only to + announce to that meeting the non-payment of any dividend, even + to the holders of the Company's Debenture Stock, but he had + further to inform them, that, owing to some difficulty in + settling the account of their coal contractors, these last had + taken proceedings against them, and had seized not only all the + contents of their refreshment-rooms, but also the whole of + their rolling-stock. (<i>Prolonged wailing.</i>) He grieved to + say that the last two engines that the Company possessed, and + which they had up to now hidden in the cloak-room at the + Edinburgh terminus, were unfortunately discovered and seized + last night. (<i>Groans.</i>) Still, the Company did not despair + of being able to carry on, at least, a portion of the Passenger + Traffic (<i>Feeble laughter.</i>) They might meet the statement + with a manifestation of ridicule—but such was the case. + It was with a sense of pride in their method of triumphing over + difficulties, that he announced to the meeting, that a train of + cattle-trucks would be started for the North daily at twelve + o'clock, the motive power of which would be the Directors + themselves. ("<i>Oh! oh!")</i> They could not say anything + about <i>the pace</i> at which the train would travel, but + that, <i>with time</i>, it would do the distance he had little, + if any doubt. It is true that in a similar experiment on a + neighbouring line the train came to a dead halt in the first + tunnel, and the passengers had to descend in the dark and grope + their way out to the nearest station as well as they could, but + this unsatisfactory experience would in no way deter them from + making the experiment on their own behalf. (<i>Jeers.</i>) He + was sorry to see that the ordinary stock of the Company, which, + a twelvemonth since, had touched 128-3/8,—could not now + find purchasers in the Market at 7-1/2. (<i>Groans.</i>) But he + hoped for better times. ("<i>Oh! oh!</i>") But, come what + would, he would hold fast by his principles, which were, "<i>No + Compromise, No Meeting Halfway, No Arbitration, No + Concession!</i>" Men might starve, Trade collapse, the Country + come to ruin, the Company disappear in Bankruptcy, but he cared + not. The Directors had put their foot down, and, whether right + or wrong, whatever happened, <i>there</i> they meant, with a + good down-right national and pig-headed obstinacy, to keep + it.</p> + + <p>The Chairman was continuing in this strain, but, being + interrupted by a shower of inkstands, was compelled to close + his remarks, the proceedings coming to a somewhat abrupt + conclusion, in a scene of considerable confusion.</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>The "Strait" Tip.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Oh, Mister BLAINE, we don't complain</p> + + <p class="i2">That for your country's weal you're + caring;</p> + + <p>But, clever Yankee, <i>Punch</i> would thank 'ee</p> + + <p class="i2">Not to be quite so + <i>over-Behring!</i></p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>NEW VERSION.—Every dog must have his—<i>year</i> + (of muzzling).</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page40" + id="page40"></a>[pg 40]</span> + + <h2>THE GAME OF PEACE.</h2> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/40.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/40.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p><i>April</i>.—Grand informal meeting of the Crowned + Heads of Europe (with the CZAR in the chair) to discuss a + scheme of general disarmament, at which the Emperor of GERMANY + creates a profound sensation by the announcement that, as a + hint to his brother Monarchs, he has himself gone on to the + retired list, burnt his cocked-hat, disbanded the Pomeranian + Grenadiers, and confined Herr KRUPP for ten years in a + second-class fortress.</p> + + <p><i>May</i>.—By arrangement, all the great powers call + in the uniforms of all their troops and present them to the + King of the BELGIANS, on the understanding that, as the Emperor + of the Congo, he shall forthwith transport them to Africa, and + instantly commence the clothing of seven millions of the naked + native population.</p> + + <p><i>June</i>.—One hundred and eighty thousand horses, + with military training, coming suddenly on to the market, + four-in-hand Hansoms at a penny an hour, become common in all + the great European capitals, and the Derby, for which there are + 1371 entries, is won by a Cossack pony, trained in Siberia.</p> + + <p><i>July</i>.—The barrels of all the magazine rifles + melted down, and recast, utilised for the production of + type-writers, which, being produced in large quantities, are + supplied with instruction gratis to all the children attending + the establishments of the London School Board, the stocks of + the rifles being utilised for the manufacture of billiard-cues, + walking-sticks, and umbrella-handles.</p> + + <p><i>August</i>.—It being resolved to use up all the + gunpowder without delay, a perpetual display of fireworks is + inaugurated at Vienna, St. Petersburg, Berlin, Paris, and + London, the show in the last-named capital including a gigantic + set-piece of the Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World, which + is given five times successively every evening at the Crystal + Palace for three months, Piccadilly being illuminated from 6 + P.M. to 3 A.M. by the continuous discharge of coloured + rockets.</p> + + <p><i>September</i>.—The last 101-ton gun having been + melted down for the forging of the metal piles for one of the + four newly-projected Channel bridges, a nasty international + feeling, fermented by General Officers who are obliged to sweep + crossings and drive four-wheeled cabs for a + livelihood,—and who do not like it,—begins to + manifest itself, and diplomacy intervening irritably only to + make matters worse, several ultimatums are dispatched from some + of the Great Powers to others, but owing to the want of + soldiers, the matter is put into the hands of International + Solicitors, who, arranging a stand-up fight for the President + of the French Republic and the CZAR against the Emperors of + GERMANY and AUSTRIA, and the KING of ITALY, the matter somehow + falls through for the moment, and the public excitement + subsides.</p> + + <p><i>October</i>.—General note from all the Great Powers + to each other announcing their secession from the "League of + Peace," and declaring their intention of resorting again to + "<i>Protective Armament</i>" as soon as possible. War declared + all round before the end of the month.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>VOCES POPULI.</h2> + + <h3>AT THE GUELPH EXHIBITION.</h3> + + <h4>IN THE CENTRAL HALL.</h4> + + <p><i>A Thrifty Visitor</i> (<i>on entering</i>). Catalogue? + No. What's the use of a Catalogue? Miserable thing, the size of + a tract, that tells you nothing you don't know!</p> + + <p><i>His Wife</i> (<i>indicating a pile of Catalogues on + table</i>). Aren't <i>these</i> big enough for you?</p> + + <p><i>The Thr. V.</i> Those? Why, they're big enough for the + <i>London Directory</i>! Think I'm going to drag a thing like + that about the place? You don't really want a + Catalogue—it's all your fancy!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Prattler</i> (<i>to</i> Miss AMMERSON). Oh, <i>do</i> + stop and look at these <i>sweet</i> goldfish! Pets! Don't you + <i>love</i> them? <i>Aren't</i> they tame?</p> + + <p><i>Miss Ammerson</i>. Wouldn't do to have them + <i>wild</i>—might jump out and <i>bite</i> people, you + know!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. P.</i> It's <i>too</i> horrid of you to make fun of + my poor little enthusiasms! But really,—couldn't we get + something and feed them?—<i>Do</i> let's!</p> + + <p><i>Miss A.</i> I daresay you could get ham-sandwiches in the + Restaurant—or chocolates.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. P.</i> How unkind you are to me! But I don't care. + (<i>Wilfully.</i>) I shall come here all by myself, and bring + biscuits. Great big ones! Are you determined to take me into + that big room with all the Portraits? Well, you must tell me + who they all are then, and which are the Guelphiest ones.</p> + + <h4>IN THE ROYAL ROOM.</h4> + + <p><i>Considerate Niece</i> (<i>to</i> Uncle). They seem mostly + Portraits here. You're sure you don't <i>mind</i> looking at + them, Uncle? I know so many people <i>do</i> object to + Portraits.</p> + + <p><i>Uncle</i> (<i>with the air of a Christian Martyr</i>). + No, my dear, no: <i>I</i> don't mind 'em. Stay here as long as + you like, I'll sit down and look at the people, till you've + done.</p> + + <p><i>First Critical Visitor</i> (<i>examining a View of St. + James's Park</i>). I wonder where that was taken. In Scotland, + I expect—there's two Highlanders there, you see.</p> + + <p><i>Second C.V.</i> Shouldn't wonder—lot o' work in + that, all those different colours, and so many dresses. + [<i>Admires, thoughtfully.</i></p> + + <p><i>A Well-read Woman</i>. That's Queen CHARLOTTE, that is. + GEORGE THE THIRD's wife, you know—her that was so + <i>domestic</i>.</p> + + <p><i>Her Companion</i>. Wasn't that the one that was shut up + in the Tower, or something?</p> + + <p><i>The W.W.</i> In the Tower? Lor, my dear, no, <i>I</i> + never 'eard of it. You're thinking of the TUDORS, or some o' + that lot, I expect!</p> + + <p><i>Her Comp.</i> Am I? I daresay. I never <i>could</i> + remember 'Istry. Why, if you'll believe me, I always have to + stop and think which of the GEORGES came first!</p> + + <p><i>More Critical Visitors</i> (<i>before Portraits</i>). + He's rather pleasant-looking, don't you think? I <i>don't</i> + like <i>her</i> face at all. So peculiar. And what a hideous + dress—like a tea-gown without any upper + part—frightful!</p> + + <p><i>A Sceptical V.</i> They all seem to have had such thin + lips in those days. Somehow, I <i>can't</i> bring myself to + believe in such very thin lips—can <i>you</i>, dear?</p> + + <p><i>Her Friend</i>. I always think it's a sign of meanness, + myself.</p> + + <p><i>The S.V.</i> No; but I mean—I can't believe + <i>everyone</i> had them in the eighteenth century.</p> + + <p><i>Her Friend</i>. Oh, I don't know. If it was the + fashion!</p> + + <h4>ABOUT THE CASES.</h4> + + <p><i>Visitor</i> (<i>admiring an embroidered waistcoat of the + time of</i> GEORGE THE SECOND—<i>a highly popular + exhibit</i>). What lovely work! Why, it looks as if it was done + yesterday!</p> + + <p><i>Her Companion</i> (<i>who is not in the habit of allowing + his enthusiasm to run away with him</i>). Um—yes, it's + not bad. But, of course, they wouldn't send a thing like that + here without having it washed and done up first!</p> + + <p><i>An Old Lady</i>. "Tea-pot used by the Duke of WELLINGTON + during his campaigns." So he drank <i>tea</i>, did he? Dear me! + Do you know, my dear, I think I must have <i>my</i> old tea-pot + engraved. It will make it so much more interesting some + day!</p> + + <h4>IN THE SOUTH GALLERY.</h4> + + <p><i>Mr. Prattler</i> (<i>before a Portrait of</i> Lady + HAMILTON, <i>by</i> ROMNEY). There! Isn't she too charming? I + do call her a perfect <i>duck</i>.'</p> + + <p><i>Miss Ammerson</i>. Yes, you mustn't forget her when you + bring those biscuits.</p> + + <p><i>An Amurrcan Girl</i>. Father, see up there; there's + BYRON. Did you erver see such a purrfectly beautiful face?</p> + + <p><i>Her Father</i> (<i>solemnly</i>). He was a beautiful + <i>Man</i>—a beautiful Poet.</p> + + <p><i>The A.G.</i> I know—but the <i>expression</i>, it's + real saint-like!</p> + + <p><i>Father</i> (<i>slowly</i>). Well, I guess if he'd had any + different kind of expression, he wouldn't have written the + things he <i>did</i> write, and that's a fact!</p> + + <p><i>A Moralising Old Lady</i> (<i>at Case O</i>). No. 1260. + "Ball of Worsted wound by WILLIAM COWPER, the poet, for Mrs. + UNWIN." NO. 1261. "Netting done by WILLIAM COWPER, the poet." + How very nice, and what a difference in the habit of literary + persons <i>nowadays</i>, my dear!</p> + + <h4>IN THE CENTRAL HALL.—Mr. WHITEROSE, <i>a Jacobite</i> + fin de siècle, <i>is seated on a Bench beside a</i> Seedy + Stranger.</h4> + + <p><i>The S.S.</i> (<i>half to himself</i>). Har, well, there's + one comfort, these 'ere GUELPHS'll get notice to quit afore + we're <i>much</i> older!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Whiterose</i> (<i>surprised</i>). You say so? + Then—you too are of the Young England Party! I am + rejoiced to hear it. You cheer me; it is a sign that the good + Cause is advancing.</p> + + <p><i>The S.S.</i> Advancin'? I believe yer. Why, I know a + dozen and more as are workin' 'art and soul for it!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. W.</i> You do? We are making strides, indeed! Our + England has suffered these usurpers too long.</p> + + <p><i>The S.S.</i> Yer right. But we'll chuck 'em out afore + long, and it'll be "Over goes the Show" with the lot, eh?</p> + + <p><i>Mr. W.</i> I had no idea that + the—er—intelligent artisan classes were so heartily + with us. We must talk more of this. Come and see me. Bring your + friends—all you can depend upon. Here is my card.</p> + + <p><i>The S.S.</i> (<i>putting the card in the lining of his + hat</i>). Right, Guv'nor; we'll come. I wish there was more + gents like yer, I do!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. W.</i> We are united by a common bond. We both + detest—do we not?—the Hanoverian interlopers. We + are both pledged never to rest until we have brought back to + the throne of our beloved + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page41" + id="page41"></a>[pg 41]</span> England, her lawful sovereign + lady—(<i>uncovering</i>)—our gracious MARY of + Austria-Este, the legitimate descendant of CHARLES the + Blessed Martyr!</p> + + <p><i>The S.S.</i> 'Old on, Guv'nor! Me and my friends are with + yer so fur as doing away with these 'ere hidle GUELPHS; but + blow yer MARY of Orstria, yer know. Blow <i>'er</i>!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. W.</i> (<i>horrified</i>). Hush—this is rank + treason! Remember—she is the lineal descendant of the + House of Stuart!</p> + + <p><i>The S.S.</i> What of it? There won't be no lineal + descendants when we git <i>hour</i> way, 'cause there won't be + nothing to descend to nobody. The honly suv'rin <i>we</i> mean + to 'ave is the People—the Democrisy. But there, you're + young, me and my friends'll soon tork you over to hour way o' + thinking. I dessay we ain't fur apart, as it is. I got yer + address, and we'll drop in on yer some night—never fear. + No hevenin' dress, o' course?</p> + + <p><i>Mr. W.</i> Of course. I—I'll look out for you. But + I'm seldom in—hardly <i>ever</i>, in fact.</p> + + <p><i>The S.S.</i> Don't you fret about <i>that</i>. Me and my + friends ain't nothing partickler to do just now. We'll + <i>wait</i> for yer. I should like yer to know ole BILL GABB. + You should 'ear <i>that</i> feller goin' on agin the GUELPHS + when he's 'ad a little booze—it 'ud do your 'art good! + Well, I on'y come in 'ere as a deligate like, to report, and I + seen enough. So 'ere's good-day to yer.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. W.</i> (<i>alone</i>). I shall have to change my + rooms—and I <i>was</i> so comfortable! Well, + well,—another sacrifice to the Cause!</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:25%;"> + <a href="images/41.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/41.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>There was a bronze group by POLLET among the specimens of + sculpture in the French <i>Salon</i>, some twenty years + ago,—"It may be more or less an hour or so," as the poet + sings,—representing a female form being carried upwards + in the embrace of a rather evil-looking Angel. It illustrated a + poem by the Vicomte ALFRED DE VIGNY, which I remember reading, + in consequence of this very statue having come into my + possession (it was afterwards sold at Messrs. CHRISTIE, MANSON + & WOODS, under the style and title of "Lot 121, + <i>Elsa</i>"), and it occurs to me that it was on precisely the + same theme as the other ALFRED's—not the <i>Vicomte</i> + but <i>Mister</i> ALFRED AUSTIN's—"<i>The Tower of + Babel</i>," which I have just read with much pleasure, and, + with some profit; the moral, as I take it, being favourable to + the Temperance cause, as a warning against all spirits, good, + bad, or indifferent. <i>Afrael</i>, the inhabitant of a distant + star, falls in love with <i>Noema</i>, the wife of the + atheistical Babelite <i>Aran</i>, to whom she has borne a son, + aged in the poem, as far as I can make out, about eight years, + and a fine boy for that. Anyhow, it makes <i>Noema</i> at least + twenty-five, supposing she married at sweet seventeen, and, + indeed, she alludes to herself in the poem as no longer in her + first youth.</p> + + <p>Well, <i>Aran</i>, who is very far from being a domestic + character, is struck down by avenging lightning at the + destruction of the Tower of Babel, and <i>Noema</i> is left a + widow, with her child, who has been protected in the + <i>mêlée</i> by the Spirit <i>Afrael's</i> taking him out of + it, and restoring him to his mother's arms. When, after this, + the infatuated spirit-lover <i>Afrael</i> requests <i>Noema</i> + to say the word which shall make a man of him, and a husband of + him too at the same time, she modestly refuses, until she has + had a decent time to order her widow's weeds at her milliner's + and wear them for about a month or so, at the expiration of + which interval <i>Afrael</i> may, if he be still of the same + mind, call in again, and pop the question.</p> + + <p><i>Afrael</i> bids good-bye to the Upper House, and, his + heart being ever true to <i>Poll</i>—meaning + <i>Noema</i>—he returns, makes an evening call upon her, + and asks her, in effect, "Is it to be '<i>Yes-ema</i>,' or + '<i>No-ema</i>'?" The bashful widow chooses the former, and the + Spirit-lover <i>Afrael</i>, renouncing his immortality, + <i>i.e.</i>, giving up spirits, becomes plain <i>Mr. + Afrael</i>, and an ordinary, as far as anybody can judge, a + very ordinary mortal, showing what a change a drop of spirits + can effect in a constitution. Now I should like the poem + "continued in our next." I should like to hear <i>how</i> they + got on together: and, as longevity was considerable in those + patriarchal days, I should like to know how they got on + together when <i>Afrael Esquire</i> was 195, and his wife, + <i>Noema</i>, was 200. Did <i>Afrael</i> never again take to + his spirits? Or, did he become miserable and hipped having + entirely lost his spirits? Did his wife never make sarcastic + reference to the "stars" with whom he had formerly been + acquainted? And how about her boy, his step-son? Did they have + any family? Whence came the money?</p> + + <p>Perhaps Mr. ALFRED AUSTIN (whose works are being printed by + MACMILLAN in a collected form, and among them <i>The Satire</i> + now historic) will give us an entirely new volume on the same + subject, telling an expectant public all about <i>Mr.</i> and + <i>Mrs. Afrael chez eux</i>, and, in fact, something spicy + about this strangely assorted couple; for Poet ALFRED will do + well to remember and act upon his own dictum when, in the + preface to <i>The Satire</i>, he observed, and with truth, that + had he originally "written with the grave decorum of a secluded + moralist, he would" by this time "have gone down into the limbo + of forgotten bores."</p> + + <p>Into that limbo A.A. will never descend. It is delightful to + find him dedicating his book to Lord LYTTON, to whom—when + L.L. was OWEN MEREDITH, ALFREDO <i>mio</i> had pointed out + that, "in one serious particular, he had overlooked parental + admonition," and observing on that occasion that, "had OWEN + MEREDITH even a glimpse of the truth, we" (A.A. himself, in + 1861, much "we"-er then than now—"<i>et alors, il + grandira, il grandira!</i>") "should have been spared the final + <i>tableau</i> of repentance and forgiveness which concludes + <i>Lucile</i>." But, thank goodness, we (the Baron, and his + literary friends) have <i>not</i> been spared the touching + picture of repentance and forgiveness in ALFRED AUSTIN's + dedicating his latest poem to Lord LYTTON. <i>Sic transit ira + poetarum!</i></p> + + <p>In <i>The Season</i> ALFREDO sang—</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"I claim the precious privilege of youth,</p> + + <p>Never to speak except to speak the truth."</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>But those lines were not written the day before yesterday, + and as he can no longer "claim" the aforesaid "precious + privilege," he can in his more mature years "go as he pleases." + And there is so much "go" in him that he always pleases; so the + Baron anticipates the sequel to <i>The Tower of Babel</i> on + the lines already suggested, presumptuous as it may seem to + suggest lines to a poet.</p> + + <p><i>Phra the Phoenician</i>, a very clever idea, with which + BULWER would have performed mysteriously thrilling wonders, but + which Mr. ARNOLD has written at once too heavily and treated + too lightly, in too much of a "so-called nineteenth century + style;" which is a pity, as it is full of dramatic incident, + and the interest well kept up through some two thousand years + or so, more or less. He is a wonder is <i>Mister Phra</i>, and + might well be called <i>Phra Diavolo</i> instead of <i>Phra the + Phoenician</i>. Sir EDWIN ARNOLD has written a preface to the + volume, and seems to express a wish that the wonders here + recorded could be possibilities of everyday life. But, if so, + as <i>Mr. Weller, Senior</i>, observed, <i>à propos</i> of + "there being a Providence in it," "O' course there is, SAMMY; + or what 'ud become o' the undertakers?" And as to + cremation—well, such an utter corporeal extinction would + be the only way of putting an end to the terrestrial existence + of <i>Phra the Phoenician</i>, who, however, "might rise," as + <i>Mrs. Malaprop</i> would say, "like a Phoenician from the + ashes."</p> + + <p>The appearance of <i>A New Lady Audley</i> is rather late in + the half-century as a "skit" on Miss BRADDON's celebrated + novel. Now and then I found an amusing bit in it, but, on the + whole, poor stuff, says THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.</p> + + <p>My faithful "Co." has been reading poetry and prose, and + thus communicates the result of his studies:—There is + genuine but unassuming poetry, which is, after all, only + another way of saying fine feeling finely expressed, in <i>Corn + and Poppies</i>, by COSMO MONKHOUSE (ELKIN MATHEWS). Much of + the verse is musical, and there is throughout a vein of + thoughtfulness which never degenerates into a morbid brooding. + I commend particularly "Any Soul to any Body," "A Dead March," + and "Mysteries," as good examples of Mr. MONKHOUSE's style. So + much for verse. Let me now to prose. Like my baronial Chief, I + say, "Bring me my boots!" and let them be thick, so that I may + trudge safely through Mr. RUDYARD KIPLING's latest, "<i>The + Light that Failed" (Lippincott's Monthly Magazine</i>, + January). This is described as Mr. KIPLING's first long story. + His publishers, moreover, are good enough to take all the + trouble of criticism upon their own shoulders. They declare + that "there is more stern strength in this novel than in + anything which Mr. KIPLING has written;" but that is, after + all, only a comparative statement, which profits me little, as + I never yet estimated the amount of "stern strength" in Mr. + KIPLING's previous writings. I am, however, told, in addition, + that the tale "is as intensely moving as it is intensely + masculine" (there's lovely language!) "and it will not be + surprising if it should prove to be the literary sensation of + the year." To such an expression of opinion by competent judges + it would be futile to attempt to add very much. I will only + say, therefore, that the "sensation" produced in me by this + novel is one of the most disagreeable I ever experienced. The + characters are, for the most part, inordinately dull, + preposterously conceited, and insufferably brutal. As for + <i>Dick Heldar</i>, the hero, no more disagreeable and hateful + bully-puppy ever thought and talked in disconnected gasps + through ninety-seven pages. The catastrophe moves no pity. Mr. + KIPLING seems to despise the public, "who think with their + boots, and read with their elbows;" but so clever a man might + surely show his contempt less crudely. KIPLING, I love thee, + but never more write such another tale!</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page42" + id="page42"></a>[pg 42]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/42.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/42.png" + alt="INFELICITOUS QUOTATIONS." /></a> + + <h3>INFELICITOUS QUOTATIONS.</h3> + + <p><i>Hostess</i>. "WON'T YOU TRY SOME OF THAT JELLY, HERR + SILBERMUND?"</p> + + <p><i>Herr Silbermund</i> (<i>who has just been helped to + Pudding</i>). "ACH, ZANK YOU, NO. I VOOT 'RAHZER PEAR VIZ + ZE ILLS VE HAF, ZAN VLY TO OZZERS ZAT VE KNOW NOT OF.'" + [<i>Herr S. is particularly proud of his knowledge of + Shakspeare.</i>]</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>"WORSE THAN EVER!"</h2> + + <h4>FARMER SMITH <i>loquitur</i>:—</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"To market, to market, to buy a fat pig!"</p> + + <p class="i2">Yes, so runs the old-fashioned nursery + rhyme,</p> + + <p>And a porker that's plump, and round-barrel'd and + big,</p> + + <p class="i2">Is good business,—or used to be + once on a time.</p> + + <p>But now, they're the horriblest nuisance on + earth</p> + + <p>Are Pigs, and a great deal more plague than they're + worth.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I begin to believe 'twould be better by far</p> + + <p class="i2">If Pigs, like the Dodo, extinct could + become.</p> + + <p>They involve one in nothing but jangle and jar,</p> + + <p class="i2">And as to large profits, why that's all a + hum.</p> + + <p>"Please the Pigs?" That's absurd, a mere obsolete + wheeze,</p> + + <p>For Pigs are precisely the beasts you <i>can't</i> + please!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Gee up, <i>Dobbin</i>, old lad! Home's in sight; you + have borne</p> + + <p class="i2">My burden, and that of my basket, right + well,</p> + + <p>Your carrying power some neighbours would scorn,</p> + + <p class="i2">But you're sound and good grit, though + you mayn't look a swell.</p> + + <p>We're starting, lad, after our short half-way + halt,</p> + + <p>If we don't make good time it will not be our + fault.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>We did the first stretch unexpectedly slick,</p> + + <p class="i2">My basket well loaded a feather-weight + seemed,</p> + + <p>The road was so smooth, and your canter so + quick,</p> + + <p class="i2">'Twas better, old lad, than we either had + dreamed.</p> + + <p>A great disappointment to some folk, I think.</p> + + <p>Then we halted half-way for a rest and a drink.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>That big Irish Pig, which had plagued us so oft.</p> + + <p class="i2">Was away,—running after its head or + its tail!</p> + + <p>Oh joy, <i>Dobbin</i>, dear, to jog on, and go + soft,</p> + + <p class="i2">No row, no obstruction by hedge-gap or + rail.</p> + + <p>Ah, then they discovered the pace and the pith</p> + + <p>Of <i>Dobbin</i> the dull, and his mount, Farmer + SMITH.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Now all seems smooth sailing! Hillo! What was + that?</p> + + <p class="i2">A squeak? Nay, it sounds like a chorus of + squeaks!</p> + + <p>Don't shy, my dear <i>Dobbin</i>—you'll shake + off my hat.</p> + + <p class="i2">The lane here grows narrow. Who's there? + No one speaks.</p> + + <p>But that raucous "hrumph! hrumph!" that cacophonous + yell!</p> + + <p>'Tis Pig-noise, and Irish—I know it so + well.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It is right in the road, it is plump in the gap.</p> + + <p class="i2">Steady, <i>Dobbin</i>! Don't halt for + this hullaballoo—</p> + + <p>Gee up! and go steady, now there's a good chap.</p> + + <p class="i2">What, the same plaguy Pig! Nay, by Jove, + <i>there are two!</i></p> + + <p>And they're fighting each other, these porkers + perverse,</p> + + <p>In the gap we must pass! Oh! this grows worse and + worse!</p> + </div> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Whips up Dobbin.</i></p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <h2>KOCH SURE!</h2> + + <h4>SCENE—<i>A Place of Meeting. Enter</i> BROWN + <i>and</i> JONES. <i>They salute one another</i>.</h4> + + <p><i>Brown</i> (<i>excitedly</i>). Have you heard the good + news?</p> + + <p><i>Jones</i> (<i>stolidly</i>). What good news?</p> + + <p><i>Brown</i>. That Dr. KOCH has at length revealed his + secret?</p> + + <p><i>Jones</i> (<i>startled</i>). No, has he! Dear me! And + that I should have missed so pleasant a piece of intelligence! + And so he has told an anxiously-expectant world the cause of + his success! Can <i>you</i> explain the matter to me?</p> + + <p><i>Brown</i> (<i>cheerfully</i>). With the assistance of the + Public Press, to be sure I can. See here, I will give you the + solution to the problem, as told by the Journals, "without + puzzling technicalities."</p> + + <p><i>Jones</i>. I hang upon your words with an impatience that + politeness—the outcome of civilisation—alone + renders endurable.</p> + + <p><i>Brown</i>. Then you must know that Dr. KOCH has + discovered that the remedy for tuberculosis consists of a + glycerine extract of a pure cultivation of tubercle bacilli, + the local effect of which, when injected into a healthy + guinea-pig, produces a nodule found at the point of + inoculation, which, when a second puncture is perpetrated, + causes what may be called the bacillary fluid to be brought + into the current of its circulation, so that the infected + tissue may react upon the agent which it had previously been + able to resist. I am not quite sure that I have got the + <i>exact</i> words, but that's the idea. Simple, isn't it?</p> + + <p><i>Jones</i>. Very! [<i>Exeunt severally.</i></p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page43" + id="page43"></a>[pg 43]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/43.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/43.png" + alt="WORSE THAN EVER!" /></a> + + <h3>"WORSE THAN EVER!"</h3>FARMER SMITH. "TUT-T-T! <i>TWO + OF 'EM!</i> BAD ENOUGH WHEN THERE WAS ONLY ONE!!" + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page45" + id="page45"></a>[pg 45]</span> + + <h2>DOMESTIC MELODIES.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>By Sancho Preston Panza.</i>)</h4> + + <h3>WINTER BATH-SONG.</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>For weeks the sun each morn arose</p> + + <p class="i2">As 'tis his nature to,</p> + + <p>But little difference he made</p> + + <p>Sopp'd by the fog's asthmatic shade;</p> + + <p>From day's beginning till its close</p> + + <p class="i2">The day no brighter grew.</p> + + <p>Above the sheets, the sleeper's nose</p> + + <p class="i2">Peep'd shyly, as afraid,</p> + + <p>While 'neath the dark and draughty flue</p> + + <p>The burnt-out cinders meanly strew</p> + + <p>The hearth, where now no firelight glows,</p> + + <p class="i2">No waiting warmth is laid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Full many a morn I sprang from bed,</p> + + <p class="i2">As o'er the deadly brink</p> + + <p>The wretch, with courage of despair,</p> + + <p>Leaps from the slimy river-stair,</p> + + <p>By hopeless hope unthinking sped,</p> + + <p class="i2">Ere he can pause to think.</p> + + <p>Cold as the efforts of the dead,</p> + + <p class="i2">The needle-atom'd air,</p> + + <p>Impinged upon the limbs that shrink.</p> + + <p>On shivering shanks, and eyelids pink,</p> + + <p>And bound its bands about the head,</p> + + <p class="i2">And chill'd the underwear.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The frost that held us in its grip,</p> + + <p class="i2">Would raise the prisoning paw,</p> + + <p>And Nature, like a mouse set free,</p> + + <p>Enjoyed delusive liberty,</p> + + <p>While every water-pipe must drip</p> + + <p class="i2">To greet the passing thaw.</p> + + <p>Then rudely dashed from eager lip</p> + + <p class="i2">The cup of joy would be,</p> + + <p>And fingers numbed, and chattering jaw,</p> + + <p>Owned unexpelled the winter's flaw,</p> + + <p>And on the steps the goodmen slip,</p> + + <p class="i2">And shout the major D.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Long like a fossil tipsy-cake</p> + + <p class="i2">The sponge each morn appeared;</p> + + <p>The bath, if plenished over-night,</p> + + <p>Was frozen ere the morning light,</p> + + <p>And more that frigid water-ache</p> + + <p class="i2">Than unwashed days I feared,</p> + + <p>Now while the milder zephyrs shake</p> + + <p class="i2">Once more the winter's might,</p> + + <p>My sponge, my bath, by loss endeared,</p> + + <p>Shall dree no more a lonely weird;</p> + + <p>And as young ducks to water take,</p> + + <p class="i2">Shall be my bath ward flight.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>Good Devon!</h3> + + <p>Mr. W.H. SMITH will return to Grosvenor Place from Torquay + on Monday, for the opening of Parliament.</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>'Tis pity of you, OLD MORALITY,</p> + + <p>Back from your rest to loud banality.</p> + + <p>After St. Stephen's shindy, Devon</p> + + <p>No doubt appeared a very heaven:</p> + + <p>But cream's as much like water chalky</p> + + <p>As Torquay Torrs to Talky-Talky!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>CHANGE OF INITIALS.</h3> + + <p>"Often as I may have been invited," Mr. T.M. HEALY is + reported to have said, in the course of a recent speech, "I + never yet put a toe inside his house." Memorable words. + Henceforth, name changed to TOE-AND-HEALY, M.P.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>A WORD TO MOTHERS.</h2> + + <blockquote> + <p>[A well-known Dramatic Critic has recently spoken of a + play as "just the play in which growing girls will + delight."]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>O ANXIOUS Mothers, come and listen</p> + + <p class="i2">To what just now I've got to say.</p> + + <p>If I'm not wrong, your eyes will glisten</p> + + <p class="i2">Before the end of this my lay.</p> + + <p>With strong affection overflowing—</p> + + <p class="i2">Your children are indeed your + pearls—</p> + + <p>You can't help feeling pleased at knowing</p> + + <p class="i2">The play's the thing—for growing + girls!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The pages of a lady's journal</p> + + <p class="i2">I've very often read with care,</p> + + <p>The news, the gossiping eternal,</p> + + <p class="i2">You're always sure of getting there.</p> + + <p>Of how you ought to bind your tresses,</p> + + <p class="i2">The latest styles, the tint in hair,</p> + + <p>And there I've seen the kind of dresses</p> + + <p class="i2">It's right for growing girls to wear.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But never once the slightest mention</p> + + <p class="i2">Of what they'd better go and see,</p> + + <p>And yet it's clear that some attention</p> + + <p class="i2">To such a thing there ought to be.</p> + + <p>For sentiment and love they're frantic,</p> + + <p class="i2">They're fond of knights and belted + earls,</p> + + <p>A play that's just the least romantic—</p> + + <p class="i2">Yes, that's the play for growing + girls.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>A crowing child, who loves to prattle,</p> + + <p class="i2">Can easily be kept at rest.</p> + + <p>You've only got to get a rattle,</p> + + <p class="i2">Or p'raps a dolly would be best.</p> + + <p>A bouncing boy will blow a bubble,</p> + + <p class="i2">And want no more the livelong day;</p> + + <p>But if a growing girl gives trouble,</p> + + <p class="i2">You've got to take her to the play!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>A PIONEER IN PETTICOATS.</h2> + + <blockquote> + <p>[An American Lady is about to explore Africa, on humane + principles.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Arrive in Africa</i>.—Convinced that real way of + taming the savage heart is by <i>Feminine Tact</i>. No need of + brutal habits of male adventurers. Two negresses, from "Ole + Virginny," with me, who said they would like to "see Africa + again"; a few Arabs, to carry our baggage. Intend to study + home-life of African tribes, and to get them to talk into my + phonograph.</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:18%;"> + <a href="images/45.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/45.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p><i>Month Later</i>.—Have had to exhibit more Feminine + Tact than I expected. Got entangled in swampy forest on Zambesi + (I think), and Arabs declined to extricate us unless their pay + was doubled! Also one of negresses—horrid + woman!—has deserted me—come to place that she + pretended to recognise as her native village, and said she + meant to stay! Tact useless with females!</p> + + <p><i>On Lake Tanganyika</i>—or if it isn't Lake + Tanganyika, it's <i>an entirely new lake</i>,—which I + have been the first to discover! Suffer a good deal from fever + and queer diet. Am studying native home-life.</p> + + <p><i>Later</i>.—Have left two Arabs and my remaining + negress on Lake, and gone myself to look for STANLEY's Dwarfs. + Told that TIPPOO TIB is somewhere about. Also advised to be + very careful not to fall in with the "man-eating Manyuema."</p> + + <p><i>Still Later</i>.—Did fall in with them! Also fell + out with them. They made all preparations for using me as a + side-dish at a cannibal banquet, when TIPPOO TIB arrived and + released me.</p> + + <p><i>Tanganyika again!</i>—Back here safe and sound! + TIPPOO TIB turned out most unsatisfactory. Wanted to marry + me!—with a hundred other wives already! Not prepared for + <i>this</i> sort of home-life. Managed to get away by + describing to him a Remington typewriter, and promising if he + let me go, to bring one back <i>at once</i>.</p> + + <p>Find that my "rear-guard"—the negress and + Arabs—have been up to fearful pranks during my absence. + Negress killed and ate one of Arabs, and then other Arab killed + and ate negress! Tell remaining Arab I shall have him punished + when I get to Coast. Arab says he'll get there first, and + publish a book showing <i>me</i> up!</p> + + <p><i>Latest</i>.—Left alone in middle of Africa, with a + phonograph, several bales of baggage, and a diary. Question now + is—will Feminine Tact show me road to Zanzibar?</p> + <hr /> + + <p>UNIVERSITY HONOURS.—"SMITH's Prizeman"—ARTHUR + BALFOUR. The "Senior Wrangler" (for several years + past)—Mr. GLADSTONE.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE AMUSING RATTLE'S TOPICAL NOTE-BOOK.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>For the Use of Professional Diners-out and other + Amateur Entertainers.</i>)</h4> + + <p><i>The Meeting of Parliament</i>.—This is not a very + promising subject, but mild mirth may be produced in outlying + districts (say Southend or Honiton, Devon) by observing, that + the rock upon which the Irish Party went to pieces was a happy + one—in fact, a GLAD-STONE. This, strictly speaking, is + <i>not</i> a new jest, and therefore must be helped out by a + burst of self-supplied laughter. You might add, that as Members + of Parliament are obliged, by the rules of the House, to + address their colleagues <i>standing</i>, there would he little + chance of a <i>seated</i> discussion. But you must, however, + take care to cough when you say <i>seated</i>, so that those on + the look-out for a brilliant <i>bon-mot</i> may know that you + mean <i>heated</i>.</p> + + <p><i>The Revolt in Chili</i>.—The name of the place in + which the disturbances have occurred will help you effectively + to remark that the outbreak is seasonable during the present + inclement weather. As the Army sympathises with the Government, + and the sister service with the rioters, you can suggest "that + knaves would, of course, be supported by the <i>Navy</i>!" This + may lead up to a really magnificent burst of waggery in the + assertion that the dissentients must of necessity be "all at + sea."</p> + + <p><i>The New Archbishop of York</i>.—Insist that his + Grace is a Scotchman, and not an Irishman, and prove your + proposition by declaring that the road to success was "MACGEE's + (pronounced MAGGIE's) secret!" This really splendid flash of + humour will bear polishing—as written it seems a little + in the rough. You may refer to the Primate's universally + acknowledged partiality for quiet sarcasm, by saying that "ever + since he joined the ecclesiastical Bench he has been known as + an <i>arch</i> Bishop!" These entertaining quibbles, delicately + handled, should be received with enthusiasm at a five o'clock + tea in a Deanery.</p> + + <p><i>The New Play at the Haymarket</i>.—As the plot + turns upon the doings of the Society of Friends, you may + extract a jest by saying "that many of the characters trembled + with anxiety before its production—in fact, were + <i>quakers</i>!" The name of the Manager of the Haymarket has + frequently been the subject of a quip, if not a crank; still it + may yet serve as a peg for slyly observing that, "At the fall + of the Curtain, TREE, naturally enough, appeared with a + <i>bough</i>!"</p> + + <p><i>The Weather</i>.—Of course you must introduce this + subject, and as everything that <i>can</i> be said <i>has</i> + been said about it, you may quote SYDNEY SMITH as your + authority for observing, that the only possible sport for + M.F.H.'s at this time of the year must be "<i>hunt—the + slipper!</i>" If the point of this "good thing" is not + immediately obvious, the fault will be with SIDNEY SMITH, and + not with you. And this quaint oddity should satiate your + audience with mirth and merriment until next week—and + even longer!</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page46" + id="page46"></a>[pg 46]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/46.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/46.png" + alt="A COLD RECEPTION.</h3>" /></a> + + <h3>A COLD RECEPTION: OR PARLIAMENT MEETING IN A + BLIZZARD.</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page47" + id="page47"></a>[pg 47]</span> + + <h2>STILL ANOTHER CHAPTER OF MY MEMOIR.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>In Supplement of "Harper."</i>)</h4> + + <h4>BY MONSIEUR VAN DE BLOWITZOWN TROMP.</h4> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/47-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/47-1.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>Forget at this moment where I was born, but I lived long + enough at Marseilles to be married in that great southern + French city. My wife's father had been in the Marines; her + uncle (on the grandfather's side) had been a <i>Sapeur + pompier</i>. Thus did I, as it were, become <i>lié</i> with the + sea and land forces of my adopted country. My wife's mother was + a descendant of a noble but anonymous family in the Vosges, + whilst her maternal uncle was accustomed to attach to himself + some local unpopularity by preferring for investigation a + complicated sheet which set forth his genealogy, tracing his + origin back to the Bourbons.</p> + + <p>You ask me which Bourbon? I frankly answer, I cannot tell. + My wife's maternal uncle spoke of them as "<i>the</i> + Bourbons," just as you talk of "<i>the</i> Groceries," and no + one asks you <i>Lequel</i>? As for my own ancestry, I do not + speak of it. I have never been in the habit of thrusting myself + on the attention of the public. It is sufficient for me that my + wife's maternal uncle's ancestors were Bourbons.</p> + + <p>I first began to take charge of public affairs in connection + with an election that took place in the city where I found + myself. M. DE LESSEPS opposed THIERS and GAMBETTA. He presented + himself as an independent candidate. Was he? I suspected. + Already I had my secret agents in every centre of population. + One, whose letter bore the post-mark the Pyramids, placed in my + hand proof that DE LESSEPS was an official candidate of the + Empire. I secretly conveyed this information to a local + newspaper. The news burst like a tempest on the public of + Marseilles, and swept away in its irresistible whirl the + candidature of M. DE LESSEPS.</p> + + <p>This was pretty well for a first newspaper paragraph, worth + at the time, as I remember thinking, more than the paltry three + sous a line that became my due. But I had made more than a few + sous—I had made an enemy! Years after, BISMARCK told me + how, chatting with NAPOLEON THE THIRD at Donchery, that fallen + monarch had recalled this incident, in which his prophetic eye + justly discerned the beginning of the end. He admitted that he + had said to the EMPRESS, "France is too small for me and VAN DE + BLOWITZOWN TROMP. One of us must cross <i>la Manche</i>."</p> + + <p>Sublime! One of us did.</p> + + <p>But my time was not yet. My friends advised, nay, besought + me to leave Marseilles. Towards the end of this year (1869) I + took their advice, and retired to a small property I chanced to + have in the centre of the Landes. This place being dry, and + somewhat remote, was peculiarly suitable for watching the + growth of great problems with a mind unbiassed by any knowledge + of facts. I saw the Franco-German question grow, and I foresaw + how it would end. I wrote to THIERS, and told him all about it. + When the war broke out I mounted my stilts, and cautiously made + my way across the untrodden track, following my Destiny. I had + predicted the downfall of the Empire, and, in its last gasp, + the Empire strove to wither me. Proceedings had been commenced, + when Sedan put an end to them.</p> + + <p>At this epoch France was on her knees, beaten down by the + German hand, her eyes blind with blood and tears. One thing + alone could cheer her. I could do it, and I did. I applied for + Letters of Naturalisation. Some weeks later I became a French + citizen, and received a letter from M. ADOLPH CRÉMIEUX, then + Minister of Justice, and never suspected of being a wag. He + wrote: "Your application for Naturalisation in the midst of our + great disasters, is for me the signal of a new life for us. A + country which in the midst of such catastrophes recruits + citizens like you, is not to be despaired of."</p> + + <p>Years after, THIERS, then President of the Republic, said, + "I never will forget that you became a Frenchman in the time of + our misfortunes." EDMUND ABOUT picturesquely said, "<i>Il s'est + fait naturaliser vaincu.</i>" BISMARCK has told me that the + Emperor WILLIAM, then at Versailles, in the first flush of + triumph at touch on his brow of the Imperial diadem, hearing of + the event through the capturing of a balloon despatched with + the news to dolorous Paris, passed a sleepless night.</p> + + <p>"I fear me" he said, "all will now be lost."</p> + + <p>"Not at all, your Majesty," said BISMARCK, affecting an + indifference he assures me he did not feel. "There is not even + a Frenchman the more. They have lost an Emperor and gained VAN + DE BLOWITZOWN TROMP. <i>Ce met égal.</i>"</p> + + <p>"Not quite," said the Emperor, with subtle flattery. The + Emperor WILLIAM, though he had his failings, was a keen judge + of the comparative value of men.</p> + + <p>The limits of this article compel me to glance hastily over + succeeding epochs in a career with the main drift of which the + civilised world is already familiar. After saving Marseilles to + the Republic, by a series of actions alternating between + desperate valour and brilliant strategy, I went to Paris to + report on the great event. Calling on the official entrusted + with the duty of considering claims to decorations, I began at + once by saying that my own name must not be taken into + consideration.</p> + + <p>"Let my name," I said, gently but firmly, "be scored out in + the proposed list of decorations."</p> + + <p>"<i>Mais, Monsieur</i>" he said, "there is no such + list."</p> + + <p>I, however, was not to be put off with excuse of that kind. + I insisted, both to the Secretary of the Minister of War, to M. + THIERS, that I should not be decorated. I was only too + successful. When the list came out, all my associates at + Marseilles were decorated. I was not included. This was all + right. It was what I had requested. I could say nothing. All + the same, I could not help thinking that my advice had been too + literally accepted.</p> + + <p>Every morning, for a week after, I called on M. THIERS. At + the end of the sixth day he said, "You must go to Riga. I do + not quite know where it is, but it sounds remote. You shall be + Consul at Riga." I was delighted. Like the President, I was not + sure where Riga was; but the salary was certain, and there was + fine old Roman flavour about the title Consul.</p> + + <p>But it was not to be. I was predestined to be a great + Newspaper Correspondent. How that came about cannot be told in + this chapter. I will only say that early in my new career I + secured the approbation of Mr. DELANE, who, I need scarcely + say, was the most competent judge the world ever saw of the + merits of a journalist.</p> + + <p>At the risk of being dry and bald, I have confined myself to + telling accurately what has happened, my greatest ambition + being to leave no one the chance of misrepresenting, as his + whim, fancy, or passion may dictate, facts in which I am so + deeply interested. Let those note them who, after my time, have + to defend my memory should it ever be attacked.</p> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:40%;"> + <a href="images/47-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/47-2.png" + alt="The Shinner Quartette." /></a>"The Shinner + Quartette;" or, Musical Football. + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>"MORE HONOURED IN THE BREACH THAN THE + OBSERVANCE."—Breach of Promise cases—as a rule.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page48" + id="page48"></a>[pg 48]</span> + + <h2>A GENERAL VIEW OF "PRIVATE INQUIRY."</h2> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:25%;"> + <a href="images/48.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/48.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>I am sufficiently old-fashioned, when I go to the play, to + wish to be amused. I frankly admit I do not care to be taught a + lesson, or to have my mind harrowed by the presentation of some + psychological study. I can remember WRIGHT, and even HARLEY, + and the days when a good piece of fun was the last item of the + programme at the Adelphi and the Olympic—the chief + attraction of the Pittites, who patronised "half-price." This + being so, I am glad to find at the Strand—a theatre + recalling memories of JIMMY ROGERS and JOHNNY CLARKE, PATTY + OLIVER and CHARLOTTE SAUNDERS, to say nothing of a lady who was + not only Queen of Comedy but Empress of + Burlesque—"<i>Private Inquiry</i>," a thoroughly well + acted and rattling farce in three Acts. It is from the French, + but as the task of adaptation has been entrusted to the Author + who turned <i>Bébé</i> the Frisky into <i>Betsy</i> the + Wholesome, any scruples of conscience that the LORD CHAMBERLAIN + may possibly have entertained on reading the original have been + successfully removed, and the play, consequently, is not only + highly entertaining, but absolutely free from offence. I did + not see it until it had reached its eighth night, and I do not + remember a piece, taken as a whole, so excellently acted. + Although he does not appear until the Second Act, Mr. WILLIE + EDOUIN, as <i>'Arry 'Ooker</i>, the Private Inquiry Agent, is + <i>the</i> feature of the performance. His politeness to + ladies, his assumption of businesslike habits, suggested by his + reading and spiking of bogus telegrams brought to him when he + is engaged with a client, his urbanity under difficulties, and + his cheerful acceptance of the inevitable in whatever shape + presented, are all admirable points, and points that are fully + appreciated by the audience. Roars of laughter follow the one + after the other when <i>'Arry 'Ooker</i> is on the stage. + Nothing can be more absurd than his make-up, his bows, his + grimaces, and yet under the surface there is a vein of pathos + that causes one to feel a pang of genuine regret when the + poverty-stricken, light-hearted rogue, who, if he cannot secure + a hundred guineas, is equally ready to accept a "tenner," is + marched oft to penal servitude as the Curtain falls. The clerk + of this entertaining individual, <i>Toby</i>, is played by a + boy like a boy, by Master Buss. Farther, Mr. ALFRED MALTBY + could not be better as the suspicious and bamboozled husband, + <i>Richard Wrackham</i>. Again, even the small part of + <i>Alexander</i>, a Waiter, is well played. Once more—the + ladies, without exception, are capital; and as a result of this + all-round excellence, the piece "goes," from a quarter to nine + till just eleven, with a <i>verve</i> that must be most + satisfactory to all concerned. So I can congratulate the Author + upon a piece full of lines that tell, and the Manager upon a + play that is likely to rival in popularity its predecessor, the + phenomenally-successful <i>Our Flat.</i> And I can offer these + congratulations with a dear conscience, because I am neither + Author of the piece nor Manager of the theatre, but as Mr. + RUDYARD KIPLING might observe, QUITE ANOTHER FELLOW.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>LARKS!</h2> + + <p>SIR,—I am surprised that any of your Correspondents + should doubt that birds eat snow. There is a bull-finch in my + aviary, and I tried him. He ate it ravenously. Strange to say, + he has not uttered a sound since! My wife says, "Probably his + <i>pipe</i> is frozen." This is such a good joke, I think you + ought to have it.</p> + + <p>Yours, LOVER OF NATURE.</p> + + <p>SIR,—You may like to have the following story in + support of the idea that animals are aware that snow is frozen + water. It was related to me by a rather rackety nephew, who has + lived part of his life in South America, and whose word can be + strictly relied on. He relates that once, when he was + travelling among the Andes, at an elevation of some twenty + thousand feet, his mules became very thirsty, and no water was + obtainable. Each animal seized a <i>calabash</i> with its + teeth, filled it with snow, and trotted off to the crater of an + adjacent volcano; it then waited till the lava melted the snow, + which it drank up, and finally trotted back again. My nephew + says he should not have believed a mule could be so clever, if + he had not seen it.</p> + + <p>Yours obediently, SAMUEL SOBERSIDES.</p> + + <p>SIR,—Since writing you that letter about our + bull-finch, I have discovered an even more surprising fact, + which I am sure no Naturalist has yet dreamed of. Not only do + birds appreciate snow, but they are very fond of <i>iced + beverages</i>. A tom-tit, who often drinks water from a saucer + which we put on our window-sill, one day found the water + frozen. What did the intelligent creature do? Why, it rapped on + the window-pane with its beak till the window was opened, then + hopped on to the sideboard, and began trying to peck the cork + out of a whiskey bottle! I took the hint, and poured some of + the spirit into the saucer; the bird drank it greedily! My + wife's comment on this occurrence is really too good to be + lost, so I send it you. She said, "Evidently the bird was not a + <i>tomtitotaller</i>!"</p> + + <p>Yours, in convulsions, LOVER OF NATURE (<i>as + before</i>).</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>A PINT OF HALF-AND-HALF.</h2> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"'<i>Qui va la?</i>' says he."</p> + + <p>"'<i>Je</i>,' replies I, knowing the language."</p> + + <p class="i10">"<i>Jeames" and another Old + Story</i>.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>The international susceptibilities of Sheriff + DRURIOLANUS—henceforth to bear the Anglo-French title, + <i>Monsieur le Shérif 'Arris de Paris</i>, or <i>'Arry de + Parry</i>,—appear to have been considerably hurt by a + statement in the <i>Débats</i> to the effect that the + appearance in the London streets of men dressed as + Gendarmes—"<i>en gendarmes français</i>," writes MOSSOO + DRURIOLANE—intended as perambulating advertisements for + the Waterloo Panorama, was due to a supreme effort of his + managerial genius. So Shérif DRURIOLANE wrote at once to the + London Correspondent of the <i>Figaro</i>, who bears the + singularly French name of JOHNSON, denying, in his very best + French, that he, M. le Shérif, had had anything to do with + these walking advertisements, or, indeed, with the Panorama + Company at all, from which he had retired a year ago. Then he + adds, like the <i>preux chevalier</i> he is known to be, that + had he still been on the direction of the aforesaid + <i>Compagnie</i>, he, at all events, would never, never have + committed the enormity of even suggesting, however vaguely, an + idea so calculated to needlessly insult "<i>les susceptibilités + françaises</i>." ("<i>Hear! hear!</i>" and "<i>Très bien!</i>" + from the left.) Then M. le Shérif DRURIOLANE, rising to the + occasion, finishes with this magnificent flourish on the French + horn—"<i>Je suit né en France</i>"—(Isn't it very + much "to his credit," we ask with W.S.G., that, "In spite of + all temptations, To belong to other nations, He remains an + Englishman?" Why, certainly)—"<i>j'ai vécu parmi les + Français, et je suis à moitié enfant de Paris</i>."</p> + + <p>Beautiful! <i>Magnifique!</i> Our DRURIOLANUS is surpassing + even the G.O.M., who has been born, more or less, everywhere, + except in Paris. Should the Republic be in danger, or should + Monarchists or Imperialists get a chance and want a man for the + place, let them wire to DRURIOLANUS, "<i>à moitié enfant de + Paris</i>" and the "<i>Enfant</i>"—"<i>Enfant</i> ARRIS," + not "<i>Enfant</i> GATTI"—will be ready, aye ready, to + assume the purple, and to bring all his properties with him. + "<i>À moitié</i>"—and the other half? That will ever + remain British. So <i>à la santé de Monsieur le + Shérif-enfant-de-Londres-et-Paris</i>, in a pint of + Half-and-half, and let it, like Le Shérif himself, have a good + head on!</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE ROLLING OF THE R'S.</h2> + + <blockquote> + <p>"We are told that the omission to roll it (the letter + <i>r</i>) is as flagrant a misdemeanor as the dropping of + the <i>h</i>."—<i>James Payn in the Illustrated + News</i>.</p> + </blockquote> + + <h4>AIR—"<i>The Wearing of the Green</i>."</h4> + + <h4><i>Soft-spoken Person sings:—</i></h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>It's vewy wong, widiculous, and howwid, I've no + doubt,</p> + + <p class="i2">To leave that little letter <i>r</i> + unuttahed or unwolled;</p> + + <p>But if you <i>haven't</i> any <i>r</i>'s you've got + to do without,</p> + + <p class="i2">And I can no maw woll <i>my r</i>'s than + dwink my clawet cold.</p> + + <p>A Dowie wuggedness of speech I weally <i>can't</i> + attain,</p> + + <p class="i2">And though gwammawians may wave in + leadewetts and pars,</p> + + <p>I quite agwee with good JAMES PAYN that all their + wow is vain,</p> + + <p class="i2">The angwy wout must do without "the + wolling of the <i>r</i>'s!"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>HAGIOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL NOTE.—Dr. HAROLD BROWNE, + "the retiring Bishop" of Winchester, as he is called, on + account of his innate modesty, wrote to the people of Farnham + to say that, "never was there a Bishop since the time of his + earliest predecessor in the See, St. Swithin, more literally + 'at home' at Farnham Castle than himself." To this fact Dr. + H.B. is, perhaps, unaware that the Saint in question owed his + name, as when any visitor called to ask if he were at home, the + Hall-porter of the period invariably answered, "Yes, Saint's + within." Dr. HAROLD BROWNE is welcome to this information, + which ought to have been in <i>Notes and Queries</i>.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>It is said that the invitations for the Drury Lane + celebration of Twelfth Night will not be sent out with so free + a hand next year, the young men on the recent occasion having + been so Baddeley behaved.</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 12872 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/12872-h/images/37.png b/12872-h/images/37.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..521e451 --- /dev/null +++ b/12872-h/images/37.png diff --git a/12872-h/images/38.png b/12872-h/images/38.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d4eec22 --- /dev/null +++ b/12872-h/images/38.png diff --git a/12872-h/images/39.png b/12872-h/images/39.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..de27443 --- /dev/null +++ b/12872-h/images/39.png diff --git a/12872-h/images/40.png b/12872-h/images/40.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b633d60 --- /dev/null +++ b/12872-h/images/40.png diff --git a/12872-h/images/41.png b/12872-h/images/41.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b62d4c1 --- /dev/null +++ b/12872-h/images/41.png diff --git a/12872-h/images/42.png b/12872-h/images/42.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd2f93d --- /dev/null +++ b/12872-h/images/42.png diff --git a/12872-h/images/43.png b/12872-h/images/43.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d76808c --- /dev/null +++ b/12872-h/images/43.png diff --git a/12872-h/images/45.png b/12872-h/images/45.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a7058af --- /dev/null +++ b/12872-h/images/45.png diff --git a/12872-h/images/46.png b/12872-h/images/46.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6f12493 --- /dev/null +++ b/12872-h/images/46.png diff --git a/12872-h/images/47-1.png b/12872-h/images/47-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ae2873 --- /dev/null +++ b/12872-h/images/47-1.png diff --git a/12872-h/images/47-2.png b/12872-h/images/47-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dc3d2e2 --- /dev/null +++ b/12872-h/images/47-2.png diff --git a/12872-h/images/48.png b/12872-h/images/48.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0502200 --- /dev/null +++ b/12872-h/images/48.png |
