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+ <meta http-equiv="Content-Type"
+ content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" />
+
+ <title>Punch, May 23, 1891.</title>
+ <style type="text/css">
+ /*<![CDATA[*/
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+ html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;}
+
+ .note
+ {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;}
+
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+ {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt;}
+
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+ .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;}
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+ .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;}
+
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 100,
+May 23, 1891, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 100, May 23, 1891
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: September 2, 2004 [EBook #13352]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+ <h1>PUNCH,<br />
+ OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1>
+
+ <h2>Vol. 100.</h2>
+ <hr class="full" />
+
+ <h2>May 23, 1891.</h2>
+ <hr class="full" />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page241"
+ id="page241"></a>[pg 241]</span>
+
+ <h2>MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN.</h2>
+
+ <h4>(<i>Condensed and Revised Version, by Mr. P.'s Own Harmless
+ Ibsenite.</i>)</h4>
+
+ <h3>No. IV.&mdash;THE WILD DUCK.</h3>
+
+ <h4>ACT I.</h4>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p><i>At</i> WERLE's <i>house. In front a
+ richly-upholstered study</i>. (R.) <i>a green-baize door
+ leading to</i> WERLE's <i>office. At back, open folding
+ doors, revealing an elegant dining-room, in which a
+ brilliant Norwegian dinner-party is going on. Hired Waiters
+ in profusion. A glass is tapped with a knife. Shouts of
+ "Bravo!"</i> Old Mr. WERLE <i>is heard making a long
+ speech, proposing&mdash;according to the custom of
+ Norwegian society on such occasions&mdash;the health of his
+ Housekeeper</i>, Mrs. SÖRBY. <i>Presently several
+ short-sighted, flabby, and thin-haired</i> Chamberlains,
+ <i>enter from the dining-room, with</i> HIALMAR EKDAL,
+ <i>who writhes shyly under their remarks.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <p><i>A Chamberlain</i>. As we are the sole surviving specimens
+ of Norwegian nobility, suppose we sustain our reputation as
+ aristocratic sparklers by enlarging upon the enormous amount we
+ have eaten, and chaffing HIALMAR EKDAL, the friend of our
+ host's son, for being a professional Photographer?</p>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:30%;">
+ <a href="images/241.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/241.png"
+ alt="'Father, a word with you in private. I loathe you!'" />
+ </a>"Father, a word with you in private. I loathe you!"
+ </div>
+
+ <p><i>The other Chamberlains</i>. Bravo! We will.</p>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>They do; delight of</i> HIALMAR. Old WERLE <i>comes
+ in, leaning on his</i> Housekeeper's <i>arm, followed by
+ his son</i>, GREGERS WERLE.</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <p><i>Old Werle</i> (<i>dejectedly</i>). Thirteen at table!
+ (<i>To</i> GREGERS, <i>with a meaning glance at</i> HIALMAR.)
+ This is the result of inviting an old College friend who has
+ turned Photographer! Wasting vintage wines on <i>him</i>,
+ indeed!</p>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>He passes on gloomily.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <p><i>Hialmar</i> (<i>to Gregers</i>). I am almost sorry I
+ came. Your old min is <i>not</i> friendly. Yet he set me up as
+ a Photographer fifteen years ago. <i>Now</i> he takes me down!
+ But for him, I should never have married GINA, who, you may
+ remember, was a servant in your family once.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Gregers</i>. What? my old College friend married fifteen
+ years ago&mdash;and to our GINA, of all people! If I had not
+ been up at the works all these years, I suppose I should have
+ heard something of such an event. But my father never mentioned
+ it. Odd!</p>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>He ponders</i>; Old EKDAL <i>comes out through the
+ green-baize door, bowing, and begging pardon, carrying
+ copying work.</i> Old WERLE <i>says "Ugh" and "Puh"
+ involuntarily.</i> HIALMAR <i>shrinks back, and looks
+ another way. A</i> Chamberlain <i>asks him pleasantly if he
+ knows that old man.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <p><i>Hialmar</i>. I&mdash;oh no. Not in the least. No
+ relation!</p>
+
+ <p><i>Gregers</i> (<i>shocked</i>). What, HIALMAR, you, with
+ your great soul, deny your own father!</p>
+
+ <p><i>Hialmar</i> (<i>vehemently</i>). Of course&mdash;what
+ else <i>can</i> a Photographer do with a disreputable old
+ parent, who has been in a Penitentiary for making a fraudulent
+ map? I shall leave this splendid banquet. The Chamberlains are
+ not kind to me, and I feel the crushing hand of fate on my
+ head! [<i>Goes out hastily, feeling it.</i></p>
+
+ <p><i>Mrs. Sörby</i> (<i>archly</i>). Any Nobleman here say
+ "Cold Punch"?</p>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>Every Nobleman says "Cold Punch," and follows her
+ out in search of it with enthusiasm</i>. GREGERS
+ <i>approaches his father, who wishes he would go.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <p><i>Gregers</i>. Father, a word with you in private. I loathe
+ you. I am nothing if not candid. Old EKDAL was your partner
+ once, and it's my firm belief you deserved a prison quite as
+ much as he did. However, you surely need not have married our
+ GINA to my old friend HIALMAR. You know very well she was no
+ better than she should have been!</p>
+
+ <p><i>Old Werle</i>. True&mdash;but then no more is Mrs. SÖRBY.
+ And <i>I</i> am going to marry <i>her</i>&mdash;if you have no
+ objection, that is.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Gregers</i>. None in the world! How can I object to a
+ stepmother who is playing Blind Man's Buff at the present
+ moment with the Norwegian nobility? I am not so overstrained as
+ all that. But really I can<i>not</i> allow my old friend
+ HIALMAR, with his great, confiding, childlike mind, to remain
+ in contented ignorance of GINA's past. No, I see my mission in
+ life at last! I shall take my hat, and inform him that his home
+ is built upon a lie. He will be <i>so</i> much obliged to me!
+ [<i>Takes his hat, and goes out.</i></p>
+
+ <p><i>Old Werle</i>. Ha!&mdash;I am a wealthy merchant, of
+ dubious morals, and I am about to marry my housekeeper, who is
+ on intimate terms with the Norwegian aristocracy. I have a son
+ who loathes me, and who is either an Ibsenian satire on the
+ Master's own ideals, or else an utterly impossible prig&mdash;I
+ don't know or care which. Altogether, I flatter myself my
+ household affords an accurate and realistic picture of
+ Scandinavian Society!</p>
+
+ <h4>ACT II.</h4>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>HIALMAR EKDAL's <i>Photographic Studio. Cameras,
+ neck-rests, and other instruments of torture lying
+ about</i>. GINA EKDAL <i>and</i> HEDWIG, <i>her daughter,
+ aged 14, and wearing spectacles, discovered sitting up
+ for</i> HIALMAR.</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <p><i>Hedvig</i>. Grandpapa is in his room with a bottle of
+ brandy and a jug of hot water, doing some fresh copying work.
+ Father is in society, dining out. He promised he would bring me
+ home something nice!</p>
+
+ <p><i>Hialmar</i> (<i>coming in, in evening dress</i>). And he
+ has not forgotten his promise, my child. Behold! (<i>he
+ presents her with the menu card</i>; HEDVIG <i>gulps down her
+ tears</i>; HIALMAR <i>notices her disappointment, with
+ annoyance.</i>) And this all the gratitude I get! After dining
+ out and coming home in a dress-coat and boots, which are
+ disgracefully tight! Well, well, just to show you how hurt I
+ am, I won't have any <i>beer</i> now! What a selfish brute I
+ am! (<i>Relenting.</i>) You may bring me just a little drop.
+ (<i>He bursts into tears.</i>) I will play you a plaintive
+ Bohemian dance on my flute. (<i>He does.</i>) No beer at such a
+ sacred moment as this! (<i>He drinks.</i>) Ha, this is real
+ domestic bliss!</p>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[GREGERS WERLE <i>comes in, in a countrified
+ suit.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <p><i>Gregers</i>. I have left my father's
+ home&mdash;dinner-party and all&mdash;for ever. I am coming to
+ lodge with you.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Hialmar</i> (<i>still melancholy</i>). Have some bread
+ and butter. You won't? then I <i>will</i>. I want it, after
+ your father's lavish hospitality. (HEDVIG <i>goes to fetch
+ bread and butter.</i>) My daughter&mdash;a poor shortsighted
+ little thing&mdash;but mine own.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Gregers</i>. My father has had to take to strong glasses,
+ too&mdash;he can hardly see after dinner. (<i>To</i> Old EKDAL,
+ <i>who stumbles in very drunk.</i>) How can you, Lieutenant
+ EKDAL, who were such a keen sportsman once, live in this poky
+ little hole?</p>
+
+ <p><i>Old Ekdal</i>. I am a sportsman still. The only
+ difference is that once I shot bears in a forest, and now I pot
+ tame rabbits in a garret. Quite as amusing&mdash;and safer.</p>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>He goes to sleep on a sofa.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <p><i>Hialmar</i> (<i>with pride</i>). It is quite true. You
+ shall see.</p>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>He pushes back sliding doors, and reveals a garret
+ full of rabbits and poultry&mdash;moonlight effect.</i>
+ HEDVIG <i>returns with bread and butter.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <p><i>Hedvig</i> (<i>to</i> GREGERS). If you stand just there,
+ you get the best view of our Wild Duck. We are very proud of
+ her, because she gives the play its title, you know, and has to
+ be brought into the dialogue a good deal. Your father, peppered
+ her out shooting, and we saved her life.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Hialmar</i>. Yes, GREGERS, our estate is not
+ large&mdash;but still we preserve, you see. And my poor old
+ father and I sometimes get a day's gunning in the garret. He
+ shoots with a pistol, which my illiterate wife here <i>will</i>
+ call a "pigstol." He once, when he got into trouble, pointed it
+ at himself. But the descendant of two lieutenant-colonels who
+ had never quailed before living rabbit yet, faltered then. He
+ <i>didn't</i> shoot. Then I put it to my own head. But at the
+ decisive moment, I won the victory over myself. I remained in
+ life. Now we only shoot rabbits and fowls with it. After all I
+ am very happy and contented as I am. [<i>He eats some bread and
+ butter.</i></p>
+
+ <p><i>Gregers</i>. But you ought <i>not</i> to be. You have a
+ good deal of the Wild Duck about you. So have your wife and
+ daughter. You are living in marsh vapours. To-morrow I will
+ take you out for a walk and explain what I mean. It is my
+ mission in life. Good night! [<i>He goes out.</i></p>
+
+ <p><i>Gina and Hedwig</i>. What <i>was</i> the gentleman
+ talking about, Father?</p>
+
+ <p><i>Hialmar</i> (<i>eating bread and butter</i>). He has been
+ dining, you know. No matter&mdash;what <i>we</i> have to do
+ now, is to put my disreputable old whitehaired pariah of a
+ parent to bed.</p>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>He and</i> GINA <i>lift old</i> ECCLES<i>&mdash;we
+ mean old</i> EKDAL&mdash;<i>up by the legs and arms, and
+ take him off to led as the Curtain falls.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>COCKNEY MOTTO FOR A FEEBLE CRICKETER.&mdash;"Take 'Art of
+ GRACE!"</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page242"
+ id="page242"></a>[pg 242]</span>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:100%;">
+ <a href="images/242.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/242.png"
+ alt="PROPOSED HERALDIC DEVICE FOR THE LONDON COUNTY COUNCIL." />
+ </a>
+
+ <h3>PROPOSED HERALDIC DEVICE FOR THE LONDON COUNTY
+ COUNCIL.</h3>(<i>See opposite page.</i>)
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page243"
+ id="page243"></a>[pg 243]</span>
+
+ <h3>KEY TO THE PROPOSED HERALDIC DEVICE.</h3>
+
+ <p><i>Arms</i>.&mdash;Quarterly: 1. A female figure habited in
+ white robes reaching to the ankles, with Arms elevated, all
+ quite proper, for <i>Grace</i>. 2. A wildman or ratepayer
+ rampant, for <i>Thrift</i>. 3. A bend (or bar) sinister on a
+ chart vert, for <i>Bloomsbury</i>. 4. Three demi-councillors,
+ wings elevated, regardant an empty seat, for
+ <i>Vacancy</i>.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Crest</i>.&mdash;On a beadle's hat erased, a new
+ broom.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Supporters</i>.&mdash;Dexter, a Paul Pry regardant,
+ grasping an eyeglass sinister. Sinister, a Stiggins. Both
+ gorged.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Motto</i>.&mdash;"<i>Ubi nunc sumus?</i>"</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>FAMILIARITY BREEDS RESPECT.</h2>
+
+ <h4>(<i>A page from the Diary of a would-be but couldn't-be
+ Duellist.</i>)</h4>
+
+ <p><i>Monday</i>.&mdash;Arrived on the ground ready to fight my
+ opponent to the death. We had just measured the ground, when an
+ agent of Police appeared upon the scene, and we had to decamp
+ hurriedly. Duel postponed till to-morrow.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Tuesday</i>.&mdash;New spot chosen. Pistols this time
+ instead of rapiers. Just as we were about to fire, appearance
+ of the agents of the law. Postponement again absolutely
+ necessary.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Wednesday</i>.&mdash;Once more ready to meet. Both of us
+ rather amused at the precautions we have to take to prevent
+ interruption. Opponent obligingly suggested a new and suitable
+ spot for the settlement of our little differences. Found it to
+ be a most excellent selection, but before we could fight, once
+ more interrupted. Both of us greatly annoyed, and arranged to
+ meet to-morrow.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Thursday</i>.&mdash;Amused to find myself first in the
+ field&mdash;my opponent five minutes late. Both of us had come
+ before the seconds, and so spent the time in a pleasant little
+ chat, and cigarettes. My opponent not half a bad fellow when
+ you come to know him. Just as he was in the middle of a most
+ amusing story, our seconds arrived&mdash;with the Police!
+ Postponement once more imperative.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Friday</i>.&mdash;Opponent turned up first, and, at my
+ request, completed his yesterday's story&mdash;one of the best
+ I have ever heard. Most amusing chap&mdash;should have liked to
+ have heard another, when, finding ourselves uninterrupted, we
+ thought we had better seize the opportunity to settle our
+ affair of honour. Our customary luck! Seemingly had just time
+ to kill one another, when enter the Police! Programme as
+ before.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Saturday</i>.&mdash;Met again. Really quite pleased to
+ have made the acquaintance of such a nice fellow as my
+ opponent. Full of fun and anecdote. On comparing notes, we
+ found that we had entirely forgotten what on earth we had
+ quarrelled about. So shook hands and arranged that if we fired
+ at anyone, our target should be the Police.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h3>A PLEA FOR THE CART-HORSE PARADE SOCIETY.</h3>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>All who love English horses, and back English
+ Trade,</p>
+
+ <p>Should welcome the annual "Cart-Horse Parade."</p>
+
+ <p>No function of Fashion on Racecourse or Row</p>
+
+ <p>Should "fetch" our equestrian enthusiast so.</p>
+
+ <p>First-rate English horses in holiday guise!</p>
+
+ <p>A sight that to please a true Britisher's eyes.</p>
+
+ <p>And then the Society&mdash;surely <i>that</i> will
+ be</p>
+
+ <p>Supported by Britons. Ask good WALTER GILBEY</p>
+
+ <p>(Cambridge House, Regent's Park). He will tell you
+ no doubt</p>
+
+ <p>What the C.-H.P.S. have, some time, been about.</p>
+
+ <p>Fancy prizes to Carmen for care of their horses!</p>
+
+ <p>That charms a horse-lover. To plump the
+ resources</p>
+
+ <p>Of such a Society&mdash;by their support</p>
+
+ <p>In subscriptions&mdash;all friends of the horse and
+ of sport</p>
+
+ <p>Should surely be eager; so, horse-lovers
+ willing,</p>
+
+ <p>Despatch the gold pound plus the odd silver
+ shilling!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>HISTORY AND ART.&mdash;Doubts have been thrown on the
+ genuineness of the story about St. ELIZABETH of Hungary as
+ illustrated by Mr. CALDERON's well-known and striking picture
+ in this year's Academy. Mr. CALDERON affirms, according to the
+ best of his high lights, that he has simply portrayed the naked
+ truth. So far, in a certain sense, the Court is with him.
+ Still, historians are neither unbiassed nor infallible, and
+ painters are inclined to sacrifice much for effect. For our
+ part, we should be inclined to refer the situation, which this
+ picture illustrates, to some incident in the life of the
+ celebrated Miss ELIZABETH MARTIN, generally known as "BETTY
+ MARTIN." The legend may be found in some work by that
+ voluminous writer <i>Finis</i>, or by the oft-quoted
+ <i>Ibid</i>, under the quaint heading, <i>Historia Mei et Beati
+ Martini</i>.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>THE PICK OF THE PICTURES. (AT THE ROYAL ACADEMY.)</h2>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:60%;">
+ <a href="images/243-1.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/243-1.png"
+ alt="No. 164. Pilling Him. Affectionate wife insisting on the invalid taking a Bolus. Sidney Paget." />
+ </a>No. 164. Pilling Him. Affectionate wife insisting on
+ the invalid taking a Bolus. Sidney Paget.
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:60%;">
+ <a href="images/243-2.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/243-2.png"
+ alt="No. 259. 'A Select Committee.' H. Stacy Marks, R.A." />
+ </a>No. 259. "A Select Committee." H. Stacy Marks, R.A.
+ </div>
+
+ <p>No. 278. "<i>The Fleecy Charge</i>." A title that suggests
+ an attempt at extortion, but is here applied to <i>A picture in
+ wool-work</i> by the veteran, T. SYDNEY COOPER, R.A. Of course
+ whatever the artist may ask for it, it will always be "sheep at
+ the price."</p>
+
+ <p>No. 388. "<i>Writing a Message to St. Helena</i>." Hope St.
+ Helena received it. Probably forwarded by a winged messenger as
+ suggested by the name of the artist, which is EYRE CROWE,
+ A.</p>
+
+ <p>No. 519. "<i>Gorse</i>." By DAVID MURRAY. Good? Why
+ certainly, as a matter of gorse.</p>
+
+ <p>No. 697. Rather mixed subject, being "<i>Eventide</i>" by
+ KNIGHT.</p>
+
+ <p>No. 1161. "<i>A Maiden Fair</i>." By G.A. STOREY, A. Never
+ heard of such a thing as "a Maiden Fair," except in Oriental
+ countries. She seems to be having all the fun of the Fair to
+ herself. This concludes a series of Storeys in four numbers,
+ 356, 704, 1043 and 1161, making up his "Tale." "And now my
+ STOREY's done," that is, for this Season.</p>
+
+ <h4>SCULPTURE.</h4>
+
+ <p>No. 1962. "<i>Triumph</i>" of ADRIAN JONES. It is so. Quite
+ a triumph. The SMITHS, BROWNS and ROBINSONS nowhere compared
+ with A. JONES.</p>
+
+ <p>No. 2001. "<i>H.M. Stanley&mdash;bust.</i>" Is he? Poor
+ STANLEY! It is to be hoped that the EMIN-ent explorer will
+ forgive the sculptor, who is C.B. BIRCH, A. Fancy the
+ indomitable STANLEY never yet beaten, but BIRCH'd at last!</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page244"
+ id="page244"></a>[pg 244]</span>
+
+ <h2>MR. PUNCH'S PRIZE NOVELS.</h2>
+
+ <h3>No. XVIII.&mdash;MARIAN MUFFET: A ROMANCE OF
+ BLACKMORE.</h3>
+
+ <h4>(<i>By</i> R.D. EXMOOR, <i>Author of "Born a Spoon;"
+ "Paddock Rowel;" "Wit and Witty;" "Tips for Marriers;" "Scare a
+ Fawn;" "'Brellas for Rain," &amp;c., &amp;c., &amp;c.</i>)</h4>
+
+ <blockquote class="note">
+ <p>["This," writes Mr. EXMOOR, "is another of my simple
+ tales. Yet I send it forth into the world thinking that
+ haply there may be some, and they not of the baser sort,
+ who reading therein as the humour takes them, may draw from
+ it nurture for their minds. For truly it is in the nature
+ of fruit-trees, whereof, without undue vaunting, I may
+ claim to know somewhat, that the birds of the air, the
+ tits, the wrens, ay, even unto the saucy little sparrows,
+ whose firm spirit in warfare hath ever been one of my
+ chiefest marvels, should gather in the branches seeking for
+ provender. So in books, and herein too I have some small
+ knowledge, those that are of the ripest sort are ever the
+ first to be devoured. And if the public be pleased, how
+ shall he that made the book feel aught but gratitude.
+ Therefore I let it go, not being blind in truth to the
+ faults thereof, but with humble confidence too in much
+ compensating merit."]</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <h4>CHAPTER I.</h4>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:50%;">
+ <a href="images/244.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/244.png"
+ alt="" /></a>
+ </div>
+
+ <p>Fate, that makes sport alike of peasants and of kings,
+ turning the one to honour and a high seat, and making the other
+ to lie low in the estimation of men, though haply (as 'tis said
+ in our parish) he think no small beer of himself, hath
+ seemingly ordained that I, THOMAS TIDDLER, should set down in
+ order some doings wherein I had a share. And herein I make no
+ show of learning, being but an undoctrined farmer and not
+ skilled in the tricks of style, as the word is in these parts,
+ but trusting simply to strength and honesty (whereof, God
+ knows, there is but little beyond the limits of our farm), and
+ to that breezy carriage of the pen which favoureth a plain man
+ treading sturdily the winding paths and rough places of his
+ native tongue. Notwithstanding I take no small encouragement
+ from this, that whereas of those that have made to my knowledge
+ the bravest boasting and the loudest puffing (though of this I
+ am loth to speak, never having had a stomach for the work), the
+ writings often perish neglectfully and nothing said, some,
+ writing afar in quiet places removed from the busy rabblement
+ of towns, not seldom steer their course to fame and riches,
+ whereof, thanks be to Heaven, I never yet had covetousness,
+ deeming theirs the happier lot to whom a dry crust with haply a
+ slice of our good country cheese and a draught of the foaming
+ cider bring contentment. Each to his own fashion, say I, and
+ the fashion of the TIDDLERS hath always been in a manner plain
+ and unvarnished, like to the large oak press wherein mother
+ stores her Sunday gown and other woman's finery such as the
+ mind of man, being at best but a coarse week-day creature, hath
+ never fairly conceived. But lo! I am tarrying on my way, losing
+ myself in a maze of cheap fancies, while the reader perchance
+ yawns and stretches his limbs as though for bed. All I know is
+ paper and ink are cheaper than when I began to write.</p>
+
+ <h4>CHAPTER II.</h4>
+
+ <p>Now it fell on a Summer morning, I being then but newly come
+ home from the Farmers' College, in the ancient town of
+ Cambridge, that our whole household was gathered together in
+ our parlour. Mother sat by the head of the great table, ladling
+ out a savoury mess of porridge, not rashly, as the custom of
+ some is, but carefully, like a prudent housewife, guarding her
+ own. And by her side sat MOLLY and BETTY, her daughters, and
+ next to them the maids, and they that pertained to the work of
+ the house. First came old POLLY THISTLEDEW, gaunt of face, and
+ parched of skin, the wrinkles running athwart her face, and
+ over her hooked nose, like to the rivers drawn with much labour
+ of meandering pen in the schoolboys' maps, though for such my
+ marks were always low, I being better skilled in the giving of
+ raps with the closed fist than in the making of maps with inky
+ fingers&mdash;a bootless toil, as it always hath seemed to me.
+ Next to her sat SALLY, the little milkmaid, casting coy glances
+ at mother, who would have none of them, but with undue
+ sternness, as I thought then, and still think, tossed them back
+ to the shame-faced SALLY. Lower down sat JOHN TOOKER, "GIRT JAN
+ DOUBLEFACE" he was ever called, not without a sly hint of
+ increasing obesity, for JOHN, though a mighty man of thews and
+ sinews, was no small trencherman, and, as the phrase is, did
+ himself right royally whenever porridge was in question. All
+ these sat, peaceably swallowing, while I, at the table's foot,
+ faced mother, stirring my steaming bowl with my forefinger,
+ forgetting the heat thereof, but not daring to wince, lest
+ BETTY, whose tongue cut shrewdly when she had a mind, should
+ make sport of me.</p>
+
+ <h4>CHAPTER III.</h4>
+
+ <p>Although I had, for the most part, so very stout an appetite
+ that my bowl stood always first for the refilling, I had no
+ desire for my food that day, but idly sat and stirred, and the
+ burden of my thoughts wore deeply inward with the dwelling of
+ my mind on this view and on that of it. But, on a sudden, what
+ a turmoil, what a rising of maids, what a jumping on chairs,
+ what a drawing up of gowns, and what a scurrying! For, out of a
+ corner, comes the great brown rat, gliding sedately, and never
+ so much as asking by your leave or with your leave. Then
+ mother's old tom-cat, <i>Trouncer</i>, slowly rising, stretches
+ his limbs, and bares his claws, making ready for what is to
+ come, but not, me-thinks, with much alacrity for the conflict,
+ for rats have teeth, as <i>Trouncer</i> knows&mdash;ay, and can
+ use them to much purpose. Therefore <i>Trouncer</i>, making
+ belief to be brave, as is the custom both of cats and of others
+ that walk on two legs, and have thumbs to their fore-paws,
+ gathers himself to the spring, but springs not. Then comes GIRT
+ JAN's terrier, <i>Rouser</i>, at last&mdash;where hath the
+ terrier been tarrying? Terriers should not tarry&mdash;and,
+ with scant ceremony, leaps upon <i>Trouncer</i>. Cuff, cuff, go
+ the claws. <i>Trouncer</i> swears roundly. Nay,
+ <i>Trouncer</i>, 'tis a coward's part to fly beneath the chair.
+ To him, good <i>Rouser</i>, to him, my man. But <i>Rouser</i>
+ hath forgot the claw-bearer, though his bleeding nose for many
+ a day shall remember. <i>Rouser</i> hath the rat in view. Round
+ the parlour they go, helter-skelter, <i>Rouser</i> on the
+ tracks of the life-desiring rat, while the maids upon the
+ chairs show ankles, in proof of terror, until, lo! he hath him
+ pinned fast, never more to stir, or clean his whiskers in
+ rat-land.</p>
+
+ <p>And then all come down, and JAN boasts loudly how he all but
+ trod him flat, ay, and could have done so had rat not fled in
+ terror of his boot; and <i>Trouncer</i> returns, smugly
+ purring, and mother rates the blushing maids.</p>
+
+ <p>And I to the fields, having work to do, but liking not the
+ doing.</p>
+
+ <h4>CHAPTER IV.</h4>
+
+ <p>Now I with <i>Rouser</i> at my heels went manfully on my
+ way. Gaily I went over the parched brown wastes where lately
+ the flood had lain heavy upon the land, past the whispering
+ copses of fir and beech and oak that top the upland, through
+ the yellowing corn that stands waving golden promise in the
+ valley, till I came to where the land bends suddenly with a
+ sharp turn from the eastward whence a pearly brook, now swollen
+ to a roaring torrent, babbles bravely over the stones. Sudden I
+ stopped as though a palsy had gripped me, though of the
+ TIDDLERS, as is well known, none hath ever suffered of a palsy,
+ they being for the most part a lusty race, and apt for enduring
+ moisture both within and without. Never till my dying day shall
+ I forget the sight that met my eyes. For there seated upon a
+ tuffet, her beautiful blue eyes fixed in horror and despair,
+ her jug of curds and whey scarce tasted, was my MARIAN, while
+ beside her, lolling at ease with the slothful stretch of his
+ great limbs, and the flames as of Tophet in his fierce eyes sat
+ SPIDER, the great black-haired giant SPIDER that would make a
+ feast of her.</p>
+
+ <p>I know not how I ran, nor what mighty strength was in my
+ limbs, <span class="pagenum"><a name="page245"
+ id="page245"></a>[pg 245]</span> but in a moment I was with
+ them, and his hairy throat was in my clutch. Quickly he
+ turned upon me and fain had freed himself. Our breast-bones
+ cracked in the conflict, his arms wound round and round me,
+ and a hideous gleam of triumph was in his face. Thrice he
+ had me off my feet, but at the fourth close I swayed him to
+ the right, and then with one last heave I flung him on his
+ back, and had the end of it, leaving him dead and flattened
+ where he lay.</p>
+
+ <h4>CHAPTER V.</h4>
+
+ <p>Then gently I bore my MARIAN home, and mother greeted her
+ fondly, saying, "Miss MUFFET, I presume?" which pleased me,
+ thinking it only right that mother should use ceremony with my
+ love. But she, poor darling, lay quiet and pale, scarce knowing
+ her own happiness or the issue of the fight. For 'tis the way
+ of women ever to faint if the occasion serve and a man's arms
+ be there to prop them. And often in the warm summer-time, when
+ the little lads and lasses gather to the plucking of buttercups
+ and daisies, likening them gleefully to the gold and silver of
+ a rich man's coffers, my darling, now grown matronly, sitteth
+ on the tuffet in their midst, and telleth the tale of giant
+ SPIDER and his fate.&mdash;[THE END.]</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2>
+
+ <div class="figleft"
+ style="width:30%;">
+ <a href="images/245-1.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/245-1.png"
+ alt="The Baron de Book-Worms." /></a>
+ </div>
+
+ <p>One of our "Co."&mdash;and the Baron may observe that, when
+ "Co." is written it is not an abbreviation of "Coves"&mdash;has
+ been reading <i>Sir George</i> (BENTLEY), a Novel, which Mrs.
+ HENNIKER has the courage to put forth in one volume. At the
+ outset, the writing is a little slipshod. Mrs. HENNIKER has,
+ moreover, a wild passion for the conjunction. When she can't
+ summon another "which," she sticks in a "that." On one page
+ appears the following startling announcement&mdash;"The March
+ winds this year were unusually biting, and her nervous guardian
+ would therefore [why therefore?] never allow her to walk out
+ without a respirator, till they blew no longer from the East."
+ We assume that, as soon as respirators blew from the West, this
+ injunction would be withdrawn. But, as Mrs. HENNIKER, gets
+ forward in her story, the style improves, "which's" disappear
+ as they did in <i>Macbeth's</i> time, and the tale is told in
+ simple strenuous language. <i>Uncle George</i> is a character
+ finely conceived, and admirably drawn.</p>
+
+ <p>The Baron returns thanks to the publisher, W. HEINEMANN, for
+ sending a volume of DE QUINCEY's <i>Posthumorous Works</i>. A
+ small dose of them, taken occasionally the last thing at night,
+ may be confidently recommended to admirers of <i>The Opium
+ Eater</i>, and will probably be found of considerable value to
+ some who hitherto may have been the victims of <i>insomnia</i>.
+ Highly recommended by the Faculty.</p>
+
+ <p class="author">(<i>Signed.</i>) BARON DE BOOK-WORMS &amp;
+ Co.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>EVENINGS FROM HOME.</h2>
+
+ <p>At the Court Theatre, <i>Le Feu Toupinel</i>, adapted for
+ the English stage as <i>The Late Lamented</i>, is decidedly
+ funny, that is, if you can once get over the idea that all its
+ humour depends upon the immoral vagaries of an elderly
+ scoundrel, an habitual criminal, who has departed this life in
+ the odour of respectability, without his immoralities ever
+ having been discovered. Had he been found out during his
+ lifetime, he would have been tried for bigamy, convicted, and
+ punished accordingly. This piece has been adapted from the
+ French for the English stage; but, query, is it adapted to an
+ English audience? That's the point. The run must decide. If the
+ best possible acting can carry it along, then that it has got;
+ for, though Mrs. JOHN WOOD has frequently had better chances,
+ yet she has never worked harder, and never has she more
+ deserved the laughter she excites. The same may be said of Mr.
+ STANDING and Miss FILLIPPI, and also of Mr. ARTHUR CECIL, whose
+ make-up is perfect, especially the dressing and colouring of
+ his hair, which is an artistic triumph. Mr. GILBERT FARQUHAR's
+ <i>Mr. Fawcett</i>, the Solicitor, contributes much to the fun
+ of the scenes in which he appears with Mrs. JOHN WOOD; and Mr.
+ CAPE, as <i>Parker</i>, the Confidential Servant, is excellent.
+ There's plenty of "go" in it, but will it "stay"?</p>
+
+ <p>Great attraction at the Lyceum! <i>The Corsican Brothers</i>
+ and <i>Nance Oldfield</i>! ELLEN TERRY as <i>Nance</i> is
+ delightful. Chorus, Gentlemen, if you please,
+ "<i>For</i>&mdash;all our fancy, Dwells upon Nancy!" Our ELLEN
+ is charming in this, so natural and so theatrical: herself as
+ <i>Nance</i>, and then as <i>Mrs. Oldfield</i>, the actress, in
+ the characters that <i>Nance</i> assumes. For 'tis ELLEN
+ playing <i>Nancy</i>, and <i>Nancy</i> again playing Tragedy
+ and Comedy. It is an old piece revived: there never was so old
+ a piece, for there are only four characters in it, and they're
+ all Old. There are two <i>Oldfields</i> and two
+ <i>Oldworthys</i>. Mr. WENMAN as <i>Oldfield Senior</i>, or the
+ Old Obadiah, is a trifle too blusterous, but on the other hand,
+ I am not prepared to say that a country attorney of that period
+ wouldn't be uncouth and blusterous. His son <i>Alexander</i>,
+ the Young Obadiah, is prettily played by Mr. GORDON CRAIG, who
+ is a trifle too windmilly with his hands and arms; but in the
+ whole play nothing becomes him so well as the pathos of his
+ broken-hearted exit. He was touching and going. Henceforth,
+ this young actor may justly describe himself as of the
+ "Touch-and-go" school, and be, like "the livin' skeleton"
+ mentioned by <i>Sam Weller</i>, "proud o' the title." Miss KATE
+ PHILLIPS as <i>Anne's</i> sister&mdash;though, as Mr. J.L. T-LE
+ observed, as she is younger than <i>Anne</i>, she cannot well
+ be her Anne-sister&mdash;is as bright and lively as need be,
+ considering her menial position, which is rather odd in her
+ sister's house. Visit Mistress NANCE TERRY; you'll find her
+ very much "at home" in the part. After which <i>The Corsican
+ Brothers</i> revived, Ghost and all.</p>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:50%;">
+ <a href="images/245-2.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/245-2.png"
+ alt="The Corsican Brothers and Nance Oldfield at the Lyceum." />
+ </a>The Corsican Brothers and Nance Oldfield at the Lyceum.
+ </div>
+
+ <p>When some years ago the Irvingesque version of it was
+ produced, the twin who lived in Corsica, Brother <i>Fabien</i>,
+ used to behave in the wildest Corsican way. Who that saw it
+ some years ago does not remember how he used to chuck his gun
+ up in the air, when it caught on to a hook in the wall! with
+ what gusto he used to light a tiny cigarette from an enormous
+ flaming brand snatched from the burning wood fire on the
+ hearth! and how badly the starving guest from Paris fared in
+ the Corsican household where he hadn't a chance against the
+ appetite of Master <i>Fabien</i>, who, after a hard day's
+ sport, came in ready for anything, and ate everything! It was
+ the only occasion when this fearless son of destiny ever
+ "bolted." But, my! how the food used to disappear! what a short
+ time the supper occupied, and how very much third best the poor
+ stranger came off under the hospitable roof of the <i>Dei
+ Franchis</i>. Even now the supper is a brief one, but justice
+ is done to it, <i>and</i> to the weary traveller. Never was
+ such an unhappy tourist! He comes to a house in the wilds of
+ Corsica; he is choke-full of Parisian gossip, he has a lot to
+ say of course, but he never gets a chance, as <i>Fabien</i>
+ tells him family stories one after the other, as if he hadn't
+ had such an opportunity or so good a listener for ever so long.
+ Then, when on the entrance of his mother <i>Fabien</i> breaks
+ off in the middle of one of his many anecdotes, which evidently
+ can't be told before ladies, the Parisian gent, who now sees
+ something like an opening for some light Boulevardian
+ chit-chat, is presented with a flat candlestick and bowed off
+ to bed, without being allowed a word to say for himself. All
+ this is just the same as ever; there have been no alterations
+ nor repairs; the piece is as curiously old-fashioned as are the
+ exquisitely correct costumes; while the Masked Ball at the
+ Opera and the Duel in the snow are as effective as ever, and
+ the latter, if anything, more so. They make a first-rate fight
+ of it, do Messrs. <i>Irving dei Franchi</i> and <i>M. Terriss
+ de Château Renaud</i>, until the latter collapses, and
+ "subsequent proceedings interested him no more." As long as the
+ strong right arm of the Corsican Brother can draw a good and
+ shining rapier, he will draw as good and brilliant a house as
+ he did on the first night of this revival. Why ought this piece
+ to go well in the first theatre in Ireland? Why? because it's a
+ great play for Doublin'. <i>Exeunt omnes.</i></p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>THE EPIDEMIC.&mdash;Up to now Members of Parliament have
+ been generally considered as "influential personages." This
+ year many M.P.'s will be remembered as "very influenzial
+ personages."</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page246"
+ id="page246"></a>[pg 246]</span>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:100%;">
+ <a href="images/246.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/246.png"
+ alt="THE MOST IRRESISTIBLE SIRENS ARE NOT THOSE WHO SING, BUT THOSE WHO LISTEN (OR PRETEND TO)!" />
+ </a>
+
+ <h3>THE MOST IRRESISTIBLE SIRENS ARE NOT THOSE WHO SING,
+ BUT THOSE WHO LISTEN (OR PRETEND TO)!</h3>
+
+ <p><i>Daughter of the House</i>. "TELL ME, PROFESSOR BORAX,
+ HOW DID YOU LIKE THE LADY MAMMA GAVE YOU TO TAKE IN TO
+ DINNER?"</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Professor</i> (<i>innocently</i>). "MY DEAR GIRL,
+ SHE'S SIMPLY THE MOST CHARMING WOMAN I EVER MET! <i>I NEVER
+ TALKED SO MUCH IN MY LIFE!</i>"</p>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>IN A MAZE.</h2>
+
+ <blockquote class="note">
+ <p>"Mr. BALFOUR brought up a new sub-section, which he
+ admitted was so obscure that he only 'more or less'
+ understood it himself, and which, indeed, is of
+ '<i>plusquam</i>-Thucydidean' dimness and involution....
+ There is no excuse, we must say, for the muddle into which
+ the Government has got over the Bill.... The House of
+ Commons has adjourned for a short holiday, but the Irish
+ Land Purchase Bill is not yet through Committee.... There
+ still remained all the new clauses, for which no time had
+ been found."&mdash;<i>Times</i>.</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <p><i>Little Bill loquitur</i>:&mdash;</p>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Oh do, if you please, Mr. BALFOUR, Sir, if you
+ <i>can</i>,&mdash;and who can if you can't,
+ Sir?&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>Get me out of this Maze, where for days and days I
+ have strayed till I'm all of a pant, Sir.</p>
+
+ <p>Twelve months ago we started, you know, and I've
+ been on my feet ever since, Sir.</p>
+
+ <p>And oh, if you please, I feel weak at the knees, and
+ the pains in my back make me wince, Sir.</p>
+
+ <p>Mister HOOD's "Lost Child" wasn't half as had, for
+ he only strayed in the gutter,</p>
+
+ <p>While this dreadful Maze is enough to craze; and
+ <i>my</i> feeling of lostness is utter.</p>
+
+ <p>Oh, my poor feet! This is worse than Crete, and old
+ Hampton Court isn't in it.</p>
+
+ <p>Oh stop, <i>do</i> stop! for I feel I shall drop if
+ I don't sit down half a minute.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>I really thought you knew the way out&mdash;which I
+ own <i>I</i>'m unable to guess, Sir&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>And now 'twould appear you are far from clear, and
+ are puzzled "more or less," Sir.</p>
+
+ <p>The paths are really so twirly-whirly, the hedges so
+ jimble-jumbled;</p>
+
+ <p>It must be hundreds and hundreds of miles along
+ which we have staggered and stumbled.</p>
+
+ <p>I thought you <i>were</i> a cool card. Mister
+ BALFOUR, and did know your way about. Sir,</p>
+
+ <p>But what I should like to know at present is, when
+ we are like to get out, Sir.</p>
+
+ <p>How LABBY will laugh at the Labyrinth-maker, who
+ gets lost in his own Great Maze, Sir!</p>
+
+ <p>Don't say, Sir, pray, that you've lost <i>your</i>
+ way,&mdash;you, whom people so cosset and praise
+ Sir.</p>
+
+ <p>You won't be hurried, and you can't be flurried, and
+ you're always as cool as a cucumber.</p>
+
+ <p>Can a little 'un like me, your own child, don't you
+ see, such a smart pioneer as are <i>you</i> cumber?</p>
+
+ <p>You, the modern Theseus? Where's your Ariadne? Oh, I
+ know you are cool, and clever.</p>
+
+ <p>Yet I feel a doubt. When <i>shall</i> we get
+ out?&mdash;which I <i>can't</i> go on wandering for
+ ever!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <p><i>Mazemaster loquitur</i>:&mdash;</p>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Poor little man! Yes, I <i>had</i> a plan, and a
+ perfectly plain one, too, boy;</p>
+
+ <p>But&mdash;I fear&mdash;for a
+ moment&mdash;I've&mdash;lost the clue! Ah! I'm awfully
+ sorry for <i>you</i> boy!</p>
+
+ <p>You have been on your feet for a precious long time,
+ and all this roundaboutation,</p>
+
+ <p><i>Is</i> "<i>plusquam</i>-Thucydidean," perhaps,
+ and at any rate mean aggravation.</p>
+
+ <p>But you'll please understand I'm a very "cool hand;"
+ there's abundance of "humour" about me,</p>
+
+ <p>And though for a jiffy I <i>seem</i> at a loss,
+ don't you come for to go for to doubt me.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>'Tis most complicated, this Miz-Maze! I've stated
+ the clue I've let slip for a moment,</p>
+
+ <p>And LABBY, no doubt, and his henchmen, will shout
+ and indulge in invidious comment:</p>
+
+ <p>The <i>Times</i>, too, may gird, and declare 'tis
+ absurd not to know <i>one's own Labyrinth</i>
+ better.</p>
+
+ <p>The <i>Times</i> is my friend, but a trifle too fond
+ of the goad and the scourge and the fetter;</p>
+
+ <p>You really can't rule the whole civilised world with
+ the aid of the whip and the closure;</p>
+
+ <p>Though I <i>should</i> enjoy&mdash;but no matter, my
+ boy, let us try to maintain our composure!</p>
+
+ <p><i>When shall we get out?</i> That's a matter of
+ doubt, cross-hedges my pathway still chequer,</p>
+
+ <p>The clue I've let slip, but you just take my tip;
+ we'll get clear&mdash;if you keep up your pecker!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h3>Change for Thirty-Five Shillings.</h3>
+
+ <p>There is a singular directness of purpose in the following
+ advertisement which appears in the <i>Daily
+ News</i>:&mdash;</p>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>REPORTER (27), now on Weekly, WANTS CHANGE.
+ 35<i>s.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <p>The advertiser not only wants change, but he mentions the
+ exact sum. It seems odd. One often wants change for a
+ sovereign, and even oftener wants the sovereign itself. But
+ what precise coin a man hands you when he wants thirty-five
+ shillings change is not quite clear.</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page247"
+ id="page247"></a>[pg 247]</span>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:100%;">
+ <a href="images/247.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/247.png"
+ alt="IN A MAZE." /></a>
+
+ <h3>IN A MAZE.</h3>
+
+ <p>MASTER LAND BILL. "OH, MR. BALFOUR, I'M <i>SO</i>
+ TIRED!"</p>
+
+ <p>MR. B. "CHEER UP, LITTLE MAN! NEXT TURN TO THE
+ RIGHT,&mdash;AND I HOPE WE SHALL BE OUT OF IT!!"</p>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page249"
+ id="page249"></a>[pg 249]</span>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:100%;">
+ <a href="images/249.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/249.png"
+ alt="At the Horse Dealer's." /></a> <i>Dealer's
+ Man</i> (<i>confidentially</i>). "NICE 'OSS, SIR. JUST
+ SUIT <i>YOU</i>, SIR. NICE PERMISCUOUS 'OSS,
+ SIR!&mdash;<i>YOU CAN SIT ON HIM A'MOST ANYWHERE!</i>"
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>LEAVES FROM A CANDIDATE'S DIARY.</h2>
+
+ <p><i>Billsbury, May 5</i>.&mdash;Received the following letter
+ from TOLLAND yesterday:&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p class="author">45, <i>Main Street, Billsbury, May 3.</i></p>
+
+ <p>DEAR MR. PATTLE,</p>
+
+ <p>A committee Meeting of our Council has been summoned for the
+ day after to-morrow (May 5) at eight o'clock P.M., at the
+ Beaconsfield Club, to consider some important questions
+ affecting your Candidature and the plan of campaign to be
+ adopted in prosecuting it. I trust that you may be able to make
+ it convenient to attend, and shall be glad to receive a wire
+ from you to this effect. I may mention to you that I have
+ lately heard, in confidence, that Sir THOMAS CHUBSON's health
+ is causing considerable anxiety to the Radical leaders here. He
+ has attended very few divisions lately, and has offended many
+ of the advanced section by his conduct over the Strike
+ Subvention Bill, which was backed by the Labour Members. Sir
+ THOMAS, however, abstained from the division on the Second
+ Reading. It is just possible that, under the circumstances, he
+ may decide to apply for the Chiltern Hundreds very shortly, and
+ we must be prepared for every emergency.</p>
+
+ <p class="author">Yours faithfully, JAMES TOLLAND.</p>
+
+ <p>It was a confounded nuisance. I had arranged to take the
+ BELLAMYS to the Scandinavian Exhibition this afternoon, and to
+ dine and go to the theatre with the JACKSONS. Had to put off
+ everything. MARY BELLAMY will be dreadfully annoyed. Wrote
+ specially to her to apologise and explain. They're sure to get
+ that beast POMFRET to take them instead. He's always hanging
+ round. Last week he wrote a lot of verse in MARY's Confession
+ Album, in this style (I copied some of it out, in order to show
+ it to VULLIAMY, who hates him):&mdash;</p>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Though, when he's asked his favourite name, a man is
+ apt to stare, he</p>
+
+ <p><i>Must</i> answer, if he knows what's what, "My
+ favourite name is MARY."</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <p>And this:&mdash;</p>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>The vice I detest and abhor above all</p>
+
+ <p>Is not dancing four <i>times</i> with <i>you</i> at
+ a ball.</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <p>And this, in answer to the question, "What or who would you
+ rather be, if you were not yourself?"&mdash;</p>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>I'd rather be the rosebud that nestles in your
+ hair,</p>
+
+ <p>Or the aunt whose hand you took in yours and pressed
+ upon the stair.</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <p>They all admired this slip-slop immensely, and MARY asked
+ me, when I called the other day, if I didn't think it
+ wonderfully clever. I know, when I wrote my answers in her
+ album, it took me days of thought to get them done in prose,
+ and even then they turned out the most ordinary, commonplace
+ things. However I thought they pleased MARY, and now POMFRET
+ steps in with his confounded rhymes. Mrs. BELLAMY's father once
+ published a volume of verse, and is still talked of in the
+ household as "your grandfather the poet." She told me that she
+ thought "a faculty for versification was the mark of a truly
+ refined and delicate mind." Bah! POMFRET's one of the most
+ selfish and calculating ruffians outside a convict prison, and
+ always haggles over his luncheon bills at the Club, till the
+ head-waiter and all the rest nearly go off their heads.</p>
+
+ <p>However, I had to come to Billsbury, nilly-willy. Met the
+ Committee after dinner. They were anxious that I should do some
+ canvassing soon, and wanted me, when next I spoke, to explain
+ myself more fully (1) on the Temperance Question and the
+ question of Compensation to Publicans; (2) on the Women's
+ Suffrage Question; (3) on the Labour Question; (4) on Foreign
+ Policy; and (5) with reference to the Billsbury Main Drainage
+ Scheme. I said I would, but I should probably require more than
+ one speech to do it in. Afterwards a very solemn member of the
+ Committee, whose name I forget, got up and made a long speech,
+ in which he observed that my habit of appearing in dress
+ clothes at the meetings had annoyed a good many of my
+ supporters, and that he ventured to suggest to me, for my own
+ good, that I should wear ordinary dress. It seems a good many
+ of the lower lot thought it looked uppish. I'm glad enough not
+ to have to do it any more. There were other points, but I'm too
+ tired to remember them. By the way, I have subscribed to about
+ a dozen more Clubs and Institutions, and have promised to get
+ Mother to open a bazaar here at the end of the month. Back to
+ London to-morrow. What a life!</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h3>The Latest "Labor Program."</h3>
+
+ <h4>(<i>By a New-Unionist.</i>)</h4>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>I am all for myself, and 'tis perfectly true</p>
+
+ <p>That the "labor" I love is regardless of "u."</p>
+
+ <p>But, <i>per contra</i>, informing my "program" you
+ see</p>
+
+ <p>Though I wink (with two I's), I eliminate "me."</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page250"
+ id="page250"></a>[pg 250]</span>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:100%;">
+ <a href="images/250.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/250.png"
+ alt="POLITICAL BOATING-PARTY DURING THE RECESS." />
+ </a>
+
+ <h3>POLITICAL BOATING-PARTY DURING THE RECESS.</h3>(<i>By
+ Our Own Instantaneous Photographer</i>.)
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page251"
+ id="page251"></a>[pg 251]</span>
+
+ <h2>IN A LOCK.&mdash;A WHITSUNTIDE WARBLE.</h2>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>"<i>Lock! Lock!</i>"&mdash;Shock! Rock! That's a
+ pretty frock bulging over the gunwale!</p>
+
+ <p>She looks like to choke with that horrible smoke,
+ which is fuming out of the Steam-Launch funnel.</p>
+
+ <p>Pleasant old cry! All in, and dry. though we're
+ awfully crowded this first Spring holiday,</p>
+
+ <p>Better this than St. Stephen's dead-lock! Our
+ serious Senators out for a jolly day</p>
+
+ <p>Might do worse. Who carries the purse? That ten-foot
+ rod with the toll-net ending it</p>
+
+ <p>Means a hint. They must make "a mint"; and, by Jove,
+ there are many worse ways of spending it,&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>Money, I mean. Now were G-SCH-N seen collecting cash
+ for his dry Exchequer</p>
+
+ <p>With pole and net, it were nicer, you bet, than
+ keeping up his financial pecker</p>
+
+ <p>With Spirit Duties! Those two blonde beauties in
+ Cambridge blue are exceeding bonny;</p>
+
+ <p>B-LF-R now at that same boat's bow would be quite in
+ his element&mdash;eh, my sonny?</p>
+
+ <p>And OLD MORALITY cooling his legs in the
+ stern-sheets yonder would find the steering</p>
+
+ <p>Easier far than amidst the jar of St. Stephen's, hot
+ with T-M H-LY jeering.</p>
+
+ <p>S-L-SB-RY, too, with a well-trained crew, would put
+ his back&mdash;that broad back of his!&mdash;in it.</p>
+
+ <p>Don't be in a hurry, my nautical friend! we shall
+ all get out in another minute.</p>
+
+ <p>Just like life! Such fidgety strife to be first to
+ the front when the lock-gates sever.</p>
+
+ <p>What does it matter, friends, after all? The slow,
+ the skilful, the dull, the clever,</p>
+
+ <p>The snake-swift "swell" and the splashing 'ARRY, the
+ puffing launch, and the trim outrigger,</p>
+
+ <p>The calm canoest who hugs the timbers, the fussy
+ punter who toils like a nigger,</p>
+
+ <p>All will anon be well out in the cutting, the old
+ gates shutting slowly behind them,</p>
+
+ <p>And where are those who so shoved to the front? At
+ the tail of the race you may presently find them.</p>
+
+ <p>The G.O.M. (with his collars for sails), that jaunty
+ skiff might be handling. Bless us!</p>
+
+ <p>Can he take holiday, he whom toil seems to encoil
+ like a shirt of Nessus?</p>
+
+ <p>Well, Union<i>ist</i> or Separat<i>ist</i>, or chap
+ with a twist like C-NN-NGH-M GR-H-M,</p>
+
+ <p>Or howling PAT, or Aristo<i>crat</i> with manners
+ like BRUMMEL and voice like BRAHAM,</p>
+
+ <p>Peppery G-SCH-N, or pompous H-RC-RT, or genial
+ SM-TH, the new-made Warden,</p>
+
+ <p>All, all, to-day, when the world is gay, the stream
+ like silver, the banks a garden,</p>
+
+ <p><i>Much</i> worse might do than tog up in blue and
+ join a crew on the rolling river,</p>
+
+ <p>"Beyond the tide," dropping all their "side," party
+ or personal, leaving "liver,"</p>
+
+ <p>And Influenza, and other "Obstructions," all
+ party-jobbers, all jibbers and jolters,</p>
+
+ <p>In sunny weather to crowd together in Moulsey Lock,
+ or it might be BOULTER's!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:60%;">
+ <a href="images/251.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/251.png"
+ alt="ELEMENTARY INSTRUCTION IN COOKERY." /></a>
+
+ <h3>ELEMENTARY INSTRUCTION IN COOKERY.</h3>
+
+ <p><i>Young Lady</i>. "AND NOW, JANE, WHAT'S THE
+ <i>NEXT</i> THING TO DO, AFTER PUTTING THE MEAT AND
+ POTATOES IN THE STEWPAN?"</p>
+
+ <p><i>Village Girl</i>. "PLEASE, MISS, WASH THE BABY!"</p>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2>
+
+ <h4>EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</h4>
+
+ <p><i>The Kennel, Barks, Friday, May 15</i>.&mdash;This entry
+ in Diary is dated from my ancestral home, pleasantly situated
+ in the County I have the honour to represent. Haven't been to
+ Westminster this week. Hear, through usual channels of
+ information, that House adjourns to-day for Whitsun Recess.
+ When I say House, I mean fragment that remains; a few doors and
+ chimneys, with here and there a ruined wing. Fact is, majority
+ absent with influenza. Some seventy or eighty of us have formed
+ House of our own; meet regularly at usual hour; get through
+ business in a way that would astonish the residuum left at
+ Westminster; and jog off comfortably for dinner. All Parties
+ and all sections of Party represented. SPEAKER and Chairman of
+ Committees still stick to Westminster. But we have GORST, one
+ of the Deputy-Speakers, who presides with dignity and despatch.
+ JACKSON looks after arrangement of business. AKERS-DOUGLAS
+ whips up the Conservatives, assisted by SYDNEY HERBERT and
+ ARTHUR HILL. THOMAS ESMONDE brings up to the scratch TANNER,
+ SWIFT MACNEILL, and PIERCE MAHONY. On Treasury Bench MICHAEL
+ BEACH sits in place of OLD MORALITY, being supported by GEORGIE
+ HAMILTON, STUART WORTLEY, and JAMES FERGUSSON, whilst KNUTSFORD
+ and DERBY look down from Peers' Gallery. On Front Opposition
+ Bench Mr. G., just arrived; finds JOHN MORLEY, OSBORNE AP
+ MORGAN, KAY-SHUTTLEWORTH, and MUNDELLA. WOLMER not yet arrived,
+ but daily expected. Meanwhile JOHN LUBBOCK, MUNTZ, T.W.
+ RUSSELL, and the Wiwacious WIGGIN here, ready to obey the Whip,
+ when issued.</p>
+
+ <p>CHARLES FORSTER, looks after petitions for us; FRANK
+ LOCKWOOD draws us out (or in, as the case may be); ALGERNON
+ BORTHWICK throws an air of fashionable society around us; the
+ Reverberating COLOMB lifts his tall head in our midst; ISAAC
+ HOLDEN never tires of telling the fascinating story of how he
+ discovered the lucifer-match; HENNIKER HEATON passes the time
+ writing letters to RAIKES, and complains that the
+ Postmaster-General has his communications ostentatiously
+ fumigated before opening them; SEYMOUR KEAY says he must get
+ back to Westminster (nobody says him nay), or Land Bill would
+ be getting passed through Committee; and here is the Grand
+ Young GARDNER <i>and</i> his wife&mdash;Lady WINIFRED, of
+ course, looking down on us from Ladies' Gallery.</p>
+
+ <p>Have on the whole a very good time. Looked after by RUSTEM
+ ROOSE, whose cure is as alluring as it is infallible. "Eat,
+ drink and sleep," he says. "Lie on your back and sedulously do
+ nothing." So whilst they storm and fret at Westminster, here,
+ in hollow Lotos Land we live and lie reclining. Pleasant to
+ hear RUSTEM ROOSE's voice as he goes his morning rounds,
+ stethoscope in hand. "A long breath, dear friend: say '74;
+ Pommery, certainly if you like; a pint at luncheon and a roast
+ chicken. Turn over, dear friend; another long breath; say '80;
+ de Lanson, of course, if you prefer it; a pint at dinner with a
+ fried sole and a porterhouse steak; or, if you are tired of
+ champagne, take a pint of claret with a glass or two of port. A
+ long breath, dear friend; say '50; three glasses if '50 port
+ won't do you any harm."</p>
+
+ <p>Worst of it is we're all getting better, and shall be back
+ to the grind at Westminster after Whitsuntide. <i>Business
+ done</i>.&mdash;All taking long breaths.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>THE DIS-ORDER OF THE DAY.&mdash;In the House of Commons on
+ the Motion of the First Lord of the Treasury, it was resolved
+ that Influenza, M.P., be expelled. Mr. CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN,
+ Leader of the Opposition, <i>pro tem.</i>, moved to amend the
+ Resolution by adding "at once." This was agreed to <i>nem.
+ con.</i> The Serjeant-at-Arms was thereupon ordered to remove
+ Influenza. He declined on the ground that if he did he might
+ catch it. After some conversation the debate was adjourned.
+ Influenza left sitting on Members generally.&mdash;<i>Extract
+ from the Fifteenth of May's Parliamentary Report</i>.</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page252"
+ id="page252"></a>[pg 252]</span>
+
+ <h2>A PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS!</h2>
+
+ <h4>(<i>By a Perplexed Reader of the Penny Papers.</i>)</h4>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:22%;">
+ <a href="images/252-1.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/252-1.png"
+ alt="" /></a>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>When you're lying awake, with a horrid headache (to
+ adopt a suggestion of GILBERT's),</p>
+
+ <p>When too freely you've dined, or too heavily wined,
+ or munched too many walnuts or filberts;</p>
+
+ <p>When your brain is a maze, and creation a haze, then
+ each queer social craze&mdash;there are
+ many!&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>Gets your wits in a spool, and there isn't a fool
+ for your thoughts would advance you a penny.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>You can't sleep a wink, so the question of Drink,
+ though you timidly shrink from it, harries you.</p>
+
+ <p>Your wit's in a whirl, as you think, if some girl
+ with a <i>penchant</i> for you, ups and marries
+ you.</p>
+
+ <p>And ties you for life to the thing called a
+ Wife,&mdash;that figment, that fraud, that
+ illusion,</p>
+
+ <p>Where, <i>what</i> will you be? And you can't find a
+ key to the epoch's chaotic confusion.</p>
+
+ <p>It seems Local Option is sure of adoption, and what
+ a tyrannic majority</p>
+
+ <p>May "opt" for one day, you're unable to say, and in
+ vain you appeal to Authority.</p>
+
+ <p>The Law of the Land is a labyrinth grand, which you
+ can't understand, nor can anyone,</p>
+
+ <p>And <i>that</i> is a thought, with delirium fraught,
+ an appalling, if 'tis not a penny one.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Now Law, the Old Antic, seems utterly frantic,
+ absurdly romantic and maundering;</p>
+
+ <p>And Cool Common Sense has gone dotty and dense, in
+ dim deserts of Sentiment wandering.</p>
+
+ <p>Now Reason and Right, hydrocephalous quite, are both
+ Della-Cruscan and drivelling,</p>
+
+ <p>Life (barring the fun) like "The Mulberry One,"
+ seems a mixture of diddling and snivelling.</p>
+
+ <p>There's LAWSON who jaws on the Abstinence Cause on,
+ and would lay his claws on the Nation,</p>
+
+ <p>And put sudden stopper on all that's improper (as
+ <i>he</i> thinks) without compensation;</p>
+
+ <p>And then there's Sir EDWARD, who, when he goes
+ bedward, must have <i>his</i> reflections
+ nightmarish!</p>
+
+ <p>It seems, from such rigs, that our biggest Big Wigs
+ are scarcest to govern a parish.</p>
+
+ <p>MCDOUGALL again, is agog to restrain all that gives
+ <i>his</i> soul pain&mdash;it's a squeamish
+ one!&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>He thinks he's a stayer as Jabberwock-slayer, mere
+ Angry Boy he, <i>not</i> a Beamish One!</p>
+
+ <p>These Oracles windy do raise such a shindy, and kick
+ such a doose of a dust up,</p>
+
+ <p>One would think without <i>them</i> we were wrong
+ stern and stem, and the whole of creation would bust
+ up.</p>
+
+ <p>But verily why men should <i>new</i> worship
+ Hymen,&mdash;who, just as unshackled as
+ Cupid,&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>(See decision <i>Re</i> JACKSON), take burdens their
+ backs on, I can<i>not</i> conceive. It seems stupid</p>
+
+ <p>Beyond all expression to have a "possession" whose
+ "ownness" there's desperate doubt of,</p>
+
+ <p>And which (if she's <i>nous</i>) you can't keep
+ <i>in</i> your house, nor yet (if she's "savvy") keep
+ <i>out</i> of!</p>
+
+ <p>What <i>is</i> "Hymen's halter"? I fidget and
+ falter! The Beaks seem to palter and fumble.</p>
+
+ <p>In such a strange fashion, I fly in a passion, and
+ vow that the world is a jumble.</p>
+
+ <p>Law seems a wigged noodle, as tame as a poodle, the
+ whole darned caboodle (as 'ARRY sees)</p>
+
+ <p>Is ructions and "rot," and our "rulers" a lot of
+ confounded old foodles and Pharisees!</p>
+
+ <p>Yes, that's what <i>I</i> think about Marriage and
+ Drink&mdash;if you may call it thought, which with
+ frenzy is fraught, and gives me a "head" like bad
+ whiskey; whose dread is on me day and night, makes me
+ wake in a fright, from visions most solemn of column on
+ column of such "printed matter" and paragraph chatter,
+ as makes me feel flatter than cold eggless batter upon
+ a lead platter&mdash;as mad as a hatter, and who will
+ relieve me? Can anyone?</p>
+
+ <p>I tell you it's dreadful to face a whole bedful of
+ spectres and spooks (born of papers and books) with,
+ most horrible looks, limbs contorted in crooks, and
+ bat-wings with big hooks, which haunt all the nooks of
+ tester and curtain, and which, I am certain, will drive
+ me insane if <i>some</i> one can't explain where the
+ mischief we are, 'midst the jumble and jar of factions
+ and fads, of crotchets and cads, of Tolstois and
+ Jeunes, and Ibsens (whose lunes are more lunatic
+ still). Oh, I'd learn with a will from any or aught,
+ who could bring me, fresh caught, with lucidity fraught
+ (what so long I have sought) a Clear Comforting
+ Thought&mdash;though a Penny One!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2><i>IN RE</i> THE INFLUENZA.</h2>
+
+ <h4>(<i>An Autobiographical Note on the appearance of the
+ Epidemic in the Law Courts.</i>)</h4>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:23%;">
+ <a href="images/252-2.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/252-2.png"
+ alt="Catching." /></a>Catching.
+ </div>
+
+ <p>Owing to recent sentimental legislation, many members of the
+ learned profession, to which I have the honour to belong, have
+ found their practice becoming (to quote the poet) "small by
+ degrees and beautifully less." Times were when I could scarcely
+ pass a week in term time without appearing in Court holding a
+ consent brief, or armed with authority to move (unopposed) for
+ the appointment of a receiver. But that was long ago&mdash;a
+ deep contrast with to-day&mdash;when my admirable and excellent
+ Clerk PORTINGTON, finds an hour a day ample, almost too ample,
+ time for posting up to date my Fee Book. However, occasionally
+ a gleam of the old sunshine illumines, so to speak, the
+ chambers I occupy, and such a gleam was my retention for the
+ Defence in the cause of <i>Quicksilver</i> v. <i>Nore</i>. It
+ was a Patent Case, and one of the deepest possible interest. It
+ is my good fortune to know the Defendant, personally, and it
+ was through his kind offices that the instructions to appear
+ for him were left at my chambers. My friend and client (who is
+ unjustly said to be eccentric in his habits) has recently
+ patented and produced a most important invention, which greatly
+ facilitates the retention of dinner-napkins, after those
+ useful, nay, necessary articles have been used for the purpose
+ for which they are manufactured. Like all really valuable
+ inventions, the patent is simplicity itself, the napkin-ring
+ consisting of the section of the thicker end of an elephant's
+ tusk cut to an appropriate size and hollowed out. It is
+ necessary to fold the dinner-napkin in such a fashion that,
+ when inserted through the ring, its shape is retained by the
+ adherent properties inseparable from the ivory. The patent can
+ also be produced in other materials, such as gold, silver and
+ jewels for the wealthy, and in bone, tin and even glass for
+ purchasers of smaller means. I must say that when the ring was
+ shown to me I was greatly struck with the cleverness and
+ simplicity of the idea, and could not understand how Mr.
+ QUICKSILVER could have allowed himself to be so badly advised
+ as to bring an action for infringement, merely on the strength
+ of <i>his</i> patent being also a dinner-napkin-holder with the
+ ring element so far introduced that it consisted of a circle
+ closed and opened by a hinge. However, it was no part of my
+ duty to advise the other side, so I set to work to get up my
+ case (as I invariably do) <i>con amore</i>. I hunted up all the
+ causes in the Digest, that seemed to be on all-fours with the
+ matter in dispute, and spent days in the Public Library of the
+ Patent Office searching for patents having to do with
+ table-napkins. As the specifications were not consecutively
+ published, I had to wade through a large number of these
+ interesting documents that treated of other subjects. For
+ instance, the first specification I would take out of the box
+ in which it was kept, would perhaps have to do with
+ house-raising without disturbance to the foundations, the
+ second would prove to be an article half umbrella, half
+ revolver, while in the third I would perhaps find an extremely
+ quaint notion for a portable pocket corkscrew. I myself picked
+ up many ideas for future use, and hope some day, if I do
+ nothing else, at least to perfect a clever little contrivance
+ of my own for arousing the inmates of a house invaded by
+ burglars by casement concussions. I propose calling this
+ valuable little instrument (which is founded to some extent on
+ the simple construction by which the figures in a child's box
+ of wooden soldiers are enabled to advance and retire in a
+ scissors-like fashion), when produced, the Policeman's Upper
+ Floor Window Tapper.</p>
+
+ <p>The day for the hearing at length arrived, and, armed with a
+ mass of carefully selected information, I was in my seat ready
+ to defend the originality of the Nore Napkin Ring, so to speak,
+ to the death. In my notes before me I had the skeleton of a
+ really fine oration, which I felt (if I mastered my normal
+ nervousness) would bristle with epigram, and thrill with
+ heartfelt, brain-inspired eloquence. So deeply interested was I
+ in the matter, that I scarcely listened to my friend's opening,
+ and only became aware of what was happening in Court by the
+ rising of the Judge. Suddenly his Lordship bowed, and
+ disappeared. I looked at the clock&mdash;it was only
+ noon&mdash;and, consequently, an hour and thirty minutes in
+ advance of the time usually selected for the mid-day
+ adjournment. And then, to my dismay, I found that his Lordship
+ was suffering from the influenza! Well, there was nothing to do
+ but to collect my papers, and, assisted by PORTINGTON, return
+ to my chambers. The next day my head ached violently, and I
+ could not move. Then I have a recollection of dictating to my
+ wife long telegrams to PORTINGTON, which I subsequently
+ discovered were neither despatched nor delivered.</p>
+ <hr class="short" />
+
+ <p>When I awoke, I found that the matter of <i>Quicksilver</i>
+ v. <i>Nore</i> had been arranged and settled&mdash;out of
+ Court!</p>
+
+ <p class="author"><i>Pump-handle Court.</i> (<i>Signed</i>) A.
+ BRIEFLESS, JUNIOR.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>NOTICE.&mdash;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" />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol.
+100, May 23, 1891, by Various
+
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+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
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