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diff --git a/old/14199-h/14199-h.htm b/old/14199-h/14199-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2021b6c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14199-h/14199-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2272 @@ +<!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=iso-8859-1" /> + + <title>Punch, January 2, 1892.</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, .footnote {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;} + + p.author {text-align: right;} + --> + /*]]>*/ + </style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, +Jan. 2, 1892, 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, Volume 102, Jan. 2, 1892 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: November 28, 2004 [EBook #14199] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 102.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>January 2, 1892.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page1" + id="page1"></a>[pg 1]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/1-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/1-1.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/1-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/1-2.png" + alt="The Duke of Devonshire." /></a> + </div> + + <center> + <b>BORN, APRIL 27TH, 1808. DIED, DECEMBER 21ST, 1891.</b> + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Learned, large-hearted, liberal Lord of Land,</p> + + <p>As clear of head as generous of hand,</p> + + <p>He lived his honourable length of days,</p> + + <p>A "Duke" whom doughtiest Democrat might praise.</p> + + <p>"Leader" in truth, though not with gifts of + tongue,</p> + + <p>Full many a "Friend of Man" the muse has sung</p> + + <p>Unworthier than patrician CAVENDISH.</p> + + <p>Seeing him pass who may forbear the wish,</p> + + <p>Would more were like him!—Then the proud + command,</p> + + <p>"<i>Noblesse oblige</i>" e'en Mobs might + understand!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>AFTER DINNER—AT THE CLOSE OF THE YEAR.</h2> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE—<i>A Private Room in a well-known Dining + Hotel. Eminent Politicians discussing "shop" over their + walnuts before dispersing for the Christmas + holidays.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>First Eminent Politician</i>. I say that recent speech of + yours at Skegness was a little strong. Preferring the Navy to + the Army! Although the Army is of course the "Best possible + Army," and all that! Eh? I say it was a little too thick!</p> + + <p><i>Second Em. Pol.</i> (<i>quickly</i>). Not a bit of it! + You don't know how well we are getting on at Pall Mall. I give + you my word everything's first-rate. Department working + splendidly. You can't say that at Whitehall and Somerset + House?</p> + + <p><i>First Em. Pol.</i> (<i>warmly</i>). Not say it! We do! + Everything's most satisfactory. Discipline splendid. Never had + such a fine Fleet. And the fireworks we had at the Royal Naval + Exhibition all through the Summer! Well you ought to have seen + them!</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:22%;"> + <a href="images/1-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/1-3.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p><i>Second Em. Pol.</i> (<i>carelessly</i>). Yes, I daresay. + But what have fireworks got to do with the Navy?</p> + + <p><i>First Em. Pol.</i> Why they increased our recruiting + awfully. Fellows went to the Royal Naval Exhibition and saw all + sorts of good things, automatic weighing machine, a + fishing-smack, and Nelson wax-works—and—and that + kind of thing you know, and joined the Navy! Precious good + thing for the Service, I can tell you.</p> + + <p><i>Second Em. Pol.</i> Well, to go back to an old + story—you can't defend the bullying on board <i>The + Britannia</i>.</p> + + <p><i>First Em. Pol.</i> Oh, that's all bosh. Those newspaper + fellows got hold of it for the Silly Season and ran it to + death, but it's the best possible place in the world. No end of + good training for a fellow to command other fellows.</p> + + <p><i>Second Em. Pol.</i> Well, they were down upon you pretty + smartly.</p> + + <p><i>First Em. Pol.</i> (<i>airily</i>). May be. But it's + because they didn't know what they were writing about. How can + a fellow become a good naval officer unless he has been robbed + of his pocket-money, and taught how to lie for his seniors. + Thing's too ridiculous! Hallo, JIMMY, they tell me things are + in a dreadful mess at St. Martin's-le-Grand!</p> + + <p><i>Third Em. Pol.</i> (<i>promptly</i>). Then they tell you + wrong. Never saw anything like it—most perfect + organisation in the world! Absolutely marvellous, + Sir—absolutely marvellous! And the clerks so civil and + obliging. Everybody pleased with them.</p> + + <p><i>Second Em. Pol.</i> Come, that won't do. Your statement + is as hard to digest as too-previous turkey and premature + plum-pudding. The papers are full of complaints all through the + Autumn, and have only stopped recently to make room for those + descriptive and special law reports. You will have them again, + now Term is over.</p> + + <p><i>Third Em. Pol.</i> Who cares for the papers? I tell you + we are absolutely inundated with letters of thanks from Dukes + and Duchesses upwards. No; if you had said that the Colonies + were in a mess, why then—</p> + + <p><i>Fourth Em. Pol.</i> (<i>angrily</i>). What <i>are</i> you + talking about? Why, we are absolutely romping in! Never knew + the Colonies so prosperous as they are now! And we have had to + put on half-a-dozen extra clerks to open and answer the letters + of congratulation we receive hour by hour from every part of + the Empire. Why, everything's splendid—absolutely + splendid!</p> + + <p><i>Second Em. Pol.</i> Well, matters have decidedly mended + since transportation was prohibited. But to return to our + muttons. Waterloo was won—</p> + + <p><i>Fourth Em. Pol.</i> (<i>interrupting</i>). Yes, I know, + by the Militia and the dregs of the population! By the way, + though, the gaols have had better company than now.</p> + + <p><i>Fifth Em. Pol.</i> Hold hard! Don't you abuse my Prisons. + As a matter of fact, the present convicts are the finest, + cleverest, most trustworthy fellows that ever existed. It is + quite an honour to get into a prison nowadays. (<i>With a + sudden burst of anger</i>.) And if any of you doubt my word, + hang me, I will have satisfaction! (<i>Looking round for + opponents</i>.) Come now, who will tread on the tail of my + coat!</p> + + <p><i>Chief and Most Eminent Politician</i>. Gentlemen! + Gentlemen! Come it's getting late, and if we are to see the + dress-rehearsal of the Pantomime, we must be off at once!</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>The Party breaks up to meet later on in the + neighbourhood of Drury Lane.</i></p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <p>FROM OUR SPORTING CITY MAN.—"<i>Pounded before the + Start</i>."—Mr. GOSCHEN's One-pound Note scheme.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page2" + id="page2"></a>[pg 2]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <h3>THE + CHIMES.</h3><a href="images/2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/2.png" + alt="THE CHIMES." /></a> + + <h4>(FRAGMENTS OF A DICKENSIAN DREAM UP TO DATE.)</h4> + </div> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p>It was some time before the great-little old fellow could + compose himself to mend the fire, and draw his chair to the + warm hearth. But, when he had done so, and had trimmed his + lamp, he took his "Extra Special" from his pocket, and began to + read—carelessly at first, and skimming up and down the + columns, but with an earnest and sad attention very soon.</p> + + <p>For this same dreadful paper re-directed <i>Punch's</i> + thoughts into the channel they had taken all that day; thoughts + of the sufferings of the poor, the follies of the rich, the + sins of the wicked, the miseries of the outcast. Seasonable + thoughts, if not exactly festive. For all is not festive, even + at the Festive Season.</p> + + <p>Scandals in high life, starvation in low life; foul floods + of nastiness in Law Courts; muddy tricklings of misery in + lawless alleys; crimes so terrible and revolting; pains so + pitiless and cureless; follies so selfish and wanton, that he + let the journal drop, and fell back in his chair, appalled.</p> + + <p>"Unnatural and cruel, <i>Toby</i>!" he cried. "Unnatural and + cruel! None but people who were born bad at heart—born + bad—who had no business on the earth, could do such + deeds. We're Bad!"</p> + + <p>The Chimes took up the words so suddenly—burst out + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page3" + id="page3"></a>[pg 3]</span> so loud, clear, and + sonorous—that the Bells seemed to strike him in his + chair.</p> + + <p>And what was it that they said?</p> + + <p>"<i>Punch</i> and <i>Toby! Toby</i> and <i>Punch</i>! + Waiting for you, <i>Toby</i> and <i>Punch</i>! Come and see us! + Come and see us! Come and see us! Drag them to us! Haunt and + hunt them! Haunt and hunt them. Break their slumbers! Break + their slumbers! <i>Punch, Toby; Toby, Punch; Toby, Punch; + Punch, Toby</i>!!" Then fiercely back to their impetuous strain + again, and ringing in the very bricks and plaster on the + Sanctum's walls!</p> + + <p><i>Toby</i> barked! <i>Punch</i> listened! Fancy, fancy! No, + no! Nothing of the kind. Again, again, and yet a dozen times + again. "Haunt and hunt them! Haunt and hunt them!"</p> + + <p>"If the tower is really open," said <i>Punch</i>, "what's to + hinder us, <i>Toby</i>, from going up to the steeple, and + seeing for ourselves?" "Nothing," yapped <i>Toby</i>, or sounds + to that effect.</p> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/3.png" + alt="'ARRY OUT 'UNTIN'." /></a> + + <h3>'ARRY OUT 'UNTIN'.</h3> + + <p><i>'Arry</i> (<i>who goes to the Meet in a frost</i>). + "'AVE THE 'OUNDS COME, MY LADS?"</p> + + <p><i>Little Girl</i> (<i>respectfully</i>). "IF YOU + PLEASE, SIR, <i>OUR</i> 'OUNDS DON'T 'UNT IN 'ARD + WEATHER!"]</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>Up, up, up! and round and round; and up, up, up! higher, + higher, higher up!</p> + + <p>There was the belfry where the ringers came. <i>Punch</i> + caught hold of one of the frayed ropes which hung down through + the apertures in the oaken roof. But he started; other hands + seemed on it; he shrank from the thought of waking the deep + Bell. The Bells themselves were higher. Higher, <i>Punch</i> + and <i>Toby</i>, in their fascination, or working out the spell + upon them, groped their way; until, ascending through the + floor, and pausing, with his head raised just above its beams + <i>Punch</i> came among the Bells. It was barely possible to + make out their great shapes in the gloom; but there they were. + Shadowy, and dark, and dumb.</p> + + <p>He listened, and then raised a wild "Halloa!" "Halloa!" was + mournfully protracted by the echoes. Giddy, confused, and out + of breath, <i>Punch</i> looked about him vacantly, and sank + down in a swoon.</p> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p>He saw the tower, whither his charmed footsteps had brought + him, swarming with dwarf phantoms, sprites, elfin creatures of + the Bells. He saw them leaping, flying, dropping, pouring from + the Bells without a pause. He saw them, round him on the + ground; above him in the air; clambering from him by the ropes + below; looking down upon him from the massive iron-girdered + beams; peeping in upon him through the chinks and loopholes in + the walls; spreading away and away from him in enlarging + circles. He saw them of all aspects and all shapes. He saw them + ugly, handsome, crippled, exquisitely formed. He saw them + young, he saw them old; he saw them kind, he saw them cruel; he + saw them merry, he saw them grim; he saw them dance, he heard + them sing; he saw them tear their hair, he heard them howl. He + saw the air thick with them.</p> + + <p><i>Wh-o-o-o-sh!</i> With what a wild whirr of startled wings + the owls and bats scurried away, dim spectral hiding things + that love the darkness and the silence of night, and shrink + from light and cheerful sounds! "Well rid of <i>you</i>!" + murmured <i>Punch</i>, as <i>Toby</i> barked at the flying + phantoms.</p> + + <p>But among the other swarming sprites, and circling elfs, and + frolic phantoms of the Bells, <i>Punch</i> beheld brighter + things. That pleasant pair, hand in hand, princely-looking + both, and loving withal, bring a music as of marriage-bells + "all in the wild March morning." And those other goodly and + gracious presences, hint they not of Health and Home Happiness, + and Benignant Art, and Humanity-serving Science, of Electric + Sympathy, and Ready Rescue, of Mammon-thwarting Reform, and + Misery-staying Benevolence; of all the spiritual charities and + fairy graces that can bless and brighten country and hearth, + Sire and citizen, master and servant, employer and employed, + struggling man, suffering woman and helpless child? + <i>Punch</i> read in their whirling forms and expressive faces + the signs and promise of all the best and brightest influences + of the time, happy and opportune attendants upon the auspicious + hour of this the opening day of the New Year!</p> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p><i>Bim, Bom, Boom!!! Clang, Cling, Clang</i>!!! What are + those hands tugging at the ropes, swinging the Bells big and + little, evoking the stormy clashes and soothing cadences of the + Chimes?</p> + + <p>Surely those of the youthful New Year himself! An echo from + the long-silent lips of the great Christmas-glorifier and lover + of poor humanity seemed to ring in <i>Punch's</i> + ears:—</p> + + <p>"Who hears in us, the Chimes, one note bespeaking disregard, + or <span class="pagenum"><a name="page4" + id="page4"></a>[pg 4]</span> stern regard, of any hope, or + joy or pain, or sorrow, of the many-sorrowed throng; who + hears us make response to any creed that gauges human + passions and affections, as it gauges the amount of + miserable food on which humanity may pine and wither, does + us wrong!"</p> + + <p>"Right you are!" cried <i>Punch</i>, cordially, <i>Toby</i> + yapping assent.</p> + + <p>He might have said more, but the Bells, the dear familiar + Bells, his own dear constant, steady friends, the Chimes, began + to ring the joy-peals for a New Year so lustily, so merrily, so + happily, so gaily, that he (like poor old <i>Trotty Veck</i>) + leapt to his feet, and broke the spell that bound him.</p> + <hr class="short" /> + + <p>"Yes, that is still the true Spirit of the Chimes," mused + <i>Mr. Punch</i>, as he took pen in hand to open up his new + Volume. "And that's the spirit I hope to keep up right through + the twelve months of just-born Eighteen Hundred and Ninety-two, + which I trust may be—with my willing assistance,</p> + + <center> + A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL OF YOU!!!" + </center> + <hr /> + + <h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + + <p>One of the Baron's Critical Faculty sends him his opinion of + our Mr. DU MAURIER's latest novel, which is also his first. And + here let it be published <i>urbi et orbi</i> that there is no + truth whatever in a report which appeared in an evening paper + to the effect that Mr. DU MAURIER, however retiring he may be, + was about to retire or had retired from <i>Mr. Punch's</i> + Staff. The <i>St. James's Gazette</i> has already + "authoritatively" denied the assertion; and this denial the + Baron for <i>Mr. Punch</i>, decisively confirms. Now, to the + notice of the book above-mentioned. Here it is:—</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:30%;"> + <a href="images/4-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/4-1.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>"There has been a certain deliberateness in Mr. DU MAURIER's + incursion into literature that speaks eloquently for his + modesty. He is, to our certain knowledge, at least 40 years + old, and <i>Peter Ibbetson</i>, which Messrs. OSGOOD & CO. + present in two daintily dressed volumes, is his first essay in + romantic writing. Reading the book, it is hard to conceive this + to be the fact. The work is entirely free from those traces of + amateurishness, almost inseparable from a first effort. The + literary style is considerably above the average modern + novelist; the plot is marked by audacious invention, worked out + with great skill; the hero is a madman, not in itself an + attractive arrangement, but there is such admirable method in + his madness, such fine poetic feeling in the conception of + character, and the ghosts who flit through the pages of the + story are so exceedingly human, that one feels quite at home + with <i>Peter</i>, and is really sorry when, all too soon, his + madness passes away, and he awakes to a new life, to find + himself an old man. Apart from its strong dramatic interest, + <i>Peter Ibbetson</i> has rare value, from the pictures of Old + Paris in the last days of LOUIS-PHILIPPE, which crowd in + charming succession through the first volume. Mr. GEORGE DU + MAURIER, the well-known artist in black and white, has + generously assisted Mr. GEORGE DU MAURIER, the rising novelist, + by profusely illustrating the work. 'Tis a pretty rivalry; hard + to say which has the better of it. Wherein a discerning Public, + long familiar with DU MAURIER's sketches, will recognise a note + of highest praise for the new departure."</p> + + <p>The Baron recommends Mrs. OLIPHANT's <i>The Railway Man and + his Children</i>, which is a good story, with just such a dash + of the improbable—but there, who can bring improbability + as a charge against the plot constructed by any novelist after + this great Jewel Case so recently tried? Mrs. OLIPHANT's types + are well drawn; but the story is drawn out by just one volume + too much. "For a one-volume novel commend me," quoth the Baron, + "to Miss RHODA-BROUGHTON-CUM-ELIZABETH-BISLAND's <i>A Widower + Indeed</i>. But ... wait till after the festivities are over to + read it, as the tale is sad." <i>En attendant</i>, A Happy New + Year to everyone, says</p> + + <p class="author">THE BENIGN BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>SIMPLE STORIES.</h2> + + <h4>"Be always kind to animals wherever you may be!"</h4> + + <h3>FRANK AND THE FOX.</h3> + + <p>FRANK was a very studious and clever little boy.</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/4-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/4-2.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>He took the keenest delight in music, and when he had + mastered his lessons, he was very fond of playing on the + concertina, and singing to his own accompaniment. He could + already play "<i>The Bells go a-ringing for Sarah</i>!" with + considerable finish and expression, and since his Uncle + DODDLEWIG had presented him with half-a-crown for his + performance, he had given the air with variations, and the song + with every description of embellishment, all over the paternal + mansion, and in most corners of the ancestral estate.</p> + + <p>To tell the truth, his family were getting somewhat tired of + his continued asseverations concerning the tintinabulatory + tribute everlastingly rendered to the excellent young woman. + And had he not been so markedly encouraged by rich old Uncle + DODDLEWIG, there is every reason to suppose that FRANK and his + concertina would have been speedily suppressed.</p> + + <p>FRANK heard his Papa lamenting that foxes were so very + scarce, that recently they had had no sport whatever. "There + must be plenty of foxes in the country," said the Squire, "but + they won't show."</p> + + <p>Now FRANK had been reading about Orpheus, and how he charmed + all the wild beasts with his melody. It was true the boy had + not a lyre, but he had no doubt that his concertina would do as + well, and he was quite certain he had seen a fox while taking + his rambles in Tippity Thicket,</p> + + <p>One day when he had a holiday, and his Papa had gone a + hunting with his friends, he strolled off with his concertina + to endeavour to lure a fox out into the open. He approached the + hole where he had previously seen the fox, and sat down, and + began to play vigorously on his concertina, and to sing at the + top of his voice, "The Bells go a-ringing for <i>Say</i>-rah! + <i>Say</i>-rah! <i>Say</i>-rah!" Presently he saw a huge Fox + poke his nose out of the hole. He was delighted! He sang and + played with renewed energy, and began to walk away, still + singing and playing.</p> + + <p>The Fox followed, snarling, and snapping, and appearing very + angry. The more he played, the more the Fox snarled and + snapped. At last the animal became furious, all the hair on its + back stood on end, and it began to make short runs with its + mouth open at the young musician.</p> + + <p>It sprang upon him! He was terrified! He dropped his song + and his concertina at the same moment, and scrambled up the + nearest tree.</p> + + <p>The Fox's fury then knew no bounds; he trampled on the + concertina, he bit it, he tore open the bellows, and having + reduced it to a shapeless mass, bore it away to his hole.</p> + + <p>When the coast was quite clear, FRANK descended, and slunk + home.</p> + + <p>The next morning one of the keepers found a dead fox. It had + apparently died of suffocation, as sixteen ivory + concertina-stops were found in its throat.</p> + + <p>FRANK now has entirely ceased to believe in Ancient + Mythology, and has been even heard to hint that he considers + Dr. LEMPRIÈRE a bit of a humbug.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>"LOST TO SIGHT, TO MEMORY DEAR."—An animal very + difficult to secure again when once off ... and that is ... "a + pony," when you've lost it on Newmarket Heath.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page5" + id="page5"></a>[pg 5]</span> + + <h2>LETTERS TO ABSTRACTIONS.</h2> + + <h3>No. IX.—TO CROOKEDNESS.</h3> + + <p>I dispense with all formal opening, and I begin at once. I + want to tell you a story. Don't ask me why; for, even if I + answered the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, + you would hardly believe me. Let me merely say that I want to + tell you a story, and tell it without much further preface.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/5.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/5.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>Two days ago I chanced, for no special reason, to open the + drawers of an old writing-table, which for years past had + stood, unused, in a corner of an upper room. In one I found a + rusty screw, in another a couple of dusty envelopes, in a third + a piece of sealing-wax, half-a-dozen nibs, and a broken pencil. + The fourth, and last drawer, was very stiff. For a long time it + defied my efforts, and it was only by a great exertion of + strength that I was at last able to wrench it open. To my + surprise I saw two packets of letters, tied together with faded + ribbon. I took them up, and then remembered, with a start, what + they were. They were all in their envelopes, and all were + addressed, in the same hand-writing, to Sir CHARLES CALLENDER, + Bart., Curzon Street, Mayfair. They were his wife's letters, + and, after the death of Sir CHARLES, whose sole executor I was, + they came into my possession,—Sir CHARLES, for some + inscrutable reason, never having destroyed them, although, + after his wife's death, the reading of them cannot have given + him much pleasure. No doubt I ought to have destroyed them. I + had never read them; but there, in that forgotten drawer, they + had lain, the silent dust accumulating upon them as the years + rolled on. They reminded me of the story I am about to + relate—a story of which, I think, no one except myself + has guessed the truth, and which, in most of its details, I + only knew from a paper, carefully closed, heavily sealed, and + addressed to me, which I found amongst my friend's documents. + It was in his hand-writing throughout, but I shall tell it in + my own words, and in my own way.</p> + + <p>Nobody who was about in London Society some thirty years + ago, could fail to know or know about the beautiful Lady + CALLENDER. She was of a good county family. She was clever and + accomplished. She had married a man rich, generous, amiable, + and cultivated, who adored her. Unfortunately they had no + children, but, in every other respect, Lady CALLENDER seemed to + be very justly an object of envy and admiration to most of the + men and women of her circle. Personally I had no great liking + for her. I don't take any credit for that—far from it. + The reason may have been that her Ladyship (although I was one + of her husband's best friends, had been his school chum, and + had "kept" with him in the same set of rooms at Cambridge, + where his triumphs, physical and intellectual, are still + remembered) never much cared for me. She could dissemble her + real feelings better than any woman I ever knew, she always + greeted me with a smile, she even made a parade of taking my + advice on little family difficulties, but there was an + indefinable something in her manner which convinced me that + beneath all her smiles she bore me no good-will. The fact is + that, without any design on my part, I had detected her in one + or two bits of trickery, and, in what I suppose I must call her + heart of hearts, she never forgave me. The truth is, though her + guileless husband only knew it too late, she was perhaps the + trickiest and the most heartless woman in England. If there + were two roads to the attainment of any object, the one + straight, broad, smooth and short, the other round-about, + obscure, narrow and encompassed with pitfalls and beset by + difficulties, she would deliberately choose the latter for no + other reason that I could ever see except that by treading it + she might be able to deceive her friends as to her true + direction. She carried to a fine art the small intrigues, the + petty jealousies, the mean manoeuvres in the science of + outwitting; the shifts, the stratagems, the evasions by which + power in Society is often supposed to be confirmed, reputations + are frequently ruined, and lives are almost invariably made + wretched. But Sir CHARLES knew none of these things. He was + apparently only too proud to be dragged at his wife's + chariot-wheels in her triumphant progress. For the strange part + of the business is that there was absolutely no need for any of + her deeply-laid schemes. Success, popularity and esteem would + have come to her readily without them. She was, as I said, + beautiful. Innocence seemed to be throned on her fresh and + glowing face. Her smile fascinated, her voice was a poem, and + she was musical in the best sense of the word at a time when + good music, although it might lack popular support, could + always command a small band of enthusiastic votaries in + London.</p> + + <p>There was at this time living in London an Italian artist, + man of letters and musical <i>virtuoso</i>, who was the spoiled + darling of Society. All the women raved about him, the men + liked him, for he had fought bravely on the field of battle, + was a sportsman and had about him that frank and abundant + <i>gaieté de coeur</i>, which powerfully attracts the less + exuberant Englishman. For his part CASANUOVA (that was his + name) bore all his successes with good-nature and without + swagger. Of course there were whispers about him. Where so many + women worshipped, it was certain that two or three would lose + their heads. Amongst this limited number was little Mrs. + MILLETT, one of Lady CALLENDER's most intimate friends. She + made no secret of her <i>grande passion</i>. She poured her + tale into the ears of Lady CALLENDER, and asked for sympathy + and help. Lady CALLENDER promised both, and at the self-same + moment, made up her mind that she would withdraw from Mrs. + MILLETT such affection as CASANUOVA had honoured her with, and + bring him, not because she cared for him, but merely for the + sport of the thing, to her own feet. She succeeded admirably. + Under the pretence of bringing CASANUOVA and Mrs. MILLETT + together (such things, you know, have been done in good + Society) she invited him constantly to her house; she gave + musical parties in his honour, she used all her fascinations, + and finally, having fooled Ariadne to the top of her bent, she + captured Theseus, and bore him off.</p> + + <p>Mrs. MILLETT was a foolish and frivolous little woman. Rage + and despair made her a demon. She resolved on revenge, and + proceeded to it with a cool and astonishing persistency. Now I + do not myself believe that Lady CALLENDER cared two straws + about CASANUOVA. What she aimed at and enjoyed was the + discomfiture of a friend. In order to obtain it, however, she + committed a fatal imprudence. She wrote some letters which + would have convinced even a French jury of her guilt. By a + master-stroke of cunning wickedness, Mrs. MILLETT gained + possession of them, and sent them to Sir CHARLES. It happened + that about this time Sir CHARLES was in a very low state of + health, and his friends were anxious about him. One afternoon, + when Sir CHARLES was confined to his bed, Lady CALLENDER was + playing the piano to her Italian slave. A message was brought + to her that her husband desired to see her for a few minutes, + and she tripped gaily away, saying to CASANUOVA, "Wait here; I + shall return directly." In a quarter of an hour, however, her + maid came to tell him that her Ladyship was suffering, and + begged him to excuse her, and he departed. When the maid + returned to Lady CALLENDER, she found her lying dead on the + floor of her room, with a small phial, which had contained + prussic acid, clasped tightly in her hand.</p> + + <p>This is what had happened: Sir CHARLES had received the + letters; they left no doubt in his mind that the wife he adored + was betraying him, and he, too, resolved on revenge. He sent + for his wife. When she came in, he at once confronted her with + her letters, and taxed her with her guilt. A terrible scene of + tears, entreaties, and bitter reproaches ensued, but Sir + CHARLES was as adamant, and his wife retired to her bedroom in + a state of nervous prostration, which immediately brought on a + toothache. At this point she sent for her maid, and gave her + the message to CASANUOVA.</p> + + <p>The Coroner was sympathetic, and did what he could, but the + evidence in favour of the suicide theory seemed overwhelming, + and the jury returned a verdict to this effect, with a rider + strongly commenting on the danger of selling such deadly + poisons. But it was never explained how Lady CALLENDER obtained + the prussic acid, nor why she had selected that particular + moment for its use. I ought to add, that CASANUOVA left England + before the inquest, and has never returned. On the mystery of + the final catastrophe the manuscript throws no light. It ends + abruptly. But the whole tone of it leads me to believe, that in + some unexplained manner Sir CHARLES himself had been + instrumental in causing his wife's death. But you, no doubt, + know, and could tell us if you wished.</p> + + <p>So there, my friend, you have the story. Sorry I couldn't + make it more cheerful. Do you remember the part you played in + it?</p> + + <p class="author">Yours, &c.,<br /> + DIOGENES ROBINSON.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page6" + id="page6"></a>[pg 6]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:70%;"> + <a href="images/6.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/6.png" + alt="EXTRACT FROM THE CATALOGUE OF A RECENT SALE." /> + </a> + + <h3>EXTRACT FROM THE CATALOGUE OF A RECENT SALE.</h3>"A + PAIR OF OLD-FASHIONED SNUFFERS. VERY RARE." + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE COMING OF NINETY-TWO.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>With humble apologies, and hearty New-Year greetings, + to the illustrious Author of</i> "<i>The Coming of + Arthur</i>.")</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And PUNCHIUS ever served the good Old Year</p> + + <p>Before his death-hour struck; and on the night</p> + + <p>When he, on twelve's last stroke must pass away,</p> + + <p>Room making for his heir, great PUNCHIUS-MERLIN</p> + + <p>Left the Old King, and passing forth to breathe,</p> + + <p>Then from the mystic gateway by the chasm</p> + + <p>Descending through the wintry night—a + night</p> + + <p>In which the bounds of year and year were + blent—</p> + + <p>Beheld, so high upon the wave-tost deep</p> + + <p>It seemed in heaven, a light, the shape thereof</p> + + <p>An angel winged, and all from head to feet</p> + + <p>Bright with a shining radiance golden-rayed,</p> + + <p>And gone as soon as seen; and PUNCHIUS knew</p> + + <p>The oft-glimpsed face of Hope, the blue-eyed + guest,</p> + + <p>Avant-courier of Peace and of Good Will,</p> + + <p>And herald of Good Tidings. Then the Sage</p> + + <p>Dropt to the cave, and watched the great sea + fall</p> + + <p>Wave after wave, each mightier than the last.</p> + + <p>Till last, a great one, gathering half the deep</p> + + <p>And full of voices, slowly rose and plunged,</p> + + <p>Roaring, and all the wave was in a flame.</p> + + <p>And down the wave and in the flame, was borne</p> + + <p>A naked Babe, and rode to PUNCH's feet,</p> + + <p>Who stoopt, and caught the Babe, and cried "The + Year!</p> + + <p>Here is an heir for Ninety-One!" The fringe</p> + + <p>Of that great breaker, sweeping up the strand</p> + + <p>Lashed at the wizard as he spake the word,</p> + + <p>And all at once all round him rose in light,</p> + + <p>So that the Child and he were clothed in light,</p> + + <p>And presently thereafter followed calm,</p> + + <p>Loud bells, and song!</p> + + <p class="i10">"And this same Child," PUNCH said,</p> + + <p>"Twelve moons shall reign, nor will I part with + him</p> + + <p>Till these be told." And saying this the Sage,</p> + + <p>The Modern MERLIN of the motley coat,</p> + + <p>Wizard of Wit and Seer of Sunny Mirth,</p> + + <p>Took up the wave-borne youngster in his arms,</p> + + <p>His nurse, his champion, his Mentor wise,</p> + + <p>And bare him shoreward out of wind and wet,</p> + + <p>Into his sanctum, where choice fare was spread,</p> + + <p>And cosy comfort ready to receive</p> + + <p>Young Ninety-Two, and give him a "send-off"</p> + + <p>Such as should strengthen and encourage him</p> + + <p>To make fair start, and face those many moons</p> + + <p>Of multiform vicissitude with pluck,</p> + + <p>Good hope and patient pertinacity.</p> + + <p>And when men sought the Modern MERLIN's ear</p> + + <p>And asked him what these matters might portend,</p> + + <p>The shining angel, and the naked Child</p> + + <p>Descending in the glory of the seas,</p> + + <p>He laughed, as is his wont, and answered them</p> + + <p>In riddling triplets of old time, and said:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Peace and good-will! Croaking is all my eye!</p> + + <p>A young man will be wiser by-and-by,</p> + + <p>An old man's wit should ripen ere he die.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Patience and pluck! Fretting is fiddle-de-dee.</p> + + <p>And youth has yet to learn to act and see,</p> + + <p>And youth is well-advised that trusts to Me!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Hope and good cheer! This youngster's fate who + knows?</p> + + <p>Sun, rain, and frost will greet him ere life's + close;</p> + + <p>From the great dark to the great dark he goes."</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So MERLIN, riddling, answered them; but thou,</p> + + <p>Fear not to face thy fate, O sea-born Child!</p> + + <p>Young Ninety-Two! Great Bards of thee may sing</p> + + <p>Hereafter; and great sayings from of old</p> + + <p>Ranging and ringing thro' the minds of men,</p> + + <p>Of Progress, and Improvement, and of Peace,</p> + + <p>Of nobler Work, and a more ample Wage,</p> + + <p>Of wider culture, and of worthier joys,</p> + + <p>Larger attainments, and less coarse desires,</p> + + <p>And gentler tastes; these shall be heard of + youth.</p> + + <p>And echo'd by old folk beside their fires,</p> + + <p>For comfort after <i>their</i> wage-work is + done—</p> + + <p>No workhouse fires, but cosy fires of + Home!—</p> + + <p>These thee shall greet, PUNCH-MERLIN, in thy + time,</p> + + <p>Shall voice them also, not in jest, and swear,</p> + + <p>Though men may wound Truth, that she will not + die,</p> + + <p>But pass, again to come; and, then or now,</p> + + <p>Utterly smite foul Falsehood underfoot,</p> + + <p>Till, with PUNCH, all men hail her for their + Queen!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>Climatic Nomenclature for the New Year.</h3> + + <h4>(<i>Suggested by recent Developments of the British + Seasons.</i>)</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Spring = The Clog Days.</p> + + <p>Summer = The Dog Days.</p> + + <p>Autumn = The Bog Days.</p> + + <p>Winter = The Fog Days.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>ATRABILIOUS LIVERPOOL.—The City Council of + Liverpool—notwithstanding the generous urgings of its + more important members—refuses to bestow the "honour of" + the freedom "of that City" upon its illustrious if—from + their point of view—errant son, Mr. GLADSTONE. As Madame + ROLAND <i>ought</i> to have said:—O "Freedom," what + liberties are taken (with common sense and good feeling) in thy + name!</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page7" + id="page7"></a>[pg 7]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/7.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/7.png" + alt="THE COMING OF NINETY-TWO" /></a> + + <h3>THE COMING OF NINETY-TWO</h3><i>TO THE MODERN MERLIN, + MR. PUNCH.</i> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"AND DOWN THE WAVE, AND IN THE FLAME WAS + BORNE</p> + + <p class="i2">A NAKED BABE, AND RODE TO PUNCH'S + FEET,</p> + + <p>WHO STOOPT, AND CAUGHT THE BABE, AND CRIED, 'THE + YEAR!</p> + + <p class="i2">HERE IS AN HEIR FOR + NINETY-ONE!'"—<i>Adapted from Tennyson's</i> + "<i>Coming of Arthur</i>."</p> + </div> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page9" + id="page9"></a>[pg 9]</span> + + <h2>TO JUSTICE.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>In January.</i>)</h4> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:33%;"> + <a href="images/9-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/9-1.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Just take a look round, most respectable Madam;</p> + + <p class="i2">New Year's Day is an excellent time for + the task,</p> + + <p>When serious thoughts come to each son of Adam</p> + + <p class="i2">Who dares to peep under Convention's smug + mask.</p> + + <p>Your sword looks a little bit rusty and notched, + Ma'am;</p> + + <p class="i2">Your scales now and then hang a trifle + askew;</p> + + <p>A lot of your Ministers need to be watched, + Ma'am!</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Punch</i> isn't quite pleased with the + prospect—are you?</p> + + <p>If one could but take a wide survey, though + summary,</p> + + <p class="i2">Of <i>all</i> the strange "sentences" + passed in one year</p> + + <p>By persons called "Justices"—(yes, it + <i>sounds</i> flummery)</p> + + <p class="i2">Justice would look like Burlesque, Ma'am, + I fear.</p> + + <p>Excellent subject for whimsical GILBERT,</p> + + <p class="i2">But not a nice spectacle, Madam, for + me.</p> + + <p>Long spell of "chokee" for prigging + a—filbert</p> + + <p class="i2">(Given, you bet, by some rural J.P.);</p> + + <p>Easy let-off for a bogus "Promoter,"</p> + + <p class="i2">Helping the ruin of hundreds for + gain;</p> + + <p>Six months for stealing a turnip or "bloater,"</p> + + <p class="i2">Ditto for bashing a wife on the + brain:</p> + + <p>Sentences cut to one-twelfth on appealing,</p> + + <p class="i2">Judges and juries at loggerheads + quite!</p> + + <p>Really each day brings some curious revealing,</p> + + <p class="i2">Putting you, Ma'am, in a very strange + light.</p> + + <p>Take my advice, Ma'am, this bright New Year's + morning,</p> + + <p class="i2">Give a look up to your agents all + round;</p> + + <p>To some give the sack, and to others a warning;</p> + + <p>The Public will back up your move, I'll be + bound!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>GREEK MEETS GREEK.—"What!" exclaimed an indignant + scholar, who had not peeped into a Classic for some forty + years, "no more compulsory Greek at our Universities! What are + we coming to? All I can say is, '<i>Absit omen</i>'!" "'Scuse + me!" replied his friend, who was all for the new learning, "but + I should say, '<i>Absit Homer</i>'!"</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>SEASONABLE (AND SUITABLE) GOOD WISHES.</h3> + + <table summary="" + align="center" + width="100%"> + <tr> + <td align="left">To a Card-player</td> + + <td align="left">A Nappy</td> + + <td align="center" + rowspan="14" + valign="middle"><font size="+300">}</font></td> + + <td rowspan="14" + valign="middle">New Year to you!</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left">To a Smart Girl</td> + + <td align="left">A "Snappy"</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left">To a Flirt</td> + + <td align="left">A "Chappy"</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left">To an Old Maid</td> + + <td align="left">A Cappy</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left">To an Infant</td> + + <td align="left">A Pappy</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left">To a Pigeon-shot</td> + + <td align="left">A Trappy</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left">To an Explorer</td> + + <td align="left">A Mappy</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left">To a Student</td> + + <td align="left">A Sappy</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left">To a Cross Child</td> + + <td align="left">A Slappy</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left">To an aspiring Pugilist</td> + + <td align="left">A "Scrappy"</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left">To a Spiritualist</td> + + <td align="left">A Tappy</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left">To a Toper</td> + + <td align="left">A "Lappy"</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left">To <i>Toby</i></td> + + <td align="left">A Yappy</td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="left">To a Snuff-taker</td> + + <td align="left">A Rappee</td> + </tr> + </table> + <hr /> + + <h3>GIFTS FOR THE NEW YEAR.</h3> + + <p><i>H-r M-j-sty</i>.—The hearty congratulations of a + loyal and united people.</p> + + <p><i>The Pr-nce and Pr-nc-ss</i>.—The most welcome of + daughters-in-law.</p> + + <p><i>Prince Alb-rt V-ct-r</i>.—MAY in February.</p> + + <p><i>The Rest of the R-y-l F-m-ly</i>.—The best of + wishes from everybody.</p> + + <p><i>L-rd S-l-sb-ry</i>.—A General Election.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Arth-r B-lf-r</i>.—A Translation from the + Irish.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. J. Ch-mb-rl-n</i>.—Promotion.</p> + + <p><i>Sir W-ll-m H-rc-rt</i>.—A Vision of the + Woolsack.</p> + + <p><i>The Cz-r of R-ss-a</i>.—A Vision of another sort of + Sack.</p> + + <p><i>The G-rm-n Emp-r-r</i>. New toys personally selected.</p> + + <p><i>President C-rn-t</i>.—The compliments of the + Marquis of DUFFERIN.</p> + + <p><i>Herr Ibs-n</i>.—A tale without a plot.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. R-dy-rd K-pl-ng</i>.—Quite another story.</p> + + <p><i>The Corporation of L-v-rp-l</i>.—The Freedom of the + Grand Old Man.</p> + + <p><i>The Gr-nd Old M-n</i>.—The loss of the Corporation + of Liverpool.</p> + + <p><i>And Mr. P-nch</i>.—Tons of material (voluntarily + contributed) for the Grand Old Waste Paper Basket.</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>BOS v. BOSS.</h3> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:22%;"> + <a href="images/9-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/9-2.png" + alt="Bos Locutus Est!" /></a>Bos Locutus Est! + </div> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>[One of the Delegates at the Conference on Rural Reforms + said, "We do not want to be bossed by the Parsons"; + another, "We don't want soup or blankets, but fair + play."]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>O GENEROUS gents, who have the "cure of souls,"</p> + + <p>Learn hence that justice wins far more than + doles.</p> + + <p>Blankets and soup Dames Bountiful may give,</p> + + <p>But what HODGE craves is a fair chance to live</p> + + <p>On labour fairly paid, not casual boons.</p> + + <p>SALISBURY's "Circuses," and smart buffoons,</p> + + <p>Won't move him, by "amusement," from that wish.</p> + + <p>Parties may mutually denounce or "dish;"</p> + + <p>But what will win the Labourer for a friend</p> + + <p>Is Home and Work, without the Workhouse end!</p> + + <p>Listen! Those who heed not will bide the loss,</p> + + <p>For <i>Bos locutus est,—against the</i> + "<i>Boss</i>"!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>LAYS OF MODERN HOME.</h2> + + <h3>No. I.—"MY HOUSEMAID!"</h3> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:30%;"> + <a href="images/9-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/9-3.png" + alt="Housemaid." /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Who, as our Dresden's wreck we scanned,</p> + + <p>Protested, with assurance bland,</p> + + <p>"It come to pieces in my 'and"?</p> + + <p class="i4">My Housemaid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Who "tidies" things each Monday morn,</p> + + <p>And hides—until, with search outworn,</p> + + <p>I wish I never had been born?</p> + + <p class="i4">My Housemaid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Who "turns" my study "out" that day,</p> + + <p>And then contrives to pitch away</p> + + <p>As "rubbish" (which it is) my Play?</p> + + <p class="i4">My Housemaid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Who guards within her jealous care,</p> + + <p>Mending or marking, till I swear,</p> + + <p>The underclothes I long to wear?</p> + + <p class="i4">My Housemaid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Who cultivates a habit most</p> + + <p>Perverse, of running to "The Post"</p> + + <p>To meet her brothers (<i>such</i> a host!)?</p> + + <p class="i4">My Housemaid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Who, <i>if</i> she spends her "Sundays out"</p> + + <p>At Chapel, as she does, no doubt,</p> + + <p>Must be protractedly devout?</p> + + <p class="i4">My Housemaid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Who takes my novels down (it must</p> + + <p>Be, as she vows, of course, "to dust"),</p> + + <p>And thumbs them, much to my disgust?</p> + + <p class="i4">My Housemaid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Who "can't abide" a play or ball,</p> + + <p>But dearly loves a Funeral,</p> + + <p>Or Exeter's reproachless Hall?</p> + + <p class="i4">My Housemaid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Who late returning thence, in fits</p> + + <p>Of what she terms "Histories," sits,—</p> + + <p><i>And this day month my service quits</i>?</p> + + <p class="i4">My Housemaid.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>QUITE CLEAR.—"<i>Aha! mon ami</i>," exclaimed our + friend JULES, during the recent murky weather in Town, "you ask + me the difference between our Paris and your London. + <i>Tenez</i>, I will tell you. Paris is always <i>très gai, + veritablement gai</i>; but London is <i>toujours faux + gai</i>—you see it is always fo-gay." And he meant + "fog-gy." Well, he wasn't far wrong, just now.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page10" + id="page10"></a>[pg 10]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/10.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/10.png" + alt="'COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE.'" /> + </a> + + <h3>"COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE."</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page11" + id="page11"></a>[pg 11]</span> + + <h2>THE TRAVELLING COMPANIONS.</h2> + + <h3>No. XXI.</h3> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE—<i>The Steps of the Hotel Dandolo, about</i> + 11 A.M. PODBURY <i>is looking expectantly down the Grand + Canal</i>, CULCHARD <i>is leaning upon the + balustrade.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Podbury</i>. Yes, met BOB just now. They've gone to the + Europa, but we've arranged to take a gondola together, and go + about. They're to pick me up here. Ah, that looks rather like + them. (<i>A gondola approaches, with</i> Miss PRENDERGAST + <i>and</i> BOB; PODBURY <i>goes down the steps to meet + them.</i>) How are you, Miss PRENDERGAST? Here I <i>am</i>, you + see.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/11.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/11.png" + alt="'I guess you want to Cologne <i>your</i> cheeks!'" /> + </a>"I guess you want to Cologne <i>your</i> cheeks!" + </div> + + <p><i>Miss Prendergast</i>t (<i>ignoring C.'s salute</i>). How + do you do, Mr. PODBURY? Surely you don't propose to go out in a + gondola in <i>that</i> hat!</p> + + <p><i>Podb.</i> (<i>taking off a brown "pot-hat," and + inspecting it</i>). It—it's quite <i>decent</i>. It was + new when I came away!</p> + + <p><i>Bob</i> (<i>who is surly this morning</i>). Hang it all, + 'PATIA! Do you want him to come out in a chimney-pot? Jump in, + old fellow; never mind your tile?</p> + + <p><i>Podb.</i> (<i>apologetically</i>). I had a straw + one—but I sat on it. I'm awfully sorry, Miss PRENDERGAST. + Look here, shall I go and see if I can buy one?</p> + + <p><i>Miss P.</i> Not now—it doesn't signify, for once. + But around hat and a gondola are really <i>too</i> + incongruous!</p> + + <p><i>Podb.</i> Are they? A lot of the Venetians seem to wear + 'em. (<i>He steps in</i>.) Now what are we going to + do—just potter about?</p> + + <p><i>Miss P.</i> One hardly comes to Venice to <i>potter</i>! + I thought we'd go and study the Carpaccios at the Church of the + Schiavoni first—they won't take us more than an hour or + so; then cross to San Giorgio Maggiore, and see the Tintorets, + come back and get a general idea of the exterior of St. Mark's, + and spend the afternoon at the Accademia.</p> + + <p><i>Podb.</i> (<i>with a slight absence of heartiness</i>). + Capital! And—er—lunch at the Academy, I + suppose?</p> + + <p><i>Miss P.</i> There does not happen to be a restaurant + there—we shall see what time we have. I must say <i>I</i> + regard every minute of daylight spent on food here as a sinful + waste.</p> + + <p><i>Bob</i>. Now just look here, 'PATIA, if you <i>are</i> + bossing this show, you needn't go cutting us off our grub! What + do <i>you</i> say, JEM?</p> + + <p><i>Podb.</i> (<i>desperately anxious to please</i>). Oh, I + don't know that I care about lunch myself—much.</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Their voices die away on the water.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Culch.</i> (<i>musing</i>). She might have <i>bowed</i> + to me!... <i>She</i> has escaped the mosquitoes.... Ah, well, I + doubt if she'll find those two particularly sympathetic + companions! Now I <i>should</i> enjoy a day spent in that way. + Why shouldn't I, as it is? I daresay MAUD will—</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Turns and sees</i> Mr. TROTTER.</p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Mr. T.</i> My darter will be along presently. She's + Cologning her cheeks—they've swelled up again some. I + guess you want to Cologne <i>your</i> cheeks—they're + dreadful lumpy. I've just been on the Pi-azza again, Sir. It's + curious now the want of enterprise in these Vernetians. Anyone + would have expected they'd have thrown a couple or so of + girder-bridges across the canal between this and the Ri-alto, + and run an elevator up the Campanile—but this ain't what + you might call a <i>business</i> city, Sir, and that's a fact. + (<i>To</i> Miss T. <i>as she appears</i>.) Hello, MAUD, the + ice-water cool down your face any?</p> + + <p><i>Miss T.</i> Not <i>much</i>. My face just made that + ice-water boil over. I don't believe I'll ever have a + complexion again—it's divided up among several dozen + mosquitoes, who've no use for one. But it's vurry consoling to + look at <i>you</i>, Mr. CULCHARD, and feel there's a pair of + us. Now what way do you propose we should endeavor to forget + our sufferings?</p> + + <p><i>Culch.</i> Well, we might spend the morning in St. + Mark's—?</p> + + <p><i>Miss T.</i> The morning! Why, Poppa and I saw the entire + show I inside of ten minutes, before breakfast!</p> + + <p><i>Culch.</i> Ah! (<i>Discouraged.</i>) What do you say to + studying the Vine and Fig-tree angles and the capitals of the + arcades in the Ducal Palace? I will go and fetch the <i>Stones + of Venice</i>.</p> + + <p><i>Miss T.</i> I guess you can leave those old stones in + peace. I don't feel like studying up anything this + morning—it's as much as ever I can do not to scream + aloud!</p> + + <p><i>Culch.</i> Then shall we just drift about in a gondola + all the morning, and—er—perhaps do the Academy + later?</p> + + <p><i>Miss T.</i> Not any canals in this hot sun for me! I'd be + just as <i>sick</i>! That gondola will keep till it's + cooler.</p> + + <p><i>Culch.</i> (<i>losing patience</i>). Then I must really + leave it to you to make a suggestion!</p> + + <p><i>Miss T.</i> Well, I believe I'll have a good look round + the curiosity stores. There's ever such a cunning little shop + back of the Clock Tower on the Pi-azza, where I saw some + brocades that were just too sweet! So I'll take Poppa along + bargain-hunting. Don't <i>you</i> come if you'd rather poke + around your old churches and things!</p> + + <p><i>Culch.</i> I don't feel disposed to—er—"poke + around" alone; so, if you will allow me to accompany + you,—</p> + + <p><i>Miss T.</i> Oh, I'll allow you to escort me. It's handy + having someone around to carry parcels. And Poppa's bound to + drop the balance every time!</p> + + <p><i>Culch.</i> (<i>to himself</i>). That's all I am to her. A + beast of burden! And a whole precious morning squandered on + this confounded shopping—when I might have been—ah, + well! [<i>Follows, under protest.</i></p> + + <p><i>On the Grand Canal. 9 P.M. A brilliant moonlight night; a + music-barge, hung with coloured lanterns, is moving slowly up + towards the Rialto, surrounded and followed by a fleet of + gondolas, amongst which is one containing the</i> TROTTERS + <i>and</i> CULCHARD. CULCHARD <i>has just discovered—with + an embarrassment not wholly devoid of a certain + excitement—that they are drawing up to a gondola occupied + by the</i> PRENDERGASTS <i>and</i> PODBURY.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Trotter</i> (<i>meditatively</i>). It's real + romantic. That's the third deceased kitten I've seen to-night. + They haven't only a two-foot tide in the Adriatic, and it + stands to reason all the sewage—</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>The two gondolas are jammed close alongside.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Miss P.</i> How absolutely magical those palaces look in + the moonlight! BOB, how <i>can</i> you yawn like that?</p> + + <p><i>Bob</i>. I beg your pardon, 'PATIA, really, but we've had + rather a long day of it, you know!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. T.</i> Well, now, I declare I sort of recognised + those voices! (<i>Heartily.</i>) Why, how are <i>you</i> + getting along in Vernis? <i>We</i>'re gettin' along fust-rate. + Say, MAUD, here's your friend alongside!</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[Miss P. <i>preserves a stony silence.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Miss T.</i> (<i>in an undertone</i>). I don't see how you + <i>can</i> act so, Poppa—when you know she's just as + <i>mad</i> with me!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. T.</i> There! Electrocuted if I didn't clean forget + you were out! But, see here, now—why cann't we let + bygones be bygones?</p> + + <p><i>Bob</i>. (<i>impulsively</i>). Just what <i>I</i> think, + Mr. TROTTER, and I'm sure my sister will—</p> + + <p><i>Miss P.</i> BOB, will you kindly not make the situation + more awkward than it is? If I desired a reconciliation, I think + I am quite capable of saying so!</p> + + <p><i>Miss T.</i> (<i>in confidence to the Moon</i>). This Ark + isn't proposing to send out any old dove, either—we've no + use for an olive-branch. (<i>To</i> Mr. T.) That's "<i>Santa + Lucia</i>" they're singing now, Poppa.</p> + + <p><i>Mr. T.</i> They don't appear to me to get the twist on it + they did at Bellagio!</p> + + <p><i>Miss T.</i> You mean that night CHARLEY took us out on + the Lake? <span class="pagenum"><a name="page12" + id="page12"></a>[pg 12]</span> Poor CHARLEY! he'd just love + to be here—he's ever so much artistic feeling!</p> + + <p><i>Mr. T.</i> Well, I don't see why he couldn't have come + along if he'd wanted.</p> + + <p><i>Miss T.</i> (<i>with a glance at her neighbour</i>). I + presume he'd reasons enough. He's a vurry cautious man. Likely + he was afraid he'd get bitten.</p> + + <p><i>Miss P.</i> (<i>after a swift scrutiny of</i> Miss T.'s + <i>features</i>). Oh, BOB, remind me to get some more of that + mosquito stuff. I <i>should</i> so hate to be bitten—such + a <i>dreadful</i> disfigurement!</p> + + <p><i>Miss T.</i> (<i>to the Moon</i>). I declare if I don't + believe I can feel some creature trying to sting me now!</p> + + <p><i>Miss P.</i> Some people are hardly recognisable, BOB, and + they say the marks never <i>quite</i> disappear!</p> + + <p><i>Miss T.</i> Poppa, don't you wonder what CHARLEY's doing + just now? I'd like to know if he's found anyone yet to feel an + interest in the great Amurrcan Novel. It's curious how + interested people do get in that novel, considering it's none + of it written, and never will be. I guess sometimes he makes + them believe he means something by it. They don't understand + it's only CHARLEY's way!</p> + + <p><i>Miss P.</i> The crush isn't quite so bad now. Mr. + PODBURY, if you will kindly ask your friend not to hold on to + our gondola, we should probably be better able to turn. + (CULCHARD, <i>who had fondly imagined himself undetected, takes + his hand away as if it were scorched.</i>) Now we can get away. + (<i>To</i> Gondolier.) Voltiamo, se vi piace, prestissimo!</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>The gondola turns and departs.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Miss T.</i> Well, I do just enjoy making PRENDERGAST girl + perfectly wild, and that's a fact. (<i>Reflectively.</i>) And + it's queer, but I like her ever so much all the time. Don't + <i>you</i> think that's too fonny of me, Mr. CULCHARD, now?</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[CULCHARD <i>feigns a poetic abstraction.</i></p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/12-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/12-1.png" + alt="OVER TIME IN LEAP YEAR." /></a> + + <h3>OVER TIME IN LEAP YEAR.</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>ONLY FANCY!</h2> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:15%;"> + <a href="images/12-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/12-2.png" + alt="Only Fancy!" /></a>Only Fancy! + </div> + + <p>We are supplied by our special reporter with some + interesting and significant facts in connection with the last + Cabinet Council. Lord SALISBUY arrived early, walking over from + the Foreign Office under cover of an umbrella. The fact that it + was raining may only partly account for this manoeuvre. Lord + CROSS arrived in a four-wheeled cab and wore his spectacles. + Lord KNUTSFORD approached the Treasury walking on the left hand + side of the road going westward, whilst Lord CRANBROOK + deliberately chose the pavement on the other side of the way. + This is regarded as indicating a coolness between the Colonial + Office and the Council of Education. Lord HALSBURY alighted + from a bus at the bottom of Downing Street, accomplishing the + rest of the journey on foot. He wore a new suit of the latest + fashionable cut and a smile. Mr. STANHOPE, approaching Downing + Street from the steps, started violently when he caught sight + of a figure on the steps of the Treasury fumbling with the + door-handle. He thought it was "VETUS," but recognising the + Home Secretary, advanced without further hesitation. Lord + GEORGE HAMILTON walked arm-in-arm as far as the door with Sir + M. HICKS-BEACH. Here they were observed to hastily relieve + themselves from contiguity and enter in single file. As they + had up to that moment been engaged in earnest conversation, + this little incident caused a sensation among the crowd looking + on. The new Chief Secretary was easily recognised as he + descended from his hansom with a sprig of shamrock in his coat + and another of shillelagh in his right hand. Whilst waiting for + change out of eighteenpence he softly whistled "<i>God Save + Ireland</i>." Mr. RITCHIE did not appear, pleading influenza. + Our reporter informs us that there is more behind, and that + before the Session is far advanced a change may be looked for + at the Local Government Board.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>A TRIAL IN NOVEL FORM.</h2> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE—<i>The Interior of Court during a + sensational trial. Bench, Bar, and Jury in a state of wild + excitement as to what will happen next.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Judge</i> (<i>mysteriously handing note to Bar engaged in + the case</i>). I have received this letter, which is deeply + interesting. It will form appropriately what I may call our + Third Volume. I hand it to Counsel, but they must keep it + entirely to themselves.</p> + + <p><i>First Leader</i> (<i>after perusal of document</i>). Did + you ever?</p> + + <p><i>Second Leader</i> (<i>ditto</i>). No I never!</p> + + <p><i>Judge</i> (<i>greatly gratified</i>). I thought I would + surprise you! Yes, it came this afternoon, and I found it too + startling to keep all to myself, so I have revealed the secret, + on the condition you tell no one else.</p> + + <p><i>First Lead.</i> You may rely on the discretion of my + learned friend, my Lord.</p> + + <p><i>Second Lead.</i> My Lord, on the discretion of my learned + friend you may rely.</p> + + <p><i>Judge</i>. Thank you (<i>dipping his pen in the ink</i>), + and now we will go on with the case.</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>A Witness is called—he hides his face under a + cloak.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>First Leader</i> (<i>in examination-in-chief</i>). I + think you wish to preserve your incognito?</p> + + <p><i>Wit.</i> (<i>in sepulchral tones</i>). I do. But if his + Lordship desires it, I will write my name on a piece of paper + and pass it up.</p> + + <p><i>Judge</i>. Well, certainly, I think I ought to know + everything, and— (<i>Receives piece of paper disclosing + the information, and starts back in his chair astonished</i>). + Dear me! Good gracious! Dear me!</p> + + <p><i>First Lead.</i> I think I should mention that I have not + the faintest idea who this witness is, and only call him, + acting under instructions. (<i>To Witness.</i>) Do you know + anything about the matter in dispute?</p> + + <p><i>Witness</i> (<i>with a sepulchral laugh</i>). Ha! ha! ha! + Nothing. Your question is indeed a good joke. Nothing, I + repeat, absolutely nothing!</p> + + <p><i>First Lead.</i> (<i>annoyed</i>). Then you can sit + down.</p> + + <p><i>Second Lead.</i> (<i>sharply</i>). Pardon me—not + quite so fast! You say you know nothing about the matter in + dispute, and yet you come here!</p> + + <p><i>Witness</i> (<i>in a deeper voice than ever</i>). + Exactly.</p> + + <p><i>Second Lead.</i> But why, my dear Sir—Why? What is + the point of it? Who may you be?</p> + + <p><i>Witness</i>. It is not <i>may</i> be—but who I + am!</p> + + <p><i>Second Lead.</i> Well, tell us who you are. + (<i>Persuasively.</i>) Come, who are you?</p> + + <p><i>Witness</i> (<i>throwing off his disguise</i>). Who am I? + Why, HAWKSHAW the Detective!</p> + + <p><i>Counsel Generally</i> (<i>to Judge</i>). Then, my Lord, + under the altered circumstances of the case, we can appear no + longer before you. (<i>With deep and touching emotion.</i>) We + retire from the case!</p> + + <p><i>Judge</i> (<i>not very appropriately</i>). Then if <i>Box + and Cox</i> are satisfied, all I can say is that I am. I may + add that I consider that the case has been conducted nobly, and + that I knew how it would end from the very first. I am + thoroughly satisfied.</p> + + <p><i>Jury</i>. And so are we, my Lord—never so + interested in our lives!</p> + + <p><i>Newspaper Editor</i> (<i>departing</i>). Ah, if we only + had a trial like this every day, we should require but one line + on the Contents Bill! (<i>Curtain.</i>)</p> + <hr /> + + <p>THE SAFEST NEW YEAR RESOLVE.—To make none.</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" /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume +102, Jan. 2, 1892, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 14199-h.htm or 14199-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/1/9/14199/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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