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diff --git a/old/14199.txt b/old/14199.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9aed206 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14199.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1636 @@ +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: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +PUNCH, + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 102. + + + +January 2, 1892. + + + + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: The Duke of Devonshire.] + +BORN, APRIL 27TH, 1808. DIED, DECEMBER 21ST, 1891. + + Learned, large-hearted, liberal Lord of Land, + As clear of head as generous of hand, + He lived his honourable length of days, + A "Duke" whom doughtiest Democrat might praise. + "Leader" in truth, though not with gifts of tongue, + Full many a "Friend of Man" the muse has sung + Unworthier than patrician CAVENDISH. + Seeing him pass who may forbear the wish, + Would more were like him!--Then the proud command, + "_Noblesse oblige_" e'en Mobs might understand! + + * * * * * + +AFTER DINNER--AT THE CLOSE OF THE YEAR. + + SCENE--_A Private Room in a well-known Dining Hotel. Eminent + Politicians discussing "shop" over their walnuts before + dispersing for the Christmas holidays._ + +_First Eminent Politician_. 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! + +_Second Em. Pol._ (_quickly_). 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? + +_First Em. Pol._ (_warmly_). 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! + +[Illustration] + +_Second Em. Pol._ (_carelessly_). Yes, I daresay. But what have +fireworks got to do with the Navy? + +_First Em. Pol._ 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. + +_Second Em. Pol._ Well, to go back to an old story--you can't defend +the bullying on board _The Britannia_. + +_First Em. Pol._ 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. + +_Second Em. Pol._ Well, they were down upon you pretty smartly. + +_First Em. Pol._ (_airily_). 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! + +_Third Em. Pol._ (_promptly_). 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. + +_Second Em. Pol._ 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. + +_Third Em. Pol._ 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-- + +_Fourth Em. Pol._ (_angrily_). What _are_ 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! + +_Second Em. Pol._ Well, matters have decidedly mended since +transportation was prohibited. But to return to our muttons. Waterloo +was won-- + +_Fourth Em. Pol._ (_interrupting_). Yes, I know, by the Militia and +the dregs of the population! By the way, though, the gaols have had +better company than now. + +_Fifth Em. Pol._ 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. (_With a sudden burst of anger_.) And if any of you doubt +my word, hang me, I will have satisfaction! (_Looking round for +opponents_.) Come now, who will tread on the tail of my coat! + +_Chief and Most Eminent Politician_. 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! + + [_The Party breaks up to meet later on in the neighbourhood of + Drury Lane._ + + * * * * * + +FROM OUR SPORTING CITY MAN.--"_Pounded before the Start_."--Mr. +GOSCHEN's One-pound Note scheme. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE CHIMES.] + +(FRAGMENTS OF A DICKENSIAN DREAM UP TO DATE.) + + * * * * * + +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. + +For this same dreadful paper re-directed _Punch's_ 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. + +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. + +"Unnatural and cruel, _Toby_!" 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!" + +The Chimes took up the words so suddenly--burst out so loud, clear, +and sonorous--that the Bells seemed to strike him in his chair. + +And what was it that they said? + +"_Punch_ and _Toby! Toby_ and _Punch_! Waiting for you, _Toby_ and +_Punch_! 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! _Punch, Toby; Toby, Punch; Toby, Punch; Punch, +Toby_!!" Then fiercely back to their impetuous strain again, and +ringing in the very bricks and plaster on the Sanctum's walls! + +_Toby_ barked! _Punch_ 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!" + +"If the tower is really open," said _Punch_, "what's to hinder us, +_Toby_, from going up to the steeple, and seeing for ourselves?" +"Nothing," yapped _Toby_, or sounds to that effect. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: 'ARRY OUT 'UNTIN'. + +_'Arry_ (_who goes to the Meet in a frost_). "'AVE THE 'OUNDS COME, +MY LADS?" + +_Little Girl_ (_respectfully_). "IF YOU PLEASE, SIR, _OUR_ 'OUNDS DON'T +'UNT IN 'ARD WEATHER!"] + + * * * * * + +Up, up, up! and round and round; and up, up, up! higher, higher, +higher up! + +There was the belfry where the ringers came. _Punch_ 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, _Punch_ and _Toby_, 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 _Punch_ 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. + +He listened, and then raised a wild "Halloa!" "Halloa!" was mournfully +protracted by the echoes. Giddy, confused, and out of breath, _Punch_ +looked about him vacantly, and sank down in a swoon. + + * * * * * + +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. + +_Wh-o-o-o-sh!_ 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 _you_!" murmured _Punch_, as _Toby_ barked at the flying +phantoms. + +But among the other swarming sprites, and circling elfs, and frolic +phantoms of the Bells, _Punch_ 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? _Punch_ 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! + + * * * * * + +_Bim, Bom, Boom!!! Clang, Cling, Clang_!!! What are those hands +tugging at the ropes, swinging the Bells big and little, evoking the +stormy clashes and soothing cadences of the Chimes? + +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 _Punch's_ ears:-- + +"Who hears in us, the Chimes, one note bespeaking disregard, or 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!" + +"Right you are!" cried _Punch_, cordially, _Toby_ yapping assent. + +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 _Trotty Veck_) leapt to his feet, and broke the +spell that bound him. + + * * * * * + +"Yes, that is still the true Spirit of the Chimes," mused _Mr. Punch_, +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, + +A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL OF YOU!!!" + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +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 _urbi et orbi_ 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 _Mr. Punch's_ Staff. The _St. James's Gazette_ has already +"authoritatively" denied the assertion; and this denial the Baron +for _Mr. Punch_, decisively confirms. Now, to the notice of the book +above-mentioned. Here it is:-- + +[Illustration] + +"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 _Peter Ibbetson_, 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 _Peter_, 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, _Peter +Ibbetson_ 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." + +The Baron recommends Mrs. OLIPHANT's _The Railway Man and his +Children_, 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 +_A Widower Indeed_. But ... wait till after the festivities are over +to read it, as the tale is sad." _En attendant_, A Happy New Year to +everyone, says + +THE BENIGN BARON DE BOOK-WORMS. + + * * * * * + +SIMPLE STORIES. + +"BE ALWAYS KIND TO ANIMALS WHEREVER YOU MAY BE!" + +FRANK AND THE FOX. + +FRANK was a very studious and clever little boy. + +[Illustration] + +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 "_The Bells go a-ringing +for Sarah_!" 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. + +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. + +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." + +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, + +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 _Say_-rah! _Say_-rah! _Say_-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. + +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. + +It sprang upon him! He was terrified! He dropped his song and his +concertina at the same moment, and scrambled up the nearest tree. + +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. + +When the coast was quite clear, FRANK descended, and slunk home. + +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. + +FRANK now has entirely ceased to believe in Ancient Mythology, and +has been even heard to hint that he considers Dr. LEMPRIERE a bit of +a humbug. + + * * * * * + +"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. + + * * * * * + +LETTERS TO ABSTRACTIONS. + +NO. IX.--TO CROOKEDNESS. + +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. + +[Illustration] + +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. + +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. + +There was at this time living in London an Italian artist, man +of letters and musical _virtuoso_, 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 _gaiete de coeur_, 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 _grande +passion_. 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +Yours, &c., DIOGENES ROBINSON. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: EXTRACT FROM THE CATALOGUE OF A RECENT SALE. + +"A PAIR OF OLD-FASHIONED SNUFFERS. VERY RARE."] + + * * * * * + +THE COMING OF NINETY-TWO. + +(_WITH HUMBLE APOLOGIES, AND HEARTY NEW-YEAR GREETINGS, TO THE +ILLUSTRIOUS AUTHOR OF "THE COMING OF ARTHUR."_) + + And PUNCHIUS ever served the good Old Year + Before his death-hour struck; and on the night + When he, on twelve's last stroke must pass away, + Room making for his heir, great PUNCHIUS-MERLIN + Left the Old King, and passing forth to breathe, + Then from the mystic gateway by the chasm + Descending through the wintry night--a night + In which the bounds of year and year were blent-- + Beheld, so high upon the wave-tost deep + It seemed in heaven, a light, the shape thereof + An angel winged, and all from head to feet + Bright with a shining radiance golden-rayed, + And gone as soon as seen; and PUNCHIUS knew + The oft-glimpsed face of Hope, the blue-eyed guest, + Avant-courier of Peace and of Good Will, + And herald of Good Tidings. Then the Sage + Dropt to the cave, and watched the great sea fall + Wave after wave, each mightier than the last. + Till last, a great one, gathering half the deep + And full of voices, slowly rose and plunged, + Roaring, and all the wave was in a flame. + And down the wave and in the flame, was borne + A naked Babe, and rode to PUNCH's feet, + Who stoopt, and caught the Babe, and cried "The Year! + Here is an heir for Ninety-One!" The fringe + Of that great breaker, sweeping up the strand + Lashed at the wizard as he spake the word, + And all at once all round him rose in light, + So that the Child and he were clothed in light, + And presently thereafter followed calm, + Loud bells, and song! + "And this same Child," PUNCH said, + "Twelve moons shall reign, nor will I part with him + Till these be told." And saying this the Sage, + The Modern MERLIN of the motley coat, + Wizard of Wit and Seer of Sunny Mirth, + Took up the wave-borne youngster in his arms, + His nurse, his champion, his Mentor wise, + And bare him shoreward out of wind and wet, + Into his sanctum, where choice fare was spread, + And cosy comfort ready to receive + Young Ninety-Two, and give him a "send-off" + Such as should strengthen and encourage him + To make fair start, and face those many moons + Of multiform vicissitude with pluck, + Good hope and patient pertinacity. + And when men sought the Modern MERLIN's ear + And asked him what these matters might portend, + The shining angel, and the naked Child + Descending in the glory of the seas, + He laughed, as is his wont, and answered them + In riddling triplets of old time, and said: + + "Peace and good-will! Croaking is all my eye! + A young man will be wiser by-and-by, + An old man's wit should ripen ere he die. + + "Patience and pluck! Fretting is fiddle-de-dee. + And youth has yet to learn to act and see, + And youth is well-advised that trusts to Me! + + "Hope and good cheer! This youngster's fate who knows? + Sun, rain, and frost will greet him ere life's close; + From the great dark to the great dark he goes." + + So MERLIN, riddling, answered them; but thou, + Fear not to face thy fate, O sea-born Child! + Young Ninety-Two! Great Bards of thee may sing + Hereafter; and great sayings from of old + Ranging and ringing thro' the minds of men, + Of Progress, and Improvement, and of Peace, + Of nobler Work, and a more ample Wage, + Of wider culture, and of worthier joys, + Larger attainments, and less coarse desires, + And gentler tastes; these shall be heard of youth. + And echo'd by old folk beside their fires, + For comfort after _their_ wage-work is done-- + No workhouse fires, but cosy fires of Home!-- + These thee shall greet, PUNCH-MERLIN, in thy time, + Shall voice them also, not in jest, and swear, + Though men may wound Truth, that she will not die, + But pass, again to come; and, then or now, + Utterly smite foul Falsehood underfoot, + Till, with PUNCH, all men hail her for their Queen! + + * * * * * + +CLIMATIC NOMENCLATURE FOR THE NEW YEAR. + +(_SUGGESTED BY RECENT DEVELOPMENTS OF THE BRITISH SEASONS._) + + Spring = The Clog Days. + Summer = The Dog Days. + Autumn = The Bog Days. + Winter = The Fog Days. + + * * * * * + +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 _ought_ to have said:--O "Freedom," what liberties are taken +(with common sense and good feeling) in thy name! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE COMING OF NINETY-TWO + +_TO THE MODERN MERLIN, MR. PUNCH._ + + "AND DOWN THE WAVE, AND IN THE FLAME WAS BORNE + A NAKED BABE, AND RODE TO PUNCH'S FEET, + WHO STOOPT, AND CAUGHT THE BABE, AND CRIED, 'THE YEAR! + HERE IS AN HEIR FOR NINETY-ONE!'"--_Adapted from Tennyson's "Coming + of Arthur."_] + + * * * * * + +TO JUSTICE. + +(_IN JANUARY._) + +[Illustration] + + Just take a look round, most respectable Madam; + New Year's Day is an excellent time for the task, + When serious thoughts come to each son of Adam + Who dares to peep under Convention's smug mask. + Your sword looks a little bit rusty and notched, Ma'am; + Your scales now and then hang a trifle askew; + A lot of your Ministers need to be watched, Ma'am! + _Punch_ isn't quite pleased with the prospect--are you? + If one could but take a wide survey, though summary, + Of _all_ the strange "sentences" passed in one year + By persons called "Justices"--(yes, it _sounds_ flummery) + Justice would look like Burlesque, Ma'am, I fear. + Excellent subject for whimsical GILBERT, + But not a nice spectacle, Madam, for me. + Long spell of "chokee" for prigging a--filbert + (Given, you bet, by some rural J.P.); + Easy let-off for a bogus "Promoter," + Helping the ruin of hundreds for gain; + Six months for stealing a turnip or "bloater," + Ditto for bashing a wife on the brain: + Sentences cut to one-twelfth on appealing, + Judges and juries at loggerheads quite! + Really each day brings some curious revealing, + Putting you, Ma'am, in a very strange light. + Take my advice, Ma'am, this bright New Year's morning, + Give a look up to your agents all round; + To some give the sack, and to others a warning; + The Public will back up your move, I'll be bound! + + * * * * * + +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, +'_Absit omen_'!" "'Scuse me!" replied his friend, who was all for the +new learning, "but I should say, '_Absit Homer_'!" + + * * * * * + +SEASONABLE (AND SUITABLE) GOOD WISHES. + + To a Card-player A Nappy } + To a Smart Girl A "Snappy" } + To a Flirt A "Chappy" } + To an Old Maid A Cappy } + To an Infant A Pappy } + To a Pigeon-shot A Trappy } + To an Explorer A Mappy } New Year to you! + To a Student A Sappy } + To a Cross Child A Slappy } + To an aspiring Pugilist A "Scrappy" } + To a Spiritualist A Tappy } + To a Toper A "Lappy" } + To _Toby_ A Yappy } + To a Snuff-taker A Rappee } + + * * * * * + +GIFTS FOR THE NEW YEAR. + +_H-r M-j-sty_.--The hearty congratulations of a loyal and united +people. + +_The Pr-nce and Pr-nc-ss_.--The most welcome of daughters-in-law. + +_Prince Alb-rt V-ct-r_.--MAY in February. + +_The Rest of the R-y-l F-m-ly_.--The best of wishes from everybody. + +_L-rd S-l-sb-ry_.--A General Election. + +_Mr. Arth-r B-lf-r_.--A Translation from the Irish. + +_Mr. J. Ch-mb-rl-n_.--Promotion. + +_Sir W-ll-m H-rc-rt_.--A Vision of the Woolsack. + +_The Cz-r of R-ss-a_.--A Vision of another sort of Sack. + +_The G-rm-n Emp-r-r_. New toys personally selected. + +_President C-rn-t_.--The compliments of the Marquis of DUFFERIN. + +_Herr Ibs-n_.--A tale without a plot. + +_Mr. R-dy-rd K-pl-ng_.--Quite another story. + +_The Corporation of L-v-rp-l_.--The Freedom of the Grand Old Man. + +_The Gr-nd Old M-n_.--The loss of the Corporation of Liverpool. + +_And Mr. P-nch_.--Tons of material (voluntarily contributed) for the +Grand Old Waste Paper Basket. + + * * * * * + +BOS V. BOSS. + +[Illustration: Bos Locutus Est!] + + [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."] + + O GENEROUS gents, who have the "cure of souls," + Learn hence that justice wins far more than doles. + Blankets and soup Dames Bountiful may give, + But what HODGE craves is a fair chance to live + On labour fairly paid, not casual boons. + SALISBURY's "Circuses," and smart buffoons, + Won't move him, by "amusement," from that wish. + Parties may mutually denounce or "dish;" + But what will win the Labourer for a friend + Is Home and Work, without the Workhouse end! + Listen! Those who heed not will bide the loss, + For _Bos locutus est,--against the_ "_Boss_"! + + * * * * * + +LAYS OF MODERN HOME. + +NO. I.--"MY HOUSEMAID!" + +[Illustration] + + Who, as our Dresden's wreck we scanned, + Protested, with assurance bland, + "It come to pieces in my 'and"? + My Housemaid. + + Who "tidies" things each Monday morn, + And hides--until, with search outworn, + I wish I never had been born? + My Housemaid. + + Who "turns" my study "out" that day, + And then contrives to pitch away + As "rubbish" (which it is) my Play? + My Housemaid. + + Who guards within her jealous care, + Mending or marking, till I swear, + The underclothes I long to wear? + My Housemaid. + + Who cultivates a habit most + Perverse, of running to "The Post" + To meet her brothers (_such_ a host!)? + My Housemaid. + + Who, _if_ she spends her "Sundays out" + At Chapel, as she does, no doubt, + Must be protractedly devout? + My Housemaid. + + Who takes my novels down (it must + Be, as she vows, of course, "to dust"), + And thumbs them, much to my disgust? + My Housemaid. + + Who "can't abide" a play or ball, + But dearly loves a Funeral, + Or Exeter's reproachless Hall? + My Housemaid. + + Who late returning thence, in fits + Of what she terms "Histories," sits,-- + _And this day month my service quits_? + My Housemaid. + + * * * * * + +QUITE CLEAR.--"_Aha! mon ami_," exclaimed our friend JULES, during the +recent murky weather in Town, "you ask me the difference between our +Paris and your London. _Tenez_, I will tell you. Paris is always _tres +gai, veritablement gai_; but London is _toujours faux gai_--you see it +is always fo-gay." And he meant "fog-gy." Well, he wasn't far wrong, +just now. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "COMING EVENTS CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE."] + + * * * * * + +THE TRAVELLING COMPANIONS. + +NO. XXI. + + SCENE--_The Steps of the Hotel Dandolo, about 11 A.M. PODBURY + is looking expectantly down the Grand Canal, CULCHARD is + leaning upon the balustrade._ + +_Podbury_. 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. (_A gondola +approaches, with Miss PRENDERGAST and BOB; PODBURY goes down the +steps to meet them._) How are you, Miss PRENDERGAST? Here I _am_, +you see. + +[Illustration: "I guess you want to Cologne _your_ cheeks!"] + +_Miss Prendergast_t (_ignoring C.'s salute_). How do you do, Mr. +PODBURY? Surely you don't propose to go out in a gondola in _that_ +hat! + +_Podb._ (_taking off a brown "pot-hat," and inspecting it_). It--it's +quite _decent_. It was new when I came away! + +_Bob_ (_who is surly this morning_). Hang it all, 'PATIA! Do you want +him to come out in a chimney-pot? Jump in, old fellow; never mind your +tile? + +_Podb._ (_apologetically_). 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? + +_Miss P._ Not now--it doesn't signify, for once. But around hat and a +gondola are really _too_ incongruous! + +_Podb._ Are they? A lot of the Venetians seem to wear 'em. (_He steps +in._) Now what are we going to do--just potter about? + +_Miss P._ One hardly comes to Venice to _potter_! 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. + +_Podb._ (_with a slight absence of heartiness_). Capital! +And--er--lunch at the Academy, I suppose? + +_Miss P._ There does not happen to be a restaurant there--we shall +see what time we have. I must say _I_ regard every minute of daylight +spent on food here as a sinful waste. + +_Bob_. Now just look here, 'PATIA, if you _are_ bossing this show, you +needn't go cutting us off our grub! What do _you_ say, JEM? + +_Podb._ (_desperately anxious to please_). Oh, I don't know that I +care about lunch myself--much. + + [_Their voices die away on the water._ + +_Culch._ (_musing_). She might have _bowed_ to me!... _She_ has +escaped the mosquitoes.... Ah, well, I doubt if she'll find those two +particularly sympathetic companions! Now I _should_ enjoy a day spent +in that way. Why shouldn't I, as it is? I daresay MAUD will-- + + [_Turns and sees Mr. TROTTER._ + +_Mr. T._ My darter will be along presently. She's Cologning her +cheeks--they've swelled up again some. I guess you want to Cologne +_your_ 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 _business_ city, Sir, and that's a fact. (_To Miss T. as she +appears._) Hello, MAUD, the ice-water cool down your face any? + +_Miss T._ Not _much_. 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 _you_, Mr. CULCHARD, and feel there's a pair +of us. Now what way do you propose we should endeavor to forget our +sufferings? + +_Culch._ Well, we might spend the morning in St. Mark's--? + +_Miss T._ The morning! Why, Poppa and I saw the entire show I inside +of ten minutes, before breakfast! + +_Culch._ Ah! (_Discouraged._) 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 _Stones of Venice_. + +_Miss T._ 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! + +_Culch._ Then shall we just drift about in a gondola all the morning, +and--er--perhaps do the Academy later? + +_Miss T._ Not any canals in this hot sun for me! I'd be just as +_sick_! That gondola will keep till it's cooler. + +_Culch._ (_losing patience_). Then I must really leave it to you to +make a suggestion! + +_Miss T._ 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 _you_ come if +you'd rather poke around your old churches and things! + +_Culch._ I don't feel disposed to--er--"poke around" alone; so, if you +will allow me to accompany you,-- + +_Miss T._ 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! + +_Culch._ (_to himself_). 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! [_Follows, under protest._ + +_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 TROTTERS and CULCHARD. CULCHARD has +just discovered--with an embarrassment not wholly devoid of a certain +excitement--that they are drawing up to a gondola occupied by the +PRENDERGASTS and PODBURY._ + +_Mr. Trotter_ (_meditatively_). 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-- + + [_The two gondolas are jammed close alongside._ + +_Miss P._ How absolutely magical those palaces look in the moonlight! +BOB, how _can_ you yawn like that? + +_Bob_. I beg your pardon, 'PATIA, really, but we've had rather a long +day of it, you know! + +_Mr. T._ Well, now, I declare I sort of recognised those voices! +(_Heartily._) Why, how are _you_ getting along in Vernis? _We_'re +gettin' along fust-rate. Say, MAUD, here's your friend alongside! + + [_Miss P. preserves a stony silence._ + +_Miss T._ (_in an undertone_). I don't see how you _can_ act so, +Poppa--when you know she's just as _mad_ with me! + +_Mr. T._ There! Electrocuted if I didn't clean forget you were out! +But, see here, now--why cann't we let bygones be bygones? + +_Bob_. (_impulsively_). Just what _I_ think, Mr. TROTTER, and I'm sure +my sister will-- + +_Miss P._ 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! + +_Miss T._ (_in confidence to the Moon_). This Ark isn't proposing to +send out any old dove, either--we've no use for an olive-branch. (_To_ +Mr. T.) That's "_Santa Lucia_" they're singing now, Poppa. + +_Mr. T._ They don't appear to me to get the twist on it they did at +Bellagio! + +_Miss T._ You mean that night CHARLEY took us out on the Lake? +Poor CHARLEY! he'd just love to be here--he's ever so much artistic +feeling! + +_Mr. T._ Well, I don't see why he couldn't have come along if he'd +wanted. + +_Miss T._ (_with a glance at her neighbour_). I presume he'd reasons +enough. He's a vurry cautious man. Likely he was afraid he'd get +bitten. + +_Miss P._ (_after a swift scrutiny of Miss T.'s features_). Oh, BOB, +remind me to get some more of that mosquito stuff. I _should_ so hate +to be bitten--such a _dreadful_ disfigurement! + +_Miss T._ (_to the Moon_). I declare if I don't believe I can feel +some creature trying to sting me now! + +_Miss P._ Some people are hardly recognisable, BOB, and they say the +marks never _quite_ disappear! + +_Miss T._ 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! + +_Miss P._ 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, _who had fondly imagined +himself undetected, takes his hand away as if it were scorched._) Now +we can get away. (_To Gondolier._) Voltiamo, se vi piace, prestissimo! + + [_The gondola turns and departs._ + +_Miss T._ Well, I do just enjoy making PRENDERGAST girl perfectly +wild, and that's a fact. (_Reflectively._) And it's queer, but I like +her ever so much all the time. Don't _you_ think that's too fonny of +me, Mr. CULCHARD, now? + + [_CULCHARD feigns a poetic abstraction._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: OVER TIME IN LEAP YEAR.] + + * * * * * + +ONLY FANCY! + +[Illustration: Only Fancy!] + +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 +"_God Save Ireland_." 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. + + * * * * * + +A TRIAL IN NOVEL FORM. + + SCENE--_The Interior of Court during a sensational trial. + Bench, Bar, and Jury in a state of wild excitement as to what + will happen next._ + +_Judge_ (_mysteriously handing note to Bar engaged in the case_). 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. + +_First Leader_ (_after perusal of document_). Did you ever? + +_Second Leader_ (_ditto_). No I never! + +_Judge_ (_greatly gratified_). 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. + +_First Lead._ You may rely on the discretion of my learned friend, my +Lord. + +_Second Lead._ My Lord, on the discretion of my learned friend you may +rely. + +_Judge_. Thank you (_dipping his pen in the ink_), and now we will go +on with the case. + + [_A Witness is called--he hides his face under a cloak._ + +_First Leader_ (_in examination-in-chief_). I think you wish to +preserve your incognito? + +_Wit._ (_in sepulchral tones_). I do. But if his Lordship desires it, +I will write my name on a piece of paper and pass it up. + +_Judge_. Well, certainly, I think I ought to know everything, and-- +(_Receives piece of paper disclosing the information, and starts back +in his chair astonished_). Dear me! Good gracious! Dear me! + +_First Lead._ I think I should mention that I have not the +faintest idea who this witness is, and only call him, acting under +instructions. (_To Witness._) Do you know anything about the matter in +dispute? + +_Witness_ (_with a sepulchral laugh_). Ha! ha! ha! Nothing. Your +question is indeed a good joke. Nothing, I repeat, absolutely nothing! + +_First Lead._ (_annoyed_). Then you can sit down. + +_Second Lead._ (_sharply_). Pardon me--not quite so fast! You say you +know nothing about the matter in dispute, and yet you come here! + +_Witness_ (_in a deeper voice than ever_). Exactly. + +_Second Lead._ But why, my dear Sir--Why? What is the point of it? Who +may you be? + +_Witness_. It is not _may_ be--but who I am! + +_Second Lead._ Well, tell us who you are. (_Persuasively._) Come, who +are you? + +_Witness_ (_throwing off his disguise_). Who am I? Why, HAWKSHAW the +Detective! + +_Counsel Generally_ (_to Judge_). Then, my Lord, under the altered +circumstances of the case, we can appear no longer before you. (_With +deep and touching emotion._) We retire from the case! + +_Judge_ (_not very appropriately_). Then if _Box and Cox_ 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. + +_Jury_. And so are we, my Lord--never so interested in our lives! + +_Newspaper Editor_ (_departing_). Ah, if we only had a trial like +this every day, we should require but one line on the Contents Bill! +(_Curtain._) + + * * * * * + +THE SAFEST NEW YEAR RESOLVE.--To make none. + + * * * * * + +NOTICE--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed +Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case +be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed +Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. 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