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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:44:22 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:44:22 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/14389-0.txt b/14389-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..883ddf8 --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1237 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14389 *** + +PUNCH, + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 102. + + + +March 26, 1892. + + + + +YE MODERATES OF LONDON! + +[Illustration: The Stay-at-Home Voter.] + + Ye Moderates of London + Who sat at home at ease, + Ah! little did you think upon + The dangerous C.C.'s! + While comfort did surround you, + You did not care to go + To remote + Spots to vote + When the stormy winds did blow. + + The voter should have courage + No danger he should shun; + In every kind of weather + All sorts of risks should run. + Not he! So bold Progressives + Will tax him, and he'll know + He must pay + In their way, + Which is neither sure nor slow. + + But when the Thames Embankment, + The finest road in town, + Is riotous with tramcars, + Will _that_ make rates come down? + Will all these free arrangements, + Free water, gas, do so? + Oh, they may! + Who can say? + And the Companies may go. + + When LIDGETT and McDOUGALL + Are censors of the play, + We can patronise the Drama + In a strictly proper way; + When PARKINSON's Inspector + Of Ballets, we shall know + He will stop + Any hop + If he sees a dancer's toe. + + Such grandmaternal rulers + Will settle life for us, + And Moderates, escaping + All canvassing and fuss, + Can still, from cosy firesides, + Through three long years or so, + Watch whereat + Jumps the cat, + And which way the wind does blow. + + * * * * * + +LOCKWOOD THE LECTURER. + + ["Last Tuesday Mr. FRANK LOCKWOOD, Q.C., M.P., delivered a + lecture entitled 'The Law and Lawyers of Pickwick,' to a large + gathering of the citizens of York, which place he represents + in Parliament."--_Daily Telegraph_.] + +AIR--"_Simon the Cellarer._" + + Oh, LOCKWOOD the Lecturer hath a rare store + Of jo-vi-a-li-tee + Of quips, and of cranks, with good stories galore, + For a cheery Q.C. is he! + A cheery Q.C. and M.P. + With pen and with pencil he never doth fail, + And every day he hath got a fresh tale. + "A Big-vig on Pig-vig," he quaintly did say, + When giving his lecture at York t'other day. + For Ho! ho! ho! + FRANK LOCKWOOD can show + How well he his DICKENS + Doth know, know, know! + _Chorus._--For Ho! ho! ho! &c. + + * * * * * + +HOSPITALITY À LA MODE. + + ["Programmes and introductions are going out of fashion at + balls."--_Weekly Paper_.] + + SCENE--_Interior of a Drawing-room during a dance. Sprightly + Damsel disengaged looking out for a partner. She addresses + cheerful-looking Middle-aged Gentleman, who is standing near + her._ + +_She._ I am not quite sure whether I gave you this waltz? + +_He._ Nor I. But I hope you did. I am afraid it is nearly over, but we + shall still have time for a turn. [_They join the dancers._ + +_She._ Too many people here to-night to make waltzing pleasant. + +_He._ Yes, it is rather crowded. Shall we sit out? + +_She_ (_thankfully, as he has not quite her step._) If you like. And + see, the band is bringing things to a conclusion. Don't you hate a + _cornet_ in so small a room as this? So dreadfully loud, you know. + +_He._ Quite. Yes, I think it would have been better to have kept to + the piano and the strings. + +_She._ But the place is prettily decorated. It must have cost them a + lot, getting all these flowers. + +_He._ I daresay. No doubt they managed it by contract. And lots of + things come from Algeria nowadays. You can get early vegetables in + winter for next to nothing. + +_She._ Yes, isn't it lovely? All these palms, I suppose, came from the + Stores. + +_He._ No doubt. By the way, do you know the people of the house at + all? + +_She._ Not much. Fact was, I was brought. Couldn't find either the + host or hostess. Such a crowd on the staircase, you know. + +_He._ Yes. Rather silly asking double the number of people the rooms + will hold, isn't it? + +_She._ Awfully. However, I suppose it pleases some folks. I presume + they consider it the swagger thing to do? + +_He._ I suppose they do. Do you know many people here? + +_She._ Not a soul, or-- + +_He._ You would not have spoken to me? + +_She._ Well, no--not exactly that. But-- + +_He._ You have no better excuse ready. Quite. + +_She._ How rude you are! You know I didn't quite mean that. + +_He._ No, not quite. Quite. + +_She._ By the way, do you know what time it is? + +_He._ Well, from the rooms getting less crowded, I fancy it must be + the supper hour. May I not take you down? + +_She._ You are most kind! But do you know the way? + +_He._ I think so. You see, I have learned the geography of the place + fairly well. + +_She._ How fortunate! But if I accept your kindness, I think I should + have the honour of knowing your name. + +_He._ Certainly; my name is SMITH. + +_She._ Any relation of the people who are giving the dance? + +_He._ Well, yes. I am giving the dance myself--or rather, my wife is. + +_She._ Oh, this is quite too delightful! For now you can tell me what + to avoid. + +_He._ Certainly; and I have the pleasure of speaking to--? + +_She._ You must ask my _chaperon_ for my name. You know, introductions + are not the fashion. + +_He._ And your _chaperon_ is--? + +_She._ Somewhere or other. In the meanwhile, if you will allow me? + +_He_ (_offering his arm_). Quite! + + [_Exeunt to supper._ + + * * * * * + +MR. PUNCH'S UP-TO-DATE POETRY FOR CHILDREN. + +NO. 1.--"LITTLE MISS MUFFIT." + +[Illustration] + + Little Miss MUFFIT + Reposed on a tuffet, + Consuming her curds and whey-- + She had dozens of dolls, + And some cash in Consols + Put by for a rainy day. + + But though calm and content + While she drew Three per Cent., + The Conversion unsettled her mien, + And she said, "Though they've thrown us + This Five-Shilling Bonus, + I cannot brook Two pounds fifteen!" + + Comes a Broker outsider-- + Who chanced to have spied her, + And "Options" and "Pools" he extols-- + When he pictures the profit + (Commission small off it), + She cheerfully sells her Consols. + + Then she starts operations + With fierce speculations + In Stocks of all manner and shape; + But whatever she chooses + Her "cover" she loses, + And sees it run off on the tape. + + So alas! for Miss MUFFIT-- + She now has to rough it, + And never gets jam with her tea; + While the Bucket-shop Dealer + Employs a four-wheeler, + Regardless of _L._ _S._ and _D._ + + * * * * * + +"THE FROGS" AT OXFORD. + + SCENE--_Parlour of Private House, Oxford._ TIME--_Quite + recently. Cook wishes to speak to her Mistress._ + +_Cook._ Please, 'm, I should like to go out this evening, 'm, which + it's to see them Frogs at the New Theayter. + +_Mistress._ But it's all Greek, and you won't understand it. + +_Cook._ O yes, 'm. I once saw the Performin' Fleas, and they was + French, I believe, leastways a Frenchman were showin' of 'em, and + I unnerstood all as was necessary. + + [_After this, of course she obtains permission._ + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Ram's Uncle (on the maternal side) has recently joined the +religious sect known as the Plymouth Brethren. This has greatly +distressed the good Lady. "If it had been anything else," she says, +"a Moravian Missionary, or a Christian Brother-in-law, I wouldn't +have minded. But to think that an Uncle of mine should have become +a Yarmouth Bloater is a little hard on a poor woman no longer in her +idolescence." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: WILFUL WILHELM. + +_An Imperial German Nursery Rhyme. (From the very latest Edition of +"Struwwelpeter.")_ + +_Wilful Wilhelm._ "TAKE THE NASTY _PUNCH_ AWAY! I WON'T HAVE ANY +_PUNCH_ TODAY!"] + + Young WILHELM was a wilful lad, + And lots of "cheek" young WILHELM had. + He deemed the world should hail with joy + A smart and self-sufficient boy, + And do as it by _him_ was told; + He _was_ so wise, he _was_ so bold. + If anyone dared stop his play, + He screamed out--"Take the wretch away! + Oh, take my enemy away! + I won't have any foes to-day!" + + His old adviser WILHELM swore + Was a pig-headed senile bore. + _He_ meant to try another tack, + So his Old Pilot got the sack. + Nay more, one day, in a fierce squall, + He smashed his picture on the wall; + Tore up the papers when they said + He was a little "off his head." + He yelled, in his despotic way, + "Not any Press for me," I say! + "Oh, take that nasty _Punch_ away + I won't have any _Punch_ to-day!" + + He deemed himself, and this was odd, + A sort of new Olympian god; + And when the wise, who watched his whim, + Sighed, "Have the gods demented him? + _Quem deus vult, et cetera_" he + Was just as mad as mad could be; + And, just like other angry boys, + Kicked over tables, smashed his toys, + And cried out, "Take the things away! + I'll have nought but new toys to-day!" + + "Prudence?" he yelled; "what do _I_ care?" + And here he kicked the old pet Bear + His sire and grandsire had so cherished, + Till the old policy had perished + With Wilful WILHELM, who preferred + The Eagles. With a pole he stirred + Big Bruin up. "Oh, _I_'ll surprise him! + And, if he growls, I'll 'pulverise' him." + Some thought that picking rows with Bruin + Meant folly, if it did not ruin; + But when they whispered words of warning, + Then Wilful WILHELM, counsel scorning, + Shrieked, "Take the nasty brute away! + I won't have any Bears to-day!" + + Now, WILHELM, do not be absurd, + But listen to a friendly word! + You are a clever boy, no doubt, + And very smart, and very stout, + Like young AUGUSTUS, dainty eater, + Whose story is in _Struwwelpeter_. + Did'st ever read those truthful stories, + Good Dr. HEINRICH HOFFMANN's glories, + Which round the world have travelled gaily, + By Nursery pets consulted daily? + If not, just get "Shock-headed PETER"; + Read of AUGUSTUS, the soup-eater, + And stuck-up "JOHNNY Head-in-Air," + Who came down "bump" all unaware. + And "Fidgety PHILIP." You'll confess them + Pointed,--and don't try to suppress them, + Like Princes, party-men and papers + Which can't admire _all_ your mad capers! + My Wilful WILHELM, you'll not win + By dint of mere despotic din; + By kicking everybody over + In whom a critic you discover, + Or shouting in your furious way, + "Oh, take the nasty _Punch_ away! + I won't have any _Punch_ to-day!" + + * * * * * + +WHAT THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF, MR. PUNCH, SAYS TO THE ARTISTS' +CORPS.--"Gentlemen, you would no doubt like a brush with the enemy, to +whom you will always show a full face. Any colourable pretence for +a skirmish won't suit your palette. You march with the colours, and, +like the oils, you will never run.' You all look perfect pictures, and +everybody must admire your well-knit frames. Gentlemen, I do not know +whether you will take my concluding observation as a compliment or +not, but I need hardly say that it is meant to be both truthful and +complimentary, and it is this, that though you are all Artists, you +look perfect models," + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: CONSCIENTIOUS. + +_Mr. Boozle_ (_soliloquises_). "MY MEDICAL MAN TOLD ME NEVER ON ANY +ACCOUNT TO MIX MY WINES. SO I'LL FINISH THE CHAMPAGNE FIRST, AND +_THEN_ TACKLE THE CLARET!"] + + * * * * * + +"BUTCHER'D TO MAKE--." + + [On Monday the 14th a "lion-tamer" was torn to pieces in a + show at Hednesford.] + + Shame to the callous French, who goad + The horse that pulls a heavy load! + Shame to the Spanish bull-fight! Shame + To those who make of death a game! + We English are a better race: + We love the long and solemn face; + We fly from any cheerful place,-- + On Sunday. + + But, other days, we like a show. + There may be danger, as we know; + We put the thought of that aside, + For noble sport is England's pride: + We'd advertise a railway trip, + To see a wretched tamer slip + And die beneath the lion's grip,-- + On Monday! + + * * * * * + +A REALLY EXCEPTIONALLY REMARKABLE AND NOTEWORTHY FACT.--_To-day, +Thursday, March_ 17.--Fine Spring weather. Have sat for over +half-an-hour at a window looking on to the street, between 3·30 and +4·15 P.M., _and have not once heard either the whole or any portion of +the now strangely popular "Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay!"_ ... As I write this +... ha!... The grocer's book!... "Boom-de-ay" without the "Ta-ra." +The spell is broken! N.B.--As this delightful song has now a certain +number of Music-"hall-marks," the places where it is sung can be +spotted and remembered as "Ta-ra's Halls." + + * * * * * + +TO THE YOUNG CITY-MEN. + +TO MAKE MUCH OF (LUNCHEON) TIME; OR, A COUNSEL TO CLERKS. (AFTER +HERRICK.) + + Gather ye fish-bones while ye may, + The luncheon hour is flying, + And this same cod, that's boiled to-day, + To-morrow may be frying. + + The handsome clock of ormolu + A quarter past is showing, + And soon 'twill be a quarter to, + When you must think of going. + + That man eats best who eats the first, + When fish and plates are warmer, + But being cold, the worse and worst + Fare still succeeds the former. + + Then be not coy, but use your lungs, + And while ye may, cry "_Waiter_!" + For having held just now your tongues, + You may repent it later. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: FANCY PORTRAIT. + +THE HUMBUG-HUNTING FERRET. (_VIVERRA LABOUCHERIENSIS_.) + +_The Times_ (_loq._). "AH! WONDERFUL INSTINCT, AND OCCASIONALLY +USEFUL. BUT I'M NOT PARTICULARLY PARTIAL TO HIM!"] + + * * * * * + +PONSCH, PRINCE OF OLLENDORF. + +(_M. MAETERLINCK'S VERY LAST MASTERPIECE._) + +The Belgian Master has tried, as he has already informed the world, +"to write SHAKSPEARE for a company of Marionnettes." Encouraged by +his extraordinary success, he has soared higher yet, and adapted +our greatest national drama for the purposes of the (Independent) +itinerant Stage. We are enabled by the courtesy of his publishers to +give a few specimen scenes from this _magnum opus_, which, as will +be seen, requires somewhat more elaborate mounting and mechanical +effects than are at present afforded by the ordinary Punch +Show. In M. MAETERLINCK's version, Ponsch becomes the Prince of +Half-seas-over-Holland; he is the victim of hereditary homicidal +mania, complicated by neurotic hysteria. Inflamed by the insinuations +of Mynheer Olenikke--a kind of Dutch Mephistopheles and Iago +combined--he is secretly jealous of his consort the Princess Jödi's +preference for the society of Djoë, the Court Jester and Society +Clown. Here is our first sample:-- + + _A Chamber in the Castle. Princess JÖDI discovered at a + window with DJOË._ + +_Jödi_. Lo! lo! a shower of stars is falling upon the fowl-house! + +_Djoë_. Oh! oh! a shower of stars upon the fowl-house? (_A water pipe +in the back-garden bursts suddenly and splashes them._) Ah! ah! I am +wet all over! Have you a pocket handkerchief? + +_Jödi_. Oh, look! a comet--an enormous one--has descended into the +water-butt! The sky is blood-red, and the moon has turned the colour +of green cheese. This bodes some disaster! + +_Djoë_. It is unsettled--rainy--unpleasant weather. Can you lend me an +umbrella? + +_Jödi_. I cannot lend you an umbrella, because I have lent mine to +the gardener's wife. Owls are roosting on the chimney-pots, and a +stickleback has jumped out of the pond. Hush, my Lord the Prince +approaches! + + [_Prince PONSCH enters, bearing a stout staff, which he nurses + gloomily, like an infant; a hurricane is heard in the middle + distance; the waterpipe sobs strangely and then expires; a + blackbeetle comes out of a cupboard and runs uneasily about, + until a flash of lightning enters down the chimney and kills + it. PONSCH stands glaring at DJOË and the Princess._ + +_Djoë_ (_hastily_). There is going to be a storm. Do not forget what I +have uttered. Good evening! + + [_He goes; the wind whistles a popular air through the + keyhole._ + +_Jödi_ (_nervously_). What an appalling evening! I have never seen the +like of such a sky. + +_Ponsch_. There is something about you this evening--how beautiful you +are looking! Bring BEBBI-PONSCH. + +_Jödi_ (_fetching the Infant Prince_). Here he is. Why do you look so +strangely at him? + +_Bebbi-Ponsch_ (_a small, but important part_). Is Pa-a-par poo-oorly? +Won't he p'ay wiz me no mo-ore? + +_Ponsch_. The soul of a little stage-child looms from under his green +eyes! OLENIKKE was right, and I-- No matter. I will open the window. + + [_Opens it, and throws BEBBI-P. out. Sound of water-splash + audible._ + +_Jödi_. Oh my! Oh my! What have you done? He has fallen right into the +moat--on one of the swans! + +_Ponsch_. Indeed--on one of the swans? (_A pot of mignonnette is blown +off the window-sill by a gust._) I will close the window. (_Closes it; +a hailstorm beats on the panes._) Is that really a hailstorm--or only +birds? + +_Jödi_. I can hear nothing. (P. _strikes her suddenly on the head +with staff._) Someone is knocking at my door. Come in! I cannot see +anything now. + +_Ponsch_. Can you, indeed, see nothing? [_He strikes her again._ + +_Jödi_. Now I can see stars. I feel as if purple mills were going +round in my head. I shall never kiss anybody any more. Oh! oh! oh! +[_She dies._ + +_Ponsch_. She was a beautiful woman, do you know? Oh, how lonely I +shall feel hereafter! (_A black dog is heard scratching and sniffing +outside the door._) It is only Tobbi. Someone has trod on your toe, +my poor Tobbi. Come in. Give me your paw. (_Tobbi enters, and flies +suddenly at his nose._) Oh, my nose is bleeding! Let us go to the +pond. I do not know why I feel so melancholy this evening. [_He goes +out, pursued by Tobbi._ + + SAMPLE No. II.--_A Hall in Castle Ollendorff. A Marionnette + Theatre at the back of Stage. DJOË, a Belgian Bedell, and + Dutch Dolls-in-waiting discovered._ + +_Djoë_. Green flames are running along the walls, and blue globes are +bounding about the back garden. I have never seen such a night. Here +comes the Prince. + + [_Enter PONSCH, conscience-stricken; all bow._ + +_Ponsch_. I am not melancholy, but I have hardly any hair. Let the +Play commence! + + _Curtain of Marionnette Show rises; a Clown is seen chasing + a butterfly._ + +_A Councillor_. Oh! oh! oh! [_Uproar; the Clown and Butterfly are +withdrawn. A Skeleton appears on the Stage, and dances his head and +limbs off in a blue light._ + +_Ponsch_ (_rising_). That was done purposely! You are driving at +something. Confess it! Is there no topic more cheerful? I cannot bear +it any longer! + + [_Knocks down DJOË with his staff. A combat, during which + DJOË several times obtains possession of the weapon, and + wounds PONSCH. N.B.--Note the striking resemblance here to + the similar, but very inferior, Scenes in "Hamlet."_ + +_The Dutch Dolls_ (_running about_). Both of them bleeding already! +There's blood on the walls already! Already blood on the walls! (&c.). + +_The Bedell_. The Prince has slain DJOË. Take him into custody. + + [_PONSCH strikes the Bedell down._ + +_The B._ Ha! ha! ha! (_Tries to rise--but is struck again_). Ha! ha! +(_PONSCH strikes once more._) Ha! + + [_The Bedell dies; a draught enters under the door and + blows out two of the candles; a thunderbolt is heard coming + down-stairs, and the Ghost of JÖDI suddenly appears from + behind a tapestry representing "The Finding of Moses."_ + +_Ponsch_ (_to Ghost_). Have you any hearse-plumes at hand? Do not be +angry with me. Can you hear my teeth? I am only a poor little old man. +Will you please undo my necktie? (_cf. "King Lear"_). Let us go to +breakfast. Will there be muffins for breakfast? + + [_Exit, leaning heavily on Ghost's arm._ + +_The Dutch Dolls_ (_with conviction_). One more such night as this, +and all our heads would have gone bald! + + SAMPLE No. III.--_The Courtyard with a scaffold and gibbet. + A blood-red moon is sailing amid the currant-bushes, and a + shower of stars proceeds uninterruptedly. PONSCH discovered + looking through the fatal noose._ + +_Djakketch_ (_the Court Executioner_). Can you see anything through +the loop? + +_Ponsch_. Not yet. I cannot see the audience anywhere. + +_Djak._ No; we are probably above the heads of the audience. But can't +you distinguish Mr. WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE? + +_Ponsch_. Wait one moment. No, I cannot see Mr. SHAKSPEARE anywhere. + +_Djak._ Because he has had to take a back seat. Look again. Can you +see nothing? + +_Ponsch_. I can make out an omnibus in the street. It is green. + +_Djak._ Ay, ay! A Bayswater 'bus. They _are_ green. But don't you see +any of the general public? + +_Ponsch_. I can see Mr. WILLIAM ARCHER, and some new Critics, and +unconventional Dramatists. They are following the text with books of +the Play. But there are no more errand-boys with baskets. + +_Djak._ This is wonderful. No more errand-boys with baskets? + +_Ponsch_. No more small children with babies! + +_Djak._ No more small children? Do pray let _me_ look. (_PONSCH +retires, and DJAKKETCH puts his head through the loop._) Oh, I can +see plainly now. There is not a single spectator left. They have all +been bored to death! + +_Ponsch_. All bored to death? Now then, lift your head a little, and I +will fondle you. [_Pulls the cord towards himself._ + +_Djak._ Oh, what have you put round my neck? Oh me! You are going to +... oh, you _are_! + +_Ponsch_. Oh, I _am_! + +_Djak._ Then--oh! + +_Ponsch_. Oh! + + [_Exeunt all, except DJAKKETCH, who ceases kicking + gradually. A peacock is heard warbling in a cemetery round the + corner; a barn-door fowl jumps on a wheelbarrow, and crows._ + +FINIS. + + * * * * * + +HORACE IN LONDON. + +TO A CRUSTED OLD PORT. (_AD AMPHORAM_.) + +[Illustration] + + Old liquor born on my birthday, a twin to me, + Whether ordained wit and mirth to put into me, + Or passions that witch and defy us, + Or, peradventure, the sleep of the pious. + + Vaunt not its shippers, my friend, but produce it--an + Actual, "forty-five," languorous Lusitan, + Befitting, whate'er be its label, + You, my good host, and the guest at your table. + + Steeped though you frown in this dryasdust clever age, + Dare you presume to resist such a beverage? + Why, ELDON, that dragon of virtue, + Never imagined its vintage could hurt you. + + Liquor like this from a bottle whose crust is whole, + Liquor like this rubs the rust from the rusty soul; + The faddist it mellows: the private + Secrets of State it can somehow arrive at. + + Under its spell frolics Hypochondriasis; + Poverty learns what a millionnaire's bias is, + Yes, Poverty, such a spell under, + Laughs at the County Court's impotent thunder. + + Fill, then! A bumper we'll empty between us to + Bacchus, the _Pas-de-trois_ Graces, and Venus too, + With all of that classical ilk, man-- + Till the stars fade with the morn and the milkman. + + * * * * * + +THE "TA-RA-RA" BOOM. + +(_BY OUR OWN MELANCHOLY MUSER._) + + I am shrouded in impenetrable _gloom_-de-ay, + For I feel I'm being driven to my _doom_-de-ay, + By an aggravating ditty + Which I don't consider witty; + And they call the horrid thing, "Ta-ra-ra-_boom-de-ay_!" + + Every 'bus-conductor, errand-boy, and _groom_-de-ay, + City clerk, and cheeky crossing-sweep with _broom_-de-ay + Makes my nervous system bristle + As he tries to sing or whistle + That atrocious and absurd "Ta-ra-ra-_boom_-de-ay!" + + So I sit in the seclusion of my _room_-de-ay, + And deny myself to all--no matter _whom_-de-ay-- + For I dread a creature coming + Whose involuntary humming + May assume the fatal form, "Ta-ra-ra-_boom_-de-ay!" + + Oh, I fear that when the Summer roses _bloom_-de-ay, + You will read upon a well-appointed _tomb_-de ay:-- + "Influenza never lick'd him, + But he fell an easy victim + To that universal scourge--'Ta-ra-ra-_boom_-de-ay!'" + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +One of the Baron's Assistant Readers has been reading a +really interesting, well written novel in two volumes, by MARY +BRADFORD-WHITING. It is called _Denis O'Neil_, and tells of the +adventures of a young Irish Doctor who gets entangled in the plots +of one of those Secret Societies that used to exist in "the most +distressful country that ever yet was seen," some twenty years ago. +The romance contains some clever sketches of character. The story +(published by BENTLEY) ends sadly, and those who want to find fault +with it will say it is too short. + +[Illustration: Our Competition Novel.--Competitors at Work.] + +The Leadenhall Press,--immortalised by its invention of that +invaluable work of art, "The Hairless Author's Paper Pad," which the +Baron herewith and hereby strongly recommends to Mr. GLADSTONE, who +has so much writing to do with a pad on his knee, and for this purpose +Mr. G. would find this the "_knee plus ultra_" of inventions,--this +same Leadenhall Press has recently published a story without a title, +offering a reward of £100 to any individual, or to be divided between +such individuals, as may guess it. The story is in effect about +a youth who lost his right eye in fighting another boy, and who +subsequently revenged himself by depriving his antagonist of an eye by +a violent stroke at Lawn-tennis. What can be the title? The Baron has +had the following suggestions made to him:--"Eye for an Eye," "The +Egotist," "My Eye!" "Aye! aye!" "Ocular Demonstration," "A Man of One +Eye-dear!" "Eyes Righted," "One Left," "The Other Eye," "Two Pupils +and One Eye," "You and Eye," "The Eyes Have It." The Baron "winks the +other eye," and will be very glad should any hint of his have assisted +a deserving person to gain the reward offered by Mr. TUER. _En +attendant_ the Baron has hit upon a still more novel idea. He will +write some contributions towards short stories, and his readers shall +finish them. The terms will be these:--The Baron commences a chapter, +or a few lines of it, and leaves it unfinished, then his readers shall +finish the sentence, and sometimes the chapter, for themselves. If the +sentence, or the chapter, as the case may be, _shall turn out to be +exactly what the Baron would have written had he continued it, then +he, the Baron, will award_ £100 _to the successful candidate, or will +award a division of that sum among the successful candidates. Every +competitor shall pay the Baron_ £50. _And to insure such payment, +each competitor's cheque for this amount must accompany his or her +contribution._ + +EXAMPLE.--_CHAPTER I.--The harvest-moon was slowly rising. The +heather, dried and burnt by the mid-day sun, appeared, to the eye +unaccustomed to this aspect of the country, to be merely a rugged +divergence from the main road. Descending carefully from his dog-cart, +a small man in a big coat, muffled up to the eyes, proceeded leisurely +to--_ + +Now, then, _what_ did he leisurely proceed to do? There's a fortune in +it!--somewhere!--says + +THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: STUDIES IN ANIMAL LIFE. + +THE GOORMONG. (_EPICURI DE GREGE PORCUS. BRITISH ISLES._) + +_Mr. Huggins._ "_WHAT_ A 'EAVENLY DINNER IT WAS!" + +_Mr. Buggins._ "B'LIEVE YER! MYKES YER WISH YER WAS BORN 'OLLER!"] + + * * * * * + +SPRING TIME IN LEAP YEAR; + +OR, THE JOLLY BATHERS. + +_First Jolly Bather_ (_singing, quaveringly_):-- + Spring's delights are now revi-i-i-vi-i-i-ng, + Verdant leaflets deck each spr-a-ay! + +_Second Jolly Bather_ (_impatiently_). _Don't_, ARTHUR, make that +row! B-r-r-r! (_Shivers._) Spring's _delights_, indeed! And as to +the "verdant leaflets" (unless you mean election squibs), where _are_ +they? + +_First Ditto._ Ah, "verdant leaflets" not a bad name for Financial +Reform tracts, _et id genus omne_. Touch of your old satirical +Saturday-Reviewish style there, Nunky! + +_Second Ditto_ (_hastily_). Oh, bother! What are we here for? + +_First Ditto_ (_coolly_). Why, to _bathe_, I presume. + +_Second Ditto._ Bah! One would think, ARTHUR, we belonged to that +society of lunatics who make a point of taking a matutinal plunge in +the Serpentine every morning, all the year round, _even if they have +to break the ice to do it_! Ineffable idiots! [_Curls up._ + +_First Ditto._ Well, we may as well put a good face on it, Uncle. + + [_Grimaces._ + +_Second Ditto_. Ah, yes, you can say so--at _your_ age, ARTHUR. I like +my morning tub in my bath-room--with the chill off. + + [_Wraps his towel round his neck._ + +_First Ditto_. (_Sings again, tremolo_):-- + Why linger shivering on the brink, + And fear to launch away? + +_Second Ditto_ (_sharply_). Why, you're at it again, ARTHUR! And a +Conventicler's hymn, too, this time. I'm a-a-shamed of you. + +_First Ditto_. Ah! that's what LABOUCHERE, O'KELLY, CONYBEARE, and +Company say! _I_ don't mind; in fact, as I told 'em, I rather like it. +Does me a world of good. + +_Second Ditto_ (_admiringly_). Ah! you _have_ got a nerve, ARTHUR. I +_will_ say that for you. Still, you've been giving them something to +"guy" you about lately, you know. + +_First Ditto_ (_sharply_). Ah! have I? Well, "I can assure you that +I am the last person in the world to object to a process from which I +have profited so much." + +_Second Ditto_. Oh, yes, that was all very well for them, over yonder. +In fact, I own it was rather neatly put. + +_First Ditto_ (_slily_). Didn't "lack finish," was sufficiently "_ad +unguem_," eh, Nunky? + +_Second Ditto_ (_moodily_). Ah! what do you youngsters know about +those fine old fighting days? I didn't love DIZZY, but he was a neat +hand with the foils, boy. + +_First Ditto_. Especially in a bout with a friend,--with the buttons +off. But I say, this isn't bathing, you know! + +_Second Ditto_. No. (_Eyeing the stream distastefully._) Hadn't +we better postpone the pleasure till a little later in the season, +ARTHUR. When those "Spring's delights" of which you melodiously +twangle are a leetle more _en évidence_. + +_First Ditto_ (_pipes_). Hawthorn buds give joyful tidings. + Welcome, youths, 'tis bright bath-day! + +_Second Ditto_. Ah! if we're here to do the Eclogue business, STREPHON +can take his turn, as well as CORYDON. [_Sings._ + Let us plunge into the ri-i-i-v-e-e-r! + Leave our vesture on the bank! + +_First Ditto_. Bless me, STREPHON, how you shi-i-v-e-e-r! + +_Second Ditto_. 'Tis like a fishmonger's tank! + +_First Ditto_. Pooh! 'tis lovely--when you're in it; + One bold header, and 'tis done! + +_Second Ditto_. Ah, quite so, but--wait a minute, + Till I've warmed me with a run. + That will stir my circulation; + For the moment I am "friz." + +_First Ditto_. _Magnifique!_ my dear relation; + But, you'll own, it is not "biz." + +_Both_. We must o-o-o-ow-n it is not "biz!" + +_Second Ditto_. Well, no, I suppose it isn't, ARTHUR. By the way, +what's that row behind there? + +_First Ditto_. (_looking_). By Jove! it's that Gladstone gang! They've +tracked us! (_Sings_)-- + They're after us! They're after us! + _We_'re the individuals they require. + +_Second Ditto_. (_sardonically_). What a lyric _répertoire_ you have, +ARTHUR! Old English glee, Puritan psalmody. Music-hall song, all come +equally well to you, it seems. But those roughs mean mischief, Nephew +mine! + +[Illustration: SPRING TIME IN LEAP YEAR. + +SALISBURY. "DON'T YOU THINK, NEPHEW ARTHUR, WE'D BETTER +_PLUNGE_--BEFORE WE'RE _PUSHED_?"] + +_First Ditto_. Doubtless! They always do. And they've done some +lately, drat them! I say, wouldn't they like _to shove us in_, as they +did the old witches, _to see if we can swim_? + +_Second Ditto_. By Jove! I shouldn't wonder if they tried. Don't you +think, ARTHUR, (_valiantly_) it would be better, more manly, and more +politic, perchance, _to plunge in than to be pushed_? + +_First Ditto_ (_drily_). Ah! just as the brave sheep-- + "Committed suicide to save themselves from slaughter." + +_Second Ditto_. Oh, hang your quotations! Happy omen! 'Tis Leap Year, +is it not? Just a leap; though, like DERBY's, it be "in the dark," +and--well, _we shall know where we are, anyhow!_ + +_First Ditto_. Ah, just so; and that's something! + + [_Left considering._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: TEMPTATION. + +_Hairdresser_. "ANY _BAY-RUM_, SIR?" + +_Middy_. "THANK YOU--A--NO! NOT QUITE so EARLY IN THE MORNING--YOU +KNOW!"] + + * * * * * + +"CLERK ME NO CLERKS." + + It seems Sir E.C., Q.C., likes + The blatant, brazen, Boothian band, + Admires "abstaining" zeal that strikes + The biggest drum with boldest hand. + He says, "You must not judge some others' case + By tastes much more refined," less commonplace. + + Yet, as Sir EDWARD disagrees + With those whose tastes he thus divined, + It's manifestly clear he sees + _His_ taste in music's not "refined." + 'Twas written long ago by CHAUCER's pen, + "The gretest clerkes ben not the wisest men." + + * * * * * + +"MY DEAR EYES! WHAT! SEE-USAN!" + +At the Prince of Wales's, Mr. ARTHUR ROBERTS, as _Captain Crosstree_, +is more ARTHUR ROBERTS than ever, and, consequently, immensely droll. +While he is on the stage, the audience is convulsed with spasmodic +laughter, excepting when he tries to forget himself and his drollery +in a loyal attempt at doing justice to Messrs. SIMS' AND PETTITT's +words, and to the serious business of some situation intended to be +dramatic. At such moments the laughter of the House is checked, a +sudden gloom comes over the faces that were but now on the broad grin, +even the lineaments of Mr. ROBERTS become agonised, and the audience, +like _Christopher Sly_ when bored by the Duke's players, mutter to +themselves, "would t'were done." But these painful seconds, which, at +the time, seem hours, are, we are glad to say, but brief and passing +shadows over Mr. ROBERTS' own quaint humour which speedily reasserts +itself, and, the Pettitt-and-Sims fetters being cast aside, the +People's ARTHUR is himself again, and more so than ever. And, when he +_is_ himself, he is simply the most absurd person that ever faced the +footlights. + +[Illustration: _Arthur Roberts_ (_to Arthur Williams_). "The boat's +getting along nicely, now we've got rid of some of the heavy cargo."] + +Miss NELLIE STEWART is a pretty singing, dancing, twisting, twirling +_Susan_. But what induced handsome Miss MARION BURTON, once so gay +and sprightly as _Cherubino_ in _Le Nozze di Figaro_, to essay this +musically dreary part of _William_, and, further, to wear a costume +about as unlike that of the nautical and traditional _William_ as can +well be imagined, is a puzzle to anyone who knows what she _has_ done +and _can_ do. Not a bit of dash in the character; all the good old +conventional British Tar taken right out of it. She can indeed say +with the fool in _The Yeomen of the Guard_, "I've got a song to sing, +oh!" for she has two or three, but her "voice is wasted on the desert +air," as they go for nothing, and therefore probably nobody else could +make them go for anything. + +Mr. ARTHUR WILLIAMS is funny, but his Variety Show scene, with +soliloquy and song, is too long; or rather, it would not be too long, +if the piece were only cut down to a two hours' entertainment. + +[Illustration: A Mug of Burton.] + +Let this "Comic Opera," for so is it described in the bills, be +cut down as ruthlessly, but not as blindly, as _William_ cut down +_Crosstree_; let something catching be substituted for most of the +music of the First Act,--specially omitting the "Why, certainly!" +interpolation, which is a feeble but evident imitation of Mr. W.S. +GILBERT's classic "What, never?" "Well, hardly ever;" let the music +of the Second Act be taken out by handfuls, and, if possible, let what +remains be replaced by something sparkling; then, with less of sweet +but sad _William_--for the present version of the part is quite +"BURTON's _Anatomy of Melancholy_,"--with less of fascinating but +squirming _Susan_, far less of minor characters generally, and more, +by comparison, of the two MACS--meaning the two ARTHURS with the +plural names ROBERTS and WILLIAMS,--also a telling song for Mr. +CHAUNCEY OLCOTT (whose singing now wins an _encore_ for an indifferent +ballad),--with the Captain's-giggy hornpipe of Mr. WILLIE WARD +retained, as also the graceful dancing of Miss KATIE SEYMOUR, and +then, omitting as much of the plot and authors' written dialogue as +can be conveniently spared,--very little of it would be missed,--there +is no rhyme or reason why _Blue-Eyed Susan_ should not run on as a +Variety Entertainment for any number of nights and days, during which +fresh material can be constantly substituted by Messrs. ROBERTS & Co. +of the Drollery Company, Unlimited, without racking the fertile brains +of Messrs. PETTITT AND SIMS. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE SALVATION HOUSE OF COMMONS. OUR PARLIAMENTARY +ARTIST'S DREAM, MARCH 10.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: ONE FOR HIM. + +_Major Spooneleigh_. "AND YOU RIDE SO WELL, AND--ER--YOU DRIVE +SO WONDERFULLY WELL, AND--ER--YOU DANCE SO--ER--BEAUTIFULLY, AND +YOU--ER--PLAY LAWN-TENNIS SO--ER--EXQUISITELY, AND--ER--OF COURSE YOU +FISH ALSO?" + +_Mrs. Dasher_. "NEVER FOR COMPLIMENTS, I ASSURE YOU; AND CERTAINLY NOT +IN SHALLOW WATERS!"] + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. + +[Illustration: Chief Secretary.] + +_House of Commons, Monday, March_ 14.--JACKSON turned up to-night +answering questions from Irish Members. This reminds us he's Irish +Secretary. Been so of course since Parliament met; but quite forgotten +it. Mention this to the SPEAKER who looked a little dull while Captain +PRICE was discoursing on Navy Affairs in Committee of Supply. So went +up to have a little chat with him in the Chair. + +"My dear TOBY," he said, "I don't know whether you meant it, but +you've paid JACKSON the highest compliment it is possible to convey. +When in these times the CHIEF SECRETARY so manages to conduct business +of his department that he himself is temporarily forgotten, he's doing +it surpassingly well. My big brother ROBERT was once Chief Secretary, +though perhaps you forget that also. He resigned because, as he said, +there was not enough work to keep an active man going. That was long +time ago. I daresay you had no chance of forgetting during the last +five years that Prince ARTHUR was Chief Secretary?" + +[Illustration: T.P. Gill.] + +Cannot claim to have invented the compliment the SPEAKER discerned; +merely mentioning matter of fact; but, as he says, when in these days +a Chief Secretary manages to get himself forgotten, the wheels at the +Irish Office must be going pretty smoothly. JACKSON has not brought +about this miraculous change by laying himself out to flatter or court +Irish Members. He is exactly the same as he was when he filled office +of Financial Secretary; doubtless the same as when he looked after his +tanyard in Yorkshire. Goes straight to the point in simple unaffected +business manner that ruffles no sensibilities. Fancy he could tan a +hide in such a way that it would not feel any resentment. + +A predecessor at the Irish Office who succeeded, in more troublesome +times, in living on peaceable terms with Irish Members, was +CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN. Irish Members, swift judges of character, taking +measure of both, came to conclusion nothing to be gained by rowing +round them. What killed FORSTER, and turned GEORGE TREVELYAN's hair +grey, made CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN smile--not an offensive smile, but one +of interested amusement. JACKSON's sense of humour not so keen, but +his imperturbability even more impregnable. If Irish Member trailed +his coat before him, JACKSON would say, "My dear fellow, won't you get +cold? Let me help you on with your coat." + +SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, a judge on this particular point, says the MARKISS +missed the greatest chance he has had for six months in not putting +JACKSON in place of OLD MORALITY. + +"Precious good thing for us, TOBY," says the SQUIRE, "that he didn't. +JACKSON the very model of a Leader of House, and Prince ARTHUR--well +he's Prince ARTHUR." + +"But I suppose you don't mean," I venture to ask, "that JACKSON is the +exclusive type of a successful Leader?" + +"No," says the SQUIRE, with a far-away look. + +_Business done._--Two Votes in Supply. + +_Tuesday._--Spent doleful afternoon in Committee of Supply. +Circumstances call upon Members below Gangway, Radicals or Irishmen, +to come to front, and make at least show of doing something. SAGE OF +QUEEN ANNE'S GATE pricks up his ears when Chairman puts question to +allow £6 7s. 11d. on account of Sheerness Police Court. Why should +Northampton contribute its quota, however small, to expenses of +Sheerness Police Court? Debate and Division; after which, the SAGE +retired to smoke cigarette through rest of afternoon, and discuss +probable date of Dissolution. + +[Illustration: The Storm in the Reform Club Tea-Cup.] + +Then Irish Members come on. Cream seems spooned off the mass in +preparation for festivities on St. Patrick's Day, and only the +skimmest of skim milk left. WEBB wobbles to the front; talks out vote +for Chicago Royal Committee, although ATTORNEY-GENERAL tells him it +will be all right as to Irish interests; being now close upon ten +minutes to seven, when Committee must adjourn, WEBSTER hasn't time +to make detailed explanations, but promises to do so on Report. WEBB +maunders on all the same, and Vote postponed. + +Great day for FLYNN. TIM HEALY thinks he's pretty smart as a debater; +SEXTON believes he knows a thing or two; O'BRIEN is understood to be +something of an orator. FLYNN will show House how all these qualities +may be combined in one man. Does it by the tiresome twenty minutes, +the lamentable half-hour; popping up on every question with comically +judicial air; talking on with fatal feeble flatulent fluency, whilst +GILL sits nursing his hat awaiting his turn. + +Alack for Irish humour, eloquence and deviltry, that it should come to +this! + +Whilst FLYNN once again turns on the tap of his tepid dish-water, news +comes that Lord HAMPDEN died this morning in far-off Pau. HAMPDEN was +the BRAND who sat in Chair during Parliament of 1874, and wrestled +nightly with the "bhoys" when they were in their prime--MAJOR +O'GORMAN rollicking through the night; JOSEPH GILLIS with lean hand +outstretched and his "It seems to me, MR. SPEAKER"; PARNELL in the +white heat of passion; DELAHUNTY with his One Pound Notes, and poor +MCCARTHY DOWNING with his scared look and his indescribable but +unmistakable air of one accustomed to frequent the best society in +Skibbereen. + +After a fourth speech from FLYNN, with another to follow from WEBB, +one almost envies the EX-SPEAKER lying at rest at the foot of the +Pyrenees. + +_Business done._--A few Votes in Supply. + +_Thursday._--St. Patrick's Day in the evening. Irish Members rose to +occasion; indeed, at one time O'KELLY and JOHN O'CONNOR rose together; +remained on their legs in defiance of Standing Orders and angry +protest of Chairman. Seemed as if someone must be suspended _pour +encourager les autres_. Storm suddenly stilled; rising passion subdued +by appearance of ALPHEUS CLEOPHAS on the scene, wanting to know about +the Refreshment-bar in the Lobby. which, he said, was lowering to the +dignity and respectability of House. + +_Friday_ 12·15 A.M.--All this in Committee of Supply, which came to +end at midnight. Then Report of Supply brought on; uproar renewed; +Vote for Irish Teachers' Pension Fund under discussion. Irish Members +mysteriously disappeared; SEXTON, understood to have ready prodigious +speech on the subject, nowhere to be found. "JOHN O'CONNOR," NOLAN +hoarsely whispered, "you have the longest legs in the Party; go and +look up the bhoys, and I'll talk." + +Silently but swiftly LONG JOHN stole forth on his mission; NOLAN +nobly performed his part. At end of forty minutes' breathless talk, +the Colonel, feeling his mouth growing parched, moved adjournment of +House. SPEAKER didn't recognise relevancy of argument; declined to put +the question. + +"The Hon. Member," he said, "has spoken for forty minutes, and not +given a single reason in favour of his proposal." + +"I was coming to that point," said NOLAN, "and, if it is quite in +order, I will now approach it." + +Ruled out of order. LONG JOHN, back from his foray, in course of which +had hunted up SEXTON, threw himself into breach; moved the adjournment +for irresistible reason. + +"I object," he said, "to this important subject being dealt with at +nearly one o'clock in the morning on St. Patrick's night." + +T.W. RUSSELL, condoled with his compatriots below Gangway on +difficulties of situation. "Certainly hard," he said, "that on St. +Patrick's night they should be called upon to discuss questions +involving facts and figures." BALFOUR opposed adjournment; CONYBEARE +strode in; commenced what promised to be long speech; Prince ARTHUR +moved Closure; carried by nearly a hundred majority. + +1·35 A.M.--House just back after division on question of adjournment; +Ministerialists in full muster and full of fight; 41 for adjournment, +121 against. As if nothing been said during previous hour-and-half, +ILLINGWORTH urges Prince ARTHUR to concede adjournment; PRINCE ARTHUR +rises to reply. Irish Members, pulling themselves together, walk +steadily out, amid ribald laughter from Ministerialists. Once more the +CURSE OF CAMBOURNE turns up. This seems, quite naturally, to suggest +the Closure; sort of automatic procedure; CONYBEARE--Closure. One more +division just to wind up, and at ten minutes past two Vote carried and +House up. + +_Business done._--Revival of old times. + +_Saturday_, 1·20 A.M.--House just up, after prolonged wrangle, +lasting, with interval for dinner, straight through from two o'clock +yesterday afternoon. Met then for Morning Sitting designed to make +progress with financial business. For four hours disputed how business +was to be arranged. This left one hour for doing it. Sitting suspended +at seven, resumed at nine. + +At it again talking about Royalties on Gold in Wales. Domestic +Policy in Zululand, the Irish Question in the Falkland Islands, and +Parliamentary Reporting. All this led gently up to passing Vote on +Account; a conclusion finally arrived at with the assistance of the +Closure. + +_Business done._--Vote on Account taken. + + * * * * * + +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. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume +102, March 26, 1892, by Various + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14389 *** diff --git a/14389-h/14389-h.htm b/14389-h/14389-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..767686d --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/14389-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1974 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> + + <title>Punch, March 26, 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;} + + 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;} + + .drama {margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .drama p {margin: 1em 0em 0em 0em;; padding-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em;} + .drama p.i8 {margin: 0; margin-left: 4em;} + .drama p.i10 {margin: 0; 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> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14389 ***</div> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 102.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>March 26, 1892.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page145" + id="page145"></a>[pg 145]</span> + + <h2>YE MODERATES OF LONDON!</h2> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/145-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/145-1.png" + alt="The Stay-at-Home Voter." /></a>The Stay-at-Home + Voter. + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Ye Moderates of London</p> + + <p class="i2">Who sat at home at ease,</p> + + <p>Ah! little did you think upon</p> + + <p class="i2">The dangerous C.C.'s!</p> + + <p>While comfort did surround you,</p> + + <p class="i2">You did not care to go</p> + + <p class="i8">To remote</p> + + <p class="i8">Spots to vote</p> + + <p>When the stormy winds did blow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The voter should have courage</p> + + <p class="i2">No danger he should shun;</p> + + <p>In every kind of weather</p> + + <p class="i2">All sorts of risks should run.</p> + + <p>Not he! So bold Progressives</p> + + <p class="i2">Will tax him, and he'll know</p> + + <p class="i8">He must pay</p> + + <p class="i8">In their way,</p> + + <p>Which is neither sure nor slow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But when the Thames Embankment,</p> + + <p class="i2">The finest road in town,</p> + + <p>Is riotous with tramcars,</p> + + <p class="i2">Will <i>that</i> make rates come + down?</p> + + <p>Will all these free arrangements,</p> + + <p class="i2">Free water, gas, do so?</p> + + <p class="i8">Oh, they may!</p> + + <p class="i8">Who can say?</p> + + <p>And the Companies may go.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>When LIDGETT and McDOUGALL</p> + + <p class="i2">Are censors of the play,</p> + + <p>We can patronise the Drama</p> + + <p class="i2">In a strictly proper way;</p> + + <p>When PARKINSON's Inspector</p> + + <p class="i2">Of Ballets, we shall know</p> + + <p class="i8">He will stop</p> + + <p class="i8">Any hop</p> + + <p>If he sees a dancer's toe.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Such grandmaternal rulers</p> + + <p class="i2">Will settle life for us,</p> + + <p>And Moderates, escaping</p> + + <p class="i2">All canvassing and fuss,</p> + + <p>Can still, from cosy firesides,</p> + + <p class="i2">Through three long years or so,</p> + + <p class="i8">Watch whereat</p> + + <p class="i8">Jumps the cat,</p> + + <p>And which way the wind does blow.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>LOCKWOOD THE LECTURER.</h3> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>["Last Tuesday Mr. FRANK LOCKWOOD, Q.C., M.P., delivered + a lecture entitled 'The Law and Lawyers of Pickwick,' to a + large gathering of the citizens of York, which place he + represents in Parliament."—<i>Daily + Telegraph</i>.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <center> + AIR—"<i>Simon the Cellarer.</i>" + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Oh, LOCKWOOD the Lecturer hath a rare store</p> + + <p class="i6">Of jo-vi-a-li-tee</p> + + <p>Of quips, and of cranks, with good stories + galore,</p> + + <p class="i6">For a cheery Q.C. is he!</p> + + <p class="i6">A cheery Q.C. and M.P.</p> + + <p>With pen and with pencil he never doth fail,</p> + + <p>And every day he hath got a fresh tale.</p> + + <p>"A Big-vig on Pig-vig," he quaintly did say,</p> + + <p>When giving his lecture at York t'other day.</p> + + <p class="i6">For Ho! ho! ho!</p> + + <p class="i6">FRANK LOCKWOOD can show</p> + + <p class="i6">How well he his DICKENS</p> + + <p class="i6">Doth know, know, know!</p> + + <p class="i10"><i>Chorus.</i>—For Ho! ho! ho! + &c.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>HOSPITALITY À LA MODE.</h2> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>["Programmes and introductions are going out of fashion + at balls."—<i>Weekly Paper</i>.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE—<i>Interior of a Drawing-room during a + dance.</i> Sprightly Damsel <i>disengaged looking out for a + partner. She addresses cheerful-looking</i> Middle-aged + Gentleman, <i>who is standing near her.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>She.</i> I am not quite sure whether I gave you + this waltz?</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Nor I. But I hope you did. I am afraid it + is nearly over, but we shall still have time for a + turn. [<i>They join the dancers.</i></p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Too many people here to-night to make + waltzing pleasant.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Yes, it is rather crowded. Shall we sit + out?</p> + + <p><i>She</i> (<i>thankfully, as he has not quite her + step.</i>) If you like. And see, the band is bringing + things to a conclusion. Don't you hate a <i>cornet</i> + in so small a room as this? So dreadfully loud, you + know.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Quite. Yes, I think it would have been + better to have kept to the piano and the strings.</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> But the place is prettily decorated. It + must have cost them a lot, getting all these + flowers.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> I daresay. No doubt they managed it by + contract. And lots of things come from Algeria + nowadays. You can get early vegetables in winter for + next to nothing.</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Yes, isn't it lovely? All these palms, I + suppose, came from the Stores.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> No doubt. By the way, do you know the + people of the house at all?</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Not much. Fact was, I was brought. + Couldn't find either the host or hostess. Such a crowd + on the staircase, you know.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Yes. Rather silly asking double the + number of people the rooms will hold, isn't it?</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Awfully. However, I suppose it pleases + some folks. I presume they consider it the swagger + thing to do?</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> I suppose they do. Do you know many + people here?</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Not a soul, or—</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> You would not have spoken to me?</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Well, no—not exactly that. + But—</p> + <p><i>He.</i> You have no better excuse ready. + Quite.</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> How rude you are! You know I didn't + quite mean that.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> No, not quite. Quite.</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> By the way, do you know what time it + is?</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Well, from the rooms getting less + crowded, I fancy it must be the supper hour. May I not + take you down?</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> You are most kind! But do you know the + way?</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> I think so. You see, I have learned the + geography of the place fairly well.</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> How fortunate! But if I accept your + kindness, I think I should have the honour of knowing + your name.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Certainly; my name is SMITH.</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Any relation of the people who are + giving the dance?</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Well, yes. I am giving the dance + myself—or rather, my wife is.</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Oh, this is quite too delightful! For + now you can tell me what to avoid.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Certainly; and I have the pleasure of + speaking to—?</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> You must ask my <i>chaperon</i> for my + name. You know, introductions are not the fashion.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> And your <i>chaperon</i> is—?</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Somewhere or other. In the meanwhile, if + you will allow me?</p> + + <p><i>He</i> (<i>offering his arm</i>). Quite!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Exeunt to supper.</i></p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <h2>MR. PUNCH'S UP-TO-DATE POETRY FOR CHILDREN.</h2> + + <h3>No. 1.—"LITTLE MISS MUFFIT."</h3> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/145-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/145-2.png" + alt="Little Miss Muffit." /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i4">Little Miss MUFFIT</p> + + <p class="i4">Reposed on a tuffet,</p> + + <p>Consuming her curds and whey—</p> + + <p class="i4">She had dozens of dolls,</p> + + <p class="i4">And some cash in Consols</p> + + <p>Put by for a rainy day.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i4">But though calm and content</p> + + <p class="i4">While she drew Three per Cent.,</p> + + <p>The Conversion unsettled her mien,</p> + + <p class="i4">And she said, "Though they've thrown + us</p> + + <p class="i4">This Five-Shilling Bonus,</p> + + <p>I cannot brook Two pounds fifteen!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i4">Comes a Broker outsider—</p> + + <p class="i4">Who chanced to have spied her,</p> + + <p>And "Options" and "Pools" he extols—</p> + + <p class="i4">When he pictures the profit</p> + + <p class="i4">(Commission small off it),</p> + + <p>She cheerfully sells her Consols.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i4">Then she starts operations</p> + + <p class="i4">With fierce speculations</p> + + <p>In Stocks of all manner and shape;</p> + + <p class="i4">But whatever she chooses</p> + + <p class="i4">Her "cover" she loses,</p> + + <p>And sees it run off on the tape.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i4">So alas! for Miss MUFFIT—</p> + + <p class="i4">She now has to rough it,</p> + + <p>And never gets jam with her tea;</p> + + <p class="i4">While the Bucket-shop Dealer</p> + + <p class="i4">Employs a four-wheeler,</p> + + <p>Regardless of <i>L.</i> <i>S.</i> and <i>D.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>"The Frogs" at Oxford.</h3> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE—<i>Parlour of Private House, Oxford.</i> + TIME—<i>Quite recently.</i> Cook <i>wishes to speak + to her</i> Mistress.</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Cook.</i> Please, 'm, I should like to go out + this evening, 'm, which it's to see them Frogs at the + New Theayter.</p> + + <p><i>Mistress.</i> But it's all Greek, and you won't + understand it.</p> + + <p><i>Cook.</i> O yes, 'm. I once saw the Performin' + Fleas, and they was French, I believe, leastways a + Frenchman were showin' of 'em, and I unnerstood all as + was necessary.</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>After this, of course she obtains + permission.</i></p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <p>Mrs. Ram's Uncle (on the maternal side) has recently joined + the religious sect known as the Plymouth Brethren. This has + greatly distressed the good Lady. "If it had been anything + else," she says, "a Moravian Missionary, or a Christian + Brother-in-law, I wouldn't have minded. But to think that an + Uncle of mine should have become a Yarmouth Bloater is a little + hard on a poor woman no longer in her idolescence."</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page146" + id="page146"></a>[pg 146]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/146.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/146.png" + alt="WILFUL WILHELM." /></a> + + <h3>WILFUL WILHELM.</h3><i>An Imperial German Nursery + Rhyme. (From the very latest Edition of + "Struwwelpeter.")</i><br /> + <i>Wilful Wilhelm.</i> "TAKE THE NASTY <i>PUNCH</i> AWAY! + I WON'T HAVE ANY <i>PUNCH</i> TODAY!" + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Young WILHELM was a wilful lad,</p> + + <p>And lots of "cheek" young WILHELM had.</p> + + <p>He deemed the world should hail with joy</p> + + <p>A smart and self-sufficient boy,</p> + + <p>And do as it by <i>him</i> was told;</p> + + <p>He <i>was</i> so wise, he <i>was</i> so bold.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page147" + id="page147"></a>[pg 147]</span> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>If anyone dared stop his play,</p> + + <p>He screamed out—"Take the wretch away!</p> + + <p>Oh, take my enemy away!</p> + + <p>I won't have any foes to-day!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>His old adviser WILHELM swore</p> + + <p>Was a pig-headed senile bore.</p> + + <p><i>He</i> meant to try another tack,</p> + + <p>So his Old Pilot got the sack.</p> + + <p>Nay more, one day, in a fierce squall,</p> + + <p>He smashed his picture on the wall;</p> + + <p>Tore up the papers when they said</p> + + <p>He was a little "off his head."</p> + + <p>He yelled, in his despotic way,</p> + + <p>"Not any Press for me," I say!</p> + + <p>"Oh, take that nasty <i>Punch</i> away</p> + + <p>I won't have any <i>Punch</i> to-day!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>He deemed himself, and this was odd,</p> + + <p>A sort of new Olympian god;</p> + + <p>And when the wise, who watched his whim,</p> + + <p>Sighed, "Have the gods demented him?</p> + + <p><i>Quem deus vult, et cetera</i>" he</p> + + <p>Was just as mad as mad could be;</p> + + <p>And, just like other angry boys,</p> + + <p>Kicked over tables, smashed his toys,</p> + + <p>And cried out, "Take the things away!</p> + + <p>I'll have nought but new toys to-day!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Prudence?" he yelled; "what do <i>I</i> care?"</p> + + <p>And here he kicked the old pet Bear</p> + + <p>His sire and grandsire had so cherished,</p> + + <p>Till the old policy had perished</p> + + <p>With Wilful WILHELM, who preferred</p> + + <p>The Eagles. With a pole he stirred</p> + + <p>Big Bruin up. "Oh, <i>I</i>'ll surprise him!</p> + + <p>And, if he growls, I'll 'pulverise' him."</p> + + <p>Some thought that picking rows with Bruin</p> + + <p>Meant folly, if it did not ruin;</p> + + <p>But when they whispered words of warning,</p> + + <p>Then Wilful WILHELM, counsel scorning,</p> + + <p>Shrieked, "Take the nasty brute away!</p> + + <p>I won't have any Bears to-day!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Now, WILHELM, do not be absurd,</p> + + <p>But listen to a friendly word!</p> + + <p>You are a clever boy, no doubt,</p> + + <p>And very smart, and very stout,</p> + + <p>Like young AUGUSTUS, dainty eater,</p> + + <p>Whose story is in <i>Struwwelpeter</i>.</p> + + <p>Did'st ever read those truthful stories,</p> + + <p>Good Dr. HEINRICH HOFFMANN's glories,</p> + + <p>Which round the world have travelled gaily,</p> + + <p>By Nursery pets consulted daily?</p> + + <p>If not, just get "Shock-headed PETER";</p> + + <p>Read of AUGUSTUS, the soup-eater,</p> + + <p>And stuck-up "JOHNNY Head-in-Air,"</p> + + <p>Who came down "bump" all unaware.</p> + + <p>And "Fidgety PHILIP." You'll confess them</p> + + <p>Pointed,—and don't try to suppress them,</p> + + <p>Like Princes, party-men and papers</p> + + <p>Which can't admire <i>all</i> your mad capers!</p> + + <p>My Wilful WILHELM, you'll not win</p> + + <p>By dint of mere despotic din;</p> + + <p>By kicking everybody over</p> + + <p>In whom a critic you discover,</p> + + <p>Or shouting in your furious way,</p> + + <p>"Oh, take the nasty <i>Punch</i> away!</p> + + <p>I won't have any <i>Punch</i> to-day!"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>WHAT THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF, MR. PUNCH, SAYS TO THE ARTISTS' + CORPS.—"Gentlemen, you would no doubt like a brush with + the enemy, to whom you will always show a full face. Any + colourable pretence for a skirmish won't suit your palette. You + march with the colours, and, like the oils, you will never + run.' You all look perfect pictures, and everybody must admire + your well-knit frames. Gentlemen, I do not know whether you + will take my concluding observation as a compliment or not, but + I need hardly say that it is meant to be both truthful and + complimentary, and it is this, that though you are all Artists, + you look perfect models,"</p> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:65%;"> + <a href="images/147.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/147.png" + alt="CONSCIENTIOUS." /></a> + + <h3>CONSCIENTIOUS.</h3> + + <p><i>Mr. Boozle</i> (<i>soliloquises</i>). "MY MEDICAL MAN + TOLD ME NEVER ON ANY ACCOUNT TO MIX MY WINES. SO I'LL + FINISH THE CHAMPAGNE FIRST, AND <i>THEN</i> TACKLE THE + CLARET!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>"BUTCHER'D TO MAKE—."</h3> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>[On Monday the 14th a "lion-tamer" was torn to pieces in + a show at Hednesford.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Shame to the callous French, who goad</p> + + <p>The horse that pulls a heavy load!</p> + + <p>Shame to the Spanish bull-fight! Shame</p> + + <p>To those who make of death a game!</p> + + <p>We English are a better race:</p> + + <p>We love the long and solemn face;</p> + + <p>We fly from any cheerful place,—</p> + + <p class="i10">On Sunday.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But, other days, we like a show.</p> + + <p>There may be danger, as we know;</p> + + <p>We put the thought of that aside,</p> + + <p>For noble sport is England's pride:</p> + + <p>We'd advertise a railway trip,</p> + + <p>To see a wretched tamer slip</p> + + <p>And die beneath the lion's grip,—</p> + + <p class="i10">On Monday!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>A REALLY EXCEPTIONALLY REMARKABLE AND NOTEWORTHY + FACT.—<i>To-day, Thursday, March</i> 17.—Fine + Spring weather. Have sat for over half-an-hour at a window + looking on to the street, between 3·30 and 4·15 P.M., <i>and + have not once heard either the whole or any portion of the now + strangely popular "Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay!"</i> ... As I write + this ... ha!... The grocer's book!... "Boom-de-ay" without the + "Ta-ra." The spell is broken! N.B.—As this delightful + song has now a certain number of Music-"hall-marks," the places + where it is sung can be spotted and remembered as "Ta-ra's + Halls."</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>TO THE YOUNG CITY-MEN.</h3> + + <h4>TO MAKE MUCH OF (LUNCHEON) TIME; OR, A COUNSEL TO CLERKS. + (AFTER HERRICK.)</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Gather ye fish-bones while ye may,</p> + + <p class="i2">The luncheon hour is flying,</p> + + <p>And this same cod, that's boiled to-day,</p> + + <p class="i2">To-morrow may be frying.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The handsome clock of ormolu</p> + + <p class="i2">A quarter past is showing,</p> + + <p>And soon 'twill be a quarter to,</p> + + <p class="i2">When you must think of going.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>That man eats best who eats the first,</p> + + <p class="i2">When fish and plates are warmer,</p> + + <p>But being cold, the worse and worst</p> + + <p class="i2">Fare still succeeds the former.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then be not coy, but use your lungs,</p> + + <p class="i2">And while ye may, cry + "<i>Waiter</i>!"</p> + + <p>For having held just now your tongues,</p> + + <p class="i2">You may repent it later.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page148" + id="page148"></a>[pg 148]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <h2>FANCY + PORTRAIT.</h2><a href="images/148.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/148.png" + alt="FANCY PORTRAIT." /></a> + + <h4>THE HUMBUG-HUNTING FERRET. (<i>VIVERRA + LABOUCHERIENSIS</i>.)</h4> + + <p><i>The Times</i> (<i>loq.</i>). "AH! WONDERFUL INSTINCT, + AND OCCASIONALLY USEFUL. BUT I'M NOT PARTICULARLY PARTIAL + TO HIM!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>PONSCH, PRINCE OF OLLENDORF.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>M. Maeterlinck's very last Masterpiece.</i>)</h4> + + <p>The Belgian Master has tried, as he has already informed the + world, "to write SHAKSPEARE for a company of Marionnettes." + Encouraged by his extraordinary success, he has soared higher + yet, and adapted our greatest national drama for the purposes + of the (Independent) itinerant Stage. We are enabled by the + courtesy of his publishers to give a few specimen scenes from + this <i>magnum opus</i>, which, as will be seen, requires + somewhat more elaborate mounting and mechanical effects than + are at present afforded by the ordinary Punch Show. In M. + MAETERLINCK's version, <i>Ponsch</i> becomes the Prince of + Half-seas-over-Holland; he is the victim of hereditary + homicidal mania, complicated by neurotic hysteria. Inflamed by + the insinuations of <i>Mynheer Olenikke</i>—a kind of + Dutch <i>Mephistopheles</i> and <i>Iago</i> combined—he + is secretly jealous of his consort the <i>Princess Jödi's</i> + preference for the society of <i>Djoë</i>, the Court Jester and + Society Clown. Here is our first sample:—</p> + + <blockquote> + <p><i>A Chamber in the Castle.</i> Princess JÖDI + <i>discovered at a window with</i> DJOË.</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Jödi</i>. Lo! lo! a shower of stars is falling + upon the fowl-house!</p> + + <p><i>Djoë</i>. Oh! oh! a shower of stars upon the + fowl-house? (<i>A water pipe in the back-garden bursts + suddenly and splashes them.</i>) Ah! ah! I am wet all + over! Have you a pocket handkerchief?</p> + + <p><i>Jödi</i>. Oh, look! a comet—an enormous + one—has descended into the water-butt! The sky is + blood-red, and the moon has turned the colour of green + cheese. This bodes some disaster!</p> + + <p><i>Djoë</i>. It is + unsettled—rainy—unpleasant weather. Can you + lend me an umbrella?</p> + + <p><i>Jödi</i>. I cannot lend you an umbrella, because + I have lent mine to the gardener's wife. Owls are + roosting on the chimney-pots, and a stickleback has + jumped out of the pond. Hush, my Lord the Prince + approaches!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[Prince PONSCH <i>enters, bearing a stout staff, which + he nurses gloomily, like an infant; a hurricane is heard in + the middle distance; the waterpipe sobs strangely and then + expires; a blackbeetle comes out of a cupboard and runs + uneasily about, until a flash of lightning enters down the + chimney and kills it.</i> PONSCH <i>stands glaring at</i> + DJOË <i>and the</i> Princess.</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Djoë</i> (<i>hastily</i>). There is going to be a + storm. Do not forget what I have uttered. Good + evening!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>He goes; the wind whistles a popular air through the + keyhole.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Jödi</i> (<i>nervously</i>). What an appalling + evening! I have never seen the like of such a sky.</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. There is something about you this + evening—how beautiful you are looking! Bring + BEBBI-PONSCH.</p> + + <p><i>Jödi</i> (<i>fetching the Infant Prince</i>). + Here he is. Why do you look so strangely at him?</p> + + <p><i>Bebbi-Ponsch</i> (<i>a small, but important + part</i>). Is Pa-a-par poo-oorly? Won't he p'ay wiz me + no mo-ore?</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. The soul of a little stage-child + looms from under his green eyes! OLENIKKE was right, + and I— No matter. I will open the window.</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Opens it, and throws</i> BEBBI-P. <i>out. Sound of + water-splash audible.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Jödi</i>. Oh my! Oh my! What have you done? He + has fallen right into the moat—on one of the + swans!</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. Indeed—on one of the swans? + (<i>A pot of mignonnette is blown off the window-sill + by a gust.</i>) I will close the window. (<i>Closes it; + a hailstorm beats on the panes.</i>) Is that really a + hailstorm—or only birds?</p> + + <p><i>Jödi</i>. I can hear nothing. (P. <i>strikes her + suddenly on the head with staff.</i>) Someone is + knocking at my door. Come in! I cannot see anything + now.</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. Can you, indeed, see nothing? [<i>He + strikes her again.</i></p> + + <p><i>Jödi</i>. Now I can see stars. I feel as if + purple mills were going round in my head. I shall never + kiss anybody any more. Oh! oh! oh! [<i>She + dies.</i></p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. She was a beautiful woman, do you + know? Oh, how lonely I shall feel hereafter! (<i>A + black dog is heard scratching and sniffing outside the + door.</i>) It is only Tobbi. Someone has trod on your + toe, my poor Tobbi. Come in. Give me your paw. + (<i>Tobbi enters, and flies suddenly at his nose.</i>) + Oh, my nose is bleeding! Let us go to the pond. I do + not know why I feel so melancholy this evening. [<i>He + goes out, pursued by Tobbi.</i></p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>SAMPLE No. II.—<i>A Hall in Castle Ollendorff. A + Marionnette Theatre at the back of Stage.</i> DJOË, + <i>a</i> Belgian Bedell, <i>and</i> Dutch Dolls-in-waiting + <i>discovered.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Djoë</i>. Green flames are running along the + walls, and blue globes are bounding about the back + garden. I have never seen such a night. Here comes the + Prince.</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Enter</i> PONSCH, <i>conscience-stricken; all + bow.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. I am not melancholy, but I have + hardly any hair. Let the Play commence!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p><i>Curtain of Marionnette Show rises; a</i> Clown <i>is + seen chasing a butterfly.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>A Councillor</i>. Oh! oh! oh! [<i>Uproar; the</i> + Clown and Butterfly <i>are withdrawn. A</i> Skeleton + <i>appears on the Stage, and dances his head and limbs + off in a blue light.</i></p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i> (<i>rising</i>). That was done + purposely! You are driving at something. Confess it! Is + there no topic more cheerful? I cannot bear it any + longer!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Knocks down</i> DJOË <i>with his staff. A combat, + during which</i> DJOË <i>several times obtains possession + of the weapon, and wounds</i> PONSCH. N.B.—<i>Note + the striking resemblance here to the similar, but very + inferior, Scenes in "Hamlet."</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>The Dutch Dolls</i> (<i>running about</i>). Both + of them bleeding already! There's blood on the walls + already! Already blood on the walls! (&c.).</p> + + <p><i>The Bedell</i>. The Prince has slain DJOË. Take + him into custody.</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[PONSCH <i>strikes the</i> Bedell <i>down.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>The B.</i> Ha! ha! ha! (<i>Tries to + rise—but is struck again</i>). Ha! ha! (PONSCH + <i>strikes once more.</i>) Ha!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>The</i> Bedell <i>dies; a draught enters under the + door and blows out two of the candles; a thunderbolt is + heard coming down-stairs, and the</i> Ghost of JÖDI + <i>suddenly appears from behind a tapestry representing + "The Finding of Moses."</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Ponsch</i> (<i>to</i> Ghost). Have you any + hearse-plumes at hand? Do not be angry with me. Can you + hear my teeth? I am only a poor little old man. Will + you please undo my necktie? (<i>cf.</i> "<i>King + Lear</i>"). Let us go to breakfast. Will there be + muffins for breakfast?</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Exit, leaning heavily on</i> Ghost's <i>arm.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>The Dutch Dolls</i> (<i>with conviction</i>). One + more such night as this, and all our heads would have + gone bald!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>SAMPLE No. III.—<i>The Courtyard with a scaffold + and gibbet. A blood-red moon is sailing amid the + currant-bushes, and a shower of stars proceeds + uninterruptedly.</i> PONSCH <i>discovered looking through + the fatal noose.</i></p> + </blockquote><span class="pagenum"><a name="page149" + id="page149"></a>[pg 149]</span> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Djakketch</i> (<i>the Court Executioner</i>). Can + you see anything through the loop?</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. Not yet. I cannot see the audience + anywhere.</p> + + <p><i>Djak.</i> No; we are probably above the heads of + the audience. But can't you distinguish Mr. WILLIAM + SHAKSPEARE?</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. Wait one moment. No, I cannot see Mr. + SHAKSPEARE anywhere.</p> + + <p><i>Djak.</i> Because he has had to take a back seat. + Look again. Can you see nothing?</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. I can make out an omnibus in the + street. It is green.</p> + + <p><i>Djak.</i> Ay, ay! A Bayswater 'bus. They + <i>are</i> green. But don't you see any of the general + public?</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. I can see Mr. WILLIAM ARCHER, and + some new Critics, and unconventional Dramatists. They + are following the text with books of the Play. But + there are no more errand-boys with baskets.</p> + + <p><i>Djak.</i> This is wonderful. No more errand-boys + with baskets?</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. No more small children with + babies!</p> + + <p><i>Djak.</i> No more small children? Do pray let + <i>me</i> look. (PONSCH <i>retires, and</i> DJAKKETCH + <i>puts his head through the loop</i>.) Oh, I can see + plainly now. There is not a single spectator left. They + have all been bored to death!</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. All bored to death? Now then, lift + your head a little, and I will fondle you. [<i>Pulls + the cord towards himself.</i></p> + + <p><i>Djak.</i> Oh, what have you put round my neck? Oh + me! You are going to ... oh, you <i>are</i>!</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. Oh, I <i>am</i>!</p> + + <p><i>Djak.</i> Then—oh!</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. Oh!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Exeunt all, except</i> DJAKKETCH, <i>who ceases + kicking gradually. A peacock is heard warbling in a + cemetery round the corner; a barn-door fowl jumps on a + wheelbarrow, and crows.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <center> + FINIS. + </center> + <hr /> + + <h2>HORACE IN LONDON.</h2> + + <h4>TO A CRUSTED OLD PORT. (<i>AD AMPHORAM</i>.)</h4> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/149-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/149-1.png" + alt="Horace in London." /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Old liquor born on my birthday, a twin to me,</p> + + <p>Whether ordained wit and mirth to put into me,</p> + + <p class="i2">Or passions that witch and defy us,</p> + + <p class="i4">Or, peradventure, the sleep of the + pious.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Vaunt not its shippers, my friend, but produce + it—an</p> + + <p>Actual, "forty-five," languorous Lusitan,</p> + + <p class="i2">Befitting, whate'er be its label,</p> + + <p class="i4">You, my good host, and the guest at your + table.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Steeped though you frown in this dryasdust clever + age,</p> + + <p>Dare you presume to resist such a beverage?</p> + + <p class="i2">Why, ELDON, that dragon of virtue,</p> + + <p class="i4">Never imagined its vintage could hurt + you.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Liquor like this from a bottle whose crust is + whole,</p> + + <p>Liquor like this rubs the rust from the rusty + soul;</p> + + <p class="i2">The faddist it mellows: the private</p> + + <p class="i4">Secrets of State it can somehow arrive + at.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Under its spell frolics Hypochondriasis;</p> + + <p>Poverty learns what a millionnaire's bias is,</p> + + <p class="i2">Yes, Poverty, such a spell under,</p> + + <p class="i4">Laughs at the County Court's impotent + thunder.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Fill, then! A bumper we'll empty between us to</p> + + <p>Bacchus, the <i>Pas-de-trois</i> Graces, and Venus + too,</p> + + <p class="i2">With all of that classical ilk, + man—</p> + + <p class="i4">Till the stars fade with the morn and the + milkman.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>THE "TA-RA-RA" BOOM.</h3> + + <h4>(<i>By Our Own Melancholy Muser.</i>)</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I am shrouded in impenetrable + <i>gloom</i>-de-ay,</p> + + <p>For I feel I'm being driven to my + <i>doom</i>-de-ay,</p> + + <p class="i4">By an aggravating ditty</p> + + <p class="i4">Which I don't consider witty;</p> + + <p>And they call the horrid thing, + "Ta-ra-ra-<i>boom-de-ay</i>!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Every 'bus-conductor, errand-boy, and + <i>groom</i>-de-ay,</p> + + <p>City clerk, and cheeky crossing-sweep with + <i>broom</i>-de-ay</p> + + <p class="i4">Makes my nervous system bristle</p> + + <p class="i4">As he tries to sing or whistle</p> + + <p>That atrocious and absurd + "Ta-ra-ra-<i>boom</i>-de-ay!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So I sit in the seclusion of my + <i>room</i>-de-ay,</p> + + <p>And deny myself to all—no matter + <i>whom</i>-de-ay—</p> + + <p class="i4">For I dread a creature coming</p> + + <p class="i4">Whose involuntary humming</p> + + <p>May assume the fatal form, + "Ta-ra-ra-<i>boom</i>-de-ay!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Oh, I fear that when the Summer roses + <i>bloom</i>-de-ay,</p> + + <p>You will read upon a well-appointed <i>tomb</i>-de + ay:—</p> + + <p class="i4">"Influenza never lick'd him,</p> + + <p class="i4">But he fell an easy victim</p> + + <p>To that universal + scourge—'Ta-ra-ra-<i>boom</i>-de-ay!'"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + + <p>One of the Baron's Assistant Readers has been reading a + really interesting, well written novel in two volumes, by MARY + BRADFORD-WHITING. It is called <i>Denis O'Neil</i>, and tells + of the adventures of a young Irish Doctor who gets entangled in + the plots of one of those Secret Societies that used to exist + in "the most distressful country that ever yet was seen," some + twenty years ago. The romance contains some clever sketches of + character. The story (published by BENTLEY) ends sadly, and + those who want to find fault with it will say it is too + short.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/149-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/149-2.png" + alt="Our Competition Novel.—Competitors at Work." /> + </a>Our Competition Novel.—Competitors at Work. + </div> + + <p>The Leadenhall Press,—immortalised by its invention of + that invaluable work of art, "The Hairless Author's Paper Pad," + which the Baron herewith and hereby strongly recommends to Mr. + GLADSTONE, who has so much writing to do with a pad on his + knee, and for this purpose Mr. G. would find this the "<i>knee + plus ultra</i>" of inventions,—this same Leadenhall Press + has recently published a story without a title, offering a + reward of £100 to any individual, or to be divided between such + individuals, as may guess it. The story is in effect about a + youth who lost his right eye in fighting another boy, and who + subsequently revenged himself by depriving his antagonist of an + eye by a violent stroke at Lawn-tennis. What can be the title? + The Baron has had the following suggestions made to + him:—"Eye for an Eye," "The Egotist," "My Eye!" "Aye! + aye!" "Ocular Demonstration," "A Man of One Eye-dear!" "Eyes + Righted," "One Left," "The Other Eye," "Two Pupils and One + Eye," "You and Eye," "The Eyes Have It." The Baron "winks the + other eye," and will be very glad should any hint of his have + assisted a deserving person to gain the reward offered by Mr. + TUER. <i>En attendant</i> the Baron has hit upon a still more + novel idea. He will write some contributions towards short + stories, and his readers shall finish them. The terms will be + these:—The Baron commences a chapter, or a few lines of + it, and leaves it unfinished, then his readers shall finish the + sentence, and sometimes the chapter, for themselves. If the + sentence, or the chapter, as the case may be, <i>shall turn out + to be exactly what the Baron would have written had he + continued it, then he, the Baron, will award</i> £100 <i>to the + successful candidate, or will award a division of that sum + among the successful candidates. Every competitor shall pay the + Baron</i> £50. <i>And to insure such payment, each competitor's + cheque for this amount must accompany his or her + contribution.</i></p> + + <p>EXAMPLE.—<i>CHAPTER I.—The harvest-moon was + slowly rising. The heather, dried and burnt by the mid-day sun, + appeared, to the eye unaccustomed to this aspect of the + country, to be merely a rugged divergence from the main road. + Descending carefully from his dog-cart, a small man in a big + coat, muffled up to the eyes, proceeded leisurely + to—</i></p> + + <p>Now, then, <i>what</i> did he leisurely proceed to do? + There's a fortune in it!—somewhere!—says</p> + + <p class="author">THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page150" + id="page150"></a>[pg 150]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/150.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/150.png" + alt="STUDIES IN ANIMAL LIFE." /></a> + + <h3>STUDIES IN ANIMAL LIFE.</h3> + + <h4>THE GOORMONG. (<i>Epicuri de Grege Porcus. British + Isles.</i>)</h4> + + <p><i>Mr. Huggins.</i> "<i>WHAT</i> A 'EAVENLY DINNER IT + WAS!"</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Buggins.</i> "B'LIEVE YER! MYKES YER WISH YER WAS + BORN 'OLLER!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>SPRING TIME IN LEAP YEAR;</h2> + + <h3>OR, THE JOLLY BATHERS.</h3> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>First Jolly Bather</i> (<i>singing, + quaveringly</i>):—</p> + + <p class="i8">Spring's delights are now + revi-i-i-vi-i-i-ng,</p> + + <p class="i10">Verdant leaflets deck each spr-a-ay!</p> + + <p><i>Second Jolly Bather</i> (<i>impatiently</i>). + <i>Don't</i>, ARTHUR, make that row! B-r-r-r! + (<i>Shivers.</i>) Spring's <i>delights</i>, indeed! And + as to the "verdant leaflets" (unless you mean election + squibs), where <i>are</i> they?</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto.</i> Ah, "verdant leaflets" not a bad + name for Financial Reform tracts, <i>et id genus + omne</i>. Touch of your old satirical + Saturday-Reviewish style there, Nunky!</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i> (<i>hastily</i>). Oh, bother! + What are we here for?</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i> (<i>coolly</i>). Why, to + <i>bathe</i>, I presume.</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto.</i> Bah! One would think, ARTHUR, + we belonged to that society of lunatics who make a + point of taking a matutinal plunge in the Serpentine + every morning, all the year round, <i>even if they have + to break the ice to do it</i>! Ineffable idiots! + [<i>Curls up.</i></p> + + <p><i>First Ditto.</i> Well, we may as well put a good + face on it, Uncle.</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Grimaces.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. Ah, yes, you can say + so—at <i>your</i> age, ARTHUR. I like my morning + tub in my bath-room—with the chill off.</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Wraps his towel round his neck.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. (<i>Sings again, + tremolo</i>):—</p> + + <p class="i8">Why linger shivering on the brink,</p> + + <p class="i10">And fear to launch away?</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i> (<i>sharply</i>). Why, you're at + it again, ARTHUR! And a Conventicler's hymn, too, this + time. I'm a-a-shamed of you.</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. Ah! that's what LABOUCHERE, + O'KELLY, CONYBEARE, and Company say! <i>I</i> don't + mind; in fact, as I told 'em, I rather like it. Does me + a world of good.</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i> (<i>admiringly</i>). Ah! you + <i>have</i> got a nerve, ARTHUR. I <i>will</i> say that + for you. Still, you've been giving them something to + "guy" you about lately, you know.</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i> (<i>sharply</i>). Ah! have I? + Well, "I can assure you that I am the last person in + the world to object to a process from which I have + profited so much."</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. Oh, yes, that was all very well + for them, over yonder. In fact, I own it was rather + neatly put.</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i> (<i>slily</i>). Didn't "lack + finish," was sufficiently "<i>ad unguem</i>," eh, + Nunky?</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i> (<i>moodily</i>). Ah! what do + you youngsters know about those fine old fighting days? + I didn't love DIZZY, but he was a neat hand with the + foils, boy.</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. Especially in a bout with a + friend,—with the buttons off. But I say, this + isn't bathing, you know!</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. No. (<i>Eyeing the stream + distastefully.</i>) Hadn't we better postpone the + pleasure till a little later in the season, ARTHUR. + When those "Spring's delights" of which you melodiously + twangle are a leetle more <i>en évidence</i>.</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i> (<i>pipes</i>). Hawthorn buds + give joyful tidings.</p> + + <p class="i8">Welcome, youths, 'tis bright + bath-day!</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. Ah! if we're here to do the + Eclogue business, STREPHON can take his turn, as well + as CORYDON. [<i>Sings.</i></p> + + <p class="i8">Let us plunge into the + ri-i-i-v-e-e-r!</p> + + <p class="i10">Leave our vesture on the bank!</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. Bless me, STREPHON, how you + shi-i-v-e-e-r!</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. 'Tis like a fishmonger's + tank!</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. Pooh! 'tis lovely—when + you're in it;</p> + + <p class="i8">One bold header, and 'tis done!</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. Ah, quite so, but—wait a + minute,</p> + + <p class="i10">Till I've warmed me with a run.</p> + + <p class="i8">That will stir my circulation;</p> + + <p class="i10">For the moment I am "friz."</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. <i>Magnifique!</i> my dear + relation;</p> + + <p class="i8">But, you'll own, it is not "biz."</p> + + <p><i>Both</i>. We must o-o-o-ow-n it is not "biz!"</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. Well, no, I suppose it isn't, + ARTHUR. By the way, what's that row behind there?</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. (<i>looking</i>). By Jove! it's + that Gladstone gang! They've tracked us! + (<i>Sings</i>)—</p> + + <p class="i8">They're after us! They're after us!</p> + + <p class="i10"><i>We</i>'re the individuals they + require.</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. (<i>sardonically</i>). What a + lyric <i>répertoire</i> you have, ARTHUR! Old English + glee, Puritan psalmody. Music-hall song, all come + equally well to you, it seems. But those roughs mean + mischief, Nephew mine!</p> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page151" + id="page151"></a>[pg 151]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/151.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/151.png" + alt="SPRING TIME IN LEAP YEAR." /></a> + + <h3>SPRING TIME IN LEAP YEAR.</h3>SALISBURY. "DON'T YOU + THINK, NEPHEW ARTHUR, WE'D BETTER + <i>PLUNGE</i>—BEFORE WE'RE <i>PUSHED</i>?" + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page153" + id="page153"></a>[pg 153]</span> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. Doubtless! They always do. And + they've done some lately, drat them! I say, wouldn't + they like <i>to shove us in</i>, as they did the old + witches, <i>to see if we can swim</i>?</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. By Jove! I shouldn't wonder if + they tried. Don't you think, ARTHUR, (<i>valiantly</i>) + it would be better, more manly, and more politic, + perchance, <i>to plunge in than to be pushed</i>?</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i> (<i>drily</i>). Ah! just as the + brave sheep—</p> + + <p class="i8">"Committed suicide to save themselves + from slaughter."</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. Oh, hang your quotations! Happy + omen! 'Tis Leap Year, is it not? Just a leap; though, + like DERBY's, it be "in the dark," and—well, + <i>we shall know where we are, anyhow!</i></p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. Ah, just so; and that's + something!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Left considering.</i></p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/153-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/153-1.png" + alt="TEMPTATION." /></a> + + <h3>TEMPTATION.</h3> + + <p><i>Hairdresser</i>. "ANY <i>BAY-RUM</i>, SIR?"</p> + + <p><i>Middy</i>. "THANK YOU—A—NO! NOT QUITE so + EARLY IN THE MORNING—YOU KNOW!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>"CLERK ME NO CLERKS."</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i4">It seems Sir E.C., Q.C., likes</p> + + <p class="i6">The blatant, brazen, Boothian band,</p> + + <p class="i4">Admires "abstaining" zeal that + strikes</p> + + <p class="i6">The biggest drum with boldest hand.</p> + + <p>He says, "You must not judge some others' case</p> + + <p>By tastes much more refined," less commonplace.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i4">Yet, as Sir EDWARD disagrees</p> + + <p class="i6">With those whose tastes he thus + divined,</p> + + <p class="i4">It's manifestly clear he sees</p> + + <p class="i6"><i>His</i> taste in music's not + "refined."</p> + + <p>'Twas written long ago by CHAUCER's pen,</p> + + <p>"The gretest clerkes ben not the wisest men."</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>"MY DEAR EYES! WHAT! SEE-USAN!"</h2> + + <p>At the Prince of Wales's, Mr. ARTHUR ROBERTS, as <i>Captain + Crosstree</i>, is more ARTHUR ROBERTS than ever, and, + consequently, immensely droll. While he is on the stage, the + audience is convulsed with spasmodic laughter, excepting when + he tries to forget himself and his drollery in a loyal attempt + at doing justice to Messrs. SIMS' AND PETTITT's words, and to + the serious business of some situation intended to be dramatic. + At such moments the laughter of the House is checked, a sudden + gloom comes over the faces that were but now on the broad grin, + even the lineaments of Mr. ROBERTS become agonised, and the + audience, like <i>Christopher Sly</i> when bored by the Duke's + players, mutter to themselves, "would t'were done." But these + painful seconds, which, at the time, seem hours, are, we are + glad to say, but brief and passing shadows over Mr. ROBERTS' + own quaint humour which speedily reasserts itself, and, the + Pettitt-and-Sims fetters being cast aside, the People's ARTHUR + is himself again, and more so than ever. And, when he <i>is</i> + himself, he is simply the most absurd person that ever faced + the footlights.</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/153-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/153-2.png" + alt="Arthur Roberts and Arthur Williams." /> + </a><i>Arthur Roberts</i> (<i>to Arthur Williams</i>). + "The boat's getting along nicely, now we've got rid of + some of the heavy cargo." + </div> + + <p>Miss NELLIE STEWART is a pretty singing, dancing, twisting, + twirling <i>Susan</i>. But what induced handsome Miss MARION + BURTON, once so gay and sprightly as <i>Cherubino</i> in <i>Le + Nozze di Figaro</i>, to essay this musically dreary part of + <i>William</i>, and, further, to wear a costume about as unlike + that of the nautical and traditional <i>William</i> as can well + be imagined, is a puzzle to anyone who knows what she + <i>has</i> done and <i>can</i> do. Not a bit of dash in the + character; all the good old conventional British Tar taken + right out of it. She can indeed say with the fool in <i>The + Yeomen of the Guard</i>, "I've got a song to sing, oh!" for she + has two or three, but her "voice is wasted on the desert air," + as they go for nothing, and therefore probably nobody else + could make them go for anything.</p> + + <p>Mr. ARTHUR WILLIAMS is funny, but his Variety Show scene, + with soliloquy and song, is too long; or rather, it would not + be too long, if the piece were only cut down to a two hours' + entertainment.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/153-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/153-3.png" + alt="A Mug of Burton." /></a>A Mug of Burton. + </div> + + <p>Let this "Comic Opera," for so is it described in the bills, + be cut down as ruthlessly, but not as blindly, as + <i>William</i> cut down <i>Crosstree</i>; let something + catching be substituted for most of the music of the First + Act,—specially omitting the "Why, certainly!" + interpolation, which is a feeble but evident imitation of Mr. + W.S. GILBERT's classic "What, never?" "Well, hardly ever;" let + the music of the Second Act be taken out by handfuls, and, if + possible, let what remains be replaced by something sparkling; + then, with less of sweet but sad <i>William</i>—for the + present version of the part is quite "BURTON's <i>Anatomy of + Melancholy</i>,"—with less of fascinating but squirming + <i>Susan</i>, far less of minor characters generally, and more, + by comparison, of the two MACS—meaning the two ARTHURS + with the plural names ROBERTS and WILLIAMS,—also a + telling song for Mr. CHAUNCEY OLCOTT (whose singing now wins an + <i>encore</i> for an indifferent ballad),—with the + Captain's-giggy hornpipe of Mr. WILLIE WARD retained, as also + the graceful dancing of Miss KATIE SEYMOUR, and then, omitting + as much of the plot and authors' written dialogue as can be + conveniently spared,—very little of it would be + missed,—there is no rhyme or reason why <i>Blue-Eyed + Susan</i> should not run on as a Variety Entertainment for any + number of nights and days, during which fresh material can be + constantly substituted by Messrs. ROBERTS & Co. of the + Drollery Company, Unlimited, without racking the fertile brains + of Messrs. PETTITT AND SIMS.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page154" + id="page154"></a>[pg 154]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/154.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/154.png" + alt="<h3>THE SALVATION HOUSE OF COMMONS. OUR PARLIAMENTARY ARTIST'S DREAM, MARCH 10." /> + </a> + + <h3>THE SALVATION HOUSE OF COMMONS. OUR PARLIAMENTARY + ARTIST'S DREAM, MARCH 10.</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page155" + id="page155"></a>[pg 155]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/155-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/155-1.png" + alt="ONE FOR HIM." /></a> + + <h3>ONE FOR HIM.</h3> + + <p><i>Major Spooneleigh</i>. "AND YOU RIDE SO WELL, + AND—ER—YOU DRIVE SO WONDERFULLY WELL, + AND—ER—YOU DANCE SO—ER—BEAUTIFULLY, + AND YOU—ER—PLAY LAWN-TENNIS + SO—ER—EXQUISITELY, AND—ER—OF COURSE + YOU FISH ALSO?"</p> + + <p><i>Mrs. Dasher</i>. "NEVER FOR COMPLIMENTS, I ASSURE + YOU; AND CERTAINLY NOT IN SHALLOW WATERS!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + + <h4>EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</h4> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:25%;"> + <a href="images/155-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/155-2.png" + alt="Chief Secretary." /></a>Chief Secretary. + </div> + + <p><i>House of Commons, Monday, March</i> 14.—JACKSON + turned up to-night answering questions from Irish Members. This + reminds us he's Irish Secretary. Been so of course since + Parliament met; but quite forgotten it. Mention this to the + SPEAKER who looked a little dull while Captain PRICE was + discoursing on Navy Affairs in Committee of Supply. So went up + to have a little chat with him in the Chair.</p> + + <p>"My dear TOBY," he said, "I don't know whether you meant it, + but you've paid JACKSON the highest compliment it is possible + to convey. When in these times the CHIEF SECRETARY so manages + to conduct business of his department that he himself is + temporarily forgotten, he's doing it surpassingly well. My big + brother ROBERT was once Chief Secretary, though perhaps you + forget that also. He resigned because, as he said, there was + not enough work to keep an active man going. That was long time + ago. I daresay you had no chance of forgetting during the last + five years that Prince ARTHUR was Chief Secretary?"</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:22%;"> + <a href="images/155-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/155-3.png" + alt="T.P. Gill." /></a>T.P. Gill. + </div> + + <p>Cannot claim to have invented the compliment the SPEAKER + discerned; merely mentioning matter of fact; but, as he says, + when in these days a Chief Secretary manages to get himself + forgotten, the wheels at the Irish Office must be going pretty + smoothly. JACKSON has not brought about this miraculous change + by laying himself out to flatter or court Irish Members. He is + exactly the same as he was when he filled office of Financial + Secretary; doubtless the same as when he looked after his + tanyard in Yorkshire. Goes straight to the point in simple + unaffected business manner that ruffles no sensibilities. Fancy + he could tan a hide in such a way that it would not feel any + resentment.</p> + + <p>A predecessor at the Irish Office who succeeded, in more + troublesome times, in living on peaceable terms with Irish + Members, was CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN. Irish Members, swift judges of + character, taking measure of both, came to conclusion nothing + to be gained by rowing round them. What killed FORSTER, and + turned GEORGE TREVELYAN's hair grey, made CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN + smile—not an offensive smile, but one of interested + amusement. JACKSON's sense of humour not so keen, but his + imperturbability even more impregnable. If Irish Member trailed + his coat before him, JACKSON would say, "My dear fellow, won't + you get cold? Let me help you on with your coat."</p> + + <p>SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, a judge on this particular point, says + the MARKISS missed the greatest chance he has had for six + months in not putting JACKSON in place of OLD MORALITY.</p> + + <p>"Precious good thing for us, TOBY," says the SQUIRE, "that + he didn't. JACKSON the very model + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page156" + id="page156"></a>[pg 156]</span> of a Leader of House, and + Prince ARTHUR—well he's Prince ARTHUR."</p> + + <p>"But I suppose you don't mean," I venture to ask, "that + JACKSON is the exclusive type of a successful Leader?"</p> + + <p>"No," says the SQUIRE, with a far-away look.</p> + + <p><i>Business done.</i>—Two Votes in Supply.</p> + + <p><i>Tuesday.</i>—Spent doleful afternoon in Committee + of Supply. Circumstances call upon Members below Gangway, + Radicals or Irishmen, to come to front, and make at least show + of doing something. SAGE OF QUEEN ANNE'S GATE pricks up his + ears when Chairman puts question to allow £6 7<i>s.</i> + 11<i>d.</i> on account of Sheerness Police Court. Why should + Northampton contribute its quota, however small, to expenses of + Sheerness Police Court? Debate and Division; after which, the + SAGE retired to smoke cigarette through rest of afternoon, and + discuss probable date of Dissolution.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/156.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/156.png" + alt="The Storm in the Reform Club Tea-Cup." /></a>The + Storm in the Reform Club Tea-Cup. + </div> + + <p>Then Irish Members come on. Cream seems spooned off the mass + in preparation for festivities on St. Patrick's Day, and only + the skimmest of skim milk left. WEBB wobbles to the front; + talks out vote for Chicago Royal Committee, although + ATTORNEY-GENERAL tells him it will be all right as to Irish + interests; being now close upon ten minutes to seven, when + Committee must adjourn, WEBSTER hasn't time to make detailed + explanations, but promises to do so on Report. WEBB maunders on + all the same, and Vote postponed.</p> + + <p>Great day for FLYNN. TIM HEALY thinks he's pretty smart as a + debater; SEXTON believes he knows a thing or two; O'BRIEN is + understood to be something of an orator. FLYNN will show House + how all these qualities may be combined in one man. Does it by + the tiresome twenty minutes, the lamentable half-hour; popping + up on every question with comically judicial air; talking on + with fatal feeble flatulent fluency, whilst GILL sits nursing + his hat awaiting his turn.</p> + + <p>Alack for Irish humour, eloquence and deviltry, that it + should come to this!</p> + + <p>Whilst FLYNN once again turns on the tap of his tepid + dish-water, news comes that Lord HAMPDEN died this morning in + far-off Pau. HAMPDEN was the BRAND who sat in Chair during + Parliament of 1874, and wrestled nightly with the "bhoys" when + they were in their prime—MAJOR O'GORMAN rollicking + through the night; JOSEPH GILLIS with lean hand outstretched + and his "It seems to me, MR. SPEAKER"; PARNELL in the white + heat of passion; DELAHUNTY with his One Pound Notes, and poor + MCCARTHY DOWNING with his scared look and his indescribable but + unmistakable air of one accustomed to frequent the best society + in Skibbereen.</p> + + <p>After a fourth speech from FLYNN, with another to follow + from WEBB, one almost envies the EX-SPEAKER lying at rest at + the foot of the Pyrenees.</p> + + <p><i>Business done.</i>—A few Votes in Supply.</p> + + <p><i>Thursday.</i>—St. Patrick's Day in the evening. + Irish Members rose to occasion; indeed, at one time O'KELLY and + JOHN O'CONNOR rose together; remained on their legs in defiance + of Standing Orders and angry protest of Chairman. Seemed as if + someone must be suspended <i>pour encourager les autres</i>. + Storm suddenly stilled; rising passion subdued by appearance of + ALPHEUS CLEOPHAS on the scene, wanting to know about the + Refreshment-bar in the Lobby. which, he said, was lowering to + the dignity and respectability of House.</p> + + <p><i>Friday</i> 12·15 A.M.—All this in Committee of + Supply, which came to end at midnight. Then Report of Supply + brought on; uproar renewed; Vote for Irish Teachers' Pension + Fund under discussion. Irish Members mysteriously disappeared; + SEXTON, understood to have ready prodigious speech on the + subject, nowhere to be found. "JOHN O'CONNOR," NOLAN hoarsely + whispered, "you have the longest legs in the Party; go and look + up the bhoys, and I'll talk."</p> + + <p>Silently but swiftly LONG JOHN stole forth on his mission; + NOLAN nobly performed his part. At end of forty minutes' + breathless talk, the Colonel, feeling his mouth growing + parched, moved adjournment of House. SPEAKER didn't recognise + relevancy of argument; declined to put the question.</p> + + <p>"The Hon. Member," he said, "has spoken for forty minutes, + and not given a single reason in favour of his proposal."</p> + + <p>"I was coming to that point," said NOLAN, "and, if it is + quite in order, I will now approach it."</p> + + <p>Ruled out of order. LONG JOHN, back from his foray, in + course of which had hunted up SEXTON, threw himself into + breach; moved the adjournment for irresistible reason.</p> + + <p>"I object," he said, "to this important subject being dealt + with at nearly one o'clock in the morning on St. Patrick's + night."</p> + + <p>T.W. RUSSELL, condoled with his compatriots below Gangway on + difficulties of situation. "Certainly hard," he said, "that on + St. Patrick's night they should be called upon to discuss + questions involving facts and figures." BALFOUR opposed + adjournment; CONYBEARE strode in; commenced what promised to be + long speech; Prince ARTHUR moved Closure; carried by nearly a + hundred majority.</p> + + <p>1·35 A.M.—House just back after division on question + of adjournment; Ministerialists in full muster and full of + fight; 41 for adjournment, 121 against. As if nothing been said + during previous hour-and-half, ILLINGWORTH urges Prince ARTHUR + to concede adjournment; PRINCE ARTHUR rises to reply. Irish + Members, pulling themselves together, walk steadily out, amid + ribald laughter from Ministerialists. Once more the CURSE OF + CAMBOURNE turns up. This seems, quite naturally, to suggest the + Closure; sort of automatic procedure; CONYBEARE—Closure. + One more division just to wind up, and at ten minutes past two + Vote carried and House up.</p> + + <p><i>Business done.</i>—Revival of old times.</p> + + <p><i>Saturday</i>, 1·20 A.M.—House just up, after + prolonged wrangle, lasting, with interval for dinner, straight + through from two o'clock yesterday afternoon. Met then for + Morning Sitting designed to make progress with financial + business. For four hours disputed how business was to be + arranged. This left one hour for doing it. Sitting suspended at + seven, resumed at nine.</p> + + <p>At it again talking about Royalties on Gold in Wales. + Domestic Policy in Zululand, the Irish Question in the Falkland + Islands, and Parliamentary Reporting. All this led gently up to + passing Vote on Account; a conclusion finally arrived at with + the assistance of the Closure.</p> + + <p><i>Business done.</i>—Vote on Account taken.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, + whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any + description, will in no case be returned, not even when + accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or + Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.</p> + <hr class="full" /> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14389 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/14389-h/images/145-1.png b/14389-h/images/145-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a77f60e --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/145-1.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/145-2.png b/14389-h/images/145-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5a6951a --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/145-2.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/146.png b/14389-h/images/146.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c06e05 --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/146.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/147.png b/14389-h/images/147.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..572a945 --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/147.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/148.png b/14389-h/images/148.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6fae484 --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/148.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/149-1.png b/14389-h/images/149-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ff4e99 --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/149-1.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/149-2.png b/14389-h/images/149-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..674bcdb --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/149-2.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/150.png b/14389-h/images/150.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a8c028b --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/150.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/151.png b/14389-h/images/151.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..339e5b0 --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/151.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/153-1.png b/14389-h/images/153-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c0a4e90 --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/153-1.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/153-2.png b/14389-h/images/153-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a35a83a --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/153-2.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/153-3.png b/14389-h/images/153-3.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..677c782 --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/153-3.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/154.png b/14389-h/images/154.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..09f1ff6 --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/154.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/155-1.png b/14389-h/images/155-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5b3d986 --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/155-1.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/155-2.png b/14389-h/images/155-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4a8fedf --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/155-2.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/155-3.png b/14389-h/images/155-3.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..89cd0d2 --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/155-3.png diff --git a/14389-h/images/156.png b/14389-h/images/156.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fa2d167 --- /dev/null +++ b/14389-h/images/156.png diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9b57d5c --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #14389 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14389) diff --git a/old/14389-8.txt b/old/14389-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9cce57b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14389-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1626 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, +March 26, 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, March 26, 1892 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: December 20, 2004 [EBook #14389] + +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 + + + + + +PUNCH, + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 102. + + + +March 26, 1892. + + + + +YE MODERATES OF LONDON! + +[Illustration: The Stay-at-Home Voter.] + + Ye Moderates of London + Who sat at home at ease, + Ah! little did you think upon + The dangerous C.C.'s! + While comfort did surround you, + You did not care to go + To remote + Spots to vote + When the stormy winds did blow. + + The voter should have courage + No danger he should shun; + In every kind of weather + All sorts of risks should run. + Not he! So bold Progressives + Will tax him, and he'll know + He must pay + In their way, + Which is neither sure nor slow. + + But when the Thames Embankment, + The finest road in town, + Is riotous with tramcars, + Will _that_ make rates come down? + Will all these free arrangements, + Free water, gas, do so? + Oh, they may! + Who can say? + And the Companies may go. + + When LIDGETT and McDOUGALL + Are censors of the play, + We can patronise the Drama + In a strictly proper way; + When PARKINSON's Inspector + Of Ballets, we shall know + He will stop + Any hop + If he sees a dancer's toe. + + Such grandmaternal rulers + Will settle life for us, + And Moderates, escaping + All canvassing and fuss, + Can still, from cosy firesides, + Through three long years or so, + Watch whereat + Jumps the cat, + And which way the wind does blow. + + * * * * * + +LOCKWOOD THE LECTURER. + + ["Last Tuesday Mr. FRANK LOCKWOOD, Q.C., M.P., delivered a + lecture entitled 'The Law and Lawyers of Pickwick,' to a large + gathering of the citizens of York, which place he represents + in Parliament."--_Daily Telegraph_.] + +AIR--"_Simon the Cellarer._" + + Oh, LOCKWOOD the Lecturer hath a rare store + Of jo-vi-a-li-tee + Of quips, and of cranks, with good stories galore, + For a cheery Q.C. is he! + A cheery Q.C. and M.P. + With pen and with pencil he never doth fail, + And every day he hath got a fresh tale. + "A Big-vig on Pig-vig," he quaintly did say, + When giving his lecture at York t'other day. + For Ho! ho! ho! + FRANK LOCKWOOD can show + How well he his DICKENS + Doth know, know, know! + _Chorus._--For Ho! ho! ho! &c. + + * * * * * + +HOSPITALITY À LA MODE. + + ["Programmes and introductions are going out of fashion at + balls."--_Weekly Paper_.] + + SCENE--_Interior of a Drawing-room during a dance. Sprightly + Damsel disengaged looking out for a partner. She addresses + cheerful-looking Middle-aged Gentleman, who is standing near + her._ + +_She._ I am not quite sure whether I gave you this waltz? + +_He._ Nor I. But I hope you did. I am afraid it is nearly over, but we + shall still have time for a turn. [_They join the dancers._ + +_She._ Too many people here to-night to make waltzing pleasant. + +_He._ Yes, it is rather crowded. Shall we sit out? + +_She_ (_thankfully, as he has not quite her step._) If you like. And + see, the band is bringing things to a conclusion. Don't you hate a + _cornet_ in so small a room as this? So dreadfully loud, you know. + +_He._ Quite. Yes, I think it would have been better to have kept to + the piano and the strings. + +_She._ But the place is prettily decorated. It must have cost them a + lot, getting all these flowers. + +_He._ I daresay. No doubt they managed it by contract. And lots of + things come from Algeria nowadays. You can get early vegetables in + winter for next to nothing. + +_She._ Yes, isn't it lovely? All these palms, I suppose, came from the + Stores. + +_He._ No doubt. By the way, do you know the people of the house at + all? + +_She._ Not much. Fact was, I was brought. Couldn't find either the + host or hostess. Such a crowd on the staircase, you know. + +_He._ Yes. Rather silly asking double the number of people the rooms + will hold, isn't it? + +_She._ Awfully. However, I suppose it pleases some folks. I presume + they consider it the swagger thing to do? + +_He._ I suppose they do. Do you know many people here? + +_She._ Not a soul, or-- + +_He._ You would not have spoken to me? + +_She._ Well, no--not exactly that. But-- + +_He._ You have no better excuse ready. Quite. + +_She._ How rude you are! You know I didn't quite mean that. + +_He._ No, not quite. Quite. + +_She._ By the way, do you know what time it is? + +_He._ Well, from the rooms getting less crowded, I fancy it must be + the supper hour. May I not take you down? + +_She._ You are most kind! But do you know the way? + +_He._ I think so. You see, I have learned the geography of the place + fairly well. + +_She._ How fortunate! But if I accept your kindness, I think I should + have the honour of knowing your name. + +_He._ Certainly; my name is SMITH. + +_She._ Any relation of the people who are giving the dance? + +_He._ Well, yes. I am giving the dance myself--or rather, my wife is. + +_She._ Oh, this is quite too delightful! For now you can tell me what + to avoid. + +_He._ Certainly; and I have the pleasure of speaking to--? + +_She._ You must ask my _chaperon_ for my name. You know, introductions + are not the fashion. + +_He._ And your _chaperon_ is--? + +_She._ Somewhere or other. In the meanwhile, if you will allow me? + +_He_ (_offering his arm_). Quite! + + [_Exeunt to supper._ + + * * * * * + +MR. PUNCH'S UP-TO-DATE POETRY FOR CHILDREN. + +NO. 1.--"LITTLE MISS MUFFIT." + +[Illustration] + + Little Miss MUFFIT + Reposed on a tuffet, + Consuming her curds and whey-- + She had dozens of dolls, + And some cash in Consols + Put by for a rainy day. + + But though calm and content + While she drew Three per Cent., + The Conversion unsettled her mien, + And she said, "Though they've thrown us + This Five-Shilling Bonus, + I cannot brook Two pounds fifteen!" + + Comes a Broker outsider-- + Who chanced to have spied her, + And "Options" and "Pools" he extols-- + When he pictures the profit + (Commission small off it), + She cheerfully sells her Consols. + + Then she starts operations + With fierce speculations + In Stocks of all manner and shape; + But whatever she chooses + Her "cover" she loses, + And sees it run off on the tape. + + So alas! for Miss MUFFIT-- + She now has to rough it, + And never gets jam with her tea; + While the Bucket-shop Dealer + Employs a four-wheeler, + Regardless of _L._ _S._ and _D._ + + * * * * * + +"THE FROGS" AT OXFORD. + + SCENE--_Parlour of Private House, Oxford._ TIME--_Quite + recently. Cook wishes to speak to her Mistress._ + +_Cook._ Please, 'm, I should like to go out this evening, 'm, which + it's to see them Frogs at the New Theayter. + +_Mistress._ But it's all Greek, and you won't understand it. + +_Cook._ O yes, 'm. I once saw the Performin' Fleas, and they was + French, I believe, leastways a Frenchman were showin' of 'em, and + I unnerstood all as was necessary. + + [_After this, of course she obtains permission._ + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Ram's Uncle (on the maternal side) has recently joined the +religious sect known as the Plymouth Brethren. This has greatly +distressed the good Lady. "If it had been anything else," she says, +"a Moravian Missionary, or a Christian Brother-in-law, I wouldn't +have minded. But to think that an Uncle of mine should have become +a Yarmouth Bloater is a little hard on a poor woman no longer in her +idolescence." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: WILFUL WILHELM. + +_An Imperial German Nursery Rhyme. (From the very latest Edition of +"Struwwelpeter.")_ + +_Wilful Wilhelm._ "TAKE THE NASTY _PUNCH_ AWAY! I WON'T HAVE ANY +_PUNCH_ TODAY!"] + + Young WILHELM was a wilful lad, + And lots of "cheek" young WILHELM had. + He deemed the world should hail with joy + A smart and self-sufficient boy, + And do as it by _him_ was told; + He _was_ so wise, he _was_ so bold. + If anyone dared stop his play, + He screamed out--"Take the wretch away! + Oh, take my enemy away! + I won't have any foes to-day!" + + His old adviser WILHELM swore + Was a pig-headed senile bore. + _He_ meant to try another tack, + So his Old Pilot got the sack. + Nay more, one day, in a fierce squall, + He smashed his picture on the wall; + Tore up the papers when they said + He was a little "off his head." + He yelled, in his despotic way, + "Not any Press for me," I say! + "Oh, take that nasty _Punch_ away + I won't have any _Punch_ to-day!" + + He deemed himself, and this was odd, + A sort of new Olympian god; + And when the wise, who watched his whim, + Sighed, "Have the gods demented him? + _Quem deus vult, et cetera_" he + Was just as mad as mad could be; + And, just like other angry boys, + Kicked over tables, smashed his toys, + And cried out, "Take the things away! + I'll have nought but new toys to-day!" + + "Prudence?" he yelled; "what do _I_ care?" + And here he kicked the old pet Bear + His sire and grandsire had so cherished, + Till the old policy had perished + With Wilful WILHELM, who preferred + The Eagles. With a pole he stirred + Big Bruin up. "Oh, _I_'ll surprise him! + And, if he growls, I'll 'pulverise' him." + Some thought that picking rows with Bruin + Meant folly, if it did not ruin; + But when they whispered words of warning, + Then Wilful WILHELM, counsel scorning, + Shrieked, "Take the nasty brute away! + I won't have any Bears to-day!" + + Now, WILHELM, do not be absurd, + But listen to a friendly word! + You are a clever boy, no doubt, + And very smart, and very stout, + Like young AUGUSTUS, dainty eater, + Whose story is in _Struwwelpeter_. + Did'st ever read those truthful stories, + Good Dr. HEINRICH HOFFMANN's glories, + Which round the world have travelled gaily, + By Nursery pets consulted daily? + If not, just get "Shock-headed PETER"; + Read of AUGUSTUS, the soup-eater, + And stuck-up "JOHNNY Head-in-Air," + Who came down "bump" all unaware. + And "Fidgety PHILIP." You'll confess them + Pointed,--and don't try to suppress them, + Like Princes, party-men and papers + Which can't admire _all_ your mad capers! + My Wilful WILHELM, you'll not win + By dint of mere despotic din; + By kicking everybody over + In whom a critic you discover, + Or shouting in your furious way, + "Oh, take the nasty _Punch_ away! + I won't have any _Punch_ to-day!" + + * * * * * + +WHAT THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF, MR. PUNCH, SAYS TO THE ARTISTS' +CORPS.--"Gentlemen, you would no doubt like a brush with the enemy, to +whom you will always show a full face. Any colourable pretence for +a skirmish won't suit your palette. You march with the colours, and, +like the oils, you will never run.' You all look perfect pictures, and +everybody must admire your well-knit frames. Gentlemen, I do not know +whether you will take my concluding observation as a compliment or +not, but I need hardly say that it is meant to be both truthful and +complimentary, and it is this, that though you are all Artists, you +look perfect models," + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: CONSCIENTIOUS. + +_Mr. Boozle_ (_soliloquises_). "MY MEDICAL MAN TOLD ME NEVER ON ANY +ACCOUNT TO MIX MY WINES. SO I'LL FINISH THE CHAMPAGNE FIRST, AND +_THEN_ TACKLE THE CLARET!"] + + * * * * * + +"BUTCHER'D TO MAKE--." + + [On Monday the 14th a "lion-tamer" was torn to pieces in a + show at Hednesford.] + + Shame to the callous French, who goad + The horse that pulls a heavy load! + Shame to the Spanish bull-fight! Shame + To those who make of death a game! + We English are a better race: + We love the long and solemn face; + We fly from any cheerful place,-- + On Sunday. + + But, other days, we like a show. + There may be danger, as we know; + We put the thought of that aside, + For noble sport is England's pride: + We'd advertise a railway trip, + To see a wretched tamer slip + And die beneath the lion's grip,-- + On Monday! + + * * * * * + +A REALLY EXCEPTIONALLY REMARKABLE AND NOTEWORTHY FACT.--_To-day, +Thursday, March_ 17.--Fine Spring weather. Have sat for over +half-an-hour at a window looking on to the street, between 3·30 and +4·15 P.M., _and have not once heard either the whole or any portion of +the now strangely popular "Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay!"_ ... As I write this +... ha!... The grocer's book!... "Boom-de-ay" without the "Ta-ra." +The spell is broken! N.B.--As this delightful song has now a certain +number of Music-"hall-marks," the places where it is sung can be +spotted and remembered as "Ta-ra's Halls." + + * * * * * + +TO THE YOUNG CITY-MEN. + +TO MAKE MUCH OF (LUNCHEON) TIME; OR, A COUNSEL TO CLERKS. (AFTER +HERRICK.) + + Gather ye fish-bones while ye may, + The luncheon hour is flying, + And this same cod, that's boiled to-day, + To-morrow may be frying. + + The handsome clock of ormolu + A quarter past is showing, + And soon 'twill be a quarter to, + When you must think of going. + + That man eats best who eats the first, + When fish and plates are warmer, + But being cold, the worse and worst + Fare still succeeds the former. + + Then be not coy, but use your lungs, + And while ye may, cry "_Waiter_!" + For having held just now your tongues, + You may repent it later. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: FANCY PORTRAIT. + +THE HUMBUG-HUNTING FERRET. (_VIVERRA LABOUCHERIENSIS_.) + +_The Times_ (_loq._). "AH! WONDERFUL INSTINCT, AND OCCASIONALLY +USEFUL. BUT I'M NOT PARTICULARLY PARTIAL TO HIM!"] + + * * * * * + +PONSCH, PRINCE OF OLLENDORF. + +(_M. MAETERLINCK'S VERY LAST MASTERPIECE._) + +The Belgian Master has tried, as he has already informed the world, +"to write SHAKSPEARE for a company of Marionnettes." Encouraged by +his extraordinary success, he has soared higher yet, and adapted +our greatest national drama for the purposes of the (Independent) +itinerant Stage. We are enabled by the courtesy of his publishers to +give a few specimen scenes from this _magnum opus_, which, as will +be seen, requires somewhat more elaborate mounting and mechanical +effects than are at present afforded by the ordinary Punch +Show. In M. MAETERLINCK's version, Ponsch becomes the Prince of +Half-seas-over-Holland; he is the victim of hereditary homicidal +mania, complicated by neurotic hysteria. Inflamed by the insinuations +of Mynheer Olenikke--a kind of Dutch Mephistopheles and Iago +combined--he is secretly jealous of his consort the Princess Jödi's +preference for the society of Djoë, the Court Jester and Society +Clown. Here is our first sample:-- + + _A Chamber in the Castle. Princess JÖDI discovered at a + window with DJOË._ + +_Jödi_. Lo! lo! a shower of stars is falling upon the fowl-house! + +_Djoë_. Oh! oh! a shower of stars upon the fowl-house? (_A water pipe +in the back-garden bursts suddenly and splashes them._) Ah! ah! I am +wet all over! Have you a pocket handkerchief? + +_Jödi_. Oh, look! a comet--an enormous one--has descended into the +water-butt! The sky is blood-red, and the moon has turned the colour +of green cheese. This bodes some disaster! + +_Djoë_. It is unsettled--rainy--unpleasant weather. Can you lend me an +umbrella? + +_Jödi_. I cannot lend you an umbrella, because I have lent mine to +the gardener's wife. Owls are roosting on the chimney-pots, and a +stickleback has jumped out of the pond. Hush, my Lord the Prince +approaches! + + [_Prince PONSCH enters, bearing a stout staff, which he nurses + gloomily, like an infant; a hurricane is heard in the middle + distance; the waterpipe sobs strangely and then expires; a + blackbeetle comes out of a cupboard and runs uneasily about, + until a flash of lightning enters down the chimney and kills + it. PONSCH stands glaring at DJOË and the Princess._ + +_Djoë_ (_hastily_). There is going to be a storm. Do not forget what I +have uttered. Good evening! + + [_He goes; the wind whistles a popular air through the + keyhole._ + +_Jödi_ (_nervously_). What an appalling evening! I have never seen the +like of such a sky. + +_Ponsch_. There is something about you this evening--how beautiful you +are looking! Bring BEBBI-PONSCH. + +_Jödi_ (_fetching the Infant Prince_). Here he is. Why do you look so +strangely at him? + +_Bebbi-Ponsch_ (_a small, but important part_). Is Pa-a-par poo-oorly? +Won't he p'ay wiz me no mo-ore? + +_Ponsch_. The soul of a little stage-child looms from under his green +eyes! OLENIKKE was right, and I-- No matter. I will open the window. + + [_Opens it, and throws BEBBI-P. out. Sound of water-splash + audible._ + +_Jödi_. Oh my! Oh my! What have you done? He has fallen right into the +moat--on one of the swans! + +_Ponsch_. Indeed--on one of the swans? (_A pot of mignonnette is blown +off the window-sill by a gust._) I will close the window. (_Closes it; +a hailstorm beats on the panes._) Is that really a hailstorm--or only +birds? + +_Jödi_. I can hear nothing. (P. _strikes her suddenly on the head +with staff._) Someone is knocking at my door. Come in! I cannot see +anything now. + +_Ponsch_. Can you, indeed, see nothing? [_He strikes her again._ + +_Jödi_. Now I can see stars. I feel as if purple mills were going +round in my head. I shall never kiss anybody any more. Oh! oh! oh! +[_She dies._ + +_Ponsch_. She was a beautiful woman, do you know? Oh, how lonely I +shall feel hereafter! (_A black dog is heard scratching and sniffing +outside the door._) It is only Tobbi. Someone has trod on your toe, +my poor Tobbi. Come in. Give me your paw. (_Tobbi enters, and flies +suddenly at his nose._) Oh, my nose is bleeding! Let us go to the +pond. I do not know why I feel so melancholy this evening. [_He goes +out, pursued by Tobbi._ + + SAMPLE No. II.--_A Hall in Castle Ollendorff. A Marionnette + Theatre at the back of Stage. DJOË, a Belgian Bedell, and + Dutch Dolls-in-waiting discovered._ + +_Djoë_. Green flames are running along the walls, and blue globes are +bounding about the back garden. I have never seen such a night. Here +comes the Prince. + + [_Enter PONSCH, conscience-stricken; all bow._ + +_Ponsch_. I am not melancholy, but I have hardly any hair. Let the +Play commence! + + _Curtain of Marionnette Show rises; a Clown is seen chasing + a butterfly._ + +_A Councillor_. Oh! oh! oh! [_Uproar; the Clown and Butterfly are +withdrawn. A Skeleton appears on the Stage, and dances his head and +limbs off in a blue light._ + +_Ponsch_ (_rising_). That was done purposely! You are driving at +something. Confess it! Is there no topic more cheerful? I cannot bear +it any longer! + + [_Knocks down DJOË with his staff. A combat, during which + DJOË several times obtains possession of the weapon, and + wounds PONSCH. N.B.--Note the striking resemblance here to + the similar, but very inferior, Scenes in "Hamlet."_ + +_The Dutch Dolls_ (_running about_). Both of them bleeding already! +There's blood on the walls already! Already blood on the walls! (&c.). + +_The Bedell_. The Prince has slain DJOË. Take him into custody. + + [_PONSCH strikes the Bedell down._ + +_The B._ Ha! ha! ha! (_Tries to rise--but is struck again_). Ha! ha! +(_PONSCH strikes once more._) Ha! + + [_The Bedell dies; a draught enters under the door and + blows out two of the candles; a thunderbolt is heard coming + down-stairs, and the Ghost of JÖDI suddenly appears from + behind a tapestry representing "The Finding of Moses."_ + +_Ponsch_ (_to Ghost_). Have you any hearse-plumes at hand? Do not be +angry with me. Can you hear my teeth? I am only a poor little old man. +Will you please undo my necktie? (_cf. "King Lear"_). Let us go to +breakfast. Will there be muffins for breakfast? + + [_Exit, leaning heavily on Ghost's arm._ + +_The Dutch Dolls_ (_with conviction_). One more such night as this, +and all our heads would have gone bald! + + SAMPLE No. III.--_The Courtyard with a scaffold and gibbet. + A blood-red moon is sailing amid the currant-bushes, and a + shower of stars proceeds uninterruptedly. PONSCH discovered + looking through the fatal noose._ + +_Djakketch_ (_the Court Executioner_). Can you see anything through +the loop? + +_Ponsch_. Not yet. I cannot see the audience anywhere. + +_Djak._ No; we are probably above the heads of the audience. But can't +you distinguish Mr. WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE? + +_Ponsch_. Wait one moment. No, I cannot see Mr. SHAKSPEARE anywhere. + +_Djak._ Because he has had to take a back seat. Look again. Can you +see nothing? + +_Ponsch_. I can make out an omnibus in the street. It is green. + +_Djak._ Ay, ay! A Bayswater 'bus. They _are_ green. But don't you see +any of the general public? + +_Ponsch_. I can see Mr. WILLIAM ARCHER, and some new Critics, and +unconventional Dramatists. They are following the text with books of +the Play. But there are no more errand-boys with baskets. + +_Djak._ This is wonderful. No more errand-boys with baskets? + +_Ponsch_. No more small children with babies! + +_Djak._ No more small children? Do pray let _me_ look. (_PONSCH +retires, and DJAKKETCH puts his head through the loop._) Oh, I can +see plainly now. There is not a single spectator left. They have all +been bored to death! + +_Ponsch_. All bored to death? Now then, lift your head a little, and I +will fondle you. [_Pulls the cord towards himself._ + +_Djak._ Oh, what have you put round my neck? Oh me! You are going to +... oh, you _are_! + +_Ponsch_. Oh, I _am_! + +_Djak._ Then--oh! + +_Ponsch_. Oh! + + [_Exeunt all, except DJAKKETCH, who ceases kicking + gradually. A peacock is heard warbling in a cemetery round the + corner; a barn-door fowl jumps on a wheelbarrow, and crows._ + +FINIS. + + * * * * * + +HORACE IN LONDON. + +TO A CRUSTED OLD PORT. (_AD AMPHORAM_.) + +[Illustration] + + Old liquor born on my birthday, a twin to me, + Whether ordained wit and mirth to put into me, + Or passions that witch and defy us, + Or, peradventure, the sleep of the pious. + + Vaunt not its shippers, my friend, but produce it--an + Actual, "forty-five," languorous Lusitan, + Befitting, whate'er be its label, + You, my good host, and the guest at your table. + + Steeped though you frown in this dryasdust clever age, + Dare you presume to resist such a beverage? + Why, ELDON, that dragon of virtue, + Never imagined its vintage could hurt you. + + Liquor like this from a bottle whose crust is whole, + Liquor like this rubs the rust from the rusty soul; + The faddist it mellows: the private + Secrets of State it can somehow arrive at. + + Under its spell frolics Hypochondriasis; + Poverty learns what a millionnaire's bias is, + Yes, Poverty, such a spell under, + Laughs at the County Court's impotent thunder. + + Fill, then! A bumper we'll empty between us to + Bacchus, the _Pas-de-trois_ Graces, and Venus too, + With all of that classical ilk, man-- + Till the stars fade with the morn and the milkman. + + * * * * * + +THE "TA-RA-RA" BOOM. + +(_BY OUR OWN MELANCHOLY MUSER._) + + I am shrouded in impenetrable _gloom_-de-ay, + For I feel I'm being driven to my _doom_-de-ay, + By an aggravating ditty + Which I don't consider witty; + And they call the horrid thing, "Ta-ra-ra-_boom-de-ay_!" + + Every 'bus-conductor, errand-boy, and _groom_-de-ay, + City clerk, and cheeky crossing-sweep with _broom_-de-ay + Makes my nervous system bristle + As he tries to sing or whistle + That atrocious and absurd "Ta-ra-ra-_boom_-de-ay!" + + So I sit in the seclusion of my _room_-de-ay, + And deny myself to all--no matter _whom_-de-ay-- + For I dread a creature coming + Whose involuntary humming + May assume the fatal form, "Ta-ra-ra-_boom_-de-ay!" + + Oh, I fear that when the Summer roses _bloom_-de-ay, + You will read upon a well-appointed _tomb_-de ay:-- + "Influenza never lick'd him, + But he fell an easy victim + To that universal scourge--'Ta-ra-ra-_boom_-de-ay!'" + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +One of the Baron's Assistant Readers has been reading a +really interesting, well written novel in two volumes, by MARY +BRADFORD-WHITING. It is called _Denis O'Neil_, and tells of the +adventures of a young Irish Doctor who gets entangled in the plots +of one of those Secret Societies that used to exist in "the most +distressful country that ever yet was seen," some twenty years ago. +The romance contains some clever sketches of character. The story +(published by BENTLEY) ends sadly, and those who want to find fault +with it will say it is too short. + +[Illustration: Our Competition Novel.--Competitors at Work.] + +The Leadenhall Press,--immortalised by its invention of that +invaluable work of art, "The Hairless Author's Paper Pad," which the +Baron herewith and hereby strongly recommends to Mr. GLADSTONE, who +has so much writing to do with a pad on his knee, and for this purpose +Mr. G. would find this the "_knee plus ultra_" of inventions,--this +same Leadenhall Press has recently published a story without a title, +offering a reward of £100 to any individual, or to be divided between +such individuals, as may guess it. The story is in effect about +a youth who lost his right eye in fighting another boy, and who +subsequently revenged himself by depriving his antagonist of an eye by +a violent stroke at Lawn-tennis. What can be the title? The Baron has +had the following suggestions made to him:--"Eye for an Eye," "The +Egotist," "My Eye!" "Aye! aye!" "Ocular Demonstration," "A Man of One +Eye-dear!" "Eyes Righted," "One Left," "The Other Eye," "Two Pupils +and One Eye," "You and Eye," "The Eyes Have It." The Baron "winks the +other eye," and will be very glad should any hint of his have assisted +a deserving person to gain the reward offered by Mr. TUER. _En +attendant_ the Baron has hit upon a still more novel idea. He will +write some contributions towards short stories, and his readers shall +finish them. The terms will be these:--The Baron commences a chapter, +or a few lines of it, and leaves it unfinished, then his readers shall +finish the sentence, and sometimes the chapter, for themselves. If the +sentence, or the chapter, as the case may be, _shall turn out to be +exactly what the Baron would have written had he continued it, then +he, the Baron, will award_ £100 _to the successful candidate, or will +award a division of that sum among the successful candidates. Every +competitor shall pay the Baron_ £50. _And to insure such payment, +each competitor's cheque for this amount must accompany his or her +contribution._ + +EXAMPLE.--_CHAPTER I.--The harvest-moon was slowly rising. The +heather, dried and burnt by the mid-day sun, appeared, to the eye +unaccustomed to this aspect of the country, to be merely a rugged +divergence from the main road. Descending carefully from his dog-cart, +a small man in a big coat, muffled up to the eyes, proceeded leisurely +to--_ + +Now, then, _what_ did he leisurely proceed to do? There's a fortune in +it!--somewhere!--says + +THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: STUDIES IN ANIMAL LIFE. + +THE GOORMONG. (_EPICURI DE GREGE PORCUS. BRITISH ISLES._) + +_Mr. Huggins._ "_WHAT_ A 'EAVENLY DINNER IT WAS!" + +_Mr. Buggins._ "B'LIEVE YER! MYKES YER WISH YER WAS BORN 'OLLER!"] + + * * * * * + +SPRING TIME IN LEAP YEAR; + +OR, THE JOLLY BATHERS. + +_First Jolly Bather_ (_singing, quaveringly_):-- + Spring's delights are now revi-i-i-vi-i-i-ng, + Verdant leaflets deck each spr-a-ay! + +_Second Jolly Bather_ (_impatiently_). _Don't_, ARTHUR, make that +row! B-r-r-r! (_Shivers._) Spring's _delights_, indeed! And as to +the "verdant leaflets" (unless you mean election squibs), where _are_ +they? + +_First Ditto._ Ah, "verdant leaflets" not a bad name for Financial +Reform tracts, _et id genus omne_. Touch of your old satirical +Saturday-Reviewish style there, Nunky! + +_Second Ditto_ (_hastily_). Oh, bother! What are we here for? + +_First Ditto_ (_coolly_). Why, to _bathe_, I presume. + +_Second Ditto._ Bah! One would think, ARTHUR, we belonged to that +society of lunatics who make a point of taking a matutinal plunge in +the Serpentine every morning, all the year round, _even if they have +to break the ice to do it_! Ineffable idiots! [_Curls up._ + +_First Ditto._ Well, we may as well put a good face on it, Uncle. + + [_Grimaces._ + +_Second Ditto_. Ah, yes, you can say so--at _your_ age, ARTHUR. I like +my morning tub in my bath-room--with the chill off. + + [_Wraps his towel round his neck._ + +_First Ditto_. (_Sings again, tremolo_):-- + Why linger shivering on the brink, + And fear to launch away? + +_Second Ditto_ (_sharply_). Why, you're at it again, ARTHUR! And a +Conventicler's hymn, too, this time. I'm a-a-shamed of you. + +_First Ditto_. Ah! that's what LABOUCHERE, O'KELLY, CONYBEARE, and +Company say! _I_ don't mind; in fact, as I told 'em, I rather like it. +Does me a world of good. + +_Second Ditto_ (_admiringly_). Ah! you _have_ got a nerve, ARTHUR. I +_will_ say that for you. Still, you've been giving them something to +"guy" you about lately, you know. + +_First Ditto_ (_sharply_). Ah! have I? Well, "I can assure you that +I am the last person in the world to object to a process from which I +have profited so much." + +_Second Ditto_. Oh, yes, that was all very well for them, over yonder. +In fact, I own it was rather neatly put. + +_First Ditto_ (_slily_). Didn't "lack finish," was sufficiently "_ad +unguem_," eh, Nunky? + +_Second Ditto_ (_moodily_). Ah! what do you youngsters know about +those fine old fighting days? I didn't love DIZZY, but he was a neat +hand with the foils, boy. + +_First Ditto_. Especially in a bout with a friend,--with the buttons +off. But I say, this isn't bathing, you know! + +_Second Ditto_. No. (_Eyeing the stream distastefully._) Hadn't +we better postpone the pleasure till a little later in the season, +ARTHUR. When those "Spring's delights" of which you melodiously +twangle are a leetle more _en évidence_. + +_First Ditto_ (_pipes_). Hawthorn buds give joyful tidings. + Welcome, youths, 'tis bright bath-day! + +_Second Ditto_. Ah! if we're here to do the Eclogue business, STREPHON +can take his turn, as well as CORYDON. [_Sings._ + Let us plunge into the ri-i-i-v-e-e-r! + Leave our vesture on the bank! + +_First Ditto_. Bless me, STREPHON, how you shi-i-v-e-e-r! + +_Second Ditto_. 'Tis like a fishmonger's tank! + +_First Ditto_. Pooh! 'tis lovely--when you're in it; + One bold header, and 'tis done! + +_Second Ditto_. Ah, quite so, but--wait a minute, + Till I've warmed me with a run. + That will stir my circulation; + For the moment I am "friz." + +_First Ditto_. _Magnifique!_ my dear relation; + But, you'll own, it is not "biz." + +_Both_. We must o-o-o-ow-n it is not "biz!" + +_Second Ditto_. Well, no, I suppose it isn't, ARTHUR. By the way, +what's that row behind there? + +_First Ditto_. (_looking_). By Jove! it's that Gladstone gang! They've +tracked us! (_Sings_)-- + They're after us! They're after us! + _We_'re the individuals they require. + +_Second Ditto_. (_sardonically_). What a lyric _répertoire_ you have, +ARTHUR! Old English glee, Puritan psalmody. Music-hall song, all come +equally well to you, it seems. But those roughs mean mischief, Nephew +mine! + +[Illustration: SPRING TIME IN LEAP YEAR. + +SALISBURY. "DON'T YOU THINK, NEPHEW ARTHUR, WE'D BETTER +_PLUNGE_--BEFORE WE'RE _PUSHED_?"] + +_First Ditto_. Doubtless! They always do. And they've done some +lately, drat them! I say, wouldn't they like _to shove us in_, as they +did the old witches, _to see if we can swim_? + +_Second Ditto_. By Jove! I shouldn't wonder if they tried. Don't you +think, ARTHUR, (_valiantly_) it would be better, more manly, and more +politic, perchance, _to plunge in than to be pushed_? + +_First Ditto_ (_drily_). Ah! just as the brave sheep-- + "Committed suicide to save themselves from slaughter." + +_Second Ditto_. Oh, hang your quotations! Happy omen! 'Tis Leap Year, +is it not? Just a leap; though, like DERBY's, it be "in the dark," +and--well, _we shall know where we are, anyhow!_ + +_First Ditto_. Ah, just so; and that's something! + + [_Left considering._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: TEMPTATION. + +_Hairdresser_. "ANY _BAY-RUM_, SIR?" + +_Middy_. "THANK YOU--A--NO! NOT QUITE so EARLY IN THE MORNING--YOU +KNOW!"] + + * * * * * + +"CLERK ME NO CLERKS." + + It seems Sir E.C., Q.C., likes + The blatant, brazen, Boothian band, + Admires "abstaining" zeal that strikes + The biggest drum with boldest hand. + He says, "You must not judge some others' case + By tastes much more refined," less commonplace. + + Yet, as Sir EDWARD disagrees + With those whose tastes he thus divined, + It's manifestly clear he sees + _His_ taste in music's not "refined." + 'Twas written long ago by CHAUCER's pen, + "The gretest clerkes ben not the wisest men." + + * * * * * + +"MY DEAR EYES! WHAT! SEE-USAN!" + +At the Prince of Wales's, Mr. ARTHUR ROBERTS, as _Captain Crosstree_, +is more ARTHUR ROBERTS than ever, and, consequently, immensely droll. +While he is on the stage, the audience is convulsed with spasmodic +laughter, excepting when he tries to forget himself and his drollery +in a loyal attempt at doing justice to Messrs. SIMS' AND PETTITT's +words, and to the serious business of some situation intended to be +dramatic. At such moments the laughter of the House is checked, a +sudden gloom comes over the faces that were but now on the broad grin, +even the lineaments of Mr. ROBERTS become agonised, and the audience, +like _Christopher Sly_ when bored by the Duke's players, mutter to +themselves, "would t'were done." But these painful seconds, which, at +the time, seem hours, are, we are glad to say, but brief and passing +shadows over Mr. ROBERTS' own quaint humour which speedily reasserts +itself, and, the Pettitt-and-Sims fetters being cast aside, the +People's ARTHUR is himself again, and more so than ever. And, when he +_is_ himself, he is simply the most absurd person that ever faced the +footlights. + +[Illustration: _Arthur Roberts_ (_to Arthur Williams_). "The boat's +getting along nicely, now we've got rid of some of the heavy cargo."] + +Miss NELLIE STEWART is a pretty singing, dancing, twisting, twirling +_Susan_. But what induced handsome Miss MARION BURTON, once so gay +and sprightly as _Cherubino_ in _Le Nozze di Figaro_, to essay this +musically dreary part of _William_, and, further, to wear a costume +about as unlike that of the nautical and traditional _William_ as can +well be imagined, is a puzzle to anyone who knows what she _has_ done +and _can_ do. Not a bit of dash in the character; all the good old +conventional British Tar taken right out of it. She can indeed say +with the fool in _The Yeomen of the Guard_, "I've got a song to sing, +oh!" for she has two or three, but her "voice is wasted on the desert +air," as they go for nothing, and therefore probably nobody else could +make them go for anything. + +Mr. ARTHUR WILLIAMS is funny, but his Variety Show scene, with +soliloquy and song, is too long; or rather, it would not be too long, +if the piece were only cut down to a two hours' entertainment. + +[Illustration: A Mug of Burton.] + +Let this "Comic Opera," for so is it described in the bills, be +cut down as ruthlessly, but not as blindly, as _William_ cut down +_Crosstree_; let something catching be substituted for most of the +music of the First Act,--specially omitting the "Why, certainly!" +interpolation, which is a feeble but evident imitation of Mr. W.S. +GILBERT's classic "What, never?" "Well, hardly ever;" let the music +of the Second Act be taken out by handfuls, and, if possible, let what +remains be replaced by something sparkling; then, with less of sweet +but sad _William_--for the present version of the part is quite +"BURTON's _Anatomy of Melancholy_,"--with less of fascinating but +squirming _Susan_, far less of minor characters generally, and more, +by comparison, of the two MACS--meaning the two ARTHURS with the +plural names ROBERTS and WILLIAMS,--also a telling song for Mr. +CHAUNCEY OLCOTT (whose singing now wins an _encore_ for an indifferent +ballad),--with the Captain's-giggy hornpipe of Mr. WILLIE WARD +retained, as also the graceful dancing of Miss KATIE SEYMOUR, and +then, omitting as much of the plot and authors' written dialogue as +can be conveniently spared,--very little of it would be missed,--there +is no rhyme or reason why _Blue-Eyed Susan_ should not run on as a +Variety Entertainment for any number of nights and days, during which +fresh material can be constantly substituted by Messrs. ROBERTS & Co. +of the Drollery Company, Unlimited, without racking the fertile brains +of Messrs. PETTITT AND SIMS. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE SALVATION HOUSE OF COMMONS. OUR PARLIAMENTARY +ARTIST'S DREAM, MARCH 10.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: ONE FOR HIM. + +_Major Spooneleigh_. "AND YOU RIDE SO WELL, AND--ER--YOU DRIVE +SO WONDERFULLY WELL, AND--ER--YOU DANCE SO--ER--BEAUTIFULLY, AND +YOU--ER--PLAY LAWN-TENNIS SO--ER--EXQUISITELY, AND--ER--OF COURSE YOU +FISH ALSO?" + +_Mrs. Dasher_. "NEVER FOR COMPLIMENTS, I ASSURE YOU; AND CERTAINLY NOT +IN SHALLOW WATERS!"] + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. + +[Illustration: Chief Secretary.] + +_House of Commons, Monday, March_ 14.--JACKSON turned up to-night +answering questions from Irish Members. This reminds us he's Irish +Secretary. Been so of course since Parliament met; but quite forgotten +it. Mention this to the SPEAKER who looked a little dull while Captain +PRICE was discoursing on Navy Affairs in Committee of Supply. So went +up to have a little chat with him in the Chair. + +"My dear TOBY," he said, "I don't know whether you meant it, but +you've paid JACKSON the highest compliment it is possible to convey. +When in these times the CHIEF SECRETARY so manages to conduct business +of his department that he himself is temporarily forgotten, he's doing +it surpassingly well. My big brother ROBERT was once Chief Secretary, +though perhaps you forget that also. He resigned because, as he said, +there was not enough work to keep an active man going. That was long +time ago. I daresay you had no chance of forgetting during the last +five years that Prince ARTHUR was Chief Secretary?" + +[Illustration: T.P. Gill.] + +Cannot claim to have invented the compliment the SPEAKER discerned; +merely mentioning matter of fact; but, as he says, when in these days +a Chief Secretary manages to get himself forgotten, the wheels at the +Irish Office must be going pretty smoothly. JACKSON has not brought +about this miraculous change by laying himself out to flatter or court +Irish Members. He is exactly the same as he was when he filled office +of Financial Secretary; doubtless the same as when he looked after his +tanyard in Yorkshire. Goes straight to the point in simple unaffected +business manner that ruffles no sensibilities. Fancy he could tan a +hide in such a way that it would not feel any resentment. + +A predecessor at the Irish Office who succeeded, in more troublesome +times, in living on peaceable terms with Irish Members, was +CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN. Irish Members, swift judges of character, taking +measure of both, came to conclusion nothing to be gained by rowing +round them. What killed FORSTER, and turned GEORGE TREVELYAN's hair +grey, made CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN smile--not an offensive smile, but one +of interested amusement. JACKSON's sense of humour not so keen, but +his imperturbability even more impregnable. If Irish Member trailed +his coat before him, JACKSON would say, "My dear fellow, won't you get +cold? Let me help you on with your coat." + +SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, a judge on this particular point, says the MARKISS +missed the greatest chance he has had for six months in not putting +JACKSON in place of OLD MORALITY. + +"Precious good thing for us, TOBY," says the SQUIRE, "that he didn't. +JACKSON the very model of a Leader of House, and Prince ARTHUR--well +he's Prince ARTHUR." + +"But I suppose you don't mean," I venture to ask, "that JACKSON is the +exclusive type of a successful Leader?" + +"No," says the SQUIRE, with a far-away look. + +_Business done._--Two Votes in Supply. + +_Tuesday._--Spent doleful afternoon in Committee of Supply. +Circumstances call upon Members below Gangway, Radicals or Irishmen, +to come to front, and make at least show of doing something. SAGE OF +QUEEN ANNE'S GATE pricks up his ears when Chairman puts question to +allow £6 7s. 11d. on account of Sheerness Police Court. Why should +Northampton contribute its quota, however small, to expenses of +Sheerness Police Court? Debate and Division; after which, the SAGE +retired to smoke cigarette through rest of afternoon, and discuss +probable date of Dissolution. + +[Illustration: The Storm in the Reform Club Tea-Cup.] + +Then Irish Members come on. Cream seems spooned off the mass in +preparation for festivities on St. Patrick's Day, and only the +skimmest of skim milk left. WEBB wobbles to the front; talks out vote +for Chicago Royal Committee, although ATTORNEY-GENERAL tells him it +will be all right as to Irish interests; being now close upon ten +minutes to seven, when Committee must adjourn, WEBSTER hasn't time +to make detailed explanations, but promises to do so on Report. WEBB +maunders on all the same, and Vote postponed. + +Great day for FLYNN. TIM HEALY thinks he's pretty smart as a debater; +SEXTON believes he knows a thing or two; O'BRIEN is understood to be +something of an orator. FLYNN will show House how all these qualities +may be combined in one man. Does it by the tiresome twenty minutes, +the lamentable half-hour; popping up on every question with comically +judicial air; talking on with fatal feeble flatulent fluency, whilst +GILL sits nursing his hat awaiting his turn. + +Alack for Irish humour, eloquence and deviltry, that it should come to +this! + +Whilst FLYNN once again turns on the tap of his tepid dish-water, news +comes that Lord HAMPDEN died this morning in far-off Pau. HAMPDEN was +the BRAND who sat in Chair during Parliament of 1874, and wrestled +nightly with the "bhoys" when they were in their prime--MAJOR +O'GORMAN rollicking through the night; JOSEPH GILLIS with lean hand +outstretched and his "It seems to me, MR. SPEAKER"; PARNELL in the +white heat of passion; DELAHUNTY with his One Pound Notes, and poor +MCCARTHY DOWNING with his scared look and his indescribable but +unmistakable air of one accustomed to frequent the best society in +Skibbereen. + +After a fourth speech from FLYNN, with another to follow from WEBB, +one almost envies the EX-SPEAKER lying at rest at the foot of the +Pyrenees. + +_Business done._--A few Votes in Supply. + +_Thursday._--St. Patrick's Day in the evening. Irish Members rose to +occasion; indeed, at one time O'KELLY and JOHN O'CONNOR rose together; +remained on their legs in defiance of Standing Orders and angry +protest of Chairman. Seemed as if someone must be suspended _pour +encourager les autres_. Storm suddenly stilled; rising passion subdued +by appearance of ALPHEUS CLEOPHAS on the scene, wanting to know about +the Refreshment-bar in the Lobby. which, he said, was lowering to the +dignity and respectability of House. + +_Friday_ 12·15 A.M.--All this in Committee of Supply, which came to +end at midnight. Then Report of Supply brought on; uproar renewed; +Vote for Irish Teachers' Pension Fund under discussion. Irish Members +mysteriously disappeared; SEXTON, understood to have ready prodigious +speech on the subject, nowhere to be found. "JOHN O'CONNOR," NOLAN +hoarsely whispered, "you have the longest legs in the Party; go and +look up the bhoys, and I'll talk." + +Silently but swiftly LONG JOHN stole forth on his mission; NOLAN +nobly performed his part. At end of forty minutes' breathless talk, +the Colonel, feeling his mouth growing parched, moved adjournment of +House. SPEAKER didn't recognise relevancy of argument; declined to put +the question. + +"The Hon. Member," he said, "has spoken for forty minutes, and not +given a single reason in favour of his proposal." + +"I was coming to that point," said NOLAN, "and, if it is quite in +order, I will now approach it." + +Ruled out of order. LONG JOHN, back from his foray, in course of which +had hunted up SEXTON, threw himself into breach; moved the adjournment +for irresistible reason. + +"I object," he said, "to this important subject being dealt with at +nearly one o'clock in the morning on St. Patrick's night." + +T.W. RUSSELL, condoled with his compatriots below Gangway on +difficulties of situation. "Certainly hard," he said, "that on St. +Patrick's night they should be called upon to discuss questions +involving facts and figures." BALFOUR opposed adjournment; CONYBEARE +strode in; commenced what promised to be long speech; Prince ARTHUR +moved Closure; carried by nearly a hundred majority. + +1·35 A.M.--House just back after division on question of adjournment; +Ministerialists in full muster and full of fight; 41 for adjournment, +121 against. As if nothing been said during previous hour-and-half, +ILLINGWORTH urges Prince ARTHUR to concede adjournment; PRINCE ARTHUR +rises to reply. Irish Members, pulling themselves together, walk +steadily out, amid ribald laughter from Ministerialists. Once more the +CURSE OF CAMBOURNE turns up. This seems, quite naturally, to suggest +the Closure; sort of automatic procedure; CONYBEARE--Closure. One more +division just to wind up, and at ten minutes past two Vote carried and +House up. + +_Business done._--Revival of old times. + +_Saturday_, 1·20 A.M.--House just up, after prolonged wrangle, +lasting, with interval for dinner, straight through from two o'clock +yesterday afternoon. Met then for Morning Sitting designed to make +progress with financial business. For four hours disputed how business +was to be arranged. This left one hour for doing it. Sitting suspended +at seven, resumed at nine. + +At it again talking about Royalties on Gold in Wales. Domestic +Policy in Zululand, the Irish Question in the Falkland Islands, and +Parliamentary Reporting. All this led gently up to passing Vote on +Account; a conclusion finally arrived at with the assistance of the +Closure. + +_Business done._--Vote on Account taken. + + * * * * * + +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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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, March 26, 1892 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: December 20, 2004 [EBook #14389] + +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>March 26, 1892.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page145" + id="page145"></a>[pg 145]</span> + + <h2>YE MODERATES OF LONDON!</h2> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/145-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/145-1.png" + alt="The Stay-at-Home Voter." /></a>The Stay-at-Home + Voter. + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Ye Moderates of London</p> + + <p class="i2">Who sat at home at ease,</p> + + <p>Ah! little did you think upon</p> + + <p class="i2">The dangerous C.C.'s!</p> + + <p>While comfort did surround you,</p> + + <p class="i2">You did not care to go</p> + + <p class="i8">To remote</p> + + <p class="i8">Spots to vote</p> + + <p>When the stormy winds did blow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The voter should have courage</p> + + <p class="i2">No danger he should shun;</p> + + <p>In every kind of weather</p> + + <p class="i2">All sorts of risks should run.</p> + + <p>Not he! So bold Progressives</p> + + <p class="i2">Will tax him, and he'll know</p> + + <p class="i8">He must pay</p> + + <p class="i8">In their way,</p> + + <p>Which is neither sure nor slow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But when the Thames Embankment,</p> + + <p class="i2">The finest road in town,</p> + + <p>Is riotous with tramcars,</p> + + <p class="i2">Will <i>that</i> make rates come + down?</p> + + <p>Will all these free arrangements,</p> + + <p class="i2">Free water, gas, do so?</p> + + <p class="i8">Oh, they may!</p> + + <p class="i8">Who can say?</p> + + <p>And the Companies may go.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>When LIDGETT and McDOUGALL</p> + + <p class="i2">Are censors of the play,</p> + + <p>We can patronise the Drama</p> + + <p class="i2">In a strictly proper way;</p> + + <p>When PARKINSON's Inspector</p> + + <p class="i2">Of Ballets, we shall know</p> + + <p class="i8">He will stop</p> + + <p class="i8">Any hop</p> + + <p>If he sees a dancer's toe.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Such grandmaternal rulers</p> + + <p class="i2">Will settle life for us,</p> + + <p>And Moderates, escaping</p> + + <p class="i2">All canvassing and fuss,</p> + + <p>Can still, from cosy firesides,</p> + + <p class="i2">Through three long years or so,</p> + + <p class="i8">Watch whereat</p> + + <p class="i8">Jumps the cat,</p> + + <p>And which way the wind does blow.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>LOCKWOOD THE LECTURER.</h3> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>["Last Tuesday Mr. FRANK LOCKWOOD, Q.C., M.P., delivered + a lecture entitled 'The Law and Lawyers of Pickwick,' to a + large gathering of the citizens of York, which place he + represents in Parliament."—<i>Daily + Telegraph</i>.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <center> + AIR—"<i>Simon the Cellarer.</i>" + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Oh, LOCKWOOD the Lecturer hath a rare store</p> + + <p class="i6">Of jo-vi-a-li-tee</p> + + <p>Of quips, and of cranks, with good stories + galore,</p> + + <p class="i6">For a cheery Q.C. is he!</p> + + <p class="i6">A cheery Q.C. and M.P.</p> + + <p>With pen and with pencil he never doth fail,</p> + + <p>And every day he hath got a fresh tale.</p> + + <p>"A Big-vig on Pig-vig," he quaintly did say,</p> + + <p>When giving his lecture at York t'other day.</p> + + <p class="i6">For Ho! ho! ho!</p> + + <p class="i6">FRANK LOCKWOOD can show</p> + + <p class="i6">How well he his DICKENS</p> + + <p class="i6">Doth know, know, know!</p> + + <p class="i10"><i>Chorus.</i>—For Ho! ho! ho! + &c.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>HOSPITALITY À LA MODE.</h2> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>["Programmes and introductions are going out of fashion + at balls."—<i>Weekly Paper</i>.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE—<i>Interior of a Drawing-room during a + dance.</i> Sprightly Damsel <i>disengaged looking out for a + partner. She addresses cheerful-looking</i> Middle-aged + Gentleman, <i>who is standing near her.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>She.</i> I am not quite sure whether I gave you + this waltz?</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Nor I. But I hope you did. I am afraid it + is nearly over, but we shall still have time for a + turn. [<i>They join the dancers.</i></p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Too many people here to-night to make + waltzing pleasant.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Yes, it is rather crowded. Shall we sit + out?</p> + + <p><i>She</i> (<i>thankfully, as he has not quite her + step.</i>) If you like. And see, the band is bringing + things to a conclusion. Don't you hate a <i>cornet</i> + in so small a room as this? So dreadfully loud, you + know.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Quite. Yes, I think it would have been + better to have kept to the piano and the strings.</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> But the place is prettily decorated. It + must have cost them a lot, getting all these + flowers.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> I daresay. No doubt they managed it by + contract. And lots of things come from Algeria + nowadays. You can get early vegetables in winter for + next to nothing.</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Yes, isn't it lovely? All these palms, I + suppose, came from the Stores.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> No doubt. By the way, do you know the + people of the house at all?</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Not much. Fact was, I was brought. + Couldn't find either the host or hostess. Such a crowd + on the staircase, you know.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Yes. Rather silly asking double the + number of people the rooms will hold, isn't it?</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Awfully. However, I suppose it pleases + some folks. I presume they consider it the swagger + thing to do?</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> I suppose they do. Do you know many + people here?</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Not a soul, or—</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> You would not have spoken to me?</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Well, no—not exactly that. + But—</p> + <p><i>He.</i> You have no better excuse ready. + Quite.</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> How rude you are! You know I didn't + quite mean that.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> No, not quite. Quite.</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> By the way, do you know what time it + is?</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Well, from the rooms getting less + crowded, I fancy it must be the supper hour. May I not + take you down?</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> You are most kind! But do you know the + way?</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> I think so. You see, I have learned the + geography of the place fairly well.</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> How fortunate! But if I accept your + kindness, I think I should have the honour of knowing + your name.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Certainly; my name is SMITH.</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Any relation of the people who are + giving the dance?</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Well, yes. I am giving the dance + myself—or rather, my wife is.</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Oh, this is quite too delightful! For + now you can tell me what to avoid.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> Certainly; and I have the pleasure of + speaking to—?</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> You must ask my <i>chaperon</i> for my + name. You know, introductions are not the fashion.</p> + + <p><i>He.</i> And your <i>chaperon</i> is—?</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> Somewhere or other. In the meanwhile, if + you will allow me?</p> + + <p><i>He</i> (<i>offering his arm</i>). Quite!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Exeunt to supper.</i></p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <h2>MR. PUNCH'S UP-TO-DATE POETRY FOR CHILDREN.</h2> + + <h3>No. 1.—"LITTLE MISS MUFFIT."</h3> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/145-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/145-2.png" + alt="Little Miss Muffit." /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i4">Little Miss MUFFIT</p> + + <p class="i4">Reposed on a tuffet,</p> + + <p>Consuming her curds and whey—</p> + + <p class="i4">She had dozens of dolls,</p> + + <p class="i4">And some cash in Consols</p> + + <p>Put by for a rainy day.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i4">But though calm and content</p> + + <p class="i4">While she drew Three per Cent.,</p> + + <p>The Conversion unsettled her mien,</p> + + <p class="i4">And she said, "Though they've thrown + us</p> + + <p class="i4">This Five-Shilling Bonus,</p> + + <p>I cannot brook Two pounds fifteen!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i4">Comes a Broker outsider—</p> + + <p class="i4">Who chanced to have spied her,</p> + + <p>And "Options" and "Pools" he extols—</p> + + <p class="i4">When he pictures the profit</p> + + <p class="i4">(Commission small off it),</p> + + <p>She cheerfully sells her Consols.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i4">Then she starts operations</p> + + <p class="i4">With fierce speculations</p> + + <p>In Stocks of all manner and shape;</p> + + <p class="i4">But whatever she chooses</p> + + <p class="i4">Her "cover" she loses,</p> + + <p>And sees it run off on the tape.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i4">So alas! for Miss MUFFIT—</p> + + <p class="i4">She now has to rough it,</p> + + <p>And never gets jam with her tea;</p> + + <p class="i4">While the Bucket-shop Dealer</p> + + <p class="i4">Employs a four-wheeler,</p> + + <p>Regardless of <i>L.</i> <i>S.</i> and <i>D.</i></p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>"The Frogs" at Oxford.</h3> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE—<i>Parlour of Private House, Oxford.</i> + TIME—<i>Quite recently.</i> Cook <i>wishes to speak + to her</i> Mistress.</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Cook.</i> Please, 'm, I should like to go out + this evening, 'm, which it's to see them Frogs at the + New Theayter.</p> + + <p><i>Mistress.</i> But it's all Greek, and you won't + understand it.</p> + + <p><i>Cook.</i> O yes, 'm. I once saw the Performin' + Fleas, and they was French, I believe, leastways a + Frenchman were showin' of 'em, and I unnerstood all as + was necessary.</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>After this, of course she obtains + permission.</i></p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <p>Mrs. Ram's Uncle (on the maternal side) has recently joined + the religious sect known as the Plymouth Brethren. This has + greatly distressed the good Lady. "If it had been anything + else," she says, "a Moravian Missionary, or a Christian + Brother-in-law, I wouldn't have minded. But to think that an + Uncle of mine should have become a Yarmouth Bloater is a little + hard on a poor woman no longer in her idolescence."</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page146" + id="page146"></a>[pg 146]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/146.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/146.png" + alt="WILFUL WILHELM." /></a> + + <h3>WILFUL WILHELM.</h3><i>An Imperial German Nursery + Rhyme. (From the very latest Edition of + "Struwwelpeter.")</i><br /> + <i>Wilful Wilhelm.</i> "TAKE THE NASTY <i>PUNCH</i> AWAY! + I WON'T HAVE ANY <i>PUNCH</i> TODAY!" + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Young WILHELM was a wilful lad,</p> + + <p>And lots of "cheek" young WILHELM had.</p> + + <p>He deemed the world should hail with joy</p> + + <p>A smart and self-sufficient boy,</p> + + <p>And do as it by <i>him</i> was told;</p> + + <p>He <i>was</i> so wise, he <i>was</i> so bold.</p> + </div> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page147" + id="page147"></a>[pg 147]</span> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>If anyone dared stop his play,</p> + + <p>He screamed out—"Take the wretch away!</p> + + <p>Oh, take my enemy away!</p> + + <p>I won't have any foes to-day!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>His old adviser WILHELM swore</p> + + <p>Was a pig-headed senile bore.</p> + + <p><i>He</i> meant to try another tack,</p> + + <p>So his Old Pilot got the sack.</p> + + <p>Nay more, one day, in a fierce squall,</p> + + <p>He smashed his picture on the wall;</p> + + <p>Tore up the papers when they said</p> + + <p>He was a little "off his head."</p> + + <p>He yelled, in his despotic way,</p> + + <p>"Not any Press for me," I say!</p> + + <p>"Oh, take that nasty <i>Punch</i> away</p> + + <p>I won't have any <i>Punch</i> to-day!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>He deemed himself, and this was odd,</p> + + <p>A sort of new Olympian god;</p> + + <p>And when the wise, who watched his whim,</p> + + <p>Sighed, "Have the gods demented him?</p> + + <p><i>Quem deus vult, et cetera</i>" he</p> + + <p>Was just as mad as mad could be;</p> + + <p>And, just like other angry boys,</p> + + <p>Kicked over tables, smashed his toys,</p> + + <p>And cried out, "Take the things away!</p> + + <p>I'll have nought but new toys to-day!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Prudence?" he yelled; "what do <i>I</i> care?"</p> + + <p>And here he kicked the old pet Bear</p> + + <p>His sire and grandsire had so cherished,</p> + + <p>Till the old policy had perished</p> + + <p>With Wilful WILHELM, who preferred</p> + + <p>The Eagles. With a pole he stirred</p> + + <p>Big Bruin up. "Oh, <i>I</i>'ll surprise him!</p> + + <p>And, if he growls, I'll 'pulverise' him."</p> + + <p>Some thought that picking rows with Bruin</p> + + <p>Meant folly, if it did not ruin;</p> + + <p>But when they whispered words of warning,</p> + + <p>Then Wilful WILHELM, counsel scorning,</p> + + <p>Shrieked, "Take the nasty brute away!</p> + + <p>I won't have any Bears to-day!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Now, WILHELM, do not be absurd,</p> + + <p>But listen to a friendly word!</p> + + <p>You are a clever boy, no doubt,</p> + + <p>And very smart, and very stout,</p> + + <p>Like young AUGUSTUS, dainty eater,</p> + + <p>Whose story is in <i>Struwwelpeter</i>.</p> + + <p>Did'st ever read those truthful stories,</p> + + <p>Good Dr. HEINRICH HOFFMANN's glories,</p> + + <p>Which round the world have travelled gaily,</p> + + <p>By Nursery pets consulted daily?</p> + + <p>If not, just get "Shock-headed PETER";</p> + + <p>Read of AUGUSTUS, the soup-eater,</p> + + <p>And stuck-up "JOHNNY Head-in-Air,"</p> + + <p>Who came down "bump" all unaware.</p> + + <p>And "Fidgety PHILIP." You'll confess them</p> + + <p>Pointed,—and don't try to suppress them,</p> + + <p>Like Princes, party-men and papers</p> + + <p>Which can't admire <i>all</i> your mad capers!</p> + + <p>My Wilful WILHELM, you'll not win</p> + + <p>By dint of mere despotic din;</p> + + <p>By kicking everybody over</p> + + <p>In whom a critic you discover,</p> + + <p>Or shouting in your furious way,</p> + + <p>"Oh, take the nasty <i>Punch</i> away!</p> + + <p>I won't have any <i>Punch</i> to-day!"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>WHAT THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF, MR. PUNCH, SAYS TO THE ARTISTS' + CORPS.—"Gentlemen, you would no doubt like a brush with + the enemy, to whom you will always show a full face. Any + colourable pretence for a skirmish won't suit your palette. You + march with the colours, and, like the oils, you will never + run.' You all look perfect pictures, and everybody must admire + your well-knit frames. Gentlemen, I do not know whether you + will take my concluding observation as a compliment or not, but + I need hardly say that it is meant to be both truthful and + complimentary, and it is this, that though you are all Artists, + you look perfect models,"</p> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:65%;"> + <a href="images/147.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/147.png" + alt="CONSCIENTIOUS." /></a> + + <h3>CONSCIENTIOUS.</h3> + + <p><i>Mr. Boozle</i> (<i>soliloquises</i>). "MY MEDICAL MAN + TOLD ME NEVER ON ANY ACCOUNT TO MIX MY WINES. SO I'LL + FINISH THE CHAMPAGNE FIRST, AND <i>THEN</i> TACKLE THE + CLARET!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>"BUTCHER'D TO MAKE—."</h3> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>[On Monday the 14th a "lion-tamer" was torn to pieces in + a show at Hednesford.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Shame to the callous French, who goad</p> + + <p>The horse that pulls a heavy load!</p> + + <p>Shame to the Spanish bull-fight! Shame</p> + + <p>To those who make of death a game!</p> + + <p>We English are a better race:</p> + + <p>We love the long and solemn face;</p> + + <p>We fly from any cheerful place,—</p> + + <p class="i10">On Sunday.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But, other days, we like a show.</p> + + <p>There may be danger, as we know;</p> + + <p>We put the thought of that aside,</p> + + <p>For noble sport is England's pride:</p> + + <p>We'd advertise a railway trip,</p> + + <p>To see a wretched tamer slip</p> + + <p>And die beneath the lion's grip,—</p> + + <p class="i10">On Monday!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>A REALLY EXCEPTIONALLY REMARKABLE AND NOTEWORTHY + FACT.—<i>To-day, Thursday, March</i> 17.—Fine + Spring weather. Have sat for over half-an-hour at a window + looking on to the street, between 3·30 and 4·15 P.M., <i>and + have not once heard either the whole or any portion of the now + strangely popular "Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay!"</i> ... As I write + this ... ha!... The grocer's book!... "Boom-de-ay" without the + "Ta-ra." The spell is broken! N.B.—As this delightful + song has now a certain number of Music-"hall-marks," the places + where it is sung can be spotted and remembered as "Ta-ra's + Halls."</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>TO THE YOUNG CITY-MEN.</h3> + + <h4>TO MAKE MUCH OF (LUNCHEON) TIME; OR, A COUNSEL TO CLERKS. + (AFTER HERRICK.)</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Gather ye fish-bones while ye may,</p> + + <p class="i2">The luncheon hour is flying,</p> + + <p>And this same cod, that's boiled to-day,</p> + + <p class="i2">To-morrow may be frying.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The handsome clock of ormolu</p> + + <p class="i2">A quarter past is showing,</p> + + <p>And soon 'twill be a quarter to,</p> + + <p class="i2">When you must think of going.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>That man eats best who eats the first,</p> + + <p class="i2">When fish and plates are warmer,</p> + + <p>But being cold, the worse and worst</p> + + <p class="i2">Fare still succeeds the former.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Then be not coy, but use your lungs,</p> + + <p class="i2">And while ye may, cry + "<i>Waiter</i>!"</p> + + <p>For having held just now your tongues,</p> + + <p class="i2">You may repent it later.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page148" + id="page148"></a>[pg 148]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <h2>FANCY + PORTRAIT.</h2><a href="images/148.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/148.png" + alt="FANCY PORTRAIT." /></a> + + <h4>THE HUMBUG-HUNTING FERRET. (<i>VIVERRA + LABOUCHERIENSIS</i>.)</h4> + + <p><i>The Times</i> (<i>loq.</i>). "AH! WONDERFUL INSTINCT, + AND OCCASIONALLY USEFUL. BUT I'M NOT PARTICULARLY PARTIAL + TO HIM!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>PONSCH, PRINCE OF OLLENDORF.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>M. Maeterlinck's very last Masterpiece.</i>)</h4> + + <p>The Belgian Master has tried, as he has already informed the + world, "to write SHAKSPEARE for a company of Marionnettes." + Encouraged by his extraordinary success, he has soared higher + yet, and adapted our greatest national drama for the purposes + of the (Independent) itinerant Stage. We are enabled by the + courtesy of his publishers to give a few specimen scenes from + this <i>magnum opus</i>, which, as will be seen, requires + somewhat more elaborate mounting and mechanical effects than + are at present afforded by the ordinary Punch Show. In M. + MAETERLINCK's version, <i>Ponsch</i> becomes the Prince of + Half-seas-over-Holland; he is the victim of hereditary + homicidal mania, complicated by neurotic hysteria. Inflamed by + the insinuations of <i>Mynheer Olenikke</i>—a kind of + Dutch <i>Mephistopheles</i> and <i>Iago</i> combined—he + is secretly jealous of his consort the <i>Princess Jödi's</i> + preference for the society of <i>Djoë</i>, the Court Jester and + Society Clown. Here is our first sample:—</p> + + <blockquote> + <p><i>A Chamber in the Castle.</i> Princess JÖDI + <i>discovered at a window with</i> DJOË.</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Jödi</i>. Lo! lo! a shower of stars is falling + upon the fowl-house!</p> + + <p><i>Djoë</i>. Oh! oh! a shower of stars upon the + fowl-house? (<i>A water pipe in the back-garden bursts + suddenly and splashes them.</i>) Ah! ah! I am wet all + over! Have you a pocket handkerchief?</p> + + <p><i>Jödi</i>. Oh, look! a comet—an enormous + one—has descended into the water-butt! The sky is + blood-red, and the moon has turned the colour of green + cheese. This bodes some disaster!</p> + + <p><i>Djoë</i>. It is + unsettled—rainy—unpleasant weather. Can you + lend me an umbrella?</p> + + <p><i>Jödi</i>. I cannot lend you an umbrella, because + I have lent mine to the gardener's wife. Owls are + roosting on the chimney-pots, and a stickleback has + jumped out of the pond. Hush, my Lord the Prince + approaches!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[Prince PONSCH <i>enters, bearing a stout staff, which + he nurses gloomily, like an infant; a hurricane is heard in + the middle distance; the waterpipe sobs strangely and then + expires; a blackbeetle comes out of a cupboard and runs + uneasily about, until a flash of lightning enters down the + chimney and kills it.</i> PONSCH <i>stands glaring at</i> + DJOË <i>and the</i> Princess.</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Djoë</i> (<i>hastily</i>). There is going to be a + storm. Do not forget what I have uttered. Good + evening!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>He goes; the wind whistles a popular air through the + keyhole.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Jödi</i> (<i>nervously</i>). What an appalling + evening! I have never seen the like of such a sky.</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. There is something about you this + evening—how beautiful you are looking! Bring + BEBBI-PONSCH.</p> + + <p><i>Jödi</i> (<i>fetching the Infant Prince</i>). + Here he is. Why do you look so strangely at him?</p> + + <p><i>Bebbi-Ponsch</i> (<i>a small, but important + part</i>). Is Pa-a-par poo-oorly? Won't he p'ay wiz me + no mo-ore?</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. The soul of a little stage-child + looms from under his green eyes! OLENIKKE was right, + and I— No matter. I will open the window.</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Opens it, and throws</i> BEBBI-P. <i>out. Sound of + water-splash audible.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Jödi</i>. Oh my! Oh my! What have you done? He + has fallen right into the moat—on one of the + swans!</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. Indeed—on one of the swans? + (<i>A pot of mignonnette is blown off the window-sill + by a gust.</i>) I will close the window. (<i>Closes it; + a hailstorm beats on the panes.</i>) Is that really a + hailstorm—or only birds?</p> + + <p><i>Jödi</i>. I can hear nothing. (P. <i>strikes her + suddenly on the head with staff.</i>) Someone is + knocking at my door. Come in! I cannot see anything + now.</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. Can you, indeed, see nothing? [<i>He + strikes her again.</i></p> + + <p><i>Jödi</i>. Now I can see stars. I feel as if + purple mills were going round in my head. I shall never + kiss anybody any more. Oh! oh! oh! [<i>She + dies.</i></p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. She was a beautiful woman, do you + know? Oh, how lonely I shall feel hereafter! (<i>A + black dog is heard scratching and sniffing outside the + door.</i>) It is only Tobbi. Someone has trod on your + toe, my poor Tobbi. Come in. Give me your paw. + (<i>Tobbi enters, and flies suddenly at his nose.</i>) + Oh, my nose is bleeding! Let us go to the pond. I do + not know why I feel so melancholy this evening. [<i>He + goes out, pursued by Tobbi.</i></p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>SAMPLE No. II.—<i>A Hall in Castle Ollendorff. A + Marionnette Theatre at the back of Stage.</i> DJOË, + <i>a</i> Belgian Bedell, <i>and</i> Dutch Dolls-in-waiting + <i>discovered.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Djoë</i>. Green flames are running along the + walls, and blue globes are bounding about the back + garden. I have never seen such a night. Here comes the + Prince.</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Enter</i> PONSCH, <i>conscience-stricken; all + bow.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. I am not melancholy, but I have + hardly any hair. Let the Play commence!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p><i>Curtain of Marionnette Show rises; a</i> Clown <i>is + seen chasing a butterfly.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>A Councillor</i>. Oh! oh! oh! [<i>Uproar; the</i> + Clown and Butterfly <i>are withdrawn. A</i> Skeleton + <i>appears on the Stage, and dances his head and limbs + off in a blue light.</i></p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i> (<i>rising</i>). That was done + purposely! You are driving at something. Confess it! Is + there no topic more cheerful? I cannot bear it any + longer!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Knocks down</i> DJOË <i>with his staff. A combat, + during which</i> DJOË <i>several times obtains possession + of the weapon, and wounds</i> PONSCH. N.B.—<i>Note + the striking resemblance here to the similar, but very + inferior, Scenes in "Hamlet."</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>The Dutch Dolls</i> (<i>running about</i>). Both + of them bleeding already! There's blood on the walls + already! Already blood on the walls! (&c.).</p> + + <p><i>The Bedell</i>. The Prince has slain DJOË. Take + him into custody.</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[PONSCH <i>strikes the</i> Bedell <i>down.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>The B.</i> Ha! ha! ha! (<i>Tries to + rise—but is struck again</i>). Ha! ha! (PONSCH + <i>strikes once more.</i>) Ha!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>The</i> Bedell <i>dies; a draught enters under the + door and blows out two of the candles; a thunderbolt is + heard coming down-stairs, and the</i> Ghost of JÖDI + <i>suddenly appears from behind a tapestry representing + "The Finding of Moses."</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Ponsch</i> (<i>to</i> Ghost). Have you any + hearse-plumes at hand? Do not be angry with me. Can you + hear my teeth? I am only a poor little old man. Will + you please undo my necktie? (<i>cf.</i> "<i>King + Lear</i>"). Let us go to breakfast. Will there be + muffins for breakfast?</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Exit, leaning heavily on</i> Ghost's <i>arm.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>The Dutch Dolls</i> (<i>with conviction</i>). One + more such night as this, and all our heads would have + gone bald!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>SAMPLE No. III.—<i>The Courtyard with a scaffold + and gibbet. A blood-red moon is sailing amid the + currant-bushes, and a shower of stars proceeds + uninterruptedly.</i> PONSCH <i>discovered looking through + the fatal noose.</i></p> + </blockquote><span class="pagenum"><a name="page149" + id="page149"></a>[pg 149]</span> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Djakketch</i> (<i>the Court Executioner</i>). Can + you see anything through the loop?</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. Not yet. I cannot see the audience + anywhere.</p> + + <p><i>Djak.</i> No; we are probably above the heads of + the audience. But can't you distinguish Mr. WILLIAM + SHAKSPEARE?</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. Wait one moment. No, I cannot see Mr. + SHAKSPEARE anywhere.</p> + + <p><i>Djak.</i> Because he has had to take a back seat. + Look again. Can you see nothing?</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. I can make out an omnibus in the + street. It is green.</p> + + <p><i>Djak.</i> Ay, ay! A Bayswater 'bus. They + <i>are</i> green. But don't you see any of the general + public?</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. I can see Mr. WILLIAM ARCHER, and + some new Critics, and unconventional Dramatists. They + are following the text with books of the Play. But + there are no more errand-boys with baskets.</p> + + <p><i>Djak.</i> This is wonderful. No more errand-boys + with baskets?</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. No more small children with + babies!</p> + + <p><i>Djak.</i> No more small children? Do pray let + <i>me</i> look. (PONSCH <i>retires, and</i> DJAKKETCH + <i>puts his head through the loop</i>.) Oh, I can see + plainly now. There is not a single spectator left. They + have all been bored to death!</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. All bored to death? Now then, lift + your head a little, and I will fondle you. [<i>Pulls + the cord towards himself.</i></p> + + <p><i>Djak.</i> Oh, what have you put round my neck? Oh + me! You are going to ... oh, you <i>are</i>!</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. Oh, I <i>am</i>!</p> + + <p><i>Djak.</i> Then—oh!</p> + + <p><i>Ponsch</i>. Oh!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Exeunt all, except</i> DJAKKETCH, <i>who ceases + kicking gradually. A peacock is heard warbling in a + cemetery round the corner; a barn-door fowl jumps on a + wheelbarrow, and crows.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <center> + FINIS. + </center> + <hr /> + + <h2>HORACE IN LONDON.</h2> + + <h4>TO A CRUSTED OLD PORT. (<i>AD AMPHORAM</i>.)</h4> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/149-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/149-1.png" + alt="Horace in London." /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Old liquor born on my birthday, a twin to me,</p> + + <p>Whether ordained wit and mirth to put into me,</p> + + <p class="i2">Or passions that witch and defy us,</p> + + <p class="i4">Or, peradventure, the sleep of the + pious.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Vaunt not its shippers, my friend, but produce + it—an</p> + + <p>Actual, "forty-five," languorous Lusitan,</p> + + <p class="i2">Befitting, whate'er be its label,</p> + + <p class="i4">You, my good host, and the guest at your + table.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Steeped though you frown in this dryasdust clever + age,</p> + + <p>Dare you presume to resist such a beverage?</p> + + <p class="i2">Why, ELDON, that dragon of virtue,</p> + + <p class="i4">Never imagined its vintage could hurt + you.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Liquor like this from a bottle whose crust is + whole,</p> + + <p>Liquor like this rubs the rust from the rusty + soul;</p> + + <p class="i2">The faddist it mellows: the private</p> + + <p class="i4">Secrets of State it can somehow arrive + at.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Under its spell frolics Hypochondriasis;</p> + + <p>Poverty learns what a millionnaire's bias is,</p> + + <p class="i2">Yes, Poverty, such a spell under,</p> + + <p class="i4">Laughs at the County Court's impotent + thunder.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Fill, then! A bumper we'll empty between us to</p> + + <p>Bacchus, the <i>Pas-de-trois</i> Graces, and Venus + too,</p> + + <p class="i2">With all of that classical ilk, + man—</p> + + <p class="i4">Till the stars fade with the morn and the + milkman.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>THE "TA-RA-RA" BOOM.</h3> + + <h4>(<i>By Our Own Melancholy Muser.</i>)</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I am shrouded in impenetrable + <i>gloom</i>-de-ay,</p> + + <p>For I feel I'm being driven to my + <i>doom</i>-de-ay,</p> + + <p class="i4">By an aggravating ditty</p> + + <p class="i4">Which I don't consider witty;</p> + + <p>And they call the horrid thing, + "Ta-ra-ra-<i>boom-de-ay</i>!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Every 'bus-conductor, errand-boy, and + <i>groom</i>-de-ay,</p> + + <p>City clerk, and cheeky crossing-sweep with + <i>broom</i>-de-ay</p> + + <p class="i4">Makes my nervous system bristle</p> + + <p class="i4">As he tries to sing or whistle</p> + + <p>That atrocious and absurd + "Ta-ra-ra-<i>boom</i>-de-ay!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So I sit in the seclusion of my + <i>room</i>-de-ay,</p> + + <p>And deny myself to all—no matter + <i>whom</i>-de-ay—</p> + + <p class="i4">For I dread a creature coming</p> + + <p class="i4">Whose involuntary humming</p> + + <p>May assume the fatal form, + "Ta-ra-ra-<i>boom</i>-de-ay!"</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Oh, I fear that when the Summer roses + <i>bloom</i>-de-ay,</p> + + <p>You will read upon a well-appointed <i>tomb</i>-de + ay:—</p> + + <p class="i4">"Influenza never lick'd him,</p> + + <p class="i4">But he fell an easy victim</p> + + <p>To that universal + scourge—'Ta-ra-ra-<i>boom</i>-de-ay!'"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + + <p>One of the Baron's Assistant Readers has been reading a + really interesting, well written novel in two volumes, by MARY + BRADFORD-WHITING. It is called <i>Denis O'Neil</i>, and tells + of the adventures of a young Irish Doctor who gets entangled in + the plots of one of those Secret Societies that used to exist + in "the most distressful country that ever yet was seen," some + twenty years ago. The romance contains some clever sketches of + character. The story (published by BENTLEY) ends sadly, and + those who want to find fault with it will say it is too + short.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/149-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/149-2.png" + alt="Our Competition Novel.—Competitors at Work." /> + </a>Our Competition Novel.—Competitors at Work. + </div> + + <p>The Leadenhall Press,—immortalised by its invention of + that invaluable work of art, "The Hairless Author's Paper Pad," + which the Baron herewith and hereby strongly recommends to Mr. + GLADSTONE, who has so much writing to do with a pad on his + knee, and for this purpose Mr. G. would find this the "<i>knee + plus ultra</i>" of inventions,—this same Leadenhall Press + has recently published a story without a title, offering a + reward of £100 to any individual, or to be divided between such + individuals, as may guess it. The story is in effect about a + youth who lost his right eye in fighting another boy, and who + subsequently revenged himself by depriving his antagonist of an + eye by a violent stroke at Lawn-tennis. What can be the title? + The Baron has had the following suggestions made to + him:—"Eye for an Eye," "The Egotist," "My Eye!" "Aye! + aye!" "Ocular Demonstration," "A Man of One Eye-dear!" "Eyes + Righted," "One Left," "The Other Eye," "Two Pupils and One + Eye," "You and Eye," "The Eyes Have It." The Baron "winks the + other eye," and will be very glad should any hint of his have + assisted a deserving person to gain the reward offered by Mr. + TUER. <i>En attendant</i> the Baron has hit upon a still more + novel idea. He will write some contributions towards short + stories, and his readers shall finish them. The terms will be + these:—The Baron commences a chapter, or a few lines of + it, and leaves it unfinished, then his readers shall finish the + sentence, and sometimes the chapter, for themselves. If the + sentence, or the chapter, as the case may be, <i>shall turn out + to be exactly what the Baron would have written had he + continued it, then he, the Baron, will award</i> £100 <i>to the + successful candidate, or will award a division of that sum + among the successful candidates. Every competitor shall pay the + Baron</i> £50. <i>And to insure such payment, each competitor's + cheque for this amount must accompany his or her + contribution.</i></p> + + <p>EXAMPLE.—<i>CHAPTER I.—The harvest-moon was + slowly rising. The heather, dried and burnt by the mid-day sun, + appeared, to the eye unaccustomed to this aspect of the + country, to be merely a rugged divergence from the main road. + Descending carefully from his dog-cart, a small man in a big + coat, muffled up to the eyes, proceeded leisurely + to—</i></p> + + <p>Now, then, <i>what</i> did he leisurely proceed to do? + There's a fortune in it!—somewhere!—says</p> + + <p class="author">THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page150" + id="page150"></a>[pg 150]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/150.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/150.png" + alt="STUDIES IN ANIMAL LIFE." /></a> + + <h3>STUDIES IN ANIMAL LIFE.</h3> + + <h4>THE GOORMONG. (<i>Epicuri de Grege Porcus. British + Isles.</i>)</h4> + + <p><i>Mr. Huggins.</i> "<i>WHAT</i> A 'EAVENLY DINNER IT + WAS!"</p> + + <p><i>Mr. Buggins.</i> "B'LIEVE YER! MYKES YER WISH YER WAS + BORN 'OLLER!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>SPRING TIME IN LEAP YEAR;</h2> + + <h3>OR, THE JOLLY BATHERS.</h3> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>First Jolly Bather</i> (<i>singing, + quaveringly</i>):—</p> + + <p class="i8">Spring's delights are now + revi-i-i-vi-i-i-ng,</p> + + <p class="i10">Verdant leaflets deck each spr-a-ay!</p> + + <p><i>Second Jolly Bather</i> (<i>impatiently</i>). + <i>Don't</i>, ARTHUR, make that row! B-r-r-r! + (<i>Shivers.</i>) Spring's <i>delights</i>, indeed! And + as to the "verdant leaflets" (unless you mean election + squibs), where <i>are</i> they?</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto.</i> Ah, "verdant leaflets" not a bad + name for Financial Reform tracts, <i>et id genus + omne</i>. Touch of your old satirical + Saturday-Reviewish style there, Nunky!</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i> (<i>hastily</i>). Oh, bother! + What are we here for?</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i> (<i>coolly</i>). Why, to + <i>bathe</i>, I presume.</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto.</i> Bah! One would think, ARTHUR, + we belonged to that society of lunatics who make a + point of taking a matutinal plunge in the Serpentine + every morning, all the year round, <i>even if they have + to break the ice to do it</i>! Ineffable idiots! + [<i>Curls up.</i></p> + + <p><i>First Ditto.</i> Well, we may as well put a good + face on it, Uncle.</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Grimaces.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. Ah, yes, you can say + so—at <i>your</i> age, ARTHUR. I like my morning + tub in my bath-room—with the chill off.</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Wraps his towel round his neck.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. (<i>Sings again, + tremolo</i>):—</p> + + <p class="i8">Why linger shivering on the brink,</p> + + <p class="i10">And fear to launch away?</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i> (<i>sharply</i>). Why, you're at + it again, ARTHUR! And a Conventicler's hymn, too, this + time. I'm a-a-shamed of you.</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. Ah! that's what LABOUCHERE, + O'KELLY, CONYBEARE, and Company say! <i>I</i> don't + mind; in fact, as I told 'em, I rather like it. Does me + a world of good.</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i> (<i>admiringly</i>). Ah! you + <i>have</i> got a nerve, ARTHUR. I <i>will</i> say that + for you. Still, you've been giving them something to + "guy" you about lately, you know.</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i> (<i>sharply</i>). Ah! have I? + Well, "I can assure you that I am the last person in + the world to object to a process from which I have + profited so much."</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. Oh, yes, that was all very well + for them, over yonder. In fact, I own it was rather + neatly put.</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i> (<i>slily</i>). Didn't "lack + finish," was sufficiently "<i>ad unguem</i>," eh, + Nunky?</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i> (<i>moodily</i>). Ah! what do + you youngsters know about those fine old fighting days? + I didn't love DIZZY, but he was a neat hand with the + foils, boy.</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. Especially in a bout with a + friend,—with the buttons off. But I say, this + isn't bathing, you know!</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. No. (<i>Eyeing the stream + distastefully.</i>) Hadn't we better postpone the + pleasure till a little later in the season, ARTHUR. + When those "Spring's delights" of which you melodiously + twangle are a leetle more <i>en évidence</i>.</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i> (<i>pipes</i>). Hawthorn buds + give joyful tidings.</p> + + <p class="i8">Welcome, youths, 'tis bright + bath-day!</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. Ah! if we're here to do the + Eclogue business, STREPHON can take his turn, as well + as CORYDON. [<i>Sings.</i></p> + + <p class="i8">Let us plunge into the + ri-i-i-v-e-e-r!</p> + + <p class="i10">Leave our vesture on the bank!</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. Bless me, STREPHON, how you + shi-i-v-e-e-r!</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. 'Tis like a fishmonger's + tank!</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. Pooh! 'tis lovely—when + you're in it;</p> + + <p class="i8">One bold header, and 'tis done!</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. Ah, quite so, but—wait a + minute,</p> + + <p class="i10">Till I've warmed me with a run.</p> + + <p class="i8">That will stir my circulation;</p> + + <p class="i10">For the moment I am "friz."</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. <i>Magnifique!</i> my dear + relation;</p> + + <p class="i8">But, you'll own, it is not "biz."</p> + + <p><i>Both</i>. We must o-o-o-ow-n it is not "biz!"</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. Well, no, I suppose it isn't, + ARTHUR. By the way, what's that row behind there?</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. (<i>looking</i>). By Jove! it's + that Gladstone gang! They've tracked us! + (<i>Sings</i>)—</p> + + <p class="i8">They're after us! They're after us!</p> + + <p class="i10"><i>We</i>'re the individuals they + require.</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. (<i>sardonically</i>). What a + lyric <i>répertoire</i> you have, ARTHUR! Old English + glee, Puritan psalmody. Music-hall song, all come + equally well to you, it seems. But those roughs mean + mischief, Nephew mine!</p> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page151" + id="page151"></a>[pg 151]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/151.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/151.png" + alt="SPRING TIME IN LEAP YEAR." /></a> + + <h3>SPRING TIME IN LEAP YEAR.</h3>SALISBURY. "DON'T YOU + THINK, NEPHEW ARTHUR, WE'D BETTER + <i>PLUNGE</i>—BEFORE WE'RE <i>PUSHED</i>?" + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page153" + id="page153"></a>[pg 153]</span> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. Doubtless! They always do. And + they've done some lately, drat them! I say, wouldn't + they like <i>to shove us in</i>, as they did the old + witches, <i>to see if we can swim</i>?</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. By Jove! I shouldn't wonder if + they tried. Don't you think, ARTHUR, (<i>valiantly</i>) + it would be better, more manly, and more politic, + perchance, <i>to plunge in than to be pushed</i>?</p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i> (<i>drily</i>). Ah! just as the + brave sheep—</p> + + <p class="i8">"Committed suicide to save themselves + from slaughter."</p> + + <p><i>Second Ditto</i>. Oh, hang your quotations! Happy + omen! 'Tis Leap Year, is it not? Just a leap; though, + like DERBY's, it be "in the dark," and—well, + <i>we shall know where we are, anyhow!</i></p> + + <p><i>First Ditto</i>. Ah, just so; and that's + something!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Left considering.</i></p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/153-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/153-1.png" + alt="TEMPTATION." /></a> + + <h3>TEMPTATION.</h3> + + <p><i>Hairdresser</i>. "ANY <i>BAY-RUM</i>, SIR?"</p> + + <p><i>Middy</i>. "THANK YOU—A—NO! NOT QUITE so + EARLY IN THE MORNING—YOU KNOW!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>"CLERK ME NO CLERKS."</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i4">It seems Sir E.C., Q.C., likes</p> + + <p class="i6">The blatant, brazen, Boothian band,</p> + + <p class="i4">Admires "abstaining" zeal that + strikes</p> + + <p class="i6">The biggest drum with boldest hand.</p> + + <p>He says, "You must not judge some others' case</p> + + <p>By tastes much more refined," less commonplace.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i4">Yet, as Sir EDWARD disagrees</p> + + <p class="i6">With those whose tastes he thus + divined,</p> + + <p class="i4">It's manifestly clear he sees</p> + + <p class="i6"><i>His</i> taste in music's not + "refined."</p> + + <p>'Twas written long ago by CHAUCER's pen,</p> + + <p>"The gretest clerkes ben not the wisest men."</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>"MY DEAR EYES! WHAT! SEE-USAN!"</h2> + + <p>At the Prince of Wales's, Mr. ARTHUR ROBERTS, as <i>Captain + Crosstree</i>, is more ARTHUR ROBERTS than ever, and, + consequently, immensely droll. While he is on the stage, the + audience is convulsed with spasmodic laughter, excepting when + he tries to forget himself and his drollery in a loyal attempt + at doing justice to Messrs. SIMS' AND PETTITT's words, and to + the serious business of some situation intended to be dramatic. + At such moments the laughter of the House is checked, a sudden + gloom comes over the faces that were but now on the broad grin, + even the lineaments of Mr. ROBERTS become agonised, and the + audience, like <i>Christopher Sly</i> when bored by the Duke's + players, mutter to themselves, "would t'were done." But these + painful seconds, which, at the time, seem hours, are, we are + glad to say, but brief and passing shadows over Mr. ROBERTS' + own quaint humour which speedily reasserts itself, and, the + Pettitt-and-Sims fetters being cast aside, the People's ARTHUR + is himself again, and more so than ever. And, when he <i>is</i> + himself, he is simply the most absurd person that ever faced + the footlights.</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/153-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/153-2.png" + alt="Arthur Roberts and Arthur Williams." /> + </a><i>Arthur Roberts</i> (<i>to Arthur Williams</i>). + "The boat's getting along nicely, now we've got rid of + some of the heavy cargo." + </div> + + <p>Miss NELLIE STEWART is a pretty singing, dancing, twisting, + twirling <i>Susan</i>. But what induced handsome Miss MARION + BURTON, once so gay and sprightly as <i>Cherubino</i> in <i>Le + Nozze di Figaro</i>, to essay this musically dreary part of + <i>William</i>, and, further, to wear a costume about as unlike + that of the nautical and traditional <i>William</i> as can well + be imagined, is a puzzle to anyone who knows what she + <i>has</i> done and <i>can</i> do. Not a bit of dash in the + character; all the good old conventional British Tar taken + right out of it. She can indeed say with the fool in <i>The + Yeomen of the Guard</i>, "I've got a song to sing, oh!" for she + has two or three, but her "voice is wasted on the desert air," + as they go for nothing, and therefore probably nobody else + could make them go for anything.</p> + + <p>Mr. ARTHUR WILLIAMS is funny, but his Variety Show scene, + with soliloquy and song, is too long; or rather, it would not + be too long, if the piece were only cut down to a two hours' + entertainment.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/153-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/153-3.png" + alt="A Mug of Burton." /></a>A Mug of Burton. + </div> + + <p>Let this "Comic Opera," for so is it described in the bills, + be cut down as ruthlessly, but not as blindly, as + <i>William</i> cut down <i>Crosstree</i>; let something + catching be substituted for most of the music of the First + Act,—specially omitting the "Why, certainly!" + interpolation, which is a feeble but evident imitation of Mr. + W.S. GILBERT's classic "What, never?" "Well, hardly ever;" let + the music of the Second Act be taken out by handfuls, and, if + possible, let what remains be replaced by something sparkling; + then, with less of sweet but sad <i>William</i>—for the + present version of the part is quite "BURTON's <i>Anatomy of + Melancholy</i>,"—with less of fascinating but squirming + <i>Susan</i>, far less of minor characters generally, and more, + by comparison, of the two MACS—meaning the two ARTHURS + with the plural names ROBERTS and WILLIAMS,—also a + telling song for Mr. CHAUNCEY OLCOTT (whose singing now wins an + <i>encore</i> for an indifferent ballad),—with the + Captain's-giggy hornpipe of Mr. WILLIE WARD retained, as also + the graceful dancing of Miss KATIE SEYMOUR, and then, omitting + as much of the plot and authors' written dialogue as can be + conveniently spared,—very little of it would be + missed,—there is no rhyme or reason why <i>Blue-Eyed + Susan</i> should not run on as a Variety Entertainment for any + number of nights and days, during which fresh material can be + constantly substituted by Messrs. ROBERTS & Co. of the + Drollery Company, Unlimited, without racking the fertile brains + of Messrs. PETTITT AND SIMS.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page154" + id="page154"></a>[pg 154]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/154.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/154.png" + alt="<h3>THE SALVATION HOUSE OF COMMONS. OUR PARLIAMENTARY ARTIST'S DREAM, MARCH 10." /> + </a> + + <h3>THE SALVATION HOUSE OF COMMONS. OUR PARLIAMENTARY + ARTIST'S DREAM, MARCH 10.</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page155" + id="page155"></a>[pg 155]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/155-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/155-1.png" + alt="ONE FOR HIM." /></a> + + <h3>ONE FOR HIM.</h3> + + <p><i>Major Spooneleigh</i>. "AND YOU RIDE SO WELL, + AND—ER—YOU DRIVE SO WONDERFULLY WELL, + AND—ER—YOU DANCE SO—ER—BEAUTIFULLY, + AND YOU—ER—PLAY LAWN-TENNIS + SO—ER—EXQUISITELY, AND—ER—OF COURSE + YOU FISH ALSO?"</p> + + <p><i>Mrs. Dasher</i>. "NEVER FOR COMPLIMENTS, I ASSURE + YOU; AND CERTAINLY NOT IN SHALLOW WATERS!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + + <h4>EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</h4> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:25%;"> + <a href="images/155-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/155-2.png" + alt="Chief Secretary." /></a>Chief Secretary. + </div> + + <p><i>House of Commons, Monday, March</i> 14.—JACKSON + turned up to-night answering questions from Irish Members. This + reminds us he's Irish Secretary. Been so of course since + Parliament met; but quite forgotten it. Mention this to the + SPEAKER who looked a little dull while Captain PRICE was + discoursing on Navy Affairs in Committee of Supply. So went up + to have a little chat with him in the Chair.</p> + + <p>"My dear TOBY," he said, "I don't know whether you meant it, + but you've paid JACKSON the highest compliment it is possible + to convey. When in these times the CHIEF SECRETARY so manages + to conduct business of his department that he himself is + temporarily forgotten, he's doing it surpassingly well. My big + brother ROBERT was once Chief Secretary, though perhaps you + forget that also. He resigned because, as he said, there was + not enough work to keep an active man going. That was long time + ago. I daresay you had no chance of forgetting during the last + five years that Prince ARTHUR was Chief Secretary?"</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:22%;"> + <a href="images/155-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/155-3.png" + alt="T.P. Gill." /></a>T.P. Gill. + </div> + + <p>Cannot claim to have invented the compliment the SPEAKER + discerned; merely mentioning matter of fact; but, as he says, + when in these days a Chief Secretary manages to get himself + forgotten, the wheels at the Irish Office must be going pretty + smoothly. JACKSON has not brought about this miraculous change + by laying himself out to flatter or court Irish Members. He is + exactly the same as he was when he filled office of Financial + Secretary; doubtless the same as when he looked after his + tanyard in Yorkshire. Goes straight to the point in simple + unaffected business manner that ruffles no sensibilities. Fancy + he could tan a hide in such a way that it would not feel any + resentment.</p> + + <p>A predecessor at the Irish Office who succeeded, in more + troublesome times, in living on peaceable terms with Irish + Members, was CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN. Irish Members, swift judges of + character, taking measure of both, came to conclusion nothing + to be gained by rowing round them. What killed FORSTER, and + turned GEORGE TREVELYAN's hair grey, made CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN + smile—not an offensive smile, but one of interested + amusement. JACKSON's sense of humour not so keen, but his + imperturbability even more impregnable. If Irish Member trailed + his coat before him, JACKSON would say, "My dear fellow, won't + you get cold? Let me help you on with your coat."</p> + + <p>SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, a judge on this particular point, says + the MARKISS missed the greatest chance he has had for six + months in not putting JACKSON in place of OLD MORALITY.</p> + + <p>"Precious good thing for us, TOBY," says the SQUIRE, "that + he didn't. JACKSON the very model + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page156" + id="page156"></a>[pg 156]</span> of a Leader of House, and + Prince ARTHUR—well he's Prince ARTHUR."</p> + + <p>"But I suppose you don't mean," I venture to ask, "that + JACKSON is the exclusive type of a successful Leader?"</p> + + <p>"No," says the SQUIRE, with a far-away look.</p> + + <p><i>Business done.</i>—Two Votes in Supply.</p> + + <p><i>Tuesday.</i>—Spent doleful afternoon in Committee + of Supply. Circumstances call upon Members below Gangway, + Radicals or Irishmen, to come to front, and make at least show + of doing something. SAGE OF QUEEN ANNE'S GATE pricks up his + ears when Chairman puts question to allow £6 7<i>s.</i> + 11<i>d.</i> on account of Sheerness Police Court. Why should + Northampton contribute its quota, however small, to expenses of + Sheerness Police Court? Debate and Division; after which, the + SAGE retired to smoke cigarette through rest of afternoon, and + discuss probable date of Dissolution.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/156.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/156.png" + alt="The Storm in the Reform Club Tea-Cup." /></a>The + Storm in the Reform Club Tea-Cup. + </div> + + <p>Then Irish Members come on. Cream seems spooned off the mass + in preparation for festivities on St. Patrick's Day, and only + the skimmest of skim milk left. WEBB wobbles to the front; + talks out vote for Chicago Royal Committee, although + ATTORNEY-GENERAL tells him it will be all right as to Irish + interests; being now close upon ten minutes to seven, when + Committee must adjourn, WEBSTER hasn't time to make detailed + explanations, but promises to do so on Report. WEBB maunders on + all the same, and Vote postponed.</p> + + <p>Great day for FLYNN. TIM HEALY thinks he's pretty smart as a + debater; SEXTON believes he knows a thing or two; O'BRIEN is + understood to be something of an orator. FLYNN will show House + how all these qualities may be combined in one man. Does it by + the tiresome twenty minutes, the lamentable half-hour; popping + up on every question with comically judicial air; talking on + with fatal feeble flatulent fluency, whilst GILL sits nursing + his hat awaiting his turn.</p> + + <p>Alack for Irish humour, eloquence and deviltry, that it + should come to this!</p> + + <p>Whilst FLYNN once again turns on the tap of his tepid + dish-water, news comes that Lord HAMPDEN died this morning in + far-off Pau. HAMPDEN was the BRAND who sat in Chair during + Parliament of 1874, and wrestled nightly with the "bhoys" when + they were in their prime—MAJOR O'GORMAN rollicking + through the night; JOSEPH GILLIS with lean hand outstretched + and his "It seems to me, MR. SPEAKER"; PARNELL in the white + heat of passion; DELAHUNTY with his One Pound Notes, and poor + MCCARTHY DOWNING with his scared look and his indescribable but + unmistakable air of one accustomed to frequent the best society + in Skibbereen.</p> + + <p>After a fourth speech from FLYNN, with another to follow + from WEBB, one almost envies the EX-SPEAKER lying at rest at + the foot of the Pyrenees.</p> + + <p><i>Business done.</i>—A few Votes in Supply.</p> + + <p><i>Thursday.</i>—St. Patrick's Day in the evening. + Irish Members rose to occasion; indeed, at one time O'KELLY and + JOHN O'CONNOR rose together; remained on their legs in defiance + of Standing Orders and angry protest of Chairman. Seemed as if + someone must be suspended <i>pour encourager les autres</i>. + Storm suddenly stilled; rising passion subdued by appearance of + ALPHEUS CLEOPHAS on the scene, wanting to know about the + Refreshment-bar in the Lobby. which, he said, was lowering to + the dignity and respectability of House.</p> + + <p><i>Friday</i> 12·15 A.M.—All this in Committee of + Supply, which came to end at midnight. Then Report of Supply + brought on; uproar renewed; Vote for Irish Teachers' Pension + Fund under discussion. Irish Members mysteriously disappeared; + SEXTON, understood to have ready prodigious speech on the + subject, nowhere to be found. "JOHN O'CONNOR," NOLAN hoarsely + whispered, "you have the longest legs in the Party; go and look + up the bhoys, and I'll talk."</p> + + <p>Silently but swiftly LONG JOHN stole forth on his mission; + NOLAN nobly performed his part. At end of forty minutes' + breathless talk, the Colonel, feeling his mouth growing + parched, moved adjournment of House. SPEAKER didn't recognise + relevancy of argument; declined to put the question.</p> + + <p>"The Hon. Member," he said, "has spoken for forty minutes, + and not given a single reason in favour of his proposal."</p> + + <p>"I was coming to that point," said NOLAN, "and, if it is + quite in order, I will now approach it."</p> + + <p>Ruled out of order. LONG JOHN, back from his foray, in + course of which had hunted up SEXTON, threw himself into + breach; moved the adjournment for irresistible reason.</p> + + <p>"I object," he said, "to this important subject being dealt + with at nearly one o'clock in the morning on St. Patrick's + night."</p> + + <p>T.W. RUSSELL, condoled with his compatriots below Gangway on + difficulties of situation. "Certainly hard," he said, "that on + St. Patrick's night they should be called upon to discuss + questions involving facts and figures." BALFOUR opposed + adjournment; CONYBEARE strode in; commenced what promised to be + long speech; Prince ARTHUR moved Closure; carried by nearly a + hundred majority.</p> + + <p>1·35 A.M.—House just back after division on question + of adjournment; Ministerialists in full muster and full of + fight; 41 for adjournment, 121 against. As if nothing been said + during previous hour-and-half, ILLINGWORTH urges Prince ARTHUR + to concede adjournment; PRINCE ARTHUR rises to reply. Irish + Members, pulling themselves together, walk steadily out, amid + ribald laughter from Ministerialists. Once more the CURSE OF + CAMBOURNE turns up. This seems, quite naturally, to suggest the + Closure; sort of automatic procedure; CONYBEARE—Closure. + One more division just to wind up, and at ten minutes past two + Vote carried and House up.</p> + + <p><i>Business done.</i>—Revival of old times.</p> + + <p><i>Saturday</i>, 1·20 A.M.—House just up, after + prolonged wrangle, lasting, with interval for dinner, straight + through from two o'clock yesterday afternoon. Met then for + Morning Sitting designed to make progress with financial + business. For four hours disputed how business was to be + arranged. This left one hour for doing it. Sitting suspended at + seven, resumed at nine.</p> + + <p>At it again talking about Royalties on Gold in Wales. + Domestic Policy in Zululand, the Irish Question in the Falkland + Islands, and Parliamentary Reporting. All this led gently up to + passing Vote on Account; a conclusion finally arrived at with + the assistance of the Closure.</p> + + <p><i>Business done.</i>—Vote on Account taken.</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, March 26, 1892, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 14389-h.htm or 14389-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/3/8/14389/ + +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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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, March 26, 1892 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: December 20, 2004 [EBook #14389] + +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. + + + +March 26, 1892. + + + + +YE MODERATES OF LONDON! + +[Illustration: The Stay-at-Home Voter.] + + Ye Moderates of London + Who sat at home at ease, + Ah! little did you think upon + The dangerous C.C.'s! + While comfort did surround you, + You did not care to go + To remote + Spots to vote + When the stormy winds did blow. + + The voter should have courage + No danger he should shun; + In every kind of weather + All sorts of risks should run. + Not he! So bold Progressives + Will tax him, and he'll know + He must pay + In their way, + Which is neither sure nor slow. + + But when the Thames Embankment, + The finest road in town, + Is riotous with tramcars, + Will _that_ make rates come down? + Will all these free arrangements, + Free water, gas, do so? + Oh, they may! + Who can say? + And the Companies may go. + + When LIDGETT and McDOUGALL + Are censors of the play, + We can patronise the Drama + In a strictly proper way; + When PARKINSON's Inspector + Of Ballets, we shall know + He will stop + Any hop + If he sees a dancer's toe. + + Such grandmaternal rulers + Will settle life for us, + And Moderates, escaping + All canvassing and fuss, + Can still, from cosy firesides, + Through three long years or so, + Watch whereat + Jumps the cat, + And which way the wind does blow. + + * * * * * + +LOCKWOOD THE LECTURER. + + ["Last Tuesday Mr. FRANK LOCKWOOD, Q.C., M.P., delivered a + lecture entitled 'The Law and Lawyers of Pickwick,' to a large + gathering of the citizens of York, which place he represents + in Parliament."--_Daily Telegraph_.] + +AIR--"_Simon the Cellarer._" + + Oh, LOCKWOOD the Lecturer hath a rare store + Of jo-vi-a-li-tee + Of quips, and of cranks, with good stories galore, + For a cheery Q.C. is he! + A cheery Q.C. and M.P. + With pen and with pencil he never doth fail, + And every day he hath got a fresh tale. + "A Big-vig on Pig-vig," he quaintly did say, + When giving his lecture at York t'other day. + For Ho! ho! ho! + FRANK LOCKWOOD can show + How well he his DICKENS + Doth know, know, know! + _Chorus._--For Ho! ho! ho! &c. + + * * * * * + +HOSPITALITY A LA MODE. + + ["Programmes and introductions are going out of fashion at + balls."--_Weekly Paper_.] + + SCENE--_Interior of a Drawing-room during a dance. Sprightly + Damsel disengaged looking out for a partner. She addresses + cheerful-looking Middle-aged Gentleman, who is standing near + her._ + +_She._ I am not quite sure whether I gave you this waltz? + +_He._ Nor I. But I hope you did. I am afraid it is nearly over, but we + shall still have time for a turn. [_They join the dancers._ + +_She._ Too many people here to-night to make waltzing pleasant. + +_He._ Yes, it is rather crowded. Shall we sit out? + +_She_ (_thankfully, as he has not quite her step._) If you like. And + see, the band is bringing things to a conclusion. Don't you hate a + _cornet_ in so small a room as this? So dreadfully loud, you know. + +_He._ Quite. Yes, I think it would have been better to have kept to + the piano and the strings. + +_She._ But the place is prettily decorated. It must have cost them a + lot, getting all these flowers. + +_He._ I daresay. No doubt they managed it by contract. And lots of + things come from Algeria nowadays. You can get early vegetables in + winter for next to nothing. + +_She._ Yes, isn't it lovely? All these palms, I suppose, came from the + Stores. + +_He._ No doubt. By the way, do you know the people of the house at + all? + +_She._ Not much. Fact was, I was brought. Couldn't find either the + host or hostess. Such a crowd on the staircase, you know. + +_He._ Yes. Rather silly asking double the number of people the rooms + will hold, isn't it? + +_She._ Awfully. However, I suppose it pleases some folks. I presume + they consider it the swagger thing to do? + +_He._ I suppose they do. Do you know many people here? + +_She._ Not a soul, or-- + +_He._ You would not have spoken to me? + +_She._ Well, no--not exactly that. But-- + +_He._ You have no better excuse ready. Quite. + +_She._ How rude you are! You know I didn't quite mean that. + +_He._ No, not quite. Quite. + +_She._ By the way, do you know what time it is? + +_He._ Well, from the rooms getting less crowded, I fancy it must be + the supper hour. May I not take you down? + +_She._ You are most kind! But do you know the way? + +_He._ I think so. You see, I have learned the geography of the place + fairly well. + +_She._ How fortunate! But if I accept your kindness, I think I should + have the honour of knowing your name. + +_He._ Certainly; my name is SMITH. + +_She._ Any relation of the people who are giving the dance? + +_He._ Well, yes. I am giving the dance myself--or rather, my wife is. + +_She._ Oh, this is quite too delightful! For now you can tell me what + to avoid. + +_He._ Certainly; and I have the pleasure of speaking to--? + +_She._ You must ask my _chaperon_ for my name. You know, introductions + are not the fashion. + +_He._ And your _chaperon_ is--? + +_She._ Somewhere or other. In the meanwhile, if you will allow me? + +_He_ (_offering his arm_). Quite! + + [_Exeunt to supper._ + + * * * * * + +MR. PUNCH'S UP-TO-DATE POETRY FOR CHILDREN. + +NO. 1.--"LITTLE MISS MUFFIT." + +[Illustration] + + Little Miss MUFFIT + Reposed on a tuffet, + Consuming her curds and whey-- + She had dozens of dolls, + And some cash in Consols + Put by for a rainy day. + + But though calm and content + While she drew Three per Cent., + The Conversion unsettled her mien, + And she said, "Though they've thrown us + This Five-Shilling Bonus, + I cannot brook Two pounds fifteen!" + + Comes a Broker outsider-- + Who chanced to have spied her, + And "Options" and "Pools" he extols-- + When he pictures the profit + (Commission small off it), + She cheerfully sells her Consols. + + Then she starts operations + With fierce speculations + In Stocks of all manner and shape; + But whatever she chooses + Her "cover" she loses, + And sees it run off on the tape. + + So alas! for Miss MUFFIT-- + She now has to rough it, + And never gets jam with her tea; + While the Bucket-shop Dealer + Employs a four-wheeler, + Regardless of _L._ _S._ and _D._ + + * * * * * + +"THE FROGS" AT OXFORD. + + SCENE--_Parlour of Private House, Oxford._ TIME--_Quite + recently. Cook wishes to speak to her Mistress._ + +_Cook._ Please, 'm, I should like to go out this evening, 'm, which + it's to see them Frogs at the New Theayter. + +_Mistress._ But it's all Greek, and you won't understand it. + +_Cook._ O yes, 'm. I once saw the Performin' Fleas, and they was + French, I believe, leastways a Frenchman were showin' of 'em, and + I unnerstood all as was necessary. + + [_After this, of course she obtains permission._ + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Ram's Uncle (on the maternal side) has recently joined the +religious sect known as the Plymouth Brethren. This has greatly +distressed the good Lady. "If it had been anything else," she says, +"a Moravian Missionary, or a Christian Brother-in-law, I wouldn't +have minded. But to think that an Uncle of mine should have become +a Yarmouth Bloater is a little hard on a poor woman no longer in her +idolescence." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: WILFUL WILHELM. + +_An Imperial German Nursery Rhyme. (From the very latest Edition of +"Struwwelpeter.")_ + +_Wilful Wilhelm._ "TAKE THE NASTY _PUNCH_ AWAY! I WON'T HAVE ANY +_PUNCH_ TODAY!"] + + Young WILHELM was a wilful lad, + And lots of "cheek" young WILHELM had. + He deemed the world should hail with joy + A smart and self-sufficient boy, + And do as it by _him_ was told; + He _was_ so wise, he _was_ so bold. + If anyone dared stop his play, + He screamed out--"Take the wretch away! + Oh, take my enemy away! + I won't have any foes to-day!" + + His old adviser WILHELM swore + Was a pig-headed senile bore. + _He_ meant to try another tack, + So his Old Pilot got the sack. + Nay more, one day, in a fierce squall, + He smashed his picture on the wall; + Tore up the papers when they said + He was a little "off his head." + He yelled, in his despotic way, + "Not any Press for me," I say! + "Oh, take that nasty _Punch_ away + I won't have any _Punch_ to-day!" + + He deemed himself, and this was odd, + A sort of new Olympian god; + And when the wise, who watched his whim, + Sighed, "Have the gods demented him? + _Quem deus vult, et cetera_" he + Was just as mad as mad could be; + And, just like other angry boys, + Kicked over tables, smashed his toys, + And cried out, "Take the things away! + I'll have nought but new toys to-day!" + + "Prudence?" he yelled; "what do _I_ care?" + And here he kicked the old pet Bear + His sire and grandsire had so cherished, + Till the old policy had perished + With Wilful WILHELM, who preferred + The Eagles. With a pole he stirred + Big Bruin up. "Oh, _I_'ll surprise him! + And, if he growls, I'll 'pulverise' him." + Some thought that picking rows with Bruin + Meant folly, if it did not ruin; + But when they whispered words of warning, + Then Wilful WILHELM, counsel scorning, + Shrieked, "Take the nasty brute away! + I won't have any Bears to-day!" + + Now, WILHELM, do not be absurd, + But listen to a friendly word! + You are a clever boy, no doubt, + And very smart, and very stout, + Like young AUGUSTUS, dainty eater, + Whose story is in _Struwwelpeter_. + Did'st ever read those truthful stories, + Good Dr. HEINRICH HOFFMANN's glories, + Which round the world have travelled gaily, + By Nursery pets consulted daily? + If not, just get "Shock-headed PETER"; + Read of AUGUSTUS, the soup-eater, + And stuck-up "JOHNNY Head-in-Air," + Who came down "bump" all unaware. + And "Fidgety PHILIP." You'll confess them + Pointed,--and don't try to suppress them, + Like Princes, party-men and papers + Which can't admire _all_ your mad capers! + My Wilful WILHELM, you'll not win + By dint of mere despotic din; + By kicking everybody over + In whom a critic you discover, + Or shouting in your furious way, + "Oh, take the nasty _Punch_ away! + I won't have any _Punch_ to-day!" + + * * * * * + +WHAT THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF, MR. PUNCH, SAYS TO THE ARTISTS' +CORPS.--"Gentlemen, you would no doubt like a brush with the enemy, to +whom you will always show a full face. Any colourable pretence for +a skirmish won't suit your palette. You march with the colours, and, +like the oils, you will never run.' You all look perfect pictures, and +everybody must admire your well-knit frames. Gentlemen, I do not know +whether you will take my concluding observation as a compliment or +not, but I need hardly say that it is meant to be both truthful and +complimentary, and it is this, that though you are all Artists, you +look perfect models," + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: CONSCIENTIOUS. + +_Mr. Boozle_ (_soliloquises_). "MY MEDICAL MAN TOLD ME NEVER ON ANY +ACCOUNT TO MIX MY WINES. SO I'LL FINISH THE CHAMPAGNE FIRST, AND +_THEN_ TACKLE THE CLARET!"] + + * * * * * + +"BUTCHER'D TO MAKE--." + + [On Monday the 14th a "lion-tamer" was torn to pieces in a + show at Hednesford.] + + Shame to the callous French, who goad + The horse that pulls a heavy load! + Shame to the Spanish bull-fight! Shame + To those who make of death a game! + We English are a better race: + We love the long and solemn face; + We fly from any cheerful place,-- + On Sunday. + + But, other days, we like a show. + There may be danger, as we know; + We put the thought of that aside, + For noble sport is England's pride: + We'd advertise a railway trip, + To see a wretched tamer slip + And die beneath the lion's grip,-- + On Monday! + + * * * * * + +A REALLY EXCEPTIONALLY REMARKABLE AND NOTEWORTHY FACT.--_To-day, +Thursday, March_ 17.--Fine Spring weather. Have sat for over +half-an-hour at a window looking on to the street, between 3.30 and +4.15 P.M., _and have not once heard either the whole or any portion of +the now strangely popular "Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay!"_ ... As I write this +... ha!... The grocer's book!... "Boom-de-ay" without the "Ta-ra." +The spell is broken! N.B.--As this delightful song has now a certain +number of Music-"hall-marks," the places where it is sung can be +spotted and remembered as "Ta-ra's Halls." + + * * * * * + +TO THE YOUNG CITY-MEN. + +TO MAKE MUCH OF (LUNCHEON) TIME; OR, A COUNSEL TO CLERKS. (AFTER +HERRICK.) + + Gather ye fish-bones while ye may, + The luncheon hour is flying, + And this same cod, that's boiled to-day, + To-morrow may be frying. + + The handsome clock of ormolu + A quarter past is showing, + And soon 'twill be a quarter to, + When you must think of going. + + That man eats best who eats the first, + When fish and plates are warmer, + But being cold, the worse and worst + Fare still succeeds the former. + + Then be not coy, but use your lungs, + And while ye may, cry "_Waiter_!" + For having held just now your tongues, + You may repent it later. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: FANCY PORTRAIT. + +THE HUMBUG-HUNTING FERRET. (_VIVERRA LABOUCHERIENSIS_.) + +_The Times_ (_loq._). "AH! WONDERFUL INSTINCT, AND OCCASIONALLY +USEFUL. BUT I'M NOT PARTICULARLY PARTIAL TO HIM!"] + + * * * * * + +PONSCH, PRINCE OF OLLENDORF. + +(_M. MAETERLINCK'S VERY LAST MASTERPIECE._) + +The Belgian Master has tried, as he has already informed the world, +"to write SHAKSPEARE for a company of Marionnettes." Encouraged by +his extraordinary success, he has soared higher yet, and adapted +our greatest national drama for the purposes of the (Independent) +itinerant Stage. We are enabled by the courtesy of his publishers to +give a few specimen scenes from this _magnum opus_, which, as will +be seen, requires somewhat more elaborate mounting and mechanical +effects than are at present afforded by the ordinary Punch +Show. In M. MAETERLINCK's version, Ponsch becomes the Prince of +Half-seas-over-Holland; he is the victim of hereditary homicidal +mania, complicated by neurotic hysteria. Inflamed by the insinuations +of Mynheer Olenikke--a kind of Dutch Mephistopheles and Iago +combined--he is secretly jealous of his consort the Princess Joedi's +preference for the society of Djoe, the Court Jester and Society +Clown. Here is our first sample:-- + + _A Chamber in the Castle. Princess JOeDI discovered at a + window with DJOE._ + +_Joedi_. Lo! lo! a shower of stars is falling upon the fowl-house! + +_Djoe_. Oh! oh! a shower of stars upon the fowl-house? (_A water pipe +in the back-garden bursts suddenly and splashes them._) Ah! ah! I am +wet all over! Have you a pocket handkerchief? + +_Joedi_. Oh, look! a comet--an enormous one--has descended into the +water-butt! The sky is blood-red, and the moon has turned the colour +of green cheese. This bodes some disaster! + +_Djoe_. It is unsettled--rainy--unpleasant weather. Can you lend me an +umbrella? + +_Joedi_. I cannot lend you an umbrella, because I have lent mine to +the gardener's wife. Owls are roosting on the chimney-pots, and a +stickleback has jumped out of the pond. Hush, my Lord the Prince +approaches! + + [_Prince PONSCH enters, bearing a stout staff, which he nurses + gloomily, like an infant; a hurricane is heard in the middle + distance; the waterpipe sobs strangely and then expires; a + blackbeetle comes out of a cupboard and runs uneasily about, + until a flash of lightning enters down the chimney and kills + it. PONSCH stands glaring at DJOE and the Princess._ + +_Djoe_ (_hastily_). There is going to be a storm. Do not forget what I +have uttered. Good evening! + + [_He goes; the wind whistles a popular air through the + keyhole._ + +_Joedi_ (_nervously_). What an appalling evening! I have never seen the +like of such a sky. + +_Ponsch_. There is something about you this evening--how beautiful you +are looking! Bring BEBBI-PONSCH. + +_Joedi_ (_fetching the Infant Prince_). Here he is. Why do you look so +strangely at him? + +_Bebbi-Ponsch_ (_a small, but important part_). Is Pa-a-par poo-oorly? +Won't he p'ay wiz me no mo-ore? + +_Ponsch_. The soul of a little stage-child looms from under his green +eyes! OLENIKKE was right, and I-- No matter. I will open the window. + + [_Opens it, and throws BEBBI-P. out. Sound of water-splash + audible._ + +_Joedi_. Oh my! Oh my! What have you done? He has fallen right into the +moat--on one of the swans! + +_Ponsch_. Indeed--on one of the swans? (_A pot of mignonnette is blown +off the window-sill by a gust._) I will close the window. (_Closes it; +a hailstorm beats on the panes._) Is that really a hailstorm--or only +birds? + +_Joedi_. I can hear nothing. (P. _strikes her suddenly on the head +with staff._) Someone is knocking at my door. Come in! I cannot see +anything now. + +_Ponsch_. Can you, indeed, see nothing? [_He strikes her again._ + +_Joedi_. Now I can see stars. I feel as if purple mills were going +round in my head. I shall never kiss anybody any more. Oh! oh! oh! +[_She dies._ + +_Ponsch_. She was a beautiful woman, do you know? Oh, how lonely I +shall feel hereafter! (_A black dog is heard scratching and sniffing +outside the door._) It is only Tobbi. Someone has trod on your toe, +my poor Tobbi. Come in. Give me your paw. (_Tobbi enters, and flies +suddenly at his nose._) Oh, my nose is bleeding! Let us go to the +pond. I do not know why I feel so melancholy this evening. [_He goes +out, pursued by Tobbi._ + + SAMPLE No. II.--_A Hall in Castle Ollendorff. A Marionnette + Theatre at the back of Stage. DJOE, a Belgian Bedell, and + Dutch Dolls-in-waiting discovered._ + +_Djoe_. Green flames are running along the walls, and blue globes are +bounding about the back garden. I have never seen such a night. Here +comes the Prince. + + [_Enter PONSCH, conscience-stricken; all bow._ + +_Ponsch_. I am not melancholy, but I have hardly any hair. Let the +Play commence! + + _Curtain of Marionnette Show rises; a Clown is seen chasing + a butterfly._ + +_A Councillor_. Oh! oh! oh! [_Uproar; the Clown and Butterfly are +withdrawn. A Skeleton appears on the Stage, and dances his head and +limbs off in a blue light._ + +_Ponsch_ (_rising_). That was done purposely! You are driving at +something. Confess it! Is there no topic more cheerful? I cannot bear +it any longer! + + [_Knocks down DJOE with his staff. A combat, during which + DJOE several times obtains possession of the weapon, and + wounds PONSCH. N.B.--Note the striking resemblance here to + the similar, but very inferior, Scenes in "Hamlet."_ + +_The Dutch Dolls_ (_running about_). Both of them bleeding already! +There's blood on the walls already! Already blood on the walls! (&c.). + +_The Bedell_. The Prince has slain DJOE. Take him into custody. + + [_PONSCH strikes the Bedell down._ + +_The B._ Ha! ha! ha! (_Tries to rise--but is struck again_). Ha! ha! +(_PONSCH strikes once more._) Ha! + + [_The Bedell dies; a draught enters under the door and + blows out two of the candles; a thunderbolt is heard coming + down-stairs, and the Ghost of JOeDI suddenly appears from + behind a tapestry representing "The Finding of Moses."_ + +_Ponsch_ (_to Ghost_). Have you any hearse-plumes at hand? Do not be +angry with me. Can you hear my teeth? I am only a poor little old man. +Will you please undo my necktie? (_cf. "King Lear"_). Let us go to +breakfast. Will there be muffins for breakfast? + + [_Exit, leaning heavily on Ghost's arm._ + +_The Dutch Dolls_ (_with conviction_). One more such night as this, +and all our heads would have gone bald! + + SAMPLE No. III.--_The Courtyard with a scaffold and gibbet. + A blood-red moon is sailing amid the currant-bushes, and a + shower of stars proceeds uninterruptedly. PONSCH discovered + looking through the fatal noose._ + +_Djakketch_ (_the Court Executioner_). Can you see anything through +the loop? + +_Ponsch_. Not yet. I cannot see the audience anywhere. + +_Djak._ No; we are probably above the heads of the audience. But can't +you distinguish Mr. WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE? + +_Ponsch_. Wait one moment. No, I cannot see Mr. SHAKSPEARE anywhere. + +_Djak._ Because he has had to take a back seat. Look again. Can you +see nothing? + +_Ponsch_. I can make out an omnibus in the street. It is green. + +_Djak._ Ay, ay! A Bayswater 'bus. They _are_ green. But don't you see +any of the general public? + +_Ponsch_. I can see Mr. WILLIAM ARCHER, and some new Critics, and +unconventional Dramatists. They are following the text with books of +the Play. But there are no more errand-boys with baskets. + +_Djak._ This is wonderful. No more errand-boys with baskets? + +_Ponsch_. No more small children with babies! + +_Djak._ No more small children? Do pray let _me_ look. (_PONSCH +retires, and DJAKKETCH puts his head through the loop._) Oh, I can +see plainly now. There is not a single spectator left. They have all +been bored to death! + +_Ponsch_. All bored to death? Now then, lift your head a little, and I +will fondle you. [_Pulls the cord towards himself._ + +_Djak._ Oh, what have you put round my neck? Oh me! You are going to +... oh, you _are_! + +_Ponsch_. Oh, I _am_! + +_Djak._ Then--oh! + +_Ponsch_. Oh! + + [_Exeunt all, except DJAKKETCH, who ceases kicking + gradually. A peacock is heard warbling in a cemetery round the + corner; a barn-door fowl jumps on a wheelbarrow, and crows._ + +FINIS. + + * * * * * + +HORACE IN LONDON. + +TO A CRUSTED OLD PORT. (_AD AMPHORAM_.) + +[Illustration] + + Old liquor born on my birthday, a twin to me, + Whether ordained wit and mirth to put into me, + Or passions that witch and defy us, + Or, peradventure, the sleep of the pious. + + Vaunt not its shippers, my friend, but produce it--an + Actual, "forty-five," languorous Lusitan, + Befitting, whate'er be its label, + You, my good host, and the guest at your table. + + Steeped though you frown in this dryasdust clever age, + Dare you presume to resist such a beverage? + Why, ELDON, that dragon of virtue, + Never imagined its vintage could hurt you. + + Liquor like this from a bottle whose crust is whole, + Liquor like this rubs the rust from the rusty soul; + The faddist it mellows: the private + Secrets of State it can somehow arrive at. + + Under its spell frolics Hypochondriasis; + Poverty learns what a millionnaire's bias is, + Yes, Poverty, such a spell under, + Laughs at the County Court's impotent thunder. + + Fill, then! A bumper we'll empty between us to + Bacchus, the _Pas-de-trois_ Graces, and Venus too, + With all of that classical ilk, man-- + Till the stars fade with the morn and the milkman. + + * * * * * + +THE "TA-RA-RA" BOOM. + +(_BY OUR OWN MELANCHOLY MUSER._) + + I am shrouded in impenetrable _gloom_-de-ay, + For I feel I'm being driven to my _doom_-de-ay, + By an aggravating ditty + Which I don't consider witty; + And they call the horrid thing, "Ta-ra-ra-_boom-de-ay_!" + + Every 'bus-conductor, errand-boy, and _groom_-de-ay, + City clerk, and cheeky crossing-sweep with _broom_-de-ay + Makes my nervous system bristle + As he tries to sing or whistle + That atrocious and absurd "Ta-ra-ra-_boom_-de-ay!" + + So I sit in the seclusion of my _room_-de-ay, + And deny myself to all--no matter _whom_-de-ay-- + For I dread a creature coming + Whose involuntary humming + May assume the fatal form, "Ta-ra-ra-_boom_-de-ay!" + + Oh, I fear that when the Summer roses _bloom_-de-ay, + You will read upon a well-appointed _tomb_-de ay:-- + "Influenza never lick'd him, + But he fell an easy victim + To that universal scourge--'Ta-ra-ra-_boom_-de-ay!'" + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +One of the Baron's Assistant Readers has been reading a +really interesting, well written novel in two volumes, by MARY +BRADFORD-WHITING. It is called _Denis O'Neil_, and tells of the +adventures of a young Irish Doctor who gets entangled in the plots +of one of those Secret Societies that used to exist in "the most +distressful country that ever yet was seen," some twenty years ago. +The romance contains some clever sketches of character. The story +(published by BENTLEY) ends sadly, and those who want to find fault +with it will say it is too short. + +[Illustration: Our Competition Novel.--Competitors at Work.] + +The Leadenhall Press,--immortalised by its invention of that +invaluable work of art, "The Hairless Author's Paper Pad," which the +Baron herewith and hereby strongly recommends to Mr. GLADSTONE, who +has so much writing to do with a pad on his knee, and for this purpose +Mr. G. would find this the "_knee plus ultra_" of inventions,--this +same Leadenhall Press has recently published a story without a title, +offering a reward of L100 to any individual, or to be divided between +such individuals, as may guess it. The story is in effect about +a youth who lost his right eye in fighting another boy, and who +subsequently revenged himself by depriving his antagonist of an eye by +a violent stroke at Lawn-tennis. What can be the title? The Baron has +had the following suggestions made to him:--"Eye for an Eye," "The +Egotist," "My Eye!" "Aye! aye!" "Ocular Demonstration," "A Man of One +Eye-dear!" "Eyes Righted," "One Left," "The Other Eye," "Two Pupils +and One Eye," "You and Eye," "The Eyes Have It." The Baron "winks the +other eye," and will be very glad should any hint of his have assisted +a deserving person to gain the reward offered by Mr. TUER. _En +attendant_ the Baron has hit upon a still more novel idea. He will +write some contributions towards short stories, and his readers shall +finish them. The terms will be these:--The Baron commences a chapter, +or a few lines of it, and leaves it unfinished, then his readers shall +finish the sentence, and sometimes the chapter, for themselves. If the +sentence, or the chapter, as the case may be, _shall turn out to be +exactly what the Baron would have written had he continued it, then +he, the Baron, will award_ L100 _to the successful candidate, or will +award a division of that sum among the successful candidates. Every +competitor shall pay the Baron_ L50. _And to insure such payment, +each competitor's cheque for this amount must accompany his or her +contribution._ + +EXAMPLE.--_CHAPTER I.--The harvest-moon was slowly rising. The +heather, dried and burnt by the mid-day sun, appeared, to the eye +unaccustomed to this aspect of the country, to be merely a rugged +divergence from the main road. Descending carefully from his dog-cart, +a small man in a big coat, muffled up to the eyes, proceeded leisurely +to--_ + +Now, then, _what_ did he leisurely proceed to do? There's a fortune in +it!--somewhere!--says + +THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: STUDIES IN ANIMAL LIFE. + +THE GOORMONG. (_EPICURI DE GREGE PORCUS. BRITISH ISLES._) + +_Mr. Huggins._ "_WHAT_ A 'EAVENLY DINNER IT WAS!" + +_Mr. Buggins._ "B'LIEVE YER! MYKES YER WISH YER WAS BORN 'OLLER!"] + + * * * * * + +SPRING TIME IN LEAP YEAR; + +OR, THE JOLLY BATHERS. + +_First Jolly Bather_ (_singing, quaveringly_):-- + Spring's delights are now revi-i-i-vi-i-i-ng, + Verdant leaflets deck each spr-a-ay! + +_Second Jolly Bather_ (_impatiently_). _Don't_, ARTHUR, make that +row! B-r-r-r! (_Shivers._) Spring's _delights_, indeed! And as to +the "verdant leaflets" (unless you mean election squibs), where _are_ +they? + +_First Ditto._ Ah, "verdant leaflets" not a bad name for Financial +Reform tracts, _et id genus omne_. Touch of your old satirical +Saturday-Reviewish style there, Nunky! + +_Second Ditto_ (_hastily_). Oh, bother! What are we here for? + +_First Ditto_ (_coolly_). Why, to _bathe_, I presume. + +_Second Ditto._ Bah! One would think, ARTHUR, we belonged to that +society of lunatics who make a point of taking a matutinal plunge in +the Serpentine every morning, all the year round, _even if they have +to break the ice to do it_! Ineffable idiots! [_Curls up._ + +_First Ditto._ Well, we may as well put a good face on it, Uncle. + + [_Grimaces._ + +_Second Ditto_. Ah, yes, you can say so--at _your_ age, ARTHUR. I like +my morning tub in my bath-room--with the chill off. + + [_Wraps his towel round his neck._ + +_First Ditto_. (_Sings again, tremolo_):-- + Why linger shivering on the brink, + And fear to launch away? + +_Second Ditto_ (_sharply_). Why, you're at it again, ARTHUR! And a +Conventicler's hymn, too, this time. I'm a-a-shamed of you. + +_First Ditto_. Ah! that's what LABOUCHERE, O'KELLY, CONYBEARE, and +Company say! _I_ don't mind; in fact, as I told 'em, I rather like it. +Does me a world of good. + +_Second Ditto_ (_admiringly_). Ah! you _have_ got a nerve, ARTHUR. I +_will_ say that for you. Still, you've been giving them something to +"guy" you about lately, you know. + +_First Ditto_ (_sharply_). Ah! have I? Well, "I can assure you that +I am the last person in the world to object to a process from which I +have profited so much." + +_Second Ditto_. Oh, yes, that was all very well for them, over yonder. +In fact, I own it was rather neatly put. + +_First Ditto_ (_slily_). Didn't "lack finish," was sufficiently "_ad +unguem_," eh, Nunky? + +_Second Ditto_ (_moodily_). Ah! what do you youngsters know about +those fine old fighting days? I didn't love DIZZY, but he was a neat +hand with the foils, boy. + +_First Ditto_. Especially in a bout with a friend,--with the buttons +off. But I say, this isn't bathing, you know! + +_Second Ditto_. No. (_Eyeing the stream distastefully._) Hadn't +we better postpone the pleasure till a little later in the season, +ARTHUR. When those "Spring's delights" of which you melodiously +twangle are a leetle more _en evidence_. + +_First Ditto_ (_pipes_). Hawthorn buds give joyful tidings. + Welcome, youths, 'tis bright bath-day! + +_Second Ditto_. Ah! if we're here to do the Eclogue business, STREPHON +can take his turn, as well as CORYDON. [_Sings._ + Let us plunge into the ri-i-i-v-e-e-r! + Leave our vesture on the bank! + +_First Ditto_. Bless me, STREPHON, how you shi-i-v-e-e-r! + +_Second Ditto_. 'Tis like a fishmonger's tank! + +_First Ditto_. Pooh! 'tis lovely--when you're in it; + One bold header, and 'tis done! + +_Second Ditto_. Ah, quite so, but--wait a minute, + Till I've warmed me with a run. + That will stir my circulation; + For the moment I am "friz." + +_First Ditto_. _Magnifique!_ my dear relation; + But, you'll own, it is not "biz." + +_Both_. We must o-o-o-ow-n it is not "biz!" + +_Second Ditto_. Well, no, I suppose it isn't, ARTHUR. By the way, +what's that row behind there? + +_First Ditto_. (_looking_). By Jove! it's that Gladstone gang! They've +tracked us! (_Sings_)-- + They're after us! They're after us! + _We_'re the individuals they require. + +_Second Ditto_. (_sardonically_). What a lyric _repertoire_ you have, +ARTHUR! Old English glee, Puritan psalmody. Music-hall song, all come +equally well to you, it seems. But those roughs mean mischief, Nephew +mine! + +[Illustration: SPRING TIME IN LEAP YEAR. + +SALISBURY. "DON'T YOU THINK, NEPHEW ARTHUR, WE'D BETTER +_PLUNGE_--BEFORE WE'RE _PUSHED_?"] + +_First Ditto_. Doubtless! They always do. And they've done some +lately, drat them! I say, wouldn't they like _to shove us in_, as they +did the old witches, _to see if we can swim_? + +_Second Ditto_. By Jove! I shouldn't wonder if they tried. Don't you +think, ARTHUR, (_valiantly_) it would be better, more manly, and more +politic, perchance, _to plunge in than to be pushed_? + +_First Ditto_ (_drily_). Ah! just as the brave sheep-- + "Committed suicide to save themselves from slaughter." + +_Second Ditto_. Oh, hang your quotations! Happy omen! 'Tis Leap Year, +is it not? Just a leap; though, like DERBY's, it be "in the dark," +and--well, _we shall know where we are, anyhow!_ + +_First Ditto_. Ah, just so; and that's something! + + [_Left considering._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: TEMPTATION. + +_Hairdresser_. "ANY _BAY-RUM_, SIR?" + +_Middy_. "THANK YOU--A--NO! NOT QUITE so EARLY IN THE MORNING--YOU +KNOW!"] + + * * * * * + +"CLERK ME NO CLERKS." + + It seems Sir E.C., Q.C., likes + The blatant, brazen, Boothian band, + Admires "abstaining" zeal that strikes + The biggest drum with boldest hand. + He says, "You must not judge some others' case + By tastes much more refined," less commonplace. + + Yet, as Sir EDWARD disagrees + With those whose tastes he thus divined, + It's manifestly clear he sees + _His_ taste in music's not "refined." + 'Twas written long ago by CHAUCER's pen, + "The gretest clerkes ben not the wisest men." + + * * * * * + +"MY DEAR EYES! WHAT! SEE-USAN!" + +At the Prince of Wales's, Mr. ARTHUR ROBERTS, as _Captain Crosstree_, +is more ARTHUR ROBERTS than ever, and, consequently, immensely droll. +While he is on the stage, the audience is convulsed with spasmodic +laughter, excepting when he tries to forget himself and his drollery +in a loyal attempt at doing justice to Messrs. SIMS' AND PETTITT's +words, and to the serious business of some situation intended to be +dramatic. At such moments the laughter of the House is checked, a +sudden gloom comes over the faces that were but now on the broad grin, +even the lineaments of Mr. ROBERTS become agonised, and the audience, +like _Christopher Sly_ when bored by the Duke's players, mutter to +themselves, "would t'were done." But these painful seconds, which, at +the time, seem hours, are, we are glad to say, but brief and passing +shadows over Mr. ROBERTS' own quaint humour which speedily reasserts +itself, and, the Pettitt-and-Sims fetters being cast aside, the +People's ARTHUR is himself again, and more so than ever. And, when he +_is_ himself, he is simply the most absurd person that ever faced the +footlights. + +[Illustration: _Arthur Roberts_ (_to Arthur Williams_). "The boat's +getting along nicely, now we've got rid of some of the heavy cargo."] + +Miss NELLIE STEWART is a pretty singing, dancing, twisting, twirling +_Susan_. But what induced handsome Miss MARION BURTON, once so gay +and sprightly as _Cherubino_ in _Le Nozze di Figaro_, to essay this +musically dreary part of _William_, and, further, to wear a costume +about as unlike that of the nautical and traditional _William_ as can +well be imagined, is a puzzle to anyone who knows what she _has_ done +and _can_ do. Not a bit of dash in the character; all the good old +conventional British Tar taken right out of it. She can indeed say +with the fool in _The Yeomen of the Guard_, "I've got a song to sing, +oh!" for she has two or three, but her "voice is wasted on the desert +air," as they go for nothing, and therefore probably nobody else could +make them go for anything. + +Mr. ARTHUR WILLIAMS is funny, but his Variety Show scene, with +soliloquy and song, is too long; or rather, it would not be too long, +if the piece were only cut down to a two hours' entertainment. + +[Illustration: A Mug of Burton.] + +Let this "Comic Opera," for so is it described in the bills, be +cut down as ruthlessly, but not as blindly, as _William_ cut down +_Crosstree_; let something catching be substituted for most of the +music of the First Act,--specially omitting the "Why, certainly!" +interpolation, which is a feeble but evident imitation of Mr. W.S. +GILBERT's classic "What, never?" "Well, hardly ever;" let the music +of the Second Act be taken out by handfuls, and, if possible, let what +remains be replaced by something sparkling; then, with less of sweet +but sad _William_--for the present version of the part is quite +"BURTON's _Anatomy of Melancholy_,"--with less of fascinating but +squirming _Susan_, far less of minor characters generally, and more, +by comparison, of the two MACS--meaning the two ARTHURS with the +plural names ROBERTS and WILLIAMS,--also a telling song for Mr. +CHAUNCEY OLCOTT (whose singing now wins an _encore_ for an indifferent +ballad),--with the Captain's-giggy hornpipe of Mr. WILLIE WARD +retained, as also the graceful dancing of Miss KATIE SEYMOUR, and +then, omitting as much of the plot and authors' written dialogue as +can be conveniently spared,--very little of it would be missed,--there +is no rhyme or reason why _Blue-Eyed Susan_ should not run on as a +Variety Entertainment for any number of nights and days, during which +fresh material can be constantly substituted by Messrs. ROBERTS & Co. +of the Drollery Company, Unlimited, without racking the fertile brains +of Messrs. PETTITT AND SIMS. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE SALVATION HOUSE OF COMMONS. OUR PARLIAMENTARY +ARTIST'S DREAM, MARCH 10.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: ONE FOR HIM. + +_Major Spooneleigh_. "AND YOU RIDE SO WELL, AND--ER--YOU DRIVE +SO WONDERFULLY WELL, AND--ER--YOU DANCE SO--ER--BEAUTIFULLY, AND +YOU--ER--PLAY LAWN-TENNIS SO--ER--EXQUISITELY, AND--ER--OF COURSE YOU +FISH ALSO?" + +_Mrs. Dasher_. "NEVER FOR COMPLIMENTS, I ASSURE YOU; AND CERTAINLY NOT +IN SHALLOW WATERS!"] + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. + +[Illustration: Chief Secretary.] + +_House of Commons, Monday, March_ 14.--JACKSON turned up to-night +answering questions from Irish Members. This reminds us he's Irish +Secretary. Been so of course since Parliament met; but quite forgotten +it. Mention this to the SPEAKER who looked a little dull while Captain +PRICE was discoursing on Navy Affairs in Committee of Supply. So went +up to have a little chat with him in the Chair. + +"My dear TOBY," he said, "I don't know whether you meant it, but +you've paid JACKSON the highest compliment it is possible to convey. +When in these times the CHIEF SECRETARY so manages to conduct business +of his department that he himself is temporarily forgotten, he's doing +it surpassingly well. My big brother ROBERT was once Chief Secretary, +though perhaps you forget that also. He resigned because, as he said, +there was not enough work to keep an active man going. That was long +time ago. I daresay you had no chance of forgetting during the last +five years that Prince ARTHUR was Chief Secretary?" + +[Illustration: T.P. Gill.] + +Cannot claim to have invented the compliment the SPEAKER discerned; +merely mentioning matter of fact; but, as he says, when in these days +a Chief Secretary manages to get himself forgotten, the wheels at the +Irish Office must be going pretty smoothly. JACKSON has not brought +about this miraculous change by laying himself out to flatter or court +Irish Members. He is exactly the same as he was when he filled office +of Financial Secretary; doubtless the same as when he looked after his +tanyard in Yorkshire. Goes straight to the point in simple unaffected +business manner that ruffles no sensibilities. Fancy he could tan a +hide in such a way that it would not feel any resentment. + +A predecessor at the Irish Office who succeeded, in more troublesome +times, in living on peaceable terms with Irish Members, was +CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN. Irish Members, swift judges of character, taking +measure of both, came to conclusion nothing to be gained by rowing +round them. What killed FORSTER, and turned GEORGE TREVELYAN's hair +grey, made CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN smile--not an offensive smile, but one +of interested amusement. JACKSON's sense of humour not so keen, but +his imperturbability even more impregnable. If Irish Member trailed +his coat before him, JACKSON would say, "My dear fellow, won't you get +cold? Let me help you on with your coat." + +SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, a judge on this particular point, says the MARKISS +missed the greatest chance he has had for six months in not putting +JACKSON in place of OLD MORALITY. + +"Precious good thing for us, TOBY," says the SQUIRE, "that he didn't. +JACKSON the very model of a Leader of House, and Prince ARTHUR--well +he's Prince ARTHUR." + +"But I suppose you don't mean," I venture to ask, "that JACKSON is the +exclusive type of a successful Leader?" + +"No," says the SQUIRE, with a far-away look. + +_Business done._--Two Votes in Supply. + +_Tuesday._--Spent doleful afternoon in Committee of Supply. +Circumstances call upon Members below Gangway, Radicals or Irishmen, +to come to front, and make at least show of doing something. SAGE OF +QUEEN ANNE'S GATE pricks up his ears when Chairman puts question to +allow L6 7s. 11d. on account of Sheerness Police Court. Why should +Northampton contribute its quota, however small, to expenses of +Sheerness Police Court? Debate and Division; after which, the SAGE +retired to smoke cigarette through rest of afternoon, and discuss +probable date of Dissolution. + +[Illustration: The Storm in the Reform Club Tea-Cup.] + +Then Irish Members come on. Cream seems spooned off the mass in +preparation for festivities on St. Patrick's Day, and only the +skimmest of skim milk left. WEBB wobbles to the front; talks out vote +for Chicago Royal Committee, although ATTORNEY-GENERAL tells him it +will be all right as to Irish interests; being now close upon ten +minutes to seven, when Committee must adjourn, WEBSTER hasn't time +to make detailed explanations, but promises to do so on Report. WEBB +maunders on all the same, and Vote postponed. + +Great day for FLYNN. TIM HEALY thinks he's pretty smart as a debater; +SEXTON believes he knows a thing or two; O'BRIEN is understood to be +something of an orator. FLYNN will show House how all these qualities +may be combined in one man. Does it by the tiresome twenty minutes, +the lamentable half-hour; popping up on every question with comically +judicial air; talking on with fatal feeble flatulent fluency, whilst +GILL sits nursing his hat awaiting his turn. + +Alack for Irish humour, eloquence and deviltry, that it should come to +this! + +Whilst FLYNN once again turns on the tap of his tepid dish-water, news +comes that Lord HAMPDEN died this morning in far-off Pau. HAMPDEN was +the BRAND who sat in Chair during Parliament of 1874, and wrestled +nightly with the "bhoys" when they were in their prime--MAJOR +O'GORMAN rollicking through the night; JOSEPH GILLIS with lean hand +outstretched and his "It seems to me, MR. SPEAKER"; PARNELL in the +white heat of passion; DELAHUNTY with his One Pound Notes, and poor +MCCARTHY DOWNING with his scared look and his indescribable but +unmistakable air of one accustomed to frequent the best society in +Skibbereen. + +After a fourth speech from FLYNN, with another to follow from WEBB, +one almost envies the EX-SPEAKER lying at rest at the foot of the +Pyrenees. + +_Business done._--A few Votes in Supply. + +_Thursday._--St. Patrick's Day in the evening. Irish Members rose to +occasion; indeed, at one time O'KELLY and JOHN O'CONNOR rose together; +remained on their legs in defiance of Standing Orders and angry +protest of Chairman. Seemed as if someone must be suspended _pour +encourager les autres_. Storm suddenly stilled; rising passion subdued +by appearance of ALPHEUS CLEOPHAS on the scene, wanting to know about +the Refreshment-bar in the Lobby. which, he said, was lowering to the +dignity and respectability of House. + +_Friday_ 12.15 A.M.--All this in Committee of Supply, which came to +end at midnight. Then Report of Supply brought on; uproar renewed; +Vote for Irish Teachers' Pension Fund under discussion. Irish Members +mysteriously disappeared; SEXTON, understood to have ready prodigious +speech on the subject, nowhere to be found. "JOHN O'CONNOR," NOLAN +hoarsely whispered, "you have the longest legs in the Party; go and +look up the bhoys, and I'll talk." + +Silently but swiftly LONG JOHN stole forth on his mission; NOLAN +nobly performed his part. At end of forty minutes' breathless talk, +the Colonel, feeling his mouth growing parched, moved adjournment of +House. SPEAKER didn't recognise relevancy of argument; declined to put +the question. + +"The Hon. Member," he said, "has spoken for forty minutes, and not +given a single reason in favour of his proposal." + +"I was coming to that point," said NOLAN, "and, if it is quite in +order, I will now approach it." + +Ruled out of order. LONG JOHN, back from his foray, in course of which +had hunted up SEXTON, threw himself into breach; moved the adjournment +for irresistible reason. + +"I object," he said, "to this important subject being dealt with at +nearly one o'clock in the morning on St. Patrick's night." + +T.W. RUSSELL, condoled with his compatriots below Gangway on +difficulties of situation. "Certainly hard," he said, "that on St. +Patrick's night they should be called upon to discuss questions +involving facts and figures." BALFOUR opposed adjournment; CONYBEARE +strode in; commenced what promised to be long speech; Prince ARTHUR +moved Closure; carried by nearly a hundred majority. + +1.35 A.M.--House just back after division on question of adjournment; +Ministerialists in full muster and full of fight; 41 for adjournment, +121 against. As if nothing been said during previous hour-and-half, +ILLINGWORTH urges Prince ARTHUR to concede adjournment; PRINCE ARTHUR +rises to reply. Irish Members, pulling themselves together, walk +steadily out, amid ribald laughter from Ministerialists. Once more the +CURSE OF CAMBOURNE turns up. This seems, quite naturally, to suggest +the Closure; sort of automatic procedure; CONYBEARE--Closure. One more +division just to wind up, and at ten minutes past two Vote carried and +House up. + +_Business done._--Revival of old times. + +_Saturday_, 1.20 A.M.--House just up, after prolonged wrangle, +lasting, with interval for dinner, straight through from two o'clock +yesterday afternoon. Met then for Morning Sitting designed to make +progress with financial business. For four hours disputed how business +was to be arranged. This left one hour for doing it. Sitting suspended +at seven, resumed at nine. + +At it again talking about Royalties on Gold in Wales. Domestic +Policy in Zululand, the Irish Question in the Falkland Islands, and +Parliamentary Reporting. All this led gently up to passing Vote on +Account; a conclusion finally arrived at with the assistance of the +Closure. + +_Business done._--Vote on Account taken. + + * * * * * + +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. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume +102, March 26, 1892, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 14389.txt or 14389.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/3/8/14389/ + +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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