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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 *** |