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diff --git a/old/14390-h/14390-h.htm b/old/14390-h/14390-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..09d2006 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14390-h/14390-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2400 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> + + <title>Punch, April 2, 1892.</title> + <style type="text/css"> + /*<![CDATA[*/ + + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + .note, .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt;} + + .poem + {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + .drama {margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .drama p {margin: 1em 0em 0em 0em;; padding-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em;} + .drama p.i2 {margin: 0; margin-left: 1em;} + .drama p.i4 {margin: 0; margin-left: 2em;} + .drama p.i6 {margin: 0; margin-left: 3em;} + .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;} + + .inline {border: none; vertical-align: middle;} + + p.author {text-align: right;} + --> + /*]]>*/ + </style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, +April 2, 1892, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, Or The London Charivari, Volume 102, April 2, 1892 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: December 20, 2004 [EBook #14390] + +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>April 2, 1892.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page157" + id="page157"></a>[pg 157]</span> + + <h2>"'TIS MERRY IN HALL."</h2> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/157-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/157-1.png" + alt="'Knock'd 'em!'" /></a>"Knock'd 'em!" + </div> + + <p>"What's in an 'at without an 'ed?" DISTAFFINA DE COCKAIGNE + was wont to inquire, and "what's an 'all" (of Music like the + London Pavilion) "without a NED" in the shape of Mr. EDWARD + SWANBOROUGH, the all-knowing yet ever-green Acting Manager at + this place of entertainment, who possessing the secret of + perpetual youth in all the glory of ever-resplendent hat and + ever-dazzling shirt-front, ushers us into the Stalls in time to + hear the best part of an excellent all-round show. It is sad to + think that, probably as we were disputing with the cabman, the + celebrated Miss BOOM-TE-RÉ-SA, alias LOTTIE COLLINS, + Serio-Comic and Dancer, was "booming" and "teraying" before the + eyes of a delighted audience. Strange that we should not yet + have heard the great original. But as she is not (so to adapt a + line from the "<i>Last Rose of Summer</i>") "left booming + alone," we have not escaped hearing several of her male and + female imitators who, by her kind permission and that of her + publishers, trade on her present exceptional success. However, + when we entered the Stalls, Miss BOOM-TE-RÉ-SA had disappeared, + and somebody with a song had "intervened"—a mode of + proceeding not necessarily limited to the Queen's + Proctor—before the object of our visit walked on to the + stage, and when he did come a pretty object he was too, seeing + that it was Mr. ALBERT CHEVALIER, the unequalled and inimitable + Comedian of the Costermongers. He is a thorough artist in this + particular line, and no indifferent one in others; but his + Coster ballads are artistically first rate. The fashion of + calling English singers by Italian names is on the wane, + otherwise Mr. ALBERT CHEVALIER, of French extraction, would + find an excellent Italian alias, closely associated with the + operatic and musical professions, and most appropriate to the + line he has adopted, in the name of "SIGNOR COSTA." The melody + of Mr. CHEVALIER's "<i>Coster's Serenade</i>," of which, I + rather think, he is the composer as well as librettist, is as + charming as it is strikingly original. After the <i>Chevalier + sans peur et sans approche</i> had retired, clever and + sprightly Miss JENNY HILL gave as a taste of + lodging-house-keeperism, following whom came the Two MACS + belabouring each other in their old hopelessly idiotic, but + always utterly irresistible style; and then Lieutenant W. + COLE—King COLE we "crowned him long ago"—gave his + ventriloquial entertainment, who, with his troop of talking + dolls, should have his address at Dollis Hill. There were many + "turns" yet to follow when we left, at a comparatively early + hour; "and so," to quote old PEPYS, "home with much + content."</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>"TO HAVE AND TO HOLD."</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Big promises and Party scoldings</p> + + <p>Won't cure "Small Savings" by "Small Holdings."</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE MARVELS OF MODERN SCIENCE.</h2> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE—<i>Interior of Small Box containing + telephone with book of addresses. Enter hurriedly</i> + Impatient Subscriber.</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Impatient Subscriber</i> (<i>turning over leaves of + address-book</i>). Of course I can't find it! Ah! here it + is! 142086. (<i>Rings bell of telephone, and listens with + receivers to his ear.</i>) Now I have forgotten it! + (<i>Puts back receivers on rests, and refers again to book. + Telephone bell rings in answer. He hurries back and + calls.</i>) One hundred and forty-two nought + eighty-six.</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i> (<i>from telephone</i>). One hundred + and forty-two?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> Yes, and nought eighty-six.</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i>. Which do you want?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> Why, both.</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i>. You can't. Must have one at a + time.</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> It's only one. One four two nought + eight six.</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i>. One four two nought eight six?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> Yes, please. One four two nought eight + six.</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i>. Very well. Why didn't you give the + number before?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> (<i>angrily</i>). Well, I have given it + now. (<i>He listens intently, exclaiming now and again</i>, + "<i>Are you there</i>?" <i>and then rings</i>.) One four + two nought eight six, please.</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i> (<i>after a pause</i>). What!</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> One four two nought eight six, + please.</p> + </div> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:16%;"> + <a href="images/157-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/157-2.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>First Voice</i> (<i>as if the number is now heard for + the first time</i>). One four two nought eight six?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> Yes, please. And look sharp!</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i>. What?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> One four two nought eight six.</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i>. I hear. One four two nought eight + six. [<i>The communication is cut off for a couple of + minutes.</i></p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> (<i>for the sixth time</i>). Are you + there?</p> + + <p><i>Second Voice</i>. Yes. Who is it?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> I am BOSH, BOODLE & CO.</p> + + <p><i>Second Voice</i>. RUSH, RUDDLE & CO.?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> No. BOSH, BOODLE & CO.</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i>. Have you finished?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> No, no—we are still speaking. I + want to know if you have sent that case of champagne to + BUMBLETON?</p> + + <p><i>Second Voice</i>. What? I can't hear you.</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> (<i>speaking very slowly, as if + dictating to imperfectly educated infants</i>). + Have—you—sent—that—case—of—cham—pagne—to + BUM—BLE—TON?</p> + + <p><i>Second Voice</i> (<i>puzzled</i>). Sent a case of + champagne?</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i> (<i>interposing</i>.) Have you + finished?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> No, we are still speaking. + Yes—have you sent a case of champagne to + BUMBLETON?</p> + + <p><i>Second Voice</i>. Sent a case of champagne to + BUMBLETON? No; why should we?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> Because you promised TICKLEBY you + would.</p> + + <p><i>Second Voice</i> (<i>evidently perplexed</i>). + Promised TICKLEBY?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> (<i>in a tone of reproach</i>). Yes, + promised TICKLEBY.</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i> (<i>interposing</i>.) Have you + finished?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> No, we are still speaking; please don't + cut us off. (<i>Returning to the champagne subject</i>). + Yes, you promised TICKLEBY you would send the case of + champagne to BUMBLETON. (<i>With inspiration.</i>) You are + the Arctic Wine Company, aren't you?</p> + + <p><i>Second Voice</i>. No. I am Secretary of the Curate's + Papier Mâché Church Company.</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> (<i>in a tone of sorrow</i>). Aren't + you one four two nought eight six?</p> + + <p><i>Third Voice</i> (<i>coming from somewhere</i>). Mind + and bring a gun with you, and—.</p> + + <p><i>Second Voice</i>. No. We are two four eight nought + six seven. Good morning!</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i>. Have you finished?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> (<i>angrily</i>). I have not begun! You + have put me on the wrong number!</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i> (<i>calmly</i>). What number do you + want?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> (<i>angrily</i>). One four two nought + eight six.</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i>. Two four two nought eight six?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> (<i>with suppressed rage</i>). No, + <i>one</i> four two nought eight six.</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i>. Very well. One four two nought eight + six.</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> Yes, and don't make a mistake.</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Long pause, during which he asks</i>, "<i>Are + you there?</i>" <i>at intervals.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <p><i>Fourth Voice</i>. What is it?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> Are you Arctic Wine Company?</p> + + <p><i>Fourth Voice</i>. Yes, all right! What is it?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> (<i>joyfully</i>). Have you sent a case + of champagne to BUMBLETON?</p> + + <p><i>Fourth Voice</i>. What? I can't hear you.</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i>. (<i>interposing</i>). Have you + finished?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> No, we are still speaking. Have you + sent a case of champagne to BUMBLETON?</p> + + <p><i>Fourth Voice</i>. We can't hear you. Send a + messenger.</p> + + <p><i>First Voice</i>. Have you finished?</p> + + <p><i>Imp. Sub.</i> (<i>shouting</i>). Yes! (<i>Is cut + off.</i>) Shorter to have done so at once!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Uses intemperate language, and hurries off to get a + Messenger. Curtain.</i></p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <h3>THE CHURLISH CABMAN.</h3> + + <h4>AIR—"<i>Ballyhooley</i>."</h4> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:21%;"> + <a href="images/157-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/157-3.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The Cabman's thrifty fares,</p> + + <p>Who would seek suburban airs,</p> + + <p class="i2">Desire, of course, a more extended + "radius;"</p> + + <p>But, Cabby, it is clear,</p> + + <p>Thinks quite otherwise. I fear</p> + + <p class="i2">The controversy's growing rather + "taydious."</p> + + <p>Whether by night or day,</p> + + <p>A fair fare the fare should pay,</p> + + <p class="i2">And Cabby should not overcharge + unduly;</p> + + <p>But <i>this</i> is what riles <i>me</i>,</p> + + <p>When churl Cabby <i>will</i> not see</p> + + <p class="i2">A would-be fare, but just ignores him + coolly.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <center> + <i>Chorus</i>. + </center> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"<i>Hi! hi! Cab! Hi</i>!" Oh, no!</p> + + <p>On the sullen brute will go;</p> + + <p>When he <i>wants</i> a fare, he's clamorous and + unruly;</p> + + <p>But if he wants a <i>drink</i>,</p> + + <p>With a sneer or with a wink,</p> + + <p>He'll rumble on and just ignore you coolly.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page158" + id="page158"></a>[pg 158]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/158.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/158.png" + alt="DESTROYING THE MONEY-LENDER'S WEB; OR, THE THIRTEENTH LABOUR OF HERSCHELLES." /> + </a> + + <h3>DESTROYING THE MONEY-LENDER'S WEB; OR, THE THIRTEENTH + LABOUR OF HERSCHELLES.</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page159" + id="page159"></a>[pg 159]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/159.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/159.png" + alt="RATHER SMART ALL ROUND." /></a> + + <h3>RATHER SMART ALL ROUND.</h3> + + <p><i>Lady Di.</i> (<i>who has been trying a Horse with a + view to purchase</i>). "AND DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT HE'S + QUITE UP TO MY WEIGHT, MR. SPAVIN?"</p> + + <p><i>Spavin.</i> "LOR! MY LADY, HE'D CARRY TWO OF + YOU!"</p> + + <p><i>Lady Di.</i> "WHAT? DO YOU MEAN TO SAY THAT I'M ONLY + HALF A HORSEWOMAN?"</p> + + <p><i>Spavin.</i> "BY NO MEANS, MY LADY. BUT ANOTHER LIKE + YOUR LADYSHIP WOULD LOOK SO WELL ON THE OTHER SIDE!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>HOW TO REPORT THE PRACTICE OF THE CREWS.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>Newest Style.</i>)</h4> + + <p>Scarcely had the tintinabulum fixed on the altitude of the + clock tower of the ecclesiastical building known to fame and + rowing men as Putney Church sounded out the merry chimes of + eleven in the forenoon, when the wielders of the sky-blue (or + dark-blue) blades were observed by the eager frequenters of the + tow-path carrying their trim-built ship to the water's edge. + Not many moments were cut to waste before each man had safely + ensconced himself on the thwart built for him under the + experienced eyes of the champion boat-builder. The men looked, + it must in all fairness be admitted, in the high level of + condition. In each eye there blazed a stern determination to do + or die on every possible occasion. When the signal to start was + given, the boat was observed to move with the bounding speed of + a highly-trained greyhound. The oars dipped into the water like + one man, though a marked inclination was observed on the part + of two or three of the oarsmen to "hurry," while the rest + seemed equally disposed to be "late." A few fatherly words from + the prince of modern coaches soon had the desired effect of + placing matters on a more completely satisfactory footing. The + suggestion often made in these columns that a swifter rate of + striking should be introduced, was acted upon. The boat moved + with perfect evenness, while the wavelets played round her like + young dolphins out for a holiday.</p> + + <p>I need only add that our old friend Jupiter Pluvius proved + once again to be a kind friend to those who tempted the dangers + of the foaming tide in Putney Reach. In conclusion, it must be + observed that the stroke was sometimes "short" and occasionally + "long," but the "slides" moved like things of life, and + contributed greatly to the pleasure of a very enjoyable + outing.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>DESTROYING THE SPIDER'S WEB;</h2> + + <h4><i>Or, The Thirteenth Labour of Herschelles.</i></h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"To Lion-Hearted Hercules," the strong,</p> + + <p>Sounded the clarion of Homeric song.</p> + + <p>"Alcides, forcefullest of all the brood</p> + + <p>Of men enforced with need of earthly food."</p> + + <p><i>Punch</i> will sing gallant Herschelles, than + whom</p> + + <p>Who was more worthy of Alcmene's womb</p> + + <p>Or Jovian parentage? Behold him stand</p> + + <p>With lion-hide on loins, and club in hand!</p> + + <p>Forceful and formidable to all foes,</p> + + <p>But fatal most especially to those</p> + + <p>Of Hydra presence and Stymphalian beak,</p> + + <p>Whose quarry is unseasoned youth, who seek</p> + + <p>By subtle snares the Infant's steps to trip,</p> + + <p>And catch the Minor in their harpy grip.</p> + + <p>To his Twelve Labours, against monsters grim,</p> + + <p>Who might have lived in safety but for him,</p> + + <p>To snare, to slay, to humbug, and to cozen,</p> + + <p>Herschelles, just to make a baker's dozen,</p> + + <p>Adds a Thirteenth!</p> + + <p class="i10">A wily, wicked wight,</p> + + <p>Dwelling in noxious nooks as dark as night,</p> + + <p>Beyond the radius of the housemaid's broom,</p> + + <p>And thence dispensing dire disgrace and doom</p> + + <p>Long time our homes hath haunted. Greedy Ghoul,</p> + + <p>As furtive of advance as fierce of soul,</p> + + <p>The Money-lending Spider is his name,</p> + + <p>And grim and gruesome was his little game.</p> + + <p>Of swollen body, of protuberant beak,</p> + + <p>He knew that Youths were green, and Infants + weak,</p> + + <p>And spun his web, invisible but strong,</p> + + <p>Where'er GRAY's well-named "little triflers" + throng,</p> + + <p>Who, verily unmindful of their doom,</p> + + <p>He watched from forth his grubby haunts of + gloom,</p> + + <p>And strove by sinister device to lure,</p> + + <p>Till, 'midst his viscous mazes once secure,</p> + + <p>Them he might seize and suck.</p> + + <p class="i10">The Birds, the Boar,</p> + + <p>The Lion, or the Bull, all whom before</p> + + <p>Great Herschelles had tackled, were not worse</p> + + <p>Than the Colossal Spider, Albion's curse,</p> + + <p>The scourge of childish Wealth and youthful + Rank,</p> + + <p>The Moloch of our Minors! Fathers, thank</p> + + <p>Our new Alcides, who, with legal club,</p> + + <p>Could dare the web assault, the Spider drub!</p> + + <p>Worse than Tarantula venom hath the bite</p> + + <p>Of this Conkiferous Ogre, which to fight</p> + + <p>Herschelles did adventure! Thump! Bang! Whack!</p> + + <p>The web is burst, the Spider's on his back,</p> + + <p>All impotently spluttering poisonous spleen</p> + + <p>Let's hope such monster may no more be seen.</p> + + <p>And let us hail great Herschelles, whose skill</p> + + <p>The high-nosed horror hath availed to kill.</p> + + <p>Blow, Infants, blow the pipe, and thump the + tabor,</p> + + <p>In honour of the hero's Thirteenth Labour!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page160" + id="page160"></a>[pg 160]</span> + + <h2>CONFESSIONS OF A DUFFER.</h2> + + <h3>VII.—THE DUFFER WITH A SALMON-ROD.</h3> + + <p>No pursuit is more sedentary, if one may talk of a sedentary + pursuit, and none more to my taste, than trout-fishing as + practised in the South of England. Given fine weather, and a + good novel, nothing can he more soothing than to sit on a + convenient stump, under a willow, and watch the placid kine + standing in the water, while the brook murmurs on, and perhaps + the kingfisher flits to and fro. Here you sit and fleet the + time carelessly, till a trout rises. Then, indeed, duty demands + that you shall crawl in the manner of the serpent till you come + within reach of him, and cast a fly, which usually makes him + postpone his dinner-hour. But he will come on again, there is + no need for you to change your position, and you can always + fill your basket easily—with irises and + marsh-marigolds.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/160.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/160.png" + alt="'I wade in as far as I can, and make a tremendous swipe with the rod.'" /> + </a>"I wade in as far as I can, and make a tremendous swipe + with the rod." + </div> + + <p>Such are our county contents, but woe befall the day when I + took to salmon-fishing. The outfit is expensive, "half-crown + flees" soon mount up, especially if you never go out without + losing your fly-book. If you buy a light rod, say of fourteen + feet, the chances are that it will not cover the water, and a + longer rod requires in the fisherman the strength of a SANDOW. + You need wading-breeches, which come up nearly to the neck, and + weigh a couple of stone. The question has been raised, can one + swim in them, in case of an accident? For <i>one</i>, I can + answer, he can't. The reel is about the size of a butter-keg, + the line measures hundreds of yards, and the place where you + fish for salmon is usually at the utter ends of the earth. Some + enthusiasts begin in February. Covered with furs, they sit in + the stern of a boat, and are pulled in a funereal manner up and + down Loch Tay, while the rods fish for themselves. The angler's + only business is to pick them up if a salmon bites, and when + this has gone on for a few days, with no bite, Influenza, or a + hard frost with curling, would be rather a relief. This kind of + thing is not really angling, and a Duffer is as good at it as + an expert.</p> + + <p>Real difficulties and sufferings begin when you reach the + Cruach-na-spiel-bo, which sounds like Gaelic, and will serve us + as a name for the river. It is, of course, extremely probable + that you pay a large rent for the right to gaze at a series of + red and raging floods, or at a pale and attenuated trickle of + water, murmuring peevishly through a drought. But suppose, for + the sake of argument, that the water is "in order," and only + running with deep brown swirls at some thirty miles an hour. + Suppose also, a large presumption, that the Duffer does not + leave any indispensable part of his equipment at home. He + arrives at the stream, and as he detests a gillie, whose + contempt for the Duffer breeds familiarity, he puts up his rod, + selects a casting line, knots on the kind of fly which is + locally recommended, and steps into the water. Oh, how cold it + is! I begin casting at the top of the stream, and step from a + big boulder into a hole. Stagger, stumble, violent bob + forwards, recovery, trip up, and here one is in a sitting + position in the bed of the stream. However, the high + india-rubber breeks have kept the water out, except about a + pailful, which gradually illustrates the equilibrium of fluids + in the soles of one's stockings. However, I am on my feet + again, and walking more gingerly, though to the spectator, my + movements suggest partial intoxication. That is because the bed + of the stream is full of boulders, which one cannot see, owing + to the darkness of the water. There was a fish rose near the + opposite side. My heart is in my mouth. I wade in as far as I + can, and make a tremendous swipe with the rod. A frantic tug + behind, crash, there goes the top of the rod! I am caught up in + the root of a pine-tree, high up on the bank at my back. No use + in the language of imprecation. I waddle out, climb the bank, + extricate the fly, get out a spare top, and to work again, more + cautiously. Something wrong, the hook has caught in my coat, + between my shoulders. I must get the coat off somehow, not an + easy thing to do, on account of my india-rubber armour. It is + off at last. I cut the hook out with a knife making a big hole + in the coat, and cast again. That was over him! I let the fly + float down, working it scientifically. No response. Perhaps + better look at the fly. Just my luck, I have cracked it + off!</p> + + <p>Where is the fly-book? Where indeed? A feverish search for + the fly-book follows—no use: it is not in the basket, it + is not in my pocket; must have fallen out when I fell into the + river. No good in looking for it, the water is too thick, I + <i>thought</i> I heard a splash. Luckily there are some flies + in my cap, it looks knowing to have some flies in one's cap, + and it is not so easy to lose a cap, without noticing it, as to + lose most things. Here is a big Silver Doctor that may do as + the water is thick. I put one on, and begin again casting over + where that fish rose. By George, there he came at me, at least + I think it must have been at me, a great dark swirl, "the + purple wave bowed over it like a hill," but he never touched + me. Give him five minutes law, the hook is sure to be well + fastened on, need not bother looking at that again. Five + minutes take a long time in passing, when you are giving a + salmon a rest. Good times and bad times and all times pass, so + here goes. It is correct to begin a good way above him and come + down to him. I'm past him; no, there is a long heavy drag under + water, I get the point up, he is off like a shot, while I stand + in a rather stupid attitude, holding on. If I cannot get out + and run down the bank, he has me at his mercy. I do stagger + out, somehow, falling on my back, but keeping the point up with + my right hand. No bones broken, but surely he is gone! I begin + reeling up the line, with a heavy heart, and try to lift it out + of the water. It won't come, he is here still, he has only + doubled back. Hooray! Nothing so nice as being all alone when + you hook a salmon. No gillie to scream out contradictory + orders. He is taking it very easy, but suddenly he moves out a + few yards, and begins jiggering, that is, giving a series of + short heavy tugs. They say he is never well hooked, when he + jiggers. The rod thrills unpleasantly in my hands, I wish he + wouldn't do that. It is very disagreeable and makes me very + nervous. Hullo! he is off again up-stream, the reel ringing + like mad: he gets into the thin water at the top, and jumps + high in the air. He is a monster. Hullo! what's that splash? + The reel has fallen off, it was always loose, and has got into + the water. How am I to act now? He is coming back like mad, and + all the line is loose, and I can't reel up. I begin pulling at + the line to bring up the reel, but the reel only lets the line + out, and now he is off again, down stream this time, and I + after him, and the line running out at both ends at once, and + now my legs get entangled in it, it is twisted all round me. He + runs again and jumps, the line comes back in my face, all + slack, something has given. It is the hook, it was not knotted + on firmly to start with. He flings himself out of the water + once more to be sure that he is free, and I sit down and gnaw + the reel. Had ever anybody such bad fortune, but it is just my + luck!</p> + + <p>I go back to the place where the reel fell in, and by + pulling cautiously I extract it from the stream. It shan't come + off again; I tie it on with the leather lace of one of my + brogues. Then I reel up the slack, and put on another fly, out + of my cap, a Popham. Then I fish down the rest of the pool. + Near the edge, in the slower part of the water, there is a long + slow draw, before I can lift the point of the rod, a salmon + jumps high out of the water at me,—and is gone! I never + struck him, was too much taken aback at the moment; did not + expect him then. Thank goodness, the hook is not off this + time.</p> + + <p>The next stream is very deep, strong and narrow; the best + chance is close in on my side. By Jove, here he is, he took + almost beside the rock. He sails leisurely out into the + strength of the stream, if he will come up, I can manage him, + but if he goes down, the water is very swift and broken, there + are big boulders, and then a sheer wall of rock difficult to + pass in cold blood, and then the Big Pool. + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page161" + id="page161"></a>[pg 161]</span> He insists on going down, I + hold hard on him, and refuse line. But he leaps, and then, + well he <i>will</i> have it; down he rushes, I after him, + over the stones, scrambling along the rocky face; great + heavens! <i>the top joint of the rod is loose</i>; I did not + tie it on, thought it would hold well enough. But down it + runs, right down the line; it must be touching the fish. It + is; he does not like it, he jiggers like a mad thing, rushes + across the Big Pool, nearly on to the opposite bank. Why + won't the line run? The line is entangled in my boot-lace. + He is careering about; I feel that I am trembling like a + leaf. There, I knew it would happen; he is off with my last + casting-line, hook and all. A beauty he was, clear as silver + and fresh from the sea. Well, there is nothing for it but a + walk back to the house. I have lost one fly-book, two hooks, + a couple of casting-lines, three salmon, a top joint, and I + have torn a great hole in my coat. On changing my dress + before lunch, I find my fly-book in my breast pocket, where + I had not thought of looking for it somehow. Then the rain + comes, and there is not another fishing day in my fortnight. + Still, it decidedly was "one crowded hour of glorious life," + while it lasted. The other men caught four or five salmon + apiece; it is their Red Letter Day. It is marked in black in + my calendar.</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>TOOTING.</h3> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>["It is a noteworthy fact that while debates have been + languishing at Westminster, at Tooting there have been + Members enough to 'make a House' any day during the past + fortnight, so keen an interest is the 'Royal and Ancient' + game exciting."—<i>Daily Telegraph.</i>]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>What's the use of hooting.</p> + + <p>Or cir-cum-lo-cuting?</p> + + <p class="i4">M.P.'s off</p> + + <p class="i4">To play at Golf.</p> + + <p>All the way to Tooting!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Petty points PAT's mooting!</p> + + <p>Chances not computing,</p> + + <p class="i4">M.P. slips,</p> + + <p class="i4">(Despite the Whips)</p> + + <p>Off to Golf at Tooting!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Landlords <i>may</i> be looting,</p> + + <p>Tenants <i>may</i> be shooting;</p> + + <p class="i4">Where's the fun</p> + + <p class="i4">In <i>that</i>? Let's run</p> + + <p>Off to Golf at Tooting!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So M.P.'s are "scooting,"</p> + + <p>On-the-gay-galoot-ing;</p> + + <p class="i4">Cut the House</p> + + <p class="i4">(It shows their <i>nous</i>)</p> + + <p>For the Links at Tooting!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There is joy in shooting,</p> + + <p>Wine-ing or cherooting,</p> + + <p class="i4">Dinners, Moors,</p> + + <p class="i4">Weeds—<i>all</i> are bores,</p> + + <p>Compared with Golf at Tooting!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/161-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/161-1.png" + alt="CONSIDERATION FOR OTHERS." /></a> + + <h3>CONSIDERATION FOR OTHERS.</h3> + + <p><i>Tommy.</i> "I HAD <i>SUCH</i> A BAD DREAM LAST NIGHT, + GRANDPAPA!"</p> + + <p><i>The Admiral.</i> "TELL IT ME, TOMMY."</p> + + <p><i>Tommy.</i> "OH NO! IT WOULD ONLY FRIGHTEN YOU AS IT + FRIGHTENED ME!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>"BEYOND THE DREAMS OF AVARICE."</h2> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>["FIFTY POUNDS Reward will be gratefully paid to any + Lady or Gentleman who will ASSIST in RECOVERING a valuable + HEIRLOOM.... Anyone with wealthy or influential friends can + at once secure above reward. Address, &c."]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:30%;"> + <a href="images/161-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/161-2.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>I am an impecunious young man, and, the other day, on seeing + this Advertisement in the <i>Times</i>, I was seized with a + wild desire to "at once secure above reward." Said I to myself, + "I have 'wealthy and influential friends.' There is my cousin's + uncle, who has, I believe, thirty thousand a-year, though I + never saw any part of it, or of him, for the matter of that; + and there is my own aunt by marriage, whose second husband is a + K.C.B., but I forget his name, and do not know where he lives." + So I sat and thought about it for a time with my eyes shut, and + then I started. The train was so full, that I imagined it must + be market-day in some neighbouring town, but the station was so + much fuller, that I could hardly get out of the train. At last, + edgeways, I reached a pale and melancholy ticket-collector, and + asked him where I should find the address mentioned. He turned + a pitying eye upon me, and, pointing to the crowd that filled + the station, said, wearily, "They're all a-goin' there. I know, + cos they've all arst me. You'd better foller 'em."</p> + + <p>This statement filled me with desperation; I fought and + struggled through the vast crowd of persons "with wealthy and + influential friends" until I reached the open street. By that + time I was exhausted, and, finding that the street was even + fuller than the station had been, I gave up the attempt. I saw + that the reserve of gold at the Bank of England would not have + sufficed to pay each applicant the promised £50. In any case I + felt sure that by that time the whole of the money in the town + must have been used up. So, without hat or umbrella, and with + my coat as much divided up the back as up the front, I + returned—to consciousness, and went on reading the + newspaper.</p> + <hr /> + + <h3>"THE FORESTERS."</h3> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>All the greatest swells</p> + + <p class="i2">Of the U.S.A.</p> + + <p>Come to see a new,</p> + + <p class="i2">Fascinating play.</p> + + <p>Verses by a Lord!</p> + + <p class="i2">Music by a Knight!</p> + + <p>Just the thing in which</p> + + <p class="i2">Democrats delight.</p> + + <p>When the hearty praise</p> + + <p class="i2">Bursts from Yankee lips,</p> + + <p>"Pass and blush the news</p> + + <p class="i2">Over glowing ships;"</p> + + <p>What are "glowing ships"?</p> + + <p class="i2">That I've never guessed,</p> + + <p>"Pass the happy news,</p> + + <p class="i2">Blush it thro' the West;"</p> + + <p>This I simply quote</p> + + <p class="i2">From the poet's muse;</p> + + <p>Hang me if I know</p> + + <p class="i2">How you "blush the news"!</p> + + <p>Anyhow, you do,</p> + + <p class="i2">If the lines will scan,</p> + + <p>"Till the red man dance,"</p> + + <p class="i2">Do you think he can?</p> + + <p>"And the red man's babe</p> + + <p class="i2">Leap beyond the sea."</p> + + <p>Active sort of child,</p> + + <p class="i2">Surely, that must be!</p> + + <p>"Blush from West to East,"</p> + + <p class="i2">Blush from left to right,</p> + + <p>"Till the West is East,"</p> + + <p class="i2">And the black is white,</p> + + <p>DALY is the man!</p> + + <p class="i2">Daily is the play,</p> + + <p>"Dailies" puff it up,</p> + + <p class="i2">In the kindest way.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>MORE APPROPRIATE.—The Senate House, where the Degree + Examinations take place, might well be termed "The Spinning + House." It is there that unfortunate Candidates are "spun."</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page162" + id="page162"></a>[pg 162]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:65%;"> + <a href="images/162.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/162.png" + alt="THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID." /></a> + + <h3>THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID.</h3> + + <p><i>Little Jones</i>. "YOU'LL GIVE ME A DANCE TO-MORROW + NIGHT, WON'T YOU, MRS. FOOTE?"</p> + + <p><i>Mrs. Foote</i> (<i>who is anxious to show her + matronly consideration for Unmarried Girls</i>). "WELL, I + CAN'T PROMISE, AND IF THE MEN RUN <i>SHORT</i>, YOU KNOW, I + SHAN'T DANCE AT ALL!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE TELEPHONE CINDERELLA;</h2> + + <h3>OR, WANTED A GODMOTHER.</h3> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>["Far from taking up and developing the new mode of + communication thus given into its hands, it (the Post + Office) could not forget its attitude of hostility to the + innovation, or conceive any larger policy than one of + repressing the telephone in order to make people stick to + the telegraph.... The result is that England lags far + behind all other civilised countries in the use of the + telephone."—<i>Times</i>.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <center> + AIR—"<i>Ulalume</i>." + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Cinderella</i>, you sit and look sober,</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>Cinderella</i>, you mope and look + queer—</p> + + <p class="i2">You mope, and look dolefully queer;</p> + + <p>As chill as JOHN MILLAIS' "<i>October</i>,"</p> + + <p class="i2">As you have done, this many a year.</p> + + <p>It is hard on you; MOZART or AUBER</p> + + <p class="i2">Might fail your depression to + cheer—</p> + + <p>Had you taken the draught named of Glauber,</p> + + <p>You could scarce look duller, my dear</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + II. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Our times, dear, are truly Titanic,</p> + + <p class="i2">Perfection seems Science's + goal—</p> + + <p class="i2">Dim, distant, dark Science's + goal—</p> + + <p>But we're still a bit given to panic.</p> + + <p class="i6">Monopolies moodily roll—</p> + + <p class="i6">Monopolies restlessly roll—</p> + + <p>That's why there's a movement volcanic</p> + + <p class="i2">That stirs us from pole unto + pole—</p> + + <p>A moaning that's vainly volcanic,</p> + + <p class="i2">In the realms of the (Telegraph) + pole.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + III. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Deputations are serious and sober,</p> + + <p class="i2">Officials look palsied and + sere—</p> + + <p class="i2">They indulge in rhetoric small-beer</p> + + <p>(Instead of sound sparkling October)</p> + + <p class="i2">They're frightened about <i>you</i>, my + dear—</p> + + <p class="i2">(You, at present in two senses, + dear!)</p> + + <p>They would scan the far future, and probe her,</p> + + <p class="i2">But can't—and it makes them feel + queer;</p> + + <p>As you sit by the fire, looking sober,</p> + + <p class="i2">You make <i>them</i> sit up and feel + queer.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + IV. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Your sisters, whose airs are unpleasant,</p> + + <p class="i2">Regard you with arrogant scorn—</p> + + <p class="i2">With arrogant, uneasy scorn—</p> + + <p>True, they have the pull, for the present,</p> + + <p class="i2">But fear you, the fair youngest born.</p> + + <p>They know that your glory is crescent,</p> + + <p class="i2">And, though each uplifteth her horn,</p> + + <p>Each feels that <i>her</i> glory's senescent,</p> + + <p class="i2">In spite of their duplicate scorn.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + V. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Miss Telegraph</i>, lifting her finger,</p> + + <p class="i2">Says—"Sadly this minx I + mistrust—</p> + + <p class="i2">Her manners I strangely + mistrust—</p> + + <p>She'll distance us, dear, if we linger!</p> + + <p class="i2">Ah, haste!—let us haste!—for + we must!</p> + + <p>She'll eclipse us—that <i>would</i> be a + stinger!</p> + + <p class="i2">She'll rise, and our business is + "bust"—</p> + + <p>My dear, we must snub her, and bring her</p> + + <p class="i2">Presumptuous pride to the dust—</p> + + <p class="i2">Till she sorrowfully sinks in the + dust."</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + VI. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><i>Post</i> replies—"Oh, it's nothing but + dreaming,</p> + + <p class="i2">Her hoping to put out <i>our</i> + light!—</p> + + <p class="i2">Our brilliant and duplicate light!</p> + + <p>What did FERGUSSON say, blandly beaming</p> + + <p class="i2">Upon the tired House t'other night?</p> + + <p class="i2">He said <i>he</i> would make it all + right.</p> + + <p>Ah, we safely may trust to his scheming—</p> + + <p class="i2">Be sure he will lead us aright—</p> + + <p>He won't let the damsel there dreaming</p> + + <p class="i2">Despoil us of what is our + right—</p> + + <p class="i2">The monopoly plainly <i>our</i> + right!"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + VII. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Yet watch <i>Cinderella</i>, and list her!</p> + + <p class="i2">She yet will emerge from her + gloom—</p> + + <p class="i2">Time will conquer her fears and her + gloom.</p> + + <p>Before her she hath a bright + vista.<a id="footnotetag1" + name="footnotetag1"></a><a href="#footnote1"><sup>1</sup></a></p> + + <p class="i2">The fairy Godmother will come!</p> + + <p class="i2">Redtape shall not long seal her doom.</p> + + <p>What is written is written! No "sister,"</p> + + <p class="i2">(Though scorning her beauty, and + broom)</p> + + <p class="i2">Shall shroud her bright light in the + tomb</p> + + <p class="i2">Which yet the whole land shall + illume!</p> + </div> + </div> + + <center> + VIII. + </center> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>She's "some pumpkins"—though now she looks + sober—</p> + + <p class="i2">She's brilliant; she is "no small + beer."</p> + + <p class="i2">No, no, <i>Cinderella</i>, my dear!</p> + + <p class="i2">Your envious "sisters" may jeer,</p> + + <p class="i2">And sit on you yet, for a year;</p> + + <p class="i2">Redtape your advancement may fear,</p> + + <p class="i2">And Monopoly's patrons look queer;</p> + + <p>But, as sure as the month of October</p> + + <p class="i2">Is famous for sound British beer,</p> + + <p>Vested Interest time shall prove <i>no</i> bar</p> + + <p class="i2">To your final triumph, my dear!</p> + </div> + </div> + + <blockquote class="footnote"> + <a id="footnote1" + name="footnote1"></a><b>Footnote 1:</b> + <a href="#footnotetag1">(return)</a> + + <p>POE, not <i>Mr. Punch</i>, should have the credit of + this and certain other Cockney rhymes.</p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <p>"HONI SOIT QUI MAL Y PENSE."—"The competition for the + Evill Prize also took place yesterday" (<i>i.e.</i>, last + Thursday. <i>Vide Times</i>). The prize so Evilly named was won + by Mr. PHILIP BROZEL, of the Royal Academy of Music, who must + have expressed himself as being at least deucedly delighted, + even if he did not use some much stronger and wronger + expression. Henceforth PHILIP BROZEL has an Evill reputation. + Let us hope he will live up to it, and so live it down.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page163" + id="page163"></a>[pg 163]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/163.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/163.png" + alt="THE TELEPHONE CINDERELLA;" /></a> + + <h3>THE TELEPHONE CINDERELLA;</h3>OR, WANTED A GODMOTHER. + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page165" + id="page165"></a>[pg 165]</span> + + <h2>MATINÉE MANIA.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>A Sketch at any Theatre on most afternoons.</i>)</h4> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE—<i>The Front of the House. In the Boxes and + Dress-circle are friends and relations of the</i> Author. + <i>In the Stalls are a couple of Stray Critics who leave + early, actors and actresses "resting" more friends and + relations. In the Pit, the front row is filled by the</i> + Author's <i>domestic servants, the landladies of several of + the performers, and a theatrical charwoman or two, behind + them a sprinkling of the general public, whose time + apparently hangs heavily on their hands. In a Stage-box is + the</i> Author <i>herself, with a sycophantic</i> + Companion. <i>A murky gloom pervades the Auditorium; a + scratch orchestra is playing a lame and tuneless + Schottische for the second time, to compensate for a little + delay of fifteen minutes between the first and second + Tableaux in the Second Act. The orchestra ceases, and a + Checktaker at the Pit door whistles "Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay!" + Some restless spirits stamp feebly.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:50%;"> + <a href="images/165.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/165.png" + alt="'Sir, a roughly-dressed stranger ... requests a few words.'" /> + </a>"Sir, a roughly-dressed stranger ... requests a few + words." + </div> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>The Author.</i> I wish they would be a <i>little</i> + quicker. I've a good mind to go behind myself and hurry + them up. The audience are beginning to get impatient.</p> + + <p><i>Her Companion.</i> But that shows how + <i>interested</i> they are, <i>doesn't</i> it, dear?</p> + + <p><i>Author.</i> I think it <i>ought</i> to interest them, + but I <i>did</i> expect they would have shown a little more + enthusiasm over that situation in the last + <i>tableau</i>—they're rather a <i>cold</i> + audience!</p> + + <p><i>Comp.</i> It's above their heads, dear, that's where + it is—plays are such rubbish nowadays, people don't + appreciate a really <i>great</i> drama just at first. I do + hope Mr. IRVING, Mr. HARE and Mr. BEERBOHM TREE will come + in—I'm sure they'll be only too <i>anxious</i> to + secure it!</p> + + <p><i>Author.</i> I don't know that I should care for it to + come out at the Lyceum, but of course if the terms were + very—oh, they're beginning at last! I hope this light + comedy scene will go well. (<i>Curtain rises: Comic + dialogue—nothing whatever to do with the + plot—between a Footman and a Matinée Maidservant in + short sleeves, a lace tucker, and a diamond necklace; + depression of audience. Serious characters enter and tell + one another long and irrelevant stories, all about nothing. + When the auditor remarks,</i> "Your story is indeed a sad + one—but go on," <i>a shudder goes through the house, + which becomes a groan ten minutes later when the listener + says:</i> "You have told me <i>your</i> history—now + hear <i>mine</i>!" <i>He tells it; it proves, if possible, + duller and more irrelevant than the other man's. A + love-scene follows, characterised by all the sparkle and + brilliancy of "Temperance Champagne"; the House witnesses + the fall of the Curtain with apathy.</i>)</p> + + <p><i>Author.</i> That love-scene was perfectly + <i>ruined</i> by the acting! She <i>ought</i> to have + turned her head aside when he said, "Dash the teapot!" but + she never <i>did</i>, and he left out <i>all</i> that about + dreaming of her when he was ill with measles in + Mashonaland! I wish they wouldn't have such long waits, + though. We timed the piece at rehearsal, and, with the cuts + I made, it only played about four hours; but I'm afraid it + will take longer than that to-day.</p> + + <p><i>Comp.</i> I don't care <i>how</i> long it + is—it's so <i>beautifully</i> written!</p> + + <p><i>Author.</i> Well, I put my whole <i>soul</i> into it, + you know; but it's not till this next Act that I show my + full power. [<i>Curtain rises on a drawing-room, furnished + with dingy wrecks from the property-room—the home + of</i> JASPER, the Villain, <i>who is about to give an + evening party. Enter a hooded crone.</i> "Sir JASPER, I + have a secret of importance, which can only be revealed to + your private ear!" (<i>Shivers of apprehension amongst the + audience.</i>) <i>Sir J.</i> "Certainly, go into yonder + apartment, and await me there." (<i>Sigh of relief from + spectators</i>.) <i>A Footman.</i> "Sir, the guests wait!" + <i>Sir J.</i> (<i>with lordly ease</i>). "Bid them enter!" + (<i>They troop in unannounced and sit down against the + wall, entertaining one another in dumb-show.</i>) + <i>Footman</i> (<i>re-entering</i>). "Sir, a + roughly-dressed stranger, who says he knew you in Norway, + under an <i>alias</i>, requests a few words." <i>Sir J.</i> + "Confusion!—one of my former accomplices in + crime—my guests must not be present at this + interview!" (<i>To Guests.</i>) "Ladies and Gentlemen, will + you step into the adjoining room for a few minutes, and + examine my collection of war-weapons?" (<i>Guests retire, + with amiable anticipations of enjoyment. The Stranger + enters, and tells another long story.</i>) "I smile still," + he concludes—"but even a <i>dead</i> man's skull will + smile. Allow me then the privileges of death!" (<i>At this + an irreverent Pittite suddenly guffaws, and the Audience + from that moment perceives that the piece possesses a + humorous side. The Stranger goes; the Guests return. + Re-enter Footman</i>). "Sir, an elderly man, who was + acquainted with your family years ago, insists on seeing + you, and will take no denial!" <i>Villain</i> (<i>with + presence of mind—to Guests.</i>) "Ladies and + Gentlemen, will you step into the neighbouring apartment, + and join the dancers?" (<i>The Guests obey. The</i> Elderly + Man <i>enters, and denounces</i> JASPER, <i>who + mendaciously declares that he is his own second cousin</i> + JOSEPH; <i>whereupon the visitor turns down his + coat-collar, and takes off a false beard.</i>) "Do you know + me now, JASPER SHOPPUN?" he cries. "<i>I</i> am + JOSEPH—your second cousin!"... "What, ho, Sir + Insolence!" the Villain retorts. "And so you come to + deliver me to Justice?"... "Not so," says JOSEPH. "Long + years ago I swore to my dying Aunt to protect your + reputation, even at the expense of my own. I come to warn + you that"—&c., &c. (<i>The Audience, who are + now in excellent spirits, receive every incident with + uncontrollable merriment till the end of the Act. Another + long wait, enlivened by a piccolo solo.</i>)</p> + + <p><i>Author.</i> LAVINIA, it's <i>too</i> + disgraceful—it's a deliberate conspiracy to turn the + piece into ridicule. I never thought my <i>own + relations</i> would turn against me—and yet I might + have known!</p> + + <p><i>Comp.</i> It wasn't the <i>play</i> they laughed at, + dear—that's lovely—but it's so ridiculously + <i>acted</i>, you know!</p> + + <p><i>Author.</i> Of course the acting <i>is</i> + abominable—but they might make allowances for + <i>that</i>. It <i>is</i> so unfair! [<i>The Play proceeds. + The Heroine's jealousy has been excited by the Villain, for + vague purposes of his own, and the Hero is trying to disarm + her suspicions.</i> <i>She.</i> "But why are you constantly + going from Paris to London at the beck and call of that + man?" <i>He</i> (<i>aside</i>). "If she only knew that I do + it to shield my second cousin, JASPER—but my + oath!—I cannot tell her! (<i>To her.</i>) The reason + is very simple, darling—he is my Private Secretary!" + (<i>Roars of inextinguishable laughter, drowning the Wife's + expressions of perfect satisfaction and confidence. The + Hero wants to go out; the Wife begs him to stay; she has 'a + presentiment of evil—a dread of something unseen, + unknown.' He goes: the Villain enters in evening + dress.</i>) <i>Villain.</i> "Your husband is false to you. + Meet me in half an hour at the lonely hut by the + cross-roads, and you shall have proof of his guilt." + (<i>The Wife departs at once, just as she is. Villain, + soliloquising.</i>) "So—my diabolical schemes + prosper. I have got JOSEPH out of the way by stratagem, + decoyed his wife—my early love—to a lonely hut, + where my minions wait to seize her. Now to abduct the + child, destroy the certificate of vaccination which alone + stands between me and a Peerage, set fire to the home of my + ancestors, accuse JOSEPH of all my crimes, and take my seat + in the House of Lords as the Earl of Addelegg! + Ha-ha—a good night's work! a good—" + <i>Joseph</i> (<i>from back</i>). "Not so. I have heard + all. I will <i>not</i> have it. You <i>shall</i> not!" + (<i>&c., &c.</i>) <i>Villain.</i> "You would thwart + my schemes?" <i>Joseph</i> (<i>firmly</i>). "I would. My + wife and child shall <i>not</i>—" (<i>&c., + &c.</i>) <i>Villain</i> (<i>slowly</i>). "And the oath + you swore to my Mother, your dying Aunt, would you break + that?" <i>Joseph</i> (<i>overcome</i>). "My oath! my Aunt! + Ah, no, I cannot, I <i>must</i> not break it. JASPER + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page166" + id="page166"></a>[pg 166]</span> SHOPPUN, I am + powerless—you must do your evil will!" (<i>He + sinks on a settee: Triumph of Villain, tableau, and + Curtain.</i>)</p> + + <p><i>Author.</i> I wouldn't have <i>believed</i> that a + modern audience would treat heroic conduct like that as if + it was <i>laughable</i>. It's enough to make one give up + play-writing altogether!</p> + + <p><i>Comp.</i> Oh, I wouldn't do <i>that</i>, dear. You + mustn't punish Posterity! [<i>The Play goes on and on; the + Villain removes inconveniently repentant tools, and saddles + the Hero with his nefarious deeds. The Hero is arrested, + but reappears, at liberty, in the next Act (about the + Ninth), and no reference whatever is made to the past. Old + serious characters turn up again, and are welcomed with + uproarious delight. At the end of a conversation, lasting a + quarter of an hour, the Lady's-maid remarks that "her + Mistress has been very ill, and must not talk too much." + Cheers from Audience. General joy when the Villain returns + a hopeless maniac. Curtain about six, and loud calls for + Author.</i>)</p> + + <p><i>Author.</i> Nothing will <i>induce</i> me to take a + call after the shameful way they've behaved! And it's all + the fault of the acting. When we get home, I'll read the + play all through to you again, and you'll see now it + <i>ought</i> to have been done! A hundred and twenty pounds + simply thrown away!</p> + </div> + + <blockquote> + <p>[<i>Retires, consoled by her</i> Companion, <i>and the + consciousness that true genius is invariably + unappreciated.</i></p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + + <h4>EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</h4> + + <p><i>House of Commons, Monday, March 21.</i>—Uneasy + feeling spread through House to-night consequent on question + addressed by MACINNES to UNDER-SECRETARY FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS. + Wants to know "whether his attention has been called to the + increase of drinking among Natives in the Coast Towns?" CAUSTON + particularly depressed.</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:16%;"> + <a href="images/166-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/166-1.png" + alt="'Sir, I am not—'" /></a>"Sir, I am + not—" + </div> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/166-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/166-3.png" + alt="'—an Agricultural Labourer.'" /> + </a>"—an Agricultural Labourer." + </div> + + <p>"I sat for Colchester for five years, you know," he said, + "and grew into habit of regarding the Natives as my + constituents. For five years never swallowed one without + thinking I was reducing the number on the Register. Used to + excuse myself on the ground that the particular bivalve that + had disappeared must have been a Conservative, or it would + never have been so stupid as to leave its comfortable bed to + embark on such a journey. My interest in the oyster is now + secondary. They don't flourish in Southwark; whelks more in our + way down there. Still one cannot forget old associations, and + confess I'm rather knocked over to hear this report MACINNES + has brought up. Can't imagine anything more distressing than + the spectacle of a drunken oyster—probably with + dishevelled beard—coming home late at night and trying to + get into another Native's shell under impression that he has + recognised his own front door. Must see WILFRID LAWSON about + this; get up an Oyster Temperance Society; framed certificates, + blue ribbon, and all that, if the thing spreads, we shall have + oysters emitting quite a rum-punch flavour when we add the + lemon."</p> + + <p>Gloom dissipated two hours later by appearance of BOBBY + SPENCER at the Table. BOBBY doesn't often witch the House with + oratory. Content with important though to outsiders obscure + position he occupies in Party administration. His is the hand + that pulls the strings to which Liberal Party dance. + SCHNADHORST gets some credit, but everybody knows BOBBY's the + man. To see these two political strategists in conference is + sufficient to reassure the Liberal Party on the possible issues + of the General Election.</p> + + <p>SCHNADHORST complains that BOBBY has a trick, after + addressing him through the ear-trumpet he (S.) carries in + reminiscence of JOSHUA REYNOLDS, of putting his ear to the + trumpet as if he expected the answer to arrive through that + medium.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:55%;"> + <a href="images/166-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/166-2.png" + alt="MR. JOSEPH CHAMBERLAIN ON 'THE HUMOURS OF PARLIAMENT.'" /> + </a> + + <h3>MR. JOSEPH CHAMBERLAIN ON "THE HUMOURS OF + PARLIAMENT."</h3> + </div> + + <p>"Very embarrassing." SCHNADHORST says, "to have a fellow + first putting his mouth and then his ear to other end of your + trumpet. Sometimes I say to him, sharply, '<i>I</i> don't speak + through the trumpet.' 'Oh, no, of course not,' he says, 'I beg + your pardon,' and draws away. Presently he's back again, + politely, as I speak, applying his ear to the trumpet. But it's + only the absence of mind that arises from preoccupation in + matters of State."</p> + + <p>BOBBY, besides being the political director of the strategy + of the Liberal Party, is a County Member. It was in this last + capacity he appeared at Table to-night in Debate on Second + Reading of Small Holdings Bill. House received him with hearty + cheer. No one more popular than BOBBY. Delight uproariously + manifested when, daintily pulling at his abundant shirt-cuff, + and settling his fair young head more comfortably upon summit + of his monumental collar, he deprecatingly observed—</p> + + <p>"Mr. SPEAKER, Sir, I am not an Agricultural Labourer."</p> + + <p>The speech a model of Parliamentary debating, full of point, + resting on sound argument, lucidly stated, and all over in five + minutes. <i>Business done.</i>—Debate on Small Holdings + Bill.</p> + + <p><i>Tuesday</i>.—Morning Sitting. SEXTON at length + worked off the speech on Irish Education Bill, that has hung + over House like cloud since Bill was introduced in earliest + days of Session. Wasn't in his place the first night; so + friends and colleagues wore out the sitting to preserve his + opportunity. When this next presented itself, SEXTON thought + the hour and condition of House unsuitable for person of his + consequence; declined to speak. To-day, his last chance, things + worse than ever. Benches empty, as usual at Morning Sitting. + But now or never, and at least there would be long report in + Irish papers. So went at it by the hour. Finished at a quarter + to five. At Morning Sitting, debate automatically suspended at + ten minutes to seven; two hours and five minutes for everyone + else to speak. SINCLAIR long waiting chance to thrust in his + nose. Found it at last; but House wearied and worn out; glad + when seven o'clock approached, and Bill read First + Time.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page167" + id="page167"></a>[pg 167]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/167.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/167.png" + alt="THE LEADER OF THE HOUSE—(VIDE THE OPPOSITION PRESS.)" /> + </a> + + <h3>THE LEADER OF THE HOUSE—(VIDE THE OPPOSITION + PRESS.)</h3> + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page168" + id="page168"></a>[pg 168]</span> + + <p>At Evening Sitting, Lawyers had it all to themselves. + ROBERTSON opened Debate on Law of Conspiracy in admirable + speech. Later came LOCKWOOD, speaking disrespectfully of "B." + Then SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, girding at SOLICITOR-GENERAL; MATTHEWS + followed, with plump assertion that Squire had not been talking + about the Resolution. Finally CHARLES RUSSELL, with + demonstration that "the Right Hon. Gentleman (meaning MATTHEWS) + had displayed a complete misconception of the character and + objects of the Resolution." Being thus demonstrated upon + unimpeachable authority that nobody knew anything about the + Resolution, House proceeded to vote upon it. For, 180; against, + 226. Ministerialists cheered; Opposition apparently equally + delighted. So home I to bed, everyone determined first thing in + morning get hold of newspaper, and see what the Resolution + really was about. <i>Business + done</i>.—Miscellaneous.</p> + + <p><i>Wednesday</i>.—"I wonder," said SAGE OF QUEEN + ANNE'S GATE, curiously regarding CHAMBERLAIN discoursing on the + Eight Hours Bill, "whom JOE meant by his reference at + Birmingham on Saturday night to 'the funny man of the House of + Commons,'—'A man who has a natural taste for buffoonery, + which he has cultivated with great art, who has a hatred of + every Government and all kinds of restraint, and especially, of + course, of the Government that happens to be in office.' + Couldn't be HENEAGE, and I don't suppose he had JESSE in his + mind at the moment. Pity a man can't make his points clearly. + JOE used to be lucid enough. But he's falling off now in that + as in other matters. Made me rub my eyes when I read his + remarks about House of Lords, and remembered what he used to + say on subject when he and I ran together. Certainly JOE is a + man of courage. There are topics he might, with memory of past + speeches, easily avoid or circumnavigate. But he goes straight + at 'em, whether fence or ditch, takes them at a stride + regardless of his former self, splashed with mud in the jump, + or smitten with the horse's hoof. Makes me quite sentimental + when I sit and listen to him, and recall days that are no more. + <i>Mrs. Gummidge</i> thinking of the Old 'Un is nothing to me + thinking of the Young 'Un who came up from Birmingham in 1876, + and who from '80 to '85 walked hand in hand with me.</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>We were patriots together.—Ah! placeman and + peer</p> + + <p class="i2">Are the patrons who smile on your labours + to-day;</p> + + <p>And Lords of the Treasury lustily cheer</p> + + <p class="i2">Whatever you do and whatever you say.</p> + + <p>Go, pocket, my JOSEPH, as much as you will,</p> + + <p class="i2">The times are quite altered we very well + know;</p> + + <p>But will you not, will you not, talk to us + still,</p> + + <p class="i2">As you talked to us once long ago, long + ago?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>We were patriots together!—I know you will + think</p> + + <p class="i2">Of the cobbler's caresses, the + coalheaver's cries,</p> + + <p>Of the stones that we throw, and the toasts that we + drink</p> + + <p class="i2">Of our pamphlets and pledges, our libels + and lies!</p> + + <p>When the truth shall awake, and the country and + town</p> + + <p class="i2">Be heartily weary of BALFOUR & + CO.,</p> + + <p>My JOSEPH, hark back to the Radical frown,</p> + + <p class="i2">Let us be what we were, long ago, long + ago!"</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>"Bless me," I cried, "how beautiful! I didn't know that, + among your many accomplishments, you were given to dropping + into poetry."</p> + + <p>"Tut, tut!" said the SAGE, blushing, "it isn't all my own; + written years ago by MACKWORTH PRAED, about JOHN CAM HOBHOUSE. + I've only brought it up to date."</p> + + <p><i>Business done</i>.—Eight Hours' Bill thrown out on + a Division.</p> + + <p><i>Thursday</i>.—Private O'GRADY, of the Welsh + Fusiliers, the hero of the hour. His annals short and simple. + Got up early in the morning of St. Patrick's Day; provided + himself with handful of shamrock, which he stuck in his + glengarry. (<i>Note</i>.—O'GRADY, an Irishman, belongs to + a Welsh Regiment, and, to complete the pickle, wears a Scotch + cap.) The ignorant Saxon officer in command observing the + patriot muster with what he, all unconscious of St. Patrick's + Day, thought was "a handful of greens" in his cap, instructed + the non-commissioned officer to order him to take it out.</p> + + <p>"I won't do't," said gallant Private O'GRADY, the hot Celtic + blood swiftly brought to boiling pitch by this insult to St. + Patrick. Irish Members vociferously cheered when STANHOPE read + the passage from Colonel's report. Another non-commissioned + officer advancing from the rear, repeated order.</p> + + <p>"I won't do't!" roared the implacable Private O'GRADY.</p> + + <p>Once more the Irish Members burst into cheering, whilst a + soldier in uniform in Strangers' Gallery looked on and + listened. Would like to hear his account of scene confided to + comrades in privacy of barrack-room.</p> + + <p>When STANHOPE finished reading report of officer commanding + battalion, Irish Members leaped to their feet in body, each + anxious to stand shoulder to shoulder with Private O'GRADY + defying the Saxon. NOLAN, who had set ball rolling, might have + got in first, but was so excited as to be momentarily + speechless; could only paw at the air in direction of Treasury + Bench where STANHOPE sat, PAT O'BRIEN, ARTHUR O'CONNOR, the + wily WEBB, and the flaccid FLYNN, all shouting together. But + SEXTON beat them all, and will duly figure in Parliamentary + Report as Vindicator of Nationality, Defender of St. Patrick, + and Patron of Private O'GRADY.</p> + + <p>"There's nothing new about Ireland," said POLTALLOCH, + talking the matter over later in the Lobby. "'Tis the most + distressful country that ever yet was seen, Where they punish + T. O'GRADY For the wearing of the Green."</p> + + <p><i>Business done</i>.—Small Holdings Bill read Second + Time.</p> + + <p><i>Friday Night</i>.—House behaved nobly to-night; + FENWICK brought forward Motion proposing payment of Members. + House arbiter of situation; might have voted itself anything a + year it pleased. Only say the word, and JOKIM would have been + bound to find the money. Members flocked down in large numbers: + CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN, seated on Front Opposition Bench, declares + he could distinctly hear smacking of lips of Hon. Members below + Gangway when FENWICK observed he thought £365 a year would be + reasonable allowance. However insidious temptation may have + been, it was nobly resisted. Of nearly 400 Members who took + part in Division, only 162 reached out their hand for the + pittance, 227 lofty souls going into other Lobby.</p> + + <p><i>Business done</i>.—Private Bill Procedure Bill + brought in.</p> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:70%;"> + <a href="images/168.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/168.png" + alt="'SAFETY MATCHES' FOR LIFE." /></a>"'SAFETY + MATCHES' FOR LIFE.—The following notice has been + issued by the Salvation Army: 'Safety matches are now + made by the Social Wing without sulphur or phosphorus, + which will flame without striking. What do we mean? + Just this. That if you are unmarried, and do not know + where to chose a partner, you can communicate with + Colonel BARKER, Matrimonial Bureau, 101, Queen + Victoria Street, E.C., and he will most probably + supply you with just what you want—somebody + loveable and good.'" + </div> + <hr /> + + <h3>VERY ORCHID!</h3> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>["The more I think about it, the more I am convinced + that the life of a Peer is not a happy one."—<i>Mr. + Chamberlain, before the Jewellers' and Silversmiths' + Association at Birmingham</i>.]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The Orchid is a thoughtful plant—it loves the + lordly hot-house,</p> + + <p>And naturally reprobates poor gilliflowers as + "pot-house;"</p> + + <p>'Tis rich, exotic, somewhat miscellaneously + florid;</p> + + <p>The rough herbaceous annuals it vulgar deems, and + horrid.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>With all that's forced and precious it should + fraternise in reason,</p> + + <p>With luscious fruits and rarest roots, and produce + out of season;</p> + + <p>It may perhaps at primroses a condescending hand + point;</p> + + <p>It might be friends with stocks—but from a + pure commercial standpoint.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And yet—it is a thoughtful plant—though + such a growth fastidious,</p> + + <p>The proud but simple strawberry still seems to it + invidious;</p> + + <p>Those ducal leaves that shine and twine around the + nation's garden,</p> + + <p>It fancies more delectable than all the blooms of + Hawarden.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>This orchid's bosom bleeds to feel that, while he + flaunts in colour,</p> + + <p>The chaplet of the strawberry should duller pine and + duller,</p> + + <p>That obsoleteness, though delayed, should still be + on the <i>tapis</i>,</p> + + <p>That, pending its extinction, its existence isn't + happy.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>O courtly leaves of strawberries, old England's + grace and glory,</p> + + <p>Emblazoned o'er the castle-keeps that moulder nigh + and hoary,</p> + + <p>What comfort for your drooping days, what balm in + dire dejection,</p> + + <p>That yonder orchid spruce extends his shelter and + protection.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But, garland sere of Vere de Vere, wan ornaments of + Fable,</p> + + <p>The orchid is a thoughtful plant, and likes a + gorgeous table;</p> + + <p>And, should from out your coronals one berry bright + be shining,</p> + + <p>His patronage may snap it up—to save it from + declining!</p> + </div> + </div> + <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, April 2, 1892, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 14390-h.htm or 14390-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/3/9/14390/ + +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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