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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:45:01 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:45:01 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/14652-0.txt b/14652-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2bf99aa --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1022 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14652 *** + +PUNCH, + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 102. + + + +June 4, 1892. + + + + +LOST LUGGAGE. + +(_OR THE EXPERIENCES OF A "VACUUS VIATOR."_) + +_At the Douane, Ostend._--Just off _Princesse Henriette_; passengers +hovering about excitedly with bunches of keys, waiting for their +luggage to be brought ashore. Why can't they take things quietly--like +_me_? _I_ don't worry. Saw my portmanteau and bag labelled at +Victoria. Sure to turn up in due time. Some men when they travel +insist on taking hand-bags into the carriage with them--foolish, when +they might have them put in the van and get rid of all responsibility. +The _douaniers_ are examining the luggage--don't see mine--as yet. +It's all _right_, of course. People who are going on to Brussels and +Antwerp at once would naturally have their luggage brought out first. +Don't see the good of rushing about like that myself. I shall stay the +night here--put up at one of the hotels on the Digue, dine, and get +through the evening pleasantly at the Kursaal--sure to be _something_ +going on. Then I can go comfortably on by a mid-day train to-morrow. +Meanwhile my luggage still tarries. If I was a nervous man--luckily +I'm _not_. Come--that's the _bag_ at all events, with everything I +shall want for the night.... Annoying. Some other fellow's bag.... +No more luggage being brought out. Getting anxious--at least, just a +shade uneasy. Perhaps if I asked somebody--Accost a Belgian porter; +he wants my baggage ticket. They never gave me any ticket. It _did_ +occur to me (in the train) that I had always had my luggage registered +on going abroad before, but I supposed _they_ knew best, and didn't +worry. I came away to get a rest and avoid worry, and I _won't_ +worry.... The Porter and I have gone on board to hunt for the things. +They aren't _there_. Left behind at Dover probably. Wire for them at +once. No idea how difficult it was to describe luggage vividly and +yet economically till I tried. However, it will be sent on by the next +boat, and arrive some time in the evening, so it's of no consequence. +Now for the Hotel. Ask for the bus for the _Continental_. The +_Continental_ is not open yet. Very well, the _Hôtel de la Plage_, +then. Closed! All the hotels facing the sea _are_, it seems. +Sympathetic Porter recommends one in the town, and promises to come +and tell me as soon as the luggage turns up. + +[Illustration: "Please, de tings!"] + +_At the Hotel._--Find, on getting out of the omnibus, that the Hotel +is being painted; entrance blocked by ladders and pails. Squeeze past, +and am received in the hall by the Proprietress and a German Waiter. +"Certainly they can give me a room--my baggage shall be taken up +immed--" Here I have to explain that this is impracticable, as my +baggage has unfortunately been left behind. Think I see a change in +their manner at this. A stranger who comes abroad with nothing but +a stick and an umbrella cannot _expect_ to inspire confidence, I +suppose. I remark to the Waiter that the luggage is sure to follow me +by the next boat, but it strikes even myself that I do not bring this +out with quite a sincere ring. Not at all the manner of a man who +possesses a real portmanteau. I order dinner--the kind of dinner, +I feel, that a man who did not intend to pay for it _would_ order. +I detect this impression in the Waiter's eye. If he dared, I know +he would suggest tea and a boiled egg as more seemly under the +circumstances. + +_On the Digue._--Thought, it being holiday time, that there would +be more gaiety; but Ostend just now perhaps a little lacking in +liveliness--hotels, villas, and even the Kursaal all closely boarded +up with lead-coloured shutters. Only other person on Promenade a +fisher-boy scrooping over the tiles in _sabots_. I come to a glazed +shelter, and find the seats choked with drifting sand, and protected +with barbed wire. This depresses me. I did not want to sit down--but +the barbed wire _does_ seem needlessly unkind. Walk along the +sand-dunes; must pass the time somehow till dinner, and the arrival of +my luggage. Wonder whether it really _was_ labelled "Ostend." Suppose +the porter thought I said "Rochester" ... in that case--I will _not_ +worry about it like this. I will go back and see the town. + +I have; it is like a good many other foreign towns. I am melancholy. +I _can't_ dismiss that miserable luggage from my mind. To be alone +in a foreign land, without so much as a clean sock, is a distressing +position for a sensitive person. If I could only succeed in seeing a +humorous element in it, it would be _something_--but I can't. It is +too forlorn to be at all funny. And there is still an hour and a half +to get through before dinner! + +I have dined--in a small room, with a stove, a carved buffet, and a +portrait of the King of the BELGIANS; but my spirits are still low. +German Waiter dubious about me; reserving his opinion for the present. +He comes in with a touch of new deference in his manner. "Please, +a man from de shdation for you." I go out--to find the sympathetic +Porter. My baggage has arrived? It has; it is at the Douane, waiting +for me. I am saved! I tell the Waiter, without elation, but with +what, I trust, is a calm dignity--the dignity of a man who has been +misunderstood, but would scorn to resent it. + +_At the Station._--I have accompanied the Porter to the Terminus, such +a pleasant helpful fellow, so intelligent! The Ostend streets much +less dull at night. Feel relieved, in charity with all the world, now +that my prodigal portmanteau is safely reclaimed. Porter takes me +into a large luggage-room. Don't see my things just at first. "Your +baggage--_ere!_" says the Porter, proudly, and points out a little +drab valise with shiny black leather covers and brass studs--the kind +of thing a man goes a journey with in a French Melodrama! He is quite +hurt when I repudiate it indignantly; he tries to convince me that +it is mine--the fool! There is no other baggage of any sort, and mine +can't possibly arrive now before to-morrow afternoon, if then. Nothing +for it but to go back, luggageless, to the Hotel--and face that +confounded Waiter. + +Walk about the streets. Somehow I don't feel quite up to going back +to the Hotel just yet. The shops, which are small and rather dimly +lighted, depress me. There is no theatre, nor _café chantant_ open +apparently. If there were, I haven't the heart for them to-night. Hear +music from a small _estaminet_ in a back street; female voice, with +fine Cockney accent, is singing "_Oh, dem Golden Slippers!_" Wonder +where _my_ slippers are! + +_In my Bedroom._--I have had to come back at last, and get it +over with the Waiter. If he felt _any_ surprise, I think it was +to see me back at all. I have had to ask him if he could get me +some sleeping-things to pass the night in. _And_ a piece of soap. +Humiliating, but unavoidable. He promised, but he has not brought +them. Probably this last request has done for me, and he is now +communicating with the police.... + +A tap at my door. "Please, de tings!" says the Waiter. I have wronged +him. He has brought me _such_ a nightgown! Never saw anything in the +least like it before. It has flowers embroidered all down the front +and round the cuffs, and on every button something is worked in tiny +blue letters, which, on inspection, turns out to be "Good-night." I +don't quite know why, but, in my present state, I find this strangely +consoling, and even touching--like a benediction. After all, he _must_ +believe in me, or he would hardly confide his purple and fine linen to +me like this. Go to bed gorgeous, and dream that my portmanteau, bag, +and self-respect are all restored to me by the afternoon boat.... +There must be something in dreams, for, oddly enough, this is exactly +what _does_ happen. + +Next morning, at breakfast, I am handed a mysterious and, at first +sight, rather alarming telegram from the Station-master at Dover. +"Your bones will be sent on next boat." Suspect the word in the +original was "_boxes_." But they may call them what they like, so +long as I get them back again. + + * * * * * + +"_The Campaign against the Jebus. Gallant Advance of the British._" +Dear old Mrs. RAM wants to know "who is commanding the British forces +in the campaign against the Jebus" (which she spells "Gibus")? +_Mr. Punch_ is glad to inform his estimable correspondent that the +principal officers commanding in the Gibus Campaign are Generals +WIDE-AWAKE, BILLICOCK, JIMCROW, POTT, and BELTOPPER. Their strategical +movements are worthy of the First Nap. + + * * * * * + +CONSIDERATE.--Arrangements are to be made for all Standing Committees +in future to sit at certain hours. "For this relief, much thanks," as +WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, M.P., observed. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: RECIPROCAL. + +_Sporting Gentleman._ "WELL, SIR, I'M VERY PLEASED TO HAVE MADE YOUR +ACQUAINTANCE, AND HAD THE OPPORTUNITY OF HEARING A CHURCHMAN'S VIEWS +ON THE QUESTION OF TITHES. OF COURSE, AS A COUNTRY LANDOWNER, I'M +INTERESTED IN CHURCH MATTERS, AND--" + +_The Parson._ "QUITE SO--DELIGHTED, I'M SURE. ER--BY THE BYE, COULD +YOU TELL ME _WHAT'S WON TO-DAY_?"] + + * * * * * + +THE BURIAL OF THE "BROAD-GAUGE." + +MAY 23, 1892. + + ["Drivers of Broad-Gauge Engines wandering disconsolately + about with their engine-lamps in their hands; followed by + their firemen with pick and shovel over their shoulder, + waiting in anxious expectation of the time when that + new-fangled machine, a narrow-gauge engine, should come down + a day or two after."--_Times' Special at Plymouth on Death of + Broad Gauge._] + + Not a whistle was heard, not a brass bell-note, + As his corse o'er the sleepers we hurried; + Not a fog-signal wailed from a husky throat + O'er the grave where our "Broad-Gauge" we buried. + + We buried him darkly, at dead of night, + The sod with our pickaxes turning, + By the danger-signal's ruddy light, + And our oil-lamps dimly burning. + + No useless tears, though we loved him well! + Long years to his fire-box had bound us. + We fancied we glimpsed the great shade of BRUNEL, + In sad sympathy hovering round us. + + Few and gruff were the words we said, + But we thought, with a natural sorrow, + Of the Narrow-Gauge foe of the Loco. just dead, + _We_ should have to attend on the morrow. + + We thought, as we hollowed his big broad bed, + And piled the brown earth o'er his funnel, + How his foe o'er the Great-Western metals would tread, + Shrieking triumph through cutting and tunnel. + + Lightly they'll talk of him now he is gone, + For the cheap "Narrow Gauge" has outstayed him, + Yet BULL _might_ have found, had he let it go on, + That BRUNEL's Big Idea would have paid him! + + But the battle is ended, our task is done; + After forty years' fight he's retiring.[1] + This hour sees thy triumph, O STEPHENSON; + Old "Broad Gauge" no more will need firing. + + The "Dutchman" must now be "divided in two"!-- + Well, well, they shan't mangle or mess _you_! + Accept the last words of friends faithful, if few:-- + "Good-bye, poor old Broad-Gauge, God bless you!"[2] + + Slowly and sadly we laid him down. + He has filled a great chapter in story. + We sang not a dirge--we raised not a stone, + But we left the "Broad Gauge" to his glory! + +[Footnote 1: The Royal Commission appointed to inquire into the + uniformity of railway gauges, presented their report to Parliament + on May 30, 1846.] + +[Footnote 2: Words found written on one of the G.-W. rails.] + + * * * * * + +TO A DEAR YOUNG FEMININE FRIEND, WHO SPELT "WAGON" AS "WAGGON." + + Bad spelling? Oh dear no! So tender, she + Wished that the cart should have an extra "_gee_." + + * * * * * + +KILLING NO MURDER. + +(_TO THE EDITOR OF "PUNCH."_) + +MY DEAR SIR,--I have just been reading with a great deal of surprise +"_The Life and Letters of Charles Samuel Keene_, by GEORGE SOMES +LAYARD." Seeing the name of one of your colleagues as the first line +of the "Index," I turned to page 74 and looked him out. I found him +mentioned in an account given by Mr. M.H. SPIELMANN of the _Punch_ +Dinner, which Mr. GEORGE SOMES LAYARD had extracted from _Black and +White_, no doubt to assist in making up his book. The following is +the quotation:--"The Editor, as I have said, presides; should he be +unavoidably absent, another writer--usually, nowadays, Mr. ARTHUR +A'BECKETT--takes his place, the duty never falling to an artist." +Then, to show how thoroughly Mr. GEORGE SOMES LAYARD is up to date, +he adds to the name of Mr. ARTHUR A'BECKETT (after the fashion of +_Mr. Punch_ in the drama disposing of the clown or the beadle), "since +dead." Now Mr. ARTHUR A'BECKETT is not dead, but very much alive. +Do you not think, Sir, it would be better were gentlemen who write +about yourself and your colleagues, to verify their facts before they +attempt to give obituary notices, even if they be as brief as the one +in question? + + Yours, truly, + MORE GAY THAN GRAVE. + + * * * * * + +NEW AND APPROPRIATE NAME FOR MODERN PUGILISM.--The "Nobble" Art. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE BURIAL OF THE "BROAD-GAUGE."] + + * * * * * + +STUDIES IN THE NEW POETRY. + +The world is of course aware by this time that a New Poetry has +arisen, and has asserted itself by the mouths of many loud-voiced +"boomers." It has been _Mr. Punch's_ good fortune to secure several +specimens of this new product, not through the intervention of middle +men, but from the manufacturers themselves. He proposes to publish +them for the benefit and enlightenment of his readers. But first a +word of warning. There are perhaps some who believe that a poem should +not only express high and noble thoughts, or recount great deeds, but +that it should do so in verse that is musical, cadenced, rhythmical, +instinct with grace, and reserved rather than boisterous. If any +such there be, let them know at once that they are hopelessly +old-fashioned. The New Poetry in its _highest_ expression banishes +form, regularity and rhythm, and treats rhyme with unexampled +barbarity. Here and there, it is true, rhymes get paired off quite +happily in the conventional manner, but directly afterwards you may +come upon a poor weak little rhyme who will cry in vain for his mate +through half a dozen interloping lines. Indeed, cases have been known +of rhymes that have been left on a sort of desert island of a verse, +and have never been fetched away. And sometimes when the lines have +got chopped very short, the rhymes have tumbled overboard altogether. +That is really what is meant by "impressionism" in poetry carried to +its highest excellence. There are, of course, other forms of the New +Poetry. There is the "blustering, hob-nailed" variety which clatters +up and down with immense noise, elbows you here, and kicks you there, +and if it finds a pardonable weakness strolling about in the middle of +the street, immediately knocks it down and tramples upon it. Then too +there is the "coarse, but manly" kind which swears by the great god, +Jingo, and keeps a large stock of spread eagles always ready to swoop +and tear without the least provocation. + +However, _Mr. Punch_ may as well let his specimens speak for +themselves. Here, then, is + +NO. I.--A GRAVESEND GREGORIAN. + +BY W.E. H-NL-Y. (_CON BRIO._) + + Deep in a murky hole, + Cavernous, untransparent, fetid, dank, + The demiurgus of the servants' hall, + The scuttle-bearing buttons, boon and blank + And grimy loads his evening load of coals, + Filled with respect for the cook's and butler's rank, + Lo, the round cook half fills the hot retreat, + Her kitchen, where the odours of the meat, + The cabbage and sweets all merge as in a pall, + The stale unsavoury remnants of the feast. + Here, with abounding confluences of onion, + Whose vastitudes of perfume tear the soul + In wish of the not unpotatoed stew, + They float and fade and flutter like morning dew. + And all the copper pots and pans in line, + A burnished army of bright utensils, shine; + And the stern butler heedless of his bunion + Looks happy, and the tabby-cat of the house + Forgets the elusive, but recurrent mouse + And purrs and dreams; + And in his corner the black-beetle seems + A plumed Black Prince arrayed in gleaming mail; + Whereat the shrinking scullery-maid grows pale, + And flies for succour to THOMAS of the calves, + Who, doing nought by halves, + Circles a gallant arm about her waist, + And takes unflinching the cheek-slap of the chaste + And giggling fair, nor counts his labour lost. + Then, beer, beer, beer. + Spume-headed, bitter, golden like the gold + Buried by cutlassed pirates tempest-tossed, + Red-capped, immitigable, over-bold + With blood and rapine, spreaders of fire and fear. + The kitchen table + Is figured with the ancient, circular stains + Of the pint-pot's bottom; beer is all the go. + And every soul in the servants' hall is able + To drink his pint or hers until they grow + Glorious with golden beer, and count as gains + The glowing draughts that presage morning pains. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: QUITE UNANSWERABLE. + +_Ethel._ "MAMMY DEAR! WHY DO YOU POWDER YOUR FACE, AND WHY DOES THOMAS +POWDER HIS HAIR? I DON'T DO EITHER!"] + + * * * * * + +EPISCOPACY IN DANGER.--_Mr. Punch_ congratulates Dr. PEROWNE, Bishop +of Worcester, on his narrow fire-escape some days ago, when his lawn +sleeves (a costume more appropriate for a garden-party than a pulpit) +caught fire. It was extinguished by a bold Churchwarden. In future let +Churchwardens be prepared with hose whenever a prelate runs any chance +of ignition from his own "burning eloquence." If _Mr. Punch's_ advice +as above is acted upon, a Bishop if "put out" may probably mutter, +"Darn your hose." But this can be easily explained away. + + * * * * * + +BETTER AND BETTER.--The Report last week about Sir ARTHUR SULLIVAN +was that "he hopes to go to the country shortly." So do our political +parties. Sir ARTHUR cannot restrain himself from writing new and +original music at a rapid pace. This, is a consequence of his having +taken so many composing draughts. + + * * * * * + +"OUR BOOKING OFFICE."--Not open this week, as the Baron has been +making a book. Interesting subject, "On the Derby and Oaks." Being +in sporting mood, the Baron adopts as his motto King SOLOMON's +words of wisdom, out of his (King SOLOMON's) own mines of golden +treasures,--"And of book-making there is no end." He substitutes +"book-making" for "making of books," and with the poetic CAMPBELL +(HERBERT of that ilk) he sings, "it makes no difference." + + * * * * * + +AFTER THE EVENT.--Last Sunday week was the one day in the year when +ancient Joe Millers were permissible. It was "Chestnut Sunday." We +didn't like to mention it before. + + * * * * * + +The Royal General Theatrical Fund Dinner, held last Thursday, will be +remembered in the annals of the Stage as "ALEXANDER's Feast." + + * * * * * + +HORACE IN LONDON. TO A COQUETTE. (AD PYRRHAM.) + +[Illustration] + + What stripling, flowered and scent-bedewed, + Now courts thee in what solitude? + For whom dost thou in order set + Thy tresses' aureole, Coquette. + + "Neat, but not gaudy"?--Soon Despond + (Too soon!) at flouted faith and fond, + Soon tempests halcyon tides above + Shall wreck this raw recruit of Love; + + Who counts for gold each tinsel whim, + And hopes thee always all for him, + And trusts thee, smiling, spite of doom + And traitorous breezes! Hapless, whom + + Thy glamour holds untried. For me, + I've dared enough that fitful sea; + Its "breach of promise" grim hath curst + Both purse and person with its worst. + + My "dripping weeds" are doffed; and I + Sit "landed," like my wine, and "dry;" + What "weeds" survive I smoke, and rub + My hands in harbour at my Club! + + * * * * * + +OPERATIC NOTES. + +_Monday._--_L'Amico Fritz_ at last! Better late than never. A Dramatic +Operatic Idyl. "Nothing in it," as _Sir Charles Coldstream_ observes, +except the music, the singing, and the acting of Signor DE LUCIA as +_Fritz_ Our Friend, of M. DUFRICHE as the _Rabbi_ of Mlle. GIULIA +RAVOGLI as _Boy Beppe_, of Mlle. BAUERMEISTER as _Caterina_, and of +Madame CALVÉ as _Suzel_. Not an indifferent performer or singer among +them, and not an individual in the audience indifferent to their +performance. Cherry-Tree Duet, between _Suzel_ and _Fritz_, great hit. +Admirably sung and acted, and vociferously encored. Nay, they would +have had it three times if they could, but though Sir DRURIOLANUS sets +his face against encores, allowing not too much encore but just encore +enough, he, as an astute Manager, cannot see why persons who have +paid to hear a thing only once should hear it three times for the same +money. No; if they like it so much that they want it again, and must +have it, and won't be happy till they get it, then let them encore +their own performance of paying for their seats, and come and hear +their favourite _morçeaux_ over and over again as often as they like +to pay. He will grant one encore no more. Sir DRURIOLANUS is right. Do +we insist on Mr. IRVING giving us "To be or not to be," or any other +soliloquy, all over again, simply because he has done it once so well? +Do we ask Mr. J.L. TOOLE to repeat his author's good jokes--or his own +when his author has failed him? No; we applaud to the echo, we laugh +till, as Mr. CHEVALIER says, "we thort we should ha' died," but +we don't encore the comic jokes, telling situations, or serious +soliloquies as rendered by our accomplished histrions. + +[Illustration: The Rabbinical-Hat-Beer-Jug.] + +Were a collection of pictures made of Mlle. BAUERMEISTER in different +characters, it would, for interest and variety, become a formidable +rival of the CHARLES MATHEWS series now in the possession of the +Garrick Club. To-night she is the busy, bustling _Caterina_, _Friend +Fritz's_ housekeeper, who, as she has to provide all the food for +their breakfast, and set it on the table, might be distinguished as +_Catering Caterina_. No one now cares to see an Opera without Mlle. +BAUERMEISTER in it, whether she appear as a dashing lady of the Court, +probably in a riding-habit, or as a middle-class German housekeeper, +or as Cupid God of Love, or as _Juliet's_ ancient nurse, or as an +impudent waiting-maid, or as an unhappy mother, or as,--well,--any +number of characters that I cannot now recall, but all done +excellently well. Never have I heard of her being either "sick or +sorry." Some few seasons ago I drew public attention to this most +useful and ornamental _artiste_, and now I am glad to see that here +and there a critic has awoke to the fact of her existence, and has +done her tardy justice. Long may the Bauermeistersinger be able to +give her valuable assistance, without which no Covent Garden Opera +Company could possibly be perfect. + +[Illustration: Bob-Cherry Duet.] + +As to _L'Amico Fritz_, I should suggest that it be played in one +Scene and two Acts. That this one Scene should be the Exterior of +Cherry-Tree Farm (which should be _Fritz's_, not the _Rabbi's_) +and that instead of lowering the Curtain, the _intermezzo_--not I +venture to opine equal to the marvellous _intermezzo_ in _Cavalleria +Rusticana_--should be played. _L'Amico_ is certain of an encore, and +this will give the singers a rest. It could then commence at nine--a +more convenient hour to those who would like to hear every note of it, +than 8:15, and it would be over by eleven sharp. A nod is as good as a +wink to Sir DRURIOLANUS, but all the same, Heaven forefend I should +be guilty of either indiscretion in the Imperial Operatorial presence. +Thus much at present. + +_Friday._--"It's the smiles of its AUGUSTUS and the heat of its +July"--adapted quotation from "Old Song." "I cannot sing the old +song"--except under a sense of the deepest and most unpardonable +provocation; and when I do!!--_Cave canem, ruat coelum!_ I bring down +the house as Madame DELILAH's SAMSON did. To-night _Manon_ is indeed +warmly welcomed. "A nice Opera," says a young lady, fanning herself. +"I wish it were an iced Opera," groans WAGSTAFF, re-issuing one of +his earliest side-splitters. M. VAN DYCK strong as the weak _Des +Grieux_, but Madame MRAVINA apparently not strong enough. "What made +author-chap think of calling her _Manon_?" asks languid person in +Stalls. WAGSTAFF, revived after an iced B.-and-S., is equal to the +occasion. "Such a bad lot, you know--regular man-catcher; hooked a +_man on_, then, when he was done with, hooked another man on. Reason +for name evident, see?" The _Cavalleria Rusticana_ is the favourite +for Derby Night. All right up to now, Sir DRURIOLANUS. + + * * * * * + +TENNER SONG FOR DERBY DAY.--"_He's got it on!_" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: WHAT OUR ARTIST (THE SMALL AND SUSCEPTIBLE ONE) HAS TO +PUT UP WITH. + +_Miss Binks._ "PRAY, MR. TITMOUSE, WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DRAW SUCH +IMMENSELY TALL WOMEN?" + +_Our Artist._ "WELL, MISS BINKS, I SUPPOSE IT'S BECAUSE I'M SUCH A +TINY LITTLE MAN MYSELF. CONTRAST, YOU SEE!" + +_Miss Binks._ "AH, YES, CONTRAST! THAT IS HOW WE TINY LITTLE WOMEN +ALWAYS ATTRACT ALL THE FINE TALL MEN! THAT'S HOW _WE_ SCORE!" + +_Our Artist._ "EXACTLY. I ONLY WISH TO GOODNESS YOU'D ATTRACT THAT +VERY FINE TALL MAN AWAY FROM MISS JONES--THEN _I_ MIGHT HAVE A CHANCE, +PERHAPS!"] + + * * * * * + +A VERY "DARK HORSE." + + ["The Country knows ... what it is we desire to do. What the + Right Hon. Gentleman (Mr. GLADSTONE) desires to do no human + being knows. If we have done our part, as we have done, to + clear the issues, all we can ask him is to do his part, to + lay before the electorate of this country in the same plain, + unmistakable outline, the policy which he desires to see + adopted."--_Mr. Balfour on Second Reading of Irish Local + Government Bill._] + + SCENE--_The Paddock, before the Great Race. Rising Young + Jockey_, ARTHUR BALFOUR, _mounted on the Crack Irish Horse. + Enter Grand Old Jockey, at the moment minus a mount._ + +_Grand Old Jockey_ (_aside_). Humph! Don't look so bad, now, despite + the dead set + That against him we've made since his very first running, + Do they mean him to win after all? Artful set, + That Stable! It strikes me they've been playing cunning. + One wouldn't have backed him, first off, for a bob. + His owner concerning him scarcely seemed caring. + Eugh! No one supposed he was fair "on the job"; + A mere trial-horse, simply "out for an airing." + When he first stripped in public he looked such a screw, + He was hailed with a general chorus of laughter; + Young BAL seemed abashed at the general yahboo! + And pooh-poohed his new mount! What the doose is he after? + I'm bound to admit the Horse _looks_ pretty fit, + And the boy sits him well, and as though he meant _trying_. + I say, this won't do! I must bounce him a bit. + Most awkward, you know, if his "slug" takes to _flying_! + +_Rising Young Jockey_ (_aside_). Hillo! There's Old WILLIAM! He's out + on the scoot. + The artful Old Hand! Hope he'll like what he looks on! + He slated this nag as a peacocky brute, + Whose utter collapse they've been building their books on. + How now, my spry veteran? Only a boy + On a three-legged crock? Well, I own you are older, + And watching your riding's a thing to enjoy; + There isn't a Jock who is defter _and_ bolder; + Your power, authority, eloquence--yes, + For your gift of the gab is a caution--are splendid; + But--the youngster _may_ teach you a lesson, I guess, + As to judgment of pace ere the contest is ended. + +_Grand Old Jockey_ (_aloud_). Well, ARTHUR my lad, in the saddle + again! + Is _that_ your crack mount? + +_Rising Young Jockey._ The identical one, WILL. + +_Grand Old Jockey._ Dear, dear, what a pity! It quite gives me pain + To see you so wasted. + +_Rising Young Jockey._ That's only your fun, WILL. + +_Grand Old Jockey._ Nay, nay, not at all! Don't think much of his + points. + He's not bred like a true-blood, nor built like a winner. + Not well put together, so coarse in his joints, + In fact--only fit for a hunting-pack's dinner! + +_Rising Young Jockey_ (_laughing_). Oh! "Cat's-meat!" is your cry, is + it, WILLIAM? Well, well! + We shall see about that when the winning-post's handy. + +_Grand Old Jockey._ _You_ won't, my brave boy; that a novice could + tell. + You'll be left in the ruck at the end, my young dandy, + +_Rising Young Jockey._ Perhaps! Still the pencillers haven't,--as + yet-- + Quite knocked the nag out with their furious fever + Of hot opposition. Some cool ones still bet + On his chance of a win. + +_Grand Old Jockey_ (_contemptuously_). Ah, you're wonderful clever. + But we have got one in _our_ Stable, my lad, + Who can--just lick his head off! + +_Rising Young Jockey_ (_drily_). Now have you indeed, WILL? + I fancy I've heard that before. Very glad + That your lot are in luck; and I hope you'll succeed, WILL, + But bless me! yours seems such a _very_ Dark Horse! + Oh! there, don't fire up so! Your word I won't doubt, WILL. + You say so, and one must believe you, of course; + But--_isn't_ it time that you _brought the nag out_, WILL? + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A VERY "DARK HORSE." + +OLD JOCKEY. "DON'T THINK MUCH OF HIS POINTS! WE'VE ONE IN OUR STABLE +CAN LICK HIS HEAD OFF!" + +YOUNG JOCKEY. "_HAVE_ YOU? THEN WHY DON'T YOU _BRING HIM OUT_?"] + + * * * * * + +HISTORY AS SHE IS PLAYED! + +_Questioner._ Why should M.V. SARDOU be called the Historian of the + French Revolution? + +_Answerer._ Because in _Thermidor_ he has given an entirely new + version of the "Reign of Terror." + +_Q._ Was the "Reign of Terror" very terrible? + +_A._ Not very. At the Opéra Comique it had its comic side. + +_Q._ How was that? + +_A._ For instance, _les tricoteuses_ were represented by comely, + albeit plump maidens, who seemed more inclined to dance round a + Maypole than haunt a scaffold. + +_Q._ Were ROBESPIERRE, ST. JUST, and the rest, cruel and vindictive? + +_A._ I should say not; and I found my conclusion on the fact that they + engaged an actor given to practical joking as an officer of the Public + Security. + +_Q._ From this, do you take it that ROBESPIERRE must have had a subtle +sense of humour? + +_A._ I do; and the impression is strengthened by his order for a + general slaughter of Ursuline Nuns. + +_Q._ Why should he order such a massacre? + +_A._ To catch the heroine of _Thermidor_, a lady who had taken the + vows under the impression that her lover had been killed by the enemy. + +_Q._ Had her lover been killed? + +_A._ Certainly not; he had preferred to surrender. + +_Q._ Can you give me any idea of the component part of a revolutionary + crowd? + +_A._ At the Opéra Comique, a revolutionary crowd seems to consist of + a number of mournful loungers, who have nothing to do save to take + a languid interest in the fate of a tearful maiden, and a few _gens + d'armes_ a little uncertain about their parade-ground. + +_Q._ How do the mournful loungers express their interest in the fate + of the tearful maiden? + +_A._ By pointing her out one to another, and when she is ordered off + to execution removing their hats, and fixing I their attention on + something concealed behind the scenes. + +_Q._ What is your present idea of the Reign of Terror? + +_A._ My present idea of the Reign of Terror is, that it was the + mildest thing imaginable. In my opinion, not even a child in arms + would have been frightened at it. + +_Q._ Do you not consider M. MAYER deserving of honour? + +_A._ Certainly I do. For has he not removed (with the assistance of M. + SARDOU and the Opéra Comique) several fond illusions of my youth? + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: NATURE V. ART. + +_Æsthetic Friend._ "YES, THIS ROOM'S RATHER NICE, ALL BUT THE WINDOW, +WITH THESE LARGE BLANK PANES OF PLATE-GLASS! I SHOULD LIKE TO SEE SOME +SORT OF PATTERN ON THEM--LITTLE SQUARES OR LOZENGES OR ARABESQUES--" + +_Philistine._ "WELL, BUT THOSE LOVELY CHERRY BLOSSOMS, AND THE LAKE, +AND THE DISTANT MOUNTAIN, AND THE BEAUTIFUL SUNSETS, AND THE PURPLE +CLOUDS--ISN'T THAT PATTERN ENOUGH?"] + + * * * * * + +THE MORNING OF THE DERBY.--_Hamlet_ considering whether he shall go +to Epsom for the great race or not, soliloquises, "Der-_be_ or not +Der-_be_, that is the question." [N.B.--As to the other lines, go as +you please. "The rest is silence."] + + * * * * * + +"MARRIED AND SINGLE" should be played by Lady-Cricketers. No single +young person under seventeen should be permitted an innings, as any +two sweet sixteens would be "not out," and there would be no chance +for the other side. Match-makers are only interested in the Single. + + * * * * * + +LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--For the first time have I seen myself in print!--and +I must say I think it very becoming--and so nice and cool too this +hot weather! You are indeed a sweet creature for adopting my idea +so readily--and I really must say that if these obstinate Members of +Parliament who oppose Women's Suffrage would only alter their views, +it would be much better for the Country--or worse--I don't know which! + +[Illustration] + +Sir MINTING BLOUNDELL, whose criticism on my contribution to your +well-written journal I invited, complimented me on my style, and +suggested that when giving my selections it might be as well to +refer to the "Home Trials" of the horses mentioned--but I venture +to disagree with him! Goodness knows we all have home trials enough! +(Lord ARTHUR and I frequently do not speak for a week unless someone +is present)--but I do not think these things should be made public, +and besides, it is an unwritten law amongst "smart" people to avoid +subjects that "chafe"--which sounds like an anachronism--whatever that +means! Having an opportunity of a "last word" on the Derby, I should +like to say that, although my confidence in my last week's selection, +_La Flêche_, is unshaken, I wish to have a second "arrow" to my bow +in _Llanthony_--of whom a very keen judge of racing (Lord BOURNEMOUTH +to wit) has formed the opinion that--in his own words--"he will be +on the premises"! The premises in question being Epsom Downs, there +will undoubtedly be room for him without his filling an unnecessarily +prominent position, so I will couple _Llanthony_ with _La Flêche_ to +supply the probable last in the Derby. + +Meanwhile, I must say a word or two about the Ladies' Race at Epsom +on Friday next. There is absolutely no knowing what will start for +the Oaks nowadays until the numbers go up--and no Turf Prophet will +venture a selection until the morning of the race--and _this_ is where +the perspicuity of an Editor like yourself, _Mr. Punch_, scores a +distinct hit--for such a paltry consideration as "knowing nothing +about it" is not likely to daunt a woman who takes as her motto the +well-known line from SHAKSPEARE: "Thus Angels rush where Cowards fear +to tread!"--so herewith I confidently append my verse selection for +the last Mare in the Oaks! + + Yours devotedly, + LADY GAY. + +THE TIP. + + 'Tis the voice of the Sluggard, I hear him complain, + You have waked me too soon--an unpleasant surprise! + In an hour or so later pray call me again, + When, if feeling refreshed, I will straightway "_Arise!_" + + * * * * * + +QUITE IN KEEPING.--The Earl of DYSART has left the ranks of the +Liberal Unionists and become a Gladstonian Home-Ruler. "What more +natural?" asked one of his former Unionist friends. "Of course he's +dysarted us!" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A MISUNDERSTANDING. + +_He._ "OH, IF I'D ONLY BEEN A 'BEAR'!" + +_She._ "IF YOU HAD BEEN, YOU COULDN'T GROWL WORSE THAN YOU DO!"] + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. + +_House of Commons, Monday, May 23._--REDMOND, Junior, said really +funny thing just now. Rising to take part in resumed Debate on Irish +Local Government Bill, he announced in loud angry tone that it would +be waste of time to discuss a Bill the Government evidently did not +intend to press through this Session, and he for one would be no party +to such a farce. Then he went on to talk for half an hour. + +[Illustration: "Joe!"] + +Debate on the whole something better than last week's contribution. +O'BRIEN delivered himself of glowing denunciation full of felicitous +phrases, all got through in half an hour. CHAMBERLAIN followed; +has not yet got over startling novelty of his interposition in +Debate being welcomed by loud cheers from Conservatives; thinks +of old Aston-Park days, when the cheering was, as WEBSTER (not +Attorney-General) says, "on the other boot." Now, when JOSEPH gets +up to demolish his Brethren sitting near, Conservatives opposite +settle themselves down with the peculiar rustling motion with which +a congregation in crowded church or chapel arrange themselves to +listen to a favourite preacher. Pretty to watch them as CHAMBERLAIN +goes forward with his speech, delighting them with surprise to find +how much better is their position than they thought when it was +recommended or extolled from their own side. JOSEPH not nearly so +acrimonious to-night as sometimes. Still, as usual, his speech +chiefly directed to his former Brethren who sit attentive, thinking +occasionally with regret of the fatal shallowness of the pit, and +the absence of arrangement for hermetically sealing it. If only--But +that is another story. COURTNEY at end of Bench is thinking of still +another, which has the rare charm of being true. It befel at a quiet +dinner where JOSEPH, finding himself in contiguity with Chairman of +Committees, took opportunity of rebuking him for his alleged laxity +in repressing disorder. + +[Illustration: The Fighting Colonel.] + +"I should like to know," he asked, "whether, supposing I were to fire +a pistol across the House, you would call it a breach of order." + +"I don't think, CHAMBERLAIN," said Prince ARTHUR, who was sitting at +the other side of the table, "that if you were going to fire a pistol +in the Commons, you would point it across the House." TIM HEALY just +back from Dublin, where he's been appearing in his favourite character +of pacificator; followed CHAMBERLAIN, and later came SAUNDERSON. But +even he suffered from prevailing tone of dulness, and WILFRID LAWSON, +fast asleep in the corner by Cross Benches, did not miss much. +_Business done._--More talk on Local Government Bill. + +_Tuesday._--If anyone looking on at House of Commons at three o'clock +this afternoon had predicted that within an hour it would be teeming +with life, brimming over with human interest, he would have been +looked upon with cold suspicion. NOLAN had taken the floor, and was +understood to be expressing his deliberate opinion on merits of Irish +Local Government Bill. He was certainly saying something, but what it +might be no man could tell. LYON PLAYFAIR, who is up in all kinds of +statistics, tells me 120 words per minute is the average utterance +of articulate speech. NOLAN was doing his 300, and sometimes exceeded +that rate. Not a comma in a column of it. A humming-top on the subject +would have been precisely as instructive and convincing. Some twenty +Members sat there fascinated by the performance. It was not delivered +in a monotone, in which case one could have slept. NOLAN was evidently +arguing in incisive manner, shirking no obstacle, avoiding no point +in the Bill, or any hit made by previous speaker. His voice rose and +fell with convincing modulation. He seemed to be always dropping into +an aside, which led him into another, that opened a sort of Clapham +Junction of converging points. One after the other, the Colonel, with +full steam up, ran along; when he reached terminus of siding, racing +back at sixty miles an hour; and so up and down another. Only guessed +this from modulation of his voice and the intelligent nodding of the +head with which he compelled the attention of ATTORNEY-GENERAL for +IRELAND. For just over half an hour he kept up this pace, and, saving +a trot for the avenue, fell back into his seat gasping for breath, +having concluded a sentence nine hundred words long worked off in +three minutes by the astonished clock. + +[Illustration: THE GLADSTONIAN BAGMAN. + +["I regard myself as a commercial traveller."--_Speech by Sir William +Harcourt at Bristol, May_ 11, 1892.]] + +[Illustration: "T.W."] + +An interval of T.W. RUSSELL, with one of his adroitly-argued, +lucidly-arranged speeches. Then Mr. G. and transformation scene. House +filled up as if by magic. In ten minutes not a seat vacant on floor; +Members running into Side Gallery, nimbly hopping over Benches, to get +on front line so as to watch as well as hear the last and the greatest +of the old Parliamentarians. As suddenly and swiftly as the House had +filled, the limp lay figure of the Debate throbbed with life. Scene of +the kind witnessed only once or twice in Session. Six hundred pair of +eyes all turned eagerly upon figure standing at Table, denouncing with +uplifted arm, and voice ringing with indignation, the iniquities of +the MARKISS, safely absent, and of his nephew, Prince ARTHUR, serenely +present. + +A great speech; an achievement which, if it stood alone, sufficient to +make a reputation. And yet, when result of Division announced, it was +found that majority of an iniquitous Government had run up to 92! + +Everyone delighted to hear the interesting news from 27, St. +James's Place, which gives an heir to the Spencer Earldom, and has +spread a feeling of joy and contentment throughout Althorpe and +Mid-Northamptonshire. The latest news, brought down just now by +MARJORIBANKS, is "BOBBY is doing as well as can be expected." +_Business done._--Irish Local Government Bill read Second Time, by +339 votes against 247. + +_Wednesday._--Hail! Sir HENRY WIGGIN, Bart, M.P.; B.B.K., as ARTHUR +ORTON called himself when resident in the wilds of Australia, and +explained that the style imported Baronet of the British Kingdom. +_Now_ we know what was the meaning of that foray upon the House the +other day, when, with the Chairman in the Chair, and Committee fully +constituted, the waggish WIGGIN walked adown the House, with his +hat cocked on one side of his head, in defiance of Parliamentary +etiquette. The Birthday Gazette was even then being drafted, and +to-day the wanton WIGGIN is Sir HENRY, Baronet of the United Kingdom. +_Not_ a more popular announcement in the list. An honest, kindly, +shrewd WIGGIN it is, with a face whose genial smile all people, +warming under it, instinctively return. + +_Business done._--WIGGIN made B.B.K. + +_Thursday._--Quite a long time reaching Vote on Account; two hours +taken for discussion of Birmingham Water Bill; Gentlemen in Radical +camp much exercised about size of fish in streams annexed for purposes +of Birmingham water supply. CHAMBERLAIN, who has charge of Bill, says +he never caught one longer than two inches. DILLWYN protests that +fishing in same waters he rarely caught one less than a pound weight. +Evidently a mistake somewhere. House perplexed, finally passed Bill +through Committee. + +[Illustration: The Noble Baron.] + +Then Rev. SAM SMITH wants to know more about Polynesian Labour +Traffic. The NOBLE BARON who has charge of Colonial affairs in +Commons, whilst controverting all his statements, says "everyone must +admit that the Hon. Member has spoken from his heart." "Which," NOVAR +says, "it reminds me of the couplet _Joe Gargery_ meant to put on the +tombstone of his lamented father, 'What-sume'er the failings on his +part, Remember, reader, he were that good in his hart.'" + +At length in Committee of Supply; Vote on Account moved; Mr. G. on his +feet wanting to know you know; doesn't once mention the Dissolution; +but puts it to Prince ARTHUR whether, really, the time hasn't come +when House should learn something with respect to intentions of +Government touching finance, their principal Bills, and, in short, "so +far foreshadowing the probable termination of the Session?" Wouldn't +on any account hurry him; any day he likes will do; only getting time +something should be said. Prince ARTHUR, gratefully acknowledging +Mr. G.'s kind way of putting it, agreed with his view. Some day he +will tell us something; to-day he will say nothing. A pretty bit +of by-play; excellently done by both leading Gentlemen; perfectly +understood by laughing House. + +_Business done._--Shadow of Dissolution gathering close. + +_Friday._--I see TAY PAY, in the interesting Sunday journal he +admirably edits, reproaches me because, in this particular page +of history, "Mr. SEXTON," he says, "is derided constantly and +shamefully." _Anglicè_: Occasionally when, in a faithful record of +Parliamentary events, SEXTON's part in the proceedings must needs be +noticed, it is gently hinted that among his many admirable qualities +terseness of diction is not prominent. In fact he has been sometimes +alluded to by the playful prefix WINDBAG. If TAY PAY had been +content to administer reproof, it would have been well. But he +goes on to discuss SEXTON's parliamentary style, and comes to this +conclusion:--"Mr. SEXTON's one fault as a speaker is that he does +not proportion his observations sufficiently at certain stages in his +speeches; and that preparation sometimes has the effect of tempting +him to over-elaboration." If TAY PAY likes to put it that way, no one +can object. Only, space in this journal being more valuable, the same +thing is said in a single word. + +_Business done._--Small Holdings Bill sent on to the Lords. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: OVERHEARD AT EARL'S COURT. + +_Old Buffer._ "UGH! I'M TIRED TO DEATH OF BEING HUNTED! BLESSED IF +I'LL RUN AWAY FROM THOSE BLANK CARTRIDGES AGAIN!" + +_Broncho._ "YES, YOU BET! AND I'VE MADE UP MY MIND TO QUIT BUCKING. +IT'S PERFECTLY SICKENING HAVING TO DO IT FROM YEAR'S END TO YEAR'S +END!"] + + * * * * * + +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, Vol. +102, June 4, 1892, by Various + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14652 *** diff --git a/14652-h/14652-h.htm b/14652-h/14652-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9bca73b --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/14652-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1543 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" + content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> + + <title>Punch, June 4, 1892.</title> + <style type="text/css"> + /*<![CDATA[*/ + + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + .note, .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt;} + + .poem + {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + .drama {margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .drama p {margin: 1em 0em 0em 0em;; padding-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em;} + .drama p.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;} + + p.author {text-align: right;} + --> + /*]]>*/ + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14652 ***</div> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 102.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>June 4, 1892.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page265" + id="page265"></a>[pg 265]</span> + + <h2>LOST LUGGAGE.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>Or the Experiences of a "Vacuus Viator."</i>)</h4> + + <p><i>At the Douane, Ostend.</i>—Just off <i>Princesse + Henriette</i>; passengers hovering about excitedly with bunches + of keys, waiting for their luggage to be brought ashore. Why + can't they take things quietly—like <i>me</i>? <i>I</i> + don't worry. Saw my portmanteau and bag labelled at Victoria. + Sure to turn up in due time. Some men when they travel insist + on taking hand-bags into the carriage with them—foolish, + when they might have them put in the van and get rid of all + responsibility. The <i>douaniers</i> are examining the + luggage—don't see mine—as yet. It's all + <i>right</i>, of course. People who are going on to Brussels + and Antwerp at once would naturally have their luggage brought + out first. Don't see the good of rushing about like that + myself. I shall stay the night here—put up at one of the + hotels on the Digue, dine, and get through the evening + pleasantly at the Kursaal—sure to be <i>something</i> + going on. Then I can go comfortably on by a mid-day train + to-morrow. Meanwhile my luggage still tarries. If I was a + nervous man—luckily I'm <i>not</i>. Come—that's the + <i>bag</i> at all events, with everything I shall want for the + night.... Annoying. Some other fellow's bag.... No more luggage + being brought out. Getting anxious—at least, just a shade + uneasy. Perhaps if I asked somebody—Accost a Belgian + porter; he wants my baggage ticket. They never gave me any + ticket. It <i>did</i> occur to me (in the train) that I had + always had my luggage registered on going abroad before, but I + supposed <i>they</i> knew best, and didn't worry. I came away + to get a rest and avoid worry, and I <i>won't</i> worry.... The + Porter and I have gone on board to hunt for the things. They + aren't <i>there</i>. Left behind at Dover probably. Wire for + them at once. No idea how difficult it was to describe luggage + vividly and yet economically till I tried. However, it will be + sent on by the next boat, and arrive some time in the evening, + so it's of no consequence. Now for the Hotel. Ask for the bus + for the <i>Continental</i>. The <i>Continental</i> is not open + yet. Very well, the <i>Hôtel de la Plage</i>, then. Closed! All + the hotels facing the sea <i>are</i>, it seems. Sympathetic + Porter recommends one in the town, and promises to come and + tell me as soon as the luggage turns up.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:38%;"> + <a href="images/265.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/265.png" + alt="'Please, de tings!'" /></a>"Please, de tings!" + </div> + + <p><i>At the Hotel.</i>—Find, on getting out of the + omnibus, that the Hotel is being painted; entrance blocked by + ladders and pails. Squeeze past, and am received in the hall by + the Proprietress and a German Waiter. "Certainly they can give + me a room—my baggage shall be taken up immed—" Here + I have to explain that this is impracticable, as my baggage has + unfortunately been left behind. Think I see a change in their + manner at this. A stranger who comes abroad with nothing but a + stick and an umbrella cannot <i>expect</i> to inspire + confidence, I suppose. I remark to the Waiter that the luggage + is sure to follow me by the next boat, but it strikes even + myself that I do not bring this out with quite a sincere ring. + Not at all the manner of a man who possesses a real + portmanteau. I order dinner—the kind of dinner, I feel, + that a man who did not intend to pay for it <i>would</i> order. + I detect this impression in the Waiter's eye. If he dared, I + know he would suggest tea and a boiled egg as more seemly under + the circumstances.</p> + + <p><i>On the Digue.</i>—Thought, it being holiday time, + that there would be more gaiety; but Ostend just now perhaps a + little lacking in liveliness—hotels, villas, and even the + Kursaal all closely boarded up with lead-coloured shutters. + Only other person on Promenade a fisher-boy scrooping over the + tiles in <i>sabots</i>. I come to a glazed shelter, and find + the seats choked with drifting sand, and protected with barbed + wire. This depresses me. I did not want to sit down—but + the barbed wire <i>does</i> seem needlessly unkind. Walk along + the sand-dunes; must pass the time somehow till dinner, and the + arrival of my luggage. Wonder whether it really <i>was</i> + labelled "Ostend." Suppose the porter thought I said + "Rochester" ... in that case—I will <i>not</i> worry + about it like this. I will go back and see the town.</p> + + <p>I have; it is like a good many other foreign towns. I am + melancholy. I <i>can't</i> dismiss that miserable luggage from + my mind. To be alone in a foreign land, without so much as a + clean sock, is a distressing position for a sensitive person. + If I could only succeed in seeing a humorous element in it, it + would be <i>something</i>—but I can't. It is too forlorn + to be at all funny. And there is still an hour and a half to + get through before dinner!</p> + + <p>I have dined—in a small room, with a stove, a carved + buffet, and a portrait of the King of the BELGIANS; but my + spirits are still low. German Waiter dubious about me; + reserving his opinion for the present. He comes in with a touch + of new deference in his manner. "Please, a man from de shdation + for you." I go out—to find the sympathetic Porter. My + baggage has arrived? It has; it is at the Douane, waiting for + me. I am saved! I tell the Waiter, without elation, but with + what, I trust, is a calm dignity—the dignity of a man who + has been misunderstood, but would scorn to resent it.</p> + + <p><i>At the Station.</i>—I have accompanied the Porter + to the Terminus, such a pleasant helpful fellow, so + intelligent! The Ostend streets much less dull at night. Feel + relieved, in charity with all the world, now that my prodigal + portmanteau is safely reclaimed. Porter takes me into a large + luggage-room. Don't see my things just at first. "Your + baggage—<i>ere!</i>" says the Porter, proudly, and points + out a little drab valise with shiny black leather covers and + brass studs—the kind of thing a man goes a journey with + in a French Melodrama! He is quite hurt when I repudiate it + indignantly; he tries to convince me that it is mine—the + fool! There is no other baggage of any sort, and mine can't + possibly arrive now before to-morrow afternoon, if then. + Nothing for it but to go back, luggageless, to the + Hotel—and face that confounded Waiter.</p> + + <p>Walk about the streets. Somehow I don't feel quite up to + going back to the Hotel just yet. The shops, which are small + and rather dimly lighted, depress me. There is no theatre, nor + <i>café chantant</i> open apparently. If there were, I haven't + the heart for them to-night. Hear music from a small + <i>estaminet</i> in a back street; female voice, with fine + Cockney accent, is singing "<i>Oh, dem Golden Slippers!</i>" + Wonder where <i>my</i> slippers are!</p> + + <p><i>In my Bedroom.</i>—I have had to come back at last, + and get it over with the Waiter. If he felt <i>any</i> + surprise, I think it was to see me back at all. I have had to + ask him if he could get me some sleeping-things to pass the + night in. <i>And</i> a piece of soap. Humiliating, but + unavoidable. He promised, but he has not brought them. Probably + this last request has done for me, and he is now communicating + with the police....</p> + + <p>A tap at my door. "Please, de tings!" says the Waiter. I + have wronged him. He has brought me <i>such</i> a nightgown! + Never saw anything in the least like it before. It has flowers + embroidered all down the front and round the cuffs, and on + every button something is worked in tiny blue letters, which, + on inspection, turns out to be "Good-night." I don't quite know + why, but, in my present state, I find this strangely consoling, + and even touching—like a benediction. After all, he + <i>must</i> believe in me, or he would hardly confide his + purple and fine linen to me like this. Go to bed gorgeous, and + dream that my portmanteau, bag, and self-respect are all + restored to me by the afternoon boat.... There must be + something in dreams, for, oddly enough, this is exactly what + <i>does</i> happen.</p> + + <p>Next morning, at breakfast, I am handed a mysterious and, at + first sight, rather alarming telegram from the Station-master + at Dover. "Your bones will be sent on next boat." Suspect the + word in the original was "<i>boxes</i>." But they may call them + what they like, so long as I get them back again.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>"<i>The Campaign against the Jebus. Gallant Advance of the + British.</i>" Dear old Mrs. RAM wants to know "who is + commanding the British forces in the campaign against the + Jebus" (which she spells "Gibus")? <i>Mr. Punch</i> is glad to + inform his estimable correspondent that the principal officers + commanding in the Gibus Campaign are Generals WIDE-AWAKE, + BILLICOCK, JIMCROW, POTT, and BELTOPPER. Their strategical + movements are worthy of the First Nap.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>CONSIDERATE.—Arrangements are to be made for all + Standing Committees in future to sit at certain hours. "For + this relief, much thanks," as WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, M.P., + observed.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page266" + id="page266"></a>[pg 266]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/266.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/266.png" + alt="RECIPROCAL." /></a> + + <h3>RECIPROCAL.</h3> + + <p><i>Sporting Gentleman.</i> "WELL, SIR, I'M VERY PLEASED + TO HAVE MADE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE, AND HAD THE OPPORTUNITY OF + HEARING A CHURCHMAN'S VIEWS ON THE QUESTION OF TITHES. OF + COURSE, AS A COUNTRY LANDOWNER, I'M INTERESTED IN CHURCH + MATTERS, AND—"</p> + + <p><i>The Parson.</i> "QUITE SO—DELIGHTED, I'M SURE. + ER—BY THE BYE, COULD YOU TELL ME <i>WHAT'S WON + TO-DAY</i>?"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE BURIAL OF THE "BROAD-GAUGE."</h2> + + <h4>MAY 23, 1892.</h4> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>["Drivers of Broad-Gauge Engines wandering + disconsolately about with their engine-lamps in their + hands; followed by their firemen with pick and shovel over + their shoulder, waiting in anxious expectation of the time + when that new-fangled machine, a narrow-gauge engine, + should come down a day or two after."—<i>Times' + Special at Plymouth on Death of Broad Gauge.</i>]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Not a whistle was heard, not a brass bell-note,</p> + + <p class="i2">As his corse o'er the sleepers we + hurried;</p> + + <p>Not a fog-signal wailed from a husky throat</p> + + <p class="i2">O'er the grave where our "Broad-Gauge" we + buried.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>We buried him darkly, at dead of night,</p> + + <p class="i2">The sod with our pickaxes turning,</p> + + <p>By the danger-signal's ruddy light,</p> + + <p class="i2">And our oil-lamps dimly burning.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>No useless tears, though we loved him well!</p> + + <p class="i2">Long years to his fire-box had bound + us.</p> + + <p>We fancied we glimpsed the great shade of + BRUNEL,</p> + + <p class="i2">In sad sympathy hovering round us.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Few and gruff were the words we said,</p> + + <p class="i2">But we thought, with a natural + sorrow,</p> + + <p>Of the Narrow-Gauge foe of the Loco. just dead,</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>We</i> should have to attend on the + morrow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>We thought, as we hollowed his big broad bed,</p> + + <p class="i2">And piled the brown earth o'er his + funnel,</p> + + <p>How his foe o'er the Great-Western metals would + tread,</p> + + <p class="i2">Shrieking triumph through cutting and + tunnel.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Lightly they'll talk of him now he is gone,</p> + + <p class="i2">For the cheap "Narrow Gauge" has + outstayed him,</p> + + <p>Yet BULL <i>might</i> have found, had he let it go + on,</p> + + <p class="i2">That BRUNEL's Big Idea would have paid + him!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But the battle is ended, our task is done;</p> + + <p class="i2">After forty years' fight he's + retiring.<a id="footnotetag1" + name="footnotetag1"></a><a href="#footnote1"><sup>1</sup></a></p> + + <p>This hour sees thy triumph, O STEPHENSON;</p> + + <p class="i2">Old "Broad Gauge" no more will need + firing.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The "Dutchman" must now be "divided in + two"!—</p> + + <p class="i2">Well, well, they shan't mangle or mess + <i>you</i>!</p> + + <p>Accept the last words of friends faithful, if + few:—</p> + + <p class="i2">"Good-bye, poor old Broad-Gauge, God + bless you!"<a id="footnotetag2" + name="footnotetag2"></a><a href="#footnote2"><sup>2</sup></a></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Slowly and sadly we laid him down.</p> + + <p class="i2">He has filled a great chapter in + story.</p> + + <p>We sang not a dirge—we raised not a stone,</p> + + <p class="i2">But we left the "Broad Gauge" to his + glory!</p> + </div> + </div> + + <blockquote class="footnote"> + <a id="footnote1" + name="footnote1"></a><b>Footnote 1:</b> + <a href="#footnotetag1">(return)</a> + + <p>The Royal Commission appointed to inquire into the + uniformity of railway gauges, presented their report to + Parliament on May 30, 1846.</p> + </blockquote> + + <blockquote class="footnote"> + <a id="footnote2" + name="footnote2"></a><b>Footnote 2:</b> + <a href="#footnotetag2">(return)</a> + + <p>Words found written on one of the G.-W. rails.</p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <h4>TO A DEAR YOUNG FEMININE FRIEND, WHO SPELT "WAGON" AS + "WAGGON."</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Bad spelling? Oh dear no! So tender, she</p> + + <p>Wished that the cart should have an extra + "<i>gee</i>."</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>KILLING NO MURDER.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>To the Editor of "Punch."</i>)</h4> + + <p>MY DEAR SIR,—I have just been reading with a great + deal of surprise "<i>The Life and Letters of Charles Samuel + Keene</i>, by GEORGE SOMES LAYARD." Seeing the name of one of + your colleagues as the first line of the "Index," I turned to + page 74 and looked him out. I found him mentioned in an account + given by Mr. M.H. SPIELMANN of the <i>Punch</i> Dinner, which + Mr. GEORGE SOMES LAYARD had extracted from <i>Black and + White</i>, no doubt to assist in making up his book. The + following is the quotation:—"The Editor, as I have said, + presides; should he be unavoidably absent, another + writer—usually, nowadays, Mr. ARTHUR + A'BECKETT—takes his place, the duty never falling to an + artist." Then, to show how thoroughly Mr. GEORGE SOMES LAYARD + is up to date, he adds to the name of Mr. ARTHUR A'BECKETT + (after the fashion of <i>Mr. Punch</i> in the drama disposing + of the clown or the beadle), "since dead." Now Mr. ARTHUR + A'BECKETT is not dead, but very much alive. Do you not think, + Sir, it would be better were gentlemen who write about yourself + and your colleagues, to verify their facts before they attempt + to give obituary notices, even if they be as brief as the one + in question?</p> + + <p class="author">Yours, truly,<br /> + MORE GAY THAN GRAVE.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>NEW AND APPROPRIATE NAME FOR MODERN PUGILISM.—The + "Nobble" Art.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page267" + id="page267"></a>[pg 267]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/267.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/267.png" + alt="THE BURIAL OF THE 'BROAD-GAUGE.'" /></a> + + <h3>THE BURIAL OF THE "BROAD-GAUGE."</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page268" + id="page268"></a>[pg 268]</span> + + <h2>STUDIES IN THE NEW POETRY.</h2> + + <p>The world is of course aware by this time that a New Poetry + has arisen, and has asserted itself by the mouths of many + loud-voiced "boomers." It has been <i>Mr. Punch's</i> good + fortune to secure several specimens of this new product, not + through the intervention of middle men, but from the + manufacturers themselves. He proposes to publish them for the + benefit and enlightenment of his readers. But first a word of + warning. There are perhaps some who believe that a poem should + not only express high and noble thoughts, or recount great + deeds, but that it should do so in verse that is musical, + cadenced, rhythmical, instinct with grace, and reserved rather + than boisterous. If any such there be, let them know at once + that they are hopelessly old-fashioned. The New Poetry in its + <i>highest</i> expression banishes form, regularity and rhythm, + and treats rhyme with unexampled barbarity. Here and there, it + is true, rhymes get paired off quite happily in the + conventional manner, but directly afterwards you may come upon + a poor weak little rhyme who will cry in vain for his mate + through half a dozen interloping lines. Indeed, cases have been + known of rhymes that have been left on a sort of desert island + of a verse, and have never been fetched away. And sometimes + when the lines have got chopped very short, the rhymes have + tumbled overboard altogether. That is really what is meant by + "impressionism" in poetry carried to its highest excellence. + There are, of course, other forms of the New Poetry. There is + the "blustering, hob-nailed" variety which clatters up and down + with immense noise, elbows you here, and kicks you there, and + if it finds a pardonable weakness strolling about in the middle + of the street, immediately knocks it down and tramples upon it. + Then too there is the "coarse, but manly" kind which swears by + the great god, Jingo, and keeps a large stock of spread eagles + always ready to swoop and tear without the least + provocation.</p> + + <p>However, <i>Mr. Punch</i> may as well let his specimens + speak for themselves. Here, then, is</p> + + <h3>No. I.—A GRAVESEND GREGORIAN.</h3> + + <h4>BY W.E. H-NL-Y. (<i>Con Brio.</i>)</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Deep in a murky hole,</p> + + <p>Cavernous, untransparent, fetid, dank,</p> + + <p>The demiurgus of the servants' hall,</p> + + <p>The scuttle-bearing buttons, boon and blank</p> + + <p>And grimy loads his evening load of coals,</p> + + <p>Filled with respect for the cook's and butler's + rank,</p> + + <p>Lo, the round cook half fills the hot retreat,</p> + + <p>Her kitchen, where the odours of the meat,</p> + + <p>The cabbage and sweets all merge as in a pall,</p> + + <p>The stale unsavoury remnants of the feast.</p> + + <p>Here, with abounding confluences of onion,</p> + + <p>Whose vastitudes of perfume tear the soul</p> + + <p>In wish of the not unpotatoed stew,</p> + + <p>They float and fade and flutter like morning + dew.</p> + + <p>And all the copper pots and pans in line,</p> + + <p>A burnished army of bright utensils, shine;</p> + + <p>And the stern butler heedless of his bunion</p> + + <p>Looks happy, and the tabby-cat of the house</p> + + <p>Forgets the elusive, but recurrent mouse</p> + + <p>And purrs and dreams;</p> + + <p>And in his corner the black-beetle seems</p> + + <p>A plumed Black Prince arrayed in gleaming mail;</p> + + <p>Whereat the shrinking scullery-maid grows pale,</p> + + <p>And flies for succour to THOMAS of the calves,</p> + + <p>Who, doing nought by halves,</p> + + <p>Circles a gallant arm about her waist,</p> + + <p>And takes unflinching the cheek-slap of the + chaste</p> + + <p>And giggling fair, nor counts his labour lost.</p> + + <p>Then, beer, beer, beer.</p> + + <p>Spume-headed, bitter, golden like the gold</p> + + <p>Buried by cutlassed pirates tempest-tossed,</p> + + <p>Red-capped, immitigable, over-bold</p> + + <p>With blood and rapine, spreaders of fire and + fear.</p> + + <p>The kitchen table</p> + + <p>Is figured with the ancient, circular stains</p> + + <p>Of the pint-pot's bottom; beer is all the go.</p> + + <p>And every soul in the servants' hall is able</p> + + <p>To drink his pint or hers until they grow</p> + + <p>Glorious with golden beer, and count as gains</p> + + <p>The glowing draughts that presage morning pains.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:65%;"> + <a href="images/268.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/268.png" + alt="QUITE UNANSWERABLE." /></a> + + <h3>QUITE UNANSWERABLE.</h3><i>Ethel.</i> "MAMMY DEAR! WHY + DO YOU POWDER YOUR FACE, AND WHY DOES THOMAS POWDER HIS + HAIR? I DON'T DO EITHER!" + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>EPISCOPACY IN DANGER.—<i>Mr. Punch</i> congratulates + Dr. PEROWNE, Bishop of Worcester, on his narrow fire-escape + some days ago, when his lawn sleeves (a costume more + appropriate for a garden-party than a pulpit) caught fire. It + was extinguished by a bold Churchwarden. In future let + Churchwardens be prepared with hose whenever a prelate runs any + chance of ignition from his own "burning eloquence." If <i>Mr. + Punch's</i> advice as above is acted upon, a Bishop if "put + out" may probably mutter, "Darn your hose." But this can be + easily explained away.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>BETTER AND BETTER.—The Report last week about Sir + ARTHUR SULLIVAN was that "he hopes to go to the country + shortly." So do our political parties. Sir ARTHUR cannot + restrain himself from writing new and original music at a rapid + pace. This, is a consequence of his having taken so many + composing draughts.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>"OUR BOOKING OFFICE."—Not open this week, as the Baron + has been making a book. Interesting subject, "On the Derby and + Oaks." Being in sporting mood, the Baron adopts as his motto + King SOLOMON's words of wisdom, out of his (King SOLOMON's) own + mines of golden treasures,—"And of book-making there is + no end." He substitutes "book-making" for "making of books," + and with the poetic CAMPBELL (HERBERT of that ilk) he sings, + "it makes no difference."</p> + <hr /> + + <p>AFTER THE EVENT.—Last Sunday week was the one day in + the year when ancient Joe Millers were permissible. It was + "Chestnut Sunday." We didn't like to mention it before.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>The Royal General Theatrical Fund Dinner, held last + Thursday, will be remembered in the annals of the Stage as + "ALEXANDER's Feast."</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page269" + id="page269"></a>[pg 269]</span> + + <h2>HORACE IN LONDON. TO A COQUETTE. (AD PYRRHAM.)</h2> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/269-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/269-1.png" + alt="A coquette." /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>What stripling, flowered and scent-bedewed,</p> + + <p>Now courts thee in what solitude?</p> + + <p>For whom dost thou in order set</p> + + <p>Thy tresses' aureole, Coquette.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Neat, but not gaudy"?—Soon Despond</p> + + <p>(Too soon!) at flouted faith and fond,</p> + + <p>Soon tempests halcyon tides above</p> + + <p>Shall wreck this raw recruit of Love;</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Who counts for gold each tinsel whim,</p> + + <p>And hopes thee always all for him,</p> + + <p>And trusts thee, smiling, spite of doom</p> + + <p>And traitorous breezes! Hapless, whom</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Thy glamour holds untried. For me,</p> + + <p>I've dared enough that fitful sea;</p> + + <p>Its "breach of promise" grim hath curst</p> + + <p>Both purse and person with its worst.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>My "dripping weeds" are doffed; and I</p> + + <p>Sit "landed," like my wine, and "dry;"</p> + + <p>What "weeds" survive I smoke, and rub</p> + + <p>My hands in harbour at my Club!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>OPERATIC NOTES.</h2> + + <p><i>Monday.</i>—<i>L'Amico Fritz</i> at last! Better + late than never. A Dramatic Operatic Idyl. "Nothing in it," as + <i>Sir Charles Coldstream</i> observes, except the music, the + singing, and the acting of Signor DE LUCIA as <i>Fritz</i> Our + Friend, of M. DUFRICHE as the <i>Rabbi</i> of Mlle. GIULIA + RAVOGLI as <i>Boy Beppe</i>, of Mlle. BAUERMEISTER as + <i>Caterina</i>, and of Madame CALVÉ as <i>Suzel</i>. Not an + indifferent performer or singer among them, and not an + individual in the audience indifferent to their performance. + Cherry-Tree Duet, between <i>Suzel</i> and <i>Fritz</i>, great + hit. Admirably sung and acted, and vociferously encored. Nay, + they would have had it three times if they could, but though + Sir DRURIOLANUS sets his face against encores, allowing not too + much encore but just encore enough, he, as an astute Manager, + cannot see why persons who have paid to hear a thing only once + should hear it three times for the same money. No; if they like + it so much that they want it again, and must have it, and won't + be happy till they get it, then let them encore their own + performance of paying for their seats, and come and hear their + favourite <i>morçeaux</i> over and over again as often as they + like to pay. He will grant one encore no more. Sir DRURIOLANUS + is right. Do we insist on Mr. IRVING giving us "To be or not to + be," or any other soliloquy, all over again, simply because he + has done it once so well? Do we ask Mr. J.L. TOOLE to repeat + his author's good jokes—or his own when his author has + failed him? No; we applaud to the echo, we laugh till, as Mr. + CHEVALIER says, "we thort we should ha' died," but we don't + encore the comic jokes, telling situations, or serious + soliloquies as rendered by our accomplished histrions.</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/269-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/269-2.png" + alt="The Rabbinical-Hat-Beer-Jug." /></a>The + Rabbinical-Hat-Beer-Jug. + </div> + + <p>Were a collection of pictures made of Mlle. BAUERMEISTER in + different characters, it would, for interest and variety, + become a formidable rival of the CHARLES MATHEWS series now in + the possession of the Garrick Club. To-night she is the busy, + bustling <i>Caterina</i>, <i>Friend Fritz's</i> housekeeper, + who, as she has to provide all the food for their breakfast, + and set it on the table, might be distinguished as <i>Catering + Caterina</i>. No one now cares to see an Opera without Mlle. + BAUERMEISTER in it, whether she appear as a dashing lady of the + Court, probably in a riding-habit, or as a middle-class German + housekeeper, or as Cupid God of Love, or as <i>Juliet's</i> + ancient nurse, or as an impudent waiting-maid, or as an unhappy + mother, or as,—well,—any number of characters that + I cannot now recall, but all done excellently well. Never have + I heard of her being either "sick or sorry." Some few seasons + ago I drew public attention to this most useful and ornamental + <i>artiste</i>, and now I am glad to see that here and there a + critic has awoke to the fact of her existence, and has done her + tardy justice. Long may the Bauermeistersinger be able to give + her valuable assistance, without which no Covent Garden Opera + Company could possibly be perfect.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:45%;"> + <a href="images/269-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/269-3.png" + alt="Bob-Cherry Duet." /></a>Bob-Cherry Duet. + </div> + + <p>As to <i>L'Amico Fritz</i>, I should suggest that it be + played in one Scene and two Acts. That this one Scene should be + the Exterior of Cherry-Tree Farm (which should be + <i>Fritz's</i>, not the <i>Rabbi's</i>) and that instead of + lowering the Curtain, the <i>intermezzo</i>—not I venture + to opine equal to the marvellous <i>intermezzo</i> in + <i>Cavalleria Rusticana</i>—should be played. + <i>L'Amico</i> is certain of an encore, and this will give the + singers a rest. It could then commence at nine—a more + convenient hour to those who would like to hear every note of + it, than 8:15, and it would be over by eleven sharp. A nod is + as good as a wink to Sir DRURIOLANUS, but all the same, Heaven + forefend I should be guilty of either indiscretion in the + Imperial Operatorial presence. Thus much at present.</p> + + <p><i>Friday.</i>—"It's the smiles of its AUGUSTUS and + the heat of its July"—adapted quotation from "Old Song." + "I cannot sing the old song"—except under a sense of the + deepest and most unpardonable provocation; and when I + do!!—<i>Cave canem, ruat coelum!</i> I bring down the + house as Madame DELILAH's SAMSON did. To-night <i>Manon</i> is + indeed warmly welcomed. "A nice Opera," says a young lady, + fanning herself. "I wish it were an iced Opera," groans + WAGSTAFF, re-issuing one of his earliest side-splitters. M. VAN + DYCK strong as the weak <i>Des Grieux</i>, but Madame MRAVINA + apparently not strong enough. "What made author-chap think of + calling her <i>Manon</i>?" asks languid person in Stalls. + WAGSTAFF, revived after an iced B.-and-S., is equal to the + occasion. "Such a bad lot, you know—regular man-catcher; + hooked a <i>man on</i>, then, when he was done with, hooked + another man on. Reason for name evident, see?" The + <i>Cavalleria Rusticana</i> is the favourite for Derby Night. + All right up to now, Sir DRURIOLANUS.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>TENNER SONG FOR DERBY DAY.—"<i>He's got it + on!</i>"</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page270" + id="page270"></a>[pg 270]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/270.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/270.png" + alt="WHAT OUR ARTIST (THE SMALL AND SUSCEPTIBLE ONE) HAS TO PUT UP WITH." /> + </a> + + <h3>WHAT OUR ARTIST (THE SMALL AND SUSCEPTIBLE ONE) HAS TO + PUT UP WITH.</h3> + + <p><i>Miss Binks.</i> "PRAY, MR. TITMOUSE, WHY DO YOU + ALWAYS DRAW SUCH IMMENSELY TALL WOMEN?"</p> + + <p><i>Our Artist.</i> "WELL, MISS BINKS, I SUPPOSE IT'S + BECAUSE I'M SUCH A TINY LITTLE MAN MYSELF. CONTRAST, YOU + SEE!"</p> + + <p><i>Miss Binks.</i> "AH, YES, CONTRAST! THAT IS HOW WE + TINY LITTLE WOMEN ALWAYS ATTRACT ALL THE FINE TALL MEN! + THAT'S HOW <i>WE</i> SCORE!"</p> + + <p><i>Our Artist.</i> "EXACTLY. I ONLY WISH TO GOODNESS + YOU'D ATTRACT THAT VERY FINE TALL MAN AWAY FROM MISS + JONES—THEN <i>I</i> MIGHT HAVE A CHANCE, + PERHAPS!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>A VERY "DARK HORSE."</h2> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>["The Country knows ... what it is we desire to do. What + the Right Hon. Gentleman (Mr. GLADSTONE) desires to do no + human being knows. If we have done our part, as we have + done, to clear the issues, all we can ask him is to do his + part, to lay before the electorate of this country in the + same plain, unmistakable outline, the policy which he + desires to see adopted."—<i>Mr. Balfour on Second + Reading of Irish Local Government Bill.</i>]</p> + </blockquote> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE—<i>The Paddock, before the Great Race. + Rising Young Jockey</i>, ARTHUR BALFOUR, <i>mounted on the + Crack Irish Horse. Enter Grand Old Jockey, at the moment + minus a mount.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Grand Old Jockey</i> (<i>aside</i>). Humph! Don't + look so bad, now, despite the dead set</p> + + <p class="i4">That against him we've made since his very + first running,</p> + + <p class="i2">Do they mean him to win after all? Artful + set,</p> + + <p class="i4">That Stable! It strikes me they've been + playing cunning.</p> + + <p class="i2">One wouldn't have backed him, first off, for + a bob.</p> + + <p class="i4">His owner concerning him scarcely seemed + caring.</p> + + <p class="i2">Eugh! No one supposed he was fair "on the + job";</p> + + <p class="i4">A mere trial-horse, simply "out for an + airing."</p> + + <p class="i2">When he first stripped in public he looked + such a screw,</p> + + <p class="i4">He was hailed with a general chorus of + laughter;</p> + + <p class="i2">Young BAL seemed abashed at the general + yahboo!</p> + + <p class="i4">And pooh-poohed his new mount! What the doose + is he after?</p> + + <p class="i2">I'm bound to admit the Horse <i>looks</i> + pretty fit,</p> + + <p class="i4">And the boy sits him well, and as though he + meant <i>trying</i>.</p> + + <p class="i2">I say, this won't do! I must bounce him a + bit.</p> + + <p class="i4">Most awkward, you know, if his "slug" takes + to <i>flying</i>!</p> + + <p><i>Rising Young Jockey</i> (<i>aside</i>). Hillo! + There's Old WILLIAM! He's out on the scoot.</p> + + <p class="i4">The artful Old Hand! Hope he'll like what he + looks on!</p> + + <p class="i2">He slated this nag as a peacocky brute,</p> + + <p class="i4">Whose utter collapse they've been building + their books on.</p> + + <p class="i2">How now, my spry veteran? Only a boy</p> + + <p class="i4">On a three-legged crock? Well, I own you are + older,</p> + + <p class="i2">And watching your riding's a thing to + enjoy;</p> + + <p class="i4">There isn't a Jock who is defter <i>and</i> + bolder;</p> + + <p class="i2">Your power, authority, + eloquence—yes,</p> + + <p class="i4">For your gift of the gab is a + caution—are splendid;</p> + + <p class="i2">But—the youngster <i>may</i> teach you + a lesson, I guess,</p> + + <p class="i4">As to judgment of pace ere the contest is + ended.</p> + + <p><i>Grand Old Jockey</i> (<i>aloud</i>). Well, ARTHUR my + lad, in the saddle again!</p> + + <p class="i4">Is <i>that</i> your crack mount?</p> + + <p><i>Rising Young Jockey.</i> The identical one, WILL.</p> + + <p><i>Grand Old Jockey.</i> Dear, dear, what a pity! It + quite gives me pain</p> + + <p class="i4">To see you so wasted.</p> + + <p><i>Rising Young Jockey.</i> That's only your fun, + WILL.</p> + + <p><i>Grand Old Jockey.</i> Nay, nay, not at all! Don't + think much of his points.</p> + + <p class="i4">He's not bred like a true-blood, nor built + like a winner.</p> + + <p class="i2">Not well put together, so coarse in his + joints,</p> + + <p class="i4">In fact—only fit for a hunting-pack's + dinner!</p> + + <p><i>Rising Young Jockey</i> (<i>laughing</i>). Oh! + "Cat's-meat!" is your cry, is it, WILLIAM? Well, well!</p> + + <p class="i4">We shall see about that when the + winning-post's handy.</p> + + <p><i>Grand Old Jockey.</i> <i>You</i> won't, my brave boy; + that a novice could tell.</p> + + <p class="i4">You'll be left in the ruck at the end, my + young dandy,</p> + + <p><i>Rising Young Jockey.</i> Perhaps! Still the + pencillers haven't,—as yet—</p> + + <p class="i4">Quite knocked the nag out with their furious + fever</p> + + <p class="i2">Of hot opposition. Some cool ones still + bet</p> + + <p class="i4">On his chance of a win.</p> + + <p><i>Grand Old Jockey</i> (<i>contemptuously</i>). Ah, + you're wonderful clever.</p> + + <p class="i2">But we have got one in <i>our</i> Stable, my + lad,</p> + + <p class="i4">Who can—just lick his head off!</p> + + <p><i>Rising Young Jockey</i> (<i>drily</i>). Now have you + indeed, WILL?</p> + + <p class="i2">I fancy I've heard that before. Very glad</p> + + <p class="i4">That your lot are in luck; and I hope you'll + succeed, WILL,</p> + + <p class="i2">But bless me! yours seems such a <i>very</i> + Dark Horse!</p> + + <p class="i4">Oh! there, don't fire up so! Your word I + won't doubt, WILL.</p> + + <p class="i2">You say so, and one must believe you, of + course;</p> + + <p class="i4">But—<i>isn't</i> it time that you + <i>brought the nag out</i>, WILL?</p> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page271" + id="page271"></a>[pg 271]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/271.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/271.png" + alt="A VERY 'DARK HORSE.'" /></a> + + <h3>A VERY "DARK HORSE."</h3> + + <p>OLD JOCKEY. "DON'T THINK MUCH OF HIS POINTS! WE'VE ONE + IN OUR STABLE CAN LICK HIS HEAD OFF!"</p> + + <p>YOUNG JOCKEY. "<i>HAVE</i> YOU? THEN WHY DON'T YOU + <i>BRING HIM OUT</i>?"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page273" + id="page273"></a>[pg 273]</span> + + <h2>HISTORY AS SHE IS PLAYED!</h2> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Questioner.</i> Why should M.V. SARDOU be called the + Historian of the French Revolution?</p> + + <p><i>Answerer.</i> Because in <i>Thermidor</i> he has + given an entirely new version of the "Reign of Terror."</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> Was the "Reign of Terror" very terrible?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> Not very. At the Opéra Comique it had its + comic side.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> How was that?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> For instance, <i>les tricoteuses</i> were + represented by comely, albeit plump maidens, who seemed + more inclined to dance round a Maypole than haunt a + scaffold.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> Were ROBESPIERRE, ST. JUST, and the rest, + cruel and vindictive?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> I should say not; and I found my conclusion on + the fact that they engaged an actor given to practical + joking as an officer of the Public Security.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> From this, do you take it that ROBESPIERRE + must have had a subtle sense of humour?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> I do; and the impression is strengthened by + his order for a general slaughter of Ursuline Nuns.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> Why should he order such a massacre?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> To catch the heroine of <i>Thermidor</i>, a + lady who had taken the vows under the impression that her + lover had been killed by the enemy.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> Had her lover been killed?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> Certainly not; he had preferred to + surrender.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> Can you give me any idea of the component part + of a revolutionary crowd?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> At the Opéra Comique, a revolutionary crowd + seems to consist of a number of mournful loungers, who have + nothing to do save to take a languid interest in the fate + of a tearful maiden, and a few <i>gens d'armes</i> a little + uncertain about their parade-ground.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> How do the mournful loungers express their + interest in the fate of the tearful maiden?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> By pointing her out one to another, and when + she is ordered off to execution removing their hats, and + fixing I their attention on something concealed behind the + scenes.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> What is your present idea of the Reign of + Terror?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> My present idea of the Reign of Terror is, + that it was the mildest thing imaginable. In my opinion, + not even a child in arms would have been frightened at + it.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> Do you not consider M. MAYER deserving of + honour?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> Certainly I do. For has he not removed (with + the assistance of M. SARDOU and the Opéra Comique) several + fond illusions of my youth?</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/273-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/273-1.png" + alt="NATURE V. ART." /></a> + + <h3>NATURE V. ART.</h3> + + <p><i>Æsthetic Friend.</i> "YES, THIS ROOM'S RATHER NICE, + ALL BUT THE WINDOW, WITH THESE LARGE BLANK PANES OF + PLATE-GLASS! I SHOULD LIKE TO SEE SOME SORT OF PATTERN ON + THEM—LITTLE SQUARES OR LOZENGES OR + ARABESQUES—"</p> + + <p><i>Philistine.</i> "WELL, BUT THOSE LOVELY CHERRY + BLOSSOMS, AND THE LAKE, AND THE DISTANT MOUNTAIN, AND THE + BEAUTIFUL SUNSETS, AND THE PURPLE CLOUDS—ISN'T THAT + PATTERN ENOUGH?"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>THE MORNING OF THE DERBY.—<i>Hamlet</i> considering + whether he shall go to Epsom for the great race or not, + soliloquises, "Der-<i>be</i> or not Der-<i>be</i>, that is the + question." [N.B.—As to the other lines, go as you please. + "The rest is silence."]</p> + <hr /> + + <p>"MARRIED AND SINGLE" should be played by Lady-Cricketers. No + single young person under seventeen should be permitted an + innings, as any two sweet sixteens would be "not out," and + there would be no chance for the other side. Match-makers are + only interested in the Single.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS.</h2> + + <p>DEAR MR. PUNCH,—For the first time have I seen myself + in print!—and I must say I think it very + becoming—and so nice and cool too this hot weather! You + are indeed a sweet creature for adopting my idea so + readily—and I really must say that if these obstinate + Members of Parliament who oppose Women's Suffrage would only + alter their views, it would be much better for the + Country—or worse—I don't know which!</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/273-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/273-2.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>Sir MINTING BLOUNDELL, whose criticism on my contribution to + your well-written journal I invited, complimented me on my + style, and suggested that when giving my selections it might be + as well to refer to the "Home Trials" of the horses + mentioned—but I venture to disagree with him! Goodness + knows we all have home trials enough! (Lord ARTHUR and I + frequently do not speak for a week unless someone is + present)—but I do not think these things should be made + public, and besides, it is an unwritten law amongst "smart" + people to avoid subjects that "chafe"—which sounds like + an anachronism—whatever that means! Having an opportunity + of a "last word" on the Derby, I should like to say that, + although my confidence in my last week's selection, <i>La + Flêche</i>, is unshaken, I wish to have a second "arrow" to my + bow in <i>Llanthony</i>—of whom a very keen judge of + racing (Lord BOURNEMOUTH to wit) has formed the opinion + that—in his own words—"he will be on the premises"! + The premises in question being Epsom Downs, there will + undoubtedly be room for him without his filling an + unnecessarily prominent position, so I will couple + <i>Llanthony</i> with <i>La Flêche</i> to supply the probable + last in the Derby.</p> + + <p>Meanwhile, I must say a word or two about the Ladies' Race + at Epsom on Friday next. There is absolutely no knowing what + will start for the Oaks nowadays until the numbers go + up—and no Turf Prophet will venture a selection until the + morning of the race—and <i>this</i> is where the + perspicuity of an Editor like yourself, <i>Mr. Punch</i>, + scores a distinct hit—for such a paltry consideration as + "knowing nothing about it" is not likely to daunt a woman who + takes as her motto the well-known line from SHAKSPEARE: "Thus + Angels rush where Cowards fear to tread!"—so herewith I + confidently append my verse selection for the last Mare in the + Oaks!</p> + + <p class="author">Yours devotedly,<br /> + LADY GAY.</p> + + <h4>THE TIP.</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>'Tis the voice of the Sluggard, I hear him + complain,</p> + + <p class="i2">You have waked me too soon—an + unpleasant surprise!</p> + + <p>In an hour or so later pray call me again,</p> + + <p class="i2">When, if feeling refreshed, I will + straightway "<i>Arise!</i>"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>QUITE IN KEEPING.—The Earl of DYSART has left the + ranks of the Liberal Unionists and become a Gladstonian + Home-Ruler. "What more natural?" asked one of his former + Unionist friends. "Of course he's dysarted us!"</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page274" + id="page274"></a>[pg 274]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/274-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/274-1.png" + alt="A MISUNDERSTANDING." /></a> + + <h3>A MISUNDERSTANDING.</h3> + + <p><i>He.</i> "OH, IF I'D ONLY BEEN A 'BEAR'!"</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> "IF YOU HAD BEEN, YOU COULDN'T GROWL WORSE + THAN YOU DO!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + + <h3>EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</h3> + + <p><i>House of Commons, Monday, May 23.</i>—REDMOND, + Junior, said really funny thing just now. Rising to take part + in resumed Debate on Irish Local Government Bill, he announced + in loud angry tone that it would be waste of time to discuss a + Bill the Government evidently did not intend to press through + this Session, and he for one would be no party to such a farce. + Then he went on to talk for half an hour.</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/274-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/274-2.png" + alt="'Joe!'" /></a>"Joe!" + </div> + + <p>Debate on the whole something better than last week's + contribution. O'BRIEN delivered himself of glowing denunciation + full of felicitous phrases, all got through in half an hour. + CHAMBERLAIN followed; has not yet got over startling novelty of + his interposition in Debate being welcomed by loud cheers from + Conservatives; thinks of old Aston-Park days, when the cheering + was, as WEBSTER (not Attorney-General) says, "on the other + boot." Now, when JOSEPH gets up to demolish his Brethren + sitting near, Conservatives opposite settle themselves down + with the peculiar rustling motion with which a congregation in + crowded church or chapel arrange themselves to listen to a + favourite preacher. Pretty to watch them as CHAMBERLAIN goes + forward with his speech, delighting them with surprise to find + how much better is their position than they thought when it was + recommended or extolled from their own side. JOSEPH not nearly + so acrimonious to-night as sometimes. Still, as usual, his + speech chiefly directed to his former Brethren who sit + attentive, thinking occasionally with regret of the fatal + shallowness of the pit, and the absence of arrangement for + hermetically sealing it. If only—But that is another + story. COURTNEY at end of Bench is thinking of still another, + which has the rare charm of being true. It befel at a quiet + dinner where JOSEPH, finding himself in contiguity with + Chairman of Committees, took opportunity of rebuking him for + his alleged laxity in repressing disorder.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/274-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/274-3.png" + alt="The Fighting Colonel." /></a>The Fighting + Colonel. + </div> + + <p>"I should like to know," he asked, "whether, supposing I + were to fire a pistol across the House, you would call it a + breach of order."</p> + + <p>"I don't think, CHAMBERLAIN," said Prince ARTHUR, who was + sitting at the other side of the table, "that if you were going + to fire a pistol in the Commons, you would point it across the + House." TIM HEALY just back from Dublin, where he's been + appearing in his favourite character of pacificator; followed + CHAMBERLAIN, and later came SAUNDERSON. But even he suffered + from prevailing tone of dulness, and WILFRID LAWSON, fast + asleep in the corner by Cross Benches, did not miss much. + <i>Business done.</i>—More talk on Local Government + Bill.</p> + + <p><i>Tuesday.</i>—If anyone looking on at House of + Commons at three o'clock this afternoon had predicted that + within an hour it would be teeming with life, brimming over + with human interest, he would have been looked upon with cold + suspicion. NOLAN had taken the floor, and was understood to be + expressing his deliberate opinion on merits of Irish Local + Government Bill. He was certainly saying something, but what it + might be no man could tell. LYON PLAYFAIR, who is up in all + kinds of statistics, tells me 120 words per minute is the + average utterance of articulate speech. NOLAN was doing his + 300, and sometimes exceeded that rate. Not a comma in a column + of it. A humming-top on the subject would have been precisely + as instructive and convincing. Some twenty Members sat there + fascinated by the performance. It was not delivered in a + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page275" + id="page275"></a>[pg 275]</span> monotone, in which case one + could have slept. NOLAN was evidently arguing in incisive + manner, shirking no obstacle, avoiding no point in the Bill, + or any hit made by previous speaker. His voice rose and fell + with convincing modulation. He seemed to be always dropping + into an aside, which led him into another, that opened a + sort of Clapham Junction of converging points. One after the + other, the Colonel, with full steam up, ran along; when he + reached terminus of siding, racing back at sixty miles an + hour; and so up and down another. Only guessed this from + modulation of his voice and the intelligent nodding of the + head with which he compelled the attention of + ATTORNEY-GENERAL for IRELAND. For just over half an hour he + kept up this pace, and, saving a trot for the avenue, fell + back into his seat gasping for breath, having concluded a + sentence nine hundred words long worked off in three minutes + by the astonished clock.</p> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/275.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/275.png" + alt="THE GLADSTONIAN BAGMAN." /></a> + + <h3>THE GLADSTONIAN BAGMAN.</h3>["I regard myself as a + commercial traveller."—<i>Speech by Sir William + Harcourt at Bristol, May</i> 11, 1892.] + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page276" + id="page276"></a>[pg 276]</span> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:28%;"> + <a href="images/276-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/276-1.png" + alt="'T.W.'" /></a>"T.W." + </div> + + <p>An interval of T.W. RUSSELL, with one of his + adroitly-argued, lucidly-arranged speeches. Then Mr. G. and + transformation scene. House filled up as if by magic. In ten + minutes not a seat vacant on floor; Members running into Side + Gallery, nimbly hopping over Benches, to get on front line so + as to watch as well as hear the last and the greatest of the + old Parliamentarians. As suddenly and swiftly as the House had + filled, the limp lay figure of the Debate throbbed with life. + Scene of the kind witnessed only once or twice in Session. Six + hundred pair of eyes all turned eagerly upon figure standing at + Table, denouncing with uplifted arm, and voice ringing with + indignation, the iniquities of the MARKISS, safely absent, and + of his nephew, Prince ARTHUR, serenely present.</p> + + <p>A great speech; an achievement which, if it stood alone, + sufficient to make a reputation. And yet, when result of + Division announced, it was found that majority of an iniquitous + Government had run up to 92!</p> + + <p>Everyone delighted to hear the interesting news from 27, St. + James's Place, which gives an heir to the Spencer Earldom, and + has spread a feeling of joy and contentment throughout Althorpe + and Mid-Northamptonshire. The latest news, brought down just + now by MARJORIBANKS, is "BOBBY is doing as well as can be + expected." <i>Business done.</i>—Irish Local Government + Bill read Second Time, by 339 votes against 247.</p> + + <p><i>Wednesday.</i>—Hail! Sir HENRY WIGGIN, Bart, M.P.; + B.B.K., as ARTHUR ORTON called himself when resident in the + wilds of Australia, and explained that the style imported + Baronet of the British Kingdom. <i>Now</i> we know what was the + meaning of that foray upon the House the other day, when, with + the Chairman in the Chair, and Committee fully constituted, the + waggish WIGGIN walked adown the House, with his hat cocked on + one side of his head, in defiance of Parliamentary etiquette. + The Birthday Gazette was even then being drafted, and to-day + the wanton WIGGIN is Sir HENRY, Baronet of the United Kingdom. + <i>Not</i> a more popular announcement in the list. An honest, + kindly, shrewd WIGGIN it is, with a face whose genial smile all + people, warming under it, instinctively return.</p> + + <p><i>Business done.</i>—WIGGIN made B.B.K.</p> + + <p><i>Thursday.</i>—Quite a long time reaching Vote on + Account; two hours taken for discussion of Birmingham Water + Bill; Gentlemen in Radical camp much exercised about size of + fish in streams annexed for purposes of Birmingham water + supply. CHAMBERLAIN, who has charge of Bill, says he never + caught one longer than two inches. DILLWYN protests that + fishing in same waters he rarely caught one less than a pound + weight. Evidently a mistake somewhere. House perplexed, finally + passed Bill through Committee.</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:27%;"> + <a href="images/276-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/276-2.png" + alt="The Noble Baron." /></a>The Noble Baron. + </div> + + <p>Then Rev. SAM SMITH wants to know more about Polynesian + Labour Traffic. The NOBLE BARON who has charge of Colonial + affairs in Commons, whilst controverting all his statements, + says "everyone must admit that the Hon. Member has spoken from + his heart." "Which," NOVAR says, "it reminds me of the couplet + <i>Joe Gargery</i> meant to put on the tombstone of his + lamented father, 'What-sume'er the failings on his part, + Remember, reader, he were that good in his hart.'"</p> + + <p>At length in Committee of Supply; Vote on Account moved; Mr. + G. on his feet wanting to know you know; doesn't once mention + the Dissolution; but puts it to Prince ARTHUR whether, really, + the time hasn't come when House should learn something with + respect to intentions of Government touching finance, their + principal Bills, and, in short, "so far foreshadowing the + probable termination of the Session?" Wouldn't on any account + hurry him; any day he likes will do; only getting time + something should be said. Prince ARTHUR, gratefully + acknowledging Mr. G.'s kind way of putting it, agreed with his + view. Some day he will tell us something; to-day he will say + nothing. A pretty bit of by-play; excellently done by both + leading Gentlemen; perfectly understood by laughing House.</p> + + <p><i>Business done.</i>—Shadow of Dissolution gathering + close.</p> + + <p><i>Friday.</i>—I see TAY PAY, in the interesting + Sunday journal he admirably edits, reproaches me because, in + this particular page of history, "Mr. SEXTON," he says, "is + derided constantly and shamefully." <i>Anglicè</i>: + Occasionally when, in a faithful record of Parliamentary + events, SEXTON's part in the proceedings must needs be noticed, + it is gently hinted that among his many admirable qualities + terseness of diction is not prominent. In fact he has been + sometimes alluded to by the playful prefix WINDBAG. If TAY PAY + had been content to administer reproof, it would have been + well. But he goes on to discuss SEXTON's parliamentary style, + and comes to this conclusion:—"Mr. SEXTON's one fault as + a speaker is that he does not proportion his observations + sufficiently at certain stages in his speeches; and that + preparation sometimes has the effect of tempting him to + over-elaboration." If TAY PAY likes to put it that way, no one + can object. Only, space in this journal being more valuable, + the same thing is said in a single word.</p> + + <p><i>Business done.</i>—Small Holdings Bill sent on to + the Lords.</p> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:68%;"> + <a href="images/276-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/276-3.png" + alt="OVERHEARD AT EARL'S COURT." /></a> + + <h3>OVERHEARD AT EARL'S COURT.</h3> + + <p><i>Old Buffer.</i> "UGH! I'M TIRED TO DEATH OF BEING + HUNTED! BLESSED IF I'LL RUN AWAY FROM THOSE BLANK + CARTRIDGES AGAIN!"</p> + + <p><i>Broncho.</i> "YES, YOU BET! AND I'VE MADE UP MY MIND + TO QUIT BUCKING. IT'S PERFECTLY SICKENING HAVING TO DO IT + FROM YEAR'S END TO YEAR'S END!"</p> + </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" /> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14652 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/14652-h/images/265.png b/14652-h/images/265.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0e1ad83 --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/265.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/266.png b/14652-h/images/266.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4eb8ecd --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/266.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/267.png b/14652-h/images/267.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b255d50 --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/267.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/268.png b/14652-h/images/268.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d1b86ec --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/268.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/269-1.png b/14652-h/images/269-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2698ba0 --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/269-1.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/269-2.png b/14652-h/images/269-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6edae5b --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/269-2.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/269-3.png b/14652-h/images/269-3.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2ac22c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/269-3.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/270.png b/14652-h/images/270.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3d2400a --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/270.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/271.png b/14652-h/images/271.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9bfa051 --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/271.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/273-1.png b/14652-h/images/273-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e8f9388 --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/273-1.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/273-2.png b/14652-h/images/273-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c39628e --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/273-2.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/274-1.png b/14652-h/images/274-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a0ec3b3 --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/274-1.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/274-2.png b/14652-h/images/274-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f52b76c --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/274-2.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/274-3.png b/14652-h/images/274-3.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9cfda5f --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/274-3.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/275.png b/14652-h/images/275.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6ef31cb --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/275.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/276-1.png b/14652-h/images/276-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..216cd9a --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/276-1.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/276-2.png b/14652-h/images/276-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f4dd74 --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/276-2.png diff --git a/14652-h/images/276-3.png b/14652-h/images/276-3.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6de8253 --- /dev/null +++ b/14652-h/images/276-3.png diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d9bbe1b --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #14652 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14652) diff --git a/old/14652-8.txt b/old/14652-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..87849bd --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14652-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1411 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 102, +June 4, 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, Vol. 102, June 4, 1892 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 10, 2005 [EBook #14652] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +PUNCH, + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 102. + + + +June 4, 1892. + + + + +LOST LUGGAGE. + +(_OR THE EXPERIENCES OF A "VACUUS VIATOR."_) + +_At the Douane, Ostend._--Just off _Princesse Henriette_; passengers +hovering about excitedly with bunches of keys, waiting for their +luggage to be brought ashore. Why can't they take things quietly--like +_me_? _I_ don't worry. Saw my portmanteau and bag labelled at +Victoria. Sure to turn up in due time. Some men when they travel +insist on taking hand-bags into the carriage with them--foolish, when +they might have them put in the van and get rid of all responsibility. +The _douaniers_ are examining the luggage--don't see mine--as yet. +It's all _right_, of course. People who are going on to Brussels and +Antwerp at once would naturally have their luggage brought out first. +Don't see the good of rushing about like that myself. I shall stay the +night here--put up at one of the hotels on the Digue, dine, and get +through the evening pleasantly at the Kursaal--sure to be _something_ +going on. Then I can go comfortably on by a mid-day train to-morrow. +Meanwhile my luggage still tarries. If I was a nervous man--luckily +I'm _not_. Come--that's the _bag_ at all events, with everything I +shall want for the night.... Annoying. Some other fellow's bag.... +No more luggage being brought out. Getting anxious--at least, just a +shade uneasy. Perhaps if I asked somebody--Accost a Belgian porter; +he wants my baggage ticket. They never gave me any ticket. It _did_ +occur to me (in the train) that I had always had my luggage registered +on going abroad before, but I supposed _they_ knew best, and didn't +worry. I came away to get a rest and avoid worry, and I _won't_ +worry.... The Porter and I have gone on board to hunt for the things. +They aren't _there_. Left behind at Dover probably. Wire for them at +once. No idea how difficult it was to describe luggage vividly and +yet economically till I tried. However, it will be sent on by the next +boat, and arrive some time in the evening, so it's of no consequence. +Now for the Hotel. Ask for the bus for the _Continental_. The +_Continental_ is not open yet. Very well, the _Hôtel de la Plage_, +then. Closed! All the hotels facing the sea _are_, it seems. +Sympathetic Porter recommends one in the town, and promises to come +and tell me as soon as the luggage turns up. + +[Illustration: "Please, de tings!"] + +_At the Hotel._--Find, on getting out of the omnibus, that the Hotel +is being painted; entrance blocked by ladders and pails. Squeeze past, +and am received in the hall by the Proprietress and a German Waiter. +"Certainly they can give me a room--my baggage shall be taken up +immed--" Here I have to explain that this is impracticable, as my +baggage has unfortunately been left behind. Think I see a change in +their manner at this. A stranger who comes abroad with nothing but +a stick and an umbrella cannot _expect_ to inspire confidence, I +suppose. I remark to the Waiter that the luggage is sure to follow me +by the next boat, but it strikes even myself that I do not bring this +out with quite a sincere ring. Not at all the manner of a man who +possesses a real portmanteau. I order dinner--the kind of dinner, +I feel, that a man who did not intend to pay for it _would_ order. +I detect this impression in the Waiter's eye. If he dared, I know +he would suggest tea and a boiled egg as more seemly under the +circumstances. + +_On the Digue._--Thought, it being holiday time, that there would +be more gaiety; but Ostend just now perhaps a little lacking in +liveliness--hotels, villas, and even the Kursaal all closely boarded +up with lead-coloured shutters. Only other person on Promenade a +fisher-boy scrooping over the tiles in _sabots_. I come to a glazed +shelter, and find the seats choked with drifting sand, and protected +with barbed wire. This depresses me. I did not want to sit down--but +the barbed wire _does_ seem needlessly unkind. Walk along the +sand-dunes; must pass the time somehow till dinner, and the arrival of +my luggage. Wonder whether it really _was_ labelled "Ostend." Suppose +the porter thought I said "Rochester" ... in that case--I will _not_ +worry about it like this. I will go back and see the town. + +I have; it is like a good many other foreign towns. I am melancholy. +I _can't_ dismiss that miserable luggage from my mind. To be alone +in a foreign land, without so much as a clean sock, is a distressing +position for a sensitive person. If I could only succeed in seeing a +humorous element in it, it would be _something_--but I can't. It is +too forlorn to be at all funny. And there is still an hour and a half +to get through before dinner! + +I have dined--in a small room, with a stove, a carved buffet, and a +portrait of the King of the BELGIANS; but my spirits are still low. +German Waiter dubious about me; reserving his opinion for the present. +He comes in with a touch of new deference in his manner. "Please, +a man from de shdation for you." I go out--to find the sympathetic +Porter. My baggage has arrived? It has; it is at the Douane, waiting +for me. I am saved! I tell the Waiter, without elation, but with +what, I trust, is a calm dignity--the dignity of a man who has been +misunderstood, but would scorn to resent it. + +_At the Station._--I have accompanied the Porter to the Terminus, such +a pleasant helpful fellow, so intelligent! The Ostend streets much +less dull at night. Feel relieved, in charity with all the world, now +that my prodigal portmanteau is safely reclaimed. Porter takes me +into a large luggage-room. Don't see my things just at first. "Your +baggage--_ere!_" says the Porter, proudly, and points out a little +drab valise with shiny black leather covers and brass studs--the kind +of thing a man goes a journey with in a French Melodrama! He is quite +hurt when I repudiate it indignantly; he tries to convince me that +it is mine--the fool! There is no other baggage of any sort, and mine +can't possibly arrive now before to-morrow afternoon, if then. Nothing +for it but to go back, luggageless, to the Hotel--and face that +confounded Waiter. + +Walk about the streets. Somehow I don't feel quite up to going back +to the Hotel just yet. The shops, which are small and rather dimly +lighted, depress me. There is no theatre, nor _café chantant_ open +apparently. If there were, I haven't the heart for them to-night. Hear +music from a small _estaminet_ in a back street; female voice, with +fine Cockney accent, is singing "_Oh, dem Golden Slippers!_" Wonder +where _my_ slippers are! + +_In my Bedroom._--I have had to come back at last, and get it +over with the Waiter. If he felt _any_ surprise, I think it was +to see me back at all. I have had to ask him if he could get me +some sleeping-things to pass the night in. _And_ a piece of soap. +Humiliating, but unavoidable. He promised, but he has not brought +them. Probably this last request has done for me, and he is now +communicating with the police.... + +A tap at my door. "Please, de tings!" says the Waiter. I have wronged +him. He has brought me _such_ a nightgown! Never saw anything in the +least like it before. It has flowers embroidered all down the front +and round the cuffs, and on every button something is worked in tiny +blue letters, which, on inspection, turns out to be "Good-night." I +don't quite know why, but, in my present state, I find this strangely +consoling, and even touching--like a benediction. After all, he _must_ +believe in me, or he would hardly confide his purple and fine linen to +me like this. Go to bed gorgeous, and dream that my portmanteau, bag, +and self-respect are all restored to me by the afternoon boat.... +There must be something in dreams, for, oddly enough, this is exactly +what _does_ happen. + +Next morning, at breakfast, I am handed a mysterious and, at first +sight, rather alarming telegram from the Station-master at Dover. +"Your bones will be sent on next boat." Suspect the word in the +original was "_boxes_." But they may call them what they like, so +long as I get them back again. + + * * * * * + +"_The Campaign against the Jebus. Gallant Advance of the British._" +Dear old Mrs. RAM wants to know "who is commanding the British forces +in the campaign against the Jebus" (which she spells "Gibus")? +_Mr. Punch_ is glad to inform his estimable correspondent that the +principal officers commanding in the Gibus Campaign are Generals +WIDE-AWAKE, BILLICOCK, JIMCROW, POTT, and BELTOPPER. Their strategical +movements are worthy of the First Nap. + + * * * * * + +CONSIDERATE.--Arrangements are to be made for all Standing Committees +in future to sit at certain hours. "For this relief, much thanks," as +WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, M.P., observed. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: RECIPROCAL. + +_Sporting Gentleman._ "WELL, SIR, I'M VERY PLEASED TO HAVE MADE YOUR +ACQUAINTANCE, AND HAD THE OPPORTUNITY OF HEARING A CHURCHMAN'S VIEWS +ON THE QUESTION OF TITHES. OF COURSE, AS A COUNTRY LANDOWNER, I'M +INTERESTED IN CHURCH MATTERS, AND--" + +_The Parson._ "QUITE SO--DELIGHTED, I'M SURE. ER--BY THE BYE, COULD +YOU TELL ME _WHAT'S WON TO-DAY_?"] + + * * * * * + +THE BURIAL OF THE "BROAD-GAUGE." + +MAY 23, 1892. + + ["Drivers of Broad-Gauge Engines wandering disconsolately + about with their engine-lamps in their hands; followed by + their firemen with pick and shovel over their shoulder, + waiting in anxious expectation of the time when that + new-fangled machine, a narrow-gauge engine, should come down + a day or two after."--_Times' Special at Plymouth on Death of + Broad Gauge._] + + Not a whistle was heard, not a brass bell-note, + As his corse o'er the sleepers we hurried; + Not a fog-signal wailed from a husky throat + O'er the grave where our "Broad-Gauge" we buried. + + We buried him darkly, at dead of night, + The sod with our pickaxes turning, + By the danger-signal's ruddy light, + And our oil-lamps dimly burning. + + No useless tears, though we loved him well! + Long years to his fire-box had bound us. + We fancied we glimpsed the great shade of BRUNEL, + In sad sympathy hovering round us. + + Few and gruff were the words we said, + But we thought, with a natural sorrow, + Of the Narrow-Gauge foe of the Loco. just dead, + _We_ should have to attend on the morrow. + + We thought, as we hollowed his big broad bed, + And piled the brown earth o'er his funnel, + How his foe o'er the Great-Western metals would tread, + Shrieking triumph through cutting and tunnel. + + Lightly they'll talk of him now he is gone, + For the cheap "Narrow Gauge" has outstayed him, + Yet BULL _might_ have found, had he let it go on, + That BRUNEL's Big Idea would have paid him! + + But the battle is ended, our task is done; + After forty years' fight he's retiring.[1] + This hour sees thy triumph, O STEPHENSON; + Old "Broad Gauge" no more will need firing. + + The "Dutchman" must now be "divided in two"!-- + Well, well, they shan't mangle or mess _you_! + Accept the last words of friends faithful, if few:-- + "Good-bye, poor old Broad-Gauge, God bless you!"[2] + + Slowly and sadly we laid him down. + He has filled a great chapter in story. + We sang not a dirge--we raised not a stone, + But we left the "Broad Gauge" to his glory! + +[Footnote 1: The Royal Commission appointed to inquire into the + uniformity of railway gauges, presented their report to Parliament + on May 30, 1846.] + +[Footnote 2: Words found written on one of the G.-W. rails.] + + * * * * * + +TO A DEAR YOUNG FEMININE FRIEND, WHO SPELT "WAGON" AS "WAGGON." + + Bad spelling? Oh dear no! So tender, she + Wished that the cart should have an extra "_gee_." + + * * * * * + +KILLING NO MURDER. + +(_TO THE EDITOR OF "PUNCH."_) + +MY DEAR SIR,--I have just been reading with a great deal of surprise +"_The Life and Letters of Charles Samuel Keene_, by GEORGE SOMES +LAYARD." Seeing the name of one of your colleagues as the first line +of the "Index," I turned to page 74 and looked him out. I found him +mentioned in an account given by Mr. M.H. SPIELMANN of the _Punch_ +Dinner, which Mr. GEORGE SOMES LAYARD had extracted from _Black and +White_, no doubt to assist in making up his book. The following is +the quotation:--"The Editor, as I have said, presides; should he be +unavoidably absent, another writer--usually, nowadays, Mr. ARTHUR +A'BECKETT--takes his place, the duty never falling to an artist." +Then, to show how thoroughly Mr. GEORGE SOMES LAYARD is up to date, +he adds to the name of Mr. ARTHUR A'BECKETT (after the fashion of +_Mr. Punch_ in the drama disposing of the clown or the beadle), "since +dead." Now Mr. ARTHUR A'BECKETT is not dead, but very much alive. +Do you not think, Sir, it would be better were gentlemen who write +about yourself and your colleagues, to verify their facts before they +attempt to give obituary notices, even if they be as brief as the one +in question? + + Yours, truly, + MORE GAY THAN GRAVE. + + * * * * * + +NEW AND APPROPRIATE NAME FOR MODERN PUGILISM.--The "Nobble" Art. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE BURIAL OF THE "BROAD-GAUGE."] + + * * * * * + +STUDIES IN THE NEW POETRY. + +The world is of course aware by this time that a New Poetry has +arisen, and has asserted itself by the mouths of many loud-voiced +"boomers." It has been _Mr. Punch's_ good fortune to secure several +specimens of this new product, not through the intervention of middle +men, but from the manufacturers themselves. He proposes to publish +them for the benefit and enlightenment of his readers. But first a +word of warning. There are perhaps some who believe that a poem should +not only express high and noble thoughts, or recount great deeds, but +that it should do so in verse that is musical, cadenced, rhythmical, +instinct with grace, and reserved rather than boisterous. If any +such there be, let them know at once that they are hopelessly +old-fashioned. The New Poetry in its _highest_ expression banishes +form, regularity and rhythm, and treats rhyme with unexampled +barbarity. Here and there, it is true, rhymes get paired off quite +happily in the conventional manner, but directly afterwards you may +come upon a poor weak little rhyme who will cry in vain for his mate +through half a dozen interloping lines. Indeed, cases have been known +of rhymes that have been left on a sort of desert island of a verse, +and have never been fetched away. And sometimes when the lines have +got chopped very short, the rhymes have tumbled overboard altogether. +That is really what is meant by "impressionism" in poetry carried to +its highest excellence. There are, of course, other forms of the New +Poetry. There is the "blustering, hob-nailed" variety which clatters +up and down with immense noise, elbows you here, and kicks you there, +and if it finds a pardonable weakness strolling about in the middle of +the street, immediately knocks it down and tramples upon it. Then too +there is the "coarse, but manly" kind which swears by the great god, +Jingo, and keeps a large stock of spread eagles always ready to swoop +and tear without the least provocation. + +However, _Mr. Punch_ may as well let his specimens speak for +themselves. Here, then, is + +NO. I.--A GRAVESEND GREGORIAN. + +BY W.E. H-NL-Y. (_CON BRIO._) + + Deep in a murky hole, + Cavernous, untransparent, fetid, dank, + The demiurgus of the servants' hall, + The scuttle-bearing buttons, boon and blank + And grimy loads his evening load of coals, + Filled with respect for the cook's and butler's rank, + Lo, the round cook half fills the hot retreat, + Her kitchen, where the odours of the meat, + The cabbage and sweets all merge as in a pall, + The stale unsavoury remnants of the feast. + Here, with abounding confluences of onion, + Whose vastitudes of perfume tear the soul + In wish of the not unpotatoed stew, + They float and fade and flutter like morning dew. + And all the copper pots and pans in line, + A burnished army of bright utensils, shine; + And the stern butler heedless of his bunion + Looks happy, and the tabby-cat of the house + Forgets the elusive, but recurrent mouse + And purrs and dreams; + And in his corner the black-beetle seems + A plumed Black Prince arrayed in gleaming mail; + Whereat the shrinking scullery-maid grows pale, + And flies for succour to THOMAS of the calves, + Who, doing nought by halves, + Circles a gallant arm about her waist, + And takes unflinching the cheek-slap of the chaste + And giggling fair, nor counts his labour lost. + Then, beer, beer, beer. + Spume-headed, bitter, golden like the gold + Buried by cutlassed pirates tempest-tossed, + Red-capped, immitigable, over-bold + With blood and rapine, spreaders of fire and fear. + The kitchen table + Is figured with the ancient, circular stains + Of the pint-pot's bottom; beer is all the go. + And every soul in the servants' hall is able + To drink his pint or hers until they grow + Glorious with golden beer, and count as gains + The glowing draughts that presage morning pains. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: QUITE UNANSWERABLE. + +_Ethel._ "MAMMY DEAR! WHY DO YOU POWDER YOUR FACE, AND WHY DOES THOMAS +POWDER HIS HAIR? I DON'T DO EITHER!"] + + * * * * * + +EPISCOPACY IN DANGER.--_Mr. Punch_ congratulates Dr. PEROWNE, Bishop +of Worcester, on his narrow fire-escape some days ago, when his lawn +sleeves (a costume more appropriate for a garden-party than a pulpit) +caught fire. It was extinguished by a bold Churchwarden. In future let +Churchwardens be prepared with hose whenever a prelate runs any chance +of ignition from his own "burning eloquence." If _Mr. Punch's_ advice +as above is acted upon, a Bishop if "put out" may probably mutter, +"Darn your hose." But this can be easily explained away. + + * * * * * + +BETTER AND BETTER.--The Report last week about Sir ARTHUR SULLIVAN +was that "he hopes to go to the country shortly." So do our political +parties. Sir ARTHUR cannot restrain himself from writing new and +original music at a rapid pace. This, is a consequence of his having +taken so many composing draughts. + + * * * * * + +"OUR BOOKING OFFICE."--Not open this week, as the Baron has been +making a book. Interesting subject, "On the Derby and Oaks." Being +in sporting mood, the Baron adopts as his motto King SOLOMON's +words of wisdom, out of his (King SOLOMON's) own mines of golden +treasures,--"And of book-making there is no end." He substitutes +"book-making" for "making of books," and with the poetic CAMPBELL +(HERBERT of that ilk) he sings, "it makes no difference." + + * * * * * + +AFTER THE EVENT.--Last Sunday week was the one day in the year when +ancient Joe Millers were permissible. It was "Chestnut Sunday." We +didn't like to mention it before. + + * * * * * + +The Royal General Theatrical Fund Dinner, held last Thursday, will be +remembered in the annals of the Stage as "ALEXANDER's Feast." + + * * * * * + +HORACE IN LONDON. TO A COQUETTE. (AD PYRRHAM.) + +[Illustration] + + What stripling, flowered and scent-bedewed, + Now courts thee in what solitude? + For whom dost thou in order set + Thy tresses' aureole, Coquette. + + "Neat, but not gaudy"?--Soon Despond + (Too soon!) at flouted faith and fond, + Soon tempests halcyon tides above + Shall wreck this raw recruit of Love; + + Who counts for gold each tinsel whim, + And hopes thee always all for him, + And trusts thee, smiling, spite of doom + And traitorous breezes! Hapless, whom + + Thy glamour holds untried. For me, + I've dared enough that fitful sea; + Its "breach of promise" grim hath curst + Both purse and person with its worst. + + My "dripping weeds" are doffed; and I + Sit "landed," like my wine, and "dry;" + What "weeds" survive I smoke, and rub + My hands in harbour at my Club! + + * * * * * + +OPERATIC NOTES. + +_Monday._--_L'Amico Fritz_ at last! Better late than never. A Dramatic +Operatic Idyl. "Nothing in it," as _Sir Charles Coldstream_ observes, +except the music, the singing, and the acting of Signor DE LUCIA as +_Fritz_ Our Friend, of M. DUFRICHE as the _Rabbi_ of Mlle. GIULIA +RAVOGLI as _Boy Beppe_, of Mlle. BAUERMEISTER as _Caterina_, and of +Madame CALVÉ as _Suzel_. Not an indifferent performer or singer among +them, and not an individual in the audience indifferent to their +performance. Cherry-Tree Duet, between _Suzel_ and _Fritz_, great hit. +Admirably sung and acted, and vociferously encored. Nay, they would +have had it three times if they could, but though Sir DRURIOLANUS sets +his face against encores, allowing not too much encore but just encore +enough, he, as an astute Manager, cannot see why persons who have +paid to hear a thing only once should hear it three times for the same +money. No; if they like it so much that they want it again, and must +have it, and won't be happy till they get it, then let them encore +their own performance of paying for their seats, and come and hear +their favourite _morçeaux_ over and over again as often as they like +to pay. He will grant one encore no more. Sir DRURIOLANUS is right. Do +we insist on Mr. IRVING giving us "To be or not to be," or any other +soliloquy, all over again, simply because he has done it once so well? +Do we ask Mr. J.L. TOOLE to repeat his author's good jokes--or his own +when his author has failed him? No; we applaud to the echo, we laugh +till, as Mr. CHEVALIER says, "we thort we should ha' died," but +we don't encore the comic jokes, telling situations, or serious +soliloquies as rendered by our accomplished histrions. + +[Illustration: The Rabbinical-Hat-Beer-Jug.] + +Were a collection of pictures made of Mlle. BAUERMEISTER in different +characters, it would, for interest and variety, become a formidable +rival of the CHARLES MATHEWS series now in the possession of the +Garrick Club. To-night she is the busy, bustling _Caterina_, _Friend +Fritz's_ housekeeper, who, as she has to provide all the food for +their breakfast, and set it on the table, might be distinguished as +_Catering Caterina_. No one now cares to see an Opera without Mlle. +BAUERMEISTER in it, whether she appear as a dashing lady of the Court, +probably in a riding-habit, or as a middle-class German housekeeper, +or as Cupid God of Love, or as _Juliet's_ ancient nurse, or as an +impudent waiting-maid, or as an unhappy mother, or as,--well,--any +number of characters that I cannot now recall, but all done +excellently well. Never have I heard of her being either "sick or +sorry." Some few seasons ago I drew public attention to this most +useful and ornamental _artiste_, and now I am glad to see that here +and there a critic has awoke to the fact of her existence, and has +done her tardy justice. Long may the Bauermeistersinger be able to +give her valuable assistance, without which no Covent Garden Opera +Company could possibly be perfect. + +[Illustration: Bob-Cherry Duet.] + +As to _L'Amico Fritz_, I should suggest that it be played in one +Scene and two Acts. That this one Scene should be the Exterior of +Cherry-Tree Farm (which should be _Fritz's_, not the _Rabbi's_) +and that instead of lowering the Curtain, the _intermezzo_--not I +venture to opine equal to the marvellous _intermezzo_ in _Cavalleria +Rusticana_--should be played. _L'Amico_ is certain of an encore, and +this will give the singers a rest. It could then commence at nine--a +more convenient hour to those who would like to hear every note of it, +than 8:15, and it would be over by eleven sharp. A nod is as good as a +wink to Sir DRURIOLANUS, but all the same, Heaven forefend I should +be guilty of either indiscretion in the Imperial Operatorial presence. +Thus much at present. + +_Friday._--"It's the smiles of its AUGUSTUS and the heat of its +July"--adapted quotation from "Old Song." "I cannot sing the old +song"--except under a sense of the deepest and most unpardonable +provocation; and when I do!!--_Cave canem, ruat coelum!_ I bring down +the house as Madame DELILAH's SAMSON did. To-night _Manon_ is indeed +warmly welcomed. "A nice Opera," says a young lady, fanning herself. +"I wish it were an iced Opera," groans WAGSTAFF, re-issuing one of +his earliest side-splitters. M. VAN DYCK strong as the weak _Des +Grieux_, but Madame MRAVINA apparently not strong enough. "What made +author-chap think of calling her _Manon_?" asks languid person in +Stalls. WAGSTAFF, revived after an iced B.-and-S., is equal to the +occasion. "Such a bad lot, you know--regular man-catcher; hooked a +_man on_, then, when he was done with, hooked another man on. Reason +for name evident, see?" The _Cavalleria Rusticana_ is the favourite +for Derby Night. All right up to now, Sir DRURIOLANUS. + + * * * * * + +TENNER SONG FOR DERBY DAY.--"_He's got it on!_" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: WHAT OUR ARTIST (THE SMALL AND SUSCEPTIBLE ONE) HAS TO +PUT UP WITH. + +_Miss Binks._ "PRAY, MR. TITMOUSE, WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DRAW SUCH +IMMENSELY TALL WOMEN?" + +_Our Artist._ "WELL, MISS BINKS, I SUPPOSE IT'S BECAUSE I'M SUCH A +TINY LITTLE MAN MYSELF. CONTRAST, YOU SEE!" + +_Miss Binks._ "AH, YES, CONTRAST! THAT IS HOW WE TINY LITTLE WOMEN +ALWAYS ATTRACT ALL THE FINE TALL MEN! THAT'S HOW _WE_ SCORE!" + +_Our Artist._ "EXACTLY. I ONLY WISH TO GOODNESS YOU'D ATTRACT THAT +VERY FINE TALL MAN AWAY FROM MISS JONES--THEN _I_ MIGHT HAVE A CHANCE, +PERHAPS!"] + + * * * * * + +A VERY "DARK HORSE." + + ["The Country knows ... what it is we desire to do. What the + Right Hon. Gentleman (Mr. GLADSTONE) desires to do no human + being knows. If we have done our part, as we have done, to + clear the issues, all we can ask him is to do his part, to + lay before the electorate of this country in the same plain, + unmistakable outline, the policy which he desires to see + adopted."--_Mr. Balfour on Second Reading of Irish Local + Government Bill._] + + SCENE--_The Paddock, before the Great Race. Rising Young + Jockey_, ARTHUR BALFOUR, _mounted on the Crack Irish Horse. + Enter Grand Old Jockey, at the moment minus a mount._ + +_Grand Old Jockey_ (_aside_). Humph! Don't look so bad, now, despite + the dead set + That against him we've made since his very first running, + Do they mean him to win after all? Artful set, + That Stable! It strikes me they've been playing cunning. + One wouldn't have backed him, first off, for a bob. + His owner concerning him scarcely seemed caring. + Eugh! No one supposed he was fair "on the job"; + A mere trial-horse, simply "out for an airing." + When he first stripped in public he looked such a screw, + He was hailed with a general chorus of laughter; + Young BAL seemed abashed at the general yahboo! + And pooh-poohed his new mount! What the doose is he after? + I'm bound to admit the Horse _looks_ pretty fit, + And the boy sits him well, and as though he meant _trying_. + I say, this won't do! I must bounce him a bit. + Most awkward, you know, if his "slug" takes to _flying_! + +_Rising Young Jockey_ (_aside_). Hillo! There's Old WILLIAM! He's out + on the scoot. + The artful Old Hand! Hope he'll like what he looks on! + He slated this nag as a peacocky brute, + Whose utter collapse they've been building their books on. + How now, my spry veteran? Only a boy + On a three-legged crock? Well, I own you are older, + And watching your riding's a thing to enjoy; + There isn't a Jock who is defter _and_ bolder; + Your power, authority, eloquence--yes, + For your gift of the gab is a caution--are splendid; + But--the youngster _may_ teach you a lesson, I guess, + As to judgment of pace ere the contest is ended. + +_Grand Old Jockey_ (_aloud_). Well, ARTHUR my lad, in the saddle + again! + Is _that_ your crack mount? + +_Rising Young Jockey._ The identical one, WILL. + +_Grand Old Jockey._ Dear, dear, what a pity! It quite gives me pain + To see you so wasted. + +_Rising Young Jockey._ That's only your fun, WILL. + +_Grand Old Jockey._ Nay, nay, not at all! Don't think much of his + points. + He's not bred like a true-blood, nor built like a winner. + Not well put together, so coarse in his joints, + In fact--only fit for a hunting-pack's dinner! + +_Rising Young Jockey_ (_laughing_). Oh! "Cat's-meat!" is your cry, is + it, WILLIAM? Well, well! + We shall see about that when the winning-post's handy. + +_Grand Old Jockey._ _You_ won't, my brave boy; that a novice could + tell. + You'll be left in the ruck at the end, my young dandy, + +_Rising Young Jockey._ Perhaps! Still the pencillers haven't,--as + yet-- + Quite knocked the nag out with their furious fever + Of hot opposition. Some cool ones still bet + On his chance of a win. + +_Grand Old Jockey_ (_contemptuously_). Ah, you're wonderful clever. + But we have got one in _our_ Stable, my lad, + Who can--just lick his head off! + +_Rising Young Jockey_ (_drily_). Now have you indeed, WILL? + I fancy I've heard that before. Very glad + That your lot are in luck; and I hope you'll succeed, WILL, + But bless me! yours seems such a _very_ Dark Horse! + Oh! there, don't fire up so! Your word I won't doubt, WILL. + You say so, and one must believe you, of course; + But--_isn't_ it time that you _brought the nag out_, WILL? + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A VERY "DARK HORSE." + +OLD JOCKEY. "DON'T THINK MUCH OF HIS POINTS! WE'VE ONE IN OUR STABLE +CAN LICK HIS HEAD OFF!" + +YOUNG JOCKEY. "_HAVE_ YOU? THEN WHY DON'T YOU _BRING HIM OUT_?"] + + * * * * * + +HISTORY AS SHE IS PLAYED! + +_Questioner._ Why should M.V. SARDOU be called the Historian of the + French Revolution? + +_Answerer._ Because in _Thermidor_ he has given an entirely new + version of the "Reign of Terror." + +_Q._ Was the "Reign of Terror" very terrible? + +_A._ Not very. At the Opéra Comique it had its comic side. + +_Q._ How was that? + +_A._ For instance, _les tricoteuses_ were represented by comely, + albeit plump maidens, who seemed more inclined to dance round a + Maypole than haunt a scaffold. + +_Q._ Were ROBESPIERRE, ST. JUST, and the rest, cruel and vindictive? + +_A._ I should say not; and I found my conclusion on the fact that they + engaged an actor given to practical joking as an officer of the Public + Security. + +_Q._ From this, do you take it that ROBESPIERRE must have had a subtle +sense of humour? + +_A._ I do; and the impression is strengthened by his order for a + general slaughter of Ursuline Nuns. + +_Q._ Why should he order such a massacre? + +_A._ To catch the heroine of _Thermidor_, a lady who had taken the + vows under the impression that her lover had been killed by the enemy. + +_Q._ Had her lover been killed? + +_A._ Certainly not; he had preferred to surrender. + +_Q._ Can you give me any idea of the component part of a revolutionary + crowd? + +_A._ At the Opéra Comique, a revolutionary crowd seems to consist of + a number of mournful loungers, who have nothing to do save to take + a languid interest in the fate of a tearful maiden, and a few _gens + d'armes_ a little uncertain about their parade-ground. + +_Q._ How do the mournful loungers express their interest in the fate + of the tearful maiden? + +_A._ By pointing her out one to another, and when she is ordered off + to execution removing their hats, and fixing I their attention on + something concealed behind the scenes. + +_Q._ What is your present idea of the Reign of Terror? + +_A._ My present idea of the Reign of Terror is, that it was the + mildest thing imaginable. In my opinion, not even a child in arms + would have been frightened at it. + +_Q._ Do you not consider M. MAYER deserving of honour? + +_A._ Certainly I do. For has he not removed (with the assistance of M. + SARDOU and the Opéra Comique) several fond illusions of my youth? + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: NATURE V. ART. + +_Æsthetic Friend._ "YES, THIS ROOM'S RATHER NICE, ALL BUT THE WINDOW, +WITH THESE LARGE BLANK PANES OF PLATE-GLASS! I SHOULD LIKE TO SEE SOME +SORT OF PATTERN ON THEM--LITTLE SQUARES OR LOZENGES OR ARABESQUES--" + +_Philistine._ "WELL, BUT THOSE LOVELY CHERRY BLOSSOMS, AND THE LAKE, +AND THE DISTANT MOUNTAIN, AND THE BEAUTIFUL SUNSETS, AND THE PURPLE +CLOUDS--ISN'T THAT PATTERN ENOUGH?"] + + * * * * * + +THE MORNING OF THE DERBY.--_Hamlet_ considering whether he shall go +to Epsom for the great race or not, soliloquises, "Der-_be_ or not +Der-_be_, that is the question." [N.B.--As to the other lines, go as +you please. "The rest is silence."] + + * * * * * + +"MARRIED AND SINGLE" should be played by Lady-Cricketers. No single +young person under seventeen should be permitted an innings, as any +two sweet sixteens would be "not out," and there would be no chance +for the other side. Match-makers are only interested in the Single. + + * * * * * + +LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--For the first time have I seen myself in print!--and +I must say I think it very becoming--and so nice and cool too this +hot weather! You are indeed a sweet creature for adopting my idea +so readily--and I really must say that if these obstinate Members of +Parliament who oppose Women's Suffrage would only alter their views, +it would be much better for the Country--or worse--I don't know which! + +[Illustration] + +Sir MINTING BLOUNDELL, whose criticism on my contribution to your +well-written journal I invited, complimented me on my style, and +suggested that when giving my selections it might be as well to +refer to the "Home Trials" of the horses mentioned--but I venture +to disagree with him! Goodness knows we all have home trials enough! +(Lord ARTHUR and I frequently do not speak for a week unless someone +is present)--but I do not think these things should be made public, +and besides, it is an unwritten law amongst "smart" people to avoid +subjects that "chafe"--which sounds like an anachronism--whatever that +means! Having an opportunity of a "last word" on the Derby, I should +like to say that, although my confidence in my last week's selection, +_La Flêche_, is unshaken, I wish to have a second "arrow" to my bow +in _Llanthony_--of whom a very keen judge of racing (Lord BOURNEMOUTH +to wit) has formed the opinion that--in his own words--"he will be +on the premises"! The premises in question being Epsom Downs, there +will undoubtedly be room for him without his filling an unnecessarily +prominent position, so I will couple _Llanthony_ with _La Flêche_ to +supply the probable last in the Derby. + +Meanwhile, I must say a word or two about the Ladies' Race at Epsom +on Friday next. There is absolutely no knowing what will start for +the Oaks nowadays until the numbers go up--and no Turf Prophet will +venture a selection until the morning of the race--and _this_ is where +the perspicuity of an Editor like yourself, _Mr. Punch_, scores a +distinct hit--for such a paltry consideration as "knowing nothing +about it" is not likely to daunt a woman who takes as her motto the +well-known line from SHAKSPEARE: "Thus Angels rush where Cowards fear +to tread!"--so herewith I confidently append my verse selection for +the last Mare in the Oaks! + + Yours devotedly, + LADY GAY. + +THE TIP. + + 'Tis the voice of the Sluggard, I hear him complain, + You have waked me too soon--an unpleasant surprise! + In an hour or so later pray call me again, + When, if feeling refreshed, I will straightway "_Arise!_" + + * * * * * + +QUITE IN KEEPING.--The Earl of DYSART has left the ranks of the +Liberal Unionists and become a Gladstonian Home-Ruler. "What more +natural?" asked one of his former Unionist friends. "Of course he's +dysarted us!" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A MISUNDERSTANDING. + +_He._ "OH, IF I'D ONLY BEEN A 'BEAR'!" + +_She._ "IF YOU HAD BEEN, YOU COULDN'T GROWL WORSE THAN YOU DO!"] + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. + +_House of Commons, Monday, May 23._--REDMOND, Junior, said really +funny thing just now. Rising to take part in resumed Debate on Irish +Local Government Bill, he announced in loud angry tone that it would +be waste of time to discuss a Bill the Government evidently did not +intend to press through this Session, and he for one would be no party +to such a farce. Then he went on to talk for half an hour. + +[Illustration: "Joe!"] + +Debate on the whole something better than last week's contribution. +O'BRIEN delivered himself of glowing denunciation full of felicitous +phrases, all got through in half an hour. CHAMBERLAIN followed; +has not yet got over startling novelty of his interposition in +Debate being welcomed by loud cheers from Conservatives; thinks +of old Aston-Park days, when the cheering was, as WEBSTER (not +Attorney-General) says, "on the other boot." Now, when JOSEPH gets +up to demolish his Brethren sitting near, Conservatives opposite +settle themselves down with the peculiar rustling motion with which +a congregation in crowded church or chapel arrange themselves to +listen to a favourite preacher. Pretty to watch them as CHAMBERLAIN +goes forward with his speech, delighting them with surprise to find +how much better is their position than they thought when it was +recommended or extolled from their own side. JOSEPH not nearly so +acrimonious to-night as sometimes. Still, as usual, his speech +chiefly directed to his former Brethren who sit attentive, thinking +occasionally with regret of the fatal shallowness of the pit, and +the absence of arrangement for hermetically sealing it. If only--But +that is another story. COURTNEY at end of Bench is thinking of still +another, which has the rare charm of being true. It befel at a quiet +dinner where JOSEPH, finding himself in contiguity with Chairman of +Committees, took opportunity of rebuking him for his alleged laxity +in repressing disorder. + +[Illustration: The Fighting Colonel.] + +"I should like to know," he asked, "whether, supposing I were to fire +a pistol across the House, you would call it a breach of order." + +"I don't think, CHAMBERLAIN," said Prince ARTHUR, who was sitting at +the other side of the table, "that if you were going to fire a pistol +in the Commons, you would point it across the House." TIM HEALY just +back from Dublin, where he's been appearing in his favourite character +of pacificator; followed CHAMBERLAIN, and later came SAUNDERSON. But +even he suffered from prevailing tone of dulness, and WILFRID LAWSON, +fast asleep in the corner by Cross Benches, did not miss much. +_Business done._--More talk on Local Government Bill. + +_Tuesday._--If anyone looking on at House of Commons at three o'clock +this afternoon had predicted that within an hour it would be teeming +with life, brimming over with human interest, he would have been +looked upon with cold suspicion. NOLAN had taken the floor, and was +understood to be expressing his deliberate opinion on merits of Irish +Local Government Bill. He was certainly saying something, but what it +might be no man could tell. LYON PLAYFAIR, who is up in all kinds of +statistics, tells me 120 words per minute is the average utterance +of articulate speech. NOLAN was doing his 300, and sometimes exceeded +that rate. Not a comma in a column of it. A humming-top on the subject +would have been precisely as instructive and convincing. Some twenty +Members sat there fascinated by the performance. It was not delivered +in a monotone, in which case one could have slept. NOLAN was evidently +arguing in incisive manner, shirking no obstacle, avoiding no point +in the Bill, or any hit made by previous speaker. His voice rose and +fell with convincing modulation. He seemed to be always dropping into +an aside, which led him into another, that opened a sort of Clapham +Junction of converging points. One after the other, the Colonel, with +full steam up, ran along; when he reached terminus of siding, racing +back at sixty miles an hour; and so up and down another. Only guessed +this from modulation of his voice and the intelligent nodding of the +head with which he compelled the attention of ATTORNEY-GENERAL for +IRELAND. For just over half an hour he kept up this pace, and, saving +a trot for the avenue, fell back into his seat gasping for breath, +having concluded a sentence nine hundred words long worked off in +three minutes by the astonished clock. + +[Illustration: THE GLADSTONIAN BAGMAN. + +["I regard myself as a commercial traveller."--_Speech by Sir William +Harcourt at Bristol, May_ 11, 1892.]] + +[Illustration: "T.W."] + +An interval of T.W. RUSSELL, with one of his adroitly-argued, +lucidly-arranged speeches. Then Mr. G. and transformation scene. House +filled up as if by magic. In ten minutes not a seat vacant on floor; +Members running into Side Gallery, nimbly hopping over Benches, to get +on front line so as to watch as well as hear the last and the greatest +of the old Parliamentarians. As suddenly and swiftly as the House had +filled, the limp lay figure of the Debate throbbed with life. Scene of +the kind witnessed only once or twice in Session. Six hundred pair of +eyes all turned eagerly upon figure standing at Table, denouncing with +uplifted arm, and voice ringing with indignation, the iniquities of +the MARKISS, safely absent, and of his nephew, Prince ARTHUR, serenely +present. + +A great speech; an achievement which, if it stood alone, sufficient to +make a reputation. And yet, when result of Division announced, it was +found that majority of an iniquitous Government had run up to 92! + +Everyone delighted to hear the interesting news from 27, St. +James's Place, which gives an heir to the Spencer Earldom, and has +spread a feeling of joy and contentment throughout Althorpe and +Mid-Northamptonshire. The latest news, brought down just now by +MARJORIBANKS, is "BOBBY is doing as well as can be expected." +_Business done._--Irish Local Government Bill read Second Time, by +339 votes against 247. + +_Wednesday._--Hail! Sir HENRY WIGGIN, Bart, M.P.; B.B.K., as ARTHUR +ORTON called himself when resident in the wilds of Australia, and +explained that the style imported Baronet of the British Kingdom. +_Now_ we know what was the meaning of that foray upon the House the +other day, when, with the Chairman in the Chair, and Committee fully +constituted, the waggish WIGGIN walked adown the House, with his +hat cocked on one side of his head, in defiance of Parliamentary +etiquette. The Birthday Gazette was even then being drafted, and +to-day the wanton WIGGIN is Sir HENRY, Baronet of the United Kingdom. +_Not_ a more popular announcement in the list. An honest, kindly, +shrewd WIGGIN it is, with a face whose genial smile all people, +warming under it, instinctively return. + +_Business done._--WIGGIN made B.B.K. + +_Thursday._--Quite a long time reaching Vote on Account; two hours +taken for discussion of Birmingham Water Bill; Gentlemen in Radical +camp much exercised about size of fish in streams annexed for purposes +of Birmingham water supply. CHAMBERLAIN, who has charge of Bill, says +he never caught one longer than two inches. DILLWYN protests that +fishing in same waters he rarely caught one less than a pound weight. +Evidently a mistake somewhere. House perplexed, finally passed Bill +through Committee. + +[Illustration: The Noble Baron.] + +Then Rev. SAM SMITH wants to know more about Polynesian Labour +Traffic. The NOBLE BARON who has charge of Colonial affairs in +Commons, whilst controverting all his statements, says "everyone must +admit that the Hon. Member has spoken from his heart." "Which," NOVAR +says, "it reminds me of the couplet _Joe Gargery_ meant to put on the +tombstone of his lamented father, 'What-sume'er the failings on his +part, Remember, reader, he were that good in his hart.'" + +At length in Committee of Supply; Vote on Account moved; Mr. G. on his +feet wanting to know you know; doesn't once mention the Dissolution; +but puts it to Prince ARTHUR whether, really, the time hasn't come +when House should learn something with respect to intentions of +Government touching finance, their principal Bills, and, in short, "so +far foreshadowing the probable termination of the Session?" Wouldn't +on any account hurry him; any day he likes will do; only getting time +something should be said. Prince ARTHUR, gratefully acknowledging +Mr. G.'s kind way of putting it, agreed with his view. Some day he +will tell us something; to-day he will say nothing. A pretty bit +of by-play; excellently done by both leading Gentlemen; perfectly +understood by laughing House. + +_Business done._--Shadow of Dissolution gathering close. + +_Friday._--I see TAY PAY, in the interesting Sunday journal he +admirably edits, reproaches me because, in this particular page +of history, "Mr. SEXTON," he says, "is derided constantly and +shamefully." _Anglicè_: Occasionally when, in a faithful record of +Parliamentary events, SEXTON's part in the proceedings must needs be +noticed, it is gently hinted that among his many admirable qualities +terseness of diction is not prominent. In fact he has been sometimes +alluded to by the playful prefix WINDBAG. If TAY PAY had been +content to administer reproof, it would have been well. But he +goes on to discuss SEXTON's parliamentary style, and comes to this +conclusion:--"Mr. SEXTON's one fault as a speaker is that he does +not proportion his observations sufficiently at certain stages in his +speeches; and that preparation sometimes has the effect of tempting +him to over-elaboration." If TAY PAY likes to put it that way, no one +can object. Only, space in this journal being more valuable, the same +thing is said in a single word. + +_Business done._--Small Holdings Bill sent on to the Lords. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: OVERHEARD AT EARL'S COURT. + +_Old Buffer._ "UGH! I'M TIRED TO DEATH OF BEING HUNTED! BLESSED IF +I'LL RUN AWAY FROM THOSE BLANK CARTRIDGES AGAIN!" + +_Broncho._ "YES, YOU BET! AND I'VE MADE UP MY MIND TO QUIT BUCKING. +IT'S PERFECTLY SICKENING HAVING TO DO IT FROM YEAR'S END TO YEAR'S +END!"] + + * * * * * + +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, Vol. +102, June 4, 1892, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 14652-8.txt or 14652-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/6/5/14652/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 102, June 4, 1892 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 10, 2005 [EBook #14652] + +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>June 4, 1892.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page265" + id="page265"></a>[pg 265]</span> + + <h2>LOST LUGGAGE.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>Or the Experiences of a "Vacuus Viator."</i>)</h4> + + <p><i>At the Douane, Ostend.</i>—Just off <i>Princesse + Henriette</i>; passengers hovering about excitedly with bunches + of keys, waiting for their luggage to be brought ashore. Why + can't they take things quietly—like <i>me</i>? <i>I</i> + don't worry. Saw my portmanteau and bag labelled at Victoria. + Sure to turn up in due time. Some men when they travel insist + on taking hand-bags into the carriage with them—foolish, + when they might have them put in the van and get rid of all + responsibility. The <i>douaniers</i> are examining the + luggage—don't see mine—as yet. It's all + <i>right</i>, of course. People who are going on to Brussels + and Antwerp at once would naturally have their luggage brought + out first. Don't see the good of rushing about like that + myself. I shall stay the night here—put up at one of the + hotels on the Digue, dine, and get through the evening + pleasantly at the Kursaal—sure to be <i>something</i> + going on. Then I can go comfortably on by a mid-day train + to-morrow. Meanwhile my luggage still tarries. If I was a + nervous man—luckily I'm <i>not</i>. Come—that's the + <i>bag</i> at all events, with everything I shall want for the + night.... Annoying. Some other fellow's bag.... No more luggage + being brought out. Getting anxious—at least, just a shade + uneasy. Perhaps if I asked somebody—Accost a Belgian + porter; he wants my baggage ticket. They never gave me any + ticket. It <i>did</i> occur to me (in the train) that I had + always had my luggage registered on going abroad before, but I + supposed <i>they</i> knew best, and didn't worry. I came away + to get a rest and avoid worry, and I <i>won't</i> worry.... The + Porter and I have gone on board to hunt for the things. They + aren't <i>there</i>. Left behind at Dover probably. Wire for + them at once. No idea how difficult it was to describe luggage + vividly and yet economically till I tried. However, it will be + sent on by the next boat, and arrive some time in the evening, + so it's of no consequence. Now for the Hotel. Ask for the bus + for the <i>Continental</i>. The <i>Continental</i> is not open + yet. Very well, the <i>Hôtel de la Plage</i>, then. Closed! All + the hotels facing the sea <i>are</i>, it seems. Sympathetic + Porter recommends one in the town, and promises to come and + tell me as soon as the luggage turns up.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:38%;"> + <a href="images/265.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/265.png" + alt="'Please, de tings!'" /></a>"Please, de tings!" + </div> + + <p><i>At the Hotel.</i>—Find, on getting out of the + omnibus, that the Hotel is being painted; entrance blocked by + ladders and pails. Squeeze past, and am received in the hall by + the Proprietress and a German Waiter. "Certainly they can give + me a room—my baggage shall be taken up immed—" Here + I have to explain that this is impracticable, as my baggage has + unfortunately been left behind. Think I see a change in their + manner at this. A stranger who comes abroad with nothing but a + stick and an umbrella cannot <i>expect</i> to inspire + confidence, I suppose. I remark to the Waiter that the luggage + is sure to follow me by the next boat, but it strikes even + myself that I do not bring this out with quite a sincere ring. + Not at all the manner of a man who possesses a real + portmanteau. I order dinner—the kind of dinner, I feel, + that a man who did not intend to pay for it <i>would</i> order. + I detect this impression in the Waiter's eye. If he dared, I + know he would suggest tea and a boiled egg as more seemly under + the circumstances.</p> + + <p><i>On the Digue.</i>—Thought, it being holiday time, + that there would be more gaiety; but Ostend just now perhaps a + little lacking in liveliness—hotels, villas, and even the + Kursaal all closely boarded up with lead-coloured shutters. + Only other person on Promenade a fisher-boy scrooping over the + tiles in <i>sabots</i>. I come to a glazed shelter, and find + the seats choked with drifting sand, and protected with barbed + wire. This depresses me. I did not want to sit down—but + the barbed wire <i>does</i> seem needlessly unkind. Walk along + the sand-dunes; must pass the time somehow till dinner, and the + arrival of my luggage. Wonder whether it really <i>was</i> + labelled "Ostend." Suppose the porter thought I said + "Rochester" ... in that case—I will <i>not</i> worry + about it like this. I will go back and see the town.</p> + + <p>I have; it is like a good many other foreign towns. I am + melancholy. I <i>can't</i> dismiss that miserable luggage from + my mind. To be alone in a foreign land, without so much as a + clean sock, is a distressing position for a sensitive person. + If I could only succeed in seeing a humorous element in it, it + would be <i>something</i>—but I can't. It is too forlorn + to be at all funny. And there is still an hour and a half to + get through before dinner!</p> + + <p>I have dined—in a small room, with a stove, a carved + buffet, and a portrait of the King of the BELGIANS; but my + spirits are still low. German Waiter dubious about me; + reserving his opinion for the present. He comes in with a touch + of new deference in his manner. "Please, a man from de shdation + for you." I go out—to find the sympathetic Porter. My + baggage has arrived? It has; it is at the Douane, waiting for + me. I am saved! I tell the Waiter, without elation, but with + what, I trust, is a calm dignity—the dignity of a man who + has been misunderstood, but would scorn to resent it.</p> + + <p><i>At the Station.</i>—I have accompanied the Porter + to the Terminus, such a pleasant helpful fellow, so + intelligent! The Ostend streets much less dull at night. Feel + relieved, in charity with all the world, now that my prodigal + portmanteau is safely reclaimed. Porter takes me into a large + luggage-room. Don't see my things just at first. "Your + baggage—<i>ere!</i>" says the Porter, proudly, and points + out a little drab valise with shiny black leather covers and + brass studs—the kind of thing a man goes a journey with + in a French Melodrama! He is quite hurt when I repudiate it + indignantly; he tries to convince me that it is mine—the + fool! There is no other baggage of any sort, and mine can't + possibly arrive now before to-morrow afternoon, if then. + Nothing for it but to go back, luggageless, to the + Hotel—and face that confounded Waiter.</p> + + <p>Walk about the streets. Somehow I don't feel quite up to + going back to the Hotel just yet. The shops, which are small + and rather dimly lighted, depress me. There is no theatre, nor + <i>café chantant</i> open apparently. If there were, I haven't + the heart for them to-night. Hear music from a small + <i>estaminet</i> in a back street; female voice, with fine + Cockney accent, is singing "<i>Oh, dem Golden Slippers!</i>" + Wonder where <i>my</i> slippers are!</p> + + <p><i>In my Bedroom.</i>—I have had to come back at last, + and get it over with the Waiter. If he felt <i>any</i> + surprise, I think it was to see me back at all. I have had to + ask him if he could get me some sleeping-things to pass the + night in. <i>And</i> a piece of soap. Humiliating, but + unavoidable. He promised, but he has not brought them. Probably + this last request has done for me, and he is now communicating + with the police....</p> + + <p>A tap at my door. "Please, de tings!" says the Waiter. I + have wronged him. He has brought me <i>such</i> a nightgown! + Never saw anything in the least like it before. It has flowers + embroidered all down the front and round the cuffs, and on + every button something is worked in tiny blue letters, which, + on inspection, turns out to be "Good-night." I don't quite know + why, but, in my present state, I find this strangely consoling, + and even touching—like a benediction. After all, he + <i>must</i> believe in me, or he would hardly confide his + purple and fine linen to me like this. Go to bed gorgeous, and + dream that my portmanteau, bag, and self-respect are all + restored to me by the afternoon boat.... There must be + something in dreams, for, oddly enough, this is exactly what + <i>does</i> happen.</p> + + <p>Next morning, at breakfast, I am handed a mysterious and, at + first sight, rather alarming telegram from the Station-master + at Dover. "Your bones will be sent on next boat." Suspect the + word in the original was "<i>boxes</i>." But they may call them + what they like, so long as I get them back again.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>"<i>The Campaign against the Jebus. Gallant Advance of the + British.</i>" Dear old Mrs. RAM wants to know "who is + commanding the British forces in the campaign against the + Jebus" (which she spells "Gibus")? <i>Mr. Punch</i> is glad to + inform his estimable correspondent that the principal officers + commanding in the Gibus Campaign are Generals WIDE-AWAKE, + BILLICOCK, JIMCROW, POTT, and BELTOPPER. Their strategical + movements are worthy of the First Nap.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>CONSIDERATE.—Arrangements are to be made for all + Standing Committees in future to sit at certain hours. "For + this relief, much thanks," as WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, M.P., + observed.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page266" + id="page266"></a>[pg 266]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/266.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/266.png" + alt="RECIPROCAL." /></a> + + <h3>RECIPROCAL.</h3> + + <p><i>Sporting Gentleman.</i> "WELL, SIR, I'M VERY PLEASED + TO HAVE MADE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE, AND HAD THE OPPORTUNITY OF + HEARING A CHURCHMAN'S VIEWS ON THE QUESTION OF TITHES. OF + COURSE, AS A COUNTRY LANDOWNER, I'M INTERESTED IN CHURCH + MATTERS, AND—"</p> + + <p><i>The Parson.</i> "QUITE SO—DELIGHTED, I'M SURE. + ER—BY THE BYE, COULD YOU TELL ME <i>WHAT'S WON + TO-DAY</i>?"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>THE BURIAL OF THE "BROAD-GAUGE."</h2> + + <h4>MAY 23, 1892.</h4> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>["Drivers of Broad-Gauge Engines wandering + disconsolately about with their engine-lamps in their + hands; followed by their firemen with pick and shovel over + their shoulder, waiting in anxious expectation of the time + when that new-fangled machine, a narrow-gauge engine, + should come down a day or two after."—<i>Times' + Special at Plymouth on Death of Broad Gauge.</i>]</p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Not a whistle was heard, not a brass bell-note,</p> + + <p class="i2">As his corse o'er the sleepers we + hurried;</p> + + <p>Not a fog-signal wailed from a husky throat</p> + + <p class="i2">O'er the grave where our "Broad-Gauge" we + buried.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>We buried him darkly, at dead of night,</p> + + <p class="i2">The sod with our pickaxes turning,</p> + + <p>By the danger-signal's ruddy light,</p> + + <p class="i2">And our oil-lamps dimly burning.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>No useless tears, though we loved him well!</p> + + <p class="i2">Long years to his fire-box had bound + us.</p> + + <p>We fancied we glimpsed the great shade of + BRUNEL,</p> + + <p class="i2">In sad sympathy hovering round us.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Few and gruff were the words we said,</p> + + <p class="i2">But we thought, with a natural + sorrow,</p> + + <p>Of the Narrow-Gauge foe of the Loco. just dead,</p> + + <p class="i2"><i>We</i> should have to attend on the + morrow.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>We thought, as we hollowed his big broad bed,</p> + + <p class="i2">And piled the brown earth o'er his + funnel,</p> + + <p>How his foe o'er the Great-Western metals would + tread,</p> + + <p class="i2">Shrieking triumph through cutting and + tunnel.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Lightly they'll talk of him now he is gone,</p> + + <p class="i2">For the cheap "Narrow Gauge" has + outstayed him,</p> + + <p>Yet BULL <i>might</i> have found, had he let it go + on,</p> + + <p class="i2">That BRUNEL's Big Idea would have paid + him!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But the battle is ended, our task is done;</p> + + <p class="i2">After forty years' fight he's + retiring.<a id="footnotetag1" + name="footnotetag1"></a><a href="#footnote1"><sup>1</sup></a></p> + + <p>This hour sees thy triumph, O STEPHENSON;</p> + + <p class="i2">Old "Broad Gauge" no more will need + firing.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The "Dutchman" must now be "divided in + two"!—</p> + + <p class="i2">Well, well, they shan't mangle or mess + <i>you</i>!</p> + + <p>Accept the last words of friends faithful, if + few:—</p> + + <p class="i2">"Good-bye, poor old Broad-Gauge, God + bless you!"<a id="footnotetag2" + name="footnotetag2"></a><a href="#footnote2"><sup>2</sup></a></p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Slowly and sadly we laid him down.</p> + + <p class="i2">He has filled a great chapter in + story.</p> + + <p>We sang not a dirge—we raised not a stone,</p> + + <p class="i2">But we left the "Broad Gauge" to his + glory!</p> + </div> + </div> + + <blockquote class="footnote"> + <a id="footnote1" + name="footnote1"></a><b>Footnote 1:</b> + <a href="#footnotetag1">(return)</a> + + <p>The Royal Commission appointed to inquire into the + uniformity of railway gauges, presented their report to + Parliament on May 30, 1846.</p> + </blockquote> + + <blockquote class="footnote"> + <a id="footnote2" + name="footnote2"></a><b>Footnote 2:</b> + <a href="#footnotetag2">(return)</a> + + <p>Words found written on one of the G.-W. rails.</p> + </blockquote> + <hr /> + + <h4>TO A DEAR YOUNG FEMININE FRIEND, WHO SPELT "WAGON" AS + "WAGGON."</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Bad spelling? Oh dear no! So tender, she</p> + + <p>Wished that the cart should have an extra + "<i>gee</i>."</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>KILLING NO MURDER.</h2> + + <h4>(<i>To the Editor of "Punch."</i>)</h4> + + <p>MY DEAR SIR,—I have just been reading with a great + deal of surprise "<i>The Life and Letters of Charles Samuel + Keene</i>, by GEORGE SOMES LAYARD." Seeing the name of one of + your colleagues as the first line of the "Index," I turned to + page 74 and looked him out. I found him mentioned in an account + given by Mr. M.H. SPIELMANN of the <i>Punch</i> Dinner, which + Mr. GEORGE SOMES LAYARD had extracted from <i>Black and + White</i>, no doubt to assist in making up his book. The + following is the quotation:—"The Editor, as I have said, + presides; should he be unavoidably absent, another + writer—usually, nowadays, Mr. ARTHUR + A'BECKETT—takes his place, the duty never falling to an + artist." Then, to show how thoroughly Mr. GEORGE SOMES LAYARD + is up to date, he adds to the name of Mr. ARTHUR A'BECKETT + (after the fashion of <i>Mr. Punch</i> in the drama disposing + of the clown or the beadle), "since dead." Now Mr. ARTHUR + A'BECKETT is not dead, but very much alive. Do you not think, + Sir, it would be better were gentlemen who write about yourself + and your colleagues, to verify their facts before they attempt + to give obituary notices, even if they be as brief as the one + in question?</p> + + <p class="author">Yours, truly,<br /> + MORE GAY THAN GRAVE.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>NEW AND APPROPRIATE NAME FOR MODERN PUGILISM.—The + "Nobble" Art.</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page267" + id="page267"></a>[pg 267]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/267.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/267.png" + alt="THE BURIAL OF THE 'BROAD-GAUGE.'" /></a> + + <h3>THE BURIAL OF THE "BROAD-GAUGE."</h3> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page268" + id="page268"></a>[pg 268]</span> + + <h2>STUDIES IN THE NEW POETRY.</h2> + + <p>The world is of course aware by this time that a New Poetry + has arisen, and has asserted itself by the mouths of many + loud-voiced "boomers." It has been <i>Mr. Punch's</i> good + fortune to secure several specimens of this new product, not + through the intervention of middle men, but from the + manufacturers themselves. He proposes to publish them for the + benefit and enlightenment of his readers. But first a word of + warning. There are perhaps some who believe that a poem should + not only express high and noble thoughts, or recount great + deeds, but that it should do so in verse that is musical, + cadenced, rhythmical, instinct with grace, and reserved rather + than boisterous. If any such there be, let them know at once + that they are hopelessly old-fashioned. The New Poetry in its + <i>highest</i> expression banishes form, regularity and rhythm, + and treats rhyme with unexampled barbarity. Here and there, it + is true, rhymes get paired off quite happily in the + conventional manner, but directly afterwards you may come upon + a poor weak little rhyme who will cry in vain for his mate + through half a dozen interloping lines. Indeed, cases have been + known of rhymes that have been left on a sort of desert island + of a verse, and have never been fetched away. And sometimes + when the lines have got chopped very short, the rhymes have + tumbled overboard altogether. That is really what is meant by + "impressionism" in poetry carried to its highest excellence. + There are, of course, other forms of the New Poetry. There is + the "blustering, hob-nailed" variety which clatters up and down + with immense noise, elbows you here, and kicks you there, and + if it finds a pardonable weakness strolling about in the middle + of the street, immediately knocks it down and tramples upon it. + Then too there is the "coarse, but manly" kind which swears by + the great god, Jingo, and keeps a large stock of spread eagles + always ready to swoop and tear without the least + provocation.</p> + + <p>However, <i>Mr. Punch</i> may as well let his specimens + speak for themselves. Here, then, is</p> + + <h3>No. I.—A GRAVESEND GREGORIAN.</h3> + + <h4>BY W.E. H-NL-Y. (<i>Con Brio.</i>)</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Deep in a murky hole,</p> + + <p>Cavernous, untransparent, fetid, dank,</p> + + <p>The demiurgus of the servants' hall,</p> + + <p>The scuttle-bearing buttons, boon and blank</p> + + <p>And grimy loads his evening load of coals,</p> + + <p>Filled with respect for the cook's and butler's + rank,</p> + + <p>Lo, the round cook half fills the hot retreat,</p> + + <p>Her kitchen, where the odours of the meat,</p> + + <p>The cabbage and sweets all merge as in a pall,</p> + + <p>The stale unsavoury remnants of the feast.</p> + + <p>Here, with abounding confluences of onion,</p> + + <p>Whose vastitudes of perfume tear the soul</p> + + <p>In wish of the not unpotatoed stew,</p> + + <p>They float and fade and flutter like morning + dew.</p> + + <p>And all the copper pots and pans in line,</p> + + <p>A burnished army of bright utensils, shine;</p> + + <p>And the stern butler heedless of his bunion</p> + + <p>Looks happy, and the tabby-cat of the house</p> + + <p>Forgets the elusive, but recurrent mouse</p> + + <p>And purrs and dreams;</p> + + <p>And in his corner the black-beetle seems</p> + + <p>A plumed Black Prince arrayed in gleaming mail;</p> + + <p>Whereat the shrinking scullery-maid grows pale,</p> + + <p>And flies for succour to THOMAS of the calves,</p> + + <p>Who, doing nought by halves,</p> + + <p>Circles a gallant arm about her waist,</p> + + <p>And takes unflinching the cheek-slap of the + chaste</p> + + <p>And giggling fair, nor counts his labour lost.</p> + + <p>Then, beer, beer, beer.</p> + + <p>Spume-headed, bitter, golden like the gold</p> + + <p>Buried by cutlassed pirates tempest-tossed,</p> + + <p>Red-capped, immitigable, over-bold</p> + + <p>With blood and rapine, spreaders of fire and + fear.</p> + + <p>The kitchen table</p> + + <p>Is figured with the ancient, circular stains</p> + + <p>Of the pint-pot's bottom; beer is all the go.</p> + + <p>And every soul in the servants' hall is able</p> + + <p>To drink his pint or hers until they grow</p> + + <p>Glorious with golden beer, and count as gains</p> + + <p>The glowing draughts that presage morning pains.</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:65%;"> + <a href="images/268.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/268.png" + alt="QUITE UNANSWERABLE." /></a> + + <h3>QUITE UNANSWERABLE.</h3><i>Ethel.</i> "MAMMY DEAR! WHY + DO YOU POWDER YOUR FACE, AND WHY DOES THOMAS POWDER HIS + HAIR? I DON'T DO EITHER!" + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>EPISCOPACY IN DANGER.—<i>Mr. Punch</i> congratulates + Dr. PEROWNE, Bishop of Worcester, on his narrow fire-escape + some days ago, when his lawn sleeves (a costume more + appropriate for a garden-party than a pulpit) caught fire. It + was extinguished by a bold Churchwarden. In future let + Churchwardens be prepared with hose whenever a prelate runs any + chance of ignition from his own "burning eloquence." If <i>Mr. + Punch's</i> advice as above is acted upon, a Bishop if "put + out" may probably mutter, "Darn your hose." But this can be + easily explained away.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>BETTER AND BETTER.—The Report last week about Sir + ARTHUR SULLIVAN was that "he hopes to go to the country + shortly." So do our political parties. Sir ARTHUR cannot + restrain himself from writing new and original music at a rapid + pace. This, is a consequence of his having taken so many + composing draughts.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>"OUR BOOKING OFFICE."—Not open this week, as the Baron + has been making a book. Interesting subject, "On the Derby and + Oaks." Being in sporting mood, the Baron adopts as his motto + King SOLOMON's words of wisdom, out of his (King SOLOMON's) own + mines of golden treasures,—"And of book-making there is + no end." He substitutes "book-making" for "making of books," + and with the poetic CAMPBELL (HERBERT of that ilk) he sings, + "it makes no difference."</p> + <hr /> + + <p>AFTER THE EVENT.—Last Sunday week was the one day in + the year when ancient Joe Millers were permissible. It was + "Chestnut Sunday." We didn't like to mention it before.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>The Royal General Theatrical Fund Dinner, held last + Thursday, will be remembered in the annals of the Stage as + "ALEXANDER's Feast."</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page269" + id="page269"></a>[pg 269]</span> + + <h2>HORACE IN LONDON. TO A COQUETTE. (AD PYRRHAM.)</h2> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:35%;"> + <a href="images/269-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/269-1.png" + alt="A coquette." /></a> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>What stripling, flowered and scent-bedewed,</p> + + <p>Now courts thee in what solitude?</p> + + <p>For whom dost thou in order set</p> + + <p>Thy tresses' aureole, Coquette.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>"Neat, but not gaudy"?—Soon Despond</p> + + <p>(Too soon!) at flouted faith and fond,</p> + + <p>Soon tempests halcyon tides above</p> + + <p>Shall wreck this raw recruit of Love;</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Who counts for gold each tinsel whim,</p> + + <p>And hopes thee always all for him,</p> + + <p>And trusts thee, smiling, spite of doom</p> + + <p>And traitorous breezes! Hapless, whom</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Thy glamour holds untried. For me,</p> + + <p>I've dared enough that fitful sea;</p> + + <p>Its "breach of promise" grim hath curst</p> + + <p>Both purse and person with its worst.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>My "dripping weeds" are doffed; and I</p> + + <p>Sit "landed," like my wine, and "dry;"</p> + + <p>What "weeds" survive I smoke, and rub</p> + + <p>My hands in harbour at my Club!</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>OPERATIC NOTES.</h2> + + <p><i>Monday.</i>—<i>L'Amico Fritz</i> at last! Better + late than never. A Dramatic Operatic Idyl. "Nothing in it," as + <i>Sir Charles Coldstream</i> observes, except the music, the + singing, and the acting of Signor DE LUCIA as <i>Fritz</i> Our + Friend, of M. DUFRICHE as the <i>Rabbi</i> of Mlle. GIULIA + RAVOGLI as <i>Boy Beppe</i>, of Mlle. BAUERMEISTER as + <i>Caterina</i>, and of Madame CALVÉ as <i>Suzel</i>. Not an + indifferent performer or singer among them, and not an + individual in the audience indifferent to their performance. + Cherry-Tree Duet, between <i>Suzel</i> and <i>Fritz</i>, great + hit. Admirably sung and acted, and vociferously encored. Nay, + they would have had it three times if they could, but though + Sir DRURIOLANUS sets his face against encores, allowing not too + much encore but just encore enough, he, as an astute Manager, + cannot see why persons who have paid to hear a thing only once + should hear it three times for the same money. No; if they like + it so much that they want it again, and must have it, and won't + be happy till they get it, then let them encore their own + performance of paying for their seats, and come and hear their + favourite <i>morçeaux</i> over and over again as often as they + like to pay. He will grant one encore no more. Sir DRURIOLANUS + is right. Do we insist on Mr. IRVING giving us "To be or not to + be," or any other soliloquy, all over again, simply because he + has done it once so well? Do we ask Mr. J.L. TOOLE to repeat + his author's good jokes—or his own when his author has + failed him? No; we applaud to the echo, we laugh till, as Mr. + CHEVALIER says, "we thort we should ha' died," but we don't + encore the comic jokes, telling situations, or serious + soliloquies as rendered by our accomplished histrions.</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/269-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/269-2.png" + alt="The Rabbinical-Hat-Beer-Jug." /></a>The + Rabbinical-Hat-Beer-Jug. + </div> + + <p>Were a collection of pictures made of Mlle. BAUERMEISTER in + different characters, it would, for interest and variety, + become a formidable rival of the CHARLES MATHEWS series now in + the possession of the Garrick Club. To-night she is the busy, + bustling <i>Caterina</i>, <i>Friend Fritz's</i> housekeeper, + who, as she has to provide all the food for their breakfast, + and set it on the table, might be distinguished as <i>Catering + Caterina</i>. No one now cares to see an Opera without Mlle. + BAUERMEISTER in it, whether she appear as a dashing lady of the + Court, probably in a riding-habit, or as a middle-class German + housekeeper, or as Cupid God of Love, or as <i>Juliet's</i> + ancient nurse, or as an impudent waiting-maid, or as an unhappy + mother, or as,—well,—any number of characters that + I cannot now recall, but all done excellently well. Never have + I heard of her being either "sick or sorry." Some few seasons + ago I drew public attention to this most useful and ornamental + <i>artiste</i>, and now I am glad to see that here and there a + critic has awoke to the fact of her existence, and has done her + tardy justice. Long may the Bauermeistersinger be able to give + her valuable assistance, without which no Covent Garden Opera + Company could possibly be perfect.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:45%;"> + <a href="images/269-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/269-3.png" + alt="Bob-Cherry Duet." /></a>Bob-Cherry Duet. + </div> + + <p>As to <i>L'Amico Fritz</i>, I should suggest that it be + played in one Scene and two Acts. That this one Scene should be + the Exterior of Cherry-Tree Farm (which should be + <i>Fritz's</i>, not the <i>Rabbi's</i>) and that instead of + lowering the Curtain, the <i>intermezzo</i>—not I venture + to opine equal to the marvellous <i>intermezzo</i> in + <i>Cavalleria Rusticana</i>—should be played. + <i>L'Amico</i> is certain of an encore, and this will give the + singers a rest. It could then commence at nine—a more + convenient hour to those who would like to hear every note of + it, than 8:15, and it would be over by eleven sharp. A nod is + as good as a wink to Sir DRURIOLANUS, but all the same, Heaven + forefend I should be guilty of either indiscretion in the + Imperial Operatorial presence. Thus much at present.</p> + + <p><i>Friday.</i>—"It's the smiles of its AUGUSTUS and + the heat of its July"—adapted quotation from "Old Song." + "I cannot sing the old song"—except under a sense of the + deepest and most unpardonable provocation; and when I + do!!—<i>Cave canem, ruat coelum!</i> I bring down the + house as Madame DELILAH's SAMSON did. To-night <i>Manon</i> is + indeed warmly welcomed. "A nice Opera," says a young lady, + fanning herself. "I wish it were an iced Opera," groans + WAGSTAFF, re-issuing one of his earliest side-splitters. M. VAN + DYCK strong as the weak <i>Des Grieux</i>, but Madame MRAVINA + apparently not strong enough. "What made author-chap think of + calling her <i>Manon</i>?" asks languid person in Stalls. + WAGSTAFF, revived after an iced B.-and-S., is equal to the + occasion. "Such a bad lot, you know—regular man-catcher; + hooked a <i>man on</i>, then, when he was done with, hooked + another man on. Reason for name evident, see?" The + <i>Cavalleria Rusticana</i> is the favourite for Derby Night. + All right up to now, Sir DRURIOLANUS.</p> + <hr /> + + <p>TENNER SONG FOR DERBY DAY.—"<i>He's got it + on!</i>"</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page270" + id="page270"></a>[pg 270]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/270.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/270.png" + alt="WHAT OUR ARTIST (THE SMALL AND SUSCEPTIBLE ONE) HAS TO PUT UP WITH." /> + </a> + + <h3>WHAT OUR ARTIST (THE SMALL AND SUSCEPTIBLE ONE) HAS TO + PUT UP WITH.</h3> + + <p><i>Miss Binks.</i> "PRAY, MR. TITMOUSE, WHY DO YOU + ALWAYS DRAW SUCH IMMENSELY TALL WOMEN?"</p> + + <p><i>Our Artist.</i> "WELL, MISS BINKS, I SUPPOSE IT'S + BECAUSE I'M SUCH A TINY LITTLE MAN MYSELF. CONTRAST, YOU + SEE!"</p> + + <p><i>Miss Binks.</i> "AH, YES, CONTRAST! THAT IS HOW WE + TINY LITTLE WOMEN ALWAYS ATTRACT ALL THE FINE TALL MEN! + THAT'S HOW <i>WE</i> SCORE!"</p> + + <p><i>Our Artist.</i> "EXACTLY. I ONLY WISH TO GOODNESS + YOU'D ATTRACT THAT VERY FINE TALL MAN AWAY FROM MISS + JONES—THEN <i>I</i> MIGHT HAVE A CHANCE, + PERHAPS!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>A VERY "DARK HORSE."</h2> + + <blockquote class="note"> + <p>["The Country knows ... what it is we desire to do. What + the Right Hon. Gentleman (Mr. GLADSTONE) desires to do no + human being knows. If we have done our part, as we have + done, to clear the issues, all we can ask him is to do his + part, to lay before the electorate of this country in the + same plain, unmistakable outline, the policy which he + desires to see adopted."—<i>Mr. Balfour on Second + Reading of Irish Local Government Bill.</i>]</p> + </blockquote> + + <blockquote> + <p>SCENE—<i>The Paddock, before the Great Race. + Rising Young Jockey</i>, ARTHUR BALFOUR, <i>mounted on the + Crack Irish Horse. Enter Grand Old Jockey, at the moment + minus a mount.</i></p> + </blockquote> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Grand Old Jockey</i> (<i>aside</i>). Humph! Don't + look so bad, now, despite the dead set</p> + + <p class="i4">That against him we've made since his very + first running,</p> + + <p class="i2">Do they mean him to win after all? Artful + set,</p> + + <p class="i4">That Stable! It strikes me they've been + playing cunning.</p> + + <p class="i2">One wouldn't have backed him, first off, for + a bob.</p> + + <p class="i4">His owner concerning him scarcely seemed + caring.</p> + + <p class="i2">Eugh! No one supposed he was fair "on the + job";</p> + + <p class="i4">A mere trial-horse, simply "out for an + airing."</p> + + <p class="i2">When he first stripped in public he looked + such a screw,</p> + + <p class="i4">He was hailed with a general chorus of + laughter;</p> + + <p class="i2">Young BAL seemed abashed at the general + yahboo!</p> + + <p class="i4">And pooh-poohed his new mount! What the doose + is he after?</p> + + <p class="i2">I'm bound to admit the Horse <i>looks</i> + pretty fit,</p> + + <p class="i4">And the boy sits him well, and as though he + meant <i>trying</i>.</p> + + <p class="i2">I say, this won't do! I must bounce him a + bit.</p> + + <p class="i4">Most awkward, you know, if his "slug" takes + to <i>flying</i>!</p> + + <p><i>Rising Young Jockey</i> (<i>aside</i>). Hillo! + There's Old WILLIAM! He's out on the scoot.</p> + + <p class="i4">The artful Old Hand! Hope he'll like what he + looks on!</p> + + <p class="i2">He slated this nag as a peacocky brute,</p> + + <p class="i4">Whose utter collapse they've been building + their books on.</p> + + <p class="i2">How now, my spry veteran? Only a boy</p> + + <p class="i4">On a three-legged crock? Well, I own you are + older,</p> + + <p class="i2">And watching your riding's a thing to + enjoy;</p> + + <p class="i4">There isn't a Jock who is defter <i>and</i> + bolder;</p> + + <p class="i2">Your power, authority, + eloquence—yes,</p> + + <p class="i4">For your gift of the gab is a + caution—are splendid;</p> + + <p class="i2">But—the youngster <i>may</i> teach you + a lesson, I guess,</p> + + <p class="i4">As to judgment of pace ere the contest is + ended.</p> + + <p><i>Grand Old Jockey</i> (<i>aloud</i>). Well, ARTHUR my + lad, in the saddle again!</p> + + <p class="i4">Is <i>that</i> your crack mount?</p> + + <p><i>Rising Young Jockey.</i> The identical one, WILL.</p> + + <p><i>Grand Old Jockey.</i> Dear, dear, what a pity! It + quite gives me pain</p> + + <p class="i4">To see you so wasted.</p> + + <p><i>Rising Young Jockey.</i> That's only your fun, + WILL.</p> + + <p><i>Grand Old Jockey.</i> Nay, nay, not at all! Don't + think much of his points.</p> + + <p class="i4">He's not bred like a true-blood, nor built + like a winner.</p> + + <p class="i2">Not well put together, so coarse in his + joints,</p> + + <p class="i4">In fact—only fit for a hunting-pack's + dinner!</p> + + <p><i>Rising Young Jockey</i> (<i>laughing</i>). Oh! + "Cat's-meat!" is your cry, is it, WILLIAM? Well, well!</p> + + <p class="i4">We shall see about that when the + winning-post's handy.</p> + + <p><i>Grand Old Jockey.</i> <i>You</i> won't, my brave boy; + that a novice could tell.</p> + + <p class="i4">You'll be left in the ruck at the end, my + young dandy,</p> + + <p><i>Rising Young Jockey.</i> Perhaps! Still the + pencillers haven't,—as yet—</p> + + <p class="i4">Quite knocked the nag out with their furious + fever</p> + + <p class="i2">Of hot opposition. Some cool ones still + bet</p> + + <p class="i4">On his chance of a win.</p> + + <p><i>Grand Old Jockey</i> (<i>contemptuously</i>). Ah, + you're wonderful clever.</p> + + <p class="i2">But we have got one in <i>our</i> Stable, my + lad,</p> + + <p class="i4">Who can—just lick his head off!</p> + + <p><i>Rising Young Jockey</i> (<i>drily</i>). Now have you + indeed, WILL?</p> + + <p class="i2">I fancy I've heard that before. Very glad</p> + + <p class="i4">That your lot are in luck; and I hope you'll + succeed, WILL,</p> + + <p class="i2">But bless me! yours seems such a <i>very</i> + Dark Horse!</p> + + <p class="i4">Oh! there, don't fire up so! Your word I + won't doubt, WILL.</p> + + <p class="i2">You say so, and one must believe you, of + course;</p> + + <p class="i4">But—<i>isn't</i> it time that you + <i>brought the nag out</i>, WILL?</p> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page271" + id="page271"></a>[pg 271]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/271.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/271.png" + alt="A VERY 'DARK HORSE.'" /></a> + + <h3>A VERY "DARK HORSE."</h3> + + <p>OLD JOCKEY. "DON'T THINK MUCH OF HIS POINTS! WE'VE ONE + IN OUR STABLE CAN LICK HIS HEAD OFF!"</p> + + <p>YOUNG JOCKEY. "<i>HAVE</i> YOU? THEN WHY DON'T YOU + <i>BRING HIM OUT</i>?"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page273" + id="page273"></a>[pg 273]</span> + + <h2>HISTORY AS SHE IS PLAYED!</h2> + + <div class="drama"> + <p><i>Questioner.</i> Why should M.V. SARDOU be called the + Historian of the French Revolution?</p> + + <p><i>Answerer.</i> Because in <i>Thermidor</i> he has + given an entirely new version of the "Reign of Terror."</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> Was the "Reign of Terror" very terrible?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> Not very. At the Opéra Comique it had its + comic side.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> How was that?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> For instance, <i>les tricoteuses</i> were + represented by comely, albeit plump maidens, who seemed + more inclined to dance round a Maypole than haunt a + scaffold.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> Were ROBESPIERRE, ST. JUST, and the rest, + cruel and vindictive?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> I should say not; and I found my conclusion on + the fact that they engaged an actor given to practical + joking as an officer of the Public Security.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> From this, do you take it that ROBESPIERRE + must have had a subtle sense of humour?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> I do; and the impression is strengthened by + his order for a general slaughter of Ursuline Nuns.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> Why should he order such a massacre?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> To catch the heroine of <i>Thermidor</i>, a + lady who had taken the vows under the impression that her + lover had been killed by the enemy.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> Had her lover been killed?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> Certainly not; he had preferred to + surrender.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> Can you give me any idea of the component part + of a revolutionary crowd?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> At the Opéra Comique, a revolutionary crowd + seems to consist of a number of mournful loungers, who have + nothing to do save to take a languid interest in the fate + of a tearful maiden, and a few <i>gens d'armes</i> a little + uncertain about their parade-ground.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> How do the mournful loungers express their + interest in the fate of the tearful maiden?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> By pointing her out one to another, and when + she is ordered off to execution removing their hats, and + fixing I their attention on something concealed behind the + scenes.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> What is your present idea of the Reign of + Terror?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> My present idea of the Reign of Terror is, + that it was the mildest thing imaginable. In my opinion, + not even a child in arms would have been frightened at + it.</p> + + <p><i>Q.</i> Do you not consider M. MAYER deserving of + honour?</p> + + <p><i>A.</i> Certainly I do. For has he not removed (with + the assistance of M. SARDOU and the Opéra Comique) several + fond illusions of my youth?</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:60%;"> + <a href="images/273-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/273-1.png" + alt="NATURE V. ART." /></a> + + <h3>NATURE V. ART.</h3> + + <p><i>Æsthetic Friend.</i> "YES, THIS ROOM'S RATHER NICE, + ALL BUT THE WINDOW, WITH THESE LARGE BLANK PANES OF + PLATE-GLASS! I SHOULD LIKE TO SEE SOME SORT OF PATTERN ON + THEM—LITTLE SQUARES OR LOZENGES OR + ARABESQUES—"</p> + + <p><i>Philistine.</i> "WELL, BUT THOSE LOVELY CHERRY + BLOSSOMS, AND THE LAKE, AND THE DISTANT MOUNTAIN, AND THE + BEAUTIFUL SUNSETS, AND THE PURPLE CLOUDS—ISN'T THAT + PATTERN ENOUGH?"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>THE MORNING OF THE DERBY.—<i>Hamlet</i> considering + whether he shall go to Epsom for the great race or not, + soliloquises, "Der-<i>be</i> or not Der-<i>be</i>, that is the + question." [N.B.—As to the other lines, go as you please. + "The rest is silence."]</p> + <hr /> + + <p>"MARRIED AND SINGLE" should be played by Lady-Cricketers. No + single young person under seventeen should be permitted an + innings, as any two sweet sixteens would be "not out," and + there would be no chance for the other side. Match-makers are + only interested in the Single.</p> + <hr /> + + <h2>LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS.</h2> + + <p>DEAR MR. PUNCH,—For the first time have I seen myself + in print!—and I must say I think it very + becoming—and so nice and cool too this hot weather! You + are indeed a sweet creature for adopting my idea so + readily—and I really must say that if these obstinate + Members of Parliament who oppose Women's Suffrage would only + alter their views, it would be much better for the + Country—or worse—I don't know which!</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/273-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/273-2.png" + alt="" /></a> + </div> + + <p>Sir MINTING BLOUNDELL, whose criticism on my contribution to + your well-written journal I invited, complimented me on my + style, and suggested that when giving my selections it might be + as well to refer to the "Home Trials" of the horses + mentioned—but I venture to disagree with him! Goodness + knows we all have home trials enough! (Lord ARTHUR and I + frequently do not speak for a week unless someone is + present)—but I do not think these things should be made + public, and besides, it is an unwritten law amongst "smart" + people to avoid subjects that "chafe"—which sounds like + an anachronism—whatever that means! Having an opportunity + of a "last word" on the Derby, I should like to say that, + although my confidence in my last week's selection, <i>La + Flêche</i>, is unshaken, I wish to have a second "arrow" to my + bow in <i>Llanthony</i>—of whom a very keen judge of + racing (Lord BOURNEMOUTH to wit) has formed the opinion + that—in his own words—"he will be on the premises"! + The premises in question being Epsom Downs, there will + undoubtedly be room for him without his filling an + unnecessarily prominent position, so I will couple + <i>Llanthony</i> with <i>La Flêche</i> to supply the probable + last in the Derby.</p> + + <p>Meanwhile, I must say a word or two about the Ladies' Race + at Epsom on Friday next. There is absolutely no knowing what + will start for the Oaks nowadays until the numbers go + up—and no Turf Prophet will venture a selection until the + morning of the race—and <i>this</i> is where the + perspicuity of an Editor like yourself, <i>Mr. Punch</i>, + scores a distinct hit—for such a paltry consideration as + "knowing nothing about it" is not likely to daunt a woman who + takes as her motto the well-known line from SHAKSPEARE: "Thus + Angels rush where Cowards fear to tread!"—so herewith I + confidently append my verse selection for the last Mare in the + Oaks!</p> + + <p class="author">Yours devotedly,<br /> + LADY GAY.</p> + + <h4>THE TIP.</h4> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>'Tis the voice of the Sluggard, I hear him + complain,</p> + + <p class="i2">You have waked me too soon—an + unpleasant surprise!</p> + + <p>In an hour or so later pray call me again,</p> + + <p class="i2">When, if feeling refreshed, I will + straightway "<i>Arise!</i>"</p> + </div> + </div> + <hr /> + + <p>QUITE IN KEEPING.—The Earl of DYSART has left the + ranks of the Liberal Unionists and become a Gladstonian + Home-Ruler. "What more natural?" asked one of his former + Unionist friends. "Of course he's dysarted us!"</p> + <hr /> + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page274" + id="page274"></a>[pg 274]</span> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/274-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/274-1.png" + alt="A MISUNDERSTANDING." /></a> + + <h3>A MISUNDERSTANDING.</h3> + + <p><i>He.</i> "OH, IF I'D ONLY BEEN A 'BEAR'!"</p> + + <p><i>She.</i> "IF YOU HAD BEEN, YOU COULDN'T GROWL WORSE + THAN YOU DO!"</p> + </div> + <hr /> + + <h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + + <h3>EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</h3> + + <p><i>House of Commons, Monday, May 23.</i>—REDMOND, + Junior, said really funny thing just now. Rising to take part + in resumed Debate on Irish Local Government Bill, he announced + in loud angry tone that it would be waste of time to discuss a + Bill the Government evidently did not intend to press through + this Session, and he for one would be no party to such a farce. + Then he went on to talk for half an hour.</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/274-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/274-2.png" + alt="'Joe!'" /></a>"Joe!" + </div> + + <p>Debate on the whole something better than last week's + contribution. O'BRIEN delivered himself of glowing denunciation + full of felicitous phrases, all got through in half an hour. + CHAMBERLAIN followed; has not yet got over startling novelty of + his interposition in Debate being welcomed by loud cheers from + Conservatives; thinks of old Aston-Park days, when the cheering + was, as WEBSTER (not Attorney-General) says, "on the other + boot." Now, when JOSEPH gets up to demolish his Brethren + sitting near, Conservatives opposite settle themselves down + with the peculiar rustling motion with which a congregation in + crowded church or chapel arrange themselves to listen to a + favourite preacher. Pretty to watch them as CHAMBERLAIN goes + forward with his speech, delighting them with surprise to find + how much better is their position than they thought when it was + recommended or extolled from their own side. JOSEPH not nearly + so acrimonious to-night as sometimes. Still, as usual, his + speech chiefly directed to his former Brethren who sit + attentive, thinking occasionally with regret of the fatal + shallowness of the pit, and the absence of arrangement for + hermetically sealing it. If only—But that is another + story. COURTNEY at end of Bench is thinking of still another, + which has the rare charm of being true. It befel at a quiet + dinner where JOSEPH, finding himself in contiguity with + Chairman of Committees, took opportunity of rebuking him for + his alleged laxity in repressing disorder.</p> + + <div class="figright" + style="width:20%;"> + <a href="images/274-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/274-3.png" + alt="The Fighting Colonel." /></a>The Fighting + Colonel. + </div> + + <p>"I should like to know," he asked, "whether, supposing I + were to fire a pistol across the House, you would call it a + breach of order."</p> + + <p>"I don't think, CHAMBERLAIN," said Prince ARTHUR, who was + sitting at the other side of the table, "that if you were going + to fire a pistol in the Commons, you would point it across the + House." TIM HEALY just back from Dublin, where he's been + appearing in his favourite character of pacificator; followed + CHAMBERLAIN, and later came SAUNDERSON. But even he suffered + from prevailing tone of dulness, and WILFRID LAWSON, fast + asleep in the corner by Cross Benches, did not miss much. + <i>Business done.</i>—More talk on Local Government + Bill.</p> + + <p><i>Tuesday.</i>—If anyone looking on at House of + Commons at three o'clock this afternoon had predicted that + within an hour it would be teeming with life, brimming over + with human interest, he would have been looked upon with cold + suspicion. NOLAN had taken the floor, and was understood to be + expressing his deliberate opinion on merits of Irish Local + Government Bill. He was certainly saying something, but what it + might be no man could tell. LYON PLAYFAIR, who is up in all + kinds of statistics, tells me 120 words per minute is the + average utterance of articulate speech. NOLAN was doing his + 300, and sometimes exceeded that rate. Not a comma in a column + of it. A humming-top on the subject would have been precisely + as instructive and convincing. Some twenty Members sat there + fascinated by the performance. It was not delivered in a + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page275" + id="page275"></a>[pg 275]</span> monotone, in which case one + could have slept. NOLAN was evidently arguing in incisive + manner, shirking no obstacle, avoiding no point in the Bill, + or any hit made by previous speaker. His voice rose and fell + with convincing modulation. He seemed to be always dropping + into an aside, which led him into another, that opened a + sort of Clapham Junction of converging points. One after the + other, the Colonel, with full steam up, ran along; when he + reached terminus of siding, racing back at sixty miles an + hour; and so up and down another. Only guessed this from + modulation of his voice and the intelligent nodding of the + head with which he compelled the attention of + ATTORNEY-GENERAL for IRELAND. For just over half an hour he + kept up this pace, and, saving a trot for the avenue, fell + back into his seat gasping for breath, having concluded a + sentence nine hundred words long worked off in three minutes + by the astonished clock.</p> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:100%;"> + <a href="images/275.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/275.png" + alt="THE GLADSTONIAN BAGMAN." /></a> + + <h3>THE GLADSTONIAN BAGMAN.</h3>["I regard myself as a + commercial traveller."—<i>Speech by Sir William + Harcourt at Bristol, May</i> 11, 1892.] + </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page276" + id="page276"></a>[pg 276]</span> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:28%;"> + <a href="images/276-1.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/276-1.png" + alt="'T.W.'" /></a>"T.W." + </div> + + <p>An interval of T.W. RUSSELL, with one of his + adroitly-argued, lucidly-arranged speeches. Then Mr. G. and + transformation scene. House filled up as if by magic. In ten + minutes not a seat vacant on floor; Members running into Side + Gallery, nimbly hopping over Benches, to get on front line so + as to watch as well as hear the last and the greatest of the + old Parliamentarians. As suddenly and swiftly as the House had + filled, the limp lay figure of the Debate throbbed with life. + Scene of the kind witnessed only once or twice in Session. Six + hundred pair of eyes all turned eagerly upon figure standing at + Table, denouncing with uplifted arm, and voice ringing with + indignation, the iniquities of the MARKISS, safely absent, and + of his nephew, Prince ARTHUR, serenely present.</p> + + <p>A great speech; an achievement which, if it stood alone, + sufficient to make a reputation. And yet, when result of + Division announced, it was found that majority of an iniquitous + Government had run up to 92!</p> + + <p>Everyone delighted to hear the interesting news from 27, St. + James's Place, which gives an heir to the Spencer Earldom, and + has spread a feeling of joy and contentment throughout Althorpe + and Mid-Northamptonshire. The latest news, brought down just + now by MARJORIBANKS, is "BOBBY is doing as well as can be + expected." <i>Business done.</i>—Irish Local Government + Bill read Second Time, by 339 votes against 247.</p> + + <p><i>Wednesday.</i>—Hail! Sir HENRY WIGGIN, Bart, M.P.; + B.B.K., as ARTHUR ORTON called himself when resident in the + wilds of Australia, and explained that the style imported + Baronet of the British Kingdom. <i>Now</i> we know what was the + meaning of that foray upon the House the other day, when, with + the Chairman in the Chair, and Committee fully constituted, the + waggish WIGGIN walked adown the House, with his hat cocked on + one side of his head, in defiance of Parliamentary etiquette. + The Birthday Gazette was even then being drafted, and to-day + the wanton WIGGIN is Sir HENRY, Baronet of the United Kingdom. + <i>Not</i> a more popular announcement in the list. An honest, + kindly, shrewd WIGGIN it is, with a face whose genial smile all + people, warming under it, instinctively return.</p> + + <p><i>Business done.</i>—WIGGIN made B.B.K.</p> + + <p><i>Thursday.</i>—Quite a long time reaching Vote on + Account; two hours taken for discussion of Birmingham Water + Bill; Gentlemen in Radical camp much exercised about size of + fish in streams annexed for purposes of Birmingham water + supply. CHAMBERLAIN, who has charge of Bill, says he never + caught one longer than two inches. DILLWYN protests that + fishing in same waters he rarely caught one less than a pound + weight. Evidently a mistake somewhere. House perplexed, finally + passed Bill through Committee.</p> + + <div class="figleft" + style="width:27%;"> + <a href="images/276-2.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/276-2.png" + alt="The Noble Baron." /></a>The Noble Baron. + </div> + + <p>Then Rev. SAM SMITH wants to know more about Polynesian + Labour Traffic. The NOBLE BARON who has charge of Colonial + affairs in Commons, whilst controverting all his statements, + says "everyone must admit that the Hon. Member has spoken from + his heart." "Which," NOVAR says, "it reminds me of the couplet + <i>Joe Gargery</i> meant to put on the tombstone of his + lamented father, 'What-sume'er the failings on his part, + Remember, reader, he were that good in his hart.'"</p> + + <p>At length in Committee of Supply; Vote on Account moved; Mr. + G. on his feet wanting to know you know; doesn't once mention + the Dissolution; but puts it to Prince ARTHUR whether, really, + the time hasn't come when House should learn something with + respect to intentions of Government touching finance, their + principal Bills, and, in short, "so far foreshadowing the + probable termination of the Session?" Wouldn't on any account + hurry him; any day he likes will do; only getting time + something should be said. Prince ARTHUR, gratefully + acknowledging Mr. G.'s kind way of putting it, agreed with his + view. Some day he will tell us something; to-day he will say + nothing. A pretty bit of by-play; excellently done by both + leading Gentlemen; perfectly understood by laughing House.</p> + + <p><i>Business done.</i>—Shadow of Dissolution gathering + close.</p> + + <p><i>Friday.</i>—I see TAY PAY, in the interesting + Sunday journal he admirably edits, reproaches me because, in + this particular page of history, "Mr. SEXTON," he says, "is + derided constantly and shamefully." <i>Anglicè</i>: + Occasionally when, in a faithful record of Parliamentary + events, SEXTON's part in the proceedings must needs be noticed, + it is gently hinted that among his many admirable qualities + terseness of diction is not prominent. In fact he has been + sometimes alluded to by the playful prefix WINDBAG. If TAY PAY + had been content to administer reproof, it would have been + well. But he goes on to discuss SEXTON's parliamentary style, + and comes to this conclusion:—"Mr. SEXTON's one fault as + a speaker is that he does not proportion his observations + sufficiently at certain stages in his speeches; and that + preparation sometimes has the effect of tempting him to + over-elaboration." If TAY PAY likes to put it that way, no one + can object. Only, space in this journal being more valuable, + the same thing is said in a single word.</p> + + <p><i>Business done.</i>—Small Holdings Bill sent on to + the Lords.</p> + <hr /> + + <div class="figcenter" + style="width:68%;"> + <a href="images/276-3.png"><img width="100%" + src="images/276-3.png" + alt="OVERHEARD AT EARL'S COURT." /></a> + + <h3>OVERHEARD AT EARL'S COURT.</h3> + + <p><i>Old Buffer.</i> "UGH! I'M TIRED TO DEATH OF BEING + HUNTED! BLESSED IF I'LL RUN AWAY FROM THOSE BLANK + CARTRIDGES AGAIN!"</p> + + <p><i>Broncho.</i> "YES, YOU BET! AND I'VE MADE UP MY MIND + TO QUIT BUCKING. IT'S PERFECTLY SICKENING HAVING TO DO IT + FROM YEAR'S END TO YEAR'S END!"</p> + </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, Vol. +102, June 4, 1892, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 14652-h.htm or 14652-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/6/5/14652/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 102, June 4, 1892 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 10, 2005 [EBook #14652] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the PG Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +PUNCH, + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 102. + + + +June 4, 1892. + + + + +LOST LUGGAGE. + +(_OR THE EXPERIENCES OF A "VACUUS VIATOR."_) + +_At the Douane, Ostend._--Just off _Princesse Henriette_; passengers +hovering about excitedly with bunches of keys, waiting for their +luggage to be brought ashore. Why can't they take things quietly--like +_me_? _I_ don't worry. Saw my portmanteau and bag labelled at +Victoria. Sure to turn up in due time. Some men when they travel +insist on taking hand-bags into the carriage with them--foolish, when +they might have them put in the van and get rid of all responsibility. +The _douaniers_ are examining the luggage--don't see mine--as yet. +It's all _right_, of course. People who are going on to Brussels and +Antwerp at once would naturally have their luggage brought out first. +Don't see the good of rushing about like that myself. I shall stay the +night here--put up at one of the hotels on the Digue, dine, and get +through the evening pleasantly at the Kursaal--sure to be _something_ +going on. Then I can go comfortably on by a mid-day train to-morrow. +Meanwhile my luggage still tarries. If I was a nervous man--luckily +I'm _not_. Come--that's the _bag_ at all events, with everything I +shall want for the night.... Annoying. Some other fellow's bag.... +No more luggage being brought out. Getting anxious--at least, just a +shade uneasy. Perhaps if I asked somebody--Accost a Belgian porter; +he wants my baggage ticket. They never gave me any ticket. It _did_ +occur to me (in the train) that I had always had my luggage registered +on going abroad before, but I supposed _they_ knew best, and didn't +worry. I came away to get a rest and avoid worry, and I _won't_ +worry.... The Porter and I have gone on board to hunt for the things. +They aren't _there_. Left behind at Dover probably. Wire for them at +once. No idea how difficult it was to describe luggage vividly and +yet economically till I tried. However, it will be sent on by the next +boat, and arrive some time in the evening, so it's of no consequence. +Now for the Hotel. Ask for the bus for the _Continental_. The +_Continental_ is not open yet. Very well, the _Hotel de la Plage_, +then. Closed! All the hotels facing the sea _are_, it seems. +Sympathetic Porter recommends one in the town, and promises to come +and tell me as soon as the luggage turns up. + +[Illustration: "Please, de tings!"] + +_At the Hotel._--Find, on getting out of the omnibus, that the Hotel +is being painted; entrance blocked by ladders and pails. Squeeze past, +and am received in the hall by the Proprietress and a German Waiter. +"Certainly they can give me a room--my baggage shall be taken up +immed--" Here I have to explain that this is impracticable, as my +baggage has unfortunately been left behind. Think I see a change in +their manner at this. A stranger who comes abroad with nothing but +a stick and an umbrella cannot _expect_ to inspire confidence, I +suppose. I remark to the Waiter that the luggage is sure to follow me +by the next boat, but it strikes even myself that I do not bring this +out with quite a sincere ring. Not at all the manner of a man who +possesses a real portmanteau. I order dinner--the kind of dinner, +I feel, that a man who did not intend to pay for it _would_ order. +I detect this impression in the Waiter's eye. If he dared, I know +he would suggest tea and a boiled egg as more seemly under the +circumstances. + +_On the Digue._--Thought, it being holiday time, that there would +be more gaiety; but Ostend just now perhaps a little lacking in +liveliness--hotels, villas, and even the Kursaal all closely boarded +up with lead-coloured shutters. Only other person on Promenade a +fisher-boy scrooping over the tiles in _sabots_. I come to a glazed +shelter, and find the seats choked with drifting sand, and protected +with barbed wire. This depresses me. I did not want to sit down--but +the barbed wire _does_ seem needlessly unkind. Walk along the +sand-dunes; must pass the time somehow till dinner, and the arrival of +my luggage. Wonder whether it really _was_ labelled "Ostend." Suppose +the porter thought I said "Rochester" ... in that case--I will _not_ +worry about it like this. I will go back and see the town. + +I have; it is like a good many other foreign towns. I am melancholy. +I _can't_ dismiss that miserable luggage from my mind. To be alone +in a foreign land, without so much as a clean sock, is a distressing +position for a sensitive person. If I could only succeed in seeing a +humorous element in it, it would be _something_--but I can't. It is +too forlorn to be at all funny. And there is still an hour and a half +to get through before dinner! + +I have dined--in a small room, with a stove, a carved buffet, and a +portrait of the King of the BELGIANS; but my spirits are still low. +German Waiter dubious about me; reserving his opinion for the present. +He comes in with a touch of new deference in his manner. "Please, +a man from de shdation for you." I go out--to find the sympathetic +Porter. My baggage has arrived? It has; it is at the Douane, waiting +for me. I am saved! I tell the Waiter, without elation, but with +what, I trust, is a calm dignity--the dignity of a man who has been +misunderstood, but would scorn to resent it. + +_At the Station._--I have accompanied the Porter to the Terminus, such +a pleasant helpful fellow, so intelligent! The Ostend streets much +less dull at night. Feel relieved, in charity with all the world, now +that my prodigal portmanteau is safely reclaimed. Porter takes me +into a large luggage-room. Don't see my things just at first. "Your +baggage--_ere!_" says the Porter, proudly, and points out a little +drab valise with shiny black leather covers and brass studs--the kind +of thing a man goes a journey with in a French Melodrama! He is quite +hurt when I repudiate it indignantly; he tries to convince me that +it is mine--the fool! There is no other baggage of any sort, and mine +can't possibly arrive now before to-morrow afternoon, if then. Nothing +for it but to go back, luggageless, to the Hotel--and face that +confounded Waiter. + +Walk about the streets. Somehow I don't feel quite up to going back +to the Hotel just yet. The shops, which are small and rather dimly +lighted, depress me. There is no theatre, nor _cafe chantant_ open +apparently. If there were, I haven't the heart for them to-night. Hear +music from a small _estaminet_ in a back street; female voice, with +fine Cockney accent, is singing "_Oh, dem Golden Slippers!_" Wonder +where _my_ slippers are! + +_In my Bedroom._--I have had to come back at last, and get it +over with the Waiter. If he felt _any_ surprise, I think it was +to see me back at all. I have had to ask him if he could get me +some sleeping-things to pass the night in. _And_ a piece of soap. +Humiliating, but unavoidable. He promised, but he has not brought +them. Probably this last request has done for me, and he is now +communicating with the police.... + +A tap at my door. "Please, de tings!" says the Waiter. I have wronged +him. He has brought me _such_ a nightgown! Never saw anything in the +least like it before. It has flowers embroidered all down the front +and round the cuffs, and on every button something is worked in tiny +blue letters, which, on inspection, turns out to be "Good-night." I +don't quite know why, but, in my present state, I find this strangely +consoling, and even touching--like a benediction. After all, he _must_ +believe in me, or he would hardly confide his purple and fine linen to +me like this. Go to bed gorgeous, and dream that my portmanteau, bag, +and self-respect are all restored to me by the afternoon boat.... +There must be something in dreams, for, oddly enough, this is exactly +what _does_ happen. + +Next morning, at breakfast, I am handed a mysterious and, at first +sight, rather alarming telegram from the Station-master at Dover. +"Your bones will be sent on next boat." Suspect the word in the +original was "_boxes_." But they may call them what they like, so +long as I get them back again. + + * * * * * + +"_The Campaign against the Jebus. Gallant Advance of the British._" +Dear old Mrs. RAM wants to know "who is commanding the British forces +in the campaign against the Jebus" (which she spells "Gibus")? +_Mr. Punch_ is glad to inform his estimable correspondent that the +principal officers commanding in the Gibus Campaign are Generals +WIDE-AWAKE, BILLICOCK, JIMCROW, POTT, and BELTOPPER. Their strategical +movements are worthy of the First Nap. + + * * * * * + +CONSIDERATE.--Arrangements are to be made for all Standing Committees +in future to sit at certain hours. "For this relief, much thanks," as +WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, M.P., observed. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: RECIPROCAL. + +_Sporting Gentleman._ "WELL, SIR, I'M VERY PLEASED TO HAVE MADE YOUR +ACQUAINTANCE, AND HAD THE OPPORTUNITY OF HEARING A CHURCHMAN'S VIEWS +ON THE QUESTION OF TITHES. OF COURSE, AS A COUNTRY LANDOWNER, I'M +INTERESTED IN CHURCH MATTERS, AND--" + +_The Parson._ "QUITE SO--DELIGHTED, I'M SURE. ER--BY THE BYE, COULD +YOU TELL ME _WHAT'S WON TO-DAY_?"] + + * * * * * + +THE BURIAL OF THE "BROAD-GAUGE." + +MAY 23, 1892. + + ["Drivers of Broad-Gauge Engines wandering disconsolately + about with their engine-lamps in their hands; followed by + their firemen with pick and shovel over their shoulder, + waiting in anxious expectation of the time when that + new-fangled machine, a narrow-gauge engine, should come down + a day or two after."--_Times' Special at Plymouth on Death of + Broad Gauge._] + + Not a whistle was heard, not a brass bell-note, + As his corse o'er the sleepers we hurried; + Not a fog-signal wailed from a husky throat + O'er the grave where our "Broad-Gauge" we buried. + + We buried him darkly, at dead of night, + The sod with our pickaxes turning, + By the danger-signal's ruddy light, + And our oil-lamps dimly burning. + + No useless tears, though we loved him well! + Long years to his fire-box had bound us. + We fancied we glimpsed the great shade of BRUNEL, + In sad sympathy hovering round us. + + Few and gruff were the words we said, + But we thought, with a natural sorrow, + Of the Narrow-Gauge foe of the Loco. just dead, + _We_ should have to attend on the morrow. + + We thought, as we hollowed his big broad bed, + And piled the brown earth o'er his funnel, + How his foe o'er the Great-Western metals would tread, + Shrieking triumph through cutting and tunnel. + + Lightly they'll talk of him now he is gone, + For the cheap "Narrow Gauge" has outstayed him, + Yet BULL _might_ have found, had he let it go on, + That BRUNEL's Big Idea would have paid him! + + But the battle is ended, our task is done; + After forty years' fight he's retiring.[1] + This hour sees thy triumph, O STEPHENSON; + Old "Broad Gauge" no more will need firing. + + The "Dutchman" must now be "divided in two"!-- + Well, well, they shan't mangle or mess _you_! + Accept the last words of friends faithful, if few:-- + "Good-bye, poor old Broad-Gauge, God bless you!"[2] + + Slowly and sadly we laid him down. + He has filled a great chapter in story. + We sang not a dirge--we raised not a stone, + But we left the "Broad Gauge" to his glory! + +[Footnote 1: The Royal Commission appointed to inquire into the + uniformity of railway gauges, presented their report to Parliament + on May 30, 1846.] + +[Footnote 2: Words found written on one of the G.-W. rails.] + + * * * * * + +TO A DEAR YOUNG FEMININE FRIEND, WHO SPELT "WAGON" AS "WAGGON." + + Bad spelling? Oh dear no! So tender, she + Wished that the cart should have an extra "_gee_." + + * * * * * + +KILLING NO MURDER. + +(_TO THE EDITOR OF "PUNCH."_) + +MY DEAR SIR,--I have just been reading with a great deal of surprise +"_The Life and Letters of Charles Samuel Keene_, by GEORGE SOMES +LAYARD." Seeing the name of one of your colleagues as the first line +of the "Index," I turned to page 74 and looked him out. I found him +mentioned in an account given by Mr. M.H. SPIELMANN of the _Punch_ +Dinner, which Mr. GEORGE SOMES LAYARD had extracted from _Black and +White_, no doubt to assist in making up his book. The following is +the quotation:--"The Editor, as I have said, presides; should he be +unavoidably absent, another writer--usually, nowadays, Mr. ARTHUR +A'BECKETT--takes his place, the duty never falling to an artist." +Then, to show how thoroughly Mr. GEORGE SOMES LAYARD is up to date, +he adds to the name of Mr. ARTHUR A'BECKETT (after the fashion of +_Mr. Punch_ in the drama disposing of the clown or the beadle), "since +dead." Now Mr. ARTHUR A'BECKETT is not dead, but very much alive. +Do you not think, Sir, it would be better were gentlemen who write +about yourself and your colleagues, to verify their facts before they +attempt to give obituary notices, even if they be as brief as the one +in question? + + Yours, truly, + MORE GAY THAN GRAVE. + + * * * * * + +NEW AND APPROPRIATE NAME FOR MODERN PUGILISM.--The "Nobble" Art. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE BURIAL OF THE "BROAD-GAUGE."] + + * * * * * + +STUDIES IN THE NEW POETRY. + +The world is of course aware by this time that a New Poetry has +arisen, and has asserted itself by the mouths of many loud-voiced +"boomers." It has been _Mr. Punch's_ good fortune to secure several +specimens of this new product, not through the intervention of middle +men, but from the manufacturers themselves. He proposes to publish +them for the benefit and enlightenment of his readers. But first a +word of warning. There are perhaps some who believe that a poem should +not only express high and noble thoughts, or recount great deeds, but +that it should do so in verse that is musical, cadenced, rhythmical, +instinct with grace, and reserved rather than boisterous. If any +such there be, let them know at once that they are hopelessly +old-fashioned. The New Poetry in its _highest_ expression banishes +form, regularity and rhythm, and treats rhyme with unexampled +barbarity. Here and there, it is true, rhymes get paired off quite +happily in the conventional manner, but directly afterwards you may +come upon a poor weak little rhyme who will cry in vain for his mate +through half a dozen interloping lines. Indeed, cases have been known +of rhymes that have been left on a sort of desert island of a verse, +and have never been fetched away. And sometimes when the lines have +got chopped very short, the rhymes have tumbled overboard altogether. +That is really what is meant by "impressionism" in poetry carried to +its highest excellence. There are, of course, other forms of the New +Poetry. There is the "blustering, hob-nailed" variety which clatters +up and down with immense noise, elbows you here, and kicks you there, +and if it finds a pardonable weakness strolling about in the middle of +the street, immediately knocks it down and tramples upon it. Then too +there is the "coarse, but manly" kind which swears by the great god, +Jingo, and keeps a large stock of spread eagles always ready to swoop +and tear without the least provocation. + +However, _Mr. Punch_ may as well let his specimens speak for +themselves. Here, then, is + +NO. I.--A GRAVESEND GREGORIAN. + +BY W.E. H-NL-Y. (_CON BRIO._) + + Deep in a murky hole, + Cavernous, untransparent, fetid, dank, + The demiurgus of the servants' hall, + The scuttle-bearing buttons, boon and blank + And grimy loads his evening load of coals, + Filled with respect for the cook's and butler's rank, + Lo, the round cook half fills the hot retreat, + Her kitchen, where the odours of the meat, + The cabbage and sweets all merge as in a pall, + The stale unsavoury remnants of the feast. + Here, with abounding confluences of onion, + Whose vastitudes of perfume tear the soul + In wish of the not unpotatoed stew, + They float and fade and flutter like morning dew. + And all the copper pots and pans in line, + A burnished army of bright utensils, shine; + And the stern butler heedless of his bunion + Looks happy, and the tabby-cat of the house + Forgets the elusive, but recurrent mouse + And purrs and dreams; + And in his corner the black-beetle seems + A plumed Black Prince arrayed in gleaming mail; + Whereat the shrinking scullery-maid grows pale, + And flies for succour to THOMAS of the calves, + Who, doing nought by halves, + Circles a gallant arm about her waist, + And takes unflinching the cheek-slap of the chaste + And giggling fair, nor counts his labour lost. + Then, beer, beer, beer. + Spume-headed, bitter, golden like the gold + Buried by cutlassed pirates tempest-tossed, + Red-capped, immitigable, over-bold + With blood and rapine, spreaders of fire and fear. + The kitchen table + Is figured with the ancient, circular stains + Of the pint-pot's bottom; beer is all the go. + And every soul in the servants' hall is able + To drink his pint or hers until they grow + Glorious with golden beer, and count as gains + The glowing draughts that presage morning pains. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: QUITE UNANSWERABLE. + +_Ethel._ "MAMMY DEAR! WHY DO YOU POWDER YOUR FACE, AND WHY DOES THOMAS +POWDER HIS HAIR? I DON'T DO EITHER!"] + + * * * * * + +EPISCOPACY IN DANGER.--_Mr. Punch_ congratulates Dr. PEROWNE, Bishop +of Worcester, on his narrow fire-escape some days ago, when his lawn +sleeves (a costume more appropriate for a garden-party than a pulpit) +caught fire. It was extinguished by a bold Churchwarden. In future let +Churchwardens be prepared with hose whenever a prelate runs any chance +of ignition from his own "burning eloquence." If _Mr. Punch's_ advice +as above is acted upon, a Bishop if "put out" may probably mutter, +"Darn your hose." But this can be easily explained away. + + * * * * * + +BETTER AND BETTER.--The Report last week about Sir ARTHUR SULLIVAN +was that "he hopes to go to the country shortly." So do our political +parties. Sir ARTHUR cannot restrain himself from writing new and +original music at a rapid pace. This, is a consequence of his having +taken so many composing draughts. + + * * * * * + +"OUR BOOKING OFFICE."--Not open this week, as the Baron has been +making a book. Interesting subject, "On the Derby and Oaks." Being +in sporting mood, the Baron adopts as his motto King SOLOMON's +words of wisdom, out of his (King SOLOMON's) own mines of golden +treasures,--"And of book-making there is no end." He substitutes +"book-making" for "making of books," and with the poetic CAMPBELL +(HERBERT of that ilk) he sings, "it makes no difference." + + * * * * * + +AFTER THE EVENT.--Last Sunday week was the one day in the year when +ancient Joe Millers were permissible. It was "Chestnut Sunday." We +didn't like to mention it before. + + * * * * * + +The Royal General Theatrical Fund Dinner, held last Thursday, will be +remembered in the annals of the Stage as "ALEXANDER's Feast." + + * * * * * + +HORACE IN LONDON. TO A COQUETTE. (AD PYRRHAM.) + +[Illustration] + + What stripling, flowered and scent-bedewed, + Now courts thee in what solitude? + For whom dost thou in order set + Thy tresses' aureole, Coquette. + + "Neat, but not gaudy"?--Soon Despond + (Too soon!) at flouted faith and fond, + Soon tempests halcyon tides above + Shall wreck this raw recruit of Love; + + Who counts for gold each tinsel whim, + And hopes thee always all for him, + And trusts thee, smiling, spite of doom + And traitorous breezes! Hapless, whom + + Thy glamour holds untried. For me, + I've dared enough that fitful sea; + Its "breach of promise" grim hath curst + Both purse and person with its worst. + + My "dripping weeds" are doffed; and I + Sit "landed," like my wine, and "dry;" + What "weeds" survive I smoke, and rub + My hands in harbour at my Club! + + * * * * * + +OPERATIC NOTES. + +_Monday._--_L'Amico Fritz_ at last! Better late than never. A Dramatic +Operatic Idyl. "Nothing in it," as _Sir Charles Coldstream_ observes, +except the music, the singing, and the acting of Signor DE LUCIA as +_Fritz_ Our Friend, of M. DUFRICHE as the _Rabbi_ of Mlle. GIULIA +RAVOGLI as _Boy Beppe_, of Mlle. BAUERMEISTER as _Caterina_, and of +Madame CALVE as _Suzel_. Not an indifferent performer or singer among +them, and not an individual in the audience indifferent to their +performance. Cherry-Tree Duet, between _Suzel_ and _Fritz_, great hit. +Admirably sung and acted, and vociferously encored. Nay, they would +have had it three times if they could, but though Sir DRURIOLANUS sets +his face against encores, allowing not too much encore but just encore +enough, he, as an astute Manager, cannot see why persons who have +paid to hear a thing only once should hear it three times for the same +money. No; if they like it so much that they want it again, and must +have it, and won't be happy till they get it, then let them encore +their own performance of paying for their seats, and come and hear +their favourite _morceaux_ over and over again as often as they like +to pay. He will grant one encore no more. Sir DRURIOLANUS is right. Do +we insist on Mr. IRVING giving us "To be or not to be," or any other +soliloquy, all over again, simply because he has done it once so well? +Do we ask Mr. J.L. TOOLE to repeat his author's good jokes--or his own +when his author has failed him? No; we applaud to the echo, we laugh +till, as Mr. CHEVALIER says, "we thort we should ha' died," but +we don't encore the comic jokes, telling situations, or serious +soliloquies as rendered by our accomplished histrions. + +[Illustration: The Rabbinical-Hat-Beer-Jug.] + +Were a collection of pictures made of Mlle. BAUERMEISTER in different +characters, it would, for interest and variety, become a formidable +rival of the CHARLES MATHEWS series now in the possession of the +Garrick Club. To-night she is the busy, bustling _Caterina_, _Friend +Fritz's_ housekeeper, who, as she has to provide all the food for +their breakfast, and set it on the table, might be distinguished as +_Catering Caterina_. No one now cares to see an Opera without Mlle. +BAUERMEISTER in it, whether she appear as a dashing lady of the Court, +probably in a riding-habit, or as a middle-class German housekeeper, +or as Cupid God of Love, or as _Juliet's_ ancient nurse, or as an +impudent waiting-maid, or as an unhappy mother, or as,--well,--any +number of characters that I cannot now recall, but all done +excellently well. Never have I heard of her being either "sick or +sorry." Some few seasons ago I drew public attention to this most +useful and ornamental _artiste_, and now I am glad to see that here +and there a critic has awoke to the fact of her existence, and has +done her tardy justice. Long may the Bauermeistersinger be able to +give her valuable assistance, without which no Covent Garden Opera +Company could possibly be perfect. + +[Illustration: Bob-Cherry Duet.] + +As to _L'Amico Fritz_, I should suggest that it be played in one +Scene and two Acts. That this one Scene should be the Exterior of +Cherry-Tree Farm (which should be _Fritz's_, not the _Rabbi's_) +and that instead of lowering the Curtain, the _intermezzo_--not I +venture to opine equal to the marvellous _intermezzo_ in _Cavalleria +Rusticana_--should be played. _L'Amico_ is certain of an encore, and +this will give the singers a rest. It could then commence at nine--a +more convenient hour to those who would like to hear every note of it, +than 8:15, and it would be over by eleven sharp. A nod is as good as a +wink to Sir DRURIOLANUS, but all the same, Heaven forefend I should +be guilty of either indiscretion in the Imperial Operatorial presence. +Thus much at present. + +_Friday._--"It's the smiles of its AUGUSTUS and the heat of its +July"--adapted quotation from "Old Song." "I cannot sing the old +song"--except under a sense of the deepest and most unpardonable +provocation; and when I do!!--_Cave canem, ruat coelum!_ I bring down +the house as Madame DELILAH's SAMSON did. To-night _Manon_ is indeed +warmly welcomed. "A nice Opera," says a young lady, fanning herself. +"I wish it were an iced Opera," groans WAGSTAFF, re-issuing one of +his earliest side-splitters. M. VAN DYCK strong as the weak _Des +Grieux_, but Madame MRAVINA apparently not strong enough. "What made +author-chap think of calling her _Manon_?" asks languid person in +Stalls. WAGSTAFF, revived after an iced B.-and-S., is equal to the +occasion. "Such a bad lot, you know--regular man-catcher; hooked a +_man on_, then, when he was done with, hooked another man on. Reason +for name evident, see?" The _Cavalleria Rusticana_ is the favourite +for Derby Night. All right up to now, Sir DRURIOLANUS. + + * * * * * + +TENNER SONG FOR DERBY DAY.--"_He's got it on!_" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: WHAT OUR ARTIST (THE SMALL AND SUSCEPTIBLE ONE) HAS TO +PUT UP WITH. + +_Miss Binks._ "PRAY, MR. TITMOUSE, WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DRAW SUCH +IMMENSELY TALL WOMEN?" + +_Our Artist._ "WELL, MISS BINKS, I SUPPOSE IT'S BECAUSE I'M SUCH A +TINY LITTLE MAN MYSELF. CONTRAST, YOU SEE!" + +_Miss Binks._ "AH, YES, CONTRAST! THAT IS HOW WE TINY LITTLE WOMEN +ALWAYS ATTRACT ALL THE FINE TALL MEN! THAT'S HOW _WE_ SCORE!" + +_Our Artist._ "EXACTLY. I ONLY WISH TO GOODNESS YOU'D ATTRACT THAT +VERY FINE TALL MAN AWAY FROM MISS JONES--THEN _I_ MIGHT HAVE A CHANCE, +PERHAPS!"] + + * * * * * + +A VERY "DARK HORSE." + + ["The Country knows ... what it is we desire to do. What the + Right Hon. Gentleman (Mr. GLADSTONE) desires to do no human + being knows. If we have done our part, as we have done, to + clear the issues, all we can ask him is to do his part, to + lay before the electorate of this country in the same plain, + unmistakable outline, the policy which he desires to see + adopted."--_Mr. Balfour on Second Reading of Irish Local + Government Bill._] + + SCENE--_The Paddock, before the Great Race. Rising Young + Jockey_, ARTHUR BALFOUR, _mounted on the Crack Irish Horse. + Enter Grand Old Jockey, at the moment minus a mount._ + +_Grand Old Jockey_ (_aside_). Humph! Don't look so bad, now, despite + the dead set + That against him we've made since his very first running, + Do they mean him to win after all? Artful set, + That Stable! It strikes me they've been playing cunning. + One wouldn't have backed him, first off, for a bob. + His owner concerning him scarcely seemed caring. + Eugh! No one supposed he was fair "on the job"; + A mere trial-horse, simply "out for an airing." + When he first stripped in public he looked such a screw, + He was hailed with a general chorus of laughter; + Young BAL seemed abashed at the general yahboo! + And pooh-poohed his new mount! What the doose is he after? + I'm bound to admit the Horse _looks_ pretty fit, + And the boy sits him well, and as though he meant _trying_. + I say, this won't do! I must bounce him a bit. + Most awkward, you know, if his "slug" takes to _flying_! + +_Rising Young Jockey_ (_aside_). Hillo! There's Old WILLIAM! He's out + on the scoot. + The artful Old Hand! Hope he'll like what he looks on! + He slated this nag as a peacocky brute, + Whose utter collapse they've been building their books on. + How now, my spry veteran? Only a boy + On a three-legged crock? Well, I own you are older, + And watching your riding's a thing to enjoy; + There isn't a Jock who is defter _and_ bolder; + Your power, authority, eloquence--yes, + For your gift of the gab is a caution--are splendid; + But--the youngster _may_ teach you a lesson, I guess, + As to judgment of pace ere the contest is ended. + +_Grand Old Jockey_ (_aloud_). Well, ARTHUR my lad, in the saddle + again! + Is _that_ your crack mount? + +_Rising Young Jockey._ The identical one, WILL. + +_Grand Old Jockey._ Dear, dear, what a pity! It quite gives me pain + To see you so wasted. + +_Rising Young Jockey._ That's only your fun, WILL. + +_Grand Old Jockey._ Nay, nay, not at all! Don't think much of his + points. + He's not bred like a true-blood, nor built like a winner. + Not well put together, so coarse in his joints, + In fact--only fit for a hunting-pack's dinner! + +_Rising Young Jockey_ (_laughing_). Oh! "Cat's-meat!" is your cry, is + it, WILLIAM? Well, well! + We shall see about that when the winning-post's handy. + +_Grand Old Jockey._ _You_ won't, my brave boy; that a novice could + tell. + You'll be left in the ruck at the end, my young dandy, + +_Rising Young Jockey._ Perhaps! Still the pencillers haven't,--as + yet-- + Quite knocked the nag out with their furious fever + Of hot opposition. Some cool ones still bet + On his chance of a win. + +_Grand Old Jockey_ (_contemptuously_). Ah, you're wonderful clever. + But we have got one in _our_ Stable, my lad, + Who can--just lick his head off! + +_Rising Young Jockey_ (_drily_). Now have you indeed, WILL? + I fancy I've heard that before. Very glad + That your lot are in luck; and I hope you'll succeed, WILL, + But bless me! yours seems such a _very_ Dark Horse! + Oh! there, don't fire up so! Your word I won't doubt, WILL. + You say so, and one must believe you, of course; + But--_isn't_ it time that you _brought the nag out_, WILL? + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A VERY "DARK HORSE." + +OLD JOCKEY. "DON'T THINK MUCH OF HIS POINTS! WE'VE ONE IN OUR STABLE +CAN LICK HIS HEAD OFF!" + +YOUNG JOCKEY. "_HAVE_ YOU? THEN WHY DON'T YOU _BRING HIM OUT_?"] + + * * * * * + +HISTORY AS SHE IS PLAYED! + +_Questioner._ Why should M.V. SARDOU be called the Historian of the + French Revolution? + +_Answerer._ Because in _Thermidor_ he has given an entirely new + version of the "Reign of Terror." + +_Q._ Was the "Reign of Terror" very terrible? + +_A._ Not very. At the Opera Comique it had its comic side. + +_Q._ How was that? + +_A._ For instance, _les tricoteuses_ were represented by comely, + albeit plump maidens, who seemed more inclined to dance round a + Maypole than haunt a scaffold. + +_Q._ Were ROBESPIERRE, ST. JUST, and the rest, cruel and vindictive? + +_A._ I should say not; and I found my conclusion on the fact that they + engaged an actor given to practical joking as an officer of the Public + Security. + +_Q._ From this, do you take it that ROBESPIERRE must have had a subtle +sense of humour? + +_A._ I do; and the impression is strengthened by his order for a + general slaughter of Ursuline Nuns. + +_Q._ Why should he order such a massacre? + +_A._ To catch the heroine of _Thermidor_, a lady who had taken the + vows under the impression that her lover had been killed by the enemy. + +_Q._ Had her lover been killed? + +_A._ Certainly not; he had preferred to surrender. + +_Q._ Can you give me any idea of the component part of a revolutionary + crowd? + +_A._ At the Opera Comique, a revolutionary crowd seems to consist of + a number of mournful loungers, who have nothing to do save to take + a languid interest in the fate of a tearful maiden, and a few _gens + d'armes_ a little uncertain about their parade-ground. + +_Q._ How do the mournful loungers express their interest in the fate + of the tearful maiden? + +_A._ By pointing her out one to another, and when she is ordered off + to execution removing their hats, and fixing I their attention on + something concealed behind the scenes. + +_Q._ What is your present idea of the Reign of Terror? + +_A._ My present idea of the Reign of Terror is, that it was the + mildest thing imaginable. In my opinion, not even a child in arms + would have been frightened at it. + +_Q._ Do you not consider M. MAYER deserving of honour? + +_A._ Certainly I do. For has he not removed (with the assistance of M. + SARDOU and the Opera Comique) several fond illusions of my youth? + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: NATURE V. ART. + +_AEsthetic Friend._ "YES, THIS ROOM'S RATHER NICE, ALL BUT THE WINDOW, +WITH THESE LARGE BLANK PANES OF PLATE-GLASS! I SHOULD LIKE TO SEE SOME +SORT OF PATTERN ON THEM--LITTLE SQUARES OR LOZENGES OR ARABESQUES--" + +_Philistine._ "WELL, BUT THOSE LOVELY CHERRY BLOSSOMS, AND THE LAKE, +AND THE DISTANT MOUNTAIN, AND THE BEAUTIFUL SUNSETS, AND THE PURPLE +CLOUDS--ISN'T THAT PATTERN ENOUGH?"] + + * * * * * + +THE MORNING OF THE DERBY.--_Hamlet_ considering whether he shall go +to Epsom for the great race or not, soliloquises, "Der-_be_ or not +Der-_be_, that is the question." [N.B.--As to the other lines, go as +you please. "The rest is silence."] + + * * * * * + +"MARRIED AND SINGLE" should be played by Lady-Cricketers. No single +young person under seventeen should be permitted an innings, as any +two sweet sixteens would be "not out," and there would be no chance +for the other side. Match-makers are only interested in the Single. + + * * * * * + +LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--For the first time have I seen myself in print!--and +I must say I think it very becoming--and so nice and cool too this +hot weather! You are indeed a sweet creature for adopting my idea +so readily--and I really must say that if these obstinate Members of +Parliament who oppose Women's Suffrage would only alter their views, +it would be much better for the Country--or worse--I don't know which! + +[Illustration] + +Sir MINTING BLOUNDELL, whose criticism on my contribution to your +well-written journal I invited, complimented me on my style, and +suggested that when giving my selections it might be as well to +refer to the "Home Trials" of the horses mentioned--but I venture +to disagree with him! Goodness knows we all have home trials enough! +(Lord ARTHUR and I frequently do not speak for a week unless someone +is present)--but I do not think these things should be made public, +and besides, it is an unwritten law amongst "smart" people to avoid +subjects that "chafe"--which sounds like an anachronism--whatever that +means! Having an opportunity of a "last word" on the Derby, I should +like to say that, although my confidence in my last week's selection, +_La Fleche_, is unshaken, I wish to have a second "arrow" to my bow +in _Llanthony_--of whom a very keen judge of racing (Lord BOURNEMOUTH +to wit) has formed the opinion that--in his own words--"he will be +on the premises"! The premises in question being Epsom Downs, there +will undoubtedly be room for him without his filling an unnecessarily +prominent position, so I will couple _Llanthony_ with _La Fleche_ to +supply the probable last in the Derby. + +Meanwhile, I must say a word or two about the Ladies' Race at Epsom +on Friday next. There is absolutely no knowing what will start for +the Oaks nowadays until the numbers go up--and no Turf Prophet will +venture a selection until the morning of the race--and _this_ is where +the perspicuity of an Editor like yourself, _Mr. Punch_, scores a +distinct hit--for such a paltry consideration as "knowing nothing +about it" is not likely to daunt a woman who takes as her motto the +well-known line from SHAKSPEARE: "Thus Angels rush where Cowards fear +to tread!"--so herewith I confidently append my verse selection for +the last Mare in the Oaks! + + Yours devotedly, + LADY GAY. + +THE TIP. + + 'Tis the voice of the Sluggard, I hear him complain, + You have waked me too soon--an unpleasant surprise! + In an hour or so later pray call me again, + When, if feeling refreshed, I will straightway "_Arise!_" + + * * * * * + +QUITE IN KEEPING.--The Earl of DYSART has left the ranks of the +Liberal Unionists and become a Gladstonian Home-Ruler. "What more +natural?" asked one of his former Unionist friends. "Of course he's +dysarted us!" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A MISUNDERSTANDING. + +_He._ "OH, IF I'D ONLY BEEN A 'BEAR'!" + +_She._ "IF YOU HAD BEEN, YOU COULDN'T GROWL WORSE THAN YOU DO!"] + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. + +_House of Commons, Monday, May 23._--REDMOND, Junior, said really +funny thing just now. Rising to take part in resumed Debate on Irish +Local Government Bill, he announced in loud angry tone that it would +be waste of time to discuss a Bill the Government evidently did not +intend to press through this Session, and he for one would be no party +to such a farce. Then he went on to talk for half an hour. + +[Illustration: "Joe!"] + +Debate on the whole something better than last week's contribution. +O'BRIEN delivered himself of glowing denunciation full of felicitous +phrases, all got through in half an hour. CHAMBERLAIN followed; +has not yet got over startling novelty of his interposition in +Debate being welcomed by loud cheers from Conservatives; thinks +of old Aston-Park days, when the cheering was, as WEBSTER (not +Attorney-General) says, "on the other boot." Now, when JOSEPH gets +up to demolish his Brethren sitting near, Conservatives opposite +settle themselves down with the peculiar rustling motion with which +a congregation in crowded church or chapel arrange themselves to +listen to a favourite preacher. Pretty to watch them as CHAMBERLAIN +goes forward with his speech, delighting them with surprise to find +how much better is their position than they thought when it was +recommended or extolled from their own side. JOSEPH not nearly so +acrimonious to-night as sometimes. Still, as usual, his speech +chiefly directed to his former Brethren who sit attentive, thinking +occasionally with regret of the fatal shallowness of the pit, and +the absence of arrangement for hermetically sealing it. If only--But +that is another story. COURTNEY at end of Bench is thinking of still +another, which has the rare charm of being true. It befel at a quiet +dinner where JOSEPH, finding himself in contiguity with Chairman of +Committees, took opportunity of rebuking him for his alleged laxity +in repressing disorder. + +[Illustration: The Fighting Colonel.] + +"I should like to know," he asked, "whether, supposing I were to fire +a pistol across the House, you would call it a breach of order." + +"I don't think, CHAMBERLAIN," said Prince ARTHUR, who was sitting at +the other side of the table, "that if you were going to fire a pistol +in the Commons, you would point it across the House." TIM HEALY just +back from Dublin, where he's been appearing in his favourite character +of pacificator; followed CHAMBERLAIN, and later came SAUNDERSON. But +even he suffered from prevailing tone of dulness, and WILFRID LAWSON, +fast asleep in the corner by Cross Benches, did not miss much. +_Business done._--More talk on Local Government Bill. + +_Tuesday._--If anyone looking on at House of Commons at three o'clock +this afternoon had predicted that within an hour it would be teeming +with life, brimming over with human interest, he would have been +looked upon with cold suspicion. NOLAN had taken the floor, and was +understood to be expressing his deliberate opinion on merits of Irish +Local Government Bill. He was certainly saying something, but what it +might be no man could tell. LYON PLAYFAIR, who is up in all kinds of +statistics, tells me 120 words per minute is the average utterance +of articulate speech. NOLAN was doing his 300, and sometimes exceeded +that rate. Not a comma in a column of it. A humming-top on the subject +would have been precisely as instructive and convincing. Some twenty +Members sat there fascinated by the performance. It was not delivered +in a monotone, in which case one could have slept. NOLAN was evidently +arguing in incisive manner, shirking no obstacle, avoiding no point +in the Bill, or any hit made by previous speaker. His voice rose and +fell with convincing modulation. He seemed to be always dropping into +an aside, which led him into another, that opened a sort of Clapham +Junction of converging points. One after the other, the Colonel, with +full steam up, ran along; when he reached terminus of siding, racing +back at sixty miles an hour; and so up and down another. Only guessed +this from modulation of his voice and the intelligent nodding of the +head with which he compelled the attention of ATTORNEY-GENERAL for +IRELAND. For just over half an hour he kept up this pace, and, saving +a trot for the avenue, fell back into his seat gasping for breath, +having concluded a sentence nine hundred words long worked off in +three minutes by the astonished clock. + +[Illustration: THE GLADSTONIAN BAGMAN. + +["I regard myself as a commercial traveller."--_Speech by Sir William +Harcourt at Bristol, May_ 11, 1892.]] + +[Illustration: "T.W."] + +An interval of T.W. RUSSELL, with one of his adroitly-argued, +lucidly-arranged speeches. Then Mr. G. and transformation scene. House +filled up as if by magic. In ten minutes not a seat vacant on floor; +Members running into Side Gallery, nimbly hopping over Benches, to get +on front line so as to watch as well as hear the last and the greatest +of the old Parliamentarians. As suddenly and swiftly as the House had +filled, the limp lay figure of the Debate throbbed with life. Scene of +the kind witnessed only once or twice in Session. Six hundred pair of +eyes all turned eagerly upon figure standing at Table, denouncing with +uplifted arm, and voice ringing with indignation, the iniquities of +the MARKISS, safely absent, and of his nephew, Prince ARTHUR, serenely +present. + +A great speech; an achievement which, if it stood alone, sufficient to +make a reputation. And yet, when result of Division announced, it was +found that majority of an iniquitous Government had run up to 92! + +Everyone delighted to hear the interesting news from 27, St. +James's Place, which gives an heir to the Spencer Earldom, and has +spread a feeling of joy and contentment throughout Althorpe and +Mid-Northamptonshire. The latest news, brought down just now by +MARJORIBANKS, is "BOBBY is doing as well as can be expected." +_Business done._--Irish Local Government Bill read Second Time, by +339 votes against 247. + +_Wednesday._--Hail! Sir HENRY WIGGIN, Bart, M.P.; B.B.K., as ARTHUR +ORTON called himself when resident in the wilds of Australia, and +explained that the style imported Baronet of the British Kingdom. +_Now_ we know what was the meaning of that foray upon the House the +other day, when, with the Chairman in the Chair, and Committee fully +constituted, the waggish WIGGIN walked adown the House, with his +hat cocked on one side of his head, in defiance of Parliamentary +etiquette. The Birthday Gazette was even then being drafted, and +to-day the wanton WIGGIN is Sir HENRY, Baronet of the United Kingdom. +_Not_ a more popular announcement in the list. An honest, kindly, +shrewd WIGGIN it is, with a face whose genial smile all people, +warming under it, instinctively return. + +_Business done._--WIGGIN made B.B.K. + +_Thursday._--Quite a long time reaching Vote on Account; two hours +taken for discussion of Birmingham Water Bill; Gentlemen in Radical +camp much exercised about size of fish in streams annexed for purposes +of Birmingham water supply. CHAMBERLAIN, who has charge of Bill, says +he never caught one longer than two inches. DILLWYN protests that +fishing in same waters he rarely caught one less than a pound weight. +Evidently a mistake somewhere. House perplexed, finally passed Bill +through Committee. + +[Illustration: The Noble Baron.] + +Then Rev. SAM SMITH wants to know more about Polynesian Labour +Traffic. The NOBLE BARON who has charge of Colonial affairs in +Commons, whilst controverting all his statements, says "everyone must +admit that the Hon. Member has spoken from his heart." "Which," NOVAR +says, "it reminds me of the couplet _Joe Gargery_ meant to put on the +tombstone of his lamented father, 'What-sume'er the failings on his +part, Remember, reader, he were that good in his hart.'" + +At length in Committee of Supply; Vote on Account moved; Mr. G. on his +feet wanting to know you know; doesn't once mention the Dissolution; +but puts it to Prince ARTHUR whether, really, the time hasn't come +when House should learn something with respect to intentions of +Government touching finance, their principal Bills, and, in short, "so +far foreshadowing the probable termination of the Session?" Wouldn't +on any account hurry him; any day he likes will do; only getting time +something should be said. Prince ARTHUR, gratefully acknowledging +Mr. G.'s kind way of putting it, agreed with his view. Some day he +will tell us something; to-day he will say nothing. A pretty bit +of by-play; excellently done by both leading Gentlemen; perfectly +understood by laughing House. + +_Business done._--Shadow of Dissolution gathering close. + +_Friday._--I see TAY PAY, in the interesting Sunday journal he +admirably edits, reproaches me because, in this particular page +of history, "Mr. SEXTON," he says, "is derided constantly and +shamefully." _Anglice_: Occasionally when, in a faithful record of +Parliamentary events, SEXTON's part in the proceedings must needs be +noticed, it is gently hinted that among his many admirable qualities +terseness of diction is not prominent. In fact he has been sometimes +alluded to by the playful prefix WINDBAG. If TAY PAY had been +content to administer reproof, it would have been well. But he +goes on to discuss SEXTON's parliamentary style, and comes to this +conclusion:--"Mr. SEXTON's one fault as a speaker is that he does +not proportion his observations sufficiently at certain stages in his +speeches; and that preparation sometimes has the effect of tempting +him to over-elaboration." If TAY PAY likes to put it that way, no one +can object. Only, space in this journal being more valuable, the same +thing is said in a single word. + +_Business done._--Small Holdings Bill sent on to the Lords. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: OVERHEARD AT EARL'S COURT. + +_Old Buffer._ "UGH! I'M TIRED TO DEATH OF BEING HUNTED! BLESSED IF +I'LL RUN AWAY FROM THOSE BLANK CARTRIDGES AGAIN!" + +_Broncho._ "YES, YOU BET! AND I'VE MADE UP MY MIND TO QUIT BUCKING. +IT'S PERFECTLY SICKENING HAVING TO DO IT FROM YEAR'S END TO YEAR'S +END!"] + + * * * * * + +NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., +Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no +case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed +Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. 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