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diff --git a/15166-8.txt b/15166-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..13fa9d5 --- /dev/null +++ b/15166-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1565 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 103, +September 3, 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. 103, September 3, 1892 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 25, 2005 [EBook #15166] + +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. 103. + + + +September 3, 1892. + + + + +[Illustration: HAPPY THOUGHT. + +_Obliging Country Butcher_. "LET ME CUT IT INTO CUTLETS FOR YOU, +MA'AM,--LEAVING JUST ENOUGH BONE FOR YOU TO HOLD 'EM BY, WHILE YOU'RE +EATING 'EM!"] + + * * * * * + +NOT GOING AWAY FOR THE HOLIDAYS. + +_Cookson Gaze, Q.C._ Because MARIA votes Eastbourne vulgar, and the +girls (sorry now I sent them to that finishing-school at Clapham) +laugh so consumedly whenever I open my mouth to address a native if we +go to Trouville or Dinard. + +_C. Jumper_. Because the Governor thinks three days in the year enough +for anybody. + +_Eastend Dr._ Because that fiver will just give little SALLY the +breath of sea-air she wants, and she'll never make a good cure unless +she has it. + +_Reg. Rake_. Because wife says she shall certainly accompany me. + +_Barmaid_. Because I've just been ill for a fortnight from overwork, +and the Company say they can't give any more leave. + +_Eastend Clergyman_ (_of any church._) Because there are hundreds who +want it more than I do, and I must help them to get a change first. + +_Major Hornblower_. Because MACCRACSHOTT (the only man who has asked +me) was in the smoking-room the night I was fool enough to tell that +Snipe and Rhinoceros Story of PEYTON's in the first person. + +_Quiverful_. Because there's another pair. + + * * * * * + +EPITAPH ON AN OLD CRICKETER'S TOMBSTONE.--"Out at 70." + + * * * * * + +MUSICAL NOTES. + +_Popping a Question._--The _Daily News_, in its last week's "Music and +Musicians," informs us that "Mr. CHAPPELL has now definitely decided +that the season of Monday Popular Concerts shall this year commence +on a Tuesday." Sure then it must be Mister O'CHAPPELL, the CHAPPELL +by the hill-side, who arranges to have his first "Monday Pop" on a +Tuesday? If he be going out shooting on his own native heath, his name +O'CHAPPELL, then there's no reason why he shouldn't have his first pop +on a Tuesday, only it couldn't be his Monday Pop, could it now? Or if +he drinks _Mr. P.'s_ health in Pommery '80 (_grand vin!_), or let's +say Poppery '80, he could do so on a Tuesday, only it would no longer +be the "Monday Pop." That's all. Sure 'tis mighty confusing and upsets +the week entirely. If Tuesday is to have all the Pop, what's to become +of Monday? For further particulars inquire at the Pop-shop, Bond +Street. + +The next great Musical Event is at the Gloucester Festival--it is +Dr. HUBERT PARRY "on the Job." This, though the work of a thoroughly +English Composer, may yet be considered as an "_Article de Parry_." + + * * * * * + +"MARS IN OPPOSITION."--"Mother says I mustn't." + + * * * * * + +THIS PICTURE AND THAT. + +(_EXTRACTS FROM THE DIARY OF A LOVER OF THE BEAUTIFUL._) + +_First Extract_.--Really an excellent notion to buy an estate, instead +of picking up what Mr. RUDYARD KIPLING calls a "smeared thing." Got +one, too, pretty cheap. Twenty miles from a railway station, but so +much the better. RUSKIN hates railway stations, and so do I. Never can +make them look picturesque. The Agent tells me my place is famous for +its sunsets; also good moonlight effects on occasions. Pretty village, +too, in the background. Altogether, most satisfactory. After all, +Nature is much better than Art. + +_Second Extract_.--Dullerton-on-the-Slush is a charming spot, but +it has its drawbacks. Pretty, but damp. Fog interferes a good deal +with the sunsets, and hides the moon at the wrong moment. Village +deliciously out of repair. But tenants unreasonable. Offered to put up +some red brick roofs for them, which would have looked charming, but +they insist upon having slates. Wish they would consent to having +a few cows in the fields, but they say they prefer pigstyes. Have +consulted a builder and a gardener, and they think that they could +"run up" a stye between them, and cover it over with shrubs. Tenants +object. They say the pigs would not like it, and might eat the shrubs +with fatal results. All this annoying, but still the view from my +dining-room window charming. It reminds me not a little of CONSTABLE, +LINNELL, not to say Old CROME. + +_Third Extract_.--Further troubles. Tenants are really very +disagreeable, and they have no feeling for Art. They have cut down +a lot of ornamental trees, and they won't grow the right sort of +crops,--I mean from a picturesque point of view. As agriculturists +they may be all right, but that's not my point. I did not buy the +estate to try how "roots" would thrive. Then they will burn weeds, +and hang out clothes to dry--clothes without any regard to contrast +of colour. Eyesores meet me everywhere. I am really not sure whether I +acted wisely in trusting to a House-agent instead of a Picture-dealer. +"Pictures by Nature" are not as reliable as they should be. + +_Fourth Extract_.--This is really too bad! A perambulating Circus +has pitched its tent on the Village Green! When I say tent, I make a +mistake; it is a beastly ugly iron thing, that looks simply hideous, +and from the durable stoutness of its construction, it evidently is +going to be a fixture for some time. My tenants support the Circus +people, and my Agent tells me, that if I interfere, my life will be +made a burden to me. It appears my tenants are "a very unruly lot when +they are irritated." Pleasant! + +_Fifth Extract_.--The Circus won't go. And now I find I can't get any +of my rents. My agent tells me, that my tenants never would settle +with their last landlord. Besides, they expect me to pay for the +damage done to their dwellings by the floods. They say it was my +fault, because I would put up a bank and plantation in my back garden. +Only light in the general gloom is, the prospect my Agent holds out +to me of getting rid of the property for me to another lover of the +picturesque. Scarcely fair; but after all, or rather before all, must +take care of Number One. + +_Last Extract_.--Hurray! Sold my estate to another fellow. However, on +looking over my accounts, I fancy I should have found it cheaper if, +in the first instance, I had bought a chromo lithograph! + + * * * * * + +EPITAPH.--An Alpining Traveller sends us, on the "Bär" Hotel lately +destroyed at Grindelwald, the following adapted and reversified +quotation:-- + + "Good-bye to the Bär-- + And it's moaning" we are! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "SUMMER VOLUPTAS." + +_Toby_ (_sings_). "MY BARQUE IS ON THE SEA!"] + + * * * * * + +SONGS OUT OF SEASON. + +NO. I.--DISORGANISED. + + Still in London now you'll find me, + Still detained against my will; + And I wish, distinctly, mind me, + To accentuate the "_still_;" + It's a sort of consolation, + As I sit, and fume, and frown, + That the greatest botheration + Of my life is out of town. + + + He who used to grind "_She Wore a + Wreath of Roses_" every day, + And "Selections from _Dinorah_," + And--"_Ta-ra-ra-Boom-de-ay_." + With his execrable smiling, + And exasperating din, + Must, I needs infer, be riling + Some one else with grind and grin. + + He who seemed, in fact, delighted, + And a kiss--the fiend!--would blow, + When I got a bit excited, + And exclaimed "_Al Diavolo_!" + Who, with unabashed assurance, + Only beamed the more, and kissed, + If, incensed beyond endurance, + In his face I shook my fist. + + He has earned his little outing, + This excruciating cove, + And his instrument is flouting + Bath, or Scarborough, or Hove. + For the moment I can get a + Peaceful interim, and free-- + But he cherishes vendetta, + This Italian count, to me. + + Yes! Perhaps, indeed, 'twere kinder, + Had he ne'er relaxed his track; + He'll return, that grinning grinder, + Reinvigorated, back! + Then, as I remarked before, a + Spell of doom for me remains, + With "Selections from _Dinorah_," + And his other worse refrains. + + * * * * * + +WHY I DON'T GO OUT OF TOWN, FOR THE AUTUMN?--Because I've been pretty +well everywhere, but always _quite_ well in London. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: BRIC À BRAC. + +_Lady Croesus_. "OH, WHAT A SWEET TABLE! WHERE DID YOU GET IT, MY +DEAR? OH, I SEE HERE'S THE MAN'S CARD." (_Spelling the label._) +"'TABLE--LOUIS QUINZE.' LOUIS QUINZEY! WHAT A HORRID NAME! AND WHY +HASN'T HE PUT HIS ADDRESS?"] + + * * * * * + +THE GERMAN WATERS. + + A promenade with tongues alive + That every phrase of OLLENDORFF use; + And "_Luther's Hymn_" at half-past five + To drag you from the arms of Morpheus; + Fat Germans in their awful "Fracks," + Pale Frenchmen, too, a bit _décolletés_, + And dapper Britons with attacks + Of livers and digestions faulty. + + A garden fair with "Quellen" foul-- + _Ach, Himmel_! How they taste those "Quellen"! + Then rolls and coffee, next a prowl + Among the shops with JANE or ELLEN; + The mid-day meal at _table d'hôte_, + All windows closed--a climate hellish!-- + With dishes too crackjaw to quote, + And sometimes difficult to relish. + + An afternoon of drowsy drives-- + How these poor foreigners love driving + To places where, when one arrives, + There's nought for which it's worth arriving!-- + A "Belvedere"--like Primrose Hill, + A "Gartenhaus," tobacco-scented; + Yet there they smoke, and moon, and swill, + Quite adipose, and self-contented. + + A "Kursaal," very large, and fine; + A Theatre, small, and shabby-splendid; + More beer, more music, ditto wine + (This latter can be much commended). + The Military (each salutes!) + With HANNCHEN on their arm or MARIE; + I wonder where they get those boots-- + I mean, of course, the Military. + + Lawn-Tennis and an "English Club," + Frequented now by Lords and Princes, + Where every snobling likes to rub + His elbows with a Peer, who winces; + The tittle-tattle of the cliques, + Some half-proposals for our daughters-- + Such is the life that makes for weeks + A fortune--for the German Waters! + + * * * * * + +CHOOSING HIS WORDS. + +(_MADE IN GERMANY._) + +According to the _Hochliche Zeitung_, His Imperial Majesty said that +although the sky was apparently cloudless, the atmosphere might be +charged with electricity. He knew what that electricity denoted. There +were thunderbolts in the clouds and thunderbolts on earth. Those +on earth meant war and invasion. He warned those who threatened the +Fatherland, that there were a million of swords ready to spring forth +from a million of scabbards. It was well enough to be neighbourly +when those who lived in your vicinity were benevolently inclined. But +when they showed a disposition to be offensive, then it was necessary +to sharpen your swords and keep your power dry. They had already +conquered France, and were not afraid of Russia. Besides, the Army +contained young soldiers who would be the better for a real campaign. +He himself had no objection to visiting Paris and St. Petersburg, as +a German Emperor should--at the head of a German Army. Still he might +again remark, it was splendid weather, he saw nothing but blue sky. + +[Illustration: Nose Everything.] + +According to the _Nichtgeboren Zeitung_, His Imperial Majesty said +that, although the sky was apparently cloudless, he recognised dangers +a-head. He was willing to put himself forward as the Leader of the +toilers. It was their duty to secure the best possible constitution, +and then to force that constitution upon all neighbouring people, if +needs be, at the point of the bayonet. He was not an alarmist, and +said exactly what he meant. He had no wish to beat about the bush. War +was the Hand-servant of Peace, and the sooner that servant came back +the better. He did not wish to threaten, but he told Russia and France +that Germany was ready to begin, when and where they chose to meet +him. But he might again remark it was splendid weather, and he saw +nothing but blue sky. + +_Authorised Version_ (_all others declared to be misleading and +inaccurate_).--His Imperial Majesty merely observed that it was a fine +day. + + * * * * * + +ON BOARD A YACHT.--The conversation at lunch-time had turned on recent +publications. A learned Theban from Oxford inquired of the Skipper, +if he had seen the "_Rig-Veda_." "What sort of Rig's that?" asked the +Skipper, a bit puzzled. But the Oxonian wisely declined a rigmarole +explanation, and told him that all further inquiries must be made to +Professor MAX MÜLLER. + + * * * * * + +FEELING THEIR WAY. + +(_A STUDY IN THE ART OF GENTEEL CONVERSATION._) + + SCENE--_The Drawing-room of a Margate Hotel. Time--evening. + Mrs. ARDLEIGH (of Balham), and Mrs. ALLBUTT (of + Brondesbury), are discovered in the midst of a conversation, + in which each is anxious both to impress the other, and + ascertain how far she is a person to be cultivated. At + present, they have not got beyond the discovery of a common + bond in Cookery._ + +_Mrs. Allbutt._ You have the yolks of two eggs, I must tell you; +squeeze the juice of half a lemon into it, and, when you boil the +butter in the pan, make a paste of it with _dry_ flour. + +_Mrs. Ardleigh._ It sounds delicious--but you never can trust a Cook +to carry out instructions exactly. + +_Mrs. All._ I never _do_. Whenever I want to have anything specially +nice for my husband, I make a point of seeing to it myself. He +appreciates it. Now _some_ men, if you cook for them, never notice +whether it's you or the Cook. My husband _does_. + +_Mrs. Ard._ I wonder how you find time to do it. I'm sure _I_ should +never-- + +_Mrs. All._ Oh, it takes time, of course--but what does that matter +when you've nothing to do? Did I mention just a small pinch of Cayenne +pepper?--because that's a _great_ improvement! + +_Mrs. Ard._ I tell you what I like Cayenne pepper with, better than +anything--and that's eggs. + +_Mrs. All._ (_with elegant languor_). I hardly ever eat an egg. +Oysters, now, I'm _very_ fond of--_fried_, that is. + +_Mrs. Ard._ They're very nice done in the real shells. Or on scollops. +We have silver--or rather--(_with a magnanimous impulse to tone down +her splendour_), silver-plated ones. + +_Mrs. All._ How funny--so have we! (_Both women feel an increase of +liking for one another._) I like them cooked in milk, too. + + [_The first barrier being satisfactorily passed, they proceed, + as usual, to the subject of ailments._ + +_Mrs. Ard._ My doctor _does_ do me good, I must say--he never lets me +get ill. He just sees your liver's all right, and then he feeds you +up. + +_Mrs. All._ That's like _my_ doctor; he always tells me, if he didn't +keep on constantly building me up, I should go all to pieces in no +time. That's how I come to be here. I always run down at the end of +every Season. + +_Mrs. Ard._ (_feeling that Mrs. ALLBUTT can't be "anybody very +particular" after all_). What--to Margate? Fancy! Don't you find you +get tired of it? I should. + +_Mrs. All._ (_with dignity_). I didn't say I always went to Margate. +On the contrary I have never been here before, and shouldn't be here +now, if my doctor hadn't told me it was my only chance. + +_Mrs. Ard._ (_reassured_). I only came down here on my little girl's +account. One of those nasty croopy coughs, you know, and hoops with +it. But she's almost well already. I will say it's a wonderful air. +Still, the worst of Margate is, one isn't likely to meet a soul one +knows! + +_Mrs. All._ Well, that's the charm of it--to me. One has enough of +that during the Season. + +_Mrs. Ard._ (_recognising the superiority of this view_). Indeed one +has. What a whirl it has been to be sure! + +[Illustration: "Dear, dear! _not_ a county family!"] + +_Mrs. All._ The Season? Why, I never remember one with so little +doing. Most of the best houses closed--hardly a single really smart +party--one or two weddings--and that's positively all! + +_Mrs. Ard._ (_slightly crushed, in spite of a conviction +that--socially speaking--Balham has been rather more brilliant than +usual this year._) Yes, that's very true. I suppose the Elections have +put a stop to most things? + +_Mrs. All._ There never was much going on. _I_ should rather have said +it was Marlborough House being shut up that made everything so dull +from the first. + +_Mrs. Ard._ Ah, that _does_ make such a difference, doesn't it? +(_She feels she must make an effort to recover lost ground._) I fully +expected to be at Homburg this year. + +_Mrs. All._ Then you would have met Lady NEURALINE MENTHOL She _was_ +ordered there, I happen to know. + +_Mrs. Ard._ Really, you don't say so? Lady NEURALINE! Well, that's the +first _I've_ heard of it. (_It is also the first time she has heard of +HER, but she trusts to be spared so humiliating an admission._) + +_Mrs. All._ It's a fact, I can assure you. You know her, perhaps? + +_Mrs. Ard._ (_who would dearly like to say she does, if she only +dared_). Well, I can hardly say I exactly _know_ her. I know _of_ her. +I've met her about, and so on. (_She tells herself this is quite as +likely to be true as not._) + +_Mrs. All._ (_who, of course, does not know Lady NEURALINE either_). +Ah, she is a most delightful person--requires _knowing_, don't you +know. + +_Mrs. Ard._ So many in her position do, don't they? (_So far as she +is concerned--they ALL do._) You'd think it was haughtiness--but it's +really only _manner_. + +_Mrs. All._ (_feeling that she can go ahead with safety now_). I have +never found anything of _that_ sort in Lady NEURALINE myself (_which +is perfectly true_). She's rather odd and flighty, but _quite_ a +dear. By the way, _how_ sad it is about those poor dear CHUTNEYS--the +Countess, don't you know! + +_Mrs. Ard._ Ah (_as if she knew all the rest of the family_), I don't +know _her_ at all. + +_Mrs. All._ Such a sweet woman--but the trouble she's had with her +eldest boy, Lord MANGO! He married quite beneath him, you know, some +girl from the provinces--not a county-family girl even. + +_Mrs. Ard._ (_shocked_). Dear, dear! _not_ a county family! + +_Mrs. All._ No; somebody quite common--I forget the name, but it was +either GHERKIN or ONION, or something of that sort. I was told they +had been in Chili a good while. Poor MANGO never had much taste, or +he would never have got mixed up with such a set. Anyway, he's got +himself into a terrible pickle. I hear Capsicums is actually to be +sold to pay his debts. + +_Mrs. Ard._ You don't say so! Capsicums! Gracious! + +_Mrs. All._ Yes, _isn't_ it a pity! Such a lovely old place as it +was, too--_the_ most comfortable house to stay at in all England; so +beautifully _warm_! But it's dreadful to think of how the aristocracy +are taking to marry out of their own set. Look at the Duke of +DRAGNET--married a Miss DUCKWEED--goodness only knows where he picked +her up! but he got entangled somehow, and now his people are trying to +get rid of her. I see so many of these cases. Well, I'm afraid I must +wish you good evening--it's my time for retiring. (_Patronisingly._) +I've quite enjoyed this conversation--such a pleasure in a place like +this to come across a congenial companion! + +_Mrs. Ard._ (_fluttered and flattered_). I'm sure you're exceedingly +kind to say so, and I can say the same for myself. I hope we may +become better acquainted. (_To herself, after Mrs. ALLBUTT has +departed._) I've quite taken to that woman--she's so thoroughly the +lady, and moves in very high society, too. You can tell that from +the way she talks. What's that paper oil the table? (_She picks up +a journal in a coloured wrapper.) Society Snippets, the Organ of the +Upper Ten. One Penny._ The very thing I wanted. It's such a comfort +to know who's who. (_She opens it and reads sundry paragraphs headed +"Through the Keyhole."_) Now how funny this is! Here's the very same +thing about the dulness of the Season that she said. That shows she +must be really in it. And a note about Lady NEURALINE being about to +recruit at Homburg. And another about her reputation for eccentricity, +and her "sweetness to the select few privileged to be her intimates." +And here's all about Lord MANGO, and what a pleasant house Capsicums +is, and his marriage, and the Duke of DRAGNET's too. Her information +was very correct, I must say! (_A light begins to break in upon her._) +I wonder whether--but there--people of her sort wouldn't require to +read the papers for such things. + + [_Here the door opens, and Mrs. ALLBUTT appears, in some + embarrassment._ + +_Mrs. All._ (_scrutinising the tables_). Oh, it's nothing. I thought +I'd left something of mine here; it was only a paper--I see I was +mistaken, don't trouble. + +_Mrs. Ard._ (_producing Society Snippets_). I expect it will be this. +(Mrs. ALLBUTT's face _reveals her ownership_.) I took it up, not +knowing it was yours. (_Meaningly._) It has some highly interesting +information, I see. + +_Mrs. All._ (_slightly demoralised_). Oh, has it? I--I've not had time +to glance at it yet. Pray don't let me deprive you of it. I dare say +there's very little in it I don't know already. + +_Mrs. Ard._ So I should have thought. (_To herself, after Mrs. +ALLBUTT has retired in disorder._) Fancy that woman trying to take me +in like that, and no more in Society than I am--if so much! However, +I've found her out before going too far--luckily. And I've a good mind +to take in this _Society Snippets_ myself--it certainly does improve +one's conversation. She won't have it _all_ her own way _next_ time! + + * * * * * + +POPULAR SONGS RE-SUNG. + +NO. IX.--"IN THE MORNING." + +The Music-hall Muse, if not exactly impeccably moral, is, at least, +good at moralising. Not only to topers, Totties, larky Benedicts and +spreeish servant-maids, is there pregnant meaning in the warning words +"But oh! what a difference in the morning!!!" As may thus--_pace_ +"NORTON ATKINS" and "FELIX MCGLENNON"--be made manifest:-- + +[Illustration: "He curses speculation in the morning!"] + +AIR--"_IN THE MORNING!_" + + I'd sing of the singular triumphs we see, + At night, at night! + In Politics, Pleasure, Love, Art, L.S.D., + At night, at night! + The "Johnnies" of Sport and the "Oof-birds" of Cash, + The Statesmen who shine, and the Beauties who mash, + Are in champagny spirits and cut quite a dash, + At night, at night! + But oh! don't their hearts ache, + In the morning? + Then cometh disillusion and self-scorning. + Things look their natural size + Unto hot awaking eyes, + For no gingerbread is gilded, + In the morning! + + A Premier potent may perorate free, + At night, at night! + And pretty Primrosers will shout and agree, + At night, at night! + He'll say those brave Orangemen Home Rule will quash, + He'll hint that raised Tariffs trade rivals must smash, + And his eloquence sounds neither rabid nor rash, + At night, at night! + But oh! what a difference + In the morning! + He vows he merely meant a friendly warning, + But fuss and fad 'twill boom. + And his colleagues growl with gloom + O'er the "_Times_" upon their tables, + In the morning! + + Observe what the Specials call "News of the Day" + At night, at night! + The Dalziel Telegrams startle, and slay, + At night, at night! + There's war in the East, or the CZAR is laid low, + Financiers have failed--Fifty Millions or so!-- + Or they've found Jack the Ripper in far Jericho, + At night, at night! + But oh, what a difference + In the morning! + Those Latest Wires were lies, small facts adorning. + "It is not as we stated, + For the cable's mutilated," + And "we hear 'tis contradicted" + In the morning! + + Regard the young Clerk who's been out for the day, + At night, at night! + First to the Derby, and then to the play, + At night, at night! + He "spotted a winner" at twenty to one, + His winnings will far more than pay for his fun; + He's happy, free-handed, and "sure as a gun," + At night, at night! + But oh, what a difference + In the morning! + The bookie bolts, his "gaffer" gives him warning, + He's not worth half-a-dollar, + His prospect's "out of collar," + And he curses speculation + In the morning! + + Behold the young playwright who hears his own piece, + At night, at night! + He thinks that (ironic) applause will ne'er cease, + At night, at night! + His "little one-act thing" is stodgy and slow, + But the Pit is good-natured, the youth's in a glow, + And he thinks--with some "cuts"--it will be "a great go," + At night, at night! + But oh, what a difference + In the morning! + The critics call the thing "an awful warning," + They "guy," and sneer, and scoff, + And his bantling's taken off, + "To make room for some old farce, Sir!" + In the morning! + + * * * * * + +TAKING THE OAT-CAKE. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--I was very much interested in the statement I saw +in the papers the other day, that the best preservatives of a Lady's +complexion are--Oatmeal and Oranges! I at once began the diet, but +have not succeeded very well at present. Porridge, even with milk and +cream, and plenty of sugar, is such _commonplace_ stuff, and one can't +really be expected to eat oatmeal _raw_, though Scotch gamekeepers are +said to do so. But then they are out in the open air all day, and I am +not. Oranges are nice enough--but oh, _Mr. Punch_, what a lot of them +one has to take before one feels as if one had had a meal! As I have +stopped all other food, I am becoming rather weak. My complexion is, +I think, improved--at all events, it is far less red or pink than it +used to be--but I really haven't the strength to go out of doors to +show it off. Even writing is a burden--so I will close, hoping that my +experiences may benefit others who like to try the regimen. + +LYDIA LANGUISH. + +P.S.--My Doctor has just stopped the diet! + + +DEAR SIR,--We are sure that the Oatmeal-and-Orange prescription is an +invaluable one for the complexion. We recently tried it on a Street +Arab, and after one or two doses--accompanied by the employment of +soap and water--he developed such a beautiful pink-and-white skin, +that his parents failed to recognise him. This was unfortunate in one +way, as he has now become chargeable on the rates. Talking of rates, +we may mention that we supply finest Midlothian Campaign Oatmeal at a +more reasonable figure than any other firm in the trade. Price-list on +application. + +Yours obediently, McCANNY & Co. + +_Edinburgh._ + + +SIR,--I am not less than fifty years' old, and marked with small-pox, +and therefore I think that Oatmeal and Oranges would be sure to do my +complexion good. As mine is perhaps a rather unusual case, I am trying +the remedy in a peculiarly thorough way. I have an Oatmeal-bath twice +a day, during which I suck six oranges. My breakfast consists of +porridge and marmalade. I have engaged a policeman to knock at my +front door three times every night, to wake me. I then sit up in bed +and consume oat-cakes soaked in orange-juice. I also dress in yellow, +and I have written to Belfast to ask if I can be admitted to an Orange +Society there, but hitherto I have received no reply. You will, I +think, agree with me that I am giving the new treatment a fair trial. +Yours truly, + +TABITHA NUPKINS. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: UNLUCKY COMPLIMENTS. + +_Shy but Susceptible Youth_. "ER--_COULD_ YOU TELL ME WHO THAT YOUNG +LADY IS--SKETCHING?" + +_Affable Stranger_. "SHE HAS THE MISFORTUNE TO BE MY WIFE!" + +_Shy but Susceptible One_ (_desperately anxious to please, and losing +all presence of mind_). "OH--THE MISFORTUNE'S ENTIRELY _YOURS_, I'M +_SURE_!"] + + * * * * * + +THE BAMSGATE SANDS. + + It's hey for the sands, for the jolly Ramsgate Sands, + Where the children shout and tumble, spade and bucket in their + hands. + Where sandy castles rise in scores, I trow a man might float + A fleet of six-inch pleasure-skiffs on many a deep-dug moat. + Where, while the banjos discord make, the German bands make noise, + And nursemaids by the hundred shepherd flocks of girls and boys. + Where the boys tuck up their trousers, and the girls tuck up their + frocks, + A paddling tribe who scorn their shoes and customary socks. + + Ye loud-voiced men of cocoa-nuts, what is it that you say? + "Come try yer luck, roll, bowl, or pitch; the lydies stand' + alf-way." + One youth I saw who took his stand, a clerk of pith was he, + He shut one eye and aimed with care, then let the ball fly free. + Twice, thrice, nay, thirty times he flung, his BETSY standing by, + And scornfully advising him to close his other eye. + Yet, when at last he had to own he could not do the trick, + No solitary cocoa-nut had toppled from its stick. + + Papa is in his glory here, that proud and happy man, + But in spite of all his efforts, he can't get coloured tan. + Yet every week-day morning, from ten o'clock till one, + He turns that British face of his unflinching to the sun. + Mamma she sits beside him; I overheard her say, + "Lor, Pa, you'll soon be brown as brown, you're not so red to-day." + But wives can't flatter tints away, and when he leaves the place, + I'd guarantee to light my pipe at Pa's tomato face. + + A front-row stall I quick secured, a green and gaudy bench, + And paid my humble penny to a very buxom wench. + The tide was running out amain, and slowly, bit by bit, + She moved her back seats forward till she left me in the pit. + Stout Mr. BIGGS, the hair-dresser, the Bond-Street mould of form, + Sat next me with his family, and seemed to find it warm; + And, while admiring Mrs. B. hung on her BIGGS's lips. + He favoured me, as is his wont, with all the sporting tips. + + But the most delightful object I saw upon that shore + Was a ruddy-faced and chubby-legged philosopher of four. + Though his sisters capered round him, the sage refused to budge, + He continued quietly digging just as solemn as a judge; + And if he fell, as men may fall, he spurned their proffered aid, + But lay awhile and pondered, while he clutched his wooden spade; + Then, having thought some problem out, and found that life was vain, + He slowly raised his three-foot form, and set to work again. + + And so the round of pleasure goes; a man could scarce believe + How swift the merry hours spin by from dewy morn to eve. + The goat-carts never want for fares fresh from their nurses' arms, + All day the patient donkeys bear some maid's or matron's charms. + The haughty ones may carp and sneer, we know their sorry style, + But we who revel on this shore can hear them with a smile. + We may be vulgar; what's the odds? We're cottage-folk, not "Grands," + And our simple pleasures please us on the jolly Ramsgate Sands. + + * * * * * + +DRURIOLANUS'S NEXT.--_The Prodigal Daughter_ is to be produced, +when she's of proper age to come out, at Drury Lane. Who gave her +that name? Is it her "_Pettitt nom_," or was it her Godfather, Sir +DRURIOLANUS LE GRAND, or was it the joint effort of GRAND _et_ +PETTITT, so as to satisfy all comers Great and Small? _The Prodigal +Son_ has already served as the title of an Opera directly founded on +the Scriptural parable of the Prodigal, and has recently been used as +the title of the now famous _ballet d'action_. There was also a _Père +Prodigue_--which the English schoolboy thought was French for an +uncommonly big Marie Louise specimen; so there is justification and +authority for bringing this new member of _The Prodigal_ family before +the Public. Having once started, there maybe no end to the family +of Prodigals. There will follow--_The Prodigal Aunt_, _The Prodigal +Uncle_, _The Prodigal Second Cousin by first Husband's Marriage_, and +so on, _ad infinitum_. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THE LITTLE VULGAR BOY." + +MASTER LABBY (_to the Butler_). "WON'T GIVE ME A SITUATION, WON'T YER? +THEN I'LL BREAK YER WINDOWS! YA-AH!!"] + + * * * * * + +THE LAND OF THE (RATHER TOO) FREE. + + SCENE--_The Landing-Stage of an English Port._ + +_Custom-House Officer_ (_through an interpreter_). Do you speak +English? + +_Emigrant_ (_ditto_). No. + +_Cust.-H. Off._ (_as before_). Have you any money? + +_Emi._ (_ditto_). Not a kopeck. + +_Cust.-H. Off._ Where do you come from? + +_Emi._ Polish Russia. + +_Cust.-H. Off._ Have you any family? + +_Emi._ A sick wife and eight sick children. + +_Cust.-H. Off._ Do any of you know a trade? + +_Emi._ None of us. + +_Cust.-H. Off._ Are you well enough to work? + +_Emi._ No. + +_Cust.-H. Off._ Have you any friends in England? + +_Emi._ Don't know a soul. + +_Cust.-H. Off._ Have you any luggage? + +_Emi._ Only the Cholera! + + + * * * * * + +A COMPENDIOUSLY GRAMMATICAL TREE.--A Yew Tree. First it may be a 'Igh +Tree, but it is a Yew Tree. It is either a He Tree or a She Tree. +If small, it represents the first person plural by being a "Wee +Tree:" the second person plural is the Manager and Manageress of the +Haymarket, "Ye Trees;" and the third person plural would be expressed +by a Devonshire Gardener indicating this talented couple as "They +Trees." + + * * * * * + +TEE, TEE, ONLY TEE! + +(_SONG OF THE GOLF ENTHUSIAST. AFTER THOMAS MOORE_.) + +AIR--"_Thee, thee, only thee_." + +[Illustration] + + The dawn of morn, the daylight's sinking, + Shall find me on the Links, and thinking + Of Tee, Tee, only Tee! + When rivals meet upon the ground, + The Putting-green's a realm enchanted, + Nay, in Society's giddy round + My soul, (like Tooting's thralls) is haunted + By Tee, Tee, only Tee!' + + For that at early morn I waken, + And swiftly bolt my eggs and bacon, + For Tee, Tee, only Tee! + I'm game to start all in the dark + To the Links hurrying--resting never. + The Caddie yawns, but, like a lark, + I halt not, heed not, hastening ever + To Tee, Tee, only Tee! + + Of chilly fog I am no funker, + I'll brave the very biggest bunker + For Tee, Tee, only Tee! + A spell that nought on earth can break + Holds me. Golf's charms can ne'er be _spoken_; + But late I'll sleep, and early wake, + Of loyalty be this my token, + To Tee, Tee, only Tee! + + * * * * * + +INNS AND OUTS. + +NO. II.--THE HEAD-WETTER. + +I entitle him as self-pronounced. If "Mr." is the Grand-Hôtel Jupiter, +the Head-Waiter is its Mercury. Nothing modern is so versatile as +the Head-Waiter. The first thing about the Head-Waiter is his cigars. +These are covered with tinsel and colours: very gay--almost as gay as +the Head-Waiter. They are of unpronounceable and unknown brands. They +vary in price and size, but agree in flavour--liquorice, tempered by +ink. Like the fabled fruit, they crumble to ashes in your mouth. If +you are only a bird of passage, you will often find a box or so in +your room. "Great opportunity--veritable Pestarenas of Nockudaun--one +whole box for a sovereign English," the Head-Waiter assures you. The +memory of that man is astounding; he remembers all the numbers, all +the wines, all the names, and all the Lady's-maids. For he is a bit +of a _Leporello_, is the Head-Waiter. + +[Illustration: "One whole box for a sovereign English."] + +After dinner, where he takes a dozen orders, makes a dozen +recommendations, and tells a dozen lies at once, you may see him +philandering by the Lake with MARY ANN, JEANETTE, and KLARA, all +jealous, and all adoring, teaching each the language of the other, and +all the art of love. I have often envied him. The Head-Waiter's life +is a "happy one." He is ubiquitous; Egypt, The Riviera, Switzerland, +and Italy, see him by turns; in each he has a white waistcoat, +of which Mr. CHAMBERLAIN might be proud, infinite occupation, and +infinite diversion; his nimbleness, his light-heartedness, his +languages, and his cigars, are inexhaustible. + +How we besiege him in the morning! "Luncheon, ADOLF, for a party +of seven, in a basket--a _nice_ basket, you know--and don't forget +the corkscrew." "Yes, yes, I know--and you take the bottle-bier--it +is much better nor the warne. Ha! Ha!" What a laugh!--a roguish, +child-like merriment of a Greek-godlike character--or want of it. +Old Ladies talk to him quite trustingly at first sight; it's "ADOLF, +_have_ you such a thing as a bottle of gum--_gummi_, gum, you +understand"; or, "_Could_ you get me another cushion"? He can, and +does. As for the children, they love him; he romps with them, and does +conjuring tricks, and warbles innumerable songs. That man gets through +more in one day than the Prime Minister of England--and, between you +and me, I believe he is fully as capable--and yet he finds time to +write a letter to his old mother at Hamburg--I have seen him do it. +Perhaps it was about the cigars! The only people who hate ADOLF are +the Under-Waiters; he rules them with a rod of iron, marshalling their +heated battalions at _table d'hôte_, and plundering them of their +sweethearts; if he breaks anything (hearts included), it is they who +have to pay. It is ADOLF's only weakness--he is a bully to underlings +of his own trade. But then he has been an Under-Waiter once himself, +and suffering brutalises; however, he is outside the sphere of +morality, and I could pardon him almost anything. + +From time to time his fascinations induce an Englishman or +Englishwoman to take this treasure home as a servant. But ADOLF in +livery, and ADOLF with his magic order-book, are two very different +people. Little things are missing; he becomes quarrelsome; the +gipsy-spirit returns--and he is off again, blithe as ever, on his +travels. "London very naice," he says, as you buy that infernal +Pestarena; "Porebier, very naise; 'Ampton Court, very naise; I know +dem, hein? But, is no sunshine, no air, no gaiety." And ADOLF cannot +exist without sunshine, air, and gaiety. Also he prefers being his own +master, which, as Head-Waiter, he practically is. + +How insinuating he is about the food, "Some naice fishes? Dey was +laiving dis morning." And then, how accommodating! I was once in the +Grand Hôtel during the usual "exceptional season," when it rained +unintermittently for a fortnight; the place was empty; "tristeful," +as ADOLF styled it. The genius played billiards with me every day, and +always won, though I rather fancy myself; and then how mindful he is +of your individual bettings. "I gif you dis place by de window--_to do +you joy_!" he ejaculates. The simple creature, he is constantly trying +to "make you please." + +I always present ADOLF with ten shillings--five on arrival, and five +on departure. This procures me many harmless little privileges; and +when old BROWN calls him an impertinent brute, I know that BROWN and +ten shillings are difficult to part. + +There is nothing ADOLF will not do for you for a sovereign--but I +cannot run to this; and yet this is the impression he has made. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A LITTLE VAGUE! + +_Affable Landlady_ (_to her new Artist Lodger_), "AND I SUPPOSE, SIR, +YOU COMES FROM ABROAD!" + +_Foreign Lodger_. "SO! I GOME VROM AUSTRIA." + +_A.L._ "DO YOU HINDEED, SIR? FROM HOSTRIA! AH! HOW THAT'S WHERE THE +HOSTRICHES COMES FROM, I SUPPOSE?!!"] + + * * * * * + +AN OLD AND NEW PEER. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--Look here! I've done good service in my time, and +no one likes to see himself deprived of an honoured title, or forced +to take a back seat. I've been trodden under-foot over and over +again--but I've borne it with fortitude, and never, never given way. +Now, what do I hear? That a Gentleman, a Government Whip, for whom I +have the highest esteem and respect, is now to assume the title which, +by right of position, place, time, and prescription, belongs to me, +and _to me only_, I can bear much, but, after so many years of devoted +service, during which, with all my opportunities, I have never once +made any attempt to leave my place to go higher up, or to go lower +down, or, in either case, to go with the tide, I cannot, and, indeed, +will not, yield my title to anyone, however good and useful to his +Party he may have been, but proudly declaring myself as good as any +"Sprig of Nobility," even as this one who cometh up as a Flower, I +beg, protestingly, to remind the world at large that I am "_Nulli +Secundus_," and _de facto et dejure_, + +THE ONLY BATTERSEA PEER. + +P.S.--Spell it with an "i" or "e," it's all one. If my "i" is put out, +and "_he_" has got in instead, that's a mere quibble or quebble. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: Cowley Lambert.] + +[Illustration: H. Campbell.] + +MEMBERS WE SHALL MISS. + +Our Old Parliamentary Artistic Hand been at it again; looking with +eyesight blurred with sorrow on familiar forms of some Members +stranded at General Election. Dismembered, and, for some time at +least, not to be remembered. COWLEY LAMBERT always been a rover. Went +Midland Circuit for short time, and having made the Circuit, made for +home. Then he accomplished "A Trip to Cashmere and Ladak." Opportunity +now for varying itinerary, and making a "Trip to Ladak and Cashmere." +Must be moving somewhere. Wrote himself down in _Dod_ "a Progressive +Conservative." Has now progressed out of sight of the Chair. This +particular CAMPBELL is neither coming nor going. He's gone. + +PULESTON seems quite pleased to find LLEWELLYN sitting there, all +unconscious of his doom. PULESTON a little astonished himself when +things went bad at Carnarvon. Only short time ago made Constable of +Castle; thought P.C. PULESTON sure to come in at head of poll; but, +"from information received," appears he didn't. + +[Illustration: E.H. Llewellyn.] + +[Illustration: Sir J.H. Puleston.] + +Observe the eye of HAVELOCK-ALLAN on the alert. He cannot see behind +his back, but instinctively knows there is an Irish Member in the +vicinity. His teeth close, his moustache curls, his eyes glare. He +once publicly, in course of debate, sat upon an Irish Member; not +metaphorically, but physically. Irish Member, when he wriggled from +under, appealed to SPEAKER on point of order. SPEAKER ruled proceeding +decidedly out of order. "But I sat on him, TOBY, dear boy," HAVELOCK +said, triumphantly; "and I shall retain the impression to end of my +life." + +[Illustration: THE GRAND OLD GARDENER.] + +[Illustration: Sir H. Havelock-Allan.] + +[Illustration: A.A. Baumann.] + +"So will he," I observed, when HAVELOCK was safe out of hearing. He +doesn't like retorts. + +The sketch of BAUMANN evidently taken at the moment he heard the +announcement of poll at North Salford. Seems to have knocked him +rather of a heap. Was known in House as Cupid's Bowman; a smart able, +useful Member, whom we shall all be glad to see back again. + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +[Illustration: A Poppylar Writer in Poppy Land.] + +"'Over the Hills and far away!' follow yours faithfully CLEMENT +SCOTT." This is the full title, and signed advice to the public given +on the frontispiece of his little shilling book published by EGLINTON. +It is dedicated to Sir EDWARD LAWSON--"right thing to do my boy!"--and +appropriately so, as if the Baron's memory runneth not to the +contrary, most if not all the articles in this author's little +holiday-book have appeared at some time or other in the _D.T._, and +do not suffer any D.T.rioration by being bound up together in this +shilling volume. It tells of a visit to Hayling, where he picked up +health, strength, and an aspirate, when he went there ailing; he tells +of Suffolk, where a branch of the Great Punchian Family is settled, +known as The Suffolk Punches; he prattles of _Honeymoon Land_, where +he met the man with seven wives, each of whom had a cat, and to each +cat there was a kit, and to each wife a kit too, it is to be hoped, +in the shape otherwise of a _trousseau_, and of many other pleasant +restful places and refreshing jaunts he tells delightfully. "But of +all the pleasant places in which his lines have fallen, commend me," +quoth the Baron,--"and the lines he has written will send many to +these pleasant places--(But O the Trippers!)--of all these give me the +_Flower Farm at Holy Vale_ and the _Valley of Ferns_." If the reader +cannot go to all the sweet resorts herein mentioned, let him be +induced by the first article to visit _Holy Vale_, and he will find +CLEMENT SCOTT an admirable guide for "the Scilly Season." Of course +our NOT-YET-DUN-SCOTUS hath visited the Cyril-Flower-Farm on the +Norfolk Coast. Advice: Stand not on the money-order of your going, but +go at once, and stop there. As to money, remember your Uncle dwells in +Poppy Land, quoth their true friend, + +THE TRAVELLED BARON DE BOOK-WORMS. + +P.S.--A youthful shootist bought the Poppyland book because he thought +that it would tell him all about where to go popping. Also a bashful +suitor was misled by the title, hoping that in Poppy Land he would +learn how to "Pop--the question." The Learned Author has not said one +word about the "weasels that go pop," which, of course, are natives of +Poppy Land. + + * * * * * + +"THE RIFT WITHIN THE LUTE." + +[Illustration] + + It surely sounds a pretty phrase, + Some pöesy for woe it wins, + Commemorating roundelays + And troubadours and mandolins: + We seem to view some minstrel-boy + Beside his shattered music mute, + The shattered string, the ruined joy-- + The Rift within the Lute. + + How swift the slip from tune to twang! + Sweets bitter grow, as aye they did; + For e'en the Roman poet sang + "_Surgit amari aliquid_." + Our pigmy worries turn us grey; + And sorrows fierce are less acute; + Our hearts are riddled every day + With Rifts within the Lute. + + You envy FORTUNATUS--rich-- + A charming bride--subservient friends. + To rival him were something which + The dream of Avarice transcends. + That charming bride a mother owns + Whom FORTUNATUS brands a brute: + She mars his life's entrancing tones-- + His Rift within the Lute! + + Then, PEREGRINE--he journeys far; + Unshackled, he by toil's routine: + By turns he quaffs a samovar + Or sherbet, as he shifts his scene. + "Strong as a horse!"--ah! there's the string + That snaps asunder--"to recruit." + He wanders, manufacturing + A Rift within his Lute. + + And DULCINEA! What a life! + Adoring crowds, adornments rare + And many fain to call her wife, + And sue her smiles in Belgrave Square. + And yet her Fetch-and-carry swears + He heard her, while he pressed his suit, + Sigh, "Bored to desperation!"--there's + A Rift within that Lute. + + What need more trivial ills to quote, + The freshly-furnished house that shines, + The coxcomb's fashionable coat, + Both brushed and polished "to the nines," + Both yielding to some fatal flaw; + A crack; a fiend who plays the flute; + Both, both examples of the law + Of Rift within the Lute. + + Whate'er the dulcet instrument + We favour, still the lilt will stop; + And with a gorgeous chalice blent + Oft lurks the tiny poisoned drop. + I'm not so spry myself to-night; + I'll try a dose of arrowroot. + You'll own that Indigestion's quite + A Rift in any Lute! + + * * * * * + +"WALKER ART GALLERY."--Show commences this week at Liverpool. _The_ +WALKER was a Genius. But is this show all "Walker," or the genuine +article? Has Mr. J.L. TOOLE, of _Walker, London_, anything to do with +it? No doubt it's quite "'O.K.' WALKER, Liverpool." + + * * * * * + +POLITICAL PRIZE RING RIDDLE.--Why was the win of the Gladstonian Party +at Newcastle like the triumph of a single-fisted pugilist over +his two-handed opponent? Because the victory was achieved with one +"MORLEY." + + * * * * * + +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. +103, September 3, 1892, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 15166-8.txt or 15166-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/1/6/15166/ + +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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