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diff --git a/15366.txt b/15366.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2de4796 --- /dev/null +++ b/15366.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1685 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 103, +Sep. 24, 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, Sep. 24, 1892 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: March 15, 2005 [EBook #15366] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + +PUNCH, + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 103. + + + +September 24, 1892. + + + + +'ARRY AT 'ARRYGATE. + +[Illustration] + + DEAR CHARLIE,--Rum mix this 'ere world is, yer never know _wot_'ll + come next! + Don't emagine I've sent yer a sermon, and treacle this out as my + text; + But really life's turn-ups are twisters. You lay out for larks, + 'ealth, and tin, + But whenever you think it's "a moral," that crock, "Unexpected," + romps in. + + Who'd ha' thought of _me_ jacking up suddent, and giving the + Sawbones a turn? + Who'd ha' pictered _me_ "Taking the Waters"? Ah! CHARLIE, 'twos + hodds on the Urn + With Yours Truly, this time, I essure you. I fancied as + Tot'nam-Court Road + Would he trying its 'and on my tombstone afore the green corn wos + full growed. + + _Bad_, CHARLIE? You bet! 'Twas screwmatics and liver, old Pill-box + declared. + Knocked me slap orf my perch, fair 'eels uppards. I tell you I + felt a bit scared, + And it left me a yaller-skinned skelinton, weak, and, wot's wus, + stoney-broke. + If it hadn't a bin for my nunky, your pal might have jest done a + croak. + + Uncle NOBBS, a Cat's-butcher at Clapton, who's bin in luck's way, + and struck ile, + Is dead nuts on Yours Truly. Old josser, and grumpy, but _he_'s + made his pile. + Saw me settin' about in the garden, jest like a old saffron-gill'd + ghost + A-waiting for cock-crow to 'ook it, and hanxious to 'ear it--a'most. + + Sez he, "Wy, the boy is a bone-bag! Wot's that? Converlescent? Oh, + fudge! + He's a slipping his cable, and drifting out sea-wards, if _I_'m + any judge. + I was ditto some twenty year back, BOB, and 'Arrygate fust set + _me_ up. + Wot saved the old dog, brother ROBERT, may probably suit the young + pup. + + "Carn't _afford_ it? O'course yer carn't, JENNY; but--thanks be to + 'orse-flesh--_I_ can--" + Well, he tipped us a fifty-quid crisp 'un--and ROOSE sent me 'ere; + he's _my_ Man! + Three weeks' "treatment"! Well, threes into fifty means cutting a + bit of a dash; + Good grub, nobby togs, local doctor, baths, waters, and everythink + flash. + + "'Appy 'ARRY!" sez you. But way-oh, CHARLIE! 'Arrygate isn't all + jam. + _Me_ jolly? Well, mate, if you arsk me, I carn't 'ardly say as I + ham. + To spread myself out with the toppers is proper, no doubt, bonny + boy; + But--I wish it wos Brighton, or Margit, or somewheres a chap could + _enjoy_. + + Oh, them "Waters," old man!!! S'elp me never! yer don't kow wot + nastyness _is_ + Till you've tried "Sulphur 'ot and strong," fasting. The Kissing + Gin, taken a-fizz, + Isn't _wus_ than ditch-water and sherbet; but Sulphur!!! It's + eased my game leg; + But I go with my heart in my mouth, and I feel like a blooming bad + hegg. + + B-r-r-r-r! Beastliness isn't the word, CHARLIE. Language seems out + of it, slap. + When I took my fust twelve ounces 'ot, from a gal with a snowy + white cap, + And cheeks like a blush-rose for bloominess--well, I'm a gent, + but, yah-hah! + I jest did a guy at the double, without even nodding ta-ta! + + Where the Primrose Path leads to, my pippin, I'm cocksure can't + 'ave a _wus_ smell. + Like bad eggs, salt, and tenpenny nails biled in bilge water. + Eugh! Old Pump Well? + Wy then let well alone, is my motter, or leastways, it would be, + I'm sure, + But for BLACK--local doctor, a stunner!--who's got me in 'and for + a cure. + + I'm not nuts on baths took _too_ reglar; but 'Arrygate baths ain't + 'arf bad, + When you git a bit used to 'em, CHARLIE. I squirmed, though fust + off, dear old lad! + They so soused, and so slapped, and so squirted me. Messing a + feller about + Don't come nicer for calling it _massage_. But there, it's O.K. + I've no doubt. + + They squat you upon a low shelf, with a sort of a water-can "rose" + At the nape of yer neck, while a feller in front squirts yer down + with a 'ose. + He slaps you as though you wos batter, he kneads you as if you wos + dough, + And gives yer wot for on the spine, till you git in a doose of a + glow. + + Then you're popped in a big iron cage, where the 'ose plays upon + you like fun; + A lawn, or a house a-fire, CHARLIE, could not be more thoroughly + done. + Sez I, "I'm _insured_, dontcher know, mate; so don't _waste_ the + water, d'ye 'ear?" + But he didn't appear to arf twig. He seemed jest a bit thick in + the clear. + + Then the bars of yer cage bustes out like a lot of scent fountings + a-play-- + 'Taint _oder colong_, though, by hodds; sulphur strong seems the + local _bokay_. + They call this the "Needle Bath," CHARLIE. It give _me_ the needle + fust off; + 'Cos the spray would git into my eyes, and the squelch made me + sputter and cough. + + Then they wrop you well up in 'ot towels, and leave yer five + minutes to bake, + And that's the "_Aix Douche_," as they call it. _I_ call it the + funniest fake + In the way of a bath I 'ave met with; but, bless yer, it passes + the time, + And _I_ shan't want a tub for a fortnit when back in Old + Babbylon's grime. + + Dull 'ole, this 'ere 'Arrygate, CHARLIE! The only fair fun _I_ can + find + Is watching the poor sulphur-swiggers, a-gargling and going it + blind. + Oh, the sniffs and sour faces, old fellow, the shudders and + shivers, and sighs; + The white lips a-working like rabbits', the sheepish blue-funk in + their eyes! + + Old Pump Room's a hoctygon building, rum blend like of chapel and + bar, + With a big stained-glass winder one side, hallygorical subject! So + far + As I've yet made it out, it's a hangel a-stirring up somethink + like suds. + "A-troubling the waters," I 'eard from a party in clerical duds. + + You arsk, like you do at a bar, for the speeches of lotion you want. + _Some_ say; you git used to the flaviour, and _like it_! Bet long + hodds _I_ shan't. + I've sampled the lot, my dear CHARLIE, Strong Sulphur and Mild, + Cold _and_ 'Ot; + And all I can say is, the jossers who say it ain't beastly talk rot. + + You jest fox their faces! They enters, looks round, gives a shy + sort of sniff, + Seem to contemplate doing a guy, brace their legs, keep their + hupper lips stiff; + Take their tickets, walk up to the counter, assumin' a sham sort + of bounce, + And ask, shame-faced like, for their gargle, 'as p'r'aps is a 'ot + sixteen hounce. + + When they git it, a-fume in a tumbler, a-smelling like hegg-chests + gone wrong, + They squirm, ask the snowy-capped gurl, "Is _this_ right?"--"Yes, + Sir. Sixteen ounce, strong!" + Sez the minx with a cold kind o' smile. "Ah--h--h! _per_cisely!" + they smirks, and walks round, + With this "Yorkshire Stinko" in their 'ands--and their 'earts in + their mouths I'll be bound. + + Then--Gulp! Oh Gewillikins, CHARLIE! it gives yer the ditherums, + it do. + Bad enough if you 'ave to wolf _one_, but it fair gives yer beans + when 'tis _two_. + The wictims waltz round, looking white, wishing someone would just + spill _their_ wet, + And--there's 'ardly a glass "returned empty" but wot shows its + 'eel-taps, you bet! + + This is "Taking the Waters" at 'Arrygate! Well, I shall soon take + my 'ook. + Speshal Scotch, at my favourite pub, from that sparkling young + dona, NELL COOK, + Will do me a treat arter this, mate, and come most pertikler A 1. + 'Ow I long to be back in "The Village," dear boy, with its bustle + and fun! + + Still, the air 'ere's as fresh as they make it, and gives yer a + doose of a peck, + And DUNSING, the Boss at "The Crown," does yer proper. I came 'ere + a wreck; + But sulphur, sound sleep, and cool breezes, prime prog, and good + company tells; + So 'ere's bully for 'Arrygate, CHARLIE, in spite of rum baths and + bad smells. + + That Fifty is nearly played out, and my slap at the Ebor went + wrong-- + I'd a Yorkshire tyke's tip, too, old man; but I'm stoney, though + still "going strong" + (As _Lord Arthur_ remarks in the play), so no more at "The Crown" + I must tarry, + But if 'Arrygate wants a good word--as to 'ealth--it shall 'ave it + from + +'ARRY. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE FIGHTING "FOUDROYANT."] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "TWO'S COMPANY." + +_Newspaper Boy_ (_suddenly, at window_). "WANT AN _OBSERVER_, +CAPTAIN?" + +_Mathilde_ (_on Honeymoon Trip_). "OH, FREDDIE, DEAR! NO! NO!! _DO_ +LET US BE QUITE ALONE!"] + + * * * * * + +THE FIGHTING "FOUDROYANT" + +BEING TUGGED TO ITS LAST BERTH--IN A SHIPBREAKER'S YARD. + +(_A THEME FROM TURNER TREATED IN MODERN BRITISH STYLE, WITH APOLOGIES +TO THE PATRIOTIC PAINTER OF "THE FIGHTING 'TEMERAIRE.'"_) + + "Mayhap you have heard, that as dear as their lives, + All true-hearted Tars love their ships and their wives." + So DIBDIN declared, and he spoke for the Tar; + He knew Jack so well, both in peace and in war! + But hang it! times change, and 'tis sad to relate, + The old Dibdinish morals seem quite out of date; + Stick close to your ship, lads, like pitch till you die?-- + That sounds nonsense to-day, and I'll tell ye for why. + + The good old _Foudroyant_--how memory dwells on + Those brave fighting names!--was once flag-ship to NELSON. + But NELSON, you know, died a good while ago, + And his flag-ship has gone a bit shaky, and so + JOHN BULL, who's now full of low shopkeeping cares, + And thinks more of the Stocks than of naval affairs, + Regards not "Old Memories," that "eat off their head." + Turn old cracks out to grass? No, let's sell 'em instead! + + A ship's like the high-mettled racer once sung + By that same dashing DIBDIN of patriot tongue, + Grown aged, used up, is he honoured? No, zounds! + "The high-mettled racer is sold to the hounds!" + And so with a barky of glorious name, + (It is business, of course--_and a Thundering Shame!_) + Worn out, she is nought but spars, timbers and logs, + And so, like the horse, should be sold--to the dogs! + + As for the _Foudroyant_, the vessel was trim + When it fought with the French, for JOHN BULL, under _Him_, + The Star of the Nile. Yes, it carried _his_ flag, + When it captured the Frenchman. There's no need to brag, + Or to say swagger things of a generous foe. + Besides, things have doosedly altered, you know. + _We_'re no more like NELSON than I to a Merman; + _We_ can sell his flag-ship for firewood, to the German! + + Sounds nice, does it not? If that great one-armed Shade + Could look down on the bargain he'd--swear, I'm afraid + (If his death-purged bold spirit held yet ought of earth). + And I fancy 'twill move the gay Frenchman to mirth + To hear this last story of shop-keeping JOHN-- + Or his huckster officials. The Frenchman, the Don, + The Dutchman, all foes we have licked,--may wax bold + When they hear that the brave old _Foudroyant_ is--Sold!!! + + Great TURNER has pictured the old _Temeraire_ + Tugged to _her_ last berth. Why the sun and the air + In that soul-stirring canvas, seem fired with the glory + Of such a brave ship, with so splendid a story! + Well, look on that picture, my lads, and on _this_! + And--no, do not crack out a curse like a hiss, + But with stout CONAN DOYLE--_he_ has passion and grip!-- + Demand that they give us back NELSON's old Ship! + + British hands from protecting her who shall debar? + Ne'er ingratitude lurked in the heart of a Tar. + "(Sings DIBDIN) That Ship from the breakers to save" + Is the plainest of duties e'er put on the brave. + While a rag, or a timber, or spar, she can boast, + A place of prime honour on Albion's coast + Should be hers and the _Victory's!_ Let us not say, + Like the fish-hucksters, "_Memories_ are cheap, Sir, to-day!" + + * * * * * + +ECCLESIASTICAL TASTE.--A condiment not much in favour with High +Churchmen just now, must be "Worcester Sauce." It is warranted to +neutralise the very highest flavour. + + * * * * * + +IMPROMPTU. + + Of "garnered leaves" + And "garnered sheaves" + Sing sentimental donkeys. + + Perhaps e'er long + Their simple song + Will be of Garnered Monkeys! + + * * * * * + +"A railway from Joppa to Jerusalem" sounds like a Scriptural Line. In +future, "going to Jericho" will not imply social banishment, as the +party sent thither will be able to take a return-ticket. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: OF MALICE AFORETHOUGHT. + +_Cheery Official._ "ALL FIRST CLASS 'ERE, PLEASE?" + +_Degenerate Son of the Vikings_ (_in a feeble voice_). "_FIRST CLASS?_ +NOW DO I _LOOK IT_?"] + + * * * * * + +THE LAY OF THE LAST KNIGHT. + + My name and style are ELLIS ASHMEAD BART-- + Ah! happy augury. Would I could + Leave it so. But 'twill not do. + Like soap of Monkey brand, + It will not wash clothes, + Or, in truth, ought else. + 'Tis but an accident of rhythm + Born of the imperative mood that makes one + Start a poem of this kind on ten feet, + Howe'er it may thereafter crawl or soar. + What I really was about to remark was that + My name and style are ELLIS ASHMEAD BART- + LETT, Knight; late Civil Lord of Admiralty + You know me. I come from Sheffield; at least + I did on my return thence + Upon re-election. + +II. + + A sad world this, my masters, as someone-- + Was it my friend SHAKSPEARE?-- + Says. The sadness arises upon reflection, not + That I'm a Knight, but that I am, so to speak, + A Knight of only two letters. + As thus--Kt. 'Tis but a glimmer of a night, + If I, though sore at heart, may dally with + The English tongue + And make a pensive pun. + +III. + + Of course I expected different things from + The MARKISS. + What's the use, what's the purpose, + Of what avail, wherefore, + That a man should descend from the + Spacious times of ELIZABETH with nothing + In his hand other than a simple Knighthood? + Anyone could do that. + It might be done to anyone. + He, him, all, any, both, certain, few, + Many, much, none, one, other, another. + One another, several, some, such and whole. + Why, he made a Knight + At the same time, + In the same manner, + Of + MAPLE + BLUNDELL! + +IV. + + Look here, MARKISS, you know, + This won't do. + It may pass in a crowd, but not with + ELLIS ASHMEAD BART-- + (There it is again. Evidently doesn't matter + About the feet) + LETT. + +V. + + And yet MARKISS, mine, + I shall not despair. + You are somewhat out of it + At the present moment. + And I am not sure-- + Not gorged with certainty-- + That Mr. G. would be + Inclined to make amends. + He is old; he is aged. + Prejudice lurks amid + His scant white locks, + And forbids the stretch- + Ing forth of generous hand in whose + Recesses coyly glint + The Bart. or K.C.B. + +VI. + + But you are not everyone; + Nor is he. Nor do both together + In the aggregate + Compose the great globe + And all that therein is. + I'll wait awhile, possessing my soul in + Patience. + Everything comes to the man who waits. + (Sometimes, 'tis true, 'tis the bobby + Who asks what he's loafing there for, + And bids him + Move on. + That is a chance the brave resolute soul + Faces.) The pity of it is + That you, MARKISS, having so much to give, + So little gave + To + Me. + +VII. + + Oh, MARKISS! MARKISS! + Had I but served my GLADSTONE + As I have served thee, + He would not have forsak-- + But that's another story. + + * * * * * + +THE NEW HOPERA OF 'ADDON 'ALL.--The title finally decided upon for the +SULLIVAN-GRUNDY Opera is _Haddon Hall_. Lovely for 'ARRY! "'Ave you +seen _'Addon 'All_?" Then the 'ARRY who 'as only 'eard a portion of +it, will say, "I _'addn_'t 'eard _'all._" As a Cockney title, it's +perfect. Successful or not, Author and Composer will congratulate +themselves that, to deserve, if not command success, they _'ad don +all_ they knew. If successful, they'll replace the aspirates, and it +will be some time before they recover the exact date when they Had-don +Hauling in the coin. _Prosit!_ + + * * * * * + +MISCARRIAGE OF JUSTICE.--Says the _Pall Mall Gazette_:--"For knocking +over a man selling watercress, with fatal results, a Hammersmith +cabman has been committed for trial for manslaughter." If this is +true, the HOME SECRETARY should immediately interpose. The action +of knocking a man over is hasty, and may be indefensible. But if +the Hammersmith Cabman had just grounds for belief that the man +was "selling watercresses with fatal results," he should rather be +commended than committed for trial. + + * * * * * + +"KEEPING-UP THE CHRISTOPHER."--(_A Note from an Old +Friend_).--"CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS" indeed! As years ago I told _Sairey +Gamp_ about her bothering _Mrs. Harris_, "I don't believe there's no +sich a person." That's what I says, says I, about COLUMBUS, wich ain't +like any other sort of "bus" as I see before my blessed eyes every +day. + +Yours, ELIZABETH PRIG. + +P.S.--Mr. EDWIN JOHNSON, him as wrote to the _Times_ last Saturday, is +of my opinion. Good Old JOHNSON! + + * * * * * + +"HONORIS CAUSA."--To Mr. GRANVILLE MONEY, son of the Rector of +Weybridge, whose gallant rescue of a lady from drowning has recently +been recorded, _Mr. Punch_ grants the style and title of "Ready +MONEY." + + * * * * * + +QUESTION AND ANSWER.--"Why don't I write Plays?" Why should I? + + * * * * * + +LETTERS TO ABSTRACTIONS. + +NO. XV.--TO SWAGGER. + +[Illustration] + +Not long ago I reminded you of CHEPSTOWE, the incomparable poet who +was at one time supposed to have revolutionised the art of verse. +Now he is forgotten, the rushlight which he never attempted to +hide under the semblance of a bushel, has long since nickered its +last, his boasts, his swelling literary port, his quarrels, his +affectations--over all of them the dark waves of oblivion have passed +and blotted them from the sand on which he had traced them. But in his +day, as you remember, while yet he held his head high and strutted +in his panoply, he was a man of no small consequence. Quite an army +of satellites moved with him, and did his bidding. To one of them +he would say, "Praise me this author," and straightway the fire of +eulogy would begin. To another he would declare--and this was his more +frequent course--"So-and-so has dared to hint a fault in one of us; +he has hesitated an offensive dislike. Let him be scarified," and +forthwith the painted and feathered young braves drew forth their axes +and scalping-knives, and the work of slaughter went merrily forward. +Youth, modesty, honest effort, genuine merit, a manifest desire to +range apart from the loud storms of literary controversy, these were +no protection to the selected victim. And of course the operations of +the Chepstowe-ites, like the "plucking" imagined by _Major Pendennis_, +were done in public. For they had their organ. Week by week in _The +Metropolitan Messenger_ they disburdened themselves, each one of his +little load of spite and insolence and vanity, and with much loud +shouting and blare of adulatory trumpets called the attention of the +public to their heap of purchasable rubbish. There lived at this time +a great writer, whose name and fame are still revered by all who love +strong, nervous English, vivid description, and consummate literary +art. He stood too high for attack. Only in one way could the herd +of passionate prigs who waited on CHEPSTOWE do him an injury. They +could attempt, and did, to imitate his style in their own weekly +scribblings. _Corruptio optimi pessima_. There is no other phrase +that describes so well the result of these imitative efforts. All the +little tricks of the great man's humour were reproduced and defaced, +the clear stream of his sentences was diverted into muddy channels, +the airy creatures of his imagination were weighted with lead and made +to perform hideous antics. Never had there been so riotous a jargon +of distorted affectation and ponderous balderdash. Smartness--of a +sort--these gentlemen, no doubt, possessed. It is easy to be accounted +smart in a certain circle, if only you succeed in being insolent. +Merit of this order the band could boast of plenteously. + +One peculiarity, too, must be noted in _The Metropolitan Messenger_. +It had a magnetic attraction for all the sour and sorry failures whose +reputation and income, however greatly in excess of their deserts, +had not equalled their expectation. The Cave of Adullam could not have +been more abundantly stocked with discontent. It is the custom of the +_rates_ everywhere to attempt to prevent, or, if that be impossible, +to decry success in others, in order to exalt themselves. The +"Metropolitans" followed the example of many unillustrious +predecessors, though it must, in justice, be added, that they would +have been shocked to hear anyone impute to them a want of originality +in their curious methods. In the counsels of these literary bravos, +WILLIAM GRUBLET held a high place. At the University, where he had +pursued a dull and dingy career of modified respectability, not much +was thought or spoken of GRUBLET. If he was asked what profession he +proposed to adopt, he would wink knowingly, and reply, "Journalism." +It sounded well--it gave an impression of influence, and future power, +and, moreover, it committed him to nothing. It is just as easy to say +"Journalism," in answer to the stock question, as it is to deliver +yourself over, by anticipation, to the Bar, the Church, or the Stock +Exchange. Hundreds of young men at both our ancient Universities +look upon Journalism as the easiest and most attractive of all the +professions. In the first place there are no Examinations to bar +the way, and your ordinary Undergraduate loathes an Examination as +a rat may be supposed to loathe a terrier. What can be easier--in +imagination--than to dash off a leading article, a biting society +sketch, a scathing review, to overturn ancient idols, to inaugurate +movements, to plan out policies? All this GRUBLET was confident +of being able to do, and he determined, on the strength of a few +successful College Essays, and a reputation for smartness, acquired +at the expense of his dwindling circle of intimates, to do it. He +took his degree, and plunged into London. There, for a time, he was +lost to public sight. But I know that he went through the usual +contest. Rejected manuscripts poured back into his room. Polite, +but unaccommodating Editors, found that they had no use for vapid +imitations of ADDISON, or feeble parodies of CHARLES LAMB. Literary +appreciations, that were to have sent the ball of fame spinning up the +hill of criticism, grew frowsy and dog's-eared with many postages to +and fro. + +In this protracted struggle with fate and his own incompetence, the +nature of GRUBLET, never a very amiable one, became fatally soured, +and when he finally managed to secure a humble post on a newspaper, he +was a disappointed man with rage in his heart against his successful +rivals and against the Editors who, as he thought, had maliciously +chilled his glowing aspirations. His vanity, however,--and he was +always a very vain man--had suffered no diminution, and with the +first balmy breezes of success his arrogance grew unbounded. Shortly +afterwards, he chanced to come in the way of CHEPSTOWE; he impressed +the poet favourably, and in the result he was selected for a place +on the staff of _The Metropolitan Messenger_, then striving by every +known method to battle its way into a circulation. + +It was at this stage in his career that I met GRUBLET. He was pointed +out to me as a young man of promise who had a trenchant style, and had +lately written an article on "Provincialism in Literature," which had +caused some stir by its bitter and uncompromising attacks upon certain +well-known authors and journalists. I looked at the man with some +interest. I saw a pale-faced, sandy-haired little creature with a +shuffling, weak-kneed gait, who looked as if a touch from a moderately +vigorous arm would have swept him altogether out of existence. +His manner was affected and unpleasant, his conversation the most +disagreeable I ever listened to. He was coarse, not with an ordinary +coarseness, but with a kind of stale, fly-blown coarseness as of +the viands in the window of a cheap restaurant. He assumed a great +reverence for RABELAIS and ARISTOPHANES; he told shady stories, +void of point and humour, which you were to suppose were modelled +on the style of these two masters. And all the time he gave you to +understand, with a blatant self-sufficiency, that he himself was one +of the greatest and most formidable beings in existence. This was +GRUBLET as I first knew him, and so he continued to the end. + +The one thing this puny creature could never forgive was that any +of his friends should pass him in the race. There was one whom +GRUBLET--the older of the two--had at one time honoured with his +patronage and approval. No sooner, however, had the younger gained a +literary success, than the sour GRUBLET turned upon him, and rent him. +"This fellow," said GRUBLET, "will get too uppish--I must show up his +trash"; and accordingly he fulminated against his friend in the organ +that he had by that time come to consider as his own. This baseless +sense of proprietorship, in fact, it was that wrecked GRUBLET. In an +evil moment for himself he tried to ride rough-shod over CHEPSTOWE, +and that temporary genius dismissed him with a promptitude that should +stand to his credit against many shortcomings. GRUBLET, I believe, +still exists. Occasionally, in obscure prints, I seem to detect traces +of his style. But no one now pays any attention to him. His claws +are clipped, his teeth have been filed down. He shouts and struts, +unregarded. For we live, of course, in milder and more reasonable +days, and the GRUBLETS can no longer find a popular market for their +wares. + +Only one question remains. How in the world can even you, oh respected +SWAGGER, have derived any pleasure from witnessing the performances +that GRUBLET went through, after you had persuaded him that he was +a man of some importance? I do not expect an answer, and remain as +before, + +DIOGENES ROBINSON. + + * * * * * + +IN BANCO.--The stability of the concern having been effectually proved +by the way in which the Birkbeckers got out of the fire and out of the +trying pan-ic, and the ease with which they were quite at home to the +crowds of callers coming to inquire after their health, should earn +for them the subsidiary title of the Birk-beck-and-call Bank. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A GOOD BEGINNING. + +_Uncle Jack_ (_Umpire_). "LOVE ALL!" + +_Monsieur le Baron_. "LOVE ALL? PARBLEU! JE CROIS BIEN! ZEY ARE +_ADORABLES_, YOUR NIECES!"] + + * * * * * + +PAN THE POSTER. + +(_A MODERN PERVERSION OF MRS. BROWNING'S POWERFUL POEM, "A MUSICAL +INSTRUMENT."_) + + ["We are presented just now with two spectacles, which may + help us to take modest and diffident views of the progress of + the species.... At home there is an utterly unreasonable and + unaccountable financial panic among the depositors in the + Birkbeck Bank, while in America the free and enlightened + democracy of a portion of New York State has suddenly relapsed + into primitive barbarism under the influence of fear of + cholera."--_The Times_.] + + What is he doing, our new god Pan, + Far from the reeds and the river? + Spreading mischief and scattering ban, + Screening 'neath "knickers" his shanks of a goat, + And setting the wildest rumours afloat, + To set the fool-mob a-shiver. + + He frightened the shepherds, the old god Pan,[1] + Him of the reeds by the river; + Afeared of his faun-face, Arcadians ran; + Unsoothed by the pipes he so deftly could play, + The shepherds and travellers scurried away + From his face by forest or river. + + And back to us, sure, comes the great god Pan, + With his pipes from the reeds by the river; + Starting a scare, as the goat-god can, + Making a Man a mere wind-swayed reed, + And moving the mob like a leaf indeed + By a chill wind set a-quiver. + + He finds it sport, does our new god Pan + (As did he of the reeds by the river), + To take all the pith from the heart of a man, + To make him a sheep--though a tiger in spring,-- + A cruel, remorseless, poor, cowardly thing, + With the whitest of cheeks--and liver! + + "Who said I was dead?" laughs the new god Pan + (Laughs till his faun-cheeks quiver), + "I'm still at my work, on a new-fangled plan. + Scare is my business; I think I succeed, + When the Mob at my minstrelsy shakes like a reed, + And I mock, as the pale fools shiver." + + Shrill, shrill, shrill, O Pan! + Your Panic-pipes, far from the river! + Deafening shrill, O Poster-Pan! + Turning a man to a timorous brute + With irrational fear. From your frantic flute + Good sense our souls deliver! + + Men rush like the Gadaree swine, O Pan! + With contagious fear a-shiver, + They flock like _Panurge's_ poor sheep, O Pan! + What, what shall the merest of manhood quicken + In geese gregarious, panic-stricken + Like frighted fish in the river. + + You sneer at the shame of them, Poster-Pan, + Poltroons of the pigeon-liver. + Your placards gibbet them, Poster-Pan, + Who crowd like curs in the cowardly crush, + Who flock like sheep in the brainless rush + With fear or greed a-shiver. + + You are half a beast, O new god Pan! + To laugh (as you laughed by the river) + Making a brute-beast out of a man: + The true gods sigh for the cost and pain + Of Civilisation, which seems but vain + When the prey of your Panic shiver! + +[Footnote 1: Pan, the Arcadian forest and river-god, was held to +startle travellers by his sudden and terror-striking appearances. +Hence sudden fright, without any visible cause, was ascribed to Pan, +and called a Panic fear.] + + * * * * * + +SIR GEORGE AND THE DRAG ON. + +_BY A WRITER OF BOOKS._ + + [Sir GEORGE TREVELYAN, speaking to the Institute of + Journalists, said that "No one was under the obligation of + writing books, unless he was absolutely called to do so by a + commanding genius."] + + Oh! tell me quickly--not if Planet Mars + Is quite the best for journalistic pars, + Not if the cholera will play Old Harry, + Not why to-day young men don't and won't marry-- + For these I do not care. Not to dissemble, + My pen is, as they say, "all of a tremble"-- + The pen that once enthralled the myriad crowd, + The pen that critics one and all allowed + Wrote pleasantly and well, was often funny, + The pen that brought renown, and--better--money. + My pen is stilled. That happy time is o'er, + Like that old English King, I smile no more. + Now that Sir (Secretary) GEORGE has spoken, + My fortunes (and alas! my heart) are broken; + For though I may not lack all understanding, + My "genius" cannot claim to be "commanding." + + * * * * * + +FLOWERY, BUT NOT MEALY-MOUTHED.--To those who suggested that sending +troops to compel the barbarous Long-Islanders to be humane would lose +Democratic votes, Governor FLOWER is reported to have replied,--"I +don't care a ---- for votes. I am going to put law-breakers down, and +the State in possession of its property." There was an old song, of +which the refrain was, "I don't care a ---- for the people, But what +will the Governor say?" Now we know what the Governor says. 'Tis well +said. Henceforth he will be known as _The_ FLOWER of Speech. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: PAN THE POSTER. + +PAN (_chuckling_). "HA! HA! WHO SAID THAT I WAS DEAD, AND PANIC-FEAR A +THING OF THE ARCADIAN PAST?"] + + * * * * * + +SEA-SIDE ILLS. + +(_BY OUR MAN OVER-BORED._) + +A SEA S-IDYLL ON "BOARD AND RESIDENCE." + + That we hurry out of Town + To the sea, + To be properly done brown, + I'll agree; + But of being nicely done, + There's another way than one-- + Viz., the _rays_, besides of sun, + _L_ s. d.! + + Now, it may be very cheap + For the chap + Who is rich, to pay a heap + For a nap + On a sofa that is prone + To a prominence of bone, + Or a table undergrown, + With a flap; + + But a man who has not much + Of the pelf + To distribute freely, such + As myself, + And who's ordered change and rest, + Doubts the change is for the best + When he has to lie undress'd + On a shelf! + + No; to slumber on a slant + Till you're floor'd, + Is a luxury I can't + Well afford; + And I'm sad to a degree + That, in Everywhere-on-Sea, + "Board and Residence" should be + Mostly _board_! + + * * * * * + +"DISCOVERY OF A NEW SATELLITE TO JUPITER."--Well, why not? Why +announce it as if a noted thief had been arrested? "Discovered! Aha! +Then this to decide"--cries the Melodramatic Satellite. Poor Jupiter +must be uncommonly tired of his old Satellites by this time! How +pleased, how delighted, he must be to welcome a new one! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: VIEW OF "MARS" AS SEEN THROUGH MR. PUNCH'S TELESCOPE.] + + * * * * * + +MORE LIGHTS! + +[Illustration: A Straight Tip and a New Sensation.] + +When anyone now in town requires a change from the _De_-lights of +Home, let him go to _See Lights of Home_ at the Adelphi. Great scene +of the Wreck not so great perhaps as some previous sensational Adelphi +effects. In such a piece as "the Lights," it is scarcely fair that +"the Heavies" should have it nearly all to themselves, but so it is, +and the two Light Comedy parts capitally played by Miss JECKS and Mr. +LIONEL RIGNOLD, do not get much of a chance against the heartrending +sorrows of Miss EVELYN MILLARD, and of Mrs. PATRICK CAMPBELL, the +slighted, or sea-lighted heroine, known as "Dave's Daughter" (oh, +how fond Mr. W.A. ELLIOTT must be of _Dave Purvis_, the weakest +sentimentalist-accidental-lunatic-criminal that ever was let off +scot-free at R.H. first entrance before the fall of the Curtain), +and the undaunted heroism and unblushing villany of Messrs. CHARLES +DALTON, COCKBUKN, KINGSTON & Co. The title might well have been, _Good +Lights of Home, and Wicked Livers all Abroad_. + + * * * * * + +"TOP-DRESSING."--Said Mr. G. to a Welsh audience, "I might as well +address the top of Snowdon on the subject of the Establishment, as +address you on the matter." Flattery! The top of Snowdon, of course, +represented the highest intelligence in Wales. + + * * * * * + +"I pity the poor Investors!" exclaimed Mrs. R. sympathetically, when +she saw the heading of a paragraph in the _Times_--"Bursting of a +Canal Bank." + + * * * * * + +A BIG BOOMING CHANCE LOST!--Miss LOTTIE COLLINS, according to the +_Standard's_ report of the proceedings on board the unfortunate +_Cepheus_, said that, on seeing two jeering men rowing out from shore, +holding up bread to the hungry passengers, she, "had she been a +man, would have shot them." She wasn't a man, and so the two brutes +escaped. But what another "_Boom! te-ray,--Ta, ra, ra_," &c., &c., +this would have been for LA COLLINS! + + * * * * * + +NOT IMPROBABLE.--Lord ROSEBERY might have ended his diplomatic reply +to Mr. THOMAS GIBSON BOWLES, M.F., who recently sent kind inquiries +to the Foreign Office, as to the Pamirs and Behring Sea, Canadian +Government, &c., &c., with a P.S. to the effect that "his +correspondent probably considered him as a Jack (in office), and +therefore a legitimate object to score off in the game of BOWLES." + + * * * * * + +_The Prodigal Daughter; or, The Boyne-Water Jump_, by DRURIOLANUS +MAGNUS and PETTITT PARVUS, was produced with greatest success, last +Saturday, at Old Drury. The general recommendation to the authors will +be, as a matter of course, i.e., of race-course, given in the historic +words of DUCROW, "Cut the cackle and come to the 'osses." When this +advice is acted upon, _The Prodigal Daughter_, a very fine young +woman, but not particularly prodigal, will produce receipts beyond all +cacklelation. + + * * * * * + +FUTURE LEGISLATION FOR NEXT SESSION.--Mr. GLADSTONE will introduce a +Bill to render criminal the keeping of heifers loose in a field. + + * * * * * + +BY A PARAGRAPHIC JOURNALIST.--Very natural that there should be "pars" +about "Mars." + + * * * * * + +"SIGNAL FAILURES."--Most Railway Accidents. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: CULTURE BY THE SEA. + +"HAVE YOU BROWNING'S WORKS?" + +"NO, MISS. THEY'RE TOO DIFFICULT. PEOPLE DOWN HERE DON'T UNDERSTAND +THEM." + +"HAVE YOU _PRAED_?" + +"PRAYED, MISS? OH YES; WE'VE TRIED THAT, BUT IT'S NO USE!"] + + * * * * * + +THE CHATEAU D'"IF." + + The Castle that I sing, is not + The strong-hold _pres Marseilles_, + Where _Monte Christo_ brewed his plot + For DUMAS' magic tale: + It's one we all inhabit oft, + The residence of most, + And not peculiar to the soft, + Mediterranean coast. + + The Castle "If"--If pigs had wings, + If wishes horses were, + If, rather more substantial things, + My Castles in the air; + If balances but grew on Banks, + If Brokers hated "bluff;" + If Editors refrained from thanks + And printed all my stuff. + + If holidays were not a time + Beyond a chap's control, + When someone else prescribes how I'm + To bore my selfish soul; + If bags and boxes packed themselves + For one who packing loathes; + If babes, expensive little elves, + Were only born with clothes + + If _Bradshaw_ drove me to the train! + Were _mal-de-mer_ a name! + If organ-grinders ground a strain + That never, never came; + If oysters stuck at eighteen pence; + If ladies loathed "The Stores;" + If Tax-collectors had the sense + To overlook my doors! + + If sermons stopped themselves to suit + A congregation's pain; + If everyone who played the flute + Were sentenced to be slain; + If larks with truffles sang on trees, + If cooks were made in heaven; + And if, at sea-side spots, the seas + Shut up from nine till seven. + + If _I_ might photograph the fiend + Who mauls me with his lens, + If supercilious barbers leaned + Their heads for _me_ to cleanse! + If weather blushed to wreck my plans, + If tops were never twirled; + If "Ifs and ands were pots and pans,"-- + 'Twould be a pleasant world! + + * * * * * + +SUMMARY OF RESULT FOR OLD CATHOLIC CONGRESS.--_Lucerna Lucellum_. + + * * * * * + +LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS. + +_Mount Street, Grosvenor Square_. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--I got so wet on the St. Leger day, that I've been in +bed ever since--not because I had to wait till my things were dry--but +because I caught a cold! _What_ a day it was!--I am told that in +addition to the St. Leger, Doncaster is chiefly celebrated for _Butter +Scotch_--if so, I presume they don't make it out-of-doors, or it +would have stood a good chance of being melted--(not in the mouth)--on +Wednesday fortnight! But the excitement of the race fully made +up for the liquid weather, and we all--(except the backers of +_Orme_)--enjoyed ourselves. I was told that the Duke of WESTMINSTER +had "left the Leger at Goodwood," which is simply absurd, as I not +only saw it run for at Doncaster myself, but it is ridiculous to +insinuate that the Duke went there, put the Leger in his pocket--(as +if a Nobleman ever kept books)--walked off quietly to Goodwood and +left it there deliberately! + +I conclude it can only be an expression coined to discount--(another +ledger term)--the victory of _La Fleche_,--to which not half enough +attention has been drawn, solely (in my opinion) because _La Fleche_ +is of the gentler sex, and men don't like the "horse of the year" to +be a mare. + +I still maintain she was unlucky to lose the Derby, as she won +the Oaks two days later in two seconds quicker time:--(which is an +anachronism--as if you win _once_ out of _twice_--how can it be two +_seconds_?) + +There was good sport at Yarmouth last week, though owing to the rain +the course must have been on the soft (roe) side,--by the way you can +get them now in bottles, and very good they are. I am glad to see that +staunch supporter of the turf, Lord ELTHAM, winning races again--as +his horses have been much out of form lately, at least so I am told, +but I was not aware that horses were in a "form" at all, unless being +"schooled" over hurdles. + +I shall have a word or two to say on the Cesarewitch shortly--having +had some private information calculated to break a ROTHSCHILD if +followed--but for the moment will content myself with scanning the +programme of the Leicester and Manchester Meetings. + +There are two races which seem perhaps worth picking up--one at each +place; and, while giving my selection for the Leicestershire race in +the usual verse, I will just mention that I should have given Lord +DUNRAVEN's _Inverness_ for the Manchester race, but that I see his +Lordship has sent it to America--rather foolish, now that winter is +coming on; but perhaps he has another, and may be doing a kindness to +some poor American Cousin! _St. Angelo_ might win this race without an +Inverness, though I presume he will appear in _some_ sort of clothing. + +Yours devotedly, LADY GAY. + +LEICESTERSHIRE ROYAL HANDICAP SELECTION. + + On seeing an awkward, three-cornered affair, + Which I heard was a racer from Fingal, + And hearing him roaring, and whistling an air, + I said, he'll be beaten by _Windgall_. + +P.S.--This is _awful_; but _what_ a horse to have to rhyme to! + + * * * * * + +"SHUT UP!" AT BARMOUTH!--Mr. GLADSTONE having made up his mind not to +utter another syllable during his holiday, selects as an appropriate +resting-place, a charming sea-side spot where he stops himself, and +where there is a "Bar" before the "mouth." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: MR. PUNCH'S FISHING PARTY.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE FINDING OF PHARAOH. + +_Interesting Discovery in the Dead Season._] + + * * * * * + +VERY ENTERTAINING. + +Dear MR. PUNCH,--So much is done by the organisers of the Primrose +League in the shape of amusements for the people, that it seems +strange "the other side" should not follow suit. Without having +decided political opinions, I like both the Government and Her +Majesty's Opposition to be on equal terms. Hence my suggestion. I see +that, a few days ago, Mr. GLADSTONE, in speaking to an audience at +Barmouth, made the following remarks. He said--He belonged to almost +every part of the country. A Scotchman by blood, born in Lancashire, +and resident in London, he had become closely attached to Wales by +marriage, and had now become too old to get rid of that inclination. +Surely these admissions conjure up the possibility of a really +excellent entertainment. To show you what I mean, I jot down, +in dramatic form, my notion of the manner in which the PREMIER's +excellent idea should be worked out:-- + + SCENE--_A large hall, with a platform. On the platform, + Committee and Chairman. In front of the Chairman, large table, + with cloth reaching to the floor. Water-bottle, and tumbler, + and lamp._ + +_Chairman._ Ladies and Gentlemen, I have great pleasure in +announcing that the Right Hon. W.E. GLADSTONE (_cheers_), will give +his entertainment entitled "The Man of Many Characters" almost +immediately. The PREMIER's train is a little late, but--ah, here +come his fore-runners. (_Enter two Servants in livery with a large +basket-box, which they place under the table and then retire._) And +now we may expect the PREMIER immediately. + + [_Enter Mr. GLADSTONE in evening dress hurriedly. He is + received with thunders of applause._ + +_Mr. Gladstone._ Ladies and Gentlemen! (_Great cheering._) I regret +I have kept you waiting for some quarter of an hour. My excuse must +be that I caused the train to be pulled up, because I noticed at a +wayside station a crowd of villagers who, apparently, were desirous +to hear me speak. You must forgive me, for it was for the good of +the nation. (_Cheers._) And now without preface, I will appear as my +friend Farmer HODGE. (_Loud applause, during which the PREMIER dives +under the table and re-appears in character. Continued applause._) I +be mighty glad to see ye. And now, I'll tell ye what I thinks about +the Eight Hours' Bill. (_Airs his opinions in "Zomerzetshire" for +some twenty minutes. At the conclusion of his performance re-appears +in evening dress-coat. Applause._) Thank you very much. But although +Farmer HODGE is a very good fellow, I think SANDIE MACBAWBEE is even +better. With your permission, I will appear as SANDIE MACBAWBEE. +(_Disappears under table, and re-appears in Highland Costume. +Cheers._) Dinna fash yourselves! Ma gracious! It's ma opinion that +you'll just hear a wee bit about Home Rule for Bonnie Scotland. Well, +ye ken--(_Airs his opinions upon his chosen subject in broad Scotch. +After a quarter of an hour he re-appears, and receives the usual +applause._) Thank you from the bottom of my heart. And now as I have +shown you Scotland and England, I think you would be pleased with +a glimpse of London. (_Cheers._) You all like London, do you not? +(_Applause._) With your kind permission, I will re-appear as a noted +character in the great tragic comedy of the world's Metropolis. +(_Dives down and comes up as a Costermonger. Prolonged applause._) +What cheer! (_Laughter._) Well, you blokes what are you grinning at? +I am a chickaleary cove, that's what I am. But I know what would knock +you! You would like to 'ear about 'Ome Rule. Eh? What cheer! 'Ere +goes. (_Reveals his Home-Rule scheme with a Cockney twang and dialect. +Then disappears and re-appears in his customary evening dress._) Thank +you most earnestly. (_Loud cheers._) And now I am afraid I must bid +you good-bye. But before leaving, I must confess to you that I have +never had the honour of appearing before a juster, more intelligent, +and more appreciative audience. [_Bows and exit._ + +_Voices._ Encore! Encore! Encore! + +_Mr. Gladstone_ (_returning_). I am deeply touched by this sign +of public confidence. I would willingly continue my character +illustrations indefinitely, but, unfortunately, I am required in +another part of the country to repeat the same performances. I have +only just time to catch my special train. Thank you again and again. + + [_Exit hurriedly, after kissing his hand. The Footmen + reappear, and take away the large box. Applause, and Curtain._ + +There, my dear _Mr. Punch_, is the rough idea. I feel sure it could be +carried through with the greatest possible advantage. + +Believe me, yours most truly, AN EARNEST PATRIOT. + + * * * * * + +THE QUEEN OF MAN-O'ER-BOARD. + +_A NOVEL IN LITTLE FROM A DRAMA IN FULL._ + +CHAPTER I.--_LADY VIOLET MALVERN AT HOME._ + +It was a gorgeous entertainment, consisting chiefly of recitations +and the "_Intermezzo_." Lady VIOLET MALVERN was _the_ life and soul +of the party. But there were lesser lights in a Baron FINOT, an old +diplomatist, and a Major GARRETT, an officer in retreat. Then came +ARMAND SEVARRO. He was an adventurer, and a friend of Baron FINOT, and +had a solitary anecdote. + +"I am going to be married to a young lady of the name of DOROTHY +BLAIR, but cannot reveal the secret, because her mother is not well +enough to hear the news." + +Then ARMAND met Lady VIOLET. + +"I dreamed years ago of going to the City of Manoa to find its queen. +I have found her this evening." + +"And she is--?" queried Lady VIOLET. + +"You!" hissed the Brazilian (he was a Brazilian), and departed. + +"What folly!" murmured Lady VIOLET, in the moonlight. + +And many agreed with her. + +CHAPTER II.--_THE GARDEN OF DOROTHY BLAIR._ + +DOROTHY was on the Thames. There came to her ARMAND. + +"Will you never publish our contemplated marriage?" she asked. + +"How can I, child?" he replied. "How can I reveal the secret when your +mother is not well enough to hear the news?" + +It was his solitary anecdote. + +She sighed, and then came a steam-launch. It contained Lady VIOLET, +the other characters, lunch, and (played off) the "_Intermezzo_." + +Then ARMAND preferred to flirt with Lady VIOLET to DOROTHY. + +"What nonsense!" thought DOROTHY. + +And her thoughts found an echo in the breasts of the audience. + +CHAPTER III.--_SMOKE IN THE SMOKING-ROOM._ + +And the Right Hon. RICHARD MALVERN, having had supper, was jealous of +his wife. He told Lady VIOLET that he considered ARMAND _de trop_. But +he did it so amiably that it touched Lady VIOLET deeply. + +"I will send ARMAND away," she replied. Then she told the Brazilian +that it was his duty to stay away until his engagement was announced. + +"But how can it be announced?" he replied, repeating his solitary +anecdote. "I am engaged to a young lady, but I cannot reveal the +secret, because her mother is not well enough to hear the news." + +Then Lady VIOLET bade him, haughtily, adieu! He departed, but +returned, accompanied by the "_Intermezzo_." Then--probably at the +suggestion of the music--she hugged him. Then he left her. + +"This is very wearisome," murmured Lady VIOLET. + +And the audience agreed with her. + +CHAPTER IV.--_A WEIR ON THE THAMES._ + +It being moonlight, Lady VIOLET walked on a terrace, and admired +a dangerous weir. There was a shriek, and the Brazilian rushed in +accompanied by the "_Intermezzo_." + +"Fly with me to any part of the Desert that pleases you most." + +"I would be most delighted," replied Lady VIOLET; "I would sacrifice +myself to any extent, but I would not annoy my husband." + +"Then let me kiss you with the aid of MASCAGNI," and he pressed his +lips to her brow, to the accompaniment of the "_Intermezzo_." + +"I have been to Manoa, and kissed its Queen," said the Brazilian, as +he jumped into the weir, wearily. "It would have been better had I +died before." + +"Yes," thought Lady VIOLET, as she leisurely fainted, "it would indeed +have been better had he died in the First Act than in the last. +Then the piece would have been shorter, more satisfactory, and less +expensive to produce. Nay, more--a solitary Act might have been one +too many!" And yet again the audience, "all o'er-bored," entirely +agreed with her! + + * * * * * + +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, Sep. 24, 1892, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 15366.txt or 15366.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/3/6/15366/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the 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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