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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 103,
+October 15, 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, October 15, 1892
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Francis Burnand
+
+Release Date: March 24, 2005 [EBook #15453]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** 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.
+
+
+
+October 15, 1892.
+
+
+
+
+'ARRY AT 'ARRYGATE.
+
+(_SECOND LETTER._)
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ DEAR CHARLIE,--The post-mark, no doubt, will surprise you. I'm
+ still at the "Crown,"
+ Though I said in my last--wot wos true--I was jest on the mizzle
+ for town.
+ 'Ad a letter from nunky, old man, with another small cheque. Good
+ old nunk!
+ So I'm in for a fortnit' more sulphur and slosh, afore doing a bunk.
+
+ Ah! I've worked it, my pippin, I've worked it; gone in for
+ hexcursions all round,
+ To Knaresborough, Bolton, and Fountains. You know, dear old pal,
+ I'll be bound,
+ As hantiquities isn't my 'obby, and ruins don't fetch me, not much!
+ I can't see their "beauty," no more than the charms of some dowdy
+ old Dutch.
+
+ A Castle, all chunnicks of stone, or a Habbey, much out of repair,
+ A skelinton Banquetting 'All, and a bit of a broken-down stair,
+ May appear most perticular "precious" to them as the picteresk cops;
+ But give me the sububs and stucco, smart villas, and
+ spick-and-span shops.
+
+ "Up to date" is our _siney quay non_ in these days. _Fang der
+ sickle_, yer know.
+ Wich is French for the same, I persoom, and them phrases is now
+ all the go.
+ Find 'em sprinkled all over the papers; in politics, fashion, or
+ art,
+ If you carnt turn 'em slick round yer tongue, you ain't modern, or
+ knowing, or smart.
+
+ Still a houting to Bolton ain't bad when the _charry-bang's_ well
+ loaded up
+ With swell seven-and-sixpence-a-headers. _I_ felt like a tarrier-pup
+ On the scoop arter six weeks of kennel and drench in the 'ands of
+ a vet;
+ I'd got free of the brimstoney flaviour and went it accordin', you
+ bet!
+
+ 'Ad a day at a village called Birstwith. The most tooralooralest
+ scene,
+ 'Oiler down among 'ills, dontcher know, ancient trees and a jolly
+ big green.
+ Reglar old Rip-van-Winkleish spot, sech as CALDECOTT ought to ha'
+ sketched.
+ Though I ain't noways nuts on the pastoral, even Yours Truly wos
+ fetched.
+
+ Pooty sight and no error, old pal! 'Twos a grand "Aughticultural
+ Show,"
+ So the "Progrum of Sports" told the public. Fruit, flowers, and
+ live poultry, yer know.
+ Big markee and a range of old 'en-coops, sports, niggers, a smart
+ local band,
+ Cottage gardemn', cheese, roosters, and races! Rum mix, but I gave
+ it a 'and.
+
+ I do like to hencourage the joskins. One thing though, wos
+ fiddle-de-dee,
+ They 'ad a "Refreshment Tent," CHARLIE. 'Oh my! Ginger-ale and
+ weak tea!
+ Nothink stronger, old pal, s'elp me bob! Fancy _me_ flopping down
+ on a form
+ A-munching plum-putty, and lapping Bohea as wos not even warm!
+
+ This 'ere 'Arrygate's short of amusements. There's niggers and
+ bands on the "Stray"
+ (Big lumpy old field in a 'ole, wich if properly managed might pay.)
+ Mysterious Minstrels with masks on, a bleating contralto in black,
+ With a orful tremoler, my pippin!--yus, these are the pick of the
+ pack.
+
+ Bit sick of "_Ta-ra-ra_" and "_Knocked 'em_;" "_Carissimar_" gives
+ me the 'ump,
+ For I 'ear it some six times per morning; and then there's a footy
+ old pump
+ Blows staggery toons on a post-'orn for full arf a-hour each day,
+ To muster the mugs for a coach-drive. My heye and a bandbox, it's
+ gay!
+
+ At the "Crown" we git up little barnies, to eke out the 'Arrygate
+ lot,
+ For even the Spa's a bit samesome for six times a week when it's
+ 'ot;
+ Though they do go it pooty permiskus with pickter-shows, concerts,
+ and such;
+ Yus, I must say they ladles it out fair and free, for a sixpenny
+ touch.
+
+ But even yer Fancy Dress Balls, and yer lectures by ANNIE BESANT,
+ All about Hastral Bodies and Hether, seems not always _quite_ wot
+ yer want
+ To wile away time arter dinner. So thanks to that
+ gent--six-foot-four!--
+ Who fair cuts the record as Droring-Room M.C.--of course
+ _hammytoor_.
+
+ Then we've conjurors, worblers, phrenologists! One 'ad a go at
+ _my_ chump.
+ 'E touzled my 'air up tremenjus, and said I'd no hend of a bump
+ Of somethink he called "Happrybativeness." Feller meant well, I
+ suppose,
+ But I didn't quite relish his smile, nor his rummy remarks on my
+ nose.
+
+ When a tall gurl as pooty as paint, and with cheeks like a
+ blush--rose in bloom,
+ 'As 'er lamps all a-larf on yer face, and a giggle goes round the
+ whole room,
+ 'Tisn't nice to sit square on a chair, with a feller a-sharpening
+ 'is wit
+ On your nob, and a rumpling your 'air till it's like a birch-broom
+ in a fit!
+
+ One caper we 'ad, on the lawn, wos a spree and no error, old man.
+ They call it a "Soap-Bubble Tournyment." Soapsuds, a pipe, and a
+ fan,
+ Four six--foot posts stuck in the ground with a tape run
+ around--them's the "props,"
+ And lawn-tennis ain't in it for larks. Oh, the ladies did larf,
+ though tip-tops!
+
+ Bit sniffy fust off. "Oh!" sez they, "wot a most _hintellectual_
+ game!"
+ But I noticed that them as sneered most wos most anxious to win,
+ all the same,
+ The gent he stands slap in the middle, and tries to blow bubbles
+ like fun,
+ Wich his pardner fans over the tape; don't it jest keep the girls
+ on the run!
+
+ Every bubble as crosses the tape afore busting counts one to that
+ pair,
+ And the pair as counts most wins the prize. They are timed by a
+ hegg-boiler. There!
+ It _wos_ all a pantermime, CHARLIE, to see 'ow them gurls scooted
+ round,
+ Jest like Japanese jugglers, a-fanning the bubbles, as _would_ 'ug
+ the ground.
+
+ Some gents wos fair frosts at the bizness; one good-'earted trim
+ little toff
+ Would blow with the bowl wrong end uppards. His pardner went pink
+ and flounced off.
+ He gurgled away like a babe with a pap-bottle, guggle--gug--gug!
+ And I 'eard 'er a-giving 'im beans as 'e mizzled, much down in the
+ mug.
+
+ Owsomever, it ain't for amusements as 'Arrygate lays itself hout;
+ So, dear boy, it's for doses and douches; and there it scores
+ freely, no doubt,
+ Wy, there's thirty-two Springs in the Bog Field--a place like a
+ graveyard gone wrong--
+ Besides Starbeck, the Tewit, and others, all narsty, and most on
+ 'em strong.
+
+ Since Sir SLINGSBY discovered the first one, now close on three
+ cent'ries ago,
+ Wot a lush of mixed mineral muck these 'ere 'Arrygate Springs 'ave
+ let flow!
+ Well, ere's bully for Brimstone, my bloater, and 'ooray for
+ 'Arrygate air!
+ Wich 'as done me most good I don't know, and I'm scorched if I
+ very much care!
+
+ I know 'Arrygate girls cop the biscuit for beauty. They've cheeks
+ like the rose,
+ Their skin is jest strorberries and cream; it's the sulphur, dear
+ boy, I suppose.
+ As for me, I look yaller as taller alongside 'em CHARLIE, wus luck!
+ I 'eard one call me saffron-faced sparrer, and jest as I thought
+ 'er fair struck.
+
+ I'd nail 'em, in time, I've no doubt, when I once got the 'ang of
+ their style.
+ There's a gal at the Montpellier Baths. Scissoree! 'ow I've tried
+ for a smile,
+ When she tips me my tannersworth! Shucks! she's as orty and stiff
+ as yer please.
+ Primrose Dames isn't in it for snubs with these arrygant
+ 'Arrygatese!
+
+ But I reckon my "Douche" is now due. Doctor BLACK's that
+ pertikler, old man.
+ These 'Arrygate doctors 'ave progrums--you've got to pan out to
+ their plan.
+ Up early, two swigs afore breakfust, and tubs when they tell yer's
+ the rule.
+ Well, the feller as flies to a Sawbones, and _don't_ toe the line
+ is a fool.
+
+ Reglar Doctor-Shop, 'Arrygate is; see their photos all over the
+ town.
+ Mine is doing me dollups of good; I'm quite peckish, and jest a
+ bit brown.
+ I'm making the most of my time, and a-laying in all I can carry.
+ So 'ere ends this budget of brimstone and baths from your
+ sulphur-soaked
+
+'ARRY.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: A FROG HE WOULD A-ROWING GO!
+
+A SAD SONG OF THE INTERNATIONAL BOAT RACE.
+
+(_WITH MR. PUNCH'S CORDIAL COMPLIMENTS TO THE VICTORIOUS FRENCH
+EIGHT_.)
+
+AIR--"_A Frog he would a-Wooing go_."
+
+ A FROGGIE would a-rowing go,
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ To see if Big BULLIE could lick him or no;
+ With his boating form that's all gammon and spinach.
+ Heigho for British Rowing!
+
+ So off he set with his boating-cap,
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ And swore at Big BULL he would just have a slap!
+ Which BULL declared was all gammon and spinach!
+ Heigho for British Rowing!
+
+ "Pray, Mr. BULL, will you race with me?"
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ Says BULL, "If you like, but 'tis fiddle-de-dee!
+ For FROG against BULL is all gammon and spinach."
+ Heigho for British Rowing!
+
+ When they came to Andresy upon the Seine,
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ Big BULL pulled his hardest, but pulled in vain,
+ For he found his boasts were all gammon and spinach.
+ Heigho for British Rowing!
+
+ For in spite of the brag, and the bounce, and the chaff,
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ The FROG beat the BULL by a length and a half,
+ With your MOSSOP and JAMES, licked by BOUDIN and CUZIN,
+ Heigho, says R.C. LEHMANN!
+
+ "Pray, Mr. BULL, do you relish the spin?"
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ (Said FROGGIE.) "And were you cocksure you would win,
+ With your forty-one strokes all sheer gammon and spinach?"
+ Heigho for British Rowing!
+
+ "Humph! Regular take-down!" said Big Mr. BULL--
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ "But, FROGGIE or not, by the lord you can _pull_,
+ With your much-decried 'hang,'--'twas all gammon and spinach!
+ Heigho for British Rowing!"
+
+ "Ha! Ha!" cried the FROG, "the old fable, thought true"--
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ "Is out of date now. I'm as big, BULL, as _you_,
+ As an oarsman, which is _not_ all gammon and spinach!"
+ Heigho for British Rowing.
+
+ So that in the end (for the present), you see,
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ Of the race between Big BULL and Little FROGGIE.
+ BULL's fame, in a boat, seems all gammon and spinach.
+ Heigho for British Rowing!
+]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: LOOKING AHEAD.
+
+_Miss Golightly_ (_the Friend of the Family, and to whom Sir Percy
+(the elder) has proposed_). "OF COURSE I'M AWFULLY OBLIGED, SIR
+PERCY--BUT, SAY NOW, DON'T YOU THINK THERE WOULD BE SOME DANGER OF
+MY FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOUR ELDEST SON?"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+MR. CHAUNCEY DEPEW, the well-known American lawyer, wonders why on
+earth the British Government has not long ago given Home Rule to
+Ireland. He encourages Mr. G.'s Ministry to do their best in this
+direction, and chaunce-y it. We're always delighted to welcome Mr.
+CHAUNCEY DEPEW in England, so let him come over with a Depewtation
+to Mr. G. on the subject.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+EQUESTRIAN FRUIT.--At the Horticultural Show the Baroness
+BURDETT-COUTTS exhibited a "Cob of ADAM's Early Maize." No particulars
+are given. Was it 14'1 and a weight-carrier? Being ADAM's, it must be
+about the oldest in the world. "Maize" may be a misprint for "Mews."
+Next time the Baroness must send a pear.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+PROBABLE DEDUCTION.--A pertinacious Salvation Army Captain was
+worrying a Scotch farmer, whom he had met in the train, with perpetual
+inquiries as to whether "he had been born again of Water and the
+Spirit?" At last, MCSANDY replied, "Aweel, I dinna reetly ken how
+that may be, but my good old feyther and mither took their toddy
+releegiously every nicht, the noo."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE AUSTRO-GERMAN OFFICER'S VADE-MECUM.
+
+_Q._ You have heard of the Ride from Berlin to Vienna, and _vice
+versâ_?
+
+_A._ Yes; and of the mishaps that befell many of the competitors.
+
+_Q._ You mean their horses?
+
+_A._ What applies to the one applies to the other.
+
+_Q._ Some of the poor steeds died on the journey?
+
+_A._ I daresay--of course, it was hard work.
+
+_Q._ And you have read that, even when the poor horses were fainting
+and refusing food, the riders still went on?
+
+_A._ Of course. The riders had magnificent pluck and nerve.
+
+_Q._ What, to observe the anguish of their chargers without emotion?
+
+_A._ No! The idea! I mean they had pluck and nerve in spite of all
+discouragement to push on to the winning-post.
+
+_Q._ And what do you think this breaking down of the horses proved?
+
+_A._ That, after all, the creatures were brutes--only brutes!
+
+_Q._ Does not the suffering of these brutes suggest--
+
+_A._ That the riders were brutes too?--Ah!
+
+ [_No further question put, the Answerer having mastered the
+ subject._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+IN EXCELSIS.--No better example of the methods employed by
+Vivisectionists could be given than was presented at the Church
+Congress last week, where in debate on this subject they were all
+engaged in cutting up one another. The Bishop of EDINBURGH, denouncing
+the morality of the Bishop of MANCHESTER and of Bishop BARRY, was a
+rare sight. His Lordship said that the morality of these two Bishops
+was "up in a balloon." Well, surely this is morality of the most
+elevated description. These Bishops are not "_in partibus_," but _in
+nubibus_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+IN WATER COLOURS.--The East London Waterworks Company had a very
+successful meeting the other day. _Inter alia_ the Chairman said,
+that "the Waltham Well is a complete success." _Ergo_ let Well alone.
+That from this source they still supplied "36 gallons per head." The
+heads must be uncommonly hard to stand all this water on the brain. A
+dividend of eight per cent. is, after all, a very pleasant draught.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"GREEN THE GUIDE."
+
+(_A SKETCH ON A "ROYAL BLUE" CAR AT JERSEY._)
+
+ _On the Car is, among others, an Elderly Gentleman, in a
+ tall hat, with a quantity of wraps; a Stout Shopkeeper, with
+ a stouter Wife; a Serious Commercial Traveller, and a couple
+ of young "Shop-ladies"; a Morose Young Man, who has "got
+ out of bed the wrong side" that morning, and another, who
+ has begun his potations rather early, and is in the muzzily
+ talkative mood. The Car is one of a long string of similar
+ vehicles, and is proceeding at a rapid rate along one of the
+ winding roads._
+
+_The Muzzy Man_. Frivolous, am I? Well, we _came_ 'ere to be
+frivolous--to a certain extent. Am I out of the way in anything I've
+said? Because I woke this morning with a dry month, and I don't mind
+saying I've had a little drop o' brandy since.
+
+_His Neighbour_. You might let people find out that for themselves,
+_I_ should think!
+
+_The Muzzy M._ No--I like to be honest and straightforward, I do. I
+don't want to be out of the _way_, you understand.
+
+_The Shopkeeper's Wife_ (_to her Neighbour_). This is a pretty part
+of the road we're on now--but, lor! there's nothing 'ere to come up to
+the Isle of Man. Douglas, now--that _is_ a nice place, with all them
+Music Halls! And the scenery--why, I'm sure I felt sometimes as if I
+_must_ stop, just to _look_ at it!
+
+_The Muzzy Man_. I consider scenery we're coming to most beautiful
+I've seen for--for miles around. [_He goes to sleep._
+
+[Illustration: "An elderly Gentleman, in a tall hat, with a quantity
+of wraps."]
+
+_The Shopkeeper_ (_to the Elderly G., who is shifting and turning
+about uneasily_). Lost anything, Sir?
+
+_The E.G._ No--thank you, no. I was looking to see whether GREEN the
+Guide was on the car. (_Shouts of laughter are heard from the car
+behind._) Ah, _that's_ GREEN the Guide! I wish he'd come on our
+oar--very amusing fellow, Sir--capital company!
+
+_The Morose M._ (_to the Young Lady 'on his Left_) Who's GREEN the
+Guide?
+
+_The Y.L._ Oh, don't you know? He comes with the cars and makes jokes
+and all that. I hope he'll come to us.
+
+_The Mor. M._ _I_ don't. I can do that sort of thing for myself if I
+want to, I hope. [_With a scowl._
+
+_The Y.L._ Well, there's no harm in _hoping_!
+
+_The Serious Comm. T._ (_to his neighbour--one of the Shop-ladies_).
+So you come from Birmingham? Dear me, now. I used to be there very
+often on business at one time. Do you know the Rev. Mr. PODGER there?
+A good old gentleman, he is. I used to attend his Chapel regular--most
+improving discourses he used to give us. I am fond of a good Sermon,
+aren't you? &c.
+
+ [_He imagines--not altogether correctly--that he is producing
+ an agreeable impression._
+
+_A Young Man in a Frock-coat, Canvas-shoes, and Cloth-cap._
+Scarborough? Yes, I've _been_ there--but I don't care about it much.
+You have to _dress_ such a lot there, y' know, and I like to come out
+just as I am!
+
+ [_The conversation, notwithstanding its brilliancy, is
+ beginning to flag--when the car is boarded by a stalwart
+ good-looking man, carrying a banjo, and wearing a leather
+ shoulder-belt with "GREEN the Guide" in brass letters upon
+ it; the Elderly Gentleman, and most of the Ladies welcome
+ him with effusion, while the Younger Men appear to resent
+ his appearance._
+
+_The Mor. M._ (_sotto voce_). If he's going to play that old
+instrument of torture, I shall _howl_, that's all!
+
+_Green the Guide_ (_in a deep baritone voice_). Well, Ladies
+and Gentlemen, I congratulate you upon having a fine day for our
+excursion. My glass went up three feet this morning.
+
+_The Morose Man_ (_aggressively_). Was there whiskey inside it?
+
+_Green the Guide_. No, Sir, it would have gone down suddenly if there
+had been. (_The_ Elderly G. _asks for a song_.) I shall be delighted
+to entertain you to the best of my ability. What would you like to
+have?
+
+_The Mor. M._ None of your songs--give us an imitation--of a deaf and
+dumb man.
+
+_Green the G._ (_with perfect good-humour_). I shall be happy to do
+the deaf man, Sir,--if you'll help me by doing the dumb. (_The_ Mor.
+M. _begins to feel that he had better leave_ GREEN the Guide _alone._)
+Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, I'll sing you a good old-fashioned
+hunting-song, and I'll ask you to join me in the Chorus.
+
+ [_He sings "We'll all go out hunting to-day!"_
+
+_The Mor. M._ (_after the First Verse_). The beggar don't sing so
+badly. I will say _that_ for him! (_After the Third._) Capital voice
+he has! Rattling good Chorus, too! "Join the glad throng that goes
+laughing along, and we'll all go a-hunting to-day!" (_At the end._)
+Bravo! encore! encore!
+
+ [_His good-humour is suddenly and miraculously restored._
+
+_Green the G._ (_in a tone of instruction_). You will notice that the
+thistle is very abundant just here, Ladies and Gentlemen. The reason
+of _that_, is that some years ago a vessel was wrecked on this part of
+the coast which was sailing from Scotland with a cargo of thistledown.
+(_Outcry of incredulity_.) If you don't believe me, ask the Coachman.
+
+_The Coachman_ (_stolidly_). It's a fact, Gentlemen, I assure you.
+
+_G. the G._ The soil of Jersey is remarkably productive; if you plant
+a sixpence, it will come up a shilling in no time. The cabbages on
+this island grow to an extraordinary height, frequently attaining
+twenty feet--(_outcry_)--yes, if you measure up one side, and down the
+other. (_They pass a couple of sheep on a slope._) The finest flock
+of sheep in the island. The dark one is not black, only a little
+sunburnt. The house you see on that hill over there was formerly slept
+in by CHARLES THE SECOND. He left a pair of slippers behind him--which
+have since grown into top-boots. There you see the only windmill in
+this part of the island--there _used_ to be three, but it was found
+there was not enough wind for them all. From here you have a clear
+view of the coast of France; and, when the wind is blowing in this
+direction, you have an excellent opportunity of acquiring the French
+accent in all its purity. (_This string of somewhat hoary chestnuts
+meets with a success beyond their intrinsic merits, the_ Morose Man
+_being as much entertained as anybody._) On your right is an inland
+lake of fresh water--
+
+_The Muzzy Man_ (_waking up with sudden interest_). Can you drink it
+with perfect impunity?
+
+_G. the G._ Depends how far you are accustomed to it as a beverage,
+Sir. (_The car stops at an hotel._) We stop here two hours, Ladies and
+Gentlemen, to enable you to lunch, and examine the caves afterwards.
+You can leave anything you like on the cars except five-pound
+notes--and they _might_ get blown away!
+
+ON THE WAY HOME.
+
+_The Shopkeeper's Wife_ (_to her Husband_). Ah, TOM, it's just as
+well you stayed behind--you'd never have got through those caves! You
+wouldn't believe I could ha' done it unless you'd seen me--clambering
+down iron ladders, and jumping on to rocks, and squeezing through
+tunnels, and then up a cliff like the side of a house. I do _wish_ you
+could ha' seen me, TOM!
+
+_Tom_ (_philosophically_). Ah, well, I was very comfortable where I
+was, settin' in the hotel room there, smoking my pipe. GREEN the Guide
+gave us, "_Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep_," in first-rate style--he
+is a _singer_, and no mistake!
+
+_His Wife_. Lor, I wish I'd known he was going to sing--I'd ha' stayed
+too! But here he is, waiting by the road for us--I do hope he's going
+to sing again!
+
+_Green the G._ (_mounting the car_). I fear I am an unwelcome visitor.
+
+_The Eld. G._ (_graciously_). It would be the first time in your life
+then, GREEN!
+
+_G. the G._ Well, the fact is, I come to levy a little contribution on
+behalf of myself and the Coachman. Times are hard, Gentlemen, and both
+of us have large families to support. If you don't believe me, ask
+the Coachman. (_The Elderly G. explains that his wrappings prevent
+him from getting at his purse just then, while the others contribute
+with more or less readiness and liberality_.) Many thanks. Ladies and
+Gentlemen, on behalf of myself and the Coachman, and to express my
+sense of your generosity, I will sing you the great Jersey National
+Song, composed by myself, before leaving. (_He sings a ditty with the
+following spirited Chorus_):--
+
+ There the streets are paved with granite. So neat and clean
+ And lots of pretty, witty girls, are always to be seen!
+ With the brave old Mi-litia, Our foes to defy!
+ And there they grow the Cabba-ges--Ten feet high!
+ (_All together, Gentlemen, please_!) Yes, there they grow the
+ Cabbages, there they grow the Cabbages, there they grow
+ the Cabbages--Ten feet high!
+
+Thank you, Gentlemen, I've sung that song a number of times, and I
+never remember hearing the chorus better sung. If you don't believe
+me, ask the Coachman.
+
+_Coachman._ _I've_ never 'eard it better sung, Ladies and Gentlemen,
+I assure you.
+
+ [_GREEN the Guide descends in a blaze of popularity, and the
+ "Royal Blue" rolls on in excellent spirits._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+POLITICAL TRAINING.
+
+_Monday_.--Read Mr. CHAMBERLAIN's remarks on abstinence from bodily
+exercise. Sold my bicycle, and gave away all my rackets, bats, &c.
+Resolved to follow the latest system. Shall doubtless, by these means,
+reach Mr. C.'s high position as a statesman and orator. Went out
+in a Bath-chair. Five minutes after starting, man said he was not
+accustomed to drag so heavy an invalid, and must rest a little. Tried
+a speech--my maiden one--on the Disadvantages of Bodily Exercise. He
+listened respectfully, and, when at last I had finished, said he quite
+agreed with me, and that the fare was seven shillings.
+
+_Tuesday_.--Have decided that exercise in a Bath-chair is quite
+superfluous. Resolved to take exercise, for the future, in a hammock,
+just outside the garden-door. Must practise speech-making to the
+gardener. Good idea--Orchids. Asked him what he thought about the new
+Orchid. Miserable fool answered, "Awkud, zur? Dunno waht thaht be."
+I said that was "awkud," and had to laugh at the highly original
+side-splitter myself, as he never saw it.
+
+_Wednesday_.--Must really give up this long walk to the garden-door.
+Shall never become a great statesman unless I do. Resolved to take
+exercise in arm-chair in library. The children's governess came in
+to fetch a book. Addressed her at some length on Free Education.
+Afterwards, thought this subject was somewhat ill-chosen, as her
+salary is so small.
+
+_Thursday_.--Really cannot stand this walking up and down stairs.
+Shall remain for the future in my bed-room and take exercise on sofa
+by fireside, as I feel chilly. Page came in with coals. Reminded me of
+Policy of Scuttle. Spoke of this at some length, and woke him up with
+difficulty when I had finished. Felt rather unwell.
+
+_Friday_.--Dressing and undressing is certainly needless fatigue,
+and evidently causes this headache and general seediness. Shall take
+exercise in bed. Felt worse. Female relatives anxious, and insist on
+medical attendance. Assured them I was following the best system, and
+answered their persistent demands by a short address on Home Rule.
+
+_Saturday_.--Felt so bad at five this morning, that Doctor was
+fetched. Tried feebly to address him on the Eight Hours' Question,
+when he said he never had any time to think how long he worked.
+Explained my new system to him. He said I should myself want a new
+system to stand such a course of treatment. Then he pulled me out of
+bed, and insisted on my walking ten miles as soon as I was dressed.
+Felt much better. Shall abandon politics and become a farmer, having
+just heard of an infallible system for growing wheat profitably.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE "RESTORATION" PERIOD.--Will the Chairmen of the L.C. & D. and the
+S.E. Lines unite their forces? After the meeting on this subject last
+week, Sir EDWARD will have lots of reason to listen to. But apart from
+every consideration of _mal de mer_, and "From Calais to Dover," as
+the poet sings "'Tis soonest over," there is not anywhere a better,
+and we, who have suffered as greatly as the much-enduring Ulysses,
+venture to assert not anywhere as good a luncheon as at the
+"Restauration" (well it deserves the title!) of the Calais Station.
+Every patriotic travelling Englishman must be delighted to think that
+some few centuries ago we gave up Calais. Had it been nowadays in
+English hands, why it might even now be possessed of a "Refreshment
+Room" no better than--any on our side of the Channel, for there is no
+necessity to particularise. From Dover to Calais is the shortest and
+best restorative'd route for the traveller, whether ill or well, at
+sea.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+MOTTOES for the new Lord MAYOR. "_Nil obstet_," "_Nil fortius_," and,
+from HORACE, "_Nil amplius oro_." This, in answer to thousands of
+correspondents, is our last word on the subject; so after this (except
+on the 9th of November), we say--_nil_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SUCH A "LIGHT OPERA!"
+
+[Illustration: "Pity a Poo' Bar-itone!"]
+
+Had Sir ARTHUR written the music for _The Mountebanks_, and Sir BRIAN
+DE BOIS GILBERT the book of _Haddon Hall_, both might have been big
+successes So, however, it was not to be, and Sir ARTHUR chose this
+book by Mr. GRUNDY, which labours under the disadvantages of being
+original, and of not owing almost everything to a French source. It
+isn't every day of the week that Mr. GRUNDY tumbles upon _A Pair of
+Spectacles_ in a volume of French plays. The period to which the very
+slight and uninteresting story of _Haddon Hall_ belongs is just before
+the Restoration, but the dialogue of "the book" is spiced with modern
+slang, both "up to date" (the date being this present year of Grace,
+not sixteen hundred and sixty) and out of date. The "out-of-date"
+slang, which is, "_I've got 'em on"_--alluding to the Scotchman's
+trousers--has by far the best of it, as it comes at the end of the
+piece, and enjoys the honour of having been set to music by the
+variously-gifted Composer: so that "_I've got 'em on_," with its
+enthusiastically treble-encored whiskey fling, capitally danced by
+Miss NITA COLE as _Nance_, with Mr. DENNY as _The McCrankie_, may be
+considered as the real hit of the evening, having in itself about
+as much to do with whatever there is of the plot as would have the
+entrance of Mr. JOEY GRIMALDI, in full Clown's costume, with "Here
+we are again!" Of the music, as there was very little to catch and
+take away, one had to leave it. Of course this seriously comic or
+comically serious Opera is drawing--["_Music_," observes Mr. WAGG,
+parenthetically, "cannot be _drawing_"]--and will continue to do
+so for some little time, long enough at all events to reimburse
+Mr. D'OYLY CARTE for his more than usually lavish outlay on the
+_mise-en-scčne._
+
+ [Illustration:"Christmas is comin'!"
+ The McClown of McClown dancing.
+ The Reel Hit of the Opera.
+
+In the Second Act, the mechanical change from the exterior of Haddon
+Hall to the interior, must be reckoned as among the most effective
+transformations ever seen on any stage. It would be still more so if
+the time occupied in making it were reduced one-half, and the storm
+in the orchestra, and the lightning seen through black gauze on stage
+were omitted. The lightning frightens nobody, only amuses a few,
+and in itself is no very great attraction. Even if these flashes
+were a very striking performance; no danger to the audience need
+be apprehended from it, seeing that Mr. CELLIER is in front as
+"Conductor." Perhaps Mr. D'OYLY CARTE, noticing that Mr. GRUNDY calls
+his piece "a light Opera," thought that, as it wasn't quite up to this
+description, it would be as well if the required "light'ning" were
+brought in somewhere, and so he introduced it here. If this be so, it
+is about the only flash of genius in the performance.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: POST-PRANDIAL PESSIMISTS.
+
+SCENE--_The Smoking-room at the Decadents._
+
+_First Decadent_ (_M.A. Oxon._). "AFTER ALL, SMYTHE, WHAT WOULD LIFE
+BE WITHOUT COFFEE?"
+
+_Second Decadent_ (_B.A. Camb._). "TRUE, JEOHNES, TRUE! AND YET, AFTER
+ALL, WHAT IS LIFE _WITH_ COFFEE?"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"CROSSING THE BAR."
+
+IN MEMORIAM.
+
+ALFRED LORD TENNYSON.
+
+BORN, AUGUST 5, 1809. DIED, OCTOBER 6, 1892.
+
+"TALIESSEN is our fullest throat of song."--_The Holy Grail_.
+
+ Our fullest throat of song is silent, hushed
+ In Autumn, when the songless woods are still,
+ And with October's boding hectic flushed
+ Slowly the year disrobes. A passionate thrill
+ Of strange proud sorrow pulses through the land,
+ His land, his England, which he loved so well:
+ And brows bend low, as slow from strand to strand
+ The Poet's passing bell
+ Sends forth its solemn note, and every heart
+ Chills, and sad tears to many an eyelid start.
+
+ Sad tears in sooth! And yet not wholly so.
+ Exquisite echoes of his own swan-song
+ Forbid mere murmuring mournfulness; the glow
+ Of its great hope illumes us. Sleep, thou strong
+ Full tide, as over the unmeaning bar
+ Fares this unfaltering darer of the deep,
+ Beaconed by a Great Light, the pilot-star
+ Of valiant souls, who keep
+ Through the long strife of thought-life free from scathe
+ The luminous guidance of the larger faith.
+
+ No sadness of farewell? Great Singer, crowned
+ With lustrous laurel, facing that far light,
+ In whose white radiance dark seems whelmed and drowned,
+ And death a passing shade, of meaning slight;
+ Sunset, and evening star, and that clear call,
+ The twilight shadow, and the evening bell,
+ Bring naught of gloom for thee. Whate'er befall
+ Thou must indeed fare well.
+ But we--we have but memories now, and love
+ The plaint of fond regret will scarce reprove.
+
+ Great singer, he, and great among the great,
+ Or greatness hath no sure abiding test.
+ The poet's splendid pomp, the shining state
+ Of royal singing robes, were his, confest,
+ By slowly growing certitude of fame,
+ Since first, a youth, he found fresh-opening portals
+ To Beauty's Pleasure-House. Ranked with acclaim
+ Amidst the true Immortals,
+ The amaranth fields with native ease he trod,
+ Authentic son of the lyre-bearing god.
+
+ Fresh portals, untrod pleasaunces, new ways
+ In Art's great Palace, shrined in Nature's heart,
+ Sought the young singer, and his limpid lays,
+ O'er sweet, perchance, yet made the quick blood start
+ To many a cheek mere glittering; rhymes left cold.
+ But through the gates of Ivory or of Horn
+ His vivid vision flocked, and who so bold
+ As to repulse with scorn
+ The shining troop because of shadowy birth.
+ Of bodiless passion, or light tinkling mirth?
+
+ But the true god-gift grows. Sweet, sweet, still sweet
+ As great Apollo's lyre, or Pan's plain reed,
+ His music flowed, but slowly he out-beat
+ His song to finer issues. Fingers fleet,
+ That trifled with the pipe-stops, shook grand sound
+ From the great organ's golden mouths anon.
+ A mellow-measured might, a beauty bound
+ (As Venus with her zone)
+ By that which shaped from chaos Earth, Air, Sky,
+ The unhampering restraint of Harmony.
+
+ Hysteric ecstasy, new fierce, now faint,
+ But ever fever-sick, shook not his lyre
+ With epileptic fervours. Sensual taint
+ Of satyr heat, or bacchanal desire,
+ Polluted not the passion of his song;
+ No corybantic clangor clamoured through
+ Its manly harmonies, as sane as strong;
+ So that the captious few
+ Found sickliness in pure Elysian balm,
+ And coldness in such high Olympian calm.
+
+[Illustration: "CROSSING THE BAR."
+ "TWILIGHT AND EVENING BELL, AND AFTER THAT THE DARK"
+ "AND MAY THERE BE NO SADNESS OF FAREWELL, WHEN I EMBARK."--TENNYSON.]
+
+ Impassioned purity, high minister
+ Of spirit's joys, was his, reserved, restrained.
+ His song was like the sword Excalibur
+ Of his symbolic knight; trenchant, unstained.
+ It shook the world of wordly baseness, smote
+ The Christless heathendom of huckstering days.
+ There is no harshness in that mellow note,
+ No blot upon those bays;
+ For loyal love and knightly valour rang
+ Through rich immortal music when he sang.
+
+ ARTHUR, his friend, the Modern Gentleman,
+ ARTHUR, the hero, his ideal Knight,
+ Inspired his strains. From fount to flood they ran
+ A flawless course of melody and light.
+ A Christian chivalry shone in his song
+ From Locksley Hall to shadowy Lyonnesse,
+ Whence there stand forth two figures, stately, strong,
+ Symbols of spirit's stress;
+ The blameless King, saintship with scarce a blot,
+ And song's most noble sinner, LANCELOT.
+
+ Lover of England, lord of English hearts,
+ Master of English speech, painter supreme
+ Of English landscape! Patriot passion starts
+ A-flame, pricked by the words that glow and gleam
+ In those imperial pćans, which might arm
+ Pale cowards for the fray. Touched by his hand
+ The simple sweetness, and the homely charm
+ Of our green garden-land
+ Take on a witchery as of Arden's glade,
+ Or verdant Vallombrosa's leafy shade.
+
+ The fragrant fruitfulness of wood and wold,
+ Of flowery upland, and of orchard-lawn,
+ Lit by the lingering evening's softened gold,
+ Or flushed with rose-hued radiance of the dawn;
+ Bird-music beautiful; the robin's trill,
+ Or the rook's drowsy clangour; flats that run
+ From sky to sky, dusk woods that drape the hill,
+ Still lakes that draw the sun;
+ All, all are mirror'd in his verse, and there
+ Familiar beauties shine most strangely fair.
+
+ Poet, the pass-key magical was thine,
+ To Beauty's Fairy World, in classic calm
+ Or rich romantic colour. Bagdat's shrine
+ By sheeny Tigris, Syrian pool and palm,
+ Avilion's bowery hollows, Ida's peak,
+ The lily-laden Lotos land, the fields
+ Of amaranth! What may vagrant Fancy seek
+ More than thy rich song yields,
+ Of Orient odour, Faëry wizardry,
+ Or soft Arcadian simplicity?
+
+ From all, far Faëry Land, Romance's realm,
+ Green English homestead, cloud-crown'd Attic hill,
+ The Poet passes--whither? Not the helm
+ Of wounded ARTHUR, lit by light that fills
+ Avilion's fair horizons, gleamed more bright
+ Than does that leonine laurelled visage now,
+ Fronting with steadfast look that mystic Light.
+ Grave eye, and gracious brow
+ Turn from the evening bell, the earthly shore,
+ To face the Light that floods him evermore.
+
+ Farewell! How fitlier should a poet pass
+ Than thou from that dim chamber and the gleam
+ Of poor earth's purest radiance? Love, alas!
+ Of that strange scene must long in sorrow dream.
+ But we--we hear thy manful music still!
+ A royal requiem for a kingly soul!
+ No sadness of farewell! Away regret,
+ When greatness nears its goal!
+ We follow thee, in thought, through light, afar
+ Divinely piloted beyond the bar!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+TO MY SWEETHEART.
+
+ ["Those roses you bought and gave to me are marvels. They are
+ still alive."--_Her Letter_.]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ A Hothouse where some roses blew,
+ And, whilst the outer world was white,
+ The gentle roses softly grew
+ To fragrant visions of delight.
+
+ Some wretched florist owned them all,
+ And plucked them from their native bowers,
+ Then gaily showed them on his stall
+ To swell the ranks of "Fresh-Cut Flowers."
+
+ _Some_ went beside a bed of pain
+ Where influenza claimed its due;
+ They drooped and never smiled again,
+ The epidemic had them too.
+
+ A gay young gallant bought some buds,
+ And jauntily went out to dine
+ With other reckless sporting bloods,
+ Who talked of women, drank of wine;
+
+ But whilst they talked, and smoked, and drank,
+ And told tales not too sanctified.
+ Abashed the timid blossoms shrank,
+ Changed colour, faded, and then died.
+
+ Yet roses, too, I gave to you,
+ I saw you place them near your heart,
+ You wore them all the evening through,
+ You wore them when we came to part.
+
+ But now you write to me, my dear,
+ And marvel that they are not dead,
+ Their beauty does not disappear,
+ Their fragrant perfume has not fled.
+
+ The reason's plain. Somehow aright
+ The flowers know if we ignore them.
+ The roses live for sheer delight
+ At knowing, Sweetheart, that _you_ wore them.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THOUGHTS--NOT WORTH A PENNY.
+
+(_FRAGMENT FROM THE BURLESQUE-ROMANCE OF "NO CENTS; OR, THE NEW
+CRITICISM."_)
+
+The Critic of the new cult visited a tailor's establishment, and was
+delighted with all he saw. There were coats, and vests, and other
+garments.
+
+"I make some fifty per cent. profit," said the proprietor of the
+establishment, stroking his moustache with a hand adorned with many a
+diamond ring. "Of course it causes some labour, thought, and time--but
+I get my money for my trouble."
+
+"And why not?" replied the Critic. "Are you not worth it? Do you not
+devote your energy to it? Must you not live?"
+
+And, having said this, the Reviewer visited another place of business.
+This time he had entered the office of a Stockbroker.
+
+"Of course it is rather anxious work sometimes," said the alternative
+representative of a bull and a bear. "But it pays in the long run.
+I manage to keep up a house in South Kensington, and a carriage and
+pair, out of my takings."
+
+"Again, why not?" responded the Critic. "You have a wife and family.
+Must you not live?" Then the Critic visited Cheesemongers, and
+Bankers, Solicitors, and Upholsterers. At last, he reached the modest
+abode of an Author.
+
+"Ah!" said he, in a tone of contempt; "you write books and plays! Why?
+
+"Why, to sell them," answered the Poet, in a faltering voice.
+
+"Sell them!" echoed the Critic, in tones of thunder. "What do you mean
+by that?"
+
+"Why, one must live!"
+
+"Nonsense! The universe can get on very well without anyone. You might
+be dispensed with; and, if it comes to that, so might I. Yes, I am not
+wanted."
+
+"Quite true!" murmured the Author; "indeed, you are not!"
+
+"And, after all, what _is_ your work? Mere brain action! Anyone who
+could wield a pen could do it for you! And you expect to be paid, as
+if you were a tradesman--a Tailor or an Upholsterer!"
+
+"But am I not a man and a brother? Do I not get hungry, like anyone
+else? Have I not a wife and family?"
+
+"That is entirely beside the question," persisted the Critic. "All you
+have to consider are the claims of Art. Now, Art is not to be served
+by paid votaries."
+
+"Then I suppose am unworthy," replied the Author, mournfully shaking
+his head. Well, let us exchange places. You shall be the Author, and
+I will be the Critic."
+
+"Very sorry, my dear friend, but that is an unjust division. By that
+means you would receive all the money."
+
+"And why not? If I am to write, why am I not to be paid?"
+
+"Because it is beneath the dignity of an Author to write with a view
+to obtaining cash."
+
+"Indeed! Well, I am tired of work. You have nothing to do but
+criticise. Let us swap positions."
+
+"Are you mad?" shouted the Critic. "Why, I am fond of my work. You
+don't imagine I am going to give up my salary to you? Why, it would
+demoralise you. I know the drawback of the system." And the Author
+applied himself to the study of the New Criticism, and it seemed as
+great a mystery to him as ever.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS.
+
+_Mount Street, Grosvenor Square_.
+
+DEAR MR. PUNCH,
+
+Nothing but a keen sense of duty, coupled with the possession of _the_
+smartest thing in waterproof overcoats ever seen, would have tempted
+me to go racing last week; but the claims of Hurst Park were not to
+be denied, and my reward was, assisting at perhaps the most successful
+meeting ever held there--(the backers "went down" to a man, and so
+did the excellent lunch--so what more _could_ you want?)--and, in
+addition, being told by at least twenty people, the name of the winner
+of the Cesarewitch!--they all named different horses, so that _one_ is
+almost certain to be able to say next week, in that annoying tone of
+voice people adopt after a successful prophecy--(this does _not_ apply
+to Just Prophets, who are notoriously modest in success)--"_There_!
+I _told_ you it was a certainty for _Whiteface_!--couldn't lose!--_of
+course_ you backed it, after what I told you!"--which of course was
+the very reason why you _hadn't_ backed it; however--as he may really
+be able to tell you something on a future occasion, you put on a
+ghastly smile, and say--"Oh, yes--I had a trifle on--but my _money_
+was on _Blackfoot_ before you told me--but it got me out!"--and it
+does "get you out" too, for nothing is more annoying than to be told
+you "ought to have won a good stake!"
+
+However, with regard to the great race next week, I am fortunately
+able to set aside all "information received," because I have had _a
+dream_!--not one of the ordinary lobster-salad kind of racing-dreams
+one reads about--(naturally _I_ should not have an inferior kind,
+having ordered in a stock of the "best selected," one to be taken
+every night at bed-time)--in which the dreamer only sees _one_
+horse--but a most complicated affair, from which it will be an easy
+task for anyone skilled in dream-lore to extract the winner!
+
+Well--I had been rather upset during the day, so to quiet my nerves,
+on reaching home, I took, before going to bed, just a little _Golden
+Drop_ of _Brandy_ as an _Insurance_ against restlessness--went
+to sleep, and dreamt that my friends _Lady Villikins_ and _Madame
+d'Albany_, with their maid _Helen Ware_, were attacked on their way
+from _Illsley_ to _Weymouth_, by some _Dare Devil_ of a _Circassian_,
+whose horse's hoofs rang in a _Metallic_ manner on the road! They were
+rescued in the pass of _Ben Avon_ by the gallant _Burnaby_, who after
+a long _Rigmarole_, squared their captor, _Roy Neil_, with a _Hanover
+Jack_, and acted as their _Pilot_ to safe quarters at _Versailles_!
+There!--that was my dream--and I think it points most conclusively
+to the winner; and, anyone unable to pick the right one, need only
+back them _all_, and there you are!--or at least you _may_ be. If
+they don't care to do this, they can avail themselves of my verse
+selection--which I did _not_ dream--and which, therefore, is _quite_
+as reliable.
+
+Yours, devotedly, LADY GAY.
+
+CESAREWITCH SELECTION.
+
+ Oh, _Weymouth_ is a pleasant _place_,
+ And bathing tents are handy;
+ When coming out, if white your face,
+ Why, take a nip of _Brandy_.
+
+P.S.--This advice is not intended for confirmed Topers.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"SUR LE TAPIS."--If the new Carpet Knight, Sir BLONDEL MAPLE--which is
+our troubadourish way of spelling it--be exceptionally successful on
+the Turf, isn't he just the man to "make his 'pile' and cut it"?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: A CONTENTED MIND.
+
+_He_. "A--THE FACT IS, I DON'T CARE FOR POPULARITY. I ONLY WISH MY
+BOOKS TO BE ADMIRED BY THOSE WHOSE ADMIRATION IS REALLY WORTH HAVING!"
+
+_She_. "AND WHO ARE THEY?"
+
+_He_. "THOSE WHO ADMIRE MY BOOKS!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+Not the least interesting figure in the circle of _The Racing Life of
+Lord George Bentinck_, which Messrs. BLACKWOOD produce in a handsome
+volume, is that of JOHN KENT, who, under the editorship of Mr. FRANK
+LAWLEY, tells the story. KENT was trainer to Lord GEORGE during
+the period when, to quote the characteristic Disraelian phrase,
+his Lordship became "Lord Paramount of the Turf." It is forty-four
+years since Lord GEORGE was found lying dead on his face in the
+water-meadows near Welbeck Abbey. Yet KENT remembers all about
+him--his six feet of height, his long black frock-coat, his velvet
+waistcoat, his gold chain, and his "costly cream-coloured satin scarf
+of great length, knotted under his chin, with a gold pin stuck in
+it." These scarves cost twenty shillings a-piece, and it was one of
+Lord GEORGE's fancies never to wear one a second time. When he died
+whole drawersful of them were found, and honest JOHN KENT purchased
+half-a-dozen from his Lordship's valet, who seems to have kept his
+eye on them. Did he ever wear them on Sundays? My Baronite who has
+been reading the book trows not. JOHN KENT knows his place better
+than that, and when he goes the way that masters and servants tread
+together, the scarves will doubtless be found tucked away in _his_
+chest of drawers. My Baronite is not able to take the same lofty view
+of the defunct nobleman who played at politics and worked at racing as
+does his faithful old servitor. Lord GEORGE seems to have been, as the
+cabman observed of the late JOHN FORSTER, "a harbitery gent," kind to
+those who faithfully serve him (as one is kind to a useful hound),
+but relentless to any who offended him or crossed his path. Moreover,
+whilst, as his biographer devoutly says, he purified the turf, he was
+not, upon occasion, above fighting blacklegs with their own weapons.
+The book gives clear glimpses of men and times which, less than half
+a century dead, will never live again. It pleasantly testifies that,
+though no man may be a hero to his valet, Lord GEORGE BENTINCK remains
+one in the eyes of his trainer.
+
+The Baron not having read a three-volume novel for some considerable
+time, may safely affirm, instead of taking his oath, that Mrs.
+OLIPHANT's _The Cuckoo in the Nest_ is one of the best he has come
+across for quite two months. It opens well, and if it drops a bit
+about the middle, there are all sorts of surprises yet in store for
+the reader, who, the Baron assures him or her, will be rewarded for
+his, or her, perseverance.
+
+The Baron begs to recommend the latest volume of the Whitefriars
+Library, called _King Zub_, by W.H. POLLOCK. _Zub_ is a wise poodle,
+and the waggish tale of the dog gives the name to the collection.
+_The Fleeting Show_ is quite on a par with _The Green Lady_ in a
+former collection by the same author, and such other stories as _Sir
+Jocelyn's Cap_ and _A Phantom Fish_ will delight those who, like the
+Baron, love the mixture as before of the weird and the humorous. In
+the _Phantom Fish_ there is much local dialect, and The Baron coming
+across the expression, "a proper bender," is inclined to ask if this
+is not Zummerzetsheer for, and only applicable to, a running hare? The
+Baron remembers the expression well, though 'tis years since he heard
+it, and owns to being uncertain as to whether it is not Devonian or
+Cornish. That he heard it applied to a hare apparent he is prepared
+to make oath and say; but he is not in the least prepared to assert
+that it is not generally applied as an expression of admiration for
+adroitness in avoiding pursuit. "Be that as it may, give me _King Zub_
+and the other stories, a good fire, a glass of spiritual comfort, a
+cosy chair, and a soothing pipe, and I am prepared to spend a pleasant
+evening," says
+
+THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: MR. PUNCH'S DEER-STALKING PARTY.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+CONVERSATIONAL HINTS FOR YOUNG SHOOTERS.
+
+(_BY MR. PUNCH'S OWN GROUSE IN THE GUN-ROOM._)
+
+In our last (it is _Mr. Punch_ who speaks), we indicated very briefly
+the conversational possibilities of the Gun. It must be observed, that
+this treatise makes no pretensions to be exhaustive. Something must,
+after all, be left to the ingenuity of the young shooter who desires
+to talk of sport. All that these hints profess, is to put him in the
+way of shining, if there is a certain amount of natural brightness to
+begin upon. The next subject will be--
+
+CARTRIDGES.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+To a real talker, this subject offers an infinite variety of
+opportunities. First, you can begin to fight the battle of the
+powders, as thus:--
+
+"What powder are you shooting with this year, CHALMERS?"
+
+"Schultze."
+
+"How do you find it kill?"
+
+"Deadly--absolutely-deadly: best lot I've ever had."
+
+You need not say anything more now. The discussion will get along
+beautifully without you, for you will have drawn, (1), the man who
+very much prefers E.C., which he warrants to kill at a distance no
+other powder can attain to; (2), the man who uses E.C. or Schultze
+for his right barrel, and always puts a black-powder cartridge into
+his left; (3), the detester of innovations, who means to go on using
+the good old black-powder for both barrels as long as he lives; and
+(4), the man who is trying an entirely new patent powder, infinitely
+superior to anything else ever invented, and is willing to give
+everybody, not only the address of the maker, but half a dozen
+cartridges to try.
+
+You cannot make much of "charges" of powder. Good shots are dogmatic
+on the point, and ordinary shots don't bother their heads about it,
+trusting entirely to the man who sells them their cartridges. Still
+you might throw out, here and there, a few words about "drams" and
+"grains." Only, above all things, be careful _not_ to mention drams
+in connection with anything but black powder, nor grains, except with
+reference to Schultze or E.C. A laboriously-acquired reputation as a
+scientific shot has been known to be ruined by a want of clearness on
+this important point.
+
+"Shot." Conversationally much more valuable than powder. "Very few
+people agree," says a well-known authority; "as to what is the best
+size of shot to use, and many forget that the charge which will suit
+one gun, and one description of game, will not do as well for another.
+Usually, one gun will shoot better one size of shot than will another,
+and we may safely say, that large bores shoot large shot better than
+do smaller bores." This last sentence has the beautiful ring of a
+profound truism. Lay it by for use, and bring it out with emphasis in
+the midst of such disagreement and forgetfulness as are here alluded
+to. "If a shooter is a good shot," says the same classic, "he may
+use No. 6 early in the season, and only for partridges--afterwards,
+nothing but No. 5. To the average shot, No. 6 throughout the season."
+This sounds dreadfully invidious. If a good shot cannot kill grouse
+with No. 6, how on earth is a merely average shot to do the trick?
+But, in these matters, the conversationalist finds his opportunity.
+Only they must not be pushed too far. There was once a party of
+genial, light-hearted friends, who went out shooting. Early in the
+day, slight differences of opinion made themselves observed with
+reference to the size of shot. Lunch found them still more or less
+good-tempered, but each obstinately determined not to give way even by
+a fraction on the point under discussion.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Afterwards they began again. The very dogs grew ashamed of the
+noise, and went home. That afternoon there was peace in the world of
+birds--at least, on that particular shooting--and the next morning saw
+the shooting-parties of England reduced by one, which had separated
+in different dog-carts, and various stages of high dudgeon, for the
+railway station. So, please to be very, very careful. Use the methods
+of compromise. If you find your friend obstinately pinned to No. 5,
+when you have declared a preference for No. 6, meet him half-way,
+or even profess to be converted by his arguments. Or tell him the
+anecdote about the Irishman, who always shot snipe with No. 4,
+because, "being such a little bird, bedad, you want a bigger shot to
+get at the beggar." You can then inform him how you yourself once did
+dreadful execution among driven grouse in a gale of wind with No. 8
+shot, which you had brought out by mistake. You may object that you
+never, as a matter of fact, did this execution, never having even shot
+at all with No. 8. Tush! you are puling. If you are going to let a
+conscientious accuracy stand in your way like this, you had better
+become dumb when sporting talk is flying about. Of course you must not
+exaggerate too much. Only bumptious fools do that, and they are called
+liars for their pains. But a _little_ exaggeration, just a _soupçon_
+of romance, does no one any harm, while it relieves the prosaic
+dullness of the ordinary anecdote. So, swallow your scruples, and
+
+ Join the gay throng
+ That goes talking along,
+ For we'll all go romancing to-day.
+
+(_To be continued._)
+
+ * * * * *
+
+DOE VERSUS ROE(DENT).
+
+ ["The basements of the Royal Courts of Justice have lately
+ been invaded by swarms of mice. They have become very
+ audacious, and have penetrated into the Courts themselves,
+ whose walls are lined with legal volumes, the leaves of which
+ provide them with a rich feast."--_Daily Paper_.]
+
+ For students of the law to "eat
+ Their terms" is obviously right,
+ But to devour the books themselves
+ Is impolite.
+
+ Unfortunately Mr. STREET.
+ Who planned the legal edif-[=i]ce,
+ Designed a splendid trap for men,
+ But not for mice.
+
+ To view the Courts at midnight now,
+ The Courts all in the stilly Strand,
+ With rodents squeaking out their pleas,
+ That _would_ be grand!
+
+ No Ushers 'ush them; they consume
+ The stiffest calf you ever saw,
+ Developing, these curious beasts,
+ A taste for Law.
+
+ They fill--perhaps--the box wherein,
+ Twelve bothered men have often sat,
+ And try, with every proper form,
+ Some absent cat.
+
+ A fore-mouse probably they choose,
+ The culprit's advocate deride,
+ And fix upon that cat the guilt
+ Of mouseycide.
+
+ At the Refreshment-bars, perchance,
+ They eat the cakes, and drink the milk,
+ And in the Robing-room indulge
+ In "taking silk."
+
+ The Judges' sacred Bench itself
+ From scampering feet is not exempt;
+ With calmness they commit, of Court,
+ Frightful "contempt."
+
+ Through _Byles on Bills_ they eat their way;
+ Law "Digests" they at will digest;
+ Not even _Coke on Littleton_
+ Sticks on _their_ chests!
+
+ Wanted--the stodgiest Law-book out!
+ The Judges soon _must_ note these facts,
+ And try a copy of the Ju-
+ -dicature Acts!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+WHY THE FRENCH WON THE BOAT-RACE.
+
+(_ANSWERS SUPPLIED BY AN UNPREJUDICED BRITON._)
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Because the English Eight had had no practice on the Seine.
+
+Because the Londoners had had a fearful passage crossing the Channel.
+
+Because they smashed their boat, and had to have it repaired.
+
+Because the English steering might have been better.
+
+Because the weather was intolerable, and chiefly affected the
+Englishmen.
+
+Because the Londoners had no chance of pulling together.
+
+Because the French knew the course better than the English.
+
+Because the race should have been rowed weeks before.
+
+Because the race should not have been rowed for months.
+
+Because the British naturally liked to see the foreigners win.
+
+And last (and least), because the French had by far the better crew!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ECCLESIASTICAL INTELLIGENCE.--The style, title, office, and dignity
+of Archbishop of Canterbury, with all appurtenances thereto belonging,
+with all emoluments, spiritualities and temporalities appertaining,
+have been conferred by letters patent, under supreme authority,
+according to Act V. Henricus Noster in such cases made and provided,
+on the Rev. Mr. VINCENT, in consequence of the retirement of the Right
+Rev. ARTHUR STIRLING from the said office; the duties of which he so
+recently and so effectively performed between the hours of ten-thirty
+and eleven-fifteen every night for several months at the Theatre Royal
+Lyceum. We are in a position to add, that his resignation of this
+high and valuable office, has not taken place in consequence of any
+question as to the validity or invalidity of orders ("not admitted
+after 7·30"), nor has this step been rendered imperative by reason of
+any "irregularity" in "properties" or "appointments."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+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, October 15, 1892, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 103,
+October 15, 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, October 15, 1892
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Francis Burnand
+
+
+Release Date: March 24, 2005 [EBook #15453]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+ <h1>PUNCH,<br />
+ OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1>
+
+ <h2>Vol. 103.</h2>
+ <hr class="full" />
+
+ <h2>October 15, 1892.</h2>
+ <hr class="full" />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page169"
+ id="page169"></a>[pg 169]</span>
+
+ <h2>'ARRY AT 'ARRYGATE.</h2>
+
+ <h4>(<i>Second Letter.</i>)</h4>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:40%;">
+ <a href="images/169.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/169.png"
+ alt="" /></a>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>DEAR CHARLIE,&mdash;The post-mark, no doubt, will
+ surprise you. I'm still at the "Crown,"</p>
+
+ <p>Though I said in my last&mdash;wot wos true&mdash;I
+ was jest on the mizzle for town.</p>
+
+ <p>'Ad a letter from nunky, old man, with another small
+ cheque. Good old nunk!</p>
+
+ <p>So I'm in for a fortnit' more sulphur and slosh,
+ afore doing a bunk.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Ah! I've worked it, my pippin, I've worked it; gone
+ in for hexcursions all round,</p>
+
+ <p>To Knaresborough, Bolton, and Fountains. You know,
+ dear old pal, I'll be bound,</p>
+
+ <p>As hantiquities isn't my 'obby, and ruins don't
+ fetch me, not much!</p>
+
+ <p>I can't see their "beauty," no more than the charms
+ of some dowdy old Dutch.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>A Castle, all chunnicks of stone, or a Habbey, much
+ out of repair,</p>
+
+ <p>A skelinton Banquetting 'All, and a bit of a
+ broken-down stair,</p>
+
+ <p>May appear most perticular "precious" to them as the
+ picteresk cops;</p>
+
+ <p>But give me the sububs and stucco, smart villas, and
+ spick-and-span shops.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>"Up to date" is our <i>siney quay non</i> in these
+ days. <i>Fang der sickle</i>, yer know.</p>
+
+ <p>Wich is French for the same, I persoom, and them
+ phrases is now all the go.</p>
+
+ <p>Find 'em sprinkled all over the papers; in politics,
+ fashion, or art,</p>
+
+ <p>If you carnt turn 'em slick round yer tongue, you
+ ain't modern, or knowing, or smart.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Still a houting to Bolton ain't bad when the
+ <i>charry-bang's</i> well loaded up</p>
+
+ <p>With swell seven-and-sixpence-a-headers. <i>I</i>
+ felt like a tarrier-pup</p>
+
+ <p>On the scoop arter six weeks of kennel and drench in
+ the 'ands of a vet;</p>
+
+ <p>I'd got free of the brimstoney flaviour and went it
+ accordin', you bet!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>'Ad a day at a village called Birstwith. The most
+ tooralooralest scene,</p>
+
+ <p>'Oiler down among 'ills, dontcher know, ancient
+ trees and a jolly big green.</p>
+
+ <p>Reglar old Rip-van-Winkleish spot, sech as CALDECOTT
+ ought to ha' sketched.</p>
+
+ <p>Though I ain't noways nuts on the pastoral, even
+ Yours Truly wos fetched.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Pooty sight and no error, old pal! 'Twos a grand
+ "Aughticultural Show,"</p>
+
+ <p>So the "Progrum of Sports" told the public. Fruit,
+ flowers, and live poultry, yer know.</p>
+
+ <p>Big markee and a range of old 'en-coops, sports,
+ niggers, a smart local band,</p>
+
+ <p>Cottage gardemn', cheese, roosters, and races! Rum
+ mix, but I gave it a 'and.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>I do like to hencourage the joskins. One thing
+ though, wos fiddle-de-dee,</p>
+
+ <p>They 'ad a "Refreshment Tent," CHARLIE. 'Oh my!
+ Ginger-ale and weak tea!</p>
+
+ <p>Nothink stronger, old pal, s'elp me bob! Fancy
+ <i>me</i> flopping down on a form</p>
+
+ <p>A-munching plum-putty, and lapping Bohea as wos not
+ even warm!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>This 'ere 'Arrygate's short of amusements. There's
+ niggers and bands on the "Stray"</p>
+
+ <p>(Big lumpy old field in a 'ole, wich if properly
+ managed might pay.)</p>
+
+ <p>Mysterious Minstrels with masks on, a bleating
+ contralto in black,</p>
+
+ <p>With a orful tremoler, my pippin!&mdash;yus, these
+ are the pick of the pack.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Bit sick of "<i>Ta-ra-ra</i>" and "<i>Knocked
+ 'em</i>;" "<i>Carissimar</i>" gives me the 'ump,</p>
+
+ <p>For I 'ear it some six times per morning; and then
+ there's a footy old pump</p>
+
+ <p>Blows staggery toons on a post-'orn for full arf
+ a-hour each day,</p>
+
+ <p>To muster the mugs for a coach-drive. My heye and a
+ bandbox, it's gay!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>At the "Crown" we git up little barnies, to eke out
+ the 'Arrygate lot,</p>
+
+ <p>For even the Spa's a bit samesome for six times a
+ week when it's 'ot;</p>
+
+ <p>Though they do go it pooty permiskus with
+ pickter-shows, concerts, and such;</p>
+
+ <p>Yus, I must say they ladles it out fair and free,
+ for a sixpenny touch.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>But even yer Fancy Dress Balls, and yer lectures by
+ ANNIE BESANT,</p>
+
+ <p>All about Hastral Bodies and Hether, seems not
+ always <i>quite</i> wot yer want</p>
+
+ <p>To wile away time arter dinner. So thanks to that
+ gent&mdash;six-foot-four!&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>Who fair cuts the record as Droring-Room
+ M.C.&mdash;of course <i>hammytoor</i>.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Then we've conjurors, worblers, phrenologists! One
+ 'ad a go at <i>my</i> chump.</p>
+
+ <p>'E touzled my 'air up tremenjus, and said I'd no
+ hend of a bump</p>
+
+ <p>Of somethink he called "Happrybativeness." Feller
+ meant well, I suppose,</p>
+
+ <p>But I didn't quite relish his smile, nor his rummy
+ remarks on my nose.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>When a tall gurl as pooty as paint, and with cheeks
+ like a blush&mdash;rose in bloom,</p>
+
+ <p>'As 'er lamps all a-larf on yer face, and a giggle
+ goes round the whole room,</p>
+
+ <p>'Tisn't nice to sit square on a chair, with a feller
+ a-sharpening 'is wit</p>
+
+ <p>On your nob, and a rumpling your 'air till it's like
+ a birch-broom in a fit!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>One caper we 'ad, on the lawn, wos a spree and no
+ error, old man.</p>
+
+ <p>They call it a "Soap-Bubble Tournyment." Soapsuds, a
+ pipe, and a fan,</p>
+
+ <p>Four six&mdash;foot posts stuck in the ground with a
+ tape run around&mdash;them's the "props,"</p>
+
+ <p>And lawn-tennis ain't in it for larks. Oh, the
+ ladies did larf, though tip-tops!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Bit sniffy fust off. "Oh!" sez they, "wot a most
+ <i>hintellectual</i> game!"</p>
+
+ <p>But I noticed that them as sneered most wos most
+ anxious to win, all the same,</p>
+
+ <p>The gent he stands slap in the middle, and tries to
+ blow bubbles like fun,</p>
+
+ <p>Wich his pardner fans over the tape; don't it jest
+ keep the girls on the run!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Every bubble as crosses the tape afore busting
+ counts one to that pair,</p>
+
+ <p>And the pair as counts most wins the prize. They are
+ timed by a hegg-boiler. There!</p>
+
+ <p>It <i>wos</i> all a pantermime, CHARLIE, to see 'ow
+ them gurls scooted round,</p>
+
+ <p>Jest like Japanese jugglers, a-fanning the bubbles,
+ as <i>would</i> 'ug the ground.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Some gents wos fair frosts at the bizness; one
+ good-'earted trim little toff</p>
+
+ <p>Would blow with the bowl wrong end uppards. His
+ pardner went pink and flounced off.</p>
+
+ <p>He gurgled away like a babe with a pap-bottle,
+ guggle&mdash;gug&mdash;gug!</p>
+
+ <p>And I 'eard 'er a-giving 'im beans as 'e mizzled,
+ much down in the mug.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Owsomever, it ain't for amusements as 'Arrygate lays
+ itself hout;</p>
+
+ <p>So, dear boy, it's for doses and douches; and there
+ it scores freely, no doubt,</p>
+
+ <p>Wy, there's thirty-two Springs in the Bog
+ Field&mdash;a place like a graveyard gone
+ wrong&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>Besides Starbeck, the Tewit, and others, all narsty,
+ and most on 'em strong.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Since Sir SLINGSBY discovered the first one, now
+ close on three cent'ries ago,</p>
+
+ <p>Wot a lush of mixed mineral muck these 'ere
+ 'Arrygate Springs 'ave let flow!</p>
+
+ <p>Well, ere's bully for Brimstone, my bloater, and
+ 'ooray for 'Arrygate air!</p>
+
+ <p>Wich 'as done me most good I don't know, and I'm
+ scorched if I very much care!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>I know 'Arrygate girls cop the biscuit for beauty.
+ They've cheeks like the rose,</p>
+
+ <p>Their skin is jest strorberries and cream; it's the
+ sulphur, dear boy, I suppose.</p>
+
+ <p>As for me, I look yaller as taller alongside 'em
+ CHARLIE, wus luck!</p>
+
+ <p>I 'eard one call me saffron-faced sparrer, and jest
+ as I thought 'er fair struck.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>I'd nail 'em, in time, I've no doubt, when I once
+ got the 'ang of their style.</p>
+
+ <p>There's a gal at the Montpellier Baths. Scissoree!
+ 'ow I've tried for a smile,</p>
+
+ <p>When she tips me my tannersworth! Shucks! she's as
+ orty and stiff as yer please.</p>
+
+ <p>Primrose Dames isn't in it for snubs with these
+ arrygant 'Arrygatese!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>But I reckon my "Douche" is now due. Doctor BLACK's
+ that pertikler, old man.</p>
+
+ <p>These 'Arrygate doctors 'ave progrums&mdash;you've
+ got to pan out to their plan.</p>
+
+ <p>Up early, two swigs afore breakfust, and tubs when
+ they tell yer's the rule.</p>
+
+ <p>Well, the feller as flies to a Sawbones, and
+ <i>don't</i> toe the line is a fool.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Reglar Doctor-Shop, 'Arrygate is; see their photos
+ all over the town.</p>
+
+ <p>Mine is doing me dollups of good; I'm quite peckish,
+ and jest a bit brown.</p>
+
+ <p>I'm making the most of my time, and a-laying in all
+ I can carry.</p>
+
+ <p>So 'ere ends this budget of brimstone and baths from
+ your sulphur-soaked</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <p class="author">'ARRY.</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page170"
+ id="page170"></a>[pg 170]</span>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:100%;">
+ <h2>A FROG HE WOULD A-ROWING GO!</h2>
+
+ <h3 class="sc">A Sad Song of the International Boat
+ Race.</h3>
+
+ <h4>(<i>With Mr. Punch's cordial Compliments to the
+ victorious French Eight</i>.) AIR&mdash;"<i>A Frog he would
+ a-Wooing
+ go</i>."</h4><a href="images/170.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/170.png"
+ alt="A FROG HE WOULD A-ROWING GO!" /></a>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>A FROGGIE would a-rowing go,</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for Rowing!</p>
+
+ <p>To see if Big BULLIE could lick him or no;</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">With his boating form that's all
+ gammon and spinach.</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for British Rowing!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>So off he set with his boating-cap,</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for Rowing!</p>
+
+ <p>And swore at Big BULL he would just have a
+ slap!</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Which BULL declared was all gammon
+ and spinach!</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for British Rowing!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>"Pray, Mr. BULL, will you race with me?"</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for Rowing!</p>
+
+ <p>Says BULL, "If you like, but 'tis
+ fiddle-de-dee!</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">For FROG against BULL is all gammon
+ and spinach."</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for British Rowing!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>When they came to Andresy upon the Seine,</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for Rowing!</p>
+
+ <p>Big BULL pulled his hardest, but pulled in
+ vain,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">For he found his boasts were all
+ gammon and spinach.</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for British Rowing!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>For in spite of the brag, and the bounce, and
+ the chaff,</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for Rowing!</p>
+
+ <p>The FROG beat the BULL by a length and a
+ half,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">With your MOSSOP and JAMES, licked by
+ BOUDIN and CUZIN,</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho, says R.C. LEHMANN!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>"Pray, Mr. BULL, do you relish the spin?"</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for Rowing!</p>
+
+ <p>(Said FROGGIE.) "And were you cocksure you would
+ win,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">With your forty-one strokes all sheer
+ gammon and spinach?"</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for British
+ Rowing!</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page171"
+ id="page171"></a>[pg 171]</span>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>"Humph! Regular take-down!" said Big Mr.
+ BULL&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for Rowing!</p>
+
+ <p>"But, FROGGIE or not, by the lord you can
+ <i>pull</i>,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">With your much-decried
+ 'hang,'&mdash;'twas all gammon and spinach!</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for British Rowing!"</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>"Ha! Ha!" cried the FROG, "the old fable,
+ thought true"&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for Rowing!</p>
+
+ <p>"Is out of date now. I'm as big, BULL, as
+ <i>you</i>,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">As an oarsman, which is <i>not</i>
+ all gammon and spinach!"</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for British Rowing.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>So that in the end (for the present), you
+ see,</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for Rowing!</p>
+
+ <p>Of the race between Big BULL and Little
+ FROGGIE.</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">BULL's fame, in a boat, seems all
+ gammon and spinach.</p>
+
+ <p class="i10">Heigho for British Rowing!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:100%;">
+ <a href="images/171.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/171.png"
+ alt="LOOKING AHEAD." /></a>
+
+ <h3>LOOKING AHEAD.</h3>
+
+ <p><i>Miss Golightly</i> (<i>the Friend of the Family, and
+ to whom Sir Percy (the elder) has proposed</i>). "OF COURSE
+ I'M AWFULLY OBLIGED, SIR PERCY&mdash;BUT, SAY NOW, DON'T
+ YOU THINK THERE WOULD BE SOME DANGER OF MY FALLING IN LOVE
+ WITH YOUR ELDEST SON?"</p>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>MR. CHAUNCEY DEPEW, the well-known American lawyer, wonders
+ why on earth the British Government has not long ago given Home
+ Rule to Ireland. He encourages Mr. G.'s Ministry to do their
+ best in this direction, and chaunce-y it. We're always
+ delighted to welcome Mr. CHAUNCEY DEPEW in England, so let him
+ come over with a Depewtation to Mr. G. on the subject.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>EQUESTRIAN FRUIT.&mdash;At the Horticultural Show the
+ Baroness BURDETT-COUTTS exhibited a "Cob of ADAM's Early
+ Maize." No particulars are given. Was it 14'1 and a
+ weight-carrier? Being ADAM's, it must be about the oldest in
+ the world. "Maize" may be a misprint for "Mews." Next time the
+ Baroness must send a pear.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>PROBABLE DEDUCTION.&mdash;A pertinacious Salvation Army
+ Captain was worrying a Scotch farmer, whom he had met in the
+ train, with perpetual inquiries as to whether "he had been born
+ again of Water and the Spirit?" At last, McSANDY replied,
+ "Aweel, I dinna reetly ken how that may be, but my good old
+ feyther and mither took their toddy releegiously every nicht,
+ the noo."</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h3>THE AUSTRO-GERMAN OFFICER'S VADE-MECUM.</h3>
+
+ <p><i>Q.</i> You have heard of the Ride from Berlin to Vienna,
+ and <i>vice versâ</i>?</p>
+
+ <p><i>A.</i> Yes; and of the mishaps that befell many of the
+ competitors.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Q.</i> You mean their horses?</p>
+
+ <p><i>A.</i> What applies to the one applies to the other.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Q.</i> Some of the poor steeds died on the journey?</p>
+
+ <p><i>A.</i> I daresay&mdash;of course, it was hard work.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Q.</i> And you have read that, even when the poor horses
+ were fainting and refusing food, the riders still went on?</p>
+
+ <p><i>A.</i> Of course. The riders had magnificent pluck and
+ nerve.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Q.</i> What, to observe the anguish of their chargers
+ without emotion?</p>
+
+ <p><i>A.</i> No! The idea! I mean they had pluck and nerve in
+ spite of all discouragement to push on to the winning-post.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Q.</i> And what do you think this breaking down of the
+ horses proved?</p>
+
+ <p><i>A.</i> That, after all, the creatures were
+ brutes&mdash;only brutes!</p>
+
+ <p><i>Q.</i> Does not the suffering of these brutes
+ suggest&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p><i>A.</i> That the riders were brutes too?&mdash;Ah!</p>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>No further question put, the Answerer having
+ mastered the subject.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>IN EXCELSIS.&mdash;No better example of the methods employed
+ by Vivisectionists could be given than was presented at the
+ Church Congress last week, where in debate on this subject they
+ were all engaged in cutting up one another. The Bishop of
+ EDINBURGH, denouncing the morality of the Bishop of MANCHESTER
+ and of Bishop BARRY, was a rare sight. His Lordship said that
+ the morality of these two Bishops was "up in a balloon." Well,
+ surely this is morality of the most elevated description. These
+ Bishops are not "<i>in partibus</i>," but <i>in
+ nubibus</i>.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>IN WATER COLOURS.&mdash;The East London Waterworks Company
+ had a very successful meeting the other day. <i>Inter alia</i>
+ the Chairman said, that "the Waltham Well is a complete
+ success." <i>Ergo</i> let Well alone. That from this source
+ they still supplied "36 gallons per head." The heads must be
+ uncommonly hard to stand all this water on the brain. A
+ dividend of eight per cent. is, after all, a very pleasant
+ draught.</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page172"
+ id="page172"></a>[pg 172]</span>
+
+ <h2>"GREEN THE GUIDE."</h2>
+
+ <h4>(<i>A Sketch on a "Royal Blue" Car at Jersey.</i>)</h4>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p><i>On the Car is, among others, an</i> Elderly
+ Gentleman, <i>in a tall hat, with a quantity of wraps;
+ a</i> Stout Shopkeeper, <i>with a stouter Wife; a</i>
+ Serious Commercial Traveller, <i>and a couple of young</i>
+ "Shop-ladies"; a Morose Young Man, <i>who has "got out of
+ bed the wrong side" that morning, and another, who has
+ begun his potations rather early, and is in the muzzily
+ talkative mood. The Car is one of a long string of similar
+ vehicles, and is proceeding at a rapid rate along one of
+ the winding roads</i>.</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>The Muzzy Man</i>. Frivolous, am I? Well, we
+ <i>came</i> 'ere to be frivolous&mdash;to a certain extent.
+ Am I out of the way in anything I've said? Because I woke
+ this morning with a dry month, and I don't mind saying I've
+ had a little drop o' brandy since.</p>
+
+ <p><i>His Neighbour</i>. You might let people find out that
+ for themselves, <i>I</i> should think!</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Muzzy M.</i> No&mdash;I like to be honest and
+ straightforward, I do. I don't want to be out of the
+ <i>way</i>, you understand.</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Shopkeeper's Wife</i> (<i>to her Neighbour</i>).
+ This is a pretty part of the road we're on now&mdash;but,
+ lor! there's nothing 'ere to come up to the Isle of Man.
+ Douglas, now&mdash;that <i>is</i> a nice place, with all
+ them Music Halls! And the scenery&mdash;why, I'm sure I
+ felt sometimes as if I <i>must</i> stop, just to
+ <i>look</i> at it!</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Muzzy Man</i>. I consider scenery we're coming to
+ most beautiful I've seen for&mdash;for miles around. [<i>He
+ goes to sleep.</i></p>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:35%;">
+ <a href="images/172.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/172.png"
+ alt="'An elderly Gentleman, in a tall hat, with a quantity of wraps.'" />
+ </a>"An elderly Gentleman, in a tall hat, with a
+ quantity of wraps."
+ </div>
+
+ <p><i>The Shopkeeper</i> (<i>to the</i> Elderly G., <i>who
+ is shifting and turning about uneasily</i>). Lost anything,
+ Sir?</p>
+
+ <p><i>The E.G.</i> No&mdash;thank you, no. I was looking to
+ see whether GREEN the Guide was on the car. (<i>Shouts of
+ laughter are heard from the car behind</i>.) Ah,
+ <i>that's</i> GREEN the Guide! I wish he'd come on our
+ oar&mdash;very amusing fellow, Sir&mdash;capital
+ company!</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Morose M.</i> (<i>to the Young Lady 'on his
+ Left</i>) Who's GREEN the Guide?</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Y.L.</i> Oh, don't you know? He comes with the
+ cars and makes jokes and all that. I hope he'll come to
+ us.</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Mor. M.</i> <i>I</i> don't. I can do that sort of
+ thing for myself if I want to, I hope. [<i>With a
+ scowl.</i></p>
+
+ <p><i>The Y.L.</i> Well, there's no harm in
+ <i>hoping</i>!</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Serious Comm. T.</i> (<i>to his
+ neighbour&mdash;one of the Shop-ladies</i>). So you come
+ from Birmingham? Dear me, now. I used to be there very
+ often on business at one time. Do you know the Rev. Mr.
+ PODGER there? A good old gentleman, he is. I used to attend
+ his Chapel regular&mdash;most improving discourses he used
+ to give us. I am fond of a good Sermon, aren't you?
+ &amp;c.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>He imagines&mdash;not altogether
+ correctly&mdash;that he is producing an agreeable
+ impression.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>A Young Man in a Frock-coat, Canvas-shoes, and
+ Cloth-cap.</i> Scarborough? Yes, I've <i>been</i>
+ there&mdash;but I don't care about it much. You have to
+ <i>dress</i> such a lot there, y' know, and I like to come
+ out just as I am!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>The conversation, notwithstanding its brilliancy, is
+ beginning to flag&mdash;when the car is boarded by a
+ stalwart good-looking man, carrying a banjo, and wearing a
+ leather shoulder-belt with</i> "GREEN the Guide" <i>in
+ brass letters upon it; the</i> Elderly Gentleman, <i>and
+ most of the</i> Ladies <i>welcome him with effusion, while
+ the</i> Younger Men <i>appear to resent his
+ appearance.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>The Mor. M.</i> (<i>sotto voce</i>). If he's going to
+ play that old instrument of torture, I shall <i>howl</i>,
+ that's all!</p>
+
+ <p><i>Green the Guide</i> (<i>in a deep baritone
+ voice</i>). Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, I congratulate you
+ upon having a fine day for our excursion. My glass went up
+ three feet this morning.</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Morose Man</i> (<i>aggressively</i>). Was there
+ whiskey inside it?</p>
+
+ <p><i>Green the Guide</i>. No, Sir, it would have gone down
+ suddenly if there had been. (<i>The</i> Elderly G. <i>asks
+ for a song</i>.) I shall be delighted to entertain you to
+ the best of my ability. What would you like to have?</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Mor. M.</i> None of your songs&mdash;give us an
+ imitation&mdash;of a deaf and dumb man.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Green the G.</i> (<i>with perfect good-humour</i>). I
+ shall be happy to do the deaf man, Sir,&mdash;if you'll
+ help me by doing the dumb. (<i>The</i> Mor. M. <i>begins to
+ feel that he had better leave</i> GREEN the Guide
+ <i>alone.</i>) Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, I'll sing you a
+ good old-fashioned hunting-song, and I'll ask you to join
+ me in the Chorus.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>He sings "We'll all go out hunting to-day!"</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>The Mor. M.</i> (<i>after the First Verse</i>). The
+ beggar don't sing so badly. I will say <i>that</i> for him!
+ (<i>After the Third</i>.) Capital voice he has! Rattling
+ good Chorus, too! "Join the glad throng that goes laughing
+ along, and we'll all go a-hunting to-day!" (<i>At the
+ end.</i>) Bravo! encore! encore!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>His good-humour is suddenly and miraculously
+ restored.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>Green the G.</i> (<i>in a tone of instruction</i>).
+ You will notice that the thistle is very abundant just
+ here, Ladies and Gentlemen. The reason of <i>that</i>, is
+ that some years ago a vessel was wrecked on this part of
+ the coast which was sailing from Scotland with a cargo of
+ thistledown. (<i>Outcry of incredulity</i>.) If you don't
+ believe me, ask the Coachman.</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Coachman</i> (<i>stolidly</i>). It's a fact,
+ Gentlemen, I assure you.</p>
+
+ <p><i>G. the G.</i> The soil of Jersey is remarkably
+ productive; if you plant a sixpence, it will come up a
+ shilling in no time. The cabbages on this island grow to an
+ extraordinary height, frequently attaining twenty
+ feet&mdash;(<i>outcry</i>)&mdash;yes, if you measure up one
+ side, and down the other. (<i>They pass a couple of sheep
+ on a slope</i>.) The finest flock of sheep in the island.
+ The dark one is not black, only a little sunburnt. The
+ house you see on that hill over there was formerly slept in
+ by CHARLES THE SECOND. He left a pair of slippers behind
+ him&mdash;which have since grown into top-boots. There you
+ see the only windmill in this part of the
+ island&mdash;there <i>used</i> to be three, but it was
+ found there was not enough wind for them all. From here you
+ have a clear view of the coast of France; and, when the
+ wind is blowing in this direction, you have an excellent
+ opportunity of acquiring the French accent in all its
+ purity. (<i>This string of somewhat hoary chestnuts meets
+ with a success beyond their intrinsic merits, the</i>
+ Morose Man <i>being as much entertained as anybody</i>.) On
+ your right is an inland lake of fresh water&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Muzzy Man</i> (<i>waking up with sudden
+ interest</i>). Can you drink it with perfect impunity?</p>
+
+ <p><i>G. the G.</i> Depends how far you are accustomed to
+ it as a beverage, Sir. (<i>The car stops at an hotel</i>.)
+ We stop here two hours, Ladies and Gentlemen, to enable you
+ to lunch, and examine the caves afterwards. You can leave
+ anything you like on the cars except five-pound
+ notes&mdash;and they <i>might</i> get blown away!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <h3 class="sc">On the Way Home.</h3>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>The Shopkeeper's Wife</i> (<i>to her Husband</i>).
+ Ah, TOM, it's just as well you stayed behind&mdash;you'd
+ never have got through those caves! You wouldn't believe I
+ could ha' done it unless you'd seen me&mdash;clambering
+ down iron ladders, and jumping on to rocks, and squeezing
+ through tunnels, and then up a cliff like the side of a
+ house. I do <i>wish</i> you could ha' seen me, TOM!</p>
+
+ <p><i>Tom</i> (<i>philosophically</i>). Ah, well, I was
+ very comfortable where I was, settin' in the hotel room
+ there, smoking my pipe. GREEN the Guide gave us, "<i>Rocked
+ in the Cradle of the Deep</i>," in first-rate
+ style&mdash;he is a <i>singer</i>, and no mistake!</p>
+
+ <p><i>His Wife</i>. Lor, I wish I'd known he was going to
+ sing&mdash;I'd ha' stayed too! But here he is, waiting by
+ the road for us&mdash;I do hope he's going to sing
+ again!</p>
+
+ <p><i>Green the G.</i> (<i>mounting the car</i>). I fear I
+ am an unwelcome visitor.</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Eld. G.</i> (<i>graciously</i>). It would be the
+ first time in your life then, GREEN!</p>
+
+ <p><i>G. the G.</i> Well, the fact is, I come to levy a
+ little contribution on behalf of myself and the Coachman.
+ Times are hard, Gentlemen, and both of us have large
+ families to support. If you don't believe me, ask the
+ Coachman. (<i>The</i> Elderly G. <i>explains that his
+ wrappings prevent him from getting at his purse just then,
+ while the others contribute with more or less readiness and
+ liberality</i>.) Many thanks. Ladies and Gentlemen, on
+ behalf of myself and the Coachman, and to express my sense
+ of your generosity, I will sing you the great
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page173"
+ id="page173"></a>[pg 173]</span> Jersey National Song,
+ composed by myself, before leaving. (<i>He sings a ditty
+ with the following spirited Chorus</i>):&mdash;</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>There the streets are paved with granite. So neat
+ and clean</p>
+
+ <p>And lots of pretty, witty girls, are always to be
+ seen!</p>
+
+ <p>With the brave old Mi-litia, Our foes to defy!</p>
+
+ <p>And there they grow the Cabba-ges&mdash;Ten feet
+ high!</p>
+
+ <p>(<i>All together, Gentlemen, please</i>!) Yes, there
+ they grow the Cabbages, there they grow the Cabbages,
+ there they grow the Cabbages&mdash;Ten feet high!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p>Thank you, Gentlemen, I've sung that song a number of
+ times, and I never remember hearing the chorus better sung.
+ If you don't believe me, ask the Coachman.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Coachman.</i> <i>I've</i> never 'eard it better sung,
+ Ladies and Gentlemen, I assure you.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[GREEN the Guide <i>descends in a blaze of popularity,
+ and the "Royal Blue" rolls on in excellent spirits.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>POLITICAL TRAINING.</h2>
+
+ <p><i>Monday</i>.&mdash;Read Mr. CHAMBERLAIN's remarks on
+ abstinence from bodily exercise. Sold my bicycle, and gave away
+ all my rackets, bats, &amp;c. Resolved to follow the latest
+ system. Shall doubtless, by these means, reach Mr. C.'s high
+ position as a statesman and orator. Went out in a Bath-chair.
+ Five minutes after starting, man said he was not accustomed to
+ drag so heavy an invalid, and must rest a little. Tried a
+ speech&mdash;my maiden one&mdash;on the Disadvantages of Bodily
+ Exercise. He listened respectfully, and, when at last I had
+ finished, said he quite agreed with me, and that the fare was
+ seven shillings.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Tuesday</i>.&mdash;Have decided that exercise in a
+ Bath-chair is quite superfluous. Resolved to take exercise, for
+ the future, in a hammock, just outside the garden-door. Must
+ practise speech-making to the gardener. Good
+ idea&mdash;Orchids. Asked him what he thought about the new
+ Orchid. Miserable fool answered, "Awkud, zur? Dunno waht thaht
+ be." I said that was "awkud," and had to laugh at the highly
+ original side-splitter myself, as he never saw it.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Wednesday</i>.&mdash;Must really give up this long walk
+ to the garden-door. Shall never become a great statesman unless
+ I do. Resolved to take exercise in arm-chair in library. The
+ children's governess came in to fetch a book. Addressed her at
+ some length on Free Education. Afterwards, thought this subject
+ was somewhat ill-chosen, as her salary is so small.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Thursday</i>.&mdash;Really cannot stand this walking up
+ and down stairs. Shall remain for the future in my bed-room and
+ take exercise on sofa by fireside, as I feel chilly. Page came
+ in with coals. Reminded me of Policy of Scuttle. Spoke of this
+ at some length, and woke him up with difficulty when I had
+ finished. Felt rather unwell.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Friday</i>.&mdash;Dressing and undressing is certainly
+ needless fatigue, and evidently causes this headache and
+ general seediness. Shall take exercise in bed. Felt worse.
+ Female relatives anxious, and insist on medical attendance.
+ Assured them I was following the best system, and answered
+ their persistent demands by a short address on Home Rule.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Saturday</i>.&mdash;Felt so bad at five this morning,
+ that Doctor was fetched. Tried feebly to address him on the
+ Eight Hours' Question, when he said he never had any time to
+ think how long he worked. Explained my new system to him. He
+ said I should myself want a new system to stand such a course
+ of treatment. Then he pulled me out of bed, and insisted on my
+ walking ten miles as soon as I was dressed. Felt much better.
+ Shall abandon politics and become a farmer, having just heard
+ of an infallible system for growing wheat profitably.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>THE "RESTORATION" PERIOD.&mdash;Will the Chairmen of the
+ L.C. &amp; D. and the S.E. Lines unite their forces? After the
+ meeting on this subject last week, Sir EDWARD will have lots of
+ reason to listen to. But apart from every consideration of
+ <i>mal de mer</i>, and "From Calais to Dover," as the poet
+ sings "'Tis soonest over," there is not anywhere a better, and
+ we, who have suffered as greatly as the much-enduring Ulysses,
+ venture to assert not anywhere as good a luncheon as at the
+ "Restauration" (well it deserves the title!) of the Calais
+ Station. Every patriotic travelling Englishman must be
+ delighted to think that some few centuries ago we gave up
+ Calais. Had it been nowadays in English hands, why it might
+ even now be possessed of a "Refreshment Room" no better
+ than&mdash;any on our side of the Channel, for there is no
+ necessity to particularise. From Dover to Calais is the
+ shortest and best restorative'd route for the traveller,
+ whether ill or well, at sea.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>MOTTOES for the new Lord MAYOR. "<i>Nil obstet</i>," "<i>Nil
+ fortius</i>," and, from HORACE, "<i>Nil amplius oro</i>." This,
+ in answer to thousands of correspondents, is our last word on
+ the subject; so after this (except on the 9th of November), we
+ say&mdash;<i>nil</i>.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>SUCH A "LIGHT OPERA!"</h2>
+
+ <div class="figleft"
+ style="width:31%;">
+ <a href="images/173-1.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/173-1.png"
+ alt="'Pity a Poo' Bar-itone!'" /></a>"Pity a Poo'
+ Bar-itone!"
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:31%;">
+ <a href="images/173-2.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/173-2.png"
+ alt="" /></a>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>"Christmas is comin'!"</p>
+
+ <p>The McClown of McClown dancing.</p>
+
+ <p>The Reel Hit of the Opera.</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <p>Had Sir ARTHUR written the music for <i>The Mountebanks</i>,
+ and Sir BRIAN DE BOIS GILBERT the book of <i>Haddon Hall</i>,
+ both might have been big successes So, however, it was not to
+ be, and Sir ARTHUR chose this book by Mr. GRUNDY, which labours
+ under the disadvantages of being original, and of not owing
+ almost everything to a French source. It isn't every day of the
+ week that Mr. GRUNDY tumbles upon <i>A Pair of Spectacles</i>
+ in a volume of French plays. The period to which the very
+ slight and uninteresting story of <i>Haddon Hall</i> belongs is
+ just before the Restoration, but the dialogue of "the book" is
+ spiced with modern slang, both "up to date" (the date being
+ this present year of Grace, not sixteen hundred and sixty) and
+ out of date. The "out-of-date" slang, which is, "<i>I've got
+ 'em on"</i>&mdash;alluding to the Scotchman's
+ trousers&mdash;has by far the best of it, as it comes at the
+ end of the piece, and enjoys the honour of having been set to
+ music by the variously-gifted Composer: so that "<i>I've got
+ 'em on</i>," with its enthusiastically treble-encored whiskey
+ fling, capitally danced by Miss NITA COLE as <i>Nance</i>, with
+ Mr. DENNY as <i>The McCrankie</i>, may be considered as the
+ real hit of the evening, having in itself about as much to do
+ with whatever there is of the plot as would have the entrance
+ of Mr. JOEY GRIMALDI, in full Clown's costume, with "Here we
+ are again!" Of the music, as there was very little to catch and
+ take away, one had to leave it. Of course this seriously comic
+ or comically serious Opera is drawing&mdash;["<i>Music</i>,"
+ observes Mr. WAGG, parenthetically, "cannot be
+ <i>drawing</i>"]&mdash;and will continue to do so for some
+ little time, long enough at all events to reimburse Mr. D'OYLY
+ CARTE for his more than usually lavish outlay on the
+ <i>mise-en-scčne.</i></p>
+
+ <p>In the Second Act, the mechanical change from the exterior
+ of Haddon Hall to the interior, must be reckoned as among the
+ most effective transformations ever seen on any stage. It would
+ be still more so if the time occupied in making it were reduced
+ one-half, and the storm in the orchestra, and the lightning
+ seen through black gauze on stage were omitted. The lightning
+ frightens nobody, only amuses a few, and in itself is no very
+ great attraction. Even if these flashes were a very striking
+ performance; no danger to the audience need be apprehended from
+ it, seeing that Mr. CELLIER is in front as "Conductor." Perhaps
+ Mr. D'OYLY CARTE, noticing that Mr. GRUNDY calls his piece "a
+ light Opera," thought that, as it wasn't quite up to this
+ description, it would be as well if the required "light'ning"
+ were brought in somewhere, and so he introduced it here. If
+ this be so, it is about the only flash of genius in the
+ performance.</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page174"
+ id="page174"></a>[pg 174]</span>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:100%;">
+ <a href="images/174.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/174.png"
+ alt="POST-PRANDIAL PESSIMISTS." /></a>
+
+ <h3>POST-PRANDIAL PESSIMISTS.</h3>SCENE&mdash;<i>The
+ Smoking-room at the Decadents.</i>
+
+ <p><i>First Decadent</i> (<i>M.A. Oxon.</i>). "AFTER ALL,
+ SMYTHE, WHAT WOULD LIFE BE WITHOUT COFFEE?"</p>
+
+ <p><i>Second Decadent</i> (<i>B.A. Camb.</i>). "TRUE,
+ JEOHNES, TRUE! AND YET, AFTER ALL, WHAT IS LIFE <i>WITH</i>
+ COFFEE?"</p>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h3>"CROSSING THE BAR."</h3>
+
+ <h4>IN MEMORIAM.</h4>
+
+ <h2>Alfred Lord Tennyson.</h2>
+
+ <h4 class="sc">Born, August 5, 1809. Died, October 6,
+ 1892.</h4>
+
+ <center>
+ "TALIESSEN is our fullest throat of song."&mdash;<i>The
+ Holy Grail</i>.
+ </center>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Our fullest throat of song is silent, hushed</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">In Autumn, when the songless woods are
+ still,</p>
+
+ <p>And with October's boding hectic flushed</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Slowly the year disrobes. A passionate
+ thrill</p>
+
+ <p>Of strange proud sorrow pulses through the land,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">His land, his England, which he loved so
+ well:</p>
+
+ <p>And brows bend low, as slow from strand to
+ strand</p>
+
+ <p class="i6">The Poet's passing bell</p>
+
+ <p>Sends forth its solemn note, and every heart</p>
+
+ <p>Chills, and sad tears to many an eyelid start.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Sad tears in sooth! And yet not wholly so.</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Exquisite echoes of his own swan-song</p>
+
+ <p>Forbid mere murmuring mournfulness; the glow</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Of its great hope illumes us. Sleep, thou
+ strong</p>
+
+ <p>Full tide, as over the unmeaning bar</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Fares this unfaltering darer of the
+ deep,</p>
+
+ <p>Beaconed by a Great Light, the pilot-star</p>
+
+ <p class="i6">Of valiant souls, who keep</p>
+
+ <p>Through the long strife of thought-life free from
+ scathe</p>
+
+ <p>The luminous guidance of the larger faith.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>No sadness of farewell? Great Singer, crowned</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">With lustrous laurel, facing that far
+ light,</p>
+
+ <p>In whose white radiance dark seems whelmed and
+ drowned,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And death a passing shade, of meaning
+ slight;</p>
+
+ <p>Sunset, and evening star, and that clear call,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">The twilight shadow, and the evening
+ bell,</p>
+
+ <p>Bring naught of gloom for thee. Whate'er befall</p>
+
+ <p class="i6">Thou must indeed fare well.</p>
+
+ <p>But we&mdash;we have but memories now, and love</p>
+
+ <p>The plaint of fond regret will scarce reprove.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Great singer, he, and great among the great,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Or greatness hath no sure abiding
+ test.</p>
+
+ <p>The poet's splendid pomp, the shining state</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Of royal singing robes, were his,
+ confest,</p>
+
+ <p>By slowly growing certitude of fame,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Since first, a youth, he found
+ fresh-opening portals</p>
+
+ <p>To Beauty's Pleasure-House. Ranked with acclaim</p>
+
+ <p class="i6">Amidst the true Immortals,</p>
+
+ <p>The amaranth fields with native ease he trod,</p>
+
+ <p>Authentic son of the lyre-bearing god.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Fresh portals, untrod pleasaunces, new ways</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">In Art's great Palace, shrined in
+ Nature's heart,</p>
+
+ <p>Sought the young singer, and his limpid lays,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">O'er sweet, perchance, yet made the quick
+ blood start</p>
+
+ <p>To many a cheek mere glittering; rhymes left
+ cold.</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">But through the gates of Ivory or of
+ Horn</p>
+
+ <p>His vivid vision flocked, and who so bold</p>
+
+ <p class="i6">As to repulse with scorn</p>
+
+ <p>The shining troop because of shadowy birth.</p>
+
+ <p>Of bodiless passion, or light tinkling mirth?</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>But the true god-gift grows. Sweet, sweet, still
+ sweet</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">As great Apollo's lyre, or Pan's plain
+ reed,</p>
+
+ <p>His music flowed, but slowly he out-beat</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">His song to finer issues. Fingers
+ fleet,</p>
+
+ <p>That trifled with the pipe-stops, shook grand
+ sound</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">From the great organ's golden mouths
+ anon.</p>
+
+ <p>A mellow-measured might, a beauty bound</p>
+
+ <p class="i6">(As Venus with her zone)</p>
+
+ <p>By that which shaped from chaos Earth, Air, Sky,</p>
+
+ <p>The unhampering restraint of Harmony.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Hysteric ecstasy, new fierce, now faint,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">But ever fever-sick, shook not his
+ lyre</p>
+
+ <p>With epileptic fervours. Sensual taint</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Of satyr heat, or bacchanal desire,</p>
+
+ <p>Polluted not the passion of his song;</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">No corybantic clangor clamoured
+ through</p>
+
+ <p>Its manly harmonies, as sane as strong;</p>
+
+ <p class="i6">So that the captious few</p>
+
+ <p>Found sickliness in pure Elysian balm,</p>
+
+ <p>And coldness in such high Olympian calm.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Impassioned purity, high minister</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Of spirit's joys, was his, reserved,
+ restrained.</p>
+
+ <p>His song was like the sword Excalibur</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Of his symbolic knight; trenchant,
+ unstained.</p>
+
+ <p>It shook the world of wordly baseness, smote</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">The Christless heathendom of huckstering
+ days.</p>
+ </div>
+ </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page175"
+ id="page175"></a>[pg 175]</span>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:100%;">
+ <a href="images/175.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/175.png"
+ alt="'CROSSING THE BAR.'" /></a>
+
+ <h3>"CROSSING THE BAR."</h3>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>"TWILIGHT AND EVENING BELL,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">AND AFTER THAT THE DARK"</p>
+
+ <p>"AND MAY THERE BE NO SADNESS OF FAREWELL,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">WHEN I EMBARK."&mdash;TENNYSON.</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ </div><span class="pagenum"><a name="page177"
+ id="page177"></a>[pg 177]</span>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>There is no harshness in that mellow note,</p>
+
+ <p class="i6">No blot upon those bays;</p>
+
+ <p>For loyal love and knightly valour rang</p>
+
+ <p>Through rich immortal music when he sang.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>ARTHUR, his friend, the Modern Gentleman,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">ARTHUR, the hero, his ideal Knight,</p>
+
+ <p>Inspired his strains. From fount to flood they
+ ran</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">A flawless course of melody and
+ light.</p>
+
+ <p>A Christian chivalry shone in his song</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">From Locksley Hall to shadowy
+ Lyonnesse,</p>
+
+ <p>Whence there stand forth two figures, stately,
+ strong,</p>
+
+ <p class="i6">Symbols of spirit's stress;</p>
+
+ <p>The blameless King, saintship with scarce a
+ blot,</p>
+
+ <p>And song's most noble sinner, LANCELOT.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Lover of England, lord of English hearts,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Master of English speech, painter
+ supreme</p>
+
+ <p>Of English landscape! Patriot passion starts</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">A-flame, pricked by the words that glow
+ and gleam</p>
+
+ <p>In those imperial pćans, which might arm</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Pale cowards for the fray. Touched by his
+ hand</p>
+
+ <p>The simple sweetness, and the homely charm</p>
+
+ <p class="i6">Of our green garden-land</p>
+
+ <p>Take on a witchery as of Arden's glade,</p>
+
+ <p>Or verdant Vallombrosa's leafy shade.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>The fragrant fruitfulness of wood and wold,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Of flowery upland, and of
+ orchard-lawn,</p>
+
+ <p>Lit by the lingering evening's softened gold,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Or flushed with rose-hued radiance of the
+ dawn;</p>
+
+ <p>Bird-music beautiful; the robin's trill,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Or the rook's drowsy clangour; flats that
+ run</p>
+
+ <p>From sky to sky, dusk woods that drape the hill,</p>
+
+ <p class="i6">Still lakes that draw the sun;</p>
+
+ <p>All, all are mirror'd in his verse, and there</p>
+
+ <p>Familiar beauties shine most strangely fair.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Poet, the pass-key magical was thine,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">To Beauty's Fairy World, in classic
+ calm</p>
+
+ <p>Or rich romantic colour. Bagdat's shrine</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">By sheeny Tigris, Syrian pool and
+ palm,</p>
+
+ <p>Avilion's bowery hollows, Ida's peak,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">The lily-laden Lotos land, the fields</p>
+
+ <p>Of amaranth! What may vagrant Fancy seek</p>
+
+ <p class="i6">More than thy rich song yields,</p>
+
+ <p>Of Orient odour, Faëry wizardry,</p>
+
+ <p>Or soft Arcadian simplicity?</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>From all, far Faëry Land, Romance's realm,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Green English homestead, cloud-crown'd
+ Attic hill,</p>
+
+ <p>The Poet passes&mdash;whither? Not the helm</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Of wounded ARTHUR, lit by light that
+ fills</p>
+
+ <p>Avilion's fair horizons, gleamed more bright</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Than does that leonine laurelled visage
+ now,</p>
+
+ <p>Fronting with steadfast look that mystic Light.</p>
+
+ <p class="i6">Grave eye, and gracious brow</p>
+
+ <p>Turn from the evening bell, the earthly shore,</p>
+
+ <p>To face the Light that floods him evermore.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Farewell! How fitlier should a poet pass</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Than thou from that dim chamber and the
+ gleam</p>
+
+ <p>Of poor earth's purest radiance? Love, alas!</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Of that strange scene must long in sorrow
+ dream.</p>
+
+ <p>But we&mdash;we hear thy manful music still!</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">A royal requiem for a kingly soul!</p>
+
+ <p>No sadness of farewell! Away regret,</p>
+
+ <p class="i6">When greatness nears its goal!</p>
+
+ <p>We follow thee, in thought, through light, afar</p>
+
+ <p>Divinely piloted beyond the bar!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>TO MY SWEETHEART.</h2>
+
+ <blockquote class="note">
+ <p>["Those roses you bought and gave to me are marvels.
+ They are still alive."&mdash;<i>Her Letter</i>.]</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:35%;">
+ <a href="images/177.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/177.png"
+ alt="" /></a>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>A Hothouse where some roses blew,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And, whilst the outer world was
+ white,</p>
+
+ <p>The gentle roses softly grew</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">To fragrant visions of delight.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Some wretched florist owned them all,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And plucked them from their native
+ bowers,</p>
+
+ <p>Then gaily showed them on his stall</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">To swell the ranks of "Fresh-Cut
+ Flowers."</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p><i>Some</i> went beside a bed of pain</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Where influenza claimed its due;</p>
+
+ <p>They drooped and never smiled again,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">The epidemic had them too.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>A gay young gallant bought some buds,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And jauntily went out to dine</p>
+
+ <p>With other reckless sporting bloods,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Who talked of women, drank of wine;</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>But whilst they talked, and smoked, and drank,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And told tales not too sanctified.</p>
+
+ <p>Abashed the timid blossoms shrank,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Changed colour, faded, and then died.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Yet roses, too, I gave to you,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">I saw you place them near your heart,</p>
+
+ <p>You wore them all the evening through,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">You wore them when we came to part.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>But now you write to me, my dear,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And marvel that they are not dead,</p>
+
+ <p>Their beauty does not disappear,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Their fragrant perfume has not fled.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p class="i2">The reason's plain. Somehow aright</p>
+
+ <p>The flowers know if we ignore them.</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">The roses live for sheer delight</p>
+
+ <p>At knowing, Sweetheart, that <i>you</i> wore
+ them.</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>THOUGHTS&mdash;NOT WORTH A PENNY.</h2>
+
+ <h4>(<i>Fragment from the Burlesque-Romance of "No Cents; or,
+ The New Criticism."</i>)</h4>
+
+ <p>The Critic of the new cult visited a tailor's establishment,
+ and was delighted with all he saw. There were coats, and vests,
+ and other garments.</p>
+
+ <p>"I make some fifty per cent. profit," said the proprietor of
+ the establishment, stroking his moustache with a hand adorned
+ with many a diamond ring. "Of course it causes some labour,
+ thought, and time&mdash;but I get my money for my trouble."</p>
+
+ <p>"And why not?" replied the Critic. "Are you not worth it? Do
+ you not devote your energy to it? Must you not live?"</p>
+
+ <p>And, having said this, the Reviewer visited another place of
+ business. This time he had entered the office of a
+ Stockbroker.</p>
+
+ <p>"Of course it is rather anxious work sometimes," said the
+ alternative representative of a bull and a bear. "But it pays
+ in the long run. I manage to keep up a house in South
+ Kensington, and a carriage and pair, out of my takings."</p>
+
+ <p>"Again, why not?" responded the Critic. "You have a wife and
+ family. Must you not live?" Then the Critic visited
+ Cheesemongers, and Bankers, Solicitors, and Upholsterers. At
+ last, he reached the modest abode of an Author.</p>
+
+ <p>"Ah!" said he, in a tone of contempt; "you write books and
+ plays! Why?</p>
+
+ <p>"Why, to sell them," answered the Poet, in a faltering
+ voice.</p>
+
+ <p>"Sell them!" echoed the Critic, in tones of thunder. "What
+ do you mean by that?"</p>
+
+ <p>"Why, one must live!"</p>
+
+ <p>"Nonsense! The universe can get on very well without anyone.
+ You might be dispensed with; and, if it comes to that, so might
+ I. Yes, I am not wanted."</p>
+
+ <p>"Quite true!" murmured the Author; "indeed, you are
+ not!"</p>
+
+ <p>"And, after all, what <i>is</i> your work? Mere brain
+ action! Anyone who could wield a pen could do it for you! And
+ you expect to be paid, as if you were a tradesman&mdash;a
+ Tailor or an Upholsterer!"</p>
+
+ <p>"But am I not a man and a brother? Do I not get hungry, like
+ anyone else? Have I not a wife and family?"</p>
+
+ <p>"That is entirely beside the question," persisted the
+ Critic. "All you have to consider are the claims of Art. Now,
+ Art is not to be served by paid votaries."</p>
+
+ <p>"Then I suppose am unworthy," replied the Author, mournfully
+ shaking his head. Well, let us exchange places. You shall be
+ the Author, and I will be the Critic."</p>
+
+ <p>"Very sorry, my dear friend, but that is an unjust division.
+ By that means you would receive all the money."</p>
+
+ <p>"And why not? If I am to write, why am I not to be
+ paid?"</p>
+
+ <p>"Because it is beneath the dignity of an Author to write
+ with a view to obtaining cash."</p>
+
+ <p>"Indeed! Well, I am tired of work. You have nothing to do
+ but criticise. Let us swap positions."</p>
+
+ <p>"Are you mad?" shouted the Critic. "Why, I am fond of my
+ work. You don't imagine I am going to give up my salary to you?
+ Why, it would demoralise you. I know the drawback of the
+ system." And the Author applied himself to the study of the New
+ Criticism, and it seemed as great a mystery to him as ever.</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page178"
+ id="page178"></a>[pg 178]</span>
+
+ <h2>LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS.</h2>
+
+ <p class="author"><i>Mount Street, Grosvenor Square</i>.</p>
+
+ <p>DEAR MR. PUNCH,</p>
+
+ <p>Nothing but a keen sense of duty, coupled with the
+ possession of <i>the</i> smartest thing in waterproof overcoats
+ ever seen, would have tempted me to go racing last week; but
+ the claims of Hurst Park were not to be denied, and my reward
+ was, assisting at perhaps the most successful meeting ever held
+ there&mdash;(the backers "went down" to a man, and so did the
+ excellent lunch&mdash;so what more <i>could</i> you
+ want?)&mdash;and, in addition, being told by at least twenty
+ people, the name of the winner of the Cesarewitch!&mdash;they
+ all named different horses, so that <i>one</i> is almost
+ certain to be able to say next week, in that annoying tone of
+ voice people adopt after a successful prophecy&mdash;(this does
+ <i>not</i> apply to Just Prophets, who are notoriously modest
+ in success)&mdash;"<i>There</i>! I <i>told</i> you it was a
+ certainty for <i>Whiteface</i>!&mdash;couldn't
+ lose!&mdash;<i>of course</i> you backed it, after what I told
+ you!"&mdash;which of course was the very reason why you
+ <i>hadn't</i> backed it; however&mdash;as he may really be able
+ to tell you something on a future occasion, you put on a
+ ghastly smile, and say&mdash;"Oh, yes&mdash;I had a trifle
+ on&mdash;but my <i>money</i> was on <i>Blackfoot</i> before you
+ told me&mdash;but it got me out!"&mdash;and it does "get you
+ out" too, for nothing is more annoying than to be told you
+ "ought to have won a good stake!"</p>
+
+ <p>However, with regard to the great race next week, I am
+ fortunately able to set aside all "information received,"
+ because I have had <i>a dream</i>!&mdash;not one of the
+ ordinary lobster-salad kind of racing-dreams one reads
+ about&mdash;(naturally <i>I</i> should not have an inferior
+ kind, having ordered in a stock of the "best selected," one to
+ be taken every night at bed-time)&mdash;in which the dreamer
+ only sees <i>one</i> horse&mdash;but a most complicated affair,
+ from which it will be an easy task for anyone skilled in
+ dream-lore to extract the winner!</p>
+
+ <p>Well&mdash;I had been rather upset during the day, so to
+ quiet my nerves, on reaching home, I took, before going to bed,
+ just a little <i>Golden Drop</i> of <i>Brandy</i> as an
+ <i>Insurance</i> against restlessness&mdash;went to sleep, and
+ dreamt that my friends <i>Lady Villikins</i> and <i>Madame
+ d'Albany</i>, with their maid <i>Helen Ware</i>, were attacked
+ on their way from <i>Illsley</i> to <i>Weymouth</i>, by some
+ <i>Dare Devil</i> of a <i>Circassian</i>, whose horse's hoofs
+ rang in a <i>Metallic</i> manner on the road! They were rescued
+ in the pass of <i>Ben Avon</i> by the gallant <i>Burnaby</i>,
+ who after a long <i>Rigmarole</i>, squared their captor, <i>Roy
+ Neil</i>, with a <i>Hanover Jack</i>, and acted as their
+ <i>Pilot</i> to safe quarters at <i>Versailles</i>!
+ There!&mdash;that was my dream&mdash;and I think it points most
+ conclusively to the winner; and, anyone unable to pick the
+ right one, need only back them <i>all</i>, and there you
+ are!&mdash;or at least you <i>may</i> be. If they don't care to
+ do this, they can avail themselves of my verse
+ selection&mdash;which I did <i>not</i> dream&mdash;and which,
+ therefore, is <i>quite</i> as reliable.</p>
+
+ <p class="author">Yours, devotedly, LADY GAY.</p>
+
+ <h3 class="sc">Cesarewitch Selection.</h3>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Oh, <i>Weymouth</i> is a pleasant <i>place</i>,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And bathing tents are handy;</p>
+
+ <p>When coming out, if white your face,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Why, take a nip of <i>Brandy</i>.</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <p>P.S.&mdash;This advice is not intended for confirmed
+ Topers.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>"SUR LE TAPIS."&mdash;If the new Carpet Knight, Sir BLONDEL
+ MAPLE&mdash;which is our troubadourish way of spelling
+ it&mdash;be exceptionally successful on the Turf, isn't he just
+ the man to "make his 'pile' and cut it"?</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:50%;">
+ <a href="images/178.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/178.png"
+ alt="A CONTENTED MIND." /></a>
+
+ <h3>A CONTENTED MIND.</h3>
+
+ <p><i>He</i>. "A&mdash;THE FACT IS, I DON'T CARE FOR
+ POPULARITY. I ONLY WISH MY BOOKS TO BE ADMIRED BY THOSE
+ WHOSE ADMIRATION IS REALLY WORTH HAVING!"</p>
+
+ <p><i>She</i>. "AND WHO ARE THEY?"</p>
+
+ <p><i>He</i>. "THOSE WHO ADMIRE MY BOOKS!"</p>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2>
+
+ <p>Not the least interesting figure in the circle of <i>The
+ Racing Life of Lord George Bentinck</i>, which Messrs.
+ BLACKWOOD produce in a handsome volume, is that of JOHN KENT,
+ who, under the editorship of Mr. FRANK LAWLEY, tells the story.
+ KENT was trainer to Lord GEORGE during the period when, to
+ quote the characteristic Disraelian phrase, his Lordship became
+ "Lord Paramount of the Turf." It is forty-four years since Lord
+ GEORGE was found lying dead on his face in the water-meadows
+ near Welbeck Abbey. Yet KENT remembers all about him&mdash;his
+ six feet of height, his long black frock-coat, his velvet
+ waistcoat, his gold chain, and his "costly cream-coloured satin
+ scarf of great length, knotted under his chin, with a gold pin
+ stuck in it." These scarves cost twenty shillings a-piece, and
+ it was one of Lord GEORGE's fancies never to wear one a second
+ time. When he died whole drawersful of them were found, and
+ honest JOHN KENT purchased half-a-dozen from his Lordship's
+ valet, who seems to have kept his eye on them. Did he ever wear
+ them on Sundays? My Baronite who has been reading the book
+ trows not. JOHN KENT knows his place better than that, and when
+ he goes the way that masters and servants tread together, the
+ scarves will doubtless be found tucked away in <i>his</i> chest
+ of drawers. My Baronite is not able to take the same lofty view
+ of the defunct nobleman who played at politics and worked at
+ racing as does his faithful old servitor. Lord GEORGE seems to
+ have been, as the cabman observed of the late JOHN FORSTER, "a
+ harbitery gent," kind to those who faithfully serve him (as one
+ is kind to a useful hound), but relentless to any who offended
+ him or crossed his path. Moreover, whilst, as his biographer
+ devoutly says, he purified the turf, he was not, upon occasion,
+ above fighting blacklegs with their own weapons. The book gives
+ clear glimpses of men and times which, less than half a century
+ dead, will never live again. It pleasantly testifies that,
+ though no man may be a hero to his valet, Lord GEORGE BENTINCK
+ remains one in the eyes of his trainer.</p>
+
+ <p>The Baron not having read a three-volume novel for some
+ considerable time, may safely affirm, instead of taking his
+ oath, that Mrs. OLIPHANT's <i>The Cuckoo in the Nest</i> is one
+ of the best he has come across for quite two months. It opens
+ well, and if it drops a bit about the middle, there are all
+ sorts of surprises yet in store for the reader, who, the Baron
+ assures him or her, will be rewarded for his, or her,
+ perseverance.</p>
+
+ <p>The Baron begs to recommend the latest volume of the
+ Whitefriars Library, called <i>King Zub</i>, by W.H. POLLOCK.
+ <i>Zub</i> is a wise poodle, and the waggish tale of the dog
+ gives the name to the collection. <i>The Fleeting Show</i> is
+ quite on a par with <i>The Green Lady</i> in a former
+ collection by the same author, and such other stories as <i>Sir
+ Jocelyn's Cap</i> and <i>A Phantom Fish</i> will delight those
+ who, like the Baron, love the mixture as before of the weird
+ and the humorous. In the <i>Phantom Fish</i> there is much
+ local dialect, and The Baron coming across the expression, "a
+ proper bender," is inclined to ask if this is not
+ Zummerzetsheer for, and only applicable to, a running hare? The
+ Baron remembers the expression well, though 'tis years since he
+ heard it, and owns to being uncertain as to whether it is not
+ Devonian or Cornish. That he heard it applied to a hare
+ apparent he is prepared to make oath and say; but he is not in
+ the least prepared to assert that it is not generally applied
+ as an expression of admiration for adroitness in avoiding
+ pursuit. "Be that as it may, give me <i>King Zub</i> and the
+ other stories, a good fire, a glass of spiritual comfort, a
+ cosy chair, and a soothing pipe, and I am prepared to spend a
+ pleasant evening," says</p>
+
+ <p class="author">THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page179"
+ id="page179"></a>[pg 179]</span>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:100%;">
+ <a href="images/179.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/179.png"
+ alt="MR. PUNCH'S DEER-STALKING PARTY." /></a>
+
+ <h3>MR. PUNCH'S DEER-STALKING PARTY.</h3>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page180"
+ id="page180"></a>[pg 180]</span>
+
+ <h2>CONVERSATIONAL HINTS FOR YOUNG SHOOTERS.</h2>
+
+ <h4>(<i>By Mr. Punch's own Grouse in the Gun-room.</i>)</h4>
+
+ <p>In our last (it is <i>Mr. Punch</i> who speaks), we
+ indicated very briefly the conversational possibilities of the
+ Gun. It must be observed, that this treatise makes no
+ pretensions to be exhaustive. Something must, after all, be
+ left to the ingenuity of the young shooter who desires to talk
+ of sport. All that these hints profess, is to put him in the
+ way of shining, if there is a certain amount of natural
+ brightness to begin upon. The next subject will be&mdash;</p>
+
+ <h3 class="sc">Cartridges.</h3>
+
+ <div class="figleft"
+ style="width:22%;">
+ <a href="images/180-1.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/180-1.png"
+ alt="" /></a>
+ </div>
+
+ <p>To a real talker, this subject offers an infinite variety of
+ opportunities. First, you can begin to fight the battle of the
+ powders, as thus:&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>"What powder are you shooting with this year, CHALMERS?"</p>
+
+ <p>"Schultze."</p>
+
+ <p>"How do you find it kill?"</p>
+
+ <p>"Deadly&mdash;absolutely-deadly: best lot I've ever
+ had."</p>
+
+ <p>You need not say anything more now. The discussion will get
+ along beautifully without you, for you will have drawn, (1),
+ the man who very much prefers E.C., which he warrants to kill
+ at a distance no other powder can attain to; (2), the man who
+ uses E.C. or Schultze for his right barrel, and always puts a
+ black-powder cartridge into his left; (3), the detester of
+ innovations, who means to go on using the good old black-powder
+ for both barrels as long as he lives; and (4), the man who is
+ trying an entirely new patent powder, infinitely superior to
+ anything else ever invented, and is willing to give everybody,
+ not only the address of the maker, but half a dozen cartridges
+ to try.</p>
+
+ <p>You cannot make much of "charges" of powder. Good shots are
+ dogmatic on the point, and ordinary shots don't bother their
+ heads about it, trusting entirely to the man who sells them
+ their cartridges. Still you might throw out, here and there, a
+ few words about "drams" and "grains." Only, above all things,
+ be careful <i>not</i> to mention drams in connection with
+ anything but black powder, nor grains, except with reference to
+ Schultze or E.C. A laboriously-acquired reputation as a
+ scientific shot has been known to be ruined by a want of
+ clearness on this important point.</p>
+
+ <p>"Shot." Conversationally much more valuable than powder.
+ "Very few people agree," says a well-known authority; "as to
+ what is the best size of shot to use, and many forget that the
+ charge which will suit one gun, and one description of game,
+ will not do as well for another. Usually, one gun will shoot
+ better one size of shot than will another, and we may safely
+ say, that large bores shoot large shot better than do smaller
+ bores." This last sentence has the beautiful ring of a profound
+ truism. Lay it by for use, and bring it out with emphasis in
+ the midst of such disagreement and forgetfulness as are here
+ alluded to. "If a shooter is a good shot," says the same
+ classic, "he may use No. 6 early in the season, and only for
+ partridges&mdash;afterwards, nothing but No. 5. To the average
+ shot, No. 6 throughout the season." This sounds dreadfully
+ invidious. If a good shot cannot kill grouse with No. 6, how on
+ earth is a merely average shot to do the trick? But, in these
+ matters, the conversationalist finds his opportunity. Only they
+ must not be pushed too far. There was once a party of genial,
+ light-hearted friends, who went out shooting. Early in the day,
+ slight differences of opinion made themselves observed with
+ reference to the size of shot. Lunch found them still more or
+ less good-tempered, but each obstinately determined not to give
+ way even by a fraction on the point under discussion.</p>
+
+ <div class="figleft"
+ style="width:23%;">
+ <a href="images/180-2.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/180-2.png"
+ alt="" /></a>
+ </div>
+
+ <p>Afterwards they began again. The very dogs grew ashamed of
+ the noise, and went home. That afternoon there was peace in the
+ world of birds&mdash;at least, on that particular
+ shooting&mdash;and the next morning saw the shooting-parties of
+ England reduced by one, which had separated in different
+ dog-carts, and various stages of high dudgeon, for the railway
+ station. So, please to be very, very careful. Use the methods
+ of compromise. If you find your friend obstinately pinned to
+ No. 5, when you have declared a preference for No. 6, meet him
+ half-way, or even profess to be converted by his arguments. Or
+ tell him the anecdote about the Irishman, who always shot snipe
+ with No. 4, because, "being such a little bird, bedad, you want
+ a bigger shot to get at the beggar." You can then inform him
+ how you yourself once did dreadful execution among driven
+ grouse in a gale of wind with No. 8 shot, which you had brought
+ out by mistake. You may object that you never, as a matter of
+ fact, did this execution, never having even shot at all with
+ No. 8. Tush! you are puling. If you are going to let a
+ conscientious accuracy stand in your way like this, you had
+ better become dumb when sporting talk is flying about. Of
+ course you must not exaggerate too much. Only bumptious fools
+ do that, and they are called liars for their pains. But a
+ <i>little</i> exaggeration, just a <i>soupçon</i> of romance,
+ does no one any harm, while it relieves the prosaic dullness of
+ the ordinary anecdote. So, swallow your scruples, and</p>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Join the gay throng</p>
+
+ <p>That goes talking along,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">For we'll all go romancing to-day.</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <center>
+ (<i>To be continued.</i>)
+ </center>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>DOE VERSUS ROE(DENT).</h2>
+
+ <blockquote class="note">
+ <p>["The basements of the Royal Courts of Justice have
+ lately been invaded by swarms of mice. They have become
+ very audacious, and have penetrated into the Courts
+ themselves, whose walls are lined with legal volumes, the
+ leaves of which provide them with a rich
+ feast."&mdash;<i>Daily Paper</i>.]</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>For students of the law to "eat</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Their terms" is obviously right,</p>
+
+ <p>But to devour the books themselves</p>
+
+ <p class="i8">Is impolite.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Unfortunately Mr. STREET.</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Who planned the legal edif-&#299;ce,</p>
+
+ <p>Designed a splendid trap for men,</p>
+
+ <p class="i8">But not for mice.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>To view the Courts at midnight now,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">The Courts all in the stilly Strand,</p>
+
+ <p>With rodents squeaking out their pleas,</p>
+
+ <p class="i8">That <i>would</i> be grand!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>No Ushers 'ush them; they consume</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">The stiffest calf you ever saw,</p>
+
+ <p>Developing, these curious beasts,</p>
+
+ <p class="i8">A taste for Law.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>They fill&mdash;perhaps&mdash;the box wherein,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Twelve bothered men have often sat,</p>
+
+ <p>And try, with every proper form,</p>
+
+ <p class="i8">Some absent cat.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>A fore-mouse probably they choose,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">The culprit's advocate deride,</p>
+
+ <p>And fix upon that cat the guilt</p>
+
+ <p class="i8">Of mouseycide.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>At the Refreshment-bars, perchance,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">They eat the cakes, and drink the
+ milk,</p>
+
+ <p>And in the Robing-room indulge</p>
+
+ <p class="i8">In "taking silk."</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>The Judges' sacred Bench itself</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">From scampering feet is not exempt;</p>
+
+ <p>With calmness they commit, of Court,</p>
+
+ <p class="i8">Frightful "contempt."</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Through <i>Byles on Bills</i> they eat their
+ way;</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Law "Digests" they at will digest;</p>
+
+ <p>Not even <i>Coke on Littleton</i></p>
+
+ <p class="i8">Sticks on <i>their</i> chests!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Wanted&mdash;the stodgiest Law-book out!</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">The Judges soon <i>must</i> note these
+ facts,</p>
+
+ <p>And try a copy of the Ju-</p>
+
+ <p class="i8">-dicature Acts!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h3>WHY THE FRENCH WON THE BOAT-RACE.</h3>
+
+ <h4>(<i>Answers supplied by an Unprejudiced Briton.</i>)</h4>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:16%;">
+ <a href="images/180-3.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/180-3.png"
+ alt="" /></a>
+ </div>
+
+ <p>Because the English Eight had had no practice on the
+ Seine.</p>
+
+ <p>Because the Londoners had had a fearful passage crossing the
+ Channel.</p>
+
+ <p>Because they smashed their boat, and had to have it
+ repaired.</p>
+
+ <p>Because the English steering might have been better.</p>
+
+ <p>Because the weather was intolerable, and chiefly affected
+ the Englishmen.</p>
+
+ <p>Because the Londoners had no chance of pulling together.</p>
+
+ <p>Because the French knew the course better than the
+ English.</p>
+
+ <p>Because the race should have been rowed weeks before.</p>
+
+ <p>Because the race should not have been rowed for months.</p>
+
+ <p>Because the British naturally liked to see the foreigners
+ win.</p>
+
+ <p>And last (and least), because the French had by far the
+ better crew!</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>ECCLESIASTICAL INTELLIGENCE.&mdash;The style, title, office,
+ and dignity of Archbishop of Canterbury, with all appurtenances
+ thereto belonging, with all emoluments, spiritualities and
+ temporalities appertaining, have been conferred by letters
+ patent, under supreme authority, according to Act V. Henricus
+ Noster in such cases made and provided, on the Rev. Mr.
+ VINCENT, in consequence of the retirement of the Right Rev.
+ ARTHUR STIRLING from the said office; the duties of which he so
+ recently and so effectively performed between the hours of
+ ten-thirty and eleven-fifteen every night for several months at
+ the Theatre Royal Lyceum. We are in a position to add, that his
+ resignation of this high and valuable office, has not taken
+ place in consequence of any question as to the validity or
+ invalidity of orders ("not admitted after 7·30"), nor has this
+ step been rendered imperative by reason of any "irregularity"
+ in "properties" or "appointments."</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p><font size="+1">&#9758;</font> NOTICE.&mdash;Rejected
+ Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter,
+ Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be
+ returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed
+ Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no
+ exception.</p>
+ <hr class="full" />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol.
+103, October 15, 1892, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
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+</pre>
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+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 103,
+October 15, 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, October 15, 1892
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Francis Burnand
+
+
+Release Date: March 24, 2005 [EBook #15453]
+
+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.
+
+
+
+October 15, 1892.
+
+
+
+
+'ARRY AT 'ARRYGATE.
+
+(_SECOND LETTER._)
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ DEAR CHARLIE,--The post-mark, no doubt, will surprise you. I'm
+ still at the "Crown,"
+ Though I said in my last--wot wos true--I was jest on the mizzle
+ for town.
+ 'Ad a letter from nunky, old man, with another small cheque. Good
+ old nunk!
+ So I'm in for a fortnit' more sulphur and slosh, afore doing a bunk.
+
+ Ah! I've worked it, my pippin, I've worked it; gone in for
+ hexcursions all round,
+ To Knaresborough, Bolton, and Fountains. You know, dear old pal,
+ I'll be bound,
+ As hantiquities isn't my 'obby, and ruins don't fetch me, not much!
+ I can't see their "beauty," no more than the charms of some dowdy
+ old Dutch.
+
+ A Castle, all chunnicks of stone, or a Habbey, much out of repair,
+ A skelinton Banquetting 'All, and a bit of a broken-down stair,
+ May appear most perticular "precious" to them as the picteresk cops;
+ But give me the sububs and stucco, smart villas, and
+ spick-and-span shops.
+
+ "Up to date" is our _siney quay non_ in these days. _Fang der
+ sickle_, yer know.
+ Wich is French for the same, I persoom, and them phrases is now
+ all the go.
+ Find 'em sprinkled all over the papers; in politics, fashion, or
+ art,
+ If you carnt turn 'em slick round yer tongue, you ain't modern, or
+ knowing, or smart.
+
+ Still a houting to Bolton ain't bad when the _charry-bang's_ well
+ loaded up
+ With swell seven-and-sixpence-a-headers. _I_ felt like a tarrier-pup
+ On the scoop arter six weeks of kennel and drench in the 'ands of
+ a vet;
+ I'd got free of the brimstoney flaviour and went it accordin', you
+ bet!
+
+ 'Ad a day at a village called Birstwith. The most tooralooralest
+ scene,
+ 'Oiler down among 'ills, dontcher know, ancient trees and a jolly
+ big green.
+ Reglar old Rip-van-Winkleish spot, sech as CALDECOTT ought to ha'
+ sketched.
+ Though I ain't noways nuts on the pastoral, even Yours Truly wos
+ fetched.
+
+ Pooty sight and no error, old pal! 'Twos a grand "Aughticultural
+ Show,"
+ So the "Progrum of Sports" told the public. Fruit, flowers, and
+ live poultry, yer know.
+ Big markee and a range of old 'en-coops, sports, niggers, a smart
+ local band,
+ Cottage gardemn', cheese, roosters, and races! Rum mix, but I gave
+ it a 'and.
+
+ I do like to hencourage the joskins. One thing though, wos
+ fiddle-de-dee,
+ They 'ad a "Refreshment Tent," CHARLIE. 'Oh my! Ginger-ale and
+ weak tea!
+ Nothink stronger, old pal, s'elp me bob! Fancy _me_ flopping down
+ on a form
+ A-munching plum-putty, and lapping Bohea as wos not even warm!
+
+ This 'ere 'Arrygate's short of amusements. There's niggers and
+ bands on the "Stray"
+ (Big lumpy old field in a 'ole, wich if properly managed might pay.)
+ Mysterious Minstrels with masks on, a bleating contralto in black,
+ With a orful tremoler, my pippin!--yus, these are the pick of the
+ pack.
+
+ Bit sick of "_Ta-ra-ra_" and "_Knocked 'em_;" "_Carissimar_" gives
+ me the 'ump,
+ For I 'ear it some six times per morning; and then there's a footy
+ old pump
+ Blows staggery toons on a post-'orn for full arf a-hour each day,
+ To muster the mugs for a coach-drive. My heye and a bandbox, it's
+ gay!
+
+ At the "Crown" we git up little barnies, to eke out the 'Arrygate
+ lot,
+ For even the Spa's a bit samesome for six times a week when it's
+ 'ot;
+ Though they do go it pooty permiskus with pickter-shows, concerts,
+ and such;
+ Yus, I must say they ladles it out fair and free, for a sixpenny
+ touch.
+
+ But even yer Fancy Dress Balls, and yer lectures by ANNIE BESANT,
+ All about Hastral Bodies and Hether, seems not always _quite_ wot
+ yer want
+ To wile away time arter dinner. So thanks to that
+ gent--six-foot-four!--
+ Who fair cuts the record as Droring-Room M.C.--of course
+ _hammytoor_.
+
+ Then we've conjurors, worblers, phrenologists! One 'ad a go at
+ _my_ chump.
+ 'E touzled my 'air up tremenjus, and said I'd no hend of a bump
+ Of somethink he called "Happrybativeness." Feller meant well, I
+ suppose,
+ But I didn't quite relish his smile, nor his rummy remarks on my
+ nose.
+
+ When a tall gurl as pooty as paint, and with cheeks like a
+ blush--rose in bloom,
+ 'As 'er lamps all a-larf on yer face, and a giggle goes round the
+ whole room,
+ 'Tisn't nice to sit square on a chair, with a feller a-sharpening
+ 'is wit
+ On your nob, and a rumpling your 'air till it's like a birch-broom
+ in a fit!
+
+ One caper we 'ad, on the lawn, wos a spree and no error, old man.
+ They call it a "Soap-Bubble Tournyment." Soapsuds, a pipe, and a
+ fan,
+ Four six--foot posts stuck in the ground with a tape run
+ around--them's the "props,"
+ And lawn-tennis ain't in it for larks. Oh, the ladies did larf,
+ though tip-tops!
+
+ Bit sniffy fust off. "Oh!" sez they, "wot a most _hintellectual_
+ game!"
+ But I noticed that them as sneered most wos most anxious to win,
+ all the same,
+ The gent he stands slap in the middle, and tries to blow bubbles
+ like fun,
+ Wich his pardner fans over the tape; don't it jest keep the girls
+ on the run!
+
+ Every bubble as crosses the tape afore busting counts one to that
+ pair,
+ And the pair as counts most wins the prize. They are timed by a
+ hegg-boiler. There!
+ It _wos_ all a pantermime, CHARLIE, to see 'ow them gurls scooted
+ round,
+ Jest like Japanese jugglers, a-fanning the bubbles, as _would_ 'ug
+ the ground.
+
+ Some gents wos fair frosts at the bizness; one good-'earted trim
+ little toff
+ Would blow with the bowl wrong end uppards. His pardner went pink
+ and flounced off.
+ He gurgled away like a babe with a pap-bottle, guggle--gug--gug!
+ And I 'eard 'er a-giving 'im beans as 'e mizzled, much down in the
+ mug.
+
+ Owsomever, it ain't for amusements as 'Arrygate lays itself hout;
+ So, dear boy, it's for doses and douches; and there it scores
+ freely, no doubt,
+ Wy, there's thirty-two Springs in the Bog Field--a place like a
+ graveyard gone wrong--
+ Besides Starbeck, the Tewit, and others, all narsty, and most on
+ 'em strong.
+
+ Since Sir SLINGSBY discovered the first one, now close on three
+ cent'ries ago,
+ Wot a lush of mixed mineral muck these 'ere 'Arrygate Springs 'ave
+ let flow!
+ Well, ere's bully for Brimstone, my bloater, and 'ooray for
+ 'Arrygate air!
+ Wich 'as done me most good I don't know, and I'm scorched if I
+ very much care!
+
+ I know 'Arrygate girls cop the biscuit for beauty. They've cheeks
+ like the rose,
+ Their skin is jest strorberries and cream; it's the sulphur, dear
+ boy, I suppose.
+ As for me, I look yaller as taller alongside 'em CHARLIE, wus luck!
+ I 'eard one call me saffron-faced sparrer, and jest as I thought
+ 'er fair struck.
+
+ I'd nail 'em, in time, I've no doubt, when I once got the 'ang of
+ their style.
+ There's a gal at the Montpellier Baths. Scissoree! 'ow I've tried
+ for a smile,
+ When she tips me my tannersworth! Shucks! she's as orty and stiff
+ as yer please.
+ Primrose Dames isn't in it for snubs with these arrygant
+ 'Arrygatese!
+
+ But I reckon my "Douche" is now due. Doctor BLACK's that
+ pertikler, old man.
+ These 'Arrygate doctors 'ave progrums--you've got to pan out to
+ their plan.
+ Up early, two swigs afore breakfust, and tubs when they tell yer's
+ the rule.
+ Well, the feller as flies to a Sawbones, and _don't_ toe the line
+ is a fool.
+
+ Reglar Doctor-Shop, 'Arrygate is; see their photos all over the
+ town.
+ Mine is doing me dollups of good; I'm quite peckish, and jest a
+ bit brown.
+ I'm making the most of my time, and a-laying in all I can carry.
+ So 'ere ends this budget of brimstone and baths from your
+ sulphur-soaked
+
+'ARRY.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: A FROG HE WOULD A-ROWING GO!
+
+A SAD SONG OF THE INTERNATIONAL BOAT RACE.
+
+(_WITH MR. PUNCH'S CORDIAL COMPLIMENTS TO THE VICTORIOUS FRENCH
+EIGHT_.)
+
+AIR--"_A Frog he would a-Wooing go_."
+
+ A FROGGIE would a-rowing go,
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ To see if Big BULLIE could lick him or no;
+ With his boating form that's all gammon and spinach.
+ Heigho for British Rowing!
+
+ So off he set with his boating-cap,
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ And swore at Big BULL he would just have a slap!
+ Which BULL declared was all gammon and spinach!
+ Heigho for British Rowing!
+
+ "Pray, Mr. BULL, will you race with me?"
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ Says BULL, "If you like, but 'tis fiddle-de-dee!
+ For FROG against BULL is all gammon and spinach."
+ Heigho for British Rowing!
+
+ When they came to Andresy upon the Seine,
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ Big BULL pulled his hardest, but pulled in vain,
+ For he found his boasts were all gammon and spinach.
+ Heigho for British Rowing!
+
+ For in spite of the brag, and the bounce, and the chaff,
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ The FROG beat the BULL by a length and a half,
+ With your MOSSOP and JAMES, licked by BOUDIN and CUZIN,
+ Heigho, says R.C. LEHMANN!
+
+ "Pray, Mr. BULL, do you relish the spin?"
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ (Said FROGGIE.) "And were you cocksure you would win,
+ With your forty-one strokes all sheer gammon and spinach?"
+ Heigho for British Rowing!
+
+ "Humph! Regular take-down!" said Big Mr. BULL--
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ "But, FROGGIE or not, by the lord you can _pull_,
+ With your much-decried 'hang,'--'twas all gammon and spinach!
+ Heigho for British Rowing!"
+
+ "Ha! Ha!" cried the FROG, "the old fable, thought true"--
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ "Is out of date now. I'm as big, BULL, as _you_,
+ As an oarsman, which is _not_ all gammon and spinach!"
+ Heigho for British Rowing.
+
+ So that in the end (for the present), you see,
+ Heigho for Rowing!
+ Of the race between Big BULL and Little FROGGIE.
+ BULL's fame, in a boat, seems all gammon and spinach.
+ Heigho for British Rowing!
+]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: LOOKING AHEAD.
+
+_Miss Golightly_ (_the Friend of the Family, and to whom Sir Percy
+(the elder) has proposed_). "OF COURSE I'M AWFULLY OBLIGED, SIR
+PERCY--BUT, SAY NOW, DON'T YOU THINK THERE WOULD BE SOME DANGER OF
+MY FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOUR ELDEST SON?"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+MR. CHAUNCEY DEPEW, the well-known American lawyer, wonders why on
+earth the British Government has not long ago given Home Rule to
+Ireland. He encourages Mr. G.'s Ministry to do their best in this
+direction, and chaunce-y it. We're always delighted to welcome Mr.
+CHAUNCEY DEPEW in England, so let him come over with a Depewtation
+to Mr. G. on the subject.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+EQUESTRIAN FRUIT.--At the Horticultural Show the Baroness
+BURDETT-COUTTS exhibited a "Cob of ADAM's Early Maize." No particulars
+are given. Was it 14'1 and a weight-carrier? Being ADAM's, it must be
+about the oldest in the world. "Maize" may be a misprint for "Mews."
+Next time the Baroness must send a pear.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+PROBABLE DEDUCTION.--A pertinacious Salvation Army Captain was
+worrying a Scotch farmer, whom he had met in the train, with perpetual
+inquiries as to whether "he had been born again of Water and the
+Spirit?" At last, MCSANDY replied, "Aweel, I dinna reetly ken how
+that may be, but my good old feyther and mither took their toddy
+releegiously every nicht, the noo."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE AUSTRO-GERMAN OFFICER'S VADE-MECUM.
+
+_Q._ You have heard of the Ride from Berlin to Vienna, and _vice
+versa_?
+
+_A._ Yes; and of the mishaps that befell many of the competitors.
+
+_Q._ You mean their horses?
+
+_A._ What applies to the one applies to the other.
+
+_Q._ Some of the poor steeds died on the journey?
+
+_A._ I daresay--of course, it was hard work.
+
+_Q._ And you have read that, even when the poor horses were fainting
+and refusing food, the riders still went on?
+
+_A._ Of course. The riders had magnificent pluck and nerve.
+
+_Q._ What, to observe the anguish of their chargers without emotion?
+
+_A._ No! The idea! I mean they had pluck and nerve in spite of all
+discouragement to push on to the winning-post.
+
+_Q._ And what do you think this breaking down of the horses proved?
+
+_A._ That, after all, the creatures were brutes--only brutes!
+
+_Q._ Does not the suffering of these brutes suggest--
+
+_A._ That the riders were brutes too?--Ah!
+
+ [_No further question put, the Answerer having mastered the
+ subject._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+IN EXCELSIS.--No better example of the methods employed by
+Vivisectionists could be given than was presented at the Church
+Congress last week, where in debate on this subject they were all
+engaged in cutting up one another. The Bishop of EDINBURGH, denouncing
+the morality of the Bishop of MANCHESTER and of Bishop BARRY, was a
+rare sight. His Lordship said that the morality of these two Bishops
+was "up in a balloon." Well, surely this is morality of the most
+elevated description. These Bishops are not "_in partibus_," but _in
+nubibus_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+IN WATER COLOURS.--The East London Waterworks Company had a very
+successful meeting the other day. _Inter alia_ the Chairman said,
+that "the Waltham Well is a complete success." _Ergo_ let Well alone.
+That from this source they still supplied "36 gallons per head." The
+heads must be uncommonly hard to stand all this water on the brain. A
+dividend of eight per cent. is, after all, a very pleasant draught.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"GREEN THE GUIDE."
+
+(_A SKETCH ON A "ROYAL BLUE" CAR AT JERSEY._)
+
+ _On the Car is, among others, an Elderly Gentleman, in a
+ tall hat, with a quantity of wraps; a Stout Shopkeeper, with
+ a stouter Wife; a Serious Commercial Traveller, and a couple
+ of young "Shop-ladies"; a Morose Young Man, who has "got
+ out of bed the wrong side" that morning, and another, who
+ has begun his potations rather early, and is in the muzzily
+ talkative mood. The Car is one of a long string of similar
+ vehicles, and is proceeding at a rapid rate along one of the
+ winding roads._
+
+_The Muzzy Man_. Frivolous, am I? Well, we _came_ 'ere to be
+frivolous--to a certain extent. Am I out of the way in anything I've
+said? Because I woke this morning with a dry month, and I don't mind
+saying I've had a little drop o' brandy since.
+
+_His Neighbour_. You might let people find out that for themselves,
+_I_ should think!
+
+_The Muzzy M._ No--I like to be honest and straightforward, I do. I
+don't want to be out of the _way_, you understand.
+
+_The Shopkeeper's Wife_ (_to her Neighbour_). This is a pretty part
+of the road we're on now--but, lor! there's nothing 'ere to come up to
+the Isle of Man. Douglas, now--that _is_ a nice place, with all them
+Music Halls! And the scenery--why, I'm sure I felt sometimes as if I
+_must_ stop, just to _look_ at it!
+
+_The Muzzy Man_. I consider scenery we're coming to most beautiful
+I've seen for--for miles around. [_He goes to sleep._
+
+[Illustration: "An elderly Gentleman, in a tall hat, with a quantity
+of wraps."]
+
+_The Shopkeeper_ (_to the Elderly G., who is shifting and turning
+about uneasily_). Lost anything, Sir?
+
+_The E.G._ No--thank you, no. I was looking to see whether GREEN the
+Guide was on the car. (_Shouts of laughter are heard from the car
+behind._) Ah, _that's_ GREEN the Guide! I wish he'd come on our
+oar--very amusing fellow, Sir--capital company!
+
+_The Morose M._ (_to the Young Lady 'on his Left_) Who's GREEN the
+Guide?
+
+_The Y.L._ Oh, don't you know? He comes with the cars and makes jokes
+and all that. I hope he'll come to us.
+
+_The Mor. M._ _I_ don't. I can do that sort of thing for myself if I
+want to, I hope. [_With a scowl._
+
+_The Y.L._ Well, there's no harm in _hoping_!
+
+_The Serious Comm. T._ (_to his neighbour--one of the Shop-ladies_).
+So you come from Birmingham? Dear me, now. I used to be there very
+often on business at one time. Do you know the Rev. Mr. PODGER there?
+A good old gentleman, he is. I used to attend his Chapel regular--most
+improving discourses he used to give us. I am fond of a good Sermon,
+aren't you? &c.
+
+ [_He imagines--not altogether correctly--that he is producing
+ an agreeable impression._
+
+_A Young Man in a Frock-coat, Canvas-shoes, and Cloth-cap._
+Scarborough? Yes, I've _been_ there--but I don't care about it much.
+You have to _dress_ such a lot there, y' know, and I like to come out
+just as I am!
+
+ [_The conversation, notwithstanding its brilliancy, is
+ beginning to flag--when the car is boarded by a stalwart
+ good-looking man, carrying a banjo, and wearing a leather
+ shoulder-belt with "GREEN the Guide" in brass letters upon
+ it; the Elderly Gentleman, and most of the Ladies welcome
+ him with effusion, while the Younger Men appear to resent
+ his appearance._
+
+_The Mor. M._ (_sotto voce_). If he's going to play that old
+instrument of torture, I shall _howl_, that's all!
+
+_Green the Guide_ (_in a deep baritone voice_). Well, Ladies
+and Gentlemen, I congratulate you upon having a fine day for our
+excursion. My glass went up three feet this morning.
+
+_The Morose Man_ (_aggressively_). Was there whiskey inside it?
+
+_Green the Guide_. No, Sir, it would have gone down suddenly if there
+had been. (_The_ Elderly G. _asks for a song_.) I shall be delighted
+to entertain you to the best of my ability. What would you like to
+have?
+
+_The Mor. M._ None of your songs--give us an imitation--of a deaf and
+dumb man.
+
+_Green the G._ (_with perfect good-humour_). I shall be happy to do
+the deaf man, Sir,--if you'll help me by doing the dumb. (_The_ Mor.
+M. _begins to feel that he had better leave_ GREEN the Guide _alone._)
+Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, I'll sing you a good old-fashioned
+hunting-song, and I'll ask you to join me in the Chorus.
+
+ [_He sings "We'll all go out hunting to-day!"_
+
+_The Mor. M._ (_after the First Verse_). The beggar don't sing so
+badly. I will say _that_ for him! (_After the Third._) Capital voice
+he has! Rattling good Chorus, too! "Join the glad throng that goes
+laughing along, and we'll all go a-hunting to-day!" (_At the end._)
+Bravo! encore! encore!
+
+ [_His good-humour is suddenly and miraculously restored._
+
+_Green the G._ (_in a tone of instruction_). You will notice that the
+thistle is very abundant just here, Ladies and Gentlemen. The reason
+of _that_, is that some years ago a vessel was wrecked on this part of
+the coast which was sailing from Scotland with a cargo of thistledown.
+(_Outcry of incredulity_.) If you don't believe me, ask the Coachman.
+
+_The Coachman_ (_stolidly_). It's a fact, Gentlemen, I assure you.
+
+_G. the G._ The soil of Jersey is remarkably productive; if you plant
+a sixpence, it will come up a shilling in no time. The cabbages on
+this island grow to an extraordinary height, frequently attaining
+twenty feet--(_outcry_)--yes, if you measure up one side, and down the
+other. (_They pass a couple of sheep on a slope._) The finest flock
+of sheep in the island. The dark one is not black, only a little
+sunburnt. The house you see on that hill over there was formerly slept
+in by CHARLES THE SECOND. He left a pair of slippers behind him--which
+have since grown into top-boots. There you see the only windmill in
+this part of the island--there _used_ to be three, but it was found
+there was not enough wind for them all. From here you have a clear
+view of the coast of France; and, when the wind is blowing in this
+direction, you have an excellent opportunity of acquiring the French
+accent in all its purity. (_This string of somewhat hoary chestnuts
+meets with a success beyond their intrinsic merits, the_ Morose Man
+_being as much entertained as anybody._) On your right is an inland
+lake of fresh water--
+
+_The Muzzy Man_ (_waking up with sudden interest_). Can you drink it
+with perfect impunity?
+
+_G. the G._ Depends how far you are accustomed to it as a beverage,
+Sir. (_The car stops at an hotel._) We stop here two hours, Ladies and
+Gentlemen, to enable you to lunch, and examine the caves afterwards.
+You can leave anything you like on the cars except five-pound
+notes--and they _might_ get blown away!
+
+ON THE WAY HOME.
+
+_The Shopkeeper's Wife_ (_to her Husband_). Ah, TOM, it's just as
+well you stayed behind--you'd never have got through those caves! You
+wouldn't believe I could ha' done it unless you'd seen me--clambering
+down iron ladders, and jumping on to rocks, and squeezing through
+tunnels, and then up a cliff like the side of a house. I do _wish_ you
+could ha' seen me, TOM!
+
+_Tom_ (_philosophically_). Ah, well, I was very comfortable where I
+was, settin' in the hotel room there, smoking my pipe. GREEN the Guide
+gave us, "_Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep_," in first-rate style--he
+is a _singer_, and no mistake!
+
+_His Wife_. Lor, I wish I'd known he was going to sing--I'd ha' stayed
+too! But here he is, waiting by the road for us--I do hope he's going
+to sing again!
+
+_Green the G._ (_mounting the car_). I fear I am an unwelcome visitor.
+
+_The Eld. G._ (_graciously_). It would be the first time in your life
+then, GREEN!
+
+_G. the G._ Well, the fact is, I come to levy a little contribution on
+behalf of myself and the Coachman. Times are hard, Gentlemen, and both
+of us have large families to support. If you don't believe me, ask
+the Coachman. (_The Elderly G. explains that his wrappings prevent
+him from getting at his purse just then, while the others contribute
+with more or less readiness and liberality_.) Many thanks. Ladies and
+Gentlemen, on behalf of myself and the Coachman, and to express my
+sense of your generosity, I will sing you the great Jersey National
+Song, composed by myself, before leaving. (_He sings a ditty with the
+following spirited Chorus_):--
+
+ There the streets are paved with granite. So neat and clean
+ And lots of pretty, witty girls, are always to be seen!
+ With the brave old Mi-litia, Our foes to defy!
+ And there they grow the Cabba-ges--Ten feet high!
+ (_All together, Gentlemen, please_!) Yes, there they grow the
+ Cabbages, there they grow the Cabbages, there they grow
+ the Cabbages--Ten feet high!
+
+Thank you, Gentlemen, I've sung that song a number of times, and I
+never remember hearing the chorus better sung. If you don't believe
+me, ask the Coachman.
+
+_Coachman._ _I've_ never 'eard it better sung, Ladies and Gentlemen,
+I assure you.
+
+ [_GREEN the Guide descends in a blaze of popularity, and the
+ "Royal Blue" rolls on in excellent spirits._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+POLITICAL TRAINING.
+
+_Monday_.--Read Mr. CHAMBERLAIN's remarks on abstinence from bodily
+exercise. Sold my bicycle, and gave away all my rackets, bats, &c.
+Resolved to follow the latest system. Shall doubtless, by these means,
+reach Mr. C.'s high position as a statesman and orator. Went out
+in a Bath-chair. Five minutes after starting, man said he was not
+accustomed to drag so heavy an invalid, and must rest a little. Tried
+a speech--my maiden one--on the Disadvantages of Bodily Exercise. He
+listened respectfully, and, when at last I had finished, said he quite
+agreed with me, and that the fare was seven shillings.
+
+_Tuesday_.--Have decided that exercise in a Bath-chair is quite
+superfluous. Resolved to take exercise, for the future, in a hammock,
+just outside the garden-door. Must practise speech-making to the
+gardener. Good idea--Orchids. Asked him what he thought about the new
+Orchid. Miserable fool answered, "Awkud, zur? Dunno waht thaht be."
+I said that was "awkud," and had to laugh at the highly original
+side-splitter myself, as he never saw it.
+
+_Wednesday_.--Must really give up this long walk to the garden-door.
+Shall never become a great statesman unless I do. Resolved to take
+exercise in arm-chair in library. The children's governess came in
+to fetch a book. Addressed her at some length on Free Education.
+Afterwards, thought this subject was somewhat ill-chosen, as her
+salary is so small.
+
+_Thursday_.--Really cannot stand this walking up and down stairs.
+Shall remain for the future in my bed-room and take exercise on sofa
+by fireside, as I feel chilly. Page came in with coals. Reminded me of
+Policy of Scuttle. Spoke of this at some length, and woke him up with
+difficulty when I had finished. Felt rather unwell.
+
+_Friday_.--Dressing and undressing is certainly needless fatigue,
+and evidently causes this headache and general seediness. Shall take
+exercise in bed. Felt worse. Female relatives anxious, and insist on
+medical attendance. Assured them I was following the best system, and
+answered their persistent demands by a short address on Home Rule.
+
+_Saturday_.--Felt so bad at five this morning, that Doctor was
+fetched. Tried feebly to address him on the Eight Hours' Question,
+when he said he never had any time to think how long he worked.
+Explained my new system to him. He said I should myself want a new
+system to stand such a course of treatment. Then he pulled me out of
+bed, and insisted on my walking ten miles as soon as I was dressed.
+Felt much better. Shall abandon politics and become a farmer, having
+just heard of an infallible system for growing wheat profitably.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE "RESTORATION" PERIOD.--Will the Chairmen of the L.C. & D. and the
+S.E. Lines unite their forces? After the meeting on this subject last
+week, Sir EDWARD will have lots of reason to listen to. But apart from
+every consideration of _mal de mer_, and "From Calais to Dover," as
+the poet sings "'Tis soonest over," there is not anywhere a better,
+and we, who have suffered as greatly as the much-enduring Ulysses,
+venture to assert not anywhere as good a luncheon as at the
+"Restauration" (well it deserves the title!) of the Calais Station.
+Every patriotic travelling Englishman must be delighted to think that
+some few centuries ago we gave up Calais. Had it been nowadays in
+English hands, why it might even now be possessed of a "Refreshment
+Room" no better than--any on our side of the Channel, for there is no
+necessity to particularise. From Dover to Calais is the shortest and
+best restorative'd route for the traveller, whether ill or well, at
+sea.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+MOTTOES for the new Lord MAYOR. "_Nil obstet_," "_Nil fortius_," and,
+from HORACE, "_Nil amplius oro_." This, in answer to thousands of
+correspondents, is our last word on the subject; so after this (except
+on the 9th of November), we say--_nil_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SUCH A "LIGHT OPERA!"
+
+[Illustration: "Pity a Poo' Bar-itone!"]
+
+Had Sir ARTHUR written the music for _The Mountebanks_, and Sir BRIAN
+DE BOIS GILBERT the book of _Haddon Hall_, both might have been big
+successes So, however, it was not to be, and Sir ARTHUR chose this
+book by Mr. GRUNDY, which labours under the disadvantages of being
+original, and of not owing almost everything to a French source. It
+isn't every day of the week that Mr. GRUNDY tumbles upon _A Pair of
+Spectacles_ in a volume of French plays. The period to which the very
+slight and uninteresting story of _Haddon Hall_ belongs is just before
+the Restoration, but the dialogue of "the book" is spiced with modern
+slang, both "up to date" (the date being this present year of Grace,
+not sixteen hundred and sixty) and out of date. The "out-of-date"
+slang, which is, "_I've got 'em on"_--alluding to the Scotchman's
+trousers--has by far the best of it, as it comes at the end of the
+piece, and enjoys the honour of having been set to music by the
+variously-gifted Composer: so that "_I've got 'em on_," with its
+enthusiastically treble-encored whiskey fling, capitally danced by
+Miss NITA COLE as _Nance_, with Mr. DENNY as _The McCrankie_, may be
+considered as the real hit of the evening, having in itself about
+as much to do with whatever there is of the plot as would have the
+entrance of Mr. JOEY GRIMALDI, in full Clown's costume, with "Here
+we are again!" Of the music, as there was very little to catch and
+take away, one had to leave it. Of course this seriously comic or
+comically serious Opera is drawing--["_Music_," observes Mr. WAGG,
+parenthetically, "cannot be _drawing_"]--and will continue to do
+so for some little time, long enough at all events to reimburse
+Mr. D'OYLY CARTE for his more than usually lavish outlay on the
+_mise-en-scene._
+
+ [Illustration:"Christmas is comin'!"
+ The McClown of McClown dancing.
+ The Reel Hit of the Opera.
+
+In the Second Act, the mechanical change from the exterior of Haddon
+Hall to the interior, must be reckoned as among the most effective
+transformations ever seen on any stage. It would be still more so if
+the time occupied in making it were reduced one-half, and the storm
+in the orchestra, and the lightning seen through black gauze on stage
+were omitted. The lightning frightens nobody, only amuses a few,
+and in itself is no very great attraction. Even if these flashes
+were a very striking performance; no danger to the audience need
+be apprehended from it, seeing that Mr. CELLIER is in front as
+"Conductor." Perhaps Mr. D'OYLY CARTE, noticing that Mr. GRUNDY calls
+his piece "a light Opera," thought that, as it wasn't quite up to this
+description, it would be as well if the required "light'ning" were
+brought in somewhere, and so he introduced it here. If this be so, it
+is about the only flash of genius in the performance.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: POST-PRANDIAL PESSIMISTS.
+
+SCENE--_The Smoking-room at the Decadents._
+
+_First Decadent_ (_M.A. Oxon._). "AFTER ALL, SMYTHE, WHAT WOULD LIFE
+BE WITHOUT COFFEE?"
+
+_Second Decadent_ (_B.A. Camb._). "TRUE, JEOHNES, TRUE! AND YET, AFTER
+ALL, WHAT IS LIFE _WITH_ COFFEE?"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"CROSSING THE BAR."
+
+IN MEMORIAM.
+
+ALFRED LORD TENNYSON.
+
+BORN, AUGUST 5, 1809. DIED, OCTOBER 6, 1892.
+
+"TALIESSEN is our fullest throat of song."--_The Holy Grail_.
+
+ Our fullest throat of song is silent, hushed
+ In Autumn, when the songless woods are still,
+ And with October's boding hectic flushed
+ Slowly the year disrobes. A passionate thrill
+ Of strange proud sorrow pulses through the land,
+ His land, his England, which he loved so well:
+ And brows bend low, as slow from strand to strand
+ The Poet's passing bell
+ Sends forth its solemn note, and every heart
+ Chills, and sad tears to many an eyelid start.
+
+ Sad tears in sooth! And yet not wholly so.
+ Exquisite echoes of his own swan-song
+ Forbid mere murmuring mournfulness; the glow
+ Of its great hope illumes us. Sleep, thou strong
+ Full tide, as over the unmeaning bar
+ Fares this unfaltering darer of the deep,
+ Beaconed by a Great Light, the pilot-star
+ Of valiant souls, who keep
+ Through the long strife of thought-life free from scathe
+ The luminous guidance of the larger faith.
+
+ No sadness of farewell? Great Singer, crowned
+ With lustrous laurel, facing that far light,
+ In whose white radiance dark seems whelmed and drowned,
+ And death a passing shade, of meaning slight;
+ Sunset, and evening star, and that clear call,
+ The twilight shadow, and the evening bell,
+ Bring naught of gloom for thee. Whate'er befall
+ Thou must indeed fare well.
+ But we--we have but memories now, and love
+ The plaint of fond regret will scarce reprove.
+
+ Great singer, he, and great among the great,
+ Or greatness hath no sure abiding test.
+ The poet's splendid pomp, the shining state
+ Of royal singing robes, were his, confest,
+ By slowly growing certitude of fame,
+ Since first, a youth, he found fresh-opening portals
+ To Beauty's Pleasure-House. Ranked with acclaim
+ Amidst the true Immortals,
+ The amaranth fields with native ease he trod,
+ Authentic son of the lyre-bearing god.
+
+ Fresh portals, untrod pleasaunces, new ways
+ In Art's great Palace, shrined in Nature's heart,
+ Sought the young singer, and his limpid lays,
+ O'er sweet, perchance, yet made the quick blood start
+ To many a cheek mere glittering; rhymes left cold.
+ But through the gates of Ivory or of Horn
+ His vivid vision flocked, and who so bold
+ As to repulse with scorn
+ The shining troop because of shadowy birth.
+ Of bodiless passion, or light tinkling mirth?
+
+ But the true god-gift grows. Sweet, sweet, still sweet
+ As great Apollo's lyre, or Pan's plain reed,
+ His music flowed, but slowly he out-beat
+ His song to finer issues. Fingers fleet,
+ That trifled with the pipe-stops, shook grand sound
+ From the great organ's golden mouths anon.
+ A mellow-measured might, a beauty bound
+ (As Venus with her zone)
+ By that which shaped from chaos Earth, Air, Sky,
+ The unhampering restraint of Harmony.
+
+ Hysteric ecstasy, new fierce, now faint,
+ But ever fever-sick, shook not his lyre
+ With epileptic fervours. Sensual taint
+ Of satyr heat, or bacchanal desire,
+ Polluted not the passion of his song;
+ No corybantic clangor clamoured through
+ Its manly harmonies, as sane as strong;
+ So that the captious few
+ Found sickliness in pure Elysian balm,
+ And coldness in such high Olympian calm.
+
+[Illustration: "CROSSING THE BAR."
+ "TWILIGHT AND EVENING BELL, AND AFTER THAT THE DARK"
+ "AND MAY THERE BE NO SADNESS OF FAREWELL, WHEN I EMBARK."--TENNYSON.]
+
+ Impassioned purity, high minister
+ Of spirit's joys, was his, reserved, restrained.
+ His song was like the sword Excalibur
+ Of his symbolic knight; trenchant, unstained.
+ It shook the world of wordly baseness, smote
+ The Christless heathendom of huckstering days.
+ There is no harshness in that mellow note,
+ No blot upon those bays;
+ For loyal love and knightly valour rang
+ Through rich immortal music when he sang.
+
+ ARTHUR, his friend, the Modern Gentleman,
+ ARTHUR, the hero, his ideal Knight,
+ Inspired his strains. From fount to flood they ran
+ A flawless course of melody and light.
+ A Christian chivalry shone in his song
+ From Locksley Hall to shadowy Lyonnesse,
+ Whence there stand forth two figures, stately, strong,
+ Symbols of spirit's stress;
+ The blameless King, saintship with scarce a blot,
+ And song's most noble sinner, LANCELOT.
+
+ Lover of England, lord of English hearts,
+ Master of English speech, painter supreme
+ Of English landscape! Patriot passion starts
+ A-flame, pricked by the words that glow and gleam
+ In those imperial paeans, which might arm
+ Pale cowards for the fray. Touched by his hand
+ The simple sweetness, and the homely charm
+ Of our green garden-land
+ Take on a witchery as of Arden's glade,
+ Or verdant Vallombrosa's leafy shade.
+
+ The fragrant fruitfulness of wood and wold,
+ Of flowery upland, and of orchard-lawn,
+ Lit by the lingering evening's softened gold,
+ Or flushed with rose-hued radiance of the dawn;
+ Bird-music beautiful; the robin's trill,
+ Or the rook's drowsy clangour; flats that run
+ From sky to sky, dusk woods that drape the hill,
+ Still lakes that draw the sun;
+ All, all are mirror'd in his verse, and there
+ Familiar beauties shine most strangely fair.
+
+ Poet, the pass-key magical was thine,
+ To Beauty's Fairy World, in classic calm
+ Or rich romantic colour. Bagdat's shrine
+ By sheeny Tigris, Syrian pool and palm,
+ Avilion's bowery hollows, Ida's peak,
+ The lily-laden Lotos land, the fields
+ Of amaranth! What may vagrant Fancy seek
+ More than thy rich song yields,
+ Of Orient odour, Faery wizardry,
+ Or soft Arcadian simplicity?
+
+ From all, far Faery Land, Romance's realm,
+ Green English homestead, cloud-crown'd Attic hill,
+ The Poet passes--whither? Not the helm
+ Of wounded ARTHUR, lit by light that fills
+ Avilion's fair horizons, gleamed more bright
+ Than does that leonine laurelled visage now,
+ Fronting with steadfast look that mystic Light.
+ Grave eye, and gracious brow
+ Turn from the evening bell, the earthly shore,
+ To face the Light that floods him evermore.
+
+ Farewell! How fitlier should a poet pass
+ Than thou from that dim chamber and the gleam
+ Of poor earth's purest radiance? Love, alas!
+ Of that strange scene must long in sorrow dream.
+ But we--we hear thy manful music still!
+ A royal requiem for a kingly soul!
+ No sadness of farewell! Away regret,
+ When greatness nears its goal!
+ We follow thee, in thought, through light, afar
+ Divinely piloted beyond the bar!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+TO MY SWEETHEART.
+
+ ["Those roses you bought and gave to me are marvels. They are
+ still alive."--_Her Letter_.]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ A Hothouse where some roses blew,
+ And, whilst the outer world was white,
+ The gentle roses softly grew
+ To fragrant visions of delight.
+
+ Some wretched florist owned them all,
+ And plucked them from their native bowers,
+ Then gaily showed them on his stall
+ To swell the ranks of "Fresh-Cut Flowers."
+
+ _Some_ went beside a bed of pain
+ Where influenza claimed its due;
+ They drooped and never smiled again,
+ The epidemic had them too.
+
+ A gay young gallant bought some buds,
+ And jauntily went out to dine
+ With other reckless sporting bloods,
+ Who talked of women, drank of wine;
+
+ But whilst they talked, and smoked, and drank,
+ And told tales not too sanctified.
+ Abashed the timid blossoms shrank,
+ Changed colour, faded, and then died.
+
+ Yet roses, too, I gave to you,
+ I saw you place them near your heart,
+ You wore them all the evening through,
+ You wore them when we came to part.
+
+ But now you write to me, my dear,
+ And marvel that they are not dead,
+ Their beauty does not disappear,
+ Their fragrant perfume has not fled.
+
+ The reason's plain. Somehow aright
+ The flowers know if we ignore them.
+ The roses live for sheer delight
+ At knowing, Sweetheart, that _you_ wore them.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THOUGHTS--NOT WORTH A PENNY.
+
+(_FRAGMENT FROM THE BURLESQUE-ROMANCE OF "NO CENTS; OR, THE NEW
+CRITICISM."_)
+
+The Critic of the new cult visited a tailor's establishment, and was
+delighted with all he saw. There were coats, and vests, and other
+garments.
+
+"I make some fifty per cent. profit," said the proprietor of the
+establishment, stroking his moustache with a hand adorned with many a
+diamond ring. "Of course it causes some labour, thought, and time--but
+I get my money for my trouble."
+
+"And why not?" replied the Critic. "Are you not worth it? Do you not
+devote your energy to it? Must you not live?"
+
+And, having said this, the Reviewer visited another place of business.
+This time he had entered the office of a Stockbroker.
+
+"Of course it is rather anxious work sometimes," said the alternative
+representative of a bull and a bear. "But it pays in the long run.
+I manage to keep up a house in South Kensington, and a carriage and
+pair, out of my takings."
+
+"Again, why not?" responded the Critic. "You have a wife and family.
+Must you not live?" Then the Critic visited Cheesemongers, and
+Bankers, Solicitors, and Upholsterers. At last, he reached the modest
+abode of an Author.
+
+"Ah!" said he, in a tone of contempt; "you write books and plays! Why?
+
+"Why, to sell them," answered the Poet, in a faltering voice.
+
+"Sell them!" echoed the Critic, in tones of thunder. "What do you mean
+by that?"
+
+"Why, one must live!"
+
+"Nonsense! The universe can get on very well without anyone. You might
+be dispensed with; and, if it comes to that, so might I. Yes, I am not
+wanted."
+
+"Quite true!" murmured the Author; "indeed, you are not!"
+
+"And, after all, what _is_ your work? Mere brain action! Anyone who
+could wield a pen could do it for you! And you expect to be paid, as
+if you were a tradesman--a Tailor or an Upholsterer!"
+
+"But am I not a man and a brother? Do I not get hungry, like anyone
+else? Have I not a wife and family?"
+
+"That is entirely beside the question," persisted the Critic. "All you
+have to consider are the claims of Art. Now, Art is not to be served
+by paid votaries."
+
+"Then I suppose am unworthy," replied the Author, mournfully shaking
+his head. Well, let us exchange places. You shall be the Author, and
+I will be the Critic."
+
+"Very sorry, my dear friend, but that is an unjust division. By that
+means you would receive all the money."
+
+"And why not? If I am to write, why am I not to be paid?"
+
+"Because it is beneath the dignity of an Author to write with a view
+to obtaining cash."
+
+"Indeed! Well, I am tired of work. You have nothing to do but
+criticise. Let us swap positions."
+
+"Are you mad?" shouted the Critic. "Why, I am fond of my work. You
+don't imagine I am going to give up my salary to you? Why, it would
+demoralise you. I know the drawback of the system." And the Author
+applied himself to the study of the New Criticism, and it seemed as
+great a mystery to him as ever.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS.
+
+_Mount Street, Grosvenor Square_.
+
+DEAR MR. PUNCH,
+
+Nothing but a keen sense of duty, coupled with the possession of _the_
+smartest thing in waterproof overcoats ever seen, would have tempted
+me to go racing last week; but the claims of Hurst Park were not to
+be denied, and my reward was, assisting at perhaps the most successful
+meeting ever held there--(the backers "went down" to a man, and so
+did the excellent lunch--so what more _could_ you want?)--and, in
+addition, being told by at least twenty people, the name of the winner
+of the Cesarewitch!--they all named different horses, so that _one_ is
+almost certain to be able to say next week, in that annoying tone of
+voice people adopt after a successful prophecy--(this does _not_ apply
+to Just Prophets, who are notoriously modest in success)--"_There_!
+I _told_ you it was a certainty for _Whiteface_!--couldn't lose!--_of
+course_ you backed it, after what I told you!"--which of course was
+the very reason why you _hadn't_ backed it; however--as he may really
+be able to tell you something on a future occasion, you put on a
+ghastly smile, and say--"Oh, yes--I had a trifle on--but my _money_
+was on _Blackfoot_ before you told me--but it got me out!"--and it
+does "get you out" too, for nothing is more annoying than to be told
+you "ought to have won a good stake!"
+
+However, with regard to the great race next week, I am fortunately
+able to set aside all "information received," because I have had _a
+dream_!--not one of the ordinary lobster-salad kind of racing-dreams
+one reads about--(naturally _I_ should not have an inferior kind,
+having ordered in a stock of the "best selected," one to be taken
+every night at bed-time)--in which the dreamer only sees _one_
+horse--but a most complicated affair, from which it will be an easy
+task for anyone skilled in dream-lore to extract the winner!
+
+Well--I had been rather upset during the day, so to quiet my nerves,
+on reaching home, I took, before going to bed, just a little _Golden
+Drop_ of _Brandy_ as an _Insurance_ against restlessness--went
+to sleep, and dreamt that my friends _Lady Villikins_ and _Madame
+d'Albany_, with their maid _Helen Ware_, were attacked on their way
+from _Illsley_ to _Weymouth_, by some _Dare Devil_ of a _Circassian_,
+whose horse's hoofs rang in a _Metallic_ manner on the road! They were
+rescued in the pass of _Ben Avon_ by the gallant _Burnaby_, who after
+a long _Rigmarole_, squared their captor, _Roy Neil_, with a _Hanover
+Jack_, and acted as their _Pilot_ to safe quarters at _Versailles_!
+There!--that was my dream--and I think it points most conclusively
+to the winner; and, anyone unable to pick the right one, need only
+back them _all_, and there you are!--or at least you _may_ be. If
+they don't care to do this, they can avail themselves of my verse
+selection--which I did _not_ dream--and which, therefore, is _quite_
+as reliable.
+
+Yours, devotedly, LADY GAY.
+
+CESAREWITCH SELECTION.
+
+ Oh, _Weymouth_ is a pleasant _place_,
+ And bathing tents are handy;
+ When coming out, if white your face,
+ Why, take a nip of _Brandy_.
+
+P.S.--This advice is not intended for confirmed Topers.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"SUR LE TAPIS."--If the new Carpet Knight, Sir BLONDEL MAPLE--which is
+our troubadourish way of spelling it--be exceptionally successful on
+the Turf, isn't he just the man to "make his 'pile' and cut it"?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: A CONTENTED MIND.
+
+_He_. "A--THE FACT IS, I DON'T CARE FOR POPULARITY. I ONLY WISH MY
+BOOKS TO BE ADMIRED BY THOSE WHOSE ADMIRATION IS REALLY WORTH HAVING!"
+
+_She_. "AND WHO ARE THEY?"
+
+_He_. "THOSE WHO ADMIRE MY BOOKS!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+Not the least interesting figure in the circle of _The Racing Life of
+Lord George Bentinck_, which Messrs. BLACKWOOD produce in a handsome
+volume, is that of JOHN KENT, who, under the editorship of Mr. FRANK
+LAWLEY, tells the story. KENT was trainer to Lord GEORGE during
+the period when, to quote the characteristic Disraelian phrase,
+his Lordship became "Lord Paramount of the Turf." It is forty-four
+years since Lord GEORGE was found lying dead on his face in the
+water-meadows near Welbeck Abbey. Yet KENT remembers all about
+him--his six feet of height, his long black frock-coat, his velvet
+waistcoat, his gold chain, and his "costly cream-coloured satin scarf
+of great length, knotted under his chin, with a gold pin stuck in
+it." These scarves cost twenty shillings a-piece, and it was one of
+Lord GEORGE's fancies never to wear one a second time. When he died
+whole drawersful of them were found, and honest JOHN KENT purchased
+half-a-dozen from his Lordship's valet, who seems to have kept his
+eye on them. Did he ever wear them on Sundays? My Baronite who has
+been reading the book trows not. JOHN KENT knows his place better
+than that, and when he goes the way that masters and servants tread
+together, the scarves will doubtless be found tucked away in _his_
+chest of drawers. My Baronite is not able to take the same lofty view
+of the defunct nobleman who played at politics and worked at racing as
+does his faithful old servitor. Lord GEORGE seems to have been, as the
+cabman observed of the late JOHN FORSTER, "a harbitery gent," kind to
+those who faithfully serve him (as one is kind to a useful hound),
+but relentless to any who offended him or crossed his path. Moreover,
+whilst, as his biographer devoutly says, he purified the turf, he was
+not, upon occasion, above fighting blacklegs with their own weapons.
+The book gives clear glimpses of men and times which, less than half
+a century dead, will never live again. It pleasantly testifies that,
+though no man may be a hero to his valet, Lord GEORGE BENTINCK remains
+one in the eyes of his trainer.
+
+The Baron not having read a three-volume novel for some considerable
+time, may safely affirm, instead of taking his oath, that Mrs.
+OLIPHANT's _The Cuckoo in the Nest_ is one of the best he has come
+across for quite two months. It opens well, and if it drops a bit
+about the middle, there are all sorts of surprises yet in store for
+the reader, who, the Baron assures him or her, will be rewarded for
+his, or her, perseverance.
+
+The Baron begs to recommend the latest volume of the Whitefriars
+Library, called _King Zub_, by W.H. POLLOCK. _Zub_ is a wise poodle,
+and the waggish tale of the dog gives the name to the collection.
+_The Fleeting Show_ is quite on a par with _The Green Lady_ in a
+former collection by the same author, and such other stories as _Sir
+Jocelyn's Cap_ and _A Phantom Fish_ will delight those who, like the
+Baron, love the mixture as before of the weird and the humorous. In
+the _Phantom Fish_ there is much local dialect, and The Baron coming
+across the expression, "a proper bender," is inclined to ask if this
+is not Zummerzetsheer for, and only applicable to, a running hare? The
+Baron remembers the expression well, though 'tis years since he heard
+it, and owns to being uncertain as to whether it is not Devonian or
+Cornish. That he heard it applied to a hare apparent he is prepared
+to make oath and say; but he is not in the least prepared to assert
+that it is not generally applied as an expression of admiration for
+adroitness in avoiding pursuit. "Be that as it may, give me _King Zub_
+and the other stories, a good fire, a glass of spiritual comfort, a
+cosy chair, and a soothing pipe, and I am prepared to spend a pleasant
+evening," says
+
+THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: MR. PUNCH'S DEER-STALKING PARTY.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+CONVERSATIONAL HINTS FOR YOUNG SHOOTERS.
+
+(_BY MR. PUNCH'S OWN GROUSE IN THE GUN-ROOM._)
+
+In our last (it is _Mr. Punch_ who speaks), we indicated very briefly
+the conversational possibilities of the Gun. It must be observed, that
+this treatise makes no pretensions to be exhaustive. Something must,
+after all, be left to the ingenuity of the young shooter who desires
+to talk of sport. All that these hints profess, is to put him in the
+way of shining, if there is a certain amount of natural brightness to
+begin upon. The next subject will be--
+
+CARTRIDGES.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+To a real talker, this subject offers an infinite variety of
+opportunities. First, you can begin to fight the battle of the
+powders, as thus:--
+
+"What powder are you shooting with this year, CHALMERS?"
+
+"Schultze."
+
+"How do you find it kill?"
+
+"Deadly--absolutely-deadly: best lot I've ever had."
+
+You need not say anything more now. The discussion will get along
+beautifully without you, for you will have drawn, (1), the man who
+very much prefers E.C., which he warrants to kill at a distance no
+other powder can attain to; (2), the man who uses E.C. or Schultze
+for his right barrel, and always puts a black-powder cartridge into
+his left; (3), the detester of innovations, who means to go on using
+the good old black-powder for both barrels as long as he lives; and
+(4), the man who is trying an entirely new patent powder, infinitely
+superior to anything else ever invented, and is willing to give
+everybody, not only the address of the maker, but half a dozen
+cartridges to try.
+
+You cannot make much of "charges" of powder. Good shots are dogmatic
+on the point, and ordinary shots don't bother their heads about it,
+trusting entirely to the man who sells them their cartridges. Still
+you might throw out, here and there, a few words about "drams" and
+"grains." Only, above all things, be careful _not_ to mention drams
+in connection with anything but black powder, nor grains, except with
+reference to Schultze or E.C. A laboriously-acquired reputation as a
+scientific shot has been known to be ruined by a want of clearness on
+this important point.
+
+"Shot." Conversationally much more valuable than powder. "Very few
+people agree," says a well-known authority; "as to what is the best
+size of shot to use, and many forget that the charge which will suit
+one gun, and one description of game, will not do as well for another.
+Usually, one gun will shoot better one size of shot than will another,
+and we may safely say, that large bores shoot large shot better than
+do smaller bores." This last sentence has the beautiful ring of a
+profound truism. Lay it by for use, and bring it out with emphasis in
+the midst of such disagreement and forgetfulness as are here alluded
+to. "If a shooter is a good shot," says the same classic, "he may
+use No. 6 early in the season, and only for partridges--afterwards,
+nothing but No. 5. To the average shot, No. 6 throughout the season."
+This sounds dreadfully invidious. If a good shot cannot kill grouse
+with No. 6, how on earth is a merely average shot to do the trick?
+But, in these matters, the conversationalist finds his opportunity.
+Only they must not be pushed too far. There was once a party of
+genial, light-hearted friends, who went out shooting. Early in the
+day, slight differences of opinion made themselves observed with
+reference to the size of shot. Lunch found them still more or less
+good-tempered, but each obstinately determined not to give way even by
+a fraction on the point under discussion.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Afterwards they began again. The very dogs grew ashamed of the
+noise, and went home. That afternoon there was peace in the world of
+birds--at least, on that particular shooting--and the next morning saw
+the shooting-parties of England reduced by one, which had separated
+in different dog-carts, and various stages of high dudgeon, for the
+railway station. So, please to be very, very careful. Use the methods
+of compromise. If you find your friend obstinately pinned to No. 5,
+when you have declared a preference for No. 6, meet him half-way,
+or even profess to be converted by his arguments. Or tell him the
+anecdote about the Irishman, who always shot snipe with No. 4,
+because, "being such a little bird, bedad, you want a bigger shot to
+get at the beggar." You can then inform him how you yourself once did
+dreadful execution among driven grouse in a gale of wind with No. 8
+shot, which you had brought out by mistake. You may object that you
+never, as a matter of fact, did this execution, never having even shot
+at all with No. 8. Tush! you are puling. If you are going to let a
+conscientious accuracy stand in your way like this, you had better
+become dumb when sporting talk is flying about. Of course you must not
+exaggerate too much. Only bumptious fools do that, and they are called
+liars for their pains. But a _little_ exaggeration, just a _soupcon_
+of romance, does no one any harm, while it relieves the prosaic
+dullness of the ordinary anecdote. So, swallow your scruples, and
+
+ Join the gay throng
+ That goes talking along,
+ For we'll all go romancing to-day.
+
+(_To be continued._)
+
+ * * * * *
+
+DOE VERSUS ROE(DENT).
+
+ ["The basements of the Royal Courts of Justice have lately
+ been invaded by swarms of mice. They have become very
+ audacious, and have penetrated into the Courts themselves,
+ whose walls are lined with legal volumes, the leaves of which
+ provide them with a rich feast."--_Daily Paper_.]
+
+ For students of the law to "eat
+ Their terms" is obviously right,
+ But to devour the books themselves
+ Is impolite.
+
+ Unfortunately Mr. STREET.
+ Who planned the legal edif-[=i]ce,
+ Designed a splendid trap for men,
+ But not for mice.
+
+ To view the Courts at midnight now,
+ The Courts all in the stilly Strand,
+ With rodents squeaking out their pleas,
+ That _would_ be grand!
+
+ No Ushers 'ush them; they consume
+ The stiffest calf you ever saw,
+ Developing, these curious beasts,
+ A taste for Law.
+
+ They fill--perhaps--the box wherein,
+ Twelve bothered men have often sat,
+ And try, with every proper form,
+ Some absent cat.
+
+ A fore-mouse probably they choose,
+ The culprit's advocate deride,
+ And fix upon that cat the guilt
+ Of mouseycide.
+
+ At the Refreshment-bars, perchance,
+ They eat the cakes, and drink the milk,
+ And in the Robing-room indulge
+ In "taking silk."
+
+ The Judges' sacred Bench itself
+ From scampering feet is not exempt;
+ With calmness they commit, of Court,
+ Frightful "contempt."
+
+ Through _Byles on Bills_ they eat their way;
+ Law "Digests" they at will digest;
+ Not even _Coke on Littleton_
+ Sticks on _their_ chests!
+
+ Wanted--the stodgiest Law-book out!
+ The Judges soon _must_ note these facts,
+ And try a copy of the Ju-
+ -dicature Acts!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+WHY THE FRENCH WON THE BOAT-RACE.
+
+(_ANSWERS SUPPLIED BY AN UNPREJUDICED BRITON._)
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Because the English Eight had had no practice on the Seine.
+
+Because the Londoners had had a fearful passage crossing the Channel.
+
+Because they smashed their boat, and had to have it repaired.
+
+Because the English steering might have been better.
+
+Because the weather was intolerable, and chiefly affected the
+Englishmen.
+
+Because the Londoners had no chance of pulling together.
+
+Because the French knew the course better than the English.
+
+Because the race should have been rowed weeks before.
+
+Because the race should not have been rowed for months.
+
+Because the British naturally liked to see the foreigners win.
+
+And last (and least), because the French had by far the better crew!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ECCLESIASTICAL INTELLIGENCE.--The style, title, office, and dignity
+of Archbishop of Canterbury, with all appurtenances thereto belonging,
+with all emoluments, spiritualities and temporalities appertaining,
+have been conferred by letters patent, under supreme authority,
+according to Act V. Henricus Noster in such cases made and provided,
+on the Rev. Mr. VINCENT, in consequence of the retirement of the Right
+Rev. ARTHUR STIRLING from the said office; the duties of which he so
+recently and so effectively performed between the hours of ten-thirty
+and eleven-fifteen every night for several months at the Theatre Royal
+Lyceum. We are in a position to add, that his resignation of this
+high and valuable office, has not taken place in consequence of any
+question as to the validity or invalidity of orders ("not admitted
+after 7.30"), nor has this step been rendered imperative by reason of
+any "irregularity" in "properties" or "appointments."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+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, October 15, 1892, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
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