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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 103,
+October 22, 1892, by Various, Edited by F. C. Burnand
+
+
+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 22, 1892
+
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: April 9, 2005 [eBook #15594]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI,
+VOL. 103, OCTOBER 22, 1892***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+ file which includes the original illustrations.
+ See 15594-h.htm or 15594-h.zip:
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/5/9/15594/15594-h/15594-h.htm)
+ or
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/5/9/15594/15594-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
+
+VOL. 103
+
+OCTOBER 22, 1892
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+IN MEMORIAM.
+
+WILLIAM HARDWICK BRADBURY.
+
+BORN, DEC. 3, 1832. DIED, OCT. 13, 1892.
+
+ Large-hearted man, most loyal friend,
+ Art thou too gone--too early lost?
+ Our comrade true, our tireless host!
+ Prompt to inspire, console, defend!
+ Gone! Hearts with grateful memories stored
+ Ache for thy loss round the old board.
+
+ The well-loved board _he_ loved so well,
+ His pride, his care, his ceaseless thought;
+ To him with life-long memories fraught;
+ For him invested with the spell
+ O'er a glad present ever cast
+ By solemn shadows of the past.
+
+ That past for him, indeed, was filled
+ With a proud spirit-retinue.
+ Greatness long since his guest he knew.
+ Whom THACKERAY's manly tones had thrilled;
+ Who heard keen JERROLD's sparkling speech,
+ And marked the genial grace of LEECH.
+
+ What changes had he known, who sat
+ With our four chiefs, of each fast friend!
+ And must such _camaraderie_ end?
+ Shall friendly counsel, cordial chat,
+ Come nevermore again to us
+ From lips with kindness tremulous?
+
+ No more shall those blue eyes ray out
+ Swift sympathy, or sudden mirth;
+ That ever mobile mouth give birth
+ To frolic whim, or friendly flout?
+ Our hearts will miss thee to the end,
+ Amphitryon generous, faithful friend!
+
+ Miss thee? Alas! the void that's there
+ No other form may hope to fill,
+ For those who now with sorrow thrill
+ In gazing on that vacant chair;
+ Whither it seems he _must_ return,
+ For whose warm hand-clasp yet we yearn.
+
+ Tribute to genius all may give,
+ Ours is the homage of the heart;
+ For a friend lost our tears will start,
+ Lost to our sight, yet who shall live,
+ Whilst one who knew that bold frank face
+ At the old board takes the old place.
+
+ For those, his closer kin, whose home
+ Is darkened by the shadow grey,
+ What can respectful love but pray
+ That consolation thither come
+ In that most sacred soothing guise
+ Which natural sorrow sanctifies.
+
+ Bereavement's anguish to assuage
+ Is a sore task that lies beyond
+ The scope of friendship or most fond
+ Affection's power. Yet may this page,
+ True witness of our love and grief,
+ To bowed hearts bring some scant relief!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"ANECDOTAGE."
+
+_COMPANION PARAGRAPH TO STORIES OF THE SAME KIND._
+
+CURRAN, the celebrated Irish Patriot, was a man of intense wit and
+humour. On one occasion he was discussing with RICHARD BRINSLEY
+SHERIDAN the possibility of combining the interests of the two
+countries under one Crown. "It is a difficult matter to arrange,"
+observed the brilliant author of the _School for Scandal_, "Right you
+are, darlint," acquiesced CURRAN, with the least taste of a brogue.
+"But where are ye to find the spalpeens for it? Ye may wake so poor a
+creature as a sow, but it takes a real gintleman to raise the rint!"
+Then, with a twinkle in his eyes, "But, for all that, ma cruiskeen,
+I'm not meself at all at all!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE LAY OF A SUCCESSFUL ANGLER.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ The dainty artificial fly
+ Designed to catch the wily trout,
+ Full loud _laudabunt alii_,
+ And I will join, at times, no doubt,
+ But yet my praise, without pretence,
+ Is not from great experience.
+
+ I talk as well as anyone
+ About the different kinds of tackle,
+ I praise the Gnat, the Olive Dun,
+ Discuss the worth of wings and hackle;
+ I've flies myself of each design,
+ No book is better filled than mine.
+
+ But when I reach the river's side
+ Alone, for none of these I wish.
+ No victim to a foolish pride.
+ My object is to capture fish;
+ Let me confess, then, since you ask it--
+ A worm it is which fills my basket!
+
+ O brown, unlovely, wriggling worm,
+ On which with scorn the haughty look,
+ It is thy fascinating squirm
+ Which brings the fattest trout to book,
+ From thee unable to refrain,
+ Though flies are cast for him in vain!
+
+ Deep gratitude to thee I feel,
+ And then, perhaps, it's chiefly keen,
+ When rival anglers view my creel,
+ And straightway turn a jealous green;
+ And, should they ask me--"What's your fly?"
+ "A fancy pattern," I reply!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SWORD AND PEN;
+
+OR, THE RIVAL COMMANDERS.
+
+(_EXTRACT FROM A MILITARY STORY OF THE NEAR FUTURE._)
+
+Captain Pipeclay was perplexed when his Company refused to obey him.
+He was considered a fairly good soldier, but not up to date. He might
+know his drill, he might have read his _Queen's Regulations_, but he
+had vague ideas of the power of the Press.
+
+"You see, Sir," remonstrated his Colour-Sergeant; "if the rear rank
+think they should stand fast when you give the command 'Open order!'
+it is only a matter of opinion. You may be right, or you may be wrong.
+Speaking for myself, I am inclined to fancy that the men are making a
+mistake; but you can't always consider yourself omniscient."
+
+"Sergeant," returned the officer, harshly; "it is not the business of
+men to argue, but to obey."
+
+"Pardon me again, Sir, but isn't that slightly old-fashioned? I know
+that theoretically you have reason on your side; but then in these
+days of the latter end of the nineteenth century, we must not he bound
+too tightly to precedent."
+
+The Captain bit his moustache for the fourth time, and then again gave
+the order. But there was no response. The Company moved not a muscle.
+
+"This is mutiny!" cried the officer. "I will break everyone of you.
+I will put you all in the cells; and in the orderly room to-morrow
+morning, we will soon see if there is such a thing as discipline."
+
+"Discipline!" repeated the Sergeant. "Beg your pardon, Sir, but I
+don't think the men understand what you mean. The word is not to be
+found in the most recent dictionaries."
+
+And certainly things seemed to be reaching a climax, for however much
+the Commander might shout, not one of the rank and file stirred an
+inch. It was at this moment that a cloaked figure approached the
+parade-ground. The new-comer strode about with a bearing that
+suggested one accustomed to receive obedience.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked the Disguised One.
+
+"I can't get my men to obey me," explained the Captain. "I have been
+desiring them to take open order for the last ten minutes, and they
+remain as they were."
+
+"What have they to say in their defence?" was the inquiry of the Man
+in the Cloak.
+
+"He won't let us write to the newspapers!" was heard from the ranks.
+
+"Is this really so?" asked the new-comer, in a tone more of sorrow
+than of anger.
+
+"Well, Sir," returned the Captain, "as it is a rule of the Service
+that no communications shall be sent to the Press, I thought that--"
+
+"You had no right to think, Sir!" was the sharp reply. "Are you so
+ignorant that you do not know that it is a birth-right of a true-born
+Briton to air his opinions in the organs of publicity? You will allow
+the men to go to their quarters at once, that they may state their
+grievances on paper. They are at perfect liberty to write what they
+please, and they may rest assured that their communications will
+escape the grave of the waste-paper basket."
+
+Thus encouraged, the Company dismissed without further word of
+command.
+
+"And who may you be?" asked the Captain, with some bitterness. "Are
+you the Commander-in-Chief?"
+
+"I am one infinitely more powerful," was the reply. And then the
+speaker threw off his disguise-cloak, and appeared in morning-dress.
+"Behold in me the Editor of an influential Journal!"
+
+A week later the Captain had sent in his papers, and every man in the
+Company he had once commanded wore the stripe of a Lance Corporal. And
+thus was the power of the Press once again sufficiently vindicated.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE BATTLE OF THE BARDS; OR, THE LISTS FOR THE LAURELS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+PROEM.
+
+ _Tan-ta-ra-ra-ra-ra!_ The trumpets blare!
+ The rival Bards, wild-eyed, with windblown hair,
+ And close-hugged harps, advance with fire-winged feet
+ For the green Laureate Laurels to compete;
+ The laurels vacant from the brows of him
+ In whose fine light all lesser lustres dim.
+ Tourney of Troubadours! The laurels lie
+ On crimson velvet cushion couched on high,
+ Whilst _Punch_, Lord-Warden of his country's fame,
+ Attends the strains to hear, the victor-bard to name.
+
+ And first advances, as by right supreme,
+ With frosted locks adrift, and eyes a-dream,
+ With quick short footfalls, and an arm a-swing,
+ As to some cosmic rhythm heard to ring
+ From Putney to Parnassus, a brief bard.
+ (In stature, _not_ in song!) Though passion-scarred,
+ Porphyrogenitus at least he looks;
+ Haughty as one who rivalry scarce brooks;
+ Unreminiscent now of youthful rage,
+ Almost "respectable," and well-nigh sage,
+ Dame GRUNDY owns her once redoubted foe,
+ Whose polished paganry's erotic flow,
+ And red anarchic wrath 'gainst priests, and kings,
+ The virtues, and most other "proper" things,
+ Once drew her frown where now her smile's bestowed.
+ Such is the power of timely palinode!
+ Soft twanged his lyre and loud his voice outrang,
+ As the first Bard this moving measure sang:--
+
+ON THE BAYS.
+
+(_To the tune--more or less--of "In the Bay."_)
+
+I.
+
+ Beyond the bellowing onset of base war,
+ Their latest wearer wendeth! With wild zest.
+ Fulfilled of windy resonance, the rest
+ Of the bard-mob must hotly joust and jar
+ To win the wreath that he beyond the bar
+ Bare not away athwart the bland sea's breast.
+
+II.
+
+ And sooth the soft sheen of that deathless bay
+ Gleams glamorous! Amorous was I in my day,
+ Clamorous were Gath's goose-critics. But my fire,
+ Chastened from To-phet-fumes, burns purer, higher;
+ My thoughts on courtier-wings _might_ make their way
+ Did my brow bear the laurels all these desire.
+
+III.
+
+ For I, to the proprieties reconciled.
+ Who hymned Dolores, sing the "weanling child."
+ At "home-made treacle" I made mocking mirth;
+ That was before my better self had birth.
+ At virtue's lilies and languors then I smiled,
+ But Hertha's _not_ thine only goddess, O Earth!
+
+IV.
+
+ For surely brother, and master, and lord, and king,
+ Though vice's roses and raptures did not spring
+ In thy poetic garden's trim parterre;
+ Though thou wert fond of sunshine and sweet air,
+ More than of kisses, that burn, and bite, and sting;
+ Some living love our England for thee bare.
+
+V.
+
+ Thou, too, couldst sing about her sweet salt sea,
+ And trumpet pæans loud to Liberty,
+ With clamour of all applausive throats. Thy feet,
+ Not wine-press red, yet left the flowers more sweet,
+ From the pure passage of the god to be;
+ And then couldst thunder praises of England's Fleet.
+
+VI.
+
+ I did not think to glorify gods and kings,
+ Who scourged them ever with hate's sanguineous rods;
+ But who with hope and faith may live at odds?
+ And then these jingling jays with plume-plucked wings,
+ Compete, and laureate laurels _are_ lovely things,
+ Though crowing lyric lauders of kings and gods!
+
+ Beshrew the blatant bleating of sheep-voiced mimes!
+ True thunder shall strike dumb their chirping chimes.
+ If there _be_ laureate laurels, or bays, or palms,
+ In these red, Radical, revelling, riotous times,
+ They should be the true bard's, though mid-age calms
+ His revolutionary fierce rolling rhymes,
+ Fulfilled with clamour and clangour and storm of--psalms
+
+ That great lyre's golden echoes rolled away!
+ Forth tripped another claimant of the bay.
+ Trim, tittivated, tintinnabulant,
+ His bosom aped the true Parnassian pant,
+ As may a housemaid's leathern bellows mock
+ The rock--whelmed Titan's breathings. He no shock
+ Of bard-like shagginess shook to the breeze.
+ A modern Cambrian Minstrel hopes to please
+ By undishevelled dandy-daintiness,
+ Whether of lays or locks, of rhymes or dress.
+ Some bards pipe from Parnassus, some from Hermon;
+ Room for the singer of the Sunday Sermon!
+ His stimulant tepid tea, his theme a text,
+ Carmarthen's cultured caroller comes next!
+
+THE WORTH OF VERSE.
+
+AIR--"_The Birth of Verse_."
+
+ Wild thoughts which occupy the brain,
+ Vague prophecies which fill the ear,
+ Dim perturbation, precious pain,
+ A gleam of hope, a chill of fear,--
+ These vex the poet's spirit. Moral:--
+ Have a shy at the Laureate Laurel!
+
+ Some say no definite thought there is
+ In my full flatulence of sound.
+ Let National Observers quiz
+ (H-NL-Y won't have it. I'll be bound!)
+ Envy! _O trumpery, O MORRIS!_
+ Could JUVENAL jealous be of HORACE?
+
+ I know the chambers of my soul
+ Are filled with laudatory airs,
+ Such as the salaried bard should troll
+ When he the Laureate laurels wears.
+ And I am he who opened Hades,
+ To harmless parsons and to ladies!
+
+ For I _can_ "moralise my song"
+ More palpably than Mr. POPE;
+ And I can touch the toiling throng:
+ There is small doubt of _that_, I hope.
+ I've piped for him who ploughs the furrows,
+ And stood for the Carmarthen Boroughs.
+
+ I mayn't be strong, inspired, complete,
+ But on the Liberal goose I'm sound.
+ And I can count my (rhythmic) feet
+ With any Pegasus around.
+ I witch all women, and some men,
+ GLADSTONE I've drawn, and written "_Gwen_."
+
+ If these be not sufficient claims,
+ The worth of Verse is vastly small.
+ I've called him various pretty names,
+ The honoured Master of us all;
+ "His place is with the Immortals." Yes!
+ But I could fill it _here_, I guess!
+
+ His "chaste white Muse" could not object,
+ For mine is white, and awfully chaste.
+ Now ALGERNON has no respect
+ For purity and public taste.
+ EDWIN is given to allegory.
+ Whilst ALFRED is a wicked Tory!!!
+
+ He ceased. Great PUNCHIUS rubbed his eagle beak.
+ And said, "I think we'll take the rest next week!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Experienced Sportsman_ (_on Pony_). "WELL--HAD GOOD
+SPORT, FRED, OLD BOY?"
+
+_Inexperienced Fred_. "NOT EXACTLY 'GOOD,'--BUT I THINK I'VE LET OFF
+ABOUT A HUNDRED CARTRIDGES."
+
+_Experienced Sportsman_. "NOT SO BAD. S'POSE YOU MUST HAVE 'LET OFF'
+AN EQUAL NUMBER OF PARTRIDGES!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+IN A GHOST-SHOW.
+
+ _Warlock's "Celebrated Ghost-Exhibition and Deceptio Visus"
+ has pitched its tent for the night on a Village Green, and the
+ thrilling Drama of "Maria Martin, or, The Murder in the Red
+ Barn, in three long Acts, with unrivalled Spectral Effects and
+ Illusions," is about to begin. The Dramatis Personæ are on the
+ platform outside; the venerable Mr. MARTIN is exhorting the
+ crowd to step up and witness his domestic tragedy, while the
+ injured MARIA, is taking the twopences at the door; WILLIAM
+ CORDER is finishing a pipe, and two of the Angelic Visions
+ are dancing, in blue velveteen and silver braid, to the
+ appropriate air of "The Bogie Man."_
+
+INSIDE.
+
+ _The front benches are occupied by Rustic Youths, who beguile
+ the tedium of waiting by smoking short clays, and trying to
+ pull off one another's caps._
+
+_First Youth_ (_examining the decorative Shakspearian panels on the
+proscenium._) They three old wimmin be a-pokin' o' that old nipper,
+'ooever he be.
+
+ [_The "old nipper" in question is, of course, MACBETH._
+
+_Second Youth._ Luk up at that 'un tother side--it's a Gineral's
+gho-ast a-frightenin' th' undertaker (_A subject from "Hamlet"_)
+They've gi'en over dancin' outside--they'll be beginning soon. (_The
+company descend the steps, and pass behind the scenes._) We shall see
+proper 'ere, we shall.
+
+ [_The Curtain draws up, and reveals a small stage, with an
+ inclined sheet of glass in a heavy frame in front; behind this
+ glass is the Cottage Home of MARIA MARTIN._
+
+_Maria_ (_coming out of Cottage, and speaking in an inaudible tone_).
+At last--WILLIAM CORDER--to make me his wife--I know not why--strange
+misgiving 'as come over me.
+
+[Illustration: "They catch one another's wrists, and walk up and down
+together."]
+
+ [_She is unfeelingly requested to speak up._
+
+_William Corder_ (_whose villany is suggested at once by his wearing
+a heavy silver double watch-chain, with two coins appended, and no
+neck-tie--enters left_). Yes, MARIA, as I have promised, I will take
+you to London, and make you my wife--but first meet me in disguise
+to-night, and in secret, at the Red Barn.
+
+ [_MARIA is understood to demur, but finally agrees to the
+ rendezvous, and retires into the Cottage. Old Mr. MARTIN
+ comes out in a black frock-coat, and a white waistcoat--he
+ has no neck-tie either, but the omission, in his case, merely
+ suggests a virtuous economy. He feebly objects to MARIA
+ being married in London, but admits that, "Perhaps he has no
+ right to interfere with WILLIAM's arrangements," and goes
+ indoors again. WILLIAM retires, and the scene changes to a
+ 'very small street, which is presently invaded by a very large
+ Comic Countryman, called "TIM," who is engaged to MARIA's
+ sister NANNY._
+
+_Tim_. They tell I, as how the streets o' Lunnon be paved wi' gold,
+and I be goin' 'oop to make ma fortune, I be.
+
+ [_NANNY comes in and bribes him to remain by the promise of
+ "cold pudden with plenty of gravy." Comic business, during
+ which every reference to "cold pudden" (and there are several)
+ is received with roars of laughter. WILLIAM CORDER, on
+ the ingenious plea that he wishes to take some flowers up
+ to London, borrows a spade and pickaxe from TIM, to whom it
+ appears he owes ninepence, which he promises--like the villain
+ he is--to repay "the very next time he sees him in Church."_
+
+_William_ (_going off with a flourish and a Shakspearian couplet_).
+ My _mind's_ made up. Hence _all_ thoughts _that_ are good!
+ Crimes _once_ commenced, _Must_. End in--blood! [_Act drop._
+
+_A Female Spect._ They don't seem in no 'urry to come to th' Gho-ast
+part, seemin'ly.
+
+_Her Swain._ Ye wudn't have 'em do th' Gho-ast afoor th' Murder, wud
+ye?
+
+ ACT II.--_The interior of the Red Barn. WILLIAM _discovered
+ digging MARIA's grave in his shirt-sleeves, and thereby
+ revealing that his shirt-front is as false as his heart.
+ He announces that "Nothing can shake him, now, from his
+ pre-determined purpose," and that "the grave gapes for its
+ coming victim."_
+
+ _Enter MARIA, disguised in a brown bowler hat and a very
+ tight suit of tweed "dittoes," in which she looks very like
+ the "Male Impersonator" at a Music-hall. The Audience receive
+ her with derision and the recommendation to go and get her
+ hair cut._
+
+_Maria_. Here am I in disguise at the Red Barn. And yet something
+seems to whisper to me that danger is near. WILLIAM, where, _where_
+are you?
+
+_William_ (_coming out of a corner_). 'Ere, MARIA, 'ere! (_Aside._)
+Now to 'url my victim to an early grave! (_Aloud._) 'Ave you obeyed my
+instructions and avoided notice?
+
+_Maria_. I have. Whenever I saw anyone approaching, I hid behind a
+hedge and ducked in the ditch.
+
+_William_ (_with sombre approval_). That was most discreet on your
+part, MARIA. No one saw you come in, and no one will ever see you go
+out. Be'old your open grave!
+
+ [_After some pleading from MARIA, a desperate struggle takes
+ place--that is, they catch one another's wrists, and walk up
+ and down together. MARIA calls upon her Mother's spirit,
+ whereupon a very youthful Angel is seen floating above the
+ couple._
+
+_The Female S._ (_triumphantly_). Theer now--theer ain't bin no murder
+yet, and theer's th' Gho-ast sure enough!
+
+_Swain_ (_who is not going to own that he is mistaken_). That ain't
+naw Gho-ast!
+
+_Female S._ What is it, then?
+
+_Swain._ Why, it's the "De-cep-ti-o Vissus," as was wrote up outside.
+
+ [_The Guardian Angel vanishes; WILLIAM _gets a spade, and
+ aims at MARIA, who takes it away, and strikes him; he is
+ then reduced to the pick-axe, but she wrests this from him
+ too, and hits him in the face with it. He pulls her coat off,
+ and her hair down--but she escapes from him a third time--on
+ which he snatches up a pistol, and fires it._
+
+_William_ (_with unreasonable surprise_). Great Evans! What 'ave I
+done? I, am become a _Murderer_! The shot 'as taken effect! See,
+she staggers this way! (_Which MARIA does, to die comfortably in
+WILLIAM's arms_.) I 'ave slain the only woman who ever truly loved
+me; and I know not whether I loved her most while living, or hate her
+most now she's dead! (_The Curtain falls, leaving WILLIAM with this
+nice point still unsolved, and the Audience profoundly unmoved by the
+tragedy, and evidently longing for more of the Comic Countryman._)
+
+ ACT III.--_Interior of Old MARTIN's Cottage. He attempts to
+ forget his anxiety about his daughter--who he fears, with
+ only too much reason, has come to an untimely end--by going to
+ sleep in a highly uncomfortable position on a kitchen-chair.
+ The Murder is re-enacted in a vision, in dumb-show. The form
+ of MARIA appears in the tweed suit, and urges him to search
+ for her remains in the Red Barn._
+
+_Old Martin_ (_awaking_). I have 'ad a fearful dream, and I am under
+the impression that MARIA has been foully murdered in the Red Barn.
+
+ [_He calls the Comic Countryman to help him "to commence
+ a thorough investigation"--which he does, in a spirit of
+ rollicking fun befitting the occasion, as the Scene changes to
+ the Red Barn._
+
+_Old M._ (_finding the spade_). What's this? A spade--and, by its
+appearance, it 'as recently been used, for there are marks of blood
+upon it! I now begin to be afraid my dream will come true.
+
+ [_Roars of laughter when the Comic C. discovers the body, and
+ implores it to "say summat!" Change of Scene. WILLIAM CORDER
+ discovered At Home, in a long perspective of pillars and
+ curtains, ending in a lawn and fountain._
+
+_William_ (_moodily_). 'Tis now exactly twelve months since MARIA
+MARTIN was done to death by these 'ands. Since then, I have married a
+young, rich, and beautiful wife--and yet I am not 'appy.
+
+ [_Enter Old MARTIN, who, by the simple method of changing
+ his hat and coat, has now become a Bow-street Officer; he puts
+ questions to WILLIAM, who at once betrays himself, and has
+ to be searched. As a pair of pistols exactly resembling one
+ that was left in the Red Barn, are found in his coat-tail
+ pockets; his guilt is conclusively proved, and he is led away.
+ The next Scene shows him in the Condemned Cell, resolving to
+ sleep away his few remaining hours on a kitchen-chair. He has
+ a vision of MARIA in tweeds, who exhorts him to repent_.
+ Old MARTIN, _who is now either the Governor of the Gaol or the
+ Hangman, enters to conduct him to the scaffold, and on the way
+ he is met--to the joy of the Audience--by the Comic, C.,
+ who duns him for the ninepence. WILLIAM shakes his head
+ solemnly, points to the skies, and passes on. The Comic C.
+ then goes to sleep in a chair and has a vision on his own
+ account, in which he beholds the apotheosis of MARIA--still
+ in the suit of dittoes--and piloted by a couple of obviously
+ overweighted Angels; and also the last moments of WILLIAM
+ CORDER, who, as he stands under an enlarged "Punch"
+ gibbet, pronounces the following impressive farewell before
+ disappearing through a trap._
+
+ Ye Youth, be warned by my Despair!
+ Avoid bad women, false as they are fair. (_This is just a little
+ hard on poor MARIA by-the-way._)
+ Be wise in time, if you would shun my fate,
+ For oh! how wretched is the man who's wise too late!
+
+ [_And with this the Drama comes to an end, and the Comic
+ Countryman begs the Audience to give the performance a good
+ word to their friends outside._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+BETWEEN THE ACTS; OR, THE DRAMA IN LIQUOR.
+
+ SCENE--_Refreshment Saloon at a London Theatre. A three-play
+ bill forms the evening's entertainment. First Act over. Enter
+ BROWN, JONES, and ROBINSON._
+
+_Brown_. Well, really a very pleasant little piece. Quite amusing.
+Yes; I think I will have a cup of coffee or a glass of lemonade. Too
+soon after dinner for anything stronger.
+
+_Jones_. Yes, and really, after laughing so much, one gets a thirst
+for what they call light refreshments. I will have some ginger-beer.
+
+_Robinson_. Well, I think I will stick to iced-water. You know the
+Americans are very fond of that. They always take it at meal-times,
+and really after that capital _équivoque_ one feels quite satisfied.
+(_They are served by the Bar Attendant._) That was really very funny,
+where he hides behind the door when she is not looking.
+
+ [_Laughs at the recollection._
+
+_Brown_. And when the uncle sits down upon the band-box and crushes
+the canary-cage! [_Chuckles._
+
+_Jones_. Most clever. But there goes the bell, and the Curtain will
+be up directly. Rather clever, I am told. The _Rose of Rouen_--it
+is founded on the life of _Joan of Arc_. I am rather fond of these
+historical studies.
+
+_Brown_. So am I. They are very interesting.
+
+_Robinson_. Do you think so? Well, so far as I am concerned, I
+prefer Melodrama. Judging from the title, _The Gory Hand_ should be
+uncommonly good.
+
+ [_Exeunt into Theatre. After a pause they return to the
+ Refreshment Room._
+
+_Brown_. Well, it is very clever; but I confess it beats me. (_To Bar
+Attendant._) We will all take soda-water. No, thanks, quite neat, and
+for these gentlemen too.
+
+_Jones_. Well, I call it a most excellent psychological study.
+However, wants a clear head to understand it. (_Sips his soda-water._)
+I don't see how she can take the flag from the Bishop, and yet want to
+marry the Englishman.
+
+_Robinson_. Ah, but that was before the vision. If you think it over
+carefully, you will see it was natural enough. Of course, you
+must allow for the spirit of the period, and other surrounding
+circumstances.
+
+_Brown_. Are you going to stay for _The Gory Hand_?
+
+_Jones_. Not I. I am tired of play-acting, and think we have had
+enough of it.
+
+_Robinson_. Well, I think I shall look in. I am rather fond of strong
+scenes, and it should be good, to judge from the programme.
+
+_Jones_. Well, we will "sit out." It's rather gruesome. Quite
+different from the other plays.
+
+_Robinson_. Well, I don't mind horrors--in fact, like them. There goes
+the bell. So I am off. Wait until I come back.
+
+_Brown_. That depends how long you are away. Ta, ta!
+
+ [_Exit ROBINSON._
+
+_Jones_. Now, how a fellow can enjoy a piece like that, I cannot
+understand. It is full of murders, from the rise to the fall of the
+Curtain.
+
+_Brown_. Yes--but ROBINSON likes that sort of thing. You will see
+by-and-by how the plot will affect him. It is rather jumpy, especially
+at the end, when the severed head tells the story of the murder to the
+assistant executioner. I would not see it again on any account.
+
+_Jones_. No--it sent my Maiden Aunt in hysterics. However, it has the
+merit of being short. (_Applause._) Ah, there it's over! Let's see
+how ROBINSON likes it. That _tableau_ at the end, of the
+starving-coastguardsman expiring under the rack, is perfectly awful!
+(_Enter ROBINSON, staggering in._) Why, my boy, what's the matter?
+
+_Brown_. You do look scared! Have something to drink? That will set it
+all to-rights!
+
+_Robinson_ (_with his eyes protruding from his head, from horror_).
+Here, help! help! (_After a long shudder._) Brandy! Brandy I: Brandy!
+
+ [_At all the places at the bar there is a general demand for
+ alcohol._
+
+_Brown_. Yes. IRVING was right; soda-water does very well for
+SHAKSPEARE's histories, but when you come to a piece like _The Bells_,
+you require supporting. [_Curtain and moral._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"IN A WINTER (COVENT) GARDEN."
+
+That indefatigable Showman, Sir DRURIOLANUS, the Invincible Knight,
+commenced his Winter Operatic Season on Monday, the Tenth, at Covent
+Garden, so as to be well in advance of Signor LAGO, who may now boast
+of having _La Donna_, Her Most Gracious MAJESTY, for his patron.
+
+_Monday Night_.--The two RAVOGLIS in good form in the _Orféo._
+Likewise the Player of the Big Drum made more than one big hit during
+the evening. "_Che farò_" was re-demanded. "Tired of '_Faro_,'" quoth
+Mr. WAGGSTAFF--"why not make it '_Whisto_,' or some other game?"
+_Exit_ WAGGY. The _Intermezzo_ of _Cavalleria Rusticana_ of course
+encored enthusiastically. "Signor CREMONNINI," quoth WAGG, returning,
+"is not half the 'ninny' his name implies." And, indeed, from the
+moment he was heard singing "in his ambush" (as the Irish boy in the
+Gallery said of TOM HOHLER at the Dublin Theatre when he heard the
+_Trovatore's_ voice behind the scenes) before the rise of the Curtain,
+everyone said, "This is the tenner for our money."
+
+[Illustration: OPERATIC TACTICS.
+
+_Sir Druriolanus_. "I Say, Bevignani, I think we've got the right
+pitch, eh?"]
+
+_Tuesday_.--The namesake of our own GEORGE AUGUSTUS, Mlle. ROSITA
+SALA, made a real hit as _Leonora_ in _Il Trovatore_. "Handsome is as
+handsome does," and Mlle. SALA didn't act as "handsome" as she looked.
+Another "ninny" played to-night, namely GIANNINNI, all right vocally,
+but not much dramatically. "_Il Balen_" was encored when sung by a
+manly baritone with the feminine name of ANNA; i.e., Signor DE ANNA.
+He might advantageously alter DE-ANNA to APOLLO, that is if he could
+be sure of looking the part.
+
+_Wednesday_.--_Lohengrin_. MELBA as _Elsa_. WAGGSTAFF tried to make
+his usual pun on the name of _Ortruda_, but was "countered" by Young
+JUMPER who protested that he had heard it before and never wanted to
+hear it again. "I know what you're going to say," he exclaimed; "it's
+something about '_aught ruder_!' I know!" "I've no doubt you do,"
+returned the defrauded WAGGY, sarcastically, "for you're uncommonly
+like _Othello_, 'Rude am I in speech'--only," added WAGGSTAFF, "_he_
+apologised for it." Young JUMPER sniggered, his friends laughed, and
+the incident terminated. The Chorus seemed to have become Wandering
+Minstrels, so very uncertain were they.
+
+Altogether, Sir DRURIOLANUS OPERATICUS, with his successful Drury Lane
+Race-course, his Provincial Theatre, his Italian Opera, his Paper (not
+_in_ the House, but his weekly one out of it), his Music-of-the-Future
+Hall, for which a temporary and limited licence has been granted,
+will--in a general-dealer kind of way--be having a good time of it
+till Pantomime Season slaps him on the back with a cheery "Here we are
+again!" and then he will have another and a better time. No doubt of
+Sir Gus's success, or in abbreviated proverbial Latin, "_De Gus. non
+disputandum_."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE HEIGHT OF EXCLUSIVENESS.
+
+_Miss Prunes._ "AH, DOCTOR, THESE HIGH SCHOOLS ARE SADLY MIXED! BUT,
+UNDER _MY_ CARE, I CAN ASSURE YOU THAT YOUR LITTLE WARD WILL ASSOCIATE
+WITH DAUGHTERS OF _GENTLEMEN ONLY_!"
+
+_The Doctor._ "THAT, MADAM, IS TO BE SELECT INDEED; SINCE I BELIEVE
+PALLAS ATHENE ALONE FULFILLED SUCH A CONDITION."
+
+(For pedigree of Pallas Athene vide Classical Dictionary--Art.
+"Minerva.")]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+COLUMBUS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ COLUMBUS! We read of him every day,
+ In books, pamphlets, magazines, papers;
+ Whilst Italy, Portugal, Spain, U.S.A.,
+ Cut constant, consecutive capers.
+
+ They started last month with reviews on the main;
+ On the land with processions--a quaint row.
+ Such the fêtes, aptly called by the French "_Fêtes de Gènes_,"
+ _Fait accompli_, good luck, _ça nous gêne trop!_
+
+ But never say die; now Huelva goes on,
+ New York follows, steady and sober,
+ And Chicago makes ready for more derned, dog gone
+ _Fêtes_ to last till, at least, next October!
+
+ COLUMBUS, your search for a sort of New Cut
+ Was meant for the best, we don't doubt it;
+ No harm in discovering Continents, but
+ You might have said nothing about it.
+
+ Still, had you not found a location for clam,
+ Canvas back, buckwheat cakes, we should sorter
+ Have missed the acquaintance of 'cute Uncle SAM,
+ And his fearless, free, fragile, fair daughter.
+
+ COLUMBUS! The newspapers never will drop
+ This subject; we wish, as months roll on,
+ Some common bacillus had put a full stop
+ Long ago to Don CHRISTOBAL COLON!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"ANECDOTAGE."
+
+_COMPANION PARAGRAPHS TO STORIES OF THE SAME KIND._
+
+SIR WALTER SCOTT was never so well pleased as when meeting a brother
+author. One day he passed by a gauger, who was so careless in
+his duties that the author of _Waverley_ was able to smuggle into
+Edinburgh some whiskey that was supposed never to have paid duty. On
+reaching Abbotsford, "the Wizard of the North" was informed that he
+had met one of the greatest poets of North Britain. "So I suspected,"
+he replied. "It must have been BURNS." Sir WALTER was right--it _was_
+BURNS.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+PITT, the younger, and FOX were both fond of port wine, and lost
+no opportunity of indulging in their favourite beverage. Meeting at
+CROCKFORD's one evening, PITT (being in straitened circumstances)
+proposed that they should play for a bottle of sherry. "No," said
+FOX, "if I must lose, I will lose in Claret!" and the rival Statesmen
+succumbed to intoxication.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+WILBERFORCE, the well-known philanthropist, was accustomed to visit
+the prisons. At Newgate one day he met a well-known forger, and asked
+him "What he was in for?" "For the same reason that you are out," was
+the smart, but uncourteous reply.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+NEW REGULATIONS FOR THE ENGLISH POLICE.
+
+(_FREELY ADAPTED FROM THE IRISH RULES._)
+
+[Illustration]
+
+1. Constables who are required to interfere in a street-row must have
+fourteen days' notice before they can be expected on the spot of the
+disturbance.
+
+2. Policemen will parade the streets from 12 A.M. to 4 P.M., but will
+make themselves scarce in the event of meeting a party procession, or
+noticing the holding of a public demonstration.
+
+3. Hyde Park, Trafalgar Square, and all other fashionable
+trysting-places, shall be considered without the sphere of Police
+influence at times of political excitement.
+
+4. Constables shall not congregate on land set apart for workmen's
+gatherings, except to organise strikes amongst themselves.
+
+5. The labours of the Police shall not commence before sunrise, or
+continue after sunset; and it will be left to the sagacity of
+the Public to guard their own property during the hours that the
+Constables are off duty.
+
+6. In the absence of the Civil Power, it will be considered contrary
+to professional etiquette for any respectable member of the criminal
+classes to carry on his unimpeded vocation.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE WHITE ELEPHANT.
+
+PRESENT PROPRIETOR (_loq._). "SEE HERE, GOVERNOR! HE'S A
+LIKELY-LOOKING ANIMAL,--BUT _I_ CAN'T MANAGE HIM! IF _YOU_ WON'T TAKE
+HIM, I MUST LET HIM GO!!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE GREAT UNKNOWN.
+
+ [The Rev. Dr. SMYTHE PALMER, of Trinity College, Dublin,
+ has just compiled a Book of Extracts, entitled _The Perfect
+ Gentleman_.]
+
+A Gentleman must be liberal, not to say lavish, to servants, porters,
+gamekeepers, and others, or he is "no gent." At the same time the
+Perfect Gentleman is never extravagant.
+
+He must not work. At the same time he must not be an idler.
+
+He is known by his scrupulous attention to the minutiæ of personal
+appearance, while "despising all outside show."
+
+The Perfect Gentleman "never wilfully hurts anybody." No soldier,
+doctor, or schoolmaster can, therefore, ever be a P.G.
+
+He is always perfectly open and frank. He is also sufficiently artful
+to conceal the fact that he considers the person he is talking to a
+mixture of a snob and a blockhead.
+
+When his favourite corn is trodden on by a weighty stranger, he never
+utters any expression stronger than "Dear me!"
+
+He never loses his temper.
+
+He must know how to treat everyone according to their rank and
+situation in life, but show special courtesy to those who are his
+inferiors.
+
+He must be well-born, although there are plenty of "Nature's
+Gentlemen" in the ranks of day-labourers.
+
+He must be sufficiently wealthy to keep up a good position, while
+recognising the fact that money has nothing to do with true gentility.
+
+He should also try and remember that no such jumble of contradictions
+as the Perfect Gentleman ever existed.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: HIS BEST "SOOT."
+
+_Short-tempered Gentleman in Black_ (_after violent collision with a
+Stonemason fresh from work_). "NOW, I'LL ARSK YOU JEST TO LOOK AT THE
+NARSTY BEASTLY MESS AS YOU'VE GONE AND MIDE ME IN! WHY, I'M SIMPLY
+SMOTHERED IN SOME 'ORRID WHITE STUFF!! WHY DON'T YER BE MORE
+CAREFUL!!!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+EPIGRAMMATICALLY PUT.--An Asylums Board Manager wrote to the _Times_
+to complain of Mr. LITTLER, M.P., Q.C.'s charges against the Asylums
+and Fever Hospitals management. "Which is right, or which is wrong,"
+to paraphrase _Mr. Mantalini's_ words, is no business just now of
+ours, but the writer of the reply to the attack, might have summed up
+by saying "that to _him_, Mr. LITTLER, whatever his Christian names
+might be, appeared as a _Be-Littler_."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"MR. GLADSTONE ON RENTS IN WALES."--What the Right Honble. Mr.
+G. omitted to say, when speaking on this subject, was that "but
+a comparatively small rent in Wales would be produced by
+Disestablishment, whenever that event should happen, and that this
+would soon be mended."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+TEMPERANCE RIDDLE.--Why is a man who is thoroughly good-natured and
+ever ready to oblige, likely to end as a confirmed drunkard? Because
+he is always _willing_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A USEFUL EXPERIENCE.
+
+ I awoke at one in the morning,
+ I had been two hours in bed,
+ When--bang!--without any warning
+ A joke came into my head.
+ 'Twas brilliant, awfully funny,
+ It flashed through my drowsy brain,
+ It was worth--oh, a lot of money!--
+ I chuckled again and again.
+
+ I thought how I might employ it,
+ I laughed till the tears rolled down,
+ Foreseeing how SMITH would enjoy it,
+ And how it would tickle BROWN.
+ I said, "I had best but hint it
+ To _them_, or they might purloin
+ This wonderful jest, then print it,
+ And between them divide the coin."
+
+ Late in the morn I awoke,--I
+ Puzzled with all my might
+ In vain to recall the joke I
+ Made in the silent night.
+ What _was_ it about? No dreamer
+ Am I! No--I think--I frown--
+ When next I make a screamer
+ In bed--_I will write it down_.
+
+ By the side of the bed a taper
+ Shall ever with matches be,
+ A pencil and piece of paper,
+ To note what occurs to me.
+ * * * * *
+ Since then I have tried, but the late joke,
+ As seen in my bedside scrawl,
+ Is always so poor,--that the great joke,
+ _I'm sure, was no joke at all!_
+
+ * * * * *
+
+YES OR NO?
+
+ ["The hand-writing of well-educated Ladies is often
+ disgracefully illegible."--_A Ladies' Journal_.]
+
+ Oh, never did lover in fable
+ In such a predicament stand,
+ A letter I wrote to my MABEL,
+ To ask for her heart and her hand,
+ With compliments worded so nicely,
+ A lifelong devotion I swore;
+ She's answered--and left me precisely
+ As wise as before!
+
+ It is true that I begged, when inditing
+ My note, a reply with all speed,
+ And MABEL, to judge from the writing,
+ Fulfilled my petition indeed!
+ The drift of this scrawl, so erratic,
+ I am wholly unable to guess--
+ It may be refusal emphatic,
+ Or can it be "Yes"?
+
+ "Affection" she'll feel for me "ever,"
+ But stay--if that blot is an "_n_"
+ It turns it at once into "never,"
+ Or is it a slip of the pen?
+ Her heart will a "truant (or true?) be,"
+ And what is the word just above?
+ It looks like--it cannot be--"booby"!
+ Perhaps it is "love."
+
+ A meeting must needs be awaited
+ To render these mysteries plain;
+ Perhaps in this letter she's stated
+ She never will see me again;
+ On one thing at least I've decided;--
+ Should she be my partner for life,
+ A type-writer shall be provided
+ For the use of my wife!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE GERMAN AND HORSE-TRYING RIDE.
+
+ ["Most of the horses were standing, but propping themselves
+ up against a wall or a post."--_Standard, Wednesday, October
+ 12th_.]
+
+ Pity the sorrows of a worn-out horse,
+ Whose trembling limbs support him 'gainst a wall;
+ Who asks you,--fearing future trials worse--
+ To kill him with a sudden shot,--that's all.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A CORRESPONDENT signing "INNOCENTIA DOCET," wants to know if "the Hub
+of the Universe" is an official appointment that can only be held by a
+Mahommedan or a Mormon?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+CONVERSATIONAL HINTS TO YOUNG SHOOTERS.
+
+(_BY MR. PUNCH'S OWN GROUSE IN THE GUN-ROOM._)
+
+And, next, my gallant young Sportsmen, just sharpen up your attention,
+and, if you have ears, prepare to lend them now. Be, in fact,
+all ears. At any rate, get yourselves as near as possible to that
+desirable condition, for we are going to discuss shooting-lunches, and
+all that pertains to them. Think of it! Are not some of your happiest
+memories, and your most delightful anticipations, bound up with
+the mid-day meal, at which the anxieties and disappointments of the
+morning, the birds you missed, the birds that, though they got up in
+front of you, were shot by your jealous neighbour, the wiped-eyes,
+the hands torn in the thorn-bushes, at which, as I say, all these
+are forgotten, when you lay aside your gun, and sit down to your
+short repose. Then it is that the talker shines supreme. All the
+conversation which may have been broken in upon during the morning by
+the necessity for posting yourself at the hot corner, or the grassy
+ride, or in the butt, or for polishing off a right and left of
+partridges, can then flow free and uninterrupted. Ah, happy moments,
+when the bad shot becomes as the good, and all distinctions are
+levelled! How well, how gratefully do I remember you! Still, in my
+waking fancies, there rises to my nose a savoury odour, telling of
+stew or hot-pot, and still the crisp succulence of the jam tartlet
+has honour in my memory. Ah, _tempi passati, tempi passati_! But away,
+fancy, and to our work, which is to speak of
+
+SHOOTING-LUNCHES
+
+in their relation to talk:--
+
+(1.) Be extremely careful, unless you know exactly the ways of your
+host with regard to his shooting-lunch, not to express to him before
+lunch any very definite opinion as to what the best kind of lunch
+is. If, for instance, you rashly declare that, for your own part, you
+detest a solemn sit-down-in-a-farmhouse lunch, and that your ideal
+is a sandwich, a biscuit and a nip out of a flask, and if you then
+find yourself lunching off three courses at a comfortable table, why
+you'll be in a bit of a hole. Consistency would prompt you to abstain,
+appetite urges you to eat. What is a poor talker to do? Obviously, he
+must get out somehow. Here is a suggested method. Begin by admiring
+the room.
+
+"By Jove, what a jolly little room this is. It's as spick and span as
+a model dairy. I wish you'd take me on as your tenant, CHALMERS, when
+you've got a vacancy."
+
+CHALMERS will say, "It's not a bad little hole. Old Mrs. NUBBLES keeps
+things wonderfully spruce. This is one of the cottages I built five
+years ago."
+
+There's your first move. Your next is as follows. Every rustic-cottage
+contains gruesome china-ornaments and excruciating-cheap German-prints
+of such subjects as "_The Tryst_" (always spelt "_The Trist_" on
+the German print), "_The Saylor's Return," "The Warior's Dreem_,"
+"_Napoleon at Arcola_," and so forth. Point to a china-ornament and
+say, "I never knew cows in this part of the country were blue and
+green." Then after you've exhausted the cow, milked her dry, so to
+speak, you can take a turn at the engravings, and make a sly hit at
+the taste in art generated by modern education. Hereupon, someone is
+dead certain to chime in with the veteran grumble about farmers who
+educate their children above their station by allowing their daughters
+to learn to play the piano, and their sons to acquire the rudiments
+of Latin: "Give you my word of honour, the farmers' daughters about
+my uncle's place, get their dresses made by my aunt's dressmaker, and
+thump out old WAGNER all day long." This horrible picture of rural
+depravity will cause an animated discussion. When it is over, you can
+say, "This is the very best Irish-stew I've ever tasted. I must get
+your cook to give me the receipt."
+
+"Ah, my boy," says CHALMERS, "you'll find there's nothing like a stew
+out shooting."
+
+"Of course," you say, "nothing can beat it, if you've got a nice room
+to eat it in, and aren't pressed for time; but, if you've got no end
+of ground to cover, and not much time to do it in, I can always manage
+to do myself on a scrap of anything handy. Thanks, I don't mind if I
+do have a chunk of cake, and a whitewash of sherry."
+
+Thus you have fetched a compass--I fancy the phrase is correct--and
+have wiped out the memory of your indiscretion. Of course the thing
+may happen the other way round. You may have expressed a preference
+for solid lunches, only to find yourself set down on a tuft of grass,
+with a beef sandwich and a digestive biscuit. In that case you can
+begin by declaring your delight in an open-air meal, go on to admire
+the scenery, and end by expressing a certain amount of judicious
+contempt for the Sybarite who cannot tear himself away from effeminate
+luxuries, and the trick's done.
+
+But this subject is so great, and has so many varieties, that we must
+recur to it in our next.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: IN THE RUE DE LA PAIX.
+
+_Hairdresser_. "SAY THEN, SARE ZAT YOU ARE RASÉ--SHAVE,--IS IT THAT I
+SHALL CUT YOU OFF YOUR 'AIR?"
+
+_Mr. Brown_ (_an old-fashioned Englishman, on his first Visit
+to Paris--startled_). "HEY! WHAT! CUT MY HAIR OFF! NONG,
+MOSSOO--COMPRENNY?--NONG! DO YOU THINK I WANT TO LOOK LIKE ONE OF YOUR
+FRENCH POODLES?"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+TO OUR GUERNSEY CORRESPONDENTS.
+
+MR. PUNCH is sorry to find that his fancy sketch of a Guernsey Car
+drive has been taken so seriously in some quarters as to give pain and
+offence which were very far from being intended. He begs to assure the
+honourable fraternity of Car-proprietors and drivers in the island,
+that he did _not_ mean to suggest for a moment that there was the
+slightest real danger to the public who patronise those highly popular
+and excellently-conducted vehicles, or that any actual driver was
+either intemperate or incompetent; and that, should such an impression
+have been unfortunately produced--which he hopes is impossible--no one
+would regret so unjust an aspersion more sincerely than _Mr. Punch_
+himself.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE GOLFER'S DREAM.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS.
+
+_Mount Street, Grosvenor Square._
+
+DEAR MR. PUNCH,--Your marvellous judgment in the selection of your
+"staff"--(I believe that is the correct term to use in speaking
+of those who write for the paper, though as a rule a staff is
+_wooden-headed_, which I am sure none of your contributors are!--I
+can answer for _one_!)--has again placed you in the position
+envied of all Journals, viz.,--(_why_ do people put "viz.," and
+not "namely"?--it _is_ silly!) that of affording "information"
+given by no other Journal! All of which preamble means,--(by
+the way, why "pre-_amble_"?--if one is a speedy writer, why not
+"pre-_canter_"?)--that _Punch_, in the person of LADY GAY--(that _may_
+seem a little mixed, but it isn't)--was the _only_ Sporting Paper
+which tipped the winner of the Cesarewitch!
+
+For confirmation of this I refer the sceptical to my last week's
+letter, in which I stated that in dreaming of the race I dreamt that
+"_Burnaby came to the rescue_"--and if this is not giving the winner,
+I should like to know what is! It is true I made _Brandy_ my "verse
+selection," but that would only mislead the people who go no further
+than the surface (not of the brandy), as anyone who gave the matter a
+moment's thought would realise that Brandy is always applied _after_
+a rescue! I hear there was a "ton of money" for the winner just before
+the start, but I did not see anyone carrying it about, so I suppose it
+was what they call "covering money," which, I presume, is covered over
+for safety, as it would be risky to walk about a race-course with a
+ton of loose money--not that I suppose anyone who goes racing would
+touch it, but it _might_ be lost! Anyhow, there was a ton of money
+for the winner _after_ the race, which his owner _had_ to take,
+willy-nilly, or HOBSON's choice!
+
+The pleasantest feature of the meeting, however, was the re-appearance
+of H.R.H. the Prince of WALES, which was also pleasantly marked by one
+of his horses winning a race! The Public having anxiously "watched"
+for H.R.H., the success of _The Vigil_ was received with enthusiasm!
+
+Next week takes us to Gatwick and Sandown--(or rather the _train_
+takes us--another absurd expression)--the last day of the latter
+Meeting being devoted to "Jumping Races," which is the contemptuous
+way some people speak of the winter branch of our National
+Sport!--forgetting that it demands the two most desirable qualities
+in a horse, _speed and endurance_--whereas the modern flat-racing
+has degenerated, for the most part, into scrambles and gambles, where
+_speed_ is the only requisite!--but more of this anon--but _not_
+anonymous, as I believe in signed articles, as the apprentice said!
+(_Not_ BRADFORD!)
+
+The most important race at Gatwick--(_delightful_ place to go
+racing--lots of room to move about in)--is the Thousand Pound
+Handicap, in which race _Brandy_ is worth keeping an eye on, as she
+ought to beat _Burnaby_ at the difference in the weights--other horses
+that might make their mark during the week--(especially now the ground
+is soft)--are, _Pilot, Golden Garter_--(_I_ never was guilty of
+such extravagance as that)--_Queen of Navarre_--(_she_ might have
+been)--_Meadow Brown_, _Terror_, and _Seawall_, the last three in the
+"Jumping Races"--and, in conclusion, the inevitable rhythmical winner,
+from
+
+Yours devotedly, LADY GAY.
+
+ORLEANS NURSERY SELECTION.
+
+ The man who would back any other
+ Appears but a gander to be,
+ For the horse that all comers will smother
+ Is certainly _Tanderagee_!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: DIGNITY AND IMPUDENCE.
+
+"I SAY, GUV'NER! WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO BE TOOK DOWN FOR HALTERATIONS
+AND REPAIRS?"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+MY SEASON TICKET.
+
+ Ever against my breast,
+ Safe in my pocket pressed,
+ Ready at my behest,
+ Daintily pretty
+ Gilt-printed piece of leather,
+ Though fair or foul the weather,
+ Daily we go together
+ Up to the City.
+ Yet, as I ride at ease,
+ Papers strewn on my knees,
+ And I hear "Seasons, please!"
+ Shouted in warning:
+ Pockets I search in vain
+ All through and through again;
+ "Pray do not stop the train--
+ Lost it this morning.
+ No, I have not a card,
+ Nor can I pay you, Guard--
+ Truly my lot is hard,
+ This is the reason,
+ Now I recall to mind
+ Changing my clothes, I find
+ I left them all behind,--
+ Money, cards, 'Season.'"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+WRITTEN A HUNDRED YEARS HENCE.
+
+(_FROM A COLLECTION OF COMMUNICATIONS SUPPLIED BY OUR PROPHETIC
+COMPILER._)
+
+DEAR MR. PUNCH,--Pray protect the Griffin! Those Goths and Vandals,
+the Members of the Corporation of the City of London, will remove it,
+unless you intervene. This beautiful work of Art, that stands on the
+supposed site of the mythical Temple Bar, is to come down. What would
+our ancestors say if they were here? Would they not frown at their
+degenerate descendants? Every student of history knows that this
+Griffin was put up by universal consent, and considered one of the
+finest works of art of the nineteenth century. As, indeed, it was.
+It is full of historic memories. It was here that WELLINGTON met
+NAPOLEON after Waterloo; and here, again, was the Volunteer Movement
+inaugurated, when Mr. Alderman WAT TYLER, putting himself at the
+head of the citizens, called for "Three cheers for the Charter and
+the Anti-Corn-Law League!" The beautiful bas-reliefs that used to
+represent the occasions have disappeared, but their subjects are
+tenderly cherished. If the Corporation _must_ pull down something, let
+them destroy the recently-erected Mansion House! but spare, oh spare,
+the Griffin!
+
+Yours truly, A STUDENT OF THE LORE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.
+
+_The Palace, Brixton_.
+
+DEAR MR. PUNCH,--It is time for a protest! One of the most beautiful
+erections of the nineteenth century (the old South Kensington Railway
+Station of the District Railway) is to be removed! Instead of the
+picturesque iron roof, we are to have some abomination in stone! Can
+this be? It is said to be falling to pieces under the ravages of Time.
+If this be really the case, why not let it be restored? There was no
+more picturesque outcome from the nineteenth century than these pretty
+arrangements in metal. The last generation swept them away by scores,
+by hundreds, by thousands--they did not even spare the Brompton
+Boilers! Let not such a reproach be applicable to us. We pride
+ourselves upon our love of Art and veneration for the antique and the
+beautiful, and yet we would pull down a building that for a century
+has been the admiration of all with a soul for Art and a mind for
+appreciating the sublimest efforts of genius in its highest sense!
+This must not be.
+
+_Burlington House_,
+
+Yours truly, A ROYAL ACADEMICIAN.
+
+_From_ 1 _to_ 1000, _Piccadilly._
+
+DEAR MR. PUNCH,--I have had the advantage of reading the above letters
+before publication, and am of opinion that they are not one whit
+more nonsensical than letters about the _Foudroyant_ and the Emmanuel
+Hospital that were printed early in the nineties. You may make what
+use you please of this communication.
+
+Yours respectfully, THE SPIRIT OF THE PAST.
+
+_The Earth (Branch Establishment, Mars and Jupiter)._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+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 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL.
+103, OCTOBER 22, 1892***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 15594-8.txt or 15594-8.zip *******
+
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 103,
+October 22, 1892, by Various, Edited by F. C. Burnand</h1>
+<pre>
+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 <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 103, October 22, 1892</p>
+<p>Author: Various</p>
+<p>Release Date: April 9, 2005 [eBook #15594]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 103, OCTOBER 22, 1892***</p>
+<br /><br /><h3>E-text prepared by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis,<br />
+ and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h3><br /><br />
+<hr class="full" />
+ <h1>PUNCH,<br />
+ OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1>
+
+ <h2>Vol. 103.</h2>
+ <hr class="full" />
+
+ <h2>October 22, 1892.</h2>
+ <hr class="full" />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page181"
+ id="page181"></a>[pg 181]</span>
+
+ <h3>IN MEMORIAM.</h3>
+
+ <h2>William Hardwick Bradbury.</h2>
+
+ <h3 class="sc">Born, Dec. 3, 1832. Died, Oct. 13, 1892.</h3>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Large-hearted man, most loyal friend,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Art thou too gone&mdash;too early
+ lost?</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Our comrade true, our tireless host!</p>
+
+ <p>Prompt to inspire, console, defend!</p>
+
+ <p>Gone! Hearts with grateful memories stored</p>
+
+ <p>Ache for thy loss round the old board.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>The well-loved board <i>he</i> loved so well,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">His pride, his care, his ceaseless
+ thought;</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">To him with life-long memories
+ fraught;</p>
+
+ <p>For him invested with the spell</p>
+
+ <p>O'er a glad present ever cast</p>
+
+ <p>By solemn shadows of the past.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>That past for him, indeed, was filled</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">With a proud spirit-retinue.</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Greatness long since his guest he
+ knew.</p>
+
+ <p>Whom THACKERAY's manly tones had thrilled;</p>
+
+ <p>Who heard keen JERROLD's sparkling speech,</p>
+
+ <p>And marked the genial grace of LEECH.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>What changes had he known, who sat</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">With our four chiefs, of each fast
+ friend!</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And must such <i>camaraderie</i> end?</p>
+
+ <p>Shall friendly counsel, cordial chat,</p>
+
+ <p>Come nevermore again to us</p>
+
+ <p>From lips with kindness tremulous?</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>No more shall those blue eyes ray out</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Swift sympathy, or sudden mirth;</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">That ever mobile mouth give birth</p>
+
+ <p>To frolic whim, or friendly flout?</p>
+
+ <p>Our hearts will miss thee to the end,</p>
+
+ <p>Amphitryon generous, faithful friend!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Miss thee? Alas! the void that's there</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">No other form may hope to fill,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">For those who now with sorrow thrill</p>
+
+ <p>In gazing on that vacant chair;</p>
+
+ <p>Whither it seems he <i>must</i> return,</p>
+
+ <p>For whose warm hand-clasp yet we yearn.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Tribute to genius all may give,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Ours is the homage of the heart;</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">For a friend lost our tears will
+ start,</p>
+
+ <p>Lost to our sight, yet who shall live,</p>
+
+ <p>Whilst one who knew that bold frank face</p>
+
+ <p>At the old board takes the old place.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>For those, his closer kin, whose home</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Is darkened by the shadow grey,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">What can respectful love but pray</p>
+
+ <p>That consolation thither come</p>
+
+ <p>In that most sacred soothing guise</p>
+
+ <p>Which natural sorrow sanctifies.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Bereavement's anguish to assuage</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Is a sore task that lies beyond</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">The scope of friendship or most fond</p>
+
+ <p>Affection's power. Yet may this page,</p>
+
+ <p>True witness of our love and grief,</p>
+
+ <p>To bowed hearts bring some scant relief!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h3>"ANECDOTAGE."</h3>
+
+ <h4><i>Companion Paragraph to Stories of the same
+ kind.</i></h4>
+
+ <p>CURRAN, the celebrated Irish Patriot, was a man of intense
+ wit and humour. On one occasion he was discussing with RICHARD
+ BRINSLEY SHERIDAN the possibility of combining the interests of
+ the two countries under one Crown. "It is a difficult matter to
+ arrange," observed the brilliant author of the <i>School for
+ Scandal</i>, "Right you are, darlint," acquiesced CURRAN, with
+ the least taste of a brogue. "But where are ye to find the
+ spalpeens for it? Ye may wake so poor a creature as a sow, but
+ it takes a real gintleman to raise the rint!" Then, with a
+ twinkle in his eyes, "But, for all that, ma cruiskeen, I'm not
+ meself at all at all!"</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>THE LAY OF A SUCCESSFUL ANGLER.</h2>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:50%;">
+ <a href="images/181.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/181.png"
+ alt="" /></a>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>The dainty artificial fly</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Designed to catch the wily trout,</p>
+
+ <p>Full loud <i>laudabunt alii</i>,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And I will join, at times, no doubt,</p>
+
+ <p>But yet my praise, without pretence,</p>
+
+ <p>Is not from great experience.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>I talk as well as anyone</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">About the different kinds of tackle,</p>
+
+ <p>I praise the Gnat, the Olive Dun,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Discuss the worth of wings and
+ hackle;</p>
+
+ <p>I've flies myself of each design,</p>
+
+ <p>No book is better filled than mine.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>But when I reach the river's side</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Alone, for none of these I wish.</p>
+
+ <p>No victim to a foolish pride.</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">My object is to capture fish;</p>
+
+ <p>Let me confess, then, since you ask it&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>A worm it is which fills my basket!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>O brown, unlovely, wriggling worm,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">On which with scorn the haughty look,</p>
+
+ <p>It is thy fascinating squirm</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Which brings the fattest trout to
+ book,</p>
+
+ <p>From thee unable to refrain,</p>
+
+ <p>Though flies are cast for him in vain!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Deep gratitude to thee I feel,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And then, perhaps, it's chiefly keen,</p>
+
+ <p>When rival anglers view my creel,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And straightway turn a jealous green;</p>
+
+ <p>And, should they ask me&mdash;"What's your fly?"</p>
+
+ <p>"A fancy pattern," I reply!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>SWORD AND PEN;</h2>
+
+ <h3 class="sc">Or, The Rival Commanders.</h3>
+
+ <h4>(<i>Extract from a Military Story of the near
+ Future.</i>)</h4>
+
+ <p>Captain Pipeclay was perplexed when his Company refused to
+ obey him. He was considered a fairly good soldier, but not up
+ to date. He might know his drill, he might have read his
+ <i>Queen's Regulations</i>, but he had vague ideas of the power
+ of the Press.</p>
+
+ <p>"You see, Sir," remonstrated his Colour-Sergeant; "if the
+ rear rank think they should stand fast when you give the
+ command 'Open order!' it is only a matter of opinion. You may
+ be right, or you may be wrong. Speaking for myself, I am
+ inclined to fancy that the men are making a mistake; but you
+ can't always consider yourself omniscient."</p>
+
+ <p>"Sergeant," returned the officer, harshly; "it is not the
+ business of men to argue, but to obey."</p>
+
+ <p>"Pardon me again, Sir, but isn't that slightly
+ old-fashioned? I know that theoretically you have reason on
+ your side; but then in these days of the latter end of the
+ nineteenth century, we must not he bound too tightly to
+ precedent."</p>
+
+ <p>The Captain bit his moustache for the fourth time, and then
+ again gave the order. But there was no response. The Company
+ moved not a muscle.</p>
+
+ <p>"This is mutiny!" cried the officer. "I will break everyone
+ of you. I will put you all in the cells; and in the orderly
+ room to-morrow morning, we will soon see if there is such a
+ thing as discipline."</p>
+
+ <p>"Discipline!" repeated the Sergeant. "Beg your pardon, Sir,
+ but I don't think the men understand what you mean. The word is
+ not to be found in the most recent dictionaries."</p>
+
+ <p>And certainly things seemed to be reaching a climax, for
+ however much the Commander might shout, not one of the rank and
+ file stirred an inch. It was at this moment that a cloaked
+ figure approached the parade-ground. The new-comer strode about
+ with a bearing that suggested one accustomed to receive
+ obedience.</p>
+
+ <p>"What is the matter?" asked the Disguised One.</p>
+
+ <p>"I can't get my men to obey me," explained the Captain. "I
+ have been desiring them to take open order for the last ten
+ minutes, and they remain as they were."</p>
+
+ <p>"What have they to say in their defence?" was the inquiry of
+ the Man in the Cloak.</p>
+
+ <p>"He won't let us write to the newspapers!" was heard from
+ the ranks.</p>
+
+ <p>"Is this really so?" asked the new-comer, in a tone more of
+ sorrow than of anger.</p>
+
+ <p>"Well, Sir," returned the Captain, "as it is a rule of the
+ Service that no communications shall be sent to the Press, I
+ thought that&mdash;"</p>
+
+ <p>"You had no right to think, Sir!" was the sharp reply. "Are
+ you so ignorant that you do not know that it is a birth-right
+ of a true-born Briton to air his opinions in the organs of
+ publicity? You will allow the men to go to their quarters at
+ once, that they may state their grievances on paper. They are
+ at perfect liberty to write what they please, and they may rest
+ assured that their communications will escape the grave of the
+ waste-paper basket."</p>
+
+ <p>Thus encouraged, the Company dismissed without further word
+ of command.</p>
+
+ <p>"And who may you be?" asked the Captain, with some
+ bitterness. "Are you the Commander-in-Chief?"</p>
+
+ <p>"I am one infinitely more powerful," was the reply. And then
+ the speaker threw off his disguise-cloak, and appeared in
+ morning-dress. "Behold in me the Editor of an influential
+ Journal!"</p>
+
+ <p>A week later the Captain had sent in his papers, and every
+ man in the Company he had once commanded wore the stripe of a
+ Lance Corporal. And thus was the power of the Press once again
+ sufficiently vindicated.</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page182"
+ id="page182"></a>[pg 182]</span>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:100%;">
+ <h2>THE BATTLE OF THE BARDS; OR, THE LISTS FOR THE
+ LAURELS.</h2><a href="images/182.png"><img width="70%"
+ src="images/182.png"
+ alt="THE BATTLE OF THE BARDS; OR, THE LISTS FOR THE LAURELS." />
+ </a>
+ </div>
+
+ <h3 class="sc">Proem.</h3>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p><i>Tan-ta-ra-ra-ra-ra!</i> The trumpets blare!</p>
+
+ <p>The rival Bards, wild-eyed, with windblown hair,</p>
+
+ <p>And close-hugged harps, advance with fire-winged
+ feet</p>
+
+ <p>For the green Laureate Laurels to compete;</p>
+
+ <p>The laurels vacant from the brows of him</p>
+
+ <p>In whose fine light all lesser lustres dim.</p>
+
+ <p>Tourney of Troubadours! The laurels lie</p>
+
+ <p>On crimson velvet cushion couched on high,</p>
+
+ <p>Whilst <i>Punch</i>, Lord-Warden of his country's
+ fame,</p>
+
+ <p>Attends the strains to hear, the victor-bard to
+ name.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>And first advances, as by right supreme,</p>
+
+ <p>With frosted locks adrift, and eyes a-dream,</p>
+
+ <p>With quick short footfalls, and an arm a-swing,</p>
+
+ <p>As to some cosmic rhythm heard to ring</p>
+
+ <p>From Putney to Parnassus, a brief bard.</p>
+
+ <p>(In stature, <i>not</i> in song!) Though
+ passion-scarred,</p>
+
+ <p>Porphyrogenitus at least he looks;</p>
+
+ <p>Haughty as one who rivalry scarce brooks;</p>
+
+ <p>Unreminiscent now of youthful rage,</p>
+
+ <p>Almost "respectable," and well-nigh sage,</p>
+
+ <p>Dame GRUNDY owns her once redoubted foe,</p>
+
+ <p>Whose polished paganry's erotic flow,</p>
+
+ <p>And red anarchic wrath 'gainst priests, and
+ kings,</p>
+
+ <p>The virtues, and most other "proper" things,</p>
+
+ <p>Once drew her frown where now her smile's
+ bestowed.</p>
+
+ <p>Such is the power of timely
+ palinode!</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page183"
+ id="page183"></a>[pg 183]</span>
+
+ <p>Soft twanged his lyre and loud his voice
+ outrang,</p>
+
+ <p>As the first Bard this moving measure
+ sang:&mdash;</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <h3>ON THE BAYS.</h3>
+
+ <center>
+ (<i>To the tune&mdash;more or less&mdash;of "In the
+ Bay."</i>)
+ </center>
+
+ <h4>I.</h4>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Beyond the bellowing onset of base war,</p>
+
+ <p>Their latest wearer wendeth! With wild zest.</p>
+
+ <p>Fulfilled of windy resonance, the rest</p>
+
+ <p>Of the bard-mob must hotly joust and jar</p>
+
+ <p>To win the wreath that he beyond the bar</p>
+
+ <p>Bare not away athwart the bland sea's breast.</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <h4>II.</h4>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>And sooth the soft sheen of that deathless bay</p>
+
+ <p>Gleams glamorous! Amorous was I in my day,</p>
+
+ <p>Clamorous were Gath's goose-critics. But my
+ fire,</p>
+
+ <p>Chastened from To-phet-fumes, burns purer,
+ higher;</p>
+
+ <p>My thoughts on courtier-wings <i>might</i> make
+ their way</p>
+
+ <p>Did my brow bear the laurels all these desire.</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <h4>III.</h4>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>For I, to the proprieties reconciled.</p>
+
+ <p>Who hymned Dolores, sing the "weanling child."</p>
+
+ <p>At "home-made treacle" I made mocking mirth;</p>
+
+ <p>That was before my better self had birth.</p>
+
+ <p>At virtue's lilies and languors then I smiled,</p>
+
+ <p>But Hertha's <i>not</i> thine only goddess, O
+ Earth!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <h4>IV.</h4>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>For surely brother, and master, and lord, and
+ king,</p>
+
+ <p>Though vice's roses and raptures did not spring</p>
+
+ <p>In thy poetic garden's trim parterre;</p>
+
+ <p>Though thou wert fond of sunshine and sweet air,</p>
+
+ <p>More than of kisses, that burn, and bite, and
+ sting;</p>
+
+ <p>Some living love our England for thee bare.</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <h4>V.</h4>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Thou, too, couldst sing about her sweet salt
+ sea,</p>
+
+ <p>And trumpet pæans loud to Liberty,</p>
+
+ <p>With clamour of all applausive throats. Thy
+ feet,</p>
+
+ <p>Not wine-press red, yet left the flowers more
+ sweet,</p>
+
+ <p>From the pure passage of the god to be;</p>
+
+ <p>And then couldst thunder praises of England's
+ Fleet.</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <h4>VI.</h4>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>I did not think to glorify gods and kings,</p>
+
+ <p>Who scourged them ever with hate's sanguineous
+ rods;</p>
+
+ <p>But who with hope and faith may live at odds?</p>
+
+ <p>And then these jingling jays with plume-plucked
+ wings,</p>
+
+ <p>Compete, and laureate laurels <i>are</i> lovely
+ things,</p>
+
+ <p>Though crowing lyric lauders of kings and gods!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Beshrew the blatant bleating of sheep-voiced
+ mimes!</p>
+
+ <p>True thunder shall strike dumb their chirping
+ chimes.</p>
+
+ <p>If there <i>be</i> laureate laurels, or bays, or
+ palms,</p>
+
+ <p>In these red, Radical, revelling, riotous times,</p>
+
+ <p>They should be the true bard's, though mid-age
+ calms</p>
+
+ <p>His revolutionary fierce rolling rhymes,</p>
+
+ <p>Fulfilled with clamour and clangour and storm
+ of&mdash;psalms</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>That great lyre's golden echoes rolled away!</p>
+
+ <p>Forth tripped another claimant of the bay.</p>
+
+ <p>Trim, tittivated, tintinnabulant,</p>
+
+ <p>His bosom aped the true Parnassian pant,</p>
+
+ <p>As may a housemaid's leathern bellows mock</p>
+
+ <p>The rock&mdash;whelmed Titan's breathings. He no
+ shock</p>
+
+ <p>Of bard-like shagginess shook to the breeze.</p>
+
+ <p>A modern Cambrian Minstrel hopes to please</p>
+
+ <p>By undishevelled dandy-daintiness,</p>
+
+ <p>Whether of lays or locks, of rhymes or dress.</p>
+
+ <p>Some bards pipe from Parnassus, some from
+ Hermon;</p>
+
+ <p>Room for the singer of the Sunday Sermon!</p>
+
+ <p>His stimulant tepid tea, his theme a text,</p>
+
+ <p>Carmarthen's cultured caroller comes next!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <h3>THE WORTH OF VERSE.</h3>
+
+ <center>
+ AIR&mdash;"<i>The Birth of Verse</i>."
+ </center>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Wild thoughts which occupy the brain,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Vague prophecies which fill the ear,</p>
+
+ <p>Dim perturbation, precious pain,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">A gleam of hope, a chill of
+ fear,&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>These vex the poet's spirit. Moral:&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>Have a shy at the Laureate Laurel!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Some say no definite thought there is</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">In my full flatulence of sound.</p>
+
+ <p>Let National Observers quiz</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">(H-NL-Y won't have it. I'll be
+ bound!)</p>
+
+ <p>Envy! <i>O trumpery, O MORRIS!</i></p>
+
+ <p>Could JUVENAL jealous be of HORACE?</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>I know the chambers of my soul</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Are filled with laudatory airs,</p>
+
+ <p>Such as the salaried bard should troll</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">When he the Laureate laurels wears.</p>
+
+ <p>And I am he who opened Hades,</p>
+
+ <p>To harmless parsons and to ladies!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>For I <i>can</i> "moralise my song"</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">More palpably than Mr. POPE;</p>
+
+ <p>And I can touch the toiling throng:</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">There is small doubt of <i>that</i>, I
+ hope.</p>
+
+ <p>I've piped for him who ploughs the furrows,</p>
+
+ <p>And stood for the Carmarthen Boroughs.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>I mayn't be strong, inspired, complete,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">But on the Liberal goose I'm sound.</p>
+
+ <p>And I can count my (rhythmic) feet</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">With any Pegasus around.</p>
+
+ <p>I witch all women, and some men,</p>
+
+ <p>GLADSTONE I've drawn, and written "<i>Gwen</i>."</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>If these be not sufficient claims,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">The worth of Verse is vastly small.</p>
+
+ <p>I've called him various pretty names,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">The honoured Master of us all;</p>
+
+ <p>"His place is with the Immortals." Yes!</p>
+
+ <p>But I could fill it <i>here</i>, I guess!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>His "chaste white Muse" could not object,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">For mine is white, and awfully
+ chaste.</p>
+
+ <p>Now ALGERNON has no respect</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">For purity and public taste.</p>
+
+ <p>EDWIN is given to allegory.</p>
+
+ <p>Whilst ALFRED is a wicked Tory!!!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>He ceased. Great PUNCHIUS rubbed his eagle beak.</p>
+
+ <p>And said, "I think we'll take the rest next
+ week!"</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:70%;">
+ <a href="images/183.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/183.png"
+ alt="Experienced Sportsman and Inexperienced Fred." />
+ </a><i>Experienced Sportsman</i> (<i>on Pony</i>).
+ "WELL&mdash;HAD GOOD SPORT, FRED, OLD BOY?"
+
+ <p><i>Inexperienced Fred</i>. "NOT EXACTLY
+ 'GOOD,'&mdash;BUT I THINK I'VE LET OFF ABOUT A HUNDRED
+ CARTRIDGES."</p>
+
+ <p><i>Experienced Sportsman</i>. "NOT SO BAD. S'POSE YOU
+ MUST HAVE 'LET OFF' AN EQUAL NUMBER OF PARTRIDGES!"</p>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page184"
+ id="page184"></a>[pg 184]</span>
+
+ <h2>IN A GHOST-SHOW.</h2>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p><i>Warlock's "Celebrated Ghost-Exhibition and Deceptio
+ Visus" has pitched its tent for the night on a Village
+ Green, and the thrilling Drama of "Maria Martin, or, The
+ Murder in the Red Barn, in three long Acts, with unrivalled
+ Spectral Effects and Illusions," is about to begin. The
+ Dramatis Personæ are on the platform outside; the
+ venerable</i> Mr. MARTIN <i>is exhorting the crowd to step
+ up and witness his domestic tragedy, while the injured</i>
+ MARIA, <i>is taking the twopences at the door</i>; WILLIAM
+ CORDER <i>is finishing a pipe, and two of the Angelic
+ Visions are dancing, in blue velveteen and silver braid, to
+ the appropriate air of "The Bogie Man."</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <h3 class="sc">Inside.</h3>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p><i>The front benches are occupied by Rustic Youths, who
+ beguile the tedium of waiting by smoking short clays, and
+ trying to pull off one another's caps.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>First Youth</i> (<i>examining the decorative
+ Shakspearian panels on the proscenium.</i>) They three old
+ wimmin be a-pokin' o' that old nipper, 'ooever he be.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>The "old nipper" in question is, of course,</i>
+ MACBETH.</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>Second Youth.</i> Luk up at that 'un tother
+ side&mdash;it's a Gineral's gho-ast a-frightenin' th'
+ undertaker (<i>A subject from "Hamlet"</i>) They've gi'en
+ over dancin' outside&mdash;they'll be beginning soon.
+ (<i>The company descend the steps, and pass behind the
+ scenes.</i>) We shall see proper 'ere, we shall.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>The Curtain draws up, and reveals a small stage,
+ with an inclined sheet of glass in a heavy frame in front;
+ behind this glass is the Cottage Home of</i> MARIA
+ MARTIN.</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>Maria</i> (<i>coming out of Cottage, and speaking in
+ an inaudible tone</i>). At last&mdash;WILLIAM
+ CORDER&mdash;to make me his wife&mdash;I know not
+ why&mdash;strange misgiving 'as come over me.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:40%;">
+ <a href="images/184.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/184.png"
+ alt="'They catch one another's wrists, and walk up and down together.'" />
+ </a>"They catch one another's wrists, and walk up and down
+ together."
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>She is unfeelingly requested to speak up.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>William Corder</i> (<i>whose villany is suggested at
+ once by his wearing a heavy silver double watch-chain, with
+ two coins appended, and no neck-tie&mdash;enters left</i>).
+ Yes, MARIA, as I have promised, I will take you to London,
+ and make you my wife&mdash;but first meet me in disguise
+ to-night, and in secret, at the Red Barn.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[MARIA <i>is understood to demur, but finally agrees to
+ the rendezvous, and retires into the Cottage.</i> Old Mr.
+ MARTIN <i>comes out in a black frock-coat, and a white
+ waistcoat&mdash;he has no neck-tie either, but the
+ omission, in his case, merely suggests a virtuous economy.
+ He feebly objects to</i> MARIA <i>being married in London,
+ but admits that, "Perhaps he has no right to interfere
+ with</i> WILLIAM's <i>arrangements," and goes indoors
+ again.</i> WILLIAM <i>retires, and the scene changes to a
+ 'very small street, which is presently invaded by a very
+ large Comic Countryman, called</i> "TIM," <i>who is engaged
+ to</i> MARIA's <i>sister</i> NANNY.</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>Tim</i>. They tell I, as how the streets o' Lunnon be
+ paved wi' gold, and I be goin' 'oop to make ma fortune, I
+ be.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[NANNY <i>comes in and bribes him to remain by the
+ promise of "cold pudden with plenty of gravy." Comic
+ business, during which every reference to "cold pudden"
+ (and there are several) is received with roars of
+ laughter</i>. WILLIAM CORDER, <i>on the ingenious plea that
+ he wishes to take some flowers up to London, borrows a
+ spade and pickaxe from</i> TIM, <i>to whom it appears he
+ owes ninepence, which he promises&mdash;like the villain he
+ is&mdash;to repay "the very next time he sees him in
+ Church."</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>William</i> (<i>going off with a flourish and a
+ Shakspearian couplet</i>).</p>
+
+ <p class="i4">My <i>mind's</i> made up. Hence <i>all</i>
+ thoughts <i>that</i> are good!</p>
+
+ <p class="i4">Crimes <i>once</i> commenced, <i>Must</i>.
+ End in&mdash;blood! [<i>Act drop.</i></p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>A Female Spect.</i> They don't seem in no 'urry to
+ come to th' Gho-ast part, seemin'ly.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Her Swain.</i> Ye wudn't have 'em do th' Gho-ast
+ afoor th' Murder, wud ye?</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>ACT II.&mdash;<i>The interior of the Red Barn</i>.
+ WILLIAM <i>discovered digging</i> MARIA's <i>grave in his
+ shirt-sleeves, and thereby revealing that his shirt-front
+ is as false as his heart. He announces that "Nothing can
+ shake him, now, from his pre-determined purpose," and that
+ "the grave gapes for its coming victim."</i></p>
+
+ <p><i>Enter</i> MARIA, <i>disguised in a brown bowler hat
+ and a very tight suit of tweed "dittoes," in which she
+ looks very like the "Male Impersonator" at a Music-hall.
+ The Audience receive her with derision and the
+ recommendation to go and get her hair cut.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>Maria</i>. Here am I in disguise at the Red Barn. And
+ yet something seems to whisper to me that danger is near.
+ WILLIAM, where, <i>where</i> are you?</p>
+
+ <p><i>William</i> (<i>coming out of a corner</i>). 'Ere,
+ MARIA, 'ere! (<i>Aside.</i>) Now to 'url my victim to an
+ early grave! (<i>Aloud.</i>) 'Ave you obeyed my
+ instructions and avoided notice?</p>
+
+ <p><i>Maria</i>. I have. Whenever I saw anyone approaching,
+ I hid behind a hedge and ducked in the ditch.</p>
+
+ <p><i>William</i> (<i>with sombre approval</i>). That was
+ most discreet on your part, MARIA. No one saw you come in,
+ and no one will ever see you go out. Be'old your open
+ grave!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>After some pleading from</i> MARIA, <i>a desperate
+ struggle takes place&mdash;that is, they catch one
+ another's wrists, and walk up and down together.</i> MARIA
+ <i>calls upon her Mother's spirit, whereupon a very
+ youthful Angel is seen floating above the couple.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>The Female S.</i> (<i>triumphantly</i>). Theer
+ now&mdash;theer ain't bin no murder yet, and theer's th'
+ Gho-ast sure enough!</p>
+
+ <p><i>Swain</i> (<i>who is not going to own that he is
+ mistaken</i>). That ain't naw Gho-ast!</p>
+
+ <p><i>Female S.</i> What is it, then?</p>
+
+ <p><i>Swain.</i> Why, it's the "De-cep-ti-o Vissus," as was
+ wrote up outside.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>The Guardian Angel vanishes;</i> WILLIAM <i>gets a
+ spade, and aims at</i> MARIA, <i>who takes it away, and
+ strikes him; he is then reduced to the pick-axe, but she
+ wrests this from him too, and hits him in the face with it.
+ He pulls her coat off, and her hair down&mdash;but she
+ escapes from him a third time&mdash;on which he snatches up
+ a pistol, and fires it.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>William</i> (<i>with unreasonable surprise</i>).
+ Great Evans! What 'ave I done? I, am become a
+ <i>Murderer</i>! The shot 'as taken effect! See, she
+ staggers this way! (<i>Which</i> MARIA <i>does, to die
+ comfortably in</i> WILLIAM's <i>arms</i>.) I 'ave slain the
+ only woman who ever truly loved me; and I know not whether
+ I loved her most while living, or hate her most now she's
+ dead! (<i>The Curtain falls, leaving</i> WILLIAM <i>with
+ this nice point still unsolved, and the Audience profoundly
+ unmoved by the tragedy, and evidently longing for more of
+ the Comic Countryman.</i>)</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>ACT III.&mdash;<i>Interior of</i> Old MARTIN's
+ <i>Cottage. He attempts to forget his anxiety about his
+ daughter&mdash;who he fears, with only too much reason, has
+ come to an untimely end&mdash;by going to sleep in a highly
+ uncomfortable position on a kitchen-chair. The Murder is
+ re-enacted in a vision, in dumb-show. The form of</i> MARIA
+ <i>appears in the tweed suit, and urges him to search for
+ her remains in the Red Barn.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>Old Martin</i> (<i>awaking</i>). I have 'ad a fearful
+ dream, and I am under the impression that MARIA has been
+ foully murdered in the Red Barn.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>He calls the Comic Countryman to help him "to
+ commence a thorough investigation"&mdash;which he does, in
+ a spirit of rollicking fun befitting the occasion, as the
+ Scene changes to the Red Barn.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>Old M.</i> (<i>finding the spade</i>). What's this? A
+ spade&mdash;and, by its appearance, it 'as recently been
+ used, for there are marks of blood upon it! I now begin to
+ be afraid my dream will come true.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>Roars of laughter when the Comic C. discovers the
+ body, and implores it to "say summat!" Change of Scene.</i>
+ WILLIAM CORDER <i>discovered At Home, in a long perspective
+ of pillars and curtains, ending in a lawn and
+ fountain.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>William</i> (<i>moodily</i>). 'Tis now exactly twelve
+ months since MARIA MARTIN was done to death by these 'ands.
+ Since then, I have married a young, rich, and beautiful
+ wife&mdash;and yet I am not 'appy.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>Enter</i> Old MARTIN, <i>who, by the simple method
+ of changing his hat and coat, has now become a Bow-street
+ Officer; he puts questions to</i> WILLIAM, <i>who at once
+ betrays himself, and</i>
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page185"
+ id="page185"></a>[pg 185]</span> <i>has to be searched.
+ As a pair of pistols exactly resembling one that was
+ left in the Red Barn, are found in his coat-tail
+ pockets; his guilt is conclusively proved, and he is led
+ away. The next Scene shows him in the Condemned Cell,
+ resolving to sleep away his few remaining hours on a
+ kitchen-chair. He has a vision of</i> MARIA <i>in
+ tweeds, who exhorts him to repent</i>. Old MARTIN,
+ <i>who is now either the Governor of the Gaol or the
+ Hangman, enters to conduct him to the scaffold, and on
+ the way he is met&mdash;to the joy of the
+ Audience&mdash;by the Comic, C., who duns him for the
+ ninepence</i>. WILLIAM <i>shakes his head solemnly,
+ points to the skies, and passes on. The</i> Comic C.
+ <i>then goes to sleep in a chair and has a vision on his
+ own account, in which he beholds the apotheosis of</i>
+ MARIA&mdash;<i>still in the suit of dittoes&mdash;and
+ piloted by a couple of obviously overweighted Angels;
+ and also the last moments of</i> WILLIAM CORDER, <i>who,
+ as he stands under an enlarged "Punch" gibbet,
+ pronounces the following impressive farewell before
+ disappearing through a trap</i>.</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Ye Youth, be warned by my Despair!</p>
+
+ <p>Avoid bad women, false as they are fair. (<i>This is
+ just a little hard on poor</i> MARIA
+ <i>by-the-way.</i>)</p>
+
+ <p>Be wise in time, if you would shun my fate,</p>
+
+ <p>For oh! how wretched is the man who's wise too
+ late!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>And with this the Drama comes to an end, and the</i>
+ Comic Countryman <i>begs the Audience to give the
+ performance a good word to their friends outside.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>BETWEEN THE ACTS; OR, THE DRAMA IN LIQUOR.</h2>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>SCENE&mdash;<i>Refreshment Saloon at a London Theatre. A
+ three-play bill forms the evening's entertainment. First
+ Act over. Enter</i> BROWN, JONES, <i>and</i> ROBINSON.</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>Brown</i>. Well, really a very pleasant little piece.
+ Quite amusing. Yes; I think I will have a cup of coffee or
+ a glass of lemonade. Too soon after dinner for anything
+ stronger.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Jones</i>. Yes, and really, after laughing so much,
+ one gets a thirst for what they call light refreshments. I
+ will have some ginger-beer.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Robinson</i>. Well, I think I will stick to
+ iced-water. You know the Americans are very fond of that.
+ They always take it at meal-times, and really after that
+ capital <i>équivoque</i> one feels quite satisfied.
+ (<i>They are served by the Bar Attendant.</i>) That was
+ really very funny, where he hides behind the door when she
+ is not looking.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>Laughs at the recollection.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>Brown</i>. And when the uncle sits down upon the
+ band-box and crushes the canary-cage! [<i>Chuckles.</i></p>
+
+ <p><i>Jones</i>. Most clever. But there goes the bell, and
+ the Curtain will be up directly. Rather clever, I am told.
+ The <i>Rose of Rouen</i>&mdash;it is founded on the life of
+ <i>Joan of Arc</i>. I am rather fond of these historical
+ studies.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Brown</i>. So am I. They are very interesting.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Robinson</i>. Do you think so? Well, so far as I am
+ concerned, I prefer Melodrama. Judging from the title,
+ <i>The Gory Hand</i> should be uncommonly good.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>Exeunt into Theatre. After a pause they return to
+ the Refreshment Room.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>Brown</i>. Well, it is very clever; but I confess it
+ beats me. (<i>To Bar Attendant.</i>) We will all take
+ soda-water. No, thanks, quite neat, and for these gentlemen
+ too.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Jones</i>. Well, I call it a most excellent
+ psychological study. However, wants a clear head to
+ understand it. (<i>Sips his soda-water.</i>) I don't see
+ how she can take the flag from the Bishop, and yet want to
+ marry the Englishman.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Robinson</i>. Ah, but that was before the vision. If
+ you think it over carefully, you will see it was natural
+ enough. Of course, you must allow for the spirit of the
+ period, and other surrounding circumstances.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Brown</i>. Are you going to stay for <i>The Gory
+ Hand</i>?</p>
+
+ <p><i>Jones</i>. Not I. I am tired of play-acting, and
+ think we have had enough of it.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Robinson</i>. Well, I think I shall look in. I am
+ rather fond of strong scenes, and it should be good, to
+ judge from the programme.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Jones</i>. Well, we will "sit out." It's rather
+ gruesome. Quite different from the other plays.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Robinson</i>. Well, I don't mind horrors&mdash;in
+ fact, like them. There goes the bell. So I am off. Wait
+ until I come back.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Brown</i>. That depends how long you are away. Ta,
+ ta!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>Exit</i> ROBINSON.</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>Jones</i>. Now, how a fellow can enjoy a piece like
+ that, I cannot understand. It is full of murders, from the
+ rise to the fall of the Curtain.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Brown</i>. Yes&mdash;but ROBINSON likes that sort of
+ thing. You will see by-and-by how the plot will affect him.
+ It is rather jumpy, especially at the end, when the severed
+ head tells the story of the murder to the assistant
+ executioner. I would not see it again on any account.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Jones</i>. No&mdash;it sent my Maiden Aunt in
+ hysterics. However, it has the merit of being short.
+ (<i>Applause.</i>) Ah, there it's over! Let's see how
+ ROBINSON likes it. That <i>tableau</i> at the end, of the
+ starving-coastguardsman expiring under the rack, is
+ perfectly awful! (<i>Enter</i> ROBINSON, <i>staggering
+ in.</i>) Why, my boy, what's the matter?</p>
+
+ <p><i>Brown</i>. You do look scared! Have something to
+ drink? That will set it all to-rights!</p>
+
+ <p><i>Robinson</i> (<i>with his eyes protruding from his
+ head, from horror</i>). Here, help! help! (<i>After a long
+ shudder.</i>) Brandy! Brandy I: Brandy!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>[<i>At all the places at the bar there is a general
+ demand for alcohol.</i></p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="drama">
+ <p><i>Brown</i>. Yes. IRVING was right; soda-water does
+ very well for SHAKSPEARE's histories, but when you come to
+ a piece like <i>The Bells</i>, you require supporting.
+ [<i>Curtain and moral.</i></p>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>"IN A WINTER (COVENT) GARDEN."</h2>
+
+ <p>That indefatigable Showman, Sir DRURIOLANUS, the Invincible
+ Knight, commenced his Winter Operatic Season on Monday, the
+ Tenth, at Covent Garden, so as to be well in advance of Signor
+ LAGO, who may now boast of having <i>La Donna</i>, Her Most
+ Gracious MAJESTY, for his patron.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Monday Night</i>.&mdash;The two RAVOGLIS in good form in
+ the <i>Orféo.</i> Likewise the Player of the Big Drum made more
+ than one big hit during the evening. "<i>Che farò</i>" was
+ re-demanded. "Tired of '<i>Faro</i>,'" quoth Mr.
+ WAGGSTAFF&mdash;"why not make it '<i>Whisto</i>,' or some other
+ game?" <i>Exit</i> WAGGY. The <i>Intermezzo</i> of
+ <i>Cavalleria Rusticana</i> of course encored enthusiastically.
+ "Signor CREMONNINI," quoth WAGG, returning, "is not half the
+ 'ninny' his name implies." And, indeed, from the moment he was
+ heard singing "in his ambush" (as the Irish boy in the Gallery
+ said of TOM HOHLER at the Dublin Theatre when he heard the
+ <i>Trovatore's</i> voice behind the scenes) before the rise of
+ the Curtain, everyone said, "This is the tenner for our
+ money."</p>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:50%;">
+ <a href="images/185.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/185.png"
+ alt="OPERATIC TACTICS." /></a>
+
+ <h4>OPERATIC TACTICS.</h4><i>Sir Druriolanus</i>. "I Say,
+ Bevignani, I think we've got the right pitch, eh?"
+ </div>
+
+ <p><i>Tuesday</i>.&mdash;The namesake of our own GEORGE
+ AUGUSTUS, Mlle. ROSITA SALA, made a real hit as <i>Leonora</i>
+ in <i>Il Trovatore</i>. "Handsome is as handsome does," and
+ Mlle. SALA didn't act as "handsome" as she looked. Another
+ "ninny" played to-night, namely GIANNINNI, all right vocally,
+ but not much dramatically. "<i>Il Balen</i>" was encored when
+ sung by a manly baritone with the feminine name of ANNA;
+ <i>i.e.</i>, Signor DE ANNA. He might advantageously alter
+ DE-ANNA to APOLLO, that is if he could be sure of looking the
+ part.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Wednesday</i>.&mdash;<i>Lohengrin</i>. MELBA as
+ <i>Elsa</i>. WAGGSTAFF tried to make his usual pun on the name
+ of <i>Ortruda</i>, but was "countered" by Young JUMPER who
+ protested that he had heard it before and never wanted to hear
+ it again. "I know what you're going to say," he exclaimed;
+ "it's something about '<i>aught ruder</i>!' I know!" "I've no
+ doubt you do," returned the defrauded WAGGY, sarcastically,
+ "for you're uncommonly like <i>Othello</i>, 'Rude am I in
+ speech'&mdash;only," added WAGGSTAFF, "<i>he</i> apologised for
+ it." Young JUMPER sniggered, his friends laughed, and the
+ incident terminated. The Chorus seemed to have become Wandering
+ Minstrels, so very uncertain were they.</p>
+
+ <p>Altogether, Sir DRURIOLANUS OPERATICUS, with his successful
+ Drury Lane Race-course, his Provincial Theatre, his Italian
+ Opera, his Paper (not <i>in</i> the House, but his weekly one
+ out of it), his Music-of-the-Future Hall, for which a temporary
+ and limited licence has been granted, will&mdash;in a
+ general-dealer kind of way&mdash;be having a good time of it
+ till Pantomime Season slaps him on the back with a cheery "Here
+ we are again!" and then he will have another and a better time.
+ No doubt of Sir Gus's success, or in abbreviated proverbial
+ Latin, "<i>De Gus. non disputandum</i>."</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page186"
+ id="page186"></a>[pg 186]</span>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:100%;">
+ <a href="images/186-1.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/186-1.png"
+ alt="THE HEIGHT OF EXCLUSIVENESS." /></a>
+
+ <h3>THE HEIGHT OF EXCLUSIVENESS.</h3>
+
+ <p><i>Miss Prunes.</i> "AH, DOCTOR, THESE HIGH SCHOOLS ARE
+ SADLY MIXED! BUT, UNDER <i>MY</i> CARE, I CAN ASSURE YOU
+ THAT YOUR LITTLE WARD WILL ASSOCIATE WITH DAUGHTERS OF
+ <i>GENTLEMEN ONLY</i>!"</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Doctor.</i> "THAT, MADAM, IS TO BE SELECT INDEED;
+ SINCE I BELIEVE PALLAS ATHENE ALONE FULFILLED SUCH A
+ CONDITION."</p>
+
+ <p class="author">[<i>For pedigree of Pallas Athene vide
+ Classical Dictionary&mdash;Art. "Minerva."</i></p>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>COLUMBUS.</h2>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:20%;">
+ <a href="images/186-2.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/186-2.png"
+ alt="" /></a>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>COLUMBUS! We read of him every day,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">In books, pamphlets, magazines,
+ papers;</p>
+
+ <p>Whilst Italy, Portugal, Spain, U.S.A.,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Cut constant, consecutive capers.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>They started last month with reviews on the
+ main;</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">On the land with processions&mdash;a
+ quaint row.</p>
+
+ <p>Such the fêtes, aptly called by the French "<i>Fêtes
+ de Gènes</i>,"</p>
+
+ <p class="i2"><i>Fait accompli</i>, good luck, <i>ça
+ nous gêne trop!</i></p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>But never say die; now Huelva goes on,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">New York follows, steady and sober,</p>
+
+ <p>And Chicago makes ready for more derned, dog
+ gone</p>
+
+ <p class="i2"><i>Fêtes</i> to last till, at least, next
+ October!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>COLUMBUS, your search for a sort of New Cut</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Was meant for the best, we don't doubt
+ it;</p>
+
+ <p>No harm in discovering Continents, but</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">You might have said nothing about it.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Still, had you not found a location for clam,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Canvas back, buckwheat cakes, we should
+ sorter</p>
+
+ <p>Have missed the acquaintance of 'cute Uncle SAM,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And his fearless, free, fragile, fair
+ daughter.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>COLUMBUS! The newspapers never will drop</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">This subject; we wish, as months roll
+ on,</p>
+
+ <p>Some common bacillus had put a full stop</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Long ago to Don CHRISTOBAL COLON!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h3>"ANECDOTAGE."</h3>
+
+ <h4><i>Companion Paragraphs to Stories of the same
+ kind.</i></h4>
+
+ <p>SIR WALTER SCOTT was never so well pleased as when meeting a
+ brother author. One day he passed by a gauger, who was so
+ careless in his duties that the author of <i>Waverley</i> was
+ able to smuggle into Edinburgh some whiskey that was supposed
+ never to have paid duty. On reaching Abbotsford, "the Wizard of
+ the North" was informed that he had met one of the greatest
+ poets of North Britain. "So I suspected," he replied. "It must
+ have been BURNS." Sir WALTER was right&mdash;it <i>was</i>
+ BURNS.</p>
+ <hr class="short" />
+
+ <p>PITT, the younger, and FOX were both fond of port wine, and
+ lost no opportunity of indulging in their favourite beverage.
+ Meeting at CROCKFORD's one evening, PITT (being in straitened
+ circumstances) proposed that they should play for a bottle of
+ sherry. "No," said FOX, "if I must lose, I will lose in
+ Claret!" and the rival Statesmen succumbed to intoxication.</p>
+ <hr class="short" />
+
+ <p>WILBERFORCE, the well-known philanthropist, was accustomed
+ to visit the prisons. At Newgate one day he met a well-known
+ forger, and asked him "What he was in for?" "For the same
+ reason that you are out," was the smart, but uncourteous
+ reply.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h3>NEW REGULATIONS FOR THE ENGLISH POLICE.</h3>
+
+ <h4>(<i>Freely Adapted from the Irish Rules.</i>)</h4>
+
+ <div class="figright"
+ style="width:15%;">
+ <a href="images/186-3.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/186-3.png"
+ alt="" /></a>
+ </div>
+
+ <p>1. Constables who are required to interfere in a street-row
+ must have fourteen days' notice before they can be expected on
+ the spot of the disturbance.</p>
+
+ <p>2. Policemen will parade the streets from 12 A.M. to 4 P.M.,
+ but will make themselves scarce in the event of meeting a party
+ procession, or noticing the holding of a public
+ demonstration.</p>
+
+ <p>3. Hyde Park, Trafalgar Square, and all other fashionable
+ trysting-places, shall be considered without the sphere of
+ Police influence at times of political excitement.</p>
+
+ <p>4. Constables shall not congregate on land set apart for
+ workmen's gatherings, except to organise strikes amongst
+ themselves.</p>
+
+ <p>5. The labours of the Police shall not commence before
+ sunrise, or continue after sunset; and it will be left to the
+ sagacity of the Public to guard their own property during the
+ hours that the Constables are off duty.</p>
+
+ <p>6. In the absence of the Civil Power, it will be considered
+ contrary to professional etiquette for any respectable member
+ of the criminal classes to carry on his unimpeded vocation.</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page187"
+ id="page187"></a>[pg 187]</span>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:100%;">
+ <a href="images/187.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/187.png"
+ alt="THE WHITE ELEPHANT." /></a>
+
+ <h3>THE WHITE ELEPHANT.</h3>PRESENT PROPRIETOR
+ (<i>loq.</i>). "SEE HERE, GOVERNOR! HE'S A LIKELY-LOOKING
+ ANIMAL,&mdash;BUT <i>I</i> CAN'T MANAGE HIM! IF <i>YOU</i>
+ WON'T TAKE HIM, I MUST LET HIM GO!!"
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page189"
+ id="page189"></a>[pg 189]</span>
+
+ <h2>THE GREAT UNKNOWN.</h2>
+
+ <blockquote class="note">
+ <p>[The Rev. Dr. SMYTHE PALMER, of Trinity College, Dublin,
+ has just compiled a Book of Extracts, entitled <i>The
+ Perfect Gentleman</i>.]</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <p>A Gentleman must be liberal, not to say lavish, to servants,
+ porters, gamekeepers, and others, or he is "no gent." At the
+ same time the Perfect Gentleman is never extravagant.</p>
+
+ <p>He must not work. At the same time he must not be an
+ idler.</p>
+
+ <p>He is known by his scrupulous attention to the minutiæ of
+ personal appearance, while "despising all outside show."</p>
+
+ <p>The Perfect Gentleman "never wilfully hurts anybody." No
+ soldier, doctor, or schoolmaster can, therefore, ever be a
+ P.G.</p>
+
+ <p>He is always perfectly open and frank. He is also
+ sufficiently artful to conceal the fact that he considers the
+ person he is talking to a mixture of a snob and a
+ blockhead.</p>
+
+ <p>When his favourite corn is trodden on by a weighty stranger,
+ he never utters any expression stronger than "Dear me!"</p>
+
+ <p>He never loses his temper.</p>
+
+ <p>He must know how to treat everyone according to their rank
+ and situation in life, but show special courtesy to those who
+ are his inferiors.</p>
+
+ <p>He must be well-born, although there are plenty of "Nature's
+ Gentlemen" in the ranks of day-labourers.</p>
+
+ <p>He must be sufficiently wealthy to keep up a good position,
+ while recognising the fact that money has nothing to do with
+ true gentility.</p>
+
+ <p>He should also try and remember that no such jumble of
+ contradictions as the Perfect Gentleman ever existed.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:60%;">
+ <a href="images/189.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/189.png"
+ alt="HIS BEST 'SOOT.'" /></a>
+
+ <h3>HIS BEST "SOOT."</h3>
+
+ <p><i>Short-tempered Gentleman in Black</i> (<i>after
+ violent collision with a Stonemason fresh from work</i>).
+ "NOW, I'LL ARSK YOU JEST TO LOOK AT THE NARSTY BEASTLY MESS
+ AS YOU'VE GONE AND MIDE ME IN! WHY, I'M SIMPLY SMOTHERED IN
+ SOME 'ORRID WHITE STUFF!! WHY DON'T YER BE MORE
+ CAREFUL!!!"</p>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>EPIGRAMMATICALLY PUT.&mdash;An Asylums Board Manager wrote
+ to the <i>Times</i> to complain of Mr. LITTLER, M.P., Q.C.'s
+ charges against the Asylums and Fever Hospitals management.
+ "Which is right, or which is wrong," to paraphrase <i>Mr.
+ Mantalini's</i> words, is no business just now of ours, but the
+ writer of the reply to the attack, might have summed up by
+ saying "that to <i>him</i>, Mr. LITTLER, whatever his Christian
+ names might be, appeared as a <i>Be-Littler</i>."</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>"MR. GLADSTONE ON RENTS IN WALES."&mdash;What the Right
+ Honble. Mr. G. omitted to say, when speaking on this subject,
+ was that "but a comparatively small rent in Wales would be
+ produced by Disestablishment, whenever that event should
+ happen, and that this would soon be mended."</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>TEMPERANCE RIDDLE.&mdash;Why is a man who is thoroughly
+ good-natured and ever ready to oblige, likely to end as a
+ confirmed drunkard? Because he is always <i>willing</i>.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>A USEFUL EXPERIENCE.</h2>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>I awoke at one in the morning,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">I had been two hours in bed,</p>
+
+ <p>When&mdash;bang!&mdash;without any warning</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">A joke came into my head.</p>
+
+ <p>'Twas brilliant, awfully funny,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">It flashed through my drowsy brain,</p>
+
+ <p>It was worth&mdash;oh, a lot of money!&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">I chuckled again and again.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>I thought how I might employ it,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">I laughed till the tears rolled down,</p>
+
+ <p>Foreseeing how SMITH would enjoy it,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And how it would tickle BROWN.</p>
+
+ <p>I said, "I had best but hint it</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">To <i>them</i>, or they might purloin</p>
+
+ <p>This wonderful jest, then print it,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And between them divide the coin."</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Late in the morn I awoke,&mdash;I</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Puzzled with all my might</p>
+
+ <p>In vain to recall the joke I</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Made in the silent night.</p>
+
+ <p>What <i>was</i> it about? No dreamer</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Am I! No&mdash;I think&mdash;I
+ frown&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>When next I make a screamer</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">In bed&mdash;<i>I will write it
+ down</i>.</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>By the side of the bed a taper</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Shall ever with matches be,</p>
+
+ <p>A pencil and piece of paper,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">To note what occurs to me.</p>
+ <hr class="short" />
+
+ <p>Since then I have tried, but the late joke,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">As seen in my bedside scrawl,</p>
+
+ <p>Is always so poor,&mdash;that the great joke,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2"><i>I'm sure, was no joke at all!</i></p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>YES OR NO?</h2>
+
+ <blockquote class="note">
+ <p>["The hand-writing of well-educated Ladies is often
+ disgracefully illegible."&mdash;<i>A Ladies'
+ Journal</i>.]</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Oh, never did lover in fable</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">In such a predicament stand,</p>
+
+ <p>A letter I wrote to my MABEL,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">To ask for her heart and her hand,</p>
+
+ <p>With compliments worded so nicely,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">A lifelong devotion I swore;</p>
+
+ <p>She's answered&mdash;and left me precisely</p>
+
+ <p class="i8">As wise as before!</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>It is true that I begged, when inditing</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">My note, a reply with all speed,</p>
+
+ <p>And MABEL, to judge from the writing,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Fulfilled my petition indeed!</p>
+
+ <p>The drift of this scrawl, so erratic,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">I am wholly unable to guess&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>It may be refusal emphatic,</p>
+
+ <p class="i8">Or can it be "Yes"?</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>"Affection" she'll feel for me "ever,"</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">But stay&mdash;if that blot is an
+ "<i>n</i>"</p>
+
+ <p>It turns it at once into "never,"</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Or is it a slip of the pen?</p>
+
+ <p>Her heart will a "truant (or true?) be,"</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">And what is the word just above?</p>
+
+ <p>It looks like&mdash;it cannot be&mdash;"booby"!</p>
+
+ <p class="i8">Perhaps it is "love."</p>
+ </div>
+
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>A meeting must needs be awaited</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">To render these mysteries plain;</p>
+
+ <p>Perhaps in this letter she's stated</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">She never will see me again;</p>
+
+ <p>On one thing at least I've decided;&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Should she be my partner for life,</p>
+
+ <p>A type-writer shall be provided</p>
+
+ <p class="i8">For the use of my wife!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h3>The German and Horse-trying Ride.</h3>
+
+ <blockquote class="note">
+ <p>["Most of the horses were standing, but propping
+ themselves up against a wall or a post."&mdash;<i>Standard,
+ Wednesday, October 12th</i>.]</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Pity the sorrows of a worn-out horse,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Whose trembling limbs support him 'gainst
+ a wall;</p>
+
+ <p>Who asks you,&mdash;fearing future trials
+ worse&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">To kill him with a sudden
+ shot,&mdash;that's all.</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <p>A CORRESPONDENT signing "INNOCENTIA DOCET," wants to know if
+ "the Hub of the Universe" is an official appointment that can
+ only be held by a Mahommedan or a Mormon?</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page190"
+ id="page190"></a>[pg 190]</span>
+
+ <h2>CONVERSATIONAL HINTS TO YOUNG SHOOTERS.</h2>
+
+ <h4>(<i>By Mr. Punch's own Grouse in the Gun-room.</i>)</h4>
+
+ <p>And, next, my gallant young Sportsmen, just sharpen up your
+ attention, and, if you have ears, prepare to lend them now. Be,
+ in fact, all ears. At any rate, get yourselves as near as
+ possible to that desirable condition, for we are going to
+ discuss shooting-lunches, and all that pertains to them. Think
+ of it! Are not some of your happiest memories, and your most
+ delightful anticipations, bound up with the mid-day meal, at
+ which the anxieties and disappointments of the morning, the
+ birds you missed, the birds that, though they got up in front
+ of you, were shot by your jealous neighbour, the wiped-eyes,
+ the hands torn in the thorn-bushes, at which, as I say, all
+ these are forgotten, when you lay aside your gun, and sit down
+ to your short repose. Then it is that the talker shines
+ supreme. All the conversation which may have been broken in
+ upon during the morning by the necessity for posting yourself
+ at the hot corner, or the grassy ride, or in the butt, or for
+ polishing off a right and left of partridges, can then flow
+ free and uninterrupted. Ah, happy moments, when the bad shot
+ becomes as the good, and all distinctions are levelled! How
+ well, how gratefully do I remember you! Still, in my waking
+ fancies, there rises to my nose a savoury odour, telling of
+ stew or hot-pot, and still the crisp succulence of the jam
+ tartlet has honour in my memory. Ah, <i>tempi passati, tempi
+ passati</i>! But away, fancy, and to our work, which is to
+ speak of</p>
+
+ <h3 class="sc">Shooting-Lunches</h3>
+
+ <p>in their relation to talk:&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>(1.) Be extremely careful, unless you know exactly the ways
+ of your host with regard to his shooting-lunch, not to express
+ to him before lunch any very definite opinion as to what the
+ best kind of lunch is. If, for instance, you rashly declare
+ that, for your own part, you detest a solemn
+ sit-down-in-a-farmhouse lunch, and that your ideal is a
+ sandwich, a biscuit and a nip out of a flask, and if you then
+ find yourself lunching off three courses at a comfortable
+ table, why you'll be in a bit of a hole. Consistency would
+ prompt you to abstain, appetite urges you to eat. What is a
+ poor talker to do? Obviously, he must get out somehow. Here is
+ a suggested method. Begin by admiring the room.</p>
+
+ <p>"By Jove, what a jolly little room this is. It's as spick
+ and span as a model dairy. I wish you'd take me on as your
+ tenant, CHALMERS, when you've got a vacancy."</p>
+
+ <p>CHALMERS will say, "It's not a bad little hole. Old Mrs.
+ NUBBLES keeps things wonderfully spruce. This is one of the
+ cottages I built five years ago."</p>
+
+ <p>There's your first move. Your next is as follows. Every
+ rustic-cottage contains gruesome china-ornaments and
+ excruciating-cheap German-prints of such subjects as "<i>The
+ Tryst</i>" (always spelt "<i>The Trist</i>" on the German
+ print), "<i>The Saylor's Return," "The Warior's Dreem</i>,"
+ "<i>Napoleon at Arcola</i>," and so forth. Point to a
+ china-ornament and say, "I never knew cows in this part of the
+ country were blue and green." Then after you've exhausted the
+ cow, milked her dry, so to speak, you can take a turn at the
+ engravings, and make a sly hit at the taste in art generated by
+ modern education. Hereupon, someone is dead certain to chime in
+ with the veteran grumble about farmers who educate their
+ children above their station by allowing their daughters to
+ learn to play the piano, and their sons to acquire the
+ rudiments of Latin: "Give you my word of honour, the farmers'
+ daughters about my uncle's place, get their dresses made by my
+ aunt's dressmaker, and thump out old WAGNER all day long." This
+ horrible picture of rural depravity will cause an animated
+ discussion. When it is over, you can say, "This is the very
+ best Irish-stew I've ever tasted. I must get your cook to give
+ me the receipt."</p>
+
+ <p>"Ah, my boy," says CHALMERS, "you'll find there's nothing
+ like a stew out shooting."</p>
+
+ <p>"Of course," you say, "nothing can beat it, if you've got a
+ nice room to eat it in, and aren't pressed for time; but, if
+ you've got no end of ground to cover, and not much time to do
+ it in, I can always manage to do myself on a scrap of anything
+ handy. Thanks, I don't mind if I do have a chunk of cake, and a
+ whitewash of sherry."</p>
+
+ <p>Thus you have fetched a compass&mdash;I fancy the phrase is
+ correct&mdash;and have wiped out the memory of your
+ indiscretion. Of course the thing may happen the other way
+ round. You may have expressed a preference for solid lunches,
+ only to find yourself set down on a tuft of grass, with a beef
+ sandwich and a digestive biscuit. In that case you can begin by
+ declaring your delight in an open-air meal, go on to admire the
+ scenery, and end by expressing a certain amount of judicious
+ contempt for the Sybarite who cannot tear himself away from
+ effeminate luxuries, and the trick's done.</p>
+
+ <p>But this subject is so great, and has so many varieties,
+ that we must recur to it in our next.</p>
+ <hr />
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:70%;">
+ <a href="images/190.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/190.png"
+ alt="IN THE RUE DE LA PAIX." /></a>
+
+ <h3>IN THE RUE DE LA PAIX.</h3>
+
+ <p><i>Hairdresser</i>. "SAY THEN, SARE ZAT YOU ARE
+ RASÉ&mdash;SHAVE,&mdash;IS IT THAT I SHALL CUT YOU OFF YOUR
+ 'AIR?"</p>
+
+ <p><i>Mr. Brown</i> (<i>an old-fashioned Englishman, on his
+ first Visit to Paris&mdash;startled</i>). "HEY! WHAT! CUT
+ MY HAIR OFF! NONG, MOSSOO&mdash;COMPRENNY?&mdash;NONG! DO
+ YOU THINK I WANT TO LOOK LIKE ONE OF YOUR FRENCH
+ POODLES?"</p>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h3>TO OUR GUERNSEY CORRESPONDENTS.</h3>
+
+ <p>MR. PUNCH is sorry to find that his fancy sketch of a
+ Guernsey Car drive has been taken so seriously in some quarters
+ as to give pain and offence which were very far from being
+ intended. He begs to assure the honourable fraternity of
+ Car-proprietors and drivers in the island, that he did
+ <i>not</i> mean to suggest for a moment that there was the
+ slightest real danger to the public who patronise those highly
+ popular and excellently-conducted vehicles, or that any actual
+ driver was either intemperate or incompetent; and that, should
+ such an impression have been unfortunately produced&mdash;which
+ he hopes is impossible&mdash;no one would regret so unjust an
+ aspersion more sincerely than <i>Mr. Punch</i> himself.</p>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page191"
+ id="page191"></a>[pg 191]</span>
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:100%;">
+ <a href="images/191.png"><img width="60%"
+ src="images/191.png"
+ alt="THE GOLFER'S DREAM." /></a>
+
+ <h3>THE GOLFER'S DREAM.</h3>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+ <span class="pagenum"><a name="page192"
+ id="page192"></a>[pg 192]</span>
+
+ <h2>LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS.</h2>
+
+ <p class="author"><i>Mount Street, Grosvenor Square.</i></p>
+
+ <p>DEAR MR. PUNCH,&mdash;Your marvellous judgment in the
+ selection of your "staff"&mdash;(I believe that is the correct
+ term to use in speaking of those who write for the paper,
+ though as a rule a staff is <i>wooden-headed</i>, which I am
+ sure none of your contributors are!&mdash;I can answer for
+ <i>one</i>!)&mdash;has again placed you in the position envied
+ of all Journals, viz.,&mdash;(<i>why</i> do people put "viz.,"
+ and not "namely"?&mdash;it <i>is</i> silly!) that of affording
+ "information" given by no other Journal! All of which preamble
+ means,&mdash;(by the way, why "pre-<i>amble</i>"?&mdash;if one
+ is a speedy writer, why not "pre-<i>canter</i>"?)&mdash;that
+ <i>Punch</i>, in the person of LADY GAY&mdash;(that <i>may</i>
+ seem a little mixed, but it isn't)&mdash;was the <i>only</i>
+ Sporting Paper which tipped the winner of the Cesarewitch!</p>
+
+ <p>For confirmation of this I refer the sceptical to my last
+ week's letter, in which I stated that in dreaming of the race I
+ dreamt that "<i>Burnaby came to the rescue</i>"&mdash;and if
+ this is not giving the winner, I should like to know what is!
+ It is true I made <i>Brandy</i> my "verse selection," but that
+ would only mislead the people who go no further than the
+ surface (not of the brandy), as anyone who gave the matter a
+ moment's thought would realise that Brandy is always applied
+ <i>after</i> a rescue! I hear there was a "ton of money" for
+ the winner just before the start, but I did not see anyone
+ carrying it about, so I suppose it was what they call "covering
+ money," which, I presume, is covered over for safety, as it
+ would be risky to walk about a race-course with a ton of loose
+ money&mdash;not that I suppose anyone who goes racing would
+ touch it, but it <i>might</i> be lost! Anyhow, there was a ton
+ of money for the winner <i>after</i> the race, which his owner
+ <i>had</i> to take, willy-nilly, or HOBSON's choice!</p>
+
+ <p>The pleasantest feature of the meeting, however, was the
+ re-appearance of H.R.H. the Prince of WALES, which was also
+ pleasantly marked by one of his horses winning a race! The
+ Public having anxiously "watched" for H.R.H., the success of
+ <i>The Vigil</i> was received with enthusiasm!</p>
+
+ <p>Next week takes us to Gatwick and Sandown&mdash;(or rather
+ the <i>train</i> takes us&mdash;another absurd
+ expression)&mdash;the last day of the latter Meeting being
+ devoted to "Jumping Races," which is the contemptuous way some
+ people speak of the winter branch of our National
+ Sport!&mdash;forgetting that it demands the two most desirable
+ qualities in a horse, <i>speed and endurance</i>&mdash;whereas
+ the modern flat-racing has degenerated, for the most part, into
+ scrambles and gambles, where <i>speed</i> is the only
+ requisite!&mdash;but more of this anon&mdash;but <i>not</i>
+ anonymous, as I believe in signed articles, as the apprentice
+ said! (<i>Not</i> BRADFORD!)</p>
+
+ <p>The most important race at Gatwick&mdash;(<i>delightful</i>
+ place to go racing&mdash;lots of room to move about
+ in)&mdash;is the Thousand Pound Handicap, in which race
+ <i>Brandy</i> is worth keeping an eye on, as she ought to beat
+ <i>Burnaby</i> at the difference in the weights&mdash;other
+ horses that might make their mark during the
+ week&mdash;(especially now the ground is soft)&mdash;are,
+ <i>Pilot, Golden Garter</i>&mdash;(<i>I</i> never was guilty of
+ such extravagance as that)&mdash;<i>Queen of
+ Navarre</i>&mdash;(<i>she</i> might have been)&mdash;<i>Meadow
+ Brown</i>, <i>Terror</i>, and <i>Seawall</i>, the last three in
+ the "Jumping Races"&mdash;and, in conclusion, the inevitable
+ rhythmical winner, from</p>
+
+ <p class="author">Yours devotedly,<br />
+ LADY GAY.</p>
+
+ <h3 class="sc">Orleans Nursery Selection.</h3>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>The man who would back any other</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Appears but a gander to be,</p>
+
+ <p>For the horse that all comers will smother</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Is certainly <i>Tanderagee</i>!</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <div class="figcenter"
+ style="width:40%;">
+ <a href="images/192.png"><img width="100%"
+ src="images/192.png"
+ alt="DIGNITY AND IMPUDENCE." /></a>
+
+ <h3>DIGNITY AND IMPUDENCE.</h3>"I SAY, GUV'NER! WHEN ARE
+ YOU GOING TO BE TOOK DOWN FOR HALTERATIONS AND REPAIRS?"
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h3>MY SEASON TICKET.</h3>
+
+ <div class="poem">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <p>Ever against my breast,</p>
+
+ <p>Safe in my pocket pressed,</p>
+
+ <p>Ready at my behest,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Daintily pretty</p>
+
+ <p>Gilt-printed piece of leather,</p>
+
+ <p>Though fair or foul the weather,</p>
+
+ <p>Daily we go together</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Up to the City.</p>
+
+ <p>Yet, as I ride at ease,</p>
+
+ <p>Papers strewn on my knees,</p>
+
+ <p>And I hear "Seasons, please!"</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Shouted in warning:</p>
+
+ <p>Pockets I search in vain</p>
+
+ <p>All through and through again;</p>
+
+ <p>"Pray do not stop the train&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Lost it this morning.</p>
+
+ <p>No, I have not a card,</p>
+
+ <p>Nor can I pay you, Guard&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p>Truly my lot is hard,</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">This is the reason,</p>
+
+ <p>Now I recall to mind</p>
+
+ <p>Changing my clothes, I find</p>
+
+ <p>I left them all behind,&mdash;</p>
+
+ <p class="i2">Money, cards, 'Season.'"</p>
+ </div>
+ </div>
+ <hr />
+
+ <h2>WRITTEN A HUNDRED YEARS HENCE.</h2>
+
+ <h4>(<i>From a Collection of Communications supplied by our
+ Prophetic Compiler.</i>)</h4>
+
+ <p>DEAR MR. PUNCH,&mdash;Pray protect the Griffin! Those Goths
+ and Vandals, the Members of the Corporation of the City of
+ London, will remove it, unless you intervene. This beautiful
+ work of Art, that stands on the supposed site of the mythical
+ Temple Bar, is to come down. What would our ancestors say if
+ they were here? Would they not frown at their degenerate
+ descendants? Every student of history knows that this Griffin
+ was put up by universal consent, and considered one of the
+ finest works of art of the nineteenth century. As, indeed, it
+ was. It is full of historic memories. It was here that
+ WELLINGTON met NAPOLEON after Waterloo; and here, again, was
+ the Volunteer Movement inaugurated, when Mr. Alderman WAT
+ TYLER, putting himself at the head of the citizens, called for
+ "Three cheers for the Charter and the Anti-Corn-Law League!"
+ The beautiful bas-reliefs that used to represent the occasions
+ have disappeared, but their subjects are tenderly cherished. If
+ the Corporation <i>must</i> pull down something, let them
+ destroy the recently-erected Mansion House! but spare, oh
+ spare, the Griffin!</p>
+
+ <p class="author">Yours truly,<br />
+ A STUDENT OF THE LORE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Palace, Brixton</i>.</p>
+
+ <p>DEAR MR. PUNCH,&mdash;It is time for a protest! One of the
+ most beautiful erections of the nineteenth century (the old
+ South Kensington Railway Station of the District Railway) is to
+ be removed! Instead of the picturesque iron roof, we are to
+ have some abomination in stone! Can this be? It is said to be
+ falling to pieces under the ravages of Time. If this be really
+ the case, why not let it be restored? There was no more
+ picturesque outcome from the nineteenth century than these
+ pretty arrangements in metal. The last generation swept them
+ away by scores, by hundreds, by thousands&mdash;they did not
+ even spare the Brompton Boilers! Let not such a reproach be
+ applicable to us. We pride ourselves upon our love of Art and
+ veneration for the antique and the beautiful, and yet we would
+ pull down a building that for a century has been the admiration
+ of all with a soul for Art and a mind for appreciating the
+ sublimest efforts of genius in its highest sense! This must not
+ be.</p>
+
+ <p><i>Burlington House</i>,</p>
+
+ <p class="author">Yours truly,<br />
+ A ROYAL ACADEMICIAN.</p>
+
+ <p><i>From</i> 1 <i>to</i> 1000, <i>Piccadilly.</i></p>
+
+ <p>DEAR MR. PUNCH,&mdash;I have had the advantage of reading
+ the above letters before publication, and am of opinion that
+ they are not one whit more nonsensical than letters about the
+ <i>Foudroyant</i> and the Emmanuel Hospital that were printed
+ early in the nineties. You may make what use you please of this
+ communication.</p>
+
+ <p class="author">Yours respectfully,<br />
+ THE SPIRIT OF THE PAST.</p>
+
+ <p><i>The Earth (Branch Establishment, Mars and
+ Jupiter).</i></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" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 103, OCTOBER 22, 1892***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 15594-h.txt or 15594-h.zip *******</p>
+<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br />
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+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 103,
+October 22, 1892, by Various, Edited by F. C. Burnand
+
+
+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 22, 1892
+
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: April 9, 2005 [eBook #15594]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI,
+VOL. 103, OCTOBER 22, 1892***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+ file which includes the original illustrations.
+ See 15594-h.htm or 15594-h.zip:
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/5/9/15594/15594-h/15594-h.htm)
+ or
+ (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/5/9/15594/15594-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
+
+VOL. 103
+
+OCTOBER 22, 1892
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+IN MEMORIAM.
+
+WILLIAM HARDWICK BRADBURY.
+
+BORN, DEC. 3, 1832. DIED, OCT. 13, 1892.
+
+ Large-hearted man, most loyal friend,
+ Art thou too gone--too early lost?
+ Our comrade true, our tireless host!
+ Prompt to inspire, console, defend!
+ Gone! Hearts with grateful memories stored
+ Ache for thy loss round the old board.
+
+ The well-loved board _he_ loved so well,
+ His pride, his care, his ceaseless thought;
+ To him with life-long memories fraught;
+ For him invested with the spell
+ O'er a glad present ever cast
+ By solemn shadows of the past.
+
+ That past for him, indeed, was filled
+ With a proud spirit-retinue.
+ Greatness long since his guest he knew.
+ Whom THACKERAY's manly tones had thrilled;
+ Who heard keen JERROLD's sparkling speech,
+ And marked the genial grace of LEECH.
+
+ What changes had he known, who sat
+ With our four chiefs, of each fast friend!
+ And must such _camaraderie_ end?
+ Shall friendly counsel, cordial chat,
+ Come nevermore again to us
+ From lips with kindness tremulous?
+
+ No more shall those blue eyes ray out
+ Swift sympathy, or sudden mirth;
+ That ever mobile mouth give birth
+ To frolic whim, or friendly flout?
+ Our hearts will miss thee to the end,
+ Amphitryon generous, faithful friend!
+
+ Miss thee? Alas! the void that's there
+ No other form may hope to fill,
+ For those who now with sorrow thrill
+ In gazing on that vacant chair;
+ Whither it seems he _must_ return,
+ For whose warm hand-clasp yet we yearn.
+
+ Tribute to genius all may give,
+ Ours is the homage of the heart;
+ For a friend lost our tears will start,
+ Lost to our sight, yet who shall live,
+ Whilst one who knew that bold frank face
+ At the old board takes the old place.
+
+ For those, his closer kin, whose home
+ Is darkened by the shadow grey,
+ What can respectful love but pray
+ That consolation thither come
+ In that most sacred soothing guise
+ Which natural sorrow sanctifies.
+
+ Bereavement's anguish to assuage
+ Is a sore task that lies beyond
+ The scope of friendship or most fond
+ Affection's power. Yet may this page,
+ True witness of our love and grief,
+ To bowed hearts bring some scant relief!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"ANECDOTAGE."
+
+_COMPANION PARAGRAPH TO STORIES OF THE SAME KIND._
+
+CURRAN, the celebrated Irish Patriot, was a man of intense wit and
+humour. On one occasion he was discussing with RICHARD BRINSLEY
+SHERIDAN the possibility of combining the interests of the two
+countries under one Crown. "It is a difficult matter to arrange,"
+observed the brilliant author of the _School for Scandal_, "Right you
+are, darlint," acquiesced CURRAN, with the least taste of a brogue.
+"But where are ye to find the spalpeens for it? Ye may wake so poor a
+creature as a sow, but it takes a real gintleman to raise the rint!"
+Then, with a twinkle in his eyes, "But, for all that, ma cruiskeen,
+I'm not meself at all at all!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE LAY OF A SUCCESSFUL ANGLER.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ The dainty artificial fly
+ Designed to catch the wily trout,
+ Full loud _laudabunt alii_,
+ And I will join, at times, no doubt,
+ But yet my praise, without pretence,
+ Is not from great experience.
+
+ I talk as well as anyone
+ About the different kinds of tackle,
+ I praise the Gnat, the Olive Dun,
+ Discuss the worth of wings and hackle;
+ I've flies myself of each design,
+ No book is better filled than mine.
+
+ But when I reach the river's side
+ Alone, for none of these I wish.
+ No victim to a foolish pride.
+ My object is to capture fish;
+ Let me confess, then, since you ask it--
+ A worm it is which fills my basket!
+
+ O brown, unlovely, wriggling worm,
+ On which with scorn the haughty look,
+ It is thy fascinating squirm
+ Which brings the fattest trout to book,
+ From thee unable to refrain,
+ Though flies are cast for him in vain!
+
+ Deep gratitude to thee I feel,
+ And then, perhaps, it's chiefly keen,
+ When rival anglers view my creel,
+ And straightway turn a jealous green;
+ And, should they ask me--"What's your fly?"
+ "A fancy pattern," I reply!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+SWORD AND PEN;
+
+OR, THE RIVAL COMMANDERS.
+
+(_EXTRACT FROM A MILITARY STORY OF THE NEAR FUTURE._)
+
+Captain Pipeclay was perplexed when his Company refused to obey him.
+He was considered a fairly good soldier, but not up to date. He might
+know his drill, he might have read his _Queen's Regulations_, but he
+had vague ideas of the power of the Press.
+
+"You see, Sir," remonstrated his Colour-Sergeant; "if the rear rank
+think they should stand fast when you give the command 'Open order!'
+it is only a matter of opinion. You may be right, or you may be wrong.
+Speaking for myself, I am inclined to fancy that the men are making a
+mistake; but you can't always consider yourself omniscient."
+
+"Sergeant," returned the officer, harshly; "it is not the business of
+men to argue, but to obey."
+
+"Pardon me again, Sir, but isn't that slightly old-fashioned? I know
+that theoretically you have reason on your side; but then in these
+days of the latter end of the nineteenth century, we must not he bound
+too tightly to precedent."
+
+The Captain bit his moustache for the fourth time, and then again gave
+the order. But there was no response. The Company moved not a muscle.
+
+"This is mutiny!" cried the officer. "I will break everyone of you.
+I will put you all in the cells; and in the orderly room to-morrow
+morning, we will soon see if there is such a thing as discipline."
+
+"Discipline!" repeated the Sergeant. "Beg your pardon, Sir, but I
+don't think the men understand what you mean. The word is not to be
+found in the most recent dictionaries."
+
+And certainly things seemed to be reaching a climax, for however much
+the Commander might shout, not one of the rank and file stirred an
+inch. It was at this moment that a cloaked figure approached the
+parade-ground. The new-comer strode about with a bearing that
+suggested one accustomed to receive obedience.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked the Disguised One.
+
+"I can't get my men to obey me," explained the Captain. "I have been
+desiring them to take open order for the last ten minutes, and they
+remain as they were."
+
+"What have they to say in their defence?" was the inquiry of the Man
+in the Cloak.
+
+"He won't let us write to the newspapers!" was heard from the ranks.
+
+"Is this really so?" asked the new-comer, in a tone more of sorrow
+than of anger.
+
+"Well, Sir," returned the Captain, "as it is a rule of the Service
+that no communications shall be sent to the Press, I thought that--"
+
+"You had no right to think, Sir!" was the sharp reply. "Are you so
+ignorant that you do not know that it is a birth-right of a true-born
+Briton to air his opinions in the organs of publicity? You will allow
+the men to go to their quarters at once, that they may state their
+grievances on paper. They are at perfect liberty to write what they
+please, and they may rest assured that their communications will
+escape the grave of the waste-paper basket."
+
+Thus encouraged, the Company dismissed without further word of
+command.
+
+"And who may you be?" asked the Captain, with some bitterness. "Are
+you the Commander-in-Chief?"
+
+"I am one infinitely more powerful," was the reply. And then the
+speaker threw off his disguise-cloak, and appeared in morning-dress.
+"Behold in me the Editor of an influential Journal!"
+
+A week later the Captain had sent in his papers, and every man in the
+Company he had once commanded wore the stripe of a Lance Corporal. And
+thus was the power of the Press once again sufficiently vindicated.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE BATTLE OF THE BARDS; OR, THE LISTS FOR THE LAURELS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+PROEM.
+
+ _Tan-ta-ra-ra-ra-ra!_ The trumpets blare!
+ The rival Bards, wild-eyed, with windblown hair,
+ And close-hugged harps, advance with fire-winged feet
+ For the green Laureate Laurels to compete;
+ The laurels vacant from the brows of him
+ In whose fine light all lesser lustres dim.
+ Tourney of Troubadours! The laurels lie
+ On crimson velvet cushion couched on high,
+ Whilst _Punch_, Lord-Warden of his country's fame,
+ Attends the strains to hear, the victor-bard to name.
+
+ And first advances, as by right supreme,
+ With frosted locks adrift, and eyes a-dream,
+ With quick short footfalls, and an arm a-swing,
+ As to some cosmic rhythm heard to ring
+ From Putney to Parnassus, a brief bard.
+ (In stature, _not_ in song!) Though passion-scarred,
+ Porphyrogenitus at least he looks;
+ Haughty as one who rivalry scarce brooks;
+ Unreminiscent now of youthful rage,
+ Almost "respectable," and well-nigh sage,
+ Dame GRUNDY owns her once redoubted foe,
+ Whose polished paganry's erotic flow,
+ And red anarchic wrath 'gainst priests, and kings,
+ The virtues, and most other "proper" things,
+ Once drew her frown where now her smile's bestowed.
+ Such is the power of timely palinode!
+ Soft twanged his lyre and loud his voice outrang,
+ As the first Bard this moving measure sang:--
+
+ON THE BAYS.
+
+(_To the tune--more or less--of "In the Bay."_)
+
+I.
+
+ Beyond the bellowing onset of base war,
+ Their latest wearer wendeth! With wild zest.
+ Fulfilled of windy resonance, the rest
+ Of the bard-mob must hotly joust and jar
+ To win the wreath that he beyond the bar
+ Bare not away athwart the bland sea's breast.
+
+II.
+
+ And sooth the soft sheen of that deathless bay
+ Gleams glamorous! Amorous was I in my day,
+ Clamorous were Gath's goose-critics. But my fire,
+ Chastened from To-phet-fumes, burns purer, higher;
+ My thoughts on courtier-wings _might_ make their way
+ Did my brow bear the laurels all these desire.
+
+III.
+
+ For I, to the proprieties reconciled.
+ Who hymned Dolores, sing the "weanling child."
+ At "home-made treacle" I made mocking mirth;
+ That was before my better self had birth.
+ At virtue's lilies and languors then I smiled,
+ But Hertha's _not_ thine only goddess, O Earth!
+
+IV.
+
+ For surely brother, and master, and lord, and king,
+ Though vice's roses and raptures did not spring
+ In thy poetic garden's trim parterre;
+ Though thou wert fond of sunshine and sweet air,
+ More than of kisses, that burn, and bite, and sting;
+ Some living love our England for thee bare.
+
+V.
+
+ Thou, too, couldst sing about her sweet salt sea,
+ And trumpet paeans loud to Liberty,
+ With clamour of all applausive throats. Thy feet,
+ Not wine-press red, yet left the flowers more sweet,
+ From the pure passage of the god to be;
+ And then couldst thunder praises of England's Fleet.
+
+VI.
+
+ I did not think to glorify gods and kings,
+ Who scourged them ever with hate's sanguineous rods;
+ But who with hope and faith may live at odds?
+ And then these jingling jays with plume-plucked wings,
+ Compete, and laureate laurels _are_ lovely things,
+ Though crowing lyric lauders of kings and gods!
+
+ Beshrew the blatant bleating of sheep-voiced mimes!
+ True thunder shall strike dumb their chirping chimes.
+ If there _be_ laureate laurels, or bays, or palms,
+ In these red, Radical, revelling, riotous times,
+ They should be the true bard's, though mid-age calms
+ His revolutionary fierce rolling rhymes,
+ Fulfilled with clamour and clangour and storm of--psalms
+
+ That great lyre's golden echoes rolled away!
+ Forth tripped another claimant of the bay.
+ Trim, tittivated, tintinnabulant,
+ His bosom aped the true Parnassian pant,
+ As may a housemaid's leathern bellows mock
+ The rock--whelmed Titan's breathings. He no shock
+ Of bard-like shagginess shook to the breeze.
+ A modern Cambrian Minstrel hopes to please
+ By undishevelled dandy-daintiness,
+ Whether of lays or locks, of rhymes or dress.
+ Some bards pipe from Parnassus, some from Hermon;
+ Room for the singer of the Sunday Sermon!
+ His stimulant tepid tea, his theme a text,
+ Carmarthen's cultured caroller comes next!
+
+THE WORTH OF VERSE.
+
+AIR--"_The Birth of Verse_."
+
+ Wild thoughts which occupy the brain,
+ Vague prophecies which fill the ear,
+ Dim perturbation, precious pain,
+ A gleam of hope, a chill of fear,--
+ These vex the poet's spirit. Moral:--
+ Have a shy at the Laureate Laurel!
+
+ Some say no definite thought there is
+ In my full flatulence of sound.
+ Let National Observers quiz
+ (H-NL-Y won't have it. I'll be bound!)
+ Envy! _O trumpery, O MORRIS!_
+ Could JUVENAL jealous be of HORACE?
+
+ I know the chambers of my soul
+ Are filled with laudatory airs,
+ Such as the salaried bard should troll
+ When he the Laureate laurels wears.
+ And I am he who opened Hades,
+ To harmless parsons and to ladies!
+
+ For I _can_ "moralise my song"
+ More palpably than Mr. POPE;
+ And I can touch the toiling throng:
+ There is small doubt of _that_, I hope.
+ I've piped for him who ploughs the furrows,
+ And stood for the Carmarthen Boroughs.
+
+ I mayn't be strong, inspired, complete,
+ But on the Liberal goose I'm sound.
+ And I can count my (rhythmic) feet
+ With any Pegasus around.
+ I witch all women, and some men,
+ GLADSTONE I've drawn, and written "_Gwen_."
+
+ If these be not sufficient claims,
+ The worth of Verse is vastly small.
+ I've called him various pretty names,
+ The honoured Master of us all;
+ "His place is with the Immortals." Yes!
+ But I could fill it _here_, I guess!
+
+ His "chaste white Muse" could not object,
+ For mine is white, and awfully chaste.
+ Now ALGERNON has no respect
+ For purity and public taste.
+ EDWIN is given to allegory.
+ Whilst ALFRED is a wicked Tory!!!
+
+ He ceased. Great PUNCHIUS rubbed his eagle beak.
+ And said, "I think we'll take the rest next week!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: _Experienced Sportsman_ (_on Pony_). "WELL--HAD GOOD
+SPORT, FRED, OLD BOY?"
+
+_Inexperienced Fred_. "NOT EXACTLY 'GOOD,'--BUT I THINK I'VE LET OFF
+ABOUT A HUNDRED CARTRIDGES."
+
+_Experienced Sportsman_. "NOT SO BAD. S'POSE YOU MUST HAVE 'LET OFF'
+AN EQUAL NUMBER OF PARTRIDGES!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+IN A GHOST-SHOW.
+
+ _Warlock's "Celebrated Ghost-Exhibition and Deceptio Visus"
+ has pitched its tent for the night on a Village Green, and the
+ thrilling Drama of "Maria Martin, or, The Murder in the Red
+ Barn, in three long Acts, with unrivalled Spectral Effects and
+ Illusions," is about to begin. The Dramatis Personae are on the
+ platform outside; the venerable Mr. MARTIN is exhorting the
+ crowd to step up and witness his domestic tragedy, while the
+ injured MARIA, is taking the twopences at the door; WILLIAM
+ CORDER is finishing a pipe, and two of the Angelic Visions
+ are dancing, in blue velveteen and silver braid, to the
+ appropriate air of "The Bogie Man."_
+
+INSIDE.
+
+ _The front benches are occupied by Rustic Youths, who beguile
+ the tedium of waiting by smoking short clays, and trying to
+ pull off one another's caps._
+
+_First Youth_ (_examining the decorative Shakspearian panels on the
+proscenium._) They three old wimmin be a-pokin' o' that old nipper,
+'ooever he be.
+
+ [_The "old nipper" in question is, of course, MACBETH._
+
+_Second Youth._ Luk up at that 'un tother side--it's a Gineral's
+gho-ast a-frightenin' th' undertaker (_A subject from "Hamlet"_)
+They've gi'en over dancin' outside--they'll be beginning soon. (_The
+company descend the steps, and pass behind the scenes._) We shall see
+proper 'ere, we shall.
+
+ [_The Curtain draws up, and reveals a small stage, with an
+ inclined sheet of glass in a heavy frame in front; behind this
+ glass is the Cottage Home of MARIA MARTIN._
+
+_Maria_ (_coming out of Cottage, and speaking in an inaudible tone_).
+At last--WILLIAM CORDER--to make me his wife--I know not why--strange
+misgiving 'as come over me.
+
+[Illustration: "They catch one another's wrists, and walk up and down
+together."]
+
+ [_She is unfeelingly requested to speak up._
+
+_William Corder_ (_whose villany is suggested at once by his wearing
+a heavy silver double watch-chain, with two coins appended, and no
+neck-tie--enters left_). Yes, MARIA, as I have promised, I will take
+you to London, and make you my wife--but first meet me in disguise
+to-night, and in secret, at the Red Barn.
+
+ [_MARIA is understood to demur, but finally agrees to the
+ rendezvous, and retires into the Cottage. Old Mr. MARTIN
+ comes out in a black frock-coat, and a white waistcoat--he
+ has no neck-tie either, but the omission, in his case, merely
+ suggests a virtuous economy. He feebly objects to MARIA
+ being married in London, but admits that, "Perhaps he has no
+ right to interfere with WILLIAM's arrangements," and goes
+ indoors again. WILLIAM retires, and the scene changes to a
+ 'very small street, which is presently invaded by a very large
+ Comic Countryman, called "TIM," who is engaged to MARIA's
+ sister NANNY._
+
+_Tim_. They tell I, as how the streets o' Lunnon be paved wi' gold,
+and I be goin' 'oop to make ma fortune, I be.
+
+ [_NANNY comes in and bribes him to remain by the promise of
+ "cold pudden with plenty of gravy." Comic business, during
+ which every reference to "cold pudden" (and there are several)
+ is received with roars of laughter. WILLIAM CORDER, on
+ the ingenious plea that he wishes to take some flowers up
+ to London, borrows a spade and pickaxe from TIM, to whom it
+ appears he owes ninepence, which he promises--like the villain
+ he is--to repay "the very next time he sees him in Church."_
+
+_William_ (_going off with a flourish and a Shakspearian couplet_).
+ My _mind's_ made up. Hence _all_ thoughts _that_ are good!
+ Crimes _once_ commenced, _Must_. End in--blood! [_Act drop._
+
+_A Female Spect._ They don't seem in no 'urry to come to th' Gho-ast
+part, seemin'ly.
+
+_Her Swain._ Ye wudn't have 'em do th' Gho-ast afoor th' Murder, wud
+ye?
+
+ ACT II.--_The interior of the Red Barn. WILLIAM _discovered
+ digging MARIA's grave in his shirt-sleeves, and thereby
+ revealing that his shirt-front is as false as his heart.
+ He announces that "Nothing can shake him, now, from his
+ pre-determined purpose," and that "the grave gapes for its
+ coming victim."_
+
+ _Enter MARIA, disguised in a brown bowler hat and a very
+ tight suit of tweed "dittoes," in which she looks very like
+ the "Male Impersonator" at a Music-hall. The Audience receive
+ her with derision and the recommendation to go and get her
+ hair cut._
+
+_Maria_. Here am I in disguise at the Red Barn. And yet something
+seems to whisper to me that danger is near. WILLIAM, where, _where_
+are you?
+
+_William_ (_coming out of a corner_). 'Ere, MARIA, 'ere! (_Aside._)
+Now to 'url my victim to an early grave! (_Aloud._) 'Ave you obeyed my
+instructions and avoided notice?
+
+_Maria_. I have. Whenever I saw anyone approaching, I hid behind a
+hedge and ducked in the ditch.
+
+_William_ (_with sombre approval_). That was most discreet on your
+part, MARIA. No one saw you come in, and no one will ever see you go
+out. Be'old your open grave!
+
+ [_After some pleading from MARIA, a desperate struggle takes
+ place--that is, they catch one another's wrists, and walk up
+ and down together. MARIA calls upon her Mother's spirit,
+ whereupon a very youthful Angel is seen floating above the
+ couple._
+
+_The Female S._ (_triumphantly_). Theer now--theer ain't bin no murder
+yet, and theer's th' Gho-ast sure enough!
+
+_Swain_ (_who is not going to own that he is mistaken_). That ain't
+naw Gho-ast!
+
+_Female S._ What is it, then?
+
+_Swain._ Why, it's the "De-cep-ti-o Vissus," as was wrote up outside.
+
+ [_The Guardian Angel vanishes; WILLIAM _gets a spade, and
+ aims at MARIA, who takes it away, and strikes him; he is
+ then reduced to the pick-axe, but she wrests this from him
+ too, and hits him in the face with it. He pulls her coat off,
+ and her hair down--but she escapes from him a third time--on
+ which he snatches up a pistol, and fires it._
+
+_William_ (_with unreasonable surprise_). Great Evans! What 'ave I
+done? I, am become a _Murderer_! The shot 'as taken effect! See,
+she staggers this way! (_Which MARIA does, to die comfortably in
+WILLIAM's arms_.) I 'ave slain the only woman who ever truly loved
+me; and I know not whether I loved her most while living, or hate her
+most now she's dead! (_The Curtain falls, leaving WILLIAM with this
+nice point still unsolved, and the Audience profoundly unmoved by the
+tragedy, and evidently longing for more of the Comic Countryman._)
+
+ ACT III.--_Interior of Old MARTIN's Cottage. He attempts to
+ forget his anxiety about his daughter--who he fears, with
+ only too much reason, has come to an untimely end--by going to
+ sleep in a highly uncomfortable position on a kitchen-chair.
+ The Murder is re-enacted in a vision, in dumb-show. The form
+ of MARIA appears in the tweed suit, and urges him to search
+ for her remains in the Red Barn._
+
+_Old Martin_ (_awaking_). I have 'ad a fearful dream, and I am under
+the impression that MARIA has been foully murdered in the Red Barn.
+
+ [_He calls the Comic Countryman to help him "to commence
+ a thorough investigation"--which he does, in a spirit of
+ rollicking fun befitting the occasion, as the Scene changes to
+ the Red Barn._
+
+_Old M._ (_finding the spade_). What's this? A spade--and, by its
+appearance, it 'as recently been used, for there are marks of blood
+upon it! I now begin to be afraid my dream will come true.
+
+ [_Roars of laughter when the Comic C. discovers the body, and
+ implores it to "say summat!" Change of Scene. WILLIAM CORDER
+ discovered At Home, in a long perspective of pillars and
+ curtains, ending in a lawn and fountain._
+
+_William_ (_moodily_). 'Tis now exactly twelve months since MARIA
+MARTIN was done to death by these 'ands. Since then, I have married a
+young, rich, and beautiful wife--and yet I am not 'appy.
+
+ [_Enter Old MARTIN, who, by the simple method of changing
+ his hat and coat, has now become a Bow-street Officer; he puts
+ questions to WILLIAM, who at once betrays himself, and has
+ to be searched. As a pair of pistols exactly resembling one
+ that was left in the Red Barn, are found in his coat-tail
+ pockets; his guilt is conclusively proved, and he is led away.
+ The next Scene shows him in the Condemned Cell, resolving to
+ sleep away his few remaining hours on a kitchen-chair. He has
+ a vision of MARIA in tweeds, who exhorts him to repent_.
+ Old MARTIN, _who is now either the Governor of the Gaol or the
+ Hangman, enters to conduct him to the scaffold, and on the way
+ he is met--to the joy of the Audience--by the Comic, C.,
+ who duns him for the ninepence. WILLIAM shakes his head
+ solemnly, points to the skies, and passes on. The Comic C.
+ then goes to sleep in a chair and has a vision on his own
+ account, in which he beholds the apotheosis of MARIA--still
+ in the suit of dittoes--and piloted by a couple of obviously
+ overweighted Angels; and also the last moments of WILLIAM
+ CORDER, who, as he stands under an enlarged "Punch"
+ gibbet, pronounces the following impressive farewell before
+ disappearing through a trap._
+
+ Ye Youth, be warned by my Despair!
+ Avoid bad women, false as they are fair. (_This is just a little
+ hard on poor MARIA by-the-way._)
+ Be wise in time, if you would shun my fate,
+ For oh! how wretched is the man who's wise too late!
+
+ [_And with this the Drama comes to an end, and the Comic
+ Countryman begs the Audience to give the performance a good
+ word to their friends outside._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+BETWEEN THE ACTS; OR, THE DRAMA IN LIQUOR.
+
+ SCENE--_Refreshment Saloon at a London Theatre. A three-play
+ bill forms the evening's entertainment. First Act over. Enter
+ BROWN, JONES, and ROBINSON._
+
+_Brown_. Well, really a very pleasant little piece. Quite amusing.
+Yes; I think I will have a cup of coffee or a glass of lemonade. Too
+soon after dinner for anything stronger.
+
+_Jones_. Yes, and really, after laughing so much, one gets a thirst
+for what they call light refreshments. I will have some ginger-beer.
+
+_Robinson_. Well, I think I will stick to iced-water. You know the
+Americans are very fond of that. They always take it at meal-times,
+and really after that capital _equivoque_ one feels quite satisfied.
+(_They are served by the Bar Attendant._) That was really very funny,
+where he hides behind the door when she is not looking.
+
+ [_Laughs at the recollection._
+
+_Brown_. And when the uncle sits down upon the band-box and crushes
+the canary-cage! [_Chuckles._
+
+_Jones_. Most clever. But there goes the bell, and the Curtain will
+be up directly. Rather clever, I am told. The _Rose of Rouen_--it
+is founded on the life of _Joan of Arc_. I am rather fond of these
+historical studies.
+
+_Brown_. So am I. They are very interesting.
+
+_Robinson_. Do you think so? Well, so far as I am concerned, I
+prefer Melodrama. Judging from the title, _The Gory Hand_ should be
+uncommonly good.
+
+ [_Exeunt into Theatre. After a pause they return to the
+ Refreshment Room._
+
+_Brown_. Well, it is very clever; but I confess it beats me. (_To Bar
+Attendant._) We will all take soda-water. No, thanks, quite neat, and
+for these gentlemen too.
+
+_Jones_. Well, I call it a most excellent psychological study.
+However, wants a clear head to understand it. (_Sips his soda-water._)
+I don't see how she can take the flag from the Bishop, and yet want to
+marry the Englishman.
+
+_Robinson_. Ah, but that was before the vision. If you think it over
+carefully, you will see it was natural enough. Of course, you
+must allow for the spirit of the period, and other surrounding
+circumstances.
+
+_Brown_. Are you going to stay for _The Gory Hand_?
+
+_Jones_. Not I. I am tired of play-acting, and think we have had
+enough of it.
+
+_Robinson_. Well, I think I shall look in. I am rather fond of strong
+scenes, and it should be good, to judge from the programme.
+
+_Jones_. Well, we will "sit out." It's rather gruesome. Quite
+different from the other plays.
+
+_Robinson_. Well, I don't mind horrors--in fact, like them. There goes
+the bell. So I am off. Wait until I come back.
+
+_Brown_. That depends how long you are away. Ta, ta!
+
+ [_Exit ROBINSON._
+
+_Jones_. Now, how a fellow can enjoy a piece like that, I cannot
+understand. It is full of murders, from the rise to the fall of the
+Curtain.
+
+_Brown_. Yes--but ROBINSON likes that sort of thing. You will see
+by-and-by how the plot will affect him. It is rather jumpy, especially
+at the end, when the severed head tells the story of the murder to the
+assistant executioner. I would not see it again on any account.
+
+_Jones_. No--it sent my Maiden Aunt in hysterics. However, it has the
+merit of being short. (_Applause._) Ah, there it's over! Let's see
+how ROBINSON likes it. That _tableau_ at the end, of the
+starving-coastguardsman expiring under the rack, is perfectly awful!
+(_Enter ROBINSON, staggering in._) Why, my boy, what's the matter?
+
+_Brown_. You do look scared! Have something to drink? That will set it
+all to-rights!
+
+_Robinson_ (_with his eyes protruding from his head, from horror_).
+Here, help! help! (_After a long shudder._) Brandy! Brandy I: Brandy!
+
+ [_At all the places at the bar there is a general demand for
+ alcohol._
+
+_Brown_. Yes. IRVING was right; soda-water does very well for
+SHAKSPEARE's histories, but when you come to a piece like _The Bells_,
+you require supporting. [_Curtain and moral._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"IN A WINTER (COVENT) GARDEN."
+
+That indefatigable Showman, Sir DRURIOLANUS, the Invincible Knight,
+commenced his Winter Operatic Season on Monday, the Tenth, at Covent
+Garden, so as to be well in advance of Signor LAGO, who may now boast
+of having _La Donna_, Her Most Gracious MAJESTY, for his patron.
+
+_Monday Night_.--The two RAVOGLIS in good form in the _Orfeo._
+Likewise the Player of the Big Drum made more than one big hit during
+the evening. "_Che faro_" was re-demanded. "Tired of '_Faro_,'" quoth
+Mr. WAGGSTAFF--"why not make it '_Whisto_,' or some other game?"
+_Exit_ WAGGY. The _Intermezzo_ of _Cavalleria Rusticana_ of course
+encored enthusiastically. "Signor CREMONNINI," quoth WAGG, returning,
+"is not half the 'ninny' his name implies." And, indeed, from the
+moment he was heard singing "in his ambush" (as the Irish boy in the
+Gallery said of TOM HOHLER at the Dublin Theatre when he heard the
+_Trovatore's_ voice behind the scenes) before the rise of the Curtain,
+everyone said, "This is the tenner for our money."
+
+[Illustration: OPERATIC TACTICS.
+
+_Sir Druriolanus_. "I Say, Bevignani, I think we've got the right
+pitch, eh?"]
+
+_Tuesday_.--The namesake of our own GEORGE AUGUSTUS, Mlle. ROSITA
+SALA, made a real hit as _Leonora_ in _Il Trovatore_. "Handsome is as
+handsome does," and Mlle. SALA didn't act as "handsome" as she looked.
+Another "ninny" played to-night, namely GIANNINNI, all right vocally,
+but not much dramatically. "_Il Balen_" was encored when sung by a
+manly baritone with the feminine name of ANNA; i.e., Signor DE ANNA.
+He might advantageously alter DE-ANNA to APOLLO, that is if he could
+be sure of looking the part.
+
+_Wednesday_.--_Lohengrin_. MELBA as _Elsa_. WAGGSTAFF tried to make
+his usual pun on the name of _Ortruda_, but was "countered" by Young
+JUMPER who protested that he had heard it before and never wanted to
+hear it again. "I know what you're going to say," he exclaimed; "it's
+something about '_aught ruder_!' I know!" "I've no doubt you do,"
+returned the defrauded WAGGY, sarcastically, "for you're uncommonly
+like _Othello_, 'Rude am I in speech'--only," added WAGGSTAFF, "_he_
+apologised for it." Young JUMPER sniggered, his friends laughed, and
+the incident terminated. The Chorus seemed to have become Wandering
+Minstrels, so very uncertain were they.
+
+Altogether, Sir DRURIOLANUS OPERATICUS, with his successful Drury Lane
+Race-course, his Provincial Theatre, his Italian Opera, his Paper (not
+_in_ the House, but his weekly one out of it), his Music-of-the-Future
+Hall, for which a temporary and limited licence has been granted,
+will--in a general-dealer kind of way--be having a good time of it
+till Pantomime Season slaps him on the back with a cheery "Here we are
+again!" and then he will have another and a better time. No doubt of
+Sir Gus's success, or in abbreviated proverbial Latin, "_De Gus. non
+disputandum_."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE HEIGHT OF EXCLUSIVENESS.
+
+_Miss Prunes._ "AH, DOCTOR, THESE HIGH SCHOOLS ARE SADLY MIXED! BUT,
+UNDER _MY_ CARE, I CAN ASSURE YOU THAT YOUR LITTLE WARD WILL ASSOCIATE
+WITH DAUGHTERS OF _GENTLEMEN ONLY_!"
+
+_The Doctor._ "THAT, MADAM, IS TO BE SELECT INDEED; SINCE I BELIEVE
+PALLAS ATHENE ALONE FULFILLED SUCH A CONDITION."
+
+(For pedigree of Pallas Athene vide Classical Dictionary--Art.
+"Minerva.")]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+COLUMBUS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ COLUMBUS! We read of him every day,
+ In books, pamphlets, magazines, papers;
+ Whilst Italy, Portugal, Spain, U.S.A.,
+ Cut constant, consecutive capers.
+
+ They started last month with reviews on the main;
+ On the land with processions--a quaint row.
+ Such the fetes, aptly called by the French "_Fetes de Genes_,"
+ _Fait accompli_, good luck, _ca nous gene trop!_
+
+ But never say die; now Huelva goes on,
+ New York follows, steady and sober,
+ And Chicago makes ready for more derned, dog gone
+ _Fetes_ to last till, at least, next October!
+
+ COLUMBUS, your search for a sort of New Cut
+ Was meant for the best, we don't doubt it;
+ No harm in discovering Continents, but
+ You might have said nothing about it.
+
+ Still, had you not found a location for clam,
+ Canvas back, buckwheat cakes, we should sorter
+ Have missed the acquaintance of 'cute Uncle SAM,
+ And his fearless, free, fragile, fair daughter.
+
+ COLUMBUS! The newspapers never will drop
+ This subject; we wish, as months roll on,
+ Some common bacillus had put a full stop
+ Long ago to Don CHRISTOBAL COLON!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"ANECDOTAGE."
+
+_COMPANION PARAGRAPHS TO STORIES OF THE SAME KIND._
+
+SIR WALTER SCOTT was never so well pleased as when meeting a brother
+author. One day he passed by a gauger, who was so careless in
+his duties that the author of _Waverley_ was able to smuggle into
+Edinburgh some whiskey that was supposed never to have paid duty. On
+reaching Abbotsford, "the Wizard of the North" was informed that he
+had met one of the greatest poets of North Britain. "So I suspected,"
+he replied. "It must have been BURNS." Sir WALTER was right--it _was_
+BURNS.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+PITT, the younger, and FOX were both fond of port wine, and lost
+no opportunity of indulging in their favourite beverage. Meeting at
+CROCKFORD's one evening, PITT (being in straitened circumstances)
+proposed that they should play for a bottle of sherry. "No," said
+FOX, "if I must lose, I will lose in Claret!" and the rival Statesmen
+succumbed to intoxication.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+WILBERFORCE, the well-known philanthropist, was accustomed to visit
+the prisons. At Newgate one day he met a well-known forger, and asked
+him "What he was in for?" "For the same reason that you are out," was
+the smart, but uncourteous reply.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+NEW REGULATIONS FOR THE ENGLISH POLICE.
+
+(_FREELY ADAPTED FROM THE IRISH RULES._)
+
+[Illustration]
+
+1. Constables who are required to interfere in a street-row must have
+fourteen days' notice before they can be expected on the spot of the
+disturbance.
+
+2. Policemen will parade the streets from 12 A.M. to 4 P.M., but will
+make themselves scarce in the event of meeting a party procession, or
+noticing the holding of a public demonstration.
+
+3. Hyde Park, Trafalgar Square, and all other fashionable
+trysting-places, shall be considered without the sphere of Police
+influence at times of political excitement.
+
+4. Constables shall not congregate on land set apart for workmen's
+gatherings, except to organise strikes amongst themselves.
+
+5. The labours of the Police shall not commence before sunrise, or
+continue after sunset; and it will be left to the sagacity of
+the Public to guard their own property during the hours that the
+Constables are off duty.
+
+6. In the absence of the Civil Power, it will be considered contrary
+to professional etiquette for any respectable member of the criminal
+classes to carry on his unimpeded vocation.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE WHITE ELEPHANT.
+
+PRESENT PROPRIETOR (_loq._). "SEE HERE, GOVERNOR! HE'S A
+LIKELY-LOOKING ANIMAL,--BUT _I_ CAN'T MANAGE HIM! IF _YOU_ WON'T TAKE
+HIM, I MUST LET HIM GO!!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE GREAT UNKNOWN.
+
+ [The Rev. Dr. SMYTHE PALMER, of Trinity College, Dublin,
+ has just compiled a Book of Extracts, entitled _The Perfect
+ Gentleman_.]
+
+A Gentleman must be liberal, not to say lavish, to servants, porters,
+gamekeepers, and others, or he is "no gent." At the same time the
+Perfect Gentleman is never extravagant.
+
+He must not work. At the same time he must not be an idler.
+
+He is known by his scrupulous attention to the minutiae of personal
+appearance, while "despising all outside show."
+
+The Perfect Gentleman "never wilfully hurts anybody." No soldier,
+doctor, or schoolmaster can, therefore, ever be a P.G.
+
+He is always perfectly open and frank. He is also sufficiently artful
+to conceal the fact that he considers the person he is talking to a
+mixture of a snob and a blockhead.
+
+When his favourite corn is trodden on by a weighty stranger, he never
+utters any expression stronger than "Dear me!"
+
+He never loses his temper.
+
+He must know how to treat everyone according to their rank and
+situation in life, but show special courtesy to those who are his
+inferiors.
+
+He must be well-born, although there are plenty of "Nature's
+Gentlemen" in the ranks of day-labourers.
+
+He must be sufficiently wealthy to keep up a good position, while
+recognising the fact that money has nothing to do with true gentility.
+
+He should also try and remember that no such jumble of contradictions
+as the Perfect Gentleman ever existed.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: HIS BEST "SOOT."
+
+_Short-tempered Gentleman in Black_ (_after violent collision with a
+Stonemason fresh from work_). "NOW, I'LL ARSK YOU JEST TO LOOK AT THE
+NARSTY BEASTLY MESS AS YOU'VE GONE AND MIDE ME IN! WHY, I'M SIMPLY
+SMOTHERED IN SOME 'ORRID WHITE STUFF!! WHY DON'T YER BE MORE
+CAREFUL!!!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+EPIGRAMMATICALLY PUT.--An Asylums Board Manager wrote to the _Times_
+to complain of Mr. LITTLER, M.P., Q.C.'s charges against the Asylums
+and Fever Hospitals management. "Which is right, or which is wrong,"
+to paraphrase _Mr. Mantalini's_ words, is no business just now of
+ours, but the writer of the reply to the attack, might have summed up
+by saying "that to _him_, Mr. LITTLER, whatever his Christian names
+might be, appeared as a _Be-Littler_."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"MR. GLADSTONE ON RENTS IN WALES."--What the Right Honble. Mr.
+G. omitted to say, when speaking on this subject, was that "but
+a comparatively small rent in Wales would be produced by
+Disestablishment, whenever that event should happen, and that this
+would soon be mended."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+TEMPERANCE RIDDLE.--Why is a man who is thoroughly good-natured and
+ever ready to oblige, likely to end as a confirmed drunkard? Because
+he is always _willing_.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A USEFUL EXPERIENCE.
+
+ I awoke at one in the morning,
+ I had been two hours in bed,
+ When--bang!--without any warning
+ A joke came into my head.
+ 'Twas brilliant, awfully funny,
+ It flashed through my drowsy brain,
+ It was worth--oh, a lot of money!--
+ I chuckled again and again.
+
+ I thought how I might employ it,
+ I laughed till the tears rolled down,
+ Foreseeing how SMITH would enjoy it,
+ And how it would tickle BROWN.
+ I said, "I had best but hint it
+ To _them_, or they might purloin
+ This wonderful jest, then print it,
+ And between them divide the coin."
+
+ Late in the morn I awoke,--I
+ Puzzled with all my might
+ In vain to recall the joke I
+ Made in the silent night.
+ What _was_ it about? No dreamer
+ Am I! No--I think--I frown--
+ When next I make a screamer
+ In bed--_I will write it down_.
+
+ By the side of the bed a taper
+ Shall ever with matches be,
+ A pencil and piece of paper,
+ To note what occurs to me.
+ * * * * *
+ Since then I have tried, but the late joke,
+ As seen in my bedside scrawl,
+ Is always so poor,--that the great joke,
+ _I'm sure, was no joke at all!_
+
+ * * * * *
+
+YES OR NO?
+
+ ["The hand-writing of well-educated Ladies is often
+ disgracefully illegible."--_A Ladies' Journal_.]
+
+ Oh, never did lover in fable
+ In such a predicament stand,
+ A letter I wrote to my MABEL,
+ To ask for her heart and her hand,
+ With compliments worded so nicely,
+ A lifelong devotion I swore;
+ She's answered--and left me precisely
+ As wise as before!
+
+ It is true that I begged, when inditing
+ My note, a reply with all speed,
+ And MABEL, to judge from the writing,
+ Fulfilled my petition indeed!
+ The drift of this scrawl, so erratic,
+ I am wholly unable to guess--
+ It may be refusal emphatic,
+ Or can it be "Yes"?
+
+ "Affection" she'll feel for me "ever,"
+ But stay--if that blot is an "_n_"
+ It turns it at once into "never,"
+ Or is it a slip of the pen?
+ Her heart will a "truant (or true?) be,"
+ And what is the word just above?
+ It looks like--it cannot be--"booby"!
+ Perhaps it is "love."
+
+ A meeting must needs be awaited
+ To render these mysteries plain;
+ Perhaps in this letter she's stated
+ She never will see me again;
+ On one thing at least I've decided;--
+ Should she be my partner for life,
+ A type-writer shall be provided
+ For the use of my wife!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE GERMAN AND HORSE-TRYING RIDE.
+
+ ["Most of the horses were standing, but propping themselves
+ up against a wall or a post."--_Standard, Wednesday, October
+ 12th_.]
+
+ Pity the sorrows of a worn-out horse,
+ Whose trembling limbs support him 'gainst a wall;
+ Who asks you,--fearing future trials worse--
+ To kill him with a sudden shot,--that's all.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+A CORRESPONDENT signing "INNOCENTIA DOCET," wants to know if "the Hub
+of the Universe" is an official appointment that can only be held by a
+Mahommedan or a Mormon?
+
+ * * * * *
+
+CONVERSATIONAL HINTS TO YOUNG SHOOTERS.
+
+(_BY MR. PUNCH'S OWN GROUSE IN THE GUN-ROOM._)
+
+And, next, my gallant young Sportsmen, just sharpen up your attention,
+and, if you have ears, prepare to lend them now. Be, in fact,
+all ears. At any rate, get yourselves as near as possible to that
+desirable condition, for we are going to discuss shooting-lunches, and
+all that pertains to them. Think of it! Are not some of your happiest
+memories, and your most delightful anticipations, bound up with
+the mid-day meal, at which the anxieties and disappointments of the
+morning, the birds you missed, the birds that, though they got up in
+front of you, were shot by your jealous neighbour, the wiped-eyes,
+the hands torn in the thorn-bushes, at which, as I say, all these
+are forgotten, when you lay aside your gun, and sit down to your
+short repose. Then it is that the talker shines supreme. All the
+conversation which may have been broken in upon during the morning by
+the necessity for posting yourself at the hot corner, or the grassy
+ride, or in the butt, or for polishing off a right and left of
+partridges, can then flow free and uninterrupted. Ah, happy moments,
+when the bad shot becomes as the good, and all distinctions are
+levelled! How well, how gratefully do I remember you! Still, in my
+waking fancies, there rises to my nose a savoury odour, telling of
+stew or hot-pot, and still the crisp succulence of the jam tartlet
+has honour in my memory. Ah, _tempi passati, tempi passati_! But away,
+fancy, and to our work, which is to speak of
+
+SHOOTING-LUNCHES
+
+in their relation to talk:--
+
+(1.) Be extremely careful, unless you know exactly the ways of your
+host with regard to his shooting-lunch, not to express to him before
+lunch any very definite opinion as to what the best kind of lunch
+is. If, for instance, you rashly declare that, for your own part, you
+detest a solemn sit-down-in-a-farmhouse lunch, and that your ideal
+is a sandwich, a biscuit and a nip out of a flask, and if you then
+find yourself lunching off three courses at a comfortable table, why
+you'll be in a bit of a hole. Consistency would prompt you to abstain,
+appetite urges you to eat. What is a poor talker to do? Obviously, he
+must get out somehow. Here is a suggested method. Begin by admiring
+the room.
+
+"By Jove, what a jolly little room this is. It's as spick and span as
+a model dairy. I wish you'd take me on as your tenant, CHALMERS, when
+you've got a vacancy."
+
+CHALMERS will say, "It's not a bad little hole. Old Mrs. NUBBLES keeps
+things wonderfully spruce. This is one of the cottages I built five
+years ago."
+
+There's your first move. Your next is as follows. Every rustic-cottage
+contains gruesome china-ornaments and excruciating-cheap German-prints
+of such subjects as "_The Tryst_" (always spelt "_The Trist_" on
+the German print), "_The Saylor's Return," "The Warior's Dreem_,"
+"_Napoleon at Arcola_," and so forth. Point to a china-ornament and
+say, "I never knew cows in this part of the country were blue and
+green." Then after you've exhausted the cow, milked her dry, so to
+speak, you can take a turn at the engravings, and make a sly hit at
+the taste in art generated by modern education. Hereupon, someone is
+dead certain to chime in with the veteran grumble about farmers who
+educate their children above their station by allowing their daughters
+to learn to play the piano, and their sons to acquire the rudiments
+of Latin: "Give you my word of honour, the farmers' daughters about
+my uncle's place, get their dresses made by my aunt's dressmaker, and
+thump out old WAGNER all day long." This horrible picture of rural
+depravity will cause an animated discussion. When it is over, you can
+say, "This is the very best Irish-stew I've ever tasted. I must get
+your cook to give me the receipt."
+
+"Ah, my boy," says CHALMERS, "you'll find there's nothing like a stew
+out shooting."
+
+"Of course," you say, "nothing can beat it, if you've got a nice room
+to eat it in, and aren't pressed for time; but, if you've got no end
+of ground to cover, and not much time to do it in, I can always manage
+to do myself on a scrap of anything handy. Thanks, I don't mind if I
+do have a chunk of cake, and a whitewash of sherry."
+
+Thus you have fetched a compass--I fancy the phrase is correct--and
+have wiped out the memory of your indiscretion. Of course the thing
+may happen the other way round. You may have expressed a preference
+for solid lunches, only to find yourself set down on a tuft of grass,
+with a beef sandwich and a digestive biscuit. In that case you can
+begin by declaring your delight in an open-air meal, go on to admire
+the scenery, and end by expressing a certain amount of judicious
+contempt for the Sybarite who cannot tear himself away from effeminate
+luxuries, and the trick's done.
+
+But this subject is so great, and has so many varieties, that we must
+recur to it in our next.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: IN THE RUE DE LA PAIX.
+
+_Hairdresser_. "SAY THEN, SARE ZAT YOU ARE RASE--SHAVE,--IS IT THAT I
+SHALL CUT YOU OFF YOUR 'AIR?"
+
+_Mr. Brown_ (_an old-fashioned Englishman, on his first Visit
+to Paris--startled_). "HEY! WHAT! CUT MY HAIR OFF! NONG,
+MOSSOO--COMPRENNY?--NONG! DO YOU THINK I WANT TO LOOK LIKE ONE OF YOUR
+FRENCH POODLES?"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+TO OUR GUERNSEY CORRESPONDENTS.
+
+MR. PUNCH is sorry to find that his fancy sketch of a Guernsey Car
+drive has been taken so seriously in some quarters as to give pain and
+offence which were very far from being intended. He begs to assure the
+honourable fraternity of Car-proprietors and drivers in the island,
+that he did _not_ mean to suggest for a moment that there was the
+slightest real danger to the public who patronise those highly popular
+and excellently-conducted vehicles, or that any actual driver was
+either intemperate or incompetent; and that, should such an impression
+have been unfortunately produced--which he hopes is impossible--no one
+would regret so unjust an aspersion more sincerely than _Mr. Punch_
+himself.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE GOLFER'S DREAM.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS.
+
+_Mount Street, Grosvenor Square._
+
+DEAR MR. PUNCH,--Your marvellous judgment in the selection of your
+"staff"--(I believe that is the correct term to use in speaking
+of those who write for the paper, though as a rule a staff is
+_wooden-headed_, which I am sure none of your contributors are!--I
+can answer for _one_!)--has again placed you in the position
+envied of all Journals, viz.,--(_why_ do people put "viz.," and
+not "namely"?--it _is_ silly!) that of affording "information"
+given by no other Journal! All of which preamble means,--(by
+the way, why "pre-_amble_"?--if one is a speedy writer, why not
+"pre-_canter_"?)--that _Punch_, in the person of LADY GAY--(that _may_
+seem a little mixed, but it isn't)--was the _only_ Sporting Paper
+which tipped the winner of the Cesarewitch!
+
+For confirmation of this I refer the sceptical to my last week's
+letter, in which I stated that in dreaming of the race I dreamt that
+"_Burnaby came to the rescue_"--and if this is not giving the winner,
+I should like to know what is! It is true I made _Brandy_ my "verse
+selection," but that would only mislead the people who go no further
+than the surface (not of the brandy), as anyone who gave the matter a
+moment's thought would realise that Brandy is always applied _after_
+a rescue! I hear there was a "ton of money" for the winner just before
+the start, but I did not see anyone carrying it about, so I suppose it
+was what they call "covering money," which, I presume, is covered over
+for safety, as it would be risky to walk about a race-course with a
+ton of loose money--not that I suppose anyone who goes racing would
+touch it, but it _might_ be lost! Anyhow, there was a ton of money
+for the winner _after_ the race, which his owner _had_ to take,
+willy-nilly, or HOBSON's choice!
+
+The pleasantest feature of the meeting, however, was the re-appearance
+of H.R.H. the Prince of WALES, which was also pleasantly marked by one
+of his horses winning a race! The Public having anxiously "watched"
+for H.R.H., the success of _The Vigil_ was received with enthusiasm!
+
+Next week takes us to Gatwick and Sandown--(or rather the _train_
+takes us--another absurd expression)--the last day of the latter
+Meeting being devoted to "Jumping Races," which is the contemptuous
+way some people speak of the winter branch of our National
+Sport!--forgetting that it demands the two most desirable qualities
+in a horse, _speed and endurance_--whereas the modern flat-racing
+has degenerated, for the most part, into scrambles and gambles, where
+_speed_ is the only requisite!--but more of this anon--but _not_
+anonymous, as I believe in signed articles, as the apprentice said!
+(_Not_ BRADFORD!)
+
+The most important race at Gatwick--(_delightful_ place to go
+racing--lots of room to move about in)--is the Thousand Pound
+Handicap, in which race _Brandy_ is worth keeping an eye on, as she
+ought to beat _Burnaby_ at the difference in the weights--other horses
+that might make their mark during the week--(especially now the ground
+is soft)--are, _Pilot, Golden Garter_--(_I_ never was guilty of
+such extravagance as that)--_Queen of Navarre_--(_she_ might have
+been)--_Meadow Brown_, _Terror_, and _Seawall_, the last three in the
+"Jumping Races"--and, in conclusion, the inevitable rhythmical winner,
+from
+
+Yours devotedly, LADY GAY.
+
+ORLEANS NURSERY SELECTION.
+
+ The man who would back any other
+ Appears but a gander to be,
+ For the horse that all comers will smother
+ Is certainly _Tanderagee_!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: DIGNITY AND IMPUDENCE.
+
+"I SAY, GUV'NER! WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO BE TOOK DOWN FOR HALTERATIONS
+AND REPAIRS?"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+MY SEASON TICKET.
+
+ Ever against my breast,
+ Safe in my pocket pressed,
+ Ready at my behest,
+ Daintily pretty
+ Gilt-printed piece of leather,
+ Though fair or foul the weather,
+ Daily we go together
+ Up to the City.
+ Yet, as I ride at ease,
+ Papers strewn on my knees,
+ And I hear "Seasons, please!"
+ Shouted in warning:
+ Pockets I search in vain
+ All through and through again;
+ "Pray do not stop the train--
+ Lost it this morning.
+ No, I have not a card,
+ Nor can I pay you, Guard--
+ Truly my lot is hard,
+ This is the reason,
+ Now I recall to mind
+ Changing my clothes, I find
+ I left them all behind,--
+ Money, cards, 'Season.'"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+WRITTEN A HUNDRED YEARS HENCE.
+
+(_FROM A COLLECTION OF COMMUNICATIONS SUPPLIED BY OUR PROPHETIC
+COMPILER._)
+
+DEAR MR. PUNCH,--Pray protect the Griffin! Those Goths and Vandals,
+the Members of the Corporation of the City of London, will remove it,
+unless you intervene. This beautiful work of Art, that stands on the
+supposed site of the mythical Temple Bar, is to come down. What would
+our ancestors say if they were here? Would they not frown at their
+degenerate descendants? Every student of history knows that this
+Griffin was put up by universal consent, and considered one of the
+finest works of art of the nineteenth century. As, indeed, it was.
+It is full of historic memories. It was here that WELLINGTON met
+NAPOLEON after Waterloo; and here, again, was the Volunteer Movement
+inaugurated, when Mr. Alderman WAT TYLER, putting himself at the
+head of the citizens, called for "Three cheers for the Charter and
+the Anti-Corn-Law League!" The beautiful bas-reliefs that used to
+represent the occasions have disappeared, but their subjects are
+tenderly cherished. If the Corporation _must_ pull down something, let
+them destroy the recently-erected Mansion House! but spare, oh spare,
+the Griffin!
+
+Yours truly, A STUDENT OF THE LORE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY.
+
+_The Palace, Brixton_.
+
+DEAR MR. PUNCH,--It is time for a protest! One of the most beautiful
+erections of the nineteenth century (the old South Kensington Railway
+Station of the District Railway) is to be removed! Instead of the
+picturesque iron roof, we are to have some abomination in stone! Can
+this be? It is said to be falling to pieces under the ravages of Time.
+If this be really the case, why not let it be restored? There was no
+more picturesque outcome from the nineteenth century than these pretty
+arrangements in metal. The last generation swept them away by scores,
+by hundreds, by thousands--they did not even spare the Brompton
+Boilers! Let not such a reproach be applicable to us. We pride
+ourselves upon our love of Art and veneration for the antique and the
+beautiful, and yet we would pull down a building that for a century
+has been the admiration of all with a soul for Art and a mind for
+appreciating the sublimest efforts of genius in its highest sense!
+This must not be.
+
+_Burlington House_,
+
+Yours truly, A ROYAL ACADEMICIAN.
+
+_From_ 1 _to_ 1000, _Piccadilly._
+
+DEAR MR. PUNCH,--I have had the advantage of reading the above letters
+before publication, and am of opinion that they are not one whit
+more nonsensical than letters about the _Foudroyant_ and the Emmanuel
+Hospital that were printed early in the nineties. You may make what
+use you please of this communication.
+
+Yours respectfully, THE SPIRIT OF THE PAST.
+
+_The Earth (Branch Establishment, Mars and Jupiter)._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+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 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL.
+103, OCTOBER 22, 1892***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 15594.txt or 15594.zip *******
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