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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 103,
+December 24, 1892, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 103, December 24, 1892
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Francis Burnand
+
+Release Date: January 11, 2007 [EBook #20338]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by V. L. Simpson, Malcolm Farmer and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
+
+ VOL. 103.
+
+ DECEMBER 24, 1892.
+
+
+
+[Illustration: SNUBBING A DECADENT.
+
+_He._ "A--DON'T YOU FIND EXISTENCE AN AWFUL BORE?"
+
+_She._ "A--WELL, _SOME_ PEOPLE'S EXISTENCE--MOST DECIDEDLY!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+YULE-TIDE--OLD AND NEW.
+
+AT THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE CENTURY.
+
+And they made merry in the good old fashion. The pictures on the walls
+were covered with holly and mistletoe. They had come from British woods.
+Then the tables groaned with Christmas cheer. The baron of beef was
+flanked with plum-pudding and mince-pies. There never was a more jovial
+crew. The compliments of the season were passed round, and the Christmas
+Waits, singing their Christmas carols, were entertained right royally.
+For was it not a time of peace and good will? Then there was a mighty
+laugh. A huge joke had been perpetrated. Grandfather had been asleep,
+and he was telling the youngsters, who had been playing a round game,
+the character of his dream.
+
+"I give you my word it is true," said the old man. "Yes, I actually
+forgot it was Christmas!"
+
+"But it was only in your dreams, Grandpapa," urged one of his
+descendants.
+
+"Yes, but that was bad enough," cried the old man in a tone of
+self-reproach, "fancy forgetting Christmas--even in one's dreams!
+Everything seems changing nowadays!"
+
+But the Grandfather was wrong--the Christmas bills were unchangeable.
+And ever will be!
+
+
+AT THE END OF THE CENTURY.
+
+And certainly it was dull enough in all conscience. Nowadays everything
+is dull. Although it was towards the end of December, the room was
+decorated with summer flowers. They had come from Algeria. Then the
+side-table was spread with a _recherche_ repast, for they were all going
+to dine _a la Russe_. But the guests were sad and thoroughly bored. They
+had sent a policeman after the itinerant street-musicians, with the
+desired result. Inside and outside silence reigned triumphant. Was it
+not a time for "moving on" and threatening "six weeks without the option
+of a fine"?
+
+Then there was a deep groan. A young man--somebody's Grandson--suggested
+a round game. At first the suggestion was received with derision.
+
+"You can't get up a Missing Word Competition," said one. "No, my
+Grandson, you can't."
+
+"Can't I?" said the youngster, who had been called 'Grandson.' "Can't I?
+Look here, I will write out a Word, and I will bet you none of you will
+guess it."
+
+And "Grandson" wrote out a Word on a piece of paper, and sealed it in a
+packet. Then he called out the sentence, "The present season of the year
+is known as----"
+
+Then they all tried to guess it. Some one said "unfavourable," another
+"pleasant," a third "dreary," and a fourth "troublesome."
+
+But they all were wrong.
+
+At last the sealed-up packet was produced, and opened. For the first
+time there was a smile when the Word was known.
+
+"Who would have thought of it?" was the cry.
+
+The word chosen was "Christmas."
+
+"Fancy anyone remembering Christmas! Even for a Missing Word
+Competition! Everything seems changing nowadays!"
+
+But the Grandson was wrong--his Christmas bills were unchangeable. And
+ever will be!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+"ART COMPETITIONS."
+
+ "Since these competitions were started, the public had been educated
+ in artistic matters, and their judgment was almost equal to that of
+ the members of the Royal Academy."--_Mr. Poland's Speech in the
+ "Missing Word" case._
+
+ Mr. Poland said, at Bow Street,
+ Choosing pictures thus imparts
+ Judgment good as that of those treat-
+ Ed as foremost in the arts.
+
+ Hitherto each paid his shilling
+ At the House of Burling_ton_,
+ Gazed at pictures, feeble, thrilling,
+ Bad or good, and wandered on--
+
+ Stared with awe-struck admiration
+ At "the Picture of the Year,"
+ Gained artistic education
+ In a stuffy atmosphere.
+
+ Then all changed; he paid his shilling
+ And he sent his coupon in
+ To a weekly paper, willing
+ To discriminate the tin;
+
+ And be wisely praised or blamed, yet
+ He knew nothing of design,
+ The BRIDGE of Bow Street claimed yet
+ One more shilling as a fine.
+
+ Oh, rejoice, Academicians!
+ Learned BRIDGE knew what to do;
+ Artisans or mechanicians
+ Might have grown as wise as you.
+
+ Which would sadden any just man,
+ And might make an angel weep--
+ DICKSEE distanced by a dustman,
+ STOREY staggered by a sweep!
+
+ BOUGHTON beaten by a baker,
+ Housemaids humbling helpless HOOK;
+ STONE surpassed by sausage-maker,
+ COOPER conquered by a cook!
+
+ CROWE or CROFTS crushed by a cow-boy,
+ MILLAIS made by milkmen mad,
+ PETTIE plucked by any ploughboy,
+ LEIGHTON licked by butcher's lad!
+
+ It effected all you care for,
+ But Sir JOHN has pulled you through;
+ Bold Bow-Street's Beak is, therefore,
+ No Bridge of Sighs for you
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"A NOTE ON THE APPRECIATION OF GOLD."--Send a five-pound note (verified
+by the Bank of England) to our office, and we will undertake to get it
+changed _immediately_, and thereupon to hand over to the Bearer, in
+exchange for the note, _two golden sovereigns, and one golden
+half-sovereign, ready cash_. This will show what is _our_ appreciation
+of gold.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THE SKELETON AT THE FEAST.]
+
+"I confess it does seem to me that certain decisions made by a competent
+tribunal hare rendered it extremely doubtful whether there is a single
+one of the 670 gentlemen who now compose the House of Commons, who might
+not find himself, by some accident, unseated, if a full investigation
+were made into everything that had taken place in his constituency, say,
+during the ten years preceding his candidature."--_Mr. Balfour at
+Sheffield._
+
+_M.P. (of any Party you please), loquitur:--_
+
+ PHEW! It's all very fine, when you gather to dine,
+ And to blow off the steam, while you blow off your 'bacca,
+ (As the farmers of Aylesbury did, when their wine
+ Was sweetened with "news from the Straits of Malacca");
+ But things are much changed since the voters of Bucks
+ Flushed red with loud fun at the phrases of DIZZY,
+ And M.P.'s are dreadfully down on their lucks,
+ Since BALFOUR'S confounded "tribunals" got busy.
+
+ What precious stiff posers to loyal Primrosers
+ Are offered by Rochester, Walsall, and Hexham!
+ Platform perorators, post-prandial glosers,
+ Must find many points to perplex 'em and vex 'em.
+ It bothers a spouter who freely would flourish
+ Coat-tails and mixed tropes at political dinners,
+ When doubts of his safety he's driven to nourish,
+ Through publicans rash and (electoral) sinners.
+
+ Good lack, and good gracious! One may be veracious,
+ And look with disgust upon bribes and forced bias,
+ Yet owing to "Agents" more hot than sagacious,
+ _Appear_ as _Autolycus-cum_-ANANIAS.
+ One might just as soon be a Man-in-the-Moon,
+ Or hark back at once to the style of Old Sarum.
+ That Act (Corrupt Practices) may be a boon.
+ But the way they apply it seems most harum-scarum.
+
+ Should a would-be M.P. ask old ladies to tea,
+ Or invite male supporters to crumpets or cricket;
+ Should a snug Party Club prove a trifle too free,
+ Or give an equivocal "treat," or hat-ticket;
+ A seven years' nursing of Slopville-on-Slime,
+ A well-fought Election and Glorious Victory
+ (Crowed o'er by proud Party prints at the time)
+ May--lose you your Seat. It does seem contradictory.
+
+ Of course, my good friends, one would not say a word,
+ Against England's glory--Electoral Purity!
+ Suspect _me_ of slighting that boon? Too absurd!
+ But what good's a Seat without _some_ small security.
+ To fight tooth and nail, land a win, and then fail
+ Along of dishon--I mean o'er-zealous "Agents"--
+ Well, well, I don't wish at our Judges to rail,
+ But--putting it plainly--I fear it won't pay, gents.
+
+ 'Tis hard to attend a political feast,
+ And strut like a peacock, and crow like a bantam,
+ Yet feel at one's back, like a blast from the east,
+ A be-robed and be-wigged and blood-curdling law phantom.
+ Stentorian cheers, and uproarious hear-hears,
+ Though welcome, won't banish the sense of "wet-blanket"
+ (That's INGOLDSBY'S rhyme), when Petition-bred fears
+ Conjure up a grim Skeleton (Judge) at the Banquet!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: SUCH A HAPPY FAMILY PARTY--AT CHRISTMAS.
+
+_Uncle John_ (_losing his money and his temper_). "NOW, JANE, DO ME A
+FAVOUR FOR ONCE, AND _DON'T_ SHOW YOUR HAND!"
+
+_Aunt Jane_ (_whose best Cards her Partner has invariably
+over-trumped_). "I CAN'T HELP IT. YOU SHOW _YOUR_ HANDS, AND I'M SURE
+_THEY_'RE NO BEAUTIES!" [_After this, there's a prospect of a very
+pleasant evening._]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE SHORTEST DAY.
+
+ SHORT verse
+ We need,
+ Most terse
+ Indeed,
+ That it--
+ This lay--
+ May fit
+ This day.
+ Short sight
+ Of sun.
+ Long night,
+ Begun
+ At four,
+ Sunshine
+ Once more
+ At nine.
+ A. M.
+ Meets eyes
+ Of them
+ Who rise
+ If no
+ Fog hide--
+ Then woe
+ Betide;
+ The day
+ That ought
+ To stay
+ So short
+ A space
+ Can't show
+ Its face
+ Below.
+ But when
+ It goes,
+ Why then
+ One knows
+ New Year
+ Will soon
+ Be here--
+ Then June,
+ So bright!
+ So sweet!
+ So light!
+ We'll greet
+ The day
+ That's long
+ With gay,
+ Glad song--
+
+ Excessively long-footed verse will undoubtedly characterise what
+ we say,
+ For LONGFELLOW'S longest lines skip along when we've long longed
+ for the Longest Day.
+
+ (_Signed_) TOUCHSTONE.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ MILITARY MOTTO FOR THE NEW SOUTH LONDON OPHTHALMIC HOSPITAL OPENED
+ LAST FRIDAY BY THE DUKE OF YORK.--"Eyes right!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ THE CHOICE OF BOOKS.
+
+ To various opinions the quidnuncs give voice,
+ But the best "choice of books" means--the books of your choice.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE LAST WORD.
+
+(_A Domestic Drama of the Day before Yesterday._)
+
+
+SCENE.--_The Breakfast Room at Linoleum Lodge, the suburban residence
+of_ SAMUEL STODGEFORD, Esq. Mr. _and_ Mrs. STODGEFORD, _their son_
+PARMENAS, _and daughters_ POMPILIA _and_ PRISCILLA, _discovered at
+breakfast._
+
+_Mr. Stodgeford._ We shall probably get it by the second post, and
+though the delay is--ah--to some extent, annoying, we must not allow
+ourselves to be unduly impatient. Personally, I regard these--ah--weekly
+competitions as chiefly valuable in providing an innocent form of
+domestic recreation, and an interesting example of the--ah--value of
+words.
+
+_Parmenas S._ The value of _one_ word, I should say, Father. Last week,
+as there were very few who guessed right, it amounted to a considerable
+sum.
+
+_Mr. S._ That is a stimulant to ingenuity, no doubt, with some minds,
+but let us put that aside. We feel some natural curiosity to know
+whether we have selected the missing adjective, and I see no reason
+myself to doubt that our united efforts will this time be crowned with
+success.
+
+_Pompilia._ It is almost impossible that it won't be _one_ of the two
+hundred and fifty we sent in.
+
+_Parmenas._ I drew up a list of synonyms which, I flatter myself, was
+practically exhaustive.
+
+_Priscilla._ I dreamt I heard a voice saying quite clearly in my ear,
+"Nonsensical! nonsensical!"--like that--so I sent it in the first thing
+next morning.
+
+_Mr. S._ These--ah--supernatural monitions are not vouchsafed to us
+without a purpose. It _may_ be "nonsensical."
+
+_Mrs. S._ The only two words _I_ could think of were, "absurd" and
+"idiotic," and I'm afraid they haven't much chance.
+
+_Mr. S._ I wouldn't say that, SOPHRONIA. It is not always the most
+appropriate epithet that--let me run over the paragraph again--where is
+last week's paper? Ah, I have it. (_He procures it and reads with
+unction._) "The lark, as has been frequently observed by the poets, is
+in the habit of ascending to high altitudes in the exercise of his vocal
+functions. Scientific meteorologists, it is true, do not consider that
+there is any immediate danger of a descent of the sky, but many
+bird-catchers of experience are of opinion that, should such a
+contingency happen, the number of these feathered songsters included in
+the catastrophe would, in all probability, be simply----" It might be
+"idiotic," of course, but I fancy "incalculable," or "appalling" would
+be nearer the mark.
+
+_Parmenas._ Too obvious, _I_ should say. If you had adopted a few more
+of the words I got from _Roget's Thesaurus_, we should have been safer.
+Sending in a word like "disgusting" was sheer waste of one-and-twopence!
+And as for POMPILIA, with her synonyms to "sensational," and PRISCILLA,
+with her rubbishy superstition, depend upon it, _they_'re no good!
+
+_Pompilia._ You think you know so much, because you've been to London
+University--but _we've_ been to a High School; so we're not absolute
+_idiots_. PARMENAS!
+
+_Priscilla._ And I'm sure people have dreamt which horse was going to
+win a race over and over again!
+
+_Mr. S._ Come, come, let us have none of these unseemly disputes! And,
+when you compare a literary competition with--ah--a mere gambling
+transaction, PRISCILLA, you do a grave injustice to us all. You forget
+that we have, all of us, worked hard for success; we have given our
+whole thoughts and time to the subject. I have stayed at home from the
+office day after day. Your mother has had no leisure for the cares of
+the household; your brother has suspended his studies for his
+approaching examination, and your elder sister her labours at the East
+End--on purpose to devote our combined intelligence to the subject. And
+are we to be told that we are no better than the brainless multitude who
+speculate on horse-racing! I am not _angry_, my child, I am
+only--(_Enter_ ROBERT, _the_ Page, _with a paper in a postal wrapper.)
+Tiddler's Miscellany_--ha, at last! Why didn't you bring it up before,
+Sir? You must have known it was important!
+
+_Robert._ Please, Sir, it's on'y just come, Sir.
+
+_Mr. S. (snatching the paper from him, and tearing it open; the other
+members of the family crowd round excitedly)._ Now we shall see! Where's
+the place? Confound the thing! Why can't they print the result in
+a----(_His face falls._) What are you waiting for, Sir? Leave the room!
+
+[_To_ ROBERT, _who has lingered about the sideboard._
+
+_Robert._ Beg pardon, Sir, but would you mind reading out the
+Word--'cause I'm----
+
+_The Family._ Read the Word, Papa, do!
+
+_Mr. S. (keeping the Journal)._ All in good time. (_Addressing_ ROBERT.)
+Am I to understand, Sir, that you have actually had the presumption to
+engage in this competition?--an uneducated young rascal like you!
+
+_Robert._ I didn't mean no harm, Sir, I sent in nothink--it was on'y a
+lark, Sir!
+
+_The Family (dancing with suspense)._ Oh, never mind ROBERT now,
+Father--do read out the Word!
+
+_Mr. S. (ignoring their anxiety)._ If you sent in nothing, Sir, so much
+the better. But, in case you should be tempted to such a piece of
+infatuation in future, let me tell you this by way of--ah--warning. I
+and my family, have, with every advantage that superior education and
+abilities can bestow, sent in, after prolonged and careful deliberation,
+no less than two hundred and fifty separate solutions, and not a single
+one of these solutions, Sir, proves to be the correct one!
+
+_The Family (collapsing on the nearest chairs)._ Oh, it can't be
+true--one of them _must_ be right!
+
+_Mr. S._ Unfortunately, they are not. I will read you the sentence as
+completed. _(Reads.)_ "Should such a contingency happen, the number of
+these feathered songsters included in the catastrophe would, in all
+probability, be simply--ah--_nought_!" Now I venture to assert that
+nothing short of--ah--absolute genius could possibly----(_To_ ROBERT.)
+What do you mean by interrupting me, Sir?
+
+_Robert._ Please, Sir, _I_ said nothink, Sir!
+
+_Pompilia._ Oh, what _does_ it matter? Give me the paper, Papa. _(She
+snatches it.)_ Oh, listen to this:--"The number of solutions sent in was
+five hundred thousand, which means that twenty-five thousand pounds
+remain for division. The only competitor who gave the correct solution
+was Mr. ROBERT CONKLING, of Linoleum Lodge, Camberwell...." _Oh!_ Why,
+that's _you_, ROBERT!
+
+_Robert._ Yes, Miss, I told you I said "Nothink," Miss. I'm sure if I'd
+thought----
+
+_Mr. S. (gasping)._ Twenty-five thousand pounds! Ah, ROBERT, I trust you
+will not forget that this piece of--ah--unmerited good fortune was
+acquired by you under this humble roof. Shake hands, my boy!
+
+_Pompilia._ Wait, Papa--don't shake hands till I've
+done--_(continuing)--_"Mr. CONKLING, however, having elected to
+disregard our conditions, requiring the solution to be written out in
+full, and to express the word "Nought" by a cipher, we cannot consider
+him legally entitled to the prize----"
+
+_Mr. S._ How dare you use my private address for your illiterate
+attempts, Sir?
+
+_Prisc. (seizing the paper)._ Why don't you read it all?----"We are
+prepared, nevertheless, to waive this informality, and a cheque for the
+full amount of twenty-five thousand pounds, payable to his order, will
+be forwarded to Mr. CONKLING accordingly----"
+
+_Mr. S._ Well, ROBERT, you deserve it, I must say--shake
+hands!--I--ah--_mean_ it.
+
+_Robert._ Thankee, Sir, I'm sure--it was Cook and JANE 'elped me, Sir,
+but--(_dolefully_)--I sold my chanst to the butcher-boy, for tuppence
+and a mouth-orgin, Sir.
+
+[Illustration: "I sold my Chanst to the Butcher-boy!"]
+
+_Mr. S._ You unspeakable young idiot! But there, you will know better
+another time; and now go out at once, and order five hundred copies of
+_Tiddler_--a periodical which offers such intellectual
+and--ah--substantial advantages, deserves some encouragement. (_Exit_
+ROBERT.) Now Mother, PARMENAS, girls--all of you, let us set to work,
+and see--just for the--ah--fun of the thing--if we can't be more
+fortunate with the _next_ competition. We'll have Cook and JANE,
+and--ah--ROBERT in to help; the housework can look after itself for once
+... what is it _now_, PRISCILLA?
+
+_Prisc. (faintly)._ I've just seen this. (_Reads._) "In consequence of
+the recent decision at Bow Street, those who send solutions for this,
+and any future competitions, will not be required to forward any
+remittance with their coupons----"
+
+_Mr. S._ (_approvingly_). An admirable arrangement--puts a stop at once
+to any pernicious tendency to--ah--speculation!
+
+_Prisc._ (_continuing_)--"and successful competitors must, we fear, be
+content with no other reward than that of honourable mention."
+
+_Mr. S._ Here, send after ROBERT, somebody! It's scandalous that the
+precious time of a whole family should be frittered away in these
+unedifying and--ah--idiotic competitions. I will not allow another
+_Tiddler_ to enter my house!
+
+_Robert_ (_entering with his arms full of "Tiddlers"_). Please, Sir, I
+brought a 'undred, Sir, and they'll send up the rest as soon as ever
+they----Oh Lor, Sir, I on'y done as I was told, Sir!
+
+[_He is pounced upon, severely cuffed by a righteously indignant family,
+and sent flying in a whirlwind of tattered "Tiddlers," as the Scene
+closes._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+LAYS OF MODERN HOME.
+
+THE MUFFIN MAN.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ Ah! welcome, through autumnal mist,
+ For each returning ruralist,
+ Waif metropolitan, to list
+ Thy tinkle unto.
+
+ No sound of seas or bees or trees
+ Can Londoners so truly please--
+ The cheapest epicure with ease
+ Thy dainties run to.
+
+ They need not, like the fruits on sticks,
+ The fruits Venetian boyhood licks,
+ A voice with operatic tricks
+ Their praise to trumpet.
+
+ The simple bell shall, fraught with sense
+ Of teapot, urn, and hearth intense.
+ Best herald thee and thy commensurable
+ crumpet.
+
+ Lives there a cit with soul so dead
+ Who never to himself hath said,
+ "This is my crisp, my native-bred,
+ My British muffin!"?
+
+ Let picturesque Autolyci
+ Their cloying foreign dainties cry;
+ _I_ don't see much to buy, not I,
+ Such messy stuff in!
+
+ Mysterious vagrant, dost prepare
+ Thyself that inexpensive fare;
+ Thyself, partake of it--and _where?_--
+ The boon thou sellest?
+
+ 'Tis Home, where'er it be; thy load
+ Can cheer the pauper's dark abode,
+ And lack of it, with gloom corrode
+ The very swellest.
+
+ There are who deem it vulgar fun
+ For dressy bachelors to run
+ Themselves to stop thee; I'm not one
+ So nicely silly:
+
+ _I_'m not ashamed to track thy way,
+ And test the triumphs of thy tray,
+ And bring them back in paper, say,
+ To Piccadilly.
+
+ Yes, heedless of a gibing town,
+ To hand them PHYLLIS, sit me down,
+ And wait, till they come up in brown
+ And glossy sections.
+
+ Then, brew my cup--the best Ceylon--
+ And, bidding care and chill begone,
+ Concentre heart and mouth upon
+ Thy warm perfections.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+MONTECARLOTTERY.
+
+ [It remains true that for those who want a brief and exhilarating
+ change, and are glad to reap for the nonce the harvest of a quiet
+ eye, there are spots within the borders of England which, both in
+ climate and in scenery, can vie with the proudest and most vaunted
+ watering-places of the Sunny South."--_Daily Paper._]
+
+_Damon on the Riviera, to Pythias at Torquay._--"Here I am, by the blue
+Mediterranean! At least, the attendant of the sleeping-car says the
+Mediterranean is somewhere about, only, as a violent rain-storm is going
+on, we can't see it. Very tired by journey. Feel that, after all, you
+were probably right in deciding to try the coast of Devonshire this
+winter, instead of Riviera."
+
+_Pythias at Torquay, to Damon at Nice._--"Coast of Devonshire
+delightful, so far. Pleasant run down from London by G. W. R.--only five
+hours. Thought of and pitied your crossing to Calais, and long
+night-and-day journey after. You should just see our geraniums and
+fuchsias, growing out-of-doors in winter! Mind and tell me in your next
+how the olives and orange-trees look."
+
+_Damon to Pythias._--"Olives all diseased--have not seen an orange-tree
+yet--there is my reply to the query in your last. Hitherto I have not
+had much opportunity of seeing anything, as the mistral has been
+blowing, and it has been rather colder than England in March. Wretched
+cold in my head. No decent fires--only pine-cones and logs to burn,
+instead of coal! Wish I were at Torquay with you!"
+
+_Pythias to Damon._--"Sorry to hear that Riviera is such a failure. More
+pleased than ever with Devonshire. Glorious warm sunshine to-day.
+Natives say they hardly ever have frost. Children digging on sand on
+Christmas Eve--too hot for great-coat. Rain comes down occasionally, but
+then it dries up in no time. Quite a little Earthly Paradise. Glad I
+found it out."
+
+_Later from Damon._--"Riviera better. Mistral gone. Sun warm, and have
+seen my first orange-tree. Have also found that there's a place called
+Monte Carlo near Nice. Have you ever heard of it? There's a Casino
+there, where they have free concerts. Off there now!"
+
+_Later from Pythias._--"After all, Devonshire _is_ sometimes a little
+damp. Yes, I _have_ heard of Monte Carlo Casino, and I wish there was
+anything of the sort at Torquay. Walks and drives pretty, but
+monotonous. Hills annoying. Still, evidently far superior to any part of
+Riviera.
+
+_Still later from Damon._--"Glorious place, Monte Carlo. Superb grounds!
+Scenery lovely, and Casinery still lovelier! And, between ourselves, I
+have already more than paid for expenses of my trip by my winnings at
+the Tables. No time for more just now. Must back the red!"
+
+_Reply to above from Pythias._--"Very sorry to hear you have been
+playing at the Tables. Sure to end in ruin. By the bye, what system do
+you use? The subject interests me merely as a mathematical problem, of
+course. Wish _I_ could pay expenses of my Devonshire hotel so easily.
+But then one ought to have _some_ reward for visiting such a dreary
+place as the Riviera, with its Mistrals, and diseased olive-trees, and
+all that."
+
+_Latest from Damon._--"Since writing my last letter, my views of the
+Riviera have altered. The climate, I find, does not suit me. Sun doesn't
+shine as much as I expected--not at night, for instance. Then the
+existence of an olive disease anywhere near is naturally very
+_degoutant_ (as they say here). And the Casino at Monte Carlo is simply
+an organised swindle. It ought to be put down! After staking ten times
+in succession on "Zero," and doubling my stake each time, I was
+absolutely cleared out! Only just enough money to take me home. Shall
+follow your example, and try Torquay for the rest of the winter."
+
+_Latest from Pythias._--"Just a hasty line to say--_don't_ come to
+Torquay! I am leaving it. Since I last wrote, my views of Devonshire
+have also altered. Can't conceal from myself that the climate is a
+mistake. Damp, dull, and depressing. Your account of Monte Carlo--_not_
+the Casino, of course--so enchanting, that I've determined to try it.
+Just off to London to catch '_train de luxe!_'"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE MISSING WORD.
+
+(_By a much-badgered Barmaid._)
+
+ Each boobyish bar-lounger calls me "dear,"
+ And "Misses" me in manner most absurd.
+ I should not miss _him_! But the boss, I fear,
+ Would miss his custom; so I still must hear
+ His odious "Miss-ing" word!
+ But oh! I'd sooner bear a monkey's kisses,
+ Than some of these cheap mashers' mincing
+ "Misses"!
+ And there is one young ape!--I'd stand "two d"
+ Could I hit him each time he "Misses" me!
+
+ * * * * *
+
+QUEER QUERIES.
+
+[Illustration: Notes]
+
+AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL.--I should be glad to know whether it would be
+advisable for me to write a book of "Reminiscences," as I see is now the
+fashion. My life has been chiefly passed in a moorland-village in
+Yorkshire, so that it has not been very eventful, and I have never
+written anything before; still the public might like to hear my opinions
+on things in general, and I think I could make the anecdote of how our
+kitchen chimney once caught fire--which would be the most important
+incident chronicled--rather thrilling. Among interesting and eminent
+persons I have met, and of whom I could give some account in my
+forthcoming work, are Mr. GLADSTONE (who passed through our station in a
+train going at fifty miles an hour while I was on the platform), Lord
+SALISBURY whom I met (under similar circumstances, and the back of whose
+head I feel confident that I actually saw) and the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE of
+England, who ordered an Usher to remove me from his Court at the Assizes
+as I was (incorrectly) alleged to be snoring. I should be glad to hear
+of any leading Publisher who would be likely to offer a good price for
+such a book.--RUSTICUS EXPECTANS.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: PRIVATE THEATRICALS. A REHEARSAL.
+
+_The Captain._ "AT THIS STAGE OF THE PROCEEDINGS I'VE GOT TO KISS YOU,
+LADY GRACE. WILL YOUR HUSBAND MIND, DO YOU THINK?"
+
+_Lady Grace._ "OH NO! IT'S FOR A _CHARITY_, YOU KNOW!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"CHRISTMAS IS COMING!"
+
+ "Christmas _is_ coming!" Pleasant truth
+ To all--save the dyspeptic!
+ To most in whom some smack of youth
+ Hath influence antiseptic.
+ Pessimists prate, and prigs be-rate
+ The time of mirth and holly;
+ But why should time-soured sages "slate"
+ The juvenile and jolly?
+ "Though some churls at our mirth repine"
+ (As old GEORGE WITHER put it),
+ We'll whiff our weed, and sip our wine,
+ And watch the youngsters foot it.
+ They did so in quaint WITHER'S time,
+ When wassail-bowls were humming,
+ And still girls laugh, and church-bells chime,
+ Because--"Christmas is coming!"
+
+ "Christmas is coming!" Let him bring
+ Mirth to the toiling million.
+ What is't he bears--a gracious thing--
+ Behind him on the pillion?
+ Her snowy garb, and smile benign,
+ Make sunshine in dark places;
+ The gentlest, rarest, most divine
+ Of all the Christian graces.
+ Her eyes are full of loving light,
+ Her hands with gifts are laden;
+ True Yule-tide Almoner, of right,
+ This _Una_-pure sweet maiden!
+ She smiles on all, full-feeding mirth,
+ Young love, mad motley mumming;
+ There is loss dearth of joy on earth,
+ Because--"Christmas is coming!"
+
+ A Merry Christmas? Round each room
+ That's writ in leaf and berry;
+ But there be those, alas! to whom
+ There's mockery in the "Merry."
+ Merry?--when sorrow loads the heart,
+ And nothing loads the larder?
+ In the world's play the poor man's part
+ At Yule-tide seems yet harder.
+ Good cheer to him who hungry goes,
+ And mirth to her who sorrows,
+ Lend bitter chill to Christmas snows.
+ Small joy care's bondsman borrows.
+ From jollity he may not share,
+ Despair is darkly drumming
+ At his dull breast, whose hearth won't flare,
+ Because--"Christmas is coming!"
+
+ Good Greybeard Sire, you would not tire
+ Gay youth with tales of trouble;
+ World-gladness is your heart's desire,
+ And so you're--riding double!
+ Pleasant to see dear Charity
+ Close pillion-poised behind you,
+ Eager to bid her gifts fly free,
+ We're happy so to find you.
+ Ride on, and scatter largesse wide!
+ Sore need is still no rarity,
+ For all our Progress, Power, and Pride,
+ We can't dispense with Charity.
+ Ride on, kind pair, and may the air
+ With happiness be humming,
+ And poverty shake off despair,
+ Because--"Christmas is coming!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ RATHER TOO PREMATURE.--We see "_Christmas Leaves_" advertised
+ everywhere in glaring colours. This announcement is too early.
+ "_Christmas Comes_," it should be, and then, any time after the
+ 25th, will be appropriate for the announcement of his departure.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+THE PORTER'S SLAM.
+
+ [A meeting at Manchester has raised a protest against the nuisance
+ caused by the needlessly loud "slamming" of railway carriage doors.]
+
+ The porter has a patent "slam,"
+ Which smites one like a blow,
+ And everywhere that porter comes,
+ That "slam" is sure to go.
+ It strikes upon the tym-pa-num
+ Like shock of dynamite;
+ By day it nearly makes you dumb--
+ It deafens you at night.
+ When startled by that patent "slam,"
+ The pious pas-sen-jare,
+ Says something else that ends in "am,"
+ (Or he has patience rare.)
+ Not only does it cause a shock,
+ But--Manchester remarks--
+ "Depreciates the rolling stock,"
+ Well, that is rather larks!
+ _That_'s not the point. The porter's slam
+ Conduces to insanity,
+ And, though as mild as MARY's lamb,
+ Drives men to loud profanity.
+ If Manchester the "slam" can stay
+ By raising of a stir,
+ All railway-travellers will say,
+ "Bully for Man-ches-ter!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ _Kelly's Directory for_ 1893.--Invaluable, and considered as
+ "portable property" (to quote _Pip's_ friend), admirably suited for
+ the pocket of any individual who should happen to be about
+ twenty-five feet high. _How to use it?_ Why--see inside--it is full
+ of "Directions."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "CHRISTMAS IS COMING!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+MIXED NOTIONS.--No. II. UGANDA.
+
+SCENE--_As before, a Railway-carriage in a suburban morning train to
+London. Persons also as before--namely, two_ Well-informed Men, _an_
+Inquirer, _and an_ Average Man.
+
+_First Well-informed Man_ (_laying down his paper_). So the Government's
+going to stick to Uganda, after all. I had a notion, from the beginning,
+they wouldn't be allowed to scuttle.
+
+_Average Man._ Ah--I don't know that I'm particularly enthusiastic about
+Uganda.
+
+_Inquirer._ Why not?
+
+_A. M._ What are we going to get out of it?--that's the question. We go
+interfering all over the world, grabbing here, and grabbing there,
+merely in order to keep other people out; and then some nigger King,
+with a cold in his head, sneezes as he passes the Union Jack. That's an
+insult to the flag, of course; so off goes an expedition, and, before
+you know where you are, we've spent about ten millions, and added a few
+thousand acres of swamp to the Empire. Why can't we leave things alone?
+Haven't we got enough?
+
+_First W. I. M._ That's all very well, I daresay; but you forget that
+the Berlin Conference made Uganda one of our spheres of influence.
+
+_Inquirer._ When was that?
+
+_First W. I. M._ Why, just after the Franco-Prussian War. They all met
+in Berlin to settle up everything--and we got Uganda.
+
+_Inquirer._ I thought it was later than that, somehow.
+
+_First W. I. M._ Well, anyhow, it was somewhere about that time. I don't
+pledge myself to a year or two. But what I say about Uganda is this.
+We're there--or rather the Company is--and we should simply disgrace
+ourselves before the whole world if we chucked up the sponge now. And,
+if we did, we should have France or Germany nipping in directly.
+
+_Second W. I. M._ They can't.
+
+_First W. I. M._ Why not?
+
+_Second W. I. M._ Why not! Because it's our sphere of influence whatever
+happens.
+
+_Inquirer_ (_timidly_). I'm afraid you'll think me very ignorant, but I
+don't quite know what a "sphere of influence" is. I've read a lot about
+it lately, but I can't quite make it out.
+
+_Second W. I. M._ (_condescendingly_). Yes, I know it's deuced difficult
+to keep up with these new notions, unless you're in the way of hearing
+all about them. Spheres of influence mean--well, don't you know, they
+mean some country that's not quite yours, but it's more yours than
+anybody else's, and if anybody else comes into it, you're allowed to
+make a protocol of it. Besides, it gives you a right to the Hinterland,
+you know.
+
+_Inquirer_ (_dubiously_). Ah, I see. What's the Hinterland?
+
+_Second W. I. M._ (_stumped_). I fancy it's about the most fertile part
+of Africa. (_To First W. I. M._) Isn't it?
+
+_First W. I. M._ Yes, that's it. It's the German for Highlands.
+
+_Inquirer._ Of course, so it is. I might have thought of that.
+
+_Average Man_ (_to First W. I. M._). Seems to me you've none of you got
+hold of the right point. What I want to know is, does Uganda pay? LUGARD
+says it don't; the Company hasn't made anything of it, and they've got
+to go whether they like it or not; though I daresay they're deuced glad
+to be out of the hole. But, if it don't pay, what on earth are we going
+to do with it?
+
+_Second W I. M._ (_triumphantly reinforcing him_). Yes, what on earth
+are we to do with it?
+
+_First W. I. M._ (_calmly, but contemptuously_). Ah! I see you're both
+little-England men. From your point of view, I daresay you're right
+enough. But I'm one of those who believe that we must stick on wherever
+we've planted the flag. I agree with MOLTKE, that the nation that gives
+up is in a state of decay.
+
+_Second W. I. M._ It wasn't MOLTKE who said that; it was VICTOR HUGO, or
+(_after a pause_) Lord PALMERSTON.
+
+_First W. I. M._ Well, it doesn't matter who said it. The point is, it's
+true. Besides, what are you going to do about the slaves and the
+Missionaries?
+
+_Average Man._ Oh, bother the Missionaries!
+
+_First W. I. M._ It's all very well to say "bother the Missionaries!"
+but that won't get you any further. They're our fellow-creatures after
+all, and what's more, they're our fellow-countrymen, so we've got to
+look after them.
+
+_Average Man._ I should let the whole lot of Missionaries fight it out
+together. They only keep quarrelling amongst themselves, and trying to
+bag one another's converts; and then France and England get involved.
+
+_Inquirer._ By the way, where is Uganda, exactly?
+
+_First W. I. M._ Just behind Zanzibar--or somewhere about there. You can
+get to it best from Mashonaland. Didn't you see that RHODES said he was
+going to make a telegraph-line through there? It used to belong to the
+SULTAN OF ZANZIBAR. Don't you remember?
+
+_Inquirer._ Of course; so it did.
+
+[_Train draws up at Terminus._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: A SALVE FOR THE CONSCIENCE.
+
+_Vegetarian Professor._ "NO, MADAM, NOT EVEN FISH. I CANNOT SANCTION THE
+DESTRUCTION OF LIFE. THESE LITTLE ANIMALS, FOR INSTANCE, WERE BUT
+YESTERDAY SWIMMING HAPPILY IN THE SEA."
+
+_Mrs. O'Laughlan._ "OH BUT, PROFESSOR, JUST THINK IT'S THE FIRST TIME
+THE POOR LITTLE THINGS HAVE EVER BEEN REALLY WARM IN THEIR LIVES!"]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"'TWAS WHISPERED IN HEAVEN, 'TWAS MUTTERED IN H----." _A propos_ of the
+much-discussed article written by Dr. ST. GEORGE MIVART in _The
+Nineteenth Century_, on "Happiness in Hell."--begging pardon for
+uttering a word "unmentionable to ears polite,"--our old friend 'ARRY
+writes thusly:--"Sir,--We 'ave all of us been familiar for years with
+the well-known 'Mivart's 'Otel.' If the clever Professor is correct,
+this name ought to be changed, as there ain't no such a place; and, in
+future, when alluded to, it ought to be called _Mivart's Cool 'el._ Am I
+right?
+
+ "Yours truly, THE 'ARRY OPAGITE."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ In "Lucky Shoes," baskets, and in other dainty trifles, does RIMMEL
+ arrange his beautiful bottles of scent. RIMMEL is not a Head Centre,
+ but our Chief Scenter, "and," exclaims Mr. WAGSTAFF, the Unabashed,
+ "what a great day will be his Scentenary!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ "THE SILENT BATTLE."--See this charming piece at the Criterion. Of
+ course it is brought out by Mr. CHARLES WYNDHAM in illustration of
+ the old proverb, "_Acts, not words._"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: HAPPY AND NOVEL COMBINATION! THE HARMONIOUS CHRISTMAS
+"PARTY."]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+CHOOSING CHRISTMAS TOYS.
+
+(_A Sketch in the Lowther Arcade._)
+
+
+_Between the sloping banks of toys, and under a dense foliage of
+coloured rosettes, calico banners, and Japanese-lanterns, the congested
+Stream of Custom oozes slowly along, with an occasional overflow into
+the backwaters of the shops behind, while the Stall-keepers keep up a
+batrachian and almost automatic croak of invitation._
+
+_Fond Grandmother._ So you've chosen a box of soldiers, have you,
+FRANKY?--very well. Now what shall we get for little ELSIE and Baby?
+
+_Franky (promptly)._ Another box of soldiers would do nicely for ELSIE,
+Grandmamma, and--_I_ know, a fort for Baby!
+
+_Grandm. (doubtfully)._ But they're such _little_ tots--they won't know
+how to play with them.
+
+_Franky._ Oh, but I can _teach_ them, you know, Grandmamma.
+
+_Grandm._ That's right--I like to see a boy kind to his little sisters.
+
+[_She adopts_ Master FRANKY'S _disinterested suggestion._
+
+_A Mother._ Now, PERCY, it's all nonsense--you _can't_ want any more
+toys--those you've got are as good as new. (_To her Friend._) He's such
+a boy for taking care of his things--he'll hardly trust his toys out of
+their boxes, and won't allow anyone else to _touch_ them!
+
+_The Friend._ Dear little fellow--then I'm sure he _deserves_ to be
+given a new toy for being so careful!
+
+_The Mother._ Well, he'll give me no peace till I _do_ give him
+something. I know--but mind this, PERCY, it's only to keep you quiet,
+and I'm not going to buy EDDIE anything. _(To Friend.)_ He gives all
+_his_ things away as it is! [Master PERCY _takes both these valuable
+moral lessons to heart_.
+
+_Mrs. Stilton (to her less prosperous Sister-in-law_, Mrs. BLOOMOLD).
+Nonsense, VINNIE, I won't _hear_ of it! REGGIE has more toys already
+than he knows what to do with!
+
+_Mrs. Bloom. (apologetically)._ Of course, my dear SOPHIA, I know your
+children are born to every----but still, I have no one but myself
+_now_, you know--and if I _might_--it would be such a _pleasure_!
+
+_Mrs. Stilton._ I have already told you there is not the slightest
+occasion for your spending your money in any such foolish manner. I hope
+that is enough.
+
+_Mrs. Bloom._ I'm sure he would like one of these little
+water-carts--now _wouldn't_ you, REGGIE? [REGGIE _assents shyly_.
+
+_Mrs. Stilton._ Buy him one, by all means--he will probably take the
+colour out of my new carpets with it--but, of course, _that_'s of no
+consequence to _you_!
+
+_Mrs. Bloom._ Oh dear, I _quite_ forgot your beautiful carpets. No, to
+be sure, that might----but one of those little butcher's shops,
+now!--they're really _quite_ cheap!
+
+_Mrs. S._ _I_ always thought cheapness was a question of what a person
+could _afford_.
+
+_Mrs. Bloom._ But I _can_ afford it, dear SOPHIA--thanks to dear JOHN'S
+bounty, and--and _yours_.
+
+_Mrs. S._ You mustn't thank _me_. _I_ had nothing to do with it. I
+warned JOHN at the time that it would only----and it seems I was right.
+And REGGIE has a butcher's shop--a really good one--already. In fact, I
+couldn't tell you what he _hasn't_ got!
+
+_Reggie._ _I_ can, though, Aunt VINNIE. I haven't got a train, for _one_
+thing! (_To his Mother, as she drags him on._) I _should_ like a little
+tin train, to go by clockwork on rails so. Do let Auntie----what's she
+staying behind for?
+
+_Mrs. Bloom. (catching them up, and thrusting a box into_ REGGIE'S
+_hands)._ There, dear boy, there's your train--with Aunt VINNIE'S love!
+(REGGIE _opens the box, and discovers a wooden train_.) What's the
+matter, darling? Isn't it----?
+
+_Mrs. S._ He had rather set his heart on a clockwork one with
+rails--which I was thinking of getting for him--but I am sure he's very
+much obliged to his Aunt all the same--_aren't_ you, REGINALD?
+
+_Reggie (with a fortunate inspiration)._ Thank you _ever_ so much,
+Auntie! And I like this train better than a tin one--because all the
+doors open really--it's _exactly_ what I wanted!
+
+_Mrs. S._ That's so like REGGIE--he never says anything to hurt people's
+feelings if he can possibly help it.
+
+_Mrs. B. (with meek ambiguity)._ Ah, dear SOPHIA, you set him such an
+_example_, you see! (REGGIE _wonders why she squeezes his hand so_.)
+
+[Illustration: "Er--I want a Toy of some sort--for a _Child_, don't you
+know!"]
+
+_A Vague Man (to Saleswoman)._ Er--I want a toy of some sort--for a
+_child_, don't you know. (_As if he might require it for an elderly
+person._) At least, it's not _exactly_ a child--it can _talk_, and all
+that.
+
+_Salesw._ Will you step inside, Sir? We've a large assortment within to
+select from. Is it for a boy or a girl?
+
+_The Vague Man._ It's a boy--that is, its name's EVELYN--of course,
+that's a girl's name too; but it had better be some thing that
+doesn't--I mean something it can't----[_He runs down._
+
+_Salesw._ I _quite_ understand, Sir. One of these little 'orses and
+carts are a very nice present for a child--(_with languid
+commendation_)--the little 'orse takes out and all.
+
+_The V. M._ Um--yes--but I want something more--a different _kind_ of
+thing altogether.
+
+_Salesw._ We sell a great many of these rag-dolls; all the clothes take
+off and on.
+
+_The V. M._ Isn't that rather----and then, for a boy, eh?
+
+_Salesw._ P'raps a box of wooden soldiers _would_ be a more suitable toy
+for a boy, certainly.
+
+_The V. M._ Soldiers, eh?--yes--but you see, it might turn out to be a
+girl after all--and then----
+
+_Salesw._ I see, you want something that would do equally well for
+either. _Here_'s a toy now. (_She brings out a team of little tin swans
+on wheels._) You fix a stick in the end--so--and wheel it in front of
+you, and all the little swans go up and down.
+
+[_She wheels it up and down without enthusiasm._
+
+_The V. M. (inspecting it feebly)._ Oh--the swans go up and down, eh? It
+isn't quite--but very likely it won't--May as well have that as
+something else--Yes, you can send it to--let me see--is it Hampstead or
+Notting Hill they're living at now? (_To the_ Saleswoman, _who naturally
+cannot assist him._) No, of course, _you_ wouldn't know. Never mind,
+I'll take it with me--don't trouble to wrap it up!
+
+[_He carries it off--to forget it promptly in a hansom._
+
+_A Genial Uncle (entering with Nephews and Nieces)._ Plenty to choose
+from here, eh? Look about and see what you'd like best.
+
+_Jane (the eldest, sixteen, and "quite a little woman")._ I'm sure they
+would much rather _you_ chose for them, Uncle!
+
+_Uncle._ Bless me, _I_ don't know what boys and girls like
+nowadays--they must choose for themselves!
+
+_Salesw. (wearily)._ Perhaps one of the young gentlemen would like a
+dredging-machine? The handle turns, you see, and all the little buckets
+go round the chain and take up sand or mud--or there's a fire-engine,
+_that's_ a nice toy, throws a stream of real water.
+
+[TOMMY, _aged eleven, is charmed with the dredging-machine, while the
+fire-engine finds favour in the eyes of_ BOBBY, _aged nine._
+
+_Jane (thoughtfully)._ I'm afraid the dredging-machine is rather a
+_messy_ toy, Uncle, and the fire-engine wouldn't do at all, either--it
+would be sure to encourage them to play with fire. BOBBY, if you say
+"blow!" once more, I shall tell Mother. Uncle is the best judge of
+what's suitable for you!
+
+_Uncle._ Well, there's something in what you say, JENNY. We must see if
+we can't find something better, that's all.
+
+_Salesw._ I've a little Toy-stige, 'ere--with scenes and characters in
+"_Richard Cured o' Lyin'_" complete and ready for acting--how would that
+do?
+
+[TOMMY _and_ BOBBY _cheer up visibly at this suggestion._
+
+_Jane._ I _don't_ think Mother would like them to have _that_, Uncle--it
+might give them a _taste_ for theatres, you know!
+
+_Uncle._ Ha--so it might--very thoughtful of you, JANE--Mustn't get in
+your Mother's bad books; never do! What's in these boxes? soldiers? How
+about these, eh, boys? [_The boys are again consoled._
+
+_Jane (gently)._ They're getting _rather_ too big for such babyish
+things as soldiers, Uncle! I tell you what _I_ think--if you got a nice
+puzzle-map for TOMMY--he's so backward in his Geography--and a drawing
+slate for BOBBY, who's getting on so nicely with his drawing, and a
+little work-box--not an _expensive_ one, of course--for WINNIE, that
+would be _quite_----
+
+[_These sisterly counsels are rewarded by ungrateful and rebellious
+roars._
+
+_Uncle._ TOMMY, did I hear you address your sister as a "beast"?
+Come--come! And what are you all turning on the waterworks for, eh?
+Strikes me, JANE, you haven't _quite_ hit off their tastes!
+
+_Jane (virtuously)._ I have only told you what I know Mother would
+_wish_ them to have, Uncle; and, even if I _am_ to have my ankles kicked
+for it, I'm sure I'm right!
+
+_Uncle._ Always a consolation, my dear JENNY. I'm sure no nephew of
+_mine_ would kick his sister, except by the merest accident--so let's
+say no more of that. But it's no use getting 'em what they don't like;
+so suppose we stick to the fire-engine, and the other concern--theatre
+is it, JOHNNY?--Very well--and don't you get _me_ into trouble over 'em,
+that's all. And WINNIE would like a doll, eh?--that's all right. Now
+everybody's provided for--except JANE!
+
+_Jane (frostily)._ Thank you, Uncle--but you seem to forget I'm not
+_exactly_ a child! [_She walks out of the shop with dignity._
+
+_Uncle._ Hullo! Put my foot in it again! But we can't leave JENNY out of
+it--_can_ we? Must get her a present of some sort over the way.... Here,
+TOMMY, my boy, you can tell me something she'd like.
+
+_Bobby (later--to_ TOMMY). What did you tell Uncle to get for JANE?
+
+_Tommy (with an unholy chuckle)._ Why, a box with one of those
+puff-things in it. Don't you know how we caught her powdering her nose
+with Mother's? And Uncle _got_ her one too! _Won't_ she be shirty just!
+
+[_They walk out in an ecstasy of anticipation, as Scene closes._
+
+ * * * * *
+
+MR. PUNCH'S Paragraphist says, "he was never good at dates," not even
+when served in dishes, for they're dry at the best; but, of the very
+newest and best kind of Date Cards, MARCUS WARD & Co. have a capital
+selection. Among them the _Grandfather's Clock_ makes a pretty screen,
+and, being a clock, is, of course, always up to the time of day.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+ The Baron's Diarist and Date Examiner makes the following exhaustive
+ notes:--first that Mr. C. LETTS describes some of his _Pocket
+ Diaries_ as "The Improved." There is nothing so good but what it
+ could be better. Lett's admit this, and be satisfied with the latest
+ edition of Letts' Annuals, which are prizes, though, until Jan. 1,
+ blanks.
+
+ _The Paradise of the North_, by DAVID LAWSON JOHNSTONE. When a
+ gentleman chooses the North Pole as a Paradise, he must be allowed
+ any amount of Latitude and Longitude. This explorer leaves his
+ CHAMBERS (the Publishers of that ilk) in order to get out of the
+ world by the coldest route.
+
+ A note on INNES & Co. "Innes" has several Outs this season. Cheery
+ name for a Christmas Publisher, "Innes." We take our ease at our
+ Innes, and we read with pleasure their dainty books called,
+ _Bartlemy's Child_, by FRANCES COMPTON, a very pretty story. L. B.
+ WALFORD (the authoress of _Mr. Smith_) condescends to write _For
+ Grown-Up Children_, a number of delightful tales.
+
+ Messrs. OSGOOD as good as ever. Why not follow up their _Bret Harte
+ Birthday Book_ (most Harte-tistically got up) with a _Sweet-Heart
+ Birthday Book?_ Madame VAN DE VELDE has compiled this. Our
+ sparklingest Baronite exclaims, "Velde done!"
+
+ Thanks to MARCUS WARD & Co. for _The Cottar's Saturday Night_, by
+ ROBBIE BURNS. "Oh, wad some friend the giftie gi'e us!"--as anyone
+ who would like this for a Christmas present may say, adapting the
+ poet to his purpose.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: The Baron and his Christmas Books.]
+
+"A most sweet story! A most charming story!!" gurgled the Baron, as,
+with sobs in his inner voice, talking to himself, he finished the
+penultimate chapter of _Dolly_. "Now, Mrs. BURNETT, if you dare to kill
+your heroine, I swear I'll never forgive you, and never read another of
+your fatally-fascinating books." The Baron trembled as he commenced the
+last chapter of the simplest, most natural, most touching, and most
+exquisitely-told story he has read for many a day. How would it end? A
+few lines sufficed. "Bless you, Mrs. BURNETT!" snivelled the Baron, not
+ashamed of dabbing his eyes with his kerchief. "Bless you, Ma'am! You
+have let 'em live! May your new book go to countless editions! May it be
+another _Little Lord Fauntleroy_, and may you reap a golden reward for
+this, your masterpiece of simple work, your latest story--_Dolly!_" The
+Baron is bound ("bound in morocco" as the slaves were, poor wretches!)
+to add that he wishes it had not been illustrated, for, as good wine
+needs no bush, so a perfect story, such as is this, needs no
+illustration; nay, is rather injured by it than not. There is only one
+small item of common-place in it, and that is making the would-be
+seducer a married man. Of course, to prove him so was the easiest and
+shortest way of saving his vain and feather-headed little victim.
+Perhaps an alternative would have involved complication, and might have
+marred the natural simplicity of the story. So critically the Baron
+states his one very small objection, and reverts with the utmost
+pleasure to the hours he spent over the tale, absorbed in every page, in
+every line of it; and herewith doth he, not only most strongly, but most
+earnestly recommend everyone to procure this book (published by E. WARNE
+& Co.), for it is one that can be and must be given a place of honour by
+the side of DICKENS and THACKERAY, to be read again and again, here a
+bit and there a bit, when other works of fiction now enjoying a greater
+literary reputation (though 'twould be difficult to name them), shall be
+relegated to the lowest shelves of books that have had their day.
+"_Dixi! Scripsi!_" quoth THE LEARNED BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed
+Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be
+returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope,
+Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume
+103, December 24, 1892, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
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