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diff --git a/22671-h/22671-h.htm b/22671-h/22671-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3322d6e --- /dev/null +++ b/22671-h/22671-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2058 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> + + <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, April 8, 1893.</title> + + + <style type="text/css"> + + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + p.center {text-align: center;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + td {padding-left: 1em;} + td.note {text-align: left;font-size: 0.9em; font-weight: normal; border: 1px dashed; padding: 1em;} + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%; margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%; margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + .note, .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + + span.pagenum {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + .drama {margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .drama p {margin: 1em 0em 0em 0em;; padding-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em;} + .drama p.i2 {margin: 0; margin-left: 1em;} + .drama p.i4 {margin: 0; margin-left: 2em;} + .drama p.i6 {margin: 0; margin-left: 3em;} + .drama p.i8 {margin: 0; margin-left: 4em;} + .drama p.i10 {margin: 0; margin-left: 5em;} + + .figure, .figcenter, .figright, .figleft + {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img, .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img + {border: none;} + .figure p, .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p + {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + .figright1 {margin-left:1em; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; float: right; border: 1px solid;} + .figleft {float: left;} + + .inline {border: none; vertical-align: middle;} + + p.author {text-align: right;} + p.author1 {text-align: right; margin-right: 20%;} + + .side { float:right; + font-size: 75%; + width: 25%; + padding-left:10px; + border-left: dashed thin; + margin-left: 10px; + text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; + font-weight: bold; + font-style: italic;} + + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, +April 8, 1893, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, April 8, 1893 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis Burnand + +Release Date: September 19, 2007 [EBook #22671] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Lesley Halamek, Juliet Sutherland and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + <hr class="full" /> + + +<h1>PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + +<h2>Volume 104, April 8th 1893</h2> +<h3>edited by Sir Francis Burnand </h3> + + <hr class="full" /> + + <span class="pagenum"><a name="page157" id="page157"></a>[pg 157]</span> +<h2>SPORTING ANSWERS.</h2> + +<h3>ANGLING.</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">Fleacatcher.</span>—Yes, the trout in the river +Itching (this is the only correct spelling) +are red, and, before they are boiled, raw. +The best method of catching them is to tickle +them. When you have hooked an Itching +trout, you first scratch him, and then cook +him.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Novice.</span>—We only knew one man who could +make a decent rod, and he +died twenty years ago. +Remember the old adage +so dear to <span class="sc">Izaak</span>, <i>Qui parcit +virgæ spoliat puerum</i>. For +instructions as to use of +implement, and translation +of Latin, apply to any +head-master. Failure in +the latter will inevitably +lead to application of the +former. Then pause for +reflection, but <i>don't sit +down</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Spook.</span>—What on earth +is the use of applying to +us about a phantom? We +never keep one on the +premises. Try personal +interview with <span class="sc">W. T. +Stead</span>, who has a fine +selection, <span class="sc">Julia</span> being +specially effective. Why +do you ask if we generally +spin? Not having been +born a top, we prefer walking.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Contemplative.</span>—(1) It's +absolutely useless offering +us these paltry inducements +to betray the secrets +of our skill. We are—we +hope we may say it without +undue pride—an All-Round +Angler, and we are +not going to be squared by +a bait of that kind. (2) +We have never pretended +we were a salmon. If +<span class="sc">Andrew Lang</span> says we +have, we challenge him to +repeat it to our face before +witnesses. (3) Whitebait +are no longer kept in the +Round Pond at Kensington. +We knew as many as four +there ten years ago.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Calipee.</span>—You are quite +right. When a ship turns +turtle the fact is instantly +communicated to the Lord +Mayor and Aldermen of +the City of London. They +proceed to the spot in the +<i>Maria Wood</i>, and the one +who secures the interesting saurian is allowed +to eat all the green fat. With you we hope +devoutly that the time is far distant when +the desecrating hand of a Socialistic Government +will be allowed to lay a finger on these +ancient civic customs. No. The Fishmongers' +Company do not sell fish. Their motto is, +<i>Edo, non vendo</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Acton Est.</span>—<i>The Cornhill Magazine</i> for +this month has an interesting article on +"Actors and Actresses in Westminster +Abbey," not seen there much when alive, +but there for good after their decease. It +is stated of Mrs. <span class="sc">Barry</span> that she was not +interred in the Abbey, as has been, it appears, +generally supposed, but found her resting-place +at Acton. Odd, that when she had +ceased to act, she should be sent to Act-on!</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/157.png"><img width="100%" src="images/157.png" alt="'TAKE CARE OF THE PENCE, AND THE POUNDS,' &c." /></a> +<h4>"TAKE CARE OF THE PENCE, AND THE POUNDS," &c.</h4> + +<p><i>Muriel.</i> "<span class="sc">Mamma, what have you got the Carriage out for so late? +Where <i>are</i> you going?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Goldie.</i> "<span class="sc">Now, Muriel, you know how your Father keeps worrying +about Extravagance, and of course I must set an Example. So I'm going +to the Public Library to see the Evening Paper!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE CRY OF THE CUE-IST.</h3> +<h4>(<i>To the Champion, by a Discouraged Competitor.</i>)</h4> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Break, break, break,</p> +<p class="i2">On the smooth green board, O <span class="sc">John</span>!</p> +<p>And I would civil words could utter</p> +<p class="i2">My thoughts, as the game goes on!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>O well for the three-figure runs</p> +<p class="i2">You have made since we opened play!</p> +<p>O ill for my nine thousand start,</p> +<p class="i2">Which you're lessening day by day!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And the marvellous shots go on</p> +<p class="i2">To your score, which is mounting still!</p> +<p>But O for a touch of that wondrous hand,</p> +<p class="i2">And a slice of that startling skill!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Break, break, break!</p> +<p class="i2"><i>There's</i> a shot! Great Scott! O, see!</p> +<p>What tender grace! And if once ahead</p> +<p class="i2">You will never "come back" to me!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +"<span class="sc">Epsom Spring Meeting.</span>"—In former +times this used to be a fashionable rendezvous +for invalids who went there to drink +the beneficial waters of the Epsom Spring. +Now there is not much water taken at these +Spring Meetings; and what water is taken +is not "an unmixed good." +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p> +<span class="sc">A Lesson in "Book-keeping.</span>"—Never +lend one. +</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<h3>AFTER THE VOLUNTEER REVIEW.</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">Scene</span>—<i>An Office.</i> <span class="sc">Brown</span> <i>and</i> <span class="sc">Jones</span> +<i>discovered +talking over the incidents of the +recent holiday.</i></p> + +<p><i>Brown.</i> Yes; I was up at six on the +Monday.</p> + +<p><i>Jones.</i> Well, you were in luck; for I had +to be ready by four. The battalion had to +be drawn up at the station by 4·45.</p> + +<p><i>Brown.</i> To be sure. You went down before +we did.</p> + +<p><i>Jones.</i> Yes. I wish we +had got some coffee before +starting.</p> + +<p><i>Brown.</i> But you had +your breakfast on your +arrival, didn't you?</p> + +<p><i>Jones.</i> Yes, to be sure; +but as we were a bit late, +it was rather a scramble.</p> + +<p><i>Brown.</i> Well, of course +one has to get on to parade as +soon as possible. We cut it +rather fine too. But that's +the case with all of us.</p> + +<p><i>Jones.</i> To be sure; and +if you lose time at one +end, you must make up for +it at the other—that stands +to reason. And how did +you get on?</p> + +<p><i>Brown.</i> First rate. We +were on the march from +nine to five.</p> + +<p><i>Jones.</i> So were we; and +didn't have time scarcely +to get to our havresacks.</p> + +<p><i>Brown.</i> Just our fortune. +Always on the move. I +wore out my leathers in +fine style.</p> + +<p><i>Jones.</i> So did I. And +then we had to go back to +the train before we could +get any dinner.</p> + +<p><i>Brown.</i> My fate too. +And, when I got home, the +slavey had forgotten to lay +supper!</p> + +<p><i>Jones.</i> So had mine. +But still it was a glorious +holiday—now, wasn't it?</p> + +<p><i>Brown.</i> I should say it +was! A glorious holiday!</p> + +<p>[<i>They return to their ledgers</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>QUEER QUERIES.</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">Abscondrelism.</span>—I +belong to a Building +Society. At present the +concern is exceptionally +prosperous, and I have no +reason to suppose that the +Directors and Manager are +not scrupulously honest. Still, it is as well +to be prepared for all eventualities, and, as a +couple of years seems to be about the time +required by the authorities before they can +make up their minds to prosecute anybody, +I should like to know if I could apply for a +warrant against the officials of my Society +<i>at once</i>, so as to have everything ready in +case any of them should develop fraudulent +tendencies a few years hence? Would there +be any objection to this? Perhaps some legal +reader would reply. Also, is it a fact that +Messrs. <span class="sc">Balbert and Hurlfour</span> have started +a model Colony, on entirely new and philanthropic +lines, in Mexico, and are inviting +English settlers (unconnected with the +"Liberator" Society) to join them there, +the prospectus of the scheme being headed:—"By +kind permission of the Public Prosecutor"?—<span class="sc">Prophylactic</span>.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page158" id="page158"></a>[pg 158]</span> + +<hr /> + +<h3>HER "DAY OF REST."</h3> + +<h4>(<i>The Song of the Shop-Girl.</i>)</h4> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100%;"> +<a href="images/158.png"><img width="100%" src="images/158.png" alt="As one poor shop-girl said:—'After the fatigue and worry of the week...." /></a> +<p>"As one poor shop-girl said:—'After the fatigue and worry of +the week, I am so thoroughly worn out, that my only thought is to rest on a +Sunday; but it goes too quickly, and the other days drag on so slowly!'"—<i>Quoted by +Sir John Lubbock in the recent Debate on Early Closing for Shops.</i></p> +</div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">Eight o'clock strikes!</p> +<p class="i6">The short day's sped,—</p> +<p>My Day of Rest! That beating in my head</p> +<p>Hammers on still, like coffin-taps. He likes,</p> +<p>Our lynx-eyed chief, to see us brisk and trim</p> +<p>On Monday mornings; and though brains may swim,</p> +<p>And breasts sink sickeningly with nameless pain,</p> +<p><i>He</i> cannot feel the faintness and the strain,</p> +<p>And what are they to him?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">This morning's sun peeped in</p> +<p class="i6">Invitingly, as though to win</p> +<p>My footsteps fieldwards, just one day in seven!</p> +<p>The thought of hedgerows was like opening heaven,</p> +<p class="i6">And the stray sunray's gleam,</p> +<p class="i4">Threading the dingy blind,</p> +<p class="i6">Seemed part of a sweet dream,</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page159" id="page159"></a>[pg 159]</span> +<p>For in our sleep the Fates <i>are</i> sometimes kind.</p> +<p>"Come out!" it said, "but not with weary tread,</p> +<p class="i6">And feet of lead,</p> +<p>The long, mud-cumbered, cold, accustomed way,</p> +<p>For the great Shop is shuttered close to-day,</p> +<p class="i4">And you awhile are free!"</p> +<p><i>Free?</i> With a chain of iron upon my heart,</p> +<p>That drags me down, and makes the salt tears start!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Oh, that inexorable weariness</p> +<p>That through the enfeebled flesh lays crushing stress</p> +<p class="i2">On the young spirit! Young? There is no youth</p> +<p class="i2">For such as I. It dies, in very truth,</p> +<p>At the first touch of the taskmaster's hand.</p> +<p>A doctrine hard for you to understand,</p> +<p class="i2">Gay sisters of the primrose path,</p> +<p>Whose only chain is as a flowery band.</p> +<p class="i2">The toil that outstays nature hath</p> +<p>A palsying power, a chilling force</p> +<p>Which freezes youth at its fresh source.</p> +<p class="i4">Only the Comus wand</p> +<p>Of an unhallowed Pleasure offers such</p> +<p>Freedom, and with pollution in its touch.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">The languid lift</p> +<p>Of head from pillow tells us the good gift</p> +<p>Of Sabbath rest is more than half in vain.</p> +<p class="i2">Tired! Tired! In flesh, bone, brain,</p> +<p class="i2">Heart, fancy, pulse, and nerve!</p> +<p>Such is our doom who stand and serve</p> +<p>The unrewarding public, thoughtless they</p> +<p class="i2">Of slaves whose souls they slay!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Oh, that long standing—standing—standing yet!</p> +<p>With the flesh sick, the inmost soul a-fret,</p> +<p class="i2">Pale, pulseless patiences, our very sex,</p> +<p>That should be a protection, one more load</p> +<p class="i2">To lade, and chafe, and vex.</p> +<p>No tired ox urged to tramping by the goad</p> +<p class="i2">Feels a more mutely-maddening weariness</p> +<p>Than we white, black-garbed spectral girls who stand</p> +<p>Stonily smiling on while ladies grand,</p> +<p class="i2">Easily seated, idly turn and toss</p> +<p class="i2">The samples; and our Watcher, 'neath the gloss</p> +<p>Of courtly smugness glaring menace, stalks</p> +<p>About us, creaking cruelty as he walks.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Stand! Stand! Still stand!</p> +<p class="i4">Clenched teeth and clutching hand,</p> +<p>Swift blanching cheek, and twitching muscle, tell</p> +<p>To those who know, what <i>we</i> know all too well,</p> +<p class="i4">Ignored by Fashion, coldly mocked by Trade.</p> +<p class="i4">Are we not for the sacrifice arrayed</p> +<p>In dainty vesture? Pretty, too, they say</p> +<p>Male babblers, whom our sufferings and poor pay</p> +<p class="i4">Might shock, could they but guess</p> +<p class="i4">Trim figure and smart dress</p> +<p>Cover and hide, from all but doctor-ken,</p> +<p>Disease and threatening death. Oh! men, men, men!</p> +<p class="i2">You bow, smile, flatter—aught but <i>understand</i>!</p> +<p class="i6">Long hours lay lethal hand</p> +<p>Upon our very vitals. Seats might save</p> +<p class="i6">From an untimely grave,</p> +<p>Hundreds of harried, inly anguished girls;</p> +<p><i>You</i> see—their snow-girt throats and neatly-ordered curls!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4">Out to the green fields? Nay,</p> +<p class="i4">This all too fleeting day</p> +<p>To rest is dedicate. But not the rest</p> +<p>Of brightened spirit, and of lightened breast.</p> +<p>The dull, dead, half-inanimate leaden crouch</p> +<p>Of sheer exhaustion on this shabby couch</p> +<p class="i4">Is all my week's repose.</p> +<p class="i4">Read? But the tired eyes close,</p> +<p class="i2">The book from nerveless fingers drops;</p> +<p class="i4">Almost the slow heart stops.</p> +<p>But the clock halts not on its restless round.</p> +<p>Weariness shudders at the whirring sound,</p> +<p class="i4">As the sharp strike declares</p> +<p class="i4">Swift to its closing wears</p> +<p>One more of those brief interludes from toil</p> +<p>Which leave us still the labour-despot's spoil,</p> +<p class="i2">Slaves of long hours and unrelaxing strain,</p> +<p class="i2">Unstrengthened and unsolaced, soon again</p> +<p class="i2">To tread the round, and lift the lengthening chain;</p> +<p><i>Stand</i>—till hysteria lays its hideous clutch</p> +<p>On our girl-hearts, or epilepsy's touch</p> +<p class="i2">Thrills through tired nerves and palsied brain.</p> +<p class="i6">Again—again—again!</p> +<p><i>How long?</i> Till Death, upon its kindly quest,</p> +<p class="i4">Gives a true Day of Rest! +</p> + </div> </div> +<br /> +<hr /> + +<div class="figright1" style="width:20%;"><h3>EASTER MANŒUVRES.</h3> + +<a href="images/159.png"><img width="100%" src="images/159.png" alt="BACCHUS ON A BICYCLE!" border="0" /></a> +<h4>BACCHUS ON A BICYCLE!</h4> + +<h4>(<span class="sc">A "Safety" too!!</span>)</h4> + +<p><i>This incident repeated itself to infinity from the +East End to Hammersmith and back!!</i></p> +</div> + + + +<p><span class="sc">Royal Rewards to Good Players</span>.—"As +a sequel to the performance of <i>Becket</i> at +Windsor, Mr. <span class="sc">Irving</span>"—as we were informed +by the <i>Daily News</i>—"was presented by the +<span class="sc">Queen</span> with a stud." What will he do with +the stud? Will he take to the turf, go racing, +and keep the stud at some Newmarket +training-stables? Perhaps "the stud" consisted +of fifty "ponies"—but this is a purse-an'-all +matter, into which we are not at +liberty to inquire. Miss <span class="sc">Ellen Terry</span> received +a brooch from <span class="sc">Her Majesty</span>, on +which are the letters "V.R.I." Our <span class="sc">'Arry</span> +says these initials signify "<i>Ve Are 'I</i>ghly +pleased." Or, taking the two presents together, +as speaking, V.R.I, might mean, says +<span class="sc">'Arry</span>, "<i>Ve R-Ived safely</i>."</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>LION AND LAMB.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +["I think that when we consider an Opposition, +in which Lord <span class="sc">Salisbury</span> and Mr. <span class="sc">Chamberlain</span> +pacifically sit down—or lie down, together, we +need not, ourselves, feel very sensitive on the +subject of homogeneity."—<i>Mr. Gladstone at the +F. O. Liberal Meeting.</i>] +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Solly had a little Lamb,</p> +<p class="i2">From Brummagem you know!</p> +<p>And wheresoever <span class="sc">Solly</span> went</p> +<p class="i2">That Lamb was bound to go.</p> +<p>The Lion and the Lamb in fact!</p> +<p class="i2">And what could be more jolly?</p> +<p>Yet some <i>do</i> whisper that—sometimes—</p> +<p class="i2">The Lamb seems leading <span class="sc">Solly</span>.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<p>"<span class="sc">What Ho, Apothecary</span>!"—Last week +the Earl of <span class="sc">Bessborough</span> was announced as +having arrived at Bessborough, Pilltown, +Ireland. What an appropriate spot for +erecting an Irish Apothecaries' Hall! What +is Lord <span class="sc">Bessborough's</span> family name? Is +it The <span class="sc">O'Cockle</span>?</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE AUTHOR.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>It lay on the book-stall for sale,</p> +<p class="i2">But no one to purchase seemed willing,</p> +<p>The ticket was "Humorous Tale,</p> +<p class="i2">Two-and-sixpence—reduced to a shilling."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>But the humour was lost upon me.</p> +<p class="i2">And the jest fell uncommonly flat.</p> +<p>Could the jokes I had written then be</p> +<p class="i2">So fallen in value as that?</p> + </div> </div><br /><br /> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">The First Duty of an Opposition</span> (<i>As +it now seems to be understood</i>).—"To lie in +cool Obstruction, and talk rot."—(<i>Shakspeare</i>—slightly +<i>adapted</i>.)</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Modern Translation by our Youngest +Sporting Etonian</span>.—"<i>In formâ pauperis</i>"—<i>i.e.</i>, +"in rather poor form."</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page160" id="page160"></a>[pg 160]</span> + +<hr /> + +<h3>AT AN AFTERNOON ENTERTAINMENT.</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">Scene</span>—<i>Prince's Hall, Piccadilly. Among the Audience are</i>—A +London Aunt, <i>and her</i> Eldest Daughter, <i>with a</i> Cousin from +the Country, <i>who is just a little difficult to amuse; a</i> Serious-minded +Lady <i>from Brixton, with a more frivolous</i> Friend; +<i>a pair of</i> Fiancés; <i>and an</i> Unsophisticated Father, <i>with an</i> +Up-to-date little Daughter. <i>An exhibition of "Pure Sleight-of-Hand" +has just been given on the Stage.</i></p> + +<p><i>The Serious Lady.</i> Clever? Yes, my dear, it is <i>clever</i> enough, if +that's all; but I never can +quite reconcile <i>my</i> conscience +to encouraging a fellow-creature +to make a living by +deliberate deception!</p> + +<p><i>Her Friend.</i> Oh, I don't +see any harm in conjuring, +myself.</p> + +<p><i>The S. L.</i> I can't forget +that Pharaoh had his Sorcerers +and Magicians, and +how <i>they</i> acted!</p> + +<p><i>Her Friend.</i> Ah, I never +saw <i>them</i>.</p> + +<p><i>The London Aunt</i> (<i>to her</i> +Niece). Enjoying it, <span class="sc">Sophy</span>? +Such a <i>treat</i> for you, to see +really good conjuring!</p> + +<p><i>Sophy.</i> Yes, Aunt, thank +you. But our new Curate +did that trick with <i>two</i> +rabbits at the last Penny +Readings we had!</p> + +<p>[<i>A calico screen is brought +forward on which the +Entertainer throws various +shadows with his +hands.</i></p> + +<p><i>The S. L.</i> Is that a little +house at the corner? Oh, +he doesn't do <i>that</i> with his +hands—then I see no merit +in it. Who's that? (<i>A +small male shadow, cast by +the performer's right hand, +crosses the screen, and knocks +timidly at the door, which +is opened by the left hand, +in the character of a little +Lady. The couple embrace +effusively, and retire inside.</i>) +Ah, that's the husband +coming home!</p> + +<p>[<i>Another male shadow enters +and knocks furiously, +while the little Lady +reconnoitres cautiously +from the window above.</i></p> + +<p><i>Her Friend.</i> I expect <i>that</i> +must be the husband.</p> + +<p><i>The S. L.</i> What?—and +the wife behaving like that +in his absence! If I thought +<i>that</i> was the—— (<i>The first +male shadow comes out, and +fights the second, who retreats, +worsted.</i>) I never saw anything +so scandalous. How +you can call yourself consistent, +and sit there and +<i>laugh</i> at such things——!</p> + +<p><i>Her Friend</i> (<i>apologetically</i>). +I can't help laughing—and, +after all, perhaps they're only rival lovers, or he's her +<i>father</i>, or something.</p> + +<p><i>The S. L.</i> And she inviting one to come into the house in that +bold way—a nice example for young persons! Look there, he's +come back with a flageolet, and she's actually poured a jug of +water on his head out of the window! "Only a pair of hands," did +you say? So it <i>may</i> be—but we all know <i>who</i> it is that "Finds +some mischief still For idle hands to do"—and there we have an +illustration of it, my dear.</p> + +<p>[<i>She shakes herself down in her sealskins with virtuous +disapproval.</i></p> + +<p><i>The Unsophisticated Father</i> (<i>who has been roaring with laughter</i>). +Capital! It is amazingly clever, 'pon my word! Can't imagine +how they do these things—can <i>you</i>, <span class="sc">Vivvie</span>? [<i>To Up-to-Date +Child.</i></p> + +<p><i>Miss Vivien.</i> Oh, well I've seen so much conjuring at parties, +you know, Father, that I don't notice it particularly,—but it's nice +to see <i>you</i> so amused!</p> + +<p><i>The U. F.</i> I'm <i>young</i>, you see, <span class="sc">Vivvie</span>; but I hope you're +not +bored?</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Miss V.</span> No, I'm not <i>bored</i>—only I thought there'd be some +Serpentine dancing, and more of the <i>Music Hall</i> about it.</p> + +<p><i>The U. F.</i> Music Hall! Why, what do <i>you</i> know about Music +Halls, eh?</p> + +<p><i>Miss V.</i> (<i>with calm superiority</i>). Several of their songs—if +you call <i>that</i> anything.</p> + +<p><i>The U. F.</i> I should be inclined to call it a good deal too +much!</p> + +<p><i>Miss V.</i> (<i>compassionately</i>). Would you? Poor dear Father! +But you never <i>were</i> very modern, were you?</p> + +<p>[<i>A Blind-folded Lady on the Stage has been reading and +adding up figures on a black board, and now offers to tell +the day of the week of any person's birth in the audience.</i></p> + +<p><i>Her Colleague.</i> Will some +gentleman kindly oblige me +with the date of his birth?</p> + +<p><i>The Fiancée.</i> Now, <span class="sc">Jack</span>, +tell yours. I <i>want</i> you to.</p> + +<p><i>Jack</i> (<i>in an unnaturally +gruff voice</i>). Fourteenth of +February, eighteen-sixty-nine!</p> + +<p><i>The Blindfolded Lady</i> +(<i>with the air of the Delphic +Pythia</i>). Yes—<i>that</i> fell upon +a Monday. [<i>Applause.</i></p> + +<p><i>Her Coll.</i> Is that correct, +Sir?</p> + +<p><i>Jack.</i> Don't know.</p> + +<p>[<i>He reddens, and tries to +look unconscious.</i></p> + +<p><i>Her Coll.</i> Now I will ask +the Lady if she can mention +some event of importance +that took place on the same +date.</p> + +<p><i>The Bl. L.</i> Let me think. +Yes. (<i>Solemnly.</i>) On the +same date, in the year seventeen-hundred-and-thirty-seven, +goloshes were first +invented! [<i>Loud applause.</i></p> + +<p><i>Miss V.</i> (<i>as the pair retire</i>). +Well, thank goodness, we've +seen the last of that beastly +black-board. I didn't come +here to add up sums. What +is it next? Oh, a "Farmyard +Imitator." I expect +that will be rather rot, +Father, don't you?</p> + +<p>[<i>Enter a Gentleman in evening +dress who gives realistic +imitations of various +live-stock.</i></p> + +<p><i>The Country Cousin.</i> +That's <i>exactly</i> the way our +little Berkshire pig grunts, +and "Sweetlips" calls her +calf just like that—and, oh, +<span class="sc">Katie</span>, I <i>wonder</i> if he could +have heard our Dorkings +clucking at home—I think +he <i>must</i> have—he does it so +exactly the same!</p> + +<p><i>Katie.</i> Then you do think +<i>that's</i> clever, <span class="sc">Sophy</span>?</p> + +<p><i>Sophy.</i> Oh, well—for an <i>imitation</i>, you know!</p> + +<p>[<i>A "Sensational Cage Mystery" is introduced; a pretty child +is shut up in a cage, which is opened a moment after, and +found to contain a Negro who capers out, grinning.</i></p> + +<p><i>The London Aunt.</i> <span class="sc">Sophy</span>, do you see that?—there's a black +man there now, instead!</p> + +<p><i>Sophy</i> (<i>without enthusiasm</i>). Yes, Aunt, I see, thank you.</p> + +<p><i>Katie.</i> Don't you <i>like</i> it, <span class="sc">Sophy</span>?</p> + +<p><i>Sophy.</i> I don't see why it need have been a <i>Nigger</i>!</p> + +<p><i>The S. L.</i> (<i>after a "Humorous Musical Sketch" by a clever and, +charming young Lady</i>). Like <i>that</i>, my dear?—a Young Woman +giving a description of how she actually went on the Stage, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page161" id="page161"></a>[pg 161]</span> +imitating men in that way! It was as much as <i>I</i> could do to sit +still in my seat!</p> + +<p><i>Her Friend.</i> I must say I thought it was very amusing.</p> + +<p><i>The S. L.</i> Amusing? I daresay. But, to my mind, young girls +have no <i>business</i> to be amusing, and take off other people. I've no +opinion of such ways myself. I don't know what my dear Mother +would have done if <i>I'd</i> ever been amusing—she would have broken +her heart, I do believe!</p> + +<p><i>The Friend</i> (<i>to herself</i>). She wouldn't have split her sides, that's +very certain!</p> + +<p>[<i>A</i> Lady Physiognomist <i>appears in cap and gown, and invites +a subject to step upon the stage, and have his or her character +revealed.</i></p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:50%;"><a href="images/160.png"><img width="100%" src="images/160.png" alt="He blinks and smiles in feeble confusion." /></a> +<h4>"He blinks and smiles in feeble confusion."</h4> +</div> + +<p><i>Jack</i> (<i>to his Fiancée</i>). No, I say—but look here, <span class="sc">Flossie</span>, +<i>really</i> +I'd rather not—with all these people looking!</p> + +<p><i>Flossie.</i> Then I shall think you've something to <i>conceal</i>, +<span class="sc">Jack</span>—you +wouldn't like me to feel that <i>already</i>, would you?</p> + +<p>[<span class="sc">Jack</span>, <i>resignedly, mounts the platform, and occupies a chair, in +which he blinks and smiles in feeble confusion, while the</i> +Professor <i>studies his features dispassionately.</i></p> + +<p><i>The Lady Phys.</i> The first thing to notice is the disposition of the +ears. Now here we have a Gentleman whose ears stick out in a +very remarkable manner. [<i>Delight of Audience.</i></p> + +<p><i>Flossie</i> (<i>to herself</i>). They <i>do</i>—awfully! I never noticed it +before. +But it really rather suits him; at least—— [<i>She meditates.</i></p> + +<p><i>The L. Ph.</i> This denotes an original and inquiring mind; this +gentleman takes nothing on trust—likes to see everything for +himself; he observes a good deal more than he ever says anything +about. His nose is wide at the tip, showing a trustful and confiding +disposition; it has a bump in the centre, denoting a moderate amount +of combativeness. The nostrils indicate a keen sense of humour. +(<i>Here</i> <span class="sc">Jack</span> <i>giggles bashfully.</i>) There is a twist in the +upper lip, +which indicates—well, I won't say that he would actually tell an +<i>untruth</i>—but if he had the opportunity for doing so, he has the +capacity for taking advantage of it. I think that is all I have to +say about this Gentleman.</p> + +<p><i>Flossie</i> (<i>to</i> <span class="sc">Jack</span>, <i>after he has returned to her +side</i>). <span class="sc">Jack</span>, if you +can't leave off having an original and inquiring mind, you must at +least promise me <i>one</i> thing—it's very little to ask!</p> + +<p><i>Jack.</i> You know I'd do any blessed thing in the world for you +<span class="sc">Flossie</span>,—what is it?</p> + +<p><i>Flossie.</i> Only to wear an elastic round your ears at night, <span class="sc">Jack</span>!</p> + +<p><i>The Unsophisticated Father</i> (<i>at the conclusion of the exhibition, +as the Missing Lady disappears with a bang, in full view of the +Audience</i>). There, <span class="sc">Vivvie</span>; she's vanished clean away. What do +you say to that, eh?</p> + +<p><i>Vivien</i> (<i>composedly</i>). Well, I think we may as well vanish too +Father. It's all over!</p> + +<p><i>The S. L.</i> (<i>going out</i>). I don't wish to judge <i>others</i>—far +from it—but, +speaking for myself, <span class="sc">Eliza</span>, I <i>cannot</i> feel this has been a +profitable +method of employing precious moments which can never be +recalled.</p> + +<p><i>Her Friend.</i> Oh, it's quite early. You'll have plenty of time to +get a cup of tea, and do some shopping before it's dark.</p> + +<p><i>The S. L.</i> (<i>severely</i>). That was not precisely what I <i>meant</i>, +<span class="sc">Eliza</span>!</p> + +<p>[<i>But it is precisely what she does.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>ADVERTISEMENT'S ADVERSARIES.</h3> + +<p class="center">["A Society has been formed to deliver us from hideous advertisements."</p> + +<p class="author1"><i>The Saturday Review.</i>]</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>O newly-formed Society, we note with admiration</p> +<p class="i2">The truly novel purpose which you seem to have at heart,</p> +<p>And with no little eagerness await its consummation,</p> +<p class="i2">When popular advertisements will shine as works of art.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Then picturesque localities no longer will be crowded</p> +<p class="i2">With puffs of panaceas for our universal ills,</p> +<p>No longer will the atmosphere be permanently clouded</p> +<p class="i2">By sky-signs built to promulgate a patent soap or pills.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>No more in train or omnibus will every inch of boarding</p> +<p class="i2">Be covered with advertisements of variegated hue;</p> +<p>No more in every thoroughfare will each obtrusive hoarding</p> +<p class="i2">Blaze, hideously chromatic, with its yellow, red, and blue.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>One thing, perhaps, you'll tell us,—you will pardon the suggestion—</p> +<p class="i2">We doubt not your ability your purposes to win,</p> +<p>But yet our curiosity would fain propound the question,—</p> +<p class="i2">How, excellent Society, and when, will you begin?</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<p>"<span class="sc">The Flowers that Bloom in the Spring</span>" may now be seen +in all their glory at the Crystal Palace Show. The excellent arrangements +there made for their exhibition prove that they have been +designed and carried out by a clever "Head"-Gardener.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h3> + +<p>Seeing that <i>A Wild Wooing</i> (published by <span class="sc">F. V. White & Co.</span>) +is by <span class="sc">Florence Warden</span>, authoress of <i>The House on the Marsh</i>, +the Baron anticipated a real treat. But he was somewhat disappointed. +The novel is in one volume, which is an attraction, and +that volume is of a portable size, which is another note in its +favour; also it is not illustrated, which is an undisguised blessing. +The story is interesting up to a certain point, which, however, +does not take you very far into the book, and, after this point, the +murmurings behind walls, the moving and dragging of heavy +bodies under the floors, the insecure rope-ladders, the trap-doors, +cellars, underground passages, smugglers, murderers, victims, and +all sorts of mixed mysteries, become tiresome. +There is yet another fault, which is, that the story is not +told in so convincing a style as to make the +reader feel quite sure that the authoress is not "getting at him" +all the time, and just trying to see what quantity of old melodramatic +stuff he will patiently stand.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 25%;"><a href="images/161.png"><img width="100%" src="images/161.png" alt="At Easter Time the Baron de B.-W. visits his friend The Peer of Brighton" /></a> +<h4>At Easter Time the Baron de B.-W. visits his friend<br /> +<i>The</i> Peer of Brighton.</h4> +</div> + +<p>Henceforth <span class="sc">Florence Warden</span> will do well to get away from +the rusty bars, bolts, chains, trap-doors, and cellars, from ruined +castles, as grim as that of <i>Udolpho</i>, "of which," as Sir <span class="sc">Walter</span> +said +in his preface to <i>Waverley</i>, "the Eastern wing had long been uninhabited, +and the keys either lost, or consigned to the care of some +aged butler or housekeeper, whose trembling steps, &c., &c." +Accidentally, turning from "White" to "Black," the Baron took up +the first volume of the excellent re-issue of the <i>Waverley Novels</i>, by +Messrs. <span class="sc">Adam and Charles Black</span>, called <i>The Dryburgh Edition</i>, +and commenced reading the introductory chapter of <i>Waverley</i>, which +at that time, gave the death-thrust to the melodramatic horrors of +romantic tales, whether evolved from the inner consciousness of English +writers, or openly acknowledged as "taken from the German."</p> + +<p>In view of the sensational romance of the present day, towards +which, when really good, the Baron owns to having a decided leaning—it +is interesting to note how brave Sir <span class="sc">Walter</span> defied the existing +fashion in novels of his own time, spurned the sentimental +"Mordaunts," the "Belvilles," and such like played-out names of +ancient chivalry, laughed at the heroine "with a profusion of +auburn hair and a harp," and, like the Magician of the North that +he was, boldly gave to the world his historic novels, in which, where +History doesn't suit the requirements of fiction, it is so much the +worse for History. Are there very many of the present generation +who have not read Sir <span class="sc">Walter Scott's</span> novels? If there be +any—and there must be, or where would be the demand to occasion +this new and admirably devised supply—let them at once put +aside modern sensationalism, and commence <span class="sc">Walter Scott</span> as a +study. The Baron knows personally one man of mature years, +who has read neither <i>Waverley</i> nor several others of the series, +and him he envies, for, as the student in question has already set +himself to the task, he has the greatest literary pleasure of his life +yet to come. Type, size of book, excellent as a library edition; +and the illustrations, so far as they have gone, are good, and not +too distracting. And so, after this unequivocal expression of his +sentiments, he signs himself, <span class="sc">The Bold Baron de B.-W.</span></p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page162" id="page162"></a>[pg 162]</span> +<br clear="all" /> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/162.png"><img width="100%" src="images/162.png" alt="A LESSON IN ALTRUISM." /></a> +<h4>A LESSON IN ALTRUISM.</h4> + +<p><span class="sc">Always be kind to Dumb Animals—their Lives are short, and should be made +Happy and as Comfortable as possible—even +at the cost of a little Temporary Discomfort to yourself.</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>BACK TO SCHOOL;</h3> +<h4><span class="sc">Or, Doctor Blimber-Gladstone and his "Lit-tle Friends."</span></h4> + +<h4>(<i>Dombeyish Fragments, with a smack of "The Mikado."</i>)</h4> + +<p>Whenever a young gentleman was taken in hand by Dr. <span class="sc">Blimber-Gladstone</span>, +he might consider himself sure of a pretty tight squeeze. +The Doctor only undertook the charge of a limited number of young +gentlemen at a time, but he had always ready a supply of "cram" +for a hundred, on the lowest estimate; and it was at once the +business and delight of his life to gorge "his young friends," few or +many, to their utmost capacity, and sometimes beyond it.</p> + +<p>In fact, Dr. <span class="sc">Gladstone's</span> establishment was a great Hothouse, in +which there was a forcing apparatus incessantly at work. All the +boys blew before their time—or so said the Doctor's rivals and foes. +Mental Green Peas were produced in February, and intellectual +Scarlet-Runners in March. Mathematical Great Gooseberries were +common at untimely seasons, other than the appropriate Silly one.</p> + +<p>This was all very pleasant and ingenious, but the system of forcing +was attended with its usual disadvantage. There was sometimes +not the right taste about the premature productions, and they didn't +always keep well.</p> + +<p>The Doctor's was a mighty fine House, fronting the river. Not +always a joyful style of House within; sometimes quite the contrary. +The seats were in rows, like figures in a sum. The sitters also were +often in rows—with a slight (phonetic) difference. The House was +well provided with Hot Water, on the "constant-supply" system. +But somehow this seemed rather to conduce to discomfort than to +real cleanliness,—like the too frequent and tumultuous "turning-outs" +of an over-zealous housewife. A "Spring Clean," at St. +Stephen's School, was a thing to remember, and shudder at. It was +not a quiet House at the best of times. It seemed ever haunted by +the Banshee of Noise, and disturbed by the cacophonous ghosts of +dead Echoes. At the peacefulest periods it was pervaded by a +baneful Spook called the "Party Spirit," and always by the dull +booings of unwilling young gentlemen at their lessons, like the +raucous murmurings of an assemblage of melancholy rooks, or of +kites and crows cawing and screaming in the intervals of their +clamorous scufflings.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Holidays? Oh dear yes! If there was one thing Doctor <span class="sc">Gladstone's</span> +"young friends" <i>did</i> care for, it was Holidays! The +Doctor himself seemed as though he could—and were it possible—would +do without them. But the Doctor's "lit-tle friends," however +docile, could never be brought to see <i>that</i>. They did not +usually commence their Spring "term" until February. And they +were rips, even rampant, for a long "Recess" at Easter. When +the Doctor, using his well-beloved formula, said, "Gentlemen, we +will resume our studies upon——" they hung upon his words, and, +if the conclusion of his formula showed any disposition to cut the +Holidays short, they howled loudly in chorus, like hungry wolves +disappointed of their quarry.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>It was a sight to see Doctor <span class="sc">Gladstone's</span> little friends returning to +School <i>after</i> the Easter Vacation. The Doctor, looking complacently +expansive, cheerily anticipative, welcomed them on the doorstep. +<i>They</i> did not welcome <i>him</i>. Oh, dear no! Look at them; the five +senior pupils in front, headed, of course, by that overgrown and somewhat +ungainly Irish boy, Master <span class="sc">Patrick Green</span>, cock of the School, +and prime favourite of Doctor <span class="sc">Gladstone</span>! Can you not fancy them +singing—after a famous original—the following quintett?</p> + +<table summary="poem" border="0" style="margin-bottom: 1em;"> +<tr> + <td><i>The Five.</i></td> + <td>Five little boys for school are we,</td><td> </td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td> </td> + <td>Back from a very short ho-li-dee;</td><td> </td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td> </td> + <td>All as reluctant as well can be,—</td><td> </td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td> </td> + <td style="padding-left: 2em;">Five little boys for School!</td><td> </td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><i>Master Green.</i></td> + <td> Holiday's over, there's no more fun!</td><td style="text-align: right;">[<i>Groans.</i></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><i>Master Hodge.</i></td> + <td>Only just started! Wish I was done! </td><td style="text-align: right;">[<i>Snivels.</i></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><i>Master Bung.</i></td> + <td> As for <i>me</i>, wish I'd never <i>begun</i>!</td><td style="text-align: right;">[<i>Howls.</i></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><i>The Five.</i></td> + <td style="padding-left: 2em;">Five little boys for School!</td><td> </td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><i>All</i> (<i>shrinking</i>).</td> + <td> Five little boys who, all unwary,</td><td> </td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td> </td> + <td>Entered old <span class="sc">Gladstone's</span> big seminary,</td><td> </td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td> </td> + <td>Slaves to his Genius tutelary——</td><td> </td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td colspan="2"><i>The Five</i> (<i>suddenly demure, on catching sight of the Doctor</i>)—</td><td> </td> + +</tr> +<tr> + <td> </td> + <td style="padding-left: 2em;">Five little boys "back to School!.!"</td><td> </td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page163" id="page163"></a>[pg 163]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/163.png"><img width="100%" src="images/163.png" alt="BACK TO SCHOOL; OR, DR. GLADSTONE AND HIS YOUNG FRIENDS." /></a> +<h4>BACK TO SCHOOL; OR, DR. GLADSTONE AND HIS YOUNG FRIENDS.</h4></div> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page164" id="page164"></a>[pg 164]</span> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page165" id="page165"></a>[pg 165]</span> + +<hr /> + +<h3>SONGS OF SOCIETY. II.—A LETTER OF ADVICE.</h3> + +<p><i>From Miss Belinda Bullion at Monte Carlo, to Miss Angelina Veaudor, in +Mayfair.</i> (<i>Being a Pendant to a celebrated Poem by Praed.</i>)</p> + + + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%"><a href="images/165.png"><img width="100%" src="images/165.png" alt="From Miss Belinda Bullion at Monte Carlo, to Miss Angelina Veaudor, in Mayfair." /></a></div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>They tell me you've "landed" a lover</p> +<p class="i2">(Don't pout at the slang, dear, 'tis <i>chic</i>),</p> +<p>Before your first Season is over,</p> +<p class="i2">Before I have left you a week.</p> +<p>I learned the good news through my mother.</p> +<p class="i2">Who <i>is</i> he? I wish I could guess.</p> +<p>If it's dear Lord <span class="sc">Fitz-Frumpington's</span> brother,</p> +<p class="i2">My own <span class="sc">Angelina</span>, say "Yes."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Tres chère</i>, we know Fortune and Fashion</p> +<p class="i2">Are sensible girlhood's sole guides,</p> +<p>Smart maidenhood ridicules passion,</p> +<p class="i2">And sentiment calmly derides.</p> +<p>I gave you "Bel Ami" as token</p> +<p class="i2">That we were not victims of "glow;"</p> +<p>You gave me your vow—is it broken?</p> +<p class="i2">My own <span class="sc">Angelina</span>, say "No!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>We vowed, dear, no matter at what age,</p> +<p class="i2">By Sentiment not to be hooked,</p> +<p>Or cheated by Love in a Cottage,</p> +<p class="i2">Or Shepherds enchantingly crook'd.</p> +<p>Too well, dear, <i>we</i> know modern men's tone,</p> +<p class="i2">Of "briar" the pipes which <i>they</i> blow.</p> +<p>Say, have you gone soft <i>à la</i> <span class="sc">Shenstone</span>?</p> +<p class="i2">My own <span class="sc">Angelina</span>, say "No!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Remember the cynic romances</p> +<p class="i2">We read in that Devonshire glen!</p> +<p>We are not the slaves of girl-fancies,</p> +<p class="i2">We've learned far too much about Men!</p> +<p>'Tis nice, with your head on his shoulder,</p> +<p class="i2">To whirl through the waltz with <span class="sc">Frank Lowe</span>,</p> +<p>But should poor Adonis grow bolder,</p> +<p class="i2">My own <span class="sc">Angelina</span>, say "No!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>You know without wealth and a carriage</p> +<p class="i2">Life's just a prolonged fit of spleen,</p> +<p>So don't let me mourn o'er your marriage</p> +<p class="i2">With any poor <span class="sc">Brown, Jones</span>, or <span class="sc">Green</span>.</p> +<p>You swore mere romance should not thrill you,</p> +<p class="i2">Nor gold-less good looks make you glow;</p> +<p>And you will not go back on it—will you?</p> +<p class="i2">My own <span class="sc">Angelina</span>, say "No!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>We're parted, but sympathy's fetter</p> +<p class="i2">Unites us, I'm sure of it, still.</p> +<p>I read your last laughable letter,</p> +<p class="i2">And see you are steering with skill.</p> +<p>True Love is all fiddlededee, love,</p> +<p class="i2">Full coffers count only, below.</p> +<p>If he's not what your husband should be, Love,</p> +<p class="i2">My own <span class="sc">Angelina</span>, say "No!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>If he's over polite in his wooing,</p> +<p class="i2">If his heart is too plainly a-throb,</p> +<p>If he scarce seems aware what he's doing,</p> +<p class="i2">If he speaks with a blush or a sob;</p> +<p>If he is not "dead nuts" on his dinner,</p> +<p class="i2">If his voice or his spirits run low;</p> +<p>If he seems getting paler or thinner,</p> +<p class="i2">My own <span class="sc">Angelina</span>, say "No!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>If he gives too much time to his Tennis,</p> +<p class="i2">Neglectful of dear L. S. D.,</p> +<p>If he chatters of <span class="sc">Whistler</span> and Venice,</p> +<p class="i2">If he cares about Five o'clock Tea;</p> +<p>If he's not sometimes rude or capricious</p> +<p class="i2">(All swells who have money are so),</p> +<p>Such signs are extremely suspicious;</p> +<p class="i2">My own <span class="sc">Angelina</span>, say "No!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>If he shows a contempt for "the City,"</p> +<p class="i2">And drops little jeers about Jews,</p> +<p>If he talks of "the People" with pity,</p> +<p class="i2">Or rails at the Sweaters as "screws,"</p> +<p>These things prove a "popular leaning,"</p> +<p class="i2">And popular leanings are low;</p> +<p>Soft heart, and slack purse, are <i>their</i> meaning—</p> +<p class="i2">My own <span class="sc">Angelina</span>, say "No!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>If he prates about Property's duties</p> +<p class="i2">In diction at all Gladstonese,</p> +<p>If he's down on Society Beauties,</p> +<p class="i2">If he has not a stare that can freeze;</p> +<p>If he does not abuse Foreign Powers,</p> +<p class="i2">And vote all philosophy slow,</p> +<p>If he's one of the time's "big Bow-wowers,"</p> +<p class="i2">My own <span class="sc">Angelina</span>, say "No!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>He must walk like a Cit in his glory,</p> +<p class="i2">Of Money the true modern test,</p> +<p>He must be—yes, of course, dear—a Tory,</p> +<p class="i2">(As <i>partis</i> that party are best)</p> +<p>If he knows not the old Carlton's portal,</p> +<p class="i2">Then—unless you've a Duke for a beau—</p> +<p>I beg you—for girls are but mortal—</p> +<p class="i2">My own <span class="sc">Angelina</span>, say "No!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Don't bother about his extraction</p> +<p class="i2">Although there's a charm in good birth,</p> +<p>But Wealth yields life's sole satisfaction,</p> +<p class="i2">So find out, dear girl, <i>what he's worth</i>!</p> +<p>He may be but an oil-striking Yankee,</p> +<p class="i2">Eccentric in manners and dress,</p> +<p>But, if he has tin worth a "thankee,"</p> +<p class="i2">My own <span class="sc">Angelina</span>, say "Yes!"</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>MISTER JACKY'S VADE MECUM FOR THE EASTER HOLIDAYS.</h3> + +<p><i>Question.</i> What is the chief object you wish to attain during the +Vacation?</p> + +<p><i>Answer.</i> To have the best time possible under the most favourable +conditions.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> Is the comfort of your relations and friends to be taken into +serious account in attaining this desirable end?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Certainly not; the details to which you refer are unworthy of +a moment's consideration.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> Have you any objection to upsetting all the household arrangements +on your arrival?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Unquestionably no. If a morning performance commences at +an hour early enough to require luncheon to be discussed at 12:30, +why the <i>déjeuner à la fourchette</i> (as the French would say) must be +partaken within half-an-hour of noon. In like manner, if an evening +representation begins at seven, the dinner-hour must be put back to +half-past five.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> If these alterations cause any disturbance of your father's +habits, how would you deal with the matter?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> I would not deal with the matter at all. I would leave all +purely necessary explanations to my mother.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> During the time of your vacation will you approve of any +dinner-parties?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> I have a rooted objection to such entertainments when the +guests are of my parents' selection. However, I have no objection to +a few fellows, say, like <span class="sc">Smith</span> Major, or <span class="sc">Brown</span> Minor, dropping +in to supper on a Sunday.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> Assuming that the hour you mention is your parents' favourite +time for peace and quiet, does such an invasion suggest any reflection?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> No. If my parents have become slow during my enforced +absence from home in the search of knowledge, it is time they should +have the benefit accruing from contact with my revivifying +characteristics.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> Supposing your father expostulates with you, and advances +the fact that you have received greater advantages than he himself +enjoyed—for instance, that you have been to Eton—what should you +reply?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Practically nothing. However, in the cause of justice and +truth, it might be advisable to answer his statement of fact that +"he had never been to Eton" with the reply, "Anyone could see +that."</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> If he complains that you do not rise until eleven, smoke +cigarettes in the dining-room before lunch, smash the grand piano +in the drawing-room, lame his favourite cob in the Row, and upset +all his documents in the study, what answer would you make?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> That you were not responsible for the training which he had +taken under his personal control. He must be satisfied with the +broad result of your bringing-up.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> If he declares his intention of addressing the Superintendent +of your scholastic career on the matter, what would you do?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Explain that your present position in the school, to which you +supposed you would have to reluctantly return, was lacking in the +element of popularity, and that any further move in the direction +of increased reduction in that element might possibly lead to your +expulsion. Deprecate personal objection to expulsion, but suggest +that such a course might, by preventing your getting employment +in the Church, Army, or Bar, lead to your being on your parents' +hands for life.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> When the time has all but arrived for your return to school, +what should you do?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Promptly catch the whooping-cough, the influenza, or +measles. You will then afford a sufficient reason for extending +the length of your vacation indefinitely.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page166" id="page166"></a>[pg 166]</span> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/166.png"><img width="100%" src="images/166.png" alt="A TERRIBLE TURK." /></a> +<h4>A TERRIBLE TURK.</h4> + +<p><i>Little Spinks.</i> <span class="sc">"Ah! once I was as Innocent as a Little Child! What I +am <i>now</i>, your +Sex has made me!"</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>NOBLE SELF-SACRIFICE.</h3> + +<p>"The Duke of <span class="sc">Devonshire</span> has +arranged to return from Monte Carlo +on Saturday," so said the <i>Morning Post</i>, +"in order to address a political meeting +at Glasgow on April 14th." His Grace +having torn himself away from delightful +Monte Carlo, will then attempt to +turn the tables on the <i>Liberales Gladstonienses</i>. +But fancy renouncing sunny +Mount Charles—"O Charley Mount is +a pleasant place," as sang <i>Miles na +Coppaleen</i>, who was, by the way, miles +away from Monte Carlo—with its azure +sky, its deep blue sea, its verdant green-cloth +table land, its delightful <i>promenades +à pied</i>, and its frisky <i>gambols à la +roulette</i>, where the sunset and sunrise +are <i>rouge</i>, and <i>noir</i> is only "on the +cards." Fancy renouncing these gay +southern delights to live a laborious +day in dry, hard, northern Glasgow! +"O swallow, swallow, flying, flying +South," how would you like to be +checked in your holiday-making airy +career in order to be brought back to +the cold and cruel North? Such a self-sacrifice +as this is indeed memorable.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>LOVE BY THE SEA. WIND N.E. BY E.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"We do not speak as we pass by!"</p> +<p>But tears down trickle from our eye!</p> +<p>Alas! Our love remains untold——</p> +<p>For each has got a thundering cold!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>BOOKS THAT OUGHT TO APPEAR.</h3> + +<p><i>I Banish the Street Organs!</i> By the +Author of <i>I Forbid the Banns!</i></p> + +<p><i>A Boy's Present.</i> (Birthday Book.) +By the Author of <i>A Girl's Past</i>.</p> + +<p>No. 1 of <i>The Domestic Lyre</i>, as a +Companion to <i>The Family Storyteller</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Yet they Look so Innocent!</span>—In the +Language of Flowers, what species should +always express untruths?—Li-lies.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h3> + +<h4>EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</h4> + +<p><i>House of Commons, Monday Night, March 27.</i>—The Lowther +Arcade not getting on so well as thought when projected. The +Master Builder been diligently at work, but result disappointing. +On Friday he got terribly snubbed by <span class="sc">Speaker</span>. Comes up to-day +to make personal explanation. That a bait at which House usually +jumps; always ready to be amused, or interested with scandal about +Queen <span class="sc">Elizabeth</span> and other persons. These things usually promised +by personal explanation. To-day no flutter of excitement moved +crowded House. <span class="sc">Jemmy</span>, approaching table with most judicial air, +received with mocking laughter, and ironical cheers. Some difficulty +in quite making out what he was at. Evidently something to do +with <span class="sc">Squire</span> of <span class="sc">Malwood</span>; but <span class="sc">Squire</span> so inextricably +mixed up +with Supplementary Estimates, couldn't make out which was which. +<span class="sc">James</span> pounded along in most ponderous style; <span class="sc">Squire</span> +contemptuously +replied; no one else inclined to join in conversation, and +the Master Builder gloomily resumed his seat.</p> + +<p>"Never mind," I said, not liking to see an old friend cast down; +"Rome wasn't built in a day, nor the Cave of Adullam excavated in +a week. These things grow. You must have patience, and the +Lowther Arcade will still flourish. Let me see, whom you have got? +There's <span class="sc">Bartley, Hanbury,</span> and <span class="sc">Tommy Bowles</span>. <span class="sc">Lowe</span>, +forming +his Cave, hadn't so many to start with."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Master Builder, "that's all very well; but, +fact is, you can't reckon upon these fellows as being, so to speak, +colonnades in the Arcade. They are all on their own hook; +fighting for their own hand; won't take the lead from me; must go +foraging for themselves. <span class="sc">Hanbury</span> thinks he can boss a show better +than most men. <span class="sc">Bartley's</span> obstreperous. <span class="sc">Tommy Bowles</span> would +be all right if he were left to himself, free from the companionship +of designing men. He is young, ingenuous, not wholly lost +to a sense of regard for his pastors and masters, lack of which is +the curse of modern Youth. I believe <span class="sc">Tommy</span> respects me, and, +only for the evil communications to which he is subject on the +back bench, would work loyally with me in establishing the +Arcade."</p> + +<p>There was unwonted moisture in the Master Builder's eye as +he turned round, and regarded the Member for King's Lynn what +time he softly whistled to himself the old Jacobite air, "<i>Tommy +make Room for your Uncle</i>."</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Vote of Censure moved by Prince <span class="sc">Arthur</span>; +Government majority runs up on division to 47; Ministerialists, +fresh from meeting at Foreign Office, agree that, on whole, have spent +a happy day. Debate spasmodically dull. Prince <span class="sc">Arthur</span> could +not lift it out of the rut, nor <span class="sc">Grandolph</span> either. Only Mr. G. +shone with effulgent light through gloom of evening. Principal +result of manœuvre, beyond giving fillip to majority, is that a day +will be filched from meagre holidays, and House must needs sit +on Thursday.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—Mr. G. looked in in time to say a few words in reply to +Prince <span class="sc">Arthur's</span> inquiries as to business arrangements. Later he +came back, and delivered excellent speech; brief, and direct to +point. House been talking all morning round Vote on Account. +<span class="sc">Macfarlane</span> done Rule-of-three sum, to show how twelve hundred +days are lost every week by necessity imposed upon Members of +coming down two hours in advance to take their seats. Some disposition +shown by practical Members to argue question whether there +could be twelve hundred days in any week, even in Leap-Year.</p> + +<p>"I know I'm right," said <span class="sc">Macfarlane</span>, and the sceptics, gazing +respectfully at his flowing beard, withdrew from controversy.</p> + +<p>House divided on Motion by <span class="sc">Legh</span> to reduce Foreign Office Vote. +Ministerial majority run up at a jump to 225. Time by Westminster +clock, 6.10 <span class="sc">P.M.</span>; in twenty minutes, sitting will be suspended; +Vote must be through Committee to-day; <span class="sc">Tommy Bowles</span> +(who hasn't made a speech for a quarter of an hour) on his feet; +sheafs of manuscript in his hand; would certainly oblige to extent +of twenty minutes; <span class="sc">Baron de Worms</span> also has a few remarks to +offer; probable length of Channel Tunnel. Mr. G. interposes.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page167" id="page167"></a>[pg 167]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/167.png"><img width="100%" src="images/167.png" alt="EASTER AT THE ZOO." /></a> +<h4>EASTER AT THE ZOO.</h4></div> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page168" id="page168"></a>[pg 168]</span> +<p> +"Mr. <span class="sc">Mellor</span>," he said, addressing +Chairman, "I claim to have the +question now put."</p> + +<p>Ringing cheers went up from Ministerialists. +<span class="sc">Tommy</span> resumed his seat; +gruefully glanced at notes. The Noble +Baron saw in this manœuvre fresh +proof that Mr. G. had sold himself to +Germany; having completed preparation +for separation of the Empire on +the side of the Irish Channel, would +immediately after, by medium of +<span class="sc">Watkin's</span> Tunnel, place what was left +of the country at the mercy of a foreign +foe. Meanwhile Closure moved; what's +more, carried on division by swingeing +majority of over a hundred. So Vote +agreed to; Mr. G. gets off for short +drive before dressing for dinner.</p> + +<p>Earned a night's rest, and a longer +Easter holiday than he has allotted to +himself and us. Older he gets, the +younger he seems. His work to-day +should make the eight-hours' man +blush. At bay in Downing Street +since twelve o'clock with two hostile +deputations. Came from Ulster and +the City, resolved to beard Home-Rule +Lion in his den. Alone he met them; +one down, the other come on; no interval +of rest; picked men from Ulster, +Selected Captains from the City, surged +around table at which he sat. Hardly +left him time to reply. Having politely conducted Ulster to door, +enter the City Fathers, fresh and eager for fray. Told him over again +in varied phrase how he was bringing country to verge of ruin; listened +with perfect courtesy, as if they'd been discussing someone else—say, +his next-door neighbour, <span class="sc">Squire</span> of <span class="sc">Malwood</span> and Junior Lord +of Downing Street. Up again when last in list of City speakers had +concluded. Almost persuaded <span class="sc">John Lubbock</span> to be a Home-Ruler; +then down to House, dealing with mass of correspondence littering +his table in room behind <span class="sc">Speaker's</span> chair; alert on sound of +division-bell; comes in to move Closure; remembers that in long +list of speeches never made this particular one before; looks up +<span class="sc">Palgrave's</span> <i>Handbook</i>; cons his lesson and declaims brief formula +in deep rich voice that lends touch of eloquence to its unadorned, +remorseless demand. All this, too, following on a day like yesterday, +when two other deputations stormed Downing Street; drew +from him weighty reply; followed, after hasty dinner, by a speech +in the House on the eternal Irish question, which <span class="sc">Grandolph</span> +rightly termed, "entrancing."</p> + +<p>"A Grand Old Man, indeed!" said +<span class="sc">Prince Arthur</span>, talking over these +things to-night, when he should have +been listening to <span class="sc">Tommy Bowles</span>, who +having at the morning sitting had his +speech on Vote on Account closured, +delivered another at evening sitting +on the question of the Depreciation of +Silver as it affects domestic architecture +in China and Peru.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:33%;"><a href="images/168a.png"><img width="100%" src="images/168a.png" alt="Portrait of a Member of Parliament examining the Signatures" /></a> +<p>Portrait of a Member of Parliament examining the Signatures +to a Petition against the Local-Veto Bill, to see if they are genuine +or not. (<i>Vide</i> Report of the Proceedings in the Commons, March 28, +which suggests that they are obtained in Public Houses.)</p></div> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Vote on Account +through Committee.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday.</i>—<span class="sc">Caine</span> going about +House this afternoon, his slim figure +bulging out at the pockets in mysterious +fashion, "Brought your supper +with you?" I asked, lightly touching +one of the excrescences that felt like +an imperial pint of ginger-beer (<span class="sc">White</span> +1880). "You seem bursting with broiled +bones. All no use. No more all-night +sittings <i>this</i> side of Easter."</p> + +<p>"No, my boy, you're wrong," said +<span class="sc">Caine</span>. "Fact is, I'm going off to the +country, and these protuberances you +observe about my person are phonograms. +All labelled, you see," he said, +taking out cylinders from several +pockets. "Here are a few remarks on +Registration; that's my Local-Veto +Speech; and here is an entirely new +view of the Home-Rule question. If +you like to come over to my house at +Clapham—close by, you know, busses every ten minutes—you shall +have a night's thorough enjoyment. Leave you in the room by yourself +with the phonograph. Pop in one of these cylinders; set the +phonograph whizzing; and you'll hear me on Local Veto. Take +out cylinder, put in another, and you'll know more about Home +Rule in five minutes than you ever dreamt. Can only let you have +them for to-night. To-morrow they go down to Yorkshire, and thro' +Easter Recess I shall be delivering, at various places, six speeches +every night, I myself comfortably making holiday in Wales." +"Thank you," I said; "but, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go +home and go to bed." In truth, a little depressed. Here's a nice +prospect for the holidays! Bad enough to have Members working +off at public meetings speeches that had been closured in Commons. +But if every man is, during the recess, to multiply himself by +phonography, the last state of this country will be worse than the first.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Adjourned for Easter Holidays. Just escaped +sitting over Good Friday. Back next Thursday.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/168b.png"><img width="100%" src="images/168b.png" alt="THE NEW 'FOURTH PARTY.'" /></a> +<h4>THE NEW "FOURTH PARTY."</h4> + +<p class="center">T. G. B-wl-s. Right Hon. J-m-s L-wth-r. G. C. B-rtl-y. R. W. H-nb-ry.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + +<table align="center" summary="note" style="margin-top: 10em;"> +<tr><td class="note"> +<h4>Transcriber's Note:</h4> + +<p>Missing or illegible/damaged punctuation has been repaired.</p> + +</td></tr></table> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +104, April 8, 1893, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 22671-h.htm or 22671-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/6/7/22671/ + +Produced by Lesley Halamek, Juliet Sutherland and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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