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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/22691-8.txt b/22691-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..05f7cac --- /dev/null +++ b/22691-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1564 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, +March 11, 1893, by Various, Edited by Francis Burnand + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, March 11, 1893 + + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis Burnand + +Release Date: September 20, 2007 [eBook #22691] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, +VOL. 104, MARCH 11, 1893*** + + +E-text prepared by Matt Whittaker, Juliet Sutherland, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 22691-h.htm or 22691-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/6/9/22691/22691-h/22691-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/6/9/22691/22691-h.zip) + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI + +VOL. 104 + +MARCH 11, 1893. + + + + + + + +MIXED NOTIONS. + +No. VI.--REGISTRATION REFORM. + +(_Scene and Persons as Usual._) + +_First Well-Informed Man_ (_bristling with indignation, as he lays down his +newspaper_). Well, I'm dashed! + +_Inquirer_ (_nervously_). What's up? + +_First W. I. M._ _What's up!_ Everything's up. Up the spout, that's where +this blessed country will be if this kind of thing's going on. + +_Inquirer._ What kind of thing? + +_First W. I. M._ Why, all this gerrymandering kind of business. + +_Inquirer._ Oh, by the way, that reminds me. I came on that word the other +day. Can any of you chaps tell me what it means? + +_First W. I. M._ It's as plain as a pikestaff. It means playing ducks and +drakes with things all round, and letting the whole business go thoroughly +rotten. + +_Inquirer._ Has it got anything to do with jerry-builders? + +_First W. I. M._ It's the same thing precisely. + +_Inquirer_ (_insisting_). But what's the point of calling 'em jerry? Where +does that come in? + +_First W. I. M._ It's a French word. + +_Second W. I. M._ It isn't. It's German. + +_First W. I. M._ Bosh, it's French. + +_Second W. I. M._ I bet you a dollar it's German. + +_First W. I. M._ And I bet you a dollar it's French. (_To Average Man._) +Here, you decide. Which is it? + +_Average Man._ Well, I'm sure it isn't French---- + +_Second W. I. M._ (_interrupting_). Of course it isn't. Pay up, my boy! + +_Average Man_ (_continuing_). But, on the other hand, it isn't German. + +_First W. I. M._ Oh, rot! It must be one or the other, you know. +(_Scornfully._) You'll be telling us it's Greek next. + +_Average Man._ Well, of course, it _might_ be; but, as a matter of fact, I +fancy it's English. + +_First W. I. M._, _Second W. I. M._ (_together_). Oh, you tell that to the +Marines! It won't wash here. + +_Inquirer_ (_doubtfully_). Perhaps it's American. + +_Average Man_ (_resignedly_). Well I daresay it is. Any way, you can have +it so if you like, It may be Sanskrit for all I care. + + [_Retires to his paper. A pause._ + +_Inquirer_ (_to First W. I. M._). But, look here, what made you lose your +hair, just now? You looked as angry as blazes about something. + +_First W. I. M._ (_with dignity_). Did I? Well, isn't it enough to make +anybody, who loves his country, angry when he sees what's going on. Why, +the Government's going to turn everything inside out, with some blessed new +law about elections. Registration Bill, they call it, or something of that +sort. Just as if we hadn't had enough tinkering and pottering lately. It's +all through this confounded County Council interfering with everything. + +_Second W. I. M._ (_aggressive_). What the dickens has the County Council +got to do with it? You're always dropping on the County Council. + +_First W. I. M._ Oh, they've got their finger in every pie. I'm pretty +certain this is their job. + +_Second W. I. M._ Well, you're wrong this time, that's all. You're thinking +of the Employers' Liability Bill. + +_First W. I. M._ No, I'm not. I never even heard of it. So that's where +_you're_ wrong. What has the Employers' Liabill got----I mean the +Employers' (_steadily, and with determination_) Li-a-bil-ity Bill got to do +with the County Council? + +_Second W. I. M._ Everything. Didn't you read JOHN BURNS'S speech about it? + +_First W. I. M._ No--and I don't mean to. Ask me another. + +_Second W. I. M._ All right--I will. Do you mean to deny that our present +Registration System is a ridiculous one? + +_First W. I. M._ (_hotly_). Yes, I do. + +_Second W. I. M._ (_with triumph_). Ah, I've got you now. You said, only +yesterday, that any system by which a Government like this got into power +must be ridiculous. (_To_ Inquirer.) Didn't he? + +_Inquirer_ (_hesitating_). Well, I'm not quite sure. I rather fancy he did +say something of that kind. But--(_deprecatingly_)--perhaps he meant +something else. + +_First W. I. M._ No, I didn't. I meant what I said--and I stick to it. But +that isn't the same thing as the Registration System. + +_Second W. I. M._ Perhaps you'll tell us, then, what the Registration +System is? + +_Inquirer_ (_eagerly_). Yes, do. I should like to get to the bottom of it, +because I'm constantly meeting a sort of third cousin of mine, who's a +Registrar of something or other, and I never quite know what he does. All I +know is, that he isn't a Registrar in Bankruptcy. + +_First W. I. M._ Let me see--how can I put it shortly? It's just this--you +chaps have got votes. + +_Inquirer_ (_decisively_). No, I haven't. + +_First W. I. M._ (_put out_). Ah, but you ought to have. + +_Second W. I. M._ (_cutting in_). There you are again. That's just what +I've been saying all along. He ought to have--but he hasn't; so where's +your beautiful system now? + +_First W. I. M._ (_retreating strategically_). I never said it was +_perfect_, did I? But I'll come to that afterwards. (_To_ Inquirer.) Now +why haven't you got a vote? + +_Inquirer_ (_with a painful sense of inferiority_). I'm sure I don't know. +I suppose the old Johnny, whoever he is, didn't chalk me down when he went +round last time. + +_First W. I. M._ Probably you haven't lived in your house long enough. You +haven't got a qualifying period. + +_Inquirer._ Haven't I? How long ought I to have lived there? + +_First W. I. M._ (_vaguely_). Oh, it's something between three and four +years. I can't tell you the exact number; they alter it every year. + +_Second W. I. M._ Who alter it? + +_First W. I. M._ The Revising Barristers, or somebody. + +_Second W. I. M._ Well, my brother-in-law's a Revising Barrister, and I +never heard of him doing that. + +_First W. I. M._ (_sarcastic_). But you don't suppose he'd tell _you_ +everything he does, do you? + +_Inquirer._ But I've lived in my house six years. + +_First W. I. M._ Ah! but aren't you a lodger? + +_Second W. I. M._ What's the odds if he is? My brother's a lodger, and I +know he's got a vote. + +_First W. I. M._ But that's a different franchise altogether. + +_Second W. I. M._ How do you mean? They're both lodgers. + +_First W. I. M._ But they don't live in the same district. Perhaps they +don't give him a latch-key. + +_Inquirer_ (_producing it_). Yes they do. Here it is. (_Chuckles._) I think +I jolly well see myself without a latch-key. But, I say, about this vote. I +don't half like not having got one. What shall I do about it? + +_First W. I. M._ You'd better see somebody about it. + +_Inquirer._ Somebody was talking about Leasehold Franchise the other day. +Perhaps I could get in on that. + +_First W. I. M._ Ah! I daresay that _might_ help you. [_Terminus._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "NOUS AVONS CHANGÉ TOUT CELA!" + +"WERE YOU EVER IN CHICAGO, DUCHESS?" + +"WHY YES, LADY MARY. IT'S MY NATIVE PLACE, YOU KNOW--AT LEAST, IT USED TO +BE!"] + + * * * * * + +NEW NOVEL BY Mr. G.--_The Art of Midlothian._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: DRESS REHEARSAL OF EMINENT COMEDIANS, GRANDOLPH AND SARUM, +_Previous to Starring Tour in Scotland and Ireland respectively_.] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +_Time and the Woman._ By RICHARD PRYCE. Not by any means a pearl of Pryce, +and certainly not likely to make so great noise in the novel-reading world +as did _The Quiet Mrs. Fleming_, by the same author. METHUEN & CO. publish +it. + +The Baron heartily recommends FRANK BARRETT'S novel, in three vols., +entitled, _Kitty's Father_. A thoroughly absorbing plot, well worked out, +and interesting right up to the last page. _Kitty's_ father is a mysterious +person, and she, not being a wise child, for she doesn't know him, does +several foolish things, and says several wise ones. _Kitty's_ uncle is a +necessary nuisance, but a cleverly and consistently drawn character, while +_Kitty_ herself is delightfully made out of good home-spun material. But +the villanous Curate is just a bit too grotesque, too Uriah-Heepish for the +awfully tragic situation in which he is placed. When the imaginative author +shifts the scene to Dublin, why did he not represent an Irish +Cardinal-Archbishop as waiting at the stage-door to escort home the +light-and-leading lady? But "for a' that and a' that," most decidedly "read +it," quoth the Baron, and on he goes again. + +MARION CRAUFORD'S _Children of the King_, published by MACMILLAN, is a +tragic story, told in most simple and most fascinating style. It is all +colour and character: the colours and the characters being those of +Southern Italy. + +Out of regard to the importunities of numerous correspondents, the Baron +has read IBSEN'S _Master Builder_, translated by two of the Ibsenitish +cult. "Only fancy!" Of all the weak-knee'd, wandering, effeminate, +unwholesome, immoral, dashed "rot," to quote _Lord Arthur_ in the +_Pantomime Rehearsal_, this is the weak-knee'dest, effeminatest, and all +the epithets as above superlatived. Read it by all means, and see it, too, +if you will, but if the honest English play-goer's verdict is worth a "big, +big, D" (I thank thee, W. S. G., for teaching me that abbreviated form of +dashed expressiveness!) he will give IBSEN'S _Master Builder_ the benefit +of the "D," and "D" it once and for ever. And that, at your service, my +masters, is the rough-and-ready opinion expressed by, + +Yours truly, THE BARON DE B.-W. + + * * * * * + +A RACY READING OF AN OLD QUOTATION FROM SCOTT. + +(_Suggested by Burns._) + + "My foot is on Newmarket Heath! + My name, JEM LOWTHER!" + + * * * * * + +The benefits that Sir JOHN LAWES has been able and will yet be able to +confer on agriculturists everywhere, including those in his immediate +neighbourhood, cause him to be regarded as a living exception to the rule +about a prophet in his own country. So, in that part of England, "Profit +and LAWES" are synonymous terms, meaning the same person. + + * * * * * + +"HAPPINESS IN----FOLKESTONE." + +["He said, 'Go and be----' I accordingly went and stayed at Folkestone." + +_See last Thursday's "Daily News;" Evidence in the De Walden Case._] + + Thrice happy Town Council! when pestered to pave, + Remember this fact that her Ladyship mentions. + Intend, but do nothing; your rates you can save + By paving your streets with the best of intentions. + + * * * * * + +HITHERTO UNREPORTED.--Mr. GLADSTONE and Mr. ASQUITH received deputations on +the Eight Hours' Question last Friday. The chief speakers were Mr. PARROT +and Mr. ONIONS. Mr. G. observed that in all his vast experience, frequently +as he had tasted a savoury dish of rabbit and onions, yet the combination +of Parrot with Onions was something really novel. Perhaps Mr. PARROT would +be useful at any bye-election, and would give them the state of the poll. +As to Mr. ONIONS, well, he (Mr. G.) hadn't words of welcome sufficiently +strong for him. Why hadn't he brought "BRER RABBIT" with him? In +approaching the Eight Hours' Question, no time must be lost, so he would at +once proceed to business. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: FROM OUR VILLAGE. + +_Mrs. Sharply_ (_to the Doctor, who has looked in, having heard that her +"good man" is ailing_). "NO, I THANK YE, SIR. YOU SEE I'VE HEERD OF YOU, +SIR, AS YOU'VE BEEN 'PRAC_TI_SING' HERE FOR THE LAST THREE YEARS, AND SO +I'D RATHER YOU WENT 'PRAC_TI_SING' ELSEWHERE, AS I DON'T WANT NO +_'SPERIMENTS_ ON MY OLD MAN!"] + + * * * * * + +At a recent Monday Pop Concert, Mr. BORWICK put any amount of +powder--everyone has seen or heard of Borwick's Powder--into his +performance of "_Suite Anglaise_." As a pretty lady observed, "He might +just as well, or better, have put the name in English, and called it, '_The +Sweet English Girl_.'" Messrs. JOACHIM, RIES, STRAUSS, and PIATTI, played a +string-quartette in C Sharp Minor, and out of respect to the Ecclesiastical +Season of the year, they gave marked prominence to the "_Lento_" in G. +Flat. + + * * * * * + +A GENUINE BUILDING SOCIETY.--The Birds, just now. And its members are not +even waiting for a Re-leaf Fund, which will, however, soon come, with "the +flowers that bloom in the Spring, tra-la!" + + * * * * * + +THE G. O. M. FROM A MUSICAL POINT OF VIEW.--When preternaturally alert, he +is "Mr. G. Sharp." When depressed, he is "Mr. G. Flat." When himself again, +he is "Mr. G. Natural." As being second son, he is "G. Minor." He is also +_hors ligne_. But he refuses to be musically translated to the House of +Lords, and become "The Upper G." + + * * * * * + +_Q._ What is the difference between a lover asking the object of his +affections to marry him, and a guest who ventures to hint to his host that +the Pommery '80 is rather corked? + +_A._ The one pops the question, the other questions the pop. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. R. saw the heading of a paragraph in the _Times_, of Monday. Feb. 27, +"Jade in Upper Burmah." She laid the paper down, and exclaimed, "Dear me! I +wonder who she is!" + + * * * * * + +If we ever do adopt Bimetallism, it is evident, from Mr. GLADSTONE'S +masterly speech, that holders of Consols will obtain very little +consol-ation. + + * * * * * + +PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL. + +(_Translated from the Original Norwegian by Mr. Punch_) + + [PREFATORY NOTE. The original title, _Mester-Pijl-drögster Herdal_, + would sound a trifle too uncouth to the Philistine ear, and is + therefore modified as above, although the term "drögster," strictly + speaking, denotes a practitioner who has not received a regular + diploma.] + +ACT FIRST. + + _An elegantly furnished Drawing-room at_ Dr. HERDAL'S. _In front, on + the left, a Console-table, on which is a large round bottle full of + coloured water. On the right a stove, with a banner-screen made out of + a richly-embroidered chest-protector. On the stove, a stethoscope and + a small galvanic battery. In one corner, a hat and umbrella stand; in + another, a desk, at which stands_ SENNA BLAKDRAF, _making out the + quarterly accounts. Through a glass-door at the back is seen the + Dispensary, where_ RÜBUB KALOMEL _is seated, occupied in rolling a + pill. Both go on working in perfect silence for four minutes and a + half._ + +_Dr. Haustus Herdal_ (_enters through hall-door; he is elderly, with a +plain sensible countenance, but slightly weak hair and expression_). Come +here, Miss BLAKDRAF. (_Hangs up hat, and throws his mackintosh on a +divan._) Have you made out all those bills yet? [_Looks sternly at her._ + +_Senna_ (_in a low hesitating voice_). Almost. I have charged each patient +with three attendances daily. Even when you only dropped in for a cup of +tea and a chat. (_Passionately._) I felt I _must_--I _must_! + +_Dr. Herd._ (_alters his tone, clasps her head in his hands, and +whispers_). I wish you could make out the bills for me, _always_. + +_Senna_ (_in nervous exaltation_). How lovely that would be! Oh, you are so +unspeakably good to me! It is too enthralling to be here! + + [_Sinks down and embraces his knees._ + +_Dr. Herd._ So I've understood. (_With suppressed irritation._) For +goodness' sake, let go my legs! I do _wish_ you wouldn't be so confoundedly +neurotic! + +[Illustration: "For goodness' sake, let go my legs!"] + +_Rübub_ (_has risen, and comes in through glass-door, breathing with +difficulty; he is a prematurely bald young man of fifty-five, with a +harelip and squints slightly_). I beg pardon, Dr. HERDAL, I see I interrupt +you. (_As SENNA rises._) I have just completed this pill. Have you looked +at it? + + [_He offers it for inspection diffidently._ + +_Dr. Herd._ (_evasively_). It appears to be a pill of the usual dimensions. + +_Rübub_ (_cast down_). All these years you have never given me one +encouraging word! _Can't_ you praise my pill? + +_Dr. Herd._ (_struggles with himself_). I--I cannot. You should not attempt +to compound pills on your own account. + +_Rübub_ (_breathing laboriously_). And yet there was a time when _you_, +too---- + +_Dr. Herd._ (_complacently_). Yes, it was certainly a pill that came as a +lucky stepping-stone--but not a pill like that! + +_Rübub_ (_vehemently_). Listen! Is that your last word? _Is_ my aged mother +to pass out of this world without ever knowing whether I am competent to +construct an effective pill or not? + +_Dr. Herd._ (_as if in desperation_). You had better try it upon your +mother--it will enable her to form an opinion. Only mind--I will not be +responsible for the result. + +_Rübub._ I understand. Exactly as you tried _your_ pill, all those years +ago, upon Dr. RYVAL. [_He bows, and goes out._ + +_Dr. Herd._ (_uneasily_). He said that so strangely, SENNA. But tell me +now--when are you going to marry him? + +_Senna_ (_starts--half glancing up at him_). I--I don't know. This +year--next-year--now--_never_! I cannot marry him ... I cannot--I +_cannot_--it is so utterly impossible to leave you! + +_Dr. Herd._ Yes, I can understand _that_. But, my poor SENNA, hadn't you +better take a little walk? + +_Senna_ (_clasps her hands gratefully_). How sweet and thoughtful you are +to me! I _will_ take a walk. + +_Dr. Herd._ (_with a suppressed smile_). Do! And--h'm!--you needn't trouble +to come back. I have advertised for a male book-keeper--they are less +emotional. Good-night, my little SENNA! + +_Senna_ (_softly, and quiveringly_). Good-night, Dr. HERDAL! + + [_Staggers out of the hall-door, blowing kisses._ + +_Mrs. Herdal_ (_enters through the window, plaintively_). Quite an +acquisition for you, HAUSTUS, this Miss BLAKDRAF! + +_Dr. Herd._ She's--h'm!--extremely civil and obliging. But I am parting +with her, ALINE--mainly on _your_ account. + +_Mrs. Herd._ (_evades him_). Was it on my account, indeed, HAUSTUS? You +have parted with so many young persons on my account--so you tell me! + +_Dr. Herd._ (_depressed_). Oh, but this is hopeless! When I have tried so +hard to bring a ray of sunlight into your desolate life! I must give RÜBUB +KALOMEL notice too--his pill is really too preposterous! + +_Mrs. Herd._ (_feels gropingly for a chair, and sits down on the floor_). +Him, _too_! Ah, HAUSTUS, you will never make my home a real home for me. My +poor first husband, HALVARD SOLNESS, tried--and _he_ couldn't! When one has +had such misfortunes as I have--all the family portraits burnt, and the +silk dresses, too, and a pair of twins, and nine lovely dolls. + + [_Chokes with tears._ + +_Dr. Herd._ (_as if to lead her away from the subject_). Yes, yes, yes, +that must have been a heavy blow for you, my poor ALINE. I can understand +that your spirits can never be really high again. And then for poor Master +Builder SOLNESS to be so taken up with that Miss WANGEL as he was--that, +too, was so wretched for you. To see him topple off the tower, as he did +that day ten years ago---- + +_Mrs. Herd._ Yes, that too, HAUSTUS. But I did not mind it so much--it all +seemed so perfectly natural in both of them. + +_Dr. Herd._ Natural! For a girl of twenty-three to taunt a middle-aged +architect, whom she knew to be constitutionally liable to giddiness, never +to let him have any peace till he had climbed a spire as dizzy as +himself--and all for the fun of seeing him fall off--how in the world----! + +_Mrs. Herd._ (_laying the table for supper with dried fish and punch_). The +younger generation have a keener sense of humour than we elder ones, +HAUSTUS, and perhaps, after all, she was only a perplexing sort of +allegory. + +_Dr. Herd._ Yes, that would explain her to some extent, no doubt. But how +_he_ could be such an old fool! + +_Mrs. Herd._ That Miss WANGEL was a strangely fascinating type of girl. +Why, even I myself---- + +_Dr. Herd._ (_sits down and takes some fish_). Fascinating? Well, goodness +knows, I couldn't see _that_ at all. (_Seriously._) Has it never struck +you, ALINE, that elderly Norwegians are so deucedly impressionable--mere +bundles of overstrained nerves, hypersensitive ganglia. Except, of course, +the Medical Profession. + +_Mrs. Herd._ Yes, of course; those in that profession are not so inclined +to gangle. And when one has succeeded by such a stroke of luck as you +have---- + +_Dr. Herd._ (_drinks a glass of punch_). You're right enough there. If I +had not been called in to prescribe for Dr. RYVAL, who used to have the +leading practice here, I should never have stepped so wonderfully into his +shoes as I did. (_Changes to a tone of quiet chuckling merriment._) Let me +tell you a funny story, ALINE; it sounds a ludicrous thing--but all my good +fortune here was based upon a simple little pill. For if Dr. RYVAL had +never taken it---- + +_Mrs. Herd._ (_anxiously_). Then you _do_ think it was the pill that caused +him to----? + +_Dr. Herd._ On the contrary; I am perfectly sure the pill had nothing +whatever to do with it--the inquest made it quite clear that it was really +the liniment. But don't you see, ALINE, what tortures me night and day is +the thought that it _might_ unconsciously have been the pill which----Never +to be free from _that_! To have such a thought gnawing and burning +always--always, like a moral mustard poultice! (_He takes more punch._) + +_Mrs. Herd._ Yes; I suppose there is a poultice of that sort burning on +every breast--and we must never take it off either--it is our simple duty +to keep it on. I too, HAUSTUS, am haunted by a fancy that if this Miss +WANGEL were to ring at our bell now---- + +_Dr. Herd._ After she has been lost sight of for ten years? She is safe +enough in some Sanatorium, depend upon it. And what if she _did_ come? Do +you think, my dear good woman, that I--a sensible clear-headed general +practitioner, who have found out all I know for myself--would let her play +the deuce with me as she did with poor HALVARD? No, general practitioners +don't _do_ such things--even in Norway! + +_Mrs. Herd._ Don't they indeed, HAUSTUS? (_The Surgery-bell rings loudly._) +Did you hear _that_? There she is! I will go and put on my best cap. It is +my duty to show her _that_ small attention. + +_Dr. Herd._ (_laughing nervously_). Why, what on earth!----It's the +night-bell. It is most probably the new book-keeper! (Mrs. HERDAL _goes +out_; Dr. HERDAL _rises with difficulty, and opens the door_.) Goodness +gracious!--it _is_ that girl, after all! + +_Hilda Wangel_ (_enters through the Dispensary door. She wears a divided +skirt, thick boots, and a Tam o'Shanter, with an eagle's wing in it. +Somewhat freckled. Carries a green tin cylinder slung round her, and a rug +in a strap. Goes straight up to_ HERDAL, _her eyes sparkling with +happiness_). How are you? I've run you down, you see! The ten years are up. +Isn't it scrumptiously thrilling, to see me like this? + +_Dr. Herd._ (_politely retreating_). It is--very much so--but still I don't +in the least understand---- + +_Hilda_ (_measures him with a glance_). Oh, you _will_. I have come to be +of use to you. I've no luggage, and no money. Not that _that_ makes any +difference. I never _have_. And I've been allured and attracted here. You +surely know how these things come about? [_Throws her arms round him._ + +_Dr. Herd._ What the deuce! Miss WANGEL, you _mustn't_. I'm a married man! +There's my wife! [Mrs. HERD. _enters_. + +_Hilda._ As if _that_ mattered--it's only dear, sweet Mrs. SOLNESS. _She_ +doesn't mind--_do_ you, dear Mrs. SOLNESS? + +_Mrs. Herd._ It does not seem to be of much _use_ minding, Miss WANGEL. I +presume you have come to stay? + +_Hilda_ (_in amused surprise_). Why, of course--what else should I come +for? I _always_ come to stay, until--h'm! + + [_Nods slowly, and sits down at table._ + +_Dr. Herd._ (_involuntarily_). She's drinking my punch! If she thinks I'm +going to stand this sort of thing, she's mistaken. I'll soon show her a +Pill-Doctor is a very different kind of person from a mere Master Builder! + + [HILDA _finishes the punch with an indefinable expression in her eyes, + and_ Dr. HERDAL _looks on gloomily as the Curtain falls. End of First + Act._ + + * * * * * + +"AMONG THE MEMORABLE BOOKS OF THE PRESENT RAINE."--Canon RAINE has just +published (_per_ LONGMANS) his _York_, as one of the series of Historic +Towns. The proofs of RAINE on _York_ of course came very moist from the +press. Is there a frontispiece to it of "RAINE poring over his own book?" +The work is highly spoken of,--so _disons_, "_Vive le Raine!_" + + * * * * * + +Mr. WILSON BARRETT is to appear in a play called _Pharaoh_--"What the +plague!"--Is he coming out as an Egyptian Mummer? Will the drama prove +interesting to plague-goers? + + * * * * * + +A FULL MEASURE OF JUSTICE. + +(_According to the Modern Method._) + + SCENE--_The Old Bailey._ Judge _seated on the Bench, thoroughly + enjoying himself_. Prisoner _in the Dock_. Jurymen _in the Box_. + Counsel, Solicitors, _and_ Public, _in attendance_. + +_Judge._ Now I will swear the Jury. + +_Officer of the Court._ I beg your Lordship's pardon, but I have always +been accustomed to---- + +_Judge_ (_interrupting_). Not at all; I will do it myself. You can't give +_me_ too much work. (_Swears the_ Jury.) And now, Prisoner, what do you +plead, guilty or not guilty? + +_Prisoner._ Well, my Lord, I should say---- + +[Illustration] + +_Judge._ Not guilty. Quite right, always give yourself the benefit of the +doubt. You can't imagine what stupid Jurymen we have sometimes. Quite right +to say Not guilty. And now who appears for the prosecution? + +_Counsel._ I do, my Lord, I---- + +_Judge._ Glad to see the eminent counsel here, and I know of no one who can +better conduct a case. Still, with my learned friend's or rather my learned +brother's, I should say the learned Counsel's permission, I will just open +for the Crown myself. (_Opens for the Crown with brilliant effect. +Applause._) No; I cannot allow any demonstration of that sort. By the way +(_to_ Counsel for the Prosecution), Have we any witnesses? + +_Counsel._ Yes, my Lord, a Police Sergeant. + +_Judge._ Oh, indeed, I will soon settle him. (Witness _enters box and is +sworn_.) And now, you Sir, I am not going to allow any speeches--so be on +your guard. (_Examines and cross-examines him._) Have we any more +witnesses? + +_Counsel._ No, my Lord--that is our case. + +_Judge._ Quite so. The face of the learned Counsel, who is retained for the +defence, is new to me, but if he has no objection, I will open for him. + +_Counsel._ As your Lordship pleases. + +_Judge._ Thank you. (_Addresses the Jury._) And now, if we have no +witnesses, I think I will sum up. (_To_ Counsel for the Defence.) Have we +any witnesses? + +_Counsel._ As your Lordship pleases. + +_Judge._ Well, I think we won't call any witnesses, because then the +Prosecution won't have a reply. + +_Counsel._ As your Lordship pleases. + +_Judge._ Quite so. And now, Gentlemen of the Jury, I have now my own +special functions to perform. I will sum up the case in my judicial +capacity. You must know then----(_Sums up._) And now I will leave you to +decide upon your verdict. (_Jury consults._) Or perhaps you would like to +leave the matter to me? + +_Foreman of the Jury._ As your Lordship pleases. + +_Judge._ Thank you. Then I think we may say "Guilty." Prisoner at the Bar, +it is now my duty to sentence you. I think, under all the circumstances of +the case, that I need not treat you too harshly. There is no doubt that the +prosecution has been conducted in a very able manner; and this remark is +equally applicable to the manner in which the defence has been carried out. +I think a month's imprisonment will be sufficient. Prisoner, you are +sentenced to a month's imprisonment. + +_Prisoner._ As your Lordship pleases. + +_Judge._ But, as I have had a good deal to do with this case, I think I may +as well remain in it to the end. So, with the consent of the convict, the +Counsel, and the Jury, I will go to prison myself. + +_The Entire Court._ As your Lordship pleases. + +_Judge._ Thank you all very much. I hope, after a month's retirement, to +have the pleasure of meeting you again. + + [_Exit, in custody. Curtain._ + + * * * * * + +FOR A FEW NIGHTS OHNET.--Mr. and Mrs. KENDAL have revived _The Ironmaster_. +As may be imagined, the dialogue is full of irony. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE OLD COUNTRY. ST. WYCLIFFE'S COLLEGE, OXBRIDGE. + +_Mr. Jonah P. Skeggs, from Chicago (with his family) suddenly bursts on +Jones, who keeps at Letter A in the Cloisters._ + +"SIR--WE OFFER YOU--MANY APOLOGIES--FOR THIS--UNWARRANTABLE INTRUSION! WE +WERE NOT AWARE THE OLD RUIN WAS INHABITED!"] + + * * * * * + +BETWEEN THE ROUNDS. + + ["The record of the Opposition, so far, is one of wasted opportunities + and ill-conceived tactics. They have been beaten, out-manoeuvred and + discredited by a foe on whom, with proper management, they might often + have turned the tables.... These are no days for punctilious or + overstrained courtesy in dealing with political opponents.... + Conservatives and Unionists may be tolerably certain that they will + gain nothing by this misplaced delicacy."--_The Standard._] + +_Perturbed Old Party loquitur_:-- + + Wich, ARTHUR, I'm puffeck aweer as a fighter you're truly tip-top, + Our party's pecooliar pride, and our cause's particular prop! + _You_ can "pop in a slommacking wunner," if ever a lad could, dear boy: + But--well, there, you ain't scored _this_ round; and yer foes is + a-chortling with joy! + 'Ow is it, my ARTHUR, 'ow is it! I've nurriged you up from a kid, + And if ever a lathy young scrapper showed pluck and fair promidge, boy, + _you_ did; + Wich I've cheridged and cracked you up constant, and backed you in all of + your fights. + And I've swore it was you, right as rain, as would do the Grand Ould 'Un + to rights! + But he's turned up more younger than ever--O drabbit him; 'ow he do + wear!-- + I thought he'd be knocked out at once, the fust round, and he ain't + turned a hair! + He hits hard and fast as the "TINMAN," he's nimble as poor "Young + DUCROW." + And now this round's over, _where are we_? I'm jiggered, dear boy, if _I_ + know! + Look at 'im! As perky as pickles! Weaves in like a young 'un, he do, + Jest as limber of limb as a kitten; pops in that perdigious one--two, + Like a new Eighty-tonner. Good gracious, the wetterun's all over the + shop! + He can mill you, or throw you a burster; feint, parry, duck, counter, or + stop! + Reglar mixture of MACE, Young DUTCH SAM, and a Old Pugilistical 'And! + 'Ow the dooce does he do it, I wonder? I don't mind admitting it's grand. + But--wot price our Party, my ARTHUR? He's scoring two points to our one; + And I don't see the fun of it, ARTHUR, I certinly _don't_ see the fun. + + Mustn't take it to heart overmuch, 'ARTY! 'Taint as I wants for to scold; + But--you play him too light--_entry noo_! 'Taint acos you are young, and + he's old. + As you need be so precious "punctilious." Delicate 'andling of _him_ + Won't pay; it's misplaced altogether. Go at him, lad! Lam the old limb! + His bellows can't be as they used to wos. Youth will be served--that's + your chance; + But, if you play light with Old Shifty, he'll lead you no end of a dance. + Think of BENJY, dear boy, my old champion, bless his black curls! _He_ + wired in, + Never thinking of manners or taste, wich is muck when you're fighting to + win. + Look at GRANDOLPH, the Marlborough Midget, as often reminds me of BEN! + There--there! Don't turn touchy, and tiff; we all need a straight tip now + and then. + You can do him, next round, I've no doubt, if you'll only fight up to + your form. + Pull yourself well together, 'it 'ard, bustle up the old boy, make it + warm!-- + Remember wot JOHNNY BROOME'S mother once wrote to her boy--mark, and + mind!-- + "Be sure you make use of your left; keep away from your man till you find + You can reach him in safety, and _then_--give him pepper. Avoid being + thrown. + But give 'im all the bursters you can!" Wich that Ammyzon, who is beknown + To the fistical world, gave her son--as you're mine--werry proper advice. + When time's called, my ARTHUR, wire in; and wotever you do, _don't be + nice_! + No "overstrained courtesy" _this_ time! It's blessed nigh bunnicked your + chance. + Let me fan you, dear boy, let me fan you! And when it is time to hadvance + Go at 'im for all you are wuth! Bless yer, him and his low Irish lot + Won't be in it with GENTLEMAN ARTHUR--_if only you'll give it him hot_! + + [_Left fanning and fuming._ + + * * * * * + +SHAKSPEARII JUNIORES.--Sir AUGUSTUS HARRIS'S and PETTITT'S _Prodigal +Daughter_ is going all over the shop. She is coming out in France, in +Germany, also, of course, in the Horse-tryin' capital, and will appear, as +a matter-of-Corso, in Rome. This for the original English authors is a +dramatic triumph which for the universality of their work is second only to +that of SHAKSPEARE. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: BETWEEN THE ROUNDS. + +PERTURBED OLD PARTY (_loq._) "WHICH, ARTHUR MY DEAR, YOU'VE TREATED HIM TOO +DELICATE IN FUST ROUND! YOU'LL 'AVE TO PULL YERSELF TOGETHER, IF YOU'RE +A-GOIN' TO DO ANY GOOD!"] + + * * * * * + +POPULAR SONGS RE-SUNG. + +THE MAN THAT SMOKES THE RANK TWO-D CIGAR, OH! + +AIR--"_The Man that broke the Bank at Monte Carlo._" + +[Illustration] + + [_Pardon, good_ GILBERT, _pardon, genial_ COBORN, _That from the Bois + Boolong. Unto the Cockney purlieus of 'Igh 'Olborn, We shift your + famous song._] + + I'm just "all there," no 'ARRY; I've the money, so I score! + To a Race last week I went, + And there staked a quarter's rent. + Dame Fortune smiled upon me as she never done before: + And now I've copped the ochre I'm a gent! + Yus, now I've piled the pieces, I'm a gent! + + _Chorus._ + + As I mash and lark in Finsbury Park, + With a free an' heasy hair, + You can twig the donahs stare. + "BOB must be a millionnaire!" + You can 'ear 'em cry, + "Oh, ain't _'e_ fly? + And carn't 'e wink the hother heye?" + The man wot smokes the prime Two-D cigar, oh! + + I've chucked my crib, and two-quid-screw, for betting's now _my_ walk; + I do my mornin' march + Down to the Marble Arch. + I'm bound to spot more winners; I've a eye that's like a 'awk; + I'm a mass of oof and 'air-oil, shine and starch; + Yus, a reg'lar mass of ochre, shine and starch. + + _Chorus._ + + As I walk along, still "going strong," + With my Tuppenny all a-flare, + You can 'ear old buffers swear, + As my baccy scents the air. + You can hear 'em sigh, + And moan, "Oh my!" + You can see 'em choke, and blink the heye + At "the man wot smokes the rank Two-D cigar, oh!" + + I paternise the Promenards on a Sunday, with the Swells, + With my topper on the skew, + And my cloud a-blowin' blue; + For a tuppenny smoke and a leary joke they nobble the mam'selles, + And if they're nuts on me, wot can _I_ do? + Yus, if they're arter me, wot can _I_ do? + + _Chorus._ + + As I swagger and swell along Pell-Mell, + With a reg'lar oof-bird air, + You can 'ear sour swells declare, + "A Whitechapel weed!"--and swear. + But their narsty cry + Means--jealousy. + So I puff, and wink the hother heye-- + "The man wot smokes the rank Two-D Cigar, oh!" + + * * * * * + +Nuts for Knutsford. + +In the City Article of last Saturday's _Times_, we read that Lord KNUTSFORD +has joined the London Board of "CHAFFEY, BROS., Limited." What a festive +board! What a rivalry must exist among the CHAFFEY Brothers as to who shall +be the chaffiest and the wheatiest of the family! + + * * * * * + +WOMEN'S WRONGS IN JAPAN. + + [The new Japanese Press Bill prohibits women from becoming Publishers + or Editors.--_Daily Graphic._] + +[Illustration] + + A Land of flowers and of Art, + Which lived for centuries apart, + Some years ago woke with a start; + Folks, simply dressed by wrappin' knees + In silken robes of dainty hue, + Began to long for something new + The good, the beautiful, the true + No longer charmed the Japanese. + + So Western Art improved their lot; + A House of Commons grew. Each got + Boots, trousers, frock-coat, chimney-pot. + "Art? 'E don't care a rap, an' 'e's," + Saus 'ARRY, "sich a swell! I'm blowed + 'E'd knock 'em in the Old Kent Road." + You are a sight, dressed _à la mode_ + O too-progressive Japanese! + + And yet, to _Madame Chrysanthème_, + Divided Skirter, Primrose Dame, + And all the rest, are but a name; + It therefore cannot happen ease + Is yours, although men dress like frights, + And even have election fights; + One thing is wanting--Women's Rights, + O _fin-de-siècle_ Japanese! + + * * * * * + +THE COMING COAL-SCUTTLE. + +[Illustration] + + Sweet Maiden, what is this you wear, + This most eccentric sort of bonnet, + That stands erect upon your hair + As though a coal-scoop fixed upon it? + + A very funny shape it seems, + Flat, oval, rather like a shuttle, + Or, like some Statesmen's foreign schemes, + A sort of undecided scuttle. + + And yet not wholly of the kind + Beloved by loud Salvation lasses, + Which brings the coal-box to one's mind-- + BOOTH'S fashions would not suit the Classes. + + There's some resemblance to a spoon, + But you are not considered "spooney"-- + Word coined by some low buffoon, + Romantic, quite, as "_Annie Rooney_." + + It's rather like the ace of spades, + And yet it plays the deuce with features, + O Queen of hearts, of pretty maids, + So say we knaves of clubs, male creatures; + + Who look askance at what may shade-- + When larger grown--the face that charms us. + If scoop or scuttle, spoon or spade, + No matter; each of them alarms us. + + * * * * * + +A POSSIBLE BUNGLER.--Through REUTER'S Agency last Friday, we learn that +"BUNGLE KHAN is in Afghan territory." Capital man to be opposed to us. We +shall be ready to take any advantage of him, as, if BUNGLE KHAN _can +bungle_, he will of course do so. + + * * * * * + +ONE FOR THE OTHER SIDE.--Mrs. R. cannot understand how Mr. GLADSTONE can +advocate Monometallism in the House of Commons, as, she says, she has +always heard that "Words are silver, and silence is gold." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: EMBARRASSING. + +_Curate._ "HELLO, REGIE! AH, IT'S GOOD TO BE YOU! A POOR BEGGAR LIKE ME, +YOU SEE, HAS TO BE CONTENT WITH RUNNING AFTER THE HOUNDS ON FOOT." + +_Regie_ (_who, as the Son of our M.F.H., has all the Hunting-Man's horror +of Foot-people_). "AH--YES. AND THE PATER SAYS HE WOULDN'T MIND THAT SO +MUCH, IF ONLY HALF THE PARISH DIDN'T SOMETIMES TURNOUT TO RUN AFTER +_YOU_!"] + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. + +_House of Commons, Monday, February 27._--"Am thinking, TOBY," said RIGBY, +just now, "of applying for Chiltern Hundreds. Parliament isn't quite the +place I pictured to myself when I fought for a seat. Of course I've done +pretty well. To be made SOLICITOR-GENERAL right off, with WADDY around, and +WILLIS still in prime of life and energy, was a fine thing. But House seems +perversely inclined to accept me as a joke, and that's not the sort of +thing I'm accustomed to at Chancery Bar. Look what happened the other +night, when, in my learned brother RUSSELL'S absence, I answered questions. +Did it in my best, most imposing, and conclusive style. Kept my eye on +SPEAKER throughout, to see how he'd take it. Effect most satisfactory. You +know I make CHITTY sit up, and NORTH tremble. They, to certain extent, used +to it; all new to SPEAKER, and told accordingly. Was really fascinated +myself. I frowned at him, pursed my mouth, wrinkled my forehead, squared my +jaw, sometimes lowered my voice into my boots, anon uplifted it above where +my wig ought to have been. Being my first appearance at table, thought it +worth while to make an effort. Judging from SPEAKER'S limp appearance +towards conclusion of my remarks, felt I had done it. Suddenly curious +noise, that I'm told is known as a titter, interrupted me, and, before I +had quite finished, there was a boisterous roar of laughter." + +"Oh, come," I said, "you mustn't take that too much to heart. House will +have its joke, and, if you won't make it, it sometimes makes it round you, +using you as lay-figure. Your voice and manner in answering simple +matter-of-fact question, were perhaps a size or so too large. But you'll +get the hang of the place by-and-by, and will be all right." + +"I don't think so," said SOLICITOR-GENERAL, sadly. "Look again what +happened just now. House unexpectedly goes into Committee. Can't find +MELLOR. 'You take the Chair,' says the SQUIRE; 'you'll fill it admirably.' +No time for hesitation; I take the Chair; Clerk claps Bill into my hand. I +say, 'Question is, that I do report progress, and ask leave to sit again.' +Shouts of 'Aye,' and 'No.' 'I think the Ayes have it,' I say, in deep +chest-notes, with persuasive fall of eyebrows. 'The Noes have it!' they +shout. Very well; first duty of Chairman is to be impartial; so _I_ say, +'The Noes have it.' Again they roar with laughter. WOODALL, in charge of +Bill, feels for sword of Financial Secretary to War Office. Fortunately, +can't find it. Otherwise, Chair of Committees might have been steepled with +my gore. What shall I do next? 'Put question again,' Clerk hoarsely +whispered. 'Question is, that I do report progress, and ask leave to sit +again. Those who are of that opinion say Aye; the contrary, No. I think the +Ayes have it.' That would at least get me out of the Chair, and you +certainly won't find me asking for leave to sit again. But what follows? In +all parts of the House, just now opposing progress, hilarious shout of 'No! +No!' rises up. That means I'm to go on with the Bill; but I know if I +declare 'the Noes have it,' they'll turn round to the 'Ayes.' So, after +standing for moment irresolutely, Bill in hand, I'm not ashamed to say I +bolted from table, taking Bill with me. House roared louder than ever. Seem +to have discovered excellent joke. But I don't see it, TOBY. If this is +House of Commons life, give me the dignity and quiet of the Chancery Bar." + +Quite a procession of new Members took their seats on election. Honours of +the day with HARRY LAWSON, who, after stubborn fight, has won Cirencester. +As young HARRY, with his beaver on, marched to table, Liberals temporarily +relieved themselves from imputation that they don't know how to cheer. + +_Business done._--Local Veto Bill brought in. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: APPLYING FOR THE CHILTERN HUNDREDS.] + +_Tuesday Night._--"It's a natural temptation," said CHARLES RUSSELL, "for +the human mind to believe that Mr. G.'s latest performance at table of +House of Commons excels all he has done before. There is a phrase--you are +probably familiar with it in HORACE--which speaks of the _Laudator temporis +acti_. But the other impulse is certainly, in this connection, quite as +strong, I, therefore, hesitate to affirm that that's the best speech Mr. G. +ever made; but certainly it's among the best." + +[Illustration: Young Harry obtaining his Majority on Coming of Age in the +Parliamentary Time.] + +It was on Bimetallism. Like olives and claret, Bimetallism quite an +acquired taste; ordinary Member will have none of it; flees House when +subject announced. In the Parliamentary world, Bimetallism supplies part of +the BROWNING or IBSEN cult known out-of-doors. Analogy accurate inasmuch, +that whilst mass of mankind are averse to contemplation of topic, the few +faithful pass all ordinary bounds in the enthusiasm of their worship. Thus, +for upwards of hour to-night, MEYSEY-THOMPSON handled it as if he loved it. +MONTAGU, whilst musically jingling in trowser-pocket handful of +newly-minted sovereigns, equally adulatory. Then Mr. G. walked in. It was +reasonably thought in advance that Bimetallism would prove too much even +for the charm of his oratory. Had evidently come down unprepared for +special effort; neither sheaf of notes nor pomatum-pot. He listened to +mover and seconder, and then just talked to entranced House, crowding up in +every corner. Quite surprised, as Mr. G. was himself when he sat down, to +find he'd been talking for an hour. + +_Business done._--House declares by 229 votes against 148, will have +nothing to do with Bimetallism. + + * * * * * + +_Wednesday._--Hear a very pleasant thing in connection with an old friend. +Am told that as soon as Local Veto Bill passes into law, WILFRID LAWSON is +to be raised to the Peerage. + +"Why not?" asks SQUIRE OF MALWOOD. "On the principle that the Devil +shouldn't have all the good tunes suitable for WESLEY'S hymns, why should +the Trade have the monopoly of the Peerage? Why shouldn't there be a +Viscount APPOLINARIS as well as a Baron BASS, a Lord BARLEYWATER to pair +off with a Baron BARLEYCORN? Let us drink (in toast-and-water), health and +long life to Lord BARLEYWATER of Brayton!" + +_Business done._--In discussion on Irish National Education Bill GRANDOLPH +effects little surprise. Been running admirably in double harness with +Prince ARTHUR. This afternoon suddenly jibs; nearly upsets coach. + + * * * * * + +_Friday_, 1 A.M.--"Begin to think, TOBY," said Prince ARTHUR, as we walked +home together in the moonlight, "that we shall scotch this Home-Rule Bill +yet. Expectation only just dawned on me. When I went down to House in the +afternoon, was of different opinion. Had philosophically settled down to +acceptance of inevitable. Might maim it a bit in Committee; play with it so +as to block off other business, and send it up to Lords at so late period +of Session that they would seem justified in throwing it out, on score of +inadequate time to discuss it. Now I think we shall go one better. COURTNEY +thought he could serve Unionist cause better from standpoint below Gangway. +The supremest service he could render to that cause was effected when he +created vacancy in Chair." + +"Don't you think," I said, "they were a little hard on MELLOR? Wasn't the +sport something after the fashion of the gallant emprise in Windsor Park +with the carted stag? And then the merry sportsmen didn't give the new +Chairman the ordinary courtesy of a fair start and a little run." + +"Oh," said Prince ARTHUR, "if you put it in that way, of course there's +something to be said. But all is fair in hate and war. Mr. G. should have +thought of that before he got rid of COURTNEY. Our business is to stop +Home-Rule Bill from passing, and after to-night the way is clear, and the +goal certain." + +_Business done._--New Chairman baited for an hour by Westminster Clock. +Before the lawless, disorderly squabble about Law and Order in County +Clare, regular foot-ball scrimmage, in which SAUNDERSON naturally turned +up. In one of the pauses the Colonel dropped into poetry? could hear him +crooning to himself:-- + + There's Justice O'BRIEN of Clare, + How rare! + 'Tis little for justice they care + Down there! + + They're choke full of crimes, + (So at least says the _Times_), + And they've got no policemen to spare, + How quare! + They've got no policemen to spare. + +_Friday Night._--Seems, after all, MELLOR quite right in his ruling +yesterday. Point was that, on supplementary Estimate, you may not debate +questions of policy settled when original vote agreed to. Prince ARTHUR +denounced this as absolutely novel principle. CHAMBERLAIN kept game up from +other side, and for full hour conviction borne in upon new Chairman that +life not worth living. SPEAKER, appealed to to-day, declares MELLOR to have +been in the right. Report of Select Committee on Estimates. Procedure cited +to show COURTNEY categorically laid down the principle challenged, and +systematically acted upon it. + +[Illustration: Irish National Football Match.] + +"Yes," said SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, reflectively stroking his chin, "and +COURTNEY might have got up and said so last night. Only his fatal +bashfulness, his irreclaimably retiring disposition, could have kept him +silent in such circumstances. True, his interposition would have spoiled +the little game of his friends. It would not have been War, but it would +have been Magnanimous." + +_Business done._--ALBERT ROLLIT, and Ex-Lord Mayor WHITEHEAD, carry +Resolution declaring Revised Railway Rates prejudicial to commercial +interests of country. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. +104, MARCH 11, 1893*** + + +******* This file should be named 22691-8.txt or 22691-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/6/9/22691 + + + +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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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, March 11, 1893</p> +<p>Author: Various</p> +<p>Editor: Francis Burnand</p> +<p>Release Date: September 20, 2007 [eBook #22691]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 104, MARCH 11, 1893***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Matt Whittaker, Juliet Sutherland,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + +<h2>VOL. 104.</h2> + + + + +<h2>March 11, 1893.</h2> + + +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page109" id="page109"></a>[pg 109]</span> + +<h2>MIXED NOTIONS.</h2> + +<p class="center">No. VI.—REGISTRATION REFORM.</p> + +<p class="center">(<i>Scene and Persons as Usual.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>First Well-Informed Man</i> (<i>bristling with indignation, as he lays +down his newspaper</i>). Well, I'm dashed!</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer</i> (<i>nervously</i>). What's up?</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> <i>What's up!</i> Everything's up. Up the spout, +that's where this blessed country will be if this kind of thing's +going on.</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer.</i> What kind of thing?</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> Why, all this gerrymandering kind of business.</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer.</i> Oh, by the way, that reminds me. I came on that word +the other day. Can any of you chaps tell me what it means?</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> It's as plain as +a pikestaff. It means playing +ducks and drakes with things all +round, and letting the whole +business go thoroughly rotten.</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer.</i> Has it got anything +to do with jerry-builders?</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> It's the same +thing precisely.</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer</i> (<i>insisting</i>). But what's +the point of calling 'em jerry? +Where does that come in?</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> It's a French +word.</p> + +<p><i>Second W. I. M.</i> It isn't. +It's German.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> Bosh, it's French.</p> + +<p><i>Second W. I. M.</i> I bet you a +dollar it's German.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> And I bet you +a dollar it's French. (<i>To Average +Man.</i>) Here, you decide. Which +is it?</p> + +<p><i>Average Man.</i> Well, I'm sure +it isn't French——</p> + +<p><i>Second W. I. M.</i> (<i>interrupting</i>). +Of course it isn't. Pay up, my boy!</p> + +<p><i>Average Man</i> (<i>continuing</i>). But, +on the other hand, it isn't German.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> Oh, rot! It +must be one or the other, you +know. (<i>Scornfully.</i>) You'll be +telling us it's Greek next.</p> + +<p><i>Average Man.</i> Well, of course, +it <i>might</i> be; but, as a matter of +fact, I fancy it's English.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i>, <i>Second W. I. M.</i> +(<i>together</i>). Oh, you tell that to the +Marines! It won't wash here.</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer</i> (<i>doubtfully</i>). Perhaps +it's American.</p> + +<p><i>Average Man</i> (<i>resignedly</i>). +Well I daresay it is. Any way, +you can have it so if you like, +It may be Sanskrit for all I care.</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Retires to his paper. A pause.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Inquirer</i> (<i>to First W. I. M.</i>). +But, look here, what made you lose +your hair, just now? You looked +as angry as blazes about something.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> (<i>with dignity</i>). +Did I? Well, isn't it enough to +make anybody, who loves his country, +angry when he sees what's +going on. Why, the Government's going to turn everything inside +out, with some blessed new law about elections. Registration Bill, +they call it, or something of that sort. Just as if we hadn't had +enough tinkering and pottering lately. It's all through this confounded +County Council interfering with everything.</p> + +<p><i>Second W. I. M.</i> (<i>aggressive</i>). What the dickens has the County +Council got to do with it? You're always dropping on the County +Council.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> Oh, they've got their finger in every pie. I'm +pretty certain this is their job.</p> + +<p><i>Second W. I. M.</i> Well, you're wrong this time, that's all. +You're thinking of the Employers' Liability Bill.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> No, I'm not. I never even heard of it. So that's +where <i>you're</i> wrong. What has the Employers' Liabill got——I +mean the Employers' (<i>steadily, and with determination</i>) Li-a-bil-ity +Bill got to do with the County Council?</p> + +<p><i>Second W. I. M.</i> Everything. Didn't you read <span class="sc">John Burns's</span> +speech about it?</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> No—and I don't mean to. Ask me another.</p> + +<p><i>Second W. I. M.</i> All right—I will. Do you mean to deny that +our present Registration System is a ridiculous one?</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> (<i>hotly</i>). Yes, I do.</p> + +<p><i>Second W. I. M.</i> (<i>with triumph</i>). Ah, I've got you now. You +said, only yesterday, that any system by which a Government like +this got into power must be ridiculous. (<i>To</i> Inquirer.) Didn't he?</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer</i> (<i>hesitating</i>). Well, I'm not quite sure. I rather fancy he +did say something of that kind. But—(<i>deprecatingly</i>)—perhaps he meant something else.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> No, I didn't. I meant what I said—and I stick +to it. But that isn't the same thing as the Registration System.</p> + +<p><i>Second W. I. M.</i> Perhaps you'll tell us, then, what the Registration +System is?</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer</i> (<i>eagerly</i>). Yes, do. I +should like to get to the bottom of +it, because I'm constantly meeting +a sort of third cousin of mine, +who's a Registrar of something or +other, and I never quite know +what he does. All I know is, that +he isn't a Registrar in Bankruptcy.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> Let me see—how +can I put it shortly? It's +just this—you chaps have got votes.</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer</i> (<i>decisively</i>). No, I +haven't.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> (<i>put out</i>). Ah, +but you ought to have.</p> + +<p><i>Second W. I. M.</i> (<i>cutting in</i>). +There you are again. That's just +what I've been saying all along. +He ought to have—but he hasn't; +so where's your beautiful system +now?</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> (<i>retreating strategically</i>). +I never said it was <i>perfect</i>, +did I? But I'll come to that +afterwards. (<i>To</i> Inquirer.) Now +why haven't you got a vote?</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer</i> (<i>with a painful sense +of inferiority</i>). I'm sure I don't +know. I suppose the old Johnny, +whoever he is, didn't chalk me +down when he went round last +time.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> Probably you +haven't lived in your house long +enough. You haven't got a +qualifying period.</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer.</i> Haven't I? How long +ought I to have lived there?</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> (<i>vaguely</i>). Oh, +it's something between three and +four years. I can't tell you the +exact number; they alter it every +year.</p> + +<p><i>Second W. I. M.</i> Who alter it?</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> The Revising +Barristers, or somebody.</p> + +<p><i>Second W. I. M.</i> Well, my +brother-in-law's a Revising Barrister, +and I never heard of him +doing that.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> (<i>sarcastic</i>). But +you don't suppose he'd tell <i>you</i> +everything he does, do you?</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer.</i> But I've lived in my house six years.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> Ah! but aren't you a lodger?</p> + +<p><i>Second W. I. M.</i> What's the odds if he is? My brother's a +lodger, and I know he's got a vote.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> But that's a different franchise altogether.</p> + +<p><i>Second W. I. M.</i> How do you mean? They're both lodgers.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> But they don't live in the same district. Perhaps +they don't give him a latch-key.</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer</i> (<i>producing it</i>). Yes they do. Here it is. (<i>Chuckles</i>.) I think +I jolly well see myself without a latch-key. But, I say, about this vote. +I don't half like not having got one. What shall I do about it?</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> You'd better see somebody about it.</p> + +<p><i>Inquirer.</i> Somebody was talking about Leasehold Franchise the +other day. Perhaps I could get in on that.</p> + +<p><i>First W. I. M.</i> Ah! I daresay that <i>might</i> help you. [<i>Terminus.</i></p> + +<hr /> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:40%;"><a href="images/109.png"><img width="100%" src="images/109.png" alt="NOUS AVONS CHANGÉ TOUT CELA!" /></a><h3>"NOUS AVONS CHANGÉ TOUT CELA!"</h3> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Were you ever in Chicago, Duchess?</span>"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Why yes, Lady Mary. It's my Native Place, you know—at +least, it used to be!</span>"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">New Novel by</span> Mr. G.—<i>The Art of Midlothian.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page110" id="page110"></a>[pg 110]</span><div class="figcenter" style="width:65%;"><a href="images/110.png"><img width="100%" src="images/110.png" alt="DRESS REHEARSAL OF EMINENT COMEDIANS, GRANDOLPH AND SARUM" /></a><h3>DRESS REHEARSAL OF EMINENT COMEDIANS, GRANDOLPH AND SARUM,</h3> +<p class="center"><i>Previous to Starring Tour in Scotland and Ireland respectively</i>.</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page111" id="page111"></a>[pg 111]</span><h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<p><i>Time and the Woman.</i> By <span class="sc">Richard Pryce</span>. Not by any means +a pearl of Pryce, and certainly not likely to make so great noise in +the novel-reading world as did <i>The Quiet Mrs. Fleming</i>, by the +same author. <span class="sc">Methuen & Co</span>. publish it.</p> + +<p>The Baron heartily recommends <span class="sc">Frank Barrett's</span> novel, in three +vols., entitled, <i>Kitty's Father</i>. A thoroughly absorbing plot, well +worked out, and interesting right up to the last page. <i>Kitty's</i> father +is a mysterious person, and she, not being a wise child, for she doesn't +know him, does several foolish things, and says several wise ones. +<i>Kitty's</i> uncle is a necessary nuisance, but a cleverly and consistently +drawn character, +while <i>Kitty</i> herself is delightfully +made out of good +home-spun material. But +the villanous Curate is +just a bit too grotesque, +too Uriah-Heepish for the +awfully tragic situation in +which he is placed. When +the imaginative author +shifts the scene to Dublin, +why did he not represent +an Irish Cardinal-Archbishop +as waiting at the +stage-door to escort home +the light-and-leading lady? +But "for a' that and a' +that," most decidedly +"read it," quoth the +Baron, and on he goes +again.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Marion Crauford's</span> +<i>Children of the King</i>, published +by <span class="sc">Macmillan</span>, is +a tragic story, told in +most simple and most +fascinating style. It is all +colour and character: the +colours and the characters +being those of Southern +Italy.</p> + +<p>Out of regard to the +importunities of numerous +correspondents, the Baron +has read <span class="sc">Ibsen's</span> <i>Master +Builder</i>, translated by two +of the Ibsenitish cult. +"Only fancy!" Of all +the weak-knee'd, wandering, +effeminate, unwholesome, +immoral, dashed +"rot," to quote <i>Lord Arthur</i> +in the <i>Pantomime +Rehearsal</i>, this is the +weak-knee'dest, effeminatest, +and all the epithets +as above superlatived. +Read it by all means, and +see it, too, if you will, but +if the honest English play-goer's +verdict is worth a +"big, big, D" (I thank +thee, W. S. G., for teaching +me that abbreviated form +of dashed expressiveness!) +he will give <span class="sc">Ibsen's</span> <i>Master +Builder</i> the benefit of the +"D," and "D" it once and for ever. And that, at your service, +my masters, is the rough-and-ready opinion expressed by,</p> + +<p class="center">Yours truly, <span class="sc">The Baron de B.-W.</span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A RACY READING OF AN OLD QUOTATION FROM SCOTT.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>Suggested by Burns.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"My foot is on Newmarket Heath!</p> +<p>My name, <span class="sc">Jem Lowther</span>!"</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p>The benefits that Sir <span class="sc">John Lawes</span> has been able and will yet be +able to confer on agriculturists everywhere, including those in his +immediate neighbourhood, cause him to be regarded as a living +exception to the rule about a prophet in his own country. So, in +that part of England, "Profit and <span class="sc">Lawes</span>" are synonymous terms, +meaning the same person.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>"HAPPINESS IN——FOLKESTONE."</h2> + +<blockquote><p>["He said, 'Go and be——' I accordingly went and stayed at Folkestone."</p> + +<p><i>See last Thursday's "Daily News;" Evidence in the De Walden Case.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Thrice happy Town Council! when pestered to pave,</p> +<p class="i2">Remember this fact that her Ladyship mentions.</p> +<p>Intend, but do nothing; your rates you can save</p> +<p class="i2">By paving your streets with the best of intentions.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Hitherto Unreported</span>.—Mr. <span class="sc">Gladstone</span> and Mr. <span class="sc">Asquith</span> +received deputations on the Eight Hours' Question last Friday. +The chief speakers were Mr. <span class="sc">Parrot</span> and Mr. <span class="sc">Onions</span>. Mr. G. +observed that in all his vast +experience, frequently as +he had tasted a savoury +dish of rabbit and onions, +yet the combination of +Parrot with Onions was +something really novel. +Perhaps Mr. <span class="sc">Parrot</span> would +be useful at any bye-election, +and would give them +the state of the poll. As +to Mr. <span class="sc">Onions</span>, well, he +(Mr. G.) hadn't words of +welcome sufficiently strong +for him. Why hadn't he +brought "<span class="sc">Brer Rabbit</span>" +with him? In approaching +the Eight Hours' Question, +no time must be lost, so he +would at once proceed to +business.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:40%;"><a href="images/111.png"><img width="100%" src="images/111.png" alt="FROM OUR VILLAGE." /></a><h3>FROM OUR VILLAGE.</h3> + +<p><i>Mrs. Sharply</i> (<i>to the Doctor, who has looked in, having heard that her "good man" +is ailing</i>). "<span class="sc">No, I thank ye, Sir. You see I've heerd of you, Sir, as +you've been 'Prac<i>ti</i>sing' here for the last Three Years, and so I'd +rather you went 'Prac<i>ti</i>sing' elsewhere, as I don't want no <i>'Speriments</i> +on my Old Man!"</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<p>At a recent Monday Pop +Concert, Mr. <span class="sc">Borwick</span> put +any amount of powder—everyone +has seen or heard +of Borwick's Powder—into +his performance of "<i>Suite +Anglaise</i>. "As a pretty +lady observed, "He might +just as well, or better, have +put the name in English, +and called it, '<i>The Sweet +English Girl</i>.'" Messrs. +<span class="sc">Joachim, Ries, Strauss,</span> +and <span class="sc">Piatti</span>, played a string-quartette +in C Sharp Minor, +and out of respect to the +Ecclesiastical Season of the +year, they gave marked +prominence to the "<i>Lento</i>" +in G. Flat.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">A Genuine Building +Society</span>.—The Birds, just +now. And its members +are not even waiting for a +Re-leaf Fund, which will, +however, soon come, with +"the flowers that bloom in +the Spring, tra-la!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">The G. O. M. from a +Musical Point of View</span>.—When +preternaturally +alert, he is "Mr. G. +Sharp." When depressed, +he is "Mr. G. Flat." When himself again, he is "Mr. G. Natural." +As being second son, he is "G. Minor." He is also <i>hors ligne</i>. +But he refuses to be musically translated to the House of Lords, +and become "The Upper G."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>Q.</i> What is the difference between a lover asking the object of +his affections to marry him, and a guest who ventures to hint to +his host that the Pommery '80 is rather corked?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> The one pops the question, the other questions the pop.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Mrs. R. saw the heading of a paragraph in the <i>Times</i>, of Monday. +Feb. 27, "Jade in Upper Burmah." She laid the paper down, and +exclaimed, "Dear me! I wonder who she is!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>If we ever do adopt Bimetallism, it is evident, from Mr. <span class="sc">Gladstone's</span> +masterly speech, that holders of Consols will obtain very +little consol-ation.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page112" id="page112"></a>[pg 112]</span><h2>PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>Translated from the Original Norwegian by Mr. Punch</i>)</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<span class="sc">Prefatory Note</span>. The original title, <i>Mester-Pijl-drögster Herdal</i>, +would sound a trifle too uncouth to the Philistine ear, and is therefore +modified as above, although the term "drögster," strictly speaking, denotes +a practitioner who has not received a regular diploma.]</p></blockquote> + +<p class="center">ACT FIRST.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>An elegantly furnished Drawing-room at</i> Dr. <span class="sc">Herdal's</span>. <i>In front, +on the left, a Console-table, on which is a large round bottle full +of coloured water. On the right a stove, with a banner-screen +made out of a richly-embroidered chest-protector. On the stove, +a stethoscope and a small galvanic battery. In one corner, a hat +and umbrella stand; in another, a desk, at +which stands</i> <span class="sc">Senna Blakdraf</span>, <i>making +out the quarterly accounts. Through a +glass-door at the back is seen the Dispensary, +where</i> <span class="sc">Rübub Kalomel</span> <i>is seated, +occupied in rolling a pill. Both go on +working in perfect silence for four minutes +and a half.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Dr. Haustus Herdal</i> (<i>enters through hall-door; +he is elderly, with a plain sensible +countenance, but slightly weak hair and +expression</i>). Come here, Miss <span class="sc">Blakdraf</span>. +(<i>Hangs up hat, and throws his mackintosh +on a divan.</i>) Have you made out all those +bills yet? [<i>Looks sternly at her.</i></p> + +<p><i>Senna</i> (<i>in a low hesitating voice</i>). Almost. +I have charged each patient with three attendances +daily. Even when you only dropped +in for a cup of tea and a chat. (<i>Passionately.</i>) +I felt I <i>must</i>—I <i>must</i>!</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> (<i>alters his tone, clasps her head +in his hands, and whispers</i>). I wish you could +make out the bills for me, <i>always</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Senna</i> (<i>in nervous exaltation</i>). How lovely +that would be! Oh, you are so unspeakably +good to me! It is too enthralling to be here!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Sinks down and embraces his knees.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> So I've understood. (<i>With +suppressed irritation.</i>) For goodness' sake, +let go my legs! I do <i>wish</i> you wouldn't be +so confoundedly neurotic!</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%;"><a href="images/112.png"><img width="100%" src="images/112.png" alt="For goodness' sake, let go my legs!" /></a><h3>"For goodness' sake, let go my legs!"</h3></div> + +<p><i>Rübub</i> (<i>has risen, and comes in through +glass-door, breathing with difficulty; he is a +prematurely bald young man of fifty-five, +with a harelip and squints slightly</i>). I beg +pardon, Dr. <span class="sc">Herdal</span>, I see I interrupt you. +(<i>As</i> <span class="sc">Senna</span> <i>rises</i>.) I have just completed +this pill. Have you looked at it?</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>He offers it for inspection +diffidently.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> (<i>evasively</i>). +It appears to be a pill of +the usual dimensions.</p> + +<p><i>Rübub</i> (<i>cast down</i>). +All these years you have +never given me one encouraging +word! <i>Can't</i> +you praise my pill?</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> (<i>struggles +with himself</i>). I—I +cannot. You should +not attempt to compound +pills on your +own account.</p> + +<p><i>Rübub</i> (<i>breathing laboriously</i>). +And yet +there was a time when +<i>you</i>, too——</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> (<i>complacently</i>). +Yes, it was certainly a pill that came as a lucky stepping-stone—but +not a pill like that!</p> + +<p><i>Rübub</i> (<i>vehemently</i>). Listen! Is that your last word? <i>Is</i> my +aged mother to pass out of this world without ever knowing whether +I am competent to construct an effective pill or not?</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> (<i>as if in desperation</i>). You had better try it upon your +mother—it will enable her to form an opinion. Only mind—I will +not be responsible for the result.</p> + +<p><i>Rübub.</i> I understand. Exactly as you tried <i>your</i> pill, all those +years ago, upon Dr. <span class="sc">Ryval</span>. [<i>He bows, and goes out.</i></p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> (<i>uneasily</i>). He said that so strangely, <span class="sc">Senna</span>. But +tell me now—when are you going to marry him?</p> + +<p><i>Senna</i> (<i>starts—half glancing up at him</i>). I—I don't know. This +year—next-year—now—<i>never</i>! I cannot marry him ... I cannot—I +<i>cannot</i>—it is so utterly impossible to leave you!</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> Yes, I can understand <i>that</i>. But, my poor <span class="sc">Senna</span>, +hadn't you better take a little walk?</p> + +<p><i>Senna</i> (<i>clasps her hands gratefully</i>). How sweet and thoughtful +you are to me! I <i>will</i> take a walk.</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> (<i>with a suppressed smile</i>). Do! And—h'm!—you +needn't trouble to come back. I have advertised for a male book-keeper—they +are less emotional. Good-night, my little <span class="sc">Senna</span>!</p> + +<p><i>Senna</i> (<i>softly, and quiveringly</i>). Good-night, Dr. <span class="sc">Herdal</span>!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Staggers out of the hall-door, blowing kisses.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Mrs. Herdal</i> (<i>enters through the window, plaintively</i>). Quite an +acquisition for you, <span class="sc">Haustus</span>, this Miss <span class="sc">Blakdraf</span>!</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> She's—h'm!—extremely civil and obliging. But I +am parting with her, +<span class="sc">Aline</span>—mainly on <i>your</i> +account.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Herd.</i> (<i>evades +him</i>). Was it on my +account, indeed, <span class="sc">Haustus</span>? +You have parted +with so many young +persons on my account—so +you tell me!</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> (<i>depressed</i>). +Oh, but this is hopeless! +When I have tried so +hard to bring a ray of +sunlight into your +desolate life! I must +give <span class="sc">Rübub Kalomel</span> +notice too—his pill +is really too preposterous!</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Herd.</i> (<i>feels +gropingly for a chair, +and sits down on the +floor</i>). Him, <i>too</i>! Ah, +<span class="sc">Haustus</span>, you will +never make my home +a real home for me. +My poor first husband, +<span class="sc">Halvard Solness</span>, +tried—and <i>he</i> couldn't! +When one has had such +misfortunes as I have—all +the family portraits +burnt, and the +silk dresses, too, and a +pair of twins, and nine +lovely dolls.</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Chokes with tears.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> (<i>as if to +lead her away from the +subject</i>). Yes, yes, yes, +that must have been a +heavy blow for you, my +poor <span class="sc">Aline</span>. I can +understand that your +spirits can never be +really high again. And +then for poor Master +Builder <span class="sc">Solness</span> to be +so taken up with that +Miss <span class="sc">Wangel</span> as he +was—that, too, was +so wretched for you. +To see him topple off +the tower, as he did +that day ten years +ago——</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Herd.</i> Yes, that +too, <span class="sc">Haustus</span>. But I +did not mind it so much—it all seemed so perfectly natural in both +of them.</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> Natural! For a girl of twenty-three to taunt a +middle-aged architect, whom she knew to be constitutionally liable +to giddiness, never to let him have any peace till he had climbed a +spire as dizzy as himself—and all for the fun of seeing him fall off—how +in the world——!</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Herd.</i> (<i>laying the table for supper with dried fish and punch</i>). +The younger generation have a keener sense of humour than we +elder ones, <span class="sc">Haustus</span>, and perhaps, after all, she was only a perplexing +sort of allegory.</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> Yes, that would explain her to some extent, no doubt. +But how <i>he</i> could be such an old fool!</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page113" id="page113"></a>[pg 113]</span><p><i>Mrs. Herd.</i> That Miss <span class="sc">Wangel</span> was a strangely fascinating type +of girl. Why, even I myself——</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> (<i>sits down and takes some fish</i>). Fascinating? Well, +goodness knows, I couldn't see <i>that</i> at all. (<i>Seriously.</i>) Has it never +struck you, <span class="sc">Aline</span>, that elderly Norwegians are so deucedly impressionable—mere +bundles of overstrained nerves, hypersensitive +ganglia. Except, of course, the Medical Profession.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Herd.</i> Yes, of course; those in that profession are not so +inclined to gangle. And when one has succeeded by such a stroke of +luck as you have——</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> (<i>drinks a glass of punch</i>). You're right enough there. +If I had not been called in to prescribe for Dr. <span class="sc">Ryval</span>, who used to +have the leading practice here, I should never have stepped so +wonderfully into his shoes as I did. (<i>Changes to a tone of quiet +chuckling merriment.</i>) Let me tell you a funny story, <span class="sc">Aline</span>; it +sounds a ludicrous thing—but all my good fortune here was based +upon a simple little pill. For if Dr. <span class="sc">Ryval</span> had never taken it——</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Herd.</i> (<i>anxiously</i>). Then you <i>do</i> think it was the pill that +caused him to——?</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> On the contrary; I am perfectly sure the pill had +nothing whatever to do with it—the inquest made it quite clear +that it was really the liniment. But don't you see, <span class="sc">Aline</span>, what +tortures me night and day is the thought that it <i>might</i> unconsciously +have been the pill which——Never to be free from <i>that</i>! To have +such a thought gnawing and burning always—always, like a moral +mustard poultice! (<i>He takes more punch.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Herd.</i> Yes; I suppose there is a poultice of that sort burning +on every breast—and we must never take it off either—it is our +simple duty to keep it on. I too, <span class="sc">Haustus</span>, am haunted by a fancy +that if this Miss <span class="sc">Wangel</span> were to ring at our bell now——</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> After she has been lost sight of for ten years? She is +safe enough in some Sanatorium, depend upon it. And what if she +<i>did</i> come? Do you think, my dear good woman, that I—a sensible +clear-headed general practitioner, who have found out all I know +for myself—would let her play the deuce with me as she did with +poor <span class="sc">Halvard</span>? No, general practitioners don't <i>do</i> such things—even +in Norway!</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Herd.</i> Don't they indeed, <span class="sc">Haustus</span>? (<i>The Surgery-bell +rings loudly.</i>) Did you hear <i>that</i>? There she is! I will go and put +on my best cap. It is my duty to show her <i>that</i> small attention.</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> (<i>laughing nervously</i>). Why, what on earth!——It's the +night-bell. It is most probably the new book-keeper! (Mrs. <span class="sc">Herdal</span> +<i>goes out</i>; Dr. <span class="sc">Herdal</span> <i>rises with difficulty, and opens the door</i>.) +Goodness gracious!—it <i>is</i> that girl, after all!</p> + +<p><i>Hilda Wangel</i> (<i>enters through the Dispensary door. She wears +a divided skirt, thick boots, and a Tam o'Shanter, with an eagle's +wing in it. Somewhat freckled. Carries a green tin cylinder slung +round her, and a rug in a strap. Goes straight up to</i> <span class="sc">Herdal</span>, +<i>her eyes sparkling with happiness</i>). How are you? I've run you +down, you see! The ten years are up. Isn't it scrumptiously +thrilling, to see me like this?</p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> (<i>politely retreating</i>). It is—very much so—but still +I don't in the least understand——</p> + +<p><i>Hilda</i> (<i>measures him with a glance</i>). Oh, you <i>will</i>. I have come +to be of use to you. I've no luggage, and no money. Not that +<i>that</i> makes any difference. I never <i>have</i>. And I've been allured +and attracted here. You surely know how these things come +about? [<i>Throws her arms round him.</i></p> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> What the deuce! Miss <span class="sc">Wangel</span>, you <i>mustn't</i>. I'm +a married man! There's my wife! [Mrs. <span class="sc">Herd.</span> <i>enters</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Hilda.</i> As if <i>that</i> mattered—it's only dear, sweet Mrs. <span class="sc">Solness</span>. +<i>She</i> doesn't mind—<i>do</i> you, dear Mrs. <span class="sc">Solness</span>?</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Herd.</i> It does not seem to be of much <i>use</i> minding, Miss +<span class="sc">Wangel</span>. I presume you have come to stay?</p> + +<p><i>Hilda</i> (<i>in amused surprise</i>). Why, of course—what else should +I come for? I <i>always</i> come to stay, until—h'm!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Nods slowly, and sits down at table.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Dr. Herd.</i> (<i>involuntarily</i>). She's drinking my punch! If she +thinks I'm going to stand this sort of thing, she's mistaken. I'll +soon show her a Pill-Doctor is a very different kind of person from a +mere Master Builder!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<span class="sc">Hilda</span> <i>finishes the punch with an indefinable expression in +her eyes, and</i> Dr. <span class="sc">Herdal</span> <i>looks on gloomily as the Curtain +falls. End of First Act.</i></p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Among the Memorable Books of the Present Raine</span>."—Canon +<span class="sc">Raine</span> has just published (<i>per</i> <span class="sc">Longmans</span>) his <i>York</i>, as one of +the series of Historic Towns. The proofs of <span class="sc">Raine</span> on <i>York</i> of course +came very moist from the press. Is there a frontispiece to it of +"<span class="sc">Raine</span> poring over his own book?" The work is highly spoken +of,—so <i>disons</i>, "<i>Vive le Raine!</i>"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Wilson Barrett</span> is to appear in a play called <i>Pharaoh</i>—"What +the plague!"—Is he coming out as an Egyptian Mummer? +Will the drama prove interesting to plague-goers?</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A FULL MEASURE OF JUSTICE.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>According to the Modern Method.</i>)</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="sc">Scene</span>—<i>The Old Bailey.</i> Judge <i>seated on the Bench, thoroughly +enjoying himself</i>. Prisoner <i>in the Dock</i>. Jurymen <i>in the Box</i>. +Counsel, Solicitors, <i>and</i> Public, <i>in attendance</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<p><i>Judge.</i> Now I will swear the Jury.</p> + +<p><i>Officer of the Court.</i> I beg your Lordship's pardon, but I have +always been accustomed to——</p> + +<p><i>Judge</i> (<i>interrupting</i>). Not at all; I will do it myself. You can't +give <i>me</i> too much work. (<i>Swears the</i> Jury.) And now, Prisoner, +what do you plead, guilty or not guilty?</p> + +<p><i>Prisoner.</i> Well, my Lord, I should say——</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:60%;"><a href="images/113.png"><img width="100%" src="images/113.png" alt="" /></a></div> + +<p><i>Judge.</i> Not guilty. Quite right, always give yourself the benefit +of the doubt. You can't imagine what stupid Jurymen we have +sometimes. Quite right to say Not guilty. And now who appears for +the prosecution?</p> + +<p><i>Counsel.</i> I do, my Lord, I——</p> + +<p><i>Judge.</i> Glad to see the eminent counsel here, and I know of no +one who can better conduct a case. Still, with my learned friend's +or rather my learned brother's, I should say the learned Counsel's +permission, I will just open for the Crown myself. (<i>Opens for the +Crown with brilliant effect. Applause.</i>) No; I cannot allow any +demonstration of that sort. By the way (<i>to</i> Counsel for the Prosecution), +Have we any witnesses?</p> + +<p><i>Counsel.</i> Yes, my Lord, a Police Sergeant.</p> + +<p><i>Judge.</i> Oh, indeed, I will soon settle him. (Witness <i>enters box +and is sworn</i>.) And now, you Sir, I am not going to allow any +speeches—so be on your guard. (<i>Examines and cross-examines him.</i>) +Have we any more witnesses?</p> + +<p><i>Counsel.</i> No, my Lord—that is our case.</p> + +<p><i>Judge.</i> Quite so. The face of the learned Counsel, who is retained +for the defence, is new to me, but if he has no objection, I will +open for him.</p> + +<p><i>Counsel.</i> As your Lordship pleases.</p> + +<p><i>Judge.</i> Thank you. (<i>Addresses the Jury.</i>) And now, if we have +no witnesses, I think I will sum up. (<i>To</i> Counsel for the Defence.) +Have we any witnesses?</p> + +<p><i>Counsel.</i> As your Lordship pleases.</p> + +<p><i>Judge.</i> Well, I think we won't call any witnesses, because then +the Prosecution won't have a reply.</p> + +<p><i>Counsel.</i> As your Lordship pleases.</p> + +<p><i>Judge.</i> Quite so. And now, Gentlemen of the Jury, I have now +my own special functions to perform. I will sum up the case in my +judicial capacity. You must know then——(<i>Sums up.</i>) And now +I will leave you to decide upon your verdict. (<i>Jury consults.</i>) +Or perhaps you would like to leave the matter to me?</p> + +<p><i>Foreman of the Jury.</i> As your Lordship pleases.</p> + +<p><i>Judge.</i> Thank you. Then I think we may say "Guilty." +Prisoner at the Bar, it is now my duty to sentence you. I think, +under all the circumstances of the case, that I need not treat you too +harshly. There is no doubt that the prosecution has been conducted +in a very able manner; and this remark is equally applicable to the +manner in which the defence has been carried out. I think a month's +imprisonment will be sufficient. Prisoner, you are sentenced to a +month's imprisonment.</p> + +<p><i>Prisoner.</i> As your Lordship pleases.</p> + +<p><i>Judge.</i> But, as I have had a good deal to do with this case, I +think I may as well remain in it to the end. So, with the consent +of the convict, the Counsel, and the Jury, I will go to prison myself.</p> + +<p><i>The Entire Court.</i> As your Lordship pleases.</p> + +<p><i>Judge.</i> Thank you all very much. I hope, after a month's +retirement, to have the pleasure of meeting you again.</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Exit, in custody. Curtain.</i></p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">For a Few Nights Ohnet</span>.—Mr. and Mrs. <span class="sc">Kendal</span> have revived +<i>The Ironmaster</i>. As may be imagined, the dialogue is full of irony.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page114" id="page114"></a>[pg 114]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:70%;"><a href="images/114.png"><img width="100%" src="images/114.png" alt="THE OLD COUNTRY. ST. WYCLIFFE'S COLLEGE, OXBRIDGE." /></a><h3>THE OLD COUNTRY. ST. WYCLIFFE'S COLLEGE, OXBRIDGE.</h3> + +<p><i>Mr. Jonah P. Skeggs, from Chicago (with his family) suddenly bursts on Jones, who keeps at Letter A in the Cloisters.</i></p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Sir—we offer you—many Apologies—for this—unwarrantable Intrusion! We were not aware the Old Ruin was +Inhabited!"</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>BETWEEN THE ROUNDS.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>["The record of the Opposition, so far, is one of +wasted opportunities and ill-conceived tactics. +They have been beaten, out-manœuvred and +discredited by a foe on whom, with proper management, +they might often have turned the tables.... +These are no days for punctilious or overstrained +courtesy in dealing with political +opponents.... Conservatives and Unionists may +be tolerably certain that they will gain nothing +by this misplaced delicacy."—<i>The Standard.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<p class="center"><i>Perturbed Old Party loquitur</i>:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Wich, <span class="sc">Arthur</span>, I'm puffeck aweer as a fighter you're truly tip-top,</p> +<p>Our party's pecooliar pride, and our cause's particular prop!</p> +<p><i>You</i> can "pop in a slommacking wunner," if ever a lad could, dear boy:</p> +<p>But—well, there, you ain't scored <i>this</i> round; and yer foes is a-chortling with joy!</p> +<p>'Ow is it, my <span class="sc">Arthur</span>, 'ow is it! I've nurriged you up from a kid,</p> +<p>And if ever a lathy young scrapper showed pluck and fair promidge, boy, <i>you</i> did;</p> +<p>Wich I've cheridged and cracked you up constant, and backed you in all of your fights.</p> +<p>And I've swore it was you, right as rain, as would do the Grand Ould 'Un to rights!</p> +<p>But he's turned up more younger than ever—O drabbit him; 'ow he do wear!—</p> +<p>I thought he'd be knocked out at once, the fust round, and he ain't turned a hair!</p> +<p>He hits hard and fast as the "<span class="sc">Tinman</span>," he's nimble as poor "Young <span class="sc">Ducrow</span>."</p> +<p>And now this round's over, <i>where are we</i>? I'm jiggered, dear boy, if <i>I</i> know!</p> +<p>Look at 'im! As perky as pickles! Weaves in like a young 'un, he do,</p> +<p>Jest as limber of limb as a kitten; pops in that perdigious one—two,</p> +<p>Like a new Eighty-tonner. Good gracious, the wetterun's all over the shop!</p> +<p>He can mill you, or throw you a burster; feint, parry, duck, counter, or stop!</p> +<p>Reglar mixture of <span class="sc">Mace</span>, Young <span class="sc">Dutch Sam</span>, and a Old Pugilistical 'And!</p> +<p>'Ow the dooce does he do it, I wonder? I don't mind admitting it's grand.</p> +<p>But—wot price our Party, my <span class="sc">Arthur</span>? He's scoring two points to our one;</p> +<p>And I don't see the fun of it, <span class="sc">Arthur</span>, I certinly <i>don't</i> see the fun.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Mustn't take it to heart overmuch, '<span class="sc">Arty</span>! 'Taint as I wants for to scold;</p> +<p>But—you play him too light—<i>entry noo</i>! 'Taint acos you are young, and he's old.</p> +<p>As you need be so precious "punctilious." Delicate 'andling of <i>him</i></p> +<p>Won't pay; it's misplaced altogether. Go at him, lad! Lam the old limb!</p> +<p>His bellows can't be as they used to wos. Youth will be served—that's your chance;</p> +<p>But, if you play light with Old Shifty, he'll lead you no end of a dance.</p> +<p>Think of <span class="sc">Benjy</span>, dear boy, my old champion, bless his black curls! <i>He</i> wired in,</p> +<p>Never thinking of manners or taste, wich is muck when you're fighting to win.</p> +<p>Look at <span class="sc">Grandolph</span>, the Marlborough Midget, as often reminds me of <span class="sc">Ben</span>!</p> +<p>There—there! Don't turn touchy, and tiff; we all need a straight tip now and then.</p> +<p>You can do him, next round, I've no doubt, if you'll only fight up to your form.</p> +<p>Pull yourself well together, 'it 'ard, bustle up the old boy, make it warm!—</p> +<p>Remember wot <span class="sc">Johnny Broome's</span> mother once wrote to her boy—mark, and mind!—</p> +<p>"Be sure you make use of your left; keep away from your man till you find</p> +<p>You can reach him in safety, and <i>then</i>—give him pepper. Avoid being thrown.</p> +<p>But give 'im all the bursters you can!" Wich that Ammyzon, who is beknown</p> +<p>To the fistical world, gave her son—as you're mine—werry proper advice.</p> +<p>When time's called, my <span class="sc">Arthur</span>, wire in; and wotever you do, <i>don't be nice</i>!</p> +<p>No "overstrained courtesy" <i>this</i> time! It's blessed nigh bunnicked your chance.</p> +<p>Let me fan you, dear boy, let me fan you! And when it is time to hadvance</p> +<p>Go at 'im for all you are wuth! Bless yer, him and his low Irish lot</p> +<p>Won't be in it with <span class="sc">Gentleman Arthur</span>—<i>if only you'll give it him hot</i>!</p> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Left fanning and fuming.</i></p></blockquote> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Shakspearii Juniores.</span>—Sir <span class="sc">Augustus +Harris's</span> and <span class="sc">Pettitt's</span> <i>Prodigal Daughter</i> +is going all over the shop. She is coming out +in France, in Germany, also, of course, in +the Horse-tryin' capital, and will appear, as +a matter-of-Corso, in Rome. This for the +original English authors is a dramatic +triumph which for the universality of their +work is second only to that of <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>.</p> + +<hr /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page115" id="page115"></a>[pg 115]</span> +<div class="figcenter" style="width:70%;"><a href="images/115.png"><img width="100%" src="images/115.png" alt="BETWEEN THE ROUNDS." /></a><h3>BETWEEN THE ROUNDS.</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">Perturbed Old Party</span> (<i>loq.</i>) "WHICH, ARTHUR MY DEAR, YOU'VE TREATED HIM TOO DELICATE IN FUST ROUND! YOU'LL 'AVE TO PULL +YERSELF TOGETHER, IF YOU'RE A-GOIN' TO DO ANY GOOD!"</p></div> + + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page116" id="page116"></a>[pg 116]</span> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page117" id="page117"></a>[pg 117]</span><h2>POPULAR SONGS RE-SUNG.</h2> + +<p class="center">THE MAN THAT SMOKES THE RANK TWO-D CIGAR, OH!</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Air</span>—"<i>The Man that broke the Bank at Monte Carlo.</i>"</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:30%;"><a href="images/117a.png"><img width="100%" src="images/117a.png" alt="" /></a></div> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>Pardon, good</i> +<span class="sc">Gilbert</span>, +<i>pardon, genial</i> +<span class="sc">Coborn</span>, +<i>That from the +Bois Boolong. +Unto the Cockney +purlieus +of 'Igh 'Olborn, + We shift your +famous song.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>I'm just "all there," no <span class="sc">'Arry</span>; I've the money, so I score!</p> +<p class="i2">To a Race last week I went,</p> +<p class="i2">And there staked a quarter's rent.</p> +<p>Dame Fortune smiled upon me as she never done before:</p> +<p class="i2">And now I've copped the ochre I'm a gent!</p> +<p class="i2">Yus, now I've piled the pieces, I'm a gent!</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> + +<p class="i10"><i>Chorus.</i></p> + +</div> <div class="stanza"> + +<p class="i2">As I mash and lark in Finsbury Park,</p> +<p class="i4">With a free an' heasy hair,</p> +<p class="i4">You can twig the donahs stare.</p> +<p class="i4">"<span class="sc">Bob</span> must be a millionnaire!"</p> +<p class="i6">You can 'ear 'em cry,</p> +<p class="i6">"Oh, ain't <i>'e</i> fly?</p> +<p class="i2">And carn't 'e wink the hother heye?"</p> +<p>The man wot smokes the prime Two-D cigar, oh!</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>I've chucked my crib, and two-quid-screw, for betting's now <i>my</i> walk;</p> +<p class="i4">I do my mornin' march</p> +<p class="i4">Down to the Marble Arch.</p> +<p>I'm bound to spot more winners; I've a eye that's like a 'awk;</p> +<p class="i4">I'm a mass of oof and 'air-oil, shine and starch;</p> +<p class="i4">Yus, a reg'lar mass of ochre, shine and starch.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> + +<p class="i10"><i>Chorus.</i></p> + +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">As I walk along, still "going strong,"</p> +<p class="i4">With my Tuppenny all a-flare,</p> +<p class="i4">You can 'ear old buffers swear,</p> +<p class="i4">As my baccy scents the air.</p> +<p class="i6">You can hear 'em sigh,</p> +<p class="i6">And moan, "Oh my!"</p> +<p class="i2">You can see 'em choke, and blink the heye</p> +<p>At "the man wot smokes the rank Two-D cigar, oh!"</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>I paternise the Promenards on a Sunday, with the Swells,</p> +<p class="i2">With my topper on the skew,</p> +<p class="i2">And my cloud a-blowin' blue;</p> +<p>For a tuppenny smoke and a leary joke they nobble the mam'selles,</p> +<p class="i2">And if they're nuts on me, wot can <i>I</i> do?</p> +<p class="i2">Yus, if they're arter me, wot can <i>I</i> do?</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> + +<p class="i10"><i>Chorus.</i></p> + +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2">As I swagger and swell along Pell-Mell,</p> +<p class="i4">With a reg'lar oof-bird air,</p> +<p class="i4">You can 'ear sour swells declare,</p> +<p class="i4">"A Whitechapel weed!"—and swear.</p> +<p class="i6">But their narsty cry</p> +<p class="i6">Means—jealousy.</p> +<p class="i2">So I puff, and wink the hother heye—</p> +<p>"The man wot smokes the rank Two-D Cigar, oh!"</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Nuts for Knutsford.</h2> + +<p>In the City Article of last Saturday's <i>Times</i>, +we read that Lord <span class="sc">Knutsford</span> has joined the +London Board of "<span class="sc">Chaffey, Bros</span>., Limited." +What a festive board! What a rivalry must +exist among the <span class="sc">Chaffey</span> Brothers as to who +shall be the chaffiest and the wheatiest of the +family!</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>WOMEN'S WRONGS IN JAPAN.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>[The new Japanese Press Bill prohibits women from +becoming Publishers or Editors.—<i>Daily Graphic.</i>]</p></blockquote> + +<div class="figright" style="width:22%;"><a href="images/117b.png"><img width="100%" src="images/117b.png" alt="" /></a></div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>A Land of flowers and of Art,</p> +<p>Which lived for centuries apart,</p> +<p>Some years ago woke with a start;</p> +<p class="i2">Folks, simply dressed by wrappin' knees</p> +<p>In silken robes of dainty hue,</p> +<p>Began to long for something new</p> +<p>The good, the beautiful, the true</p> +<p class="i2">No longer charmed the Japanese.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>So Western Art improved their lot;</p> +<p>A House of Commons grew. Each got</p> +<p>Boots, trousers, frock-coat, chimney-pot.</p> +<p class="i2">"Art? 'E don't care a rap, an' 'e's,"</p> +<p>Saus <span class="sc">'Arry</span>, "sich a swell! I'm blowed</p> +<p>'E'd knock 'em in the Old Kent Road."</p> +<p>You are a sight, dressed <i>à la mode</i></p> +<p class="i2">O too-progressive Japanese!</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>And yet, to <i>Madame Chrysanthème</i>,</p> +<p>Divided Skirter, Primrose Dame,</p> +<p>And all the rest, are but a name;</p> +<p class="i2">It therefore cannot happen ease</p> +<p>Is yours, although men dress like frights,</p> +<p>And even have election fights;</p> +<p>One thing is wanting—Women's Rights,</p> +<p class="i2">O <i>fin-de-siècle</i> Japanese!</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE COMING COAL-SCUTTLE.</h2> + +<div class="figright" style="width:30%;"><a href="images/117c.png"><img width="100%" src="images/117c.png" alt="" /></a></div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Sweet Maiden, what is this you wear,</p> +<p class="i2">This most eccentric sort of bonnet,</p> +<p>That stands erect upon your hair</p> +<p class="i2">As though a coal-scoop fixed upon it?</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>A very funny shape it seems,</p> +<p class="i2">Flat, oval, rather like a shuttle,</p> +<p>Or, like some Statesmen's foreign schemes,</p> +<p class="i2">A sort of undecided scuttle.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>And yet not wholly of the kind</p> +<p class="i2">Beloved by loud Salvation lasses,</p> +<p>Which brings the coal-box to one's mind—</p> +<p class="i2"><span class="sc">Booth's</span> fashions would not suit the Classes.</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>There's some resemblance to a spoon,</p> +<p class="i2">But you are not considered "spooney"—</p> +<p>Word coined by some low buffoon,</p> +<p class="i2">Romantic, quite, as "<i>Annie Rooney</i>."</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>It's rather like the ace of spades,</p> +<p class="i2">And yet it plays the deuce with features,</p> +<p>O Queen of hearts, of pretty maids,</p> +<p class="i2">So say we knaves of clubs, male creatures;</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Who look askance at what may shade—</p> +<p class="i2">When larger grown—the face that charms us.</p> +<p>If scoop or scuttle, spoon or spade,</p> +<p class="i2">No matter; each of them alarms us.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">A Possible Bungler</span>.—Through <span class="sc">Reuter's</span> +Agency last Friday, we learn that "<span class="sc">Bungle +Khan</span> is in Afghan territory." Capital man +to be opposed to us. We shall be ready to +take any advantage of him, as, if <span class="sc">Bungle +Khan</span> <i>can bungle</i>, he will of course do so.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">One for the Other Side</span>.—Mrs. R. cannot +understand how Mr. <span class="sc">Gladstone</span> can +advocate Monometallism in the House of Commons, +as, she says, she has always heard that +"Words are silver, and silence is gold."</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page118" id="page118"></a>[pg 118]</span><div class="figcenter" style="width:75%;"><a href="images/118.png"><img width="100%" src="images/118.png" alt="EMBARRASSING." /></a><h3>EMBARRASSING.</h3> + +<p><i>Curate.</i> "<span class="sc">Hello, Regie! Ah, it's good to be you! A Poor Beggar like Me, you see, has to be content with Running +after the Hounds on Foot</span>."</p> + +<p><i>Regie</i> (<i>who, as the Son of our M.F.H., has all the Hunting-Man's horror of Foot-people</i>). "<span class="sc">Ah—yes. And the Pater says he +wouldn't mind that so much, if only half the Parish didn't sometimes turnout to Run after <i>You</i></span>!"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + +<p class="center">EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</p> + +<p><i>House of Commons, Monday, February 27.</i>—"Am thinking, +<span class="sc">Toby</span>," said <span class="sc">Rigby</span>, just now, "of applying for Chiltern Hundreds. +Parliament isn't quite the place I pictured to myself when I fought +for a seat. Of course I've done pretty well. To be made <span class="sc">Solicitor-General</span> +right off, with <span class="sc">Waddy</span> around, and <span class="sc">Willis</span> still in prime +of life and energy, was a fine thing. But House seems perversely +inclined to accept me as a joke, and that's not the sort of thing I'm +accustomed to at Chancery Bar. Look what happened the other +night, when, in my learned brother <span class="sc">Russell's</span> absence, I answered +questions. Did it in my best, most imposing, and conclusive style. +Kept my eye on <span class="sc">Speaker</span> throughout, to see how he'd take it. +Effect most satisfactory. You know I make <span class="sc">Chitty</span> sit up, and +<span class="sc">North</span> tremble. They, to certain extent, used to it; all new to +<span class="sc">Speaker</span>, and told accordingly. Was really fascinated myself. +I frowned at him, pursed my mouth, wrinkled my forehead, squared +my jaw, sometimes lowered my voice into my boots, anon uplifted it +above where my wig ought to have been. Being my first appearance +at table, thought it worth while to make an effort. Judging +from <span class="sc">Speaker's</span> limp appearance towards conclusion of my remarks, +felt I had done it. Suddenly curious noise, that I'm told is known as a +titter, interrupted me, and, before I had quite finished, there was a +boisterous roar of laughter."</p> + + +<p>"Oh, come," I said, "you mustn't take that too much to heart. +House will have its joke, and, if you won't make it, it sometimes +makes it round you, using you as lay-figure. Your voice and +manner in answering simple matter-of-fact question, were perhaps +a size or so too large. But you'll get the hang of the place by-and-by, +and will be all right."</p> + + +<p>"I don't think so," said <span class="sc">Solicitor-General</span>, sadly. "Look +again what happened just now. House unexpectedly goes into Committee. +Can't find <span class="sc">Mellor</span>. 'You take the Chair,' says the <span class="sc">Squire</span>; +'you'll fill it admirably.' No time for hesitation; I take the Chair; +Clerk claps Bill into my hand. I say, 'Question is, that I do report +progress, and ask leave to sit again.' Shouts of 'Aye,' and 'No.' 'I +think the Ayes have it,' I say, in deep chest-notes, with persuasive +fall of eyebrows. 'The Noes have it!' they shout. Very well; first +duty of Chairman is to be impartial; so <i>I</i> say, 'The Noes have it.' +Again they roar with laughter. <span class="sc">Woodall</span>, in charge of Bill, feels +for sword of Financial Secretary to War Office. Fortunately, can't +find it. Otherwise, Chair of Committees might have been +steepled with my gore. What shall I do next? 'Put question +again,' Clerk hoarsely whispered. 'Question is, that I do report +progress, and ask leave to sit again. Those who are of that opinion +say Aye; the contrary, No. I think the Ayes have it.' That would +at least get me out of the Chair, and you certainly won't find me +asking for leave to sit again. But what follows? In all parts of +the House, just now opposing progress, hilarious shout of 'No! No!' +rises up. That means I'm to go on with the Bill; but I know if I +declare 'the Noes have it,' they'll turn round to the 'Ayes.' So, +after standing for moment irresolutely, Bill in hand, I'm not ashamed +to say I bolted from table, taking Bill with me. House roared louder +than ever. Seem to have discovered excellent joke. But I don't see +it, <span class="sc">Toby</span>. If this is House of Commons life, give me the dignity and +quiet of the Chancery Bar."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/119.png"><img width="100%" src="images/119.png" alt="APPLYING FOR THE CHILTERN HUNDREDS." /></a><h3>APPLYING FOR THE CHILTERN HUNDREDS.</h3></div> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page119" id="page119"></a>[pg 119]</span> + +<p>Quite a procession of new Members took their seats on election. +Honours of the day with <span class="sc">Harry Lawson</span>, who, after stubborn fight, +has won Cirencester. As young <span class="sc">Harry</span>, with his beaver on, marched +to table, Liberals temporarily relieved themselves from imputation +that they don't know how to cheer.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Local Veto Bill brought in.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>Tuesday Night.</i>—"It's a natural temptation," said <span class="sc">Charles</span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page120" id="page120"></a>[pg 120]</span><span class="sc">Russell</span>, "for the human mind to believe that Mr. G.'s latest performance +at table of House of Commons excels all he has done +before. There is a phrase—you are probably familiar with it in +<span class="sc">Horace</span>—which speaks of the <i>Laudator temporis acti</i>. But the other +impulse is certainly, in this connection, quite as strong, I, therefore, +hesitate to affirm that that's the best speech Mr. G. ever made; but +certainly it's among the best."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:40%;"><a href="images/120a.png"><img width="100%" src="images/120a.png" alt="Young Harry obtaining his Majority on Coming of Age in the +Parliamentary Time." /></a><h3>Young Harry obtaining his Majority on Coming of Age in the +Parliamentary Time.</h3></div> + +<p>It was on Bimetallism. Like olives and claret, Bimetallism quite +an acquired taste; ordinary Member will have none of it; flees +House when subject announced. In the Parliamentary world, +Bimetallism supplies part of the <span class="sc">Browning</span> or <span class="sc">Ibsen</span> cult known +out-of-doors. Analogy accurate +inasmuch, that whilst mass of mankind +are averse to contemplation +of topic, the few faithful pass all +ordinary bounds in the enthusiasm +of their worship. Thus, for upwards +of hour to-night, <span class="sc">Meysey-Thompson</span> +handled it as if he loved it. <span class="sc">Montagu</span>, +whilst musically jingling in +trowser-pocket handful of newly-minted +sovereigns, equally adulatory. +Then Mr. G. walked in. It was +reasonably thought in advance that +Bimetallism would prove too much +even for the charm of his oratory. +Had evidently come down unprepared +for special effort; neither +sheaf of notes nor pomatum-pot. He +listened to mover and seconder, and +then just talked to entranced House, +crowding up in every corner. Quite surprised, as Mr. G. was himself +when he sat down, to find he'd been talking for an hour.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—House declares by 229 votes against 148, will +have nothing to do with Bimetallism.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>Wednesday.</i>—Hear a very pleasant thing in connection with an +old friend. Am told that as soon as Local Veto Bill passes into law, +<span class="sc">Wilfrid Lawson</span> is to be raised to the Peerage.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" asks <span class="sc">Squire of Malwood</span>. "On the principle that +the Devil shouldn't have all the good tunes suitable for <span class="sc">Wesley's</span> +hymns, why should the Trade have the monopoly of the Peerage? +Why shouldn't there be a Viscount <span class="sc">Appolinaris</span> as well as a Baron +<span class="sc">Bass</span>, a Lord <span class="sc">Barleywater</span> to pair off with a Baron <span class="sc">Barleycorn</span>? +Let us drink (in toast-and-water), health and long life to Lord +<span class="sc">Barleywater</span> of Brayton!"</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—In discussion on Irish National Education Bill +<span class="sc">Grandolph</span> effects little surprise. Been running admirably in +double harness with Prince <span class="sc">Arthur</span>. This afternoon suddenly jibs; +nearly upsets coach.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>Friday</i>, 1 <span class="sc">A.M.</span>—"Begin to think, <span class="sc">Toby</span>," said Prince <span class="sc">Arthur</span>, as +we walked home together in the moonlight, "that we shall scotch +this Home-Rule Bill yet. Expectation only just dawned on me. +When I went down to House in the afternoon, was of different +opinion. Had philosophically settled down to acceptance of inevitable. +Might maim it a bit in Committee; play with it so as to +block off other business, and send it up to Lords at so late period of +Session that they would seem justified in throwing it out, on score of +inadequate time to discuss it. Now I think we shall go one better. +<span class="sc">Courtney</span> thought he could serve Unionist cause better from standpoint +below Gangway. The supremest service he could render to +that cause was effected when he created vacancy in Chair."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think," I said, "they were a little hard on <span class="sc">Mellor</span>? +Wasn't the sport something after the fashion of the gallant emprise +in Windsor Park with the carted stag? And then the merry sportsmen +didn't give the new Chairman the ordinary courtesy of a fair +start and a little run."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Prince <span class="sc">Arthur</span>, "if you put it in that way, of course +there's something to be said. But all is fair in hate and war. Mr. +G. should have thought of that before he got rid of <span class="sc">Courtney</span>. Our +business is to stop Home-Rule Bill from passing, and after to-night +the way is clear, and the goal certain."</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—New Chairman baited for an hour by Westminster +Clock. Before the lawless, disorderly squabble about Law and +Order in County Clare, regular foot-ball scrimmage, in which +<span class="sc">Saunderson</span> naturally turned up. In one of the pauses the Colonel +dropped into poetry? could hear him crooning to himself:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>There's Justice <span class="sc">O'Brien</span> of Clare,</p> +<p class="i10">How rare!</p> +<p>'Tis little for justice they care</p> +<p class="i10">Down there!</p> +</div> <div class="stanza"> +<p>They're choke full of crimes,</p> +<p>(So at least says the <i>Times</i>),</p> +<p>And they've got no policemen to spare,</p> +<p class="i10">How quare!</p> +<p>They've got no policemen to spare.</p> +</div></div> + +<p><i>Friday Night.</i>—Seems, after all, <span class="sc">Mellor</span> quite right in his ruling +yesterday. Point was that, on supplementary Estimate, you may +not debate questions of policy settled when original vote agreed +to. Prince <span class="sc">Arthur</span> denounced this as absolutely novel principle. +<span class="sc">Chamberlain</span> kept game up from other side, and for full hour +conviction borne in upon new Chairman that life not worth +living. <span class="sc">Speaker</span>, appealed to to-day, declares <span class="sc">Mellor</span> to have +been in the right. Report of Select Committee on Estimates. Procedure +cited to show <span class="sc">Courtney</span> categorically laid down the principle +challenged, and systematically acted upon it.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/120b.png"><img width="100%" src="images/120b.png" alt="Irish National Football Match." /></a><h3>Irish National Football Match.</h3></div> + +<p>"Yes," said <span class="sc">Squire of Malwood</span>, reflectively stroking his chin, +"and <span class="sc">Courtney</span> might have got up and said so last night. Only +his fatal bashfulness, his irreclaimably retiring disposition, could +have kept him silent in such circumstances. True, his interposition +would have spoiled the little game of his friends. It would +not have been War, but it would have been Magnanimous."</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—<span class="sc">Albert Rollit</span>, and Ex-Lord Mayor <span class="sc">Whitehead</span>, +carry Resolution declaring Revised Railway Rates prejudicial +to commercial interests of country.</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 104, MARCH 11, 1893***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 22691-h.txt or 22691-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/6/9/22691">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/6/9/22691</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>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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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, March 11, 1893 + + +Author: Various + +Editor: Francis Burnand + +Release Date: September 20, 2007 [eBook #22691] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, +VOL. 104, MARCH 11, 1893*** + + +E-text prepared by Matt Whittaker, Juliet Sutherland, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 22691-h.htm or 22691-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/6/9/22691/22691-h/22691-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/6/9/22691/22691-h.zip) + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI + +VOL. 104 + +MARCH 11, 1893. + + + + + + + +MIXED NOTIONS. + +No. VI.--REGISTRATION REFORM. + +(_Scene and Persons as Usual._) + +_First Well-Informed Man_ (_bristling with indignation, as he lays down his +newspaper_). Well, I'm dashed! + +_Inquirer_ (_nervously_). What's up? + +_First W. I. M._ _What's up!_ Everything's up. Up the spout, that's where +this blessed country will be if this kind of thing's going on. + +_Inquirer._ What kind of thing? + +_First W. I. M._ Why, all this gerrymandering kind of business. + +_Inquirer._ Oh, by the way, that reminds me. I came on that word the other +day. Can any of you chaps tell me what it means? + +_First W. I. M._ It's as plain as a pikestaff. It means playing ducks and +drakes with things all round, and letting the whole business go thoroughly +rotten. + +_Inquirer._ Has it got anything to do with jerry-builders? + +_First W. I. M._ It's the same thing precisely. + +_Inquirer_ (_insisting_). But what's the point of calling 'em jerry? Where +does that come in? + +_First W. I. M._ It's a French word. + +_Second W. I. M._ It isn't. It's German. + +_First W. I. M._ Bosh, it's French. + +_Second W. I. M._ I bet you a dollar it's German. + +_First W. I. M._ And I bet you a dollar it's French. (_To Average Man._) +Here, you decide. Which is it? + +_Average Man._ Well, I'm sure it isn't French---- + +_Second W. I. M._ (_interrupting_). Of course it isn't. Pay up, my boy! + +_Average Man_ (_continuing_). But, on the other hand, it isn't German. + +_First W. I. M._ Oh, rot! It must be one or the other, you know. +(_Scornfully._) You'll be telling us it's Greek next. + +_Average Man._ Well, of course, it _might_ be; but, as a matter of fact, I +fancy it's English. + +_First W. I. M._, _Second W. I. M._ (_together_). Oh, you tell that to the +Marines! It won't wash here. + +_Inquirer_ (_doubtfully_). Perhaps it's American. + +_Average Man_ (_resignedly_). Well I daresay it is. Any way, you can have +it so if you like, It may be Sanskrit for all I care. + + [_Retires to his paper. A pause._ + +_Inquirer_ (_to First W. I. M._). But, look here, what made you lose your +hair, just now? You looked as angry as blazes about something. + +_First W. I. M._ (_with dignity_). Did I? Well, isn't it enough to make +anybody, who loves his country, angry when he sees what's going on. Why, +the Government's going to turn everything inside out, with some blessed new +law about elections. Registration Bill, they call it, or something of that +sort. Just as if we hadn't had enough tinkering and pottering lately. It's +all through this confounded County Council interfering with everything. + +_Second W. I. M._ (_aggressive_). What the dickens has the County Council +got to do with it? You're always dropping on the County Council. + +_First W. I. M._ Oh, they've got their finger in every pie. I'm pretty +certain this is their job. + +_Second W. I. M._ Well, you're wrong this time, that's all. You're thinking +of the Employers' Liability Bill. + +_First W. I. M._ No, I'm not. I never even heard of it. So that's where +_you're_ wrong. What has the Employers' Liabill got----I mean the +Employers' (_steadily, and with determination_) Li-a-bil-ity Bill got to do +with the County Council? + +_Second W. I. M._ Everything. Didn't you read JOHN BURNS'S speech about it? + +_First W. I. M._ No--and I don't mean to. Ask me another. + +_Second W. I. M._ All right--I will. Do you mean to deny that our present +Registration System is a ridiculous one? + +_First W. I. M._ (_hotly_). Yes, I do. + +_Second W. I. M._ (_with triumph_). Ah, I've got you now. You said, only +yesterday, that any system by which a Government like this got into power +must be ridiculous. (_To_ Inquirer.) Didn't he? + +_Inquirer_ (_hesitating_). Well, I'm not quite sure. I rather fancy he did +say something of that kind. But--(_deprecatingly_)--perhaps he meant +something else. + +_First W. I. M._ No, I didn't. I meant what I said--and I stick to it. But +that isn't the same thing as the Registration System. + +_Second W. I. M._ Perhaps you'll tell us, then, what the Registration +System is? + +_Inquirer_ (_eagerly_). Yes, do. I should like to get to the bottom of it, +because I'm constantly meeting a sort of third cousin of mine, who's a +Registrar of something or other, and I never quite know what he does. All I +know is, that he isn't a Registrar in Bankruptcy. + +_First W. I. M._ Let me see--how can I put it shortly? It's just this--you +chaps have got votes. + +_Inquirer_ (_decisively_). No, I haven't. + +_First W. I. M._ (_put out_). Ah, but you ought to have. + +_Second W. I. M._ (_cutting in_). There you are again. That's just what +I've been saying all along. He ought to have--but he hasn't; so where's +your beautiful system now? + +_First W. I. M._ (_retreating strategically_). I never said it was +_perfect_, did I? But I'll come to that afterwards. (_To_ Inquirer.) Now +why haven't you got a vote? + +_Inquirer_ (_with a painful sense of inferiority_). I'm sure I don't know. +I suppose the old Johnny, whoever he is, didn't chalk me down when he went +round last time. + +_First W. I. M._ Probably you haven't lived in your house long enough. You +haven't got a qualifying period. + +_Inquirer._ Haven't I? How long ought I to have lived there? + +_First W. I. M._ (_vaguely_). Oh, it's something between three and four +years. I can't tell you the exact number; they alter it every year. + +_Second W. I. M._ Who alter it? + +_First W. I. M._ The Revising Barristers, or somebody. + +_Second W. I. M._ Well, my brother-in-law's a Revising Barrister, and I +never heard of him doing that. + +_First W. I. M._ (_sarcastic_). But you don't suppose he'd tell _you_ +everything he does, do you? + +_Inquirer._ But I've lived in my house six years. + +_First W. I. M._ Ah! but aren't you a lodger? + +_Second W. I. M._ What's the odds if he is? My brother's a lodger, and I +know he's got a vote. + +_First W. I. M._ But that's a different franchise altogether. + +_Second W. I. M._ How do you mean? They're both lodgers. + +_First W. I. M._ But they don't live in the same district. Perhaps they +don't give him a latch-key. + +_Inquirer_ (_producing it_). Yes they do. Here it is. (_Chuckles._) I think +I jolly well see myself without a latch-key. But, I say, about this vote. I +don't half like not having got one. What shall I do about it? + +_First W. I. M._ You'd better see somebody about it. + +_Inquirer._ Somebody was talking about Leasehold Franchise the other day. +Perhaps I could get in on that. + +_First W. I. M._ Ah! I daresay that _might_ help you. [_Terminus._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "NOUS AVONS CHANGE TOUT CELA!" + +"WERE YOU EVER IN CHICAGO, DUCHESS?" + +"WHY YES, LADY MARY. IT'S MY NATIVE PLACE, YOU KNOW--AT LEAST, IT USED TO +BE!"] + + * * * * * + +NEW NOVEL BY Mr. G.--_The Art of Midlothian._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: DRESS REHEARSAL OF EMINENT COMEDIANS, GRANDOLPH AND SARUM, +_Previous to Starring Tour in Scotland and Ireland respectively_.] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +_Time and the Woman._ By RICHARD PRYCE. Not by any means a pearl of Pryce, +and certainly not likely to make so great noise in the novel-reading world +as did _The Quiet Mrs. Fleming_, by the same author. METHUEN & CO. publish +it. + +The Baron heartily recommends FRANK BARRETT'S novel, in three vols., +entitled, _Kitty's Father_. A thoroughly absorbing plot, well worked out, +and interesting right up to the last page. _Kitty's_ father is a mysterious +person, and she, not being a wise child, for she doesn't know him, does +several foolish things, and says several wise ones. _Kitty's_ uncle is a +necessary nuisance, but a cleverly and consistently drawn character, while +_Kitty_ herself is delightfully made out of good home-spun material. But +the villanous Curate is just a bit too grotesque, too Uriah-Heepish for the +awfully tragic situation in which he is placed. When the imaginative author +shifts the scene to Dublin, why did he not represent an Irish +Cardinal-Archbishop as waiting at the stage-door to escort home the +light-and-leading lady? But "for a' that and a' that," most decidedly "read +it," quoth the Baron, and on he goes again. + +MARION CRAUFORD'S _Children of the King_, published by MACMILLAN, is a +tragic story, told in most simple and most fascinating style. It is all +colour and character: the colours and the characters being those of +Southern Italy. + +Out of regard to the importunities of numerous correspondents, the Baron +has read IBSEN'S _Master Builder_, translated by two of the Ibsenitish +cult. "Only fancy!" Of all the weak-knee'd, wandering, effeminate, +unwholesome, immoral, dashed "rot," to quote _Lord Arthur_ in the +_Pantomime Rehearsal_, this is the weak-knee'dest, effeminatest, and all +the epithets as above superlatived. Read it by all means, and see it, too, +if you will, but if the honest English play-goer's verdict is worth a "big, +big, D" (I thank thee, W. S. G., for teaching me that abbreviated form of +dashed expressiveness!) he will give IBSEN'S _Master Builder_ the benefit +of the "D," and "D" it once and for ever. And that, at your service, my +masters, is the rough-and-ready opinion expressed by, + +Yours truly, THE BARON DE B.-W. + + * * * * * + +A RACY READING OF AN OLD QUOTATION FROM SCOTT. + +(_Suggested by Burns._) + + "My foot is on Newmarket Heath! + My name, JEM LOWTHER!" + + * * * * * + +The benefits that Sir JOHN LAWES has been able and will yet be able to +confer on agriculturists everywhere, including those in his immediate +neighbourhood, cause him to be regarded as a living exception to the rule +about a prophet in his own country. So, in that part of England, "Profit +and LAWES" are synonymous terms, meaning the same person. + + * * * * * + +"HAPPINESS IN----FOLKESTONE." + +["He said, 'Go and be----' I accordingly went and stayed at Folkestone." + +_See last Thursday's "Daily News;" Evidence in the De Walden Case._] + + Thrice happy Town Council! when pestered to pave, + Remember this fact that her Ladyship mentions. + Intend, but do nothing; your rates you can save + By paving your streets with the best of intentions. + + * * * * * + +HITHERTO UNREPORTED.--Mr. GLADSTONE and Mr. ASQUITH received deputations on +the Eight Hours' Question last Friday. The chief speakers were Mr. PARROT +and Mr. ONIONS. Mr. G. observed that in all his vast experience, frequently +as he had tasted a savoury dish of rabbit and onions, yet the combination +of Parrot with Onions was something really novel. Perhaps Mr. PARROT would +be useful at any bye-election, and would give them the state of the poll. +As to Mr. ONIONS, well, he (Mr. G.) hadn't words of welcome sufficiently +strong for him. Why hadn't he brought "BRER RABBIT" with him? In +approaching the Eight Hours' Question, no time must be lost, so he would at +once proceed to business. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: FROM OUR VILLAGE. + +_Mrs. Sharply_ (_to the Doctor, who has looked in, having heard that her +"good man" is ailing_). "NO, I THANK YE, SIR. YOU SEE I'VE HEERD OF YOU, +SIR, AS YOU'VE BEEN 'PRAC_TI_SING' HERE FOR THE LAST THREE YEARS, AND SO +I'D RATHER YOU WENT 'PRAC_TI_SING' ELSEWHERE, AS I DON'T WANT NO +_'SPERIMENTS_ ON MY OLD MAN!"] + + * * * * * + +At a recent Monday Pop Concert, Mr. BORWICK put any amount of +powder--everyone has seen or heard of Borwick's Powder--into his +performance of "_Suite Anglaise_." As a pretty lady observed, "He might +just as well, or better, have put the name in English, and called it, '_The +Sweet English Girl_.'" Messrs. JOACHIM, RIES, STRAUSS, and PIATTI, played a +string-quartette in C Sharp Minor, and out of respect to the Ecclesiastical +Season of the year, they gave marked prominence to the "_Lento_" in G. +Flat. + + * * * * * + +A GENUINE BUILDING SOCIETY.--The Birds, just now. And its members are not +even waiting for a Re-leaf Fund, which will, however, soon come, with "the +flowers that bloom in the Spring, tra-la!" + + * * * * * + +THE G. O. M. FROM A MUSICAL POINT OF VIEW.--When preternaturally alert, he +is "Mr. G. Sharp." When depressed, he is "Mr. G. Flat." When himself again, +he is "Mr. G. Natural." As being second son, he is "G. Minor." He is also +_hors ligne_. But he refuses to be musically translated to the House of +Lords, and become "The Upper G." + + * * * * * + +_Q._ What is the difference between a lover asking the object of his +affections to marry him, and a guest who ventures to hint to his host that +the Pommery '80 is rather corked? + +_A._ The one pops the question, the other questions the pop. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. R. saw the heading of a paragraph in the _Times_, of Monday. Feb. 27, +"Jade in Upper Burmah." She laid the paper down, and exclaimed, "Dear me! I +wonder who she is!" + + * * * * * + +If we ever do adopt Bimetallism, it is evident, from Mr. GLADSTONE'S +masterly speech, that holders of Consols will obtain very little +consol-ation. + + * * * * * + +PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL. + +(_Translated from the Original Norwegian by Mr. Punch_) + + [PREFATORY NOTE. The original title, _Mester-Pijl-droegster Herdal_, + would sound a trifle too uncouth to the Philistine ear, and is + therefore modified as above, although the term "droegster," strictly + speaking, denotes a practitioner who has not received a regular + diploma.] + +ACT FIRST. + + _An elegantly furnished Drawing-room at_ Dr. HERDAL'S. _In front, on + the left, a Console-table, on which is a large round bottle full of + coloured water. On the right a stove, with a banner-screen made out of + a richly-embroidered chest-protector. On the stove, a stethoscope and + a small galvanic battery. In one corner, a hat and umbrella stand; in + another, a desk, at which stands_ SENNA BLAKDRAF, _making out the + quarterly accounts. Through a glass-door at the back is seen the + Dispensary, where_ RUeBUB KALOMEL _is seated, occupied in rolling a + pill. Both go on working in perfect silence for four minutes and a + half._ + +_Dr. Haustus Herdal_ (_enters through hall-door; he is elderly, with a +plain sensible countenance, but slightly weak hair and expression_). Come +here, Miss BLAKDRAF. (_Hangs up hat, and throws his mackintosh on a +divan._) Have you made out all those bills yet? [_Looks sternly at her._ + +_Senna_ (_in a low hesitating voice_). Almost. I have charged each patient +with three attendances daily. Even when you only dropped in for a cup of +tea and a chat. (_Passionately._) I felt I _must_--I _must_! + +_Dr. Herd._ (_alters his tone, clasps her head in his hands, and +whispers_). I wish you could make out the bills for me, _always_. + +_Senna_ (_in nervous exaltation_). How lovely that would be! Oh, you are so +unspeakably good to me! It is too enthralling to be here! + + [_Sinks down and embraces his knees._ + +_Dr. Herd._ So I've understood. (_With suppressed irritation._) For +goodness' sake, let go my legs! I do _wish_ you wouldn't be so confoundedly +neurotic! + +[Illustration: "For goodness' sake, let go my legs!"] + +_Ruebub_ (_has risen, and comes in through glass-door, breathing with +difficulty; he is a prematurely bald young man of fifty-five, with a +harelip and squints slightly_). I beg pardon, Dr. HERDAL, I see I interrupt +you. (_As SENNA rises._) I have just completed this pill. Have you looked +at it? + + [_He offers it for inspection diffidently._ + +_Dr. Herd._ (_evasively_). It appears to be a pill of the usual dimensions. + +_Ruebub_ (_cast down_). All these years you have never given me one +encouraging word! _Can't_ you praise my pill? + +_Dr. Herd._ (_struggles with himself_). I--I cannot. You should not attempt +to compound pills on your own account. + +_Ruebub_ (_breathing laboriously_). And yet there was a time when _you_, +too---- + +_Dr. Herd._ (_complacently_). Yes, it was certainly a pill that came as a +lucky stepping-stone--but not a pill like that! + +_Ruebub_ (_vehemently_). Listen! Is that your last word? _Is_ my aged mother +to pass out of this world without ever knowing whether I am competent to +construct an effective pill or not? + +_Dr. Herd._ (_as if in desperation_). You had better try it upon your +mother--it will enable her to form an opinion. Only mind--I will not be +responsible for the result. + +_Ruebub._ I understand. Exactly as you tried _your_ pill, all those years +ago, upon Dr. RYVAL. [_He bows, and goes out._ + +_Dr. Herd._ (_uneasily_). He said that so strangely, SENNA. But tell me +now--when are you going to marry him? + +_Senna_ (_starts--half glancing up at him_). I--I don't know. This +year--next-year--now--_never_! I cannot marry him ... I cannot--I +_cannot_--it is so utterly impossible to leave you! + +_Dr. Herd._ Yes, I can understand _that_. But, my poor SENNA, hadn't you +better take a little walk? + +_Senna_ (_clasps her hands gratefully_). How sweet and thoughtful you are +to me! I _will_ take a walk. + +_Dr. Herd._ (_with a suppressed smile_). Do! And--h'm!--you needn't trouble +to come back. I have advertised for a male book-keeper--they are less +emotional. Good-night, my little SENNA! + +_Senna_ (_softly, and quiveringly_). Good-night, Dr. HERDAL! + + [_Staggers out of the hall-door, blowing kisses._ + +_Mrs. Herdal_ (_enters through the window, plaintively_). Quite an +acquisition for you, HAUSTUS, this Miss BLAKDRAF! + +_Dr. Herd._ She's--h'm!--extremely civil and obliging. But I am parting +with her, ALINE--mainly on _your_ account. + +_Mrs. Herd._ (_evades him_). Was it on my account, indeed, HAUSTUS? You +have parted with so many young persons on my account--so you tell me! + +_Dr. Herd._ (_depressed_). Oh, but this is hopeless! When I have tried so +hard to bring a ray of sunlight into your desolate life! I must give RUeBUB +KALOMEL notice too--his pill is really too preposterous! + +_Mrs. Herd._ (_feels gropingly for a chair, and sits down on the floor_). +Him, _too_! Ah, HAUSTUS, you will never make my home a real home for me. My +poor first husband, HALVARD SOLNESS, tried--and _he_ couldn't! When one has +had such misfortunes as I have--all the family portraits burnt, and the +silk dresses, too, and a pair of twins, and nine lovely dolls. + + [_Chokes with tears._ + +_Dr. Herd._ (_as if to lead her away from the subject_). Yes, yes, yes, +that must have been a heavy blow for you, my poor ALINE. I can understand +that your spirits can never be really high again. And then for poor Master +Builder SOLNESS to be so taken up with that Miss WANGEL as he was--that, +too, was so wretched for you. To see him topple off the tower, as he did +that day ten years ago---- + +_Mrs. Herd._ Yes, that too, HAUSTUS. But I did not mind it so much--it all +seemed so perfectly natural in both of them. + +_Dr. Herd._ Natural! For a girl of twenty-three to taunt a middle-aged +architect, whom she knew to be constitutionally liable to giddiness, never +to let him have any peace till he had climbed a spire as dizzy as +himself--and all for the fun of seeing him fall off--how in the world----! + +_Mrs. Herd._ (_laying the table for supper with dried fish and punch_). The +younger generation have a keener sense of humour than we elder ones, +HAUSTUS, and perhaps, after all, she was only a perplexing sort of +allegory. + +_Dr. Herd._ Yes, that would explain her to some extent, no doubt. But how +_he_ could be such an old fool! + +_Mrs. Herd._ That Miss WANGEL was a strangely fascinating type of girl. +Why, even I myself---- + +_Dr. Herd._ (_sits down and takes some fish_). Fascinating? Well, goodness +knows, I couldn't see _that_ at all. (_Seriously._) Has it never struck +you, ALINE, that elderly Norwegians are so deucedly impressionable--mere +bundles of overstrained nerves, hypersensitive ganglia. Except, of course, +the Medical Profession. + +_Mrs. Herd._ Yes, of course; those in that profession are not so inclined +to gangle. And when one has succeeded by such a stroke of luck as you +have---- + +_Dr. Herd._ (_drinks a glass of punch_). You're right enough there. If I +had not been called in to prescribe for Dr. RYVAL, who used to have the +leading practice here, I should never have stepped so wonderfully into his +shoes as I did. (_Changes to a tone of quiet chuckling merriment._) Let me +tell you a funny story, ALINE; it sounds a ludicrous thing--but all my good +fortune here was based upon a simple little pill. For if Dr. RYVAL had +never taken it---- + +_Mrs. Herd._ (_anxiously_). Then you _do_ think it was the pill that caused +him to----? + +_Dr. Herd._ On the contrary; I am perfectly sure the pill had nothing +whatever to do with it--the inquest made it quite clear that it was really +the liniment. But don't you see, ALINE, what tortures me night and day is +the thought that it _might_ unconsciously have been the pill which----Never +to be free from _that_! To have such a thought gnawing and burning +always--always, like a moral mustard poultice! (_He takes more punch._) + +_Mrs. Herd._ Yes; I suppose there is a poultice of that sort burning on +every breast--and we must never take it off either--it is our simple duty +to keep it on. I too, HAUSTUS, am haunted by a fancy that if this Miss +WANGEL were to ring at our bell now---- + +_Dr. Herd._ After she has been lost sight of for ten years? She is safe +enough in some Sanatorium, depend upon it. And what if she _did_ come? Do +you think, my dear good woman, that I--a sensible clear-headed general +practitioner, who have found out all I know for myself--would let her play +the deuce with me as she did with poor HALVARD? No, general practitioners +don't _do_ such things--even in Norway! + +_Mrs. Herd._ Don't they indeed, HAUSTUS? (_The Surgery-bell rings loudly._) +Did you hear _that_? There she is! I will go and put on my best cap. It is +my duty to show her _that_ small attention. + +_Dr. Herd._ (_laughing nervously_). Why, what on earth!----It's the +night-bell. It is most probably the new book-keeper! (Mrs. HERDAL _goes +out_; Dr. HERDAL _rises with difficulty, and opens the door_.) Goodness +gracious!--it _is_ that girl, after all! + +_Hilda Wangel_ (_enters through the Dispensary door. She wears a divided +skirt, thick boots, and a Tam o'Shanter, with an eagle's wing in it. +Somewhat freckled. Carries a green tin cylinder slung round her, and a rug +in a strap. Goes straight up to_ HERDAL, _her eyes sparkling with +happiness_). How are you? I've run you down, you see! The ten years are up. +Isn't it scrumptiously thrilling, to see me like this? + +_Dr. Herd._ (_politely retreating_). It is--very much so--but still I don't +in the least understand---- + +_Hilda_ (_measures him with a glance_). Oh, you _will_. I have come to be +of use to you. I've no luggage, and no money. Not that _that_ makes any +difference. I never _have_. And I've been allured and attracted here. You +surely know how these things come about? [_Throws her arms round him._ + +_Dr. Herd._ What the deuce! Miss WANGEL, you _mustn't_. I'm a married man! +There's my wife! [Mrs. HERD. _enters_. + +_Hilda._ As if _that_ mattered--it's only dear, sweet Mrs. SOLNESS. _She_ +doesn't mind--_do_ you, dear Mrs. SOLNESS? + +_Mrs. Herd._ It does not seem to be of much _use_ minding, Miss WANGEL. I +presume you have come to stay? + +_Hilda_ (_in amused surprise_). Why, of course--what else should I come +for? I _always_ come to stay, until--h'm! + + [_Nods slowly, and sits down at table._ + +_Dr. Herd._ (_involuntarily_). She's drinking my punch! If she thinks I'm +going to stand this sort of thing, she's mistaken. I'll soon show her a +Pill-Doctor is a very different kind of person from a mere Master Builder! + + [HILDA _finishes the punch with an indefinable expression in her eyes, + and_ Dr. HERDAL _looks on gloomily as the Curtain falls. End of First + Act._ + + * * * * * + +"AMONG THE MEMORABLE BOOKS OF THE PRESENT RAINE."--Canon RAINE has just +published (_per_ LONGMANS) his _York_, as one of the series of Historic +Towns. The proofs of RAINE on _York_ of course came very moist from the +press. Is there a frontispiece to it of "RAINE poring over his own book?" +The work is highly spoken of,--so _disons_, "_Vive le Raine!_" + + * * * * * + +Mr. WILSON BARRETT is to appear in a play called _Pharaoh_--"What the +plague!"--Is he coming out as an Egyptian Mummer? Will the drama prove +interesting to plague-goers? + + * * * * * + +A FULL MEASURE OF JUSTICE. + +(_According to the Modern Method._) + + SCENE--_The Old Bailey._ Judge _seated on the Bench, thoroughly + enjoying himself_. Prisoner _in the Dock_. Jurymen _in the Box_. + Counsel, Solicitors, _and_ Public, _in attendance_. + +_Judge._ Now I will swear the Jury. + +_Officer of the Court._ I beg your Lordship's pardon, but I have always +been accustomed to---- + +_Judge_ (_interrupting_). Not at all; I will do it myself. You can't give +_me_ too much work. (_Swears the_ Jury.) And now, Prisoner, what do you +plead, guilty or not guilty? + +_Prisoner._ Well, my Lord, I should say---- + +[Illustration] + +_Judge._ Not guilty. Quite right, always give yourself the benefit of the +doubt. You can't imagine what stupid Jurymen we have sometimes. Quite right +to say Not guilty. And now who appears for the prosecution? + +_Counsel._ I do, my Lord, I---- + +_Judge._ Glad to see the eminent counsel here, and I know of no one who can +better conduct a case. Still, with my learned friend's or rather my learned +brother's, I should say the learned Counsel's permission, I will just open +for the Crown myself. (_Opens for the Crown with brilliant effect. +Applause._) No; I cannot allow any demonstration of that sort. By the way +(_to_ Counsel for the Prosecution), Have we any witnesses? + +_Counsel._ Yes, my Lord, a Police Sergeant. + +_Judge._ Oh, indeed, I will soon settle him. (Witness _enters box and is +sworn_.) And now, you Sir, I am not going to allow any speeches--so be on +your guard. (_Examines and cross-examines him._) Have we any more +witnesses? + +_Counsel._ No, my Lord--that is our case. + +_Judge._ Quite so. The face of the learned Counsel, who is retained for the +defence, is new to me, but if he has no objection, I will open for him. + +_Counsel._ As your Lordship pleases. + +_Judge._ Thank you. (_Addresses the Jury._) And now, if we have no +witnesses, I think I will sum up. (_To_ Counsel for the Defence.) Have we +any witnesses? + +_Counsel._ As your Lordship pleases. + +_Judge._ Well, I think we won't call any witnesses, because then the +Prosecution won't have a reply. + +_Counsel._ As your Lordship pleases. + +_Judge._ Quite so. And now, Gentlemen of the Jury, I have now my own +special functions to perform. I will sum up the case in my judicial +capacity. You must know then----(_Sums up._) And now I will leave you to +decide upon your verdict. (_Jury consults._) Or perhaps you would like to +leave the matter to me? + +_Foreman of the Jury._ As your Lordship pleases. + +_Judge._ Thank you. Then I think we may say "Guilty." Prisoner at the Bar, +it is now my duty to sentence you. I think, under all the circumstances of +the case, that I need not treat you too harshly. There is no doubt that the +prosecution has been conducted in a very able manner; and this remark is +equally applicable to the manner in which the defence has been carried out. +I think a month's imprisonment will be sufficient. Prisoner, you are +sentenced to a month's imprisonment. + +_Prisoner._ As your Lordship pleases. + +_Judge._ But, as I have had a good deal to do with this case, I think I may +as well remain in it to the end. So, with the consent of the convict, the +Counsel, and the Jury, I will go to prison myself. + +_The Entire Court._ As your Lordship pleases. + +_Judge._ Thank you all very much. I hope, after a month's retirement, to +have the pleasure of meeting you again. + + [_Exit, in custody. Curtain._ + + * * * * * + +FOR A FEW NIGHTS OHNET.--Mr. and Mrs. KENDAL have revived _The Ironmaster_. +As may be imagined, the dialogue is full of irony. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE OLD COUNTRY. ST. WYCLIFFE'S COLLEGE, OXBRIDGE. + +_Mr. Jonah P. Skeggs, from Chicago (with his family) suddenly bursts on +Jones, who keeps at Letter A in the Cloisters._ + +"SIR--WE OFFER YOU--MANY APOLOGIES--FOR THIS--UNWARRANTABLE INTRUSION! WE +WERE NOT AWARE THE OLD RUIN WAS INHABITED!"] + + * * * * * + +BETWEEN THE ROUNDS. + + ["The record of the Opposition, so far, is one of wasted opportunities + and ill-conceived tactics. They have been beaten, out-manoeuvred and + discredited by a foe on whom, with proper management, they might often + have turned the tables.... These are no days for punctilious or + overstrained courtesy in dealing with political opponents.... + Conservatives and Unionists may be tolerably certain that they will + gain nothing by this misplaced delicacy."--_The Standard._] + +_Perturbed Old Party loquitur_:-- + + Wich, ARTHUR, I'm puffeck aweer as a fighter you're truly tip-top, + Our party's pecooliar pride, and our cause's particular prop! + _You_ can "pop in a slommacking wunner," if ever a lad could, dear boy: + But--well, there, you ain't scored _this_ round; and yer foes is + a-chortling with joy! + 'Ow is it, my ARTHUR, 'ow is it! I've nurriged you up from a kid, + And if ever a lathy young scrapper showed pluck and fair promidge, boy, + _you_ did; + Wich I've cheridged and cracked you up constant, and backed you in all of + your fights. + And I've swore it was you, right as rain, as would do the Grand Ould 'Un + to rights! + But he's turned up more younger than ever--O drabbit him; 'ow he do + wear!-- + I thought he'd be knocked out at once, the fust round, and he ain't + turned a hair! + He hits hard and fast as the "TINMAN," he's nimble as poor "Young + DUCROW." + And now this round's over, _where are we_? I'm jiggered, dear boy, if _I_ + know! + Look at 'im! As perky as pickles! Weaves in like a young 'un, he do, + Jest as limber of limb as a kitten; pops in that perdigious one--two, + Like a new Eighty-tonner. Good gracious, the wetterun's all over the + shop! + He can mill you, or throw you a burster; feint, parry, duck, counter, or + stop! + Reglar mixture of MACE, Young DUTCH SAM, and a Old Pugilistical 'And! + 'Ow the dooce does he do it, I wonder? I don't mind admitting it's grand. + But--wot price our Party, my ARTHUR? He's scoring two points to our one; + And I don't see the fun of it, ARTHUR, I certinly _don't_ see the fun. + + Mustn't take it to heart overmuch, 'ARTY! 'Taint as I wants for to scold; + But--you play him too light--_entry noo_! 'Taint acos you are young, and + he's old. + As you need be so precious "punctilious." Delicate 'andling of _him_ + Won't pay; it's misplaced altogether. Go at him, lad! Lam the old limb! + His bellows can't be as they used to wos. Youth will be served--that's + your chance; + But, if you play light with Old Shifty, he'll lead you no end of a dance. + Think of BENJY, dear boy, my old champion, bless his black curls! _He_ + wired in, + Never thinking of manners or taste, wich is muck when you're fighting to + win. + Look at GRANDOLPH, the Marlborough Midget, as often reminds me of BEN! + There--there! Don't turn touchy, and tiff; we all need a straight tip now + and then. + You can do him, next round, I've no doubt, if you'll only fight up to + your form. + Pull yourself well together, 'it 'ard, bustle up the old boy, make it + warm!-- + Remember wot JOHNNY BROOME'S mother once wrote to her boy--mark, and + mind!-- + "Be sure you make use of your left; keep away from your man till you find + You can reach him in safety, and _then_--give him pepper. Avoid being + thrown. + But give 'im all the bursters you can!" Wich that Ammyzon, who is beknown + To the fistical world, gave her son--as you're mine--werry proper advice. + When time's called, my ARTHUR, wire in; and wotever you do, _don't be + nice_! + No "overstrained courtesy" _this_ time! It's blessed nigh bunnicked your + chance. + Let me fan you, dear boy, let me fan you! And when it is time to hadvance + Go at 'im for all you are wuth! Bless yer, him and his low Irish lot + Won't be in it with GENTLEMAN ARTHUR--_if only you'll give it him hot_! + + [_Left fanning and fuming._ + + * * * * * + +SHAKSPEARII JUNIORES.--Sir AUGUSTUS HARRIS'S and PETTITT'S _Prodigal +Daughter_ is going all over the shop. She is coming out in France, in +Germany, also, of course, in the Horse-tryin' capital, and will appear, as +a matter-of-Corso, in Rome. This for the original English authors is a +dramatic triumph which for the universality of their work is second only to +that of SHAKSPEARE. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: BETWEEN THE ROUNDS. + +PERTURBED OLD PARTY (_loq._) "WHICH, ARTHUR MY DEAR, YOU'VE TREATED HIM TOO +DELICATE IN FUST ROUND! YOU'LL 'AVE TO PULL YERSELF TOGETHER, IF YOU'RE +A-GOIN' TO DO ANY GOOD!"] + + * * * * * + +POPULAR SONGS RE-SUNG. + +THE MAN THAT SMOKES THE RANK TWO-D CIGAR, OH! + +AIR--"_The Man that broke the Bank at Monte Carlo._" + +[Illustration] + + [_Pardon, good_ GILBERT, _pardon, genial_ COBORN, _That from the Bois + Boolong. Unto the Cockney purlieus of 'Igh 'Olborn, We shift your + famous song._] + + I'm just "all there," no 'ARRY; I've the money, so I score! + To a Race last week I went, + And there staked a quarter's rent. + Dame Fortune smiled upon me as she never done before: + And now I've copped the ochre I'm a gent! + Yus, now I've piled the pieces, I'm a gent! + + _Chorus._ + + As I mash and lark in Finsbury Park, + With a free an' heasy hair, + You can twig the donahs stare. + "BOB must be a millionnaire!" + You can 'ear 'em cry, + "Oh, ain't _'e_ fly? + And carn't 'e wink the hother heye?" + The man wot smokes the prime Two-D cigar, oh! + + I've chucked my crib, and two-quid-screw, for betting's now _my_ walk; + I do my mornin' march + Down to the Marble Arch. + I'm bound to spot more winners; I've a eye that's like a 'awk; + I'm a mass of oof and 'air-oil, shine and starch; + Yus, a reg'lar mass of ochre, shine and starch. + + _Chorus._ + + As I walk along, still "going strong," + With my Tuppenny all a-flare, + You can 'ear old buffers swear, + As my baccy scents the air. + You can hear 'em sigh, + And moan, "Oh my!" + You can see 'em choke, and blink the heye + At "the man wot smokes the rank Two-D cigar, oh!" + + I paternise the Promenards on a Sunday, with the Swells, + With my topper on the skew, + And my cloud a-blowin' blue; + For a tuppenny smoke and a leary joke they nobble the mam'selles, + And if they're nuts on me, wot can _I_ do? + Yus, if they're arter me, wot can _I_ do? + + _Chorus._ + + As I swagger and swell along Pell-Mell, + With a reg'lar oof-bird air, + You can 'ear sour swells declare, + "A Whitechapel weed!"--and swear. + But their narsty cry + Means--jealousy. + So I puff, and wink the hother heye-- + "The man wot smokes the rank Two-D Cigar, oh!" + + * * * * * + +Nuts for Knutsford. + +In the City Article of last Saturday's _Times_, we read that Lord KNUTSFORD +has joined the London Board of "CHAFFEY, BROS., Limited." What a festive +board! What a rivalry must exist among the CHAFFEY Brothers as to who shall +be the chaffiest and the wheatiest of the family! + + * * * * * + +WOMEN'S WRONGS IN JAPAN. + + [The new Japanese Press Bill prohibits women from becoming Publishers + or Editors.--_Daily Graphic._] + +[Illustration] + + A Land of flowers and of Art, + Which lived for centuries apart, + Some years ago woke with a start; + Folks, simply dressed by wrappin' knees + In silken robes of dainty hue, + Began to long for something new + The good, the beautiful, the true + No longer charmed the Japanese. + + So Western Art improved their lot; + A House of Commons grew. Each got + Boots, trousers, frock-coat, chimney-pot. + "Art? 'E don't care a rap, an' 'e's," + Saus 'ARRY, "sich a swell! I'm blowed + 'E'd knock 'em in the Old Kent Road." + You are a sight, dressed _a la mode_ + O too-progressive Japanese! + + And yet, to _Madame Chrysantheme_, + Divided Skirter, Primrose Dame, + And all the rest, are but a name; + It therefore cannot happen ease + Is yours, although men dress like frights, + And even have election fights; + One thing is wanting--Women's Rights, + O _fin-de-siecle_ Japanese! + + * * * * * + +THE COMING COAL-SCUTTLE. + +[Illustration] + + Sweet Maiden, what is this you wear, + This most eccentric sort of bonnet, + That stands erect upon your hair + As though a coal-scoop fixed upon it? + + A very funny shape it seems, + Flat, oval, rather like a shuttle, + Or, like some Statesmen's foreign schemes, + A sort of undecided scuttle. + + And yet not wholly of the kind + Beloved by loud Salvation lasses, + Which brings the coal-box to one's mind-- + BOOTH'S fashions would not suit the Classes. + + There's some resemblance to a spoon, + But you are not considered "spooney"-- + Word coined by some low buffoon, + Romantic, quite, as "_Annie Rooney_." + + It's rather like the ace of spades, + And yet it plays the deuce with features, + O Queen of hearts, of pretty maids, + So say we knaves of clubs, male creatures; + + Who look askance at what may shade-- + When larger grown--the face that charms us. + If scoop or scuttle, spoon or spade, + No matter; each of them alarms us. + + * * * * * + +A POSSIBLE BUNGLER.--Through REUTER'S Agency last Friday, we learn that +"BUNGLE KHAN is in Afghan territory." Capital man to be opposed to us. We +shall be ready to take any advantage of him, as, if BUNGLE KHAN _can +bungle_, he will of course do so. + + * * * * * + +ONE FOR THE OTHER SIDE.--Mrs. R. cannot understand how Mr. GLADSTONE can +advocate Monometallism in the House of Commons, as, she says, she has +always heard that "Words are silver, and silence is gold." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: EMBARRASSING. + +_Curate._ "HELLO, REGIE! AH, IT'S GOOD TO BE YOU! A POOR BEGGAR LIKE ME, +YOU SEE, HAS TO BE CONTENT WITH RUNNING AFTER THE HOUNDS ON FOOT." + +_Regie_ (_who, as the Son of our M.F.H., has all the Hunting-Man's horror +of Foot-people_). "AH--YES. AND THE PATER SAYS HE WOULDN'T MIND THAT SO +MUCH, IF ONLY HALF THE PARISH DIDN'T SOMETIMES TURNOUT TO RUN AFTER +_YOU_!"] + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. + +_House of Commons, Monday, February 27._--"Am thinking, TOBY," said RIGBY, +just now, "of applying for Chiltern Hundreds. Parliament isn't quite the +place I pictured to myself when I fought for a seat. Of course I've done +pretty well. To be made SOLICITOR-GENERAL right off, with WADDY around, and +WILLIS still in prime of life and energy, was a fine thing. But House seems +perversely inclined to accept me as a joke, and that's not the sort of +thing I'm accustomed to at Chancery Bar. Look what happened the other +night, when, in my learned brother RUSSELL'S absence, I answered questions. +Did it in my best, most imposing, and conclusive style. Kept my eye on +SPEAKER throughout, to see how he'd take it. Effect most satisfactory. You +know I make CHITTY sit up, and NORTH tremble. They, to certain extent, used +to it; all new to SPEAKER, and told accordingly. Was really fascinated +myself. I frowned at him, pursed my mouth, wrinkled my forehead, squared my +jaw, sometimes lowered my voice into my boots, anon uplifted it above where +my wig ought to have been. Being my first appearance at table, thought it +worth while to make an effort. Judging from SPEAKER'S limp appearance +towards conclusion of my remarks, felt I had done it. Suddenly curious +noise, that I'm told is known as a titter, interrupted me, and, before I +had quite finished, there was a boisterous roar of laughter." + +"Oh, come," I said, "you mustn't take that too much to heart. House will +have its joke, and, if you won't make it, it sometimes makes it round you, +using you as lay-figure. Your voice and manner in answering simple +matter-of-fact question, were perhaps a size or so too large. But you'll +get the hang of the place by-and-by, and will be all right." + +"I don't think so," said SOLICITOR-GENERAL, sadly. "Look again what +happened just now. House unexpectedly goes into Committee. Can't find +MELLOR. 'You take the Chair,' says the SQUIRE; 'you'll fill it admirably.' +No time for hesitation; I take the Chair; Clerk claps Bill into my hand. I +say, 'Question is, that I do report progress, and ask leave to sit again.' +Shouts of 'Aye,' and 'No.' 'I think the Ayes have it,' I say, in deep +chest-notes, with persuasive fall of eyebrows. 'The Noes have it!' they +shout. Very well; first duty of Chairman is to be impartial; so _I_ say, +'The Noes have it.' Again they roar with laughter. WOODALL, in charge of +Bill, feels for sword of Financial Secretary to War Office. Fortunately, +can't find it. Otherwise, Chair of Committees might have been steepled with +my gore. What shall I do next? 'Put question again,' Clerk hoarsely +whispered. 'Question is, that I do report progress, and ask leave to sit +again. Those who are of that opinion say Aye; the contrary, No. I think the +Ayes have it.' That would at least get me out of the Chair, and you +certainly won't find me asking for leave to sit again. But what follows? In +all parts of the House, just now opposing progress, hilarious shout of 'No! +No!' rises up. That means I'm to go on with the Bill; but I know if I +declare 'the Noes have it,' they'll turn round to the 'Ayes.' So, after +standing for moment irresolutely, Bill in hand, I'm not ashamed to say I +bolted from table, taking Bill with me. House roared louder than ever. Seem +to have discovered excellent joke. But I don't see it, TOBY. If this is +House of Commons life, give me the dignity and quiet of the Chancery Bar." + +Quite a procession of new Members took their seats on election. Honours of +the day with HARRY LAWSON, who, after stubborn fight, has won Cirencester. +As young HARRY, with his beaver on, marched to table, Liberals temporarily +relieved themselves from imputation that they don't know how to cheer. + +_Business done._--Local Veto Bill brought in. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: APPLYING FOR THE CHILTERN HUNDREDS.] + +_Tuesday Night._--"It's a natural temptation," said CHARLES RUSSELL, "for +the human mind to believe that Mr. G.'s latest performance at table of +House of Commons excels all he has done before. There is a phrase--you are +probably familiar with it in HORACE--which speaks of the _Laudator temporis +acti_. But the other impulse is certainly, in this connection, quite as +strong, I, therefore, hesitate to affirm that that's the best speech Mr. G. +ever made; but certainly it's among the best." + +[Illustration: Young Harry obtaining his Majority on Coming of Age in the +Parliamentary Time.] + +It was on Bimetallism. Like olives and claret, Bimetallism quite an +acquired taste; ordinary Member will have none of it; flees House when +subject announced. In the Parliamentary world, Bimetallism supplies part of +the BROWNING or IBSEN cult known out-of-doors. Analogy accurate inasmuch, +that whilst mass of mankind are averse to contemplation of topic, the few +faithful pass all ordinary bounds in the enthusiasm of their worship. Thus, +for upwards of hour to-night, MEYSEY-THOMPSON handled it as if he loved it. +MONTAGU, whilst musically jingling in trowser-pocket handful of +newly-minted sovereigns, equally adulatory. Then Mr. G. walked in. It was +reasonably thought in advance that Bimetallism would prove too much even +for the charm of his oratory. Had evidently come down unprepared for +special effort; neither sheaf of notes nor pomatum-pot. He listened to +mover and seconder, and then just talked to entranced House, crowding up in +every corner. Quite surprised, as Mr. G. was himself when he sat down, to +find he'd been talking for an hour. + +_Business done._--House declares by 229 votes against 148, will have +nothing to do with Bimetallism. + + * * * * * + +_Wednesday._--Hear a very pleasant thing in connection with an old friend. +Am told that as soon as Local Veto Bill passes into law, WILFRID LAWSON is +to be raised to the Peerage. + +"Why not?" asks SQUIRE OF MALWOOD. "On the principle that the Devil +shouldn't have all the good tunes suitable for WESLEY'S hymns, why should +the Trade have the monopoly of the Peerage? Why shouldn't there be a +Viscount APPOLINARIS as well as a Baron BASS, a Lord BARLEYWATER to pair +off with a Baron BARLEYCORN? Let us drink (in toast-and-water), health and +long life to Lord BARLEYWATER of Brayton!" + +_Business done._--In discussion on Irish National Education Bill GRANDOLPH +effects little surprise. Been running admirably in double harness with +Prince ARTHUR. This afternoon suddenly jibs; nearly upsets coach. + + * * * * * + +_Friday_, 1 A.M.--"Begin to think, TOBY," said Prince ARTHUR, as we walked +home together in the moonlight, "that we shall scotch this Home-Rule Bill +yet. Expectation only just dawned on me. When I went down to House in the +afternoon, was of different opinion. Had philosophically settled down to +acceptance of inevitable. Might maim it a bit in Committee; play with it so +as to block off other business, and send it up to Lords at so late period +of Session that they would seem justified in throwing it out, on score of +inadequate time to discuss it. Now I think we shall go one better. COURTNEY +thought he could serve Unionist cause better from standpoint below Gangway. +The supremest service he could render to that cause was effected when he +created vacancy in Chair." + +"Don't you think," I said, "they were a little hard on MELLOR? Wasn't the +sport something after the fashion of the gallant emprise in Windsor Park +with the carted stag? And then the merry sportsmen didn't give the new +Chairman the ordinary courtesy of a fair start and a little run." + +"Oh," said Prince ARTHUR, "if you put it in that way, of course there's +something to be said. But all is fair in hate and war. Mr. G. should have +thought of that before he got rid of COURTNEY. Our business is to stop +Home-Rule Bill from passing, and after to-night the way is clear, and the +goal certain." + +_Business done._--New Chairman baited for an hour by Westminster Clock. +Before the lawless, disorderly squabble about Law and Order in County +Clare, regular foot-ball scrimmage, in which SAUNDERSON naturally turned +up. In one of the pauses the Colonel dropped into poetry? could hear him +crooning to himself:-- + + There's Justice O'BRIEN of Clare, + How rare! + 'Tis little for justice they care + Down there! + + They're choke full of crimes, + (So at least says the _Times_), + And they've got no policemen to spare, + How quare! + They've got no policemen to spare. + +_Friday Night._--Seems, after all, MELLOR quite right in his ruling +yesterday. Point was that, on supplementary Estimate, you may not debate +questions of policy settled when original vote agreed to. Prince ARTHUR +denounced this as absolutely novel principle. CHAMBERLAIN kept game up from +other side, and for full hour conviction borne in upon new Chairman that +life not worth living. SPEAKER, appealed to to-day, declares MELLOR to have +been in the right. Report of Select Committee on Estimates. Procedure cited +to show COURTNEY categorically laid down the principle challenged, and +systematically acted upon it. + +[Illustration: Irish National Football Match.] + +"Yes," said SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, reflectively stroking his chin, "and +COURTNEY might have got up and said so last night. Only his fatal +bashfulness, his irreclaimably retiring disposition, could have kept him +silent in such circumstances. True, his interposition would have spoiled +the little game of his friends. It would not have been War, but it would +have been Magnanimous." + +_Business done._--ALBERT ROLLIT, and Ex-Lord Mayor WHITEHEAD, carry +Resolution declaring Revised Railway Rates prejudicial to commercial +interests of country. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. +104, MARCH 11, 1893*** + + +******* This file should be named 22691.txt or 22691.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/6/9/22691 + + + +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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