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diff --git a/22724.txt b/22724.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..56f91f4 --- /dev/null +++ b/22724.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1664 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, +March 25, 1893, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, March 25, 1893 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: September 22, 2007 [EBook #22724] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON *** + + + + +Produced by Lesley Halamek, Juliet Sutherland and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +Volume 104, March 25th 1893 + +edited by Sir Francis Burnand + + + +[Illustration: THE PANGS OF MATRIMONY!!! + +_Casual Acquaintance._ "HEAR YOU'RE TO BE MARRIED, MR. RIBBES. +CONGRATULATE YOU!" +_Mr. Ribbes._ "MUCH OBLIGED, BUT I DUNNO SO MUCH ABOUT CONGRATULATIONS. +IT'S CORSTIN' ME A PRETTY PENNY, I TELL YER. MRS. RIBBES AS IS TO BE, +SHE WANTS 'ER _TROUSSEAU_, YER KNOW; AN' THEN THERE'S THE FURNISHIN', +AN' THE LICENCE, AN' THE PARSON'S FEES; AN' THEN I 'AVE TO GIVE 'ER AN' +'ER SISTER A BIT O' JOOL'RY A-PIECE; AN' WOT WITH ONE THING AN' ANOTHER +--SHE'S A 'EAVY WOMAN, YER KNOW, THIRTEEN STUN ODD--WELL, I RECKON +SHE'LL 'A CORST ME PRETTY NEAR _TWO-AN'-ELEVEN A POUND_ AFORE I GIT 'ER +'OME!"] + + * * * * * + +SMALL BY DEGREES. + +_A Story of Defiance not Defence._ + +There was once a Battalion of Volunteers with its full complement of +field, company, and non-commissioned officers, and rank and file. And +according to experts the Regiment was a most valuable addition to the +national defence. One day a General, covered over with gold lace and +wearing a cocked hat, rode up to the Colonel and called him out. + +"Colonel," said the General, "we are thinking of giving over your +command to a C.O. of a Depot Centre. It won't interfere with you much +and give you less to do. You may still call yourself Colonel--not that +I call you so myself. I mean off parade." + +But the Colonel did not seem to see it, and so he sent in his papers +and rode away. + +Then the General from the War Office called up the two remaining Field +Officers. + +"Majors" said he, "it seems to us we can help you a good deal by +appointing a Major from a service battalion as Adjutant. Then you +can rank beneath him, and he can look after you and the two half +battalions you each of you are supposed to command. You may still call +yourselves Majors--not that I call you so myself. I mean off parade." + +But the Majors did not seem to see it, so they sent in _their_ papers +too. + +Then the General from the War Office called up the Company Officers. + +"Gentlemen," said he, "we shall continue the snubbing, of which you +have had so much experience. You will do all sorts of new work, and +go to all sorts of fresh expense in the near future. Not that it will +increase your dignity--not a bit of it. However, you may still call +yourselves Captains and Lieutenants--not that I call you so myself. I +mean off parade." + +But the Company Officers did not seem to see it, so they sent in their +papers and marched away. Then the General from the War Office called +up the rest of the Regiment. + +"Now, Non-commissioned Officers and Men," said he, "you have no one to +command you, and no one to pay for your marches out, prizes, and +the rest of it. But don't let that bother you. You may still call +yourselves Soldiers--not that I call you so myself. I mean off +parade." + +But the remainder of the Regiment did not seem to see it, so they sent +in _their_ resignations, and vanished. + +Then the Officer from the War Office rode towards Pall Mall. + +"It won't interfere with me much," said he, "and give the Department +less to do. And I can still call myself General--though I scarcely +deserve the title, either on or off parade!" + + * * * * * + +HOW IT STRIKES "THE CONTEMPORARY." + +["Why should not women take the B.A. degree?... Unfortunately the +older Universities have resented every attempt at breaking down their +cherished exclusiveness."--_From an Article in "The Contemporary +Review" for March._] + + Despotic Dons' dominion + Still subjugates us all, + They scoff at our opinion, + Our purposes miscall; + Will no deliverer appear, + And is it vainly, as we fear, + We hold our meetings every year + Within St. James's Hall? + + Our wrongs, if brought to knowledge, + Would surely move your hearts, + Degreeless from her College + The Wrangler-ess departs; + And shall not too the maids, who can + Give all the usages of [Greek: an], + As well as any living man + Be Bachelors of Arts? + + Persuasive or abusive + We fail our point to gain, + Disgracefully exclusive + These ancient seats remain: + But yet a future we foresee + When Women will the rulers be, + And Men will beg a Pass-degree, + Will beg, and beg in vain! + + * * * + + P.S.--The pith of our petition + Is seldom understood, + It is not all ambition, + Though this, no doubt, is good; + But, speaking frankly, we declare + The point for which we really care + Is just to gain the right to wear + That _most_ becoming hood! + + * * * * * + +THE WITLER'S WISION OF WENGEANCE. + +(IN A SLIGHTLY PICKWICKIAN SENSE.) + +[Illustration: _Being the Dream of an angry "Brother Bung" after +attending the Meeting at St. James's Hall, and trying to soothe +himself with a dip into Dickens._] + +["He" Lord BURTON, "asked why this drastic, this dishonest, this +catchpenny, this gerrymandering Bill should have been brought in?.... +They had heard much of late about the Nonconformist Conscience, which +was said to be the backbone of the Liberal Party. He firmly believed +that the Bill had been brought forward to suit the Nonconformist +Conscience, to pander to the hypocritical self-righteousness, and the +sham respectability of a certain class."--_Lord Burton, at the St. +James's Hall Meeting, on the Direct Veto Bill._] + + * * * * * + +Mr. WITLER, the elder, gave vent to an extraordinary sound, which, +being neither a groan, nor a grunt, nor a gasp, nor a howl, nor a +hoot, nor a hiss, nor a shout, nor a shriek, yet seemed to partake +in some degree of the character of all these inarticulate laryngeal +exercises. It was a big vocal blend, and a stentorian; it made him +pant and turn apoplectically purple in the face, it shook the house, +and very nearly "brought it down." + +Mr. WITLER'S "wocal wagaries" (as his son called them) when he _was_ +roused, were something tremendous, earthquaky, appalling! + +Mr. SWIGSLOP STIGGINS, a leading Shepherd of the Nonconformist +Rechabite Flock, unwarned by this nondescript sound, which he +understood to betoken remorse or repentance, in fact, an awakening of +the "Nonconformist Conscience," in a somewhat unlikely quarter, +looked about him, rubbed his hands, wept, smiled, wept again, and +then mechanically uttering a guttural "Hear! Hear!" (as though he were +listening, in the House of Commons, to the jocund HARCOURT, or the +jocular LAWSON, or the robustious T. W. RUSSELL, or the astute CAINE) +and then, walking across the room to a well-remembered pigeon-hole, +took thence an official-looking scroll, sat down, formally unfolded +it, cleared his throat, and began with pompous complacency to read +aloud its title, preamble, clauses, and provisions, compulsory +regulations, and peremptory prohibitions to the apparently +semi-asphyxiated Mr. WITLER. + +The elder Mr. WITLER, who still continued to make various strange +and uncouth attempts to appear indifferent, offered not a single +word during these proceedings; but when STIGGINS stopped for breath, +previous to a second reading, he darted upon him, and, snatching +the scroll from his hand, first buffeted him briskly about the +head therewith, and then threw it into the fire. Then, seizing the +astonished gentleman firmly by the collar, he suddenly fell to kicking +him most furiously, accompanying every application of his boots to Mr. +STIGGINS'S person with sundry violent and incoherent anathemas, +such as--"Blatant Barabbas!"--"Bumptious busybody!"--"Unblushing +bandit!"--"Barefaced spoliator!"--"Hypocritical humbug!"--"Iniquitous +inquisitor!"--"Fanatical faddist!"--"Self-righteous sneak!"--"Sham +saint!"--"Jerrymandering JEREMY DIDDLER!"--"Pragmatical +pump!"--"Little Bethelite Boanerges!" and "Nonconformist +_Tartuffe_!!!" + +"SAMMY," said Mr. WITLER, "put my cap on tight for me!" SAM dutifully +adjusted the cap more firmly on his father's head, and the old +gentleman, resuming his kicking with greater agility than before, +tumbled Mr. STIGGINS through the bar, and through the passage, out +at the front door, and so into the street, the kicking continuing the +whole way, and increasing in vehemence rather than diminishing every +time the boot was lifted. + +It was a beautiful and exhilarating sight (_to "the Trade"_) to see +the water-drinker writhing in Mr. WITLER'S grasp, and his whole frame +quivering with anguish as kick followed kick in rapid succession; +it was a still more exciting spectacle (_to Bungdom all round, from +boisterous_ Lord BURTON _to the humblest rural Boniface_) to behold +Mr. WITLER, after a powerful struggle, immersing Mr. STIGGINS'S head +in a horse-trough full of water, and holding it there until he was +half suffocated. + +"There!" said Mr. WITLER, throwing all his energy into one most +complicated kick, as he at length permitted Mr. STIGGINS to withdraw +his head from the trough, "send any vun o' them villainous Vetoists, +from burly Sir VILLIAM BARABBAS hisself down to the pettifoggingest +Local Hoptioniser in Little Peddlington, _here_, or to St. James's +'All, or the Alhambra, or elseveres in public meeting or privit pub, +and I'll pound him to a argymentative jelly fust, and drownd him in +public-speritted opinion arterwards!" + +"SAMMY" (added Mr. WITLER, puffing and perspiring freely), "help +me in, and fill me a stiff glass o' Speshal Scotch; for I'm out of +breath, my boy!" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: RATHER SUSPICIOUS. + +_Mistress_ (_to Housekeeper, after "the Young Person" has left the +room_). "REALLY, WILKINS, I COULD NOT ENGAGE THAT YOUNG PERSON. SHE IS +TOO UGLY BY FAR!" + +_Housekeeper._ "VERY SORRY, MUM. BUT YOU SAID _SO PARTICULARLY_ THAT +I WAS TO LOOK OUT FOR A GOOD PLAIN COOK,--'QUITE A PLAIN COOK,' YOU +SAID, MUM,--THAT I THOUGHT YOU HAD SOME PARTICULAR REASON----"] + + * * * * * + +VERY NATURAL.--Mrs. R. pays great attention to the Parliamentary +debates, and listens attentively while her Nephew reads the speeches +as reported in _The Times_. Last Thursday he was in the midst of the +discussion on the Welsh Liquor-Traffic Bill, and came to this: "Mr. +LLOYD-GEORGE, whose opening remarks were interrupted by a Count----" +Whereupon his Aunt exclaimed, "How very rude! What was the Count's +name? And how does a Count come to be in the House of Commons?" + + * * * * * + +PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL. + +(_Translated from the Original Norwegian by Mr. Punch._) + +THIRD ACT. + + _On the right, a smart verandah, attached to_ Dr. HERDAL'S + _dwelling-house, and communicating with the Drawing-room and + Dispensary by glass-doors. On the left a tumble-down rockery, + with a headless plaster Mercury. In front, a lawn, with a + large silvered glass globe on a stand. Chairs and tables. All + the furniture is of galvanised iron. A sunset is seen going on + among the trees._ + +_Dr. Herdal_ (_comes out of Dispensary-door cautiously, and +whispers_). HILDA, are you in there? + + [_Taps with fingers on Drawing-room door._ + +_Hilda_ (_comes out with a half-teasing smile_). Well--and how is the +Rainbow-powder getting on, Dr. HERDAL? + +_Dr. Herd._ (_with enthusiasm_). It is getting on simply splendidly. +I sent the new Assistant out to take a little walk, so that he +should not be in the way. There is Arsenic in the powder, HILDA, and +Digitalis too, and Strychnine, and the best Beetle-killer! + +_Hilda_ (_with happy, wondering eyes_). _Lots_ of Beetle-killer? And +you will give some of it to _her_, to make her free and buoyant. I +think one really _has_ the right--when people happen to stand in the +way----! + +_Dr. Herd._ Yes, you may well say so, HILDA. Still--(_dubiously_)--it +_does_ occur to me that such doings may perhaps be misunderstood--by +the narrow-minded and conventional. + + [_They go on the lawn, and sit down._ + +_Hilda_ (_with an outburst_). Oh, that all seems to me so foolish--so +irrelevant! As if the whole thing wasn't intended as an Allegory! + +_Dr. Herd._ (_relieved_). Ah, so long as it is merely _allegorical_ of +course---- But what is it an allegory _of_, HILDA? + +_Hilda_ (_reflects in vain_). How can you sit there and ask such +questions? I suppose I am a symbol, of some sort. + +_Dr. Herd._ (_as a thought flashes upon him_). A cymbal? That would +certainly account for your bra---- Then am _I_ a cymbal too, HILDA? + +_Hilda._ Why yes--what else? You represent the Artist-worker, or +the Elder Generation, or the Pursuit of the Ideal, or a Bilious +Conscience--or something or other. _You_'re all right! + +_Dr. Herd._ (_shakes his head_). Am I? But I don't quite see---- Well, +well, cymbals are meant to clash a little. And I see plainly now that +I ought to prescribe this powder for as many as possible. Isn't it +terrible, HILDA, that so many poor souls never really die their +own deaths--pass out of the world without even the formality of an +inquest? As the district Coroner, I feel strongly on the subject. + +_Hilda._ And, when the Coroner has finished sitting on all the bodies, +perhaps--but I shan't tell you now. (_Speaks as if to a child._) +There, run away and finish making the Rainbow-powder, do! + +_Dr. Herd._ (_skips up into the Dispensary_). I will--I will! Oh, I do +feel such a troll--such a light-haired, light-headed old devil! + +_Ruebub_ (_enters garden-gate_). I have had my dismissal--but I'm not +going without saying good-bye to Mrs. HERDAL. + +_Hilda._ Dr. HERDAL would disapprove--you really must not, Mr. +KALOMEL. And, besides, Mrs. HERDAL is not at home. She is in the town +buying me a reel of cotton. _Dr._ HERDAL is in. He is making real +Rainbow powders for regenerating everybody all round. Won't _that_ be +fun? + +_Ruebub._ _Making_ powders? Ha! ha! But you will see he won't _take_ +one himself. It is quite notorious to us younger men that he simply +daren't do it. + +[Illustration: "My--_my_ Pill-Doctor!"] + +_Hilda._ (_with a little snort of contempt_). Oh, I daresay--that's so +likely! (_Defiantly._) I know he _can_, though. I've _seen_ him! + +_Ruebub._ There is a tradition that he once--but not now--he knows +better. I think you said Mrs. HERDAL was in the town? I will go and +look for her. I understand her so well. [_Goes out by gate._ + +_Hilda_ (_calls_). Dr. HERDAL! Come out this minute. I want +you--awfully! + +_Dr. Herd._ (_puts his head out_). Just when I am making such +wonderful progress with the powder! (_Comes down and leans on a +table._) Have you hit upon some way of giving it to ALINE? I thought +if you were to put it in her arrowroot----? + +_Hilda._ No, thanks. I won't have that now. I have just recollected +that it is a rule of mine never to injure anybody I have once been +formally introduced to. Strangers don't count. No, poor Mrs. HERDAL +mustn't take that powder! + +_Dr. Herd._ (_disappointed_). Then is nothing to come of making +Rainbow powders, after all, HILDA? + +_Hilda_ (_looks hard at him_). People say you are afraid to take your +own physic. Is that true? + +_Dr. Herd._ Yes, I am. (_After a pause--with candour._) I find it +invariably disagrees with me. + +_Hilda_ (_with a half-dubious smile_). I think I can understand +_that_. But you did _once_. You swallowed your own pills that day at +the _table d'hote_, ten years ago. And I heard a harp in the air, too! + +_Dr. Herd._ (_open-mouthed_). I don't think that _could_ have been Me. +I don't play any instrument. And that was quite a special thing, too. +It's not every day I can do it. Those were only _bread_ pills, HILDA. + +_Hilda_ (_with flashing eyes_). But you rolled them; you took them. +And I want to see you stand once more free and high and great, +swallowing your own preparations. (_Passionately._) I _will_ have you +do it! (_Imploringly._) Just _once_ more, Dr. HERDAL! + +_Dr. Herd._ If I did, HILDA, my medical knowledge, slight as it is, +leads me to the conclusion that I should in all probability burst. + +_Hilda_ (_looks deeply into his eyes_). So long as you burst +_beautifully_! But no doubt that Miss BLAKDRAF---- + +_Dr. Herd._ You must believe in me utterly and entirely. I will +do anything--_anything_, HILDA, to provide you with agreeable +entertainment. I _will_ swallow my own powder! (_To himself, as he +goes gravely up to Dispensary._) If only the drugs are sufficiently +adulterated! + + [_Goes in; as he does so, the_ New Assistant _enters the + garden in blue spectacles, unseen by_ HILDA, _and follows him, + leaving open the glass-door._ + +_Senna Blakdraf_ (_comes wildly out of Drawing-room_). Where is dear +Dr. HERDAL? Oh, Miss WANGEL, he has discharged me--but I can't--I +simply _can't_ live away from that lovely ledger! + +_Hilda_ (_jubilantly_). At this moment Dr. HERDAL is in the +Dispensary, taking one of his own powders. + +_Senna_ (_despairingly_). But--but it is utterly impossible! Miss +WANGEL, you have such a firm hold of him--_don't_ let him do that! + +_Hilda._ I have already done all I can. + + [RUeBUB _appears, talking confidentially with Mrs._ HERDAL, _at + gate._ + +_Senna._ Oh, Mrs. HERDAL, RUeBUB! The Pill-Doctor is going to take one +of his own preparations. Save him--quick! + +_Ruebub_ (_with cold politeness_). I am sorry to hear it--for his sake. +But it would be quite contrary to professional etiquette to prevent +him. + +_Mrs. Herd._ And I never interfere with my husband's proceedings. I +know _my_ duty, Miss BLAKDRAF, if _others_ don't! + +_Hilda_ (_exulting with great intensity_). At last! Now I see him +in there, great and free again, mixing the powder in a spoon--with +jam!.... Now he raises the spoon. Higher--higher still! (_A gulp +is audible from within._) There, didn't you hear a harp in the air? +(_Quietly._) I can't see the spoon any more. But there is one he is +striving with, in blue spectacles! + +_The New Assistant's Voice_ (_within_). The Pill-Doctor HERDAL has +taken his own powder! + +_Hilda_ (_as if petrified_). That voice! _Where_ have I heard it +before? No matter--he has got the powder down! (_Waves a shawl in the +air, and shrieks with wild jubilation._) It's too awfully thrilling! +My--_my_ Pill-Doctor! + +_The N. A._ (_comes out on verandah_). I am happy to inform you +that--as, to avoid accidents, I took the simple precaution of filling +all the Dispensary-jars with Camphorated Chalk--no serious results +may be anticipated from Dr. HERDAL'S rashness. (_Removes spectacles._) +NORA, don't you know me? + +_Hilda_ (_reflects_). I really don't remember having the +pleasure----And I'm _sure_ I heard a harp in the air! + +_Mrs. Herd._ I fancy, Miss WANGEL, it must have been merely a bee in +your bonnet! + +_The N. A._ (_tenderly_). Still the same little singing-bird! Oh, +NORA, my long-lost lark! + +_Hilda_ (_sulky_). I'm _not_ a lark--I'm a Bird of Prey--and, when I +get my claws into anything----! + +_The N. A._ Macaroons, for instance? I remember your tastes of old. +See, NORA! (_Produces a paper-bag from his coat-tail pocket._) They +were fresh this morning! + +_Hilda_ (_wavering_). If you insist on calling me NORA, I think you +must be just a little mad yourself. + +_The N. A._ We are all a little mad--in Norway. But TORVALD HELMER is +sane enough still to recognise his own little squirrel again! +Surely, NORA, your education is complete at last--you have gained the +experience you needed? + +_Hilda_ (_nods slowly_). Yes, TORVALD, you're right enough _there_. I +have thought things out for myself, and have got clear about them. And +I have quite made up my mind that Society and the Law are all wrong, +and that I am right. + +_Helmer_ (_overjoyed_). Then you _have_ learnt the Great Lesson, and +are fit to undertake the charge of your children's education at last! +You've no notion how they've grown! Yes, NORA, our marriage will be a +true marriage now. You will come back to the Doll's-House, won't you? + +_Hilda-Nora-Helmer-Wangel_ (_hesitates_). Will you let me forge +cheques if I do, TORVALD? + +_Helmer_ (_ardently_). All day. And at night, NORA, we will falsify +the accounts--together! + +_H. N. H. W._ (_throws herself into his arms, and helps herself to +macaroons_). That will be fearfully thrilling! My--_my_ Manager! + +_Dr. Herd._ (_comes out, very pale, from Dispensary_). HILDA, I _did_ +take the----I'm afraid I interrupt you? + +_Helmer._ Not in the least. But this lady is my little lark, and she +is going back to her cage by the next steamer. + +_Dr. Herd._ (_bitterly_). Am I _never_ to have a gleam of happiness--? +But stay--do I see my little SENNA once more? + +_Ruebub._ Pardon me--_my_ little SENNA. She always believed so firmly +in my pill! + +_Dr. Herd._ Well--well. If it must be. RUeBUB, I will take you into +partnership, and we will take out a patent for that pill, jointly. +ALINE, my poor dear ALINE, let us try once more if we cannot bring a +ray of brightness into our cheerless home! + +_Mrs. Herd._ Oh, HAUSTUS, if only we _could_--but why do you propose +that to me--_now_? + +_Dr. Herd._ (_softly--to himself_). Because I have tried being +a troll--and found that nothing came of it, and it wasn't worth +sixpence! + + [HILDA-NORA _goes off to the right with_ HELMER; SENNA _to the + left with_ RUeBUB; Dr. HERDAL _and_ Mrs. HERDAL _sit on two + of the galvanised iron-chairs, and shake their heads + disconsolately as the Curtain falls._ + +THE END. + + * * * * * + +OMNIS CELLULA A CELLULA. + +(_Professor Virchow--vide Daily Paper._) + + Life's a cell and all things show it. + I thought so once, and now I know it. + +_Gay_ (_up to date_). + + * * * * * + +A RADICAL RIDDLE. + +Why are the Tories so eager to discuss Black-edged Envelopes, and +Black-lead Pencils?--Because they belong to a Stationary Party. + + * * * * * + +POLITICS AND TRADE. + +(_A Poser for "Patriots."_) + + ["Our Trade is our Politics." Motto of the Licensed + Victualler, as publicly avowed at a recent "great Meeting."] + +[Illustration] + + DEAR Bung, that frank but huckster-like avowal + Is made continually, behind the bar. + It _means_--though rather "laid on with a trowel"-- + A Trade with Public Spirit quite at jar. + The "mercenary politician," making + A pocket-business of a patriot's task, + Recently put your Press in a great taking; + But sordid selfishness here doffs all mask! + Which with a patriot's conscience plays most tricks? + Which most the venal virus has betrayed,-- + The man who makes his Trade his Politics, + Or he who makes his Politics his Trade? + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +_BURDETT'S Official Intelligence for_ 1893 is just out, a promising +young thing in its twelfth year. It is a little early to talk of the +holidays, but my Baronite, regarding this thin Vol. of 1783 pages, +says he cannot help thinking with what pleasure the City merchant, +or his clerk, hastening to the seaside, will pack it up with his +collar-box. Every year the monumental work increases in value, by +reason of accumulated information. To the tired City man, scaling some +Alp, gliding in well-found yacht over silver seas, or prone in bosky +dell, there can be nothing more soothing or delightful than to take +his "BURDETT" out of his waistcoat-pocket, and read it through from +first page to last. + +For _The Tragedy of Ida Noble_ the Baron tenders his grateful +thanks to W. CLARK RUSSELL. It starts well, and the excitement is +artistically sustained. At the close of every chapter _Oliver_, +the reader, is perpetually "asking for more." A capital story of +adventure, where all, including the reader, are "quite at sea" until +the very last chapter. On nearing the middle of the book, the question +will occur to everyone experienced in such matters, "Does the hero +marry the heroine?" Now this, being a lady's secret, will not be +revealed by THE BARON DE B.-W. + + * * * * * + +The Plea of the Party Man. + +(_On either side._) + + "THERE'S _no_ Obstruction!"--Why, then, all this ruction? + "When _we_ obstruct, who dares to call't Obstruction?" + To dam a deluge, stop a bolting horse,-- + That is obstruction, of a sort, of course; + _Our_ sort, in fact! But theirs on t'other side? + That's quite another matter. They can't hide + The cloven foot of malice, the false faitours! + Not obstruct _them_? As well say not hang traitors! + +[Illustration: Obstruction.] + + * * * * * + +FAR TOO PREVIOUS. + +In the Agony-Column of the _Times_ we now see daily the following +Advertisement:-- + +TO IRISH LOYALISTS AND PROTESTANTS.--DEATH BEFORE SLAVERY! + +Surely a most blameless sentiment. But the bearings of it lie in the +application. And what is that? It seems as applicable to any existing +situation as, say, "Lunch before Dinner," or "Business before +Pleasure," or "Age before Honesty," or "Fingers before forks." _Mr. +Punch_ ventures to suggest a modification, less striking, perhaps, +in an "Agony-Column," but more in accord with patriotism and +common-sense:-- + + To Irish Loyalists and Protestants! + _Be_ Loyal, and Protest--_Constitutionally_! + +The flamboyant, melodramatic, "Death before Slavery!" _may_ +be applicable--when "Slavery" becomes a conceivable, proximate +probability, or "Death" a possible alternative. Then let us have +"Death before Slavery," by all means. At present, _Punch_ would say, +"Common-sense before either!" + + * * * * * + +Poor Political Economy! + +(_By an elated Parliamentary Want-to-Knower._) + + Oh! to waste half the time asking Questions is grand! + "Supply" is not in it, just now, with "Demand"! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: INSTINCTIVE CRITICAL ACUMEN. + +"THAT LOOKS LIKE AN OLD PICTURE, JOHN! WHAT IS IT?" + +"IT'S 'MOSES STRIKING THE ROCK'!" + +"AH! I TOLD YOU IT WAS OLD--_DIDN'T_ I, NOW!"] + + * * * * * + +"ALL A-BLOWING!" + +AIR--_The celebrated Duet in "The Mikado."_ + +_Much-sold Pater and Mater sing:--_ + + _Pater._ The flowers that bloom in the Spring, + Tra la, + To purchase henceforth I decline. + The hawkers those blossoms who bring-- + Ah! bah!-- + Will "swop 'em for most anything," + Ha! ha! + But as soon as you've bought 'em they pine. + + _Both._ And that's what they mean when they say, or they sing, + "He's as green as a man who buys flowers in the Spring," + Tra la la la la la, &c. + + _Mater._ The flowers that bloom in the Spring, + Tra la! + Are a sell, my dear hub, in _our_ case. + I bought _this_ with a "suit"--there's the sting, + Pa-pa! + Which _he_ said was "a worn-hout hold thing," + (O-la!) + Just fancy his having the face! + Now 'tis shrunken, and shrivelled, and that's why I sing, + Oh, bother the flowers that bloom in the Spring! + Tra la la la la la, &c. + + _Both_ (_to Servant_). So tell the next rascal who ventures to ring, + _We_'ll buy no more flowers that bloom in the Spring! + + [_Dance, and exeunt, determined never again to be diddled by + the howling "A-a-blowing and a-growing!" impostors, who, at + this season, hawk heat-forced or illrooted pot-plants about + the streets of the suburbs._ + + * * * * * + +HOW IT WOULD LOOK IN ENGLISH. + +(_An adaptation from the French._) + +_Anyone._ Let us accuse the Ministry of misappropriating +twopence-halfpenny. + +_The Entire Press._ Certainly, why not? + +_The Opposition._ The Ministry are thieves. + +_The Government._ After this insult we resign _en masse_. + +_One of the Public._ It is said that Mr. BRIEFLESS JUNIOR has accused +the First Lord of having stolen the Horse-Guards clock. + +_First Lord._ Please, LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, request Mr. BRIEFLESS JUNIOR +to keep a civil tongue in his head. + +_L. C. J._ The Attorney-General is the proper person to offer a +remonstrance. + +_Sir Charles._ Can't undertake rows since I have restricted my private +practice. + +_Ex-Chancellor of the Exchequer._ I accuse the LORD CHANCELLOR. + +_Lord Chancellor._ Why, and of what? + +_Those Concerned._ Never mind that. What does it matter _who's_ +accused, so long as everybody forgets _us_. + +_Someone._ And now everything's completely mixed, does anyone know +what the row's about? + +_Everybody Else_ (_after a short silence_). Don't know, and don't +care! + + * * * * * + +"PUTTING OFF." + +_Old Aquatic Hand, loquitur:--_ + + LOOK here, bonny boys! As we're launching our ship, + And stringing our energies up for the tussle, + Allow your old Stroke to suggest the straight tip! + This is not a mere matter of Milo-like muscle. + You are all looking fit, we've the pull in the weights-- + Not _much_, to be sure, forty pounds, say, or thereabout. + Still, that much should tell 'gainst the smartest of eights; + It should give us the race, which is all that we care about. + + 'Twill be a close fight, bet your boots about that, + _If_ we get a clear course without serious obstruction, + Of which I'm not sanguine; the practice of PAT + Has proved to possess universal seduction. + Our last spin was muffed; never mind whose the fault; + Let bygones be bygones! But now comes the crisis! + It's now win or lose. Every man worth his salt + Will pull like a Titan from Cam or from Isis. + + But--pull clean together, and put on the pace + When I call for a spurt, or we're in for a licking. + And, Cox, don't _you_ steer us all over the place. + In the fight that's before us, the course requires picking! + So keep at attention, MAC, sharp all the way; + A split-second's slackness may set our foes grinning. + _Verb. sap.!_ Our last "spin" proved a "mull," I must say; + We _must_ quicken the pace, if this bout we mean winning! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "PUTTING OFF." + +GLADSTONE (_the Old Blue_). "NOW, MY BOYS,--WE MUST ROW A QUICKER +STROKE IF WE'RE TO WIN!"] + + * * * * * + +MIXED NOTIONS. + +No. VIII.--THE BOAT-RACE. + + +_Inquirer._ Are any of you chaps going to the Boat-Race? + +_First Well-Informed Man._ No, I shan't. Everybody knows which is +going to win, so there's deuced little interest in the race; and then +you can always read it on the tape at your Club. Besides, I don't care +much about rowing. It's a silly sort of exercise; anybody can do it. + +_Second W. I. M._ Have you ever tried? + +_First W. I. M._ (_indignantly_). Have I ever tried? Of course I have. +Why, you were with me last Summer when we had that water-party from +Taplow to Cookham. + +[Illustration] + +_Second W. I. M._ Ah! but you didn't do much rowing then. You let me +get all the blisters, and you just sat in the stern and steered us +like a blessed corkscrew. + +_First W. I. M._ Did I? I didn't remember that; but I do remember you +catching about half-a-dozen crabs one after another. + +_Second W. I. M._ True enough I caught one, but that was because you +would keep standing up in the boat, and moving your body backwards +and forwards. I suppose you thought the coxswains do that in their +racing-boats? + +_First W. I. M._ (_boldly_). They do. I've seen 'em doing it often. + +_Second W. I. M._ Why, I thought you'd never seen the crews at all. + +_First W. I. M._ Bosh! I never said anything of the kind. I'm not +going to see the race this year, but I've often seen 'em practising +down at Putney. Everybody knows the coxswains have to stand up. How do +you suppose they could see to steer if they didn't? So where are you +now, with all your accurate information, eh? + +_Second W. I. M._ I'm where I was before, and I know I'm right, +because my brother-in-law had a cousin who was at school with one of +the Coxes about ten years ago. [_A pause._ + +_Inquirer_ (_looking up from his sporting paper_). I say, I thought +the crews rowed in racing-boats. + +_First W. I. M._ So they do. + +_Inquirer._ Well, then, what does this mean? (_Reads._) "Both +yesterday and to-day Cambridge rowed with a bucket. They must improve +this if they want to win." + +_First W. I. M._ (_smiling_). My dear fellow, they call their big +practising-boat a bucket. + +_Second W. I. M._ No, they don't--they call it a tub. + +_First W. I. M._ Well, tub or bucket, it's the same thing. (_To_ +Inquirer.) What you read just now means that their practising-boat has +gone rotten, and they'll have to mend her up a bit. + +_Inquirer_ (_dubiously_). But they don't row the race in a tub or a +bucket, do they? + +_Second W. I. M._ No, they row in a Clinker-Clasper. + +_Inquirer._ What the deuce is that? + +_Second W. I. M._ (_plunging_). Oh, it's a specially fast kind +of racing-boat, built by CLINKER AND CLASPER. They're a firm of +boat-builders--I thought everybody knew that. + +_Inquirer._ But then, what does this paper mean by saying that Oxford +are rowing in a Rough? + +_Second W. I. M._ Why it means that their boat isn't so smooth as that +of Cambridge. + +_Inquirer_ (_puzzled_). But then it goes on to say that "She is as +fine a specimen of a racing-craft as this eminent boat-builder has +ever turned out." How can she be that, if she isn't as smooth as the +Cambridge boat? Besides, who's "this eminent boat-builder?" + +_Average Man._ ROUGH. + +_Second W. I. M._ Rot! + +_Average Man._ ROUGH, not Rot. ROUGH'S his name. + +_Second W. I. M._ Let me see the paper. (_He reads, and addresses the_ +Inquirer.) Why didn't you say the word was printed with a capital R? +(_To_ Average Man.) Perhaps you're right, after all; but I know some +boats _are_ rougher than others. [_A pause._ + +_Inquirer._ What's the difference between First Trinity and Third +Trinity? Three of the Cambridge men are from First Trinity, and two +from Third Trinity, besides the Cox. + +_First W. I. M._ What's your difficulty? First is first, and Third's +third, all the world over. Don't you see, the First Trinity men come +first in the crew, and then the Third Trinity men. + +_Inquirer._ But why don't some of 'em call themselves Second Trinity +men? + +_First W. I. M._ Oh, that's one of their silly bits of College +etiquette. These chaps at the Universities are never happy unless they +do things quite differently from all the rest of the world. + +_Inquirer._ This beastly paper says, "the Cambridge stroke rowed much +longer to-day." + +_First W. I. M._ Well, what then? + +_Inquirer._ Oh! nothing; only I thought they all rowed exactly the +same distance when they're practising; so I don't quite see how any of +'em could have rowed longer than the rest. + +_First W. I. M._ I daresay they made him row a good bit by himself; +they often do that to give the stroke some extra practice. He wants it +more than any of the rest. + +_Second W. I. M._ Why? + +_First W. I. M._ Oh, ah--well, because he's got to set the stroke for +the others, or something of that sort. + +_Inquirer._ How far do they row in the race? + +_Second W. I. M._ About six miles or so. + +_Inquirer._ By Jove, then, how on earth do they manage to get over +all that distance with so few strokes. (_Refers to paper._) It says, +"Oxford rowed 37 all the way, while Cambridge contented themselves +with a well-pulled 35." (_With a happy inspiration._) If Cambridge +can do it in 35 strokes, while Oxford take 37, it looks jolly like +Cambridge winning by two strokes, don't it? + +_First W. I. M._ All right; I'll lay you the odds on Oxford. + +_Second W. I. M._ Good, I'll take 'em to five pounds. Oxford can't +win. + +_First W. I. M._ (_confidently_). Cambridge can't win. Anyway, I'll +lay you ten pounds to five. + +_Inquirer._ I should like to have a bet with somebody. + +_Average Man._ You'd better write to one of the Presidents of the +University-Boat Clubs. They're always ready to oblige a keen fellow +like you with a bet. + +_Inquirer._ Of course. That's my best plan. I'll write to-day. + + [_Terminus._ + + + * * * * * + +UPON TERMS. + +(_A Forensic Drama of the Future._) + + [In a recent trial, Mr. Justice HAWKINS corrected a learned + Counsel who talked about Witnesses "coming up to the + scratch."] + +_The Judge_ (_taking his seat_). I think, Mr. SMALLFEE, that you were +examining a Witness when we adjourned yesterday. Are you ready to go +on with the examination? + +_Mr. Smallfee_ (_pleasantly_). I am sorry to say that Witness has not +turned up yet, m'Lud! + +_The Judge_ (_pained_). Not _what_? + +_Mr. Smallfee._ I beg your Lordship's pardon. Of course what I _meant_ +was that the Witness has not, as yet, condescended to irradiate the +precincts of this tribunal with the sunshine of his presence. + +_The Judge._ _That's_ better! Then we must go on to the next Witness. + +_Mr. Smallfee_ (_with an evident attempt to keep up his spirits, in +spite of misfortune_). The next Witness, also, I regret to say, has +not turned----I mean, has failed to appear. The Solicitor informs me +that he solemnly promised to attend; but I suppose the promise was all +my eye. + +_The Judge._ Dear, dear! What extraordinary expressions you do use, +Mr. SMALLFEE! All my eye! Perhaps you will kindly interpret the +phrase, for the benefit of the Court. + +_Mr. Smallfee_ (_desperately_). As your Lordship pleases! But, as I +feel rather down in the mouth now, and as the twelve sufferers in +the Jury-box evidently think that this trial has lasted long enough +already, and that we ought to stir our stumps, I would suggest---- + +_The Judge._ Usher! Step across to Booksellers' Row, and buy me a +Slang Dictionary! I cannot--I really _cannot_ follow the learned +Counsel. + +_The Foreman_ (_interposing_). _We_ do not object to colloquial +expressions, my Lord. Y' see, we're a _Common_ Jury, and we rather +like them. All we want to do is to get on with the case. And perhaps +it may assist the Court if at this stage I remark that the Jury has +quite made up its mind, and is ready to give its verdict. + +_The Judge_ (_astounded_). But--but--there has been no evidence for +the defence! + +_The Foreman_ (_calmly_). No, my Lord. But no doubt the learned +Counsel's two Witnesses, had they been present, would have supplied +some; and, anyhow, we are so pleased with his talking down to our +level, and not--as usual--over our heads, that we are all agreed to +find a verdict for his client, the Defendant. + +_Mr. Smallfee_ (_bowing_). Thanks for your good opinion, Gentlemen. I +thought, by the cut of your jibs, you were the right sort. + + [_Winks, in passing out._ + +_The Judge._ And this is what the Law has come to! Call on the next +case! + + * * * * * + +NEW PROVERB (_for the use of the Panama Cheque-takers_).--"The game is +not worth the Scandal." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: DISCRETION. + +"AND HERE'S AN EXTRA SIXPENCE FOR YOU, CABMAN--TO GET YOURSELF SOME +_TEA_, YOU KNOW!" + +"YES, MA'AM! THANK YER, MA'AM! I S'POSE I MAY CHOOSE MY OWN _GROCER_, +MA'AM?"] + + * * * * * + +WILL WATERPROOF'S MONOLOGUE. + +_Adapted to a Direct-Vetoed Parish._ + + O pale Head-Waiter at "The Cock," + How changed for you and me + Is this sad time! 'Tis five o'clock, + Go, fetch a cup of tea; + My pint of port is changed to that-- + Weak COWPER'S washy liquor! + Did tea make Cellarer SIMON fat, + Or cheer Bray's jolly Vicar? + + No more libations to the Muse! + Will cocoa make her kind? + Will water whisper words to use? + Will milk make up my mind, + When writing melancholy rhymes, + Of days not half forgotten, + Before these daft teetotal times + When common-sense seems rotten? + + Head-Waiter, those good pints of port + Are stopped for you and me, + By legislation of the sort + They call grandmotherly; + Two-thirds majority has said + That alcohol would hurt you, + And so you meekly bow your head, + And practise painful virtue. + + We fret, we fume, we scoff, we sneer, + And evil fate upbraid; + Your care is for the ginger-beer, + The milk, the lemonade. + To come and go, and come again + With coffee that you keep hot, + And watched by silent gentlemen, + That trifle with the tea-pot. + + Live long, for water to the head + Was never known to fly, + Your flabby face will not grow red, + Nor will your washy eye. + Live long as you can bear these woes, + Whilst bigots thus defy sense, + Till watery Death's last Veto shows + Life's quite suspended licence. + + "Aquarius," when you shall cease + Teetotal drinks to quaff, + And end life's not repairing lease, + Might be your epitaph. + No carved cross-pipes, no pint-pot's wreath, + Shall show you past to Heaven; + But water-pipes, and, underneath, + A milk-pot neatly graven. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "WANTING TO KNOW;" OR, THE BEWILDERED USHER.] + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. + +_House of Commons, Monday Night, March 13._--No use disguising fact +that when House discovered FREDERICK MILNER standing behind Front +Opposition Bench, brandishing heavy boot in his hand as he addressed +ASQUITH, it held its breath. Political passion runs pretty high +of late; Opposition stirred to deepest depths by persistence of +Government in attempting to read Home-Rule Bill Second Time before +Easter. There have been sittings after midnight; sittings through +Saturday; hot words bandied about; preparation for deadly duel in +lobby. No one can say whither men may be led when once they permit +angry passions to rise. CHARLES RUSSELL, whose acquaintance with +criminal classes is extensive, tells me it is by no means uncommon +thing for prisoner in dock to take off boot and hurl it at head of +presiding Magistrate or Judge. + +"Usually an old woman who does it," he added. + +"But this is Sir FREDERICK MILNER, Bart.," I said. + +"Um!" said RUSSELL, with odd significance in the observation. + +Turns out the apprehension groundless. MILNER only wants to know +why Police at Leeds and Bradford should enjoy ultimate resources of +civilisation in respect of "SCAITH'S silent boots," whilst London +Policemen not so privileged? MILNER tells me his earliest idea was +to get a pair of the boots, put 'em on, and surprise SPEAKER by +approaching with noiseless tread from behind Chair, lean over his +shoulder, and suddenly say, "Boo!" That, MILNER thought, would be +conclusive proof of the efficacy of the boots as making the tread +inaudible. On other hand, SPEAKER mightn't like it. So, by way of +compromise, brought down odd boot in tail-pocket of his coat, and +shook it at HOME SECRETARY when he put question. + +ASQUITH behaved very well under trying circumstances. Did not visibly +blench; answered, in off-hand manner, that London Police had had +opportunity of substituting the silent boot for those in ordinary use, +and had not availed themselves of it. Some had objected on domestic +grounds. Female friends engaged in responsible posts in certain +households on their beat were accustomed to the sound of their +footfall on the pavement, and would not have things ready if they +approached like rose-leaves flitting over shaven lawns. Others, +assuming higher ground, resented silent boot as taking unfair +advantage of the burglar or footpad. "Give a 'ardworking cove a fair +chanst, that's my motter," one honest fellow in blue said to HOME +SECRETARY when Right Hon. Gentleman brought silent boot under his +notice. No use attempting to run counter to feeling of this kind. +Conclusion in which DICKY TEMPLE heartily concurred. + +"Silent boot," he said, "forced upon Metropolitan Police might play in +history a part analogous to that of the greased cartridges on which we +slipped into the Indian Mutiny." + +MILNER saw it was evidently no use, so returning boot to coat-tail +pocket, moodily regarded Treasury Bench. + +But there were consolations. SQUIRE of MALWOOD, asked by Prince ARTHUR +what he now thought of prospects of reading Home-Rule Bill Second +Time before Easter, admitted impossibility; triumphant shout from +Opposition. Not in vain had they sat through morning sitting on Friday +discussing the hour at which they should adjourn on Saturday. Not +without recompense had they taken care that when Saturday came it +should see accomplished the minimum of business. Tussling with Mr. +G. ever since Session opened; in first rounds he came off best; drew +first blood; seemed likely to carry everything with him; Opposition +pulled themselves together; went at it hammer and tongs; and now it is +Mr. G. who has retired to corner; the sponge is in requisition on +the Treasury Bench; the air around it redolent of the perfume of the +indispensable vinegar. + +"Guinness will go up a point or two on this," said ELLIS ASHMEAD +BARTLETT, Knight, who has taken Irish securities under his wing. +"Go down a pint or two, you mean," said WILFRID LAWSON, who is +irreclaimable. + +_Business done._--Attack on Justice MATHEW and Evicted Tenants' +Commission repulsed by 287 Votes against 250. + +_Tuesday._--SQUIRE of MALWOOD a changed man. No longer the +light-hearted, sometimes almost frivolous youth who through six years +sat on Front Opposition Bench, and girded at the Unionist Government. +A Minister himself now; Mr. G.'s right-hand man; First Lieutenant of +the Ship of State; acting Captain when, as happens just now, Mr. G. +temporarily turned in. Once this afternoon something of old spirit +stirred within him when HOWARD VINCENT (as he said) used the +Stationary Vote as a peg on which to hang Protection heresies. But, +for most part, he sits silent and self-communing, saying nothing, but, +probably, like the parrot of old, thinking the more. In Conservative +ranks feeling of profound respect growing in his favour. Curious to +hear them say, "Ah! if everyone on Treasury Bench bore himself like +HARCOURT, things would be different." Even the blameless BRYCE is held +up to contumely in contrast with mild-mannered MASTER of MALWOOD. As +for CHARLES RUSSELL, after his speech last night, good Conservatives, +following an Eastern custom, well enough in its place, spit when they +mention his name. For them the model of all Parliamentary virtue is +the SQUIRE of MALWOOD. + +Don't know how long this passion of appreciation will last; +interesting to observe while yet with us. A lull all round in sympathy +with soothing moments of CHANCELLOR of EXCHEQUER. Even J. W. +LOWTHER'S perturbed mind at rest. Knows now, to a fraction, how many +lead-pencils are annually in use in directing destinies of British +Empire. Rumour current that origin of this inquiry was a little +undertaking promoted by Hon. Member in substitution of proscribed +word-guessing competitions. Sweep got up; L5 entry; every man to guess +at precise figure of lead-pencil census; the one coming nearest to +clear the pool. LOWTHER tells me not word of truth in report. In +putting his question as to number of lead-pencils in use, and in +sticking to it in spite of jeers of bystanders and guilty reticence of +Minister, he was actuated simply by motives of public policy; desired, +in short, to live up to standard of late lamented Leader and do his +duty to his QUEEN and Country. + +_Business done._--Great lead-pencil question settled. Excited House +Counted Out at 9.20. + +[Illustration: "Back!! Rasch intruder!"] + +_Thursday Night._--House dying to know what Major FREDERICK CARNE +RASCH had to say on Navy Estimates. Not being Major of Marines, +initial difficulty is to imagine what he did in this galley. If it had +been the Army, or even the Militia, the Major would have seemed all +right. But what had he to do with the Navy? That, however, is for +the Major a minor point. "You CARNE be too RASCH when attacking this +Government," said KENYON, with his pretty elliptical speech. + +It was half-past ten, and a dull night. Navy Estimates been talked +round for nearly five hours. SQUIRE of MALWOOD meekly hoped that a +Vote would now be taken; DICKY TEMPLE presented himself at footlights +with bewitching smile on his lips and elegantly bound gilt-edged +volume under his arm; bowed to audience; opened volume; proceeding to +offer few remarks when SQUIRE swooped down on him with Closure. + +This was cue for RASCH. Chairman rose to put question. So did RASCH. +Closure must not be debated; attempt to speak is unpardonable breach +of order. The Major stood in the imminent deadly breach; House +howled; Chairman cried, "Order! Order!" RASCH glared round, and, after +moment's hesitation, sat down; up again as soon as Question was put; +howls more anguished than ever. Committee having agreed that Question +be put, nothing to do but put it, and here was RASCH bubbling over +with speech. Chairman on his feet peremptorily signalling Major to +sit down; Members near him tugged at his coat-tails; those further off +frantically wave deprecatory hands. Major stood to his guns; shouts of +"Name! Name!" Chairman, desperately pegging away, succeeded in putting +Question, being money-vote for Navy. Major by this time hauled down in +his seat. Up again, like Jack out of box. Chairman also on his feet, +putting next vote; hubbub tremendous; Major's lips observed in motion; +not an articulate syllable rose above uproar. + +[Illustration: On the Stroke of Twelve; or, Cinderella Balfour!] + +Meanwhile Chairman had dexterously put and run through supplementary +vote for Excess of Expenditure; friends near him had got the +catapultic Major down again, in time to hear Chairman declare "the +Ayes have it!" Major up again. "Order! order!" shouted the Chairman. +"Question: is----" Not quite clear amid uproar what question was; +something to do with Army. Anyhow, there was STANHOPE standing at +table discussing Army Votes. Major again on his feet, his moustache +twitching with astonishment. STANHOPE a peculiarly painful +circumstance; all very well for good Conservative to gird against +Government, and jostle Mr. G.'s Chairman of Committees; different +(especially for a Major in the Militia) to struggle with Statesman +who had been Secretary of State for War on his own side. So Major, +defiantly glaring round House slowly dropped into his seat:--"dying +with all his music in him," as JUSTIN MCCARTHY, who knows the poets, +said. But what was the tune he meditated? What is the secret of this +unspoken speech? + +_Business done._--Money voted for Naval men. Halt cried on Army Vote. + +_Friday._--RASCH broken out again; turns up as usual at critical +moment. Committee of Supply adjourned at ten minutes to seven; sharp +at seven morning sitting must be suspended. Report of Supply under +consideration; only tremulous ten minutes to get through it. RASCH +resolved, now or never, to finish the speech he commenced yesterday. +House, after protest, settles down to listen. Seems KAY SHUTTLEWORTH +been "saying things" about the warrior. "He behaved towards me," +said the Major, "in a manner that would be brusque on the part of +Providence addressing a black beetle." House undecided as to which +simile more happily bestowed. On the whole, agreed more polite to +contemplate U. KAY SHUTTLEWORTH as Providence, than Major RASCH as the +other thing. + +_Business done._--Some Votes in Supply. + + * * * * * + + +[Transcriber's Note: + +Missing and illegible/damaged punctuation has been repaired.] + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +104, March 25, 1893, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON *** + +***** This file should be named 22724.txt or 22724.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/7/2/22724/ + +Produced by Lesley Halamek, Juliet Sutherland and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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