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C. (Francis Cowley) Burnand</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 104, May 6, 1893</p> +<p>Author: Various</p> +<p>Editor: F. C. (Francis Cowley) Burnand</p> +<p>Release Date: August 28, 2008 [eBook #26454]</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, VOLUME 104, MAY 6, 1893***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Lesley Halamek, Juliet Sutherland,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page205" id="page205"></a>[pg 205]</span> + +<h1>Punch, or the London Charivari</h1> + +<h2>Volume 104, May 6th 1893</h2> + +<h3><i>edited by Sir Francis Burnand</i></h3> + +<hr class="full" /> + + +<h3>A PATHETIC LAMENT.</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>Respectfully addressed to one of the Promoters of the Anti-Advertisement +League by a Repentant Subscriber.</i>)</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/205.png"><img src="images/205-300.png" width="300" height="463" alt="" /></a></div> + + +<div class="poem1a"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i16"><b>I.</b></p> +</div> </div> + +<div class="poem1a"> <div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="sc">Being</span> gifted with decent taste and a sensitive eye,</p> +<p class="i2">I have never been much beguiled</p> +<p>By advertisements, crude in colour, and ten feet high</p> +<p class="i2">(Which, in fact, I rather reviled);</p> +<p>And, as for gigantic signs swinging up in the sky—</p> +<p class="i2">They drove me perfectly wild!</p> + </div> </div> + +<div class="poem1a"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i16"><b>II.</b></p> +</div> </div> + +<div class="poem1a"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Then the lurid posters on paling and chimney-stack</p> +<p class="i2">Were the terror of every town—</p> +<p>Till a League was started by Mr. <span class="sc">William Black</span></p> +<p class="i2">For the purpose of putting them down;</p> +<p>And the sympathetic invited its efforts to back</p> +<p class="i2">With an annual half-a-crown.</p> + </div> </div> + +<div class="poem1a"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i16"><b>III.</b></p> +</div> </div> + +<div class="poem1a"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>So I cheerfully paid the fee, and my name was enrolled,</p> +<p class="i2">And a solemn oath I swore;</p> +<p>(As is usual on such occasions,—or so I'm told)</p> +<p class="i2">That, in future, no shop or store</p> +<p>Which aggressively advertised any article sold</p> +<p class="i2">I would patronise any more!</p> + </div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i16"><b>IV.</b></p> +</div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>But that mad rash oath I recall with a vain regret,</p> +<p class="i2">As I brood in bitter complaint,</p> +<p>On the number of useful things that I'm dying to get—</p> +<p class="i2">And my conscience tells me I mayn't!</p> +<p>As their various virtues are vaunted in letters of jet,</p> +<p class="i2">Or gaudier gilding and paint!</p> + </div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i16"><b>V.</b></p> +</div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>I should like to be clean if I could—but I cannot cope,</p> +<p class="i2">Without saponaceous aid,</p> +<p>With a shower of London smuts—and I'm losing hope,</p> +<p class="i2">Getting daily a dingier shade,</p> +<p>In a futile search for a genuine Toilet-soap</p> +<p class="i2">That has shunned meretricious parade!</p> + </div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i16"><b>VI.</b></p> +</div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>My villa would be—when it's furnished—the cosiest nest,</p> +<p class="i2">But I fear it is doomed to be bare;</p> +<p>For upholsterers' puffs are now a persistent pest,</p> +<p class="i2">And so shamelessly each will declare</p> +<p>His "Elegant Dining and Drawing-room suites" are the "cheapest and best"—</p> +<p class="i2">That I daren't choose so much as a <i>chair</i>!</p> + </div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i16"><b>VII.</b></p> +</div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>I would fly to the Ocean shore, or the Continent,</p> +<p class="i2">To escape from a lot accurst;</p> +<p>But here, by my own parole, I'm a prisoner pent!</p> +<p class="i2">I must find a Company first</p> +<p>That doesn't resort to obtrusive advertisement—</p> +<p class="i2">And the Railway ones are the <i>worst</i>!</p> + </div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i16"><b>VIII.</b></p> +</div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>And now I'm developing symptoms of bodily ills,</p> +<p class="i2">But, however sanguine I've felt,</p> +<p>Of a cure from So-and-So's Syrup, Elixir, or Pills,</p> +<p class="i2">Or his Neuro-magnetic Belt—</p> +<p>Can I buy, when their fame is based on a stratum of bills</p> +<p class="i2">Down every area dealt?</p> + </div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i16"><b>IX.</b></p> +</div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>And even my path to a tranquil tomb is barred</p> +<p class="i2">While that oath continues to bind;</p> +<p>For a coffin and funeral car will be somewhat hard</p> +<p class="i2">For a faithful adherent to find—</p> +<p>When already each undertaker has left a card</p> +<p class="i2">With his terms and "inquiries kind"!</p> + </div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i16"><b>X.</b></p> +</div> </div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>So you see, Mr. <span class="sc">William Black</span>, what a mess I've made!</p> +<p class="i2">And you'll own my dilemmas are due</p> +<p>To the oath which I took when I followed your precious crusade.</p> +<p class="i2">If its terms were drafted by <i>you</i>,</p> +<p>You may know some ingenious means their effect to evade—</p> +<p class="i2">Kindly drop me a line if you do!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>TO BLACKHAM'S BOYS.</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>The Australian Cricketers have arrived in +England.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="sc">Welcome, John McCarthy Blackham</span>,</p> +<p>And his boys! 'Tis safe to back 'em,</p> +<p><span class="sc">Giffen, Bannerman</span>, and <span class="sc">Turner</span>,</p> +<p>To teach <span class="sc">Bull</span>—a cheerful learner!</p> +<p>Austral Cricket "up to date."</p> +<p><span class="sc">Bruce</span> and <span class="sc">Trumble</span>—rather late—</p> +<p>Owing to Lutetia's charms!</p> +<p>Soon will join their chums in arms.</p> +<p><span class="sc">Lyons</span> and <span class="sc">M'leod</span> are ready;</p> +<p>Dashing <span class="sc">George</span> and <span class="sc">Alec</span> steady,</p> +<p>And the others, prompt to pitch 'em</p> +<p>(Stumps) on the old sward at Mitcham.</p> +<p><i>Punch</i> will wish you all fair weather,</p> +<p>And fair luck! Now, all together!!!</p> +<p>May we meet 'em oft—and whack 'em</p> +<p>Fairly—these brave boys of <span class="sc">Blackham</span>!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Habeas Corpus Suspended</span>.—What is +wanted just now is a <i>"J bez Corpus" Act.</i></p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page206" id="page206"></a>[pg 206]</span> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/206.png"><img src="images/206-400.png" width="400" height="468" alt="'SCOT-FREE.'" /></a> + +<h4>"SCOT-FREE."</h4> + +<p class="center"><i>Sir Henry Hawkins</i> (<i>to Justice</i>). <span class="sc">"<i>I</i> can't touch them. +It's time <i>You</i> did!"</span> <span style="float: right">[<i>See next page.</i>]</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">An Airy Nothing.</span>—According to a Radical paper "the poor +man's tobacco pays 10½<i>d.</i> in the shilling to taxation, while the rich +man's cigar pays only ½<i>d.</i> in the shilling to taxation." This may be +very true, but is the question worth discussing? It is sure to end +in smoke!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">How they are served in Servia.</span>—Among some interesting +items, a telegram informed us how "the Young King presided +at a Council of Ministers. The ceremonial is the same as during his +father's time, only two guards stand at the door, and <i>refreshments +are handed round at short intervals</i>." The italics are ours. +Rather! What a pleasant Cabinet Council. Why isn't the convivial +plan adopted here? Mr. G., in the chair, would knock the +table with the hammer every ten minutes and call out, "Give your +orders, Gents! the Waiter's in the room!" A real Harmonious +Meeting.</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page207" id="page207"></a>[pg 207]</span> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/207.png"><img src="images/207-600.png" width="600" height="425" alt="'WITHOUT PREJUDICE.'" /></a> + +<h4>"WITHOUT PREJUDICE."</h4> + +<p><i>Miss Jeannie</i> (<i>to Elderly Spinster</i>). "<span class="sc">I'm glad Maud is going to +be Married to Sir Guy. I'm sure they'll be happy, +they're so well Matched</span>!"</p> + +<p><i>Elderly Spinster aforesaid</i> (<i>who has had her eye on Sir Guy for the +last two years</i>). "<span class="sc">I don't at all agree with you. Sir Guy +would have done far better to have chosen One of his own Height</span>!"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE FUTURE HOPED BY HAWKINS.</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>A Cockney Carol by a cruelly-used Coster-Investor. With apologies to +clever Albert Chevalier.</i>)</p> + +<blockquote><p> +["I desire to express, and I cannot do it too strongly, that there is no +credit to be attached to the conduct of the directors in this particular case. +It would be more satisfactory to me if directors had a proper sense of their +responsibility. It is a cruel thing that people should be deluded out of their +savings by high-sounding names. At the same time, there is no criminal law +which will punish a director who scandalously neglects his duty, though he +takes his money. I think the law might well be altered."—<i>Mr. Justice +Hawkins.</i>] +</p></blockquote> + +<h4><span class="sc">Air</span>.—<i>"The Future Mrs. 'Awkins."</i></h4> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>I'm <i>done</i>, my little doner! I'm jest about a goner!</p> +<p class="i6">My savings all U. P.!</p> +<p>You always said I shouldn't; but resist big names I couldn't,</p> +<p class="i6">No, they fairly nobbled me.</p> +<p>Now Mister Justice <span class="sc">'Awkins</span>, 'onest <span class="sc">'Enery Hawkins</span>,</p> +<p class="i6">Some Directors' wool does comb.</p> +<p>So 'elp me bob, I'm crazy. I <i>must</i> ha' bin a daisy!</p> +<p class="i6">Won't it bust our 'umble 'ome!</p> +<p>(<i>Spoken or sung.</i>) <i>Won't</i> it!</p> +<p class="i6"><span class="sc">O Lizer</span>! Sweet <span class="sc">Lizer</span>!</p> +<p>If I die in the Big 'Ouse, I'll only 'ave myself to blame.</p> +<p class="i6">D'y'ear, <span class="sc">Lizer</span>? <i>Dear</i> <span class="sc">Lizer</span>!</p> +<p>Fancy <i>me</i> bein' nicked by a 'igh-soundin' name!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>At their sly board-meetin's wot must be their greetin's!</p> +<p class="i6">Oh, they knows wot <i>they're</i> about!</p> +<p>The public tin they close up, at us turns their nose up—</p> +<p class="i6">Fox and Guinea-pigs—no doubt.</p> +<p>I likes their style, dear <span class="sc">Lizer</span>. Ain't it a surpriser?</p> +<p class="i6">Cop <i>me</i> on the 'op like this!!!</p> +<p>Sure, I must be dreamin'! In my sleep start screamin'.</p> +<p class="i6">There, <i>don't</i> cry, old gal! Let's kiss!</p> +<p>(<i>Spoken or sung.</i>) <i>Come</i> now!</p> +<p class="i6"><span class="sc">O Lizer</span>! Dear <span class="sc">Lizer</span>!</p> +<p>If I lose yer luv by this I'll only 'ave myself to blame!</p> +<p class="i6">D'y'ear, <span class="sc">Lizer</span>? <i>Dear</i> <span class="sc">Lizer</span>!</p> +<p>'Onest <span class="sc">'Enery 'Awkins</span> sez it's a dashed shame!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Hartful as a "bonnet," you depend upon it,</p> +<p class="i6">Mister Fox, with tail sly-curled!</p> +<p>Jest about the sweetest, neatest, and completest</p> +<p class="i6">Diddle in the wide, wide world.</p> +<p>Wot sez <span class="sc">'Enery 'Awkins</span>, 'onest <span class="sc">'Enery 'Awkins</span>?</p> +<p class="i6">Law wants alterin' right away.</p> +<p>P'raps it may be <i>one</i> day, but were it next Monday,</p> +<p class="i6">Me and you 'twould not repay!</p> +<p>(<i>Spoken or sighed.</i>) <i>Would</i> it?</p> +<p class="i6"><span class="sc">O Lizer</span>! Sweet <span class="sc">Lizer</span>!</p> +<p>Strikes me wot is called the Law is often fuss, and fraud, and fudge!</p> +<p class="i6">But <i>dear</i> <span class="sc">Lizer</span>! D'y'ear, <span class="sc">Lizer</span>?</p> +<p>Mister Justice <span class="sc">'Awkins</span> is a fust-class Judge!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p><span class="sc">Query at some Fashionable Sea-side Resort</span>.—Do the unpleasant +odours noticeable at certain times arise from the fact of +the tide being high? If so, is the tide sometimes higher than +usual, as the—ahem!—odours certainly are?</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p><span class="sc">Shakspearian Question to a Company</span>.—(<i>To be replied to in the +negative.</i>)—"What, are you <span class="sc">Hansard</span> yet?" (<i>Mer. of Venice</i>, +iv., 1.)</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p><span class="sc">Song for an Emperor after a (Friendly) Visit to Canossa</span>.—<br /> +"Be it ever so humbling, there's no place like Rome!"</p></blockquote> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page208" id="page208"></a>[pg 208]</span> + +<hr /> + +<h3>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h3> + +<h4>EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</h4> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/208.png"><img src="images/208-300.png" width="300" height="425" alt="At the Sign of the 'Budget Shop." /></a> +<h4>"At the Sign of the 'Budget Shop."</h4></div> + +<p><i>House of Commons, Monday, April 24.</i>—House nearly Counted +Out just now, although it's Budget Night and usual Resolutions not +yet passed. Catastrophe averted, and sitting continued. <span class="sc">Childers</span> +come back to old scene. Looking on from below Gallery, says it's +the quietest Budget Night he remembers. Usually scene one of +seething excitement. One or more Trades expect taxes affecting +them will either go up or go down. Lobby besieged by anxious representatives. +Nothing of the sort to-night. When <span class="sc">Squire</span> of +<span class="sc">Malwood</span> rose to expound his mystery, Benches not fuller than on +ordinary night. Of those present there was no speculation in the +eyes they turned upon the <span class="sc">Chancellor</span> standing at table. The +<span class="sc">Squire</span>, a great Parliamentary +artist, attuned voice and +manner to prevailing tone; +avoided anything approaching +oratorical style; plain business +statement to make; accomplished +it in fine head-clerkly +manner.</p> + +<p>An unfailing tradition +about Budget Speech is that +it shall contain at least one +quotation from the Classics. +Mr. G. from year to year observed +this custom with +splendid effect. <span class="sc">Lowe's</span> <i>Ex +luce lucellum</i> is famous in history; +nearly became the epitaph +of a Ministry; certainly +was the funeral wail over a +carefully-constructed Budget. +The <span class="sc">Squire</span> to-night +felt bound to observe tradition; +but in accordance with +his nature did it modestly, +adventuring nothing more +recondite than citation of the +familiar line that serves to +mark <span class="sc">Wren's</span> resting-place +in Westminster Abbey. +<span class="sc">Tommy Bowles</span> took opportunity +of remarking that he +was "disappointed with the +Budget." This mental attitude, +though not quite unexpected, +threw fresh gloom +over proceedings, and talk, +reduced to whisper, finally +died out.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Budget +brought in.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—The young men +behind <span class="sc">Prince Arthur</span> out +on the war-path. "Tell you +what," says <span class="sc">Legh</span> of Lyme; +"let's have <span class="sc">Bryce</span>'s scalp."</p> + +<p>"By the Holy Roman Empire, +yes!" cried <span class="sc">George +Curzon</span>, to whom genial observation +was addressed. "Let's +get at him about his snubbing +<span class="sc">Sefton</span>, in matter of appointment +of Lancashire County +Magistrates. 'Twill serve a +double debt to pay. We'll have +a lark—'<i>Quelles alouettes!</i>' as it is written in the French translation +of <i>Great Expectations</i>, in the passage reporting conversation +between <i>Pip</i> and <i>Joe Gargery</i>. Moreover than which, we'll put a +spoke in business arrangements of Mr. <span class="sc">G.</span>, and stave off Home Rule +by so long."</p> + +<p>"Be careful," said <span class="sc">Prince Arthur</span>; "ticklish subject, you +know. They're sure to have <span class="sc">Halsbury</span> up, and there unquestionably +was a degree of monotony about his appointments to +Commission of Peace."</p> + +<p>"Oh bother <span class="sc">Halsbury</span>," said <span class="sc">Curzon</span>, to whom nothing is sacred. +"He's used to it by this time. You know what happened to the +viper who bit the Cappadocian's hide? <span class="sc">Halsbury</span>'s all right."</p> + +<p>"Boys will be boys," said <span class="sc">Prince Arthur</span>, looking at them +regretfully, and thinking of his own forty-five years. "But +perhaps it will be just as well if I clear out;" which he did, and so +missed a lively debate.</p> + +<p>That Elderly Young Man, <span class="sc">Hanbury</span>, not in best form for such +operations. Lacks lightness of touch. <span class="sc">Henry James</span> also better +out of it. Gave performance serious turn, when he declared that in +borough of Bury <span class="sc">Bryce</span>, as soon as he came into office, appointed +eight Magistrates, all Liberals. That sounded very bad; Mr. G. +looked serious; some disposition shown on Treasury Bench to draw +apart from <span class="sc">Bryce</span>. All very well to talk about <span class="sc">Halsbury's</span> +goings +on; but if this sort of thing done by Liberal purists, things seem +rotten all round. When <span class="sc">Bryce</span> came to reply, he quietly added to +<span class="sc">James's</span> statement of case that, when he went to the Duchy, he +found of eighteen Magistrates sixteen were Unionists, only two +Liberals. He had, it is true, appointed six Liberals and two working-men, +whose politics he did not know. Bury Bench, accordingly, +now consisted of sixteen Unionists, eight Liberals, and two working-men. +Members wondered if <span class="sc">James</span> knew that when he made his +statement? Hoped he didn't. All very well with wig and gown on, +and brief in hand; but House +doesn't like this kind of +thing in debate.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Curzon's</span> statement about +sad condition of Magisterial +Bench at Southport, owing +to machinations of an iniquitous +Chancellor of the +Duchy, turned out to be not +more completely based on +fact than was <span class="sc">James's</span>. But +difference of manner in dealing +with case, everything. +No one took <span class="sc">Curzon</span> seriously, +and so no harm done. +His explanation of preponderance +of Conservative Magistrates +on Lancashire Bench +delightful. As good as some +touches of <span class="sc">Dizzy</span>, of whose +younger, lighter manner, he +much reminded old-stagers. +It was true, he admitted +that, on Lancashire Bench, +preponderance of Magistrates +was with Conservatives. +(Chancellor of Duchy gave +figures as he found them +arranged when he came into +office. On the Borough +Benches, 507 Unionists, +against 159 Liberals; on the +County Bench, 522 Unionists, +against 142 Liberals, a proportion +of nearly four to one.) +But how had it been brought +about? asked the Strayed +Reveller from the Corea. +"Why, it is because the +disturbing, mischievous policy +of the Right Hon. Gentleman +opposite" (this with +indignant sweep of the arm +towards Mr. G., feigning +sleep on the Treasury Bench) +"has driven into the opposite +ranks most of the intelligent, +respectable men, +from whom Justices are +chosen."</p> + +<p>On <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Divison'">Division</ins>, Vote of Censure +on <span class="sc">Bryce</span> negatived by +260 votes; against 186. "I'm +not sure," said <span class="sc">Jokim</span>, whose +views of humour are limited, "that, what I may call the gain of +three hours lost, is worth the price paid; to wit, the opportunity +given to <span class="sc">Bryce</span> of disclosing the actual state of things in Lancashire +in the matter of Magisterial Bench, and the consequent doubling +of the Ministerial Majority."</p> + +<p>"Well, as I remarked before," said Prince <span class="sc">Arthur</span>, who had +come back for the Division, "Boys will be boys."</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Employers' Liability Bill, with aid of Closure, +read Second Time.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday.</i>—Pretty to watch Mr. G. struggling with feeling of +expediency against temptation to make a speech. House in Committee +on Budget Bill; <span class="sc">Jokim</span> been discoursing at large on its proposals. +Quite lively. <span class="sc">Squire</span> of <span class="sc">Malwood</span> looked on, listening with +generous +approval, albeit he was target for <span class="sc">Jokim's</span> jocularity. This +time last year positions reversed. It was he criticising <span class="sc">Jokim's</span> +Budget. Now it was <span class="sc">Jokim's</span> turn, and the <span class="sc">Squire</span> magnanimously +stood the racket. Mr. G. sat by his side, an attentive listener, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page209" id="page209"></a>[pg 209]</span> +evidently strongly drawn to join in the fray. +But it was plainly the <span class="sc">Squire's</span> show, and its +direction must be left to him. When there +followed long succession of eminent men +discussing Budget, Mr. G. felt that if he +remained any longer he must yield to temptation. +Accordingly, withdrew from scene. +Returned again an hour later; still harping +on the Budget; the <span class="sc">Squire</span> had spoken twice, +and there seemed nothing to be done but to +work off whatever remaining speeches had +been prepared in Opposition camp.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Dorington</span> dragged in case of farmer, and +small landowner; conversation turned on +Depression of Agriculture; the <span class="sc">Woolwich +Infant</span> presented himself to view of sympathetic +House as specimen of what a man of +ordinarily healthy habits might be brought +to by necessity of paying Income-tax on the +gross rental of house property. A procession +of friends of the Agriculturist was closed by +portly figure of <span class="sc">Chaplin</span>, another effective +object-lesson suitable for illustration of lectures +on Agricultural Depression. Mr. G., +feeling there was no necessity for speech, +had resolutely withstood the others. <span class="sc">Chaplin</span> +at the table, proved irresistible. To him, +<span class="sc">Chaplin</span> is embodiment of the heresy of Protection, +Bi-metallism, and other emanations +of the Evil One. When <span class="sc">Chaplin</span> sat down, +<span class="sc">Premier</span> romped in, and, having delivered +the inevitable speech, went off home, soothed, +and satisfied.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Budget Scheme passed +through Committee.</p> + +<p><i>Friday.</i>—Almost forgot we still have House +of Lords. Shall be reminded of their existence +by-and-by. For the nonce, they are +courteously quiescent, the world forgetting, +by the world forgot. Just a little flare-up +to-night. Ireland, of course; <span class="sc">Camperdown</span> +wanting to know what about the Evicted +Tenants Commission? Are the Government +going to legislate upon it, or will they +forbear? <span class="sc">Selborne</span> supernaturally solemn; +dragged in <span class="sc">James the Second</span> as the nearest +approach to any head of a Government quite +so wicked as Mr. G. Lords much interested +in this. Don't hear so much now of <span class="sc">James +the Second</span> as we did when at school. The +establishment of points of resemblance between +Governments of his day and that +presided over by Mr. G., a novelty in debate. +Imparted to political controversy a freshness +long lacking.</p> + +<p>Just after seven, debate adjourned. For +all practical purposes, it might as well have +been concluded. But House doesn't get many +opportunities of debate; not disposed riotously +to squander this chance one.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Commons had Morning +Sitting; scrupulously devoted the last five +minutes of it to public business.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Operatic Note</span>,—There's not much magic +about <i>The Magic Ring</i> at the Prince of +Wales's until the Second Act, in which the +extravagantly comic "business" of Messrs. +<span class="sc">Monkhouse</span> and <span class="sc">Kaye</span>, the burlesque acting +of Miss <span class="sc">Susie Vaughan</span>, and the comic trio +dance between the two low comedians and +the sprightly soprano, Miss <span class="sc">Marie Halton</span>, +are worth the whole of Act I. When +is burlesque not burlesque? When it is +Comic Opera. Burlesque was reported dead. +Not a bit of it, only smothered; and it may +come up fresh for a long run, or at all events, +"fit" for a good spurt.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Even the old-fashionedest Toriest of Tory +Farmers are longing, hoping, and even praying, +for the downfall of the Rain. If we don't +have it soon, and it may have arrived ere this +appears, Marrowfats, as <i>articles de luxe</i>, will +be "Peas at any price!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 520px;"><a href="images/209.png"><img src="images/209-400.png" width="400" height="410" alt="MISPLACED MERRIMENT." /></a> + +<h3>MISPLACED MERRIMENT.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Irish Doctor</i> (<i>who was a great believer in a little "playful +badinage"</i>). <span class="sc">"Oh dear! oh dear! +an' what a tarrible depressin' Soight ye've gone an' made ov yersilf! What is<br /> +ut now, is ut a '<i>Tableau Vervant</i>' ye're playin' at, or what?"</span> <span style="float: right">[<i>Further attendance dispensed with.</i>]</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>PANEFUL!</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>It was the Palace of the Board,</p> +<p class="i2">The Board of London's Schooling,</p> +<p>Where Members lately have enjoyed</p> +<p class="i2">Some high artistic fooling.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"Oh, why"—hear Mr. <span class="sc">Coxhead</span> plead,</p> +<p class="i2">In tones of sheer amazement—</p> +<p>"Do hideous faces wrought in glass</p> +<p class="i2">Stare down from every casement?"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Then up spake General <span class="sc">Moberly</span>,</p> +<p class="i2">The Board's supreme apologist,</p> +<p>And told them all the time of day</p> +<p class="i2">Like any good horologist.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"The Architect," quoth he, "had planned</p> +<p class="i2">To grave upon the panes</p> +<p>Portraits of bygone Classic wights,</p> +<p class="i2">Of British youth the banes.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"But as the Chairman of the Works'</p> +<p class="i2">Committee he had said,</p> +<p>That <span class="sc">Cicero</span> should be deposed,</p> +<p class="i2">And <span class="sc">Diggle</span> reign instead.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"To oust <span class="sc">Herodotus</span> would be</p> +<p class="i2">An inexpensive job,</p> +<p>And <span class="sc">Socrates</span> should be bowled out</p> +<p class="i2">By a seductive <span class="sc">Lobb</span>."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Further, he argued that it would</p> +<p class="i2">Only be right and manly</p> +<p>If <span class="sc">Archimedes</span> did resign</p> +<p class="i2">His pane to <span class="sc">Lyulph Stanley</span>.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And out he brought his final word</p> +<p class="i2">Both modestly and soberly—</p> +<p>"I think that <span class="sc">Julius Cæsar</span> might</p> +<p class="i2">Give place to General <span class="sc">Moberly</span>!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>O Boardmen, shall the little plan</p> +<p class="i2">Be thus allowed to pass?</p> +<p>It will, unless your Veto stop</p> +<p class="i2"><i>This</i> filling of the glass!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>TO ZANTE.</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>An Appeal. After E. A. Poe.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> + +<p>"Fair Isle, that from the fairest of all flowers</p> +<p class="i2">Thy gentlest of all gentle names doth take!"</p> +<p>How many memories of fierce seismic powers</p> +<p class="i2">At sight of thee, as now thou art, awake!</p> +<p>How many scenes of what departed bliss!</p> +<p class="i2">How many thoughts of what entombed hopes!</p> +<p>Did <span class="sc">Falb</span> foresee such ruinous wreck as this?</p> +<p class="i2">No more sits Peace upon thy verdant slopes!</p> +<p><i>Subscriptions!</i> Ah, that magical sweet sound</p> +<p class="i2">Appeals to all, or <i>should</i> appeal. More! More!</p> +<p>Suffering demands still <i>more</i>! Charity's ground</p> +<p class="i2"><i>Punch</i> now must hold thy flower-enamelled shore,</p> +<p>O Hyacinthine Isle! O purple Zante!</p> +<p class="i2">"<i>Isola d'oro!</i> <i>Fior di Levante!</i>"</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">New Name for It</span>. (<i>By a non-believer +in the much-talked-of—and talking—"League.</i>"),—Imperial +<i>Fad</i>-oration!</p> + + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page210" id="page210"></a>[pg 210]</span> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/210.png"><img src="images/210-600.png" width="600" height="394" alt="A LAMENT." /></a> + +<h3>A LAMENT.</h3> + +<p><i>Little Simpkins.</i> "<span class="sc">Nearly all our Best Men are Dead! Carlyle, +Tennyson, Browning, George Eliot!——I'm not feeling +very well Myself</span>!"</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>"IN THE KEY OF RUTHENE."</h3> + + +<p class="center">[The most gorgeous red yet discovered has lately been produced from the +rare metal rüthenium.]</p> + + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Who'll sell me a second-hand lyre and a plectrum,</p> +<p class="i2">Or (since it's the fashion) a mandoline?</p> +<p><i>Con amore</i> I'd sing the new shade of the spectrum—</p> +<p class="i2">No spook, though it haunts me—its name is Ruthene.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Nay, don't be alarmed, for I'm no supersubtle</p> +<p class="i2">Decadent bard with an eye full of green;</p> +<p>I merely (to copy the late <i>Captain Cuttle</i>)</p> +<p class="i2">Am "making a note" in the key of Ruthene.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Well, <i>R</i>'s a red letter, you see its ray glow forth—</p> +<p class="i2">Look in your "dic" if you doubt what I mean;</p> +<p>Red, rufous, rouge, ruddy, rose, russet, and so forth,</p> +<p class="i2">Have all rolling <i>r</i>'s like resplendent Ruthene.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>More "clamant" than carmine, vermilion, crimson,</p> +<p class="i2">Costlier than diamond or ultramarine—</p> +<p>A deuce of a theme to chant lyrics or hymns on,</p> +<p class="i2">Or rummage for orotund "rot," is Ruthene.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Orange-hued are the Odalisque's henna-dyed fingers,</p> +<p class="i2">English girls' lips are encarnadine;</p> +<p>A rubicund flame round the toper's nose lingers—</p> +<p class="i2">But I'm blest if they rival the blush of Ruthene.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Pink huntsman, gules ensign, deep flush of the sunset,</p> +<p class="i2">Cardinal's scarlet, "red" gold have I seen,</p> +<p>With red ruin, red rhubarb, red herring—but none set</p> +<p class="i2">My iris afire as does red-hot Ruthene.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The quest, though, is simpler of Roc's egg or Sangreal,</p> +<p class="i2">Easier to fashion a flying machine,</p> +<p>Than for <i>my</i> Muse to fake up (forgive Cockney slang) real</p> +<p class="i2">Readable rhymes in praise of Ruthene.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE SCOTTISH TREVELYANDERER.</h3> + +<h4>(<i>Mr. Hozier's Version.</i>)</h4> + +<blockquote><p> +[Mr. <span class="sc">Hozier</span> (on the Second Reading of the "Registration of Votes +(Scotland) Amendment Bill") said, "the fame of Mr. <span class="sc">Gerry</span>, the Governor +of Massachusetts, would sink into insignificance if this Bill were to pass. In +future they would not talk of Gerrymandering, but of Trevelyandering.... +Trevelyandering, however, was a game at which two could play; in fact, in +the words of the poet, they might fairly say:— +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">"What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander,</p> +<p class="i6">And possibly two can Trevelyander!"]</p> + +</div></div> + + +<h4><span class="sc">Air</span>—"<i>The British Grenadiers.</i>"</h4> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Some talk of Gerrymander, and some of <span class="sc">Herchelles</span>,</p> +<p>Of <span class="sc">Halsbury</span> and Mr. <span class="sc">Bryce</span>, and such great names as these.</p> +<p>But of all the world's great jobbers (swears <span class="sc">Hozier</span>) none compare</p> +<p>With the job, job, job, job, job, job, of the "Tre-vel-yan-der-er!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="sc">Gerry</span>, of Massachusetts, was smartish, for his time,</p> +<p>But <span class="sc">Hozier</span> "goes one better," it moves his soul to rhyme.</p> +<p>Our Scottish Wegg (<i>sans</i> timber leg) drops into verse—though queer.</p> +<p>About the game—which two can play—of the "Tre-vel-yan-de-rer!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>There's Jove, the god of thunder, and Mars, the god of war,</p> +<p>Brave Neptune, with his trident, but here's a greater, far!</p> +<p><span class="sc">Hozier</span>-Apollo now is seen descending from his sphere</p> +<p>To string betimes impromptu rhymes on the "Tre-vel-yan-de-rer!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Then let us fill a bumper, and drink a health to those</p> +<p>Who, "dropping into poetry," leave lesser wits to prose,</p> +<p>And especially to <span class="sc">Hozier</span>, who raised a ringing cheer,</p> +<p>By his doggerel delightful on the "Tre-vel-yan-de-rer!"</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p><span class="sc">Mr. G. "Shadowed.</span>"—Of course even Mr. <span class="sc">G.</span> cannot be "The +Shadowless Man," except under the terms of that weird story, +"which is impossible." The Police have arrived at one important +point about the recently arrested <span class="sc">Townsend</span>. They now say, +"We know that man, he comes from Sheffield."</p></blockquote> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page211" id="page211"></a>[pg 211]</span> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/211.png"><img src="images/211-600.png" width="600" height="456" alt="THE 'POINT TO POINT RACE.'" /></a> + +<h3>THE "POINT TO POINT RACE."</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>OVER THE COMMITTEE COURSE.</i>)<br /><br /></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Mr. Jorrocks-Gladstone</span> (<i>loq.</i>). "COME HUP! I SAY—YOU HUGLY +BEAST!!"</p></div> +<hr /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page212" id="page212"></a>[pg 212]</span> +<br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page213" id="page213"></a>[pg 213]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a href="images/213.png"><img src="images/213-600.png" width="600" height="241" alt="Massa Beerbones Lord Shillingworth. Massa Johnson O'Wilde. Dr. Proudie Kemble of Barchester. Lady Nickleby Leclercq." /></a> +<p class="center"> +Massa Beerbones Lord Shillingworth. +Massa Johnson O'Wllde. +Dr. Proudie Kemble of Barchester. +Lady Nickleby Leclercq.</p></div> + +<h4>CHRISTY MINSTRELS OF NO IMPORTANCE.</h4> + +<hr /> + + +<h3>A WORK OF—SOME IMPORTANCE.</h3> + +<p>"Let who will give me a plot, <i>I</i> will write their dialogue." +(<i>Extract from Uncommon-place Book of</i> Mr. <span class="sc">O. Wilde</span>.) Now +when the author of <i>A Woman of No Importance</i> and of <i>Lady +Windermere's Fan</i> has to find his own materials for a plot +(<i>"'Play-wrights' +materials for plots made up.' Idea for Literary and +Dramatic Advertisement" Note-book, O. W.</i>)—well, he does find +them, and makes them his own. (<i>"Adoption not adaptation. A +clear distinction.—N.B. I confer the 'distinction'" O. W.</i>) Certainly +"Our <span class="sc">Oscar</span>" possesses the happy knack of turning out some +well-polished epigrams up to Drawing-room date. And so it happens +that, during the first two Acts, when Mr. <span class="sc">Wilde's</span> <i>dramatis +personæ</i> +are all gathered together, with nothing to do and plenty to +say, their conversation is light and airy, with an occasional sparkler +coming out (<i>"A summer night, with, at intervals, a brilliant meteor +flashing through the sky." Uncom. P. B., O. W.</i>), that crackles, goes +pop like the weasel of the old song, and "then is heard no more," +as was the case with <i>Macbeth's</i> poor player, and, as he was a poor +player, his fate was not undeserved.—(<i>Mem. "A Lady Nickleby +or Duchesse de Malapropos, to misquote.—For example, she might +say, as quoting Shakspeare, 'Life's but a walking candle.'" O. W.</i>)</p> + +<p>We all remember how poor <i>Mr. Dick</i> couldn't keep King Charles's +Head out of his manuscript. The Author of <i>No Importance</i> is similarly +affected. Left to himself for a plot, he cannot keep melodrama +out of his play, and what ought to have been a comedy pure and +simple (or the reverse) drops suddenly into old-fashioned theatrical +melodrama. During the first two Acts <i>Lady Hunstanton</i>, <i>Lady +Caroline Pontefract</i>, <i>Mrs. Allonby</i>, <i>Lord Illingworth</i>, <i>The +Venerable +James Daubeny, D.D.</i>, talk on pleasantly enough until interrupted +by the sudden apparition of the aforesaid King Charles the First's +Head, represented by the wearisome tirades, tawdry, cheap, and +conventional, belonging to the Lytton-Bulwerian-Money period of +the Drama, of which a considerable proportion falls to the share of the +blameless Miss <span class="sc">Julia Neilson</span>, who, as <i>la belle Américaine</i>, +<span class="sc">Hester +Worsley</span>, in her attitude towards her audience, resembles the blessed +<i>Glendoveer</i>, inasmuch as it is "<i>hers</i> to talk, and <i>ours</i> to +hear." +Deeply, too, does everyone sympathise with lively Mrs. <span class="sc">Bernard +Beere</span>, who, as <i>Mrs. Arbuthnot</i>, a sort of up-to-date <i>Mrs. +Haller</i>, +is condemned to do penance in a kind of magpie costume of black +velvet, relieved by a dash of white, rather calling to mind the lady +whom <span class="sc">Charles Dickens</span> described as "<i>Hamlet's</i> Aunt," her funereal +attire being relieved by a whitened face with tear-reddened eyes. It +is these two characters, with <i>Gerald Arbuthnot</i>, Mr. <span class="sc">Fred Terry</span>, +who, like the three gruesome personages in <i>Don Giovanni</i>, will intrude +themselves into what might have been a pleasant, interesting comedy +of modern manners, if only it had had a good comedy plot.</p> + +<p>Taken as a whole, the acting is admirable. Mr. <span class="sc">Tree</span>, as the +titled cad, <i>Lord Illingworth</i>, is perfect in make-up and manner. +Certainly one of the many best things he has done. It is a companion +portrait to the other wicked nobleman in <i>The Dancing Girl</i>. +(<i>"There is another and a worse wicked nobleman" N. B., O. W.</i>) +But this is no fault, and, indeed, it would be difficult, if not impossible, +to find fault with Mr. <span class="sc">Tree's</span> <i>Lord Illingworth</i>. Mrs. +<span class="sc">Tree</span> as <i>Mrs. +Allonby</i>, is a very charming battledore in the game of +repartee-shuttlecock, +who with eight other principal characters in the piece, +has nothing whatever to do with the plot. To the character of <i>Lady +Hunstanton</i>, as written in the Mrs. Nickleby vein, and as played by +Miss <span class="sc">Rose Leclercq</span>, the success is mainly due; and "for this relief +much thanks." It is here and in the comedy characters of the +<i>Archdeacon</i> (Mr. <span class="sc">Kemble</span> excellent in this) and of <i>Lady +Caroline +Pontefract</i> (who couldn't have a better representation than Miss +<span class="sc">Le Thière</span>) that Mr. <span class="sc">O. Wilde</span> shows what he can do as a writer +of comedy, both in the quality of the material and its introduction +at the right moment. (<i>"The right speech at the wrong moment, or +the wrong speech at the right moment, both are fatal. Thus is it +that comedies become tragedies, and tragedies comedies." U.P.N.B., +O. W.</i>) At the Haymarket the "play's" not "the thing," it is the +playing. (<i>"Likewise the writing," O. W.</i>)</p> + +<p>However, it is not for the plot, or for the Bulwery-Lyttony orations, +or for the familiar melodramatic situations that audiences +will seek the Haymarket. No, it will be to hear the Christy-Minstrel +epigrammatic dialogue in the first two Acts, to laugh heartily at +Miss <span class="sc">Leclercq</span> as <i>Lady Nickleby Hunstanton</i>, to smile on the +<i>Archdeacon</i> +and <i>Lady Caroline</i>, and to enjoy the first-rate acting all round.</p> + +<h4>MEMS, FROM THE O. W. UNCOMMONPLACE BOOK.</h4> + +<p>"Essentials for success of modern play are 'Latitude and +Platitude.' First being risky is saved by second."</p> + +<p><i>Receipt for Play-making.</i>—First catch your epigrams: preserve +them for use: serve with <i>sauce piquante un pen risquée</i> distributed +impartially among a variety of non-essential <i>dramatis personæ</i>, +invented for the purpose. Provide fine old crusted copybook moral +sentiments, to suit <i>bourgeois</i> palate: throw in the safe situation of +some one concealed, behind door or window, listening to private conversation. +Add one well-tried effective dramatic situation to bring +down curtain on penultimate Act, and there's a stage-dish to set +before the appreciative B. P., if only it can be presented to them +effectively garnished by a clever and popular Manager at a first-class +theatre.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>FLOWERS OF FASHION.</h4> + +<p>The Botanical Afternoon Fête of last Wednesday was a brilliant +gathering in brilliant weather. Privileged is "the Inner Circle" +to have in its midst these lovely gardens. "The Flowers that bloom +in the Spring, tra la!" were all out uncommonly early—long before +the earliest worm, which hasn't a chance against these very early +risers. "All a-growing!" on the part of the flowers, and "all +a-blowing" on the part of the Band of the Second Life Guards. +Among the distinguished company present we noticed the Crimson +Queen, looking immensely well, the blushing Duchess of <span class="sc">Albany</span>, the +Duchesse de <span class="sc">Vallombrosa</span>, Admiral <span class="sc">Courbet</span>, in a striking +costume +of "deep yellow splashed with red" (where <i>had</i> he been?), the +Ladies <span class="sc">Daphne Pink</span> and <span class="sc">Callas White</span>, and Maréchal +<span class="sc">Niel</span>. +For "<i>Uriah Heep</i>," who "loves to be 'umble," a Silver Medal was +awarded to Mr. <span class="sc">Pike</span>. "The prize, that's my point," observed the +sharp <span class="sc">Pike</span>. Funny Fish <span class="sc">Pike</span>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p><span class="sc">A Penny Wise.</span>—The new import of the latest Budget may be +aptly called "A Penny for your Thoughts," as no one pays a tax +upon his income as it really exists, but as (for Income-tax assessment +purposes) he believes it to be.</p></blockquote> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page214" id="page214"></a>[pg 214]</span> + +<hr /> + + +<h3>THE PICK OF THE R.A. PICTURES.</h3> + +<table style="width: 595px;" align="center" summary="R.A. entries" border="0"> +<tr> +<td class="pics" valign="top"> +<a href="images/214a.png"><img src="images/214a-150.png" width="150" height="276" alt="No. 37. The Knight of the Graceful Curve." border="0" /></a> +</td> + <td class="pics" valign="top"> +<a href="images/214b.png"><img src="images/214b-274.png" width="274" height="276" alt="No. 17. The Hare Apparent trying to study a part under considerable difficulties" border="0" /></a> +</td> + <td class="right" valign="top"> +<a href="images/214c.png"><img src="images/214c-150.png" width="150" height="276" alt="No. 220. Queen of Golf Clubs." border="0" /></a> + +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="picsl" valign="top"> +No. 37. The Knight of the Graceful +Curve. See remarkable figure in +George E. Robertson's picture. +</td> + +<td class="picsl" valign="top"> +No. 17. The Hare Apparent trying to study a part under +considerable +difficulties, as shown in Nos. 18 and 19. +<p class="center" style="margin-top: 0;">(<i>Vide Notes, p. 215.</i>)</p> +</td> + +<td class="picsr" valign="top"> +No. 220. Queen of Golf Clubs. "'I'm +going a golfing, Sir, she said.' You +see I've Gotch 'em in my hand."<br /> +T. C. Gotch. +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<table align="center" summary="R.A. entries" border="0" style="margin-top: 1em; width: 595px;"> +<tr> +<td class="pics" valign="top"> +<a href="images/214d.png"><img src="images/214d-290.png" width="290" height="208" alt="No. 159. Mr. Henry Irving in his Dressing-room studying a New Part." border="0" /></a> +</td> + <td class="pics" valign="top"> +<a href="images/214e.png"><img src="images/214e-290.png" width="290" height="208" alt="No 470. Worse Halves coming Home. A Half-vest Scene." border="0" /></a> + </td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="picsl" valign="top"> +No. 159. Mr. Henry Irving in his Dressing-room studying a New +Part. +Sir F. Leighton, Bart., P.R.A. +</td> + <td class="picsr" valign="top"> + No. 470. Worse Halves coming Home. A Half-vest Scene. It is called +"The Army of Peace," but it seems to be "An Army in Pieces." +F. W. Loring. + </td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/214f.png"><img src="images/214f-600.png" width="600" height="202" alt="Nos. 586 (by Louis Falero), 590 (by St. George Hare), 591 (_encore_ Falero)." /></a> +<p class="center">Nos. 586 (by Louis Falero), 590 (by St. George Hare), 591 +(<i>encore</i> Falero). Awkward Position of an Unprofessional Sitter at a Studio +when the +Models have arrived, but the Artist hasn't yet turned up.</p></div> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page215" id="page215"></a>[pg 215]</span> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/215a.png"><img src="images/215a-600.png" width="600" height="275" alt="No. 217. The New Toy. Little Tottie's Mechanical Bird. Sir J. E. Millais, Bart., R.A. No. 131. The Sea Serpent! Caught at last!! General rejoicings!!! No. 218. His First Cigar." /></a> +</div> + +<table style="width: 595px;" align="center" summary="R.A. entries" border="0"> +<tr> +<td class="picsl" valign="top" width="150"> +No. 217. The New Toy. Little +Tottie's Mechanical Bird. Sir J. +E. Millais, Bart., R.A. +</td> + <td class="picsl" valign="top"> +No. 131. The Sea Serpent! Caught at last!! General rejoicings!!! +Frank Dicksee, R.A. + </td> + <td class="picsr" valign="top" width="150"> +No. 218. His First Cigar. +G. F. Watts, R.A. + </td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/215b.png"><img src="images/215b-600.png" width="600" height="323" alt="No. 375. Disturbed by Wopses. Arthur Hacker." /></a> +<p class="center"><br />No. 375. Disturbed by Wopses. Arthur Hacker.</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<p>No. 18. <i>John Hare, Esq.</i>, +as seen and painted by Sir +<span class="sc">John E. Millais</span>, Bart., R.A., +"<i>The Hare Apparent</i>"—to +every spectator. But what +an unpleasant position! The +eminent Actor is either studying +a part, or has the Box-office +account-book in his +hand, and wants a quiet moment +for serious thought or +close calculation; and yet, in +the next room to him (No. 19), +one of Mr. <span class="sc">Orchardson's</span> +young ladies is singing and +playing a yellow chrome-atic +scale, and in the room overhead +(No. 17), Mr. <span class="sc">Nettleship's</span> +tiger has broken loose, and is +taking a bath. When rescued +from these surroundings, this will remain at home a Hare-loominous +picture for the family.</p> + +<p>No. 28. "<i>Toe-Toe chez Ta-Ta</i>." Miss <span class="sc">Toetoe</span>, in blue, at work +and looking down, says to the other girl, <span class="sc">Tata</span>, who is maliciously +smiling at her, "Oh dear! I <i>do</i> hope that no one will look at my +right thumb or my toes! O Mr. <span class="sc">Woods</span>, A., why was my right +thumb left like this?"</p> + +<p>No. 34. In this Mr. <span class="sc">Morley Fletcher</span> shows us a Female Martyr +in Tomartyr-coloured dress, preparatory to being taken off to the +<i>Auto da fé</i>.</p> + +<p>No. 45. "<i>An Undress Rehearsal</i>" <span class="sc">Stuart G. Davis</span>.</p> + +<p>No. 49. "<i>On the Temple Steps.</i>" By <span class="sc">John Griffiths</span>. For +years we've known that <span class="sc">Griffiths</span> is "the safe man" to follow. +But, unless this is a work of pure imagination, anyone well acquainted +with the Temple Pier and the Temple Steps will naturally +ask, "Where are the Steam-boats?"</p> + +<p>Nos. 51, 52, and 53. The first is a Harmony in Sea by Mr. <span class="sc">Henry +Moore</span>, A., and the second is Mr. <span class="sc">Miller's</span>—(<span class="sc">William</span> not +<span class="sc">Joseph +Miller</span>)—<i>Colonel Hornsby-Drake</i>. This Drake seems out of his +element, as he ought to have been floating about with the wild fowl +that belong naturally to the picture below.</p> + +<p>Nos. 63-66.</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8">"Four little whitey boys out for a run,</p> +<p class="i8"> Ate early greeny food. Then there were none!"</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>Painted by <span class="sc">Amy Sawyer</span>. "Not a work of imagination, my dear +little boys, because you were seen by <span class="sc">Amy</span>—that is, <span class="sc">Amy</span> <i>saw +yer</i>!"</p> + +<p>No. 70. <i>Study in Pâtisserie.</i> Design for a chocolate ornament +covered with sugar. Recommended by Messrs. <span class="sc">Clark and +Hamilton</span>.</p> + +<p>No. 71. <i>Lion in Desert.</i> Very tame. Mr. <span class="sc">Herbert Dicksee</span>.</p> + +<p>No. 76. <i>The New Skirt Dance.</i> ∴ We strongly recommend +the study of this picture to admirers of the "Skirt Dance." It +shows how one of the male sex may attempt it—that is, according to +the idea of the designer, <span class="sc">Herbert Dicksee</span>.</p> + +<p>No. 88. <i>Colonel W. Barnardiston.</i> +"First Chairman of +West Suffolk County Council." +Painted by <span class="sc">Hubert Herkomer</span>, +R.A. If he is "First +Chairman," it doesn't matter +what he is afterwards, since +he has been immortalised by +the admirable painting of +<span class="sc">Hubert Herkomer</span>. He'll +remain "First Chairman" in +the <i>Dramatis Personæ</i> of this +year's Catalogue, at all events, +and be H. H.'s "Perpetual +First Chairman," too, be the +other where he may.</p> + +<p>No. 103. "<i>Elder Bush</i>." +By <span class="sc">H. W. B. Davis,</span> R.A. +From the title you might +expect it to be the portrait of +a Presbyterian "Elder" named "<span class="sc">Bush</span>." But it isn't. Look at +it. It is the sweetest, most natural, perfectest of charming "bits" +of rural Nature in the whole show. There's no beating about this +bush; in fact this Elder Bush is one that is very hard to beat.</p> + +<p>No. 130. <i>His Grace the Duke of Devonshire.</i> Encore! Bravo, +Mr. <span class="sc">Hubert Herkomer</span>. You're are a-going it this year, you are, +Sir! You've given the Duke all his Grace, and there's a kind of +orange tint about him, which, just now, is not without its political +signification.</p> + +<p>No. 132. We must go to Kennington (<span class="sc">T. B. Kennington</span>) to see +"<i>The Queen of Love</i>." She is sitting on a tiger's skin, and has her +hand on the head of the savage beast, which shows its fangs. "A +<i>fang-see</i> subject," says <span class="sc">'Arry Joker</span>.</p> + +<p>No. 158. <span class="sc">Honeymooners</span>. "Here we are again!" Same kind of +Stone Fruit from <span class="sc">Marcus Stone</span>, R.A. "Sparkles this Stone as it +was wont!"—<i>Cymbeline.</i> ii., 4. [<i>To be continued in our next.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Among the Immortals at the Royal Academy Banquet Last +Saturday</span>.—H.R.H. made one of his usually happy speeches; the +Duke of <span class="sc">Cambridge</span>, the Earl of <span class="sc">Rosebery</span>, and Lord +<span class="sc">Herschell</span> +represented the comedy element; while Lord <span class="sc">Kelvin</span> and Mr. <span class="sc">Leslie +Stephen</span> were perfect in what, theatrically speaking, is termed "the +heavy lead;" and certainly their speeches were—ahem!—weighty. +Pretty to note how His Scarlet-robed Eminence entered the room, +not only with a grace all his own, but with His Grace of <span class="sc">Canterbury</span> +as well. Never was the President, Sir <span class="sc">Frederick Leighton</span>, more +effective in all his speeches, and especially when replying to the toast +of "The Academy," where the perfection of his speech lay in the +subtle concealment of its art, and in the genuine earnestness of his +advice to students <i>urbi et orbi</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p><span class="sc">Sporting Answer</span> (<i>Garden</i>).—<span class="sc">Tottie</span>: The flower you have +forwarded to us is not a flower at all. It is an East African rhinoceros. +We have returned it as requested, by parcel post.</p></blockquote> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page216" id="page216"></a>[pg 216]</span> + +<hr /> + +<h3>ALL-A-BLOWING!</h3> + +<h4>(<i>A Cockney Pastoral in Spring time.</i>)</h4> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Who-o-o-f!</i> It's hot amost as Summer-time; yet what a blessed breeze</p> +<p>Is a-whiffing round the corners, and a-whoostling through the trees!</p> +<p>And the sunlight on the roof-slates, all aslant to the blue sky,</p> +<p>Seems to twinkle like the larfter in a pooty gurl's blue eye,</p> +<p>When you swing in the dance, and she feels you've got 'er step:</p> +<p>And the trees—ah! bless their branches!—through the winter weeks they've slep',</p> +<p>When the worrying winds would let 'em, all as black and mum as mutes,</p> +<p>A-waiting for the blackbirds, with their calls like meller flutes.</p> +<p>Just to whistle them awake like. Oh! but now they stir and rouse</p> +<p>Like a girl who has bin dreamin' of her lover in a drowse,</p> +<p>And wakes up to feel 'is kisses on 'er softly poutin' lips.</p> +<p>How they burst, all a-thirst for the April shower that drips</p> +<p>Tinkle-tink from leaf to leaf, washing every spraylet clean</p> +<p>From the sooty veil of London, which might dim the buddin' green</p> +<p>Of the pluckiest lime-tree, sproutin' o'er brown pales in a back-yard;</p> +<p>For these limes bud betimes, and they find it middlin' hard</p> +<p>To make way at windy corners, when the lamp as lights 'em through,</p> +<p>Like gold on green in pantomimes, is blown till it burns blue,</p> +<p>By the angry nor'east gusts. But the nor'east wind to-day</p> +<p>Is less like a rampin' lion than some new-born lamb at play.</p> +<p>Wy, the laylock's out aready, purple spires and creamy clumps.</p> +<p>Oh, that scent of shower-washed laylock! There's a somethin' in me jumps</p> +<p>As I ketch it round some corner, where the heart-shaped leaflets small</p> +<p>Cluster up against the stucco, as they did about that wall,</p> +<p>Grey, and gritty, and glass-spiked, of our tumble-down old cot</p> +<p>Out Epping way, in boy-time long ago, and quite a lot</p> +<p>Of remembrances came crowding, like good ghostes, in that scent;</p> +<p>There's the mother's call to dinner, there's the landlord's call—for rent!</p> +<p>And the call of the rooks,—and another call, fur off,</p> +<p>Like a whisper from a grave-yard, green and silent.</p> +<p class="i38"> Some may scoff</p> +<p>At a Cockney's chat of laylocks. I could bury my old phiz</p> +<p>In their crisp and nutty coolness, as I did when flirty Liz,</p> +<p>My first sweetheart, sent me packing, one Spring mornin'—for a while—</p> +<p>And them blossoms cooled my anger—most as much as the arch smile</p> +<p>Which won me back to wooin'.</p> +<p class="i28"> There's a blackbird on the top</p> +<p>Of yon tall, half bare acacia, pipes as if he'd never stop,</p> +<p>Tryin' all his tunelets over, like a sort of talking flute:—</p> +<p>"<i>Chip-chip! Tsee-tsee! Chu-chu! Chu-rook!</i>" goes the bird of sable suit.</p> +<p>"<i>We-know-it! We-know-it! We-know-it! Bring-the-whip!—the whip!—the whip!</i></p> +<p><i>"Chu-rook-chu-chu! Chu-rook-chu-chu! Tsee-tsee-chu-chu-chip-chip!</i>"</p> +<p>So he pours his pantin' heart out in a song half tune, half patter,</p> +<p>Like a meller music-haller of the tree-tops!</p> +<p class="i36"> Ah—what matter</p> +<p>That 'tis only London's outskirts, that I'm a poor Cockney cove,</p> +<p>When this Wondrous Spring is on us? As my shallow on I shove,</p> +<p>And blare out my "All-a-blowing, All-a-growing!" down the streets,</p> +<p>There's a something fresh and shining-like in every face I meets!</p> +<p>Tis the Spring-love breaking through them! Wy, the very dirt looks clean</p> +<p>In the shimmer of the sunlight, and the shadow of the green.</p> +<p><i>All-a-blowing! All-a-growing!</i> When I shout, I seem to sing,</p> +<p>For my cry takes on a music. It's the very Voice of Spring!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/216.png"><img src="images/216-315.png" width="315" height="460" alt="'MEAT FOR YOUR MASTER!'" /></a> +<h4>"MEAT FOR YOUR MASTER!"</h4> + +<p>"<span class="sc">We shall only be Two to-night; Cook—your Master and +Me—so all we shall want will be Soup and Fish and Lamb +and Asparagus, with a <i>Soufflé</i> to follow, and a little Sweet-bread +after the Fish, you know</span>!"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Yes, Ma'am. And for the Kitchen</span>?"</p> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Oh—well—there's some of that Potted Ham still left +we had for Breakfast yesterday. It's just on the turn, you +know, so you may as well finish it Downstairs. It will do +very well for your Dinner to-day, and To-morrow you shall +each have an Egg</span>!" </p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>THE DEARTH OF GENIUSES.</h3> + +<p class="center">(<i>Dedicated to the Right Hon. A. J. +Balfour.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Cried Genius A. to Genius B., "Let's summon Genius C.,</p> +<p>And, to make a <i>partie carrée</i>, we will call in Genius D."</p> +<p>And when they were assembled these solemn four sat down,</p> +<p>And they all read Mr. <span class="sc">Balfour's</span> speech, and read it with a frown.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Said Genius A., "No Geniuses? By Heaven, he's talking rot!"</p> +<p>And Genius B. replied thereto, "I can't say he is not."</p> +<p>And C. and D., the poets, who warble like the birds,</p> +<p>Agreed with Genius A. and B. in scorning <span class="sc">Balfour's</span> words.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"A Genius <i>may</i> arise, he says; that's coming it too strong;</p> +<p>Why, dash it, I can count up three in prose and eke in song!"</p> +<p>Thus A. began; the three replied, "You're not an egoist;</p> +<p>You quite forgot to add yourself, and so complete the list."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"We'll prove it on the spot," declared dramatic Genius A.</p> +<p>"You three shall sit as judges, and I will read my play.</p> +<p>'Tis a drama of the passions, all strictly based on facts,</p> +<p>And they break the Decalogue to bits in five exhaustive Acts."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"That <i>might</i> be good," said B.; "but <i>I</i>'ve a little thing, I guess,</p> +<p>Which ought to take precedence, a novel in MS.;</p> +<p>With characters so deftly drawn in all their changing scenes,</p> +<p>That <span class="sc">Thackeray</span> and <span class="sc">Dickens</span> must be knocked to smithereens."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>But C. broke in; his hair was long, his eyes were very wild,</p> +<p>He was in truth a strangely-garbed and most poetic child;</p> +<p>Said he, "Your plays and novels may all be very well,</p> +<p>But I've an epic poem here on <i>Happiness in Hell</i>."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And D., the pretty lyricist, he hummed and then he hawed,</p> +<p>"I've half a hundred sonnets here to <span class="sc">Mabel</span>, <span class="sc">Madge</span>, and <span class="sc">Maud</span>.</p> +<p>I'll read them first, and then I'll read"—the other three grew pale—</p> +<p>"My last new book, <i>The Musings of a Town-bred Nightingale</i>."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6">* + * + * + * + * + *</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p style="margin-top: -0.8em;">And so they sat, and talked and talked, the argument waxed hot,</p> +<p>For each one was a Genius born, and none would budge a jot.</p> +<p>And till they settle who begins, and which of them shall yield,</p> +<p>I fear the "dearth of Geniuses"—see speech—must hold the field.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<blockquote><p><span class="sc">Rather a Long Shot.</span>—How to "attempt the life of the +<span class="sc">Premier</span>." Discharge a revolver in the neighbourhood of Downing +Street, and listen to the report in the evening papers.</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="full" /> + + +<table align="center" summary="note" style="margin-top: 5em;"> +<tr><td class="note"> +<h4>Transcriber's Note:</h4> + +<p>Missing and illegible/damaged punctuation has been repaired.</p> + +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections.</p> +<p style="margin-top:-1em;">Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p> + +</td></tr></table> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOLUME 104, MAY 6, 1893***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 26454-h.txt or 26454-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/6/4/5/26454">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/4/5/26454</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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