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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:53:01 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:53:01 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30033-0.txt b/30033-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a7fbedd --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1211 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30033 *** + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 30033-h.htm or 30033-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30033/30033-h/30033-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30033/30033-h.zip) + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI + +VOL. 98. + +FEBRUARY 8, 1890. + + + + + + + +[Illustration: ] + +UNTILED; OR, THE MODERN ASMODEUS. + + "Très volontiers," repartit le démon. "Vous aimez les tableaux + changeans: je veux vous contenter." + +_Le Diable Boiteux._ + + XIX. + + "A Late Symposium! Yet they're not engaged + In compotations. Argument hath raged + Four hours by the dial; + But zealotry of party, creed, or clique + Marks not the clock, whilst of polemic pique + There's one unvoided vial." + + So smiled the Shade. Dusk coat and gleaming head, + Viewed from above, before my gaze outspread + Like a black sea bespotted + With bare pink peaks of coral isles; all eyes + Were fixed on one who reeled out rhapsodies + In diction double-shotted. + + A long and lofty room, with pillars cold, + And spacious walls of chocolate and gold; + The solid sombre glory + Of tint oppressive and of tasteless shine, + Dear to the modern British Philistine, + Saint, sceptic, Whig, or Tory. + + "No Samson-strength of intellect or taste + Shall bow the pillars of this temple chaste + Of ugliness and unction. + What is't they argue lengthily and late? + The flame of patriot passion for the State + Fires this polemic function. + + "A caitiff Government has done a thing + To make its guardian-angel droop her wing + In sickened indignation: + That is, has striven to strengthen its redoubts, + Perfidious 'Ins,' to foil the eager 'Outs.' + Hence endless execration. + + "Hence all Wire-pullerdom is up in arms; + With clarion-toned excursions and alarms + The rival camp is ringing. + Hence perky commoners and pompous peers, + 'Midst vehement applause and volleying cheers, + Stale platitudes are stringing. + + "The British Public--some five hundred strong-- + Is here to 'strangle a Gigantic Wrong,'-- + So MARABOUT is saying. + Watch his wide waistcoat and his wandering eyes, + His stamping boots of Brobdingnagian size, + Clenched hands, and shoulders swaying. + + "A great Machine-man, MARABOUT! He dotes + On programmes hectographed and Party votes. + For all his pasty pallor + And shifty glance, he has the mob's regard, + And he is deemed by council, club, and ward + A mighty man of valour. + + "A purchased henchman to a Star of State? + Perhaps. But here he'll pose and perorate, + A Brutus vain and voluble. + And who, like MARABOUT, with vocal flux + Of formulas, can settle every _crux_ + That wisdom finds insoluble? + + "'Hear! hear!' That shibboleth of shallow souls + Around his ears in clamorous cadence rolls; + He swells, he glows, he twinkles; + The sapient Chairman wags his snowy pate, + Whilst cynic triumph, cautious yet elate, + Lurks laughing in his wrinkles. + + "And there sits honest zeal, absorbed, intent, + And cheerfully credulous. MARABOUT has bent + To the Commercial Dagon + He publicly derides; but many here + Will toast 'his genuine grit, his manly cheer,' + Over a friendly flagon. + + "Look on him later! There he snugly sits + With his rich patron. Were it war of wits + That wakes their crackling chuckles, + They scarce were heartier. It would strangely shock + MARABOUT'S worshippers to hear him mock + The 'mob' to which he truckles. + + "Truckles in platform speech. In club-room chat + With WAGSTAFF, shrewd wire-puller, flushed and fat, + Or DODD, the rich dry-salter, + You'd hear how supply he can shift and twist, + How BRUTUS with 'the base Monopolist' + Can calmly plot and palter," + + "Whilst MARABOUTS abound, O Shade," I cried, + "What wonder men are 'Mugwumps?'" Then my guide + Laughed low. "The æsthetic villa + Finds Shopdom's zeal on its fine senses jar; + Yet the Mugwumps Charybdis stands not far + From the Machine-man's Scylla. + + "Culture derides the Caucus for its heat, + Its hate--its absence of the Light and Sweet, + So jays might flout the vulture. + Partisan bitterness and purblind haste? + Come, view the haunts of dilettante Taste, + The coteries of Culture! + + "Here _Savants_ wrangle o'er a fossil bone, + CHAMPER, with curling lip and caustic tone, + At RUDDIMAN is railing. + CHAMPER knows everything, from PLATO'S text + To Protoplasm; yet his soul is vext, + His cheeks with spite are paling. + + "Why? Because RUDDIMAN, the rude, robust, + Has pierced with logic's vigorous vulgar thrust + The shield of icy polish. + CHAMPER, in print, is hot on party-hate, + Here his one aim is in the rough debate + His rival to demolish. + + "Sweet Reasonableness? Another host + Of sages see! The habits of the Ghost, + The Astral Body's action, + Absorb them, eager. Does more furious fire + The councils of the Caucusites inspire, + Or light the feuds of faction? + + "And there? They argue out with toil intense + A 'cosmic' poet's esoteric sense, + Of which a world, unwitting, + Recks nothing. Yet how terribly they'd trounce + Parliament's pettifogging, and denounce + 'Political hair-splitting'!" + + "O Shade, the difference is but small, one dreads. + Betwixt logomachists at loggerheads, + Whether their theme be bonnets + Or British interests. Zealot ardour burns + Scarce fiercer o'er Electoral Returns + Than over SHAKSPEARE'S Sonnets. + + "At MARABOUT the Mugwump sniffs and sneers; + Gregarious 'votes of thanks' and sheepish 'cheers' + Stir him to satire scornful. + But when sleek Culture apes, irate and loud, + The follies of the Caucus and the Crowd, + The spectacle is mournful." + + "True!" smiled the Shade. "Yon supercilious sage, + With patent prejudice and petty rage, + Penning a tart jobation + On practised Statesmen, must as much amuse + As Statesmen-sciolists venting vapid views + On rocks and revelation." + + (_To be continued._) + + * * * * * + +THE SOUTH-EASTERN ALPHABET. + + A was the Anger evinced far and wide; + B was the Boat-train delayed by the tide; + C was the Chairman who found nothing wrong; + D was the Driver who sang the same song; + E was the Engine that stuck on the way; + F stood for Folkestone, reached late every day; + G was the Grumble to which this gave rise; + H was the Hubbub Directors despise; + I was the Ink over vain letters used; + J were the Junctions which some one abused; + K was the Kick "Protest" got for its crimes; + L were the Letters it wrote to the _Times_; + M was the Meeting that probed the affair; + N was the Nothing that came of the scare; + O was the Overdue train on its way; + P was the Patience that bore the delay; + Q was the Question which struck everyone; + R the Reply which could satisfy none; + S was the Station where passengers wait; + T was the Time that they're bound to be late; + U was the Up-train an hour overdue; + V was the Vagueness its movements pursue; + W stood for time's general Waste; + X for Ex-press that could never make haste; + Y for the Wherefore and Why of this wrong; + And Z for the Zanies who stand it so long! + + * * * * * + +STARTLING FOR GOURMETS.--"_Bisques_ disallowed." But it only refers to a +new rule of the Lawn Tennis Association; so "_Bisque d'écrevisses_" will +still be preserved to us among the _embarras de richesse_--(_i.e._ the +trouble caused subsequently by the richness,--_free trans._)--of a +thoroughgoing French dinner. + + * * * * * + +THE NEW TUNE. + +[Illustration: ] + +_Le Brav' Général tootles_:-- + + Heroes bold owe much to bold songs. + What's that? "Cannot sing the old songs"? + Pooh! 'Tis a Britannic ditty. + Truth, though, in it,--more's the pity! + "_En revenant de la Revue._" + People tire of that--too true! + I must give them something new. + Played out, Frenchmen? _Pas de danger!_ + Whilst you've still your _Brav'_ BOULANGER! + + Do they think BOULANGER "mizzles," + After all his recent "fizzles"? + (Most expressive slang, the Yankee!) + _Pas si bête_, my friends. No thank ye! + Came a cropper? Very true! + But I remount--my hobby's new, + So's my trumpet. Rooey-too! + France go softly? _Pas de danger!_ + Whilst she has her _Brav'_ BOULANGER! + + Cannot say her looks quite flatter. + Rather scornful. What's the matter? + Have you lost your recent fancy + For me and my charger prancy? + Turn those eyes this way, now _do_! + Mark my hobby,--not a screw! + Listen to my _chanson_ new! + BISMARCK flout you? _Pas de danger!_ + _He's_ afraid of _Brav'_ BOULANGER. + + Of your smile be not so chary! + The sixteenth of February + Probably will prove my care is + The especial charge of Paris. + Then you'll know that I am true. + "_En revenant de la Revue_;" + Stick to me, I'll stick to you. + Part with you, sweet? _Pas de danger!_ + Not the game of _Brav'_ BOULANGER! + + * * * * * + +THE CAPTAIN OF THE "PARIS." + + Captain SHARP, of the Newhaven steamer, _Paris, you_'re no craven; + Grim and growling was the gale that you from your dead reckoning + bore; + And, but for your brave behaving, she might never have made haven, + But have foundered in mid-Channel, or been wrecked on a lee-shore. + With your paddle-floats unfeathered, wonder was it that you weathered + Such a storm as that of Sunday, which upset our nerves on land, + Though in fire-side comfort tethered. How it blew, and blared, + and blethered! + All your passengers, my Captain, say your pluck and skill were + grand. + Much to men like you is owing, when wild storms around are blowing, + As they seem to have been doing since the opening of the year: + Howling, hailing, sleeting, snowing; but for captains calm and + knowing, + Passage of our angry Channel were indeed a task of fear. + Well, you brought them safely through it, when not every man could do + it, + And your passengers, my Captain, are inspired with gratitude. + Therefore, _Mr. Punch_ thus thanks you, and right readily enranks you, + As a hero on the record of our briny island brood. + Verily the choice of "_Paris_" in this case proved right; and rare is + Fitness between name and nature such as that _you_ illustrate. + Captain SHARP! A proper _nomen_, and it proved a prosperous omen + To your passengers, whom _Punch_ must on their luck congratulate. + + * * * * * + +ON BOARD THE CHANNEL STEAMER "PARIS" (_Night of Saturday, January 25, +1890_).--"SHARP'S the word!" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: NOTHING LIKE A CHANGE! + +_Dr. Cockshure._ "MY GOOD SIR, WHAT _YOU_ WANT IS THOROUGH ALTERATION OF +CLIMATE. THE ONLY THING TO CURE _YOU_ IS A LONG SEA VOYAGE!" + +_Patient._ "THAT'S RATHER INCONVENIENT. YOU SEE I'M ONLY JUST HOME FROM +A SEA VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD!"] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +The title of the second chapter of _The Days of the Dandies_, in +_Blackwood_, is calculated to excite curiosity,--it is, "Some Great +Beauties, and some Social Celebrities." After reading the article, I +think it would have been styled more correctly, "A Few Great Beauties." +However, it is discursively amusing and interesting. There is much truth +in the paper on Modern Mannish Maidens. I hold that no number of a +Magazine is perfect without a tale of mystery and wonder, or a +ghost-story of some sort. I hope I have not overlooked one of these in +any Magazine for this month that I have seen. Last month there was a +good one in _Macmillan_, and another in _Belgravia_. I forget their +titles, unfortunately, and have mislaid the Magazines. But +_After-thoughts_, in this month's _Macmillan_, is well worth perusal. + +[Illustration: ] + +My faithful "Co." has been looking through the works of reference. He +complains that _Dod's Peerage, Baronetage, and Knighthood for 1890_ is +carelessly edited. He notes, as a sample, that Sir HENRY LELAND +HARRISON, who is said to have been born in 1857, is declared to have +entered the Indian Civil Service in 1860, when he was only three years +old--a manifest absurdity. As _Mr. Punch_ himself pointed out this +_bêtise_ in _Dod's &c., &c., for 1889_, it should have been corrected in +the new edition. "If this sort of thing continues," says the faithful +"Co.," "_Dod_ will be known as _Dodder_, or even _Dodderer_!" Sir +BERNARD BURKE'S _Genealogical and Heraldic Dictionary of the Peerage and +Baronetage_ is, in every sense, a noble volume, and seems to have been +compiled with the greatest care and accuracy. KELLY'S _Post Office +Directory_, of course, is a necessity to every man of letters. +_Whitaker's Almanack for 1890_ seems larger than usual, and better than +ever. WEBSTER'S _Royal Red Book_, and GARDINER'S _Royal Blue Book_, it +goes without saying, are both written by men of address. _The Century +Atlas and Gazetteer_ is a book amongst a hundred. Finally, the _Era +Almanack for 1890_, conducted by EDWARD LEDGER, is, as usual, full of +information concerning things theatrical--some of it gay, some of it +sad. "Replies to Questions by Actors and Actresses" is the liveliest +contribution in the little volume. The Obituary contains the name of +"EDWARD LITT LEMAN BLANCHARD," dramatist, novellist, and journalist, who +died on the 4th of September, 1889. It is hard to realise the _Era +Almanack_ without the excellent contributions of poor "E. L. B.!" + +"Co." furnishes some other notes in a livelier strain:-- + +_Matthew Prior._ (KEGAN PAUL.) If you are asked to go out in this +abominable weather, shelter yourself under the wing of Mr. AUSTIN +DOBSON, and plead a prior engagement. (Ha! Ha!) You will find the +engagement both prior and profitable. Mr. DOBSON'S introductory essay is +not only exhaustive, but in the highest degree interesting, and his +selection from the poems has been made with great taste and rare +discretion. + +_In the Garden of Dreams._ The lack of poets of the softer sex has been +recently a subject of remark. Lady-novelists we have in super-abundance, +of lady-dramatists we have more than enough, of lady-journalists we have +legions--but lady-poets we have but few. Possibly, they flourish more on +the other side of the Atlantic. At any rate we have a good example of +the American Muse in the latest volume by Mrs. LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON. +This little book is full of grace, its versification is melodious, and +has the genuine poetic ring about it, which is as rare as it is +acceptable. It can scarcely fail to find favour with English readers. + + BARON DE BOOK-WORMS & CO. + + * * * * * + +EPIDEMIOLOGICAL. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--The Camel is reported to be greatly instrumental in the +spread of cholera. This is evidently the Bacterian Camel, whose +humps--or is it hump?--have long been such a terror to those who really +don't care a bit how many humps an animal has. + +Yours faithfully, HUMPHRY CAMPBELL. + + * * * * * + +To THOSE WHO GET THEIR LIVING BY DYEING.--"Sweet Auburn!" exclaimed a +ruddy, aureate-haired lady of uncertain age,--anything, in fact, after +fifty,--"'Sweet Auburn!'" she repeated, musingly, "What does 'Sweet +Auburn' come from?" "Well," replied her husband, regarding her +_coiffure_ with an air of uncertainty, "I'm not quite sure, but I think +'Sweet Auburn' should be GRAY." + + * * * * * + +MR. PUNCH'S MORAL MUSIC-HALL DRAMAS. + +No. V.--BRUNETTE AND BLANCHIDINE. + +_A Melodramatic Didactic Vaudeville, suggested by "The Wooden Doll and +the Wax Doll." By the Misses Jane and Ann Taylor._ + +[Illustration:] + +DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. + +_Blanchidine_,} By the celebrated SISTERS STILTON, the Champion +_Brunette_. } Duettists and Clog-dancers. + + +_Fanny Furbelow._ By MISS SYLVIA SEALSKIN (_by kind permission of + the Gaiety Management_). + +_Frank Manly._ By MR. HENRY NEVILLE. + +SCENE--_A Sunny Glade in Kensington Gardens, between the Serpentine +and Round Pond_. + +_Enter_ BLANCHIDINE _and_ BRUNETTE, _with their arms thrown + affectionately around one another_. BLANCHIDINE _is carrying a large + and expressionless wooden doll_. + + _Duet and Step-dance._ + + _Bl._ Oh, I do adore BRUNETTE! (_Dances._) Tippity-tappity, + tappity-tippity, tippity-tappity, tip-tap! + + _Br_. BLANCHIDINE'S the sweetest pet! (_Dances._) Tippity-tappity, &c. + +_Together._ When the sun is high, + We come out to ply, + Nobody is nigh, + All is mirth and j'y! + + With a pairosol, + We'll protect our doll, + Make a mossy bed + For her wooden head! + + [_Combination step-dance, during which both watch their feet with an + air of detached and slightly amused interest, as if they belonged to + some other persons._ + + Clickity-clack, clickity-clack, clickity, clickity, clickity-clack; + clackity-clickity, clickity-clackity, clackity-clickity-_clack_! + + [_Repeat ad. lib._ + + _Bl._ (_apologetically to Audience_). Her taste in dress is rather + plain! (_Dances._) Tippity-tappity, &c. + + _Br._ (_in pitying aside_). It _is_ a pity she's so vain! + (_Dances._) Tippity-tappity, &c. + + _Bl._ 'Tis a shime to smoile, + But she's shocking stoyle, + It is quite a troyal, + Still--she mikes a foil! + + _Br._ Often I've a job + To suppress a sob, + She is such a snob, + When she meets a nob! [_Step-dance as before._ + + [_N.B.--In consideration of the well-known difficulty that most + popular variety-artists experience in the metrical delivery of + decasyllabic couplets, the lines which follow have been written as + they will most probably be spoken._ + + _Bl._ (_looking off with alarm_). Why, here comes FANNY FURBELOW, a + new frock from Paris in! She'll find me with BRUNETTE--it's too + embarrassing! + + [_Aside._ + _To Brunette._ BRUNETTE, my love, I know _such_ a pretty game we'll + play at-- + Poor TIMBURINA'S ill, and the seaside she ought to stay at. + (The Serpentine's the seaside, let's pretend,) + And _you_ shall take her there--(_hypocritically_)--you're such a + friend! + + _Br._ (_with simplicity_). Oh, yes, that _will_ be splendid, + BLANCHIDINE, + And then we can go and have a dip in a bathing-machine! + + [BLAN. _resigns the wooden doll to_ BRUN., _who skips off + with it_, L., _as_ FANNY FURBELOW _enters_, R., _carrying a + magnificent wax doll_. + + _Fanny_ (_languidly_). Ah, howdy do--_isn't_ this heat too frightful? + And so you're quite alone? + + _Bl._ (_nervously_). Oh, _quite_--oh yes, I always am alone, when + there's nobody with me. + + [_This is a little specimen of the Lady's humorous "gag," at + which she is justly considered a proficient._ + + _Fanny_ (_drawling_). Delightful! + When I was wondering, only a little while ago, + If I should meet a creature that I know; + Allow me--my new doll, the LADY MINNIE! + + _[Introducing doll._ + + _Bl._ (_rapturously_). Oh, what a perfect love! + + _Fanny_. She ought to be--for a guinea! + Here, you may nurse her for a little while. + Be careful, for her frock's the latest style. + + [_Gives_ BLAN. _the wax doll_. + + She's the best wax, and has three changes of clothing-- + For those cheap wooden dolls I've quite a loathing. + + _Bl._ (_hastily_). Oh, so have _I_--they're not to be endured! + + _Re-enter_ BRUNETTE _with the wooden doll, which she tries to + press upon_ BLANCHIDINE, _much to the latter's confusion_. + + _Br._ I've brought poor TIMBURINA back, completely cured! + Why, aren't you pleased? Your face is looking so cloudy! + + _F._ (_haughtily_). Is she a friend of _yours_--this little dowdy? + + [_Slow music._ + + _Bl._ (_after an internal struggle_). Oh, no, what an idea! Why, I + don't even know her by name! Some vulgar child ... + + [_Lets the wax doll fall unregarded on the gravel._ + + _Br._ (_indignantly_). Oh, what a horrid shame! + I see _now_ why you sent us to the Serpentine! + + _Bl._ (_heartlessly_). There's no occasion to flare up like turpentine. + + _Br._ (_ungrammatically_). I'm _not_! Disown your doll, and thrust me, + too, aside, + The one thing left for both of us is--suicide! + Yes, TIMBURINA, us no more she cherishes-- + _(Bitterly.)_ Well, the Round Pond a handy place to perish is! + + [_Rushes off stage with wooden doll._ + + _Bl._ (_making a feeble attempt to follow_). Come back, BRUNETTE; don't + leave me thus, in charity! + + _F._ (_with contempt_). Well, I'll be off--since you seem to prefer + vulgarity. + + _Bl._ No, stay--but--ah, she said--what if she _meant_ it? + + _F._ Not she! And, if she did, _we_ can't prevent it. + + _Bl._ (_relieved_). That's true--we'll play, and think no more about + her. + + _F._ (_sarcastically_). We may _just_ manage to get on without her! + So come--(_perceives doll lying face upwards on path_)--you odious + girl, what have you done? + Left LADY MINNIE lying in the blazing sun! + 'Twas done on purpose--oh, you _thing_ perfidious! [_Stamps._ + You _knew_ she'd melt, and get completely hideous! + Don't answer _me_, Miss--I wish we'd never met. + You're only fit for persons like BRUNETTE! + + [_Picks up doll, and exit in passion._ + + _Grand Sensation Descriptive Soliloquy, by_ BLANCHIDINE, _to + Melodramatic Music._ + + _Bl._ Gone! Ah, I am rightly punished! What would I not give now to + have homely little BRUNETTE, and dear old wooden-headed TIMBURINA back + again! _She_ wouldn't melt in the sun.... Where are they now? Great + Heavens! that threat--that rash resolve ... I remember all! 'Twas in + the direction of the Pond they vanished. (_Peeping anxiously between + trees._) Are they still in sight?... Yes, I see them! BRUNETTE has + reached the water's edge.... What is she purposing! Now she kneels on + the rough gravel; she is making TIMBURINA kneel too! How calm and + resolute they both appear! (_Shuddering._) I dare not look + further--but, ah, I must--_I must!_... Horror! I saw her boots flash + for an instant in the bright sunlight; and now the ripples have + closed, smiling over her little black stockings!... Help!--save her, + somebody!--help!... Joy! a gentleman has appeared on the scene--how + handsome, how brave he looks! He has taken in the situation at a + glance! With quiet composure he removes his coat--oh, _don't_ trouble + about folding it up!--and why, _why_ remove your gloves, when there is + not a moment to be lost? Now, with many injunctions, he entrusts his + watch to a bystander, who retires, overcome by emotion. And now--oh, + gallant, heroic soul!--now he is sending his toy terrier into the + seething water! (_Straining eagerly forward._) Ah, the dog paddles + bravely out--he has reached the spot ... oh, he has passed it!--he is + trying to catch a duck! Dog, dog, _is_ this a time for pursuing ducks? + At last he understands--he dives ... he brings up--agony! a small tin + cup! Again ... _this_ time, surely--what, only an old pot-hat!... Oh, + this dog is a fool! And still the Round Pond holds its dread secret! + Once more ... yes--no, yes, it _is_ TIMBURINA! Thank Heaven, she yet + breathes! But BRUNETTE? Can she have stuck in the mud at the bottom? + Ha, she, too, is rescued--saved--ha-ha-ha!--saved, saved, saved! + + [_Swoons hysterically, amid deafening applause._ + + _Enter_ FRANK MANLY, _supporting_ BRUNETTE, _who carries_ TIMBURINA. + + _Bl._ (_wildly_). What, do I see you safe, beloved BRUNETTE? + + _Br._ Yes, thanks to his courage, I'm not even _wet_! + + _Frank_ (_modestly_). Nay, spare your compliments. To rescue Beauty, + When in distress, is every hero's duty! + + _Bl._ BRUNETTE, forgive--I'm cured of all my folly! + + _Br._ (_heartily_). Of course I will, my dear, and so will dolly! + + [_Grand Trio and Step-dance, with "tippity-tappity," and + "clickity-clack" refrain as finale._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THE NEW GERMAN RIFLE." + +(A FANCY SKETCH OF ITS STARTLING APPEARANCE.) + +"The Regulations for the employment of the new German Infantry Rifle +have just been published. With regard to the capabilities of the new +rifle, the Regulations assert, that in this arm the German Infantry +possesses a weapon standing fully abreast of the time with a range such +as was heretofore held to be impossible of attainment."--_Standard, Jan. +25._] + + * * * * * + +ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. + +COMMEMORATION BIRTHDAY CONCERT.--The programme you are preparing, after +the fashion set the other evening in St. James's Hall, at an +entertainment organised in honour of the birthday of the poet BURNS, for +the purpose of paying a similar tribute to the memory of his great +fellow-countryman, Sir WALTER SCOTT, certainly promises well. As you +very truly point out that, as at the Concert which you are taking as +your model, though the name of BURNS was tacked on to nearly every item +in the programme, as if he had been responsible for the words, music and +all, it did not seem limited to the Poet's work alone, you might +certainly allow yourself the latitude you propose in arranging your own +scheme. The fact that, at the Burns Celebration, M. NACHEZ played his +own Hungarian dances, the connection between which and the Poet's +birthday is not, at first sight, entirely obvious, and that another +gentleman, with equal appropriateness, favoured the company with "_The +Death of Nelson_," on the trombone, seems certainly to give you a +warrant for the introduction you contemplate making, in commemoration of +Sir WALTER, of the Chinese Chopstick Mazurka, and the Woora-woora +Cannibal Islanders side-knife and sledge-hammer war-dance. It may of +course be possible, in a remote way, to introduce them, as you suggest, +into _Old Mortality_, but we should think you would be nearer the mark +with that other item of your programme, that associates _Jem Baggs_ with +_The Lay of the Last Minstrel_. Your idea of accepting and utilising the +offer of the GIRALFI family to introduce their Drawing-room +Entertainment into your programme seems excellent, and has certainly as +much in common with the Birthday of Sir WALTER SCOTT as the "_Death of +Nelson_," on the trombone, has with that of the distinguished Novelist's +great brother Poet. There is no reason, as you further point out, why +you should not organise a whole Series of Commemorative Birthday +Entertainments, as you think of doing, on the same plan, and with +BEETHOVEN, MACAULAY, Dr. JOHNSON, and WARREN HASTINGS, the celebrities +you mention, to begin upon, you ought to have no difficulty in working +in the solo on the big drum, the performance of the Learned Hyæna, the +Japanese Twenty-feet Bayonet-jump, and the other equally appropriate +attractions with which you are already in communication. Anyhow, begin +with Sir WALTER SCOTT, following the St. James's Hall lead, and let us +hear how you get on. + + * * * + +STRIKING WEDDING PRESENTS.--As you seem to think that a list of the +presents made to your young friends who are about to be married will in +all probability be published in some of the Society papers, "with the +names of the donors," we think, on the whole, we would advise you _not_ +to give them, as you seem rather inclined to do, those three hundred +weight of cheap sardines of which you became possessed through a seizure +of your agents for arrears of rent. You might certainly present them +with the disabled omnibus horse that came into your hands on the same +occasion. Horses are sometimes given as wedding presents. There were +four down in a list of gifts at a fashionable marriage only last week. +But, of course, it would not suit your purpose to appear as the donor of +a "damaged" creature. We think, perhaps, it would be wiser to accept the +five pounds offered you through the veterinary surgeon you mention, and +lay out the money, as you suggest, in sixteen hundred Japanese fans. If +it falls through, and you find the horse still on your hands, there is +no need to mention its association with the omnibus. "Mr. JOHN +JOHNSON--a riding horse," doesn't read badly. We almost think this is +better than the fans. Think it over. + + * * * * * + +THE LUXURY OF PANTOMIME. + +One day last week, after a struggle for life, Her Majesty's Theatre was +shut up, five hundred persons, so it was stated, lost employment, and +the _Cinderella_ family, proud sisters and all, nay, even the gallant +Prince himself, were turned adrift. Smiling, at the helm of the Drury +Lane Ship, stands AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS, who sees, not unmoved, the wreck +of "Her Majesty's Opposition," and murmurs to himself as _Jack and the +Beanstalk_ continues its successful course, "This is, indeed, the +survival of the fittest," and, charitably, DRURIOLANUS sends out a +life-boat entitled "Benefit Performance" to the rescue of the +shipwrecked crew. _Ave Cæsar_! + +From this disaster there results a moral, "which, when found," it would +be as well to "make a note of." It is this: as evidently London will +not, or cannot, support two Pantomimes, several Circuses, and a Show +like BARNUM'S, all through one winter, why try the experiment? +especially when the _luxe_ of Pantomime, fostered by DRURIOLANUS, is so +enormous, that any competitor must be forced into ruinous and even +reckless extravagance, in order to enter into anything like rivalry with +The Imperator who "holds the field" for Pantomime, just as he holds "The +Garden" for Opera, against all comers. + +These rival establishments only do harm to one another, spoil the public +by indulging their taste for magnificent spectacle, increasing in +gorgeousness every year, until true Pantomime will be overlaid with +jewelled armour, crushed under velvet and gold, and be lying helpless +under the weight of its own gorgeosity. We should question whether the +Olympian BARNUM has done much good for himself, seeing how gigantic the +expenses must be; and certainly he can't have done good to the theatres. +As to Shows, "The more the merrier" does not hold good. "The fewer the +better" is nearer the mark in every sense, and perhaps the experience of +this season may suggest even to DRURIOLANUS to give the public still +more fun for their money (and there is plenty of genuine fun in _Jack +and the Beanstalk_), with less show, in less time, and at consequently +less expense to himself, and with, therefore, bigger profits. We shall +see. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: + + "Mr. GLADSTONE desires that ALL LETTERS, &c., should be addressed to + him at 10, St. James's Square, London."--_Standard, Jan. 25._ + +Why should "all letters" be addressed to Mr. GLADSTONE? Isn't anybody +else to have any? How about Valentine's Day? Will "_all letters_" be +addressed to him then? If so--then the above Illustration conveys only a +feeble idea of the result.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: FELINE AMENITIES. + +_Fair Hostess_ (_to Mrs. Masham, who is looking her very best_). +"HOWDYDO, DEAR? I HOPE YOU'RE NOT SO TIRED AS YOU _LOOK_!"] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE FINISHING TOUCH; OR, PREPARING FOR MR. SPEAKER'S +PARTY. + +"THANK GOODNESS, HE'S READY AT LAST!"] + + * * * * * + +THE FINISHING TOUCH; + +OR, PREPARING FOR MR. SPEAKER'S PARTY. + +_Anxious Old (Legal) Nurses loquitur_:-- + + Ah! he's ready now, thanks be! + But a plaguier child than he + I am sure we Nusses three + Never dressed. + But at last we have got through; + Well-curled hair, and sash of blue! + Yes, we rather think he'll do, + Heaven be blessed! + + Ah! the awful time it took! + Never mind; by hook or crook + We have togged him trimly. Look! + There he stands! + His long wailings nearly hushed, + Buttoned, pinned, oiled, combed and brushed, + And his tight glove-fingers crushed + On his hands. + + Does us credit, don't you think? + How the chit would writhe and shrink, + Get his garments in a kink + Every way! + Awful handful, hot and heady, + Shuffling round, ne'er standing steady, + Feared we'd never get him ready + For the day. + + Mr. SPEAKER'S Party,--yes! + Hope he'll be a great success; + His clean face and natty dress + _Ought_ to please. + But there'll be no end of eyes + On his buttons, hooks, and ties; + Prompt to chaff and criticise, + Tear and tease. + + There'll be many an Irish boy + Who will find it his chief joy + To upset and to annoy + The young Turk; + And, with no particular call, + Try to make him squeal and squall, + Disarrange him, after all + Our hard work. + + Not to mention other lads, + Regular rowdy little Rads, + Full of ill-conditioned fads, + And mean spite; + Who will pinch and pull the hair + Of our charge who's standing there, + After all our patient care + Right and tight. + + For we know they don't like _us_, + And they're sure to scold and cuss + The tired three, and raise a fuss + And a pother + About Hopeful here. Heigho! + But he's ready, dears, to go. + Ah! they little little know + All our bother! + + On our hands heaven knows how long + We have had him. 'Twould be wrong + To indulge in language strong; + But how hearty + Is our joy that we have done! + There now, REPPY, off you run! + Only hope you'll have good fun + At the Party! + + * * * * * + +TO AN OLD FRIEND WITH A NEW WIG. + +Delighted to hear that our friend CHARLES HALL, A.D.C., Trin. Coll. +Cam., and Q.C., is likely to be made a Judge. Where will he sit? +Admiralty, Probate, and Divorce Court, where wreckage cases of ships and +married lives are heard? Health to the Judge that shall be, with a song +and chorus, if you please, Gentlemen, to the ancient air of "_Samuel +Hall_," revived for this occasion only:-- + + His name it is CHARLES HALL, + A.D.C. and Q.C., + His name it is CHARLES HALL. + In cases great and small + He's shone out since his call, + All agree. + + In Court of Admiral_tee_ + Did he drudge, (_bis_) + In Court of Admiraltee, + 'Bout lights and wrecks,--will he + Henceforth be less at sea + As a Judge? + +_Chorus._ + +(_To quite another tune, i.e., the refrain of_ GEORGE GROSSMITH'S _song, +"How I became an Actor."_) + + And each of his friends makes this remark, + (Retort he may with "Fudge!") + "Now wasn't I the first to say, you're sure + Some day to be a Judge!" + +It will be a touching spectacle, as, indeed, it always is to the +reflective mind, to see the new Judge sitting among the wrecks, like +"Marius among the Ruins." Fine subject for Sir FREDERICK, P.R.A., in the +next Academy Exhibition. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A DISTINCTION WITHOUT A DIFFERENCE (IN RESULT). + +"HULLO, JIM, WHATEVER MADE YOU COME OFF?"--"WHY, THE BRUTE +BUCKED!"--"BUCKED! NONSENSE, MAN, SHE ONLY COUGHED!"] + + * * * * * + +KICKED! + +(_By the Foot of Clara Groomley._) + +IN FOUR CHAPTERS.--III. + +Nothing done! The whole Detective force of London, having nothing better +to do, were placed at my disposal, and, after three weeks' search, they +found a girl called SMITH; but it was the wrong one. My darling is +_blonde_, and this was a dark, almost a black, SMITH. I came back to +Ryde in a passion and a third-class carriage. I find from Mademoiselle +that Miss SMITH has not yet returned. + +[Illustration: ] + +JAMES seemed pleased to see me, but he noticed that in my anxiety and +preoccupation I had forgotten to have my hat ironed. The hotel is quite +full, and I am to sleep in the Haunted Room to-night. + + * * * + +I am not a hysterical man, and this is not a neurotic story. It is, as a +matter of fact, the same old rot to which the shilling shockers have +made us accustomed. I cannot account in any way for my experiences last +night in the Haunted Room, but they certainly were not due to +nervousness. I had not been asleep long before I had a most curious and +vivid dream. I felt that I was not in the hotel, and that at the same +time I was not out of it. I had a curious sense of being everywhere in +general, and nowhere in particular. + +I saw before me a gorgeously furnished room. On the tiger-skin rug +before the fire was a basket with a crewel-worked chair-back spread over +it. _What was in the basket?_ Again and again I asked myself that +question. I felt like a long-division sum, and a cold shiver went down +my quotient. + +In one corner of the room stood a man of about thirty, with a handsome, +wicked face. One hand rested on the drawer of a writing-table. Slowly he +drew from it a folded paper, and read, in a harsh, raucous voice:-- + +"'To cleaning and repairing one----' No, that's not it." + +He selected another paper. Ah, it was the right one this time! + +"'Memorandum of Aunt JANE'S Will.' 'All property to go to ALICE SMITH, +unless Aunt JANE'S poodle, _Tommy Atkins_, dies before ALICE SMITH comes +of age. In which case, it all goes to me.' I remember making that note +when the will was read. And now"--he glanced at the covered +basket--"_Tommy_'s kicked the bucket. Well, he stood in my way. Who's to +know? But there must be no _post-mortem_, no 'vet' fetched in. Happy +thought--I'll have the brute stuffed." He knelt down by the side of the +basket, and slowly drew back the covering. "Ah!" he said--"it's cruel +work." + +Did he refer to the chair-back? or did he refer to the way in which, for +the sake of gain, an honest dog had been MURDERED? For there before my +eyes lay the dead poodle, _Tommy Atkins_! + +"ALICE loses all her money," he continued, "but that doesn't matter. She +tells me that she's picked up no end of a swell down at Ryde, and he may +marry her. The question is--will he?" Once more I felt like a division +sum. I yearned to call out loudly, and answer with a decided negative; +but no words came. My strength was gone. I was utterly worked out, and +there was no remainder. + +When I came to myself, I found JAMES, the waiter, standing by my bedside +with a gentleman whom I did not know. JAMES introduced him to me as a +Mr. ALKALOID, a photographer who was stopping in the hotel. Mr. ALKALOID +had been woken up by a wild shriek for a decided negative, and had +rushed down to see if he could do a little business. "Take you by the +electric light," he said; "just as you are,"--I was in my night-dress +and the old, old hat, the rim of which had been slightly +sprained,--"perfectly painless process, and money returned if not +satisfactory." I thanked him warmly, and apologised for having disturbed +him. + +I went to London on the following day. I felt it my positive duty to +explain that I should always regard ALICE SMITH as a sister, but nothing +more. + +I had quite forgotten that I did not know the house where ALICE SMITH +lived, and the poodle dog lay dead. + +(_Here ends the Narrative of_ CYRIL MUSH.) + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE SUMMONS TO DUTY. + +(_Design for a Parliamentary Cartoon, illustrating the Life of a Country +Member._)] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "EXCLUSIVE DEALING." + +_Irish Landlord_ (_boycotted_). "PAT, MY MAN, I'M IN NO END OF A HURRY. +PUT THE PONY TO, AND DRIVE ME TO THE STATION, AND I'LL GIVE YE HALF A +SOVEREIGN!" + +_Pat_ (_Nationalist, but needy_). "OCH SHURE, IT'S MORE THAN ME LOIFE IS +WORTH TO BE SEEN DROIVING _YOU_, YER HONOUR. BUT"--(_slily_)--"IF YER +HONOUR WOULD JIST DROIVE _ME_, MAYBE IT'S MESELF THAT MOIGHT VENTURE +IT!"] + + * * * * * + +"SWEET-MARJORIE!" + +[Illustration: Change for a Tenor. Wilfred of Huntington is succeeded by +that Man of Mark--Tapley.] + +Take it all in all, _Marjorie_ at the Prince of Wales' is a very +satisfactory production. The subject is English, the music is English, +and the "book" is English too. So when we applaud the new Opera, we have +the satisfaction of knowing that our cheers are given in the cause of +native talent triumphant. This is appropriate to the "time" of the play +(the commencement of the thirteenth century), which is the very epoch +when the Saxons were beginning to hold their own in the teeth of their +Norman conquerors. But leaving patriotism out of the question (a matter +which, it is to be feared, is not likely to influence Stalls, Pit, and +Gallery materially for a very lengthened period), the Opera _quâ_ Opera +is a very good one. The company is strong--so strong, that it hears the +loss of an accomplished songstress like Miss HUNTINGTON without severely +suffering. It is true that an excellent substitute for the lady has been +found in that tenor with the cheerful name, Mr. MARK TAPLEY, whose notes +are certainly worth their weight in gold; but leaving the +representatives of _Wilfred_ "outside the competition," the remainder of +the _Dramatis Personæ_ are excellent. They work well together, and +consequently the _ensemble_ is in the highest degree pleasing. + +Assistance of rather a graver character than usually associated with +comic opera is naturally afforded by Mr. HAYDYN COFFIN. Miss PHYLLIS +BROUGHTON is introduced not only to sing but to dance, and performs the +latter accomplishment with a grace not to be surpassed, and only to be +equalled by Miss KATE VAUGHAN. Mr. ASHLEY, now happily returned to the +melodious paths from which he strayed to play in pieces of the calibre +of _Pink Dominoes_, seems quite at home in the character of _Sir +Simon_--not "the Cellarer," but rather, "the sold one." Mr. MONKHOUSE, +whose name and personality go to prove that a cowl does not preclude its +occasional occupation by a wag, is most amusing as _Gosric_. Mr. ALBERT +JAMES is a lively jester, whose quips and cranks might have been of +considerable value to Mr. JOSEPH MILLER when that literary droll was +engaged in compiling his comic classic. Miss D'ARVILLE and Madame AMADI +both work with a will, and find a way to public favour. The dresses are +in excellent taste, and the scenery capital. + +That the _mise en scène_ is perfect, goes without saying, as this Opera +has been produced by that past master of stage-direction, the one and +only AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS. The dialogue is sufficiently pointed--not too +pointed, but pointed enough. It does not require a knowledge of the +niceties of the law, the regulations of the British army, or a keen +appreciation of the subtlest subtleties of logic to fully understand it. +It is amusing, and provocative of innocent laughter, which, after all, +seems to be a sufficient recommendation for words spoken within the +walls of a play-house. The music is full of melody--"quite killing," as +a young lady wittily observed, on noticing that the name of the Composer +was SLAUGHTER. So _Marjorie_ may be fairly said not only to have +deserved success, but (it is satisfactory to be able to add) also to +have attained it. + + ONE WHO HAS PRACTISED AT THE MUSICAL BAR. + + * * * * * + +STATESMEN AT HOME. + +DCXLIII. THE RIGHT HON. W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P., AT HAWARDEN. + +[Illustration: ] + +As you approach the historic home of the great English Statesman who is +to be your host to-day, you become conscious of the fact that there are +two Hawarden Castles. Moreover, as young HERBERT pleasantly remarks a +little later in the day, "You must draw a Hawarden-fast line between the +two." One, standing on a hill dominating a far-reaching tract of level +country, was already so old in the time of EDWARD THE FIRST that it was +found necessary to rebuild it. Looking through your Domesday Book (which +you always carry with you on these excursions), you find the mansion +referred to under the style of Haordine. This, antiquarians assume, is +the Saxonised form of the earlier British _Y Garthddin_, which, being +translated, means "The hill-fort on the projecting ridge." + +When WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR came over, bringing with him a following the +numerical proportions of which increase as the years roll by, he found +the Fort on the Hill held by EDWARD of Mercia, and deemed it convenient +to leave it in his possession. The Castle played its part in English +history down to the time, now 130 years gone by, when it came into the +hands of Sir JOHN GLYNN, and thence through long descent became an +inheritance of the gracious lady who, with cambric cap-strings streaming +in the free air of the Marches, joins your host in welcoming you. + +It is, however, not on the steps of the old castle of which Prince +LLEWELLYN was once lord that you are thus received. By the side of the +old ruin has grown up another Hawarden Castle, a roomy mansion, +statelily stuccoed, with sham turrets run up, buttresses, embrasures, +portholes, and portcullises, putting to shame the rugged, looped and +windowless ruin that still stands on the projecting ridge. This dates +only from the beginning of the century, and, looking upon it, your face +glows with honest pride, as you think how much better the generation +near your own made for itself dwelling-houses compared with the earlier +English. + +Whilst you stand musing on these things you are conscious of a whishing +sound, and a breath of swiftly moving cool air wantonly strikes your +cheek. You look up and behold! there is your host, axe in hand, +playfully performing a number of passes over your unconscious head. His +dress is designed admirably to suit the exercise. Coat and waistcoat are +doffed; the immortal collars are turned down, displaying the columnar +throat and the brawny chest; the snow-white shirt-sleeves are turned up +to the elbow, disclosing biceps that SAMSON would envy and SANDOW covet. +His braces are looped on either side of his supple hips, and his right +hand grasps the axe which, a moment ago had been performing over your +head a series of evolutions which, remarkable for the strength and +agility displayed, were, perhaps, scarcely desirable for daily +repetition. + +"Don't be frightened, TOBY M.P.," said the full rich voice so familiar +in the House of Commons; "it's our wild woodsman's way of welcoming the +coming guest. What do you think of my costume? Seen it before? Ah! +_yes_, the photographs. _Carte de visite style_, _10s. 6d._ a dozen; +Cabinet size, a guinea. I have been photographed several times as you +will observe." + +And, indeed, as your host leads you along the stately passages, through +the storied rooms, you find his photograph everywhere. The tables are +covered with them, showing your host in all attitudes and costumes. +"Yes," he says, with a sigh, "I think I have marched up to the camera's +mouth as often as most men of my years." + +Ascending the rustic staircase which leads from the garden, WILLIAM +EWART GLADSTONE takes you past the library into the drawing-room, in the +upper parts of the leaded windows of which are inserted panels of rare +old glass, cunningly obtained by melting superfluous Welsh ale bottles. +He leads you to a table, as round as that at which a famous Conference +was held, and points to a little ivory painting. It shows a chubby +little boy some two years of age, with rather large head and broad +shoulders, sitting at the knee of a young nymph approaching her fifth +year. On her knee is a book, and the chubby boy, with dark hair falling +low over his forehead, his great brown eyes staring frankly at you, +points with his finger to a passage. When you learn that this is a +portrait of your host and his sister taken in the year 1811, you +naturally come to the conclusion that the young lady has, for party +purposes, been misquoting some passages in her brother's speech, and +that he, having produced an authorised record of his address, is +triumphantly pointing to the text in controversion of her statement. + +Your host, chopping grimly at the furniture as he passes along--here +dexterously severing the leg of a Chippendale chair, and there hacking a +piece off a Louis Quatorze couch--leads the way to an annexe he has just +built for the reception of his treasured books. From the outside this +excrescence on the Castle has but a poverty-stricken look. It is, to +tell the truth, made of corrugated iron. But that is a cloak that +cunningly covers an interior of rare beauty and rich design. Arras of +cloth of gold hangs loosely on the walls, whilst here and there, on the +far-reaching floor, gleams the low light of a faded Turkey carpet. Open +tables, covered with broad cloths of crimson velvet, embroidered and +fringed with gold, carry innumerable Blue Books. On marble tables, +supported on carved and gilded frames, stand priceless vases, filled +with rare flowers. In crystal flagons you detect the sheen of amber +light (which may be sherry wine), whilst the ear is lulled with the +sound of fountains dispensing perfumes as of Araby. In an alcove, +chastely draped with violent violet velvet, the grey apes swing, and the +peacocks preen, on fretted pillar and jewelled screen. Horologes, to +chime the hours, and even the quarters, uprise from tables of +ebony-and-mother-of-pearl. Cabinets from Ind and Venice, of filligree +gold and silver, enclose complete sets of _Hansard's Parliamentary +Debates_; whilst lamps of silver, suspended from pendant pinnacles in +the fretted ceiling, shed a soft light over the varied mass of colour. + +Casting himself down lightly by a cabinet worked with Dutch beads +interspersed with seed-pearls, and toying with the gnarled handle of the +axe, the Right Hon. WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE tells you the story of his +life. At the outset you are a little puzzled to gather where exactly he +was born. At first you think it was in Scotland. Anon some town in +England claims the honour. Then Wales is incidentally mentioned, and +next the tearful voice of Erin claims her son. But, as the story goes +forward with long majestic stride, these difficulties fade in the +glamour of the Old Man's eloquence, and when you awake and find your +host has not yet got beyond the second course--the fish, as it were, of +the intellectual banquet--you say you will call again. + +Mention of the three courses naturally suggests dinner, and as you +evidently enjoy the monopoly of the mental association, you take your +leave, perhaps regretting that among his wild woodsman accessories your +host does not seem to include the midday chop. + + * * * * * + +GOLD-TIPPED cigarettes seem just now to be "the swagger thing." "Ah!" +Master TOMMY sighed, as he set off for school with only five shillings +in his pocket, in consequence of all his dearest--and nearest--relatives +being laid up with the prevailing epidemic, "Ah, how I should like to be +one of those cigarettes, and then I should be tipped with gold." + + * * * * * + + NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., + Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no + case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and + Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no + exception. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30033 *** diff --git a/30033-h/30033-h.htm b/30033-h/30033-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5e3308e --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/30033-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1395 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98, February 8, 1890, by Various</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .center {text-align: center;} + td {padding-left: 1em;} + td.note {text-align: left;font-size: 0.9em; font-weight: normal; border: 1px dashed; padding: 1em;} + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.medium {width: 76%;} + html>body hr.medium {margin-right: 12%; margin-left: 12%; width: 76%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + div.centered {text-align: center;} /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 1 */ + div.centered table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;} + /* work around for IE centering with CSS problem part 2 */ + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0;} + + .poem + {margin-left:35%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + .poem1 + {margin-left:20%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem1 .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem1 p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem1 p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem1 p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem1 p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem1 p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem1 p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + .direction {margin-left:30%; text-indent:-2em;} + + .figure, .figcenter, .figright, .figleft + {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img, .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img + {border: none;} + .figure p, .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p + {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right; width: auto;} + .figleft {float: left; width: auto; margin: 1em; padding: 0;} + + .figleft1 {float: left; clear: left; padding-right: .5em; + padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 0em; width: 100%;} + .figleft2 {float: left; clear: left; padding-right: .5em; + padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 0em; width: 100%;} + + .img {margin: 0; padding-right: 0;} + .div {margin: 0; padding: 0;} + + p.author {text-align: right;} + + .regards {text-align: right; + margin-right: 4em;} + + hr.pg { width: 100%; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + border: solid black; + height: 5px; } + pre {font-size: 85%; } + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30033 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98, +February 8, 1890, by Various, Edited by F. C. (Francis Cowley) Burnand</h1> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + +<h2>VOLUME 98.</h2> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2><span class="smcap">February 8, 1890.</span></h2> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> + +<h2>UNTILED; OR, THE MODERN ASMODEUS.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>"Très volontiers," repartit le démon. "Vous aimez les tableaux +changeans: je veux vous contenter."</p> + +<p><i>Le Diable Boiteux.</i></p></blockquote> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/061.png"> +<img src="images/061.png" width="100%" alt="Cartoon" /></a> +</div> + +<hr /><br /> + +<center>XIX.</center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"A Late Symposium! Yet they're not engaged</p> +<p class="i0">In compotations. Argument hath raged</p> +<p class="i2">Four hours by the dial;</p> +<p class="i0">But zealotry of party, creed, or clique</p> +<p class="i0">Marks not the clock, whilst of polemic pique</p> +<p class="i2">There's one unvoided vial."</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">So smiled the Shade. Dusk coat and gleaming head,</p> +<p class="i0">Viewed from above, before my gaze outspread</p> +<p class="i2">Like a black sea bespotted</p> +<p class="i0">With bare pink peaks of coral isles; all eyes</p> +<p class="i0">Were fixed on one who reeled out rhapsodies</p> +<p class="i2">In diction double-shotted.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">A long and lofty room, with pillars cold,</p> +<p class="i0">And spacious walls of chocolate and gold;</p> +<p class="i2">The solid sombre glory</p> +<p class="i0">Of tint oppressive and of tasteless shine,</p> +<p class="i0">Dear to the modern British Philistine,</p> +<p class="i2">Saint, sceptic, Whig, or Tory.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"No Samson-strength of intellect or taste</p> +<p class="i0">Shall bow the pillars of this temple chaste</p> +<p class="i2">Of ugliness and unction.</p> +<p class="i0">What is't they argue lengthily and late?</p> +<p class="i0">The flame of patriot passion for the State</p> +<p class="i2">Fires this polemic function.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"A caitiff Government has done a thing</p> +<p class="i0">To make its guardian-angel droop her wing</p> +<p class="i2">In sickened indignation:</p> +<p class="i0">That is, has striven to strengthen its redoubts,</p> +<p class="i0">Perfidious 'Ins,' to foil the eager 'Outs.'</p> +<p class="i2">Hence endless execration.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Hence all Wire-pullerdom is up in arms;</p> +<p class="i0">With clarion-toned excursions and alarms</p> +<p class="i2">The rival camp is ringing.</p> +<p class="i0">Hence perky commoners and pompous peers,</p> +<p class="i0">'Midst vehement applause and volleying cheers,</p> +<p class="i2">Stale platitudes are stringing.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"The British Public—some five hundred strong—</p> +<p class="i0">Is here to 'strangle a Gigantic Wrong,'—</p> +<p class="i2">So <span class="smcap">Marabout</span> is saying.</p> +<p class="i0">Watch his wide waistcoat and his wandering eyes,</p> +<p class="i0">His stamping boots of Brobdingnagian size,</p> +<p class="i2">Clenched hands, and shoulders swaying.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"A great Machine-man, <span class="smcap">Marabout!</span> He dotes</p> +<p class="i0">On programmes hectographed and Party votes.</p> +<p class="i2">For all his pasty pallor</p> +<p class="i0">And shifty glance, he has the mob's regard,</p> +<p class="i0">And he is deemed by council, club, and ward</p> +<p class="i2">A mighty man of valour.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"A purchased henchman to a Star of State?</p> +<p class="i0">Perhaps. But here he'll pose and perorate,</p> +<p class="i2">A Brutus vain and voluble.</p> +<p class="i0">And who, like <span class="smcap">Marabout</span>, with vocal flux</p> +<p class="i0">Of formulas, can settle every <i>crux</i></p> +<p class="i2">That wisdom finds insoluble?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"'Hear! hear!' That shibboleth of shallow souls</p> +<p class="i0">Around his ears in clamorous cadence rolls;</p> +<p class="i2">He swells, he glows, he twinkles;</p> +<p class="i0">The sapient Chairman wags his snowy pate,</p> +<p class="i0">Whilst cynic triumph, cautious yet elate,</p> +<p class="i2">Lurks laughing in his wrinkles.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"And there sits honest zeal, absorbed, intent,</p> +<p class="i0">And cheerfully credulous. <span class="smcap">Marabout</span> has bent</p> +<p class="i2">To the Commercial Dagon</p> +<p class="i0">He publicly derides; but many here</p> +<p class="i0">Will toast 'his genuine grit, his manly cheer,'</p> +<p class="i2">Over a friendly flagon.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Look on him later! There he snugly sits</p> +<p class="i0">With his rich patron. Were it war of wits</p> +<p class="i2">That wakes their crackling chuckles,</p> +<p class="i0">They scarce were heartier. It would strangely shock</p> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marabout's</span> worshippers to hear him mock</p> +<p class="i2">The 'mob' to which he truckles.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Truckles in platform speech. In club-room chat</p> +<p class="i0">With <span class="smcap">Wagstaff</span>, shrewd wire-puller, flushed and fat,</p> +<p class="i2">Or <span class="smcap">Dodd</span>, the rich dry-salter,</p> +<p class="i0">You'd hear how supply he can shift and twist,</p> +<p class="i0">How <span class="smcap">Brutus</span> with 'the base Monopolist'</p> +<p class="i2">Can calmly plot and palter,"</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Whilst <span class="smcap">Marabouts</span> abound, O Shade," I cried,</p> +<p class="i0">"What wonder men are 'Mugwumps?'" Then my guide</p> +<p class="i2">Laughed low. "The æsthetic villa</p> +<p class="i0">Finds Shopdom's zeal on its fine senses jar;</p> +<p class="i0">Yet the Mugwumps Charybdis stands not far</p> +<p class="i2">From the Machine-man's Scylla.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Culture derides the Caucus for its heat,</p> +<p class="i0">Its hate—its absence of the Light and Sweet,</p> +<p class="i2">So jays might flout the vulture.</p> +<p class="i0">Partisan bitterness and purblind haste?</p> +<p class="i0">Come, view the haunts of dilettante Taste,</p> +<p class="i2">The coteries of Culture!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Here <i>Savants</i> wrangle o'er a fossil bone,</p> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Champer</span>, with curling lip and caustic tone,</p> +<p class="i2">At <span class="smcap">Ruddiman</span> is railing.</p> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Champer</span> knows everything, from <span class="smcap">Plato's</span> text</p> +<p class="i0">To Protoplasm; yet his soul is vext,</p> +<p class="i2">His cheeks with spite are paling.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Why? Because <span class="smcap">Ruddiman</span>, the rude, robust,</p> +<p class="i0">Has pierced with logic's vigorous vulgar thrust</p> +<p class="i2">The shield of icy polish.</p> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Champer</span>, in print, is hot on party-hate,</p> +<p class="i0">Here his one aim is in the rough debate</p> +<p class="i2">His rival to demolish.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Sweet Reasonableness? Another host</p> +<p class="i0">Of sages see! The habits of the Ghost,</p> +<p class="i2">The Astral Body's action,</p> +<p class="i0">Absorb them, eager. Does more furious fire</p> +<p class="i0">The councils of the Caucusites inspire,</p> +<p class="i2">Or light the feuds of faction?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"And there? They argue out with toil intense</p> +<p class="i0">A 'cosmic' poet's esoteric sense,</p> +<p class="i2">Of which a world, unwitting,</p> +<p class="i0">Recks nothing. Yet how terribly they'd trounce</p> +<p class="i0">Parliament's pettifogging, and denounce</p> +<p class="i2">'Political hair-splitting'!"</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"O Shade, the difference is but small, one dreads.</p> +<p class="i0">Betwixt logomachists at loggerheads,</p> +<p class="i2">Whether their theme be bonnets</p> +<p class="i0">Or British interests. Zealot ardour burns</p> +<p class="i0">Scarce fiercer o'er Electoral Returns</p> +<p class="i2">Than over <span class="smcap">Shakspeare's</span> Sonnets.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"At <span class="smcap">Marabout</span> the Mugwump sniffs and sneers;</p> +<p class="i0">Gregarious 'votes of thanks' and sheepish 'cheers'</p> +<p class="i2">Stir him to satire scornful.</p> +<p class="i0">But when sleek Culture apes, irate and loud,</p> +<p class="i0">The follies of the Caucus and the Crowd,</p> +<p class="i2">The spectacle is mournful."</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"True!" smiled the Shade. "Yon supercilious sage,</p> +<p class="i0">With patent prejudice and petty rage,</p> +<p class="i2">Penning a tart jobation</p> +<p class="i0">On practised Statesmen, must as much amuse</p> +<p class="i0">As Statesmen-sciolists venting vapid views</p> +<p class="i2">On rocks and revelation."</p> +</div></div> + +<p class="author">(<i>To be continued.</i>)</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE SOUTH-EASTERN ALPHABET.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">A was the Anger evinced far and wide;</p> +<p class="i0">B was the Boat-train delayed by the tide;</p> +<p class="i0">C was the Chairman who found nothing wrong;</p> +<p class="i0">D was the Driver who sang the same song;</p> +<p class="i0">E was the Engine that stuck on the way;</p> +<p class="i0">F stood for Folkestone, reached late every day;</p> +<p class="i0">G was the Grumble to which this gave rise;</p> +<p class="i0">H was the Hubbub Directors despise;</p> +<p class="i0">I was the Ink over vain letters used;</p> +<p class="i0">J were the Junctions which some one abused;</p> +<p class="i0">K was the Kick "Protest" got for its crimes;</p> +<p class="i0">L were the Letters it wrote to the <i>Times</i>;</p> +<p class="i0">M was the Meeting that probed the affair;</p> +<p class="i0">N was the Nothing that came of the scare;</p> +<p class="i0">O was the Overdue train on its way;</p> +<p class="i0">P was the Patience that bore the delay;</p> +<p class="i0">Q was the Question which struck everyone;</p> +<p class="i0">R the Reply which could satisfy none;</p> +<p class="i0">S was the Station where passengers wait;</p> +<p class="i0">T was the Time that they're bound to be late;</p> +<p class="i0">U was the Up-train an hour overdue;</p> +<p class="i0">V was the Vagueness its movements pursue;</p> +<p class="i0">W stood for time's general Waste;</p> +<p class="i0">X for Ex-press that could never make haste;</p> +<p class="i0">Y for the Wherefore and Why of this wrong;</p> +<p class="i0">And Z for the Zanies who stand it so long!</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Startling for Gourmets.</span>—"<i>Bisques</i> disallowed." But it only refers to a +new rule of the Lawn Tennis Association; so "<i>Bisque d'écrevisses</i>" will +still be preserved to us among the <i>embarras de richesse</i>—(<i>i.e.</i> the +trouble caused subsequently by the richness,—<i>free trans.</i>)—of a +thoroughgoing French dinner.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> + +<h4>THE NEW TUNE.</h4> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/062.png"> +<img src="images/062.png" width="100%" alt="THE NEW TUNE." /></a> +</div> + +<center><i>Le Brav' Général tootles</i>:—</center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Heroes bold owe much to bold songs.</p> +<p class="i0">What's that? "Cannot sing the old songs"?</p> +<p class="i0">Pooh! 'Tis a Britannic ditty.</p> +<p class="i0">Truth, though, in it,—more's the pity!</p> +<p class="i0">"<i>En revenant de la Revue.</i>"</p> +<p class="i0">People tire of that—too true!</p> +<p class="i0">I must give them something new.</p> +<p class="i2">Played out, Frenchmen? <i>Pas de danger!</i></p> +<p class="i2">Whilst you've still your <i>Brav'</i> <span class="smcap">Boulanger</span>!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Do they think <span class="smcap">Boulanger</span> "mizzles,"</p> +<p class="i0">After all his recent "fizzles"?</p> +<p class="i0">(Most expressive slang, the Yankee!)</p> +<p class="i0"><i>Pas si bête</i>, my friends. No thank ye!</p> +<p class="i0">Came a cropper? Very true!</p> +<p class="i0">But I remount—my hobby's new,</p> +<p class="i0">So's my trumpet. Rooey-too!</p> +<p class="i2">France go softly? <i>Pas de danger!</i></p> +<p class="i2">Whilst she has her <i>Brav'</i> <span class="smcap">Boulanger</span>!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Cannot say her looks quite flatter.</p> +<p class="i0">Rather scornful. What's the matter?</p> +<p class="i0">Have you lost your recent fancy</p> +<p class="i0">For me and my charger prancy?</p> +<p class="i0">Turn those eyes this way, now <i>do</i>!</p> +<p class="i0">Mark my hobby,—not a screw!</p> +<p class="i0">Listen to my <i>chanson</i> new!</p> +<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Bismarck</span> flout you? <i>Pas de danger!</i></p> +<p class="i2"><i>He's</i> afraid of <i>Brav'</i> <span class="smcap">Boulanger</span>.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Of your smile be not so chary!</p> +<p class="i0">The sixteenth of February</p> +<p class="i0">Probably will prove my care is</p> +<p class="i0">The especial charge of Paris.</p> +<p class="i0">Then you'll know that I am true.</p> +<p class="i0">"<i>En revenant de la Revue</i>;"</p> +<p class="i0">Stick to me, I'll stick to you.</p> +<p class="i2">Part with you, sweet? <i>Pas de danger!</i></p> +<p class="i2">Not the game of <i>Brav'</i> <span class="smcap">Boulanger</span>!</p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE CAPTAIN OF THE "PARIS."</h2> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Captain <span class="smcap">Sharp</span>, of the Newhaven steamer, <i>Paris, you</i>'re no craven;</p> +<p class="i2">Grim and growling was the gale that you from your dead reckoning bore;</p> +<p class="i0">And, but for your brave behaving, she might never have made haven,</p> +<p class="i2">But have foundered in mid-Channel, or been wrecked on a lee-shore.</p> +<p class="i0">With your paddle-floats unfeathered, wonder was it that you weathered</p> +<p class="i2">Such a storm as that of Sunday, which upset our nerves on land,</p> +<p class="i0">Though in fire-side comfort tethered. How it blew, and blared, and blethered!</p> +<p class="i2">All your passengers, my Captain, say your pluck and skill were grand.</p> +<p class="i0">Much to men like you is owing, when wild storms around are blowing,</p> +<p class="i2">As they seem to have been doing since the opening of the year:</p> +<p class="i0">Howling, hailing, sleeting, snowing; but for captains calm and knowing,</p> +<p class="i2">Passage of our angry Channel were indeed a task of fear.</p> +<p class="i0">Well, you brought them safely through it, when not every man could do it,</p> +<p class="i2">And your passengers, my Captain, are inspired with gratitude.</p> +<p class="i0">Therefore, <i>Mr. Punch</i> thus thanks you, and right readily enranks you,</p> +<p class="i2">As a hero on the record of our briny island brood.</p> +<p class="i0">Verily the choice of "<i>Paris</i>" in this case proved right; and rare is</p> +<p class="i2">Fitness between name and nature such as that <i>you</i> illustrate.</p> +<p class="i0">Captain <span class="smcap">Sharp</span>! A proper <i>nomen</i>, and it proved a prosperous omen</p> +<p class="i2">To your passengers, whom <i>Punch</i> must on their luck congratulate.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h4><span class="smcap">On Board the Channel Steamer "Paris"</span><br /> (<i>Night of Saturday, January 25, +1890</i>).—"<span class="smcap">Sharp's</span> the word!"</h4> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/063a.png"> +<img src="images/063a.png" width="100%" alt="NOTHING LIKE A CHANGE" /></a> +<h4>NOTHING LIKE A CHANGE!</h4> +<p><i>Dr. Cockshure.</i> "<span class="smcap">My good Sir, what <i>you</i> want is thorough alteration of +Climate. The only thing to Cure <i>you</i> is a long Sea Voyage!</span>"</p> +<p><i>Patient.</i> "<span class="smcap">That's rather inconvenient. You see I'm only just Home from +a Sea Voyage round the World!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<p>The title of the second chapter of <i>The Days of the Dandies</i>, in +<i>Blackwood</i>, is calculated to excite curiosity,—it is, "Some Great +Beauties, and some Social Celebrities." After reading the article, I +think it would have been styled more correctly, "A Few Great Beauties." +However, it is discursively amusing and interesting. There is much truth +in the paper on Modern Mannish Maidens. I hold that no number of a +Magazine is perfect without a tale of mystery and wonder, or a +ghost-story of some sort. I hope I have not overlooked one of these in +any Magazine for this month that I have seen. Last month there was a +good one in <i>Macmillan</i>, and another in <i>Belgravia</i>. I forget their +titles, unfortunately, and have mislaid the Magazines. But +<i>After-thoughts</i>, in this month's <i>Macmillan</i>, is well worth perusal.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/063b.png"> +<img src="images/063b.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a> +</div> + +<p>My faithful "Co." has been looking through the works of reference. He +complains that <i>Dod's Peerage, Baronetage, and Knighthood for 1890</i> is +carelessly edited. He notes, as a sample, that Sir <span class="smcap">Henry Leland +Harrison</span>, who is said to have been born in 1857, is declared to have +entered the Indian Civil Service in 1860, when he was only three years +old—a manifest absurdity. As <i>Mr. Punch</i> himself pointed out this +<i>bêtise</i> in <i>Dod's &c., &c., for 1889</i>, it should have been corrected in +the new edition. "If this sort of thing continues," says the faithful +"Co.," "<i>Dod</i> will be known as <i>Dodder</i>, or even <i>Dodderer</i>!" Sir +<span class="smcap">Bernard Burke's</span> <i>Genealogical and Heraldic Dictionary of the Peerage and +Baronetage</i> is, in every sense, a noble volume, and seems to have been +compiled with the greatest care and accuracy. <span class="smcap">Kelly's</span> <i>Post Office +Directory</i>, of course, is a necessity to every man of letters. +<i>Whitaker's Almanack for 1890</i> seems larger than usual, and better than +ever. <span class="smcap">Webster's</span> <i>Royal Red Book</i>, and <span class="smcap">Gardiner's</span> <i>Royal Blue Book</i>, it +goes without saying, are both written by men of address. <i>The Century +Atlas and Gazetteer</i> is a book amongst a hundred. Finally, the <i>Era +Almanack for 1890</i>, conducted by <span class="smcap">Edward Ledger</span>, is, as usual, full of +information concerning things theatrical—some of it gay, some of it +sad. "Replies to Questions by Actors and Actresses" is the liveliest +contribution in the little volume. The Obituary contains the name of +"<span class="smcap">Edward Litt Leman Blanchard</span>," dramatist, novellist, and journalist, who +died on the 4th of September, 1889. It is hard to realise the <i>Era +Almanack</i> without the excellent contributions of poor "E. L. B.!"</p> + +<p>"Co." furnishes some other notes in a livelier strain:—</p> + +<p><i>Matthew Prior.</i> (<span class="smcap">Kegan Paul.</span>) If you are asked to go out in this +abominable weather, shelter yourself under the wing of Mr. <span class="smcap">Austin +Dobson</span>, and plead a prior engagement. (Ha! Ha!) You will find the +engagement both prior and profitable. Mr. <span class="smcap">Dobson's</span> introductory essay is +not only exhaustive, but in the highest degree interesting, and his +selection from the poems has been made with great taste and rare +discretion.</p> + +<p><i>In the Garden of Dreams.</i> The lack of poets of the softer sex has been +recently a subject of remark. Lady-novelists we have in super-abundance, +of lady-dramatists we have more than enough, of lady-journalists we have +legions—but lady-poets we have but few. Possibly, they flourish more on +the other side of the Atlantic. At any rate we have a good example of +the American Muse in the latest volume by Mrs. <span class="smcap">Louise Chandler Moulton</span>. +This little book is full of grace, its versification is melodious, and +has the genuine poetic ring about it, which is as rare as it is +acceptable. It can scarcely fail to find favour with English readers.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Baron de Book-Worms & Co.</span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Epidemiological.</h4> + +<p>Dear Mr. Punch,—The Camel is reported to be greatly instrumental in the +spread of cholera. This is evidently the Bacterian Camel, whose +humps—or is it hump?—have long been such a terror to those who really +don't care a bit how many humps an animal has.</p> +<p class="regards">Yours faithfully,</p> +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Humphry Campbell</span>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>To <span class="smcap">Those who get their Living by Dyeing</span>.—"Sweet Auburn!" exclaimed a +ruddy, aureate-haired lady of uncertain age,—anything, in fact, after +fifty,—"'Sweet Auburn!'" she repeated, musingly, "What does 'Sweet +Auburn' come from?" "Well," replied her husband, regarding her +<i>coiffure</i> with an air of uncertainty, "I'm not quite sure, but I think +'Sweet Auburn' should be <span class="smcap">Gray</span>."</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> + +<h2>MR. PUNCH'S MORAL MUSIC-HALL DRAMAS.</h2> + +<h3>No. V.—BRUNETTE AND BLANCHIDINE.</h3> + +<center><i>A Melodramatic Didactic Vaudeville, suggested by "The Wooden Doll and +the Wax Doll." By the Misses Jane and Ann Taylor.</i></center><br /> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Dramatis Personæ.</span></h4> + +<p> +<i>Blanchidine</i>, } By the celebrated <span class="smcap">Sisters Stilton</span>, the<br /> +<i>Brunette</i>. } Champion Duettists and Clog-dancers.<br /><br /> +<i>Fanny Furbelow.</i> By <span class="smcap">Miss Sylvia Sealskin</span> (<i>by kind permission +of the Gaiety Management</i>).<br /> +<br /> +<i>Frank Manly.</i> By <span class="smcap">Mr. Henry Neville</span>. +</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Scene</span>—<i>A Sunny Glade in Kensington Gardens, between the Serpentine +and Round Pond</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Blanchidine</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>, <i>with their arms thrown +affectionately around one another</i>. <span class="smcap">Blanchidine</span> <i>is carrying a large +and expressionless wooden doll</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<div class="direction"><p><i>Duet and Step-dance.</i></p></div> + +<p> +<i>Bl.</i> Oh, I do adore <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>! (<i>Dances.</i>) Tippity-tappity, tappity-tippity, tippity-tappity, tip-tap!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Br</i>. <span class="smcap">Blanchidine's</span> the sweetest pet! (<i>Dances.</i>) Tippity-tappity, &c.</p><br /> +<br /> +<center><i>Together.</i></center><br /> + +<div class="centered table"> +<table summary="song"> +<tr><td>When the sun is high,</td></tr> +<tr><td>We come out to ply,</td></tr> +<tr><td>Nobody is nigh,</td></tr> +<tr><td>All is mirth and j'y!</td></tr> +<tr><td></td></tr> +<tr><td></td></tr> +<tr><td>With a pairosol,</td></tr> +<tr><td>We'll protect our doll,</td></tr> +<tr><td>Make a mossy bed</td></tr> +<tr><td>For her wooden head!</td></tr> +</table><br /> +<div class="direction">[<i>Combination step-dance, during which both watch their feet with an air +of detached and slightly amused interest, as if they belonged to some +other persons.</i></div></div> + +<p>Clickity-clack, clickity-clack, clickity, clickity, clickity-clack; +clackity-clickity, clickity-clackity, clackity-clickity-<i>clack</i>!</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Repeat ad. lib.</i></div> + +<p> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>apologetically to Audience</i>). Her taste in dress is rather plain! (<i>Dances.</i>) Tippity-tappity, &c.</p> + +<p><i>Br.</i> (<i>in pitying aside</i>). It <i>is</i> a pity she's so vain! (<i>Dances.</i>) Tippity-tappity, &c.</p> + +<i>Bl.</i> + +<div class="centered table"> +<table summary="song"> +<tr><td>'Tis a shime to smoile,</td></tr> +<tr><td>But she's shocking stoyle,</td></tr> +<tr><td>It is quite a troyal,</td></tr> +<tr><td>Still—she mikes a foil!</td></tr> +<tr><td></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p><i>Br.</i></p> +<div class="centered table"> +<table summary="song"> +<tr><td>Often I've a job</td></tr> +<tr><td>To suppress a sob,</td></tr> +<tr><td>She is such a snob,</td></tr> +<tr><td>When she meets a nob! </td></tr> +</table><br /> +</div> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Step-dance as before.</i></div> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>N.B.—In consideration of the well-known difficulty that most +popular variety-artists experience in the metrical delivery of +decasyllabic couplets, the lines which follow have been written as +they will most probably be spoken.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>looking off with alarm</i>). Why, here comes <span class="smcap">Fanny Furbelow</span>, a new frock from Paris in!<br /> +She'll find me with <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>—it's too embarrassing!<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Aside.</i></div> + +<p> +<i>To Brunette.</i> <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>, my love, I know <i>such</i> a pretty game we'll play at—<br /> +Poor <span class="smcap">Timburina's</span> ill, and the seaside she ought to stay at.<br /> +(The Serpentine's the seaside, let's pretend,)<br /> +And <i>you</i> shall take her there—(<i>hypocritically</i>)—you're such a friend!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Br.</i> (<i>with simplicity</i>). Oh, yes, that <i>will</i> be splendid, <span class="smcap">Blanchidine</span>,<br /> +And then we can go and have a dip in a bathing-machine!<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Blan.</span> <i>resigns the wooden doll to</i> <span class="smcap">Brun.</span>, <i>who skips off with it</i>, +<span class="smcap">L.</span>, <i>as</i> <span class="smcap">Fanny Furbelow</span> <i>enters</i>, <span class="smcap">R.</span>, <i>carrying a magnificent wax +doll</i>.</div> + +<p> +<i>Fanny</i> (<i>languidly</i>). Ah, howdy do—<i>isn't</i> this heat too frightful?<br /> +And so you're quite alone?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>nervously</i>). Oh, <i>quite</i>—oh yes, I always am alone, when there's nobody with me.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>This is a little specimen of the Lady's humorous "gag," at which +she is justly considered a proficient.</i></div> + +<p> +<i>Fanny</i> (<i>drawling</i>). Delightful!<br /> +When I was wondering, only a little while ago,<br /> +If I should meet a creature that I know;<br /> +Allow me—my new doll, the <span class="smcap">Lady Minnie</span>!<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction"><i>[Introducing doll.</i></div> + +<p> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>rapturously</i>). Oh, what a perfect love!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Fanny</i>. She ought to be—for a guinea!<br /> +Here, you may nurse her for a little while.<br /> +Be careful, for her frock's the latest style.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Gives</i> <span class="smcap">Blan</span>. <i>the wax doll</i>.</div> + +<p> +She's the best wax, and has three changes of clothing—<br /> +For those cheap wooden dolls I've quite a loathing.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>hastily</i>). Oh, so have <i>I</i>—they're not to be endured!<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction"><i>Re-enter</i> <span class="smcap">Brunette</span> <i>with the wooden doll, which she tries to press +upon</i> <span class="smcap">Blanchidine</span>, <i>much to the latter's confusion</i>.</div> + +<p> +<i>Br.</i> I've brought poor <span class="smcap">Timburina</span> back, completely cured!<br /> +Why, aren't you pleased? Your face is looking so cloudy!<br /> +<br /> +<i>F.</i> (<i>haughtily</i>). Is she a friend of <i>yours</i>—this little dowdy?<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Slow music.</i></div> + +<p> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>after an internal struggle</i>). Oh, no, what an idea! Why, I don't even know her by name!<br /> +Some vulgar child ...</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Lets the wax doll fall unregarded on the gravel.</i></div> + +<p> +<i>Br.</i> (<i>indignantly</i>). Oh, what a horrid shame!<br /> +I see <i>now</i> why you sent us to the Serpentine!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>heartlessly</i>). There's no occasion to flare up like turpentine.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Br.</i> (<i>ungrammatically</i>). I'm <i>not</i>! Disown your doll, and thrust me, too, aside,<br /> +The one thing left for both of us is—suicide!<br /> +Yes, <span class="smcap">Timburina</span>, us no more she cherishes—<br /> +<i>(Bitterly.)</i> Well, the Round Pond a handy place to perish is!<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Rushes off stage with wooden doll.</i></div> + +<p> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>making a feeble attempt to follow</i>). Come back, <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>; don't leave me thus, in charity!<br /> +<br /> +<i>F.</i> (<i>with contempt</i>). Well, I'll be off—since you seem to prefer vulgarity.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bl.</i> No, stay—but—ah, she said—what if she <i>meant</i> it?<br /> +<br /> +<i>F.</i> Not she! And, if she did, <i>we</i> can't prevent it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>relieved</i>). That's true—we'll play, and think no more about her.<br /> +<br /> +<i>F.</i> (<i>sarcastically</i>). We may <i>just</i> manage to get on without her!<br /> +So come—(<i>perceives doll lying face upwards on path</i>)—you odious girl, what have you done?<br /> +Left <span class="smcap">Lady Minnie</span> lying in the blazing sun!<br /> +'Twas done on purpose—oh, you <i>thing</i> perfidious!</p> +<div class="direction">[<i>Stamps.</i></div> +<p>You <i>knew</i> she'd melt, and get completely hideous!<br /> +Don't answer <i>me</i>, Miss—I wish we'd never met.<br /> +You're only fit for persons like <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>!<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Picks up doll, and exit in passion.</i></div><br /><br /> + +<center><i>Grand Sensation Descriptive Soliloquy, by</i> <span class="smcap">Blanchidine</span>, <i>to +Melodramatic Music.</i></center> + +<p><i>Bl.</i> Gone! Ah, I am rightly punished! What would I not give now to have +homely little <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>, and dear old wooden-headed <span class="smcap">Timburina</span> back again! +<i>She</i> wouldn't melt in the sun.... Where are they now? Great Heavens! +that threat—that rash resolve ... I remember all! 'Twas in the +direction of the Pond they vanished. (<i>Peeping anxiously between +trees.</i>) Are they still in sight?... Yes, I see them! <span class="smcap">Brunette</span> has +reached the water's edge.... What is she purposing! Now she kneels on +the rough gravel; she is making <span class="smcap">Timburina</span> kneel too! How calm and +resolute they both appear! (<i>Shuddering.</i>) I dare not look further—but, +ah, I must—<i>I must!</i>... Horror! I saw her boots flash for an instant in +the bright sunlight; and now the ripples have closed, smiling over her +little black stockings!... Help!—save her, somebody!—help!... Joy! a +gentleman has appeared on the scene—how handsome, how brave he looks! +He has taken in the situation at a glance! With quiet composure he +removes his coat—oh, <i>don't</i> trouble about folding it up!—and why, +<i>why</i> remove your gloves, when there is not a moment to be lost? Now, +with many injunctions, he entrusts his watch to a bystander, who +retires, overcome by emotion. And now—oh, gallant, heroic soul!—now he +is sending his toy terrier into the seething water! (<i>Straining eagerly +forward.</i>) Ah, the dog paddles bravely out—he has reached the spot ... +oh, he has passed it!—he is trying to catch a duck! Dog, dog, <i>is</i> this +a time for pursuing ducks? At last he understands—he dives ... he +brings up—agony! a small tin cup! Again ... <i>this</i> time, surely—what, +only an old pot-hat!... Oh, this dog is a fool! And still the Round Pond +holds its dread secret! Once more ... yes—no, yes, it <i>is</i> <span class="smcap">Timburina</span>! +Thank Heaven, she yet breathes! But <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>? Can she have stuck in the +mud at the bottom? Ha, she, too, is rescued—saved—ha-ha-ha!—saved, +saved, saved!</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/064.png"> +<img src="images/064.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a> +</div> + +<p>[<i>Swoons hysterically, amid deafening applause.</i></p> + +<p><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Frank Manly</span>, <i>supporting</i> <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>, <i>who carries</i> <span class="smcap">Timburina</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Bl.</i> (<i>wildly</i>). What, do I see you safe, beloved <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Br.</i> Yes, thanks to his courage, I'm not even <i>wet</i>!</p> + +<p><i>Frank</i> (<i>modestly</i>). Nay, spare your compliments. To rescue Beauty, +When in distress, is every hero's duty!</p> + +<p><i>Bl.</i> <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>, forgive—I'm cured of all my folly!</p> + +<p><i>Br.</i> (<i>heartily</i>). Of course I will, my dear, and so will dolly!</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Grand Trio and Step-dance, with "tippity-tappity," and +"clickity-clack" refrain as finale.</i></div><br /> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/065a.png"> +<img src="images/065a.png" width="100%" alt="THE NEW GERMAN RIFLE" /></a> +<h4>"THE NEW GERMAN RIFLE."</h4> +<h5>(<span class="smcap">A Fancy Sketch of its Startling Appearance</span>.)</h5> +<p>"The Regulations for the employment of the new German Infantry Rifle +have just been published. With regard to the capabilities of the new +rifle, the Regulations assert, that in this arm the German Infantry +possesses a weapon standing fully abreast of the time with a range such +as was heretofore held to be impossible of attainment."—<i>Standard, Jan. +25.</i></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Commemoration Birthday Concert</span>.—The programme you are preparing, after +the fashion set the other evening in St. James's Hall, at an +entertainment organised in honour of the birthday of the poet <span class="smcap">Burns</span>, for +the purpose of paying a similar tribute to the memory of his great +fellow-countryman, Sir <span class="smcap">Walter Scott</span>, certainly promises well. As you +very truly point out that, as at the Concert which you are taking as +your model, though the name of <span class="smcap">Burns</span> was tacked on to nearly every item +in the programme, as if he had been responsible for the words, music and +all, it did not seem limited to the Poet's work alone, you might +certainly allow yourself the latitude you propose in arranging your own +scheme. The fact that, at the Burns Celebration, <span class="smcap">M. Nachez</span> played his +own Hungarian dances, the connection between which and the Poet's +birthday is not, at first sight, entirely obvious, and that another +gentleman, with equal appropriateness, favoured the company with "<i>The +Death of Nelson</i>," on the trombone, seems certainly to give you a +warrant for the introduction you contemplate making, in commemoration of +Sir <span class="smcap">Walter</span>, of the Chinese Chopstick Mazurka, and the Woora-woora +Cannibal Islanders side-knife and sledge-hammer war-dance. It may of +course be possible, in a remote way, to introduce them, as you suggest, +into <i>Old Mortality</i>, but we should think you would be nearer the mark +with that other item of your programme, that associates <i>Jem Baggs</i> with +<i>The Lay of the Last Minstrel</i>. Your idea of accepting and utilising the +offer of the <span class="smcap">Giralfi</span> family to introduce their Drawing-room +Entertainment into your programme seems excellent, and has certainly as +much in common with the Birthday of Sir <span class="smcap">Walter Scott</span> as the "<i>Death of +Nelson</i>," on the trombone, has with that of the distinguished Novelist's +great brother Poet. There is no reason, as you further point out, why +you should not organise a whole Series of Commemorative Birthday +Entertainments, as you think of doing, on the same plan, and with +<span class="smcap">Beethoven</span>, <span class="smcap">Macaulay</span>, Dr. <span class="smcap">Johnson</span>, and <span class="smcap">Warren Hastings</span>, the celebrities +you mention, to begin upon, you ought to have no difficulty in working +in the solo on the big drum, the performance of the Learned Hyæna, the +Japanese Twenty-feet Bayonet-jump, and the other equally appropriate +attractions with which you are already in communication. Anyhow, begin +with Sir <span class="smcap">Walter Scott</span>, following the St. James's Hall lead, and let us +hear how you get on.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Striking Wedding Presents</span>.—As you seem to think that a list of the +presents made to your young friends who are about to be married will in +all probability be published in some of the Society papers, "with the +names of the donors," we think, on the whole, we would advise you <i>not</i> +to give them, as you seem rather inclined to do, those three hundred +weight of cheap sardines of which you became possessed through a seizure +of your agents for arrears of rent. You might certainly present them +with the disabled omnibus horse that came into your hands on the same +occasion. Horses are sometimes given as wedding presents. There were +four down in a list of gifts at a fashionable marriage only last week. +But, of course, it would not suit your purpose to appear as the donor of +a "damaged" creature. We think, perhaps, it would be wiser to accept the +five pounds offered you through the veterinary surgeon you mention, and +lay out the money, as you suggest, in sixteen hundred Japanese fans. If +it falls through, and you find the horse still on your hands, there is +no need to mention its association with the omnibus. "Mr. <span class="smcap">John +Johnson</span>—a riding horse," doesn't read badly. We almost think this is +better than the fans. Think it over.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE LUXURY OF PANTOMIME.</h2> + +<p>One day last week, after a struggle for life, Her Majesty's Theatre was +shut up, five hundred persons, so it was stated, lost employment, and +the <i>Cinderella</i> family, proud sisters and all, nay, even the gallant +Prince himself, were turned adrift. Smiling, at the helm of the Drury +Lane Ship, stands <span class="smcap">Augustus Druriolanus</span>, who sees, not unmoved, the wreck +of "Her Majesty's Opposition," and murmurs to himself as <i>Jack and the +Beanstalk</i> continues its successful course, "This is, indeed, the +survival of the fittest," and, charitably, <span class="smcap">Druriolanus</span> sends out a +life-boat entitled "Benefit Performance" to the rescue of the +shipwrecked crew. <i>Ave Cæsar</i>!</p> + +<p>From this disaster there results a moral, "which, when found," it would +be as well to "make a note of." It is this: as evidently London will +not, or cannot, support two Pantomimes, several Circuses, and a Show +like <span class="smcap">Barnum's</span>, all through one winter, why try the experiment? +especially when the <i>luxe</i> of Pantomime, fostered by <span class="smcap">Druriolanus</span>, is so +enormous, that any competitor must be forced into ruinous and even +reckless extravagance, in order to enter into anything like rivalry with +The Imperator who "holds the field" for Pantomime, just as he holds "The +Garden" for Opera, against all comers.</p> + +<p>These rival establishments only do harm to one another, spoil the public +by indulging their taste for magnificent spectacle, increasing in +gorgeousness every year, until true Pantomime will be overlaid with +jewelled armour, crushed under velvet and gold, and be lying helpless +under the weight of its own gorgeosity. We should question whether the +Olympian <span class="smcap">Barnum</span> has done much good for himself, seeing how gigantic the +expenses must be; and certainly he can't have done good to the theatres. +As to Shows, "The more the merrier" does not hold good. "The fewer the +better" is nearer the mark in every sense, and perhaps the experience of +this season may suggest even to <span class="smcap">Druriolanus</span> to give the public still +more fun for their money (and there is plenty of genuine fun in <i>Jack +and the Beanstalk</i>), with less show, in less time, and at consequently +less expense to himself, and with, therefore, bigger profits. We shall +see.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 65%"> +<a href="images/065b.png"> +<img src="images/065b.png" width="100%" alt="Gladstone desires" /></a><br /><br /> +<p>"Mr. <span class="smcap">Gladstone</span> desires that <span class="smcap">ALL LETTERS</span>, &c., should be addressed to +him at 10, St. James's Square, London."—<i>Standard, Jan. 25.</i></p> +<p>Why should "all letters" be addressed to Mr. <span class="smcap">Gladstone</span>? Isn't anybody +else to have any? How about Valentine's Day? Will "<i>all letters</i>" be +addressed to him then? If so—then the above Illustration conveys only a +feeble idea of the result.</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/066.png"> +<img src="images/066.png" width="100%" alt="FELINE AMENITIES." /></a> +<h4>FELINE AMENITIES.</h4> +<p><i>Fair Hostess</i> (<i>to Mrs. Masham, who is looking her very best</i>). +"<span class="smcap">Howdydo, Dear? I hope you're not so Tired as you <i>look</i></span>!"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE FINISHING TOUCH;</h2> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Or, Preparing for Mr. Speaker's Party</span>.</h4> + +<center><i>Anxious Old (Legal) Nurses loquitur</i>:—</center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Ah! he's ready now, thanks be!</p> +<p class="i0">But a plaguier child than he</p> +<p class="i0">I am sure we Nusses three</p> +<p class="i10">Never dressed.</p> +<p class="i0">But at last we have got through;</p> +<p class="i0">Well-curled hair, and sash of blue!</p> +<p class="i0">Yes, we rather think he'll do,</p> +<p class="i10">Heaven be blessed!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Ah! the awful time it took!</p> +<p class="i0">Never mind; by hook or crook</p> +<p class="i0">We have togged him trimly. Look!</p> +<p class="i10">There he stands!</p> +<p class="i0">His long wailings nearly hushed,</p> +<p class="i0">Buttoned, pinned, oiled, combed and brushed,</p> +<p class="i0">And his tight glove-fingers crushed</p> +<p class="i10">On his hands.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Does us credit, don't you think?</p> +<p class="i0">How the chit would writhe and shrink,</p> +<p class="i0">Get his garments in a kink</p> +<p class="i10">Every way!</p> +<p class="i0">Awful handful, hot and heady,</p> +<p class="i0">Shuffling round, ne'er standing steady,</p> +<p class="i0">Feared we'd never get him ready</p> +<p class="i10">For the day.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Mr. <span class="smcap">Speaker's</span> Party,—yes!</p> +<p class="i0">Hope he'll be a great success;</p> +<p class="i0">His clean face and natty dress</p> +<p class="i10"><i>Ought</i> to please.</p> +<p class="i0">But there'll be no end of eyes</p> +<p class="i0">On his buttons, hooks, and ties;</p> +<p class="i0">Prompt to chaff and criticise,</p> +<p class="i10">Tear and tease.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">There'll be many an Irish boy</p> +<p class="i0">Who will find it his chief joy</p> +<p class="i0">To upset and to annoy</p> +<p class="i10">The young Turk;</p> +<p class="i0">And, with no particular call,</p> +<p class="i0">Try to make him squeal and squall,</p> +<p class="i0">Disarrange him, after all</p> +<p class="i10">Our hard work.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Not to mention other lads,</p> +<p class="i0">Regular rowdy little Rads,</p> +<p class="i0">Full of ill-conditioned fads,</p> +<p class="i10">And mean spite;</p> +<p class="i0">Who will pinch and pull the hair</p> +<p class="i0">Of our charge who's standing there,</p> +<p class="i0">After all our patient care</p> +<p class="i10">Right and tight.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">For we know they don't like <i>us</i>,</p> +<p class="i0">And they're sure to scold and cuss</p> +<p class="i0">The tired three, and raise a fuss</p> +<p class="i10">And a pother</p> +<p class="i0">About Hopeful here. Heigho!</p> +<p class="i0">But he's ready, dears, to go.</p> +<p class="i0">Ah! they little little know</p> +<p class="i10">All our bother!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">On our hands heaven knows how long</p> +<p class="i0">We have had him. 'Twould be wrong</p> +<p class="i0">To indulge in language strong;</p> +<p class="i10">But how hearty</p> +<p class="i0">Is our joy that we have done!</p> +<p class="i0">There now, <span class="smcap">Reppy</span>, off you run!</p> +<p class="i0">Only hope you'll have good fun</p> +<p class="i10">At the Party!</p> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/067.png"> +<img src="images/067.png" width="100%" alt="THE FINISHING TOUCH" /></a> +<h4>THE FINISHING TOUCH; OR, PREPARING FOR MR. SPEAKER'S PARTY.</h4> +<p>"<span class="smcap">THANK GOODNESS, HE'S READY AT LAST</span>!"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>TO AN OLD FRIEND WITH A NEW WIG.</h2> + +<p>Delighted to hear that our friend <span class="smcap">Charles Hall</span>, A.D.C., Trin. Coll. +Cam., and Q.C., is likely to be made a Judge. Where will he sit? +Admiralty, Probate, and Divorce Court, where wreckage cases of ships and +married lives are heard? Health to the Judge that shall be, with a song +and chorus, if you please, Gentlemen, to the ancient air of "<i>Samuel +Hall</i>," revived for this occasion only:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">His name it is <span class="smcap">Charles Hall</span>,</p> +<p class="i10">A.D.C. and Q.C.,</p> +<p class="i0">His name it is <span class="smcap">Charles Hall</span>.</p> +<p class="i0">In cases great and small</p> +<p class="i0">He's shone out since his call,</p> +<p class="i10">All agree.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">In Court of Admiral<i>tee</i></p> +<p class="i10">Did he drudge, (<i>bis</i>)</p> +<p class="i0">In Court of Admiraltee,</p> +<p class="i0">'Bout lights and wrecks,—will he</p> +<p class="i0">Henceforth be less at sea</p> +<p class="i10">As a Judge?</p> +</div></div> + +<center><i>Chorus.</i><br /><br /> +(<i>To quite another tune, i.e., the refrain of</i> <span class="smcap">George Grossmith's</span> <i>song, +"How I became an Actor."</i>)</center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">And each of his friends makes this remark,</p> +<p class="i6">(Retort he may with "Fudge!")</p> +<p class="i0">"Now wasn't I the first to say, you're sure</p> +<p class="i6">Some day to be a Judge!"</p> +</div></div> + +<p>It will be a touching spectacle, as, indeed, it always is to the +reflective mind, to see the new Judge sitting among the wrecks, like +"Marius among the Ruins." Fine subject for Sir <span class="smcap">Frederick</span>, P.R.A., in the +next Academy Exhibition.</p> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/069a.png"> +<img src="images/069a.png" width="100%" alt="A DISTINCTION WITHOUT A DIFFERENCE" /></a> +<h4>A DISTINCTION WITHOUT A DIFFERENCE (IN RESULT).</h4> +<p><span class="smcap">"Hullo, Jim, whatever made you come off?"—"Why, the Brute +bucked!"—"Bucked! Nonsense, Man, she only Coughed!"</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>KICKED!</h2> + +<h4>(<i>By the Foot of Clara Groomley.</i>)<br /><br /> + +<span class="smcap">In Four Chapters.—III.</span></h4> + +<p>Nothing done! The whole Detective force of London, having nothing better +to do, were placed at my disposal, and, after three weeks' search, they +found a girl called <span class="smcap">Smith</span>; but it was the wrong one. My darling is +<i>blonde</i>, and this was a dark, almost a black, <span class="smcap">Smith</span>. I came back to +Ryde in a passion and a third-class carriage. I find from Mademoiselle +that Miss <span class="smcap">Smith</span> has not yet returned.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James</span> seemed pleased to see me, but he noticed that in my anxiety and +preoccupation I had forgotten to have my hat ironed. The hotel is quite +full, and I am to sleep in the Haunted Room to-night.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>I am not a hysterical man, and this is not a neurotic story. It is, as a +matter of fact, the same old rot to which the shilling shockers have +made us accustomed. I cannot account in any way for my experiences last +night in the Haunted Room, but they certainly were not due to +nervousness. I had not been asleep long before I had a most curious and +vivid dream. I felt that I was not in the hotel, and that at the same +time I was not out of it. I had a curious sense of being everywhere in +general, and nowhere in particular.</p> + +<p>I saw before me a gorgeously furnished room. On the tiger-skin rug +before the fire was a basket with a crewel-worked chair-back spread over +it. <i>What was in the basket?</i> Again and again I asked myself that +question. I felt like a long-division sum, and a cold shiver went down +my quotient.</p> + +<p>In one corner of the room stood a man of about thirty, with a handsome, +wicked face. One hand rested on the drawer of a writing-table. Slowly he +drew from it a folded paper, and read, in a harsh, raucous voice:—</p> + +<p>"'To cleaning and repairing one——' No, that's not it."</p> + +<p>He selected another paper. Ah, it was the right one this time!</p> + +<p>"'Memorandum of Aunt <span class="smcap">Jane's</span> Will.' 'All property to go to <span class="smcap">Alice Smith</span>, +unless Aunt <span class="smcap">Jane's</span> poodle, <i>Tommy Atkins</i>, dies before <span class="smcap">Alice Smith</span> comes +of age. In which case, it all goes to me.' I remember making that note +when the will was read. And now"—he glanced at the covered +basket—"<i>Tommy</i>'s kicked the bucket. Well, he stood in my way. Who's to +know? But there must be no <i>post-mortem</i>, no 'vet' fetched in. Happy +thought—I'll have the brute stuffed." He knelt down by the side of the +basket, and slowly drew back the covering. "Ah!" he said—"it's cruel +work."</p> + +<p>Did he refer to the chair-back? or did he refer to the way in which, for +the sake of gain, an honest dog had been MURDERED? For there before my +eyes lay the dead poodle, <i>Tommy Atkins</i>!</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Alice</span> loses all her money," he continued, "but that doesn't matter. She +tells me that she's picked up no end of a swell down at Ryde, and he may +marry her. The question is—will he?" Once more I felt like a division +sum. I yearned to call out loudly, and answer with a decided negative; +but no words came. My strength was gone. I was utterly worked out, and +there was no remainder.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/069b.png"> +<img src="images/069b.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a> +</div> + +<p>When I came to myself, I found <span class="smcap">James</span>, the waiter, standing by my bedside +with a gentleman whom I did not know. <span class="smcap">James</span> introduced him to me as a +Mr. <span class="smcap">Alkaloid</span>, a photographer who was stopping in the hotel. Mr. <span class="smcap">Alkaloid</span> +had been woken up by a wild shriek for a decided negative, and had +rushed down to see if he could do a little business. "Take you by the +electric light," he said; "just as you are,"—I was in my night-dress +and the old, old hat, the rim of which had been slightly +sprained,—"perfectly painless process, and money returned if not +satisfactory." I thanked him warmly, and apologised for having disturbed +him.</p> + +<p>I went to London on the following day. I felt it my positive duty to +explain that I should always regard <span class="smcap">Alice Smith</span> as a sister, but nothing +more.</p> + +<p>I had quite forgotten that I did not know the house where <span class="smcap">Alice Smith</span> +lived, and the poodle dog lay dead.</p> + +<center>(<i>Here ends the Narrative of</i> <span class="smcap">Cyril Mush.</span>)</center><br /> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/070.png"> +<img src="images/070.png" width="100%" alt="THE SUMMONS TO DUTY" /></a> +<h4>THE SUMMONS TO DUTY.</h4> +<center>(<i>Design for a Parliamentary Cartoon, illustrating the Life of a Country +Member.</i>)</center> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/071a.png"> +<img src="images/071a.png" width="100%" alt="EXCLUSIVE DEALING." /></a> +<h4>"EXCLUSIVE DEALING."</h4> +<p><i>Irish Landlord</i> (<i>boycotted</i>). "<span class="smcap">Pat, my man, I'm in no end of a hurry. +Put the Pony to, and drive me to the Station, and I'll give ye Half a +Sovereign</span>!"</p> +<p><i>Pat</i> (<i>Nationalist, but needy</i>). "<span class="smcap">Och shure, it's more than me Loife is +worth to be seen droiving <i>you</i>, yer Honour. But"</span>—(<i>slily</i>)—<span class="smcap">"if yer +Honour would jist Droive <i>me</i>, maybe it's meself that moight venture +it!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>"SWEET-MARJORIE!"</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/071b.png"> +<img src="images/071b.png" width="100%" alt="Change for a Tenor" /></a><br /><br /> +<p>Change for a Tenor. Wilfred of Huntington is succeeded by +that Man of Mark—Tapley.</p> +</div> + +<p>Take it all in all, <i>Marjorie</i> at the Prince of "Wales' is a very +satisfactory production. The subject is English, the music is English, +and the "book" is English too. So when we applaud the new Opera, we have +the satisfaction of knowing that our cheers are given in the cause of +native talent triumphant. This is appropriate to the "time" of the play +(the commencement of the thirteenth century), which is the very epoch +when the Saxons were beginning to hold their own in the teeth of their +Norman conquerors. But leaving patriotism out of the question (a matter +which, it is to be feared, is not likely to influence Stalls, Pit, and +Gallery materially for a very lengthened period), the Opera <i>quâ</i> Opera +is a very good one. The company is strong—so strong, that it hears the +loss of an accomplished songstress like Miss <span class="smcap">Huntington</span> without severely +suffering. It is true that an excellent substitute for the lady has been +found in that tenor with the cheerful name, Mr. <span class="smcap">Mark Tapley</span>, whose notes +are certainly worth their weight in gold; but leaving the +representatives of <i>Wilfred</i> "outside the competition," the remainder of +the <i>Dramatis Personæ</i> are excellent. They work well together, and +consequently the <i>ensemble</i> is in the highest degree pleasing.</p> + +<p>Assistance of rather a graver character than usually associated with +comic opera is naturally afforded by Mr. <span class="smcap">Haydyn Coffin</span>. Miss <span class="smcap">Phyllis +Broughton</span> is introduced not only to sing but to dance, and performs the +latter accomplishment with a grace not to be surpassed, and only to be +equalled by Miss <span class="smcap">Kate Vaughan</span>. Mr. <span class="smcap">Ashley</span>, now happily returned to the +melodious paths from which he strayed to play in pieces of the calibre +of <i>Pink Dominoes</i>, seems quite at home in the character of <i>Sir +Simon</i>—not "the Cellarer," but rather, "the sold one." Mr. <span class="smcap">Monkhouse</span>, +whose name and personality go to prove that a cowl does not preclude its +occasional occupation by a wag, is most amusing as <i>Gosric</i>. Mr. <span class="smcap">Albert +James</span> is a lively jester, whose quips and cranks might have been of +considerable value to Mr. <span class="smcap">Joseph Miller</span> when that literary droll was +engaged in compiling his comic classic. Miss <span class="smcap">D'arville</span> and Madame <span class="smcap">Amadi</span> +both work with a will, and find a way to public favour. The dresses are +in excellent taste, and the scenery capital.</p> + +<p>That the <i>mise en scène</i> is perfect, goes without saying, as this Opera +has been produced by that past master of stage-direction, the one and +only <span class="smcap">Augustus Druriolanus</span>. The dialogue is sufficiently pointed—not too +pointed, but pointed enough. It does not require a knowledge of the +niceties of the law, the regulations of the British army, or a keen +appreciation of the subtlest subtleties of logic to fully understand it. +It is amusing, and provocative of innocent laughter, which, after all, +seems to be a sufficient recommendation for words spoken within the +walls of a play-house. The music is full of melody—"quite killing," as +a young lady wittily observed, on noticing that the name of the Composer +was <span class="smcap">Slaughter</span>. So <i>Marjorie</i> may be fairly said not only to have +deserved success, but (it is satisfactory to be able to add) also to +have attained it.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">One Who has Practised at the Musical Bar</span>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> + +<h2>STATESMEN AT HOME.</h2> + +<center>DCXLIII. <span class="smcap">The Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, M.P., at Hawarden.</span></center> + +<div class="figleft1" style="width:100%"> +<img src="images/072a.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon top" /> +</div> + +<div class="figleft2" style="width:61%"> +<img src="images/072b.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon bottom" /> +</div> + +<p><b><sub>S</sub></b> you approach the historic home of the great English Statesman who is +to be your host to-day, you become conscious of the fact that there are +two Hawarden Castles. Moreover, as young <span class="smcap">Herbert</span> pleasantly remarks a +little later in the day, "You must draw a Hawarden-fast line between the +two." One, standing on a hill dominating a far-reaching tract of level +country, was already so old in the time of <span class="smcap">Edward the First</span> that it was +found necessary to rebuild it. Looking through your Domesday Book (which +you always carry with you on these excursions), you find the mansion +referred to under the style of Haordine. This, antiquarians assume, is +the Saxonised form of the earlier British <i>Y Garthddin</i>, which, being +translated, means "The hill-fort on the projecting ridge."</p> + +<p>When <span class="smcap">William the Conqueror</span> came over, bringing with him a following the +numerical proportions of which increase as the years roll by, he found +the Fort on the Hill held by <span class="smcap">Edward</span> of Mercia, and deemed it convenient +to leave it in his possession. The Castle played its part in English +history down to the time, now 130 years gone by, when it came into the +hands of Sir <span class="smcap">John Glynn</span>, and thence through long descent became an +inheritance of the gracious lady who, with cambric cap-strings streaming +in the free air of the Marches, joins your host in welcoming you.</p> + +<p>It is, however, not on the steps of the old castle of which Prince +<span class="smcap">Llewellyn</span> was once lord that you are thus received. By the side of the +old ruin has grown up another Hawarden Castle, a roomy mansion, +statelily stuccoed, with sham turrets run up, buttresses, embrasures, +portholes, and portcullises, putting to shame the rugged, looped and +windowless ruin that still stands on the projecting ridge. This dates +only from the beginning of the century, and, looking upon it, your face +glows with honest pride, as you think how much better the generation +near your own made for itself dwelling-houses compared with the earlier +English.</p> + +<p>Whilst you stand musing on these things you are conscious of a whishing +sound, and a breath of swiftly moving cool air wantonly strikes your +cheek. You look up and behold! there is your host, axe in hand, +playfully performing a number of passes over your unconscious head. His +dress is designed admirably to suit the exercise. Coat and waistcoat are +doffed; the immortal collars are turned down, displaying the columnar +throat and the brawny chest; the snow-white shirt-sleeves are turned up +to the elbow, disclosing biceps that <span class="smcap">Samson</span> would envy and <span class="smcap">Sandow</span> covet. +His braces are looped on either side of his supple hips, and his right +hand grasps the axe which, a moment ago had been performing over your +head a series of evolutions which, remarkable for the strength and +agility displayed, were, perhaps, scarcely desirable for daily +repetition.</p> + +<p>"Don't be frightened, <span class="smcap">Toby</span> M.P.," said the full rich voice so familiar +in the House of Commons; "it's our wild woodsman's way of welcoming the +coming guest. What do you think of my costume? Seen it before? Ah! +<i>yes</i>, the photographs. <i>Carte de visite style</i>, <i>10s. 6d.</i> a dozen; +Cabinet size, a guinea. I have been photographed several times as you +will observe."</p> + +<p>And, indeed, as your host leads you along the stately passages, through +the storied rooms, you find his photograph everywhere. The tables are +covered with them, showing your host in all attitudes and costumes. +"Yes," he says, with a sigh, "I think I have marched up to the camera's +mouth as often as most men of my years."</p> + +<p>Ascending the rustic staircase which leads from the garden, <span class="smcap">William +Ewart Gladstone</span> takes you past the library into the drawing-room, in the +upper parts of the leaded windows of which are inserted panels of rare +old glass, cunningly obtained by melting superfluous Welsh ale bottles. +He leads you to a table, as round as that at which a famous Conference +was held, and points to a little ivory painting. It shows a chubby +little boy some two years of age, with rather large head and broad +shoulders, sitting at the knee of a young nymph approaching her fifth +year. On her knee is a book, and the chubby boy, with dark hair falling +low over his forehead, his great brown eyes staring frankly at you, +points with his finger to a passage. When you learn that this is a +portrait of your host and his sister taken in the year 1811, you +naturally come to the conclusion that the young lady has, for party +purposes, been misquoting some passages in her brother's speech, and +that he, having produced an authorised record of his address, is +triumphantly pointing to the text in controversion of her statement.</p> + +<p>Your host, chopping grimly at the furniture as he passes along—here +dexterously severing the leg of a Chippendale chair, and there hacking a +piece off a Louis Quatorze couch—leads the way to an annexe he has just +built for the reception of his treasured books. From the outside this +excrescence on the Castle has but a poverty-stricken look. It is, to +tell the truth, made of corrugated iron. But that is a cloak that +cunningly covers an interior of rare beauty and rich design. Arras of +cloth of gold hangs loosely on the walls, whilst here and there, on the +far-reaching floor, gleams the low light of a faded Turkey carpet. Open +tables, covered with broad cloths of crimson velvet, embroidered and +fringed with gold, carry innumerable Blue Books. On marble tables, +supported on carved and gilded frames, stand priceless vases, filled +with rare flowers. In crystal flagons you detect the sheen of amber +light (which may be sherry wine), whilst the ear is lulled with the +sound of fountains dispensing perfumes as of Araby. In an alcove, +chastely draped with violent violet velvet, the grey apes swing, and the +peacocks preen, on fretted pillar and jewelled screen. Horologes, to +chime the hours, and even the quarters, uprise from tables of +ebony-and-mother-of-pearl. Cabinets from Ind and Venice, of filligree +gold and silver, enclose complete sets of <i>Hansard's Parliamentary +Debates</i>; whilst lamps of silver, suspended from pendant pinnacles in +the fretted ceiling, shed a soft light over the varied mass of colour.</p> + +<p>Casting himself down lightly by a cabinet worked with Dutch beads +interspersed with seed-pearls, and toying with the gnarled handle of the +axe, the Right Hon. <span class="smcap">William Ewart Gladstone</span> tells you the story of his +life. At the outset you are a little puzzled to gather where exactly he +was born. At first you think it was in Scotland. Anon some town in +England claims the honour. Then Wales is incidentally mentioned, and +next the tearful voice of Erin claims her son. But, as the story goes +forward with long majestic stride, these difficulties fade in the +glamour of the Old Man's eloquence, and when you awake and find your +host has not yet got beyond the second course—the fish, as it were, of +the intellectual banquet—you say you will call again.</p> + +<p>Mention of the three courses naturally suggests dinner, and as you +evidently enjoy the monopoly of the mental association, you take your +leave, perhaps regretting that among his wild woodsman accessories your +host does not seem to include the midday chop.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gold-tipped</span> cigarettes seem just now to be "the swagger thing." "Ah!" +Master <span class="smcap">Tommy</span> sighed, as he set off for school with only five shillings +in his pocket, in consequence of all his dearest—and nearest—relatives +being laid up with the prevailing epidemic, "Ah, how I should like to be +one of those cigarettes, and then I should be tipped with gold."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 5%"> +<a href="images/072c.gif"> +<img src="images/072c.gif" width="100%" alt="pointing finger" /></a> +</div> + +<blockquote><p>NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., +Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no +case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and +Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no +exception.</p></blockquote> + +<p> </p> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30033 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/30033-h/images/061.png b/30033-h/images/061.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ed34e6d --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/061.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/062.png b/30033-h/images/062.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..09ab797 --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/062.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/063a.png b/30033-h/images/063a.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b95d7af --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/063a.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/063b.png b/30033-h/images/063b.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c07c8aa --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/063b.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/064.png b/30033-h/images/064.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..820b6a9 --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/064.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/065a.png b/30033-h/images/065a.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6fa4dbc --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/065a.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/065b.png b/30033-h/images/065b.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..292e0d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/065b.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/066.png b/30033-h/images/066.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..de448bb --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/066.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/067.png b/30033-h/images/067.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3c0d3b1 --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/067.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/069a.png b/30033-h/images/069a.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3603ac3 --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/069a.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/069b.png b/30033-h/images/069b.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a6e4299 --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/069b.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/070.png b/30033-h/images/070.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..adc8cb8 --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/070.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/071a.png b/30033-h/images/071a.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c6afadf --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/071a.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/071b.png b/30033-h/images/071b.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..88073bd --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/071b.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/072a.png b/30033-h/images/072a.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1db6a19 --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/072a.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/072b.png b/30033-h/images/072b.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..04d4bf4 --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/072b.png diff --git a/30033-h/images/072c.gif b/30033-h/images/072c.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8fa6bbf --- /dev/null +++ b/30033-h/images/072c.gif diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2cb3fd0 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #30033 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30033) diff --git a/old/30033-8.txt b/old/30033-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a800fac --- /dev/null +++ b/old/30033-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1607 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98, +February 8, 1890, by Various, Edited by F. C. (Francis Cowley) Burnand + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98, February 8, 1890 + + +Author: Various + +Editor: F. C. (Francis Cowley) Burnand + +Release Date: September 19, 2009 [eBook #30033] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, +VOL. 98, FEBRUARY 8, 1890*** + + +E-text prepared by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 30033-h.htm or 30033-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30033/30033-h/30033-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30033/30033-h.zip) + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI + +VOL. 98. + +FEBRUARY 8, 1890. + + + + + + + +[Illustration: ] + +UNTILED; OR, THE MODERN ASMODEUS. + + "Très volontiers," repartit le démon. "Vous aimez les tableaux + changeans: je veux vous contenter." + +_Le Diable Boiteux._ + + XIX. + + "A Late Symposium! Yet they're not engaged + In compotations. Argument hath raged + Four hours by the dial; + But zealotry of party, creed, or clique + Marks not the clock, whilst of polemic pique + There's one unvoided vial." + + So smiled the Shade. Dusk coat and gleaming head, + Viewed from above, before my gaze outspread + Like a black sea bespotted + With bare pink peaks of coral isles; all eyes + Were fixed on one who reeled out rhapsodies + In diction double-shotted. + + A long and lofty room, with pillars cold, + And spacious walls of chocolate and gold; + The solid sombre glory + Of tint oppressive and of tasteless shine, + Dear to the modern British Philistine, + Saint, sceptic, Whig, or Tory. + + "No Samson-strength of intellect or taste + Shall bow the pillars of this temple chaste + Of ugliness and unction. + What is't they argue lengthily and late? + The flame of patriot passion for the State + Fires this polemic function. + + "A caitiff Government has done a thing + To make its guardian-angel droop her wing + In sickened indignation: + That is, has striven to strengthen its redoubts, + Perfidious 'Ins,' to foil the eager 'Outs.' + Hence endless execration. + + "Hence all Wire-pullerdom is up in arms; + With clarion-toned excursions and alarms + The rival camp is ringing. + Hence perky commoners and pompous peers, + 'Midst vehement applause and volleying cheers, + Stale platitudes are stringing. + + "The British Public--some five hundred strong-- + Is here to 'strangle a Gigantic Wrong,'-- + So MARABOUT is saying. + Watch his wide waistcoat and his wandering eyes, + His stamping boots of Brobdingnagian size, + Clenched hands, and shoulders swaying. + + "A great Machine-man, MARABOUT! He dotes + On programmes hectographed and Party votes. + For all his pasty pallor + And shifty glance, he has the mob's regard, + And he is deemed by council, club, and ward + A mighty man of valour. + + "A purchased henchman to a Star of State? + Perhaps. But here he'll pose and perorate, + A Brutus vain and voluble. + And who, like MARABOUT, with vocal flux + Of formulas, can settle every _crux_ + That wisdom finds insoluble? + + "'Hear! hear!' That shibboleth of shallow souls + Around his ears in clamorous cadence rolls; + He swells, he glows, he twinkles; + The sapient Chairman wags his snowy pate, + Whilst cynic triumph, cautious yet elate, + Lurks laughing in his wrinkles. + + "And there sits honest zeal, absorbed, intent, + And cheerfully credulous. MARABOUT has bent + To the Commercial Dagon + He publicly derides; but many here + Will toast 'his genuine grit, his manly cheer,' + Over a friendly flagon. + + "Look on him later! There he snugly sits + With his rich patron. Were it war of wits + That wakes their crackling chuckles, + They scarce were heartier. It would strangely shock + MARABOUT'S worshippers to hear him mock + The 'mob' to which he truckles. + + "Truckles in platform speech. In club-room chat + With WAGSTAFF, shrewd wire-puller, flushed and fat, + Or DODD, the rich dry-salter, + You'd hear how supply he can shift and twist, + How BRUTUS with 'the base Monopolist' + Can calmly plot and palter," + + "Whilst MARABOUTS abound, O Shade," I cried, + "What wonder men are 'Mugwumps?'" Then my guide + Laughed low. "The æsthetic villa + Finds Shopdom's zeal on its fine senses jar; + Yet the Mugwumps Charybdis stands not far + From the Machine-man's Scylla. + + "Culture derides the Caucus for its heat, + Its hate--its absence of the Light and Sweet, + So jays might flout the vulture. + Partisan bitterness and purblind haste? + Come, view the haunts of dilettante Taste, + The coteries of Culture! + + "Here _Savants_ wrangle o'er a fossil bone, + CHAMPER, with curling lip and caustic tone, + At RUDDIMAN is railing. + CHAMPER knows everything, from PLATO'S text + To Protoplasm; yet his soul is vext, + His cheeks with spite are paling. + + "Why? Because RUDDIMAN, the rude, robust, + Has pierced with logic's vigorous vulgar thrust + The shield of icy polish. + CHAMPER, in print, is hot on party-hate, + Here his one aim is in the rough debate + His rival to demolish. + + "Sweet Reasonableness? Another host + Of sages see! The habits of the Ghost, + The Astral Body's action, + Absorb them, eager. Does more furious fire + The councils of the Caucusites inspire, + Or light the feuds of faction? + + "And there? They argue out with toil intense + A 'cosmic' poet's esoteric sense, + Of which a world, unwitting, + Recks nothing. Yet how terribly they'd trounce + Parliament's pettifogging, and denounce + 'Political hair-splitting'!" + + "O Shade, the difference is but small, one dreads. + Betwixt logomachists at loggerheads, + Whether their theme be bonnets + Or British interests. Zealot ardour burns + Scarce fiercer o'er Electoral Returns + Than over SHAKSPEARE'S Sonnets. + + "At MARABOUT the Mugwump sniffs and sneers; + Gregarious 'votes of thanks' and sheepish 'cheers' + Stir him to satire scornful. + But when sleek Culture apes, irate and loud, + The follies of the Caucus and the Crowd, + The spectacle is mournful." + + "True!" smiled the Shade. "Yon supercilious sage, + With patent prejudice and petty rage, + Penning a tart jobation + On practised Statesmen, must as much amuse + As Statesmen-sciolists venting vapid views + On rocks and revelation." + + (_To be continued._) + + * * * * * + +THE SOUTH-EASTERN ALPHABET. + + A was the Anger evinced far and wide; + B was the Boat-train delayed by the tide; + C was the Chairman who found nothing wrong; + D was the Driver who sang the same song; + E was the Engine that stuck on the way; + F stood for Folkestone, reached late every day; + G was the Grumble to which this gave rise; + H was the Hubbub Directors despise; + I was the Ink over vain letters used; + J were the Junctions which some one abused; + K was the Kick "Protest" got for its crimes; + L were the Letters it wrote to the _Times_; + M was the Meeting that probed the affair; + N was the Nothing that came of the scare; + O was the Overdue train on its way; + P was the Patience that bore the delay; + Q was the Question which struck everyone; + R the Reply which could satisfy none; + S was the Station where passengers wait; + T was the Time that they're bound to be late; + U was the Up-train an hour overdue; + V was the Vagueness its movements pursue; + W stood for time's general Waste; + X for Ex-press that could never make haste; + Y for the Wherefore and Why of this wrong; + And Z for the Zanies who stand it so long! + + * * * * * + +STARTLING FOR GOURMETS.--"_Bisques_ disallowed." But it only refers to a +new rule of the Lawn Tennis Association; so "_Bisque d'écrevisses_" will +still be preserved to us among the _embarras de richesse_--(_i.e._ the +trouble caused subsequently by the richness,--_free trans._)--of a +thoroughgoing French dinner. + + * * * * * + +THE NEW TUNE. + +[Illustration: ] + +_Le Brav' Général tootles_:-- + + Heroes bold owe much to bold songs. + What's that? "Cannot sing the old songs"? + Pooh! 'Tis a Britannic ditty. + Truth, though, in it,--more's the pity! + "_En revenant de la Revue._" + People tire of that--too true! + I must give them something new. + Played out, Frenchmen? _Pas de danger!_ + Whilst you've still your _Brav'_ BOULANGER! + + Do they think BOULANGER "mizzles," + After all his recent "fizzles"? + (Most expressive slang, the Yankee!) + _Pas si bête_, my friends. No thank ye! + Came a cropper? Very true! + But I remount--my hobby's new, + So's my trumpet. Rooey-too! + France go softly? _Pas de danger!_ + Whilst she has her _Brav'_ BOULANGER! + + Cannot say her looks quite flatter. + Rather scornful. What's the matter? + Have you lost your recent fancy + For me and my charger prancy? + Turn those eyes this way, now _do_! + Mark my hobby,--not a screw! + Listen to my _chanson_ new! + BISMARCK flout you? _Pas de danger!_ + _He's_ afraid of _Brav'_ BOULANGER. + + Of your smile be not so chary! + The sixteenth of February + Probably will prove my care is + The especial charge of Paris. + Then you'll know that I am true. + "_En revenant de la Revue_;" + Stick to me, I'll stick to you. + Part with you, sweet? _Pas de danger!_ + Not the game of _Brav'_ BOULANGER! + + * * * * * + +THE CAPTAIN OF THE "PARIS." + + Captain SHARP, of the Newhaven steamer, _Paris, you_'re no craven; + Grim and growling was the gale that you from your dead reckoning + bore; + And, but for your brave behaving, she might never have made haven, + But have foundered in mid-Channel, or been wrecked on a lee-shore. + With your paddle-floats unfeathered, wonder was it that you weathered + Such a storm as that of Sunday, which upset our nerves on land, + Though in fire-side comfort tethered. How it blew, and blared, + and blethered! + All your passengers, my Captain, say your pluck and skill were + grand. + Much to men like you is owing, when wild storms around are blowing, + As they seem to have been doing since the opening of the year: + Howling, hailing, sleeting, snowing; but for captains calm and + knowing, + Passage of our angry Channel were indeed a task of fear. + Well, you brought them safely through it, when not every man could do + it, + And your passengers, my Captain, are inspired with gratitude. + Therefore, _Mr. Punch_ thus thanks you, and right readily enranks you, + As a hero on the record of our briny island brood. + Verily the choice of "_Paris_" in this case proved right; and rare is + Fitness between name and nature such as that _you_ illustrate. + Captain SHARP! A proper _nomen_, and it proved a prosperous omen + To your passengers, whom _Punch_ must on their luck congratulate. + + * * * * * + +ON BOARD THE CHANNEL STEAMER "PARIS" (_Night of Saturday, January 25, +1890_).--"SHARP'S the word!" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: NOTHING LIKE A CHANGE! + +_Dr. Cockshure._ "MY GOOD SIR, WHAT _YOU_ WANT IS THOROUGH ALTERATION OF +CLIMATE. THE ONLY THING TO CURE _YOU_ IS A LONG SEA VOYAGE!" + +_Patient._ "THAT'S RATHER INCONVENIENT. YOU SEE I'M ONLY JUST HOME FROM +A SEA VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD!"] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +The title of the second chapter of _The Days of the Dandies_, in +_Blackwood_, is calculated to excite curiosity,--it is, "Some Great +Beauties, and some Social Celebrities." After reading the article, I +think it would have been styled more correctly, "A Few Great Beauties." +However, it is discursively amusing and interesting. There is much truth +in the paper on Modern Mannish Maidens. I hold that no number of a +Magazine is perfect without a tale of mystery and wonder, or a +ghost-story of some sort. I hope I have not overlooked one of these in +any Magazine for this month that I have seen. Last month there was a +good one in _Macmillan_, and another in _Belgravia_. I forget their +titles, unfortunately, and have mislaid the Magazines. But +_After-thoughts_, in this month's _Macmillan_, is well worth perusal. + +[Illustration: ] + +My faithful "Co." has been looking through the works of reference. He +complains that _Dod's Peerage, Baronetage, and Knighthood for 1890_ is +carelessly edited. He notes, as a sample, that Sir HENRY LELAND +HARRISON, who is said to have been born in 1857, is declared to have +entered the Indian Civil Service in 1860, when he was only three years +old--a manifest absurdity. As _Mr. Punch_ himself pointed out this +_bêtise_ in _Dod's &c., &c., for 1889_, it should have been corrected in +the new edition. "If this sort of thing continues," says the faithful +"Co.," "_Dod_ will be known as _Dodder_, or even _Dodderer_!" Sir +BERNARD BURKE'S _Genealogical and Heraldic Dictionary of the Peerage and +Baronetage_ is, in every sense, a noble volume, and seems to have been +compiled with the greatest care and accuracy. KELLY'S _Post Office +Directory_, of course, is a necessity to every man of letters. +_Whitaker's Almanack for 1890_ seems larger than usual, and better than +ever. WEBSTER'S _Royal Red Book_, and GARDINER'S _Royal Blue Book_, it +goes without saying, are both written by men of address. _The Century +Atlas and Gazetteer_ is a book amongst a hundred. Finally, the _Era +Almanack for 1890_, conducted by EDWARD LEDGER, is, as usual, full of +information concerning things theatrical--some of it gay, some of it +sad. "Replies to Questions by Actors and Actresses" is the liveliest +contribution in the little volume. The Obituary contains the name of +"EDWARD LITT LEMAN BLANCHARD," dramatist, novellist, and journalist, who +died on the 4th of September, 1889. It is hard to realise the _Era +Almanack_ without the excellent contributions of poor "E. L. B.!" + +"Co." furnishes some other notes in a livelier strain:-- + +_Matthew Prior._ (KEGAN PAUL.) If you are asked to go out in this +abominable weather, shelter yourself under the wing of Mr. AUSTIN +DOBSON, and plead a prior engagement. (Ha! Ha!) You will find the +engagement both prior and profitable. Mr. DOBSON'S introductory essay is +not only exhaustive, but in the highest degree interesting, and his +selection from the poems has been made with great taste and rare +discretion. + +_In the Garden of Dreams._ The lack of poets of the softer sex has been +recently a subject of remark. Lady-novelists we have in super-abundance, +of lady-dramatists we have more than enough, of lady-journalists we have +legions--but lady-poets we have but few. Possibly, they flourish more on +the other side of the Atlantic. At any rate we have a good example of +the American Muse in the latest volume by Mrs. LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON. +This little book is full of grace, its versification is melodious, and +has the genuine poetic ring about it, which is as rare as it is +acceptable. It can scarcely fail to find favour with English readers. + + BARON DE BOOK-WORMS & CO. + + * * * * * + +EPIDEMIOLOGICAL. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--The Camel is reported to be greatly instrumental in the +spread of cholera. This is evidently the Bacterian Camel, whose +humps--or is it hump?--have long been such a terror to those who really +don't care a bit how many humps an animal has. + +Yours faithfully, HUMPHRY CAMPBELL. + + * * * * * + +To THOSE WHO GET THEIR LIVING BY DYEING.--"Sweet Auburn!" exclaimed a +ruddy, aureate-haired lady of uncertain age,--anything, in fact, after +fifty,--"'Sweet Auburn!'" she repeated, musingly, "What does 'Sweet +Auburn' come from?" "Well," replied her husband, regarding her +_coiffure_ with an air of uncertainty, "I'm not quite sure, but I think +'Sweet Auburn' should be GRAY." + + * * * * * + +MR. PUNCH'S MORAL MUSIC-HALL DRAMAS. + +No. V.--BRUNETTE AND BLANCHIDINE. + +_A Melodramatic Didactic Vaudeville, suggested by "The Wooden Doll and +the Wax Doll." By the Misses Jane and Ann Taylor._ + +[Illustration:] + +DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. + +_Blanchidine_,} By the celebrated SISTERS STILTON, the Champion +_Brunette_. } Duettists and Clog-dancers. + + +_Fanny Furbelow._ By MISS SYLVIA SEALSKIN (_by kind permission of + the Gaiety Management_). + +_Frank Manly._ By MR. HENRY NEVILLE. + +SCENE--_A Sunny Glade in Kensington Gardens, between the Serpentine +and Round Pond_. + +_Enter_ BLANCHIDINE _and_ BRUNETTE, _with their arms thrown + affectionately around one another_. BLANCHIDINE _is carrying a large + and expressionless wooden doll_. + + _Duet and Step-dance._ + + _Bl._ Oh, I do adore BRUNETTE! (_Dances._) Tippity-tappity, + tappity-tippity, tippity-tappity, tip-tap! + + _Br_. BLANCHIDINE'S the sweetest pet! (_Dances._) Tippity-tappity, &c. + +_Together._ When the sun is high, + We come out to ply, + Nobody is nigh, + All is mirth and j'y! + + With a pairosol, + We'll protect our doll, + Make a mossy bed + For her wooden head! + + [_Combination step-dance, during which both watch their feet with an + air of detached and slightly amused interest, as if they belonged to + some other persons._ + + Clickity-clack, clickity-clack, clickity, clickity, clickity-clack; + clackity-clickity, clickity-clackity, clackity-clickity-_clack_! + + [_Repeat ad. lib._ + + _Bl._ (_apologetically to Audience_). Her taste in dress is rather + plain! (_Dances._) Tippity-tappity, &c. + + _Br._ (_in pitying aside_). It _is_ a pity she's so vain! + (_Dances._) Tippity-tappity, &c. + + _Bl._ 'Tis a shime to smoile, + But she's shocking stoyle, + It is quite a troyal, + Still--she mikes a foil! + + _Br._ Often I've a job + To suppress a sob, + She is such a snob, + When she meets a nob! [_Step-dance as before._ + + [_N.B.--In consideration of the well-known difficulty that most + popular variety-artists experience in the metrical delivery of + decasyllabic couplets, the lines which follow have been written as + they will most probably be spoken._ + + _Bl._ (_looking off with alarm_). Why, here comes FANNY FURBELOW, a + new frock from Paris in! She'll find me with BRUNETTE--it's too + embarrassing! + + [_Aside._ + _To Brunette._ BRUNETTE, my love, I know _such_ a pretty game we'll + play at-- + Poor TIMBURINA'S ill, and the seaside she ought to stay at. + (The Serpentine's the seaside, let's pretend,) + And _you_ shall take her there--(_hypocritically_)--you're such a + friend! + + _Br._ (_with simplicity_). Oh, yes, that _will_ be splendid, + BLANCHIDINE, + And then we can go and have a dip in a bathing-machine! + + [BLAN. _resigns the wooden doll to_ BRUN., _who skips off + with it_, L., _as_ FANNY FURBELOW _enters_, R., _carrying a + magnificent wax doll_. + + _Fanny_ (_languidly_). Ah, howdy do--_isn't_ this heat too frightful? + And so you're quite alone? + + _Bl._ (_nervously_). Oh, _quite_--oh yes, I always am alone, when + there's nobody with me. + + [_This is a little specimen of the Lady's humorous "gag," at + which she is justly considered a proficient._ + + _Fanny_ (_drawling_). Delightful! + When I was wondering, only a little while ago, + If I should meet a creature that I know; + Allow me--my new doll, the LADY MINNIE! + + _[Introducing doll._ + + _Bl._ (_rapturously_). Oh, what a perfect love! + + _Fanny_. She ought to be--for a guinea! + Here, you may nurse her for a little while. + Be careful, for her frock's the latest style. + + [_Gives_ BLAN. _the wax doll_. + + She's the best wax, and has three changes of clothing-- + For those cheap wooden dolls I've quite a loathing. + + _Bl._ (_hastily_). Oh, so have _I_--they're not to be endured! + + _Re-enter_ BRUNETTE _with the wooden doll, which she tries to + press upon_ BLANCHIDINE, _much to the latter's confusion_. + + _Br._ I've brought poor TIMBURINA back, completely cured! + Why, aren't you pleased? Your face is looking so cloudy! + + _F._ (_haughtily_). Is she a friend of _yours_--this little dowdy? + + [_Slow music._ + + _Bl._ (_after an internal struggle_). Oh, no, what an idea! Why, I + don't even know her by name! Some vulgar child ... + + [_Lets the wax doll fall unregarded on the gravel._ + + _Br._ (_indignantly_). Oh, what a horrid shame! + I see _now_ why you sent us to the Serpentine! + + _Bl._ (_heartlessly_). There's no occasion to flare up like turpentine. + + _Br._ (_ungrammatically_). I'm _not_! Disown your doll, and thrust me, + too, aside, + The one thing left for both of us is--suicide! + Yes, TIMBURINA, us no more she cherishes-- + _(Bitterly.)_ Well, the Round Pond a handy place to perish is! + + [_Rushes off stage with wooden doll._ + + _Bl._ (_making a feeble attempt to follow_). Come back, BRUNETTE; don't + leave me thus, in charity! + + _F._ (_with contempt_). Well, I'll be off--since you seem to prefer + vulgarity. + + _Bl._ No, stay--but--ah, she said--what if she _meant_ it? + + _F._ Not she! And, if she did, _we_ can't prevent it. + + _Bl._ (_relieved_). That's true--we'll play, and think no more about + her. + + _F._ (_sarcastically_). We may _just_ manage to get on without her! + So come--(_perceives doll lying face upwards on path_)--you odious + girl, what have you done? + Left LADY MINNIE lying in the blazing sun! + 'Twas done on purpose--oh, you _thing_ perfidious! [_Stamps._ + You _knew_ she'd melt, and get completely hideous! + Don't answer _me_, Miss--I wish we'd never met. + You're only fit for persons like BRUNETTE! + + [_Picks up doll, and exit in passion._ + + _Grand Sensation Descriptive Soliloquy, by_ BLANCHIDINE, _to + Melodramatic Music._ + + _Bl._ Gone! Ah, I am rightly punished! What would I not give now to + have homely little BRUNETTE, and dear old wooden-headed TIMBURINA back + again! _She_ wouldn't melt in the sun.... Where are they now? Great + Heavens! that threat--that rash resolve ... I remember all! 'Twas in + the direction of the Pond they vanished. (_Peeping anxiously between + trees._) Are they still in sight?... Yes, I see them! BRUNETTE has + reached the water's edge.... What is she purposing! Now she kneels on + the rough gravel; she is making TIMBURINA kneel too! How calm and + resolute they both appear! (_Shuddering._) I dare not look + further--but, ah, I must--_I must!_... Horror! I saw her boots flash + for an instant in the bright sunlight; and now the ripples have + closed, smiling over her little black stockings!... Help!--save her, + somebody!--help!... Joy! a gentleman has appeared on the scene--how + handsome, how brave he looks! He has taken in the situation at a + glance! With quiet composure he removes his coat--oh, _don't_ trouble + about folding it up!--and why, _why_ remove your gloves, when there is + not a moment to be lost? Now, with many injunctions, he entrusts his + watch to a bystander, who retires, overcome by emotion. And now--oh, + gallant, heroic soul!--now he is sending his toy terrier into the + seething water! (_Straining eagerly forward._) Ah, the dog paddles + bravely out--he has reached the spot ... oh, he has passed it!--he is + trying to catch a duck! Dog, dog, _is_ this a time for pursuing ducks? + At last he understands--he dives ... he brings up--agony! a small tin + cup! Again ... _this_ time, surely--what, only an old pot-hat!... Oh, + this dog is a fool! And still the Round Pond holds its dread secret! + Once more ... yes--no, yes, it _is_ TIMBURINA! Thank Heaven, she yet + breathes! But BRUNETTE? Can she have stuck in the mud at the bottom? + Ha, she, too, is rescued--saved--ha-ha-ha!--saved, saved, saved! + + [_Swoons hysterically, amid deafening applause._ + + _Enter_ FRANK MANLY, _supporting_ BRUNETTE, _who carries_ TIMBURINA. + + _Bl._ (_wildly_). What, do I see you safe, beloved BRUNETTE? + + _Br._ Yes, thanks to his courage, I'm not even _wet_! + + _Frank_ (_modestly_). Nay, spare your compliments. To rescue Beauty, + When in distress, is every hero's duty! + + _Bl._ BRUNETTE, forgive--I'm cured of all my folly! + + _Br._ (_heartily_). Of course I will, my dear, and so will dolly! + + [_Grand Trio and Step-dance, with "tippity-tappity," and + "clickity-clack" refrain as finale._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THE NEW GERMAN RIFLE." + +(A FANCY SKETCH OF ITS STARTLING APPEARANCE.) + +"The Regulations for the employment of the new German Infantry Rifle +have just been published. With regard to the capabilities of the new +rifle, the Regulations assert, that in this arm the German Infantry +possesses a weapon standing fully abreast of the time with a range such +as was heretofore held to be impossible of attainment."--_Standard, Jan. +25._] + + * * * * * + +ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. + +COMMEMORATION BIRTHDAY CONCERT.--The programme you are preparing, after +the fashion set the other evening in St. James's Hall, at an +entertainment organised in honour of the birthday of the poet BURNS, for +the purpose of paying a similar tribute to the memory of his great +fellow-countryman, Sir WALTER SCOTT, certainly promises well. As you +very truly point out that, as at the Concert which you are taking as +your model, though the name of BURNS was tacked on to nearly every item +in the programme, as if he had been responsible for the words, music and +all, it did not seem limited to the Poet's work alone, you might +certainly allow yourself the latitude you propose in arranging your own +scheme. The fact that, at the Burns Celebration, M. NACHEZ played his +own Hungarian dances, the connection between which and the Poet's +birthday is not, at first sight, entirely obvious, and that another +gentleman, with equal appropriateness, favoured the company with "_The +Death of Nelson_," on the trombone, seems certainly to give you a +warrant for the introduction you contemplate making, in commemoration of +Sir WALTER, of the Chinese Chopstick Mazurka, and the Woora-woora +Cannibal Islanders side-knife and sledge-hammer war-dance. It may of +course be possible, in a remote way, to introduce them, as you suggest, +into _Old Mortality_, but we should think you would be nearer the mark +with that other item of your programme, that associates _Jem Baggs_ with +_The Lay of the Last Minstrel_. Your idea of accepting and utilising the +offer of the GIRALFI family to introduce their Drawing-room +Entertainment into your programme seems excellent, and has certainly as +much in common with the Birthday of Sir WALTER SCOTT as the "_Death of +Nelson_," on the trombone, has with that of the distinguished Novelist's +great brother Poet. There is no reason, as you further point out, why +you should not organise a whole Series of Commemorative Birthday +Entertainments, as you think of doing, on the same plan, and with +BEETHOVEN, MACAULAY, Dr. JOHNSON, and WARREN HASTINGS, the celebrities +you mention, to begin upon, you ought to have no difficulty in working +in the solo on the big drum, the performance of the Learned Hyæna, the +Japanese Twenty-feet Bayonet-jump, and the other equally appropriate +attractions with which you are already in communication. Anyhow, begin +with Sir WALTER SCOTT, following the St. James's Hall lead, and let us +hear how you get on. + + * * * + +STRIKING WEDDING PRESENTS.--As you seem to think that a list of the +presents made to your young friends who are about to be married will in +all probability be published in some of the Society papers, "with the +names of the donors," we think, on the whole, we would advise you _not_ +to give them, as you seem rather inclined to do, those three hundred +weight of cheap sardines of which you became possessed through a seizure +of your agents for arrears of rent. You might certainly present them +with the disabled omnibus horse that came into your hands on the same +occasion. Horses are sometimes given as wedding presents. There were +four down in a list of gifts at a fashionable marriage only last week. +But, of course, it would not suit your purpose to appear as the donor of +a "damaged" creature. We think, perhaps, it would be wiser to accept the +five pounds offered you through the veterinary surgeon you mention, and +lay out the money, as you suggest, in sixteen hundred Japanese fans. If +it falls through, and you find the horse still on your hands, there is +no need to mention its association with the omnibus. "Mr. JOHN +JOHNSON--a riding horse," doesn't read badly. We almost think this is +better than the fans. Think it over. + + * * * * * + +THE LUXURY OF PANTOMIME. + +One day last week, after a struggle for life, Her Majesty's Theatre was +shut up, five hundred persons, so it was stated, lost employment, and +the _Cinderella_ family, proud sisters and all, nay, even the gallant +Prince himself, were turned adrift. Smiling, at the helm of the Drury +Lane Ship, stands AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS, who sees, not unmoved, the wreck +of "Her Majesty's Opposition," and murmurs to himself as _Jack and the +Beanstalk_ continues its successful course, "This is, indeed, the +survival of the fittest," and, charitably, DRURIOLANUS sends out a +life-boat entitled "Benefit Performance" to the rescue of the +shipwrecked crew. _Ave Cæsar_! + +From this disaster there results a moral, "which, when found," it would +be as well to "make a note of." It is this: as evidently London will +not, or cannot, support two Pantomimes, several Circuses, and a Show +like BARNUM'S, all through one winter, why try the experiment? +especially when the _luxe_ of Pantomime, fostered by DRURIOLANUS, is so +enormous, that any competitor must be forced into ruinous and even +reckless extravagance, in order to enter into anything like rivalry with +The Imperator who "holds the field" for Pantomime, just as he holds "The +Garden" for Opera, against all comers. + +These rival establishments only do harm to one another, spoil the public +by indulging their taste for magnificent spectacle, increasing in +gorgeousness every year, until true Pantomime will be overlaid with +jewelled armour, crushed under velvet and gold, and be lying helpless +under the weight of its own gorgeosity. We should question whether the +Olympian BARNUM has done much good for himself, seeing how gigantic the +expenses must be; and certainly he can't have done good to the theatres. +As to Shows, "The more the merrier" does not hold good. "The fewer the +better" is nearer the mark in every sense, and perhaps the experience of +this season may suggest even to DRURIOLANUS to give the public still +more fun for their money (and there is plenty of genuine fun in _Jack +and the Beanstalk_), with less show, in less time, and at consequently +less expense to himself, and with, therefore, bigger profits. We shall +see. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: + + "Mr. GLADSTONE desires that ALL LETTERS, &c., should be addressed to + him at 10, St. James's Square, London."--_Standard, Jan. 25._ + +Why should "all letters" be addressed to Mr. GLADSTONE? Isn't anybody +else to have any? How about Valentine's Day? Will "_all letters_" be +addressed to him then? If so--then the above Illustration conveys only a +feeble idea of the result.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: FELINE AMENITIES. + +_Fair Hostess_ (_to Mrs. Masham, who is looking her very best_). +"HOWDYDO, DEAR? I HOPE YOU'RE NOT SO TIRED AS YOU _LOOK_!"] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE FINISHING TOUCH; OR, PREPARING FOR MR. SPEAKER'S +PARTY. + +"THANK GOODNESS, HE'S READY AT LAST!"] + + * * * * * + +THE FINISHING TOUCH; + +OR, PREPARING FOR MR. SPEAKER'S PARTY. + +_Anxious Old (Legal) Nurses loquitur_:-- + + Ah! he's ready now, thanks be! + But a plaguier child than he + I am sure we Nusses three + Never dressed. + But at last we have got through; + Well-curled hair, and sash of blue! + Yes, we rather think he'll do, + Heaven be blessed! + + Ah! the awful time it took! + Never mind; by hook or crook + We have togged him trimly. Look! + There he stands! + His long wailings nearly hushed, + Buttoned, pinned, oiled, combed and brushed, + And his tight glove-fingers crushed + On his hands. + + Does us credit, don't you think? + How the chit would writhe and shrink, + Get his garments in a kink + Every way! + Awful handful, hot and heady, + Shuffling round, ne'er standing steady, + Feared we'd never get him ready + For the day. + + Mr. SPEAKER'S Party,--yes! + Hope he'll be a great success; + His clean face and natty dress + _Ought_ to please. + But there'll be no end of eyes + On his buttons, hooks, and ties; + Prompt to chaff and criticise, + Tear and tease. + + There'll be many an Irish boy + Who will find it his chief joy + To upset and to annoy + The young Turk; + And, with no particular call, + Try to make him squeal and squall, + Disarrange him, after all + Our hard work. + + Not to mention other lads, + Regular rowdy little Rads, + Full of ill-conditioned fads, + And mean spite; + Who will pinch and pull the hair + Of our charge who's standing there, + After all our patient care + Right and tight. + + For we know they don't like _us_, + And they're sure to scold and cuss + The tired three, and raise a fuss + And a pother + About Hopeful here. Heigho! + But he's ready, dears, to go. + Ah! they little little know + All our bother! + + On our hands heaven knows how long + We have had him. 'Twould be wrong + To indulge in language strong; + But how hearty + Is our joy that we have done! + There now, REPPY, off you run! + Only hope you'll have good fun + At the Party! + + * * * * * + +TO AN OLD FRIEND WITH A NEW WIG. + +Delighted to hear that our friend CHARLES HALL, A.D.C., Trin. Coll. +Cam., and Q.C., is likely to be made a Judge. Where will he sit? +Admiralty, Probate, and Divorce Court, where wreckage cases of ships and +married lives are heard? Health to the Judge that shall be, with a song +and chorus, if you please, Gentlemen, to the ancient air of "_Samuel +Hall_," revived for this occasion only:-- + + His name it is CHARLES HALL, + A.D.C. and Q.C., + His name it is CHARLES HALL. + In cases great and small + He's shone out since his call, + All agree. + + In Court of Admiral_tee_ + Did he drudge, (_bis_) + In Court of Admiraltee, + 'Bout lights and wrecks,--will he + Henceforth be less at sea + As a Judge? + +_Chorus._ + +(_To quite another tune, i.e., the refrain of_ GEORGE GROSSMITH'S _song, +"How I became an Actor."_) + + And each of his friends makes this remark, + (Retort he may with "Fudge!") + "Now wasn't I the first to say, you're sure + Some day to be a Judge!" + +It will be a touching spectacle, as, indeed, it always is to the +reflective mind, to see the new Judge sitting among the wrecks, like +"Marius among the Ruins." Fine subject for Sir FREDERICK, P.R.A., in the +next Academy Exhibition. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A DISTINCTION WITHOUT A DIFFERENCE (IN RESULT). + +"HULLO, JIM, WHATEVER MADE YOU COME OFF?"--"WHY, THE BRUTE +BUCKED!"--"BUCKED! NONSENSE, MAN, SHE ONLY COUGHED!"] + + * * * * * + +KICKED! + +(_By the Foot of Clara Groomley._) + +IN FOUR CHAPTERS.--III. + +Nothing done! The whole Detective force of London, having nothing better +to do, were placed at my disposal, and, after three weeks' search, they +found a girl called SMITH; but it was the wrong one. My darling is +_blonde_, and this was a dark, almost a black, SMITH. I came back to +Ryde in a passion and a third-class carriage. I find from Mademoiselle +that Miss SMITH has not yet returned. + +[Illustration: ] + +JAMES seemed pleased to see me, but he noticed that in my anxiety and +preoccupation I had forgotten to have my hat ironed. The hotel is quite +full, and I am to sleep in the Haunted Room to-night. + + * * * + +I am not a hysterical man, and this is not a neurotic story. It is, as a +matter of fact, the same old rot to which the shilling shockers have +made us accustomed. I cannot account in any way for my experiences last +night in the Haunted Room, but they certainly were not due to +nervousness. I had not been asleep long before I had a most curious and +vivid dream. I felt that I was not in the hotel, and that at the same +time I was not out of it. I had a curious sense of being everywhere in +general, and nowhere in particular. + +I saw before me a gorgeously furnished room. On the tiger-skin rug +before the fire was a basket with a crewel-worked chair-back spread over +it. _What was in the basket?_ Again and again I asked myself that +question. I felt like a long-division sum, and a cold shiver went down +my quotient. + +In one corner of the room stood a man of about thirty, with a handsome, +wicked face. One hand rested on the drawer of a writing-table. Slowly he +drew from it a folded paper, and read, in a harsh, raucous voice:-- + +"'To cleaning and repairing one----' No, that's not it." + +He selected another paper. Ah, it was the right one this time! + +"'Memorandum of Aunt JANE'S Will.' 'All property to go to ALICE SMITH, +unless Aunt JANE'S poodle, _Tommy Atkins_, dies before ALICE SMITH comes +of age. In which case, it all goes to me.' I remember making that note +when the will was read. And now"--he glanced at the covered +basket--"_Tommy_'s kicked the bucket. Well, he stood in my way. Who's to +know? But there must be no _post-mortem_, no 'vet' fetched in. Happy +thought--I'll have the brute stuffed." He knelt down by the side of the +basket, and slowly drew back the covering. "Ah!" he said--"it's cruel +work." + +Did he refer to the chair-back? or did he refer to the way in which, for +the sake of gain, an honest dog had been MURDERED? For there before my +eyes lay the dead poodle, _Tommy Atkins_! + +"ALICE loses all her money," he continued, "but that doesn't matter. She +tells me that she's picked up no end of a swell down at Ryde, and he may +marry her. The question is--will he?" Once more I felt like a division +sum. I yearned to call out loudly, and answer with a decided negative; +but no words came. My strength was gone. I was utterly worked out, and +there was no remainder. + +When I came to myself, I found JAMES, the waiter, standing by my bedside +with a gentleman whom I did not know. JAMES introduced him to me as a +Mr. ALKALOID, a photographer who was stopping in the hotel. Mr. ALKALOID +had been woken up by a wild shriek for a decided negative, and had +rushed down to see if he could do a little business. "Take you by the +electric light," he said; "just as you are,"--I was in my night-dress +and the old, old hat, the rim of which had been slightly +sprained,--"perfectly painless process, and money returned if not +satisfactory." I thanked him warmly, and apologised for having disturbed +him. + +I went to London on the following day. I felt it my positive duty to +explain that I should always regard ALICE SMITH as a sister, but nothing +more. + +I had quite forgotten that I did not know the house where ALICE SMITH +lived, and the poodle dog lay dead. + +(_Here ends the Narrative of_ CYRIL MUSH.) + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE SUMMONS TO DUTY. + +(_Design for a Parliamentary Cartoon, illustrating the Life of a Country +Member._)] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "EXCLUSIVE DEALING." + +_Irish Landlord_ (_boycotted_). "PAT, MY MAN, I'M IN NO END OF A HURRY. +PUT THE PONY TO, AND DRIVE ME TO THE STATION, AND I'LL GIVE YE HALF A +SOVEREIGN!" + +_Pat_ (_Nationalist, but needy_). "OCH SHURE, IT'S MORE THAN ME LOIFE IS +WORTH TO BE SEEN DROIVING _YOU_, YER HONOUR. BUT"--(_slily_)--"IF YER +HONOUR WOULD JIST DROIVE _ME_, MAYBE IT'S MESELF THAT MOIGHT VENTURE +IT!"] + + * * * * * + +"SWEET-MARJORIE!" + +[Illustration: Change for a Tenor. Wilfred of Huntington is succeeded by +that Man of Mark--Tapley.] + +Take it all in all, _Marjorie_ at the Prince of Wales' is a very +satisfactory production. The subject is English, the music is English, +and the "book" is English too. So when we applaud the new Opera, we have +the satisfaction of knowing that our cheers are given in the cause of +native talent triumphant. This is appropriate to the "time" of the play +(the commencement of the thirteenth century), which is the very epoch +when the Saxons were beginning to hold their own in the teeth of their +Norman conquerors. But leaving patriotism out of the question (a matter +which, it is to be feared, is not likely to influence Stalls, Pit, and +Gallery materially for a very lengthened period), the Opera _quâ_ Opera +is a very good one. The company is strong--so strong, that it hears the +loss of an accomplished songstress like Miss HUNTINGTON without severely +suffering. It is true that an excellent substitute for the lady has been +found in that tenor with the cheerful name, Mr. MARK TAPLEY, whose notes +are certainly worth their weight in gold; but leaving the +representatives of _Wilfred_ "outside the competition," the remainder of +the _Dramatis Personæ_ are excellent. They work well together, and +consequently the _ensemble_ is in the highest degree pleasing. + +Assistance of rather a graver character than usually associated with +comic opera is naturally afforded by Mr. HAYDYN COFFIN. Miss PHYLLIS +BROUGHTON is introduced not only to sing but to dance, and performs the +latter accomplishment with a grace not to be surpassed, and only to be +equalled by Miss KATE VAUGHAN. Mr. ASHLEY, now happily returned to the +melodious paths from which he strayed to play in pieces of the calibre +of _Pink Dominoes_, seems quite at home in the character of _Sir +Simon_--not "the Cellarer," but rather, "the sold one." Mr. MONKHOUSE, +whose name and personality go to prove that a cowl does not preclude its +occasional occupation by a wag, is most amusing as _Gosric_. Mr. ALBERT +JAMES is a lively jester, whose quips and cranks might have been of +considerable value to Mr. JOSEPH MILLER when that literary droll was +engaged in compiling his comic classic. Miss D'ARVILLE and Madame AMADI +both work with a will, and find a way to public favour. The dresses are +in excellent taste, and the scenery capital. + +That the _mise en scène_ is perfect, goes without saying, as this Opera +has been produced by that past master of stage-direction, the one and +only AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS. The dialogue is sufficiently pointed--not too +pointed, but pointed enough. It does not require a knowledge of the +niceties of the law, the regulations of the British army, or a keen +appreciation of the subtlest subtleties of logic to fully understand it. +It is amusing, and provocative of innocent laughter, which, after all, +seems to be a sufficient recommendation for words spoken within the +walls of a play-house. The music is full of melody--"quite killing," as +a young lady wittily observed, on noticing that the name of the Composer +was SLAUGHTER. So _Marjorie_ may be fairly said not only to have +deserved success, but (it is satisfactory to be able to add) also to +have attained it. + + ONE WHO HAS PRACTISED AT THE MUSICAL BAR. + + * * * * * + +STATESMEN AT HOME. + +DCXLIII. THE RIGHT HON. W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P., AT HAWARDEN. + +[Illustration: ] + +As you approach the historic home of the great English Statesman who is +to be your host to-day, you become conscious of the fact that there are +two Hawarden Castles. Moreover, as young HERBERT pleasantly remarks a +little later in the day, "You must draw a Hawarden-fast line between the +two." One, standing on a hill dominating a far-reaching tract of level +country, was already so old in the time of EDWARD THE FIRST that it was +found necessary to rebuild it. Looking through your Domesday Book (which +you always carry with you on these excursions), you find the mansion +referred to under the style of Haordine. This, antiquarians assume, is +the Saxonised form of the earlier British _Y Garthddin_, which, being +translated, means "The hill-fort on the projecting ridge." + +When WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR came over, bringing with him a following the +numerical proportions of which increase as the years roll by, he found +the Fort on the Hill held by EDWARD of Mercia, and deemed it convenient +to leave it in his possession. The Castle played its part in English +history down to the time, now 130 years gone by, when it came into the +hands of Sir JOHN GLYNN, and thence through long descent became an +inheritance of the gracious lady who, with cambric cap-strings streaming +in the free air of the Marches, joins your host in welcoming you. + +It is, however, not on the steps of the old castle of which Prince +LLEWELLYN was once lord that you are thus received. By the side of the +old ruin has grown up another Hawarden Castle, a roomy mansion, +statelily stuccoed, with sham turrets run up, buttresses, embrasures, +portholes, and portcullises, putting to shame the rugged, looped and +windowless ruin that still stands on the projecting ridge. This dates +only from the beginning of the century, and, looking upon it, your face +glows with honest pride, as you think how much better the generation +near your own made for itself dwelling-houses compared with the earlier +English. + +Whilst you stand musing on these things you are conscious of a whishing +sound, and a breath of swiftly moving cool air wantonly strikes your +cheek. You look up and behold! there is your host, axe in hand, +playfully performing a number of passes over your unconscious head. His +dress is designed admirably to suit the exercise. Coat and waistcoat are +doffed; the immortal collars are turned down, displaying the columnar +throat and the brawny chest; the snow-white shirt-sleeves are turned up +to the elbow, disclosing biceps that SAMSON would envy and SANDOW covet. +His braces are looped on either side of his supple hips, and his right +hand grasps the axe which, a moment ago had been performing over your +head a series of evolutions which, remarkable for the strength and +agility displayed, were, perhaps, scarcely desirable for daily +repetition. + +"Don't be frightened, TOBY M.P.," said the full rich voice so familiar +in the House of Commons; "it's our wild woodsman's way of welcoming the +coming guest. What do you think of my costume? Seen it before? Ah! +_yes_, the photographs. _Carte de visite style_, _10s. 6d._ a dozen; +Cabinet size, a guinea. I have been photographed several times as you +will observe." + +And, indeed, as your host leads you along the stately passages, through +the storied rooms, you find his photograph everywhere. The tables are +covered with them, showing your host in all attitudes and costumes. +"Yes," he says, with a sigh, "I think I have marched up to the camera's +mouth as often as most men of my years." + +Ascending the rustic staircase which leads from the garden, WILLIAM +EWART GLADSTONE takes you past the library into the drawing-room, in the +upper parts of the leaded windows of which are inserted panels of rare +old glass, cunningly obtained by melting superfluous Welsh ale bottles. +He leads you to a table, as round as that at which a famous Conference +was held, and points to a little ivory painting. It shows a chubby +little boy some two years of age, with rather large head and broad +shoulders, sitting at the knee of a young nymph approaching her fifth +year. On her knee is a book, and the chubby boy, with dark hair falling +low over his forehead, his great brown eyes staring frankly at you, +points with his finger to a passage. When you learn that this is a +portrait of your host and his sister taken in the year 1811, you +naturally come to the conclusion that the young lady has, for party +purposes, been misquoting some passages in her brother's speech, and +that he, having produced an authorised record of his address, is +triumphantly pointing to the text in controversion of her statement. + +Your host, chopping grimly at the furniture as he passes along--here +dexterously severing the leg of a Chippendale chair, and there hacking a +piece off a Louis Quatorze couch--leads the way to an annexe he has just +built for the reception of his treasured books. From the outside this +excrescence on the Castle has but a poverty-stricken look. It is, to +tell the truth, made of corrugated iron. But that is a cloak that +cunningly covers an interior of rare beauty and rich design. Arras of +cloth of gold hangs loosely on the walls, whilst here and there, on the +far-reaching floor, gleams the low light of a faded Turkey carpet. Open +tables, covered with broad cloths of crimson velvet, embroidered and +fringed with gold, carry innumerable Blue Books. On marble tables, +supported on carved and gilded frames, stand priceless vases, filled +with rare flowers. In crystal flagons you detect the sheen of amber +light (which may be sherry wine), whilst the ear is lulled with the +sound of fountains dispensing perfumes as of Araby. In an alcove, +chastely draped with violent violet velvet, the grey apes swing, and the +peacocks preen, on fretted pillar and jewelled screen. Horologes, to +chime the hours, and even the quarters, uprise from tables of +ebony-and-mother-of-pearl. Cabinets from Ind and Venice, of filligree +gold and silver, enclose complete sets of _Hansard's Parliamentary +Debates_; whilst lamps of silver, suspended from pendant pinnacles in +the fretted ceiling, shed a soft light over the varied mass of colour. + +Casting himself down lightly by a cabinet worked with Dutch beads +interspersed with seed-pearls, and toying with the gnarled handle of the +axe, the Right Hon. WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE tells you the story of his +life. At the outset you are a little puzzled to gather where exactly he +was born. At first you think it was in Scotland. Anon some town in +England claims the honour. Then Wales is incidentally mentioned, and +next the tearful voice of Erin claims her son. But, as the story goes +forward with long majestic stride, these difficulties fade in the +glamour of the Old Man's eloquence, and when you awake and find your +host has not yet got beyond the second course--the fish, as it were, of +the intellectual banquet--you say you will call again. + +Mention of the three courses naturally suggests dinner, and as you +evidently enjoy the monopoly of the mental association, you take your +leave, perhaps regretting that among his wild woodsman accessories your +host does not seem to include the midday chop. + + * * * * * + +GOLD-TIPPED cigarettes seem just now to be "the swagger thing." "Ah!" +Master TOMMY sighed, as he set off for school with only five shillings +in his pocket, in consequence of all his dearest--and nearest--relatives +being laid up with the prevailing epidemic, "Ah, how I should like to be +one of those cigarettes, and then I should be tipped with gold." + + * * * * * + + NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., + Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no + case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and + Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. 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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, Vol. 98, February 8, 1890</p> +<p>Author: Various</p> +<p>Editor: F. C. (Francis Cowley) Burnand</p> +<p>Release Date: September 19, 2009 [eBook #30033]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 98, FEBRUARY 8, 1890***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + +<h2>VOLUME 98.</h2> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2><span class="smcap">February 8, 1890.</span></h2> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> + +<h2>UNTILED; OR, THE MODERN ASMODEUS.</h2> + +<blockquote><p>"Très volontiers," repartit le démon. "Vous aimez les tableaux +changeans: je veux vous contenter."</p> + +<p><i>Le Diable Boiteux.</i></p></blockquote> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/061.png"> +<img src="images/061.png" width="100%" alt="Cartoon" /></a> +</div> + +<hr /><br /> + +<center>XIX.</center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"A Late Symposium! Yet they're not engaged</p> +<p class="i0">In compotations. Argument hath raged</p> +<p class="i2">Four hours by the dial;</p> +<p class="i0">But zealotry of party, creed, or clique</p> +<p class="i0">Marks not the clock, whilst of polemic pique</p> +<p class="i2">There's one unvoided vial."</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">So smiled the Shade. Dusk coat and gleaming head,</p> +<p class="i0">Viewed from above, before my gaze outspread</p> +<p class="i2">Like a black sea bespotted</p> +<p class="i0">With bare pink peaks of coral isles; all eyes</p> +<p class="i0">Were fixed on one who reeled out rhapsodies</p> +<p class="i2">In diction double-shotted.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">A long and lofty room, with pillars cold,</p> +<p class="i0">And spacious walls of chocolate and gold;</p> +<p class="i2">The solid sombre glory</p> +<p class="i0">Of tint oppressive and of tasteless shine,</p> +<p class="i0">Dear to the modern British Philistine,</p> +<p class="i2">Saint, sceptic, Whig, or Tory.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"No Samson-strength of intellect or taste</p> +<p class="i0">Shall bow the pillars of this temple chaste</p> +<p class="i2">Of ugliness and unction.</p> +<p class="i0">What is't they argue lengthily and late?</p> +<p class="i0">The flame of patriot passion for the State</p> +<p class="i2">Fires this polemic function.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"A caitiff Government has done a thing</p> +<p class="i0">To make its guardian-angel droop her wing</p> +<p class="i2">In sickened indignation:</p> +<p class="i0">That is, has striven to strengthen its redoubts,</p> +<p class="i0">Perfidious 'Ins,' to foil the eager 'Outs.'</p> +<p class="i2">Hence endless execration.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Hence all Wire-pullerdom is up in arms;</p> +<p class="i0">With clarion-toned excursions and alarms</p> +<p class="i2">The rival camp is ringing.</p> +<p class="i0">Hence perky commoners and pompous peers,</p> +<p class="i0">'Midst vehement applause and volleying cheers,</p> +<p class="i2">Stale platitudes are stringing.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"The British Public—some five hundred strong—</p> +<p class="i0">Is here to 'strangle a Gigantic Wrong,'—</p> +<p class="i2">So <span class="smcap">Marabout</span> is saying.</p> +<p class="i0">Watch his wide waistcoat and his wandering eyes,</p> +<p class="i0">His stamping boots of Brobdingnagian size,</p> +<p class="i2">Clenched hands, and shoulders swaying.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"A great Machine-man, <span class="smcap">Marabout!</span> He dotes</p> +<p class="i0">On programmes hectographed and Party votes.</p> +<p class="i2">For all his pasty pallor</p> +<p class="i0">And shifty glance, he has the mob's regard,</p> +<p class="i0">And he is deemed by council, club, and ward</p> +<p class="i2">A mighty man of valour.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"A purchased henchman to a Star of State?</p> +<p class="i0">Perhaps. But here he'll pose and perorate,</p> +<p class="i2">A Brutus vain and voluble.</p> +<p class="i0">And who, like <span class="smcap">Marabout</span>, with vocal flux</p> +<p class="i0">Of formulas, can settle every <i>crux</i></p> +<p class="i2">That wisdom finds insoluble?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"'Hear! hear!' That shibboleth of shallow souls</p> +<p class="i0">Around his ears in clamorous cadence rolls;</p> +<p class="i2">He swells, he glows, he twinkles;</p> +<p class="i0">The sapient Chairman wags his snowy pate,</p> +<p class="i0">Whilst cynic triumph, cautious yet elate,</p> +<p class="i2">Lurks laughing in his wrinkles.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"And there sits honest zeal, absorbed, intent,</p> +<p class="i0">And cheerfully credulous. <span class="smcap">Marabout</span> has bent</p> +<p class="i2">To the Commercial Dagon</p> +<p class="i0">He publicly derides; but many here</p> +<p class="i0">Will toast 'his genuine grit, his manly cheer,'</p> +<p class="i2">Over a friendly flagon.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Look on him later! There he snugly sits</p> +<p class="i0">With his rich patron. Were it war of wits</p> +<p class="i2">That wakes their crackling chuckles,</p> +<p class="i0">They scarce were heartier. It would strangely shock</p> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Marabout's</span> worshippers to hear him mock</p> +<p class="i2">The 'mob' to which he truckles.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Truckles in platform speech. In club-room chat</p> +<p class="i0">With <span class="smcap">Wagstaff</span>, shrewd wire-puller, flushed and fat,</p> +<p class="i2">Or <span class="smcap">Dodd</span>, the rich dry-salter,</p> +<p class="i0">You'd hear how supply he can shift and twist,</p> +<p class="i0">How <span class="smcap">Brutus</span> with 'the base Monopolist'</p> +<p class="i2">Can calmly plot and palter,"</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Whilst <span class="smcap">Marabouts</span> abound, O Shade," I cried,</p> +<p class="i0">"What wonder men are 'Mugwumps?'" Then my guide</p> +<p class="i2">Laughed low. "The æsthetic villa</p> +<p class="i0">Finds Shopdom's zeal on its fine senses jar;</p> +<p class="i0">Yet the Mugwumps Charybdis stands not far</p> +<p class="i2">From the Machine-man's Scylla.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Culture derides the Caucus for its heat,</p> +<p class="i0">Its hate—its absence of the Light and Sweet,</p> +<p class="i2">So jays might flout the vulture.</p> +<p class="i0">Partisan bitterness and purblind haste?</p> +<p class="i0">Come, view the haunts of dilettante Taste,</p> +<p class="i2">The coteries of Culture!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Here <i>Savants</i> wrangle o'er a fossil bone,</p> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Champer</span>, with curling lip and caustic tone,</p> +<p class="i2">At <span class="smcap">Ruddiman</span> is railing.</p> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Champer</span> knows everything, from <span class="smcap">Plato's</span> text</p> +<p class="i0">To Protoplasm; yet his soul is vext,</p> +<p class="i2">His cheeks with spite are paling.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Why? Because <span class="smcap">Ruddiman</span>, the rude, robust,</p> +<p class="i0">Has pierced with logic's vigorous vulgar thrust</p> +<p class="i2">The shield of icy polish.</p> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Champer</span>, in print, is hot on party-hate,</p> +<p class="i0">Here his one aim is in the rough debate</p> +<p class="i2">His rival to demolish.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"Sweet Reasonableness? Another host</p> +<p class="i0">Of sages see! The habits of the Ghost,</p> +<p class="i2">The Astral Body's action,</p> +<p class="i0">Absorb them, eager. Does more furious fire</p> +<p class="i0">The councils of the Caucusites inspire,</p> +<p class="i2">Or light the feuds of faction?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"And there? They argue out with toil intense</p> +<p class="i0">A 'cosmic' poet's esoteric sense,</p> +<p class="i2">Of which a world, unwitting,</p> +<p class="i0">Recks nothing. Yet how terribly they'd trounce</p> +<p class="i0">Parliament's pettifogging, and denounce</p> +<p class="i2">'Political hair-splitting'!"</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"O Shade, the difference is but small, one dreads.</p> +<p class="i0">Betwixt logomachists at loggerheads,</p> +<p class="i2">Whether their theme be bonnets</p> +<p class="i0">Or British interests. Zealot ardour burns</p> +<p class="i0">Scarce fiercer o'er Electoral Returns</p> +<p class="i2">Than over <span class="smcap">Shakspeare's</span> Sonnets.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"At <span class="smcap">Marabout</span> the Mugwump sniffs and sneers;</p> +<p class="i0">Gregarious 'votes of thanks' and sheepish 'cheers'</p> +<p class="i2">Stir him to satire scornful.</p> +<p class="i0">But when sleek Culture apes, irate and loud,</p> +<p class="i0">The follies of the Caucus and the Crowd,</p> +<p class="i2">The spectacle is mournful."</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"True!" smiled the Shade. "Yon supercilious sage,</p> +<p class="i0">With patent prejudice and petty rage,</p> +<p class="i2">Penning a tart jobation</p> +<p class="i0">On practised Statesmen, must as much amuse</p> +<p class="i0">As Statesmen-sciolists venting vapid views</p> +<p class="i2">On rocks and revelation."</p> +</div></div> + +<p class="author">(<i>To be continued.</i>)</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE SOUTH-EASTERN ALPHABET.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">A was the Anger evinced far and wide;</p> +<p class="i0">B was the Boat-train delayed by the tide;</p> +<p class="i0">C was the Chairman who found nothing wrong;</p> +<p class="i0">D was the Driver who sang the same song;</p> +<p class="i0">E was the Engine that stuck on the way;</p> +<p class="i0">F stood for Folkestone, reached late every day;</p> +<p class="i0">G was the Grumble to which this gave rise;</p> +<p class="i0">H was the Hubbub Directors despise;</p> +<p class="i0">I was the Ink over vain letters used;</p> +<p class="i0">J were the Junctions which some one abused;</p> +<p class="i0">K was the Kick "Protest" got for its crimes;</p> +<p class="i0">L were the Letters it wrote to the <i>Times</i>;</p> +<p class="i0">M was the Meeting that probed the affair;</p> +<p class="i0">N was the Nothing that came of the scare;</p> +<p class="i0">O was the Overdue train on its way;</p> +<p class="i0">P was the Patience that bore the delay;</p> +<p class="i0">Q was the Question which struck everyone;</p> +<p class="i0">R the Reply which could satisfy none;</p> +<p class="i0">S was the Station where passengers wait;</p> +<p class="i0">T was the Time that they're bound to be late;</p> +<p class="i0">U was the Up-train an hour overdue;</p> +<p class="i0">V was the Vagueness its movements pursue;</p> +<p class="i0">W stood for time's general Waste;</p> +<p class="i0">X for Ex-press that could never make haste;</p> +<p class="i0">Y for the Wherefore and Why of this wrong;</p> +<p class="i0">And Z for the Zanies who stand it so long!</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Startling for Gourmets.</span>—"<i>Bisques</i> disallowed." But it only refers to a +new rule of the Lawn Tennis Association; so "<i>Bisque d'écrevisses</i>" will +still be preserved to us among the <i>embarras de richesse</i>—(<i>i.e.</i> the +trouble caused subsequently by the richness,—<i>free trans.</i>)—of a +thoroughgoing French dinner.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> + +<h4>THE NEW TUNE.</h4> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/062.png"> +<img src="images/062.png" width="100%" alt="THE NEW TUNE." /></a> +</div> + +<center><i>Le Brav' Général tootles</i>:—</center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Heroes bold owe much to bold songs.</p> +<p class="i0">What's that? "Cannot sing the old songs"?</p> +<p class="i0">Pooh! 'Tis a Britannic ditty.</p> +<p class="i0">Truth, though, in it,—more's the pity!</p> +<p class="i0">"<i>En revenant de la Revue.</i>"</p> +<p class="i0">People tire of that—too true!</p> +<p class="i0">I must give them something new.</p> +<p class="i2">Played out, Frenchmen? <i>Pas de danger!</i></p> +<p class="i2">Whilst you've still your <i>Brav'</i> <span class="smcap">Boulanger</span>!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Do they think <span class="smcap">Boulanger</span> "mizzles,"</p> +<p class="i0">After all his recent "fizzles"?</p> +<p class="i0">(Most expressive slang, the Yankee!)</p> +<p class="i0"><i>Pas si bête</i>, my friends. No thank ye!</p> +<p class="i0">Came a cropper? Very true!</p> +<p class="i0">But I remount—my hobby's new,</p> +<p class="i0">So's my trumpet. Rooey-too!</p> +<p class="i2">France go softly? <i>Pas de danger!</i></p> +<p class="i2">Whilst she has her <i>Brav'</i> <span class="smcap">Boulanger</span>!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Cannot say her looks quite flatter.</p> +<p class="i0">Rather scornful. What's the matter?</p> +<p class="i0">Have you lost your recent fancy</p> +<p class="i0">For me and my charger prancy?</p> +<p class="i0">Turn those eyes this way, now <i>do</i>!</p> +<p class="i0">Mark my hobby,—not a screw!</p> +<p class="i0">Listen to my <i>chanson</i> new!</p> +<p class="i2"><span class="smcap">Bismarck</span> flout you? <i>Pas de danger!</i></p> +<p class="i2"><i>He's</i> afraid of <i>Brav'</i> <span class="smcap">Boulanger</span>.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Of your smile be not so chary!</p> +<p class="i0">The sixteenth of February</p> +<p class="i0">Probably will prove my care is</p> +<p class="i0">The especial charge of Paris.</p> +<p class="i0">Then you'll know that I am true.</p> +<p class="i0">"<i>En revenant de la Revue</i>;"</p> +<p class="i0">Stick to me, I'll stick to you.</p> +<p class="i2">Part with you, sweet? <i>Pas de danger!</i></p> +<p class="i2">Not the game of <i>Brav'</i> <span class="smcap">Boulanger</span>!</p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE CAPTAIN OF THE "PARIS."</h2> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Captain <span class="smcap">Sharp</span>, of the Newhaven steamer, <i>Paris, you</i>'re no craven;</p> +<p class="i2">Grim and growling was the gale that you from your dead reckoning bore;</p> +<p class="i0">And, but for your brave behaving, she might never have made haven,</p> +<p class="i2">But have foundered in mid-Channel, or been wrecked on a lee-shore.</p> +<p class="i0">With your paddle-floats unfeathered, wonder was it that you weathered</p> +<p class="i2">Such a storm as that of Sunday, which upset our nerves on land,</p> +<p class="i0">Though in fire-side comfort tethered. How it blew, and blared, and blethered!</p> +<p class="i2">All your passengers, my Captain, say your pluck and skill were grand.</p> +<p class="i0">Much to men like you is owing, when wild storms around are blowing,</p> +<p class="i2">As they seem to have been doing since the opening of the year:</p> +<p class="i0">Howling, hailing, sleeting, snowing; but for captains calm and knowing,</p> +<p class="i2">Passage of our angry Channel were indeed a task of fear.</p> +<p class="i0">Well, you brought them safely through it, when not every man could do it,</p> +<p class="i2">And your passengers, my Captain, are inspired with gratitude.</p> +<p class="i0">Therefore, <i>Mr. Punch</i> thus thanks you, and right readily enranks you,</p> +<p class="i2">As a hero on the record of our briny island brood.</p> +<p class="i0">Verily the choice of "<i>Paris</i>" in this case proved right; and rare is</p> +<p class="i2">Fitness between name and nature such as that <i>you</i> illustrate.</p> +<p class="i0">Captain <span class="smcap">Sharp</span>! A proper <i>nomen</i>, and it proved a prosperous omen</p> +<p class="i2">To your passengers, whom <i>Punch</i> must on their luck congratulate.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h4><span class="smcap">On Board the Channel Steamer "Paris"</span><br /> (<i>Night of Saturday, January 25, +1890</i>).—"<span class="smcap">Sharp's</span> the word!"</h4> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/063a.png"> +<img src="images/063a.png" width="100%" alt="NOTHING LIKE A CHANGE" /></a> +<h4>NOTHING LIKE A CHANGE!</h4> +<p><i>Dr. Cockshure.</i> "<span class="smcap">My good Sir, what <i>you</i> want is thorough alteration of +Climate. The only thing to Cure <i>you</i> is a long Sea Voyage!</span>"</p> +<p><i>Patient.</i> "<span class="smcap">That's rather inconvenient. You see I'm only just Home from +a Sea Voyage round the World!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<p>The title of the second chapter of <i>The Days of the Dandies</i>, in +<i>Blackwood</i>, is calculated to excite curiosity,—it is, "Some Great +Beauties, and some Social Celebrities." After reading the article, I +think it would have been styled more correctly, "A Few Great Beauties." +However, it is discursively amusing and interesting. There is much truth +in the paper on Modern Mannish Maidens. I hold that no number of a +Magazine is perfect without a tale of mystery and wonder, or a +ghost-story of some sort. I hope I have not overlooked one of these in +any Magazine for this month that I have seen. Last month there was a +good one in <i>Macmillan</i>, and another in <i>Belgravia</i>. I forget their +titles, unfortunately, and have mislaid the Magazines. But +<i>After-thoughts</i>, in this month's <i>Macmillan</i>, is well worth perusal.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/063b.png"> +<img src="images/063b.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a> +</div> + +<p>My faithful "Co." has been looking through the works of reference. He +complains that <i>Dod's Peerage, Baronetage, and Knighthood for 1890</i> is +carelessly edited. He notes, as a sample, that Sir <span class="smcap">Henry Leland +Harrison</span>, who is said to have been born in 1857, is declared to have +entered the Indian Civil Service in 1860, when he was only three years +old—a manifest absurdity. As <i>Mr. Punch</i> himself pointed out this +<i>bêtise</i> in <i>Dod's &c., &c., for 1889</i>, it should have been corrected in +the new edition. "If this sort of thing continues," says the faithful +"Co.," "<i>Dod</i> will be known as <i>Dodder</i>, or even <i>Dodderer</i>!" Sir +<span class="smcap">Bernard Burke's</span> <i>Genealogical and Heraldic Dictionary of the Peerage and +Baronetage</i> is, in every sense, a noble volume, and seems to have been +compiled with the greatest care and accuracy. <span class="smcap">Kelly's</span> <i>Post Office +Directory</i>, of course, is a necessity to every man of letters. +<i>Whitaker's Almanack for 1890</i> seems larger than usual, and better than +ever. <span class="smcap">Webster's</span> <i>Royal Red Book</i>, and <span class="smcap">Gardiner's</span> <i>Royal Blue Book</i>, it +goes without saying, are both written by men of address. <i>The Century +Atlas and Gazetteer</i> is a book amongst a hundred. Finally, the <i>Era +Almanack for 1890</i>, conducted by <span class="smcap">Edward Ledger</span>, is, as usual, full of +information concerning things theatrical—some of it gay, some of it +sad. "Replies to Questions by Actors and Actresses" is the liveliest +contribution in the little volume. The Obituary contains the name of +"<span class="smcap">Edward Litt Leman Blanchard</span>," dramatist, novellist, and journalist, who +died on the 4th of September, 1889. It is hard to realise the <i>Era +Almanack</i> without the excellent contributions of poor "E. L. B.!"</p> + +<p>"Co." furnishes some other notes in a livelier strain:—</p> + +<p><i>Matthew Prior.</i> (<span class="smcap">Kegan Paul.</span>) If you are asked to go out in this +abominable weather, shelter yourself under the wing of Mr. <span class="smcap">Austin +Dobson</span>, and plead a prior engagement. (Ha! Ha!) You will find the +engagement both prior and profitable. Mr. <span class="smcap">Dobson's</span> introductory essay is +not only exhaustive, but in the highest degree interesting, and his +selection from the poems has been made with great taste and rare +discretion.</p> + +<p><i>In the Garden of Dreams.</i> The lack of poets of the softer sex has been +recently a subject of remark. Lady-novelists we have in super-abundance, +of lady-dramatists we have more than enough, of lady-journalists we have +legions—but lady-poets we have but few. Possibly, they flourish more on +the other side of the Atlantic. At any rate we have a good example of +the American Muse in the latest volume by Mrs. <span class="smcap">Louise Chandler Moulton</span>. +This little book is full of grace, its versification is melodious, and +has the genuine poetic ring about it, which is as rare as it is +acceptable. It can scarcely fail to find favour with English readers.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Baron de Book-Worms & Co.</span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Epidemiological.</h4> + +<p>Dear Mr. Punch,—The Camel is reported to be greatly instrumental in the +spread of cholera. This is evidently the Bacterian Camel, whose +humps—or is it hump?—have long been such a terror to those who really +don't care a bit how many humps an animal has.</p> +<p class="regards">Yours faithfully,</p> +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Humphry Campbell</span>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>To <span class="smcap">Those who get their Living by Dyeing</span>.—"Sweet Auburn!" exclaimed a +ruddy, aureate-haired lady of uncertain age,—anything, in fact, after +fifty,—"'Sweet Auburn!'" she repeated, musingly, "What does 'Sweet +Auburn' come from?" "Well," replied her husband, regarding her +<i>coiffure</i> with an air of uncertainty, "I'm not quite sure, but I think +'Sweet Auburn' should be <span class="smcap">Gray</span>."</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> + +<h2>MR. PUNCH'S MORAL MUSIC-HALL DRAMAS.</h2> + +<h3>No. V.—BRUNETTE AND BLANCHIDINE.</h3> + +<center><i>A Melodramatic Didactic Vaudeville, suggested by "The Wooden Doll and +the Wax Doll." By the Misses Jane and Ann Taylor.</i></center><br /> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Dramatis Personæ.</span></h4> + +<p> +<i>Blanchidine</i>, } By the celebrated <span class="smcap">Sisters Stilton</span>, the<br /> +<i>Brunette</i>. } Champion Duettists and Clog-dancers.<br /><br /> +<i>Fanny Furbelow.</i> By <span class="smcap">Miss Sylvia Sealskin</span> (<i>by kind permission +of the Gaiety Management</i>).<br /> +<br /> +<i>Frank Manly.</i> By <span class="smcap">Mr. Henry Neville</span>. +</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Scene</span>—<i>A Sunny Glade in Kensington Gardens, between the Serpentine +and Round Pond</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Blanchidine</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>, <i>with their arms thrown +affectionately around one another</i>. <span class="smcap">Blanchidine</span> <i>is carrying a large +and expressionless wooden doll</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<div class="direction"><p><i>Duet and Step-dance.</i></p></div> + +<p> +<i>Bl.</i> Oh, I do adore <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>! (<i>Dances.</i>) Tippity-tappity, tappity-tippity, tippity-tappity, tip-tap!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Br</i>. <span class="smcap">Blanchidine's</span> the sweetest pet! (<i>Dances.</i>) Tippity-tappity, &c.</p><br /> +<br /> +<center><i>Together.</i></center><br /> + +<div class="centered table"> +<table summary="song"> +<tr><td>When the sun is high,</td></tr> +<tr><td>We come out to ply,</td></tr> +<tr><td>Nobody is nigh,</td></tr> +<tr><td>All is mirth and j'y!</td></tr> +<tr><td></td></tr> +<tr><td></td></tr> +<tr><td>With a pairosol,</td></tr> +<tr><td>We'll protect our doll,</td></tr> +<tr><td>Make a mossy bed</td></tr> +<tr><td>For her wooden head!</td></tr> +</table><br /> +<div class="direction">[<i>Combination step-dance, during which both watch their feet with an air +of detached and slightly amused interest, as if they belonged to some +other persons.</i></div></div> + +<p>Clickity-clack, clickity-clack, clickity, clickity, clickity-clack; +clackity-clickity, clickity-clackity, clackity-clickity-<i>clack</i>!</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Repeat ad. lib.</i></div> + +<p> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>apologetically to Audience</i>). Her taste in dress is rather plain! (<i>Dances.</i>) Tippity-tappity, &c.</p> + +<p><i>Br.</i> (<i>in pitying aside</i>). It <i>is</i> a pity she's so vain! (<i>Dances.</i>) Tippity-tappity, &c.</p> + +<i>Bl.</i> + +<div class="centered table"> +<table summary="song"> +<tr><td>'Tis a shime to smoile,</td></tr> +<tr><td>But she's shocking stoyle,</td></tr> +<tr><td>It is quite a troyal,</td></tr> +<tr><td>Still—she mikes a foil!</td></tr> +<tr><td></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p><i>Br.</i></p> +<div class="centered table"> +<table summary="song"> +<tr><td>Often I've a job</td></tr> +<tr><td>To suppress a sob,</td></tr> +<tr><td>She is such a snob,</td></tr> +<tr><td>When she meets a nob! </td></tr> +</table><br /> +</div> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Step-dance as before.</i></div> + +<blockquote><p>[<i>N.B.—In consideration of the well-known difficulty that most +popular variety-artists experience in the metrical delivery of +decasyllabic couplets, the lines which follow have been written as +they will most probably be spoken.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>looking off with alarm</i>). Why, here comes <span class="smcap">Fanny Furbelow</span>, a new frock from Paris in!<br /> +She'll find me with <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>—it's too embarrassing!<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Aside.</i></div> + +<p> +<i>To Brunette.</i> <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>, my love, I know <i>such</i> a pretty game we'll play at—<br /> +Poor <span class="smcap">Timburina's</span> ill, and the seaside she ought to stay at.<br /> +(The Serpentine's the seaside, let's pretend,)<br /> +And <i>you</i> shall take her there—(<i>hypocritically</i>)—you're such a friend!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Br.</i> (<i>with simplicity</i>). Oh, yes, that <i>will</i> be splendid, <span class="smcap">Blanchidine</span>,<br /> +And then we can go and have a dip in a bathing-machine!<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Blan.</span> <i>resigns the wooden doll to</i> <span class="smcap">Brun.</span>, <i>who skips off with it</i>, +<span class="smcap">L.</span>, <i>as</i> <span class="smcap">Fanny Furbelow</span> <i>enters</i>, <span class="smcap">R.</span>, <i>carrying a magnificent wax +doll</i>.</div> + +<p> +<i>Fanny</i> (<i>languidly</i>). Ah, howdy do—<i>isn't</i> this heat too frightful?<br /> +And so you're quite alone?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>nervously</i>). Oh, <i>quite</i>—oh yes, I always am alone, when there's nobody with me.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>This is a little specimen of the Lady's humorous "gag," at which +she is justly considered a proficient.</i></div> + +<p> +<i>Fanny</i> (<i>drawling</i>). Delightful!<br /> +When I was wondering, only a little while ago,<br /> +If I should meet a creature that I know;<br /> +Allow me—my new doll, the <span class="smcap">Lady Minnie</span>!<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction"><i>[Introducing doll.</i></div> + +<p> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>rapturously</i>). Oh, what a perfect love!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Fanny</i>. She ought to be—for a guinea!<br /> +Here, you may nurse her for a little while.<br /> +Be careful, for her frock's the latest style.<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Gives</i> <span class="smcap">Blan</span>. <i>the wax doll</i>.</div> + +<p> +She's the best wax, and has three changes of clothing—<br /> +For those cheap wooden dolls I've quite a loathing.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>hastily</i>). Oh, so have <i>I</i>—they're not to be endured!<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction"><i>Re-enter</i> <span class="smcap">Brunette</span> <i>with the wooden doll, which she tries to press +upon</i> <span class="smcap">Blanchidine</span>, <i>much to the latter's confusion</i>.</div> + +<p> +<i>Br.</i> I've brought poor <span class="smcap">Timburina</span> back, completely cured!<br /> +Why, aren't you pleased? Your face is looking so cloudy!<br /> +<br /> +<i>F.</i> (<i>haughtily</i>). Is she a friend of <i>yours</i>—this little dowdy?<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Slow music.</i></div> + +<p> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>after an internal struggle</i>). Oh, no, what an idea! Why, I don't even know her by name!<br /> +Some vulgar child ...</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Lets the wax doll fall unregarded on the gravel.</i></div> + +<p> +<i>Br.</i> (<i>indignantly</i>). Oh, what a horrid shame!<br /> +I see <i>now</i> why you sent us to the Serpentine!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>heartlessly</i>). There's no occasion to flare up like turpentine.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Br.</i> (<i>ungrammatically</i>). I'm <i>not</i>! Disown your doll, and thrust me, too, aside,<br /> +The one thing left for both of us is—suicide!<br /> +Yes, <span class="smcap">Timburina</span>, us no more she cherishes—<br /> +<i>(Bitterly.)</i> Well, the Round Pond a handy place to perish is!<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Rushes off stage with wooden doll.</i></div> + +<p> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>making a feeble attempt to follow</i>). Come back, <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>; don't leave me thus, in charity!<br /> +<br /> +<i>F.</i> (<i>with contempt</i>). Well, I'll be off—since you seem to prefer vulgarity.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bl.</i> No, stay—but—ah, she said—what if she <i>meant</i> it?<br /> +<br /> +<i>F.</i> Not she! And, if she did, <i>we</i> can't prevent it.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Bl.</i> (<i>relieved</i>). That's true—we'll play, and think no more about her.<br /> +<br /> +<i>F.</i> (<i>sarcastically</i>). We may <i>just</i> manage to get on without her!<br /> +So come—(<i>perceives doll lying face upwards on path</i>)—you odious girl, what have you done?<br /> +Left <span class="smcap">Lady Minnie</span> lying in the blazing sun!<br /> +'Twas done on purpose—oh, you <i>thing</i> perfidious!</p> +<div class="direction">[<i>Stamps.</i></div> +<p>You <i>knew</i> she'd melt, and get completely hideous!<br /> +Don't answer <i>me</i>, Miss—I wish we'd never met.<br /> +You're only fit for persons like <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>!<br /> +</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Picks up doll, and exit in passion.</i></div><br /><br /> + +<center><i>Grand Sensation Descriptive Soliloquy, by</i> <span class="smcap">Blanchidine</span>, <i>to +Melodramatic Music.</i></center> + +<p><i>Bl.</i> Gone! Ah, I am rightly punished! What would I not give now to have +homely little <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>, and dear old wooden-headed <span class="smcap">Timburina</span> back again! +<i>She</i> wouldn't melt in the sun.... Where are they now? Great Heavens! +that threat—that rash resolve ... I remember all! 'Twas in the +direction of the Pond they vanished. (<i>Peeping anxiously between +trees.</i>) Are they still in sight?... Yes, I see them! <span class="smcap">Brunette</span> has +reached the water's edge.... What is she purposing! Now she kneels on +the rough gravel; she is making <span class="smcap">Timburina</span> kneel too! How calm and +resolute they both appear! (<i>Shuddering.</i>) I dare not look further—but, +ah, I must—<i>I must!</i>... Horror! I saw her boots flash for an instant in +the bright sunlight; and now the ripples have closed, smiling over her +little black stockings!... Help!—save her, somebody!—help!... Joy! a +gentleman has appeared on the scene—how handsome, how brave he looks! +He has taken in the situation at a glance! With quiet composure he +removes his coat—oh, <i>don't</i> trouble about folding it up!—and why, +<i>why</i> remove your gloves, when there is not a moment to be lost? Now, +with many injunctions, he entrusts his watch to a bystander, who +retires, overcome by emotion. And now—oh, gallant, heroic soul!—now he +is sending his toy terrier into the seething water! (<i>Straining eagerly +forward.</i>) Ah, the dog paddles bravely out—he has reached the spot ... +oh, he has passed it!—he is trying to catch a duck! Dog, dog, <i>is</i> this +a time for pursuing ducks? At last he understands—he dives ... he +brings up—agony! a small tin cup! Again ... <i>this</i> time, surely—what, +only an old pot-hat!... Oh, this dog is a fool! And still the Round Pond +holds its dread secret! Once more ... yes—no, yes, it <i>is</i> <span class="smcap">Timburina</span>! +Thank Heaven, she yet breathes! But <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>? Can she have stuck in the +mud at the bottom? Ha, she, too, is rescued—saved—ha-ha-ha!—saved, +saved, saved!</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/064.png"> +<img src="images/064.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a> +</div> + +<p>[<i>Swoons hysterically, amid deafening applause.</i></p> + +<p><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Frank Manly</span>, <i>supporting</i> <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>, <i>who carries</i> <span class="smcap">Timburina</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Bl.</i> (<i>wildly</i>). What, do I see you safe, beloved <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Br.</i> Yes, thanks to his courage, I'm not even <i>wet</i>!</p> + +<p><i>Frank</i> (<i>modestly</i>). Nay, spare your compliments. To rescue Beauty, +When in distress, is every hero's duty!</p> + +<p><i>Bl.</i> <span class="smcap">Brunette</span>, forgive—I'm cured of all my folly!</p> + +<p><i>Br.</i> (<i>heartily</i>). Of course I will, my dear, and so will dolly!</p> + +<div class="direction">[<i>Grand Trio and Step-dance, with "tippity-tappity," and +"clickity-clack" refrain as finale.</i></div><br /> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/065a.png"> +<img src="images/065a.png" width="100%" alt="THE NEW GERMAN RIFLE" /></a> +<h4>"THE NEW GERMAN RIFLE."</h4> +<h5>(<span class="smcap">A Fancy Sketch of its Startling Appearance</span>.)</h5> +<p>"The Regulations for the employment of the new German Infantry Rifle +have just been published. With regard to the capabilities of the new +rifle, the Regulations assert, that in this arm the German Infantry +possesses a weapon standing fully abreast of the time with a range such +as was heretofore held to be impossible of attainment."—<i>Standard, Jan. +25.</i></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Commemoration Birthday Concert</span>.—The programme you are preparing, after +the fashion set the other evening in St. James's Hall, at an +entertainment organised in honour of the birthday of the poet <span class="smcap">Burns</span>, for +the purpose of paying a similar tribute to the memory of his great +fellow-countryman, Sir <span class="smcap">Walter Scott</span>, certainly promises well. As you +very truly point out that, as at the Concert which you are taking as +your model, though the name of <span class="smcap">Burns</span> was tacked on to nearly every item +in the programme, as if he had been responsible for the words, music and +all, it did not seem limited to the Poet's work alone, you might +certainly allow yourself the latitude you propose in arranging your own +scheme. The fact that, at the Burns Celebration, <span class="smcap">M. Nachez</span> played his +own Hungarian dances, the connection between which and the Poet's +birthday is not, at first sight, entirely obvious, and that another +gentleman, with equal appropriateness, favoured the company with "<i>The +Death of Nelson</i>," on the trombone, seems certainly to give you a +warrant for the introduction you contemplate making, in commemoration of +Sir <span class="smcap">Walter</span>, of the Chinese Chopstick Mazurka, and the Woora-woora +Cannibal Islanders side-knife and sledge-hammer war-dance. It may of +course be possible, in a remote way, to introduce them, as you suggest, +into <i>Old Mortality</i>, but we should think you would be nearer the mark +with that other item of your programme, that associates <i>Jem Baggs</i> with +<i>The Lay of the Last Minstrel</i>. Your idea of accepting and utilising the +offer of the <span class="smcap">Giralfi</span> family to introduce their Drawing-room +Entertainment into your programme seems excellent, and has certainly as +much in common with the Birthday of Sir <span class="smcap">Walter Scott</span> as the "<i>Death of +Nelson</i>," on the trombone, has with that of the distinguished Novelist's +great brother Poet. There is no reason, as you further point out, why +you should not organise a whole Series of Commemorative Birthday +Entertainments, as you think of doing, on the same plan, and with +<span class="smcap">Beethoven</span>, <span class="smcap">Macaulay</span>, Dr. <span class="smcap">Johnson</span>, and <span class="smcap">Warren Hastings</span>, the celebrities +you mention, to begin upon, you ought to have no difficulty in working +in the solo on the big drum, the performance of the Learned Hyæna, the +Japanese Twenty-feet Bayonet-jump, and the other equally appropriate +attractions with which you are already in communication. Anyhow, begin +with Sir <span class="smcap">Walter Scott</span>, following the St. James's Hall lead, and let us +hear how you get on.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Striking Wedding Presents</span>.—As you seem to think that a list of the +presents made to your young friends who are about to be married will in +all probability be published in some of the Society papers, "with the +names of the donors," we think, on the whole, we would advise you <i>not</i> +to give them, as you seem rather inclined to do, those three hundred +weight of cheap sardines of which you became possessed through a seizure +of your agents for arrears of rent. You might certainly present them +with the disabled omnibus horse that came into your hands on the same +occasion. Horses are sometimes given as wedding presents. There were +four down in a list of gifts at a fashionable marriage only last week. +But, of course, it would not suit your purpose to appear as the donor of +a "damaged" creature. We think, perhaps, it would be wiser to accept the +five pounds offered you through the veterinary surgeon you mention, and +lay out the money, as you suggest, in sixteen hundred Japanese fans. If +it falls through, and you find the horse still on your hands, there is +no need to mention its association with the omnibus. "Mr. <span class="smcap">John +Johnson</span>—a riding horse," doesn't read badly. We almost think this is +better than the fans. Think it over.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE LUXURY OF PANTOMIME.</h2> + +<p>One day last week, after a struggle for life, Her Majesty's Theatre was +shut up, five hundred persons, so it was stated, lost employment, and +the <i>Cinderella</i> family, proud sisters and all, nay, even the gallant +Prince himself, were turned adrift. Smiling, at the helm of the Drury +Lane Ship, stands <span class="smcap">Augustus Druriolanus</span>, who sees, not unmoved, the wreck +of "Her Majesty's Opposition," and murmurs to himself as <i>Jack and the +Beanstalk</i> continues its successful course, "This is, indeed, the +survival of the fittest," and, charitably, <span class="smcap">Druriolanus</span> sends out a +life-boat entitled "Benefit Performance" to the rescue of the +shipwrecked crew. <i>Ave Cæsar</i>!</p> + +<p>From this disaster there results a moral, "which, when found," it would +be as well to "make a note of." It is this: as evidently London will +not, or cannot, support two Pantomimes, several Circuses, and a Show +like <span class="smcap">Barnum's</span>, all through one winter, why try the experiment? +especially when the <i>luxe</i> of Pantomime, fostered by <span class="smcap">Druriolanus</span>, is so +enormous, that any competitor must be forced into ruinous and even +reckless extravagance, in order to enter into anything like rivalry with +The Imperator who "holds the field" for Pantomime, just as he holds "The +Garden" for Opera, against all comers.</p> + +<p>These rival establishments only do harm to one another, spoil the public +by indulging their taste for magnificent spectacle, increasing in +gorgeousness every year, until true Pantomime will be overlaid with +jewelled armour, crushed under velvet and gold, and be lying helpless +under the weight of its own gorgeosity. We should question whether the +Olympian <span class="smcap">Barnum</span> has done much good for himself, seeing how gigantic the +expenses must be; and certainly he can't have done good to the theatres. +As to Shows, "The more the merrier" does not hold good. "The fewer the +better" is nearer the mark in every sense, and perhaps the experience of +this season may suggest even to <span class="smcap">Druriolanus</span> to give the public still +more fun for their money (and there is plenty of genuine fun in <i>Jack +and the Beanstalk</i>), with less show, in less time, and at consequently +less expense to himself, and with, therefore, bigger profits. We shall +see.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 65%"> +<a href="images/065b.png"> +<img src="images/065b.png" width="100%" alt="Gladstone desires" /></a><br /><br /> +<p>"Mr. <span class="smcap">Gladstone</span> desires that <span class="smcap">ALL LETTERS</span>, &c., should be addressed to +him at 10, St. James's Square, London."—<i>Standard, Jan. 25.</i></p> +<p>Why should "all letters" be addressed to Mr. <span class="smcap">Gladstone</span>? Isn't anybody +else to have any? How about Valentine's Day? Will "<i>all letters</i>" be +addressed to him then? If so—then the above Illustration conveys only a +feeble idea of the result.</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/066.png"> +<img src="images/066.png" width="100%" alt="FELINE AMENITIES." /></a> +<h4>FELINE AMENITIES.</h4> +<p><i>Fair Hostess</i> (<i>to Mrs. Masham, who is looking her very best</i>). +"<span class="smcap">Howdydo, Dear? I hope you're not so Tired as you <i>look</i></span>!"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE FINISHING TOUCH;</h2> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Or, Preparing for Mr. Speaker's Party</span>.</h4> + +<center><i>Anxious Old (Legal) Nurses loquitur</i>:—</center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Ah! he's ready now, thanks be!</p> +<p class="i0">But a plaguier child than he</p> +<p class="i0">I am sure we Nusses three</p> +<p class="i10">Never dressed.</p> +<p class="i0">But at last we have got through;</p> +<p class="i0">Well-curled hair, and sash of blue!</p> +<p class="i0">Yes, we rather think he'll do,</p> +<p class="i10">Heaven be blessed!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Ah! the awful time it took!</p> +<p class="i0">Never mind; by hook or crook</p> +<p class="i0">We have togged him trimly. Look!</p> +<p class="i10">There he stands!</p> +<p class="i0">His long wailings nearly hushed,</p> +<p class="i0">Buttoned, pinned, oiled, combed and brushed,</p> +<p class="i0">And his tight glove-fingers crushed</p> +<p class="i10">On his hands.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Does us credit, don't you think?</p> +<p class="i0">How the chit would writhe and shrink,</p> +<p class="i0">Get his garments in a kink</p> +<p class="i10">Every way!</p> +<p class="i0">Awful handful, hot and heady,</p> +<p class="i0">Shuffling round, ne'er standing steady,</p> +<p class="i0">Feared we'd never get him ready</p> +<p class="i10">For the day.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Mr. <span class="smcap">Speaker's</span> Party,—yes!</p> +<p class="i0">Hope he'll be a great success;</p> +<p class="i0">His clean face and natty dress</p> +<p class="i10"><i>Ought</i> to please.</p> +<p class="i0">But there'll be no end of eyes</p> +<p class="i0">On his buttons, hooks, and ties;</p> +<p class="i0">Prompt to chaff and criticise,</p> +<p class="i10">Tear and tease.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">There'll be many an Irish boy</p> +<p class="i0">Who will find it his chief joy</p> +<p class="i0">To upset and to annoy</p> +<p class="i10">The young Turk;</p> +<p class="i0">And, with no particular call,</p> +<p class="i0">Try to make him squeal and squall,</p> +<p class="i0">Disarrange him, after all</p> +<p class="i10">Our hard work.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Not to mention other lads,</p> +<p class="i0">Regular rowdy little Rads,</p> +<p class="i0">Full of ill-conditioned fads,</p> +<p class="i10">And mean spite;</p> +<p class="i0">Who will pinch and pull the hair</p> +<p class="i0">Of our charge who's standing there,</p> +<p class="i0">After all our patient care</p> +<p class="i10">Right and tight.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">For we know they don't like <i>us</i>,</p> +<p class="i0">And they're sure to scold and cuss</p> +<p class="i0">The tired three, and raise a fuss</p> +<p class="i10">And a pother</p> +<p class="i0">About Hopeful here. Heigho!</p> +<p class="i0">But he's ready, dears, to go.</p> +<p class="i0">Ah! they little little know</p> +<p class="i10">All our bother!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">On our hands heaven knows how long</p> +<p class="i0">We have had him. 'Twould be wrong</p> +<p class="i0">To indulge in language strong;</p> +<p class="i10">But how hearty</p> +<p class="i0">Is our joy that we have done!</p> +<p class="i0">There now, <span class="smcap">Reppy</span>, off you run!</p> +<p class="i0">Only hope you'll have good fun</p> +<p class="i10">At the Party!</p> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/067.png"> +<img src="images/067.png" width="100%" alt="THE FINISHING TOUCH" /></a> +<h4>THE FINISHING TOUCH; OR, PREPARING FOR MR. SPEAKER'S PARTY.</h4> +<p>"<span class="smcap">THANK GOODNESS, HE'S READY AT LAST</span>!"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>TO AN OLD FRIEND WITH A NEW WIG.</h2> + +<p>Delighted to hear that our friend <span class="smcap">Charles Hall</span>, A.D.C., Trin. Coll. +Cam., and Q.C., is likely to be made a Judge. Where will he sit? +Admiralty, Probate, and Divorce Court, where wreckage cases of ships and +married lives are heard? Health to the Judge that shall be, with a song +and chorus, if you please, Gentlemen, to the ancient air of "<i>Samuel +Hall</i>," revived for this occasion only:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">His name it is <span class="smcap">Charles Hall</span>,</p> +<p class="i10">A.D.C. and Q.C.,</p> +<p class="i0">His name it is <span class="smcap">Charles Hall</span>.</p> +<p class="i0">In cases great and small</p> +<p class="i0">He's shone out since his call,</p> +<p class="i10">All agree.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">In Court of Admiral<i>tee</i></p> +<p class="i10">Did he drudge, (<i>bis</i>)</p> +<p class="i0">In Court of Admiraltee,</p> +<p class="i0">'Bout lights and wrecks,—will he</p> +<p class="i0">Henceforth be less at sea</p> +<p class="i10">As a Judge?</p> +</div></div> + +<center><i>Chorus.</i><br /><br /> +(<i>To quite another tune, i.e., the refrain of</i> <span class="smcap">George Grossmith's</span> <i>song, +"How I became an Actor."</i>)</center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">And each of his friends makes this remark,</p> +<p class="i6">(Retort he may with "Fudge!")</p> +<p class="i0">"Now wasn't I the first to say, you're sure</p> +<p class="i6">Some day to be a Judge!"</p> +</div></div> + +<p>It will be a touching spectacle, as, indeed, it always is to the +reflective mind, to see the new Judge sitting among the wrecks, like +"Marius among the Ruins." Fine subject for Sir <span class="smcap">Frederick</span>, P.R.A., in the +next Academy Exhibition.</p> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/069a.png"> +<img src="images/069a.png" width="100%" alt="A DISTINCTION WITHOUT A DIFFERENCE" /></a> +<h4>A DISTINCTION WITHOUT A DIFFERENCE (IN RESULT).</h4> +<p><span class="smcap">"Hullo, Jim, whatever made you come off?"—"Why, the Brute +bucked!"—"Bucked! Nonsense, Man, she only Coughed!"</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>KICKED!</h2> + +<h4>(<i>By the Foot of Clara Groomley.</i>)<br /><br /> + +<span class="smcap">In Four Chapters.—III.</span></h4> + +<p>Nothing done! The whole Detective force of London, having nothing better +to do, were placed at my disposal, and, after three weeks' search, they +found a girl called <span class="smcap">Smith</span>; but it was the wrong one. My darling is +<i>blonde</i>, and this was a dark, almost a black, <span class="smcap">Smith</span>. I came back to +Ryde in a passion and a third-class carriage. I find from Mademoiselle +that Miss <span class="smcap">Smith</span> has not yet returned.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">James</span> seemed pleased to see me, but he noticed that in my anxiety and +preoccupation I had forgotten to have my hat ironed. The hotel is quite +full, and I am to sleep in the Haunted Room to-night.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>I am not a hysterical man, and this is not a neurotic story. It is, as a +matter of fact, the same old rot to which the shilling shockers have +made us accustomed. I cannot account in any way for my experiences last +night in the Haunted Room, but they certainly were not due to +nervousness. I had not been asleep long before I had a most curious and +vivid dream. I felt that I was not in the hotel, and that at the same +time I was not out of it. I had a curious sense of being everywhere in +general, and nowhere in particular.</p> + +<p>I saw before me a gorgeously furnished room. On the tiger-skin rug +before the fire was a basket with a crewel-worked chair-back spread over +it. <i>What was in the basket?</i> Again and again I asked myself that +question. I felt like a long-division sum, and a cold shiver went down +my quotient.</p> + +<p>In one corner of the room stood a man of about thirty, with a handsome, +wicked face. One hand rested on the drawer of a writing-table. Slowly he +drew from it a folded paper, and read, in a harsh, raucous voice:—</p> + +<p>"'To cleaning and repairing one——' No, that's not it."</p> + +<p>He selected another paper. Ah, it was the right one this time!</p> + +<p>"'Memorandum of Aunt <span class="smcap">Jane's</span> Will.' 'All property to go to <span class="smcap">Alice Smith</span>, +unless Aunt <span class="smcap">Jane's</span> poodle, <i>Tommy Atkins</i>, dies before <span class="smcap">Alice Smith</span> comes +of age. In which case, it all goes to me.' I remember making that note +when the will was read. And now"—he glanced at the covered +basket—"<i>Tommy</i>'s kicked the bucket. Well, he stood in my way. Who's to +know? But there must be no <i>post-mortem</i>, no 'vet' fetched in. Happy +thought—I'll have the brute stuffed." He knelt down by the side of the +basket, and slowly drew back the covering. "Ah!" he said—"it's cruel +work."</p> + +<p>Did he refer to the chair-back? or did he refer to the way in which, for +the sake of gain, an honest dog had been MURDERED? For there before my +eyes lay the dead poodle, <i>Tommy Atkins</i>!</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Alice</span> loses all her money," he continued, "but that doesn't matter. She +tells me that she's picked up no end of a swell down at Ryde, and he may +marry her. The question is—will he?" Once more I felt like a division +sum. I yearned to call out loudly, and answer with a decided negative; +but no words came. My strength was gone. I was utterly worked out, and +there was no remainder.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/069b.png"> +<img src="images/069b.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a> +</div> + +<p>When I came to myself, I found <span class="smcap">James</span>, the waiter, standing by my bedside +with a gentleman whom I did not know. <span class="smcap">James</span> introduced him to me as a +Mr. <span class="smcap">Alkaloid</span>, a photographer who was stopping in the hotel. Mr. <span class="smcap">Alkaloid</span> +had been woken up by a wild shriek for a decided negative, and had +rushed down to see if he could do a little business. "Take you by the +electric light," he said; "just as you are,"—I was in my night-dress +and the old, old hat, the rim of which had been slightly +sprained,—"perfectly painless process, and money returned if not +satisfactory." I thanked him warmly, and apologised for having disturbed +him.</p> + +<p>I went to London on the following day. I felt it my positive duty to +explain that I should always regard <span class="smcap">Alice Smith</span> as a sister, but nothing +more.</p> + +<p>I had quite forgotten that I did not know the house where <span class="smcap">Alice Smith</span> +lived, and the poodle dog lay dead.</p> + +<center>(<i>Here ends the Narrative of</i> <span class="smcap">Cyril Mush.</span>)</center><br /> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/070.png"> +<img src="images/070.png" width="100%" alt="THE SUMMONS TO DUTY" /></a> +<h4>THE SUMMONS TO DUTY.</h4> +<center>(<i>Design for a Parliamentary Cartoon, illustrating the Life of a Country +Member.</i>)</center> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/071a.png"> +<img src="images/071a.png" width="100%" alt="EXCLUSIVE DEALING." /></a> +<h4>"EXCLUSIVE DEALING."</h4> +<p><i>Irish Landlord</i> (<i>boycotted</i>). "<span class="smcap">Pat, my man, I'm in no end of a hurry. +Put the Pony to, and drive me to the Station, and I'll give ye Half a +Sovereign</span>!"</p> +<p><i>Pat</i> (<i>Nationalist, but needy</i>). "<span class="smcap">Och shure, it's more than me Loife is +worth to be seen droiving <i>you</i>, yer Honour. But"</span>—(<i>slily</i>)—<span class="smcap">"if yer +Honour would jist Droive <i>me</i>, maybe it's meself that moight venture +it!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>"SWEET-MARJORIE!"</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/071b.png"> +<img src="images/071b.png" width="100%" alt="Change for a Tenor" /></a><br /><br /> +<p>Change for a Tenor. Wilfred of Huntington is succeeded by +that Man of Mark—Tapley.</p> +</div> + +<p>Take it all in all, <i>Marjorie</i> at the Prince of "Wales' is a very +satisfactory production. The subject is English, the music is English, +and the "book" is English too. So when we applaud the new Opera, we have +the satisfaction of knowing that our cheers are given in the cause of +native talent triumphant. This is appropriate to the "time" of the play +(the commencement of the thirteenth century), which is the very epoch +when the Saxons were beginning to hold their own in the teeth of their +Norman conquerors. But leaving patriotism out of the question (a matter +which, it is to be feared, is not likely to influence Stalls, Pit, and +Gallery materially for a very lengthened period), the Opera <i>quâ</i> Opera +is a very good one. The company is strong—so strong, that it hears the +loss of an accomplished songstress like Miss <span class="smcap">Huntington</span> without severely +suffering. It is true that an excellent substitute for the lady has been +found in that tenor with the cheerful name, Mr. <span class="smcap">Mark Tapley</span>, whose notes +are certainly worth their weight in gold; but leaving the +representatives of <i>Wilfred</i> "outside the competition," the remainder of +the <i>Dramatis Personæ</i> are excellent. They work well together, and +consequently the <i>ensemble</i> is in the highest degree pleasing.</p> + +<p>Assistance of rather a graver character than usually associated with +comic opera is naturally afforded by Mr. <span class="smcap">Haydyn Coffin</span>. Miss <span class="smcap">Phyllis +Broughton</span> is introduced not only to sing but to dance, and performs the +latter accomplishment with a grace not to be surpassed, and only to be +equalled by Miss <span class="smcap">Kate Vaughan</span>. Mr. <span class="smcap">Ashley</span>, now happily returned to the +melodious paths from which he strayed to play in pieces of the calibre +of <i>Pink Dominoes</i>, seems quite at home in the character of <i>Sir +Simon</i>—not "the Cellarer," but rather, "the sold one." Mr. <span class="smcap">Monkhouse</span>, +whose name and personality go to prove that a cowl does not preclude its +occasional occupation by a wag, is most amusing as <i>Gosric</i>. Mr. <span class="smcap">Albert +James</span> is a lively jester, whose quips and cranks might have been of +considerable value to Mr. <span class="smcap">Joseph Miller</span> when that literary droll was +engaged in compiling his comic classic. Miss <span class="smcap">D'arville</span> and Madame <span class="smcap">Amadi</span> +both work with a will, and find a way to public favour. The dresses are +in excellent taste, and the scenery capital.</p> + +<p>That the <i>mise en scène</i> is perfect, goes without saying, as this Opera +has been produced by that past master of stage-direction, the one and +only <span class="smcap">Augustus Druriolanus</span>. The dialogue is sufficiently pointed—not too +pointed, but pointed enough. It does not require a knowledge of the +niceties of the law, the regulations of the British army, or a keen +appreciation of the subtlest subtleties of logic to fully understand it. +It is amusing, and provocative of innocent laughter, which, after all, +seems to be a sufficient recommendation for words spoken within the +walls of a play-house. The music is full of melody—"quite killing," as +a young lady wittily observed, on noticing that the name of the Composer +was <span class="smcap">Slaughter</span>. So <i>Marjorie</i> may be fairly said not only to have +deserved success, but (it is satisfactory to be able to add) also to +have attained it.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">One Who has Practised at the Musical Bar</span>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> + +<h2>STATESMEN AT HOME.</h2> + +<center>DCXLIII. <span class="smcap">The Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, M.P., at Hawarden.</span></center> + +<div class="figleft1" style="width:100%"> +<img src="images/072a.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon top" /> +</div> + +<div class="figleft2" style="width:61%"> +<img src="images/072b.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon bottom" /> +</div> + +<p><b><sub>S</sub></b> you approach the historic home of the great English Statesman who is +to be your host to-day, you become conscious of the fact that there are +two Hawarden Castles. Moreover, as young <span class="smcap">Herbert</span> pleasantly remarks a +little later in the day, "You must draw a Hawarden-fast line between the +two." One, standing on a hill dominating a far-reaching tract of level +country, was already so old in the time of <span class="smcap">Edward the First</span> that it was +found necessary to rebuild it. Looking through your Domesday Book (which +you always carry with you on these excursions), you find the mansion +referred to under the style of Haordine. This, antiquarians assume, is +the Saxonised form of the earlier British <i>Y Garthddin</i>, which, being +translated, means "The hill-fort on the projecting ridge."</p> + +<p>When <span class="smcap">William the Conqueror</span> came over, bringing with him a following the +numerical proportions of which increase as the years roll by, he found +the Fort on the Hill held by <span class="smcap">Edward</span> of Mercia, and deemed it convenient +to leave it in his possession. The Castle played its part in English +history down to the time, now 130 years gone by, when it came into the +hands of Sir <span class="smcap">John Glynn</span>, and thence through long descent became an +inheritance of the gracious lady who, with cambric cap-strings streaming +in the free air of the Marches, joins your host in welcoming you.</p> + +<p>It is, however, not on the steps of the old castle of which Prince +<span class="smcap">Llewellyn</span> was once lord that you are thus received. By the side of the +old ruin has grown up another Hawarden Castle, a roomy mansion, +statelily stuccoed, with sham turrets run up, buttresses, embrasures, +portholes, and portcullises, putting to shame the rugged, looped and +windowless ruin that still stands on the projecting ridge. This dates +only from the beginning of the century, and, looking upon it, your face +glows with honest pride, as you think how much better the generation +near your own made for itself dwelling-houses compared with the earlier +English.</p> + +<p>Whilst you stand musing on these things you are conscious of a whishing +sound, and a breath of swiftly moving cool air wantonly strikes your +cheek. You look up and behold! there is your host, axe in hand, +playfully performing a number of passes over your unconscious head. His +dress is designed admirably to suit the exercise. Coat and waistcoat are +doffed; the immortal collars are turned down, displaying the columnar +throat and the brawny chest; the snow-white shirt-sleeves are turned up +to the elbow, disclosing biceps that <span class="smcap">Samson</span> would envy and <span class="smcap">Sandow</span> covet. +His braces are looped on either side of his supple hips, and his right +hand grasps the axe which, a moment ago had been performing over your +head a series of evolutions which, remarkable for the strength and +agility displayed, were, perhaps, scarcely desirable for daily +repetition.</p> + +<p>"Don't be frightened, <span class="smcap">Toby</span> M.P.," said the full rich voice so familiar +in the House of Commons; "it's our wild woodsman's way of welcoming the +coming guest. What do you think of my costume? Seen it before? Ah! +<i>yes</i>, the photographs. <i>Carte de visite style</i>, <i>10s. 6d.</i> a dozen; +Cabinet size, a guinea. I have been photographed several times as you +will observe."</p> + +<p>And, indeed, as your host leads you along the stately passages, through +the storied rooms, you find his photograph everywhere. The tables are +covered with them, showing your host in all attitudes and costumes. +"Yes," he says, with a sigh, "I think I have marched up to the camera's +mouth as often as most men of my years."</p> + +<p>Ascending the rustic staircase which leads from the garden, <span class="smcap">William +Ewart Gladstone</span> takes you past the library into the drawing-room, in the +upper parts of the leaded windows of which are inserted panels of rare +old glass, cunningly obtained by melting superfluous Welsh ale bottles. +He leads you to a table, as round as that at which a famous Conference +was held, and points to a little ivory painting. It shows a chubby +little boy some two years of age, with rather large head and broad +shoulders, sitting at the knee of a young nymph approaching her fifth +year. On her knee is a book, and the chubby boy, with dark hair falling +low over his forehead, his great brown eyes staring frankly at you, +points with his finger to a passage. When you learn that this is a +portrait of your host and his sister taken in the year 1811, you +naturally come to the conclusion that the young lady has, for party +purposes, been misquoting some passages in her brother's speech, and +that he, having produced an authorised record of his address, is +triumphantly pointing to the text in controversion of her statement.</p> + +<p>Your host, chopping grimly at the furniture as he passes along—here +dexterously severing the leg of a Chippendale chair, and there hacking a +piece off a Louis Quatorze couch—leads the way to an annexe he has just +built for the reception of his treasured books. From the outside this +excrescence on the Castle has but a poverty-stricken look. It is, to +tell the truth, made of corrugated iron. But that is a cloak that +cunningly covers an interior of rare beauty and rich design. Arras of +cloth of gold hangs loosely on the walls, whilst here and there, on the +far-reaching floor, gleams the low light of a faded Turkey carpet. Open +tables, covered with broad cloths of crimson velvet, embroidered and +fringed with gold, carry innumerable Blue Books. On marble tables, +supported on carved and gilded frames, stand priceless vases, filled +with rare flowers. In crystal flagons you detect the sheen of amber +light (which may be sherry wine), whilst the ear is lulled with the +sound of fountains dispensing perfumes as of Araby. In an alcove, +chastely draped with violent violet velvet, the grey apes swing, and the +peacocks preen, on fretted pillar and jewelled screen. Horologes, to +chime the hours, and even the quarters, uprise from tables of +ebony-and-mother-of-pearl. Cabinets from Ind and Venice, of filligree +gold and silver, enclose complete sets of <i>Hansard's Parliamentary +Debates</i>; whilst lamps of silver, suspended from pendant pinnacles in +the fretted ceiling, shed a soft light over the varied mass of colour.</p> + +<p>Casting himself down lightly by a cabinet worked with Dutch beads +interspersed with seed-pearls, and toying with the gnarled handle of the +axe, the Right Hon. <span class="smcap">William Ewart Gladstone</span> tells you the story of his +life. At the outset you are a little puzzled to gather where exactly he +was born. At first you think it was in Scotland. Anon some town in +England claims the honour. Then Wales is incidentally mentioned, and +next the tearful voice of Erin claims her son. But, as the story goes +forward with long majestic stride, these difficulties fade in the +glamour of the Old Man's eloquence, and when you awake and find your +host has not yet got beyond the second course—the fish, as it were, of +the intellectual banquet—you say you will call again.</p> + +<p>Mention of the three courses naturally suggests dinner, and as you +evidently enjoy the monopoly of the mental association, you take your +leave, perhaps regretting that among his wild woodsman accessories your +host does not seem to include the midday chop.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gold-tipped</span> cigarettes seem just now to be "the swagger thing." "Ah!" +Master <span class="smcap">Tommy</span> sighed, as he set off for school with only five shillings +in his pocket, in consequence of all his dearest—and nearest—relatives +being laid up with the prevailing epidemic, "Ah, how I should like to be +one of those cigarettes, and then I should be tipped with gold."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 5%"> +<a href="images/072c.gif"> +<img src="images/072c.gif" width="100%" alt="pointing finger" /></a> +</div> + +<blockquote><p>NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., +Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no +case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and +Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no +exception.</p></blockquote> + +<p> </p> +<hr class="pg" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOL. 98, FEBRUARY 8, 1890***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 30033-h.txt or 30033-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/0/0/3/30033">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/0/3/30033</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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C. (Francis Cowley) Burnand + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98, February 8, 1890 + + +Author: Various + +Editor: F. C. (Francis Cowley) Burnand + +Release Date: September 19, 2009 [eBook #30033] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, +VOL. 98, FEBRUARY 8, 1890*** + + +E-text prepared by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 30033-h.htm or 30033-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30033/30033-h/30033-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30033/30033-h.zip) + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI + +VOL. 98. + +FEBRUARY 8, 1890. + + + + + + + +[Illustration: ] + +UNTILED; OR, THE MODERN ASMODEUS. + + "Tres volontiers," repartit le demon. "Vous aimez les tableaux + changeans: je veux vous contenter." + +_Le Diable Boiteux._ + + XIX. + + "A Late Symposium! Yet they're not engaged + In compotations. Argument hath raged + Four hours by the dial; + But zealotry of party, creed, or clique + Marks not the clock, whilst of polemic pique + There's one unvoided vial." + + So smiled the Shade. Dusk coat and gleaming head, + Viewed from above, before my gaze outspread + Like a black sea bespotted + With bare pink peaks of coral isles; all eyes + Were fixed on one who reeled out rhapsodies + In diction double-shotted. + + A long and lofty room, with pillars cold, + And spacious walls of chocolate and gold; + The solid sombre glory + Of tint oppressive and of tasteless shine, + Dear to the modern British Philistine, + Saint, sceptic, Whig, or Tory. + + "No Samson-strength of intellect or taste + Shall bow the pillars of this temple chaste + Of ugliness and unction. + What is't they argue lengthily and late? + The flame of patriot passion for the State + Fires this polemic function. + + "A caitiff Government has done a thing + To make its guardian-angel droop her wing + In sickened indignation: + That is, has striven to strengthen its redoubts, + Perfidious 'Ins,' to foil the eager 'Outs.' + Hence endless execration. + + "Hence all Wire-pullerdom is up in arms; + With clarion-toned excursions and alarms + The rival camp is ringing. + Hence perky commoners and pompous peers, + 'Midst vehement applause and volleying cheers, + Stale platitudes are stringing. + + "The British Public--some five hundred strong-- + Is here to 'strangle a Gigantic Wrong,'-- + So MARABOUT is saying. + Watch his wide waistcoat and his wandering eyes, + His stamping boots of Brobdingnagian size, + Clenched hands, and shoulders swaying. + + "A great Machine-man, MARABOUT! He dotes + On programmes hectographed and Party votes. + For all his pasty pallor + And shifty glance, he has the mob's regard, + And he is deemed by council, club, and ward + A mighty man of valour. + + "A purchased henchman to a Star of State? + Perhaps. But here he'll pose and perorate, + A Brutus vain and voluble. + And who, like MARABOUT, with vocal flux + Of formulas, can settle every _crux_ + That wisdom finds insoluble? + + "'Hear! hear!' That shibboleth of shallow souls + Around his ears in clamorous cadence rolls; + He swells, he glows, he twinkles; + The sapient Chairman wags his snowy pate, + Whilst cynic triumph, cautious yet elate, + Lurks laughing in his wrinkles. + + "And there sits honest zeal, absorbed, intent, + And cheerfully credulous. MARABOUT has bent + To the Commercial Dagon + He publicly derides; but many here + Will toast 'his genuine grit, his manly cheer,' + Over a friendly flagon. + + "Look on him later! There he snugly sits + With his rich patron. Were it war of wits + That wakes their crackling chuckles, + They scarce were heartier. It would strangely shock + MARABOUT'S worshippers to hear him mock + The 'mob' to which he truckles. + + "Truckles in platform speech. In club-room chat + With WAGSTAFF, shrewd wire-puller, flushed and fat, + Or DODD, the rich dry-salter, + You'd hear how supply he can shift and twist, + How BRUTUS with 'the base Monopolist' + Can calmly plot and palter," + + "Whilst MARABOUTS abound, O Shade," I cried, + "What wonder men are 'Mugwumps?'" Then my guide + Laughed low. "The aesthetic villa + Finds Shopdom's zeal on its fine senses jar; + Yet the Mugwumps Charybdis stands not far + From the Machine-man's Scylla. + + "Culture derides the Caucus for its heat, + Its hate--its absence of the Light and Sweet, + So jays might flout the vulture. + Partisan bitterness and purblind haste? + Come, view the haunts of dilettante Taste, + The coteries of Culture! + + "Here _Savants_ wrangle o'er a fossil bone, + CHAMPER, with curling lip and caustic tone, + At RUDDIMAN is railing. + CHAMPER knows everything, from PLATO'S text + To Protoplasm; yet his soul is vext, + His cheeks with spite are paling. + + "Why? Because RUDDIMAN, the rude, robust, + Has pierced with logic's vigorous vulgar thrust + The shield of icy polish. + CHAMPER, in print, is hot on party-hate, + Here his one aim is in the rough debate + His rival to demolish. + + "Sweet Reasonableness? Another host + Of sages see! The habits of the Ghost, + The Astral Body's action, + Absorb them, eager. Does more furious fire + The councils of the Caucusites inspire, + Or light the feuds of faction? + + "And there? They argue out with toil intense + A 'cosmic' poet's esoteric sense, + Of which a world, unwitting, + Recks nothing. Yet how terribly they'd trounce + Parliament's pettifogging, and denounce + 'Political hair-splitting'!" + + "O Shade, the difference is but small, one dreads. + Betwixt logomachists at loggerheads, + Whether their theme be bonnets + Or British interests. Zealot ardour burns + Scarce fiercer o'er Electoral Returns + Than over SHAKSPEARE'S Sonnets. + + "At MARABOUT the Mugwump sniffs and sneers; + Gregarious 'votes of thanks' and sheepish 'cheers' + Stir him to satire scornful. + But when sleek Culture apes, irate and loud, + The follies of the Caucus and the Crowd, + The spectacle is mournful." + + "True!" smiled the Shade. "Yon supercilious sage, + With patent prejudice and petty rage, + Penning a tart jobation + On practised Statesmen, must as much amuse + As Statesmen-sciolists venting vapid views + On rocks and revelation." + + (_To be continued._) + + * * * * * + +THE SOUTH-EASTERN ALPHABET. + + A was the Anger evinced far and wide; + B was the Boat-train delayed by the tide; + C was the Chairman who found nothing wrong; + D was the Driver who sang the same song; + E was the Engine that stuck on the way; + F stood for Folkestone, reached late every day; + G was the Grumble to which this gave rise; + H was the Hubbub Directors despise; + I was the Ink over vain letters used; + J were the Junctions which some one abused; + K was the Kick "Protest" got for its crimes; + L were the Letters it wrote to the _Times_; + M was the Meeting that probed the affair; + N was the Nothing that came of the scare; + O was the Overdue train on its way; + P was the Patience that bore the delay; + Q was the Question which struck everyone; + R the Reply which could satisfy none; + S was the Station where passengers wait; + T was the Time that they're bound to be late; + U was the Up-train an hour overdue; + V was the Vagueness its movements pursue; + W stood for time's general Waste; + X for Ex-press that could never make haste; + Y for the Wherefore and Why of this wrong; + And Z for the Zanies who stand it so long! + + * * * * * + +STARTLING FOR GOURMETS.--"_Bisques_ disallowed." But it only refers to a +new rule of the Lawn Tennis Association; so "_Bisque d'ecrevisses_" will +still be preserved to us among the _embarras de richesse_--(_i.e._ the +trouble caused subsequently by the richness,--_free trans._)--of a +thoroughgoing French dinner. + + * * * * * + +THE NEW TUNE. + +[Illustration: ] + +_Le Brav' General tootles_:-- + + Heroes bold owe much to bold songs. + What's that? "Cannot sing the old songs"? + Pooh! 'Tis a Britannic ditty. + Truth, though, in it,--more's the pity! + "_En revenant de la Revue._" + People tire of that--too true! + I must give them something new. + Played out, Frenchmen? _Pas de danger!_ + Whilst you've still your _Brav'_ BOULANGER! + + Do they think BOULANGER "mizzles," + After all his recent "fizzles"? + (Most expressive slang, the Yankee!) + _Pas si bete_, my friends. No thank ye! + Came a cropper? Very true! + But I remount--my hobby's new, + So's my trumpet. Rooey-too! + France go softly? _Pas de danger!_ + Whilst she has her _Brav'_ BOULANGER! + + Cannot say her looks quite flatter. + Rather scornful. What's the matter? + Have you lost your recent fancy + For me and my charger prancy? + Turn those eyes this way, now _do_! + Mark my hobby,--not a screw! + Listen to my _chanson_ new! + BISMARCK flout you? _Pas de danger!_ + _He's_ afraid of _Brav'_ BOULANGER. + + Of your smile be not so chary! + The sixteenth of February + Probably will prove my care is + The especial charge of Paris. + Then you'll know that I am true. + "_En revenant de la Revue_;" + Stick to me, I'll stick to you. + Part with you, sweet? _Pas de danger!_ + Not the game of _Brav'_ BOULANGER! + + * * * * * + +THE CAPTAIN OF THE "PARIS." + + Captain SHARP, of the Newhaven steamer, _Paris, you_'re no craven; + Grim and growling was the gale that you from your dead reckoning + bore; + And, but for your brave behaving, she might never have made haven, + But have foundered in mid-Channel, or been wrecked on a lee-shore. + With your paddle-floats unfeathered, wonder was it that you weathered + Such a storm as that of Sunday, which upset our nerves on land, + Though in fire-side comfort tethered. How it blew, and blared, + and blethered! + All your passengers, my Captain, say your pluck and skill were + grand. + Much to men like you is owing, when wild storms around are blowing, + As they seem to have been doing since the opening of the year: + Howling, hailing, sleeting, snowing; but for captains calm and + knowing, + Passage of our angry Channel were indeed a task of fear. + Well, you brought them safely through it, when not every man could do + it, + And your passengers, my Captain, are inspired with gratitude. + Therefore, _Mr. Punch_ thus thanks you, and right readily enranks you, + As a hero on the record of our briny island brood. + Verily the choice of "_Paris_" in this case proved right; and rare is + Fitness between name and nature such as that _you_ illustrate. + Captain SHARP! A proper _nomen_, and it proved a prosperous omen + To your passengers, whom _Punch_ must on their luck congratulate. + + * * * * * + +ON BOARD THE CHANNEL STEAMER "PARIS" (_Night of Saturday, January 25, +1890_).--"SHARP'S the word!" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: NOTHING LIKE A CHANGE! + +_Dr. Cockshure._ "MY GOOD SIR, WHAT _YOU_ WANT IS THOROUGH ALTERATION OF +CLIMATE. THE ONLY THING TO CURE _YOU_ IS A LONG SEA VOYAGE!" + +_Patient._ "THAT'S RATHER INCONVENIENT. YOU SEE I'M ONLY JUST HOME FROM +A SEA VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD!"] + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +The title of the second chapter of _The Days of the Dandies_, in +_Blackwood_, is calculated to excite curiosity,--it is, "Some Great +Beauties, and some Social Celebrities." After reading the article, I +think it would have been styled more correctly, "A Few Great Beauties." +However, it is discursively amusing and interesting. There is much truth +in the paper on Modern Mannish Maidens. I hold that no number of a +Magazine is perfect without a tale of mystery and wonder, or a +ghost-story of some sort. I hope I have not overlooked one of these in +any Magazine for this month that I have seen. Last month there was a +good one in _Macmillan_, and another in _Belgravia_. I forget their +titles, unfortunately, and have mislaid the Magazines. But +_After-thoughts_, in this month's _Macmillan_, is well worth perusal. + +[Illustration: ] + +My faithful "Co." has been looking through the works of reference. He +complains that _Dod's Peerage, Baronetage, and Knighthood for 1890_ is +carelessly edited. He notes, as a sample, that Sir HENRY LELAND +HARRISON, who is said to have been born in 1857, is declared to have +entered the Indian Civil Service in 1860, when he was only three years +old--a manifest absurdity. As _Mr. Punch_ himself pointed out this +_betise_ in _Dod's &c., &c., for 1889_, it should have been corrected in +the new edition. "If this sort of thing continues," says the faithful +"Co.," "_Dod_ will be known as _Dodder_, or even _Dodderer_!" Sir +BERNARD BURKE'S _Genealogical and Heraldic Dictionary of the Peerage and +Baronetage_ is, in every sense, a noble volume, and seems to have been +compiled with the greatest care and accuracy. KELLY'S _Post Office +Directory_, of course, is a necessity to every man of letters. +_Whitaker's Almanack for 1890_ seems larger than usual, and better than +ever. WEBSTER'S _Royal Red Book_, and GARDINER'S _Royal Blue Book_, it +goes without saying, are both written by men of address. _The Century +Atlas and Gazetteer_ is a book amongst a hundred. Finally, the _Era +Almanack for 1890_, conducted by EDWARD LEDGER, is, as usual, full of +information concerning things theatrical--some of it gay, some of it +sad. "Replies to Questions by Actors and Actresses" is the liveliest +contribution in the little volume. The Obituary contains the name of +"EDWARD LITT LEMAN BLANCHARD," dramatist, novellist, and journalist, who +died on the 4th of September, 1889. It is hard to realise the _Era +Almanack_ without the excellent contributions of poor "E. L. B.!" + +"Co." furnishes some other notes in a livelier strain:-- + +_Matthew Prior._ (KEGAN PAUL.) If you are asked to go out in this +abominable weather, shelter yourself under the wing of Mr. AUSTIN +DOBSON, and plead a prior engagement. (Ha! Ha!) You will find the +engagement both prior and profitable. Mr. DOBSON'S introductory essay is +not only exhaustive, but in the highest degree interesting, and his +selection from the poems has been made with great taste and rare +discretion. + +_In the Garden of Dreams._ The lack of poets of the softer sex has been +recently a subject of remark. Lady-novelists we have in super-abundance, +of lady-dramatists we have more than enough, of lady-journalists we have +legions--but lady-poets we have but few. Possibly, they flourish more on +the other side of the Atlantic. At any rate we have a good example of +the American Muse in the latest volume by Mrs. LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON. +This little book is full of grace, its versification is melodious, and +has the genuine poetic ring about it, which is as rare as it is +acceptable. It can scarcely fail to find favour with English readers. + + BARON DE BOOK-WORMS & CO. + + * * * * * + +EPIDEMIOLOGICAL. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--The Camel is reported to be greatly instrumental in the +spread of cholera. This is evidently the Bacterian Camel, whose +humps--or is it hump?--have long been such a terror to those who really +don't care a bit how many humps an animal has. + +Yours faithfully, HUMPHRY CAMPBELL. + + * * * * * + +To THOSE WHO GET THEIR LIVING BY DYEING.--"Sweet Auburn!" exclaimed a +ruddy, aureate-haired lady of uncertain age,--anything, in fact, after +fifty,--"'Sweet Auburn!'" she repeated, musingly, "What does 'Sweet +Auburn' come from?" "Well," replied her husband, regarding her +_coiffure_ with an air of uncertainty, "I'm not quite sure, but I think +'Sweet Auburn' should be GRAY." + + * * * * * + +MR. PUNCH'S MORAL MUSIC-HALL DRAMAS. + +No. V.--BRUNETTE AND BLANCHIDINE. + +_A Melodramatic Didactic Vaudeville, suggested by "The Wooden Doll and +the Wax Doll." By the Misses Jane and Ann Taylor._ + +[Illustration:] + +DRAMATIS PERSONAE. + +_Blanchidine_,} By the celebrated SISTERS STILTON, the Champion +_Brunette_. } Duettists and Clog-dancers. + + +_Fanny Furbelow._ By MISS SYLVIA SEALSKIN (_by kind permission of + the Gaiety Management_). + +_Frank Manly._ By MR. HENRY NEVILLE. + +SCENE--_A Sunny Glade in Kensington Gardens, between the Serpentine +and Round Pond_. + +_Enter_ BLANCHIDINE _and_ BRUNETTE, _with their arms thrown + affectionately around one another_. BLANCHIDINE _is carrying a large + and expressionless wooden doll_. + + _Duet and Step-dance._ + + _Bl._ Oh, I do adore BRUNETTE! (_Dances._) Tippity-tappity, + tappity-tippity, tippity-tappity, tip-tap! + + _Br_. BLANCHIDINE'S the sweetest pet! (_Dances._) Tippity-tappity, &c. + +_Together._ When the sun is high, + We come out to ply, + Nobody is nigh, + All is mirth and j'y! + + With a pairosol, + We'll protect our doll, + Make a mossy bed + For her wooden head! + + [_Combination step-dance, during which both watch their feet with an + air of detached and slightly amused interest, as if they belonged to + some other persons._ + + Clickity-clack, clickity-clack, clickity, clickity, clickity-clack; + clackity-clickity, clickity-clackity, clackity-clickity-_clack_! + + [_Repeat ad. lib._ + + _Bl._ (_apologetically to Audience_). Her taste in dress is rather + plain! (_Dances._) Tippity-tappity, &c. + + _Br._ (_in pitying aside_). It _is_ a pity she's so vain! + (_Dances._) Tippity-tappity, &c. + + _Bl._ 'Tis a shime to smoile, + But she's shocking stoyle, + It is quite a troyal, + Still--she mikes a foil! + + _Br._ Often I've a job + To suppress a sob, + She is such a snob, + When she meets a nob! [_Step-dance as before._ + + [_N.B.--In consideration of the well-known difficulty that most + popular variety-artists experience in the metrical delivery of + decasyllabic couplets, the lines which follow have been written as + they will most probably be spoken._ + + _Bl._ (_looking off with alarm_). Why, here comes FANNY FURBELOW, a + new frock from Paris in! She'll find me with BRUNETTE--it's too + embarrassing! + + [_Aside._ + _To Brunette._ BRUNETTE, my love, I know _such_ a pretty game we'll + play at-- + Poor TIMBURINA'S ill, and the seaside she ought to stay at. + (The Serpentine's the seaside, let's pretend,) + And _you_ shall take her there--(_hypocritically_)--you're such a + friend! + + _Br._ (_with simplicity_). Oh, yes, that _will_ be splendid, + BLANCHIDINE, + And then we can go and have a dip in a bathing-machine! + + [BLAN. _resigns the wooden doll to_ BRUN., _who skips off + with it_, L., _as_ FANNY FURBELOW _enters_, R., _carrying a + magnificent wax doll_. + + _Fanny_ (_languidly_). Ah, howdy do--_isn't_ this heat too frightful? + And so you're quite alone? + + _Bl._ (_nervously_). Oh, _quite_--oh yes, I always am alone, when + there's nobody with me. + + [_This is a little specimen of the Lady's humorous "gag," at + which she is justly considered a proficient._ + + _Fanny_ (_drawling_). Delightful! + When I was wondering, only a little while ago, + If I should meet a creature that I know; + Allow me--my new doll, the LADY MINNIE! + + _[Introducing doll._ + + _Bl._ (_rapturously_). Oh, what a perfect love! + + _Fanny_. She ought to be--for a guinea! + Here, you may nurse her for a little while. + Be careful, for her frock's the latest style. + + [_Gives_ BLAN. _the wax doll_. + + She's the best wax, and has three changes of clothing-- + For those cheap wooden dolls I've quite a loathing. + + _Bl._ (_hastily_). Oh, so have _I_--they're not to be endured! + + _Re-enter_ BRUNETTE _with the wooden doll, which she tries to + press upon_ BLANCHIDINE, _much to the latter's confusion_. + + _Br._ I've brought poor TIMBURINA back, completely cured! + Why, aren't you pleased? Your face is looking so cloudy! + + _F._ (_haughtily_). Is she a friend of _yours_--this little dowdy? + + [_Slow music._ + + _Bl._ (_after an internal struggle_). Oh, no, what an idea! Why, I + don't even know her by name! Some vulgar child ... + + [_Lets the wax doll fall unregarded on the gravel._ + + _Br._ (_indignantly_). Oh, what a horrid shame! + I see _now_ why you sent us to the Serpentine! + + _Bl._ (_heartlessly_). There's no occasion to flare up like turpentine. + + _Br._ (_ungrammatically_). I'm _not_! Disown your doll, and thrust me, + too, aside, + The one thing left for both of us is--suicide! + Yes, TIMBURINA, us no more she cherishes-- + _(Bitterly.)_ Well, the Round Pond a handy place to perish is! + + [_Rushes off stage with wooden doll._ + + _Bl._ (_making a feeble attempt to follow_). Come back, BRUNETTE; don't + leave me thus, in charity! + + _F._ (_with contempt_). Well, I'll be off--since you seem to prefer + vulgarity. + + _Bl._ No, stay--but--ah, she said--what if she _meant_ it? + + _F._ Not she! And, if she did, _we_ can't prevent it. + + _Bl._ (_relieved_). That's true--we'll play, and think no more about + her. + + _F._ (_sarcastically_). We may _just_ manage to get on without her! + So come--(_perceives doll lying face upwards on path_)--you odious + girl, what have you done? + Left LADY MINNIE lying in the blazing sun! + 'Twas done on purpose--oh, you _thing_ perfidious! [_Stamps._ + You _knew_ she'd melt, and get completely hideous! + Don't answer _me_, Miss--I wish we'd never met. + You're only fit for persons like BRUNETTE! + + [_Picks up doll, and exit in passion._ + + _Grand Sensation Descriptive Soliloquy, by_ BLANCHIDINE, _to + Melodramatic Music._ + + _Bl._ Gone! Ah, I am rightly punished! What would I not give now to + have homely little BRUNETTE, and dear old wooden-headed TIMBURINA back + again! _She_ wouldn't melt in the sun.... Where are they now? Great + Heavens! that threat--that rash resolve ... I remember all! 'Twas in + the direction of the Pond they vanished. (_Peeping anxiously between + trees._) Are they still in sight?... Yes, I see them! BRUNETTE has + reached the water's edge.... What is she purposing! Now she kneels on + the rough gravel; she is making TIMBURINA kneel too! How calm and + resolute they both appear! (_Shuddering._) I dare not look + further--but, ah, I must--_I must!_... Horror! I saw her boots flash + for an instant in the bright sunlight; and now the ripples have + closed, smiling over her little black stockings!... Help!--save her, + somebody!--help!... Joy! a gentleman has appeared on the scene--how + handsome, how brave he looks! He has taken in the situation at a + glance! With quiet composure he removes his coat--oh, _don't_ trouble + about folding it up!--and why, _why_ remove your gloves, when there is + not a moment to be lost? Now, with many injunctions, he entrusts his + watch to a bystander, who retires, overcome by emotion. And now--oh, + gallant, heroic soul!--now he is sending his toy terrier into the + seething water! (_Straining eagerly forward._) Ah, the dog paddles + bravely out--he has reached the spot ... oh, he has passed it!--he is + trying to catch a duck! Dog, dog, _is_ this a time for pursuing ducks? + At last he understands--he dives ... he brings up--agony! a small tin + cup! Again ... _this_ time, surely--what, only an old pot-hat!... Oh, + this dog is a fool! And still the Round Pond holds its dread secret! + Once more ... yes--no, yes, it _is_ TIMBURINA! Thank Heaven, she yet + breathes! But BRUNETTE? Can she have stuck in the mud at the bottom? + Ha, she, too, is rescued--saved--ha-ha-ha!--saved, saved, saved! + + [_Swoons hysterically, amid deafening applause._ + + _Enter_ FRANK MANLY, _supporting_ BRUNETTE, _who carries_ TIMBURINA. + + _Bl._ (_wildly_). What, do I see you safe, beloved BRUNETTE? + + _Br._ Yes, thanks to his courage, I'm not even _wet_! + + _Frank_ (_modestly_). Nay, spare your compliments. To rescue Beauty, + When in distress, is every hero's duty! + + _Bl._ BRUNETTE, forgive--I'm cured of all my folly! + + _Br._ (_heartily_). Of course I will, my dear, and so will dolly! + + [_Grand Trio and Step-dance, with "tippity-tappity," and + "clickity-clack" refrain as finale._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THE NEW GERMAN RIFLE." + +(A FANCY SKETCH OF ITS STARTLING APPEARANCE.) + +"The Regulations for the employment of the new German Infantry Rifle +have just been published. With regard to the capabilities of the new +rifle, the Regulations assert, that in this arm the German Infantry +possesses a weapon standing fully abreast of the time with a range such +as was heretofore held to be impossible of attainment."--_Standard, Jan. +25._] + + * * * * * + +ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. + +COMMEMORATION BIRTHDAY CONCERT.--The programme you are preparing, after +the fashion set the other evening in St. James's Hall, at an +entertainment organised in honour of the birthday of the poet BURNS, for +the purpose of paying a similar tribute to the memory of his great +fellow-countryman, Sir WALTER SCOTT, certainly promises well. As you +very truly point out that, as at the Concert which you are taking as +your model, though the name of BURNS was tacked on to nearly every item +in the programme, as if he had been responsible for the words, music and +all, it did not seem limited to the Poet's work alone, you might +certainly allow yourself the latitude you propose in arranging your own +scheme. The fact that, at the Burns Celebration, M. NACHEZ played his +own Hungarian dances, the connection between which and the Poet's +birthday is not, at first sight, entirely obvious, and that another +gentleman, with equal appropriateness, favoured the company with "_The +Death of Nelson_," on the trombone, seems certainly to give you a +warrant for the introduction you contemplate making, in commemoration of +Sir WALTER, of the Chinese Chopstick Mazurka, and the Woora-woora +Cannibal Islanders side-knife and sledge-hammer war-dance. It may of +course be possible, in a remote way, to introduce them, as you suggest, +into _Old Mortality_, but we should think you would be nearer the mark +with that other item of your programme, that associates _Jem Baggs_ with +_The Lay of the Last Minstrel_. Your idea of accepting and utilising the +offer of the GIRALFI family to introduce their Drawing-room +Entertainment into your programme seems excellent, and has certainly as +much in common with the Birthday of Sir WALTER SCOTT as the "_Death of +Nelson_," on the trombone, has with that of the distinguished Novelist's +great brother Poet. There is no reason, as you further point out, why +you should not organise a whole Series of Commemorative Birthday +Entertainments, as you think of doing, on the same plan, and with +BEETHOVEN, MACAULAY, Dr. JOHNSON, and WARREN HASTINGS, the celebrities +you mention, to begin upon, you ought to have no difficulty in working +in the solo on the big drum, the performance of the Learned Hyaena, the +Japanese Twenty-feet Bayonet-jump, and the other equally appropriate +attractions with which you are already in communication. Anyhow, begin +with Sir WALTER SCOTT, following the St. James's Hall lead, and let us +hear how you get on. + + * * * + +STRIKING WEDDING PRESENTS.--As you seem to think that a list of the +presents made to your young friends who are about to be married will in +all probability be published in some of the Society papers, "with the +names of the donors," we think, on the whole, we would advise you _not_ +to give them, as you seem rather inclined to do, those three hundred +weight of cheap sardines of which you became possessed through a seizure +of your agents for arrears of rent. You might certainly present them +with the disabled omnibus horse that came into your hands on the same +occasion. Horses are sometimes given as wedding presents. There were +four down in a list of gifts at a fashionable marriage only last week. +But, of course, it would not suit your purpose to appear as the donor of +a "damaged" creature. We think, perhaps, it would be wiser to accept the +five pounds offered you through the veterinary surgeon you mention, and +lay out the money, as you suggest, in sixteen hundred Japanese fans. If +it falls through, and you find the horse still on your hands, there is +no need to mention its association with the omnibus. "Mr. JOHN +JOHNSON--a riding horse," doesn't read badly. We almost think this is +better than the fans. Think it over. + + * * * * * + +THE LUXURY OF PANTOMIME. + +One day last week, after a struggle for life, Her Majesty's Theatre was +shut up, five hundred persons, so it was stated, lost employment, and +the _Cinderella_ family, proud sisters and all, nay, even the gallant +Prince himself, were turned adrift. Smiling, at the helm of the Drury +Lane Ship, stands AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS, who sees, not unmoved, the wreck +of "Her Majesty's Opposition," and murmurs to himself as _Jack and the +Beanstalk_ continues its successful course, "This is, indeed, the +survival of the fittest," and, charitably, DRURIOLANUS sends out a +life-boat entitled "Benefit Performance" to the rescue of the +shipwrecked crew. _Ave Caesar_! + +From this disaster there results a moral, "which, when found," it would +be as well to "make a note of." It is this: as evidently London will +not, or cannot, support two Pantomimes, several Circuses, and a Show +like BARNUM'S, all through one winter, why try the experiment? +especially when the _luxe_ of Pantomime, fostered by DRURIOLANUS, is so +enormous, that any competitor must be forced into ruinous and even +reckless extravagance, in order to enter into anything like rivalry with +The Imperator who "holds the field" for Pantomime, just as he holds "The +Garden" for Opera, against all comers. + +These rival establishments only do harm to one another, spoil the public +by indulging their taste for magnificent spectacle, increasing in +gorgeousness every year, until true Pantomime will be overlaid with +jewelled armour, crushed under velvet and gold, and be lying helpless +under the weight of its own gorgeosity. We should question whether the +Olympian BARNUM has done much good for himself, seeing how gigantic the +expenses must be; and certainly he can't have done good to the theatres. +As to Shows, "The more the merrier" does not hold good. "The fewer the +better" is nearer the mark in every sense, and perhaps the experience of +this season may suggest even to DRURIOLANUS to give the public still +more fun for their money (and there is plenty of genuine fun in _Jack +and the Beanstalk_), with less show, in less time, and at consequently +less expense to himself, and with, therefore, bigger profits. We shall +see. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: + + "Mr. GLADSTONE desires that ALL LETTERS, &c., should be addressed to + him at 10, St. James's Square, London."--_Standard, Jan. 25._ + +Why should "all letters" be addressed to Mr. GLADSTONE? Isn't anybody +else to have any? How about Valentine's Day? Will "_all letters_" be +addressed to him then? If so--then the above Illustration conveys only a +feeble idea of the result.] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: FELINE AMENITIES. + +_Fair Hostess_ (_to Mrs. Masham, who is looking her very best_). +"HOWDYDO, DEAR? I HOPE YOU'RE NOT SO TIRED AS YOU _LOOK_!"] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE FINISHING TOUCH; OR, PREPARING FOR MR. SPEAKER'S +PARTY. + +"THANK GOODNESS, HE'S READY AT LAST!"] + + * * * * * + +THE FINISHING TOUCH; + +OR, PREPARING FOR MR. SPEAKER'S PARTY. + +_Anxious Old (Legal) Nurses loquitur_:-- + + Ah! he's ready now, thanks be! + But a plaguier child than he + I am sure we Nusses three + Never dressed. + But at last we have got through; + Well-curled hair, and sash of blue! + Yes, we rather think he'll do, + Heaven be blessed! + + Ah! the awful time it took! + Never mind; by hook or crook + We have togged him trimly. Look! + There he stands! + His long wailings nearly hushed, + Buttoned, pinned, oiled, combed and brushed, + And his tight glove-fingers crushed + On his hands. + + Does us credit, don't you think? + How the chit would writhe and shrink, + Get his garments in a kink + Every way! + Awful handful, hot and heady, + Shuffling round, ne'er standing steady, + Feared we'd never get him ready + For the day. + + Mr. SPEAKER'S Party,--yes! + Hope he'll be a great success; + His clean face and natty dress + _Ought_ to please. + But there'll be no end of eyes + On his buttons, hooks, and ties; + Prompt to chaff and criticise, + Tear and tease. + + There'll be many an Irish boy + Who will find it his chief joy + To upset and to annoy + The young Turk; + And, with no particular call, + Try to make him squeal and squall, + Disarrange him, after all + Our hard work. + + Not to mention other lads, + Regular rowdy little Rads, + Full of ill-conditioned fads, + And mean spite; + Who will pinch and pull the hair + Of our charge who's standing there, + After all our patient care + Right and tight. + + For we know they don't like _us_, + And they're sure to scold and cuss + The tired three, and raise a fuss + And a pother + About Hopeful here. Heigho! + But he's ready, dears, to go. + Ah! they little little know + All our bother! + + On our hands heaven knows how long + We have had him. 'Twould be wrong + To indulge in language strong; + But how hearty + Is our joy that we have done! + There now, REPPY, off you run! + Only hope you'll have good fun + At the Party! + + * * * * * + +TO AN OLD FRIEND WITH A NEW WIG. + +Delighted to hear that our friend CHARLES HALL, A.D.C., Trin. Coll. +Cam., and Q.C., is likely to be made a Judge. Where will he sit? +Admiralty, Probate, and Divorce Court, where wreckage cases of ships and +married lives are heard? Health to the Judge that shall be, with a song +and chorus, if you please, Gentlemen, to the ancient air of "_Samuel +Hall_," revived for this occasion only:-- + + His name it is CHARLES HALL, + A.D.C. and Q.C., + His name it is CHARLES HALL. + In cases great and small + He's shone out since his call, + All agree. + + In Court of Admiral_tee_ + Did he drudge, (_bis_) + In Court of Admiraltee, + 'Bout lights and wrecks,--will he + Henceforth be less at sea + As a Judge? + +_Chorus._ + +(_To quite another tune, i.e., the refrain of_ GEORGE GROSSMITH'S _song, +"How I became an Actor."_) + + And each of his friends makes this remark, + (Retort he may with "Fudge!") + "Now wasn't I the first to say, you're sure + Some day to be a Judge!" + +It will be a touching spectacle, as, indeed, it always is to the +reflective mind, to see the new Judge sitting among the wrecks, like +"Marius among the Ruins." Fine subject for Sir FREDERICK, P.R.A., in the +next Academy Exhibition. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A DISTINCTION WITHOUT A DIFFERENCE (IN RESULT). + +"HULLO, JIM, WHATEVER MADE YOU COME OFF?"--"WHY, THE BRUTE +BUCKED!"--"BUCKED! NONSENSE, MAN, SHE ONLY COUGHED!"] + + * * * * * + +KICKED! + +(_By the Foot of Clara Groomley._) + +IN FOUR CHAPTERS.--III. + +Nothing done! The whole Detective force of London, having nothing better +to do, were placed at my disposal, and, after three weeks' search, they +found a girl called SMITH; but it was the wrong one. My darling is +_blonde_, and this was a dark, almost a black, SMITH. I came back to +Ryde in a passion and a third-class carriage. I find from Mademoiselle +that Miss SMITH has not yet returned. + +[Illustration: ] + +JAMES seemed pleased to see me, but he noticed that in my anxiety and +preoccupation I had forgotten to have my hat ironed. The hotel is quite +full, and I am to sleep in the Haunted Room to-night. + + * * * + +I am not a hysterical man, and this is not a neurotic story. It is, as a +matter of fact, the same old rot to which the shilling shockers have +made us accustomed. I cannot account in any way for my experiences last +night in the Haunted Room, but they certainly were not due to +nervousness. I had not been asleep long before I had a most curious and +vivid dream. I felt that I was not in the hotel, and that at the same +time I was not out of it. I had a curious sense of being everywhere in +general, and nowhere in particular. + +I saw before me a gorgeously furnished room. On the tiger-skin rug +before the fire was a basket with a crewel-worked chair-back spread over +it. _What was in the basket?_ Again and again I asked myself that +question. I felt like a long-division sum, and a cold shiver went down +my quotient. + +In one corner of the room stood a man of about thirty, with a handsome, +wicked face. One hand rested on the drawer of a writing-table. Slowly he +drew from it a folded paper, and read, in a harsh, raucous voice:-- + +"'To cleaning and repairing one----' No, that's not it." + +He selected another paper. Ah, it was the right one this time! + +"'Memorandum of Aunt JANE'S Will.' 'All property to go to ALICE SMITH, +unless Aunt JANE'S poodle, _Tommy Atkins_, dies before ALICE SMITH comes +of age. In which case, it all goes to me.' I remember making that note +when the will was read. And now"--he glanced at the covered +basket--"_Tommy_'s kicked the bucket. Well, he stood in my way. Who's to +know? But there must be no _post-mortem_, no 'vet' fetched in. Happy +thought--I'll have the brute stuffed." He knelt down by the side of the +basket, and slowly drew back the covering. "Ah!" he said--"it's cruel +work." + +Did he refer to the chair-back? or did he refer to the way in which, for +the sake of gain, an honest dog had been MURDERED? For there before my +eyes lay the dead poodle, _Tommy Atkins_! + +"ALICE loses all her money," he continued, "but that doesn't matter. She +tells me that she's picked up no end of a swell down at Ryde, and he may +marry her. The question is--will he?" Once more I felt like a division +sum. I yearned to call out loudly, and answer with a decided negative; +but no words came. My strength was gone. I was utterly worked out, and +there was no remainder. + +When I came to myself, I found JAMES, the waiter, standing by my bedside +with a gentleman whom I did not know. JAMES introduced him to me as a +Mr. ALKALOID, a photographer who was stopping in the hotel. Mr. ALKALOID +had been woken up by a wild shriek for a decided negative, and had +rushed down to see if he could do a little business. "Take you by the +electric light," he said; "just as you are,"--I was in my night-dress +and the old, old hat, the rim of which had been slightly +sprained,--"perfectly painless process, and money returned if not +satisfactory." I thanked him warmly, and apologised for having disturbed +him. + +I went to London on the following day. I felt it my positive duty to +explain that I should always regard ALICE SMITH as a sister, but nothing +more. + +I had quite forgotten that I did not know the house where ALICE SMITH +lived, and the poodle dog lay dead. + +(_Here ends the Narrative of_ CYRIL MUSH.) + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE SUMMONS TO DUTY. + +(_Design for a Parliamentary Cartoon, illustrating the Life of a Country +Member._)] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "EXCLUSIVE DEALING." + +_Irish Landlord_ (_boycotted_). "PAT, MY MAN, I'M IN NO END OF A HURRY. +PUT THE PONY TO, AND DRIVE ME TO THE STATION, AND I'LL GIVE YE HALF A +SOVEREIGN!" + +_Pat_ (_Nationalist, but needy_). "OCH SHURE, IT'S MORE THAN ME LOIFE IS +WORTH TO BE SEEN DROIVING _YOU_, YER HONOUR. BUT"--(_slily_)--"IF YER +HONOUR WOULD JIST DROIVE _ME_, MAYBE IT'S MESELF THAT MOIGHT VENTURE +IT!"] + + * * * * * + +"SWEET-MARJORIE!" + +[Illustration: Change for a Tenor. Wilfred of Huntington is succeeded by +that Man of Mark--Tapley.] + +Take it all in all, _Marjorie_ at the Prince of Wales' is a very +satisfactory production. The subject is English, the music is English, +and the "book" is English too. So when we applaud the new Opera, we have +the satisfaction of knowing that our cheers are given in the cause of +native talent triumphant. This is appropriate to the "time" of the play +(the commencement of the thirteenth century), which is the very epoch +when the Saxons were beginning to hold their own in the teeth of their +Norman conquerors. But leaving patriotism out of the question (a matter +which, it is to be feared, is not likely to influence Stalls, Pit, and +Gallery materially for a very lengthened period), the Opera _qua_ Opera +is a very good one. The company is strong--so strong, that it hears the +loss of an accomplished songstress like Miss HUNTINGTON without severely +suffering. It is true that an excellent substitute for the lady has been +found in that tenor with the cheerful name, Mr. MARK TAPLEY, whose notes +are certainly worth their weight in gold; but leaving the +representatives of _Wilfred_ "outside the competition," the remainder of +the _Dramatis Personae_ are excellent. They work well together, and +consequently the _ensemble_ is in the highest degree pleasing. + +Assistance of rather a graver character than usually associated with +comic opera is naturally afforded by Mr. HAYDYN COFFIN. Miss PHYLLIS +BROUGHTON is introduced not only to sing but to dance, and performs the +latter accomplishment with a grace not to be surpassed, and only to be +equalled by Miss KATE VAUGHAN. Mr. ASHLEY, now happily returned to the +melodious paths from which he strayed to play in pieces of the calibre +of _Pink Dominoes_, seems quite at home in the character of _Sir +Simon_--not "the Cellarer," but rather, "the sold one." Mr. MONKHOUSE, +whose name and personality go to prove that a cowl does not preclude its +occasional occupation by a wag, is most amusing as _Gosric_. Mr. ALBERT +JAMES is a lively jester, whose quips and cranks might have been of +considerable value to Mr. JOSEPH MILLER when that literary droll was +engaged in compiling his comic classic. Miss D'ARVILLE and Madame AMADI +both work with a will, and find a way to public favour. The dresses are +in excellent taste, and the scenery capital. + +That the _mise en scene_ is perfect, goes without saying, as this Opera +has been produced by that past master of stage-direction, the one and +only AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS. The dialogue is sufficiently pointed--not too +pointed, but pointed enough. It does not require a knowledge of the +niceties of the law, the regulations of the British army, or a keen +appreciation of the subtlest subtleties of logic to fully understand it. +It is amusing, and provocative of innocent laughter, which, after all, +seems to be a sufficient recommendation for words spoken within the +walls of a play-house. The music is full of melody--"quite killing," as +a young lady wittily observed, on noticing that the name of the Composer +was SLAUGHTER. So _Marjorie_ may be fairly said not only to have +deserved success, but (it is satisfactory to be able to add) also to +have attained it. + + ONE WHO HAS PRACTISED AT THE MUSICAL BAR. + + * * * * * + +STATESMEN AT HOME. + +DCXLIII. THE RIGHT HON. W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P., AT HAWARDEN. + +[Illustration: ] + +As you approach the historic home of the great English Statesman who is +to be your host to-day, you become conscious of the fact that there are +two Hawarden Castles. Moreover, as young HERBERT pleasantly remarks a +little later in the day, "You must draw a Hawarden-fast line between the +two." One, standing on a hill dominating a far-reaching tract of level +country, was already so old in the time of EDWARD THE FIRST that it was +found necessary to rebuild it. Looking through your Domesday Book (which +you always carry with you on these excursions), you find the mansion +referred to under the style of Haordine. This, antiquarians assume, is +the Saxonised form of the earlier British _Y Garthddin_, which, being +translated, means "The hill-fort on the projecting ridge." + +When WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR came over, bringing with him a following the +numerical proportions of which increase as the years roll by, he found +the Fort on the Hill held by EDWARD of Mercia, and deemed it convenient +to leave it in his possession. The Castle played its part in English +history down to the time, now 130 years gone by, when it came into the +hands of Sir JOHN GLYNN, and thence through long descent became an +inheritance of the gracious lady who, with cambric cap-strings streaming +in the free air of the Marches, joins your host in welcoming you. + +It is, however, not on the steps of the old castle of which Prince +LLEWELLYN was once lord that you are thus received. By the side of the +old ruin has grown up another Hawarden Castle, a roomy mansion, +statelily stuccoed, with sham turrets run up, buttresses, embrasures, +portholes, and portcullises, putting to shame the rugged, looped and +windowless ruin that still stands on the projecting ridge. This dates +only from the beginning of the century, and, looking upon it, your face +glows with honest pride, as you think how much better the generation +near your own made for itself dwelling-houses compared with the earlier +English. + +Whilst you stand musing on these things you are conscious of a whishing +sound, and a breath of swiftly moving cool air wantonly strikes your +cheek. You look up and behold! there is your host, axe in hand, +playfully performing a number of passes over your unconscious head. His +dress is designed admirably to suit the exercise. Coat and waistcoat are +doffed; the immortal collars are turned down, displaying the columnar +throat and the brawny chest; the snow-white shirt-sleeves are turned up +to the elbow, disclosing biceps that SAMSON would envy and SANDOW covet. +His braces are looped on either side of his supple hips, and his right +hand grasps the axe which, a moment ago had been performing over your +head a series of evolutions which, remarkable for the strength and +agility displayed, were, perhaps, scarcely desirable for daily +repetition. + +"Don't be frightened, TOBY M.P.," said the full rich voice so familiar +in the House of Commons; "it's our wild woodsman's way of welcoming the +coming guest. What do you think of my costume? Seen it before? Ah! +_yes_, the photographs. _Carte de visite style_, _10s. 6d._ a dozen; +Cabinet size, a guinea. I have been photographed several times as you +will observe." + +And, indeed, as your host leads you along the stately passages, through +the storied rooms, you find his photograph everywhere. The tables are +covered with them, showing your host in all attitudes and costumes. +"Yes," he says, with a sigh, "I think I have marched up to the camera's +mouth as often as most men of my years." + +Ascending the rustic staircase which leads from the garden, WILLIAM +EWART GLADSTONE takes you past the library into the drawing-room, in the +upper parts of the leaded windows of which are inserted panels of rare +old glass, cunningly obtained by melting superfluous Welsh ale bottles. +He leads you to a table, as round as that at which a famous Conference +was held, and points to a little ivory painting. It shows a chubby +little boy some two years of age, with rather large head and broad +shoulders, sitting at the knee of a young nymph approaching her fifth +year. On her knee is a book, and the chubby boy, with dark hair falling +low over his forehead, his great brown eyes staring frankly at you, +points with his finger to a passage. When you learn that this is a +portrait of your host and his sister taken in the year 1811, you +naturally come to the conclusion that the young lady has, for party +purposes, been misquoting some passages in her brother's speech, and +that he, having produced an authorised record of his address, is +triumphantly pointing to the text in controversion of her statement. + +Your host, chopping grimly at the furniture as he passes along--here +dexterously severing the leg of a Chippendale chair, and there hacking a +piece off a Louis Quatorze couch--leads the way to an annexe he has just +built for the reception of his treasured books. From the outside this +excrescence on the Castle has but a poverty-stricken look. It is, to +tell the truth, made of corrugated iron. But that is a cloak that +cunningly covers an interior of rare beauty and rich design. Arras of +cloth of gold hangs loosely on the walls, whilst here and there, on the +far-reaching floor, gleams the low light of a faded Turkey carpet. Open +tables, covered with broad cloths of crimson velvet, embroidered and +fringed with gold, carry innumerable Blue Books. On marble tables, +supported on carved and gilded frames, stand priceless vases, filled +with rare flowers. In crystal flagons you detect the sheen of amber +light (which may be sherry wine), whilst the ear is lulled with the +sound of fountains dispensing perfumes as of Araby. In an alcove, +chastely draped with violent violet velvet, the grey apes swing, and the +peacocks preen, on fretted pillar and jewelled screen. Horologes, to +chime the hours, and even the quarters, uprise from tables of +ebony-and-mother-of-pearl. Cabinets from Ind and Venice, of filligree +gold and silver, enclose complete sets of _Hansard's Parliamentary +Debates_; whilst lamps of silver, suspended from pendant pinnacles in +the fretted ceiling, shed a soft light over the varied mass of colour. + +Casting himself down lightly by a cabinet worked with Dutch beads +interspersed with seed-pearls, and toying with the gnarled handle of the +axe, the Right Hon. WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE tells you the story of his +life. At the outset you are a little puzzled to gather where exactly he +was born. At first you think it was in Scotland. Anon some town in +England claims the honour. Then Wales is incidentally mentioned, and +next the tearful voice of Erin claims her son. But, as the story goes +forward with long majestic stride, these difficulties fade in the +glamour of the Old Man's eloquence, and when you awake and find your +host has not yet got beyond the second course--the fish, as it were, of +the intellectual banquet--you say you will call again. + +Mention of the three courses naturally suggests dinner, and as you +evidently enjoy the monopoly of the mental association, you take your +leave, perhaps regretting that among his wild woodsman accessories your +host does not seem to include the midday chop. + + * * * * * + +GOLD-TIPPED cigarettes seem just now to be "the swagger thing." "Ah!" +Master TOMMY sighed, as he set off for school with only five shillings +in his pocket, in consequence of all his dearest--and nearest--relatives +being laid up with the prevailing epidemic, "Ah, how I should like to be +one of those cigarettes, and then I should be tipped with gold." + + * * * * * + + NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., + Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no + case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and + Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. 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