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diff --git a/33036-h/33036-h.htm b/33036-h/33036-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e26c6e1 --- /dev/null +++ b/33036-h/33036-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1946 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 93. August 20, 1887. by Various</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + .blockquot {margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 15%; 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 */ + table.essence {width: 840px; text-align: center; background-image: + url("images/083.png"); background-repeat: no-repeat;} + + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0;} + + .poem + {margin-left:25%; 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:15%; 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;} + + .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;} + + .img {margin: 0; padding-right: 0;} + .div {margin: 0; padding: 0;} + + p.author {text-align: right;} + + .regards {text-align: right; + margin-right: 4em;} + + pre {font-size: 75%; } + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 93, +August 20, 1887., by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 93, August 20, 1887. + +Author: Various + +Release Date: June 30, 2010 [EBook #33036] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, AUGUST 20, 1887 *** + + + + +Produced by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> + +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + +<h2>VOLUME 93.</h2> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>AUGUST 20, 1887.</h2> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> + +<h2>THE PLEASANT TRAVELLER'S CONVERSATION-BOOK.</h2> + +<center>(<i>To be translated into French, German, and Italian, for the benefit of +Foreigners.</i>)<br /><br /> + +<span class="smcap">In the Train.</span></center> + +<p><span class="smcap">Continental</span> Railways are disgracefully mismanaged.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/073a.png"> +<img src="images/073a.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon--Mr. Punch, the traveller." /></a> +</div> + +<p>This train does not travel at anything like the rate of our expresses.</p> + +<p>The "Flying Scotchman" travels at 50, 100, or 150 (<i>according to fancy</i>) +miles the hour.</p> + +<p>I object to smoking; also wish all the windows to be opened or closed +(<i>as the case may be</i>).</p> + +<p>The foreign <i>buffet</i>does not equal our refreshment-rooms.</p> + +<p>A plate of soup, half a roast fowl, and mashed potatoes cannot compare +with what we call in England a "ham sandwich."</p> + +<p>I object to the lamp being shaded, or insist upon the lamp being shaded +(<i>according to pleasure</i>).</p> + +<p>Why are we stopping here? Why are we not stopping here?</p> + +<p>It is disgraceful that we should stop here. It is disgraceful that we +should not stop here.</p> + +<p>If this occurs again, I shall write to the papers.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">At the Station.</span></center> + +<p>Why must I go here? Why may I not go here?</p> + +<p>I insist upon going where I please.</p> + +<p>I refuse to answer, as an impertinent question, "what I have to +declare."</p> + +<p>I object to opening that trunk, that portmanteau, and that hat-box.</p> + +<p>It is insolent to accuse me of smuggling. Where is the Chief of Police?</p> + +<p>Have there been any orders to treat my luggage in this manner?</p> + +<p>I complain that, as you have passed my boxes without examination, that I +should have ever been asked for my keys.</p> + +<p>I will not take this omnibus, nor this fly, nor this cart.</p> + +<p>I do not want to patronise any hotel.</p> + +<p>Why do you not put my luggage on that carriage?</p> + +<p>I had a right to say I would take no conveyance—as a matter of fact, I +knew I should be swindled.</p> + +<p>Now do make haste, and do what I ask, or I shall report you to the +Station Master.</p> + +<p>No, I shall give you nothing—it is contrary to the Bye-laws in England.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">At the Hotel.</span></center> + +<p>I object to this room, because it is on the ground, first, or upper +floors (<i>according to taste</i>).</p> + +<p>I do not like the price paid for the <i>table d'hôte</i>.</p> + +<p>I object to the bed-curtains—why are there no bed-curtains?</p> + +<p>I will not pay for <i>service</i>—<i>service</i>should be charged.</p> + +<p>Your prices are extortionate. I shall be careful to warn all my friends +against coming to this hotel.</p> + +<p>Don't be impertinent.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">En Route.</span></center> + +<p>This scenery is disappointing.</p> + +<p>The water-fall is over-rated and the ruin a fraud.</p> + +<p>I will not take off my wide-awake in this Cathedral.</p> + +<p>Why cannot I look at the altar during the celebration of Service?</p> + +<p>I have seen much better things in a ninth-rate town in England than I +find in this Museum.</p> + +<p>I consider the whole tour not worth the candle.</p> + +<p>It is infamous that I should have been induced by false pretences to +come abroad.</p> + +<p>You can easily imagine how I must be missed at home.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Land Measure.</h4> + +<blockquote><p>[Mr. <span class="smcap">Jesse Collings</span> supports the Government Allotments Bill, +although it only holds forth a prospect of one acre, and no cow.]</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Jesse</span> content with <span class="smcap">Salisbury's</span> gift? How odd!</p> +<p class="i2">One acre only, and of cows a lack!</p> +<p class="i0">Pooh! <span class="smcap">Jesse</span> takes this "acre" as a "rod"—</p> +<p class="i2">For faithless <span class="smcap">Gladstone's</span> back.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Question of the Hour.</span>—The Government have been given a good inch +(of coercive power). Will they take a (National) League?</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>WELSH FOR THE WELSH.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Punch</span> by some accident was unable to be present at the "Eisteddfod +Genhedlaethol y Cymry," and therefore could not take part in the +competitions at the Albert Hall. For the sake of the other bards he is +glad, as he feels sure that had he sung his own little composition he +would have been hailed at once "<i>Pencerd Gwalia</i>," "<i>Mynorydd</i>" and +"<i>Owen Dyfed</i>," rolled into one. However, that the World may not suffer +by his unselfishness, he publishes his <i>Anerchiaudau ir Llywydd</i> +(Poetical Address to the President), which he would have sung to an +accompaniment of a hundred harps. As it is short, he gives it in full:—</p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Y Morwynig Gwyntoedd.</span></h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Hi ddiddleth di ddiddleth ghist katte haw di fiddleth,</p> +<p class="i2">Ac kowwe pob gofid y munne,</p> +<p class="i0">Fel lliddell doggggg rawd di see glap spwwt,</p> +<p class="i2">Ond di pplatt gofid rhosyn di ssspnnn</p> +<p class="i10">Fy mam, fly man,</p> +<p class="i10">O pale ale man am di fly man!</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>PRIVILEGED PISTOLS.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Chancellor of the Exchequer</span>, it is rumoured, a few days since, +received a deputation of schoolboys home for the holidays, and other +young gentlemen delegated to him with a petition that he would propose a +bill for the repeal of the duty now demanded for permission to carry a +gun.</p> + +<p>The foreboy of the memorialists, Master <span class="smcap">Smithers</span>, in an address premised +with "Please Sir," informed the Right Honourable Gentleman of the object +of their application. He, and those other fellows, considered the +gun-tax an awfully hard impost, he might say imposition—out of +school-hours. It denied them a recreation they particularly wanted to +enjoy in the holidays, namely, shooting, which was fun for them as good +as for Members of Parliament. Shooting was shooting, whether you shot +sparrows or grouse. But ten bob duty was more than poor fellows could +afford.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/073b.png"> +<img src="images/073b.png" width="100%" alt="Revolvers" /></a> +<h4>Revolvers.</h4> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Jackson</span>, Junior, asked why, if the tax on firearms was intended to +prevent a chap from carrying a gun, it wasn't charged just the same upon +pistols? You couldn't look into a daily paper hardly without seeing an +account of a murder committed, or somebody or other shot, or shooting +himself by accident, with a revolver, or the revolver going off on its +own accord, and killing its owner or someone else. Cads and roughs +almost all of them carried revolvers, and so it was that burglars went +about shooting policemen. If every revolver had to be loaded with a +licence, or the firearm-duty were enforced for all firearms, it would +save no end of lives. But if that didn't signify, and everybody was to +be free to carry a revolver, what use was there in what you might call +fining a fellow for leave to carry a gun?</p> + +<p>The <span class="smcap">Chancellor</span> of the <span class="smcap">Exchequer</span> said that his young friends appeared to +him to have made out a very good case, not so much for the repeal of the +gun-duty as for its extension, if necessary, or at any rate its +enforcement, as regarded revolvers, upon which the existing duty might +require to be increased to an amount which would effectually limit the +possession of those dangerous weapons. Meantime he would consult his +colleagues, who, he was assured, would give this question their most +serious consideration.</p> + +<p>The young gentlemen then gave three groans for the <span class="smcap">Chancellor</span> of the +<span class="smcap">Exchequer</span>, and bolted.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE MARBLE ARCH.</h2> + +<h4>(<i>A Song for the Season.</i>)</h4> + +<blockquote><p>"Can nothing be done for the Marble Arch?... London soot-flakes have +dealt cruelly with a surface admirably calculated to receive +them."—<i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i></p></blockquote> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Air</span>—"<i>I Dreamt that I Dwelt in Marble Halls.</i>"</h4> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">I dreamt</span> that I gazed at the Marble Arch,</p> +<p class="i2">King Fog and King Coal at my side,</p> +<p class="i0">The soot of November, the dust-storms of March</p> +<p class="i2">Had made it a sight to deride.</p> +<p class="i0">I said all the foreigners think, I'll be bound,</p> +<p class="i2">To our City this thing is a shame;</p> +<p class="i0">But I guess 'twill be found, when next Season comes round,</p> +<p class="i2">That its state is much the same.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">It <i>does</i>want a wash, there's no doubt about that,</p> +<p class="i2">For the marble's a dull, dirty brown;</p> +<p class="i0">That is, where it isn't as black as your hat—</p> +<p class="i2"><i>Can't</i>they clean it while Swelldom's from Town?</p> +<p class="i0">Marble? Deft <span class="smcap">Tadema</span>, I will be bound,</p> +<p class="i2">Would say 'tis not worthy the name;</p> +<p class="i0">But I'd wager a pound, when next Season comes round,</p> +<p class="i2">We shall find it still the same.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> + +<h2>EVICTION.</h2> +<center><span class="smcap">A Woful Ballad of Wimbledon.</span> <span class="smcap">Air</span>—"<i>The British Grenadier.</i>"</center> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/074.png"> +<img src="images/074.png" width="100%" alt="EVICTION" /></a> +<p><i>Illustrious President.</i> "<span class="smcap">Now, my Lad, sorry to +Inconvenience you, but—hem—ha—you must really Go—somewhere else!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Some</span> prate of patriotism, and some of cheap defence,</p> +<p class="i0">But to the high official mind that's all absurd pretence;</p> +<p class="i0">For of all the joys of snubbing, there's none to it <i>so</i>dear,</p> +<p class="i0">As to snub, snub, snub, snub, snub, snub the British Volunteer!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">A patriotic Laureate may bid the Rifles form,</p> +<p class="i0">And Citizens may look to them for safety in War's storm;</p> +<p class="i0">But Secretaries, Dooks, and such at this delight to jeer,</p> +<p class="i0">And to snub, snub, snub, snub, snub, snub the British Volunteer!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">A semi-swell he may be, but he may be a mere clerk,</p> +<p class="i0">And he's an interloper, and to snub him is a lark.</p> +<p class="i0">Sometimes he licks the Regulars, and so our duty's clear,</p> +<p class="i0">'Tis to snub, snub, snub, snub, snub, snub the British Volunteer!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">He hankers for an increase in his Capitation Grant,</p> +<p class="i0">It's like his precious impudence, and have the lift he shan't.</p> +<p class="i0">What, make it easier for him to run us close? No fear!</p> +<p class="i0">We'll snub, snub, snub, snub, snub, snub the British Volunteer!</p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">He has a fad for Wimbledon, but that is just a whim,</p> +<p class="i0">And as eviction's all the go, we'll try it upon <i>him</i>.</p> +<p class="i0"><i>He</i>'s not an Irish tenant, so no one will interfere,</p> +<p class="i0">When once more we snub, snub, snub, snub the British Volunteer!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">His targets and his tents and things are nuisances all round,</p> +<p class="i0">As Jerry-Builders, Dooks, and other Toffs have lately found.</p> +<p class="i0">Compared with bricks and mortar and big landlords he's small beer,</p> +<p class="i0">So we'll snub, snub, snub, snub, snub, snub the British Volunteer!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">The Common's vastly handy, there's no doubt, to chaps in town,</p> +<p class="i0">And crowds of Cockneys to the butts can quickly hurry down;</p> +<p class="i0">But what are <i>all</i>Town's Cockneys to one solitary Peer?</p> +<p class="i0">No; let us snub, snub, snub, snub the British Volunteer!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Your Citizen who wants to play at soldiers need not look</p> +<p class="i0">To have his little way as though he were a Royal Dook.</p> +<p class="i0">With building-leases—sacred things!—he must not interfere,</p> +<p class="i0">So let us snub, snub, snub, snub the British Volunteer!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">If he must shoot his annual shoot somewhere, why, let him go</p> +<p class="i0">To Pirbright or to Salisbury Plain, or e'en to Jericho.</p> +<p class="i0">But out from his loved Wimbledon he'll surely have to clear,—</p> +<p class="i0">A final snub, snub, snub, snub to the British Volunteer!</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/075.png"> +<img src="images/075.png" width="100%" alt="IN THE HONEYMOON" /></a> +<h4>IN THE HONEYMOON.</h4> +<p><i>She (beaming).</i> "<span class="smcap">What first attracted you, Dear? What agreeable +Characteristic did I possess to place me above all others in your Sight +and Estimation?</span>"</p> +<p><i>He.</i> "<span class="smcap">H-u-m—le'me see.</span>"—(<i>Ponders.</i>)—"<span class="smcap">H-m—Oh, Darling, I give it +up. Cu'ious Thing, Dear—I never could guess Widdles!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h4>"Room and Verge."</h4> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lord Salisbury</span> agrees with Lord <span class="smcap">Beaconsfield</span> that Asia is large enough +for both Russia and England. Quite so. And unlimited space is large +enough for all the galaxies of Worlds,—until two of them want to occupy +one portion of it. Then comes Chaos or a Cosmical Boundary Question. The +"room enough" theory is a genial one, which would have commended itself +to <i>Uncle Toby</i>. But it does not carry us practically very far on the +road to a settlement. The world was presumably "large enough" to +accommodate the ambitions of <span class="smcap">Octavius</span> and <span class="smcap">Mark Antony</span>. Only they did not +happen to think so. Collision terrestial or celestial does not come from +the narrowness of limits, but from the crossing of courses.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>CHANGE.</h2> + +<h4>(<i>A Weather Forecast for the Next Ten Weeks.</i>)</h4> + +<p><i>August 20.</i>—Heavy downpour commences. Thirty-six inches of rain fell +in as many minutes. The Clerk of the Weather catches cold.</p> + +<p><i>August 27.</i>—Heavy downpour continues. The entire audience at the +Gaiety, being unable to get home without getting drenched, decline to +leave the Theatre, and, after a riot, pass the night there, in the face +of the protests of the Management.</p> + +<p><i>September 3.</i>—Heavy downpour shows no signs of abating. Several +leading Umbrella Manufacturers make rapid fortunes, and are raised to +the Peerage.</p> + +<p><i>September 15.</i>—Heavy downpour still continuing, the Serpentine +overflows its banks, and runs southwards. Salmon-fishing commences in +the Brompton Road.</p> + +<p><i>September 27.</i>—Downpour heavier than ever. The Underground Lines +flooded, and the traffic carried on by penny steamers.</p> + +<p><i>October 8.</i>—Downpour steadily continuing, the Albert Hall is opened as +a National Swimming Bath, and Battersea Park as a Rice Plantation.</p> + +<p><i>October 19.</i>—Downpour still on the increase. The Hippopotamus from the +Zoological Gardens is washed in a torrent down Portland Place, and left +high-and-dry on the steps of the Langham Hotel.</p> + +<p><i>October 28.</i>—Downpour as heavy as ever. Gondolas seen in Piccadilly. A +well-known Duke endeavouring to drive a bathing-machine in Belgrave +Square, upsets it, and is only rescued with difficulty by drags from his +own balcony.</p> + +<p><i>November 3.</i>—Downpour still continuing and London being now under +water, wild-duck shooting commences in Chancery Lane.</p> + +<p><i>November 9.</i>—Downpour at its height. In consequence of the flooded +condition of the Guildhall, the Lord Mayor's banquet is given under a +water-proof tent on Primrose Hill, his distinguished guests approaching +it across the Regent's Park in coal-barges. Prime Minister, in his +speech, commenting upon the weather, describes it "as the worst he ever +remembers."</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> + +<h2>FERDINAND AND ARIEL.</h2> + +<h4>(<span class="smcap">In Bulgaria.</span>)</h4> + +<center>(<i>Shakspeare once again adapted to circumstances.</i>)</center> + +<p><i>Enter</i><span class="smcap">Ariel</span>, <i>invisible, playing and singing</i>. <span class="smcap">Ferdinand</span> <i>following +him</i>.</p> +<div class="figright" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/076.png"> +<img src="images/076.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon--Ferdinand and Ariel" /></a> +</div> +<center><i>Ariel's Song.</i></center> + +<div class="poem1"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Come</span> into Bulgarian Lands,</p> +<p class="i0">We stretch our hands;</p> +<p class="i0">'Tis a chance not to be miss'd.</p> +<p class="i0">When we have kiss'd</p> +<p class="i0">Your hand in loyal fealty there,</p> +<p class="i0">The Crown's sweet burden you may bear.</p> +<p class="i2">Hark! Hark!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><i>Burden.</i> Bow-wow!</p> +<p class="i0">Let the Russ bark!(<i>Dispersedly.</i>)</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><i>Burden.</i> Bow-wow!(<i>Dispersedly.</i>)</p> +<p class="i0">Hark, hark! I hear</p> +<p class="i0">The strutting Gallic Chanticleer</p> +<p class="i0">Cry Cock-a-doodle-doo!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"><i>Ferdinand.</i></p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Where should this music be?</p> +<p class="i0">In th' air, or th' earth?</p> +<p class="i0">It sounds once more, and sure it waits upon</p> +<p class="i0"><i>My</i>forward footsteps. Sitting all alone,</p> +<p class="i0">Musing upon Prince <span class="smcap">Alexander's</span> wreck,</p> +<p class="i0">This music crept upon me unawares,</p> +<p class="i0">Stirring my hope, and rousing Russia's passion,</p> +<p class="i0">With its sweet air. Thence have I followed it,</p> +<p class="i0">Or it hath drawn me rather:—but 'tis gone.</p> +<p class="i0">No, it begins again.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> + +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8"><i>Ariel sings:</i></p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Full fathom deep <span class="smcap">Battenberg</span> lies,</p> +<p class="i2">Of <i>his</i>chance chaos is made;</p> +<p class="i0">But you'll see, if you have eyes,</p> +<p class="i2">Your hopes ripen as his fade.</p> +<p class="i0">You may suffer a great change</p> +<p class="i0">Into a young King. Is't strange?</p> +<p class="i0">Fate which rings poor <span class="smcap">Sandy's</span> knell</p> +<p class="i0">Sounds your coronation bell.</p> +<p class="i0">Hark! dost hear it?—ding-dong-dell!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8">[<i>Burden.</i> Ding-dong!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><i>Ferdinand.</i> This ditty doth decoy, yet fright me,—rather.</p> +<p class="i0">This is no common chance. A golden crown</p> +<p class="i0">Fate proffers me:—I see it,—shall I wear it?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i8">[<i>Left considering.</i></p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>"FINIS CORONAT OPUS."</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> summary given in an evening paper last week of a well-known suit, +now happily at an end, is instructive. Four years ago the plaintiff was +absolutely without means, and apparently utterly friendless. The man who +had wronged her offered her (amongst other infamous actions) a miserable +pittance to expatriate herself and to cease to "annoy" him. She called +in the assistance of the Press; and now she retires with provision for +herself and innocent child, her character re-established, and a sum of +money that our grandfathers would have called a "plum." The paper that +championed her was plucky, and as the result has proved, in the right. +Praise to whom praise is due. Acknowledgment is due to the <i>P. M. G.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>Happy Thought.</h4> + +<center>(<i>By an Unhappy Unionist.</i>)</center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Trevelyan</span> swears he trusts the Grand Old Man,</p> +<p class="i2">And follows him in playing fast and loose.</p> +<p class="i0">Well, we have heard of Leda and the Swan,</p> +<p class="i2">But here's a case of Leader and the Goose!</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /><br /> + +<center><span class="smcap">Popular Education.</span>—<i>Examiner.</i> Give the meaning of "Hagiology." +<i>Candidate.</i> Science of Witchcraft.</center><br /> + +<hr /> + +<h2>SALUBRITIES ABROAD.</h2> + +<p><i>To those about to travel</i>viâ <i>Dover and Calais</i>.—Ask when <i>The +Empress</i>makes the journey. Something like a boat, and the day our party +went by her she did the crossing in the hour, and I won't positively +swear it wasn't a minute or so under that time. There's a +crossing-sweeper for you! The Empress of the Sea! Mind you it was a fine +day, and what I should say would be considered a calm sea, though there +were several sufferers.</p> + +<p>If not in a hurry—and who can hurry in such weather?—the easiest +travelling is by the 11 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> from Victoria; admirable <i>Empress</i>for the +crossing; and a good twenty-five minutes or more for one of the best +buffet-luncheons in France. Stay the night in Paris, and off to your +Royat, your Aix, or wherever it may be, as early as possible.</p> + +<p><i>At the Paris-Lyon Station, en route for Royat.</i>—Owing to the gentle +influence of Colonel <span class="smcap">Waters</span>, attached to the L. C. & D. corps in Paris, +and to the indefatigable exertions of his lieutenant in uniform, <span class="smcap">Gustav +Herlan</span>, the P. L. & M. Company have consented to put a <i>lit-salon</i> +carriage on to their day-train as quite an exceptional concession to an +invalid, who might be supposed to have thus addressed them:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Pity the sorrows of a gouty man,</p> +<p class="i2">Whose trembling limbs have brought him to your door,</p> +<p class="i0">Who asks you to oblige him with—you can—</p> +<p class="i2">A simple <i>lit-salon</i>and nothing more.</p> +</div></div> + +<p>The perfect comfort of this arrangement for a long journey is worth the +price including the <i>supplément</i>, which I am paying when a cheery voice +cries, "Hallo! old chap," and I recognise <span class="smcap">Puller</span>, whom I haven't seen +for some time. I return his greeting heartily. "You've got a <i>coupé +reservé</i>?" he exclaims gleefully, and literally skipping for joy. I +never saw a man in such spirits. He is not absolutely young, nearer +forty than thirty for example, looking so wonderfully fresh, that +turn-down collars and a jacket would suit him perfectly. He is as +clean-shaved as a Benedictine Monk or a Low Comedian. He says of +himself—he is the waggish companion to whom I alluded in my previous +notes—"I am well preserved in high spirits." He insists on paying the +extra seat and <i>supplément</i>. Cousin <span class="smcap">Jane</span> (again going to Royat for the +Cæsar Baths) says she shall be delighted, and so <span class="smcap">Puller</span> is to come with +us. Certainly am delighted to see <span class="smcap">Puller</span>. Will he have his things +brought here? He will, "<i>à l'instant!</i>"—he pronounces it "<i>ar long +stong</i>," and roars with laughter as if he had delivered himself of the +rarest witticism. Then he skips off down the platform, waving an +umbrella in one hand and a stick in the other. Suddenly <span class="smcap">Puller's</span> social +characteristics all flash across me. I haven't seen him for years, and +had forgotten them. I recollect <i>now</i>, he is what they call "an +inveterate punster," and loves when abroad (though an accomplished +linguist) to speak the language of the country in which he may be +temporarily sojourning with a strong English accent; it is also a part +of his humour to embellish his discourse with English idioms literally +translated,—or, <i>vice versâ</i>, to give French idioms in colloquial +English; so that on the whole his conversational style, when in foreign +parts, is peculiar. The impression left in my memory years ago of +<span class="smcap">Puller</span>, is that he is a wonderfully good-natured fellow unless a trifle +puts him out, when he flares up suddenly into red heat; but this is +seldom, and he cools down directly if allowed to stand. When he is not +in the highest possible spirits he is an agreeable companion, as he can +give some interesting, but utterly untrustworthy, information on most +subjects, and, when this comes to an end, he falls asleep suddenly,—he +does everything suddenly,—but, as I have since ascertained, does not +snore. When at his office in London he is the second partner of an +eminent firm of Solicitors with a varied and extensive business. For a +safe and sound legal opinion in any difficult matter, specially on the +Chancery side, there is no one to whom I would sooner go myself, or +recommend a friend than <span class="smcap">James Puller</span>, of <span class="smcap">Horler</span>, <span class="smcap">Puller</span>, <span class="smcap">Puller</span> (J.), +<span class="smcap">Baker and Dayville</span>. For the greater part of the year <span class="smcap">James Puller</span> is +hard at work, and is gravity itself, except on certain social and +festive occasions. But in vacation-time he gives up Law and goes in for +Lunacy. "I feel," he says, when he returns, still capering on the +platform, this time with his stick in one hand and his hat in the other, +"I feel like a school-boy out for a holiday," and, allowing for the +difference of age and costume, he looks the character.</p> + +<p>Travelling is very tiring; so is rising early in the morning (which is +included in the process of travelling) after a night spent in fitful +dozing, one's rest being broken by nervous anxiety as to whether the +waiter will remember to call one at the cruel hour of 6.30, or not, and +determining to be up at that time exactly, and if he doesn't appear +punctually, to ring for him to bring the bath and the boots; then +preternatural wakefulness, then the drowsiness, then the painful +emptiness, then the necessity for extraordinary energy and bustle,—all +this fatigues me so much, that when at last I find myself in a +comfortable railway-carriage, I sink back, and prepare to make up for +the lost sleep of the previous night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Puller</span> has been travelling all night right through, yet he is now<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> as +fresh, as the proverbial lark. He is smoking. He came up smoking. I am a +smoker, but at an early hour on a hot day, and comparatively +unbreakfasted, I do not like the smell of the last half-inch of a strong +and newish cigar such as <span class="smcap">Puller</span> is now smoking. He is sucking at this +last morsel of it as if it were the only one he should take (I wish it +were) for another month, and as if it went to his heart to part with it.</p> + +<p>"Don't you smoke your cigars rather short?" I ask, mildly, by way of a +hint.</p> + +<p>"No," he replies, quickly; "I smoke them rather long. Had him there, +eh?" he says playfully, turning to Cousin <span class="smcap">Jane</span>, who, I regret to say, +encourages him with an appreciative smile. After his fit of chuckles has +subsided (in which I do not join), he takes off his hat <i>à la +française</i>, and addresses himself to Cousin <span class="smcap">Jane</span>.</p> + +<p>"If Madame does not oppose herself to that I shall smoke."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Jane</span> graciously returns, "Oh dear no, I do not mind smoke," which isn't +at all what I want her to say on this occasion. <span class="smcap">Puller</span> throws away what +is left of his cigar, and, producing an enormous case, offers me what he +calls "a beauty,"—very big, very dark one, with a bit of red and gold +paper wrapped round its middle, as if it were in a delicate state of +health and might suffer from rheumatism,—but I decline it, saying +pointedly, "I can't stand smoking so early, and before breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Oh," he returns in an offhand manner, "can't you? I can smoke any time, +it doesn't affect <i>me</i>. Besides, I had a first-rate breakfast at the +fork, and spoon too, at the buffet,"—he pronounces this word as written +in English—this is his fun (<i>i.e.</i>, the fun of a high-spirited +Solicitor on a holiday), and forthwith he lights the big cigar, changes +his seat so as to face us both, and then commences a conversation about +all sorts of things, seasoned with his jokes and comic French, at which +he laughs himself uproariously, and appeals to me to know if it, +whatever the joke may be, "Wasn't bad, was it?" And when I beg him to +spare some of his witticisms, as he'll want them for the friends he's +going to meet at Royat—(thank Heaven, he <i>is</i>going to meet +friends!)—he only says, "Oh, there's lots more where these came from," +and off he goes again. Fortunately he turns to Cousin <span class="smcap">Jane</span>, and +instantly I close my eyes, and pretend to be overcome by fatigue. If +<span class="smcap">Jane</span> is wise she will do the same. <span class="smcap">Jane</span> is tired, but tolerant.</p> + +<p>Finding that neither of us is up to much talking (I have inadvertently +opened an eye) he says, "Look here, I'll show you my travelling-bag," as +if it was something to amuse children. This delights him immensely. He +opens it and explains its compartments, tells how he shaves, what soap +he uses, how he invented a peculiar pomade for travelling, and how he +had thought out this bag and had everything made to fit into its place. +He takes out everything, brushes, combs, razors, glass-pots, knives, +brushes, one after the other, expatiating on their excellence as if he +were a pedlar anxious to do a deal, and we were his casual, but likely, +customers. Then finding our interest waning, he shuts it up, and saying +that the best of travelling in a <i>lit-salon</i>is that you can stretch +your legs, he forthwith begins capering, asks <span class="smcap">Jane</span> if he mayn't have the +pleasure of the next waltz and so forth, until fortunately, he discovers +the secret of the seat which pulls out and becomes a bed, and is so +struck with the idea that he exclaims, "By Jove! this is first-rate! +pillows, mattresses, everything! I've never slept in one of these! I +haven't been to bed all night. You don't mind my taking forty winks—do +you?"</p> + +<p>O dear no—take eighty if he likes.</p> + +<p>"Ah, then," he says in broken English, "I go to couch myself. I salute +you the good morning, Mister and Missis. I have well envy of to sleep." +And thank goodness in another minute the high-spirited Solicitor is fast +asleep, and <i>not</i>snoring.</p> + +<p>Then we all drop off. At Montargis he awakes, breakfasts at the buffet: +we breakfast in our <i>salon</i>. He returns, puffing another cigar, stronger +and bigger than the previous one: but smoking yields to sleeping and his +high spirits become less and less. After his second or third sleep he +becomes hungry. The train is late. He becomes hungrier and hungrier. +Again he smokes; but his cigars are dwindling in size and growing paler +in colour. He calculates when the hour of dinner will be. He foresees +that it will not be till past eight and we breakfasted at eleven. Hunger +has deprived him of all his jokes, all his high spirits; he is +hopelessly depressed, and preserves an almost sullen silence till we +reach Clermont-Ferrand, when the sight of the Commissionnaire of the +Hôtel Continental slightly restores him, and as we get into the Omnibus +he whispers to me feebly, "I say, let's cry '<i>Vive</i><span class="smcap">Boulanger</span>!'"</p> + +<p>I beg him to hold his tongue, or the police will be down on him. I fancy +this warning has its effect, in his present state of hunger, as he +limits himself to whispering out of the window to any passer-by who +happens to be in uniform, "<i>Vive</i><span class="smcap">Boulanger</span>!" but I am bound to say, +nobody hears him, so finding the fun of the jest exhausted within the +first ten minutes, he drops it, and once more collapses, shakes his head +wearily over his wretched state, and expresses in pantomime how he is +dying for something to eat. <span class="smcap">Jane</span> and myself recognise Clermont-Ferrand +and draw one another's attention to all points of interest, more or less +incorrectly. Then, after noticing how familiar all the land-marks seem +<i>en route</i>, we find we have been taken by a different road from the one +we need to travel in order to avoid the dust.</p> + +<p>Ha! Here is Doctor <span class="smcap">Rem</span>. Welcome to Royat! Same rooms, New Proprietor, +but same Hotel in effect, it is the Continental. M. <span class="smcap">Hall</span>, of what +nationality I do not know, exerts himself to see that everything shall +be right for everybody who has just arrived. There are several others by +this train, all requiring special and individual attention, and all, +somehow, getting it. New faces, but civility and readiness to oblige +everywhere. The weather perfect!—perhaps a trifle too perfect. But +Royat is high up, and, if it is hot here, what must it be down below at +Vichy or at Aix! Dinner in the Restauration of the Hotel, where we pant +for air because other visitors, chiefly French, of advanced years and in +various stages of "The Cure," will not allow a door or window to be +opened. We finish dinner, and hurry off for our coffee in the garden of +the Casino Samie. End of first day.</p> + +<p>P.S.—I said last week I could not find the English newspapers in the +reading-room of the Cercle. I have since seen them, <i>Times</i>and +<i>Telegraph</i>. But the only one sold outside is apparently the <i>Morning +Post</i>. Lord <span class="smcap">Salisbury</span> is coming.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE INSURER'S PHRASE-BOOK.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> is no truth in the report that a whole Brigade of Firemen and +Sixteen Fire-engines are now permanently encamped in Kensington Gardens +Square, and that Captain <span class="smcap">Shaw</span> is about to take furnished lodgings in the +immediate neighbourhood of Westbourne Grove.</p> + +<p>No, those men walking up and down the shop and eying everybody +suspiciously are not shop-walkers, as you suppose. Four of them are +detectives, with orders summarily to arrest any customer who looks at +all like an incendiary, and the others are disguised Firemen.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/077.png"> +<img src="images/077.png" width="100%" alt="Excitement at Pad-inked-on" /></a> +<h4>Excitement at Pad-inked-on.</h4> +</div> + +<p>I don't quite know what you mean by speaking of a "holocaust" in +connection with the recent disastrous conflagration which destroyed five +whole streets and a hundred lives, but no doubt the cost <i>will</i>be +enough to make anybody holloa!</p> + +<p>"Why have we to hire a boat to take us from the garden-gate to our +front-door?" Oh, because five million gallons of water were poured down +our street by the Fire-Brigade men the day before yesterday, and the +Main Drainage system is only equal to removing a few gallons at a time.</p> + +<p>Naturally the Water Companies have taken advantage of this state of +things to suggest to householders that, as they have so much water in +their cellars, they can do without any in their cisterns, and to +announce therefore that the supply will be discontinued for a week.</p> + +<p>Is it a fact that Insurance Premiums in Bayswater now vary in proportion +to the distance from Westbourne Grove?</p> + +<p>How curious that "two huge columns of fire" should produce at least half +a dozen equally huge columns of print!</p> + +<p>No, as you say, this wall-paper is not pretty, and walking on hard +concrete-floors is a little unpleasant at first; but then, you see, they +are both absolutely incombustible.</p> + +<p>The Fire-engine in the Hall is certainly a little in the way of the +servants; but then what a comfort it is to feel that with this +precaution, <i>and</i>powerful hydrants laid on to each floor, <i>and</i> +sleeping in fire-proof beds with one's clothes on, <i>and</i>having an +outside iron stair-case to each window in the house, we really <i>are</i> +pretty safe against the next conflagration, in spite of the fact that we +live just opposite a Universal Provider!</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE PRIVATE BANKER'S PÆAN.</h2> + +<center>(<i>Some way after Shakspeare.</i>)</center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">I know</span> a Bank whereto the poor man goes.</p> +<p class="i0">If there too quickly his deposit grows,</p> +<p class="i0">I fancy <i>our</i>Monopoly may decline,</p> +<p class="i0">No, no, at Thirty Pounds we'll draw the line,</p> +<p class="i0">Nor let the Artisan, however thrifty,</p> +<p class="i0">In the Post-Office pile an annual Fifty.</p> +<p class="i0">We've floored them this time after a good fight,</p> +<p class="i0">Government yields, to our extreme delight.</p> +<p class="i0">We Private Banks are saved, by our teeth's skin.</p> +<p class="i0">If they the thin end of the wedge slip in,</p> +<p class="i0">By Jove, they'll open wide the public eyes,</p> +<p class="i0">And smash up all our snug Monopolies.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /><br /> + +<center><span class="smcap">An Amusement scarcely likely to be Popular with Children.</span>—The +Switchback.</center><br /> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80%"> +<a href="images/078.png"> +<img src="images/078.png" width="100%" alt="LONGING FOR A NEW SENSATION" /></a> +<h4>LONGING FOR A NEW SENSATION.</h4> +<p><i>Jack (a Naughty Boy, who is always in disgrace, and most deservedly).</i> +"<span class="smcap">I say, Effie, do you know what I should like? I should like to be +accused of Something I'd never done!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>FIRE AND WATER.</h2> + +<center>(<i>With Apologies to the Shades of the Authors of "Rejected Addresses."</i>)</center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> Fire Fiend was curst with unquenchable thirst,</p> +<p class="i2">And his gnomes to his aid having beckoned,</p> +<p class="i0">From Cornhill to Clapham he flew at a burst,</p> +<p class="i0">And furious flames soon arose from the first,</p> +<p class="i2">And volumes of smoke from the second.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">The Fire Fiend was hungry as Moloch of old,</p> +<p class="i2">And knew not the meaning of pity.</p> +<p class="i0">The new <i>Edax Rerum</i>; voraciously bold,</p> +<p class="i0">His maw a red gulf that was ready to hold</p> +<p class="i2">The calcined remains of a City.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">That Phlegethon-gorge might have served as the grave</p> +<p class="i2">Of man and his works altogether;</p> +<p class="i0">But <span class="smcap">Shaw</span>, the new Life-guardsman, swordless but brave,</p> +<p class="i0">Was ever at hand to extinguish and save,</p> +<p class="i2">And hold the Red Ogre in tether.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">The Fire Fiend as usual went at full pelt,</p> +<p class="i2">But <span class="smcap">Shaw</span> at his heels followed faster,</p> +<p class="i0">Of leather well tanned were <span class="smcap">Shaw's</span> boots and his belt,</p> +<p class="i0">And his helmet was brazen for fear it should melt,</p> +<p class="i2">And the Fire Demon knew him as master.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">The Fire Fiend possessed a most hideous phiz,</p> +<p class="i2">Polyphemus's was not more horrid,</p> +<p class="i0">Unkempt and unwashed was that visage of his,</p> +<p class="i0">For water that touched it went off with a whiz!</p> +<p class="i2">It <i>was</i>so tremendously torrid.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">But <span class="smcap">Shaw</span> on his enemy kept a cool eye,</p> +<p class="i2">Of vigilant valour the symbol.</p> +<p class="i0">Affrighted no more by the Fire Demon's cry</p> +<p class="i0">Than the squeak of a rat; if the Fire Fiend was spry,</p> +<p class="i2">His opponent was equally nimble.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">For Water, Fire's foe, at his best freely flows,</p> +<p class="i2">And the Fire Demon dares not to linger</p> +<p class="i0">Whenever his enemy turns on the hose;</p> +<p class="i0">He stands in much fear of this foeman and those</p> +<p class="i2">Who flock at the lift of his finger.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">The Fire Fiend has schemes, it is credibly said,</p> +<p class="i2">For laying half London in ashes;</p> +<p class="i0">But Water—and <span class="smcap">Shaw</span>—are the things he must dread,</p> +<p class="i0">And at sight of an engine he shakes his red head,</p> +<p class="i2">And his teeth like a lunatic gnashes.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">But his fire-gnomes he multiplies lately so fast</p> +<p class="i2">That the task of repressing them's trying;</p> +<p class="i0">The flare that they make and the heat that they cast</p> +<p class="i0">Are so great that the Fiend seems resolved in one blast</p> +<p class="i2">To set the Metropolis frying.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">He blazes and blazes; <span class="smcap">Shaw</span> gallops to snatch</p> +<p class="i2">His prey from its desperate danger;</p> +<p class="i0">But the Demon's a deuce of a rider to catch,</p> +<p class="i0">And it taxes brave <span class="smcap">Shaw</span> to continue a match</p> +<p class="i2">For the fiery noctivagant ranger.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">And if London is wise she assistance will call,</p> +<p class="i2">For the Water King needs the alliance</p> +<p class="i0">Of hands that are sturdy and limbs that are tall,</p> +<p class="i0">To give the Fire Demon a rattling good fall,</p> +<p class="i2">And set all his imps at defiance.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">How often his fiery flame-banner outrolled</p> +<p class="i2">O'er London our bosoms has shaken!</p> +<p class="i0">The Water King never relaxes his hold,</p> +<p class="i0">But many a time, if the truth must be told,</p> +<p class="i2">We have just, only <i>just</i>, saved our bacon.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">The Fire-Fiend's a foe of redoubtable might,</p> +<p class="i2">And it takes a stout fighter to floor him;</p> +<p class="i0">Yet, in spite of his flames, the ignipotent sprite</p> +<p class="i0">Has been licked up to now by our fire-quelling knight,</p> +<p class="i2">Who strides so triumphantly o'er him.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Look! look! 'tis our Water-King; doesn't he stand</p> +<p class="i2">Like Michael, o'ercoming the Dragon?</p> +<p class="i0">Oh! champion braver than he and his band</p> +<p class="i0">Of brazen-helmed heroes ne'er fought hand to hand,</p> +<p class="i2">Or emptied a flask or a flagon.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">His sword is an axe, and his spear is a hose,</p> +<p class="i2">But Paladins famous in story</p> +<p class="i0">For gallantest charges and swashingest blows,</p> +<p class="i0">Though demons and dragons they met as their foes</p> +<p class="i2">Were ne'er more deserving of glory.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Back, lurid in air, for another regale,</p> +<p class="i2">The Fire-Fiend who's down but not settled,</p> +<p class="i0">With fresh bellowsed flame will return without fail,</p> +<p class="i0">And help to oppose him he'll thankfully hail</p> +<p class="i2">Our Water-King manly and mettled.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">He is down, but not dead, and his dreadful red head</p> +<p class="i2">He again will be lifting to-morrow.</p> +<p class="i0">'Tis Hydrant 'gainst Hydra, and shall it be said</p> +<p class="i0">That for lack of assistance this demon so dread</p> +<p class="i2">Shall doom the great City to sorrow?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">This fierce All-devourer is hungry as Time,</p> +<p class="i2">And would wolf all the world as food-fuel.</p> +<p class="i0">A champion we have—is his pose not sublime?—</p> +<p class="i0">And so let us help him—to fail were a crime—</p> +<p class="i2">To give the Fire Demon his gruel.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">Fierce tyrant is Fire, and his foes are too few</p> +<p class="i2">For a Fiend so alert and so furious,</p> +<p class="i0">Would London be safe, gallant <span class="smcap">Shaw</span> and his crew</p> +<p class="i0">She must manfully back, and she'll find it won't do</p> +<p class="i2">In this instance to be too penurious.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 55%"> +<a href="images/079.png"> +<img src="images/079.png" width="100%" alt="THE "FIRE FIEND"" /></a> +<h4>THE "FIRE FIEND".</h4> +<p><span class="smcap">Shaw the Lifeguard Man.</span> "I'VE GOT HIM UNDER!—BUT I MUST HAVE SUPPORT TO +<i>KEEP HIM DOWN</i>!!"</p> +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 60%"> +<a href="images/081a.png"> +<img src="images/081a.png" width="100%" alt="DISTRIBUTION" /></a> +<h4>DISTRIBUTION.</h4> +<p><i>Robert (to stingy Old Gent, who had given him a Halfpenny).</i> "<span class="smcap">You'll +'xcuse me, Sir—but—would you mind—ah—makin' it a Penny, Sir—which +we has to divide it—'mongst the other Waiters, Sir!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>ROBERT AT THE MINISTERIAL BANKWET.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Her</span> Majesty's Ministers, so far as I understands these sollem matters, +don't seam to have been having a partickler cumferal time of it lately. +<span class="smcap">Brown</span>, who's quite a grate Pollytishun, or at any rate thinks hisself +so, which I spose is pritty much the same thing, says, in his wulgar +way, as they have been and had 2 or 3 slaps in the face lately as has a +good deal staggered 'em, but in course he was ony speaking +paragorically, as the chymists says, so I don't suppose as they was +werry much hurt by 'em, and they most suttenly didn't show not no sines +of 'em when, on Wensday last, they all marched in in triumph to receeve +from the Rite Honnerabel the <span class="smcap">Lord Mare</span> the proud assurance that in his +Rite Honnerabel opinion, and in that of the Grand Old Copperashun over +witch he so royally presides, they had nobly done their dooty, and well +herned the werry hiest reward as he had it in his power to bestow, wiz., +a reel Manshun Ouse Bankwet!</p> + +<p>Praps if there was one of the werry Noble and Rite Honnerabel Gestes as +didn't look quite at his hease, it was the forren Gent as is the +<span class="smcap">Chanceseller</span> of the <span class="smcap">Xchecker</span>, and in course that's werry heasily +accounted for. Weather men bes Tories, or weather they be Libberals, +they all likes men as sales strait and sticks to their cullers, and, if +it's posserbel, nales 'em to the Marst, and never ewen dreams of bawling +'em down coz the weather's a looking jest a little dusty. Howsumever +these sollem thorts ain't quite the thing for such reel jowial Bankwets +as that of Wensday, so I banishes 'em hence without no blessing.</p> + +<p>The grate Conserwatif Cheefs seemed to thorowly enjoy the change, and to +sum on 'em it must have bin a change indeed. Tork about Conserwatifs not +liking change, how about changing the Ouse of Commons, with their +spessimens of the Wulgar Tung, and their most rude questions, and their +imperent mocking larfter, for the splendid Manshun Ouse, and its +gorgeous Bankwet, and sitch an arty recepshun from onered Aldermen and +uncommon Councilmen as amost broke sum of the new wine-glasses with +shaking!</p> + +<p>Puncshally as the sillybrated Manshun Ouse Clock struck harf-past seven +the Prime Minister hentered the Hall, so there was no Hed Cook a cussing +and a swearing in the hot regions below at his <i>Chef-doovers</i>being +spylt with waiting. It was a speshally fine dinner, the Petty Gallatins +o' aspect, and the Wenson, being about the finest as even I ever tasted.</p> + +<p>The pore Epping Forest Depputy got pretty well charfed about where the +Wenson came from, but he bore it like a man, and arsked for another +slice. I was pleased to notice a great improvement in the way as the +sacred Loving Cup was passed round, speshally among the Marshonesses and +Cowntesses, there wasn't above 2 or 3 on 'em as wood grasp it with their +bootiful little wite hands insted of gracefoolly taking off the cover +and showing off their dimond rings wen it was hoffered to 'em.</p> + +<p>As for the speeches, I thinks as the <span class="smcap">Lord Mare</span> has about spylt us in +that respec. His is allers short and sharp, and spoken out like a man, +but most of the others was so slow and so dredfull careful, and so +preshus long, that <span class="smcap">Brown</span> and me both agreed as they was amost sollum +enuff for poor Ministers as is out, rayther than for jolly Ministers as +is in.</p> + +<p>We was all werry much shocked, speshally us Hed Waiters, at hearing from +the <span class="smcap">Lord Mare</span> as how as sumbody at Guildhall had said as all militerry +men was Imposters, and all naval men Tom Fools! But the Fust Lord of the +Admiralty gave it him pretty hot in his absense, and said if as any +tomfoolery was a goin on anywheres he knew who'd be a taking the lead in +it! So Sir <span class="smcap">Wilfull Lawson</span> will probberbly be a leetle more carefuller in +future.</p> + +<p>Lord <span class="smcap">Sorlsbury</span> made a werry long speech, but all I coud make out of it +was two rayther himportant fax. Fustly, that there isn't to be no grate +Uropean War until after the 9th of nex Nowember, so I feels rayther +sorry for pore Mr. Alderman <span class="smcap">De Keyser</span>, and Seccondly, that if there is +to be one anywheres, it will werry possibly be too near home to be +pleasant, which I for one was werry sorry to hear, but I hardly thort +that he meant it or he would not have made us all larf so by telling us, +that the Members of the Ouse of Commons treated it like we men does our +wives, that is, we has our own opinion on 'em in private, but we don't +allow not nothink to be said against 'em in Public. Ah! my Lord Markiss, +how one touch of Natur makes us all kings! Who'd ever have thort that a +werry Prime Minister would have been troubled with a similar complaint +to that as so offen trubbles a pore Hed Waiter.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Goshen</span> apollergised for the absense of the pore 1st Lord of the +Tresury, who was quite nocked up with setting up so late.</p> + +<p>And so ended the last of the long seris of grand Bankwets of the rain of +Lord Mare <span class="smcap">Hanson</span>, a seris to be rememberd for many long years by all on +us, as combining with all the reglar old lot, such a wariety of noveltys +to all sorts and condishuns of sillybrated persons, as has never bin +ekalled afore, and as will and down his name to a werry remote +posteriority as <span class="smcap">Hanson</span> the Magnifisent!</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Robert.</span></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>CHANNEL TALK.</h2> + +<center>(<i>Echoes from the Naval Manœuvres.</i>)</center> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/081b.png"></a> +<img src="images/081b.png" width="100%" alt="Any Port in a Storm" /> +<h4>Any Port in a Storm.</h4> +</div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">"<span class="smcap">What</span> they're at I can't guess,"</p> +<p class="i0">Observes Dungeness,</p> +<p class="i0">"Then the plan you've not read,"</p> +<p class="i0">Responds Beachy Head,</p> +<p class="i0">"<span class="smcap">Fremantle</span> went right on:</p> +<p class="i0">I saw him," says Brighton,</p> +<p class="i0">"Oh, that's all my eye!"</p> +<p class="i0">Ejaculates Rye,</p> +<p class="i0">"Well, he came down my way,"</p> +<p class="i0">Remarks Pegwell Bay,</p> +<p class="i0">"Yes, and <span class="smcap">Hewett's</span> his target;</p> +<p class="i0">That's quite clear," adds Margate,</p> +<p class="i0">"It seems silly to me,"</p> +<p class="i0">Sneers Westgate-on-Sea,</p> +<p class="i0">"Humph! I think it quite real:</p> +<p class="i0">That I do!" replies Deal,</p> +<p class="i0">"And they think so on shore,"</p> +<p class="i0">Says the Light at the Nore,</p> +<p class="i0">"Well, now it's all over,</p> +<p class="i0">Thank goodness!" says Dover.</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Note full of Gaiety.</span>—<i>Loyal Love</i>, the new piece at the Gaiety, +requires a little compression. If the Authoress would only reduce it to +one Act, and have that single scene supplied with a few catchy songs, +there really is no reason why it should not serve some day as a very +effective <i>lever de rideau</i>at the Savoy, as a capital foil to a Comic +Opera. For the rest, Mrs. <span class="smcap">Basil Potter</span> has greatly improved, Mr. <span class="smcap">Willard</span> +is (as usual) excellent, but the remainder of the company are +unimportant. Scenery good, and dresses adequate.</p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 55%"> +<a href="images/082.png"> +<img src="images/082.png" width="100%" alt="ZINGS VUN VOOT RÂHZER HAF LEFT OONZET!" /></a> +<h4>"ZINGS VUN VOOT RÂHZER HAF LEFT OONZET!"</h4> +<p><i>Herr Wohlgemuth.</i> "<span class="smcap">Ach, ya! You must haf hat a ferry coot Master! Your +Foice has <i>lastet</i>so vunderfolly long!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A BALLADE OF THE HOUSE.</h2> + +<center>(<i>Sung apologetically at a recent Banquet.</i>)</center> + +<blockquote><p>"You do not know the number of muzzled Ciceros who are sitting in +the House of Commons, men who have come from the constituencies +conscious of their power, anxious to render service to the +State."—<i>Mr. Goschen at the Mansion House.</i></p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">What</span> if garrulity be rife,</p> +<p class="i2">And what if bald debate,</p> +<p class="i0">Spun out in empty Party strife,</p> +<p class="i2">Has sealed the Session's fate!</p> +<p class="i0">What if the tap-room jest has sped,</p> +<p class="i2">And hot retort has stirred,</p> +<p class="i0">While threats to punch a Member's head</p> +<p class="i2">Have been distinctly heard!</p> +<p class="i0">Ah, what?—If but the House disclose</p> +<p class="i0">A score of Muzzled Ciceros!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0">What if things are not as they were</p> +<p class="i2">Some twenty years ago;</p> +<p class="i0">And manners that might make one stare</p> +<p class="i2">Are now thought <i>comme il faut</i>;</p> +<p class="i0">What if the tongue of Billingsgate,</p> +<p class="i2">The grace of Seven Dials,</p> +<p class="i0">Now modestly subserve the State?</p> +<p class="i2">There's one at them who smiles,</p> +<p class="i0">And points to where there sit in rows</p> +<p class="i2">A score of Muzzled Ciceros!</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nautical Superstition.</span>—Mr. <span class="smcap">David Jones</span>, of the Welsh Mercantile Marine, +Shipowner, proposed to call a vessel recently completed the +<i>Eisteddfod</i>. A Saxon seaman objected to that as an unlucky name, +because any ship so denominated would be sure to spring a leek.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h4>All the Difference.</h4> + +<center>"Every Poet hates to be called 'Mr.'"—<i>Globe.</i></center> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i0"><span class="smcap">Formality</span> sometimes is Scorn's twin sister—</p> +<p class="i2">The prefix to the Poet means disaster;</p> +<p class="i0">But though no Bard would be addressed as "Mister,"</p> +<p class="i2">How they all love to be addressed as "Master!"</p> +</div></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>WHY HE WENT.</h2> + +<p><span class="smcap">Some</span> doubts having been expressed in influential quarters as to the +genuine character of the Manifesto alleged to have been recently put +forth to the European Powers by Prince <span class="smcap">Ferdinand</span> on his entry into +Bulgaria, the following, whatever subsequent changes may have been +diplomatically introduced into it prior to publication, may be +confidently regarded as an authentic transcript of that document in its +original form.</p> + +<p><i>To the Crowned Heads of Europe, and others whom it does or does not +concern, greeting, &c.</i></p> + +<p>Be it known to those who have been interested in, and somewhat mystified +by our recent movements, that we, <span class="smcap">Ferdinand the First</span>, by the voice of +the Regents, and the will of the Great Sobranje, elected Monarch of +Bulgaria, wishing to make clear and explain why that we, having +originally held aloof from any idea of acceptance of the post, and even +having snubbed the Deputation who came to offer it to us in the name of +the Bulgarian people, have apparently at the eleventh hour, to the +exasperation of Russia, the consternation of the Porte, the indifference +of Germany, the annoyance of Austria, the chagrin of France and the +hearty amusement of England, suddenly turned round, and accompanied by a +small portmanteau and a suite of two, accepted the situation and started +on a penny steam-boat for Sofia, wish to make statement as follows:—</p> + +<p>Having discovered upon inquiry that the palace required re-papering and +was sadly out of repair, with both gas and water-rates seven quarters in +arrear, while it appeared that both the throne and crown would have to +be hired, and possibly only a lame omnibus horse available for our use +at the Coronation procession, and taking in regard the fact that no +guarantee was forthcoming that our allowance from the Civil List would +touch anything like £150 a-year, we at first reluctantly decided, spite +its undeniably flattering nature, to decline the offer so spontaneously +made to us. And we conveyed as much to the delegates who received the +news crestfallen, and were about to depart in sulky silence when a +telegram arrived from Sofia of such an encouraging and startling +description, that it seemed, to us at least, to put the question in an +entirely fresh and original light, and in one that we felt might make us +waver in our determination. It simply announced the fact that the +Government, never doubting of our acceptance of the crown, had already +taken the bull by the horns, and ordered <i>at a local Ready-Made Clothing +Establishment a complete brand-new Uniform</i>for us to wear the moment we +set our foot on Bulgarian soil. "Buttons and all?" we asked. "Buttons +and all!" was the reply. This gracious and patriotic, and quite +unexpected act profoundly touched us. Indeed, it decided us; and when it +was further intimated to us that <i>the bill would not be sent in to us</i>, +but go to increase the deficit in the forthcoming Budget, we did not +hesitate, but accepted the full responsibilities of the situation, and +informed the Deputation that, spite the hostile attitude of Europe, we +would go to Sofia, and at least "try it on."</p> + +<p>Thus, and for this reason, we have started on our venturesome journey, +whether or not to a successful issue the future alone can show. We have, +however, made provision for emergency, and stipulated that, in the event +of any sudden revolution obliging us to scuttle back again over the +frontiers post haste, the uniform in question shall be regarded as our +own personal property, and not be liable to be claimed as a royal +perquisite, and altered to fit our possible successor. This, then, is +the true statement of the reason that has induced us to assume the +recent attitude that we have felt constrained to take in the face of the +European Powers, concerning whom we may add, in conclusion, that their +laughter if they are amused, or their howling if they are angered, are +at the present moment equally matters of supreme indifference to us.</p> + +<p class="regards">(<i>Signed</i>)</p> + +<p class="regards"><span class="smcap">Ferdinand</span>,<br /><br /> <i>Prince Elect of Bulgaria.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> + +<div class="center"><table class="essence" summary="ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT"> +<tr><td align='left'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<h2>ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + +<center>EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</center> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><i>House of Lords, Monday, August 8.</i>—Curious debate in<br /> Lords. As +everyone knows, <span class="smcap">George Ranger</span> has given<br /> notice to Volunteers that some +of his tenants in neighbourhood<br /> of Wimbledon object to the assembling of +Camp, and so the<br /> tents must be struck. As Commander-in-Chief, <span class="smcap">George<br /> +Ranger</span> is, of course, specially solicitous for the prosperity<br /> and +convenience of the great and singularly cheap adjunct to<br /> regular forces. +But as between a landlord's interest and a<br /> patriot-soldier's sentiments +sentiment must take back seat.<br /> Nice thing to talk about in after-dinner +speeches, and at<br /> opening of Bazaars; but, <span class="smcap">George Ranger</span> regrets to say,<br /> + quite another pair of sleeves in actual<br /> life. So Camp must be struck.</p> + +<p>To-night <span class="smcap">Wemyss</span> brings on<br /> +Motion deprecating contemplated<br /> +procedure. Removal of the Camp,<br /> +he said amid cheers, would be<br /> + "nothing short of a national calamity."<br /> + Would endanger progress if not<br /> + existence of Volunteer movement.<br /> + Dook behaved most nobly.<br /> +Declared with tear in his voice<br /> +that he would not be obstacle to<br /> +free course of debate. Lest<br /> +Peers of England<br /> +should be awed by his<br /> +presence when<br /> + discussing<br /> +matter of<br /> +"national<br /> +interest,"<br /> +G. R would<br /> +withdraw,<br /> +which he did!</p></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> + +<p>Noble Lords made free use of their liberty. <span class="smcap">Wantage</span> who, fresh from his +command at Wimbledon, knows all about it, deplored the contingency. +<span class="smcap">Spencer</span> effectively brought the ultimate ends of his left-hand whisker +to witness that driving-out of Volunteers from Camp would be "a public +disaster." <span class="smcap">Harris</span> hinted, on behalf of Government, that British +tax-payer might somehow be brought into this domestic disturbance, of +course with hand in breeches-pocket. Might indemnify <span class="smcap">George Ranger</span> +against loss real or imaginary, and so keep Camp for Volunteers.</p> + +<p>House of Commons at the moment just entered Committee of Supply, pricked +up its ears as rumour reached it. Sage of Queen Anne's Gate observes +that, by merciful dispensation of providence rare in this direction, +Lords cannot vote money in relief of Royal Dukes or otherwise, and +Commons may have something to say about Wimbledon when question brought +before it.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Committee of Supply.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—Lords adjourned at 5.40 this afternoon. Peers left House as +if bomb had exploded. Only <span class="smcap">Rosebery</span> giving notice that early next +Session he will "call attention to constitution of House of Peers, and +move Resolution." Peers of older creation, like <span class="smcap">Brabourne</span>, shocked; +whilst Old Mother <span class="smcap">Hubbard</span>—only just picked up a bargain set of robes, +nearly new—very uneasy.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 30%"> +<a href="images/084a.png"> +<img src="images/084a.png" width="100%" alt="Earl Sp-nc-r" /></a> +<h4>Earl Sp-nc-r introduces Incontrovertible Argument.</h4> +</div> + +<p>"These young Radicals," said <span class="smcap">Brabourne</span>, adjusting his ill-fitting +coronet, "never satisfied. Must always be bringing themselves to front, +and reform everything. Why not leave our sacred House to itself. +<span class="smcap">Rosebery</span>, everybody knows, yearns after the Commons, an institution +which I believe is situated in some parts of this building. I, for one, +very glad to get rid of him. Will undertake, if I can get support (which +I don't doubt), to bring in Bill, legalising <span class="smcap">Rosebery's</span> dismantling +himself, and his being qualified to sit in the Commons." <span class="smcap">Hubbard</span> (forget +his new name) offers to back the Bill. "Yes," said <span class="smcap">Brabourne</span>, "that will +do admirably. You'll stand for new Peers, and so whole House will be +represented. Impossible that we, of the Ancient Peerage, can brook +impertinence of this kind."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + +<p>In Commons sitting impartially divided between Scotch votes in Supply, +and Technical Education Bill, explained by <span class="smcap">Hart-Dyke</span>. Hard to say which +division duller. Scotch debate lightened by rather massive joke of +proposing to reduce salary of Secretary for Scotland by £1,000. +Unanimous protest of Scotch Members against this office being held by +Member of House of Lords. If there was £1,500 to be pouched, why should +not representative of the people have it, instead of being lavished upon +bloated member of the aristocracy? Things looked so serious, that Lord +Advocate put up to beg that Members be satisfied with discussion as far +as it had gone, promising opportunity for renewal to-morrow, when +(though didn't mention this) care will be taken to have present force +strong enough to resist raid on Scotch office. Proposal unsuspiciously +assented to.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Supply.</p> + +<p><i>Wednesday.</i>—A nicht wi' <span class="smcap">Burns</span>. A good drizzling Scotch mist from noon +till Six o'Clock. Scotch Lunacy, Sheriff of Lanarkshire, Secretary for +Scotland, Scotch Technical Instruction Bill were among subjects dealt +with. Might have been going on now had not one of the Scotch Members, +feeling his brain softening, moved the Closure. Old Morality woke up +from his sleep in condition of righteous indignation. Here was audacity, +indeed! An obscure Scotch Member presuming to poach on his preserves, to +interfere with his sacred privilege of moving Closure! Began in tones of +mingled sorrow and anger to protest. <span class="smcap">Speaker</span> interposed. Reminded him +that Closure motion could not be debated. Must be put forthwith. So +done. Flood of talk stopped. Bill under discussion read Second Time, and +Old Morality led out, pallid and palpitating.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/084b.png"> +<img src="images/084b.png" width="100%" alt="Obstruction!" /></a> +<h4>"Obstruction!"</h4> +</div> + +<p>Lord Advocate coming back from visiting him, finds passage obstructed by +<span class="smcap">Arthur Balfour</span>. Shall he jump over, or crawl under? Either difficult on +August day for a stout gentleman. So whispers across barricade that +"<span class="smcap">Smith's</span> much cut up," and sits down on hither side.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—All Scotch.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday.</i>—Very small attendance in Commons. Considerably over forty +remain on Opposition Benches to support Sage of Queen Anne's Gate's +demand for Adjournment, in order to discuss cost and consequences of +<span class="smcap">Drummond Wolfe's</span> pic-nic in the East. Soon as gained consent, general +exodus, and Sage cheerfully chats across deserted floor with <span class="smcap">Goschen</span>, +who takes incessant notes. <span class="smcap">John Dillon</span>, who, what with intolerable +interposition of Scotland yesterday, has not made speech since Tuesday, +breaks in and shows that, next to Ireland, Egypt is most distressful +country that ever yet was seen. Conversation drags along till after Ten +o'Clock, when it dies of sheer inanition. Then Government Allotment Bill +on. <span class="smcap">Harcourt</span> makes discovery that it promises only one acre and no cow +at all. <span class="smcap">Goschen</span> hauled up again to whipping-post. Taunted with sudden +conversion to principle of compulsion. True, didn't like compulsion. Had +always said so, but "impossible for a single member of a Government to +carry out his views on every point;" whereat Opposition grinned.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Allotments Bill read Second Time.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 20%"> +<a href="images/084c.png"> +<img src="images/084c.png" width="100%" alt="Clywch! Clywch!" /></a> +<h4>"Clywch! Clywch!"</h4> +</div> + +<p><i>Friday.</i>—Some sensation in moderately crowded House at Question Time, +when report ran round Benches that Sir <span class="smcap">John Puleston</span>, Knight, was +approaching. Slight reaction of disappointment when he entered. Vague, +though prevalent notion, he'd come down in knightly costume, with vizor +down (or up, as the case may be), armed "cap and pie," as <span class="smcap">Gent-Davis</span> +says, with lance in rest, and Squire in attendance. On contrary, lounged +in just as if nothing had happened, with slightly preoccupied look and +little start of surprise when congratulated on honour Government had +done itself. "Oh! ah! yes! Know what you mean. Thanks. It's very hot, +ain't it?" he said, making way through throng of congratulators. +"Clywch! Clywch!" roared <span class="smcap">Abraham</span>, humorously looking over newspaper +announcing Knighthood.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you?" I asked. "What are you clucking about?"</p> + +<p>"I was only coughing in my native tongue," he said. "Clywch! Clywch!"</p> + +<p>Various reasons suggested why <span class="smcap">Puleston</span> made Knight just now. <span class="smcap">Howard +Vincent</span> says it's because he's the only Member for English borough that +can pronounce the word "Eisteddfod," and knows the plural isn't +"Eisteddfod<i>s</i>". Whatever the reason, everyone heartily pleased. The new +Knight, they say, will keep his own Table Round. Dean's Yard, Eight +o'Clock. Dress optional.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Row about Lords' Amendments to Irish Land Bill.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>LAWFUL (?) LATITUDE.</h2> + +<p>As "cross examination to credit," has recently been considerably +developed by certain members of the legal profession, the following +questions are suggested to students studying for call to the Bar, or +admission to the roll of Solicitors, as likely to be peculiarly +conducive to qualification.</p> + +<p><i>To a Bishop.</i>—When your Lordship was at school were you ever flogged? +Will you swear it was not for committing petty larceny? Did you ever in +your life steal an apple? When at the University were you ever sent +down? Will you undertake to say that you have never been drunk? When you +were two-and-twenty years of age did you ever swear or use profane +language? Remember you are on your oath, my Lord, and answer this—will +you dare to assert that you have never in the whole course of your life +been guilty of conduct that had it been brought to light would not have +been a proper theme for denunciation from your Lordship's own pulpit?</p> + +<p><i>To a General.</i>—Now, Sir, have you ever been accused of cowardice? Is +it not a fact that some little time before you obtained your first +commission you were known as "Tell-tale <span class="smcap">Tit</span>"? Will you swear you have +never been guilty of cheating? As a matter of fact, did you not +frequently get a comrade to do your verses at Eton, and then allow your +tutor to believe that you had written them yourself? Had a +brother-General been guilty of such a crime, would you have not been +forced to admit that it was conduct unworthy of an officer and a +gentleman? As an expert in defining a standard of honour, will you +venture to say that there is any difference in the degree of shame +attaching to construing with a concealed crib and cheating at cards?</p> + +<p><i>To a Queen's Counsel.</i>—Now, Sir, will you——</p> + +<p>But no, it will be unnecessary to prepare any questions for a Barrister, +as <i>he</i> will know how to protect himself from insult.</p> + +<hr /><br /> + +<center><span class="smcap">At Low Water Mark.</span>—The Channel Tunnel.</center><br /> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 45px;"> +<img src="images/084d.gif" width="45" height="20" alt="pointing finger" /> +</div> + +<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> + +<hr /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume +93, August 20, 1887., by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, AUGUST 20, 1887 *** + +***** This file should be named 33036-h.htm or 33036-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/0/3/33036/ + +Produced by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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