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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/37078-8.txt b/37078-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..75ee86d --- /dev/null +++ b/37078-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1825 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 93., +October 22, 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, Vol. 93., October 22, 1887 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: August 14, 2011 [EBook #37078] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer, +Nigel Blower and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 93. + + + +October 22nd, 1887. + + + + +MR. PUNCH'S MANUAL FOR YOUNG RECITERS. + +[Illustration:] + +As has been observed earlier in this series, the Amateur Reciter is +influenced by a natural ambition to harrow his audience to the best of +his ability. + +And, be it said, the average audience is not at all averse to being +harrowed--provided this is done with any science and refinement. When +persons are met together for social enjoyment, nothing apparently +affords them keener pleasure than a performance which produces certain +peculiar sensations, such as the feeling of partial want of control +over the facial nerves, smarting behind the eyes, increasing +obstruction in the throat, and a general conviction that, unless +something occurs to make them laugh at once, they will be irresistibly +compelled to sob like so many seals. It is, perhaps, a little odd--but +the taste exists, and must be taken into account. The sole drawbacks +are that, too often, the means adopted to secure the desired result +depend more than should be upon sentiment which might almost be +described as false; that the incidents occasionally have too little +relation to real life; and that, what might have proved eminently +touching, is marred by some involuntary association with the ludicrous +and grotesque. In his anxiety to preserve his pupils from such +pitfalls as these, _Mr. Punch_ offers an example in which the +blemishes he has hinted at have been sedulously avoided. It is at once +homely, wholesome, and tear-compelling--like the common onion. You +will find you produce a favourable impression at once by announcing it +as,-- + +POSITIVELY THE LAST PERFORMANCE! + +(_You must come on with a general suggestion in your manner that +you are supposed to be the proprietor of an itinerant Cat and Canary +Troupe. Begin with a slow and somewhat depressed shake of the head, as +if in answer to imaginary inquirer._) + + No, we ain't performin' to-day, Sir, and the boys are all on the + gape + At seem' the mice in mournin', and the cats in chokers o' crape; + But I'm giving the Show a rest, d'ye see? for I didn't feel up to + the job, + (_Pause--then subdued_) For my leadin' comejian's left me, Sir-- + (_Explanatory, perceiving you are not understood_)--the brindle + kinairy--(_more impatiently_) Bob! + What, ye don't remember? (_Surprise._) Not him as wore the toonic + o' Turkey red? + What rode in a gilded kerridge with a 'at an' plumes on his 'ed? + And, as soon as we'd taken a tanner, 'ud fire a saloot from the + gun? [_Excitedly._ + There was Talent inside o' that bird, there was, or I never see it + in one! + (_Philosophic bitterness._) Well, he's soon forgot--but I've often + thought as a + _fish_ keeps longer than Fame! + (_Sudden comprehension and restored cordiality._) Oh, ye didn't + know him as _Bob_?... I see--no, that were his _private_ + name. + I used to announce him in public on a more long-winded-er scale-- + I christened him "Gineral Moultky," (_apologetically_) which he + _'ad_ rather gone at the tail; + And a bird more popilar never performed on a peripathetic stage, + He was allers sure of a round of applause as soon as he quitted + the cage! + For he thoroughly hentered into the part he was down for to play, + And he never got "fluffy" nor "queered the pitch,"--leastwise, + till the hother day. + I thought he'd bin hoverexertin' hisself, and 'ud better be out of + the bill, + But it wasn't till yesterday hevenin I'd any ideer he was _ill_! + Then I see he was rough on the top of his 'ed, and his tongue + looked dry at the tip, + And it dawned on me like a thunderbolt--"Great Evings!" I + groaned,--"THE PIP!" (_Pause here, to emphasise the + tremendous gravity of this discovery._) + Well, I _'ad_ bin trainin' a siskin to hunderstudy the part, + (_more ordinary tone for this_) + And I sent him on--(_tolerantly_)--which he done his best, but he + 'adn't no notion o' _Hart_! + So I left the pitch as soon as I could, and (meanin' to make more + 'aste) + I cut across one o' them buildin' sites as was left a runnin' to + waste. + There was yawning pits by the flinty road, as rendered the + prospeck dull, + And 'ere and there a winderless 'ouse, with the look of a grinning + skull, + (_Try to paint this scene visibly for the audience; background is + essential for what is to come._) + A storm had bin 'anging about all day (and it _broke_, you'll + remember, at last!) + So I 'urried on, it was gettin' late--and the Gineral sinking fast! + (_You are now approaching the harrowing part, but keep yourself in + reserve for the present._) + But all on a sudding I 'eard him give a kind of a feeble flap, + And I stops, and sez in a 'opeful way, "Why, you're up in yer + sterrups, old chap." + + (_A bold metapher applied to a bird, but characteristic in the + speaker._) + + (_Sink your voice._) Then I see by the look of his sorrowful eye + he was thinkin': "Afore I go, + I'd like to see one performance--for the last--of the dear old + Show!" + + (_Note, and make your audience feel, the touch of Nature here._) + + And I sez, with a ketch in my voice, "You _shall_!" and I whipped + the sheet off the board, + I stuck up the pair o' trestles, and fastened the tightrope cord; + Then I propped the Gineral up in a place from which he could see + the 'ole, + And I set the tabbies a-sparring, and the mice a-climbing the pole. + + (_Build up the whole scene gradually; the dreary neighbourhood, + the total absence of bystanders, the lurid threatening sky, and + the humble entertainment proceeding in the foreground._) + + I put my company through their tricks--and they made my hold eyes + dim, + For they never performed for no orjence like they did last night + for _him_! + Them tabbies sparred with a science you'd 'ardly expect from sich, + And the mouse (what usually boggles) fetched flags with never no + 'itch! + Aye, we worked the Show in that lonely place to the sound o' the + mutterin' storm, + Right through till we come to the finish--the part _he_ used to + perform. + He was out of the cage in a minnit--egged on by puffessional pride, + He pecked that incompitent siskin till he made him stand o' one + side! + Well, I felt like 'aving a good cry _then_--but the time + 'adn't come for that, + So I slipped his uniform over his 'ed, and tied on his little + cock-hat. [_With great tenderness._ + And he set in his tiny kerridge, and was drored along by the mice, + A-looking that 'appy and pleased with hisself, I got 'em to do it + twice! [_Tone of affectionate retrospection._ + The very tabbies they gazed on him then with their heyes dilatin' + in haw, + As he 'obbled along to the cannon, with the match in his wasted + claw! + I never 'eard that cannon afore give sech a tremenjious pop-- + (_Solemnly._) And a peal o' thunder responded, as seemed all over + the shop! + For a second Bob stood in the lightning, so noble, and bold, and + big;-- + Then ... a stagger ... a flutter ... a broken chirp--(_you can add + immensely to the effect here by a little appropriate action. + Pause,and give time for a solemn hush to fall upon the audience, + then, with a forced calm, as if you were doing violence to your + own feelings_)--he was orf, Sir,--(_a slight gulp_)--he'd 'opped + the twig! + + (_Second Pause: then more briskly, but still with strong + emotion to the close_) + + So now you've the hexplanation of the crape round the tabbies' + necks, + And kin understand why we close to-day "in token of our respecks." + + * * * * * + +The time has now come for _Mr. Punch_ to bid his pupils farewell, +which he does with a pleasure that he has some reason to hope will be +not unreciprocated. During the few months over which this course has +extended, he has made it his aim to furnish the young carpet-knight +for the fray as completely as possible, and, if the Amateur Reciter +be not (as some hold) already invulnerable, the panoply of pieces with +which he has been armed here should go far to render him so. + +All _Mr. Punch_ would ask in return is that, when any one of his young +friends is retiring, flushed with triumph, amidst an intoxicating +murmur of faint applause and renewed conversation, after delivering +some composition of his Preceptor's, he will not suffer himself to be +completely dazzled by success, but will remember the means which have +contributed thereto with such gratitude as he may be able to command. + + * * * * * + +"DISCOVERIES AT POMPEII."--Under this heading we read in the _Times_ +that four silver urns of fair size were found, also four smaller +vessels, eight open vases, four cups ornamented with leaves, &c. +"Urns" for hot water: "smaller vessels," tea-pots; "eight open vases," +sugar-basins; "four cups," tea-cups, "ornamented with leaves,"--very +fanciful design, probably tea-leaves,--and there we have before us +"Five o'clock Tea, as known to the Ladies of Pompeii." + + * * * * * + +THE LEGION OF DISHONOUR. + +[Illustration] + +_The Modern Autolycus sings_:-- + + When parvenus begin to peer, + With heigh! the ribbon on the coat! + Why, then the love of rank shines clear, + In base-blood, spite of the People's vote. + + The medal gleaming on the breast! + With heigh! the red coins how they ring! + The Citizens clamour with eager zest, + Despite their hate of crown and king! + + The _bourgeois_ soul star-honours wants, + With heigh! the peacock-aping jay! + The hunger for honours finds singular haunts, + Their sale is a traffic that's bound to pay. + +I have served Princes, and, in my time, worn Imperial livery, but now +I am in the Republic's service. + + But shall I mourn for that, or fear? + Gold glitters, silver's bright, + And decorations not _too_ dear + Citizen-souls delight. + + If pedlars may have leave to live, + Though "honours" cram their budget, + A good account I yet may give; + If caught,--I can but trudge it! + + Ribbons of all colours, lo! + Crosses--mark their gleam and glow! + Blue as violets, red as roses, + Buy them swift whilst power dozes! + Decorated thus you'll clamber + To court-height or lady's chamber. + Golden talismans are these. + _Parvenus_ may pass with ease + With these gauds to heights the leal + Buy with brain or stainless steel. + Come buy of me, come buy, come buy! + Cheap "honours" now is all the cry! + Buy ribbons--like tape, + Blue blood you may ape, + They're dainty, and not too dear-a! + With peers you may tread, + Yet hold up your head, + They're the newest and finest of wear-a! + Come to the pedlar, + Money's a meddler, + That gets _all_ men by the ear-a! + + [_Has HIS ear suddenly pulled by Madame La République._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: RETALIATION. + +_Cabby._ "WHA'S THIS FOR, LADY? WHICH MY FARE'S TWO SHILL----" + +_Old Lady (quite able to take care of herself)._ "I BEG YOUR PARDON, +CABMAN. I KNOW THE DISTANCE--IT'S NOT THREE MILES BY TWO HUNDRED +YARDS. PLEASE KNOCK AT THE----" + +_Cabby._ "UGH! Y' 'ON'T HEV A DOUBLE KNOCK, I CAN TELL YER THAT!"] + + * * * * * + +ROBERT ON SPELLING. + +I've bin informed, on such orthority as I carnt for a moment dout, +wiz., Professor BASSINGHAM of the White Cross Brigade, that a cumpany +has bin formed in Amerrikey to perswade hewerybody as writes English +to spell it as I does. I never knowd afore but what I spelt my +spelling like other littery gennelmen, but I'm told now that I don't, +but that I spells it more nateral like, and so it appears that after +about 2 years thinkin of it over, the gratest Orthers in Amerrykey has +all resolved to follow my nobel xample and do as I does, as neer as +they can git to it. So they has formed theirselves into the "Spelling +Reform Association," and has got a Presedent, and Wise Presidents, +and a Counsel, and a Seketerry, and all the blooming luxurys of a rich +Cumpany, and has jest published their fust Number and charges fore +shillins for it, as I nose to my corst, cos I've jest bin and bort +one. + +Well, having jest a lezzure hour or 2, I've bin a trying to read my +noo book, witch is suttenly to me a dear book, but I greeves to say +as I don't find werry much in it, as I understands. They suttenly uses +sum werry powerful words, and sez sum werry powerful things, and +tries their werry best to spell like me, but I don't think as I can +troothfully say as they always suckeeds. They spels _hed_ like me, and +_helth_, and _dropt_, and _enuf_; but who ever seed me use sitch words +as _thru_, or _cof_, or _thuro_, or _tuf_, or _ughly_? + +Professor CHADBAND, L.L.D., says that "our senseless spelling makes +him ashamed of his language, and yet thru habit he continues it." +DAVID D. FIELD, L.L.D., of New York, talks of our Nobel English Tung +"being disfigured," and says I ought to be haild as a deliverer! + +Professor HADLEY says, "our language is shockingly speld." Lord LYTTON +says, "it is a lying round-about puzl-heded delusion!" and our own +heloqwent Sir C. E. TREVELYAN, K.C.B., says, "it is a labyrinth, a +chaos, an absurdity, and a disgrace!" and the Hedditer of the book +winds it all up by saying that "it is the wurst there is!" Poor old +English Langwidge! I ony wonders how SHAKESPEAR and MILTON, and +BURNS managed to get on with it, tho suttenly BURNS was a dredful +bad speller. Why he used to spell "who" _wha_, and "have" _hae_, and +"whom" _wham_! But then he was only a poor plowman, and not an Hed +Waiter. I of coarse little thort wen I fust commenced my umbel efforts +to instruckt and enliten the world with skimmings from my daily +dairy, that I shood ever be held up to the admirashun and gratitood of +English mankind as a deliverer of our nobel English Tung from its +many defecks, but I of course acceps the pursishun, and, I ope, with +becoming umility, and if the Spelling Reform Association chooses, as +seems ony nateral, to elect me as one of their Wice Presidents, with a +nice cumferal little salary paid quarterly, in adwance, I shall not at +all object to become also one of their regular contribbuters, or ewen +to hedit sum of their harticles as is really not quite hup to the mark +in the spelling line. + +Professor F. J. CHILD, P.D., L.H.D., cums it rayther strong when he +says, "Sum hav a religious aw, and sum hay an erth-born passion for +our establisht spelling. I don't much care how anybody spells, so +he spels different from that." But praps one of the werry greatest +staggerers in my four-shilling staggering book, is what the Heditter +says, wiz., "A filologist who should uphold our present mode of +spelling, would be like an astronomer who should teach that the Erth +is based on a Turtl." + +I think that's about the most wunderfullest sentense as ewen a +Hedhitter ever wrote, and they does sumtimes cum out with a startler +or 2. Fust with regard to the spelling. As I don't in the least know +what a Filologist means I carnt of course say much as to that, but if +there is one mortal thing in this butiful world of ours as I does know +sumthink about, I should think as all the ciwilized world woud agree +as it was Turtle, and I refuses at once, without no manner of dowt, +to pardon the man who coud carmly and cooly sit down and write that +almost sacred name without his final Hee! Turtl, indeed! why it amost +makes me shudder as I rites it down; and jest before Lord Mare's Day +too, why it's hadding hinsult to hinjury. But ewen that isn't all the +marwels of this most egstrordinary sentense. What in the world can he +mean by saying as the world is based on a Turtl? + +Of course no one can posserbly know better nor me, that without that +glorious addition to a gorgeous _Manu_, the werry hiest classes of +society, such as Princes, and Lord Mares, and Bishops, and Aldermen, +woud find it remarkabel difficult to git through their harduous +dooties, but ewen I should never have once thort of saying that the +hole world is _based_ upon it, which I spose means, carnt posserbly +git on without it. No, if there's one thing as I strongly objecs to, +it's xaggerashun, and in this werry partickler case I boldly charges +it against the Hedhitter of "Spelling," price four shillings, even +though he and his frends does do me the hi honour of holding me hup as +a bennyfacter to all English spelling races. + + ROBERT. + +Pose Cript.--I sees as how a gent of the xstrordinary name of "EIZAK +PITMAN" has been and gorn and rote to the _Times_ on this werry same +subjeck as me; but I'm two busy jest now with prepperrations for the +himportantest of all days--need I say the Ninth of Nowember--to be +abel to give all my hole mind to it, as it seems to require. But I at +once, without not no hezzytation and dowt, gives my caudial assent +to his Golden Rule, wiz: "When in dout, selekt the werry simpletonest +spelling." + + R. + + * * * * * + +"IRISH PROSECUTIONS."--In the _Times_ of Friday last, under the +foregoing heading, that most contentious and sledge-hammering +correspondent, Lord BRAMWELL, came down heavily, very heavily, on the +unfortunate "American Lawyer," Mr. MUNDY, who had presumed to express +an opinion opposed to that of my Lord BRAMWELL. Of course, after this, +there's an end of the American Lawyer, and, at all events, up to +the date abovementioned, Lord BRAMWELL may say, triumphantly, "_Sic +transit gloria Mundy!_" + + * * * * * + +THE LETTER-BAG OF TOBY, M.P. + +FROM A YOUNG MAN STILL IN THE COUNTRY. + + _Eaton Hall, Saturday._ + +[Illustration:] + +DEAR TOBY,--I write to you from here where I stay a day or two on my +way to Dublin. I expect by the time it reaches you I will be installed +in the Chief Secretary's Lodge, and the National League may prepare to +sit up. I have been spending a week or two very agreeably in Scotland, +a little out of the way of letters or newspapers. I am told there has +been quite a demand for me, a sort of popular outcry that I should +forthwith proceed to Ireland. This is, of course, not unflattering. +It indicates a general belief which I, for one, am not disposed to +contest, that if Ireland is to be saved, I'm the man to do it. That's +all very well; but it is, doncha know, something of a boah to be thus +bothered at a time when one had two or three pleasant engagements on +hand. It used to be just the same in the House last Session. If I did +not really live there, entering with the Mace and the SPEAKER, and +leaving only at the cry of "Who goes home?" there were impetuous +protests. I put in KING-HARMAN at Question time, but they wouldn't +have him. Often, as I lay on the sofa in the Chief Secretary's room, +looking over _Punch_, or reading the proofs of the forthcoming new +edition of my _Defence of Philosophic Doubt_, I have heard the distant +growls of the Irish Members when KING-HARMAN rose to answer a question +addressed to me. Quite touching this personal attachment. At the same +time a little embarrassing. + +Now I am really going to Dublin, and shall spend a cheerful November +there. GRANDOLPH, in his genial way, has tried to make things pleasant +by reminding me that from the drawing-room window of the Chief +Secretary's Lodge I can see the place where poor FREDDY CAVENDISH +fell. "They're sure to take a pot shot at you," he says; "but you're +all right. Unless a man can make sure of hitting a lamp-post at +fifty paces, it will be no use his trying to bring you down." A nice +companionable man GRANDOLPH. Always tries to say something pleasant. +But really I don't pay much attention to his kindly apprehensions. I +shall be boahed, I daresay; but not by the passage of a bullet, or the +thrust of a knife. + +People evidently expect great things to follow on my arrival in +Dublin. To the accident of my holiday absence in Scotland they +attribute all the failures of the Executive. "If BALFOUR had been +there," they say, "W. O'BRIEN would now be comfortably in gaol and T. +D. S., Lord Mayor, would be laid by the heels." I weally don't +know. Fact is, I have not closely followed up affairs either in the +newspapers or despatches. There have been some rows, I understand. +But that is not unusual in Ireland. Where people are right in +kindly looking to me to restore peace and order in Ireland is in the +supposition that I have a plan. That is true, though I cannot claim +personal and private property in it. Fact is the plan is CROMWELL'S. +It worked admirably when originally put in practice, and I do not see +any reason why it should fail now. There are, of course, difficulties +in the way; prejudice to be overcome, legal forms to be dealt with, +and that sort of thing. There is also, next Session of Parliament to +be met, and awkward questions by TIM HEALY and the rest. But they +need not think to intimidate me by such reflections. I shall put +up KING-HARMAN to answer all inconvenient questions. Besides, it is +exceedingly probable that in the full development of my plan the Irish +Members who last Session distinguished themselves by "wanting to know" +will be unavoidably absent from their places. It is an awful nuisance +breaking in upon a man's holiday; but it is a difficulty that has to +be faced, and as there seems a popular inclination to look to me to +settle it, I suppose there is nothing to be done but to grapple with +it. + +One additional drawback from a quite unexpected source makes itself +known by correspondence with my colleagues. They are all in a dreadful +state of fussy alarm. My uncle the Markiss begs me to be careful. +"Firmness without Rashness" is an excellent copy-head, which W. H. +SMITH sends me in fine round-hand from the distant Mediterranean. I +wish they'd all mind their own affairs. In the intervals of my other +occupations I can answer for Ireland, and if any awkwardness arises, I +can put up KING-HARMAN to answer for me. So, dear TOBY, don't you +have any anxiety on my account. Some half-hour after dinner, with the +contemplative toothpick at hand, and my heels on the table, I will, if +the subject occurs to me, settle the Irish Question. + + Yours faithfully, + + ARTH-R B-LF-R. + + * * * * * + +BIG WORK AND LITTLE HANDS. + +That a child prodigy should have been able twice last week to fill St. +James's Hall to overflowing, may not perhaps speak at the first glance +very highly for the artistic instincts of the British Public, who, as +a thoughtful musical critic remarks in the pages of a contemporary, +are sometimes "more impressed by a little boy in an Eton jacket +than by the finest music that might be played in less exciting +circumstances;" still it cannot be denied that the couple of recitals +referred to, given by Master JOSEF HOFMANN, were altogether two +exceptionally brilliant performances. Commenting, however, on the +little fellow's efforts to give a good rendering of a slow movement, +the critic already alluded to asks how, in a long-drawn melody which +is a matter of passion and of feeling, "a child of eleven can have +much feeling or any passion?" Surely this is hypercriticism. Ask any +boy of eleven who has had a whipping, or has come off second best in a +fight with his little sister, whether he hasn't much feeling;--and as +for passion! Well: but, perhaps this is not exactly what the critic +means. Nevertheless, he proceeds rather pertinently to ask whether +this singularly gifted young artist will be suffered, "when he has +served the immediate purposes of those who have control over him, +to continue his studies in a rational manner and far from the +fierce light and the hot-house temperature pertaining to the concert +platform?" As Master JOSEF HOFMANN is already booked for an American +tour, there does not seem any prospect of this highly desirable +consummation, at least in the near future. Judging, therefore, from +little Master JOSEF'S present arrangements, one would be disposed to +apostrophise him sympathetically in the language of Dr. WATTS, and +say:-- + + "Night after night, you'll prove a sight + To draw the cute Yankee, + Because your little hands were made + To stretch from C to C!" + +Still, as he is an unquestionable genius who has a future before +him, it is to be hoped that he won't be "worked out" early at high +pressure, and stimulated by a success that will only blunt his powers +by depriving him of that desire for true progress in his art by which +alone they can be legitimately developed. "Not too much gaslight, some +practice, and plenty of battledore and shuttlecock," is the proper +_recipe_ for little Master JOSEF. With this he can't go wrong, and +will, without doubt, if he stick to it, command the musical world of +the future as surely as he has astonished that of to-day. + + * * * * * + +"NO MORE SEA-SICKNESS!" NO MORE "BAD QUARTERS-OF-AN-HOUR" IN CROSSING +THE CHANNEL! Try Mons. M. L. MAYER'S Remedy, to be provided on October +24 up to the middle of November, and probably longer, if all goes +well, at the Remedy Theatre--no--at the Royalty Theatre, where he +intends giving a season of French plays, and brings M. COQUELIN, Mmes. +CHAUMONT and JANE MAY,--not all at once but one at a time,--over to +afford amusement to those Londoners who can't afford amusement +in Paris, or who object to the sea-passage, or who cannot spare +sufficient time for the trip. M. COQUELIN has with him a fair-sized +bag of tricks which includes, among other things, _Don Cæsar de +Bazan_, and he means to devote three-fourths of one evening's +entertainment to monologues, among which, Mr. BEERBOHM TREE will be +delighted to hear, is announced _Gringoire_. M. MAYER, will of course, +see that his stars are well supported, and the public, delighted to +save the sea-voyage, will support M. MAYER. + + * * * * * + +SHOWS VIEWS. + +_By Victor Who-goes-Everywhere._ + +[Illustration] + +THE suggestion made a month ago by a "Salubrity Abroad," (now happily +a "Salubrity at home") that the above title would make a good heading +for an all-round-about theatrical and entertainment article in _Mr. +Punch's_ pages, is at length carried out. In the character of a hero +conquering difficulties, I have been here, there, and everywhere. My +first triumph was at the Gaiety Theatre, where (after surmounting all +obstruction) I secured a place from whence _Miss Esmeralda_ could be +watched in comfort. This piece is called a "melodramatic burlesque," +in two Acts, but I confess I failed to distinguish either the +melodrama or the burlesque. It was, however, well mounted with +good scenery and pretty dresses. It had further the advantage of an +excellent stage-manager in Mr. CHARLES HARRIS, and a no less excellent +dance inventor in Mr. JOHN D'AUBAN, but of the book the less that is +said the better. Frankly, it is not amusing. This being the case I +was not surprised to find the names of its authors printed in the +programme in a type just half the size accorded to the style and title +of "the producer." The acting calls for no particular comment. Mr. +LONNEN sings an Irish song excellently well, but is less diverting +when he trusts to attitudinising as a provocative to merriment. Miss +MARION HOOD'S charming face is sweeter than her voice, and Miss FANNIE +LESLIE'S singing is as welcome now as ever it was--it recalls many +a vocal triumph of the past. Mr. GEORGE STONE as _Gringoire_ is more +broadly comic than Mr. BEERBOHM TREE in a somewhat similar _rôle_ in +the _Ballad Monger_. Both the Misses BLANCHE are all that could be +desired in two subordinate characters. In the last Act there is a +"Pyramid Ballet,"--which is slightly perplexing. Until my attention +was pointedly called to the fact that I was watching a terpischorean +demonstration of a game of billiards, I was under the impression that +some of the intricacies of the plot of VICTOR HUGO'S _Notre Dame_ +were being very cleverly explained to me in easily followed dumb show. +Perhaps the best thing (barring the Irish song) in the whole piece +is an ingenious dance of Warders and Prisoners in Scene I., Act 2. In +alluding to the list of the company I should not have forgotten to +say that the names of that admirable comedian Mr. H. LESLIE and that +evergreen queen of burlesque, Miss E. FARREN, are conspicuous by +their absence. In spite of this very serious drawback, no doubt Miss +_Esmeralda_ will be as successful as it deserves to be. The scenery, +dresses, and music, are alone worth a visit. And when I say this I +leave out the acting, the singing and the dancing. + +I also went to the Royal Aquarium the other afternoon, and witnessed +the performances of a troupe of genuine Russian Wolves. If I _had_ to +appear in public myself with a company of performing animals, I think +I should prefer poodles, or white mice, though, as a spectacle, wolves +are undoubtedly more thrilling. I don't know that these particular +wolves did much; but the really striking fact, of course, was their +condescension in doing anything, and it was certainly "pretty to see" +them jumping a gate, and arranging themselves picturesquely on chairs, +with just sufficient display of grinning jaws to make the audience +congratulate themselves that the stage was fenced round by temporary +iron railings. The creatures are evidently deeply attached to the +Professor, who has so ably prepared them for public life. I was +convinced of this by the effusion with which one after another +advanced and kissed his forehead, on receiving a slight hint to that +effect from a whip. But to be kissed--however tenderly--by a wolf, +must be a creepy sensation. On the occasion when I was present we were +afforded an additional, and I may say an unrehearsed, sensation after +the act-drop fell. There was a scurry behind, a shout, and then--a +great jagged rent in the curtain. People in the front row of stalls +looked uncomfortable--it did seem very much as if one of the wolves +had determined to "take a call" on his own account, but it was merely +a little mishap with one of the railings. However, there was no real +cause for alarm in any case, for an audience would have had ample +time to escape while the wolf was amusing himself with the orchestra, +which, fortunately, is a remarkably good one. + +After the Wolves, by way of contrast, I paid a visit to La Belle +FATMA. On delivery of a shilling, I, with other members of the Public, +was passed in to a screened-off portion of the Imperial Theatre. A +stout French gentleman seated himself at a piano below the stage, and +the curtain rose presently, disclosing the fair FATMA and her troupe +seated in a row, like a new variety of Christy Minstrels. With regard +to the principal lady, I am bound to say that her charms did not seem +to me to have been at all overestimated, and her portraits upon the +posters actually do her less than justice. But this is a matter of +opinion; and I must confess that, after all, it was not upon the +peerless FATMA that my eyes were most riveted. There was a stout +old lady in a turban, two places from her--_such_ an old lady! with +immense black eyebrows, meeting over flashing dark eyes, and a massive +Oriental nose, a wide sternly compressed mouth, and three chins. Upon +her knees she held a gourd-shaped drum, which she smacked severely +at intervals; she might have sat for CORNELIA polishing one of her +"jewels"; and when she sang, the illusion was complete! + +As to the performance, it was Oriental; and no description can +convey much more. We had an Overture on the familiar "Rum-tum-tum, +tum-a-tum-tum-tum, tum-a-tum" theme, which revealed considerable +"staying power" on both sides of the footlights. Then one member of +the _troupe_ after another advanced, and, if a lady, _chassé_'d and +revolved with slowly waving arms, and an expression that seemed to +imply that she would take more pains if it were only worth while; if +a man, he capered and grinned and shouted in a manner which, at all +events, infinitely amused the performer himself. While this was going +on, the old lady continued to "spank"--there really is no better term +for it--her drum in a sort of grim _rêverie_, and a young person +by her side emitted piercing shrieks by way of enlivening the +proceedings. There was a mysterious One on the stage, who reminded me +of an immense dice-box muffled in muslin; this, it turned out, was the +COLOSSUS of SOUSSE, to whom was entrusted the function of "presenting" +Mademoiselle FATMA at the close of the performance. This seemed +superfluous, particularly as the excellent Colossus had no notion of +doing more than taking her by the hand and stalking two paces forward. +It was all over in a quarter of an hour or so; and, for my own part, I +considered the old lady in the turban alone worth the paltry shilling +charged for admission. + +I have also been to TERRY'S Theatre, where great precautions are taken +to prevent fire. Everything, more or less, is labelled "Exit," and, +instead of doors, in several parts of the house there are curtains. +On the whole it must be a good theatre to escape from. This is worth +noting, if the performances are wearisome. + + * * * * * + +BALLADE OF THE TIMID BARD. + +(_To Angelica, who bids him publish._) + + In Memory's mystical hazes + I see a vast Gander and grey, + I see the small boy that he chases + At the head of a hissing array: + How I wept when they brought me to bay, + How I pleaded in vain for a truce! + Too frightened to shoo them away, + I could never say Boh to a Goose! + + I have lived through a number of phases, + I have rhymed of the grave and the gay, + But the clatter of critical phrases, + But the moralist armed for the fray, + I have fled in unseemly dismay, + Since the Gander--'tis all my excuse-- + For, in brief, since that terrible day-- + I could never say Boh to a Goose! + + It was fabled of old that in places + Grow goose-bearing trees by the way, + Where bough within bough interlaces + Green geese flutter down from the spray; + In reviews, at first nights of the play, + These shrubs are in general use, + And I would not encounter them, nay, + I could _never_ say Boh to a Goose! + +_Envoy._ + + ANGELICA! bid me essay + The deeds of a WALLACE or BRUCE, + But talk not of _publishing_, pray-- + I could never say Boh to a Goose! + + * * * * * + +IRISH APPOINTMENT EXTRAORDINARY (_subject to the kind permission +of Sir Bernard Burke, C.B., LL.D._).--The Right Hon. JOSEPH +O'CHAMBERLAIN, M.P., to be Ulster-King-of-Arms. + + * * * * * + +NOTE BY AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS, AFTER THE GRANTING OF THE LICENCE TO +THE EMPIRE THEATRE.--"_L'Empire c'est la_ pay 46 per cent.--like the +Alhambra." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID. + +_Professor Chatterleigh._ "BY GEORGE! I'M SO HUNGRY I CAN'T _TALK!_" + +_Fair Hostess (on hospitable thoughts intent)._ "OH, I'M _SO_ GLAD!"] + + * * * * * + +THE MESSENGER OF PEACE. + +(_With apologies to the Shade of the Author of "Al Aarof."_) + + [I have read ... that I have come to Ulster to revive + religious bigotry, to rekindle the embers of party strife, + and to revive ancient feuds which are now in a fair way to + be forgotten. I can assure you that these are not the objects + which I propose to myself. (_Laughter._)--_Report of Mr. + Chamberlain's Speech in Belfast._] + +_Erin's Guardian Angel sings_:-- + + I came (by the steamer) + A cross the wild spray. + No bigot, no dreamer, + To moon time away. + BRIGHT lingers to ponder, + And make tart replies; + But I come, from yonder, + Drawn down from the skies. + With love I am laden, + Peace sits on my brow. + No, sweet Ulster maiden, + My game is _not_ row! + Arise! from your dreaming, + In bright Orange bowers, + To duties beseeming, + Your fame and past powers. + My presence expresses + My fondness for you; + (My game no one guesses, + They read it askew) + Oh, how without you, love, + Can Ireland be blest? + _You_'re loyal, _you_'re true, love, + Mad traitors the rest. + I shake from my wing + Each hindering thing. + The black Parnellite + Would weigh down my flight. + The G. O. M.'s messes, + I leave them apart, + His lures and his jesses, + His tricks and his art. + + W. G.! W. G.! Ah! + My old artful one, + You had an idea + With you I should run. + No! it is my will + On the breezes to toss + At caprice, or be still + Like a lone albatross. + Daring duckling? That's past! + Stormy petrel? That's flown! + I'm a halcyon at last, + A new _rôle_,--and my own! + + W. G. Ah! Whoever + Thine "items" may be, + For ever I sever + My fortunes from thee. + Thou hast bound many eyes + In sophistical sleep, + But the angel that flies + Will _thy_ vigilance keep? + O Walker! (Again + A rhetorical flower + From thy full-teeming brain!) + I have passed a brief hour + In those same cipherings + Which you fudge--let that pass! + But my own view of things + Is not modell'd, alas! + On _yours_--none of the clearest-- + But then, that's your way-- + 'Tis one of the queerest; + _Do_ you find it pay? + Ah! love moved the smiles + That beamed forth on my rest + On the greenest of Isles. + Its _Scotch_ natives are best, + For they have in their keeping + Its wealth and its trade, + And Sedition, unsleeping, + Has spoilt, I'm afraid, + The true Pat of the Island. + _He_ burns to be free, + His bosom holds guile, and + His bonnet a bee. + Go to! Let them slumber, + The Home-Ruling lot + Are not the huge number + They tell us--that's rot! + I came to awaken, + An Angel of Peace! + I'm bound to be taken + For such ere I cease. + PARNELL'S spell makes PAT slumber, + Its witchery is test, + And your Orange-host's number + Must manage the rest! + + * * * * * + +A PROTEST. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--Will you please ask the _Times_ not to allow such +unpleasant subjects to be introduced into its columns as there was +last Wednesday,--that is, judging by the heading on page 8, "The Birch +and the Primitive Seat," which of course none of us fellows read (one +line of it was enough for me), and if there is another of the sort, we +shall vote that the _Times_ isn't taken in here in future, and I don't +think the _Times_ would like that. A word from you will be sufficient, +I am sure. + + Your Constant Reader, + + UPPER LOWER MIDDLETON. + + _Eton College, Bucks, near Windsor, England._ + + * * * * * + +Mrs. RAM says she couldn't stop in an out-of-the-way country-place, +give up society, and live like a Helmet in the desert. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE MESSENGER OF PEACE.] + + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: BRITISH FRENCH. + +_Emily._ "ASK HER TO GIVE US SOME MORE OF HER _SACRED_ MUSIC, GEORGE!" + +_George (a linguist)._ "OH, MADEMOISELLE, DONNEZ-NOUS ENCORE DE VOTRE +SACRÉE MUSIQUE."] + + * * * * * + +JOE'S JAUNT. + +_Off to Ireland!_--At last. COLLINGS with me, of course:--rather +grumpy, because SALISBURY'S got the credit of passing the Allotments +Bill, instead of himself. Still, JESSE better than nobody. Would +create bad impression to visit Belfast without an _entourage_. + +_In Steamer._--Look up my Irish History--or rather, JESSE'S Irish +History, which he's borrowed from Birmingham Free Library. An Alderman +_can_ do that sort of thing. Also examine revolver. Not accustomed to +carrying one. What is the best place for it? JESSE says, "left-hand +coat-tail pocket, decidedly, because then you can whip it out in +a twinkling." JESSE'S confidence contagious--he talks as if he +had always been in the habit of "whipping-out" revolvers, like a +cow-boy,--or a "three-acres-and-a-cow-boy." Do as he advises. +Very uncomfortable feeling. Sit down on revolver in a moment of +forgetfulness, and nearly blow Captain's head off. Captain irritated. +Asks me for "ransom." Ridiculous! + +_Belfast._--No end of a reception. Drive through the principal +streets. Enthusiastic populace insist on taking horses out of carriage +and pulling it themselves. Gratifying, but should feel safer with the +horses. Why _will_ COLLINGS bow? I'm the person to bow, obviously. +Bad taste, but don't like to stop him. Believe the mob _take_ him for +me--or why do they cheer him so? + +_At Hotel._--Just found out reason of enthusiasm evoked by appearance +of JESSE. _He's got on an Orange tie!_ Ask him, reproachfully, why +he did this? Pretends it was a mere accident--forgot that orange was +favourite Ulster colour. Don't want a religious riot, so make him take +it off. JESSE getting grumpier. Can't help it. + +_Evening._--Before going to meeting, had better find out what +Belfast chiefly famous for. Ask COLLINGS. Replies "linen-shirts and +handkerchiefs." Try to put him in good humour by remarking that "_he_ +seems shirty." Is there no other historical fact connected with place? +"Yes," he replies, "visit of Lord RANDOLPH CHURCHILL." Wish he hadn't +mentioned latter event. Dispiriting. Reminds one of proposed National +Party, with self and RANDOLPH as sole leaders--and sole followers, +too, it seems. + +_At Hotel--after Speech._--Great success. Felt horribly inclined to +start another Home Rule plan--my fifth--but fortunately refrained. +Instead of dismemberment of Empire, I offered more Members to Ulster. +Ulster people saw the justice of this arrangement at once. Told 'em +there were "two Irelands." Isn't one Ireland enough, however? + +_Coleraine._--A triumphal arch, with "Welcome to English Peasant +Emancipators" on it. Stupid to bracket COLLINGS with me in this way. +Receive threatening letter. Reminds me of my revolver. JESSE examines +it with the air of a professional gunsmith, critically. Appears quite +hurt at its condition; says, "I've sat on it so often he doubts if it +would go off now," and recommends my carrying a "bowie-knife" instead. +Am surprised at JESSE'S acquaintance with deadly weapons. Ask him what +historical event took place at Coleraine. Says he doesn't know and +doesn't care. But what's he here for except to keep me posted up in +local details? Hint to him that "I hope I may be able to offer him +post of President of Local Government Board in my future Ministry." +Replies (rudely, I think) that "he'll wait till I'm asked to form +one." _Query_--doesn't air of Ulster exercise demoralising effect on +English politicians? Is this the "Ulster Custom" one's heard so much +about? RANDOLPH a case in point. + +_Back again._--Coleraine speech excellent, though I say it, as +shouldn't. Cheered to the echo. So was JESSE, hang him! Shan't take +_him_ to Canada with me. Now for a study of the habits of deep-sea +fish in the pages of a Natural Science Primer. + + * * * * * + +AN AUTUMN LAY. + +(_By a Belated Oarsman._) + + Come, little Maid, to the cracked piano, + The semi-grand in the coffee-room; + We'll take your harmonies all _cum grano_, + For the strings vibrate like the crack of doom. + Over the lawn the flat clouds loom, + And when they lighten the rain falls faster; + Like gossips who relish a friend's disaster + The ducks quack loud in the rain-ruled gloom. + + I've studied the cracks in the ceiling-plaster, + And the statuettes with their stolid leer, + And the landscape visions of some Young Master, + Who viewed the world through a haze of beer. + We've done as much with the hostel's cheer + As sane men may _in corpore sano_; + So come, little Maid, to the cracked piano. + Play us "_The Battle of Prague_," my dear. + + The silence clouds, like a potion shaken, + As the limp strings jar to an ancient pain; + Their light and sweetness no touch can waken, + And only the dregs of a tone remain. + The silk-sewn music with fray and stain + Swoons on the keys at the urgent stages, + And the little Maid, as she props the pages, + Just murmurs, "Bother!" and starts again. + + And the streaming window again engages + The thoughts that stray from the field of Prague; + And the moping birds in their gauze-girt cages, + And the wax-work fruits of a genus vague; + And the flies that buzz like a lazy plague + Round the lone lorn jam, as it stands forsaken; + And the varnished pike in the mill-pool taken + About the year that they fought at Prague. + + But twilight falls, and its folds encumber + The misty mounds of the patient trees, + And sunset cheers with a touch of umber + The puddles of steel-gray Gruyère cheese. + And, interposing a little ease, + Our frail thoughts dally with false surmises + Of a morning as brilliant as mid July's is + With bravest sunshine and sweetest breeze. + + A soothing silence the soul surprises, + For the little Maid, like a hero true, + Has fought her fight through its poignant crises, + And shown what practice can dare and do. + And, tearing the moonlight in handfuls through, + A giant arm in the cloudland sombre + Scatters the light on a world of slumber, + Through snowy craters, from gulfs of blue. + + * * * * * + +BOGEY IN BOND STREET. + +(_A Legend of the Grosvenor Gallery._) + +[Illustration] + +The Spirit of Art glided through the streets of Modern London, seeking +a resting-place. She entered the Diploma Gallery of the Royal Academy, +but hurried away, affrighted at some of the terrible examples of the +illustrious Forty. + +"And these are the greatest English painters!" she murmured--"the +countrymen of SHAKSPEARE, MILTON, and ADDISON, TENNYSON, MACAULAY, and +DICKENS! How is it that Painting cannot keep pace with Literature?" + +It sounded like a Conundrum, and the Spirit of Art was not good +at Conundrums. So she gave it up. Then she passed into other +Exhibitions--there were quite a dozen in the neighbourhood at the +very least. But she was unsatisfied, and came away. She paused, and +considered. The Spirit of Art had one great English friend (of Irish +extraction), who was a Musician. + +"ARTHUR is a clever fellow," said the Spirit of Art to herself--there +was no one else to speak to--"and if he _does_ compose more comic +Operas than Oratorios, it is, I suppose, because there is a greater +demand for the former than the latter." + +From this it will be seen the Spirit of Art had, on the whole, a +good head for business. "Now," continued the Representative of the +Beautiful, "I distinctly recollect that the words to one of the songs +of my friend ARTHUR contained a pointed reference to the Greenery +Yallery Gallery. I fancy, from all I have heard, that the sort of +thing I want will be found in the Greenery Yallery Gallery." + +She was quite pleased at the notion. To tell the truth the Spirit of +Art was rather weary of perambulating the streets of London--not even +the advertisements of BUFFALO BILL on the hoardings gave her lasting +satisfaction. + +"Let me consider," she said, as she hovered on the threshold of the +Grosvenor Gallery, "now I shall find myself amongst the grandest works +of Mister JONES. I am never tired of that pale face with the pointed +chin--no more is Mister JONES. This frequently-reproduced portrait of +a lady is most interesting. No doubt it is a study of a chronic case +of dyspepsia that must have lasted for twenty years. Then I shall see +the choicest works of MORE and MILLAIS, and WATTS, and oh, joy! of Sir +COUTTS-LINDSAY! This is indeed the very spot for a resting-place." + +So the Spirit of Art glided up the staircase and into the Grosvenor +Gallery. For a moment she was puzzled. There was no dyspeptic +lady--"no greenery" and very little "yallery." Then she shivered, +for on all sides she found immense pictures of battles and executions +ghastly beyond description. + +"Why, what are these?" she gasped. "What are these?" + +"Catalogue, Miss?" replied a civil attendant. "Thank you, +Miss,--sixpence." + +And then the Spirit of Art read that such and such a picture +represented a dreadful defeat, that a pestilent hospital, yonder one a +scene of torture. She found representations of war treated in the most +prosaic and unbeautiful form. + +She was horrified and fainted! + +Then the vision, before her became more and more terrible and the +entire contents of the Catalogue was unfolded before her. Dying +soldiers defying vultures, mutilated Russians lying in an open grave, +old men being blown from the guns! Wounds, and fire, and blood! + + *** + +When she came to herself she hurried away. She thought it out. + +"I must gradually accustom myself to less horrible things," she +whispered. "I will begin at once. If I were not to do this by degrees, +I should go mad!" She called a hansom. + +"Where to, Miss?" + +"To the Marylebone Road," cried the Spirit of Art--in these days the +Spirit is a very self-assertive young person, and not at all like an +unprotected female--"Baker Street Station, Marylebone Road." + +Then she threw away her Catalogue. + +"I must see something less repulsive than this--I must gradually +resume my normal condition. Something less repulsive! I have it! I +will begin with the figures of Madame TUSSAUD'S--in the Chamber of +Horrors!" + + * * * * * + +CHAIRS TO MEND. + +Congregation at Oxford, having (in an empty House), for the sake +of economy, turned the old Professorship of Anglo-Saxon into one of +English Literature, and having, with a view to utilising its salary, +entirely suppressed the chair of Poetry, it is rumoured that the +Hebdomadal Council have already in contemplation a sweeping list of +curtailments in the same direction. + +The Professorships of Arabic, Archæology, Astronomy, Botany, Celtic, +Chemistry, and Chinese, will, it is said, also be rolled into one. + +It is hoped that, by some spirited reforms in the direction indicated +above, the University that, from the fashion in which it has dealt +with the Chair of Poetry, appears indeed to be out at elbows, may +survive the financial crisis in which it is evidently involved. + + * * * * * + +CHANNEL TALK. + +_Arranged for the use of the returning British Passenger at +Breakfast-time. By a very Dyspeptic Contributor._ + +It is a glorious thing to think that one is leaving France and all +foreign kickshaws behind one, and is once more approaching dear honest +old England on the deck of a British steamer. + +But let us come into the cabin and have a bit of breakfast before we +get in. + +Surely that table covered with a dirty sheet instead of a tablecloth +is not prepared for our repast? + +Why, this stale loaf must have been on board quite a week. + +It has evidently made several passages backwards and forwards in +company with this extremely remarkable sample of butter. + +Why does this coffee the Steward has just brought us look like ink and +sawdust, and taste like something perplexing? + +The Frenchman, who has been expecting _déjeuner à la fourchette_, is +surveying with astonishment the dish of mutton-chops they have set +down before him. + +It is a great pity that they are all two inches thick, and are +underdone when cut. + +I wonder whether he is thinking, as I am, of the clean, fresh, and +trim _restaurant_ table, the excellent _café au laít, petits-pains_, +Normandy butter, and other "foreign kickshaws," that he has just left +behind him in France. + +Though he has had to pay three shillings for his hot breakfast, he has +informed me that he will wait till he arrives, and take "_le lunch_" +on shore. + +I wonder whether he is aware that, if he makes this meal at the +typical Refreshment-Room, he will have to content himself with stale +sponge-cakes, the day-before-yesterday's buns, and small tins of +lemon-drops. + +But let us get out of the Cabin. I certainly prefer the deck of an +excellent steamer to the arrangements made for providing one with +breakfast down below. + + * * * * * + +A QUESTION OF POLICE. + + "The rapid increase both of buildings and population which has + taken place in the Metropolitan Police district of late years + has outrun the increase which it has been possible to make + to the Police Force."--_Sir Charles Warren, in his Official + Reports, 1885, 1886._ + + "The average applications for admission to the Metropolitan + Police Force now amount to one hundred per diem." _Statistics, + October, 1887._ + +[Illustration: _Sergeant Punch (inspecting would-be ex-Unemployed)._ +"SO, MY LAD, YOU WANT TO BE A CONSTABLE! RATHER ENFORCE THE LAW THAN +BREAK IT, EH? THAT'S RIGHT! HEM! THE FORCE HAS LONG BEEN UNDERMANNED. +WE MUST SEE IF WE CAN'T MAKE ROOM FOR YOU!"] + + * * * * * + +NE PLUS ULSTER.--Mr. CHAMBERLAIN seems to find the heart of the Irish +Question in Ulster. Does he expect to find its solution there? He +appears to set little store by the wishes of those not inconsiderable +portions of Ireland which, as he says, "do not form a portion of the +Ulster plantation." All other parts, even of the favoured province, +"though geographically part of Ulster, are not parts of what we know +as political Ulster." This certainly narrows the Irish Question. But +does it simplify it? We have all heard of those who are "more Irish +than the Irishmen themselves." Mr. CHAMBERLAIN seems to be more +Ulsterish than the men of Ulster, though they, to be sure, on his own +showing, are virtually English and Scotch. In declining to look beyond +Ulster, it may be asked whether he looks into the Irish Question at +all. Altogether Irish--very! + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +_The Danvers Jewels_, published by RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON, and +written by an anonymous author who dedicates the work to his sister +"DI," (from whom he received some assistance in the story, otherwise +he would "never have said 'DI,'") is a short and well-told sensational +novelette in a shilling volume. There is a genuine vein of humour +running through it, which is so artistically managed as at first to +escape the reader's attention, who becoming more and more irritated +with the stupidity of the supposed narrator, gradually discovers that +the story which is being recounted by a middle-aged Indian Colonel, +who prides himself on being remarkably astute, and on possessing a +perfectly marvellous insight into character, is being recounted by a +conceited, shallow-pated old ass. I think it a fault that at the +very last, by some such accident as being in an assize town and being +invited to sit on the bench, he does not see the villain thoroughly +unmasked, placed in the dock, and condemned to death, or at least +penal servitude for life. The story, excellent as it is, seems to +me to want this finish. By the way, why, for no conceivable purpose, +quote on the title-page a line from the Old Testament which, as every +one remembering its context and after reading the book must see, has +no apparent bearing on the subject? Mistake this. + +[Illustration: A work by "Q."] + +_Deadman's Rock._ By "Q." Have Messrs. LOUIS STEVENSON and RIDER +HAGGARD combined under the signature of "Q." to write at all events +the first part of the weird and exciting Romance entitled _Deadman's +Rock_? If not let those two authors look to their laurels. There +is much in this book to remind the reader of _Treasure Island_, +especially the fiendish Sailor's uncouth chaunt, "Sing hey for the +deadman's eyes, my lads," which, however, is not a patch upon Mr. +STEVENSON'S "Ho! Ho! Ho! and a bottle of rum," in _Treasure Island_. +Then there is one line in "Q.'s" story, "And here a strange thing +happened," which must call to mind Mr. RIDER HAGGARD'S patent of "and +now a strange thing happened." "Q."--rious coincidence, isn't it? But +a "coincidence" is not likely to annoy Mr. HAGGARD. + +In the first part the most impatient reader will find that he cannot +afford to skip a couple of lines without detriment to the narrative, +but in the second part he may skip handfuls, as the lovemaking is +common-place, and time is wasted over the tragedy which is written by +one of the heroes, and over the description of their life in London. +But on the other hand the scene in the gambling-house is exciting +and artistically worked up,--and coming immediately after this, the +lovemaking is uncommonly tame,--and the scene at the Theatre is also +very good, but after this there is a lull in the excitement until +the end approaches, when there is one very strong situation. But the +actual finish is weak. So the summing up is that the first part is +first-rate, and the second part is, on the whole, second-rate. But who +is "Q."? + +That is the Q. and what is the A.? _Deadman's Rock_ is not a good book +for very nervous persons or children: for the latter _Almond Rock_ +would be far preferable. + + * * * * * + +THE MUSE IN MANACLES. + +(_By an Envious and Irritable Bard, after reading "Ballades and +Rondeaus," just published, and wishing he could do anything like any +of them._) + + Bored by the Ballade, vexed by Villanelle, + Of Rondeau tired, and Triolet as well! + +THE BALLADE. + +(_In Bad Weather._) + + Oh! I'm in a terrible plight-- + For how can I rhyme in the rain? + 'Tis pouring from morn until night: + So bad is the weather again, + My language is almost profane! + Though shod with the useful galosh, + I'm racked with rheumatical pain-- + I think that a Ballade is bosh! + + I know I am looking a fright; + That knowledge, I know, is in vain; + My "brolly" is not water-tight, + But hopelessly rended in twain + And spoilt by the rude hurri_cane_! + Though clad in a stout mackintosh, + My temper I scarce can restrain-- + I think that a Ballade is bosh! + + Oh, I'm an unfortunate wight! + The damp is affecting my brain; + My woes I would gladly recite, + In phrases emphatic and plain, + Your sympathy could I obtain. + I don't think my verses will wash, + They're somewhat effete and inane-- + I think that a Ballade is bosh! + +ENVOY. + + I fancy I'm getting insane, + I'm over my ankles in slosh; + But let me repeat the refrain-- + I think that a Ballade is bosh! + +THE VILLANELLE. + +(_With Vexation._) + + I do not like the Villanelle, + I think it somewhat of a bore-- + This tinkle of a Muffin-bell! + + The reason why I cannot tell; + Each day I fancy, more and more, + I do not like the Villanelle! + + It makes me stamp and storm and yell, + It makes me wildly rage and roar: + This tinkle of a Muffin-bell! + + I look upon it as a sell, + Its use I constantly deplore; + I do not like the Villanelle! + + Poetic thoughts it must dispel, + It very often tries me sore: + This tinkle of a Muffin-bell! + + For this I know, and know full well-- + Let me repeat it o'er and o'er!-- + I do not like the Villanelle, + This tinkle of a Muffin-bell! + +THE TRIOLET. + +(_In a Temper._) + + A triolet's scarcely the thing-- + Unless you would carol in fetters! + If lark-like you freely would sing, + A Triolet's scarcely the thing: + I miss the poetical ring, + I'm told that it has, by my betters! + A Triolet's scarcely the thing-- + Unless you would carol in fetters! + +THE RONDEAU. + +(_In a Rage._) + + Pray tell me why we can't agree + To bid the merry Muse run free? + Pray tell me why we should incline + To see her in a Rondeau pine, + Or sigh in shackled minstrelsy? + Why can't she sing with lark-like glee, + And revel in bright _jeux d'esprit_? + Where form can't fetter or confine-- + Pray tell me why? + + Pray tell me why that frisky gee, + Called Pegasus, should harnessed be? + Why bit and bridle should combine + To all his liveliness consign,-- + To deck the Rondeau's narrow line-- + Pray tell me why? + + * * * * * + +BAD NEWS FOR TEA-DRINKERS. + +[Illustration: A Simple Clearance under Protest.] + +We learn from a report of the proceedings of the City Commissioners of +Sewers last week, that those vigilant protectors of the health of our +ancient City had before them a case that fairly puzzled them, and in +its strangeness and difficulty would probably have puzzled even a more +judicial body than they probably pretend to be. It would seem that +they had received a note of warning from the eminent firm of FRANCIS +PEEK & CO., that a large parcel of tea was about to be submitted +to public auction which was "simple filth," and utterly unfit for +consumption. + +A Commissioner stated that he was present at the Sale that morning, +and that the whole quantity, consisting of 1000 Chests, had been +sold, duty paid (it must have been cleared at the Custom House with or +without protest), at one halfpenny per pound! The natural expectation +was that the "simple filth" as it had been termed by experts, would +be at once seized by the officials and destroyed, but this strange +difficulty arose. The Medical Officer of Health stated that he had +analyzed a sample of the tea in question, and could not swear before a +Magistrate that it was unfit for use! He stated too, as a specimen +of the wisdom of our legislators, that, by Act of Parliament, Tea +was specially exempted from the operations of Public Analysts! So the +willing Commissioners found themselves powerless to act, but referred +the whole matter to their Sanitary Committee, who, we understand, will +at their next meeting take tea, instead of luncheon, made from the +remains of the sample, and report the result. + +In the meantime _Mr. Punch_, ever ready to assist in a good cause, +dispatched one of his City young men to make further inquiries, who +reported that he had visited the Auction Mart on three successive days +at lunch-time, and had asked one or two of the sharpest-looking of the +crowd, as possible purchasers of the wondrous tea, to lunch with him, +which they had willingly done; but, although he says he lunched them +copiously, they one and all denied any knowledge of the tea sale in +question. + + * * * * * + +"SHEPHERD _V._ KEEVIL."--_Mem_; Christian maxim for a Pastor or +Shepherd, "Do not think eevil of your neighbour." + + * * * * * + +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. + + * * * * * + + + + +Transcriber's Notes + +On page 181, "influenced" was missing the letter "d", and on page 183, +"enliten" was missing its first "e". These have been corrected. + +On page 185, "Gringore" was changed to "Gringoire" for consistency. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +93., October 22, 1887, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 37078-8.txt or 37078-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/0/7/37078/ + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer, +Nigel Blower and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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. 93., October 22, 1887 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: August 14, 2011 [EBook #37078] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer, +Nigel Blower and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1>PUNCH,<br /> + OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + + <h2>Vol. 93.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + + <h2>October 22nd, 1887.</h2> + <hr class="full" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page181" id="page181"></a>[pg 181]</span></p> + +<h2>MR. PUNCH’S MANUAL FOR YOUNG RECITERS.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:25%;"><a href="images/181.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/181.png" alt="" /></a></div> + +<p>As has been observed earlier in this series, the Amateur Reciter is influenced +by a natural ambition to harrow his audience to the best of his ability.</p> + +<p>And, be it said, the average audience is +not at all averse to being harrowed—provided +this is done with any science and refinement. +When persons are met together +for social enjoyment, nothing apparently +affords them keener pleasure than a performance +which produces certain peculiar +sensations, such as the feeling of partial +want of control over the facial nerves, +smarting behind the eyes, increasing obstruction +in the throat, and a general conviction +that, unless something occurs to +make them laugh at once, they will be +irresistibly compelled to sob like so many +seals. It is, perhaps, a little odd—but the +taste exists, and must be taken into account. +The sole drawbacks are that, too often, the +means adopted to secure the desired result +depend more than should be upon sentiment +which might almost be described as false; +that the incidents occasionally have too little +relation to real life; and that, what might +have proved eminently touching, is marred +by some involuntary association with the +ludicrous and grotesque. In his anxiety +to preserve his pupils from such pitfalls as these, <i>Mr. Punch</i> offers an +example in which the blemishes he has hinted at have been sedulously +avoided. It is at once homely, wholesome, and tear-compelling—like the common +onion. You will find you produce a favourable impression at once by announcing +it as,—</p> + +<h3><span class="sc">Positively the Last Performance!</span></h3> + +<p>(<i>You must come on with a general suggestion in your manner that you are +supposed to be the proprietor of an itinerant Cat and Canary Troupe. +Begin with a slow and somewhat depressed shake of the head, as if in +answer to imaginary inquirer.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>No, we ain’t performin’ to-day, Sir, and the boys are all on the gape</p> +<p>At seem’ the mice in mournin’, and the cats in chokers o’ crape;</p> +<p>But I’m giving the Show a rest, d’ye see? for I didn’t feel up to the job,</p> +<p>(<i>Pause—then subdued</i>) For my leadin’ comejian’s left me, Sir—</p> +<p>(<i>Explanatory, perceiving you are not understood</i>)—the +brindle kinairy—(<i>more impatiently</i>) Bob!</p> +<p>What, ye don’t remember? (<i>Surprise.</i>) Not him as wore the toonic o’ Turkey red?</p> +<p>What rode in a gilded kerridge with a ’at an’ plumes on his ’ed?</p> +<p>And, as soon as we’d taken a tanner, ’ud fire a saloot from the gun? +<span class="stage">[<i>Excitedly.</i></span></p> +<p>There was Talent inside o’ that bird, there was, or I never see it in one!</p> +<p>(<i>Philosophic bitterness.</i>) Well, he’s soon forgot—but I’ve often thought as a</p> +<p><i>fish</i> keeps longer than Fame!</p> +<p>(<i>Sudden comprehension and restored cordiality.</i>) Oh, ye didn’t +know him as <i>Bob</i>?... I see—no, that were his <i>private</i> name.</p> +<p>I used to announce him in public on a more long-winded-er scale—</p> +<p>I christened him “Gineral Moultky,” (<i>apologetically</i>) +which he <i>’ad</i> rather gone at the tail;</p> +<p>And a bird more popilar never performed on a peripathetic stage,</p> +<p>He was allers sure of a round of applause as soon as he quitted the cage!</p> +<p>For he thoroughly hentered into the part he was down for to play,</p> +<p>And he never got “fluffy” nor “queered the pitch,”—leastwise, till the hother day.</p> +<p>I thought he’d bin hoverexertin’ hisself, and ’ud better be out of the bill,</p> +<p>But it wasn’t till yesterday hevenin I’d any ideer he was <i>ill</i>!</p> +<p>Then I see he was rough on the top of his ’ed, and his tongue looked dry at the tip,</p> +<p>And it dawned on me like a thunderbolt—“Great Evings!” +I groaned,—“<span class="sc">the Pip!</span>” +(<i>Pause here, to emphasise the tremendous gravity of this discovery.</i>)</p> +<p>Well, I <i>’ad</i> bin trainin’ a siskin to hunderstudy the part, +(<i>more ordinary tone for this</i>)</p> +<p>And I sent him on—(<i>tolerantly</i>)—which he done his best, but +he ’adn’t no notion o’ <i>Hart</i>!</p> +<p>So I left the pitch as soon as I could, and (meanin’ to make more ’aste)</p> +<p>I cut across one o’ them buildin’ sites as was left a runnin’ to waste.</p> +<p>There was yawning pits by the flinty road, as rendered the prospeck dull,</p> +<p>And ’ere and there a winderless ’ouse, with the look of a grinning skull,</p> +<p>(<i>Try to paint this scene visibly for the audience; background is essential for what is to come.</i>)</p> +<p>A storm had bin ’anging about all day (and it <i>broke</i>, you’ll remember, at last!)</p> +<p>So I ’urried on, it was gettin’ late—and the Gineral sinking fast!</p> +<p>(<i>You are now approaching the harrowing part, but keep yourself in reserve for the present.</i>)</p> +<p>But all on a sudding I ’eard him give a kind of a feeble flap,</p> +<p>And I stops, and sez in a ’opeful way, “Why, you’re up in yer sterrups, old chap.”</p> +<p>(<i>A bold metapher applied to a bird, but characteristic in the speaker.</i>)</p> +<p>(<i>Sink your voice.</i>) Then I see by the look of his sorrowful eye he was thinkin’: “Afore I go,</p> +<p>I’d like to see one performance—for the last—of the dear old Show!”</p> +<p>(<i>Note, and make your audience feel, the touch of Nature here.</i>)</p> +<p>And I sez, with a ketch in my voice, “You <i>shall</i>!” and I whipped the sheet off the board,</p> +<p>I stuck up the pair o’ trestles, and fastened the tightrope cord;</p> +<p>Then I propped the Gineral up in a place from which he could see the ’ole,</p> +<p>And I set the tabbies a-sparring, and the mice a-climbing the pole.</p> +<p>(<i>Build up the whole scene gradually; the dreary neighbourhood, +the total absence of bystanders, the lurid +threatening sky, and the humble entertainment proceeding +in the foreground.</i>)</p> +<p>I put my company through their tricks—and they made my hold eyes dim,</p> +<p>For they never performed for no orjence like they did last night for <i>him</i>!</p> +<p>Them tabbies sparred with a science you’d ’ardly expect from sich,</p> +<p>And the mouse (what usually boggles) fetched flags with never no ’itch!</p> +<p>Aye, we worked the Show in that lonely place to the sound o’ the mutterin’ storm,</p> +<p>Right through till we come to the finish—the part <i>he</i> used to perform.</p> +<p>He was out of the cage in a minnit—egged on by puffessional pride,</p> +<p>He pecked that incompitent siskin till he made him stand o’ one side!</p> +<p>Well, I felt like ’aving a good cry <i>then</i>—but the time</p> +<p>’adn’t come for that,</p> +<p>So I slipped his uniform over his ’ed, and tied on his little cock-hat. +<span class="stage">[<i>With great tenderness.</i></span></p> +<p>And he set in his tiny kerridge, and was drored along by the mice,</p> +<p>A-looking that ’appy and pleased with hisself, I got ’em to do it twice! +<span class="stage">[<i>Tone of affectionate retrospection.</i></span></p> +<p>The very tabbies they gazed on him then with their heyes dilatin’ in haw,</p> +<p>As he ’obbled along to the cannon, with the match in his wasted claw!</p> +<p>I never ’eard that cannon afore give sech a tremenjious pop—</p> +<p>(<i>Solemnly.</i>) And a peal o’ thunder responded, as seemed all over the shop!</p> +<p>For a second Bob stood in the lightning, so noble, and bold, and big;—</p> +<p>Then ... a stagger ... a flutter ... a broken chirp— +(<i>you can add immensely to the effect here by a little +appropriate action. Pause, and give time for a +solemn hush to fall upon the audience, then, with a +forced calm, as if you were doing violence to your +own feelings</i>)—he was orf, Sir,—(<i>a slight gulp</i>)—he’d +’opped the twig!</p> +<p>(<i>Second Pause: then more briskly, but still with strong +emotion to the close</i>)</p> +<p>So now you’ve the hexplanation of the crape round the tabbies’ necks,</p> +<p>And kin understand why we close to-day “in token of our respecks.”</p> + </div></div> + +<hr /> + +<p>The time has now come for <i>Mr. Punch</i> to bid his +pupils farewell, which he does with a pleasure that he +has some reason to hope will be not unreciprocated. +During the few months over which this course has extended, +he has made it his aim to furnish the young +carpet-knight for the fray as completely as possible, and, +if the Amateur Reciter be not (as some hold) already +invulnerable, the panoply of pieces with which he has +been armed here should go far to render him so.</p> + +<p>All <i>Mr. Punch</i> would ask in return is that, when any +one of his young friends is retiring, flushed with triumph, +amidst an intoxicating murmur of faint applause and +renewed conversation, after delivering some composition +of his Preceptor’s, he will not suffer himself to be completely +dazzled by success, but will remember the means +which have contributed thereto with such gratitude as +he may be able to command.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>“<span class="sc">Discoveries at Pompeii.</span>”—Under this heading we +read in the <i>Times</i> that four silver urns of fair size were +found, also four smaller vessels, eight open vases, four +cups ornamented with leaves, &c. “Urns” for hot +water: “smaller vessels,” tea-pots; “eight open vases,” +sugar-basins; “four cups,” tea-cups, “ornamented with +leaves,”—very fanciful design, probably tea-leaves,—and +there we have before us “Five o’clock Tea, as known +to the Ladies of Pompeii.”</p> + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page182" id="page182"></a>[pg 182]</span></p> + +<h2>THE LEGION OF DISHONOUR.</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/182.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/182.png" alt="" /></a></div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p><i>The Modern Autolycus sings</i>:—</p> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<p>When parvenus begin to peer,</p> +<p class="i2">With heigh! the ribbon on the coat!</p> +<p>Why, then the love of rank shines clear,</p> +<p class="i2">In base-blood, spite of the People’s vote.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The medal gleaming on the breast!</p> +<p class="i2">With heigh! the red coins how they ring!</p> +<p>The Citizens clamour with eager zest,</p> +<p class="i2">Despite their hate of crown and king!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The <i>bourgeois</i> soul star-honours wants,</p> +<p class="i2">With heigh! the peacock-aping jay!</p> +<p>The hunger for honours finds singular haunts,</p> +<p class="i2">Their sale is a traffic that’s bound to pay.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I have served Princes, and, in my time, +worn Imperial livery, but now I am in the +Republic’s service.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>But shall I mourn for that, or fear?</p> +<p class="i2">Gold glitters, silver’s bright,</p> +<p>And decorations not <i>too</i> dear</p> +<p class="i2">Citizen-souls delight.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>If pedlars may have leave to live,</p> +<p class="i2">Though “honours” cram their budget,</p> +<p>A good account I yet may give;</p> +<p class="i2">If caught,—I can but trudge it!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Ribbons of all colours, lo!</p> +<p>Crosses—mark their gleam and glow!</p> +<p>Blue as violets, red as roses,</p> +<p>Buy them swift whilst power dozes!</p> +<p>Decorated thus you’ll clamber</p> +<p>To court-height or lady’s chamber.</p> +<p>Golden talismans are these.</p> +<p><i>Parvenus</i> may pass with ease</p> +<p>With these gauds to heights the leal</p> +<p>Buy with brain or stainless steel.</p> +<p>Come buy of me, come buy, come buy!</p> +<p>Cheap “honours” now is all the cry!</p> +<p class="i6">Buy ribbons—like tape,</p> +<p class="i6">Blue blood you may ape,</p> +<p>They’re dainty, and not too dear-a!</p> +<p class="i6">With peers you may tread,</p> +<p class="i6">Yet hold up your head,</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page183" id="page183"></a>[pg 183]</span> +<p>They’re the newest and finest of wear-a!</p> +<p class="i4">Come to the pedlar,</p> +<p class="i4">Money’s a meddler,</p> +<p>That gets <i>all</i> men by the ear-a!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>[<i>Has <span class="sc lowercase">HIS</span> ear suddenly pulled by Madame La République.</i></p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:71%;"><a href="images/183.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/183.png" alt="RETALIATION." /></a> +<h3>RETALIATION.</h3> + +<p><i>Cabby.</i> “<span class="sc">Wha’s this for, Lady? +Which my Fare’s Two Shill</span>——”</p> + +<p><i>Old Lady (quite able to take care of herself).</i> +“<span class="sc">I beg your pardon, Cabman. I know the Distance—it’s +not Three Miles by Two Hundred Yards. Please knock at the</span>——”</p> + +<p><i>Cabby.</i> “<span class="sc">Ugh! Y’ ’on’t +hev a Double Knock, I can tell yer that!</span>”</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>ROBERT ON SPELLING.</h2> + +<p>I’ve bin informed, on such orthority +as I carnt for a moment dout, wiz., +Professor <span class="sc">Bassingham</span> of the White +Cross Brigade, that a cumpany has +bin formed in Amerrikey to perswade +hewerybody as writes English to spell +it as I does. I never knowd afore but +what I spelt my spelling like other +littery gennelmen, but I’m told now +that I don’t, but that I spells it more +nateral like, and so it appears that +after about 2 years thinkin of it over, +the gratest Orthers in Amerrykey +has all resolved to follow my nobel +xample and do as I does, as neer as +they can git to it. So they has +formed theirselves into the “Spelling +Reform Association,” and has got a +Presedent, and Wise Presidents, and +a Counsel, and a Seketerry, and all +the blooming luxurys of a rich Cumpany, +and has jest published their +fust Number and charges fore shillins +for it, as I nose to my corst, cos +I’ve jest bin and bort one.</p> + +<p>Well, having jest a lezzure hour or +2, I’ve bin a trying to read my noo +book, witch is suttenly to me a dear +book, but I greeves to say as I don’t +find werry much in it, as I understands. +They suttenly uses sum +werry powerful words, and sez sum +werry powerful things, and tries +their werry best to spell like me, but +I don’t think as I can troothfully say +as they always suckeeds. They spels +<i>hed</i> like me, and <i>helth</i>, and <i>dropt</i>, and +<i>enuf</i>; but who ever seed me use sitch +words as <i>thru</i>, or <i>cof</i>, or <i>thuro</i>, or +<i>tuf</i>, or <i>ughly</i>?</p> + +<p>Professor <span class="sc">Chadband</span>, L.L.D., says +that “our senseless spelling makes +him ashamed of his language, and yet +thru habit he continues it.” <span class="sc">David +D. Field</span>, L.L.D., of New York, +talks of our Nobel English Tung +“being disfigured,” and says I ought +to be haild as a deliverer!</p> + +<p>Professor <span class="sc">Hadley</span> says, “our language +is shockingly speld.” Lord +<span class="sc">Lytton</span> says, “it is a lying round-about +puzl-heded delusion!” and our +own heloqwent Sir <span class="sc">C. E. Trevelyan</span>, +K.C.B., says, “it is a labyrinth, a +chaos, an absurdity, and a disgrace!” +and the Hedditer of the book winds it +all up by saying that “it is the wurst +there is!” Poor old English Langwidge! +I ony wonders how <span class="sc">Shakespear</span> +and <span class="sc">Milton</span>, and <span class="sc">Burns</span> +managed to get on with it, tho suttenly +<span class="sc">Burns</span> was a dredful bad speller. +Why he used to spell “who” <i>wha</i>, +and “have” <i>hae</i>, and “whom” +<i>wham</i>! But then he was only a +poor plowman, and not an Hed +Waiter. I of coarse little thort wen +I fust commenced my umbel efforts +to instruckt and enliten the world +with skimmings from my daily dairy, +that I shood ever be held up to the +admirashun and gratitood of English +mankind as a deliverer of our nobel +English Tung from its many defecks, +but I of course acceps the +pursishun, and, I ope, with becoming umility, and if the Spelling Reform Association chooses, as +seems ony nateral, to elect me as one of their Wice Presidents, with a nice cumferal little salary +paid quarterly, in adwance, I shall not at all object to become also one of their regular +contribbuters, or ewen to hedit sum of their harticles as is really not quite hup to the mark in the +spelling line.</p> + +<p>Professor <span class="sc">F. J. Child</span>, P.D., L.H.D., cums it rayther +strong when he says, “Sum hav a religious +aw, and sum hay an erth-born passion for our establisht spelling. I don’t much care how anybody +spells, so he spels different from that.” But praps one of the werry greatest staggerers in my four-shilling +staggering book, is what the Heditter says, wiz., “A filologist who should uphold our present +mode of spelling, would be like an astronomer who should teach that the Erth is based on a Turtl.”</p> + +<p>I think that’s about the most wunderfullest sentense as ewen a Hedhitter ever wrote, and +they does sumtimes cum out with a startler or 2. Fust with regard to the spelling. As I don’t in +the least know what a Filologist means I carnt of course say much as to that, but if there is one +mortal thing in this butiful world of ours as I does know sumthink about, I should think as all +the ciwilized world woud agree as it was Turtle, and I refuses at once, without no manner of dowt, +to pardon the man who coud carmly and cooly sit down and write that almost sacred name +without his final Hee! Turtl, indeed! why it amost makes me shudder as I rites it down; and +jest before Lord Mare’s Day too, why it’s hadding hinsult to hinjury. But ewen that isn’t all +the marwels of this most egstrordinary sentense. What in the world can he mean by saying as the +world is based on a Turtl?</p> + +<p>Of course no one can posserbly know better nor me, that without that glorious addition to a +gorgeous <i>Manu</i>, the werry hiest classes of society, such as Princes, and Lord Mares, and Bishops, +and Aldermen, woud find it remarkabel difficult to git through their harduous dooties, but ewen I +should never have once thort of saying that the hole world is <i>based</i> upon it, which I spose means, +carnt posserbly git on without it. No, if there’s one thing as I strongly objecs to, it’s xaggerashun, +and in this werry partickler case I boldly charges it against the Hedhitter of “Spelling,” price +four shillings, even though he and his frends does do me the hi honour of holding me hup as a bennyfacter +to all English spelling races.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Robert.</span></p> + +<p>Pose Cript.—I sees as how a gent of the xstrordinary name of +“<span class="sc">Eizak Pitman</span>” has been +and gorn and rote to the <i>Times</i> on this werry same subjeck as me; but I’m two busy jest now +with prepperrations for the himportantest of all days—need I say the Ninth of Nowember—to be +abel to give all my hole mind to it, as it seems to require. But I at once, without not no hezzytation +and dowt, gives my caudial assent to his Golden Rule, wiz: “When in dout, selekt the +werry simpletonest spelling.”</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">R.</span></p> + +<hr /> + +<p>“<span class="sc">Irish Prosecutions.</span>”—In +the <i>Times</i> of Friday last, under the foregoing heading, that most +contentious and sledge-hammering correspondent, Lord <span class="sc">Bramwell</span>, came down heavily, very +heavily, on the unfortunate “American Lawyer,” Mr. +<span class="sc">Mundy</span>, who had presumed to express an +opinion opposed to that of my Lord <span class="sc">Bramwell</span>. +Of course, after this, there’s an end of the American +Lawyer, and, at all events, up to the date abovementioned, Lord <span class="sc">Bramwell</span> may say, triumphantly, +“<i>Sic transit gloria Mundy!</i>”</p> + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page184" id="page184"></a>[pg 184]</span></p> + +<h2>THE LETTER-BAG OF TOBY, M.P.</h2> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">From a Young Man Still in the Country.</span></p> + +<p class="author"><i>Eaton Hall, Saturday.</i></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:54%;"><a href="images/184.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/184.png" alt="" /></a></div> + +<p><span class="sc">Dear Toby</span>,—I write to you from here +where I stay a day or two on my way +to Dublin. I expect by the time it +reaches you I will be installed in the +Chief Secretary’s Lodge, and the +National League may prepare to sit +up. I have been spending a week or +two very agreeably in Scotland, a little +out of the way of letters or newspapers. +I am told there has been quite a +demand for me, a sort of popular outcry +that I should forthwith proceed to +Ireland. This is, of course, not unflattering. +It indicates a general +belief which I, for one, am not disposed +to contest, that if Ireland is to be +saved, I’m the man to do it. That’s +all very well; but it is, doncha know, +something of a boah to be thus +bothered at a time when one had two +or three pleasant engagements on +hand. It used to be just the same in the House last Session. If I did not really +live there, entering with the Mace and the <span class="sc">Speaker</span>, and leaving only at the cry +of “Who goes home?” there were impetuous protests. I put in <span class="sc">King-Harman</span> +at Question time, but they wouldn’t have him. Often, as I lay on the sofa in +the Chief Secretary’s room, looking over <i>Punch</i>, or reading the proofs of the +forthcoming new edition of my <i>Defence of Philosophic Doubt</i>, I have heard the +distant growls of the Irish Members when <span class="sc">King-Harman</span> rose to answer a +question addressed to me. Quite touching this personal attachment. At the +same time a little embarrassing.</p> + +<p>Now I am really going to Dublin, and shall spend a cheerful November there. +<span class="sc">Grandolph</span>, in his genial way, has tried to make things pleasant by reminding +me that from the drawing-room window of the Chief Secretary’s Lodge I can see +the place where poor <span class="sc">Freddy Cavendish</span> fell. “They’re sure to take a pot shot +at you,” he says; “but you’re all right. Unless a man can make sure of hitting +a lamp-post at fifty paces, it will be no use his trying to bring you down.” +A nice companionable man <span class="sc">Grandolph</span>. Always tries to say something pleasant. +But really I don’t pay much attention to his kindly apprehensions. I shall +be boahed, I daresay; but not by the passage of a bullet, or the thrust of a knife.</p> + +<p>People evidently expect great things to follow on my arrival in Dublin. To +the accident of my holiday absence in Scotland they attribute all the failures of +the Executive. “If <span class="sc">Balfour</span> had been there,” +they say, “<span class="sc">W. O’Brien</span> would now +be comfortably in gaol and T. D. S., Lord Mayor, would be laid by the heels.” +I weally don’t know. Fact is, I have not closely followed up affairs either in the +newspapers or despatches. There have been some rows, I understand. But that +is not unusual in Ireland. Where people are right in kindly looking to me to +restore peace and order in Ireland is in the supposition that I have a plan. +That is true, though I cannot claim personal and private property in it. Fact +is the plan is <span class="sc">Cromwell’s</span>. It worked admirably when originally put in practice, +and I do not see any reason why it should fail now. There are, of course, difficulties +in the way; prejudice to be overcome, legal forms to be dealt with, and +that sort of thing. There is also, next Session of Parliament to be met, and +awkward questions by <span class="sc">Tim Healy</span> and the rest. But they need not think to +intimidate me by such reflections. I shall put up <span class="sc">King-Harman</span> to answer all +inconvenient questions. Besides, it is exceedingly probable that in the full +development of my plan the Irish Members who last Session distinguished themselves +by “wanting to know” will be unavoidably absent from their places. It +is an awful nuisance breaking in upon a man’s holiday; but it is a difficulty +that has to be faced, and as there seems a popular inclination to look to me to +settle it, I suppose there is nothing to be done but to grapple with it.</p> + +<p>One additional drawback from a quite unexpected +source makes itself known by correspondence with my +colleagues. They are all in a dreadful state of fussy +alarm. My uncle the Markiss begs me to be careful. +“Firmness without Rashness” is an excellent copy-head, +which <span class="sc">W. H. Smith</span> sends me in fine round-hand +from the distant Mediterranean. I wish they’d all mind +their own affairs. In the intervals of my other occupations +I can answer for Ireland, and if any awkwardness +arises, I can put up <span class="sc">King-Harman</span> to answer for me. +So, dear <span class="sc">Toby</span>, don’t you have any anxiety on my +account. Some half-hour after dinner, with the contemplative +toothpick at hand, and my heels on the table, I +will, if the subject occurs to me, settle the Irish Question.</p> + +<p class="center">Yours faithfully,</p> +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Arth-r B-lf-r</span>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>BIG WORK AND LITTLE HANDS.</h2> + +<p>That a child prodigy should have been able twice last +week to fill St. James’s Hall to overflowing, may not perhaps +speak at the first glance very highly for the artistic instincts +of the British Public, who, as a thoughtful musical critic +remarks in the pages of a contemporary, are sometimes +“more impressed by a little boy in an Eton jacket than +by the finest music that might be played in less exciting +circumstances;” still it cannot be denied that the couple +of recitals referred to, given by Master <span class="sc">Josef Hofmann</span>, +were altogether two exceptionally brilliant performances. +Commenting, however, on the little fellow’s efforts to give +a good rendering of a slow movement, the critic already +alluded to asks how, in a long-drawn melody which is a +matter of passion and of feeling, “a child of eleven can +have much feeling or any passion?” Surely this is +hypercriticism. Ask any boy of eleven who has had a +whipping, or has come off second best in a fight with his +little sister, whether he hasn’t much feeling;—and as for +passion! Well: but, perhaps this is not exactly what +the critic means. Nevertheless, he proceeds rather +pertinently to ask whether this singularly gifted +young artist will be suffered, “when he has served the +immediate purposes of those who have control over him, +to continue his studies in a rational manner and far from +the fierce light and the hot-house temperature pertaining +to the concert platform?” As Master <span class="sc">Josef Hofmann</span> is +already booked for an American tour, there does not seem +any prospect of this highly desirable consummation, at +least in the near future. Judging, therefore, from little +Master <span class="sc">Josef’s</span> present arrangements, one would be disposed +to apostrophise him sympathetically in the language +of Dr. <span class="sc">Watts</span>, and say:—</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>“Night after night, you’ll prove a sight</p> +<p class="i2">To draw the cute Yankee,</p> +<p>Because your little hands were made</p> +<p class="i2">To stretch from C to C!”</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>Still, as he is an unquestionable genius who has a +future before him, it is to be hoped that he won’t be +“worked out” early at high pressure, and stimulated by +a success that will only blunt his powers by depriving +him of that desire for true progress in his art by which +alone they can be legitimately developed. “Not too much +gaslight, some practice, and plenty of battledore and +shuttlecock,” is the proper <i>recipe</i> for little Master <span class="sc">Josef</span>. +With this he can’t go wrong, and will, without doubt, +if he stick to it, command the musical world of the +future as surely as he has astonished that of to-day.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>“NO MORE SEA-SICKNESS!” <span class="sc">No More “bad +quarters-of-an-hour” in Crossing the Channel!</span> +Try Mons. <span class="sc">M. L. Mayer’s</span> Remedy, to be provided on +October 24 up to the middle of November, and probably +longer, if all goes well, at the Remedy Theatre—no—at +the Royalty Theatre, where he intends giving a season of +French plays, and brings M. <span class="sc">Coquelin</span>, Mmes. <span class="sc">Chaumont</span> +and <span class="sc">Jane May</span>,—not all at once but one at a time,—over +to afford amusement to those Londoners who can’t afford +amusement in Paris, or who object to the sea-passage, or +who cannot spare sufficient time for the trip. M. <span class="sc">Coquelin</span> +has with him a fair-sized bag of tricks which includes, +among other things, <i>Don Cæsar de Bazan</i>, and he means +to devote three-fourths of one evening’s entertainment to +monologues, among which, Mr. <span class="sc">Beerbohm Tree</span> will be +delighted to hear, is announced <i>Gringoire</i>. M. <span class="sc">Mayer</span>, +will of course, see that his stars are well supported, and +the public, delighted to save the sea-voyage, will support +M. <span class="sc">Mayer</span>.</p> + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page185" id="page185"></a>[pg 185]</span></p> + +<h2>SHOWS VIEWS.</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>By Victor Who-goes-Everywhere.</i></p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:24%;"><a href="images/185.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/185.png" alt="" /></a></div> + +<p>THE suggestion made a month ago by a “Salubrity Abroad,” (now +happily a “Salubrity at home”) that the above title would make a +good heading for an all-round-about theatrical and entertainment +article in <i>Mr. Punch’s</i> pages, is +at length carried out. In the character +of a hero conquering difficulties, +I have been here, there, +and everywhere. My first triumph +was at the Gaiety Theatre, where +(after surmounting all obstruction) +I secured a place from whence +<i>Miss Esmeralda</i> could be watched +in comfort. This piece is called a +“melodramatic burlesque,” in +two Acts, but I confess I failed to +distinguish either the melodrama +or the burlesque. It was, however, +well mounted with good scenery +and pretty dresses. It had further +the advantage of an excellent +stage-manager in Mr. <span class="sc">Charles +Harris</span>, and a no less excellent +dance inventor in Mr. <span class="sc">John +D’Auban</span>, but of the book the less that is said the better. Frankly, +it is not amusing. This being the case I was not surprised to find +the names of its authors printed in the programme in a type just +half the size accorded to the style and title of “the producer.” The +acting calls for no particular comment. Mr. <span class="sc">Lonnen</span> sings an Irish +song excellently well, but is less diverting when he trusts to +attitudinising as a provocative to merriment. Miss <span class="sc">Marion Hood’s</span> +charming face is sweeter than her voice, and Miss <span class="sc">Fannie Leslie’s</span> +singing is as welcome now as ever it was—it recalls many a +vocal triumph of the past. Mr. <span class="sc">George Stone</span> as <i>Gringoire</i> is more +broadly comic than Mr. <span class="sc">Beerbohm Tree</span> in a somewhat similar <i>rôle</i> +in the <i>Ballad Monger</i>. Both the Misses <span class="sc">Blanche</span> are all that +could be desired in two subordinate characters. In the last Act there +is a “Pyramid Ballet,”—which is slightly perplexing. Until my +attention was pointedly called to the fact that I was watching a +terpischorean demonstration of a game of billiards, I was under the +impression that some of the intricacies of the plot of <span class="sc">Victor Hugo’s</span> +<i>Notre Dame</i> were being very cleverly explained to me in easily +followed dumb show. Perhaps the best thing (barring the Irish song) +in the whole piece is an ingenious dance of Warders and Prisoners in +Scene I., Act 2. In alluding to the list of the company I should not +have forgotten to say that the names of that admirable comedian +Mr. <span class="sc">H. Leslie</span> and that evergreen queen of burlesque, Miss <span class="sc">E. Farren</span>, +are conspicuous by their absence. In spite of this very serious drawback, +no doubt Miss <i>Esmeralda</i> will be as successful as it deserves to +be. The scenery, dresses, and music, are alone worth a visit. And +when I say this I leave out the acting, the singing and the dancing.</p> + +<p>I also went to the Royal Aquarium the other afternoon, and witnessed +the performances of a troupe of genuine Russian Wolves. If I <i>had</i> to +appear in public myself with a company of performing animals, I think +I should prefer poodles, or white mice, though, as a spectacle, wolves +are undoubtedly more thrilling. I don’t know that these particular +wolves did much; but the really striking fact, of course, was their +condescension in doing anything, and it was certainly “pretty to +see” them jumping a gate, and arranging themselves picturesquely +on chairs, with just sufficient display of grinning jaws to make the +audience congratulate themselves that the stage was fenced round +by temporary iron railings. The creatures are evidently deeply +attached to the Professor, who has so ably prepared them for public +life. I was convinced of this by the effusion with which one after +another advanced and kissed his forehead, on receiving a slight hint +to that effect from a whip. But to be kissed—however tenderly—by +a wolf, must be a creepy sensation. On the occasion when I was +present we were afforded an additional, and I may say an unrehearsed, +sensation after the act-drop fell. There was a scurry behind, a +shout, and then—a great jagged rent in the curtain. People in the +front row of stalls looked uncomfortable—it did seem very much as +if one of the wolves had determined to “take a call” on his own +account, but it was merely a little mishap with one of the railings. +However, there was no real cause for alarm in any case, for an +audience would have had ample time to escape while the wolf was +amusing himself with the orchestra, which, fortunately, is a +remarkably good one.</p> + +<p>After the Wolves, by way of contrast, I paid a visit to La Belle +<span class="sc">Fatma</span>. On delivery of a shilling, I, with other members of the Public, +was passed in to a screened-off portion of the Imperial Theatre. A +stout French gentleman seated himself at a piano below the stage, +and the curtain rose presently, disclosing the fair <span class="sc">Fatma</span> and her +troupe seated in a row, like a new variety of Christy Minstrels. +With regard to the principal lady, I am bound to say that her +charms did not seem to me to have been at all overestimated, and her +portraits upon the posters actually do her less than justice. But +this is a matter of opinion; and I must confess that, after all, it +was not upon the peerless <span class="sc">Fatma</span> that my eyes were most riveted. +There was a stout old lady in a turban, two places from her—<i>such</i> +an old lady! with immense black eyebrows, meeting over flashing +dark eyes, and a massive Oriental nose, a wide sternly compressed +mouth, and three chins. Upon her knees she held a gourd-shaped +drum, which she smacked severely at intervals; she might have sat +for <span class="sc">Cornelia</span> polishing one of her “jewels”; and when she sang, +the illusion was complete!</p> + +<p>As to the performance, it was Oriental; and no description can +convey much more. We had an Overture on the familiar “Rum-tum-tum, +tum-a-tum-tum-tum, tum-a-tum” theme, which revealed +considerable “staying power” on both sides of the footlights. +Then one member of the <i>troupe</i> after another advanced, and, if a +lady, <i>chassé</i>’d and revolved with slowly waving arms, and an expression +that seemed to imply that she would take more pains if it +were only worth while; if a man, he capered and grinned and shouted +in a manner which, at all events, infinitely amused the performer +himself. While this was going on, the old lady continued to +“spank”—there really is no better term for it—her drum in a sort +of grim <i>rêverie</i>, and a young person by her side emitted piercing +shrieks by way of enlivening the proceedings. There was a mysterious +One on the stage, who reminded me of an immense dice-box +muffled in muslin; this, it turned out, was the <span class="sc">Colossus</span> of <span class="sc">Sousse</span>, +to whom was entrusted the function of “presenting” Mademoiselle +<span class="sc">Fatma</span> at the close of the performance. This seemed superfluous, +particularly as the excellent Colossus had no notion of doing more +than taking her by the hand and stalking two paces forward. It +was all over in a quarter of an hour or so; and, for my own part, I +considered the old lady in the turban alone worth the paltry shilling +charged for admission.</p> + +<p>I have also been to <span class="sc">Terry’s</span> Theatre, where great precautions are +taken to prevent fire. Everything, more or less, is labelled “Exit,” +and, instead of doors, in several parts of the house there are curtains. +On the whole it must be a good theatre to escape from. This is +worth noting, if the performances are wearisome.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>BALLADE OF THE TIMID BARD.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>To Angelica, who bids him publish.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>In Memory’s mystical hazes</p> +<p class="i2">I see a vast Gander and grey,</p> +<p>I see the small boy that he chases</p> +<p class="i2">At the head of a hissing array:</p> +<p class="i2">How I wept when they brought me to bay,</p> +<p>How I pleaded in vain for a truce!</p> +<p class="i2">Too frightened to shoo them away,</p> +<p>I could never say Boh to a Goose!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I have lived through a number of phases,</p> +<p class="i2">I have rhymed of the grave and the gay,</p> +<p>But the clatter of critical phrases,</p> +<p class="i2">But the moralist armed for the fray,</p> +<p class="i2">I have fled in unseemly dismay,</p> +<p>Since the Gander—’tis all my excuse—</p> +<p class="i2">For, in brief, since that terrible day—</p> +<p>I could never say Boh to a Goose!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>It was fabled of old that in places</p> +<p class="i2">Grow goose-bearing trees by the way,</p> +<p>Where bough within bough interlaces</p> +<p class="i2">Green geese flutter down from the spray;</p> +<p class="i2">In reviews, at first nights of the play,</p> +<p>These shrubs are in general use,</p> +<p class="i2">And I would not encounter them, nay,</p> +<p>I could <i>never</i> say Boh to a Goose!</p> + </div> + +<p><i>Envoy.</i></p> + +<div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="sc">Angelica!</span> bid me essay</p> +<p class="i2">The deeds of a <span class="sc">Wallace</span> or <span class="sc">Bruce</span>,</p> +<p>But talk not of <i>publishing</i>, pray—</p> +<p class="i2">I could never say Boh to a Goose!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Irish Appointment Extraordinary</span> (<i>subject to the kind permission +of Sir Bernard Burke, C.B., LL.D.</i>).—The Right Hon. <span class="sc">Joseph +O’Chamberlain</span>, M.P., to be Ulster-King-of-Arms.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Note by Augustus Druriolanus, after the Granting of +the Licence to the Empire Theatre.</span>—“<i>L’Empire c’est la</i> pay +46 per cent.—like the Alhambra.”</p> + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page186" id="page186"></a>[pg 186]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/186.png"><img width="100%" src="images/186.png" +alt="THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID." /></a> +<h3>THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID.</h3> + +<p><i>Professor Chatterleigh.</i> “<span class="sc">By George! +I’m so Hungry I can’t <i>Talk!</i></span>”</p> + +<p><i>Fair Hostess (on hospitable thoughts intent).</i> “<span class="sc">Oh, +I’m <i>so</i> Glad!</span>”</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE MESSENGER OF PEACE.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>With apologies to the Shade of the Author of +“Al Aarof.”</i>)</p> + +<blockquote><p> +[I have read ... that I have come to Ulster +to revive religious bigotry, to rekindle the embers +of party strife, and to revive ancient feuds which +are now in a fair way to be forgotten. I can assure +you that these are not the objects which I propose +to myself. (<i>Laughter.</i>)—<i>Report of Mr. Chamberlain’s +Speech in Belfast.</i>] +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p><i>Erin’s Guardian Angel sings</i>:—</p> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I came (by the steamer)</p> +<p class="i2">A cross the wild spray.</p> +<p>No bigot, no dreamer,</p> +<p class="i2">To moon time away.</p> +<p><span class="sc">Bright</span> lingers to ponder,</p> +<p class="i2">And make tart replies;</p> +<p>But I come, from yonder,</p> +<p class="i2">Drawn down from the skies.</p> +<p>With love I am laden,</p> +<p class="i2">Peace sits on my brow.</p> +<p>No, sweet Ulster maiden,</p> +<p class="i2">My game is <i>not</i> row!</p> +<p>Arise! from your dreaming,</p> +<p class="i2">In bright Orange bowers,</p> +<p>To duties beseeming,</p> +<p class="i2">Your fame and past powers.</p> +<p>My presence expresses</p> +<p class="i2">My fondness for you;</p> +<p>(My game no one guesses,</p> +<p class="i2">They read it askew)</p> +<p>Oh, how without you, love,</p> +<p class="i2">Can Ireland be blest?</p> +<p><i>You</i>’re loyal, <i>you</i>’re true, love,</p> +<p class="i2">Mad traitors the rest.</p> +<p>I shake from my wing</p> +<p>Each hindering thing.</p> +<p>The black Parnellite</p> +<p>Would weigh down my flight.</p> +<p>The G. O. M.’s messes,</p> +<p class="i2">I leave them apart,</p> +<p>His lures and his jesses,</p> +<p class="i2">His tricks and his art.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>W. G.! W. G.! Ah!</p> +<p class="i2">My old artful one,</p> +<p>You had an idea</p> +<p class="i2">With you I should run.</p> +<p>No! it is my will</p> +<p class="i2">On the breezes to toss</p> +<p>At caprice, or be still</p> +<p class="i2">Like a lone albatross.</p> +<p>Daring duckling? That’s past!</p> +<p class="i2">Stormy petrel? That’s flown!</p> +<p>I’m a halcyon at last,</p> +<p class="i2">A new <i>rôle</i>,—and my own!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>W. G. Ah! Whoever</p> +<p class="i2">Thine “items” may be,</p> +<p>For ever I sever</p> +<p class="i2">My fortunes from thee.</p> +<p>Thou hast bound many eyes</p> +<p class="i2">In sophistical sleep,</p> +<p>But the angel that flies</p> +<p class="i2">Will <i>thy</i> vigilance keep?</p> +<p>O Walker! (Again</p> +<p class="i2">A rhetorical flower</p> +<p>From thy full-teeming brain!)</p> +<p class="i2">I have passed a brief hour</p> +<p>In those same cipherings</p> +<p class="i2">Which you fudge—let that pass!</p> +<p>But my own view of things</p> +<p class="i2">Is not modell’d, alas!</p> +<p>On <i>yours</i>—none of the clearest—</p> +<p class="i2">But then, that’s your way—</p> +<p>’Tis one of the queerest;</p> +<p class="i2"><i>Do</i> you find it pay?</p> +<p>Ah! love moved the smiles</p> +<p class="i2">That beamed forth on my rest</p> +<p>On the greenest of Isles.</p> +<p class="i2">Its <i>Scotch</i> natives are best,</p> +<p>For they have in their keeping</p> +<p class="i2">Its wealth and its trade,</p> +<p>And Sedition, unsleeping,</p> +<p class="i2">Has spoilt, I’m afraid,</p> +<p>The true Pat of the Island.</p> +<p class="i2"><i>He</i> burns to be free,</p> +<p>His bosom holds guile, and</p> +<p class="i2">His bonnet a bee.</p> +<p>Go to! Let them slumber,</p> +<p class="i2">The Home-Ruling lot</p> +<p>Are not the huge number</p> +<p class="i2">They tell us—that’s rot!</p> +<p>I came to awaken,</p> +<p class="i2">An Angel of Peace!</p> +<p>I’m bound to be taken</p> +<p class="i2">For such ere I cease.</p> +<p><span class="sc">Parnell’s</span> spell makes <span class="sc">Pat</span> slumber,</p> +<p class="i2">Its witchery is test,</p> +<p>And your Orange-host’s number</p> +<p class="i2">Must manage the rest!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A PROTEST.</h2> + +<p><span class="sc">Dear Mr. Punch</span>,—Will you please ask +the <i>Times</i> not to allow such unpleasant subjects +to be introduced into its columns as there +was last Wednesday,—that is, judging by the +heading on page 8, “The Birch and the +Primitive Seat,” which of course none of us +fellows read (one line of it was enough for +me), and if there is another of the sort, we +shall vote that the <i>Times</i> isn’t taken in here +in future, and I don’t think the <i>Times</i> would +like that. A word from you will be sufficient, +I am sure.</p> + +<p class="center">Your Constant Reader,<br /> +<span class="sc">Upper Lower Middleton</span>.<br /> +<i>Eton College, Bucks, near Windsor, England.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Mrs. <span class="sc">Ram</span> says she couldn’t stop in an out-of-the-way +country-place, give up society, +and live like a Helmet in the desert.</p> + +<hr /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page187" id="page187"></a>[pg 187]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"><a href="images/187.png"><img width="100%" src="images/187.png" +alt="THE MESSENGER OF PEACE." /></a><h3>THE MESSENGER OF PEACE.</h3></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page189" id="page189"></a>[pg 189]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:57%;"><a href="images/189.png"><img width="100%" +src="images/189.png" alt="BRITISH FRENCH." /></a> +<h3>BRITISH FRENCH.</h3> + +<p><i>Emily.</i> “<span class="sc">Ask her to give us some more of her <i>Sacred</i> Music, George!</span>”</p> + +<p><i>George (a linguist).</i> “<span class="sc">Oh, Mademoiselle, donnez-nous encore de votre +Sacrée Musique.</span>”</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>JOE’S JAUNT.</h2> + +<p><i>Off to Ireland!</i>—At last. <span class="sc">Collings</span> with me, of course:—rather grumpy, +because <span class="sc">Salisbury’s</span> got the credit of passing the Allotments Bill, instead of +himself. Still, <span class="sc">Jesse</span> better than nobody. Would create bad impression to visit +Belfast without an <i>entourage</i>.</p> + +<p><i>In Steamer.</i>—Look up my Irish History—or rather, <span class="sc">Jesse’s</span> Irish History, +which he’s borrowed from Birmingham Free Library. An Alderman <i>can</i> do +that sort of thing. Also examine revolver. Not accustomed to carrying one. +What is the best place for it? <span class="sc">Jesse</span> says, “left-hand coat-tail pocket, +decidedly, because then you can whip it out in a twinkling.” <span class="sc">Jesse’s</span> confidence +contagious—he talks as if he had always been in the habit of “whipping-out” +revolvers, like a cow-boy,—or a “three-acres-and-a-cow-boy.” Do as he advises. +Very uncomfortable feeling. Sit down on revolver in a moment of +forgetfulness, and nearly blow Captain’s head off. Captain irritated. Asks me +for “ransom.” Ridiculous!</p> + +<p><i>Belfast.</i>—No end of a reception. Drive through the principal streets. +Enthusiastic populace insist on taking horses out of carriage and pulling it +themselves. Gratifying, but should feel safer with the horses. Why <i>will</i> <span class="sc">Collings</span> +bow? I’m the person to bow, obviously. Bad taste, but don’t like to +stop him. Believe the mob <i>take</i> him for me—or why do they cheer him so?</p> + +<p><i>At Hotel.</i>—Just found out reason of enthusiasm evoked by appearance of +<span class="sc">Jesse</span>. <i>He’s got on an Orange tie!</i> Ask him, reproachfully, why he did this? +Pretends it was a mere accident—forgot that orange was favourite Ulster colour. +Don’t want a religious riot, so make him take it off. <span class="sc">Jesse</span> getting grumpier. +Can’t help it.</p> + +<p><i>Evening.</i>—Before going to meeting, had better find out what Belfast chiefly +famous for. Ask <span class="sc">Collings</span>. Replies “linen-shirts and handkerchiefs.” Try +to put him in good humour by remarking that “<i>he</i> seems shirty.” Is there no +other historical fact connected with place? “Yes,” he replies, “visit of Lord +<span class="sc">Randolph Churchill</span>.” Wish he hadn’t mentioned latter event. Dispiriting. +Reminds one of proposed National Party, with self and <span class="sc">Randolph</span> as sole leaders—and +sole followers, too, it seems.</p> + +<p><i>At Hotel—after Speech.</i>—Great success. Felt horribly inclined to start +another Home Rule plan—my fifth—but fortunately refrained. Instead of +dismemberment of Empire, I offered more Members to +Ulster. Ulster people saw the justice of this arrangement +at once. Told ’em there were “two Irelands.” +Isn’t one Ireland enough, however?</p> + +<p><i>Coleraine.</i>—A triumphal arch, with “Welcome to +English Peasant Emancipators” on it. Stupid to bracket +<span class="sc">Collings</span> with me in this way. Receive threatening +letter. Reminds me of my revolver. <span class="sc">Jesse</span> examines +it with the air of a professional gunsmith, critically. +Appears quite hurt at its condition; says, “I’ve sat on +it so often he doubts if it would go off now,” and recommends +my carrying a “bowie-knife” instead. Am +surprised at <span class="sc">Jesse’s</span> acquaintance with deadly weapons. +Ask him what historical event took place at Coleraine. +Says he doesn’t know and doesn’t care. But what’s he +here for except to keep me posted up in local details? +Hint to him that “I hope I may be able to offer him +post of President of Local Government Board in my +future Ministry.” Replies (rudely, I think) that “he’ll +wait till I’m asked to form one.” <i>Query</i>—doesn’t air +of Ulster exercise demoralising effect on English politicians? +Is this the “Ulster Custom” one’s heard so +much about? <span class="sc">Randolph</span> a case in point.</p> + +<p><i>Back again.</i>—Coleraine speech excellent, though I say +it, as shouldn’t. Cheered to the echo. So was <span class="sc">Jesse</span>, +hang him! Shan’t take <i>him</i> to Canada with me. Now +for a study of the habits of deep-sea fish in the pages of +a Natural Science Primer.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>AN AUTUMN LAY.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>By a Belated Oarsman.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Come, little Maid, to the cracked piano,</p> +<p class="i2">The semi-grand in the coffee-room;</p> +<p>We’ll take your harmonies all <i>cum grano</i>,</p> +<p class="i2">For the strings vibrate like the crack of doom.</p> +<p class="i2">Over the lawn the flat clouds loom,</p> +<p>And when they lighten the rain falls faster;</p> +<p>Like gossips who relish a friend’s disaster</p> +<p class="i2">The ducks quack loud in the rain-ruled gloom.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I’ve studied the cracks in the ceiling-plaster,</p> +<p class="i2">And the statuettes with their stolid leer,</p> +<p>And the landscape visions of some Young Master,</p> +<p class="i2">Who viewed the world through a haze of beer.</p> +<p class="i2">We’ve done as much with the hostel’s cheer</p> +<p>As sane men may <i>in corpore sano</i>;</p> +<p class="i2">So come, little Maid, to the cracked piano.</p> +<p>Play us “<i>The Battle of Prague</i>,” my dear.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The silence clouds, like a potion shaken,</p> +<p class="i2">As the limp strings jar to an ancient pain;</p> +<p>Their light and sweetness no touch can waken,</p> +<p class="i2">And only the dregs of a tone remain.</p> +<p class="i2">The silk-sewn music with fray and stain</p> +<p>Swoons on the keys at the urgent stages,</p> +<p class="i2">And the little Maid, as she props the pages,</p> +<p>Just murmurs, “Bother!” and starts again.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And the streaming window again engages</p> +<p class="i2">The thoughts that stray from the field of Prague;</p> +<p>And the moping birds in their gauze-girt cages,</p> +<p class="i2">And the wax-work fruits of a genus vague;</p> +<p class="i2">And the flies that buzz like a lazy plague</p> +<p>Round the lone lorn jam, as it stands forsaken;</p> +<p class="i2">And the varnished pike in the mill-pool taken</p> +<p>About the year that they fought at Prague.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>But twilight falls, and its folds encumber</p> +<p class="i2">The misty mounds of the patient trees,</p> +<p>And sunset cheers with a touch of umber</p> +<p class="i2">The puddles of steel-gray Gruyère cheese.</p> +<p class="i2">And, interposing a little ease,</p> +<p>Our frail thoughts dally with false surmises</p> +<p class="i2">Of a morning as brilliant as mid July’s is</p> +<p>With bravest sunshine and sweetest breeze.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>A soothing silence the soul surprises,</p> +<p class="i2">For the little Maid, like a hero true,</p> +<p>Has fought her fight through its poignant crises,</p> +<p class="i2">And shown what practice can dare and do.</p> +<p class="i2">And, tearing the moonlight in handfuls through,</p> +<p>A giant arm in the cloudland sombre</p> +<p class="i2">Scatters the light on a world of slumber,</p> +<p>Through snowy craters, from gulfs of blue.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page190" id="page190"></a>[pg 190]</span></p> + +<h2>BOGEY IN BOND STREET.</h2> + +<p class="center">(<i>A Legend of the Grosvenor Gallery.</i>)</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:65%;"><a href="images/190.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/190.png" alt="" /></a></div> + +<p>The Spirit of Art glided through the streets of Modern London, seeking a resting-place. +She entered the Diploma Gallery of the Royal Academy, but hurried away, +affrighted at some of the terrible examples of the illustrious Forty.</p> + +<p>“And these are the greatest English painters!” she murmured—“the countrymen of +<span class="sc">Shakspeare</span>, <span class="sc">Milton</span>, and <span class="sc">Addison</span>, +<span class="sc">Tennyson</span>, <span class="sc">Macaulay</span>, and <span class="sc">Dickens</span>! How is it +that Painting cannot keep pace with Literature?”</p> + +<p>It sounded like a Conundrum, and the Spirit of Art was not good at Conundrums. So +she gave it up. Then she passed into other Exhibitions—there were quite a dozen in +the neighbourhood at the very least. But she was unsatisfied, and came away. She +paused, and considered. The Spirit of Art had one great English friend (of Irish extraction), +who was a Musician.</p> + +<p>“<span class="sc">Arthur</span> is a clever fellow,” +said the Spirit of Art to herself—there was no one else +to speak to—“and if he <i>does</i> compose more comic Operas than Oratorios, it is, I suppose, +because there is a greater demand for the former than the latter.”</p> + +<p>From this it will be seen the Spirit of Art had, on the whole, a good head for business. +“Now,” continued the Representative of the Beautiful, “I distinctly recollect that the +words to one of the songs of my friend <span class="sc">Arthur</span> contained a pointed reference to the +Greenery Yallery Gallery. I fancy, from all I +have heard, that the sort of thing I want will +be found in the Greenery Yallery Gallery.”</p> + +<p>She was quite pleased at the notion. To tell +the truth the Spirit of Art was rather weary +of perambulating the streets of London—not +even the advertisements of <span class="sc">Buffalo Bill</span> on +the hoardings gave her lasting satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“Let me consider,” she said, as she hovered +on the threshold of the Grosvenor Gallery, +“now I shall find myself amongst the grandest +works of Mister <span class="sc">Jones</span>. I am never tired of +that pale face with the pointed chin—no more +is Mister <span class="sc">Jones</span>. This frequently-reproduced +portrait of a lady is most interesting. No +doubt it is a study of a chronic case of +dyspepsia that must have lasted for twenty +years. Then I shall see the choicest works +of <span class="sc">More</span> and <span class="sc">Millais</span>, and <span class="sc">Watts</span>, and oh, +joy! of Sir <span class="sc">Coutts-Lindsay</span>! This is indeed +the very spot for a resting-place.”</p> + +<p>So the Spirit of Art glided up the staircase +and into the Grosvenor Gallery. For a moment +she was puzzled. There was no dyspeptic lady—“no +greenery” and very little “yallery.” +Then she shivered, for on all sides she found +immense pictures of battles and executions +ghastly beyond description.</p> + +<p>“Why, what are these?” she gasped. +“What are these?”</p> + +<p>“Catalogue, Miss?” replied a civil attendant. +“Thank you, Miss,—sixpence.”</p> + +<p>And then the Spirit of Art read that such +and such a picture represented a dreadful defeat, +that a pestilent hospital, yonder one a +scene of torture. She found representations of +war treated in the most prosaic and unbeautiful +form.</p> + +<p>She was horrified and fainted!</p> + +<p>Then the vision, before her became more and +more terrible and the entire contents of the +Catalogue was unfolded before her. Dying +soldiers defying vultures, mutilated Russians +lying in an open grave, old men being blown +from the guns! Wounds, and fire, and blood!</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>When she came to herself she hurried away. +She thought it out.</p> + +<p>“I must gradually accustom myself to less +horrible things,” she whispered. “I will begin +at once. If I were not to do this by degrees, +I should go mad!” She called a hansom.</p> + +<p>“Where to, Miss?”</p> + +<p>“To the Marylebone Road,” cried the Spirit +of Art—in these days the Spirit is a very self-assertive +young person, and not at all like an +unprotected female—“Baker Street Station, +Marylebone Road.”</p> + +<p>Then she threw away her Catalogue.</p> + +<p>“I must see something less repulsive than +this—I must gradually resume my normal condition. +Something less repulsive! I have it! +I will begin with the figures of Madame <span class="sc">Tussaud’s</span>—in +the Chamber of Horrors!”</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>CHAIRS TO MEND.</h2> + +<p>Congregation at Oxford, having (in an +empty House), for the sake of economy, turned +the old Professorship of Anglo-Saxon into +one of English Literature, and having, with a +view to utilising its salary, entirely suppressed +the chair of Poetry, it is rumoured that the +Hebdomadal Council have already in contemplation +a sweeping list of curtailments in the +same direction.</p> + +<p>The Professorships of Arabic, Archæology, +Astronomy, Botany, Celtic, Chemistry, and +Chinese, will, it is said, also be rolled into one.</p> + +<p>It is hoped that, by some spirited reforms in +the direction indicated above, the University +that, from the fashion in which it has dealt +with the Chair of Poetry, appears indeed to be +out at elbows, may survive the financial crisis +in which it is evidently involved.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page191" id="page191"></a>[pg 191]</span></p> + +<h2>CHANNEL TALK.</h2> + +<p><i>Arranged for the use of +the returning British +Passenger at Breakfast-time. +By a very Dyspeptic +Contributor.</i></p> + +<p>It is a glorious thing +to think that one is +leaving France and all +foreign kickshaws behind +one, and is once +more approaching dear +honest old England on +the deck of a British +steamer.</p> + +<p>But let us come into +the cabin and have a +bit of breakfast before +we get in.</p> + +<p>Surely that table +covered with a dirty +sheet instead of a tablecloth +is not prepared for +our repast?</p> + +<p>Why, this stale +loaf must have been on +board quite a week.</p> + +<p>It has evidently made +several passages backwards +and forwards in +company with this extremely +remarkable +sample of butter.</p> + +<p>Why does this coffee +the Steward has just +brought us look like +ink and sawdust, and +taste like something +perplexing?</p> + +<p>The Frenchman, who +has been expecting <i>déjeuner +à la fourchette</i>, +is surveying with astonishment +the dish of +mutton-chops they have +set down before him.</p> + +<p>It is a great pity that +they are all two inches +thick, and are underdone +when cut.</p> + +<p>I wonder whether he +is thinking, as I am, of +the clean, fresh, and +trim <i>restaurant</i> table, +the excellent <i>café au +laít, petits-pains</i>, Normandy +butter, and other +“foreign kickshaws,” +that he has just left behind +him in France.</p> + +<p>Though he has had to +pay three shillings for +his hot breakfast, he +has informed me that +he will wait till he arrives, +and take “<i>le +lunch</i>” on shore.</p> + +<p>I wonder whether he +is aware that, if he +makes this meal at the +typical Refreshment-Room, +he will have to +content himself with +stale sponge-cakes, the +day-before-yesterday’s +buns, and small tins of +lemon-drops.</p> + +<p>But let us get out of +the Cabin. I certainly +prefer the deck of an +excellent steamer to the +arrangements made for +providing one with +breakfast down below.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>A QUESTION OF POLICE.</h2> + +<blockquote><p> +“The rapid increase both of buildings and population which has +taken place in the Metropolitan Police district of late +years has outrun the increase which it has been possible to make to the +Police Force.”—<i>Sir Charles Warren, in his Official +Reports, 1885, 1886.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<blockquote><p> +“The average applications for admission to the Metropolitan Police Force now amount to one hundred per diem.” +<i>Statistics, October, 1887.</i> +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:80%;"><a href="images/191.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/191.png" alt="Sergeant Punch (inspecting would-be ex-Unemployed)." /></a> +<p><i>Sergeant Punch (inspecting would-be ex-Unemployed).</i> +<span class="sc">“So, my Lad, you want to be a Constable! +Rather enforce the Law than break it, eh? That’s right! Hem! The Force has long been +undermanned. We must see if we can’t make room for you!”</span></p></div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Ne Plus Ulster.</span>—Mr. <span class="sc">Chamberlain</span> +seems to find the heart of the Irish Question in Ulster. Does he expect +to find its solution there? He appears to set little store by the wishes of those not inconsiderable portions of +Ireland which, as he says, “do not form a portion of the Ulster plantation.” +All other parts, even of the favoured province, “though geographically part of Ulster, +are not parts of what we know as political Ulster.” This certainly +narrows the Irish Question. But does it simplify it? We have all heard of those who are “more Irish +than the Irishmen themselves.” Mr. <span class="sc">Chamberlain</span> seems to be more Ulsterish than +the men of Ulster, though they, to be sure, on his own showing, are virtually English and Scotch. +In declining to look beyond Ulster, it may be asked whether he looks into the Irish Question at all. +Altogether Irish—very!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page192" id="page192"></a>[pg 192]</span></p> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<p><i>The Danvers Jewels</i>, published by <span class="sc">Richard +Bentley and Son</span>, and written by an anonymous +author who dedicates the work to his +sister “<span class="sc">Di</span>,” (from whom he received some +assistance in the story, otherwise he would +“never have said ‘<span class="sc">Di</span>’”) is a short and +well-told sensational novelette in a shilling +volume. There is a genuine vein of humour +running through it, which is so artistically +managed as at first to escape the reader’s +attention, who becoming more and more irritated +with the stupidity of the supposed +narrator, gradually discovers that the story +which is being recounted by a middle-aged +Indian Colonel, who prides himself on being +remarkably astute, and on possessing a perfectly +marvellous insight into character, is +being recounted by a conceited, shallow-pated +old ass. I think it a fault that at the very +last, by some such accident as being in an +assize town and being invited to sit on the +bench, he does not see the villain thoroughly +unmasked, placed in the dock, and condemned +to death, or at least penal servitude for life. +The story, excellent as it is, seems to me to +want this finish. By the way, why, for no +conceivable purpose, quote on the title-page +a line from the Old Testament which, as every +one remembering its context and after reading +the book must see, has no apparent bearing +on the subject? Mistake this.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:29%;"><a href="images/192-1.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/192-1.png" alt='A work by "Q."' /></a>A work by “Q.”</div> + +<p><i>Deadman’s Rock.</i> By “Q.” Have Messrs. +<span class="sc">Louis Stevenson</span> and <span class="sc">Rider Haggard</span> combined +under the signature of “Q.” to write +at all events the first part of the weird and +exciting Romance entitled <i>Deadman’s Rock</i>? +If not let those two authors look to their +laurels. There is much in this book to remind +the reader of <i>Treasure Island</i>, especially the +fiendish Sailor’s uncouth chaunt, “Sing hey +for the deadman’s eyes, my lads,” which, +however, is not a patch upon Mr. <span class="sc">Stevenson’s</span> +“Ho! Ho! Ho! and a bottle of rum,” in +<i>Treasure Island</i>. Then there is one line in +“Q.’s” story, “And here a strange thing +happened,” which must call to mind Mr. +<span class="sc">Rider Haggard’s</span> patent of “and now a +strange thing happened.” “Q.”—rious coincidence, +isn’t it? But a “coincidence” is +not likely to annoy Mr. <span class="sc">Haggard</span>.</p> + +<p>In the first part the most impatient reader +will find that he cannot afford to skip a couple +of lines without detriment to the narrative, +but in the second part he may skip handfuls, +as the lovemaking is common-place, and +time is wasted over the tragedy which is +written by one of the heroes, and over the +description of their life in London. But on +the other hand the scene in the gambling-house +is exciting and artistically worked up,—and +coming immediately after this, the lovemaking +is uncommonly tame,—and the scene +at the Theatre is also very good, but after +this there is a lull in the excitement until +the end approaches, when there is one very +strong situation. But the actual finish is +weak. So the summing up is that the first +part is first-rate, and the second part is, on +the whole, second-rate. But who is “Q.”?</p> + +<p>That is the Q. and what is the A.? <i>Deadman’s +Rock</i> is not a good book for very +nervous persons or children: for the latter +<i>Almond Rock</i> would be far preferable.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>THE MUSE IN MANACLES.</h2> + +<p>(<i>By an Envious and Irritable Bard, after reading +“Ballades and Rondeaus,” just published, +and wishing he could do anything like any +of them.</i>)</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Bored by the Ballade, vexed by Villanelle,</p> +<p>Of Rondeau tired, and Triolet as well!</p> + </div> + +<h3>THE BALLADE.</h3> + +<p>(<i>In Bad Weather.</i>)</p> + +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Oh! I’m in a terrible plight—</p> +<p class="i2">For how can I rhyme in the rain?</p> +<p>’Tis pouring from morn until night:</p> +<p class="i2">So bad is the weather again,</p> +<p class="i2">My language is almost profane!</p> +<p>Though shod with the useful galosh,</p> +<p class="i2">I’m racked with rheumatical pain—</p> +<p>I think that a Ballade is bosh!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I know I am looking a fright;</p> +<p class="i2">That knowledge, I know, is in vain;</p> +<p>My “brolly” is not water-tight,</p> +<p class="i2">But hopelessly rended in twain</p> +<p class="i2">And spoilt by the rude hurri<i>cane</i>!</p> +<p>Though clad in a stout mackintosh,</p> +<p class="i2">My temper I scarce can restrain—</p> +<p>I think that a Ballade is bosh!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Oh, I’m an unfortunate wight!</p> +<p class="i2">The damp is affecting my brain;</p> +<p>My woes I would gladly recite,</p> +<p class="i2">In phrases emphatic and plain,</p> +<p class="i2">Your sympathy could I obtain.</p> +<p>I don’t think my verses will wash,</p> +<p class="i2">They’re somewhat effete and inane—</p> +<p>I think that a Ballade is bosh!</p> + </div> + +<h4><span class="sc">Envoy.</span></h4> + +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I fancy I’m getting insane,</p> +<p class="i2">I’m over my ankles in slosh;</p> +<p>But let me repeat the refrain—</p> +<p class="i2">I think that a Ballade is bosh!</p> + </div> + +<h3>THE VILLANELLE.</h3> + +<p>(<i>With Vexation.</i>)</p> + +<div class="stanza"> +<p>I do not like the Villanelle,</p> +<p class="i2">I think it somewhat of a bore—</p> +<p>This tinkle of a Muffin-bell!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The reason why I cannot tell;</p> +<p class="i2">Each day I fancy, more and more,</p> +<p>I do not like the Villanelle!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>It makes me stamp and storm and yell,</p> +<p class="i2">It makes me wildly rage and roar:</p> +<p>This tinkle of a Muffin-bell!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>I look upon it as a sell,</p> +<p class="i2">Its use I constantly deplore;</p> +<p>I do not like the Villanelle!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Poetic thoughts it must dispel,</p> +<p class="i2">It very often tries me sore:</p> +<p>This tinkle of a Muffin-bell!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>For this I know, and know full well—</p> +<p class="i2">Let me repeat it o’er and o’er!—</p> +<p>I do not like the Villanelle,</p> +<p>This tinkle of a Muffin-bell!</p> + </div> + +<h3>THE TRIOLET.</h3> + +<p>(<i>In a Temper.</i>)</p> + +<div class="stanza"> +<p>A triolet’s scarcely the thing—</p> +<p class="i2">Unless you would carol in fetters!</p> +<p>If lark-like you freely would sing,</p> +<p>A Triolet’s scarcely the thing:</p> +<p>I miss the poetical ring,</p> +<p class="i2">I’m told that it has, by my betters!</p> +<p>A Triolet’s scarcely the thing—</p> +<p class="i2">Unless you would carol in fetters!</p> + </div> + +<h3>THE RONDEAU.</h3> + +<p>(<i>In a Rage.</i>)</p> + +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Pray tell me why we can’t agree</p> +<p>To bid the merry Muse run free?</p> +<p class="i2">Pray tell me why we should incline</p> +<p class="i2">To see her in a Rondeau pine,</p> +<p>Or sigh in shackled minstrelsy?</p> +<p>Why can’t she sing with lark-like glee,</p> +<p>And revel in bright <i>jeux d’esprit</i>?</p> +<p class="i2">Where form can’t fetter or confine—</p> +<p class="i6">Pray tell me why?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Pray tell me why that frisky gee,</p> +<p>Called Pegasus, should harnessed be?</p> +<p class="i2">Why bit and bridle should combine</p> +<p class="i2">To all his liveliness consign,—</p> +<p>To deck the Rondeau’s narrow line—</p> +<p class="i6">Pray tell me why?</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>BAD NEWS FOR TEA-DRINKERS.</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:21%;"><a href="images/192-2.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/192-2.png" alt="A Simple Clearance under Protest." /> +</a><p>A Simple Clearance under Protest.</p></div> + +<p>We learn from a report of the proceedings +of the City Commissioners of Sewers +last week, that +those vigilant +protectors of the +health of our +ancient City had +before them a +case that fairly +puzzled them, +and in its +strangeness and +difficulty would +probably have +puzzled even a +more judicial body than they probably pretend +to be. It would seem that they had +received a note of warning from the eminent +firm of <span class="sc">Francis Peek & Co.</span>, that a large +parcel of tea was about to be submitted to +public auction which was “simple filth,” +and utterly unfit for consumption.</p> + +<p>A Commissioner stated that he was present +at the Sale that morning, and that the whole +quantity, consisting of 1000 Chests, had been +sold, duty paid (it must have been cleared +at the Custom House with or without protest), +at one halfpenny per pound! The +natural expectation was that the “simple +filth” as it had been termed by experts, +would be at once seized by the officials and +destroyed, but this strange difficulty arose. +The Medical Officer of Health stated that he +had analyzed a sample of the tea in question, +and could not swear before a Magistrate +that it was unfit for use! He stated too, as +a specimen of the wisdom of our legislators, +that, by Act of Parliament, Tea was specially +exempted from the operations of Public +Analysts! So the willing Commissioners +found themselves powerless to act, but referred +the whole matter to their Sanitary +Committee, who, we understand, will at their +next meeting take tea, instead of luncheon, +made from the remains of the sample, and +report the result.</p> + +<p>In the meantime <i>Mr. Punch</i>, ever ready to +assist in a good cause, dispatched one of his +City young men to make further inquiries, +who reported that he had visited the Auction +Mart on three successive days at lunch-time, +and had asked one or two of the sharpest-looking +of the crowd, as possible purchasers +of the wondrous tea, to lunch with him, +which they had willingly done; but, although +he says he lunched them copiously, they one +and all denied any knowledge of the tea +sale in question.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>“<span class="sc">Shepherd <i>v.</i> Keevil.</span>”—<i>Mem</i>; Christian +maxim for a Pastor or Shepherd, “Do +not think eevil of your neighbour.”</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 50px;"> +<a href="images/192-3.png"><img src="images/192-3.png" width="50" height="30" alt="Pointing finger" /></a> +</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 class="full" /> + +<div class="trans-note"> +<h3>Transcriber’s notes</h3> + +<p>On page 181, “influenced” was missing the letter “d”, and on page 183, +“enliten” was missing its first “e”. These have been corrected.</p> + +<p>On page 185, “Gringore” was changed to “Gringoire” for consistency.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +93., October 22, 1887, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 37078-h.htm or 37078-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/0/7/37078/ + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer, +Nigel Blower and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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. 93., October 22, 1887 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: August 14, 2011 [EBook #37078] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + + + + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer, +Nigel Blower and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 93. + + + +October 22nd, 1887. + + + + +MR. PUNCH'S MANUAL FOR YOUNG RECITERS. + +[Illustration:] + +As has been observed earlier in this series, the Amateur Reciter is +influenced by a natural ambition to harrow his audience to the best of +his ability. + +And, be it said, the average audience is not at all averse to being +harrowed--provided this is done with any science and refinement. When +persons are met together for social enjoyment, nothing apparently +affords them keener pleasure than a performance which produces certain +peculiar sensations, such as the feeling of partial want of control +over the facial nerves, smarting behind the eyes, increasing +obstruction in the throat, and a general conviction that, unless +something occurs to make them laugh at once, they will be irresistibly +compelled to sob like so many seals. It is, perhaps, a little odd--but +the taste exists, and must be taken into account. The sole drawbacks +are that, too often, the means adopted to secure the desired result +depend more than should be upon sentiment which might almost be +described as false; that the incidents occasionally have too little +relation to real life; and that, what might have proved eminently +touching, is marred by some involuntary association with the ludicrous +and grotesque. In his anxiety to preserve his pupils from such +pitfalls as these, _Mr. Punch_ offers an example in which the +blemishes he has hinted at have been sedulously avoided. It is at once +homely, wholesome, and tear-compelling--like the common onion. You +will find you produce a favourable impression at once by announcing it +as,-- + +POSITIVELY THE LAST PERFORMANCE! + +(_You must come on with a general suggestion in your manner that +you are supposed to be the proprietor of an itinerant Cat and Canary +Troupe. Begin with a slow and somewhat depressed shake of the head, as +if in answer to imaginary inquirer._) + + No, we ain't performin' to-day, Sir, and the boys are all on the + gape + At seem' the mice in mournin', and the cats in chokers o' crape; + But I'm giving the Show a rest, d'ye see? for I didn't feel up to + the job, + (_Pause--then subdued_) For my leadin' comejian's left me, Sir-- + (_Explanatory, perceiving you are not understood_)--the brindle + kinairy--(_more impatiently_) Bob! + What, ye don't remember? (_Surprise._) Not him as wore the toonic + o' Turkey red? + What rode in a gilded kerridge with a 'at an' plumes on his 'ed? + And, as soon as we'd taken a tanner, 'ud fire a saloot from the + gun? [_Excitedly._ + There was Talent inside o' that bird, there was, or I never see it + in one! + (_Philosophic bitterness._) Well, he's soon forgot--but I've often + thought as a + _fish_ keeps longer than Fame! + (_Sudden comprehension and restored cordiality._) Oh, ye didn't + know him as _Bob_?... I see--no, that were his _private_ + name. + I used to announce him in public on a more long-winded-er scale-- + I christened him "Gineral Moultky," (_apologetically_) which he + _'ad_ rather gone at the tail; + And a bird more popilar never performed on a peripathetic stage, + He was allers sure of a round of applause as soon as he quitted + the cage! + For he thoroughly hentered into the part he was down for to play, + And he never got "fluffy" nor "queered the pitch,"--leastwise, + till the hother day. + I thought he'd bin hoverexertin' hisself, and 'ud better be out of + the bill, + But it wasn't till yesterday hevenin I'd any ideer he was _ill_! + Then I see he was rough on the top of his 'ed, and his tongue + looked dry at the tip, + And it dawned on me like a thunderbolt--"Great Evings!" I + groaned,--"THE PIP!" (_Pause here, to emphasise the + tremendous gravity of this discovery._) + Well, I _'ad_ bin trainin' a siskin to hunderstudy the part, + (_more ordinary tone for this_) + And I sent him on--(_tolerantly_)--which he done his best, but he + 'adn't no notion o' _Hart_! + So I left the pitch as soon as I could, and (meanin' to make more + 'aste) + I cut across one o' them buildin' sites as was left a runnin' to + waste. + There was yawning pits by the flinty road, as rendered the + prospeck dull, + And 'ere and there a winderless 'ouse, with the look of a grinning + skull, + (_Try to paint this scene visibly for the audience; background is + essential for what is to come._) + A storm had bin 'anging about all day (and it _broke_, you'll + remember, at last!) + So I 'urried on, it was gettin' late--and the Gineral sinking fast! + (_You are now approaching the harrowing part, but keep yourself in + reserve for the present._) + But all on a sudding I 'eard him give a kind of a feeble flap, + And I stops, and sez in a 'opeful way, "Why, you're up in yer + sterrups, old chap." + + (_A bold metapher applied to a bird, but characteristic in the + speaker._) + + (_Sink your voice._) Then I see by the look of his sorrowful eye + he was thinkin': "Afore I go, + I'd like to see one performance--for the last--of the dear old + Show!" + + (_Note, and make your audience feel, the touch of Nature here._) + + And I sez, with a ketch in my voice, "You _shall_!" and I whipped + the sheet off the board, + I stuck up the pair o' trestles, and fastened the tightrope cord; + Then I propped the Gineral up in a place from which he could see + the 'ole, + And I set the tabbies a-sparring, and the mice a-climbing the pole. + + (_Build up the whole scene gradually; the dreary neighbourhood, + the total absence of bystanders, the lurid threatening sky, and + the humble entertainment proceeding in the foreground._) + + I put my company through their tricks--and they made my hold eyes + dim, + For they never performed for no orjence like they did last night + for _him_! + Them tabbies sparred with a science you'd 'ardly expect from sich, + And the mouse (what usually boggles) fetched flags with never no + 'itch! + Aye, we worked the Show in that lonely place to the sound o' the + mutterin' storm, + Right through till we come to the finish--the part _he_ used to + perform. + He was out of the cage in a minnit--egged on by puffessional pride, + He pecked that incompitent siskin till he made him stand o' one + side! + Well, I felt like 'aving a good cry _then_--but the time + 'adn't come for that, + So I slipped his uniform over his 'ed, and tied on his little + cock-hat. [_With great tenderness._ + And he set in his tiny kerridge, and was drored along by the mice, + A-looking that 'appy and pleased with hisself, I got 'em to do it + twice! [_Tone of affectionate retrospection._ + The very tabbies they gazed on him then with their heyes dilatin' + in haw, + As he 'obbled along to the cannon, with the match in his wasted + claw! + I never 'eard that cannon afore give sech a tremenjious pop-- + (_Solemnly._) And a peal o' thunder responded, as seemed all over + the shop! + For a second Bob stood in the lightning, so noble, and bold, and + big;-- + Then ... a stagger ... a flutter ... a broken chirp--(_you can add + immensely to the effect here by a little appropriate action. + Pause,and give time for a solemn hush to fall upon the audience, + then, with a forced calm, as if you were doing violence to your + own feelings_)--he was orf, Sir,--(_a slight gulp_)--he'd 'opped + the twig! + + (_Second Pause: then more briskly, but still with strong + emotion to the close_) + + So now you've the hexplanation of the crape round the tabbies' + necks, + And kin understand why we close to-day "in token of our respecks." + + * * * * * + +The time has now come for _Mr. Punch_ to bid his pupils farewell, +which he does with a pleasure that he has some reason to hope will be +not unreciprocated. During the few months over which this course has +extended, he has made it his aim to furnish the young carpet-knight +for the fray as completely as possible, and, if the Amateur Reciter +be not (as some hold) already invulnerable, the panoply of pieces with +which he has been armed here should go far to render him so. + +All _Mr. Punch_ would ask in return is that, when any one of his young +friends is retiring, flushed with triumph, amidst an intoxicating +murmur of faint applause and renewed conversation, after delivering +some composition of his Preceptor's, he will not suffer himself to be +completely dazzled by success, but will remember the means which have +contributed thereto with such gratitude as he may be able to command. + + * * * * * + +"DISCOVERIES AT POMPEII."--Under this heading we read in the _Times_ +that four silver urns of fair size were found, also four smaller +vessels, eight open vases, four cups ornamented with leaves, &c. +"Urns" for hot water: "smaller vessels," tea-pots; "eight open vases," +sugar-basins; "four cups," tea-cups, "ornamented with leaves,"--very +fanciful design, probably tea-leaves,--and there we have before us +"Five o'clock Tea, as known to the Ladies of Pompeii." + + * * * * * + +THE LEGION OF DISHONOUR. + +[Illustration] + +_The Modern Autolycus sings_:-- + + When parvenus begin to peer, + With heigh! the ribbon on the coat! + Why, then the love of rank shines clear, + In base-blood, spite of the People's vote. + + The medal gleaming on the breast! + With heigh! the red coins how they ring! + The Citizens clamour with eager zest, + Despite their hate of crown and king! + + The _bourgeois_ soul star-honours wants, + With heigh! the peacock-aping jay! + The hunger for honours finds singular haunts, + Their sale is a traffic that's bound to pay. + +I have served Princes, and, in my time, worn Imperial livery, but now +I am in the Republic's service. + + But shall I mourn for that, or fear? + Gold glitters, silver's bright, + And decorations not _too_ dear + Citizen-souls delight. + + If pedlars may have leave to live, + Though "honours" cram their budget, + A good account I yet may give; + If caught,--I can but trudge it! + + Ribbons of all colours, lo! + Crosses--mark their gleam and glow! + Blue as violets, red as roses, + Buy them swift whilst power dozes! + Decorated thus you'll clamber + To court-height or lady's chamber. + Golden talismans are these. + _Parvenus_ may pass with ease + With these gauds to heights the leal + Buy with brain or stainless steel. + Come buy of me, come buy, come buy! + Cheap "honours" now is all the cry! + Buy ribbons--like tape, + Blue blood you may ape, + They're dainty, and not too dear-a! + With peers you may tread, + Yet hold up your head, + They're the newest and finest of wear-a! + Come to the pedlar, + Money's a meddler, + That gets _all_ men by the ear-a! + + [_Has HIS ear suddenly pulled by Madame La Republique._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: RETALIATION. + +_Cabby._ "WHA'S THIS FOR, LADY? WHICH MY FARE'S TWO SHILL----" + +_Old Lady (quite able to take care of herself)._ "I BEG YOUR PARDON, +CABMAN. I KNOW THE DISTANCE--IT'S NOT THREE MILES BY TWO HUNDRED +YARDS. PLEASE KNOCK AT THE----" + +_Cabby._ "UGH! Y' 'ON'T HEV A DOUBLE KNOCK, I CAN TELL YER THAT!"] + + * * * * * + +ROBERT ON SPELLING. + +I've bin informed, on such orthority as I carnt for a moment dout, +wiz., Professor BASSINGHAM of the White Cross Brigade, that a cumpany +has bin formed in Amerrikey to perswade hewerybody as writes English +to spell it as I does. I never knowd afore but what I spelt my +spelling like other littery gennelmen, but I'm told now that I don't, +but that I spells it more nateral like, and so it appears that after +about 2 years thinkin of it over, the gratest Orthers in Amerrykey has +all resolved to follow my nobel xample and do as I does, as neer as +they can git to it. So they has formed theirselves into the "Spelling +Reform Association," and has got a Presedent, and Wise Presidents, +and a Counsel, and a Seketerry, and all the blooming luxurys of a rich +Cumpany, and has jest published their fust Number and charges fore +shillins for it, as I nose to my corst, cos I've jest bin and bort +one. + +Well, having jest a lezzure hour or 2, I've bin a trying to read my +noo book, witch is suttenly to me a dear book, but I greeves to say +as I don't find werry much in it, as I understands. They suttenly uses +sum werry powerful words, and sez sum werry powerful things, and +tries their werry best to spell like me, but I don't think as I can +troothfully say as they always suckeeds. They spels _hed_ like me, and +_helth_, and _dropt_, and _enuf_; but who ever seed me use sitch words +as _thru_, or _cof_, or _thuro_, or _tuf_, or _ughly_? + +Professor CHADBAND, L.L.D., says that "our senseless spelling makes +him ashamed of his language, and yet thru habit he continues it." +DAVID D. FIELD, L.L.D., of New York, talks of our Nobel English Tung +"being disfigured," and says I ought to be haild as a deliverer! + +Professor HADLEY says, "our language is shockingly speld." Lord LYTTON +says, "it is a lying round-about puzl-heded delusion!" and our own +heloqwent Sir C. E. TREVELYAN, K.C.B., says, "it is a labyrinth, a +chaos, an absurdity, and a disgrace!" and the Hedditer of the book +winds it all up by saying that "it is the wurst there is!" Poor old +English Langwidge! I ony wonders how SHAKESPEAR and MILTON, and +BURNS managed to get on with it, tho suttenly BURNS was a dredful +bad speller. Why he used to spell "who" _wha_, and "have" _hae_, and +"whom" _wham_! But then he was only a poor plowman, and not an Hed +Waiter. I of coarse little thort wen I fust commenced my umbel efforts +to instruckt and enliten the world with skimmings from my daily +dairy, that I shood ever be held up to the admirashun and gratitood of +English mankind as a deliverer of our nobel English Tung from its +many defecks, but I of course acceps the pursishun, and, I ope, with +becoming umility, and if the Spelling Reform Association chooses, as +seems ony nateral, to elect me as one of their Wice Presidents, with a +nice cumferal little salary paid quarterly, in adwance, I shall not at +all object to become also one of their regular contribbuters, or ewen +to hedit sum of their harticles as is really not quite hup to the mark +in the spelling line. + +Professor F. J. CHILD, P.D., L.H.D., cums it rayther strong when he +says, "Sum hav a religious aw, and sum hay an erth-born passion for +our establisht spelling. I don't much care how anybody spells, so +he spels different from that." But praps one of the werry greatest +staggerers in my four-shilling staggering book, is what the Heditter +says, wiz., "A filologist who should uphold our present mode of +spelling, would be like an astronomer who should teach that the Erth +is based on a Turtl." + +I think that's about the most wunderfullest sentense as ewen a +Hedhitter ever wrote, and they does sumtimes cum out with a startler +or 2. Fust with regard to the spelling. As I don't in the least know +what a Filologist means I carnt of course say much as to that, but if +there is one mortal thing in this butiful world of ours as I does know +sumthink about, I should think as all the ciwilized world woud agree +as it was Turtle, and I refuses at once, without no manner of dowt, +to pardon the man who coud carmly and cooly sit down and write that +almost sacred name without his final Hee! Turtl, indeed! why it amost +makes me shudder as I rites it down; and jest before Lord Mare's Day +too, why it's hadding hinsult to hinjury. But ewen that isn't all the +marwels of this most egstrordinary sentense. What in the world can he +mean by saying as the world is based on a Turtl? + +Of course no one can posserbly know better nor me, that without that +glorious addition to a gorgeous _Manu_, the werry hiest classes of +society, such as Princes, and Lord Mares, and Bishops, and Aldermen, +woud find it remarkabel difficult to git through their harduous +dooties, but ewen I should never have once thort of saying that the +hole world is _based_ upon it, which I spose means, carnt posserbly +git on without it. No, if there's one thing as I strongly objecs to, +it's xaggerashun, and in this werry partickler case I boldly charges +it against the Hedhitter of "Spelling," price four shillings, even +though he and his frends does do me the hi honour of holding me hup as +a bennyfacter to all English spelling races. + + ROBERT. + +Pose Cript.--I sees as how a gent of the xstrordinary name of "EIZAK +PITMAN" has been and gorn and rote to the _Times_ on this werry same +subjeck as me; but I'm two busy jest now with prepperrations for the +himportantest of all days--need I say the Ninth of Nowember--to be +abel to give all my hole mind to it, as it seems to require. But I at +once, without not no hezzytation and dowt, gives my caudial assent +to his Golden Rule, wiz: "When in dout, selekt the werry simpletonest +spelling." + + R. + + * * * * * + +"IRISH PROSECUTIONS."--In the _Times_ of Friday last, under the +foregoing heading, that most contentious and sledge-hammering +correspondent, Lord BRAMWELL, came down heavily, very heavily, on the +unfortunate "American Lawyer," Mr. MUNDY, who had presumed to express +an opinion opposed to that of my Lord BRAMWELL. Of course, after this, +there's an end of the American Lawyer, and, at all events, up to +the date abovementioned, Lord BRAMWELL may say, triumphantly, "_Sic +transit gloria Mundy!_" + + * * * * * + +THE LETTER-BAG OF TOBY, M.P. + +FROM A YOUNG MAN STILL IN THE COUNTRY. + + _Eaton Hall, Saturday._ + +[Illustration:] + +DEAR TOBY,--I write to you from here where I stay a day or two on my +way to Dublin. I expect by the time it reaches you I will be installed +in the Chief Secretary's Lodge, and the National League may prepare to +sit up. I have been spending a week or two very agreeably in Scotland, +a little out of the way of letters or newspapers. I am told there has +been quite a demand for me, a sort of popular outcry that I should +forthwith proceed to Ireland. This is, of course, not unflattering. +It indicates a general belief which I, for one, am not disposed to +contest, that if Ireland is to be saved, I'm the man to do it. That's +all very well; but it is, doncha know, something of a boah to be thus +bothered at a time when one had two or three pleasant engagements on +hand. It used to be just the same in the House last Session. If I did +not really live there, entering with the Mace and the SPEAKER, and +leaving only at the cry of "Who goes home?" there were impetuous +protests. I put in KING-HARMAN at Question time, but they wouldn't +have him. Often, as I lay on the sofa in the Chief Secretary's room, +looking over _Punch_, or reading the proofs of the forthcoming new +edition of my _Defence of Philosophic Doubt_, I have heard the distant +growls of the Irish Members when KING-HARMAN rose to answer a question +addressed to me. Quite touching this personal attachment. At the same +time a little embarrassing. + +Now I am really going to Dublin, and shall spend a cheerful November +there. GRANDOLPH, in his genial way, has tried to make things pleasant +by reminding me that from the drawing-room window of the Chief +Secretary's Lodge I can see the place where poor FREDDY CAVENDISH +fell. "They're sure to take a pot shot at you," he says; "but you're +all right. Unless a man can make sure of hitting a lamp-post at +fifty paces, it will be no use his trying to bring you down." A nice +companionable man GRANDOLPH. Always tries to say something pleasant. +But really I don't pay much attention to his kindly apprehensions. I +shall be boahed, I daresay; but not by the passage of a bullet, or the +thrust of a knife. + +People evidently expect great things to follow on my arrival in +Dublin. To the accident of my holiday absence in Scotland they +attribute all the failures of the Executive. "If BALFOUR had been +there," they say, "W. O'BRIEN would now be comfortably in gaol and T. +D. S., Lord Mayor, would be laid by the heels." I weally don't +know. Fact is, I have not closely followed up affairs either in the +newspapers or despatches. There have been some rows, I understand. +But that is not unusual in Ireland. Where people are right in +kindly looking to me to restore peace and order in Ireland is in the +supposition that I have a plan. That is true, though I cannot claim +personal and private property in it. Fact is the plan is CROMWELL'S. +It worked admirably when originally put in practice, and I do not see +any reason why it should fail now. There are, of course, difficulties +in the way; prejudice to be overcome, legal forms to be dealt with, +and that sort of thing. There is also, next Session of Parliament to +be met, and awkward questions by TIM HEALY and the rest. But they +need not think to intimidate me by such reflections. I shall put +up KING-HARMAN to answer all inconvenient questions. Besides, it is +exceedingly probable that in the full development of my plan the Irish +Members who last Session distinguished themselves by "wanting to know" +will be unavoidably absent from their places. It is an awful nuisance +breaking in upon a man's holiday; but it is a difficulty that has to +be faced, and as there seems a popular inclination to look to me to +settle it, I suppose there is nothing to be done but to grapple with +it. + +One additional drawback from a quite unexpected source makes itself +known by correspondence with my colleagues. They are all in a dreadful +state of fussy alarm. My uncle the Markiss begs me to be careful. +"Firmness without Rashness" is an excellent copy-head, which W. H. +SMITH sends me in fine round-hand from the distant Mediterranean. I +wish they'd all mind their own affairs. In the intervals of my other +occupations I can answer for Ireland, and if any awkwardness arises, I +can put up KING-HARMAN to answer for me. So, dear TOBY, don't you +have any anxiety on my account. Some half-hour after dinner, with the +contemplative toothpick at hand, and my heels on the table, I will, if +the subject occurs to me, settle the Irish Question. + + Yours faithfully, + + ARTH-R B-LF-R. + + * * * * * + +BIG WORK AND LITTLE HANDS. + +That a child prodigy should have been able twice last week to fill St. +James's Hall to overflowing, may not perhaps speak at the first glance +very highly for the artistic instincts of the British Public, who, as +a thoughtful musical critic remarks in the pages of a contemporary, +are sometimes "more impressed by a little boy in an Eton jacket +than by the finest music that might be played in less exciting +circumstances;" still it cannot be denied that the couple of recitals +referred to, given by Master JOSEF HOFMANN, were altogether two +exceptionally brilliant performances. Commenting, however, on the +little fellow's efforts to give a good rendering of a slow movement, +the critic already alluded to asks how, in a long-drawn melody which +is a matter of passion and of feeling, "a child of eleven can have +much feeling or any passion?" Surely this is hypercriticism. Ask any +boy of eleven who has had a whipping, or has come off second best in a +fight with his little sister, whether he hasn't much feeling;--and as +for passion! Well: but, perhaps this is not exactly what the critic +means. Nevertheless, he proceeds rather pertinently to ask whether +this singularly gifted young artist will be suffered, "when he has +served the immediate purposes of those who have control over him, +to continue his studies in a rational manner and far from the +fierce light and the hot-house temperature pertaining to the concert +platform?" As Master JOSEF HOFMANN is already booked for an American +tour, there does not seem any prospect of this highly desirable +consummation, at least in the near future. Judging, therefore, from +little Master JOSEF'S present arrangements, one would be disposed to +apostrophise him sympathetically in the language of Dr. WATTS, and +say:-- + + "Night after night, you'll prove a sight + To draw the cute Yankee, + Because your little hands were made + To stretch from C to C!" + +Still, as he is an unquestionable genius who has a future before +him, it is to be hoped that he won't be "worked out" early at high +pressure, and stimulated by a success that will only blunt his powers +by depriving him of that desire for true progress in his art by which +alone they can be legitimately developed. "Not too much gaslight, some +practice, and plenty of battledore and shuttlecock," is the proper +_recipe_ for little Master JOSEF. With this he can't go wrong, and +will, without doubt, if he stick to it, command the musical world of +the future as surely as he has astonished that of to-day. + + * * * * * + +"NO MORE SEA-SICKNESS!" NO MORE "BAD QUARTERS-OF-AN-HOUR" IN CROSSING +THE CHANNEL! Try Mons. M. L. MAYER'S Remedy, to be provided on October +24 up to the middle of November, and probably longer, if all goes +well, at the Remedy Theatre--no--at the Royalty Theatre, where he +intends giving a season of French plays, and brings M. COQUELIN, Mmes. +CHAUMONT and JANE MAY,--not all at once but one at a time,--over to +afford amusement to those Londoners who can't afford amusement +in Paris, or who object to the sea-passage, or who cannot spare +sufficient time for the trip. M. COQUELIN has with him a fair-sized +bag of tricks which includes, among other things, _Don Caesar de +Bazan_, and he means to devote three-fourths of one evening's +entertainment to monologues, among which, Mr. BEERBOHM TREE will be +delighted to hear, is announced _Gringoire_. M. MAYER, will of course, +see that his stars are well supported, and the public, delighted to +save the sea-voyage, will support M. MAYER. + + * * * * * + +SHOWS VIEWS. + +_By Victor Who-goes-Everywhere._ + +[Illustration] + +THE suggestion made a month ago by a "Salubrity Abroad," (now happily +a "Salubrity at home") that the above title would make a good heading +for an all-round-about theatrical and entertainment article in _Mr. +Punch's_ pages, is at length carried out. In the character of a hero +conquering difficulties, I have been here, there, and everywhere. My +first triumph was at the Gaiety Theatre, where (after surmounting all +obstruction) I secured a place from whence _Miss Esmeralda_ could be +watched in comfort. This piece is called a "melodramatic burlesque," +in two Acts, but I confess I failed to distinguish either the +melodrama or the burlesque. It was, however, well mounted with +good scenery and pretty dresses. It had further the advantage of an +excellent stage-manager in Mr. CHARLES HARRIS, and a no less excellent +dance inventor in Mr. JOHN D'AUBAN, but of the book the less that is +said the better. Frankly, it is not amusing. This being the case I +was not surprised to find the names of its authors printed in the +programme in a type just half the size accorded to the style and title +of "the producer." The acting calls for no particular comment. Mr. +LONNEN sings an Irish song excellently well, but is less diverting +when he trusts to attitudinising as a provocative to merriment. Miss +MARION HOOD'S charming face is sweeter than her voice, and Miss FANNIE +LESLIE'S singing is as welcome now as ever it was--it recalls many +a vocal triumph of the past. Mr. GEORGE STONE as _Gringoire_ is more +broadly comic than Mr. BEERBOHM TREE in a somewhat similar _role_ in +the _Ballad Monger_. Both the Misses BLANCHE are all that could be +desired in two subordinate characters. In the last Act there is a +"Pyramid Ballet,"--which is slightly perplexing. Until my attention +was pointedly called to the fact that I was watching a terpischorean +demonstration of a game of billiards, I was under the impression that +some of the intricacies of the plot of VICTOR HUGO'S _Notre Dame_ +were being very cleverly explained to me in easily followed dumb show. +Perhaps the best thing (barring the Irish song) in the whole piece +is an ingenious dance of Warders and Prisoners in Scene I., Act 2. In +alluding to the list of the company I should not have forgotten to +say that the names of that admirable comedian Mr. H. LESLIE and that +evergreen queen of burlesque, Miss E. FARREN, are conspicuous by +their absence. In spite of this very serious drawback, no doubt Miss +_Esmeralda_ will be as successful as it deserves to be. The scenery, +dresses, and music, are alone worth a visit. And when I say this I +leave out the acting, the singing and the dancing. + +I also went to the Royal Aquarium the other afternoon, and witnessed +the performances of a troupe of genuine Russian Wolves. If I _had_ to +appear in public myself with a company of performing animals, I think +I should prefer poodles, or white mice, though, as a spectacle, wolves +are undoubtedly more thrilling. I don't know that these particular +wolves did much; but the really striking fact, of course, was their +condescension in doing anything, and it was certainly "pretty to see" +them jumping a gate, and arranging themselves picturesquely on chairs, +with just sufficient display of grinning jaws to make the audience +congratulate themselves that the stage was fenced round by temporary +iron railings. The creatures are evidently deeply attached to the +Professor, who has so ably prepared them for public life. I was +convinced of this by the effusion with which one after another +advanced and kissed his forehead, on receiving a slight hint to that +effect from a whip. But to be kissed--however tenderly--by a wolf, +must be a creepy sensation. On the occasion when I was present we were +afforded an additional, and I may say an unrehearsed, sensation after +the act-drop fell. There was a scurry behind, a shout, and then--a +great jagged rent in the curtain. People in the front row of stalls +looked uncomfortable--it did seem very much as if one of the wolves +had determined to "take a call" on his own account, but it was merely +a little mishap with one of the railings. However, there was no real +cause for alarm in any case, for an audience would have had ample +time to escape while the wolf was amusing himself with the orchestra, +which, fortunately, is a remarkably good one. + +After the Wolves, by way of contrast, I paid a visit to La Belle +FATMA. On delivery of a shilling, I, with other members of the Public, +was passed in to a screened-off portion of the Imperial Theatre. A +stout French gentleman seated himself at a piano below the stage, and +the curtain rose presently, disclosing the fair FATMA and her troupe +seated in a row, like a new variety of Christy Minstrels. With regard +to the principal lady, I am bound to say that her charms did not seem +to me to have been at all overestimated, and her portraits upon the +posters actually do her less than justice. But this is a matter of +opinion; and I must confess that, after all, it was not upon the +peerless FATMA that my eyes were most riveted. There was a stout +old lady in a turban, two places from her--_such_ an old lady! with +immense black eyebrows, meeting over flashing dark eyes, and a massive +Oriental nose, a wide sternly compressed mouth, and three chins. Upon +her knees she held a gourd-shaped drum, which she smacked severely +at intervals; she might have sat for CORNELIA polishing one of her +"jewels"; and when she sang, the illusion was complete! + +As to the performance, it was Oriental; and no description can +convey much more. We had an Overture on the familiar "Rum-tum-tum, +tum-a-tum-tum-tum, tum-a-tum" theme, which revealed considerable +"staying power" on both sides of the footlights. Then one member of +the _troupe_ after another advanced, and, if a lady, _chasse_'d and +revolved with slowly waving arms, and an expression that seemed to +imply that she would take more pains if it were only worth while; if +a man, he capered and grinned and shouted in a manner which, at all +events, infinitely amused the performer himself. While this was going +on, the old lady continued to "spank"--there really is no better term +for it--her drum in a sort of grim _reverie_, and a young person +by her side emitted piercing shrieks by way of enlivening the +proceedings. There was a mysterious One on the stage, who reminded me +of an immense dice-box muffled in muslin; this, it turned out, was the +COLOSSUS of SOUSSE, to whom was entrusted the function of "presenting" +Mademoiselle FATMA at the close of the performance. This seemed +superfluous, particularly as the excellent Colossus had no notion of +doing more than taking her by the hand and stalking two paces forward. +It was all over in a quarter of an hour or so; and, for my own part, I +considered the old lady in the turban alone worth the paltry shilling +charged for admission. + +I have also been to TERRY'S Theatre, where great precautions are taken +to prevent fire. Everything, more or less, is labelled "Exit," and, +instead of doors, in several parts of the house there are curtains. +On the whole it must be a good theatre to escape from. This is worth +noting, if the performances are wearisome. + + * * * * * + +BALLADE OF THE TIMID BARD. + +(_To Angelica, who bids him publish._) + + In Memory's mystical hazes + I see a vast Gander and grey, + I see the small boy that he chases + At the head of a hissing array: + How I wept when they brought me to bay, + How I pleaded in vain for a truce! + Too frightened to shoo them away, + I could never say Boh to a Goose! + + I have lived through a number of phases, + I have rhymed of the grave and the gay, + But the clatter of critical phrases, + But the moralist armed for the fray, + I have fled in unseemly dismay, + Since the Gander--'tis all my excuse-- + For, in brief, since that terrible day-- + I could never say Boh to a Goose! + + It was fabled of old that in places + Grow goose-bearing trees by the way, + Where bough within bough interlaces + Green geese flutter down from the spray; + In reviews, at first nights of the play, + These shrubs are in general use, + And I would not encounter them, nay, + I could _never_ say Boh to a Goose! + +_Envoy._ + + ANGELICA! bid me essay + The deeds of a WALLACE or BRUCE, + But talk not of _publishing_, pray-- + I could never say Boh to a Goose! + + * * * * * + +IRISH APPOINTMENT EXTRAORDINARY (_subject to the kind permission +of Sir Bernard Burke, C.B., LL.D._).--The Right Hon. JOSEPH +O'CHAMBERLAIN, M.P., to be Ulster-King-of-Arms. + + * * * * * + +NOTE BY AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS, AFTER THE GRANTING OF THE LICENCE TO +THE EMPIRE THEATRE.--"_L'Empire c'est la_ pay 46 per cent.--like the +Alhambra." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID. + +_Professor Chatterleigh._ "BY GEORGE! I'M SO HUNGRY I CAN'T _TALK!_" + +_Fair Hostess (on hospitable thoughts intent)._ "OH, I'M _SO_ GLAD!"] + + * * * * * + +THE MESSENGER OF PEACE. + +(_With apologies to the Shade of the Author of "Al Aarof."_) + + [I have read ... that I have come to Ulster to revive + religious bigotry, to rekindle the embers of party strife, + and to revive ancient feuds which are now in a fair way to + be forgotten. I can assure you that these are not the objects + which I propose to myself. (_Laughter._)--_Report of Mr. + Chamberlain's Speech in Belfast._] + +_Erin's Guardian Angel sings_:-- + + I came (by the steamer) + A cross the wild spray. + No bigot, no dreamer, + To moon time away. + BRIGHT lingers to ponder, + And make tart replies; + But I come, from yonder, + Drawn down from the skies. + With love I am laden, + Peace sits on my brow. + No, sweet Ulster maiden, + My game is _not_ row! + Arise! from your dreaming, + In bright Orange bowers, + To duties beseeming, + Your fame and past powers. + My presence expresses + My fondness for you; + (My game no one guesses, + They read it askew) + Oh, how without you, love, + Can Ireland be blest? + _You_'re loyal, _you_'re true, love, + Mad traitors the rest. + I shake from my wing + Each hindering thing. + The black Parnellite + Would weigh down my flight. + The G. O. M.'s messes, + I leave them apart, + His lures and his jesses, + His tricks and his art. + + W. G.! W. G.! Ah! + My old artful one, + You had an idea + With you I should run. + No! it is my will + On the breezes to toss + At caprice, or be still + Like a lone albatross. + Daring duckling? That's past! + Stormy petrel? That's flown! + I'm a halcyon at last, + A new _role_,--and my own! + + W. G. Ah! Whoever + Thine "items" may be, + For ever I sever + My fortunes from thee. + Thou hast bound many eyes + In sophistical sleep, + But the angel that flies + Will _thy_ vigilance keep? + O Walker! (Again + A rhetorical flower + From thy full-teeming brain!) + I have passed a brief hour + In those same cipherings + Which you fudge--let that pass! + But my own view of things + Is not modell'd, alas! + On _yours_--none of the clearest-- + But then, that's your way-- + 'Tis one of the queerest; + _Do_ you find it pay? + Ah! love moved the smiles + That beamed forth on my rest + On the greenest of Isles. + Its _Scotch_ natives are best, + For they have in their keeping + Its wealth and its trade, + And Sedition, unsleeping, + Has spoilt, I'm afraid, + The true Pat of the Island. + _He_ burns to be free, + His bosom holds guile, and + His bonnet a bee. + Go to! Let them slumber, + The Home-Ruling lot + Are not the huge number + They tell us--that's rot! + I came to awaken, + An Angel of Peace! + I'm bound to be taken + For such ere I cease. + PARNELL'S spell makes PAT slumber, + Its witchery is test, + And your Orange-host's number + Must manage the rest! + + * * * * * + +A PROTEST. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--Will you please ask the _Times_ not to allow such +unpleasant subjects to be introduced into its columns as there was +last Wednesday,--that is, judging by the heading on page 8, "The Birch +and the Primitive Seat," which of course none of us fellows read (one +line of it was enough for me), and if there is another of the sort, we +shall vote that the _Times_ isn't taken in here in future, and I don't +think the _Times_ would like that. A word from you will be sufficient, +I am sure. + + Your Constant Reader, + + UPPER LOWER MIDDLETON. + + _Eton College, Bucks, near Windsor, England._ + + * * * * * + +Mrs. RAM says she couldn't stop in an out-of-the-way country-place, +give up society, and live like a Helmet in the desert. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE MESSENGER OF PEACE.] + + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: BRITISH FRENCH. + +_Emily._ "ASK HER TO GIVE US SOME MORE OF HER _SACRED_ MUSIC, GEORGE!" + +_George (a linguist)._ "OH, MADEMOISELLE, DONNEZ-NOUS ENCORE DE VOTRE +SACREE MUSIQUE."] + + * * * * * + +JOE'S JAUNT. + +_Off to Ireland!_--At last. COLLINGS with me, of course:--rather +grumpy, because SALISBURY'S got the credit of passing the Allotments +Bill, instead of himself. Still, JESSE better than nobody. Would +create bad impression to visit Belfast without an _entourage_. + +_In Steamer._--Look up my Irish History--or rather, JESSE'S Irish +History, which he's borrowed from Birmingham Free Library. An Alderman +_can_ do that sort of thing. Also examine revolver. Not accustomed to +carrying one. What is the best place for it? JESSE says, "left-hand +coat-tail pocket, decidedly, because then you can whip it out in +a twinkling." JESSE'S confidence contagious--he talks as if he +had always been in the habit of "whipping-out" revolvers, like a +cow-boy,--or a "three-acres-and-a-cow-boy." Do as he advises. +Very uncomfortable feeling. Sit down on revolver in a moment of +forgetfulness, and nearly blow Captain's head off. Captain irritated. +Asks me for "ransom." Ridiculous! + +_Belfast._--No end of a reception. Drive through the principal +streets. Enthusiastic populace insist on taking horses out of carriage +and pulling it themselves. Gratifying, but should feel safer with the +horses. Why _will_ COLLINGS bow? I'm the person to bow, obviously. +Bad taste, but don't like to stop him. Believe the mob _take_ him for +me--or why do they cheer him so? + +_At Hotel._--Just found out reason of enthusiasm evoked by appearance +of JESSE. _He's got on an Orange tie!_ Ask him, reproachfully, why +he did this? Pretends it was a mere accident--forgot that orange was +favourite Ulster colour. Don't want a religious riot, so make him take +it off. JESSE getting grumpier. Can't help it. + +_Evening._--Before going to meeting, had better find out what +Belfast chiefly famous for. Ask COLLINGS. Replies "linen-shirts and +handkerchiefs." Try to put him in good humour by remarking that "_he_ +seems shirty." Is there no other historical fact connected with place? +"Yes," he replies, "visit of Lord RANDOLPH CHURCHILL." Wish he hadn't +mentioned latter event. Dispiriting. Reminds one of proposed National +Party, with self and RANDOLPH as sole leaders--and sole followers, +too, it seems. + +_At Hotel--after Speech._--Great success. Felt horribly inclined to +start another Home Rule plan--my fifth--but fortunately refrained. +Instead of dismemberment of Empire, I offered more Members to Ulster. +Ulster people saw the justice of this arrangement at once. Told 'em +there were "two Irelands." Isn't one Ireland enough, however? + +_Coleraine._--A triumphal arch, with "Welcome to English Peasant +Emancipators" on it. Stupid to bracket COLLINGS with me in this way. +Receive threatening letter. Reminds me of my revolver. JESSE examines +it with the air of a professional gunsmith, critically. Appears quite +hurt at its condition; says, "I've sat on it so often he doubts if it +would go off now," and recommends my carrying a "bowie-knife" instead. +Am surprised at JESSE'S acquaintance with deadly weapons. Ask him what +historical event took place at Coleraine. Says he doesn't know and +doesn't care. But what's he here for except to keep me posted up in +local details? Hint to him that "I hope I may be able to offer him +post of President of Local Government Board in my future Ministry." +Replies (rudely, I think) that "he'll wait till I'm asked to form +one." _Query_--doesn't air of Ulster exercise demoralising effect on +English politicians? Is this the "Ulster Custom" one's heard so much +about? RANDOLPH a case in point. + +_Back again._--Coleraine speech excellent, though I say it, as +shouldn't. Cheered to the echo. So was JESSE, hang him! Shan't take +_him_ to Canada with me. Now for a study of the habits of deep-sea +fish in the pages of a Natural Science Primer. + + * * * * * + +AN AUTUMN LAY. + +(_By a Belated Oarsman._) + + Come, little Maid, to the cracked piano, + The semi-grand in the coffee-room; + We'll take your harmonies all _cum grano_, + For the strings vibrate like the crack of doom. + Over the lawn the flat clouds loom, + And when they lighten the rain falls faster; + Like gossips who relish a friend's disaster + The ducks quack loud in the rain-ruled gloom. + + I've studied the cracks in the ceiling-plaster, + And the statuettes with their stolid leer, + And the landscape visions of some Young Master, + Who viewed the world through a haze of beer. + We've done as much with the hostel's cheer + As sane men may _in corpore sano_; + So come, little Maid, to the cracked piano. + Play us "_The Battle of Prague_," my dear. + + The silence clouds, like a potion shaken, + As the limp strings jar to an ancient pain; + Their light and sweetness no touch can waken, + And only the dregs of a tone remain. + The silk-sewn music with fray and stain + Swoons on the keys at the urgent stages, + And the little Maid, as she props the pages, + Just murmurs, "Bother!" and starts again. + + And the streaming window again engages + The thoughts that stray from the field of Prague; + And the moping birds in their gauze-girt cages, + And the wax-work fruits of a genus vague; + And the flies that buzz like a lazy plague + Round the lone lorn jam, as it stands forsaken; + And the varnished pike in the mill-pool taken + About the year that they fought at Prague. + + But twilight falls, and its folds encumber + The misty mounds of the patient trees, + And sunset cheers with a touch of umber + The puddles of steel-gray Gruyere cheese. + And, interposing a little ease, + Our frail thoughts dally with false surmises + Of a morning as brilliant as mid July's is + With bravest sunshine and sweetest breeze. + + A soothing silence the soul surprises, + For the little Maid, like a hero true, + Has fought her fight through its poignant crises, + And shown what practice can dare and do. + And, tearing the moonlight in handfuls through, + A giant arm in the cloudland sombre + Scatters the light on a world of slumber, + Through snowy craters, from gulfs of blue. + + * * * * * + +BOGEY IN BOND STREET. + +(_A Legend of the Grosvenor Gallery._) + +[Illustration] + +The Spirit of Art glided through the streets of Modern London, seeking +a resting-place. She entered the Diploma Gallery of the Royal Academy, +but hurried away, affrighted at some of the terrible examples of the +illustrious Forty. + +"And these are the greatest English painters!" she murmured--"the +countrymen of SHAKSPEARE, MILTON, and ADDISON, TENNYSON, MACAULAY, and +DICKENS! How is it that Painting cannot keep pace with Literature?" + +It sounded like a Conundrum, and the Spirit of Art was not good +at Conundrums. So she gave it up. Then she passed into other +Exhibitions--there were quite a dozen in the neighbourhood at the +very least. But she was unsatisfied, and came away. She paused, and +considered. The Spirit of Art had one great English friend (of Irish +extraction), who was a Musician. + +"ARTHUR is a clever fellow," said the Spirit of Art to herself--there +was no one else to speak to--"and if he _does_ compose more comic +Operas than Oratorios, it is, I suppose, because there is a greater +demand for the former than the latter." + +From this it will be seen the Spirit of Art had, on the whole, a +good head for business. "Now," continued the Representative of the +Beautiful, "I distinctly recollect that the words to one of the songs +of my friend ARTHUR contained a pointed reference to the Greenery +Yallery Gallery. I fancy, from all I have heard, that the sort of +thing I want will be found in the Greenery Yallery Gallery." + +She was quite pleased at the notion. To tell the truth the Spirit of +Art was rather weary of perambulating the streets of London--not even +the advertisements of BUFFALO BILL on the hoardings gave her lasting +satisfaction. + +"Let me consider," she said, as she hovered on the threshold of the +Grosvenor Gallery, "now I shall find myself amongst the grandest works +of Mister JONES. I am never tired of that pale face with the pointed +chin--no more is Mister JONES. This frequently-reproduced portrait of +a lady is most interesting. No doubt it is a study of a chronic case +of dyspepsia that must have lasted for twenty years. Then I shall see +the choicest works of MORE and MILLAIS, and WATTS, and oh, joy! of Sir +COUTTS-LINDSAY! This is indeed the very spot for a resting-place." + +So the Spirit of Art glided up the staircase and into the Grosvenor +Gallery. For a moment she was puzzled. There was no dyspeptic +lady--"no greenery" and very little "yallery." Then she shivered, +for on all sides she found immense pictures of battles and executions +ghastly beyond description. + +"Why, what are these?" she gasped. "What are these?" + +"Catalogue, Miss?" replied a civil attendant. "Thank you, +Miss,--sixpence." + +And then the Spirit of Art read that such and such a picture +represented a dreadful defeat, that a pestilent hospital, yonder one a +scene of torture. She found representations of war treated in the most +prosaic and unbeautiful form. + +She was horrified and fainted! + +Then the vision, before her became more and more terrible and the +entire contents of the Catalogue was unfolded before her. Dying +soldiers defying vultures, mutilated Russians lying in an open grave, +old men being blown from the guns! Wounds, and fire, and blood! + + *** + +When she came to herself she hurried away. She thought it out. + +"I must gradually accustom myself to less horrible things," she +whispered. "I will begin at once. If I were not to do this by degrees, +I should go mad!" She called a hansom. + +"Where to, Miss?" + +"To the Marylebone Road," cried the Spirit of Art--in these days the +Spirit is a very self-assertive young person, and not at all like an +unprotected female--"Baker Street Station, Marylebone Road." + +Then she threw away her Catalogue. + +"I must see something less repulsive than this--I must gradually +resume my normal condition. Something less repulsive! I have it! I +will begin with the figures of Madame TUSSAUD'S--in the Chamber of +Horrors!" + + * * * * * + +CHAIRS TO MEND. + +Congregation at Oxford, having (in an empty House), for the sake +of economy, turned the old Professorship of Anglo-Saxon into one of +English Literature, and having, with a view to utilising its salary, +entirely suppressed the chair of Poetry, it is rumoured that the +Hebdomadal Council have already in contemplation a sweeping list of +curtailments in the same direction. + +The Professorships of Arabic, Archaeology, Astronomy, Botany, Celtic, +Chemistry, and Chinese, will, it is said, also be rolled into one. + +It is hoped that, by some spirited reforms in the direction indicated +above, the University that, from the fashion in which it has dealt +with the Chair of Poetry, appears indeed to be out at elbows, may +survive the financial crisis in which it is evidently involved. + + * * * * * + +CHANNEL TALK. + +_Arranged for the use of the returning British Passenger at +Breakfast-time. By a very Dyspeptic Contributor._ + +It is a glorious thing to think that one is leaving France and all +foreign kickshaws behind one, and is once more approaching dear honest +old England on the deck of a British steamer. + +But let us come into the cabin and have a bit of breakfast before we +get in. + +Surely that table covered with a dirty sheet instead of a tablecloth +is not prepared for our repast? + +Why, this stale loaf must have been on board quite a week. + +It has evidently made several passages backwards and forwards in +company with this extremely remarkable sample of butter. + +Why does this coffee the Steward has just brought us look like ink and +sawdust, and taste like something perplexing? + +The Frenchman, who has been expecting _dejeuner a la fourchette_, is +surveying with astonishment the dish of mutton-chops they have set +down before him. + +It is a great pity that they are all two inches thick, and are +underdone when cut. + +I wonder whether he is thinking, as I am, of the clean, fresh, and +trim _restaurant_ table, the excellent _cafe au lait, petits-pains_, +Normandy butter, and other "foreign kickshaws," that he has just left +behind him in France. + +Though he has had to pay three shillings for his hot breakfast, he has +informed me that he will wait till he arrives, and take "_le lunch_" +on shore. + +I wonder whether he is aware that, if he makes this meal at the +typical Refreshment-Room, he will have to content himself with stale +sponge-cakes, the day-before-yesterday's buns, and small tins of +lemon-drops. + +But let us get out of the Cabin. I certainly prefer the deck of an +excellent steamer to the arrangements made for providing one with +breakfast down below. + + * * * * * + +A QUESTION OF POLICE. + + "The rapid increase both of buildings and population which has + taken place in the Metropolitan Police district of late years + has outrun the increase which it has been possible to make + to the Police Force."--_Sir Charles Warren, in his Official + Reports, 1885, 1886._ + + "The average applications for admission to the Metropolitan + Police Force now amount to one hundred per diem." _Statistics, + October, 1887._ + +[Illustration: _Sergeant Punch (inspecting would-be ex-Unemployed)._ +"SO, MY LAD, YOU WANT TO BE A CONSTABLE! RATHER ENFORCE THE LAW THAN +BREAK IT, EH? THAT'S RIGHT! HEM! THE FORCE HAS LONG BEEN UNDERMANNED. +WE MUST SEE IF WE CAN'T MAKE ROOM FOR YOU!"] + + * * * * * + +NE PLUS ULSTER.--Mr. CHAMBERLAIN seems to find the heart of the Irish +Question in Ulster. Does he expect to find its solution there? He +appears to set little store by the wishes of those not inconsiderable +portions of Ireland which, as he says, "do not form a portion of the +Ulster plantation." All other parts, even of the favoured province, +"though geographically part of Ulster, are not parts of what we know +as political Ulster." This certainly narrows the Irish Question. But +does it simplify it? We have all heard of those who are "more Irish +than the Irishmen themselves." Mr. CHAMBERLAIN seems to be more +Ulsterish than the men of Ulster, though they, to be sure, on his own +showing, are virtually English and Scotch. In declining to look beyond +Ulster, it may be asked whether he looks into the Irish Question at +all. Altogether Irish--very! + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +_The Danvers Jewels_, published by RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON, and +written by an anonymous author who dedicates the work to his sister +"DI," (from whom he received some assistance in the story, otherwise +he would "never have said 'DI,'") is a short and well-told sensational +novelette in a shilling volume. There is a genuine vein of humour +running through it, which is so artistically managed as at first to +escape the reader's attention, who becoming more and more irritated +with the stupidity of the supposed narrator, gradually discovers that +the story which is being recounted by a middle-aged Indian Colonel, +who prides himself on being remarkably astute, and on possessing a +perfectly marvellous insight into character, is being recounted by a +conceited, shallow-pated old ass. I think it a fault that at the +very last, by some such accident as being in an assize town and being +invited to sit on the bench, he does not see the villain thoroughly +unmasked, placed in the dock, and condemned to death, or at least +penal servitude for life. The story, excellent as it is, seems to +me to want this finish. By the way, why, for no conceivable purpose, +quote on the title-page a line from the Old Testament which, as every +one remembering its context and after reading the book must see, has +no apparent bearing on the subject? Mistake this. + +[Illustration: A work by "Q."] + +_Deadman's Rock._ By "Q." Have Messrs. LOUIS STEVENSON and RIDER +HAGGARD combined under the signature of "Q." to write at all events +the first part of the weird and exciting Romance entitled _Deadman's +Rock_? If not let those two authors look to their laurels. There +is much in this book to remind the reader of _Treasure Island_, +especially the fiendish Sailor's uncouth chaunt, "Sing hey for the +deadman's eyes, my lads," which, however, is not a patch upon Mr. +STEVENSON'S "Ho! Ho! Ho! and a bottle of rum," in _Treasure Island_. +Then there is one line in "Q.'s" story, "And here a strange thing +happened," which must call to mind Mr. RIDER HAGGARD'S patent of "and +now a strange thing happened." "Q."--rious coincidence, isn't it? But +a "coincidence" is not likely to annoy Mr. HAGGARD. + +In the first part the most impatient reader will find that he cannot +afford to skip a couple of lines without detriment to the narrative, +but in the second part he may skip handfuls, as the lovemaking is +common-place, and time is wasted over the tragedy which is written by +one of the heroes, and over the description of their life in London. +But on the other hand the scene in the gambling-house is exciting +and artistically worked up,--and coming immediately after this, the +lovemaking is uncommonly tame,--and the scene at the Theatre is also +very good, but after this there is a lull in the excitement until +the end approaches, when there is one very strong situation. But the +actual finish is weak. So the summing up is that the first part is +first-rate, and the second part is, on the whole, second-rate. But who +is "Q."? + +That is the Q. and what is the A.? _Deadman's Rock_ is not a good book +for very nervous persons or children: for the latter _Almond Rock_ +would be far preferable. + + * * * * * + +THE MUSE IN MANACLES. + +(_By an Envious and Irritable Bard, after reading "Ballades and +Rondeaus," just published, and wishing he could do anything like any +of them._) + + Bored by the Ballade, vexed by Villanelle, + Of Rondeau tired, and Triolet as well! + +THE BALLADE. + +(_In Bad Weather._) + + Oh! I'm in a terrible plight-- + For how can I rhyme in the rain? + 'Tis pouring from morn until night: + So bad is the weather again, + My language is almost profane! + Though shod with the useful galosh, + I'm racked with rheumatical pain-- + I think that a Ballade is bosh! + + I know I am looking a fright; + That knowledge, I know, is in vain; + My "brolly" is not water-tight, + But hopelessly rended in twain + And spoilt by the rude hurri_cane_! + Though clad in a stout mackintosh, + My temper I scarce can restrain-- + I think that a Ballade is bosh! + + Oh, I'm an unfortunate wight! + The damp is affecting my brain; + My woes I would gladly recite, + In phrases emphatic and plain, + Your sympathy could I obtain. + I don't think my verses will wash, + They're somewhat effete and inane-- + I think that a Ballade is bosh! + +ENVOY. + + I fancy I'm getting insane, + I'm over my ankles in slosh; + But let me repeat the refrain-- + I think that a Ballade is bosh! + +THE VILLANELLE. + +(_With Vexation._) + + I do not like the Villanelle, + I think it somewhat of a bore-- + This tinkle of a Muffin-bell! + + The reason why I cannot tell; + Each day I fancy, more and more, + I do not like the Villanelle! + + It makes me stamp and storm and yell, + It makes me wildly rage and roar: + This tinkle of a Muffin-bell! + + I look upon it as a sell, + Its use I constantly deplore; + I do not like the Villanelle! + + Poetic thoughts it must dispel, + It very often tries me sore: + This tinkle of a Muffin-bell! + + For this I know, and know full well-- + Let me repeat it o'er and o'er!-- + I do not like the Villanelle, + This tinkle of a Muffin-bell! + +THE TRIOLET. + +(_In a Temper._) + + A triolet's scarcely the thing-- + Unless you would carol in fetters! + If lark-like you freely would sing, + A Triolet's scarcely the thing: + I miss the poetical ring, + I'm told that it has, by my betters! + A Triolet's scarcely the thing-- + Unless you would carol in fetters! + +THE RONDEAU. + +(_In a Rage._) + + Pray tell me why we can't agree + To bid the merry Muse run free? + Pray tell me why we should incline + To see her in a Rondeau pine, + Or sigh in shackled minstrelsy? + Why can't she sing with lark-like glee, + And revel in bright _jeux d'esprit_? + Where form can't fetter or confine-- + Pray tell me why? + + Pray tell me why that frisky gee, + Called Pegasus, should harnessed be? + Why bit and bridle should combine + To all his liveliness consign,-- + To deck the Rondeau's narrow line-- + Pray tell me why? + + * * * * * + +BAD NEWS FOR TEA-DRINKERS. + +[Illustration: A Simple Clearance under Protest.] + +We learn from a report of the proceedings of the City Commissioners of +Sewers last week, that those vigilant protectors of the health of our +ancient City had before them a case that fairly puzzled them, and in +its strangeness and difficulty would probably have puzzled even a more +judicial body than they probably pretend to be. It would seem that +they had received a note of warning from the eminent firm of FRANCIS +PEEK & CO., that a large parcel of tea was about to be submitted +to public auction which was "simple filth," and utterly unfit for +consumption. + +A Commissioner stated that he was present at the Sale that morning, +and that the whole quantity, consisting of 1000 Chests, had been +sold, duty paid (it must have been cleared at the Custom House with or +without protest), at one halfpenny per pound! The natural expectation +was that the "simple filth" as it had been termed by experts, would +be at once seized by the officials and destroyed, but this strange +difficulty arose. The Medical Officer of Health stated that he had +analyzed a sample of the tea in question, and could not swear before a +Magistrate that it was unfit for use! He stated too, as a specimen +of the wisdom of our legislators, that, by Act of Parliament, Tea +was specially exempted from the operations of Public Analysts! So the +willing Commissioners found themselves powerless to act, but referred +the whole matter to their Sanitary Committee, who, we understand, will +at their next meeting take tea, instead of luncheon, made from the +remains of the sample, and report the result. + +In the meantime _Mr. Punch_, ever ready to assist in a good cause, +dispatched one of his City young men to make further inquiries, who +reported that he had visited the Auction Mart on three successive days +at lunch-time, and had asked one or two of the sharpest-looking of the +crowd, as possible purchasers of the wondrous tea, to lunch with him, +which they had willingly done; but, although he says he lunched them +copiously, they one and all denied any knowledge of the tea sale in +question. + + * * * * * + +"SHEPHERD _V._ KEEVIL."--_Mem_; Christian maxim for a Pastor or +Shepherd, "Do not think eevil of your neighbour." + + * * * * * + +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. + + * * * * * + + + + +Transcriber's Notes + +On page 181, "influenced" was missing the letter "d", and on page 183, +"enliten" was missing its first "e". These have been corrected. + +On page 185, "Gringore" was changed to "Gringoire" for consistency. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +93., October 22, 1887, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 37078.txt or 37078.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/0/7/37078/ + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer, +Nigel Blower and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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