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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:08:04 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:08:04 -0700 |
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diff --git a/37465-h/37465-h.htm b/37465-h/37465-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..403101c --- /dev/null +++ b/37465-h/37465-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1978 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" /> + +<title>Punch, November 5th, 1887.</title> + + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4 {text-align: center;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .right {text-align: right;} + .stage {padding-left: 3em;} + .author {padding-left: 3em;} + + hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%; clear:both;} + hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + + span.pagenum {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + + .figcenter, .figright, .figleft, .figleftp {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img, .figleftp img {border: none;} + .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figleftp {margin-left: 10%;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + .figright {float: right;} + .figleft {float: left;} + --> + </style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 93, +November 5, 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, November 5, 1887 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: September 17, 2011 [EBook #37465] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, NOV. 5, 1887 *** + + + + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer, +Nigel Blower and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>PUNCH,<br /> +OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.</h1> + +<h2>Vol. 93.</h2> +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>November 5th 1887.</h2> +<hr class="full" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page205" id="page205"></a>[pg 205]</span></p> + +<h2>THE LETTER-BAG OF TOBY, M.P.</h2> + +<h3><span class="sc">From an Intending Emigrant.</span></h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:45%;"> +<a href="images/205.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/205.png" alt="Intending Emigrant" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p class="right"><i>Liverpool, Saturday Noon.</i></p> + +<p><span class="sc">Dear Toby</span>,</p> + +<p>My boat is on the shore, +And my bark is on the sea, +But before I go, <span class="sc">To-bee</span>, +I will write a line to thee. +I am here to join the bark +aforesaid, which will presently +convey <span class="sc">Joseph</span> and +his fortunes to the United +States. As far as one can +judge from the Press news +telegraphed here, the reception +that awaits me is +not very cordial. I have +all my life been conscious +of a tendency to rub people +down the wrong way. +Unhappily the consciousness +is borne in upon me +only after the evil is effected. No succession of experience has effect +upon my conduct. <span class="sc">Hartington</span> and I are pretty good friends now, +but I daresay you will remember the night, now a dozen years dead, +when I rose from a seat below the Gangway in the House of Commons +and, amid frantic cheers from the little Radical Party of which I was +then a humble ornament, denounced him as "<i>late</i> the Leader of the +Liberal Party." The Markiss is now my friend and ally, and I might +almost say patron. The time is too short for me to recall a tithe of +the nasty things I have said about him and others who toil not, +neither do they spin. With <span class="sc">Gladstone</span> the process is reversed, but +in the end is much the same. I began by adulating him, and now +no one can say that that is my precise attitude towards him.</p> + +<p>It is more or less well as far as individuals are concerned. But I +am afraid I put my foot in it when, in defiance of historic warning, +I framed an indictment against a whole nation. Going out to the +New World on a mission of peace, I began by aggravating Canada +and setting up the back of the United States. When I reflect how +easy it would have been for me to say nothing, I stand amazed at +my own indiscretion. The only recompense I find in the situation is +the chagrin of the Markiss and his friends. They thought they had +done a nice stroke of policy in engaging me on this business. It is, +of course, not a new procedure. If I were still on the other side, I +should take delight in showing that herein, as in the matter of the +Convention with France just completed, they have taken a leaf out of +the book of their political opponents, and re-issued it with their own +imprimatur. The last time a Commissioner was sent out from England +to reason with the United States, <span class="sc">Gladstone</span> was in the Markiss's +place, and he selected <span class="sc">Stafford Northcote</span> as the agent. It was an +excellent device, tying in advance the hands of the enemy, who could +scarcely denounce a policy for the initiation and direction of which one +of their principal men was chiefly responsible. But what a difference +between <span class="sc">Stafford Northcote</span> and me!—a difference which the +Markiss is already beginning to realise. The proposal suited me +well enough. It would take me away from the country at a time +when my presence here only involves me in embarrassing controversy. +Moreover, if I made a great hit, and insured a successful +Treaty, it would pave the way for my return to my old position in +the popular esteem. As for the Markiss, my acceptance of the work +would secure for him an ally on the Opposition benches in the event +of future debate arising out of the Treaty, and would draw into +close, personal union with his Party what only natural modesty prevents +me from alluding to as a formidable antagonist. That was the +little game; and for the sake of saying something bitter, under the +temptation to gird at an adversary that had affronted me, I hopelessly +spoiled it.</p> + +<p>Writing to you, <i>cher</i> <span class="sc">Toby</span>, in the confidence of friendly correspondence +(I suppose your letters are not opened at the Post Office, +Barkshire not being an Irish county) I will confess that I really +could not help it. It is not that I do not know better, but my +temper is perhaps a little peculiar. I am essentially a fighting-man. +If any one bites his thumb at me I will know the reason why, and +no considerations of what is politic will prevent me from returning +a blow. I know that some people think I'm almost to be pitied +because (as they put it) I have hopelessly thrown away a position +which no one but myself could have destroyed. They think I am +politically done for. We shall see. However it be, I shall not forget +the wild joy of battle that the events of the past year have purchased +for me. I like it best with my back to the wall in the House of +Commons, when my old friends jeer and howl at me, and the rapturous +cheers of the Conservatives testify their pleasure at seeing me +of all men playing their game—as they think. I confess things at +the moment are not from any point of view very bright. But I can +afford to wait, strong in the assurance that I can do better without +the Liberal Party than the Liberal Party can do without me. They +call me a Dissentient, which reminds me of a story I once heard +about an aboriginal resident in the great country whither I am now +hastening. A red man was found wandering in the depths of the +forest with signs of perturbation manifest beneath his manfully +calm exterior. "Are you lost?" he was asked. "No," he answered, +"me no lost. Me here. Wigwam lost." It is not I that am a +Dissentient Liberal; it is the Liberal Party that is the Dissentient.</p> + +<p>Now here is the Mayor come to say that luncheon's ready, and so, +dropping into poetry again, I will say good-bye, With a sigh to those +who love me, And a smile to those who hate, And, whatever sky's +above me, Here's a heart for every fate. Yours faithfully,</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">J. Ch-mb-rl-n</span>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>BOUNTIES TO FOREIGNERS.</h2> + +<p><i>First Passenger (in Underground Railway).</i> We're such a frightfully +<i>insular</i> nation! Ignorant, exclusive, say-nothing-to-nobody +sort of people! Think there's nothing beyond Straits of Dover—or +Atlantic Ocean.</p> + +<p><i>Second Ditto (agreeing out of politeness).</i> Horrible? By the bye, +that's a nice picture of the Paris Hippodrome, isn't it?</p> + +<p><i>First Passenger (indifferently).</i> Is it? But, as I was saying, +insularity is our——</p> + +<p><i>Second Ditto (startled).</i> Hullo! By Jove!—no, it can't be true! +Yes, it is—here's an English newspaper taken to giving a column, a +whole column, of French news <i>in French!</i> (<i>Humorously.</i>) Very +insular, isn't it?</p> + +<p><i>First Passenger (not understanding the point).</i> Very. And, as I +was saying, it's our besetting sin. We hide our heads like ostriches, +and refuse to recognise the existence of foreigners. Then what does +this insularity mean? It means we're <i>isolated</i>—cut off from Europe—hated +by everybody.</p> + +<p><i>Second Ditto (roused at last).</i> I don't know what you call being +insular and isolated. French Plays are on at a London Theatre. An +Italian Exhibition's coming to Earl's Court. We get our music from +Germany, our singers from Italy, and our butter and eggs from +Belgium and Brittany; and, on the whole, don't you think London's +about the most Cosmopolitan Capital to be found anywhere? Ah, +here's my Station. Good morning!</p> + +<p class="right">[<i>Jumps out in time to escape indignant retort. Exit.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Magazines in Bulk.</span>—It is as impossible to "sample" a magazine +by a monthly number as it is to estimate the quality of a wine by the +glass. If you take a bottle you know something about it. Thus +when we see the <i>English Illustrated</i> in volume we are fully able to +estimate its worth. The present volume is in every way equal to its +predecessors. Volume Fourteen of <i>St. Nicholas</i> is one of those good +gifts that Brother <span class="sc">Jonathan</span> sends us. It is a delightful collection +of child-poems, child-pictures, and child-lore. The editor, Miss +<span class="sc">Mary Mapes Dodge</span> knows full well how difficult it is to please +those keen critics, the children, but she has "dodged" it.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">The Mac Battenberg.</span>—<i>Mr. Punch</i> is delighted to hear that +mother and child are doing well, and congratulates the Infant +Princess on being the first of the Royal Family to be born in Scotland +since 1600. Could not the next be born in Ireland? "The +<span class="sc">O'Battenberg</span>," would be a splendid title.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">Latest From Lichfield.</span>—<span class="sc">Dr. Johnson</span> loved "a good hater." +He ought to have flourished next year—Hatey-hate! Ha! ha!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page206" id="page206"></a>[pg 206]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"> +<a href="images/206-1.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/206-1.png" alt="EMPLOYMENT." /> +</a> +<h3>"EMPLOYMENT."</h3> + +<p><i>First Loafer.</i> "'<span class="sc">Say, Mate, if they was to put a Shovel in yer 'Ands, +an' tell yer to go to Work, would yer take it?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Second Loafer.</i> "'<span class="sc">Course I would.</span>"</p> + +<p><i>First Loafer.</i> "<span class="sc">Would yer Use it?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Second Loafer.</i> "'<span class="sc">Course I would?—like a Shot! I'd Spout it!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>ROBERT ON LUXURY.</h2> + +<p>Alderman Sir <span class="sc">Renery Knight</span>, late Lord Mare, and one of the werry best +as we ever had, and so was his good wife, the Lady Maress, hapening for to +be a setting at the Manshun House when the <span class="sc">Lord Mare</span> was gorn out for a ride +somewheres, had to receive what I thinks is called a Deputytashun—though not +a bit like reel Deputys, who is all werry rich—of poor working-men as ain't got +not no work to do, and, like the kind gennelman as he is, he gave 'em sum such +capital adwice as to the utter stoopidity of making theirselves noisy and disagreeable +when they wants to make people kindly dispoged towards 'em, and +as to the well-known fackt, that the best friends of the working-classes is them +as spends their money the most freest and the most liberalist, that he set the +hole City a ringing with it, and as always happens alike in exacly similar cases, +up starts a mere upstart of a Pollytickle Economist—how I hates the werry +sound of that larst word, which is ony another name for stingyness and +meanness and sham forgitfulness of the pore Waiter—and says as it ain't true! +Like his imperance I think, but of coarse ewery body has a right to his own +opinion, however ridicklus it may be. But being a Lecturer, and therefore I +spose acustomed to use his tung pretty freely, he mite have been xpected to +have kept a civil one in his head when he rote his reply to Sir <span class="sc">Renery</span>. Instead +of which he fust calls him incorrygible, which I beleeve means that he carnt be +conwicted, as if a Alderman and Magistrate could be! He then writes of his +"Colossal ignorance!" I don't quite know what it means but I'm quite sure +that however small the Alderman's may be, the Lecturer's is ever so much +bigger, as I'll prove from my own pussonal knowledge.</p> + +<p>He acshally has the ordassity to adwise the Rite Honerable the <span class="sc">Lord Mare</span> +not to employ so many cooks! Poor hignoramus! has he ever dined at the +Manshun House on a trewly grate ocashun? Most suttenly not, or he never +would have written such a silly, not to say cruel sentence. Not so many cooks +indeed! Does he think that the Chef who has given his whole mind to the +preparing of the Thick and Clear Turtle, is not so utterly xhausted that he has +to drink two or three glasses of werry old Madeary, and +then lay down on his sophy and recover hisself by slow +degrees. Does he think that the Fish Cooks, with praps +six differing kinds of Fish to prepare, is fit for anything +else? and how about the Sauce Artists, let him try to +emagine, tho' he'll try in wain, what they has to go +through in the tasting line. Then there are the French +gentlemen who superintend the production of those +wunders in what they calls the guestronommick line, +wiz.: the <i>Ontrays!</i> Is it supposed by this "curlossal" +hignoramus, that they can, after achieving brilliant +success in these wunders of hart, condescend to turn +their attention to such werry small deer as poultry and +jints? Suttenly not, the thing's absurd. But they +requires cooks, tho' of coarse, not of the same hi horder +as the Hartists.</p> + +<p>But, strange to tell, ewen this is not the wust. Not +only is the <span class="sc">Lord Mare</span> adwised not to employ so many +Cooks, but the trewly wunderful reason is given, becoz +he can then employ more railway navvies! Shades of +<span class="sc">Frank Hurtelly</span> and <span class="sc">Swoyhay</span>, rest tranquil in your +long graves!</p> + +<p>But what a dedly hinsult to one of the werry noblest +of all noble perfessions, to compare for usefulness a mere +railway navvy to a great Chef. Is this strange economist +aware that the great Earl of <span class="sc">Sefton</span>, prais to his +memory! used to allow his Chef £300 a year and a Horse +and Broom for the Park! But all sitch conclusive arguments +is I fear utterly lost upon him.</p> + +<p>However, there is just one matter for which I have to +thank him. I confess that my face werry possibly turned +gashly pale as I read his orful letter, I fornatrally thort +if he is going to recommend less Cooks he may werry +posserbly be a going for to recommend less Waiters! +But no, he had the good taste to draw his line there, and +for that I thanks him. What a treat it is to turn from +the wild projecks of the Lecterer to the wise counsels +of the Alderman. No doubt, he says, we could all do +without luxuries, but what would become of the millions +who produces them? No doubt, he says, we could all +live on plain food and drink water—what orful words for +a Alderman to write down!—but then what would become +of the millions who earns their living in preparing +them, and he might have added, as a clencher to his +staggering argument, and what would become of Hus? +If there is one picter that presents itself to my orrified +imagination, that more than any other staggers it, it is +that of the hole splendid Army of London Waiters, with +their full dress black coats a gitting jist a leetle shabby, +and their lovely white chokers jest a leetle shady, a +parading the London Streets, and a singing in Chorus, +"We've got no work to do!" But no, I feels as that +orful dream will never live to be realised, but, to use the +classic langwidge as the Lecturer quotes from some frend +of his, and which I supposes as he intends as a complement, +"let the idol rich still take their proper place as +drones in the hive, gorging at a feast to which they have +contributed nothing," and he might have added, and +never never forgetting the Waiter.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Robert.</span></p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:20%;"> +<a href="images/206-2.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/206-2.png" alt="Salvationist" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p><span class="sc">Mr. Punch</span> was pleased to notice that a certain noisy +Salvationist, who would +insist on playing the +cornet—did he profanely +call it "The horn +of salvation?"—to the +disturbance of quiet citizens, +was made to move +on, and treated as a +common street-organ +nuisance by the Magistrate. +Wanted, as soon +as possible, an Act to +stop all unauthorised Processions, be they what they may.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The disastrous fire at <span class="sc">Whiteley's</span> occupied the entire +attention of thirty-four steam fire-engines, "leaving," +says the <i>Standard</i>, "about a dozen for the rest of London." +The "rest" of London will be considerably disturbed if +this state of things continues. We are under-police'd and +under-fire-brigaded. If <span class="sc">Grandolph</span> the Great is afraid +of becoming one of the Unemployed, and so getting into +mischief, let him turn his attention to supply and demand +in this direction, and the ex-Chancellor of the +Exchequer may do some good.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page207" id="page207"></a>[pg 207]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> +<a href="images/207.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/207.png" alt="THE NOT-AT-ALL-AT-HOME SECRETARY." /> +</a> +<h3>THE NOT-AT-ALL-AT-HOME SECRETARY.</h3> + +<p><i>Mr. General-Inspector Punch.</i> "<span class="sc">Now then, Matt, move on! +Don't interfere with the Police in the execution of their Duty.</span>"</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"<i>The change of tactics last week on the part of the Police, in permitting a Meeting +in Trafalgar Square, was said to be due to the interference of +the Home Secretary.</i>"—<i>Daily Papers.</i> +</p></blockquote> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h3>T'other and Which; or, an Old Saw re-set.</h3> + +<p><i>The Showman at Nottingham or Islington (exhibiting figures of +G. O. M. and Orchid Joe).</i> Here you see the Separatist Party as +large as life!</p> + +<p><i>Dubious Elector.</i> Please, which is the Separatist Party?</p> + +<p><i>Showman.</i> Whichever you please, my little dear. You pays your +money, and you gives your vote.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">Free and Very Open.</span>—In Canterbury Cathedral, the other day, +there was only one worshipper present at the Service! The occurrence +is declared to be unprecedented, four having been the previous +low-water-mark of attendance. It might be described as "one-man +rule," only it isn't the rule, but the exception, it seems. If this sort +of thing spreads, the craze for restoring our Cathedrals ought to give +way to a cry for restoring their congregations. Was the Service +altered to "Dearly Beloved Brother" or "Sister?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page208" id="page208"></a>[pg 208]</span></p> + +<h2>SHOWS VIEWS.</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>By Victor Who-goes-Everywhere.</i></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:18%;"> +<a href="images/208-1.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/208-1.png" alt="M. Coquelin" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>M. <span class="sc">Coquelin</span> is at the Royalty with an efficient French Company +appearing in a round of his best-known characters. He has already +taken part in <i>Un Parisien, Don Cæsar +de Bazan</i> and an entirely new piece +(first time in London and elsewhere) +<i>L'Aîné</i>. This last I had the pleasure +of seeing the other evening, and was +delighted to find that it was a play +that could be safely recommended as +a fit entertainment for their charge to +the guardians of that apparently very +easily-influenced infant, "The Young +Person." It is rather suggestive of +several English original pieces, amongst +the rest <i>Miriam's Crime</i> and <i>Faded +Flowers</i>. The adopted daughter +(rescued as a child from the gutter) of +a millionnaire, after her protector's +death, undertakes the reformation of +her benefactor's brother, who takes, +through intestacy, the whole of his +senior's estate. To carry this out +effectively, the young lady prevents +the heir from drinking his <i>chasse</i> after his coffee, and playing a +game of <i>écarté</i> with an old friend, for love, and finally offers to +marry him. The heir is as quiet as a lamb under these inflictions, +until he discovers that his <i>fiancée</i> loves some one else, when he +proposes, at the earliest possible moment, to commit suicide. This +inconvenient intention is prevented, the adopted daughter marries +the man of her choice, and the heir goes back to America, thus all +ends happily. <span class="sc">Coquelin</span>, as the heir, was seen to very great advantage +in the less sentimental parts of the character, but was not +quite so successful when he commenced crying over the +portrait of <i>L'Aîné</i>, which, by the way, was a very excellent +likeness (without the eyeglass) of the Right Hon. <span class="sc">Joseph +Chamberlain</span>. For the rest Madame <span class="sc">Malvau</span> was rather a mature +adopted daughter, M. <span class="sc">Romain</span> (as "<i>Georges</i>—her friend") a little too +heavy in more senses than one as the superfluous lover, and M. +<span class="sc">Duquesne</span> a very excellent lawyer. There is nothing particularly +brilliant in the writing, and only one line raises a laugh. When +the vagabond friend of the heir extends his hand, <i>M. Vivien</i>, +without a movement, merely asks, "<i>Combien?</i>" But on its +repetition this admirable joke did not "go" quite so well. +Still there is a freshness in the central idea of the play +which is welcome. As a rule every one on the French stage +weeps over somebody's mother, but in this case the tears were reserved +for somebody's brother. It is said that the Author of the piece, +M. <span class="sc">Paul Delair</span>, is a novice at stage-craft. This seems to me very +likely, as had he had more experience, I fancy he would have +allowed (especially if he had known that the character was going to +be played by M. <span class="sc">Romain</span>) <i>M. Georges</i> to have been shot dead in the +First Act. This would have been really a great improvement, +especially had <i>Yveline</i> (the adopted daughter) been allowed to expire +from grief early in the Second. Joking apart, <i>L'Aîné</i> is not half a +bad piece, although I cannot conscientiously go so far as to say that +it is half a good one. Before the engagement of M. <span class="sc">Coquelin</span> is over, +the talented actor has promised to play <i>Gringoire</i>. No doubt this +will be produced for the benefit of Mr. <span class="sc">Beerbohm Tree</span>, who richly +deserves the compliment.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width:18%;"> +<a href="images/208-2.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/208-2.png" alt="Elephant" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>The Paris Hippodrome has once more taken possession of Olympia, +where it seems likely to remain until well into next year. The entertainment +is of the customary quality, which is saying a great deal in +its praise. There are excellent <i>troupes</i> of acrobats and performing +dogs (with a wonderful black poodle that +is the best clown that has appeared in a +Circus for many a long year), chariot-races, +and horsemanship in all its +branches. This season the Ladies have +it all their own way. The last time M. +<span class="sc">Houcke</span> visited us, Gentlemen drove the +team of thirty-two, and jumped over the +hurdles with the tandem of three; now +their places are supplied by members of +the fairer sex. The horses who take part +in these feats are so admirably trained +that the element of danger is entirely +eliminated, and, consequently, the change is an improvement. Then +an accomplished cob and an elegant elephant take a turn together +in more senses than one, for they dance <i>vis-à-vis</i> a waltz and +a polka. The novelty of the Show, however, is kept for the +second part, and is apparently a page from the Algerian experiences +of General <span class="sc">Boulanger</span>. The attention of a tribe of Arabs +(seemingly on their road to church) having been attracted to a +military train containing a bugle-band of Turcos and some half-dozen +soldiers of the French line, devotions are temporarily abandoned +for a pitched battle. The Arabs fire upon the Europeans, who, however, +after a lively skirmish, succeed in "taking up a position" with +the bugle-band, and then retire. The Arabs bearing no ill-will, +dancing follows, and the fighting being quite over and forgotten, +General <span class="sc">Boulanger</span>, accompanied by a Staff, swaggers in and assists +at further military exercises. Then the bugle-band heads the procession +of French and Arabs, and, after marching past <span class="sc">Boulanger</span>, +<i>exeunt</i>. The attack upon the train, if a little perplexing from a +purely historical point of view, is capitally managed, and very +exciting. Since the opening night the large hall has been very well +attended; and now that the American Exhibition is closed, may be +expected to be crowded—and a crowded audience at the Addison +Road cannot be recorded in less than five figures. "The Wild West +is gone—long live Olympia!"</p> + +<p>A second visit to the Royal Westminster Aquarium has not improved +my opinion of "the Wolves, the Wolves, the Wolves!" (see +Advertisement) as a pleasure-insuring entertainment. I have already +said that the tricks of these animals cause a "creepy" sensation, +and when I made this observation I referred to the "kissing act," +wherein a wolf embraces the portly person in the Polish lancer's +uniform who has trained it. But the fights between master and brutes +are even less tolerable, as may be judged to be the case when I say +that, on a recent occasion when I was present, the trainer seemed to +be a good-half-hour (no doubt it was an infinitely less period of +time) in getting one of his wild beasts into its allotted cage. It is +not at all a nice sight to see a man beating a snapping and yelping +wolf with a whip, for one feels that there is the element of cruelty +on both sides. Take it allround, I prefer "the <i>belle</i> <span class="sc">Fatma</span>,"—that +is, taking her all round, on which I need hardly say I should not +venture,—to "the Wolves, the Wolves, the Wolves!" And I sincerely +hope that <span class="sc">Fatma</span> (the old lady near her looks more like Fat Ma) may +always be able to keep the wolf from her door.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>GENTLE JOHNNY BULL.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>The way with "demonstrations" tyrants used to take was brief—</p> +<p>Justices gave a rioter the guerdon of a thief!</p> +<p>Not only durance vile—our gentler nature how it shocks—</p> +<p>But whipping-cheer, and oh! they set their Brother in the Stocks!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>In those days a Stump-Orator had reason to take care,</p> +<p>How he denounced, derided, and defied the Powers that were.</p> +<p>And if he talked High Treason—Imagine this, my dears!</p> +<p>They put him in the pillory, and sometimes clipped his ears.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>A People's Friend, unless he took good heed to what he said,</p> +<p>Was liable to answer for his language with his head.</p> +<p>How venerable soever, a too talkative old Cock,</p> +<p>His eloquence might bring him, though a Statesman, to the block.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>But happily we, Brethren, now are men of milder mood,</p> +<p>And not, as were our ancestors, vindictive, stern, and rude.</p> +<p>So much has done the milk of human kindness to assuage,</p> +<p>The bile of British hardihood in this forbearing age!</p> + </div> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>MR. GLADSTONE ON THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER.</h2> + +<p><span class="sc">Sir</span>,—You are wrong in supposing that the term, "Old Fireworks," +was originally applied to myself. I am of opinion, though I speak +under a certain amount of correction, not such, however, as my young +friend, <span class="sc">Grandolph</span>, would like to supply, that the term Old Fireworks +was first applied to the celebrated <i>Mr. Pickwick</i>, though upon +what occasion and by whom I cannot at this moment call to mind. +To your second question, as to whether I approve of the conduct of +<i>Mr. Samuel Weller</i> in resisting the Head Constable <i>Grummer</i>, I +should say that, considering the provocation offered, <i>Mr. Weller</i> +seems to have acted with remarkable self-restraint.</p> + +<p class="author">Yours faithfully, G. O. M.</p> + +<p>P.S. Chips, real good chips, warranted quite dry, and only waiting +for a match to set them in a blaze, may now be had at Hawarden +Lodge at the ridiculously small charge of three-pence a piece, or two +shillings and five-pence halfpenny per dozen. Immediate application +personally or by letter is recommended. Also a copy of Nottingham +speech and the Mitchelstown telegram, which, should any difficulty +be experienced in kindling a bonfire, will at once set the heap +into a splendid blaze. My song and chorus—</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Remember, remember,</p> +<p>The Mitchelstown ember,</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>and so forth, ought to be ready at all respectable music-publishers +by November 3rd. 2<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> per copy. Great reduction for clubs, schools, +&c. Chips! Chips! in the name of the Profit! Chips! G. O. M.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page209" id="page209"></a>[pg 209]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:45%;"> +<a href="images/209.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/209.png" alt="LIKELY TO GET ON IN LIFE." /> +</a> +<h3>"LIKELY TO GET ON IN LIFE."</h3> + +<p><i>Papa.</i> "<span class="sc">If I give you Sixpence, and tell you to buy Five +Penny Papers, how much Change will you bring back to me?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Sharp Boy (considering).</i> "<span class="sc">Well, Papa—let Me See—if you +gave me Sixpence</span>——"</p> + +<p><i>Papa.</i> "<span class="sc">Yes—yes. How much Change to bring back to me?</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Sharp Boy (readily, and with decision).</i> "<span class="sc">None—not if you gave +me the Sixpence!</span>"</p> + +<p class="stage">[<i>Papa determines to put the question in a different way next time.</i>]</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>TO THE INCOMPLETE (POLITICAL) ANGLER.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>O <span class="sc">Brummagem Joseph</span>, my boy, will you halt on</p> +<p class="i2">Your sturdy, but scarce diplomatical way,</p> +<p>And take from an ancient disciple of <span class="sc">Walton</span></p> +<p class="i2">A few friendly hints about patience and "play"?</p> +<p>As an Angler you have <i>Mr. Punch's</i> best wishes,</p> +<p class="i2">But <i>do</i> you consider it wise, ere you start</p> +<p>To throw stones in the water, and stir up the fishes?</p> +<p class="i2">That's scarcely the right piscatorial art.</p> +<p>No, stillness and silence, and delicate tact, Sir,</p> +<p class="i2">Are needed for handling the rod and the reel.</p> +<p>You may pelt and may splash, but you'll find it a fact, Sir,</p> +<p class="i2">Who frightens the fishes will not fill his creel.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">Hadwice Gratis.</span>—The Vaudeville Theatre announces a new play +by Mr. <span class="sc">Enery Hauthor Jones</span>, called <i>Heart of Hearts</i>. To popularise +it for Town use, much better call it <i>'Art of 'Arts</i> at once.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">New Order</span> (<i>not issued from the Horse Guards.</i>)—The entire +British Army to be submitted to a Fortnightly Review for the next +three months at least.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">Mem. for Police by General-Inspector Punch.</span>—Stop the +Orators in Trafalgar Square, and let the Fountains be the only ones +to spout.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">'arry Stratford-atte-Bow's French Motto for the Fifth Of +November.</span>—"<i>Toujours Guy.</i>"</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR ADVERTISERS.</h2> + +<h3><span class="sc">Inverted, Educational, Medicinal, and Miscellaneous.</span></h3> + +<p>WANTED, BY AN INCORRIGIBLE LITTLE BOY, whose +Parents have threatened to send him away from home on +account of his perpetually insufferable conduct, a suitable domicile, +where he will be afforded every facility for continuing it without +hindrance and interruption. A quiet old country clergyman, and +his wife, both a little short-sighted, and hard of hearing, occupying +a retired Vicarage, that is in want of a little waking up, might +write. House must be conveniently arranged for the setting of +booby-traps, possess a good old-fashioned striking-clock, with +accessible inside, a get-at-able upstairs' cistern, a dinner-gong, and +plenty of bells. Bedroom might be furnished with a view to an +occasional display of fireworks. Staircase with good top-to-bottom +slide-down balusters indispensable. Would be glad to hear if there +is a powerful garden-engine, in good working-order, on the premises; +and also whether there is a decent sweetstuff and gunpowder-shop +within easy distance. Apply by letter to "<span class="sc">Tartar</span>," Scarum Hall, +Flingover, Notts.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>THE PRINCIPAL OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN'S ACADEMY, +who has, in turns, been a Stock-jobber, a Solicitor struck off +the Rolls, a Light Comedian, an Undertaker, a Professor of +Calisthenics, and a Hansom-cab Driver, and has now taken to the +Education of Youth as a last resource to make ends meet, is anxious +to hear from a sufficient number of dupes, in the shape of parsimonious +Parents, to enable him to start his scheme, and see whether +he can make anything out of it. They must be fools enough to +believe that a thoroughly high-class, commercial, and classical education, +including instruction in five modern languages, fitting the +recipients for immediate entry into either the Church, the Army, or +the Bar can be furnished, together with the use of an extensive +swimming bath and gymnasium, and an unlimited supply of the very +best diet, without any charge for washing, books, or extras, for +twenty guineas per annum. The fact that a retired waiter from a +Boulogne Restaurant takes charge of the Modern Languages, while +the Higher Mathematics and swimming are entrusted to a late Custom +House Officer, and the Classical and other Departments, are under the +immediate supervision of the Principal, may be taken as a guarantee +that the advertised curriculum is scrupulously and efficiently carried +out. Apply for further Particulars to "<span class="sc">Principal</span>," Uncertificated +Tutors Association, S.E.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>WANTED, BY THE PROPRIETOR OF A PATENT MEDICINE, +a nervous and confiding Client who after reading a +whole newspaper advertising column of diseases, and persuading +himself that he is afflicted with most of them, will believe that by +an outlay of 1<i>s.</i> 1-1/2<i>d.</i>, he can entirely cure himself of the whole lot +of them on the spot. He must not be disheartened if the first trial +produces no effect. On the contrary, if the nostrum appears to +develop fresh and disagreeable symptoms, he must manfully persevere, +and face in turn neuralgia, rheumatic gout, fever, lumbago, +sciatica, incipient paralysis, and even greater complications, rather +than relinquish the remedy when he has once had recourse to it. In +this way, it is obvious, he will not only be able to afford a permanent +support to the sale of a dangerous and deleterious compound, but will, +by its continual use, effectually and completely succeed in ultimately +shattering his own constitution. Apply, "<span class="sc">Proprietor</span>," Jollop's Specific +Restorator, Patent Medicine Works, Pill Hill, N.E.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>WANTED, A QUITE INEXPERIENCED HORSEMAN, to +purchase, on the recommendation of a tricky Job Master, a +thoroughly unsound and spavined Bay Cob that will be represented +as having been "parted with" by its late owner, "a sporting Duke," +for "no fault whatever." The creature, however, that is short in +the wind, swollen at the hocks, an ugly stepper, and has not a single +good point about it, having recently, when in the funeral business, +kicked in a hearse, it has been decided to palm it off on the first unsuspecting +purchaser that turns up as "quiet to ride" and going +"nicely in harness," and it may confidently be relied upon to throw +an unskilful or aged rider, or smash up a brougham at the very +earliest opportunity. As it has also, at a previous period in its +career, served as a trick horse at a Circus, and will, on meeting a +German band, sit down on its haunches, it might be safely secured +by any equestrian to whom some astonishment and a little music +mingled with his morning's ride might prove a pleasing experience. +Can be seen at <span class="sc">Gully's</span> Stables, Blinder Street, S.W.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>A FEW THOROUGHLY UNSUSPECTING TENANTS +wanted by a Jerry Builder, who has just run up a terrace of +new houses anyhow, and is anxious to see if anybody can manage to +live in them. None of the doors shut, all the windows let in draughts, +and there are practically no drains. As the walls are one brick thick, +and the playing of a piano can be heard through six houses, neighbours +of a conversational turn might find a residence in them advantageous. +Warranted to come down with a run in a high wind. Apply, +"Builder," Dustbin Terrace, Killingham Road, E.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page210" id="page210"></a>[pg 210]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> +<a href="images/210.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/210.png" alt="THINGS ONE WOULD WISH TO HAVE EXPRESSED DIFFERENTLY." /> +</a> +<h3>THINGS ONE WOULD WISH TO HAVE EXPRESSED DIFFERENTLY.</h3> + +<p><i>Guest.</i> "<span class="sc">Well, good-bye, Old Man!—and you've really got a very nice little Place here!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Host.</i> "<span class="sc">Yes; but it's rather Bare, just now. I hope the Trees will have Grown a good bit before you're back, +old man!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>CONVENTION-AL POLITENESS.</h2> + +<p><i>Madame France (with effusion)—</i></p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"And doth not a meeting like this make amends?"</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>I trust I have quoted with textual accuracy your so charming, and +to the actual situation happily appropriate poet?</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Bull (avec empressement).</i> It does—or perhaps I should say +doth—indeed, Madam. As to the bit from the bard—well, may its +appropriateness never be less! How much pleasanter than the grim +dictum of an elder rhymester, who referred to your people as those</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"Whom nature hath predestined for our foes,</p> +<p>And made it bliss and virtue to oppose."</p> + </div> </div> + +<p><i>Madame France.</i> The barbarian! Oppose, indeed! Why should +we oppose each other, dear Monsieur <span class="sc">Bull</span>?</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> Why, indeed?</p> + +<p><i>Madame France.</i> True, your bellicose Lord <span class="sc">Palmerston</span> did +oppose my great <span class="sc">Ferdinand's</span> grand idea, and that from motives the +most insular and unenlightened. Just as some few poltroons in your +sea-girt isle at present oppose the Channel Tunnel, which yet, in +good time, will doubtless become as benign an actuality as the Suez +Canal itself.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> Humph! <span class="sc">Pam</span> had perhaps his reasons, which, in the +light of subsequent events, one must admit not to have been without +their weight.</p> + +<p><i>Madame France.</i> Oh, Monsieur <span class="sc">Bull</span>! "Greater freedom of +intercourse between nations is the tendency of our industrial and +social development, and the tide of human intelligence cannot be +arrested by <i>vague fears</i>." So I read in a pamphlet on the Tunnel. +How true, is it not?</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> Doubtless; as true as that the tide of invasion could not +be arrested by cosmopolitan cant.</p> + +<p><i>Madame France.</i> Invasion? Fie, Monsieur <span class="sc">Bull</span>! In the new +lexicon of international amity there is no such word.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> If the excision of the <i>word</i> could absolutely abolish the +possibility of the thing, all would be well—between you and Germany, +for instance.</p> + +<p><i>Madame France.</i> <i>Sacre-e-e!</i> I beg pardon. Expletives should +also be banished from civility's lexicon. But <span class="sc">Bismarck</span> is a <i>monstre</i>, +a <i>miserable</i>,—whereas you——! <span class="stage">[<i>Bows sweetly.</i></span></p> + +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> Inarticulate flattery, Madam, is irresistible—and unanswerable. +The renewal—if, indeed, it was ever <i>really</i> interrupted—of +the <i>entente cordiale</i> between us, is a blessed boon not to be matched +in value by a hundred—Tunnels!</p> + +<p><i>Madame France.</i> And this Convention is the sign and seal of that +renewal, <i>n'est-ce-pas</i>? I <i>knew</i> you never intended to stop in Egypt.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> Longer than was necessary—assuredly not, Madam. +And I was <i>certain</i> the New Hebrides had no real charms to permanently +arrest your feet.</p> + +<p><i>Madame France.</i> Though a <i>pied à terre</i> in Raraitea, of course—you +comprehend, Monsieur!</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> Perfectly. The questions of Egypt and the New +Hebrides, of our post near the Pyramids, and your Protectorate +near Tahiti, have, of course, no real connection.</p> + +<p><i>Madame France.</i> Obviously, Monsieur! Are they not dealt with +in separate Conventions?</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> Ah! if all quarrels—I beg pardon, political problems—could +as easily be settled by a Conventional Act!</p> + +<p><i>Madame France.</i> How welcome to you, Monsieur, to all parties in +your Parliament, to the "rescuers" as to the "retirers," to your +Lord <span class="sc">Chamberlain</span>, as well as to your Grand Old <span class="sc">Gladstone</span>, must be +the prospect of an early, not to say immediate withdrawal from the +Land of the Pharaohs! Surely the fugitive Israelites of old never +left it with such pleased promptitude as <i>you</i> will—"scuttle out" of +it! Have I accurate memory of the Beaconsfieldian phrase, +Monsieur?</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> Your memory, Madam, is miraculous. The forty centuries—<i>or, +however, many more there may happen to be there at the +moment of my departure</i>—will doubtless, in the words of your own +great phraser, "look down from the Pyramids" with emotions not +less marked than my own—and yours, Madam.</p> + +<p><i>Madame France.</i> My emotions at the present moment—and yours, +I hope, Monsieur—are simply of supreme joy at the so happy removal +of difficulties and the so complete restoration of amity between us by +this charming Convention, so satisfactory in its actual terms, so +much more so <i>in its promises for the future</i>. I felicitate you, dear +Monsieur <span class="sc">Bull</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Bull.</i> And I, Madam, reciprocate your felicitations. (<i>Aside.</i>) +It pleases her, apparently, and I do not see that it can possibly hurt +me! <span class="stage">[<i>Left bowing.</i></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page211" id="page211"></a>[pg 211]</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> +<a href="images/211.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/211.png" alt="CONVENTION-AL POLITENESS." /> +</a> +<h3>CONVENTION-AL POLITENESS.</h3> + +<p><span class="sc">John Bull.</span> "DELIGHTED, MY DEAR MADAM! IT PLEASES YOU, +AND—(<i>Aside</i>)—IT DOESN'T HURT <i>ME</i>!!"</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page213" id="page213"></a>[pg 213]</span></p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:45%;"> +<a href="images/213-1.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/213-1.png" alt="SPEEDING THE PARTING GUEST." /> +</a> +<h3>SPEEDING THE PARTING GUEST.</h3> + +<p><i>Host (who has trod on the Lady's Skirt).</i> "<span class="sc">Oh! Forgive me! You +see it's my Natural Instinct to Detain you!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.</h2> + +<p>"<i>My Autobiography and Reminiscences</i>," by <span class="sc">W. P. Frith</span>, +R.A. The Modern Hogarth, painter of "<i>Ramsgate Sands</i>," "<i>The +Derby Day</i>," and "<i>The Road to Ruin</i>," can use his pen as well as +his pencil. "Where got thou that goose-quill?" as <i>Macbeth</i> would +have said, had <span class="sc">Shakspeare</span> wished him to do so. How is it that +Mr. <span class="sc">Frith</span> has never employed his goose-quill before? Sometimes +it is soft-nibbed, and occasionally hard-nibbed, but it is almost +always well pointed; and, though he writes with an overflowing +pen—for he frequently has to check his impulsive waywardness—yet +there is scarcely a blot on the paper throughout the two volumes.</p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Frith</span> is, first and foremost, a humorist, and, in his humour, so +like <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, and so unlike <span class="sc">Dickens</span>, that it is no wonder, considering +the consistent inconsistency of human nature, he should have +loved the latter, and disliked the former. Yet, with all his aversion +to <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, personally—and "all his works" too, apparently, +as he hardly mentions them—he records something very remarkable +about the Satirist of the Snobs which could not be guessed at from +<span class="sc">Thackeray's</span> own letters, nor from the anecdotes told about him. +And it is this; that <span class="sc">Thackeray</span> could make, and on occasion did +make an excellent after-dinner speech. At the Macready banquet +with <span class="sc">Bulwer Lytton</span> and <span class="sc">Dickens</span> present, Mr. <span class="sc">Frith</span> tells us, +"<span class="sc">Thackeray</span> also spoke well and very humorously." And there are +three other instances; so that <span class="sc">Thackeray</span>, who has recounted his +own failure at the Literary Fund dinner, and whose utter collapse at +the Cornhill Magazine dinner is a matter of Literary history, was +not always a mistake as an after-dinner speaker. The modesty +exhibited by Mr. <span class="sc">Frith</span> in this autobiography is an exhibition as +novel and attractive as was <span class="sc">Frith's</span> other exhibition in Bond Street,—because +few autobiographers possess so keen a sense of humour +as to be able to laugh at themselves, and to be candid about their +own foibles and follies. Indeed some persons may think, and indeed +he inclines to this opinion himself, that he goes too far in his +frankness when narrating the practical jokes of that unscrupulous +and cruel <i>farçeur</i> <span class="sc">Sothern</span> the actor, in some of which the +autobiographer appears to have played a small, but not altogether +unimportant part. In his way Mr. <span class="sc">Frith</span> is as frank and open in +his revelations as to his past career, as was Cardinal <span class="sc">Newman</span> in his +straightforward <i>Apologia pro suâ vitâ</i>. In fact in these <span class="sc">Sothern</span> +latitudes—there was a great deal of latitude in that quarter—Mr. +<span class="sc">Frith's</span> work is suggestive less of an autobiography than of a +naughty-biography. He owns that he feels "humiliated and pained" +at recounting <span class="sc">Thackeray's</span> rude jocularity towards himself, and +from the apologetic tone with which he introduces some of <span class="sc">Sothern's</span> +caddish practical jokes, in which Mr. <span class="sc">Frith</span> had no share, and of +which he was not the victim, it may be inferred that he had already +begun to feel "humiliated and pained" at having given so much +space to such stories. How glad he must now be that he kept a +"dear Diary," which has been an invaluable aid to his memory.</p> + +<p>Another great merit in the book is that, without ever sacrificing +its character as an Autobiography, it is never egotistical; egoism +being the great "I-sore" of such works. Should the humble individual +who writes this necessarily brief notice ever arrive at the +time for publishing his Recollections, he is perfectly sure that the +book will be unequalled as a work of imagination. Mr. <span class="sc">Frith</span> tells +us how he improved his pictures by touching them up,—some +people, too, are occasionally improved by the same process, if the +"touching up" is only done judiciously,—and his self-restraint is +therefore really admirable when he rejects the temptation to embellish, +or spice, a story which no one is likely to contradict. For +instance, in what may be called the Sass-age portion of his early life, +he has some amusing anecdotes about Mr. <span class="sc">Jacob Bell</span>, then an Art +student. <span class="sc">Bell</span> drew a man hanging, and <span class="sc">Sass</span>, the master, told him +to leave the studio, "as such a career," as the man hanging, "is a +bad example to your fellow-pupils." Now Mr. <span class="sc">Frith</span> ought to have +given <span class="sc">Bell</span> a triumphant exit speech—he ought to have said to <span class="sc">Sass</span>, +"Sir, I was only illustrating what should be the fate of every one of +your successful pupils—<i>to be hung on the line</i>. Good day." Exit +<span class="sc">Bell</span>. Then he recounts how <span class="sc">Jacob Bell</span>, who, like <span class="sc">Sothern</span>, had +a taste for such practical jokes as are utterly indefensible on the +score of good taste and gentlemanly feeling, dressed up as a woman, +and went to a Quakers' Meeting House, where he sat among the +female portion of the congregation. Thinking he was discovered, +this nice young man "took fright," and bolted. Here Mr. <span class="sc">Frith</span> +should have made the jovial <span class="sc">Jacob</span> subsequently explain that "he +left because the women were all jealous of him, as he was the only +'<span class="sc">Bell</span>' among them." Mr. <span class="sc">Frith</span>, full of his fun, jests, and humour, +must be congratulated on having stuck to the truth, the whole truth, +and nothing but the truth.</p> + +<p>And if anyone wants a first-rate ghost-story for the coming Christmas +time, let him get Mr. <span class="sc">Frith's</span> book, and read how the prosaic +and sensible Mr. <span class="sc">Westwood</span> saw a ghost. It is simply but exquisitely +told, and were it not that Mr. <span class="sc">Frith</span> had previously owned to +his complicity with <span class="sc">Sothern</span> in some of his "spiritualistic" +demonstrations, there would be no sort of ground for suspecting +him capable of joking on such serious subjects. The book is full +of good stories, among which <i>The Mysterious Sitter</i> and <i>Beckford +at Fonthill</i> are about the best. There is already a rail round +<span class="sc">Mudie's</span> counter, and in front of all <span class="sc">Smith's</span> stalls, to keep off the +crowds from taking away <span class="sc">Frith's</span> latest production without paying. +Many of us are eye-witnesses to the fact of the rails in front of +<span class="sc">Smith's</span> bookstalls all the way down the line wherever a train +runs. Mr. <span class="sc">Frith's</span> very good health, and, as his friend <i>Rip-Van-Winkle</i> +<span class="sc">Jefferson</span> used to say, "May he live long an' prosber."</p> + +<p><i>De Omnibus Rebus</i>, by the author of <i>Flemish Interiors</i>. An odd +book to be taken up at odd times. Amusing and chatty with a good +deal of shrewd observation. He who rides may read; and as it is +published by <span class="sc">Nimmo</span>, this firm in this instance might adopt the old +Latin motto, "<i>'Nimmo' mortalium omnibus horis sapit</i>;" <i>i.e.</i> +"<span class="sc">Nimmo</span> is wise to bring out a book for the omnibus hours of +mortals."</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Our Own Bookworm.</span></p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:18%;"> +<a href="images/213-2.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/213-2.png" alt="Policeman and burglar" /> +</a> +</div> + +<p>Madame <span class="sc">Patti's</span> house, in some unpronounceable Welsh place, was +broken into by burglars. We hope they didn't rob her of any notes. +The thieves came from Town—they were +not Welshmen, oh no! <i>Mr. Punch</i> has +always asserted of the Welsh,—</p> + +<blockquote><p> +"Taffy's not a thief." +</p></blockquote> + +<p>And it wasn't Taffy who went to <span class="sc">Patti's</span> +house and stole a matter of seven pounds' +worth of French francs. They found a +box of M. <span class="sc">Nicolini's</span> cigars. But the +thieves knew where to draw the line, +and chucked the lot away in the garden, +among the other weeds. They were "up +to snuff," but not to tobacco in this +form. Query, will M. <span class="sc">Nicolini's</span> friends be delighted to accept +cigars from his case in future?</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>The Centenary of <i>Don Giovanni</i> was celebrated at the two +Universities by a banquet of the principal Dons.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page214" id="page214"></a>[pg 214]</span></p> + +<h2>BARTLETT'S BABY.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Welcome little Stranger! You</p> +<p>Are the darling of the Zoo,</p> +<p><span class="sc">Bartlett's</span> babe, the public pet.</p> +<p>Lucky, lucky Zoo to get,</p> +<p>At a cost scarce worth the mention,</p> +<p>Living proof beyond contention</p> +<p>Of—oh! well, of whatsoever</p> +<p><i>Savants</i> sage and critics clever,</p> +<p>On their controversial mettle,</p> +<p>May—or maybe may <i>not</i>—settle.</p> +<p>Six-and-twenty years ago</p> +<p>(Buffers elderly may know)</p> +<p>Rose the great Gorilla feud;</p> +<p>Dr. <span class="sc">Gray</span> was rather rude,</p> +<p>Rather on <span class="sc">Du Chaillu</span> down,</p> +<p>And the shindy stirred the Town.</p> +<p><span class="sc">Owen</span>, great on brains and bones,</p> +<p>Lectured it in learned tones;</p> +<p><span class="sc">Huxley</span> to the battle rushed;</p> +<p>Mutually they "pished" and "tushed"</p> +<p>In that calm and courteous way</p> +<p><i>Savants</i> have, when they're in fray.</p> +<p><i>Mr. Punch</i>, with ample reason,</p> +<p>Called you "Lion of the Season,"</p> +<p>Great Gorilla. Now 'tis plain</p> +<p>The old fame revives again.</p> +<p>Happy <span class="sc">Bartlett!</span> Lucky Ape!</p> +<p>Fortune comes in curious shape.</p> +<p>You perchance, oh simian child!</p> +<p>Might have roamed the Afric wild,</p> +<p>Like a nigger unreclaimed.</p> +<p>Unobserved, unknown, unnamed,</p> +<p>Fame concerning you quite dumb,</p> +<p>Even your "colossal thumb,"</p> +<p>By the scribes who columns vamp us,</p> +<p>Undescribed; your "hippo-campus"</p> +<p>(Whatsoever <i>that</i> may be)</p> +<p>Not of notoriety.</p> +<p>Now!—Ah, infantine Gorilla,</p> +<p>Every small suburban villa</p> +<p>With your rising fame will ring;</p> +<p>All the sort of folk who bring</p> +<p>Buns unto the prisoned bear,</p> +<p>To your cage will come, and stare.</p> +<p>Buns? Oh, <span class="sc">Bartlett</span>,—master sage,</p> +<p>Autocrat of den and cage!—</p> +<p>Nothing will begrudge, I'm sure,</p> +<p>That may nourish, please, or cure</p> +<p>His prognathous little pet.</p> +<p>Half the luxuries you'll get</p> +<p>Would leave satiate and cloyed</p> +<p>Any hungry "Unemployed."</p> +<p>Cakes—and, if you like it, Ale—</p> +<p>Oh, Gorilla, will not fail;</p> +<p><span class="sc">Gunter's</span> you may sack at will,</p> +<p>Or, if you prefer to fill</p> +<p>Otherwise your dainty maw</p> +<p>Than with sweeties and stick-jaw,</p> +<p>Like the indiscriminate bear,</p> +<p>You may choose your Bill of Fare.</p> +<p>Toys? Ah, bring them, baby, quick;</p> +<p>Will a monkey on a stick</p> +<p>Touch a sympathetic chord?</p> +<p>Well, let's hope you won't be bored,</p> +<p>Baby Ape, by <span class="sc">Bartlett's</span> love,</p> +<p>And the crowds who'll stare and shove;</p> +<p>Long for Afric wild but free,</p> +<p>And a station "up a tree,"</p> +<p>Watching, with prehensile thumb,</p> +<p>For—whatever food may come.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:50%;"> +<a href="images/214.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/214.png" alt="HERE'S ANOTHER GUY!" /></a> +<h3>"HERE'S ANOTHER GUY!"</h3> + +<h4>OR, THE BABY GORILLA AT THE ZOO.</h4> + +<p><i>Nurse Bartlett.</i> "<span class="sc">He shall have a Fifteen-Shilling Pine, he Shall! +and Finest English Hot-house Grapes, he Shall! and Gold-Dust too, +if he cries for it, the little Darling!</span>"</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>VOCES POPULI.</h2> + +<p><span class="sc">Scene</span>—<i>The People's Palace; In Building set apart for Poultry, +Pigeon, and Rabbit Show. Stream of Visitors inspecting +animals in zinc and wire pens.</i></p> + +<p><i>Amandus Milendius (to Amanda Milendia: coming to a halt +before cage containing "roopy"-looking fowl, with appearance of +having been sent out on pair of legs several sizes too tall for it).</i> +They've 'ighly commended <i>'im</i>, yer see.</p> + +<p><i>Amanda M. (who does not converse with facility).</i> Um!</p> + +<p class="stage">[<i>Looks at bird without seeing it.</i></p> + +<p><i>Amandus.</i> Yes, they must ha' thought 'ighly of 'im before they'd +commend him like that, yer know!</p> + +<p><i>Amanda (wishing she was readier of response).</i> Ah! (<i>The fowl +winks slowly at her with his lower eyelid</i>). Come away—I don't like +him!</p> + +<p class="stage">[<i>They move on.</i></p> + +<p><i>The Exhibitor (coming up and inspecting his bird with pride).</i> 'Ere—<span class="sc">Joe</span>! +(<i>Fowl shuts both eyes with a bored expression</i>). B'longs to +<i>me</i>—that bird, Sir! (<i>To Bystander.</i>)</p> + +<p><i>Visitor (from the West; anxious to be agreeable).</i> Ha, a fine bird—magnificent!</p> + +<p><i>Exhibitor.</i> Bred 'im myself, Sir—he's a bit sleepy just now. +(<i>Apologetically</i>). Wake up, ole chap! (<i>Fowl half opens one eye, and +closes it immediately on perceiving proprietor.</i>) <i>Knows</i> me, yer see!</p> + +<p><i>Visitor (with fatal rashness).</i> A—a Brahma, isn't he?</p> + +<p class="stage">[<i>Wonders what made him say that, and tries to think what +Brahmas are like—when they are not locks.</i></p> + +<p><i>Exhibitor (in tone of pitying reproach).</i> <i>No,</i> Sir—no.—Black Red +<i>Bantam</i>, Sir!</p> + +<p><i>Visitor (wishing he had remained vague).</i> Oh—ah, just so—good +evening.</p> + +<p><i>A Cock (derisively).</i> Crorky—rorky—roo!</p> + +<p><span class="sc">At the Rabbit Pens.</span></p> + +<p><i>Another Exhibitor (accompanied by Friend with Catalogue).</i> I +ain't come across my Buck yet. He took a prize, I heerd. (<i>Stops at +Cage.</i>) Ah, this looks like him.... Third Prize, yer see—not so +bad, eh? <span class="stage">[<i>Chuckles.</i></span></p> + +<p><i>The Friend.</i> Hold on a bit! (<i>Refers to Catalogue.</i>) "Number +seven 'underd and two. <span class="sc">Parton.</span> Buck. Eight months." <i>Your</i> +name ain't <span class="sc">Parton</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Exhib.</i> Then it's mine in the next. <i>Second</i> Prize! Better'n +Third, that, ain't it?</p> + +<p><i>The Friend.</i> They've got <i>that</i> down as <span class="sc">Parton's</span> too.</p> + +<p><i>Exhib.</i> Well, I <i>thought</i> some'ow as——<i>this</i> is him anyway. Look +'ere! <i>First</i> Prize! And deserves it, though I sez it myself!</p> + +<p><i>Friend (not without a certain satisfaction).</i> No—no, you're wrong +again. I'll show you where <i>you</i> are. See. "Seven 'underd and +five. <span class="sc">W. Cropper.</span> Buck. Ten months." <i>That's</i> you!</p> + +<p><i>Exhib. (incredulously).</i> That? that ain't never <i>my</i> cream buck! +(<i>The rabbit remains wrapt in meditation.</i>) I'll soon show yer. +(<i>Blows in rabbit's face. Mutual recognition. Tableau.</i>) It <i>is</i> my +buck! And only 'ighly commended! (<i>Recovering himself.</i>) Well, +I arsk you if he oughtn't to ha' done the other—him as they've +given the First Prize to? Why, there ain't no comparison between +them two rabbits!</p> + +<p><i>The Cock (encouragingly).</i> Crorky-rorky-roo!</p> + +<p><i>The Friend (losing all further interest).</i> Well, it's all chance like. +Let's go and 'ave a look at them Lops.</p> + +<p><i>Crowd of Admirers around pen containing gigantic gander.</i></p> + +<p><i>First Admirer.</i> That's <i><span class="sc">Wilkinses'</span></i> gander, that is.</p> + +<p><i>Second Admirer.</i> A fine-grown bird, I <i>will</i> say.</p> + +<p class="stage">[<i>Handsomely, as if he would hardly have expected such a person +as</i> <span class="sc">Wilkins</span> <i>to produce anything as good as</i> that.</p> + +<p><i>Third Admirer.</i> Monster, ain't he? Why, yer might <i>ride</i> on +him!</p> + +<p><i>Small Child (pointing delightedly at the Gander).</i> 'Ook, Mozzer, +pitty duck!</p> + +<p><i>Fond Parent (admiringly).</i> I declare it's wonderful how quick he +gets the names—it <i>is</i> a fine duck!</p> + +<p><i>The Cock (with a touch of correction).</i> Crorky—rorky—roo!</p> + +<p><i>A Connoisseur (inspecting pigeon).</i> Now, <i>there's</i> a nice pigeon—that +<i>is</i> a nice pigeon; but I tell yer what it is—he ain't got the space +to do hisself justice in there. Give him a bigger pen, and a brick to +stand on, and you'd soon see the difference!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page215" id="page215"></a>[pg 215]</span> +<i>Fellow Conn.</i> They ought to ha' give him more room to show off his +tail in—else what's the good of a bird <i>'aving</i> a tail, come to that?</p> + +<p><i>First Conn. (sententiously).</i> Ah, you've 'it it.</p> + +<p><i>Competitor (apparently, unsuccessful).</i> I say, (<i>with bitter sarcasm</i>) +'Are yer seen the pair as take a Fust? Birds I wouldn't pick up if +I found 'em in the street—no, <i>that</i> I wouldn't! Fust Prize to them—hor-hor! +Well, the world's comin' to a pretty pass, I must say! +Arter <i>that!</i>—— <span class="stage">[<i>Eloquent aposiopesis.</i></span></p> + +<p><i>Amandus (tolerantly, to Amanda).</i> Well, pidgings <i>are</i> pretty much +alike, unless you've been brought up to know the differences. I 'ad +a <i>Uncle</i> a breeder.</p> + +<p><i>Amanda (feeling that her ignorance is no longer a discredit).</i> Then +<i>you'd</i> know! <span class="stage">[<i>They go out arm-in-arm, silent but sympathetic.</i></span></p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:100%;"> +<h3>INTERIORS AND EXTERIORS. No. 52.</h3> +<a href="images/215.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/215.png" alt="PLATFORM ORATORY. By Our Travelling Special." /> +</a> +<h3>PLATFORM ORATORY. By Our Travelling Special.</h3> + +<p>[Our Politicians now, in humble imitation of the Great Original, are adopting the fashion of making speeches from railway carriages, or utilising +the ten minutes allowed for refreshment by addressing constituents on the platform. The Railway Companies, in order to observe strict neutrality, +should re-construct carriages to suit and carry the political leaders, and should re-build or increase existing stations on the line, so as to accommodate +the public with various "platforms."]</p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<p>"Enter-tainments" are not now so much the object of our Fireproof +Theatrical Managers as "Exit-tainments." At <span class="sc">Terry's</span> new +theatre everyone feels perfectly secure. It is only the Lessee, who +always appears terry-fied.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">Departure of Distinguished Furry-ners.</span>—The <i>Standard</i> said +last week that two thousand live rabbits were on the eve of being +despatched to British Columbia. Fifty thousand onions should be sent +with them. What's a Rabbit without onions? <i>L'Onion fait la force.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>ANOTHER CHANCE FOR JOE AND JESSE.</h3> + +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Cave</span>, long associated with theatrical management—re-opens +Sadler's Wells on the fifth of November. We are assured that Mr. +<span class="sc">Chamberlain's</span> recent visit to Merrie Islington had nothing whatever +to do with the forthcoming "good old-fashioned Grimaldi comic +pantomime," with which Mr. <span class="sc">Cave</span> promises to entertain his patrons +at Christmas time. Perhaps, after all, the Fisheries Commissioner +is not going to Canada, but is going to join <span class="sc">A. Cave</span> at +Islington, for what on earth is the use of a "Grimaldi pantomime" +without a "<span class="sc">Joey</span>?" Then what a chance for him, in the good old +Grimaldi style, to sing "Hot Collings," rewritten by his faithful +accompanyist <span class="sc">Jesse</span>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">Torchlight and Guy Fawkes Day.</span>—Mr. <span class="sc">Gladstone</span> says that +coming into collision with the Police on the subject of torches, +"he would rather suffer torchers!"</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p><span class="sc">Mr. Wilful Blunt.</span>—Whether the right of Free Speaking is +permitted in Ireland or not, we would decline just now to decide. +But certain <span class="sc">Blunt</span> speaking was very soon stopped.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Au Plaisir.</span>"—Motto for <span class="sc">Augustus Druriolanus</span> during the +run of the present piece.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page216" id="page216"></a>[pg 216]</span></p> + +<h2>THE FOUR NOBLE BURGLARS.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>A Baron, a Marquis, a Duke, and an Earl</p> +<p class="i2">Were dining together one evening at White's;</p> +<p>They were all overdone by the worry and whirl</p> +<p class="i2">Of a long London season's amusements and sights—</p> +<p>By the luncheons that stupify, dinners that tire,</p> +<p class="i2">Dull rides in the Row, deadly five o'clock teas,</p> +<p>At which fashion condemns you to gasp and perspire</p> +<p class="i2">While draining the cup of <i>ennui</i> to the lees.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>No pleasure they took in the joys of the table;</p> +<p class="i2">Though stalwart, they recked not to breakfast or sup—</p> +<p>E'en to plunge at <i>bézique</i> they no longer were able,</p> +<p class="i2">For the fact was these nobles were deuced hard up!</p> +<p>Moaned the Marquis, "We're all in a state of depression;</p> +<p class="i2">As for me, my existence is simply a bore;</p> +<p>Let us strike a new line out—adopt some profession</p> +<p class="i2">Which no British Peer ever practised before."</p> + </div> </div> + +<div class="figleftp" style="width:45%;"> +<a href="images/216-1.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/216-1.png" alt="The Four Noble Burglars" /> +</a> +</div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Then the Baron cried, "Listen, old chappies; I've hit</p> +<p class="i2">On a notion that's brilliant and perfectly new;—</p> +<p>Why shouldn't we four try to burgle a bit,</p> +<p class="i2">And wrest from the wealthy what's fairly our due?</p> +<p>Garotting is vulgar, and cruel to boot,</p> +<p class="i2">The pickpocket oft is despised when detected;</p> +<p>But burglary's just the profession to suit</p> +<p class="i2">A lover of enterprise, highly connected."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>A paper was fetched, and his Grace read aloud</p> +<p class="i2">The following paragraph:—"Criminal Tips!</p> +<p>Young Nobles and Gentlemen under a cloud</p> +<p class="i2">Apply to Professor <span class="sc">Jehoshaphat Fipps</span>,</p> +<p>At his residence, 2, Sheppard Buildings, E.C.,</p> +<p class="i2">Where he nightly gives lessons, from seven till nine,</p> +<p>To youngsters of spirit, from prejudice free,</p> +<p class="i2">In arts which amusement with profit combine."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Next evening the Peers, fully dressed for their parts</p> +<p class="i2">In moleskin and highlows and flat beaver-caps,</p> +<p>Sought out the Professor with quick-throbbing hearts,</p> +<p class="i2">Their courage all but in a state of collapse.</p> +<p>Mr. <span class="sc">Fipps</span> gave them seats; then politely inquired,</p> +<p class="i2">If aught to oblige them perchance he could do,</p> +<p>And replied, when they told him what 'twas they required,</p> +<p class="i2">"All right, noble sportsmen!—I'll soon put you through!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>He taught them to handle the jemmy with grace,</p> +<p class="i2">To frisk with the centrebit, toy with the file—</p> +<p>To flourish the fitful dark-lantern apace,</p> +<p class="i2">And wield the gay crowbar in elegant style;</p> +<p>With skeleton-keys to pick counting-house locks,</p> +<p class="i2">To ply the dumb saw and the chisel that's cold,</p> +<p>To prize up the lid of a banker's strong-box,</p> +<p class="i2">And the portals of burglar-proof safes to unfold.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>When their Lordships were thoroughly versed in their trade,</p> +<p class="i2">And had passed their exams, in a masterly way,</p> +<p>They agreed that a dashing attempt should be made,</p> +<p class="i2">Their expertness to test without further delay.</p> +<p>Should they first try their hands at a light, easy job,</p> +<p class="i2">Not too risky, but graceful, artistic and neat,</p> +<p>Or essay a bold stroke the Exchequer to rob,</p> +<p class="i2">Or the merry Old Lady of Threadneedle Street?</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>At last they resolved that the best thing to do,</p> +<p class="i2">Was to try an experiment, just for a lark,</p> +<p>(And to keep their hands in for a lucrative <i>coup</i>,)</p> +<p class="i2">On a workman's abode near Victoria Park.</p> +<p>They hankered for something quite simple and plain,</p> +<p class="i2">Both suburban and poor, for their trial essay;</p> +<p>So they picked out a one-storeyed house down a lane,</p> +<p class="i2">Which they learned had been empty for many a day.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>They commenced their attack in the dead of the night,</p> +<p class="i2">Scaled a wall, dug a tunnel, and cut through two floors,</p> +<p>Wrenched a lock off with stern, irresistible might,</p> +<p class="i2">And broke open some thoroughly unsecured doors.</p> +<p>For booty they hunted below and on high—</p> +<p class="i2">But naught could they find save a chunk of cold veal,</p> +<p>Till, down in the basement, they chanced to espy,</p> +<p class="i2">Near the back-kitchen sink a huge trapdoor of steel.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>In a second the trap from its fastness they tore,</p> +<p class="i2">When, heaped up pell-mell, of all shapes and all sizes,</p> +<p>The gratified Peers beheld score upon score</p> +<p class="i2">Of grand and legitimate housebreakers' prizes,—</p> +<p>Tiaras of rubies and diamond <i>rivières</i>,</p> +<p class="i2">Superb jewelled bracelets and brooches and rings,</p> +<p>Great emerald, sapphire, and pearl <i>solitaires</i>,</p> +<p class="i2">And all manner of precious, magnificent things.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>As they gazed on these treasures with glittering eyes,</p> +<p class="i2">Lightly handling the gewgaws with delicate touches,</p> +<p>The Duke softly murmured, "Oh! what a surprise!</p> +<p class="i2">Why, some of these trinkets belong to the Duchess!"</p> +<p>"By Jove!" said the Marquis, "this carcanet here</p> +<p class="i2">Has been worn scores of times by my dowager-aunt!"</p> +<p>And the Baron rejoined, "It seems perfectly clear</p> +<p class="i2">That this squalid abode is a regular plant!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>"What a joke!" cried the Earl. "We have chanced on the ken</p> +<p class="i2">Of professional brethren, our seniors in guile,</p> +<p>And I think that, for young inexperienced men,</p> +<p class="i2">We have collared their plunder in workmanlike style.</p> +<p>Let us cull and remove these nefarious hoards—</p> +<p class="i2">We can turn the whole lot into cash at our leisure;</p> +<p>A delightful career is before us, my Lords,</p> +<p class="i2">A bright future of usefulness, profit, and pleasure!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The next day they disposed of their swag for a plum,</p> +<p class="i2">And invested the proceeds in Spaniards and Turks,</p> +<p>After nobly deducting a moderate sum</p> +<p class="i2">For the Burglar's Relief Fund and other good works.</p> +<p>They paid all their creditors, kept up their rank.</p> +<p class="i2">Betted ponies and monkeys like regular "toppers;"</p> +<p>Till one night, as they'd just broken into a bank,</p> +<p class="i2">These deserving young nobles were nailed by the "coppers."</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The Old Bailey was crowded one sunny May morn</p> +<p class="i2">With ladies arrayed in superlative frocks,</p> +<p>When the jury who sate on our nobles forlorn,</p> +<p class="i2">Found them guilty at once, without leaving the box.</p> +<p>And it thus came to pass, I regret to relate,</p> +<p class="i2">That these earnest, industrious, well-meaning Peers,</p> +<p>The pride of their order, the stay of the State,</p> +<p class="i2">Were condemned to pick oakum for twenty-one years!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr /> + +<p><span class="sc">A Word for the War-Office.</span>—Mrs. <span class="sc">Ramsbotham</span> says it's +all very well to talk about the parsimony of the War-Office; but +she hears that the soldiers are provided with fatigue jackets, and +thinks it's really kind of the Authorities to supply the men with +something special to wear when they are tired.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width:40%;"> +<h3>HOW WE ADVERTISE NOW.</h3> +<a href="images/216-2.png"> +<img width="100%" src="images/216-2.png" alt="Suggestion for Utilising a now well-known Mural Decoration(?)" /> +</a> +<p><span class="sc">Suggestion for Utilising a now well-known Mural Decoration(?)</span></p> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width:51px;"> +<a href="images/216-3.png"> +<img src="images/216-3.png" 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" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +93, November 5, 1887, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, CHARIVARI, NOV. 5, 1887 *** + +***** This file should be named 37465-h.htm or 37465-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/4/6/37465/ + +Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer, +Nigel Blower and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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