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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. 105, September 16th, 1893 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Sir Francis Burnand + +Release Date: September 30, 2011 [EBook #37575] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON *** + + + + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Lesley Halamek, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class="full" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page121" id="page121"></a>[pg 121]</span> + +<h1>Punch, or the London Charivari</h1> + +<h2>Volume 105, September 16th 1893</h2> + +<h4><i>edited by Sir Francis Burnand</i></h4> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/121-800.png"><img src="images/121-400.png" width="400" height="476" alt="A CROWDED HOUSE." /></a> +<h2 class="sans">A CROWDED HOUSE.</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Angry Voice (from a backseat).</i> "<span class="sc">Ears off in Front there, +please!</span>"</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2>THE STRIKER'S VADE MECUM.</h2> + +<div class="ind2"> + +<p><i>Question.</i> You think it is a good thing to strike?</p> + +<p><i>Answer.</i> Yes, when there is no other remedy.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> Is there ever any other remedy?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Never. At least, so say the secretaries.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> Then you stand by the opinions of the officials?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Why, of course; because they are paid to give them.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> But have not the employers any interests?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Lots, but they are not worthy the working-man's consideration.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> But are not their interests yours?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Yes, and that is the way we guard over them.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> But surely it is the case of cutting off the nose to spite +the mouth?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> And why not, if the mouth is too well fed.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> But are not arguments better than bludgeons?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> No, and bludgeons are less effective than revolvers.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> But may not the use of revolvers produce the military?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Yes, but they can do nothing without a magistrate reading +the Riot Act.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> But, the Riot Act read, does not the work become serious?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Probably. But at any rate the work is lawful, because +unremunerative.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> But how are the wives and children of strikers to live if +their husbands and fathers earn no wages?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> On strike money.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> But does all the strike money go to the maintenance of +the hearth and the home?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Of course not, for a good share of it is wanted for the +baccy-shop and the public-house.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> But if strikes continue will not trade suffer?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Very likely, but trade represents the masters.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> And if trade is driven away from the country will it +come back?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Most likely not, but that is a matter for the future.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> But is not the future of equal importance to the present?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Not at all, for a day's thought is quite enough for a +day's work.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> Then a strike represents either nothing or idleness?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Yes, bludgeons or beer.</p> + +<p><i>Q.</i> And what is the value of reason?</p> + +<p><i>A.</i> Why, something less than smoke.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>A NOVEL SHOW.</h3> +<p class="center1">["A popular place of entertainment is arranging +a Burglars' Exhibition."—<i>Daily Telegraph.</i>] +</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Oh, gladly will the public pay</p> +<p class="i2">Its shillings for admission,</p> +<p>To study in a careful way</p> +<p>This most original display,</p> +<p class="i2">The Burglars' Exhibition.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Professor <span class="sc">Sikes</span> will here explain,</p> +<p class="i2">With practical instruction,</p> +<p>How best to break a window-pane,</p> +<p>Through which his classic form may gain</p> +<p class="i2">Judicious introduction.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The jemmies, and revolvers, too,</p> +<p class="i2">Will doubtless prove enthralling,</p> +<p>And all the implements we'll view</p> +<p>With which these scientists pursue</p> +<p class="i2">Their fascinating calling;</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The most efficient type of gag</p> +<p class="i2">To silence all intrusion,</p> +<p>The latest kind of carpet-bag</p> +<p>Wherein to bear the bulky "swag"</p> +<p class="i2">To some remote seclusion.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Then, by this exhibition's aid,</p> +<p class="i2">The art will spread to others,</p> +<p>And those who ply this busy trade</p> +<p>Will, in a year or two, be made</p> +<p class="i2">A noble band of brothers.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>The thief of olden time we'll see</p> +<p class="i2">As seldom as the dodo;</p> +<p>The burglar's future aim will be</p> +<p>To join the <i>fortiter in re</i></p> +<p class="i2">And <i>suaviter in modo</i>!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Most Unpardonable "Misuse of +Words."</span>—Making after-dinner speeches.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2>CONVERSION À LA MODE.</h2> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Scene</span>—<i>A Government Office. A</i> Government +Official <i>discovered</i>.</p> +<div class="ind1"> +<p><i>To him enter a</i> Petitioner.</p> + +<p><i>Petitioner.</i> I really think, Sir, that the +time has arrived for a grant.</p> + +<p><i>Official.</i> Impossible, my dear Sir, impossible. +I can assure you the reports are +greatly exaggerated.</p> + +<p><i>Pet.</i> But do you know that the ports cannot +properly be guarded without further +financial assistance?</p> + +<p><i>Off.</i> Very likely; at least, that may be the +general opinion.</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Pet.</span> And Science could be far more certain +did the funds permit—you are aware of that?</p> + +<p><i>Off.</i> Faddists never consider the cost of +anything.</p> + +<p><i>Pet.</i> And I suppose you are aware that +it is marching towards the metropolis?</p> + +<p><i>Off.</i> When it gets there it will be time to +consider the situation.</p> + +<p><i>Pet.</i> Then you have not heard of the recent +affair in Westminster?</p> + +<p><i>Off.</i> In Westminster! Why that is close +to the Houses of Parliament!</p> + +<p><i>Pet.</i> And if I tell you that it has been +traced to the Lobby of the Commons.</p> + +<p><i>Off.</i> Don't say another word, my dear Sir, +not another word. What, appeared in the +House of Commons! Why, several millions +shall be granted at once!</p> + +<p class="ind">[<i>Scene closes in upon preparations of the +most active character.</i></p> +</div> +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="ind2"><span class="sc">Announcement.</span>—<i>The Heavenly Twins</i> +has had a success. It will be followed by a +treatise on gout by Mrs. <span class="sc">Sarah Gamp</span>, M.D., +to be entitled <i>The Uneavenly Twinge.</i></p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2>"SOCIAL TEST-WORDS."</h2> + +<p class="center1"> +[An American writer in <i>The Critic</i> has an article +on this subject.] +</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Two "social questions" soon, we may expect.</p> +<p class="i2">Will, in two continents, raise a social storm:—</p> +<p>"Is it <i>correct</i> to say a thing's 'correct'"?</p> +<p class="i2">"Is it <i>good form</i> to use the phrase 'good form'"?</p> +<p>Or will both go, with those who finely feel,</p> +<p>The way of "gentlemanly," and "genteel"?</p> +<p>Shall <i>Punch</i> attempt to settle it? No, thankee!</p> +<p>He rather thinks he'll leave it to the Yankee.</p> +<p>What matters it about <i>our</i> played-out tongue?</p> +<p>(In which some good things <i>have</i> been said and sung.)</p> +<p>Let those the war of "Saxon <i>versus</i> Slang" wage,</p> +<p>Who have the charge of "the American Language."</p> +<p>That <i>has</i> a future (<span class="sc">Howell's</span> law, and Fate's!)</p> +<p>"The language of the Great United States"</p> +<p>(Unless through cant and coarseness it goes rotten)</p> +<p>The world will speak when "English" is forgotten.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>The Coming Fall.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>The Autumn comes. We welcome it—</p> +<p class="i2">A change from Summer heat appalling.</p> +<p>The birds once more begin to flit</p> +<p class="i2">To warmer climes, the leaves are falling.</p> +<p>But portent clear as clear can be,</p> +<p class="i2">We know that Autumn comes by reasoning</p> +<p>"Look all the papers that we see</p> +<p class="i2">Are daily stuffed with silly seasoning."</p> + </div> </div> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page122" id="page122"></a>[pg 122]</span> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2 class="sans">"A QUIET PIPE."</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 440px;"><a href="images/122-1000.png"><img src="images/122-440.png" width="440" height="490" alt="" /></a></div> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"One touch of nature" kins To-day</p> +<p>With classical Arcadia.</p> +<p class="i2">This faun-like "nipper,"</p> +<p>Tree-perched, is tootling, tootling on,</p> +<p>Though Pan be dead, Arcadia gone,</p> +<p>And wild "Kazoos" are played upon</p> +<p class="i2">By the cheap tripper.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Half imp, half animal, behold</p> +<p>The <span class="sc">'Arry</span> of the Age of Gold</p> +<p class="i2">In this young satyr!</p> +<p>Lover of pleasure and of "lush"</p> +<p>(Silenus at the slang might blush),</p> +<p>Of haunted Nature's holy hush</p> +<p class="i2">Irreverent hater.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Mischief and music, mockery,</p> +<p>Swift eyes oblique in goblin glee,</p> +<p class="i2">And nimble finger;</p> +<p>Sardonic lips that slide with speed</p> +<p>Athwart the rangéd pastoral reed;</p> +<p>Upon these things will fancy feed,</p> +<p class="i2">And memory linger.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Imp-urchin of the budding horn,</p> +<p>Native to Nature's nascent morn,</p> +<p class="i2">The same quaint pranks</p> +<p>You played 'midst the Arcadian shade,</p> +<p>By satyrs of to-day are played;</p> +<p>Their nether limbs in "tweeds" arrayed</p> +<p class="i8">Not shaggy shanks.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Not cheap tan kids and <span class="sc">Kino's</span> best</p> +<p>Can hide the frolic faun confest,</p> +<p class="i8">Or coarse Silenus;</p> +<p>Like <span class="sc">Spenser's</span> satyrs, they attack us,</p> +<p>With rompings rouse, with noises rack us,</p> +<p>Brutes in the train of beery Bacchus,</p> +<p class="i8">And vulgar Venus.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="sc">'Arry's</span> mouth-organ is, indeed,</p> +<p>Far shriekier than your shrilling reed,</p> +<p class="i8">Pan-fathered piper;</p> +<p>While his tin-whistle!—a wood-god,</p> +<p>Whose tympanum <i>that</i> sound should prod,</p> +<p>Would start, and shriek, as though he trod</p> +<p class="i2">Upon a viper.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Ah, yes, my little satyr-friend,</p> +<p>Better Arcadia than Southend</p> +<p class="i2">On a Bank-Holiday!</p> +<p>You and your Pan-pipe <i>might</i> appear,</p> +<p>And tootle, yet not rend my ear.</p> +<p>Or with a novel Panic fear</p> +<p class="i2">Upset a jolly day.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Aperch upon your branch, you carry</p> +<p>A certain likeness to our <span class="sc">'Arry</span>,</p> +<p class="i2">Yet 'tis but slight.</p> +<p>He could not sit, the noisy brute!</p> +<p>And natural music mildly flute,</p> +<p>Till the assembled nymphs were mute</p> +<p class="i2">With sheer delight.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>He'd want the banjo and the bones,</p> +<p>And rowdy words, and raucous tones,</p> +<p class="i2">And roaring chorus.</p> +<p>Urchin, I've done you grievous wrong!</p> +<p>No echoes of Arcadian song</p> +<p>Sound in the screech the holiday throng</p> +<p class="i2">Rattle and roar us.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>To your shrill flutings I could listen</p> +<p>When on the grass-blades dewdrops glisten,</p> +<p class="i8">And morn is ripe.</p> +<p>Could sit and hear your pastoral reed,</p> +<p>In peace, and do myself, indeed</p> +<p>(Fair laden with "the <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'fragant'">fragrant</ins> weed"),</p> +<p class="i8">"A Quiet Pipe!"</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>THE HIGHLAND "CADDIE."</h3> + +<p class="center1"> +[There has been a strike among the Golf Caddies.] +</p> + +<h4><span class="sc">Air</span>—"<i>The Blue Bells of Scotland.</i>"</h4> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Oh! where, and oh! where is your Highland "Caddie" gone?</p> +<p>He's gone to join the Strike, and now "Caddie" I have none;</p> +<p>And it's oh! in my heart that I wish the Strike were done!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Oh! what, and oh! what does your Highland "Caddie" claim?</p> +<p>He wants sixpence for a round of nine holes. It is a shame,</p> +<p>And it's oh! in my heart that I fear 'twill spoil the game.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>And what, tell me what, are your Highland Caddie's tricks?</p> +<p>He has "picketed the links" just to keep out all "knobsticks,"</p> +<p>And it's oh! in my heart, that I feel I'm in a fix!</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Suppose, oh! suppose that all Highland Caddies strike!</p> +<p>I might have to turn up golf, and to tennis take, or "bike,"</p> +<p>But it's oh! in my heart that I do not think 'tis like!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p>"<span class="sc">Name! Name!</span>"—In a recent report from the East occurs the +delightfully-suggestive name of "<span class="sc">Seyd Bin Abed</span>." Of course he +is a relative to "<span class="sc">Seyd im Gotup Agen</span>." Or perhaps he has +changed his name from "<span class="sc">Seyd uad Bin Abed</span>" to "<span class="sc">Seyd Imon +Sopha</span>." If "Seyd" be not pronounced as "Seed" but as "Said," +the above titles can be altered to match. True or not, yet "so it is +Seyd." The news in which this name occurs appears to have reached +the correspondent through a person called "<span class="sc">Rumaliza</span>." Can anything +coming from a female styled "<span class="sc">Rum Eliza</span>" be credible?</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="indrl"><span class="sc">Out of Court.</span>—A sharp young lady listening to a conversation +about witnesses being sworn in Court, interrupted with "I don't +know much about kissing the book, but if I didn't like him, I'd soon +bring the kisser to book."</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2>AT THE SHAFTESBURY.</h2> + +<p>The few theatres now open seem to be doing uncommonly good +business. The Shaftesbury, with <i>Morocco Bound</i>, was as nearly full +as it could be in the first week of September, when the cry is not +yet "They are coming back," but they are remaining away. Another +week will make all the difference. <i>Morocco Bound</i> is not a piece at +all, but a sort of variety show, just held together by the thinnest +thread of what, for want of a better word, may be temporarily dignified +as "plot." Mr. <span class="sc">Charles Danby</span> is decidedly funny in it. Mr. +<span class="sc">Templar Saxe</span> is a pretty singer. Mr. <span class="sc">George Grossmith</span> well +sustains the eccentric reputation of his family name; and, if any +opposition manager could induce the present representative of +<i>Spoofah Bey</i> to appear at another house, it would be "all up" +with <i>Morocco Bound</i>, as such a transfer would entirely take +"the Shine" out of <i>this</i> piece. Miss <span class="sc">Jennie McNulty</span> does nothing +in particular admirably; and Miss <span class="sc">Letty Lind</span>, charming in her +<i>entr'acte</i> of skirt-dancing, is still better in her really capital dance +with the agile <span class="sc">Charles Danby</span>. This entertainment has reached +its hundred and fiftieth night (!!!), and all those who are prevented +from going North to stalk the wily grouse may do worse +than spend a night among the Moors in <i>Morocco Bound</i>. Oddly +enough, but quite appropriately, the acting-manager in front, who +looks after the fortunes of Morocco and its Moors, is Mr. <span class="sc">A. Blackmore</span>. +Out of compliment he might have let in an "a" after the +"k," dropped the final "e," and given himself a second "o." Still, +in keeping with the fitness of things, he has done well in being there.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>ANCIENT SAWS RESET.</h3> + +<p class="ind2">"All work and no pay makes <span class="sc">Jack</span> a striking boy."</p> + +<p class="ind2">"All pay and no work makes <span class="sc">Jack's</span> employer go without a shirt."</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="ind">During the recent tropical weather, Mrs. R. observed that it was +the only time in her life when she would have given anything "just +to have got a little cold."</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page123" id="page123"></a>[pg 123]</span> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"><a href="images/123-1500.png"><img src="images/123-600.png" width="600" height="384" alt="ON HIS HONEYMOON TOO!" /></a> +<h2 class="sans">ON HIS HONEYMOON TOO!</h2> + +<p><i>Man with Sand Ponies.</i> "<span class="sc">Now then, Mister, you an' the Young Lady, a +Pony apiece? 'Ere y'are!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Snobley (loftily).</i> "<span class="sc">Aw—I'm not accustomed to that Class of +Animal.</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Man (readily).</i> "<span class="sc">Ain't yer, Sir? Ne' mind.</span>" (<i>To Boy.</i>) +"<span class="sc">'Ere, Bill, look sharp! Gent'll have a Donkey!</span>"</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2>"THE BOOK THAT FAILED."</h2> + +<blockquote><p> +[A publisher writes to <i>The Author</i> to say that, for the first time in his +experience, the writer of a book which was not a success has sent him an +unsolicited cheque to compensate him for the loss he has sustained by +producing it.] +</p></blockquote> + +<h3><span class="sc">As Things are To-day.</span></h3> + +<p><i>Publisher (nastily).</i> I tell you that it's no earthly use your asking +about profits, because there are none.</p> + +<p><i>Author (amazed).</i> No profits! And you really mean to tell me +that the public has not thought fit to purchase my shilling work of +genius—<i>The Maiming of Mendoza?</i> By our agreement only a +paltry six thousand copies of the work had to be bought before my +royalty of a penny a volume began.</p> + +<p><i>Publisher.</i> I am quite aware of it. The sale of the six thousand +copies would just about have repaid us for cost of production. +As a matter of fact, only three thousand have been sold. We've lost +heavily, and very much regret we were ever induced to accept +the work.</p> + +<p><i>Author.</i> And you really ask me to believe that after such a sale as +that a loss on your part is possible? Why, if you take price of +printing at——</p> <p class="right">[<i>Goes elaborately into cost of production.</i></p> + +<p><i>Publisher.</i> Yes, but you see the price of everything has gone up +in our trade. Binding is now ten per cent. dearer, composing is——</p> + +<p class="right">[<i>Also goes into precise and prolonged details.</i></p> + +<p><i>Author (turning desperate at last).</i> Oh, let us end this chatter! +You really say that no cheque whatever is due to me for all my +labours?</p> + +<p><i>Publisher.</i> Not a single penny. It's the other way about.</p> + +<p><i>Author (leaving).</i> And you call this "the beneficial system of +royalties," do you? Good day! And if I don't set the Society of +Authors at you before I am a day older, then my name's not <span class="sc">Bulwer +Makepeace Defoe Smith</span>!</p> <p class="right">[<i>Exit tempestuously.</i></p> + +<h3><span class="sc">As They may be To-morrow.</span></h3> + +<p><i>Utterly Unknown Novelist.</i> Then I am afraid that my last three-volumed +work of fiction, in spite of the cordial way in which it was +reviewed by my brother-in-law in the <i>Weekly Dotard</i>, my maternal +uncle in the <i>Literary Spy</i>, and a few other relatives on the daily +press, has not upon the whole been a decided success?</p> + +<p><i>Publisher.</i> Well, it's useless to conceal the fact, that from a mere +base material point of view, the publication of <i>The Boiling of +Benjamin</i> has not quite answered our expectations. In fact, we +have lost a couple of thousand pounds over it. But (<i>more +cheerfully</i>) what of that? It is a pleasure to lose money over +introducing good work to the public; a positive privilege to be +sacrificed on such an altar as <i>The Boiling of Benjamin</i>. So say no +more on <i>that</i> head!</p> + +<p><i>U. U. Novelist (enthusiastically).</i> Good and generous man! But I +will say more! You recollect that the terms you made with me +were a thousand pounds down, and a hundred pounds a month for +life or until the copyright expired?</p> + +<p><i>Publisher (groaning slightly).</i> Oh, yes! I remember it very well.</p> + +<p><i>U. U. Novelist.</i> And that I have already received cheques for +one thousand and five hundred pounds, without your mentioning a +word about the loss you have been nobly and silently enduring?</p> + +<p><i>Publisher.</i> An agreement's an agreement, and you are only experiencing +one result of the beneficial system of royalties.</p> + +<p><i>U. U. Novelist.</i> Quite so! But if there is to be division of profits, +there should be division of losses as well. So (<i>taking out chequebook, +and hurriedly writing in it</i>) there! Not a word of thanks! +It's merely repaying you the fifteen hundred I've received, with +another thousand to compensate you for the loss on production.</p> + +<p><i>Publisher (melted into tears).</i> Oh, thanks, thanks! You have +averted ruin from my starving little ones! And if you <i>should</i> wish +to bring out any other work of ——. He is gone, to escape my +gratitude! (<i>Takes up cheque.</i>) By far the best thing he ever +wrote!</p> <p class="center">(<i>Curtain.</i>)</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="ind1"><span class="sc">Political Parallel.</span>—Mr. <span class="sc">Chamberlain</span> declared the other day +the Government were in a hole. Was it in reference to this that the +Duke of <span class="sc">Argyll</span> spoke in the Lords of Lord <span class="sc">Rosebery's</span> "Pitt"?</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">A Glass too Much (for Outsiders last Wednesday).</span>—<i>Isinglass.</i></p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page124" id="page124"></a>[pg 124]</span> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2 class="sans">UNDER THE ROSE.</h2> + +<h4>(<i>A Story in Scenes.</i>)</h4> + +<p class="ind"><span class="sc">Scene II.</span>—<i>Same as preceding.</i> Mr. <span class="sc">Toovey</span> <i>is slowly +recovering from the mental collapse produced by the mention of the word "Eldorado."</i></p> + +<p><i>Mrs. Toovey.</i> <span class="sc">Althea</span> is out of the room, Pa, so there is no +reason why you should not speak out plainly.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. Toovey (to himself).</i> No reason—oh! But I must say <i>something</i>. +If only I knew whether it was my Eldorado—but, no, it's a +mere coincidence! (<i>Aloud—shakily.</i>) <span class="sc">Charles</span>, my boy, you—you've +shocked me very much indeed, as you can see. But, about the +name of this establishment, now—isn't it a curious one for—for +a <i>music-hall</i>, <span class="sc">Charles</span>? M—mightn't it be confused +with—well—say +a <i>mine</i>, now?</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. T.</i> <span class="sc">Theophilus</span>, this is scarcely the tone——. I expected +you to give this misguided boy a solemn warning of the ruin he may incur by having anything to do with such a haunt.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. T. (to himself).</i> Ah, I'm afraid I'm only too well qualified +to do that. (<i>Aloud.</i>) I do, +<span class="sc">Charles</span>, I <i>do</i>—though at the +same time, I can quite understand +how one may, unwittingly—I +mean, you might not be +aware of——</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. T.</i> You, Pa, of all people in the world, trying to find excuses +for his depravity! The very name of the place is enough to indicate its nature!</p> + +<p><i>Mr. T. (hastily).</i> No, my love, surely not. <i>There</i> I think you go +too far—too far altogether!</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. T.</i> I appeal to Mr. <span class="sc">Curphew</span> +to say whether such a place is a proper resort for <i>any</i> +young man.</p> + +<p><i>Curphew (to himself).</i> Wish I +was well out of this! (<i>Aloud.</i>) +I—I really don't feel qualified to +give an opinion, Mrs. <span class="sc">Toovey</span>. +Many young men <i>do</i> go to them, +I believe.</p> + +<p><i>Charles (to himself).</i> Is this +chap a prig, or a humbug? I'll +draw him. (<i>Aloud.</i>) I suppose, +from that, you never think of +going yourself?</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. T.</i> Mr. <span class="sc">Curphew's</span> tastes +are rather different from yours, +<span class="sc">Charles</span>. I am very sure that +he is never to be seen among the +audience at any music-hall, are +you, Mr. <span class="sc">Curphew</span>?</p> + +<p><i>Curph. (to himself).</i> Could I +break it to her gently, I wonder. +(<i>Aloud.</i>) Never—my professional +duties make that impossible.</p> + +<p><i>Charles (to himself).</i> I knew +he was a muff! (<i>Aloud.</i>) I +should have thought you could +easily get a pass to any place you wanted to go—in your profession.</p> + +<p><i>Curph. (to himself).</i> He suspects something. (<i>Aloud.</i>) Should +you? Why?</p> + +<p><i>Charles.</i> Oh, as you're on a newspaper, you know. Don't they +always have a free pass for everywhere?</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> If they have, I have never had occasion to make use of it.</p> + +<p><i>Charles.</i> Well, of course you may turn up your nose at music-halls, +and say they're not intellectual enough for you.</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> Pardon me, I never said I turned up my nose at them, +though you'll admit they don't profess to make a strong appeal to +the intellect.</p> + +<p><i>Charles.</i> If they did, you wouldn't catch <i>me</i> there. But I can tell +you, it's not so bad as you seem to think; every now and then they +get hold of a really good thing. You might do worse than drop into +the El. or the Val., the Valhalla, you know, some evening—just +to hear <span class="sc">Walter Wildfire</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Curph.</i> Much obliged; but I can't imagine myself going there +for such a purpose.</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. T.</i> <span class="sc">Charles</span>, if you suppose Mr. <span class="sc">Curphew</span> would allow +himself +to be corrupted by a boy like you——</p> + +<p><i>Charles.</i> But look here, Aunt. <span class="sc">Walter Wildfire's</span> all right—he +is <i>really</i>; he was a gentleman, and all that, before he took to +this sort of thing, and he writes all his own songs—and ripping they +are, too! His line is the Broken-down Plunger, you know. +(Mrs. T. <i>repudiates any knowledge of this type</i>.) He's got one song +about a Hansom Cabby who has to drive the girl he was engaged to +before he was broke, and she's married some other fellow since, and +has got her little daughter with her, and the child gives him his +fare, and—well, somehow it makes you feel choky when he sings it. +Even Mr. <span class="sc">Curphew</span> couldn't find anything to complain of in <span class="sc">Walter +Wildfire</span>!</p> + +<p><i>Althea (who has entered during this speech).</i> Mamma, I can't find +your spectacles anywhere. Mr. <span class="sc">Curphew</span>, who is this <span class="sc">Walter +Wildfire</span> <span class="sc">Charles</span> is so enthusiastic about?</p> + +<p><i>Mrs. T. (hastily).</i> No one that Mr. <span class="sc">Curphew</span> knows anything +of—and +certainly not a fit person to be mentioned in <i>your</i> hearing, my +dear, so let us say no more about it. Supper must be on the table +by this time; we had better go in, and try to find a more befitting +topic for conversation. <span class="sc">Charles</span>, have the goodness to put this—this +<i>disgraceful</i> paper in your pocket, and let me see no more of it. +I shall get your Uncle to speak to you seriously after supper.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. T. (aloud, with alacrity).</i> Yes, my love, I shall certainly +speak to <span class="sc">Charles</span> after supper—very seriously. (<i>To himself.</i>) And +end this awful uncertainty!</p> + +<p><i>Curph. (to himself, as he follows +to the Dining-room).</i> "Not +a fit person to be mentioned in +her hearing!" I wonder. Would +<i>she</i> say the same if she knew? +When shall I be able to tell her? +It would be madness as yet.</p> + +<p class="ind"><span class="sc">Scene III.</span>—<i>The Study.</i> Mr. +<span class="sc">Toovey</span> and <span class="sc">Charles</span> <i>are alone +together</i>. Mr. <span class="sc">Toovey</span> <i>has +found it impossible to come to +the point</i>.</p> + +<p><i>Charles (looking at his watch).</i> +I say, Uncle, I'm afraid I must +trouble you for that wigging at +once, if I'm going to catch my +train back. You've only seven-and-a-half +minutes left to exhort +me in, so make the most of it.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. T. (with embarrassment).</i> +Yes, <span class="sc">Charles</span>, but—I don't wish +to be hard on you, my boy—we +are all liable to err, and—and, in +point of fact, the reason I was +a little upset at the mention of +the Eldorado is, that a very dear +old friend of mine, <span class="sc">Charles</span>, +has lately lost a considerable sum +through investing in a Company +of the same name—and, just for +the moment, it struck me that +it might have been the music-hall—which +of course is absurd, +eh?</p> + +<p><i>Charles.</i> Rather! He couldn't +possibly have lost it in the <i>music-hall</i>, +Uncle; it's ridiculous!</p> + +<p><i>Mr. T. (relieved).</i> Just what I +thought. A man in his—ah—responsible +position—oh no. But +he's lost it in this other Company. +And they've demanded a hundred and seventy-five pounds over +and above the five hundred he paid on his shares. Now <i>you</i> know +the law. Can they <i>do</i> that, <span class="sc">Charles</span>? Is he legally liable to pay?</p> + +<p><i>Charles.</i> Couldn't possibly say without knowing all the facts. +It's a Limited Company, I suppose?</p> + +<p><i>Mr. T.</i> I—I don't know, <span class="sc">Charles</span>, but I can show you the +official document which—ah—happens to be in my hands. I'm +afraid I didn't examine it very carefully—I was too upset. (<i>He +goes to his secrétaire, and returns with a paper, which he offers +for</i> <span class="sc">Charles's</span> <i>inspection</i>.) You won't mind my covering up the +name? My—my friend wouldn't care for it to be seen—I'm +sure.</p> + +<p><i>Charles (glances at the top of the paper, and roars with +laughter).</i> I say, Uncle, your friend <i>must</i> be a jolly old juggins!</p> + +<p><i>Mr. T. (miserably).</i> I don't think he could be described as <i>jolly</i> +just now, <span class="sc">Charles</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Charles.</i> No, but I mean, not all there, you know—trifle weak +in the upper story.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. T. (with dignity).</i> He never professed to be a man of business, +<span class="sc">Charles</span>, any more than myself, and his inexperience was +shamefully abused—<i>most</i> shamefully!</p> + +<p><i>Charles.</i> Abused! But look here, Uncle, do you mean to say you +don't see that this is a dividend warrant!</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page125" id="page125"></a>[pg 125]</span> + +<p><i>Mr. T.</i> I believe that is +what they call it. And—and +is he bound to send them a cheque for it at once, <span class="sc">Charles</span>?</p> + +<p><i>Charles.</i> Send them a +cheque? Great <span class="sc">Scott</span>! Why +it <i>is</i> a cheque! They're paying +<i>him</i>. It's the half-yearly +dividend on his five hundred, +at the rate of seventy per cent. +And he was going to——Oh, +Lord!</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/124-1000.png"><img src="images/124-300.png" width="300" height="372" alt="'If I were you, I wouldn't mention this to Aunt.'" /></a> +<p class="center">"If I were you, I wouldn't mention this to Aunt."</p></div> + +<p><i>Mr. T. (rising, and shaking +C.'s hands with effusion).</i> My +<i>dear</i> <span class="sc">Charles</span>; how can I +thank you? If you <i>knew</i> +what a load you've taken off +my mind! Then the Company +<i>isn't</i> bankrupt—it's +paying seventy per cent.! +Why, I needn't mind telling +your Aunt. (<i>With restored +complacency.</i>) Of course, my +boy, I have never occupied +myself with City matters—but, +none the less, I believe +I can trust my natural +shrewdness—I had a sort of +instinct, <span class="sc">Charles</span>, from the +first, that that mine was +perfectly sound. I knew I +could trust <span class="sc">Larkins</span>.</p> + +<p><i>Charles.</i> <i>You</i>, Uncle! Then +it was <i>you</i> who was your +friend all the time? Oh, +you're really <i>too</i> rich, you +know!</p> + +<p><i>Mr. T.</i> I have never desired +it; but it will certainly be a +very useful addition to our—ah—modest +income, <span class="sc">Charles</span>. +But you should check yourself, +my boy, in this—ah—immoderate +laughter. There is nothing that I can see to cause +such mirth in the fact of your +Uncle's having made a fortunate +investment in a gold-mine.</p> + +<p><i>Charles (as soon as he can +speak).</i> But it <i>ain't</i> a mine, +Uncle, it—it's the music-hall! Give you my word it is. If you +don't believe me, look at the address on the warrant, and you'll see +it's the same as on this programme. You're a shareholder in the +Eldorado Palace of Varieties, Piccadilly!</p> + +<p><i>Mr. T. (falling back).</i> No, <span class="sc">Charles</span>! I—I acquired them in the +most perfect innocence!</p> + +<p><i>Charles.</i> Innocence! I'd back you for that against an entire +Infant School, Uncle. But I say, I must be off now. If I were you, +I <i>wouldn't</i> mention this to Aunt. And look here. I'd better leave +you this. (<i>He hands him the Eldorado programme.</i>) It's more in +your line than mine now.</p> <p class="ind2">[<i>He goes out, and is heard chuckling in +the hall and down to the front gate.</i></p> + +<p><i>Mr. T. (alone).</i> That ribald, unfeeling boy! <i>What</i> a Sunday +I've had! And how am I ever to tell <span class="sc">Cornelia</span> now? (<i>A bell rings.</i>) +That's to call the servants up to prayers. (<i>He stuffs the programme +into his pocket hastily, and rises.</i>) No, I can't. I <i>can't</i> conduct +family prayers with the knowledge that I'm a shareholder in—in a Palace +of Varieties! I shall slip quietly off to bed.</p> + +<p><i>Phœbe (entering).</i> Missus wished me to tell you she was only waiting +for you, Sir.</p> + +<p><i>Mr. T.</i> <span class="sc">Phœbe</span>, tell your mistress I'm feeling poorly again, +and have gone to bed. (<i>To himself.</i>) If I could only be sure I don't talk +in my sleep!</p> <p class="ind2">[<i>He shuffles upstairs.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">End of Scene III.</span></p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="indrl"><span class="sc">A (Frequently) Rising M.P.</span>—Mr. <span class="sc">T. G. Bowles</span> is quite "a +new boy" in the House, yet has he none of the diffidence of most +other new boys. His continuous questions and his easy oratory will +win for him the styles and titles of "The Flowing <span class="sc">Bowles</span>" and +"The Sparkling <span class="sc">Bowles</span>." If <i>Mr. P.</i> adopts him as a frequent and +favourite subject for an object lesson, such as were <span class="sc">Sibthorpe</span> and +some others in past times, he may attain the very highest position as +"<span class="sc">Bowles</span> of <i>Punch</i>."</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"><a href="images/125-800.png"><img src="images/125-350.png" width="350" height="486" alt="BREAKING IT GENTLY." /></a> +<h2 class="sans">BREAKING IT GENTLY.</h2> + +<p><i>Son of the House (who wishes to say something polite about our friend's +astounding shooting, but who cannot palter with the truth).</i> "<span class="sc">I should +think you were awfully clever at Books, Sir!</span>"</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2 class="sans">POLITICS IN SOUTH AMERICA.</h2> + +<h4>(<i>From our Special Correspondent on the Spot.</i>)</h4> + +<p><i>Monday.</i>—Everyone is +afraid that the action of the +Government in imposing a tax +upon cycles will have serious +effects. Although the fleet do +not use the carriages thus surcharged, +it is not unlikely the +armour-plated <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'cruised'">cruiser</ins> <i>Impartial</i> +may threaten to bombard +the capital. Altogether the +situation is critical.</p> + +<p><i>Tuesday.</i>—My fears were +well-founded. The capital has +been bombarded, but not on +account of the cycle tax, but +to show that the commander +of the armour-plated cruiser +<i>Impartial</i> objects to the proposed +equalisation of Poor +Rates. Fortunately the Government +torpedo-catcher +<i>Cupid</i> was able to beat off the +<i>Impartial</i> before serious damage +could be done. Still, the +question of the acquisition of +the telegraphs is causing +much excitement amongst the +army.</p> + +<p><i>Wednesday.</i>—My worst +fears are realised. The General +in command of the garrison +has made the Church Tithes +question a <i>casus belli</i>. As the +Government insisted upon proceeding +with the second reading, +the General thought it his +duty to set fire to all the public +offices. This is considered to +be an extreme step by many +important members of the +Opposition.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday.</i>—This morning +dense bodies of troops arrived +opposite the House of Representatives, +with a view to bringing pressure to bear upon +the opponents to the Public Baths and Wash-house Bill, which it +will be remembered passed through the Committee stage with the +assistance of a cavalry regiment and three batteries of artillery.</p> + +<p><i>Friday.</i>—The Budget has disappointed both the fleet and the +army, the combined forces have taken possession of the capital, and +the Government is practically overturned.</p> + +<p><i>Saturday.</i>—Matters are still unsettled. The capital is still in +possession of the insurgents. The Premier has been released on condition +that he promises to bring in a Bill for the improvement of the +Law of Bankruptcy early next Session. It is rumoured that a body +of fresh troops are on their way to the metropolis in charge of a +measure for the Abolition of Tithes, which they desire to carry +through the Upper House at the point of the bayonet.</p> + +<p><i>Sunday.</i>—The Admiral commanding the fleet, having proclaimed +himself Dictator, attended church in state. On his way back to his +palace he was surrounded by the troops, and, after a tough engagement, +was forced to retire to his flag-ship with heavy loss. The garrison +would have attended the afternoon service <i>en grande tenue</i> had +not the fleet opened fire upon the recently evacuated cathedral. In +spite of recent events the populace still exhibit uneasiness.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="ind1"><span class="sc">Fine Subject for Heroic Historical Cartoon.</span>—"<span class="sc">'Tommy' +Bowles</span> challenging a division." Imagine it! Grand! but unfortunately +the subject too late for pictorial treatment by one of +<i>Mr. P.'s</i> young men this week. Think how many would go to make +up a "Division"!! Remember that <span class="sc">Tommy</span> is but a Unit. "Unit +is strength," says T. G. B.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="ind2"><span class="sc">The Unexpected.</span>—<i>Youthful Hereditary Legislator (seen for the +first time in the neighbourhood of Westminster last week, inquires of +Policeman).</i> "Aw—can you—ar—direct me to the—aw—House of +Lords?"</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page126" id="page126"></a>[pg 126]</span> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/126-1500.png"><img src="images/126-600.png" width="600" height="370" alt="SEA-SIDE STUDIES." /></a> +<h2 class="sans">SEA-SIDE STUDIES.</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Wandering Minstrel.</i> "<span class="sc">Gurls! I'm a doocid fine Cha-appie!</span>" &c., +&c.</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2 class="sans">"OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY!"</h2> + +<blockquote><p> +[Mr. <span class="sc">Gladstone</span> has gone on a visit to Mr. +<span class="sc">George Armitstead</span>, at Black Craig Castle, +Perthshire. Mr. <span class="sc">Henry Gladstone</span> stated that +the Prime Minister would receive no deputations, +and that the holiday would be purely recuperative.] +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p class="i6"><i>Pensive Premier museth</i>:—</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p>Purely recuperative! Ah! precisely.</p> +<p>Leave me alone, and I shall manage nicely.</p> +<p>How the bees boom amidst the purple heather!</p> +<p>Better than <span class="sc">Bowles</span> and <span class="sc">Bartley</span>! (<i>Yawn.</i>) Wonder whether</p> +<p><i>They</i>'re "booming" still about Sir <span class="sc">William's</span> head;</p> +<p>Buz-wuz! Buz-wuz! And raspy Russell, red</p> +<p>With Orange rage, shakes he a towzled crest?</p> +<p>Creaks he continual challenge, spear in rest?</p> +<p>Wags he a menacing fore-finger still</p> +<p>At me through stout Sir <span class="sc">William</span>? Poor Sir <span class="sc">Will</span>!</p> +<p>How he'd like <i>this</i>! How little he likes <i>that</i>!</p> +<p>Purely recuperative! Here I've sat</p> +<p>Since luncheon—ruminating, reading, napping,</p> +<p>Thank heaven I cannot hear Lord <span class="sc">Kelvin</span> clapping</p> +<p><span class="sc">Castletown's</span> callow clap-trap. All is still.</p> +<p>There's nothing near I wish to stalk or kill.</p> +<p>Like Melancholy <i>Jaques</i>, I can note</p> +<p>The branchy antlers and the dappled coat</p> +<p>Of "poor sequestered stag," and yet not yearn</p> +<p>To—make him venison. Yon brabbling burn</p> +<p>Makes mellower music in my Scottish ears.</p> +<p>Then the <span class="sc">Macallum's</span> slogan. How the cheers</p> +<p>Of <span class="sc">Salisbury</span> must have fired him as he smote;</p> +<p>Hacked at my character, hewed at my throat</p> +<p>Like "sullen spearsman" upon Flodden field.</p> +<p>The claymore, like his sires, he loved to wield.</p> +<p>They lost their heads he says, for England's weal,</p> +<p>And he—well, has he not lost <i>his</i>?</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i26"> I feel</p> +<p>The mellow moorland air, gorse-scented, bland</p> +<p>With heather odour, soothes me, like the hand</p> +<p>Of gentle woman on an angry brow.</p> +<p>Were the great-little Scotsman with me now,</p> +<p>Like proud <span class="sc">McGregor</span> on his native heath,</p> +<p>Breathing pure-scented, honey-laden breath,</p> +<p>How his cock-nose would drop, his flaming crest</p> +<p>Droop and unruffle! He's a scold confest,</p> +<p>A pedagogue incarnate; horn-book, tawse.</p> +<p>Cramming and chastisement, not making laws,</p> +<p>His talent and his temperament best befit.</p> +<p>Yet—once he lent his eloquence and wit</p> +<p>To aid the man he now maligns. Ah, me!</p> +<p>"Tricky!"—"corrupt!" What arrant fiddle-de-dee</p> +<p>It sounds—upon these moors, beneath the blue</p> +<p>Of unpolluted skies!</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i18"> <span class="sc">Homer</span>, to you</p> +<p>I turn. <span class="sc">Achilles</span> in his wrath could rage,</p> +<p>But scarce would stoop the wordy war to wage</p> +<p>With poisoned epithet and shrewish flout</p> +<p>Like scorpion-tongued <span class="sc">Thersites</span>.</p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i18"> Here, no doubt,</p> +<p>By Black Craig Castle party wasps would turn</p> +<p>To honey-hiving bees. Oh, tinkling burn,</p> +<p>You set my soul to music. <span class="sc">Honest John</span>,</p> +<p>Valiant Sir <span class="sc">William</span>, you must still fight on</p> +<p>A little longer. Would ye both were here.</p> +<p><span class="sc">Armitstead's</span> guests, like me, like me with cheer</p> +<p>"Purely recuperative" holiday</p> +<p>To take—"Over the Hills and Far Away!"</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p class="i10">[<i>Left lolling like a Lotus-eater.</i></p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2>AN OLD FRIEND DUE NORTH.</h2> + +<p>For a really humorous drawing commend +me to the picture in the <i>Daily Graphic</i> of +Saturday, September 9, representing "the +civic procession to the luncheon given to Lord +and Lady <span class="sc">Aberdeen</span> by the Lord Mayor of +Liverpool." The stately party is preceded +by a Piper—of course, it is his worship the +Mayor and common councillors who pay the +piper and call the tune on this occasion—who +is stepping out jauntily. But notice his +glance; notice the Mayor's expression as he +tries to prevent himself laughing, and hides +one eye with the sword of State; notice Lord +and Lady <span class="sc">Aberdeen</span>, the latter looking a +trifle annoyed, while his Lordship is struggling +with painfully suppressed merriment. What +is it that has nearly upset their gravity and +spoilt the procession? The explanation is at +hand. On the left of the picture in the +foreground stands, <i>en evidence</i> it is true, but +with a reverential air as of one who knows +his place in society and keeps it, our old +friend and contributor, <i>Robert the Waiter</i>!! +It must be he. It is the very man, unless +he has a Scotch double, or unless he was born +a twin, and the other <span class="sc">Robert</span> was a Scotchman. +There he is. Get the paper and see.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="indrl"><span class="sc">Noah's Ark Masonry.</span>—For the first +time <i>Mr. Punch</i>, G.A.U.W.G.M., and Past +Grand Everybody, met with mention of the +"Royal Ark Mariners." Do they belong to +an offshoot, or rather an Olive Branch, of +Free-Masonry? "There are 3980 of them," +says the <i>Daily Telegraph</i>. Where do they +meet? In an Ark? Do they enter in pairs? +Of course, <span class="sc">Noah</span> himself was a Mason, seeing +that aboard his own vessel <i>he</i> was Sailing +Master of the Craft.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page127" id="page127"></a>[pg 127]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/127-1500.png"><img src="images/127-600.png" width="600" height="456" alt="'OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY!'" /></a> +<h2>"OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY!"</h2></div> +<hr class="medium" /> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page128" id="page128"></a>[pg 128]</span><br /> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page129" id="page129"></a>[pg 129]</span> + +<h2 class="sans">THE MAN IN THE SOUTH.</h2> + +<p>Having on some occasions during, I admit, the spring and autumn, +spent a few days at Pinemouth on the South-Western Coast, and +having had the enormous value of the place as an ultra salubrious +health-restorer most energetically impressed upon me from time to +time by such thoroughly disinterested persons as local members of +the medical profession who, as a rule, took their holiday during the +summer season, merely because they couldn't get the opportunity +at any other time—a fact in itself going a long way (as they themselves +did—to Switzerland +and elsewhere) to prove the +peculiar healthfulness of this +seaside resort, and the place +having been further highly +recommended (by residents +who, having houses to let +for the summer, were quite +disinterested) as quiet and +delightfully refreshing, and +having, in fact, heard all +that could be said in favour +of Pinemouth as a Summer +Resort by those who had +only the welfare of their +dear friends at heart (and +if such interest did put a +little ready capital in their +pockets through taking their +dear friends' houses—where +is the harm?), I, <span class="sc">Robinson +Crusoe</span>, Jun., "The Man +of the First of August" +(that being the beginning of +my tenancy) determined on +trying Pinemouth (a name +that I find spelt with unpardonable +familiarity in some +local guide-books, thus—"P'm'th"—an +abbreviation +leaving the name scarcely a +shred of its original character), +and when I say so +boldly, "<i>I</i> determined," any +other Paterfamilias will at +once know what <i>that</i> means.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/129-800.png"><img src="images/129-500.png" width="500" height="464" alt="Mr. Robinson Crusoe" /></a> +<p class="center">Mr. Robinson Crusoe, Junior, deciding on where to spend his few +weeks' holiday.</p></div> + +<p>Of course, directly "P'm'th" was decided upon, some of our +friends shook their heads, others observed dubiously that "they +<i>had</i> heard it wasn't such a <i>very</i> bad place in August," while the +majority bade me farewell with forced cheeriness, expressed the +heartiest hopes for our health and happiness in the new climate we +were going to try, and in a general way our excellent friends and +acquaintances were almost as enthusiastic and hopeful on the score +of our enjoying ourselves and benefiting by the change, as were +the American acquaintances of <i>Martin Chuzzlewit</i> and <i>Mark Tapley</i> +when those two emigrants were starting for the great dismal swamp.</p> + +<p>Finding that we had made all our arrangements, and had actually +signed and sealed the bond, and delivered ourselves over into the +hands of the "P'm'thians," our friends, who, as we subsequently +ascertained, had never been near the place, or, if they had, had been +there at a hopelessly wrong time, and had pitched their tents in an +utterly wrong quarter, made ill-disguised attempts at speaking +gently and kindly of "P'm'th," allowing that possibly "it might +not, at this time of year, be so hot as had been represented,"—a +theory which, like one recently put forward by a tender-hearted +theologian, was immediately placed in the <i>Index Expurgatorius</i> by +the Inevitable Uncompromising One who professed a thorough knowledge +of the climate, and who asserted that in this particular year, +when the Summer had been abnormally hot and was going to be +more abnormally hot than ever, we should find "P'm'th" absolutely +unbearable.</p> + +<p>But, as the adventurous hero of "<i>Excelsior</i>" would listen to +nobody, so I (representing "we") refused to hear the prognosticators +of woe, and adhered +manfully to my purpose. In +the very hottest season, +when the thermometer in +every London house went +so high that it had to be +deluged with wholesome antiseptic +Condyment, and +doors and windows were +everywhere left open so as +to obtain a through draught,—for +people lived on +draughts of all sorts in those +doggiest of dog-days and +on little else,—we, that is +all the <span class="sc">Crusoes</span>, were seated +in our garden looking on to +the heather and the sea, +open to all the winds of +heaven—and getting one of +them, the south-east, blowing +softly and sweetly across +our south-western height. +Gracefully and gratefully +we arose to play tennis, and +sat down again after the +evening meal to take our +coffee and cigarettes. Bless +thee, P'm'th! thou art +delicious! thou art refreshing! +Hot in the hottest +August ever known thou +certainly art, that is, at midday, +down in your valley and +your town! But up above +on the Western Heights, +looking across an expanse of purple and yellow, uninclosed by +firs, pines, or larches, on to the broad expanse of the deep blue +sea, thou art all my fancy painted thee, thou art cucumbery in thy +coolness! and as I think of Royat and Aix-les-Bains I smile a +smile of gentle pitying wonder, and almost feel inclined to piously +pray for all poor bodies suffering from the canicular heat, whether +London doth still hold them in its toils, or stifling, smelling Continental +cities, are causing them to sigh for the balmy breezes of +Old England.</p> + +<p>Thus then is it that "P'm'th"—that is "Pinemouth" in its abbreviated +form—is the place about which, as being comparatively +unknown at this season of the year, I beg to offer to <i>Mr. Punch</i>, +and through him to the world at large, for the ultimate benefit of +way-worn travellers, a few notes representing an uncommonly +pleasant experience, which, by the kind permission of "<i>Mr. P'n'h</i>" +aforesaid, shall be "continued in our next" by</p> + +<p class="author1">"<span class="sc">The Man in the South</span>."</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>A WORD TO THE WEATHERWISE.</h3> + +<blockquote><p> +[<i>Sir John Bridge</i>: Don't you think there is a great deal of chance as to +the weather we are to have to-morrow? <i>Mr. Muir Mackenzie</i>: No. <i>Sir +John Bridge</i>: The mass of mankind think there is. <i>Mr. Muir Mackenzie</i>: +Unfortunately the mass of mankind are very ignorant.—Bow Street Police +Court, Wednesday, September 6.] +</p></blockquote> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>Oh, Mr. <span class="sc">Muir Mackenzie</span>! we're right glad</p> +<p class="i2">To hear this news of meteorology.</p> +<p>Farewell to all the many doubts we've had,</p> +<p class="i2">The thing's as easy now as A B C.</p> +<p><i>You</i> know to-morrow's weather at a glance,</p> +<p class="i2">So, though we would not willingly o'ertask you,</p> +<p>When next we seek the weather in advance,</p> +<p class="i2">We'll simply drop a letter-card to ask you.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="indrl"><span class="sc">A Cure.</span>—"No," said Mrs. R., after some consideration, "although +I do feel a touch of rheumatism now and then, yet I do not fancy +going abroad for treatment. There's some place where you drink +waters and take a bath, and then are tucked up in bed for the +remainder of the day. It's in Germany, I fancy, and I think they +call the place <i>Underdelinen</i>."</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>A HINT.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>You read my verse; the praises you bestow</p> +<p class="i2">Can make innocuous the critic's curse,</p> +<p>Vain his attack, unfelt his shrewdest blow,</p> +<p class="i6"><i>You</i> read my verse.</p> + </div><div class="stanza"> +<p>You like the rhymes; think not their writer worse</p> +<p class="i2">If just one hint he cannot well forego,</p> +<p>The bard, to put it in a manner terse,</p> +<p class="i2">Does not exist on praise alone, you know,</p> +<p>And sympathy can hardly fill his purse;—</p> +<p class="i2">You borrow, and you do not <i>buy</i>, although</p> +<p class="i6">You read my verse!</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="indrl">"<span class="sc">Gone Nap!</span>"—It is all up with Mr. G.! The distinguished +M.P. for St. Pancras, in whose lineaments <i>Mr. Punch</i> traced a +marked resemblance to the features of the Great Emperor of the +French, and there and thenceforth raising him from the rank of +Mr. <span class="sc">Pell</span> as he was formerly known, immediately christening him +"<span class="sc">Napoleon Boltonparty</span>" (with likeness drawn by <span class="sc">Lika-Joko</span>), +even he has joined the Unionist Opposition. He is no longer "Going +Nap," he has gone. Doubtless, Conservatives have their eye on +him: but <span class="sc">Napoleon Boltonparty</span> is too wary to be caught +"napping."</p> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page130" id="page130"></a>[pg 130]</span> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a href="images/130-1500.png"><img src="images/130-600.png" width="600" height="430" alt="INEXPENSIVE HOSPITALITY." /></a> +<h2 class="sans">INEXPENSIVE HOSPITALITY.</h2> + +<p><i>Fussy Wife.</i> "<span class="sc">My dear, what could have induced you to Invite all those +People? Why, our little Dining-Room +won't hold them! And for a Sunday, too!!</span>"</p> + +<p><i>Sagacious Husband.</i> "<span class="sc">My dear, don't fuss yourself! There is a sort of +a '<i>Don't-dine-out-on-a-Sunday</i>' look about +them which made it perfectly safe!</span>"</p></div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2 class="sans">ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.</h2> + +<h3>EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.</h3> + +<p><i>House of Commons, Monday, September 4.</i>—What happened to-night +in connection with the Blameless <span class="sc">Bartley</span>, Bart., should have +useful effect in checking the tendencies of the censorious. Having +settled business arrangements by moving Resolution, Mr. G. skipped +out of House to pack up for his journey to Scotland. No boy at +end of term more eager for holiday; none more thoroughly earned. +In heat of discussion going forward on details of Resolution Mr. G.'s +departure not generally noticed. Only one faithful eye—or, to be +precise, a couple—followed his passage behind <span class="sc">Speaker's</span> chair. +Eyes dimmed with tears. For months, from early February to these +young September days, <span class="sc">Bartley</span>, Bart., has sat opposite Mr. G., +has, so to speak, lived in his large and magnificent eye. Now association +about to be dissevered by withdrawal of the stately presence +from Treasury Bench. And only the other day he had referred to +<span class="sc">Bartley</span> as "the Hon. Baronet"!</p> + +<p>For a while <span class="sc">Bartley</span>, Bart., sat silent and sorrowing. If it had +been the custom to wear sackcloth on the Opposition benches, and +any ashes had been handy, he would undoubtedly have endeavoured +to discover what secret consolation their use conveys. Nothing of +the kind to be had on the premises. After brooding for a while, he +up and spoke. "Where's the <span class="sc">Prime Minister</span>?" he cried aloud. +House hardly recognised in this wailing voice the stern accents +with which it is familiar from the same quarter. "It is not proper +that the House should sit without the <span class="sc">Prime Minister</span>."</p> + +<p><span class="sc">Squire of Malwood</span> (after all a kind-hearted man, quick to +sympathy) endeavoured to comfort the Bereaved. "Not proper," +he exclaimed, "for House to sit without presence of <span class="sc">Prime Minister</span>! +Why, for six years we had no Prime Minister here."</p> + +<p>"That's all very well, but," as <span class="sc">Bartley</span>, still weeping for the +<span class="sc">Premier</span> and not to be comforted, subsequently observed to Admiral +<span class="sc">Field</span>, "you can't mend a broken heart by a quip." <span class="sc">Hanbury</span> and +<span class="sc">Tommy Bowles</span> did their best to soothe him; walked him up and +down the Terrace; gave him a cup of tea, a bottle of smelling salts, +and a cabinet portrait of Mr. G. But it was only late at night, +when House had got into Committee, he so far recovered as to move +to reduce a vote by £100, in order to plead for some amelioration of +the lot of the Treasury Valuer.</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Arrangements completed for Autumn Session.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page131" id="page131"></a>[pg 131]</span> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 650px;"><a href="images/131-1500.png"><img src="images/131-600.png" width="600" height="437" alt="LAST WEEK." /></a> +<h2 class="sans">LAST WEEK.</h2> + +<p><i>Possible but improbable Scene in the Upper House, which perhaps Mr. J-hn +B-rns, M.P., may "regret he did not see.</i>"</p></div> + +<p><i>House of Lords, Tuesday.</i>—Remember one night in years gone +by, whilst <span class="sc">Hartington</span> was still with us in the Commons, he +interrupted one of his own speeches by a portentous yawn. Complimented +him on the feat; few men, I said, would have the pluck +to do it; might yawn at other people's speeches, but never at +their own.</p> + +<p>"Ah, <span class="sc">Toby</span>," said <span class="sc">County Guy</span>, "you don't know how dem'd +dull the speech was. You only had to listen to some of it. I had to +deliver it all."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/132b-800.png"><img src="images/132b-400.png" width="400" height="312" alt="Supporting the Crown." /></a> +<p class="center">Supporting the Crown.</p></div> + +<p>Thought of this to-night listening to old friend in Lords, now +scarcely disguised as Duke of <span class="sc">Devonshire</span>. Spoke for nearly two +hours. Those who read it will find speech admirable; one of the best, +most weighty, indictments of Home Rule and the tactics that have +brought it into position of Ministerial measure. But alack! for those +who heard it, or, at least, sat through the two hours; not many, all +told; an hour enough for <span class="sc">The Macullum More</span>; other Peers on +both sides of House folded their tents like the Arab, and as silently +stole away. The <span class="sc">Markiss</span> gallantly kept his place, sitting for +some time with closed eyes, the better to concentrate his attention. +<span class="sc">Prince Arthur</span> and <span class="sc">Joey C.</span>—lovely in the Commons, in the Lords +not divided—stood sturdily on either side of the Throne. "The Lion +and the Unicorn supporting the Crown," said <span class="sc">Rosebery</span>, glancing +across at them.</p> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="page132" id="page132"></a>[pg 132]</span> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 150px;"><a href="images/132a-400.png"><img src="images/132a-150.png" width="150" height="362" alt="The Devonshire Yawn." /></a> +<p class="center">The Devonshire Yawn.</p></div> + +<p>For the ladies in the gallery, mothers and daughters, <span class="sc">Devonshire</span> +not so attractive a <i>parti</i> as was <span class="sc">Hartington</span>. Still, he is a +pillar of +the Union, a brand snatched from the burning pile to which the +wicked hand of Mr. G. applied the traitrous torch. So they sat and +listened—half an hour, three-quarters of an hour, an hour. Then +was heard the light rustle of dainty dresses; doors softly opened +along the Gallery; for a moment a +fair figure stood framed in it, with +guilty glance around to see if she was +observed; then, with winning "back-in-five-minutes" +look on innocent +face, she hastily stepped out.</p> + +<p>The Duke saw none of these things +nor cared for them. He had a duty to +perform, and long before <span class="sc">Old Morality</span> +was heard of, the <span class="sc">Cavendishes</span> +did their duty. He plodded on through +the melancholy night; stolidly turning +over the pages of his notes; stubbornly +repressing a growing tendency +to yawn; catching his voice up when +it wearily sank to the level of his +boots; making most pathetic effort to +keep it going. Usually it fell away at +the end of the third or fourth sentence, +to be pulled up with harsh jerk at +commencement of one that followed. +A good man struggling with the adversity +of having to make a speech on +a topic harried to death in the other +House through course of over eighty +days.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Member for Sark, +waking up from gentle slumber indulged +in in corner seat at end of +Gallery; "but why didn't he halve +his adversity? If he'd been content +with an hour we should all have been +grateful, and he would have been spared a moiety of his anguish."</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Second Reading of Home-Rule Bill moved in +House of Lords.</p> + +<p><i>Thursday.</i>—Again a crowded assembly in Lords to-night to hear +its most brilliant Member. The Bishops, in great force, clustered, a +group of fluttering white lawn, on right of Woolsack. "The white +flower of a blameless Parliamentary life," the <span class="sc">Markiss</span> says of them. +Not an inch of red benches visible on Opposition side. Even +Ministerial benches full, though, as was made clear in course of +debate, not all who sit there are Ministerialists. <span class="sc">Rosebery</span>, looking +more boyish than ever, sat amid the elders on Front Bench; makes +no sign of intention to follow <span class="sc">Selborne</span>; takes no note nor betrays +other evidence of uneasiness. <span class="sc">Selborne</span> preaches for hour and half. +Understood to be sermon worthy of his fame; we Commoners in +gallery over bar could hear only fragmentary portions of sentences. +Reported that <span class="sc">Selborne</span> had lost his notes; Member for Sark +recognises +most kindly interposition of Providence.</p> + +<p>"If he speaks for hour and half with only recollection of his notes +where would he have been if he had them?" Must get <span class="sc">Weir</span> to put +that conundrum to <span class="sc">Chancellor</span> of the Exchequer.</p> + +<p>Grateful to <span class="sc">Rosebery</span>, since at least we can hear him, though he, +too, now and then falls into habit of dropping end of sentence. This +the less excusable, since none of them are heavy. A clever speech, +scarcely obscuring what seems to be difficult position. "Dancing +among the eggs," is <span class="sc">Balfour of Burghley's</span> commentary. Of all +listeners in the brilliant throng none so attentive as the <span class="sc">Markiss</span>. +Seems, on the +whole, to like +speech better than +does <span class="sc">Spencer</span>.</p> + +<p>"Reminds me, +<span class="sc">Toby</span>," <span class="sc">Markiss</span> +says, "of what +<span class="sc">Lovelace</span> wrote +to <span class="sc">Lucasta</span>, 'on +going to the wars.' +How does it run?</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>I could not love Home Rule so much</p> +<p class="i2">Loved I not <span class="sc">Gladstone</span> more."</p> + </div> </div> + +<p>In the Commons +pegging away at +estimates; occasional +explosions; +<span class="sc">Joseph</span>, popping +in from Lords, +said a few genial +words just to keep +matters going, and +disappeared again. +Came back after +midnight in time +to have a round +with <span class="sc">Squire of +Malwood</span>.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;"><a href="images/132c-700.png"><img src="images/132c-250.png" width="250" height="365" alt="'Finished.'" /></a> +<p class="center">"Finished."</p></div> + +<p>Uneasy feeling prevalent consequent on announcement made +early in sitting that charwoman employed in service of House has +died of cholera. This regarded as being exceedingly inconsiderate. +Questions usually every day about cholera at Grimsby and Hull. +That all very well; an incident possible to regard with philosophical +mind. But cholera in our own kitchen quite another sort of +microbe.</p> + +<p>"I'm a family man," said <span class="sc">Cobb</span>. "It's no use denying it, and +I will not attempt it. Was thinking of staying to see this out; +begin to think the Session unduly prolonged. In short, if I +may quote an old proverb adapted to the occasion, I would +say, When cholera comes in by the window <span class="sc">Cobb</span> goes out by the +door." <i>Business done.</i>—Third night Home-Rule debate in Lords. +Supply in Commons.</p> + +<p><i>Saturday</i>, 1 <span class="sc">A.M.</span>—All up with Little Bill-ee. His worst fears +are realised. Whilst Captain <span class="sc">Willyum</span>: has been having a quiet, +restful time among the heather, Guzzling <span class="sc">Bob</span> and Gorging +<span class="sc">Harty</span> have worked their wicked will on the Innocent. Snickersees +have been drawn; blows have been dealt; the hunger of +Ulster has been satisfied; Little Bill-ee has been killed and +eaten.</p> + +<p>"Just so," said the <span class="sc">Lord Chancellor</span> from behind his wig; +"a meal eagerly partaken of. Now we've nothing to do but +to wait awhile, and see how it agrees with them. You remember, +<span class="sc">Toby</span>, the letters engraved on the tomb of her late husband +by the sorrowing widow in Ohio?</p> + +<p class="center">S. Y. L.</p> + +<p>'See you later,' she explained to inquiring friends, was its portent. +S. Y. L., Little Bill-ee, S. Y. L.!"</p> + +<p><i>Business done.</i>—Lords throw out Home-Rule Bill by 419 Votes +against 41.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h3>Sartorial.</h3> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<p>"Naked and not ashamed" our "Interests" stand,</p> +<p>"Scourge of our Toil, monopolist of our Land!"</p> +<p>So someone says. But 'twill be found, if tested,</p> +<p>These "naked" interests are mostly <i>vested</i>.</p> + </div> </div> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="indrl"><span class="sc">A Real "Mayor's Nest."</span>—The platform (presided over by the +Mayor of Bristol) on the occasion of the opening of the Bristol Fine +Art and Industrial Exhibition. (See Illustrated Papers <i>passim</i>.)</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Motto for a Man Reprieved from the Gallows.</span>—No noose +is good news.</p> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<table align="center" summary="transcriber note" width="auto" style="margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em;"> +<tr> + <td class="note"> + +<h4>Transcriber's Note:</h4> + +<p>Sundry damaged or missing punctuation has been repaired.</p> + +<p>Corrections are also indicated, in the text, by a dotted line underneath the correction.</p> +<p style="margin-top:-1em;">Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p> + +<p>Page 122: 'fragant' corrected to 'fragrant'. +'(Fair laden with "the fragrant weed"), + "A Quiet Pipe!"'</p> + +<p>page 125: 'cruised' corrected to 'cruiser'. armour-plated cruiser +<i>Impartial</i></p> + +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +105, September 16th, 1893, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON *** + +***** This file should be named 37575-h.htm or 37575-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/5/7/37575/ + +Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Lesley Halamek, 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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