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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, October
+28th 1893, 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/license
+
+
+Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, October 28th 1893
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: April 3, 2012 [EBook #39362]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Lesley Halamek and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Punch, or the London Charivari
+
+Volume 105, October 28th 1893
+
+_edited by Sir Francis Burnand_
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+MY LANDLORD.
+
+(_By a Tenant._)
+
+  Who asked a rent absurdly high;
+  Who never scrupled at a lie?
+  The house well built! The soil so dry!
+      My Landlord.
+
+  Whose saving schemes cause constant fears
+  The house will fall about my ears?
+  I say it totters, and he sneers.
+      My Landlord.
+
+  The cellar's flooded when it rains;
+  The ceilings show damp, mouldy stains.
+  Who swindled me about the drains?
+      My Landlord.
+
+  Who called the house extremely nice?
+  It's simply overrun with mice,
+  The cook has had hysterics twice.
+      My Landlord.
+
+  Who praised the garden in a way
+  To seem like Eden? I should say
+  The soil is brickbats mixed with clay.
+      My Landlord.
+
+  Who said each kind of plant succeeds?
+  Yet when I sow the choicest seeds
+  They all develop into weeds.
+      My Landlord.
+
+  What's this? A note from him--a few
+  Short lines to say the rent is due.
+  Who tells me facts not new, if true?
+      My Landlord.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A SUGGESTION.--A decoration for JABEZ BALFOUR,--"The Order of the
+Golden Fleece."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: RECKLESS.
+
+_Moderate Swell._ "GOING TO TAKE A CAB?"
+
+_Immoderate Swell._ "ER--NO."
+
+_M. S._ "NO UMBRELLA, I SEE."
+
+_Imm. S._ "ER--NO, DEAR BOY. SEE--IF YOU--ER--CARRY 'BRELLA--LOOKS AS
+IF YOU'D ONLY ONE SUIT A CLOTHES!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MY TENANT.
+
+(_By a Landlord._)
+
+  Who haggled long about the price;
+  Who says my house is far from nice;
+  Who seeks solicitor's advice?
+      My Tenant.
+
+  Who wants incessantly repairs
+  To floors and ceilings, steps and stairs;
+  Who doats on hygienic scares?
+      My Tenant.
+
+  Who lives in fear of sewer gas,
+  So that the plumbers soon amass
+  Vast sums, once mine? That utter ass,
+      My Tenant.
+
+  Eternally some fresh complaint;
+  Distemper, whitewash, paper, paint!
+  He is enough to vex a saint--
+      My Tenant.
+
+  Who lets the garden go to pot?
+  What used to be a pleasant spot
+  Is worse than an allotment plot.
+      My Tenant.
+
+  Deferring payments suits his bent;
+  When various demands I've sent;
+  Unwillingly he pays the rent,
+      My Tenant.
+
+  A note from him? Another growl!
+  Some chimney smokes, he wants a cowl.
+  Thus he complains, that moping owl,
+      My Tenant.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mrs. R. says she always understood you must "catch your hare before
+you cook it;" so she cannot for the life of her make out what a friend
+of hers meant by telling her that "when their kitchen-maid cooked the
+hare _she caught it afterwards_!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A DIARY À LA RUSSE.
+
+_Monday._--Rather tired of this constant hand-shaking, and even the
+lady-kissing is somewhat wearisome. Especially when the fair dames do
+not draw the line at sixty. However, no doubt well meant. Found usual
+collection of miscellaneous presents. Don't quite know what I shall
+do with ton of tallow. Somehow our hosts fancy we require it. Latest
+addition from the advertising merchants--a Patent Tombstone (with
+space for _affiches_ at back) and Somebody's Remedy for Neuralgia.
+Wish our hosts would not send us such a lot of things! Have been
+staying at my hotel all day long on the chance of escaping attention,
+and thus be able to find my way to the Moulin Rouge. Just got past the
+porter, when I was caught by one of the _attachés_ and carried off to
+a State Dinner. Spent the rest of the evening in shouting "Long Live
+France!" and listening to the Russian National Hymn.
+
+_Tuesday._--Hope I shall have better luck to-day. My hand is twice
+its normal size, thanks to the shaking. More presents. Candles by
+the hundredweight, and bear's-grease by the ton. Some one has sent a
+Boot-blacking Machine, and wants a testimonial. On the watch all day.
+Trust to get to the Folies Bergères some time or another. Just crawled
+out when seized by a friendly _député_, and hurried off to a function
+at the Hotel de Ville!
+
+_Wednesday._--Absolutely done up. Deafened with the "_Marseillaise_,"
+and sick to death of "_The Emperor's Hymn_." Usual collection of
+presents. Five thousand fire-alarms! One of them alone enough to wake
+up a slumbering town of half a million inhabitants! Ladies of all ages
+(especially of mature age) anxious to kiss me. Could not walk across
+the road this morning for them! Had to stop in the hotel all day long.
+Tried to escape in the evening on the chance of finding my way to a
+"concert-music-hall," when seized by an officer of the French Marine,
+and carried away to a Reception!
+
+_Thursday._--I have now been in Paris four days and seen nothing,
+absolutely nothing! Of course most gratifying from a patriotic point
+of view, but if this is Paris why give me St. Petersburg, or even
+Siberia! Can't move a step without having my hand shaken off. Not a
+moment's privacy; and as for the presents, I am absolutely deluged
+with them! and such idiotic gifts! All the advertisers in the
+country seem to have found us out. What use on earth can I make of an
+elephant's feeding-spoon or a lady's comb for curling the hair? I made
+a last effort to get to the Moulin; but, of course, again frustrated.
+I was seized by an "A.-D.-C." and taken to a State Lecture!
+
+_Friday._--Giving way to despair! What a hollow thing is popular
+applause! I am absolutely tired to death of it. I cannot repeat (for
+very weariness), the various ovations I have received. I have been
+accepted with cheers at all hours of the day and night! Oh, how glad
+I would be to get back! At the last moment I saw my way to a stealthy
+visit to the Folies, when I was secured and booked for two dinners and
+a "_punch_." Betrayed! Betrayed!
+
+_Saturday._--Still hunted. Not allowed to go anywhere except when
+my tormentors drag me to some official function. Have sold all my
+presents for ten francs. Have received marching orders for Toulon.
+Just as I was about to escape and proceed to the Moulin Rouge,
+captured by "my friends the enemy," or should it be "my enemies the
+friends"? Had to submit to the usual enthusiasm on my road to the
+railway station. Fortune of war I suppose, or rather of peace. Of the
+two, the latter I should think was the more deadly. Last strain of the
+"_Marseillaise_," last kiss from some one's grandmother, and curtain!
+Glad it's all over!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BY MR. JUSTICE CHARLES (_omitted in reports of his decision last
+week_).--"The Dahomey Troupe of Amazons appear only in the evenings
+at certain music-halls. Their name should be changed to 'Day-homey and
+Night-outy Amazons.'"
+
+  (_Signed_)
+  "CHARLES HIS FRIEND."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE CHESHIRE CRUELTY TO CHILDREN CASE.--Rightly were condemned the two
+unfeeling PHELANS. No jury could possibly have any consideration
+for such PHELANS as these. If for the male prisoner the jury had
+recommended a tail or two of the Cheshire Cat (o'-nine-tails), it
+would not have been thought too much.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+MOTTO FOR MR. INDERWICK, Q.C.--The eminent Counsel of the QUEEN has
+been recently admitted to the freedom of the borough of Rye. He has
+added to his coat of arms the words, "Mind your Rye."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+NEW DESCRIPTIVE TITLE OF THE G. O. M. SUGGESTED BY LORD SALISBURY'S
+LATEST SPEECH.--"The Autocrat of the Round Table."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: "EMINENTLY A SCOTTISH GOVERNMENT."
+
+(_Mr. Asquith's Speech, Tuesday, October 17._)]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: TOO PARTICULAR.
+
+"LOOK HERE--CONFOUND IT, ISAACSON! YOU'VE PLAYED ME A PRETTY TRICK
+WITH THIS ANCESTOR YOU SOLD ME! SHOWED IT TO A FRIEND YESTERDAY, AND
+TOLD HIM IT WAS THE PORTRAIT OF MY ANCESTOR WHO CAME OVER WITH WILLIAM
+THE FIRST; AND HE SAID, 'WHAT A FUNNY THING HE SHOULD HAVE DRESSED
+HIMSELF IN THE STYLE OF WILLIAM THE FOURTH!'"
+
+"VELL THAT'TH NOTHING. I JETH MADE A MITHTAKE OF A FEW YEARTH--VILLIAM
+THE FIRTHT AND VILLIAM THE FOURTH; ONLY HITH GREAT-GRANDTHON!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE SAX SCOTCH PIPERS.
+
+    ["The present Government is eminently a Scottish Government.
+    You must remember that there are in the present Cabinet no
+    less than five Scotch members of the House of Commons ... and
+    we have also a member of the House of Lords who is one of the
+    most eminent Scotchmen--I mean Lord ROSEBERY."--_Mr. Asquith
+    in Glasgow._]
+
+    "_A Sassenach chief may be bonily built,
+    He may purchase a sporran, a bonnet, a kilt;
+    Stick a skeän in his hose--wear an acre of stripes--
+    But he cannot assume an affection for pipes._"
+
+      --_Bab Ballads._
+
+AIR--"_The Hundred Pipers._"
+
+  Wi' sax stalwart pipers an' a', an' a',
+    Wi' sax Scotch pipers an' a', an' a',
+  We'll up an' gie them a blaw, a blaw,
+    Wi' sax stout Scotch pipers an' a', an' a',
+  Oh! it's Sassenach bummlers awa', awa'!
+    Our WULLIE'S a Scotsman sae braw, sae braw,
+  We'll on an' we'll march to St. Stephen's ha',
+    Wi' its seats an' its salaries an' a', an' a'!
+      Wi' sax Scotch pipers an' a', an' a', &c.
+
+  Oh! wha' is formaist o' a', o' a'?
+    Oh! wha' does follow the blaw, the blaw?
+  Bonnie WULLIE, the king o' us a', hurrah!
+    Wi' his five stout pipers an' a', an' a'!
+  His bonnet an' feather he's wavin' high.
+    His bagpipes wheeze, an' his ribbons fly;
+  The nor' win' plays wi' his thin white hair,
+    While the pipers blaw wi' an unco' flare.
+      Wi' sax Scotch pipers an' a', an' a', &c.
+
+  PRIMROSE, an' CAMPBELL, sae dink an' sae deep,
+    Shouther to shouther wi' _Marjoribanks_ they keep,
+  ROBERTSON, BALFOUR, an' ASHER a' round
+    Dance themselves dry to the pibroch's sound.
+  Dumfoundered the English saw, they saw,
+    Dumfoundered they heard the blaw, the blaw
+  Hath a Southron ae chance ava' ava',
+    Wi' these sax Scotch pipers an' a', an' a'?
+      Wi' the sax Scotch pipers an' a', an' a',
+      The Saxon must go to the wa', the wa'!
+      WULLIE'S up an' gies them a blaw, a blaw
+      Wi' his sax Scotch pipers an' a', an' a'!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A CONTRIBUTION TO THE CELEBRATED PICKWICKIAN EXAMINATION PAPER.--_To
+Students of Pickwick._--On what (as far as this questioner is aware)
+solitary occasion is champagne mentioned in _Pickwick_? who drank
+a bottle of it? where was it consumed? after what exhilarating
+performance?--ED.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"_TA TA'_D AND FEATHERED."--"_A soft thing that waves_" was the
+description of a feather given by a Lady Correspondent--and therefore
+a perfectly Fair One--in the _Times_ last Saturday. But surely "_a
+soft thing that waves_" is evidently a lady's hand bidding somebody
+"_Ta! ta!_"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BY OUR OWN CRAMMER.--In unsuccessful candidates for Army and Navy
+Exams. England may have lost some of her best "pluck'd" soldiers and
+sailors.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+BRIC-À-BRAC.
+
+(_By a Gallio._)
+
+    ["Poetry will degenerate into mere literary _bric-à-brac_,
+    such as the composition of rondels and triolets."--DR. C. H.
+    PEARSON.]
+
+  Literary odds and ends
+    Will for lays be scribbled!
+  PEARSON thus ahead portends
+    "Litter"-ary odds and ends.
+  Pessimist, you owe amends
+    For this forecast ribald:--
+    "Literary odds and ends
+    Will for lays be scribbled!"
+
+  Call you then mere _bric-à-brac_
+    Triolet and rondel?
+  _All_ that's knocked off with a knack
+  Call you then mere _bric-à-brac_?"
+  Man of prose, you thus attack
+    VILLON, DOBSON, BLONDEL.
+  Call you _then_ mere _bric-à-brac_
+    Triolet and rondel?!
+
+  'Pon my word, _I_ don't much care
+    If you prove your thesis.
+  Poetry's not _my_ affair--
+  'Pon my word, I don't much care!
+  My three triolets pray tear
+    As you please, to pieces!
+  'Pon my word, I don't much care
+    If _they_ prove your thesis!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The recent illuminations in Paris, it is said, were a very costly
+matter. Naturally, as an "_affaire de LUX(E)_."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+UNDER THE ROSE.
+
+(_A Story in Scenes._)
+
+SCENE XI.--_At the entrance to The Eldorado Music-hall._
+TIME--_Saturday evening, about_ 8.30. Mrs. TOOVEY, _who has just
+alighted from a Waterloo bus, approaches; she wears a veil, under
+which her spectacles gleam balefully, and passes the various boards
+and coloured posters with averted eyes_.
+
+_Mrs. Toovey_ (_to herself_). I'm late--I ought to have taken a cab,
+instead of that dawdling bus. Still, I shall be in plenty of time to
+surprise Pa in the very midst of his profligacy. (_She looks
+around her._) Gilding, rosewood and mahogany panels, plush, stained
+glass--oh, the wicked luxury of it all! (_She pushes open a swing
+door._) Where is the place you call Box C? I--I have to meet somebody
+there.
+
+    [_She finds herself in a glittering bar, where she produces a
+    distinct sensation among a few loungers there._
+
+_A Barmaid_ (_tartly_). There's no entrance to the music-hall this
+way. You've come to the wrong place.
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_with equal acidity_). Ah, young woman, you need not
+tell me _that_! (_She goes out with a withering glance, and hears
+stifled sniggers as the doors swing after her._) A drinking-bar on the
+very threshold to trap the unwary--disgraceful! (_She tries the next
+door, and finds a stalwart official, in a fancy uniform._) Will you
+have the goodness to conduct me to Box C, instantly?
+
+_The Official._ Next door, please, Ma'am. This only admits to the
+Grand Lounge.
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_to herself_). The "Grand Lounge," indeed! (_She opens
+another door, and finds a Pay-box, where she addresses the check-taker
+through the pigeon-hole_.) I want to go to Box C. I've asked for it at
+I don't know how many places, and----
+
+_Checktaker_ (_politely_). I'm really afraid you'll have to ask again,
+Ma'am. This is the Promenade. Box-office _next_ entrance.
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_to herself, indignantly_). I only hope they make it as
+difficult for other people to get in as they do for me! So Pa comes
+here to lounge and promenade, does he? Oh, let me only catch him, I'll
+send him promenading! (_She goes to the Box-office._) I want Box C,
+wherever that is.
+
+_Book-Keeper._ Can give you Box D, if you like. Box C is reserved for
+this evening.
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_sharply_). I am quite aware of that. For Mr. THEOPHILUS
+TOOVEY. I have come to join him here.
+
+_Book-K._ (_referring to book_). It is entered in that name,
+certainly; but--hem--may I ask if you belong to Mr. TOOVEY'S party?
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_crushingly_). No doubt you consider that his wife has
+no claim to---- Most certainly I belong to his party.
+
+_Book-K._ That is quite sufficient, Madam. (_To_ Attendant.) Show this
+lady to Box C. (_To himself, as_ Mrs. T. _follows the_ Attendant _up
+some velvet-covered stairs_.) Well, it's no business of mine; but if
+Mr. TOOVEY, whoever _he_ is, isn't careful what he's about, he may be
+sorry for it--that's all!
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_to herself_). They never even asked for my ticket.
+Pa's evidently well known here! (_To_ Attendant.) A programme? with
+pictures of dancing girls all over it! You ought to be ashamed to
+offer such things to a respectable woman!
+
+_Att._ (_surprised_). I've never heard them objected to before, Ma'am.
+Can I bring you any refreshments? (_Persuasively._) Bottle-ale or
+stout? Lemonade and brandy? Whisky and soda?
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ Don't imagine you can tempt _me_, man. I've been a total
+abstainer ever since I was five!
+
+_Att._ (_opening box-door_). Indeed, Ma'am. I suppose now you 'aven't
+mistook this for Exeter 'All?--because it _ain't_!
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ I am in no danger of making _that_ mistake! (_She enters
+the box._) I am here before Pa after all. What a gaudy, wicked,
+glaring place to be sure! Ugh, this _filthy_ tobacco; it chokes me,
+and I can scarcely see across the hall. Not that I _want_ to see.
+Well, if I sit in the corner behind the curtain I shan't be seen
+myself. To think that I--_I_--should be here at all, but the
+responsibility is on Pa's head, not mine! What are those two girls
+singing about on the stage? They are dressed _decently_ enough, I'll
+say _that_ for them, though pinafores and baby bonnets at _their_ age
+are ridiculous.
+
+    [_She listens._
+
+  _The Sisters Sarcenet_ (_on stage_).
+    You men are deceivers and awfully sly. Oh, you _are_!
+
+  _Male portion of audience_ (_as is expected from them_).
+        No we _aren't!_
+
+  _The Sisters S._ (_archly_). Now you _know_ you are!
+      You come home with the milk; should your poor wife ask why,
+      "Pressing business, my pet!" you serenely reply.
+      When you've really been out on the "Tiddle-y-hi!" Yes, you _have_!
+
+  _Male audience_ (_as before_). No, we've _not_!
+  _The Sister S._ (_with the air of accusing angels_).
+        Why, you _know_ you have!
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_to herself_). It's to those young women's credit that
+they have the courage to come here and denounce the men to their
+faces--like this. And it's gone _home_ to them, too! they're shouting
+out "Over!" (_Here the Sisters suddenly turn a couple of "cart-wheels"
+with surprising unanimity, amidst roars of applause._) Oh, the
+shameless minxes! I will _not_ sit and look on at such scandalous
+exhibitions. (_She moves to the corner nearest the stage, and turns
+her back upon the proceedings._) How much longer will Pa compel me to
+assist at such scenes, I wonder? _Why_ doesn't he come? Where is he
+now? (_Bitterly._) No doubt on what those vulgar wretches would call
+the "Tiddle-y-hi!" (_The_ Brothers BIMBO, _Eccentric Clowns, appear on
+the stage_.) I can't sit here in a corner looking at nothing. If I do
+see anything improper, THEOPHILUS shall answer for it. (_She changes
+her place again._) Acrobats--well, they're inoffensive at least. Oh, I
+do believe one of the nasty things is climbing up to the balcony; he's
+going to walk along here!
+
+_First Brother Bimbo_ (_on stage, to his confrère, who is balancing
+himself on the broad ledge of the box tier_). Ohè--'old up, there.
+Prenny garde! Ah, il tombera! There, I _told_ yer so! (_The_ Second
+Brother B. _has reached the front of_ Mrs. TOOVEY'S _box, where he
+pretends to stumble_.) Oh, le pover garçong, look at 'im _now_! Come
+back, do! Ask the lady to ketch 'old of your trousers be'ind!
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_to the_ Second Brother, _firmly_). Don't expect me to
+do anything of the sort. Go back, as your brother asks you to, you
+silly fellow. You shouldn't attempt such a foolhardy thing at all!
+
+_Second Br. B._ (_to the_ First). Oh, my! There's _such_ a nice young
+lady in here; she's asking me to come in and set along with her! _May_
+I?
+
+    [_He lets himself drop astride the ledge, and wags his head
+    at_ Mrs. TOOVEY, _to her intense horror_.
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_in an audible undertone_). If you don't take away that
+leg at once, I'll pinch it!
+
+_Second Br. B._ Eh? Not _now_; my brother says I mustn't. "Come round
+afterwards?" Well, well, we'll see! (_He springs up on the ledge
+again, and kisses his hand to her._) Goo'bye, ducky! 'Ave no fears for
+_me_. Whoo-up!
+
+[Illustration: "Goo'bye, ducky! Ave no fears for _me_!"]
+
+    [_He continues his tour of the balcony, amidst roars of
+    laughter._
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_falling back in the box, speechless with fury_). And
+_this_ is the treatment Pa exposes me to--all those unmanly wretches
+laughing at me! But I don't care; here I stay till Pa comes. _Oh_,
+this smoke; I shall be poisoned by it soon! Upon my word, there's
+a bold hussy coming on to sing, in a man's coat and black satin
+knee-breeches. I'll stop my ears; they shall see there's _one_
+woman here who respects herself! (_She does so, during that and the
+subsequent performances; an hour passes._) How much longer am I to be
+compelled to remain here? This is terrible; three creatures in tight
+red suits, got up to look like devils! I wonder they've no fear of
+being struck dead on the stage! They're standing on each other's
+stomachs. I daren't look on at such blasphemy! I'll take off my
+spectacles; then, at least, my eyes won't be offended by seeing
+anything distinctly! (_She removes her glasses, and replaces them in
+their case, which she lays on the box-ledge._) They're gone, thank
+goodness. What's this? There's someone opening the box-door. Pa--at
+last! Well, I'm ready for him!
+
+    [_She stiffens in her chair._
+
+_Attendant's Voice_ (_outside_). This is Box C, Miss. Can I bring you
+any refreshments? Bottle-ale, stout, lemonade, Miss?
+
+_A Female Voice._ I--I don't know. There's a gentleman with me; he'll
+be here directly; he only stopped to speak to somebody. Ah, he's
+coming now.
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ "Miss"?! This is Pa's party, then. _Oh!!_
+
+    [_A quietly dressed, and decidedly good-looking girl enters,
+    and starts on seeing that the box is already occupied._
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_rising in towering wrath_). You were not expecting to
+find _me_ here, Miss, I've no doubt?
+
+_The Girl_ (_sitting down_). No; PHIL didn't say there would be anyone
+else; but any friend of his I'm sure----
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ PHIL? you dare to call him "PHIL!" Do you know who I am,
+you insolent girl, you? I am his Wife!
+
+_The Girl._ His wife? I don't believe it. Are you sure you don't mean
+his mother. My _Phil_ married to _you_, indeed--a pretty story!
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_trembling with rage_). Go out of this box instantly, or
+I'll make you!
+
+_The Girl._ I shall do nothing of the kind. Wait till my friend comes,
+and we'll soon----(_As the door opens._) PHIL, PHIL, here's an abusive
+old female here who pretends she is your wife, and wants to order me
+out. I believe she must either be intoxicated or out of her senses!
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_pouncing upon the newcomer and boxing his ears
+soundly_). Is she? it is you who are out of _your_ senses, Pa! Take
+that--and _that_--and now come home with me, do you hear?
+
+_The Newcomer_ (_with his hand to his cheek_). "Pa," am I? I thought
+I was your _husband_ just now! Well, I must have married before I
+was born, either way. And now, perhaps, you'll explain what all this
+means?
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_faintly_). Oh, my goodness! I've made a dreadful
+mistake; it _isn't_ Pa! Let me go--let me go!
+
+_The Newc._ (_putting his back against the door_). Not yet, Ma'am; not
+yet. You don't go like this; after insulting this young lady, to whom
+I've the honour of being engaged, and telling her you're my wife, and
+then smacking my face in her presence. I've my dignity to consider,
+and I want satisfaction out of you. Come, we won't have a row here,
+for the sake of this young lady; just step out into lobby here, and
+I'll give you in charge for assault. Stay where you are, MILLY, my
+dear. Now, Ma'am, will you go, or shall I send for a constable?
+(Mrs. T. _totters out, protesting incoherently, and begging to be
+released_.) Well, I don't want to spoil my evening's pleasure on your
+account. You give me your name and address, and I'll simply summon you
+for assault; which is more than you deserve. If you won't, I'll charge
+you!
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_reluctantly_). Oh, indeed it was an acc----I will
+_not_ give you my name. Yes, yes, I will; anything to get out of this
+horrible place. (_The young man produces a pencil, and pulls down
+his left shirt cuff._) Mrs.--TOO--no, I don't mean TOO--TOMKINSON
+JONES--The--the Laburnums--U--upper Tooting. There, _now_ are you
+satisfied?
+
+_The Young Man_ (_recording it_). Thank you, that's all _I_ require.
+You'll hear from me later on. Good evening!
+
+_Mrs. Toov._ (_as she crawls down the staircase_). I have only just
+saved myself by a--a _fib_! And I haven't even found Pa out. But I
+_will_. I'll go straight home and sit up for him!
+
+END OF SCENE XI.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: IMPROVED GNOMENCLATURE.
+
+(_A popular Song adapted to the Glacial Period._)
+
+"ON AN ICICLE MADE FOR TWO."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+FRAGMENTS FROM A FRANCO-RUSSIAN PHRASE-BOOK.
+
+(_Picked up at Toulon after the recent Fêtes._)
+
+AT THE BANQUET.
+
+I am glad to be next to a Russian. Believe me, France has always been
+the best friend of Russia.... No, _that_ was not France--it was the
+Corsican. Altogether a different thing.... _Were_ we at the Crimea? It
+is possible--through the perfidy of those English.... Try some of this
+old sherry. Your shark-fin soup is delicious.... As I was saying, we
+are a Republic now, and adore Liberty.... Siberia must be a charming
+place, and the climate ravishing. You have never been there? A
+pleasure to come!... Take a _carafe_ of champagne--there is plenty
+more. We are a democratic nation, and the hearts of our populace go
+out to an autocrat. I know well that all autocrats are not nice--but
+_yours!!_ _Do_ have some more champagne.... These are _Cailles
+Schuvaroff_. They are Russian--so they _must_ be good!... Do you know
+that my wife and I kissed the hands of (_ten--fifteen--fifty--two
+hundred_) Russian sailors through the portholes of your flagship this
+afternoon?... Not at all--we quite enjoyed it.... There is a proposal
+to present your Admiral with a model of the Tour Eiffel in brilliants.
+I remember it was exhibited in Paris at a franc for admission--but
+few people went. I wish he may get it. I subscribed ten
+(_Napoleons--francs--centimes_) towards the fund for presenting
+commemorative brooches to the wives, daughters, and sweethearts of
+your seamen. I hope they will all arrive quite safely.... Have you
+received a silver cup with a suitable inscription? Only a yellow
+champagne-glass with a motto! That is mean, miserable, shabby! I will
+speak to a waiter about it.... Why do you not drink? Fill your glass.
+I am filling mine.... Have you heard that our warm-hearted nation has
+forwarded to the Russian Fleet one hundred cases of the best blacking?
+The Triple Alliance is trembling in its shoes.... You drink nothing!
+All the same, it seems to me your Tsar might have sent _more_ ships
+while he was about it. Yes, I repeat; more--and bigger ones. It would
+have been more polished. But you Russians are _not_ polished; you are
+cold, brutal, phlegmatic. You remind me of an Englishman I once saw
+on the stage of the Variétés. But he had red whiskers, and said, "Aoh,
+yes!" You drink too much. The Russians are all intemperate--it is the
+climate. So long as you help us to our revenge, we do not care _what_
+you are. I speak quite frankly. This is a great day for France. As
+a Frenchman, I shall never see caviar again without a thrill of
+heartfelt emotion. But your shark-fin soup was disgusting--beastly. It
+is that which is making me so ill.... _Au revoir_, dear friend. I am
+going under the table for a little while--to think.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mrs. R. wants to know what was the classic story about Ajax and
+Telephone? "So," says she, "as _that_ was hundreds of years ago, it
+isn't such a _very_ new invention."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: UNCALLED-FOR REVELATIONS.
+
+_Tommy_ (_to Caller_). "OH, WE'VE BEEN HAVING SUCH FUN! PAPA HAS BEEN
+PUTTING ON MAMMA'S HAIR AND FRIGHTENING BABY!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+LITTLE MASTER MINORITY.
+
+_A Dialogue in Dialect, some way after Bret Harte's "Jim."_
+
+    [Referring, in the course of conversation, to the deadlock
+    in the Senate, Mr. CHAMBERLAIN said:--"My opinion is that the
+    Americans are the most patient people on the globe. Such
+    an outcome from an organised system of obstruction would be
+    impossible in England, which I venture to say, with my foot on
+    New York soil, is far more democratic than America. Democracy,
+    as I take it, means the government of the people by the
+    people."--_The "Times'" New York Correspondent, Oct. 13._]
+
+  "C[oe]lum, non (?) animum, mutant, qui trans mare currunt."
+
+_Jonathan to Joseph, loquitur:_--
+
+  Say thar! P'r'aps
+  You're of them chaps
+  _Approve_ this child,
+  Who makes _me_ wild!--
+  _No?_--no offence:
+  Thar ain't much sense
+    In gittin' riled!
+
+  JOE, old chum,
+    Welcome ye are!
+  Say! Ye've jest come
+    Up from down thar.
+  Lookin' round, JOE?
+    That's right, Sir! _You_
+    Ain't of that crew
+      Makes freedom rar'.
+
+  _Tory?_ Not much,
+    That ain't _my_ kind:
+  I ain't no such,--
+    Democrat--blind!
+  Rayther like _you_!
+
+  Well, this yer boy
+  (With his derned toy),
+  Is a fair limb.--
+  Not much--in size!
+  Stirs _your_ surprise?--
+  Wal, that _is_ strange:
+    _Your_ nipper, now,
+    Riz up some row,
+  Down under thar,
+  Ony this year!
+
+  Since you came here.
+    You've felt a change!
+  Wal, he licks _us_!
+        Eh?
+  _Spank him_, you say!
+        _Spank?_--
+  _This_ little cuss?
+
+  You make me star,--
+  Down under, thar,
+  Minorities stop
+  Truck--in your shop,
+  And _you_ don't rar'!
+    Here, wide awake
+    To our mistake.
+  _Our_ boy you bar!
+
+        _Spank!_--
+  This--little--cuss?
+  Wal, he does fuss,
+  Raises a muss.
+    His "Silver" whim,
+  His spoutin' prank--
+    (Leather-lung'd limb!)
+  Does crab the swim.
+    _Should_ like to yank
+      Him crost my knees,
+    And--but thar! spank
+        _Him?_
+
+  _Patient_, Sir--I?
+    No democrat?
+  Here, Sir, stand by!
+    I can't stand _that_!
+  _You_ wouldn't stand
+  _Him_--in your land?
+        Eh?
+  What's that you say?
+  Why, dern it!--sho!--
+  Draw it mild, JOE!
+
+        Bold?
+  Obstruction? Yes!
+  Still, as I guess--
+  Though I'll confess
+    _You_'re an authority--
+  'Tain't no new thing
+  (_You_'ve had your fling!),
+    But ornery,
+      Derned old,
+    Loud-lunged--Minority!
+      Little--Master--Minority!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
+
+_Barabbas_ is a romance by MARIE CORELLI, founded upon the narrative
+given by the Four Evangelists. It is in three volumes, and _Barabbas_
+is the principal character. Oratorios have been composed musically
+illustrating the sacred story, mystery plays there have been showing
+it forth in action, but never yet have we been taken, as it were,
+behind the scenes, introduced to JUDAS ISCARIOT'S sister, and been
+informed as to the motives of human action underlying "the World's
+Tragedy." Whether "the stock of _Barabbas_" hath been sold out or not,
+the Baron cannot imagine that this novel form of treating Holy Writ
+will ever be popular with any section of our ordinary reading public.
+MARIE CORELLI is a writer as picturesque as prolific, but she has
+wasted her time and talents on this romance. There used to be a
+perversion of the text, which took this form, "Now BARABBAS was--a
+publisher" (was it SYDNEY SMITH'S jest?); but if that applies
+nowadays, the publisher who depended solely upon this particular work
+for his success would, probably, far nearer resemble ZACCHEUS than
+BARABBAS, inasmuch as he might find himself "up a tree."
+
+_Catriona_ is written by R. L. STEVENSON, and published in one volume
+by CASSELL & CO. "Aweel, aweel, mon!" quoth the Baron, after several
+praiseworthy attempts at mastering the Scotch dialect in which the
+story is told; "aweel, aweel! I am swier to leave ye, _Catriona_!
+But it maun be as it will; I'm nane sae muckle learned in your Scotch
+tongue; sae I'll e'en put doun the book, or I'll be wearyful, deil hae
+'t!" No: Scotch the Baron cannot manage--except taken as whiskey. But
+he will tell those who love the language that MCSTEVENSON'S _Catriona_
+they will enjoy to their heart's content. All the same it remains a
+mystery to the Baron de B. W.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+IN HIGH FEATHER.--It would not be fair even, for Mr. HUDSON, to define
+all ladies wearing feathers as "a Feather-headed Lot."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: LITTLE MASTER MINORITY.
+
+BROTHER JONATHAN. "WA'AL, MR. JOSEPH; I GUESS ALL YOUR SYMPATHIES ARE
+WITH THIS LITTLE CUSS?"
+
+MR. CHAMBERLAIN. "NOT AT ALL, NOT AT ALL,--ON _YOUR_ SIDE OF THE
+ATLANTIC!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE BOOM IN BEETLES--THE LATEST FROM AFRICA.
+
+["The new arrival at the Zoo is a specimen of the Goliath Beetle from
+West Africa--a giant even among its own kind."--_Daily Graphic._]]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+TO A LOST FRIEND.
+
+(_By a Briefless Barrister._)
+
+  No more! alas! completely gone,
+    No shadow of a trace is left,
+  And I have still to linger on,
+    Of your companionship bereft,
+  And fight the battle to the end,
+  As best I may with one less friend.
+
+  It seems a cruel stroke of Fate.
+    How eagerly I watched you grow!
+  How much I loved you; how elate
+    When other people came to know
+  On what I always had insisted--
+  That you in point of fact existed.
+
+  I played with you, who every day
+    Grew more responsive to my touch.
+  I stroked you in the gentlest way,
+    With sweet caresses. Ah! how much
+  We seemed, as though a child and mother,
+  To be bound up in one another.
+
+  You _did_ appear to like me then,
+    No mere lip-service seemingly
+  Was that you rendered to me when
+    You never contradicted me,
+  But hung upon my words, though true
+  It also was they hung on you.
+
+  And then one day you disappeared,
+    Cut off in life's most sunny prime.
+  I missed you sadly as I feared
+    And thought I should do at the time.
+  Though now your image comes and plain
+  Grows on me sometimes once again.
+
+  Oh! my moustache! I did the deed,
+    I own it frankly, I alone.
+  I felt it (for it made me bleed),
+    Yet still you always must have known,
+  Though you were of proportions regal,
+  You hardly helped me to look legal.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A TRIUMPH IN COOKERY.--When the Cook makes a hash of the marrow-bones.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"HE IS A MANN, TAKE HIM FOR ALL IN ALL, WE NEVER WANT TO LOOK UPON HIS
+LIKE AGAIN." (_Shakspeare adapted_).--It is said he is going to join
+the Ministry--not the Cabinet--but that of the Established Church. But
+how will so independent a spirit ever submit to "take orders" from an
+Archbishop? This is to reduce himself from a MANN to a Mannikin. Not
+likely.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+UP TO DATE TRANSLATION.--"_Qu'est-ce qu'il y a sur le tapis?_"
+asked the Frenchman. "You mean 'what's on the tape?'" returned the
+Englishman.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE IDEAL DRAMA.
+
+  Oh think what a change would soon be wrought
+    In sins society now condones,
+  Were virtue and honesty properly taught
+    By Comedy's smiles and Tragedy's groans!
+  The peer, the scholar, the fool, the fop,
+    Could learn deportment, high-class, tip-top,
+  From a _Dancing Girl_ in a _Bauble Shop_--
+    At least so thinks Mr. H. A. JONES.
+
+  We shall call it "the work," and not "the play,"
+    When due solemnity prompts the tones
+  Of serious actors, more grave than gay;
+    They may be bores, but they won't be drones.
+  So learn, should you wish to have a spree,
+    What your Criterion ought to be,
+  Or the _Tempter_ will put you up a Tree.
+    Hear eloquent Mr. H. A. JONES!
+
+  Amusement? What! Do you dare to think
+    That those respectable classic crones,
+  Melpomene, Thalia, they should sink
+    To make you laugh, like a nigger Bones?
+  If you should expect to be amused,
+  Your money would simply be refused,
+  And you would be turned away, abused
+    By furious Mr. H. A. JONES.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: THE ETERNAL FITNESS OF THINGS.
+
+"AND WHAT IS YOUR NAME?"
+
+"MARIAN WATSON. BUT MY LAST MISTRESS USED TO CALL ME MARY, BECAUSE
+MARIAN ISN'T A PROPER NAME FOR A SERVANT, SHE SAID."]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+REPARTEES FOR THE RAILWAY.
+
+"Smoking not allowed." Of course, but I am going to enjoy my cigar in
+silence.
+
+"Want the window closed." Very sorry, but I can't find a cathedral.
+
+"Find my journal a nuisance." Dear me! was under the impression it was
+a newspaper.
+
+"Allow you to pass." Afraid only the Secretary can manage that for
+you; he alone has power to issue free tickets.
+
+"Do I mind the draught?" Not when I am attending to the chessman.
+
+"Do I know the station?" Of the people on the platform? Probably lower
+middle class.
+
+"Is this right for Windsor?" Yes, if it's not left for somewhere else.
+
+"Are we allowed five minutes for lunch?" Think not; but you can have
+sandwiches at the counter.
+
+"Isn't this first-class?" Quite excellent--first-rate--couldn't be
+better!
+
+"I want to go second." Then you had better follow me.
+
+"I am third." Indeed! And who were first and second?
+
+"I think this must be London." Very likely; if it is, it mustn't be
+anywhere else.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A CRY TO WHYMPER.--Last Wednesday Mr. EDWARD WHYMPER lectured at the
+Birkbeck. His subject was "_Twenty thousand feet above the Sea._"
+"That's ten thousand pairs of boots!" writes our shoemaker. "Wish I'd
+had the order! Well, well, soled again!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A WALK IN DEVON.
+
+PART I.--THE START.
+
+_Notes from the Travel Diary of Toby, M.P._
+
+  _The Cottage, Burrow-in-the-Corner, Devon._
+
+Went out for a walk just now; nothing remarkable in that; the wonder
+came in when I got back. Present postal address given at head of this
+note. The Cottage is there all right, but where the township, hamlet,
+village, or whatever Burrow-in-the-Corner may be, is situated, haven't
+the least idea, and I've tramped pretty well round the country. The
+Cottage stands at four cross roads, on the top of a hill. Specks in
+the distance, in the valley and on the hillsides, understood to be
+farm-houses. Three miles off is Tipperton; it is approached from this
+point by a steep hill: most convenient way of getting to bottom is to
+lie down on top and roll; some people said to have become adepts in
+practise; can even enjoy quiet sleep on the way, and pull up at the
+very shop in High Street where they have business. So it is said; but
+I rarely see any people about Burrow-in-the-Corner; so how can they
+approach Tipperton in this or other way? The only persons that pass
+The Cottage palings are men who stop to ask their way. The population
+is sparse, and seems to fill up its time by losing itself. This should
+have been a warning to me, but it wasn't.
+
+The Cottage been standing here for at least two hundred years. Began
+life as a smithy; only recently retired from business. The initials of
+one of its tenants are "R. B." He has carved the letters on the front
+door, with the date, 1813, following it. Fancy he must have been
+pretty old then, for, two years later, he cuts his initials again
+with date 1815; the writing quite shakey; possibly he had heard of
+Waterloo, and his hand was tremulous with patriotic joy. On second
+thought, that improbable. News of Waterloo not likely to have reached
+Burrow-in-the-Corner within limit of twelve months.
+
+The smithy still stands as "R. B." left it when his bellows blew their
+last gasp. The Cottage itself transformed. The thatched roof remains;
+also the whitewashed walls, the porch, the little windows embayed in
+thick walls, which quite naturally form window-seats, where, if you
+take care not to bang your head, you may sit at ease, and look out
+over the swelling upland--rich red where it has just been ploughed;
+for the most part green pastures trending down to the Exe, a silver
+stream, rippling on to the sea, reckless of all it will pass through
+before it joins it. We have a parlour, but prefer to sit in the
+kitchen, a dainty room with gleaming dark-red sideboard; a kitchener,
+polished to distraction, so that looking-glasses are superfluities; a
+piano in recess by fireplace; a chimney-piece, on which gleam copper
+pans, brass candlesticks, and pewter plates, with their initials and
+ancient birth-dates polished almost out of sight; white-curtained
+windows, bright with begonias and cyclamen; a low ceiling, supported
+by a pragmatical beam, strictly conforming to the regulation that
+forbids a straight line in the room.
+
+Have discovered that kitchen is best place in house to dine in; only
+drawback is that everything served so unexpectedly hot, new-comers
+scald themselves. Soon grow used to it, and to get grilled mushrooms
+served really hot is compensation for inconvenience. As for pancakes
+(made with freshly-laid eggs), begin to think I never tasted the real
+delicacy before. Your true pancake, as BRILLAT-SAVARIN omitted to say
+in his well-known treatise, should be eaten to the music of the one
+in the pan preparing to follow. When we go back to town, mean to ask
+servants to sit in dining-room whilst we dine in kitchen.
+
+When I speak of going back to town, of course I imply the certainty
+of being able to find our way out of Burrow-in-the-Corner to nearest
+railway station.
+
+Seems a good deal to have four cross roads all to yourself at your
+front door. The Cottage scarcely of sufficient importance to justify
+such lavish accommodation. But in these parts the amount of arable
+land wasted in roads and lanes is almost criminal. It was a Saturday
+evening when I went out to find the post-office. Nothing seemed
+plainer than instructions.
+
+[Illustration: LIKA JOKO'S JOTTINGS.--No. 2. PHEASANT SHOOTING.]
+
+"Go straight down the road facing you, and you'll come to a church.
+Close by it is a house; letter-box inserted in side of house; box
+painted red, you know."
+
+Of course I knew; set off with a light heart and handful of letters.
+A little way down high road, on right-hand side, lane suddenly opened
+and delved downwards, its sinuous course embowered in trees; where
+they failed, barricaded with hedges. High road seemed originally bent
+upon taking this direction; changed its mind; turned abruptly to left.
+Suppose a few traps driven down hill must occasionally have taken this
+dip; feeble attempt to avoid too frequent recurrence of accident made
+by setting posts on line of high road, and painting tops white. If,
+after this, anyone on pitch-dark night mistakes road, only themselves
+to blame. Other roads and lanes perplexingly branching out to right
+and left at short intervals; kept on steadily till church came in
+view; found the house; not difficult, as there was only one; also
+discovered letter-box painted red. Twenty minutes to five was hour for
+clearing box; barely that; posted letters. Turning away when observed
+remark on letter-box, "Next collection Monday."
+
+Pretty go, this; postman evidently been before his time; no sign of
+him on wide expanse. Looking round perceived Elderly Gentleman sitting
+in garden behind house; doubtless this was the householder; apparently
+had anticipated Sunday by putting on best clothes; black frock coat,
+getting brown about the seams; high collar, nearly covering black
+stock; black waistcoat, which seemed to belong to other suit than the
+coat; (was buttoned close up over stock, whilst coat, with generous
+lapels folded back, buttoned low down); brown trousers, a little short
+in leg; stout green umbrella under left arm. Elderly Gentleman was
+sitting on rustic bench, with cup of cider at hand, and expression of
+serene content on his wrinkled face. A quaintly-coloured cup, with two
+handles close together, presumably with view to taking a good pull
+at contents. "Bin my grandfather's," he said, looking at it with
+affection, and incidentally half emptying it. There was a motto
+roughly scrawled by the potter; Elderly Gentleman read it to me:
+
+              Erth I am et es most trew,
+              Disdain me not for so be yew.
+
+Thus it was spelled, but no one born out of Devon could convey the
+tremendous sound of the _u_ in the rhyming words. This peculiar to the
+soil; even barndoor fowls have it; notice that gamecock at The
+Cottage when it wakes me early in the morning, always shrilly pipes
+"cock-a-doodle-_dew_!" Asked Elderly Gentleman if he lived here?
+Born in the house, he said. Was he going for a walk? No, only sitting
+about. Then why the umbrella? Ah! he always took it out of drawer with
+his Sunday clothes, and put it under his arm, if he was only sitting
+in the garden.
+
+But that's another story, told me after we had caught the postman.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"THE ART OF 'SAVOY FARE.'"
+
+Mr. D'OYLY CARTE is to be heartily congratulated on his brilliant
+mounting of Messrs. GILLIVAN and SULBERT'S most recent production
+entitled _Utopia (Limited)_. "Limited" it is in more senses than one.
+As there was, according to the immortal _Cyrus Bantam, M.C._, when he
+was giving his information to _Mr. Pickwick_, "nobody old or ugly in
+Ba-ath," so there is on "the spindle side" no one old or ugly on the
+stage of the Savoy Theatre. And this, too, with a difference, applies
+to Sir ARTHUR'S music, in which if there be nothing particularly
+new--and the old familiar friends receive the heartiest welcome--there
+is at all events nothing dull, even though it may "hardly ever" rise
+above mere commonplace. Occasionally there is a snatch of sweet melody
+that brings to mind the composer's happiest inspirations, whether in
+oratorio or burlesque.
+
+As to dramatic plot--well, strictly speaking, there is none; and it
+would be difficult to name a single telling "situation," in _Utopia
+(Limited)_. The Monarch of Utopia wishes to introduce English customs
+into his kingdom; there is a court party opposed to this innovation:
+that's the essence of it. In the First Act the one hit, is the
+introduction of _Captain Corcoran_ from _The Pinafore_ of years
+ago, and the repetition of the once popular catch-phrase about "What
+never?" and "Hardly ever," which, taken as applying to our most recent
+tragical ironclad disaster, is thoroughly appreciated. Beyond this,
+as far as dialogue and music go, in the First Act there is very little
+anyone would care to "carry away with him" after a first visit. And
+if that little were carried away the residuum would offer scant
+attraction.
+
+[Illustration: THE UNION OF ARTS. "Again we come to thee,
+Savoy."--_Old Duet._]
+
+As for the Second Act, with its Royal Drawing-room scene, its splendid
+costumes, and its mimicry of Court etiquette, have we not witnessed a
+similar spectacle on a larger scale in a Drury Lane Pantomime, not so
+very many years ago? And was not that arranged by the same artistic
+stage-manager, who is now, by a wise dispensation of theatrical
+providence, in command at the Savoy, yclept Mr. CHARLES HARRIS? I
+fancy the Drury Lane Pantomime had the best of it in point of broad
+fun, as, if I remember right, HERBERT CAMPBELL was the Queen, and
+HARRY NICHOLLS the King. Before this scene is the principal hit of
+the Second Act, when the King, Mr. BARRINGTON,--to whom author and
+composer are under considerable obligations for the success of
+the piece, and without whose acting, dancing, and singing the
+entertainment would fare indifferently well,--with his counsellors,
+an admiral, a Lord Chamberlain, and so forth, place their chairs in
+a row, and detaching from the back of each seat a musical instrument,
+turn themselves into a St. James's ("Hall" not "Court") Christy
+Minstrel Company, Unlimited, of which Mr. BARRINGTON, as the _Mr.
+Johnson_, is the life and soul. Is this the remarkably original
+creation of the united intellects of Messrs. GILBERT and SULLIVAN?
+Have they ever heard of, or did either of them ever see a burlesque
+entitled _Black Eye'd Susan_ at the Royalty, which ran a long way over
+six hundred nights, and in later days was revived at the Opera
+Comique and elsewhere? I will quote from the _Times_' notice of that
+burlesque:--
+
+    "The court-martial arranged after the fashion of the
+    Christy's orchestra, every admiral being dressed in a colour
+    corresponding to his title, an actual 'nigger' figuring as
+    Admiral of the Black, is another odd device which keeps the
+    audience in a roar."
+
+And it is this "odd device," with a Lord Chancellor, if I remember
+right, or some legal luminary in black, for one of the "corner men,"
+which is, after all is said, sung, and done, just the one thing (of
+the two in the show) that brings down the house, and is applauded
+to the echo as the outcome of the combined whimsical originality of
+Messrs. GILBERT and SULLIVAN! Imitation being the sincerest flattery,
+the author of _Black Eye'd Susan_ must be indeed gratified by this
+tribute to his original success paid by the librettist and the
+composer of _Utopia_, and having no further use for this particular
+bit of humour, he will, no doubt, be willing to make a present of it,
+free of charge, for nightly use, to the distinguished Savoyards as a
+practical congratulation to the pair of them on their return to the
+scene of some of their former triumphs.
+
+Mr. BARRINGTON is the life and soul of the show; withdraw him, and
+then there would be precious little left to draw, excepting, of
+course, the _mise en scène_, due to Messrs. HARRIS and CARTE, if I may
+put the HARRIS before the CARTE,--and to the Scenic Artist, CRAVEN.
+Nor must I forget to mention the Electric Lightists, Messrs. LYONS and
+KERR, which last is a queer combination of names, from the king of
+the forest to the lowest of snappy dogs. Miss ROSINA BRANDRAM is, of
+course, excellent in what she has to do, and Miss NANCY MCINTOSH is
+equal to the occasion of her appearance. PERCY ANDERSON'S costumes are
+gorgeous and artistic; and to the "Parisian Diamond Company" are due
+the gems of the piece. The dances are by the ever fertile and agile
+D'AUBAN, and everybody who has contributed to the success of the show
+obtains honourable mention in the neat programme-card.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Inquirer" writes: "I see an advertisement of a series called '_The
+Aldine Poets_.' Exceptional bards I suppose, as I was always given
+to understand that poets rarely eat anything. Will this series be
+followed by '_The Allunch Poets_,' _The Allbreakfast Poets_,' and
+'_The Allsup Poets'_? The last-mentioned, of course, will sing in
+praise of ALLSUP'S Ale."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+Missing or damaged punctuation has been repaired.
+
+
+Page 197: 'wav' corrected to 'way'
+
+"There's no entrance to the music-hall this way."
+
+Page 197: 'champage' corrected to 'champagne'
+
+"Take a _carafe_ of champagne--there is plenty more."
+
+Page 204: 'aRd' corrected to 'and'
+
+"What never?" and "Hardly ever," which, taken as applying to our
+most recent tragical ironclad disaster, is thoroughly appreciated.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari,
+October 28th 1893, by Various
+
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