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diff --git a/39362-8.txt b/39362-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f7415b1 --- /dev/null +++ b/39362-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1637 @@ +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 + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 39362-8.txt or 39362-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/3/6/39362/ + +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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