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diff --git a/39381.txt b/39381.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ee7fa9 --- /dev/null +++ b/39381.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1727 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, November +4th 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, November 4th 1893 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Sir Francis Burnand + +Release Date: April 5, 2012 [EBook #39381] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** 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, November 4th 1893 + +_edited by Sir Francis Burnand_ + + * * * * * + + + + +SELF-HELP. + +_Monday._--Am sick of paying all these doctor's bills. Have just seen +an advertisement of _The Domestic Doctor, a Dictionary of Medicine_, +issued in monthly parts. The very thing for a man like me, somewhat +delicate. Hasten to secure Part I. Shall now be able to doctor myself +and save all fees. Delightful! To celebrate emancipation ask JONES +and ROBINSON to dinner at club. No need for economy now. Jolly good +dinner. That club port is excellent. + +_Tuesday._--Feel rather seedy. Pain in head. No appetite. Just the +time to make use of _Domestic Doctor_. Capital book. Hullo! Well, I'll +be hanged! Never thought of that. The beastly thing's alphabetical, +and only gets to "Chilblain." No good to look out "Headache." Ah, +perhaps "Ache." No go. "Appetite?" But appetite isn't a disease, +except in men like BANTING. Absolutely no use whatever. Still, will +not be conquered. Shall get another part in a month. Until then take +great care only to have complaints up to Ch. Can always fall back +on Chilblain. Take it easy, with B. and S. in moderate doses when +required, and begin to feel better. + +_Wednesday._--Just cut my finger. Feel somewhat nervous. Remember +vaguely that lock-jaw often follows a wound on the hand. Ha! My +dictionary. "Cuts." Ah, no. "Cuts" come after "Chilblain." They will +be in Part II. Bandage wound, and prepare for the worst. Sit with +mouth wide open as best attitude for approaching lockjaw. Can then at +least be fed. If, however, it really comes, shall be dead before Part +VII. of the Dictionary is out. Anyhow, will not send for a doctor. + +_Thursday._--Hooray! Finger and jaw both well. Somehow left boot feels +uncommonly tight. Can't walk at all. That fool PHUST has made this +pair too narrow. Feels as though there were something on my toe. +By Jove, so there is! Where's the Dictionary? Chilblain? Can't be +a chilblain this mild weather. Of course not; it's a corn. Look out +"Corn." Oh, hang it, just too far! But, bright idea, perhaps it's a +bunion. Look out "Bunion." Hullo, what's this? "Bunion, see Corn." +Well, of all the confounded----Positively can't walk till next month. +Lie on sofa under open window to get as much air as possible. Fall +asleep. Heavy shower comes on. Get quite wet. + +_Friday._--Sneezing like mad, and coughing. Blow my cough! Blow my +nose! No good looking out "Cold" or "Cough" in Dictionary, unless--of +course "Catarrh." Seize my priceless treasure, and read, "Catarrh, +Latin _catarrhus_, from Greek"--oh, hang the derivation!--"an +affection of the mucous membrane, commonly called a cold. See Cold." +Foiled again! Must do what I can with domestic remedies till Part II. +comes out. Fires, hot grog, hot bath, hot gruel, lots of blankets. +Nearly suffocated. + +_Saturday._--Very much worse. Awful cough. Sit close to fire wrapped +in thick dressing-gown. JONES looks in. "Hullo, old man," he says, +"what's wrong? Seedy?" I choke out some answer. "Why don't you send +for the doctor?" In my indignation nearly burst my head with coughing. +At last show him Dictionary, and write on scrap of paper, "Can you +suggest some complaint like mine beginning with A or B, or C up +to Ch?" Impetuous fellow, JONES. Starts off wildly--"Influenza, +Pneumonia, Pleurisy, Diphtheria, Sore Throat, Inflammation of the +Lungs----" Then I manage to stop him, and to gasp, "Up to C." "No +difficulty about that," says he. "Cold. Cough----" I shake my head +feebly. "Well, then, Bronchitis." Of course. The very thing. Look it +out. "Bronchitis, from Greek"--blow the derivation!--"inflammation of +the membrane of the bronchia. This serious disease requires skilled +attention. Keep the patient warm, and send at once for a medical man." +What a miserable swindle, when I hoped to save all doctor's fees! Was +warm before. Simply boiling with indignation now. Pass the book to +JONES in speechless disgust. "Quite right too," he remarks; "just what +I said. Capital book! I'll send the doctor as I go home." And so he +does, in spite of my protests. Doctor comes and lays his head on my +chest. Then he says, cheerfully, "Only a little cough. You'll be all +right to-morrow. What's that you say? Bronchitis? Bosh!" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Horsey Party._ "AW--I WANT YOUR TABLE D'OAT DINNER!"] + + * * * * * + +A LAWYER'S CHORTLE. + +(_A long way after "The Throstle."_) + + Vacation is over, vacation is over, + I know it, I know it, I know it. + Back to the Strand again, home to the Courts again, + Come counsel and clients to go it. + + Welcome awaits you, High Court of Justice, + Thousands will flock to you daily. + "You, you, you, you." Is it then for you, + That we forget the Old Bailey? + + Jostling and squeezing and struggling and shoving, + What else were the Courts ever made for? + The Courts 'twixt the Temple and grey Lincoln's Inn, + They're not yet entirely paid for! + + Now till next year, all of us cry, + We'll say (for a fee) what we're bidden. + Vacation is over, is over, hurrah! + And all past sorrow is hidden. + + * * * * * + +THE PICKWICKIAN EXAMINATION PAPER.--Pickwickian students are well to +the front. The first answer to our question in last week's number +was sent from Maidstone. Fitting that it should come from DICKENS'S +favourite county, Kent. Yes. The only mention of champagne in +_Pickwick_ is when _Mr. Tupman_ drank a bottle of it after an +exhilarating quadrille. + + * * * * * + +DAMON OUT OF DATE. + + Here is the lovely summer going by, + And we know nought about it, you and I, + Being so far away + One from the other; yet to outward eye + We both are summer gay. + + And people talk; although no pulses stir + However much I laugh and dance with her, + My temporary fate; + And you, perhaps as carelessly, prefer + That one your will to wait, + + Who, the dance over, from his strict embrace + Gallantly frees you, mops his sun-tanned face, + And asks in accents low + Whether you'd like an ice, or what, in case + You breathe a doubtful "No." + + Oh, the striped awning and the fairy lamp, + The cool night fragrance, the insidious damp, + And, more insidious still, + The sweet effrontery of the beardless scamp + Who babbles at his will. + + Here, by the sea, which in the darkness sings, + On the free breeze I give my fancy wings, + And in a sudden shrine + Your image throned appears, while the wind swings + Its sea-incense divine. + + Breathless I worship in the waiting night + The sparkling eyes, that sometimes seem all light, + The cheek so purely pale, + The sacred breast, than whitest dress more white, + Where whitest thought must fail. + + Thin arms, with dimpled shadows here and there, + The curl'd luxuriance of your soft, dark hair + Its own bewitching wreath, + And perfect mouth that shows, in smiles too rare, + The radiant little teeth. + + You cannot live on dances and delights, + Or fetes by day and dance-music by nights. + Time foots it fleeter far + Than all the surging crowd your beauty smites + Like some coruscant star. + + The ruthless social dragon will not spare + Your sweet girl nature, withering in the glare, + Or peeping out by stealth. + Wealth's prize is beauty, and to make all fair, + Beauty's desire is wealth. + + I cannot keep a carriage for you, dear; + No horses on three hundred pounds a year + My lacking stables grace. + Yet the swift Hansom to the whistle clear + Will always speed apace. + + I cannot give you wines of vintage rare, + There is no room for them beneath the stair + Which is my cellar's space. + Yet with Duke HUMPHREY we could often fare + With more than ducal grace. + + Ah, loves, like books, are fated from the first, + One gets no cup of water for the thirst + The whole stream would not slake; + Another dims with tears the springs that burst + To sunshine for his sake. + + When this vain fervour sadly sobers down, + I'll love you still, white maid, with eyes so brown + And voice so passing sweet, + And haply with Apollo's laurel crown + My love's foredoomed defeat. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration] + +WHEN THE "CAT"'S AWAY! + +AIR--"_The Sergeant's Song._" + + When the "Cat" is not engaged in its employment-- + Right employment, + Of laying its nine tails on brutal backs-- + Brutal backs, + + Street gangs of roughs are free to find employment-- + Bad employment, + In beleaguering the cit's returning tracks-- + Homeward tracks. + + Our feelings we with difficulty smother--! + 'Culty smother, + At finding ruffian hordes at rowdy "fun"-- + Rowdy fun. + + Taking one consideration with another-- + With another, + One feels that something stringent should be done-- + Promptly done! + + There's the pistol-bearing burglar boldly burgling-- + Boldly burgling, + There's the female fiend engaged in cruel crime-- + Cruel crime. + There's the bashed, half-throttled traveller lying gurgling-- + Faintly gurgling, + And the "Cat" is lying idle all the time-- + All the time. + + There's the brutal bully kicking wife or mother-- + Wife or mother, + The unnatural father torturing his son-- + Childish son! + Ah, take one consideration with another-- + With another, + It's surely time that something stern were done-- + Quickly done! + + When the "Cat" was laid about the brute garrotter-- + Cur garrotter, + He soon found it inadvisable to choke-- + 'Ble to choke. + And the lout who of street-outrage is a plotter-- + Callous plotter, + Would not deem the nine-tailed lash a little joke-- + Pleasant joke. + + The woman-beating brute would hardly smother-- + Scarcely smother, + His howlings when the lash was well laid on-- + Well laid on. + So, take one consideration with another-- + With another, + The "Cat" should once again be called upon-- + Called upon. + + The "corner-boys," and larrikins, and suchlike-- + Louts and suchlike, + Who rove the streets at night in rowdy gangs-- + Robber-gangs, + The tingling o' the nine tails might not much like-- + _Would_ not much like, + But _that_ need not stir sentimental pangs-- + Maudlin pangs. + + "Gang-boy" to brute Garrotter is just brother-- + Simply brother. + The "Cat" away such vermin prowl--for "fun"-- + Savage fun! + Yes, take one consideration with another-- + With another, + The "Cat" should wake again, says _Punch_ for one-- + _Punch_ for one! + + The policeman seems unequal to the job-- + Toughish job. + The constabulary fails to quell the mob-- + Rowdy mob. + So, as, very plainly, something _must_ be done-- + Promptly done, + The suggestion of the "Cat"'s a happy one-- + Happy one! + + [_And Mr. Punch, with picture and poem_ (_grimly earnest, + though of Gilbertian tone_) _urges its application + energetically home, upon the powers that be_. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: AGRICULTURAL MANNERS. + +SCENE--_Hounds running across Land occupied by Non-sporting Tenant._ + +_Sportswoman._ "NOW, MY BOY, OPEN THE GATE, PLEASE, AND LET ME +THROUGH." + +_Young Hodge._ "MY ORTHERS IS--'JIM, YOU OPPENS THAT THERE G[=A]ATE +FOR NO MAN!' AND AR'M DENGED IF AR DIS _FOR A WOMAN!_"] + + * * * * * + +NOTE BY OUR OWN PHILOSOPHER. + +The breakfast-eating practical joker, who can be credited with the +humorous invention of placing the shell of an egg (the edible contents +of which he has previously extracted and swallowed) inverted in an +egg-cup, so as to deceive the first hungry person arriving late into +fancying that the others have considerately deprived themselves +in order that he may not be without his favourite delicacy, this +originator, I say, was decidedly a genius. His work after hundreds, +nay, thousands of years, remains, fresh as is the new laid egg itself! +After being used a million billion times, it gives now the same +pleasure as ever it did when it first issued from the brain of its +brilliant creator! Such a practical joke as this is "not for an age, +but for all time," until there shall be no longer left a hen to lay an +egg, or, if there be an egg left by the expiring hen, there shall be +no longer a person remaining to eat the egg left by the egg-spiring +hen; or, if the person and the egg be there, the last man and the last +egg, there shall be no ten minutes allowed for refreshment, as there +will be no more time for anything!! SOCRATES, HOMER, OVID, HORACE, +PLAUTUS, TERENCE, SHAKSPEARE, WATT, Sir ISAAC NEWTON, _cum multis +aliis_! their names are remembered, and their fame is to the end of +the world! While, alas, the name of the True Wit who first chuckled +over his stroke of genius, is lost for ever, no work of art +perpetuates his name. But his humour is _usque ad finem omnium rerum_! + + * * * * * + +MRS. R. is not surprised that the _Valkyrie_ did not win, when it +broke its pinnacle and did not have a centipede. + + * * * * * + +UNDER THE ROSE. + +(_A Story in Scenes._) + +SCENE XII.--_Another box at the Eldorado._ TIME--_About_ 9.30 P.M. + +_Enter_ Mrs. MERRIDEW _and_ ALTHEA, _followed by_ Colonel MERRIDEW and +Captain ALCHIN. + +_Mrs. Merridew._ FRANK, the man _did_ say WALTER WILDFIRE hasn't sung +yet, didn't he? Yes? then _that_'s all right! Oughtn't you and I to +sit at the back, THEA? Well, you shall have this corner at any rate, +and then the curtain will hide you. Captain ALCHIN, will you come +between us, please, and then you can explain any of the jokes we don't +understand. + + [_They settle down._ + +_Captain Alchin._ Pleasure! (_To himself._) Think I see myself +explainin' the jokes and that! (_Aloud._) Afraid I shan't be of much +use, really. Rather out of my line this sort of thing, you know! + +_Mrs. M._ I'm sure you must know more about it than Miss TOOVEY and I +do. Tell me who is this rather good-looking girl in kneebreeches with +the horrid voice and the blue eyelids, and why does she walk like +that? + +_Capt. Alch._ (_off his guard_). Oh, that's Miss LARDIE LUSHBOY; it's +her usual business--drinkin' song, young man about town, and all that. + +_Mrs. M._ There, you see, you know all about _her_! + + [Capt. A. _hastens to explain that her name is on the + programme_. + + _Miss Lardie_ (_sings_)-- + + See us lurch along in line, with a straggle serpentine, + + [_She suits the action to the word._ + + For we've done a heavy fuddle, and we never pass a "pub"! + And if you want a proof how we chuck about our "oof"-- + Why, come along and have a drink with the Rowdy Razzle Club! + +_Mrs. M._ I suppose that's intended as a satire on noisy young men, +isn't it, Captain ALCHIN? + +_Captain Alch._ (_who hadn't thought of it in that light_). +Well--ha--that depends on how you _take_ it, don't you know. + +_Mrs. M._ That's the way _I_ shall take it, and then it's quite moral. +(_A Low Comedian, in a broad-brimmed hat and a rough black wig, makes +his appearance_.) This must be WALTER WILDFIRE, I suppose. THEA, do +you see? he looks _quite_ nice, and not really vulgar. Now he's going +to sing. Isn't he too delightfully funny! What, FRANK? Not WILDFIRE? +Mr. ALF REDBEAK. Are you _sure_? I was wondering what there could +possibly be in such a common little man as that to make such a fuss +about. And _what_ language? Captain ALCHIN, what _does_ he mean by +saying that he was "dotted on the crust by a copper," and "went off +his onion"? + +_Capt. Alch._ (_who foresees rocks ahead if he once undertakes to +interpret_). Oh, well, they're always inventin' some new slang, you +know, Mrs. MERRIDEW; no use tryin' to keep up with it. + + [Miss CISSIE CINDERS _appears as a bedraggled maid of all + work, and sings a doleful ditty to the effect that_--"Her + missis will not let her wear no feathers in her 'at, so her + sojer's gone and given 'er the chuck." + +_Mrs. M._ (_delighted_). Isn't she refreshing--so _deliciously_ +vulgar! I do hope she hasn't finished. THEA, you're sitting as quiet +as a little mouse in that corner. I hope you're not too dreadfully +shocked? _I'm_ not--at least of course I am, really; but it's not +nearly so bad as I expected. + +[Illustration: "See us lurch along in line, with a straggle +serpentine."] + +_Althea._ Oh, I'm not in the least shocked, CISSIE, thanks; only I +don't quite understand it all. + +_Mrs. M._ My dear, no more do I. I don't understand _any_ of it--but +that makes no difference! + +_Alth._ (_To herself_). I don't like to say so, but I _am_ +disappointed. Mr. CURPHEW said it would be like a Penny Reading; but +it's not a bit, it's ever so much stupider. But he never goes himself, +so of course---- + +_Mrs. M._ It's quite a respectable audience; I thought we should +be the only people in evening dress, but we're not. I do wish they +wouldn't allow quite so much smoking, though; the atmosphere's getting +something too awful. Oh, THEA, do look in that box just opposite. Can +you see through that lace curtain? Ah, you can't see now! + +_Alth._ (_looking round the edge of the curtain_). Where, CISSIE, who +is it? + +_Mrs. M._ Why, quite the typical British Matron--_the_ most +tremendously proper-looking person; so if _she_ doesn't see any harm +in being here, I'm sure we needn't. I'll tell you when she pops her +her head out again. There, quick! THEA, quick! Did you see her that +time? + +_Alth._ (_faintly_). Y--yes. I--I saw her _that_ time. (_To herself._) +Is this a wicked conscience--or what? It was _so_ like Mamma! But how +could it be? + +_Mrs. M._ Did you _ever_ see such a grim old frump, THEA? I wonder +what possessed her to come to a place like this? She doesn't look as +if it was amusing her much. + +_Alth._ (_distractedly_). Doesn't she? (_To herself._) If it _should_ +be Mamma! If she has found out in some way that we were to be here +to-night and followed us! But how _could_ she know? Suppose she were +to see me, and--and come round and fetch me away; how awful it would +be! But she can't see me through these curtains. I don't believe it +_is_ Mamma. I--I wish I dared look again. Oh, why did I get CISSIE to +bring me here? + +_Capt. Alch._ May I borrow your opera glass for a moment, Mrs. +MERRIDEW? Thanks, awf'ly. (_As he looks through it._) There's goin' +to be a row in that opposite box. Your British Matron's gettin' her +quills up--give you my word she is. + +_Mrs. M._ Oh, do let me see! (_She holds out her hand for the glass, +which_ Capt. A. _surrenders_.) Yes, I do believe you're right. +Somebody's just come in and----Now there's another, a young man, +and--oh, THEA! + +_Alth._ (_in an agony_). What is it, CISSIE? _do_ tell me! (_To +herself._) It must be CHARLES--I'm sure it's CHARLES. Then _that_'s +why--and it _is_ Mamma! (_Aloud._) Mayn't I have the glass? + +_Mrs. M._ I think you had better not, dear. The British Matron has +boxed the poor young man's ears--she has really. I wonder what--but +well, it doesn't matter. Now she's turned him out of the box. He's +coming back--alone. Yes, the old lady has certainly gone--it's all +over. I'm _so_ sorry; it was ever so much more interesting than that +big fat man who's singing! + +_Alth._ (_tremulously_). Mayn't I look now, CISSIE, if it's all over? +(_She almost snatches the glass, and directs it at the young man in +Box C--then to herself, with relief._) Why, it isn't CHARLES--it's +not even like him. Then--oh, what a goose I've been! It wasn't Mamma +either. It was all my fancy, and she had on rather the same kind of +bonnet. As if Mamma would come to a music-hall and box the ears of +somebody she didn't know! But _what_ a fright it gave me! + + [_She begins to feel capable of enjoying the performance._ + +_Col. Merridew_ (_later_). Now we're going to see the great man, +CECILIA. WILDFIRE'S down to sing next. + +_Capt. Alch._ Don't you be too sure, FRANK. They haven't put the +number up yet, you see. As likely as not they'll put in an "extra +turn," and he won't come at all. I've known that happen lots of times +when you come on purpose to see somethin', don't you know. + +_Mrs. M._ Really, Captain ALCHIN, I shall begin to suspect that you +are more of an authority about music-halls than your modesty would +admit at first. + +_Capt. Alch._ (_in some confusion_). No, really now, Mrs. MERRIDEW, +all I mean is WILDFIRE'S bringin' out a play or somethin' to-night at +the Hilarity, so he mayn't be able to turn up here, don't you see. + +_Mrs. M._ I won't have you predicting evil like that; it's not at all +nice of you, and you're quite wrong, too; for there's his number in +the frame now! + + [_The Scene on the Stage changes once more from an Oriental + Palace to a London Street; a bell tingles; the Orchestra + dashes into the air of_ "The Hansom Cabman," _which the bulk + of the audience hail with delight; then a stream of limelight + is thrown on the boards, and_ WALTER WILDFIRE _appears_. + +_Mrs. M._ (_after the first verse_). I don't know what it is, but +there's something about him very different from all the others. And +they say he writes all his own songs and music--so clever of him! +Quite a striking face he has, rather handsome, with that drooping +moustache. Don't _you_ think he's handsome, THEA? (ALTHEA _does not +answer_; WILDFIRE _sings the last verse; as he concludes, the house is +hushed for an instant, and then breaks into a thunder of applause_.) +It's quite beautiful that last verse; poor, poor fellow! it all seemed +so real, somehow! Ah, he's not going to sing the last verse again. I'm +rather glad, for I very nearly howled, and it would be too silly to +cry at a music-hall. (_Interval._) Here he is again; how different he +looks. I suppose it's the sandwich-boards. (WILDFIRE _goes through +the second song with the small child; in the midst of the second +stanza, he suddenly falters, and only recovers himself by a violent +effort_; ALTHEA _has bent forward out of the shadow of the curtain_.) +It's too frightfully pathetic; he's such a dear, isn't he? (_The +applause is more rapturous than ever; an encore is clamoured for_; +WILDFIRE _reappears, looking ghastly pale, and makes a mute plea for +indulgence; after he has finally retired, the clamour still continues, +until the scene and the number are shifted_.) He won't sing +any more--how sad! Wasn't he charming with that child? (_In an +undertone._) Why, ALTHEA, darling! + +_Alth._ (_in a shaken voice_). D--don't speak to me just yet, CISSIE. +I know it's very foolish of me; but I can't bear it. + +_Capt. Alch._ (_to himself_). Gad, I'd give somethin' to sing like +that Johnny, and make her eyes shine like that! + +_Mrs. M._ FRANK, we may as well go now, there's nothing else worth +staying for, and I'm sure this horrid tobacco is ruining my poor +pearls; or would you rather stay a little longer, THEA? + +_Alth._ Oh, no, no; I don't want to hear anybody else--after that. +(_To herself, as_ Capt. A. _helps her on with her cloak_.) And that is +the man Mr. CURPHEW said nothing would induce him to go and see. And I +actually persuaded myself that---- But I am wiser now. He can never be +anything to me! + + [_She leaves the box with her party._ + +END OF SCENE XII. + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +COLONEL COLVILE chivalrously takes upon himself responsibility for +the title of the volume in which his wife has recorded their joint +experience of a trip round the coast of Africa. _Round the Black Man's +Garden_ is about as bad a title as a book could have. Happily, Mrs. +COLVILE'S clever travel notes triumphantly carry the weight. The +travellers commenced their journey at Suez, visiting places in the +Red Sea which voyagers by the P. and O. steamers pass by on the +other side. They made their way down the west coast by all the most +uncomfortable means of conveyance attainable, culminating in the +filanzana, in which instrument of torture they were carried across the +hills and through the swamps of Madagascar. Colonel COLVILE, just +now enjoying himself amid the privations of the journey up country to +Uganda, is well known as an indomitable traveller. In Mrs. COLVILE he +found a worthy companion. On a merry page of the narrative of life in +Madagascar, it is incidentally mentioned that the travellers arrive at +Malatsy with their luggage soaking after a dip in the river. They dine +in a whitewashed hut, with an army of big cockroaches overrunning the +walls. Resuming their journey next morning they "entered a dense cloud +of singularly malignant little black flies." The half-naked porters +were soon streaming with blood, and the passengers' faces were in a +similar condition. "Luckily," writes Mrs. COLVILE, in her cheery way, +"we were soon clear of the infested belt, to move in the course of +half-an-hour into a flight of locusts." Mrs. COLVILE takes as the +motto of her book the proverb, _Qui suit son chemin arrive a la fin_. +My Baronite arrived at the end of Mrs. COLVILE'S fascinating narrative +full of admiration for her courage and good temper. But as long as +Piccadilly and Pall Mall are not "up," he will be content with them, +and would rather not follow her road. + + BARON DE BOOK-WORMS & CO. + + * * * * * + +THE CABMAN'S GUIDE TO POLITENESS.--No. I. + + (_In short, easy Lessons, arranged after the fashion of the + Child's Handbook to Useful Knowledge._) + +[Illustration] + +_Question._ I suppose your chief desire is to make as much out of the +public as possible? + +_Answer._ I suppose it is. + +_Q._ And you will be as glad to attain your object by politeness as by +any other method? + +_A._ Well, of course it don't matter to me how I get the coin, so long +as I do get it. + +_Q._ Precisely. Well, have you ever tried to be polite? + +_A._ Never. Don't know exactly what the word represents. + +_Q._ So I thought. Well, I will attempt to teach you its meaning by +example. + +_A._ Thank you; so long as it helps me, and don't hurt you, what's the +odds? + +_Q._ Certainly; I see that you have some rudimentary knowledge of the +matter already. Well, to begin. Suppose a fare gave you less than what +you considered your right charge, how would you behave? + +_A._ If a policeman wasn't in the way, I should say "What's this?" and +glare at him indignantly. + +_Q._ Have you found this a successful method of obtaining an increase? + +_A._ Well, no, not much. Of course if you get an old lady, or a mother +with a heap of children, you can do almost anything with them. + +_Q._ But let us take a smart cavalry officer, who knows his way about +town, do you think the method you suggest would be successful with +him? + +_A._ No, I don't; but no cavalry officer who was really smart would +offer me less than my fare. + +_Q._ But we are assuming that there may be some question about the +fare. For instance, what would you consider the right charge from +Charing Cross railway-station to the St. James's Theatre? + +_A._ Why, eighteen pence, to be sure, and a cheap eighteen pence in +the bargain. + +_Q._ Your computation of the charge will suit my purpose. Of course, +you know that the police put the distance at something less than two +miles, I may say considerably less? + +_A._ I daresay they do, but the police are not everybody, and you said +I was not to consider the constables if they weren't on the spot. If +they were, of course that would make a difference. + +_Q._ Assume you get a shilling. Now suppose you were to look at the +coin, and to say, "I beg your pardon, Sir, but are you aware this +shilling is a George the Fourth, or a well-preserved William the +Fourth, or an early Victoria, would you not like to exchange it for +one of less historical interest?" Do you not think that such a speech, +with a civil touch of the hat, would immediately attract attention? + +_A._ It might, but I can't say for certain, as I have never tried it. + +_Q._ I did not suppose that you had. Do you not believe that were you +to make such a remark your kind consideration would receive attention? + +_A._ Quite as likely as not, but what then? + +_Q._ Well, having established yourself on a friendly footing, could +you not improve the occasion by adding, "I do not know whether you are +aware of the fact, Sir, but I frequently receive eighteen pence for +the very distance you have just travelled?" + +_A._ Of course I could, but what good would it be? + +_Q._ That you will probably find out if you act on my suggestion, and +now, as I have taught you enough for to-day, I will adopt a driver's +phrase and "pull up." Have you anything polite to say to me which will +prove to me that you have been bettered by my instruction? + +_A._ Nothing that I can think of, unless it be, "Thank you for +nothing." + +_Q._ That is scarcely the reply I had expected. However, do not be +disheartened, to thank me at all is a move in the right direction. And +now you will come again? + +_A._ Well, yes, when I have nothing better to do. + +_Q._ I am infinitely obliged to you. I will detain you no longer. +Good-bye, and I hope you will adopt my method and find it successful. + +_A._ I hope so, too. But there's no telling. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE EXPRESSED DIFFERENTLY. + +"DON'T GO, CANON; I WANT TO INTRODUCE YOU TO A LADY WHO WISHES TO MAKE +YOUR ACQUAINTANCE." + +"OH--ER--I'M RATHER IN A HURRY; SOME OTHER DAY, PERHAPS--ER--ER." + +"IT'S MY WIFE, YOU KNOW." + +"OH, THAT'S _DIFFERENT_. I THOUGHT YOU SAID A _LADY_! I SHALL BE +CHARMED!"] + + * * * * * + +THE BLACK SHADOW. + + We're near to the gloomy GUY FAUX anniversary, + Nigh to the gorging of Lord Mayor's Day, + But though 'tis November, there's joy in the Nursery + Ruled by Nurse GLADSTONE out Westminster way. + The summer's long troubles are laid on the shelf + And "Nana" looks quite like enjoying herself. + + That bothersome bantling, the big Irish baby, + Is tucked up in bed for a long forty winks. + (Though its shrill Banshee howl will be heard again, maybe, + From waking it, _yet_, even Nana G. shrinks.) + So now for a nice quiet time, if you please, + With the brace of most sweet-tempered bairns on her knees. + + They're English--quite English, and easy to handle, + Won't raise horrid noises and anger the House. + They're pleasant to see and delightful to dandle, + And Nana opines that, with nursery _nous_, + They'll be got "nicely off"--if she makes no mistakes-- + Before that Hibernian worry awakes. + + "To market, to market, to buy a fat piggy! + (But O, not a poor Irish pig--in a poke!)" + So pipes Nana GLADSTONE so jocund and jiggy + She ekes out her Nursery lilt with a joke. + "We've done, for a season, with row-de-dow-dow, + And there's no 'Bogey Man,' dears, to bother us now!" + + Nurses, we know, find the "Black Man" most handy + To frighten their charges to quiet at times; + But now 'tis all "Hush-a-bye, Babes!" "Handy-pandy!" + And such soothing carols and quieting rhymes, + No need for a "black ugly thing in the garden" + To quiet _these_ babes, thinks old Nana from Hawarden! + + Alas, and alas! Bogey Men are such rum 'uns, + And some Ugly Things are "too previous," or worse. + How oft the Black Shadow appears without summons, + And terrifies not the poor babes, but their Nurse! + Nana's not disturbed--yet--by the Irish babe's squall, + But--what means that black-boding shade on the wall? + + The African Bogey! Inopportune, very! + It's really a nuisance, it does seem a shame + That just as Nurse G. is prepared to make merry + With two such sweet bantlings _this_ Spook spoils the game! + Uganda! Mashonaland!! Nurse, I'm afraid + The Dark Continent casts o'er your babes a Black Shade! + + * * * * * + +THE THREE V'S. + +(_Voice, Vote, and Veto._) + + [What the brewers want is a Reform Bill by which "every adult + resident with a throat should have a vote."--_Westminster + Gazette._] + + "When wine is in the wit is out" + Was once held wisdom past all doubt; + But now 'twould seem that every throttle + That hath capacity for the bottle, + Must have it also for the suffrage. + No more need rowdy Rad or rough rage. + Throat-suffrage should please everybody + Who lets out noise or takes in toddy, + By way of a capacious throat + Can drink and shout--One Throat, one Vote! + + * * * * * + +FROM MR. CORMORANT, ST. JAMES'S PARK.--"Thank you, Sir. Mother and +child, Master CORMORANT and Mrs. CORMORANT, are doing uncommonly well. +Hope for the best. But permit me, accidents will happen, and I should +like to make provision--you understand. How? In my newspaper I see +advertised 'Eagle Insurance Co.,' 'Pelican Life Insurance Co.' Why are +the Eagle and the Pelican to be benefited, and not the Cormorant--and +others? But never mind the others. I speak for myself, and am yours +Devouringly, Captain CORMORANT." + + * * * * * + +SOMETHING IN A NAME.--Most appropriate official to make a "Budget +Statement"--Sir GEORGE "DIBBS." + + * * * * * + +A STRIKE MOTTO.--"'Tis true, 'tis pitty; and pitty 'tis, 'tis true." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE BLACK SHADOW. + +NURSE GLADSTONE. "NOW, MY LITTLE DEARS, WE SHALL HAVE A NICE QUIET +TIME--ALL TO OURSELVES!" + +"UGANDA! MASHONALAND!! NURSE, I'M AFRAID THE DARK CONTINENT CASTS O'ER +YOUR BABES A BLACK SHADE!"] + + * * * * * + +THE ADVENTURES OF PICKLOCK HOLES. + +(_By Cunnin Toil_.) + +No. VI.--THE UMBROSA BURGLARY. + +During one of my short summer holidays I happened to be spending a few +days at the delightful riverside residence of my friend JAMES +SILVER, the extent of whose hospitality is only to be measured by +the excellence of the fare that he sets before his guests, or by the +varied amusements that he provides for them. The beauties of Umbrosa +(for that is the attractive name of his house) are known to all those +who during the summer months pass up (or down) the winding reaches of +the Upper Thames. It was there that I witnessed a series of startling +events which threw the whole county into a temporary turmoil. Had it +not been for the unparalleled coolness and sagacity of PICKLOCK +HOLES the results might have been fraught with disaster to many +distinguished families, but the acumen of HOLES saved the situation +and the family-plate, and restored the peace of mind of one of the +best fellows in the world. + +The party at Umbrosa consisted of the various members of the SILVER +family, including, besides Mr. and Mrs. SILVER, three high-spirited +and unmarried youths and two charming girls. PICKLOCK HOLES was of +course one of the guests. In fact, it had long since come to be an +understood thing that wherever I went HOLES should accompany me in the +character of a professional detective on the lookout for business; +and JAMES SILVER though he may have at first resented the calm +unmuscularity of my marvellous friend's immovable face would have been +the last man in the world to spoil any chance of sport or excitement +by refraining from offering a cordial invitation to HOLES. The +party was completed by PETER BOWMAN, a lad of eighteen, who to +an extraordinary capacity for mischief, added an imperturbable +cheerfulness of manner. He was generally known as Shock-headed PETER, +in allusion to the brush-like appearance of his delicate auburn hair, +but his intimate friends sometimes addressed him as VENUS, a nickname +which he thoroughly deserved by the almost classic irregularity of his +Saxon features. + +[Illustration: "Propelled by an athletic young fellow."] + +We were all sitting, I remember, on the riverbank, watching the +countless craft go past, and enjoying that pleasant industrious +indolence which is one of the chief charms of life on the Thames. A +punt had just skimmed by, propelled by an athletic young fellow in +boating costume. Suddenly HOLES spoke. + +"It is strange," he said, "that the man should be still at large." + +"What man? Where? How?" we all exclaimed breathlessly. + +"The young puntsman," said HOLES, with an almost aggravating coolness. +"He is a bigamist, and has murdered his great aunt." + +"It cannot be," said Mr. SILVER, with evident distress. "I know the +lad well, and a better fellow never breathed." + +"I speak the truth," said HOLES, unemotionally. "The induction is +perfect. He is wearing a red tie. That tie was not always red. It +was, therefore, stained by something. Blood is red. It was, therefore, +stained by blood. Now it is well known that the blood of great aunts +is of a lighter shade, and the colour of that tie has a lighter shade. +The blood that stained it was, therefore, the blood of his great aunt. +As for the bigamy, you will have noticed that as he passed he blew +two rings of cigarette-smoke, and they both floated in the air _at the +same time_. A ring is a symbol of matrimony. Two rings together mean +bigamy. He is, therefore, a bigamist." + +For a moment we were silent, struck with horror at this dreadful, this +convincing revelation of criminal infamy. Then I broke out: + +"HOLES," I said, "you deserve the thanks of the whole community. You +will of course communicate with the police." + +"No," said HOLES, "they are fools, and I do not care to mix myself up +with them. Besides, I have other fish to fry." + +Saying this, he led me to a secluded part of the grounds, and +whispered in my ear. + +"Not a word of what I am about to tell you. There will be a burglary +here to-night." + +"But, HOLES," I said, startled in spite of myself at the calm +omniscience of my friend, "had we not better do something; arm the +servants, warn the police, bolt the doors and bar the windows, and +sit up with blunderbusses--anything would be better than this state of +dreadful expectancy. May I not tell Mr. SILVER?" + +"POTSON, you are amiable, but you will never learn my methods." And +with that enigmatic reply I had to be content in the meantime. + +The evening had passed as pleasantly as evenings at Umbrosa always +pass. There had been music; the Umbrosa choir, composed of members of +the family and guests, had performed in the drawing-room, and PETER +had drawn tears from the eyes of every one by his touching +rendering of the well-known songs of "_The Dutiful Son_" and "_The +Cartridge-bearer_." Shortly afterwards, the ladies retired to bed, +and the gentlemen, after the customary interval in the smoking-room, +followed. We were in high good-humour, and had made many plans for the +morrow. Only HOLES seemed pre-occupied. Once I heard him muttering +to himself, "It's bound to come off properly; never failed yet. They +wired to say they'd be here by the late train. Well, let them come. I +shall be ready for them." I did not venture at the time to ask him the +meaning of these mysterious words. + +I had been sleeping for about an hour, when I was suddenly awakened +with a start. In the passage outside I heard the voices of the +youngest SILVER boy and of PETER. + +"PETER, old chap," said JOHNNY SILVER, "I believe there's burglars in +the house. Isn't it a lark?" + +"Ripping," said PETER. "Have you told your people?" + +"Oh, it's no use waking the governor and the mater; we'll do the job +ourselves. I told the girls, and they've all locked themselves in and +got under their beds, so they're safe. Are you ready?" + +"Yes." + +"Come on then." + +With that they went along the passage and down the stairs. My mind was +made up, and my trousers and boots were on in less time than it takes +to tell it. I went to HOLES'S room and entered. He was lying on his +bed, fully awake, dressed in his best detective suit, with his fingers +meditatively extended, and touching one another. + +"They're here," I said. + +"Who?" + +"The burglars." + +"As I thought," said HOLES, selecting his best basket-hilted +life-preserver from a heap in the middle of the room. "Follow me +silently." + +I did so. No sooner had we reached the landing, however, than the +silence was broken by a series of blood-curdling screams. + +"Good Heavens!" was all I could say. + +"Hush," said HOLES. I obeyed him. The screams subsided, and I heard +the voices of my two young friends, evidently in great triumph. + +"Lie still, you brute," said PETER, "or I'll punch your blooming head. +Give the rope another twist, JOHNNY. That's it. Now you cut and tell +your governor and old HOLES that we've nabbed the beggar." + +By this time the household was thoroughly roused. Agitated females +and inquisitive males streamed downstairs. Lights were lit, and a +remarkable sight met our eyes. In the middle of the drawing-room lay +an undersized burglar, securely bound, with PETER sitting on his head. + +"JOHNNY and I collared the beggar," said PETER, "and bowled him over. +Thanks, I think I could do a ginger-beer." + +The man was of course tried and convicted, and HOLES, who had +explained how he had been certain that the burglary was contemplated +and had taken his measures accordingly, received the thanks of the +County Council. + +"That fellow," said the great detective to me, "was the best and +cleverest of my tame team of country-house burglars. Through him and +his associates I have fostered and foiled more thefts than I care to +count. Those infernal boys nearly spoilt everything. POTSON, take my +advice, never attempt a master-stroke in a house full of boys. They +can't understand scientific induction. Had they not interfered I +should have caught the fellow myself. He had wired to tell me where I +should find him." + + * * * * * + +PRECEPT AND PRACTICE.--It's not sufficiently recognised that a Bishop +is bound to side with the masters, as by the terms of his contract he +engages to be "no striker." + + * * * * * + +"HOW TO MAKE ENGLAND SOBER."--"It can't be done," says the Bishop of +CHESTER, "_sans Jayne_." + + * * * * * + +A STRIKING HEADLINE (_all rights reserved_).--Loch Out in +Matabeleland! + + * * * * * + +A JINGO PARADOX.--We pot the natives to preserve ourselves. + + * * * * * + +A MISTY CRYSTAL. + + DARLINGS, I am growing old, + Silver threads among the gold. + Cannot see beyond my nose, + Must have glasses I suppose. + At the fair I bought a pair, + Golden rimmed, of pebbles rare, + Paid the money then and there, + Glad my spectacles to wear. + But, how strange! I could not see + What was just in front of me! + Took them off and rubbed them well; + Cleaned they seemed; but, strange to tell, + When I put them on again + Everything was plain as plain, + But reflected from behind! + Then I found that tho' so blind, + Many little things I saw + Which I had not seen before. + First, my page, of doubtful age, + Put me in a dreadful rage; + Dipped his fingers in the cream; + (Turned and faced him--made him scream!) + Dropped the pot, upset a lot-- + Caught it from me pretty hot. + Next the footman kicked my cat + Sleeping on its lamb's-wool mat. + Loosed my dicky from its cage + (Shall deduct this from his wage). + When the housemaid scrubbed the floor, + Watched her through the open door + At my eldest making eyes. + Packed her off to her surprise, + Heeding not her tears and cries. + Truly blindness makes one wise! + Then I caught my little son + Putting mustard in a bun; + Going to give it to the pug. + Seized him by the nearest lug, + Boxed it hard. He howled with pain; + Never teased the dog again. + Saw my girl of twenty-three + Kiss the curate, after tea. + Sent the pair to right about. + (Wondered how I found them out!) + So, you see, I really find + Much amusement of a kind. + Eyes before and eyes behind, + Is there anyone would mind + Being just a little blind? + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: TRUE COMPUNCTION. + +_Young Hopeful_ (_who has been celebrating, not wisely but too well, +the last day of his Exam._). "LOOK HERE, MAJOR! IF _YOU_ DON'T TELL MY +FATHER OF MY D'SGRASHEFUL CONDUCK, _I_ SHALL!"] + + * * * * * + +N.B. ! + + [In the "Report of the Royal Commission on Labour" it is said + that "domestic economy is not now practised among the Scotch + peasants with such closeness as formerly; wives have ceased + to use oatmeal and other simple fare, and buy from the passing + cart inferior goods which they could very well prepare at + home." The married labourer's clothing is "finer, but less + durable," and he himself is "less unknown in places of + amusement."] + + SCOTS, wha hae on parritch fed! + Scots, in thrifty habits bred! + Air ye leavin' barley bread, + And frugality? + + Now's the day, much more the night, + For stickin' to your bawbees tight! + See approach proud Fashion's might, + Chains o' luxury! + + Wha will to the flesher's wend, + Buy thin breeks that will na mend, + Wha sae base as saxpence spend + On an evenin' spree? + + Wha for Scotland's knitted hose, + Oaten cakes and homespun clo'es, + Now will deal some auld-warld blows? + He will live, _not_ dee! + + By each braw and kilted laddie, + Gudeman douce, and gude-boy caddie, + Ye may weel at once eradi- + -cate frivolity! + + Strike, and break amusement's yoke, + Or your ainsells may be broke! + Siller's saved in every stroke + Of economy! + + * * * * * + +FIRST-RATE FOREIGN ADVERTISEMENT FOR A MEDICAL FRIEND OF OURS.--Every +dinner in France is now served "_a la Roose_." + + * * * * * + +A WALK IN DEVON. + +PART II.--THE FINISH. + +_Notes from the Travel Diary of Toby, M.P._ + + _The Cottage, Burrow-in-the-Corner, Devon._ + +VERY awkward to have missed the Post; being Saturday night means delay +of twenty-four hours. + +"Seen the postman?" I asked Old Gentleman. + +"Seed ee two minits ago. Gone up the hill. I'll call him back." + +New idea this. Never remember when just too late for last pillar-box +clearance in London suburb running after postman, bringing him back, +and getting him to make special clearance. Old Gentleman evidently +thought nothing of it; skipped out of garden with remarkable agility; +in middle of road in a twinkling; shouting "Hi! hi!" and waving green +umbrella wildly over his narrow-brimmed top hat, round which the rime +of age modestly lurked. Postman did not seem at all annoyed; came back +promptly, unlocked box, and trudged off again on his rounds. + +Here's where my misfortune began. Way back clear by the road I had +come; inviting lane passed Old Gentleman's house; was there anyway +along it to Burrow-in-the-Corner? "Why, yes," said Old Gentleman, +whose desire to accommodate was illimitable. "Follow this lane till +you come to four cross roads, then turn to left, and keep on." Nothing +plainer than this: getting used to four cross roads in these parts; +came upon this particular assortment after quarter of an hour's walk; +a sign-post too; so thoughtful; no difficulty about four cross roads +when there's a sign-post. Walked up to it and round it; not a single +letter remaining intact of the direction. Sign-post older than +Old Gentleman with the umbrella, and not nearly in such state of +preservation. Not a soul in sight; "no footfall breaking silence of +closing day." Old Gentleman said turn to left; so left must be right; +take it, and walk on. + +Pretty broad highway; must be main road leading somewhere. Why not to +Burrow-in-the-Corner? Quarter mile off come upon bifurcation. Which is +main road? Instincts of trapper assert themselves; carefully examine +which way traffic mostly goes; not many cart-ruts, but majority turn +to left; that must be the way to Burrow-in-the-Corner. Take it; find +it a ditch between lofty hedges going up a hill, and then, like the +late Duke of York, going down again. Half a mile of this; then another +bifurcation; a gentle curve, insidious, but unmistakable, one horn of +my dilemma leading to right, the other to left. Take the right this +time, by way of change; leads into a road running at right angles. +Should I turn right or left? Do a little of both in succession; can +see nothing of the lay of country, by reason of wall-like hedges; +presently come to gate in field; country chillingly unfamiliar. + +Situation beginning to grow serious; dusk closing in apace. In spite +of it I see my mistake; took the wrong turning when I examined the +traffic-mark; must turn back there, and peg along the other road; +get into narrow lane again; this time, varying man[oe]uvre of Duke of +York, go down a hill, and then go up again. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: LIKA JOKO'S JOTTINGS.--No. 3. STAG HUNTING.] + + * * * * * + +Trapper instinct, before alluded to, made me note heap of broken +stones at this particular bifurcation. Here it is; no mistake about +that; take other turning, and press on full speed; can't be more +than two miles now; straight road, and there you are. Can do it under +half-an-hour. Nothing so delightful as walk in country lane in cool of +evening. This particular lane rather long; roads and lanes cutting +off to right and left; at least no bifurcation. Not a house in sight; +every soul in the country apparently turned in. Cottar's Saturday +night, of course; should have thought of that before; explains +everything. + +Apparently no end to this road; suddenly seems to disappear; only a +dip down a hill; think at first, from steepness, it must be road into +Tipperton; but Tipperton is miles away. Getting on for dinner-time; +better run down hill; do so; see light flickering at end; probably +The Cottage windows; hum "A light in the window for me"; find I've no +breath to spare for musical entertainments; shut up, and run. Light +comes from farm-house; enter yard cautiously in case of another dog +being there. In the twilight see second Old Gentleman; this time in +his shirt-sleeves, sitting meditatively on an upturned bucket set on a +barn floor. "Is this the way to Burrow-in-the-Corner?" I ask, a little +out of breath. Old Gentleman stares; perhaps he is deaf; looks deaf, +but find he is only chuckling; repeat question louder. "No," says he, +"but that be;" and he waves a horny hand up the wall of a hill down +which I had scrambled. + +For the last twenty minutes I'd been running away from +Burrow-in-the-Corner as if we didn't dine at 7.30. + +Old Gentleman not accustomed to seeing joke; made most of this; when +he recovered I learned that if I walked back up hill a mile, and +took first turning to right, I should be on the road to +Burrow-in-the-Corner. Nice pull up hill; kept keen look out for +turn to right; after quarter of hour's rapid walking passed on left +openings of two lanes in close contiguity. Through one I had forty +minutes earlier walked on to this very road. If I had then turned to +left instead of going back I should have been at The Cottage by this +time--supposing, of course, the road leads thither. + +No use repining; must get on; feeling peckish; walk in middle of road +to make most of twilight shut out by hedges; can't see time by watch; +doing something more than four miles an hour. At end of what seems +half-hour am apparently no forrader; no house; no passer-by; no +friendly light over ghostly expanse peeped at through occasional +gates. + +Begin to think of story heard the other day. Belated parson went to +take evening service for friend at church close by post-office where +I made acquaintance of first Old Gentleman. Only three miles from his +own house; after sermon set off to walk home; thinking of many things, +turned off at wrong point; knew country pretty well, but darkness +came on; hopelessly lost; found forlornly sitting on a gate at eleven +o'clock by farmer's son fortuitously delayed on his return home; took +stranger home with him; woke up family, and gave him shakedown for +night. + +"It was bad enough, TOBY," rev. gentleman said, "and might have been +worse. But what rankles most bitterly in my breast at present day is +remark of farmer's wife when her son shouted up at open window that +he had brought home a clergyman who had lost his way and wanted a +bed. 'Clergyman!' she cried, with cruel scorn. 'Get away with you. No +clergyman would be out at this time of night.'" + +One comfort it's not raining; rained in torrents when my friend the +parson had his Sunday night out. Road evidently not leading towards +The Cottage; suppose that once more I am walking away from it! Trapper +instincts already alluded to have evolved a plan which I hold in +reserve. Remember (or think I remember) the turns on the way back to +post-office where I made acquaintance of first Old Gentleman; terrible +trudge, but better than sleeping in ditch or shed; shall turn back and +face it. Halt and hesitate; no sign of Cottage or other light; hedges +are black shadows; a few feet in front and an equal distance behind is +wall of darkness; decide to take a hundred paces forward. If then no +sign of habitation shall turn back and grope way by post-office. + +At eightieth pace a turn in the road; a light across the roadway; then +The Cottage, and through the open window, into the dark still night, +floats the music of SCHUMANN'S "_Fruehlingsnacht_." It is the Cook +singing, while the Housemaid spreads the cloth for dinner. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: WIREPROOF. SIR HARRY HARDMAN, MOUNTED ON "BEHEMOTH," +CREATED RATHER A STIR AT THE MEET. HE SAID HE DIDN'T CARE A HANG FOR +THE BARBED OR ANY OTHER KIND OF WIRE.] + + * * * * * + +NO RAISON D'ETRE! + + ["The custom of dancing, I am informed on good authority, + has of late years lost its popularity with our gilded + youth!"--_Mr. James Payn._] + + A SINGING-BIRD which will not sing, a watch that will not go, + A working-man who scorns to work, a needle that won't sew, + Are things whose inutility are obvious at a glance, + But what _are_ they compared with "gilded youth" who do not dance? + + * * * * * + +MYSTIFIED.--Somebody at Mrs. R.'s was saying that a certain friend of +theirs, a well-known Queen's Counsel, was a first-rate pianist. "By +the way," inquired a young barrister, "doesn't he usually practice in +Mr. Justice ROMER'S court?" Mrs. R. held up her hands in amazement. +"Well," she exclaimed; "I had no idea that music was allowed in a +law court. But I suppose it's in the interval, while the Judge is at +luncheon." + + * * * * * + +An Expostulation. + +(_On the recent revision of "The Tempter."_) + + MR. TREE, what _have_ you done? + Hang it all! there's no exempting + You from blame for risks we run + With _The Tempter_ yet more tempting. + + * * * * * + +QUERY.--Has the want of rain this summer, and consequent failure of +the hay crops, affected the market for Grass Widows? + + * * * * * + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, +November 4th 1893, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** + +***** This file should be named 39381.txt or 39381.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/3/8/39381/ + +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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