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diff --git a/42530-0.txt b/42530-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d2e3efd --- /dev/null +++ b/42530-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1319 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42530 *** + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 108. JUNE 15, 1895. + +_edited by Sir Francis Burnand_ + + + + +ROUNDABOUT READINGS. + +[Illustration] + +There is, of course, to be an Eisteddfod in 1896; and it appears that +the Llandudno Executive Committee have been making some revolutionary +proposals with reference to it. They have resolved that they +"respectfully desire that the Gorsedd will see its way to concur in +the subject for the chair being in any metre, and not restricted to an +awdl. The Committee are aware that the awdl has antiquity and custom +in its favour, but, while calculated to develop skill in metrical +composition, the local Committee feel that the necessity of +composing in the form of an awdl is fettering to the conception and +imagination." I cannot say what an awdl is, but I am dead against +fetters, and, therefore, I say, down with the dastardly, fettering +awdl. + + * * * * * + + Swift, strike off the fetters, wherever they're found, + Let the song-loving Welshman go free and unbound. + To the awdl too long has he bended his knee, + But its fate has been sealed, and the Welshman is free; + As free as his ocean, as free as his breezes, + He shall write as he likes, in what metre he pleases; + And he faces his Gorsedd, and vows he won't dawdle + A manacled slave in the train of the awdl. + + * * * * * + +After this it seems somewhat bald and prosaic to read that + + On the recommendation of "Hwfa Mon" (the Archdruid), + "Eifionydd" (the registrar), "Cadvan," "Pedrog," "Gwynedd," + and "Dyfed," of the Gorsedd Committee, who stated that the + subject chosen for the arwrgerdd (heroic poem), for which a + prize of £20 and a silver crown is offered, was unsuitable for + an arwrgerdd, the subject was changed, "Llewelyn Fawr" being + substituted for "St. Tudno."--Instead of the galar-gan, the + subject of which was "Clwydfardd," for which £15 was the + prize, it was decided to offer a prize of £15 and a gold medal + for the best awdl on "Clwydfardd," the Gorsedd stating that an + awdl would be much more appropriate, as the late Archdruid was + a great admirer of the twenty-four metres. Instead of the hir + a thoddaid "Cestyll Cymru" (Castles of Wales) it was decided + to offer a prize of £2 2_s._ for the best hir a thoddaid + "Beddargraph 'Elis Wyn o Wyrfai,'" and also £2 2_s._ for the + best hir a thoddaid "Beddargraph 'Tudno.'" + + * * * * * + +The Bishop of HEREFORD has requested the parishes in his diocese to +send up petitions respecting the Armenian atrocities. One of these +parishes is Walford-on-Wye, and I propose to confer immortality upon +the reply sent by its Vicar to the Bishop. + + "I regret" (says this truly Christian cleric) "having been + unable to respond in the way you desired to your appeal + respecting the persecution of Christians in Armenia. My not + doing so was owing to the circumstance that at the present + time a remonstrance from our nation can have no moral + weight whatever. We have now in office a Government which is + exercising all its ingenuity in plans for the persecution and + plunder of Christians here, and so long as we tolerate the + continuance of such a Government in office the Turk would + be justified in telling us to reform this scandal before we + presume to remonstrate with him." + + * * * * * + +In other words, the Vicar of Walford-on-Wye disapproves of the Welsh +Church Disestablishment Bill, and refuses on that account to join in +a protest against the torture and murder of his Armenian +fellow-creatures. The logic of the Vicar is as convincing as his +Christian sympathy is admirable. Let him be known henceforth as the +Vicar of Reason Wye. + + * * * * * + +What on earth is a "Rational Sick and Burial Association?" They +possess one at Acton Turville; and, only the other day, it held great +junketings. I may possibly have been rationally sick, but I have +certainly never yet been rationally, or even irrationally, buried, +nor, I take it, have the very vigorous members of the Association. +However, they had a procession, which started from the club-room, +headed by the Malmesbury band, and then walked to Badminton, +calling at the Duke of BEAUFORT'S, where they were all treated with +refreshments. Imagine his sporting Grace's feelings at being called +upon to treat with refreshments a procession of the rationally sick +and buried. They then dined. The _menu_ is not given, but no doubt +included bread made from mummy-wheat, Dead-sea fruit, and copious +libations of bier (spelling again!). + + * * * * * + +Close to Bristol, too, there is a place rejoicing in the name of +Fishponds, where, at the Full Moon Hotel, the Loyal Pride of Fishponds +Lodge of the Bristol Equalised District of the Order of Druids meets +for its various celebrations. The members sometimes "perambulate the +village, headed by the band of the Mangotsfield detachment of the +Bristol Rifles." + + * * * * * + + Now strike the clashing cymbals, and sound the big bassoon, + The Loyal Pride of Fishponds Lodge has left the old "Full Moon," + Yet, though their band be warlike, they mean nor war nor pillage, + 'Tis charity that bids them thus perambulate the village. + No member of the Order would dare to come too late + When Fishponds calls her Druids out to celebrate a _fête_. + Then, while with martial music, the left foot on the beat, + The Lodge awakes the echoes loud in every village street, + The villagers of Fishponds forsake their early bed, + And each one at his window displays a nightcapped head, + Salutes the hoary Druids, nor fails to greet with cheers, + The Mangotsfield detachment of Bristol Volunteers. + + * * * * * + +A Correspondent writes to the _Scotsman_, protesting against the +omission of the grey plover from the list of birds to be protected +under the Wild Birds Protection Act. "That the eggs," he adds, "are +gathered by keepers and others for sale, should certainly be no +argument; and any keeper might well be ashamed to watch a poor +harmless bird all day through binoculars for the purpose of making a +few shillings by the sale of its eggs." We live and learn. I have been +eating plover's eggs for years without the least suspicion that +the poor harmless mother-bird had been shamefully watched through +binoculars by a keeper in search of shillings. All the same. I +heartily indorse the suggestion that the plover should be protected. + + * * * * * + +SIR DONALD CURRIE must have the eye of an eagle. Speaking at a +luncheon held in Newcastle the other day in connection with the +Trinity Presbyterian Church, he declared that "nothing had ever +charmed him more than to observe at the luncheon that day the +marvellous ability, but much more the marvellous unanimity and +Christian fellowship manifested by the Nonconformist bodies." I doff +my cap to the man who can infer not only marvellous unanimity and +Christian fellowship, but also marvellous ability from his observation +of bodies at luncheon. After this it must be the merest child's-play +to navigate the _Tantallon Castle_ to the Baltic Canal. + + * * * * * + +At a recent meeting of the Blackrock Town Commissioners, so I gather +from the _Freeman's Journal_, Dr. KOUGH, the Vice-Chairman, objected +to the adoption of a petition in favour of the Intoxicating Liquors +(Ireland) Bill. He said the petition had been carried by a side-wind. +Obviously, in the Doctor's opinion, the only thing to be done was to +Kough-drop it. + + * * * * * + +THE ASCENT OF MAN. + + ["Professor DRUMMOND'S 'Ascent of Man' was discussed in + the Assembly of the Free Church and very severely + handled."--_Daily Telegraph._] + + What? Sprung frae an ape wi' a danglin' bit tailie? + Evolved by a process o' naiteral law? + What? Me, Sir? An Elder i' Kirk an' a Bailie? + That boast o' the bluid o' the Yellow Macaw? + + Ye'd gar be takin' me graunfeyther's Bible + An' write doun "Gorilla" the sire o' us a'? + Na, na! 'Tisna me that's the traitor tae libel + The family tree o' the Yellow Macaw. + + We gang straught awa' through the son o' ta PHAIRSHONS + Tae NOAH an' ADAM, and back to the Fa', + An' nane but respectable kirk-gangin' pairsons + Hae place i' the tree o' the Yellow Macaw. + + Baboons?--Leave the Sassenach, o'er his Manilla, + Tae boast as he will o' his Puggie[*]-Papa! + But strike me teetotal if e'er a gorilla + Shall sit i' the tree o' the Yellow Macaw! + + [Footnote *: _Anglice_, Monkey.] + + * * * * * + +LIGHT AND HEAT; OR, IN A CONCATENATION ACCORDINGLY.--Speaking of +"the invisible parts of the solar spectrum," Dr. HUGGINS tells us the +"ultra-red" has been traced to a distance nearly "ten times as long +as the whole range of the visible or light-giving region of the +spectrum." Nature, indeed, is "all of a piece." In politics, as in +optics, the "Ultra-Red" lies beyond the "light-giving region," though, +as Science says of its "gamut of invisible rays," they are perceived +"by their heating effects." The S. D. F.'s and other wavers of the Red +Flag, should study up-to-date optics. + + * * * * * + +"SIC ITUR AD ASTRA."--The Balloon Society has presented "W. G." with +its gold medal. Therefore has he pardonable cause for inflation. It +is to be hoped that this will not have the effect of making him hit +"skyers." In spite of the aëronaut medal, may we never see "e'er a +naught" tacked on to W. G.'s name. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "BOUND FOR THE BALTIC SEA!" + +[Mr. GLADSTONE starts for a trip to the Baltic in the Donald Currie +Ship _Tantallon Castle_, Wednesday, June 12.]] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: WHAT A CHARMING SURPRISE IT IS, TO A MAN WHO HAS LOOKED +TO HIS BICYCLE FOR TWO HOURS' PEACE AND LIBERTY A DAY, TO COME DOWN ON +HIS BIRTHDAY AND FIND THAT HIS WIFE AND HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW HAVE +TAKEN LESSONS IN SECRET, AND WILL HENCEFORTH GO WITH HIM ALWAYS AND +EVERYWHERE!] + + * * * * * + +SUN AND SONG. + +_Saturday._--Have just been reading in _Temple Bar_ an article on the +influence of sunshine on SHELLEY, BYRON, KEATS, MOORE, SOUTHEY, and +other poets. Never thought of that before. There is so little sunshine +in London, and when there is one never sits out in it. That is why +all the magazines reject my sonnets, and why no one will publish my +tragedy in blank verse. Sunshine! Right on the top of one's bare head. +That is the cure. The reason is obvious--Ph[oe]bus Apollo, the Divine +Afflatus, and all that sort of thing. Must go somewhere into the +sunshine at once. Brighton is near, Brighton is shadeless, Brighton +under the June sunshine is hot. The very place. Shall now at last +electrify the world. Go down by an evening train. Somewhat crowded. +Whitsuntide, of course. + +_Sunday._--Glorious morning. Blaze of sunshine. Brighton is not an +inspiring place for a poet. Walk along asphalted parade. Extremely +hot. But that is just what I want. Still SHELLEY and the others did +not advocate softened asphalte, to which one's boots almost stick. +The beach is the right place. Lie down on the dusty shingle above +high water mark, take off my hat, and abandon myself to the Divine +Afflatus. Wait patiently for inspiration. Can only think how hot it +is. Wonder if the Divine Afflatus could get through my hat. Put on +my hat. Still no inspiration. Take my hat off again. Begin to become +insensible in the warmth. Suddenly feel on the back of my head a +sensation as of something striking me. Can it be the inspiration? No, +it was a pebble. Jump up. Boys behind, aimlessly throwing stones, have +hit me. Sudden inspiration to rush after them with uplifted stick. +Sudden flight of boys. Pursue them over uneven shingle. Wonder if +SHELLEY and the others ever did that. At last stop, breathless, hotter +than ever. Find, with difficulty, another unoccupied space on beach, +and lie down again. Become quite drowsy. Suddenly wake up. Must have +been asleep for a long time. Sun going down. No inspiration yet, and +no chance of Divine Afflatus to-day. Must wait till to-morrow. Head +aching very much. Wonder if SHELLEY and the others had headaches when +the D. A. was coming on. Consult _Temple Bar_. Apparently not. Very +strange. + +_Monday._--Again blazing sunshine. Hotter than ever. This must bring +on the D. A. if anything would. Again lie on beach. More crowded than +yesterday. Some of the people seem friendly, and to be interested in +my experiment, for they address me and advise me to get my hair cut. +Could this possibly be advantageous to admit the D. A.? No. SHELLEY +and the others wore their hair like mine, not cropped like a +convict's. Tell this to my new friends. They laugh. I become angry. +Then they tell me to keep my hair on. Curious instance of the +vacillation of popular opinion. They go away singing. Pain in my head +and sleepiness still worse. Can no longer keep awake. Abandon myself +to D. A. Am suddenly aroused by someone shaking my arm. Open my eyes. +Can hardly see anything. Awful pain in head. Shut my eyes again. My +arm again shaken roughly. A voice says, "Now then, get up." Endeavour +to lift my head but cannot. Never felt so ill before. Murmur feebly, +"I can't. It's the D. A. coming on." Voice answers, "D. T. yer mean. +None o' your gammon. You come along o' me." Begin now to understand +that it is not Ph[oe]bus Apollo who is standing by me in a vision. +It is not even a beautiful woman, as in SHELLEY'S _Alastor_. It is +a policeman. Must find precedent for this. Somehow my voice seems +changed and uncertain, but I manage to murmur, "_Temple Bar_." "Oh +yes," says the policeman, "you've been enough in the bar. Now yer can +try the dock. Come along." He endeavours to raise me, but I again fall +insensible. + +_Wednesday._--Remember dimly the horrible events of the last +thirty-six hours. I was taken to the police-station, and brought +before the magistrate. He would not even look at _Temple Bar_, and +fined me for being drunk and incapable. I drunk and incapable! Oh +heavens! To-day I am back in London. The sky is cloudy. No chance of +the D. A. now. Shall give up poetry for ever, and for the future write +words for songs. + + * * * * * + +AT A YEOMANRY REVIEW. + +SCENE--_An open space near Baymouth, the watering-place at which the +County Yeomanry have been going through their annual training. Along +one side of the ground is a row of drags and other carriages, +occupied by the local magnates; along another, the less distinguished +spectators stand in a thin line or occasional groups, waiting for the +review to begin. In the centre, the inspecting officer is judging the +best turned-out troop, while the remainder of the regiment are doing +nothing in particular._ + +_Yeomanry Non-Com._ (_who is leading an officer's horse and talking to +a female friend of his and her brother with the sense of conferring a +distinction upon them_). Ah, 'tis not all play this yere trainin', +I do assure ye. I've been so 'ard-worked all the week, with all the +writin' I've had to do at the orderly room and thet, I've 'ardly 'ad +time to _live!_ But I like it, mind ye, I like it more every year I +come out and so does my old 'errse, a' b'lieve. And there's this about +it too--the girls don't come errfter a feller! + +_The Young Lady._ Well, I'm sure! Now _I_ should have thought when +you're in the Yeomanry, it was just what---- + +_The Y. N.-C._ Tain't so--not in my case--that's all I can tell ye. + +_The Y. L._ (_with coquettish incredulity_). Oh, I daresay. With that +uniform, too! Why, I expect, if the truth was told, you know more than +one young lady who's glad enough to be seen about with you. + +_The Y. N.-C._ (_complacently_). More than one! Why, theer wurr eight +I took out in a boat for a moonlight row on'y lawst night--nawn o' +_my_ seekin', but they wouldn't take no denial. _I_ didn't want to +be bothered with 'en. I've got other things to do besides squirin' a +passel o' wimmin folk about, I hev. + +_The Y. L._ You conceited thing, you! If that's the way you go on, I +shan't talk to you any more! + +_The Y. N.-C._ Well, you won't hev th' opportunity, for theer's the +Captain calling me up. So long--and take care o' yerselves! + + [_He trots off, feeling that he has sufficiently impressed + them_. + +_The Y. L._ (_to her brother, with the superiority that comes of a +finishing school with all the extras_). Distinctly "country," isn't +he? + +_Her Brother._ Well, he can't help _that_. And he rides as straight as +any chap I know. + +_The Y. L._ Oh, he's a real good fellow, I know that; still he _is_ +just a little ---- I did hope I'd polished him up a little while we +were at the farm last summer; but there, I suppose you _can't_ put +refinement into some people! + +_Another Young Lady_ (_to her_ Admirer). I can't make GEORGE out yet +among them all--can _you?_ + +_Her Admirer_ (_and_ GEORGE'S _rival_). Cawn't say as I've tried, +partickler. But there's one there in the rear rank that hes a look of +him; that one settin' all humped up nohow on his 'errse. + +_The Adored One._ Oh, of course, if you're going to make out as GEORGE +can't sit on a horse! + +_Her Admirer_ (_sulkily_). Well, I'd back myself to ride 'cross +country agen GARGE any day. + +_The Adored One._ Then why don't _you_ join the Yeomanry, like _he_ +has? + +_Her Admirer_ (_who would if he could afford it_). Why? 'Cause 'taint +worth my while, if you want to know! + +_The Adored One._ I'm sure it's a smart enough uniform--at least +GEORGE looks quite 'andsome in it. + +_Her Admirer._ He didn't look very 'andsome when I see him on parade +this marnin'; the sun had peeled his nose a treat! + +_The Adored One._ It's well there are _some_ who are willing to make +sacrifices for their country! + +AMONG THE CARRIAGES. + +_Mrs. Prattleton._ Yes, so _sad_ for him, poor dear; but of course +whenever his father dies, he'll be _quite_ comfortable. (_Recognising +a military acquaintance._) Oh, Captain CLINKER, do come and tell me +what they're supposed to be doing out there, and whether they've begun +yet. + +_Capt. Clinker_ (_R.A._). Nothin' much goin' on at present. Ah, they +seem to be wakin' up now a bit. (_As the band strikes up._) There's +the general salute; now they're goin' to make a start. + +_Mrs. Pratt._ Who is that little man in the baggy black frock, rather +like a dressing-gown, and the cocked hat; and why is he galloping out +here? + +_Capt. C._ He's the inspectin' officer; takin' up his position for the +march past, don't you know. + +_Mrs. Pratt_. Oh; and they're all going to march past _him_. How nice! +But there's _another_ officer in a cocked hat; is _he_ inspecting, +too? + +_Capt. C._ Only their tongues; he's the regimental Pill--the _doctor_, +you know. + +_Mrs. Pratt._ (_disenchanted_). I quite thought he must be a general +at _least_. Dear me, there's one man in a red coat and a helmet. What +is _he_ doing here? + +_Capt. C._ That's the adjutant. + +_Mrs. Pratt_. Oh; and the adjutant always wears a helmet. I _see_. +They've hung red silk round the kettledrums; (_pleased_) that's _real_ +soldiering, isn't it? + +_Officers_ (_as the regiment marches past by squadrons_). Right +whe-eel! Eyes right! For-ward! Dress up to your leaders there! + +_Capt. C._ (_with languid approbation_). The dressin's not half bad. + +_Mrs. Pratt._ No, they're dressed very like Hussars--or is it +Artillery I mean? I always had an idea the Yeomanry wore _comic_ +uniforms--with shirt-collars, you know, and old-fashioned milk-pail +hats with feathers and things. But (_disappointedly_) there's nothing +ridiculous about these. What a frisky animal that trumpeter is riding; +look at him caracoling about! + +_Capt. C._ Trumpeters and serjeant-majors always the best mounted. + +_Mrs. Pratt._ Are they? I wonder why _that_ is. (_As the regiment +ranks by in single file._) But they've _all_ got beautiful horses. + +_Capt. C._ (_critically_). H'm, they're a fair-lookin' lot. Fall off a +bit behind, some of 'em. + +_Mrs. Pratt._ Do they? Then they can't be very good riders, _can_ +they? + +_Capt. C._ These fellows? They ought to be; most of 'em, you see, hunt +their horses regularly. + +_Mrs. Pratt._ (_with a mental vision of dismounted troopers chasing +their chargers about the ground_). What fun! I should like to see them +do that. (_As the regiment trots past in sections._) But they don't +seem to come off over the trotting. + +[Illustration: "'Twas onfortunate fur Garge, him bein' th' only man as +fell arf."] + +_Capt. C._ Not quite; the leaders don't keep their distance, so the +men can't keep up. Still, considering how short a time they've been +out, you can't expect---- + +_Mrs. Pratt._ No; and they haven't tried to _gallop_ yet, have they? +Some of the horses are cantering now, though; it looks so much nicer +than if they all trotted, _I_ think. + +_Capt. C._ Don't fancy their Colonel would agree with you there. + +_Mrs. Pratt._ What a shame to keep those poor soldiers out there all +by themselves; they don't have any fun, and they only get in the way +of the others when they turn round. Oh, look at them now--they're all +coming straight at us, and waving their swords! + +_Capt. C._ Pursuin' practice at the gallop; doin' it rather decently, +too. + +_Mrs. Pratt._ But _do_ you think we're safe just here? Suppose they +can't stop themselves in time! + +_Capt. C._ No danger of that; too heavily bitted to get out of +hand.... There, you see, they're all wheelin' round. That'll be the +wind up. Yes, they're drawn up in line; officers called to the front. +Now the inspecting officer is makin' a few remarks, butterin' 'em up +all round, you know. It's all over. + +_Mrs. Pratt._ Really? It's been a great success, hasn't it? I enjoy +a review so much better when they don't have any horrid firing. Don't +you? + + [Captain CLINKER _assents, to save trouble_. + + * * * * * + +ON THE WAY HOME. + +_George's Rival_ (_reflectively_). 'Twas onfortnate fur GARGE, him +bein' th' only man as fell arf, so 'twas. + +_The Adored One._ He didn't fall off--he only fell _out_. Didn't you +hear him tellin' me the buckle of his stirrup broke? + +_George's Rival._ Buckle or nawn, he come arf; that's all I'm sayin'. +An' showed his sense, too, by keepin' out o' th' rest on it. But GARGE +was allays a keerful sart o' chap. + + * * * * * + +SCRAPS FROM CHAPS. + + ["At the Ludlow County Police Court, on May 27, Sir CHARLES + ROUSE BOUGHTON, Baronet, of Downton Hall, a Justice of + the Peace, applied for a protection order against Mr. JOHN + BADDELEY WOOD, of Henley Hall, a Justice of the Peace. + The parties had a dispute over a waterway, and on leaving + Middleton Church on Sunday, Mr. WOOD, it was alleged, used + coarse language to Sir CHARLES, and called him a liar three + times. Sir CHARLES said he was in bodily fear of Mr. WOOD, + and thought if sureties to keep the peace were applied for + he should be safer. The Bench granted the summons."--_The + Sheffield and Rotherham Independent._] + + Sure, WOOD and BOUGHTON might full well + By closest ties be knit; + But water's caused them both to swell, + And brought about a split. + And now within their bosoms housed + Blind anger courses madly, + Sir CHARLES'S temper has been Roused, + And WOOD has lost his, Baddeley. + + * * * * * + +MR. T. DOLLING BOLTON, M.P. for N.E. division of Derbyshire, has been +explaining to his constituents at Eckington the reason for his voting +against the Government on Mr. LLOYD-GEORGE'S amendment to the Welsh +Church Bill. He was under no obligation to party leaders or party as a +party. There was no subsidy by the party, no assistance given by party +speakers, and he had to rely upon the electors alone. These elementary +political principles endorsed by unanimous vote of continued +confidence in esteemed member. Vote moved in eloquent speech by Mr. +BODEN. No party assistance, no party voting, manly independence the +thing for BODEN. Leaders say it ought to be a thing "verboten," and +Mr. T. E. ELLIS filled with foreboding by latest revolt. BOLTON voting +blue bad enough, but the enthusiastic approval of his constituency +quite a bolt from the blue. + + * * * * * + +TO A LADY-JOURNALIST. + +(_Written by Request._) + +[Illustration: Coming for an Interview.] + + Great heav'ns! Here, where's my paper, pen, and ink! + How _is_ it all this while I have omitted you? + For _her_ I've rhymed, and Her, and HER; don't think, + I beg then, that I'll from my duty shrink, + A duty to a lady smart and witty due. + + I'm really sorry for this painful lapse + Of etiquette--_'twas_ careless, now you mention it. + I thought--let's see, what _did_ I think?--perhaps + You'd hardly time to read poetic scraps; + Your leisure's precious, and I dared not trench on it! + + Then ladies of the Press bar compliments + (At least _I_ seldom find they will permit any!), + So I'm impelled to write plain common sense, + As near as may be, and on no pretence + Aspire to high-flown ode or "lover's litany"! + + But still you've _asked_ me, and I'd much regret + Not to oblige you promptly, if I know a way; + The more so, as you've just dropped in to get + A cup of tea and smoke a c-g-r-tte. + (By Jove, I hope I haven't giv'n the show away!) + + Well, I've not _said_ much, but I've thought the more: + If I were fulsome in your praise, why, "Drat it!" you'd + Most probably remark, or "What a bore!" + So, therefore, please between the lines explore-- + 'Twas _you_ who bade me thus descend to platitude! + + * * * * * + +'ARRY says he was "much interested in 'earing of a nartickle in the +_St. James's Gazette_ last week, 'eaded _The 'Aunt of the Otter_. He +'opes the writer will next give us _The Uncle of the Coolie_." + + * * * * * + +OPERATIC NOTES. + +[Illustration] + +_Saturday._--Production of _Harold_. New Opera; music by COWEN, book +by Sir E. MALET, British Representative man in service of Foreign +Office, writing words for diplomatic, and words for musical notes. +However good-tempered a composer may be, yet when he wants to write +an opera he cannot get on without "having words." No time left to +give full criticism on _Harold_, which achieved sufficient success to +satisfy composer and librettist; it may be as well to state that there +is nothing "old" in it, except in last syllable of name. Years +ago favourite subject with artists was "the finding of the body of +HAROLD." Sir EDWARD has found body; COWEN clothed it. ALBANI is its +life and soul. Composer conducted. May probably be heard again this +season; so no more at present. + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +My Baronite, constitutionally credulous, on reading the earlier works +of JOHN OLIVER HOBBES, accepted the masculinity of the author as put +forward on the title page. On reading _The Gods, Some Mortals, and +Lord Wickenham_ (HENRY & CO.), he begins to doubt. No man, not the +weakest-minded amongst us, habitually uses italics in writing a book. +Moreover, none but a woman could draw such a creature as _Mrs. Anne +Warre_. The more generous masculine nature could not imagine anything +so unrelievedly undesirable. Doubtless she is made so bad the more +strikingly to compare with _Allegra_, "whose charm was the charm of +springtime and love, all the kind promises of the sunshine, the life, +the tenderness, the warmth, the graciousness of nature." The book, the +most ambitious, and, in point of length, the most important, that has +come from the pen of JOHN OLIVER HOBBES, is marked by her gift of +keen observation, that sees everything and sees through most people. +Dialogue and narrative sparkle with felicitous turns, bubble over with +epigram. There are boundless possibilities in JOHN OLIVER HOBBES; +but she should turn her face more persistently to the sunlight. _Dr. +Warre_ and _Allegra_ are so good and so pleasant, that the average +reader would like a little more of them, and a little less of the +almost impossible _Mrs. Warre_. + +The proper study of mankind is man, and there could not be an apter +tutor than Mr. SMALLEY. His _Studies of Men_ (MACMILLAN), have, as +he tells us in a preface, appeared for the most part in the _New York +Tribune_. Everyone conversant with newspaper work will know that for +many years Mr. SMALLEY'S Letter from London to what, take it all in +all, is the principal, certainly the weightiest, journal in the United +States, has been its most prominent feature. A selection of these +contributions have, happily, been rescued from the files of the +newspaper, and are here presented. The Studies cover a wide range, but +the subjects are all, in diverse fashion, interesting. One is struck +with the extreme fairness of judgment displayed in dealing with +men who stand so far apart as, for example, Mr. ARTHUR BALFOUR, Mr. +PARNELL, Mr. SPURGEON, TENNYSON, Lord ROSEBERY, Sir WILLIAM HARCOURT, +Mr. FROUDE, Mr. JOHN WALTER, and Lord RANDOLPH CHURCHILL. During his +long residence in England Mr. SMALLEY has known these and others, +personally and in their public aspect. He has stored a picture gallery +in which posterity may see them as they lived, nothing extenuated nor +anything set down in malice. By way of redressing afresh the balance +between the Old World and the New, Mr. SMALLEY has turned his back on +London, and, having all these years written about Europeans, for the +edification of Transatlantic readers, is about to tell Europe, in +the columns of the _Times_, something of the undercurrent of public +affairs in the United States. He will find in himself a most damaging +rival. + + THE BARON DE B.-W. + + * * * * * + +A HOME-CURED TONGUE.--At a meeting of the "Gaelic League" in Dublin +the other day, "the proceedings were conducted exclusively in Irish." +Dr. DOUGLAS HYDE, the President, said that the movement was advancing +in favour every day, and that, "if this regress continued, the future +of the Irish language was assured." But how about the future of those +who have to listen to it? He subsequently read a poem called "An +Bhainrioghan Aluinn," and, after that had the hardihood to remark that +"both young and old take a delight" in speaking the language. As +_Mr. Pickwick_ would have said to _Dr. Peter Magnus Hyde_,--"It is +calculated to cause them the highest gratification." + + * * * * * + +MEM. BY AN UNLUCKY AMATEUR DABBLER IN THE CITY.--To go in for "Specs" +is short-sighted policy. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE NEW WOMAN. + +"YOU'RE NOT LEAVING US, JACK? TEA WILL BE HERE DIRECTLY!" + +"OH, I'M GOING FOR A CUP OF TEA IN THE SERVANTS' HALL. I CAN'T GET ON +WITHOUT FEMALE SOCIETY, YOU KNOW!"] + + * * * * * + +THE SHAHZADA ON THE THAMES. + +"You will assist," quoth _Mr. Punch_ to TOBY, "in giving the SHAHZADA +a cheery welcome on board the P. and O.'s _Caledonia_. And _these_," +continued _Mr. P._, handing TOBY a packet and a purse containing +untold gold "are your secret instructions." + +"They shall be faithfully obeyed," replied the ever-faithful TOBY; +adding, "_À bon_ SHAH, _bon hur-rah!_" + +* * * + +Day lovely; voyage perfect. Father Thames at his best. Sir THOMAS +SUTHERLAND, M.P. and O., and all the goodly company, drank the +SHAHZADA'S health most heartily. Then capital short speech from +Right Honourable FOWLER about India. SHAHZADA satisfied with dinner, +gratified by reception. On deck the SHAHZADA called TOBY aside. +Interpreter intervened. "_Detnaw ton! Tuoteg!_" said the SHAHZADA, +quietly, but authoritatively. + +The interpreter retired, muttering to himself "Bow-strings for one." +"Look here," said the SHAHZADA to TOBY ... and they discussed affairs +(TOBY acting as _Mr. P.'s_ representative) of such importance that +they cannot be even hinted at in this or any other place. "And now," +said the SHAHZADA, still speaking in his native language, of which +this is a translation, "is it not true that one of your national +institutions at Greenwich is----" + +"The Fair?" + +"Bah!" laughed the SHAHZADA, "that has long since vanished; so have +the Pensioners at the Hospital. But----" + +"There is still hospitality," murmured TOBY, salaaming his very best. + +"There is," returned the SHAHZADA, "and _you_ shall show it." + +"What can I do for you, your Royal Highness?" asked TOBY. + +The SHAHZADA drew him yet further apart from the envious crowd, and +whispered in his ear. + +"Your Royal Highness," answered TOBY, "it shall be done. Command that +the boat be stopped at Greenwich." + +So the boat was stopped at Greenwich, and the SHAHZADA, with TOBY, +debarked. Great cheering. + +* * * + +8 P.M.--_Telegraphic Message from Toby to Mr. Punch, Fleet Street._ + +_Cannot come to dinner. Shahzada and self enjoying tea and shrimps. +All gone--except the shrimps. No money returned. Did it for +one-and-ten, shall pocket difference. Shahzada says best entertainment +ever had. See you later. Larks._ + + TOBY. + + * * * * * + +THE WARS OF THE ROSES. + +(_A Sheffield Cricket Song, by a True "Tyke."_) + + ["The fifty-fifth contest on the cricket field between the + rival counties of Yorkshire and Lancashire ended yesterday + (June 5) in a victory for the representatives of the Red + Rose by 145 runs, and the record now reads--Yorkshire won 23, + Lancashire won 23, and 9 drawn."--_The Leeds Mercury._] + + Red rose and white! A pleasant summer sight, + As a Midsummer Dream may well imagine it! + How different far from the wild wordy fight + 'Twixt furious SOMERSET and fierce PLANTAGANET! + Bramhall Lane Ground presents a peacefuller scene + Than that once witnessed in the Temple Garden. + Here's war of wickets, on a sward as green + And as unreddened as the glades of Arden. + WARD, not hot SUFFOLK, fights for the Red Rose, + JACKSON, not VERNON, battles for the White One. + True York _v._ Lancashire are still the foes, + Nor is the issue now at stake a slight one; + But whether JACKSON be twice bowled by MOLD, + Or twice PEEL give young ALBERT his _quietus_, + The battle is as friendly as 'tis bold. + PAUL, with his eighty-seven, helps defeat us, + But brave Lord HAWKE, our Captain, makes his pile, + And there is comfort in the score of WAINWRIGHT. + If SUGG and BAKER make the Red Rose smile, + HIRST his true "Yorkers" down the pitch will rain right. + Some holiday-makers seek the grassy down, + And some will bask by seashore, or on sunny cliff, + Give me to watch the fine straight bat of BROWN, + The bail of MILLIGAN, the catch of TUNNICLIFFE, + Dead level now are Lancashire and York, + The Red Rose and the White bear equal blossoms. + Now comes the tug of war! Now must we work, + Active as catamounts, and sly as 'possums. + But this we know--that at _our_ noble game, + With HAWKE the hearty, and with stout MCLAREN, + The White Rose shall not have to blush with shame, + Nor the Red Rose, through funk, blanch and grow barren! + + * * * * * + +HIS NEW TITLE.--Dr. GRACE, C.B. ("Companion of the Bat"). + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "DEEDS-NOT WORDS!" + +JOHN BULL. "LOOK HERE,--WE'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR PALAVER! ARE YOU +GOING TO LET THE GIRL GO, OR HAVE WE GOT TO MAKE YOU?"] + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: _Ragged Urchin_ (_who has just picked up very short +and dirty end of a Cigarette_). "HI, BILLY! LOOK 'ERE! SEE WHAT YOU'VE +MISSED!"] + + * * * * * + + +'ARRY AND THE BATTERSEA PARK LADY CYCLISTS. + + DEAR CHARLIE,--You know I'm a "biker." + I told yer a good bit ago + 'Ow I learnt to cavort on the cycle; and now, + from Land's End to Soho, + There isn't a scorchinger Scorcher than + 'ARRY, when fair on the spin. + Some _might_ do me for pace, but for style, + and for skylark, I'd jest about win. + + LIL JOHNSON--you know little LIL with the + copper-wire fringe and rum lisp! + 'Er as flower-mounts Clerkenwell way, an' + wos donah to young IKY CRISP! + She's blue sancho on learnin' to "bike," so I + took 'er to Battersea Park, + As I'd 'eard wos _the_ pitch for a spry lydy + cyclist as longed for a lark. + + Larks, CHARLIE! It's spruce, and no + pickles! You know I fly cool without fidge, + But I wosn't prepared for the toppers as + treddle it nigh Chelsea Bridge. + No slow Surrey-siders, my pippin, but smart + bits o' frock from Mayfair; + It took _me_ aback for a jiff, tho' of course + I wos speedy all there. + + "Lor, 'AWWEE!" lisped LIL, "thith _ith_ + thplendid! But 'adn't _we_ better sthand by? + Thee 'ow thpiffing they thpinth, thoth sthwell + lydith! No,'AWWEE, I don't _like_ ter twy. + Fanthy me in my cotton pwint wobbling + among thuch A-wonnerth ath thoth! + Look at 'er in the kniekerth and gaiterth, and + thpot t'otherth Balbriggan hoth!" + + Poor LIL! She's no clarss, not comparative. + Ain't got no savvy, yer see; + And carn't 'old 'er own among quolity, not + with a flyer like me. + Don't like to be done, _I_ don't CHARLIE; and + so I sez "Jest as yer like. + Ony, if _I_ meant biking, in Battersea, dash it + old girl, _I_ should _bike_!" + + "Oh, 'AWWEE," sez she, "you're a 'ot 'un! + But let uth look on, dear, _thith_ go; + Yer thee I carn't balanth, or pedal. I don't + want ter myke _you_ no show." + "All right," I sez, 'orty an' airy. But _ontry + noo_, CHARLIE, old pal, + When I stocked up them beauties on bikes, I + wos most arf ashymed o' _my_ gal. + + One young piece in grey knicks and cream + cloth, and a sort of soft tile called a _toke_, + Took my fancy perdigious, dear boy. I'd + ha' blued arf-a-bull to 'ave spoke, + But a stiff-bristled swell in a dog-cart 'ad got + a sharp eye upon _'er_; + And _I_ couldn't ha' done the perlite without + raising a bit of a stir. + + If I could ha' got rid o' LIL, I'd ha' mounted + my wheel, and wired in, + Balloon-tyred smart safety, old man! _I_'d + ha' showed Miss GREY KNICKS 'ow to spin. + One tasty young thing wos in tears, 'cos the + bike she'd bespoke wosn't there, + I hoffered 'er mine, but the arnser I got wos + a freeze-me-stiff stare. + + "Thtuck-up cat, my dear 'AWWEE!" sez LIL. + "Well," sez I, "she _may_ be a Princess, + As a lot o' them hexercise here. Lydy B. + and a young Marcherness + Do paternise Battersea Park on a bike; + leastways so I've bin told; + And the breakfusts and five-o'clock teas give + by dooks is a sight to behold." + + "Garn, 'AWWEE," snigs LIL, "you're a + kiddin'. But, thithorth! it ith a rum thing. + To thee Batterthea Park, ath wath onth all + kid-cwicket and kith-in-the ring, + Now the pet-pitch of thwell lydy thyclists!" + "It shows yer," I sez, "'ow things move. + From hansoms and bus-tops to bikes! Oh, + the lydies _must_ keep on the shove. + + "They borrow their barnies from _hus_, arter all, + LIL. Toffs want a new lark, + So they straddle the bike _ah lah_ Brixton, and + tumble to Battersea Park. + 'Divideds' and 'Knickers,' my dysy, are + sniffed at out Hislington way, + But when countesses mount 'em at Chelsea, + they're trotty and puffeck O K!" + + World shifts it, old man, that's a moral! + We'll soon 'ave some duchess, on wheels, + A-cuttin' all records, and showing young + ZIMMY a clean pair of 'eels. + Hadvanced Women? Jimminy-Whizz! With + the spars and the sails they now carry + They'll race us all round, pooty soon, and + romp in heasy winners! Yours, + 'ARRY. + + * * * * * + + +RATHER A HANDFUL! + +There seems to be a feeling among lady writers that they also should +have been remembered in the Birthday-honour distribution. That is +all very well, but quite a new demand has been started by the _Cork +Constitution_, which remarks,-- + + "It would not of course be regular to bestow a knighthood upon + a lady; but the rule in the case of Mrs. DISRAELI might be + observed, and a Baroness be conferred upon the author of _Lady + Audley's Secret_." + +What would MISS BRADDON do with a Baroness when she got her? Work her +up into her next plot? Peeresses must be "cheap to-day," if they can +be given away in this generous style. + + * * * * * + + +A LAMENT. + +(CHEAPSIDE, JUNE 6, 1895.) + + Oh, princely guest from Afghan clime, + The poet's lot is hard! Ah! + When he would find the proper rhyme, + To balance with Shah-_zada_! + + I see the guardsman ride erect, + The bugle sounds! Aha! + _My_ part should be, in verse correct, + To greet the Shahza-_da_! + + Thy quantities have kill'd my song! + Despair! I'm off to Mada- + gascar, or anywhere! I long + To have it right. Shah-_z[)a]d[)a]?_ + + * * * * * + + +A FAIR Correspondent adds the letters "L. C. C." after her signature. +She is _not_ a member of the London County Council, but of the "Lady +Cyclists Club." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: PARLIAMENTARY INDIAN EXHIBITION.] + + * * * * * + +A KIND INQUIRY. + +DEAR MR. PUNCH,--A touching epitaph has lately come under my notice. +It runs as follows:-- + +"HIC JACET ANONYMA. + + She dwelt among the untrodden ways, + Where yellow asters throve, + A maid whom there were few to praise + And fewer still to love. + + She lived unknown, so none can know + The hour she ceased to be, + Enough to know she has, and oh! + Pray, all men, R. I. P." + +Is it possible that our old friend, the New Woman, that quite +"impossible she," has left us for "another place"? It seems almost too +good to be true. + +Yours unfeelingly, + + A. MISONEOGYNIST. + +P.S.--You will observe that she died a spinster, of uncertain age. + + * * * * * + +A sportsman, not particularly literary, but very fond of theatricals, +says that he hears there is a play going on called _Don Quickshot_. +He thinks the first syllable may have been accidentally omitted, but +feels certain that the _London Quickshot_ ought to make a hit. + + * * * * * + +Scoring for DR. GRACE.--"A Running Commentary." + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: HOW THINGS WILL OUT. + +(_The Judge is not at home, and Brown, Q.C., asks permission to write +him a Note._) + +_Mary Elizabeth Jane._ "WOULD YOU LIKE THIS BOOK, SIR? MASTER ALWAYS +USES IT WHEN HE WRITES LETTERS!" + + [_Heavens! it's an English Dictionary!_ +] + + * * * * * + +TOWN AND GOWN. + +The _Standard_, giving its account of "Speeches," at Eton, on Fourth +of June, said, "The speakers were attired in Court dress, the Oppidans +wearing their black school gowns." Since when have Oppidans worn +"gowns," black or otherwise? Those who used to wear gowns were the +Collegers. Surely the custom, sanctioned by some centuries, has not +been changed. The "Oppidans," or Town Boys, could not possibly be +metamorphosed into Gown Boys--at least so writes to us + + THE TUG OF WARRE. + + * * * * * + +GOOD EVANS!--The _Daily Telegraph_ reported "The Heroism of a Lady." +The act and deed was that of Miss EVANS, of Hythe, near Southampton, +who, after rescuing a man and a woman from drowning, plunged in again, +dived, and rescued a girl, who was sinking for the third and last +time. The girl saved will ever gratefully remember Miss EVANS as the +lady who "brought her up by hand," and in finishing her education she +will not neglect the extra-accomplishment of swimming. Honour to Miss +EVANS, who is a real female champion, not of the Salvation Army, but +of a Nautical Salvage Corps! + + * * * * * + +A NOCTURNE IN NOODLEDOM. + +(_What the Heart of the Young Masher said to the Music-hall Singer._) + +(A LONG WAY AFTER LONGFELLOW.) + +AIR--"_The Day is Done._" + + The day is done, and the darkness + Falls from the brow of night, + Like a crape-mask drifting downward + From a burglar in his flight. + + I see the lights of "the village" + Gleam through the evening mist, + And a feeling of dryness comes o'er me, + And a tiddley I can't resist. + + A feeling of blueness, and longing + For a spree, and another drain; + It resembles sorrow only + As gooseberry does champagne. + + Come, tip me some snappy poem, + Some iky and rorty lay, + That shall banish this chippy feeling, + And drive dull care away. + + Not from the slow old stodges, + Not from the smugs sublime, + Who hadn't a notion of patter, + And were slaves to tune and time: + + For, like chunks of WAGNER'S music, + They worrying thoughts suggest, + Dull duty, and dry endeavour, + And to-night I long for rest. + + Tip a stave from some Lion Comique, + Whose songs are snide and smart, + And who makes you roar, like ROBERTS, + Till tears from your optics start. + + Who, without thought or labour, + And "on his own," with ease, + Can whack out the ripping chorus + Of music-hall melodies. + + Such songs have power to quicken + The pulse that beats low with care; + And come like the "Benedictine" + That follows the bill-of-fare. + + So pick from the cad, or the coster, + Some patter--slang for choice; + And lend to the rhymes of the Comique + The tones of a stentor voice. + + And our feet shall thump tune to the music, + And the bills that I cannot pay + Shall be folded up, like my brolly, + And as carefully put away. + + * * * * * + +THE GOOSE AND THE EAGLE. + +(_A Fable._) + +A Goose that had miss-spent a long life, and, in addition to being +old and ugly, was of a sour, ill-natured disposition, in despair of +rendering herself any longer agreeable to her male acquaintances, +conceived the desperate design of emancipating her female friends. + +"It is intolerable," she declared to a large assemblage of the latter +who flocked together directly the news of her design was noised +abroad, "it is intolerable that, whilst all the good things of this +life are reserved for the exclusive use and enjoyment of our male +tyrants, we poor female creatures should be put off with feeble bodies +and dowdy, unattractive plumage. I will go immediately to the King of +Birds and demand the instant redress of these grievances under pain of +my serious displeasure." + +Scarcely had the Goose received the thanks of her audience for this +valiant speech, when an Eagle, which chanced to be soaring at that +moment in the heavens above them, and was attracted by the clamour +that reached him, dropped suddenly to the earth in order to discover +the cause of it; to whom the Goose, so soon as she was sufficiently +recovered of her fears, humbly addressed her complaint. + +"Foolish bird!" exclaimed the Eagle, when the Goose had made an end +of her complainings, "know you not that what is fixed by Nature cannot +possibly be altered by birds; and that if your sex have weaker bodies +and a less attractive plumage than belong to us of the male gender, it +is because Nature wills it so, and must be obeyed? Learn to be content +with what you have, and cease envying those to whom Nature has been +more prodigal of certain favours than she has been to you. Remember, +also, foolish bird! that strength of mind is not the same thing with +strength of body, and that though you may possess the one and pretend +to despise the other, yet is Might the foundation of nearly all Right +in the animal world, and must remain so because Nature will have it so +and must be obeyed." + + * * * * * + +SHAKSPEARIAN CHARACTERS AT MANCHESTER,--Last Friday H.R.H. the +Prince of WALES'S horse _Florizel II._ took the cake, or, rather, +the Manchester Cup. _Florizel II._ is now _Florizel I._ In this new +illustration to a Summer's not _A Winter's Tale_, _Perdita_ should +represent the race from the point of view of those who didn't win. + + * * * * * + +ANOTHER TITLE!! SUPPLEMENTAL GAZETTE OF BIRTHDAY HONOURS.--DR. W. G. +GRACE to be Cricket-Field-Marshal. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "JUST LOOK AT MR. JONES OVER THERE, FLIRTING WITH THAT +GIRL! I ALWAYS THOUGHT HE WAS A WOMAN-HATER?" + +"SO HE IS; BUT SHE'S NOT HERE TO-NIGHT!"] + + * * * * * + +"AS SIMPLE AS ITALIAN." + +(_A Dramatic Fragment from Drury Lane._) + + SCENE--_The Auditorium of the National Theatre. Present the + customary throng. A performance on the stage is occupying the + spectators' wrapt attention. Newly-married couple in stalls + holding a discussion in undertones._ + +_Angelina._ I am so glad, dear, you did not get a book of the words. +It will be such a capital exercise for my Italian. I find that I can +understand every word. + +_Edwin_ (_happy to have saved the expense of purchasing a translated +libretto_). Quite so, dear. You can tell me what they are doing. + +_Ang._ Certainly, dear. Look, they are now having supper. You see, the +heroine called for candles, and the waiter put them on the table. And +now they are talking about things in general. And that is _Armande_. +And don't you see _Marguerite_ is ill. + +_Edwin._ Yes; she is fainting in front of a window. + +_Ang._ Exactly. Italian is so easy--almost like English. She gives him +a flower, and he goes away. He says adieu, and then the curtain falls. + +_Edwin_ Was that in Italian too? + +_Ang._ Don't be absurd. (_They discuss things in general, until the +curtain rises on the Second Act._) Look, it is the same scene. You +see, they are engaged. She is making love to him. + +_Edwin._ Is that why he is sitting in a chair with his back to the +audience while _Marguerite_ strokes his hair? + +_Ang._ Yes. While she is stroking his hair she is saying how fond she +is of him. And now he is telling her how fond he is of her. + +_Edwin_ (_after a quarter of an hour_). What are they saying? + +_Ang._ Oh, just the same thing over and over again. The Italian +language is so beautiful. "Oh, _Armande_!" She calls him by his +Christian name. She is so attached to him. + +_Edwin._ But what was the meaning of that? + +_Ang._ (_at the end of the Act_). Oh, don't you see, he said something +that pleased her. Then she kissed him. Really, I had no idea how +easy Italian was. Of course, one understands it from knowing French. +(_Entr'acte passes as before, and curtain rises on Act Three._) Ah, +here we are at Auteuil. Yes, and here comes _Marguerite_ with some +flowers. Isn't it interesting? + +_Edwin._ Isn't this piece rather like the _Traviata_? + +_Ang._ I don't know. But I never saw the Opera. And there, that old +gentleman has come to call upon _Marguerite_. + +_Edwin._ Why, of course, like the old chap with the baritone song. Now +I begin to understand Italian myself. + +_Ang._ Do you, dear? Well, you see, he was going to be rude, and then +they made it up, and she gave him a chair. And there, do you see? +she leaves a letter for _Armande_. It is for him to read. And now she +leaves him. And he is reading the letter. + +_Edwin._ And doesn't seem to like it. And there's the old chap +(_without the song_), and he is consoling him. + +_Ang._ (_after a glance at her playbill_). Yes, because they are +father and son. (_The Fourth Act passes, and she explains to her +husband that Marguerite has been playing at cards, and that Armande is +very angry with her._) That's why he throws money at her. + +_Edwin._ Rather a cad--_Armande_. + +_Ang._ Oh, no. You know we must not judge foreigners by an English +standard. (_The last Act commences._) You see, she is very ill. That +cradle covered with rugs is her bed. + +_Edwin._ Indeed! + +_Ang._ Yes. And that I suppose must be the doctor. I wonder what they +are saying! This Act they all seem to be talking faster than they did +in the others. That old woman was her friend. I wonder why she has +left her like that! + +_Edwin._ Didn't she say something like "What a rum go?" It is the only +line I have understood since the commencement of the performance. What +is she saying now? + +_Ang._ (_hesitating_). Well, I am not quite sure. But you see she is +very ill. She scarcely recognises _Armande_. + +_Edwin._ What is he saying? What has he done with his father? + +_Ang._ (_perplexed_). I can't quite follow this Act--they talk so +fast. + +_Edwin._ And, I say, why on earth have these two turned up? A lady in +complete bridal costume--wreath, veil, and all--and a chap in evening +dress. What on earth have _they_ got to do with the story? + +_Ang._ Don't you think, dear, we had better get a book? + +_Edwin_ (_ignoring the suggestion_). There's the poor thing dead! + +_Ang._ Ah, I understood the last bit quite well. The Italian language +is so much more expressive than our own, isn't it, dear? + +_Edwin._ Darling, it is! + + [_Cigarettes, cabs, and Curtain_. + + * * * * * + + + + +Transcriber's Note + +Sundry damages or missing punctuation has been repaired. + +Page 277: 'Christain' corrected to 'Christian'. "(says this truly +Christian cleric)". + +Page 282: 'Plantaganet' retained: sometimes appears as an +alternative spelling of 'Plantagenet'. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. +108, June 15th, 1895, by Various + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42530 *** |