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diff --git a/42546-0.txt b/42546-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ca7a4cc --- /dev/null +++ b/42546-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1206 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42546 *** + + PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + + VOL. 107. + + August 11, 1894. + + + + + LORD ORMONT'S MATE AND MATEY'S AMINTA. + + BY G***GE M*R*D*TH. + + VOLUME III. + +And now the climax comes not with tongue-lolling sheep-fleece wolves, +ears on top remorselessly pricked for slaughter of the bleating imitated +lamb, here a fang pointing to nethermost pit not of stomach but of +Acheron, tail waving in derision of wool-bearers whom the double-rowed +desiring mouth soon shall grip, food for mamma-wolf and baby-wolf, +papa-wolf looking on, licking chaps expectant of what shall remain; and +up goes the clamour of flocks over the country-side, and up goes howling +of shepherds shamefully tricked by Æsop-fable artifice or doggish +dereliction of primary duty; for a watch has been set through which the +wolf-enemy broke paws on the prowl; and the King feels this, and the +Government, a slab-faced jubber-mubber of contending punies, +party-voters to the front, conscience lagging how far behind no man can +tell, and the country forgotten, a lout dragging his chaw-bacon hobnails +like a flask-fed snail housed safely, he thinks, in unbreakable shell +soon to be broken, and no man's fault, while the slow country sinks to +the enemy, ships bursting, guns jammed, and a dull shadow of defeat on a +war-office drifting to the tide-way of unimagined back-stops on a lumpy +cricket-field of national interests. But this was a climax revealed to +the world. The Earl was deaf to it. Lady CHARLOTTE dumbed it +surprisingly. Change the spelling, put a for u and n for b in the +dumbed, and you have the way MORSFIELD mouthed it, and MATEY swimming +with BROWNY full in the Harwich tide; head under heels up down they go +in Old Ocean, a glutton of such embraces, lapping softly on a pair of +white ducks tar-stained that very morning and no mistake. + +"I have you fast!" cried MATEY. + +"Two and two's four," said BROWNY. She slipped. "_Are_ four," corrected +he, a tutor at all times, boys and girls taken in and done for, and no +change given at the turnstiles. + +"Catch as catch can," was her next word. Plop went a wave full in the +rosy mouth. "Where's the catch of this?" stuttered the man. + +"A pun, a pun!" bellowed the lady. "But not by four-in-hand from +London." + +She had him there. He smiled a blue acquiescence. So they landed, and +the die was cast, ducks changed, and the goose-pair braving it in dry +clothes by the kitchen fire. There was nothing else to be done; for the +answer confessed to a dislike of immersions two at a time, and the hair +clammy with salt like cottage-bacon on a breakfast-table. + +Lord ORMONT sat with the jewels seized from the debating, unbeaten +sister's grasp. + +"She is at Marlow," he opined. + +"Was," put in Lady CHARLOTTE. + +The answer blew him for memory. + +"MORSFIELD's dead," his lordship ventured; "jobbed by a foil with button +off." + +"And a good job too." + +Lady CHARLOTTE was ever on the crest-wave of the moment's humour. He +snicked a back-stroke to the limits, shaking the sparse hair of +repentance to the wind of her jest. But the unabashed one continued. + +"I'll not call on her." + +"You shall," said he. + +"Shan't," was her lightning-parry. + +"You shall," he persisted. + +"Never. Her head is a water-flower that speaks at ease in the open sea. +How call on a woman with a head like that?" + +The shock struck him fair and square. + +"We wait," he said, and the conflict closed with advantage to the +petticoat. + +A footman bore a letter. His step was of the footman order, calves +stuffed to a longed-for bulbousness, food for donkeys if any such should +chance: he presented it. + +"I wait," he murmured. + +"Whence and whither comes it?" + +"Postmark may tell." + +"Best open it," said the cavalry general, ever on the dash for open +country where squadrons may deploy right shoulders up, serre-files in +rear, and a hideous clatter of serjeant-majors spread over all. He +opened it. It was AMINTA's letter. She announced a French leave-taking. +The footman still stood. Lord ORMONT broke the silence. + +"Go and be----" the words quivered into completion, supply the blank who +will. + +But her punishment was certain. For it must be thus. Never a lady left +her wedded husband, but she must needs find herself weighted with charge +of his grand-nephew. Cuckoo-tutor sits in General's nest, General's wife +to bear him company, and lo! the General brings a grand-nephew to the +supplanter, convinced of nobility beyond petty conventions of +divorce-court rigmarole. So the world wags wilful to the offshoot, +lawn-mowers grating, grass flying, and perspiring gardener slow in his +shirt-sleeves primed with hope of beer that shall line his lean ribs at +supper-time, nine o'clock is it, or eight--parishes vary, and a wife at +home has rules. A year later he wrote-- + +"SIR,--Another novel is on hand. Likely you will purchase. Readers gape +for it. Better than acrostics, they say, fit for fifty puzzle-pages. +What price? + "G***GE M*R*D*TH." + THE END. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: NO END TO HIS INIQUITIES. + + (_From a Yorkshire Moor._) + +_Sportsman (awaiting the morrow, and meeting Keeper as he strolls +round)._ "WELL, RODGERS, THINGS LOOK FAIRLY HOPEFUL FOR TOMORROW, EH?" + +_Rodgers (strong Tory)._ "WELL, SIR, MIDLIN', PRETTY MIDLIN'. BUT, OH +DEAR, IT'S AWK'ARD THIS 'ERE TWELFTH BEIN' FIXED OF A SUNDAY!" (_With +much wisdom._) "NOW, MIGHT MR. GLADSTONE HA' HAD HANYTHING TO DO WI' +THAT ARRANGEMENT, SIR?" ] + + * * * * * + + THE MARCH OF CIVILISATION. + +(_From a Record in the Far East._) + +_Step One._--The nation takes to learning the English language. + +_Step Two._--Having learned the English language, the nation begins to +read British newspapers. + +_Step Three._--Having mastered the meaning of the leaders, the nation +start a Parliament. + +_Step Four._--Having got a Parliament, the nation establishes school +boards, railways, stockbrokers, and penny ices. + +_Step Five._--Having become fairly civilised, the nation takes up art +and commerce. + +_Step Six._--Having realised considerable wealth, the nation purchases +any amount of ironclads, heavy ordnance, and ammunition. + +_Step Seven._--Having the means within reach, the nation indulges in a +terrific war. + +_Step Eight and Last._--Having lost everything, the nation returns with +a sigh of relief to old-fashioned barbarism. + + [Illustration: THE TRIUMPH OF CIVILISATION!] + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: A HINT TO THE POSTAL AUTHORITIES. + +THE EMPLOYMENT OF GOOD-LOOKING AND ATTRACTIVE YOUNG MEN IN CLEARING THE +LETTER-BOXES UNDOUBTEDLY RESULTS IN FREQUENT DETENTION OF THE MAILS.] + + * * * * * + + EASTWARD HO! + + "Oh East is East, and West is West," says strenuous RUDYARD KIPLING, + And what has the West taught to the East, + save the science of war, and tippling? + To ram, and to torpedo, and to drain Drink's poisoned flagons? + And Civilisation sees her work in--armour-plated Dragons! + The saurians of primeval slime they fought with tooth and claw, + And SHO-KI'S dragon, though possessed of wondrous powers of jaw, + And MIOCHIN'S scaly monster, whereat SHO-KI'S pluck might melt, + And the dragon speared by stout St. George in the bold cartoons + of SKELT,-- + These were but simple monsters, like the giants slain by JACK, + But your dragon cased in armour-plate with turrets on his back, + And a charged torpedo twisted in his huge and horrid tail. + Is a thing to stagger Science, and to make poor Peace turn pale! + + Yes, East is East, and West is West; but the West looks on the East, + And sees the bold Jap summoning to War's wild raven-feast + The saffron-faced Celestial; and the game they're going to play + (With a touch of Eastern goriness) in the wicked Western way. + For the yellow-man has borrowed from the white-man all that's bad, + From shoddy and fire-water, to the costly Ironclad. + He will not have our Bibles, but he welcomes our Big Guns, + And he blends with the wild savagery of Vandals, Goths or Huns, + The scientific slaughter of the Blood-and-Iron Teuton!-- + A sight that Civilisation would right willingly be mute on. + But these armour-plated dragons that infest the Yellow Sea + Are worse than the Norse "Dragons" whose black raven flag flew free + O'er fiord and ocean-furrow in the valorous Viking days. + Heathen Chinee and Pagan Jap have learned our Western ways + Of multitudinous bloodshed; every slaughtering appliance, + Devices of death-dealing skill, and deviltries of Science + Strengthen the stealthy Mongol and the sanguinary Turk; + And Civilisation stands, and stares, and cries, + "Is this _my_ work?" + + * * * * * + + Mem. by a Muddled One. + + "Poems in Prose" seem all the go. + _They_'re bad enough, but worse + The dreary hotch-potch we all know + Too sadly;--prose in verse! + + * * * * * + + OLD THREE-VOL. + + There rose two Book-Kings in the West, + Two Kings both great and high; + And they have sworn a solemn oath + Good old Three-Vol. shall die. + + They took a pen and wrote him down, + Piled sins upon his head; + And they have sworn a solemn oath + Good old Three-Vol. is dead. + + But when "the Season" comes once more, + And folks for fiction call, + Old Three-Vol. _may_ rise up again, + And sore surprise them all! + + * * * * * + + REMNANTS. + + (_A Pindaric Fragment._) + + In the young season's prime + Yon remnant felt its major portion reft, + And waited for the surplus time + Ingloriously left. + + For it no glories of the lawn, + No whirling in the valse that greets the dawn, + No record in the fleeting roll of fame + That gives the wearer's name, + And tells a waiting world what gown she wore; + While that which went before + No cheaply-sober destiny has found + But graced fair Fashion's ground, + Where Pleasure, gaily deck'd, + Within the fancied circle of select, + Watches the Polo cavalry at war, + The victim pigeons tumbled in their gore, + The rival Blues at Lord's, the racing steeds + On Ascot's piney meads, + Or where luxuriant Goodwood's massy trees + Murmur to no common breeze, + And see afar the glint of England's summer seas. + + Impute no fault, ye proud, nor grandeur mock, + If frugal Elegance, discreet and fair, + The aftermath of lavish Fashion reap, + And, having waited long with nought to wear, + Get the same goods, though late, and get them cheap. + Next year the daintiest gowns by lawn and lock + May haply be the fruit of surplus summer stock. + + * * * * * + +POPE FOR THE EMANCIPATED SEX.--"The understudy of mankind is woman." + + * * * * * + + LYRE AND LANCET. + + (_A Story in Scenes._) + + PART VI.--ROUND PEGS IN SQUARE HOLES. + + SCENE IX.--_The Entrance Hall at Wyvern._ + +_Tredwell_ (_to_ Lady CANTIRE). This way, if you please, my lady. Her +ladyship is in the Hamber Boudwore. + +_Lady Cantire._ Wait. (_She looks round._) What has become of that young +Mr. ANDROM----? (_Perceiving_ SPURRELL, _who has been modestly +endeavouring to efface himself._) Ah, _there_ he is! Now, come along, +and be presented to my sister-in-law. She'll be enchanted to know you! + +_Spurrell._ But indeed, my lady I--I think I'd better wait till she +sends for me. + +_Lady Cant._ Wait? Fiddlesticks! What! A famous young man like you! +Remember _Andromeda_, and don't make yourself so ridiculous! + +_Spurr._ (_miserably_). Well, Lady CANTIRE, if her ladyship _says_ +anything, I hope you'll bear me out that it wasn't---- + +_Lady Cant._ Bear you out? My good young man, you seem to need somebody +to bear you _in_! Come, you are under My wing. _I_ answer for your +welcome--so do as you're told. + +_Spurr._ (_to himself, as he follows resignedly_). It's my belief +there'll be a jolly row when I _do_ go in; but it's not my fault! + +_Tred._ (_opening the door of the Amber Boudoir_), Lady CANTIRE and Lady +MAISIE MULL. (_To_ SPURRELL.) What name, if you please, Sir? + +_Spurr._ (_dolefully_). You can say "JAMES SPURRELL"--you needn't +_bellow_ it, you know! + +_Tred._ (_ignoring this suggestion_). Mr. JAMES SPURRELL. + +_Spurr._ (_to himself, on the threshold_). If I don't get the chuck for +this, I _shall_ be surprised, that's all! + + [_He enters._ + + [Illustration: "What name, if you please, Sir?"] + + SCENE X.--_In a Fly._ + +_Undershell_ (_to himself_). Alone with a lovely girl, who has no +suspicion, as yet, that I am the poet whose songs have thrilled her with +admiration! _Could_ any situation be more romantic? I think I must keep +up this little mystification as long as possible. + +_Phillipson_ (_to herself_). I wonder who he is. _Somebody's_ Man, I +suppose. I do believe he's struck with me. Well, I've no objection. I +don't see why I shouldn't forget JIM now and then--he's quite forgotten +me! (_Aloud._) They might have sent a decent carriage for us instead of +this ramshackle old summerhouse. We shall be _hours_ getting to the +house at this rate! + +_Und._ (_gallantly_). For my part, I care not how long we may be. I feel +so unspeakably content to be where I am. + +_Phill._ (_disdainfully_). In this mouldy, lumbering old concern? You +must be rather easily contented, then! + +_Und._ (_dreamily_). It travels only too swiftly. To me it is a +veritable enchanted car, drawn by a magic steed. + +_Phill._ I don't know whether he's magic--but I'm sure he's lame. And I +shouldn't call stuffiness _enchantment_ myself. + +_Und._ I'm not prepared to deny the stuffiness. But cannot you guess +what has transformed this vehicle for me--in spite of its undeniable +shortcomings--or must I speak more plainly still? + +_Phill._ Well, considering the shortness of our acquaintance, I must say +you've spoken quite plainly enough as it is! + +_Und._ I know I must seem unduly expansive, and wanting in reserve; and +yet that is not my true disposition. In general, I feel an almost +fastidious shrinking from strangers---- + +_Phill._ (_with a little laugh_). Really, I shouldn't have thought it! + +_Und._ Because, in the present case, I do not--I cannot--feel as if we +_were_ strangers. Some mysterious instinct led me, almost from the +first, to associate you with a certain Miss MAISIE MULL. + +_Phill._ Well, I wonder how you discovered _that_. Though you shouldn't +have said "Miss"--_Lady_ MAISIE MULL is the name. + +_Und._ (_to himself_). Lady MAISIE MULL! I attach no meaning to +titles--and yet nothing but rank could confer such perfect ease and +distinction. (_Aloud._) I should have said _Lady_ MAISIE MULL, +undoubtedly--forgive my ignorance. But at least I have divined you. Does +nothing tell you who and what _I_ may be? + +_Phill._ Oh, I think I can give a tolerable guess at what _you_ are. + +_Und._ You recognise the stamp of the Muse upon me, then? + +_Phill._ Well, I shouldn't have taken you for a _groom_ exactly. + +_Und._ (_with some chagrin_). You are really too flattering! + +_Phill._ Am I? Then it's your turn now. You might say you'd never have +taken me for a _lady's maid_! + +_Und._ I might--if I had any desire to make an unnecessary and insulting +remark. + +_Phill._ Insulting? Why, it's what I _am_! I'm maid to Lady MAISIE. I +thought your mysterious instinct told you all about it? + +_Und._ (_to himself--after the first shock_). A lady's maid! Gracious +Heaven! What have I been saying--or rather, what _haven't_ I? (_Aloud._) +To--to be sure it did. Of course, I quite understand _that_. (_To +himself_). Oh, confound it all, I wish we were at Wyvern! + +_Phill._ And, after all, you've never told me who _you_ are. Who _are_ +you? + +_Und._ (_to himself_). I must not humiliate this poor girl! (_Aloud._) +I? Oh--a very insignificant person, I assure you! (_To himself._) This +is an occasion in which deception is pardonable--even justifiable! + +_Phill._ Oh, I knew _that_. But you let out just now you had to do with +a Mews. You aren't a rough-rider, are you? + +_Und._ N--not _exactly_--not a _rough_-rider. (_To himself._) Never on a +horse in my life!--unless I count my _Pegasus_. (_Aloud._) But you are +right in supposing I am connected with a muse--in one sense. + +_Phill._ I _said_ so, didn't I? Don't you think it was rather clever of +me to spot you, when you're not a bit horsey-looking? + +_Und._ (_with elaborate irony_). Accept my compliments on a power of +penetration which is simply phenomenal! + +_Phill._ (_giving him a little push_). Oh, go along--it's all talk with +you--I don't believe you mean a word you say! + +_Und._ (_to himself_). She's becoming absolutely vulgar. (_Aloud._) I +don't--I _don't_; it's a manner I have; you mustn't attach any +importance to it--none whatever! + +_Phill._ What! Not to all those high-flown compliments? Do you mean to +tell me you're only a gay deceiver, then? + +_Und._ (_in horror_). Not a _deceiver_, no; and decidedly not _gay_. I +mean I _did_ mean the _compliments_, of course. (_To himself._) I +mustn't let her suspect anything, or she'll get talking about it; it +would be too horrible if this were to get round to Lady MAISIE or the +CULVERINS--so undignified; and it would ruin all my _prestige_! Ive only +to go on playing a part for a few minutes, and--maid or not--she's a +most engaging girl! + + [_He goes on playing the part, with the unexpected result of sending + Miss_ PHILLIPSON _into fits of uncontrollable laughter._ + + SCENE XI.--_The Back Entrance at Wyvern._ +_The Fly has just set down_ PHILLIPSON _and_ UNDERSHELL. + +_Tredwell_ (_receiving_ PHILLIPSON). Lady MAISIE'S maid, I presume? I'm +the butler here--Mr. TREDWELL. Your ladies arrived some time back. I'll +take you to the housekeeper, who'll show you their rooms, and where +yours is, and I hope you'll find everything comfortable. (_In an +undertone, indicating_ UNDERSHELL, _who is awaiting recognition in the +doorway._) Do you happen to know who it is _with_ you? + +_Phillipson_ (_in a whisper_). I can't quite make him out he's so +flighty in his talk. But he _says_ he belongs to some Mews or other. + +_Tred._ Oh, then _I_ know who he is. We expect him right enough. He's a +partner in a crack firm of Vets. We've sent for him special. I'd better +see to him, if you don't mind finding your own way to the Housekeeper's +Room, second door to the left, down that corridor. (PHILLIPSON +_departs_.) Good morning to you, Mr.--ah--Mr.----? + +_Undershell_ (_coming forward_). Mr. UNDERSHELL. Lady CULVERIN expects +me, I believe. + +Tred. Quite correct, Mr. UNDERSHELL, Sir. She do. Leastwise, I shouldn't +say myself she'd require to see you--well, not _before_ to-morrow +morning--but you won't mind _that_, I daresay. + +_Und._ (_choking_). Not mind that! Take me to her at once! + +_Tred._ Couldn't take it on myself, Sir, really. There's no particular +'urry. I'll let her ladyship know you're 'ere; and if she wants you, +she'll send for you; but, with a party staying in the 'ouse, and others +dining with us to-night, it ain't likely as she'll have time for you +till to-morrow. + +_Und._ Oh then, whenever her ladyship should find leisure to recollect +my existence, will you have the goodness to inform her that I have taken +the liberty of returning to town by the next train? + +_Tred._ Lor! Mr. UNDERSHELL, you aren't so pressed as all _that_, are +you? I know my lady wouldn't like you to go without seeing you +personally; no more wouldn't Sir RUPERT. And I understood you was coming +down for the Sunday! + +_Und._ (_furious_). So did _I_--but not to be treated like this! + +_Tred._ (_soothingly_). Why, _you_ know what ladies are. And you +couldn't see _Deerfoot_--not properly, to-night, either. + +_Und._ I have seen enough of this place already. I intend to go back by +the next train, I tell you. + +_Tred._ But there _ain't_ any next train up to-night--being a loop +line--not to mention that I've sent the fly away, and they can't spare +no one at the stables to drive you in. Come Sir, make the best of it. +I've had my horders to see that you're made comfortable, and Mrs. +POMFRET and me will expect the pleasure of your company at supper in the +'ousekeeper's room, 9.30 sharp. I'll send the Steward's Room Boy to show +you to your room. + + [_He goes, leaving_ UNDERSHELL _speechless._ + +_Und._ (_almost foaming_). The insolence of these cursed aristocrats! +Lady CULVERIN will see me when she has time, forsooth! I am to be +entertained in the servants' hall! _This_ is how our upper classes +honour poetry! I won't stay a single hour under their infernal roof. +I'll walk. But where _to_? And how about my luggage? + + [PHILLIPSON _returns._ + +_Phill._ Mr. TREDWELL says you want to go already! It _can't_ be true! +Without even waiting for supper? + +_Und._ (_gloomily_). Why should I wait for supper in this house? + +_Phill._ Well, _I_ shall be there; I don't know if _that_'s any +inducement. + + [_She looks down._ + +_Und._ (_to himself_). She is a singularly bewitching creature; and I'm +starving. Why _shouldn't_ I stay--if only to shame these CULVERINS? It +will be an experience--a study in life. I can always go afterwards. I +_will_ stay. (_Aloud._) You little know the sacrifice you ask of me, but +enough; I give way. We shall meet--(_with a gulp_)--in the housekeeper's +room! + +_Phill._ (_highly amused_). You _are_ a comical little man. You'll be +the death of me if you go on like that! + + [_She flits away._ + +_Und._ (_alone_). I feel disposed to be the death of _somebody!_ Oh, +Lady MAISIE MULL, to what a bathos have you lured your poet by your +artless flattery--a banquet with your aunt's butler! + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: ARTFUL. + +_Mamma (to Johnny, who has been given a Pear with Pills artfully +concealed in it)._ "WELL, DEAR, HAVE YOU FINISHED YOUR PEAR?" + +_Johnny._ "YES, MAMMA, ALL BUT THE SEEDS!"] + + * * * * * + + A BETTING MAN ON CRICKET. + + Cricket may be a _game_, but I can't call it sport, + For "the odds" at it aren't to be reckoned. + There the last's often first ere you come into port, + While the first is quite frequently second. + There was Surrey, you see, slap a-top o' the tree, + While Sussex was bang at the bottom. + But, thanks to the in-and-out form of the three, + You _never_ know when you have got 'em! + For when I backed Surrey with cheerful content. + Why Kent walloped Surrey, and Sussex whopped Kent!!! + + * * * * * + + OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +"There are, methinks," quoth the Baron, "two or three novels--one +certainly I can call to mind--wherein the interior domestic life of Jews +strict in the observance of their ancient and most touching religious +rites and ceremonies is more amply, as well as more minutely, described +than in Mr. FARJEON'S _Aaron the Jew_, which, be it my pleasing duty to +testify, is one of the best of this prolific author's works; a simple, +touching story, the interest being well kept up, as of course the +"interest" should be when dealing with the true history of one who +commenced as a pawnbroker." As to the rites above mentioned, no special +or intimate personal experience is shown to be possessed by the author, +who could very easily have obtained his materials from an interesting +work entitled, as I fancy, _The Jew at Home_, which has, the Baron +regrets to say, disappeared from its shelf in the Baron's library. +_Aaron_ is lively, is gay, is witty, a "_Jew d'esprit,_" and, like _Mr. +Peter Magnus_, he amuses a small circle of intimate friends; but his +story, and that of his sweet wife _Rachel_, as related by Mr. FARJEON, +will increase this friendly circle to a very considerable extent. The +Baron ventures to think that a good deal of the dialogue and of the +descriptive writing is unnecessary,--but Mr. FARJEON likes to give +everyone plenty for their money,--and, further, that the story would +have gained by the loss of what would have reduced the three volumes to +two. But altogether, the novel is "recommended" by the interested but +disinterested + + BARON DE BOOK-WORMS. + + * * * * * + + A VOTE OF THANKS. + + _By a Hard-up Journalist._ + + [A strange light has appeared on that part of the surface of + Mars not illuminated by the sun. The _Westminster Gazette_ + of August 2 asks the question, "Is Mars signalling to us?"] + + Oh, men of Mars, we thank you, your behaviour's really kind! + (Forgive us if you've lately slipped somewhat out of mind!) + For now the silly season's set in with all its "rot," + You once more raise the question whether you exist or not. + + No doubt the good old topics will trot out yet again:-- + "Is Flirting on the Increase?" "Is Marriage on the Wane?" + Big gooseberries as usual with sea-serpents will compete, + To help the British Press-man his columns to complete! + + But you, my merry Martians, have opportunely planned + A mild but new sensation for the holidays at hand; + Your planet's "terminator," it seems, is now ablaze-- + 'Tis, say the _cognoscenti_, a signal that you raise! + + What is it that you're shewing terrestrial telescopes? + Is't pills you're advertising, or booming patent soaps? + How on earth can one discover what by this beacon's meant, + Whether news of Royal Weddings or Railway Strikes is sent? + + Alas! We haven't mastered the transplanetic code; + Your canals are yet a riddle, in vain your fires have glowed! + Still, do not let your efforts each August-tide abate-- + You furnish us with "copy," which maintains the Fourth Estate! + + * * * * * + +DISTINGUISHED VISITORS TO BOURNEMOUTH.--The Royal Bath Hotel announces +"Private Suites." Is "General Bitters" there also? + + *** + +EDUCATIONAL MOTTO. (_For Mr. Acland's use._)--"A place for every child, +and every child in its place." + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: ON A CERTAIN CONDESCENSION IN FOREIGNERS. + +_He._ "OH, YOU'RE FROM AMERICA, ARE YOU? PEOPLE OFTEN SAY TO ME, 'DON'T +YOU DISLIKE AMERICANS?' BUT I ALWAYS SAY 'I BELIEVE THERE ARE SOME VERY +NICE ONES AMONG THEM.'" + +_She._ "AH, I DARE SAY THERE _may_ BE TWO OR THREE NICE PEOPLE AMONGST +SIXTY MILLIONS!"] + + * * * * * + + "MOWING THEM DOWN!" + +["He (Sir WILLIAM HARCOURT) confessed that he was not +enamoured of these exceptional measures, and he resorted to +them with extreme regret. But if he were asked for a +justification of this motion, he would refer hon. gentlemen +to the Order Book of the House of Commons."] + + _Gunner_ HARCOURT, _loquitur_:-- + + Exceptional measures I hate, + I'd rather not always be battling; + The good old "Brown Bess" I prefer, I confess, + To a new (Parliamentary) Gatling. + To fight in the old-fashioned way, + Good temperedly, fairly, politely, + Is more to my mind; but these fellows, I find, + Will not _let_ a leader be knightly. + + If BALFOUR would only fight fair; + And impose that condition on BARTLEY; + If JOE would not ravage and shriek like a savage; + Did TOMMY talk less, and less tartly; + Were GOSCHEN less eager for scalps, + And kept a tight rein upon HANBURY; + Why then 'twere all right; we'd soon get through our fight + And hatred in love's flowing can bury. + + But no, they're like Soudanese blacks, + All fury and wild ugly rushes. + They shriek and they shock, and they hack and they hock, + Till chivalry shudders and blushes. + And so the machine-gun, I find, + Is just the one thing _will_ arrest 'em. + They've quite lost their head, but a fair _rain_ of lead + Played on them will try 'em and test 'em! + + _Whir-r-r-r!_ GEORGE! how it's mowing them down, + Their Advance-guard,--"Amendments" they dub them! + They swarm thick and thicker. The handle turns quicker! + 'Tis dreadful; but then we _must_ drub them. + As COURTNEY so gallantly said, + 'Tis "deplorable"; troubles _me_ sorely. + But if ARTHUR and JOE _won't_ make terms, + why, you know, + They really can't blame me and MORLEY! + + * * * * * + + AIRS RESUMPTIVE. + + II.--THE LINKS OF LOVE. + + My heart is like a driver-club, + That heaves the pellet hard and straight, + That carries every let and rub. + The whole performance really great; + My heart is like a bulger-head, + That whiffles on the wily tee,-- + Because my love distinctly said + She'd halve the round of life with me. + + My heart is also like a cleek, + Resembling most the mashie sort, + That spanks the object, so to speak, + Across the sandy bar to port; + And hers is like a putting green, + The haven where I boast to be, + For she assures me she is keen + To halve the round of life with me. + + Some wear their hearts upon their sleeve, + And others lose 'em on the links; + (This play of words is, by your leave, + Rather original, one thinks;) + Therefore my heart is like to some + Lost ball that nestles on the lea, + Because my love has kindly come + To halve the round of life with me. + + Raise me a bunker, if you can, + That beetles o'er a deadly ditch, + Where any but the bogey-man + Is practically bound to pitch; + Plant me beneath a hedge of thorn, + Or up a figurative tree, + What matter, when my love has sworn + To halve the round of life with me? + + * * * * * + + THE YELLOW AGE. + + The poets sing of a Golden Age. + Are we trying to start its fellow? + The _Yellow Aster_ is all the rage; + The Yellow Races in war engage; + The Primrose League wild war doth wage, + And the much-boomed Book in cover and page + Like the Age itself is--Yellow. + Well, Yellow's the tint of Gold--and Brass! + Of the Golden Calf--and the Golden Ass! + Of the "livery" face and the faded leaf, + But 'tis tedious, very, beyond belief. + I own I am little inclined to smile + On the colour of age, decay, and bile + And mustard, and _Othello_; + I'm tired, I own, of it's very look, + And I feel compelled to cock a snook + At the Yellow Primrose, the Yellow Book. + Though an Age indeed + That runs to seed + Is like to run to Yellow! + + [Illustration: "MOWING THEM DOWN!" + + GUNNER H--RC--RT. "NOT MANY OF 'EM LEFT NOW!"] + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: EARLY LOGIC. + +_Little Girl (of inquiring mind, to Stud Groom, looking at a Mare in +field with Foal)._ "HOW OLD IS THAT LITTLE HORSE?" + +_Stud Groom._ "WELL, MISSY, HE'S ONLY FIVE DAYS OLD." + +_Little Girl (to her Governess)._ "OH, NANA, DID _I_ RUN ABOUT THE +FIELDS WHEN I WAS FIVE DAYS OLD?"] + + * * * * * + + A LITTLE HOLIDAY. + +_Sunday._--How exhausting is London life! Up late, night and morning. +Club. See summer number of illustrated paper. Pictures of pretty girls, +reclining in punts, hammocks, or deck-chairs, doing nothing, men helping +them. True holiday for jaded Londoner. Perhaps better without pretty +girls. Even more reposeful. Must get right away. Secluded place. No +pretty girls. That tiny inn JONES told me about. Miles from everywhere. + +_Monday._--At Tiny Inn. Fine afternoon. Feel quite happy. With summer +clothes, summer numbers, flannels, straw hat, and other suitable things. +Seven miles from station. Beautifully clean. Perfectly quiet. Weather +changing. Raining. Landlord says, "Soon over." Eggs and bacon for +supper. To bed early. + +_Tuesday._--Wake at five. Up at six to enjoy morning air. Eggs and bacon +for breakfast. Still raining. Landlord says, "Very remarkable, since in +this place it never rains." Somehow the clouds always pass over +neighbouring village, following the course of the river, the ridge of +the hills, or something. Have noticed in all country places that the +clouds always do this, except when _I_ am there. Impossible to lounge +under a tree in this rain. Stop indoors, smoke, and read summer numbers. +Eggs and bacon for lunch. Rain going on steadily. Put on flannels, go +out. Drenched. Eggs and bacon for dinner. Landlord says they hope to +give me some meat to-morrow. Butcher calls once a week apparently. Wet +evening. Somewhat tired of sitting on horsehair sofa with damaged +springs. Know all the summer numbers by heart. To bed at ten. + +_Wednesday._--Wake at four. Toss about till six. Then up. Still raining. +Breakfast,--eggs and bacon. Landlord says if I cross two fields I shall +find the river and a punt. Thanks. Will wait till rain stops. He says it +is sure to stop soon. Ask him if one can get a London paper. Says they +sometimes have one at the stationer's, four miles off, but generally +only when ordered. Lends me a local paper of last week. Reduced to +summer numbers again. Begin to wish there were some pretty girls here, +after all. They might enliven things. After lunch,--of eggs and +bacon,--resolve to go out. Ask landlord where one can go. Don't like to +ask "if any girls about anywhere?" Accidentally landlord _does_ happen +to mention Farmer MUGGERIDGE'S daughters. I pretend indifference, but +inquire as to direction of MUGGERIDGE'S farm. Lose my way. Wander +helplessly. Steady downpour. Return, drenched. Butcher has not been. +Eggs and bacon for dinner. Smoke, and read advertisements--plenty of +them--in summer numbers. To bed at nine. + +_Thursday._--Wake at three. Toss about till seven. Then breakfast--usual +dish. Rain, not quite so heavy. With fuller directions as to road, start +hopefully for MUGGERIDGE'S farm. Arrive there. Heavy rain again. +MUGGERIDGE loafing about. Country people always loaf about in rain. They +seem to enjoy it. Chat with him. He asks me in to have some cider. +Accept. Chance of seeing charming daughters. They enter! Now!... Oh! +awful!... Cider acid. Obliged to drink it. Hurry back. Lunch. Usual +dish. Still raining. Call in landlord, and ask eagerly about trains to +London. The next is to-morrow morning, at 8.20. Give way to despair. +Refuse eggs and bacon for dinner. Bed eight. + +_Friday._--Leave in landlord's cart at seven, after usual breakfast. +Still raining steadily. Gave landlord all those summer numbers to amuse +future weather-bound visitors with imaginary pictures of rural +happiness. London once more! Hurrah! Dinner--_not_ eggs and bacon. +Theatre. Smoke at club. Avoid JONES. Tell SMITH I know the sweetest +place for country peace and seclusion. He writes down the address +eagerly. Those summer numbers will amuse him. To bed--any time! + + * * * * * + +AT THE WINDOW.--Judging from the tone of JAMES PAYN'S delightful +_Note-Book_ this week, one fears that charming and cheery gossiper has +been "laid up," has been compelled to take his "Notes" from a sick-couch +at a window--has, in fact, for the time, become a window-PAYN! Well, a +window is no bad coign of vantage for an observant penman. "The World +from a Window" would make an excellent book, and JAMES PAYN would be the +very man to write it. Let Mr. PAYN think of it. _Mr. Punch's_ present +purpose, however, is to wish his good friend and favourite writer speedy +emancipation from the bonds of sickness and compulsory window-watching. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: PREHISTORIC PEEPS. + +THE NAVAL MANOEUVRES AFFORDED MUCH PLEASURABLE EXCITEMENT TO THOSE +CONCERNED!] + + * * * * * + + SATURDAY POPS. + + NEW SERIES. + +"RUSTICUS," who is clearly "RUSTICUS EXPECTANS," was moved to write to +the _Chronicle_ on July 31st, to say that, though not a rich man, he +lives in a pretty Surrey village within an eightpenny return railway +fare of the City; and has a fairly large and quiet garden, with field, +&c. "The trees are all at their finest," he proceeds, "the flowers +looking very gay and walking in the garden." Capital fun this, when +flowers actually walk about. But no! it's "walking in the garden to-day +the thought came to me," so it's a walking thought, comparable, +doubtless, to a running commentary. Anyhow. "RUSTICUS" is moved--by the +thought of a "tired working-man or band of City workers" who would find +in his garden pleasure on a quiet Saturday afternoon--to make an offer. +Here are his words:-- + + "I am a bachelor, therefore I say, men, you are welcome to + my very simple hospitality if it is of any use to you. I can + do with a limited number every or any Saturday. Any creed or + class is welcome. All I stipulate for is honest souls. Come + and smoke and talk under the trees and spend a quiet time + away from the town. I simply condition--no publicity or + fuss, the giving and acceptance of the invitation quietly, + honestly, brother to brother. Would you, Sir, forward any + letters on to me?" + +This is of course an example which will be followed, and _Mr. Punch_ has +already had the following letter (amongst others), which he now prints +with pleasure. + +SIR,--Owing to the Death Duties, I am no longer a rich man, but I have a +little house in Piccadilly, not more than a twopenny 'bus ride from +Charing Cross. It has occurred to me that some hungry working-man might +like to drop in to a quiet little dinner some night. I am a Duke, +therefore I say, comrades in depression, you are welcome to my roof, if +it's of any use to you. I can dine a hundred or so of you any or every +night. All I stipulate for is that there shall be no speaking, for +speaking bores me horribly. + + D-V-NSH-RE. + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: A TOWN MOUSE. + +_Jones._ "WELL, MY LITTLE MAN, WHAT ARE _you_ THINKING ABOUT?" + +_London Boy (who has never been out of Whitechapel before)._ "I'M +THINKIN' IT'S TIME YER MOTHER PUT YER INTO _Trousers_!"] + + * * * * * + + LOWERED! + + Rates, rates, rates, + Of an exigent L. C. C.! + And I'm glad they can't hear the language + We utter so frequentlee! + + O well for the excellent Chairman + For trying to reduce them a bit! + O well for those Councillors wary + Who on costly "improvements" sit! + + And "demand-notes" still go on, + And our pockets are steadily bled; + But "O (we oft sigh) for a tenpenny rate, + And the sins of a 'Board' that is dead!" + + Rates, rates, rates! + Thanks, men of the L. C. C.! + We trust the farthing now taken off + Will never go back to ye! + + * * * * * + + "AFTER THE HEALTH CONGRESS IS OVER." + + SCENE--_A Ball Room at the Mansion House._ + +_He. (resting)._ Good floor, isn't it? + +_She._ Quite. But tell me, have you been attending the Congress? + +_He._ Of course; that is why I received an invitation to-night. + +_She._ And you found the lectures and all that most interesting? + +_He._ Yes, very; and then there were the Opera and the theatres in the +evening. + +_She._ But do let us talk about the Congress. Did you not discuss +sanitation? + +_He._ Discussed it very much indeed. So fortunate too that we had the +meeting before everybody had left town. + +_She._ Yes. But did you not inquire into microbes and all that? + +_He._ Certainly; had a lot of talk about them, and finished them all up +just in time not to interfere with Goodwood. + +_She._ And I suppose you found out the way to keep everyone in perfect +health? + +_He._ That was the idea, and yet we floored Lords and the Oval. + +_She._ But oughtn't every town to be in a satisfactory condition? + +_He._ Why, yes. But that depends upon the season of the year. Of course, +some places are deadly dull when nothing's going on from a social point +of view. + +_She._ I mean from a health point of view--oughtn't everything nowadays +to be simply excellent? + +_He._ Yes, of course. That's the modern theory. + +_She._ And yet, according to the papers, London is full of fever and +insanity. + +_He._ I daresay; the Press men generally get their figures right. + +_She._ But if, theoretically, everything is right, why should most +things be practically wrong? + +_He._ You must really ask me another. + +_She._ But you are strong upon health, are you not? + +_He._ Very--in the lecture-room. And now, if you are rested, we will +have another turn. + + [_Exeunt dancing._ + + * * * * * + + ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + + EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. + +_House of Commons, Monday, July 30._--Having settled Budget Bill, and, +incidentally, brought CHANCELLOR OF EXCHEQUER to Death's Door by +observations on Death Duties, TOMMY BOWLES has time to turn his +attention to another social question. Looks as if he were going to take +the Bicycle Fiend by the scruff of the neck. Herein he has opportunity +of deepening and enlarging his hold on affection and esteem of British +public. Bicycle Fiend has increased, is increasing, and, at least, ought +to be registered. He comes upon the hapless rider or pedestrian in quiet +country lanes, brushing him aside as if the earth were the Fiend's and +all the highways thereof. Bad enough in the country, where there is room +to get out of the way. In crowded streets of metropolis, Fiend pounces +round unsuspected corners upon elderly gentlemen, scattering streams of +peaceful passengers at peremptory sound of fearsome bell. + +TOMMY B. got his eye on him. Not without suspicion that this new +departure has something to do with old, now closed, campaign against the +Budget. TOMMY warned the SQUIRE whilst in Committee that his Death +Duties would not reap the full harvest anticipated. Every little helps. +What with actual concussions and sudden frights, Bicycle Fiend leads in +course of financial year to considerable succession of property changing +on sudden death, with concurrent toll paid to Treasury. If the Bicycle +Fiend can only be placed on same footing as the common carrier, or the +harried hansom-cab driver, the death-rate would appreciably decrease, +and with it the flow of legacy and succession duties. TOMMY may or may +not look thus far ahead. No matter, if he only succeeds in restraining a +nuisance that is a disgrace to a civilised community. + +The Member for SARK tells me he has a Short Way with the B. F., which +makes him to considerable extent indifferent to slower action of HOME +SECRETARY, who has evidently never had his shins barked by this agency. +SARK says when he takes his walks abroad he usually carries a stick or +umbrella. When, crossing a road, he hears the tinkle of the Fiend's +bell, insolently and imperatively ordering him out of the way on pain +of being run over, he, instead of flying for his life, as is the use of +the ordinary citizen, carelessly throws stick or umbrella lance-wise +across hollow of right or left arm, according as the Fiend approaches +from one direction or the other. Thus armed he leisurely pursues his +way. If the Fiend continues on the track, he will run with face or chest +on to the point of the umbrella. As that would be inconvenient to him, +he slows up or goes on another tack, and when he arrives home writes a +letter to the _Bicycling Blister_, indignantly denouncing a street +passenger who wouldn't get out of his way. + +_Business done._--Vote on Account through Committee. + +_Tuesday._--"PRINCE ARTHUR," said SARK, looking across at the Front +Opposition Bench whilst COURTNEY was speaking, "succeeds in hiding all +traces of storm behind a smiling countenance. JOSEPH, on the contrary, +more ingenuous, less acute in practice of worldly wiles, enables one to +realise, even at this long distance of time, what BALAK, the son of +ZIPPOR, King of Moab, looked like when he stood in the high places of +Baal, and listened to BALAAM'S remarks on the motion for the +time-closure to be applied to the Children of Israel, who had pitched +their tents in the plains of Moab beyond the Jordan at Jericho, and +declined to budge at the bidding of BALAK." + +Appearance of Parliamentary BALAAM on scene dramatically effective. +Crowded House worked up to highest pitch of excitement by swift +encounter, in which JOHN MORLEY had followed PRINCE ARTHUR, and JOSEPH, +springing in from behind, had clouted the CHIEF SECRETARY on the head. +The SQUIRE had moved time-closure on Evicted Tenants Bill in speech the +studied tameness and provoking brevity of which had riled Opposition +much more than if he had belaboured them with Harcourtian phrase. SAGE +OF QUEEN ANNE'S GATE said a few words, preparatory to packing up for +holiday; then COURTNEY rose from JOSEPH'S side to continue debate. +Members, taking it for granted that he, possibly with some reservations +in favour of Eviction Bill whose second reading he had supported, was +about to say ditto to JOSEPH on question of Closure, began to move +towards door. Arrested by COURTNEY'S solemn tone, and his expression of +regret, evidently unfeigned, at deplorable condition in which the House +found itself. "Woe to those through whom offences come!" cried COURTNEY +in voice which, as he said, was of one crying in the wilderness, and +seemed for its perfect effect to lack only hirsute garb, stave and +honeypot. "Through whom did the offence come? Surely," continued the +Prophet, bending shaggy eyebrows upon the bench where the Busy B's hive, +"the offence lies with those Members who, disregarding the true uses, +functions, duties, and high mission of the House, abuse their powers, +intent to destroy possibility of the right conduct of public business." + +Not Ministers, then, with the SQUIRE at their head, responsible for the +deadlock, as PRINCE ARTHUR had painted the scene, and as JOSEPH had +touched it up with stronger colour. It was the Busy Bees. They and "a +junta of irresponsible landlords enforcing their will upon those who +ought to resist them." + +O BALAAM! BALAAM! M.P. for Bodmin. Was it for this JOSEPH led thee into +the field of Zophim, to the top of Pisgah? For this did PRINCE ARTHUR +build seven altars, and offer up the SQUIRE OF MALWOOD on every one of +them? Long time since such a scene was wrought in the House. SAUNDERSON +pished and pshawed, and looked anxiously round for LOGAN. BARTLEY +blushed; HANBURY was hushed; and a tear trickled down the pale cheek of +TOMMY BOWLES--Cap'en no longer, disrated and denounced. + +_Business done._--Time-Closure resolution carried. + +_Thursday._--Such larks! Yesterday time-closure came into operation in +connection with Evicted Tenants Bill. Arranged that if debate on Clause +I not finished by eleven o'clock to-night, all Amendments remaining on +paper shall be submitted to vote without further debate. Obstruction +scotched; wriggles helplessly, like eel in muddy depths of river, +smitten by the spear. + +"Shan't play," whimper PRINCE ARTHUR and JOSEPH, mingling their tears at +this fresh evidence of tyranny, this last illustration of man's +inhumanity to man. + +Strike ordered in Unionist lines. Men throw down the pick; hand in the +shovel and the hoe; put on their coats; hang about corners of Lobby in +approved strike fashion. If HANBURY and the Blameless BARTLEY could only +be induced to stick short clay pipe in side of mouth (bowl downwards), +fasten a leather strap outside their trousers just below the knee, and +drink four-half out of pewters at bar in the Lobby, scene would be +complete. + +Strike only partial. Fully one half the men refuse to go out; stand by +the masters, turning deaf ear to blandishments and threats of pickets +outside. Strange thing is that, working at half strength, output more +than doubled. Time-closure, with all hands at work, proposed to complete +Committee by eleven o'clock next Tuesday night. At ten minutes past six +this afternoon the whole thing through. Not hurried either. Thoroughly +debated, divided on, and Bill, in more than one instance, amended. + +"Fact is," said the SQUIRE, beaming with chastened delight at turn +events taken, "we are over-manned just as London is over-cabbed. Must +see if something can't be done to reduce numbers by refusing licenses +for fresh elections when vacancies occur." + +_Business done._--Evicted Tenants Bill through Committee. Building +Societies Bill far advanced. + + [Illustration: THE CARSON BANSHEE. + +_John Morley._ "You see it's all right, my little man. I told you you +needn't be frightened of _him_. It was only his vapour. We're through +the Commons now! Come along, and I'll leave you at the door of the +Lords'. See how you get on there!"] + +_Friday._--Back in the mud again. Strike operative only when Evicted +Tenants Bill under consideration. That standing over now for Report +Stage. Meanwhile take up again Equalisation of Rates Bill. Men on strike +stream in, tired of "playing." Wonderful their eagerness to get to work +again, their keen delight in sound of their own voices, so strangely +intermitted. BARTLEY, KIMBER, FISHER, JOKIM, and the WOOLWICH INFANT all +here again, with WEBSTER (of St. Pancras) wobbling all over the place, +like a hen that has laid an egg somewhere and can't for the life of her +just at the minute think where she left it. + +_Business done._--Hardly any. As BARTLEY says, "must make up for lost +time when yesterday and day before work advanced by leaps and bounds." + + * * * * * + +CRYPTOGRAMMATIST WANTED.--After a plain matter-of-fact paragraph in the +_Daily Telegraph_, stating that "Lord GREVILLE leaves town to-day for +Harrogate" (to undergo the "tonic sul-phur" cure, of course, _i.e._, of +water-course), there appeared this mysterious announcement, "Lord ROWTON +_leaves London to-day for some weeks._" Now where is "some weeks"? Of +course as his Lordship has quitted town for "some weeks," he evidently +prefers "some weeks," wherever it is, to London. And that is all we know +at present. Strange disappearance. Weird. + + *** + +THE COSTER KNIGHT.--There are pictures on almost all the hoardings, in +the suburbs especially, of the celebrated Mr. ALBERT CHEVALIER. This +chevalier "_sans peur et sans reproche_" is so busy a man that in the +best sense of the term he may well be considered as _the_ type of an +honest "_Chevalier d'Industrie_." + + *** + +QUERY.--"The Lancashire Rubber Company"--is this something new in the +way of Massage? or is it a Company got up for the express purpose of +supplying Society with Whist-players? + + *** + +THE LATEST MADE OF HONOUR AT RICHMOND.--SIR JAMES W. SZLUMPER, Knight. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume +107, August 11, 1894, by Various + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42546 *** |