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diff --git a/43845-0.txt b/43845-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0607b8a --- /dev/null +++ b/43845-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1392 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43845 *** + +PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. + +VOL. 107. + +SEPTEMBER 1, 1894. + + + + +[Illustration: "CONTRIBUTIONS THANKFULLY RECEIVED." + +_Lardy-Dardy Swell (who is uncertain as to the age of Ingénue he is +addressing)._ "YOU'RE GOING TO GIVE A BALL. WILL YOU PERMIT ME TO SEND +YOU A BOUQUET? AND IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE YOU WOULD LIKE?" + +_Ingénue._ "O, THANKS! THE BOUQUET WOULD BE _DELIGHTFUL_! +AND"--(_hesitating, then after some consideration_)--"I'M SURE MAMMA +WOULD LIKE THE ICES AND SPONGE CAKES!"] + + * * * * * + +THE TALE OF TWO TELEGRAMS. + +ANOTHER DOLLY DIALOGUE. + +(_By St. Anthony Hope Carter._) + +The redeeming feature of the morning batch of letters was a short note +from Lady MICKLEHAM. Her ladyship (and ARCHIE) had come back to town, +and the note was to say that I might call, in fact that I _was_ to call, +that afternoon. It so happened that I had two engagements, which seemed +to make that impossible, but I spent a shilling in telegrams, and at +4.30 (the hour DOLLY had named) was duly ringing at the Mickleham town +mansion. + +"I'm delighted you were able to come," was DOLLY'S greeting. + +"I wasn't able," I said; "but I've no doubt that what I said in the two +telegrams which brought me here will be put down to your account." + +"No one expects truth in a telegram. The Post-Office people themselves +wouldn't like it." + +DOLLY was certainly looking at her very best. Her dimples (everybody has +heard of DOLLY'S Dimples--or is it DOLLY DIMPLE; but after all it +doesn't matter) were as delightful as ever. I was just hesitating as to +my next move in the Dialogue, which I badly wanted, for I had promised +my editor one by the middle of next week. The choice lay between the +dimples and a remark that life was, after all, only one prolonged +telegram. Just at that moment I noticed for the first time that we were +not alone. + +Now that was distinctly exasperating, and an unwarrantable +breach of an implied contract. + +"Two's company," I said, in a tone of voice that was meant to +indicate something of what I felt. + +"So's three," said DOLLY, laughing, "if the third doesn't count." + +"_Quod est demonstrandum._" + +"Well, it's like this. I observed that you've already published +twenty or so 'Dolly Dialogues.'" (The dimples at this period were +absolutely bewitching, but I controlled myself.) "So it occurred to +me that it was my turn to earn an honest penny. Allow me to +introduce you. Mr. BROWN, Mr. CARTER--Mr. CARTER, Mr. BROWN." + +I murmured that any friend of Lady MICKLEHAM'S was a friend of mine, +whereat Mr. BROWN smiled affably and handed me his card, from which I +gathered that he was a shorthand writer at some address in Chancery +Lane. Then I understood it all. I had exploited DOLLY. DOLLY was now +engaged in the process of exploiting me. + +"I hope," I observed rather icily, "that you will choose a respectable +paper." + +"You don't mean that." + +"Perhaps not. But if we are to have a Dialogue, perhaps we might begin. +I have an engagement at six." + +"Telegraph, and put the contents down to my account." + +I noticed now that DOLLY had a pile of papers on her table, and that she +was playing with a blue pencil. + +"Yes, Lady MICKLEHAM," I said, in the provisional way in which judges +indicate to counsel that they are ready to proceed. + +"Well, I've been reading some of the Press Notices of the Dialogues, Mr. +CARTER." + +I trembled. I remembered some of the things that had been said about +DOLLY and myself, which hardly lent themselves, it appeared to me, to +this third party procedure. + +"I thought," pursued DOLLY, "we might spend the time in discussing the +critics." + +"I shall be delighted, if in doing that we shall dismiss the reporter." + +"Have you seen this? It's from a Scotch paper--Scottish? you +suggest--well, Scottish. 'The sketches are both lively and elegant, and +their lightness is just what people want in the warm weather.'" + +"It's a satisfaction to think that even our little breezes are a source +of cool comfort to our fellow-creatures." + +"Here's another criticism. 'It's a book which tempts the reader----'" + +"It must have been something you said." + +"'----a book which tempts the reader to peruse from end to end when once +he picks it up.'" + +"'Read at a Sitting: A Study in Colour.'" + +"Please, Mr. BROWN, don't take that down." + +"Thank you, Lady MICKLEHAM," said I. "_Litera scripta manet._" + +"You are not the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Mr. CARTER, and you must +break yourself of the habit." + +"The next cutting?" + +"The next says, 'For Mr. CARTER, the hero or reporter----'" + +"It's a calumny. I don't know a single shorthand symbol." + +"Let me go on. 'Reporter of these polite conversations, we confess we +have no particular liking.'" + +"If you assure me you did not write this yourself, Lady MICKLEHAM, I +care not who did." + +"That, Mr. BROWN," said DOLLY, in a most becoming frown, +"must _on no account_ go down." + +"When you have finished intimidating the Press, perhaps you +will finish the extract." + +"'His cynicism,'" she read, "'is too strained to commend him to +ordinary mortals----'" + +"No one would ever accuse you of being in that category." + +"'----but his wit is undeniable, and his impudence delicious.' +Well, Mr. CARTER?" + +"I should like the extract concluded." I knew the next sentence +commenced--"As for DOLLY, Lady MICKLEHAM, she outdoes all the +revolted daughters of feminine fiction." + +Then an annoying thing happened. ARCHIE'S voice was heard, +saying, "DOLLY, haven't you finished that Dialogue yet? We +ought to dress for dinner. It'll take us an hour to drive there." + +So it had been all arranged, and ARCHIE knew for what I had been +summoned. + +Yet there are compensations. DOLLY sent the Dialogue to the only +paper which I happen to edit. I regretfully declined it. But the +fact that she sent it may possibly explain why I have found it so +easy to give this account of what happened on that afternoon when +I sent the two telegrams. + + * * * * * + +The Cry of Chaos. + + "_Vive l'Anarchie?_"--Fools! Chaos shrieks in that cry! + _Did_ Anarchy live soon would Anarchists die. + One truth lights all history, well understood,-- + Disorder--like Saturn--devours its own brood. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: UNEARNED INCREMENT. + +_Experienced Jock (during preliminary canter, to Stable-boy, who has +been put up to make the running for him)._ "NOW, YOUNG 'UN, AS SOON AS +WE'RE OFF, YOU GO TO WORK AND MAKE THE PACE A HOT 'UN!" + +_Stable-boy (Irish)._ "BEGORRA THIN OI'M THINKIN' IT'S MESELF _ROIDES_ +THE RACE, AND YOU POCKETS ALL THE CREDIT O' WINNIN'!"] + + * * * * * + +"ROOM FOR A BIG ONE!" + + ["Mr. HERBERT GLADSTONE, as First Commissioner of Works, informed + the house that 'no series of historical personages could be complete + without the inclusion of CROMWELL,' and though he had no sum at his + disposal for defraying the cost of a statue this year, Sir WILLIAM + HARCOURT, as Chancellor of the Exchequer, had promised to make the + necessary provision in the estimates for next year."--_Spectator._] + + Room for the Regicide amongst our Kings? + Horrible thought, to set some bosoms fluttering! + The whirligig of time does bring some things + To set the very Muse of History muttering. + Well may the brewer's son, uncouth and rude, + Murmur--in scorn--"I hope I don't intrude!" + + Room, between CHARLES the fair and unveracious,-- + Martyr and liar, made comely by VANDYKE,-- + And CHARLES the hireling, callous and salacious? + Strange for the sturdy Huntingdonian tyke + To stand between Court spaniel and sleek hound! + Surely that whirligig hath run full round! + + Exhumed, cast out!--among our Kings set high! + (Which were the true dishonour NOLL might question.) + The sleek false STUARTS well might shrug and sigh Make room--for + _him_? + A monstrous, mad suggestion! O Right + Divine, most picturesque quaint craze, How art thou fallen upon evil + days! + + What will White Rose fanatics say to this? + Stuartomaniacs will ye not come wailing; + Or fill these aisles with one gregarious hiss + Of angry scorn, one howl of bitter railing? + To think that CHARLES the trickster, CHARLES the droll, + Should thus be hob-a-nobbed by red-nosed NOLL! + + Methinks I hear the black-a-vised one sneer "Ods bobs, + Sire, this is what I've long expected! + If they had _him_, and not his statue, here + Some other 'baubles' might be soon ejected. + Dark STRAFFORD--I mean SALISBURY--_might_ loose + More than his Veto, did he play the goose. + + "He'd find perchance that Huntingdon was stronger + Than Leeds with all its Programmes. + NOLL might vow That Measure-murder should go on no longer; + And that Obstruction he would check and cow. + Which would disturb MACALLUM MORE'S composure; + The Axe is yet more summary than the Closure! + + "As for the Commons--both with the Rad 'Rump' + And Tory 'Tail' alike he might deal tartly. + He'd have small mercy upon prig or pump; + I wonder what he'd think of B-WL-S and B-RTL-Y? + Depend upon it, NOLL would purge the place + Of much beside Sir HARRY and the Mace." + + Your Majesties make room there--for a Man! + Yes, after several centuries of waiting, + It seems that Smug Officialism's plan + A change from the next Session may be dating. + You tell us, genial HERBERT GLADSTONE, that you + _May_ find the funds, next year, for CROMWELL'S Statue! + + Room for a Big One! Well the STUART pair + May gaze on that stout shape as on a spectre. + Subject for England's sculptors it is rare + To find like that of England's Great Protector; + And he with bigot folly is imbued, + Who deems that CROMWELL'S Statute _can_ intrude! + +[Illustration: "ROOM FOR A BIG ONE!" + +_Cromwell._ "NOW THEN, YOUR MAJESTIES, I HOPE I DON'T INTRUDE!"] + + * * * * * + +"OH, YOU WICKED STORY!" + +(_Cry of the Cockney Street Child._) + +Speaking of our Neo-Neurotic and "Personal" Novelists, JAMES PAYN says: +"None of the authors of these works are storytellers." No, not in his +own honest, wholesome, stirring sense, certainly. But, like other +naughty--and nasty-minded--children, they "tell stories" in their own +way; "great big stories," too, and "tales out of school" into the +bargain. Having, like the Needy Knife-grinder, no story (in the true +sense) to tell, they tell--well, let us say, tara-diddles! Truth is +stranger than even _their_ fiction, but it is not always so "smart" or +so "risky" as a loose, long-winded, flippant, cynical and personal +literary "lie which is half a truth," in three sloppy, slangy, but +"smart"--oh, yes, decidedly "smart"--volumes! + + * * * * * + +LYRE AND LANCET. + +(_A Story in Scenes._) + +PART IX.--THE MAUVAIS QUART D'HEURE. + +SCENE XVI.--_The Chinese Drawing Room at Wyvern._ + +TIME--7.50. Lady CULVERIN _is alone, glancing over a written list._ + +_Lady Cantire (entering)._ Down already, ALBINIA? I _thought_ if I made +haste I should get a quiet chat with you before anybody else came in. +What is that paper? Oh, the list of couples for RUPERT. May I see? (_As_ +Lady CULVERIN _surrenders it_.) My dear, you're _not_ going to inflict +that mincing little PILLINER boy on poor MAISIE! That really _won't do_. +At least let her have somebody she's used to. Why not Captain +THICKNESSE? He's an old friend, and she's not seen him for months. I +must alter that, if you've no objection. (_She does._) And then you've +given my poor Poet to that SPELWANE girl! Now, _why_? + +_Lady Culverin._ I thought she wouldn't mind putting up with him just +for one evening. + +_Lady Cant._ Wouldn't _mind_! Putting up with him! And is that how you +speak of a celebrity when you are so fortunate as to have one to +entertain? _Really_, ALBINIA! + +_Lady Culv._ But, my dear ROHESIA, you must allow that, whatever his +talents may be, he is not--well, not _quite_ one of Us. Now, _is_ he? + +_Lady Cant._ (_blandly_). My dear, I never heard he had any connection +with the manufacture of chemical manures, in which your worthy Papa so +greatly distinguished himself--if _that_ is what you mean. + +_Lady Culv._ (_with some increase of colour_). That is _not_ what I +meant, ROHESIA--as you know perfectly well. And I do say that this Mr. +SPURRELL'S manner is most objectionable; when he's not obsequious, he's +horribly familiar! + +_Lady Cant._ (_sharply_). I have not observed it. He strikes me as well +enough--for that class of person. And it is intellect, soul, all that +kind of thing that _I_ value. I look _below_ the surface, and I find a +great deal that is very original and charming in this young man. And +surely, my dear, if I find myself able to associate with him, _you_ need +not be so fastidious! I consider him my _protégé_, and I won't have him +slighted. He is far too good for VIVIEN SPELWANE! + +_Lady Culv._ (_with just a suspicion of malice_). Perhaps, ROHESIA, you +would like him to take _you_ in? + +_Lady Cant._ That, of course, is quite out of the question. I see you +have given me the Bishop--he's a poor, dry stick of a man--never forgets +he was the Headmaster of Swisham--but he's always glad to meet _me_. I +freshen him up so. + +_Lady Culv._ I really don't know whom I _can_ give Mr. SPURRELL. There's +RHODA COKAYNE, but she's not poetical, and she'll get on much better +with ARCHIE BEARPARK. Oh, I forgot Mrs. BROOKE-CHATTERIS--she's sure to +_talk_, at all events. + +_Lady Cant._ (_as she corrects the list_). A lively, agreeable +woman--she'll amuse him. _Now_ you can give RUPERT the list. + + [Sir RUPERT _and various members of the house-party appear one by + one;_ Lord _and_ Lady LULLINGTON, _the_ Bishop of BIRCHESTER _and_ + Mrs. RODNEY, _and_ Mr. and Mrs. EARWAKER, _and_ Mr. SHORTHORN _are + announced at intervals; salutations, recognitions, and commonplaces + are exchanged_. + +_Lady Cant._ (_later--to the_ Bishop, _genially_). Ah, my dear Dr. +RODNEY, you and I haven't met since we had our great battle about--now, +was it the necessity of throwing open the Public Schools to the lower +classes--for whom of course they were originally _intended_--or was it +the failure of the Church to reach the Working Man? I really forget. + +_The Bishop_ (_who has a holy horror of the_ Countess). I--ah--fear +I cannot charge my memory so precisely, my dear Lady CANTIRE. +We--ah--differ unfortunately on so many subjects. I trust, however, we +may--ah--agree to suspend hostilities on this occasion? + +_Lady Cant._ (_with even more bonhomie_). Don't be too sure of _that_, +Bishop. I've several crows to pluck with you, and we are to go in to +dinner together, you know! + +_The Bishop._ Indeed? I had no conception that such a pleasure was in +store for me! (_To himself._) This must be the penance for breaking my +rule of never dining out on Saturday! Severe--but merited! + +_Lady Cant._ I wonder, Bishop, if you have seen this wonderful volume of +poetry that everyone is talking about--_Andromeda_? + +_The Bishop_ (_conscientiously_). I chanced only this morning, by way of +momentary relaxation, to take up a journal containing a notice of that +work, with copious extracts. The impression left on my mind +was--ah--unfavourable; a certain talent, no doubt, some felicity of +expression, but a noticeable lack of the--ah--reticence, the discipline, +the--the scholarly touch which a training at one of our great Public +Schools (I forbear to particularise), and at a University, can alone +impart. I was also pained to observe a crude discontent with the +existing Social System--a system which, if not absolutely perfect, +cannot be upset or even modified without the gravest danger. But I was +still more distressed to note in several passages a decided taint of the +morbid sensuousness which renders so much of our modern literature +sickly and unwholesome. + +_Lady Cant._ All prejudice, my dear Bishop; why, you haven't even _read_ +the book! However, the author is staying here now, and I feel convinced +that if you only knew him, you'd alter your opinion. Such an unassuming, +inoffensive creature! There, he's just come in. I'll call him over +here.... Goodness, why does he shuffle along in that way! + +_Spurrell_ (_meeting_ Sir RUPERT). Hope I've kept nobody waiting for +_me_, Sir RUPERT. (_Confidentially._) I'd rather a job to get these +things on; but they're really a wonderful fit, considering! + + [_He passes on, leaving his host speechless._ + +_Lady Cant._ That's right, Mr. SPURRELL. Come here, and let me present +you to the Bishop of BIRCHESTER. The Bishop has just been telling me he +considers your _Andromeda_ sickly, or unhealthy, or something. I'm sure +you'll be able to convince him it's nothing of the sort. + + [_She leaves him with the_ Bishop, _who is visibly annoyed._ + +_Spurr._ (_to himself, overawed_). Oh, Lor! Wish I knew the right way to +talk to a Bishop. Can't call _him_ nothing--so doosid familiar. +(_Aloud._) _Andromeda_ sickly, your--(_tentatively_)--your Right +Reverence? Not a bit of it--sound as a roach! + +_The Bishop._ If I had thought my--ah--criticisms were to be repeated--I +might say misrepresented, as the Countess has thought proper to do, Mr. +SPURRELL, I should not have ventured to make them. At the same time, you +must be conscious yourself, I think, of certain blemishes which would +justify the terms I employed. + +_Spurr._ I never saw any in _Andromeda_ myself, your--your Holiness. +You're the first to find a fault in her. I don't say there mayn't be +something dicky about the setting and the turn of the tail, but that's a +trifle. + +_The Bishop._ I did not refer to the setting of the tale, and the +portions I object to are scarcely trifles. But pardon me if I prefer to +end a discussion that is somewhat unprofitable. (_To himself, as he +turns on his heel._) A most arrogant, self-satisfied, and conceited +young man--a truly lamentable product of this half-educated age! + +_Spurr._ (_to himself_). Well, he may be a dab at dogmas--he don't know +much about dogs. _Drummy_'s got a constitution worth a dozen of _his_! + +_Lady Culv._ (_approaching him_). Oh, Mr. SPURRELL, Lord LULLINGTON +wishes to know you. If you will come with me. (_To herself, as she leads +him up to_ Lord L.) I do _wish_ ROHESIA wouldn't force me to do this +sort of thing! + + [_She presents him._ + +_Lord Lullington_ (_to himself_). I suppose I _ought_ to know all +about his novel, or whatever it is he's done. (_Aloud, with +courtliness._) Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. SPURRELL; +you've--ah--delighted the world by your _Andromeda_. When are we to look +for your next production? Soon, I hope. + +_Spurr._ (_to himself_). He's after a pup now! Never met such a doggy +lot in my life! (_Aloud._) Er--well, my lord, I've promised so many as +it is, that I hardly see my way to---- + +_Lord Lull._ (_paternally_). Take my advice, my dear young man, leave +yourself as free as possible. Expect you to give us your best, you know. + + [_He turns to continue a conversation._ + +_Spurr._ (_to himself_). _Give_ it! He won't get it under a five-pound +note, I can tell him. (_He makes his way to_ Miss SPELWANE.) I say, what +do you think the old Bishop's been up to? Pitching into _Andromeda_ like +the very dooce--says she's _sickly_! + +_Miss Spelwane_ (_to herself_). He brings his literary disappointments +to _me_, not MAISIE! (_Aloud, with the sweetest sympathy._) How +dreadfully unjust! Oh, I've dropped my fan--no, pray don't trouble; I +can pick it up. My arms are so long, you know--like a kangaroo's--no, +what _is_ that animal which has such long arms? You're so clever, you +_ought_ to know! + +_Spurr._ I suppose you mean a gorilla? + +_Miss Spelw._ How crushing of you! But you must go away now, or else +you'll find nothing to say to me at dinner--you take me in, you know. I +hope you feel privileged. I feel----But if I told you, I might make you +too conceited! + +_Spurr._ Oh, no, you wouldn't. + + [Sir RUPERT _approaches with_ Mr. SHORTHORN. + +_Sir Rupert._ VIVIEN, my dear, let me introduce Mr. SHORTHORN--Miss +SPELWANE. (_To_ SPURRELL.) Let me see--ha--yes, you take in Mrs. +CHATTERIS. Don't know her? Come this way, and I'll find her for you. + + [_He marches_ SPURRELL _off._ + +_Mr. Shorthorn_ (_to_ Miss SPELWANE). Good thing getting this rain at +last; a little more of this dry weather and we should have had no grass +to speak of! + +_Miss Spelw._ (_who has not quite recovered from her disappointment_). +And now you _will_ have some grass to speak of? _How_ fortunate! + +_Spurr._ (_as dinner is announced, to_ Lady MAISIE). I say, Lady MAISIE, +I've just been told I've got to take in a married lady. I don't know +what to talk to her about. I should feel a lot more at home with you. +Couldn't we manage it somehow? + +_Lady Maisie_ (_to herself_). What a fearful suggestion--but I simply +_daren't_ snub him! (_Aloud._) I'm afraid, Mr. SPURRELL, we must both +put up with the partners we have; most distressing, isn't it--_but_! + + [_She gives a little shrug._ + +_Captain Thicknesse_ (_immediately behind her, to himself_). Gad, +_that_'s pleasant! I knew I'd better have gone to Aldershot! (_Aloud._) +I've been told off to take you in, Lady MAISIE, not _my_ fault, don't +you know. + +_Lady Maisie._ There's no need to be so apologetic about it. (_To +herself._) Oh, I _hope_ he didn't hear what I said to that wretch. + +_Capt. Thick._ Well, I rather thought there _might_ be, perhaps. + +_Lady Maisie_ (_to herself_). He _did_ hear it. If he's going to be so +stupid as to misunderstand, I'm sure _I_ shan't explain. + + [_They take their place in the procession to the Dining Hall._ + +[Illustration: "I'd rather a job to get these things on; but they're +really a wonderful fit, considering!"] + + * * * * * + +RATIONAL DRESS. + +(_A Reformer's Note to a Current Controversy._) + +[Illustration] + + OH, ungallant must be the man indeed + Who calls "nine women out of ten" "knock-kneed"! + And he should not remain in peace for long, + Who says "the nether limbs of women" are "all wrong." + Such are the arguments designed to prove + That Woman's ill-advised to make a move + To mannish clothes. These arguments are such + As to be of the kind that prove too much. + If Woman's limbs in truth unshapely grow, + The present style of dress just makes them so! + + * * * * * + +QUEER QUERIES.--A QUESTION OF TERMS.--I am sometimes allowed, by the +kindness of a warder, to see a newspaper, and I have just read that some +scientific cove says that man's natural life is 105 years. Now is this +true? I want to know, because I am in here for what the Judge called +"the term of my natural life," and, if it is to last for 105 years, I +consider I have been badly swindled. I say it quite respectfully, and I +hope the Governor will allow the expression to pass. Please direct +answers to Her Majesty's Prison, Princetown, Devon.--No. 67. + + * * * * * + +IN THREE VOLUMES. + +VOLUME I.--_Awakening._ + +AND so the work was done. BELINDA, after a year's hard writing, had +completed her self-appointed task. _Douglas the Doomed One_ had grown by +degrees into its present proportions. First the initial volume was +completed; then the second was finished; and now the third was ready for +the printer's hands. But who should have it? Ah, there was the rub! +BELINDA knew no publishers and had no influence. How could she get +anyone to take the novel up? And yet, if she was to believe the +_Author_, there was plenty of room for untried talent. According to that +interesting periodical publishers were constantly on the lookout for +undiscovered genius. Why should she not try the firm of Messrs. BINDING +AND PRINT? She made up her mind. She set her face hard, and muttered, +"Yes, they _shall_ do it! _Douglas the Doomed One_ shall appear with the +assistance of Messrs. BINDING AND PRINT!" And when BELINDA made up her +mind to do anything, not wild omnibus-horses would turn her from her +purpose. + +[Illustration] + +VOLUME II.--_Wide Awake._ + +Messrs. BINDING AND PRINT had received their visitor with courtesy. They +did not require to read _Douglas the Doomed One_. They had discovered +that it was sufficiently long to make the regulation three volumes. That +was all that was necessary. They would accept it. They would be happy to +publish it. + +"And about terms?" murmured BELINDA. + +"Half profits," returned Mr. BINDING, with animation. + +"When we have paid for the outlay we shall divide the residue," cried +Mr. PRINT. + +"And do you think I shall soon get a cheque?" asked the anxious +authoress. + +"Well, that is a question not easy to answer. You see, we usually spend +any money we make in advertising. It does the work good in the long run, +although at first it rather checks the profits." + +BELINDA was satisfied, and took her departure. + +"We must advertise _Douglas the Doomed One_ in the _Skatemaker's +Quarterly Magazine_," said Mr. BINDER. + +"And in the _Crossing Sweeper's Annual_," replied Mr. PRINT. Then the +two partners smiled at one another knowingly. They laughed as they +remembered that of both the periodicals they had mentioned they were the +proprietors. + +VOLUME III.--_Fast Asleep._ + +The poor patient at Slocum-on-Slush moaned. He had been practically +awake for a month, and nothing could send him to sleep. The Doctor held +his wrist, and as he felt the rapid beats of his pulse became graver and +graver. + +"And you have no friends, no relatives?" + +"No. My only visitor was the man who brought that box of books from a +metropolitan library." + +"A box of books!" exclaimed the Doctor. "There may yet be time to save +his life!" + +The man of science rose abruptly, and approaching the casket containing +the current literature of the day, roughly forced it open. He hurriedly +inspected its contents. He turned over the volumes impatiently until he +reached a set. + +"The very thing!" he murmured. "If I can but get him to read this he +will be saved." Then turning to his patient he continued, "You should +peruse this novel. It is one that I recommend in cases such as yours." + +"I am afraid I am past reading," returned the invalid. "However, I will +do my best." + +An hour later the Doctor (who had had to make some calls) returned and +found that his patient was sleeping peacefully. The first volume of +_Douglas the Doomed One_ had the desired result. + +"Excellent, excellent," murmured the medico. "It had the same effect +upon another of my patients. The crisis is over! He will now recover +like the other. Insomnia has been conquered for the second time by +_Douglas the Doomed One_, and who now shall say that the three-volume +novel of the amateur is not a means of spreading civilisation? It must +be a mine of wealth to somebody." + +And Messrs. BINDING AND PRINT, had they heard the Doctor's remark, +would have agreed with him! + + * * * * * + +All the Difference. + + "THE SPEAKER then called Mr. LITTLE to order." + Quite right in our wise and most vigilant warder. + He calls us to order! Oh that, without fuss, + The SPEAKER could only call Order to us! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: RES ANGUSTA DOMI. + +(_In a Children's Hospital._) + +"MY PORE YABBIT'S DEAD!" + +"HOW SAD!" + +"DADDA KILLED MY PORE YABBIT IN BACK KITCHEN!" + +"OH DEAR!" + +"I HAD TATERS WIV MY PORE YABBIT!"] + + * * * * * + +"A LITTLE TOO PREVIOUS!" + + ["I desire to submit that this is a very great question, which will + have to be determined, but upon a very different ground from that of + the salaries of the officers of the House of Lords.... If there is + to be a contest between the House of Lords and the House of Commons, + let us take it upon higher ground than this."--_Sir William + Harcourt._] + + There was a little urchin, and he had an old horse-pistol, + Which he rammed with powder damp and shots of lead, lead, lead; + And he cried "I know not fear! I'll go stalking of the deer!" + For this little cove was slightly off his head, head, head. + + This ambitious little lad was a Paddy and a Rad, + And himself he rather fancied as a shot, shot, shot; + And he held the rules of sport, and close season, and, in short, + The "regulation rubbish" was all rot, rot, rot. + + He held a "bird" a thing to be potted on the wing, + Or perched upon a hedge, or up a tree, tree, tree; + And, says he, "If a foine stag I can add to my small bag, + A pistol _or_ a Maxim will suit me, me, me!" + + And so upon all fours he would crawl about the moors, + To the detriment of elbows, knees, and slack, slack, slack; + And he says, "What use a-talking? If I choose to call this 'stalking,' + And _I bag my game_, who's going to hould me back, back, back?" + + Says he, "I scoff at raisons, and stale talk of toimes and saisons; + I'm game to shoot a fox, or spear a stag, stag, stag; + Nay, I'd net, or club, a salmon; your old rules of sport are gammon, + For wid me it's just a question of the bag, bag, bag! + + "There are omadhauns, I know, who would let a foine buck go + Just bekase 'twas out of toime, or they'd no gun, gun, gun; + But if oi can hit, and hurt, wid a pistol--or a squirt-- + By jabers, it is all the betther fun, fun, fun!" + + So he scurryfunged around with his stomach on the ground + (For stalking seems of crawling a mere branch, branch, branch). + And he spied "a stag of ten," and he cried, "Hurroo! Now then, + I fancy I can hit _him_--in the haunch, haunch haunch! + + "Faix! I'll bag that foine Stag Royal, or at any rate oi'll troy all + The devoices of a sportshman from the Oisle, Oisle, Oisle. + One who's used to shoot asprawl from behoind a hedge or wall, + At the risks of rock and heather well may smoile, smoile, smoile!" + + But our sportsman bold, though silly, by a stalwart Highland gillie, + Was right suddenly arrested ere he fired, fired, fired.-- + "Hoots! If you'll excuse the hint, that old thing, with lock of flint, + As a weapon for _this_ sport can't be admired, mired, mired! + + "It will not bring down _that_ quarry, your horse-pistol! Don't _you_ + worry! + That Royal Stag _we_'ll stalk, boy, in good time, time, time; + But to pop at it just now, and kick up an awful row, + Scare, and _miss_ it were a folly, nay a crime, crime, crime! + + "Be you sure 'Our Party' will this fine quarry track and kill; + Our guns need not your poor toy blunderbuss, buss, buss. + This is not the time or place for a-following up this chase; + So just clear out and leave this game to us, us, us!" + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "A LITTLE TOO PREVIOUS!" + +H-RC-RT. "NO, NO, MY LAD! THAT WON'T HURT HIM! YOU MUST LEAVE HIM TO +_US_!"] + + * * * * * + +IN MEMORIAM. + + [Baron MUNDY, the founder of the valuable Vienna Voluntary Sanitary + Ambulance Society, mighty foe of disease and munificent dispenser of + charity, shot himself on Thursday, August 23, on the banks of the + Danube, at the advanced age of 72.] + + Great sanitary leader and reformer, + Disease's scourge and potent pest-house stormer; + Successful foe of cholera aforetime, + Perfecter of field-ambulance in war-time; + Dispenser of a fortune in large charity; + _Vale!_ Such heroes are in sooth a rarity. + Alas, that you in death should shock Dame GRUNDY! + That we should sigh "_Sic transit gloria_ MUNDY!" + + * * * * * + +A CLOTHES DIVISION (OF OPINION).--It is said that Woman cannot afford to +alter her style of dress, since her limbs are "all wrong." Clear, +therefore, that however much Woman's Wrongs need redressing, All-Wrong +Women don't! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: Q. E. D. + +"WHAT'S UP WI' SAL?" + +"AIN'T YER ERD? SHE'S MARRIED AGIN!"] + + * * * * * + +"AUXILIARY ASSISTANCE" IN THE PROVINCES. + +(_A Tragedy-Farce in several painful Scenes, with many unpleasant +Situations._) + +LOCALITY--_The Interior of Country Place taken for the Shooting Season. +Preparations for a feast in all directions. It is Six o' Clock, and the +household are eagerly waiting the appearance of_ MONTAGU MARMADUKE, the +Auxiliary Butler, _sent in by Contract. Enter_ MONTAGU MARMADUKE, _in +comic evening dress._ + +_Master_ (_looking at_ MONTAGU _with an expression of disappointment on +his face_). What, are _you_ the man they have sent me? + +_Montagu._ Yessir. And I answers to MONTAGU MARMADUKE, or some gentlemen +prefers to call me by my real name BINKS. + +_Master._ Oh, MONTAGU will do. I hope you know your duties? + +_Mon._ Which I was in service, Sir, with Sir BARNABY JINKS, for +twenty-six years, and---- + +_Master._ Very well, I daresay you will do. I suppose you know about the +wine? + +_Mon._ Yessir. In course. I've been a teetotaler ever since I left Sir +BARNABY'S. + +_Master_ (_retiring_). And mind, do not murder the names of the guests. + + [_Exit._ + + [_The time goes on, and Company arrive._ MONTAGU _ushers them + upstairs, and announces them under various aliases._ Sir HENRY + EISTERFODD _is introduced as_ Sir 'ENERY EASTEREGG, _&c., &c._ + _After small talk, the guests find their way to the dining-room._ + +_Mon._ (_to_ Principal Guest). Do you take sherry, claret, or 'ock, my +Lady? + +_Principal Guest_ (_interrupted in a conversation_). Claret, please. + + [MONTAGU _promptly pours the required liquid on to the table-cloth._ + +_Master._ I must apologise, but our Butler, who is on trial, is very +short-sighted. + +_P. Guest._ Evidently. + + [_The wine is brought round;_ MONTAGU _interrupting the conversation + with his hospitable suggestions, and pouring claret into champagne + glasses, and champagne into sherries._ + +_Nervous Guest_ (_in an undertone to_ MONTAGU). Do you think you could +get me, by-and-by, a piece of bread? + +_Mon._ Bread, Sir, yessir! (_In stentorian tones._) Here, NISBET, bring +this gent some bread! + + [_The unfortunate guest, who is overcome with confusion at having + attracted so much attention, is waited upon by_ NISBET. + +_Master_ (_savagely_). Can't you go about more quietly? + +_Mon._ (_hurt_). Certainly, Sir. When I was with Sir BARNABY---- +(_Disappears murmuring to himself, and returns with entrée, which he +lets fall on dress of_ Principal Guest). Beg pardon, my Lady, but it was +my stud, which _would_ come undone. Very sorry, indeed, Mum, but if you +will allow me---- + + [_Produces a soiled dinner-napkin with a flourish._ + +_P. Guest_ (_in much alarm_). No thanks! + + [_General commiseration, and, a little later, disappearance of + ladies. After this,_ MONTAGU _does not reappear except to call + obtrusively for carriages, and tout for tips._ + +_P. Guest_ (_on bidding her host good-night_). I can assure you my gown +was not injured in the least. I am quite sure it was only an accident. + +_Master_ (_bowing_). You are most kind. (_With great severity._) As a +matter of fact, the man only came to us this afternoon, but, after what +has happened, he shall not remain in my service another hour! I shall +dismiss him to-night! + + [_Exit_ Principal Guest. Master _pays_ MONTAGU _the agreed fee for + his services for the evening. Curtain._ + + * * * * * + +TO A PHILANTHROPIST. + + You ask me, Madam, if by chance we meet, + For money just to keep upon its feet + That hospital, that school, or that retreat, + That home. + + I help that hospital? My doctor's fee + Absorbs too much. Alas! I cannot be + An inmate there myself; he comes to me + At home. + + Do not suppose I have too close a fist. + Rent, rates, bills, taxes, make a fearful list; + I should be homeless if I did assist + That home. + + I must--it is my impecunious lot-- + Economise the little I have got; + So if I see you coming I am "not + At home." + + My clothes are shabby. How I should be dunned + By tailor, hatter, hosier, whom I've shunned, + If I supported that school clothing fund, + That home! + + I'd help if folks wore nothing but their skins; + This hat, this coat, at which the street-boy grins, + Remind me still that "Charity begins + At home." + + * * * * * + +Kiss versus Kiss. + + On the cold cannon's mouth the Kiss of Peace + Should fall like flowers, and bid its bellowings cease!-- + But ah! that Kiss of Peace seems very far + From being as strong as the _Hotch_kiss of War! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: QUALIFIED ADMIRATION. + +_Country Vicar._ "WELL, JOHN, WHAT DO YOU THINK OF LONDON?" + +_Yokel._ "LOR' BLESS YER, SIR, IT'LL BE A FINE PLACE _WHEN IT'S +FINISHED_!"] + + * * * * * + +PAGE FROM "ROSEBERY'S HISTORY OF THE COMMONWEALTH." + +(_With Mr. Punch's Compliments to the Gentleman who will have to design +"that statue."_) + +"You really must join the Army," said the stern old Puritan to the Lord +Protector. "The fate of this fair realm of England depends upon the +promptness with which you assume command." + +OLIVER CROMWELL paused. He had laid aside his buff doublet, and had +donned a coat of a thinner material. His sword also was gone, and +hanging by his side was a pair of double spy-glasses--new in those +days--new in very deed. + +"I cannot go," cried the Lord Protector at last, "it would be too great +a sacrifice." + +"You said not that," pursued IRETON--for it was he--"when you called +upon CHARLES to lose his head." + +"But in this case, good sooth, I would wish a head to be won, or the +victory to be by a head;" and then the Uncrowned King laughed long and +heartily, as was his wont when some jest tickled him. + +"This is no matter for merriment," exclaimed IRETON sternly. "OLIVER, +you are playing the fool. You are sacrificing for pleasure, business, +duty." + +"Well, I cannot help it," was the response. "But mind you, IRETON, it +shall be the last time." + +"What is it that attracts you so strongly? What is the pleasure that +lures you away from the path of duty?" + +"I will tell you, and then you will pity, perchance forgive me. To-day +my horse runs at Epsom. With luck his chance is a certainty. So +farewell." Then the two old friends grasped hands and parted. One went +to fight on the blood-stained field of battle, and the other to see the +race for the Derby. + + * * * * * + +ON A CLUMSY CRICKETER. + + At TIMBERTOES his Captain rails + As one in doleful dumps; + Oft given "leg before"--the bails, + Not bat before--the stumps. + The Genevese Professor YUNG + Believes the time approaches + When man will lose his legs, ill-slung, + Through trams, cars, cabs, and coaches; + Or that those nether limbs will be + The merest of survivals. + The thought fills TIMBERTOES with glee, + No more he'll fear his rivals. + "Without these bulky, blundering pegs + I shall not fail to score, + For if a man has got no legs, + He _can't_ get 'leg-before.'" + + * * * * * + +SITTING ON OUR SENATE. + +SIR,--It struck me that the best and simplest way of finding out what +were the intentions of the Government with regard to the veto of the +Peers was to write and ask each individual Member his opinion on the +subject. Accordingly I have done so, and it seems to me that there is a +vast amount of significance in the nature of the replies I have +received, to anyone capable of reading between the lines; or, as most of +the communications only extended to a single line, let us say to anyone +capable of reading beyond the full-stop. Lord ROSEBERY'S Secretary, for +example, writes that "the Prime Minister is at present out of town"--_at +present_, you see, but obviously on the point of coming back, in order +to grapple with my letter and the question generally. Sir WILLIAM +HARCOURT, his Secretary, writes, "is at Wiesbaden, but upon his return +your communication will no doubt receive his attention"--_receive his +attention_, an ominous phrase for the Peers, who seem hardly to realise +that between them and ruin there is only the distance from Wiesbaden to +Downing Street. Then Mr. MORLEY "sees no reason to alter his published +opinion on the subject"--_alter_, how readily, by the prefixing of a +single letter, that word becomes _halter_! I was unable to effect +personal service of my letter on the ATTORNEY-GENERAL, possibly because +I called at his chambers during the Long Vacation; but the fact that a +card should have been attached to his door bearing the words "Back at 2 +P.M." surely indicates that Sir JOHN RIGBY will _back up_ his leaders in +any approaching attack on the fortress of feudalism! Then surely the +circumstance that the other Ministers to whom my letters were addressed +_have not as yet sent any answer_ shows how seriously they regard the +situation, and how disinclined they are to commit themselves to a too +hasty reply! In fact, the outlook for the House of Lords, judging from +these Ministerial communications, is decidedly gloomy, and I am inclined +to think that an Autumn Session devoted to abolishing it is a most +probable eventuality. + + Yours, + + FUSSY-CUSS EXSPECTANS. + +SIR,--The real way of dealing with the Lords is as follows. The next +time that they want to meet, cut off their gas and water! Tell the +butcher and baker _not_ to call at the House for orders, and dismiss the +charwomen who dust their bloated benches. If _this_ doesn't bring them +to reason, nothing will. + +HIGH-MINDED DEMOCRAT. + + * * * * * + +IN PRAISE OF BOYS. + +(_By an "Old One."_) + + ["A Mother of Boys," angry with Mr. JAMES PAYN for his dealings with + "that barbarous race," suggests that as an _amende honorable_ he + should write a book in praise of boys.] + + In praise of boys? In praise of boys? + Who mess the house, and make a noise, + And break the peace, and smash their toys, + And dissipate domestic joys, + Do everything that most annoys, + The BOBS and BILLYS, RALPHS and ROYS?-- + Just as well praise a hurricane, + The buzzing fly on the window-pane, + An earthquake or a rooting pig! + No, young or old, or small or big, + A boy's a pest, a plague, a scourge, + A dread domestic demiurge + Who brings the home to chaos' verge. + The _only_ reason I can see + For praising him is--well, that he, + As WORDSWORTH--so his dictum ran-- + Declared, is "father to the man." + And even then the better plan + Would be that he, calm, sober, sage, + Were--_born at true paternal age_! + Did all boys start at twenty-five + I were the happiest "Boy" alive! + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: A LITTLE "NEW WOMAN." + +_He._ "WHAT A SHAME IT IS THAT MEN MAY ASK WOMEN TO MARRY THEM, AND +WOMEN MAYN'T ASK MEN!" + +_She._ "OH, WELL, YOU KNOW, I SUPPOSE THEY CAN ALWAYS GIVE A SORT OF +_HINT_!" + +_He._ "WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY A _HINT_?" + +_She._ "WELL--THEY CAN ALWAYS SAY, 'OH, I DO _LOVE_ YOU SO!'"] + + * * * * * + +THE PULLMAN CAR. + +(AIR--"_The Low-backed Car._") + + I rather like that Car, Sir, + 'Tis easy for a ride. + But gold galore + May mean strife and gore. + If 'tis stained with greed and pride. + Though its comforts are delightful, + And its cushions made with taste, + There's a spectre sits beside me + That I'd gladly fly in haste-- + As I ride in the Pullman Car; + And echoes of wrath and war, + And of Labour's mad cheers, + Seem to sound in my ears + As I ride in the Pullman Car! + + * * * * * + +QUEER QUERIES.--"SCIENCE FALSELY SO CALLED."--What is this talk at the +British Association about a "new gas"? Isn't the old good enough? My +connection--as a shareholder--with one of our leading gas companies, +enables me to state authoritatively that no new gas is required by the +public. I am surprised that a nobleman like Lord RAYLEIGH should even +attempt to make such a thoroughly useless, and, indeed, revolutionary +discovery. It is enough to turn anyone into a democrat at once. And what +was Lord SALISBURY, as a Conservative, doing, in allowing such a subject +to be mooted at Oxford? Why did he not at once turn the new gas off at +the meter? + +INDIGNANT. + + * * * * * + +OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. + +[Illustration] + +From HENRY SOTHERAN & CO. (so a worthy Baronite reports) comes a second +edition of _Game Birds and Shooting Sketches_, by JOHN GUILLE MILLAIS. +Every sportsman who is something more than a mere bird-killer ought to +buy this beautiful book. Mr. MILLAIS' drawings are wonderfully delicate, +and, so far as I can judge, remarkably accurate. He has a fine touch for +plumage, and renders with extraordinary success the bold and resolute +bearing of the British game-bird in the privacy of his own peculiar +haunts. I am glad the public have shown themselves sufficiently +appreciative to warrant Mr. MILLAIS in putting forth a second edition of +a book which is the beautiful and artistic result of very many days of +patient and careful observation. By the way, there is an illustration of +a Blackcock Tournament, which is, for knock-about primitive humour, as +good as a pantomime rally. One more by-the-way. Are we in future to +spell Capercailzie with an extra l in place of the z, as Mr. MILLAIS +spells it? Surely it is rather wanton thus to annihilate the pride of +the sportsman who knew what was what, and who never pronounced the z. If +you take away the z you take away all merit from him. Perhaps Mr. +MILLAIS will consider the matter in his third edition. + +THE BARON DE B.-W. + + * * * * * + +WET-WILLOW. + +A SONG OF A SLOPPY SEASON. + +(_By a Washed-Out Willow-Wielder._) + +AIR--"_Titwillow._" + + In the dull, damp pavilion a popular "Bat" + Sang "Willow, wet-willow, wet-willow!" + And I said "Oh! great slogger, pray what are you at, + Singing 'Willow, wet-willow, wet-willow'? + Is it lowness of average, batsman," I cried; + "Or a bad 'brace of ducks' that has lowered your pride?" + With a low-muttered swear-word or two he replied, + "Oh willow, wet-willow, wet-willow!" + + He said "In the mud one can't score, anyhow, + Singing willow, wet-willow, wet-willow! + The people are raising a deuce of a row, + Oh willow, wet-willow, wet-willow! + I've been waiting all day in these flannels--they're damp!-- + The spectators impatiently shout, shriek, and stamp, + But a batsman, you see, cannot play with a Gamp, + Oh willow, wet-willow, wet-willow! + + "Now I feel just as sure as I am that my name + Isn't willow, wet-willow, wet-willow, + The people will swear that I don't play the game, + Oh willow, wet-willow, wet-willow! + My spirits are low and my scores are not high, + But day after day we've soaked turf and grey sky, + And I shan't have a chance till the wickets get dry, + Oh willow, wet-willow, wet-willow!!!" + + * * * * * + +INVALIDED! + +_Deplorable Result of the Forecast of Aug. 23 on the "D. G." Weather +Girl._ + +[Illustration: FORECAST.--Fair, warmer. WARNINGS.--None issued. ACTUAL +WEATHER.--Raining cats and dogs. _Moral._--Wear a mackintosh over your +classical costume.] + + * * * * * + +A Question of "Rank." + + "His Majesty King Grouse, noblest of game!" + So toasted Host. Replied the Guest, with dryness,-- + "I think that in _this_ house the fitter name + Would be His Royal _Highness_!" + + * * * * * + +ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. + +EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. + +_House of Commons, Monday, August 20._--ASHMEAD-BARTLETT (Knight) is the +CASABIANCA of Front Opposition Bench. All but he have fled. Now his +opportunity; will show jealous colleagues, watchful House, and +interested country, how a party should be led. Had an innings on +Saturday, when, in favourite character of Dompter of British and other +Lions, he worried Under Secretaries for Foreign Affairs and the +Colonies. Didn't get much out of them. In fact what happened seems to +confirm quaint theory SARK advances. + +Says he believes those two astute young men, EDWARD GREY and SYDNEY +BUXTON, "control" the Sheffield Knight. They are active and ambitious. +Still only juniors. Moreover, things are managed so well both at +Foreign Office and Colonial Office that they have no opportunity of +distinguishing themselves. The regular representatives on the Front +Opposition Bench of Foreign Affairs and Colonies say nothing; +patriotically acquiescent in management of concerns in respect of which +it is the high tradition of English statesmanship that the political +game shall not be played. In such circumstances no opening for able +young men. But, suppose they could induce some blatant, irresponsible +person, persistently to put groundless questions, and make insinuations +derogatory to the character of British statesmen at home and British +officials abroad? Then they step in, and, amid applause on both sides of +House, knock over the intruder. Sort of game of House of Commons +nine-pins. Nine-pin doesn't care so that it's noticed; admirable +practice for young Parliamentary Hands. + +_Invaluable to Budding Statesmen._] + +This is SARK'S suggestion of explanation of phenomenon. Fancy much +simpler one might be found. To-night BARTLETT-ELLIS in better luck. +Turns upon ATTORNEY-GENERAL; darkly hints that escape of JABEZ was a +put-up job, of which Law Officers of the Crown might, an' they would, +disclose some interesting particulars. RIGBY, who, when he bends his +step towards House of Commons, seems to leave all his shrewdness and +knowledge of the world in his chambers, rose to the fly; played +BASHMEAD-ARTLETT'S obvious game by getting angry, and delivering long +speech whilst progress of votes, hitherto going on swimmingly, was +arrested for fully an hour. + +_Business done._--Supply voted with both hands. + +_Tuesday._--A precious sight, one worthy of the painter's or sculptor's +art, to see majestic figure of SQUIRE OF MALWOOD standing between House +of Lords and imminent destruction. Irish members and Radicals opposite +have sworn to have blood of the Peers. SAGE OF QUEEN ANNE'S GATE is +taking the waters elsewhere. In his absence do the best we can. Sat up +all last night, the Radicals trying to get at the Lords by the kitchen +entrance; SQUIRE withstanding them till four o'clock in the morning. +Began again to-night. Education Vote on, involving expenditure of six +millions and welfare of innumerable children. Afterwards the Post Office +Vote, upon which the Postmaster-General, ST. ARNOLD-LE-GRAND, endeavours +to reply to HENNIKER-HEATON without betraying consciousness of bodily +existence of such a person. These matters of great and abiding interest; +but only few members present to discuss them. The rest waiting outside +till the lists are cleared and battle rages once more round citadel of +the Lords sullenly sentineled by detachment from the Treasury Bench. + +When engagement reopened SQUIRE gone for his holiday trip, postponed by +the all-night sitting, JOHN MORLEY on guard. Breaks force of assault by +protest that the time is inopportune. By-and-by the Lords shall be +handed over to tender mercies of gentlemen below gangway. Not just now, +and not in this particular way. CHIEF SECRETARY remembers famous case of +absentee landlord not to be intimidated by the shooting of his agent. So +Lords, he urges, not to be properly punished for throwing out Evicted +Tenants Bill by having the salaries of the charwomen docked, and BLACK +ROD turned out to beg his bread. + +Radicals at least not to be denied satisfaction of division. Salaries +of House of Lords staff secured for another year by narrow majority +of 31. + +_Business done._--Nearly all. + +_Wednesday._--The SQUIRE OF MALWOOD at last got off for his well-earned +holiday. Carries with him consciousness of having done supremely well +amid difficulties of peculiar complication. As JOSEPH in flush of +unexpected and still unexplained frankness testified, the Session will +in its accomplished work beat the record of any in modern times. The +SQUIRE been admirably backed by a rare team of colleagues; but in House +of Commons everything depends on the Leader. Had the Session been a +failure, upon his head would have fallen obloquy. As it has been a +success, his be the praise. + +"Well, good bye," said JOHN MORLEY, tears standing in his tender eyes as +he wrung the hand of the almost Lost Leader. "But you know it's not all +over yet. There's the Appropriation Bill. What shall we do if WEIR comes +up on Second Reading?" + +"Oh, dam WEIR," said the SQUIRE. + +JOHN MORLEY inexpressibly shocked. For a moment thought a usually +equable temper had been ruffled by the almost continuous work of twenty +months, culminating in an all-night sitting. On reflection he saw that +the SQUIRE was merely adapting an engineering phrase, describing a +proceeding common enough on river courses. The only point on which +remark open to criticism is that it is tautological. + +_Business done._--Appropriation Bill brought in. + +_Thursday._--GEORGE NEWNES looked in just now; much the same as ever; +the same preoccupied, almost pensive look; a mind weighed down by +ever-multiplying circulation. Troubled with consideration of proposal +made to him to publish special edition of _Strand Magazine_ in tongue +understanded of the majority of the peoples of India. Has conquered +the English-speaking race from Chatham to Chattanooga, from Southampton +to Sydney. Now lo! The poor Indian brings his annas, and begs a boon. + +Meanwhile one of the candidates for vacant Poet Laureateship has broken +out into elegiac verse. "NEWNES," he exclaims, + + "NEWNES, noble hearted, shine, for ever shine; + Though not of royal, yet of hallowed line." + +That sort of thing would make some men vain. There is no couplet to +parallel it since the famous one written by POPE on a place frequented +by a Sovereign whose death is notorious, a place where + + Great ANNA, whom three realms obey, + Did sometimes counsel take and sometimes tea. + +The poet, whose volume bears the proudly humble pseudonym "A Village +Peasant," should look in at the House of Commons and continue his +studies. There are a good many of us here worth a poet's attention. SARK +says the thing is easy enough. "Toss 'em off in no time," says he. +"There's the SQUIRE now, who has not lately referred to his Plantagenet +parentage. Apostrophising him in Committee on Evicted Tenants Bill one +might have said:-- + + SQUIRE, noble hearted, shine, for ever shine; + Though not of hallowed yet of royal line." + +_Business done._--Appropriation Bill read second time. WEIR turned up. +Sir WILFRID LAWSON and others said "Dam." + +_Saturday._--Appropriation Bill read third time this morning. +Prorogation served with five o'clock tea. + +"Parleyment!" said one of the House of Commons waiters loitering at the +gateway of Palace Yard and replying to inquiring visitor from the +country. "Parleyment's horff." So am I. + +_Business done._--All. + +[Illustration: THE IMPERIAL SHEFFIELD NINE-PIN. + + * * * * * + +TO DOROTHY. + +(_My Four-year-old Sweetheart._) + + To make sweet hay I was amazed to find + You absolutely did not know the way, + Though when you did, it seemed much to your mind + To make sweet hay. + + We wandered out. It was a perfect day. + I asked if I might teach you. You were kind + Enough to answer, "Why, _of course_, you may." + I kissed your pretty face with hay entwined, + We made sweet hay. But what will Mother say + If in a dozen years we're still inclined + To make sweet hay? + + * * * * * + +[Transcriber's Note: + +Alternative spellings retained. + +Punctuation normalised without comment. + +Spelling regularised without comment.] + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch or the London Charivari, +Vol.107, September 1, 1894, by Various + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 43845 *** |