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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44020 ***
+
+[Illustration: DIVERSE AIMS.
+
+(_Early Morning_.)
+
+_The Curate_. "YES, IT'S A LOVELY MORNING, TRENCHERMAN; JUST THE SORT TO
+GIVE ONE AN APPETITE FOR BREAKFAST."
+
+_Farmer Trencherman_. "AH! A HAPPITITE FOR YER BREAKFAST, SIR. NOW
+THERE'S THE DIFFERENCE, YER SEE. I BE COME OUT FUR TO GET A BREAKFAST
+FOR MY HAPPITITE!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                              "DUE SOUTH."
+
+            _A Trip round "the Island," and back to P'm'th_.
+
+_Happy Thought (on board crowded steamboat)_.--"Obstinacy is the best
+policy." The obstinate man won't move, and won't speak, except in
+monosyllables; he won't budge one inch for anybody; he puts everybody in
+a worse temper than everybody was before, and, in the end, he wins. To
+the credit of the obstinate man be it said that "he knows how to keep
+his place," and does keep it too.
+
+A kind of second-rate sporting bookmaker, with sandy whiskers and dirty
+hands, who has secured a corner seat near me, smokes like a chimney, and
+the chimney, his pipe, ought to have been swept and cleaned out long
+ago. Also he seems quite unable to take five whiffs without prolific
+expectoration. From experience I believe he will be visited by the
+steward, and told not to smoke. I am awaiting this with malicious
+anticipation of pleasure. I am disappointed. A junior steward, of whom I
+make the inquiry in heating of the objectionable fumigator, replies that
+"Smoking _is_ allowed here, but not abaft." Thanks, very much. The
+sandy-whiskered man won't go "abaft," wherever that is. Perhaps he will
+presently. After a time, when it becomes a bit rougher, he disappears.
+No doubt he has gone "abaft." Let him stay there.
+
+"_The Needles_."--Why needles? There's no more point in the name than
+there is to the rocks.
+
+Opposite Freshwater it very naturally commences to be a bit freshish;
+some people in the forepart are getting very wet; there is a stampede;
+it is still fresher and rougher; but I have every confidence in the
+Captain, who, as I observe, is negligently standing on the bridge,
+deliberately cracking specimens of that great delicacy the early
+filbert, or it may be the still earlier walnut.
+
+_Happy Thought_.--There can be no danger when the Captain is engaged in
+cracking nuts as if they were so many jokes.
+
+Splashing and ducking have commenced freely. The waves do the splashing,
+and the people on board do the ducking.
+
+There are those who look ill and keep well; and others who look well at
+first, but who turn all sorts of colours within a quarter of an hour,
+struggle gallantly, and succumb; children lively, but gradually
+collapsing, lying about doubled up helplessly; comfortable, comely
+matrons who came on board neat and tidy, now horridly uncomfortable, and
+quite reckless of appearance. Here, too, is the uncertain sailor, who
+considers it safer to remain seated, and who, at the end of the voyage,
+is surprised to find himself in perfect health.
+
+_Sighting Ventnor_.--The man "who knows everything" informs us that this
+is Bonchurch, which information a man with a book has of course felt
+himself bound to correct. The latter tells us that it is a place called
+Undercliff (which nobody for one moment believes), and both informants
+are put right by a mariner with a map, who points out all the places
+correctly, and confides to us in a husky voice that "that ere place
+among the trees is Ventnor."
+
+More shower-bathing; the fore-part of the vessel quite cleared by the
+attacking waves.
+
+However, "it soon dries off," says a jolly middle-aged gentleman in a
+summer suit, drenched from tip of collar to toe of boot.
+
+Being well out at sea (how many are never "_well_ out at sea"!), we
+catch sight of Bonchurch and the landslip. Of course we gay nautical
+dogs pity the poor lubbers ashore who "live at home at ease," and who
+are probably suffering from intense---- (Here my remarks, made to a
+jovial companion on a camp-stool, are interrupted by a blob in the eye
+from a wave. On recovery I forget what I was going to say, but fancy
+"the missing word" is "heat.")
+
+Passing Sandown. Of course the well-informed person says, "This is where
+the races are," and equally of course he is immediately contradicted by
+a reduced chorus of bystanders, who pity his deplorable ignorance. Total
+discomfiture of well-informed person. He disappears. "Gone below," like
+a Demon in a pantomime at the appearance of the Good Fairy.
+
+Nice place Sandown apparently, where, it being 1.30, the happy
+Wight-islanders are probably sitting down in comfort to a nice hot
+lunch, while we, the jovial mariners--well, no matter. I shall wait till
+I can lunch ashore.
+
+Our arrangements are to land at Southsea, where (so we were given to
+understand) we ought to be at 2 P.M. But already it is 2 P.M., and I
+dive into my provision-pocket for a broken biscuit. ... An interior
+voice whispers that the broken biscuit was a mistake. I tremble. False
+alarm. Southsea!! Saved!! But we are forty minutes late, and our time
+for refreshment is considerably curtailed.
+
+We crowd off through a sort of black-hole passage. Debarking and
+re-embarking might be very easily managed on a much more comfortable
+plan. We pay one penny for the pier-toll, and we make for the hotel at
+the entrance to the pier. Any port in a storm. Cold luncheon is ready
+for those who can take it, that is, one in six.
+
+_Back again_.--Past Cowes and Ryde. Weather lovely; sea calm.
+
+There are some persons of whom I would make short work were I a Captain
+on board, with power to order into irons anyone whose presence was
+objectionable. And these persons are, Firstly, stout greasy women, with
+damp, dirty little children. Secondly, fat old men and women (more or
+less dirty) eating green, juicy pears with pocket knives. Thirdly,
+smokers of strong pipes. Fourthly, smokers of cigars. Fifthly
+(imprisonment with torture), for smokers of bad cigars. Sixthly, people
+who will persist in attempting to walk about and who, in order to
+preserve their perpendicular, are perpetually making grabs at everything
+and everybody. Seventhly, aimless wanderers, who seem unable to remain
+in one place for five minutes at a time.
+
+5.45. Old England once more. We land on P'm'th Pier.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+"'LUX' AGAINST HIM."--At the Church Congress last week the gentleman
+known as "Father IGNATIUS," who evidently considers an Ecclesiastical
+Congress at Birmingham a mere "Brummagam affair," became uncommonly
+excited. It cannot be said that his violence took the form of demanding
+the blood of any antagonist, as he distinctly objected to the presence
+of _Gore_. But Mr. GORE, author of _Lux Mundi_, won the toss, stood his
+ground, and spoke; his speech being very favourably received. "Yet," as
+the President remarked (probably to himself, as it was not reported),
+"we must draw the line somewhere, and it is only a pity the LYNE has
+been 'drawn' here." Subsequently the LYNE shook hands with the police,
+peace was restored, and the LYNE lay down with the lamb. "See how these
+Christians love one another!"
+
+                                 * * *
+
+Why is an utterly selfish man always a most presentable person in the
+very best society?--_Ans_. Because never for one minute does he forget
+himself.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: MR. PUNCH'S APPEAL--TO COAL-OWNERS, MINERS, AND ALL WHOM
+IT MAY CONCERN.]
+
+  _War!_ Is it still to be war, wild war in the heart of the land?
+    Are we children of England, busied in tearing our mother's breast?
+  And is there no ruling counsel, and is there no warning hand
+    To bring this folly to reason, and still this fury to rest?
+  _War!_ And the boons of Nature are wasted in stubborn strife,
+    And women, children, non-combatants, suffer and starve and stand by;
+  And idle hands are lifted in vain for the means of life;
+                            And _why_?
+
+  Ye will not list to each other, then listen to me and to _these_,
+    Whose mute appeal I must voice, and whose pitiful cause I must
+        plead!
+  You of the hardened hearts playing autocrat much at your ease,
+    And you of the hardened hands who the _end_ of the way little heed;
+  Listen and look and consider! The blows that you blindly strike
+    Like shafts that are shot at a venture, fall not alone upon foes.
+  The arrow shot o'er the house[1] may a brother hurt, belike--
+                            Who knows?
+
+        [1] _Hamlet_, Act V., Sc. 2.
+
+  Who _cares_? Not you, it would seem. For you stand with stubborn
+        front,
+    And backs in hatred averted, and ears to all counsels closed;
+  While ten thousand innocent lives of _your_ quarrel are bearing the
+        brunt,
+    And a myriad hands hang idle because _you_ are fiercely opposed.
+  Look at them! Gathered hungry about an empty grate.
+    Whilst the coal they crave lies idle within the unpeopled mine,
+  And Wealth and Work, at odds, when invited to arbitrate--
+                             Decline!
+
+  Capital sets its face, and cocks a contemptuous nose,
+    And Labour, lounging sullenly, snaps its jaws like a spring;
+  And the land must stand at gaze whilst they fight it out as foes!
+    How long must we wait the issue, how long must we "keep the ring"?
+  Are there no rights save yours, no claims save your warring wills?
+    Sense has a word to say, Justice a thing to do.
+  Are we to wait and wait while the land with suffering thrills,
+                             For _you_?
+
+  Sympathy? Ay, good friends! But sympathy's not like wrath,
+    One-eyed, one-sided, partial. Sympathy's due to all
+  Who fall, fate-tripped and bruised, in your quarrel's Juggernaut path.
+    We think of the wives and children--Charity heeds their call;
+  Does she not proffer her dole "without prejudice"?--Yes, but they
+    Are not sole sufferers now from the Coal War's venomous strife.
+  Thousands of unknown hearts are pleading for Peace to-day--
+                             And _Life_!
+
+  Strong men "out of work," weak women as "out of heart,"
+    Factory gates unopened, and Workhouse gates fast shut.
+  Traffic hampered, arrested, piled trains unable to start.
+    Famine in homes and hearths, trade dead-lock and market-glut!
+  The coal lies there in the mine, untouched of hammer and pick,
+    While yon pale widow-woman must haggle in vain for enough
+  To charge her tiny grate! Faith! the heart that turns not sick
+                             Is tough!
+
+  Tough, my lords of Capital! Hard as the coal-seam black
+    Your Cyclops-drudges dig at--when you will allow them to dig.
+  Say, on your conscience now, _is_ your purse so slender and slack
+    That you _cannot_ bend a little to those who have made you big?
+  The wealth the sunlight stored men hew for you in the dark,
+    From the black and poisonous caverns which once were forests free,
+  'Tis yours--till certain questions are asked and answered! Hark
+                             To me!
+
+  Men will not _always_ stand, while Monopoly wages war,
+    Mute, unquestioning, suffering. Greed, and starvation wage,
+  The crowd of want-urged captives shackled to Mammon's car,
+    Show not the welcomest things to this curious, questioning age.
+  To-day the appeal's to Pity. To-morrow--well, never mind!--
+    Look on the sorrowful picture that _Punch_ commends to your view!
+  Man many a time has found there is wisdom in being kind.
+                             Will _you_?
+
+  And you poor thralls of the pit, remember that you and yours
+    Are not sole sufferers now from this fratricidal strife.
+  Yes, a starving garrison--_fights_; sharp ills demand sharp cures;
+    But when in your stubborn wrath you swear it is "war to the knife,"
+  Remember that knife's at the throat of others than those who'd gain
+    By a victory for you in this fiercest of labour fights.
+  And these, too, who _must_ lose, yet have--shall they not maintain?--
+                             _Their_ rights!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "AND _SHE_ OUGHT TO KNOW!"
+
+"THAT'S SUPPOSED TO BE A PORTOGRAPH OF LADY SOLSBURY. BUT,
+BLESS YER, IT AIN'T LIKE HER A BIT IN PRIVATE!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                                RIPPIN'.
+
+                    (_A Song of the Modern Masher_.)
+
+  Oh! other centuries have had their blades, their bucks, their dandies,
+  Who had redeeming qualities, but what no man can stand is
+  The up-to-date variety, that miserable nonny,
+  The self-conceited jackanapes who calls himself a "Johnny."
+  He hasn't got the brawn or brains to go in for excesses,
+  His faults are feeble--like himself,--he dawdles, dines, and dresses,
+  His words, his hair, his silly speech to sheer negation clippin',
+  And when he wants to praise a thing, his only word is "Rippin'."
+
+                               _Chorus_.
+
+    Oh! he's rippin', rippin'! A tailor's block set skippin',
+    He's all bad debts and cigarettes and bets and kümmel-nippin',
+    His head's without a grain of sense, his hand he's got no grip in,
+    He drags his walk and tags his talk with "Rippin', rippin',
+        rippin'"!
+
+  His faultless dress is the result of unremitting study,
+  He's quite the perfect "Johnny," never messed and never muddy,
+  His coat is always baggy and his hat is always shiny,
+  His boots are always varnished to their pointed toes so tiny.
+  His shirts, his ties, his walking-sticks are marvels to remember,
+  And with the seasons change from January to December.
+  He always wears a "buttonhole," and in a huge carnation
+  Of hideous hue 'twixt green and blue finds special delectation.
+
+  He has a language of his own which he elects to talk in;
+  He cuts his final g's and speaks of shootin', huntin', walkin';
+  With slipshod phrase and hybrid slang his speeches fairly bristle,
+  And vulgarisms "smart" he loves as donkeys love a thistle.
+  He'll lay "a hun_derd_ poun_d_," or say "he ain't," quite
+        uncompunctive;
+  He systematically spurns the use of the subjunctive.
+  He knows "how the best people talk," and quite ignores the clamour
+  Of any "dash'd low nonsense," such as euphony and grammar.
+
+  He's great upon the music-halls, can tell you what befalls there;
+  He drops in at the Gaiety, and ornaments the stalls there;
+  He knows each vapid joke by heart, and wishes that he knew more;
+  They quite conform in quality to _his_ idea of humour.
+  He skims the sportin' papers, and devours the shillin' thriller;
+  He counts the bard of comic songs a cut above a SCHILLER--
+  In fact, they scoff at poets in his very wide-awake sphere,
+  And in his secret soul he has a fine contempt for SHAKSPEARE.
+
+  He dawdles dully through his day in quite the latest fashion--
+  A round of folly minus wit, and vice without its passion.
+  At five he walks "the Burlington," in which esteemed Arcade he
+  Meets various of his chosen chums--the silly and the shady;
+  Then to the Berkeley or Savoy at eight o'clock or later,
+  Much over-dressed, to over-dine, and over-tip the waiter.
+  The theatre next, and last his club (the which he takes delight in),
+  To prove his pluck by "lookin' on at other Johnnies fightin'."
+
+  His conversation's all made up of stable and of scandal,
+  And tales of "chaps he knows"--whose names have mostly got a "handle."
+  He "don't go in" for ladies much, their style of charm is _not_ his,
+  Which follows on the model of the "Lotties" and the "Totties."
+  He doesn't sing, he doesn't dance, he has no recreation
+  That doesn't sap his scanty brains or sear his reputation,
+  In short,--for him, his antics and his never-ceasin' "rippin',"
+  There's just one cure would answer, and that's whippin', whippin',
+        whippin'.
+
+    Oh! Whippin', whippin', I'd like to set him skippin',
+    To end his bets and cigarettes and stop his kümmel-nippin',
+    With cure in kind his flabby mind to put a little grip in,
+    To brisk his walk and sense his talk with whippin', whippin',
+        whippin'!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                            UNDER THE ROSE.
+
+                         (_A Story in Scenes_.)
+
+    SCENE VIII.--_A prettily-furnished Drawing-room at the_
+    MERRIDEWS' _House in Hans Place_. TIME--_About 5.30 on Saturday
+    afternoon_. Mrs. MERRIDEW _has a small tea-table in front of
+    her_. ALTHEA _is sitting on a couch close by_. _Both ladies are
+    wearing their hats, having just returned from a drive_. Mrs.
+    MERRIDEW _is young and attractive, and her frock is in the
+    latest fashion_; ALTHEA _is more simply dressed, though her hair
+    and toilette have evidently been supervised by an experienced
+    maid_.
+
+_Mrs. Merridew_. I don't think I've ever known the Park so full before
+Easter as it was to-day. Try one of those hot cakes, THEA, or a jam
+sandwich--we don't dine till late, you know. It's been so nice having
+you, I do wish you hadn't to go on Monday--_must_ you?
+
+_Althea_. I'm afraid I must, CISSIE; it has been the most delightful
+week; only--Clapham will seem dreadfully flat after all this. _She
+sighs_.
+
+_Mrs. M_. Notwithstanding the excitement of Mr. CURPHEW'S conversation?
+
+_Alth_. Mr. CURPHEW, CISSIE?
+
+_Mrs. M_. Now don't pretend ignorance, dear. You have quoted Mr. CURPHEW
+and his opinions often enough to show that you see and think a good deal
+of him. And, really, if you colour like that at the mere mention----
+
+_Alth_. Am I colouring? That last cup was so strong. And I don't see Mr.
+CURPHEW at all often. He is more Mamma's friend than mine--she has a
+very high opinion of him.
+
+_Mrs. M_. I daresay he deserves it. He's a fearfully learned and
+superior person, isn't he?
+
+_Alth_. I--I don't know. He writes for the paper.
+
+_Mrs. M_. That's vague, dear. What sort of paper? Political, Scientific,
+Sporting, Society--or what?
+
+_Alth_. I never asked; but I should think--well, he's rather _serious_,
+you know, CISSIE.
+
+_Mrs. M_. Then it's a comic paper, my dear, depend upon it!
+
+_Alth_. Oh, CISSIE, I'm _sure_ it isn't. And he's very hardworking. He's
+not like most men of his age, he doesn't care in the least for
+amusements.
+
+_Mrs. M_. He must be a very lively person. But tell me--you used to tell
+me everything, THEA--does this immaculate paragon show any signs of----?
+
+_Alth_. (_in a low voice_). I'm not sure----Perhaps--but I may be
+mistaken.
+
+_Mrs. M_. And if--don't think me horribly impertinent--but if you're
+_not_ mistaken, have you made up your mind what answer to give him?
+
+_Alth_. (_imploringly_). Don't tease me, CISSIE. I thought once--but now
+I really don't know. I wish he wasn't so strict and severe. I wish he
+understood that one can't always be solemn--that one must have a little
+enjoyment in one's life, when one is young!
+
+_Mrs. M_. And yet I seem to remember a girl who had serious searchings
+of heart, not so very long ago, as to whether it wasn't sinful to go and
+see SHAKSPEARE at the Lyceum!
+
+_Alth_. I know; it was silly of me--but I didn't know what a theatre was
+like. I'd never been to see a play--not even at the Crystal Palace. But
+now I've been, I'd like to go to one every week; they're lovely, and I
+don't believe anything that makes you cry and laugh like that _can_ be
+wicked!
+
+_Mrs. M_. Ah, you were no more meant to be a little Puritan than I was
+myself, dear. Heavens! When I think what an abominable prig I must have
+been at Miss PRUINS'.
+
+_Alth_. You weren't in the least a prig, CISSIE. But you _were_
+different. You used to say you intended to devote yourself entirely to
+Humanity.
+
+_Mrs. M_. Yes; but I didn't realise then what a lot there were of them.
+And when I met FRANK I thought it would be less ambitious to begin with
+_him_. Now I find there's humanity enough in FRANK to occupy the
+devotion of a lifetime. But are you sure, THEA, that this journalist
+admirer of yours is quite the man to----He sounds dull, dear; admirable
+and all that--but, oh, so deadly dull!
+
+[Illustration: "Yes; but I didn't realise then what a lot there were of
+them."]
+
+_Alth_. If he was brilliant and fond of excitement _we_ shouldn't have
+known him; for we're deadly dull ourselves, CISSIE. I never knew _how_
+dull till--till I came to stay with you!
+
+_Mrs. M_. You're not dull, you're a darling; and if you think I'm going
+to let you throw yourself away on some humdrum plodder who will expect
+you to find your sole amusement in hearing him prose, you're mistaken;
+because I shan't. THEA, whatever you do, don't be talked into marrying a
+Dryasdust; you'll only be miserable if you do!
+
+_Alth_. But Mr. CURPHEW isn't as bad as that, CISSIE. And--and he hasn't
+asked me yet, and when he finds out how frivolous I've become, very
+likely he never will; so we needn't talk about it any more, need we?
+
+_Mrs. M_. Now I feel snubbed; but I don't care, it's all for your good,
+my dear, and I've said all I wanted to, so we'll change the subject for
+something more amusing. (Colonel MERRIDEW _comes in_.) Well, FRANK, have
+you actually condescended to come in for some tea? (_To_ ALTHEA.)
+Generally he says tea is all very well for women; and then goes off to
+his club and has at least two cups, and I daresay muffins.
+
+_Col. M_. Why not say ham-sandwiches at once, CECILIA, my dear? pity to
+curb your imagination! (_Sitting down_.) If that tea's drinkable, I
+don't know that I won't have a cup; though it's not what I came for. I
+wanted to know if you'd settled to do anything this evening, because, if
+not, I've got a suggestion--struck me in the Row just after you'd
+passed, and I thought I'd come back and see how _you_ felt about it.
+(_He takes his tea_.) For me?--thanks.
+
+_Mrs. M_. We feel curious about it at present. FRANK.
+
+_Col. M_. Well, I thought that, as this is Miss TOOVEY'S last evening
+with us, it was a pity to waste it at home. Why shouldn't we have a
+little dinner at the Savoy, eh?--about eight--and drop in somewhere
+afterwards, if we feel inclined?
+
+_Mrs. M_. Do you know that's quite a delightful idea of yours, FRANK.
+That is, unless THEA has had enough of gaiety, and would rather we had a
+quiet evening. Would you, dear? _To_ ALTHEA.
+
+_Alth_. (_eagerly_). Oh, no, indeed, CISSIE, I'm not a bit tired!
+
+_Mrs. M_. You're quite sure? But where could we go on afterwards, FRANK;
+shouldn't we be too late for any theatre?
+
+_Col. M_. I rather thought we might look in at the Eldorado; you said
+you were very keen to hear WALTER WILDFIRE. (_He perceives that his wife
+is telegraphing displeasure_.) Eh? why, you _did_ want me to take you.
+
+_Alth_. (_to herself_). WALTER WILDFIRE? why, it was WALTER WILDFIRE
+that CHARLES advised Mr. CURPHEW to go and hear. Mr. CURPHEW said it was
+the very last thing he was likely to do. But he's so prejudiced!
+
+_Mrs. M_. (_trying to make her husband understand_). Some time--but I
+think, not to-night, FRANK.
+
+_Col. M_. If it's not to-night you mayn't get another chance; they say
+he's going to give up singing very soon.
+
+_Mrs. M_. Oh, I hope not! I remember now hearing he was going to retire,
+because his throat was weak, or else he was going into Parliament, or a
+Retreat, or something or other. But I'm sure, FRANK, ALTHEA wouldn't
+quite like to----
+
+_Col. M_. Then of course there's no more to be said. I only thought she
+might be amused, you know.
+
+_Alth_. But indeed I should, Colonel MERRIDEW, please let us go!
+
+_Mrs. M_. But, THEA, dear, are you sure you quite understand what the
+Eldorado _is_?--it's a music-hall. Of course it's all right, and
+everyone goes nowadays; but, still, I shouldn't like to take you if
+there was any chance that your mother might disapprove. You might never
+be allowed to come to us again.
+
+_Alth_. (_to herself_). They're both dying to go, I can see; it's too
+hateful to feel oneself such a kill-joy! And even Mr. CURPHEW admitted
+that a music-hall was no worse than a Penny Reading. (_Aloud_.) I don't
+think Mamma would disapprove, CISSIE; not more than she would of my
+going to theatres, and I've been to _them_, you know!
+
+_Col. M_. We'd have a box, of course, and only just get there in time to
+hear WILDFIRE; we could go away directly afterwards, 'pon my word,
+CECILIA, I don't see any objection, if Miss TOOVEY would like to go.
+Never heard a word against WILDFIRE'S singing, and as for the rest,
+well, you admitted last time there was no real harm in the thing!
+
+_Alth_. Do say yes, CISSIE. I do want to hear this WALTER WILDFIRE so!
+
+_Mrs. M_. I'm not at all sure that I ought to say anything of the sort,
+but there--I'll take the responsibility.
+
+_Col. M_. Then that's settled. We'll take great care of you, Miss
+TOOVEY. I'll just go down to the Rag, CECILIA, and send out to get a
+box. I'll see if I can find someone to make a fourth, and I daresay we
+shall manage to amuse ourselves.                         [_He goes out_.
+
+_Mrs. M_. THEA. I really don't feel quite happy about this. I think I'll
+go after FRANK and tell him not to get that box after all; he won't have
+left the house yet.                             [_She attempts to rise_.
+
+_Alth_. No, CISSIE, you mustn't, if it's on my account. I won't let you!
+                                                  [_She holds her back_.
+
+_Mrs. M_. But, THEA, think. How would you like this Mr. CURPHEW to know
+that----?
+
+_Alth_. (_releasing her suddenly_). Mr. CURPHEW! What does it matter to
+me what Mr. CURPHEW----? ... There, Colonel MERRIDEW has gone, CISSIE, I
+heard the door shut. It's too late--and I'm glad of it. We shall go to
+the Eldorado and hear WALTER WILDFIRE after all!     [END OF SCENE VIII.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: THAT BORE THE MAJOR!]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+HYDE PARK AND KENSINGTON GARDENS. ONCE AGAIN!--M. ZOLA said "he would
+give forty Hyde Parks for one Bois de Boulogne." Bravo! So would all
+Londoners, especially equestrians, who year after year quietly put up
+with that one Rotten Row ride, and do not unite in their hundreds to
+petition "the authorities" (mysterious power!) for the opening of a ride
+through Kensington Gardens from south to north, and for a few "alleys"
+under the broad spreading trees, where now sometimes a few sheep, and
+sometimes a nursery maid and her charge, do stray. A "proposition"
+logically precedes a "rider;" in this case the proposition should come
+from the riders.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: A LARGE ORDER.
+
+"WHAT CAN WE GET FOR YOU, MADAM?" "WINGS!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         "MASTERLY INACTIVITY."
+
+    ["The terms of the Treaty give complete satisfaction to the
+    claims of France."--_M. le Myre de Vilers on the Franco-Siamese
+    Draft Treaty_.]
+
+                        _John Bull, loquitur:_--
+
+  Settling it! Humph! And my Jingoes, no doubt,
+    Would like me to shout "British Interests!" and "Robbery!!!"
+  Well, of course, 'tis quite clear what those two are about,
+    But _I_ do not feel called on to kick up a bobbery.
+  Poor little Siam! It's rather a shame;
+  But--at present--I shan't take a hand in the game.
+
+  Complete satisfaction? Well, _that's_ something gained!
+    "The claims" I had fancied a trifle elastic;
+  "The terms" looked ambiguous, made to be strained,
+    To politic pressure prepared to be plastic.
+  _Micawber_ craved time, and a chance of "turn-up;"
+  And craft has its uses as well as a Krupp.
+
+  Sturdy assertion on one side that table,
+    While scared acquiescence is seen on the other!
+  Further development of the old fable.
+    Wolf and the Lamb next, as brother with brother,
+  Or new Franco-Siamese twins may appear;
+  Well, I pity the Lamb, but I feel little fear.
+
+  It isn't smart Treaties alone secure Trade,
+    And if I keep the Trade they may keep all their Treaties.
+  'Tis not by mere craft your true Trader is made.
+    The Frank as a diplomat neat and complete is,
+  As Colonist-Trader, at settlement--shipment--
+  Well, there's something seems wanting about his equipment.
+
+  Trade gravitates somehow, by natural law,
+    To stickers and stayers, the firmest and fittest.
+  A fig for mere parchment and diplomat jaw!
+    Dear France, thou thy insular neighbour oft twittest
+  As "Shopkeeper"! Well ma'am, _j'y suis_, and shall stop;
+  For a Shopkeeper's one who--of course--_keeps the Shop_!
+
+  I've had some experience. Far Hindostan,
+    And Canada, Africa, Egypt--ah! pardon!
+  That's just a sore point, and I am not the man
+    A rival of me and my ways to be hard on.
+  No; at a neat "counter" a cur only blubbers;
+  And they who play bowls must expect to have rubbers.
+
+  I may have a word to put in by and by;
+    Young ROSEBERY, doubtless, will know how to put it.
+  At present on matters I'll just keep an eye.
+    The World's gate is Trade, and nobody can shut it
+  So tight--by mere Treaties--skill can't turn the handle.
+  One might as well bolt the back door with a candle.
+
+  'Tis all Swag and Swagger! I very much fear
+    That's true of us cock-a-whoop "Civilised Races,"
+  Who hold that our "Influence" must find its "Sphere,"--
+    At the cost of the poor yellow-skins or black faces.
+  We are so much alike, 'twere sheer cant to upbraid,
+  So I mean to stand-by--and look after my Trade!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         NAMES FOR OTHER NAMES.
+
+The London County Council having considered the propriety of changing
+the name of Great George Street, Westminster, we append a list of
+localities that possibly may, later on, attract their attention. In each
+case we have appended a suggested new name, chosen in the customary
+arbitrary and (except in the last specimen) meaningless fashion:--
+
+  Trafalgar Square--Water-squirt Place.
+  Piccadilly--Snooks' Avenue.
+  Mayfair--Mews' Gardens.
+  Eaton Square--Pimlico Enclosure.
+  Haymarket--Picture-dealers' Row.
+  Charing Cross--Araminta Place East.
+  Covent Garden--Cabbage Buildings.
+  The Strand--Western Central High Street.
+  Buckingham Palace--Guelph House.
+  Pall Mall--Pavement Promenade.
+  Westminster Abbey--Members' Meeting House.
+  St. Paul's Cathedral--Lord Mayor's Church.
+  Temple Bar--Law Courts' Corner.
+  Chancery Lane--Smith Street East.
+  Fleet Street--Pedlington Place.
+  Whitehall--Rosebery Row.
+                  and
+  Spring Gardens--County Council Folly.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+SERIOUS NEWS FROM ETON COLLEGE.--Strike of the _Minors_. The Dii Majores
+and the Maximi have come to terms, and the Minors have resumed fagging.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+QUERY FOR AUTHOR AND MANAGER AT COMEDY THEATRE.--When you've been
+_Sowing the Wind_ is the result _A Stitch in the Side_?
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: "MASTERLY INACTIVITY."
+
+JOHN BULL. "TREATY OR NO TREATY--I SHALL DO THE TRADE ALL THE SAME!"]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                         THE RULES OF THE RUDE.
+
+1. The one object which all cyclists should keep steadily in view is to
+become "scorchers." There are three essentials before you can earn this
+proud title. First, you must totally disregard the convenience or safety
+of the public. Second, you must ride at a minimum rate of 15 miles an
+hour. Third, you must develop pronounced curvature of the spine as
+quickly as is compatible with your other engagements.
+
+2. Races should always be held on the high roads, at a time of the day
+when traffic is busiest.
+
+3. Should you be unfortunate enough to knock down a pedestrian, do not
+trouble to stop and apologise, or inquire if he's hurt. It is his
+business to get out of your way, and you should remind him of this
+obligation in the most forcible language at your disposal. This will
+tend to make the pastime exceedingly popular among non-cyclists.
+
+4. If you notice an old gentleman; crossing the road, wait till you get
+quite close to him, then emit a wild war-whoop, blow your trumpet, and
+enjoy the roaring fun of seeing what a shock you have given him.
+
+5. A still better plan, if a wayfarer happens to be walking in the
+middle of the road, and going in your own direction, is _not_ to signal
+your approach at all, but to startle him into fits by suddenly and
+silently gliding by him when he believes himself to be quite alone. The
+nearer you can shave his person the better the sport.
+
+6. Of course the last plan is much improved if the wayfarer should be a
+market woman carrying milk or eggs, and if in her fright she drops her
+can or basket. Unfortunately few cyclists have the good fortune to
+witness this exquisite bit of rural comedy.
+
+    [_These Rules will now probably be thoroughly revised, as the
+    "National Cyclists' Union" has issued a well-timed manifesto
+    warning all wheelmen against "furious riding."_
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+"Well," observed the amiable Mrs. SHARPTON SNAPPIE, "there's only one
+person whom I rate very highly--and that's my husband." [So she did--and
+rated him--soundly.]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: A NEW TARIFF.
+
+"THIRD-CLASS SINGLE TO RUSWARP, PLEASE, AND A DOG-TICKET. HOW MUCH?"
+
+"FOURPENCE-HALFPENNY--THREEPENCE FOR THE DOG, AND THREE-HALFPENCE FOR
+YOURSELF."
+
+"AH! YOU RECKON BY _LEGS_ ON THIS LINE."]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                          NOT A FAIR EXCHANGE.
+
+                  (_An Exercise to be Translated from
+                  English into any Foreign Language_.)
+
+This is a thoroughly British home. I find chairs, sofas, curtains, and
+carpets. They all seem to be of British manufacture.
+
+No, they are not of British manufacture. On the contrary, they are all
+made in Germany.
+
+But surely this window is English? No, it is not English; it is put
+together in Sweden, and erected by Swiss workmen.
+
+But are not these pictures, these fire-irons, these card-tables, of home
+growth? No, for the pictures come from France, the fire-irons from
+Belgium, and the card-tables from Austria.
+
+The sofa, however, was surely bought in London? It may have been bought
+in London, but it was certainly made in Denmark.
+
+But the brass nails mast have arrived from Sheffield? No, they are now
+received from parts of Portugal, Spain, and Northern Russia.
+
+And the coal-scuttles, surely they are made in Lambeth, Manchester, and
+Liverpool? They were manufactured in those places for a while, when
+other branches of trade were lost to the country, but for a long time
+they have been imported from Constantinople.
+
+It may be assumed that the coals come from Newcastle? Certainly not,
+considering that they have only just been received from New York.
+
+Are the bread and butter, and the other ingredients of the tea-table,
+English? Oh dear no; the toast comes from Australia, the tea from
+Ceylon, the sugar from the South Pole, and the butter from Gibraltar.
+
+It really would appear that there is nothing English about the house;
+nothing save the rent and taxes, which of course are of home growth? You
+are correct in your supposition; however, in exchange for these
+conveniences from abroad, we have made a present to the foreigner of
+something once held very dear in this country.
+
+And what was that?
+
+Our trade. English trade has left England, probably permanently, for the
+Continent.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                        "PICTURES PROM 'PUNCH.'"
+
+    ["Let me draw the People's pictures, and whosoever will may
+    preach their sermons."--_Maxims of Punchius_.]
+
+  "Pictures from _Punch_!" Good lack! How one's memories backward it
+        carries.
+  This artful collection of BRIGGSES, and TOMPKINSES, ROBERTS, and
+        'ARRIES!
+  Forage of fifty years from Art--granaries fuller than Coptic!
+  What first pleased our grandfather's eye may now brighten our
+        grandchild's blue optic!
+  Art that's humane never ages, and humour that's human's perennial.
+  Turn to these pages and try! You'll perceive that impeccable TENNIEL
+  Moved men to mirth in the Fifties that folks in the Nineties continue;
+  Your midriff indeed must be numb if his Yeomanry Major won't win you;
+  And such "Illustrations to Shakspeare," so finely drawn and so
+        funnily,
+  Might tickle Miss DELIA BACON, and knock sawdust out of "crank"
+        DONNELLY.
+  Why praise those plump, "pretty girls," with their cheeks round and
+        rosy as peaches,
+  And as full of fun as of beauty, well known to the world as JOHN
+        LEECH'S?
+  All the fan of the _Fair_! Still their arch eyes attractively flash on
+  The British male creature, although he _may_ growl at the follies of
+        Fashion.
+  But e'en fashion cannot kill fun. If you'd enter the evergreen
+        Smile-Lands,
+  Turn over to page twenty-one and accompany BRIGGS to the Highlands!
+  _Br-r-r-r_! There's a happy explosion in each individual picture!
+  "Sport" such as BRIGGS'S escapes the most "humanitarian" stricture.
+  KEANE--gentle CARLO! again! His braw feeshermen--even o' Sundays!--
+  Might soften a Scotch Sabbatarian. Even the grimmest of GRUNDIES
+  _Must_ smile at his topers and tubthumpers, while, as for true English
+        scenery,
+  Where _is_ the magical touch that could so render gay breadths of
+        greenery?
+  Drawing-room humours, and dainty _technique_, do you favour? Fame's
+        _laurier_,
+  Everyone knows--as here proved--for all that falls on subtle DU
+        MAURIER.
+  "DICKY DOYLE'S" opulent fancy, quaint SAMBOURNE'S exhaustless
+        invention--
+  But there, 'tis a "Humorous Art Gallery" by "Great Hands" too many to
+        mention.
+  When you have feasted on TENNIEL and KEANE, then of PARTRIDGE the turn
+        is,
+  And fed full on JOHN LEECH'S "fire," you will find lots of ditto in
+        FURNISS.
+  "Pictures from _Punch_!" That means pictures from full half a
+        century's story;
+  Humours, and fashions, and fads, English Mirth--English Girls--English
+        Glory!
+  VICTORIA'S reign set to laughter; a gay panorama of Beauty!
+  Buy Britons, study, enjoy! 'Tis your interest, aye, and your duty!
+  Here are "England--Home--Beauty" in one, and at sixpence a month.
+        That's not much, man!
+  If 'tis not your duty to "see that you get it," then _Punch_ is a
+        Dutchman!
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: HIS OPPORTUNITY.
+
+_Young Hawkins (finding young Mr. Merton, the model of his office, in an
+unexpected haunt)_. "HULLO, MERTON, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? HAVE A
+SHERRY AND BITTERS?"
+
+_Young Merton_. "NO, THANK YOU, HAWKINS; I'M AFRAID IT WOULD GO TO MY
+HEAD."
+
+_Hawkins_. "SO MUCH THE BETTER, OLD MAN. NATURE ABHORS A VACUUM. YOU
+KNOW."]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                                 BOBO.
+
+                  (_The kind of Novel Society likes_.)
+
+"Sling me over a two-eyed steak, BILL," said BOBO.
+
+BILL complied instantly, for he knew the lady's style of conversation;
+but Lord COKALEEK required to be told that his Marchioness
+was asking for one of the bloaters in the silver dish in front of his
+cousin, BILL SPLINTER.
+
+Now, dear reader, I 'm not going to describe Cokaleek House, in the
+black country, or COKALEEK, or BOBO, or BILL. If you are in smart
+society you know all about them beforehand; and if you ain't you must
+puzzle them out the best way you can. The more I don't describe them
+the more vivid and alive they ought to seem to you. As for BOBO, I
+shall let her talk. That's enough. In the course of my two
+volumes--one thick and one thin--which is a new departure, and looks
+as if my publisher thought that BOBO would stretch to three volumes,
+and then found she wouldn't--you will be told, 1, that BOBO had brown
+eyes; 2, that she was five foot eight; and that is all you 'll ever
+know about the outside of BOBO. But you'll hear her talk, and you'll
+see her smoke; and if you can't evolve a fascinating personality out
+of cigarettes, and swears, and skittish conversation, you are not
+worthy to have known BOBO.
+
+I am told that some people have taken "BOBO" for a vulgar caricature
+of a real personage. If they have, I can only say I feel flattered by
+the notion, as it may serve to differentiate me from the vulgar herd
+of novelists who draw on their imagination for their characters.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+                       CHAPTER I. (_and others_).
+
+BOBO began her bloater.
+
+"Why the beast has a hard roe!" she cried. "COKALEEK, you shall have the
+roe;" and she dropped it into his tea before he could object. "You're
+not eating any breakfast. Put the mustard-spoon in his mouth, BILL, if
+he insists upon keeping it wide open while he stares at me. Ain't I
+fascinating this morning? Why the devil don't you notice the new feather
+in my hat? I always wear feathers when I'm going out clubbing, because I
+plume myself upon being smart. Here, somebody see if my spur's screwed
+on all right."
+
+"I wish your head was screwed on half as well," said BILL, as BOBO
+planted her handsome Pinet boot, No. 31z, on the breakfast-table.
+
+COKALEEK looked on and smiled, with his mouth still open. It was all he
+had to do in life. He had married her because she was BOBO; and the more
+she out-Bobo'd BOBO, the better she pleased him. He was a marquis, and a
+millionaire, but he had only one drawing-room at his country-seat; and
+the smoking-room was upstairs--obviously because there was no room for
+it on the ground-floor. And there was only one piano in the house, at
+which BOBO'S gifted young friend, SALLIE RENGAW, was engaged in the
+early morning, picking out an original funeral march with one finger,
+and throwing breakfast-eggs about in the fury of inspiration.
+
+An _oeuf à la coque_ came flying across the passage at this moment,
+through the open door of the dining-room, and hit BILL SPLINTER on the
+nose. BILL was COKALEEK'S first-cousin, and heir-presumptive; in love,
+_pour le bon motif_, with BOBO.
+
+"You should always give SALLIE poached eggs," he remonstrated, holding
+his nose; "they make a worse mess when she pitches them about, but they
+only hurt the furniture."
+
+"Does she always chuck eggs?" asked COKALEEK, mildly.
+
+It was BOBO'S first autumn at Cokaleek House, and the Marquis wasn't
+used to the ways of her gifted friends. She had another friend, besides
+the musical lady, a Miss MIRANDA SKEGGS, whose conversation was like a
+bad dream; and these two, with BILL SPLINTER, were the house-party.
+COKALEEK, waking suddenly from an after-dinner nap, used to think he was
+in Hanwell.
+
+"She chucks anything," answered BOBO; "kidneys, chops, devilled bones.
+How can she help it? That's the divine afflatus."
+
+"It _sounds_ like ta-ra-ra-boomdeay," said COKALEEK, who thought his
+wife meant the melody that SALLIE'S muscular forefinger was thumping out
+on the concert-grand.
+
+"Come, come along, every manjack of you!" shrieked SALLIE, from the
+other side of the passage. "Ain't this glorious? Ain't it majestic?
+Don't it bang BEETHOVEN, and knock SULLIVAN into a cocked-hat? Hark at
+this! Ta-ra-ra! _largo_, for the hautboys and first fiddles. Boom!
+cornets and ophicleides. De----ay! bassoons, double-basses, and
+minute-guns on the big drum. There's a funeral march for you! With my
+learned orchestration it will be as good as SEBASTIAN BACH."
+
+"Back? Why he's never been here in my time," faltered COKALEEK. "I don't
+know any feller called SEBASTIAN."
+
+"Rippin'!" cried BOBO; "and now we'll have the funeral. Get all the
+cloaks and umbrellas off the stand, MIRANDA. BILL, bring me the
+coal-scuttle--that's for the coffin, doncherknow. COKALEEK, you and BILL
+are to be a pair of black horses; and me and MIRANDA 'll be the
+mourners. Play away, SALLIE, with all your might. We're doing the
+funeral."
+
+Out flew BOBO into the garden, driving BILL and COKALEEK before her,
+scattering coals all over the gravel walk, and slashing at the two men
+with her pocket-handkerchief. She rushed all round the house, past the
+windows of the back parlour, kitchen, and scullery; and then she
+suddenly remembered the cub-hunting, and tore off to the stables,
+tally-ho-ing to COKALEEK and BILL to follow her. The next thing they all
+saw was a shower of baking-pears tumbling off the garden-wall, as BOBO
+took it on her favourite hunter. She had been essentially BOBO all that
+morning.
+
+                             CHAPTER XIII.
+
+"BILL," said BOBO, one winter twilight, by the smoking-room fire, after
+her fourteenth cigarette, "I want you to run away with me."
+
+"Rot," answered BILL.
+
+"Yes, I do. I've ordered the carriage for half-past ten this evening. We
+shall catch the mail to Euston."
+
+"You won't catch this male," said BILL. "No, BOBO, you're very good
+fun--in your own house, but I don't want you in mine. You are distinctly
+BOBO, but that's all. It isn't enough to live upon. It won't pay rent
+and taxes."
+
+"You're a cur."
+
+"No, I'm trying to be a gentleman. Besides, what's the matter with
+COKALEEK? Hasn't he millions, and a charming house in the heart of the
+collieries?"
+
+"He's all that's delightful, only I happen to hate him. Directly I leave
+off chaffing him I begin to think of arsenic, and, brilliant as I am, I
+can't coruscate all day. It's very mean of you not to want to elope."
+
+"I daresay; but I'm the only rational being in the book, and I want to
+sustain my character."
+
+                           CHAPTER THE LAST.
+
+BOBO stayed, and BILL went in the carriage that had been ordered for the
+elopement; and then there happened an incident so rare in the realms of
+fiction that it has stamped my novel at once and for ever as the work of
+an original mind.
+
+COKALEEK, the noble, unappreciated husband, got himself killed in the
+hunting-field. He went out with BOBO one morning, and she came home, a
+little earlier than usual, without him, and smoked cigarettes by the
+fire, while he stayed out in the dusk and just meekly rolled over a
+hedge, with his horse uppermost. He wasn't like GUY LIVINGSTONE; he
+wasn't a bit like dozens of heroes of French novels, who have died the
+same kind of death. He was just as absolutely COKALEEK as his wife was
+BOBO.
+
+And did BILL marry BOBO, or BOBO BILL?
+
+Not she! Another woman might have done it--but not BOBO. She knew too
+well what the intelligent reader expected of her; so she jilted BILL, in
+a thoroughly cold-blooded and BOBO-ish manner, and got herself married
+to an Austrian Prince at half-an-hour's notice, by special licence from
+the A. of C.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: FOLLOWING THE EXAMPLE OF MR. GLADSTONE AND MR. GOSCHEN,
+MR. PUNCH VISITS EDINBURGH.]
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+LE PREUX CHEVALIER ENCORE!--After a little dinner at FRASCATI'S, which
+is still "going strong," we paid a visit to the Renovated and Enlarged
+Royal Music Hall, Holborn, and were soon convinced that the best things
+Mr. ALBERT CHEVALIER has yet done are the coster songs, not to be
+surpassed, including the "_Little Nipper_," in which is just the one
+touch of Nature that makes the whole audience sympathetically
+costermongerish. "_My Old Dutch_" was good, but lacking in dramatic
+power, and the latest one "_The Lullaby_," sung by a coster to his
+"biby" in the cradle, wouldn't be worth much if it weren't for Mr.
+CHEVALIER'S reputation as a genuine comedian. It is good, but not equal
+to the "_Little Nipper_." "Full to-night," I observed to Lord ARTHUR
+SWANBOROUGH, who is Generalissimo of the forces "in front" of the house.
+"Yes," replies his Lordship, casually, "it's like this every night.
+Highly respectable everywhere. Only got to have in a preacher, we'd
+supply the choristers, and you'd think it was a service--or something
+like it."
+
+                                 * * *
+
+BY OUR OWN PHILOSOPHER.--Woe to him of whom all men speak well! And woe
+to that seaside or inland country place for which no one has anything
+but praise. It soon becomes the fashion; its natural beauties vanish;
+the artificial comes in. Nature abhors a vacuum; so does the builder.
+Yet Nature creates vacuums and refills them; so does the builder. Nature
+is all things to all men; but the builder has his price. Man, being a
+landed proprietor and a sportsman, preserves; but he also destroys, and
+the more he preserves so much the more does he destroy. Nature gives
+birth and destroys. Self-preservation is Nature's first law, and game
+preservation is the sporting landlord's first law.
+
+                                 * * *
+
+PAIN IN PROSPECT.--Says AUGUSTUS DRURIOLANUS (_Advertiscus_), "_A Life
+of Pleasure_ will last until it is crowded out by the Christmas
+pantomime." Epigramatically, our DRURIOLANUS might have said, "_A Life
+of Pleasure_ will last till the first appearance of PAYNE."
+
+                                 * * *
+
+"TAKE MY BEN'SON!"--"_Don't! Don't!_" a moral antidotal story as a
+sequel to "_Dodo_."
+
+                                 * * *
+
+A VERY BAD "SCUTTLE POLICY."--The Coal Strike.
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+[Illustration: Allan à Daly, Robin Hood's Chief Forester.]
+
+                             A DALY DREAM.
+
+If it be true that "a thing of beauty is a joy for ever," then _The
+Foresters_ at Daly's Theatre ought to have a good run, instead of being
+limited to a certain number of representations. Rarely has a scene of
+more fairy-like beauty been placed on the stage than _Maid Marian's_
+dream in Sherwood Forest. The peculiar light in which the fairies appear
+gives a marvellous elfinesque effect to the woodland surroundings. Sir
+ARTHUR SULLIVAN'S music, too, may be reckoned as among some of his
+happiest efforts, and the gay Savoyard (who has only one rival, and he
+is at the Savoy) is fortunate in such principals as the _First Fairy_,
+Miss GASTON MURRAY, and Miss HASWELL as _Titania_. The Fairy Chorus and
+the Forester Chorus are remarkably efficient. Mr. LLOYD DAUBIGNY as
+_Young Scarlet_ the Outlaw, is bright both as tenor and actor. Mr.
+BOURCHIER is an easy-going representative of the EARL OF HUNTINGDON,
+with just enough suggestion of "divilment" in his face to account for
+his so readily and naturally taking to robbery as a profession.
+
+As _Maid Marian_, Miss ADA REHAN is at once dignified yet playful, and
+as Tennysonianly captivating in her boy's clothes (there were ready-made
+tailors to hand in the days of ISAAC of York), which is of course "_a
+suit of male_," as she is when, as _Rosalind_, she delights us in her
+doublet and hose. Fortunate is Tailor-_Maid Marian_ to obtain a
+situation in the country where so many "followers are allowed"! _Little
+John_, _Will Scarlet_, _Old Much_ who does little, but that little well,
+with many others, make up the aforesaid "followers," who are of course
+very fond of chasing every little dear they see among the greenwood
+trees. Miss CATHERINE LEWIS as _Kate_, with a song, one of Sir ARTHUR'S
+extra good ones, about a Bee (is it in the key of "B," for Sir ARTHUR
+dearly loves a merrie jest?), obtained a hearty encore on the first
+night. Not only her singing of the bee song is good, but her
+stage-buzzyness is excellent.
+
+Mr. HANN'S ('ARRY thinks there's a "lady scene-painter 'ere, and her
+name is HANN") and Mr. RYAN'S scenery is first-rate; and if the business
+of the fighting were more realistic, if the three Friars were a trifle
+less pantomimic, and the three grotesquely-got-up beggars (worthy of
+CALLOT'S pencil) would aim at being less actively funny, with one or two
+other "ifs," including _Friar Tuck's_ general make-up which might be
+vastly improved, and if the last Act were shortened, and the Abbot and
+the Sheriff and the Justiciary were compressed into one, or
+abolished,--any of which alterations may have been effected by now,
+seeing the piece was produced just a week ago,--then the attractions of
+_Maid Marian_ and the fairy scene and the music are of themselves
+sufficient to draw all lovers of the poetic musical drama to Daly's for
+some weeks to come, unless Mr. DALY clips the run with the scissors of
+managerial fate,
+
+                          "For be it understood
+  It would have lived much longer if it could,"
+
+and so banishes his own outlaws from the elegant and commodious theatre
+in Leicester Square.
+
+[Illustration: The Villain of the Piece.]
+
+                                 * * *
+
+NEW NOVEL.--"_The Mackerel of the Dean_," by the author of
+"_The Soul of the Bishop_."
+
+                               * * * * *
+
+                           Transcriber Notes:
+
+Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_.
+
+Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS.
+
+Throughout the document, the oe ligature was replaced with "oe".
+
+Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of
+the speakers. Those words were retained as-is.
+
+Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected
+unless otherwise noted.
+
+On page 178, "cubbing" was replaced with "clubbing".
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol.
+105, October 14th 1893, by Various
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 44020 ***