Punch 1888-11-10: Vol 95 Iss 2470

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ag 400 PICTURES OF ics ores, Games none ill : ee - UR PEOPLE ral quart, logan iy ound. Grice ts BRADBURY. AGNEW, & \ Soe wm BOUVERIE STREET, EC

~yY4 OR > S~ o . \ wy : 3 AS a\ => \ A St Qy ———ea A eS N° 2470. VOLUME NINETY-FIFTH. —e— “SON3d S3S3NUHL 301d > |! & u | > . 0 | w | P @ | d © 2 . as tie 5 a NOV EMBER 10, 5 Sel sare a Be ee vs

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lower NovemBsr 10, 1888.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL 217 “LE SPORTMAN.” “Hri!! Hirt! Srop ze Cuassez! I romene—I ratory! Srop ze Fox/!!" AN EXPLANATION OF THE COCOON TRICK. (By One who has passed a Night with the Spirits.) I nap determined to find out ‘‘ how it was done.” I had seen the placards y+ a _ with wings emerging from what seemed to me to be the skeleton of an re eup, and [ knew that this mar- vellous performance was repeated every night at a Music Hall. But how was it done? That was the point—how was it done? I was pondering over the matter in my study with a glass of whiskey and water beside me. For a while my mind, like SULLIVAN’s organ-man, was ‘‘ ill at ease,” when all of a sudden a trance-like calm fell upon me. I was glad of this, for I knew that I was about to learn the secret. I learn most things after a trance-like calm has fallen upon me. For a while I could not exactly follow what I was doing. Then my brain became as clear as a bell—as crystal. I was standin with Mr. Aveusrus Hanis among the Armada relics at Drury Lane, talking to the descendants of the Elizabethan heroes who had saved England from invasion three hund years ago. They were loud in their praise of the Lessee of the National Theatre. ‘* Yes,” returned the part-author of The Armada, ‘‘I certainly get _The Chief Inquisitor bowed in a stately manner, and, with much dignity, withdrew. The gentleman of evidently foreign extraction was then invited to seat himself on a torture-chair that had been specially brought for him from the collection of Armada relics. After a few minutes passed in cheerful preparation, the talented inventor said that he was then in a position to explain his secret, on the condition, however, ‘‘ that it went no further.’ ‘It isas simple as possible,” he observed, smilingly, as he rose from the torture-chair. ‘‘ It is done by swallowing a potion, similar in character but different in effect to that consumed by Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. But perhaps you would like to see it done.” I said I would, and, S a yl twist of the wrist (very neatly rformed) both the Inventor and myself were ss Daseed into the ‘avilion in an instant. The Hall was crowded, and I found myself behind the seenes. A beautiful young lady was standing deside me with a glass in her hand. I heard the Inventor speaking to the audience. I saw him hold up a sort of frame, covered with tissue- paper. I watched him as he drew, with admirable skill, a worm, and then a cocoén. Then I noticed that the frame and tissue paper had disappeared, and a sort of large walnut, made of silk, had taken their place, as near truth and nature as possible. For instance, the scene of the Holy Inquisition was real. it i obsolete in Spain. You see before you real tormentors, real tortures, and real victims. The gentleman that is dropped through the trap- door at the commencement of the Act in a condition of some exhaus- tion I had to take as a fixture. He said he was accustomed to his rack, and could ill do without it. Yes, we do not only use real tor- tures, but sometimes discover real secrets.” “You do!” I exclaimed, “‘ then do you think you could find out for me how the Cocoon trick is done at the Pavilion?” The Lessee of the National Theatre nodded an assent, and led the way to the stage. When we arrived there we found the gentleman to whom reference has already been made, stretching himself at full length on the rack. “eo Sir,” said the Lessee, ‘‘ and how are you enjoying your- self ?”’ “‘ Thoroughly,” was the immediate reply, ‘‘ they have been giving now I think I am done te a turn.” He was taken from his a parently unconventionally-fashioned couch, and dropped through his ad ton, in his customary con- dition of exhaustion. ‘And now, perhaps, we had better see the talented inventor of this marvellous triek,” said the courteous Lessee, and a gentleman of evidently foreign extraction was introduced. . ‘Do you require my assistance?” asked the Chief Inquisitor, in a voiee that reminded me of the palmy days of the Legitimate Drama, can get on without you.” I got it at some reduction, as it is| me an extra twist this morning, and I feel all the better for it. But} suddenly a at the . as he observed, ‘‘It’s better to be a cow that “Thank you, No,” vetumed, the courteous Lessee. ‘'I think we! to be. dead. for the test of your life.” Pappy was right. Life is ** Now,” said the Inventor, ‘‘I will place this Cocoon into this receptacle, and in a moment you will see what happens.” |, As he spoke, the young lady raised her glass to her lips. I immediately seized it and swallowed its contents myself. Then a | strange thing happened. I found myself suddenly emerging from | the Cocoon, to the surprise of both the Inventor and the audience. “* Done like that!” shouted Lixa Joxo, the well known Japanese Secret-discoverer, suddenly appearing on the stage. ‘* Not at all! See now, I will show you how it is done!” But at that moment the scene faded away, and I found myself in my own study with my head resting tranquilly in the coal-scuttle. How I got there—whether I was “ ” or not by the Inventor— is still a secret tome. But this was not the only thing that puzzled me. I could not understand the condition of the w | bottle. Before I left my study, I fancy, I say I fancy, it was nearly full— now, undoubtedly, it was quite empty! ————S New Version. | (By a Disgusted M.P.) I know no reason Why late in the Season [rot We're mustered to rage and talk REMEMBER, remember The Sixth of November? | Of course, for it can’t be forgot! | “Ts Lire wortn Livine?”—Pappy Layer gave a bob to avoid a | shot from the revolver. Only a bob! He got off cheaply. But, for five minutes than | certainly worth living—at that price. VOL. XCY. U

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218 _ PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [Novemper 10, 1888.

THE CHALLENGE: OR THE RIVAL CHANTICLEERS. a3 wen \ Ve y ZZ Mh, . BN } | Chet i vieesesaill! Y | Lit iil Wy Ye WW, j ttt ;

Grand Old Chanticleer ( fortissimo). Coe K-a-doodle-do-o-o ! Cock-a-doodle-do-o-0-o0 1! ! | Gather round me, hen-birds all—pretty Partlet crew! | Chorus of *“* Women’s Liberal Federation” Hens. Cackle! eackle! Grand Old Bird! Where’s the fowl dares tackle Such prodigious spurs and beak? Cackle! Cackle! Cackle! Grand Old Chanticleer. Ladies, thanks for your response to my stirring clarion. Fancy there's a business here I alone can carry on. Fighting Cocks are plentiful, game birds some are terming ’em, But I really think you need a change of breeds in Birmingham.

| But when a bird backs all his brood, Ss _s igre I< SZ ; LIS ft IO 4

4 s yy II Nim i ye Kept a little mite too much to one stock and brood, I think. Once = pce change, but you have changed your mood, I think. ‘* Crested Ch-mb-rl-ns”’ no doubt are a breed pugnacious ; Very valiant, vigoruus, vehement, vivacious. But one family of fowls may be overdone, Ladies. d Mean to challenge ’em myself, think we ’ll have some ous, Ladies. Want to rule the roost too much, the C. C.’s do. Monopoly | May do in serews, but not in fowl-rans—if I must talk shoppily. Jory C., as Cock o’the Walk, considerably plumes hi A Y wether think he dooms himself ; wes

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Novemagr 10, 1888.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. | Crested Ch-mb-rl-ns all crow loud, strut with much show abdominal ; | Some say that Joz’s supremacy is little more than nominal, | Even in crow and strut; though these he carries to excess, he [J esse. Has rivals in his brood, who are not all as meek as However, that ’s mere local cackle, though good K-nR-cx —come! a gem !— | Tells me that complaints of this are not confined to | Brummagem. ’ [RicHarp, Still I’m here to fight Big Jox, not Avusriy, nay, nor | ] into him, he into me, are pretty sure to pitch hard, When . does come to fighting. Ladies, I am game to tackle On his own walk that Chanticleer! Chorus of “* W. L. F.” Hens (effusively). O lovely! Cackle! Cackle!!! Brummagem Bantam. | Well, it’s like his impudence! And on my own walk, too ! But I'll beat the Old Bird yet, and by a long chalk, too! He talk of mag pl Well, that’s really queer ; He who’d rule all roosts alone, Grand Old nticleer ! Well, I ‘ll fight him! As for you, poor Partlet-Chorus— pooh ! They shall find that two can play at Cock-a-doodle- do-o-o ! (Makes ready. A Nice Loox-ovr ror Lonpoyw.—The Standard is delighted that the Duke of Westminster has bee appointed Lord Lieutenant of the County of London, because he will ** bridge over the gulf between the old régime and the new.” Let us hope that the new West- minster Bridge will prove a success—come up to the “Standard,” in fact. But one Duke will not make a London om Council, and this “‘ gulf,”’ according to Mr. Hamen’s letter in the Zimes, may be, after all, a bottomless pit of Bumbles and Blackmailers, wide and dark indeed, beyond even the possibilities of ‘‘ filling up,” suggested by the heroic self-sacrifice of a Ducal Curtius. Nae hopes that this Hamer hits wide as well as ard. “EDUCATION, OR STARVATION?” _[The poor child attended in Court herself, was fined two-and- sixpence for not having attended school when she was nursing her father, and then burst into tears, saying that the only mone she had they wanted at home for bread.— Vide Daily Telegrap Report, Now. 3.) Epvcatiow Is vexation, But Starvation ’s worse. Can School-Board be With fine and fee Earning the poor man’s curse ? GETTING ALONG NICELY. In its Dramatic and Musical column, last Friday, the Daily Telegraph informed the world that Mr. WiLson i Barrett ** without assist- . ance, has both constructed . and written a play called ow-a-days.” v. B. is ** getting a big boy now!” Fancy being able to write a play without assistance ! And what was the *‘ assist- ance” he received before this daring effort? Why, according to the same authority, itwas Mr. Hatt Carne. So when he got free of this Carvg,—which has always been a tutor’s , assistance,—little Master ' Wirson Bakrerr pro cured pens, ink, = mA paper, and wrote a y; An Impressionist. Ml by himself ! When little boys get hold of the pens and ink, they generally make a nice mess of it; but we are sure Master WILson | ihe good boy, and Ae won’t do anything of that sort, er FAMILY JARS. Joan. *‘TuHe 10BAR OF Susan's askin’ Jonn TO WILLIAM’s FUNERAL, AFTER THE WAY 'E’D BEYAVED! I SHOULDN'T CERTAINLY EVER DREAM OF ASKIN’ 'IM To Yours!” Darby. ‘Waar! Tuen att J CAN SAY OFFENDED IF YOu pipy'r/” 1s, I SHOULD BE VERY MUCH THE NEXT DIPLOMATIC INCIDENT. Letter from —— Smith, Esq., to British Minister, Dear Barrisn Mixister,—I am an Englishman who has become an American and want to know which way I ought to vote at the present crisis. I reckon may take it that this change of front on the part of present Government is all bamboozle. That is so! Post me up on the right side of the rails. I calculate I can influence a lot of votes, to get them put, bedad, to the credit of the unspeakable Saxons! Hurroo! rin go Sail y Yours respectfully, (Signed) Suiru, Esa. Telegram from British Minister to —— Smith, Esq. I think you ought to vote for the present Government, as I fancy that after the Election is over the good sense which has ever been the characteristic of the present President will once more become apparent. As you are personally unknown to me (although of course your name is perfectly familiar to me), I have taken the precaution to pay a small additional sum to have this telegraphed to you with the words ‘‘ Strictly private” added to the message. Cablegram from Minister to Premier. Very awkward this telegram of Minister. Well-intentioned, but ill-timed, Please do something. Cablegram from Minister to Premser (an hour later). Have sent Minister his passports. Cablegram from President to Premier (an hour later). Have ordered Minister to be off at once. Cablegram from President to Premier (an hour later), Sending out declaration of war by next mail. Cablegram from President to Premier (an hour later). At Cabinet Council just held decreed the immediate annexation of Canada and Australia, and the speedy invasion of India. Cablegram from President to Premier (a week later). Election over. Pulled it through. Countermanded annexation and invasion, Sorry Minister has gone. Give him my kind regards. Calculate you may con sider this incident at an end.

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| dramatists have made a consci- | entious attempt at burlesquing | though, whether in dialogue or | | PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL [Novempsr 10, 1888, “FAUST GAIETY.” Ow the third night of its existence I saw the new burlesque of Faust at the Gaiety. Faust up to Date is not Faust upto Muc Such as it is, it has taken two distinguished Adelphi melodramatists, Messrs. Perrrrt and Sis, to do it. Clearly the melodramatists are dissembling. The Extravagant Travesty plays two hours and three- quarters, and is therefore about two hours too long. Here and there the two dissembling melo- some of the principal situations in the Opera and drama. Occa- sionally there are some good lines, as there ought to be in the course of two hours and three-quarters, in song, it seemed to me that the utterance of only Miss Sr. Joux, Mr. Lowwen, and Mr. Srone was distinct. There is nothing remarkably amusing in the First Act, which, however, is the better of the two ; but in the Second Act, there is a dance of four girls, all alive and kicking, which is more effective from its eccentricity than its grace; and i there is the now inevitable Irish song for Lonwen, of which a Mr. Martrn is announced as the writer and composer, the talented authors of the burlesque having, as I suppose drawn the line at “‘a rival” and “‘ar-rival,” or at “flying being a matter of u-pinion,” Patron of the Drama {fe and Mrerer Lom, composer of the music of Boz - office- keeper concea the extravaganza, being unwilling to enter “i‘+#™). “I say, is the second for an Irish jig competition. Be this as it *t better than the first? may, the Martin-Lonnen song, which is not (Sedly-) ae bap Gaaeng brought in till just before the finish, as a ™ een. bonne bouche, is not a patch upon ‘‘ Killaloe ;” but to see the chorus- men seriously marking the time on each other’s heads with their shillelaghs, after the fashion of ‘‘The Two Macs,” is very funny, and a hit, ‘or several hits,” as the Dissemblers would say. e music is poor, and affords little opportunity for FLoreyce St. Jonn or for anybody else. Mr. Stowe, who appears as Valentine, may probably be—as the dissembling melodramatists nightly jointly observe—a precious Stone, only requiring a better setting to display his real brilliancy; but those who remember M. Mrimer as the burlesque Valentine in Le Petit Faust,—an opéra bouffe full of fun and sparkling melody,—will be inclined to regret either that the English low comedian has never seen that performance, or, if he has, that he has not sufficiently profited by it. By the time this notice appears, improvements may have been made in the piece. After the First Act, I overheard a Masher laintively inquiring at the pigeon-hole of the Box-office, ‘‘ Is the decond Act ny better than the first?’’ What the invisible official’s answer to this was I could not catch, but the complainant, in a deeply injured tone, went on, ‘* Look here, there’s no dancing in the First Act, don-cher-no.” I suppose he received some comforting assurance on the subject from the hidden oracle, the veritable Jack-in-the-Box- Office, as further observation made he none, but with his hand on his swelling shirt-front, returned, struggling with suppressed emotion, to his stall. Gaiety Man ent ought to know how to cater for Gaiety Masherdom: “‘ plent of ‘ caper’ sauce,” as the dissembling Adelphian melodramatists would say, together, of course. _ Yet when that bright particular star of burlesque, the inimitable NELLIE FaRReN, is absent from the Gaiety, the gaiety of its patrons seems to be eclipsed. What a “little, Dr. Faust” she was, when Terry was the Me- >. 4 phistopheles, and Kate Vavenan the red ( elegant Marguerite! I hope, for the sake of Mashers and Management, it may not turn out that There 's nae luck about the house, There ’s nae luck at a; There ’s nae luck about the house When our own Neu’s awa’, Yes, in her absence the Gaiety Faust seems but forced gaiety, after all, jalighes at least by the present effort, says, with incorrect pronunciation, R oO: : C3 ' ' Jack-In-THE Box. ’.S.—In my criticism on the Dean’s Daughter, a i ht ago, I referred to Mr. F. C, PuIcrrs as the ‘Author of Ariane. Mrs. Cam BELL PRaeD wrote Ariane. But there is a strong similarity of cha- racter in the two heroines, with neither of whom should we feel any * thy. As Cuartes James Fox wrote,—‘‘It has been thought us tothe morals of mankind, even in fiction and /romance, to make us sympathise with characters whose general , | conduct is blameable.” Hear! hear! And as I could not imagine anyone is with Ariane, or with any of the dramatis per- sone, 80 | did not consider that play as dangerous to morals. “the point of this here remark lays in the application of it,” as was comparing the moral effect of the two plays, and not their literary or dramatic merits.—J. I. T. B. VOCES POPULI. AT A NORTH BRITISH HYDROPATHIC, Scene—An immense Drawing-room, lighted by numerous gas- burners, and furnished on a scale of imposing spl . tris after dinner ; tea and coffee have just been ser in the corridor outside, and persons of more luxurious habits have brought in their cups to sip at leisure. On settees in the centre sit middle- aged Ladies in , red, and white woollen shawls, each politely admiring the other’ s work. Very young Ladwes whisper and laug in the window-seats, all about nothing, and exhibit the liveliest affection for one another. Others converse, not unconscious of the distinction, with the exceptional Young Men who have donned evening dress, and who glide about with an agreeable air of feeling perfectly at home. People who don’t know a in chairs, perusing ‘‘ The Hotels of Europe,” or anything else they can get hold of, and wondering why other people are so unsociable. A stout old ly in a corner is discoursing to a meek little old Maid, in a strong Yorkshire accent, which from time to time compels the unwilling attention of everybody in the room, The old Lady’s husband endeavours in vain to catch her eye from the background, as her threaten to become of an alarmingly intimate nature. In the foreground, two Visitors have just discovered a bond of sympathy in the fact that neither of them has found Scotch scenery quite what he expected. First Visitor (delighted). You weren’t much impressed with the Kyles of Bute? You don’t say so! Now that really is very curious —no more wasI! Now, Loch Lomond is certainly rather pa (as if he did not wish to turn its head)—bits of it, you know. But the Trossachs—what are the Trossachs, after all? Second V. Exactly. (Feeling that this settles the Trossachs.) What are they ? And then some people tell you Glencoe’s so mag- nificent—I went through it in a pouring rain, and all I can say is—I couldn’t see anything in the place! and look at Staffa and Iona—why, to hear some people talk—— ‘ : First V. (ina lerpo-duintied way). Well, I didn’t think Iona was so bad myself, I must say —— j : Sec V. Ah, perhaps you’re a good sailor, now I’m always ill on any steamer-—— : i The Yorkshire Lady (in a slow ruminating voice). An’ so ah said to ma husband, “Ah doan’t loike to cloime oop on them ‘cherry boonks,’ as they cahl them, it may be vara noice,” ah said, * when ya git oop, but if ah was oop, ah’d hev to coom daown agéan.” An soe husband sez to me, ‘‘ Doan’t ya be sooch a blethrin owd ”—— Her Husband drops a book in the background. A Young Lady who likes Excitement (to one of the agreeable Young Men in Evemng Dress). Oh, Mr. Torcxter, don’t they ever do an here ? r. Torckler. Oh, yes, I’m going to ask that lady in the blue spectacles to sing in a minute, and there’s somebody in the house somewhere, who will play the flute, if you go the right way to manage him. The Y. L. (pettishly). Oh, I didn’t mean that—I meant get up something. . . A Solitary Stranger (seizing the tunity of speaking to some- body). If you’re fond of climbing, there’s a very nice mountain in te Vee yen ean get up it easily in three hours, and it’s only eight miles The Y. L (seiffy). Oh, thank on very much. (Zo Mr. T.) I mean get up a ce, © an ng! An Habituse, Ah, you should have been here the week before last, when the house was full! There was something going on every evening in the Recreation Room—theatricals, dumb-crambo, thought reading, and I don’t know what all—such fun we had! . The Y. L. (coldly). Really? (Jo Mr. T.) But why couldn’t we dress up, or something ? __ _[Faguely. Mr. T. (doubtfully). Well, there’s not much point in dressing-up unless you do something when you are up, is there? — The Y. L. (who be quite satisfied with the mere dressing-up). I su not. Well then, we might dance. r. T. (who doesn’t dance, but would recite if anybody were to ask him). Not enough men. , The Y. L. Oh, some C Ge pte-fo le she means the other girls)—can dance with one er. Do propose a dance. r. Torckler (di cally), Er—well, I must find out what people think about it before proposing anything, you know. (Cirew-

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— | Novewmn 10, 1888.) PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 221

——

body asking how the Autumn Session is likely to turn out. ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. Put simple question toSrea KER ; answers it satenhe doesn’t a require notice, but gives a simple, absolutely safe answer. THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. Shall know now what to say when anybody asks me. House of Commons, Tuesday Morning, Nov. 6.

DOWN ON DONNELLY ; Or, Crushing the Cryptogram. “‘ The Sonnets present evidence for SuaAksPRARneE’s authorship like the links of chain-mail in an armour of . And the man who wrote the Sonnets must also have the Poems and Plays. This can be established by those principles of scien- tific demonstration that have been applied to in the present work. The same unlearned man wrote both! Then the secret history in the Sonnets is in agreement with the public history of the time, and both are in antipodal antagonism to the Great a. = Mr. Gerald Massey, in his new edition of “ The Secret Drama of Shakapeare’s Sonnets,.”” A port on the Poet! That should herald A real Champion’s advent, Go it, Grratp! Punch puts it pleasantly in the vernacular, For only owls and humbugs ape the oracular Ienatrvs now, the ‘‘ Moon- er” e frantic, Who hunts for mare’s-nests under the Atlantic, ‘ And Smaxspeare’s text, is naturally stilted, E_missa ad mensam; \from| But under Massgy’s mace he must have wilted Probate Court to Westminster,| Like the pricked bladder that he is. Yes, go it! which is quite another thing.| A poet, sure, da pow my brief in Parne You show ’twas SHAKsPEARE, he who sweetly sonneted, ease, All very well for young} Who wrote the Plays,—and Dowwetty is bonneted ! fellow like Cuantes Russet} Your monumental book’s a trifle bulky to slave all day in Probate| (Five hundred pages turn some critics sulky, Court and toil all night at} My massive Masser), but ‘tis full of ‘‘ meat,” Westminster. But he hasn’t} And sown with Song as musculine as sweet. been in collar since A.D. 1841. Mellifluous echoes of the master-rhymes, Looked in at Speaker’s Court| Whose music filled the Great Armada times, this morning, to pay ts| Three centuries since, and still moves heart and brain <j to Speaker. In excellent} More than the pogeantries of press Lane. as health and ome ; has had} ‘Tush! none but minstrels’ like of sonneting,” a rest, and ready for work.| Sings SHaxsreaxe’s self with an ironi ound him, by way of re Minstrels at ry gh mmm of ay for or the Great Quest noon, blocking his own wig. After the Secret of the Sonnets, these | ‘The only measure—7§ in. x 1l—one in my position can block,” he said,| May dip and taste where there’s so much to please gently touching one of the curls. Both student bee and social aunty : ‘* Going to have a quiet time, Sir, do you think?” I asked. Whilst aii will track with grateful heart and eye ‘‘ Well, that depends,” he said, slowly. ‘‘ We may and we may not.” This| Your slaughtering of that colossal Sham very interesting. Nothing like going to head-quarters for information. Every-| Egregious Donneiy’s Great Cryptogram !

— A AN, ——-_ of businessthatopens this after-| Who have not time or heart

| lates at as wide a radius from her as possible, while she endeavours | The Y. M. (prudently, after looking through her music). 1 think, to find out from the expression of those he addresses, their willing- \if you wouldn’t mind singing ‘‘ The Better Land" ness to dance or otherwise—an object in which she might be more [ She is disappointed, but sings it, without interrupting either the success ful if he were mentioning the subject at ail.) reading or the plat oy The Yorkshire Lady (as before). An’ ah went straight hoam, an’| The Yorkshire Lady (speaking through music). 80 ah said to th’ | ah poot on a moostard pleaster, bahk an’ front, an’ next moarnin’ | Doactor, ‘‘ Doactor, 4 want you to tal ma joost wheer it is ah’m boath ma legs wur ahl swelled oop loike [An agonised expression | sooffrin’—is it ma loongs,” ah said, ‘‘ or ma chest, or ma——~” | in her hearer’s face warned her to lower her voice at this point. The Singer (with solemn feeling). ‘‘ Not there—not they-ere, my Another Young Man, in Evening Dress, approaches a group of | che-ild!” (Song concludes amidst faint and absent-minded applause. Young Ladies. | The Young Lady who likes Excitement (to herself). That's over, All the Young Ladies (coquettishly). Now you mustn’t come here, | thank Goodness! There’s plenty of time for a dance still, if they | Mr. Parrte—you are such a dreadful tease! You must promise to | only make haste. I’m sure I can hear some one playing a Waltz in | behave if we let you stop. [Zhey make room for him with alacrity.|the Recreation Room. What are they waiting for? (Two Men The Y. M. (taking a Novel, with an elegant carelessness). Is this| enter, and look around inquiringly), Have they come in to find very pathetic ? | partners ? Then there is dancing! (The two Men bring out a chess- The Owner of the Novel. I won’t have you making fun of it—it’s | cad and — to play). ... Pigs! (Mr. Tonex after con- lovely. 1’ ve wept pints over it! I left off just at the most exciting | versing confidentially in various quarters, goes out with Mr. Partie.) part. I’m dying to know how it goes on—I should be reading it | They ’re going to arrange about it at last! (Waits hopefully Sor now if I didn’t want to finish this sock. [ Knits calmly. | some time—the lively young Ladies collect their work, and go out too), The Y. M. (to Vocalistie Young Lady), Aren’t we to have a/Oh, those girls are going now. I'd better ask someone, perhaps. song this evening ? ‘ | (Creceina, to ya you know where those gentlemen in The Voe. Y. L. How can you ask me? Why, you know how I | evening dress have gone ; baw broke down last night ! 4 hd po hen 1 heard them say something about a game of billiards, The Y. M. (gallantly), Well, I’d rather hear you break down than | and a cigar. F other petsie uid Tnow that. “ The ¥. L. (blankly). Oh (hopefully), but all those young ladies— Proud Mother (from Provinces). There’s my daughter here will | where have they gone tor ' | be happy to sing if you like to ask her—she’s had a first-rate teach-| Matron, The young ladies? Oh, they’ve gone to bed—we keep ing ; and people who know what good singing is, tell me—— early hours here, you know. , The Daughter (in modest confusion). How can you go on 80, e Yorkshire Lady. An’ he gave ma a perscreepshun abl fooll Mamma? You’ll make the gentleman think tm something | o’ things that ah wasn’t to tedk. Ah moos’n’t eat bréad, an’ ah wonderful! (She is induced to consent to sing.) Well, what will you | moosn’t eat potéatoes, nor oad mooffins, nor tea-ciak, nor no have? I’ve got “* Only the Moon and Thee, Love!” (looking up | nor swéats (meditatively)—boot ah niver wur a swéat edter—ah niver under her eyelashes)—some of my songs are rather soft—and there's | wur thot! And 80 on.) (Drawing-room gradually empties, till the * Say but One Word, and Iam Thine!” (archly)—that’s a bint | Yorkshire Lady ws le me with the old Maid, who throws in to some of you y tlemen! Will you have that? Or this is|an automatic “ Yes at intervals, and wonders if it will be rude to & pretty one—‘‘ One Kiss, and then—we Part!” say she is rather tired.

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARIL. [Novemszr 10, 1888, f OUR Persecuted Fair One ( pettishly THE AUTUMN MERT. \ Howtrye Sone ror THe Sr. Sreruen’s Season, Atrn—‘‘A Southerly Wind and a Cloudy Sky.” M.F.H. sings :— A NonpEscripr wind and November sky Look queer for a hunting morning. But the Meet is fixed, and away we hie, Loved leisure and liberty scorning. To horse, my lads, to horse, away ! The chase eimits of no delay. ’n horseback we ’ve got, ther we ’|| trot. Though if J see the need of it, may I be shot !) More spouting forbear, see the cover appear ! rhe pack ’s a mixed lot, and the country is queer.) Drag on him! Ah, wind him, my good, steady hounds That sounds like full faith, but I fear with faint grounds.) If only the cover and furze they will draw, I'll envy not Barry or Maywett; But Lapsy cares little for good canine law, Wild Writ is the plague of the kennel. When away we hy, some puppies may halt, Some strike a false trail and the pack put at fault. Will they cast round the Schoolhouse far out of our track ? To the old Shamrock Spinney essay to try back ? Shall we hear a hound challenge in Sackville Sedge, Or take us full tilt o’er ** Diplomacy ” hedge ? *‘Hark forward! Hark forward!” Oh, bother the noise! Keep em straight if you can, Surrn, then “‘ at it, brave boys!’ A stormy sky surcharged with rain The chance of good sport opposes. In the mettle of some of the pack trust is vain, And J haven't much faith in their noses. Each moment now the sky grows worse ; Enough to make bland B-Lr-z curse. If they'll pick the ground we would take them through, All’s well; but if not, there is mischief a-brew. Elderly Masher (who can't see that his attentions are unwelcome), ‘I'm suRE You RE FOND or Music/” . “OH—YES—VERY—WHEN IT PUTS A sTop TO CoyveRsATION/” Wee BARS Ir If we can but get on, we ’ll make some of them quake. Let us hear the hounds challenge, and in the right brake, Tally ho! Tally ho! then, across the clear plain. Tally ho! ‘Tally ho, boys! Have at him again! We must ride, whip and spur, for, I hope, a short chase ; Our horses all panting and sobbing. Young Madcap and Riot will soon want to race ; I fancy we'll have some rare mobbing. But hold,—alas! they ’ll spoil our sport, If they over-run or head him short. Clap round him, dear Brit, and if some of the pack, Like Random, go hotly, hark back! hark back! Some will see a fresh quarry in every bush ; If you let ’em run wild, we shall ne’er get the brush. Who-hoop! who-hoop! I’d give many a crown If the fox we are after were fairly run down ! CUTTINGS TRANSPLANTED. Tas came out of the Bristol Times and Mirror, October 29 :— JS ges - most centrally-situated, CLIFTON, to be LET, with a per- manent Gentleman Lodger, who will remain if desired (or for SALE). Rather hard on the Lodger, unless, like every other man “‘ he has his price,” and can pocket the p: for his own benefit. This is idyllic, out of the Stamford Mercury :— OUSE-PARLOURMAID wanted. Must be thoroughly fitted and recom- mended, defty and debonair. Man-servant kept. helor’s house. ‘“‘Defty and debonair!” Quite Miltonian. Appropriate too in the pages of a Mercury interesting himself in looking out for a Hebe. ‘* Bachelor’s House.” Alas! poor Bachelor! Nore sy Lorp Gor-rae-Sackvit_e.—The American Bayarp may be “‘ without fear,” but he’s not ‘‘ without reproach.” Mrs. Ram says the fogs affect her severely, and she’s afraid her cold will turn to comic Bronchitis. el a] - ’ 4 ie = - - = = ”

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.—Novemsper 10, 1888. ryy y ry T | TY ] y te THE AUTUMN MEET. Huntrsmax. “* MORNIN’, M’ LORD!” | His Lorpsanre. **‘ MORNING! YOU ’VE GOT A MINED LOT IN THE PACK, SMITH,—AND A DIFFICULT COUNTRY ;—HOPE YOU ’LL KEEP ’EM WELL TOGETHER *

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NovVEMBER 10, PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 225 A PARTHIAN SHOT. Examiner. ‘‘THANK You, Mr. Jonzgs! I’M AFRAID IT ISN'T NECESSARY TO TROUBLE YOU ANY FURTHER. GOOD MORNING.” Plucked One (who has at all events read his Nineteenth Century). ‘‘ AM, IT’S ALL VERY WELL; BUT THEY'LL BE EXAMINING YOU PRESENTLY—AND SEE HOW You'LL Likg ir/ Goop MORNING.” ROBERT ON THE NEW LORD MAYOR'S SHO. Wett, I suttenly did think that, ewen in these times of uniwersal mokery and irrewerence, there was jest a few things as might reesonably be xpected to remane sacred from the profain touch of the ribald gester, and fust and foremast among ’em was the hancient, the time-honnerd, the truly gorgeus festival of Lord Mare’s Sho! But no, I was rong for wunce, and I confesses it in sackcloth and hashes ; that is to say, I am sure as I wood, if so be as I knowd how to get through that werry gritty an skrunching seremony. But then, of coarse, I did not make proper elowance for the ordassity of a Gent who combines in Lis own sollem p rson such a strange wariety of karacters as a Hem Pea, a Barrow Night, a ollytishun, a Joker, and a Tea Toteller ! And what a hordience Sir Wi11am Lawson selecks to adress on so him- portant and hinterestin a subjeck! What can a lot of mere Wesmorland Voters kno or care about Lord Mare’s Sho? Why, less than even he does— and how much is that? Why he acshally tells his pore hignorant lisseners, and xpecs them to bleeve him, that it is the custom to have in the sacred Sho camels, and bufferlows, and ellefants, and jackasses, and men in armer, and tom-fools, a marching about! What a minglin of the subblime and the ridicklus! Elefants and Men in Armer on the one , and Jackasses and Tom Fools on the other! My curiossity is naterally xcited to kno who he could have meant by the jackasses and tom foo!s; but I naterally refranes from persuing the dellicate inquiry too fur. leaving his discripshun of the Sho, I passes on to his ludickrus acount of the we rry grandest bankwet as takes place in the old City, as is so notorious for em. Woud it be bleeved that so wuntededl is his hutter hignorance on these himportant matters, that he acshally describes the Ero of the nite as being serrounded with Torys and Turtels! Torys and Turtels! What a singlar com- binashun! Torys, the bo hideal of humane wisdom and wirtue, and Turtels, the bo hideal o mr oy and happytising food ! , : _ But only to think of the witty water-drinker’s hutter hignorance of igh-class Wittels, as well as of igh-class dri Why he acshally seams to fansy as that | Turtels is brort on table at dinner, all hole, like Tur and such small | to what ‘‘a Nurse’s Ah, what a rewelashun it will be to him sum day when he fust tastes Ree: Turret Sour! I halmost henveys him his grand sensashun. I admires his awdassity much more than his good taste as to the halterations he boldly wentures to suggest in the d percesshun, and from what I ears, here and there, I don’t think as there ain’t werry much chance of there being adopted. What mere rubbish to have a picter of Mr. Goscuen hoffering Lord Sorntsperry a blank check! Wot’s the use of a Siank check, I shood like to know, to Lord Sorusperry or to anyboddy helse? If the Chanceseller of the Xchecker had a bin shown a-hoffering of him a five pun note for hisself, there woud be sum sense in it, and in spite of his estonish- ment at a pressept from sitch a quarter, his Lordship woud probberly have accepted it with rapshure. And then only fansy a doing away with the thrillin and awe-enspirin site of no less six reel Men in Armer, all brort from the Tower of Lundun, by the permission of H.R.H. the Dook of CamEnrrper, to . the mob in order, and substitootin for ‘em Mr. Wicxre Cottins a milkin a Cow in a werry large feeld! Why the thing’s too ridickulus to ewen dream about, tho I confesses as I do have sum rayther rum uns sometimes, ‘speshally after a werry scrumpshus bankwet. Howewer, —_ I spose, in what Amlet calls his mind-your-eyes, that, in a Persesshun in the werry richest City in the hole World, sumthink like splender woud be looked for, he no to have, next to the Cow-milking seen, a Gilded Carrage; all werry right and werry p r, says ewerybody of taste; but he must have a nice idear of the size of a Gilded Carrage, for it is to contane not ony Mr. Jox CHampEerLine— as he werry irreverently calls the fashnable Member for Brummagem—but he is to have with him a lot of Dooks and Dutchesses, and Publicans, and Archbishups, and Brewers ! Why, wot nonsense! Why, ewen a large penn Homnibus woodn’t hold’em! And wot a way in which to s of the werry hiest horders of the Nobility, Dooks and Dutchesses, and Archbishups, and the most usefullest of all our Mannyfacterers, Brewers and Pub- licans ; wiz., to tork about a /ot of ’em, as if they was to be put up and nocked down at a Hoction! ut a truce to all this ribaldry and werry watery wit, at witch I confesses as I cea to be surprized when wunce I learnt that its Orthur had never tasted reel Turtel Soup, on the one hand, and never now knowed wot it wos to Brink a glass of generous old Port, or ewen jest a wee drop of reel Scotch Whiskey, on the other. Poor old Gennelman! we must, of coarse, make ewery posserble alowance for him under the pecooliar circum- stanses of his werry sad case. Ropexrt. Mot by a Midlothian Unionist. (Mr. GLapstows, writing to Mr. Hormes Ivony, Hon. Sec. of the Midlothian Liberal Association, speaks hopefully of the prospects of Home Rule in the Constituencies) : Iw such optimist dreams though you seem to believe, To a Scholar like you is it needful to state, My dear Wri, that it is the dreams that deceive Which pass through the Jvory gate’ Nursery Tatx.—A discussion has been going on as sition” should be. Doesn't her position depend on that of y= = or the baby? ‘A Private Nurse” writes to Hospital to ask—Is it a rule for a Private Nurse to take her meals in the kitchen? Certainly not, if the custom of Mrs. Gamp and Betsy Prig is still of any authority. But perhaps those good old days are gone for ever; but Gamps and Prigs never demeaned themselves by taking their meals in the kitchen. To Sir Polydore de Keyser. Weut, “‘ Every equ have his day,” And every Lord Mayor too ; But when his day is done, he may, In all “‘ the beauty of De-K.,” Become a Knight, like you. New Serrive or aw OLD Saw.—You cannot touch 1} * La Terre” without being Soil’d.

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a, [Novemper 10, 188. thy | A a. ee L, eT at a ae i) | (| Hi) AW ~. S 3 if" ; iN i{l Mh: = ih Be olthee ss Sellemaka J, inv) ow vaidh ge ia» ae pa ae --" PARLIAMENTARY. Pedestrian (in a hurry), “Hi! ‘Give you Five Saitirnes To cet Me TO WESTMINSTER BY TWELVE o’cLocK.” Cabby. ‘On, You MAY CoRRUPT Mz, Srp. JuMP IN, Hoss'’s Vorg, WE MAY CARRY IT!” Iv WE CAN ONLY SECURE THIS OLD OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. A Votvme of Issen’s Plays (belonging to ‘the Camelot Series,” of whose existence I am hereby made aware) has been lent me a simple trusting friend. The good simple soul has written his name in the fly-leaf, with a date; but there is sufficient space to write above his signature:—‘* To my dear friend the Baron de Bookworms, from his sincerely attached,” and here will come in, quite neatly and appropriately, his own name in his own handwriting. I have only had time to — the first two plays, The Pillars of Society, and (fhosts. The first of these, until the middle of the Second Act, is troublesome i the dialogue being diffuse, commonplace, and the stage-directions ridiculous. But when interest really commences, and the reader is on speaking terms with the various characters, then, as the story is gradually worked out, the plot proves to be as strong as the characters are original. Properly condensed and well acted, it ought to be a powerful play, for which able exponents should be found on the English stage. The translation is evidently truthful and very close, but the hand of a practical playwright is needed to put it into proper form. It is a pure-minded, manly-spirited, noble play, pointing a moral without any cant of PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. ———.. a goody- iness. Nor is it deficient material for _ low comedy or eccentric character, without which it is difficult fo the best intentioned play to be anything by a burden to the most sympathetic and patient audience. The dramatic possibilities in Th, Pillars of Society are great, but the play as it stands certainly would not do for the stage, and the bald translation makes it ; tedious study taken as literature. As to Ghosts, the second play, the trans. lation here given may be close, but th ialogue is even more diffuse than in Tk Pillars, and it is pointless, and irrita. tingly wearisome to read. Here and ther a situation in the painfully repulsive | story is undoubtedly dramatic, yet, as a| play, whether for an English audience o any other, I sincerely hope its production | is impossible. The subject could be power. | - — in a Charles- e-ian novel: ut it uires the touch of a master hand | to adorn the pitiful tale, and point the moral. | | So, on consideration, I shall not inscribe my | name on the fly-leaf, but shall return the book to my friend to prove to him that he has not shown misplaced confidence in his friend, | and then he will more valuable book to the honest BALLADS OF TO-DAY. “ONE AT A TIME.” AHeaviiy through the Casino The fumes of the roses float ; Heart of my heart! How could he know She had come by the tidal-boat ? As stiff as a royal merino, Or the fur of the sea-side goat ? (Andante hideoso.) He was far too ugly to care And Beauty her shrieks would smother, And Valour forget to swear, For he was a famous Poet, And rich and debonair. (Tempo di Valse.) ** One at a time, love, one at a time! Ever he murmured the old sweet rime ; One at a time, love ; fair is fair, Haro! and motley’s the only wear !” (Puffo ma non troppo.) And he leaned from the lush Casino, And scanned the sounding sea ; Like the salt of a fruitless Eno It cream’d with a mocking glee, Or moaned like the Moning Congou At a foggy Five o’Clock Tea. They play’d at the little horses, But little of them reck’d he, And the moon in her crescentrie, And his pulses reserv’d their forces, For there in the dusk was She! ( Twingiamente.) And the vacant space where his heart had Throbb’d with a fancied pain, [place As the phantom boot on a long-lost foot Wakes bygone griefs again. ( Maestoso giocoso.) There’s a lonely tomb where surges boom And the griddering pebbles grind,— But he dances on one and the other, He is far too ugly to mind. ‘* One at a time, love, one at a time, Softly he murmurs the sweet, old rime: One at a time, love ; fair is fair, Haro ! and motley’s the only wear.” end another and | Baron pe Boox-Worms, | By Bungham Down, And he danced on one and the other, As he yearn’d for the stars in their courses i |

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| Novewsun 10, 1888.) PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL. ——— OUR JAPANNERIES. rz a Pe a FA €;, - 2 > A ky ‘ > i COURT UP FOR LUNCH. THE PARNELL COMMISSION, (Special Report. ) Tuesday.—JoserH Griiis has taken somebody else’s seat this morning. It’smine. Has ‘“‘ called” himself to the Inner Bar, and He sits with us. +) ~ he’ll be donning wig and gown presently. ere he sits all day. Pretty to see him, as the shadows lengthen, lay re head on Lockwoop’s broad shoulder and sweetly sleep. Some- ‘hing weighing on his mind. Moments of abstraction when he sits gazing afar. Once heard something like a sigh. , Anything oe wrong ?” I ask. Not yet,” he says. ‘‘ But I’m afeard. _— Do you think, when I get into the witness-box and they examine me about my visit to Paris in the spring of 1882—‘ in the spring, a young man’s fancy,’ don’t you know—do you think anything will come out about private affairs?” ** Do you mean,” I said, ‘‘ will they want to know anything about that little affair with the widow, that let you in for breach. of promise case ¢”’ “Well, you needn’t put it quite that way, Tony; but that’s somewhere about it. You know all about legal procedure. Will the Judges let the ArronneY-GENERAL go into that matter?” “* I fancy they will,” I said. ‘* But 1’ll look up the authorities. Haven't got your Coke upon Littleton in your waisteoat pocket, have your”

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“ SPE 228 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [Novempgr 10, 1889 ——= : ESE —_—

-- — a No, Joserm hadn’t; and him to be sitting with us of the Inner | Captain. Some signs of quailing at first. Strong disinclination 4, Bar! Tr Heaty turned up, but not in wig and gown. jmeet the four pair of gleaming eyes on Solicitors’ Bench. But ‘No,” said Tum, “‘ not going to stand in the way of Joserm G1LLis. | growing steadier under fire, the Captain fairly faces Sir Cuiz, Since he’s taken to the law, I take a back seat. He needs no assist- | Russet. Answers his searching, subtle questions, fully and frankly, ance.” So Tr sits on modest bench with the Solicitors, and pre- Thursday.—In the hands of the Police all day: Taken up by sently tackles the Judges. ; -_— P. C. Inwiw as soon as O’SHea had left the box. Su “T'm Mr. Heaty,” he says, when making an application on order | handed over to custody of P. C. O’Matiey. O’Smea just | we of business. | to bring document signed by some eminent politicians meeting i

Brother Hanwen eo" | nods, as if that didn’t matter very much. | convenient public in Wardour Street, protesting against his exclusion Josern Grisis, who trie :

a fall with Brother Hawwes > | from politics. O’Saxa told me all about it. the guy ps **Mureureny took me there,” he said, “in four-wheeled cab, | been quiet for day | }jindfolded. Engaged cab by the hour. Drove round b Claphan | oe Encourag; af | Common, I believe, and so reached Wardour Street. Took bandag | T ——- °F | off my eyes when I entered the room. Rum lot, seen through tobacw.| IM, he — | smoke. Smell of lemon in whiskey. Somebody hit me on small of| attack. ys 4» | back with flat side of sword. Then I signed my name in red ink! — of i coat | they said it was blood). They all swore at PARNELL; said I onghy| ho ~ ¢ ~~ #8 | to be Chief-Secretary. I paid for drinks, put protest in my pocket, | i, . _ ; » his and came away. Nothing particular ever came of it; still we-| AMES do wit nat mean they—had very pleasant evening. But I advise you tok ~ mA t “ out of politics, Topsy. You never know what you'll be let in for,” | the h bed h ‘ld be Police Witnesses charming ay Bl 8 ly hi °| fellows, especially Inwiy. that Harn Janes, | Bett type of Irish peasant ; . ) | ge - looking, gentle - man- in picking out wy nered, shrewd, smiling, slyly ticular paragraphs, |} umorous, with elicious was chiefly | lead brogue. His conversation with soraen 5 — aon Cartes Russet. worth sit- os pubhe who read | ting a week in Court to hear. the newspaper Te-| There was a wide world of a0 he AP to eloquence in his way of saying “et 4 ot ing) ‘Sir Caarces.” Entreaty, un he ss + expostulation, hesitation, alac- at the future Ers- rity, doubt, assent, certainty, contra- KINE. A glance of | diction, and above all, wheedling, each mingled oe expressed in turn in rich mellifluous impatience = breathing of commonplace name. Rus- The Star. com, Galline his SELL fretted and fumed under iteration. forefinger as he has heard Mr. Jaggers used to do, lays down the | Oh deh call anc Sir Cuarces,” he law, and is himself promptly laid by the heels. ’ — 99 roth Pere: : said. ‘No, no, no says Brother H ANNEN, testily turning away. “Very well, Sir Caartes,” said That's all; only a monosyllable reiterated. But, how eloquent|ypwry “in softest cooing notes, as & with impatient disgust of Josern’s slightly incoherent and somewhat nurse might asathe @ restless ta fant malignant suggestion! Jory B. doesn’t try to catch the President's Policeman to Policeman succeeded eye again. Site and ruminates. ss «— g...:..| a8 Amurath to Amurath. Interesting Fell you what, Tony, said, ‘when we reach Civil Service | in its way but finally soporific. Brother st ates, shal ove t “iuce vote fo X 45 »). | . a? . ms ‘of Presid nt of Probate Court. What dsorthe mean with his| Day began to tekece 8 gincsier stage ; 7 ; , a jas the afternoon shadows lengthened. “he aia No, no, no’? On the whole, I’d rather have dealings with the | Presently his ehin sank on his breast The Close of Day. Speaker. | and he became profoundly engrossed in meditation on evidence. Wednesday. Appearance of Court distinetly changed this morn- |“ « 14», getting late,” said Locxwoop. ‘This is what we call the ing. Chamber crowded. Bar in full attendance and plainly 00 | elose of Day.” the alert. Panne tt, who is methodically as late as Harrineton, is actually in his place. Josepn Grits, descended from high estate on Q.C. Bench, humbly seated in Solicitors’ quarter. THE IDE AL G YURL ‘*Not nearly such a homely place as the House’ of Commons, , , ; ; Tosy,” he whispered, enviously eyeing my wig and gown. ‘Can (“ Woman’s work, what should it be but scrubbing furniture, dusting do anything I like there ; say what I please, at what length I like, walls, sweeping floors, helping with the a tick 4 9 en and sit where I think proper. Remember the time when House was dairy? ofessor Ruskin’s last ; and why doen't he stick to his last’) in Committee, and I sat in Speaker’s Chair, behind Courtngey? Be ‘* Mary, go and scrub the draw- | Oh, can this be the highest frut|

,

a pretty row here, I suppose, if, after luncheon, Judges came in and ing-room floor, {ehairs, of time, . | found me sitting in President's chair! But I will do it some day.| And dust the drawing-room| This bowed and wrinkled mai | | Jory B. is tough, dev’lish tough, as they Il find to their cost.” And make the kitchen stairs | This weather-beaten maid— Curtain drawn back. Judges enter; stand for a second in the| As clean as clean can be! A gruesome sight to see’ | | | : doorway ; Bar and audience rise with swift rustling noise; Judges| For so Professor Ruskin bids, | Was never horny-handed ploug?- bow, take their seats. Play about to begin ; subdued buzz of excite- whose word boy yet , ment. ‘* What is it?” I asked Sage of Queen Anne’s Gate, who is} Is law to you and me.” Had such a hand as she! look . . , , “ Cherches la femme !” he says. She was a Girton maiden, and her | They tried to find a mate for her, | Instinetively turn to look in direction of newspaper lady in black brain - but man, hat and hearse-plumes, forsaken by Josern. On the way eye falls| Wascrammed with: rnedlore,| But inconsiderate man, on familiar figure. It is he—I mean it’s Smea, (See Sage’s| With culture to the lip. But beauty-loving man joke now. Will laugh as soon as Court adjourns for luncheon. |, 40d physiologee! | _ Preferred another She’ be Daren’t do it before. Brother Hawwen says he won't have anyoue | But now she hoed potatoes, and at) And now that maiden may ¥) laughing in Court. night heardtocuss O’Sea in box all morning and far into afternoon. Doesn’t seem| Dead-tired home came she. Her Ruskr heartilee !

» like it; tone Fada mg in order the better to fees ordeal. Sut no use. In unbroken line below him sit old familiar friends. : : PaRwELL, pale-faced, haggard-looking, staring with reproachful| Paasvus ro THe Fore.—With what object are letters m a eyes; Davrrr, taking notes; Trx Heaty, speechless with anger;| puted handwriting ordered to be photographed ?—To bring and finally, Josep Gris, smiling a ghashly smile, and thinking of authorship to light. the days that are no more, when he went down to Galway, — 4 in | defiance of Pagwett, pulled O’Saxa’s hair and seratched his face. | Free Transtatton.—Quis custodiet spsos custodes ? “an A trying ordeal for the once débonnatre but now decidedly damaged | examine the Examiners?”

———— es,

CH NOTICE.— Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Priated Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, = in po -— hfrcrpenne > 9 uot even when accompanied by « Stamped aud Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper: Te

Page 15

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI—Novemezr 10, 1888.

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