Punch 1899-09-06: Vol 117

Page 1

—j}) F%

CHOCOLAT MENIER =. PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY. _—r—- a SEPTEMBER 6, 4 ‘ Ne a 3 “il its OF ik Su. Oe ™ RY NSN SIBY =: PUNCH OFFICE, 85, FLEET STREET, |

For eakfast Registered at the General*Post2Office as a Newspaper. ui 1) z WW a. Ww WwW c <= K a Ww Oo c a.

AR LONDON. , 275 GOLD MEDALS, &c. FRY'S conci8¥katen COCOA CONCENTRATED “The richest in flesh-forming and energy-producing constituents.”-—Dr. ANDRew WILSON, F.R.S.E., &e.

@@ NOTICE.—Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will not be returned unless accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper.

Page 2

a whee 8 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.—Sepremper 6, 1899. HE type from which “PUNCH” is now being printed has been | cast by the | WICKS ROTARY TYPE-CASTING. | | COMPANY, LD., 154-155, Blackfriars Road, S.E. SMOKE THE CELEBRATED “PIONEER” SWEETENED TOBACCO. KNOWN ALL OVER THE WORLD. RICHMOND CAVENDISH Co., Lro., AT THEIR BONDED WORKS, LIVERPOOL And retailed by all first-class tobacconists at home and abroad. BRACES | ONCE WORN—ALWAYS WORN. But aee that you get them. Unless the word ACARIC appears on the Buckles you are being deceived. Sent Post Free in Great Britain on receipt of P.O., 4s., to Ces at. Devor, P. Dert., 6, Purtipe Laser, Lo» E.C. Retailer n procure from all leading whol l ses f Wetcn, Maancerson & Co., Mvor I ) ae BLOCK sn 2 SAE ats ost ae ——PRESTOR SOLD .—— ALL CHEMISTS. TRY IT IN YOUR BATH SCRUBB’S ‘rc AMMONIA PLUID MARVELLOUS PREPARATION. Refreshing as a Turkish Bath. Invaluable for Toilet Purposes. Splendid Cleansing Preparation for the Hair. Removes Stains and Grease Spots from Clothing. CARI | “OMNE TEMPUS” | Hygienic CLOTH Substitute Price 1s. per Bottle. Ailays the Irritation caused by Mosquito Bites. Invigorating in Hot Climates. Restores the Colour to Carpets. Cleans Plate and Jewellery. Of all Grocers, Chemists, Etc. SCRUBB & CO., omnes Street, Lambeth, S.E. “HEAVIEST POSSIRLE PLATING ASE FOR MAPPIN & WEBB’S PRINCE’S PLATE. (Reop.) “HIGHEST ATTAINABLE QUALITY.” “UNEQUALLED FOR HARD WEAR." SAMUEL BROTHERS, L™ Sydenhum House, 65 & 67, LUDCATE HILL, LONDON, E.C. for Mackintosh. This Cloth is impervious to water but not to air. Much has lately been heard of the vous effects resulting loths that are water deleterious i s The Tempus" is abso’ from we Raw itt sehen & vuld in the slightest degre injure the wearer or the fabric. It is Absolutely WATERPROOF. » POROUS. » WELL FITTING. » INNOCUOUS. ODOURLESS, “OMNE TEMPUS” Coat (as sketch), Regd. 5 - FOR PHOTOGRAPHIC MARKSMEN. A Medium Mild Indian Cigar, 3d. each. Five Gold Medals. ‘FLOR DE Wholesome, Delightful, & Fragrant. OVERTIRED? Take a Bath to which a little CONDY’S FLUID HAS BEEN ADDED. The Invigorating Effect is Magical. AllS are wm/ertor. Insist on buying * CONDY’S FLUID.’ Of all Chemists and Stores at 1/= per bottle, stitute BEWLAY & CO., 49, STRAND, W.C. | | DINDIGUL’ THE No. 2 and No. 4 SPECIAL BULL’S-EYE KODAKS are cameras of the simple, ever- ready box-pattern, and require no unfolding when a photograph is to be taken. They take splen- did photographs—snap-shots or time exposures. No dark room is needed for changing the films. Prices £3 3s. and £4 4s. Particulars post free. KODAK, Limited, 43 Clerkenwell Road, London, E.C. Retail Branches: 60 Cheapside, E.C.; 115 Oxford St., W.; 171-173 Regent St. W. HO CAMERA IS A KODAK UNLESS MADE BY KODAK LIMITED. FORTNUM ¢ & MASON. By Appointment to The QUEEN and. H.R.H. The PRINC E OF WALES. SPECIALITIES FOR INVALIDS IN GLASS. CALVES FEET JELLY. BEEF JELLY. | TURTLE JELLY. CHICKEN JELLY. | CHICKEN BREASTS IN JELLY. Also | INVALID TURTLE SOUP in Tins. REAL BERMUDA ARROWROOT. } Bottles Champagne. Choice Old Brandy and Rum, 30 YEARS OLD. Lists on Application. FORTNUM & MASON, LTp., PICC ADILLY, W. 181, 182, 183, TOBACCO | COLDEN | BRONZE HAIR. The lovely nuance * Cattain Fonese” can be coupe .tted to Hair of any olour by using ZERINE. Sold only by W. WINT FE R. 472, Oxford St., London Pri bs. Gd., los. 6d... 218 r tinting grey or faded Hair XERINE is invaluable COLORLESS ALSO POWDER,SOAPS, 66 2 33 1/- 4 BOTTLES NON-POISONOUS | EMBROCATION, &¢%.. by their Steamship LUSITANIA, 3,912 tons register, 4,000 h.p., | | eth SOU te OF SPAIN, SICILY, GREECE, CON- | NTINOPLE, MALTA, ALGIERS S, &e., } hm, Le don 2ist Sept., arriving back th Oct, Passengers may leave London as late as the Ist Oct., and overtake the Steamer at Villefranche. | High-class cuisine, string band, &c. + anagers, F. Green & Co., Anderson, Anderson Head Offices: Fenchurch Avenue. For par- | tic le app! ly to xy antes firm at 5, Fenchurch pa ndon, E.C., or to West End Branch ‘LEEDS Office, 16, Cockspur Street, S.W LEEDS. —Hotel Metropole now Boor n. Comfort, elegance, quict. Moderate ta riff. | L roughly up to date Eve ry convenience, * One ofthe finest hotels out « if La don.” —Leeds Daily Newa. Two minutes fre rm eithe ong ation Unexe -elled cuisine. Carefully selected wine Excellent stock -rooms HOWARD'S on. PARQUET FLOORS From _ per foot. Finest quality produced. Solid Oak Wall Panelling from 2s. 6¢. per foot. 25, 26, & 27, BERNERS STREET, W. “THE BOONS 4 & BLESSINGS.” | Orient Company's Pleasure Cruises MACNIVEN & CAMERON,L Ltd., EDINBURGH. BRILL’S SEA SALT. A NEW WRITING CABINET. Stone's “Bureau” Cabinets. No. 931, ym As illustration, Sea Baths at Home. Bracing and __ Refreshing. THROUGHOUT. Order through any Furniture oe 214 X 214 x 10} Dealer, Static oner, or direct from iL STONE & SON, Ltd., BANBURY. Write for Catalogue of We vel é Useful Presents. | THE MOST NUTRITIOUS. EPPS’S CRATEFUL—COMFORTING COCOA BREAKFAST—SUPPER. INFANTS’ RS Used in SELF the Royal w | | Nurseries. % eapatennees Sold everywhere in Tins, 1/-, 2/+, 6/-, 10/- oe F000.

Page 3

mi September 6, 1899.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 109 THE INFLUENCE OF PLACES. Egevia. “Surevy, Mr. Swinson, IT MUST THIS, THAT YOU WROTE THOSE LINES THAT END— ‘¢*GIVE ME THE WHITE-MANED STEEDS TO RIDE, Tue ARABS OF THE MAIN’ Mr. Swinson (faintly). ‘‘N-no. Reaprne Parry—nHaLr-way ue MATTERHORN NEWS A LA MODE DE PARIS, (‘The French prefer home news to foreign intelligence.”’—Eminent Foreign Critic.| ScENE—Interior of Editorial sanctum of a Parisian paper. PRESENT—Rédacteur en chef and subordinate member of his staff. Rédacteur en chef. Well, anything start- ling for the coming issue ? a Sub. No. The usual features—short -- | Story, continuation of long one, réclames, and columns devoted to music and the |drama. Nothing else. Rédacteur en chef. Anything from Eng- land ? | Sub. Reported declaration of war against | Germany by Sir SALISBURY. Defeat of the British somewhere. BANNERMAN, Esquire, to be the next Lord Mayor. Rédacteur en chef. Ah! there is nothing startling in all that—except the last. BANNERMAN, Esquire, as Lord Mayor. A new dynasty. Anything from Russia? ’ é Sub. The TSAR loves France. Ao - Rédacteur en chef. And from Germany ? Sub. The Germans are trembling. Rédacteur en chef. Yes, yes. We have had that paragraph standing for the last twenty years. But are they doing nothing else? Sub. No, they are doing nothing else. Rédacteur en chef. And you say we have no item of news of greater importance HAVE BEEN HERE, AND ON SUCH A Day AS WASN'T IT?” ” BABIES IN THE TRAIN. THE idea poetically expressed by Mr. ASHBY-STERRY, London’s Laureate par excellence, in the Daily Telegraph of Thursday last, August 31, is, as indeed are all the L. L.’s suggestions, excellent. And so practical, not to say practicable! Has he not Solomonesque authority, had he chosen to quote it, for allowing babies to travel, whether by ‘‘express’’ or ‘“*slow’’ it matters not? Did not that exceptionally wise king tell us to, ‘‘ train up a child in the way it should go,’’ and if this is not a prophetic recommendation as to the means of baby-transit, who can say what is? Admitted that “ train up”’ from abroad ? does not include a return ticket; in which| Sub. Serious famine in India. Revolt in ease it would have been ‘‘ train up and| Australia. Ruin in Turkey. Threatened down ;’’ but still, as far as it goes, the | revolution in Switzerland. The commence- single line suffices. Yet if we are to be|ment of the end in Italy. Sinking of over-crowded by the transport of our} Holland. Civil war between England and British infantry forces, would it not be as| Ireland. A cart upset on the boulevards. well to remind pater-and-mater-familias| Rédacteur en chef. A cart upset on the that there are such conveyances as|boulevards! Why did you not tell me ** Bogie-carriages ’’? Now what child, or| that before! Why, it is more important what nurse, well up in Grimm’s Goblins than all the other news put together ! and in ghost stories, would, if they knew; Sub. Sol thought, but—— it, consent to ride in a ‘‘ Bogie-ca’ riage’’?| Rédacteur en chef. Don’t waste a mo- Heavens! And would it add to their|ment. Let’s go to press immediately. pleasure to be informed that the Bogie-| Fill the contents-bill with it. Not a carriage must be visited by an Inn-/| moment is to be lost! spectre!! Wouldn't they all be little | [Scene closes in upona tableau of great AsHBYs-terrified ? animation. “THE NURSERY SALOON ON THE RAILWAY.” Over Artist’s Notion OF WHAT WE MAY EXPECT IF THE SUGGESTION IS ADOPTED. The Saloon is fitted with Patent swing sleeping Rattles can be obtained Efficient Nurse Guards, The Saloon is fitted with Refreshment Bar, replete cradles can be secured by at most of the large sta- to look after the Babies, amusing Toys, to beguile with all Baby delicacies. wire or letter. tions. travel by all Trains. the tedium of long journeys. VOL. OXVIi, L

Page 4

[SepremBer 6, 1899. 110 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARLI. h Panes KOR] A, Ly en's Cig Y ASE, {} LE), iy, A Yipby f t = Up “ 1 |; ye ' ; % S / w miy 4, aw 344 Hf Vig Oo 74 / z GUE H | d HAY, AAG FF watt Cal / . >. Diiigg) $94///) 4 fF, See THEIL UEIEL, gta ft, f4, SSI Satits Cate 2 Les %, 7 -; ah own > tentaetale THE “EXTINCTION” OF SPECIES; OR, THE FASHION-PLATE LADY WITHOUT MERCY AND THE EGRETS.

Page 5

SEPTEMBER 6, 1899.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 111 THE CANDID SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE. CoME live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That modern and suburban life Can give to husband and to wife. A sordid villa we will seek (Ten shillings is the rent per week), Where you shall dwell the livelong day, At Shepherd’s Bush or Holloway. There of an evening I will scowl And smoke my pipe and grunt and growl, While, as the Pekoe I imbibe, Our slavey’s failings you describe. There you shall cook and wash and drudge While I each extra sixpence grudge, And sallow baby cries and squalls In unmelodious intervals. Thus working early, late, and hard, Dress by degrees you ’ll disregard, While I in raiment neat and new ‘*Keep up appearances ’’ for two. So shall you grow a vulgar scold, A slut, and prematurely old. If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me and be my love. THE POINT OF VIEW.—VII. DEAR Mr. Puncu,—I have been reading all this correspondence about ’buses and, as one who spends a large portion of the day in a ’bus, may I be allowed to say that *buses are far too large and too heavy for comfort? They should be made of bamboo or papier maché, and in every case three or four horses should be employed. The horse is the most important part of the ’bus, though the heedless public don’t seem to know it. They want soft seats, stools for their feet, electric light, room for their elbows, &c., &c., and all for the blessed penny! ! but never a thought for the poor horses that are pulling them along the slippery wood-pavement! A woman would stop a ’bus every two minutes to save her five yards walking, and the men aren’t much better. Ask the driver; he will tell you that it is the stoppings and ae* the startings that kill the horses. Light *buses, definite stopping stations, shorter hours and shorter runs—these are the needed reforms, and let the public walk if they don’t like ’em. Iam, Dear Mr. Punch, with respect, A. WHEELER. "ARRY "Arry. ‘‘1 say, BILL, ALIN’? IN "OLLAND. HE A RUM LOOKIN’ Cove?” **PENSION,’’ NOT PENSION. (Fragment from a Romance of the Future, applicable to the Present Holiday Season.) ** You are over sixty-five ?’’ queried the Commissioner. **T am,’’ replied the Veteran; ‘‘ nearer seventy than sixty, Sir.’’ **And yet you did not receive the Old Age Pension ?’’ ‘* No, Sir, no; I had been as respectable as any of my neighbours. But I am afraid there was a rumour abroad that did mea deal of harm. It was said that I was a thief ?’’ The aged person shuddered, and buried his livid face in his shaking hands. The Commissioner paused for a few moments, and then he asked a question. ‘Tell me. against you. a thief,? ”’ The old man whispered, and nodded his head in the affirmative. ‘* Wretched outcast!’’ cried the Com- missioner, shrinking away in disgust; “and what are you going to do for your livelihood in the future ?”’ Then the old man brushed away his tears and held up his head. His clear blue eye became bright, and there was a smile upon his expressive countenance. **T can’t give up my old habits. Once a thief always a thief. But there is a pleasant futureawaiting me. I propose to rob on the highway.”’ ‘* What, as a modern DICK TURPIN ?”’ ‘* No,’’ returned the old man, producing a menu, ‘* but as a hotel proprietor! ’’ Mind, it will not be used But tell me truly—were you

Page 6

112 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [SzprempBer 6, 1899,

| DARBY JONES AWAKES ON THE ST. LEGER. HonovurReD Sir,—You will no doubt be as surprised as was the Traditional Cat when it escaped from the Proverbial Bag at receiving this communication from your ancient and possibly, nay probably, for- gotten Adherent, but nevertheless, I can- not refrain from tipping you a few lines, now that I am once more enabled to employ my digits, on the subject of the glorious Leger. Ah! Sir, writing as I do from a spot reeking with the blood of Hispanian cattle, it does me good to refer to the Northern Epsom, better known to Geographers as Doncaster. It is a Town distinguished for Hard Roads, Hard Going, Hard Food, Hard Men, and Hard Bake, but it is also remarkable for Soft Surprises. As my old friend, the Count, remarked to me last night at the Casino, ‘‘ Doncaster is as difficult to determine as the age of one’s Unmarried Sister.”’ . I will not weary you, Honoured Sir, with my reasons, but, untrammelled with Wire- less Telegraphy, I submit the following Doggrel to the appreciation of yourself and your readers :— 7 — NN The Duchess of York may get a place, Of the Crocodile don’t despair, But Reynard should surely win the race With Cornerake nearly there ! Such, Mon Rédacteur, otherwise Literary and Commercial Conductor, is the augury of Your ever devoted Exile, DARBY JONES.

Gi, "fle et v : . Viz } x ~s ower e / 2 mn 7 L/ How To Losg A FortuNE.—The following ow 7 § ote \Zs { I fr advertisement is taken from the Standard: L of oO” Aes ca “flo oF fe iw = y A ‘*How a Country Lady won and lost small AME oe “ftp lL 7 fortune, commencing with little capital. ae 4 aM ha) > Address, &c.’’ We should imagine a <4 f | Country Lady would be capable of losing Fitznoodle (to Gamekceper). ‘* WHEN I was IN AUSTRALIA, I sHOT THE BIGGEST KANGAROO | her ‘little capital’? easily enough with- ” THE NATIVES SAID THEY EVER SAW ‘‘HInDEED, Sir! WHAT WAS YOU A-HAIMIN’ AT?” Gamekeepe re out having to reply to an advertiser in |order to learn how to do it.

LETTERS TO THE UNIMPORTANT. (From Mr. Punch’s Vagrant.) To THE Rev. W. J. KNox Litrie, M.A., CANON OF ROCHESTER. | REVEREND SiR,—It sometimes happens at a time of uattonaitl crisis that men, themselves of small general importance, force | themselves into a particular prominence to which neither their | past history nor the position they have up to that time occupied | give them any claim. France at this moment is distracted with turbulence and conflict, but the protagonists are obscure men. DREYFUS on the one side, on the other ESTERHAZY, DU PATY DE CLAM, MERCIER, ROGET and the motley rabble of traitors, spies, blue-spectacled emissaries and shrieking Chauvinists—these are the men by whom and round whom the fight is being waged, small men all of them, except, it may be, in their own estima- tion and that of their immediate adherents. Therefore, I make no excuse, Sir, for addressing you in these columns. It is true that we have not been accustomed hitherto to look to you for guidance in matters of grave public concern. But we stand now upon the brink of war with the South African Republic, and you, a Canon of the Church of England, and therefore presumably a pious and a peaceful man, have addressed your fellow-countrymen on the subject of the crisis in a letter published in the Times of August 29, and have declared urbi et orbi what is the true canonical view of our duty at this supreme moment. You are thus become in a sense public | property, and a perfectly proper subject for public comment. As it happened, on August 29 I was reading in my Standard | a telegram from New York, in which an account was given of meetings held at Ocean Grove, ‘‘a famous summer resort for the Methodist denomination, of which the President (of the United | States) is a leading member.’’ Ona certain Friday, it appears, Mr. McKINLEY had made a speech before the congregated Methodists, and had announced inter alia the intention of his government to carry on the war in the Philippines until the inhabitants had been subdued. The Filipinos, I may mention by the way, have hitherto shown themselves strangely un- appreciative of the blessings of American civilisation coupled with American control. Now a spirit of liberty, the desire to arrange their own government in their own way, a bitter re- sentment of servitude—these, of course, are admirable and holy qualities when displayed by Englishmen or Americans, but that mere Filipinos should aspire to them is not only preposterous in itself, but is so plainly contrary to the intentions of Providence, that every right thinking man is bound to denounce them. So, at least, thought Dr. SCHELL, a dignitary of the Methodist body, who, on the Sunday following the Presidential speech, preached a sermon. In this he said that ‘‘ when the President spoke about peace with honour and the performance of duty in the Philippines, their souls leapt within them, for they recognised in him the conquering spirit of the old Roman, and the militant and aggressive spirit of Christianity. ....There were more than one million young men in the Epworth (Methodist) League, and these young men of blood and breeding were ready to march through sand or jungle or fling themselves against the breast- works of the enemy with a hardihood and daring no veteran of the Old Guard or of WELLINGTON’s Iron Brigade could surpass. Mr. ‘MCKINLEY had the prayers of the League that day; he could have their money to-morrow, and on the next day the entire membership of a million would enlist, if need be.’’ Well, 1 confess that 1 turned away from this insolent and blood-thirsty gush with a feeling of nausea. Thank Heaven, I thought to myself, we in England have no Christian minister

Page 7

SepremBer 6, 1899.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. who can so far forget his sacred duty of preaching peace and goodwill and the gospel of mercy as to incite his countrymen to bloodshed and rapine and subjugation. American clergymen may do this, but Englishmen—and lo, as I pursued this eminently British and condescending train of thought, my eyes fell upon your letter in the Times. Now, let us understand one another. Those who think as I do are not posing as thick and thin defenders of every action of the Transvaal Republic. We may freely admit that they have made many mistakes, but, even granting for argument’s sake that the Transvaal has committed misdeeds far beyond the limits of our admission, we see no ground for war or for the blustering threats that make war more probable. For of what kind would this war be? I can give the answer in words not my own: ‘A war in South Africa would be one of the most serious wars that could possibly be waged. It would be a long war, a bitter war and a costly war, and, as I have pointed out already, I believe generations would hardly be able to blot it; and to go to war with President KRUGER, to enforce upon him reforms in the internal affairs of his State, in which Secretaries of State, standing in their place, have repudiated all right of interference—that would be a course of action which would be immoral.’’ These are not the words of a despised Little Englander; they were spoken in the House of Commons in 1896 by that great Panjandrum, Mr. JOSEPH CHAMBERLAIN himself, and no word of mine can add to their force or increase their value. But evidently, as I must admit with sorrow, they do not express the opinion of at least one Reverend Canon of Rochester, for when Dr. NEWMAN HALL announced his intention of rallying | the members of the Free Churches to protest against war, he | roused a red-hot passion of indignation in your ecclesiastical | breast. Here are some of the gems from your effusion: ‘Stringent measures are needed. .... War is sometimes a| duty, and never could the duty be more clear than in this case unless the Boers attend to the just demands of their suzerain. ....Crimes may be engendered by an over love of peace... . If there be one plain duty for Great Britain it is to be careful how far she diplomatizes with men whose word can never be trusted, and who will evade any engagement,’’ and so forth, and so forth, until the astounded reader, his senses reeling under this terrific rush, this lava torrent of blood-desiring fury, sees at last the signature, not of ‘‘ MILES,’’ or ‘*‘ MAJOR-GENERAL (retired),’’ or ‘* A COLONEL OF VOLUNTEERS,’’ but of W. J. KNox LITTLE. Sir, you strangely mistake your duty. You were ordained to preach mercy and peace. By the creed you profess, by the vows you have taken, by the cloth you wear (even wen writing letters to the Times), you are bound to do what you can to win men from wrath and the turbulent passion for conflicts to the ways of conciliation and charity. Rash words, stormy incite- ments, and warlike appeals, that might be pardonable in other men, become rank offences in those of your profession. You, forsooth, must hound your fellow-countrymen on to war and the shedding of blood ; you, a servant of the Prince of Peace, must, it seems, pour contempt on the efforts of another who speaks for peace. Let there be widows and orphans, you cry, and brave men tortured by ghastly wounds out of all human shape; let there be fire and ruin and desolation where now are happy homes and quiet prosperity. These, in your view, are the demands of Christianity and philanthropy and manliness. I venture, with a humble deference, to dissent from you, and I add this in con- clusion, that of all incongruous and intolerable spectacles, the least congruous and the least tolerable to my mind is that of a clergyman shouting at the top of his clerical lungs for bloodshed. I am, Sir, your obedient servant, THE VAGRANT. ** WE are all worms! ’’ cried an itinerant preacher, addressing a sea-faring community on the beach. “I, my friends, ama mere worm!’’ ** Shouldn’t ’spec’ to do much with yer as bait,’’ growled an elderly fisherman, lighting his pipe and strolling away. } Q. To what species arboris does the lessee of Her Majesty’s | belong ? A. The Pop’lar TREE. | AN EQUIVALENT IN A PROVERB.—‘‘ A taper waist,”’ i.e. ‘‘ Burn- | ing a candle at both ends.”’ | A SUBJECT WHIOH NEEDS TO BE VENTILATED.—T".c London ’bus. ute iy DE ml fl i HI "a uli? es CU Stee PR - 499 **MummMy, CAN I HAVE THAT PEAR ROOM SIDEBOARD THIS MORNING? ’Cos ‘* BECAUSE WHAT?” *’Cos 1’vE EATEN IT!” THAT WAS ON THE DINING- ; [Pause. HOW TO BE HOT AND HAPPY. DEAR MR. PuNncH,—So much has been written about the re- creation of the people, that Iam sure you will willingly allow me to add my own experiences in this direction. On a very sultry day, when exertion is distasteful to the most athletic, it is a little difficult to select a sport that is not distressing from a purely physical point of view. I claim to have solved the problem. I went, the other day, to Hampton Court when the sun caused ninety degrees to register in the shade, and selected a small rowing boat just large enough to seat two and a luncheon basket. The case of comestibles was carried by my second son—a young gentleman able to wield the willow, and hold his own as an oarsman. We started at ten o'clock, and until one were hard at work causing our frail bark to proceed between the treeless banks at a speed which, if it did not surpass that of the express train, at any rate compared favourably with the progress of the ‘‘ growler.”’ As we had made our progress I had noted the riparian residences with their pretty gardens, and the picturesque race-course of Kempton Park. After our four hours’ labour it was not extra- ordinary that we should feel the pangs of hunger and thirst. So, mooring our boat to a bank under some bushes, we divided the contents of our basket into two heaps. I as the elder consumed the larger portion. Then, thoroughly refreshed, we ported our helm—TI think that is the correct term—and made our way back to Hampton Court. We got within the welcome shadow of the walls facing the old palace of the Cardinal and rested. We had been hard at work for eight hours—the chosen day of exertion of the artizan—and yet I was fresh and cool. And now it may be said, that possibly the labour had not been shared equally—that, perchance, my son had had the lion’s share of the toil. Nothing could be further from the truth. My son rowed all the eight hours—but I steered. Yours contentedly, A PORTLY PHILANTHROPIST.

Page 8

114 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. | [SzepremBer 6, 1899. | Fay - Fair Cyclist. ‘*Is THIS THE WAY TO WAREHAM, PLEASE?” 2 4ivt ZT) . , My yr oY es, ‘iat a}, { ¥ | 4 7 7; — "48, aS | | ree i, Ny) - 3 0 Ui. hyy mull gh? IN DORSETSHIRE. Native. ‘‘ Yes, Miss, YEW SEEM TO ME TO HA’ GOT ’EM ON ALL RIGHT!” = i 1 AN OPEN LETTER. From Britannia Minima to an English Uitlander. [The following, . > to have been intended for publication in the Daily Chronicle, fell into the hands of Mr. Punch’s Depreciator, who for- wards it to his Editor. } How I could love you! You have all, Or nearly all, the salient points That ever held my heart in thrall, That ever pierced my corset-joints ! How I could love you! How, in fact, these eyes Would dote on you—if things were other- wise ! You ery in vain for Freedom's rights, You are, that is to say, oppressed ; This thought, especially at nights, Weighs on my woman’s yearning chest ; You cry, and no-one pays the least regard ; This seems to me particularly hard. You ask for Justice, nothing more ; Merely deraand your Manhood’s due, Whose hands, by labour at the ore, Have built a bankrupt State anew ; I hold it noxious to a nation’s health To slight the working-men that make her | wealth. You only look for honest laws, For suffrage—this I always like; You represent a righteous cause, But have, alone, no strength to strike ; j It is, I hope, notorious how my heart | But you are neither Greek nor Finn, Sides regularly with the weaker part. | But merely English—bear in mind ; | Which means that I am ‘‘ more than kin,” And consequently ‘‘ less than kind ’’ ; Though I could love you well for Freedom's sake, Here is a principle that stands at stake. It aches—in theory—for you On whom a tyrant’s henchmen sit ; No Great Assassin, that is true, But still a shocking hypocrite : This sentiment should move my heart to love, But actually doesn’t (see above). Attractive as your efforts are To cleanse the wrong, to clear the shame, Between us lies a fatal bar— This matter of your birth and name; About your neck my arms incline to cling, But you are English! That’s the damning thing! For I have firmly steeled my face To those enumerated charms Which would, in any other case, Have landed you within my arms, And made me love you for your piteous lot, Had you been some one else—which you are not. | §UGGESTION. —If these ‘‘ Bravo Toro”’ Had you belonged, we ’Il say, to Crete, | shows are to be continued, our old friend Or sprung of pure Armenian blood, | Boulogne had better adopt English How would my Christian pulse have beat | spelling, and call itself ‘‘ Bull-ogne.’’ Of To contemplate you eating mud ! course, whether there are to be bull-fights I would have had the sea’s ensanguined | at this favourite French watering-place face | cannot concern foreigners ; it is all a ques- Strewn with the relics of the tyrant’s race. | tion of whether the show pays or not. That the representatives of JoHN BULL, visitors Or had you been of Finnish birth, and residents, should content themselves Doomed to indulge a Czar’s decree, by staying away and refusing to patronise I would have canvassed half the earth this so-called ‘** entertainment,’’ would be Calling aloud on Liberty ; asufficiently practical expression of opinion For you I would have fought (I like to | without making any uncalled-for comments think) on the self-chosen amusements of the | Till I had shed my latest drop—of ink. French “ round and about this quarter.”’

Page 9

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.—Sepremper 6, 1899. THE WAR PLANET. CoroniaL Joz. “‘ LIKE TO "AVE A LOOK AT MARS, YER ’ONOUR? YER SEEM TO SEE ’IM QUITE CLOSE THROUGH MY TELESCOPE!”

Page 10

Page 11

——_ _ SspremBer 6, 1899.]} PUNCH,

OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

—_— A CASTLE LINER. (Notes from the Travel Diary of Toby, M.P.) R.M.S. Kinfauns Castle. In the Clyde, Thursday.—_The Member for Sark well remembers his first voyage to the Cape. Mentions no date, but evidently some years ago. It was on board the Hoyden, a barque of 280 tons, and among the passengers was CaP’EN TOMMY BOWLES. He wasn’t a Cap’en then, but made up for the deficiency by having the regulation number of arms and legs, since laid on the altar of his country and there calcined. Even in those early days the sitting Member for King’s Lynn was remarkable for his mental and physical activity. SARK recalls a curious instance. One evening when the Hoyden was restlessly rocking amid the Roaring Forties, TOMMY, lolling astride a water-cask, reading the Life of Pitt, suddenly started and listened intently. Softly dropping the volume into the lee scuppers, he ran aft along the taffrail till he reached the jib-boom. Skirting it half a point to starboard, he listened again. At six bells he tacked and resumed his old position. ** What were you up to?’’ SARK asked. “‘Nothing,’’ said TOMMY, disconsolately. “T thought I heard Hicks-BEACH making a bargain with the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER.”” It is another and a trivial story. Only it shows how the man is father to the boy. The contrast between the Hoyden and the Kinfauns Castle, latest chateau en Fenchurch Street, is as marked as was the difference between the Ark and the May- r,in which Sir BASHMEAD-ARTLETT’S forefathers fared forth to found Empire in the West, and pick up anything going in the way of tramway and electric light- ing concessions. “‘That’s where blood tells,’’ said the Sultan of TURKEY, turning over some documents accompanying a bound copy of BASHMEAD’S speeches in the House of Commons and elsewhere. Off the Lizard, Friday. — Whether re- garded as a fleet cruiser or as a comfort- able seaside country-house, the Kinfauns Castle is A 1 at Luoyp’s. Ten thousand tons burden, she can do her eighteen knots without turning a hair on the cap- tain'shead. Sailing through Summer seas —out of the fog in the Clyde into the sun- set, presently into the moonlight against which Ailsa Craig suddenly uplifts herself, a dark purple shadow—there is no perceptible motion. Only the rippling of the water at the bows, and the long lines of stricken sea spreading in miniature waves of foam under the stately tread of the great ship. Of course this is rare Summer weather. Between Southampton and Madeira, across the Bay of Biscay, there will be times of trial. Doubtless the Kinfauns Castle will be equal to them. In matter of decoration the latest Castle Liner has made a new departure, achieved a new success. The Lord High Admiral, Don CURRIE, has gone outside trodden pathways. Ignoring usual ship decora- tors has placed interior of vessel in hands of able young house architect with ideas. Consequence is, dining, saloon, drawing- room, above all smoking-room, more like home ashore than a ship at sea. Smoking- room, the gem of the collection, is designed after manner of old Dutch interior, with walls panelled in oak, stained green, cun-

trl jee

nes “9 ' . ' q > i) ,

—-)- so ees Be AS =) az a Bp Ete I SOY, f = MOAN ee Ki! a T° \ {> $a ' Bey ‘ -- Parent (left in charge). ‘‘No, YOU CANNOT HAVE ANY MORE CAKE.” (Very seriously.) ‘‘Do YoU KNOW WHAT I SHALL HAVE TO DO IF YOU GO ON MAKING THAT DREADFUL NoIsE?” Little Girl (sobbing). ‘‘ YEs.” Parent. ‘‘ WLI, WHAT IS THAT?” Little Girl. *‘ GIVE ME SOME MORE CAKE!” [And she was quite right.

ningly inlaid withebony. Thebar,designed celebrate the launch of the Kinfauns in character, has artistic attractions that | Castle’s sister ship, SARK whispered to me, would be irresistible even to Sir WILFRID | ‘‘ What an actor the stage lost when Don LAWSON. CURRIE took to ship owning ! ”’ Here, as in the dining saloon and draw-| The Fenchurch Street fleet now numbers ing-room, instead of the round porthole | twenty Castles, not in the air or in Spain, familiar on ship board you have large} but carrying Her Majesty’s mails (and square windows, divided into four dainty | some females) at sea. panes by bars of ivory-tinted wood. More-| ‘* What will you do for more names if over there are at the side of the lofty| you go on building at this rate?’’ I asked dome-shaped roof two ravishing dormer| Don Curriz. ‘‘You must have got near windows, the like of which was never | the end of the list of Castles.’’ seen on sea, rarely on land. ** Ah!’’ said Don CURRIE, with that far- The Solent, Saturday.—Last time I voy-| away look in blueeyes that only bards and aged under the flag of the Lord High/Hieland men can summon, “ there is, you Admiral of the Castle Line was on the! know, always the Elephant and Castle.’’ historic occasion when Mr. GLADSTONE | went in the Tantallon Castle to view the opening of the Kiel Canal. A great deal has happened since then, including a great eclipse. Only Don CURRIE is unchanged. , Perhaps a little ruddier in the cheek, a lighted to visit this classic spot ? little brighter in the eye, an added| Fair American. Wa’al, to tell the truth, sprightliness in his gait. Looking at him | ['m right disappointed with the candy you the other day, prancing up and down the call butter-scotch. Give me pop-corn for saloon, orating to a company largely com- | choice. [And she had been invited to see posed of Glasgow citizens assembled to the Leger run.

At Doncaster. Enthusiastic Sportsman (to fair Ameri- can). Ah! Miss STRIPES, aren't you de-

Page 12

118 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [SEPTEMBER 6, 1899, READY-MADE COATS(-OF-ARMS); OR, GIVING ’EM FITS! ace" ARGesT sai ano He IN THE WORLD Pr ny ” Arms For THoMas, Baron Lipton oF Sanpy Hook. Arms : Quarterly: Ist, A typical English fishing-boat (recently observed on the coast of Norfolk) smacking somewhat, surely, of réclame, shoppy and odious to the last (no relation we trust to the bearer of these arms, though any poaching on his preserves) ; 2nd, Crossing a bar sable, a greyhound of the sea, volant under a bend proper of canvas, prodigious in acreage, resisting, in this case, temptation to advertisement, bearing a crew “selected from the best tea-growing—I beg pardon !—sea-gowng countries,” pitted in rivalry against a champion starry stripy to the full; 3rd, a virginal racing-yacht proper, ‘direct from the producers,” docked skirted and modestly draped below the water-line, surreptitiously scaled and boarded in stealth by a yellow journalist, under a great press of canvass, infringent rules, disreguardant notice “ We guarantee correct measure without Wrapper”’ (Motto: “ Que deorsum volo videre !’’—“I am resolved to look at what is beneath!’’) ; 4th, On a course wavy aquamarine, buoyed proper, of contest, a horde of trippers in frenzy, transported in packets at pres prices, warned urgent against encroachment, but pushant and shovant like the deuce, scremant shrilly with sirens. Crest ; On a steam-yacht erinois of luxury, under a flag vert semée with trefoils, a sporting knight (‘‘ Limited’) mercantile, stalwart rosy a on the beam, “ Popular in every Home,” reguardant over the counter from habit, and chantant hopeful in advance a Ceylon plantation-song of victory—query? (Motto: “Jam Dudum paraties sum.’’—‘‘I have made every kind of provision.”). Supporters :—respecting each other in desuetude—Dexter, a bull at gaze radiant in expectancy (with a“ bit on’’) somewhat debruised of late in the field of sport; Sinister, an heraldic Jonathan yanque- dudulois, navally gorged with laurels, sportsmanlike a rincely in hospitality, if prone to triumph somewhat unduly. (Second motto: “ We guarantee the public an exhilarating cup.’’) which he may be investigating. It will be observed that, following this system, he | is now studying the great trial from the THE deeply interesting despatches which | northern coast of the Channel. Mr. Punch received from his Principal; HAVRE.—This town is still peaceful, but Foreign Correspondent last week, threw | the weather being showery I have remained light on many remarkable phases of the | indoors. Finding a copy of last Wednes- present situation in France, without the |day’s Times, I read the remarks of the endless repetition of purely local facts |Special Correspondent of that journal at noticeable in some of the descriptive | Rennesontheevidence of M.DE FREYCINET. reports from Rennes. It would ill become | Have hitherto cultivated a short, crisp Mr. Punch to extol the merits of his | style in my despatches. However, I can Principal Foreign Correspondent, a man | indulge in long sentences, such as those in whose dauntless courage is only equalled | the Times, when I wish. Here is a short by his luminous insight and varied talents,|comment on the bathing-machines at but it is impossible to avoid mention, | Trouville, in the more ornate manner :— which implies praise, of his absolutely| At the close of this morning’s bath, unequalled skill in noting the side issues | meditating on the innumerable vicissitudes MR. PUNCH’S REPRESENTATIVE AT RENNES, bathing-machine constructed in the light- est fashion of upright canvas sides rising above a flat, rectangular wooden floor, supported on small round wheels — a bathing-maching divided into two portions each almost a yard square, and therefore far from spacious, in fact, decidedly small, and nevertheless called a cabine de luxe— a bathing-machine, I say, in which, although of ordinary proportions, I dis- robed with difficulty in semi-Stygian darkness, and whence, while the playful zephyr blew lightly through my scanty vesture, I stepped down into water an inch deep only to leap rapidly into the air, in the manner of Venus rising from the foam, on discovering a solitary sharp pebble immediately under the large toe of my right foot—a bathing-machine, I repeat, which like the rosy flush of the sunset sky, or the blue glory of the hyacinths in the vernal woods, received my tired senses with a soothing caress while I sat on its exiguous bench and clasped my injured extremity, until such time as I was able to venture forth again into that azure flood which laves the chalk cliffs of Albion and the calcareous coasts of Gaul, whence, invigorated by the gentle touch of the saline deep, I returned, and, rapidly entering by the door, fell over a foot-bath of hot water placed in the diminutive cabin by the bath attendant during my absence, fell over it so suddenly that my head, violently projected against the opposite side of the vehicle, penetrated the canvas, and burst forth upon the outer world to the speechless amazement of an obese French lady seated in the immediate vicinity—in fact, about six inches away— upon a camp-stool under a white umbrella, in such manner that my hands, vainly seeking my release, tore down from the internal pegs the greater portion of my raiment into the hot water, some of which had already filled my boots, from which unpleasant position I was ultimately re- moved by the bath attendant, who, ina decidedly Delegorquesque manner, pulled me out backwards by the ankles—and which (I still refer to the bathing-machine —I frequently use a parenthesis [occasion- ally several parentheses together ]|—)—the bathing-machine of Trouville, I say, was —the bathing-machine of Trouville, I repeat, is by no means luxurious. I also can write elegantly, and at con- siderable length. But after demonstrating this, will resume style less costly for telegrams. Havre is tranquil, but civil war might break out even here. Boats to England cross only at night. A correspondent must be prepared to undergo any hardship. But night passage is not pleasant. Shall therefore leave Havre. F&écAMP.—This town is, if possible, more tranquil. Placid middle-class matrons knitting on the beach, surrounded by inno- cent children. Evidently no immediate danger of revolution. Join the table-d'hote at the modest hotel. Perhaps an oppor- tunity for investigations. Quiet, pleasant man next to me. Chat with him on various subjects. Quite a gentleman. Therefore not ROCHEFORT, or JUDET, or DRUMONT, oF any one like that. At last he mentions that he is a Colonei en retraite. He knows several of the generals. He begins to speak of Captain DREYFUS, very quietly. He calls the execrable ESTERHAZY, ™ voyou. Am becoming interested, when it and distant ramifications of any matter ‘of human life while tying my boot-lace in a dawns upon me that I may be led into some

Page 13

Fe oO aa ie SS Se cr ces CO H's & ewe i 2 HS owrw eS eS SepremBer 6, 1899. ] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL. witH B. Mem.—NEVER AGAIN!” THOUGHT WE SHOULD HAVE BEEN DROWNED. TRIALS OF A NOVICE. Extract from Diary.—'‘ WEDNESDAY. WENT FoR A SPIN OR TRIP, OR WHATEVER IT’S CALLED, ON BoWLINEs’ NEW Racine YAcurT. FELT VERY NERVOUS WHEN WE TURNED THE CORNERS; NEARLY FELL OVERBOARD WHILE I WAS TRYING TO BALANCE THE THING ; B. SAID IT WAS A WONDER WE WEREN’T—THANKS TO ME/ HAD A FEW WORDS [NV.B.—B. says the same. dangerous expression of opinion. Fécamp isasmall, remote town. No British Consul. There is a British Chaplain, who has just finished his dinner in this very room, but how could he protect me? Become alarmed. Catch last train to Rouen. RovEN.—There is a good hotel here, but the head waiter, a man with a long face and long black whiskers, is more lugubrious than any undertaker I ever saw. Most depressing. Cannot stand that head- waiter. Shall leave. BRIGHTON.— Arrived here in _ perfect safety. Shall continue to transmit the latest intelligence. (Received as we go to Press).—Nothing has happened. Still to reach Rennes, SOLILOQUIES. (Recorded by Mr. Punch’s Phonograph.) Il.—AtT A LAWN-TENNIS TOURNAMENT. RATHER foolish of me to agree to umpire for this match, but that secretary fellow wouldn't let me escape. . . . However, say it’s simple enough. ‘ Ladies’ handicap singles, Miss VERJUICE v. Miss SINGLETON.” Feel rather conspicuous, seated on chair placed on topof table... . Yes, I’m quite ready, please begin.... What? Haven’t got the names down on the seore-sheet? And I’ve got to mark every stroke on it?... Oh, really, that’s Pn ll te allie dll till i ill lla absurd, you know. ... What a ridiculous fuss to make about a wretched game!... Yes, I’ve written down your names. No, I haven’t got the odds—didn’t know there were any.... Miss Verjuice owes five- sixths of fifteen! Now what the dickens does that mean? Five-sixths of fifteen—five fifteens are seventy-five—that’s seventy- five sixths, that’s twelve-and-a-half. All right, Miss VERJUICE owes twelve-and-a- half something or other. Mustn’t give myself away by asking any more questions ; will get the secretary to subtract the twelve-and-a-half-whatever-it-is at the end. Play!...There, Miss SINGLETON ’S won four strokes straight off, so that’s her game. . . . Quite easy to umpire, after all... . Better make some scratches on the score-sheet. ... Hullo, they’re changing ends! Here, you mustn’t do that till the end of a set....Oh, change after each alternate game,do you? Well, I’ve played fairly often at garden-parties, and I’ve never seen that done!... ‘This isn’t a garden-party,’’ Miss VERJUICE?... No, worse luck; in that case I should be ina shady corner with something to drink, instead of being perched up here.... Fifteen-love! ... What’s the matter now ? Love-all? How can it be when Miss VER- JUICE has just won a stroke? . . . She owes fifteen this game? Oh, yes, of course, of course. Stupid of me to forget... . Seems to me they’re made the game horribly complicated now-a-days—very different from what it was when I learnt it first that summer at the BATTLEBY’S, ever s0 many years ago. By the way, wonder what’s become of BATTLEBY ? Didn’t some one tell me that he went out to the Cape or.... Eh? what’s that? Oh, er—well, it was a near thing, a very near thing, but, on the whole, I’m rather inclined to think—of course it was yards out, and you want to know if the score’s thirty-forty or forty- thirty? ...’Pon my word, haven’t the least idea—suppose you toss up?... Really, Miss VERJUICE, I don’t see why you should be so angry—about a little thing like that, too! I’m not umpiring for my own pleasure, I assure you!... Beastly ungrateful these women are, And I shall get a sunstroke most likely, all for the sake of their wretched match.... That’s game, anyhow, and the score is four-three, or three-four—just which you like to call it....‘*The proper way to call it is ‘ Four-three, Miss Verjuice wins’ ’’? Nonsense! How do I know Miss VERJUICE is going to win? Besides, I’ve got to deduct twelve-and-a-half from her score presently....Thank goodness, there’s the secretary. ... Hi! look here, I can’t umpire any more—no, impossible, really— most important engagement... . Could score for some mixed doubles this after- noon?... Well, no, afraid I can’t.... Should like to, immensely, but can’t spare the time.... The score-sheet? Yes, you ’ll find it on the chair... . And a nice lot he’ll be able to make out of it! He won’t catch me coming near the again while this tournament’s on!

Page 14

——— [SEPTEMBER 6, 1899, teen EE — Hoogser AN OBVIOUSLY UNKIND INQUIRY. Brown (to Jones, who has, for the first time, been trying his hand at fishing from a boat). *‘ WELL, OLD CHAP, WHAT sorT 0’ Sport?” OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. RARELY have I come across a more disappointing book than On Account of Sarah (MACQUEEN), by Eyre Hussey. If there be any one who ought to know how to write about such a horridly wicked little prig as is this Sarah it would naturally be a ‘*hussy.’’ It begins capitally and originally, yet the form of narrative adopted, with a ‘‘chorus”’ intervening, is apt to puzzle the reader as much as, evidently, after a little while, it has hampered the author. The story goes to pieces about the middle, and then picks itself up again with a sensational scene towards the finish. How much excellent literary work has not been expended and, alas, wasted, by VIOLET TWEEDALE on The Kingdom of Mammon, a novel published by JoHN Lonc. Much as the Baron dislikes its tone and object, and in some few instances the vulgarity of its style, yet he must own that, taken altogether, it is an exceptionally powerful work. But whether its effect be for evil or for good is, as Sam Weller puts it, ‘‘ according to the taste and fancy of the speller.’’ The matter of the story is reminiscent of ANTHONY TROLLOPE in his Barchester Towers humour, only brought up to date by the infusion of a taste of GEORGE MooreE-ishness, which imparts a kind of free-and-easy outspoken spice to its general insipidity. The authoress on one occasion happily coins a word which is decidedly expressive, and admirably suits her purpose ; the word is ‘*‘ Churchianity,”’ which she introduces as opposed to what she evidently under- stands by ‘‘Christianity.’’ Had the authoress given the book an explanatory sub-title, it might have read thus: The Kingdom of Mammon; or, Some Dreary Deists, a Dean, a Dame, and a Doubting Doctor. What was intended to be the grand effective climax, the scene of which is laid in Canterbury Cathedral, is, from an artistic point of view, a blunder. ANTHONY TROLLOPE knew his business better than this, and no Bishop of imaginary Barchester would ever have been concreted into a real Archbishop of Canterbury. As to the existence of such types in the Anglican Church as the authoress has pictured, the Baron has considerable doubts; they may be veritable portraits, or only emanations from VIOLET TWEEDALE’S inner consciousness ; but, imaginary or real, they are very cleverly drawn. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. a Caramella (ARROWSMITH) is just delightful. Of late the Englishman who accidentally drops in upon a foreign Principality, and by swift steps ascends the throne, is like the poor inasmuch as he is always with us. Mr. HawTrRey follows the familiar lines, but they fall in the pleasantest of places, and assume quite new curves and angles. The island of Caramella is lotus land, and we make the acquaintance of a crowd of charmin people. It is a land where all the men are, though not brave, big, and all the women beautiful. When the hero, Jack Fanshawe, as the last episode in a career of dazzling adventure brings ashore a squad of British bluejackets to restore him to his position of President of the Republic, the beauty of the women proved embarrassing. In vain the lieutenant in command, himself hopelessly smitten, called out, ‘‘ Eyes front, men! Eyes front!’’ The bluejackets did their best to obey. But, as Mr, HAWTREY Says, there are moments when the most magnificent discipline is powerless to keep the eyes under control. Cara- mella has a Foreign Office, but holds no communication with Foreign Powers; it has a Colonial Office, but no colonies; a paper currency, but no gold reserve; a Chancellor of the Ex- chequer, but no system of taxation; an army, but no arms, Nobody works, but every one is well off, eats the lotus in the afternoon, and is serenely happy. Here and there my Baronite detects intent of determined satire at the expense of another island home. In the main it is exquisite fooling, never de- generating into the merely practical. It is evident that had not JULES VERNE written his wonder stories, The Great Pirate Syndicate, by GEORGE GRIFFITH (F. V, Waite & Co.), would never have seen the light. Apt though the disciple be, the Baron’s Retainer thinks he has been over- bold in treading the path where the master led so brilliantly, The main theme is fascinating, and has been conceived with a big imagination; the description of the first launch of the wonderful aérial destroyer holds us spell-bound as we read, and the mighty machinations of the British Syndicate that starve out the rest of Europe fairly make our brains reel. But there are fatal gaps in the exposition of the story that we clamour to have filled up—difficulties that we want expounded; and the extent to which the author calls in the aid of coincidence to help him along is—well, there! as Dick Phenyl used to say. Infelix, by Lady DUNTZE (JOHN LONG), is a pathetic little story, told, perhaps, with more heart than brain, yet told well and simply, with no great pretention, yet no straining after dramatic situation or effect—just a little sad story of human frailties, by an authoress who has known how to temper her treatment to her theme. THE BARON DE B.-W. THE DECAY OF THE KILT. Mr. Briggs loquitur : I AM going down to Scotland, to the country of the kilt, For a little salmon-stalking in a place they call Glen Tilt; And as I always like to be a Roman when at Rome, I’ve parchased the correct costume and it has just come home, The kilt is most becoming, and it hangs with grace and ease, Though perhaps a little draughty in the region of the knees, And if there should be midges—but no doubt the Scotch are drest In the clothes Experience has found to suit the climate best. The dirk that dangles from my waist looks very comme il faut, And the sporran in my stocking gives a finish, don’t you know? The girls are all in raptures as they gaze at me in turns, And mother says they ’ll take me for another ROBERT BURNS. Sandy loquitur : Oh, mony are the fallacies that Ignorance ’Il breed, An’ mony the mistaks a man ’!] get intil his heid, But the maddest o’ delusions mad wi’ which some folks are fillt, Is that ye suld gang tae Scotland, gin ye want to see the kilt. For a’ the year I hevna seen a single kilt but ane— A wee bit white-legged Coackney wha’ was trudgin’ through the rain ; The water it was pourin’ owre his knees intil his shoes, An’ eh! but he was wishin’ for a pair o’ honest trews. Na! gin it’s kilts ye’re wantin’, dinna win sae mony miles ! Jist bide at hame in Lunnon toun and gang tae Seven Dials, An’ there amang the coasters, hurcy-gurdies, dancin’ bears, Ye ’ll fin’ yer bogus Scotsmen pipin’ bogus Scottish airs. QuERY BY AN IGnorANT Latc.—Is it the special duty of a Cathe- dral dignitary known as ‘‘A Minor Canon’’ always to read or in- tone the service in asad key? [Qy. Is there ‘A Major” Canon?]