Punch 1899: Vol 116

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LW by, ils. rill she his ‘ke ole red (ou CanB URYS COco, Free from drugs or any foreign admixture. Most Refreshing, Invigorating, and Sustaining, Sarasa ome M ‘i 3 X j we, NGH™ ~ > = | ma \ FLEET pees \ SS LONDQN> Zw N —= Z \ \\ — \ Of all Chemists and Mineral Water Dealers. L ' APENTA THE BEST NATURAL APERIENT WATER. Prices: 6d., 1/—- and 13 per Bottle.

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FOR BREAKFAST. PARIS.

~ PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899 U Hi O . OL A Tt ENTER LONDON. NEW YORK.

A LAXATIVE, REFRESHING FRUIT LOZENCE, VERY ACREEABLE TO TAKE. TAM AR constipation, morrhoids, Bile, Loss Headache. London: 47, Southwark Street, S.E. 2s 6d.

sloeleclocfeeloetoelnetocloetoelveloeteetoetoetoetoetoeteetoatontn “FOR THE BLOOD IS THE LIFE.” .% 4 2 Clarke’s $ “ Bureau" | + d £ , Cabinets. + B I 00 vo. |* Mixture : | A NEW WRITING CABINET. | ¢ —- Stone's le : ;

BS ae 4 > £2 12s. Od. *" “ : oe : * , , we a H. STONE & SON, BANBURY, | 2) been & + tt = < *° BEWARE OF WORTHLESS IMITATIONS. I I P, oe ee! BOO e treet Oe Oe Oe OF OF Oe Oe Fe Oe Oe OF Oe Oe Oe Oe Hem of Appetite, Gastric and Intestinal Troubles, |. GRILLON. |: a ® *, LIQUEURS OF THE * PDE. * W. DOYLE,

The Celebrated Sweet for Children, YLeakkyy whotis cm Confictooreryys * <= — I 1 ret

SZ CHARTREUSE |"

To PRESERVE and BEAUTIFY your HAIR

L ROWLANDS / | MACASSAROIL | GOLDEN MACASSAR OIL 7s., 10s. 6 Sold d Ch ! t GARDEN, LONDON OR. RIDGE'S PATENT COOKED

Excels all other Foods for Infants

il a . 7 i “at . a Wa HU LU , = a ie ~- - ,. \ f 4

An Advertisement drawn by the late H. STACY MARKS, R.A., for Messrs. Pears.

ard Invalids. FOOD.

gE RR NBS

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899.

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. THE COMING CENTURY. SceNE—The House of Commons. Enter mild-looking individual at door leading to Reporters’ Gallery. Custodian. Can’t pass there, Sir. Reserved for the ladies of the Press. Individual. But can’t I go into the House itself? The public are admitted nowadays ? | Custodian. Oh, yes, Sir, but only females. That regulation has been in force ever since the passing of the Equalisation of the Sexes Adjustment Act. Scene—The Foreign Office. Enier Foreign Ambassador with Declaration of War. Messenger. Can I be of any assistance to you, Sir? Ambassador. Will you kindly direct me to the Commander-in- Chief of the British Army ? Messenger. Sorry, Sir, but there is no Commander-in-Chief. The patent of the last one expired about five years ago. Ambassador. Then direct me, please, to the next in command. Messenger. Sorry again, Sir, but next in command is on sentry-go. Only one soldier belonging to the British Army nowadays, and he’s a volunteer. Ambassador. What shall I do with this Declaration of War? | Messenger. Oh, that, Sir? They will deal with that in the | Arbitration Department, next door to the room reserved for the Commissioners in Lunacy. | | MOTTOES FOR THE MILLION. Football men.—“Horresco referens,” I shudder when refereeing. M. de R-g-m-nt.—“ Hic jacet,” here he lies. The Dervishes.—“ Dum spiro, spearo.” Briefless Barristers.—“ Vacs. et preterea nihil.” Conscientious objectors.—“ Pox vobiscum !” | ’Bus conductors.—“ I know a Bank.” ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. —_ - Sors Czsar1ana.—Gallia est omnis divisa. Undoubtedly you : —— |are right. Cvssar’s prophetic eye foresaw L’ Affaire Dreyfus. aa. Enquirer.—Yes, Sultan Wilhelm is said to be very fond of turkey, and if not prevented, will help himself to large slices. Y \ $ A GHOST STORY. Uncle John was at the most exciting point of one of his most thrilling ghost stories: ‘‘ The door opened, a strange white light was projected into the room, and approaching, yet without movement, gliding along without the slightest sound, came a tall, weird, ghostly figure in a white robe, the Lady of the Moat, whose appearance on that fateful night meant " * * * * Well, it meant that we were all to be bundled off to bed as quickly as possible, as it was Aunt Jane, who insisted on all the young people being in bed early. And didn’t Uncle John catch it!! '

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I WAS WELL IN IT. — EEE _ DEFENCE OF THEIR COUNTRY ? A RARE BIRD HAS BEEN SEEN AT THE BrIcK PoNDs, A LITTLE FURTHER DOWN THE Roap! AN A, n\\\ ee \ Wo. \ — - Scot il a SS a q _ 5 > ar 8 = m an = % ~ z Zz wn am & es ~ 3 — = & fe N\ . a (\\\ )\ Na \ On, DEAR, NO.

Extract from a Hunting Diary.—Monday.

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. THE COMING CENTURY. Scene—A Ball-room. Edwinand Angelina discovered silting out. Angelina. This is very delightful. So much better to have the supper brought round by waiters to wherever we may be. Edwin. ’Tis a distinct improvement upon the small tables. And the theatrical entertainment for the chaperons gives those poor people limitless amusement. Angelina. It does indeed. And then it is so much nicer not to have the bore of dancing. Edwin. Yes, it was a comfort when all that was done by professionals. And who is our hostess? I have lost my card of invitation. Angelina. I haven’t the faintest idea. I have lost mine too. But it doesn’t mat- ter, as she wouldn’t have known us. Scene—Site of the Central Criminal Court. Enter Country Cousin. Country Cousin. I say, Policeman, how do I get into Newgate ? Police Constable. By breaking the law. } You try it, and you will soon see. C. C. Well, can you give me the address of a barrister-at-law ? P. C. Bless you, there are no barristers nowadays! They were ousted long ago by the solicitors. C. C. But I suppose the Old Bailey but it has been exists ? P. C. Of course, moved to West Kensington—about four miles beyond what used to be known as Richmond. | ©. C. And what has been done with the | | site of the Central Criminal Court ? | P. @. Although very valuable, it has | been retained by the Government for the | Bankruptcy Branch of the Companies, | Limited, winding up _ automatically. Millions of money are dealt with daily. C. C. And where is the Paying Out of Court Department ? P. C. There’s no such place. It isn’t a part of the system. | Nor Surraste ror Curistmas Ducora- | Tlons.—Melanc-holly. SPORTIVE SONGS. | (An old Bachelor sitting over the Yule Log casts back his Memory of Christmas Day.) Tue fire is getting very low, The log is failing fast, But in the dim red afterglow I think upon the past, And muse upon that Christmas day When you and I first met Beneath a silver-berried spray— I feel its power yet! The fire is getting lower still, The log is well-nigh ash, The while the air may not strike chill Athwart the creaky sash, My heart is warm with thoughts of you, It fears no Winter snow— You were the nicest girl I knew At Christmas long ago! ‘ | s Qo LO « y & . / el The fire is darker, almost gone, For me it still burns bright, My flame, Matilda, never shone With clearer, purer light, Not e’en upon that Christmas day In a.v. 69, When all the world was blithe and gay, And I hoped you were mine! The fire is out, Matilda dear, Nought left but calcined white, My diary will make quite clear The words I spoke that night.— What ’s this—’Twas not you after all, But pretty pouting Kate In 69. I now recall Your date was 68! AS IAS oe SY th \ Ya QQ | Youth (to Miserable Policeman). ‘‘ W’y DON’T YER Go ’OmME?” | |

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. i Va fe », i : I A I i ii! | Wdayh, ee) MWh re) . Wile tual ele APT. Brown (helping lady out of water). ‘‘’Pon My worD, Miss SMITH, YOU REMIND ME EXACTLY OF WHAT ’S-HER-NAME RISING FROM THE WHAT-YOU-CALL !” — : ” Curate (just ordained). ‘‘ Now I SHALL HAVE MUCH PLEASURE IN Effie (wishing to be polite). ‘No THANK You, Miss Miecrns. THE| yarryine you AND your Sister, Miss KATE.” » —T Cal > sa ” . a ’ Fow. IsN’T HIGH—BUT IT HAS RISEN A LITTLE / Miss Kate. “‘Wuat, Bor?” [Left explaining.

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. @®OOT-BAA. Hit iooee Uf = ¢ alll ah pes Mig 7 —_— — « SKITTAES. Aiensod "YAPZITI BOAT-PASE. EKSITIN =TPYITAE, ‘AMMEPSMI®. ANCIENT SPORTS. 8 cae ae mR a

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2 aotearoa nats ine PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. ‘*THREE SHEETS IN THE WIND.’’ It’s SIMPLY HUMILIATING. TO BE BLANKETED WITH FLYING NEWSPAPERS AT THE VERY MOMENT YOU THOUGHT YOU MIGHT RENEW youR ACQUAINTANCE WITH THOSE JOLLY GIRLS YOU MET AT THE Batt! BLow THESE Marcu WInps!! ee me, ni i i] ~~ q Mba Yi, rir Tal $64" —— **T HAVE JUST BEEN TO CALL UPON ae ‘on HAS FALLEN OUT WITH HER FIANCE.” *“‘Ou, YES, SO I HEARD. DID SHE TELL YOU ALL ABOUT IT? = My DEAR GIRL, I WAS ONLY THERE AN HOUR OR 80!”

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 189%. 4 IT beh ran tala SSS Ss Z A Ly M é Wet — g A PREZ S (i Ld - S= is ~ UU os V4 Wh f, A. y Y v7 4 Le ry ly: eZ — 76 wre. ee ~ = — SHS Sip Aj, my MMuju YY a VAS YS 6 C/A lift Z, fi IRN- NG. LOOKING DOWN ON OUR FRIENDS.

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899, For Infants, Invalids, and Persons of Weak Digestion. ”” MALT EXTRACT Is botha FOOD and a DIGESTER. It nourishes, it strengthens, is easy of assimilation, and no other FOOD so readily takes the fancy. In the Nursery, ‘‘D.C.L.’” MALT EXTRACT will be found a source of strength to the young mother as well as to her babe. It has all the efficacy of the strongest Stout in exciting an abundant flow of milk, without any of the SS of an alcoholic stimulant. Can be had from all Chemists and Grocers. Popular prices, 1/+, 1/9, and 4/6 per Bottle. Do not take a substitute. “D.C.L.” is the Cheapest as well as the Best. Sore MANUFACTURERS OF *“*D.C.L.””, MALT EXTRACT and ‘D.C.L."" YEAST. THE DISTILLERS CO., Ltd., Edinburgh. DE-W 00660008 This is the brand of Britain’s Best Bicycle. Every RUDGE-WHITWORTH Cycle is fully guaranteed. Catalogue and Handbook free from RUDGE-WHITWORTH, Ltd., COVENTRY, ENGLAND, A $€ cellent old-fashioned Grass Bleached Linens of the past eneration, which lasted a ifetime. Renowned all over “ Old Bleach" Huckabac Towe. Embroidery Linen, Glass-Cloths, hia Observ> that & BLEACH” is stamped on every Towel and Of all first-class Drapers throughout Great Britain, the Colonies, and the Uni 5 and judge for yourself. enuine revival of the ex- | As supplied to the House of Commons and Leading Clubs. Superior to and Cheaper than any of the Foreign the world for superiority of manufacture,exquisitefinish and durability. 2? Seema. THE Bleach me TABLE WATER In Seirts, Pints ano Quanrts. Proprietors :—*' ST. RONAN’S WELLS” and MINERAL WATER Co., LTD., INNERLEITHEN, N.B, London Depot: 66, FINSBURY PAVEMENT, E.C. (eer Gerace Plate Powder NON-MERCURIAL. Zinen. Diaper, & Damask Towels, ed & Hem-stitched Towels, Huckaback & Fancy , Bird's Eye &Nursery Diaper, PillowLinen, 'ea-Cloths, &c. nited States. Ask to see them the Registered Trade Mark "Universally admitted to be iv they are the genuine manufacture of the ‘“‘OLD | The Best and Safest Article for Cle BLEACH” LINEN Co., M: facturers and Bl h Electro-Plate,@&c. SIX GOLD MEDALS. Randalstown, Ireland. Sold everywhere, in Boxes, 15., 25. 6d., and 4s. 6d. BIRD'S | the House and successful Housekeeper. | Cookery. CUSTARD | POWDER Makes a perfect high-class Custard at a minimum of cost and trouble.. Used by all the Leading Diplomées of the South Kensington School of Invaluable also for a variety of Sweet Dishes, recipes for which accompany each packet. NO EGGS! NO RISK! NO TROUBLE! The unfailing resource of every Lady of SCOTLAND'S BEST. FORGING AHEAD! Pattisons Whisky SOLD EVERYWHERE.

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. OBTAINABLE AT ALL RESTAURANTS BARS AND IF ASKED FOR. MARTELL’S THREE STAR BRANDY —BLUE AND THE ONLY GENUINE. SILVER LABEL— CHAPPED HANDS 6d. 1/-& 2/6 # per box. MARRIS’S ALMOND TABLETS Will improve the appearance of the hands and skin, however neglected they may have been. Of all Perfumers and Chemists. Proprictors—R, HOVENDEN & SONS, 30-33, BERNERS STREET, W., and 91—95, CITY ROAD, E.C., LONDON. A TOILET POWDER FOR THE COMPLEXION, ALSO FOR The NURSERY, ROUGHNESS materials. Price 1s. In three tints— Blanche, Naturelle, Rachel. To be had of Chemists, Perfumers, &c. Wholesale; R. HOVENDEN & SONS, Berners &t., W., and City Rd., E.C., London. FORTNUM & MASON, Lrp. NOW READY New List of DELICACIES, LUXURIES, BONBONNIERES, FANCY BOXES, AND CONTINENTAL NOVELTIES of EVERY DESCRIPTION. FORTNUM & MASON, Lro., 181, 182, 183, PICCADILLY, W. HOOPING COUGH, CROUP. ROCHE'S HERBAL EMBROCATION. The celebrated effectual cure without internal medicine. Sole Wholesale Agents, W. EDWARDS & SON, 157, Queen Victoria Street, London. Sold by all Chemists. Price 4s. per bottle. Paris—ROBERTS, 5, Rue de la Paix. New York—FOUGERA & Co., North William Street. NIGHT LIGHTS ae LIGHT CO. Ltd., Cricklewood, London, N.W. COLT’S NEW DOUBLE-ACTION 32 CAL. POCKET REVOLVER With Ejector and Solid Frame, is the Latest and Best Revolver made for It Supersedes all others. Travellers and Cyclists. National Rifle Association Meeting, Bisley, 1898. QE™ Out of 306 Prizes Shot for, 219 were won with COLT’S Revolvers, COLT’S TARGET REVOLVERS AND LIGHTNING RIFLES. All Arms are made of the best materials that can be obtained, and the workmanship is unexcelled. Price List Free. COLT’S PATENT FIREARMS M’F’C. CO., 26, GLASSHOUSE STREET, PiccApiLiy Circus, LONDON, W. COOK’S “HYGIENIC” TOOTH « vesreor’tevriace " RIVIERA” SOAPS To be obtained of all Chemists and at the Stores. FOR THE DELICATE SKINS OF LADIES AND CHILDREN. SAVORY & MOORE'S INFANTS’ FOOD Sold Everywhere. Used in the Royal Nurseries. Tins ls., 2s., 5s., 10s. For INFANTS. ELLINV Samples post free from : OO D S Mellin’s Food Works, Peckham, S.E, SOIIVANI #°4

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899, eS S SSS ASSS SS ——— AAAS SAAS WeAane SS 4 4244 , Watt MAMMALIA LMU IAS Yj (LU gat ithiditees 4 4 4p Yd = Se RAN WY SAN WR NUR AN WS VAAN Nw ANY WA AWN \ 1} ’ uh j Lt \ ND Nel BRA { 4 OMININLY LL) De Vb PN i nN) vy RN Nit \ NAN NY SARA NN NaARUMENON RNR ‘ WN \ " ANS i ! NYAS NY i Ny NN iV BRON) ANN UY SS A.D. 1900 and something.) ND THE TSAR PROCEEDED, FOLLOWED BY A BRILLIANT STAFF, TO INSPECT THE VIRTUOUS AND HARMLESS REMNANT OF THE Russtan Troops. (Tsarskoe Selo. FACT THAT THE FIRST RESULTS OF GENERAL DISARMAMENT AND UNIVERSAL PEACE WERE JUST A TRIFLE LUGUBRIOUS AND DEPRESSING THE MILLENNIUMSKY REVIEW. Tuer IMPERIAL MAJESTIES THE KAISER A Ir Is NO USE DISGUISING THE

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. FD a THE TURF APHORISMS OF DARBY JONES FOR 1899. Every “jug” must have his mug”! Every jock must know his “ crock” ! Every ae find a payer! Every tout—uncertain scout! Every owner—public “loaner”! Every trainer—stable gainer! Every donkey “ plunge” a “ monkey”! Every plunger—future “sponger ” ! Snotthinn will so go round Till a better turf be found! “ A COUPLE OF DERBY DAYS. (Extracts from Two Diaries.) Old Style—The Early Sixties.— The great event has been reached at last, the great day of the year—for what are the Oaks and the Leger compared with the Derby? The House of Commons has ad-| journed as a matter of course. London has been emptied into Epsom. Not a soul is in town, except at the Academy. People there because they know every one else is away at the races. The clubs with their coaches, the road with its numberless vehicles, and the fun of the course! And the betting, and the walks in the paddock, and the luncheon on the Hill! Why, the werld stands still for the carnival of Epsom! Such anevent! Once a year! I wonder if I shall ever forget the Derby Day? ~ New Style—The Later Nineties.— Dear me! I know that something or other hap- pens to-day, because I made a knot in my handkerchief. Sure it was this date. Will the paper help me? The House of Commons hard at work. Nothing unusual there. London season in full swing. All the theatres and concert-rooms crowded. | Novelty, perhaps, worn off. The leading club windows as well occupied as ever. Piccadilly and the Park thronged. And | what was it that I proposed to remember? | For the life of me cannot recollect. The Levee? No; went there on Monday. Memory evidently going. Knot in the handkerchief must mean something. Any- thing to do with the ups and downs of life? Why, of course, the Downs! To be sure. It is the Blue Ribbon of the Turf. Fancy forgetting what used to be considered the event of the year! I wonder if I shall ever remember the Derby Day ? Charles (soliloquising). ‘‘HA—I’M NOT EXACTLY EQUAL TO THAT DOOCID GWEEK FELLAH, ADONIS, DON’TCHERKNOW ; BUT, DASH IT ALL, THERE’S A SOMETHING ABOUT ME THAT POSI- TIVELY FASCINATES THE WaAnptrEs !” PADDY TO HIS PIG. Oon! Piggy dear, an’ did ye hear But no, me jew’l!! Oi’m not so cru'l, The thraitors what they say? To kill an’ murther dead The rint is due, an’ oh! ’tis you, The chum that’s ate out ov me plate, Me darlin’, that’s to pay. An’ shared the fam’ly bed. _ So you, whose squale is music rale Oi would be loike a fool to stroike To me—the rascals hint A frind to plaise a foe— : That you must doi, an’ plaise, for whoy?— If one must doi, why then, says Oi, The landlord wants his rint! The landlord, he must go. BROTHERLY SARCASM. Mabel. ‘‘He® HADN’T THE FACE TO TRY TO KISS ME!” Fred. ‘‘ SUPPOSING, MY DEAR, YOU HADN’T THE CHEEK TO TEMPT HIM!”

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. EASTER MANCUVRES. Extract from Private Letter.—April 1. ‘I’M AFRAID MILLY AND I HAVE PUT OUR RESPECTIVE FEET IN IT THIS TIME. WE THOUGHT WE WOULD TEST OUR CAPACITIES AT HosPITAL WORK, AND ATTACH OURSELVES TO Pa’s REGIMENT—OF COURSE, WITHOUT TELLING PA—AND WERE GETTING ALONG QUITE NICELY WITH A SOLDIER WHO WASN’T VERY WELL, WHEN WE MET PA AND THE GENERAL AND HIS REGIMENT. THEY TOOK AWAY THE PATIENT, AND JUDGING FROM PA’s LOOKS, THERE’S A WARM TIME COMING.” AN UNCONSCIOUS HUMORIST. “Goop morNnING, Mrs. Hopces. I WAS SORRY TO HEAR THAT | YOUR SON DIDN’T GET THE SITUATION AFTER ALL.” **No, Miss, Herr Von Angler (who is very short-sighted). ‘Har I some Fisu THERE WAS A DEAL 0’ PEN-WORK TO DO, AN’ THEY SAID AS OW ANY-| KILLED? AcH, YA! I HAVE ONE TWO HOURS CATCHED, AND HE BODY AS COULDN’r WRITE VERY WELL WASN’T LEGIBLE.” MOVED NOT HAS. FOR SURE HE IS KILLED.”

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. AFTER-DINNER THOUGHTS. I.—PrenimMinaky PReoavtion. Tuere are few more charming than a well-planned philosopher has remarked, the success of a good dinner depends quite as much upon what is on the chairs as it is concerned with what is on the tables. The assertion might be put more strongly. dinner of herbs where bright than a dainty banquet with insufferable bores. If the wine is bad you need not drink it; if the meats are r and ill- cooked, you can eat bread. ut you can’t et away from your right and left neigh- ur, bore they never so drearily. Like Sterne’s Starling. you “can’t get out.” Doctors enjoy in this respect an advan- tage over their patients. you are a doc- tor, and in doubt about your company or your dinner, play a messenger. Suppose the dinner is fixed for 8 o’clock. By half- past you will pretty well know what’s on the table and what’s on the chairs. Have your messenger arrive sharp on the stroke of the half-hour, bringing a note. If all is well, you nod your head sagaciously, murmur, “I thought so,” and tell the servant there is no answer. If you are in for a mauvaise hour and a half, plead urgency; make your apologies; go off to your club; have a pint of decent claret, a cut off the joint, and a restful evening. This arrangement serves a double debt to pay. It spreads wholesome idea of the extent and urgency of your business, and at the same time delivers you from the burden of what promised to be a fearsome night. A modification of this simple device is possible to the wary diner-out who does not belong to the medical profession. Be- fore starting for an unfamiliar or doubtful dinner-table, address to yourself a tele- a (it may purport to come from “P. oots ”) timed to arrive at 8.30. If it finds you dying to get off, here is your oppor- tunity. Il.—Apvice To THoss aBout To Dine ovrT. As Sir H Thompson and other wise men know, eight is the model number for a dinner-party. The difficulty in the pres- sure of oe life is that, having care- fully selected your seven, mixing them with all the forethought and skill requisite to making a salad, one or two may at the last moment fall out. Of course, there are the highways and by-ways at your disposal. But recourse to them rather spoils your human salad. Ten is all right, and with care twelve is possible. When it comes to | with your knife. party, none | more dolorous than a bad one. As a great | Better is a} ople are, | | sixteen or twenty, with centre-pieces and | exercise of working the lever is most pots of flowers down the middle of the | healthful. Each guest takes a turn at it, table, you might as well dine at a table @héte. For the pleasure or misery of the sitting you are entirely dependent upon your neighbour on the right or left. It is here where the telegram or mes- |senger from the surgery comes as a boon and a blessing to man. Once seated at the dinner-table and no hope of deliverance, try and make the best ou will not eat peas | of it. Of course hat is an elementary rule of good manners. There are other tendencies to be guarded against. When asparagus is just coming in, and costs thirty shillings for a moderate-sized bundle, don’t (supposing you are served early in the round) empty the dish, or even trans- fer to your plate a full half of its contents. If the dinner begins with turtle soup, and your neighbour on the right, not caring for green fat, leaves a succulent piece on his plate, whatever you do, don’t stick your fork into the morsel and convey it to your mouth. If you feel temptation overcoming you, look the other way. Don’t drink your soup out of the plate as if it were a saucer. on’t ask how much anything on the table cost. Don’t stuff a corner of your serviette between your P > & ns : a in this dish that I do not remember to have | neck and shirt-collar as if you were going to be shaved. Don’t emphasize argument by brandishing a knife. Don’t leave the room before the ladies; and when the spirit-lamp is handed round, don’t blow it out when you have lit your own cigar. Tt1.—A Rare Feast. Some dinner-givers affect eccentricity in their menu. Here’s a copy of an invita- tion received last Lent: “Dear Duke,— Come and dine with me on Thursday. You shall have bread made of wheat that browned under the sun before Moses crossed the Red Sea; Butter churned in the spacious days of Queen Elizabeth; Wine that was getting up in years at the time of the Armada. For dessert there be apples that grew on trees in the first century.” Interesting this rather than attractive. Bread likely to be a bit stale, and as for the butter—um! However, I went, and it was all as the host had said. The wheat out of which the bread was made was dis- | covered in a chamber in one of the Pyra- mids. The butter—really not bad, though lacking in flavour—was found on a ledge in a well in Ireland, where, while the centuries rew, it lay in a crock set in icy water. | he wine came from a vault in the ruined city of Corinth, and the apples half filled a jar taken from the ruins of Pompeii. A nicely arranged dinner ; expensive, but searcely filling. to young couples. beginning house- keeping. They had better start with Caneton de Rouen a& la Presse. This has nothing to do with modern journalism or the Press Bazaar. The duck is brought into the dining-room roasted ; all the flesh is cut off; take the bones, body and all, put them in the press; then just crunch them. The resultant moisture poured over the slices of duck is appetising, whilst the Not to be recommended | | the others singing in chorus, “ Heave ho, yeo!” It is not de rigueur, especially when ladies are present, to remove the coat and | turn up the shirt-sleeves before approach- ing the press. IV.—A Naw Soup (“Soupgon de VEarwig”). Dinine the other night with an old | friend at home in one of the Channel Islands, we had a sublime soup. Simply compounded, as all good soup should with a flavour of vegetable and a faint faraway reminiscence of a game leg—whether of partridge or grouse I’m not sure. But beyond the ordinary flavour of successful soup, not unfamiliar to the alate, there was a distinct SOMETHING met with before. Tried to pump the Member for Sark, but he’s very close in these matters. “T’ll give you a dinner,” he said, “ with pleasure. Always like to have at my table a man who knows what he’s eating and drinking. But when it comes to letting you into all the kitchen secrets, that’s another pair of sleeves. The soup is good, I know, and I’m you recognise that eculiar touch of flavouring which might ve escaped the notice of a less acute and well-trained palate. But don’t ask me how it is achieved. Have another spoonful?” Don’t usually take two helpings of soup, but the temptation iecietiiin. Looking down on plate, thought I saw something unusual. Here, peradventure, was the secret. Perhaps it was; at any rate it was an earwig. Sark was, for him, a little taken aback when he saw me fish the crea- ture out and lay it on the rim of the plate. “T suppose it got in by accident,” I said. “You are not going to draw me,” he replied, cempewhat Binolectnele. noticed he didn’t finish the soup on his plate. All the same, it was the best I have tasted for a long time. Try it. Strictly an Autumn dish. In September earwigs are cheap, especially in the Island of Sark. Only, in order to avoid narrow ae, the soup, before serving, should carefully strained. WHEN pigs and wombats o’er the mad Rival in flight the swallow, Then shall our t leaders lead And followers shall follow. Meantime, while followers advance O’er bramble, brake and hollow, Our leaders, biding each his chance, Do not so much as follow.

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899, 4 Ye, Z Ade ACA BES (tte Mase =a ~ = ie & ‘a MS WAN Nae eee ¥ MeL) y \ \\ oes dy id Add + WY Mill “is “i fl bi j 4 ‘ het Hoo so % é 1G OP». a . jonssey ‘ e 2 7 a FISHING INTERROGATORIES. No. 2. FISHING INTERROGATORIES. No. 1. ‘¢WHERE’S YER TICKET?”

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. A SONG OUT OF SEASON. Let others sing the joyance, So-called, of Christmas cheer, I view with veiled annoyance This section of the year ; What though our rheumy noses With fog are painted black, I -ay I sigh for roses, [ want the Summer back. We sat beside the heat-waves Which I shall always miss — Till memory, O my sweet, waives That dream of melting bliss ; ; We plucked in various places Old Tempus on the wing; By day we did the Races, By night we did The Ring. ’Tis true our brows were moister Than I should care to say ; We could not eat an oyster, Oysters are death in May! The joys of Monte Carlo Were wanting—that is true, But never mind! at Marlow We “ punted”’ all we knew. Queen’s had its bike-gymkhana, The Park its church-parade ; We read Dreyfusiana In Richmond’s pleasing shade ; We patronised the pictures, Unsheathed our critic-stings, And passed amazing strictures On Art and other things. Putney provided polo, Henley the College-barge ; I warbled (once) a solo There by the verdant marge ; At Lord’s (in lovely weather) We lunched upon the lawn ; We supped, like wolves, together, Together danced till dawn. Compare the treats that follow In Winter’s weary train! To smile and smile and swallow Mince-pies that make for pain! So, bouk we have the plumber To heal us when we crack, I say I sigh for Summer, I want the Season back ! \ ) ( wll S .

Page 19

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Page 20

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Page 21

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w: Cime at the Helm.

Page 22

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Page 23

PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. THE COMING CENTURY. ScENE—One of Sairy enchantinent in Bouverie Street. London. Tourist. Why, what is this magnificent place, with its gorgeous palaces, splendid grounds, and indescribable tout ensemble? Resident. It is quite the finest place in the world. Tourist. So I see. Is it the Crystal Palace transplanted from Sydenham ? Resident. Oh, no, a far more important establishment. Tourist. Then is it the property of Royalty? Is it a combination of Windsor, Buckingham Palace, and Balmoral ? Resident. Yes; it is a combination of the places you have mentioned, but it is pri- vate property. Tourist. Indeed! Then what is it ? Resident. The greatest wonder of the world, the glory of the universe, the ex- treme limit of civilisation. Tourist. And it is called ? Resident. The new offices of Punch. Tommy (reading). “ George the Third sat on the throne for sixty years.” What! Auntie, did he never get off ? Enter a Tourist doing the lions of ‘“‘Open LocKs, WHOEVER KNOCKS. ” THE COMING CENTURY. ScENE—The corner of St. James’s Street at the top of Piccadilly. Enter would-be traveller. Traveller. Where is the nearest railway station ? Messenger. You must be a stranger! Railways were abolished years ago. Traveller. Then can I get about in a balloon ? Messenger. Oh, they burst up as soon as they were started. Traveller. Then can’t I go by electricity ? Messenger. Not since electricity has been superseded by the new force. Traveller. Then, wasn’t there a pneu- matic-tube conveyance ? Messenger. Quite out of date. That sort of thing never paid a farthing dividend. Traveller. Can I travel by the Thunder- bolt Utilisation Company ? Messenger. Oh, that affair was closed by the County Council. The cars were ir- regular and uncertain of arriving at their advertised destination, and there were heaps of accidents. Traveller. Well, how do I get to Putney ? Messenger. Oh, that’s simple enough. You get to Putney and everywhere else by mail coach.

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. THE UNKNOWN FRIEND. (An Incident of the Holidays.) Ir’s very odd! I know the face, Ore couldn’t easily for, him. But yet I can’t exactly place The last occasion when I met him ; In London, doubtless, I had ed With just a nod, polite rot frigid, But, while these weeks at Slocombe last, My etiquette is not so rigid ; Thus, seeing one whose face I know, I felt that “ Here’s a fellow-sinner Enduring the same penance,” so I promptly bade him come to dinner. I wonder why he showed surprise ? My friendliness was unexpected, Yet that but partly justifies Such diffidence ere he accepted. He seemed well-dressed (although I think Those large-sized checks should be abo- lished) ; His black straw hat quite made me blink, It was so beautifully polished.— His hat! Good ious! Fatal day! His hat! Why, that explains the matter. I wonder what my wife will say? That fellow is—my London hatter! THE AUGUSTAN AGE. Now is the time when we pack our portmanteaus, study our Bradshaws, and drive to the station. Yet it must be con- fesased that a train-journey is wearisome, and most of all if one travels in solitude. But why should any one be compelled to do this? Why should not the railway companies provide agreeable travelling companions, to be hired, at a moderate fee, for the journey? The advantages of such a system are so obvious, that the only wonder is that it has not been adopted long ago. You have, let us suppose, to travel from London to Exeter by yourself. To read | in the train is notoriously bad for the eye- sight. To write is even worse, not to | speak of the fact that your friends won’t | be able to read your letters, and even may be led to infer from your handwriting that you have taken to drink. No; what you | really need is an agreeable companion to enliven you. Accordingly, you will con- sult the superintendent, and will ascertain from him what members of the travelling- companion staff are disengaged. He will hand you some such list as the following : — SCENE ON Tommy ON HIS NATIVE HEATH—HIS NAME McTompKIns ! Boe or Back Mup, HIS GUN HAS GONE OFF “Lord D.—Very aristocratic; gives a high-class flavour to any journey; new and exclusive anecdotes about the Upper Ten; can only be hired by first-class pas- sengers. “Miss E.—Charming lady companion ; describes each place of interest passed on the journey; also an authority on mil- linery. “Mr. F.—A favourite with artists and literary men. If desired, will discuss ex- clusively his fellow-traveller’s works.” THE MOORS. He HAS TUMBLED INTO A BY ITSELF—-SO HAS HIS Party. HE HAS LOST HIS FLAsK, HIS CIGAR-CASE, PirE, AND MATCHES, AND HASN’T THE SLIGHTEST IDEA HOW FAR HE Is FROM “‘ Home.” “CAL THIS ‘SI ORT’ !” “Mr. A.—Radical politician ; can criti- cise the Government by the hour; very suitable for any Conservative who likes argument. “Mr. B.—Humorist; guaranteed to keep the most melancholy passenger in roars of laughter throughout the journey ; epigrams and witticisms quite unrivalled. “Mr. C.—Very useful companion; can play chess, draughts, and écarté; also a musician, and will discuss Wagner intelli- gently. From this list you will select the tra- velling companion who seems most likely to suit you, with the result that the hours of your journey, instead of being weari- some, will prove wholly delightful. An- other incidental advantage of this system will be that it will create a new profession for the impoverished upper classes. Instead of emigrating, or having to stoop to trade, they will become travelling companions, and will earn comfortable salaries with very little trouble.

Page 25

PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899.

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. — MR. PUNCH’S LEXICON OF SPORT. Keeper. A martyr to foxes, who de- votes his energies to keeping feathered bipeds alive in order that the unfeathered variety may slay them. He absorbs in tips the balance of a sportsman’s ready money, frequently beats a covert only to be beaten observance of a fox. If he does not say | “yoicks” and “tally ho” as often as the song-writers suppose, the fault may be imputed to a nature which cares little for any music except that of the hounds whom he often rates—not perhaps as hi they deserve. Though he is not given to trundling things, he has a whoo-hoop of his own, which he sometimes rolls out with great effect. Usually a perfectly honest | and straightforward man, he yet enjoys | carrying a mask—but only after he has outmanceuvred the wiliest animal in exist- ence by going very straight. He has firmly-rooted opinions in regard to scent, but though he knows nothing about it, he knows quite as much as anybody else. Fretp. No false inferences as to its nature and appearance should be drawn THE FIRST OF SEPTEMBER. DEAD FOR A DvcarT. by the back-flight of cocks and hens, and, though he is not a cricketer, often in- dulges in a good long drive, shouts “ over” with much persistency, and is sometimes, but not always, missed. Gun. Is sometimes masculine and some- times neuter. The feminine variety, though not entirely obsolete, is unfavour- ably regarded by the best authorities. A dangerous gun may be inoffensive to fur and feather, but is a source of constant apprehension to his neighbours, who can be heard remarking after such a gun has shot, that he poe J himself to be shot. When this gun’s gun goes off, the rest of the party would like, so imitative is human nature, to do the same. You can choke a gun to make it kill, and cast it off in order to use it better, but if it jams con- stantly, you never preserve it. Huntsman. A being who is honoured both in his leather breeches and in his by the young, e.g., “ bags I,” implying an from the common phrase “the Field a Monkey.” The Field never contains a favourite; hence the expression, “a fair field and no favour.” A good fellow may be a shocking field, and, therefore, a poor all-round cricketer. On the other hand, a good field will stop cuts, and at the same time, paradoxically enough, may reap eter- nal fame. Bac. A _ metaphorical expression to which birds are brought by keepers, beaters and guns. It is a curious fact, hitherto insufficiently noticed by mathematicians that if you add together the individual exploits of a party of guns, they invariably exceed the actual total of the . Bags, like drinks, may be mixed, but the result in the case of bags is generally agreeable, es | owing to its association with cold ead and not with hot coppers. The verb active, “to bag,” is employed irregularly ly as shillings and costs.” eager desire for acquisition, and “he | bagged my wind,” implying a no less eager | desire for revenge. is latter sort of bag- ging is often due to boxing. Rop. times of fish, more frequently of menda- city. It is not generally known that if all the tall stories told by the users of rods were placed one on the top of the other they would reach from the earth to the | moon. Hence the word “lunatic” is often applied to those who fish from punts, and drink cold whiskey and water. Some rods are spared, others are split, but the former variety only spoils a child, whereas the latter often kills a fish. Rods, like good jokes, have a point, and, like practical jokers, have a butt; but if you give your butt to trout or salmon, the fish, a morose, cold-blooded creature, is rarely pleased. Wuee.t. A dual noun, since a man who speaks of his wheel always means his bi- cycle. Was once called “safety,” on the lucus a non lucendo principle, but has now given rise to a new heading, “Bicycle Fatalities,” in the newspapers. Generally fed on oil, punctures anda anners, always breaks down ten miles m anywhere causes more hard language than golf, and breaks more bones than football. After and before certain hours, wheels become like acrostics and have absence of a light causes a wheel to be immediately seen by a policeman, where- upon a magistrate generally says, “ten very man’s wheel is better and cheaper than every other man’s. THE COMING CENTURY. ScenE—Lord’s Cricket Ground. Enter a Member of the Marylebone Club. Commissionaire. Pardon me, Sir, but why are you wearing flannels ? Member. Because I am going in. Commissionaire. In, Sir? Where? Member. Why, for an innings at cricket. Commissionaire. I thought you had made a mistake, Sir. They don’t play cricket here. Member. Not play cricket! Why, have they built over the ground? ommissionaire. Oh, no, Sir. They have only extended the space claimed for refreshments at the end of the last century. | Member. t do you mean? Cricket abolished, and only refreshments? Is the place a hotel ? Commissionaire. No, Sir, a restaurant. A simple object, productive some- ights. Yet the | | |

Page 27

PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899.

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WE HUNTED IN CouPpLES AND THREES, AS IT IS A BIT DULL TRAMPING ALONG ALONE. MATER GENERALLY FOOZLES HER SHOTS, I DID MOST OF HER WORK TOO, BY THE WAY, HOW ABSURDLY NERVOUS MEN ARE ‘ GUNNING.’ AND AS THE

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R ¢ Richardson * 3. oak ul HARD LINES. Starter (to brave featherweight who is struggling with adversity). ‘Now THEN, SNOOKS, NONE OF YOUR TRICKS HERE!”

Page 28

PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. SHAKSPEARE’S SHOW. ‘*A MipsumMER Nieut’s Dream.”

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. ees RICH MON D GEM 3 ALL DOCTORS Max Greger’s i aan ————— Carlowitz IS THE SAFEST, __ DINNER WINE SOUNDEST And recommend it alike to the Invalid, the Convalescent and the Robust. REJUVENATING. INVIGORATING. “RICH IN PHOSPHATES.”—Baron Liebig. | See that every cork bears the brand ““MAX GREGER,”’ without it the Wine is not genuine. Ia Bottles and Screw-Stoonered Flagons. S From 15s. to GOs. per doz. ~~. OF ALL WINE MERCHANTS. Sole Proprietors: SEPTIMUS PARSONAGE & Co.,Ltd, CIGARETTES. 45, St. Thomas Street, LONDON, S.E. U N EQUA LLE D COOSSSSSSSOCSSOSOOSSOEOEOO 66680000 0C06653906088608000900 06090656669 862390 FOR DELICACY AND FLAVOR, OVIS is not only a nice tasty Bread, but very valuable as a digestive. Hovis Bread is baked and delivered daily by most Family Bakers in the British Isles : 6¢. and 1s. samples of Bread and Bincaite will be sent on receipt of stamps by the Hovis-Bread Flour Co. Ld., Millers, Macclesfield. Nearest Hovis Bakers’ address sent en application.

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1599.

The Strand Musical Magazine. GRAND CHRISTMAS DOUBLE NUMBER.) ***fsecus, PRICE ONE SHILLI NG. REAL German Houow Grown. | Ready 1st December. Contains Twenty excellent Songs and Pieces, besides Illustrated Articles, Biographies, Interviews, &c. Ivory Handle mn 1s. $a: | Russis leather case, aia Obtainable at all Bookstalls and Newsagents, or from MAGNESIA. the Publisher, 84, New Bond Street, London, W. a

See Wine Carte CORDON HOTELS. ROLDORY RESTAURANT. FRA T GANI. And of all Wine Merchants and on “ Superior Vintage Wines of Italy.” LONDON, E.C.

oPP RaZop Black Handle ...... 5s. 6d. | A Pair, Ivory Handles, in

Ra ITE FOR PAMPHLET. “Shav 1 "s Kit and Outfit,” Post Free. Wholesale: OSBORNE, GARRETT, & CO., London, W.

DINNEFORD’S

Safest Aperient for Ladies and Children.

“No Better Food.” *iir7 a"

Fry< Pure CLEANLY, EFFICIENT, ENERGETIC, PORTABLE, SURE. C ad, THE ORIGINAL & ONLY GENUINE. BEWARE OF IMITATIONS. | 2785 GOLD MEDALS, &c. FOR PLASTERS. Con cen tr at ed Adopted by the Paris Hospitals, the French Army

RIGOLLOT’S MUSTARD PAPER OR MUSTARD LEAVES,

and Navy, and the British Navy.

Page 31

PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. ~ , j . 7 : : ' ) L j i © Ar THE FIRST SHOT M Bucecres FIRST STAG LAY PROoWE @ELATED with success -M B. RUSHED uP ANO SEATEO HIMSELF ASTRIOE Hig VICTIM ga St: eee \ k Ro) ) NS aM PR — Si / @ Bur Aras iT WAS ONLY SLICHTLY STUNNED. ¥ AND PROMPTLY ROSE To THE. OCCASION Si d/ af Ad‘, t, % iT ANG hd Nd i Ly vn Hal 4) SN ay aL ARP . 8 VEL '1/ ap! 1h AGS, ‘Vid,> ye pea: a a ee a @ Tre Law oF Gravity , © PLACED MATTERS UPON PROVED TOO STRONC Ft A SATISPACTORY FOOTING a WHEN A LUCKY SHOT FROMTHE KEEPER ONCE MORE He ob — MR. BUGGLE’S FIRST STAG. el i ee “Te,

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. of course it’s an immense convenience having everything under one roof. . . . Are you a member? No, I use my sister- in-law’s number, and they don’t seem to mind. Are you? No, and I always find that, so long as you pay for everything as you get it, they never bother you about numbers and things. . Oh! they’re very obliging, I will say that. Etc., ete. In THE Fancy Goops DEepaRTMENT. A Perplexed Lady (to her Companion, laintively). If I could only see something ere that would do for Aunt Joanna—but no matter what I get her, she’s sure to find something amiss with it! (Toa Youth- ful Assistant.) I want a present suitable for an elderly lady—something a little un- common, you know, and not too expensive. THE PROBLEM OF THE PRESENT. (A Sketch at the Auxiliary Co-operative Naval, Military, and Civilian Stores.) In THE VESTIBULE. Everybody (to everybody else, with an air of surprise which might be uncomplimen- THE FIRST OF OCTOBER. Tue OLD-TIME SPorTSMAN. tary if it meant anything). What? You; Youthful Assistant. Certainly, madam. buying presents, too! General Chatter. Such a business to find | taining pair of opera-glasses, small ivorine something to suit everybody! You can’t) hand-glass and powder-puff? Most accept- give them the same thi two years able present for any lad running, can youP .. . Simple| Aunt Joanna’s Nrece. enough. If I want something for a man, | has never set foot in a theatre in her life, I get him a pen-wiper, and if it’s a| and never will. woman, a pin-cushion. They’re always| Y. A. (with welcome, my dear, and they ’re things one | put you in a can’t have too many of. ... indeed. What a good idea! I must re-| glasses if you prefer it. member that. . . . I’ve beenhere the; Awnt J.’s N. That wouldn’t do either— entire day, and haven’t nearly finished 7 the lady is a strict Nonconformist. presents yet—so much to see before decid- | 2 ri (rising to the occasion). In that ing. Quite hopeless waiting for the case, madam, you might have it fitted with lift. . . . I’ve been up and down those a pair of folding curling-tongs and patent dreadful stairs till I can hardly stand—but | heater, which will work out a little cheaper. resence of mind). We could rayer k and “Hymns Have you seen the new matinée bag, con-| Not for a lady who f No, | Ancient and Modern” instead of the opera-| Aunt J.’s N. (to her Companion). Poor | Maria sent Aunt a manicure-case last | Christmas, and she’s never forgiven her! \(To Assistant.) No, I’m t | wouldn’t guite—it ought to be some article for the table. Y.A. Here’s a -_ novelty that’s having a great run this »s m— an electro-plated porcupine. — The quills, as you perceive, are all toothpicks. . Aunt Js N. Oh! I couldn’t possibly. Haven’t you got something with a little— more—well, sentiment about it P Y. A. I see, madam. How would some- thing in the nature of a napkin-ring answer the purpose? I have them in real tortoise- | shell—with any two initials in silver. | Awnt J.’s N. She has any number of rd. Cnet d by this proof . A. (appearing impresse Ea opulence). Has she ey madam P | Then, perhaps an Art table-gong in ham- mered copper with drum-stick complete— most useful and elegant gift for an elderly lady—we are selling a great many of them. | Aunt J.’s N. I gave her a gong on her | last birthday, but she never uses it. Y. A. (amazed at such apathy). Really, madam? (At theend of his resources.) I’m | afraid I hardly know what to suggest— , | unless (desperately) the lady would appre- | ciate a gum-bottle ? | Aunt J.’s N. (with a mournful pre- science). No, I’m sure she wouldn’t care | |for a gum-bottle. Do you know, I think | we’ll just have another look thro the |other departments, and then, if we don’t—— | [The conclusion dies away into an apologetic | mumble as she moves on with her Com- panion. In THE Toys anp Games DEPARTMENT. | Particular Lady. I—a—want some sort | of game for two small boys about eight or nine. | Assistant. For juveniles of that age I can strongly recommend the game of “ As- cot.” You wind the little horses along on a reel at the end of a string, and the one | which gets in first is the—ah—winner. | P. DL. (severely). I should be sorry, indeed, to give any boys a game that en- courages a taste for the turf. , A. Of one . ae have that endency. ere is a highly amusing r) called—ah—“ Tiddledywinks.” _ P. L. (icily). Tiddledy—I beg your | pardon ? A. (with dignity). Tiddledy-winks, madam. P. L. And pray how do you—a—tiddle- dywink P A. It is—ah—not one of my recreations, madam, but you will find f«!l instructions supplied with each set, and I understand that they are so simple that the merest child can easily become—ah—proficient. P.L. And go tiddledywinking all over the place? A most undesirable accom- plishment in my opinion. Pardon me—I think, madam, you are misled by the associations of the title, which may, perhaps—ah—verge on vul- garity, but the game itself is perfectly free rom objection, and popular with the most select and refined circles. _P.L. (firmly). The name is quite suffi- cient. at is this game—“ Bulls and Bears ”—like ? A. That, madam, is the latest thing out. You play it with cards and counters repre- senting various stocks and shares. Capit:! game for the nursery. P.L. Well, I don’t generally approve of cards for children, but this doesn’t seem 80 frivolous as most. It is on the Kinder- garten principle, I presume ?

Page 33

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899,

Page 34

PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899.

A. (at sea). I—ah—believe it is on the Kindlegarter principle, madam. ; P. L. (pleased). One’s always safe with | their things. I’ll take that game, please. | [She does.

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In tHE STATIONERY DEPARTMENT. Dolly (to Tommy). What are you getting for Granny Tommy. A paper-weight. Such a ripper! [He exhibits a miniature billiard-table, at which a scarlet demon in a state o Nature is playing a friendly match wit a skeleton as lightly attired. D. (envious’y). Oh, Tommy! let me give her that! T. I like that. When it’s my choice. But I tell you what. (Magnanimously.) There’s another with a red devil and a skeleton playing cards together. You can give Granny that, if you like. D. (dubiously). But aren’t they gambling, Tommy? Granny mightn’t like that. T. They needn’t be playing for money, need they, stupid ?

You might

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: ltt yy Ii Sir. THE FIRST OF NOVEMBER. ** VYoIcKs, OVER

D. (relieved). I never thought of that—| him, if I could come across one at all rea- } “Animal Grab” or| sonable—and respectable, of course. " Beggar my Neighbour,” ee it? | Mrs. Dobson (with the wisdom of experi- 7. course. But mind if I let| ence). You can’t get respectable statuary, you get that, don’t you go and blab about | not reasonable. it in the nursery, else all the kids will g0, Mrs. H. Oh! Idon’t know. When Mrs. giving her de and skeletons doing | Perkins was at Scarborough this Summer, things ! ; J | she bought a byutiful figger—lo-ovely it was D. Oh! no, I won’t. And with yours; —nearly three-quarters of a yard high, and and mine, she'll have just the right| a little damaged, such a job as she had to number, won’t she ? get a box to fit it, too. That was at an Aunt J.’s N. (more perplexed than ever).| auction in the Arcade. If I gave her a copying-press, the chances} Mrs. D. Ah! well, I don’t know what are she wouldn’t know what it was for.| you may do at Scarborough—but I’ve not No, I don’t see anything here. | seen many statutes that J should care to [She presses on forlornly. | send as a Christmas present. nee <s | Aunt J.’s N. (pensively, to her Com- oo. « panion). That pink cat with the green

rather sweet—but it’s not true enough to Nature to please Aunt Joanna. | did care for bric-d-brac. IN THE JEWELLERY DEPARTMENT. | Matron (to her husband). Do you know, | John, I really think we ought to give some little souvenir to Mademoiselle this Christmas. She was so good-natured about taking Bertie with his French last holidays, | and she got him on so well, too. ——~\\ | John. Certainly, Louisa. I quite agree.

| would do, eh? | Louisa. Do? Why, anybody might wear one! This is perfectly charming. If I could only afford it—but I’m much too poor just now. J. Oh! that’s all right. We'll have that, then. [He pays for it. L. Thanks ever so much—it’s awfully ee of you, John—gquite the prettiest rooch I’ve got! J. (blankly). But I say, I thought you wanted something for Mademoiselle! L. Oh! nothing so expensive as that— when she’s leaving us so soon, too! It would be simply throwing away your money, and I’m sure she would be the last to expect One of those dear little glass lockets with a lucky shamrock inside would be ample under the circumstances! | J. Why, hang it! they’re only two and fivepence halfnenny!

fo nce, but, personally, I think the outer are quite as nice, and, after all, the mere value of the gift is such a trifle— it’s the spirit in which it’s given, John! By the way, have you got half-a-crown? I can’t get at my own purse comfortably. Stranger (breathlessly, to Assistant). I say, has my wife been in here? Assistant. I really couldn’t inform you, Unless you could give me some de- Number ninety-nine That ’s my

scription of the lady | _ 8. Description ? thousand and ninety-two, Sir. ——— S | wife ! Ix THe Fine Art DEPARTMENT. Aunt J.’s N. (dolefully, as she drifts Mrs. Bodgers (to her friend Mrs. Porter). through). It’s not the slightest use sending I should rather like to send my sister-in-| her a trinket, when she never wears any law something in the artistic way—but I! jewellery but jet! don’t know. Caroline has so much taste! | Mrs. Porter. You don’t say so! I’d no| Ovrsrpe—LaTER. . idea of it. Aunt J.’s N. (rejoining her Companion, Mrs. B. Why, she’s aspinalled every-| with subdued triumph). Well, I saw some- thing in her drawing-room shrimp-pink | thing—just at the last moment, One of herself, my dear, and painted all the panels| those American patent things—a lemon- of the door with parrots out of her own| squeezer, walnut-cracker and potato-peeler head. |all in one. But whether it’s what she’ll Mrs. P. Parrots! Well, I should never | care for have supposed she had so much in her! | Companion (with perfunctory optimism). Mrs. B. Oh! she’s no favourite of mine,| Oh! I’m sure she ’ll love it! my dear—as you know—but I’m bound to| Aunt J.’s N. My dear, there’s no say- say she makes George a very good wife. | ing—it may take her fancy or it may not. Mrs. Hobson (to Mrs. Dobson). A terra- | All the same, I wish now I’d thought of cotta figger would be a neat present for | getting them to put a robin on it.

glass eyes and the blue pattern on it is | She never | | Think one of these little pearl brooches | L. There’s a larger size at three and |

Page 35

PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899.

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papayit" Hy yh. : (I . rn J iff “ie - Fenn de ry a, ¥ Paice cth mre ww} MOS oe iam a — a ¥ mn i = S\) RH Al. Aa LAND 91 ~ , fe A LARGE ORDER. Voice (from the other side of the Hedge). ‘‘Is THAT You, THOMSON ?” Thomson. ‘* YESSIR.” Voice. ‘* THEN LOOK SHARP AND JUMP OVER HERE WITH THAT SEconD Horse!” 1 Tl, ry ys | | Wi a

Qateepteeme, —$$ Mr. Punch. “‘How po, otp CHap? Back AGAIN TO MAKE US ti y ’ Str WILLIAM ASKED ME FOR THIS DANCE.” ‘* DID HE, THOUGH. | MISERABLE, EH?” AND WHAT DID you say?” “T sarp I WAS ENGAGED TO you, OF couRSE.”! Old Fog. ‘On! YES, MY Goop FrreND Mr. Puncu; sur I pon’? AH, THAT ’S AWFULLY SWEET OF You. I HAVE BEEN WANTING FOR A! SEEM TO MAKE YOU DISMAL.” LONG TIME TO ASK YOU IF J MIGHT TELL PEOPLE THAT!”

Mr. Punch. ‘No FEAR, OLD FeLLow. I acT AS YOUR ANTIDOTE!’

Page 36

THE LUDICROUS. Effie (at her first pantomime). ‘On, MUMMY, THERE ARB FAIRIES, AFTER ALL. I AM sO GLAD!” THE COMING CENTURY. Scene — The Thames Embankment. an Intelliyent Foreigner. Enter Intelligent Foreigner. Is this building the School Board ? Bystander. All these buildings belong to the School Board. I. F. Indeed. And is the rate a high one ? Bystander. Not so high as it was once. Now, it’s only nineteen and sixpence in the pound. I. F. And where are the schools ? Bystander. Oh, there are no schools. I. F. No schools! Why not? Bystander. They would be superfluous. Nowadays, everybody ’s educated. / ' J ichardson JONES HAS BEEN SO UNWISE AS TO GIVE A SANDWICH TO ONE OF THE Hovunps ! THE COMING CENTURY. ScEnE— Office of a Publisher. Enter a Genius. Genius. I want to see the manager of the book department. Boy. Oh, there isn’t one, Sir. Genius. Well, who looks after the pic- tures Boy. That’s done by machinery, Sir. Genius. Isn’t there a clerk who can ex- | amine patents. Boy. Quite unnesessary, Sir. Every- thing that can be invented has been in- vented. Genius. Well, I want to leave a novel, 4 erage and an idea. oy. You must be rather old-fashioned, Sir. All sorts of work is done, nowadays, by mental photography.

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PUNCH’S ALMANACK FOR 1899. 7 AGH) My , U7, / DD mai long soy MI i ; > —_ "™ Little Podgson (to Friend, who in a fit of exasperation has peppered his riotous dog). ‘‘ HERE! CONFOUND you, you Ip1oT! I GAVE Five . ~ | ” 9 Pounps For THAT Doc! | Farmer Bates. “‘Bur you DIDN’r FIND THAT BIG COCOA-NUT IN Friend. “‘ ALL RIGHT, OLD CHAP, ALL RIGHT! WORTH MORE, NOW. | pour Strockine, Bossiz ?” y > ERT 9 . , Leap Mink ON Property! | Bobbie. ‘No, Str. MA LENT ME ONE OF HERS!” +i | Hl) | }/ | ( N h ; wi \) | A REAL TREAT. Young Mother. ‘‘Ou, ALFRED, DO SEE WHAT A LOVELY CHRISTMAS PRESENT MAMMA HAS SENT US JUST IN TIME FOR your HOoipAy. Now you won't HAVE ANY DIFFICULTY IN TAKING THEM OUT TOGETHER WHILE I AND JANE GET THE DINNER READY!”

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S S N | x & SS ~ IS SS rat i ~ i | ie ‘* — SS Ls SS Linkman Time : 46 \™ 1898's CARRIAGE! BRADBURY aGNEW. & ©0O.. LD.. PRINTERS. LONDON AND TONBRIDGE. lq a> =

Page 39

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Page 40

“PUNCH’S ALM AN. AC K FOR 1899.

‘What do we live for, if not to Make Life less difficult for Each Other.’- Aa } 2 2 ™ And each good thought or action moves the dark world nearer to the sun.—Wwirrier. LIGHT WHEN THOU ELSE WERT BLIND! oe Pe Sees t Strength When Life’s Surges Rudest Roll. Millais’ Great Xmas, Heart! “ Millais himself was occasionally induced to repeat | the following anecdote, which is said. by a personal} friend to be new: I found myself (said the late P.R.A. seated one evening at a rather grand dinner, next toa very pretty gushing girl, to whom I had not been introduced. She fired into conversation directly she had finished her soup, and as it was May, began it with the inevitable question, ‘I suppose you've been to the Academy?’ I replied that I had. ‘And did you notice the Millais’? Didn't you think they were awful daubs? I can’t imagine how such things ever get hung——!’ She was going on gaily in the same strain, while I sat silent, when suddenly the amused smiles of those around her and the significant hush brought her to a sudden s¢of. She coloured. rather

painfully, and whispered to me in a frightened voice, | ‘For heaven’s sake, what have I done? Have I said! anything dreadful? Do tell me.’ ‘Not now,’ I replied. ‘Eat your dinner in peace, and I'll tell you by-and-by e.’| She did so, rather miserably, vainly trying to extract] from me at intervals what the matter was, and when the dessert came I filled up her glass with champagne, and told her to gulp it down very guickly when I counted three. She obeyed without protest, and I took the

opportunity when she couldn't speak. I grasped hand and said,‘ I am Millais, let’s be Friends,” MORAL . Never to blend our Pleasure or our Pride, with) — Sorrow of the Meanest Thing that Feels. | —WORDSWORTH. ‘ And such is Hu Life >) It glimmers like a meteor, and is gon WHAT HIGHER AIM CAN MAN ATTAIN THAN CONQUEST OVER HUMAN PAIN ? pMPORTANT TO TRAVELLERS AT HOME AND ABROAD.—Did the world stand still or did the generation that is to be

yenefit very fully by the expetie: ithered by their predecessors, but little necessity would exist for dwelling upon the spec ial recommenda- tions of ENO’S world-famous ‘ PRUIT SALT /t ts not too much to say that its merits have been published, test d, and approved literally pole to p . ud th ts cosmopolitan popularity to-day presents one of the most sienal illustrations of commercial enterprise to be fo mind in trading } t n view of tl onstant and stead iflux of new buyers into all the markets of the wo! ld, it is impossible to rest on la however arduously won or fresh thered ; and for this reason I have pleasure in again, though briefly, vant ting the attention of readers of thi journal to @@€ genuin equalit | 1] ‘FRUIT SALT Restdents in the fever-haunted regions to be found in some of our Ce ’ j int tropics, the don vivant no less than the man to whom the recommendation, * Eat a1 e to themselves, be reminded of a remedy that meets their special requirements F st TMU LANTS. _CONGI STION OF ‘THE LIVER. Experience shows that Acidulated Sherbet masked with Sugar, Hazardous Brain Tipples, or any orm of k-me-up, Porter, Mid Ales, P ~ me Sherries, Sweet Champagne, Liqueurs, and Brandies, are all very apt to disagree, while Light White Wines, and Gin or Olid Wh sky largely diluted w th > M ral Water ill be found the least objectionable. ENO’S ‘FRUIT SALT’ is PARTICULARLY ADAPTED for ANY constitutional WEAKNESS of the LIVER. it possesses the peter of reparation where digestion has been disturbed or lost, and PLACES the INVALID on the | RIGHT TRACK to HEALTH Only Truth can give Tr.e Reputation. Only Reality can be of Real Profit. The Secret of Success—Sterling Honesty of Purpose. Without it Life is a Shan The value of ENO'S * FRUIT SALT’ cannot be told, Its success in Europe, Asia, Africa, America, Australia, and New Zealand proves it THERE IS NO DOUBT THAT where ENO’S ‘FRUIT SALT’ has been taken in the earliest stages of a disease it has, in innumerable instances, PREVENTED A SERIOUS ILLNESS. Its effect upon any Disordered, Sleepless, and Feverish condition is SIMPLY MARVELLOUS. It is in fact NATURE’S OWN Remedy, and an UNSURPASSED ONE. CAUTION. See Capsule marked ENO'S* FRUIT SALT! Without it, you have been imposed upon by a WORTHLESS imitation. PREPARED ONLY BY J. C. ENO,-Ltd., ‘FRUIT SALT’ WORKS, LONDON, S.E., BY J. C. ENO’S PATENT.

Page 41

January 4, 1899.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. aay v THE NEW “PROVINCIAL TOUR.” [ A new revival of the Thespian cart is said to be in contemplation, in the form of a travelling ‘theatre-car,’ to be attached to trains making long journeys, to the end that passengers may beguile their time by witnessing dramatic performances.’’— World. ] EXCELLENT idea, this. Have to travel west to-day; shall cer- tainly patronise the ‘‘theatre-car”; much more amusing than reading magazines. Have secured seat well in the front; curtain not yet risen. Band behind the scenes is playing an overture, selections, I think, from The Bohemian Girl or Lohengrin. Can't be quite sure which, as our wretched engine is emitting a series of prolonged screeches. Glance at programme. Foiled! or, Beauty and the Bacillus. Evidently a melodrama. Ah! the curtain is going up. Settle myself comfortably in my seat by the window, and prepare to be thrilled. Act 1.—Getting on swimmingly. Young lady, evidently the heroine, in drawing-room scene, arranging flowers. Enter a maid with a letter, which the heroine reads aloud. Rather annoying, a luggage-train passed us just then, and I couldn’t catch the most important sentence. However, dare say it won’t matter. Enter a young man, apparently a doctor, who is attending her father. Begins to make love to the heroine, and means business, too. In about three minutes comes to a proposal. Will she accept him? Evidently uncertain. ‘‘ REGINALD,” she says, in a voice trembling with emotion, ‘‘I have listened to you patiently. And, as you wish, you shall have your answer, here and now. That answer, REGINALD, is——’’ Crash! Really most vexatious! Just at this exciting moment we plunge into a tunnel. Can neither see the stage nor hear a word of the dialogue. Ah! that was a pistol, surely! Is she shooting him, or is he——? But perhaps it was only a fog-signal, after all. Emerge into daylight at last. To my astonishment, two elderly ladies now occupy the stage. ‘And 80,” says one of them, evidently finishing a story, ‘“‘I have con- fided the secret to you, knowing that you will never reveal it.” “ Wretched woman !”’ cries the other, violently, ‘‘ Do you not know that I am——” “Change here for Slumpington,” shout the porters as we pull up with a jerk, and the curtain comes down with a run. On again. ActII.—A garden scene. Heroinealone. “Leonora!” | cries a voice from behind, and another young man rushes on impetu- ously. Unluckily, just jolting over points at this moment, and he is thrown headlong against the back-cloth, which collapses. Quick curtain. Begin again. Evidently this is the hero, but can’t make out whether the lady accepted that other fellow in the tunnel. More whistling from the engine. Very hard to catch what they are saying. eroine disappeared just now while we rattled through a station. The doctor comes on again. Quarrels vio- lently with hero; can’t quite make out why. ‘‘ You are power- less!” cries the hero. ‘ Not so,’’ returns the other, with a cruel smile. ‘‘I have a weapon that you dream not of, and that is——”’ ’Pon my word, this is too provoking! We have suddenly stopped at a station. Newspaper-boys and others clamour outside the window. Motion them away impatiently, and try to keep my attention fixed on the stage. ‘‘ Your threats are vain. I tell you that two years ago, when ” ( Tit-Bits!| Daily Graphic! Christmas Number !’’) ‘Scoundrel, I will unmask your villainy, and proclaim to the world that——” (‘‘ Any sandwiches, Sir? Buns? Oranges?’’) ‘* Well, then, do your worst. I defy Fe (‘* Tickets, please!’’) ‘* No atom of remorse, no spark of pity-——’ (‘‘ Kindly show your ticket, Sir. Can't keep the train waiting all day!”’) Fumble for ticket. By the time I ‘ve found it, the curtain falls. Most thoughtless of the company not to arrange things better. Act III.—Interior of a Court of Justice. Somebody being tried ; haven't any idea who it is, or what is the charge. Lots of new characters give evidence. Apparently a case of murder. Then somebody was shot while we were in that tunnel! But who? Judge about to sum up; now I shall understand. Hullo! What? Why, yes, it’s my station, and I must get out. Melodrama in the train an excellent idea, but somehow, I don’t think I shall patro- nise the ‘‘ theatre-car”’ on my return journey ! ‘* Look ON THIS PIcTURE AND ON THaT! ’—T wo capital portraits of Sir Henry Hawkins appear in last week’s Black and White, one representing him in mufti as he would be attired after leavin the Courts, and the other in “‘ tufti’’ as he was when arrayed in all his judicial glory from 10a.m.to 4p.m. For legend a quotation from a once popular song would have been apt—*O what a difference in the morning!’ VOL. CXVI,

Page 42

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL [Jasvary 4, 1899. A PROPOSAL. *Arry ’Olborn (to Sally Strand). *‘Daritsc! Let vs BE UNITED.” Sally (blushing). ‘*THts Is so SUDDEN! Ask Pa—PA—PARLIAMENT !” i tt ele ie oe Oe ek