Datasets:
Tasks:
Text Generation
Sub-tasks:
language-modeling
Languages:
English
Size:
10K<n<100K
ArXiv:
License:
Produced by Neville Allen, Malcolm Farmer and the Online | |
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net | |
PUNCH, | |
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. | |
VOLUME 93. | |
* * * * * | |
JULY 9, 1887. | |
* * * * * | |
[Illustration] | |
OPERATIC CONFUSION. | |
I went on Saturday to hear the three operatic novelties so liberally | |
provided for us on the same night by Messrs. MAPLESON, LAGO and HARRIS. | |
I do not mix my liquors, and I endeavour, as a rule, to keep to the same | |
lyrical drama throughout the evening; nor is it my fault if a good dose | |
of strong BEETHOVEN, sweetened with GOUNOD and flavoured with MEYERBEER | |
had, on the occasion in question, a somewhat confusing effect on my | |
brain. At Her Majesty's, LILLI LEHMANN was all right as _Leonora_: not | |
_Leonora_ of _La Favorita_, but _Leonora_ the favourite wife of | |
_Manrico_--no, not of _Manrico_, but of another personage who, like the | |
unfortunate _Trovatore_, has to be rescued by his loving spouse from the | |
tyranny of a powerful baritone; whether VERDI'S _Count di Luna_ or | |
SHERIDAN'S _Pizarro_, I cannot just now call to mind. Mlle. LEHMANN is | |
not only a fine singer, but also a serious dramatic artist; and the | |
public was deeply impressed by her performance. She is a LEHMANN with | |
all the earnestness of a good clergyman; not that she had taken orders | |
as I (Box No. 70) had done. | |
From Her Majesty's Theatre, I drove in a rapid Hansom to Drury Lane. I | |
had told the cabman to take me to the Royal Italian Opera, and I was | |
about to remonstrate with him for conveying me to the wrong house, when | |
he promptly explained that there were now two Royal Italian Operas, one | |
at Covent Garden, the other at Drury Lane. New source of confusion! | |
"Confusion worse confounded!" as MILTON observes. | |
"How far have they got?" I inquired as I entered the theatre. | |
"_Valentine's_ death scene," replied my friend. | |
"_Valentine_ does not die, my dear fellow; _Valentine_ only faints," I | |
answered, I was thinking of course, of the new dramatic soprano, Mlle. | |
SANDRA, in _Les Huguenots_. | |
"You are evidently not an Opera-goer," I continued, "or you would know | |
that no one dies in this work, except, of course, in the last Act. But | |
that is always left out." | |
"Wrong again!" exclaimed JONES, with an amused look. "AUGUSTUS HARRIS | |
restores the last Act. See his prospectus." | |
"Well, never mind that. Is _Ella Russell_ singing the part of _Queen | |
Margaret_ as well as ever?" | |
"I did not know that _Margaret_ was a Queen. I always thought she was of | |
humble origin. The part in any case is being played by Mlle. NORDICA." | |
Determined to be no longer the victim of mystification, I wished JONES | |
good-bye, and hurrying in, found the curtain down. Afraid now to ask | |
what was being played, I waited patiently for the next Act, and when at | |
last the curtain went up, I found to my astonishment that some | |
representation entirely new to me was taking place. Will-o'-the-Wisps on | |
a dark back-ground. That was all I saw. I asked myself whether I had | |
gone mad, or whether the Drury Lane Pantomime was being played a little | |
earlier than usual. Then the dark scene gave place to a scene of great | |
brilliancy. There was a throne at the back of the stage, and again my | |
thoughts reverted to the _Huguenots_, and I fancied I could recognise | |
_Queen Margaret_. But her features were not the features of ELLA | |
RUSSELL. Besides, ELLA RUSSELL does not dance, not at least on the | |
Operatic stage; and this lady did. | |
"This is HELEN," said a gentleman in a stall on my right to a lady by | |
his side. Here was at least a clue; and when at the same moment the | |
baritone DE RESZKE stepped out of a group attired in the garb of | |
_Mephistopheles_, I said to myself that the performance had been | |
changed, and this was the last Act of BOITO'S _Mefistofele_, with new | |
details, or at least details that I had not noticed when the work was | |
performed at Her Majesty's Theatre and at Covent Garden. Now dancing | |
began in earnest, and I wondered much at the never-failing ingenuity of | |
Mr. AUGUSTUS HARRIS, who with a score of first-rate singers in his | |
Company, had nevertheless found himself compelled (probably at five | |
minutes' notice,) to change an Opera into a _ballet_. It reminded me of | |
a certain operatic Manager, who, being suddenly deprived of the services | |
of most of his vocalists, announced in his programme, that in | |
consequence of the departure of his principal singers, the music of _Don | |
Giovanni_, would be "replaced, for that night only, by lively and | |
expressive pantomime." | |
When, however, _Mephistopheles_ DE RESZKE and _Faust_ DE RESZKE both | |
began to sing, I saw that my supposition was untenable. | |
"What you have seen," said JONES, who meanwhile had come in, and who now | |
occupied a seat on my left, "is not _Mefistofele_ at all. It is GOUNOD'S | |
additional Ballet Scene for _Faust_. 'Dramatic _Divertissement_' it | |
ought to be called. Beautiful grouping, picturesque costumes, | |
magnificent scenery, delightful dance music! But you ought not to have | |
missed the new _Valentine_. That was a great mistake." I looked at my | |
watch. "Time enough for the new _Valentine_ even now," I reflected; and | |
I went over as fast as I could to Covent Garden. | |
Here there was a new _Valentine_ surely enough. A Russian lady, I was | |
told. Not a bit like the Russian ladies one has seen in _Fedora_, the | |
_Pink Pearl_, the _Red Lamp_, and other dramatic misrepresentations of | |
Russian life. But Mlle. SANDRA, or Mlle. PANAEFF, or whatever her name | |
may be, was not playing the part of a female Nihilist. She was | |
impersonating a well-bred, Catholic young lady of the Sixteenth Century. | |
JONES subsequently informed me that it was not Mlle. SANDRA'S | |
_Valentine_ that I ought to have seen, but VICTOR MAUREL'S, at the other | |
house. | |
* * * * * | |
NOTE AT THE GUILDHALL.--Now we know what the City Marshal has to do. We | |
saw him in his warlike costume, bareheaded, marshalling the carriages of | |
the Great Personages on their departure, and capitally he did it. Not a | |
single name was pronounced incorrectly. Everybody came up to time, and | |
got away comfortably. On these occasions, the City Marshal is a sort of | |
Glorified Linkman. | |
* * * * * | |
[Illustration: THE LATEST FROM LORD'S. | |
_Land Bill._ "WELL, ANYHOW, YOU CARRIED YOUR BAT." _Crimes Bill._ "YES; | |
BUT YOU'LL FIND THE BOWLING AWFULLY HOT."] | |
* * * * * | |
SCENE--_The Cricket Field. The Bell has rung for the Second Innings._ | |
Mr. LAND BILL _is just going to the wickets, and pauses to exchange a | |
word or two with_ Mr. CRIMES BILL, _who has had so long an innings in | |
the earlier part of the match_. | |
_Crimes Bill (taking it easy on his bat)._ Hello, L. B. my lad, | |
you're going in? | |
_L. B. (buttoning his gloves nervously)._ Ye--e--s. Captain's orders! | |
_C. B._ Well, I hope you'll win. | |
_L. B._ I'll do my best; can Cricketer do more? | |
_C. B._ No. But, by Jove! you'll find it hard to score. | |
_L. B._ What? Bowling killing? | |
_C. B._ Beastly! Talk of "shying"? | |
CROSSLAND'S a lamb to HEALY. | |
_L. B._ Ah! that's trying. | |
But then they haven't got a SHAW, Sir, surely? | |
_C. B._ No; but, by Jingo! they have more--a MORLEY! | |
Straight on the middle stump. And then old GLAD | |
Breaks awful, right and left, and shoots like mad. | |
I say they ought to be disqualified | |
For unfair bowling. | |
_L. B._ Humph! that game's been tried; | |
But Umpire doesn't always seem to see it. | |
_C. B._ Ah! Umpires are such funkers. | |
_L. B._ Well, so be it. | |
Must do my best. What sort of wickets? | |
_C. B._ Crumbling. | |
Must meet the ball with a straight bat; no fumbling, | |
Or out you go! | |
_L. B._ And how's the fielding? | |
_C. B._ Dicky! | |
'Tis there you'll have the pull that wickets sticky | |
Or cut up, through the influence of weather, | |
Can't neutralise. _They're never all together._ | |
Some run like hares, some throw in like a Krupp; | |
But what they fail in is in "backing up." | |
_L. B._ Thanks be! I see my chance then. If they're loose | |
In fielding I can slog 'em to the doose. | |
_C. B._ But don't take liberties, my lad. No jumps | |
In for a drive; they're always on the stumps. | |
And then their wicket-keeper's like a cat. | |
_L. B._ Well, anyhow _you_ carried out your bat, | |
Despite the lot of them. Can "_crack_" do more? | |
_C. B. (significantly)._ Yes!--I kept up my stumps, but | |
_could not score_! | |
A "Not out, nothing" may be meritorious, | |
And very useful, but 'tis hardly glorious, | |
A stolid SCOTTON'S worth his salt, at need; | |
But, after all, he's not a GRACE or READ. | |
_You_'ll have to hit, as well as guard your wicket, | |
If you'd be popular. Blocking is not Cricket! | |
_L. B._ Humph! no, not quite. My orders are to score | |
And bring the House down. | |
_C. B._ That will cause a roar | |
When you take back your bat to the Pavilion. | |
A Cricketer must smite to please the Million. | |
* * * * * | |
ROUTLEDGE'S _Jubilee Guide to London_, is good, not only for such a | |
"high old time" as the Jubilee Week, but for the next three years or so | |
until the streets are re-named and a few new thoroughfares opened up. | |
The illustrations are excellent. There is only one objection to this | |
Guide as a companion, and that is it is rather too large. No Guide to be | |
useful should be bigger than the Handy-Volume Shakspeare size, | |
originally started at 85, Fleet Street. Some of the French Guides, not | |
the regiment, but the little books, JOANNE'S Series, are models in this | |
respect. | |
* * * * * | |
PHILIPS' _Handy Volume Atlas_ is about the right size. "The World," it | |
is often said, "is a small place;" but for all that, it does not go so | |
easily in a tail-coat pocket, where Mr. PHILIPS' _Atlas_ can be | |
conveniently carried. It is an invaluable companion for everyday | |
newspaper reading. _Happy Thought_ for Travellers, to whom this little | |
volume is recommended, "PHILIPS on his way through the World." | |
* * * * * | |
[Illustration: WHAT OUR ARTIST HAS TO PUT UP WITH. | |
_Our Artist (showing his last and most important Picture, the work of | |
years)._ "YES, I SHOULD LIKE TO _EXHIBIT_ IT; BUT I DON'T WANT TO _SELL_ | |
IT, YOU KNOW--AT LEAST NOT TILL TIMES ARE BETTER." | |
_Friend._ "WELL, WHY NOT SEND IT TO THE EXHIBITION, AND PUT A | |
PROHIBITIVE PRICE UPON IT--SAY TWENTY POUNDS?!"] | |
* * * * * | |
TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING. | |
(_Meteorological forecast for the Month._) | |
_6th._--Queen's Weather continues. Raspberry crop fails. Strawberries | |
sold by auction in Covent Garden Market, and fetch two guineas each. | |
_13th._--Queen's Weather still continues. All the grass in Hyde Park | |
turns brown, and suddenly disappears. Vegetables generally sell at | |
famine prices. Riot of Dukes attempting to secure a bundle of late | |
asparagus from a fashionable West End greengrocer's, suppressed by the | |
police. | |
_17th._--Queen's Weather as settled as ever. Great drought commences. | |
London Water Companies cut off their supply. Five o'clock tea in | |
Belgravia made from boiled soda-water. Apollinaris supplied in buckets, | |
for washing purposes, at the rate of twenty guineas the dozen pint | |
bottles. | |
_21st._--Queen's Weather showing no signs of departure, fifteen | |
umbrella-manufacturers go through the Bankruptcy Court, and commit | |
suicide. Dust in London becomes intolerable. A Nobleman in Mayfair has | |
Piccadilly watered with BASS'S India Pale Ale. | |
_27th._--Queen's Weather established. The Thames runs dry between | |
Vauxhall and Westminster. The SPEAKER gives a garden-party in the bed of | |
the river. _Cafe noir_, made of ink, served as a refreshment. | |
_31st._--Queen's Weather still continuing, seventeen ginger-beer | |
manufacturers who have become _millionnaires_ are raised to the | |
Peerage. The LORD MAYOR goes off his head, and, imagining that he is the | |
Old Pump at Aldgate, is removed, by general consent, to Colney Hatch. | |
* * * * * | |
FLOREAT MASCHERA! | |
A GREAT deal of curiosity has been expressed about the Gray's Inn _Maske | |
of Flowers_, which has puzzled a number of people. The better informed | |
have replied, when asked, "What _was_ it?" "Oh, don't you know what a | |
Maske is? Why _Comus_ was a Maske, don't you know?" To save time and | |
temper, _Mr. Punch_ begs to inform all inquirers that:-- | |
1. "Gray's Inn" is the Inn where the poet GRAY always stopped when he | |
came to town. It has always been associated with Poets. | |
2. This _Maske of Flowers_ is not Mr. CYRIL FLOWER, M.P.'s. | |
3. It is highly improbable that the Benchers of the Four Inns of Court | |
will appear in Fancy Costume at four o'clock in the morning, and | |
serenade the occupants of the Western Face of Gray's Inn Square from the | |
Gardens. | |
4. The Maske is not so called from everybody in Gray's Inn appearing in | |
"big heads." | |
5. The LORD CHANCELLOR is not introduced as Harlequin, and does not | |
dance a _pas seul_ with "Mr. SOLICITOR," founded upon some of the more | |
intricate steps of the _pavan_, or peacock's strut. | |
6. That it is not the duty of the Master of the Revels to teach the | |
Masters of the Bench how to execute with spirit a Morisco. | |
Having said what the Maske will _not_ be, _Mr. Punch_ goes a step | |
further--and stops, thinking it will be better to reserve particulars | |
until after the Performance. | |
* * * * * | |
EVERY Etonian ought to go to the Gaiety and hear Mr. MERRIVALE'S new | |
piece, of which Mrs. BROWN-POTTER is the heroine. Why ought every | |
Etonian to do this? We forgot to mention that the name of the play is | |
_Civil Warre_. (If it isn't so spelt, it ought to be.) | |
* * * * * | |
ROYALTY AT THE PALACE. | |
[Illustration: Cockney notion of A-making.] | |
A HARD-WORKING three weeks has H.R.H. had of it. Morning, noon, and | |
night, here, there, and everywhere. _Mr. Punch_ was glad to see that | |
H.R.H. took his advice, given last week, and immediately visited the | |
Crystal Palace. The Fireworks were first-rate. The Prospect was | |
brilliant. Good omen for the C.P. If the B.P. could only get to the | |
C.P. in twenty minutes from Victoria, by Palace trains every twenty-five | |
minutes after a certain time in the afternoon, the future chances of | |
prosperity for the Palace would be considerably increased. By the way, | |
we thought we noticed some people, who had nothing to do with the | |
fireworks, speaking to the Lighters--the de-lighters--while in the | |
execution of their duty. If so, this ought to be stopped, and a notice | |
put up,--"You are requested not to speak to the Man at the (Catherine) | |
Wheel." | |
* * * * * | |
JILLS IN OFFICE. | |
SCENE--_Portion of a Stationer's Shop, used as Post Office. Two Young | |
Ladies (let them be distinguished as_ Miss CROSS and Miss ORTY) | |
_discovered behind wire-screen. At opening of scene, the public is | |
composed exclusively of the gentler sex, and the demeanour of_ Miss C. | |
and Miss O. _though firm, is not positively forbidding. Lady Customers, | |
having despatched their business move away, leaving the coast clear to | |
three_ MILD MEN, _who advance to screen with a meekness designed to | |
propitiate. Instant transformation in both_ Miss C. and Miss O., _who | |
gaze at them through screen with air of visitors at the Zoo who are not | |
fond of animals_. | |
_First Mild Man (with apologetic cough)._ Oh, good-day! [_Slight pause._ | |
_Miss Cross to Miss Orty (in continuation of an interrupted anecdote)._ | |
Yes, I said it to him just like that--it made me so wild! | |
_Miss Orty._ I shouldn't have taken any notice if it had been me. | |
_First M. M._ Can you oblige me with six stamps, if you please? | |
[Miss Orty, _without looking at him, opens drawer, tears off six stamps, | |
and tosses them contemptuously underneath the screen_. | |
_Second Mild Man._ Oh, I beg your pardon, I just called in to | |
inquire---- (Miss C. and Miss O. _regard him stonily, which has effect | |
of disconcerting him to some extent_). I--I ... there were some books I | |
sent off by Parcels Post from this Office the other day ... you may | |
remember it?--they were all in white wrappers. (Miss C. _and_ Miss O. | |
_wear the resigned look of people who feel themselves in for a dull | |
story_.) Some of my friends, er--I have been given to understand, that | |
two of the parcels have--well, failed to arrive as yet.... Could you | |
kindly---- | |
_Miss O. to Miss C. (with lifted eyebrows)._ Know anything about the | |
books? | |
_Miss C. shakes her head in scornful repudiation, whereupon Miss Orty | |
selects a printed form, which she jerks towards Second M. M._ Fill up | |
that, and send it in to the Postmaster-General. | |
_Second M. M._ But are you quite sure they have not been mislaid _here_? | |
You see they are small books, and it struck me perhaps--er---- | |
_Miss O._ Any remarks you have to make can be put in the form. | |
_Second M. M._ Quite so--but if you could only tell me---- | |
_Miss O._ Can't do any more than I have done. (_To First M. M._) I gave | |
you your stamps some time ago, didn't I? | |
_First M. M._ Oh, yes--yes, I had the stamps, thank you. But--but (_with | |
manner of man who is compelled to enter on a painful subject_) there was | |
my change--I--I gave you half a sovereign. | |
_Miss O. (with cold suspicion)._ Don't remember it. You should have | |
spoke about it at the time--but of course, if you say you haven't had | |
it--I suppose---- | |
[_Deals out his change as if it was more than he had any right to | |
expect._ | |
_Second M. M._ One moment--am I to leave this form with you? | |
_Miss C._ No. Send it to the General Post Office in the regular | |
way--they'll attend to it. You'll find all the directions there if you | |
take the trouble to look. | |
_Second M. M._ Thank you _very_ much. Good morning. | |
[Miss C. _and_ Miss O. _naturally take no notice of this piece of | |
familiarity, and_ Second M. M. _departs crushed, and gradually realises | |
that he is slightly annoyed_. | |
_Third M. M. (presenting a telegram)._ Will you send this off at once, | |
please? | |
_Miss Orty (takes the form, and runs a disparaging eye over it, rather | |
as if it were an unwelcome love-letter from some detested adorer)._ | |
"Post mortem's" _two_ words. | |
_Third M. M._ I have no objection--but it's rather important. I want it | |
delivered, and _soon_. | |
_Miss O._ You must put the address more full than "Rumbo," then. | |
_Third M. M._ But the telegraphic address is registered "Rumbo." | |
_Miss O. (who seems to consider_ "Rumbo" _somewhat too frivolous_). | |
Well, if you like to leave it so, I can _send_ it--it's at your risk. | |
(_She leaves the form on the counter._) Eightpence-halfpenny. | |
_Enter_ Footman, _with parcel_. | |
_Footman._ How much to pay on this, Miss, please? | |
[Miss Cross _takes it reluctantly, slaps it down on scales with infinite | |
contempt, flings in weights, and then tosses a stamp and label to_ | |
Footman, _with the brief remark, "Fourpence," spoken aggressively_. | |
Footman, _after paying his fourpence, and gazing from stamp to label in | |
a hopeless manner, opens his mouth twice, and withdraws, too intimidated | |
to ask for further instructions_. | |
_Miss C. (still occupied with her anecdote)._ I _should_ laugh if he | |
came again next Sunday, just the same--shouldn't you? | |
_Miss O._ I'd let him see I wasn't going to put up with it, I know! | |
_Miss C._ Oh, he'll find out he won't have things all his way. | |
(_Perceives_ First M. M. _evidently awaiting her leisure_.) Was there | |
anything else you were waiting for? | |
_First M. M._ Er--yes. Can you let me have a Postal Order for | |
six-and-sixpence? | |
_Miss C. (with decision)._ No, I can't! | |
_First M. M. (surprised)._ But surely----! | |
_Miss C._ Give you two--one for five shillings, and one for | |
eighteen-pence, if _that_ will do? | |
_First M. M._ Of course, that's what I meant! | |
_Miss Cross._ It's not what you _said_--you said _a_ order. (_Makes out | |
the orders with much disdain._) Three-halfpence to pay. | |
_Second M. M. (returning)._ Oh, I quite forgot--will you kindly cash | |
this order for me? | |
_Miss O._ Not till you've signed it. | |
_Second M. M._ Bless my heart, I quite forgot it ought to be signed! | |
Could you oblige me with a pen for one moment? | |
_Miss O._ There's a desk over there for all that. | |
_Second M. M._ I--I thought if you would let me sign it here, it would | |
save time--the desk is occupied at present I observe. | |
_Miss O. (dabs a pen in the inkstand, and pushes it disdainfully through | |
the wire net-work.)_ Give it back when you've finished with it. | |
[_She is apparently alarmed lest it should be secured as a Souvenir._ | |
_Enter_ Imperious Customer, _and approaches screen with lordly air_. | |
_Imperious Customer (blusterously)._ Here you--one of you, let me have a | |
penny stamp, and a packet of thin post-cards, and two half-penny | |
wrappers, will you? and look sharp! | |
_Miss C. and Miss O. (becoming instantly all smiles.)_ Certainly, Sir. | |
(_They vie with one another in activity._) Postcards in that drawer ... | |
I'll get the wrappers--ninepence-halfpenny, Sir, and thank you. Good | |
morning, Sir. | |
[_Exit_ Imperious Stranger _snatching up his purchases and ignoring | |
parting smiles from behind the screen_. Mild Men _store up the lesson | |
for use on future occasions. Scene closes in_. | |
* * * * * | |
How's That? | |
"THE A B C of Cricket you must get," | |
Says a great Critic, "if you would succeed." | |
_Punch_ then presumes 'tis by that Alphabet | |
A Cricketer may learn to (WALTER) READ! | |
* * * * * | |
COINS OF THE REALM.--'ARRY remarks that the Tories are led by a "Bob" | |
(CECIL), the Parnellites can boast the possession of a "TANNER," whilst | |
the Liberal Unionists make the most of their "JOEY." | |
* * * * * | |
ON THE JAR.--The French have a proverb, "_il faut qu'une porte soit | |
ouverte ou fermee_." This evidently does not apply to the Sublime Porte, | |
which seems generally "neither one thing nor t' other." | |
* * * * * | |
IT was settled at the last meet of the Coaching Club that Mr. EATON, | |
M.P., the new Peer, is to be crowned not with laurels, but with his own | |
bays. | |
* * * * * | |
THE BARD AT HENLEY. | |
(_A Reminiscence._) | |
[Illustration: Retirement after the Jubilee Fortnight. | |
"Far from the Madding Crowd."] | |
OH, Friday was lovely! The Bard who now sings | |
Saw Princes, Princesses, a Duke, and two Kings, | |
His Indian Highness, called RAS KUTCH THAKORE, | |
NAWAB GAFFER JUNG and several more. | |
They saw the best racing, then went to lunch with | |
The Closuring Commoner, our Mr. SMITH. | |
'Twas Jubilee Weather! the Course was well kept! | |
Oh, champagne! and Oh, headache! I sighed--and then slept. | |
I awoke, to find all my companions gone, | |
And I, like the Rose, was left blooming alone. | |
So I plunged in the freshening stream--down, down, down | |
I dived, and I dived, then I came up--to town. | |
* * * * * | |
A CASE AGAINST THE POLICE.--This was Miss CASE, who being arrested by a | |
Constable, was Miss-taken for somebody else. Gallant JOSEPHUS | |
CHAMBERLANIUS of the Orchid Squad has come to the rescue, and the | |
"MATTHEWS-at-Home" Secretary granted an inquiry. Before this paragraph | |
appears, the Public may be in possession of the truth. Justice must be | |
done, or the young woman may become Case-hardened. But whatever the | |
result may be, the Magistrate should study and get by heart, _Newton's | |
Principia_. | |
* * * * * | |
GARDEN, LANE, AND MARKET. | |
[Illustration: Note from "Mr. G." to Madame Albani.] | |
"MR. G."--the upper G.--went to hear _Puritani_ on Thursday night. Of | |
course he called on Madame ALBANI, and sang a few of the songs just to | |
give "Signor G." a hint. When the First Act was over, and the Closure | |
was moved by the Act-drop descending, Mr. G. went into the Lobby, and | |
voted with the Government of Covent Garden. Mr. G. was seen to be | |
several times in animated conversation with Mr. HALL, who was decorated | |
with a Covent Garden Order, and was wearing a _Shirtcollerado | |
Gladstonensis_ in his button-hole. It is, we believe, quite untrue that | |
Mr. HALL has refused to take office--box office--in the next Liberal | |
Cabinet; but whether he will be made an Extra Knight or not is still | |
uncertain. Mr. GYE is very Earnest about it, and at present we can say | |
no more except that the performance of _I Puritani_ was first-rate, as | |
naturally it would be, with ALBANI, enthusiastically received, GAYARRE, | |
and D'ANDRADE. There were numerous _encores_, and the applause was | |
bestowed with a warmth which increased the temperature considerably. | |
_At Drury Lane._--A prettier and sweeter voiced _Zerlina_ than Miss | |
ARNOLDSON, has not been seen or heard for some time. We must not venture | |
on comparisons, but in two respects Miss ARNOLDSON has the advantage | |
over Madame PATTI (who was singing in _Traviata_ on Friday night at the | |
Colonel's Opera House) but one of these is not voice. M. MAUREL played | |
and sang the im-Maurel _Don Giovanni_ admirably, and CIAMPI as | |
_Mazetto_, looked and acted like LIONEL BROUGH. A good performance. | |
[Illustration: "Approbation from Mr. P. is praise indeed!"] | |
* * * * * | |
"LONG EXPECTED COME AT LAST!" | |
THE Imperial Institute has commenced. The first stone has been laid by | |
Her Gracious MAJESTY, and the Prince of WALES is sanguine as to the | |
result. The Institute is to be a House and Home, with gardens attached, | |
for special use of our Indian and Colonial cousins visiting England, and | |
it is also intended to keep perpetually before the eyes of the British | |
Public specimens of Indian and Colonial industry. To so useful a scheme | |
_Mr. Punch_ wishes every success. | |
Per varios casus, per tot discrimina rerum, | |
Tendimus in--Kensington. | |
The subjoined list of the Procession as it ought to have been, was | |
probably altered at the last moment; but there is no doubt it would have | |
been effective as it stood, or rather as it moved on:-- | |
Australian Lambs. Organising Committee Mr. BOEHM, R.A., and | |
The Master of the with various Mr. GOSCHEN with | |
Mint. Organs. new coinage tossing heads. | |
Sir FREDERICK LEIGHTON, P.R.A., drawing himself. | |
Groom of the Bedchamber "Lord's" in Waiting | |
(on towel-horse). (Oxford and Cambridge Eleven). | |
The Rajah of SHAMPOOAH, with Order of the Turkish Bath. | |
THE QUEEN. | |
Her ROYAL HIGHNESS H.R.H. Prince of WALES, K.G. | |
The Princess of WALES. ("K.G.," _i.e._, "Kensington Gained.") | |
Any Kings and Queens who may be left in Town. | |
Master of the Horse Ladies in Waiting Mistress of the Robes | |
on a Buck-jumper. to be asked. ("dressing up.") | |
Lots of Sticks in A Serene Grand "Mr. G," as "Umbrella | |
Waiting (with banners Transparency in Waiting." | |
of Advertisements (personally (N.B.--This is "Collar | |
in _Era_.) illuminated day.") | |
by Mr. BROCK.) | |
Any number of Trumpeters blowing their own Trumpets. | |
Little Indian Pickles, GEO. AUGUSTUS SALA, Australian Wines, | |
led, with taste, by with "Echoes," and headed by Sir | |
Sir P. CUNLIFFE driving four Quills "WILL SOMERS" | |
OWEN. at once. VINE. | |
Mr. LEWIS MORRIS, with his Ode Colonial, accompanied by | |
Sir ARTHUR SULLIVAN, on a Grand Piano. | |
Mr. HENRY IRVING. Mr. J. L. TOOLE. | |
(Last appearance in London (Last appearance in London | |
previous to his departure previous Aix-les-Bains.) | |
for America.) | |
Right Hon. W. H. SMITH, with banner of "Closure." | |
At a signal from the Archbishop the Chorus will strike up-- | |
The great Imperial Institoot, | |
In Kensington has taken root, | |
And as a tree up may it shoot! | |
Our Institoot, Our Institoot! | |
Sir ARTHUR SULLIVAN was so overcome by this inspiration, that after | |
reading it, he could not compose himself. "No," he exclaimed, "I cannot | |
invent music which should be a worthy setting for so precious a gem! | |
Give me something more simple," and so it came about that Mr. LEWIS | |
MORRIS'S poem was chosen. Whether the above-quoted beautiful _chorale_ | |
was written by the Earl of R-SSL-N, whose little Jubilee volume of poems | |
has so enchanted a select circle, or by another titled and | |
unprofessional poet, is a secret which wild horses should not make us | |
divulge. Hooray for the Institoot! | |
* * * * * | |
[Illustration: GETTING ONE'S MONEY'S WORTH. | |
_She._ "WHAT'S THE GOOD OF SPENDING ALL OUR SUNDAY AFTERNOONS IN WALKING | |
ROUND THE SQUARE, WHERE THERE'S NEVER A SOUL AND HARDLY A TREE TO SPEAK | |
OF, AND WHEN THERE'S THE PARK CLOSE BY?" | |
_He._ "WHAT'S THE GOOD OF HAVING TO PAY A GUINEA A YEAR FOR THE USE OF | |
THE SQUARE, IF WE DON'T USE IT AS OFTEN AS WE CAN, I SHOULD LIKE TO | |
KNOW?"] | |
* * * * * | |
THE NEW, AND BAD, "HATCH." | |
_Mr. Punch loquitur_:-- | |
WELL, PARTLET, old hen, here's a pretty fiasco | |
The Poultry profession seems going to pot. | |
You might search the whole kingdom, from Greenwich to Glasgow, | |
And never encounter an uglier lot. | |
They're crooked, and cranky, and wry-neck'd, and lanky; | |
I cannot discover one point that is good. | |
What, join in your cackle of triumph? No, thankye! | |
We can't accept _this_ as a Jubilee brood. | |
I did expect something a little bit better | |
From one some crack up as the pride of the House. | |
Of decentish broods you have been a begetter, | |
And, though you are dowdy, I thought you had _nous_. | |
But these scraggy scramblers, ill-fledged and ill-fashioned? | |
By Jingo, old bird, they're a perfect disgrace. | |
No wonder the public disgust grows impassioned; | |
They simply degrade a respectable race. | |
Just think of the beauties, the silver and gold chicks, | |
That often have left that identical coop! | |
I'm sure there's not one of those comely, plump, bold chicks | |
That would not despise _this_ contemptible troop. | |
They look like the work of a villanous vamper. | |
Just take a glance at 'em, my PARTLET, I beg; | |
They've too much top-hamper, they scarcely can scamper. | |
A shabbier brood, PARTLET, never chipped egg. | |
Pray how do you think that the Fancy will class them, | |
So scraggy, and leggy, and bandy, and bald? | |
You'll find it most difficult, PARTLET, to pass them; | |
In fact, 'tis a pity they can't be recalled. | |
I'm really ashamed of 'em; so, Ma'am, should you be. | |
The kindliest hen-wife would banish the batch. | |
What? Say one word for 'em? Now, don't be a booby: | |
You must be aware they're a precious Bad Hatch! | |
* * * * * | |
RALEIGH TOO BAD. | |
SIR WALTER RALEIGH'S old house at Brixton Rise, _Punch_ hears, "is about | |
to be sold by public auction", and the surrounding twelve acres of | |
"nobly-timbered park", given over--of course, like so much else in that | |
once leafy suburb--to the untender mercies of the Jerry Builder. Too | |
bad! In the olden days, QUEEN BESS used to be rowed in her barge up the | |
Effra (which now, like the Mole, "runneth underground", hidden by earth | |
and brickwork, but, not long since, was a visible stream) to visit Sir | |
WALTER at what was _then_ his Country House. There were no Interviewers | |
in those happy days, else would a "Sir WALTER RALEIGH At Home", with | |
"Gloriana" as his guest, be toothsome reading. And shall JUGSON, the | |
Jerry-builder, with his mud-bricks and slime-mortar, his warped timber | |
and his peeling stucco, banish even the memories of the great | |
Elizabethans from their ancient haunts? Forbid it, O Spirit of the | |
Jubilee Year! Let the Jubilators RALEIGH--we mean _rally_, round | |
RALEIGH'S old Mansion,-- | |
"Let not his house who witched Old England's eyes | |
Before base JUGSON fall on Brixton Rise." | |
* * * * * | |
BEN TROVATO AGAIN.--When the Papal Envoy arrived, His Eminence had | |
several mansions placed at his disposal. The one he fancied most was | |
that offered by Mr. H. LABOUCHERE, M.P., with the appropriate | |
designation of "POPE'S Villa, Twickenham." | |
* * * * * | |
A Hard-worked Official. | |
LORD CHAMBERLAIN LATHOM, exhausted is he | |
After this season of Jubilee. | |
"Farewell to my cares at holiday-tide," | |
Says LATHOM aloud, when he'll _lay them aside_. | |
* * * * * | |
As to the Mission of Monsignor PERSICO to Ireland, an Horatian | |
Nationalist wrote--"PERSICO'S odi." And he probably does dislike it. | |
* * * * * | |
[Illustration: THE NEW "HATCH." | |
MR. P. "AH! THEY'RE AN AWFULLY UGLY LOT! I _DID_ THINK THE OLD | |
GAUCHE-HEN--(AHEM!)--WOULD HA' DONE BETTER THAN THAT!!" | |
[_Exit sadly._]] | |
* * * * * | |
THE LAST VISIT (BUT ONE) TO THE ACADEMY. | |
[Illustration: No. 518. Left Leg Shrunk.] | |
[Illustration: No. 624. Her Serene Transparency.] | |
[Illustration: No. 413. Hard Hit in a Town and Gown Row.] | |
[Illustration: No. 647. What can we do with the Baby?] | |
[Illustration: No. 623. Warming his Back against the Soup Tureen.] | |
[Illustration: No. 253. Pulling the Stuffing out of Toy Terrier.] | |
A grand flare-up on Thursday last. A Jubilee _Soiree_ worthy of the | |
Jubilee Year and the Royal Academicians. Kings, Queens, Royal | |
Highnesses, Grand Dukes and Duchesses have become so common this Jubilee | |
month, that, when some _blase_ and well-seasoned Londoner is asked who | |
such and such a decorated person is, he languidly replies, "Oh! only a | |
King, or something of that sort." | |
There was a private Royal Night on Wednesday, when only Royalty and The | |
Forty R.A.'s were present,--"The Forty" did something in the oil and | |
colour line, as we gather from _The Arabian Nights_, revised edition, by | |
Lady BURTON,--and, of course, _Mr. Punch_, who is everywhere on every | |
occasion, and who, in a general way, represents H.R.H. Everybody. | |
On Thursday night, T.R.H. Everybody and Everybody Else were present, and | |
the scene was brilliant. Sir FREDERICK, a Prince among Presidents and a | |
President among Princes, graciously welcomed the guests. He was assisted | |
by Sir EVERETT MILLAIS and Treasurer HORSLEY, who appeared rather weary, | |
perhaps tired of counting the shillings, or worried by the uncertainty | |
of the monetary value of the BOEHM silver currency. | |
The Queen of the Pictures is still Professor HERKOMER'S Lady in black | |
with the long gloves. She lingers in our memory, and will do so for many | |
a long day. May we never see her _in propria persona_, or disappointment | |
might be our dole. The Lady in the picture cannot age. Even amidst all | |
the living breathing beauty collected within those walls on Thursday | |
last, the Lady on the wall, if we may so put it, "took the | |
cake,"--though she didn't take it all, as there was plenty left for Miss | |
MARY ANDERSON, Miss DOROTHY DENE, and some other charming ladies. One | |
more visit to the Royal Academy, and then the Show for 1887 will have | |
passed away. Then, after a brief holiday, the Artists will be again at | |
work, according to their individual taste and fancy, taking (lucky | |
_gourmets_!) each one just what best suits his palette. _Au revoir!_ | |
* * * * * | |
HIBERNIA TO THE QUEEN. | |
(_On the occasion of the Visit of Princes Victor and George of Wales._) | |
YOUR MAJESTY'S Grandsons I welcomed with joy, | |
At a time when I'm horribly worried; | |
ALBERT VICTOR and GEORGE--he's a broth of a boy-- | |
Their visit was brief and too hurried. | |
Ah, then, if your MAJESTY'S self we could see, | |
Sure we'd drop every grumble and quarrel. | |
Stay a month in the year with my children and me, | |
'Twould be a nice change from Balmoral. | |
* * * * * | |
THE Wild West Kensington Indians were not permitted to go to Henley last | |
week. It was thought that the sight of so many sculls would be too much | |
for them, and that they would immediately want to scalp everybody. Why | |
doesn't the Honourable Colonel BUFFALO BILL CODY engage "SQUASH," and | |
give him a show on a buck-jumper? Something amusing is wanted to enliven | |
the Wild West Scenes in the Circle, and "SQUASH" is just the sort of | |
droll required. | |
* * * * * | |
GOG AND MAGOG AT THE BALL. | |
The Jubilee Ball, | |
Held at Guildhall | |
Last week, on Tuesday night, | |
A great success; | |
All must confess | |
It was a glorious sight. | |
The Giants twain | |
Imbibed champagne. | |
Says Magog to Gog, "What fun!" | |
Says Gog, "For a crown | |
I couldn't get down | |
As we ought when the clock strikes one." | |
Says Magog to Gog, | |
"You jolly old dog, | |
With the same idea I'm imbued. | |
We ought to descend, | |
But we can't, my friend; | |
On our pedestals we're screwed." | |
To save their renown, | |
They didn't come down. | |
Be sure they acted right. | |
The jovial pair | |
Remained where they were; | |
Gog and Magog stopped up all night! | |
* * * * * | |
THE President and Fellows having, at a recent meeting at South | |
Kensington, by their Resolutions shown, spite their difficulties, a | |
disposition to ride the high horse, their body will henceforth be known | |
as the Royal Haughty-cultural Society. | |
* * * * * | |
ROBERT AT THE AMERICAN EXHIBITION. | |
I'VE paid my second wisit to this most emusing place, and have to report | |
a grate improvement in its inside, witch is gradawally a filling up like | |
an hungry Alderman at a nice rich fust class dinner. | |
But this time I paid speshal attention to the outside emusements, and | |
them as carnt find no fun and xcitement in them, had better go off at | |
wunce to the Amerrycan Bar for a "Coaxer," and that, as I found, will | |
soon pick him up. I never saw such a site as BUFFERLOW BILL'S Wild West | |
in South Kensington, the werry recklekshun of it sets me off so that I | |
must pull myself together with one of BERTRAM'S "Brighton Steadiers," or | |
I shall get too exsited to write strait. | |
[Illustration: Robert Tobogganing.] | |
Well, I spose it was because they was jest a little late that the whole | |
blooming lot of 'em, Amerrycans and Cow Boys, and Mexicans and Injians | |
with their Squalls and Porposes, and Gals a riding like gals generally | |
rides, and Gals a riding like men, all cum a galloping in at such a | |
whirling pace that it litorally took away all my pore breth, and they | |
screamed as they galloped, and their crimson and blue and scarlet and | |
yeller clokes all shone in the sunlight and fluttered in the breeze, and | |
when they came jest in front of me, where I was setting with dignerty in | |
a reserwed seat at the small charge of 1s., they pulled up bang, as if | |
they was all shot, and all sat as still as mice. | |
Well, then we had a hole carrywan of settlers for life attacked as they | |
was agoing quietly along by a hole army of wild Injians, and defended by | |
BUFFERLOW BILL and his bold Cow Boys, and a grand fight it was. Plenty | |
of firing, but not enuff execushun for to friten the ladies, for the | |
jest a few was killed in the dedly combat, they all got up and rode away | |
after the battle was over; so I spose as they was ony shamming jest to | |
deceeve the enemy. | |
[Illustration: A Little Indian Rubber.] | |
Curiosity, which is the Waiter's weekness, makes me inquire, why so many | |
Cow Boys when there aint not no Cows? We wound up with a Bufferlow hunt, | |
but as the animals was jest as uncurry-combed and as dirty as afore, I | |
gammoned Mrs. ROBERT, who was with me, that it was ardly a site for a | |
reel dellycat lady to witness, so we went off to see the Toboggening, | |
and grate fun it was to look at. But, to my extreme estonishment nothink | |
wood do but Mrs. ROBERT must try it, and, in spite of all my | |
remonstrances, I presently found myself a seated with my bitter arf on | |
the top of an high hill, about to be launched hedlong on our wild career | |
with ony a piece of rope to guide us and nothink to stop us. Oh, that | |
dedly moment of hezitashun! and then the rush through the hair with | |
sitch litening speed as made Mrs. ROBERT give jest a little squeal. How | |
any sane person having wunce tried this new game, which recalled to fond | |
memory the sensashun of my fust swing, can wish to repeat the dose, I | |
carnt understand. He suttenly ought to have the stummuck of a | |
Horsestrich rather than of a Halderman. The fond partner of my fate | |
having a little hedake after her rash xperryment, which she insisted | |
upon declaring was owing to the rifle-shooting, I adwised her to leave | |
the noisy scene and seek the cumfort of her quiet home, promising to | |
jine her hurly, so she went. I was afterwards asked to try the | |
Switch-back Railway, but learning from a prewious wictim as how the | |
sensation reminded him of the fust time as he crossed the Channel, I | |
declined with thanks. | |
Hoping to meet with the Kernel who had promised to introduce me to the | |
Hon. Mr. WILLIAM BUFFERLOW, Esquire, wulgerly called BUFFERLOW BILL, I | |
sauntered round to the Injians encampment, but was there told he had | |
gone to dine with some other Savages at the Savage Club, so I coudn't | |
see him. Howsumever I fell into conwersation with one of the tip-top | |
managers, and he introduced me to sum of the principal Braves, as they | |
calls 'em, and their Squaws, and porposes. They was worry affable and | |
perlite, as I'm told as all reel savages is, but I carnt say much for | |
their hartistick taste. There was one savage lady with a savage dorter | |
and a pickaninny about rising four, as grately surprised me. The yung | |
lady wood have bin werry good looking if her Ma had let her alone, but | |
she had painted her two cheeks such a brite skarlet that skarlet runners | |
is nothing to 'em, and as for the pore little chap his hole face was | |
painted a greenish yeller, like a werry bad case of jarndice, and all | |
his air a brite green. But such is my natral perliteness, that when his | |
fond Ma held him up to me and said, "Lookee, lookee, ain't him Booty?" I | |
said, "Oh! yessee, yessee!" I didn't dare to kiss it, for fear its face | |
wood have stuck to mine, witch woudn't ha bin nice. | |
I spent a werry plessent evening with the principle performers such as | |
RED SHIRT, and CUT MEAT, and sum others, and whenever the conwersashun | |
flagged I surgested a adjurnment to the Amerrycan Bar, and we allus | |
tried a new drink, and this I will say for my forren frends that they | |
took them all with the same coolness as if they had been the native | |
drinks of the Far West End. The larst one we tried was called "A Yard of | |
flannel," and for warmth and cumfort it was well-named, but somehows I | |
fancy it must ha bin rayther a staggerer, for I remember werry little of | |
what took place afterwards. But I have sum dim recklekshun of playing at | |
cards with two Chiefs and a Squaw, and that one of them had a dress on | |
sumthink like a porky-pine with his squills, and that I lost my money, | |
and that sum familyer voice said, "Why, ROBERT, you've lost your Injian | |
Rubber!" at witch we all larfed. How I got home I don't werry well | |
remember, but I do remember, and shall probberbly never forget, the | |
werry warm recepshun I met when at length I arrived there, or the nex | |
morning's hed hake. I don't think I shall try "a yard of flannel," again | |
in an hurry. | |
ROBERT. | |
* * * * * | |
The Children's Nautical Festival. | |
ON the occasion of the Great Naval Review, Lord CHARLES BERESFORD, | |
remembering Mr. EDWARD LAWSON'S Hyde Park success, intends to stand | |
treat to all the Buoys round the Coast. The Best Buoy will receive a | |
present from Her Gracious MAJESTY. | |
* * * * * | |
[Illustration] | |
ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. | |
EXTRACTED FROM | |
THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P. | |
_House of Commons, Monday, June 27._--Back again to the Coercion Bill. | |
Report Stage reached, and strong whips out on both sides in anticipation | |
of Division. Both Front Benches crowded like the rest. GLADSTONE in his | |
place, as eager to make speech as if it were his first on the subject. | |
HARTINGTON there too, and CHAMBERLAIN, making, with HENEAGE, a brave | |
show on end of Front Bench. GLADSTONE spoke early. A full House, but | |
everyone bored to death. Later, House thinned to degree that invited a | |
count; but at sound of bell Members held in hand for Division, swooped | |
down, got themselves counted, saved the sitting, and straightway fled | |
again. | |
GEORGE CAMPBELL concerned in interests of Protestant Church. A Papal | |
Envoy been received by QUEEN to present Jubilee congratulations. Was | |
that an exceptional privilege for an Ecclesiastic? Would the Brahmin | |
Head of Benares be allowed to approach HER MAJESTY in similar way? No | |
answer. Would the Grand Imaum of Mecca? | |
The Under-Secretary of State shivered in his shoes, but still no | |
response. | |
Then Sir GEORGE, uplifting his voice to its most melodious heights, | |
produced his poser:--"Would the Moderator of the Free Church of Scotland | |
enjoy such a privilege?" | |
Old Morality and his colleagues on the Treasury Bench began to grow | |
uneasy. No saying where CAMPBELL'S list might end. FERGUSSON whispered | |
to and nudged till, propped on his feet, he feebly urged that Moderator | |
of Free Church of Scotland does not come under the category of a Foreign | |
Potentate. A poor quibble this. But CAMPBELL generously disinclined to | |
push his advantage, and Government escaped immediate defeat. | |
Growing excitement as Division on JOHN MORLEY'S Amendment restricting | |
duration of Act to three years approached. RITCHIE has invented new way | |
of taking Division. Members as anxious to try it as nursery of children | |
to handle new toy. At first some little difficulty in understanding it. | |
Members crowded round RITCHIE and asked how it was done. | |
"Nothing easier or clearer," he said. "There are six doors, which we | |
will call A, B, C, D, E, and F. As soon as division bell rings, F is | |
closed. B is left half open. Members voting 'Aye' pass through the A | |
door and meet the 'Noes' coming through D. A and C are then | |
simultaneously shut. If B is open, the 'Ayes' and the 'Noes,' having | |
seen E closed, form in one stream, pass through, and there you are. | |
Don't you see?" | |
[Illustration: Young 'Olden.] | |
Everybody saw quite clearly. Quite a pleasure to see ISAAC HOLDEN | |
(_etat._ eighty, but full of youthful vigour) starting off to try the | |
new experiment. Got through all right. But, half an hour later, GILBERT | |
GREENALL found in recesses of ventilating cellars, where, he said, he | |
was "looking for door E." | |
_Business done._--Report on Coercion Bill. | |
_Tuesday._--WILFRID LAWSON made admirable suggestion to-night. Proposes | |
that, when titles or honours are conferred upon anyone, a statement | |
should accompany announcement, setting forth the public services on | |
account of which the honour has been conferred. It is so done in respect | |
of Victoria Cross. List of Honours conferred in connection with Jubilee | |
show the necessity of extending custom. | |
"Who's he?" said Sir BORTHWICK, Bart., looking down the _Gazette_ when | |
it came out. "Never heard of him, nor him either. I seem to be really | |
the only distinguished person in the lot." | |
List notable not only for what it includes but for what it omits. House | |
of Commons united in expectation of one recognition, looked for in vain. | |
If "Barnets" were to be made in Jubilee time, why was JOSEPH GILLIS | |
overlooked? This thought in everyone's mind, as JOEY B. turned up | |
to-night telling in a division against the Government. His public | |
appearance now so rare that its recurrence was an event. Since he came | |
into possession of Castle Butlerstown the alteration, long-working, made | |
sudden and complete advance. His moustache, now past the indefinite | |
stage, is an unquestionable reality, and to see JOEY B. twirling it _a | |
la_ RANDOLPH, is a delight to the quiet mind. JOSEPH feels his new | |
responsibilities. When reproached by TIM HEALY with his excessive | |
respectability he is not moved. | |
[Illustration: "Who's he?"] | |
"It's all very well for you, TIM, to be brow-beating the SPEAKER, | |
interrupting Hon. Members opposite, moving the adjournment and the like. | |
But it's different for a man who has a Castle, a drawbridge, a moat, and | |
a moustache." | |
Characteristic infelicity on the part of the Government to have | |
neglected this opportunity of recognising a reformed character. JOEY B. | |
is now a credit to the House. It would have been to the credit of the | |
Government had his friends been able to hail him as Sir JOSEPH GILLIS | |
BIGGAR, Bart., of Butlerstown Castle. | |
_Business done._--Coercion Bill again. | |
_Thursday._--"He! he!" said Old Morality, his white teeth shedding pale | |
light over Treasury Bench. "Capital joke! Hope they'll often repeat it." | |
Capital it was, and so unexpected, too. Secret admirably kept, and | |
sprung upon amazed House with marvellous effect. After questions, O. M. | |
moved Resolutions providing for discussion on Report Stage of Coercion | |
Bill being peremptorily closed at Seven o'Clock on Monday night. | |
"The Early Closing Association," said Sir WILFRID LAWSON, looking across | |
at Noble Lords and Right Hon. Gentlemen arrayed on Treasury Bench in | |
support of this Motion. | |
Parnellites of course hostile to Motion. But more particularly enraged | |
because O. M. in moving it had not spoken single sentence. | |
"Come, come," said JOHN DILLON, "this is too bad. If we are to lose our | |
liberties, let us, at least, have a speech in support of the | |
proposition." | |
But O. M. obdurately silent, and debate kept up for three hours from | |
Opposition side. Then Division taken, and Motion carried by majority of | |
a round hundred. After this, Ministers looked forward to another | |
wearisome evening, with Friday to follow, and more talk through Monday | |
up to fatal Seven o'Clock. Here's where the joke came in. The | |
Opposition, returning from Division Lobby after voting on Closure | |
Proposition, continued their march through the House and cleared out by | |
the door. Ministers watched process with amazement, growing into | |
apprehension, and finally broadening into a grin of delight as the joke | |
flashed upon them. Having given Government the trouble of preparing, | |
moving and carrying Resolution, fixing closure of debate on Monday | |
evening, Irish Members not going to debate at all! The Government might | |
take their Report Stage; which they did, and before you could say "W. H. | |
SMITH," the Report Stage of the Coercion Bill was agreed to, and House, | |
scarcely recovered from surprise, was engaged upon miscellaneous | |
business of the Orders of the day. | |
_Friday, Midnight._--Since dinner-time there has been exhilarating scene | |
in Palace Yard. Nearly every 'bus that has passed has dropped a Duchess | |
at the gate. Four-wheelers, conveying Countesses, have regularly filed | |
in; whilst, what Sir ROBERT PEEL would call "Noble Baronesses," have | |
arrived on foot. As distinguished Novelist somewhere writes, "Lo! a | |
strange thing has happened." On ordinary days House of Lords, which | |
commences public business at 5.30, adjourns about 5.37. At this hour of | |
midnight House still sitting, and no sign of Adjournment. Irish Land | |
Bill under debate. Subject irresistible to Noble Lords. Have foregone | |
their late afternoon drive in the Park. More than one has patriotically | |
dined on a chop. | |
A flush of honest pride mantles many a noble countenance. All very well | |
for the Commons to boast of their long sittings; but see what the Peers | |
can do when duty calls! At first a little consternation at the arrivals | |
from without. But even that turns out well. There were stories of | |
anxious wives communicating with House of Commons during All-night | |
Sittings, and finding errant husbands not there. But here are Noble | |
Lords unflinchingly serving their country, remaining at their post, | |
whate'er betide. | |
A beautiful and a soothing sight, which affects to tears some of the | |
Commons, who sit in the Gallery, and look down upon it. | |
_Business done._--Lords pass Report Stage of Irish Land Bill. | |
* * * * * | |
"HOME, SWEET HOME!" | |
(_New Version, by a Much-Worn-out M.P._) | |
"The welcome cry, 'Who goes home' sounds like a melancholy dirge | |
through the rapidly-emptying lobbies."--Mr. OSBORNE MORGAN, M.P., | |
_in the_ "_Nineteenth Century_." | |
MIDST clauses and paragraphs though we may roam. | |
Be it ever so dirge-like, there's no cry like "Home!" | |
A charm undefined seems to hallow it there, | |
After TANNER'S loud shindy and CONYBEARE'S blare. | |
Home! Home! Sweet, sweet "Home!" | |
Be it ever so dirge-like, there's no cry like "Home!" | |
An exile from office, I will not complain, | |
Give me only my calm "beauty sleep" once again; | |
The birds singing sweetly at dawn be my lot | |
To hear, not loud torrents of partisan rot. | |
Home! Home! Sweet, sweet "Home!" | |
Be it ever so dirge-like, there's no cry like "Home!" | |
* * * * * | |
CRICKET AT LORD'S. | |
_Hits by Dumb Crambo, Jun._ | |
[Illustration: A Patient Innings.] | |
[Illustration: A Cut in front of Point.] | |
[Illustration: Over!] | |
[Illustration: Last Man. His usual form.] | |
* * * * * | |
[Illustration] NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether | |
MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in | |
no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and | |
Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no | |
exception. | |
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume | |
93, July 9, 1887., by Various | |
*** |