Chapter 2

_Dr. Herd._ (_involuntarily_). She's drinking my punch! If she thinks I'm going to stand this sort of thing, she's mistaken. I'll soon show her a Pill-Doctor is a very different kind of person from a mere Master Builder!

[HILDA _finishes the punch with an indefinable expression in her eyes, and_ Dr. HERDAL _looks on gloomily as the Curtain falls. End of First Act._

* * * * *

"AMONG THE MEMORABLE BOOKS OF THE PRESENT RAINE."--Canon RAINE has just published (_per_ LONGMANS) his _York_, as one of the series of Historic Towns. The proofs of RAINE on _York_ of course came very moist from the press. Is there a frontispiece to it of "RAINE poring over his own book?" The work is highly spoken of,--so _disons_, "_Vive le Raine!_"

* * * * *

Mr. WILSON BARRETT is to appear in a play called _Pharaoh_--"What the plague!"--Is he coming out as an Egyptian Mummer? Will the drama prove interesting to plague-goers?

* * * * *

A FULL MEASURE OF JUSTICE.

(_According to the Modern Method._)

SCENE--_The Old Bailey._ Judge _seated on the Bench, thoroughly enjoying himself_. Prisoner _in the Dock_. Jurymen _in the Box_. Counsel, Solicitors, _and_ Public, _in attendance_.

_Judge._ Now I will swear the Jury.

_Officer of the Court._ I beg your Lordship's pardon, but I have always been accustomed to----

_Judge_ (_interrupting_). Not at all; I will do it myself. You can't give _me_ too much work. (_Swears the_ Jury.) And now, Prisoner, what do you plead, guilty or not guilty?

_Prisoner._ Well, my Lord, I should say----

_Judge._ Not guilty. Quite right, always give yourself the benefit of the doubt. You can't imagine what stupid Jurymen we have sometimes. Quite right to say Not guilty. And now who appears for the prosecution?

_Counsel._ I do, my Lord, I----

_Judge._ Glad to see the eminent counsel here, and I know of no one who can better conduct a case. Still, with my learned friend's or rather my learned brother's, I should say the learned Counsel's permission, I will just open for the Crown myself. (_Opens for the Crown with brilliant effect. Applause._) No; I cannot allow any demonstration of that sort. By the way (_to_ Counsel for the Prosecution), Have we any witnesses?

_Counsel._ Yes, my Lord, a Police Sergeant.

_Judge._ Oh, indeed, I will soon settle him. (Witness _enters box and is sworn_.) And now, you Sir, I am not going to allow any speeches--so be on your guard. (_Examines and cross-examines him._) Have we any more witnesses?

_Counsel._ No, my Lord--that is our case.

_Judge._ Quite so. The face of the learned Counsel, who is retained for the defence, is new to me, but if he has no objection, I will open for him.

_Counsel._ As your Lordship pleases.

_Judge._ Thank you. (_Addresses the Jury._) And now, if we have no witnesses, I think I will sum up. (_To_ Counsel for the Defence.) Have we any witnesses?

_Counsel._ As your Lordship pleases.

_Judge._ Well, I think we won't call any witnesses, because then the Prosecution won't have a reply.

_Counsel._ As your Lordship pleases.

_Judge._ Quite so. And now, Gentlemen of the Jury, I have now my own special functions to perform. I will sum up the case in my judicial capacity. You must know then----(_Sums up._) And now I will leave you to decide upon your verdict. (_Jury consults._) Or perhaps you would like to leave the matter to me?

_Foreman of the Jury._ As your Lordship pleases.

_Judge._ Thank you. Then I think we may say "Guilty." Prisoner at the Bar, it is now my duty to sentence you. I think, under all the circumstances of the case, that I need not treat you too harshly. There is no doubt that the prosecution has been conducted in a very able manner; and this remark is equally applicable to the manner in which the defence has been carried out. I think a month's imprisonment will be sufficient. Prisoner, you are sentenced to a month's imprisonment.

_Prisoner._ As your Lordship pleases.

_Judge._ But, as I have had a good deal to do with this case, I think I may as well remain in it to the end. So, with the consent of the convict, the Counsel, and the Jury, I will go to prison myself.

_The Entire Court._ As your Lordship pleases.

_Judge._ Thank you all very much. I hope, after a month's retirement, to have the pleasure of meeting you again.

[_Exit, in custody. Curtain._

* * * * *

FOR A FEW NIGHTS OHNET.--Mr. and Mrs. KENDAL have revived _The Ironmaster_. As may be imagined, the dialogue is full of irony.

* * * * *

* * * * *

BETWEEN THE ROUNDS.

["The record of the Opposition, so far, is one of wasted opportunities and ill-conceived tactics. They have been beaten, out-manoeuvred and discredited by a foe on whom, with proper management, they might often have turned the tables.... These are no days for punctilious or overstrained courtesy in dealing with political opponents.... Conservatives and Unionists may be tolerably certain that they will gain nothing by this misplaced delicacy."--_The Standard._]

_Perturbed Old Party loquitur_:--

Wich, ARTHUR, I'm puffeck aweer as a fighter you're truly tip-top, Our party's pecooliar pride, and our cause's particular prop! _You_ can "pop in a slommacking wunner," if ever a lad could, dear boy: But--well, there, you ain't scored _this_ round; and yer foes is a-chortling with joy! 'Ow is it, my ARTHUR, 'ow is it! I've nurriged you up from a kid, And if ever a lathy young scrapper showed pluck and fair promidge, boy, _you_ did; Wich I've cheridged and cracked you up constant, and backed you in all of your fights. And I've swore it was you, right as rain, as would do the Grand Ould 'Un to rights! But he's turned up more younger than ever--O drabbit him; 'ow he do wear!-- I thought he'd be knocked out at once, the fust round, and he ain't turned a hair! He hits hard and fast as the "TINMAN," he's nimble as poor "Young DUCROW." And now this round's over, _where are we_? I'm jiggered, dear boy, if _I_ know! Look at 'im! As perky as pickles! Weaves in like a young 'un, he do, Jest as limber of limb as a kitten; pops in that perdigious one--two, Like a new Eighty-tonner. Good gracious, the wetterun's all over the shop! He can mill you, or throw you a burster; feint, parry, duck, counter, or stop! Reglar mixture of MACE, Young DUTCH SAM, and a Old Pugilistical 'And! 'Ow the dooce does he do it, I wonder? I don't mind admitting it's grand. But--wot price our Party, my ARTHUR? He's scoring two points to our one; And I don't see the fun of it, ARTHUR, I certinly _don't_ see the fun.

Mustn't take it to heart overmuch, 'ARTY! 'Taint as I wants for to scold; But--you play him too light--_entry noo_! 'Taint acos you are young, and he's old. As you need be so precious "punctilious." Delicate 'andling of _him_ Won't pay; it's misplaced altogether. Go at him, lad! Lam the old limb! His bellows can't be as they used to wos. Youth will be served--that's your chance; But, if you play light with Old Shifty, he'll lead you no end of a dance. Think of BENJY, dear boy, my old champion, bless his black curls! _He_ wired in, Never thinking of manners or taste, wich is muck when you're fighting to win. Look at GRANDOLPH, the Marlborough Midget, as often reminds me of BEN! There--there! Don't turn touchy, and tiff; we all need a straight tip now and then. You can do him, next round, I've no doubt, if you'll only fight up to your form. Pull yourself well together, 'it 'ard, bustle up the old boy, make it warm!-- Remember wot JOHNNY BROOME'S mother once wrote to her boy--mark, and mind!-- "Be sure you make use of your left; keep away from your man till you find You can reach him in safety, and _then_--give him pepper. Avoid being thrown. But give 'im all the bursters you can!" Wich that Ammyzon, who is beknown To the fistical world, gave her son--as you're mine--werry proper advice. When time's called, my ARTHUR, wire in; and wotever you do, _don't be nice_! No "overstrained courtesy" _this_ time! It's blessed nigh bunnicked your chance. Let me fan you, dear boy, let me fan you! And when it is time to hadvance Go at 'im for all you are wuth! Bless yer, him and his low Irish lot Won't be in it with GENTLEMAN ARTHUR--_if only you'll give it him hot_!

[_Left fanning and fuming._

* * * * *

SHAKSPEARII JUNIORES.--Sir AUGUSTUS HARRIS'S and PETTITT'S _Prodigal Daughter_ is going all over the shop. She is coming out in France, in Germany, also, of course, in the Horse-tryin' capital, and will appear, as a matter-of-Corso, in Rome. This for the original English authors is a dramatic triumph which for the universality of their work is second only to that of SHAKSPEARE.

* * * * *

* * * * *

POPULAR SONGS RE-SUNG.

THE MAN THAT SMOKES THE RANK TWO-D CIGAR, OH!

AIR--"_The Man that broke the Bank at Monte Carlo._"

[_Pardon, good_ GILBERT, _pardon, genial_ COBORN, _That from the Bois Boolong. Unto the Cockney purlieus of 'Igh 'Olborn, We shift your famous song._]

I'm just "all there," no 'ARRY; I've the money, so I score! To a Race last week I went, And there staked a quarter's rent. Dame Fortune smiled upon me as she never done before: And now I've copped the ochre I'm a gent! Yus, now I've piled the pieces, I'm a gent!

_Chorus._

As I mash and lark in Finsbury Park, With a free an' heasy hair, You can twig the donahs stare. "BOB must be a millionnaire!" You can 'ear 'em cry, "Oh, ain't _'e_ fly? And carn't 'e wink the hother heye?" The man wot smokes the prime Two-D cigar, oh!

I've chucked my crib, and two-quid-screw, for betting's now _my_ walk; I do my mornin' march Down to the Marble Arch. I'm bound to spot more winners; I've a eye that's like a 'awk; I'm a mass of oof and 'air-oil, shine and starch; Yus, a reg'lar mass of ochre, shine and starch.

_Chorus._

As I walk along, still "going strong," With my Tuppenny all a-flare, You can 'ear old buffers swear, As my baccy scents the air. You can hear 'em sigh, And moan, "Oh my!" You can see 'em choke, and blink the heye At "the man wot smokes the rank Two-D cigar, oh!"

I paternise the Promenards on a Sunday, with the Swells, With my topper on the skew, And my cloud a-blowin' blue; For a tuppenny smoke and a leary joke they nobble the mam'selles, And if they're nuts on me, wot can _I_ do? Yus, if they're arter me, wot can _I_ do?

_Chorus._

As I swagger and swell along Pell-Mell, With a reg'lar oof-bird air, You can 'ear sour swells declare, "A Whitechapel weed!"--and swear. But their narsty cry Means--jealousy. So I puff, and wink the hother heye-- "The man wot smokes the rank Two-D Cigar, oh!"

* * * * *

Nuts for Knutsford.

In the City Article of last Saturday's _Times_, we read that Lord KNUTSFORD has joined the London Board of "CHAFFEY, BROS., Limited." What a festive board! What a rivalry must exist among the CHAFFEY Brothers as to who shall be the chaffiest and the wheatiest of the family!

* * * * *

WOMEN'S WRONGS IN JAPAN.

[The new Japanese Press Bill prohibits women from becoming Publishers or Editors.--_Daily Graphic._]

A Land of flowers and of Art, Which lived for centuries apart, Some years ago woke with a start; Folks, simply dressed by wrappin' knees In silken robes of dainty hue, Began to long for something new The good, the beautiful, the true No longer charmed the Japanese.

So Western Art improved their lot; A House of Commons grew. Each got Boots, trousers, frock-coat, chimney-pot. "Art? 'E don't care a rap, an' 'e's," Saus 'ARRY, "sich a swell! I'm blowed 'E'd knock 'em in the Old Kent Road." You are a sight, dressed _à la mode_ O too-progressive Japanese!

And yet, to _Madame Chrysanthème_, Divided Skirter, Primrose Dame, And all the rest, are but a name; It therefore cannot happen ease Is yours, although men dress like frights, And even have election fights; One thing is wanting--Women's Rights, O _fin-de-siècle_ Japanese!

* * * * *

THE COMING COAL-SCUTTLE.

Sweet Maiden, what is this you wear, This most eccentric sort of bonnet, That stands erect upon your hair As though a coal-scoop fixed upon it?

A very funny shape it seems, Flat, oval, rather like a shuttle, Or, like some Statesmen's foreign schemes, A sort of undecided scuttle.

And yet not wholly of the kind Beloved by loud Salvation lasses, Which brings the coal-box to one's mind-- BOOTH'S fashions would not suit the Classes.

There's some resemblance to a spoon, But you are not considered "spooney"-- Word coined by some low buffoon, Romantic, quite, as "_Annie Rooney_."

It's rather like the ace of spades, And yet it plays the deuce with features, O Queen of hearts, of pretty maids, So say we knaves of clubs, male creatures;

Who look askance at what may shade-- When larger grown--the face that charms us. If scoop or scuttle, spoon or spade, No matter; each of them alarms us.

* * * * *

A POSSIBLE BUNGLER.--Through REUTER'S Agency last Friday, we learn that "BUNGLE KHAN is in Afghan territory." Capital man to be opposed to us. We shall be ready to take any advantage of him, as, if BUNGLE KHAN _can bungle_, he will of course do so.

* * * * *

ONE FOR THE OTHER SIDE.--Mrs. R. cannot understand how Mr. GLADSTONE can advocate Monometallism in the House of Commons, as, she says, she has always heard that "Words are silver, and silence is gold."

* * * * *

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

_House of Commons, Monday, February 27._--"Am thinking, TOBY," said RIGBY, just now, "of applying for Chiltern Hundreds. Parliament isn't quite the place I pictured to myself when I fought for a seat. Of course I've done pretty well. To be made SOLICITOR-GENERAL right off, with WADDY around, and WILLIS still in prime of life and energy, was a fine thing. But House seems perversely inclined to accept me as a joke, and that's not the sort of thing I'm accustomed to at Chancery Bar. Look what happened the other night, when, in my learned brother RUSSELL'S absence, I answered questions. Did it in my best, most imposing, and conclusive style. Kept my eye on SPEAKER throughout, to see how he'd take it. Effect most satisfactory. You know I make CHITTY sit up, and NORTH tremble. They, to certain extent, used to it; all new to SPEAKER, and told accordingly. Was really fascinated myself. I frowned at him, pursed my mouth, wrinkled my forehead, squared my jaw, sometimes lowered my voice into my boots, anon uplifted it above where my wig ought to have been. Being my first appearance at table, thought it worth while to make an effort. Judging from SPEAKER'S limp appearance towards conclusion of my remarks, felt I had done it. Suddenly curious noise, that I'm told is known as a titter, interrupted me, and, before I had quite finished, there was a boisterous roar of laughter."

"Oh, come," I said, "you mustn't take that too much to heart. House will have its joke, and, if you won't make it, it sometimes makes it round you, using you as lay-figure. Your voice and manner in answering simple matter-of-fact question, were perhaps a size or so too large. But you'll get the hang of the place by-and-by, and will be all right."

"I don't think so," said SOLICITOR-GENERAL, sadly. "Look again what happened just now. House unexpectedly goes into Committee. Can't find MELLOR. 'You take the Chair,' says the SQUIRE; 'you'll fill it admirably.' No time for hesitation; I take the Chair; Clerk claps Bill into my hand. I say, 'Question is, that I do report progress, and ask leave to sit again.' Shouts of 'Aye,' and 'No.' 'I think the Ayes have it,' I say, in deep chest-notes, with persuasive fall of eyebrows. 'The Noes have it!' they shout. Very well; first duty of Chairman is to be impartial; so _I_ say, 'The Noes have it.' Again they roar with laughter. WOODALL, in charge of Bill, feels for sword of Financial Secretary to War Office. Fortunately, can't find it. Otherwise, Chair of Committees might have been steepled with my gore. What shall I do next? 'Put question again,' Clerk hoarsely whispered. 'Question is, that I do report progress, and ask leave to sit again. Those who are of that opinion say Aye; the contrary, No. I think the Ayes have it.' That would at least get me out of the Chair, and you certainly won't find me asking for leave to sit again. But what follows? In all parts of the House, just now opposing progress, hilarious shout of 'No! No!' rises up. That means I'm to go on with the Bill; but I know if I declare 'the Noes have it,' they'll turn round to the 'Ayes.' So, after standing for moment irresolutely, Bill in hand, I'm not ashamed to say I bolted from table, taking Bill with me. House roared louder than ever. Seem to have discovered excellent joke. But I don't see it, TOBY. If this is House of Commons life, give me the dignity and quiet of the Chancery Bar."

Quite a procession of new Members took their seats on election. Honours of the day with HARRY LAWSON, who, after stubborn fight, has won Cirencester. As young HARRY, with his beaver on, marched to table, Liberals temporarily relieved themselves from imputation that they don't know how to cheer.

_Business done._--Local Veto Bill brought in.

* * * * *

_Tuesday Night._--"It's a natural temptation," said CHARLES RUSSELL, "for the human mind to believe that Mr. G.'s latest performance at table of House of Commons excels all he has done before. There is a phrase--you are probably familiar with it in HORACE--which speaks of the _Laudator temporis acti_. But the other impulse is certainly, in this connection, quite as strong, I, therefore, hesitate to affirm that that's the best speech Mr. G. ever made; but certainly it's among the best."

It was on Bimetallism. Like olives and claret, Bimetallism quite an acquired taste; ordinary Member will have none of it; flees House when subject announced. In the Parliamentary world, Bimetallism supplies part of the BROWNING or IBSEN cult known out-of-doors. Analogy accurate inasmuch, that whilst mass of mankind are averse to contemplation of topic, the few faithful pass all ordinary bounds in the enthusiasm of their worship. Thus, for upwards of hour to-night, MEYSEY-THOMPSON handled it as if he loved it. MONTAGU, whilst musically jingling in trowser-pocket handful of newly-minted sovereigns, equally adulatory. Then Mr. G. walked in. It was reasonably thought in advance that Bimetallism would prove too much even for the charm of his oratory. Had evidently come down unprepared for special effort; neither sheaf of notes nor pomatum-pot. He listened to mover and seconder, and then just talked to entranced House, crowding up in every corner. Quite surprised, as Mr. G. was himself when he sat down, to find he'd been talking for an hour.

_Business done._--House declares by 229 votes against 148, will have nothing to do with Bimetallism.

* * * * *

_Wednesday._--Hear a very pleasant thing in connection with an old friend. Am told that as soon as Local Veto Bill passes into law, WILFRID LAWSON is to be raised to the Peerage.

"Why not?" asks SQUIRE OF MALWOOD. "On the principle that the Devil shouldn't have all the good tunes suitable for WESLEY'S hymns, why should the Trade have the monopoly of the Peerage? Why shouldn't there be a Viscount APPOLINARIS as well as a Baron BASS, a Lord BARLEYWATER to pair off with a Baron BARLEYCORN? Let us drink (in toast-and-water), health and long life to Lord BARLEYWATER of Brayton!"

_Business done._--In discussion on Irish National Education Bill GRANDOLPH effects little surprise. Been running admirably in double harness with Prince ARTHUR. This afternoon suddenly jibs; nearly upsets coach.

* * * * *

_Friday_, 1 A.M.--"Begin to think, TOBY," said Prince ARTHUR, as we walked home together in the moonlight, "that we shall scotch this Home-Rule Bill yet. Expectation only just dawned on me. When I went down to House in the afternoon, was of different opinion. Had philosophically settled down to acceptance of inevitable. Might maim it a bit in Committee; play with it so as to block off other business, and send it up to Lords at so late period of Session that they would seem justified in throwing it out, on score of inadequate time to discuss it. Now I think we shall go one better. COURTNEY thought he could serve Unionist cause better from standpoint below Gangway. The supremest service he could render to that cause was effected when he created vacancy in Chair."

"Don't you think," I said, "they were a little hard on MELLOR? Wasn't the sport something after the fashion of the gallant emprise in Windsor Park with the carted stag? And then the merry sportsmen didn't give the new Chairman the ordinary courtesy of a fair start and a little run."

"Oh," said Prince ARTHUR, "if you put it in that way, of course there's something to be said. But all is fair in hate and war. Mr. G. should have thought of that before he got rid of COURTNEY. Our business is to stop Home-Rule Bill from passing, and after to-night the way is clear, and the goal certain."

_Business done._--New Chairman baited for an hour by Westminster Clock. Before the lawless, disorderly squabble about Law and Order in County Clare, regular foot-ball scrimmage, in which SAUNDERSON naturally turned up. In one of the pauses the Colonel dropped into poetry? could hear him crooning to himself:--

There's Justice O'BRIEN of Clare, How rare! 'Tis little for justice they care Down there!

They're choke full of crimes, (So at least says the _Times_), And they've got no policemen to spare, How quare! They've got no policemen to spare.