Chapter 2

"THERE'S _no_ Obstruction!"--Why, then, all this ruction? "When _we_ obstruct, who dares to call't Obstruction?" To dam a deluge, stop a bolting horse,-- That is obstruction, of a sort, of course; _Our_ sort, in fact! But theirs on t'other side? That's quite another matter. They can't hide The cloven foot of malice, the false faitours! Not obstruct _them_? As well say not hang traitors!

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FAR TOO PREVIOUS.

In the Agony-Column of the _Times_ we now see daily the following Advertisement:--

TO IRISH LOYALISTS AND PROTESTANTS.--DEATH BEFORE SLAVERY!

Surely a most blameless sentiment. But the bearings of it lie in the application. And what is that? It seems as applicable to any existing situation as, say, "Lunch before Dinner," or "Business before Pleasure," or "Age before Honesty," or "Fingers before forks." _Mr. Punch_ ventures to suggest a modification, less striking, perhaps, in an "Agony-Column," but more in accord with patriotism and common-sense:--

To Irish Loyalists and Protestants! _Be_ Loyal, and Protest--_Constitutionally_!

The flamboyant, melodramatic, "Death before Slavery!" _may_ be applicable--when "Slavery" becomes a conceivable, proximate probability, or "Death" a possible alternative. Then let us have "Death before Slavery," by all means. At present, _Punch_ would say, "Common-sense before either!"

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Poor Political Economy!

(_By an elated Parliamentary Want-to-Knower._)

Oh! to waste half the time asking Questions is grand! "Supply" is not in it, just now, with "Demand"!

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"ALL A-BLOWING!"

AIR--_The celebrated Duet in "The Mikado."_

_Much-sold Pater and Mater sing:--_

_Pater._ The flowers that bloom in the Spring, Tra la, To purchase henceforth I decline. The hawkers those blossoms who bring-- Ah! bah!-- Will "swop 'em for most anything," Ha! ha! But as soon as you've bought 'em they pine.

_Both._ And that's what they mean when they say, or they sing, "He's as green as a man who buys flowers in the Spring," Tra la la la la la, &c.

_Mater._ The flowers that bloom in the Spring, Tra la! Are a sell, my dear hub, in _our_ case. I bought _this_ with a "suit"--there's the sting, Pa-pa! Which _he_ said was "a worn-hout hold thing," (O-la!) Just fancy his having the face! Now 'tis shrunken, and shrivelled, and that's why I sing, Oh, bother the flowers that bloom in the Spring! Tra la la la la la, &c.

_Both_ (_to Servant_). So tell the next rascal who ventures to ring, _We_'ll buy no more flowers that bloom in the Spring!

[_Dance, and exeunt, determined never again to be diddled by the howling "A-a-blowing and a-growing!" impostors, who, at this season, hawk heat-forced or illrooted pot-plants about the streets of the suburbs._

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HOW IT WOULD LOOK IN ENGLISH.

(_An adaptation from the French._)

_Anyone._ Let us accuse the Ministry of misappropriating twopence-halfpenny.

_The Entire Press._ Certainly, why not?

_The Opposition._ The Ministry are thieves.

_The Government._ After this insult we resign _en masse_.

_One of the Public._ It is said that Mr. BRIEFLESS JUNIOR has accused the First Lord of having stolen the Horse-Guards clock.

_First Lord._ Please, LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, request Mr. BRIEFLESS JUNIOR to keep a civil tongue in his head.

_L. C. J._ The Attorney-General is the proper person to offer a remonstrance.

_Sir Charles._ Can't undertake rows since I have restricted my private practice.

_Ex-Chancellor of the Exchequer._ I accuse the LORD CHANCELLOR.

_Lord Chancellor._ Why, and of what?

_Those Concerned._ Never mind that. What does it matter _who's_ accused, so long as everybody forgets _us_.

_Someone._ And now everything's completely mixed, does anyone know what the row's about?

_Everybody Else_ (_after a short silence_). Don't know, and don't care!

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"PUTTING OFF."

_Old Aquatic Hand, loquitur:--_

LOOK here, bonny boys! As we're launching our ship, And stringing our energies up for the tussle, Allow your old Stroke to suggest the straight tip! This is not a mere matter of Milo-like muscle. You are all looking fit, we've the pull in the weights-- Not _much_, to be sure, forty pounds, say, or thereabout. Still, that much should tell 'gainst the smartest of eights; It should give us the race, which is all that we care about.

'Twill be a close fight, bet your boots about that, _If_ we get a clear course without serious obstruction, Of which I'm not sanguine; the practice of PAT Has proved to possess universal seduction. Our last spin was muffed; never mind whose the fault; Let bygones be bygones! But now comes the crisis! It's now win or lose. Every man worth his salt Will pull like a Titan from Cam or from Isis.

But--pull clean together, and put on the pace When I call for a spurt, or we're in for a licking. And, Cox, don't _you_ steer us all over the place. In the fight that's before us, the course requires picking! So keep at attention, MAC, sharp all the way; A split-second's slackness may set our foes grinning. _Verb. sap.!_ Our last "spin" proved a "mull," I must say; We _must_ quicken the pace, if this bout we mean winning!

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* * * * *

MIXED NOTIONS.

No. VIII.--THE BOAT-RACE.

_Inquirer._ Are any of you chaps going to the Boat-Race?

_First Well-Informed Man._ No, I shan't. Everybody knows which is going to win, so there's deuced little interest in the race; and then you can always read it on the tape at your Club. Besides, I don't care much about rowing. It's a silly sort of exercise; anybody can do it.

_Second W. I. M._ Have you ever tried?

_First W. I. M._ (_indignantly_). Have I ever tried? Of course I have. Why, you were with me last Summer when we had that water-party from Taplow to Cookham.

_Second W. I. M._ Ah! but you didn't do much rowing then. You let me get all the blisters, and you just sat in the stern and steered us like a blessed corkscrew.

_First W. I. M._ Did I? I didn't remember that; but I do remember you catching about half-a-dozen crabs one after another.

_Second W. I. M._ True enough I caught one, but that was because you would keep standing up in the boat, and moving your body backwards and forwards. I suppose you thought the coxswains do that in their racing-boats?

_First W. I. M._ (_boldly_). They do. I've seen 'em doing it often.

_Second W. I. M._ Why, I thought you'd never seen the crews at all.

_First W. I. M._ Bosh! I never said anything of the kind. I'm not going to see the race this year, but I've often seen 'em practising down at Putney. Everybody knows the coxswains have to stand up. How do you suppose they could see to steer if they didn't? So where are you now, with all your accurate information, eh?

_Second W. I. M._ I'm where I was before, and I know I'm right, because my brother-in-law had a cousin who was at school with one of the Coxes about ten years ago. [_A pause._

_Inquirer_ (_looking up from his sporting paper_). I say, I thought the crews rowed in racing-boats.

_First W. I. M._ So they do.

_Inquirer._ Well, then, what does this mean? (_Reads._) "Both yesterday and to-day Cambridge rowed with a bucket. They must improve this if they want to win."

_First W. I. M._ (_smiling_). My dear fellow, they call their big practising-boat a bucket.

_Second W. I. M._ No, they don't--they call it a tub.

_First W. I. M._ Well, tub or bucket, it's the same thing. (_To_ Inquirer.) What you read just now means that their practising-boat has gone rotten, and they'll have to mend her up a bit.

_Inquirer_ (_dubiously_). But they don't row the race in a tub or a bucket, do they?

_Second W. I. M._ No, they row in a Clinker-Clasper.

_Inquirer._ What the deuce is that?

_Second W. I. M._ (_plunging_). Oh, it's a specially fast kind of racing-boat, built by CLINKER AND CLASPER. They're a firm of boat-builders--I thought everybody knew that.

_Inquirer._ But then, what does this paper mean by saying that Oxford are rowing in a Rough?

_Second W. I. M._ Why it means that their boat isn't so smooth as that of Cambridge.

_Inquirer_ (_puzzled_). But then it goes on to say that "She is as fine a specimen of a racing-craft as this eminent boat-builder has ever turned out." How can she be that, if she isn't as smooth as the Cambridge boat? Besides, who's "this eminent boat-builder?"

_Average Man._ ROUGH.

_Second W. I. M._ Rot!

_Average Man._ ROUGH, not Rot. ROUGH'S his name.

_Second W. I. M._ Let me see the paper. (_He reads, and addresses the_ Inquirer.) Why didn't you say the word was printed with a capital R? (_To_ Average Man.) Perhaps you're right, after all; but I know some boats _are_ rougher than others. [_A pause._

_Inquirer._ What's the difference between First Trinity and Third Trinity? Three of the Cambridge men are from First Trinity, and two from Third Trinity, besides the Cox.

_First W. I. M._ What's your difficulty? First is first, and Third's third, all the world over. Don't you see, the First Trinity men come first in the crew, and then the Third Trinity men.

_Inquirer._ But why don't some of 'em call themselves Second Trinity men?

_First W. I. M._ Oh, that's one of their silly bits of College etiquette. These chaps at the Universities are never happy unless they do things quite differently from all the rest of the world.

_Inquirer._ This beastly paper says, "the Cambridge stroke rowed much longer to-day."

_First W. I. M._ Well, what then?

_Inquirer._ Oh! nothing; only I thought they all rowed exactly the same distance when they're practising; so I don't quite see how any of 'em could have rowed longer than the rest.

_First W. I. M._ I daresay they made him row a good bit by himself; they often do that to give the stroke some extra practice. He wants it more than any of the rest.

_Second W. I. M._ Why?

_First W. I. M._ Oh, ah--well, because he's got to set the stroke for the others, or something of that sort.

_Inquirer._ How far do they row in the race?

_Second W. I. M._ About six miles or so.

_Inquirer._ By Jove, then, how on earth do they manage to get over all that distance with so few strokes. (_Refers to paper._) It says, "Oxford rowed 37 all the way, while Cambridge contented themselves with a well-pulled 35." (_With a happy inspiration._) If Cambridge can do it in 35 strokes, while Oxford take 37, it looks jolly like Cambridge winning by two strokes, don't it?

_First W. I. M._ All right; I'll lay you the odds on Oxford.

_Second W. I. M._ Good, I'll take 'em to five pounds. Oxford can't win.

_First W. I. M._ (_confidently_). Cambridge can't win. Anyway, I'll lay you ten pounds to five.

_Inquirer._ I should like to have a bet with somebody.

_Average Man._ You'd better write to one of the Presidents of the University-Boat Clubs. They're always ready to oblige a keen fellow like you with a bet.

_Inquirer._ Of course. That's my best plan. I'll write to-day.

[_Terminus._

* * * * *

UPON TERMS.

(_A Forensic Drama of the Future._)

[In a recent trial, Mr. Justice HAWKINS corrected a learned Counsel who talked about Witnesses "coming up to the scratch."]

_The Judge_ (_taking his seat_). I think, Mr. SMALLFEE, that you were examining a Witness when we adjourned yesterday. Are you ready to go on with the examination?

_Mr. Smallfee_ (_pleasantly_). I am sorry to say that Witness has not turned up yet, m'Lud!

_The Judge_ (_pained_). Not _what_?

_Mr. Smallfee._ I beg your Lordship's pardon. Of course what I _meant_ was that the Witness has not, as yet, condescended to irradiate the precincts of this tribunal with the sunshine of his presence.

_The Judge._ _That's_ better! Then we must go on to the next Witness.

_Mr. Smallfee_ (_with an evident attempt to keep up his spirits, in spite of misfortune_). The next Witness, also, I regret to say, has not turned----I mean, has failed to appear. The Solicitor informs me that he solemnly promised to attend; but I suppose the promise was all my eye.

_The Judge._ Dear, dear! What extraordinary expressions you do use, Mr. SMALLFEE! All my eye! Perhaps you will kindly interpret the phrase, for the benefit of the Court.

_Mr. Smallfee_ (_desperately_). As your Lordship pleases! But, as I feel rather down in the mouth now, and as the twelve sufferers in the Jury-box evidently think that this trial has lasted long enough already, and that we ought to stir our stumps, I would suggest----

_The Judge._ Usher! Step across to Booksellers' Row, and buy me a Slang Dictionary! I cannot--I really _cannot_ follow the learned Counsel.

_The Foreman_ (_interposing_). _We_ do not object to colloquial expressions, my Lord. Y' see, we're a _Common_ Jury, and we rather like them. All we want to do is to get on with the case. And perhaps it may assist the Court if at this stage I remark that the Jury has quite made up its mind, and is ready to give its verdict.

_The Judge_ (_astounded_). But--but--there has been no evidence for the defence!

_The Foreman_ (_calmly_). No, my Lord. But no doubt the learned Counsel's two Witnesses, had they been present, would have supplied some; and, anyhow, we are so pleased with his talking down to our level, and not--as usual--over our heads, that we are all agreed to find a verdict for his client, the Defendant.

_Mr. Smallfee_ (_bowing_). Thanks for your good opinion, Gentlemen. I thought, by the cut of your jibs, you were the right sort.

[_Winks, in passing out._

_The Judge._ And this is what the Law has come to! Call on the next case!

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NEW PROVERB (_for the use of the Panama Cheque-takers_).--"The game is not worth the Scandal."

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* * * * *

WILL WATERPROOF'S MONOLOGUE.

_Adapted to a Direct-Vetoed Parish._

O pale Head-Waiter at "The Cock," How changed for you and me Is this sad time! 'Tis five o'clock, Go, fetch a cup of tea; My pint of port is changed to that-- Weak COWPER'S washy liquor! Did tea make Cellarer SIMON fat, Or cheer Bray's jolly Vicar?

No more libations to the Muse! Will cocoa make her kind? Will water whisper words to use? Will milk make up my mind, When writing melancholy rhymes, Of days not half forgotten, Before these daft teetotal times When common-sense seems rotten?

Head-Waiter, those good pints of port Are stopped for you and me, By legislation of the sort They call grandmotherly; Two-thirds majority has said That alcohol would hurt you, And so you meekly bow your head, And practise painful virtue.

We fret, we fume, we scoff, we sneer, And evil fate upbraid; Your care is for the ginger-beer, The milk, the lemonade. To come and go, and come again With coffee that you keep hot, And watched by silent gentlemen, That trifle with the tea-pot.

Live long, for water to the head Was never known to fly, Your flabby face will not grow red, Nor will your washy eye. Live long as you can bear these woes, Whilst bigots thus defy sense, Till watery Death's last Veto shows Life's quite suspended licence.

"Aquarius," when you shall cease Teetotal drinks to quaff, And end life's not repairing lease, Might be your epitaph. No carved cross-pipes, no pint-pot's wreath, Shall show you past to Heaven; But water-pipes, and, underneath, A milk-pot neatly graven.

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* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

_House of Commons, Monday Night, March 13._--No use disguising fact that when House discovered FREDERICK MILNER standing behind Front Opposition Bench, brandishing heavy boot in his hand as he addressed ASQUITH, it held its breath. Political passion runs pretty high of late; Opposition stirred to deepest depths by persistence of Government in attempting to read Home-Rule Bill Second Time before Easter. There have been sittings after midnight; sittings through Saturday; hot words bandied about; preparation for deadly duel in lobby. No one can say whither men may be led when once they permit angry passions to rise. CHARLES RUSSELL, whose acquaintance with criminal classes is extensive, tells me it is by no means uncommon thing for prisoner in dock to take off boot and hurl it at head of presiding Magistrate or Judge.

"Usually an old woman who does it," he added.

"But this is Sir FREDERICK MILNER, Bart.," I said.

"Um!" said RUSSELL, with odd significance in the observation.

Turns out the apprehension groundless. MILNER only wants to know why Police at Leeds and Bradford should enjoy ultimate resources of civilisation in respect of "SCAITH'S silent boots," whilst London Policemen not so privileged? MILNER tells me his earliest idea was to get a pair of the boots, put 'em on, and surprise SPEAKER by approaching with noiseless tread from behind Chair, lean over his shoulder, and suddenly say, "Boo!" That, MILNER thought, would be conclusive proof of the efficacy of the boots as making the tread inaudible. On other hand, SPEAKER mightn't like it. So, by way of compromise, brought down odd boot in tail-pocket of his coat, and shook it at HOME SECRETARY when he put question.

ASQUITH behaved very well under trying circumstances. Did not visibly blench; answered, in off-hand manner, that London Police had had opportunity of substituting the silent boot for those in ordinary use, and had not availed themselves of it. Some had objected on domestic grounds. Female friends engaged in responsible posts in certain households on their beat were accustomed to the sound of their footfall on the pavement, and would not have things ready if they approached like rose-leaves flitting over shaven lawns. Others, assuming higher ground, resented silent boot as taking unfair advantage of the burglar or footpad. "Give a 'ardworking cove a fair chanst, that's my motter," one honest fellow in blue said to HOME SECRETARY when Right Hon. Gentleman brought silent boot under his notice. No use attempting to run counter to feeling of this kind. Conclusion in which DICKY TEMPLE heartily concurred.

"Silent boot," he said, "forced upon Metropolitan Police might play in history a part analogous to that of the greased cartridges on which we slipped into the Indian Mutiny."

MILNER saw it was evidently no use, so returning boot to coat-tail pocket, moodily regarded Treasury Bench.

But there were consolations. SQUIRE of MALWOOD, asked by Prince ARTHUR what he now thought of prospects of reading Home-Rule Bill Second Time before Easter, admitted impossibility; triumphant shout from Opposition. Not in vain had they sat through morning sitting on Friday discussing the hour at which they should adjourn on Saturday. Not without recompense had they taken care that when Saturday came it should see accomplished the minimum of business. Tussling with Mr. G. ever since Session opened; in first rounds he came off best; drew first blood; seemed likely to carry everything with him; Opposition pulled themselves together; went at it hammer and tongs; and now it is Mr. G. who has retired to corner; the sponge is in requisition on the Treasury Bench; the air around it redolent of the perfume of the indispensable vinegar.

"Guinness will go up a point or two on this," said ELLIS ASHMEAD BARTLETT, Knight, who has taken Irish securities under his wing. "Go down a pint or two, you mean," said WILFRID LAWSON, who is irreclaimable.

_Business done._--Attack on Justice MATHEW and Evicted Tenants' Commission repulsed by 287 Votes against 250.

_Tuesday._--SQUIRE of MALWOOD a changed man. No longer the light-hearted, sometimes almost frivolous youth who through six years sat on Front Opposition Bench, and girded at the Unionist Government. A Minister himself now; Mr. G.'s right-hand man; First Lieutenant of the Ship of State; acting Captain when, as happens just now, Mr. G. temporarily turned in. Once this afternoon something of old spirit stirred within him when HOWARD VINCENT (as he said) used the Stationary Vote as a peg on which to hang Protection heresies. But, for most part, he sits silent and self-communing, saying nothing, but, probably, like the parrot of old, thinking the more. In Conservative ranks feeling of profound respect growing in his favour. Curious to hear them say, "Ah! if everyone on Treasury Bench bore himself like HARCOURT, things would be different." Even the blameless BRYCE is held up to contumely in contrast with mild-mannered MASTER of MALWOOD. As for CHARLES RUSSELL, after his speech last night, good Conservatives, following an Eastern custom, well enough in its place, spit when they mention his name. For them the model of all Parliamentary virtue is the SQUIRE of MALWOOD.

Don't know how long this passion of appreciation will last; interesting to observe while yet with us. A lull all round in sympathy with soothing moments of CHANCELLOR of EXCHEQUER. Even J. W. LOWTHER'S perturbed mind at rest. Knows now, to a fraction, how many lead-pencils are annually in use in directing destinies of British Empire. Rumour current that origin of this inquiry was a little undertaking promoted by Hon. Member in substitution of proscribed word-guessing competitions. Sweep got up; £5 entry; every man to guess at precise figure of lead-pencil census; the one coming nearest to clear the pool. LOWTHER tells me not word of truth in report. In putting his question as to number of lead-pencils in use, and in sticking to it in spite of jeers of bystanders and guilty reticence of Minister, he was actuated simply by motives of public policy; desired, in short, to live up to standard of late lamented Leader and do his duty to his QUEEN and Country.

_Business done._--Great lead-pencil question settled. Excited House Counted Out at 9.20.

_Thursday Night._--House dying to know what Major FREDERICK CARNE RASCH had to say on Navy Estimates. Not being Major of Marines, initial difficulty is to imagine what he did in this galley. If it had been the Army, or even the Militia, the Major would have seemed all right. But what had he to do with the Navy? That, however, is for the Major a minor point. "You CARNE be too RASCH when attacking this Government," said KENYON, with his pretty elliptical speech.

It was half-past ten, and a dull night. Navy Estimates been talked round for nearly five hours. SQUIRE of MALWOOD meekly hoped that a Vote would now be taken; DICKY TEMPLE presented himself at footlights with bewitching smile on his lips and elegantly bound gilt-edged volume under his arm; bowed to audience; opened volume; proceeding to offer few remarks when SQUIRE swooped down on him with Closure.