Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, May 20, 1893
Chapter 1
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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI
VOLUME 104, MAY 20TH 1893
edited by Sir Francis Burnand
OPENING OF THE IMPERIAL INSTITUTE.
Another Show! A splendid Imperial Show! Magnificent weather! Real QUEEN'S weather, and consequently a big success. The grandeur, the solidarity of the British Empire--[&c., &c. *.* _Editor regrets that for lack of space he is compelled to omit the remainder of this remarkably fine panegyric. He suggests to Author that it would come out well in pamphlet form, price one shilling, or it might be given away with a pound of Indian tea._--ED.] Obedient to the call of duty I was myself present as one of the 'umblest of the distinguished guests assembled to welcome Her Imperial MAJESTY on this auspicious occasion. It was my good fortune to be immediately in front of a charming Young Lady and her delightful Grandmother. The latter was a trifle deaf, and her Granddaughter being a wonderfully well-informed young lady, I had quite an enjoyable time of it; as had also my neighbours, though I regret to say that some of them after the first three-quarters of an hour seemed rather to resent the gratuitous information given with astonishing volubility by the amiable Young Lady to her confiding relative. For example, up came his Grace the Archbishop of CANTERBURY. "That's the LORD CHANCELLOR," our well-informed Young Lady told her Grandmother. Much cheering greets Lord SALISBURY. "That's General ROBERTS," said the Young Lady, adding, as if rather doubting her own accuracy, "though why he wears a naval uniform I am unable to say." It didn't matter; her Grandmother was equally pleased. "Which is Mr. GLADSTONE?" asked the Old Lady. The Young Lady used her opera-glass. "I don't see him," she returned slowly. "Of course he can't be in a turban. I know he has no whiskers or moustache--ah! there he is!--there, talking to Sir EDWARD LEIGHTON!" She hadn't got even the Christian names correct. I looked in the direction she had indicated and saw Sir WILLIAM HARCOURT in close proximity to Sir RICHARD TEMPLE. But why should I turn and dispel the harmless illusion? Was it for me to bring discord into a family, and cause the Granddaughter to be cut out of the Grandmother's will? Never! So, "from information received," the Old Lady went on implicitly believing in her informant, and treasuring up the particulars for the benefit of her other Grandchildren. "Lord ROBERTS is somewhere here," observed the Young Lady, sweeping the horizon (so to speak, with apologies to "the horizon") with her _lorgnette_. "Oh, I should like to see _him_!" exclaimed the Old Lady, enthusiastically. "Where is he?" "Oh, I think--" replied the Granddaughter, hesitatingly, "I rather--think --I've only seen him once--but--oh yes," she added, with wonderful confidence on finding she was commanding an interested audience of simple neighbours--"Oh yes--there--in a General's uniform,--he has just come in--and he is looking for his place,"--and, following guidance, I, too, craned forward, and was rewarded by catching a glimpse of Mr. FREDERICK GORDON, Chairman of the Grand Hotels Co., Limited, who was good enough to salute me with that air of conscious power which becomes part and parcel of a man who has the command of countless battalions in waiting. Encouraged by this incident (for I had not rounded on her and said, "that is _not_ Lord ROBERTS") the Young Lady urged on her mistaken career more wildly than ever. She pointed out the wrong Princess MAY, the Duke of FIFE became H.R.H. the Duke of YORK, the TECKS were the MECKLENBURG-STRELITZES, the Gentlemen-at-Arms were dismounted Chelsea Pensioners in Court dress; the Chinese ladies were Japanese (for they couldn't get even these correct,--and of course these Orientals are most correct), and finally, looking up to the gallery where the Orchestra was, she crowned the edifice by loudly announcing that Sir ARTHUR SULLIVAN was Sir ARTHUR BALFOUR, and added that he was only performing his official duty as Leader of the House of Commons. "Then," asked the simple Old Lady, "are the musicians all obliged to be Members of Parliament?" Her Granddaughter was equal to the occasion, and answered unhesitatingly, "Yes, dear, _all_."
* * * * *
* * * * *
After this, what was the show! Everybody was somebody else. Only the QUEEN and the PRINCE were beyond the power of error. She found them out at once. She was enthusiastic about the distinctness of the PRINCE's voice in reading the Address, and she bent forward so as not to lose a syllable of the QUEEN's gracious reply. She explained everything wrong. A few ladies looked at her, mutely beseeching some respite for their ears; would she only give herself ten minutes' rest? No--it was a great chance for the well-informed young woman, and she made the most of it. Even the heat didn't affect her. Processions might come, and processions might go, but like the babbling brook, she could and would "go on for ever." I have forgotten to add that she also knew how everyone arrived, and her Grandmother was much interested at hearing how Her Majesty's Judges all came in an omnibus, driven and conducted by eminent judicial functionaries.
A grand show, "Abely worked by our Secretary," says Sir Early-Springs-and-SOMERS VINE, C.M.G., Assistant Secretary, and to both of them great praise is due. Now, then, to adapt the title of Lord LYTTON's novel, "_What will we do with it?_"
THE MAN WHO WENT.
* * * * *
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
In the _Song of the Sword and Other Verses_, Mr. HENLEY incidentally asks, "What have I done for you, England, my England?" Since the question is put so pointedly, my Baronite, who has been looking through the little volume of verse, is bound to reply that, what Mr. HENLEY has done for England is to make it as ridiculous as is possible to a man with a limited audience. Mr. HENLEY has a pretty gift of versification, but it is spoiled by a wearisome proneness to smartness, and an assumption of personal superiority that occasionally reaches the heights of the ludicrous. If 'ARRY had been at the University, and had bent what he calls his mind upon verse-making, some of the truculent rhyme in this book is the sort of stuff he would have turned out. It seems at first hearing a far cry from 'ARRY to HENLEY. But the dispassionate reader, turning over these sulphurous leaves, will perceive deeply-rooted similarity in that narrowness of view, and that undisturbed consciousness that it alone is right, which distinguish the reflections, and are found in the observations, of 'ARRY when he views society from his lower standpoint.
Messrs. HUTCHINSON & Co. have published a _Book of Wise Sayings_, by W. A. CLOUSTON. Not that W. A. CLOUSTON said them all, or any of them, but he selected them. One fault has the Baron to find with the selecting collector, and that is that his references are incomplete. He affixes the name of the author to every wise saying, but as he does not give chapter and verse, it is impossible for the ordinary unlearned reader to ascertain when and where the wise saying was uttered. Perhaps this omission is wise on the part of Mr. CLOUSTON. However, here is a happy example for the time present:--
"Safe in thy breast close lock up thy intents, For he that knows thy purpose best prevents."--_Randolph._
Isn't that good? Isn't it "RANDOLPH" to the life? Is anyone quite certain as to the course our RANDOLPH will take?
There are, too, quotations from "R. CHAMBERLAIN"--not from JOSEPH--with whose works the Baron is not so conversant as he might be. Saith R. CHAMBERLAIN:--
"A foolish man in wealth and authority is like a weak-timbered house with a too-ponderous roof."--_R. Chamberlain._
The Baron strongly recommends the study of this volume to Mr. OSCAR WILDE; it will save him hours of painful cogitation during the incubation of his next play.
THE BARON DE B.-W. & CO.
* * * * *
ANOTHER HOME-RULE QUESTION.--Ulster objects. Ulster threatens. If Home Rule becomes the law of the land, the Ulstermen will resist _vi et armis_. Do they propose to set up an Opposition Sovereignty? If so, they have a monarch at hand with the very title to suit them. He is to be found at the Heralds' College, and he is the, _par excellence_, "Ulster King-at-Arms!"
* * * * *
STAGE WHISPER AT WESTMINSTER.--The Comedy of Committee now tends towards becoming Mellor-drama.
* * * * *
"NANA WOULD NOT GIVE ME A BOW-WOW!"
A PRETTY LITTLE SONG FOR PETTISH LITTLE EMPERORS. (_Latest Teutonic Version of Mr. Joseph Tabrar's Popular Song._)
REICHSTAG
[The German Emperor is reported to have said, "It was impossible for me to anticipate the rejection of the Army Bills, so fully did I rely upon the patriotism of the Imperial Diet to accept them unreservedly. A patriotic minority has been unable to prevail against the majority.... I was compelled to resort to a dissolution, and I look forward to the acceptance of the Bills by the new Reichstag. Should this expectation be again disappointed, I am determined to use every means in my power to achieve my purpose."--_The Times._]
_Wilful Wilhelm sings_:--
You ask me why I do not smile; the reason you shall know; I had a disappointment huge a day or two ago; I asked my venerable Nurse to give me no more toys, But just a little Dog of War to bite the other boys. _Spoken._ But oh! _Audience_ (_of Generals and Staff Officers_). What? Nana wouldn't give me that bow-wow Wow-wow! The Reichstag wouldn't grant me that bow-wow! Wow-wow! No; she denied me--flat. Now, what do you think of _that_? And I'd set my mind on that bow-wow-wow! Wow-wow-wow!
Some years ago she did the same, the greedy bad old girl! But I've set my mind upon that dog, sharp teeth and coat a-curl. The other boys have got such tykes, and I should be a mug, If when they run to mastiffs I'm put off with a small pug. _Audience._ Well? _Spoken._ Well, I mean to make her give me that bow-wow! Wow-wow! I'll worry her until she buys that bow-wow! Wow-wow! I'll dissolve the Imperial Diet, And I never _will_ be quiet Until I get that bow-wow-wow! Wow-wow-wow!
I always meant when I grew old to do just as I pleased, I'd have a dozen bow-wows then, and if the old Trot teased I'd shut her up, and everyone who backed her, like a shot; For no one who opposes Me _can_ be a pat-ri-ot! _Audience_. Why? _Spoken_. Because France has got ahead with _her_ bow-wow! Wow-wow! Russia makes me jealous with _her_ bow-wow! Wow-wow! And now it is _my_ turn To leave them well astern, And I _can't_ without that bow-wow-wow! Wow-wow-wow!
I didn't shake old BIZZY off to take CAPRIVI up, To let my old Nurse thwart me in my longing for this pup. 'Tis true that I have other tykes, a pack of 'em indeed-- But what of that? I want one more, of this particular breed. _Audience._ Well? _Spoken._ Well, I will, whatever happens, have this bow-wow! Wow-wow! I'll have it very soon, if not just now-now! Wow-wow! My purpose I'll achieve, And the Reichstag never leave Until I get possession of that bow-wow-wow! Wow-wow-wow!
* * * * *
A QUESTION OF TITLE.--A recent speech by Mr. LOCKWOOD, Q.C., M.P., on the Art of Cross-Examination has been called "deliciously frank." Henceforth, the genial Recorder of York is to be known as Mr. DELICIOUSLY FRANK LOCKWOOD.
* * * * *
A SOVEREIGN MAXIM.
He who risks the answer Nay, When he asks he shall have MAY.
* * * * *
* * * * *
IN SHEFFIELD PARK.
MONDAY, MAY 5, 1893.
_First Match of the Australian Cricketers against Lord Sheffield's English Eleven._
In Sheffield Park, in budding May! True English scene, true cricket day, A generous host, and glorious play! A date to mark! A well-fought match, the Cornstalks' first! A summer sun, a noble thirst! The Season's on us with a burst, In Sheffield Park!
The wondrous veteran W. G., At forty-five scores sixty-three! (At sixty-three GRACE may we see Score forty-five!) Pleasant once more to have a peep At those sharp eyes that never sleep, Those bear's-paws that know how to keep The game alive!
Safe SHREWSBURY and giant GUNN At it once more! Oh Lords, what fun To see them drive, and cut, and run! A May-day lark For elderly and paunchy lads! Ah, Time his annual inches adds. _We_ cannot buckle on the pads In Sheffield Park!
Yet genuine pleasure still 'twill yield To sit and watch, with noses peeled, CONINGHAM smite and GREGORY field. How's that, Sir! Hark! Thanks to GRACE, SHREWSBURY, and GUNN, LOCKWOOD and BRIGGS--what glorious fun!-- The first big match we've neatly won In Sheffield Park!
Now for a wet after our roast! Lords no, there is no call to boast! But in Lord SHEFFIELD _what_ a host Cricketers mark! Who will forget that lovely day, 'Midst lovely scenery in mid-May, Who had the luck to watch the play In Sheffield Park!
* * * * *
(EXETER) HALL RIGHT.--It is reported on the highest authority that Prince GEORGE has been recently engaged in May Meetings, and has expressed himself as having been extremely charmed and interested.
* * * * *
MORE POWER TO MISS COBBE!
"You say that you've a sovereign way To end the placard pest; Oh, Mistress COBBE, reveal it, pray, And give my spirit rest!"
"You're very green, that may be seen," Th' aggressive dame did shout; "The way to kill a noxious Bill Is--just to throw it out.
"Mid hills, in towns,--that's not so bad,-- And in the quiet lane, We let the advertising cad Tyrannically reign.
"So in my walks I take a brush, Also a watering-can, And on the hideous foe I rush, And that's _my_ little plan!
"Without compunction, without haste, Though passers-by may stare, I strip the paper from its paste, And leave the fragments there."
"_That_ plan," I said, "I've never tried; It shows, no doubt, devotion; But is it legal?" She replied, "_I've not the slightest notion!_"
* * * * *
WAITING FOR THE PROCESSIONS.
(_A Reminiscence of the Opening of the Imperial Institute._)
SCENE--_The Hyde Park South Road, opposite the Cavalry Barracks. Closely-packed ranks of Sightseers have formed in front of the long line of unharnessed carriages under the trees. Outside this line the feebler folk, who invariably come on such occasions, and never find the courage to trust themselves in the crowd, are wistfully wandering, in the hope of procuring a place by some miraculous interposition._
_Lament of Feeble Females._ I _told_ you how it would be--not the _slightest_ use staying here!... _I_ can't see anything except a lamp-post and the top of a soldier's bearskin!... We might _just_ as well have stopped at home! (_Viciously._) Where all the people _come_ from, _I_ don't know! I'm sure we were here early _enough_!
_Comments by Feeble Males._ No--not much to be seen where we are, certainly, but--um--I don't know that we're likely to do better anywhere else.... Not the least good attempting to get in _there_. Well, we can _try_ lower down, of course, but it'll be just the same. They ought to arrange these things better!
[_They drift on discontentedly._
_The Self-Helper_ (_squeezing between the wheels, and elbowing himself past the people who have been standing patiently there for hours_). By your leave--'ere, just allow me to pass, please. Thenk you. One moment, Mum. "No right to push in 'ere," 'aven't I? I've as much right as what _you_ 'ave. Think the ole Park b'longs to _you_, I suppose? You orter 'ave a space roped in a-purpose for you, _you_ ought! Tork about selfishness!
[_He arrives triumphantly in the foremost row, and obtains the tolerance, if not the sympathy, of all who are not near enough to be inconvenienced by his presence._
_Contented People in the Crowd._ Oh, we shall do well enough 'ere. They'll put their sunshades down when the QUEEN passes ... I can ketch a view between the 'eads like. And you don't get the sun under the trees ... Sha'n't have much longer to wait _now_. She'll be starting in another arf hour--(&c., &c.)
_A Lady in a Landau_ (_to her husband_). I don't think we _could_ have done better, Horace--we shall see everything; and it's quite amusing to be close to the crowd, and hear their remarks--_much_ nicer than being in one of the Stands!
[_Her self-congratulations are cut short by the arrival of three Humorous Artisans, who have taken a day off, and are in the highest animal spirits._
_Joe_ (_first Humorous Artisan_). You shove in first, BILL--push along, JOE; there's room for three little 'uns! Don't you mind about _me_--I'll git up 'ere, and see over your 'eds. [_He mounts on one of the front wheels of the landau, and holds on by the lamp._) I can see proper where _I_ am. There's a lady fainted down there!
_Bill_ (_the leading Buffoon of the Party_). I wonder if she's got any money. If she 'as, I'll go and 'elp 'er!
_Joe._ She's all right now. The ambulance 'as come up--they're standin' 'er on 'er 'ed!
_The Lady in the Landau_ (_in an undertone_). HORACE, we can't have this horrible man here--do make him get down!
_Horace_ (_to Joe_). Here, I say, my friend, don't you think you'd be more comfortable somewhere else?--that wheel is--er--not exactly the place----
_Joe._ No offence, Guv'nor. Yer see, I ain't brought out _my_ brawm to-day, 'cos I'm 'avin' it varnished, and----
_Bill._ Why, don't yer _see_, JOE?--the lady's put 'er 'usband up to invitin' you on the box-seat of 'er kerridge!--it all comes o' bein so good lookin'--but take care what yer about, or your missus may come by and ketch yer--which'll be unpleasant for all parties!
_Joe_ (_to the owner of the Landau, with easy affability_). It's very 'orspitable of you and your good lady, Mister, but I'm very well where I am--if I _should_ want to set down later on, I'll tell yer. (_To_ BILL.) I can't think what they all _see_ in me. _I_ don't encourage 'em!
_The Lady_ (_in a rapid whisper_). No, HORACE, for goodness sake _don't_--you'll only make them worse--we must put up with it. (_They do._)
_Bill_ (_affecting to recognise an imaginary friend across the road_). 'Ullo, if there ain't little ALEXANDER! I knoo _'e'd_ be 'ere. What cher, ALEC, ole pal?
_Joe_ (_playing up to him_). Ah, and there goes JACK GAYNER! You can spot 'im anywhere by 'is eye-glass.
_Bill._ That's ole JACK all over, that is. 'E wouldn't come out--not on a day like this--without a _eyeglass_, JACK wouldn't. If it 'ad ha' bin a Saturday now, 'e'd ha' 'ad _two_, to see 'is way 'ome by. (_A gorgeous official passes on horseback._) There y'ar--there's DAN LENO. Way oh, DANNY!
_Dick._ It's time 'Er Most Gracious come along, if she's goin' to keep 'er character. If she don't make 'aste, I shan't 'ave time to get 'alf a pint afore I go 'ome!
_Bill_ (_sentimentally_). Ah, if she on'y knoo the anxious arts she's causin'! 'Ullo, see that bloke tryin' to climb up on the wall there? If I was one o' them sojers, I'd draw my sword and do a noble deed against _'im_, I would. He wouldn't want to set down on no wall arter _I'd_ done with him!
[_By this time the two have secured a delighted audience--of which they are fully conscious._
_Joe._ Time 's very near up. 'ER MAJESTY ain't 'urryin 'erself.
_Bill_ (_magnanimously_). Never mind. Now I _am_ 'ere, I'll stop _'Er_ time. I shouldn't like 'Er to feel that there was somethink wantin' to the success of the perceedins. They say Royalty never forgets a face!
_Joe_ (_with the candour of intimacy_). She won't see enough o' yours to _forgit_, ole feller--you ain't used _much_ o' Pears' Soap this mornin', you ain't!
_Bill_ (_in nowise pained by this personality--which is only too well founded_). Ah, it 'ud take "Monkey Brand" and Fuller's Earth to git it all orf o' _me_! (_There is a stir in the crowd; a Mounted Police-sergeant trots past_). There's somethink up _now_. They're comin'. I _will_ 'oller when the QUEEN passes. She's costed me a deal already, but she ain't got _all_ the money. I got three 'apence of it in my pocket--though, come to think of it, three 'apence laid out in pots o' four ale among three with thusts for thirty and loyalty laid on 'ot _and_ cold all over the premises--why, it don't go so bloomin' fur, and don't you forgit it!
_Dick._ 'Ere come the Life Guards! smart lookin' lot o' chaps, ain't they?
_Bill_ (_philosophically_). Ah, and when they done their time, them fellers 'll be glad to turn to plarsterin' or wood-choppin'--anythink to gain their liveli'ood by. There's the Royalties. I can see the people wavin' their 'ankerchiefs--them that's got em. _I_ want to wave somethink--'ere, lend me your bacco-pipe, will yer.
[_An open carriaqe passes, containing personages in uniform._
_Dick._ 'Oo'll _that_ lot be?
_Bill._ Why, that's the Markiss o' BRICKDUST--don't yer know _'im_? And the one in front is the Dook o' DRIPPIN'. Look at 'im a larfin. Ain't 'e a gay ole chicking? 'Ere's some more o' them.
_The Crowd._ That is the Dook o' CAMBRIDGE. No, it ain't--that was 'im in the fust kerridge. Go on--that was the EDINGBOROS!... Why, I tell yer, I see 'is white whiskers! There's the Princess MAY! Which? 'Ooray! Lor, it's no good 'oorayin' _now_--she's gone by long ago. Well, I _am_ glad I 've seen 'er, any'ow! Who are them in the white 'elmets? Ostralians, I fancy. No, they ain't--they're Canadians. Then who is it in the fancy dress, with slouch 'ats an' feathers on? Forriners o' _some_ sort. Ain't them Indians dressed up fine? Here come the creams. _Now_ we shall see 'Er!
_Bill_ (_with enthusiasm_). Brayvo! SANGER'S ain't in it! 'Ooray, 'ooray! Lor, I could do with a ap'ny ice! Did yer see 'Er, Joe? I caught 'Er Royal eye, I did. She didn't bow--'cos we ain't on those terms--but she tipped me a wink, ser much as to say, "'Ullo, BILL, ole feller, 'ow is it you ain't in the Institoot?" _Quite_ forgittin' she never sent me no ticket. But there, I dessay she's _lots_ to think about!
_Joe_ (_to the occupants of the Landau_). You'll excuse me leavin' yer for a bit, just to git a drink, won't yer? I'll be back in time to see 'em return--if yer won't mind keepin' my place.
[_Exit, leaving them glaring in speechless indignation._
_The Crowd_ (_breaking up_). Oh, I see it beautiful! She _did_ look pleased, didn't she? I didn't notice partickler. I was lookin' at the Percession.... Come along, that's all there is to be seen.... Where's that silly ole man got to? I told 'im to be 'ere under this tree; he wants more lookin' after than any--oh, _'ere_ you are! Well, you should ha' kept along with us, and you'd ha' seen well enough! It _was_ a pity our leavin' the whisky at 'ome--'tain't _often_ I come out without it--and on a warm day like this, a drop 'ud ha' done us _all_ good!