Volume 105, September 23rd 1893

_edited by Sir Francis Burnand_

* * * * *

"PAINLESS DENTISTRY."

(_A Story for the Long Vacation._)

Although professional engagements (not wholly unconnected with the holding of high judicial office in the Tropics) have recently prevented me from contributing to the paper which specially represents Bench and Bar, I have never lost sight of the fact that when I have a duty to perform, the pages of _Punch_ are open to me. Under these circumstances I find myself once again writing to the familiar address, and signing myself, as of yore, with the old name, and the ancient head-quarters. I must confess that although I date this communication from Pump-Handle Court, I am, as a matter of fact, staying at Callerherring, a health resort greatly patronised by all patients of that eminent doctor Sir PETER TWITWILLOW.

It is unnecessary to describe a place so well known to all lovers of the picturesque. I may hint that the far-famed view of twelve Scotch, Irish, and Welsh counties, and the Channel and the Atlantic Ocean, can still be enjoyed by those who ascend Mount MacHaggis, and that the _table-d'hôte_ at the Royal Hibernian Hotel yet costs, with its seven courses, five-and-sixpence. And now to perform my duty.

My son, GEORGE LEWIS BOLTON ROLLIT (he is christened after some professional friends of mine, in the hope that at some distant date he may be assisted by them in the characters of good fairy godfathers in the profession to which it is hoped he may ornamentally belong), is extremely partial to sweetstuff. He is a habitual glutton of a sticky comestible known, I believe, in the confectionery trade as "Chicago Honey Shells." This toothsome (I have his word for the appropriateness of the epithet) edible he devours in large quantities, spending at times as much as five shillings to secure an ample store of an article of commerce generally bought in quantities estimated at the usually convenient rate of "two ounces for three halfpence."

It was after a long gastronomic debauch connected with Chicago Honey Shells that I noticed that GEORGE LEWIS BOLTON ROLLIT was suffering from a swollen face. My son, although evidently in great pain, declared that there was nothing the matter with him. However, as for three successive days he took only two helpings of meat and refused his pudding, I, in consultation with his mother, came to the conclusion that it was necessary to seek the advice of a local medical man. GEORGE LEWIS BOLTON ROLLIT raised objections to this course, but they were overruled.

"No, Sir, the doctor is not in. He's out for the day."

Such was the answer to my question put twice at the doors of two medical-looking houses with brass plates to match. On the second occasion I expressed so much annoyance that the servant quite sympathised with me.

"Perhaps Master SAMMY might do, Sir?" suggested the kind-hearted janitor.

On finding that "Master SAMMY" was a nephew of the owner of the house and a qualified medical man, I consented, and "Master SAMMY" was sent for. There was some little delay in his appearance, as, although the morning was fairly well advanced, he was not up. However, after making a possibly hasty toilette, he soon appeared. No doubt he was much older, but he looked about eighteen. He was very pleasant, and listened to my history of the case. He seemed, so it appeared to me, to recognise the Chicago Honey Shells as old acquaintances. It may have been my fancy, but I think he smacked his lips when I suggested that GEORGE LEWIS BOLTON ROLLIT had probably eaten five shillings' worth at a sitting.

"You see," I said, "he has had a bad face ever since; and as our dentist in town told us about a fortnight ago that sooner or later he must have a tooth out, I think this must be the one to which he referred. Won't you see?"

When, after some persuasion, GEORGE LEWIS BOLTON ROLLIT had been induced to open his mouth, "Master SAMMY" did see.

"Yes," observed the budding doctor, after he had looked into my lad's mouth as if it were a sort of curiosity from India that he was regarding for the first time, "yes, I think it ought to come out."

And armed with this opinion I asked my medical friend if he knew any one in Callerherring capable of performing the operation.

"Well, yes," he replied, after some consideration; "there's a nice little dentist round the corner. He's called Mr. LEO ARMSTRONG."

Then "Master SAMMY" smiled, and I felt sure that he and "the nice little dentist" must have quite recently been playing marbles together. Next came the question of the fee. "Master SAMMY" was disinclined to accept anything, evidently taking a low estimate of the value of his professional services. However, he ultimately said "Three-and-sixpence," and got the money. I would willingly have increased it to a crown had I not feared that the moment my back was turned "Master SAMMY" would have followed the example of GEORGE LEWIS BOLTON ROLLIT, and himself indulged in five shillings' worth of Chicago Honey Shells.

Mr. LEO ARMSTRONG lived in a rather fine-looking house, ornamented with an aged brass plate, suggesting that he had been established for very many years. A buttons opened the door, and, on my inquiring as to whether Mr. LEO ARMSTRONG was at home, promptly answered "Yes."

From the venerable appearance of the brass plate I had expected to see a rather elderly dentist, with possibly white hair and certainly spectacles; so I was rather taken aback when a dapper young fellow, who seemed about the age of "Master SAMMY," entered the waiting-room. The juvenile new-comer made himself master of the situation. He seized upon the jaw of poor trembling GEORGE LEWIS BOLTON ROLLIT, and declared that "it must come out."

"He'd better have gas," he observed. "But as I am full of engagements this morning, you really must let me fix a time."

Then he took out a pocket-book which I could not help noticing contained such items as "Soda-water--3_s._," "Washing--5_s._," and "Church collection--6_d._," and placed our name and time amidst the other entries.

We kept our appointment. The buttons was in a state of excitement. Mr. LEO ARMSTRONG received us, and pointed to the gas apparatus with an air of triumph, as if he had had some difficulty in getting it entrusted to him in consequence of his youth. Then "Master SAMMY" made his appearance. He was going to administer the gas. It was a pleasant family party, and I felt quite parental. Had it not been for poor GEORGE LEWIS BOLTON ROLLIT'S swollen face, I should have said to Mr. LEO ARMSTRONG, "Master SAMMY," my boy, and the buttons, "Here, lads, let us make a day of it. I will take you all to Madame TUSSAUD'S and the Zoological Gardens."

"You have had the gas, haven't you?" said "Master SAMMY," who had been fumbling with the apparatus. "How do you put it on?"

Poor GEORGE LEWIS BOLTON ROLLIT, under protest, described the _modus operandi_. Then the mouth was opened, and "Master SAMMY" applied the gas. I am sorry to say he performed the operation rather clumsily, and my poor lad never "went off." GEORGE LEWIS BOLTON ROLLIT subsequently described every detail of the performance, and said that he had suffered excruciating pain. Then Mr. LEO ARMSTRONG went to work, and, after several struggles, got out a bit of tooth, and then another. Then GEORGE LEWIS BOLTON ROLLIT came to himself, and the usual comforts were supplied to him.

"I think there's a bit of the tooth still in the gum," said Mr. LEO ARMSTRONG; and then, after a pause, with the air of Jack Horner pulling out a plum, he produced an immense pair of forceps from the instrument drawer. "There." he added, triumphantly, as he exhibited another piece of ivory, "I told you so!"

GEORGE LEWIS BOLTON ROLLIT had now sufficiently recovered to complain bitterly of the pain he had suffered.

"Impossible," I observed; "remember this is _painless_ dentistry."

I had not intended the remark as a witticism, but rather as a solace to the sufferer. Still, "Master SAMMY" and Mr. LEO ARMSTRONG accepted it as first-class waggery, and indulged in roars of laughter. Then the former took his departure. I found that I was indebted to the latter to the extent of 15_s._ 6_d._ I don't know how my dentist had arrived at the sum, but he said it with such determination that I could only offer a sovereign and receive the change.

"I want my tooth," said GEORGE LEWIS BOLTON ROLLIT, who is of an affectionate nature. "I want to give it to Mother."

Then Mr. LEO ARMSTRONG interposed. He desired to keep the tooth (in several pieces) himself. I understood him to say that he regarded it as a memorial of an initial victory--his first extraction.

"Dear me!" I exclaimed. "Why I thought you had been established at least twenty years, Mr. LEO ARMSTRONG."

"Well, to tell the truth," was the reply, "I am not Mr. LEO ARMSTRONG. He's away for the day, and I am taking his place!"

Then GEORGE LEWIS BOLTON ROLLIT and I bowed ourselves out. As I left the premises I fancied I heard the click of marbles. No doubt "Master SAMMY" and "Mr. LEO ARMSTRONG" had resumed the game our visit had interrupted. I was relieved to find myself safe from a fall caused perchance by one of their runaway hoops.

And now to perform my duty. I need scarcely say that it is to add my recommendation to that of Sir PETER TWITWILLOW anent Callerherring. You should not fail to visit the place, especially if you have a son suffering from "a raging tooth," that "must come out."

(_Signed_)

A. BRIEFLESS, JUNIOR.

_Pump-Handle Court, Temple, September, 1893._

* * * * *

THE THREE JOVIAL HUNTSMEN.

(_Latest Parliamentary Version._)

It's of three jovial huntsmen, an' a hunting they did go; An' they hunted, an' they hollo'd, an' they blew their horns also. Look ye there! An' one said, "Mind yo'r 'ayes,' and keep yo'r 'noes' well down th' wind, An' then, by scent or seet, we'll leet on summat to our mind." Look ye there!

They hunted, an' they hollo'd, an' the first thing they did find Was a tatter't boggart, in a field, an' that they left behind. Look ye there! One said it was a scarecrow, an' another he said "Nay; It's just the British Farmer, an' he seems in a bad way." Look ye there!

They hunted, an' they hollo'd, an' the next thing they did find Was a gruntin', grindin' grindlestone, an' that they left behind. Look ye there! One said it was a grindlestone, another he said "Nay; It's just th' owd Labour Question, which is always in the way." Look ye there!

They hunted, an' they hollo'd, an' the next thing they did find Was a bull-calf in a pinfold, an' that too they left behind. Look ye there! One said it was a bull-calf, an' another he said "Nay; It is just a Rural Voter who has lately learned to bray." Look ye there!

They hunted, an' they hollo'd, an' the next thing they did find Was a two-three children leaving school, an' these they left behind. Look ye there! One said that they were children, but another he said "Nay; They're Denominational-divvels, who want freedom _plus_ State-pay." Look ye there!

They hunted, an' they hollo'd, and the next thing they did find Was two street-spouters and a crowd, an' these they left behind. Look ye there! One said they were street-spouters, but another he said, "Nay; They're just teetotal lunatics who on Veto want their say." Look ye there!

They hunted an' they hollo'd, an' the next thing they did find Was a dead sheep hanging by it's heels, an' that they left behind. Look ye there! One said it was Welsh Mutton, but another he said, "Nay; It's the ghost of a Suspensory Bill; we'd better get away!" Look ye there!

They hunted, an' they hollo'd, an' the next thing they did find Was a fat pig boltin' thro' a hedge, an' _that_ they left behind. Look ye there! One said it was an Irish hog, but another he said "Nay; It's our plump, pet Home-Rule porker, which the Lords have driven away!" Look ye there!

So they hunted, an' they hollo'd, till the setting of the sun; An' they'd nought to bring away at last, when th' huntin'-day was done. Look ye there! Then one unto the other said, "This huntin' doesn't pay; But we've powler 't up an' down a bit, an' had a rattlin' day." Look ye there!

* * * * *

* * * * *

QUEER QUERIES.

PARSON AND PREMIER.--I see that a person who is called "the Episcopal Vicar of Blairgowrie" said that he would decline to shake hands with the PRIME MINISTER, in the utterly improbable event of the PRIME MINISTER wishing to shake hands with _him_. May I inquire how there can be a "Vicar of Blairgowrie" at all? Is not the Established Church in Scotland the Presbyterian one? I know that they have "Lord Rectors" up north, and so perhaps there are Rectors as well, but I never heard of a Lord Vicar. "The Lord Vicar of Blairgowrie" would sound rather well. But what would his Lord Bishop say? Can any genuine Scotchman kindly assist me in unravelling this puzzle?--SOUTHRON BODY.

OUR AUXILIARIES.--When are we likely to have a Minister of War who will do _real justice_ to Officers of the Volunteers? I may say that I am thinking of becoming an Officer myself, and I fancy that the following inducements would be likely to bring in a fresh supply of these deserving men:--(1) Exemption from Taxes. (2) Ditto from Rates, and Serving on Juries. (3) More gold braid everywhere. (4) A Volunteer Captain to rank equal to a Lieutenant-General, and a Major of Volunteers equal to the Commander-in-Chief. (5) Retiring pension, and not less than six medals or decorations, after half a year's service. Do you think that there would be much good in my writing to Mr. CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN and suggesting this?--MODEST MERIT.

* * * * *

UNDER THE ROSE.

(_A Story in Scenes._)