Volume 105, September 9th 1893

_edited by Sir Francis Burnand_

* * * * *

A BROWN STUDY IN AUTUMN TINTS.

(_Being a Fragment from a Matter-of-fact Romance._)

And he walked along the deserted streets and could see no one. Here and there would be a pile of stones and wooden blocks, telling of an impeded thoroughfare, but the place itself was empty. There were seemingly no inhabitants in this deserted city. They had vanished into thin, or, rather, murky air.

Then he looked at what appeared to be a playhouse. The doors were closed, and the bill-boards were pasted over with blue paper. Evidently the portals of the theatre had not been open for weeks, perchance for months.

And it was the same in the parks. Only the leaves moved, and then only when the wind agitated them. There were a few sparrows in the trees, but they seemed to be ashamed of themselves, and chirruped (so to speak) with bated breath. Oh it was indeed a scene of desolation.

And the shops, too! Many of them were closed, and those which were open seemed to be tenantless. There were no customers; no counter attendants. Trade seemed to be as dead as the proverbial door-nail.

And the hoardings too! Even they had suffered. Old posters, manifestly out of date, fluttered in tatters; it had been no one's business to restore the rotting paper, and it had gone the way of other grass. The placards were worse than useless; they could not be deciphered.

And yet again he marched on. There were exhibitions, and no one to see them; museums, and no visitors to inspect them; and churches, and no one to fill them. At length he came upon a guardian of the public peace who was lazily gazing into the sluggish river over the parapet of an embankment.

"Good sir," said he, "can you tell me if this dreadful, lonely, deserted place is the City of the Dead?"

"Go along with you!" cried the policeman, good-humouredly; "it's only London in September!"

And then he felt that he had been deceived by appearances!

* * * * *

History Repeats Itself Again.

["The alleged unemployed who assemble on Tower Hill are becoming worse even than mountebanks. One of the speakers declared yesterday that 'The secret societies of London are going to-night to wait on Mr. GLADSTONE, to ask what he is going to do. If the PRIME MINISTER does not give a definite reply, they will take him on their backs and throw him into the Thames.'"--_The Daily Telegraph, Sept. 1._]

The _genius loci_ haunts Historic Tower Hill, For, judging by their vaunts, Men lose their heads there still.

* * * * *

* * * * *

JABEZWOCKY.

["In the House of Lords a Bill strengthening the power of making Directors liable in respect of misconduct or neglect in the winding-up of Companies passed its second reading."--_Daily Paper._]

'Twas Ruin! And the Small Invest- -Ors gyred and gimbled in despair; Common as dirt were Shareholders, But assets very rare!

"Beware the Jabezwock, my Lord! The jaws that bite, the claws that dig; Beware the Hobbs-hobbs bird, and shun The saintly Guinea-pig!"

The Peer set out, his Bill in hand; He had to be extremely leary In tackling such an artful foe, Whose weapon was _Suppressio Veri_!

And as he mused o'er blighted lives, The Jabezwock, as yet unfloored, Came snuffling piously to join A meeting of its Board.

One, two! One, two! And through and through All stages passed the Bill like winking; And this is what the Peers just then Most probably were thinking:--

"And have we scotched the Jabezwock, And spoiled him of his false Prospectus! O frabjous day! What Rad will say That from this House he'd now eject us?"

'Twas Ruin ruined! And the dupes Quite chortled such a sight to see; The smug Director brought to book Near to the Dividend Tree!

* * * * *

NEW NURSERY RHYME.

(_By a Sporting M.P._)

["Official opinion will be, and indeed has been, brought to bear upon Mr. HANBURY and his small knot of obstructionists to avert an unreasonable discussion of the Estimates."--_Daily Chronicle._]

Autumn Session? Of course! Isn't HANBURY cross To see the Grand Old Man So ride the high horse? But why should _we_ linger Afar from the grouse, To help the obstructives Discredit the House?

* * * * *

BARNETT OF BRISTOL CITY.

_A Song of St. Jude's._

[The Rev. S. A. BARNETT, late Vicar of St. Jude's, Whitechapel, has been promoted to the Canonry of Bristol.]

AIR--"_Nancy of Bristol City._"

BARNETT is Canon of Bristol City! Pass the news around, my boys! To leave Whitechapel seems half a pity; Sorrow will go round, my boys! St. Jude's, and thy great Hall, Toynbee, Some right good Christians doubtless see; But they're all small shakes along o' _he!_ Pass his health around, my boys! BARNETT! BARNETT! Well did he "arn" it-- That Bristol Canonree!

And when he gets to Bristol City, Pass the cheers around, my boys! He'll draw the wise, the kind, the pretty; They _must_ gather round, my boys. The slum he sweetened in London's east, With Charity's boon, and Fine Arts' feast, Will miss this good, sage, gentle priest; Pass his health around, my boys! BARNETT! BARNETT! Your loss we'll larn it, You were the Man for _we_! _Your health, where'er you be!_

* * * * *

_NOUS_ AND NERVES.

[It is said by some of his friends that Dr. CHARCOT, lately dead, who spent a considerable part of his life in the study of neurosis, found this disease everywhere at last, especially in the naturalistic school of French writers.]

If this Neurosis, As some suppose, is The _causa causans_ of Naturalism, The spring ubiquitous Of aught iniquitous That puts 'twixt genius and sense a schism; Then must we pray For the dawn of a day When the Glorious Gift that the world so serves May cut chlorosis, And shun neurosis; In fact, that Genius may have no "nerves."

* * * * *

"READY, AYE READY!"

(_A Sailor Song Up to Date._)

[Sir EDWARD REED said that with the armoured citadel intact, and an unarmoured end destroyed, the ship is in imminent danger of upsetting. The _Victoria_ was bound to capsize with the injury she received. There were other ships that were equally bound to capsize, when they were injured in the same manner; the reason being that instead of the armed citadel being the major part of the structure, and the unarmoured ends the minor portion, we had chosen to make the unarmoured ends the major part, measuring more than half the entire length of the ship. The ships likely to capsize in a similar manner, if they received like injury in peace or in action, were the _Agamemnon_, _Ajax_, _Anson_, _Benbow_, _Camperdown_, _Collingwood_, _Colossus_, _Edinburgh_, _Howe_, _Inflexible_, _Rodney_, and _Sans Pareil_.]

AIR--"_Hearts of Oak._"

Come, cheer up, my lads! 'tis to Davy we steer! (We add to his Locker 'bout one ship per year.) To capsizing we call you in cheeriest staves, For what is so certain as death 'neath the waves? Iron coffins our ships, Death-doomed tars are our men. Our ships are unsteady! Ready, aye ready! We'll sink or turn turtle again and again!

We ne'er see our ships (for which millions they pay), The _Ajax_, the _Anson_, and such, but we say, "Will they ram, or capsize, or but run slap ashore? When we go to the bottom JOHN BULL must--build more!" Iron coffins our ships, &c.

Our _Camperdowns_, _Collingwoods_, _Rodneys_, _Benbows_, REED says are all "dangerous"--_not_ to our foes! If struck in their unarmoured ends they turn o'er, And go to the bottom! How DAVY must roar! Iron coffins our ships, &c.

The Frenchy and Rooshian must laugh as they look, And see JOHN BULL trying, by hook or by crook, To get his tin-kettles to keep right side up, Agin touch of a ram, agin tap of a Krupp! Iron coffins our ships, &c.

"Just wait two or three years," grumbles JOHN, "and _I'll_ show, _If my ships will but swim_, I can still whop the foe. Stop a bit--whilst my big-wigs build, blunder, debate!" Ah! that's all mighty fine, but, my JOHN, _will_ they wait? Iron coffins our ships, &c.

Britannia triumphant we all wish to see, Quite equal to two foreign fleets, perhaps three; So cheer up, my hearties, and banish your fears! They will build us a ship as _will_ float--in three years!

(_Meanwhile, my lads, "chorus as before," if you please, until further orders from our Naval Oracles!_)

Iron, coffins our ships, DAVY'S wictims our men; In wessels unsteady, We're ready, aye ready, To sink or turn turtle again and again!

* * * * *

* * * * *

SONNET.

(_By a Failure._)

Why Long, Strong Sigh? I _Wrong_ Song Try!

Ne'er Muse Dare Use Worse Verse!!

* * * * *

FROM COLCHESTER.--The oysters are trembling in their beds. On October 6th the Duke of CAMBRIDGE is expected to attack the natives at Colchester in full force. Last year, when Sir D. EVANS was in the chair at the banquet, 20,000 oysters were consumed! Good EVANS!!

* * * * *

A VERY ANNOYING STREAM.--The River _Tees_.

* * * * *

LETTERS FOR THE SILLY SEASON.

(_Apparently intended for some of our Contemporaries._)

SIR,--Of course I do not wish to be frivolous, but do you not think that "_lovely_," "_too sweet_," "_quite too darling_," and other expressions in italics are miss-used words? At any rate, they are constantly in the mouths of my daughters and nieces.

Yours truly, PATERFAMILIAS.

SIR,--I give a list of misused words that have occurred to me during a month on the Continent. I put the words I consider inappropriately applied in italics. Paris is _inexpensive_, Boulogne is _beautiful_, Cologne is _inodorous_, German cookery is _good_, 'ARRY on his travels is _pleasant_, garlic is _agreeable_, hotel charges in Italy are _moderate_, railway travelling in Belgium is _expeditious_, washing-basins in Swiss hotels are _large_, a rough passage across the Channel is _delightful_, and the Continent is _like_ home.

I could extend the list indefinitely, but have written enough to show how imperfect the English language really is to convey accurately one's most ordinary ideas. I may add that when I have used and not misused words, I have been told that I have no right to swear--so what _can_ I do?

Yours truly, COMMON SENSE.

SIR,--I am glad to see that there is a correspondence upon misused words. However, I can say that such words as "excellent," "admirable," "wonderful," "splendid," and "glorious," are _not_ misused when applied to ----.* Thanking you in advance,

I remain, yours truly, PUFF PUFF.

* Editorially suppressed. Applications for insertion of advertisements should be addressed to another quarter.

* * * * *

AN OLD DOGGEREL COUPLET RE-DRESSED.

[M. ZOLA is understood to have accepted an invitation to the Institute of Journalists' Conference in London.]

Fairer subject never rose our graphic pens to task all, Than the presence (and paper) amidst the Children of Letters, the new Grub Street geniuses, the Poets and Press-men and penny-a-liners, the Sages and "all the rages," the Naturalistic Novelists and New Humourists, the literary "Strong Men" and Anti-Sentimentalists, the Impressionists and Symbolists, and Stylists, and Superior Sniffers, and "Manly" Muse-hunters, and Man-despising Mugwumps, and Minor Minstrels and Minor-Minstrel-flouters, and would-be Laureates, and would-be-laureate-exterminators, and Mummer-Idolators and Mummer-Iconoclasts, and Up-to-date Oracles, and _Fin-de-siècle_ obscurantists, of the pyramidal author of _Dr. Pascal_!

* * * * *

MOTTO OF OUR MILITARY AUTHORITIES.--"Put up your Dukes!"

* * * * *

UNDER THE ROSE.

(_A Story in Scenes._)