Part 1

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 108. JUNE 8, 1895.

ROBERT ON THE TEMS.

Me and sum of the Gents of the Lundon County Counsel, as they calls theirselves, has had sum considerable differences of opinion lately, but I don't suppose as it will cum to much. It seems as sum on em has got theirselves elected into the Tems Conserwancy Gents, and nothink as is dun quite sattisfys em unless they has the best places on bord the crack steamers as takes em either up the River or Down the River, as the case may be. In course they all wants the werry best heatables and drinkables, and plenty on em; but if the water appens to be jest a little ruff, the one thing as they all scrambles for is plenty to heat and plenty to drink, and a nice quiet seat in the Saloon all the way home.

I herd tell the other day as how as some of the Tems Conserwancy Gents had a reglar quarrel with sum of the County Counsel Gents, all becoz of the diffrence that sum on em wants to make in the way in which things is conducted on bord when agoing on their way home. It most suttenly must make a great diffrence weather it is a nice, brillyant, sunny day, and all happy on bord, or weather it is a dull, dark, rainy day, and not room enuff for harf the cumpany.

I don't find as how as the too partys in the Corporation agrees with one another more than they used to when they used to quarrel so much about everythink. In fack they seems jist as much opposed to each other as ever, and I, for my part, most truly hopes as how as they will continue in the same noble spirit, and then they will hate each other with the same cordial hatred as so distinguished them in days gone by.

I don't know a greater treat myself than spending a nour or too with the County Counsellers at Charing Cross. They can lay the stingers about in splendid style, and both sides of the question, much alike in force, and werry much alike in quolity. But the werry finist sight of all I shoud think wood be to see a thorowly good set to between a picked set of the Tems Conserwancy and another of the County Counsellers. From what I hears of the former I shoud think their chance would be grand indeed, and from what I have herd of their reckless perseverance I should think their loss almost incredible. The Tems is the river for me, and long may it remain so!

ROBERT.

* * * * *

ROUNDABOUT READINGS.

Terrible things have been happening in Newcastle. If any one doubts this statement, let him read the following extract from one of the local papers. "Though it is a good while," observes a leader-writer, "since it could be said with justice that the trade of the country was advancing by leaps and bounds, the observation may with absolute accuracy be made with respect to our Newcastle rates. They have stolen along with woollen feet, and are now about to strike with iron hands."

* * *

I bow to the ground in awe-struck admiration before this picture of rates stealing along on woollen feet and raising iron hands for a deadly blow at the unfortunate ratepayers of Newcastle. There is something fell and savage in the mere contemplation of it. Prose is quite inadequate to it; it demands rhyme, and must have it:--

Consider Newcastle, its pitiful case, Where the rates have a habit of stealing. 'Tis a way they are prone to in many a place, And they do it without any feeling.

They move without noise, and they thus get the pull, Like a cab with a new rubber tyre on; For their feet, it is said, are a compound of wool, Though the hands that they strike with are iron.

The vision appals me, one glimpse is enough; With terror my bosom is heaving. Yet I venture the hint--do not treat it as stuff-- That steel were more suited for thieving.

* * *

Something always appears to be wrong with the streets of Bristol. I had to notice the melancholy case of Christmas Street last week. The epidemic has now extended to Old Market Street. Here the pitching is so dangerous that horses fall and break their legs, and ladies die from falls on Easter Mondays. A correspondent who calls attention to this matter says that "it is quite annoying on a busy day to have to ask customers two, three, or even four times what they require." I scarcely see what this has to do with the pavement, but personally I have always found it more than annoying to be asked four times as much as I require, even when my requirements are small, as they usually are. It is gratifying to find that, in Old Market Street, at any rate, the shopkeeper who asks has an equal share of annoyance.

* * *

Then again, Conduit Place, Lower Ashley Road, is not only badly lighted, but its name is practically unknown. "Even shopkeepers in the neighbourhood and policemen on the beat do not seem to know of it, and sometimes lead people astray in consequence." This, however, is not to be wondered at, as "another difficulty is the numbering of the houses; although only about thirty in the road, they are divided into five terraces with different sets of numbers, which causes endless confusion."

* * *

Increase not, wanderer, the policeman's load; Ask not the site of Lower Ashley Road. Inquire not eagerly for Conduit Place, But start unasking on thy terraced chase. These places to policemen are unknown, So shall the pride of finding be thine own. Go forth, go forth, itinerary pundit, And find the place that takes its name from Conduit. Thy journey, after many a turn and twist'll Land thee at Lower Ashley Road in Bristol. Then pause, and, having raised a thankful voice, Take 'midst five terraces thy doubtful choice; And, envied by policemen on their beats, Return, a lexicon of Bristol streets.

* * *

But the badness of the streets and the ignorance of policemen as to their whereabout is nothing to the annoyance caused by the Salvation Army bands near St. Clement's Church in Newfoundland Road. "On Ascension Day," the Vicar writes, "our service was completely stopped for several minutes, as the preacher, who had a bad cold, was unable to shout above the din of the passing drum." I shudder to imagine what would have been the plight of the congregation if the preacher had been free from cold, and capable of shouting down a drum.

* * *

Rowing and cricket are more closely connected than many people suppose. In an account of the Oxford eight-oared bumping races, I read that "New College started at a tremendous bat." This of course accounts for the bawling on the bank by which these races are always accompanied. Further on it is stated that "New College finished at 40, all out"--which seems rather a small score.

* * *

I commend the brevity of the Mayor of Cambridge, Mr. HYDE HILLS, who, being obviously above Hyde Park, does not condescend to the verbosity of the spouters who on Sundays congregate in that locality. The other day Mr. HYDE HILLS was elected to be an Alderman, and all he said was, "I thank you." This is _optimi exempli_, especially for Aldermen.

* * *

Lately I came across the following touching appeal of an impecunious son to his father:--

Sir,--I have piles of bills, Regular miles of bills; My banking account's in a hash. All on the debtor side, Nought on the better side; The balance you'd hardly call "cash."

'Tis terrible when you're reduced thus to penury, Even if _that's_ nothing new. Hope! Can I dream of it? Yes, there's a gleam of it; My quarter's allowance is due!

* * *

At the Bigg Market in Newcastle was recently held what a local paper describes as "a demnostration in favour of temperance reform." "Demnostration" is a delightful word. It seems to express in the most compact form enthusiasm and strong language.

* * * * *

A QUESTION OF POLICE.--A few days since Liverpool set another lesson to London. No doubt with the consent of the Liverpudlians (inclusive of "the dangerous classes"), the local police force had a grand field-day. To quote our excellent contemporary, the _Courier_, "those who witnessed the police's steady march through the streets in three battalions, and their effectively-performed manoeuvres in Sefton Park, would hardly realise what the turn-out meant to most of the men. They were on duty through the night, and had very little rest before they had to parade for inspection (with the march-out and review), and the weather being warm, the display involved fatigue, so that the refreshments provided were very welcome." Yes, and no doubt well deserved. But why should London wait? Why should not we have something of the same kind? We might have a grand Police Review in Hyde Park. All that would be necessary would be to arrange that the metropolitan thieves should keep the ground!

* * *

PROVERBIAL PARLIAMENTARY ECONOMY, OR SHORT COMMONS FOR UPPER HOUSE.--Don't spare the Black Rod, and then you won't have to spoil the Upper-Housemaid.

* * * * *

* * * * *

* * * * *

NOTES FROM A PATIENT'S DIARY.

["Music is a serious therapeutic agent, which exercises a genuine and considerable influence over bodily functions."--_The Lancet._]

_Monday._--Feel rather out of sorts, slight touch of influenza, I fancy. Send round for Doctor. He shakes his head gravely, and produces stethoscope. I protest that there's nothing wrong with my lungs, and this is, therefore, unnecessary. But he explains that he treats all his patients by music nowadays; supposed stethoscope turns out to be a cornet, on which he performs selections from _Il Trovatore_ for my benefit. Asks me if I feel better, and in order to get rid of him I pretend that I do. Later on in the day a small musical-box arrives, labelled "to be taken twice a day." Find it only plays one tune out of _Rigoletto_. Pitch it out of window.

_Tuesday._--No better. Consult another doctor, who's just taken his degree (in music) at Oxford, and is supposed to be very clever. He feels my pulse, and looks solemn. Then he asks if I've been giving way to Italian opera lately, and appears coldly sceptical when I explain that I have been taking it by medical advice. Prescribes essence of WAGNER, to be taken at short intervals. Begin by attending a RICHTER concert. Dr. RICHTER'S practice is said to be enormous, and every part of St. James's Hall is thronged by his patients.

_Wednesday._--Better. Receive a large number of patent medicine circulars--this kind of thing: "Try our Indigestion Waltzes! Warranted to cure. All headache, giddiness and faintness removed at first time of hearing." Here's another: "Dentists superseded! All sufferers from Toothache should attend Herr BOSKOWSKY'S course of Dental Piano Recitals. Worth a guinea a stall." I also learn that the Hirsutine Symphony cures baldness, and that the Pink Bavarian Band may be engaged to play "Slumber-Songs" to sufferers from insomnia.

_Thursday._--Am aroused by five barrel-organs performing simultaneously under my next-door neighbour's window. Send a note round suggesting they should be dispersed. Answer "Sorry to cause annoyance, but our youngest child is suffering from chickenpox, and has been ordered street-music every three hours." Go out to buy an air-gun. Later in the day, happening to take up the _Lancet_ at the Club, I find in it a long article on "The treatment of pleurisy by BEETHOVEN'S Fifth Symphony in C Minor."

_Friday._--Two seedy-looking men suddenly appear in the drawing-room after dinner to-night. Discover that they are "The Brothers TITTLEBAT" from the Abracadabra Music Hall, and that my wife has engaged them, by her doctor's orders, to sing comic songs every evening for a fortnight, in order to cure the depression of spirits from which she believes herself to be suffering. "The Brothers TITTLEBAT" seem to be suffering themselves from elevation of spirits--gin, to judge by the smell; kick them out, and decide to emigrate to-morrow.

* * * * *

LA DIVA AT DALY'S.

_Gismonda_ is poor stuff. The selection was a mistake. Lucky man SARDOU to have SARA for heroine. Great is SARDOU and SARA is his profit! Splendid as ever, but genius wasted on _Gismonda_. She will be seen at her best in other dramas. Wonderful _artiste!_

Yes, _artiste jusqu'au bout des ongles_, but why give us these real good tips, painted red? If it were in English, SARA might make some joke about her fingers being "reddy" for the assassination of the villain. This explanation does not exist in French. Probably it was the fashion in the time of _Gismonda_.

Will any dramatist give SARA an entirely new part in which she will not be compelled to purr, swear (like a cat, not a trooper), scratch, shriek, tumble on settees, clutch curtains, wrestle with cushions, and so forth?

Why, on first night, revive old custom of handing up baskets of flowers, per orchestra, to the heroine of the play and the Star of the Night? Why keep the audience waiting so long between each Act? We are not in Paris, and when we have too much "song," or play, we can't get any "supper."

* * * * *

NOTE (_by our City Man_).--Excellent notion for a hot June--"the _Chili_ Loan." It will be a hot favourite: to be taken up warmly. _Mem._ Invest "cool thousand" in the Chili Loan.

* * * * *

THE SCARLET PARASOL.

SCENE III.--_The Hall. A quarter to Three in the afternoon._

_Muriel_ (_to_ ALAN, _who is just taking his hat_). Oh! _May_ I speak to you one moment, Master ROY?

_Alan._ Pray do, dear Miss VANE. I am just going for a stroll by myself--to--to develope an idea I've got.

_Muriel._ If you should happen to be going for a secret drive along the high road with VIOLA, in a dog-cart from JOHNSTONE'S, _would_ you be so kind as to give her this? (_Hands scarlet parasol._) She forgot it. And don't let her leave it anywhere. You see her initials are carved round it. And she is _always_ losing things. Please be very careful!

[_She smiles._

_Alan._ What on earth can have given you such an extraordinary idea, Miss VANE?

[_Takes parasol._

_Muriel._ Well, a sort of coach-building, livery-stable person, from JOHNSTONE'S, is engaged to JANE, the housemaid. He came to see her to-day.... She has been ill, poor thing!

_Alan._ How very distressing!

_Muriel._ VIOLA _said_ she was going to visit cottages. However, in _case_ you _should_ meet--one never knows--you'll give her the sunshade.

_Alan._ You may depend upon it, Miss VANE.

_In the Dog-cart._ ALAN _is driving very leisurely, and_ VIOLA _trying to hide under her parasol_.

_Alan._ That's a perfectly delicious hat of yours!

_Viola._ I am so glad you like it! This is a very nice dog-cart, and this is a pretty lane to drive in, so cool and green.

[_A pony-carriage passes._

_Viola_ (_starting violently_). Good heavens! There are the clergyman and his wife.

[_She bows, blushing crimson._

_Alan._ Why are you agitated, Mrs. TRAVERS? They look very gentle and harmless.

_Viola._ Gentle and harmless! If they tell ALBERT?

_Alan._ Does he disapprove of the clergy taking exercise in the open air?

_Viola_ (_pettishly_). Of course not. How absurd!

[_A silence._

_Alan._ Shall we get out presently, and sit in one of these nice fields, and make daisy-chains? There are daisies in fields, I know--though I _am_ rather urban.

_Viola._ Oh, yes; and cowslips!

_Alan._ You ought to give a cowslip-ball, Mrs. TRAVERS. It would be charming. May I come?

_Viola._ If you're old enough by then!

_Alan._ Oh, I'm never going to be old enough.

_Viola._ Really not?

_Alan_ (_candidly_). It's a great thing to have settled on one's pose, Mrs. TRAVERS; and one can't be always changing--it's so much trouble!

_In the Field._

_Viola_ (_trying to enjoy herself_). This is lovely! So cool! and the sky so--so blue!

_Alan._ You have a perfect passion for scenery! (_He picks some flowers, and gives them to her._) I have so many things I want to tell you----

_Viola._ About yourself?

_Alan._ No, about you. Things you don't know----

_Viola_ (_starting_). Oh! Is that someone we know?

_Alan._ I _hope_ you wouldn't know a man who wears such a hat as that in the country!

_Viola._ It's all right--I _don't_ know him.

[_Sits down._

_Alan_ (_trying to recover the thread_). About yourself--your eyes, for instance. Has anyone ever told you how annihilating they are?

_Viola._ I'm very glad you like them, Master ROY; but we really _must_ go now, Dr. ROBERTS will be there to tea, and they will think it odd----

_Alan_ (_ironically_). Oh, it would be terrible to miss Dr. ROBERTS--quite terrible!

[_Follows her, thinking the expedition rather a failure. As he helps her into the dog-cart, she knocks her ankle very slightly._

_Viola._ Oh! Oh! I've broken my ankle! I shan't be able to walk home! It will all be found out! Oh, _why_ did we do this!

[_She begins to cry._

_Alan_ (_to himself_). Why indeed! (_To_ VIOLA.) Poor dear child, how absolutely dreadful! But, if Dr. ROBERTS is there it will be all right. He can set it.

_Viola._ Set it! How can you talk in that heartless way! _Why_ did you make me come for this drive?

_Alan_ (_apologetically_). I really thought you seemed as if you'd like to! Come, I can't allow you to cry.

[_Tries to dry her eyes. She moves away. He drops his whip and has to get out and pick it up. They drive back very quickly and in entire silence, save for a few groans from_ VIOLA.

_Viola._ Well, I suppose I must try to hobble home. Yes, I'm a little better. Do take the horrid dog-cart away! It's an absurd one--brown and ridiculous. _Do_ I look as if I'd been crying--much?

_Alan_ (_coldly but evasively_). You look perfectly charming.

_Viola._ Oh! _take_ that buttercup out of your coat! Someone might suspect!----

_Muriel_ (_meeting_ VIOLA _at the garden gate_). Oh, VIOLA, such wonderful things have been happening! Quick--before we see anyone else. Dr. ROBERTS has been here. Well, he proposed to me! and I accepted him like a girl in a book! You see, you were out.

_Viola._ All right. Oh, MURIEL, I am so ill, and so anxious. I have such a toothache, I can hardly walk. I hurt my foot, reading to a poor woman in a cottage.

_Muriel._ Some tea will cure you. But, VIOLA, will you and ALBERT be nice about my engagement?

_Viola._ The truth is I had such a dull, wretched, idiotic drive with ALAN ROY, that I can't be nice about anything.

_Muriel._ Will you consult VALENTINE? Dr. ROBERTS, you know?

_Viola._ How can you go and get engaged to people called VALENTINE!

_At Dinner. Everyone very cheery, except_ CLAUDE MIGNON, _who looks depressed, and_ Mrs. AVERIDGE, _who is unnoticed_.

_Albert_ (_serving soup_). What _is_ that ring?

_Viola._ Oh, nothing.

_Servant._ Please, Sir, it's only JOHNSTONE has sent misses's parasol, that was left in the cart!

_Albert._ This is some mistake! You didn't drive to-day, VIOLA?

_Muriel_ (_apart to_ ALAN). Shall I betray you? (_To_ ALBERT.) The fact is Master ROY went out alone, to develop an idea; and _I_ lent him VIOLA'S parasol, because he was afraid of getting sunburnt.

[_Everyone laughs._

_Alan._ One _has_ to be so careful. Freckles run dreadfully in my family. I had them once, and a relapse is _most_ dangerous!

_After Dinner._

_Viola._ Darling MURIEL! I congratulate you and VALENTINE. VALENTINE is such a pretty name! How sweet you were! I shall never have another secret!

_Muriel._ And shall you tell ALBERT all about it?

_Viola._ Perhaps--to-morrow!

_Claude Mignon_ (_to_ ALAN). I _hate_ a house where a girl is engaged! I'm going away to-morrow.

_Alan._ So am I.

_Claude Mignon._ Rather a clumsy-looking creature--the old Doctor?

_Alan._ Oh, no! Very distinguished!

_Muriel_ (_to_ ALAN, _in a low voice_). I _told_ you not to leave the parasol.

_Alan._ You did, dear Miss VANE. It was dear of you.

_Muriel._ And did you develope your idea?

_Alan._ Well--no. Somehow, it didn't quite come off.

THE END.

* * * * *

BYE-BYE TO DAUDET.--We could not stand the presence of two lions in London; so, when NASRULLA KHAN appeared on the scene, ALPHONSE DAUDET made his exit. Our, "_Beau-bel Poète_" sends us his jingle:--

DAUDET _est parti!_ Good-bye my hearty! "_Fortiter in re, suaviter in modo,_" _Bon soir_ DAUDET! "_allez faire Dodo!_"

* * *

AN INTERREGNUM OF BRUTALITY.--The _Times_ last week announced that

"Applications for the vacant Chair of Humanity in the University of Edinburgh should be lodged not later than Saturday, June 29."

Alas! Poor Humanity! It may be news to many that the Chair of Humanity is in the possession of the Northern University. Of course a very large arm-chair, with arms to embrace all mankind. And a very easy chair. Whoever sits in it is only a Professor, and what is mere profession without practice?

* * * * *

OPERATIC NOTES.

_Tuesday._--Madame MELBA as _Juliette!_ Bless her heart, she must have had a very large one, being a decidedly fine girl for her age, which I believe was fifteen; while _Romeo_ was about nineteen, or thereabouts. Mons. ALVAREZ, it is needless to add, looked quite "thereabouts." Both singing and acting in first-rate style. _Jupiter-Plançon_, converted, appears as _Frère Laurent_, which, sounding like "Law-wrong," is a name rather descriptive of this worthy Friar's somewhat underhand proceedings _Friar Law-wrong-Plain-song_ excellent. Full house night before the Derby. If omens go for anything, the gentleman who was making a book in the lobby, and who overheard some one speak of the opera as _Rosebery and Juliette_, might have made a small fortune. The slip was a tip.

Some people say, "Why orchestra in 'well' below stage?" But Sir DRURIOLANUS, with experience of general advantage to sound and sight, says, "Shan't touch 'em. 'Leave well alone' is my motto." Exit Sir D. merrily.

_Saturday._--Strange case of _Rigoletto & Co._--"Co." being MELBA at her best, BAUERMEISTER and clever JULIA RAVOGLI, with DE LUCIA as the Gay Dook, ANCONA as the Fool, suggestive of the PAGLIACCI mummer with a court appointment. "House full." MAUREL is coming. To _Falstaff_ and _Don Giovani_ he will give a "high Maurel tone."

* * * * *

SPORT, SPECULATION, AND COUNSEL'S OPINION.

So many letters have reached me during the past week begging for my opinion upon the legality of what may be termed sporting financial speculation, that I scarcely apologise for asking the hospitality of the columns of the leading law paper to give my response. No doubt the inquiry has to some extent been fostered by the report that I was seen taking part in the hippodromatic revels of the Derby Day. It is true that I certainly visited Epsom on the occasion in question; but only in a semi-official capacity. I have the honour to be consulting assessor of the Diamond Mine Salting Syndicate, Limited, and in that desirable position have frequently attended the meetings of the directors on occasions, so to speak, outside the Board-room. It is true that my experience as one learned in the law is seldom required at such seasons, still the directors, as fiduciaries, are to be applauded for neglecting no opportunity of availing themselves of my services.