Part 2

Which, to my Baronite, suggests the difficulty that, if the minister fans the lady with his shadowy pinions "gently," he will fail to produce anything resembling a "midnight gale"; on the other hand, if he performs the part of invisible punkah so energetically as to suggest a gale, he can hardly help awakening her unless she is a very heavy sleeper indeed--and _might_ give her a cold in the head. Surely this is rather an unfair dilemma on which to place a feathered minister of any denomination.

But after all, poetry, as my Baronite fully recognises, is not meant to be judged by so literal a standard, and it may be cheerfully conceded that there are many people who make a less profitable use of their "Leisure Time" than Mr. MAVOR has done. In which opinion concurs

THE LEISURELY BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.

* * * * *

HOP(E)FUL LIBERALISM IN KENT.--Sir ISRAEL HART of Hythe, thinks that if his friends do their work well, he may yet find in the Hytheians an Israel-light-hearted constituency. Sir ISRAEL is a _Jew d'esprit_.

* * * * *

* * * * *

FOR THE TAILORS' CONGRESS AT VERVIERS.

1. Why should it take nine tailors to make a man?

2. Ought you cut a coat according to your cloth, or according to the fashion?

3. How do you cook a tailor's goose? Should it be basted?

4. In England is the most suitable seaside resort for tailors Weskit-on-Sea, or Sheerness _sur la côte_?

5. Shall a prize be given for the best essay on the advantage of having a pair of Pantaloons on the stage in a Pantomime?

6. Is it a matter of universal complaint that a tailor should not be allowed to play billiards because he scarcely passes a day without cutting a cloth?

7. What price for the best tale of a coat?

8. Is it proved to satisfaction that SHAKSPEARE was a tailor from the fact of his having written _Measure for Measure_?

9. Whether, for the next International Yacht Race, the tailors should enter a cutter?

* * * * *

GOOD BADMINTON.--Among the contents of LONGMAN'S _Badminton Magazine_ is an article by the Markiss o' GRANBY on Grouse; SUSAN, not Black-eyed nor Rebellious, but Countess of Malmesbury, writes cleverly on her perch, and on the matter of salmon the Countess would count for a lot in any ex-salmonation. Lord ONSLOW on slow and on quick bicycling; capital. C. B. FRY, not one of the Small Fry, gives his ideal of a cricketing day, which is to be known as a "Fry-day." Then who is it writes a florid account of fishing in Florida? O'TIS MYGATT. The question of "What's on at Newmarket?" is pleasantly answered by ALFRED WATS-ON at Newmarket. On "Old Sporting Prints," PEEK writes with point. And on "The Alpine 'Distress Signal' Scheme" there is a paper by C. T. DENT, who has been, more or less, a Re-si-dent on the spot, as this in-denture witnesseth.

* * * * *

"TO THE RANK OF MAJOR-GENERAL HAVE RISEN!"--_Critic._ From a paragraph in last week's _Truth_ we extract the following:--"Another scandalous 'selection' job has just been perpetrated at the War Office. Colonel TROTTER, who has been promoted to the rank of major-general, has seen no war service, and has no professional claims whatever upon the authorities." If this information be correct, the colonel should be remembered by the distinctly Dickensian title of _"Job" Trotter_.

* * * * *

THE LAST KNIGHT OF THE SEASON.

On Monday, July 29, Sir AUGUSTUS HARRIS, bidding farewell to a typical '95 Covent Garden audience (house crowded in every part), seized the opportunity to present one of his lightning conductors with a "_bâton_ of honour." In a spontaneous speech, DRURIOLANUS declared that Signor MANCINELLI had "worked like a Trojan," and the announcement was received with sympathetic applause. Still, it was thought possible by those present that the pleasant and prosperous _impresario_ was in search of something that he had seemingly lost--"a little poem of his own." We have no hesitation in publishing the following lines, entitled _Sans Adieu_, found in the neighbourhood of the C. G. orchestra. If they are not from the pen of DRURIOLANUS, they ought to have been:--

Not farewell, my MANCINELLI! MANCINELLI, _au revoir!_ As harmonious _fratelli_ We shall meet again! _Espoir!_ Take, oh take this shining _bâton_. You're a marvel! _O, si sic!_ When you've got it, with your hat on. _En vacance_ you'll cut your stick.

You will wave it, you will wield it Always, my conductor prime, Never up again you'll yield it, Ever living to beat time! Grasp it, use it, MANCINELLI! Highest praise to you is due! With it beat Old Time to jelly, Till Conductor Time beats _you!_

* * * * *

More Honours.

Motto for Sir WILLIAM DUNN: "_Ce qu'il fait c'est bien fait._" Likewise "Just Dunn enough."

For Mr. JOHN TOMLINSON BRUNNER, M.P., a Brunneretcy.

Motto for Sir A. B. FORWOOD: "_En avant! et plus en avant que jamais._"

* * * * *

"H.M.S."--Should H.M. the King of the BELGIANS ask H. M. STANLEY, M.P., to return to Congo-land, the inquiry wired will take this simple form "_Congo?_" and the answer must be "_Can't go_." _On dit._ The H.M.'s have settled satisfactorily.

* * * * *

MEDICAL CONGRESS.--Explanation:--The "Anti-toxin" party is against the use of a dinner bell or gong. They do not agree with Lord BYRON, "The tocsin of the soul, the dinner bell."

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* * * * *

* * * * *

THE MEETING OF THE WATER-RATEPAYERS.

["The New Town Hall in Mare Street, Hackney, was altogether too small to hold the crowds who came last night (August 1) to protest against the action of the East London Water Company in cutting down the supply of water during the past few weeks."--_Evening News._]

AIR--"_The Meeting of the Waters._"

There is not in the whole land a meeting so meet As that of the ratepayers held at Mare Street. No mare's nest they'd found, no, the Hackneyite heart Was hot at the new Water Company start!

It _was_ not that Nature had stinted supply; That Monopolist pretext appears "all my eye." 'Twas _not_ summer parching of river and rill, Oh! no--it was something more troublesome still.

'Twas that greed and neglect had combined, it is clear, To make East End water deficient and dear; And Monopoly now the supply must improve, Or more than mere Mare Streets will be on the move.

Big Monopolist Mammon, how calm could you rest With your dividends high in the way you love best; But when water runs short, and diseases increase, The East End won't leave you and your Water at peace.

* * * * *

GULLY-VER.--Mr. BALFOUR'S decision as to not disturbing the SPEAKER in his uneasy chair was e-gully awaited, and is, it is hoped, accepted e-gully by all parties. So now, in his chair, Mr. GULLY will reign re-gully.

* * * * *

LATEST FASHION.--Bicycle dinners and suppers have been the vogue. _Pièce de résistance_ is of course "Cold Wheel." This dish is selected because whatever the number "wheel" is sure to go round.

* * * * *

LEAVE OF ABSENCE TO AUGUST-OUT DALY CO.

AUGUSTIN DALY'S Company has left us just as play-goers had taken a fancy to _Nancy & Co_. To paraphrase the old refrain--

And all their fancy Dwelt upon NANCY The play called _Nancy & Co._

It went as a lively laughter-raiser should go, with Miss ADA REHAN excellent in every way; Miss MAXINE ELLIOT charming; JAMES LEWIS inimitably funny, and Mr. WORTHING ("quite a Bright'un," as WAGSTAFF says) capital. That the fun of a farcical comedy should be kept up through four acts is a tribute to the original work and to the skill of its adaptor, Mr. _Daly_ himself. _"Vive la Compagnie!" et au revoir!_

* * * * *

A Sportsman's View of It.

CHAMBERLAIN _vice_ ROSEBERY! What fun! The change means order, peace, and lots of tin for us. What are the Derbies twain young Primrose won To the _New Markets_ many JOE will win for us?

* * * * *

"AFTER THE CALL WAS OVER."

(_Notes for an Additional Chapter to the History of Hullibulgaria._)

The Deputation did their very best. They were most anxious to make things smooth. "He whom they desired to obey" would wear an inferior sort of crown, robes of cotton-backed velvet, trimmed with imitation fur. He would not give away orders--he would only take them. He would not command the army, save as an agent acting under direction from the Master. There is nothing he would not do to secure the goodwill of his great, his benevolent, his all-powerful Master.

The Bear was very amiable. The Bear was pleased with the Deputation and with the nation they represented. And having said this, there was nothing further for the Bear to say.

"But, most powerful of powers, most clement of sovereignties," urged the Deputation, "there is another matter needing decision. How about the Prince?"

"What Prince?" softly murmured the Bear, in a tone of curiosity combined with astonishment.

"The Prince we wish to serve," explained the Deputation; "the Prince who desires to serve you."

"Have you read the Treaty of Berlin?" asked Bruin. "It is a most excellent agreement, and deserves special attention. Does the name of any Prince appear therein?"

"No," replied the Deputation; "and the same painful omission is observable in the _Almanac de Gotha_. So we would petition on our knees that the painful omission should be supplied. We ask that the Prince----"

"Stop! stop!" cried the Bear. "You are talking of a myth. As Mrs. GAMP--a well-known Englishwoman--once observed, 'I don't believe there ain't no sech person.' So think I, and so thinks the Treaty of Berlin."

And so the Deputation returned from whence they came, and "the Prince" continued to "take the waters" without obtaining the cure he desired. It was disappointing to His Highness, but not to the Editor of the _Almanac de Gotha_, who found a revised edition of his excellent periodical was, at least for the present, unnecessary.

* * * * *

What title will Baron DE WORMS take? Viscount CHRYSALIS? to end by becoming Le Duc DE PAPILLON?

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* * * * *

PASSION AND POETRY.

I was immensely struck, a few days ago, by a passage in a speech recently delivered by the Archbishop of CANTERBURY, in which he explained his method of dispelling those passing fits of ill-temper from which, alas! not even Archbishops are wholly free. "At times," so ran the report of His Grace's words, "anger or irritation came upon him, but on the table he kept a book of pleasant poems, of which he would read a few lines, and the irritation would melt away." Immediately I determined to follow this noble example. It was unfortunate that the "book of pleasant poems" was not described more specifically--could it be the verses of Mr. ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON?--but I bought a pocket volume of _Selections from the Great Poets_, which contained enough variety to suit every case, and then looked out for an opportunity of trying the Archbishop's plan.

I had not long to wait. That very evening I came across my uncle ROBERT at Clapham Junction, in a furious rage at having just missed the last train to Slowborough, where he lives. At once I produced my volume, and in slow and emphatic accents I read aloud some three or four hundred lines from "Paradise Lost." I was about to add one or two of WORDSWORTH'S sonnets, when I realised that my uncle had long since disappeared, and that I was surrounded by a jeering crowd, who evidently supposed me to be a member of the Salvation Army.

On the following morning I received a visit from SNIPS, my tailor. He was impolite enough to suggest a settlement of what he termed my "small account," a demand, as I politely but plainly assured him, which was altogether absurd. As he showed distinct symptoms of irritation at this juncture, I began to read him a scene from _Measure for Measure_. Strangely enough, this seemed only to irritate him further, and I understand that he intends to take proceedings against me in the County Court. This second unaccountable failure of the Archbishop's remedy greatly surprised and pained me, but I decided to give it another trial.

This morning I was playing golf with my friend MACFOOZLE. At no time a skilful golfer, MACFOOZLE'S form to-day was worse than ever; whenever he made a bad stroke--and he seldom made a good one--he indulged in the most violent language. Fortunately my volume of poetry was in my pocket. When he completely missed his drive at the second hole, I read him COLERIDGE'S _Dejection_. When he broke his mashie at the fourth, I treated him with copious selections from _In Memoriam_. Finally, he got badly bunkered while playing to the fourteenth hole. For some ten minutes he smote furiously with his niblick, only raising prodigious clouds of sand as the result of his efforts. This was clearly a golden opportunity for the Archbishop's cure, "anger and irritation" but faintly represented MACFOOZLE'S rage. Seating myself on the edge of the bunker, I began to read aloud _The Ring and the Book_ with the utmost pathos. Over what followed I prefer to draw a veil. It is enough to say that a niblick is a very effective weapon, and that I write these lines in bed.

When I recover, I really must call at Lambeth for fuller directions. The archiepiscopal remedy for angry passions does not seem invariably happy in its results, as far as my experience goes.

* * * * *

THE MALT-LIQUOR-TIPPLER'S MAXIM.--_"Nihil ale-ienum a me pewter":_--"Nothing in the shape of beer comes amiss to me if it's in a pewter."

* * * * *

_To the ancient air of "Cheer up Sam!"_

BUCK-UP, GRACE! And don't let your average down! For "RANJIT" seems running you hard for first place, To collar your Cricketing Crown!

* * * * *

"PROUD O' THE TITLE."--Sir HENRY JAMES to be "Lord JEAMES." How delighted W. M. THACKERAY would have been!

* * * * *

By a Reasonable Rad.

_Why_ were we whipped? Rads wrangle round, But to _the_ cause make scant allusion. When all's summed up, it will be found, "Fusion" has won against _Con_-fusion!

* * * * *

A SUGGESTION.--In latest _Observer_ is a capital article by Mr. ESCOTT, whose text is that "smart" Society transplants to London all Parisian fashions that will bear the process. The title is "British Boulevardism;" but one still more suggestive of the mixture would be "John-Bullvardism." Perhaps Mr. ESCOTT may adopt this and give us another column.

* * * * *

ROUNDABOUT READINGS.

In a biographical sketch of the late Rev. Dr. JULIUS HAWLEY SEELYE, formerly President of Amherst College, in America, I read that "Amherst made him President notwithstanding considerable opposition in the faculty. He soon overcame that, and advanced the prosperity of the College in the accessions to its faculty and endowments that he secured. He soon required the students to sign an agreement to be gentlemen. A violation of the pledge resulted in the termination of their careers at Amherst." This sounds strange, for it would appear that if no pledge had been given the students might have behaved as they liked, without terminating their careers. The idea of solemnly pledging yourself to be a gentleman is quite colossal.

* * * * *

The Independent Labour Party is not dead yet. It is forming clubs, just like any ordinary humdrum party. The _Western Daily Press_ reports that "At a special meeting held at LEE'S Coffee Tavern, Bath Bridge, last night, when there were present Mr. W. S. M. KNIGHT, president of the Bristol South Independent Labour Party (in the chair), Messrs. A. BROWNE, E. B. HACK, C. VALE, C. F. BROCKLEHURST, T. POLE, C. PARKER, and W. PRICE, it was unanimously decided to open a club for Totterdown and the East Ward of Bedminster in connection with the Independent Labour Party. Officers and a committee were appointed, and suitable headquarters for the club were decided upon." Nothing could be more appropriate. Totterdown suggests decrepitude and failure (in this case at least), and Bedminster hints at repose and peace. I offer the suggestion and the hint gratis to the Independent Labour Windbags.

* * * * *

The Loveday Street Canal Bridge (which is, I fancy, in Birmingham) is evidently a demon bridge with a depraved taste for injuring children. One day last week it threw JOHN CHICK, aged seven, off and broke one of his legs. About five hours later, resenting an attempt on the part of THOMAS WALTON, aged twelve, to climb it, it flung him off on to the towing-path and injured his back. A few days before that it had precipitated the same THOMAS WALTON into the water, whence he was rescued with some difficulty. Evidently this is a bridge with an ungovernable temper, and the authorities should guard it efficiently.

* * * * *

_The Scotsman_ informs me that "speaking the other day at Haddington, Mr. BALFOUR glanced scathingly at those politicians of the baser sort who seek to confuse great issues by dragging to the front petty or irrelevant questions, and the breath of whose nostrils is the disturbance of the harmony which should subsist between class and class of the community." On this two questions arise. The first is how Mr. BALFOUR, an amiable gentleman, managed to glance scathingly. To scath, as I learn from the dictionary, means to hurt, to injure; and, personally, I cannot imagine Mr. BALFOUR infusing very much venom into a mere glance of his expressive eye. The second question is how politicians, even of the baser sort, can go on living when their unfortunate lungs are filled with a disturbance of harmony. That they should have sufficient strength left to drag to the front petty or irrelevant questions is nothing short of a marvel, due allowance being made for metaphors.

* * * * *

A golfer is in trouble, and has confided his difficulties to _Golf_.

Whilst playing on the links at Streetly, on July 16, he drove a ball, which apparently fell clear, but which for some time could not be found. After some little hunting it was discovered under a small tuft of heather in a lark's nest, resting on the back of a young lark, apparently about four days old, together with three lark's eggs, which were quite intact. The golfer was obliged, of course, to lift the ball and place it behind, as it would have been gross cruelty to have played it from the nest. It was match play. Under the exceptional circumstances was he bound to lose the hole? The editor replies that if a player were a stickler for the law and nothing but the law, he, of course, would be entitled to enforce it against his opponent who found the ball in the nest.

* * * * *

A tee for your ball, you may fashion of sand (Which is found in the sugar you use for your tea); Then you spread your legs wide, and you take a firm stand, And away with a whack goes the ball flying free.

If it flies like a bird, there's no need to explain; If not, then the ways of that golfer are dark, Who attempts, though the effort is doomed to be vain, To stand, taking tee on the back of a lark.

* * * * *

There has been some excitement at Weston-super-Mare. The "Conservative party organized a reception for the Hon. G. H. JOLLIFFE on his first appearance in the town since his election for the Wells division. Arrangements were made for those intending to take part in the procession to meet the hon. gentleman at the Potteries on his return from Banwell Horse Show at 7 p.m., but he arrived in the town a quarter of an hour too early, and scores of enthusiasts were disappointed. Those, however, who happened to be early enough followed the hon. gentleman, some on foot and others in cabs, to the Royal Hotel, the Town Band heading the procession. Mr. JOLLIFFE rode on a coach drawn by four horses, and was supported by several of the leaders of the party in the town. Subsequently he addressed those assembled." But if Mr. JOLLIFFE rode on a coach, why was it necessary to support him? Moreover, seeing that it was a four-horse affair, it seems unjust that the leaders should be talked of and that no mention at all should be made of the wheelers.

* * * * *

NANA SAHIB has died once more.

A Mr. WILLIAM BROWN, who was formerly an officer in the East India Company's service, and is now residing at San Francisco, gives the following particulars regarding the fate of NANA SAHIB. Mr. BROWN says that he was commodore of the Ganges Fleet in the Indian Mutiny, and was attacked by Sepoys under NANA SAHIB himself, who was shot in the fighting, and afterwards died on board Mr. BROWN'S ship. NANA SAHIB'S body was then cremated, and the ashes were committed to the river.

Why, oh why, has Mr. BROWN, whom I heartily congratulate on clearing up the mystery, kept silence for nearly forty years? And, by the way, which Mr. WILLIAM BROWN is he? There must be a good many WILLIAM BROWN'S even in San Francisco. Before concluding that the matter is definitely settled, I should like to hear Mr. HENRY SMITH, Mr. RICHARD ROBINSON, and Mr. JOHN JONES on the subject.

* * * * *

WHERE NOT TO GO.

(_Hints by our Pessimist Passenger._)

_Amsterdam._--Too much sea before you get there.

_Boulogne._--Not particularly pleasant at low tide.

_Cologne._--The reverse of fragrant at all times.

_Dieppe._--The trap of the tripper.

_Etretat._--No longer what it was.

_Frankfort._--Only good for a change of money.

_Geneva._--Dull and dear.

_Heidelberg._--Too much hill, and too little castle.

_Interlaken._--The 'appy 'ome of 'ARRY.

_Jura Pass._--Sure find for BROWN, JONES, and ROBINSON.

_Karlsbad._--Kill or cure.

_Lyons._--Apotheosis of silk monotonous.

_Marseilles._--Good place for musquitoes, bad for all else.

_Nice._--Too near to Monte Carlo.

_Ouchy._--Hotel good, but surroundings superfluous.