Part 1

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

VOL. 109.

JULY 27, 1895.

THE LOST RECORD.

(_The Wail of a Wiped-out Wheelman._)

AIR--"_The Lost Chord._"

Reading one day in our "Organ," I was happy and quite at ease. A band was playing the "_Lost Chord_," Outside--in three several keys. But _I_ cared not how they were playing, Those puffing Teutonic men; For I'd "cut the record" at cycling, And was ten-mile champion then!

It flooded my cheeks with crimson, The praise of my pluck and calm; Though that band seemed blending "Kafoozleum" With a touch of the Hundredth Psalm. But my joy soon turned into sorrow, My calm into mental strife; For my Record was "cut" on the morrow, And it cut _me_, like a knife. A fellow had done the distance In the tenth of a second less! And henceforth my name in silence Was dropt by the Cycling Press.

I have sought--but I seek it vainly-- With that Record again to shine. Midst crack names in our Cycling Organ, But they never mention mine It may be some day at the Oval I may cut that Record again, But at present the Cups are given To better--_or_ luckier--men!

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* * * * *

OF COURSE.--Directly it was known that Sir WILLIAM HARCOURT had accepted an invitation to contest West Monmouthshire, and that Mr. WARMINGTON had generously offered to retire in his favour, there was a rush for the evident joke of styling the self-effacing Q.C. "Mr. WARMINGPAN." It is uncertain which paper was the first to get the Warmingpan into its sheets. Sir WILLIAM did not find the vacated seat too hot to hold him. Just nice.

* * * * *

NEW TITLES.--Sir HENRY LOCH is created Baron LOCH of Drylaw. The title will be appropriately written out on parchment. For was there ever a more dry-as-dust title than that of a Barren Loch and Dry Law!! Mr. STERN comes to the front as Baron WANDSWORTH: not of Wandsworth Common, "and so," as a Shakspearian clown might say, "the title is uncommon." Finally

Cock a doodle doo! Lord HOUGHTON'S Earl of Crewe!

being, evidently, the living representative of SHAKSPEARE'S "Early Village Cock."

* * * * *

SCRAPS FROM CHAPS.

BALLOTERY.--The Cork Agricultural Society had before it a proposal of the County Board to rent their ground for holding sports. The Chairman said,

"It was to be understood that the grounds would only be let on the understanding that no drink would be sold, and that _no political meetings or gambling_ would be allowed."

Rather hard on politicians this, to bracket their patriotic endeavours with pitch-and-toss and alcoholic indulgence! If politics are like strong drink, nobody at any rate can call them a form of "refreshment"! But defeated candidates will quite agree that the game of "_bleu et jaune_" is a good deal worse than "_rouge et noir_."

* * * * *

A DAY SHIFT.--From the _North British Daily Mail_ comes news of a daring electoral outrage. The Liberal candidate wanted to address the colliers in one of the Lanarkshire towns; but his meeting was very poorly attended. The cause was that the colliers were all waiting at the bottom of the pit ready to be drawn up, but "it was found necessary to send down an extra quantity of wood at that particular time"; so that the colliers could not get to the surface for an hour, when the political meeting was over! Smart man, the Conservative agent in that division! The pitmen could not be wound up, so the meeting was. It isn't only in Lanark that the Liberal Party wants a lift!

* * * * *

"LITTERAL" TRUTH.--The effects of the General Election on the Press seem to be most marked in Ireland. An Irish contemporary has the following:--

"IRELAND. THE VICEROYALTY TO BE ABOLILHED.--Colonel SAUNDERSON, addressing the Orangemen of Diamond, near Armagh, said that Lord LALISBURY'S Government would bring in a Bil to obolieh the office of Irish Viceroy."

What is really to happen to the Irish Viceroy is rather mysterious. Is he to be "abolilhed," or only "oboliehed"? Perhaps "Lord LALISBURY" will kindly explain.

* * * * *

DRINKING SCENE OF THE FUTURE.

(_In consequence of the Growing Demand for Lighter Liquors._)

SCENE--_The interior of a Dining-room. The ladies have just left, and the gentlemen are discussing their beverages._

_Smith._ I say, BROWN, if it is not an impertinent question, where _did_ you get that toast-and-water?

_Brown._ I thought you would be deceived! It was a cup, not the pure article! My butler is a first-rate hand at it. I will give you the recipe if you like.

_Smith._ Do. It was excellent. What _is_ the secret?

_Brown._ Something, I fancy, to do with watercress.

_Jones._ I say, BROWN, that was really very nice sherbet. Turkish or Persian?

_Brown._ Neither. Came from the Stores. Home-made.

_Jones._ Well, it certainly was capital. I could have sworn that it had been manufactured East of the Levant.

_Brown._ More likely East of Temple Bar. And now shall we have a whitewash before we join the ladies?

_Six Guests._ No, thanks! Really not!

_Half-a-dozen more of the Company._ Really not! No, thanks!

_Brown._ Nonsense! (_Produces a pint bottle of lemonade._) Nonsense, I repeat! Look here, my boys. (_Locks door._) Not one of you fellows shall leave the room until you have finished _this!_

[_Draws cork of pint bottle, and distributes the lemonade amidst the good-natured protestations of the revellers. Scene closes in upon the Temperance orgy._

* * * * *

_NOT IN THE "NEWCASTLE PROGRAMME."--Last week Sir CHARLES FREEMANTLE, K.C.B., was presented with his portrait painted by Hon. JOHN COLLIER, in Hon. JOHN'S best style; and so, for this work, COLLIER cannot be "hauled over the coals." _À propos_, evidently _the_ artist to paint the present Ministry should be a Collier, as it is a _Coal_ition Cabinet. If the Collier were a Radical, how coal-black the portraits would come out!

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* * * * *

'ARRY ON THE ELECTIONS.

Dear CHARLIE,--O 'ip, 'ip, 'ooray, an' three more, and a tiger! Great Scott! I'm as 'appy as ten on 'em, CHARLIE, though thusty and thundering 'ot. I've bin up to my eyes in it this time, and now these 'ere Polling Returns Are a-sending me slap off my chump, though I'm sorry they didn't chuck BURNS.

Oh! I'm feeling O K and a arf; I could stand on my 'ed with delight, For the Rads are knocked out in three rounds, 'Ome Rule's smashed, and Old England's all right. And although it is late, and I'm tired, I'm so full of our Glorious Win, That I feel I _must_ sit down and drop yer a line, mate, afore I turn in.

I'm the Pet of the Primrosers, CHARLIE, and, 'ang it, I've earned it all round, For I've worked like a nig, and no error. It suits me right down to the ground. I've canvassed and posted tremenjous, I'm 'usky with cheer and chi-ike, And I've mounted the Unionist colours, and blazed round the streets on a bike.

There was full arf a mile on us, CHARLIE, a scarlet percession on wheels; With Japanese lanterns a-flying, and 'underds o' kids at our 'eels. I felt I was "charging the guns," like that brave Ballyclava Brigade, With shouts for "Lord MUNGO and Malt!" and a little one in for "The Trade."

I tell yer, old man, 'twos hexciting. We dashed along Mulberry Scrubs. And up the 'igh street a rare buster, 'ocrayed by the bhoys at the Pubs. We scooted around for ten mile, the 'ole distance one thunderin' cheer; And _when_ we pulled up at the "Crown," if you'd just seen me lower the beer!

I lapped off a quart in one quencher. "_That_'s rippin'!" sez I to the Bung. "I felt liked a dashed wooden 'orse, with a lump o' red leather for tongue." "Ah!" sez 'e, "and jest fancy, old man, if them Vetoers 'ad their vile way, Wy, _I_ couldn't sell you a tankard, and _you_ wouldn't 'ave any say!"

But jimminy-whizz, _'ow_ we squelched 'em! We got our man in two to one, Though our neighbourhood used to vote Rad, and a Tory was not in the run. Wot beans it must be to old 'ARCOURT, wot toko to LAWSON and CAINE! Well, they've got their fair arnser this time; let us 'ope they won't try it again.

_Workin'-men_ on the _Radical_ ramp? You should jest 'ear wot _I_ 'ear, old pal. Let big pots make the round o' the pubs, and they won't talk that footy fal-lal. Labour wants steddy work and good wyges, and likes to see England look big; And then, with its baccy and beer, it's all one to it, Tory _or_ Whig.

Wot's it care for Welsh Churches, or Scotch 'uns, as don't 'ardly enter its own? And as to 'Ome Rule--for yer worker there's dashed little meat on _that_ bone. Talk of Betterment, Progress, Peer-smashing, and such-like, may do for the Clubs; But all Labour _gits_ is 'igh rates, shocking trade, and a raid on its pubs.

Workman sez it's too good enough, CHARLIE; believes as it's better by far To vote for Old SOL, a big Navy, an' maybe a olly good war. He's sick of the bloomin' old forriners copping our trade and our tin, And 'e's game for Protection _and_ Peers--_anythink_, so Old England may win!

If the Rads wont his vote for the future, they've got somethink _solid_ to do! Village Councils and Vetoes won't work it, for all BILLY 'ARCOURT'S boohoo! 'E don't wont less beer, but more beer-money, ah! and 'e don't care a blow If 'e gits it from ROSEBERY and 'ARCOURT, or SOLSBURY, BALFOUR and JOE!

But 'ang it, I'm preaching, old oyster, and giving them Rads the straight tip. One thing, they won't take it, this lot won't; they ain't got no savvy, no grip. Bin sloppin' all over the place like, a-fillin' their cup, and that rot, And now, arter tackling the pewter, they find as they've all gone to pot.

O ain't it ske-rumptious, my pippin? I feel I could washup Brum JOE, And I'm bound to admit, next to Bung, us true Tories must thank _him_ this go. He's crumped 'is old pals a fair knock-out. If SOLSBURY'S saddle 'e'll carry, And run straight in 'arness with ARTHUR, _'e_'ll do! Yours, tolbobbishly,

'ARRY.

* * * * *

NOT THE ONLY DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THEM.--Lord ROSEBERY the Derby Winner; Sir W. V. HARCOURT the Derby Loser.

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* * * * *

DISSOLVING VIEWS.

(_A Reminiscence of the Recent Elections._)

SCENE--_The corner of Northumberland Avenue, opposite the National Liberal Club, where a screen is erected, on which the latest results of the second day's pollings, together with photographs of prominent Liberal politicians, and scathing caricatures of Unionist leaders, are being exhibited by a magic lantern for the benefit of a large and good-humoured crowd. The sympathies of the majority are, as might perhaps be expected, with the winning side, but the minority is very fairly represented, while in "booing" and "brayvo"-ing they are incontestably the stronger party._ TIME--_Between 10 P.M. and 12.30 A.M._

_Spectators_ (_as the portrait of_ Sir WILLIAM HARCOURT _is displayed_). Yah! Tike 'im down! 'Ow about Durby?... Brayvo!... Three cheers fur 'AR-COURT! 'E'll come back yet! (_Lord_ ROSEBERY'S _likeness follows_.) Good ole _Ladas!_ Cheer up! Put a _smile_ on 'im!

[Mr. GLADSTONE'S _face, leonine and benignant, is next shown_.

_A Chivalrous Conservative_ (_magnanimously_). 'E's a grand old chap, any'ow; _I_ ain't goin' to chevy 'im.

[_Which, to the credit of the assembly, seems to be the general sentiment, as conveyed by unanimous applause._

_A Sanguine Radical._ We shall 'ave the results in soon now; it's past ten. We shall do better to-day than what we did Saturday, you _see_.... Ah, here's the first--"Hereford. Unionist Majority, 313. No change." You can't _expeck_ none in a rotten place like that! You _wait_ a bit.... "Croydon. Increased Unionist majority of 835. No change." Well, 'UTCHINSON done very well; it's a strong Tory seat, is Croydon. They're on'y 'olding their own so far--that's all.

_Radical Group_ (_as a series of cartoons is next displayed_). Hor-hor! There's JOEY, d'ye see? Boo-oo. "'E tiles not now!"... 'Oo's _that?_ The ole Dook o' CAMBRIDGE? No, it's Lord SOLSBURY, that is. So it is. That's a good 'it, eh? Look at the size of 'is _boots!_ What's written on them? "_Comfort_," or somethink! "_Chuck-out_," is it? Oh, I couldn't make the writing out. Hor-hor; got 'im there, they 'ave. Garn. King BOMBA!... Look at ole GOSHIN. 'E _'ave_ give 'im a _'at_, ain't 'e? I arsk _you_, is _that_ a fice, as orter be in Parliment?... 'Ave they 'ad BALFOUR up yet? Yuss, they did _'im_ with 'is trousers shrunk up to 'is knees. Kepital it was. Harhar! that's the way to show _that_ lot up, and no mistake! (_&c., &c._)

_The Crowd_ (_as several results are announced in succession_). Comin' in quick now, ain't they? Look there! "Boston. Unionist gain!" 'Oo-ra-ay! bo-oo-oo! "North Lambeth. Unionist gain." .... "Rochdale. Unionist gain!".... "Bristol (South), increased Conservative majority. No change."

_The Sanguine Radical._ Tell ye what 'tis, they're putting in all the Conservative wins _first_. And them bigoted beggars at Bristol, they dunno what they're votin' _for_, they don't. We shall pull up afore long. There, what did I _tell_ you? Look a' _that_. "Durham. Liberal majority, 1--Objection raised." Hooray! we're beginning ter buck up _now_, ye see! (_Radical groups cheer in a spirit of thankfulness for small mercies._) "Pontefract. Liberal majority, 57. No change." (_Frantic Radical enthusiasm and cries of_ "Good ole Pontefrack!") "Huddersfield. Radical gain." (_Roars of delight from Radicals._) 'Ave a few more like _that_, and we shall do.... "Oldham. Conservative gain o' two seats." (_Tremendous cheering from Conservatives._) Well, after _that_, I'm prepared for anythink, I am!

_Elderly Radical Solon._ It's jes _this_ way, them Conservatives, they ain't got no _prinserples_, o' course, but they do stick together, and that's 'ow they git the advantage over _us_. But it jes serves the Govment right fur not parsin' the Second Ballot. They _could_ ha' done it, and they _orter_ ha' done it!

_His Companion_ (_disguising a slight vagueness as to the precise nature of this measure_). I dessay, I dessay; but it's these 'ere Labour Kendidates as are playin' the dooce with us. Lost us several seats a'ready, they 'ave.

_The R. S._ My argument on that is this--the ole question o' the Labour was concocted four year ago at Devonshire 'Ouse.

_His Companion_ (_guardedly_). It _might_ ha' bin, but I don't foller yer, John.

_An Independent._ Anyway, you can't say as the Labour Candidate made any difference _'ere_--he on'y polled twelve 'undred and fifty-one votes, and the Unionist had neely five thousand!

_His Neighbour._ No difference? 'Ow d' yer make _that_ out? Why, the Radical was on'y four'underd or so be'ind, and it stands to reason, as if arf the Labour votes 'ad bin given to 'im, he'd 'a won easy!

_The Independent_ (_hastily_). Yes, yes; jesso, jesso; but that wasn't my _point_. And KEIR 'ARDIE sez there'll be three 'underd Labour Kendidates next elections. Ah, and they'll _find_ 'em, too!

_A Unionist._ I 'ope they may. More on 'em the merrier--for _our_ side!

_The Independent._ Any'ow, KEIR 'ARDIE'S safe for West 'Am. Majority o' twelve 'underd and thirty-two last time. Take a _lot_ o' pulling down, that will! (_Polling at West Ham (South) announced._ KEIR HARDIE _defeated by 775. Impartial joy of Tories and Liberals._) What? Chucked? _'Im!_ The on'y man with the morril courage to wear a deerstalker in the 'Ouse! They ain't fit to _'ave_ a vote!

[_Exit disgustedly._

_A Red-hot Radical._ Ah, what I ses is, it don't matter which you fetch a man out of--whether it's Newgit, or whether it's a mad 'ouse, 'e's good enough to make a Tory of! Look at 'im as 'as got in agen for West Puddlesford, 'e's a beauty--the 'ottest member in the 'Ouse, 'e is--_that_ feller, why, 'e's a reg'lar tinker's cuss, as I 'appen to know! (_Another result is exhibited. A Conservative Brewer gets in for Worcester. No change._) Good ole Bung'ole! It's the beer as _does_ it!

_First Mechanic_ (_after a Radical majority at Devonport has been announced_). Well, I can't understand a dockyard town voting for a Radical; they get twice the amount o' work under a Tory government, that's a matter of common knowledge.

_Second Mechanic._ What's the good o' that when others have got none at all? I'm all for _ekalizing_ the work--let 'em have 'alf the work and give others a chance.

_First Mech._ You wouldn't accept 'alf the work _you_'ve got, I'll lay. You _would?_ Well, yer _missis_ wouldn't, then!

_Second Mech._ She'd 'ave to. And why should 'alf of us starve?

_First Mech._ Why should _all_ of us? But there's no use o' you and me _argufying_ about it.

[_Which, of course, they continue to do notwithstanding; there is a lull in the returns, and the photographs and caricatures are once more in request_; Mr. CHAMBERLAIN'S _being exhibited upside down by way of variety_.

_A Radical._ What d' yer think o' JOE _now?_ 'E's met with a reverse, eh!

_A Tory._ _That_'s all right, mate; it on'y means as 'e's a goin' to do it on 'is 'ed!

_An elderly and excited Irishwoman._ Ah, bad luck to 'im, the murtherin' scounthril! wants a _toitle_, dees he? Jist th' loike of all thim Saxon opprissors, th' toirant. What does _he_ care hwhat becomes o' th' poor Oirish, so long as he gets his billyfull?

[_She pours a stream of denunciation into the ears of the nearest Radical._

_The Radical_ (_soothingly_). Good 'ole BRIDGET. But look 'ere, you needn't come and talk to _me_ about it. (_Indicating a Tory neighbour._ You go an' tell '_im!_

[_Which_ BRIDGET _does, volubly; more portraits are exhibited. One of_ Mr. JUSTIN MCCARTHY _being hailed with cries of "Brayvo_, LABBY!" and _"Our Cartoonist" being instantly recognised as the late_ Mr. PARNELL.

_Radical Spectators_ (_after results of polling at Deptford, Halifax, Hartlepool, Bristol (North), (&c._). Oh dear, oh dear, oh _dear_. Well, I'm sure! MACNAMARA, the man 'oo polled the 'ighest votes in the School Board Election--and look at him _now!_ If SIDNEY WEBB 'ud ha' contested that, 'e'd a' _won_ it!... There's _another_ seat we've lost. Well, I was 'appier standing 'ere this time three years ago, blow'd if I wasn't!... Oh lor, my brother-in-law 'll go wild over this. My ole uncle 'll go arf orf his 'ed. (_&c., &c._)

_An Irrelevant Person._ Tork about Tories! Why, I'll lay anybody a shillin' JEM SMITH, the fighting man, 's a Tory, and _all_ o' them prize-fighters are--and that's 'ow it's _done!_

_First Lounger._ _'Oo_ ain't a workin' man? I lay I work as 'ard as what _you_ do, come now!

_Second Lounger._ What _are_ yer then? A mat-seller?

_First Lounger_ (_indignantly_). Garn! A mat-seller? I'm a bloomin' toe-walker, I am. Lean up agin the doors o' public-'ouses, I do, and work _'ard_ at it!

[_His claim is reluctantly admitted._

_The Sanguine Radical._ Twelve Unionist gains to three Radical! Well, there's no denying things ain't gone quite as well as I expected. But there, there's no telling; by this time to-morrow we shall all know more than what we do now. I shall turn in to LOCKHART'S and 'ave a large cocoa after this. I _want_ it, I can tell yer!

* * * * *

OPERATIC NOTES.

_MONDAY, July 15._--_Tannhäuser_ Combination Company night. Made in Germany, brought into England, and sung in French. ALBANI unexpectedly out, like HARCOURT; EAMES in as Liberal-Unionist. "Miss EAMES and miss ALBANI," quoth WAGSTAFF. MAUREL unwell: apologised for EAMES, distantly related to "'Eames Ancient and Modern," (which superseded TATE and BRADY,) nervous but charming. Protean Mlle. BAUERMEISTER as _Little-Bo-Peep_, the shepherd's boy, excellent. _Venus-Adini_ fine and large, offering to excellent _Tannhäuser-Alvarez_ a great contrast to beloved _Elizabeth-Eames_. House crammed.

_Saturday._--Peacefully comical and classical _Philemon et Baucis_ followed by warlike, modern, and tragical _La Navarraise_. Bang go the drums and cannons. CALVÉ to the front! _C'est magnifique!_ Literally stunning! DRURIOLANUS must get an opera written with a naval engagement in it (he can easily add this to his other engagements for next season), ending with general explosion and Admiral's cocked hat going off. No charge for suggestion. Bombardier BEVIGNANI or Marine MANCINELLI might revel in it. _Vive la Guerre!_

* * * * *

Breach of Promise Couplet.

[Last week Miss EDMAN sued JAKOBOWSKI for breach of promise and won her case with £700 damages.]

O JAKOBOWSKI many tears you'll shed man, You lost your money when you lost your 'Ed-man!

* * * * *

Election Notes from the West.

_Plymouth._--CLARKE secures seat, but HUBBARD, like dog of celebrated ancestress, has none.

_Falmouth._--HORNIMAN in. "_Fabula narratur de Tea._"

_Camborne Division._--STRAUSS conducting great campaign in a Miner key. Key to situation.

_Ashburton Division._--Radicals fighting nix or nothing. Unionist war-cry, "Nix my dolly, pals, vote away!"

_Torquay Division._--Electors continue policy of filling up the cup by returning PHILLPOTTS.

* * * * *

COUPLET, JUST OUT.

On faults only two in our rule I can touch: We gave 'em too little and promised too much.

_Sir Henry Campbell Balladman._

* * * * *

"GOODE GOODS."--"The Goode Collection" sold at Christie's Tuesday and Thursday last. Goode enough, of course; but because it was the Goode Collection it evidently could not have been the Best.

* * * * *

RECIPROCITY.

SCENE--_A London Dinner Party._

Mr. LAMBERT _and_ Mrs. CRUMPINGTON (_chance partners_).

_Mr. Lambert_ (_feeling his way_). Been to the Opera often this season, Mrs. CRUMPINGTON?

_Mrs. Crumpington._ Oh, very often. I am so devoted to music, you know, that I go whenever I can. And, talking of music, have you heard that new pianist, Herr--what _is_ his name?--oh yes, Herr WIDOWSKI? He's too delicious for words!

_Mr. L._ No; I can't say that I go to concerts much. You should talk to my daughter ETHEL--she's devoted to music, and they tell me that she's got a really fine voice. I'm sure she practises enough.

_Mrs. C._ Indeed? Well, I've no voice, I'm sorry to say; but I play the piano a little--only a _very_ little, you know.

_Mr. L._ Wonderful what a lot of people _do_ play in these days--(_hastily_)--not like _you_, of course; but one hears pianos and fiddles going in every house, and most of them are simply instruments of torture.

_Mrs. C._ (_smiling_). Rather a rash remark--isn't it? You've never heard me play, you see! (Mr. L. _endeavours to protest_.) Oh, but I assure you I quite agree with you. For instance, my next-door neighbours are always making the most awful noises--playing and singing morning, noon, and night. The wall is very thin, and I am nearly driven crazy.