Chapter 1

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PUNCH,

OR, THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

VOLUME 98.

MAY 10, 1890.

* * * * *

EIGHT HOURS ONLY.

(_A Fancy Sketch of the Possible._)

It was the first day under the operation of the new Act. Everyone was a little nervous about the outcome, and JOHN JONES, the Barrister, was no exception to the general rule. At three o'clock he was in the full swing of an impassioned appeal to the Jury.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. JONES," said the Judge, glancing at the clock, "but I am afraid I must interrupt you. I cannot hear you any longer."

"But, my Lord, I have not touched upon a third of the case. I can assure you my remarks shall be as brief as possible."

"That is not the point, Mr. JONES," replied his Lordship. "I am following your argument with the liveliest interest, and I am sure that all you would wish to say would be of the greatest possible service to your client; but unfortunately I happen to know that you prepare your cases in the early hours of the morning. Now, you know the law as well I do. If you have not been at work to-day for eight hours, of course I shall be happy to hear; but if you have----"

"As your Lordship pleases," said poor JONES, and he gathered up his papers, and left the Court.

"Just in time, Sir," observed the attendant in the robing-room, as he put the Barrister's wig in its box, and assisted him to divest himself of his gown. "Had you come five minutes later, we should have gone."

"Really! How would that have suited silk and stuff?"

"Caused a fearful row, I am afraid, Sir. But we daren't exceed the eight hours' limit, and we must keep two or three of them for some work we have in the evening."

When JONES found himself in the Strand he noticed that the traffic was considerably less than usual. The omnibuses were few and far between, and he did not see a cab in any direction.

"Yes, Sir," replied a policeman, who was removing his band of office, preparatory to going home; "you won't find many. Eight hours' limit, Sir. Good-day, Sir. I am off myself."

The boats had ceased running; there were no trams. To pass the time he thought he would call upon the Editor, whose rooms were in Fleet Street.

"I hope I am not interrupting you," he said, as he entered the sanctum.

"Interrupting me! Why, I am delighted to see you. We have nothing to do. Mustn't exceed the eight hours, and they were up at two o'clock. But how did you get in?"

"Oh, the Publisher opened the door, and then returned to a rubber of whist he was playing with the Reader, the Manager, and the Head of the Advertisement Department. I was introduced to them all. Then I watched a tug of war going on in the composing-room between the Compositors on the one side, and the Machinists and Foundry-men on the other, and came up here."

"Very glad to see you, my dear fellow!" and the Editor once again shook hands.

A little later JONES entered a restaurant, but he was refused dinner. The eight hours' limit had cleared off the cooks and the waiters. Half-starving, he purchased a stall for the theatre. For a while his thoughts were distracted by the excellence of the performance. Suddenly, in the most interesting part of the play, the curtain was prematurely dropped.

"Very sorry," said the Stage Manager, addressing the audience from behind the footlights, "but, Ladies and Gentlemen, we have no option. We had a rehearsal this morning of the new piece, and, taking this into consideration, our limit is reached. I may seize this opportunity for regretfully announcing that as two performances take more than eight hours, the customary Saturday _Matinee_ will for the future be discontinued."

The orchestra played a few bars of the National Anthem, and the theatre cleared. JONES strolled on to the Embankment, and, the evening being pleasant, took a seat. Beside him was a student reading for examination, a clergyman thinking out a sermon, and an artist taking a rough sketch. JONES took out a brief himself and opened it.

"It's no business of mine," said a policeman off duty, who happened to be passing, "but you gents will get yourselves into trouble if you exceed the limit."

"I will go home," exclaimed JONES; and he walked to his suburban villa. But the place was locked up, and the servants did not dare to open the door to him, as they had finished their legal spell of labour hours before.

"Don't feel well," he murmured. "Will call upon my Doctor."

"Now, my dear Sir," said the medical man, as JONES appeared before him, "you know I must not prescribe for you. The eight hours' limit was reached at four."

"Then, I suppose I must die. Will the Act allow me to do _that_?"

"You, as a Barrister, ought to know best, my dear Sir. What is _your_ idea?"

"My idea?" echoed the considering JONES. "Well, I should say----But, stay; I am not entitled to give a professional opinion until to-morrow morning! Still, offhand I may observe, that such an illegal death would savour of positive suicide; but it would not matter very much, as under existing circumstances suicide in some form or other seems to me inevitable!" And JONES was right!

* * * * *

* * * * *

IN THE KNOW.

(_By Mr. Punch's Own Prophet._)

Those who have carefully read the remarks which I have thought it my duty to make in these columns from time to time, must have reaped a golden harvest at Newmarket last week. It is not easy, of course, in these milk-and-water days to say what one means in sufficiently plain words. Personally, I have always been mild in my language, and have often been reproached on this score. But I have always found it possible, without using vulgar and exaggerated abuse, to express the contempt which, in common with every right-minded man, I feel for the grovelling herd of incompetent boobies, whose minds are as muddy as the Rowley Mile after a thunderstorm. _Surefoot_ was always a favourite of mine. Two months ago I said, "if _Surefoot_ can only face the starter for the Two Thousand firmly, he will probably get off well, and ought not to be far behind the first six at the finish. As to _Le Nord_, though he is not my colour, he is not likely to be last." Only a mooncalf, with a porridge-bowl instead of a head, could have mistaken these remarks.

So Sir THOMAS CHUCKS has joined the ranks of aristocratic owners. Here is a chance for the dilly-dallying professors of humbug to distinguish themselves. What can be expected from a stable which always runs its trials at one o'clock in the morning, with nobody but Mr. JEREMY to look on? No doubt we shall hear all about it in the columns which Mr. J. devotes to the edification of dough-faced, gruel-brained noodles who accept him as their prophet.

_Catawampus_ ran well last week. With two stone less and a Calyx-eyed saddle-bar, he would have shown up even better. Whenever the barometer goes up two points _Catawampus_ must be remembered. He was foaled in a ditch on the old North Road, somewhere between London and York, and having remained there or thereabouts for a month, may be considered a good stayer.

* * * * *

THE EMPIRE IN THE TIME OF SEVERUS.--Wonderful Juggler at the Empire, with a name that's not to be trifled with, SEVERUS. Some nights he may be better than on others, but you'll be delighted if you just catch him in the Juggler vein.

* * * * *

The Over-rated Rate-payers who fear the rising of the Rates more than almost any other rising, express a hope that the L. C. C. will be economical, and that FARRER may be "Nearer."

* * * * *

* * * * *

PRIMROSE'S PEEP-SHOW.

(_Vide Lord Rosebery's resume of the year's work of the London County Council._)

MASTER BULL _loquitur_:--

Humph! Show is very passable, no doubt; And as you pull the strings, my clever Showman, 'Tis clear that _you_ know what you are about, Sense's sworn friend, and babbling folly's foeman. The slides, as worked by you, seem mighty fine, A trifle vague, perhaps, in composition, Sloppy in colouring, and weak in line, As is the civic peep-show's old tradition; Still there is graphic vigour here and there, Perspective, and a general sense of "movement." On the old "Shirker" Show, 'tis only fair To own, it evidences some improvement. Plenty of slides! there is no doubt of _that_; In fact one questions if there are too many. Yes, I shall find when you pass round the hat, The price is more than the old-fashioned Penny. I pay my money and I take my--choice? Well no, it won't quite fit, that fine old patter. Still, if your Show proves good, I shall rejoice; A trifling rise in fee won't greatly matter, If 'tis not too "progressive" (as you say). To stump up for sound work I'm always willing; But though, of course, a Penny may not pay, One wants a first-class Peep-Show for a Shilling! Some of your novel slides are rather nice, Some of them, on the other hand, look funny. I felt grave doubts about 'em once or twice. I don't want muddlers to absorb my money. However, as I said, 'tis very clear As puller of the strings you yield to no man. The Show seems promising, if rather dear, But anyhow it has a first-rate Showman!

* * * * *

"So Engelish you know!" exclaims the BARON DE B. W., on seeing the advertisement of Dr. LOUIS ENGEL's new book from _Handel to Halle_. "It will be interesting," says the Baron, "to note how much of HANDEL's popularity was due to that particular inspiration of genius which caused him to use the name of the future composer and pianist in one of his greatest works, namely, the celebrated '_Hallelujah Chorus_.' For this magnificent effort would have been only half the chorus it is without 'HALLE' to commence it."

* * * * *

GRANDOLPH GOODFELLOW;

OR, PUCK AT THE SPIGOT.

(_Shakspeare adapted to the situation_)

_Bung._ Either I mistake your shape and making quite, Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite Called GRANDOLPH GOODFELLOW. Are you not he That did your best to spill Lord S-L-SB-RY? Gave the Old Tory party quite a turn, And office with snug perquisites did spurn? And now you'd make Strong Drink to bear no barm (Or proper profit.) You would do us harm. Those that Hobgoblin call you, and sly PUCK, Are right; you always bring your friends bad luck. Are you not he?

_Puck._ By Jove, thou speak'st aright; I am that merry wanderer full of spite. I jest unto the Plebs and make it smile. Old, fat, and bean-fed Tories I beguile, And lead them to a Democratic goal. Now I am "going for" the flowing bowl. E'en W-LFR-D owns I am "upon the job". I mean to save the workman many a "bob". But, lessening his chance of toping ale, The Witler tells his pals the saddest tale. Bacchus for his true friend mistaketh me, Then step I from his side, down topples he, And "Traitor!" cries, and swears I did but chaff, And the Teetotallers hold their sides and laugh, And chortle in their joy, and shout, and swear That GRANDOLPH GOODFELLOW's a spirit rare. But room, old boy, the Second Reading's on.

_Bung._ He is a trickster:--Would that he were gone!

* * * * *

MR. PUNCH'S DICTIONARY OF PHRASES.

SOCIAL.

"_Dear me, how surprisingly your voice has strengthened since I last heard you sing_;" _i.e._, "Roars like a town-bull, and fancies himself a LABLACHE!"

"_I saw quite a ring round your picture at the Academy to-day_;" _i.e._, "If only he had heard them laugh!"

"_Won't you stop and have some lunch?_" _i.e._, "Couldn't help asking him, as the confounded luncheon-bell rang a peal; but if he has any manners or consideration he'll say, 'No, thank you,' and go."

"_I know your face so well--but I am such a bad hand at names_;" _i.e._, "Never saw him before in my life!"

"_Pray allow me to get it_;" _i.e._, "Catch me moving!"

"_You know you can trust me implicitly_;" _i.e.,_ "May be a good story to tell."

"_He has such wonderful wit_;" _i.e._, "An unfailing flow of rudeness which he calls repartee."

"_Rather satirical, yes: but she has marvellous insight into character_;" _i.e._, "She has been complimenting _me_."

PLATFORMULARS.

"_These, then, are the arguments_;" _i.e._, "They're all yawning--must end somehow."

"_A crushing reply_;" _i.e._, a retort discourteous, in which all the points of the attack are adroitly evaded.

"_After the magnificent oration to which we have just listened with so much delight, I feel that anything that I can say must be in the nature of an anti-climax_;" _i.e._, "Confound him! Why will he take all the 'fat' to himself, and cut the ground from under a fellow's feet?"

"_I have the greatest possible pleasure in presiding over this magnificent assembly on this memorable occasion_;" _i.e._, "Place is like a malodorous oven, and I wish to goodness it were all over."

PARLIAMENTARY.

"_I appeal to that consideration which the House always extends to a new Member, &c._;" _i.e._, "Mean to make them sit up a bit, but _must_ come the conventional modest."

"_The Honourable and Gallant Gentleman has fulfilled his task with all the ability that might naturally be expected_;" _i.e._, "With none worth mentioning."

"_I rise to order_;" _i.e._, "To raise _dis_order."

EPISTOLATORY.

"_Let me be the first, dear, to congratulate you on your well-merited good fortune_;" _i.e._, "She has the deuce's own luck, and doesn't deserve it."

"_Thank you so much for your beautiful present, which I shall value for its own sake as well as for the giver's_;" _i.e._, "Wouldn't give twopence for the two of 'em."

"_So good of you to send me your new book. I shall lose no time in reading it_;" _i.e._, "No; not a single second."

AT A DANCE.

"_So you prefer to stand out of this dance, dear?_" _i.e._, "Trust her for being a _willing_ 'Wallflower.'"

"_Shall we sit this out on the stairs?_" _i.e._, "I don't want to dance, and I _do_ want to spoon."

A LITTLE MUSIC.

"_Well, dear, the only song I can remember, without music, is 'Gasping'--but I'll try that, if you like_;" _i.e._, "_Her_ great song, which she has been grinding up to sing to--or rather _at_--young FITZ-FLOSS. _Won't_ she be wild?"

"_Well, your Beethoven bits are lovely, dear, we know; but suppose you give us something lighter, for once_;" _i.e._, "BEETHOVEN, indeed! BESSIE BELLWOOD is more _her_ style."

CHANNEL PASSAGE.

"_Well, it may be a bit lively when we get out_;" _i.e._, "You won't know whether you are on your head or your heels in ten minutes."

CURIOMANIA.

"_I've never seen such a collection of curios in my life!_" _i.e._, "Hope I never may again!"

"_I'm no great judge of such things, but I should say this specimen is unique_;" _i.e._, "It is to be _hoped_ so!"

"Ex-_qui-site_!!!" _i.e._, "Rubbish!"

RAILROAD AMENITIES.

"_Awfully noisy carriages on this line_;" _i.e._, "Thank goodness! The clatter has tired even _his_ stentor throat."

"_Good-bye! So sorry we don't travel farther together_;" _i.e._, "Hooray! Now for feet up and forty winks!"

PREPARING FOR PRIVATE THEATRICALS.

"_I'm sure you will be a great acquisition to my little company_;" _i.e._, "Awful stick, but a _pis aller_ I'm afraid."

"_Now if there's_ anything _you notice not_ quite _the thing_, pray _mention it_. I'm _not above taking a hint_;" _i.e._, "Nor _you_ up to giving one--of any value."

"_Oh, no doubt you're right, though it's not the way_ CHARLES MATHEWS _did it_;" _i.e._, "That's a nasty one for you, Mr. MEDDLER."

"_Ah, yes, I was a little off colour, perhaps; but I shall be all right on the night, you bet!_" _i.e._, "Not going to be dictated to by _you_ anyhow."

* * * * *

"STANDS SCOTLAND (YARD) WHERE IT DID?"--Yes; only more so. And how kind and thoughtful of the Government to order that the materials for building the new Police Offices should be found and fashioned by the Dartmore convicts. Quite a labour of love!

* * * * *

Correspondent, in _Times_ of Saturday, showed that, in Spite of increase of population, there has been a decrease of drunkenness. In 1884-85 there were 183,221 drunken Police-court cases; but in 1887-88 only 166,366. Anti-temperance persons will look upon this as "a Drop too much."

* * * * *

PICTURES OF THE YEAR THAT NO PATRON OF ART CAN POSSIBLY OVERLOOK.--Those that are sky'd.

* * * * *

"SCOTS, WHA HAE."

(_New Version. Sung at the Opening of the Edinburgh International Exhibition, May 1._)

Scots, wha hae at Paris bled, Scots, wham COOK hath aften led, Welcome to the white, green, red, Of your ain Great Exhibition.

Now's the day and now's the hour; Though you have no Eiffel Tower! See the bawbees pile and pour; All the world shall crowd to see!

Wha will want to pinch and save? Wha to see it will not crave? Wha will not declare it brave? Far from Edinbro' let him flee!

Wha will wish to see the sight Of the graund electric light, And the "Kiowatt" of might? Caledonian! on wi' me!

Ninety acres on the plain! Almost apes the Show by Seine. Won't folk flock by tram and train To our International Show.

Let the Incandescents glow, Sixteen thousand, row on row! SANDY all the world will show He will beat the best--or die!

* * * * *

MODERN TYPES.

(_By Mr. Punch's Own Type-Writer._)

No. XI.--THE YOUNG GUARDSMAN.

The Young Guardsman believes himself to be not only the backbone of the British Army, its vital centre and support, but also its decorative master-piece. Other officers, of whom the Guardsman is wont to speak with a vague pity as belonging to "some line regiment," are not apt to sympathise with him in this exalted estimate of his military position and functions. They are accustomed to urge, that he is to the general body of officers as gold lace is to the uniform he wears, a gaudy ornament fashioned for show and useless for the practical work of the military profession. Doubtless "these are the forgeries of jealousy," or, if true at all, they are true only for that limited period of the Guardsman's existence, during which he pays more attention to his own dressing than to that of his men, and imagines that the serious objects of life are attained when he has raised the height of his collar by half an inch, or invented a new fashion of transfixing a silk scarf with a diamond pin. In fact it is during the first flush of his youth that he displays those characteristics which have specialised the Guardsman amongst the golden lads who afterwards come to the dust of middle-age and a colonelcy.

It is by no means necessary that the Young Guardsman should enjoy an aristocratic parentage, provided it be a wealthy one; nor is it essential that he should have made his mark at school as a scholar, an athlete, or a social success. Indeed, nothing is more common than to hear a former school-fellow express himself in terms of derisive amazement when he is informed that So-and-So is now in the Guards. "What, _that_ scug?" he will observe with immeasurable contempt, and will proceed to express his surprise how one who neither played cricket, nor football, nor rowed to any purpose can possibly add distinction to Her Majesty's Brigade of Guards. These observations, it should be said, however disrespectful they may be towards a particular individual, undoubtedly show a strong feeling of veneration for the repute of the Guards in general. It must be added too that on his side the Young Guardsman is not slow to repay, and in doing so to aggravate, the contempt of the burly athlete who may have kicked him at school, and towards whom he now assumes a lordly air of irritating patronage hardly endurable, but not easily to be resented, by one who feels it to be totally unwarranted.

The Guardsman, then, will have passed through school without emerging in any way from the common ruck of ordinary boys. He will have left at a comparatively early age in order that his education may no longer be neglected, and will have betaken himself to the fostering care of one of the numerous establishments which exist to prove that the private coach _Codlin_ is superior to the public school _Short_. Hence, if his abilities are exceptionally brilliant, he will have passed into Sandhurst. Failing this, however, the Militia is a refuge and a stepping-stone. In any case he will find himself in due time the owner of Her Majesty's Commission and the largest head-dress in the British Army. In short he will become a Guardsman in full bloom.

And now he begins to reap a plentiful harvest of easy social distinctions, in the sowing of which he himself has borne no part. He may be, though to be sure he is not always, the feeblest and most vapid of created beings, but he will be none the less courted and flattered by the numerous band who fix their eyes and their hearts on social position without any regard to the particular atom of humanity by which it may chance to be filled. Hostesses shower invitations upon him, he slides easily into the membership of many Clubs both social and sporting, tradesmen and money-lenders solicit with humility the supreme honour of being his creditors, and all the world, as he counts it, smiles upon him and is ready to make much of him. A man would require to be made of exceptionally stern stuff not to yield to many of the temptations thus spread before him, and the Young Guardsman, although he is as martial as the occasional wearing of his uniform can make him, is by no means stern. He yields, however, with an admirable grace, and although his nationality and his profession both forbid him to display an excess of enthusiasm, it may be said of him that he tolerates his pleasures and does not despise the amusements for which a musketry course at Hythe or an occasional encampment at Pirbright seems to give him an additional zest.

He is often to be seen at dances, and although he does not dance much and is not much of a dancer, it is impossible to complain of any lack of vigour in his steps as he tears round the room with his partner in double-quick time. Having done this he will descend to supper with a young married lady whom he is temporarily honouring with his attentions, and will impress her with the maturity of his views of the world. He will hint to her that, after all, there is more to be said for _Don Juan_ than is commonly supposed, and that "by Gad, a feller who chucks away his chances when there are no end of 'em runnin' after him is a fool dontcherknow, and you may tell 'em I said so." After he has imparted this information he will re-conduct her upstairs, and will then leave in a hansom preceded by a tall cigar, for which he has paid half-a-crown.

At Maidenhead, too, on Sundays during the summer the Young Guardsman is a conspicuous object. Robed in spotless flannels, with the Brigade Colours round his straw hat and his neck, he may be seen propelling a punt with much perseverance and some accuracy to Boulter's Lock and back. Afterwards he will dine with the comfortable conviction that he has had very violent exercise.