Part 2

_Friday._--House adjourned for holidays. "When we come back," says OLD MORALITY, "we must really begin work. Playtime up to now; left most of the work over; must buckle to. We've been in some danger, and there may be more ahead. Why are persons sometimes killed by leaning over beer-vats? Because vats, when beer has been made, contain large quantities of carbonic acid gas, produced by the vinous fermentation of the beer; and when a man incautiously leans over a beer-vat and inhales the carbonic acid, he is killed thereby. It is, of course, not quite the same in respect of spirits. Still, when a Chancellor of Exchequer has clapped on sixpence a gallon on whiskey, it is as well for his colleagues to avoid looking a Scotch hogshead or an Irish puncheon in the face. _Au plaisir, cher_ TOBY. Come along, JACKSON!"

The two Right Honourables go off together, JACKSON evidently turning over in his mind OLD MORALITY'S observations on the beer-vat.

"A wonderful man," he says, "his mind stored with odd bits of information, which he draws upon for enlightenment upon ordinary events of daily life. Don't exactly see, though, how he rolled in that beer-vat. Must think it over during the Recess."

Everyone glad to hail JACKSON "Right Honourable." A proud title, as yet not spoiled by indiscriminate distribution. Suffices for GLADSTONE, as it did for PEEL; suits JACKSON exactly.

_Business done._--Winding up for Whitsuntide. Adjourn for holidays till Monday, June 2nd.

* * * * *

THE OPERA-GOER'S DIARY.

_From the Note-book of Mr. Pips Senior._--_Monday, May 19._--To the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden. First night of the Season. The house infinite full, and the Prince of WALES and the Princess, and the Princesses their daughters, there in a box, pretty to see. DRURIOLANUS OPERATICUS ET COUNTICOUNCILLARIUS mightily pleased at what I hear is the biggest subscription to this class of entertainment ever known. Many fine faces here to-day. The sight of the ladies exceeding noble. A new wench, Mlle. NUOVINA, to sing for the first time, taking the part of _Marguerite_ in the Opera of _Faust_, which she did prettily and quietly. Curious to see a _Marguerite_ with jet-black hair and a white face; yet comely and with much grace.

Everyone extraordinarily content with Mons. JEAN DE RESZKE, the best _Faust_ that did ever sing and play this part. But vexed to see one M. ORME DARRALL act _Mephistopheles_ in the room of EDOUARD DE RESZKE, who, poor man, is sick. The scenes and the chorus all very fine indeed. All of us pretty merry at the droll mimicry of Mlle. BAUERMEISTER as _Martha_, who makes this part go most rarely.

Pleased to see Madame SCALCHI dressed as a boy for the part of _Siebel_. The house mightily content, and wishing her to sing one song twice over, which she would not. In which matter she did wisely, as also the others.

Went out before the last Act began, to find it raining heavily, and, good lack! not a _Commissionnaire_ to be met with for a quarter of an hour. Whereat mightily troubled to get a coach, till one did fetch me a four-wheeler, which I entered, in great disorder, after much strife and contention. Cost me sixpence. To RULE'S, in Maiden Lane, being mighty thirsty, where had supper on excellent lobster and fresh salad, with eggs of the plover, and a draught of the best stout, which did much content me. Comes young SILLIGREW, who makes merry about "sticking to Rules for supper and no exception," or some such nonsense, which I have forgot, though we laughed heartily at his manner of saying it. Drank to the success of the Italian Opera and of DRURIOLANUS. After paying the reckoning, took cab, and so home to bed.

_From Note-book of Mr. Pips Junior._--_Tuesday._--PIPS Senior doesn't go to Opera to-night. PIPS Junior does. Think PIPS Senior, as an Admiralty official, will be at the Court Ball with Madame PIPS. Glad, therefore, to take his stall at the Opera. _Carmen_ always delightful. Tuneful, melodious, and bright. Good Bizet-ness. Mlle. ZELIE DE LUSSAN as _Carmen_ mighty difficult to beat, and she sings and plays the part with all the diabolical waywardness of this impudent Spanish baggage, as PIPS Senior would call her. Pity that MAGGIE McINTYRE is indisposed to play _Michaela_; she used to do it so prettily and so innocently that she shone out as just the very contrast intended by the author. Instead of MAGGIE, Mlle. COLOMBATI sings the part to-night. She is very graciously received, as is also Signor FERNANDO VALERO (from several Opera Houses abroad) who makes his _debut_ here as that vacillating tenor, DON JOSE. Clever Mlle. BAUERMEISTER as frisky _Frasquita_, and Mlle. LONGHI as _Mercedes_, both excellent Bohemian Girls. To see them going nap was a treat! Which wins? One excellent Irish-Italian, DAN DRADY, as the _Toreador_, first-rate. What a song it is! _Encores_ refused all round, of course. In spite of State Ball, House very nearly as full as on first night. Brilliant effect of some ladies who are "going on," and who can't of course "go on anyhow," but are obliged to appear in their diamonds.

Pretty to see little Mlle. PALLADINO dancing. Very short life and a merry one has the _premiere danseuse_ in this Opera. Just a few steps, and then she "steps it," and is not seen again. There is too little of PALLADINO at any time, and in this case, as she only comes on for five minutes at the commencement of Act II., and then "_bon soir!_" she may be described as "Small and Early."

_Thursday._--_Rentree_ of Mlle. ELLA RUSSELL as _Leila_ in BIZET'S _I Pescatori di Perle_, another version of _The Diversions of Purley_, a work now more or less forgotten. Signor VALERO better as _Nadir_ (isn't this the name of a well-known photographer?) than as _Don Jose_. Not unlike the lamented GAYARRE. The more like he can become to that tenor the better. M. DUFRICHE came from Madrid to play _Zurga_. A long journey; almost sorry he gave himself the trouble, but there's more than this for him to do. Lovely finish to First Act, but after that the Opera is not a stirring one, the story being so idiotically undramatic. ELLA fresher than ever.

_Friday._--_Lohengrin._ Wagnerian worshippers in their thousands. What shall she do who comes after _Albani_ in the part of _Elsa_? That is the question, and MAGGIE McINTYRE supplies the answer, which is Uncommonly well. A sweet picture in a gentle frame of mind, so Macintirely pure and simple. A trying, very trying, part. How grand are the DE RESZKES--JEAN and EDOUARD--or more familiarly as we come to know them better, JACK and NED. NED looking well, and singing so too, in spite of recent chill. Warmth of reception to-night would thaw any chill. But what a couple of bores are the characters of _Ortruda_ and _Telramondo_, even when superbly played as to-night, by Madame FURSCH-MADI--(the real Mahdi at last!)--and Signor DAN DRADY, bedad! Fortunately the Opera is considerably curtailed, or we should never hear the last of it.

_Saturday._--_Il Trovatore._ Great night for "the big, big D",--that is, for "the high D," on which the new tenor, M. RAWNER, alights with a sudden bound that electrifies the house. His "high D" is quite an _Eiffel tour de force_. Henceforth M. RAWNER must be known as "the High D-iddle-diddle" tenor, and His Highness will be expected to sustain his high reputation. Vocal effort almost eclipsed by wonderful physical force, which enables him to burst through the prison walls and bow to audience, who are enthusiastically applauding the _Miserere_. Unfortunately M. RAWNER, being a stranger in these parts, cannot find his way back again, and so is unavoidably prevented from being present at his own execution, which, in his absence, takes place without him. Madame TETRAZZINA--her first appearance here--not so great, perhaps, as she is good and graceful. DAN DRADY and Madame SCALCHI as "per usual," which is the highest praise. End of first week. General satisfaction.

* * * * *

THE PLEASURE-SEEKER'S VADE MECUM.

_Q._ I trust you have had a delightful time recently?

_A._ Indeed I have, with the assistance of Private Views, Special Performances, and Second-rate First Nights.

_Q._ Did you assist at the _premiere_ of _Gretna Green_, the new "Comedy Opera" at the Opera Comique?

_A._ An Act of it. It had already been played on a previous occasion, when I fancy one of the principal performers, finding that his part was dragging, introduced imitations of popular modern actors. As the period of _Gretna Green_ is the eighteenth century, this innovation must have been at once pleasing and appropriate.

_Q._ I think you have also been present at the first performance of the "Wild East," at the Earl's Court Exhibition?

_A._ I have had that advantage, and am now thoroughly conversant with the manners and customs of our lively neighbours in some parts of Africa.

_Q._ Are those manners and customs what may be termed--quaint?

_A._ They are very quaint. Still I am not sure that I have not seen something very like them before. As for the Exhibition itself, there is as little doubt about its being French, as there was about last year's display being Spanish.

_Q._ Have you been to the Flower Show at the Aquarium?

_A._ I have; but did not find that home of scientific research quite so full as it was when the Directors were testing the powers of endurance of the Fasting Man.

_Q._ Do you consider the Westminster Aquarium of material assistance in developing the latent civilisation of the nineteenth century?

_A._ Indeed, I do; especially now that "the Royal Bears" are a feature in the daily programme.

_Q._ Did you pass the Bank Holiday pleasantly?

_A._ When I tell you that I seized the opportunity to go to Calais and back third-class excursion with a number of anti-temperance-movement fellow passengers, you will see at once that the festival must have been to me a source of unmixed enjoyment!

* * * * *

* * * * *

"COUNTRY AND DUTY."

OLD MORALITY (_in flannels_) _sings_;--

Ouf! Free from their "howlings and whinings" awhile, (Which, as the _Times_ tells us, are frightful--are frightful.) But here Nature smiles, a true Smithian smile, And the change from the House is delightful--delightful! A smile which, as GOSCHEN would say, one can _hear_; A _susurrus_ sweeps over the river--the river. Oh, Henley in May to my heart is as dear As to Spaniards the gay Guadalquivir--dalquivir!

No doubt they are yelping and yapping like mad; In such hobbles cantankerous spleen lands--rous spleen lands. I peacefully sprawl on the turf, and am glad; The Blue Devils never reach Greenlands--reach Greenlands. By Jove, they have led me a doose of a life! Their conduct is sheer criminality--nality. Here, though, thank Heaven, I'm far from the strife, Here the wicked won't vex OLD MORALITY--RALITY!

True, 'tisn't for long, a clear week at the most. They would worry us out of our Whitsuntide--Whitsuntide. But still we all feel, though I don't want to boast, Like Park-hacks in paddock, or "tits" untied--"tits" untied. They mock my wide smile, and my scantness of thatch; I think, though, in managing skill I am--skill I am, All things considered, much more than a match For swaggering, swashing Sir WILLIAM--WILL-I-AM!

Lawks! this _is_ lovely! But, SMITHY my lad, In the midst of Arcadian beauty--an beauty, You mustn't forget (the reflection is sad) What is due to your Country and Duty--and Duty. That's why I have brought down this Holiday Task. Though slumber-inviting the weather--the weather, I'll turn my true hands, whilst in sunshine I bask, To the use of the brush and wash-leather--wash-leather!

It's got a bit rusty from sheer want of use; Though they tell me I'm promptish at pouncing--at pouncing. Ah me! E'en an angel comes in for abuse, Or _me_ they would not be denouncing--denouncing. A crocodile's sure to be down on the Gag, And HARCOURT'S a fair alligator--ligator; He's awfully wide in the jaw, for a wag, But _I_'ll tie up the would-be dictator--dictator!

They're out without muzzles, the whole noisy pack, (I wish some sharp Bobby would run 'em in--run 'em in,) But _I'll_ be prepared for them when they come back. The fight for free jaw I have done 'em in--done 'em in. Good gracious! One's duty to Country and Queen Cannot be well done, as all know, by a--know, by a Man amidst yelpings of furious spleen, Suggestive of sheer hydrophobia--phobia!

And so, whilst _sub tegmine fagi_ I sit, And pass in May sunshine a jolly day--jolly day, I think I'll just brush up this weapon a bit, And so make a good use of my holiday--holiday. They're bound to come back, and if barking they come, I'll be ready--and willing--to muzzle 'em--muzzle 'em. Dumb dogs may bite, but when _this_ makes 'em dumb, To bite us, I fancy, will puzzle 'em--puzzle 'em!

[_Left smiling and scrubbing._

* * * * *

MR. DUNTHORNE of Vigo Street is exhibiting a collection of "Atmospheric Notes," which are not, as Esoteric Buddhists might conclude, missives forwarded by astral current from a Mahatma, but a series of very charming pastels, by Mr. GEORGE HITCHCOCK. They are records of land, sea, and sky effects in Holland, characterised by a poetry and feeling, and a subtlety of colour that give equal pleasure to mind and eye. _Mr. Punch_ predicts, that the fortunate possessor of any one of these Notes, will be in no hurry to change it.

* * * * *

* * * * *

ROBERT AT GUILDHALL.

WELL, if we aint bin and had a fine time of it at Gildhall this last week or two, it's a pitty! What the pore harf-starved County Counsellors must have thort of it all, it isn't for me to say, and how they all felt when the ginerous old Copperashun tossed 'em a few dozzen tickets to skrambel for, when the great Mr. STANLEY came to supper, of course I carnt tell, but them few as I knowed seemed to find their way to my refreshment department as if by hinstinkt. I didn't, of course, hear the grate Traweller's grand speech, but I'm told as my pore namesake, Sir ROBERT FOWLER M.P.'s face was a site to see while he lissened to sitch a descripshun of his Quaker Friends as he probberbly never heard afore.

There was grate complaints made about the want of enuff wittles and drink, but anyone who seed, as I did, the fust rush for 'em by the hungry mob, couldn't have been much surprised at that. Why, I myself seed, with my two estonished eyes, one gent, as I spose he called hisself, take up a hole dish of most lovely Hoyster Pattys, and skoop out all the Hoysters with a spoon, and then return the hemty Pattys from whence they came! Feeling as I couldn't be of no more use after there was nothink left for me to hand to the fresh mob as kept on arriving, I quietly warked off, and made my way to the supper-room, where the hemenent Traweller was aswaging the pangs of hunger with reel Turtel Soup and setterer. Ah! what a contrast! Plenty of everythink, and plenty of room to enjoy it.

With that abundant kindness as so distinguishes him, the LORD MARE acshally hintroduced me to the Ero of the Heavening, who kindly shook hands with me, and hoped as how as we shood meet again, which I can quite bleeve if he thinks as it allers includes reel Turtel Soup, and setterer. Rayther different living to what he has bin accustomed to for 3 years parst, pore Feller! They tell me as he as bin to the Mountins of the Moon. Evins! ow did he get back? By balloon. But I don't kwite bleeve horl I eers.

But on the following Friday there wasn't not no xceptions to anythink, and everrybody, from the Prince of WALES hisself, down to the werry umblest Postman or Sorter, left that nobel old Hall, estonished, and delited, and appy.

And no wunder, for, by the combined efforts of the hole Copperashun and its werry numerus Staff, and the hole Army of Postmen, and Tellacram Men, and all manner of Sorters, and Stampers, St. Martin's-le-Grand was removed boddily to Gildall, and everything that was ever done in the one place was dun in the other before the estonished eyes of sum two thousand of us, ewen includin four-horse Male Coaches, with sacks of letters, and reel Gards with reel Horns, which they blowed most butifully. It was a gloreus Jewbelee! I'm that bizzy I hardly noes wich way to turn first, so no more at pressunt from yores trewly,

ROBERT.

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* * * * *

OUR NEW DUKE.

AIR--"THE WIDDY MALONE."

Did ye hear of the Duke of ATHLONE? Ohone! He's a son of the Heir to the Throne Full grown. Of a prince quite a pictur', Is young ALBERT VICTOR, Who'll now as the Duke of ATHLONE Be known, He'll be the Great Gun of Athlone!

* * * * *

A MID-DAY MEAL-LENNIUM.

(_With Salutation to the "Society for the Promotion of Enjoyment during Luncheon Hours, specially in the City."_)

LUNCHING AS IT IS.

No, I certainly did _not_ order Irish Stew; but as you have now brought it, and I have been waiting a quarter of an hour for a cut from the joint, I prefer to take it.

This room is very stuffy and crowded. Is that purple-faced gentleman in the corner suffering from an apoplectic stroke?

No; but _he_ has been waiting _half_ an hour for the Irish Stew which I have just annexed. He seems angry about it.

Waiter, would you try not to kick my chair and knock the back of my head every time you pass with a dish?

Yes, I know it's a narrow gangway, and that everybody in this dark and confined crib which you call a City Restaurant is cramped for room; still, I _do_ object to collisions between my best hat and somebody else's victuals.

Would you mind talking to me in the Deaf and Dumb Alphabet? In this maddening clatter it is impossible to hear a word you say.

That young man three from me is evidently training as the Champion Express Eater of the World. He has got through joint, potatoes, rhubarb tart, and Cheddar cheese in seven minutes, and is now putting on his hat to go.

AS IT OUGHT TO BE.

Is this spacious airy hall, with a fountain playing in the middle of shrubs, and abundant light coming in through painted windows, really the "Apple-pie Restaurant" in its new form?

And this neat-handed Phyllis, who respectfully awaits my orders as soon as I have taken my very comfortable seat, _can_ she be the substitute for the over-worked and distracted City waiter of the past?

I see that especial care is taken to prevent the room being filled with more lunchers than it can hold with comfort to each individual customer, by an apparatus which automatically closes the door when every seat is full.

What! No shooting down of one's plate before one as if fired from a catapult, and no tedious waiting for dishes never ordered! This is a Luncher's Paradise.

It seems possible that I may now escape the dyspepsia which, in the old days, was the unfailing legacy of lunch.

* * * * *

"TOUJOURS 'GAY.'"--On an exit of Mrs. LANGTRY, as _Esther Sandraz_, at the St. James's Theatre:--

"Adieu! she cried, and wav'd her Lily hand."

[How is it that Messrs. Transparent Soap & Co. have never hit on this? Presented gratis.]

* * * * *

FORTHCOMING NEW WORK to be expected in about six weeks' time, _Newton's Principia_, revised and corrected by Mr. JUSTICE CAVE.

* * * * *

GROSVENOR GEMS. (FIRST VISIT.)

* * * * *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

Not much time for books this week, says the Baron; just been able to glance at W. S. LILLY'S _Right and Wrong_: verdict--so far, all right, nothing wrong. Sharp chapter on journalism--severe, but not unjust. Picked up small book, for which inquire at W. H. SMITH'S bookstalls, _Four Thousand Years After_, by HELEN L. CHEVALIER. Baroness having read it, highly recommends it in hot weather, as being a weird, mystical legend, of a soothing and interesting character, commencing a few years before "ADAM delved and EVE span," and finishing in the time of steam yachts; so that it is brought right up to date. It is full of incident and picturesque description. I see Mr. FARJEON has been at it again with the _Mystery of M. Felix_. _Felix_--Happy Thought. Mr. HARRY FURNISS'S _Academy Antics_ is entertaining reading, and some of the earlier illustrations are quite Gilrayish in their breadth of style, not of subject.

BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.

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PHENOMENON IN NATURAL HISTORY (_by an observant Cricketer_).--Obtaining a Duck's Egg from a Bat.

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IN THE KNOW.

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

EVERY jackass who ever was seen in the pig-skin knows perfectly well, or ought to know, unless his brain has gone barnacle-hunting in one of Mr. J.'s journalistic bum-boats, that a race is to take place at Epsom in the early part of next month. It has been customary to speak of this race as the Derby, and to imagine that the owner whose horse wins it gains possession of the Blue ribbon of the turf. As if, forsooth, in a matter like this, the colour mattered in the very least. But I have a further objection to this hugger-mugger, three-cornered, rag-and-bone, vermilion-faced, grog-blossomed, hash-headed fashion of describing things, and it is this. If a two-year-old, provided with one of Mrs. PARTINGTON'S patent range-finding, rectangular brooms, can beat an unbroken four-year-old over the Nose-bag Handicap Course by fourteen shoe-nails in a hundred, how in the name of all that is lop-sided can a three-masted frigate in full sail keep up with a Chinese Junk on Southampton Water? I pause for a reply, but knowing the anserous, venomous imbecility of the vermin who infest the turf, I think it will be a long time before I get one.

_Crimson Jack_ is a good horse--no thanks to the puddling and pilfering slop-shop proprietors who manage him. When he used to draw a dust-cart in Grosvenor Square he accustomed himself to the sound of the saddling bell, and now knows when luncheon time has arrived. A year ago, I wouldn't have given a copper shirt-stud for him, never having even heard of him. Now I believe him to be worth even more than the L10 given for him by the Ropes Contingent. But I have got my eye on them, and they know it. The mooncalves * * * gruel-brains * * * puddling simpletons * * * muddy and pernicious rascals * * * dolts, dumplings and dunderheads * * * poisonous, pestilential, crawling, goose-faced reptiles * * * rely on it I know. * * *