Chapter 1

PUNCH,

OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

VOL. 100.

June 27, 1891.

A WAIL FROM THE TUB.

A REMINISCENCE OF SUNDAY, THE 14TH OF JUNE.

SCENE.--_Hyde Park. Demonstration in progress, with the not unreasonable object of inducing Parliament to extend the Factory Acts to small and insanitary laundries. A lengthy procession, composed of sympathetic Railway Workers, Cabmen, Journeymen Tailors, Gas Stokers, House-Decorators, Carpenters, &c., &c., alt with resplendent banners and hired bands, has marched into the Park, together with some lorries and drags containing deputations of ladies from the laundry in the highest possible spirits. Once arrived, each platform chiefly concerns itself with the grievances of its own particular supporters, while a crowd of sightseers circulates, enjoying the oratory with a desultory impartiality. The usual silhouettes of gesticulating speakers appear like jerky clockwork figures above the throng. A crowd of Socialists are "remembering Chicago" in a corner. The chief centre of attraction is a drag occupied by a Philanthropic Young-lady Chairwoman, her chaperon, some leading laundresses, one or two male sympathisers, and a couple of reporters. The_ Chairwoman _conducts the proceedings with the greatest possible tact and grace, but is slightly hampered by the levity of a crowd composed of factory-girls, semi-imbecile larrikins, and professional laundresses, whose burning anxiety for reform masks itself under a surface frivolity. In the neighbourhood is a lorry decorated with clean shirts, and occupied by young washerwomen fired by an enthusiasm which manifests itself in bursts of shrill cheering and lively interchange of chaff with the spectators. In the meantime, the business of this particular platform proceeds somewhat as follows:--_

_The Chairwoman_ (_with patient good-humour_). Now, I'm sure you'll all be as quiet as you can while I ... (_Hubbub, caused by a personal altercation between two Women in the crowd, and shouts of "Order!"_) Because really my doctor has ordered me not to speak in the open air at all ... (_Here an ill-conditioned female, taking offence for some inscrutable reason, remarks loudly,_ "_'Er_ doctor, indeed, she's a beauty, _she_ is--'er and 'er doctor!" _More calls to order, and extreme indignation of the ill-conditioned female at being informed that she is "no lady," and had "better 'old 'er jaw"; ribald and utterly meaningless jests by the larrikins._) Order, _please_! (_Imploringly._) I know you won't make it harder for me than you can help. (_A young Lady in a very tall hat and feather is heard demanding that the Gentleman in front of her should remove his "boxer," on pain of obliging her to remove it herself; the question is argued at length._) ... You all know the purpose for which we have ... (_Here an enthusiastic old Lady on the drag begins to cheer aimlessly, and wave a scrubbing-brush; the Laundresses on the lorry join in._) Well, we're going to ask Parliament ... (_Another female in crowd_: "'Ullo, there's Mrs. JINNINGS, along with the toffs! I want to 'ear Mrs. JINNINGS speak, I do!") ... I shall now ask you to listen to a speaker--Mrs. GOFFIN--who has had several years' practical experience of laundry-work, and she will tell you, I am sure, what the hardships and injustices are which we are trying to put an end to.

[Mrs. GOFFIN, _a stout, red-faced Lady, mounts the seat with a cheery confidence, amidst roars of laughter, and shouts of "Go it, old girl!" "Don't forgit to send my shirt home next week!" &c., &c. The female in the crowd repeats her preference for_ Mrs. JINNINGS' _oratory; a string of factory-girls, in high-feathered hats, having just elbowed their way into the throng, suddenly conceive a desire to "get a breath o' air somewhere," and accordingly push and trample their way out again with a Parthian discharge of refined raillery--after which_ Mrs. GOFFIN's _voice becomes audible._

_Mrs. Goffin_. Why, I've been and spoke to hover forty Members o' Parlyment on the subjeck myself, I 'ave, and they was all on our side, 'cept three or four, as was lawyers--and you know what _they_ are! (_The crowd expresses hearty disapproval of the Profession as a body._) One on 'em sez to me, "My good woman, I'm against 'aving the Factory Acts. I'm all for freedom, I am!" "So am _I_ all for freedom," I sez, "but ..." (_Here another disturbance takes place; a little man, with red whiskers, has mildly objected to being leant upon by a burly stranger, who bawls_--"What are you afraid on? You ain't bin fresh painted, 'ave yer? Are yer 'oller inside--or what? Ga arn--I never knoo a carrotty-'aired man good for anything yet," &c., &c.) Then there's Mr. MATTHEWS, the 'OME SECKERTARY, _'e's_ against us, which I think 'e must be a woman-'ater hisself! (_Feeling suggestion from crowd that the_ HOME SECRETARY _has suffered a disillusion in his younger days._) But I was goin' to tell yer what we poor women 'ave got to put up with. Now there's a Mrs. HIRONMOULD, of Starch Row, Hacton Green, as I've worked for. (_A Lady in crowd, who knows_ Mrs. H. "Ah, _she's_ a beauty!" _Cheers for_ Mrs. HIRONMOULD.) Well, I'll tell yer something about _'er_--it'll jest show you what _she_ is! Why, that woman, as I know myself, she acshally ... (_She relates a personal and Rabelaisian reminiscence of_ Mrs. H., _to the huge delight of the audience._) I'll tell yer another thing--I've worked for a man down at South End, Healing, and this'll show yer the amount o' hinsult and hill-treatment we 'ave to stand, and never say nothing to. I've seed 'im, hover and hover agen, walkin' about among us in his shirtsleeves, with 'is braces 'angin' about is 'eels! (_Cheers from the crowd; demonstration with scrubbing-brush by the old Lady in the drag._) I 'ave indeed, and I don't tell yer no lies. (_Here a Lady in the crowd suddenly exhibits a tendency to harangue the public on her own wrongs, and has to be suppressed._) And that man 'e'd come up to me and say, "Ain't them shirts finished yet?" he sez. "No," I'd say to 'im, "they ain't, and I don't deceive yer." "It's time they was," he'd say. "Beggin' your pardon," I'd tell 'im, "it's nothink o' the kind; and, if you don't believe _my_ word, you may go and call your Missis out of the back kitching, as knows more about it than you do!" An' are you goin' to tell _me_ we ain't to 'ave a Factory Act, after _that_?

[_She stands down, having made the speech of the afternoon, and is rewarded by approving cries of "Good old girl!" An employer of labour is next introduced, and received at first with suspicion, until he explains that he is heart and soul with them, that he does not dread the application of the Factory Acts to his own establishment, and considers that it would be an excellent thing if all the smaller laundries were closed to-morrow, whereupon the ladies habitually employed in these places cheer him heartily._

_A Common-Sense Speaker_. It's all very well for you to come 'ere and protest against the laundresses workin' too long hours, but I tell yer _this_--it's yer own fault, it's the Public's fault. You _will_ 'ave yer clean shirts and collars sent 'ome every week! (_Several of the unwashed betray that this thrust has gone home._) A fortnight ain't a _bit_ too long to wait for your linen! (_Unanimous and hearty assent by people in dingy flannels._) And if some o' these swells and aristocrats weren't so partickler, and didn't send so much linen to the wash as they do, why, it stands to reason as the hours the washerwomen 'ud work 'ud be shorter!

[_Chorus of agreement; sudden unpopularity--especially, oddly enough, with lighthearted young laundresses--of persons in the crowd whose collars are at all aggressive in their cleanliness; universal feeling that the blame has been fitted upon the right shoulders at last. More speeches; simultaneous passing of Resolution; the Processions march away with colours flying and bands playing, and, if they have succeeded in advancing the true interests of labour, no one will be more gratified than their friend, Mr. Punch._

* * * * *

JOSEPH'S JOUST.

[Mr. CHAMBERLAIN, from the study of a certain "Liberal Leaflet" triumphantly draws the large conclusion that the Gladstonians have "dropped Home Rule."]

To "ride the high horse," my brave Brummagem boy, Is doubtless, to you, a delight and a joy; But little avails that equestrian quest, If the fruit of your ride is the merest "mare's nest."

* * * * *

APPROPRIATE FOR THE SULTRY SUMMER WEATHER.--The revival of _Drink_, at Drury Lane. It ought to be "iced drink."

* * * * *

"PALMAM QUI MERUIT, FERAT!"

Mr. PUNCH, _loquitur_:--

True, Madam, and tasteless would be the intrusion That tactlessly took no account of the time The praises of Britons are yours, in profusion; The blame for a blunder, the judgment for crime, Let Statesmen apportion; all know where the Honour In Manipur's ill-managed business is due; And _Punch_, whose delight is of praise to be donor, Without hesitation awards it to _you_!

The terrible tale of that sudden disaster Is vivid in memory, fresh on our ear; We know how a tender-souled woman could master The anguish of horror, the tremor of fear. That short brave defence will long live in our story. That long dreadful march England will not forget; Though womanhood finds little comfort in glory, For hearts that are aching and eyes that are wet.

Enough for to-day! When slow time has brought healing. The tale of those hours by your lips may be told. But proud admiration will scarce brook concealing, And _Punch_ to express it is courteously bold. He speaks for all England. For womanly valour We men have not shaped the right guerdon,--our loss! A brave woman's heart flushing red o'er fear's pallor, Deserves--what _Punch_ gives--the Victoria Cross!

* * * * *

"Their acquaintance," observed Counsel, in a recent Breach of Promise Case, "began in a 'bus." This may have been an error of expression, or a misprint, as "began _with_ a buss" would have been more likely.

* * * * *

ANOTHER JUBILEE!--The Jubilee of the COOK Tourist System will be celebrated July 22nd by a Banquet at the Métropole. The dinner ought to be A 1 with such a COOK.

* * * * *

SUMMERY MUMMERY.

I do not know how long the Summer Season at TERRY's, now being carried on by Mr. GEORGE EDWARDES, is to last, but with a little dexterous management there is no reason why this excellent form of entertainment should not go on all the year round. At 8 there is _The Lancashire Sailor_, by BRANDON THOMAS, which I didn't see; but have heard a first-rate report of it from those who have, and who "know." It might occasionally change places with _A Commission_. However, this is but a suggestion, as both the pieces I saw the other night will bear a second visit.

_A Commission_ is a short one-act piece, with a sufficiently good plot, and every part in it a character, except "_Parker_, the Maid"--and here let me enter a solemn protest against the further use of "PARKER" as the name of a lady's-maid in farce or comedy. PARKER is played out. Let her be united to "CHARLES, his Friend," and let both enjoy their well-earned retirement from the stage.

Miss LILY HANBURY plays "_Mrs. Hemmersley_, a rich young widow," which cannot be described as "a poor part." With this LILY, who looks rich and is beautiful, the poor artist--a very poor artist--one _Marshall_ (without a Christian name in the bill, so why not _Snelgrove Marshall_?) well played by Dr. FORBES DAWSON, falls desperately in love. WEEDON GROSSMITH is very good as the servant--almost better as the servant than as the author of the piece, and that's saying a good deal.

The _Pantomime Rehearsal is_ eminently funny; especially the first scene between the four men, Messrs. ELLIOT, DANEMORE, GROSSMITH, and BRANDON THOMAS. As for the last-mentioned, it is well worth a visit to this theatre to see Mr. BRANDON THOMAS in two pieces, first as the Model, and then as the Heavy Swell. It is a strong thing to say, but I can call to mind no actor on the stage at the present moment who could in two different characters on the same night so completely and absolutely lose his identity,--for voice, manner, action, and of course appearance are all utterly changed,--as does Mr. BRANDON THOMAS as _Gloucester_ the Model, and as _Captain Tom Robinson_.

All the ladies are good. Miss HELENA DACRE looks magnificent. Then Miss EDITH CHESTER combines prettiness with fun, and the duet between her and clever Miss LAURA LINDEN is enthusiastically _encored_--and deservedly so, for it is seldom that two young actresses will "go in" for a real genuine bit of nonsensical burlesque, and win. In fact it is all good, "and if our friends in front" will accept my tip, they will not find a more "summery" form of entertainment than at Mr. EDWARDES' TERRY's Theatre.

JACK-IN-THE-BOX.

* * * * *

HOW IT HAPPENED;

_OR, MANY A TRU(RO) WORD SAID IN JEST._

"And the See of Truro, your Gracious MAJESTY?" asked Lord SALISBURY, as he was packing up his portfolio, previous to leaving the Presence.

"Ah!" said the QUEEN, "for the moment I had forgot"--

"Quite so, your MAJESTY, if you will graciously pardon the interruption," put in the PREMIER--"that's the very person I would suggest."

"Did I mention a name?" inquired the QUEEN, somewhat puzzled.

"Your MAJESTY," replied the noble Earl, "observed that 'you had forgot.' I would suggest that the Bishopric of Truro should be _for GOTT_." Of course it was at once settled, and a _congé d'élire_ issued.

* * * * *

ETON JUBILEE CURIOSITIES.

[If the following have been omitted from the Catalogue, any visitor to Eton is entitled to call on the Provost, Fellows, and Head Master, and ask for an explanation.]

1. "_I'm Monarch of all I Survey._" Original copy of ballad sung by the First Eton Ten-oar.

2. Old Sketch (landscape) of the Very Cross Roads near Surley Hall. Also portrait of SURLY HALL himself.

3. "_A Night on the Brocas_." Old poem, supposed to be the original of the scene "on the Brocken" in _Faust_. A curious mistake of GOETHE's, probably due to his not having been educated at Eton.

4. The original "funny" owned by Master JOSEPH MILLER, supposed to have provided him with the notion for his first jest.

*** Also the original jest itself, bottled in high spirits, and in a fair state of preservation. As clearly as can be deciphered, the legend is something about "an Indian," "an oarsman," and "feathering a scull," or "skull."

5. A dissertation on the text that "The weakest goes to the Wall," showing how this proverb has been for many years directly contradicted, not only in theory but in practice during the Foot-ball time; it being at Eton the strongest who invariably go to "the Wall."

6. A finely illustrated poem on a bathing subject. It is called "_The Passing of Arthur_." The picture shows the Masters on the bank at Cuckoo Ware, while one small natational Candidate is still in a punt shiveringly awaiting the command to jump in again and swim the regulation distance. From the title, it may be taken for granted that this ARTHUR did "pass" after all. Poor little chap!

7. "_Going a Cropper off the Acropperlis at Athens_." Another bathing subject--unsigned.

* * * * *

MOMUS ON MANIPUR.

Sentiment, GORST, to your stern soul, May seem a "Simple Simon;" But if there _be_ a cheaper _rôle_, 'Tis that of twopenny Timon!

* * * * *

Twin MOTTO.--"_You mustn't speak to the Man at the Wheel_" has become a proverbial expression. It stood alone. Now it has a companion; it comes from the hand of "A Master." It is, "_You must not speak to the Gentlemen of the Jury._" The exceptions which prove this rule are in favour of the Judge, the Counsel, the Clerk, and the Usher.

* * * * *

THE LOST SERGEANT.

[In a recent case before Mr. Justice CHITTY, a doubt was expressed as to whether there was still such an officer as the Sergeant-at-Arms attending the Courts. His services had not been required since 1879. After some inquiry, however, he was discovered.]

SERGEANT-AT-ARMS, where wert thou? Haply pensioned In some remote and solitary spot; By lips judicial never even mentioned, The Courts forgetting, by the Courts forgot. Far from thy kind in some provincial village, Didst thou devote thy hoary age to tillage?

Didst thou, perchance to lower heights declining Lately, as busman, strike for higher pay? Or, to the lash of fate thy soul resigning, Wear a red cap and drive a brewer's dray? Or didst thou on a hansom seek to fleece men, And scorn the fair, and battle with policemen?

Or, didst thou play (as often I have seen a Musician play in snow, or sleet, or rain) The cornet or expansive concertina Outside a public-house, and all in vain? Music hath charms, but public-house men mock it, Let loose an oath, but button up their pocket.

Or, didst thou write, as some have done, a shocker, And sell it on the stalls of Mr. SMITH? Or, write us versicles like FREDERICK LOCKER, Or, ANDREW-LANG-like, talk about a myth? Or, by thine own success amazed and staggered, Make Zulus make thee rich, like Mr. HAGGARD?

Or, like BUCHANAN, didst thou quite exhaust in One volume such abuse as fits a barge? Twitter and chirp like Mr. ALFRED AUSTIN, Or make a trifle mystically large, Like SWINBURNE, round whose verse the fog grows stronger Just in proportion as his lines are longer?

Whate'er thou didst, where'er thou wert, we found thee. "Behold!" we cried, "the Sergeant reappears." Let not our welcome overmuch astound thee, Whom we have missed through twelve unhappy years. Restored at length to England, home, and beauty, Sergeant-at-Arms advance, and do thy duty!

* * * * *

ANCIENT "BLOCK SYSTEM" AT ETON.

* * * * *

The 'Bus Strike being at an end, the newspapers will discontinue writing _de Omnibus rebus_, and must employ themselves upon _quibusdam aliis_.

* * * * *

"JUST A GOIN' TO BEGIN."--_The Fourth Centenary_ of the Foundation of Eton College is the Festival of the _First Saint 'Enery_.

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

_House of Commons, Monday, June 15_.--RICHARD CHAMBERLAIN back to-night, after long absence. Been up the Nile, calling on PTOLEMY and PHARAOH, and visiting scenes connected with the early life of Brother JOSEPH. Much enjoyed the trip; entered House to-night full of life and energy; suddenly pulled up; hair rose; flesh crept; blood chilled. Was it true? Could it be possible? Yes; no doubt about it. There was Prince ARTHUR still lounging on Treasury Bench with MADDEN in reserve. About a score of Members present, including WINDBAG SEXTON, looking on with his irritating smile of supreme superiority, whilst SAGE of QUEEN ANNE'S GATE moved rejection of Irish Land Purchase Bill.

"Why!" exclaimed Brother DICK, his hair still visibly rising, "when I was here last, weeks and months ago, they were discussing Irish Land Bill; Prince ARTHUR sprawled on Treasury Bench; LABBY was denouncing the Bill as pernicious; and SEXTON, having just sat down and just going to follow, looked on with sort of pitying toleration of other people who assumed to know anything of the Bill. Do I dream, or are there visions about? Think I'll go and pinch JESSE COLLINGS, and see if I'm awake."

Yes; wide awake; no mistake about the situation; still harping on the Irish Land Bill; but, thank a merciful Providence, this is the last night. JOHN MORLEY, who never shrinks from call of duty, rises, and makes one of those formal, official, somewhat tiresome protests, recapitulating objections which everyone only too familiar with through this gruesome spring and saddened summer. Then SAGE OF QUEEN ANNE'S GATE cracks a few jokes; MORTON appears on scene; attempt made to Count Out; talk kept going through dinner hour. At eleven o'clock Prince ARTHUR rises; benches fill up; then, when everyone ready for Division, strangers in Gallery startled by mighty roar of execration; looking round with startled gaze in search of explanation, discover at corner-seat below Gangway a dapper figure uplifted on supernaturally high-heeled boots, with trousers tightly drawn to display proportions of limbs that would have made _Sim Tappertit_ green with envy; a black frock coat, buff waistcoat, coloured tie, a high collar, a wizened countenance, just now wrinkled with spasmodic contortion, kindly meant for an ingratiating smile.

This is SEYMOUR KEAY. House may roar at him as the dog that crosses the Epsom Course when the bell rings for the Derby is howled at. He has, in return for the contumely, only a smile, a deprecatory wave of the hand and a speech. House keeps up the roar; KEAY waves his ringed hand, nods pleasantly at the SPEAKER, and at anything approaching a lull, shouts half a sentence at top of his voice. For full ten minutes contest continued. Then SPEAKER rises; KEAY sits down, glad of interval of rest, and hopeful that SPEAKER is about to rebuke his interrupters.

"The question is," said the SPEAKER, "that this Bill be now read a Third Time." Before KEAY realised situation, House is cleared for Division, and his final speech on Land Purchase Bill remains unspoken.

_Business done._--Irish Land Bill read a Third Time by 225 votes against 96.

_Tuesday._--GORST gave House to-night thorough surprise. The SQUIRE of MALWOOD brought on Manipur business; moved Resolution asking for more papers. Incidentally indicted the Government at home and in India. GORST put up to reply. An average Minister would have made an ordinary speech; GORST's reply accepted by common consent as the most extraordinary ever heard from the Treasury Bench since DIZZY left it. Instead of evading responsibilities, colouring facts, doing what Ministers usually do when in a fix, GORST simply, boldly, cynically, told the truth. The SENAPATTI of MANIPUR was an ambitious, capable, popular man who might breed mischief for the rule of the EMPRESS of INDIA. So the SENAPATTI must be got rid of at earliest possible moment, and in most absolutely complete fashion. Arbitrary this; tyrannical perhaps; unjust possibly. None of GORST's business to defend or extenuate it. All he could say was it is not a new thing; done wherever British flag waves under foreign skies; in New Zealand with the Maori King; in South Africa with CETEWAYO; in Egypt with ARABI; in the Soudan with ZEBEHR. "In India," said GORST, leaning his elbow lightly on the table, "they have always hated and discouraged independent and original talent; always loved and promoted mediocrity."