Chapter 2

_Culch._ The place appears to excite Miss PRENDERGAST's enthusiasm, at all events! [_Sighs._

_Podb._ Rath-er! But then she's no end of a classical swell, you know! [_Sighs._

_Culch._ (_putting his arm through PODBURY's._) Ah, well, my dear PODBURY, one mustn't expect too much, must one?)

_Podb._ I _don't_, old chap--only I'm afraid _she_ does. Suppose we toddle back to the hotel, eh? Getting near _table d'hôte_ time.

[_They go out arm-in-arm._

* * * * *

'ARRY IN ROME AND LONDON.

A kind Correspondent calls _Mr. Punch's_ attention to the fact that 'ARRY the Ubiquitous crops up even in the Classics, as ARRIUS, in fact, in _Carmen_ lxxxiv. of CATULLUS. How proud 'ARRY will be to hear of his classical prototype! Our Correspondent "dropping into verse," exclaims:--

Yes! Your Cockney is eternal; ARRIUS speaks in 'ARRY still: Vaunts 'is "hincome" by paternal "Hartful" tricks hup 'Olborn 'Ill.

How well he is justified may be seen by a glance at the text of CATULLUS:--

DE ARRIO.

"C_h_ommoda" dicebat, si quando commoda vellet Dicere, et "_h_insidias" ARRIUS insidias: Et tum miritice sperabat se esse locutum. Cum, quantum poterat, dixerat "_h_insidias." Credo, sic mater, sic Liber avunculus ejus, Sic maternus avus dixerit, atque avia. CATULLUS, _Carmen_ lxxxiv.

Which--for the benefit of 'ARRY himself, who is not perhaps familiar with the "Lingo Roruano"--though he may know something of a "Romano" dear to certain young sportsmen, though not dearer to them than other caterers,--may thus be _very_ freely adapted:--

'ARRY to _H_oxford gives the aspirate still He cruelly denies to 'Ighgate 'Ill; Yet deems in diction he can ape the "Swell," And "git the 'ang of it" exceeding well. Doubtless his sire, the 'atter, and his mother, The hupper 'ousemaid, so addressed each other; For spite of all that wrangling Board Schools teach, There seems heredity in Cockney speech.

* * * * *

FREDERICK THE GREAT AT BURLINGTON HOUSE.--"Bravo, Sir President of the Royal Academy!" says _Mr. Punch_, U.P.B.B., enthusiastically; "a splendid lecture, Sir, that of yours last Thursday, given to the architectural and other Academical students. who, acting upon your advice, should be each one the architect of his own fortune. Your sharply dashed-off portrait of The Grand Monarque, the 'Roi Soleil, majestic in the many-storey'd wig,'--the King being built up quite mon-architecturally,--'which encircled his retreating brow,' was masterly. More power to your elbow, Sir FREDERICK--that is, if you require it. _Mr. Punch_, Universal President of Brother Brushes, fraternally and cordially salutes you."

* * * * *

LATEST IN MASSAGE.--Our friend, Mrs. RAM, says she will not be "sham pooh'd;" she will be either really pooh'd, or not pooh'd at all.

* * * * *

"THE BIG BIG D." ENCORED.

MR. W.S. GILBERT ought to have been engaged as Counsel in the _Duplany_ v. _Duplany_ divorce case, when, attired in his wig, gown, and hands--ARTHUR SULLIVAN's full hands of course--he could have put the question which Mr. GILL had to make a pint of putting, i.e., as to the occasional use of strong language. Set librettically, "_Firenza la bella_" would have answered in her sweetest strain and with her most bewitching Florentine manner, "I never use a big big D." To her the Counsel, not Mr. GILL but Mr. GIL-BERT, would have retorted musically, "What '_never_'?'" To him the fair Witness, replying on consideration, "Well,--hardly ever!" Then the chorus, led by the Judge, Sir FRANCIS JEUNE, and joined in by all the Jeuniors of his Court, would have wound up this portion of the proceedings, if not harmoniously, at least tunefully. For future reference, it would be known as "the Big Big D-ivorce Case." How such occasional musical outbursts would lighten the labours of the Court through many a tedious case! And in a _cause un peu célèbre_ like this, where there is a crammed house and enthusiastic audience ready to take every point, and risk possible expulsion rather than remain quiet, what a relief such a burst of song would be to everybody's pent-up feelings and bottled-up excitement. The comedy is all very well, but the finale is tragic, the last scene of all being from the historical subject with modern application representing "MARIUS seated among the ruins" of what might have been a happy domestic life.

* * * * *

A PANNICK IN GILDHALL!

We've jist bin and had sitch a Pannick in the City as we ain't not had since the prowd and orty Portogeese threttened to stop any more old Port from leaving of their shores, unless we guv 'em up ever so much of the hinside of Afrikey. Ah, that was a pannick that was, and all us Waiters felt it severially, but her Majesty's Guvernment, seeing at wunce the sollem natur of the threat, made such terrems as settled the hole affair, and Port went down as ushal.

Well that was bad enuff in all conshense, but it was nothink to what we has all bin threttened with, from the Lord MARE on his throne of power to the umblest waiter of his royal estaberlishmunt. I herd ony last week from the Gildall Beedle, so it must be trew, that ever so many of what's called Comishunners of Suers had cum a tearing down stairs from their place up above, a cussin and a swearin like mad, becoz the Kumpany as was a jest beginnin for to lite up our streets with Lectrissity. had writtin for to say as they coodn't get it dun for more nor another year. Well that was bad enutf for them as likes that tell-tail lite, "but wuss remanes behind," as the Pote says; and I reelly ardly xpecs to be beleeved when I says, as they threttened not to lite up the onered Manshun Ouse to the werry last! and as the gas has all a bin taken away, there wooden have been not no lites, and consequently not no Dinner in that grand Ome of Horspitallerty, not for twelve long weary hungry munse!

The shudder as run thro Gildhall when this was fust menshund, the Beedel tells me, was sumthink quite orful, and the langwidge used, ewen by anshant Deppertys, sumthink not to remember, but sumthink to forget as soon as posserbel.

However, a gentle reminder from them as could do what they threttind, whether it was six months' hard, or suppenshun from wun of their own tall, red lamp postesses, brort them all to their sewen senses, and everythink is to be reddy for the fust State Bankwet at the reglar hour on the reglar day; and so the dedly wroth of the grand old Copperashun is apeezed, and there is no longer enny tork of a mighty band of hindignent Welshers a marching up to Town to awenge the dedly hinsult with which their poplar Monnark was threttined!

Wun of our werry cleverest Depputys said to me.--"Ah, Mr. ROBERT, if our ennemys had reelly xtinguished all our light, I shoud indeed have said, with the Pote, _Habsent Homen!_"

I didn't kno a bit what he meant, but I rayther think it were sumthink seesonnabel about Ome sweet Ome, or about the likker "habsinth," wich I don't hold with. But I quite agreed with him.

ROBERT.

* * * * *

A ROYAL "HAPPY THOUGHT" IN DECEMBER.--The Promise of MAY.

* * * * *

* * * * *

"ENGLAND, HOME, AND BEAUTY!"

["I am quite proud to think that my son marries one who was born in this country, has been educated in this country, and has the feelings of an Englishwoman."--_H.R.H. the Prince of Wales at the Civil Service Dinner_.]

The Prince's word will strike a chord Of sympathy and pleasure In English hearts. Not from abroad Young CLARENCE brought his treasure. He finds his MAY in British mead; 'Tis _Punch's_ pleasant duty The old chorus once again to lead, "For England, Home, and Beauty!"

England!--the fair betrothed was born Within the seas that bind us; Home!--not from far court-precincts torn, This Princess comes to find us. Beauty!--well, look upon that face, Whilst PUNCHIUS Cupid hovers, With crowning wreath and genial grace, Above the Royal lovers.

Fair home-grown flower, bright English MAY, Whose promise cheers December, And who will make "wild March" so gay; _Punch_ can right well remember. Betrothals many, bridals too, Your lover's sire's among them, And with a loyalty frank yet true Has generally sung them.

And so for you he bath a stave, Latest of the bright bevy. On gentle hearts and spirits brave The toll of love you'll levy. We trust that fortune may prove fair, And life's long pathway rosy, And love attend the Royal pair, The young "_Promessi Sposi._"

An English bridal it will be When March brings round the spring time, And English hearts will hail with glee The coming of the ring-time. _Punch_--like his Prince--is "proud to think" It then will be his duty, Once more the fine old toast to drink-- "For England, Home, and Beauty!"

* * * * *

TWOPENCE PLAIN.--A PENNY COLOURED.

MR. PUNCH, HONOURED SIR,

I have just received a copy of _The Almanack_, which, if I may say so, is worthy of the approach to the close of "the so-called Nineteenth Century." Not to go further into particulars, I should say that "A Doll's Diary" will be hard to beat in contemporary Christmas literature.

It was, Sir, not with the intention of making this obvious remark that I break in upon your reflections. My purpose was moved by discovering on the front corner of this work of Literature and Art the legend, "Price 6d.; _Inland postage_, 2d." Looking at the postal cover which lightly bore the treasure o'er land and sea to this ancient town, I discovered, that coming under the "foreign postage rate," 1½d. had served the turn. Whence it appears, that had I, as usual at this season of the year, been at my country address, to be found in _Dod_, the _Almanack_ would have cost me, or someone else (it is beside the argument), 2d. Whereas, being hundreds of miles away from the placid pastures that surround The Kennel, Berks, the postage is 25 per cent. less in amount. In one case, where the larger sum and the less amount of labour were concerned, the English Post-Office, taking all the money, charge 2d.; in the other, calling in the assistance of Belgium and Germany, and of course sharing with them the plunder, 1½d. is held to be the fair recompense for the immensely extended labour. Isn't this something in the way of reversal of the ordinary trade axiom, as who should say "Twopence Plain; a Penny, Coloured"?

In its immediate application it is a small thing. People privileged to receive _Punch's Almanack_ through the post will not quibble over a half-penny. But it is evident that a system which embodies an arrangement that needs only to be stated to have its absurdity demonstrated, wants looking after.

I beg to give my friend, the new Postmaster-General, notice that, as soon as the House meets, I shall put a question on the subject. In the meanwhile, and always I am, honoured Sir, your obliged and obedient servant,

TOBY, M.P.

_Kaiserbad, Aachen, Monday_.

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* * * * *

POPULAR SONGS RE-SUNG.

Perhaps a version "up to date" (as the slang goes) of _Our Village_, may interest the supporters of the Statesman Mr. ACLAND, without annoying the admirers of the poet WAL PINK.

NO. IV.--OUR VILLAGE.

AIR--_"THE VILLAGE ON THE 'SLOW AND DIRTY' LINE."_

For centuries the Village was maintained, without cessation, As "a Squire and Parson's paddock," just to keep poor yokels down, But all that is to be altered, at the Radical's instigation, We're settling on a village which shall have the charms of town. It's shaped on Democratic lines, it is _in nubibus_ yet, But when Reform's set going, it's a horse that does not stop. The House o' Commons has pronounced, and though old Tories fuss, yet All understand the tyrant has the tip to shut up shop.

_CHORUS._

In the Village, new Village, a healthy little spot, The home of rural Hygiene, where nasty smells are not, Where HODGE shan't be the thrall Of the Vicarage and the Hall, In the Village shaped on Democratic lines!

There bobbing to their "betters" shall not be an institution With the Jemmies and the Jessamies, as in the good old day; There "Washhouses" shall civilise chawbacons--by ablution, And Drink-shops shall not freely tithe the ploughman's paltry pay. There shall be a Parish Council by the householders elected, Who will snub "the Village tyrant" and will cut the Parson's comb; And when once 'tis constituted such reform may be expected That poor HODGE in all sincerity may sing his "_Home, Sweet Home!_"

_Chorus_.--In the Village, new Village, the sanitary spot, A small self-governed commune with full powers to "allot," A Free Library for all, And a handsome Meeting Hall, In the Village shaped on Democratic lines!

There the Labourer shall not half-starve on "swankey." and thin pottage, With a prospect of the Workhouse when no longer he can work; But shall have a fragrant pigstye, and a sanitary cottage, And a voice in local business which the big-wigs cannot burke. The rural working-man shall superintend his children's schooling, And control long ill-used "charities," and champion "common rights," And, in fact, there'll be an end to Squire's sole sway and Parson's fooling, And the rustic's sole hope-beacon shall no more be "London's Lights."

_Chorus_.--In the Village, new Village, &c., &c.

There the peasant politician with the Guardian shall grapple, And keep up the rural standard, and keep down the local rates; The haughty Church no longer there shall lord it o'er the Chapel, And the Voluntary School shall find the level it so hates. In short, with Local Government invested, the whole Village Shall grow vigorous, and virtuous, and prosperous, and proud, And free from Landlord pressure, and the Parson's petty pillage, The peasants shall no longer to the slums of London crowd.

_Chorus_.--From the Village, new Village, a happy little spot, A home of peace and plenty, where oppression may not plot; Where there's room enough for all. And the "hind" is _not_ a "thrall," In the Village shaped on Democratic lines!

* * * * *

A SAFE NOVEL.

(_WITH INTERPOLATED NOTES BY OUR OWN LEGAL ADVISER._)

CHAPTER I.--THE LOVERS' PARTING.

The sun was setting behind the towers of the church of Greenborough-on-the-Driblet.

[It must be clearly and distinctly understood that this village is not intended to refer to any parish with the word "green" introduced in the title--all incumbents of such livings being the most honourable and distinguished of men.]

Two persons were bidding one another adieu. The first was a man in the prime of life wearing a suit of tweeds.

[Please note that the name of the tailor is not given, and it is not to be assumed for a single moment that this refers to any individual in particular.]

The girl, for she was only a girl, wore a costume of almost puritanical simplicity.

[Again no dressmaker is singled out for discussion. It is a purely fancy portrait.]

They were both in tears. For the hour had come for their parting.

[It is necessary to state that by "parting" no reference is made to any existing firm of hair-dressers.]

For a moment they were silent, watching Phoebus as he descended in his glory of purple and gold.

[This refers to the mythical God of Day, and is not to be confounded with a member of a well-known firm of manufacturers of blacking.]

Then they spoke to one another.

"ZOZIMUS," she murmured, softly, "and is this our last meeting?"

[The name of ZOZIMUS was selected for the hero because it is an uncommon one, and consequently unlikely to be confounded with any more frequently-used designation. If by an unlucky chance there _is_ a ZOZIMUS, he is assured that the coincidence is purely accidental.]

"I am afraid it must be so, my ZULUWOLFA," was the heartbroken response.

[Again the name has been chosen on the same lines as the selection of ZOZIMUS, and the explanation above given may be taken as having reference to both.]

"And so you are going across the sea in a boat?" she queried, trying to smile, in spite of her blinding tears.

[No boat in particular is intended, and we have the author's authority for saying that he has the greatest respect for every official connected with the shipping interest.]

"Yes," he returned, sadly, "it is my father's wish, and I trust that in a new world I shall find greater prosperity than I have been able to achieve in dear old England."

[No reference is made in the above to any weekly publications, although, perhaps the _World_ and _England_ may have been taken as titles for Saturday journals. Before passing this passage, we received the assurance of the author that he felt the deepest esteem for the Editors of the periodicals thus inadvertently mentioned.]

"Well, my beloved, you will soon see me; and, dead or alive, I shall be by your side in the spirit."

[This passage is not intended to single out any particular firm of distillers]

"We shall meet again," he cried, pressing her frail form to his breast. "Indeed we shall meet again."

[It must not be assumed that there has been a misprint in the above passage, and that reference is made to any particular firm of butchers.]

And so they parted!

(_To be continued in our next, after consultation with our Solicitor._)

* * * * *

WITHOUT THE COMPLIMENTS OF THE SEASON.--A few days since the Justices of South Shields sentenced a vagrant verging upon seventy years of age, to fourteen days imprisonment with hard labour--a matter to which attention was called when the Coroner held an inquest in the gaol on the poor old fellow's body. It would be interesting to know the names of these "un-worthies," so that they might be gibbeted as a contrast to the sentiments that will prevail when Christmas ushers in a time of peace and good-will!

* * * * *

A STORY OF THE SEA (_told on the Beach at Brighton_).--"Fine day for a sail, Sir!"

* * * * *

* * * * *

TOLD IN TAGS.

We have recently been favoured by a communication from a firm of Publishers, which informs us that, in a story sent for review, "by an oversight of the binder," the Epilogue was omitted, and inclosing that interesting document. We have perused the four pages with so much pleasure, that we suggest that, instead of writing the whole story, novelists, in future, should only publish the final chapter, which might be beneficially compressed into a few lines. As a lead, we print a few conclusions, to serve as models:--

_Specimen of a Happy Ending_.--And so there was nothing more to do but to get married, and consequently EDWIN led no happier bride to the altar than his much persecuted and greatly tried ANGELINA. So the bells of Tinkleton rang out their merriest chimes as the sun went down on the stately towers of Castle Sympleton.

_Specimen of an Unhappy Ending_.--So, at peace with all the world, still holding the hand she loved so well, and smiling a smile that brought tears into the eyes of the good old Colonial Bishop, FLORA faded away into the Golden Dream she knew so well!

_Specimen of a Mysterious Ending_.--And so HUGH, carrying a lamp in his right hand, and grasping the blade of his sword in his left, entered the cave of which he had heard so much. Will he ever return? Who can tell?

_Specimen of a Comic Ending_.--"So it was you, after all!" cried the Cheesemonger, with a shout of laughter.

EGERTON SWELLINGTON smiled an assent.

"Then all I can say," continued the worthy trader, "is, that a miss is as good as a mile."

And, for once in his life, Mr. DOUBLECHIN was absolutely right!

_Specimen of the Poetical Ending_.--So with the blue-bells sighing soft music, and the stars chanting their soothing lullaby, the sweet soul of MARIA realised the truth that--

'Tis better to have loved and lost, Than never to have loved at all.

_Specimen of the Shocker's Ending_.--And with a gasp and a reel, Sir RALPH fell back, back, back, down the precipice, and an hour later was found by the patrolling coast-guardsman a quivering mass of senseless humanity!

_Specimen of the Christmas Ending_.--And so, linked hand in hand, father and mother, son and daughter, husband and wife, nephew and niece, bowed their heads beneath the holly and mistletoe, and wished one another, with a heartiness that told volumes, "A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!"

* * * * *

QUERIES FOR CAMBRIDGE EXAM. PAPER.--

1. If the Vice-Chancellor's authority to punish immorality within the bounds of the University town of Cambridge is to be done away with, will he still retain the then quite superfluous title of _Vice_-Chancellor?

2. On the abolition of "The Spinning-House," as plucked candidates are often spoken of as men who were "spun" for such-and-such an examination, might not the Senate-House be known as "The Spinning-House"?

* * * * *

* * * * *

BY GEORGE!

[In a recent libel action, brought against an author by an African merchant, Mr. GEORGE MEREDITH was called as a witness. He said:--

"The story in dispute passed through his hands as reader for the publishers. Asked in cross-examination if he thought that the opening of the story relating to the hero's mother did not offend against the canons of good taste, the witness answered that it was the attempt of a writer of serious mind to be humorous. It might be almost called a stereotype of that form of the element of humour. It was a failure but still passed with the public.--The Judge: A kind of elephantine humour?--The Witness: Quite so. I did not like it, but one would have to object to so much."

There the report of Mr. MEREDITH'S evidence ends. Exigencies of space apparently caused the omission of a great deal of it. Fortunately it is in our power to supply this deficiency.--ED.]

_The Judge_. Quite so, Mr. MEREDITH. I may say for myself that I fully understand you. But perhaps it would be well to explain yourself a _leetle_ more clearly for the benefit of the jury.