Chapter 2

_Hyp._ MAUD! You might at _least_ wait until Mr. CULCHARD has--

_Maud._ Oh, but he _did_--weeks ago, at Bingen. And at Lugano, too, the other day, he spoke out tolerable plain. I guess he didn't wish any secret made about it--_did_ you, Mr. CULCHARD?

_Culch._ I--ah--this conversation is rather ... If you'll excuse me-- [_Escapes with as much dignity as he can command._

_Maud._ Well, my dear,--that's the sort of self-denying hairpin _he_ is! What do you think of him _now_?

_Hyp._ I do not think so highly of him, I confess. His renunciation was evidently less prompted by consideration for his friend than by a recollection--tardy enough, I am afraid--of the duty which bound him to _you_, dearest. But if you had seen and heard him, as I did, you would not have doubted the _reality_ of the sacrifice, whatever the true reason may have been. For myself, I am conscious of neither anger nor sorrow--my heart, as I told you, was never really affected. But what must it be to _you_, darling!

_Maud._ Well, I believe I'm more amused than anything.

_Hyp._ Amused! But surely you don't mean to have anything more to do with him?

_Maud._ My dear girl, I intend to have considerable more to do with him before I'm through. He's under vow for _me_ now, anyway, and I don't mean he should forget it, either. He's my monkey, and he's got to jump around pretty lively, at the end of a tolerable short chain, too. And I guess, if it comes to renouncing, all the magnanimity's going to be on _my_ side this time!

_IN AN AVENUE._

_Culch._ (_to himself, as he walks hurriedly on_). I only saved myself in time. I don't _think_ MAUD noticed anything--she couldn't nave been so innocent and indifferent if she had.... And HYPATIA won't enlighten her any further now--after what she knows. It's rather a relief that she _does_ know.... She took it very well, poor girl--_very_ well. I expect she is really beginning to put up with PODBURY--I'm sure I _hope_ so, sincerely!

* * * * *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

"I dearly love reading a ghost-story," quoth the Baron, "when, as the song says, 'The lights are low, And the flickering shadows, Softly come and go.' And I did hope that _Cecilia de Noël_ was going to be just the very sort of book for a winter's fireside. Disappointed. There is a ghost in it, and there's _Cecilia de Noël_ (good Christmassy name, isn't it?) who instructs the ghost in his neglected Catechism; for the ghost is as much an Atheist as the unbelieving Sadducee in this same story, who, after all, is not converted. 'Alas! Poor Ghost!' Very poor ghost! Bring me another ghost!" cries the Baron. No other ghost is forthcoming to the invocation, but a book is placed in his hands entitled _Fourteen to One_. The Baron was about to dismiss it as a betting book--judging by its title--when his eye caught the name of ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS as authoress. So he read many of the short stories therein. She has in many places the touch of DICKENS. All are good; but for pathos, keen observation, and dramatic surprise, "give me," says the Baron, emphatically, "the short story of _The Madonna of the Tubs_." Admirable! Those who take and act upon the Baron's tip, will do well to ask for _Fourteen to One_, and see that they get it.

What are the Baron's sentiments as to Christmas things? He refused to have anything to say to games and cards. Cards--well, we all know whose books some puritanical party said _they_ were. But these comic and artistic Christmas Cards of RAPHAEL TUCK do not come into that category; and same is to be said of Messrs. HILDESHEIMER's, so there's an end on't. Henceforth, says the Baron, "No Cards."

"Come to me, O ye children," as some one sings--ARTHUR CECIL for choice--and it might be adapted for the occasion by the Publishers of _Chatterbox_, in which box there's a prize. Messrs. ROUTLEDGE go in for the old, old tales. They've kindly given _Mother Hubbard_ a new dress; and as for their Panorama of the "Beasteses," it is like a picture-walk in the Zoo. _Some Historic Women_, well selected by DAVENPORT ADAMS, who should have styled it _Christmas Eves by Adams_. With Mrs. MOLESWORTH's _Bewitched Lamp_ the Baron's Assistant is much pleased. Pictures ought to have been in oil, and there should have been a Wickéd Fairy in it,--but there isn't.

My "Co." reports that Mrs. GRIMWOOD's long-expected book, _My Three Years in Manipur_ (BENTLEY), is worthy of the theme, and adds a fresh laurel to the chaplet worn by the lady on whose breast the QUEEN pinned the Red Cross. The moving story is told with a simplicity that looks like the development of the highest art. But the heroine of Manipur is unmistakably artless. She is content to jot down, as if she were writing a letter home, her impressions of what she sees, and her account of what passes before her eyes. She has the gift of reproducing with a few strokes of the pen, portraiture of anything that has struck her. The only thing missed is detailed report of her own brave bearing through the fearful night when the Residency was attacked, and during the dreadful days that followed on the flight towards Cachar. No one reading Mrs. GRIMWOOD's narrative would guess what splendid part she played in that tragedy. Fortunately that has been told elsewhere, and the omission is an added charm to a book that has many others--including a portrait of the author.

THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS AND CO.

* * * * *

CIVIL SERVICE EXHIBITION.

DEAR MR. PUNCH,--The Military Exhibition was such a success, and the Naval Exhibition was such a successor, that we Government Clerks invoke your powerful aid to help us to establish next year a Civil Service Exhibition. The Public have really no idea what wondrous curiosities there are in the Civil Service, and would, I feel sure, be amused and instructed at a well-organised and representative Exhibition. At 10.15 A.M. they would see real live Clerks sign real Attendance-Books, and insert (real or unreal) times of arrival. In the course of the morning there might be an Exhibition of Civil Servants over sixty-five years of age, who didn't want to retire, with a similar number of Civil Servants, of fifty-five years of age, who didn't want them to stay. In the afternoon, in the Arena, would daily be attempted the difficult feat of proceeding from the Second Division to the Higher Division. The obstacles would be represented by real Treasury Clerks and Civil Service Commissioners, holding Orders in Council and Treasury Minutes; and the Clerk successful in performing the feat might be created a Duke.

In one of the kiosks a lecture on _"Sick Leave and how to spend it," by the Earl and the Doctor_, might be delivered hourly. In another kiosk, official C.B.'s would be on show; Jubilee C.B.'s being classed together on one side, and special prominence being given to those C.B.'s who hadn't applied for the honour, and to those who had obtained it for real services otherwise unrecognised. After dark the "Treasury Ring" might join hands and dance round the flashing light of their own unassisted intellect.

The different refreshment rooms (furnished by the Office of Works) would be classified according to the varying rates of Subsistence Allowance in force in the Service. Here the dinner for the £1-a-day man--there the tea for the 10s.-a-day man. Special luncheon rates for those not absent from home at night, but absent for more than ten hours.

Visitors might be searched on arrival and departure by real Custom House Officers. This would be sure to make it popular. Please, dear _Mr. Punch_, do help us. Yours, &c.,

A GOVERNMENT CLERK.

* * * * *

ENGLISH OPERA AS SHE ISN'T SUNG.

It seems impossible to support a Royal English Opera House with its special commodity of English Opera, that is, Opera composed by an Englishman to an Englishman's _libretto_, and played by English operatic singers. _Ivanhoe_, a genuine English Opera, by a genuine English Composer (with an Irish name), produced with great _éclat_, has, after a fair run and lots of favour, been _Doyl-écarté_, in order to make room for the _Basoche_, an essentially French Opera, by French Composer and Librettists, done, of course, into English, so as to be "understanded of the people." The _Basoche_ has "caught on," and our friends in front, including Composer, Librettist, and Middlemen--DRURIOLANUS, who bought it, and DOYLY CARTY, who bought it of Sir DRURI--are all equally pleased and satisfied. Considered as a matter of business, what signifies the nationality as long as the spec pays?--_tout est là._ Only why retain the differentiating title of "English" for the establishment? Why not call it "The Cosmopolitan Opera House"? Of course this applies, nowadays, to Covent Garden Theatre, which is no longer the Italian Opera House, but simply the Covent Garden Opera during the Operatic Season, when French, English, Italian, and German Operas are played by a Babel of singers. By the way, while on the subject of nomenclature, why not "The Royal Babel Opera House"?

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE LITTLE GERMANIA MAGNATE;

OR, TRYING TO SWAY THE SCEPTRE.

["_Suprema lex regis voluntas._" Words reported to have been written by the German Emperor in the Visitors' Book of the City Council at Munich.]

No more let men chatter of such a small matter As Ladies Magnetic, with mystical forces, Whose billiard-cue business strikes with sheer dizziness Muscular Miloes who're game to lift horses. As MITCHELL the bulky was made to look sulky By slight Mrs. ABBOTT, the Georgian Mystery, She is struck silly by Behemoth BILLY, That young Teuton Titan, the toughest in history.

O Oracle Mighty (though vocally flighty), Great Creature, omniscient (if a bit youthful), Panjandrum-plus-CÆSAR, Herculean Teaser Of tendencies vicious, or tame, or untruthful! You mastered the Moral while sucking your coral-- You set the world right--in idea--in your cradle. Omnipotent Bumble, our pride let us humble, And take our opinions--like soup--from _your_ ladle!

You _are_ such a fellow! The sages turn yellow, The wits all go pallid, and so do the heroes; Big Brontes grow jealous when _you_ blow the bellows, A fig for your CÆSARS, ISKANDERS, and NEROS! You lick them all hollow, great Vulcan-Apollo, Sole lord of our consciences, lives, arts, and armies! But (like Mrs. A., Sir) 'twould floor you to say, Sir, Where, what, in the mischief the source of your charm is!

Say, how _do_ you do it? That Georgian's cue, it, Compared with your sceptre, is just a mere withy. You quietly front in with that calm "_Voluntas_," (Expressed for our guidance in epigrams pithy) You hint you can rule us, and guide us, and school us, "All off your own bat," without Clergy or Minister, Giving swift gruel to stage-prank, or duel, Or any thing else _you_ think stupid or sinister.

O Autocrat fateful, we ought to be grateful For such an infallible, all-potent party, At _this_ time of day too, to show us the way to-- Wherever you'd lead us, with confidence hearty. And as for those duffers, your confidence suffers To tug at the sceptre, with vain thoughts of swaying it, What can it matter? "The Magnet" can shatter Their strength; at its pleasure controlling or staying it.

In vain "Blood and Iron," with foes that environ Your sceptre, smart Press-man, or Socialist spouter, May struggle together; you hold them in tether, Or so you proclaim, you, whom foes call "the Shouter." The pose is imposing, if ere the scene's closing, The "Little Germania Magnate" gets beaten; Well, put at the worst, Sir, you are not the first, Sir, Who playing the Thraso has humble-pie eaten!

* * * * *

"DINNER FORGET."--Lord RANDOLPH is coming home by a Union Company's Steamer. The distinguished Unionist is to have a special cook to attend to him. Does this mean that he returns as a Special COOK's Tourist?

* * * * *

AN ELECTION ECHO.

GLADSTONIAN LAMBERT, Of course, as he should, This last bye-election Considered was good. But Unionist BULLER Has said, on reflection, That to him it seemed rather A Good-Bye election!

* * * * *

NEW WORK.--_A Merry England in a Cat's Cradle_, by the Author of _Across England in a Dog-Cart_.

* * * * *

A VERY REVOLTING PLACE.--Brazil.

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* * * * *

OUR FINANCIAL COLUMN.

I have been forced by the enormous increase of my business to take larger offices, and to engage two hundred additional clerks to carry on my immense correspondence. I merely mention this as it may be satisfactory to my countless well-wishers. But of course the old address--"CROESUS: London" will still find me. I publish below a selection from the letters received during the week.

(1.) SIR,--You informed me in a private communication, that the Patent Spills Manufacturing Co. stock was a splendid investment. Acting on this, I bought. From that moment, Spills have fallen steadily. Kindly explain.

Yours,

INDIGNANT.

[To this I can only answer, that the complaint is ludicrous, and preposterous. If you had bought on the day I advised, and sold out ten minutes afterwards, you would have realised a handsome profit of one farthing a share. Moreover, how can anything fall steadily? I never did, which shows what a fool "INDIGNANT" must be.

CROESUS.]

(2.) SIR,--I send £22,000 19s. 8¾d., which I wish tied up as tightly as possible in the Unlimited Packthread Stock Company, which you say is as safe as a house. Let me know which particular house you mean. The money belongs (or belonged) to my Maiden Aunt.

Yours sincerely,

BALIK RASH.

[Consider it done, my dear Sir; consider it done. I return the three farthings, for which I have no possible use. The rest is invested. Transfers await your signature at my new office.

CROESUS.]

(3.) SIR,--I have saved £4 5s. 2d. during the last twenty years, and now send it to you in the Automatic Toast and Muffin Distributor Co., which I see guarantees a return of 500 per cent., with an anticipated increase of 200 per cent. from the sale of concessions in suburban districts. "The Muffins," you say, "will always be kept at toasting point, and, by a novel and ingenious arrangement, a perpetual supply of the best butter will spread itself over every Muffin as it is distributed to the Public." I like this very much. Pray, therefore, place me on toast to the enclosed amount.

Yours,

ONE IN THE SLOT.

[Have done what you wish. You have already cleared profit of over £500. We shall add buns and crumpets to our business to-morrow, and tea-cakes on the following day, so as to place it in everybody's power to take the cake, if he wants to.

CROESUS.]

I have little more to add this week, but I think it only right to hint that I am engaged in perfecting the details of a scheme which will revolutionise finance. I am not allowed, _at present_, to enter into full particulars, but I may say that I have been in close conference with the very highest person in the world of finance, and that he is to submit my plan to the next Cabinet Council. Briefly, when my scheme is floated, Consols will immediately go to par, and will be converted into a security bearing ten per cent. interest--and this without a single penny being added to the tax-payers' burdens. I have been authorised by the officials of the Treasury to receive any investments that my readers may offer. Now, therefore, is your time. Next week I may have to take a short holiday, owing to the strain on my nerves, caused by my numerous anxieties. But the good work will go on as before.

"CROESUS LONDON."

* * * * *

GLORY AT THE LOWEST PRICE.

[There is nothing whatever to hinder a civilian from organising and managing an efficient army, and there are at any given moment a score of men in the City of London, who could carry out the work with perfect ease.--_Daily Paper, November 19, 1891_.]

SCENE--_The Army Universal Provision Company Limited (Managing Director, Mr. BLACKLEY). Enter Recruit in Department No. 1. He looks round him surprised at the business-like activity that greets him on every side._

_Foreman_ (_politely_). Anything I can do for you, Sir, to-day? We have an assortment of Queen's Shillings fresh from the Mint. Curiosities, Sir, quite out of date, but interesting. Can I tempt you?

_Recruit_ (_with some hesitation_). Well, I thought of joining the Army, and--

_Foreman_ (_interrupting_). Certainly, Sir. Doctor in that room. Magistrate in that. Be medically passed and sworn to allegiance while you wait. (_Ushers Recruit into various Departments--whence he emerges duly enrolled_.) And now, Sir, which branch of the Service would you like to see?

_Recruit_. Well, I did think of the Tenth Hussars.

_Foreman_ (_promptly_). Quite right, Sir. First-class Regiment, commanded by His Royal Highness Field Marshal the Prince of WALES. (_To Assistant._) Show this gentleman the way to the outfitting-room--Tenth Hussars.

[_Recruit in less than no time is fitted out. On his return to the Central Hall he is once more greeted by a principal official._

_Foreman_. Now, Sir, you would like to learn your drill?

_Recruit_. Well, yes--

_Foreman_. Quite so. We teach it in six easy lessons, at twelve shillings a lesson. You can pay for it either out of your reserved pay, or now. If the latter, we allow five per cent. discount.

_Recruit_ (_without hesitation_). I think I will pay it later.

_Foreman_ (_putting up his receipt-book_). Certainly, Sir, No difference to us. And now, Sir, perhaps you will take your lessons.

[_Recruit goes through a course which soon puts him to-rights. At the end he shakes Foreman warmly by the hand._

_Recruit_. You are sure that I really know my drill?

_Foreman_. Quite. Why, Sir, you are letter perfect. And now, is there anything more we can do for you?

_Recruit_. Well, I did join the Army with the intention of going to the wars.

_Foreman_ (_apologetically_). Very sorry, Sir, but we haven't the article on hand just at present. Sure to have some by-and-by. Is there anything else we can do for you, Sir?

_Recruit_. Well, failing a war, I should like a passage to India.

_Foreman_ (_in a deprecatory tone_). Well, Sir, frankly, we cannot recommend it. But if you have made up your mind, we must ask you to step over to the Waste Department. They settle such-like matters there. See over yonder, Sir, where that venerable General on crutches is. He has just got a Colonelcy, but he can't hold it very long, as he is over eighty! And now I must say adieu, as I have other pupils claiming my assistance. Good day!

[_Starts off, and prepares food for powder in other quarters. Curtain._

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* * * * *

* * * * *

THE BOARD ON BOTH SIDES.

SCENE--_A Railway Carriage. Present two Passengers discussing the Topics of the Day._

_First Passenger_. And then there's the School Board! I am on my way to record my vote.

_Second Pass._ And so am I. I hope, Sir, we are of both of the way of thinking?

_First Pass._ I hope so, too. My idea is to give the children of the poor every possible advantage. Let them learn all they can. Yes, Sir, let them learn all they can.

_Second Pass._ (_excitedly_). But, my dear Sir, what can be the good of that? It will be of no use to them in their future, and will only make them dissatisfied with their position.

_First Pass._ (_calmly_). Ah, my dear Sir, you evidently take a narrow view of the subject. Why should not the poor enjoy equality with the rich? It is only the accident of birth that divides the peasant from the Peer.

_Second Pass._ (_obstinately_). I do not care about the cause, I only look to the result--the rich _are_ divided from the poor. It is ridiculous that an orange-girl should play the piano, and a ploughman paint a picture.

_First Pass._ (_smiling_). I do not see why. Surely the poor should have their little amusements? And do we not have it on decent classical authority, "that Art polishes the manners, and renders them less ferocious!"

_Second Pass._ (_contemptuously_). Ah! You take a sentimental view of it! Believe me, the people would be all the better were they to receive a practical--a technical education--say were they to be taught how to sweep chimneys, or to blacken boots!

_First Pass._ (_complacently_). They will engage in both those useful industries with the greater _gusto_ if they know that when they are at leisure they can understand MACAULAY or enjoy BEETHOVEN.

_Second Pass._ (_with conviction_). But you must admit that there is a good deal of waste. Consider Mr. FORSTER calculated that the rate would be threepence in the pound, and now it's a shilling, and will go higher still! Remember that Londoners pay far more dearly than citizens of many provincial towns, for an article not one whit better.

_First Pass._ (_with, a genial smile_). Ah, I see you are quoting from the Press.

_Second Pass._ (_earnestly_). And why not? Is it true, or is it not, that money is squandered upon rotten buildings, upon excessive salaries to teachers, and upon the provision of refinements in education?

_First Pass._ (_smiling_). Still quoting! But if I admit that there is something in what you say, is it not always the case? Have we ever unmixed good, or unmixed evil? And I contend that the same advantages derivable from a School-Board education entirely compensate for a little loss.

_Second Pass._ (_rather out of temper_). Well, you take it calmly enough.

_First Pass._ (_amiably_). Why not? It is my theory that every child should have the best possible education. The infant should have enough mental food to last him for life. It is our duty that he should got it.

_Second Pass._ (_with irritation_). Well, at least you take an unselfish view of the case.

_First Pass._ (_smiling sweetly_). I don't see that! As a matter of fact, I am sufficiently successful not to care for competition. I believe that I am first-rate in my own walk; and, however the School Board may educate, they will not reach my standard.

_Second Pass._ (_drily_). I was not thinking of that, although it is a consideration. But how about the rates, my dear Sir--the rates?

_First Pass._ (_with a good-humoured laugh_). Oh, bother the rates! I don't see where they come in.

_Second Pass._ (_with ghastly jocularity_). But I do--by the front door.

_First Pass._ (_condescendingly_). Tut, tut! But what have the rates to do with the matter?

_Second Pass._ (_astonished_). Why, at a shilling in the pound and more to follow, you must admit they make a hole in a modest income?