Chapter 2

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TRYING TO THE TEMPER.--Mrs. R. says nothing can induce her to eat cross buns, as they are sure to disagree with her.

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OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

All who are interested in the theatrical celebrities of past times will do well to read a brief, indeed, a too brief paper, about DOROTHY JORDAN, written by FITZGERALD MOLLOY, for _The English Illustrated Magazine_ of this month. The Baron does not remember if THACKERAY touched on the story of this talented Actress in his Lectures on "_The Four Georges_;" but the sad finish to the brilliant career of Mrs. JORDAN could hardly have escaped the great Satirist as being one instance, among many, illustrating the wise King's advice as to "not putting your trust in Princes;" "or," for the matter of that, and in fairness, it must be added, "in any child of man." Poor DOROTHY, or DOLLY JORDAN! but now a Queen of "Puppets," and now--thus, a mere rag-dolly. Ah, CLARENCE!--"False, fleeting, perjured CLARENCE!" as SHAKSPEARE wrote of that other Duke in Crookback'd RICHARD's time, for whom the "ifs" and "ands" of life were resolved for ever in a final "butt."

In the issue for 1891 of that most interesting yearly Annual, _The Book-Worm_, for which the Baron, taking it up now and again, blesses ELLIOT STOCK, of Paternoster Row, there is a brief but interesting account of _The Annexed Prayer-Book_, which, after some curious chances and changes, was at last ordered to be photographed page by page, without being removed from the custody of Black Rod. "By means of an elaborate system of reflecting," the process of photographing was carried on in the House of Lords. It is satisfactory to all Book-worms to know that so important a work was not undertaken without even more than the usual amount of reflection.

THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.

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THE HAMLET IN THE HAYMARKET.

With Mr. TREE's impersonation of _Hamlet_ most London playgoers are by this time acquainted, though not yet familiar. It is a most interesting performance, especially to those who remember the inauguration of startling new departures by CHARLES FECHTER. The question for every fresh _Hamlet_ must always be, "How can I differentiate my _Hamlet_ from all previous _Hamlets_? What can I do that nobody has as yet thought of doing?" "To be or not to be" _Hamlet_, "that is the question"; whether 'tis better continuously to suffer the tortures of uncertainty as to what you might have achieved had you essayed the part, or to take up the study of it, and ceasing to shiver on the bank, leave off your damnable faces, and plunge in? Mr. TREE has plunged, and is going on swimmingly.

Mrs. TREE's _Ophelia_ sane, is charming. Her distraught _Ophelia_ is very mad indeed, and her method in her madness is excellent.

There is a curious monotony in some of the stage-business. Thus, _Ophelia_ pauses in her exit and comes up quietly behind the absent-minded Prince as if to play bo-peep with him: then, later on, after his apparently brutal treatment of her, _Hamlet_ returns, and, while he is stooping and in tears, he kisses her hair and runs away noiselessly as if this also were another part of the same game. Then again, in the Churchyard, after the scandalous brawling (brought about by the stupid ignorance of a dunderheaded ecclesiastic, to whose Bishop _Laertes_ ought to have immediately reported him), _Hamlet_ returns to weep and throw flowers into the grave. Now excellent "returns" are dear to the managerial heart, and consoling to his pocket, when they attest the overflowing attendance of "friends in front;" but when "returns" are on the stage, their excellence may be questioned on the score of monotony. Now, as to the Churchyard Scene, permit me to make a suggestion:--the Second Gravedigger has been commissioned by the First Gravedigger, with money down, to go to a neighbouring publican of the name of YAUGHAN, pronounced Yogan or Yawn,--probably the latter, on account either of his opening his mouth wide, or of his being a sleepy-headed fellow,--and fetch a stoop of liquor. Now, when all the turmoil is over, the remaining gravedigger would at once set to work, as in fact he does in this scene at the Haymarket; but here he just shovels a handful of mould into the grave, and then, without rhyme or reason (with both of which he has been plentifully supplied by SHAKSPEARE), suddenly away he goes, merely to allow for the "business" of _Hamlet's_ re-entrance. But why shouldn't there be here, prior to the return of _Hamlet_, a re-entrance of the Second Gravedigger, as if coming back from friend YAUGHAN's with the pot of ale? The sight of this would attract First Gravedigger, and take the thirsty soul most readily from his work to discuss the refreshment in some shady nook. Then by all means let _Hamlet_ return to pour out his grief; and on this picture ought the Curtain effectively descend.

A novel point introduced by Mr. TREE is that his _Hamlet_, entertaining an affectionate remembrance of the late YORICK, assumes a friendly and patronising air towards YORICK's successor, a Court Fool, apparently so youthful that he may still be supposed to be learning his business. So when His Royal Highness _Hamlet_ has what he considers "a good thing" to say, Mr. TREE places the novice in jesting near himself, and pointedly speaks at him; as e.g., when, in reply to the King's inquiry after his health, he tells him that he "eats air promise-crammed," adding, with a sly look at the Court Fool, "you cannot feed capons so." Whereat the Fool, put into a difficult position, through his fear of offending the Prince by _not_ laughing, or angering the King (his employer) by laughing, has to acknowledge the Prince's witticism with a deferential, but somewhat deprecatory, snigger.

Again, when _Hamlet_ is "going to have a lark" with old _Polonius_--a proceeding in exquisitely bad taste by the way--Mr. TREE's _Hamlet_ attracts the young Court Jester's attention to his forthcoming novelty. Now this time, as the repartee is about as rude a thing as any vulgar cad of an 'ARRY might have uttered, the professional Jester, who evidently does not owe his appointment to the Lord Chamberlain's favour, and is exempt from his jurisdiction, grins all over his countenance, and hops away to explain the jest to some of the courtiers, while _Hamlet_ himself, to judge by his smiling countenance, is clearly very much pleased with his own performance in showing a Jester how the fool should be played. And this notion is consistent with the character of a Prince who takes upon himself to lecture the Actors on their own art. There is no subtler touch in SHAKSPEARE's irony than his putting these instructions to players in the mouth of a noble amateur. Of the revival, as a whole, one may truthfully say, _Ça donne à penser_, and, indeed, the study of _Hamlet_ is inexhaustible.

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WITH THEIR EASTER EGGS.

_The Emp-r-r of G-rm-ny._--Presentation copy of the light and leading satirical English Paper.

_The Cz-r of R-ss-a._--Letter of regret from President C-RN-T.

_The Pr-s-d-nt of the Fr-nch R-p-bl-c._--Secretly-obtained copy of proposed treaty for a Quadruple Alliance.

_The K-ng of It-ly._--Scheme for a _modus vivendi_.

_The P-pe._--Duplicate copy of ditto.

_Ch-nc-ll-r C-pr-vi._--Permit for leave of absence.

_Pr-nce V-n B-sm-rck._--A song, "_The Return of the Pilot_."

_The M-rq-s of S-l-sb-ry._--Date of the General Election.

_The Ch-nc-ll-r of the Exch-q-r._--Comments on the Budget.

_F-rst L-rd of the Tr-s-ry._--New rules for the game of Golf.

_Rt. Hon. W.E. Gl-dst-ne._--Set of Diaries for the next twenty years.

_The P-t L-r-te._--The Order of "The Foresters."

_The Oxf-rd E-ght._--The Blue Riband of the Thames.

_S-r A-g-st-s Dr-r-l-n-s._--A month's well-deserved rest.

_N-b-dy in P-rt-c-l-r._--A legacy of £100,000.

_Ev-ryb-dy in G-n-r-l._--Rates and taxes.

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THE DYNAMITE DRAGON.

A dragon! Faugh! that foul and writhing Worm Seems scarcely worthy of the ancient term That fills old myth, and typifies the fight 'Twixt wrathful evil and the force of right. The dragons of the prime, fierce saurian things With ogre gorges and with harpy wings, Fitted their hour; the haunts that gave them birth, The semi-chaos of the early earth, The slime, the earthquake shock, the whelming flood, Made battle ground for the colossal brood. But now, when centuries of love and light Have warmed and brightened man's old home; when might Is not all sinister, nor all desire Fierce appetite, that all-devouring fire,-- When life is not alone a wasting scourge, But from the swamps of soulless strife emerge Some Pisgah peaks of promise where the dove Finds footing, high the whirling gulfs above,-- Now the intrusion of this loathly shape, With pestilence-breathing jaws that blackly gape For indiscriminate prey, is sure a thing To set celestial guards once more a-wing; To fire a new St. Michael or St. George With the bright death to cleave the monster's gorge, And trample out the Laidly Worm's last breath In the convulsions of reluctant death. A crawling, craven, sneaking, snaking brute; Purposeless spite, and hatred absolute, In hideous shape incarnate! Venomed Gad In Civilisation's path; malignant-mad, And blindly biting; raising an asp-neck In Beauty's foot-tracks, and prepared to wreck The ordered work of ages in a day, To raze and shatter, to abase and slay. Blind as the earthquake, headlong as the storm, Yet in such hideous subter-human form, Vulgar as venomous! Dragon indeed, And dangerous, but with no soul save greed, No aim save chaos. Bloody, yet so blind, The common enemy of humankind; Whose age-stored works and ways it yearns to blast, To smite to ruined fragments, and to cast Prone--as itself is prone--in common dust. The Beautiful, the Wise, the Strong, the Just, All fruit of labour, and all spoil of thought, All that co-operant Man hath won or wrought, All that the heart has loved, the mind has taught Through the long generations, hoarded gains Of plastic fancies, and of potent brains; Thrones, Temples, Marts, Art's alcoves, Learning's domes, Patrician palaces, and _bourgeois_ homes. Down, down!--to glut _its_ spleen, the paltry thing, Impotent, save to lurk, and coil, and spring, But powerful as the poison-drop, once sped, That creeps, corrupts, and leaves its victim--dead! As the asp's fang could turn to pulseless clay The Pride of Egypt, so this Worm can slay If left long covert for its crawling course. Up, up against it every virile force, And every valorous virtue! By its hiss 'Tis known _hostis humani generis_, Let Civilisation snatch St. Michael's sword, And slay this Dragon, of a tribe abhorred The meanest and the most malignant Worm Which can spill venom, but, attacked, will squirm, Shrink, splutter, vanish. With no noble end, All men must be its foes, blind hatred its sole friend!

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BREAKING.

[In his spot-barred Billiard-Match with H. COLES, PEALL made breaks of 108, 133, 64, 52, 78, 77, and 80.]

Break, break, break On thy Billiard-board, oh P.! As easy as cutting butter The business seems to thee.

"Oh, well that the spot is barred," The knowing ones glibly say, "Or we might get no chance Of a COLES' strike here to-day."

And the marvellous game goes on. Till the watchers have their fill; And one drops off, and dreams He's taken the "Red" for a pill.

Break, break, break! And there's one that will broken be; For the Pony I put on the other man Will never come back to me.

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SUGGESTION FROM "CHILDE HAROLD" AT OLYMPIA.--"I stood in Venice on the Bridge of Size And paint," &c., &c.

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ON THE FIRST GREEN CHAIR.

Reach it, attendant; wicked winter flies off: Place it with pomp for me to sit and stare Up at the sun who banquets us with cries of "Chair!"

Long have we pined in darkness most uncanny: Now to Hyde Park return its gauze of gold, Jewels of crocus and enhancements mani- -fold.

Welcome, delicious zephyr, blithe new-comer, Urging to purchase patent-leather boots, Hats of a virgin glossiness, and summer suits.

Welcome, attire of carnival-carousers, Suddenly bursting on the 'wildered view. Mine--I don't mind confessing it--are trousers new,

These that, serene in atmosphere serenest, Droop o'er a Chair, whose emerald taunts the trees-- Green are the leaves, and greener than the greenest Peas!

All things must end: to-morrow may be icy: Wither too soon the joys that freshest are; End will sweet summer reveries, and my ci- gar.

Ends too that master-piece of Messrs. HYAM Bashfully hinted at in line sixteen; Green was the Chair I sat on--and now _I_ am green!

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"ALL'S (FAIRLY) WELL."

SCENE--_The War Office. Sanctum of the COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. H.R.H. is seated on a chair. To him enter (after being properly complimented by a couple of Grenadiers on guard over an area) INSPECTOR-GENERAL OF EVERYTHING, Field-Marshal PUNCH._

_Inspector-General_ (_sharply_). Well, Sir! (_COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF comes briskly to attention_.) No, your Royal Highness, you can be seated. I don't want to disturb you--much! And now, how is the Easter Review getting on?

_Com.-in-Chief_. First-rate, Sir. Excellent, Sir! Couldn't be better, Sir!

_Insp.-Gen._ (_dryly_). I have heard those phrases before, your Royal Highness--especially "couldn't be better"--and found subsequently that things ought to have been better, very much better, Sir.

_Com.-in-Chief_ (_anxiously_). But I assure you, Sir, that this time we are doing our level best. Why, Sir, fancy, we are going to have thirty thousand men under arms! Think of that, Sir--thirty thousand men!

_Insp.-Gen._ About the numbers of a German Brigade, or is it a Regiment?

_Com.-in-Chief_ (_with a forced laugh_). Come, Sir, I see you are joking! Yes, thirty thousand men, and some of them are going down fully equipped. Why, for instance, the Artists will march the whole way to the scene of the operations with their own regimental transport! And so will the 1st London Engineers. Think of that, Sir!

_Insp.-Gen._ And how much have you gentlemen here had to do with that, Sir? Why, the Volunteers would have been left in a state of utter unpreparedness had not the public taken the initiative. What did the War Office and the Horse Guards do towards giving them their kit?

_Com.-in-Chief_. Well, it is all right now, Sir. And we are going to have a splendid time of it. The idea is that a hostile force has landed at Deal during the early hours of Monday morning, and--

_Insp.-Gen._ (_interrupting_). Yes, I have read all that in the papers. But come, tell me who is to command?

_Com.-in.-Chief_ (_rather taken aback_). Well, Sir, the customary crew. I suppose BILLY SEYMOUR.

_Insp. Gen._ (_severely_). I presume, your Royal Highness, that you refer to General Lord WILLIAM SEYMOUR, who will be in command at Dover.

_Com.-in-Chief_ (_abashed_). Certainly, Sir. You are a little particular to-day, Sir.

_Insp. Gen._ (_gravely_). I am always particular--very particular--when I have to deal with the Volunteers. Well, Sir, General Lord WILLIAM SEYMOUR, commands at Dover--proceed, Sir; pray proceed.

_Com.-in-Chief_. Then, Sir, there's General GOODENOUGH at Maidstone, and General DAWSON-SCOTT at Chatham.

_Insp.-Gen._ Is he a Volunteer?

_Com.-in-Chief_ (_laughing_). Why no, Sir; of course not, Sir. Why he's in the Royal Engineers. Although in my Crimean days we never considered Sappers soldiers. We used to say that--

_Insp.-Gen._ (_severely_). No levity, Sir. And pray who else is to be in command?

_Com.-in-Chief_. Well, Sir, I shall be present myself on Saturday, and then take the March-past on Monday.

_Insp.-Gen._ Yes; but how about the Volunteers? What about them? Why don't you let the officers command their own men?

_Com.-in-Chief_. Why, Sir, you see in time of war--

_Insp.-Gen._ (_interrupting_). You would find Volunteer officers as capable as any others. Your Royal Highness has no doubt studied the lessons taught by the war between the Northerners and the Southerners in America?

_Com.-in-Chief_. I have glanced at the subject, Sir, at the Royal United Service Institute. And may I venture to hope that you are satisfied, Sir?

_Insp.-Gen._ (_after a pause_). Well, yes, I think you are doing better. But, in future, give a share of the command to Volunteers _pur et simple_. And now just jot down what I have further to say to you.

[_Scene closes in upon the COM.-IN-CHIEF taking notes._

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CONNECTED WITH THE PRESS.

At a recent meeting of the Institute of Journalists, it was proposed that future candidates for membership should undergo an examination to test their qualifications before election. Should the proposal be adopted, no doubt some such paper as the following will be set to those desirous of obtaining the right of adding "M.I.J." to their names.

1. Would you as a Reporter venture to use such expressions as "devouring element" or "destructive fluid" in sending in "flimsy" to a London Daily Paper? State when you would consider yourself entitled to describe yourself "a Special."

2. What are the rights of a Journalist at a free luncheon? If an Editor finds himself present, should he return thanks for the Press himself, or leave that duty in the hands of a bumptious Reporter.

3. Write an essay upon the Law of Libel, and say when a paper, (1) should apologise, (2) fight it out, and, (3) settle it out of Court.

4. Define the difference between a "comment of public importance" and a "puffing advertisement."

5. What is "log-rolling?" Give examples to illustrate the meaning of the word.

6. Show, concisely, why the World could not revolve without the Press, and why the Press would cease to be without your own personal assistance.

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UPON JULIA'S COAT.

(AFTER HERRICK.)

Whenas my JULIA wears a sack, That hides the outline of her back, I cry, in sore distress, "Alack!" She showed a dainty waist when dressed In jacket; true, the size confessed That whalebone had its shape compressed. Still was her form sweet as her face, But now what change has taken place! This "sack coat" hides all maiden grace. Although men's clothes are always vile, The coat, the trousers and the "tile"! Some sense still lingers in each style. But women's garments should be fair, All graceful, gay and debonair. And if they lack good sense, why care? O JULIA, cease to wear a sack, A garb all artists should attack, In which both sense and beauty lack!

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DRINKS AND DRAMAS.

("HENRY THE EIGHTH is a Soda-water Play."--Mr. Irving's Evidence before the Committee.)

Mr. Irving has now completed his list of refreshments suited to performances. They can be obtained, like Mr. GOSCHEN's reserve of shillings, "on application," which does not mean gratis.

_Macbeth_.--Very fine old Scotch.

_Hamlet_.--Bitters.

_Romeo and Juliet_.--Rum and Milk.

_Othello_.--Dublin Stout.

_Merchant of Venice_.--Port(1 A.).

_Charles the First_.--Bottled Ale (with a fine head).

_The Cup_.--Tea.

_Faust_.--Ginger Brandy.

_Much Ado About Nothing_.--Benedictine.

_Corsican Brothers_.--Half-and-half.

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A BERLIN CITIZEN'S DIARY.

(TRANSLATED BY OUR FIRST STANDARD BOARD SCHOLAR.)

["It is stated that the soldier who, on Friday last, fired at and killed a man who threatened him while on sentry duty before the barracks in the Wrangel-strasse, Berlin, has been promoted to the rank of corporal, for what is described as his correct conduct on the occasion. The passerby, who was wounded at the same time, still lies in a precarious condition."--_St. James's Gazette_, April 6.]

_April 1._--I go walking near barracks; see man looking quietly at building. Suddenly fires the sentry with his long distance rifle, so that the straight onward through the harmless onlooker's heart and through my never sufficiently to be regretted right arm passing bullet in the remote distance a child kills. Long live our good Emperor and his glorious army! Carried home insensible.

_June 1._--At last am I from arm-amputation recovered and walk again out. The sentry was for his on the first April quite courageous act to be Sergeant promoted. Here comes a Sergeant! He is it! Look curiously at him whereupon he me in the leg shoots. Long live our Emperor! Again carried home.

_Sept. 1._--Again out, in invalid chair, meet same man, now Lieutenant. I murmur sadly, "Ah, my friend, I gave you a leg-up indeed!" Then he, saying that I him insulted have, my remaining arm with his sword off cuts. I respect our Emperor, but I love not his soldiers now. Must hire an amanuensis.

_January 1._--After my long illness go I once again, Unter den Linden, in my invalid chair--that is to say, what is left of me. My enemy is now a Colonel. Shall I him again see? Heaven forbid! Alas, he comes even now, with those weapons which so rapidly him increase, and me diminish! I say nothing, but he, seeing me, with his sword my last limb off cuts. I love not even our Emperor now.

_May 1._--To-day is the Socialists' Day, and I can once more out-dragged be. I am now a without legs or arms Socialist. My enemy can be promoted now only by my body. He has become a General and Count--(_Here the Diary ends abruptly._)

"_Berlin, May 2._--Yesterday an unfortunate Gentleman, without arms or legs, when passing the Royal Palace in his invalid chair, was attacked by a distinguished officer, who ran his sword through the heart of the unoffending civilian. The assassin was immediately promoted, as is usual in such cases, and is now Field Marshal Prince BLUTUNDRUHM VON SCHLACHTHAUSEN."--_London Daily Papers._

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ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

House of Commons, Monday, April 4.--ALPHEUS CLEOPHAS has adde a new terror to Parliamentary life. It is bad enough to have him unexpectedly rising from a customary seat; usually finds a place on top Bench below Gangway, whence, in days that are no more, NEWDEGATE used to lament fresh evidences of Papal ascendancy. House grown accustomed to hearing the familiar voice from this accustomed spot. To-night, conversation on question of Privilege been going forward for some time. Seemed about to reach conclusion, when suddenly, far below the Gangway in Irish quarter, ominous sound broke on startled ear.