Chapter 2

One of the Baron's Assistant Readers has been reading a really interesting, well written novel in two volumes, by MARY BRADFORD-WHITING. It is called _Denis O'Neil_, and tells of the adventures of a young Irish Doctor who gets entangled in the plots of one of those Secret Societies that used to exist in "the most distressful country that ever yet was seen," some twenty years ago. The romance contains some clever sketches of character. The story (published by BENTLEY) ends sadly, and those who want to find fault with it will say it is too short.

The Leadenhall Press,--immortalised by its invention of that invaluable work of art, "The Hairless Author's Paper Pad," which the Baron herewith and hereby strongly recommends to Mr. GLADSTONE, who has so much writing to do with a pad on his knee, and for this purpose Mr. G. would find this the "_knee plus ultra_" of inventions,--this same Leadenhall Press has recently published a story without a title, offering a reward of £100 to any individual, or to be divided between such individuals, as may guess it. The story is in effect about a youth who lost his right eye in fighting another boy, and who subsequently revenged himself by depriving his antagonist of an eye by a violent stroke at Lawn-tennis. What can be the title? The Baron has had the following suggestions made to him:--"Eye for an Eye," "The Egotist," "My Eye!" "Aye! aye!" "Ocular Demonstration," "A Man of One Eye-dear!" "Eyes Righted," "One Left," "The Other Eye," "Two Pupils and One Eye," "You and Eye," "The Eyes Have It." The Baron "winks the other eye," and will be very glad should any hint of his have assisted a deserving person to gain the reward offered by Mr. TUER. _En attendant_ the Baron has hit upon a still more novel idea. He will write some contributions towards short stories, and his readers shall finish them. The terms will be these:--The Baron commences a chapter, or a few lines of it, and leaves it unfinished, then his readers shall finish the sentence, and sometimes the chapter, for themselves. If the sentence, or the chapter, as the case may be, _shall turn out to be exactly what the Baron would have written had he continued it, then he, the Baron, will award_ £100 _to the successful candidate, or will award a division of that sum among the successful candidates. Every competitor shall pay the Baron_ £50. _And to insure such payment, each competitor's cheque for this amount must accompany his or her contribution._

EXAMPLE.--_CHAPTER I.--The harvest-moon was slowly rising. The heather, dried and burnt by the mid-day sun, appeared, to the eye unaccustomed to this aspect of the country, to be merely a rugged divergence from the main road. Descending carefully from his dog-cart, a small man in a big coat, muffled up to the eyes, proceeded leisurely to--_

Now, then, _what_ did he leisurely proceed to do? There's a fortune in it!--somewhere!--says

THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.

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SPRING TIME IN LEAP YEAR;

OR, THE JOLLY BATHERS.

_First Jolly Bather_ (_singing, quaveringly_):-- Spring's delights are now revi-i-i-vi-i-i-ng, Verdant leaflets deck each spr-a-ay!

_Second Jolly Bather_ (_impatiently_). _Don't_, ARTHUR, make that row! B-r-r-r! (_Shivers._) Spring's _delights_, indeed! And as to the "verdant leaflets" (unless you mean election squibs), where _are_ they?

_First Ditto._ Ah, "verdant leaflets" not a bad name for Financial Reform tracts, _et id genus omne_. Touch of your old satirical Saturday-Reviewish style there, Nunky!

_Second Ditto_ (_hastily_). Oh, bother! What are we here for?

_First Ditto_ (_coolly_). Why, to _bathe_, I presume.

_Second Ditto._ Bah! One would think, ARTHUR, we belonged to that society of lunatics who make a point of taking a matutinal plunge in the Serpentine every morning, all the year round, _even if they have to break the ice to do it_! Ineffable idiots! [_Curls up._

_First Ditto._ Well, we may as well put a good face on it, Uncle.

[_Grimaces._

_Second Ditto_. Ah, yes, you can say so--at _your_ age, ARTHUR. I like my morning tub in my bath-room--with the chill off.

[_Wraps his towel round his neck._

_First Ditto_. (_Sings again, tremolo_):-- Why linger shivering on the brink, And fear to launch away?

_Second Ditto_ (_sharply_). Why, you're at it again, ARTHUR! And a Conventicler's hymn, too, this time. I'm a-a-shamed of you.

_First Ditto_. Ah! that's what LABOUCHERE, O'KELLY, CONYBEARE, and Company say! _I_ don't mind; in fact, as I told 'em, I rather like it. Does me a world of good.

_Second Ditto_ (_admiringly_). Ah! you _have_ got a nerve, ARTHUR. I _will_ say that for you. Still, you've been giving them something to "guy" you about lately, you know.

_First Ditto_ (_sharply_). Ah! have I? Well, "I can assure you that I am the last person in the world to object to a process from which I have profited so much."

_Second Ditto_. Oh, yes, that was all very well for them, over yonder. In fact, I own it was rather neatly put.

_First Ditto_ (_slily_). Didn't "lack finish," was sufficiently "_ad unguem_," eh, Nunky?

_Second Ditto_ (_moodily_). Ah! what do you youngsters know about those fine old fighting days? I didn't love DIZZY, but he was a neat hand with the foils, boy.

_First Ditto_. Especially in a bout with a friend,--with the buttons off. But I say, this isn't bathing, you know!

_Second Ditto_. No. (_Eyeing the stream distastefully._) Hadn't we better postpone the pleasure till a little later in the season, ARTHUR. When those "Spring's delights" of which you melodiously twangle are a leetle more _en évidence_.

_First Ditto_ (_pipes_). Hawthorn buds give joyful tidings. Welcome, youths, 'tis bright bath-day!

_Second Ditto_. Ah! if we're here to do the Eclogue business, STREPHON can take his turn, as well as CORYDON. [_Sings._ Let us plunge into the ri-i-i-v-e-e-r! Leave our vesture on the bank!

_First Ditto_. Bless me, STREPHON, how you shi-i-v-e-e-r!

_Second Ditto_. 'Tis like a fishmonger's tank!

_First Ditto_. Pooh! 'tis lovely--when you're in it; One bold header, and 'tis done!

_Second Ditto_. Ah, quite so, but--wait a minute, Till I've warmed me with a run. That will stir my circulation; For the moment I am "friz."

_First Ditto_. _Magnifique!_ my dear relation; But, you'll own, it is not "biz."

_Both_. We must o-o-o-ow-n it is not "biz!"

_Second Ditto_. Well, no, I suppose it isn't, ARTHUR. By the way, what's that row behind there?

_First Ditto_. (_looking_). By Jove! it's that Gladstone gang! They've tracked us! (_Sings_)-- They're after us! They're after us! _We_'re the individuals they require.

_Second Ditto_. (_sardonically_). What a lyric _répertoire_ you have, ARTHUR! Old English glee, Puritan psalmody. Music-hall song, all come equally well to you, it seems. But those roughs mean mischief, Nephew mine!

_First Ditto_. Doubtless! They always do. And they've done some lately, drat them! I say, wouldn't they like _to shove us in_, as they did the old witches, _to see if we can swim_?

_Second Ditto_. By Jove! I shouldn't wonder if they tried. Don't you think, ARTHUR, (_valiantly_) it would be better, more manly, and more politic, perchance, _to plunge in than to be pushed_?

_First Ditto_ (_drily_). Ah! just as the brave sheep-- "Committed suicide to save themselves from slaughter."

_Second Ditto_. Oh, hang your quotations! Happy omen! 'Tis Leap Year, is it not? Just a leap; though, like DERBY's, it be "in the dark," and--well, _we shall know where we are, anyhow!_

_First Ditto_. Ah, just so; and that's something!

[_Left considering._

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"CLERK ME NO CLERKS."

It seems Sir E.C., Q.C., likes The blatant, brazen, Boothian band, Admires "abstaining" zeal that strikes The biggest drum with boldest hand. He says, "You must not judge some others' case By tastes much more refined," less commonplace.

Yet, as Sir EDWARD disagrees With those whose tastes he thus divined, It's manifestly clear he sees _His_ taste in music's not "refined." 'Twas written long ago by CHAUCER's pen, "The gretest clerkes ben not the wisest men."

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"MY DEAR EYES! WHAT! SEE-USAN!"

At the Prince of Wales's, Mr. ARTHUR ROBERTS, as _Captain Crosstree_, is more ARTHUR ROBERTS than ever, and, consequently, immensely droll. While he is on the stage, the audience is convulsed with spasmodic laughter, excepting when he tries to forget himself and his drollery in a loyal attempt at doing justice to Messrs. SIMS' AND PETTITT's words, and to the serious business of some situation intended to be dramatic. At such moments the laughter of the House is checked, a sudden gloom comes over the faces that were but now on the broad grin, even the lineaments of Mr. ROBERTS become agonised, and the audience, like _Christopher Sly_ when bored by the Duke's players, mutter to themselves, "would t'were done." But these painful seconds, which, at the time, seem hours, are, we are glad to say, but brief and passing shadows over Mr. ROBERTS' own quaint humour which speedily reasserts itself, and, the Pettitt-and-Sims fetters being cast aside, the People's ARTHUR is himself again, and more so than ever. And, when he _is_ himself, he is simply the most absurd person that ever faced the footlights.

Miss NELLIE STEWART is a pretty singing, dancing, twisting, twirling _Susan_. But what induced handsome Miss MARION BURTON, once so gay and sprightly as _Cherubino_ in _Le Nozze di Figaro_, to essay this musically dreary part of _William_, and, further, to wear a costume about as unlike that of the nautical and traditional _William_ as can well be imagined, is a puzzle to anyone who knows what she _has_ done and _can_ do. Not a bit of dash in the character; all the good old conventional British Tar taken right out of it. She can indeed say with the fool in _The Yeomen of the Guard_, "I've got a song to sing, oh!" for she has two or three, but her "voice is wasted on the desert air," as they go for nothing, and therefore probably nobody else could make them go for anything.

Mr. ARTHUR WILLIAMS is funny, but his Variety Show scene, with soliloquy and song, is too long; or rather, it would not be too long, if the piece were only cut down to a two hours' entertainment.

Let this "Comic Opera," for so is it described in the bills, be cut down as ruthlessly, but not as blindly, as _William_ cut down _Crosstree_; let something catching be substituted for most of the music of the First Act,--specially omitting the "Why, certainly!" interpolation, which is a feeble but evident imitation of Mr. W.S. GILBERT's classic "What, never?" "Well, hardly ever;" let the music of the Second Act be taken out by handfuls, and, if possible, let what remains be replaced by something sparkling; then, with less of sweet but sad _William_--for the present version of the part is quite "BURTON's _Anatomy of Melancholy_,"--with less of fascinating but squirming _Susan_, far less of minor characters generally, and more, by comparison, of the two MACS--meaning the two ARTHURS with the plural names ROBERTS and WILLIAMS,--also a telling song for Mr. CHAUNCEY OLCOTT (whose singing now wins an _encore_ for an indifferent ballad),--with the Captain's-giggy hornpipe of Mr. WILLIE WARD retained, as also the graceful dancing of Miss KATIE SEYMOUR, and then, omitting as much of the plot and authors' written dialogue as can be conveniently spared,--very little of it would be missed,--there is no rhyme or reason why _Blue-Eyed Susan_ should not run on as a Variety Entertainment for any number of nights and days, during which fresh material can be constantly substituted by Messrs. ROBERTS & Co. of the Drollery Company, Unlimited, without racking the fertile brains of Messrs. PETTITT AND SIMS.

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ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

_House of Commons, Monday, March_ 14.--JACKSON turned up to-night answering questions from Irish Members. This reminds us he's Irish Secretary. Been so of course since Parliament met; but quite forgotten it. Mention this to the SPEAKER who looked a little dull while Captain PRICE was discoursing on Navy Affairs in Committee of Supply. So went up to have a little chat with him in the Chair.

"My dear TOBY," he said, "I don't know whether you meant it, but you've paid JACKSON the highest compliment it is possible to convey. When in these times the CHIEF SECRETARY so manages to conduct business of his department that he himself is temporarily forgotten, he's doing it surpassingly well. My big brother ROBERT was once Chief Secretary, though perhaps you forget that also. He resigned because, as he said, there was not enough work to keep an active man going. That was long time ago. I daresay you had no chance of forgetting during the last five years that Prince ARTHUR was Chief Secretary?"

Cannot claim to have invented the compliment the SPEAKER discerned; merely mentioning matter of fact; but, as he says, when in these days a Chief Secretary manages to get himself forgotten, the wheels at the Irish Office must be going pretty smoothly. JACKSON has not brought about this miraculous change by laying himself out to flatter or court Irish Members. He is exactly the same as he was when he filled office of Financial Secretary; doubtless the same as when he looked after his tanyard in Yorkshire. Goes straight to the point in simple unaffected business manner that ruffles no sensibilities. Fancy he could tan a hide in such a way that it would not feel any resentment.

A predecessor at the Irish Office who succeeded, in more troublesome times, in living on peaceable terms with Irish Members, was CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN. Irish Members, swift judges of character, taking measure of both, came to conclusion nothing to be gained by rowing round them. What killed FORSTER, and turned GEORGE TREVELYAN's hair grey, made CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN smile--not an offensive smile, but one of interested amusement. JACKSON's sense of humour not so keen, but his imperturbability even more impregnable. If Irish Member trailed his coat before him, JACKSON would say, "My dear fellow, won't you get cold? Let me help you on with your coat."

SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, a judge on this particular point, says the MARKISS missed the greatest chance he has had for six months in not putting JACKSON in place of OLD MORALITY.

"Precious good thing for us, TOBY," says the SQUIRE, "that he didn't. JACKSON the very model of a Leader of House, and Prince ARTHUR--well he's Prince ARTHUR."

"But I suppose you don't mean," I venture to ask, "that JACKSON is the exclusive type of a successful Leader?"

"No," says the SQUIRE, with a far-away look.

_Business done._--Two Votes in Supply.

_Tuesday._--Spent doleful afternoon in Committee of Supply. Circumstances call upon Members below Gangway, Radicals or Irishmen, to come to front, and make at least show of doing something. SAGE OF QUEEN ANNE'S GATE pricks up his ears when Chairman puts question to allow £6 7s. 11d. on account of Sheerness Police Court. Why should Northampton contribute its quota, however small, to expenses of Sheerness Police Court? Debate and Division; after which, the SAGE retired to smoke cigarette through rest of afternoon, and discuss probable date of Dissolution.

Then Irish Members come on. Cream seems spooned off the mass in preparation for festivities on St. Patrick's Day, and only the skimmest of skim milk left. WEBB wobbles to the front; talks out vote for Chicago Royal Committee, although ATTORNEY-GENERAL tells him it will be all right as to Irish interests; being now close upon ten minutes to seven, when Committee must adjourn, WEBSTER hasn't time to make detailed explanations, but promises to do so on Report. WEBB maunders on all the same, and Vote postponed.

Great day for FLYNN. TIM HEALY thinks he's pretty smart as a debater; SEXTON believes he knows a thing or two; O'BRIEN is understood to be something of an orator. FLYNN will show House how all these qualities may be combined in one man. Does it by the tiresome twenty minutes, the lamentable half-hour; popping up on every question with comically judicial air; talking on with fatal feeble flatulent fluency, whilst GILL sits nursing his hat awaiting his turn.

Alack for Irish humour, eloquence and deviltry, that it should come to this!

Whilst FLYNN once again turns on the tap of his tepid dish-water, news comes that Lord HAMPDEN died this morning in far-off Pau. HAMPDEN was the BRAND who sat in Chair during Parliament of 1874, and wrestled nightly with the "bhoys" when they were in their prime--MAJOR O'GORMAN rollicking through the night; JOSEPH GILLIS with lean hand outstretched and his "It seems to me, MR. SPEAKER"; PARNELL in the white heat of passion; DELAHUNTY with his One Pound Notes, and poor MCCARTHY DOWNING with his scared look and his indescribable but unmistakable air of one accustomed to frequent the best society in Skibbereen.

After a fourth speech from FLYNN, with another to follow from WEBB, one almost envies the EX-SPEAKER lying at rest at the foot of the Pyrenees.

_Business done._--A few Votes in Supply.

_Thursday._--St. Patrick's Day in the evening. Irish Members rose to occasion; indeed, at one time O'KELLY and JOHN O'CONNOR rose together; remained on their legs in defiance of Standing Orders and angry protest of Chairman. Seemed as if someone must be suspended _pour encourager les autres_. Storm suddenly stilled; rising passion subdued by appearance of ALPHEUS CLEOPHAS on the scene, wanting to know about the Refreshment-bar in the Lobby. which, he said, was lowering to the dignity and respectability of House.

_Friday_ 12·15 A.M.--All this in Committee of Supply, which came to end at midnight. Then Report of Supply brought on; uproar renewed; Vote for Irish Teachers' Pension Fund under discussion. Irish Members mysteriously disappeared; SEXTON, understood to have ready prodigious speech on the subject, nowhere to be found. "JOHN O'CONNOR," NOLAN hoarsely whispered, "you have the longest legs in the Party; go and look up the bhoys, and I'll talk."

Silently but swiftly LONG JOHN stole forth on his mission; NOLAN nobly performed his part. At end of forty minutes' breathless talk, the Colonel, feeling his mouth growing parched, moved adjournment of House. SPEAKER didn't recognise relevancy of argument; declined to put the question.

"The Hon. Member," he said, "has spoken for forty minutes, and not given a single reason in favour of his proposal."

"I was coming to that point," said NOLAN, "and, if it is quite in order, I will now approach it."

Ruled out of order. LONG JOHN, back from his foray, in course of which had hunted up SEXTON, threw himself into breach; moved the adjournment for irresistible reason.

"I object," he said, "to this important subject being dealt with at nearly one o'clock in the morning on St. Patrick's night."

T.W. RUSSELL, condoled with his compatriots below Gangway on difficulties of situation. "Certainly hard," he said, "that on St. Patrick's night they should be called upon to discuss questions involving facts and figures." BALFOUR opposed adjournment; CONYBEARE strode in; commenced what promised to be long speech; Prince ARTHUR moved Closure; carried by nearly a hundred majority.

1·35 A.M.--House just back after division on question of adjournment; Ministerialists in full muster and full of fight; 41 for adjournment, 121 against. As if nothing been said during previous hour-and-half, ILLINGWORTH urges Prince ARTHUR to concede adjournment; PRINCE ARTHUR rises to reply. Irish Members, pulling themselves together, walk steadily out, amid ribald laughter from Ministerialists. Once more the CURSE OF CAMBOURNE turns up. This seems, quite naturally, to suggest the Closure; sort of automatic procedure; CONYBEARE--Closure. One more division just to wind up, and at ten minutes past two Vote carried and House up.

_Business done._--Revival of old times.

_Saturday_, 1·20 A.M.--House just up, after prolonged wrangle, lasting, with interval for dinner, straight through from two o'clock yesterday afternoon. Met then for Morning Sitting designed to make progress with financial business. For four hours disputed how business was to be arranged. This left one hour for doing it. Sitting suspended at seven, resumed at nine.

At it again talking about Royalties on Gold in Wales. Domestic Policy in Zululand, the Irish Question in the Falkland Islands, and Parliamentary Reporting. All this led gently up to passing Vote on Account; a conclusion finally arrived at with the assistance of the Closure.

_Business done._--Vote on Account taken.

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NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.