Chapter 1

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PUNCH,

OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

VOL. 103.

August 27, 1892.

TWO-PENN'ORTH OF THEOSOPHY.

(_A SKETCH AT THE ISLINGTON ARCADIA._)

SCENE--_The Agricultural Hall. A large Steam-Circus is revolving with its organ in full blast; near it is a "Razzle-Dazzle" Machine, provided with a powerful mechanical piano. To the combined strains of these instruments, the merrier hearts of Islington are performing a desultory dance, which seems to consist chiefly in the various couples charging each other with desperate gallantry. At the further end of the Hall is a Stage, on which a Variety Performance is in progress, and along the side of the gallery a Switchback, the rolling thunder of which, accompanied by masculine whoops and feminine squeaks, is distinctly audible. Near the entrance is a painted house-front with two doors, which are being pitilessly battered with wooden balls; from time to time a well-directed missile touches a spring, one of the doors opens, and an idiotic effigy comes blandly goggling and sliding down an inclined plane, to be saluted with yells of laughter, and ignominiously pushed back into domestic privacy. Amidst surroundings thus happily suggesting the idyllic and pastoral associations of Arcady, is an unpretending booth, the placards on which announce it to be the temporary resting-place of the "Far-famed Adepts of Thibet," who are there for a much-needed change, after a "3500 years' residence in the Desert of Gobi." There is also a solemn warning that "it is impossible to spoof a Mahatma." In front of this booth, a fair-headed, round-faced, and Spectacled Gentleman, in evening clothes, and a particularly crumpled shirt-front--who presents a sort of compromise between the Scientific Savant and the German Waiter has just locked up his Assistant in a wooden pillory, for no obvious reason except to attract a crowd. The crowd collects accordingly, and includes a Comic Coachman, who, with his Friend--a tall and speechless nonentity--has evidently come out to enjoy himself_.

_The Spectacled Gentleman_ (_letting the Assistant out of the pillory, with the air of a man who does not often unbend to these frivolities_). Now, Gentlemen, I am sure all those whom I see around me have heard of those marvellous beings--the Mahatmas--and how they can travel through space in astral bodies, and produce matter out of nothing at all. (_Here the group endeavour to look as if these facts were familiar to them from infancy, while the_ Comic Coachman _assumes the intelligent interest of a Pantomime Clown in the price of a property fish_.) Very well; but perhaps some of you may not be aware that at this very moment the air all around you is full of ghosts.

_The Comic Coachman_ (_affecting extreme terror_). 'Ere, let me get _out_ o' this! Where's my friend?

_The Sp. G._ I am only telling you the simple truth. There is, floating above the head of each one of you, the ghostly counterpart of himself; and the ghost of anybody who is smoking will be smoking also the ghost of a cigar or a pipe.

_The C.C._ (_to his attendant Phantom_). 'Ere, 'and me down one o' your smokes to try, will yer?

_The Sp. G._ You laugh--but I am no believer in making statements without proof to support them, and I shall now proceed to offer you convincing evidence that what I say is true. (_Movement of startled incredulity in group._) I have here two ordinary clean clay pipes. (_Producing them_.) Now, Sir, (_to the_ C.C.) will you oblige me by putting your finger in the bowls to test whether there is any tobacco there or not?

_The C.C._ Not _me_. None o' those games for me! Where's my friend?--it's more in _'is_ line!

[_The Friend, however, remains modestly in the background, and, after a little hesitation, a more courageous spirit tests the bowls, and pronounces them empty._

_The Sp. G._ Very well, I will now smoke the spirit-tobacco in these empty pipes. (_He puts them both in his mouth, and emits a quantity of unmistakable smoke_.) Now, in case you should imagine this is a deception, and I produce the smoke from my throat in some manner, will you kindly try my esoteric tobacco, Sir? (_To a bystander, who, not without obvious misgivings, takes a few whiffs and produces smoke, as well as a marked impression upon the most sceptical spectators._) Having thus proved to you the existence of a Spirit World, allow me to inform you that this is nothing to the marvels to be seen inside for the small sum of twopence, where I shall have the honour of introducing to you Mlle. SCINTILLA, who is not only the most extraordinary Scientific Wonder of the World, but also the loveliest woman now living!

_The C.C._ 'Ere, _I'm_ comin' in, I am. I'm on to this. Where's my friend? he'll pay for _me_. He promised to take care o' me, and I can't trust myself anywhere without 'im.

[_He enters the Show, followed by the Tall Nonentity, and the bulk of the bystanders, who feel that the veil is about to be lifted, and that twopence is not an exorbitant fee for initiation. Inside is a low Stage, with a roughly painted Scene, and a kind of small Cabinet, the interior of which is visible and vacant; behind the barrier which, separates the Stage from the Audience stands Mlle. SCINTILLA, a young lady in a crimson silk blouse and a dark skirt, who if not precisely a Modern Helen, is distinctly attractive and reassuringly material._

_The C.C._ Oh, I say, if this is a Mahatma, I _like_ 'em!

[_The Sibyl receives this tribute with a smile._

_The Sp. G._ (_appearing on the Stage as Showman_). Now, Ladies and Gentlemen! (_There is one Lady present, who stands at the side, by way of indicating that she declines to give the proceedings any moral support whatever._) You all know that Adepts have the power of disintegrating material objects and re-integrating them when they please. I have here a hollow mask. (_He exhibits a Pantomime demon head._) I place it upon the roof of this cabinet, which as you perceive is empty. I raise it--and underneath you will see materialised a wonderful young lady who consists of a head and nothing else. (_He discovers the head of a very human young person with short curly hair._) Now those of you who are unmarried would find this young lady an admirable wife for a man of small income, for, having no body, she will cost him nothing whatever for her food or frocks.

_The C.C._ (_with a touch of cynicism_). She'd make it up in 'ats and bonnets, though; trust _'er_!

_The Showman_. She is extremely sweet-tempered; and, when she observes a number of good-looking gentlemen in the front row, as there are to-night, she will smile affectionately at them.

[_The Head gives a very practical confirmation of this assertion, and the Lady in the corner sniffs with strong disapproval._

_The C.C._ 'Ere, I say--where's my friend? I want to take my 'ook out o' this--the young Lady's 'ed is a smilin' at me, and it ain't _good_ enough, yer know--she's left too much of herself at 'ome to suit _me_!

_The Showman_ (_after extinguishing the Head, which is giggling helplessly, in the Mask_). Now this other, young Lady, Mlle. SCINTILLA, known to her friends as "SPARKS," is equally wonderful in her way. It may surprise you when I inform you--(_here he puts his arm affectionately round the Sibyl's neck_)--that, beautiful as she is, she has never been kissed in her whole life!

_The C.C._ (_with chivalrous indignation_). What? Ere, if _that's_ all!--

[_He intimates, in pantomime, his perfect readiness to repair this omission at once._

_The Showman_. This is owing to the fact that she is impregnated with electricity to such an extraordinary degree, that any contact with her lips will produce a shock which would probably prove fatal!

_The C.C._ Oh, where _is_ that friend o' mine? (_To the Sibyl_.) I come out without my lightnin' conductor this evenin', Miss; but I've got a friend somewhere in 'ere as 'll be 'appy to represent me.

[_The Tall Nonentity tries to efface himself, but is relieved to find that the Sibyl does not take the offer seriously._

_The Showman_. As a proof that I am not speaking without foundation, this young lady will allow you to feel her hands, when you will at once become aware of the electric current. [_The Sibyl leans across the barrier, and tenders a decidedly pretty palm for public pressure, but there is the usual reluctance at first to embrace the opportunity. At length a seeker after truth grasps the hand, and reports that he "can feel a somethink," whereupon his example is followed by the others, including the_ C.C., _who, finding the sensation agreeable, pretends to be electrified to such an extent that he is unable to let go--which concludes the entertainment._

_Spectators_ (_departing_). She _may_ have 'ad one o' them galvanic belts on for all _you_ can tell. But, mind yer, there's a lot _in_ it, all the same. Look at the way he brought smoke out o' them clays!

_The C.C._ (_to his Friend_.) That _was_ a lark, JIM! But look 'ere--don't you go tellin' the Missus; _she_ ain't on the Me'atmer lay--not _much_, she ain't!

* * * * *

* * * * *

WOT CHER, LABBY?

["Mr. LABOUCHERE, so he says, has come to London to enjoy the smiles of the new Ministry."--_Morning Paper_.]

Enjoy them, dear LABBY, smile back, if you can-- Though your lip has a curl that portends something sinister-- It is painful, I take it, to flash in the pan, While a rival goes off with a bang as a Minister.

But you (you're a cynic, that's one of the ways, And by no means the worst, to get credit for kindness), You can smile at this struggle for titles and praise, You can laugh at your friends while you envy their blindness.

A time, so I fancy you saying, will come; They are not done with LABBY, for all their sweet smiling; And they're vastly mistaken who think he'll be dumb, Or abandon his amiable habit of riling.

* * * * *

"GREAT SCOTT!"--_Mr. Punch's_ congratulations to the new Bart. of Scott's Bank, Cavendish Square, with the classic name of HORACE. His friends will be able to adapt MACAULAY's lines, and tell--

"How well HORATIUS kept the Bank, In the brave days of old."

Of course, be it understood that "keeping the Bank" has nothing whatever to do with Monte Carlo, or with any game of speculation. _Ad multos annos!_ And to adapt again--

"On HORACE's head Honours accumulate!"

* * * * *

BALFOUR AND SALISBURY.--The late Government couldn't help having a good dash of spirit in it, seeing it was a "B. and S." mixture. Now, "B. and S."--off! _Vide_ _Mr. Punch's_ Cartoon this week.

* * * * *

* * * * *

IN OFFICE WITH THE LABOUR VOTE.

(_HOW TO DEAL WITH AN AWKWARD MATTER, ACCORDING TO PRECEDENT._)

SCENE--_A Smoking-Room and Lounge. Eminent Statesman discovered filling a pipe. Private Secretary in attendance._

_Em. S._ Now I think all's ready to begin. Mind, my lad, and have the tea and decanters in readiness when I ring for them. Enough chairs?

_Pri. Sec._ Only half-a-dozen expected, Sir; so I thought if I got six that would be enough.

_Em. S._ Quite so. And now, my dear fellow, show in the Deputation.

[_Private Secretary opens door, when enter several Workmen in their Sunday best, headed by Fussy M.P._

_Fussy M.P._ (_with effusion_). My dear Sir, this is a great pleasure. I hope I see you well. (_Shakes the hand of Eminent Statesman with profuse cordiality._) And now, if you will allow me, I will introduce these Delegates. It would have pleased them better if they could have had an Autumn Session, but they are quite prepared to be satisfied with an interview, as it is in the Recess. (_Speaking in the soft tones of the House at Westminster._) Sir! My Right Hon. Friend! It is my privilege as well as my duty--a most pleasant one--to introduce what I may aptly declare to be the most representative body of men it has ever been my good fortune to meet. I, my dear Sir--

_Em. S._ (_interrupting_). Thank you very much, but I fancy we can get on better by talking it over quietly. It's very hot, so if you don't mind, I will take off my coat and sit in my shirt-sleeves.

[_Removes his coat._

_Fussy. M.P._ (_taken aback_). My dear Sir!

_Members of the Deputation_. Thankee, Sir! We'll follow suit.

[_They remove their coats._

_Em. S._ Now you would like to smoke? Well, my Private Secretary will hand round cigars, cigarettes, and tobacco. Don't be shy, Consider my house Liberty Hall. Well, tell me--what's it all about?

_First Mem. of Dep._ (_pointing to Fussy M.P._) Why he said as how he would do all the speaking.

_Em. S._ Very likely, and do it (_bowing to him_) very well. But I would far rather that you should speak for yourselves. Come let us meet as old friends. Now--what do you want?

_Second Mem. of Dep._ Why, Sir, if you put it in that pleasant way, I may say, payment for hours of labour put in by some one else.

_Em. S._ Yes, very good. Capital notion. But how are you to manage it?

_Third Mem. of Dep._ (_roughly_). That's your business, and not ours. We tell you what we want, and you have to carry out our wishes.

_Em. S._ (_smiling_). You mean the wishes of your class--your order?

_Second Mem._ Well, that's about it. We _do_ represent them. Why we are sent to you by over 100,000!

_Em. S._ And what is the full complement of your combined trades?

_Second Mem._ About nine millions, but that has nothing to do with it.

_Em. S._ With it! Do with what?

_First Mem. of Dep._ Why, what we require, Right Hon. Sir--what we require!

_Em. S._ (_amiably_). And that is--?

_First Mem. of Dep._ (_triumphantly_). Oh, you must tell us that! It is not our place, but yours--see?

_Em. S._ Not exactly. But will you not join me? (_Offers cigarettes._) And now let us get at the heart of the question. Who is to do your work for you?

_First Mem. of Dep._ (_puffing at the tobacco_). Don't you think that could be done by the Government?

_Em. S._ _I_ don't know. I am delighted to see you, because it is with your assistance that I propose mastering the details of the matter. But you really must help me.

_Second Mem. of Dep._ (_taken aback_). But, I say, Sir, is this quite fair? We are accustomed to put up someone such as he (_pointing to the_ Fussy M.P.), and leave it to him to do all the talking.

_Em. S._ Yes, I know the old-fashioned plan; but I prefer the new. Pray go on. How will you get your work done gratuitously?

_Fourth Mem._ Oh, come! That's putting it a little too strong! We are not accustomed to it. What does it all mean?

_Em. S._ I think I can answer you. My good friends, until you can get an idea of what you really want, you can do nothing--nor can I. So now, if you have another appointment to keep, please don't let me detain you. All I can wish you I do wish you. May you all prosper in your undertakings. And now, farewell!

_First Mem._ Well, Sir, if you won't see us any more, good-bye!

_Em. S._ Good-bye! Mind the steps! Good-bye! [_The Deputation leave._ Eminent Statesman _turns his attention to other matters with a smile of satisfaction._

* * * * *

"EXCELSIOR! OR STRAIGHT UP!"--Sir DOUGLAS STRAIGHT was knighted last week. N.B.--Would have been mentioned earlier, if we had had the straight tip.

* * * * *

'ARRY IN VENICE.

DEAR CHARLIE,--'Ow 'ops it, my 'earty? Yours truly's still stived up in Town. Won't run to a 'oliday yet, mate. I'm longing to lay on the brown By a blow from the briny, but, bless yer, things now is as bad as they're made. Hinfluenzas, Helections, and cetrer, has bloomin' nigh bunnicked up Trade.

_My_ screw's bin cut down by a dollar; along of 'ard times, sez our bloke. I _did_ mean doin' It'ly this year; but sez Luck, "Oh, go 'ome and eat coke!" Leastways, that's as I hunderstand 'er. A narsty one, Luck, and no kid; Always gives yer the rough of 'er tongue when you're quisby, or short of a quid.

When I 'eard about Venice in London, I thinks to myself, mate, thinks I, 'Ere's a 'oliday tour on the cheap! 'Ere's a barney as 'ARRY must try. No Continong this year, that's certain, old man, for the likes of poor me; But whilst I've a bob I've a chance for a boss at the Bride o' the Sea.

Them posters of IMRE KIRALFY's for gorgeousness quite takes the cake. Friend IMRE's a spanker, you bet, and quite fly to the popular fake. "Stupendious work," IMRE calls it, and I.K. is O.K. no doubt. Your old Country Fair Show takes a back seat when ikey young I.K.'s about.

Oh, the jam and the mustard, my pippin, the crimsing, the blue, and the gold! Scissorree, CHARLIE, rainbows ain't in it, and prisums is out in the cold. I do like a picteresk poster, as big as a bloomin' back yard, With the colour slopped on quite regardless; if that ain't 'Igh 'Art, wy it's 'ard.

'Owsomever I mustn't feeloserphise. Off to Olympia I 'ooks, To see Venice the Bride of the Sea, as set forth in them sixpenny books. Bless his twirly merstache, he's a twicer, this IMRE KIRALFY, dear boy, And he give me a two hours' _spektarkle_ old LEIGHTON hisself might enjoy.

Bit puzzling the "Pageant" is, CHARLIE, until that Synopsis you've read; Wish I'd mugged it all up overnight; but I carn't get it straight in my 'ead. Sort o' mixture of _Shylock_ and BYRON, with bits of _Othello_ chucked in, Muddled up with "Chioggian wars," as seemed mostly blue fire and bright tin.

But the scenes wos 'splendiferous, CHARLIE. About arf a mile o' stage front, With some thousands of 'eroes and supers, as seemed all the time on the 'unt. Lor! 'ow they did scoot up and down that there stage at the double, old man, All their legs on the waggle, like flies, and their armour a-chink as they ran!

Old _Shylock_ turns up quite permiskus, and always upon the full trot; He seemed mixed up with Portias, and Doges, smart gals, and the dickens knows wot. All kep waving their arms like mad semy-phores, doin' the akrybat prank, As if they was swimming in nothink, or 'ailing a 'bus for the Bank.

I sez to a party beside me, "Old man, wot the doose does it _mean_?" Sez he, "A dry attic, yer know, of wich Venice, yer see, wos the Queen. That cove in a nightcap's the Doge; for an old 'un he _can_ move about. They had G.O.M.'s, mate, in Venice; of that there is not the least doubt.

"That's VETTORE PISANI, the Hadmiral; t'other is General ZENO Defending the State, I persoom, and they're 'aving a fust-class old beano. Wy PEDRO THE SECOND, of Cyprus, and _Portia_ is made a rum blend With Turps Siccory's Revels, and so on, no doubt we shall twig at the hend."

I sez, "Thankee! that's werry instructive. You _do_ know a lot, mate, _you_ do!" Then the fight at Chioggia came on. Sech a rum pully-haully all through. But the Victory Percession wos proper, and so was the All Frisky _feet_, And the way as they worked the gondolers, them streaky-legged chaps, wos a treat.

But the best o' the barney came arter. I took a gondoler, old man, Sort o' wobbly black coffin afloat, and perpelled on the rummiest plan With one oar and a kind of notched post. But a dressy young party in pink 'Ad a seat in my ship, and seemed skeery. _I_ cheered 'er up--wot do _you_ think?

"No danger," sez I, "not a mossel! Now is there, old lollipop-legs? Sit 'ere, Miss, and trim the old barky! Go gently now, young 'Am-and-Eggs! 'Ow much for yer mustard-striped kicksies? Way-oh! Wy, you nearly run down The Ryhalto that time, you young josser. Look hout, Miss, he'll crack your sweet crown!"

_Larf_, CHARLIE? She did a fair chortle. I _'ave_ sech a way with the shes. We 'ad six sixpennorths together--I tell you 'twos go-as-you-please! Modern Venice, took out of a toy-box, with palaces fourteen foot 'igh. And Bridges o' Sighs cut in pasteboard, is larks all the same, and no fly.

Sort o' cosy romanticky feeling a-paddling along them canals, With the manderlines twangling all round, and the larf of the gayest of gals Gurgling up through the Hightalian hair--though it do 'ave a cockneyfied sniff,-- Wy it's better than spooning at Marlow with MOLLY MOLLOY in a skiff.

I felt like Lord BYRON, I tell yer; I stretched myself, orty-like, hout, And wished it could go on all night, wich my pardner did ditto, no doubt. Modern Venice in minichure, CHARLIE, ain't really so dusty, you bet; I wos quite a Bassanio in breeks, and I ain't lost the twang of it yet.

_My_ Portia wos POLLY MARIA; she tipped me her name fair and free; And a pootier young mossel o' muslin, I never 'ad perch on _my_ knee. No side on 'er, nothink lowlived, CHARLIE, ladylike down to the ground, I called 'er my fair "Bride of Venice." In fact, we wos 'appy all round.

She said _I_ wos _'er_ form to a hounce, and if anyone looked more O.K., In a nobby Gondoler than me, well that chap 'adn't travelled _'er_ way; Wich wos Barnsbury Park--so she whispered, with _sech_ a sly giggle, dear boy! I sez "Bully for IMRE KIRALFY! His Show is a thing to henjoy!"

And so it is, CHARLIE, old hoyster. The music is twangly, I own, And if I've a fancy myself, 'taint hexactly the Great Xylophone; But the speeches of musical scratch-backs the dancers keep time with so pat, In that fairy-like Carnival Bally, fetched POLLY, ah, all round 'er 'at!

That 'at wos a spanker, I tell yer; as big as the Doge's State-Barge, And like all the "Four Seasons" in one! "Well," sez POLLY, "I _do_ like 'em large, Them Venetian pork-pies ain't _my_ fancy, no room for no trimmings above. They wouldn't suit Barnsbury Park, though they might do 'The Castle of Love'!"

Sort o' needled her somehow, I fancy; but, bless yer, I soon put _that_ straight. Gals is wonderful touchy on togs! Covent Garden piled high on a plate With a blue hostrich-feather all round it, mayn't be man's hidea of a tile, But I flattered her taste a rare bat, and soon 'ad her again on the smile.

Well, "Venice the Bride of the Sea," is wuth more than one visit, old pal, And I've got a hengagement next week to go there with the same pooty gal. I'm going to read up the subjeck, I'll cram for it all I can carry, For I'm bound to be fair, in the know if young POLLY should question

Yours, 'ARRY.

* * * * *

INNS AND OUTS.

NO. I.--"MISTER."