Chapter 1

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PUNCH,

OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

VOL. 103.

July 30, 1892.

IAGO IN BIRMINGHAM.

(_SHAKSPEARE ONCE MORE ON THE SITUATION._)

_Iago_ MR. J-S-PH CH-MB-RL-N. _Roderigo_ MR. J-SSE C-LL-NS.

_Roderigo._ Thou told'st me thou did'st hold him in thy hate.

_Iago._ Despise me, if I did not. The great ones of the City, In personal suit to make me his Lieutenant, Off-capped to him:--and, by the faith of man, I know my price--I am worth no worse a place; But he, as loving his own pride and purposes, Evades them with a bombast circumstance, Horribly stuffed with epithets of war; And, in conclusion, Nonsuits my meditators; for, "Certes," says he, "I have already chose my officer." And who was he? Forsooth, a great Arithmetician. * * * * * That never set a squadron in the field, Nor the division of a battle knows More than a spinster; unless the bookish theorick, Wherein the toged Consul can propose As masterly as he; mere prattle, without practice, Is all his soldiership. _But, Sir, he had the Election!_

* * * * *

A RESULT OF BEING HOSPITABLE.

SCENE--_Small, but Fashionable Club in West-End._

_Algy._ Waiter! bring me a brandy-and-soda. Don't feel up to the average to-day.

_Hughie._ Late last night?

_Algy._ Yes. Went to Mrs. CRAMMERLY's Dance, Prince's Gate. Goodness knows _why_ I went! I don't think they'll get me there again in a hurry.

_Charlie_ (_waking up from arm-chair_). Were _you_ a victim too? I didn't see you there!

_Algy._ No. Because I probably left before you arrived. I had had enough of it in an hour, and came on here to supper; not before I had nearly poisoned myself with a concoction that old CRAMMERLY was asserting loudly, was an "'80 wine."

_Charlie_ (_laughing_). Ah! my dear friend, _I_ had been there before, and knew the ropes. Took pretty good care to steer clear of the wine, and got a chap to give me a whiskey-and-soda.

_Uninvited Member._ May I ask where was this charming Party?

_Algy._ At the CRAMMERLY's, Prince's Gate. Colonel CRAMMERLY.

_Uninvited M._ Colonel CRAMMERLY! Let's see, was he an old Crimea man?

_Algy._ _No_!--He _was_ Colonel in the Bounders Green Volunteers. (_Roars of laughter._) You know "CRAMMERLY's Starch"--made a fortune out of it.

_Charlie._ He must have spent a bit of it last night. They say the flowers alone cost over a thousand pounds.

_Enter_ Captain O.

_Captain O._ Talking about the Colonel CRAMMERLY Party, eh? (_To_ Uninvited M.) Were you there?

_Uninvited M._ (_very satirically_). Oh, dear no! I fear I'm not smart enough to warrant my admittance into that _charmed_ and _select_ circle. [_Roars of laughter._

_Capt. O._ By Jove, you were well out of it. (_Addressing the Club generally._) Did--you ever see such--eh?

_Charlie._ I want to know where the deuce they get their men from.

_Algy._ I fancy they discover them in the City.

_Jack._ _I_ never met--such shocking people before.

_Capt. O._ Too dreadful for words. I could only conclude they must have been relations. [_Roars of laughter._

_Jack._ By the way, did you notice that there was a "bounder" who was reversing?

_Uninvited M._ (_with great indignation_). No!!!

_Jack._ I tell you it's a positive fact--I know it to my cost; for I was dancing with that youngest daughter, you know--the one who has the fluffy fringe over her forehead--and the brute bounced against us, and sent us flying. Never even apologised. If I could have got him outside, I declare I would have given him a deuced good hiding. A man like that ought to be kicked.

_Uninvited M._ Were the women any better?

_Algy._ Well, if you call Mrs. DASH any better!

_Uninvited M._ (_with tragic intensity_). You _don't_ mean to say _she_ was there!

_Algy._ I _do_.

_Uninvited M._ But do you mean to say that Mrs. CRAMMERLY has heard--

_Jack._ No. She's deaf. [_Laughter._

_Uninvited M._ Well, you _do_ surprise me! (_After a long pause._) Any other shining lights of London Society?

_Jack._ No--except that fearful Mrs. JUSSOPH and her daughters, who honoured me with an invitation to their afternoon party at their suburban residence at _West Kensington_. I don't know whether you regard them as an illumination. [_Roars of laughter._

_Uninvited M._ (_triumphantly._) Good gracious! Then there was positively no one there that one knows.

_Algy_ (_thinking he has said something original_). No one, that one _wants_ to know.

_Uninvited M._ I suppose the whole thing was done for an advertisement--?

_Algy._ Possibly. Anyhow, once bitten, twice shy. They won't get _me_ inside their stuccoed palace again.

_Chorus of Those who were at the Party._ Same here! [_Pause._

_Capt. O._ (_lighting cigar by candle_). By the way, JACK, did old CRAM. ask you to Scotland for the 12th?

_Jack._ Yes.

_Capt. O._ So he did me. Shall you go?

_Jack._ It depends--I think so--if I don't get anything better. I'm told it's a wonderful shoot. They pulled down over a thousand birds the first day, last year.

_Capt. O._ Does old CRAMMERLY shoot?

_Jack._ Oh dear no! He's as blind as a bat. He only rents it for his friends.

_Capt. O._ (_greatly relieved_). That's good news, for he's a terrible bore. He'd be a shocking nuisance on the Moors. I must say, I can't stand _him_ at any price.

_Jack._ No, nor any of the family, for the matter of that. Well, ta, ta! Perhaps we shall meet there. I'm off to the Empire, to join some friends who've got a box.

[_Exit to enjoy further hospitality._

* * * * *

"PERFIDIOUS ALBION" AGAIN.--Lieutenant MIZON, with his grievances against the British Niger Company, was _fêted_ last week in Paris. To inform Frenchmen that the British Company in question is not so _niger_ as it has been painted would be useless at the present moment, when Frenchmen are still loud in their applause of the speech made by the Prefect of the Seine in such a _Mizon-scène_. [N.B.--_Jeu de mot_ forwarded by our own "Prefect of the In-Seine."]

* * * * *

FROM NEWCASTLE.--Mr. HAMOND, M.P. for Newcastle, charged Mr. JOHN MORLEY with having made a certain statement. Mr. MORLEY denied it, and asked Mr. HAMOND to substantiate the charge. Mr. HAMOND could not do this, nor did he apologise. Is this the "_'Amond honorable_"?

* * * * *

Brave Sir CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ! basely have they borne thee down; Thousands, thirty, would they tip thee as a churl they'd tip a crown? Thou at home hadst shown that Sultan with emphatic toe the door; In Morocco thou didst coolly turn thy back upon the Moor.

Long in fiery Fez he lingered, subtle SMITHEZ, being bound To contract Commercial Treaty with the minions of MAHOUND. Full eight weeks' negociations smoothed that Treaty's parlous way; On the fifth July the Sultan swore it should be signed next day.

But the false Frank's furtive whisper at the Sultan's ear was heard. (When the Frank may foil the Saxon won't he do so? Like a bird!) And the treacherous Moorish Monarch, to his people's interest blind, Sold the sham he dubbed his honour, changed the thing he deemed his mind.

"Christian Knight," began the Monarch ("knight" was diplomat for "dog"), "There is something in your Treaty, that I relish--like roast hog. Know Morocco is no home for Factories and Colossal Stores; And the omnipresent Bagman is a bugbear to my Moors!

"All my Cadis, all my ladies, wish at--Hades Western Trade. You must make large alterations in the Treaty we've half made; Shape it not in Christian interests, Christian Knight, but in MAHOUND's, And--incline thine ear!--I'll give thee, Christian, Thirty Thousand Pounds!!!"

Enter black slave bearing Treasure! Rangèd bags of glittering gold! Then upspake brave EUAN-SMITHEZ. "Hold, base Sultan; minion, hold! Dost thou think to bribe and buy a Christian Knight? A Paynim plan! If _I_ take it, thou mayst sell me to a Moorish dog's-meat man!"

Then his steed obeyed his master, and he whinnied loud and free, Turned his back upon the tempter, caracoled with coltish glee; Struck out with his heels behind him, smote that slave upon the nose, Kicked the bags until the bullion in a Danaë shower arose.

Never DON FERNANDO's charger, _Bavieca_, gave such spring, In the sawdust-sprinkled circus of AL-WIDDICOMB, the King! Never did DON GOMERSALEZ fill the Moslem with more fear, When he smote him o'er the mazzard with his streak-o'-lightning spear!

And the scattered gold flew widely, urged by that prodigious kick, Smote the Frank behind the throne, although he dodged amazing quick; Spattered that insulting Sultan, like a splash of London mud, Blackening his dexter eye, and from his "boko" drawing blood.

Then Sir CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ gave that Moorish Sultan beans, Holding it foul scorn--as did the pluckiest of Christian Queens-- a Christian Knight should take an insult from a turban'd Moor, Without landing him a hot 'un, without giving him what-for!

Speed thee, speed thee, noble charger! Speed thee faster than the wind! Stout Sir CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ leaves that Moorish Fez behind; Shakes its sand from off his shoes, and, having wiped the Sultan's eye, Turns his back, and takes his hook, without e'en wishing him "Good-bye!"

* * * * *

* * * * *

OPERATIC NOTES.

_Last Nights of the Season._--_Monday._--"By General Desire," the Second and Third Acts of DE LARA-Boom-de-ay's Opera, called _La Luce dell' Asia_, followed by _Cavalleria Rusticana_. Was "by general desire" applied to the entire programme, or only to its first part? Well, we may take for granted that everyone wanted to hear and see again--but especially to hear--the _Cavalleria_. So the "special desire" must apply to _La Luce_ solely and only. If so, then from this wording we gather that the general and uncontrollable desire to hear the Second and Third Acts of DE LA-RA-Boom's Opera did not extend to its Prologue, First Act, Fourth Act (if any), and Epilogue. But is it complimentary to a Composer to express a general wish to hear only certain portions of his work, implying thereby that the generally un-expressed desire is rather against than for re-hearing the other portions? All the same Sir COVENT GARDENIUS exercises a _sound_ discretion in thus dealing with this particular Opera.

_Tuesday._--BEMBERG's New Opera, _Elaine_.

_Chorus._--Why was _Elaine_ Given again? O DRURIOLAN- US, please explain!

And he did so, by saying in the programme "[fist] In consequence of its Great Success and by general desire." Ha! ha! look at the hand, with index-finger outstretched! By this sign, Sir DRURIOLANUS would have us to understand that "this Opera was not one which ever went _without a hand_." Moreover, Sir ORACLE tells us of its "Great Success;" note the capitals, and note also, the expression itself, which was not found in the announcement of the repetition of the Second and Third Acts of the Light Asian Opera on Monday. Isn't this an artful way of pitting Admirable BEMBERG against our own accomplished DE-LARA-Boom? "We" were not there either Monday or Tuesday, which, as far as the inimitable _intermezzo_ of the "Rustic Chivalry" goes, was distinctly "our" loss. But they were going to do without us, and they did so; but whether ill or well, this deponent, meaning "We," knoweth not; and so, we're like Brer Rabbit, who lay low and said nothin'. Brer Wolf sezzee were kinder sorry he was unable to go Satterday arternoon for to hear Brer Fox's new Opera, _Nydia, the Blind Girl_.

_Friday._--_Don Giovanni._--Madame DOTTI, in taking the _rôle_ of _Donna Anna_, "took the cake." Not going "a bit dotty," but in excellent form.

* * * * *

BE-LITTLER-ING MR. GLADSTONE'S MAJORITY.--Not that the G.O.M. is "coming of age in the olden times,"--as somebody's picture has it,--but that he is coming in with a mixed Majority of atoms difficult to be assimilated. This much exercises the wigorous brain of Mr. R.D.M. LITTLER, Q.C. writing to the _Times_. Of course R.D.M. LITTLER, Q.C.--which initials, being interpreted, may mean, "Railway Directors' Man"--is the Conservativest of Conservatives--"but that's another Tory," as one may say, adapting RUDYARD KIPLING's phrase,--and, difficult as the G.O.M. may find it to get on with the aid of a Little Majority, he couldn't get on any better with the aid of a Littler.

* * * * *

NOTE.--The Guide to Wild West Kensington should announce the objects of interest in this Buffalo Bill Show, not as "classified," but "Codyfied."

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE TRAVELLER.

(_MODERN VERSION BY A GRATEFUL COOK'S TOURIST._)

[Mr. THOMAS COOK, originator of the great "Personally Conducted" Tourist and Excursionist System, died on Monday the 18th July, aged 84 years.]

"Remote, unfriended, melancholy slow, Or by the lazy Scheldt, or wandering Po?" Nay, gentle GOLDSMITH, it is thus no more, None now need fear "the rude Carinthian boor," The bandit Greek, the Swiss of avid grin, Or e'en the predatory Bedouin. Where'er we roam, whatever realms to see, Our thoughts, great Agent, must revert to thee. From Parthenon or Pyramid, we look In travelled ease, and bless the name of COOK! Eternal blessings crown the wanderer's friend! At Ludgate Hill may all the world attend. Blest be that spot where the great world instructor Assumed the _rôle_ of Personal Conductor! Blest be those "parties," with safe-conduct crowned, Who do in marshalled hosts the Regular Round; Gregarious gaze at Pyramid or Dome, The heights of Athens, or the walls of Rome, Then like flock-folded sheep, are shepherded safe home.

"Let observation, with extensive view, Survey mankind from China to Peru." By all means, yes, or even further fare, And Afric's forest huge and poisonous Pigmies dare. But, to avoid the lonely traveller's pain, From Ludgate Circus drag the well-linked chain; As Amurath to Amurath succeeds, So COOK to COOK! THOMAS's grandiose deeds What Tourist may forget? The great one's gone, But his vast enterprise shall still march on. What THOMAS started, is pursued by JOHN. Peace to the dust of the Great Pioneer, "Great COOK is dead, long live Great COOK!" we cheer.

* * * * *

DARK DOINGS.--Mrs. MARTHA RICKS, the emancipated black slave, who came all the way from Liberia to pay Her Gracious MAJESTY a morning call, may be now known as "The QUEEN's Black Woman," or as a companion silhouette to "SALISBURY's Black Man." Of course she will go back laden with valuable presents, quite a wealthy old lady, or "_Ricks Pecuniarum_."

* * * * *

THE DUFFER IN POLITICS.

My country neighbours at Mount Duffer are not literary. So very remote from this condition are they, that they regard men of letters as "awful men," in the Shakspearian sense of the word. Consequently, since those papers began to appear, sometimes, in the pages of _Mr. Punch_, I have risen in the general esteem. Even JOHN DUC MACNAB has been heard to admit, that though the MAC DUFFER is "nae gude ava' with the rod or the rifle, he's a fell ane with the pen in his hand. Nae man kens what he means, he's that deep." In consequence of the spread of this flattering belief, I have been approached by various local Parties, to sound my fathomless depths as a possible Candidate.

First came a deputation of Jacobites. They were all ladies, of different ages, young and old; all wore ornaments in which the locks of Queen MARY, CHARLES THE FIRST, Prince CHARLIE, and other Saints and Martyrs, were conspicuously displayed. Would I stand as a Jacobite? they asked, and generally in the interests of Romance and Royalism. I said that I would be delighted; but inquired as to whether we had not better wait for Female Suffrage. That seemed our best chance, I said. They replied, that FLORA MACDONALD had no vote, and what was good enough for her was good enough for them. I then hinted that it would be well to know for which King, or Queen, I was to unfurl the banner at Glenfinnon. I also suggested that the modern Crofters did not seem likely to rally round us. The first question provoked a split, or rather several splits in our Party. It appeared that some five or six Pretenders of both sexes, and of intricate genealogies, had their advocates. An unpleasant scene followed, and things were said which could never be forgiven. The deputation, which had been expected to stay to luncheon, retired in tears, exclaiming for a variety of monarchs all "over the water."

The local Gladstonians came next. I had never declared myself, they said. Was I for Home Rule? I said we must first review Mr. GLADSTONE's numerous writings about HOMER, and then come to Home Rule. "HOMER stops the way!" Were Mr. GLADSTONES Homeric theories compatible with a rational frame of mind? Here I felt very strong, and animated with a keen desire to impart information. The deputation said all this was ancient history. As to Home Rule itself, they said it really did not matter. What they wanted was, free poaching, free private whiskey-stills, free land, and a large head of game, to be kept up by the proprietor, for the benefit of the glen, as in old times. I said that these seemed to me to be Utopian demands. If you all fish, and shoot, and drown the keepers in the linn, I urged, there will soon be no game left for any of you. No Game-laws, I observed, and you will obviously have no poaching. There will be nothing to poach, and no fun in doing it. They said that they would pay keepers to hold the Southern bodies off, out of the rates, and the rates would be paid by the Laird--meaning me. I said I knew that several Lairds were standing on this platform, but that, personally, if my land and rents were to be taken away, I did not see how the rates were to be got out of my empty sporran. This was a new idea to them, but I cheered them up by saying I was in favour of Compulsory Access to Mountains, with no Personal Option in the matter. This was what the people needed, I said--they needed to be made to climb mountains, beginning with Box Hill. On Bank Holidays, I remarked, they never go to the top. They stay where the beer is. I would have a staff of Inspectors, to see that they went. The general limbs and lungs would be greatly improved, and the sale of whiskey, from private stills, would be increased.

This unlucky remark divided my Party. The Free Kirk Minister wore a blue ribbon, and was a Temperance-at-any-price politician. Two of "The Men," however,--a kind of inspired Highland prophets--had a still of their own, and they and the Minister nearly came to blows. The Party then withdrew, giving three cheers for Mr. GLADSTONE, but not pledging themselves to vote for me.

The Eight Hours' people were at me next. I said I saw that the Bill would provide employment for a number of people, but I added, that I did not see who was to pay the wages, nor who was to buy the goods. For, I remarked, you certainly cannot compete with foreign countries at this rate, and at home the Classes will be competing with _you_, being obliged to have recourse to manual labour. They said that was just what they wanted, everybody to labour with his hands. I answered that many of the Classes, a poor lot at best (_cheers_), would come on the Parish. Who was to pay the rates when everybody was working, and nobody was buying what was made? If there were no markets, where were you to sell your produce? They said they would live on the land. I answered that the land would not support the population: you would need to import bread-stuffs, with what were you going to pay for them? I added that my heart was with them, but that they could only attain their ends by massacring or starving three-fourths of the population, and who knew how he himself might fare, with a three-to-one chance against his survival? Suppose it did not come to that, I urged, suppose the Bill gave all the world employment; suppose that, somehow, it also paid their wages, or supported them, in a very short time you would need a Four Hours' Bill (_cheers_), a Two Hours' Bill, a One Hour's Bill, of course with no fall in wages. The constitution of things would not run to it.

They said that I had clearly not fought out the economic aspect of the question. I said that was how my hair was blanched, with trying to fight it out, but that, somehow, it always baffled me. I added remarks about squaring the circle, but they said it was a good deal easier to square Mr. GLADSTONE. The friends of Total Prohibition of Vaccination and of Beer were waiting, also a deputation, who wanted subscriptions for a SHELLEY Memorial, Russian Jews, Maxim guns for Missionaries, and other benevolent objects. I declined to see _them_, however, and was left to solitude, and to the reflection that I am unfitted for the sphere of active politics. In this belief the neighbours are now pretty generally agreed, which, as I have no keen ambition to shine in Parliament, is a very fortunate circumstance.

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* * * * *

LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS.

_Mount Street, Grosvenor Square._

DEAR MR. PUNCH,

The Race for the Eclipse Stakes at Sandown was productive of tremendous excitement, and everybody turned pale as the two gallant horses came up the straight, locked together, but the key to the situation--Parliamentary phrase, due to the prevalence of Elections--was held by the champion _Orme_, who managed to get home, "all out" by a neck!--at least, Lord ARTHUR said he was "_all out_," though how he could be "_home_" at the same time I don't quite understand--but he may have been alluding to the backers of _Orvieto_. I was told that _St. Damien_ "made up a lot of ground at the finish;" but I can't say I noticed it myself, as the course looked to me exactly as it did before the race! Dear me! how pleased my friends the Duke and Duchess of WESTMINSTER did look! and with good reason, too--it was a wonderful task for _Orme_ to accomplish, with only six weeks' training!--it must have been a _special_ train all the time; in fact, the one he was brought to Sandown in, I suppose.