Chapter 1

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PUNCH,

OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

VOL. 103.

October 15, 1892.

'ARRY AT 'ARRYGATE.

(_SECOND LETTER._)

DEAR CHARLIE,--The post-mark, no doubt, will surprise you. I'm still at the "Crown," Though I said in my last--wot wos true--I was jest on the mizzle for town. 'Ad a letter from nunky, old man, with another small cheque. Good old nunk! So I'm in for a fortnit' more sulphur and slosh, afore doing a bunk.

Ah! I've worked it, my pippin, I've worked it; gone in for hexcursions all round, To Knaresborough, Bolton, and Fountains. You know, dear old pal, I'll be bound, As hantiquities isn't my 'obby, and ruins don't fetch me, not much! I can't see their "beauty," no more than the charms of some dowdy old Dutch.

A Castle, all chunnicks of stone, or a Habbey, much out of repair, A skelinton Banquetting 'All, and a bit of a broken-down stair, May appear most perticular "precious" to them as the picteresk cops; But give me the sububs and stucco, smart villas, and spick-and-span shops.

"Up to date" is our _siney quay non_ in these days. _Fang der sickle_, yer know. Wich is French for the same, I persoom, and them phrases is now all the go. Find 'em sprinkled all over the papers; in politics, fashion, or art, If you carnt turn 'em slick round yer tongue, you ain't modern, or knowing, or smart.

Still a houting to Bolton ain't bad when the _charry-bang's_ well loaded up With swell seven-and-sixpence-a-headers. _I_ felt like a tarrier-pup On the scoop arter six weeks of kennel and drench in the 'ands of a vet; I'd got free of the brimstoney flaviour and went it accordin', you bet!

'Ad a day at a village called Birstwith. The most tooralooralest scene, 'Oiler down among 'ills, dontcher know, ancient trees and a jolly big green. Reglar old Rip-van-Winkleish spot, sech as CALDECOTT ought to ha' sketched. Though I ain't noways nuts on the pastoral, even Yours Truly wos fetched.

Pooty sight and no error, old pal! 'Twos a grand "Aughticultural Show," So the "Progrum of Sports" told the public. Fruit, flowers, and live poultry, yer know. Big markee and a range of old 'en-coops, sports, niggers, a smart local band, Cottage gardemn', cheese, roosters, and races! Rum mix, but I gave it a 'and.

I do like to hencourage the joskins. One thing though, wos fiddle-de-dee, They 'ad a "Refreshment Tent," CHARLIE. 'Oh my! Ginger-ale and weak tea! Nothink stronger, old pal, s'elp me bob! Fancy _me_ flopping down on a form A-munching plum-putty, and lapping Bohea as wos not even warm!

This 'ere 'Arrygate's short of amusements. There's niggers and bands on the "Stray" (Big lumpy old field in a 'ole, wich if properly managed might pay.) Mysterious Minstrels with masks on, a bleating contralto in black, With a orful tremoler, my pippin!--yus, these are the pick of the pack.

Bit sick of "_Ta-ra-ra_" and "_Knocked 'em_;" "_Carissimar_" gives me the 'ump, For I 'ear it some six times per morning; and then there's a footy old pump Blows staggery toons on a post-'orn for full arf a-hour each day, To muster the mugs for a coach-drive. My heye and a bandbox, it's gay!

At the "Crown" we git up little barnies, to eke out the 'Arrygate lot, For even the Spa's a bit samesome for six times a week when it's 'ot; Though they do go it pooty permiskus with pickter-shows, concerts, and such; Yus, I must say they ladles it out fair and free, for a sixpenny touch.

But even yer Fancy Dress Balls, and yer lectures by ANNIE BESANT, All about Hastral Bodies and Hether, seems not always _quite_ wot yer want To wile away time arter dinner. So thanks to that gent--six-foot-four!-- Who fair cuts the record as Droring-Room M.C.--of course _hammytoor_.

Then we've conjurors, worblers, phrenologists! One 'ad a go at _my_ chump. 'E touzled my 'air up tremenjus, and said I'd no hend of a bump Of somethink he called "Happrybativeness." Feller meant well, I suppose, But I didn't quite relish his smile, nor his rummy remarks on my nose.

When a tall gurl as pooty as paint, and with cheeks like a blush--rose in bloom, 'As 'er lamps all a-larf on yer face, and a giggle goes round the whole room, 'Tisn't nice to sit square on a chair, with a feller a-sharpening 'is wit On your nob, and a rumpling your 'air till it's like a birch-broom in a fit!

One caper we 'ad, on the lawn, wos a spree and no error, old man. They call it a "Soap-Bubble Tournyment." Soapsuds, a pipe, and a fan, Four six--foot posts stuck in the ground with a tape run around--them's the "props," And lawn-tennis ain't in it for larks. Oh, the ladies did larf, though tip-tops!

Bit sniffy fust off. "Oh!" sez they, "wot a most _hintellectual_ game!" But I noticed that them as sneered most wos most anxious to win, all the same, The gent he stands slap in the middle, and tries to blow bubbles like fun, Wich his pardner fans over the tape; don't it jest keep the girls on the run!

Every bubble as crosses the tape afore busting counts one to that pair, And the pair as counts most wins the prize. They are timed by a hegg-boiler. There! It _wos_ all a pantermime, CHARLIE, to see 'ow them gurls scooted round, Jest like Japanese jugglers, a-fanning the bubbles, as _would_ 'ug the ground.

Some gents wos fair frosts at the bizness; one good-'earted trim little toff Would blow with the bowl wrong end uppards. His pardner went pink and flounced off. He gurgled away like a babe with a pap-bottle, guggle--gug--gug! And I 'eard 'er a-giving 'im beans as 'e mizzled, much down in the mug.

Owsomever, it ain't for amusements as 'Arrygate lays itself hout; So, dear boy, it's for doses and douches; and there it scores freely, no doubt, Wy, there's thirty-two Springs in the Bog Field--a place like a graveyard gone wrong-- Besides Starbeck, the Tewit, and others, all narsty, and most on 'em strong.

Since Sir SLINGSBY discovered the first one, now close on three cent'ries ago, Wot a lush of mixed mineral muck these 'ere 'Arrygate Springs 'ave let flow! Well, ere's bully for Brimstone, my bloater, and 'ooray for 'Arrygate air! Wich 'as done me most good I don't know, and I'm scorched if I very much care!

I know 'Arrygate girls cop the biscuit for beauty. They've cheeks like the rose, Their skin is jest strorberries and cream; it's the sulphur, dear boy, I suppose. As for me, I look yaller as taller alongside 'em CHARLIE, wus luck! I 'eard one call me saffron-faced sparrer, and jest as I thought 'er fair struck.

I'd nail 'em, in time, I've no doubt, when I once got the 'ang of their style. There's a gal at the Montpellier Baths. Scissoree! 'ow I've tried for a smile, When she tips me my tannersworth! Shucks! she's as orty and stiff as yer please. Primrose Dames isn't in it for snubs with these arrygant 'Arrygatese!

But I reckon my "Douche" is now due. Doctor BLACK's that pertikler, old man. These 'Arrygate doctors 'ave progrums--you've got to pan out to their plan. Up early, two swigs afore breakfust, and tubs when they tell yer's the rule. Well, the feller as flies to a Sawbones, and _don't_ toe the line is a fool.

Reglar Doctor-Shop, 'Arrygate is; see their photos all over the town. Mine is doing me dollups of good; I'm quite peckish, and jest a bit brown. I'm making the most of my time, and a-laying in all I can carry. So 'ere ends this budget of brimstone and baths from your sulphur-soaked

'ARRY.

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MR. CHAUNCEY DEPEW, the well-known American lawyer, wonders why on earth the British Government has not long ago given Home Rule to Ireland. He encourages Mr. G.'s Ministry to do their best in this direction, and chaunce-y it. We're always delighted to welcome Mr. CHAUNCEY DEPEW in England, so let him come over with a Depewtation to Mr. G. on the subject.

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EQUESTRIAN FRUIT.--At the Horticultural Show the Baroness BURDETT-COUTTS exhibited a "Cob of ADAM's Early Maize." No particulars are given. Was it 14'1 and a weight-carrier? Being ADAM's, it must be about the oldest in the world. "Maize" may be a misprint for "Mews." Next time the Baroness must send a pear.

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PROBABLE DEDUCTION.--A pertinacious Salvation Army Captain was worrying a Scotch farmer, whom he had met in the train, with perpetual inquiries as to whether "he had been born again of Water and the Spirit?" At last, MCSANDY replied, "Aweel, I dinna reetly ken how that may be, but my good old feyther and mither took their toddy releegiously every nicht, the noo."

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THE AUSTRO-GERMAN OFFICER'S VADE-MECUM.

_Q._ You have heard of the Ride from Berlin to Vienna, and _vice versâ_?

_A._ Yes; and of the mishaps that befell many of the competitors.

_Q._ You mean their horses?

_A._ What applies to the one applies to the other.

_Q._ Some of the poor steeds died on the journey?

_A._ I daresay--of course, it was hard work.

_Q._ And you have read that, even when the poor horses were fainting and refusing food, the riders still went on?

_A._ Of course. The riders had magnificent pluck and nerve.

_Q._ What, to observe the anguish of their chargers without emotion?

_A._ No! The idea! I mean they had pluck and nerve in spite of all discouragement to push on to the winning-post.

_Q._ And what do you think this breaking down of the horses proved?

_A._ That, after all, the creatures were brutes--only brutes!

_Q._ Does not the suffering of these brutes suggest--

_A._ That the riders were brutes too?--Ah!

[_No further question put, the Answerer having mastered the subject._

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IN EXCELSIS.--No better example of the methods employed by Vivisectionists could be given than was presented at the Church Congress last week, where in debate on this subject they were all engaged in cutting up one another. The Bishop of EDINBURGH, denouncing the morality of the Bishop of MANCHESTER and of Bishop BARRY, was a rare sight. His Lordship said that the morality of these two Bishops was "up in a balloon." Well, surely this is morality of the most elevated description. These Bishops are not "_in partibus_," but _in nubibus_.

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IN WATER COLOURS.--The East London Waterworks Company had a very successful meeting the other day. _Inter alia_ the Chairman said, that "the Waltham Well is a complete success." _Ergo_ let Well alone. That from this source they still supplied "36 gallons per head." The heads must be uncommonly hard to stand all this water on the brain. A dividend of eight per cent. is, after all, a very pleasant draught.

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"GREEN THE GUIDE."

(_A SKETCH ON A "ROYAL BLUE" CAR AT JERSEY._)

_On the Car is, among others, an Elderly Gentleman, in a tall hat, with a quantity of wraps; a Stout Shopkeeper, with a stouter Wife; a Serious Commercial Traveller, and a couple of young "Shop-ladies"; a Morose Young Man, who has "got out of bed the wrong side" that morning, and another, who has begun his potations rather early, and is in the muzzily talkative mood. The Car is one of a long string of similar vehicles, and is proceeding at a rapid rate along one of the winding roads._

_The Muzzy Man_. Frivolous, am I? Well, we _came_ 'ere to be frivolous--to a certain extent. Am I out of the way in anything I've said? Because I woke this morning with a dry month, and I don't mind saying I've had a little drop o' brandy since.

_His Neighbour_. You might let people find out that for themselves, _I_ should think!

_The Muzzy M._ No--I like to be honest and straightforward, I do. I don't want to be out of the _way_, you understand.

_The Shopkeeper's Wife_ (_to her Neighbour_). This is a pretty part of the road we're on now--but, lor! there's nothing 'ere to come up to the Isle of Man. Douglas, now--that _is_ a nice place, with all them Music Halls! And the scenery--why, I'm sure I felt sometimes as if I _must_ stop, just to _look_ at it!

_The Muzzy Man_. I consider scenery we're coming to most beautiful I've seen for--for miles around. [_He goes to sleep._

_The Shopkeeper_ (_to the Elderly G., who is shifting and turning about uneasily_). Lost anything, Sir?

_The E.G._ No--thank you, no. I was looking to see whether GREEN the Guide was on the car. (_Shouts of laughter are heard from the car behind._) Ah, _that's_ GREEN the Guide! I wish he'd come on our oar--very amusing fellow, Sir--capital company!

_The Morose M._ (_to the Young Lady 'on his Left_) Who's GREEN the Guide?

_The Y.L._ Oh, don't you know? He comes with the cars and makes jokes and all that. I hope he'll come to us.

_The Mor. M._ _I_ don't. I can do that sort of thing for myself if I want to, I hope. [_With a scowl._

_The Y.L._ Well, there's no harm in _hoping_!

_The Serious Comm. T._ (_to his neighbour--one of the Shop-ladies_). So you come from Birmingham? Dear me, now. I used to be there very often on business at one time. Do you know the Rev. Mr. PODGER there? A good old gentleman, he is. I used to attend his Chapel regular--most improving discourses he used to give us. I am fond of a good Sermon, aren't you? &c.

[_He imagines--not altogether correctly--that he is producing an agreeable impression._

_A Young Man in a Frock-coat, Canvas-shoes, and Cloth-cap._ Scarborough? Yes, I've _been_ there--but I don't care about it much. You have to _dress_ such a lot there, y' know, and I like to come out just as I am!

[_The conversation, notwithstanding its brilliancy, is beginning to flag--when the car is boarded by a stalwart good-looking man, carrying a banjo, and wearing a leather shoulder-belt with "GREEN the Guide" in brass letters upon it; the Elderly Gentleman, and most of the Ladies welcome him with effusion, while the Younger Men appear to resent his appearance._

_The Mor. M._ (_sotto voce_). If he's going to play that old instrument of torture, I shall _howl_, that's all!

_Green the Guide_ (_in a deep baritone voice_). Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, I congratulate you upon having a fine day for our excursion. My glass went up three feet this morning.

_The Morose Man_ (_aggressively_). Was there whiskey inside it?

_Green the Guide_. No, Sir, it would have gone down suddenly if there had been. (_The_ Elderly G. _asks for a song_.) I shall be delighted to entertain you to the best of my ability. What would you like to have?

_The Mor. M._ None of your songs--give us an imitation--of a deaf and dumb man.

_Green the G._ (_with perfect good-humour_). I shall be happy to do the deaf man, Sir,--if you'll help me by doing the dumb. (_The_ Mor. M. _begins to feel that he had better leave_ GREEN the Guide _alone._) Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, I'll sing you a good old-fashioned hunting-song, and I'll ask you to join me in the Chorus.

[_He sings "We'll all go out hunting to-day!"_

_The Mor. M._ (_after the First Verse_). The beggar don't sing so badly. I will say _that_ for him! (_After the Third._) Capital voice he has! Rattling good Chorus, too! "Join the glad throng that goes laughing along, and we'll all go a-hunting to-day!" (_At the end._) Bravo! encore! encore!

[_His good-humour is suddenly and miraculously restored._

_Green the G._ (_in a tone of instruction_). You will notice that the thistle is very abundant just here, Ladies and Gentlemen. The reason of _that_, is that some years ago a vessel was wrecked on this part of the coast which was sailing from Scotland with a cargo of thistledown. (_Outcry of incredulity_.) If you don't believe me, ask the Coachman.

_The Coachman_ (_stolidly_). It's a fact, Gentlemen, I assure you.

_G. the G._ The soil of Jersey is remarkably productive; if you plant a sixpence, it will come up a shilling in no time. The cabbages on this island grow to an extraordinary height, frequently attaining twenty feet--(_outcry_)--yes, if you measure up one side, and down the other. (_They pass a couple of sheep on a slope._) The finest flock of sheep in the island. The dark one is not black, only a little sunburnt. The house you see on that hill over there was formerly slept in by CHARLES THE SECOND. He left a pair of slippers behind him--which have since grown into top-boots. There you see the only windmill in this part of the island--there _used_ to be three, but it was found there was not enough wind for them all. From here you have a clear view of the coast of France; and, when the wind is blowing in this direction, you have an excellent opportunity of acquiring the French accent in all its purity. (_This string of somewhat hoary chestnuts meets with a success beyond their intrinsic merits, the_ Morose Man _being as much entertained as anybody._) On your right is an inland lake of fresh water--

_The Muzzy Man_ (_waking up with sudden interest_). Can you drink it with perfect impunity?

_G. the G._ Depends how far you are accustomed to it as a beverage, Sir. (_The car stops at an hotel._) We stop here two hours, Ladies and Gentlemen, to enable you to lunch, and examine the caves afterwards. You can leave anything you like on the cars except five-pound notes--and they _might_ get blown away!

ON THE WAY HOME.

_The Shopkeeper's Wife_ (_to her Husband_). Ah, TOM, it's just as well you stayed behind--you'd never have got through those caves! You wouldn't believe I could ha' done it unless you'd seen me--clambering down iron ladders, and jumping on to rocks, and squeezing through tunnels, and then up a cliff like the side of a house. I do _wish_ you could ha' seen me, TOM!

_Tom_ (_philosophically_). Ah, well, I was very comfortable where I was, settin' in the hotel room there, smoking my pipe. GREEN the Guide gave us, "_Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep_," in first-rate style--he is a _singer_, and no mistake!

_His Wife_. Lor, I wish I'd known he was going to sing--I'd ha' stayed too! But here he is, waiting by the road for us--I do hope he's going to sing again!

_Green the G._ (_mounting the car_). I fear I am an unwelcome visitor.

_The Eld. G._ (_graciously_). It would be the first time in your life then, GREEN!

_G. the G._ Well, the fact is, I come to levy a little contribution on behalf of myself and the Coachman. Times are hard, Gentlemen, and both of us have large families to support. If you don't believe me, ask the Coachman. (_The Elderly G. explains that his wrappings prevent him from getting at his purse just then, while the others contribute with more or less readiness and liberality_.) Many thanks. Ladies and Gentlemen, on behalf of myself and the Coachman, and to express my sense of your generosity, I will sing you the great Jersey National Song, composed by myself, before leaving. (_He sings a ditty with the following spirited Chorus_):--

There the streets are paved with granite. So neat and clean And lots of pretty, witty girls, are always to be seen! With the brave old Mi-litia, Our foes to defy! And there they grow the Cabba-ges--Ten feet high! (_All together, Gentlemen, please_!) Yes, there they grow the Cabbages, there they grow the Cabbages, there they grow the Cabbages--Ten feet high!

Thank you, Gentlemen, I've sung that song a number of times, and I never remember hearing the chorus better sung. If you don't believe me, ask the Coachman.

_Coachman._ _I've_ never 'eard it better sung, Ladies and Gentlemen, I assure you.

[_GREEN the Guide descends in a blaze of popularity, and the "Royal Blue" rolls on in excellent spirits._

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POLITICAL TRAINING.

_Monday_.--Read Mr. CHAMBERLAIN's remarks on abstinence from bodily exercise. Sold my bicycle, and gave away all my rackets, bats, &c. Resolved to follow the latest system. Shall doubtless, by these means, reach Mr. C.'s high position as a statesman and orator. Went out in a Bath-chair. Five minutes after starting, man said he was not accustomed to drag so heavy an invalid, and must rest a little. Tried a speech--my maiden one--on the Disadvantages of Bodily Exercise. He listened respectfully, and, when at last I had finished, said he quite agreed with me, and that the fare was seven shillings.