Part 1

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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

VOLUME 105, JULY 15TH 1893

_edited by Sir Francis Burnand_

AN AFTERNOON PARTY.

... "The room is full of celebrities. Do you see that tall woman in black, talking to the little old lady? That is Mrs. ARBUTHNOT--a woman of some importance--and the other is CHARLEY'S Aunt. The sporting-looking young man is Captain CODDINGTON, who is 'in town' for the season."

"And who are the two men, exactly alike, tall and dark, who are smoking gold-tipped cigarettes, and talking epigrams?" I asked. I like to know who people are, and the person in the silver domino seemed well-informed.

"Those are Lord ILLINGWORTH, and Lord HENRY WOTTON. They always say exactly the same things. They are awfully clever, and cynical. Those two ladies talking together are known as NORA and DORA. There's rather a curious story about each of them."

"There seems to be one about everyone here," I said.

"Well, it seems that NORA and her husband did not get on very well. He thought skirt-dancing morbid. Also, he forgave her for forging his name--in type-writing--to a letter refusing to subscribe to a wedding-present for Princess MAY. She said a man who would forgive a thing like that would forgive anything. So she left the Dolls' House."

"Quite right. Is that not the Comtesse ZICKA? I seem to recognise the scent."

"It is--and the beautiful Italian lady is Madame SANTUZZA. One meets all sorts of people here, you know; by the way, there's Mrs. TANQUERAY."

"Princess SALOME!" announced the servant. A little murmur of surprise seemed to go round the room as the lovely Princess entered.

"What _has_ she got on?" asked PORTIA.

"Oh, it's nothing," replied Mr. WALKER, London.

"I thought she was not received in English society," said Lady WINDERMERE, puritanically.

"I can assure you, my dears, that she would not be tolerated in Brazil, where the nuts come from," exclaimed CHARLEY'S Aunt.

"There's no harm in her. She's only a little peculiar. She is particularly fond of boar's head. It's nothing," said Mr. WALKER.

"The uninvitable in pursuit of the indigestible," murmured Lord ILLINGWORTH, as he lighted a cigarette.

"Is that mayonnaise?'" asked the Princess SALOME of Captain CODDINGTON, who had taken her to the buffet. "I think it is mayonnaise. I am sure it is mayonnaise. It is mayonnaise of salmon, pink as a branch of coral which fishermen find in the twilight of the sea, and which they keep for the King. It is pinker than the pink roses that bloom in the Queen's garden. The pink roses that bloom in the garden of the Queen of Arabia are not so pink."

"Who's the jaded-looking Anglo-Indian, drinking brandy-and-soda?" I asked.

"That is a Plain young man. From the Hills. Which is curious. I am much attached to him. By the way, I know who I am. And why I wear a silver domino. You don't."

"That's another story," I said. "Let's go to the smoking-room. We shall find the Eminent Person, the Ordinary Man, the Poet, the Journalist, and the Mere Boy, and they will all say delightful things on painful subjects."

"Barry Paynful," suggested the Mere Boy, with his usual impossibility. They were trying to "draw" Lord ILLINGWORTH.

"What is a good woman?" asked the Journalist.

"A woman who admires bad men," answered Lord ILLINGWORTH.

"What is a bad man?"

"A man who smokes gold-tipped cigarettes."

"Which would you rather, or go fishing?" inquired the Mere Boy, irreverently.

"Because it's a jar, of course. There are two kinds of women, the plain and the coloured. But all art is quite useless."

"I say!" exclaimed Lord HENRY, taking from his friend's pocket a gold match-box, curiously carved, and wrought with his initials in chrysoprases and peridots. "I say, you know, ILLINGWORTH--come--that's mine. I said it to DORIAN only the other evening. You're always saying my things."

"Well, what then? It is only the obvious and the tedious who object to quotations. When a man says life has exhausted him----"

"We know that he has exhausted life."

"Women are secrets, not sphinxes."

"Mine again," exclaimed Lord HENRY.

"It would be useful to carry a little book to note down your good things."

"Very useful. And I can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it."

"That's New Humour, isn't it? And you're a New Humourist?" said WALKER, satirically. "Why, it's a contradiction in itself! The very essence of a joke is, that it should be old. Where would you find anything funnier than the riddle, 'When is a door not a door?' and, 'Why does a miller wear a white hat?' Ah! it won't last--we're bound to go back to the 'Old Humour'--there's nothing like it--what is that noise?"

"A dispute has arisen in the ladies' cloak-room about a shawl. It's frightfully thrilling!" said HILDA WANGEL.

"They seem to be going on anyhow. It's nothing," said WALKER.

It appears that CHARLEY'S Aunt had accused Princess SALOME of taking her shawl. The Princess had indignantly thrown it at her, and was making rather rude personal remarks about it.

"I don't want your shawl. Your shawl is hideous. It is covered with dust. It is a tartan shawl. It is like the shawl worn in melodrama by the injured heroine who is about to throw herself over the bridge by moonlight. It is the shawl of a betrayed heroine in melodrama. There never was anything so hideous as your shawl!"

"Impertinence! To dare to speak to me like this! I'm the success of the season, and _you_ were forbidden the country," said CHARLEY'S Aunt, furiously.

The second Mrs. TANQUERAY here chimed in, giving her opinion, which did not add to the harmony of the gathering, and a secondary quarrel was going on, because Captain CODDINGTON had said that the scent Comtesse ZICKA used "was not quite up to date," and the latter was offended. In fact, there was a regular row all round. NORA banged her tambourine, and WALKER playfully pretended to hide his head behind Lady WINDERMERE'S fan.

At last, however, we managed to calm the indignant ladies, and the party began to break up.

"The fact is," I said, "Society is getting a great deal too mixed. Now, I like to go away from an afternoon party feeling a purer and better man, my eyes filled with tears of honest English sentiment----"

"Great Scott! don't go on like that. Come and have a drink," said the SILVER DOMINO.

"Valour is the better part of indiscretion," murmured Lord ILLINGWORTH. "Good-bye, HENRY. It has been a most interesting afternoon."

* * * * *

LORD'S AND SANDOWN.

["The Eclipse Stakes of 10,000 sovs., to be run at Sandown Park on Friday, July 14, is looked upon as practically a match between Baron DE HIRSCH'S filly, _La Fleche_, and the Duke of WESTMINSTER'S colt, _Orme_."--_Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News._]

The match between Eton and Harrow at Lord's This week, which commences on Friday, Because of the sport that it always affords, Will draw a large crowd on that high-day. But the interest taken in drive, cut, or catch, Or as to which school will be beaten, Will be nothing to that in the other great match, The same day, 'tween The Arrow and Eaton.

* * * * *

* * * * *

ROSEBERY TO THE RESCUE!

_Or, the Young Squire, the Unjust Steward, and the Grateful Ratepayer. An Urban Drama, as lately performed at the County Hall, Spring Gardens._

(_Enter_ Steward, _bearing plans of a splendid, and expensive, Palace_.)

_Steward (looking lovingly upon plan)._ Aha! Now shall I triumph, despite mean Moderates, and cheese-paring Economists, and reluctant Ratepayers. GR-R-R! how I hate the whole penurious brood! Housed appropriately I must and will be, though Rate Incidence be as yet ill-adjusted, and that blessed word Betterment be but an ear-soothing sound. But hold!--she comes!

_Enter_ Injured, but Beauteous, Ratepayer, _wringing her hands_.

_I. but B. R. (aside)._ Hah! Whom have we here? Merciless Master D-CK-NS-N, as I'm a living woman! Was't not enough that Vestries should vex me, Boards o'erburden me, Pedagogues oppress, and Precepts perplex, but _he_ too must turn against me? (_Aloud._) Give you good den, Master D.! Hast news of comfort for me?

_Steward (harshly)._ Woman, I know not what _thou_ wilt deem news of comfort. But if a superb site and a splendid structure (_pointing to Plan_) have charms for thy something straitened and sordid soul, then, verily----

_I. but B. R. (shrieking as she catches sight of the Plan, and the fair round Figures attached thereto)._ Alas, Mr. Steward! 'tis, as thou sayst, superb--splendid--and, what is more, prodigiously _expensive_ withal! It is _magnifique_, but it is _not_--Economy!

_Steward (scornfully)._ Expensive? Pooh! What matters a Million or twain so London's Guardians be well housed?

_I. but B. R._ But, in the words of the old game, where's the money to come from? Moreover, is it not understood that _all_ Metropolitan Improvements be postponed till such time as those ghouls of ground-renters, those ogres of property-owners, are compelled proportionally to disgorge?

_Steward._ Ahem! Truly so! But verily _this_ matter is exceptional and urgent. "Who drives fat oxen should himself be fat;" and they who superintend the People's housing should surely themselves be adequately, not to say magnificently, housed. As to the money--why, fear not for thy pockets Dame, which are not yet utterly depleted by that Briarean blood-sucker, BUMBLE. Why, we shall right soon save the money in cab-fares, and--ahem!--other comforts and conveniences for our committees, not to mention the purchasing of supplementary tenements "at the rate of two houses a year." Oh, be content, Dame; pay up, and look pleasant! (_Imperatively._)

_I. but B. R. (frantically)._ Alas! Is there, then, no hope? Will _no_ one bring a rescue or two? "Oh, where is County (Council) Guy?"

_Enter the_ Young Squire, _hastily_.

_Young Squire (hurriedly arrived from heavy business and urgent elsewhere, but impelled by a sense of public duty to intervene on this occasion)._ HERE!! (_Chord._) Be consoled, Dame--_I_ will protect thee! And for thee, Sir Steward, what the mischief art up to, with thy Aladdin Palaces, and thine Odd Millions?

_Steward (confused, and displaying Plan)._ Why, my lord--deeming it befitting--that so illustrious and important and ubiquitously influential a Body--as--Ourselves--should have a Local Habitation--as well as a Name--I have prepared--this little Plan--which, with the aid--of "a little cheque"--say for a trifle of Two Millions----

_Young Squire (snatching Plan from his grasp and gazing angrily thereon)._ Aha! A veritable Castle in the Air! An Arabian Nights' Phantom Palace!! The House that Jack (in Office) _would have_ built!!! (_Tears it, and treads it under foot._) Nay, Sir Steward, thou hast much misunderstood thy trust. The housing of the poor, rather than of the rich, is thy prime function. Attend first to this little list of Metropolitan Improvements, which cannot be unfamiliar to thine ears and eyes. Or if _they_ must perforce be postponed until the attainment of "a fairer adjustment of the incidence of taxation," prythee, _a fortiori_, postpone also until that uncertain date this precious scheme for an expensive Municipal Palace, and this premature and impudent assault upon an already sufficiently depleted Pocket!

_I. but B. R. (clasping her hands in gratitude)._ Ah, thanks, noble youth! Heaven reward thee for thy magnanimous championship of the poor gyurl's purse!

_Steward (aside)._ Foiled!!! But no mattah! a time will come!!!

(_Curtain._)

* * * * *

"M. G." AND "G. M."--The first whispered proposal is, we believe, generally formulated thus, "May I then hope? May I?" But H.R.H. the Duke of YORK'S proposal must have been even more simple than this, for hope being changed into certainty, there was only the whispered question, "MAY GEORGE?" and the gentle answer, "GEORGE MAY." Then--all ended happily.

* * * * *

THE POLICE PHRASE-BOOK.

AS USED IN FRANCE.

I have no time to answer questions.

The slightest protest will mean arrest.

You will cause me to draw my sword.

I have a loaded revolver.

We must take that barricade.

We must obtain the help of the army.

We can assist bayonets with bullets.

We have no cause to succour the wounded.

We must preserve order.

And, to do this, we cry, "Long live France! Fire upon any one! Charge!"

AS USED IN ENGLAND.

The first turning to the left. Sir, and then keep straight on until you meet another constable--then ask again.

You have taken too much; you had better go home quietly. Shall I call a cab?

Now don't forget you are a gentleman, Sir, but help me to do my duty.

Now, coachman, wait a moment. Must let these pass before you can come.

We don't want any help, Sir. Why the crowd's as meek as sheep and as good natured as sandboys.

Here, Sir, you have had an awkward tumble. Let me hold you up while my mate goes for an ambulance.

We must preserve order.

And to do this we have only to observe "move on."

* * * * *

PARLIAMENTARY.--Change of name. Mr. CONYBEARE henceforth to be known as "CONYBORE," with the accent on the "_bore_."

* * * * *

* * * * *

PROPHETIC DIARY OF THE L.C.C.

(_For the Next Ten Years._)

1894. Scheme accepted for building Hotel de Ville at a cost of L3,000,000.

1895. Purchase of Kensington Gardens as a Recreation-ground for the Improvement Committee.

1896. The Council buys St. Paul's Cathedral as a Private Chapel for the marriage of its members and their families.

1897. Completion of _The Bumble_ Steam-yacht of the L. C. C., costing L100,000.

1898. Uniforms for the Members ordered at an expense of L500,000.

1899. Purchase of a Crown and other Jewels for the Chairman on State occasions.

1900. The Palaces erected for occupation by the Members in Eaton, Belgrave, Grosvenor, and Berkeley Squares acquired and taken into use.

1901. A sum not exceeding L5,000,000 voted by the L. C. C. for statues commemorating themselves, their wives, and their families.

1902. Resolution carried by acclamation confiscating the entire sum received from the ratepayers for the L. C. C. Secret Service Fund.

1903. Petition for Metropolitan Improvement unanimously rejected.

1904. Act abolishing the L. C. C. passed in Parliament at a single sitting.

* * * * *

"COMMONS PRESERVATION SOCIETY."--A most useful body, no doubt. "But," asks Lord T. NODDIE, "as our Upper House is so often threatened, why isn't there a "Lords Preservation Society?"

* * * * *

DANCE TILL DAWN.

Charming maidens, smiling brightly, Moving gracefully and lightly As the fawn, Linger still, let me invite you, Surely on this short June night you Dance till dawn.

Till the early bird will get the Worm, and seaside shrimpers net the Shrimp or prawn. Whilst they print the morning paper, Let us glide and whirl and caper Till the dawn.

Till, with waking chirp of sparrows, Early costermongers' barrows Forth are drawn. Till the candles flare and gutter. And the daylight, through the shutter, Peeps at dawn;

Till the cock is crowing; listen! And the dainty dewdrops glisten On the lawn; Till my pretty partner's posies, Made of June's delightful roses, Droop at dawn;

Till my collar's limp and flabby-- Then I hail the sleepy cabby, As I yawn; Home, to dream of sweet cheeks blushing Like the sky, now rosy flushing At the dawn.

* * * * *

TRES BEAU-TANICAL.--An Aladdin-like Magic-Lamp and Magic-Lantern Night at the Botanical Gardens on Wednesday. A thousand additional traditional lamps. The Flower of the Aristocracy, being at the State Ball, is represented by the Aristocracy of Flowers (in the absence of Lord and Lady BATTERSEA, without whom no Floral _Fete_ can be absolutely perfect) in every part of these beautiful gardens. Bands playing; but not sufficient distance between them, so that when they performed, simultaneously, entirely different tunes, the effect was far from soothing to the listeners' nerves. Why not adopt the plan admirably carried out at the Marlborough House Garden Party, where one band having finished, another, at a distance, commenced? Why among the harmony of colours at the Botanical should there be produced by the conflict of two tunes, taken in different times, but played at the same moment, an inharmonious whole?

* * * * *

LADIES' FASHIONS.--Extremes: _Minimum_--Bonnet; a ribbon and rosette. _Maximum_--Hat; a Flower Garden on a Yard of Straw.

* * * * *

THE MODERN NYMPH'S REPLY TO THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD.

If times were as when time was young, And reason ruled each shepherd's tongue, Thy pretty speeches might me move, To live with thee, and be thy love.

But times are changed in field and fold, At shocking prices sheep are sold, And farmers look exceeding glum, Foreboding darker days to come.

The weeds do choke the thriftless fields, No profit now the harvest yields; Honey is sought, but only gall Is found, for still the prices fall.

Thy pinks, thy stocks, thy Provence roses, Are pretty, and I'm fond of posies; But wages may not long be gotten When folly's rife, and business rotten.

A man of straw thy master seems, No grain of sense is in thy dreams, And my Papa would not approve Even if I would be thy love.

But, when times mend, sheep-farms succeed, And all on English mutton feed, Ask me again, and thou may'st move, To live with thee, and be thy love.

* * * * *

OPERATIC NOTES.

_Tuesday, July 4. State Visit to the Opera._--Yes, "TODGERS'S could do it when it liked," as CHARLES DICKENS remarked in _Martin Chuzzlewit_, and Sir COVENTGARDENSIS DRURIOLANUS can do it when _he_ likes, rather! The front of the house is quite a "mask of flowers," which the Master of the Gray's Inn Revels, himself present in a gorgeous and awe-inspiring uniform, regards with a benign and appreciative smile. Interesting to note a number of ordinarily quiet and unobtrusive individuals, personally known to me as the mildest-mannered men, who now appear as the fiercest, and, on such a night, the hottest of warriors; seeing that if it is 98 in the shade, the temperature must be ten degrees higher to those who are buttoned up to the chin in a military uniform, with straps, belts, buckles, boots, weighted too with a dangling, clattering sword, and having to carry about a thickly-furred hat, with a plume in it like a shaving-brush, that obstinately refuses to be hung up, or sat upon, or put out of sight, in any sort of way whatever, and which, like a baby in arms, must be carried,--or dropped. The Venetians on the stage in all their mediaeval bravery are not arrayed like one of these simple English yeomen, for, as I am given to understand, to that glorious body of our country's agricultural defenders do these dashing Hussars, in their Hessian-fly boots, belong! Ah! with such warriors England is safe!

Then there are what _Mr. Weller_ would have termed "My Prooshan Blues," and likewise the diplomatic Muscovite, in hard-looking cap, blue, naval-looking coat, and (apparently) flannel boating trousers, falling, rather short, on to ordinary boots, with plain unornamental spurs; a costume which, on the whole, suggests that its wearer, at the command of the Autocrat of all the Russias, must be ready at a second's notice to execute a forced march, dance a hornpipe, run as a footman, take somebody up as a policeman, head a cavalry charge, or (still in spurs) steer a torpedo boat on its dangerous errand. Opera going strong, with the DE FRISKY Bros. & Co. The Last Act (by Royal Command) is omitted, and so for the first time in dramatic history the story of _Romeo and Juliet_ ends as happily as possible. The lovers are only interrupted by the fall of the curtain, and there are no sleeping draughts, poisonings, or burials. It is a realisation of the line in _The Critic_, "In the Queen's name I charge you all to drop your swords and daggers!" Only the order is given in the Princess's name, and the swords, daggers, and deadly draughts are all dropped accordingly. Greatest possible success. _Gloria_ DRURIOLANO!

_Friday Night._--First performance of _I Rantzau_, and first-rate performance, too. The Plot is simply a Plot of Land. Scene laid--laid for seven _dramatis personae_--in a Vague Village of the Vosges; time, present century. The Rantzaus are the Capulets and Montagues of this district; the son of one faction is in love with the daughter of the other; but it doesn't end tragically, and the lovers marry. That's all. It was played as a Drama at the Francais, with GOT in it; when subsequently it was turned into an Opera, it had the "Go" taken out of it. DE LUCIA, ANCONA, CASTELMARY, BISPHAM, and CORSI doing their very best, as do also the lamplighter and his assistant, who deftly perform their "Wagnerian watchman" "business" to characteristic music. Mlle. BAUERMEISTER great in a small part; and Madame MELBA does her very best with the singularly uninteresting part of _Luisa_, who is a very "Limited Loo." Signor MASCAGNI conducted the Opera, and was himself conducted on to the stage as often as possible in order to receive the congratulations of his "friends in front." _I Rantzau_ not "in it" with MASCAGNI'S _Cavalleria_, which, like the Rantzau family at the end of the piece, "still holds the field." Thermometer 95 deg. in the stalls. House animated and appreciative.

_Saturday._--_Les Huguenots._ Grand Cast. Thermometer down again.

* * * * *

A DITTY OF THE DOG-DAYS.