Chapter 7

shabby street, slimy and straw-bestrewn. Yard is paved with lumpy, irregular cobbles, and some sooty and shaky-looking sheds stand at the bottom thereof. Enter together, Clerical Gent and Inexperienced Person._

_C.G._ (_smiling apologetically_). Not exactly palatial premises for an animal used to _my_ stables at Wickham-in-the-Wold! But I know these people, Sir; they are kind as Christians, and as honest as the day. Hoy! TOM! TOM!! TOM!!! Are you there, TOM? [_From the shed emerges a very small boy with very short hair, and a very long livery, several sizes too large for him, the tail of the brass-buttoned coat and the bottoms of the baggy trousers alike sweeping the cobbles as he shambles forward_]. (_C.G. genially_.) Ah, there you are, TOM, my lad. Bring out dear old _Bogey_, and show it to my friend here. [_Boy leads out a rusty roan Rosinante, high in bone, and low in flesh, with prominent hocks, and splay hoofs, which stumble gingerly over the cobbles._] (_Patting the horse affectionately._) Ah, poor old _Bogey_, he doesn't like these lumpy stones, does he? Not used to them, Sir. My stable-yard at Wickham-in-the-Wold, is as smoothly paved as--as the Alhambra, Sir. I always _consider_ my animals, Sir. A merciful man is merciful to his beast, as the good book says. But _isn't_ he a Beauty?

_I.P._ Well--ahem!--ye-es; he looks a kind, gentle, steady sort of a creature. But--ahem!--what's the matter with his knees?

_C.G._ Oh, nothing, Sir, nothing at all. Only a habit he has got _along of kind treatment_. Like us when we "stand at ease," you know, a bit baggy, that's all. You should see him after a twenty miles spin along our Wickham roads, when my wife and I are doing a round of visits among the neighbouring gentry. Ah, _Bogey, Bogey_, old boy--_kissing his nose_--I don't know what Mrs. G. and the girls will say when they hear I've parted with you--if I do, _if_ I do.

_Enter two horsey-looking Men as though in search of something._

_First Horsey Man_. Ah, here you are. Well, look 'ere, are you going to take Thirty Pounds for that horse o' yourn? Yes or No!

_C.G._ (_turning upon them with dignity_). _No_, Sir; most emphatically _No!_ I've told you before I will not sell him to you at _any_ price. Have the goodness to leave us--_at once_, I'm engaged with my friend here.

[_Horsey Men turn away despondently. Enter hurriedly, a shabby-looking Groom._

_Groom_. Oh, look here, Mister--er--er--wot's yer name? His Lordship wants to know whether you'll take his offer of Thirty-five Pounds--_or_ Guineas--for that roan. He wouldn't offer as much, only it happens jest to match--

_C.G._ (_with great decisiveness_). Inform his Lordship, with my compliments, that I regret to be entirely unable to entertain his proposition.

_Groom_. Oh, _very_ well. But I wish you'd jest step out and tell his Lordship so yerself. He's jest round the corner at the 'otel entrance, a flicking of his boots, as irritated as a blue-bottle caught in a cowcumber frame.

_C.G._ Oh, _certainly_, with pleasure. (_To I.P._) If you'll excuse me, Sir, just one moment, I'll step out and speak to his Lordship.

[_Exit, followed by_ Groom.

_Horsey Person_ (_making a rush at I.P. as soon as C.G. has disappeared, speaking in a breathless hurry_). Now lookye here, guv'nor--sharp's the word! He'll be back in arf a jiff. _You buy that 'oss!_ He won't sell it to _us_, bust 'im; but you've got 'im in a string, you 'ave. He'll sell it to _you_ for eighteen quid--p'raps sixteen. _Buy_ it, Sir, buy it! We'll be outside, by the pub at the corner, my pal and me, and--(_producing notes_)--we'll take it off you agen for _thirty pounds_, and glad o' the charnce. We want it pertikler, we do, and you can 'elp us, and put ten quid in your own pocket too as easy as be blowed. Ah! here he is! Mum's the word! Round the corner by the pub! [_Exeunt hurriedly._

_Clerical Gent_ (_blandly_). Ah! _that's_ settled. His Lordship was angry, but I was firm. Take _Bogey_ back to the stable, TOM--_unless_, of course--(_looking significantly at Inexperienced Person_).

_Inexperienced Person_ (_hesitating_). Well, I'm not sure but what the animal would suit me, and--ahem!--if you care to trust it to me--

_Clerical Gent_ (_joyously_). Trust it to _you_, Sir? Why, with pleasure, with every confidence. Dear old _Bogey_! He'll be happy with such a master--ah, and do him service too. I tell you, Sir, that horse, to a quiet, considerate sort o' gent like yourself, who wants to _work_ his animal, not to wear it out, is worth forty pound, every penny of it--and cheap at the price!

_I.P._ Thanks! And--ah--what _is_ the figure?

_C.G._ Why--ah--eighteen--no, dash it!--sixteen _to you_, and say no more about it.

[_Inexperienced Person closes with the offer, hands notes to Clerical Gent (who, under pressure of business, hurries off), takes Bogey from the grinning groom-lad, leads him--with difficulty--out into the street, searches vainly for the two horsey Men, who, like "his Lordship," have utterly and finally disappeared, and finds himself left alone in a bye-thoroughfare with a "horse," which he cannot get along anyhow, and which he is presently glad to part with to a knacker for thirty shillings._

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WRITE AND WRONG.

As so many private letters are sold at public sales nowadays, it has become necessary to consider the purport of every epistle regarded, so to speak, from a _post-mortem_ point of view. If a public man expresses a confidential opinion in the fulness of his heart to an intimate friend, or proposes an act of charity to a cherished relative, he may rest assured that, sooner or later, both communications will be published to an unsympathetic and autograph-hunting world. Under these circumstances it may be well to answer the simplest communications in the most guarded manner possible. For instance, a reply to a tender of hospitality might run as follows:--

_Private and Confidential. Not negotiable._

Mr. DASH BLANK has much pleasure in accepting Mr. BLANK DASH's invitation to dinner on the 8th inst.

_N.B.--This letter is the property of the Writer. Not for publication. All rights reserved._

Or, if the writer feels that his letter, if it gets into the hands of the executors, will be sold, he must adopt another plan. It will be then his object to so mix up abuse of the possible vendors with ordinary matter, that they (the possible vendors) may shrink, after the death of the recipient, from making their own condemnation public. The following may serve as a model for a communication of this character. The words printed in italics in the body of the letter are the antidotal abuse introduced to prevent a posthumous sale by possible executors.

_Private and Confidential. Not to be published. Signature a forgery._

DEAR OLD MAN,--I nearly completed my book. _Your nephew, TOM LESLEIGH, is an ass._ My wife is slowly recovering from influenza. _Your Aunt, JANE JENKINS, wears a wig._ TOMMY, you will be glad to learn, has come out first of twenty in his new class at school. _Your Uncle, BENJAMIN GRAHAM, is a twaddling old bore._ I am thinking of spending the Midsummer holidays with the boys and their mother at Broadstairs. _Your Cousin, JACK JUGGERLY, is a sweep that doesn't belong to a single respectable Club._ Trusting that you will burn this letter, to prevent its sale after we are gone,

I remain, yours affectionately,

BOBBY.

_N.B.--The foregoing letter is the property of the Author, and, as it is only intended for private circulation, must not be printed. Solicitors address,--Ely Place_.

But perhaps the best plan will be, not to write at all. The telegraph, at the end of the century, costs but a halfpenny a word, and we seem to be within measurable distance of the universal adoption of the telephone. Under these circumstances, it is easy to take heed of the warning contained in that classical puzzle of our childhood, _Litera scripta manet_.

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A QUESTION OF TASTE.

_Mr. Punch_. Well, Madam, what can I do for you?

_Female_ (_of Uncertain Age, gushingly_). A very great favour, my dear Sir; it is a matter of sanitation.

_Mr. P._ (_coldly_). I am at your service, Madam, but I would remind you that I have no time to listen to frivolous complaints.

_Fem._ I would ask you--do you think that a building open to the public should be crowded with double as many persons as it can conveniently hold?

_Mr. P._ Depends upon circumstances, Madam. It might possibly be excusable in a Church, assuming that the means of egress were sufficient. Of what building do you wish to complain?

_Fem._ Of the Old Bailey--you know, the Central Criminal Court.

_Mr. P._ Have you to object to the accommodation afforded you in the Dock?

_Fem._ _I_ was not in the Dock!

_Mr. P._ (_dryly_). That is the only place (when not in the Witness-Box) suitable for women at the Old Bailey. I cannot imagine that they would go to that unhappy spot of their own free will.

_Fem._ (_astonished_). Not to see a Murder trial? Then you are evidently unaccustomed to ladies' society.

_Mr. P._ (_severely_). I do not meet _ladies_ at the Old Bailey.

_Fem._ (_bridling up_). Indeed! But that is nothing to do with the matter of the overcrowding. Fancy, with our boasted civilisation--I was _half_ stifled!

_Mr. P._ It is a pity, with our boasted civilisation, that you were not stifled--_quite!_ (_Severely._) You can go!

[_The Female retires, with an expression worthy of her proper place--the Chamber of Horrors!_

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NONOGENARIAN NONSENSE.

(_COMPILED À LA MODE._)

I have so often been urged by my friends to write my autobiography, that at length I have taken up my pen to comply with their wishes. My memory, although I may occasionally become slightly mixed, is still excellent, and having been born in the first year of the present century I consequently can remember both the Plague and Fire of London. The latter is memorable to me as having been the cause of my introduction to Sir CHRISTOPHER WREN, an architect of some note, and an intimate friend of Sir JOSHUA REYNOLDS, and the late Mr. TURNER, R.A. Sir CHRISTOPHER had but one failing--he was never sober. To the day of his death he was under the impression that St. Paul's was St. Peter's!

One of my earliest recollections is the great physician HARVEY, who, indeed, knew me from my birth. Although an exceedingly able man, he was a confirmed glutton. He would at the most ceremonious of dinner-parties push his way through the guests (treating ladies and gentlemen with the like discourtesy) and plumping himself down in front of the turtle soup, would help himself to the entire contents of the tureen, plus the green fat! During the last years of his life he abandoned medicine to give his attention to cookery, and (so I have been told) ultimately invented a fish sauce!

I knew HOWARD, the so-called philanthropist, very well. He was particularly fond of dress, although extremely economical in his washing bill. It was his delight to visit the various prisons and obtain a hideous pleasure in watching the tortures of the poor wretches therein incarcerated. He was fined and imprisoned for ill-treating a cat, if my memory does not play me false. I have been told that he once stole a pockethandkerchief, but at this distance of time cannot remember where I heard the story.

It is one of my proudest recollections that, in early youth, I had the honour of being presented to her late most gracious Majesty, Queen ANNE, of glorious memory. The drawing-room was held at Buckingham Palace, which in those days was situated on the site now occupied by Marlborough House. I accompanied my mother, who wore, I remember, yellow brocade, and a wreath of red roses, without feathers. Round the throne were grouped--the Duke of MARLBOROUGH (who kept in the background because he had just been defeated at Fontenoy), Lord PALMERSTON, nick-named "Cupid" by Mistress NELL GWYNNE (a well-known Court beauty), Mr. GARRICK, and Signor GRIMALDI, two Actors of repute, and Cardinal WISEMAN, the Papal Nuncio. Her Majesty was most gracious to me, and introduced me to one of her predecessors, Queen ELIZABETH, a reputed daughter of King HENRY THE EIGHTH. Both Ladies laughed heartily at my curls, which in those days were more plentiful than they are now. I was rather alarmed at their lurching forward as I passed them, but was reassured when the Earl of ROCHESTER (the Lord Chamberlain) whispered in my ear that the Royal relatives had been lunching. As I left the presence, I noticed that both their Majesties were fast asleep.

I have just mentioned Lord ROCHESTER, whose acquaintance I had the honour to possess. He was extremely austere, and very much disliked by the fair sex. On one occasion it was my privilege to clean his shoes. He had but one failing--he habitually cheated at cards. I will now tell a few stories of the like character about Bishop WILBERFORCE, THACKERAY, Mrs. FRY, PEABODY, WALTER SCOTT, and Father MATTHEW.

[No you don't, my venerable twaddler!--ED.]

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THE LARGE CIGAR.

You lie on the oaken mantle-shelf, A cigar of high degree, An old cigar, a large cigar, A cigar that was given to me. The house-flies bite you day by day-- Bite you, and kick, and sigh-- And I do not know what the insects say, But they creep away and die.

My friends they take you gently up, And lay you gently down; They never saw a weed so big, Or quite so deadly brown. They, as a rule, smoke anything They pick up free of charge; But they leave you to rest while the bulbuls sing Through the night, my own, my large!

The dust lies thick on your bloated form, And the year draws to its close, And the baccy-jar's been emptied--by My laundress, I suppose. Smokeless and hopeless, with reeling brain, I turn to the oaken shelf, And take you down, while my hot tears rain, And smoke you, you brute, myself.

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ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

_House of Commons, Monday, December 1._--Tithes Bill down for Second Reading. GRAND YOUNG GARDNER places Amendment on the paper, which secures for him opportunity of making a speech. Having availed himself of this, did not move his Amendment; opening thus made for STUART-RENDEL, who had another Amendment on the paper. Would he move it? Only excitement of Debate settled round this point. Under good old Tory Government new things in Parliamentary procedure constantly achieved. Supposing half-a-dozen Members got together, drew up a number of Amendments, then ballot for precedence, they might arrange Debate without interposition of SPEAKER. First man gets off his speech, omits to move Amendment: second would come on, and so on, on to the end of list. But STUART-RENDEL moved Amendment, and on this Debate turned.

Not very lively affair, regarded as reflex of passionate protestation of angry little Wales. OSBORNE AP MORGAN made capital speech, but few remained to listen. Welshmen at outset meant to carry Debate over to next day; couldn't be done; and by half-past eleven, STUART-RENDEL's Amendment negatived by rattling majority.

Fact is, gallant little Wales was swamped by irruptive Ireland. To-day, first meeting of actual Home Rule Parliament held, and everybody watching its course. This historic meeting gathered in Committee-room No. 15; question purely one of Home Rule; decided, after some deliberation, that, in order to have proceedings in due dramatic form, there should be incorporated with the meeting an eviction scene. After prolonged Debate, concluded that, to do the thing thoroughly, they should select PARNELL as subject of eviction.

"No use," TIM HEALY said, "in half-doing the thing. The eyes of the Universe are fixed upon us. Let us give them a show for their money."

PARNELL, at first, demurred; took exception on the ground that, as he had no fixed place of residence, he was not convenient subject for eviction; objection over-ruled; then PARNELL insisted that, if he yielded on this point, he must preside over proceedings. TIM and the rest urged that it was not usual, when a man's conduct is under consideration upon a grave charge, that he should take the Chair. Drawing upon the resources of personal observation, Dr. TANNER remarked that he did not remember any case in which the holder of a tenure, suffering process of eviction, bossed the concern, acting simultaneously, as it were, as the subject of the eviction process, and the resident Magistrate.

Whilst conversation going on, PARNELL had unobserved taken the Chair, and now ruled Dr. TANNER out of order.

House sat at Twelve o'Clock; at One the Speaker (Mr. PARNELL), interrupting SEXTON in passage of passionate eloquence, said he thought this would be convenient opportunity for going out to his chop. So he went off; Debate interrupted for an hour; resumed at One, and continued, with brief intervals for refreshment, up till close upon midnight. Proceedings conducted with closed doors, but along the corridor, from time to time, rolled echoes which seemed to indicate that the first meeting of the Home-Rule Parliament was not lacking inanimation.

"I think they _are_ a little 'eated, Sir," said the policeman on duty outside. "Man and boy I've been in charge of this beat for twenty years; usually a quiet spot; this sudden row rather trying for one getting up in years. Do you think, Sir, that, seeing it's an eviction, the Police can under the Act claim Compensation for Disturbance?"

Promised to put question on subject to JOKIM.

Long dispute on point of order raised by NOLAN. TIM HEALY referring to difficulty of dislodging PARNELL, alluded to him as "Sitting Bull." Clamour from Parnellite section anxious for preservation of decency of debate. Speaker said, question most important. Irish Parliament in its infancy; above all things essential they should well consider precedents. Must reserve decision as to whether the phrase was Parliamentary; would suggest, therefore, that House should adjourn five weeks. On this point Debate proceeded up to midnight.

_Business done_.--In British Parliament Tithes Bill read a Second Time; in Irish (which sat four hours longer), None.

_Tuesday_.--Cork Parliament still sitting upstairs in Committee Room No. 15, debating question of adjournment. We hear them occasionally through open doors and down long corridor. Once a tremendous yell shook building.

"What's that?" I asked DICK POWER, who happened to be taking glass of sherry-wine at Bar in Lobby.

"That," said RICHARD, "is the Irish wolves crying for the blood of PARNELL," and DICK, tossing down his sherry-wine, as if he had a personal quarrel with it, hurried back to the shambles.

Quite a changed man! No longer the _débonnaire_ DICK, whose light heart and high spirits made him a favourite everywhere. Politics have suddenly become a serious thing, and DICK POWER is saddened with them.

"I take bitters with my sherry-wine now," DICK mentioned just now in sort of apologetic way at having been discovered, as it were, feasting in the house of mourning. "At the present sad juncture, to drink sherry-wine with all its untamed richness might, I feel, smack of callousness. Therefore I tell the man to dash it with bitters, which, whilst it has a penitential sound, adds a not untoothsome flavour in anticipation of dinner."

Even with this small comfort ten years added to his age; grey hairs gleam among his hyacinthine locks; his back is bent; his shoes are clogged with lead. A sad sight; makes one wish the pitiful business was over, and RICHARD himself again.

All the best of the Irish Members, whether Cavaliers or Cromwellians, are depressed in same way. Came upon SWIFT MacNEILL in retired recess in Library this afternoon; standing up with right hand in trouser-pocket, and left hand extended (his favourite oratorical attitude in happier times) smiling in really violent fashion.

"What are you playing at?" I asked him, noticing with curiosity that whilst his mouth was, so to speak, wreathed in smiles, a tear dewed the fringe of his closed eyelids.

"Ah, TOBY, is that you?" he said, "I didn't see you coming. The fact is I came over here by myself to have me last smile."

"Well, you're making the most of it," I said, wishing to encourage him.

"I generally do, and as this is me last, I'm not stinting measurement. They're sad times we've fallen on. Just when it seemed victory was within our grasp it is snatched away, and we are, as one may say, flung on the dunghill amid the wreck of our country's hopes and aspirations. This is not a time to make merry. Me country's ruined, and SWIFT MacNEILL smiles no more."

With that he shut up his jaws with a snap, and strode off. I'm sorry he should take the matter to heart so seriously. We shall miss that smile.

_Business done_.--Irish Land Bill in British Parliament. Cork Parliament still sitting.

_Thursday_.--Cork Parliament still sitting; PARNELL predominant; issues getting a little mixed; understood that Session summoned to decide whether, in view of certain proceedings before Mr. Justice BUTT, PARNELL should be permitted to retain Leadership. Everything been discussed but that. Things got so muddled up, that O'KEEFE, walking about, bowed with anxious thought, not quite certain whether it is TIM HEALY, SEXTON, or JUSTIN McCARTHY, who was involved in recent Divorce suit. Certainly, it couldn't have been PARNELL, who to-day suggests that the opportunity is fitting for putting Mr. G. in a tight place.

"You go to him," says PARNELL, "and demand certain pledges on Home Rule scheme. If he does not consent, he will be in a hole; threatened with loss of Irish Vote. You will be in a dilemma, as you cannot then side with him against me, the real friend of Ireland; whilst I shall be confirmed in my position as the only possible Leader of the Party. If, on the contrary, this unrivalled sophist is drawn into anything like a declaration that will satisfy you in the face of the Irish People, he will be hopelessly embarrassed with his English friends; I shall have paid off an old score, and can afford to retire from the Leadership, certain that in a few months the Irish People will clamour for the return of the man who showed that, if only he could serve them, he was ready to sacrifice his personal position and advantages. Don't, Gentlemen, let us, at a crisis like this, descend to topics of mere personality. In spite of what has passed at this table, I should like to shield my honourable friends, Mr. TIMOTHY HEALY, Mr. SEXTON, and that _beau idéal_ of an Irish Member, Mr. JUSTIN McCARTHY, from references, of a kind peculiarly painful to them, to certain proceedings in a court of law with respect to which I will, before I sit down, say this, that, if all the facts were known, they would be held absolutely free from imputation of irregularity."

General cheering greeted this speech. Members shook hands all round, and nominated Committee to go off and make things hot for Mr. G. _Business done_.--In British House Prince ARTHUR expounded Scheme for Relief of Irish Distress.

_Friday_.--A dark shadow falls on House to-day. Mrs. PEEL died this morning, and our SPEAKER sits by a lonely hearth, OLD MORALITY, in his very best style, speaking with the simple language of a kind heart, voices the prevalent feeling. Mr. G., always at his best on these occasions, adds some words, though, as he finely says, any expression of sympathy is but inadequate medicine for so severe a hurt. Members reverently uncover whilst these brief speeches are made. That is a movement shown only when a Royal Message is read; and here is mention of a Message from the greatest and final King. Mrs. PEEL, though the wife of the First Commoner in the land, was not _une grande dame_. She was a kindly, homely lady, of unaffected manner, with keen sympathies for all that was bright and good. Every Member feels that something is lost to the House of Commons now that she lies still in her chamber at Speaker's Court.

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THE DRAMA ON CRUTCHES.--A Mr. GREIN has suggested, according to some Friday notes in the _D.T._, a scheme for subsidising a theatre and founding a Dramatic School. The latter, apparently, is not to aid the healthy but the decrepit drama, as it is intended "to afford succour to old or disabled actors and actresses." Why then call it a "Dramatic School?" Better style it, a "Dramatic-Second-Infancy-School."

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DEATH IN THE FIELD.--If things go on as they have been going lately, the statisticians who compile the "Public Health" averages will have to include, as one important item in their "Death Rates," the ravages of that annual epidemic popularly known as--Football!

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"JUSTICE FOR IRELAND!"--The contest on the Chairmanship of the Irish Parliamentary Party may be summed up:--PARNELL--Just out, McCARTHY Just in.

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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.