Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, March 18, 1893 online

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VOL 104.

March 18, 1893.

[Illustration: "WELL MATCHED."

_Medico_ (_pathetically, with a view to touching the
Dealer's heart_). "NOW, MR. BOBBS, WHAT _DO_ YOU THINK I


* * * * *



(_Scene and Persons as usual._)

_Inquirer_ (_to First Well-Informed Man_). I say, have you ever been in
the House of Commons?

_First W. I. M._ (_shortly_). No, you know I haven't.

_Inquirer._ Oh, I don't mean as a Member. Of course I know you wouldn't
stand the rot of all these Constituents, or whatever they call
themselves. But have you ever been there as a visitor while a debate's
going on?

_First W. I. M._ Yes, once - some years ago. But why do you ask?

_Inquirer_ (_producing an order of admission_). Well, you see, I got old
JENKINS to give me a ticket for to-night, and I'm hanged if I know how
I'm to get there, or when I'm to go, or anything about it. I thought you
might be able to tell me how it's done.

_First W. I. M._ Let's have a look at your ticket.

[_Both the_ Well-Informed Men _inspect it with an air of
critical sagacity._

_First W. I. M._ (_after a prolonged pause_). I don't see where your
difficulty is. You just present this! at the door.

_Inquirer._ Ah, I daresay! - but what door? That's what I want to know.
The place looks as if it had about fifty thousand doors, you know. And
then I believe, if you make any mistakes, they march you off, in
two-twos, as a dynamiter, or a Socialist, or an agitator, or something.
You know old BONKER. Well, he went there once with a black bag, in which
he'd got some sandwiches and cake, and, just because he wouldn't open
it, they made no end of a row, and shoved him in the Clock-tower, or
something, until he apologised. I don't want any of those games, you

_Average Man._ Don't take a black bag then. They won't want to search
your pockets.

_Inquirer_ (_relieved_). Won't they? That's one comfort, at any rate. Do
you think I ought to go in at the big entrance?

_First W. I. M._ Of course you ought. The others are only for Members.

_Inquirer._ Ah! And I suppose I ought to get there pretty early now that
they've changed their hours. (_With determination._) I'll go about
half-past eleven.

[_A pause. They read papers._

_Inquirer_ (_suddenly, with intense alarm_). Oh, I say, look here, you
chaps. Here's old GLADSTONE gone and suspended the Twelve o'Clock Rule.
What does that mean?

_Second W. I. M._ It means that they start everything at twelve o'clock
in the day.

_First W. I. M._ No, it doesn't. It means that they don't start anything
till twelve o'clock at night.

_Second W. I. M._ (_pityingly_). My dear fellow, where have you been all
these years? They _always_ go home on the stroke of midnight now.

_First W. I. M._ That's just where you're wrong. Midnight to two in the
morning is just jolly well their best time now.

_Second W. I. M._ I'll bet you half a thick 'un you're wrong!

_First W. I. M._ And I'll bet you half a thick 'un I'm right!

[_The argument continues for some minutes in this

_Inquirer._ I wonder if they'll have any obstruction. I should like to
see some of that. I believe it's no end amusing.

_Second W. I. M._ Oh, you may trust this Opposition for that. Their only
notion for employing time is to obstruct everything and everybody.

_First W. I. M._ (_with a deadly calmness_). Ah! you call it
obstruction, of course, because you want to rush your iniquitous Bills
through the House. But you don't think we're going to stand that, do
you? - because we're not, and the Country's with us. Just look at

_Second W. I. M._ All right! Suppose you look at Cirencester.

_First W. I. M._ What do you say to Stockport then?

_Second W. I. M._ And what do _you_ say to Walsham and Hexall, and all
the rest of them? (_At the suggestion of the_ Average Man, _they abandon
this fiery debate. A pause._)

_Inquirer._ Who's Speaker now?

_First W. I. M._ Sir ROBERT PEEL.

_Inquirer._ Will he be there to-night?

_First W. I. M._ Of course he will. He's got to be there.

_Inquirer._ But then what does the Chairman of Committee do?

_First W. I. M._ Oh, ah, - um, let me see; the Chairman of Committee
does - - (_Brightly._) He's only appointed, you know, when they want a
Committee about something.

_Second W. I. M._ I fancy he has to read the Bills.

_First W. I. M._ (_gathering assurance as he proceeds_). Not when
they're read a first time. Somebody else does that - I forget what they
call him. The Chairman reads 'em a second time, and takes 'em up to the
House of Lords.

_Inquirer._ So he does, of course. I ought to have remembered that. But
I'd got a sort of notion they didn't really read the Bills at all - just
chucked 'em into a bag, and called it a Second Reading.

_First W. I. M._ (_condescendingly_). That's how they used to do it
about ten years ago; but they had to alter the whole thing after they
got BRADLAUGH into the House.

_Inquirer._ Why was that?

_First W. I. M._ Well, he wouldn't take an oath, you know; so, after
that, they altered everything.

_Inquirer_ (_with admiration_). By Jove, what a chap you are for
recollecting things!


* * * * *


A NEW POLL-TAX. - Would somebody inform me of the easiest way of getting
into Parliament? I see that Members are soon going to be paid, and that
would be very useful to me, as my present yearly expenses are £1,500,
and my income barely £150. Had I better try as a "Labour Candidate"? I
feel that I may claim the title, on account of the labour - twelve hours
at least _per diem_ - which I have to expend on getting out of the way of
my creditors. I presume that, before long, there will be Parliaments all
over the place, for England, Wales, and Scotland, as well as for
Ireland, and I want to get into _all_! At least, I want to get into all
where the excellent system of payment of Members is adopted, with
salaries "On the higher scale," as they say in the Courts. It is curious
that, when I explain to my creditors this most promising source of
prospective income, they don't seem to see it! But creditors always were
a purblind race. - WOULD-BE LEGISLATOR.

* * * * *


_A Ballad of Bungdom._ (_After Hans Breitmann's Ballad of the Mermaid._)


Der noble Witler[A] BUNGO
Von Schvillenschviggenop,
Rode out mit shpeer und helmet,
Und he coom to de panks of de Schlopp,

[A] Licensed Victualler.

Und oop dere rose a Meer-maid
Vot hadn't got nodings on.
Und she say, "Oh, Witler BUNGO,
Vhere you goes mit yourself alone?"

Und he says, "I rides mine high-horse,
Mit helmet und mit shpeer,
Till I gooms unto mine Gasthaus,[B]
Vhere I sells goot wine und peer."

[B] Tavern, or Wine Shop.

Und den outspoke de Maiden
Vot hadn't got nodings on:
"I ton't dink mooch of beoplesh
Dat cares for demselfs alone.

You'd petter coom down to de Wasser, -
'Tis de pest trink ash you'll see, -
Und haf a wholesome tinner
Mit Schlopp-Vash, along mit me."

"Dere you sees de fisch a-schwimmin!
Und dere healthy efery one."
So sang dis Wasser-Maiden,
Vot hadn't got nodings on.

"Your shtrong tipplesh cost mooch money,
Dere ish death in de trinks you've sold;
Und you helps yourself, by doonder,
To de Vorkmansh hard-earned gold.

"Shoost look at doze sodden wretches,
Vhite schlafes of de Witler Rings!
From dere 'trunks' you vill your pockets,
Und you rob dem like efery dings.

"Vot _dey_ vantsh mit your schnaps[C] und lager,
Vitrioled gin and doctored wine?
Smash your pottles, and preak your parrels,
Und try dese Schlopps of mine!"

[C] Drams, drinks.

* * *

Vill _dat_ fetch him! He standsh as shpellbound!
She vould pool his coat-tails down.
She von't draw _him_ oonder der Wasser -
Dat Maiden mit nodings on!

* * * * *


Thank you, Mrs. HUNGERFORD (says the Baron, bowing his very best to the
talented authoress), for one of the cheeriest, freshest, and
sweetest - if I may be allowed to use the epithet - of one-volume'd
stories I've read for many a day. The three daughters are delightful. I
question whether you couldn't have done better with "two only, as are
generally necessary;" but perhaps this is ungrateful on my part. Anyway,
two out of the three lovers are scarcely worth mentioning, so I don't
think I am far wrong, for the team was a bit unmanageable, well as you
had them in hand. Excellent, too, is the sketch of _Dad_, though that of
_Aunt Jane_ is a trifle too grotesque, and will, perforce, remind those
of your readers, who are theatre-goers, of Mr. PENLEY in petticoats, now
actually playing "_Charley's_" irresistibly comic _Aunt_ at the Globe
Theatre. But it is all good, and not too good to be true. Likewise, my
dear Madame, you have given us two life-like sketches, one of a
car-driver with his vicious mare, and the other of _Molly's_ little dog.
In conclusion, I congratulate you, Mrs. HUNGERFORD, as also the
publisher, Mr. HEINEMANN, on having secured so good a specimen of the
material for sale in this Hungerford market, says


* * * * *


"Thine be a cot beside a hill,"
Hums Mrs. HAWEIS in our ear;
"Such cots are in the market still,
At only thirty pounds a year.

"Then, as for furnishing the fold,
Another fifty pounds will do it;
But mind you stick to what is old,
Nor carry modern rubbish to it!

"Your chairs must all be Chippendale,
Your tables of the native oak,
Your sofas" - but of what avail!
To further urge this little joke?

For in this cot the chairs may be
Much chipped, but hardly Chippendale,
Unless the lady will agree
To costs "upon the _hire_ scale."

* * * * *

Said a prim Bachelor, in a nasty temper, after a
struggle with an ultra-stiffened clean shirt, "I should
like to indict my laundress at the Old Bailey, charge
her with murdering my linen, and, as evidence, I'd
produce the mangled remains in Court."

* * * * *

MRS. R. has been studying architecture, She says that
"all Schoolmasters' Houses ought to be built in the
Early Perpendicular Tutor style."

* * * * *

[Illustration: "WHERE A FOOTMAN IS KEPT."



* * * * *


A learned Professor, the other day,
At the Royal Institution,
Explained, in a quite scientific way,
How, helped by a contribution
From the Goldsmiths' Company, he'd prepare
Some liquid oxygen - you're aware
This is what plain English folks call "air"
Unspoilt by smoky pollution.

No doubt he meant well, and the Goldsmiths too,
In their noble work together;
But was it the very best thing to do,
In that showery, soaking weather;
When drizzle, or downpour, of dogs and cats,
From the "liquid air" made us all drowned rats,
And ruined our clothes and our best top-hats,
And spoilt boots of the stoutest leather?

Professors and Companies, if you would
Invent some sort of appliance
To dry "liquid air," on which we could
Repose implicit reliance,
Arranged to diminish this H_{2}O,
Which, as every schoolboy ought to know,
The Germans call _wasser_, the French call _eau_,
We should bless your chemical science.

* * * * *


_Q._ Why is it clear the Sparrow is an advocate of Free

_A._ Because his everlasting cry is, "Cheep-Cheep!"

* * * * *

"THE GOTHENBURG SYSTEM." - Mrs. R. warmly espouses the
cause of Temperance. She is very strong on what she has
heard is called "The Gotobed System," in Sweden.

* * * * *


(_Translated from the Original Norwegian by Mr. Punch._)


DR. HERDAL'S _Drawing-room and Dispensary, as before. It is early in the
day._ Dr. HERDAL _sits by the little table, taking his own temperature
with a clinical thermometer. By the door stands the_ New Book-keeper;
_he wears blue spectacles and a discoloured white tie, and seems
slightly nervous._

_Dr. Herd._ Well, now you understand what is necessary. My late
book-keeper, Miss BLAKDRAF, used to keep my accounts very cleverly - she
charged every visit twice over.

_The New B._ I am familiar with book-keeping by double entry. I was once
employed at a Bank.

_Dr. Herd._ I am discharging my assistant, too; he was always trying to
push me out with his pills. Perhaps you will be able to dispense?

_The New B._ (_modestly_). With an additional salary, I should be able
to do that too.

_Dr. Herd._ Capital! You _shall_ dispense with an additional salary. Go
into the Dispensary, and see what you can make of it. You may mistake a
few drugs at first - but everything must have a beginning.

[_As the_ New B. _retires,_ Mrs. HERDAL _enters in a hat
and cloak with a watering-pot, noiselessly._

_Mrs. Herd._ Miss WANGEL got up early, before breakfast, and went for a
walk. She is so wonderfully vivacious!

_Dr. Herd._ So I should say. But tell me, ALINE, is she _really_ going
to stay with us here? [_Nervously._

_Mrs. Herd._ (_looks at him_). So she tells me. And, as she has brought
nothing with her except a tooth-brush and a powder-puff, I am going into
the town to get her a few articles. We _must_ make her feel at home.

_Dr. Herd._ (_breaking out_). I _will_ make her not only _feel_, but
_be_ at home, wherever that is, this very day! I will _not_ have a
perambulating Allegory without a portmanteau here on an indefinite
visit. I say, she shall go - do you hear, ALINE? Miss WANGEL will go!

[_Raps with his fist on table._

_Mrs. Herd._ (_quietly_). If you say so, HAUSTUS, no doubt she will
_have_ to go. But you must tell her so yourself.

[_Puts the watering-pot on the console table, and goes
out, as_ HILDA _enters, sparkling with pleasure._

_Hilda_ (_goes up straight to him_). Good morning, Dr. HERDAL. I have
just seen a pig killed. It was _ripping_ - I mean, gloriously thrilling!
And your wife has taken a tremendous fancy to me. Fancy _that_!

_Dr. Herd._ (_gloomily_). It _is_ eccentric certainly. But my poor dear
wife was always a little - -

_Hilda_ (_nods her head slowly several times_). So _you_ have noticed
that too? I have had a long talk with her. She can't get over your
discharging Mr. KALOMEL - he is the only man who ever _really_ understood

_Dr. Herd._ If I could only pay her off a little bit of the huge,
immeasurable debt I owe her - but I can't!

_Hilda_ (_looks hard at him_). Can't _I_ help you? I helped RAGNAR
BROVIK. Didn't you know I stayed with him and poor little KAIA - after
that accident to my Master Builder? I did. I made RAGNAR build me the
loveliest castle in the air - lovelier, even, than poor Mr. SOLNESS'S
would have been - and we stood together on the very top. The steps were
rather too much for KAIA. Besides, there was no room for her on top. And
he put towering spires on all his semi-detached villas. Only, somehow,
they didn't let. Then the castle in the air tumbled down, and RAGNAR
went into liquidation, and I continued my walking-tour.

[Illustration: "Beautiful rainbow-coloured powders that
will give one a real grip on the world!"]

_Dr. Herd._ (_interested against his will_). And where did you go after
_that_, may I ask, Miss WANGEL?

_Hilda._ Oh, ever so far North. There I met Mr. and Mrs. TESMAN - the
second Mrs. TESMAN - she who was Mrs. ELVSTED, with the irritating hair,
you know. They were on their honeymoon, and had just decided that it was
impossible to reconstruct poor Mr. LÖVBORG'S great book out of Mrs.
ELVSTED'S rough notes. But I insisted on GEORGE'S attempting the
impossible - with Me. And what _do_ you think Mrs. TESMAN wears in her
hair _now_?

_Dr. Herd._ Why, really I could not say. Vine-leaves, perhaps.

_Hilda._ Wrong - _straws!_ Poor TESMAN _didn't_ fancy that - so he shot
himself, _un_-beautifully, through his ticket-pocket. And I went on and
took Rosmersholm for the Summer. There had been misfortune in the house,
so it was to let. Dear good old Rector KROLL acted as my reference; his
wife and children had no sympathy with his views, so I used to see him
every day. And I persuaded him, too, to attempt the impossible - he had
never ridden anything but a rocking-horse in his life, but I made him
promise to mount the White Horse of the Rosmersholms. He didn't get over
_that_. They found his body, a fortnight afterwards, in the mill-dam.

_Dr. Herd._ (_shakes his finger at her_). What a girl you are, Miss
WANGEL! But you mustn't play these games _here_, you know.

_Hilda_ (_laughs to herself_). Of course not. But I suppose I _am_ a
strange sort of bird.

_Dr. Herd._ You are like a strong tonic. When I look at you I seem to be
regarding an effervescing saline draught. Still, I really must decline
to take you.

_Hilda_ (_a little sulky_). That is not how you spoke ten years ago, up
at the mountain station, when you were such a flirt!

_Dr. Herd._ _Was_ I a flirt? Deuce take me if I remember. But I am not
like that _now_.

_Hilda._ Then you have really forgotten how you sat next to me at the
_table d'hôte_, and made pills and swallowed them, and were so splendid
and buoyant and free that all the old women who knitted left next day?

_Dr. Herd._ What a memory you have for trifles, Miss WANGEL, it's quite

_Hilda._ Trifles! There was no trifling on _your_ part. When you
promised to come back in ten years, like a troll, and fetch me!

_Dr. Herd._ Did I say all that? It _must_ have been _after table

_Hilda._ It was. I was a mere chit then - only twenty-three; but I
remember. And now _I_ have come for _you_.

_Dr. Herd._ Dear, dear! But there is nothing of the troll about me now I
have married Mrs. SOLNESS.

_Hilda_ (_looking sharply at him_). Yes, I remember you were always
dropping in to tea in those days.

_Dr. Herd._ (_seems hurt_). Every visit was duly put down in the ledger
and charged for - as poor little SENNA will tell you.

_Hilda._ Little SENNA? Oh, Dr. HERDAL, I believe there is a bit of the
troll left in you still!

_Dr. Herd._ (_laughs a little_). No, no; my conscience is perfectly
robust - always was.

_Hilda._ Are you quite _quite_ sure that, when you went indoors with
dear Mrs. SOLNESS that afternoon, and left me alone with my Master
Builder, you did not foresee - perhaps wish - intend, even a little,
that - - H'm?

_Dr. Herd._ That you would talk the poor man into clambering up that
tower? You want to drag _Me_ into that business now!

_Hilda_ (_teasingly_). Yes, I certainly think that then you went on
exactly like a troll.

_Dr. Herd._ (_with uncontrollable emotion_). HILDA, there is not a
corner of me safe from you! Yes, I see now that _must_ have been the way
of it. Then I _was_ a troll in that, too! But isn't it terrible the
price I have had to pay for it? To have a wife who - - . No, I shall
never roll a pill again - never, never!

_Hilda_ (_lays her head on the stove, and answers as if half asleep_).
No more pills? Poor Doctor HERDAL!

_Dr. Herd._ (_bitterly_). No - nothing but cosy commonplace grey powders
for a whole troop of children.

_Hilda_ (_lively again_). Not _grey_ powders! (_Quite seriously._) I will
tell you what you shall make next. Beautiful rainbow-coloured powders
that will give one a real grip on the world. Powders to make everyone
free and buoyant, and ready to grasp at one's own happiness, to _dare_
what one _would_. I will have you make them. I will - I _will!_

_Dr. Herd._ H'm! I am not quite sure that I clearly understand. And then
the ingredients - ?

_Hilda._ What stupid people all of you pill-doctors are, to be sure!
Why, they will be _poisons_, of course!

_Dr. Herd._ Poisons? Why in the world should they be _that_?

_Hilda_ (_without answering him_). All the thrillingest, deadliest
poisons - it is only such things that are wholesome, nowadays.

_Dr. Herd._ (_as if caught by her enthusiasm_). And I could colour them,
too, by exposing them to rays cast through a prism. Oh, HILDA, how I
have needed you all these years! For, you see, with _her_ it was
impossible to discuss such things. [_Embraces her._

_Mrs. Herd._ (_enters noiselessly through hall-door_). I suppose,
HAUSTUS, you are persuading Miss WANGEL to start by the afternoon
steamer? I have bought her a pair of curling-tongs, and a packet of
hair-pins. The larger parcels are coming on presently.

_Dr. Herd._ (_uneasily_). H'm! HILDA - Miss WANGEL I _should_ say - is
kindly going to stay on a little longer, to assist me in some scientific
experiments. You wouldn't understand them if I told you.

_Mrs. Herd._ Shouldn't I, HAUSTUS? I daresay not.

[_The_ New Book-keeper _looks through the glass-door of

_Hilda_ (_starts violently and points - then in a whisper_). Who is

_Dr. Herd._ Only the New Book-keeper and Assistant - a very intelligent

_Hilda_ (_looks straight in front of her with a far-away expression, and
whispers to herself_). I thought at first it was.... But no - _that_
would be _too_ frightfully thrilling!

_Dr. Herd._ (_to himself_). I'm turning into a regular old troll
now - but I can't help myself. After all, I am only an elderly Norwegian.
We are _made_ like that.... Rainbow powders - _real_ rainbow powders!
With HILDA.... Oh, to have the joy of life once more!

[_Takes his temperature again as Curtain falls._

* * * * *


_Question._ Who was WILLIAM the Conqueror? _Answer._ The Managing
Director of an Exploration Company composed of the most respectable


_A._ RUFUS, a worthy son of a worthy father; HENRY, a scholar, who
strongly objected to over-cramming; and RICHARD, a mild-mannered man,
who modestly shrank from canonisation.

_Q._ And what do you know about King JOHN?

_A._ That he gave to a grateful country the Magna Charta.

_Q._ And all the intermediate monarchs' being equally good, what have
you to say about King HENRY THE EIGHTH?

_A._ He was a model monarch, and worthy to be the father of MARY and

_Q._ How about the Royal ladies you have last mentioned?

_A._ The first had as large a mind as the other a heart.

_Q._ What do you think of the STUART Family?

_A._ It was famed for its fidelity, trustfulness, and gratitude.

_Q._ Were WILLIAM and MARY, and ANNE, pleasant Monarchs?

_A._ Most pleasant. As witty as they were beautiful.

_Q._ And how about the GEORGES?

_A._ All that could be desired - and more. Indeed, all our monarchs have
been of the most exemplary character, against whom the most
scandal-loving would utter no word of complaint.

[Illustration: The Professor.]

* * * * *



WELL, we've bin a going on much as usual at our grand old Manshun House
under our trewly liberal LORD MARE, but I ain't had nothink werry new to
tell about, till a few nites ago, when we had what I can truthfully call
a reel staggerer, and no mistake. It seems as it's allers the custon,
when a Embassadore, who has made hisself werry poplar, is gitting jest a
leetle tired of us, and begins to si for Ome sweet Ome, for the
principalest Gent in London to give him sitch a grand Bankwet as he

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Online LibraryVariousPunch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 104, March 18, 1893 → online text (page 1 of 3)