Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 93, October 29, 1887 online

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VOL. 93.

October 29th, 1887.



Self, wife, and HERBERT started early to escape our kind-hearted,
clear-headed admirers; so early, that I scarcely had time before
leaving to write thirty post-cards, seventy-six pages of notes for
my next magazine article, and to cut down half-a-dozen trees. Train
announced to leave Chester at 10:30, but got off at the hour.
This little joke (WATKIN'S notion) caused much amusement. Through
opera-glasses we could see bands of music, deputations, &c.,
constantly coming to the railway-stations to meet our train after
it had passed. Too bad! However, to prevent disappointment, and as
CHAMBERLAIN has been imitating me and vulgarised my original idea, I
knocked off some speeches, in pencil, and HERBERT threw them out of
the window as fast as I could write them. So far as we could make out
with a telescope, some of them reached their destination, and seemed
to be well received.

[Illustration: Master Willie Gladstone "really enjoying, and in some
measure appreciating and understanding," our Mr. Agnew's lectures on

_Vide Times Report, Oct. 18._]

Awfully pleased to meet Mr. WILLIAM AGNEW at Manchester. Odd
coincidence of Christian names. I shall speak of him and allude to him
as "The Other WILLIAM." He promised to keep by me, and show me all the
pictures worth seeing.

"T'Other WILLIAM," said I, "you are very good. As you know, I take a
great and sincere interest in pictures and works of Art, although I
know very little about them." T'Other WILLIAM protested. "No, T'Other
WILLIAM, I am right. You have been the means of providing me with
a commodity most difficult of all others to procure if you do not
possess it yourself - that is to say, you have provided me with
brains." Further protests from T'Other One. "No, T'Other WILLIAM,
hear me out; for you know in all cases where a judgment has had to be
passed upon works of Art, I have been accustomed to refer a great deal
to you, and lean upon you, because you have been constantly the means
of enabling me really to see, and really to enjoy, and in some measure
to appreciate and understand, all that you have shown to me."

I was so pleased with this little speech that I made HERBERT take it
down as I repeated it to him privately when T'Other was looking in
another direction. When I brought it out afterwards, at luncheon in
the Palm-house, it went wonderfully. So it should, because I felt
every word of it. T'Other WILLIAM is one of the kindest and most
courteous of my friends.

I was very pleased with the Exhibition, although perhaps (I am not
certain of this) I might have seen it better had not about four
thousand visitors followed our little party everywhere, cheering
vociferously. I was consequently obliged to keep my attention most
carefully fixed upon the exhibits, as when I caught any stranger's
eye, the stranger immediately (but with an eagerness that did not
exceed the limits of good behaviour) called upon me to make a speech
then and there upon the subject of "Home Rule." I am sure I should
on each and every occasion have only been too delighted, had not Sir
ANDREW warned me not to indulge too much in that sort of thing. The
crowd, however, had its decided advantage, inasmuch as we were carried
off our feet everywhere. In this luxurious fashion we were wafted to
Messrs. DOULTON'S Pottery Manufactory, to Mr. JESSE HAWORTH'S loan
exhibition of Egyptian antiquities, the name "JESSE" recalled to me
the poor misguided JOE'S "JESSE," the second fiddle, but _toujours
fidèle_, and to a great many other shows of almost equal interest.

But of course _the_ feature of the Exhibition was the collection
of pictures. I was absolutely delighted. T'Other WILLIAM explained
everything, and amongst other portraits showed me one of myself by
MILLAIS. I imagine that everybody must have thought it very like,
because when they observed me inspecting it, they cheered more
vigorously than ever. For my part I can't help feeling that Sir JOHN
might have done more with the collars. He has not (to my thinking,
although I confess I may be wrong) put quite enough starch in them.
This is my own idea, as I did not consult T'Other One upon the
subject. Great as my reliance is upon him concerning works of Art, I
reserve the right of using my own judgment in the matter of collars.
Passing through the galleries I was delighted with everything I saw.
The only drawback to my pleasure was the fact that I was followed (as
I have already hinted) by a cheering crowd, who occasionally, and, no
doubt, accidentally, drowned the voice of my kind Mentor. Under other
circumstances I should have drawn the distinction between the Mentor
and the Tor-mentors. Think this, but don't say it. For instance, when
we were standing in front of "_Ramsgate Sands_," this is what reached
my ears eager for instruction: -

"'_Ramsgate Sands_,' by FRITH - (_'Hooray!'_) - who, as you know, has
just written - (_'Speech! Speech!' 'Home Rule!' 'Three cheers for
MORLEY!'_) - full of anecdotes of all sorts of interesting people. If
you went to Ramsgate now, you would find - - (_'We are going to give
you another carpet, old man!' 'Hooray, hooray, hooray!' 'Three
Cheers for Home Rule! - An extra one for Manchester!'_) - and
practically the sand-frequenters we are carefully examining in this
picture are of thirty years ago. (_'Speech! Speech!'_) You must
know - - (_'Hooray, hooray, hooray!'_)"

And at this period my dear friend was silenced by our being carried
away in an irresistible stream to the Palm-house, where we took part
in an excellent luncheon. Here I delivered my speech, which I
pride myself was first-rate. I called Manchester the Modern Athens,
explaining, however, that no offence was intended to the capital
of Midlothian. Take it all round, then, in spite of the "exuberant
interest" shown in me by my fellow-citizens, I have had a very
pleasant day, thanks chiefly to T'Other WILLIAM.

* * * * *


_October 25._ - Lecture by amiable Police Magistrate to six hulking
rowdies, who have been assaulting the Police, on the duty of "bearing
distress patiently." Tells them "not to do it again," and dismisses
them with aid from the Poor Box and his blessing. Surprise of rowdies.

_October 26._ - Unemployed employ themselves in sacking portion of Bond
Street, during temporary withdrawal of Police for a little rest.

_October 27._ - Sitting Alderman at Mansion House gives a Socialist
Deputation some sympathetic and fatherly advice, and recommends them
to "study laws of supply and demand." Invites them to Lord Mayor's
Banquet. Deputation accepts invitation readily, and, on emerging
into street, is chivied down Cheapside by infuriated mob of other
Socialists, who have not received invitations.

_October 28._ - New Leaders of Mob (_vice_ Deputation, resigned)
denounce sympathetic Alderman as a "bloated exploiter." Nelson
Monument pulled down. Ten leading tradesmen, in neighbourhood of
Trafalgar Square, unable to do any business, owing to streets being
blocked with rioters, go into bankruptcy.

_October 29._ - Gathering of "Unemployed" in Westminster Abbey.
Unemployed complain bitterly because chairs have no cushions. The
Dean, conducted to pulpit under strong police escort, preaches very
conciliatory sermon on duty of Upper Classes, all, except Deans, to
give most of what they possess to poor; advises poor to wait patiently
till they get it. Retires under heavy shower of hymn-books. Unemployed
"remain to prey."

_October 30._ - Westminster Abbey sacked, in consequence of Dean's
conciliatory sermon. The Canons go off.

_November 1._ - Mansion House Relief Fund started. Fifty thousand
pounds subscribed the first day by leading philanthropists who
have had all their windows broken. Trade paralysed, and numbers of
Unemployed consequently increasing. Speech by celebrated Statesman,
contrasting disorder and lawlessness in Ireland with universal
contentment and order existing in England.

_November 2._ - Mob helps itself to chief pictures in National Gallery,
on ground that they "belong to the people." Raffle organised for the
Raffaelles. Fifteen policemen have their ribs broken.

_November 3._ - Whole Police Force disabled by angry mob armed with
bludgeons and revolvers. Sympathetic Alderman at Mansion House
ventures to ask Government if "matters are not really going a little
too far," and is ducked in Thames. All the West-End shops in-wested by

_November 4._ - Prime Minister declares that "much as he regrets the
depression of trade and want of employment, yet he thinks that on the
whole, recent proceedings have not been quite creditable to Capital
City of Empire." Military called out, and streets cleared in no time.
Ringleaders of mob arrested, and given a year's imprisonment with hard
labour. Trafalgar Square railed round and planted with prickly cactus.
Business resumed and confidence restored. Government begins to think
of a Bill to deal with _real_ London grievances - such as rack-rents,
slum-dwellings, and foreign pauper labour. [_And high time too!_

* * * * *

A CLOUD OF YACHTS. - The account of the British owner published last
week, confirms the notion that the much-talked-of superiority of
the _Thistle_ over the _Volunteer_ was mere vapouring. This is not
surprising. All that could be appropriately expected from such a weed
was smoke!

* * * * *



_Sancho Panza (to himself)._ "I CANNOT HELP IT, - FOLLOW HIM I MUST:
Quixote_, Part ii., Book iii., Ch. xxxiii.]

* * * * *


_Fragments from a forthcoming Romance of (Political) Chivalry and
(Party) Knight-Errantry._


The age of our gentleman bordered upon fifty years. He was of a strong
constitution, spare-bodied, of a keen, not to say hatchet-like visage,
a very early (and rapid) riser, and a lover of the orchid.


His judgment being somewhat obscured, he was seized with one of the
strangest fancies that ever entered the head of any naturally astute
person. This was a belief that it behoved him, as well for the
advancement of his own glory as the service of his country, to become
a knight-errant (though, indeed, there was, perhaps, about him more
of the errant than the knightly), and traverse the northern parts of
Hibernia, armed and mounted, in quest of adventures, redressing every
species of grievance save such as were not found in his own list, or
"programme," which latter, indeed, he would by no means admit to be
"grievances" at all. The poor gentleman imagined himself to be at
least crowned Autocrat of Orangeia by the valour of his arm; and
thus wrapt in these agreeable illusions, and borne away by the
extraordinary pleasure he found in them, he hastened to put his design
into execution.

The first thing he did was to scour up some rusty armour which had
done service in the time of his great-grandfather, and had lain many
years neglected in a corner. This he cleaned and furbished up as well
as he could, but he found one great defect - it would not in any part
stand one stroke from modern steel, much less one shot from modern
gun. However, as he was rather fired with the yearning to attack than
impressed with the necessity for defence, this deficiency troubled him
but little.

In the next place he visited his steed, which though but a hobby of
wooden aspect and no paces, yet in his eyes it surpassed any charger
that the Achilles of Hawarden ever bestrode, or the Automedon of Derby
ever handled. Many days was he deliberating upon what name he should
give it; for, as he said to himself, it would be very improper that
a horse so excellent appertaining to a Knight so famous should be
without an appropriate name; he therefore endeavoured to find one that
should express what he had been before he belonged to a knight-errant,
and also what he now was; nothing could, indeed, be more reasonable
than that, when the master changed his state, the horse should
likewise change his name, and assume one pompous and high-sounding, as
became the new order he now professed. Failing in this endeavour, he
called his hobby, provisionally at least, _Ne Plus Ulster_, a name
which if it suggested a sorry joke, was so far fitting that it was
bestowed upon a sorry nag.


In the meantime our knight-errant had brought his persuasive powers to
bear upon a humble labourer in the fields which he himself had lately
left, a neighbour of his, some said of his own distant kin, and an
honest man, but somewhat shallow-brained and self-important. In short,
he said so much, used so many arguments, that the poor fellow resolved
to sally out with him, and serve him in the capacity of a Squire.
Among other things, DON QUIXOTE told him that he ought to be very glad
to accompany him, for such an adventure might some time or the other
occur, that, by one stroke, an Island might be won, where it was
within the bounds of possibility that he, the Squire, might one day
become Governor, or at least Viceroy. With this and other promises
SANCHO PANZA (for that was the rustic's name) left his well-beloved
three acres at home, not to name a favourite cow, for a time at least,
and engaged himself as Squire to his ambitious neighbour.


Engaged in friendly discourse, they came in sight of eighty-five or
eighty-six windmills; and as DON QUIXOTE espied them he said to
his Squire, "Fortune favours us. Look yonder, friend JESSE - I mean
SANCHO - where thou mayest discover some more than eighty disloyal
giants, and monsters of sedition, whom I intend to encounter and
slay." "What giants?" said SANCHO PANZA. "These thou seest yonder,"
answered his master, "with their long and far-reaching arms, for some
are wont to have them of the full length of a league. Fly not, ye
cowards, and vile caitiffs!" he cried, "for it is a single Knight
who assaults ye! Although ye should have more arms than the giant
Briareus, ye shall pay for it!"


And the story, so far as it has gone (it is "to be continued"),
leaves DON QUIXOTE making a prodigiously plucky assault upon the
League-limbed "giants," with what result the sequel will show.

* * * * *

[Illustration: TORSION.

_Irish Waiter (to Bow-legged Traveller in the Coffee-room)._ "BIG

_Traveller (fiercely)._ "EH? WHA' FOR? WHA' D'YE MEAN?!"


* * * * *


[It is announced that Ladies are to be enabled to take
diplomas in Dentistry.]

Lady Dentist, dear thou art,
Thou hast stolen all my heart;
Take too, I shall not repine,
Modest molars such as mine;
Draw them at thine own sweet will;
Pain can come not from thy skill.

Lady Dentist, fair to see,
Are the forceps held by thee;
Lest those pretty lips should pout,
You may pull my eye-teeth out;
I'm regardless of the pangs,
When thy hand extracts the fangs.

Lady Dentist, hear me pray
Thou wilt visit me each day;
Welcome is the hand that comes -
Lightly hovering o'er my gums.
Not a throne, love, could compare
With thine operating chair.

Lady Dentist, when in sooth
You've extracted every tooth,
Take me toothless to your arms,
For the future will have charms:
Artificial teeth shall be -
Work for you and joy for me!

* * * * *

ALL THE DIFFERENCE. - The Statesmen used to be called "Pillars of the
State." _Pillars!_ They now seem to contribute to its support little
but endless (newspaper) _columns_!

* * * * *



_H-tf-ld House, Friday._



After a too brief holiday I am back again to H-tf-ld and to L-nd-n,
and take an early opportunity of dropping you a line. I call the
interval since the House was up a holiday for convenience sake; but
what with the daily arrival of despatch boxes and the delivery of the
morning papers, the repose has been intermittent. I fancy that since
the days of Old PAM the recess has always been a mockery for the
Premier of the day. D-ZZY had some bad times from 1874 to 1880, and
GL-DST-NE'S subsequent Premiership was not a bed of roses, even in the
recess. But they at least had the satisfaction of feeling that they
were in power as well as in office. If they decided upon a particular
line of policy, they could initiate it without first inquiring how it
might suit half-a-dozen people. Moreover, each was in varying degree
supported by capable colleagues, able to hold their own on the
platform or in the House. For unhappy Me things are quite otherwise.
I may devise a policy for Ireland and elsewhere, but before I can
announce it, I must humbly learn how it suits my Lord H-RT-NGT-N and
my good friend CH-MB-RL-N. As for my colleagues and the help I receive
from them - - well, that is a matter of which of course I cannot write,
even in the confidence of correspondence with you. But I may tell you
that over at Châlet C-c-l I found some little time for reading other
literature than Blue Books. Looking through SHELLEY once again, I
came upon the line descriptive of COLERIDGE, "flagging wearily through
darkness and despair,"

"A hooded eagle among blinking owls."

I don't exactly know why, but when I think of some things that have
taken place lately, I have a strong feeling of personal sympathy with
the hooded eagle.

But this is a trifle melancholy, and will make you think I am in
low spirits, or even that there is truth in the newspaper rumours
of failing health. Nothing of the sort, dear boy; never better in my
life. Full of health and spirits, of hope for the coming time, and
eagerness for the fray of next Session. How I have envied GL-DST-NE
going about the country making speeches which would have been twice as
effective if they had been half as long, receiving the homage of the
masses, and driving in state through the streets of Derby, with his
led Captain, H-RC-RT, on the box-seat of his carriage! What a curious
man is GL-DST-NE, the Elephant of our political life, who can in the
morning crush a Ministry, and in the afternoon achieve a petty economy
by selling waste timber. There has been a good deal written about
NAPOLEON whilst involved in his fatal campaign in Russia occupying
spare moments in drawing up regulations for the Opera House at Paris.
But what is that compared with GL-DST-NE marching through the Midlands
to upset my Government, and, _en route_, drafting an announcement
that timber felled at Hawarden by his own hand would be on sale "at a
uniform charge, viz., 1s., 6d. for a small log, or 3s. per cubic foot,
exclusive of railway carriage." Of course I know that WILLIAM HENRY
has gallantly rushed into the breach, and avowed the authorship of
this remarkable proclamation. But if W. H. is allowed to do this kind
of thing without consultation or authority, all I can say is that
discipline at Hawarden is fatally faulty. Besides, amiable and
engaging as he is, I do not believe that W. H. is equal to the
unassisted concoction of this incomparable production. However it be,
no one but GL-DST-NE could stand the ridicule of the thing, and he
doubtless doesn't feel it.

How is GR-ND-LPH getting on? Not so well as he used, I fancy. His new
attitude of friendly neutrality does not suit him, and is, moreover,
not nearly so attractive with the people as what I may call his
Malayan manner, when he used to run amuck at everybody, including
myself. It was a very dull speech he made at Sunderland on Thursday.
He must certainly wake up, if he means to keep his old place. Perhaps
he is, like me, getting aweary of the whole thing, and wishes he were
well out of it. If I had my will, I would cut the whole business, and
spend my days and nights in the laboratory here. But that cannot be,
for the present at least. So you will hear from me soon in the midst
of the fray; and, in the meantime, mind you understand that I am in
the best of spirits, confident in the present, and hopeful for the

Yours, faithfully, S-L-SB-RY.

* * * * *



I've got such a hoddible cold id by head,
Upod by word, I wish I was dead;
I really thig I shall go to bed,
Ad tallow by doze, as the Doctor said;
He's cubig agaid this afterdood;
Why, it's half-past three, he'll be here sood,
Ad gib me sub bore of his beastly drugs,
Ad tell me to keep warb udder the rugs.
Achoo! Achoo!
Oh! what shall I do?
I've coughed ad sdeezed till I'be dearly blue,
Ad by doze is so sore,
I card blow it bore,
It feels as tedder as if it was raw;
Subbody told be he'd heard of sub stuff
Which you'd odely to sdiff, ad that was eduff;
What did he call it? Alkarab,
I'll sedd for sub - I suppose it's a shab -
They always are. Achoo! Achoo!
I thig I'be dyig! Oh! what shall I do?
Yes, this is the stuff that fellow said
Was sure to cure a cold id the head;
Two or three sdiffs the beggar swore
Would bake you as well as you were before.
(_He sniffs._) Upod my soul, I believe he's right,
I'be gettig better - it's wonderful quite,
I albost feel as if I bight
Go out and dide at the Club to-dight.

(_He continueth sniffing._)

I really will, I feel quite well,
As fresh as a rose, and as sound as a bell,
And I'll always swear that the only balm
For a cold in the head is Alkaram.
"Here, JOHN, put out my evening clothes."
I'll take my grub
To-night at the Club.
Soup, fish, and a bird, with a pint of Larose,
I think that ought to complete the cure,
And make assurance double sure.
Achoo! Hullo!
Why here's a go!
Achoo! Atishoo! Oh dear! Oh dear!
It's all begiddig agaid, I fear;
You card get rid of a cold like bide
By sbellig a bottle of bedicide!
Soup ad fish! it's absurd,
Or to thigk of a bird,
When you card prodoudce a siggle word,
Ad as for Larose, the tipple for be
Is a cup of boilig lidseed tea.
I'll go to bed,
Ad wrap a red
Welsh fladdel baddage roud by head,
Ad stay at hobe for a budth at least,
Till this beastly widd's do logger East.

_South Kedsigtod._

* * * * *



A Mob-Cap was once upon a time a picturesque finish to a pretty face,
and it was of home-manufacture. Now the Mob-Cap is a red abomination,
typical of bloodshed and crime, of foreign make, and is mis-called the
Cap of Liberty, which, properly translated, is the Cap of Licence. It
certainly is not "The Cap of Maintenance," as it is adopted by those
who would disdain work, even if it were offered them.

Not for the first time has _Mr. Punch_ raised his voice against Street
Processions, which have developed into one of the greatest nuisances
of the present time, destructive of trade, detrimental to every kind
of regular business, and a disgrace to our orderly and respectable
London. All processions in London ought to be prohibited, with the
exception of such State, Civic, or Ecclesiastical processions as may
be deemed essential to the dignity of authority, and which have been,
and still are, a source of real pleasure to the Londoners, who dearly
love a show, when there is due and proper occasion for it.

If the Salvationist Army processions, with their tambourines, drums,
and inharmonious bands, are permitted on Sunday (which English people
were wont to observe in peace and quietness), then consistently a
Socialist procession must be allowed. And what other processions?
Freemasons, Religious Guilds, Clubs, - why should not the members of
the Reform, the Athenæum, the Conservative, the National Liberal,
organise processions? Why not the Garrick Club, headed by Mr. HENRY

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Online LibraryVariousPunch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 93, October 29, 1887 → online text (page 1 of 3)