PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 103. July 30, 1892. IAGO IN BIRMINGHAM. (_SHAKSPEARE ONCE MORE ON THE SITUATION. _) [Illustration] _Iago_ MR. J-S-PH CH-MB-RL-N. _Roderigo_ MR. J-SSE C-LL-NS. _Roderigo. _ Thou told'st me thou did'st hold him in thy hate. _Iago. _ Despise me, if I did not. The great ones of the City, In personal suit to make me his Lieutenant, Off-capped to him:--and, by the faith of man, I know my price--I am worth no worse a place; But he, as loving his own pride and purposes, Evades them with a bombast circumstance, Horribly stuffed with epithets of war; And, in conclusion, Nonsuits my meditators; for, "Certes, " says he, "I have already chose my officer. " And who was he? Forsooth, a great Arithmetician. * * * * * That never set a squadron in the field, Nor the division of a battle knows More than a spinster; unless the bookish theorick, Wherein the toged Consul can propose As masterly as he; mere prattle, without practice, Is all his soldiership. _But, Sir, he had the Election!_ * * * * * A RESULT OF BEING HOSPITABLE. SCENE--_Small, but Fashionable Club in West-End. _ _Algy. _ Waiter! bring me a brandy-and-soda. Don't feel up to theaverage to-day. _Hughie. _ Late last night? _Algy. _ Yes. Went to Mrs. CRAMMERLY's Dance, Prince's Gate. Goodnessknows _why_ I went! I don't think they'll get me there again in ahurry. _Charlie_ (_waking up from arm-chair_). Were _you_ a victim too? Ididn't see you there! _Algy. _ No. Because I probably left before you arrived. I had hadenough of it in an hour, and came on here to supper; not before Ihad nearly poisoned myself with a concoction that old CRAMMERLY wasasserting loudly, was an "'80 wine. " _Charlie_ (_laughing_). Ah! my dear friend, _I_ had been there before, and knew the ropes. Took pretty good care to steer clear of the wine, and got a chap to give me a whiskey-and-soda. _Uninvited Member. _ May I ask where was this charming Party? _Algy. _ At the CRAMMERLY's, Prince's Gate. Colonel CRAMMERLY. _Uninvited M. _ Colonel CRAMMERLY! Let's see, was he an old Crimea man? _Algy. _ _No_!--He _was_ Colonel in the Bounders Green Volunteers. (_Roars of laughter. _) You know "CRAMMERLY's Starch"--made a fortuneout of it. _Charlie. _ He must have spent a bit of it last night. They say theflowers alone cost over a thousand pounds. [Illustration] _Enter_ Captain O. _Captain O. _ Talking about the Colonel CRAMMERLY Party, eh? (_To_Uninvited M. ) Were you there? _Uninvited M. _ (_very satirically_). Oh, dear no! I fear I'm notsmart enough to warrant my admittance into that _charmed_ and _select_circle. [_Roars of laughter. _ _Capt. O. _ By Jove, you were well out of it. (_Addressing the Clubgenerally. _) Did--you ever see such--eh? _Charlie. _ I want to know where the deuce they get their men from. _Algy. _ I fancy they discover them in the City. _Jack. _ _I_ never met--such shocking people before. _Capt. O. _ Too dreadful for words. I could only conclude they musthave been relations. [_Roars of laughter. _ _Jack. _ By the way, did you notice that there was a "bounder" who wasreversing? _Uninvited M. _ (_with great indignation_). No!!! _Jack. _ I tell you it's a positive fact--I know it to my cost; for Iwas dancing with that youngest daughter, you know--the one who has thefluffy fringe over her forehead--and the brute bounced against us, and sent us flying. Never even apologised. If I could have got himoutside, I declare I would have given him a deuced good hiding. A manlike that ought to be kicked. _Uninvited M. _ Were the women any better? _Algy. _ Well, if you call Mrs. DASH any better! _Uninvited M. _ (_with tragic intensity_). You _don't_ mean to say_she_ was there! _Algy. _ I _do_. _Uninvited M. _ But do you mean to say that Mrs. CRAMMERLY has heard-- _Jack. _ No. She's deaf. [_Laughter. _ _Uninvited M. _ Well, you _do_ surprise me! (_After a long pause. _) Anyother shining lights of London Society? _Jack. _ No--except that fearful Mrs. JUSSOPH and her daughters, whohonoured me with an invitation to their afternoon party at theirsuburban residence at _West Kensington_. I don't know whether youregard them as an illumination. [_Roars of laughter. _ _Uninvited M. _ (_triumphantly. _) Good gracious! Then there waspositively no one there that one knows. _Algy_ (_thinking he has said something original_). No one, that one_wants_ to know. _Uninvited M. _ I suppose the whole thing was done for anadvertisement--? _Algy. _ Possibly. Anyhow, once bitten, twice shy. They won't get _me_inside their stuccoed palace again. _Chorus of Those who were at the Party. _ Same here! [_Pause. _ _Capt. O. _ (_lighting cigar by candle_). By the way, JACK, did oldCRAM. Ask you to Scotland for the 12th? _Jack. _ Yes. _Capt. O. _ So he did me. Shall you go? _Jack. _ It depends--I think so--if I don't get anything better. I'mtold it's a wonderful shoot. They pulled down over a thousand birdsthe first day, last year. _Capt. O. _ Does old CRAMMERLY shoot? _Jack. _ Oh dear no! He's as blind as a bat. He only rents it for hisfriends. _Capt. O. _ (_greatly relieved_). That's good news, for he's a terriblebore. He'd be a shocking nuisance on the Moors. I must say, I can'tstand _him_ at any price. _Jack. _ No, nor any of the family, for the matter of that. Well, ta, ta! Perhaps we shall meet there. I'm off to the Empire, to join somefriends who've got a box. [_Exit to enjoy further hospitality. _ * * * * * "PERFIDIOUS ALBION" AGAIN. --Lieutenant MIZON, with his grievancesagainst the British Niger Company, was _fêted_ last week in Paris. To inform Frenchmen that the British Company in question is not so_niger_ as it has been painted would be useless at the present moment, when Frenchmen are still loud in their applause of the speech made bythe Prefect of the Seine in such a _Mizon-scène_. [N. B. --_Jeu de mot_forwarded by our own "Prefect of the In-Seine. "] * * * * * FROM NEWCASTLE. --Mr. HAMOND, M. P. For Newcastle, charged Mr. JOHNMORLEY with having made a certain statement. Mr. MORLEY denied it, andasked Mr. HAMOND to substantiate the charge. Mr. HAMOND could not dothis, nor did he apologise. Is this the "_'Amond honorable_"? * * * * * [Illustration: SIR CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ; OR, THE INSULTING SULTAN ANDTHE HIGH-TONED CHRISTIAN KNIGHT. _A MODERN MOORISH BALLAD, AFTER THE FASHION OF BON GAULTIER. _] Brave Sir CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ! basely have they borne thee down; Thousands, thirty, would they tip thee as a churl they'd tip a crown? Thou at home hadst shown that Sultan with emphatic toe the door; In Morocco thou didst coolly turn thy back upon the Moor. Long in fiery Fez he lingered, subtle SMITHEZ, being bound To contract Commercial Treaty with the minions of MAHOUND. Full eight weeks' negociations smoothed that Treaty's parlous way; On the fifth July the Sultan swore it should be signed next day. But the false Frank's furtive whisper at the Sultan's ear was heard. (When the Frank may foil the Saxon won't he do so? Like a bird!) And the treacherous Moorish Monarch, to his people's interest blind, Sold the sham he dubbed his honour, changed the thing he deemed his mind. "Christian Knight, " began the Monarch ("knight" was diplomat for "dog"), "There is something in your Treaty, that I relish--like roast hog. Know Morocco is no home for Factories and Colossal Stores; And the omnipresent Bagman is a bugbear to my Moors! "All my Cadis, all my ladies, wish at--Hades Western Trade. You must make large alterations in the Treaty we've half made; Shape it not in Christian interests, Christian Knight, but in MAHOUND's, And--incline thine ear!--I'll give thee, Christian, Thirty Thousand Pounds!!!" Enter black slave bearing Treasure! Rangèd bags of glittering gold! Then upspake brave EUAN-SMITHEZ. "Hold, base Sultan; minion, hold! Dost thou think to bribe and buy a Christian Knight? A Paynim plan! If _I_ take it, thou mayst sell me to a Moorish dog's-meat man!" Then his steed obeyed his master, and he whinnied loud and free, Turned his back upon the tempter, caracoled with coltish glee; Struck out with his heels behind him, smote that slave upon the nose, Kicked the bags until the bullion in a Danaë shower arose. Never DON FERNANDO's charger, _Bavieca_, gave such spring, In the sawdust-sprinkled circus of AL-WIDDICOMB, the King! Never did DON GOMERSALEZ fill the Moslem with more fear, When he smote him o'er the mazzard with his streak-o'-lightning spear! And the scattered gold flew widely, urged by that prodigious kick, Smote the Frank behind the throne, although he dodged amazing quick; Spattered that insulting Sultan, like a splash of London mud, Blackening his dexter eye, and from his "boko" drawing blood. Then Sir CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ gave that Moorish Sultan beans, Holding it foul scorn--as did the pluckiest of Christian Queens-- a Christian Knight should take an insult from a turban'd Moor, Without landing him a hot 'un, without giving him what-for! Speed thee, speed thee, noble charger! Speed thee faster than the wind! Stout Sir CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ leaves that Moorish Fez behind; Shakes its sand from off his shoes, and, having wiped the Sultan's eye, Turns his back, and takes his hook, without e'en wishing him "Good-bye!" * * * * * [Illustration: PARLIAMENTARY PRIVILEGE. _Wife of the Late Member for Tooting. _ "ARCHIBALD, WHY WERE YOU SOGRUMPY AT THE BIGGE BOOTHBYS' TO-NIGHT?" _L. M. For T. _ "SUCH PEOPLE, SUCH A DINNER, FOR A MAN WHO HAS JUST LOSTHIS SEAT!" _Wife. _ "I'M SURE PARLIAMENT DIDN'T DO ANYTHING FOR YOU!" _L. M. For T. _ "AT LEAST IT SPARED ME THIS SORT OF THING HAPPENING SIXTIMES A WEEK!"] * * * * * OPERATIC NOTES. _Last Nights of the Season. _--_Monday. _--"By General Desire, " theSecond and Third Acts of DE LARA-Boom-de-ay's Opera, called _La Lucedell' Asia_, followed by _Cavalleria Rusticana_. Was "by generaldesire" applied to the entire programme, or only to its first part?Well, we may take for granted that everyone wanted to hear and seeagain--but especially to hear--the _Cavalleria_. So the "specialdesire" must apply to _La Luce_ solely and only. If so, then from thiswording we gather that the general and uncontrollable desire to hearthe Second and Third Acts of DE LA-RA-Boom's Opera did not extend toits Prologue, First Act, Fourth Act (if any), and Epilogue. But isit complimentary to a Composer to express a general wish to hear onlycertain portions of his work, implying thereby that the generallyun-expressed desire is rather against than for re-hearing the otherportions? All the same Sir COVENT GARDENIUS exercises a _sound_discretion in thus dealing with this particular Opera. _Tuesday. _--BEMBERG's New Opera, _Elaine_. _Chorus. _--Why was _Elaine_ Given again? O DRURIOLAN- US, please explain! And he did so, by saying in the programme "[fist] In consequence ofits Great Success and by general desire. " Ha! ha! look at the hand, with index-finger outstretched! By this sign, Sir DRURIOLANUS wouldhave us to understand that "this Opera was not one which ever went_without a hand_. " Moreover, Sir ORACLE tells us of its "GreatSuccess;" note the capitals, and note also, the expression itself, which was not found in the announcement of the repetition of theSecond and Third Acts of the Light Asian Opera on Monday. Isn'tthis an artful way of pitting Admirable BEMBERG against our ownaccomplished DE-LARA-Boom? "We" were not there either Monday orTuesday, which, as far as the inimitable _intermezzo_ of the "RusticChivalry" goes, was distinctly "our" loss. But they were going to dowithout us, and they did so; but whether ill or well, this deponent, meaning "We, " knoweth not; and so, we're like Brer Rabbit, who lay lowand said nothin'. Brer Wolf sezzee were kinder sorry he was unable togo Satterday arternoon for to hear Brer Fox's new Opera, _Nydia, theBlind Girl_. _Friday. _--_Don Giovanni. _--Madame DOTTI, in taking the _rôle_of _Donna Anna_, "took the cake. " Not going "a bit dotty, " but inexcellent form. * * * * * [Illustration] BE-LITTLER-ING MR. GLADSTONE'S MAJORITY. --Not that the G. O. M. Is"coming of age in the olden times, "--as somebody's picture hasit, --but that he is coming in with a mixed Majority of atoms difficultto be assimilated. This much exercises the wigorous brain of Mr. R. D. M. LITTLER, Q. C. Writing to the _Times_. Of course R. D. M. LITTLER, Q. C. --which initials, being interpreted, may mean, "Railway Directors'Man"--is the Conservativest of Conservatives--"but that's anotherTory, " as one may say, adapting RUDYARD KIPLING's phrase, --and, difficult as the G. O. M. May find it to get on with the aid of a LittleMajority, he couldn't get on any better with the aid of a Littler. * * * * * NOTE. --The Guide to Wild West Kensington should announce the objectsof interest in this Buffalo Bill Show, not as "classified, " but"Codyfied. " * * * * * [Illustration: THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE EXPRESSED OTHERWISE. _Host. _ "TAKE A LITTLE WHISKEY BEFORE YOU GO, JONES!" _Jones_ (_after helping himself_). "THANKS! MAY I POUR YOU OUT SOME?" _Host. _ "PLEASE--NOT TOO MUCH--JUST ABOUT HALF WHAT YOU'VE GIVENYOURSELF!"] * * * * * THE TRAVELLER. (_MODERN VERSION BY A GRATEFUL COOK'S TOURIST. _) [Mr. THOMAS COOK, originator of the great "Personally Conducted" Tourist and Excursionist System, died on Monday the 18th July, aged 84 years. ] "Remote, unfriended, melancholy slow, Or by the lazy Scheldt, or wandering Po?" Nay, gentle GOLDSMITH, it is thus no more, None now need fear "the rude Carinthian boor, " The bandit Greek, the Swiss of avid grin, Or e'en the predatory Bedouin. Where'er we roam, whatever realms to see, Our thoughts, great Agent, must revert to thee. From Parthenon or Pyramid, we look In travelled ease, and bless the name of COOK! Eternal blessings crown the wanderer's friend! At Ludgate Hill may all the world attend. Blest be that spot where the great world instructor Assumed the _rôle_ of Personal Conductor! Blest be those "parties, " with safe-conduct crowned, Who do in marshalled hosts the Regular Round; Gregarious gaze at Pyramid or Dome, The heights of Athens, or the walls of Rome, Then like flock-folded sheep, are shepherded safe home. "Let observation, with extensive view, Survey mankind from China to Peru. " By all means, yes, or even further fare, And Afric's forest huge and poisonous Pigmies dare. But, to avoid the lonely traveller's pain, From Ludgate Circus drag the well-linked chain; As Amurath to Amurath succeeds, So COOK to COOK! THOMAS's grandiose deeds What Tourist may forget? The great one's gone, But his vast enterprise shall still march on. What THOMAS started, is pursued by JOHN. Peace to the dust of the Great Pioneer, "Great COOK is dead, long live Great COOK!" we cheer. * * * * * DARK DOINGS. --Mrs. MARTHA RICKS, the emancipated black slave, who cameall the way from Liberia to pay Her Gracious MAJESTY a morning call, may be now known as "The QUEEN's Black Woman, " or as a companionsilhouette to "SALISBURY's Black Man. " Of course she will go backladen with valuable presents, quite a wealthy old lady, or "_RicksPecuniarum_. " * * * * * THE DUFFER IN POLITICS. My country neighbours at Mount Duffer are not literary. So very remotefrom this condition are they, that they regard men of letters as"awful men, " in the Shakspearian sense of the word. Consequently, since those papers began to appear, sometimes, in the pages of _Mr. Punch_, I have risen in the general esteem. Even JOHN DUC MACNAB hasbeen heard to admit, that though the MAC DUFFER is "nae gude ava' withthe rod or the rifle, he's a fell ane with the pen in his hand. Naeman kens what he means, he's that deep. " In consequence of the spreadof this flattering belief, I have been approached by various localParties, to sound my fathomless depths as a possible Candidate. [Illustration] First came a deputation of Jacobites. They were all ladies, ofdifferent ages, young and old; all wore ornaments in which the locksof Queen MARY, CHARLES THE FIRST, Prince CHARLIE, and other Saints andMartyrs, were conspicuously displayed. Would I stand as a Jacobite?they asked, and generally in the interests of Romance and Royalism. Isaid that I would be delighted; but inquired as to whether we had notbetter wait for Female Suffrage. That seemed our best chance, I said. They replied, that FLORA MACDONALD had no vote, and what was goodenough for her was good enough for them. I then hinted that it wouldbe well to know for which King, or Queen, I was to unfurl the bannerat Glenfinnon. I also suggested that the modern Crofters did not seemlikely to rally round us. The first question provoked a split, orrather several splits in our Party. It appeared that some five orsix Pretenders of both sexes, and of intricate genealogies, had theiradvocates. An unpleasant scene followed, and things were said whichcould never be forgiven. The deputation, which had been expectedto stay to luncheon, retired in tears, exclaiming for a variety ofmonarchs all "over the water. " The local Gladstonians came next. I had never declared myself, theysaid. Was I for Home Rule? I said we must first review Mr. GLADSTONE'snumerous writings about HOMER, and then come to Home Rule. "HOMERstops the way!" Were Mr. GLADSTONES Homeric theories compatible witha rational frame of mind? Here I felt very strong, and animated witha keen desire to impart information. The deputation said all thiswas ancient history. As to Home Rule itself, they said it reallydid not matter. What they wanted was, free poaching, free privatewhiskey-stills, free land, and a large head of game, to be kept up bythe proprietor, for the benefit of the glen, as in old times. I saidthat these seemed to me to be Utopian demands. If you all fish, andshoot, and drown the keepers in the linn, I urged, there will soon beno game left for any of you. No Game-laws, I observed, and you willobviously have no poaching. There will be nothing to poach, and nofun in doing it. They said that they would pay keepers to hold theSouthern bodies off, out of the rates, and the rates would be paid bythe Laird--meaning me. I said I knew that several Lairds were standingon this platform, but that, personally, if my land and rents were tobe taken away, I did not see how the rates were to be got out of myempty sporran. This was a new idea to them, but I cheered them upby saying I was in favour of Compulsory Access to Mountains, withno Personal Option in the matter. This was what the people needed, Isaid--they needed to be made to climb mountains, beginning with BoxHill. On Bank Holidays, I remarked, they never go to the top. Theystay where the beer is. I would have a staff of Inspectors, to seethat they went. The general limbs and lungs would be greatly improved, and the sale of whiskey, from private stills, would be increased. This unlucky remark divided my Party. The Free Kirk Minister wore ablue ribbon, and was a Temperance-at-any-price politician. Two of "TheMen, " however, --a kind of inspired Highland prophets--had a still oftheir own, and they and the Minister nearly came to blows. The Partythen withdrew, giving three cheers for Mr. GLADSTONE, but not pledgingthemselves to vote for me. The Eight Hours' people were at me next. I said I saw that the Billwould provide employment for a number of people, but I added, that Idid not see who was to pay the wages, nor who was to buy the goods. For, I remarked, you certainly cannot compete with foreign countriesat this rate, and at home the Classes will be competing with _you_, being obliged to have recourse to manual labour. They said that wasjust what they wanted, everybody to labour with his hands. I answeredthat many of the Classes, a poor lot at best (_cheers_), would comeon the Parish. Who was to pay the rates when everybody was working, and nobody was buying what was made? If there were no markets, wherewere you to sell your produce? They said they would live on the land. I answered that the land would not support the population: you wouldneed to import bread-stuffs, with what were you going to pay for them?I added that my heart was with them, but that they could only attaintheir ends by massacring or starving three-fourths of the population, and who knew how he himself might fare, with a three-to-one chanceagainst his survival? Suppose it did not come to that, I urged, suppose the Bill gave all the world employment; suppose that, somehow, it also paid their wages, or supported them, in a very short time youwould need a Four Hours' Bill (_cheers_), a Two Hours' Bill, a OneHour's Bill, of course with no fall in wages. The constitution ofthings would not run to it. They said that I had clearly not fought out the economic aspect ofthe question. I said that was how my hair was blanched, with trying tofight it out, but that, somehow, it always baffled me. I added remarksabout squaring the circle, but they said it was a good deal easier tosquare Mr. GLADSTONE. The friends of Total Prohibition of Vaccinationand of Beer were waiting, also a deputation, who wanted subscriptionsfor a SHELLEY Memorial, Russian Jews, Maxim guns for Missionaries, and other benevolent objects. I declined to see _them_, however, andwas left to solitude, and to the reflection that I am unfitted forthe sphere of active politics. In this belief the neighbours are nowpretty generally agreed, which, as I have no keen ambition to shine inParliament, is a very fortunate circumstance. * * * * * [Illustration: A VICTORY OF THE POLLS. MENTAL COLLAPSE OF AN ELECTION EDITOR AFTER COMPILING STATISTICS DAYAND NIGHT FOR THE LAST THREE WEEKS!] * * * * * LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS. _Mount Street, Grosvenor Square. _ DEAR MR. PUNCH, The Race for the Eclipse Stakes at Sandown was productive oftremendous excitement, and everybody turned pale as the two gallanthorses came up the straight, locked together, but the key tothe situation--Parliamentary phrase, due to the prevalence ofElections--was held by the champion _Orme_, who managed to get home, "all out" by a neck!--at least, Lord ARTHUR said he was "_all out_, "though how he could be "_home_" at the same time I don't quiteunderstand--but he may have been alluding to the backers of _Orvieto_. I was told that _St. Damien_ "made up a lot of ground at the finish;"but I can't say I noticed it myself, as the course looked to meexactly as it did before the race! Dear me! how pleased my friendsthe Duke and Duchess of WESTMINSTER did look! and with good reason, too--it was a wonderful task for _Orme_ to accomplish, with only sixweeks' training!--it must have been a _special_ train all the time;in fact, the one he was brought to Sandown in, I suppose. Being unable to go to Leicester, I took advantage of a militaryescort, offered me by--(no--let the gallant officer's name remain asecret--he little thought he was escorting a Press-lady)--to pay avisit to the New Wimbledon--and being nothing if not loyal, I chosethe day when the shooting for the "Queen's" commenced. My escortinformed me with an inane smile, that the Camp had experienced "Bisleyweather;" the feebleness of which joke so annoyed me, that I am halfinclined to put his name in the pillory of public print--(what aglorious expression for our own Midlothian Mouther)--but I refrain, for reasons connected with Lord ARTHUR. I must say that I think Bisley has a more business-like look thanWimbledon ever had, though perhaps this is scarcely to the taste ofthe average feminine visitor, who used to enjoy pic-nicing to theaccompaniment of whizzing bullets, and does not appreciate the latterwithout the former. The shooting was very uncertain in the firststage of the Queen's, as the wind was in a variable mood--(is the wind_feminine_, I wonder?)--going sometimes at eighteen and sometimesat thirty miles an hour, which was disconcerting and inconsideratebehaviour (it _must_ be feminine!)--calculated to annoy anyright-minded Volunteer! Indeed, one notoriously good shot, PrivateCHICKEN, although a good _plucked_ one--having made six misses in tenshots--declined to be _roasted_ by his friends, and retired into his_casserole_--which is French for tent, I believe--while several othermarksmen (why marksmen?) found themselves carefully placing theirbullets on other people's targets. However, I was much struck with the equanimity with which reverseswere accepted by the members of our gallant Amateur Army, andintend composing an ode in their honour, to be sung in camp tothe accompaniment of bullets, bagpipes, and brass bands! (morealliteration for the Midlothian Maltese Marriage Merchant), therefrain of which will run thus:-- The Volunteer! The Volunteer!! No matter how the wind may veer! Will have no fear! and will not sweer! so do not jeer!!! the Volunteer!!!" --appropriate _patriotic_ music to which will be written by SignorCLEMENTI SCHIOTTI! There is no racing of any importance this week, there being only asmall Meeting under Pic Nic Rules, at a place called Goodwood--(Iwrite of it in this contemptuous way, as I am not goingmyself)--somewhere on the coast of the Solent--to which I need notallude at any length; I will, therefore, only mention one racehaving been so successful lately, that I can afford to rest on myoars--(rather an insecure position by the way, for anyone who can'tswim!) and remain as usual Yours devotedly, LADY GAY. CHESTERFIELD CUP SELECTION. To win such a race as the Chesterfield Cup, Is a task wanting speed and endurance; And the duty of all, ere the ghost giving up, Is to quickly effect an _Insurance_. " _P. S. _--I don't see any _sense_ in this, but the _rhyme_ is good! L. G. * * * * * [Illustration: UNPLEASANT DUTIES OF CLUB LIFE. MONSIEUR VICTOR ACHILLE PÉTROLY, THE NEW CHEF, IS SUDDENLY SUMMONEDBEFORE THE COMMITTEE TO RECEIVE A REPRIMAND. THE QUESTION IS, WHO'S TO ADMINISTER IT?] * * * * * WILLIAM THE WHEELMAN. _Enthusiastic Cyclist loquitur_:-- I have noticed with unfeigned and real pleasure, The rapid growth of Cycling. (_How it jumps!_) To those who have the energy and leisure It affords--(_Confound this saddle! it so bumps!_) What otherwise would be quite unattainable, A healthy, and a pleasurable form Of exercise. (_Yes, health is hereby gainable;_ _But I am most uncomfortably warm!_) It gives them the advantages of travel, (_By Jingo! I was nearly over then!_ _A tumble and the "gravel-rash" would gravel_ _The nimblest of extremely Grand Old Men_) Which, previous to the Cycle's happy advent, Were out of almost everybody's reach. (_And to the "spirits" of the cycling-cad vent. _ _'Arry on Wheels the law must manners teach. _) It's really very much more profitable Than is the long luxurious rail way journey. (_If in the saddle I feel not more stable, _ _I'll be "unhorsed, " like tilter in a tourney!_) Monotonous the journey from the City, Along a fixed unalterable route. (_This is an old "bone-shaker. " 'Tis a pity!_ _For over the front wheel one's apt to shoot. _) The traveller's whirled from station unto station, (_I wish there were more stations on this road_, ) With hardly half a chance for observation. (_If I know where I am, may I be blowed!_), Without an opportunity to examine The district. (_Wish that I could spot a pub!_ _For I am overdone with thirst and famine, _ _And see no chance of tipple or of grub!_) (_I must travel many miles o'er clay or cobble, _ _I fear, before I'll have a real rest, _ _The big wheel and the little shift and wobble, _ _I think the low pneumatic Cycle's best. _ _Eh? "Dangerous to Cyclists!" That's a notice, _ _I fancy, that suggests a spin down-hill. _ _How stiff I feel! How very parched my throat is!_ _Hold up! By Jove, but that was near a spill!_) I emphasise the fact that I consider That, physically--(_Pheugh! that little wheel_ _Is dangerous as poor old WELLER's "widder_, ") Yes, morally, and socially, I feel The benefits of Cycling are unbounded, Almost--(_Almost I fear a nasty fall!_ _I wish, with big and little wheel confounded, _ _That I were on a Safety, after all!_) * * * * * WHISPER BY _AN ILL_ WIND. --If Alderman KNILL cannot conscientiouslyattend the Established Church service, whereat it is not essential fora Lord Mayor to be present, the Court of Aldermen ought to be proudof him, and elect him "Willy-Knilly" to be Lord Mayor all the same. Whatever may be the result, of Alderman KNILL nothing but good can besaid. "_Nil nisi bonum. _" * * * * * BLACK GAME. --"Bother Morocco!" says a Sportsman. "What's the news fromthe Moors?" * * * * * A PROSPECT OF THE TWELFTH. (_BY AN IMPRESSIONIST. _) Certainly, I can foresee my adventures. I can tell of my march overthe heather, of my delight as the breezy air sweeps over the moors, and helps to bronze my already sunburnt face! I can fancy the chatter of the keeper as he holds my second gun, andpays me that attention which can only be wiped off by tips! I can hearthe sound of the first shot, and decipher the meaning of the initialpuff of smoke! I can see the shadows disappearing as lunchtime comes to hand. I canrecognise the cart with its goodly contents, and the girls who willsit beside us as we discuss our modest pies (hot and savoury, ) andquaff our '84. And then I can hear the retreating footsteps as thedarlings trip away, leaving us to resume our chase after the birds. And then the shadows will grow longer, and the sun will set behindthe hills in a mass of purple, red, and gold; and it will be time forus to turn our faces towards the shooting-box that will shelter usthrough the long watches of the summer's night. And lastly I can see the final halt at the poulterer's, as we purchasethe grouse to fill our bags before the journeying home. * * * * * A GEOGRAPHICAL THEORY. --"Where _is_ Liberia?" inquired one culturedperson of another, _à propos_ of Mrs. RICKS's interview with theQUEEN. "I'm sure _I_ don't know, " was the answer, "but--judging by thename--I should think it was _exactly opposite_ to Siberia. " * * * * * [Illustration: WILLIAM THE WHEELMAN. "'I CAN ONLY EMPHASISE THE FACT THAT I CONSIDER THAT PHYSICALLY, MORALLY, AND SOCIALLY, THE BENEFITS THAT CYCLING CONFERS ON THE MENOF THE PRESENT DAY ARE ALMOST UNBOUNDED. ' (_Aside. _) _WISH I WERE ONA 'SAFETY'!!_"] * * * * * MINOR MISERIES. NO. I. --TO A LADY ON WHOSE TABLE-CLOTH HE HAD UPSET THE MUSTARD-POT. Dear Lady, in your dining-room I sat, a melancholy slave. Your smiles could hardly chase my gloom; While others jested, I was grave. And still you saw me sit and sit-- "Enough of this, " you said, "come, come, Be cheerful. " While I merely bit A foolish, irresponsive thumb, And found no comfort in the act, And cursed myself, the clumsy Goth, As void of fingers as of tact, Who spilt the mustard on the cloth! That was the cause of all my woe-- Good lack, I blame my thumbs in vain; Still on the cloth's expanded snow I seem to see that yellow stain. And still you sit and speak me fair, And still your Butler grimly smiles, The while I paint in mustard there A sketch-map of the British Isles. I think it had repaid my guilt Had you flashed fire like Ashtaroth, And scorched the clumsy wretch who spilt That flood of mustard on your cloth. Beef, pudding, cherry-tart, and cream, What more could mortal man desire? I munched them idly in a dream, My head sang like a village choir. I fumbled with the silver pot From which that tawny torrent ran; I heard you say it mattered not, To cheer a miserable man. So here I thank you; may I be Extinct as is the Behemoth Rather than spill by Fate's decree Once more the mustard on your cloth. * * * * * THE NEXT AFRICAN MISSION. (_TELEGRAPHIC PRÉCIS OF THE NEGOCIATIONS. _) _First Day. _--Arrived safely at the Sultan's capital. Everything inproper order. Draft Treaty in my trunk with my diplomatic uniform. Escort in marching order. Ammunition in waggon. Quite ready tocommence negociations. Only waiting for the conjuring paraphernaliaof Herr VON KLEVERMANN to come up with us. Thought that that specialmorning performance before the King and Queen of the Cannibal Islandswould delay matters. _Second Day. _--Herr VON KLEVERMANN and his traps have arrived incamp. Looked over the conjuring tricks. Sorry to find that one of thebest (the Inexhaustible Bottle) has been stolen by the Queen of theCannibal Islands. As time is an object, unable to send back to recoverit. Might have to fight for it, too, which would possibly lessen thenumbers of our escort. Experts declare that the Inexhaustible Bottlecould only be secured at the point of the bayonet. Have arranged fora meeting with the Sultan to-morrow. _Third Day. _--Sultan's toothache better. His Majesty having sent wordthat he would be glad to see me, I, accompanied by the Interpreter, the Commander of the Escort, and last, but certainly not least, Herr VON KLEVERMANN, arrived at the Palace. Found that the Lord HighChamberlain had been removed yesterday. The Lord High Executionerwas acting in his stead. In fact, this overworked official seemedto be the solitary survivor of the Imperial Household. The LordHigh Executioner told us that His Majesty had been very irritableyesterday. The Sultan, he said, was now in a good temper, and wasquite harmless. I found His Majesty most gracious. However, hesaid that he was not quite prepared to sign a Commercial Treaty. Heoffered, in lieu of signature, to give me twelve sacks of emeralds(uncut), and the wives of six of his Field-Marshals. Explained thatno representative of England could entertain such a suggestion. TheSultan, upon this, terminated the interview. _Fourth Day. _--The Sultan having learned that Herr VON KLEVERMANNwas a member of my _suite_, expressed a wish for a second meeting. I consequently attended at the Palace. Herr VON KLEVERMANN, havingproduced a number of artificial-flowers, a birdcage, and a rabbit, from an Opera-hat, His Majesty asked the price. I immediately replied, a Treaty of Commerce. I am to sail again to-morrow. _Fifth Day. _--Had another interview with His Majesty. The Sultanwanted to know the terms of the proposed Treaty. I replied, freeaccess to the interior for British merchandise, and the abolition ofslavery. His Majesty replied, he did not mind the abolition of slaveryso much, on the understanding that the regulation did not apply tohim. Herr VON KLEVERMANN then produced his Magic hat, and brought outfrom it a cup of coffee, half-a-dozen recently-washed handkerchiefs, and a white mouse. The last item caused us to be hurriedly expelledfrom the Palace. It appears that the Sultan greatly objects to mice. The Interpreter should have informed me of this peculiarity. _Sixth Day. _--Received a message from His Majesty to the effect thathe would be glad to see me and Herr VON KLEVERMANN again, on thecondition that nothing objectionable should be produced from theMagic hat. Herr VON KLEVERMANN once more gave a _séance_. The eminententertainer extracted from the Gibus a portmanteau, a soup-tureen, anda lady's watch. His Majesty greatly delighted. He signed the Treaty, and possessed himself of the hat. _Seventh Day. _--Knowing that it was as well to leave the country assoon as possible, started early. Herr VON KLEVERMANN had expressedhis doubts whether His Majesty would be satisfied. It appears thatthe Magic hat requires a good deal of preparation to be effective. TheHerr's forebodings of evil were speedily verified. The Mission hadnot gone a mile before we were followed by the entire army. We made ademonstration with the machine-gun, which had the effect of destroyingsix or seven brigades of the enemy. The Sultan in person, declaredthat he considered the Treaty null. Nothing to do but retire as bestwe could. _Eighth Day. _--Deeply regret failure of the Mission. However, findthat the King and Queen of the Cannibal Islands are anxious forannexation to England. They seem impressed with the notion thatthe British Government have power to cause a flow of spirits fromthe Inexhaustible Bottle which, since the departure of Herr VONKLEVERMANN, has ceased to yield alcoholic drinks. Of course, shall donothing in this new matter until I receive further instructions. _Ninth Day. _--Embarked on my return home. * * * * * [Illustration: FANCY PORTRAIT. THE RIGHT MAN IN THE RIGHT PLACE--BENNETT, M. P. FOR LINCOLN. ] * * * * * ADVICE TO THE G. O. M. (_FROM A MATHEMATICAL TORY. _) Take forty-two, and carry eight (Eight hours, I mean), then mind your eye; Bring all your items up to date, And do your best to multiply Your sheep by next subtracting votes From over-suffraged Tory goats. By Registration Law perplexed, Take "qualifying periods" next, And at one swoop reduce with glee Twelve months, or more, to only three. Add labour to your motley crew, Subtract (from life) a church or two. Produce, with geometric skill, The lines of many a promised bill. But state--the Unionists to vex-- That Home Rule always equals _x_. Raise, in a rash, disastrous hour, Campaigning Ireland to a power. And thus, to prayers and protests deaf, Bisect the Empire. _Q. E. F. _ * * * * * PRETENCE VERSUS DEFENCE. SCENE--_Whitehall. Time--The Present. Enter Universal Inspector-General, accompanied by Mr. Admiralty Official. _ _Universal Inspector-General. _ So you are going to have NavalManoeuvres after all, Mr. Admiralty Official? _Mr. Adm. Official. _ Yes, General, we are. _Un. Ins. -Gen. _ And are you going to do anything new this time? _Mr. Ad. Off. _ Nothing more than the usual meaningless cruising. _Un. Ins. -Gen. _ I read something about the landing of the wounded? _Mr. Ad. Off. _ Ah--that _is_ new! We are going to "assume" a numberof wounded. To quote from the _Regulations_--"Before the ships leavefor the ports, officers in command of fleets and squadrons are tocommunicate to each Commander-in-Chief, by telegraph, the aggregatenumber of assumed wounded that may be expected to reach his port. " _Un. Ins. -Gen. _ Tell me what do we want with these pointlessManoeuvres? Wouldn't it have answered everyone's purpose if therehad been a lecture in lieu of them at the Royal United ServiceInstitution? _Mr. Ad. Off. _ I should not be surprised. _Un. Ins. -Gen. _ Then why run into this unnecessary expense? _Mr. Ad. Off. _ You really must ask my successor! [_Exeunt severally. _ * * * * * THE OTHER SIDE OF THE CANVASS. (_A PURELY IMAGINARY SKETCH. _) [Illustration: "_You_ know 'ow to do it!"] SCENE--_A Portico in Portman Square. Mr. BENJAMIN GULCHER (an ardent Radical Artisan, canvassing the district on behalf of a "pal" of his, who is putting up as a Labour Candidate), discovered on the doorstep. _ _Mr. Gulcher_ (_to himself--after knocking_). Some might think it wason'y waste of time me callin' at a swell 'ouse o' this sort--but themas lives in the 'ighest style is orfen the biggest demmycrats. Yer_never_ know! Or p'raps this Sir NORMAN NASEBY ain't made his mind upyet, and I can tork him over to _our_ way o' thinking. (_The doorsare suddenly flung open by two young men in a very plain and sombrelivery. _) Two o' the _young_ 'uns, I s'pose. (_Aloud. _) 'Ow _are_ yer?Father in, d'yer know? _First Footman_ (_loftily_). I don't know anything about your father, I'm sure. Better go down the airey-steps and inquire there. _Mr. G. _ (_annoyed with himself. _) It's my mistake. I didn't see yerwere on'y flunkeys at first. It's yer Guv'nor _I_ want--the ole man! _First Footman_ (_with cold dignity_). If you are illewding to SirNORMAN, he is not at home. _Mr. G. _ (_indignantly_). 'Ow can yer tell me sech a falsehood, whenI can see him myself, a-dodgin' about down there in the passage!(_Forces his way past the astonished men into the hall, and addressesa stately Butler in plain clothes. _) 'Ere, Sir NASEBY, I've come in to'ave a little tork with you on the quiet like. _The Butler_ (_not displeased_). I don't happen to be Sir NORMANhimself, my good man. Sir NORMAN is out. _Mr. G. _ Out, is he? _that's_ a pity! I wanted to see him on importantbusiness. But look 'ere--p'raps his Missus is in--_She'll_ do! (_Tohimself. _) I gen'ally git along with the wimmin-folk--_some_ 'ow! _The Butler. _ I can't say if her Ladyship is at home. If you like tosend up your name, I'll inquire. _Mr. G. _ You tell her Mr. BENJAMIN GULCHER is 'ere, if she'll stepdown a minnit. She needn't _'urry_, yer know, if she's 'aving herdinner or cleanin' herself. (_To himself, as the_ Butler _departsnoiselessly. _) Civil-spoken party that--one o' the lodgers, seemin'ly. Roomy sort o' crib this 'ere. Wonder what they pay a week for it! _Butler_ (_returning_). Her Ladyship will see you, if you will stepthis way. [_Mr. G. Is taken up a staircase, and ushered into the presence of Lady NASEBY, who is seated at her writing-table. _ _Lady N. _ (_still writing_). One moment, please. My husband is outjust now--but if you will kindly state the nature of your businesswith him, I daresay I could--(_She looks up. _) Good Heavens! Whatcould have possessed CLARKSON to show such a person as that in _here_!(_To herself. _) _Mr. G. _ (_in his most ingratiating manner_). Well, Mum, in theabsence of his Lordship, I am sure you'll prove a 'ighly agreerblesubstitoot! _Lady N. _ (_freezingly_). May I ask you to tell me--in two words--whatit is you wish to see him about. _Mr. G. _ _Certingly_ you may, Mum! It's like this 'ere. I want yourgood Gentleman to promise me his vote and influence for Mr. JOEQUELCH, as we're runnin' for a Labour Candidate this Election. _Lady N. _ I really cannot answer for my husband's views on politicalmatters, Mr. --a--SQUELCHER; I make it a rule _never_ to interfere. _Mr. G. _ Jest what _my_ old woman sez. I've learnt her not to argywith _me_ on politics. But, yer see, a deal depends on the way athing is _done_, and--(_insinuatingly_)--a good-lookin' woman liksyourself--(Lady N. _gasps out a faint little "Oh!" here_)--oh, I'mon'y tellin' yer what yer know already--'ud find it easy enough to gether better 'alf to vote _her_ way, if she chooses. You take him someevenin'--say a Saturday, now--when he's jest 'ad enough to feel 'appy, and coax him into giving his vote to QUELCH. _You_ know 'ow to do it!And he's the _right_ man, mind yer, QUELCH is--the right _man_! _Lady N. _ (_almost inaudibly_). How--how _dare_ you come into myhouse, and offer me this impertinent advice! How--? _Mr. G. _ (_good-temperedly_). Easy there, Lady--no impertinenceintended, I'm sure. I shouldn't come in 'ere, intrudin' on the sacredprivacy of the British 'Ome, which I'm quite aware an Englishman's'Ouse is his Castle--and rightly so--if I didn't feel privileged like. I'm _canvassing_, I am! _Lady N. _ You are taking a most unpardonable liberty, and, if you havethe _slightest_ sense of decency-- _Mr. G. _ (_imploringly_). Now look 'ere--don't let us 'ave a vulgar_row_ over this! I ain't goin' to lose _my_ temper. Strike--but 'earme! If we don't think alike, there's no reason why you and me shouldfall out. I put that to _you_. It's likely enough you don't _know_ JOEQUELCH? _Lady N. _ (_with temper_). I never heard of the man in my life! _Mr. G. _ (_triumphantly_). See there, now. That's where canvassingcomes in, d'yer see? It's our honly way of combating the higniranceand hapathy of the Upper Classes. Well, I'll tell yer somethink_about_ 'im. QUELCH worked as a lighterman on a barge fourteen yearsfor eighteen bob a-week. Ain't _that_ a Man of the People for yer? Andif he gits into Parliment, he'll insist on Labour bein' served fust;he's in favour of Shortened Hours of Labour, Taxation o' GroundRents, One Man one Vote, Triannual Parliments and Payment o' Members, Compulsory Allotments, Providin' Work by Gov'ment for the Unemployed, Abolition o' the 'Ouse o' Lords, and a Free Breakfast Table. Ah, andhe means _'aving_ it too. That's what JOE is. But look 'ere, whynot come and 'ear what he's got to say for yerself? He's 'oldin' asmall open-air meetin' in Kipper's Court this evenin', ar-past eightpercisely. You come and bring yer 'usban', and I'll guarantee yougit a good place close to the cheer. I'll interdooce yer to himarterwards, and he'll answer any questions yer like to arsk him--fair_and_ straight! _Lady N. _ (_feebly_). Thank you very much; but--but we areunfortunately dining out this evening, so I'm _afraid_-- _Mr. G. _ (_more in sorrow than in anger_). There it _is_, yer see. Yerafraid. Afraid o' 'earing the truth. Carn't trust yerself to listen toboth sides. But I don't despair of yer yet. See 'ere; is it 'Ome Rulethat separates us? 'Cos, if so, it needn't. QUELCH don't care no morefor 'Ome Rule than that 'ere penwiper do, between you and me! On'y, yer see, he carn't _say_ so at present, d'yer ketch my meanin'? (LadyN. _rings the bell in despair_. ) Oh, thankee, Mum, if you _are_so kind, I'll take whatever yer goin' to 'ave yerself, _I_ ain'tpartickler. [Illustration: NEW FACES IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. (_According to the Portraits that have appeared in the IllustratedPapers. _)] _Lady N. _ (_as the Butler appears_). CLARKSON, show this--thisgentleman the way out. _Mr. G. _ Don't you trouble, old pal, I can find it for myself. (_To_Lady N. ) I b'lieve, if the truth was known, you're comin' roundalready, Mum. I'll tell yer what I'll do. I'll leave some o' these'ere little pamphlicks, as you might git your good man to run his eyeover. "_Why_ I am a Radikil, " "The Infamy of Tory Gov'ment, " "'Ow weare Robbed!" &c. And 'ere's a picter-poster--"The 'Orrers of Coercionunder the Brutal BALFOUR!" Yer might put it up in yer front winder--itdon't _commit_ yer to nothing, yer know!--it'll amuse the kids, ifyou've any family. _Clarkson_ (_in his ear_). Will you walk downstairs quietly, or shallI have to pitch you? _Mr. G. _ (_roused at last_). What, I'm to cop the push, am I? An'what _for_, eh? What 'ave I done more than you swells ha' bin doin'ever since the Elections started? (_To_ Lady N. ) You come pokin' into_our_ 'ouses, without waitin' to be invited, arskin' questions andsoft-sawderin', and leavin' tracks and coloured picters--and we putup with it all. But as soon as one of _us_ tries it on, what do yerdo?--ring for the Chucker-out! Ah, and reason enough, too--yer knowyer'll get beaten on the argyments! (_Here he is gently but firmlyled out by_ CLARKSON, _and concludes his observations on the' stairsoutside. _) Stuck-up, pudden'-'eaded fossils!... Battenin' on thePeople's brains!... Your time'll come some day!... Wait till QUELCH'ears o' this! &c. , &c. _Lady N. _ (_alone_). Thank goodness he's gone!--but _what_ an ordeal!I really _must_ part with CLARKSON. And--whatever the PrimroseLeague Council may say--I shall have to tell them I _must_ give upcanvassing. I don't think I _can_ do it any more--after this! * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. "Read it!" said Everyone. "Read what?" asked the Baron. "_TheWrecker_, " answered Everyone. "I will, " quoth the Baron, promptly. And--it was done. It took some time to do, but of this more anon. The Baron's time is fully occupied, never mind how, but fully, takehis word for it. A copy of _The Wrecker_ was at once provided by itspublishers, Messrs. CASSELL & Co. , and the question for the Baron toconsider, was not "What will I do with it?" but How, when, and where, will I read it? Clearly 'twas no ordinary book. Everybody was sayingso, and what Everybody is saying has considerable weight. A book notto be trained through at express pace, so that the beauties of thesurrounding scenery would be lost, but something that when oncetaken up cannot be put down again, like the brass knobs worked by anelectric-battery, --something giving you fits and starts, and shocks, as do the electric brass-knobs aforesaid; something that, if you beginit at 4 P. M. , exhausts you by dinner-time, and after dinner, keeps youawake till you read the last line at 2 A. M. , and then tumble into bedparched, fevered, exhausted, but in ecstasies of delight, feeling asif you were the hero who had experienced all the dangers, and had comeout of them triumphantly. [Illustration] Such were the Baron's anticipations as to the joys in store for himon reading _The Wrecker_, by Messrs. ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON and LLOYDOSBOURNE. The Baron hit on a plan, he must isolate himself as if hewere a telephone-wire. "Good, " quoth he, "Isolation is the sincerestflattery, --towards authors. " The friend in need, not in the sense ofbeing out at elbows, appeared at the right moment, as did the Slaveof the Lamp to _Aladdin_. "Come to my house in the mountains, " saidthis Genius, heartily; "come to the wold where the foxes dwell, nota hundred miles from a cab-stand, yet far far away, --amid lovelyscenery, in beautiful air, to quiet reposeful rooms, with the silenceof the cloister and the jollity of the Hall where beards wag all, inthe evening, when the daily task is done. " "Friend REGINALD SYDE, Ithank thee, " responded gratefully the Baron. "I am there!" And in lesstime than it takes to go the whole distance in a four-horsed coachwith a horn blowing and the horses blown, the Baron, travelling byspecial express, was there, --all there! The Authorities on the linemade no extra charge for taking _The Wrecker_ as luggage. The weather was favourable for reading; an interminable downpour, whenone is grateful for any book, even a _Dictionary of Dates_, or theremains of a _Boyle's Court Guide_. The Brave Baron shut himself intohis room, laid in stores of tobacco and grog, decided, in the courseof half an hour, on a comfortable position, and then laid himself outfor the perusal, not to say the study, of _The Wrecker_. IntroductoryChapter excellent, --appetising. "_Oliver_ asks for more, " murmursthe Baron to himself, settling down to "the Yarn. " Chapter I. Now astrange thing happened. The Story broke off! suddenly--inexplicably. Descriptions, yes, by the handful, by the cartload--all excellent, nodoubt--and much to be appreciated by a reader with nothing on earthto do the whole year round; but, about page 53, the Baron began to beuneasy, shifted his pillows, refilled pipe, took "modest quencher, "and then turned to grapple with _The Wrecker_. No good. Where thedeuce had the Story got to? When would the excitement come in? Wherewas the sensation? Toiling on, went the Baron, stopping frequentlyto wish he had a dictionary wherein he might ascertain the meaning ofstrange, uncouth words and phrases, and to anathematise the Authorsseparately or together. Had OSBOURNE interfered with STEVENSON, or wasSTEVENSON allowing OSBOURNE to have his say, reserving himself for agrand _coup_ at half-price? Would OSBOURNE chuck STEVENSON overboard, or was it to be t'other way off? At page 90 the Baron decided hewould take a walk round, even if it were pouring cats and dogs, andexclaiming, "Air, air, give me air!" he rushed forth. It was fine. A brisk walk and a talk--just like King CHARLES "who walked andtalked"--with his genial host REGI SYDE, restored the Baron'scirculation, and made him wonder to himself at the reported greatcirculation of the book. Back to his room again--into easy chair--p. 100--_Happy Thought_. This book is about ships and sea, The Baron willbe a Skipper!--and so he skips, skips, with great relief, until "Asail in sight appears, "--spell it "sale, " and there's a picture ofit--"He hails it with three cheers!" Now the Story, at p. 134, begins in good earnest, and, except for theidle dilletante reader, all the foregoing, from the first Chapter, might go by the board--that is, as far as the Baron can make out. Hespeaks only for himself. The Chapter describing the sale by auction isfirst-rate; no doubt about it. The Baron's spirits, just now down tozero, rose to over 100°. On we go: Throw over OSBOURNE, and come alongwith Louis STEVENSON of _Treasure Island_. Bah! that exciting Chapterwas but a flash in the pan: brilliant but brief: and "Here we are!"growls the Baron, "struggling along among a lot of puzzling lumberin search of excitement number two, which does not seem to come untilChapter XXIV. , p. 383. " Then there is a good blow out--of brains, ascrimmaging, a banging, and a firing, and a scuffling, and a fainting, and one marvellous effect. And then--is heard no more. The Baron harksback, harks for'ard. No: puzzlement is his portion. Who was who, wheneverybody turned out to be somebody else? Where was the Money? or moreimportant, Where is the Interest? "Well, that I cannot tell, " quothhe, "but 'twas a famous queer Sto-_ree_!" Perhaps the Baron, readingagainst time, did not do it justice; or, perhaps he did. Anyway, meeting a Lady-Stevensonian admirer, the Baron ventured to communicateto her his great disappointment; whereupon she timidly whispered, "Well, Baron, to tell you the truth, I quite agree with you. I foundit awfully tedious--except the sensations; but everybody is praisingit; so please, O please, do not betray my secret!" "Madam, a lady'ssecret, even the universally-known _Lady Audley's Secret_, isinviolable when intrusted to Your devoted Servant, THE BARON DE B. -W. " * * * * * SUMMERUMBRELLA. [Illustration] I long for sunshine, such as there must be In Egypt, blazing on the native Fellah; I see no sun or sky, I only see My own Umbrella! "No sun, no moon, " as HOOD wrote long ago, "No sky, " no star--called, by the Romans, _stella_-- Like negative November here below, My own Umbrella! Think not of "AMARYLLIS in the shade"! Can I play tennis in the rain with BELLA, Holding aloft, while through the flood I wade, My own Umbrella? I'm sick of sitting in the Club to scoff; I'll take a walk. Hang me! Some English "fellah" Has left his rotten gamp, and carried off My own Umbrella! * * * * * [fist] NOTICE. --Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS. , Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in nocase be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and AddressedEnvelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.