Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 100, June 13, 1891
Date: 2004-09-04T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: English wit and humor -- Periodicals

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 100, June 13, 1891

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 100, June 13, 1891

Author: Various

Release date: September 4, 2004 [eBook #13373]
Most recently updated: December 18, 2020

Language: English

Credits: Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Sandra Brown and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team.

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOLUME 100, JUNE 13, 1891 ***

PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

Vol. 100.

June 13, 1891.

VOCES POPULI.

AT A MUSIC HALL.

SCENE—The Auditorium of a Music Hall, the patrons of which are respectable, but in no sense "smart." The occupants of the higher-priced seats appear to have dropped in less for the purpose of enjoying the entertainment than of discussing their private affairs—though this does not prevent them from applauding everything with generous impartiality.

The Chairman. Ladies and Gentlemen, the Celebrated Character-Duettists and Variety Artistes, the Sisters SILVERTWANG, will appear next!

[They do; They have just sung a duet in praise of Nature with an interspersed step-dance. "Oh, I love to 'ear the echo on the Moun-ting!" (Tiddity-iddity-iddity-iddity-um!) "And to listen to the tinkle of the Foun-ting!" (Tiddity, &c.)

A White-capped Attendant (taking advantage of a pause, plaintively). Sengwidges, too-pence!

Voluble Lady in the Shilling Stalls (telling her Male Companion an interminable story with an evasive point). No, but you 'ear what I'm going to tell you, because I'm coming to it presently. I can't remember his name at this moment—something like BUDKIN, but it wasn't that, somewhere near Bond Street, he is, or a street off there; a Scotchman, but that doesn't matter! (Here she breaks off to hum the Chorus of "Good Ole Mother-in-Law!" which is being sung on the stage.) Well, let me see—what was I telling you? Wait a minute, excuse me, oh, yes,—well, there was this picture,—mind you, it's a lovely painting, but the frame simply nothing, not that I go by frames, myself, o' course not, but I fetched it down to show him—oh, I know what you'll say, but he must know something about such things; he knew my uncle, and I can tell you what he is—he's a florist, and married nineteen years, and his wife's forty—years older than me, but I've scarcely spoke to her, and no children, so I fetched it to show him, and as soon as he set eyes on it, he says—(Female "Character-Comic" on Stage, lugubriously. "Ritolderiddle, ol de ray, ritolderiddle, olde-ri-ido!") I can't tell you how old it is, but 'undreds of years, and Chinese, I shouldn't wonder, but we can't trace its 'istry—that's what he said, and if he don't know, nobody does, for it stands to reason he must be a judge, though nothing to me,—when I say nothing, I mean all I know of him is that he used to be—(Tenor Vocalist on Stage. "My Sweetheart when a Bo-oy!") I always like that song, don't you? Well, and this is what I was wanting to tell you, she got to know what I'd done—how is more'n I can tell you, but she did, and she come straight in to where I was, and I see in a minute she'd been drinking, for drink she does, from morning to night, but I don't mind that, and her bonnet all on the back of her head, and her voice that 'usky, she—(Tenor. "She sang a Song of Home Sweet Home—a song that reached my heart!") And I couldn't be expected to put up with that, you know, but I haven't 'alf told you yet—well, &c., &c.

IN THE RESERVED STALLS.

First Professional Lady, "resting" to Second Ditto (as Miss FLORRIE FOLJAMBE appears on Stage). New dresses, to-night.

Second Ditto. Yes. (Inspects Miss F.'s costume.) Something wrong with that boy's dress in front, though, cut too low. Is that silver bullion it's trimmed with? That silver stuff they put on my pantomime-dress has turned quite yellow!

First Ditto. It will sometimes. Did you know any of the critics when you were down at Slagtown for the Panto?

Second Ditto. I knew the Grimeshire Mercury, and he said most awfully rude things about me in his paper. I was rather rude to him at rehearsal, but we made it up afterwards. You know LILY'S married, dear?

First Ditto. What—LILY? You don't mean it!

Second Ditto. Oh, yes, she is, though. She went out to Buenos Ayres, and the other day she was taken in to dinner by the Bishop of the Friendly Isands.

First Ditto. A Bishop? Fancy! That is getting on, isn't it?

Miss Foljambe (on Stage, acknowledging an encore). Ladies and Gentlemen, I am very much obliged for your kind reception this evening, but having been lately laid up with a bad cold, and almost entirely lost my vice, and being still a little 'orse, I feel compelled to ask your kind acceptance of a few 'ornpipe steps, after which I 'ope to remain, Ladies and Gentlemen, always your obedient 'umble servant to command—FLORRIE FOLIJAMBE!

[Tumultuous applause and hornpipe.

Chairman. Professor BOODLER, the renowned Imitator of Birds, will appear next!

The Professor (on Stage). Ladies and Gentlemen, I shall commence by an attempt to give you an imitation of that popular and favourite songster, the Thrush—better known to some of you, I daresay, as the Throstle, or Mavis! (He gives the Thrush—which somehow doesn't "go.") I shall next endeavour to represent that celebrated and tuneful singing-bird—the Sky-lark. (He does it, but the Lark doesn't quite come off.) I shall next try to give you those two sweet singers, the Male and Female Canary—the gentleman in the stalls with the yellow 'air will represent the female bird on this occasion, he must not be offended, for it is a 'igh compliment I am paying him, a harmless professional joke. (The Canaries obtain but tepid acknowledgments.) I shall now conclude my illustrations of bird-life with my celebrated imitation of a waiter drawing the cork from a bottle of gingerbeer, and drinking it afterwards.

[Does so; rouses the audience to frantic enthusiasm, and retires after triple re-call.

The Voluble Lady in the Shilling Stalls (during the performance of a Thrilling Melodramatic Sketch). I've nothing to say against her 'usban', a quiet, respectable man, and always treated me as a lady, with grey whiskers—but that's neither here nor there—and I speak of parties as I find them—well. That was a Thursday. On the Saturday there came a knock at my door, and I answered it, and there was she, saying, as cool as you please—(Heroine on Stage. "Ah, no, no—you would not ruin me? You will not tell my husband?") So I told her. "I'm very sorry," I says, "but I can't lend that frying-pan to nobody." So I got up. Two hours after, as I was going down-stairs, she come out of her room, and says,—"'Allo, ROSE, 'ow are yer?" as if nothing had 'appened. "Oh, jolly," I says, or somethink o' that sort—I wasn't going to take no notice of her—and she says, "Going out?" like that. I says. "Oh, yes; nothing to stay in for," I says, careless-like; so Mrs. PIPER, she never said nothing, and I didn't say nothing; and so it went on till Monday—well! Her 'usban' met me in the passage; and he said to me—good-tempered and civil enough, I must say—he said—(Villain on Stage. "Curse you! I've had enough of this fooling! Give me money, or I'll twist your neck, and fling you into yonder mill-dam, to drown!") So o' course I'd no objection to that; and all she wanted, in the way of eatables and drink, she 'ad—no, let me finish my story first. Well, just fancy 'er now! She asked me to step in; and she says, "Ow are you?" and was very nice, and I never said a word—not wishing to bring up the past, and—I didn't tell you this—they'd a kind of old easy chair in the room—and the only remark I made, not meaning anythink, was—(Hero on Stage. "You infernal, black-hearted scoundrel! this is your work, is it?") Well, I couldn't ha' put it more pleasant than that, could I? and old Mr. FITKIN, as was settin' on it, he says to me, he says—(Hero. "Courage, my darling! You shall not perish if my strong arms can save you. Heaven help me to rescue the woman I love better than my life!") but he's 'alf silly, so I took no partickler notice of 'im, when, what did that woman do, after stoopin' to me, as she 'as, times without number—but—Oh, is the play over? Well, as I was saying—oh, I'm ready to go if you are, and I can tell you the rest walking home.

[Exit, having thoroughly enjoyed her evening.

To Rose Norreys as "Nora."

Dear ROSE, in your way, you're as brimful of Art

As a picture by REYNOLDS, a statue by GIBSON;

And we'll never cut you, though we don't like your part,

Pretty ROSE, in A Doll's House, as written by IBSEN,

Yet we crowd on your track, as the hounds on the quarry's,

And, though carping at Nora, delight in our NORREYS.

TROUBLE IN TOM TIDDLER'S GROUND.

British Tom Tiddler. "IF THIS GOES ON, HOW ABOUT MY GOLD AND SILVER?"

A DAY IN THE LAW COURTS.

(A page from the Posthumous Diary of the late Mr. Pepys.)

[ MR. PUNCH'S "TABLEAU." SOCIETY IN COURT. ]

Up betimes and to the Court at the New Palace of Justice hard by the Strand, and near the sign of the Griffin which has taken the place of Temple Bar, upon which did stand long ago the heads of traitors. There did I see a crowd high and low trying to get in. But the custodians and the police mighty haughty, but withal courteous, and no one to be admitted without a ticket signed by the Lord Chief Justice. And I thought it was a good job my wife was not with me. She had a great longing to see a sensation action (as the journals have it), and she being of a fiery disposition and not complacent when refused, might have made an uproar, which would have vexed me to the heart. But in truth I found no trouble. It did seem to me that they did not see me as I entered in. And plenty of room and no crowding, at which I was greatly contented, as I love not crushing. Pretty to see the crowd of fine folks! And there were those who had opera-glasses. And when the Bench was occupied by the Lord Chief Justice—a stately gentleman—and the other persons of quality, how they did gaze! And the dresses of the ladies very fine, and did make the place—which was splendid, and they tell me the largest in the building—like a piece at the play-house! And the Counsel, how they did talk! Mighty droll to hear them contradict! One would have it that Black was White; which convinced me I had fallen into error, until another had it that he who had spoken was wrong, and White was Black! Good lack! who shall decide when Counsel differ? and I was mightily content that I was not on the jury, although one of these good people did have the honour of asking a question of His Royal Highness. And it was answered most courteously, at which I was greatly pleased and contented. Then did I hear the witnesses. In a mighty dread that I might be called myself! For that which did seem plain enough when he who was in the box was asked by his Counsel, did appear all wrong when another questioned him. And the Jury, looking wise, and making notes. And it is droll to see how civil everyone is to the Jury, who, methinks, are no cleverer than any of us? The Lord Chief Justice himself smiling upon them, and mighty courteous! And met my friend, A. Briefless, Junior, who it seems, is always in the Courts, and yet doeth no business. And he did say that it was the strongest Bar in England. And he did tell me how Sir Charles was eloquent, and Sir Edward was clever at fence, and how young Master Gill was most promising. And I noticed how one fair Lady, who was seated on the Bench, did seem to arrange everything. And many beauties there, who I did gaze upon with satisfaction. To see them in such gay attire was a pretty sight, and did put my heart in a flutter. And I was pleased when the Court adjourned for luncheon; and it did divert me much to see what appetites they all had! Some had brought sandwiches, and, how they did eat them! But the Lord Chief Justice soon back again, and more witnesses examined until four of the clock, when the day was over. So home, and described to my wife what I had seen, except the damsels.

LEAVES FROM A CANDIDATE'S DIARY.

Billsbury, Sunday, May 25.—CHORKLE'S dinner came off last night. The dinner-hour was seven o'clock. CHORKLE'S house is in The Grove, a sort of avenue of detached houses shaded by trees. The Colonel himself was magnificent. He wore a most elaborately-frilled shirt-front, with three massive jewelled studs. His waistcoat was beautifully embroidered in black with a kind of vine-leaf pattern, the buttons being of silver, with the regimental badge embossed upon them. His handkerchief was a gorgeous one of blue silk. He wore it in his waistcoat, carefully arranged, so as to show all round above the opening. It looked something like the ribbon of some Order at a distance. Mrs. CHORKLE is rather a pleasant woman, with a manner which suggests that she is much trampled on by her domineering husband. How on earth she ever induced herself to marry him I can't make out. The chief guests were Sir CHARLES and Lady PENFOLD. Sir CHARLES'S father was a large Billsbury contractor, who made no end of money, and represented Billsbury in the House a good many years ago. He was eventually made a Baronet for his services to the Party. The present Sir CHARLES doesn't take much interest in politics, occupying himself chiefly in hunting, &c., but they are people of great consideration in Billsbury; in fact Lady PENFOLD is the leader of Society in Billsbury, and not to know them is to argue yourself unknown. Sir CHARLES himself is an Oxford man, and we had a good deal of talk about the old place.

"Yes," he said, "I was at the House more than thirty years ago, and to tell you the truth, it's the only House (with a capital H), that I ever wanted te be in."

The fact of the matter, so JERRAM told me, was that Sir CHARLES did once want to stand for Parliament, but somehow or other the scheme fell through, and since then he's always spoken rather bitterly of the House of Commons. Their daughter, whom I took in to dinner, is a very pretty girl of nineteen, with plenty to say for herself. She told me they were going to be in London for about three weeks in June and July, so I hope to see something of them. Besides the PENFOLDS there were Mr. and Mrs. TOLLAND; Mrs. TOLLAND in a green silk dress with more gold chains wound about various parts of her person than I ever saw on any other woman. Two officers of CHORKLE'S Volunteers were there with their wives, Major WORBOYS, an enormous, red-whiskered man who doesn't think much, privately, of CHORKLE'S ability as a soldier, and Captain YATMAN, a dapper little fellow, whose weakness it is to pretend to know all about smart Society in London.

Altogether there were twenty guests. Precisely at seven o'clock a bugle sounded on the landing outside the drawing-room to announce dinner. Everything in the CHORKLE family is done by bugle-calls. They have reveillé at 7 A.M., the sergeants' call for the servants' dinner, and lights out at eleven o'clock every night. As soon as the call was finished, CHORKLE went up to Lady PENFOLD. "Shall we march, Lady PENFOLD?" he said. "Sir CHARLES will bring up the rear with Mrs. C." And thus we went down-stairs.

The dinner was a most tremendous and wonderful entertainment, and must have lasted two hours, at the very least. There were two soups, three fishes, dozens of entrées, three or four joints—the mere memory of it is indigestive. The talk was almost entirely about local matters, the chief subject of discussion being the Mastership of the Foxhounds. The present Master is not going to keep them on, as he is a very old man, and everybody seems to want Sir CHARLES to take them, but he hangs back. Difficulties about the subscription, I fancy.

In the middle of dinner there was a fiendish row outside. I saw poor Mrs. CHORKLE turn pale, while the Colonel got purple with fury, and upset his champagne as he turned to say something to the butler. Discovered afterwards that the disturbance was caused by two of the young CHORKLES, who had got out of their bedrooms, and were lying in ambush for the dishes. HOBBES LEVIATHAN CHORKLE had carried off a dish of sweetbreads, for which STRAFFORD THOROUGH CHORKLE had expressed a liking. The result was, that HOBBES LEVIATHAN got his head punched by STRAFFORD THOROUGH, who then rubbed his face with sweetbread.

After dinner there was music, but not a whiff of tobacco.

Mother comes to open the Bazaar on Wednesday.

ASSISTED EDUCATION BILL.

MITRED MISERY.

June 6th.—Rather gratifying to find that my service to the Church—I don't mean Church Services—have at length been recognised. Just received intimation of my appointment to Bishopric of Richborough. How wild it will make my dear old friend, Canon STARBOTTLE, to be sure! Well—I must accept it as a call, I suppose!

July.—Had no idea being made a Bishop was such an expensive business. No end of officials connected with Cathedral, all of whom demand their fee. After spending at least £500 in this way, found there was an additional fee of a hundred guineas for "induction into the temporalities." As there are no temporalities nowadays, this is simply extortion. Remarked so to the Dean, who replied (nastily, I think), "Oh, it's for the interest of the Church not to have paupers for Prelates." I retorted at once, rather ably, that "I could not conceive a better plan for bringing Prelates to pauperism than the exaction of extortionate fees at Installation." Dean replied, sneeringly, "Oh, if you don't value the honour, I suppose there's still time for you to resign." Resign, yes; but should I get back my five or six hundred pounds?

Next year.—Strange, how I seem to be singled out for preferment. Am to be "translated," it seems, to diocese of Minchester. Can't very well refuse, but really am only just getting over drain on my purse last year owing to my accepting Bishopric here. And on inquiry, find that fees at Minchester much heavier than anywhere else! Is this really a call? Certainly a call on my pocket. And my family cost such a tremendous lot. And then I've had to do up the Palace, left by my predecessor in a perfectly shocking state of disrepair!

Later.—My worst apprehensions were realised! Fee for Consecration huge! Fee for Installation, monstrous! Fee for Investiture, a perfect swindle! Isn't there a song beginning "Promotion is vexation, Translation is as had?" Translation is worse! Shall really have to consider whether there would be anything unepiscopal in negotiating a little loan, or effecting a mortgage on the Palace.

Year Later.—Have been offered vacant Archbishopric! No, thanks! Late Archbishop almost swamped by the fees, and he was a rich man. I am a poor man—thanks to recent preferments—and can't afford it. An Archbishop in the Bankruptcy Court would not look well. "His Grace attributed his position to expenses connected with the various Installation ceremonies, and offered a composition of one-and-sixpence in the pound, which was unanimously declined by the creditors." When will they do away with gate-money in the Church?

Some savants were the other day puzzling their heads to find a convenient and familiar word for the illumination produced by the electric spark. Surely it is Edisunlight.

"BEROOFEN !"

"Well," quoth the Baron DE BOOK-WORMS, as he sat down to dinner on a Friday, a week ago, "I must say I have never, never been better in my life! Why, dear me, it is quite a year since I was ill!"

"Beroofen!" exclaimed an Italian Countess of dazzling beauty, at the same time rapping the table with one of the bejewelled forks which form part of the Baron's second-best dinner-service.

"Why 'Beroofen'?" asked the Baron.

"It is a spell against the consequences of boasting," the lady explained. "My mother was a bit of a magician."

"And you, my dear Countess, are bewitching. Your health!" And, pledging her, the Baron drank off a bumper of Pommery '80 très sec, and laughed joyously at the notion of his rapping the table—all "table-rapping" being a past superstition, or supperstition when not at dinner,—and murmuring, "Beroofen!" And so he didn't do it. "Beroofen" never passed his lips: the champagne did; but not "Beroofen."

"Ugh I—I feel so shivery-and-livery. Ugh!—so chilly. Here! Send for Dr. ROBSON ROOSTEM PASHA!" cried the Baron, clapping his hands, and a thousand ebon slaves bounded off to execute his commands. Had they not done so, they themselves might have suffered the fate intended for the commands, and have themselves been rapidly executed.

"You've got 'em," quoth Dr. ROBSON ROOSTEM PASHA.

"Not 'again'!" cried the Baron, surprised, never having had 'em before.

"No: the phenomena," said the Eminent Medico.

"Have I?" murmured the Baron, and sank down into his uneasy chair. It was an awful thing to have the Phenomena. It might have been the measles in Greek. Anything but that! Anything but that! But Dr. ROOSTEM explained that "phenomena" is not Greek for measles, though perhaps Phenomenon might be Greek for "one measle;" but this would be singular, very singular.

"I must tap you," continued the friend-in-need. "No—no—don't be alarmed. When I say 'tap,' I mean sound you."

Then he began the woodpecking business. In the character of Dr. Woodpecker he tapped at the hollow oak chest, sounded the Baron's heart of oak, pronounced him true to the core, whacked him, smacked him, insisted upon his calling out "Ninety-nine," in various tones, so that it sounded like a duet to the old words, without much of the tune—

"I'm ninety-nine,

I'm ninety-nine!"

the remainder of which the Baron had never heard, even in his earliest childhood.

So it was a quarter of an hour of inspiration, musical and poetic, and, at its expiration, Dr. MARK TAPLEY, as the Baron declared he must henceforth be called, announced that there was nothing for it but to make the Baron a close prisoner in his own castle, where he would have to live up to the mark, as if he were to be shown, a few months hence, at a prize cattle-show, among other Barons of Beef.

"Champagne Charley is your name, so is Turtle soup, so is succulent food, and plenty of it. Generally provision the fortress, and withstand the assaults of the enemy. If a bacillus creeps in through a loophole, knock him on the head with the best champagne at hand, and, if you're not worse in a day or two, you'll be better in a week! Au revoir!" Exit Dr. MARK TAPLEY.

And so the Baron remained within, and sent for his books, and above all One of Our Conquerors, by "The GEO. M.," who is the CARLYLE of Novelists. The first volume was missing. In a few days it had returned. The first chapters, however, seemed still wandering. But the Baron was better, and could follow them slowly, though not without effort, wondering whither he was being led. When he arrives at Chapter VII., unless the novelist ceases to meander, the Baron will exclaim with Hamlet, "Speak! I'll go no further!" Yet, 'tis marvellous clever and entertaining withal.

Perhaps there will be a vacation after this attack of Miss Influenza on the unfortunate Baron. Alas! for the present, it is La Donna Influenza who is "One of Our Conquerors!"

This morning, after a fortnight of it, the Baron was about to announce that he was better, but at the outset he paused, corrected himself, and, tapping the breakfast-table with his fork, he exclaimed, "Beroofen!"

Moral.—Be quite sure you're out of the wood, though maybe you were never in it, and even then don't congratulate yourself. "Mumm"'s the word (so's "Pommery" also by the way, not forgetting "Greno," all such being excellent Fizzic for the Epidemic), as to your state of health, and don't forget the charm—"Beroofen!"

SUMMER !

(Sketched, in metrical spasms, by a Sufferer therefrom.)

Damp days,
Chill nights;
Morning haze,
Evening blights;
Grey skies,
Sodden earth;

Cramped cricket,
Arctic squall;
Drenched wicket,
Soaked ball;
Park a puddle.
Row a slough;

Eaves dropping,
Red noses;
Pools, splashes,
Spouts, spirts;
Swollen sashes.
Gutters, squirts;

Butterflies
Weak at birth;
Gloom over,
Grime under;
Soaked clover.
Hail, thunder;
Wind, wet,
Squelch, squash;
Gingham yet,
Mackintosh;
Lawns afloat,
Paths dirt;
Top-coat,
Flannel shirt;

Limp curls,
Splashed hose;
Pretty girls,
Damp shows;
Piled grates,
Cold shivers;
Aching pates,
Sluggish livers;
Morn cruel,
Eve a biter;
Hot gruel,
Sweet nitre;
Voice a creaky
Cracked cadenza,
Face "peaky,"
INFLUENZA!!!
Gloom growing,
Glum, glummer
Noses (and nothing else) blowing,—
That's Summer!

Lilacs drenched,
Laburnums pallid;
Spirits quenched,
Souls squalid;
Tennis "off,"
Icy breeze;
Croak, cough,
Wheeze, sneeze;

Muck, muddle,
Slush, snow;
Hay-fever
(No hay!)
Spoilt beaver,
Shoes asplay;
Lilies flopping,
Washed-out roses;

OPERATIC NOTES.

We're quite the gay Frenchmen now at the Italian Opera: Faust in French, Manon in French, Roméo et Juliette in French, Le Prophète in French; American singers, and Dutch singers—for if Mr. VAN DYCK isn't as much a Double Dutchman as VANDERDECKEN or any other Van, except PICKFORD & CO.'s, then am I myself a Dutch native—and, by the way, I'm always equal to a dozen of 'em any time during the right and proper season. Not for many a long day and night has there been a better show at Covent Garden. Miss EAMES, the Brothers DE RESZKÉ, VAN DYCK, MELBA; the two RAVOGLI girls, specially GIULIA, as tuneful contralto; MAUREL, the cultured artist; SIBYL SANDERSON, the simple child of Nature; AGNES JANSON, with more sauce Hollandaise; marvellous MRAVINA for the French Queen, "with a song;" and, above all, Madame ALBANI, in tip-top voice, acting and singing better than ever.

Tuesday.—June 2 was a Diamond Night in front. H.R.H.'s present: Diamond Queens and Princesses of Society all on view. DRURIOLANUS, in his glory, beams on everyone.

Wednesday.—State Ball counter-attraction to Opera. Won't do to go in rumpled silks and satins, and drooping feathers, like hens after the rain, to a Court Ball. So Opera suffers; those present trying to look as if they had been invited to State Ball, but didn't care about going, or couldn't go, on account of recent family affliction. However, as DRURIOLANUS is reported to have appeared in full fig at State Ball, he couldn't expect others less interested in the performance than himself to cut the Court and come to the Opera. To-night, M. PLANCON as Mephistopheles, a thinner demon than Brother NED DE RESZKÉ, but un bon diable tout de même.

Friday Night.—Notable for excellent performance of Rigoletto, or The Little Duke and The Big Duck respectively personified by Signor RAVELLI and GIULIA RAVOGLI. Three "R"s in such a combination. Quite "R's Poetica." Beg pardon.

"Tag" on the week,—if our friends in front are pleased as they appear to be, then DRURIOLANUS and Council—not the County, but the Covent Garden Council—are satisfied. Curtain.

HONEY-MOONING IN ITALY.

Fair American Bride. "OH, JOHN! TO THINK THAT PERHAPS VIRGINIUS STABBED HIS DAUGHTER ON THIS VERY SPOT, AND THAT JUST OVER THERE TELLIA DROVE OVER HER POOR FATHER'S DEAD BODY!"

John. "AH—VERY SAD—VERY SAD, INDEED! BUT, SAY, MATILDA, I GUESS WE'D BETTER LET BYGONES BE BYGONES. AND NOW LET'S GO AND HAVE A LOOK AT THE NEW POST-OFFICE."

THE ALARMED AUTOCRAT !

"The Czar declared that he was determined to continue resolutely to the end the policy upon which he had entered, with a view to the solution of the Jewish difficulty, adding that it was the Jews themselves who had forced that policy upon him by their conduct.... 'Down to the present time' (His Majesty remarked), 'there has never been a single Nihilistic plot, in which Jews have not been concerned.'"—The Times' Correspondent at Moscow.

The Great White CZAR he has put down his foot;

On the neck of the Hebrew that foot he will plant.

Can fear strike a CÆSAR—a Russian to boot?

Can a ROMANOFF stoop to mere cowardly cant?

Forbid it traditions of Muscovite pride!

An Autocrat's place is the Conqueror's car,

But he who that chariot in triumph would ride,

Must not earn a name as the White-livered CZAR!

No, no, scurril scribe, dip your pen in rose-pink,

Or the Censor's black blurr shall your slander efface

A CÆSAR turn sophist, an Autocrat shrink?

Pusillanimous spite mark the ROMANOFF race?

Too wholly absurd! What is this we have heard

Which on courtier spirits must painfully jar?

Who is he, this mal à propos "little bird"

Who twitters such tales of the White-livered CZAR?

The Wolf and the Lamb? We all know that old tale.

But the Wolf, though a tyrant, was scarcely a cur.

He bullied and lied, but he didn't turn pale,

Or need poltroon terror as cruelty's spur.

But a big, irresponsible, "fatherly" Prince

Afeared—of a Jew? 'Tis too funny by far!

The coldest of King-scorning cynics might wince

At that comic conception, a White-livered CZAR!

No; Russia is heaven, the CZAR is a saint,

And the poor "Ebrew Jew" is a troublesome pest;

But is he the thing to make CÆSAR go faint,

Or disturb an Imperial Autocrat's rest?

The Jew's all to blame—as a matter of course;

The weak and the weary invariably are;

But weakness on power harsh tyranny force?

That's an argument worthy a White-livered CZAR.

An Israelite meshed in a 'Nihilist plot

Is a pitiful picture. Ungrateful indeed

Is the poor Russian Jew, not content with his lot—

As a slave to the Slav. But expel the whole breed?

Apply that same rule to your subjects all round,

And one fancies you'll find it too sweeping by far.

The vast realm of Muscovy then might be found

A wilderness—save for the White-livered CZAR.

The pick of your people, the best of your blood,

Your purest of women, your bravest of men,

O CZAR, have they not, in despair's dusky mood,

Turned Nihilist, plotted, been banished? What then?

Best banish them all, as you'd banish the Jew;

'Twill sweep your dominions more clear than red war.

Picture Russia a waste with one resident—you,

Perched high—and alone—as the White-livered CZAR!

Maybe they malign you. It cannot be sooth

That you talk like an angry illogical girl.

Yes, banish the Hebrews, as wholly as ruth.

Be cold in your wrath as the Neva's chill swirl,

Snub friendly remonstrance, blunt satire's keen blade.

With a blot of black ink! Will it carry you far?

A CÆSAR must not be a fool or afraid;

There's no place in earth's round for a White-livered CZAR!

SAD FINISH.—We see advertised, "George Meredith, A Study. By HANNAH LYNCH." Poor GEORGE! "Taken from life," of course. There's an end of him! Lynch'd!

THE ALARMED AUTOCRAT !

CZAR OF ALL THE RUSSIAS. "TAKE HIM AWAY!—TAKE HIM AWAY! HE FRIGHTENS ME!"

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

Messrs. R. Osgood & Co. in advertising Miss SARAH ORME JEWETT'S book, Strangers and Wayfarers, quotes an extract from one of Mr. RUSSEL LOWELL'S letters, which runs thus:—

"I remember once at a dinner of the Royal Academy, wishing there might be a toast in honour of the Little Masters, such as TENNIEL, DU MAURIER, and their fellows."

He "wished" it, but was the wish a silent one, or did it find expression in a speech? No matter: there are the Old Masters and the Young Masters, there are the Middle-Aged Masters; there are the Great Masters; and, according to Mr. RUSSELL LOWELL, there are "the Little Masters," without any middle term at all. "The Little Masters," like children in the nursery of Art, not admitted to dinner, but who come in afterwards for dessert. May they come in for their just deserts, as no doubt they will some day. Well, according to this Lowelly estimation of merit, these would be the Lesser Masters, and after them the No Masters at all, except perhaps the Toast-Masters. But why not follow a kind of public school classification which divides one form—of course all the artists belong to the very best form, and, like Sir FREDERICK the President, show the very best form—into several compartments, so that we should have in one form say, the Fifth, Upper Fifth, Middle Fifth, subdivided into Upper and Lower Middle, then Lower Fifth, with a similar subdivision? Orders of merit to be worn in the button-hole could then be distributed, and a new Order of the "B.P.", not "British Public," but "Brush and Pencil," could be instituted, to be entitled fully, "The Masters of the Black and White Art."

"(STAN)-HOPE TOLD A FLATTERING TALE."

Mr. Punch (to War Secretary). "VERY WELL ON ACCOUNT; BUT WHEN IS HE TO HAVE HIS REWARD IN FULL, LIKE HIS BROTHERS OF THE COMBATANT BRANCH?"

In the Fortnightly, besides an article on the prevailing epidemic, by Sir MORRELL MACKENZIE, M.D., which finishes with much the sort of general advice that was given by Mr. Justice Starleigh to Sam Weller, to the effect that "You had better be careful, Sir," whoever you are, who read this short, but generally interesting paper. There is an anonymous paper on an imaginary election at the Royal Academy, noticeable only for an excellent imitation of Mr. GEORGE MEREDITH'S style. The Novelist is supposed to look in casually, and, finding an election imminent, he offers sage words of counsel, and then begs to be allowed to "float out of their orbit by a bowshot." It seems to me that the paper was written for the sake of this one short paragraph, which, as a close parody, is inimitable. A Modern Idyll, by the Editor, Mr. FRANK HARRIS, is, as far as this deponent is concerned, like the Rule of Three in the ancient Nursery Rhyme, for it "bothers me," and, though written with considerable dramatic power, yet it seems rather the foundation for a novel which the Author felt either disinclined to continue, or unable to finish. ALTER HEGO (in the Office of the B. de B.-W.)

THE TYRANTS OF THE STRAND !

(Fragment from a Romance, Founded upon a Modern Strike.)

It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled, the rain pelted, and the poor travellers were drenched to the skin. They shaded their eyes, and peered forth into the blackness to see if succour was at hand. Their strength was exhausted, and they felt they could go no further. Oh! what would they not have given to be once more on board the tight little craft they had abandoned! But no! it was not to be. They must seek for help from another quarter! Suddenly there emerged from the darkness a strange-looking structure, that with its lights seemed bent upon running them down. They signalled for help, and the grotesque vessel was hove to.

"What do you want?" asked a gruff voice, to their great delight, in English. "What are you a haling us for?"

"We are shipwrecked travellers," explained the spokesman of the party; "and we ask for conveyance to a place of safety."

"A place of safety—sounds like a cab-stand," muttered the other. "Well, jump in." Thus invited, the shipwrecked travellers entered what seemed to them to be a welcome harbour of refuge. But they had not proceeded far when the man who had already spoken to them again addressed them.

"Come—all of you—turn out—but first pay me," and then he mentioned a considerable sum of money.

"Have you no mercy?" cried a fair-haired girl, pointing to the white and rain-drenched locks of her ancient parents.

"Not a bit, Miss," returned the semi-savage, with a hideous grin.

"And who are you, rude man?" she asked, plucking up in her very despair some spirit. "Are you the Captain?"

"Much the same thing—I am called the Conductor."

"And what is the name of this dreadful conveyance?" again questioned the damsel, with a shuddering glance at what seemed to be a straw-strewn cabin.

"It is called," replied the man, defiantly, "the Pirate Bus!" On hearing this, the entire party uttered a despairing cry, and fainted!

THE TRAVELLER'S FRIEND.

(A Hint for the coming Holidays.)

DEAR MR. PUNCH,—As we are within measurable distance of the time when everyone will be thinking of going abroad, perhaps you will allow me to make a practical suggestion. No doubt you will have observed that, according to the Correspondent of the Times, recounting the "recent railway outrage in Turkey," the Brigands "chose five of the most opulent-looking of their victims, and told them that they meant to hold them to ransom." I am not surprised at this occurrence, for something of the same sort once happened to me. I am very well to do, and I am fond of what I believe is vulgarly called "globe-trotting." I do not care to be encumbered with too much luggage, and if there is a thorn to the rose of my sweet content it is the objection that my wife makes to my personal appearance. She will have it that a suit of thoroughly comfortable dittos is not the proper garb for a stroll on the Boulevards des Italiens, or a lounge on the Piazza San Marco. As for my wide-awake, she declares (and I can assure you that I have not had it for more than ten years) it is absolutely disgraceful!

But to my story. I have said that I myself was once attacked by Brigands. Our train was stopped in strictly regulation fashion. I believe the customary number of engine-drivers, stokers, and guards were shot, or otherwise accounted for. Then the passengers were inspected. I was rather nervous, for, truth to tell, my pockets were lined with untold gold and notes. The Chief of the Brigands—a most gentlemanly person—glanced at my coat with a slight shudder of pain, and then raised his eyes to my head-gear. That seemed to satisfy him. "Set him free!" he cried to the two ruffians who guarded me, "and never let him see me again!" I never did!

Yours sincerely,

ONE WHO WAS SAVED BY HIS HAT,

The Retreat, Old Closeborough.

A POLITICAL MILITARY TOURNAMENT.

THE BUSMEN'S ALPHABET.

A is the Ache which the Drivers delay.

B is the Bus, which they're chained to all day.

C 's the poor Cad who is sick of his trade.

D is the Dividend that must be paid.

E 's the day's End, which finds him dead-beat.

F is the Food he has no time to eat.

G is his Good, for which nobody cares.

H is the Horse who so much better fares.

I 's the Increase in his pay that he waits,

J 's the fine Jump he'll soon take with his mates.

K is the Knife-board, which funds should provide.

L are the Ladies, who now go outside.

M is the Money that's earned every day.

N the New lines, that they start, and make pay.

O Opposition, they speedily chase.

P is the Public that fills every place.

Q is the Question, that hints at Reform.

R the Reply, that soon raises a storm.

S the Shareholder, blind in his greed.

T is the Tension which he'd better heed.

U 's the Upset he won't certainly like.

V 's the Vigorous Vengeance of strike.

W Wisdom that comes somewhat late.

X Express Action which may avert Fate!

Y, Yell triumphal, the men win the day.

Z—"Zounds!" which is all Directors can say.

BENDIGO.

[A Monument to BENDIGO, the famous prize-fighter, has been lately erected at Nottingham.]

Old Prize-fighter soliloquises:—

If ever to the "Pelican" alone or with a friend I go,

I sigh for men of muscle who could fight a fight like BENDIGO.

He didn't fight in feather-beds, or spend his days in chattering,

But faced his man, and battered him, or took his foeman's battering.

He didn't deal in gas, or waste his time in mere retort at all;

But now the "pugs" are interviewed, and journalists report it all.

A man may call it what he will, brutality or bravery,

I'd rather have the prize-ring back than give a purse to knavery.

Knaves fight for points, the audience shouts and wrangles in allotting 'em;

I hate their fancy-work, I'm off to take the train to Nottingham.

I like a Man; though modern men and modern manners mend, I go

To drop a last regretful tear o'er poor departed BENDIGO.

GENTLE SARCASM.

"YESSIR; I GITS 'OME FROM MY LAST JOURNEY AT MIDNIGHT,—AN' THEN I 'AS THE REST OF THE HEVENIN' TO MYSELF!"

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

House of Commons, Monday, June 1.—House of Commons, as usual at this time of Session, driven against wall in its struggles with appointed work. With brief recesses, been at work since November last. One thing everyone insists on is that Prorogation shall take place at end of July. Difficult to see how even by most masterly management that can be accomplished. Apart from Education Bill, enough work in hand, if Supply be fairly dealt with, to carry us on to last week in July. Every moment precious; every quarter of an hour lost an irretrievable misfortune.

Accordingly, to-day, meeting in the freshness and vigour of new week, House takes up a local Bill dealing with pilotage in Bristol Channel. Two or three Members talk about it for hour and a half. House neither knowing nor caring anything on subject, empties; Division bell sounds through all the rooms and corridors. How is a man to vote when the question abruptly submitted is, "That the Pilotage Provisional Orders No. 1 Bill be now read a Second Time?" Still, it's as well to vote, as it runs up average attendance on Divisions, at which at election times constituents sometimes glance. Fortunately, in this case, MICHAEL BEACH, as one of Members for Bristol, took part in Debate and Division. As useful this as sign-post to belated traveller at four cross-roads. Conservatives and Liberals crowded at Bar keep their eye on President of Board of Trade, watching which way he would go. He led the way into the "Aye" lobby. Thither followed him all the Conservatives, all the Liberals trooping into the "No" lobby. When Noses were counted, it was found that 165 voted "Aye," 119 "No." And thus it came to pass that the Pilotage Provisional Order No. 1 Bill was read a Second Time.

One gathered from chance expressions, and especially from the interest taken in the affair by Members for City of Bristol, that Bristol had special interest in the Bill. In addition to MICHAEL BEACH'S support, WESTON on Liberal side, HILL on Conservative Benches, supported Second Reading. Sinking political differences, Member for East Bristol, and Member for South Bristol, agreed upon plan of campaign.

"You, WESTON," said Colonel HILL who, having obtained his military rank in the peaceful pursuits of commercial shipping, is a master of strategy, "speak so low that they can't hear a word you say, whilst I, concealing a miniature speaking-trumpet in my mouth, will roar at them as if a stout North-Easter were blowing through the lanyards of our first battalion, deployed in open order."

Tactics succeeded admirably. Sir JOSEPH WESTON, a mild, aldermanic person, presented himself from quarter behind Front Opposition Bench, and, to all appearances, delivered an admirable address. His lips moved, his right hand marked the rhythm of his ordered speech; now his eyes flashed in reprobation, and anon smiled approval. But not a sound, save a soft murmur, as of distant dripping waterfall, was heard. L'Enfant Prodigue wasn't in it for successful pantomime.

When the movement stopped, and the Alderman was discovered to be sitting down, the martial-nautical HILL sprang up from Bench on other side, and the stillness was broken by a rasping voice, that woke DICKY TEMPLE out of his early slumber. The strategy, cleverly conceived, was admirably carried out, and Bristol, thanks to diversified talent of its Members, got its Bill. Only it seemed a pity that an hour and a half of precious public time should incidentally have been appropriated.

Business done.—Irish Land Bill in report stage.

Tuesday.—House of Lords the scene of a thrilling performance to-night. Usually meets for business at half-past four. On Tuesdays, in order to give Noble Lords opportunity for preparing for exhaustive labours, public business does not commence till half-past five.

Punctually at that hour, a solitary pedestrian might have been observed walking up the floor of the historic Chamber. A flowing gown hid, without entirely concealing, his graceful figure; a full-bottomed wig crowned his stately head, as the everlasting snows veil the lofty heights of the Himalayas. He looked neither to the right hand nor to the left, but with swinging stride strode forward. At the end of the Chamber stood the Throne of England, on which, in days gone by, HARCOURT'S Plantagenet fathers sat, and in which some day—who knows?—the portly frame of him who now proudly bears the humble title, SQUIRE OF MALWOOD, may recline.

But that is another story. The gowned-and-wigged figure observed walking up the floor of the House of Lords at half-past five on a June evening, was not making for the Throne. Before that piece of furniture stood a bench, in appearance something like the familiar ottoman of the suburban drawing-room. It was the Woolsack, and the svelte figure, swinging towards it with the easy stride of superlative grace and comparative youth, was the LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR! Before him, at respectful distance, went his Purse-bearer, ready to produce the wherewithal should his Lordship desire a pick-me-up by the way. Behind him came the Mace-bearer, and, a foot further in the rear, Black Rod.

"Accommodated with a Seat."

Odsfakins! a stately procession, which ought to have been set in the centre of an admiring multitude. But the LORD CHANCELLOR'S springy footfall echoed through an almost empty chamber. DENMAN was faithful at his post, ready to move that some Bill be read a Second Time on that day nine months. Here and there, on widely severed benches, perched a Peer, whilst from the Gallery, where he had been accommodated with a seat, the smiling mobile face of Mr. Justice DAY peered forth. He had just looked in on his way home from the Courts, interested in a scene where some day he may take his place as Brother BRAMWELL and Brother COLERIDGE have done.

The keen eyes of the great LORD CHANCELLOR flashed round the chilling scene. Clerk at the table mumbled something about Provisional Orders.

"Those that are of that opinion say 'Content,'" observed the LORD CHANCELLOR. "Contrary, 'Not Content;' the Contents have it. This House will now adjourn."

Then uprose the LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR, and with the same stately swinging step, moved towards the doorway, with the Purse-bearer, the Mace-bearer, and Black Rod in his train. It was twenty-five minutes to Six; full five minutes had elapsed since the House of Lords met. Now House of Lords had adjourned, and the throbbing pulses of an Empire on which the sun never sets beat with steadier motion, knowing that all was well. Business done.—House of Lords adjourned.

Thursday.—Rather a painful scene just now between PRINCE ARTHUR and the SQUIRE of MALWOOD. T.W. RUSSELL proposed new Clause on Irish Land Bill, which provided for reïnstatement of evicted tenants; received with general applause, and finally agreed to. In the midst of general congratulations and shaking hands, the SQUIRE lounged in, and with many back-handed slaps at the Government, added his approval to the general chorus. The Ministry were hopelessly bad, but this clause, though proposed by a supporter of theirs, was moderately good.

Balfour, Q.C.

"Singular thing," said Prince ARTHUR, in meditative tone, as if he were talking to himself, "that the Right Hon. Gentleman can never interfere in debate, however far removed the subject may be from the arena of Party Politics, without forthwith dragging it into the arena."

"That," said BALFOUR, Q.C., who chanced to be on the Front Opposition Bench, "is a striking example of the misapprehension under which acute minds occasionally labour. I have known my Right Hon. friend for many years; we have sat on this Bench together in Opposition, and have worked in the same Ministry, and I confess it is a little shocking to me to hear him accused of tendency to enter upon controversial topics. I am myself a man of peace, and do not readily assume an attitude of reproof; but, as Mr. HENRY ARTHUR WILSON said when he stood over the improvised Baccarat-table with a piece of chalk in his hand, the line must be drawn somewhere, and I am inclined to rule it at the place where my friend HARCOURT is accused of wilfully and designedly disturbing the Parliamentary peace." Business done.—Still on the Land Bill.

Friday Night.—Still grinding away at the report stage of Land Bill; don't get any forrader; been at it a week, and to-night just as many Amendments on the paper as there were on Monday. All night upon a single new Clause. Everybody wearied to death. Even WINDBAG SEXTON a little moody; not had such a good night as usual; the debate lasting throughout sitting, and, there being only one Motion before the House, SEXTON (with the SPEAKER in the Chair) could speak only once; that he did, at considerable length. But a poor consolation for lost opportunity.

Congratulated the suffering SPEAKER on this accident; pointed out to him things were bad enough; but might be worse.

"I suppose, TOBY," he said, "you never read PRIOR? Haven't looked him up for many years; but, sitting here through this week, there is one couplet—from his Solomon, I think—ever running through my mind:—

'ABRA was ready ere I called her name;

And, though I call'd another, ABRA came.'

Just like SEXTON."

Business done.—One Clause added to Land Bill.

"GREY APES OF AGE."

"Grey hair is fashionable for the youthful,"

Says a Mode oracle acknowledged truthful.

Strange that Society should have a rage

For that anomaly—artificial Age!

Dust on their heads our pretty women toss,

Just to deprive it of its pristine gloss.

Make ashen-white your eyebrows, there, and lashes,

Precocious hags! The world's but dust and ashes.

Wrinkles and crowsfeet next must have their turn

(To limn them in let toilette artists learn),

Then make each belle bald, scraggy-necked and toothless,

Grey hair alone won't make Society youthless.

Let belles turn beldams if they find it jolly.

But they might be consistent in their folly!

MUSICAL, THEATRICAL, AND JUDICIAL.—The Daily Telegraph, quoting from the Middlesex County Times, last Saturday, stated that, "The LORD CHANCELLOR had added the name of Mr. W.S. GILBERT, Poet and Dramatist, to the Commission of the Peace for the County of Middlesex." So is it said that another "W.S.," one WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE—who, by the way, also had a GILBERT in the family—was, in his latter years, made a J.P." Mr. WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE GILBERT—if he will kindly allow us so to style him, as uniting the qualities of poet and dramatist—should receive a special and peculiar title. Let him, then, be henceforth known as "The Poetic Justice of the Piece."

THE "HIRED PRIEST."

[Mr. GLADSTONE says, "If the priest is to live, he must beg, earn, or steal."]

Now, here's a needy Vicar; who will hire him? He can preach,

Can confute a boat of infidels and crush them with a text.

If a Sunday school is started, he's the very man to teach,

If you snub him he may hate it, but he'll never show he's vexed.

He can spend his days in visiting the alleys and the slums,

And support his own existence, and his family's, on crumbs.

Come, come, Sir, you are generous. What! eighty pounds a year?

It's a fortune for a Vicar; I am sure he won't refuse.

Why it's sixteen hundred shillings, he will take it, never fear;

For though priests are scarcely beggars, yet they can't afford to choose.

He hasn't got a single vice; I'll guarantee him sound,

And he'll make a crown go farther than an ordinary pound.

And here we have a Bishop; we don't do things by halves;

He requires a roomy palace, he is sturdy, stout and tall.

You can have him as he stands, Sir, with his gaiters and his calves;

Five thousand hires the Bishop, apron, appetite and all.

What? You much prefer the Vicar with his collar and his tie?

And you'd rather pay him extra? Here's your health. Sir; so would I.

NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI, VOLUME 100, JUNE 13, 1891 ***

Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed.

Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.

START: FULL LICENSE

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at www.gutenberg.org/license.

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works

1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the United States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any country other than the United States.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg™ License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website (www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided that:

- • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”

- • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ works.

- • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of receipt of the work.

- • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™

Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.

Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit 501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws.

The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate.

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate.

Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works

Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.

Most people start at our website which has the main PG search facility: www.gutenberg.org.

This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.

back

back

back

back

back

back

back

back

back

back

back

back

Table of Contents

- PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

- Vol. 100.

- June 13, 1891.

- VOCES POPULI.

- AT A MUSIC HALL.

- To Rose Norreys as "Nora."

- TROUBLE IN TOM TIDDLER'S GROUND.

- A DAY IN THE LAW COURTS.

- (A page from the Posthumous Diary of the late Mr. Pepys.)

- [ MR. PUNCH'S "TABLEAU." SOCIETY IN COURT. ]

- LEAVES FROM A CANDIDATE'S DIARY.

- ASSISTED EDUCATION BILL.

- MITRED MISERY.

- "BEROOFEN !"

- SUMMER !

- OPERATIC NOTES.

- HONEY-MOONING IN ITALY.

- THE ALARMED AUTOCRAT !

- THE ALARMED AUTOCRAT !

- OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

- "(STAN)-HOPE TOLD A FLATTERING TALE."

- THE TYRANTS OF THE STRAND !

- THE TRAVELLER'S FRIEND.

- A POLITICAL MILITARY TOURNAMENT.

- THE BUSMEN'S ALPHABET.

- BENDIGO.

- GENTLE SARCASM.

- ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

- "GREY APES OF AGE."

- THE "HIRED PRIEST."

- THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE