Produced by Punch, or the London Charivari, Malcolm Farmer,
Ernest Schaal, and the Online Distributed Proofreading
Team at http://www.pgdp.net









PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 62.
JANUARY 13, 1872.


[Illustration: A STRAIGHTFORWARD VIEW.

_High Church Curate._ "AND WHAT DO YOU THINK, MR. SIMPSON, ABOUT A
CLERGYMAN'S TURNING TO THE EAST?"

_Literal Churchwarden._ "WELL, SIR, MY OPINION IS, THAT IF THE CLERGYMAN
IS GOODLOOKIN', HE DON'T WANT TO TURN HIS BACK TO THE CONGREGATION!"]

                               * * * * *

                          POKES IN PANTOMIMES.

_NON omnia possumus omnes_; we are not all Popes, nor should we be
omnipotent even if we were infallible. The _Daily News_ is a journal of
ability; but there is a certain inconsistency, the cause of which it
declares itself unable to fathom:--

    "That all personal allusions to the private lives of individuals
    should be eschewed on the stage, we readily admit. Indeed, we
    sympathise with DR. JOHNSON, who, on hearing that FOOTE, the
    actor, intended to imitate his mien and gestures, inquired the
    price of a good thick stick; but why, in the name of common
    sense, when caricatures of MR. GLADSTONE and MR. LOWE weekly
    appear in humorous journals, and when scarcely a day passes
    without these gentlemen being attacked in print on account of
    one or other of their public acts, every harmless joke upon
    their official doings should be expunged from the pantomimes,
    surpasses comprehension."

Our excellent contemporary forgets that there is in theatres a place
called the Gallery. This place is occupied by a peculiar description of
audience and spectators. In the theatre, by physical position, they
constitute the higher orders, but in common talk are contrariwise named.
Of old, bloated aristocrats were wont ironically to style them "the
Gods." Enlightened Statesmen, however, with a just appreciation of their
value as British voters, use to call them the People. Now the People of
the Gallery are not accustomed to read humorous journals in which
caricatures of the People's WILLIAM, and the People's ROBERT, appear
weekly. If they were, it would be necessary for the humorous journals to
be very careful in caricaturing those popular Ministers, lest
caricatures should endanger their popularity. The People of the Gallery
are our flesh and blood, but they are as yet uneducated, and apt to take
jokes too seriously. If the _Clown_ in a Pantomime were to tread upon a
match-box, and get blown up sky-high, or if, assisted by the
_Pantaloon_, he presented a working man in an arsenal with a sack, these
performances, to the occupants of the boxes indeed, would be harmless
jokes, but the effect produced by them in the electoral way would
probably be mischievous, in a gallery filled with friends and relations
of match-venders and dockyard labourers.

                               * * * * *

                           =The Best Tonic.=

THE Doctors disapprove of alcohol, but they are as alive as ever to the
cheering effect of "good spirits" on their patients.

                               * * * * *

                         PROBABLE INTELLIGENCE.

THE CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER, being thoroughly convinced of the
injustice of the Income-tax, is maturing a measure for its total
abolition. To prove that he is perfectly sincere in the task he
undertakes, he has resolved to throw up office if the tax again be
voted.

MR. AYRTON is engaged in studying the Fine Arts, with a view to being
able to lecture LORD ELCHO and others on the subject, and also to defend
the action of the Government in resisting all attempts to improve the
National Gallery.

In the fear lest His Holiness be forced to quit the Vatican, MR.
WHALLEY, M.P., has written, very generously, to offer his own residence
as an asylum for the POPE, while exiled from his kingdom.

It is proposed, at the conclusion of the Tichborne trial, to treat the
Judge and Jury to a trip upon the Continent, in order to prevent them
from becoming monomaniacs, through having their minds occupied so long
with one subject.

It is considered almost certain that M. THIERS will seize a very early
opportunity to vacate his seat, as President, in favour either of the
COMTE DE PARIS or of M. GAMBETTA.

The game slaughtered at the _battues_ of eleven noble sportsmen (all
members of the Legislature), has been carefully distributed among the
East-End poor.

It has been ascertained, by an accurate survey in London and the
provinces, that no fewer than one pantomime has been produced this
season, without containing any humorous allusion to "the Claimant."

MR. GLADSTONE has received one hundred and twelve letters, from
Peterborough, Hanwell, Colney Hatch, and other places, asking for a
confirmation of the rumour that his great-great-grandmother embraced the
Jewish faith.

More than a hundred noble members of the Gun Club have withdrawn their
names this season, and have transferred their subscriptions to the
Humane Society.

Among the measures likely to be introduced by Government are: (1) a Bill
for the Reduction of the Prices charged by Butchers; (2) a Bill to
Compel Londoners to Clean their Streets in Dirty Weather; and (3) a Bill
to Disafforest Primrose Hill and the Brighton Cliffs and Racecourse.

The First Lord of the Admiralty has been taking a few lessons in
political navigation, with the view, upon emergency, of taking chief
command of the vessel of the State.

It is considered highly probable that, following the good example of
some Dramatic Managers, certain Barristers and Doctors in the very
highest practice intend to decorate their waiting-rooms with little
placards of "NO FEES!"

                               * * * * *

                              JUST A HINT.

IS there not a bit of SYDNEY SMITH'S, wherein that divine, describing a
Scottish rising against English tyranny, says that SAWNEY betook himself
to the heather, and, having scratched himself with one hand, and cast up
an account with the other, suddenly waxed furious, and drew his sword?
We hope that certain Transatlantic friends of ours will not bring in so
tremendous a bill against us, as to make it cheaper for us to fight than
to pay. For we love them very much, but we are obliged to be awfully
economical in these Gladstonian days.

                               * * * * *

                      =Mathematical Intelligence.=

IT would puzzle a Senior Wrangler to find out how to square a circle.
Yet TOMKINS Junior says that, though he is only twelve years old, he
will back himself on any given morning to get round a square.

                               * * * * *

[Illustration: ----"WE ARE SUCH STUFF AS DREAMS ARE MADE OF----"
_Tempest._]

                               * * * * *

                         =EVENINGS FROM HOME.=

THE next place of Amusement to which MR. BARLOW took his two young
pupils was the STRAND THEATRE. Here they saw _Arion, or the Story of a
Lyre_, and were highly diverted with the two Showmen, played by MESSRS.
PAULTON and TERRY, whose duet of "_Walk Up and See my Show_," they so
vehemently applauded as to draw forth a reproof from their worthy
preceptor, who, however, on observing that these comedians seemed to be
possessed of an inexhaustible stock of fresh verses applicable to the
circumstances of the times, was induced to join TOMMY and HARRY in the
commendations which were most liberally bestowed by the audience upon
this portion of the performance. On returning to their lodgings both
TOMMY and HARRY, neither of whom had up to this time ever evinced any
musical capacity, attempted to recall the pleasing airs they had heard
at the Strand Theatre, and only ceased from their praiseworthy
endeavours on receiving MR. BARLOW'S promise that he would take them
again to witness the same piece, if TOMMY (whose father, being a very
wealthy man, had recently bestowed upon his son a handsome Christmas
gratuity) would pay for three stalls, or at least three places, in the
Dress Circle.

                                 * * *

On the following night they went to the PRINCESS'S, to see MR. WATTS
PHILLIPS'S play of _On the Jury_, followed by a Pantomime called _Little
Dicky Dilver_.

At the entrance to the Stalls a civil person relieved them of their
overcoats and hats; and TOMMY, upon whom his tutor's example, on the
occasion of their visit to Drury Lane, had not been lost, expressed his
gratitude to the honest stranger in the most affectionate manner.

TOMMY now discovered a further opportunity of making himself acquainted
with the science of Astronomy, which he had already set himself
diligently to learn.

_Mr. Barlow._ At this theatre you will behold a constellation of talent.

_Tommy._ But pray, Sir, what is a "constellation"?

"Persons," answered MR. BARLOW, "have observed certain stars remarkable
either for their brightness or position, or both. These stars, joined
together, are termed 'constellations.' Here you have three Stars--MR.
WEBSTER, MR. PHELPS, and MISS FURTADO."

_Tommy._ Then these are, as you say, Sir, "remarkable for their
brightness or position."

_Mr. Barlow._ Yes. And in time, no doubt, I shall be able to make you
acquainted with the names and the appearance of all the Stars in London.

_Tommy._ Sir, I am much obliged to you, indeed. But of what use is it to
know the Stars?

_Mr. Barlow._ There are some, and those very important, uses to be
derived from an acquaintance with the Stars. HARRY, do you tell MASTER
MERTON the story of _The Free Admission and the Grateful Turk_.

HARRY was commencing the story when the curtain, being drawn up,
disclosed to them the First Scene of _On the Jury_.

_Mr. Barlow._ This would indeed be a very good piece, but for faulty
construction. Yet, for epigrammatic dialogue and dramatic situations, it
has not, at this present moment, its equal in town. You have been
silent, TOMMY, for some time.

_Tommy._ Indeed, Sir, I never was more surprised or diverted; and as for
one of your Stars, MISS FURTADO,--Dear Heart! I protest I could watch
her every evening with the greatest delight.

MR. BARLOW, observing his pupil's excitement, laughed at TOMMY in his
usual good-natured manner, and pointed out to him the example of the
poor Greenlanders as worthy of his imitation.

"What is that, Sir?" inquired TOMMY.

"They are brought up to so much moderation and self-command," said MR.
BARLOW, "that they never give way to the sudden impulses of passion so
common among Europeans. And see, you have split your new white kid
gloves in applauding this young lady." Then turning to HARRY, he asked
him if he had not been touched by the acting of MR. WEBSTER in this
piece.

_Harry._ Indeed, Sir, I pitied him from my heart. _Mr. Tibbetts_ was a
hardly-used gentleman. And I think that no one could have played more
admirably than the gentleman who took the part of _Dexter Sanderson,
Esq._

_Mr. Barlow._ You mean MR. PHELPS, and you are right. It is indeed a
fine piece of acting. There is so much breadth, and yet such a thorough
finish, in this performance, that it would be worth the while of many of
our younger actors (who flatter themselves on their consummate art, in
consequence of having been unduly praised for their few achievements) to
come here and take a lesson from MR. PHELPS.

MR. BARLOW added that it was a pity so excellent a piece should be
wellnigh spoiled by the introduction of a vulgar Sensation Scene, and
its construction marred by the awkward contrivance in the last Act. He
further complained that it should be thought necessary to commence it at
seven, and to supplement such an attraction, as this ought to be, with a
Pantomime.

TOMMY and HARRY were not, however, of his mind upon this point, and
insisted upon stopping to see the _Clown_. They were somewhat
disappointed with the Pantomime, but professed themselves prodigiously
delighted with MR. LLOYD'S scenery.

On coming out, an obliging official handed to them their overcoats,
wrappers, and hats. TOMMY'S little heart was much affected by this
kindly attention; so, pulling out his purse, he poured its contents
(four bright new farthings and three peppermint lozenges) into the
honest fellow's hand, saying, "Here, my good man, take this, and Heaven
bless you!" It is impossible to express the surprise of the poor man at
the sight. He stared wildly round him, and would have fallen but for the
tender support of his assistant, who imagined that his companion had
lost his senses. But the man cried out, "O, WILLIAM, I am not mad! See
what Providence has sent us by the hands of this little angel!" Saying
this, he held up the money and the lozenges. But TOMMY went up to them
both, and said, "My good friends, you are very welcome to this: I freely
give it to you. Spend the money soberly; and, for the lozenges, give
them to your children, if you have any, or suck them yourselves in your
leisure moments." Before the entranced officials, who were totally
unaccustomed to receive such benefactions, could dry their tears, TOMMY
was out of sight, having followed MR. BARLOW and HARRY to the door.

                                 * * *

MR. BARLOW now took MASTER TOMMY and HARRY to EVANS'S Supper Rooms, to
enter which place they had to pay a shilling apiece. This troubled their
worthy preceptor, who, indeed, was painfully struck, as he informed his
young friends, by the altered aspect of the interior. MR. BARLOW
explained to them that in _his_ time the room was snug, cosy, and
comfortable, and only one quarter of its present size. That _then_ there
were neither carpet nor tavern-like mirrors. "True," said MR. BARLOW,
"that all that was objectionable in the entertainment of former days has
long ere this disappeared, and now I see there is a gallery where the
"opposite sex," in very private boxes, can, like fairy sprites, sit
invisible, and listen to mortal melody. In the old time," continued MR.
BARLOW, "you were welcomed by the Proprietor as a personal friend, who
would call JOHN to get the hot chop or kidneys for you at once, and give
the order himself, returning to see if you were comfortably served. Then
the waiters flew, and to command was to have. Now, TOMMY, observe I have
spoken to these waiters, and have ordered my supper more than twenty
minutes since, and it has not appeared. See MR. GREEN himself" (the
veteran here came up, and having affectionately greeted his dear boys,
MASTERS SANDFORD and MERTON, wandered away to another part of the room),
"he is no longer Proprietor; he is only nominally in authority, his
occupation is, in effect, gone; he is the only connecting link between
the past and present EVANS'S, 'retained,' to quote his own immortal line
about the lamented VON JOEL, 'on the establishment, in consequence of
his long services.'"

So affected were both HARRY and TOMMY by MR. BARLOW'S discourse that
they begged to be allowed to quit a place which only aroused so much
sadness in the breast of their beloved preceptor. As they were leaving,
MR. BARLOW paid a shilling for some refreshment which he had taken,
whereupon the waiter begged to be remembered, which MR. BARLOW, being
blessed with a good memory, willingly consented to do. But the waiter
candidly explaining that he was expecting a trifle for his trouble, MR.
BARLOW could not refrain from expostulating with the honest fellow on
the absurdity of such a system, and informed the boys, that, in the old
and palmy days of EVANS'S there was no charge for admission, and the
attention bestowed on visitors being admirable, it was a pleasure to
bestow some gratuity upon the attendants, which was always received by
the money collector at the door with a grateful "I thank you, Sir. Good
night, Sir."

While MR. BARLOW was thus addressing MASTERS HARRY and TOMMY, the waiter
was summoned to a distant quarter of the room, whereupon they ascended
the steps, and found themselves in the Piazza of Covent Garden.

"Farewell, EVANS'S!" said MR. BARLOW, sadly; "I know not that I shall
darken thy doors again!"

"What you were saying, Sir," observed HARRY on their reaching their
lodgings, "reminds me of the story of _Tigranes and the Amphibious
Black_."

_Mr. Barlow._ I do not think TOMMY MERTON has heard it.

_Harry._ Well, you must know, MASTER TOMMY----

But TOMMY had gone straight up-stairs to bed.

MR. BARLOW, who knew the story by heart, having, indeed, himself told it
to MASTER HARRY, then took his candle, and wishing HARRY a very good
night, retired.

                               * * * * *

                              VIÆ ANTIQUÆ.

IT is pleasant to make honourable mention, in _Mr. Punch's_ columns, of
anything bearing the name of JERROLD. The latest appearance of this name
is in conjunction with that of GUSTAVE DORÉ--a household word. Two
artists have been making a pilgrimage through London together, and each,
with his own implement, is recording his experiences, the result to be a
beautiful book, whereof an inviting specimen has appeared. _Mr. Punch_
is glad to welcome a new memorial of Augusta Trinobantum, especially as
that city is being so rapidly "improved," especially in the parts most
likely to attract the eye of M. DORÉ, that it will soon be all as
colourless as a Boulevard or Regent Street. If MR. JERROLD will show M.
DORÉ anything that shall call out the power lavished on the houses in
the pictures to a certain book of _Contes_, the two will do the good
deed of apprising posterity that London was the production of
architects, and not of excessively respectable contractors for building
purposes.

                               * * * * *

                           =Royal Clemency.=

WE have heard, with gratification, that the remainder of the sentence on
JOHN POYNTZ SPENCER, who was sent to Ireland in 1868, and who has since
been immured in Dublin Castle, is likely to be remitted. His admirable
conduct during his exile has endeared him to all, and his return will
be warmly welcomed. It will be felt that he has amply expiated the
political offence of being a Whig Head-Centre, and we trust that an
honourable future is in store for him.

                               * * * * *

                          =SANITARY SERMONS.=

[Illustration: M]OST of our contemporaries have lately improved an
alarming occasion with many monitory observations on typhoid fever. The
whole of these, however, reducible into a few words, may be pretty well
summed up in the caution,--Look to your drains. In addition, _Dr. Punch_
begs to offer a piece of advice _gratis_ to all persons in possession of
his universal remedy, price 3_d._, 4_d._ stamped, to counterfeit which
is piracy. Look to yourselves.

Pestiferous as is the atmosphere of sewers, not only do rats live, but
labourers work in it, the former wholly, the latter for most part with
impunity. The rodents get acclimatised, unless it be that instinct
impels them to take some sort of vegetable or other preventive of
zymotic and mephitic diseases. As for the working-men, they smoke
pipes of tobacco almost to a man, and as generally prescribe for and
administer to themselves alcohol in some one or other of its forms,
commonly that of something short, which, if asked to give it a name, we
will call gin, or euphemistically, Old Tom, not to say, dyslogistically,
blue ruin, for the useless sake of pleasing the United Kingdom Alliance;
those conspirators against the potatory liberty of the subject who hate
us youth, and specially abhor _Punch_. The gin-drinking, prevalent among
the population of the slums, comes of a sense which is medicinal, and
the medicine would, in effect, be altogether salutary but for the
tendency of people to take it in over-doses.

Everybody knows how continually medical men are exposed to all manner of
contagion, and how very seldom they catch any disease. They, it is true,
are not in the habit of asking particularly for gin on coming out of a
sick-room: but they are accustomed to take, or do, whatsoever may be
requisite to maintain the bodily conditions which resist or expel
poisonous or morbid effluvia.

Look to your drains, by all means; but look also to the natural gates
and alleys of the body--keep them clear, and permeable, and pervious.
By what means? Therein the patient may minister to himself if he can,
or else should inquire of his doctor, who will let him know. There is,
however, a popular panacea which he will find invariably efficacious.
The prophylactic as well as therapeutic virtues of _Punch_, of
_Punch's Pocket-Book_, and _Punch's Almanack_, are so universally
known and so deservedly celebrated that any recommendation beyond the
merest reference to those powerful tonic, stimulant, and antiseptic
publications would be superfluous puffery. How much caution soever the
Faculty may recommend in prescribing alcohol in whatsoever form, they
are of unanimous opinion that nobody need hesitate to give or take any
quantity of _Punch_.

                               * * * * *

                         FAIR PLAY FOR LOOSHAI.

THERE is one thing worth note in the manners (or want of manners) of our
present enemies the Looshai folk. The _Standard_ says that they delight
"in transposition of the component parts of the names of places and
chiefs. Thus, SOOK-PI-LAL is often converted into LAL-PI-SOOK. A similar
practice frequently prevails in British India; the lower class of
natives constantly substituting Nucklow for Lucknow." Call these people
savages! Why, they are as witty as most members of the Stock Exchange.
What higher flight can the latter generally attain than the feat of
calling "ROBINSON AND THOMSON" "TOBINSON AND ROMSON," or saying that
JONES lives at "Wampton Hick?" We hope that these Orientals will be
treated with as much consideration as may be. They are none so
uncivilised, as times go. Perhaps they like burlesques.

                               * * * * *

                      =Parallels for the People.=

A BRIGHT idea is that of establishing "Public-houses without Drink."
Would it not be improved upon by the institution of Restaurants without
Meat?

                               * * * * *

[Illustration: VIVIFYING TREATMENT OF A PARTNER.

(_A Tragedy of the last Harrogate Season._)

_Young Lady_ (_to Partner, instantly on their taking their Places_).
"NOW----I'VE BEEN TO FOUNTAINS ABBEY, AND TO BOLTON, AND I'VE SEEN THE
BRIMHAM ROCKS, AND THE DROPPING WELL, AND THE VIEW FROM THE OBSERVATORY,
AND WE HAD A MORNING IN YORK MINSTER, AND WE HAVE BEEN HERE A FORTNIGHT,
AND WE ARE GOING TO STAY ANOTHER, AND PAPA TAKES THE CHALYBEATE WATERS,
AND I AM VERY GLAD THE CAVALRY ARE COMING. _NOW_ YOU MAY BEGIN
CONVERSATION."                           [_Utter Collapse of Partner._ ]

                               * * * * *

                          "COME ABOARD, SIR!"

        "COME aboard, Sir!" to the Captain
          Says JOHN BRIGHT, A.B,
        As he touches his tarpaulin,
          Smart and sailorly.
        And the watch look pleased as Punches,
          Officers and men,
        For A.B.'s like JOHN are always
          Welcome back again!

        Over deck, and spars, and rigging
          JOHN he slues his eye;
        Gives a seaman's squint to leeward,
          Scanning sea and sky;
        At the binnacle he glances,
          Notes the course she steers;
        Nought on board or in the offing,
          Scapes his eyes and ears.

        For the ship has seen hard weather,
          And some people say;
        CAPTAIN GLADSTONE ain't the man he
          Was the other day:
        And if you believe the croakers,
          Officers and crew,
        Don't pull with a will together,
          As they used to do.

        Certain 'tis, since JOHN BRIGHT left her,
          His sick leave to take,
        The old craft, in last year's cruising,
          Had an ugly shake.
        Made poor day's-works, too much lee-way;
          Badly fouled her screw:
        Scraped her copper, if she didn't
          Start a plate or two.

        Certain 'tis, with crew and captain,
          Officers also,
        Things don't go on quite as pleasant
          As they used to go.
        There's been some high-handed doings,
          Some quite the reverse;
        Some's took sick, and some's took sulky;
          Some took soft, or worse.

        There's sea-lawyers--donkey-engines
          Can't their slack haul in;
        You may stop their grog, you'll never
          Stop the yarns they spin:
        There's your discontented beggars,
          Nothing e'er can please;
        There's your pennywise 'uns, nibbling
          At the dips and cheese.

        There's your mutineers, for mischief
          Ripe 'gainst flag and Crown;
        Never pleased unless they're turning
          'Tween-decks upside down.
        There's your Queen's bad bargains, shirking
          Work, whoever strain:
        Trimmers COX'S traverse working--
          "There and back again."

        Green-hands, as can't fudge a reckoning,
          Of a watch in charge;
        Looking after the _Britannia_,
          And can't steer a barge!
        For the Captain has his fancies--
          When he's picked a man
        For a job, whoe'er can't do it,
          _He's_ the chap as _can_.

        Anyway the ship's the better
          By a good A.B.,
        Now JOHN BRIGHT is all a-taunto,
          And come back to sea.
        Be't to talk to the blue-jackets
          Like a 'cute old salt;
        Con the ship, or call the soundings,
          Hide or slang a fault--

        On the yardarm, big guns blowing,
          Weather ear-ring take;
        With bright yarns, to keep the watches
          Spry and wide-awake;
        So as to give cyclones the go-by,
          Safest course to steer;
        Canvas when to spread, when shorten,
          With a lee-shore near--

        No A.B. in the _Britannia_
          Better knows than JOHN:
        Which let's hope that CAPTAIN G. will
          Take his advice thereon.
        Well we know that now JOHN'S buckled
          To his work again,
        'Twill for officers be better,
          And for ship and men!

                               * * * * *

[Illustration: "OFF GREENWICH."

JOHN BRIGHT. "COME ABOARD, SIR!"

CAPTAIN GLADSTONE. "GLAD TO SEE YOU, JOHN. GLAD YOU'RE A.B. AGAIN. IF IT
COMES ON TO BLOW, WE MAY WANT YOUR ASSISTANCE."]


                               * * * * *

                      CHRISTMAS BOXES FOR BEAUTY.

A NOVEL kind of Christmas Box is suggested by a legend which _Mr. Punch_
lately beheld in the window of a hair-dresser's shop--"Presents for
Christmas." It was posted in the midst of a variety of Chignons. A box
containing a quantity of false hair is the Christmas-Box thereby
presented to the imagination of the passer-by. But who would offer it to
a young lady? Such a present is equivalent to the gift of a wig. It is a
Christmas-Box or a New Year's Gift of a class in which may be included
several other articles of a similar description, but more useful, and
much more ornamental. For instance, you might give a friend in need,
personal and pecuniary, a Christmas-Box in the shape of a set of
artificial teeth, or the "Guinea Jaw" of our friend the Dentist, or a
glass eye, or a gutta-percha nose, or a wooden leg.

Some of the "Presents for Christmas" above referred to were Chignons
which looked like horses' tails. Others of the Chignons for
Christmas-Boxes exhibited a remarkable resemblance to the tail of a
comet, from which eccentric luminary the idea of those prodigious
top-knots may possibly have been borrowed. Astronomy, along with
Geography and the Use of the Globes, has long formed a branch of female
education. An intelligent girl, fresh from boarding-school, if requested
to describe the _Coma Berenices_ might, or might not inform her
questioner that it was a celestial Chignon.

                               * * * * *

                              ="Our Wig!"=

Among the names of possible candidates for the Speakership was that of
MR. SAMUEL WHITBREAD, Member for Bedford. He would be an excellent
Speaker, but, as matter of humanity, _Punch_ must have opposed this
selection. Imagine a triumph of the Anti-Liquor League, imagine the
success of a Bill for putting down Porter, and imagine a grandson of
WHITBREAD having to say "That this Bill do pass!"

                               * * * * *

                              =MY HEALTH.=

[Illustration: H]OME we return from otter-hunting. Tired, but expecting
a "Nicht wi' RUDDOCK." He is to be at dinner, and a few very intimates
are coming in the evening. The few "very intimates" have no distance to
drive--merely a matter of eight miles or so.

From my window I hear carriages drawing up exactly at two minutes to
seven o'clock. Punctuality in Cornwall is the soul of pleasure.

Odd: at the last moment I can't find either a collar or a white tie!
"Come, Desperation, lend thy furious hold!" Rummage in the drawers, in
the portmanteau. Staggered. Where can it be?--the collar, I mean.
Rummage again. Getting hot and excited. Ought always to come down to
dinner calm, cool, and collected. I shall be the only one late, and _I_
hadn't to come twelve miles to dinner. No excuse except the real
one,--"Couldn't find my collars, or a tie." Only one thing for it. Ring
the bell, and ask servant.

"O yes. Sir! We were changing the drawers from this room to Master's. I
dessay, Sir, they're in there." They are. Rapture!

_Flash._--Stirring subject for operatic and descriptive music--A
Gentleman's Toilet in Difficulties.

_Next Difficulty._--Drop a stud suddenly. Hear it fall close by my foot.
In fact, I feel, from some peculiar sensation _in_ my foot, that it is
here, on the floor, close to me. No. Hunt for it. Can't see it anywhere.
[_Mem._--Never travel without duplicate studs. Won't, another time.]
Still stooping: feeling about the carpet. Hands getting dirty again,
hair coming unbrushed, face growing warm and red.

_Flash._--The stud being, as it were, an excrescence on the carpet, can
be perceived by lying on the floor, (like an Indian listening to hear if
anybody's coming,) and directing your eye in a right line. After this,
clothes-brush required. Stud found at last exactly where I thought it
had been at first.

_Another Difficulty._--Time getting on. 7.10. PENDELL by this time
anxious below. Every one arrived. I picture to myself RUDDOCK in the
drawing-room, filling up the _mauvais quart d'heure_ by satirical
reflections on the dandy (me) who hadn't time enough to beautify himself
for dinner.

I should be down now, if it wasn't for the button on my collar-band. I
feel that it's all over with it, if not touched gently. Once off, and
worry will be my portion for the remainder of the evening. And I know
what is the result of attempting to pin it.

_Note._--"Curses not loud, but deep." Quotation adapted to
circumstances.

_Last Difficulty, I hope._--After treating the button with suppressed
emotion, dash at the white tie. I find myself asking myself, "Why the
washerwoman _will_ fold it all wrong, and starch it so that the
slightest crinkle shows?" I have no answer. Of course at any other
moment I could tie it at once, and have done with it; but now first one
end's too long, then the other end's too short; then, on the third
trial, the middle part somehow gets hopelessly tucked into itself, and I
am pulling at it, by mistake, for one of the ends. At last I get it
something like all right, but not everything that could be desired.
Waistcoat. Coat. Handkerchief! Where's handkerchief? Where is--... ha!
Down-stairs.

Everybody waiting, evidently. Apology. "Ah!" says PENDELL, "um--ah--now
you've come, we'll--um----" and rings the bell.

I recognise some of our companions out otter-hunting to-day. Galaxy,
too, of Cornish beauty, which means the darkest, brightest eyes and the
clearest, freshest complexions. Not being introduced, I look about for
Old RUDDOCK. There is an elderly gentleman sitting at a table looking
over a photograph book. This is the nearest approach to Old RUDDOCK that
I can see. Dinner announced. I take in MISS BODD, of Popthlanack, and
follow the TRELISSACS, the TREGONIES of Tregivel, and MAJOR PENOLVER,
with MRS. SOMEBODY of Somewhere. Whom RUDDOCK takes, I don't know.

_A Discovery._--I am seated next to Old RUDDOCK of Ruddock, at dinner.
PENDELL introduces us. A hale, hearty, elderly gentleman, with, if any
expression at all, rather a sleepy one, as if a very little over-feeding
would send him into a doze.

Now then for a "Nicht wi' RUDDOCK!"

                               * * * * *

[Illustration: AMBITION.

_Mr. Tittups (suggesting impossible Bank to full-sized Nimrod)._ "DON'T
YOU THINK WE COULD HAVE IT HERE, SIR?"]

                               * * * * *

                            POETRY OF FACT.

AT the festive season of the year particularly, people commonly complain
that the newspapers are dull. Unless in exceptional years, nothing
happens of which the narration is in anywise interesting, and the dearth
of news is generally so extreme that journalists are actually driven to
fill their columns with theological controversies.

The dryness of grammatical details has been surmounted by the device of
putting them into metre, as in the _As in Præsenti_ and the _Propria quæ
Maribus_ of the Eton Latin Grammar. Might not the contents of the
Journals, in like sort, be rendered somewhat less prosy than they
sometimes are by being versified? The telegrams would, perhaps, be
peculiarly susceptible of this treatment, whereunto they seem to lend
themselves in virtue of their characteristic conciseness, which it would
enhance. The electric wire on New Year's Day transmitted a certain
message from Rome. Here it is in the form of blank verse:--

        The King to-day received the Ministers.
        The Deputations Parliamentary,
        The State's great Officers, the military
        And the municipal authorities,
        And other delegates. His MAJESTY
        Thanks for congratulations did return
        To those who tendered them, occasionally,
        Upon the New Year's Day; and he expressed
        His hope that, 'twixt the representative
        Great bodies of the People and the State,
        The concord, which the national unity
        Doth to complete essentially conduce,
        Would ever be maintained.

The Court Circular could be rendered in heroic rhymes. As thus:--

    The QUEEN walked in the Castle Grounds this morn;
    The DUKE OF EDINBURGH, LOUISE, of Lorne
    The Princess, and the Marquis with his bride,
    For Town left Windsor after this noon-tide.
    PRINCE ARTHUR, by SIR HOWARD ELPHINSTONE
    Attended, went to Dover, too, anon.
    Right Honourable GLADSTONE here has been
    To-day, and had an audience of the QUEEN,
    The Premier, after that, remained to lunch,
    The dinner-party included _Mr. Punch_.

Other intelligence, miscellaneous or special, could be couched in
lyrical measures. Take a specimen of a money article:--

        The English funds, this blessèd day,
          Have no fresh movement known,
        Save of one-eighth a rise had they,
          Which could not hold its own.

        Consols so little looked alive,
          As quoted but to be
        At ninety-two one half, to five--
          Eighths, for delivery.

        Excitement did the day throughout
          The Railway Market thrill;
        Shares have been briskly pushed about,
          And prices risen still.

        A hundred thousand pounds in gold
          Came, at the Bank, to hand,
        And much for discount there, behold!
          Increased was the demand.

Police reports also could be embodied in song, as, for example:--

    At Worship Street came PETER FAKE, a young thief,
    Charged with stealing a watch, unto summary grief.
    For three months, with hard labour, committed was he,
    And well whipped, in addition, was ordered to be.

    The prisoner, on hearing his sentence, no doubt
    More than he had expected, burst instantly out
    In a howl, of a sort which description would mock;
    In the midst of it he was removed from the dock.

And so on. The suggestion above exemplified will perhaps be adopted by
some enterprising journalist, prepared to afford the necessary
remuneration to competent poets. In the event of another war, the
communications of Our Special Correspondent might fall naturally into
the form of an Epic, shaped and determined by the course of
circumstances. The title of a journal composed in verse might be, for
want of a better, _The Poetical News_.

                               * * * * *

                              THE SPEAKER.

THE announcement that the present SPEAKER of the House of Commons is
about to take his well-earned pension and Peerage, and that the election
of a successor will be one of the first Acts of Parliament when it meets
in February, has occasioned much writing in newspapers and conversation
in the social circle, in competition with the Temple of Justice, Clubs
for Working-Men, the State of the Streets, and the "insobriety" which
accompanies the festive season.

As some misconception appears to prevail regarding the SPEAKER'S exalted
office, especially amongst the young and gay, and in rural districts,
_Mr. Punch_, the best "Popular Educator" has (with the valuable
assistance of SIR ERSKINE MAY) compiled a few notes on the subject,
which in his leisure moments he hopes to be able to expand into a
voluminous treatise, worthy to take its place by the side of _Enfield's
Speaker_, or anybody else's.

The office of Speaker is as old as the Saxon Wittenagemot, but the mace
now borne by the Serjeant-at-Arms is not the one which CROMWELL
impetuously called a "bauble." That interesting relic of a bye-gone age
is said to be in a private collection in the United States.

The SPEAKER is in the Chair whenever the House is not in Committee. If
it be asked, when is the House in Committee, the answer is
simple--whenever the SPEAKER is not in the Chair.

The young and the gay and the country population have been led astray by
the SPEAKER'S misleading title[A]--the fact being that the SPEAKER does
not speak, except on very rare occasions.

        A: _Lucus a non lucendo.--Sil. Ital. de Arbor._, XV., 1019.

The SPEAKER hears all the speeches which are made during the time he is
in the Chair, _for he must never sleep while on duty_; but as most of
those who have filled the office have lived on, Session after Session,
we may hope that they did not consider themselves bound _always_ to
listen. Even, however, with this relaxation, the poor composition, the
defective grammar, the arid statistics, the threadbare quotations, the
hesitations, the repetitions, the bad delivery, the awkward action, the
wrong emphasis, MR. DENISON must have heard and seen through fifteen
long years, cannot but have caused him untold suffering. It seems almost
incredible that there should be any competition for the horrors of such
a post.

The SPEAKER has a salary, a secretary, a chaplain, a counsel, a
residence, and an allowance for keeping the Mace in order. When he
retires, he has a peerage and a pension, and is allowed to take his Wig
and Gown and Chair away with him.

The SPEAKER, although not one of the commoner sort, is the first
Commoner in the land.

The SPEAKER is entitled to many privileges. He can show friends (not
exceeding four at a time) over both Houses of Parliament without an
order from the Lord Chamberlain; he can take books out of the Library on
leaving a small deposit; he can call a wherry and go on the river
whenever he pleases; every tenth cygnet born between Lambeth and London
Bridge is his by prescriptive right; and he is at liberty to charge the
Consolidated Fund with the cost of any refreshment he may require during
official hours, and with all cab fares to and from the House.

The most terrible exercise of the Speaker's authority is when he "names"
a Member. The miserable man is committed to the Tower for life, and
allowed no book to read but _Hansard_; his estates are forfeited to the
Crown, and once a year, on the day when he committed the offence for
which he was "named," he is taken by the Constable of the Tower in a
tumbril to Westminster, to beg pardon of the SPEAKER and the House on
his knees.

The SPEAKER may be either a bachelor, a married man, or a widower, but
he must be one of the three.

If a new Member shows any eccentricity in his dress, manners, speech, or
general deportment, the SPEAKER asks him to tea, and quietly points out
to him the impropriety of which he has been guilty.

At 2 A.M., at a moment's notice, without any opportunity of consulting
authorities, the SPEAKER may be called upon to state what was the
practice of the House in the reign of EDWARD THE THIRD, or to remember a
precedent established during the time SIR THOMAS MORE filled the office,
or to enforce a Standing Order coëval with the Long Parliament.

                               * * * * *

[Illustration: IN VINO MEMORIA.

_Major Portsoken (a pretty constant Guest)._ "I SAY, BUCHANAN, THIS
ISN'T--(_another sip_)--THE SAME CHAMPAGNE----!"

_Scotch Butler._ "NA, THAT'S A' DUNE! THERE WAS THRUITY DIZZEN; AND
YE'VE HAD YERE SHARE O'T, MAJOR!!"]

                               * * * * *

                             BRAVO! BUMBLE.

    "At a meeting of the Bury Town Council this week, it was stated
    that an address was about to be presented to Her Royal Highness
    the PRINCESS LOUISE of Hesse, by way of a public appreciation of
    her exertions on behalf of His Royal Highness the PRINCE OF
    WALES. It was also stated that it was proposed to present a
    cabinet, containing the photographic likenesses of those signing
    the address--Sheriffs and other officers in their respective
    uniforms, and Mayors of boroughs in their robes."

A MORE interesting gallery of portraits it would be difficult to
imagine, especially, if, as the encouraging words, "and other officers"
incline us to hope may be the case, the macebearers, beadles, and
town-criers, with possibly a selection from the police, are included in
the cabinet. Perhaps it would not be advisable to admit Sheriffs'
officers. A fac-simile autograph underneath each photograph, with the
addition of the writer's usual formula of subscription--"Yours truly,"
"Ever faithfully yours," &c.--would materially enhance the value of the
present. Everyone, who can appreciate good taste, in combination with
retiring modesty, must be struck with this, the latest outburst of
corporate zeal; and the impression such a delicate attention as the
offering of a cabinet containing the likenesses of some of the most
remarkable characters of their time, will produce upon foreign nations,
already full of admiration of our loyalty and envying us our Mayors,
cannot fail to be most gratifying to the nation's vanity.

                               * * * * *

[Illustration: MORE OFFICIAL CENSORSHIP OF PANTOMIME.

_Policeman._ "I WOULDN'T HAVE MINDED A QUIET PERFORMANCE; BUT TO BEGIN
INSULTIN' THE LAWR UNDER MY WERY EYES!--(_Waxing wroth_)--MOVE ON! OR
BLOW'D IF I DON'T RUN YER IN!"]

                               * * * * *

                          SURPRISING A CASTLE.

THE least ancient and least interesting part of Warwick Castle has been
burned. Subscriptions are tendered in aid of a restoration. Question is
raised whether LORD WARWICK should accept these, lest the public should
consider that by subscribing it acquires a certain right in the Castle,
and that the Earl's legend will have a second meaning, when affixed over
the new buildings: _Vix ea nostra voco_. The suggestion is unworthy and
sordid. _Mr. Punch_ would like to see a vote of the Commons in aid of
the subscription for conserving about the noblest relic left to us. He
would be glad to say to the Earl, in LORD WARWICK'S own words in the
Temple Garden, after a certain rose-plucking,

        "This blot that they object against your House
        Shall be wiped off in the next Parliament."

The cool idea that giving a nobleman help to rebuild entitles one to
walk into his property, is concentrated cheekiness; and if castles are
capable of astonishment, _Mr. Punch_ would again quote W. S. to the
Earl, and say, "Your Castle _is_ surprised."

                               * * * * *

                          =Dirt! Dirt! Dirt!=

WE have all been taught to tread the path of duty, but some of us seem
to have forgotten the lesson. May we entreat Commissioners, Boards,
Corporations, Vestries, Parochial Authorities, indeed, any responsible
and rate-levying body which has got into bad ways, to do their duty to
our paths; and if not this winter, perhaps the next--or, not to be too
exorbitant, the next after that--to keep the pavements and the roadways
passably clean? It would be a satisfaction to those of us who have
reached middle age to think that we may yet live to see the streets of
London, and other wealthy towns and cities, rather less lutulent than
country lanes and rural roads. When will the scavenger be abroad?

                               * * * * *

                      THE SICK MAN IN THE VATICAN.

    "It is stated that VICTOR EMMANUEL sent GENERAL PRALORMO to the
    Vatican on New Year's Day to wish the POPE the compliments of
    the season on behalf of His Majesty. On arriving there, he was
    informed by CARDINAL ANTONELLI that the Holy Father was
    indisposed, and could not, therefore, receive him personally.
    The Cardinal undertook to deliver the compliments of the King,
    and the General left. A few hours after, the POPE was completely
    recovered, and held his usual receptions."

THE faithful should congratulate the POPE upon his rapid, almost
miraculous recovery. From the moment the wicked King's emissary was out
of the precincts of the Vatican, the symptoms became more favourable,
and the Court physicians were released from their attendance. We notice,
only to dismiss it with scorn, an impression which appears to exist that
the Holy Father was "indisposed," in the primary sense of the word, as
worldly sovereigns have been before now; for it is not for an instant to
be supposed that a Cardinal would put forth, and a Pope sanction, any
excuse which was not in accordance with the strictest truth.

                               * * * * *

                          =Theological News.=

HIS GRACE the DUKE OF SOMERSET, some time First Lord of the Admiralty,
has come out as a writer on theology. Needless to say that he is not
ceremonious in his treatment of eminent persons. He is by no means
complimentary to the Apostles. His teaching may be condensed into his
own motto, _Foi pour Devoir_, translated subtly. In these days everybody
seems ready to instruct us in religion--except the Bishops.

                               * * * * *

                          JUSTICE TO IRELAND.

MOTTO FOR A BOTTLE OF POTHEEN.--"Oireland! with all thy faults I love
thy still."

                               * * * * *

    =Printed by Joseph Smith, of No. 24, Holford Square, in the
    Parish of St. James, Clerkenwell, in the County of Middlesex, at
    the Printing Offices of Messrs. Bradbury, Evans, & Co., Lombard
    Street, in the Precinct of Whitefriars, in the City of London,
    and Published by him at No. 85, Fleet Street, in the Parish of
    St. Bride, City of London.--SATURDAY, January 13, 1872.=


                           Transcriber Notes:

Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_.

Passages in bold were indicated by =equal signs=.

Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS.

Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of the
speakers. Those words were retained as-is.

The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up
paragraphs and so that they are next the text they illustrate.

Illustrations with a single letter in their caption were sometimes used
in the original pages to serve as inital capital letters.