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  Punch, or the London Charivari

  Volume 105, December 30, 1893.

  _edited by Sir Francis Burnand_

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[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF MR. "MINCE-PIE,"

_THE_ M.P. FOR CHRISTMAS.]

       *       *       *       *       *

THE ADVENTURES OF PICKLOCK HOLES.

(_By Cunnin Toil._)

No. VII.--THE STOLEN MARCH.

(_Continued._)

As soon as we entered the drawing-room all the little GUMPSHONS
clapped their hands with delight, and surrounded their Uncle PICKLOCK,
each of them attempting to infer from the expression on the great
detective's countenance what it was that he carried in his left
coat-tail pocket. "I know what it is," said EDGAR ALLAN POE GUMPSHON,
a boy of fifteen; "it's plum-cake. I know it must be, because I never
seed it, so it ain't seed-cake." GABORIAU GUMPSHON, aged thirteen,
opined it was a packet of bull's-eyes, "'cos that's what detectives
always carry on dark nights," whilst ANN RADCLIFFE GUMPSHON declared
with certainty that it must be nuts, for she had just heard a cracker
explode in the street. "Children," said PICKLOCK HOLES, "you are
nearly right. Your powers have much improved. I am delighted to see
that you are kept up to the mark;" and, speaking thus, he produced
from his pocket an apple, which he presented to EDGAR, a pocket-knife
which he handed to the jubilant GABORIAU, and a pincushion, which was
immediately clasped and carried off in the chubby hand of little ANN
RADCLIFFE. "A year ago," said PICKLOCK, turning to me, "these children
could not have reasoned inductively with one half of their present
approximate accuracy; but my dear sister, Heaven bless her! is a
wonderful teacher, the best and cleverest of us all. Indeed, indeed
you are, PHILIPPA," he continued, warmly embracing Mrs. GUMPSHON. "I
am a mere bungler compared to you. But come, let us to business." At
a signal from Lady HOLES the happy children trooped off to bed, and we
elders were left alone.

Sir AMINADAB opened the conversation. "I sent for you, my dear boy,"
he said, "because I have just received from one of my agents in
the North information of an important case which demands immediate
investigation. Neither HAYLOFT nor SKAIRKROW can go, having business
that keeps them in London. I look, therefore, to you to cover the
family name with new lustre by solving this extraordinary mystery."
Here the old man paused, as though overcome by emotion. PICKLOCK
encouraged him with an expressive look, and he continued:--

"This morning," he said, "I received from my agent this letter." He
drew a sheet of paper from his breast-pocket, and read, in tremulous
tones, as follows:--

  "'_Tochtachie Castle, Daffshire._

"'SIR,--Lord TOCHTACHIE has been robbed. I overheard him last night
conversing with the Hon. IAN STRUNACHAR, his eldest son, who used the
following words: "Not a doubt of it. They have stolen a march----"
More I could not hear at the moment. The case is of immense
importance, and I trust you will lose no time in sending a competent
investigator. I have, of course, concealed both my presence here and
my knowledge of the theft from his lordship.

  "'Yours faithfully, 'DAVID MCPHIZZLE.'"

"There, my boy, is the case. Will you go and help a Scotch
representative peer to recover his own? Think how terrible it must
be to lose the march or boundary that separates your ancestral
domain from that of a neighbour whose whole course of life may be
antipathetic to you. Will you go?"

A wave of emotion passed over my friend's face. I could see that
a struggle of no ordinary kind was raging in his breast. Finally,
however, he looked at me, and his mind, I knew, was made up. In
another ten minutes we had bidden adieu to his family, and were
speeding northwards in the Scotch express.

Over the details of the journey it is not necessary to linger. Suffice
it to say that on the following morning we arrived at Tochtachie, and
took up our quarters in a deserted barn situated in the very centre of
the estate. From this point we pursued our investigations. Our first
proceeding was to interview the local constabulary, but we found them
as obtuse and as foolishly incredulous as policemen are all the world
over. One of them, indeed, went so far as to hint that HOLES was
"havering," which I understand to be an ancient Gaelic word signifying
metaphysical talk, but a look from the great detective chilled him
into silence. Day by day we worked, and not even the night gave us
a rest from our self-sacrificing labours. We mapped out the whole
district into square yards; we gathered the life-history of every
single inhabitant on the estate; we left no clue untracked, no
loophole unblocked, no single piece of evidence unexamined, no
footstep unmeasured. We collected every scrap of torn letter, every
crumpled telegram-form. The very heather of the moor, and the trees
growing in the policies of the Castle were compelled by HOLES'
marvellous inductive powers to yield to us their secrets, until after
weeks of patient toil we at last judged ourselves to be in possession
not only of the stolen march, but also of evidence that would bring
conviction home to the guilty party. We had paused, I remember, by a
heap of granite at the roadside. HOLES seemed strangely excited. "A
march," I heard him muttering, "is performed by footsteps; steps are
often made of stone. Can this be it? It must be! It is!" Then, with
a shout of triumph, he gave orders to have the heap loaded on to a
country cart, which was to follow us to the Castle.

We arrived in the great courtyard at about seven o'clock in the
evening. HOLES slipped from my side, entered the house, and after
a few moments returned to my side. We then clanged the bell, and
demanded to see his lordship. In a few moments Lord TOCHTACHIE
appeared, surrounded by kilted retainers, bearing torches, and
intoning in unison the mournful sporan of the clan. It was a weird and
awful sight. But HOLES, unemotional as ever, advanced at once to the
haughty Scotchman, before whose eye half a county was accustomed to
tremble, and, without any ado, addressed him thus: "My Lord, your
march has been stolen. Nay, do not interrupt me. Your guards are
careless, but not criminal--of that I can assure you. Here is the
stolen property; I restore it to you without cost." At this moment
the cart rumbled up, and ere the peer had time to utter a word, it had
discharged its contents into the middle of the yard. HOLES went on,
but in a lower voice, so as to be heard only by Lord TOCHTACHIE: "The
guilty party, my Lord, is your honoured father-in-law. He dare not,
he cannot, deny it. He is, I know, blind and deaf and dumb. These
qualities do not, however, exclude the possibility of crime. I have
just found these pieces of granite in his morning-room. The proof is
complete."

At this moment a shot was heard in the Castle, and directly afterwards
a frightened butler rushed up to his lordship and whispered to him.
"Ha! say you so?" almost screamed Lord TOCHTACHIE. "That amounts to a
confession. Mr. HOLES," he continued, "you have indeed rendered me a
service. My unfortunate, but guilty father-in-law has shot and missed
himself through the head. But in any ease the honour of the house is,
I know, safe in your hands."

I need hardly say that HOLES has never violated his lordship's
confidence, and the Daffshire peasants still speculate amongst
themselves upon the tortuous mystery of the march which was stolen and
restored.

    NOTE.--There is no proof positive given by any eye-witness
    whose veracity is unimpeachable of the death of the great
    amateur detective as it has been described in the _Strand
    Magazine_ for this month. _Where is the merry Swiss boy who
    delivered the note and disappeared?_ What was the symbolic
    meaning of the alpenstock with the hook at the end, left on
    the rock? Why, that he had _not_ "taken his hook." PICKLOCK
    HOLES has disappeared, but so have a great many other people.
    That he will turn up again no student of detective history and
    of the annals of crime can possibly doubt. Is it not probable
    that he has only dropped out of the _Strand Magazine_? And
    is it not equally probable that under some alias he will
    re-appear elsewhere?

    _Verb. sap._--ED.

       *       *       *       *       *

FATHER CHRISTMAS leaves his cards on everybody about this time, as he
is here only for one day, and off the next. He has employed Messrs.
MARCUS WARD & CO. to do them, and excellent they are all round.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: THE OLD ORDER CHANGETH.

    _Lady Betty_ (_proud of the old ancestral mansion where the
    family have lived ever since the reign of Henry the Eighth_).
    "JUST FANCY WHAT PAPA'S HAVING DONE! HE'S HAVING THE ELECTRIC
    LIGHT PUT IN!"

    _Prosaic Sister-in-law_ (_from Chicago_). "I'M REAL GLAD TO
    HEAR IT. IT'LL BE THE MAKING OF THE PLACE!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

_House of Commons, Friday, December 22._--House adjourned for
Christmas Recess; pleased to find that it will include the whole of
Christmas Day. Some talk of being satisfied with the Sunday, spending
Christmas Day in further pursuit of Parish Councils Bill. But after
deliberation decided to have a real good holiday on Christmas Day.
Came across SQUIRE OF MALWOOD just now. Was chalking up on door "Back
in ten minutes."

"It's a little more than that, of course, TOBY," he said. "But that
has business-like look. Am told it's what they do in the City before
going out for hasty luncheon."

[Illustration: Toby, M.P., enjoys his holiday.]

Enjoyed my holiday reading HERBERT MAXWELL'S life of OLD MORALITY
just published by BLACKWOOD. A difficult task; much easier to make
attractive book out of life of NAPOLEON BONAPARTE than with WILLIAM
HENRY SMITH as subject. That MAXWELL has succeeded appears from fact
that one leaves these volumes with warmer esteem and sincerer liking
for OLD MORALITY even than was born of close observation through
many Parliamentary sessions. MAXWELL has had full access to his
correspondence and journals. Uses them with great discretion; they
bring into mellow, clear light the capable, unselfish, courageous man,
ever following the loadstar of Duty. House of Commons used to smile
when OLD MORALITY, faced by any difficulty or dilemma, talked about
his "duty to his QUEEN and country." In his private letters he does
not put it in that oratorical form. But they are full of references
to the calls of duty. Stricken with a painful malady, worn in body and
wounded in spirit, OLD MORALITY still sturdily trod the narrow path.
There is little doubt that had he, two years before the end came,
retired from the Leadership of the House of Commons his genial
presence might have been with us to-day. But he was wanted at his
post, and he stuck to it.

Writing on the 17th March, 1889, he says: "We have trouble in
politics, and I am very weary. But I must go on doing my daily work as
best I can, looking for guidance and wisdom where alone it can be had
until my rest comes." This cry for rest was always sounding, through
day and night. A few weeks earlier he wrote to another friend: "I can
say God help me. He will take me out of my work when I am no longer
required, and then will come rest."

[Illustration: The last I saw of Harcourt.]

His last appearance in a semi-official capacity was in July, 1891,
when he went to Hatfield to meet the German Emperor. In the last
letter written to his wife he says, "Observing I looked tired last
night, Lady SALISBURY urged me to go to bed early: which I did." One
of his colleagues in the Cabinet, a fellow-guest at Hatfield on this
occasion, tells me he had occasion to know that OLD MORALITY was
in such pain he could not rest in his bed, spending the long night
walking about the room, with occasional rest in an arm-chair. Not
a word of this is written in the letter to Mrs. SMITH, in which he
reports that "everything has gone off wonderfully well to-day, which
must be very satisfactory to the Salisburys." Under his bourgeois
habit and unassuming manner W. H. SMITH modestly hid a chivalrous
mind and a noble nature. He had a kindly heart, too. But everyone knew
that, since he wore it on his sleeve.

_Business done._--Adjourned for so-called Christmas holidays. Think
I'll go and call on Lobengula. "Back in ten minutes," as the SQUIRE
says.

       *       *       *       *       *

EDEPOL!

SIR,--"I'm all the way from Westminster," and the work I have to do
is to let you know about the Latin play performed there. PLAUTUS,
in truth, is not a wildly exciting writer, and there is in the
_Trinummus_ a tameness which, extending, as it does, through five
acts, becomes almost oppressive at the end. The young actors looked
well and enunciated clearly, and one of them, Mr. J. F. WATERS, showed
considerable ability as an actor. But we don't go to the College
of St. Peter at Westminster merely to see the play. There are other
interests. It is pleasant to watch the Old Westminsters rubbing
recollections with one another between the acts, and endeavouring
gallantly during the performance to keep their rusty Latin abreast of
the various situations. Laughter in a Latin play straggles. It is like
a dropping fire of musketry. A Westminster master probably leads
it off; various intelligent veterans take it up dutifully, and the
ladies, bless their unlatinised minds, follow faintly towards the
end. If a London manager wants applause in his theatre let him hire a
contingent of small Westminster boys. They have attained to absolute
perfection in the arts of the _claque_. At no Paris Theatre is it
better done. The epilogue showed a pretty wit and a high degree of
skill in the management of hexameter and pentameter. No one could have
believed that the Kodak advertisement, "you press the button, we do
the rest," would have made so good a Latin line. Much pleased, and so
to bed.

  Yours,      A VAGRANT.

       *       *       *       *       *

"A MERE QUESTION OF TIME."--_Example:_ "What o'clock is it?"

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: OUR "HOUSE PARTY" AT CHRISTMAS.]

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NEW YEAR'S EVE AT LATTERDAY HALL.

(_An Incident._)

SCENE I.--_Library in Latterday Hall_, Sir LYON TAYMER'S _Country
House_. Sir LYON TAYMER _discovered fuming by the mantelpiece, while
his_ Secretary _is glancing over some correspondence_.

_Sir Lyon_ (_irritably_). Here--I suppose you will have to answer
this.

_Secretary._ What is that, Sir LYON?

_Sir Lyon._ You know how anxious I am that my New Year's party
should be a success. A whole heap of celebrities are coming, and,
notwithstanding the immense expense, I engaged a party of Ghosts to
amuse them. Now I have just had a telepathic communication from these
Shadows of Shades--(that's all they are--only Ghosts of departed
heroes and heroines in fiction)--asking whether they're to be treated
on an equality with the other guests, or as mere entertainers! Did you
ever hear of such impertinence! The spokesman--I should say, perhaps,
the Spooksman--is, of all people in the other world, the VICAR OF
WAKEFIELD. A clergyman too! It's quite inconsistent; and so snobbish!

_Secretary._ Dear Sir LYON, excuse me, but it's perfectly natural that
Ghosts should be a little sensitive on the social question. Remember,
for years they were ignored, or looked upon as mountebanks. It is
really only of late that there has been all this excitement about
them, so it is not surprising they are anxious to be taken seriously.

_Sir Lyon._ Well, I suppose I am old-fashioned, but it seems to me
quite ridiculous. These infernal Ghosts give themselves as many airs
as though they were--the Blue Hungarians, at least.

_Secretary._ Ah, from a band we might expect airs. But I should advise
you very strongly, Sir _Lyon_, to treat them as friends. You _must_ be
up to date.

_Sir Lyon_ (_with disgust_). Allow them to dine--perhaps to
_dance_--with my guests?

_Secretary_ (_with calmness_). Certainly they will have to dine; and,
as to dancing, of course they _must_, if they're received on an equal
_footing_.

    [_Smiles to himself at his joke._

_Sir Lyon._ Oh--well--I suppose I must give in. Let them know at once,
and for heaven's sake mind they're punctual.

    [_Scene closes as the Secretary hastily seizes a slate,
    and automatically writes to the Ghosts a very cordial and
    courteously-worded invitation._

[Illustration: Dorian Gray taking Juliet in to dinner.]

SCENE II.--_New Year's Eve at Latterday Hall. In the magnificent
dining-room are seated at dinner a large, well-known, and incongruous
company. The Ghosts are chatting away in the most genial manner
with the living distinguished people, and positively making the
"celebrities" quite "at home."_ DANIEL DERONDA _shows a marked liking
for_ DODO, _whom he has taken to dinner, and is indulging in a light
and airy flirtation with her, which takes a form peculiar to himself_.

_Daniel Deronda_ (_earnestly_). Who has ever pinched into its pilulous
smallness the cobweb of matrimonial duty? Honesty is surely the
broadest basis of joy in life.

_Dodo_ (_a modern Detail in accordion pleating, subject to morbid fits
of irrelevant skirt-dancing_). Oh, Mr. DERONDA, what a silly girl I
am! I can't bear that proverb about "Honesty being the best policy."
It sounds like a sort of life Insurance.

    [_Giggles contemporarily._ DORIAN GRAY _having taken_ JULIET
    _to dinner, and not getting on with her very well, is staring
    with unfeigned horror at_ ROCHESTER, _opposite, who is
    bullying_ JANE EYRE _to a pitiable extent. Behind him is a
    screen of gilt Spanish leather, wrought with a rather florid
    Louis Seize design and encrusted with pearls, moonstones, and
    large green emeralds_.

_Dorian_ (_aside, to_ Young Subaltern, _who has come Home. On leave.
For Christmas_). Who _is_ that dreadful man?

_Young Subaltern._ Who? Old ROCHESTER? Oh, he's a Plain Hero. From the
past. He's all right. How well you're looking! Younger than ever, by
Jove! Which is curious. But why that absurd buttonhole?

_Dorian_ (_hurt_). You never like anything I wear. You Anglo-Indians
are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault.

    [_Arranges his fringe in an old Dutch-silver mirror on the
    opposite mantelpiece, framed in curiously-carved ivory Cupids,
    and studded with precious stones, chiefly opals, sapphires,
    and chrysoberyls._

_Ethel Newcome_ (_to_ Secretary). Who are those two pretty American
girls? They seem to be attracting a great deal of attention. (_I_ am
completely forgotten, I notice.) Do their dresses come from Paris?

_Secretary._ No. I think not, dear Miss NEWCOME. From Messrs. HOWELLS
AND JAMES, I fancy.

_Richard Feverel_ (_cheerily, across the table to_ Mr. PICKWICK).
In tolerance of some dithyrambic inebriety--quiverings of
semi-narration--we seem to be entering the circle of a most magnetic
pseudo-polarity. Don't we?

_Mr. Pickwick_ (_puzzled_). Very kind of you to say so, I'm sure. May
I have the pleasure of taking wine with you?

    [_Dinner proceeds with animation._ BOOTLES' Baby, Little JIM,
    PAUL DOMBEY, _and the_ Heavenly Twins _come in to dessert, and
    are more or less troublesome_.

_Sir Lyon_ (_aside, to_ Secretary, _when the ladies have retired_).
I say, you know I am afraid this is going to hang fire. It's nothing
less than a miracle for a social affair to go off well when the people
are not in the same set. Old PICKWICK's been asking for "a wassail
bowl." I haven't got such a thing about me; and I should have thought
'74 champagne would have been good enough, but he says it's like our
humour--_too new_! The children are bothering to know why there isn't
a Christmas-tree.

_Secretary._ Tell them to go to the--Haymarket. The reward will
be--swift. Might I suggest mistletoe? I should be very pleased to go
under it with Madame BOVARY, just to show the others how to----

_Sir Lyon_ (_stiffly_). Much obliged, but I will not give you that
trouble. If _anyone_ goes under the mistletoe with Madame BOVARY it
will be myself. Remember that.

_Secretary._ Oh, certainly! I merely meant----How about
crackers? I could set the thing going by pulling one with Miss OLIVIA.
The old Vicar said just now, in his pointed, Gothic way, something
about times having changed, and----

_Sir Lyon._ Yes, we'll have crackers, but you can leave _me_ to pull
the first one with Miss OLIVIA. It would look better. Perhaps we'd
better let the Ghosts give their entertainment now--eh?

_Secretary._ I'll arrange it at once.

SCENE III.--_In the Hall, in which is a temporary theatre; all the
Modern Celebrities are seated on rows of chairs, chattering, flirting,
and discussing Insomnia and the New Criticism. Behind the scenes the
Ghosts are disputing as to which shall recite first, the order of
precedence depending entirely on the question as to which is the most
completely defunct. Finally_, ERNEST MALTRAVERS _and_ TOM JONES _go on
together, and the Curtain goes up_.

_Ernest Maltravers_ (_musingly, in a low yet ringing voice, in which
Pride struggles with Emotion_). Let us learn, from yon dinner-table,
o'er which brooded the spirits of the Novelists of all time, to lift
ourselves on the wings of Romanticism back to Bombastic and Primeval
Prose. (_Breaks off suddenly. Aside, to_ TOM JONES.) I cannot go on
like this. We ought to have had a _scenario_.

_Tom Jones_ (_suppressing laughter, aside_). Why, thou foolish
scoundrel, is there not one in front? How else could be seated there
so many fair ladies and gallant gentlemen?

_Ernest Maltravers_ (_aside_). In the contemplation of your idiocy, I
curb with difficulty the impulse that leads me to crush the life from
your bosom. Know, Ignorant One, that a _scenario_ is not the same
thing as an auditorium.

    [TOM JONES _is about to attack him with fine old English
    violence, when the curtain suddenly falls. The entertainment
    is interrupted. The audience appear at once amused and
    shocked._ DORIAN_ takes out his little vinaigrette exquisitely
    set with turquoises, cymophanes, amethysts, and tourmalines,
    and offers it to the_ Subaltern, _who, evidently unaware of
    its use, pockets it._

_Subaltern._ You got that out of a cracker, didn't you? I'll take it
Home. For the kids.

    [_The entr'acte is growing so prolonged that the_ Secretary
    _goes behind the scenes to know the cause of the delay. He
    finds all confusion. The party has been increased by the
    presence of_ Mr. STEAD'S Spook JULIA, _who, having half an
    hour to spare, has come to protest against the "indignity"
    as she calls it, of fine old crusted Ghosts being expected to
    perform to a lot of mere modern myths. She speaks with such
    eloquence that she persuades them, one and all, to leave
    without finishing their performance and entirely without
    ceremony. Nothing the_ Secretary _can say has any effect, and
    they all vanish, leaving "not a wrack behind," except, a slate
    pencil JULIA has dropped in her excitement_.

_Sir Lyon_ (_after hearing the news_). Shameful! Never again will I
have a Ghost in this house. This is what comes of treating them as
equals! I'll--I'll--I'll write to the Psychical Society!

    [_Scene closes as all the guests crowd round him and ask him
    to drink the health of Modern Fiction and--The New Year._

       *       *       *       *       *

MAY AND DECEMBER.

[Brighton is now represented by two of the youngest members in the
House.... Mr. GLADSTONE intends to spend Christmas at Brighton.]

  Just now, when the weather seems May in December,
  They've sent up from Brighton another young member,
  Two juvenile gentlemen sit for the town,
    Their ages united just two-thirds would be
  Of that of the statesman who often goes down
    To seek renewed youth by the murmuring sea--
                                      Mr. G.

  Two Tories--meek May fighting sturdy December
  Their foe is an old hand these lads should remember.
  They'll probably sit most judiciously dumb,
    Or only object like the murmuring sea.
  To the House, sent from Brighton, the youngest have come;
    From the House, down at Brighton, the oldest will be--
                                      Mr. G.

       *       *       *       *       *

A SEASONABLE VADE MECUM.

(_By Ker Mudgeon, Senior._)

_Question._ What is the most satisfactory motto for Christmas?

_Answer._ That it "comes but once a year."

_Q._ Then it is as well to take a gloomy view of the season?

_A._ That is the only reasonable aspect in the face of a pile of
"Christmas bills."

_Q._ What are Christmas cards?

_A._ Advertisements of existence sent to enemies as well as friends.

_Q._ What is a plum pudding?

_A._ Indigestion in the concrete.

_Q._ And a mince pie?

_A._ An excuse for a glass of brandy or a glass of any other equally
potent liquid.

_Q._ Does old-fashioned English Christmas fare benefit anyone?

_A._ Yes; doctors and chemists.

_Q._ Why does an elderly person go the pantomime?

_A._ Because he likes it just as much as a schoolboy.

_Q._ What reason does he give for his visits to Drury Lane, the
Lyceum, or the Crystal Palace?

_A._ That he visits those places of entertainment for the sake of the
children.

_Q._ But if he is an old bachelor?

_A._ He declares that he likes to see the delight of other people's
children.

_Q._ What is the _spécialité_ of a Christmas family party?

_A._ Row all round.

_Q._ What are the regulation wishes of Yule-tide?

_A._ A Happy Christmas and a Prosperous New Year.

_Q._ And the probable result?

_A._ The attainment of neither.

       *       *       *       *       *

CROSSED IN LOVE.--A wedding-present cheque.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: FINAL ORDERS.

_Keeper (to Boy out for his first day's driving)._ "MIND AND SPREAD
YERSELF OUT!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

"Sir," said a wisely deferential friend of the Baron's, approaching
the Baronial arm-chair wherein sat His Super-Excellency regaling
himself in truly Regal-Cole-ian fashion, "Sir, I present to your
notice a book entitled _In Search of a Climate_." "With such a title,"
quoth the Baron, in poetic humour, "it should have been dedicated
to His Grace of Canterbury. Would not this distich well favour the
title-page? Listen:--

  "'In Search of a Climate,' | From CHARLES B. NOTTAGE,
  This to the Primate!       | Who lives in a cottage."

"W. A.," or "The Wisely Appreciative," went into wisely appreciative
ecstasies. "Baron," he presently resumed, "you will be graciously
pleased to read it." "I will recline on my sofa," returned the
Baron, "and, in that position, do my level best." So saying, His
Super-Excellency suited the action to the word, and, waving his hand
in token that he was not to be disturbed for the space of some forty
winks or more, he bent his head in silent study o'er the somewhat
bulky volume. "One of the most interesting and instructive chapters in
this excellently elaborated book of reference," said the Baron, some
time afterwards--"a book full of 'wise saws and modern instances'--is
that headed 'Religion and Rum,' whence it appears that, whatever
form of worship the Natives from time to time might adopt, it always
included the cult of spirits in some form or other. The title of this
chapter," observed the Baron, judicially, "instead of 'Religion
and Rum,' should rather have been 'Rum Religions, or Spirituous
Influences.' Towards the close of the book the author still seems to
be _In Search of a Climate_. But what sort of a climate does he seek?
One to suit everybody? Why, like the distinguished individual who was
'terribly disappointed with the Atlantic,' there are people, quoted
as testimony above proof by Mr. NOTTAGE, of the Cottage, who were
'all terribly disappointed with the climate of Santa Barbara and Los
Angeles.' Well, then," quoth the Baron, "try Margate and Ramsgate."
The book, attractively got up, is published by the firm whose name
always recalls to the Baron's verse-atile mind that delightful poem
set to dulcet music yclept "_Soft and Low, Soft and Low_," only that
the names are SAMP-SON Low, Low & Co., which, set to the same strain,
will "do as well." "And," quoth the Baron, suddenly inspired, "what a
series of songs for Publishers and Bookbinders might be written! For
example, _'My Mother bids me bind my books!' 'I am inter-leaving
thee in sorrow.' Cum multis aliis suggestionibus!_ But this is
_délassement_. Let our toast be, 'Our noble Shelves!'--'our noble
Book-shelves!'" explains the Baron, gaily; and so back to the Brown
Study where, as Baron BROWN BEARD, he disposes of the various heads
in his department, and signs himself, THE JUST AND GENEROUS BARON DE
BOOK-WORMS.

       *       *       *       *       *

MRS. RAM says no wonder people are blown out at Christmas, as they do
fill themselves with so many "combustibles."

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: "SCENES OF CLERICAL LIFE."

(_A Meeting of the Church of England Temperance Society. The Vote of
Thanks to the Chairman_.)

"AND, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, LET ME POINT OUT TO YOU, IN THESE DAYS
WHERE THE ACTIVITY OF THE CHURCH IS SO OFTEN CALLED INTO QUESTION,
THAT OUR REVERED DIOCESAN COULD NEVER BE CALLED AN '_ORNAMENTAL
BISHOP'_!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

"THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS PRESENT."

(_Passages from a Political "Christmas Carol" of the Period
descriptive of a slumbering Stateman's Yule-Tide Dream._)


Awaking in the middle of a prodigiously sonorous snore, and sitting up
on what seemed to be a nightmare-like blend of the Treasury Bench and
his own bed, to get his thoughts together, SADSTONE (like _Scrooge_)
had no occasion to be told that Big Ben was again upon the stroke of
Twelve.

Now, being prepared for almost anything--from J-SS-E C-LL-NGS to
a Vote of Censure--he was not by any means prepared for Nothing!
Consequently, when the bell boomed its twelfth stroke, and nothing
appeared, or happened--not even a nightmare in the shape of T-MMY
B-WL-S, or a Motion for Adjournment--he was taken with a fit of the
shivers.

At last he began to think that the source and centre of the ghostly
light which seemed to gleam on him from nowhere in particular, might
be in the adjoining room, his own private Downing Street _sanctum_.
Thence indeed, on further tracing it, it seemed to shine. This idea
taking full possession of his mind, he got up softly, and shuffled in
his slippers to the door.

The moment SADSTONE'S hand was on the lock, a strange voice called him
by his name, and bade him enter. He obeyed.

It was his own room. There was no doubt about that. But it had
undergone a surprising transformation. The walls and ceiling were
so hung with shamrock green and shillelagh branches that it looked
a perfect Grove of Blarney. A lurid blaze, like a blue-tongued
snapdragon flare, went hissing up the chimney, revealing in weird
glimpses on the heated hearth and chimney tiles spectral figures of
impish design and menacing gesture. Heaped up on the floor, to form a
kind of throne, were Blue Books, abortive Bills, scrolls on which
were inscribed endless questions and unnumbered amendments; bundles of
party papers and political pamphlets; pallid sucking-pigs that seemed
to demand rather opportune interment than human digestion; long
wreaths of sausage-like shackles; resurrection pies of indigestible
crust and full of offal scraps and tainted "block ornaments";
pudding-shaped bombs; barrels of explosives and fulminants; red hot
(political) "chestnuts" of the most hackneyed partisan sort; Dead-Sea
apples of the dustiest kind, savouring of sand and strife; fiery
looking Ulster oranges; belated (parliamentary) pairs, and seething
bowls of raw and vitriolic party spirit, that made the chamber dim,
dank, and malodorous with their heady steam. In uneasy state upon this
extraordinary conglomerate couch or throne, there sat an ogreish giant
of pantomimic size and bogeyishly menacing expression, portentous to
see; who bore a smokily-flaring torch, in shape not unlike an Anarch's
beacon or Fury's bale-fire, and held it up, high up, to shed its lurid
light on SADSTONE, as he came peeping round the door.

"Come in!" exclaimed the Ghoul-Ghost. "Come in, and know me better,
(G. O.) Man!"

SADSTONE entered timidly, and hung his head before the Spirit. He was
hardly the dogged SADSTONE he had been, and the Spirit's eyes were so
glowering and ungenial, he did not like to meet them.

"I am the Spirit of Christmas Present," said the apparition. "Look
upon me!"

SADSTONE sorrowfully did so. It was clothed in one simple
emerald-green robe or mantle, bordered with buff fur of the dull
tint dear to the old Scotch Whig. This garment hung so loosely on
the figure that its capacious breast was bare, as if disdaining to
be warded or concealed by any artifice. On its head it wore no other
covering than a wreath of shamrock, set here and there with a thistle.
Its dull black curls were long and elf-like and weird; weird as its
frowning face, its staring eye, its clenched hand, its raucous voice,
its despotic demeanour, and its gloomy air. Girded round its middle
was an antique scabbard, holding a huge two-handed sword; the
blade, ready to leap from its sheath, seemed a most unsuitable and
unseasonable adjunct to what mankind has been wont to regard as the
gentle and genial Spirit of Peace and Goodwill.

"You have never seen the like of _Me_ before!" exclaimed the Spirit.

"_Ne-e-ver!_" SADSTONE made answer to it, in accents stammering
somewhat, yet most emphatic.

[Illustration: THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS PRESENT.

(_Suggested by John Leech's Picture._)

"COME IN, AND KNOW ME BETTER, (G. O.) MAN!"]

       *       *       *       *       *

DISTORTED MERCY.

[Illustration: IT] _is New Year's Eve. In a comfortable arm-chair
by the fire sits the_ Metropolitan Magistrate. _He smiles in
self-complacency. He speaks:--_

This year I have most faithfully fulfilled my duty; the spirit of
sweet leniency has marked my every sentence--at least toward the more
flagitious and inhuman offender. Thus have I, in place of punishing,
won over to more virtuous ways; so may I doze the cheerful,
self-admiring doze of virtue.

    [_He dozes. Gathering from the comfortable reflections of the
    fire and lamp thrown from the polished furniture, a radiant
    form shapes itself at his elbow. The_ Magistrate _smiles in
    his sleep, in great content_.

_The Metropolitan Magistrate._ Who art thou, visitant?

_The Form._ I am the Spirit of thy Leniency. I come to show thee
how fair and flattering a result thy milder sentences--to wit, those
passed upon the more outrageous culprits--have yielded. See! (_Waves
a wand._) This is he who came before thy judgment seat for--after
repeated warning--selling milk from premises teeming with scarlet
fever. Thou didst say, "_It is the grossest, and most shocking case
of brutal disregard for human life I ever heard!_" and thereupon didst
fine him half-a-crown--the minimum penalty.

_M. Mag._ (_with affectionate interest_). And since? How farest now,
thou naughty one?

_Milk Criminal._ O most blessed Magistrate and sweet Your Worship, I
fare most happily; for, most comfortably encouraged by your gracious
leniency, I did redouble--nay, multiply an hundred times--mine efforts
to disseminate disease; so that I may, without undue boasting, claim
to be father of an epidemic that felled its hundreds. And further, in
the doing of this I have heaped up a most goodly pile of gold. Give me
your blessing, most sympathetic Your Worship!

_M. Mag._ (_recoiling_). Nay; mine intentions looked not toward so
dire result! I cannot bless----

_The Spirit._ How, good Stipendiary? Dost thou now disown me, thine
own Spirit? Thou must surely bless thy _protégé_, him who but carries
out thy methods to their logical result! And see, I summon others of
thy choice; this good butcher who hath sent unwholesome meat to
London to feed the poor. Thou didst say of him, "_A most inhuman,
ill-conditioned knave and rascal; a constructive homicide! I will not
imprison him, but fine him seven shillings._" And again, see this good
rough who kicked a constable nearly to death; thou saidst of him, "_A
miscreant unfit to live. A savage worse than any tiger! One shilling
fine._" Then finding he could not pay without foregoing his accustomed
gin, thy heart relented, and thou didst discharge him. Then again,
here have we this fair hawker who kicked his donkey's legs and so
belaboured him with cudgels that he left no bone unbroken; thou
saidst of him, "_An act more horrible and sickening could scarce be
perpetrated by a fiend!_" Then, with a gentle caution, thou didst set
him free.

_M. Mag._ But tell me, prithee, what the outcome was of these my
leniences. Did results not justify----?

_The Butcher._ Oh, yes, indeed, in my case! Taking courage, seeing
that justice was so linked with mercy, I did extend most energetically
my little venture in unwholesome meat, and now am rich, and have been
made a lord.

_The Rough._ And since your clemency, O sweet your Worship, I've
kicked to death some dozens of assorted victims--policemen, girls, and
infants.

_The Hawker._ And I----

_M. Mag._ (_writhing_). Oh, peace, and spare me! Get ye gone!

_The Criminals._ What? This is passing strange! You will not bless the
work yourself have fostered?

_M. Mag._ (_tearing his hair_). _I_ fostered? _I_, the gentle
magistrate, the soul of clemency----?

_The Spirit._ Come, bless thy chosen clients!

    [_With a shriek the_ Metropolitan Magistrate _awakes from
    his doze. He is haggard; his eye is bloodshot with horror. He
    speaks, shuddering:--_

What are these hideous crimes that I have done, mistaking them for
mercy? How unworthy am I to touch so sweet an attribute, distorting
and most basely turning it from its appointed course! There chime the
bells. Let them proclaim how, in the coming year they usher in, I
will essay to win this fair, sweet attribute entrusted to me, and so
misshapen by my cruelties, back to her rightful form! I will begin by
showing mercy unto Mercy's self.

       *       *       *       *       *

A STUDY IN BROWN.

  I've caught you, hazel-eyed brunette, day-dreaming, chin on hand!
  Don't think, now, that my stolen sketch is bold and contraband!
    Nay, rather, 'tis the _duty_ that's imposed on ev'ry beauty,
  To grant that with respectful glance her profile may be scanned.

  To picture such a wealth of brown would VANDYCK'S self delight;
  Brown eyes I see, and waving hair, brown as a summer night.
    _I_ cannot do you justice, but this thumb-nail sketch, I trust, is
  A deep brown-study rendered into simple black and white.

  In reverie reflective, has your wayward fancy strayed,
  It may be, to last summer's tryst in some wild English glade,
    Or old-world forest-garden, where, like _Rosalind_ in Arden,
  Your troth you plighted, or, love-lorn, outmourned the Nut-brown Maid?

  [Illustration]

  You're wand'ring in Mahatma-land, and counting astral sheep?
  And gathering wool that never grew, a Brownie-led _Bo-peep_,
    Or, possibly, pursuant of an Ego playing truant.
  And lost amid the labyrinth of dim hypnotic sleep?

  For all I know, you're musing in this meditative trance
  On modern and sublunar joys, as dinner, dress, and dance!
    Or is it _toothache_ merely that--well, makes you stare so queerly?
  (Somehow I ne'er _can_ draw the line 'twixt bathos and romance!)

  If thus I seem inquisitive, don't kill me with a frown!
  Though times are hard, in vulgar phrase, I'll plank my money down!
    Your train of thought to share (if you'll accept a penny-tariff),
  I tender, with my compliments, the coin that's called a "brown"!

       *       *       *       *       *

PRODIGIOUS!

TO MR. PUNCH,--Sir,--I appeal to you. Ought scientific papers to be
allowed to publish incitements to bloodshed and anarchy? I have just
read in one an enthusiastic commendation of "an agitator working at
280 revolutions per minute." This agitator is, it appears, closely
connected with an "annihilator." It is true that the annihilator is a
smoke-annihilator, and the agitator is part of its machinery; but who
knows what influence may be exerted upon weak minds at such a time as
this by the use of these awful terms? Is the Home Secretary asleep?

  Yours,
  A PATRIOT.

       *       *       *       *       *

MYSTERIOUS.--In _Sala's Journal_ for December 13 the advertisement of
the Christmas Number announces that "arrangements have been made for
publishing the Portraits of the Contributors at the commencement of
their respective articles. This, it is believed, will prove a very
interesting feature." No doubt. But _which_ "feature," and _whose_
"feature," and to which contributor will "the very interesting
feature" in the portrait belong? They cannot surely have only one
feature among them! Among the special contributors, each of course
with distinctive features, are Sir AUGUSTUS HARRIS, Mr. SUTHERLAND
EDWARDS, Mr. ARTHUR À BECKETT, and Mr. DAVENPORT ADAMS. Excellent
company each, with most interesting features. But which feature is to
be taken as representing the lot? "Nose?" Well, there's point in that.
"Cheek?" Ahem! Will it be "All their eye?" Evidently the only way
of satisfying curiosity is to purchase a copy of _S. J.'s_ Christmas
Number.

       *       *       *       *       *

SEASONABLE RIDDLE.--When does a turkey look a goose?--When quite by
himself he has to face a party of twenty-four.

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: INHUMAN.

_Sportsman_ (_who has caught Brown's mare_). "NOW THEN! THIS WAY OUT,
SIR, THIS WAY OUT!" _Brown_ (_who has already swallowed about a quart
of mud and water_). "B--B--BUT IT'S DEEP!" _Sportsman_ (_impatient_).
"CONFOUND IT, MAN! DO YOU EXPECT ME TO FETCH A BOAT?"]


CHRISTMAS HAMPERS.

_For the Czar._--Alliances--French and Triple.

_For the Kaiser._--"The Great Revenge."

_For the King of Italy._--The Military Estimates.

_For the King of Greece._--The Adjustment of the National Revenue.

_For the President of the French Republic._--The Legacy of CARNOT the
First.

_For the President of the United States._--Protected Free Trade.

_For the Sultan._--The Khedive.

_For the Khedive._--The Sultan.

_For the Premier._--His followers.

_For the Foreign Secretary._--His colleagues.

_For the Chancellor of the Exchequer._--The coming Budget.

_For the Home Secretary._--Trafalgar Square.

_For the Colonial Secretary._--South Africa.

_For the Postmaster-General._--Cards for Christmas and the New Year.

_For the War Office._--The Admiralty.

_For the Admiralty._--The War Office.

_For the Theatre-Managers._--The Clerk of the Weather.

_For the Music-Hall Proprietors._--The London County Council.

_For the London Public._--The Paving Contractors.

_For the Bar._--The Solicitors.

_For the Solicitors._--Reluctant Litigants.

_For the Stockbrokers._--The State of the City.

_For the Poor._--The Condition of the Money Market.

_And for the World in general and Britons in particular._--The
Influenza.

       *       *       *       *       *

THE KISS THAT COSTS.

    [A fair plaintiff, who brought a breach of promise action
    worth under ordinary circumstances at least £1000, had to be
    content with £100 because she had in the meantime been kissed
    by a new suitor.]

  The gorse is out in kissing time,
    And that is always--so the saw.
  But know from henceforth (and this rhyme)
    This does not follow in the Law.
  For she, who, jilted by her swain,
    Brings him to Court, and braves the laughter,
  Must--if she longs for gold--refrain
    From kissing Number Two--till after!

       *       *       *       *       *

A Little Girl's Christmas Story.

  Polly!     |     Folly!
  Holly!     |      (Gobbles!)
  Jolly!     |     Colly
  Dolly!     |      (Wobbles!)

       *       *       *       *       *

OUR BARTERERS.--SIDEBOARD.--I have a magnificent-looking article, made
of unseasoned deal, coloured to resemble walnut. As great care has
been taken to imitate a really first-class piece of furniture by a
good maker, it is hoped that the fact that the wood is certain to
split and warp, that the drawers jam, that the keyholes are dummies,
and that the whole is a piece of cunning shoddy, will escape the
attention of the average purchasing idiot. What offers?

       *       *       *       *       *

TO PICKWICKIAN STUDENTS.--Of what class of persons is it recorded in
_Pickwick_ that "their looks are not prepossessing and their manners
are peculiar"?

       *       *       *       *       *

THE CRY OF THE CIVIC TURTLE.

  'Twas the voice of the Turtle, I heard him complain,
  "You would wake me! Be off!! Let me slumber again!
  Your 'Royal Commission on Unification'
  Be ----!" something that seemed to convey commination.
  "_I_ shan't 'tender evidence'--hang it, not I!--
  Why I, as a separate body, should die!
  I've power, prosperity, plumpness, and pelf;
  If you want an 'Amalgam'--why, mix it yourself!"

       *       *       *       *       *

Feminine Saturnalia.

    [Miss KLUMPKE has just achieved a great triumph with a learned
    treatise on the Rings of Saturn.]

  Oh! maiden, learned, wise, you can
    To froward woman prove a pattern,
  You pay your due respect to Man
    By writing up the Rings--of Saturn!

       *       *       *       *       *

NEW PRANDIAL PROVERBS.--What's underdone can't be helped. A bird in a
pie is worth two in a dish. Apollinaris (or any other) water in time
saves wine. The early guest gets it hot. It is never too late to dine.

       *       *       *       *       *

A TRUTH IN SEASON.--What would Christmas be without the Cracker?
Messrs. G. SPARAGNAPANE have their reply ready with their "Cracker
Skirt-Dancer" and their "May Blossom" (so nice in December), which is
a pleasant souvenir of _The_ Wedding. Of course, all these crackers
will "go off" well!

       *       *       *       *       *

[Illustration: INDEX]

  ADAPTED, 64

  Ad Fratrem, 3

  Adventures of Picklock Holes (The), 69, 76, 85, 100, 168, 213, 289,
  301

  Advertiser's Appeal, 270

  Afternoon Party (An), 13

  "After the Ball" in Paris, 297

  After the Call, 243

  Alexander and Diogenes, 162

  Anacreontics for All, 273

  Angels, 186

  Another Scene at the Play, 64

  Argentina, 226

  Arriet on Labour, 88

  "Art of 'Savoy Fare'" (The), 204

  At Covent Garden last Thursday, 37

  At the Sea-Side Church Parade, 73

  At the Shaftesbury, 123

  At the World's Water-Show, 40

  Australian A B C (An), 57

  Australia the (without) Golden, 94

  BABES on the Treasury Bench (The), 255

  Balfour's Boon, 101

  Ballad (A), 262

  "Ballade Joyeuse," 106

  Ballade of Earlscourt, 57

  Ballade of Lost Repartees, 142

  Ballad of Departed Pippins (The), 41

  Ball versus Ball, 297

  Bank Holiday Beauty, 292

  Behemoth and the Lion, 182

  Belfry of Bruges Overlooked (The), 274

  Bicycle built for Two (A), 258

  Birds of Pray, 219

  Bishop Bobadil, 166

  Bitter Cry of the Broken-Voiced Chorister, 37

  Black Shadow (The), 210

  Blue Belles of Scotland (The), 298

  Bobo, 178

  Bogus Manager's Vade Mecum (The), 237

  "Book that Failed" (The), 123

  Brick-à-Brac, 195

  Bright and Beautiful Working Man, 192

  British Athletes Vade Mecum (The), 82

  Brown Study in Autumn Tints (A), 109

  Burden of Burdon Sanderson, 142

  Business, 246

  "But that's another Story," 225

  CABMAN'S Guide to Politeness, 209, 225

  Carr-Actors at "The Comedy," 185

  Cause and Effect, 245

  Central Hall of the Law Courts (The), 217

  Champion Shaver (The), 282

  Chance for the Briefless (A), 274

  Change of Partners (A), 279

  Christmas Hampers, 310

  City Horse (The), 190

  Closure at Home (The), 61

  Coal and Wood, 257

  Cockney on a Great Collection (A), 252

  Connected with the Press, 77

  Conversation-Book for Candidates, 258

  Conversion à la Mode, 121

  Cophetua, L.C.C., 113

  County Council's Progressive Programme (The), 300

  Cream of the Cream, 219

  Cricket across the Channel, 61

  Cricket Congratulations, 70

  Croquet, 87

  Crowning the Edifice, 153

  Cry of the Civic Turtle (The), 310

  Cure-ious! 99

  DALY Dream (A), 180

  Damon out of Date, 205

  Dance till Dawn, 16

  Danger! 85

  Dark Continent in Two Lights (The), 226

  Decayed Industry (A), 82

  Deptford hath its Darling, 273

  "Devil's Advocate" (The), 51

  Diary à la Russe (A), 193

  Directors' Vade Mecum (The), 49

  Distorted Mercy, 309

  Ditty of the Dog-Days (A), 17

  Diver (The), 98

  Double Entente, 228

  Drama College, 192

  Dr. Dulcamara Up to Date, 218

  Dream-Book for Would-be Travellers, 65

  Ducal Doings, 292

  "Due South," 137, 145, 157, 169

  EFFEMINACY of the Age, 97

  1893; or, the Government Guillotine, 2

  Englishman in Paris (The), 77

  Essence of Parliament, 11, 22, 34, 46, 58, 70, 82, 94, 106, 118, 130,
  142, 154, 226, 238, 250, 262, 274, 286, 298, 302

  European Crisis Averted! 273

  Examination Paper for Ladies, 45

  Expostulation (An), 216

  FABIUS Fin-de-Siècle, 225

  Fallen Art (A), 25

  "Fantastic" Action (A), 192

  Farewell! 190

  Fashionable Intelligence, 51

  Father William, 18

  Feminine Triumph (A), 277

  "Flibbertigibbet," 261

  Fool with a Gun (The), 159

  "Forlorn Hope" (The), 150

  Fragments from a Franco-Russian Phrase-Book, 197

  French Flag (The), 228

  French Wolf and the Siamese Lamb (The), 54

  From Colchester, 111

  From Grave to Gay, 89

  From Our Island Special, 58

  From Professor Muddle, 34

  Future of Home Rule (The), 245

  GAME of Chance (A), 285

  Gingham-Grabber (The), 237

  Going to the Country, 120

  Golden Memories, 141

  Good Luck to it! 253

  "Good Sir John!", 166

  Great African Lion-Tamer (The), 230

  HANDY Boy (The), 246

  "Hark! I hear the Sound of Coaches!", 255

  Haunted! 101

  Health-Seeker's Vade Mecum (The), 1

  Height of Comfort (The), 241

  "Here's to the Client," 63

  Her Sailor Hat, 101

  Highland "Caddie," 122

  Highly Probable, 282

  "History (nearly) repeats itself," 261

  History Repeats Itself, 154

  Home Rails, 243

  How to Write a Cheap Christmas Number, 265

  "Hymen Hymenæe!" 6

  IDEAL Conversation (The), 159

  Ideal Drama (The), 202

  In Black and White, 225

  Inquiry (An), 233

  Intelligence à l'Americaine, 10

  JOHN Bull's Naval Vade Mecum, 118

  John Tyndall, 277

  Jolly Young Watermaids (The), 156

  Just Cause, 25

  KISS that Costs (The), 310

  LATEST Autumn Fashion (The), 228

  Latest Crisis (The), 61

  Latest Parisian Romance (The), 33

  Law and Justice v. Duty "done," 286

  Lawyer's Chortle (A), 205

  Lay of the "Ancient" (The), 101

  Lays of Modern Home, 33

  Lesson for Labour (A), 138

  Letter Home (A), 183

  Letters for the Silly Season, 111

  Letters to Abstractions, 97

  Life (and Death) in South America, 158

  Lines on (and off) an Italian Mule, 141

  Little Bill-ee, 114

  Little Master Minority, 198

  Little Old Woman who Lived in a Shoe, 86

  Lobengula's Letter-Bag, 257

  London Pest (A), 25

  London School-Board Vade Mecum (The), 165

  Lord Chancellor's Song (The), 289

  Lost Smell (The), 274

  Love and Law, 142

  Love's Labour's Lost, 86

  "L'Union fait la--Farce!", 186

  MAGIC and Manufactures, 245

  Making them Useful, 90

  Man in the South (The), 129

  Man Makes the Tailor (The), 53

  March in November, 234

  "Masterly Inactivity," 174

  Mature Charms, 261

  May and December, 305

  Meeting of the Anti-Biographers, 105

  Message from the Sea (A), 294

  Misnomer, 228

  Misty Crystal (A), 214

  Moan of a Theatre-Manager (The), 41

  Moan of the Minor Poet (The), 42

  Modern Medusa (The), 270

  Modern Nymph's Reply to the Passionate Shepherd (The), 16

  Mot by a Member, 222

  Mr. Punch's Appeal--to Coal-Owners, Miners, and all whom it may
  Concern, 170

  Mrs. Nickleby in the Chair, 30

  Murch Praised, 277

  Muscular Education, 37

  Music and Law, 293

  Music for the Multitude, 49

  "My Cummerbund," 153

  My Gardeneress, 93

  My Landlord, 193

  My Pretty June, at a Later Season, 189

  Mystified, 216

  My Tenant, 193

  NAME! Name! 226

  Names for Other Names, 174

  Nautical Economy, 285

  N.B.! 214

  New King Coal, 74

  New King Coal Corrected, 118

  New Lights for Old, 273

  New Version, 273

  New Year's Eve at Latterday Hall, 304

  Ninth of November (The), 238

  Noble Organ-grinder (The), 217

  No Raison d'être! 216

  Not a Fair Exchange, 177

  Note by our own Philosopher, 207

  Novel Show (A), 121

  "OBERLAND" Route (The), 221

  Ode de Knill--and Co., 25

  Ode of Odours (An), 292

  Old "Adelphi Triumph" (An), 117

  Old and New School for Scandal, 249

  Old Man's Musings (An), 10

  One of the Maxims of Civilisation, 261

  "One-Horse" Householder, 89

  1,000,000 A.D., 250

  Only Fancy! 93

  Operatic Notes, 5, 17

  Ornithological Outburst (An), 257

  Orator "Pour Rire" (An), 21

  Our Barterers, 294, 310

  Our Booking-Office, 9, 52, 154, 198, 209, 237, 249, 253, 265, 285,
  293, 305

  Our Opera, 25

  "Over the Hills and Far Away!", 126

  "PAINLESS Dentistry," 133

  Palinode, 258

  "Paper of the Day after To-morrow" (The), 229

  "Pas Même Académecien!" 162

  "Pictures from 'Punch,'" 177

  "Piece and War!" at Drury Lane, 149

  Playing the Deuce at the Haymarket, 161

  "Play is not the Thing" (The), 22

  Plea for Pleading's (A), 277

  Poison in the Pump, 281

  Police Phrase-Book (The), 16

  Politics in South America, 125

  Popular Songs re-sung, 73, 241

  Precept and Practice, 213

  Preparing for Christmas, 226

  Prince Alexander of Battenberg, 253

  Profession of Journalism (The), 222

  Prophetic Diary of the L. C. C., 16

  Proprietors' Vade Mecum (The), 46

  Punch's "God-Speed" to the Pole Seekers, 22

  Q. E. D., 238

  Queer Cards, 246

  Queer English, 34

  Queer Queries, 36, 37, 135, 240

  Question of Tint (A), 217

  "Quiet Pipe" (A), 122

  Quoth Dunraven, Nevermore! 192

  RATHER Familiar! 255

  "Ready, Aye Ready!", 110

  Reign of Ringlets (The), 158

  Repartees for the Railway, 202

  "Resh'prosh'ty," 222

  Rex Lobengula, 243

  Rhodes to ----? 225

  Riflemen--"Form!" 165

  Rippin', 171

  Robert at Gildhall, 75

  Robert at the Manshun House, 17

  Robert on the Coming Sho, 221

  Robert's Puzzel, 261

  Rosebery to the Rescue! 15

  "Rule, Britannia!", 234

  Rule of the Sea (The), 57

  Rules of the Rude (The), 177

  "SAIL! a Sail!" (A), 78

  Saint Izaak and his Votaries, 62

  Schopenhauer Ballads (The), 57, 77

  Seasonable, 37, 234

  Seasonable Reflection, 297

  Seasonable Sayings, 298

  Seasonable Sonnet, 277

  Seasonable Vade Mecum (A), 305

  Seeing the Royal Wedding Presents, 28

  Self-Help, 205

  Sax Scotch Pipers (The), 195

  Shakspeare in London, 264

  Shooting the Chutes, 73

  "Single-Handed Run" (A), 267

  Sir Aquarius to the Rescue! 146

  Skinners and Skinned, 5

  "Social Test-Words," 121

  Song of the Autumn Session (The), 217

  Song of the Session (The), 3

  Song of the Shopkeeper (The), 29

  Sonnet, 111

  Spirit of Christmas Present (The), 306

  Star-Gazing, 183

  Still Wilder Ideas, 94

  Stormy Petrel (The), 66

  Stout Singer's Smile (The), 286

  Striker's Vade Mecum (The), 121

  Strike-ing Suggestion (A), 228

  Study in Brown (A), 309

  Study in Press-Land (A), 149

  Sub Judice, 3

  Surgeon-Major Parke, 138

  Sympathy, 42

  TALE of the Alhambra (A), 9

  Tea and Twaddle, 106

  "Tears, idle Tears!", 264

  Testimonial Manqué (A), 4

  Then and Now, 157

  Three Georges (The), 3

  Three Jovial Huntsmen (The), 134

  Three Tartars (The), 141

  Three V's (The), 210

  Through the Lock, 42

  To a Droshky-Driver, 41

  To a Fine Woman, 66

  To a Lady, 253

  To a Lost Friend, 201

  To a Parisienne, 53

  To a Swiss Barometer, 64

  To a Young Friend, aged Seven, 189

  To Bobby, 297

  To Doctor Falbe, 141

  To "Hans Breitmann," 192

  To Hebe, 229

  To Marjorie, 273

  Too Kind by Half, 39

  To the French Oarsmen, 5

  To the Sea, 229

  Tour that never was (The), 75

  Triolet, 269

  Trip-lets, 277

  True French Politeness, 114

  Trumps for Tramps, 87

  Trying her Strength, 102

  Turkish Occupation; or, Visions in Smoke (A), 26

  Turpin and Trains, 147

  Timon on Bimetallism, 65

  "'Twas in Trafalgar"'s Theatre, 293

  Two Pots, The, 75

  Two Views of Victory, 233

  Tyranny of the Unsuitable (The), 269

  ULSTERICAL Impromptu (An), 228

  Under the Rose, 112, 124, 136, 148, 160, 172, 184, 196, 208, 220,
  232, 244, 256, 268, 280

  Under the Roose, 1

  Union is (Logical) Weakness, 221

  University Intelligence, 277

  Upon Julia's Mother, 190

  "Usual Channel," (The), 90

  "VARIETY! Va-ri-e-ty!", 279

  Vision of Royalty (A), 27

  Visit to Borderland (A), 52

  "Voces Stellarum," 48

  Voice of the Thames (The), 45

  Volunteers' Vade Mecum (The), 29

  WALK in Devon (A), 202, 214

  Walking Englishwoman on the Alps, 77

  War in South America (The), 181

  Way they have in the City (A), 53

  "Way they have in the Navy" (The), 41

  Wear and Tear in Africa, 9

  Weather Wisdom, 269

  Were-Wolf (The), 290

  Westminster Play (The), 293

  What's in a Name? 33

  When the "Cat"'s Away, 206

  Who is it? 93

  Why Elinor is ever Young, 57

  Windy Corner at Brighton (A), 297

  "Wonder-Kid" (A), 269

  Woodman, spare those Trees! 166

  Words! Words! Words! 102

  Word to the Wise Wheelman (A), 219

  YORKSHIRE Victor, 113

  You never Wrote, 231


LARGE ENGRAVINGS.

  Alexander and Diogenes, 163

  "Bicycle built for Two" (A), 259

  Black Shadow (The), 211

  "Champion Shaver" (The), 283

  "Father William," 19

  "Forlorn Hope" (The), 151

  French Wolf and the Siamese Lamb (The), 55

  Handy Boy (The), 247

  "Hymen Hymenæe!" 7

  Lesson for "Labour" (A), 139

  Little Bill-ee! 115

  Little Master Minority, 199

  "L'Union fait la--Farce!" 187

  "Masterly Inactivity," 175

  "Message from the Sea" (A), 295

  Modern Medusa (The), 271

  Mrs. Nickleby in the Chair, 31

  "Over the Hills and Far Away!" 127

  Poor Victim (The), 91

  "Resh'prosh'ty," 223

  "Rule, Britannia!" 235

  "Sail! a Sail!" (A), 79

  Spirit of Christmas Present (The), 307

  Stormy Petrel (The), 67

  "Through the Lock," 43

  Trying her Strength, 103


SMALL ENGRAVINGS.

  Agatha and the Wall-paper, 106

  "Angels in the House," 47

  Apple Woman on Lady Salisbury, 171

  'Arry and Foreign Traveller, 12

  Authority on the "Buffer State" (An), 64

  Bachelor's Reason for Dancing, 29

  Baked-Potato Man on the Sands, 166

  Balfour and Treasury Babes, 254

  Bather trying to regain his Tent, 109

  Beater and the Serdlitz Pooder, 257

  Bertie "catches a Crab," 51

  British Lion and Matabele Behemoth (The), 182

  Brown getting out of Stream, 310

  Brown helping himself to everything, 138

  Brown's Corporation and its Cause, 22

  Bulky Bride leaving her Parents, 270

  Cabby and Clergyman, 168

  Canon's Introduction to a Lady, 210

  Chiffonniers on Hampstead Heath, 114

  Cleveland's Dance with Free Trade, 278

  "Committee Stage of the Home-Rule Bill," 59

  Complimenting an After-dinner Speaker, 286

  Conjugal Trouble about Christmas Present, 190

  Conscientious Hairdresser (A), 34

  Corpulent Sportsman's Symptoms, 113

  Counsel and Facetious Witness, 233

  County Councillor and Acoustics, 298

  Critic's Two Reviews (A), 277

  "Daily Graphic" Weather Lady, 153

  "Devil's Advocate" (The), 50

  Dining with the Odds and Ends, 165

  Divorce stands Lunch to Bankruptcy, 297

  Doctor Dulcamara and Mr. Punch, 218

  Doomed Bill (The), 119

  "Ears off in Front!" 121

  Electric Light in an Old House, 302

  Eton Boy and Pater's dear Luncheon, 66

  Excited Orchestral Conductor, 285

  Farmer Trencherman and the Curate, 169

  Father Thames Purified, 95

  Festive Babies, 282

  Football Match (A), 299

  Forgotten his Dress Coat, 25

  Friends in Editor's Sanctum, 58

  Gamekeeper and Captain's Language, 70

  Gate-Boy and Hunting Lady, 207

  German Teacher of English (A), 28

  Giant Beetle (The), 201

  Gladstone's "Long Break," 287

  Gladstone the Diver, 98

  Going to Cairo for Cheapness, 281

  Golf Meeting (A), 191

  Government Guillotine (The), 2

  "Happy Family" in Fret-Work (The), 71

  Harrow Scholar in Good Form, 238

  Hawkins and Merton at a Restaurant, 178

  Highland Corporal and Photographer, 86

  His Ancestor's Portrait, 195

  His Sister's Match-Maker, 82

  Holiday Dress in the House, 83

  Hostess of "Present-Day" Age, 63

  Housekeeper and Servants' Sweepstakes, 229

  Housemaid's Translation of "Salve," 222

  House of Apollo-ticians (A), 143

  "House Party" at Christmas, 303

  Icicle made for Two (An), 197

  Improbable Free Fight in the Lords, 131

  Indisposed Yachtsman's Resolutions, 65

  Influenzial House of Commons, 275

  Inspecting General and Yeoman, 15

  Irish Curate and the Doctor, 75

  Izaak Walton and his Votaries, 62

  "Joey" (Chamberlain) and the Hot Poker, 242

  Jones's Delicious Drink, 253

  Jones's visit to Prigglesby Manor, 90

  Laconic 'Bus-Driver (A), 27

  Lady Hypatia and the World at Large, 258

  Lady's Story after the Garden Party, 16

  Lady Vera flattering an Author, 274

  Lika Joko's Hunting Scene, 263

  Little Boy and the Martial Cloak, 117

  Little Old Woman and her Shoe, 86

  Local Hatter and Baronet, 94

  Local Mammoth's Neighbours (The), 292

  Looking at the Knight's Tomb, 150

  Lower Creation (The), 105, 111

  Mamma's Vaccination Sleeves, 3

  Marian not a fit Servant's Name, 202

  Master Bull's Sinking Ships, 110

  Master Jack out for Early Hunting, 154

  Mr. Punch and Coal-Owner and Miner, 170

  Mr. Punch at Edinburgh, 179

  Mr. Sinnick's Love for Babies, 246

  Mrs. Prickles and "Coals of Fire," 225

  Mrs. Ramsbotham and the Graces, 162

  Musicians in the Stalls, 159

  My Lady and Housemaid's Character, 54

  Naughty Boy and his Governess, 186

  Nervous Hunting Man and Lady Rider, 262

  New King Coal, 74

  News from the Law Courts, 237

  Not an Ornamental Bishop, 306

  Old Adonis and his Bust, 99

  Old Gent and Galloping Coach-Team, 81

  Old Huntsman's Law Reading, 291

  Old Keeper and Red-haired Fisher, 11

  "Out for an Otter-Day!" 189

  "Out! Her First Ball!" 1

  Painter and his Hostess, 78

  Papa putting on Mamma's Hair, 198

  Parliamentary Bear-Garden (A), 35

  Parliamentary Football Match, 266

  Parliament by Proxy, 227

  People who don't dine out on Sunday, 130

  Pheasant Shooting, 203

  Philanthropist and Small Boy's Parcel, 226

  Piping Satyr (A), 122

  Podgers and his Host's Shoes, 147

  Police Protection for Pianists, 217

  Portrait of Mr. Mince-Pie, 301

  Priceless Piece of English Coal (A), 192

  Railway Traveller and Dog, 177

  Rhodes, the Lion-Tamer, 230

  Ringlets again the Fashion, 158

  Rivals and the Fair Siamese, 38

  Rosebery to the Rescue! 14

  Scenes in the City, 239

  Scotch Counsel and Old Lady, 118

  Scotchman and the Rector, 45

  Scottish Political Pipers, 194

  Sea-side after Visitors are gone, 135

  Seedy Swell's Watch (A), 5

  Shadows on the Underground Railway, 181

  Shaftesbury Fountain (The), 181

  Shy Couple conversing on the Strike, 234

  Singing Captain and Ladies, 102

  Sir Aquarius and the Water-Snake, 146

  Sir Harry on his Rhinoceros, 216

  Sir Pompey and the French Baron, 46

  Sir Pompey's Acts of Charity, 30

  Sleeping Cat o' Nine Tails, 206

  Small Boy's Dilemma about Hunting, 267

  Smart Set at a Party (A), 6

  Snobley and the Sand Ponies, 123

  Spelling "Soda-water" with a Syphon, 141

  Sporting Farmer and 'Arry at the Hunt, 231

  Sportsman who has made a Mare, 243

  Spreading Himself Out, 305

  Squire and his Steward (A), 245

  Stag-Hunting, 215

  Stout Lady wanting Wings, 174

  Sultan and Khedive Smoking, 26

  Tailor's Lobengulous Customer, 250

  Telephoning Twins (The), 255

  Three Ministerial Huntsmen (The), 134

  Tiger and Bear at the Club, 173

  Tipsy Gent and Baker's Boy, 53

  Tipsy Undergraduate and the Major, 214

  Tommy's Ultimatum to his Nurse, 18

  Tourist Season (The), 107

  Tourist who didn't Shoot Anybody, 219

  Trafalgar Square of the Future, 251

  Two Golfers, 145

  Two Ladies and the Piano, 42

  Two Swells in the Rain, 193

  Two Unknown Painters, 61

  Very Nice to Departing Guests, 294

  Vicar's Cook and a Saved Sole, 142

  Wandering Minstrel and Sea-side Beauties, 126

  Wanting a Table d'Oat Dinner, 205

  Week of the Year (The), 23

  Were-Wolf of Anarchy (The), 290

  Who would be an M.P.? 155

  Who would not be an M.P.? 167

  Young Lady Making "Dinner Eyes," 39

  Young Lady's Jacket Puzzle, 237

  Young Muddleigh's Lady Love, 279

  Young Sportsman and the Bad Shot, 125

  Young Wife and Horse's Weight, 183

  Youthful Reprobate and the World, 265

  Youth who comes Home late (A), 49

[Illustration]

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LONDON; BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO., LIMITED, WHITEFRIARS.

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Transcriber's Note:

Page 306: "SANDSTONE" corrected to "SADSTONE", to fit context of
article.

"... to shed its lurid light on SADSTONE, as he came peeping round
the door."