Master John Bull. JUST YOU WAIT TWO OR THREE YEARS, TILL I MAKE HER SWIM,-THEN I'LL SHOW YOU!" [Sir EDWARD REED said that with the armoured citadel intact, and an | the same manner; the reason being that instead of the armed citadel being unarmoured end destroyed, the ship is in imminent danger of upsetting. The the major part of the structure, and the unarmoured ends the minor portion, Victoria was bound to capsize with the injury she received. There were we had chosen to make the unarmoured ends the major part, measuring more other ships that were equally bound to capsize, when they were injured in than half the entire length of the ship. The ships likely to capsize in a AIR-" Hearts of Oak." COME, cheer up, my lads! 'tis to Davy we steer! (We add to his Locker 'bout one ship per year.) To capsizing we call you in cheeriest staves, For what is so certain as death 'neath the waves? Iron coffins our ships, Death-doomed tars are our men. Our ships are unsteady! Ready, aye ready! We'll sink or turn turtle again and again! We ne'er see our ships (for which millions they pay), The Ajax, the Anson, and such, but we say, Will they ram, or capsize, or but run slap ashore ? Oar Camperdowns, Collingwoods, Rodneys, Benbows, The Frenchy and Rooshian must laugh as they look, Iron coffins our ships, &c. "Just wait two or three years," grumbles JOHN, "and I'll show, Britannia triumphant we all wish to see, Quite equal to two foreign fleets, perhaps three; (Meanwhile, my lads, "chorus as before," if you please, until further orders from our Naval Oracles!) Iron coffins our ships, In wessels unsteady, We're ready, aye ready, To sink or turn turtle again and again! LETTERS FOR THE SILLY SEASON. (Apparently intended for some of our Contemporaries.) SIR,-Of course I do not wish to be frivolous, but do you not think that "lovely," """ too sweet," "quite too darling," and other expressions in italics are miss-used words? At any rate, they are constantly in the mouths of my daughters and nieces. PATERFAMILIAS. Yours truly, SIR,-I give a list of misused words that have occurred to me during a month on the Continent. I put the words I consider inappropriately applied in italics. Paris is inexpensive, Boulogne is beautifui, Cologne is inodorous, German cookery is good, 'ARRY on his travels is pleasant, garlic is agreeable, hotel charges in Italy are moderate, railway travelling in Belgium is expeditious, washing-basins in Swiss hotels are large, a rough passage across the Channel is delightful, and the Continent is like home. I could extend the list indefinitely, but have written enough to show how imperfect the English language really is to convey accurately one's most ordinary ideas. I may add that when I have used and not misused words, I have been told that I have no right to swear-so what can I do ? Yours truly, COMMON SENSE. FAIRER subject never rose our graphic pens to task all, Than the presence (and paper) amidst the Children of Letters, the new Grub Street geniuses, the Poets and Press-men and pennya-liners, the Sages and "all the rages," the Naturalistic Novelists and New Humourists, the literary "Strong Men" and AntiSentimentalists, the Impressionists and Symbolists, and Stylists, and Superior Sniffers, and "Manly" Muse-hunters, and Mandespising Mugwumps, and Minor Minstrels and Minor-Minstrelflouters, and would-be Laureates, and would-be-laureate-exterminators, and Mummer-Idolators and Mummer-Iconoclasts, and Up-to-date Oracles, and Fin-de-siècle obscurantists, of the pyramidal author of Dr. Pascal! MOTTO OF OUR MILITARY AUTHORITIES.-"Put up your Dukes!" UNDER THE ROSE. (A Story in Scenes.) SCENE I-A decorously-furnished Drawing-room at Hornbeam Lodge, Clapham, the residence of THEOPHILUS TOOVEY, Esq. It is Sunday evening. Mr. ToovEY, an elderly Gentleman with a high forehead, a rabbit mouth, and a long but somewhat wispy beard, is discovered sitting alone with a suitable book, upon which he is endeavouring to fix his thoughts, apparently without success. Mr. Toovey (reading). "With what a mixture of indescribable emotions did I find myself actually standing upon the very brink" (To himself, as he puts the volume down.) It's no use, I can't concentrate my mind on Palestine to-night, I can't forget this horrible "Eldorado." Ever since I got that official warrant, or demand, or whatever it was, yesterday, I've been haunted by the name. It seems to meet me everywhere; even on the very hoardings! Why, why didn't I invest Aunt ELIZA's legacy in consols, as CORNELIA told me, instead of putting it into a gold-mine? I think LARKINS said it was a gold-mine. If only I had never met him that day last year-but he seemed to think he was doing me such a favour in letting me have some of his shares at all; he'd been allotted more than he wanted, he told me, and he was so confident the Company was going to be a success that I -and now, after hearing nothing all this time, I'm suddenly called upon to pay a hundred and seventy-five pounds, and that's only for one half year, as far as I can make out. .. How can I draw a cheque for all that without CORNELIA finding out? I never dared tell her, and she overlooks all my accounts. Why did I, who have never been a follower after Mammon, fall so easily into that accursed mine? I am no business man. All the time I was a partner in that floorcloth factory, I never interfered in the conduct of it, beyond signing my name occasionally-which was all they allowed me to do and they took the earliest opportunity of buying me out. And yet I must needs go and speculate with Aunt ELIZA's five hundred pounds, and-what is worse lose every penny, and more! I, a Churchwarden, looked up to by every member of an Evangelical congregation, the head of a household like this! How shall I ever tell CORNELIA? And yet I must-I never had a secret from her in my life. I shall know no peace till I have confessed all. I will confess-this very night-when we are alone. If I could speak to CHARLES first, or to that young Mr. CURPHEW-they will both be here to supper and CHARLES is in a Solicitor's office. But my nephew is too young, and Mr. CURPHEW, though he is a journalist, is wise and serious beyond his years-and if, as CORNELIA thinks, he is beginning to feel a tenderness for ALTHEA, why, it might cause him to reconsider his- No, I can't tell anyone but my wife. (Sounds are heard in the hall.) There they are!-they are back from Church-already! (He catches up his book.) I must try to be calm. She must not notice anything at present! recent commercial disasters, and the sinfulness of speculation in professing Christians. I wish you could have heard him. Mr. T. (squirming). A-a deprivation indeed, my love. But I was better at home-better at home. Mrs. T. You will have other opportunities; he announces a course of weekday addresses, at the Mission Rooms, on "The Thin End of the Wedge of Achan." CHARLES, I gave you one of the circulars to carry for me. Where is it? Charles. In my overcoat, I think, Aunt. Shall I go and get it? [ALTHEA enters. Mrs. T. Not now; I haven't my spectacles by me. THEA, did you tell PHOEBE to pack your trunk the first thing to-morrow? Althea. Yes, Mamma; but there is plenty of time. CECILIA doesn't expect me till the afternoon. Charles. So THEA's going up to town for a few days' spree, eh, Aunt CORNELIA? Mrs. T. (severely). Your cousin is going on a visit to a married schoolfellow, who is her senior by two or three years, and who, I understand, was the most exemplary pupil Miss PRUINS ever had. I have no doubt Mrs. MERRIDEW will take ALTHEA to such entertain "How shall I ever tell Cornelia?" Mrs. T. (outside). I've left my things downstairs, PHOEBE; you can take them up to my room. (Entering.) Well, Pa, I hope you feel less poorly than you did, after your quiet evening at home? Mr. T. flurried). Yes, my love, yes. I-I've had a peaceful time with Peregrinations in Palestine. A-a most absorbing book, my love. Mrs. T. You would find it more absorbing, Pa, if you held it the right way up. You've been asleep! Mr. T. No, indeed, I only wish I-that is-I may have dropped off for a moment. Charles (who has followed his Aunt). You wouldn't have had much chance of doing that if you'd been at Church, Uncle! Mrs. T. No, indeed. Mr. PowLES preached a most awakening discourse, which I am glad to find CHARLES appreciated. Charles. I meant the cushion in your pew, Uncle; you ought to have it restuffed. It's like sitting on a bag of mixed biscuits! Mrs. T. We do not go to Church to be comfortable, CHARLES. Pa, Mr. PowLES alluded very powerfully, from the pulpit, to the ments as are fit and proper for her picture galleries, museums, concerts, possibly a lecture-but I should not describe that myself as a "spree." Charles. No more should I, Aunt, not by any means. Mrs. T. I never met this Mrs. MERRIDEW, but I was favourably impressed by the way she wrote. A very sensible letter. Alth. (to herself). Except the postscript. But I didn't like to show Mamma that! Charles. But you'll go to a theatre or two, or a dance, or something, while you're with her, won't you? [ALTHEA tries to signal to him to be silent. Mrs. T. CHARLES, you forget where you are. A daughter of ours set foot in a playhouse! Surely you know your Uncle's objection to anything in the nature of a theatrical entertainment? Did he not write and threaten to resign the VicePresidency of the Lower Clapham Athenæum at the mere hint of a performance of scenes from some play by that dissolute writer SHERIDAN-even without costumes and scenery? His protest was most admirably worded. I remember I drafted it myself. Mr. T. (with some complacency). Yes, yes, I've always been extremely firm on that subject, and also on the dangers of dancing-indeed, I have almost succeeded in putting an entire stop to the children dancing to piano-organs in the streets of this neighbourhood-a most reprehensible custom! Mrs. T. Yes, THEOPHILUS, and you might have stopped it long before you did, if you had taken my suggestion earlier. I hope I am not to infer, from your manner, that you are yourself addicted to these so-called pleasures, CHARLES? Charles. Dancing in the street to a piano-organ, Aunt? Never did such a thing in my life! Mrs. T. That was not my meaning, CHARLES, as you very well know. I hope you employ your evenings in improving your knowledge of your profession. I should be sorry to think you frequented theatres. Charles (demurely). Theatres? rather not, Aunt, never go near 'em. (To himself.) Catch me going where I can't smoke! (Aloud.) You see, when a fellow has lodgings in a nice cheerful street in Bloomsbury, it isn't likely he'd want to turn out of an evening after sticking hard at the office all day! Mrs. T. I am glad to hear you say so, CHARLES. It is quite a mistake for a young man to think he cannot do without amusement. Your Uncle never thought of amusing himself when he was youngor our married life would not be what it is. And look at Mr. CURPHEW, who is coming in to supper to-night, see how hard he works-up to town every afternoon, and not back till long after midnight. [The bell rings. Charles. Rather queer hours to work, Aunt. Are you sure he doesn't go up just to read the paper? Althea (with a slight flush). He goes up to write it, CHARLES. Mr. CURPHEW is on the press, and has taken rooms here for the air of 2 the Common. And-and he is very clever, and works very hard indeed; you can see that from his looks. Phoebe (announcing). Mr. CURPHEW. [A tall slim young man enters, with a pale, smooth-shaven face, and rather melancholy eyes, which light up as he greets ALTHEA. Mrs. T. How do you do, Mr. CURPHEW? You are a little late-but some services last longer than others. Oh, PHOEBE, now I think of it, just bring me a paper you will find in one of the pockets of Mr. COLLIMORE'S overcoat; it's hanging up in the hall-the drab one with grey velvet on the collar. (PHOEBE goes.) It's a circular, Mr. CURPHEW, which was given out in our Church this evening, and may interest you to see. Phoebe (returning). If you please, m'm, this is the only paper I could find. Mrs. T. (taking it from the salver, without looking at it). Quite right, Phoebe-we shall be ready for supper when I ring. When PHOEBE has gone.) I can't see anything without my- ALTHEA, just go and see if I have left my spectacle-case in my room, my dear. It's astonishing how they're always getting mislaid, and I'm so helpless without them. (ALTHEA goes.) Mr. CURPHEW, perhaps you will read this aloud for me; 1 want my husband to hear. a Curphew (suppressing slight start). May I ask if they distribute papers of this sort at your Church-and-and why you think it is likely to interest me in particular? (To himself.) Wonder if this can be a trap! SOMETHING WRONG SOMEWHERE. September 1. Partridge Shooting. YORKSHIRE VICTOR. FAREWELL to eminence attained of yore, Great Surrey heads the County For though you give a RICH- Though one was sorely missed, Can tell where they'd have been In 1893, perforce, makes way This famous county of the For many a season past the Has dogged their steps, though not decreased their pluck; And though each cricketer may have his likes, There's not a man who'll not say-Well-played, Tykes! COPHETUA, L.C.C. MR. GRANT ALLEN charges London with being "a squalid village." Sir LEPEL GRIFFIN suggests that the "Postprandial Philosopher" must have been dining badly. He-Sir LEPEL-Contends that "Like the beggar-maid in Mr. BURNEJONES's picture, London is a beautiful woman, fair of face and noble of form, and only needs the transforming hand of some future King COPHETUA to strip her of her sordid rags, and clothe her in the lustrous raiment which befits her." Old Twentystun (reviewing his symptoms). "DEAR ME! Mos' 'STRAOR- This is what 'ARRY would call DINARY, THIS SHORTNESS O' BREATH. LE' ME SEE 'GOOD PLAIN FOOD AND "the straight Griffin"! By BEST QUALITY O' DRINK,' DOCTOR SAID. THA'S ALL RIGHT-NEVER STINTED all means make CoOPHETUA MYSELF FOR EITHER. 'NEVER OVERDO YOURSELF,' SAYS HE. HAVEN'T. Chairman of the London NEVER WALKED A STEP IF I COULD HEIP IT SINCE LAST SEASON. 'Go To County Council-as soon BED EARLY.' So I HAVE, AND NEVER HURRIED UP EITHER. Mos' 'STRA- you find him! Sir LEPEL, inORDINARY! Mos' 'STRAORDINARY!" [Goes home to consult Doctor again. stead of joining in the parrotchorus of disparagement, actually says, "The best hope of the regeneration of London is in the County Council"!!! He thinks "it is a mistake" to distrust them, and would hand over to them (says the Daily Chronicle) most of the machinery and material of our municipal life. Quite so. And as the Gryphon (which is much the same thing as Griffin) said to the Mock Turtle (suggestive this of the Civic Corporation), in Alice in Wonderland, Punch would say to Sir LEPEL or his problematic COPHETUA, "Drive on, old fellow! Don't be all day about it!" Mrs. T. (taking back the document, and holding it close to her nose). Gracious goodness! this isn't the CHARLES, perhaps you will explain how you come to have a paper in your pocket covered with pictures of females in shamelessly short skirts? Charles (to himself). In for a pie-jaw this time! What an owl that girl is (Aloud.) It's only a programme, Aunt; thing they give you at a music-hall, you know. Mrs. T. (in an awful voice). Only a programme! Pa, tell this unhappy boy your opinion of his conduct! Mr. T. (rising magisterially). CHARLES, am I to understand that a nephew of mine allows himself to be seen in a disreputable resort such as Charles. Oh come, Uncle, you can't know much about the Eldorado, if Mr. T. (with a bound). The Eldorado. How dare you bring that name up here, Sir? What do you mean by it? Charles (surprised). Why, you must have heard of it-it's one of the leading music-halls. Mr. T. (gasping). A music-hall? the Eldorado! (To himself.) If it should turn out to be-but no, my nerves are upset, it can't be -and yet-what am I to say to him? [He falls back into his chair with a groan. Mrs. T. CHARLES, if you can stand there and feel no shame when you see how disturbed and disgusted even Mr. CURPHEW looks, and the agitated state to which you have reduced your poor Uncle, you must indeed be hardened! [CURPHEW has considerately walked to the window; Mr. TooVEY endeavours to collect his faculties; CHARLES looks from one to the other in bewilderment. END OF SCENE I. as What! When ALICE ventured to say she had never heard of "Uglification," the Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise. Never heard of uglifying!" it exclaimed. "You know what to beautify is, I suppose ?"-"Yes," said ALICE, doubtfully; "it means-to-make-anything-prettier."-"Well, then," the GRYPHON (who must have been a Postprandial Philosopher, surely) went on. "if you don't know what to uglify is, you must be a simpleton." By the way, why should not Sir LEPEL himself essay the role of King COPHETUA, L.C.C., and help to beautify the modern Babylonian beggar-maid? He says that the general administration of London is infinitely mean and inefficient," adding that "vested interests are chiefly to blame for the national disgrace." Very well. Let Sir LEPEL help to give those same Vested Interests" vun in the veskit," squelch the Jerry Builder, and arrest the march of "Uglification," and then-why then London will, as in duty bound. erect his statue in place, and on the site of, that other, and very different "Griffin," which is the very incarnation of Uglification, and material embodiment of Boeotian Bumbledom! NOT THE GIRL FOR HOT WEATHER.-One who "makes sunshine in a shady place." LITTLE BILL-EE. (Latest House of Lords' Version of Thackeray's Song.) THERE were three sailors of London City, Who took a boat and went to sea: There was guzzling Boв and gorging HARTY, And the youngest-he was Poor Little BILL-EE was but a sailor-boy, And a very hard time in sooth had he. With a rope's-end he was fully familiar. And a marline-spike he shuddered to see. He had sailed in the ship of one Captain WILLYUM. Who had taught him sailing, and algebree, The use of the sextant, and navigation, Likewise the hornpipe, and fiddle-de-dee. The Captain's pet for a long, long voyage Had been this sailor - boy Though some of the crew of the same were jealous, And larruped him sore-on the strict Q.T. But being paid off from WILLYUM'S Wessel. The kid was kidnapped, and taken to sea By guzzling BOB and gorging HARTY, Who had long had their eye on poor Little BILL-EE. For guzzling BOB hated Captain WILLYUM, While gorging HARTY-well, there, you see, He'd been WILLYUM's mate, but had cut the connection, And he couldn't abide poor Little BILL-EE. Poor Little BILL-EE, he shrank and shuddered At going aboard; for he says, says he "When they get me aloft they will spifflicate me, HAPPY THOUGHT. " TRUE FRENCH POLITENESS. (A Conversation not entirely Imaginary in Siamese Territory.) SCENE-A Palace. Present, a and swarthy Sovereign Smiling Negociator. Negociator. Sorry to trouble you again, your Majesty, but there are just a few supplementary matters that require settlement. Sovereign. Why, surely your ultimatum has deprived me of everything? Neg. Oh, dear no! For instance, you have foreign advisers. Sov. And I presume I may act upon their advice? Neg. Well, yes; only it will be necessary to send them back to Europe, and then stop their letters. Sov. But this will be exceedingly arbitrary treatment. Neg. Do you think so? Well, at any rate it will be better than a bombardment of your capital. Sov. Have you any other demand to make ? Neg. Scarcely worth mentioning. But we must insist that in future all work must be given to artisans of our nationality. Sov. And every other kind of contract ? Neg. That follows as a natural sequence. Sov. Would you like anything more? Neg. Not only like, but insist upon having it. You must surrender your forts, disband your army, and dispose of your fleet. Sov. Come, that's impossible! Neg. Not at all. It is a course I would strongly recommend if you want to keep your throne, and your subjects desire to preserve their lives. Sov. Can you suggest anything else ? Neg. We never suggest. We order. Well, yes, you will do nothing without our approval, WHY NOT IMPORT A BRIGADE OF RESPECTABLE "CHIFFONNIERS And there'll be an end of poor Little He is a noosance, he'll be a riddance, BILL-EK!" And we'll both get thanked for devouring he." To guzzling BOB says gorging HARTY, On this here pint we both agree This precious Bill must be spifflicated, And we're both hungry, so let's eat he!" Sov. Why, this is absolute bullying! Neg. Pray don't say that, your Majesty. Although I speak plainly, I wish to treat you with every respect. Sov. But if you have left me nothing, I may as well abdicate in your favour. Shall I? Neg. You will do as you like, your Majesty. My instructions are to treat your will as law. I have no wish to control your actions, as I accept you as the constitutional Sovereign of an independent state. Do what you please, and what pleases you will please me also. My instructions are to give you entire freedom of action-so long as that freedom chimes in with our requirements! [Scene closes upon the pleasing proceedings. PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL.-Mr. BIGG STUFFER writes to us, "I see the Princess and her daughters visited the grandest gorge in Norway. Well, after a day's touring with my friend GRUBBER, I think the pair of us will show any traveller about the biggest gorge anywhere." |