BILLY and JOHNNIE were two little boys,
Who wearied of lessons, and tired of their toys.
Says BILLY, "I've hit on an excellent plan;
Let's go out in the cold, JOHN, and build a Snow Man!"
_Johnnie_ (_blowing his fingers_). Oh, I say, BILLY, isn't it cold,
either?
_Billy_ (_stamping_). _Is_ it, JOHNNIE? I haven't noticed it myself.
_Johnnie._ Oh, you're as hard as nails, _you_ are. _My_ fingers are
quite numb.
_Billy._ Then work away briskly. _That'll_ warm 'em! Snow's a bit less
binding than I expected to find it. Result of the severe frost, I
suppose. But peg away, and we shall podge it into shape yet, JOHNNIE.
_Johnnie._ Ye-e-e-s! (_Shivers_). But what--er--er--what pattern, or
plan, or model, have we--that--is--er--have _you_--er--decided on,
BILLY?
_Billy_ (_winking_). Well, that's as it happens, JOHNNIE! Remember the
one we built in '86--eh?
_Johnnie_ (_shuddering_). I should think I did. Don't mean to say
we're to go on _those_ lines again, BILLY?
_Billy._ I mean to _say_ nothing of the kind. Many things have
happened since then, JOHNNIE. For one thing, we've had heaps of
advice.
_Johnnie._ Hang it, yes! And where are the advisers? Standing aloof
and criticising our work--_in advance_. Where's that bold, blusterous,
bumptious Behemoth, BILL STEAD? Knew all about building Snow Men, _he_
did; had a private monopoly of omniscience in that, as in most other
things, BILL had. And now he's licking creation into shape for
six-pence a month, and shying stones at us whenever he sees a chance.
Little cocksure LABBY, too! Oh, _he_'s a nice boy! If BILL takes all
Knowledge for his province, HENRY considers himself sole proprietor of
_Truth_, and he lets us _have_ Truth--_his_ Truth--every week at
least--in hard chunks--that hurt horribly. All in pure friendliness,
too, as the Bobby said when he knocked the boy down to save him from
being run over. Gr-r-r-r! Believe he's hiding behind the hedge there,
with a pile of hard snowballs to pelt our Man out of shape as soon as
we've licked him into it--if ever we do. TEDDY REED, too, _he_'s
turned nasty, though he _does_ come from "gallant little Wales;" and
now here's WALLACE, the Scotch boy--though _he_ was all right
anyhow!--cutting up rough at the last moment, and complaining of our
Snow Man (which they've all been howling for for six years), because
he fancies its head is likely to be a little too Hibernian for his
Caledonian taste! Oh, they're a nice loyal, grateful lot, BILLY! And
where are the Irish bhoys themselves, in whose interests we are
freezing our fingers and nipping our noses? Standing off-and-on, as it
were, bickering like blazes among themselves, and only uniting to land
_us_ a nasty one now and then--just to encourage us!
_Billy_ (_patting and punching away vigorously_). Loyal? Grateful? Ah,
JOHNNIE, you don't understand 'em as well as I do. Cold has got on
your liver. You're a brave boy, JOHNNIE, but just a bit bilious.
Building Snow Men isn't just like arranging bouquets, my boy. Let them
bicker, JOHNNIE, and _listen to what they say_! It may all come in
handy by-and-by. We've had gratuitous advice and volunteer plans all
round, from ARTY BALFOUR and JOEY CHAMBERLAIN, as well as HENRY, and
TEDDY, and TIM and JOHN E., and the rest of 'em. Let them talk whilst
we build, JOHNNIE. 'Tis a cold, uncomfortable job, I admit; and
whether "friendly" advice or hostile ammunition will do us the most
damage I hardly know--yet. Fierce foes are sometimes easier to deal
with than friendly funkers. A "Thunderer" in open opposition affrights
a true Titan less than a treacherous Thersites in one's own camp. But,
JOHNNIE, we've got to build up this Snow Man somehow, and on some
plan! I only hope (_entre nous_, JOHNNIE) that a thaw won't set in,
and melt it out of form and feature before it is fairly finished!
[_Left hard at it._
[Illustration: THE SNOW MAN.]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A DISTINCTION AND A DIFFERENCE.
_Mr. Wilkins._ "BEG PARDON, SIR POMPEY, BUT COULD YOU TELL ME
WHO THAT YOUNG GEN'L'MAN IS YOU JUST TOOK OFF YER 'AT TO?"
_Sir Pompey_ (_pompously_). "HE'S NOT A GENTLEMAN AT ALL,
WILKINS. HE'S A NOBLE LORD--THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD VISCOUNT
SPEEDICUTTS--A FRIEND OF MINE."
_Mr. Wilkins._ "INDEED, SIR POMPEY! BUT, I S'POSE _SOME_ OF
'EM'S GEN'L'MEN, SOMETIMES?"]
* * * * *
Great consternation at hearing of the arrest of "M. BLONDIN" in
connection with the Panama scandals. Of course there can be only _one_
BLONDIN, and some wiseacres at once applied the proverb about "Give
him enough rope," &c. But BLONDIN never fell. It was quite another
BLONDIN. The Hero of Niagara was not the Villain of the Panama
piece--if villain he turn out to be. BLONDIN is still performing;
always walking soberly, though elevated, on the rope that is quite
tight. Maybe the rope gets tighter than ever at this jovial period,
but BLONDIN, _the_ BLONDIN, our BLONDIN'S acts are in the sight of
everybody, his proceedings are intelligible to all, though far above
the heads of the people.
***
Still, whatever financial accident may have happened to M. BLONDIN, he
has always kept his balance--on the rope.
* * * * *