people, not to look behind the curtain where _Raoul_ is hidden? What
have the nuns to do with the blessing of the daggers? Wouldn't they be
rather in the way in a conspiracy?
On what storey does the action of Act IV. take place, and what is the
height from the ground that _Raoul_ has to leap when he jumps out of
the window?
There used to be a Fifth Act, with a grand _trio_ and _chorale_,
what has become of it? If played, does anyone stop to hear it? If not
played, can audience sue the management, or demand their money back?
[Illustration: Unexpected effect. Sudden appearance of representative
of Katti Lanner.]
_Thursday._--Memorable for two _rentrees_ and one first appearance.
_Rentree_ of Madame ETELKA GERSTER, _rentree_ of RAVELLI, and first
appearance, on stage, this season, of Covent Garden Cat. Trying
position for the sleep-walking heroine in bed-room scene, when the
Covent Garden Cat (who was in front last Tuesday night, when she ran
round the ledge of the pit tier in humble imitation of little LAURIE
at Pantomime time) suddenly rushes from under the bed, and after
nearly frightening into fits naughty little LISA BAUERMEISTER, who
happens to be hiding there, walks with tail erect quietly across
the stage, and makes a good exit R. 2. E. Count EDOUARD, in
commencement-of-nineteenth-century hat and coat, finished off with
trousers and patent-leather boots of date A.D. 1890, much amused.
_Amina_ supposed to be walking in her sleep, can't possibly take
notice of animal, but House in chuckles, as an audience always is,
whenever the harmless and quite unnecessary cat appears upon the
stage. _Rentree_ of RAVELLI, in first-rate voice. Everyone charmed
with him, and with NED DE RESZKE. Signor RINALDINO an amusing
_Alessio_, and Madame SINICO tunefully affectionate as the devoted and
sympathetic Mamma of the Aminable heroine. Melodies of our childhood,
delightful to hear them again; and the good old-fashioned Italian
Opera terminations to the choruses admirably rendered.
_Friday._--"_Dr. Faust_, I presume?" I wasn't there. Opera went on, I
believe, in my absence.
_Saturday._--_La Traviata._ ELLA RUSSELL at her best. Tenor MONTARIOL
not quite at his best as that despicable character _Alfredo_. M.
PALERMINI (why not "Old Pal"?) very good as _Giorgio Germont_. The
magnificently-attired chorus enjoy themselves amazingly at supper in
Act I., for _Violetta_, when she does do the thing, does it well, and
there are certainly not less than four bottles of champagne among a
hundred guests.
_Questions for Examination Paper._--At whose house does this
supper-party take place? Why do all the guests leave at once? Why is
everyone in a Charles the Second costume except _Violetta_, who is
in fashionable evening dress of 1890? Who is the young lady whom
_Violetta_ so affectionately kisses? and what, if anything, has she to
do with the plot?
_In Act III._--Is it a _bal masque_? If not, what is it, and where?
What is the simple game of cards which _Alfredo_ plays with such
enthusiasm? Who wins? and how much?
* * * * *
[Illustration: CAUTION.
_Married Sister._ "AND OF COURSE, LAURA, YOU WILL GO TO ROME OR
FLORENCE FOR YOUR HONEYMOON?"
_Laura._ "OH DEAR, NO! I COULDN'T THINK OF GOING FURTHER THAN THE ISLE
OF WIGHT WITH A MAN I KNOW LITTLE OR NOTHING OF!"]
* * * * *
"DOUBTFUL!"
OWNER.
OUR Stable's a bit out of form
(Says more than one usual backer),
The pace will be made pretty warm,
And the finish will be a rare cracker.
By Jove! we must put our best goods in the front,
Or possibly we may be out of the hunt.
TRAINER.
Come, Sir, don't go talking like that!
Cantankerous critics will chatter.
Our 'osses can go a rare "bat,"
Theirs funk it, Sir! _That's_ what's the matter!
Eh, RITCHIE, my boy? Oh, the crack that you ride
Will _go_, when he once settles into his stride.
JOCKEY.
My opinion's of little account,
But I don't mind admitting, yer honour,
I am _not_ dead nuts on my mount.
Some say he's as good as a goner.
Though the Witlers are on him, of course, to a man,
His own brother warn't placed the one time as he ran.
OWNER.
The _Brother Bung_ stock, _entre nous_,
All show soft, when it comes to close racing.
This horse looks a bit of a "screw,"--
There, GOSCHEN, no need for grimacing.
I mean no offence; he's well trained, and _might_ win;
But--well, backers seem cautious in planking their tin.
TRAINER.
Humph! Pencillers _have_ been at work;
They'll muck the nag's chance, if they're able.
Fatty CAINE--the fanatical shirk!--
Seems inclined to abandon the Stable.
But still _Compensation's_ a horse to my mind.
He will finish with fewer before than behind.
OWNER.
Ah! but that's not quite good enough, G.
Just now what we want's a clear winner.
Our new string of cracks numbers three;
There's _Tithe_ (who's a timid beginner),
_Land Purchase_, a nailer, and this, your pet nag.
The question is, which is the best of the bag?
_Land Purchase_, now, comes of sound stock
(By _Tenant-Right_ out of _Coercion_),
And then I've such faith in his Jock!
Nay, RITCHIE, I mean no aspersion.
You ride very nicely indeed for a "pup;"
But BALFOUR! All's right when the cry's "ARTHUR'S Up!"
JOCKEY.
Oh! he's a fair scorcher, a brick,
With the long legs--and luck--of the "Tinman."
But when of the mounts you've the pick,
It's hard if you can't score a win, man.
You stick me on _Land Purchase_, guv'nor, and see
If the "pup," as you call him, ain't in the first three!
OWNER.
Ah, there it is, GOSCHEN, you know;
That justifies what I was saying.
I fancy this animal's slow,
Not sure that his specialty's staying.
I think, if we value our Stable--and tin--
That we should declare with _Land Purchase_ to win.
[_Left discussing it._
* * * * *
DERBY DISAPPOINTMENTS.
To go to Epsom with a view to a day's enjoyment.
To imagine that there is any sport on the road down, and ditto
returning.
To believe that a heavy lunch of lukewarm lobster salad and simmering
champagne can be taken with impunity.
To fancy that one can get into a train bound for the Downs without
losing one's temper.
To think that there is any fun in listening to the ribald songs of
street nigger minstrels and Shoreditch gipsies.
To expect that, after taking part in half a dozen drag sweeps, any one
of them will turn up trumps.
To presume that you will neither be choked with dust nor drenched with
rain before you get home.
Lastly, to back the Winner for L10,000, payable by the Bank of
England, to draw the right number at all the West-End Clubs to which
you belong, becoming in consequence betrothed to the only and lovely
daughter of a millionnaire Duke, and then (on waking) to find it all a
dream!
* * * * *
[Illustration: "DOUBTFUL!"
LORD SALISBURY (_to Trainer_). "H'M!--DON'T QUITE LIKE THE LOOK OF
HIM. BETTER DECLARE TO WIN WITH _LAND PURCHASE_!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: A WARNING IN WAX.
WHAT THE STATUE LOOKED LIKE WHEN IT LEFT THE SCULPTOR'S HAND FOR
EXHIBITION.
ITS APPEARANCE WHEN THE BRITISH PUBLIC HAD ASCERTAINED, BY EXPERIMENT,
THAT IT REALLY WAS IN WAX.]
* * * * *
THE BALLAD OF THE EARL'S BREEKS.
"I am wearing a pair of Co-operative trousers."--_Lord
Rosebery, at Congress of Delegates from the Co-operative
Societies of Great Britain and Ireland, meeting at Glasgow._
TALK of Dual Garmenture! Here's a picture, to be sure,
That a pleasanter, more potent lesson teaches.
Croakers given to foolish fright might take courage at the sight
Of Lord ROSEBERY'S Co-operative Breeches!
For our Earl's a canny chief, and the timidest must feel
That by what he advocates no sort of hurt is meant;
And if anybody wants true co-operative pants,
He'll be glad to read Lord ROSEBERY'S advertisement.
Co-operation now frightens very few, I trow,
(Who wear trousers); but a few years earlier? Bless us!
Such breeks would have been bogies to a lot of frightened fogies,
They would just as soon have donned the shirt of Nessus.
Now an Earl to Glasgow goes, 'midst the men once thought our foes,
And about Co-operation learns--and also teaches;
And receives with genial glee from the Tweed Society
A pair of Tweed Co-operative Breeches!
Why eighty-six per cent. (at Clackmannan) are intent,
(Nearly nine-tenths of all its population),
In a fashion fair as stout, upon fully working out
The principles of true Co-operation.
Yet there are no earthquakes there, and Lord ROSEBERY in the chair
At the Congress of Co-operative Delegates,
Talks in tones of hearty cheer, and the very thought of fear
To a Limbo Fatuorum calmly relegates.
Members One million men, with a capital of _Ten_,
And an annual sale of close on _Thirty Seven_!
Two millions more each year! Yes, it's truly pretty clear
That the State feels the co-operative leaven.
And though it is mere hum to see the Millennium,
Because Co-operators cheerfully co-operate,
Yet it _is_ a mighty movement, and our hopes of Earth's improvement
May rise with it, at a prudent and a proper rate.
Pooh! the pessimistic dreams of pragmatical Earl WEMYSS
May well excite this sager Earl's derision.
Forty Millions total profit! No, we are _not_ nearing Tophet,
Any more than we are touching realms Elysian.
Those on Co-Ops so sweet and shopkeepers need not treat
Each other like the cats of old Kilkenny,
From each other they might learn, live together and all turn,
With sagacity and skill, an honest penny.
There's no need for any gush, but "The Principle" will push
As Lord ROSEBERY foreshadows to high places;
And it was not all his fun when he hinted we might run
Our Empire on co-operative bases!
They who want to understand what is stirring in the land,
Should peruse PRIMROSE'S pithiest of speeches,
Meanwhile _Punch_ drinks good health to the "Labourer's Commonwealth,"
And long wear to those Co-operative Breeches!
* * * * *
WEEK BY WEEK.
_Monday._--Preparing for the Derby. Mr. STANLEY goes out of his way to
meet Lord SALISBURY. Lord SALISBURY goes out of Mr. H. M. S's. way.
_Tuesday._--More preparations for Derby.
_Wednesday._--The Derby. _Mr. Punch_ out for the day. Party at Foreign
Office to meet Mr. STANLEY unavoidably postponed.
_Thursday._--Trying to recover from Derby Day.
_Friday._--Private Eclipse of the Sun. For tickets to view, inquire
at Timekeeper's Office, Charing Cross. Only a limited number will be
issued.
_Saturday._--Lord SALISBURY'S first dance to meet Mr. STANLEY.
* * * * *
SOCIAL festivities which were much disturbed by the Whitsuntide
holidays, have now been resumed in all their splendour. The Mile
End Athenaeum yesterday held their annual reception in the palatial
institution designed for the accommodation of the intellectual
_elite_ of the district. The rooms were crowded from an early hour.
Proceedings began with an address on "The AEsthetic Position of Mile
End," delivered by the President. This was followed by some graceful
step-dancing, executed by two stars from the neighbouring Hall
of Variety. Later on the guests, having, as is usual, exchanged
over-coats, and tossed with the Club halfpenny for umbrellas,
separated to their homes.
* * * * *
Lady CLEMENTINA CROPPER has issued cards for a musical evening at
which all the most eminent performers are expected. The Whistling
Quintette and the Whispering Choir have been engaged. Her Ladyship's
parties are famous for the animation and brilliancy of their
conversation.
* * * * *
It is understood that the Stewards of the Jockey Club at their last
meeting resolved to suppress the use of all strong language on Derby
Day. Any owner discovered in the act of saying "blow" will be confined
to barracks for a fortnight. Anything more violent will involve
perpetual suspension, with the loss of all the privileges of a British
Citizen. Any jockey denouncing his neighbour's eyes will be converted
into an automatic toffee-distributor. If he repeats the offence, he
will be forbidden to vote at the next County Council Election. These
salutary regulations will be strictly enforced.
* * * * *
The Railway Companies anticipate no difficulty in conveying visitors
to Epsom within two hours of the time fixed for their arrival. Much
interest attaches to some novel experiments in shunting, which are
to be carried out between Epsom and London to-day. The point is to
discover whether an excursion train loaded with passengers at the
rate of thirty to a carriage designed for eight, can be shunted into
a siding so as to clear an express moving at a constant velocity of
fifty miles an hour, drinks included. The pace of the excursion train
may be neglected in the solution of the problem.
* * * * *
"I have never understood," says a Correspondent, who signs himself
"PUZZLED," "why a dog should always use his left hind-leg for the
purpose of scratching his left ear, and _vice versa_ his right leg for
his right ear. Can any of your readers enlighten me?"
* * * * *
GROSVENOR GEMS. (SECOND VISIT.)
[Illustration: No. 180. Littler and Littler.]
[Illustration: No. 36. W. Qrious Jaundiceson, R.A.]
[Illustration: No. 140. "Mr. Stanley, I presume?"]
[Illustration: No. 102. Marvellous Acrobatic Feat.]
[Illustration: No. 109. The Dairy Maid and the Butteries.]
* * * * *
EXCHELSIOR!
TOLD that I can "assist the progress of Military Science" if I go up
in a "War Balloon" at Chelsea. Don't know anything about ballooning,
but do want to assist Military Science.
Arrive at Chelsea Exhibition Grounds. See the Balloon being inflated.
Disappointed, as a "War Balloon" seems to be exactly the same as a
Peace Balloon. Expected it to be armour-plated, or fitted with aerial
torpedoes, or something of that sort. Ask Professional Aeronaut if I
mayn't take a bomb up with me, and drop it, as practice for war time?
Aeronaut scowls fiercely. Asks, "If I want to blow the Balloon to
smithereens?" Also asks, "If I have any bombs about me now?" Looks as
if he would like to search me! Drop the subject--not the bomb. Still,
I _should_ like to know how I can "assist Military Science." Take my
place in car nervously.
Somebody shouts, "Let go!" What an extraordinary sensation! Feel as if
I had suddenly left digestive portion of my anatomy a mile below me.
Have felt same sort of thing in crossing Channel. Look over edge
of car. Appalling! Wish I hadn't been such a fool as to come. Ask
Professional Aeronaut, "What would happen if a rope broke now?"
He replies, sulkily, "your neck would break too." Not comforting.
Question is--How long will this last without my being sea-sick?
Also, How am I "assisting progress of Military Science?" Balloon
calmer, and _not_ wobbling, thank Heaven! Begin to enjoy the view. How
beastly cold it is up here, though! Passing over St. Paul's--suggest
to fellow passenger that with a bomb, or better still a pistol, one
could "pot" the Dome. Passenger (funny man) says, "Why not try a
para_shoot_?" I laugh heartily, and nearly fall over side. Aeronaut,
roughly, "wishes to goodness I'd keep still." _I_ wish to goodness
he'd make the Balloon keep still--don't say this, however.
Somewhere over Essex. See distant sea. Aeronaut says, "There's no end
of a wind springing up." Heavens! Believe we are drifting out to
sea! But I didn't want to "assist progress of _Naval_ Science"--only
"Military." Tell Aeronaut this. He says, he's "just going down." Talks
as if he were "going down" to breakfast--after "getting up," as we
have done! Rather a good joke for mid-air. But is it mid-air? We are
descending rapidly. Digestion this time left up in clouds. Tearing
along over fields. Balloon pitching and tossing violently. Grapnel
thrown out. Catches a cow. Cow runs with us. Idiot! Why can't it stand
steady?
Awful crash! Bump, bang, whack! Balloon explodes with fearful report.
Yet no reporters present! Remember nothing more. Wake up, and find
myself in Hospital of an Essex town. Query--Have I, or have I not,
"assisted the progress of Military Science?"
* * * * *
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
_The Marsh King's Daughter._ One of WARNE & CO.'S publications for
children's amusement, but the illustrations by JESSIE CURRIE are
too highly curried, or rather coloured, and the effect is hard and
theatrical. By the way, Miss CURRIE'S genius is a trifle wilful;
for example, take this situation, which she has chosen to
illustrate,--"She ... pointed to a horse. He mounted upon it, and she
sprang before him, and held tightly by the mane." Now, asks the Baron,
taking for granted the "sprang" is for "sprang up," how would ordinary
talent depict this scene? Why, certainly, by showing the girl mounted
on the horse, holding on by the mane in front of the man, and the man
up behind. Not so Miss CURRIE. She puts the good man--apparently
an Amateur Monk--astride the horse, and she riding behind, holding
lightly as it appears, with one hand the broad red crupper, and, with
the other, probably, some portion of the Amateur Monk's dressing-gown.
But genius must not be fettered.
_AEsop Redivivus_ is delightful, if only for the reappearance of the
quaint old woodcuts--some of which, however, the Baron is of opinion,
never belonged to the original edition--yet, with a polite bow to
MARY BOYLE, he would venture to observe that, in his opinion, the
revivification is an excellent idea rather thrown away. Whether it
would have been better for more or less Boyleing, he is not absolutely
certain, but perhaps the notion required a somewhat different
treatment. The best of the fables is _The Sly Stag_, which, according
to the woodcut, ought to have been a goat. But there may be some
subtle humour in the frequent incongruity between a fable and its
pictorial illustration.
THE BARON DE BOOK-WORMS.
* * * * *
GRANDOLPH VICTORIOUS.--Rather fresh Easterly-windy weather for racing,
last week; glad, therefore, to hear that GRANDOLPH "had a lot on." His
_Abbesse de Jouarre_ was not to be stopped by any _Father Confessor_,
and came in first. What will he name his next probable starter? _John
Wesley_?
* * * * *
RECENT letters to _The Times_ represent Tangiers to English tourists
as the most Tangierble point for a holiday trip.
* * * * *
[Illustration: A MINE OF INFORMATION.
"WHAT'S A CENTAUR, PAPA?"
"A CENTAUR, MY CHILD, IS A FABULOUS CREATURE, NOW _EXTINCT!_"]
* * * * *
MORE ABOUT TALLEYRAND.
_To the Editor of "Punch."_
DEAR SIR,--You have on many occasions honoured me by inserting my
contributions, and consequently it is to you I turn in the present
difficulty. A few days since an appeal was made in the columns of one
of your contemporaries which it is hard to resist.
_A propos_ of the Talleyrand Autobiography a gentleman, who had given
some extracts therefrom, wrote--"What I have quoted shows the charm
and interest of the work, but does not discount its publication;
and this, I hope, will be enough to enforce on the custodians of the
Memoirs the obligation of reflection before continuing to suppress
and to frustrate the legitimate curiosity of the public." I have
reflected, and, without making any admission, I submit that possibly
the following passages may attain the end which the gentleman in
question seemingly suggests.
When TALLEYRAND, in 1801, was at Amiens, assisting JOSEPH BONAPARTE
in conducting negotiations with Lord CORNWALLIS for the final
ratification of peace, he had an interview with the representative of
England. I give a translation from a paper in my possession:--
"It was already the everlasting opposition of maritime and
manufacturing towns that prevented this consummation.
When Milor (CORNWALLIS?) observed, with insular bluntness
(_bonhomie_), 'The outcome will be a new throne (_encore
une chaise bien decore_) for J. B.' I replied, 'This will
certainly not be to the advantage of Son Altesse JOSEPH (_pas
pour Jose_).'"
Does not this read as if written yesterday? Five years later
TALLEYRAND entered into a direct communication with Fox by letter, and
this led to a personal interview with Lord YARMOUTH. I make a second
quotation:--
"I told Mister-for-laughter (_esquire pour rire_) that there
would be no difficulty in restoring to England Hanover,
which was then in possession of Prussia. The Englishman
(_l'Anglais_), who had been imbibing some generous wine (_vin
ordinaire a dix sous_), stammered out that he considered the
suggestion piscatorial. 'Milor,' I retorted, with a polite
bow, 'to a YARMOUTH accustomed to bloaters all things must
appear fishy!'"
Considering TALLEYRAND'S flexible mind, and the ease with which he
resigned himself to blunders when they did not seem to him dangerous,
this judgment, expressed with surprising emphasis, is the most
striking condemnation which can be passed on the tone adopted by the
British negotiator. With rare skill TALLEYRAND avoids the dryness
usual to memoirs of a personal character. As an instance of this,
I give a description of the desertion by the wily diplomatist of
NAPOLEON in 1814, when the Emperor had consented to retire to
Elba. That this passage may have additional force, I give it in the
original, possibly very original, French:--
"Je n'aime pas lui. Je pensais de cet homme qu'il etait un
espece de polichinelle (_a quaint sort of puppet_), qu'il
n'etait pas la valeur de son sel (_not the value of his
salt_), et voila la raison pourquoi je lui vende (_why I
offered him for sale_). Il n'a pu supporter la bienfaisance
avec satisfaction, ni les choses bien desagreables avec
complaisance."
"He could not bear the things that were disagreeable with
complacency." Volumes might be written on that phrase, which at this
moment, if we look around us, suggests numerous parallel instances.
I have heard a man growl when a plate of soup has been poured by a
careless waiter on his dress waistcoat, I have noticed a lady frown
when I have myself accidentally torn her train from its body, by
treading upon it at an evening party. TALLEYRAND knew NAPOLEON--"He
could not bear the things that were disagreeable with complacency!"
And yet BONAPARTE is sometimes called "_Le Grand_!" (The Great!)
Here I pause, as I feel that I may have already gone too far. It is
not for me to say how the document from which I have quoted, came into
my possession. But before I satisfy the legitimate curiosity of the
public further, I consider it my professional duty to consult the Bar
Committee, the Council of the Incorporated Law Society, the President
of the Probate, Divorce, and Admiralty Division of the High Court of
Justice, and the LORD CHANCELLOR, many of whom are unfortunately still
absent, enjoying the Whitsuntide Vacation. I have the honour to be,
dear Sir,
Your most obedient Servant,
(_Signed_) A. BRIEFLESS, JUNIOR.
_Pump-handle Court, June 2nd, 1890._
* * * * *
A NOVEL WITH A PURPOSE.
DEAR MR. PUNCH,
How a few hundred pounds may be easily and honestly earned is a
problem which daily exercises the imaginations of thousands. I was
fortunate enough to hit upon a plan which I now feel it to be my duty
to make as widely known as possible for the benefit of those whose
need is greater than mine; for, curiously enough, not only did my
work bring me in that direct emolument, upon which I not unwarrantably
reckoned, but an elderly lady of unstable views was so taken with
the chaotic benevolence of my book, that she bequeathed to me a very
handsome legacy indeed, and almost immediately enabled me to realise
it. Thus does the absolutely unexpected serve as the handmaid of the
perfectly unintended, and enterprise retires from the lodgings of
struggle to the villa of repose. My plan briefly was to write a
quasi-religious Novel with a Purpose. I knew nothing about religion,
and had no literary experience, but the purpose I had, and that
purpose was, to make enough money to spend six weeks at Herne Bay, a
locality to which I am passionately addicted.
A brief sketch of my proceedings will be the best explanation and
guide to others. I first bought a sixpenny scrap-album, a pot of
paste, and a pair of strong scissors; and a shillingsworth of penny
novelettes of various kinds and dates, and a shillingsworth of cheap
manuscript-paper completed my outlay. I then took the goods home and
got to work. Glancing through the pile of novelettes, I soon found an
opening that struck me as most suitable, cut it out, and pasted it in
the scrap-book. Now came the chief literary exercise of my task. I had
to go carefully through the passage, changing the names of the places
and people, and making a few necessary substitutions, _e.g._,
"The cuckoo was calling, and the dove cooing from the neighbouring
woodland," would stand in my version "The cuckoo was cuckooing, and
the dove calling from the adjacent thicket," while a sky described
as "azure" in the original, would figure as "lapis lazuli," or, even
blue.
The introduction safely engineered, I took another novelette from the
pile, and holding it firmly in the left hand, I grasped the scissors
with the thumb and forefinger of the right, cut three or four extracts
at random, of rather more than half a column in length, and pasted
these in the album, leaving about space enough for a couple of pages
of three-volume novel, between each section.
Thus I dealt with my twelve novelettes, and then went through them
again, and even again. Then the hard work began. I had to draw up
a list of names of my own, and then to go carefully through the
extracts, assigning the speeches to the best of my ability to the
most suitable of my own characters. This, however, was infinitely
less trouble than inventing dialogue, a process for which I always
entertained an insuperable aversion. I was also confronted at times by
adventures in my extracts which were quite unsuited for the novel with
a purpose, which, according to the justest canons, should never get
beyond a sprained ankle; and even that has to be handled with the
greatest discretion--generally by the wavering curate. So I had in
several places to tone down precipices, stay the inflowing tide with
more success than King CANUTE, and stop runaway horses before they had
excited alarm in their fair riders, or brought the discarded lover out
into the road, saying in a tone of quiet command, "Stop! This cannot
be allowed to go any farther."
Next, through the kindness of a friend, who was a householder, I
procured a reading ticket for the British Museum Library, and from the
writings of HERBERT SPENCER, HUXLEY, EMERSON, MATTHEW ARNOLD,
RUSKIN, Dr. MOMERIE, and Mr. WALTER PATER, and largely from the
more pretentious Reviews and Magazines, I made copious and tolerably
bewildering extracts, which I apportioned among the vacant spaces in
my story, with more regard to the length than to the circumstances. I
next went carefully over the whole, writing in a line here and there
to make things smooth and pleasant, and artfully acknowledging the
quotations in an incidental manner. The result was a surprisingly
interesting and suggestive work, and when I had copied it all out in a
fair, clerkly hand, I found no difficulty in disposing of it, to good
advantage, to a publisher of repute. The book caught on immensely.
I became for one dazzling season a second-rate lion of the first
magnitude. I was pointed out by literary celebrities whom nobody
knew, to social recruits who knew nobody. I figured prominently in
the Saloons of the Mutual-exploitation Societies, and when my name
appeared in the minor Society papers among those present at Mrs. OPHIR
CROWDY'S reception, I felt what it was to be famous--and to remain
unspoiled.
A word of advice to those who will act upon my suggestions. Pitch your
story in the calm domestic key, upon which the depths and obscurities
of essayists, philosophers and divines, will come with pleasing
incongruity. Thus:--
CHAPTER I.
"An English Summer day; old _Ponto_ has been lying in the shade of the
great elm at the Rectory Gate, too lazy to make even a vigorous snap
at the flies, who are circling with mazy persistency round his great,
good-humoured head. At the sound of wheels coming along the road, he
pricks up his ears, and moves aside just in time to avoid being run
over by the chaise from the Hall." Then the rattle of teacups, and
the merry voices of tennis-players are interrupted by the barking of
_Ponto_, and the incident of the tramp, lectured by the Rector, and
relieved by LIONEL, the philanthropic Atheist.
"'I love the Human, I resent the Divine!' said LIONEL, carefully
shutting his purse.
"'Why, really,' began the Rector, 'I don't know what I have done to
incur your resentment.'
"'Pardon me, Sir,' said LIONEL, grimly. 'I am speaking of the Divine
with a big _D_.'
"'We never use a big, big _D_,' laughed NETTIE, gaily shaking her
curls.
"'Hush!' said MABEL, raising a warning finger at her little
rattle-brain."
After this sally you may give two or three pages of discussion,
letting the Rector have a good show with some of the Fathers, while
NETTIE and LIONEL reconstruct things, human and divine, in the
gloaming. You may carry your party to town in the season, and
tantalise your frivolous readers by taking them just up to the
Duchess's door. "Here LIONEL and Mr. CRUMPETTER left the ladies, as
they had some important business in hand, promising to return for
them at six o'clock. They had to go to an architect's office in Great
George Street, to inspect the plans of the new Laundry, which LIONEL
had persuaded the Earl to erect on the waste ground where he had had
his memorable conversation with the tinker."
This plan might advantageously be applied to the fashionable, the
military, the sporting, and the adventurous novel. Indeed, most
writers seem to think that it has been. Meanwhile, nobody need
starve while they can turn their scissors to intelligent use. Yours
obediently,
THE RETIRED CLIPPER.
* * * * *
[Illustration: SKETCH AT A CONCERT.
VARIATIONS ON THE ORIGINAL HAIR.]
* * * * *
MR. PUNCH'S DICTIONARY OF PHRASES.
JOURNALISTIC REPORTING.
"_Applause in court, which was instantly suppressed_;" _i.e._, Some
foolish people made a noise at the wrong moment, and applauded the
wrong person.
"_The case excited the greatest interest, and from an early hour in
the morning the approaches to the court were thronged by a vast press
of individuals, representing a large proportion of the rank, fashion,
and intellect of the Metropolis_;" _i.e._, A crowd of loafers and
London busy-bodies came to hear an offensive trial.
A LITTLE MUSIC.
"_Well, I just put a song or two in my pocket, on the off-chance, you
know_;" _i.e._, "I've half-a-dozen, but he's so jealous he'll take
precious good care I shan't sing 'em all."
PRIVATE THEATRICALS.
"_No, my dear old chap, you_ must _play the Baron. You see,
anybody, why I myself, can rattle through the Count. Plays itself,
don'tcherknow. But the Baron,_ that _wants an Actor. No, no, you must
play the Baron_;" _i.e._, "_He_ play the Count, at his age, and with
his figure, and cut me out of my favourite part! Put a spoke in _that_
wheel."
"With _a song! Oh, but_ is _my voice good enough to go with Miss
Seetop's?_" _i.e._, "Scraggy screamer; she'd spoil SIMS REEVES at his
best."
"_What I'm anxious about is the love-scene. You see I'm hardly up to
the Romeo role_;" _i.e._, "With _such a Juliet_!"
* * * * *
--> NOTICE.--Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS.,
Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no
case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed
Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Note
page 267: 'pudent' (sic) retained ... possibly adjective from noun:
pudency, n. Modesty. (f. LL pudentia) (Oxford Dictionary)
or,
from Latin Dictionary: Pudens, pudentis, modest; bashful. Pudenter,
modestly, bashfully.
"To pose as SCIPIO, that pudent Roman,"
page. 270: 'millionnaire', the French spelling of 'millionaire', has been
retained.
Errata:
page 268: 'Brition' corrected to "Briton". "But the Briton hugs his
tankard,"
page 268: 'responbilities' corrected to 'responsibilities' "when the
Companies began really to understand their responsibilities"