(_BY_ KIPPIERD HERRING, _AUTHOR OF "SOLDIERS' TEA," "OVER THE
DARODEES," "HANDSOME HEADS ON THE VALETS," "MORE BLACK THAN WHITE,"
"EXPERIMENTAL DITTOS," &C., &C._)
[NOTE.--The MS. of this story arrived from India by pneumatic
despatch, a few puffs having been apparently sufficient.
In a letter which was enclosed with it the author modestly
apologises for its innumerable merits. "But," he adds, "I have
several hundred of the same sort in stock, and can supply them
at a moment's notice. Kindly send £1000 in Bank of England
notes, by registered letter, to K. HERRING. No farther address
will be required."]
_Polla dan anta cat anta._ What will you have, Sahib? My heart is
made fat, and my eyes run with the water of joy. _Kni vestog rind.
Scis sorstog rind_, the Sahib is as a brother to the needy, and the
afflicted at the sound of his voice become as a warming-pan in a _fôr
postah_. Ahoo! Ahoo! I have lied unto the Sahib. _Mi ais an dlims_, I
am a servant of sin. _Burra Murra Boko! Burra Murra Boko!_
There came a sound in the night as of an elephant-herd trumpeting in
anger, and my liver was dissolved, and the heart within me became as
a _Patoph But'ah_ under the noon-day sun. I made haste, for there was
fear in the air, Sahib, and the _Pleez Mahn_ that walketh by night
was upon me. But, oh, Sahib, the cunning of the serpent was with me,
and as he passed I tripped him up, and the raging river received him.
Twice he rose, and the gleam of his eyes spake in vain for help. And
at last there came a bubble where the man had been, and he was seen no
more. _Burra Murra Boko! Burra Murra Boko!_
That night I spake unto her as she stood in the moonlight. "Oh, sister
of an oil-jar, and daughter of pig-troughs, what is it thou hast
done?" And she, laughing, spake naught in reply, but gave me the
_Tcheke Slahp_ of her tribe, and her fingers fell upon my face, and my
teeth rattled within my mouth. But I, for my blood was made hot within
me, sped swiftly from her, making no halt, and the noise of fifty
thousand devils was in my ears, and the rage of the _Smâk duns_ burnt
fierce within the breast of me, and my tongue was as a fresh fig that
grows upon a southern wall. _Auggrh!_ pass me the peg, for my mouth is
dry. _Burra Murra Boko! Burra Murra Boko!_ Then came the Yunkum Sahib,
and the Bunkum Sahib, and they spake awhile together. But I, like unto
a _Brerra-bit_, lay low, and my breath came softly, and they knew not
that I watched them as they spake. And they joked much together, and
told each to the other how that the wives of their friends were to
them as mice in the sight of the crouching _Tabbikat_, and that the
honour of a man was as sand, that is blown afar by the storm-wind
of the desert, which maketh blind the faithful, and stoppeth their
mouths. Such are all of them, Sahib, since I that speak unto you know
them for what they are, and thus I set forth the tale that all men may
read, and understand. _Burra Murra Boko! Burra Murra Boko!_
'"Twas the most ondacint bedivilmint ever I set eyes on, Sorr. There
was I, blandandhering widout"--
"Pardon me," I said, "this is rather puzzling. A moment back you
were a Mahajun of Puli, in Marwur, or a Delhi Pathan, or a Wali Dad,
or something of that sort, and now you seem to have turned into an
Irishman. Can you tell me how it is done?"
"Whist, ye oncivilised, backslidhering pagin!" said my friend, Private
O'RAMMIS, for it was indeed he. "Hould on there till I've tould ye.
Fwhat was I sayin'? Eyah, eyah, them was the bhoys for the dhrink.
When the sun kem out wid a blink in his oi, an' the belly-band av his
new shoot tied round him, there was PORTERS and ATHUS lyin' mixed up
wid the brandy-kegs, and the houl of the rigimint tearin' round like
all the divils from hell bruk loose.
"Thin I knew there'd be thrubble, for ye must know, Sorr, there was a
little orf'cer bhoy cryin' as tho' his little heart was breakin', an'
the Colonel's wife's sister, wid her minowderin' voice--"
"Look here, O'RAMMIS," I said, "I don't like to stop you; but isn't it
just a trifle rash--I mean," I added hastily, for I saw him fingering
his bayonet, "is it quite as wise as it might be to use up all your
materials at once? Besides, I seem to have met that little Orf'cer
bhoy and the Colonel's wife's sister before. I merely mention it as
a friend."
"You let 'im go, Sir," put in PORTERS, with his cockney accent. "Lor,
Sir, TERENCE knows bloomin' well wot 'e's torkin' about, an' wen
'e's got a story to tell you know there ain't one o' us wot'll get a
bloomin' word in; or leastways, Hi carn't."
"Sitha," added JOCK ATHUS. "I never gotten but one story told mysen,
and he joomped down my throaat for that. Let un taalk, Sir, let un
taalk."
"Very well," I said, producing one of the half-dozen bottles of
champagne that I always carried in my coat-tail pockets whenever I
went up to the Barracks to visit my friend O'RAMMIS, "very well. Fire
away, TERENCE, and let us have your story."
"I'm an ould fool," continued O'RAMMIS, in a convinced tone. "But
ye know, JOCK, how 'twas. I misremember fwhat I said to her, but she
never stirred, and only luked at me wid her melancolious ois, and
wid that my arm was round her waist, for bedad, it was pretty, she
was under the moon in the ould barrick square. 'Hould on there,' she
says, 'ye boiled thief of Deuteronomy. D'ye think I've kem here to be
philandhering afther you. I'd make a better man than you out av empty
kyartridges and putty.' Wid that she turned on her heel, and was for
marching away. But I was at her soide agin before she'd got her left
fut on the beat. 'That's quare,' thinks I to myself; 'but, TERENCE,
me bhoy, 'tis you know the thricks av the women. Shoulder arrums,' I
thinks, 'and let fly wid the back sight.' Wid that I just squeezed her
hand wid the most dellikit av all squeezings, and, sez I, 'MARY, me
darlint,' I sez, 'ye're not vexed wid TERENCE, I know;' but you never
can tell the way av a woman, for before the words was over the tongue
av me, the bhoys kem raging an' ramshackling--"
"Really, O'RAMMIS," I ventured to observe, for I noticed that he
and his two friends had pulled all the other five bottles out of my
pocket, and had finished them, "I'm a little disappointed with you
to-day. I came out here for a little quiet blood-and-thunder before
going to bed, and you are mixing up your stories like the regimental
laundress's soapsuds. It's not right of you. Now, honestly, is it?"
But the Three Musketeers had vanished. Perhaps they may reappear,
bound in blue-grey on the railway bookstalls. Perhaps not. And the
worst of it is, that the Colonel will never understand them, and the
gentlemen who write articles will never understand them. There is
only one man who knows all about them, and even he is sometimes what
my friend O'RAMMIS calls "a blandandhering, philandhering,
misundherstandhering civilian man."
Which his name is KIPPIERD HERRING. And that is perfectly true.
* * * * *
SO MUCH FOR KNOTTING'EM.--The Dean of Rochester to be henceforth known
as The Dean of Knotting'em. His new motto,--
"Whack a 'Shack'
Smack on his back."
Perhaps the Dean would then like to make a Moslem of the lolloping
do-nothing offender, and call him "Shackaback."
* * * * *
[Illustration: WAITING FOR THE EXPRESS. (NOUS AVONS CHANGÉ TOUT CELA.)
FIRST-CLASS PASSENGERS:--SIR GORGIUS MIDAS, LADY MIDAS, AND GORGIUS
MIDAS, ESQ., JUNR.
SECOND-CLASS DITTO:--BUTLERS, FOOTMEN, GROOMS, MAIDS, &C, OF THE HOUSE
OF MIDAS.
THIRD-CLASS DITTO:--THE HON. AND REV. JAMES AND LADY SUSAN DE VERE,
GENERAL SIR JOHN AND LADY HAUTCASTLE, F. MADDER LAKE, ESQ., R.A., AND
DAUGHTERS, PROFESSOR PARALLAX, F.R.S., &C., &C., &C.]
* * * * *
"HERCULES (COUNTY) CONCILIANS;"
_OR, "APPROACHING" THE HYDRA._
[The London County Council adopted the Report of a Committee:
"That the Committee be authorised to enter into tentative
negotiations with the Water Companies, for the purpose of
ascertaining upon what terms the Companies will be prepared
to dispose of their undertakings to the Council." The
Vice-Chairman (Sir T. FARRER) thought that the Committee
"would be as wax in the hands of the clever agents of the
Companies." The Chairman (Sir JOHN LUBBOCK) was in favour
of deferring the question.]
That Hydra again! Monster huge, hydro-cephalous,
Haunting our city of blunders and jobs,
Born, it would seem, to bewilder and baffle us,
_Who_'ll give you "one" for your numerous nobs.
Many have menaced you, some had a shy at you;
SALISBURY stout, and bespectacled CROSS,
Each in his season has joined in the cry at you,
Little, 'twould seem, to your damage or loss.
Still you eight-headed and lanky-limbed monster, you
Sprawl and monopolise, spread and devour.
Many assail you, but hitherto, none stir you.
Say, _has_ the hero arrived, and the hour?
No Infant Hercules, surely, can tackle you,
Ancient abortion, with hope of success.
It needeth a true full-grown hero to shackle you,
Jupiter's son, and Alcmene's, no less!
Our civic Hercules smacks of the nursery,
Not three years old, though ambitious, no doubt;
_You_'ll scarce be captured by tentatives cursory.
Snared by a "motion," or scared by a "spout,"
Hera's pet, offspring of Typhon, the lion-clad
Hero assailed, _con amore_; but _you_,
Callous as Behemoth, hard as an iron-clad,
"Conciliation" with coldness will view
Fancy "approaching" the Hydra with honey-bait,
Tempting the monster to parley and purr!
How will Monopoly look on a money-bait?
Hercules, too, who would "like to defer?"
Not quite a true hard-shell hero--in attitude--
Hercules (County) Concilians looks;
Thinks he to move a true Hydra to gratitude?
Real Leviathan chortles at hooks!
"Come, pretty Hydra! 'Agreement provisional,'
Properly baited with sound _L.S.D._,
Ought to entice you!" He's scorn and derision all,
Hydra, if true to his breed. We shall see!
Just so a groom, with the bridle behind him,
Tempts a free horse with some corn in a sieve.
Will London's Hydra let "tentatives" blind him,
Snap at the bait, and the tempter believe?
Or will the "hero"--in form of Committee--
Really prove wax for the Hydra to mould?
Yes, there's the club, but it's rather a pity
Hercules seems a bit feeble of hold.
Tentative heroes may suit modern urgency,
LUBBOCK may win where a Hercules fails.
If we now hunt, upon public emergency,
Stymphalian Birds, 'tis with salt for their tails!
* * * * *
"YE GODS, WHAT A TERRIBLE TWIST!"
Statistics are sweet things, and full of startling surprises. Like the
Frenchman in "_Killaloe_" "you never know what they'll be up to next."
Here, for instance, is a "statement showing the decrease in price in
the United States of many articles within the past ten years _largely
consumed_ by the agricultural community." And among these "many
articles" "largely consumed," are "mowing machines, barb fence-wire,
horseshoes, forks, wire-cloth, slop-buckets, wheelbarrows, and
putty." No wonder dyspepsia is the national disease in America. Fancy
"consuming" French staples, pie-plates (though _they_ sound almost
edible), and putty!!! The ostrich is supposed to be capable of
digesting such dainties as broken bottles, and tenpenny nails, but
that voracious fowl is evidently not "in it" with the "Agricultural
community" of America.
* * * * *
ODD.--A Correspondent says he found this advertisement in the
_Guardian_:--
RECTOR of S. Michael's, Lichfield, requires help of a
LAY-READER. Visiting, S.-school, cottage services, ass. in
choir, &c. Good salary.
The explanation, we believe, is, that "ass." is the abbreviated form
of "assisting." The Rector had better have the unabbreviated assistant
in choir, particularly if he be already short of choristers; unless
the Rector should be also Vicar of Bray, in which case the "ass."
could be transferred from Lichfield to the more appropriate living.
* * * * *
[Illustration: "HERCULES (COUNTY) CONCILIANS."
"The Special Committee on Water Supply, appointed by the London County
Council, said, in their Report, 'Before entering upon the inquiry,
the Committee thought it would be desirable to approach the Water
Companies with a view to ascertaining whether it would be possible
for the Companies and the Council to make some provisional agreement
as to the terms upon which the Companies' Water undertakings should
be transferred to the Council, if Parliament gave the necessary
authority.'"--_The Times' Report_.]
* * * * *
[Illustration: MOSSOO IN EGYPT.
_Mr. Punch_ (_to French Guardian of Egyptian Monuments_). "COME, I
SAY, SIR! DO YOU CALL THIS LOOKING AFTER THE MONUMENTS? WAKE UP, OR
YOU'LL HAVE TO GO!"--_See "Times" Leader, Oct. 3rd, 1890._]
* * * * *