SIR,--By all means let us have cheaper Cabs in Greater London! The
County Council should subsidise a lot of Cabs, to ply exclusively
between London and the outskirts. Or why not a Government Cab Purchase
Bill, like the Irish Land Purchase one? We want a special Minister for
Public Locomotion--perhaps Lord RANDOLPH CHURCHILL would accept the
post?
Yours, spiritedly, HAMPSTEAD HEATHEN.
* * * * *
"HARD TO BEER!"
(_ADVANCE-SHEET FROM A PROJECTED ANTI-BACCHANALIAN TRAGI-FARCE, TO BE
CALLED "BY ORDER OF THE KAISER."_)
SCENE--_A Market Place in Berlin._ German Students
_carousing._ Emissary of the Emperor _seated at table apart
watching them. Apprehensive_ Waiters _nervously supplying the
wants of their Customers._
_First German Student_. Another flagon of beer, Kellner!
_Waiter_. Here, Mein Herr! (_Brings glass and, as he places it on the
table, whispers aside._) Oh, beware, my good Lord--this is your second
glass.
_First Ger. Stu._ (_with a laugh_). I know what I am about! And now,
my friends, I give you a toast--The Liberty of the Fatherland!
_Chorus of Students_. The Liberty of the Fatherland! [_They all
drink._
_Em. of the Emp._ (_apart_). Ha!
[_He makes an entry in his note-book._
_First Ger. Stu._ And now fill another glass. Fill, my comrades--I
pray you, fill! Kellner! glasses round--for myself and friends.
_Kellner_ (_as before--supplying their wants and warning them_). Oh,
my gracious Lord, be careful! Your third glass--mind now, your third
glass; you know the risk you are running! But one false drop and you
are lost!
_First Ger. Stu._ (_as before_). Well, my good friend, be sure you
supply us with no drop that is not good! Ha, ha, ha! Eh, KARL! eh,
CONRAD! eh, HANS! Did you hear my merry jest?
[_They all laugh._
_Em. of the Emp._ (_as before_). Ha! (_making an entry in his
note-book_). And they laugh at a witless joke! Good! Very good!
_First Ger. Stu._ (_joyously_). And now, my comrades, yet another
toast--The Prosperity of the People!
_Chorus of Ger. Stu._ (_raising their glasses_). The People!
[_They all drink._
_Em. of the Emp._ (_apart_) Ha!
[_He makes an entry in his note-book._
_First Ger. Stu_. And now, a final flagon! Kellner!
_Kellner_ (_as before_). Oh, high-born customer, beware! This is your
fourth glass! You know the law!
_First Ger. Stu._ (_as before_). That indeed I do! And I also know
that my daily allowance is--or rather was--twelve quarts _per diem_!
And now, comrades, our last toast--The Freedom of the Press!
_Chorus of Ger. Stu._ (_raising their glasses_). The Freedom of the
Press!
[_They all drink._
_Em. of the Emp._ (_apart_). This is too much! (_He rises, and
approaches the Students_.) Your pardon, Gentlemen! But do you really
believe in the toasts you have just drunk?
_Chorus of Stu._ Why, certainly!
_Em. of the Emp._ What, in the Liberty of the Fatherland?
_Chorus of Stu._ To be sure--why not?
_Em. of the Emp._ And the Prosperity of the People--mind you, only the
People?
_Chorus of Stu._ Exactly--don't you?
_Em. of the Emp._ And further. You wish well to the Freedom of the
Press?
_Chorus of Stu._ That was our toast! What next?
_Em. of the Emp._ (_producing staff of authority_). That, in the name
of His Majesty, I arrest you!
_Chorus of Stu._ (_astounded_). Arrest us! Why?
_Em. of the Emp._ Because, if you believe in the Liberty of the
Fatherland, ask for the Prosperity of the People, and admire the
Freedom of the Press, you must be drunk!--very drunk! In virtue of the
new law (which punishes the crime of intoxication), away with them!
[_The_ Students _are loaded with chains, and imprisoned,
for an indefinite period, in the lowest dungeon beneath the
castle's moat. Curtain._
* * * * *
OUR HUMOROUS COMPOSER.--What Sir ARTHUR SULLIVAN said or sung before
deciding on taking a Villa at Turbie, on the Riviera,--"Turbie, or not
Turbie, that is the question." He is now hard at work writing a new
Opera (founded, we believe, on _Cox and Box_), and "I am here," he
says, in his quaint way, "because I don't want to be dis-turbie'd."
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE "RETURNED EMPTY."]
_Returned Prodigal sings, to the tune of "Randy Pandy, O!"_:--
Well, here I'm back from Mashonaland!
Mine's hardly a proud position.
My ideas in going were vaguely grand,
And--look at my present condition!
I may cool my heels on this packing-case;
'Tis a little mite like _me_, Sir!
Say my "candid friends," as they watch my face,
"O.I.C.U.R.M.T., Sir!"
I'm the prodigal GRANDY-PANDY, oh!
Returned to my native landy, oh!
With a big moustache, and but little cash,
Though the latter would come in handy, oh!
Like the nursery Jack-a-dandy, oh!
I may "love plum-cake and candy," oh!
But tarts and toffies, or sweets of office,
Seem not--at present--for GRANDY, oh!
Well, I chucked them up,--was it _nous_ or _pique_?
_Is_ the prodigal worst of ninnies?
The fatted calf, and the better half
Of his father's love--and guineas,--
May fall to his share as he homeward lies,
When the husks have lost their flavour.
_My_ calf? Well, it does not greet my eyes,
And I don't yet sniff its savour.
I'm a prodigal GRANDY-PANDY, oh!
Retired from Mashona-landy, oh!
I'm left like a laggard. Grim RIDER HAGGARD
(Whose fiction is "blood-and-brandy," oh!)
Says Africa always comes handy, oh!
For "something new." It sounds grandy, oh!
But a telling new plot I'm afraid is _not_
The fortune of GRANDY-PANDY, oh!
Did they miss me much? Well, I fancy not;
(Though a few did come to greet me;)
The general verdict's "A very queer lot!"
Nor is SOL in a hurry to meet me.
_He_ does not spy me afar off. No!
He would rather I kept my distance;
And if to the front I again should go,
'Twon't be with _his_ assistance.
He deems me a troublesome GRANDY, oh'
In political harness not handy, oh!
I am out of a job, while BALFOUR is a nob,
That lank and effeminate dandy, oh!
Well, a prodigal son _may_ be "sandy." oh!
I am off for a soda-and-brandy, oh!
And a "tub" at my Club, where I'm sure of a snub
From the foes of returning GRANDY, oh!
* * * * *
[Illustration: "A VOLUNTARY CONTRIBUTION."
_Philistine Wife_. "YOUR PAPER ISN'T AT ALL AMUSING JUST NOW. BUT
THERE, I MUST CONFESS IT IS _NOT_ EASY TO BE EITHER FUNNY OR WITTY
EVERY WEEK."
_Journalist_ (_much worried_). "NO, MY DEAR, MUCH EASIER TO BE ALWAYS
DULL AND PROSAIC EVERY EVENING."
[_He was about to add a personal illustration, but as, fortunately, he
didn't, the subject dropped._]
* * * * *