(_AN ELECTIONEERING REMINISCENCE._)
SCENE--_A narrow South London Street of two-storeyed houses,
with a Rag-and-Bone Shop at one end and a Public House at the
other. Time, about four o'clock on a warm Saturday afternoon.
Enter Mr. CARLTON-JERMYN, a middle-aged gentleman, in
faultless get-up, who, in a moment of weakness, has undertaken
to canvass the district for his friend, the Conservative
Candidate._
_Mr. C.-J._ (_to himself, as he regards his surroundings with dismay,
and tries to arrange his canvassing-cards_). I suppose this _is_
Little Anna Maria Street? I didn't understand at the Committee Rooms
that it was _quite_ such a--however, I must do my best for dear old
TILNEY. Who's the first man I must see and "use my best endeavours to
persuade him into promising his vote?" Ah, Mr. J. SPLURGE, No. 1. (_He
picks his way delicately along, attempting to make out the numbers
on the doors, which are all thrown back; female residents watch him
from doorsteps and windows with amused interest._) No. 5; No. 3; the
next is No. 1. (_It is; but the entrance is blocked by a small infant
with a very dirty face, who is slung in a baby-chair between the
door-posts._) Very embarrassing, really! Can't ask such a child
as this if Mr. SPLURGE is at home! I'll knock. (_Stretches for the
knocker across the child, who, misinterpreting his intentions, sets up
a howl._) My good child, I assure you ... for Heaven's sake, don't!...
I--I wonder whether I ought to _kiss_ it--some fellows would!
[Illustration: "I wonder whether I ought to _kiss_ it--some fellows
would!"]
_Female Voice_ (_from side-window_). You leave that pore child alone,
will yer--or I'll come out and _tork_ to you, d'y'ear?
_Mr. C.-J._ (_to himself_). That's _Mrs._ SPLURGE! I think, perhaps,
I'd better _not_ wait. (_With an inspiration._) I'll leave a card.
(_Drops one of his visiting-cards in the child's lap--to its exceeding
terror--and retreats._) I'm _afraid_ I haven't produced a very
favourable impression, so far, I'll try No. 2, across the street. (_He
approaches a doorstep upon which two stout and dishevelled Women are
seated._) Er--I _beg_ your pardon, but could you kindly inform me if
Mr.--er--(_consulting card_)--GUFFIN is at home?
_First Woman_ (_with sarcasm_). Now _do_ yer think he's nothink else
to do but set indoors in a arm-cheer all day?
_Mr. C.-J._ I--I thought--I hoped--that, it being Saturday, I might
be--er--fortunate enough--have I the pleasure of addressing Mrs.
GUFFIN? [_Both Women are convulsed with uncontrollable mirth._
_Second Woman_ (_on recovering--calling down the passage_). 'Ere, Mrs.
GUFFIN, yer wanted. 'Ere's a gentleman come to see yer!
_Mrs. Guffin_ (_appearing from the basement, and standing at the
further end of the passage_). Well, what does _he_ want?
_Mr. C.-J._ (_raising his hat, and sending his voice down the passage
to her_). I ventured to call, Mrs. GUFFIN, in the hope of finding your
husband at home, and ascertaining his--er--political sympathies, in
view of the Election.
_Mrs. Guffin._ Oh, it's about the voting, is it? Are you for a
Conservatory?
_Mr. C.-J._ For a--? Oh, to be sure, yes. I came to ask Mr. GUFFIN to
support Sir TILNEY BRUTON, the Conservative Candidate. Perhaps if I
called again, I might--?
_Mrs. Guffin_ (_in a matter-of-fact tone_). I don't expect my 'usband
'ome till late, and then he'll be drunk.
_Mr. C.-J._ Just so. But I trust, Mrs. GUFFIN, your husband feels the
importance of maintaining the Union--?
_Mrs. Guffin._ He _did_ belong, I know, but I think his branch broke
up, or somethink.
_Mr. C.-J._ (_puzzled_). Ah, but I mean in--er--politics--I hope he is
opposed to granting Home Rule to Ireland?
_Mrs. G._ He don't tell _me_ nothing about his politics, but I've
'eard him say he was Radikil.
_Mr. C.-J._ (_diplomatically, as Mrs. G. slowly edges towards
the door_). Might I suggest, Mrs. GUFFIN, that you should use
the--er--influence which every woman possesses, to--er--induce your
husband--(_here he suddenly becomes aware that Mrs. GUFFIN has a
very pronounced black eye_); but perhaps I ought not to ask you.
_Mrs. G._ Well, _my_ opinion is--if you want someone to tork over my
'usband to your side, you'd better come and do it yourself; because
_I_ ain't goin' to. So there! [_She retires to the basement again._
_First Dish. W._ If you toffs can't do nothink better than come 'ere
makin' mischief between a man and his wife, you'd better stop at 'ome,
_that_ you 'ad!
_Mr. C.-J._ (_to himself_). Upon my word, I believe she's right! But I
never noticed the poor woman's eye before. I wish I could find one
of the _men_ in, and have a talk with him--much more satisfactory!
(_Knocks at No. 4_) Is Mr. BULCHER at home?
_Mr. B._ (_lurching out of a room on the ground-floor_). Qui' c'rect,
Guv'nor--thash me!
_Mr. C.-J._ I wanted to see you, Mr. BULCHER, to ask if we may count
upon your support for the Conservative Candidate at the Election. I
need hardly point out to you the--er--vital importance of--
_Mr. B._ (_slouching against the passage-wall, opposite Mr. C.-J._).
'Old on, Guv'nor, lemme ashk you thish question, 'fore we go any
furrer. Wharriwanter 'ear from _you_ is--'Ow 'm I goin' git little bit
o' good outer thesh 'lections for myshelf. You unnershtand me? What
good Conshervative gov'men' ever done er workin' man--d' yer shee?
Why, never--not in all their born daysh! You take that shtraight from
me.
_Mr. C.-J._ But surely--er--it was a Conservative Government that gave
you Free Education?
_Mr. B._ (_knowingly_). No, it washn't, Guv'nor. There yer wrong,
d'yer see? It wash er _Radicals_ give us Free Education. And whatsh
Free Education er me? Wouldn' say Thank yer f'rall Free Education in
er wide world!
_Mr. C.-J._ (_recognising that he must strike a stronger chord_).
Well, at all events you will admit that, during the last six years,
you have been--er--peaceful and prosperous?
_Mr. B._ (_beerily_). I've been peashful and proshperous ever sinsh
I was born. No, look 'ere, Guv'nr, I'm torken to you 'bout wharri
_unnershtan'_, d'yer see? Jes' you lishen er wharri'm goin tell you.
(_Here he punctuates his remarks by poking Mr. C.-J.'s ribs with
a clay pipe._) Workin' man's gettin' more and more 'telligent every
day--he'sh qui' capable lookin' after his own interests. What
he wantch is, One Man One Vote, Redooced Hours o' Labour, 'Ome
Rule for London, an' the Control of the Liquor Traffic! What did
Misher GLADSHTONE say? Educated and 'telligent clashes alwaysh
_wrong_--mashes always _ri'_! An' hain't _I_ 'telligent an' educated?
Very _well_, then. There you _'ave_ it.
_Mr. C.-J._ But--er--don't you see, my friend, that, according to Mr.
GLADSTONE, the more intelligent and educated you are, the more you're
wrong?
_Mr. B._ Nothing of--er--kind. Don' you make any mishtake. _I_ ain't
wrong. I gommy 'pinions--my p'litical 'pinions, and the prinshiples I
go 'pon are--Down with--er--Tories!
_Mr. C.-J._ In that case, Mr. BULCHER, I need not occupy your time any
longer, so I'll say--
_Mr. B._ (_buttonholing him_). Don' you go 'way, Guv'nor, 'fore I've
finished torkin. I've lishened all _you_ gorrer say--now itsh
_my_ turn talk, and I tell _you_ er Conshervative Gov'men ish a
downri'--&c., &c.
_Mr. C.-J._ (_escaping, after ten minutes' incoherence_). I'm afraid
he was not _quite_ in a condition to be argued with, but perhaps I
shall do better with Mr. MOLESKIN, next door. (_To a small boy in
passage._) Mr. MOLESKIN in, my lad?
_The Boy._ Father--_e's_ in. Go right up the stairs, and you'll find
'im.
[_Mr. C.-J. flounders up the narrow stairs, and is met at the
top by a very burly and surly mechanic._
_Mr. Moleskin_. Now, then, what do _you_ want 'ere? (Mr. C.-J.
_explains his object, in some confusion_.) Oh, that's it, is it? And
what right ha' you got comin' up my stairs as if they belonged to you?
Jest you tell me that!
_Mr. C.-J._ (_meekly_). I'm really very sorry--but I was--er--_shown_
up.
_Mr. M._ It's 'igh time you and the likes o' you _were_ shown up, in
my opinion. 'Ow would you like to 'ave me comin' bustin' up _your_
stairs, eh?
_Mr. C.-J._ (_thinking that he wouldn't like it at all_). I assure
you I quite feel that this is an unwarrantable intrusion on my part--I
must ask you to accept my best apologies--but I should be very glad
to know that we might count on your--er--support at such a national
crisis.
_Mr. M._ I dessay yer would. But what I ask _you_ is--where does the
secresy of the Ballot come in, if I'm to tell you which way I'm goin'
to give my vote?
_Mr. C.-J._ (_in distress_). Pray believe that I should not dream
of--er--forcing any confidence from you, or dictating to you in any
way! I merely--
_Mr. M._ (_mollified_). Well, I don't mind tellin' yer this
much:--I've made up _my_ mind long ago, and, when the time comes, I
shall vote to please myself and nobody else; and that's as much as
you've got any right to know!
_Mr. C.-J._ (_with a feeling that he would give much the same answer
himself under similar circumstances_). Then I'm afraid it would be of
no use if I said any more?
_Mr. M._ Not a bit o' use! [_He goes into his room again._
_Mrs. Moleskin_ (_coming out and addressing her son from landing_).
'Ere, JIMMY, you come in orf o' that doorstep, and don't you go
showin' any _more_ folks up, or you don't know _oo'_ you may let in
next!
_Mr. C.-J._ (_sadly, to himself, as he descends_). I'd no idea
canvassing was such exhausting work. I--I really think I've done
enough for one afternoon! [_Leaves Little Anna Maria Street--for
ever!_
* * * * *
[Illustration: "Bear with us!"]
"BEAR WITH US."--In the case reported in the papers last week of "an
infuriated bear shot at Croydon," Inspector ORMONDE said that "when
the ring had been removed from its lip, the animal was so much
relieved that it immediately turned a somersault." A picture of this
interesting incident should be at once painted and hung up in the
Divorce Court. The husband, who has become quite a bear in consequence
of his better half having rendered herself quite unbearable, would
naturally turn head-over-heels with joy on getting quit of the ring.
But alas! mark the end of the poor bear. He got more and more excited;
he had to be looked up in a stable. Here the joy and novelty of the
situation overcame him; his mighty brain gave way; he became mad as
a hatter--(_Alice in Wonderland_ might have asked, "Then why didn't
they send for a hatter, who would have brought a chimney-pot, or some
sort of a tile for his bear-head?")--and subsequently the veterinary
Mr. THRALE (whose ancestral namesake had considerable experience
in dealing with that learned bear. Dr. JOHNSON) procured a gun, and
potted the bear. Awkward in his life, but grease-ful in his death.
* * * * *
[Illustration: EDWARDO AND EDWINI.
A JAPANESE JAPE BY OUR EVER-ON-THE-SPOT ARTIST "LIKA JOKO,"
REPRESENTING SIR EDWIN ARNOLD RECEIVING THE ORDER OF "THE FIRST
DESCRIPTIVE LEADER" FROM H.J.M., DALI TELLI, THE MIKADO.]
* * * * *