"Fancy anyone remembering Christmas! Even for a Missing Word
Competition! Everything seems changing nowadays!"
But the Grandson was wrong--his Christmas bills were unchangeable. And
ever will be!
* * * * *
"ART COMPETITIONS."
"Since these competitions were started, the public had been educated
in artistic matters, and their judgment was almost equal to that of
the members of the Royal Academy."--_Mr. Poland's Speech in the
"Missing Word" case._
Mr. Poland said, at Bow Street,
Choosing pictures thus imparts
Judgment good as that of those treat-
Ed as foremost in the arts.
Hitherto each paid his shilling
At the House of Burling_ton_,
Gazed at pictures, feeble, thrilling,
Bad or good, and wandered on--
Stared with awe-struck admiration
At "the Picture of the Year,"
Gained artistic education
In a stuffy atmosphere.
Then all changed; he paid his shilling
And he sent his coupon in
To a weekly paper, willing
To discriminate the tin;
And be wisely praised or blamed, yet
He knew nothing of design,
The BRIDGE of Bow Street claimed yet
One more shilling as a fine.
Oh, rejoice, Academicians!
Learned BRIDGE knew what to do;
Artisans or mechanicians
Might have grown as wise as you.
Which would sadden any just man,
And might make an angel weep--
DICKSEE distanced by a dustman,
STOREY staggered by a sweep!
BOUGHTON beaten by a baker,
Housemaids humbling helpless HOOK;
STONE surpassed by sausage-maker,
COOPER conquered by a cook!
CROWE or CROFTS crushed by a cow-boy,
MILLAIS made by milkmen mad,
PETTIE plucked by any ploughboy,
LEIGHTON licked by butcher's lad!
It effected all you care for,
But Sir JOHN has pulled you through;
Bold Bow-Street's Beak is, therefore,
No Bridge of Sighs for you
* * * * *
"A NOTE ON THE APPRECIATION OF GOLD."--Send a five-pound note (verified
by the Bank of England) to our office, and we will undertake to get it
changed _immediately_, and thereupon to hand over to the Bearer, in
exchange for the note, _two golden sovereigns, and one golden
half-sovereign, ready cash_. This will show what is _our_ appreciation
of gold.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE SKELETON AT THE FEAST.]
"I confess it does seem to me that certain decisions made by a competent
tribunal hare rendered it extremely doubtful whether there is a single
one of the 670 gentlemen who now compose the House of Commons, who might
not find himself, by some accident, unseated, if a full investigation
were made into everything that had taken place in his constituency, say,
during the ten years preceding his candidature."--_Mr. Balfour at
Sheffield._
_M.P. (of any Party you please), loquitur:--_
PHEW! It's all very fine, when you gather to dine,
And to blow off the steam, while you blow off your 'bacca,
(As the farmers of Aylesbury did, when their wine
Was sweetened with "news from the Straits of Malacca");
But things are much changed since the voters of Bucks
Flushed red with loud fun at the phrases of DIZZY,
And M.P.'s are dreadfully down on their lucks,
Since BALFOUR'S confounded "tribunals" got busy.
What precious stiff posers to loyal Primrosers
Are offered by Rochester, Walsall, and Hexham!
Platform perorators, post-prandial glosers,
Must find many points to perplex 'em and vex 'em.
It bothers a spouter who freely would flourish
Coat-tails and mixed tropes at political dinners,
When doubts of his safety he's driven to nourish,
Through publicans rash and (electoral) sinners.
Good lack, and good gracious! One may be veracious,
And look with disgust upon bribes and forced bias,
Yet owing to "Agents" more hot than sagacious,
_Appear_ as _Autolycus-cum_-ANANIAS.
One might just as soon be a Man-in-the-Moon,
Or hark back at once to the style of Old Sarum.
That Act (Corrupt Practices) may be a boon.
But the way they apply it seems most harum-scarum.
Should a would-be M.P. ask old ladies to tea,
Or invite male supporters to crumpets or cricket;
Should a snug Party Club prove a trifle too free,
Or give an equivocal "treat," or hat-ticket;
A seven years' nursing of Slopville-on-Slime,
A well-fought Election and Glorious Victory
(Crowed o'er by proud Party prints at the time)
May--lose you your Seat. It does seem contradictory.
Of course, my good friends, one would not say a word,
Against England's glory--Electoral Purity!
Suspect _me_ of slighting that boon? Too absurd!
But what good's a Seat without _some_ small security.
To fight tooth and nail, land a win, and then fail
Along of dishon--I mean o'er-zealous "Agents"--
Well, well, I don't wish at our Judges to rail,
But--putting it plainly--I fear it won't pay, gents.
'Tis hard to attend a political feast,
And strut like a peacock, and crow like a bantam,
Yet feel at one's back, like a blast from the east,
A be-robed and be-wigged and blood-curdling law phantom.
Stentorian cheers, and uproarious hear-hears,
Though welcome, won't banish the sense of "wet-blanket"
(That's INGOLDSBY'S rhyme), when Petition-bred fears
Conjure up a grim Skeleton (Judge) at the Banquet!
* * * * *
[Illustration: SUCH A HAPPY FAMILY PARTY--AT CHRISTMAS.
_Uncle John_ (_losing his money and his temper_). "NOW, JANE, DO ME A
FAVOUR FOR ONCE, AND _DON'T_ SHOW YOUR HAND!"
_Aunt Jane_ (_whose best Cards her Partner has invariably
over-trumped_). "I CAN'T HELP IT. YOU SHOW _YOUR_ HANDS, AND I'M SURE
_THEY_'RE NO BEAUTIES!" [_After this, there's a prospect of a very
pleasant evening._]
* * * * *