(_A Postscript to a Well-known Work._)
ALICE was delighted with all she saw. Statesmen, generals, celebrities
of every kind. Then there were marvellous animals--some ferocious,
others satirical, every one of them as true to nature as could be.
"Where am I?" asked ALICE.
"In the gallery of the Fine Arts Society, 148, New Bond Street."
"And, please, who has done all these wonderful things?"
"The great J. T.," was the reply.
And then she fell to admiring them. She had some difficulty in getting
to the drawings, for every picture was surrounded by a little crowd
of worshippers. And she was not in the least surprised, because the
devotion had been justly earned. Before her she found a specimen of
the labours of nearly half a century. Everything good and beautiful.
"Dear me!" she murmured, as she approached No. 160 in the Catalogue.
"Why here I am myself! I am so glad I am like that. What should I have
been had I not had so kind an artist to sketch me?"
And the possibility opened out such a vista of disasters that ALICE
was almost moved to tears. But she soon regained her gaiety when she
had glanced at "_Winding 'em up_" (No. 161), "_A Bicycle built for
Two_" (No. 148), and "_The Mask of Momus_" (No. 99).
"But shall I meet the Knights?" she asked, after a while. "I should,
because I certainly am living in Wonderland."
Then there was a chorus crying, "This is the work of the Black and
White Knight, the greatest of all the Knights--good Sir JOHN."
And ALICE agreed in an opinion held by all the world.
* * * * *
ANOTHER TESTIMONIAL TO THE G. O. M.--In recognition of his most recent
contribution to sacred literature. Mr. G. is to be presented with the
freedom of the Dry-Psalter's company.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE EXPRESSED DIFFERENTLY.
_She._ "I'M SURPRISED TO SEE YOUR WIFE IN SUCH A _VERY_ LOW GOWN THIS
COLD EVENING, BARON! I HEARD SHE WAS DELICATE."
_He._ "ACH, NO! SHE VOS. BUT NOW, SANK HEAFEN, SHE IS KVITE
_IN_DELICATE AGAIN!"]
* * * * *
"QUOUSQUE TANDEM?" OR, ONE AT A TIME.
_Duologue in a Dog-cart._
_Driver._ Tc-c-c-h-k! Tc-c-c-h-k!!
_Officious Friend._ Steady there! Wo-o-o-a!!
_Driver_ (_aside_). Confound the fellow! I wish he wouldn't fidget so.
_Officious Friend_ (_aside_). _He_ drive tandem? Wish he'd hand the
ribbons to _me!_
_Driver_ (_aloud_). Leader steps along, doesn't he?
_Officious Friend_ (_aloud_). Ya-a-s. Bit _too_ fast, I fancy. Forgets
that the wheeler has to do the work.
_Driver._ Humph! Not so sure of that, in this case. Rather weedy, you
know, and just a bit of a slug, if you ask me. _I_ think they'd do
better reversed--this journey, anyhow.
_Officious Friend_ (_testily_). Nonsense! You never _have_ done that
wheeler justice. Fact is you don't understand the horse's character,
or how to get the best out of him. Now I----
_Driver_ (_adapting old Trin. Coll., Cam., Recitation_).
"Fact is, he understood computing
The odds at any bye-election;
Was a dead hand at elocuting,
Satire, and candidate-selection;
But, like his parallel, Lord RANDOM,
He couldn't, somehow, drive a tandem."
_Officious Friend._ What _are_ you muttering about? You know I'm not
up in poetry. As to poor Lord RANDOM, he was a smart whip, anyhow,
and though I don't agree with "Z" in his impertinent comparisons,
still----
_Driver._ Still? Well, I wish you'd _sit_ still, old fellow, and not
fidget with the reins. You're fretting that leader awfully.
_Officious Friend._ Confound the leader! Leaders, equine
or--otherwise--(_sotto voce_: I was _going_ to say asinine!)--are so
apt to give themselves airs, and fancy they're pulling all the weight.
Old G., for example!
_Driver._ Ah! and he's not the _only_ instance.
[_Sighs._
_Officious Friend._ If G. had taken my tip, he'd never have upset the
coach as he did. But handlers of the ribbons are always so obstinate.
Look out! Mind that finger-post! Why, the leader nearly ran into it.
_Driver._ Not at all, dear boy. But we'll run into _something_, and be
both spilt if you don't leave off twitching at the reins.
_Officious Friend_ (_reading finger-post_). Leamington! Hythe! Aha!
Now I think--as I know these roads well--if you'd just let _me_----
_Driver_ (_decisively_). Look here, old man! You remember our Compact?
_Officious Friend_ (_impatiently_). Oh, of course, of course. But--I
don't quite understand it as you seem to do.
_Driver._ Humph! (_Again adapting._)
"Your Rule of the Road seems a paradox, quite;
For, in tooling our dog-cart along,
If _you_'re left with the reins you are sure to be right,
If the reins are _my_ right, it's all wrong."
_Officious Friend._ Oh, more poetry! What a chap you are for
Metaphysics and the Muses! Now the foundations of _my_ belief are
facts and figures.
_Driver_ (_meditatively_). It's a fact that the Tory total figures out
much larger than the Liberal Unionist.
_Officious Friend._ Oh, bother! What's that got to do with it! Our
Compact----
_Driver._ Is ours--not Leamington's it seems.
[_Hums._
"There was a man at Leamington,
Who thought it would be nice
To jump into a Tory seat
By help of Tory "ayes."
But if those "ayes" should be "put out,"
It _may_ prove no great gain
Jumping into a Tory seat
To please J. CH-MB-RL-N!"
_Officious Friend_ (_grabbing reins_). Here, I say! Whilst droning out
your doggerel you're forgetting your driving. Where _are_ you going?
Look at that dashed leader!
[_Leader faces sharp round and fidgets._
_Driver_ (_sharply_). No wonder! Woa, lad, woa! Why on earth did you
tug at the reins like that. I tell you that horse won't stand much
more of it. Do you want a spill as well as a split?
_Officious Friend._ Why, no! But according to our Compact, the
wheeler----
_Driver._ According to our Compact it's _my_ turn at the ribbons
to-day. One at a time, if you please. Do you call _this_ driving
tandem? We shall never get on like this! Are you driving this
dog-cart, or am I?
[_Left settling it._
* * * * *
[Illustration: "QUOUSQUE TANDEM?" OR, ONE AT A TIME.
ARTH-R B-LF-R (_driver, to officious friend_, JOE CH-MB-RL-N). "WE
SHALL NEVER GET ON LIKE THIS! AM I DRIVING OR ARE _YOU?_"]
* * * * *
[Illustration:
_Mrs. Smith._ "I THINK IT DREADFUL THAT YOUR DIVORCE LAWS IN AMERICA
SHOULD BE SO MUCH MORE LENIENT THAN THEY ARE IN ENGLAND."
_Mr. Van Rensselaer._ "WELL, YOU SEE, MY DEAR MADAM, IN ENGLAND
DIVORCE IS A LUXURY--WHILE WITH US IT IS--ER--A NECESSITY!"]
* * * * *