[Illustration]
O "Englishman in Paris," do not think
That I refer to your amusing book;
I write of those who do not care "a tinker's
cuss" for look!
Not you who dress in Paris as at home,
Because the Frenchman is as good as you,
Top-hat, frock-coat--in fact do all in Rome
As Rome would do.
But you, attired in such eccentric ways,
Who travelled here with tickets which you took
Perhaps from enterprising Mr. GAZE,
Or Mr. COOK.
And from some stupid, slow, suburban spot,
Or prim provincial parish, come arrayed
In clothes which your own gardener would not
Wear for his trade.
Oh why offend the Frenchman's cultured sight
With such a 'ARRY'S outin' sort of air?
Do you consider knickerbockers quite
The thing to wear?
The Frenchman, just as sensible as we,
Calls "toppers" hateful, horrid, heavy, hot;
In Paris, as in London, still you see
The chimney-pot.
A linen collar hygiene abhors.
And yet he wears it. You don't care a rap;
You sport your flannel-shirt, and, out of doors,
Your tourist cap.
Magnificent contempt for foreign lands!
"Frog-eating Frenchy dress!" you say, and smile,
"He imitates, but never understands
True London style."
Unconquered Briton, you are right no doubt!
Descendant of the woad-clad ones, that's true!
And yet he never imitates a lout,
A cad, like you.
* * * * *
HER PARLIAMENTARY KNOWLEDGE.--Mrs. R. is an intelligent student of the
Parliamentary Reports in the _Times_. On Tuesday, in last week, her
niece read this aloud--"8.30. _On the return of the SPEAKER, after the
usual interval_"---- "That," observed the worthy lady, interrupting,
explaining it to her niece, "is the interval allowed for
refreshment--ten minutes I believe,--go on, my dear." Then her niece
continued--"_Sir T. LEA, who was interrupted by a count_"---- "Stop,
my dear!" exclaimed our old friend, indignantly. "What I want to know
is, how did that Count come there? Was he in the Strangers' Gallery?
And if he interrupted why wasn't he at once turned out of the House?
On second thoughts," she added, "he must have been a foreigner, and so
they made some excuse for him."
* * * * *
[Illustration: SPEECHES TO BE LIVED DOWN.
_Country House Hostess._ "SO GLAD YOU COULD COME, MR. VANDYKE! I'M
AFRAID YOU'LL FIND US RATHER DULL. WE'RE QUITE A SMALL PARTY!" _Mr.
Vandyke._ "OH NO. I SHALL BE OUT NEARLY ALL DAY, YOU KNOW!"]
* * * * *
"A SAIL! A SAIL!"
(_Extracts from a New (Parliamentary) Version of "The Rime of the
Ancient Mariner._")
[Sidenote: An Ancient Mariner meeteth a sorely-pressed M.P.
hurrying to a Division, and stoppeth him.]
It is an Ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth an M.P.
"By thy scant white hair and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?
"The lobby doors are open wide,
And if I don't get in,
But give the slip to our stern Whip,
Just won't there be a din!"
He holds him with his skinny hand.
"There was a Ship!" quoth he.
The Member pressed he beat his breast,
Suppressing a big, big D!
[Sidenote: The sorely-pressed M.P. is spell-bound by the eye
of the Grand Old Seafaring Man, and constrained to hear his
tale.]
He holds him with his glittering eye;
The Member pressed stands still.
And listens, though exceeding wild--
The Mariner hath his will.
The Member pressed sits on a post,
He cannot choose but hear;
And thus speaks out that Grand Old Man,
The bright-eyed Mariner--
[Sidenote: The Mariner tells how the good ship _H.M.
Government_ sailed for Ireland with a good wind and fair
weather till she reached a certain Line.]
The Ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,
Merrily did we drop,
Laden with many a blessed Bill
From kelson to orlop,
The Sun of hope had left the left,
Out in the cold they be.
But it shone bright on the (SPEAKER'S) right
When we put forth to sea.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Where the Ship is driven by a storm (of Opposition)
toward the Poll.]
And now the Storm-blast came, and he
Was tyrannous and strong.
He struck with his opposing wings,
And set our course all wrong.
With sloping masts and dipping prow,
As who pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the coat-tail of his foe
And feeleth for his head,
The Ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,
And Winterward we fled.
[Sidenote: Till a great lolloping, hindering, inopportune
sea-bird, called the Albatross, came through the snow-fog, and
was received with great joy and hospitality--by our opponents.
And lo! the Albatross proveth a bird of ill-omen, impeding the
progress of the Ship in most aggravating fashion.]
At length did cross an Albatross:
Through fog and frost it came;
A noisy, rude, Obstructive bird;
Devoid of sense or shame.
Day after day it blocked our way,
As round and round it flew.
In spite of it, by patient wit,
Our helmsman steered us through.
When a fair wind sprang up behind,
The Albatross did follow,
And every day hindered our way,
Despite the Mariner's hollo!
In mist or cloud it strove to shroud
Our course athwart the brine,
Night after night it led to fight,
And kicking up of shine.
[Sidenote: The Ancient Mariner incontinently killeth the bird
of ill-omen.]
"God help thee, Ancient Mariner!
From the fiends that plague thee thus!
What did'st thou do?" With my closure-bow
_I shot the Albatross!!!_
* * * * *
[Sidenote: When the fog cleared his shipmates justified the
same, and thus make themselves accomplices therein.]
Now round and red, like a Scotchman's head,
The glorious Sun uprist:
Then all averred I had killed the bird
That brought the fog and mist.
'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay
That brought the fog and mist.
[Sidenote: The fair breeze continues; the Ship enters the Sea
of Silence by the Straits of Gag.]
The fair breeze blew, the gag-saved crew,
Were from Obstruction free;
We were the first that ever burst
Into that _silent sea_!
[Illustration: "A SAIL! A SAIL!"
("_The Rime of the Ancient Mariner._")]
[Sidenote: The Ship is suddenly becalmed, and findeth that
enforced silence means not peaceful progress.]
Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,
'Twas sad as sad could be;
With flopping sail of what avail
The silence of the sea?
Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
[Sidenote: The Spirit of Obstruction had followed in
spook-like silent, sub-marine secrecy.]
And some in dreams assured were
Of the spirit that plagued us so;
Nine fathom deep he had followed us,
From the land of mist and snow.
If this be so, my shipmates said,
What use that bird to shoot?
We make no way, no more than if
We were shackled hand and foot.
[Sidenote: The shipmates, in their sore distress, are tempted
to throw the blame on the Ancient Mariner.]
Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
My gain seemed loss, the Albatross
Around my neck was hung.