_Two_ Well-Informed Men, _an_ Inquirer, _and an_ Average Man, _in
suburban morning train to London_.
_First Well-Informed Man_ (_reading his paper_). Oh, I say, dash it,
this'll never do. Here's this young KHEDIVE of Egypt kicking up a shine,
and dismissing British Ministers. We can't have that, you know.
_Inquirer._ What Ministers has he dismissed?
_First W. I. M._ Why, British Ministers,--at least (_reading on_) I mean
Egyptian Ministers; that's to say, chaps whom we appointed.
_Second W. I. M._ Come, come, we couldn't appoint Egyptian Ministers,
could we?
_First W. I. M._ Oh, it comes to exactly the same thing; they're
appointed subject to our proviso (_consulting paper_), yes, subject to
our veto, and then this little whipper-snapper goes and gives them the
chuck. He'll jolly soon have to climb down off that.
_Average Man._ Gently! The young chap's King, after all, isn't he? I
thought Kings might appoint or dismiss Ministers as they liked.
_First W. I. M._ Oh, rot! The QUEEN can't appoint her own Ministers. We
all know that. They're appointed by the Prime Minister. Any fool knows
that.
_Inquirer._ But who appoints the Prime Minister?
_First W. I. M._ He appoints himself, and tells the QUEEN he's done it.
They all go and kiss hands and get their seals, or something of that
sort.
_Inquirer._ Of course, of course. I forgot that. But how about these
Egyptian beggars?
_First W. I. M._ The KHEDIVE'S had the cheek to dismiss the Ministry, and
shove another lot in. I see Lord CROMER has been to the Palace to
protest.
_Inquirer._ Lord CROMER! Who's he?
_First W. I. M._ My dear fellow, fancy not knowing that! Lord CROMER'S
our Ambassador at Cairo.
_Second W. I. M._ Oh, nonsense. There are no ambassadors at Cairo.
_First W. I. M._ Aren't there? Oh, indeed. Well, then perhaps you'll tell
me what Lord CROMER is?
_Second W. I. M._ He's our Minister. That's what they call them.
_Inquirer._ Was it him the KHEDIVE dismissed, then?
_Second W. I. M._ (_laughing heartily_). No, no; we haven't got to that
yet. He dismissed his own Johnnies, of course; Egyptians. Lord CROMER'S
the English Minister.
_Average Man._ No, he isn't. He's the English Agent.
_Second W. I. M._ Oh, well, it's the same thing.
_First W. I. M._ (_taking his revenge_). No, it isn't at all the same
thing; it's a very different thing. A Minister's only just short of an
Ambassador, and an Agent (_pauses_)--well, he's something quite
different. I don't think he gets as much pay for one thing, and of course
he can't live in the Embassy.
_Inquirer._ But who does live in the Embassy, then?
_First W. I. M._ It's unoccupied, of course.
_Average Man._ No, it isn't. There isn't any Embassy at all. [_A pause._
_Inquirer_ (_returning to the charge_). But look here, who _is_ Lord
CROMER? I never heard of him before. I thought we'd got BARING or
ROTHSCHILD, or somebody representing us in Egypt.
_First W. I. M._ (_with smiling superiority_). My dear chap, you're
thinking of Sir EVELYN BARING. He left Egypt long ago.
_Inquirer._ Why did he leave?
_First W. I. M._ Old GLADSTONE gave him the sack.
_Second W. I. M._ No, he didn't. GLADSTONE wasn't in power when BARING
left Egypt. It was SALISBURY who dismissed him.
_First W. I. M._ I bet you a sov. it was GLADSTONE.
_Second W. I. M._ And I bet you a sov. it was SALISBURY.
_Average Man._ You'll both lose. It was neither.
_First W. I. M._, _Second W. I. M._ (_together_). Bosh! That's
impossible.
_Average Man._ It's a fact.
_First W. I. M._ (_triumphant_). Well, how do you account for his not
being there now?
_Average Man._ He is there.
_First W. I. M._ He isn't. Lord CROMER'S there. Here it is. (_Producing
Times._) "Lord CROMER has protested in person." So come!
_Average Man._ All right. I know all that. Only, unfortunately, they're
one and the same person.
_First W. I. M._, _Second W. I. M._ (_together_). Oh, I daresay; and you
think we're going to swallow that. You tell that to your Grandmother!
[_Both remain absolutely unconvinced._
_Inquirer._ But what's this about the French? What have they got to do
with it?
_Second W. I. M._ Oh, they've got their fingers in every pie; always
making mischief.
_First W. I. M._ Quite true; but they'll find we're going to sit tight in
spite of them, so the sooner they cart themselves and their blessed old
Pyramids out of the country the better.
_Inquirer._ Why should they take the Pyramids?
_First W. I. M._ Well, they built 'em, so I suppose they've got a right
to do what they like with them.
_Inquirer._ Of course. [_Terminus._
* * * * *
[Illustration: "H.M.S. 'TOKO.'"
_Nurse Britannia._ "ALLOW ME TO INFORM YOUR HIGHNESS HERE COMES A BOX OF
SOLDIERS YOU _MUSTN'T_ PLAY WITH."]
* * * * *
_The Red Spider_, by BARING GOULD, is to be dramatised. What a chance
this would have been for the "Brothers WEBB," were they still in
stage-land.
* * * * *
SOLE SURVIVORS.--The uppers of a Tramp's highlows.
* * * * *
SHARP FIGHTING AT RANGOON.--We hope soon to hear that the Kachins are
Kachin' it hot.
* * * * *
ADVICE TO THOSE "UP A GUM TREE" (_by "Non Possum_").--Come down as
quickly as you can, and don't stick there.
* * * * *
[Illustration: A LESSON IN FRENCH.
_Fräulein Schnips_ (_who does not devote as much attention to the Toilet
as she does to Study, addresses Master Edward who has been made to join
in his Sister's lessons during his holidays_). "EDFARD, FOT IS 'I VASH MY
HANDS' IN FRENCH?"
_Master Edward_ (_sulkily_). "JE ME LAVE LES MAINS."
_F. S._ "NOW DEN. 'I DO NOT VASH MY HANDS.' GU'EST-CE GUE C'EST GUE ÇA?"
_Master Edward_ (_seizing his opportunity_). "EH BIEN, C'EST UNE HABITUDE
SALE, DONT VOUS DEVRIEZ AVOIR HONTE!"]
* * * * *
"SOME DAY!"
(_Latest Egyptian Version of Milton Welling's popular Song._)