"_And thus bring to a triumphant issue the fight in which we are
engaged_;" _i.e._, Thank Heaven, I managed to get off my peroration all
right.
"_Our great Leader_;" _i.e._, "That's sure to make them cheer, and will
give me time to think."
* * * * *
[Illustration: SOCIAL ECONOMY.
_Mrs. Scrooge._ "I'M WRITING TO ASK THE BROWNS TO MEET THE JONESES HERE
AT DINNER, AND TO THE JONESES TO MEET THE BROWNS. WE OWE THEM BOTH, YOU
KNOW."
_Mr. Scrooge._ "BUT I'VE HEARD THEY'VE JUST QUARRELLED, AND DON'T
SPEAK!"
_Mrs. Scrooge._ "I KNOW. THEY'LL REFUSE, AND WE NEEDN'T GIVE A DINNER
PARTY AT ALL!"]
* * * * *
"MY CURATE."
[The _Law Times_ mentions that a photograph of a well-dressed and
good-looking gentleman has been sent to it, with the words "My
Advocate" beneath. On the back are the name and address of a
Solicitor.]
SCENE--_Drowsiham Vicarage._ Vicar _and Family discovered seated at
breakfast-table. Time--Present._
_The Vicar._ I only advertised for a Curate in last Saturday's _Church
Papers_, and already I have received more than sixty applications by the
post, all of them, apparently, from persons of the highest
respectability, whose views, too, happen to coincide entirely with my
own! Dear me! I suppose these may be called the "Clerical Unemployed."
_Elder Daughter (giddily)._ Pa! Have any of them sent photos?
_Vicar._ Yes, all of them. It seems to be the new method to inclose
_cartes-de-visite_ with testimonials.
_Younger Daughter._ Now I shall be able to fill up my Album!
_Elder Daughter (who has been running her eye over the pictures)._ This
is the pick of the lot, Pa. Take him! Such a dear! He's got an eyeglass,
and whiskers, and curly hair, and seems quite young!
_Younger Daughter (thoughtfully)._ It's a pity we can't lay in _two_
Curates while we are about it.
_Vicar._ Hem! A rather nice-looking young man, certainly. Let's see what
he says about himself. The new system saves a lot of trouble, as
candidates for posts write down their qualifications on the back of
their photographs.
_Elder Daughter (reading)._ "Views strictly orthodox." Oh, bother views!
Here's something better--"Very Musical Voice"--the _darling_! He _looks_
as if he had a musical voice. "Warranted not to go beyond fifteen
minutes in preaching." Delicious!
_Vicar's Wife._ I don't know if the parishioners will like _that_.
_Both Daughters (together)._ But _we_ shall!
_Elder Daughter (continues reading)._ "Quite content to preach only in
the afternoons. No attempts to rival Vicar's eloquence." What _does_ he
mean?
_Vicar (cordially)._ I know! I think he'll do very well. _Just_ the sort
of man I want!
_Elder Daughter._ Ha! Listen to this! "Can play the banjo, and
twenty-six games of lawn-tennis without fatigue." The pet!
_Younger Daughter._ Perfectly engaging! Oh, Pa, wire to him _at once_!
_Elder Daughter (turning pale)._ Stop! What is this? "Very steady and
respectable. _Has been engaged to be married for past three years!_"
Call _him_ engaging, indeed! No chance of it. The wretch!
_Younger Daughter._ A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing! Can't you prosecute him,
Pa?
_Vicar (meditatively)._ I might--in the Archbishop's Court. Really this
new self-recommendation plan, though useful in some ways, seems likely
to disturb quiet households. And I've fifty-nine more photos to look at!
[_Retires to Study, succumbs to slumber._
* * * * *
_SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER_ has been announced as in preparation at the
Criterion and the Vaudeville. Miss MARY MOORE v. Miss WINIFRED EMERY as
_Miss Hardcastle_. Which is to "stoop," and which to "conquer?" Why not
run it at both Houses?--and, to decide, call in a jury of "the
GOLDSMITH'S Company."
* * * * *
THE MAYFAIR ROW.--GOODE, BAIRD, and very indifferent.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE IMPERIAL SOCIALIST.
_A Song of the Situation._ _AIR--"The King and I"._ _Socialist Workman
sings_:--
_Emperor._ "I'M ONE OF YOU!" _Socialist._ "ALL RIGHT, MATE. THEN--TAKE
OFF YOUR CROWN!"]
The Kaiser swears that he can work;
So can I! So can I!
Strain and long hours he will not shirk.
Nor do I, nor do I.
But he may work at his sweet will;
So they say, so they say.
Whilst I must toil my pouch to fill;
A long day, a long day!
So there's _some_ difference I see
Betwixt the Emperor and me.
He hath his army and his ships;
Great are they! Great are they!
Their price, which my lean pocket nips,
I must pay, I must pay.
Yet here he comes to grip my hand;
That's his plan, that's his plan;
And at my side to take his stand,
Working-man, working-man!
Strange that such likeness there should be
Betwixt the Emperor and me!
BISMARCK, it seems, he does not trust;
Nor do I, nor do I.
He thinks the toiler's claims are just;
So do I, so do I.
He's called a Conference of Kings,
Novel scheme, novel scheme!
To talk of Socialistic things--
Pleasant dream, pleasant dream!
What difference, now, would KARL MARX see
Betwixt my Emperor and me?
The "International" they banned.
_That_ was vile, _that_ was vile.
But now a similar thing _they've_ planned,
Makes me smile, makes me smile.
Labour world-over they'll discuss,
Far and near, far and near.
Will it all end in futile fuss?
That's my fear, that's my fear.
A difference of view I see
Betwixt the Emperor and me.
But here he comes to grip my fist,
Fair and free, fair and free.
Thinks he the chance I can't resist?
We shall see, we shall see.
I wear the Cap and he the Crown--
Awkward gear, awkward gear!
Is he content to put it down?
No, I fear; no, I fear.
If Workman I as Workman he,
Perhaps he'll just change hats with me!
* * * * *
THE FRENCH GALLERY.--Oddly enough the French Gallery contains but a
small proportion of French pictures. Possibly Mr. WALLIS thinks it is
not high-bred to appear too long in a French _rôle_--perhaps he fancies
the public would get crusty or the critics might have him "on toast."
Anyhow, he has taken French leave to do as he pleases, and the result is
very satisfactory. He does not lose our Frenchship by the change. There
are three remarkable pictures by Prof. FRITZ VON UHDE, and two by Prof.
MAX LIEBERMANN, which ought to make a sensation, and there is an
excellent MUNKACSY, besides a varied collection of foreign pictures.
* * * * *
MR. HENRY BLACKBURN, author of that annually useful work, _Academy
Notes_, is announced to give lectures at Kensington Town Hall, April 13.
One of his subjects, "Sketching in Sunshine," will be very interesting
to a Londoner. First catch your sunshine: then sketch. Mr. BLACKBURN
will be illuminated by oxy-hydrogen; he will thus appear as Mr.
White-burn; so altogether a light entertainment.
* * * * *
[Illustration: AT THE "ZOO."
_Arabella._ "OH, AUG----MR. BROWN, LET'S GO TO THE APEIARY. I THINK THE
MONKEYS ARE SUCH FUN!" [_He did not Propose that afternoon!_]]
* * * * *