_Algy._ Waiter! bring me a brandy-and-soda. Don't feel up to the
average to-day.
_Hughie._ Late last night?
_Algy._ Yes. Went to Mrs. CRAMMERLY's Dance, Prince's Gate. Goodness
knows _why_ I went! I don't think they'll get me there again in a
hurry.
_Charlie_ (_waking up from arm-chair_). Were _you_ a victim too? I
didn't see you there!
_Algy._ No. Because I probably left before you arrived. I had had
enough of it in an hour, and came on here to supper; not before I
had nearly poisoned myself with a concoction that old CRAMMERLY was
asserting loudly, was an "'80 wine."
_Charlie_ (_laughing_). Ah! my dear friend, _I_ had been there before,
and knew the ropes. Took pretty good care to steer clear of the wine,
and got a chap to give me a whiskey-and-soda.
_Uninvited Member._ May I ask where was this charming Party?
_Algy._ At the CRAMMERLY's, Prince's Gate. Colonel CRAMMERLY.
_Uninvited M._ Colonel CRAMMERLY! Let's see, was he an old Crimea man?
_Algy._ _No_!--He _was_ Colonel in the Bounders Green Volunteers.
(_Roars of laughter._) You know "CRAMMERLY's Starch"--made a fortune
out of it.
_Charlie._ He must have spent a bit of it last night. They say the
flowers alone cost over a thousand pounds.
[Illustration]
_Enter_ Captain O.
_Captain O._ Talking about the Colonel CRAMMERLY Party, eh? (_To_
Uninvited M.) Were you there?
_Uninvited M._ (_very satirically_). Oh, dear no! I fear I'm not
smart enough to warrant my admittance into that _charmed_ and _select_
circle. [_Roars of laughter._
_Capt. O._ By Jove, you were well out of it. (_Addressing the Club
generally._) Did--you ever see such--eh?
_Charlie._ I want to know where the deuce they get their men from.
_Algy._ I fancy they discover them in the City.
_Jack._ _I_ never met--such shocking people before.
_Capt. O._ Too dreadful for words. I could only conclude they must
have been relations. [_Roars of laughter._
_Jack._ By the way, did you notice that there was a "bounder" who was
reversing?
_Uninvited M._ (_with great indignation_). No!!!
_Jack._ I tell you it's a positive fact--I know it to my cost; for I
was dancing with that youngest daughter, you know--the one who has the
fluffy fringe over her forehead--and the brute bounced against us,
and sent us flying. Never even apologised. If I could have got him
outside, I declare I would have given him a deuced good hiding. A man
like that ought to be kicked.
_Uninvited M._ Were the women any better?
_Algy._ Well, if you call Mrs. DASH any better!
_Uninvited M._ (_with tragic intensity_). You _don't_ mean to say
_she_ was there!
_Algy._ I _do_.
_Uninvited M._ But do you mean to say that Mrs. CRAMMERLY has heard--
_Jack._ No. She's deaf. [_Laughter._
_Uninvited M._ Well, you _do_ surprise me! (_After a long pause._) Any
other shining lights of London Society?
_Jack._ No--except that fearful Mrs. JUSSOPH and her daughters, who
honoured me with an invitation to their afternoon party at their
suburban residence at _West Kensington_. I don't know whether you
regard them as an illumination. [_Roars of laughter._
_Uninvited M._ (_triumphantly._) Good gracious! Then there was
positively no one there that one knows.
_Algy_ (_thinking he has said something original_). No one, that one
_wants_ to know.
_Uninvited M._ I suppose the whole thing was done for an
advertisement--?
_Algy._ Possibly. Anyhow, once bitten, twice shy. They won't get _me_
inside their stuccoed palace again.
_Chorus of Those who were at the Party._ Same here! [_Pause._
_Capt. O._ (_lighting cigar by candle_). By the way, JACK, did old
CRAM. ask you to Scotland for the 12th?
_Jack._ Yes.
_Capt. O._ So he did me. Shall you go?
_Jack._ It depends--I think so--if I don't get anything better. I'm
told it's a wonderful shoot. They pulled down over a thousand birds
the first day, last year.
_Capt. O._ Does old CRAMMERLY shoot?
_Jack._ Oh dear no! He's as blind as a bat. He only rents it for his
friends.
_Capt. O._ (_greatly relieved_). That's good news, for he's a terrible
bore. He'd be a shocking nuisance on the Moors. I must say, I can't
stand _him_ at any price.
_Jack._ No, nor any of the family, for the matter of that. Well, ta,
ta! Perhaps we shall meet there. I'm off to the Empire, to join some
friends who've got a box.
[_Exit to enjoy further hospitality._
* * * * *
"PERFIDIOUS ALBION" AGAIN.--Lieutenant MIZON, with his grievances
against the British Niger Company, was _fêted_ last week in Paris.
To inform Frenchmen that the British Company in question is not so
_niger_ as it has been painted would be useless at the present moment,
when Frenchmen are still loud in their applause of the speech made by
the Prefect of the Seine in such a _Mizon-scène_. [N.B.--_Jeu de mot_
forwarded by our own "Prefect of the In-Seine."]
* * * * *
FROM NEWCASTLE.--Mr. HAMOND, M.P. for Newcastle, charged Mr. JOHN
MORLEY with having made a certain statement. Mr. MORLEY denied it, and
asked Mr. HAMOND to substantiate the charge. Mr. HAMOND could not do
this, nor did he apologise. Is this the "_'Amond honorable_"?
* * * * *
[Illustration: SIR CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ; OR, THE INSULTING SULTAN AND
THE HIGH-TONED CHRISTIAN KNIGHT.
_A MODERN MOORISH BALLAD, AFTER THE FASHION OF BON GAULTIER._]
Brave Sir CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ! basely have they borne thee down;
Thousands, thirty, would they tip thee as a churl they'd tip a
crown?
Thou at home hadst shown that Sultan with emphatic toe the door;
In Morocco thou didst coolly turn thy back upon the Moor.
Long in fiery Fez he lingered, subtle SMITHEZ, being bound
To contract Commercial Treaty with the minions of MAHOUND.
Full eight weeks' negociations smoothed that Treaty's parlous way;
On the fifth July the Sultan swore it should be signed next day.
But the false Frank's furtive whisper at the Sultan's ear was heard.
(When the Frank may foil the Saxon won't he do so? Like a bird!)
And the treacherous Moorish Monarch, to his people's interest blind,
Sold the sham he dubbed his honour, changed the thing he deemed
his mind.
"Christian Knight," began the Monarch ("knight" was diplomat for
"dog"),
"There is something in your Treaty, that I relish--like roast hog.
Know Morocco is no home for Factories and Colossal Stores;
And the omnipresent Bagman is a bugbear to my Moors!
"All my Cadis, all my ladies, wish at--Hades Western Trade.
You must make large alterations in the Treaty we've half made;
Shape it not in Christian interests, Christian Knight, but in
MAHOUND's,
And--incline thine ear!--I'll give thee, Christian, Thirty
Thousand Pounds!!!"
Enter black slave bearing Treasure! Rangèd bags of glittering gold!
Then upspake brave EUAN-SMITHEZ. "Hold, base Sultan; minion, hold!
Dost thou think to bribe and buy a Christian Knight? A Paynim plan!
If _I_ take it, thou mayst sell me to a Moorish dog's-meat man!"
Then his steed obeyed his master, and he whinnied loud and free,
Turned his back upon the tempter, caracoled with coltish glee;
Struck out with his heels behind him, smote that slave upon the
nose,
Kicked the bags until the bullion in a Danaë shower arose.
Never DON FERNANDO's charger, _Bavieca_, gave such spring,
In the sawdust-sprinkled circus of AL-WIDDICOMB, the King!
Never did DON GOMERSALEZ fill the Moslem with more fear,
When he smote him o'er the mazzard with his streak-o'-lightning
spear!
And the scattered gold flew widely, urged by that prodigious kick,
Smote the Frank behind the throne, although he dodged amazing quick;
Spattered that insulting Sultan, like a splash of London mud,
Blackening his dexter eye, and from his "boko" drawing blood.
Then Sir CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ gave that Moorish Sultan beans,
Holding it foul scorn--as did the pluckiest of Christian Queens--
a Christian Knight should take an insult from a turban'd Moor,
Without landing him a hot 'un, without giving him what-for!
Speed thee, speed thee, noble charger! Speed thee faster than the
wind!
Stout Sir CARLOS EUAN-SMITHEZ leaves that Moorish Fez behind;
Shakes its sand from off his shoes, and, having wiped the Sultan's
eye,
Turns his back, and takes his hook, without e'en wishing him
"Good-bye!"
* * * * *
[Illustration: PARLIAMENTARY PRIVILEGE.
_Wife of the Late Member for Tooting._ "ARCHIBALD, WHY WERE YOU SO
GRUMPY AT THE BIGGE BOOTHBYS' TO-NIGHT?"
_L.M. for T._ "SUCH PEOPLE, SUCH A DINNER, FOR A MAN WHO HAS JUST LOST
HIS SEAT!"
_Wife._ "I'M SURE PARLIAMENT DIDN'T DO ANYTHING FOR YOU!"
_L.M. for T._ "AT LEAST IT SPARED ME THIS SORT OF THING HAPPENING SIX
TIMES A WEEK!"]
* * * * *