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PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
VOL. 152.
SEPTEMBER 8, 1894.
IS THE BAR A PROFITABLE PROFESSION?
(_A Query to be answered during the Long Vacation._)
I am always reluctant to obtrude my personality upon the British
Public. All the world know my address in the Temple, and so long as
my learned friends who act as intermediaries between myself and the
litigation-loving public bear me in mind, I require no further
advertisement. However, I cannot close my eyes to Duty, and Duty
points to the pages of a paper that may be aptly called the organ of
the Bench, the Jury, and the Bar. I feel compelled to publish the
following short story in the columns of that organ as a proof of the
degeneracy of the profession to which I have the honour to belong. I
shall be only too pleased if my Spartan-like conduct proves of benefit
to my fellow-counsel. I write in their service, and without an eye--yes,
I venture to say half an eye--to the main chance. My narrative will
prove that ignorance, and, if I may be permitted to say so, unpardonable
ignorance exists at the Law Courts. I have kept silent until the Long
Vacation has commenced. My reason for this reticence is not difficult to
discover. Had I taken the public into my confidence at an earlier date,
it would be obvious that I might have suffered in professional status.
Now that the Long Vacation has been reached, there is ample time for the
process known as "living it down." But I will not anticipate.
[Illustration]
I must confess that I was not a little pleased the other day to learn
from my excellent clerk, PORTINGTON, that a representative of the firm
of CLOGS, JUDAS, AND FRIARS, were anxious to see me on a matter of
business.
"Have I had them as clients before?" I asked my worthy assistant.
"Oh, no, Sir," returned PORTINGTON. "You see, for the last five years
you have only had----"
"Yes, yes," I interrupted, for my excellent clerk is sometimes inclined
to become a trifle prosy. "I will see him at once. Is he in my room?"
"Well, no, Sir; as you said that Mr. INKERTON might use it for the
soda-water cases, I thought it would be better to show him into Mr.
BLOCK'S room. You see, Sir, it is tidier than your room; for since we
have had the lawn-tennis nets----"
But here I again interrupted my worthy assistant, who, I am forced to
admit, is sometimes a trifle discursive. I interrupted him, and,
entering BLOCK'S room, made the acquaintance of my new client.
"I think, Sir," said my visitor, "that you are of opinion that there is
no custom concerning the dismissal of office messengers?"
I never like to commit myself without referring to my books, so I was
silent for a moment.
"At least," continued my client, "you have not heard of any?"
"Well, no," I returned; "so far as my experience goes, I have not come
across the custom."
"That's quite enough for us, Sir. If you will swear that, we shall want
nothing further."
Rather to my disgust my visitor suddenly placed a _subpoena_ in my hand,
and told me that the case would most likely be in the list on the
following day. Annoyed at his brusqueness I told him I had been ready to
accept him gratuitously as a client. I added that as I now found I was
only in request as a witness I should require a guinea.
"Oh, of course," said my visitor, producing the cash. "We looked you
out, and your name is in the _Law List_; and I see, too, you have
painted it on the door of Mr. BLOCK'S chambers."
Disdaining to smile at what I considered to be rather a clumsy attempt
at _plaisanterie_, I bowed, and rang the bell.
"Perhaps we had better have your private address, Sir," continued my
visitor. "It would be safer, for then we could wire to you when it came
on, and you would be sure to get our telegram."
"I am always here while the Courts are sitting." I returned, in a tone
of _hauteur_; "so you must please wire to me here."
"Just as you like, Sir."
And a few minutes later my clerk saw my visitor safely off the premises.
I admit that I was slightly annoyed at the term "wire." It is true that
his firm's name had not appeared--at any rate, recently--in my fee-book,
but that was no reason why he should suggest that I was constantly
absent from my chambers. I really pitied Messrs. CLOGS, JUDAS AND FRIARS
for having a clerk with so little tact, and such a small stock of
experience.
On the following morning, when I was standing at the door of the Carey
Street Robing Room, considering whether I should assume my forensic
costume, or enter the Court as a layman, I was accosted by the same
individual, who told me "that we were third on the list."
"So you will be wanted almost at once, Sir," said he.
"Well, I shall be able to come," I replied, "as, strange to say, I have
no business before their Lordships to-day."
"Chiefly chamber practice, I suppose, Sir?"
"Quite so," I returned, looking him steadily in the face. "I mean
to-day."
I will not tell a wearisome story of how I had to hang about the Court
until the interval for luncheon, and longer. I will hurry to the point
when I entered the witness-box. To my surprise and secret satisfaction
there was quite a stir when my name was called out. The Silks in the
front row smiled, and my colleagues the juniors tittered. Even his
Lordship looked up with an expression of pleasant anticipation. I was
duly sworn, and gave my name.
"Now, Sir," said the Counsel for our side, "tell me. How long have you
known anything about office messengers?"
I considered for a moment. As a Member of the Bar (although I had not
been asked for my profession--no doubt that was sufficiently well known)
I desired to set an example. I wished to show what a witness should be.
I desired to appear as a model worthy of close and universal imitation.
"I have seen office messengers in offices for many years--as long as I
can remember."
I spoke with absolute gravity. To my astonishment there was a titter
which grew into a roar of laughter; even his Lordship found it difficult
to control his cachinnation.
"Yes," said the counsel, when he had partially recovered his gravity.
"But, tell me, do you know any custom in connection with their
dismissal?"
Again I considered the matter for a few seconds, and made a second
reply.
"No; I am unaware of any special custom in connection with their
dismissal."
This time there was no titter. My answer was received at once with the
wildest merriment. The Judge laughed as much as anyone, and the Usher
had to wipe his head with his handkerchief, so greatly moved was he by
his sense of the ridiculous.
My Counsel sat down convulsed, and had to conceal his face behind his
brief.
"I really don't think," gasped out the judge, "that this witness need be
cross-examined."
And I was not. As I returned to my seat amidst the smiles of everyone in
Court, a reporter asked me for my Christian name. Before I could reply,
one of my colleagues in wig and gown gave him what he supposed was the
necessary information.
"But you are wrong," I whispered, and (with a view of crushing him)
handed him my card.
"You don't say so," returned my learned friend; "why, we thought you
were PANTO,--the chap you know, who writes as 'YORICK' for the
_Serio-Comic Jester_."
And it had come to this! I had been taken, or rather mistaken, for a
humorous contributor! And this after about a quarter of a century's
service at the Bar! And yet there are those who say that the profession
is _not_ going to the dogs!
However, I must express my surprise at the conduct of the judge. It is
not ten years since that I had the pleasure of holding a consent brief
before him. And yet he had forgotten me! When the Bench is so forgetful,
how can Silk and Stuff be expected to have better memories!
_Pump-Handle Court_, (Signed) A. BRIEFLESS, JUNIOR.
_September 1, 1894._
* * * * *
"RHYMES."
Whatever the subject that people discuss,
Theology, law, architectural playthings--
St. Albans, for instance--there's ready for us
A lover of knock-me-down language to say things.
Lord GRIMTHORPE will instantly write to the _Times_.
His last learned homilies treated of rhymes.
_Ne sutor_--Lord GRIMTHORPE could tell you the rest,
Lord GRIMTHORPE could write you a letter about it,
Lord GRIMTHORPE, decidedly wisest and best
Of wise and good teachers, no person could doubt it;
Since, be what it may, he will write to the _Times_,
Church, chancery, chapels, chants, chamfers or chimes.
_Ne sutor_--the limit should never be past
But where is the limit? He tackles each squabbler.
We see each new letter, but never the last;
All things need repair, and Lord G. is the cobbler.
Cathedrals or canticles--still to the _Times_
He writes, some might say, neither reasons nor rhymes.
* * * * *
MILITARY WORD OF COMMAND FOR THOSE WHO HAVE "FALLEN IN LOVE."--Fall out!
* * * * *
[Illustration: SUPPLY AND DEMAND.
_Bill._ "WHAT _ARE_ THESE CHAPS, JIM?"
_Jim._ "WHY, THEY'RE ALL HEARLS AND MARKESSES, THEY TELL ME, AS IS DOWN
ON THEIR LUCK!"
_Bill._ "WELL, THEN, WOT'S THE GOOD OF THEIR MAKIN' NEW PEERS, WHEN ALL
THESE POOR NOBLEMEN ARE OUT OF A JOB?"]
* * * * *
SILLY SEASONING.
[Illustration]
The era of newspaper controversy has once more begun, and the wail of
the letter-writer is again heard in the land. The guileless reader may
possibly imagine that the letters he reads so readily are so many brands
plucked from the burning--in other words, so many contributions snatched
out of the Waste-Paper Basket. But _Mr. Punch_ knows better; the letters
are written where the controversy begins and ends--in the Newspaper
Office. Why should 85, Fleet Street lag behind its neighbours in
journalistic controversy? If the largest circulations have their
leader-writers, has not _Mr. Punch_ his "young men"? The following
letters, therefore, it is frankly admitted, were written in Fleet
Street. Please notice the careless grace with which "Peckham Rye" and
the "Borough Road" are thrown in to give an air of "verisimilitude to a
bald and unconvincing narrative" as POOH BAH said. The subject of the
correspondence gave some small amount of trouble. "Is Sleeping healthy?"
was one suggestion; "Ought Husbands to kiss their Wives?" another.
Eventually "The Ethics of the Honeymoon" won by a narrow majority, after
a close division. Of course it need hardly be said that the subject
ought to be matrimonial. It's expected of you. The public look for it.
They shall get it. Here are some of the letters:--
THE ETHICS OF THE HONEYMOON.
DEAR SIR,--I desire in your valuable paper to draw attention to
a question which I have been carefully considering for a great
number of years: Are Honeymoons right? Man and boy I have been a
bachelor these forty years, and as such have had peculiar and
extensive opportunities for seeing that "most of the game" which
is reserved for outsiders. As the result of my observation, I
confidently assert that honeymoons are useless, dangerous, and
ought to be abolished. They are useless in that the only people
they profit are the hotel-keepers. They are dangerous to the
happy pairs, who see enough of one another in a fortnight to
imperil their happiness for a lifetime. Abolition is clearly the
only remedy, and a Hyde Park Demonstration should settle the
matter.
Yours faithfully,
TOM E. ROT.
_Peckham Rye._
DEAR MR. PUNCH,--However can anyone ask such a foolish question
as "Are Honeymoons right?" I shall never forget mine. It was one
long dream. We spent the time in Switzerland and £300 in cash.
We're still paying interest on the money EDWIN borrowed to pay
for it. But what of that? The time we spent was a poem, the
recollection of it is a rapture. Though I should never be
fortunate enough to spend another, I shall always rejoice in my
first honeymoon.
Yours matrimonially,
ANGELINA MANDOLINE.
_The Cosy Corner, Swiss Cottage._
SIR,--I object to honeymoons because those who take part in them
are so unsociable. What greater disfigurement to a landscape
than a lot of couples honeymooning about? The whole thing is
such a farce, too--each would rather speak to some one else,
both are afraid of offending one another. To prevent anyone
thinking I say this because I've been bitten myself, I may add
that my first honeymoon was such a success that next week I'm
going to get married again, and take another.
Yours,
A WIDOWER.
_1097, Borough Road, S.E._
* * * * *
On a Heroine of our Day.
Her very naughtiness is droll,
There's fun in her worst folly,
In fact she's no Society Doll,
But a Society "Dolly."
On her the straightest-laced spectator
Bestows his benediction,
And owns her keen and skilled creator
A Hope of English fiction.
* * * * *
THE LAW OF THE (SOCIAL) JUNGLE.
MR. RUDYARD KIPLING has given us in his own inimitable way a sample of
Jungle Law, which, as he says, is of "immense complexity." Now Society
is also a Jungle, the Human Jungle. In it the _Bête-Humaine_
congregates, for a variety of purposes. Its laws also are complex, and
_wonderfully like those of the Wolves_ as _Baloo_ gave them in
sing-song. For example:--
(_For "Wolf" read "Worldling," for "Jungle" the "Social World."_)
Now this is the Law of the Jungle--so ancient that no one asks "Why?"
And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall
break it must fly,
As the cobweb that meshes the corners, the Law nets Society's track--
For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf
is the Pack.
I.
"Tub" daily from head-crown to toe-tip; drink freely but seldom _too_
deep:
And remember the night is for larks, and forget not the day is for
sleep.
II.
The Jackal may sponge on the Lion; but, Cub, when thy whiskers are
grown,
Remember the Wolf is a hunter--go forth and track prey of thine own.
III.
Keep peace with the Lords of the Jungle, the Hebrew, the Bobby, the
Beak;
And fool not with Elephant Law, which is given to squelching the weak.
IV.
When Pack crosses Pack in the jungle, and neither will budge from the
trail,
Lie down till the Lawyers have spoken, for tongue against tooth _may_
prevail!
V.
When ye fight with a Wolf of the Pack, do not fight him alone or afar,
Let others look on at the scrimmage, the Pack is amused by such war.
VI.
The House of the Wolf is his refuge, and where he has made him his
home,
If he is a Wolf of fair cunning, not e'en County Councils may come.
VII.
The House of the Wolf is his refuge, but let him shun odorous drain,
Or the Council will send him a "Notice," and he'll have to "repair"
it again.
VIII.
If ye hunt after midnight be careful, and block not the public
highway.
Lest ye draw the police from their gossips, and have Forty Shillings
to pay.
IX.
Ye may kill female souls for your pleasure, may snare them the best
way ye can,
But mind you don't poach on preserves that belong to a wealthier man!
X.
If ye plunder his Kill from a weaker, don't put on _too_ much
"blooming side."
Some deeds it is lawful to do, which, as being "bad form," you should
hide.
XI.
The "form" of the Pack is the law of the Pack. It will pardon white
lies,
And a wriggle or two, but that Wolf's a gone coon who the Pack "form"
defies.
XII.
The Kill of the Wolf is the meat of the Wolf. He may do what he will
With his prey when he's hunted it down; but he shouldn't let pals
_see_ him kill.
XIII.
Cub-Right is the right of the Minor. For deeds of crass folly or shame
He may put in the plea, "I'm an Infant!" and Law will acknowledge the
same.
XIV.
Sale-Right is the right of the Mother. For all her she-cubs she may
claim
The right of free-market (or marriage), and none may deny her the
same.
XV.
Law-Right is the right of the Male. He has made Jungle-law all his
own,
He is free of all voice of the Female; and judged by the he-wolves
alone.
XVI.
Because of his age and his cunning, his grip and his power of jaw,
In all that the Law leaveth open the word of King Mammon is Law.
_Now these are the Laws of the Jungle, to sway human Wolves where they
swarm;
But the head and the front of the Law, the beginning and end
is--CONFORM!_
Wonderful, is it not, how little the Law of the Wolf requires modifying
to make it the Law of the Worldling! The reason, perhaps, is that the
average Worldling is so very much _like_ a Wolf, especially in
gregariousness and greed for prey!
* * * * *
[Illustration: A "NEW WOMAN."
_The Vicar's Wife._ "AND HAVE YOU HAD GOOD SPORT, MISS GOLDENBERG?"
_Miss G._ "OH, RIPPIN'! I ONLY SHOT ONE RABBIT, BUT I MANAGED TO INJURE
QUITE A DOZEN MORE!"]
* * * * *
LYRE AND LANCET.
(_A Story in Scenes._)
PART X.--BORROWED PLUMES.