Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 93, September 24, 1887

_Another Rule._--No theatrical entertainment should last more than two hours with entr'actes of seven minutes each. The ventilation of the salle de spectacle should be assured.

If a company wanted to play a piece in four Acts, they must stop here two days; and, if they couldn't do that, then they must begin their performance in the afternoon, have one entr'acte of an hour and a half to allow for dinner, and recommence at eight o'clock. I would discourage all evening indoor entertainments. Music, coffee, petits chevaux, M. GUIGNOL'S show, ombres chinoises, everything in fact that can be done _al fresco_--(and why not good plays al fresco? After the Laboucherian Midsummer Night's Dream, at Twickenham, which I am told was perfection)--_cafes chantants_, and so forth, including the "_consommation_ devoutly to be wished," and all the lights out by 9.30. Lights in bedrooms to be extinguished same hour. This rule would mean, Early to bed, and early to rise, and the "_baigneurs_" would receive double the benefit they derive from these places, as now constituted. Life in the open air should be the rule; plenty of exercise, riding and walking, and regular hours for everything for three weeks. The baigneurs to choose their own hours, and be kept to them strictly.

But I have personally no sympathy with the baigneurs who find such a water-cure place as Royat dull. What do they want? If they cannot get on without a sort of continuation of the London Season, let them stay away altogether. Don't let them come and make night hideous with balls, suppers, dances, and won't-go-home-till-morning parties.

The above are my suggestions for the improvement of Royat; and now I go on to La Bourboule, and Mont Dore. By the way, the waters at these places are all supplied, as I am credibly informed, from the same source; but the waters flowing towards La Bourboule and Mont Dore traverse certain couches on their way, and come out arsenical. It is strong drinking at La Bourboule and Mont Dore.

One Joanne Guide introduces you to another Joanne Guide, or a history, you can't help yourself. The Joanne Guides are so united a family, that as soon as any member of it establishes itself on a friendly footing with you, your hand is always in your pocket while you are travelling on that Guide Joanne's account. An insidious tribe: and they make themselves absolutely essential to the traveller's existence and comfort.

JUPITER PLUVIUS, Sluicer, full-spout, Downpour diluvious, Pumped on the Drought. Checked, aloud crying, The voice of the Swain; The rootcrops be dying, From long lack of rain!

PLUVIUS poured away, While the wind blew; TONANS, he roared away, Hullaballoo, Kicking up, dweller In quarters on high, He, Cloud Compeller; The Czar of the sky.

Clouds, in convulsion, Or calm, he keeps under; Rules, by compulsion: The reason of thunder. So did he lately Compel them to rise, Piled up in stately Array on the skies.

Castles aerial, Splendid when falls, Sheen on etherial Vapoury halls, Battlements, bartizans, Phantoms of towers, Fenced round with partisans; Cloud-cauliflowers.

Mountainous forms In the realms of felicity, By Jove, to move storms, Fraught with force--electricity, They serve to betoken What mortals may tell; The weather is broken: Summer, farewell!

The Times says that experiments are being made at Cap de la Heve, near the mouth of the Seine, on the production of electricity for lighthouse purposes by means of the force obtained by windmills. Light from wind! Could the notion be applied at St. Stephen's? The Session just over has been mainly wind, so exceptionally "ill wind," that it has blown no good to anybody, and most certainly has thrown no "light" on anything. By all means let M. DE L'ANGLE-BEAUMANOIR be empowered to experiment on the windbags of the House of Commons when they next meet.

Here I come in complete Constitutional coat (That's English, you know; quite English, you know): The type of true Monarchy based on the Vote. (That's English, you know; quite English, you know.) To have a legitimate King on the throne, To make all the Country's best interests his own, Great, grand, patriotic, but not overgrown (That's English, you know; quite English, you know).

Chorus.

Oh, the things that you see and the things that you hear Are English, you know; quite English, you know. My mind, like my last Manifesto, 'tis clear, Is English, quite English, you know!

Just now a great calm meets the national eyes (That's English, you know; quite English, you know). But imminent perils it cannot disguise (That's English, you know; quite English, you know). We have deserved well of Conservative France; A Monarchy only her bliss can enhance; And now of its nature I'll give you a glance (That's English, you know; quite English, you know).

Chorus.

The things will much please which you're going to hear (They're English, you know; quite English, you know). Legality banished must soon reappear (That's English, quite English, you know).

What one Congress does can't another undo? (That's English, you know; quite English, you know.) The Eternal Republic has gone all askew (Not English, you know; not English you know). 'Twill presently get quite incurably queer, And then will the Monarchy promptly appear. I fancy myself that the moment is near. (That's English, you know; quite English, you know.)

Chorus.

Mark the things which you see and the things which you hear (That's English, you know; quite English, you know). There's nothing that's solid or stable, I fear (That's English, quite English, you know.)

Direct, universal, free suffrage, my friends, (That's English, you know; quite English, you know). Will vote--well for Me, and all trouble then ends (That's English, you know; quite English, you know). The King, with the Chamber's concurrence, will rule. The Deputies then can no more play the fool,-- CLEMENCEAU, BOULANGER, and men of that school (That's English, you know; quite English, you know).

Chorus.

Heed the things which you see and the things you now hear (That's English, you know; quite English, you know). Economy, Order, and Justice sans fear! (They're English; quite English, you know!)

The Soldier and Citizen then will agree, (That's English, you know; quite English, you know,) The Press and the Priesthood alike will be free (That's English, you know; quite English, you know). Then will France to her ancient pre-eminence rise; The German will watch her with reverent eyes; All the Powers rush forward to be her allies (That's French, you know; very French, you know).

Chorus.

These things you shall see which you now only hear (That's certain you know; quite certain, you know): If only you'll let my new System appear. (That's English; quite English, you know!)

Constitutional principles, these, my good friend! (They're English, you know; quite English, you know)-- They Conservative needs and Equality blend, (That's English, you know; quite English, you know). Do at my new Royal rig-out take a glance! In this to the front I shall proudly advance, As the true King of all, and first Servant of France, (But English, you know; quite English, you know).

Chorus.

The things which I say it is time you should hear (They're English, you know; quite English, you know). The principles these to make France without peer (Though they're English; quite English, you know)!

Lady Customer. "NO, YOU NEED NOT SEND THEM. MY HUSBAND'S OUT GROUSE-SHOOTING, AND HE'LL CALL FOR THEM AS HE COMES HOME!!"

NOMENCLATURE.--Somebody calls the "Thunderer's" daily fulmination against Mr. GLADSTONE an ignis fatuus, or foolish fire of Party journalism. Would not "Whip poor Will" be a more suitable title?

My Dear Mr. Punch,

I have seen The Barrister at the Comedy, and want to see him again, because he is a most amusing gentleman and figures in a case full of good things. There are two authors--as there should be--a Leader and his Junior. Mr. GEORGE MANVILLE FENN (a very excellent novelist) is the "silk," and he has for his junior Mr. DARNLEY. This latter gentleman be it understood, represents only the best kind of "stuff," for the play is good throughout. It is in three Acts, and there is not a dull moment from commencement to finish. I do not feel equal to describing the plot, which is bustling and clever, nor to jotting down the jests which are funny and novel, nor to criticising the acting, which is all that it should be. My time was fully employed on the first night, in laughing, an occupation shared by the entire audience. The play was never in danger. There was not a weak spot. No, not even the space covered by Mr. DARNLEY'S moustache. It may be said that an earnest Barrister should be clean shaven, but the remark would only emanate from those who are bachelors. The married advocate has not only to consider his Judge and Jury, but also his wife, and nine times out of ten she combines in her own person the judicial functions with the power of the executive. Where all are good it seems invidious to particularise, but had I to call witnesses for the defence, I think I should choose Miss SUSIE VAUGHAN, and Messrs. MERVIN, CAFFREY AND PRINCE MILLER. Another great merit of The Barrister is that he is closely associated with the word "brief." He makes his appearance every evening at nine and has retired for the night before eleven. I fancy, that unlike many other "gentlemen of the long robe," he will have plenty of work to do during the Long Vacation and after.