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Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98, February 8, 1890

Name: Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 98, February 8, 1890
Author: Various

by Various

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Language: en341 downloads on Project Gutenberg

Subjects

English wit and humor -- Periodicals

In: Punch·Humour·British Literature

Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #30033.

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"A Late Symposium! Yet they're not engaged In compotations. Argument hath raged Four hours by the dial; But zealotry of party, creed, or clique Marks not the clock, whilst of polemic pique There's one unvoided vial."

So smiled the Shade. Dusk coat and gleaming head, Viewed from above, before my gaze outspread Like a black sea bespotted With bare pink peaks of coral isles; all eyes Were fixed on one who reeled out rhapsodies In diction double-shotted.

A long and lofty room, with pillars cold, And spacious walls of chocolate and gold; The solid sombre glory Of tint oppressive and of tasteless shine, Dear to the modern British Philistine, Saint, sceptic, Whig, or Tory.

"No Samson-strength of intellect or taste Shall bow the pillars of this temple chaste Of ugliness and unction. What is't they argue lengthily and late? The flame of patriot passion for the State Fires this polemic function.

"A caitiff Government has done a thing To make its guardian-angel droop her wing In sickened indignation: That is, has striven to strengthen its redoubts, Perfidious 'Ins,' to foil the eager 'Outs.' Hence endless execration.

"Hence all Wire-pullerdom is up in arms; With clarion-toned excursions and alarms The rival camp is ringing. Hence perky commoners and pompous peers, 'Midst vehement applause and volleying cheers, Stale platitudes are stringing.

"The British Public--some five hundred strong-- Is here to 'strangle a Gigantic Wrong,'-- So MARABOUT is saying. Watch his wide waistcoat and his wandering eyes, His stamping boots of Brobdingnagian size, Clenched hands, and shoulders swaying.

"A great Machine-man, MARABOUT! He dotes On programmes hectographed and Party votes. For all his pasty pallor And shifty glance, he has the mob's regard, And he is deemed by council, club, and ward A mighty man of valour.

"A purchased henchman to a Star of State? Perhaps. But here he'll pose and perorate, A Brutus vain and voluble. And who, like MARABOUT, with vocal flux Of formulas, can settle every crux That wisdom finds insoluble?

"'Hear! hear!' That shibboleth of shallow souls Around his ears in clamorous cadence rolls; He swells, he glows, he twinkles; The sapient Chairman wags his snowy pate, Whilst cynic triumph, cautious yet elate, Lurks laughing in his wrinkles.

"And there sits honest zeal, absorbed, intent, And cheerfully credulous. MARABOUT has bent To the Commercial Dagon He publicly derides; but many here Will toast 'his genuine grit, his manly cheer,' Over a friendly flagon.

"Look on him later! There he snugly sits With his rich patron. Were it war of wits That wakes their crackling chuckles, They scarce were heartier. It would strangely shock MARABOUT'S worshippers to hear him mock The 'mob' to which he truckles.

"Truckles in platform speech. In club-room chat With WAGSTAFF, shrewd wire-puller, flushed and fat, Or DODD, the rich dry-salter, You'd hear how supply he can shift and twist, How BRUTUS with 'the base Monopolist' Can calmly plot and palter,"

"Whilst MARABOUTS abound, O Shade," I cried, "What wonder men are 'Mugwumps?'" Then my guide Laughed low. "The æsthetic villa Finds Shopdom's zeal on its fine senses jar; Yet the Mugwumps Charybdis stands not far From the Machine-man's Scylla.

"Culture derides the Caucus for its heat, Its hate--its absence of the Light and Sweet, So jays might flout the vulture. Partisan bitterness and purblind haste? Come, view the haunts of dilettante Taste, The coteries of Culture!

"Here Savants wrangle o'er a fossil bone, CHAMPER, with curling lip and caustic tone, At RUDDIMAN is railing. CHAMPER knows everything, from PLATO'S text To Protoplasm; yet his soul is vext, His cheeks with spite are paling.

"Why? Because RUDDIMAN, the rude, robust, Has pierced with logic's vigorous vulgar thrust The shield of icy polish. CHAMPER, in print, is hot on party-hate, Here his one aim is in the rough debate His rival to demolish.

"Sweet Reasonableness? Another host Of sages see! The habits of the Ghost, The Astral Body's action, Absorb them, eager. Does more furious fire The councils of the Caucusites inspire, Or light the feuds of faction?

"And there? They argue out with toil intense A 'cosmic' poet's esoteric sense, Of which a world, unwitting, Recks nothing. Yet how terribly they'd trounce Parliament's pettifogging, and denounce 'Political hair-splitting'!"

"O Shade, the difference is but small, one dreads. Betwixt logomachists at loggerheads, Whether their theme be bonnets Or British interests. Zealot ardour burns Scarce fiercer o'er Electoral Returns Than over SHAKSPEARE'S Sonnets.

"At MARABOUT the Mugwump sniffs and sneers; Gregarious 'votes of thanks' and sheepish 'cheers' Stir him to satire scornful. But when sleek Culture apes, irate and loud, The follies of the Caucus and the Crowd, The spectacle is mournful."

"True!" smiled the Shade. "Yon supercilious sage, With patent prejudice and petty rage, Penning a tart jobation On practised Statesmen, must as much amuse As Statesmen-sciolists venting vapid views On rocks and revelation."

(To be continued.)

A was the Anger evinced far and wide; B was the Boat-train delayed by the tide; C was the Chairman who found nothing wrong; D was the Driver who sang the same song; E was the Engine that stuck on the way; F stood for Folkestone, reached late every day; G was the Grumble to which this gave rise; H was the Hubbub Directors despise; I was the Ink over vain letters used; J were the Junctions which some one abused; K was the Kick "Protest" got for its crimes; L were the Letters it wrote to the Times; M was the Meeting that probed the affair; N was the Nothing that came of the scare; O was the Overdue train on its way; P was the Patience that bore the delay; Q was the Question which struck everyone; R the Reply which could satisfy none; S was the Station where passengers wait; T was the Time that they're bound to be late; U was the Up-train an hour overdue; V was the Vagueness its movements pursue; W stood for time's general Waste; X for Ex-press that could never make haste; Y for the Wherefore and Why of this wrong; And Z for the Zanies who stand it so long!

STARTLING FOR GOURMETS.--"_Bisques_ disallowed." But it only refers to a new rule of the Lawn Tennis Association; so "_Bisque d'écrevisses_" will still be preserved to us among the _embarras de richesse_--(i.e. the trouble caused subsequently by the richness,--_free trans._)--of a thoroughgoing French dinner.

Le Brav' Général tootles:--

Heroes bold owe much to bold songs. What's that? "Cannot sing the old songs"? Pooh! 'Tis a Britannic ditty. Truth, though, in it,--more's the pity! "_En revenant de la Revue._" People tire of that--too true! I must give them something new. Played out, Frenchmen? Pas de danger! Whilst you've still your Brav' BOULANGER!

Do they think BOULANGER "mizzles," After all his recent "fizzles"? (Most expressive slang, the Yankee!) Pas si bête, my friends. No thank ye! Came a cropper? Very true! But I remount--my hobby's new, So's my trumpet. Rooey-too! France go softly? Pas de danger! Whilst she has her Brav' BOULANGER!

Cannot say her looks quite flatter. Rather scornful. What's the matter? Have you lost your recent fancy For me and my charger prancy? Turn those eyes this way, now do! Mark my hobby,--not a screw! Listen to my chanson new! BISMARCK flout you? Pas de danger! He's afraid of Brav' BOULANGER.

Of your smile be not so chary! The sixteenth of February Probably will prove my care is The especial charge of Paris. Then you'll know that I am true. "_En revenant de la Revue_;" Stick to me, I'll stick to you. Part with you, sweet? Pas de danger! Not the game of Brav' BOULANGER!

Captain SHARP, of the Newhaven steamer, Paris, you're no craven; Grim and growling was the gale that you from your dead reckoning bore; And, but for your brave behaving, she might never have made haven, But have foundered in mid-Channel, or been wrecked on a lee-shore. With your paddle-floats unfeathered, wonder was it that you weathered Such a storm as that of Sunday, which upset our nerves on land, Though in fire-side comfort tethered. How it blew, and blared, and blethered! All your passengers, my Captain, say your pluck and skill were grand. Much to men like you is owing, when wild storms around are blowing, As they seem to have been doing since the opening of the year: Howling, hailing, sleeting, snowing; but for captains calm and knowing, Passage of our angry Channel were indeed a task of fear. Well, you brought them safely through it, when not every man could do it, And your passengers, my Captain, are inspired with gratitude. Therefore, Mr. Punch thus thanks you, and right readily enranks you, As a hero on the record of our briny island brood. Verily the choice of "_Paris_" in this case proved right; and rare is Fitness between name and nature such as that you illustrate. Captain SHARP! A proper nomen, and it proved a prosperous omen To your passengers, whom Punch must on their luck congratulate.

Dr. Cockshure. "MY GOOD SIR, WHAT YOU WANT IS THOROUGH ALTERATION OF CLIMATE. THE ONLY THING TO CURE YOU IS A LONG SEA VOYAGE!"

Patient. "THAT'S RATHER INCONVENIENT. YOU SEE I'M ONLY JUST HOME FROM A SEA VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD!"]

The title of the second chapter of The Days of the Dandies, in Blackwood, is calculated to excite curiosity,--it is, "Some Great Beauties, and some Social Celebrities." After reading the article, I think it would have been styled more correctly, "A Few Great Beauties." However, it is discursively amusing and interesting. There is much truth in the paper on Modern Mannish Maidens. I hold that no number of a Magazine is perfect without a tale of mystery and wonder, or a ghost-story of some sort. I hope I have not overlooked one of these in any Magazine for this month that I have seen. Last month there was a good one in Macmillan, and another in Belgravia. I forget their titles, unfortunately, and have mislaid the Magazines. But After-thoughts, in this month's Macmillan, is well worth perusal.

My faithful "Co." has been looking through the works of reference. He complains that Dod's Peerage, Baronetage, and Knighthood for 1890 is carelessly edited. He notes, as a sample, that Sir HENRY LELAND HARRISON, who is said to have been born in 1857, is declared to have entered the Indian Civil Service in 1860, when he was only three years old--a manifest absurdity. As Mr. Punch himself pointed out this bêtise in Dod's &c., &c., for 1889, it should have been corrected in the new edition. "If this sort of thing continues," says the faithful "Co.," "_Dod_ will be known as Dodder, or even Dodderer!" Sir BERNARD BURKE'S Genealogical and Heraldic Dictionary of the Peerage and Baronetage is, in every sense, a noble volume, and seems to have been compiled with the greatest care and accuracy. KELLY'S Post Office Directory, of course, is a necessity to every man of letters. Whitaker's Almanack for 1890 seems larger than usual, and better than ever. WEBSTER'S Royal Red Book, and GARDINER'S Royal Blue Book, it goes without saying, are both written by men of address. The Century Atlas and Gazetteer is a book amongst a hundred. Finally, the Era Almanack for 1890, conducted by EDWARD LEDGER, is, as usual, full of information concerning things theatrical--some of it gay, some of it sad. "Replies to Questions by Actors and Actresses" is the liveliest contribution in the little volume. The Obituary contains the name of "EDWARD LITT LEMAN BLANCHARD," dramatist, novellist, and journalist, who died on the 4th of September, 1889. It is hard to realise the Era Almanack without the excellent contributions of poor "E. L. B.!"

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