Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 107, October 20, 1894

The Special Correspondent "doing" the Church Congress at Exeter for the Morning Post, when remarking on the clerical costumes in the procession to the Cathedral, told us that among the "college caps" i.e. "mortar-boards," (which of course go with the university gown or clerical surplice,) and "birettas," (which, being Italian, are not certainly part of English academical or ecclesiastical costume,) there appeared a "tall hat," i.e. the topper of private life, which, as it happens, is part of the Academical Master of Arts costume, and therefore, though unbecoming in a procession of mortar-boards and birettas, is yet unassailable from a purely academic and Cantabrigian point of view. It may not be "Oxonian," by the way; but if the wearer were an Oxford man he would know best. Now, if the hat, presumably black, had been a white one? White is the surplice: why not the hat? White is the emblem of purity, although, sad to say, when associated with a hat, it used at one time to be provocative of an inquiry as to the honesty of the wearer in regard to the surreptitious possesion of a donkey. Has anybody anywhere ever seen a parson, whether M.A. or not, in a white hat? Surely such a phenomenon must rank with the defunct postboy and dead donkey. This will be one of the inquiries to which clerical costume at ecclesiastical Exeter must naturally give rise. Perhaps the top-hatted clergyman was a Freemason, wearing this as emblematic of a "tiled lodge."

Hungry Saxon (just arrived, with equally hungry family). "WELL, NOW--ER--WHAT CAN YOU GIVE US FOR DINNER, AS SOON AS WE'VE HAD A WASH?"

Scotch Lassie. "OH, JIST ONYTHING!"

H. S. (rubbing his hands in anticipation). "AH! NOW WE'LL HAVE A NICE JUICY STEAK."

Lassie. "A--WEEL. WE'LL BE HAEIN' SOME STEAK HERE MAYBE BY THE BOAT I' THE MORN'S MORN!"

H. S. (a little crestfallen). "OH--WELL--CHOPS THEN. WE'LL SAY MUTTON CHOPS."

Lassie. "OH, AY, BUT WE'VE NO BEEN KILLIN' A SHEEP THE DAY!"

[_Ends up with boiled eggs, and vows to remain at home for the future._]

This is a dreadful cry to raise. Let's hope it is not anywhere near the truth. Says the Emperor, i.e. the chairman of the Empire (Theatre), "There will be only one effect should the County Council endorse the decision of its Licensing Committee. The Empire Theatre will be at once closed, as it would be impossible to carry it on under such absurd restrictions." Such is the Imperial ukase issuing from Leicester Square. And the Emperor is right. This "grandmotherly legislation," however well-intentioned the grandmothers, may be all very well for "babes and sucklings," but then babies in arms are not admitted to the Empire, and those babes of older growth who have evidently been partaking too freely of "the bottle" are strictly excluded by the I. C. O. or Imperial Chuckers Out. No doubt London common sense will ultimately prevail, even in the Court of the London County Council, and the Empire will soon be going stronger than ever.

MOTLEY REFLECTION.--What better name for an historian than "MOTLEY"? Not in the buffoonic sense of the term; not when, to change the spelling, "Motley is your only ware"; but as implying a variety of talents as equal as the patches in the perfect dress of a harlequin. Of course the pen is the wand. What transformations cannot the Motley historian bring about! A monster becomes a man, and a man a monster.

Little AH SID Was a lemon-faced kid, With a visage as old as an ape's; Saffron son-of-a-gun, He was fond of his fun, And much given to frolics and japes. Once in his way, As AH SID was at play, A big bumblebee flew in the spring. "Jap butterfly!" Cried he, winking his eye; "Me catchee and pull off um wing!"

Chorus.

"_Kiya, kiya, kyipye, yukakan! Kiya, kiya, yukakan!_" Sang little AH SID, That elderly kid, As he went for that bee from Japan.

He made a sharp snap At the golden-ring'd chap, That innocent butterfly-bee, Which buzzed and which bummed, And circled and hummed Round the head of that little Chinee. He guessed not the thing Had no end of a sting, As he chased him in malice secure, And he cried with a grin,-- "Buzzy-wuzzy no win! Me mashee um buttlefly, sure!"

Chorus.

"_Kiya, kiya, kyipye, yukakan! Kiya, kiya yukakan!_" Sang little AH SID, The Celestial kid, As he after "um buttlefly" ran.

Little AH SID Was a pig-headed kid (As well as pig-tailed). Could he guess What kind of a fly Was buzz-wuzzing hard by, Till he grabbed him--with stinging success. "_Kiya, kyipye!_" Yelled AH SID, as that bee Stung him hard in a sensitive spot. "_Kiya yukakan!_ Hang um Japanese man, Um buttlefly velly much hot!"

Chorus.

"_Kiya, kiya, kyipye yukakan! Kiya, kiya, yukakan!_" Howled hopping AH SID, "Um hurt me, um did, Um buttlefly bites--in Japan!!!"

MODERN MANGERS.--Nearly all hotel advertisements prominently announce as among the principal attractions of each establishment "_separate tables_." It looks as if the "all-together-_table-d'hôte_-system" had failed by reason of "incompatibility of temper." Hence the divorce a mensâ. The long table with all the noses in a row down in the feeding-trough is by this time a remnant of barbarism. Yet the "boxes" common to the old eating-houses, such for example, as may still be seen in some parts of London both east and west, were "pernicious snug" and sufficiently private, too, for business conversation and confidential communications.

SERIOUS, VERY! LATEST FROM CHINA.--The Emperor has been consulting his physician, who, after careful diagnosis, has pronounced "TUNG in bad condition, and LUNG queer."

Mrs. Earwaker. Yes, dear Lady LULLINGTON, I've always insisted on each of my girls adopting a distinct line of her own, and the result has been most satisfactory. LOUISA, my eldest, is literary; she had a little story accepted not long ago by The Milky Way; then MARIA is musical; practises regularly three hours every day on her violin. FANNY has become quite an expert in photography--kodaked her father the other day in the act of trying a difficult stroke at billiards; a back view--but so clever and characteristic!

Lady Lullington (absently). A back view? How nice!

Mrs. Earw. He was the only one of the family who didn't recognise it at once. Then my youngest, CAROLINE--well, I must say that for a long time I was quite in despair about CAROLINE. It really looked as if there was no single thing that she had the slightest bent or inclination for. So at last I thought she had better take up Religion, and make that her speciality.

Lady Lull. (languidly). Religion! How very nice!

Mrs. Earw. Well, I got her a Christian Year and a covered basket, and quantities of tracts, and so on; but, somehow, she didn't seem to get on with it. So I let her give it up; and now she's gone in for poker-etching instead.

Lady Lull. (by an act of unconscious cerebration). Poker-etching! How very very nice!

Lady Rhoda. Oh, but indeed, Lady CULVERIN, I thought he was perfectly charmin'; not a bit booky, you know, but as clever as he can stick; knows more about terriers than any man I ever met!

Lady Culverin. So glad you found him agreeable, my dear. I was half afraid he might strike you as--well, just a little bit common in his way of talking.