Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 109, July 13, 1895

With a musical name (though he varies the spelling), This youth from New Zealand is bound to go far. He couldn't jump high, since (it's truth I am telling) No master of music e'er misses a bar.

The Long Jump, snatched like a brand from the burning, practically gave the victory in the whole contest to Cambridge, who also won the Weight, the Mile, the Three Miles and the Quarter.

The Light Blues triumphed, fortune being shifty; They cheered FITZHERBERT sprinting home in fifty. For strength the weight-man's parents have a hot son, Witness the put of youthful Mr. WATSON. LUTYENS, who always pleases as he goes, Romped in, his glasses poised upon his nose. And none that day with greater dash and go ran Than the Light Blue three-miler, Mr. HORAN.

During the practice of the crews for Henley Regatta there has been one exalted contest, which I cannot remember hearing of in former years. My Sporting Life (of which I am a diligent and a constant reader) informed me that "at one time it did seem as though Jupiter Pluvius was about to swamp Old Boreas, but the latter proved too tough." Quite a sporting event, evidently. Why, oh why, was not Old Boreas present when Pelion was piled upon Ossa? The whole course of (pre) history might have been changed.

A Newcastle contemporary has been discussing the art of adding to the beauty of women by the use of cosmetics, &c. May I commend the following extract to the notice of the ladies of England?

"No woman is capable of being beautiful who is capable of being false. The true art of assisting beauty consists in embellishing the whole person by the ornaments of virtuous and commendable qualities. How much nobler is the contemplation of beauty when it is heightened by virtue! How faint and spiritless are the charms of a coquette, when compared with the loveliness of innocence, piety, good-humour, and truth--virtues which add a new softness to their sex, and even beautify their beauty! That agreeableness possessed by the modest virgin is now preserved in the tender mother, the prudent friend, and the faithful wife. Colours artfully spread upon canvas may entertain the eye, but not touch the heart; and she who takes no care to add to the natural graces of her person, noble qualities, may amuse as a picture, but not triumph as a beauty."

Year by year do England's daughters In the fairest gloves and shawls Troop to drink the Cheltenham waters, And adorn the Cheltenham balls.

This is not the place that one would naturally associate with violent language over so small a matter as the rejection of some plans. A quarrel, however, has taken place in the Town Council, and terrible words have been spoken:--

"In the course of a discussion on the rejection of some plans, Mr. MARGRETT accused the acting chairman of the Streets Committee (Mr. PARSONAGE) with being influenced by personal and political motives against the person (Mr. BARNFIELD) who sent them in. Mr. PARSONAGE warmly retorted with the lie direct, and told Mr. MARGRETT that he knew he was lying. Mr. LENTHALL accused Mr. PARSONAGE of being 'slip-shod' in his method of bringing up the minutes of the Streets Committee, because he had passed over without comment a dispute between the Corporation and the Board of Guardians. While denying this imputation, Mr. PARSONAGE said he would even prefer to be 'slip-shod' than to follow Mr. LENTHALL'S example of giving utterance to a long-winded and frothy oration over such a trumpery matter as a road fence."

After this I quite expected to read that some one--

... raised a point of order, when A chunk of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen, And he smiled a sort of sickly smile and curled upon the floor! And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more.

But the matter seems to have dropped, and everything to have ended peacefully--a great and bitter disappointment to all lovers of ructions.

Even in aquatic matters Ireland is a country of surprises. In the Eight-oared race the other day for the "Pembroke Cup," there was a dead-heat between the Shandon Boat Club and the Dublin University Boat Club. In the row-off, the Irish Independent says that "Boat Club caught the water first, but after a few strokes Shandon forged in front. After the mile mark, Shandon were rowing eighteen against the Boat Club's nineteen or twenty. In the next three hundred yards Boat Club dropped to seventeen, the others being steady at nineteen all through. About one hundred and fifty yards off the fishery step the Boat Club quickened up to forty and got within two feet of their opponents. Then, amid the greatest excitement, Boat Club got in front and won by a canvas." A stroke oar who can row a race at nineteen to the minute all through is steadier but certainly less versatile than one who can spring suddenly from the rate of seventeen to the rate of forty. As admirable as either is the genius of the reporter who describes the event.

Mr. H. M. HYNDMAN is the Socialist candidate for Burnley. He advocates "the immediate nationalisation and socialisation of railways, mines, factories, and the land, with a view to establishing organised co-operation for production and distribution in every department under the control of the entire community. There should be a minimum wage of thirty shillings a week in all State and Municipal employment, as well as in State-created monopolies." There's a modest and practical programme for you! But this windy gentleman's opponents may reply that they prefer the system of each for himself, and d----l take the HYNDMAN, to all the verbiage of the Socialist froth-pot.

Many reasons have been given for the fall of the late Government. It has been left to a correspondent of the Birmingham Daily Post to discover the real and only one. "It is most unfair," he says, "to hold them entirely responsible for all the shortcomings, blunders, and failures which distorted their administration. How could they help these things? Has it never occurred to you that the Government of Lord ROSEBERY was the '13th' Parliament of Queen VICTORIA? Can anybody reasonably expect good government from a 13th Parliament? It is out of all question." What persiflage, what wit!

I sorrow over the new town clock of Dalkey. In my Freeman's Journal I read that, at the monthly meeting of the Dalkey Township Commissioners, a letter was read from Messrs. CHANCELLOR AND SONS, stating that the new town clock could not be made to strike, but they could make a new clock for £100. The letter was marked read--and no wonder. If it can't strike, it had better be wound up, and Dalkey is obviously the place to wind it. Otherwise there seems no reason in the Township's name.

Clevedon is, I believe, in Somerset. Anyone in search of a sensation ought to have gone there last week, for it is stated that "Mr. VICTOR ROSINI'S Spectral Opera Company commenced a week's engagement at the Public Hall on Monday evening." I cannot imagine a spectral basso or tenore robusto. And in any case, why should the unfortunate operatic spectres be harried into giving public performances?

MUSICAL HONOURS!!--The friends of Sir HENRY JAMES, Q.C., M.P., will celebrate his being raised to the peerage by serenading with "_The Aylestone Chorus_."

_Wednesday._--Violet has accepted me, this very day, the happiest of my life. She is the sweetest and prettiest woman in the world. I have loved her long and passionately. She has not loved me long, and she could never love me passionately. She is rather unemotional. Even when I kissed her this afternoon for the first time she was quite calm. She tells me she has once loved, as though she could never love again. Her previous sweetheart was a Captain. I am a mere writer. His name was PERCY PLANTAGENET CHOLMONDELEY. Mine is JONES. I hope that in time she may forget him.

_Thursday._--Meet her in the Row, and sit under the trees. She is fond of horses. So am I, but I do not ride often. She mentions that Captain CHOLMONDELEY was a splendid rider. Listen patiently to what she tells me.

_Friday._--To the Opera with VIOLET and her people. She does not care for GOUNOD'S Faust. Prefers a burlesque with comic songs. Says the Captain sang comic songs admirably, with banjo accompaniment. When it's well done, I also like that. Tell her so. This encourages her to further reminiscences. Of course, she is right to conceal nothing from me now we are engaged, but frankness, even engaging frankness, may be carried too far. Manage to change the subject at last, and then unfortunately the Soldier's Chorus reminds her of a parody in an amateur burlesque which Captain CHOLMONDELEY----and so on.

_Saturday._--Meet her at Hurlingham. She is so fond of polo. She says the Captain was a splendid player. I expected that. A sort of Champion of the World. Of course. I never played in my life. Listen to an account of his exploits. Rather bored.

_Sunday._--Up the river. Very hot day. Delightful to lounge in the shade and smoke. VIOLET more energetic. Compels me to exert myself. She says the Captain could do anything in a boat. No doubt. I am prepared to hear that he shot the Falls of Niagara in a punt. He was a wonderful genius. I am tired of hearing of him.

_Monday._--To Mr. MONTGOMERY-MUMBY'S dance. VIOLET there of course. We both like dancing. Get on charmingly together. Suddenly something reminds her of the ever-lamented Captain P. P. C. I suggest that he has said good-bye to her for ever, as his initials show. She does not see the little joke. Have to explain it to her. Then she says it is a very poor joke. No doubt it is, but she needn't tell me so. Annoying. A certain coolness between us.

_Tuesday._--To the French play with VIOLET and her aunt. She understands French very well. Seems to think a lot of me because I know something of several languages. Ask her if Captain CHOLMONDELEY was fond of learning languages. Am prepared to hear that he was a second MEZZOFANTI. On the contrary, it seems that he couldn't speak a word of anything but English, and that he didn't speak very much that was worth hearing even in that. The only French he could understand was in a menu. Apparently he never read anything else in any language, except the sporting papers in English. Have at last found something he could not do. Delighted. Unfortunately show this. VIOLET begins to defend him. I say he must have been rather a duffer. She retorts that I can't play polo. What has that to do with it? Again a coolness between us.