Punch (79.1880)

August 14, 1880.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

61

THE TANNER CASE.

Butcher (reading). “ Livin’ on nothin’—let atone Butcher’s Meat—for a
matter of a Month! Why, I’h ’ave him ’ung, I would! If Folks

TAKE TO THIS ’ERE SYSTEM, WHAT’S TO BECOME O’ THE BRITISH CoNSTITOO-
TION ! ?”

Chorus of Tradesmen (in assert). “ Ah ! what, indeed ! ”

SPARKLERS.

(Being short dining-out Stories, carefully selected by our Own Out-and-Out

Diner.)

KB.—The object is to furnish, under the above heading, for the benefit of
those who, when seated at a dinner-table, never can find anything to say for
themselves, a little entertaining and thoroughly authentic gossip about somebody
else. It is therefore sought, while avoiding any approach to personality, to
provide perfect accuracy combined with an unmistakable cachet. With this in
view, the task of selection has been confided to a person of title, who has at
his command an abundant leisure backed by a comprehensive discrimination.
But any suitable contributions from people who are still confined to town, will
receive full consideration. The first instalment is subjoined

The interest taken by Mr. Toole in politics, and the habit he has of frequently
slipping out from his own theatre between every Act, for the purpose of listening
to a bit of some debate in the House of Lords, often leads him into amusing
complications. Only the other night, hearing that the Chinese Giant had, by
his mere height, given himself a capital advertisement in the Strangers’ Gallery
in the Commons, the clever comedian on pushing his way in and taking his
accustomed place, instantly stood conspicuously on the seat. An Irish Member
below the gangway calling the Speaker’s attention to the fact, the latter, who
never misses a legitimate opening for a joke, quietly left his chair, and addressing
the culprit goodhumouredly, said, “ Come, Mr. Toole, we can’t have your folly
here. How did you get into this House, Sir ? ” “I suppose, your Wuship, 1
came in with a Standing Order," was the pointed but pleasant reply. The
Speaker went back to his chair in fits.

* * * * *

The economical stable arrangement of a certain well-known sporting Peer
being discussed in connection with his rather serious illness the other evening-
in the tea-room, Lord Roavton, whose official experience in dealing with the
Cabmen’s Preform Association has made him perhaps one of the best living judges
in England of the peculiar points of a hack, was commenting, though in no
unkindly spirit, on the stinginess of the nobleman in question. “ My dear

Monty,” said Lord Beaconsfield, who came up at the
moment, “ don’t imagine that death has any terrors for
him. Why, you forget, his coffin will be full of
screws ! ”

*****

The inveterate habit of button-holing and then quoting
a bit of the Latin Grammar to any leading actor he
chances to come across, for which the Head Master of
i he Blue-coat School is chiefly distinguished among his
intimate friends, led, the other morning, to a brilliant
little passage of arms outside the establishment of a
well-known West-End hairdresser. Happening to meet
the accomplished lessee of the Lyceum on the door-step,
and the situation naturally suggesting a reference to the
advertised programme of the coming season, the great
City scholar, slapping his acquaintance familiarly on the
shoulder, said, in his usual dry manner, “ Corsicos odi
puer apparatus! which means, my boy, you had better
have stuck to the legitimate—and Terry! Come, find
something to cap that, if you can.” “ What do you
say,” replied the amiable tragedian, smiling pensively,
“ to my possibly having found, after all, a rarer avis in
Terriss ! ” On this being retailed, the same evening, to
Lord Brabourne, he instantly said, “ Well, if that isn’t
the best thing that has been heard outside the Athemeum
this fifty years, I know nothing of Juvenal ! ”

* * * * *

Lord Kimberley’s aptitude for communicating a
despatch in the shape of an impromptu epigram, has got
him, before now, into hot water with more than one
Colonial Governor; and, on the Cabinet coming to its
repent decision to recall Sir Bartle Frere, he deter-
mined to surpass himself. Taking up his pen, without
a moment’s hesitation he jotted down the following

“ Though rated out there as a seer,—over here
We ’re rated because we won’t doubt you ;

So you’d better come home, for with us you ’re still Frere,
While we shall feel free-er without you ! ”

When this reached the Cape, by cable, Sir Bartle
was taking lunch with a distinguished German personage.

TWO MOKDAYS.

( With Mr. Punch.'s compliments to the “ Extreme Sabbatarian
Party.")

DARK MONDAY.

Scene—A Counting House.

Dramatis Personae—An Employer of Labour, and his
Manager.

Employer. Why are you so downcast ? Anything
wrong ?

Manager. The usual story, Sir! Can’t get the men to
work. All muzzy and muddleheaded. Shan’t he able to
do anything with them until to-morrow !

Employer. Dear me, that’s had! But is there no
brighter side to the picture ?

Manager. Well, yes; the hands are not quite discon-
tented.

Employer. AVhy ?

Manager. Because owing to the compulsory closing of
the Museums yesterday, they were able to spend the
greater part of their Sunday in the public-houses.

BRIGHT MONDAY.

Scene — The Same.

Dramatts Personas as before.

Employer. Why are you so cheerful ? Any good
news ‘i

Manager Quite a new story, Sir! The men are really
hard at work, and doing twice as much as usual. I only
hope they will keep it up to-morrow!

Employer. That’s good! But is there no darker side
to the picture ?

Manager. Well, yes; the hands are not quite con-
tented.

Employer. Why ?

Manager. Because owing to the voluntary closing of
the public-houses yesterday, they had no resource but to
spend the greater part of their Sunday in the Museums
and Picture Galleries.

Best County for Playing Nap.—Beds.