Punch: Punch (84.1883)

178

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARL

[April 14, 1883.

TOILERS AND SPINNERS.

The Ministerial Member for Bir-
mingham pitches into Lord Salis-
bury as a member of a class that
“toil not, neither do they spin.”
This is not one of the many, clever
things, Mr. Chamberlain, which yon
are noted for saying. A leading
politician, of whichever party, being
also a Peer, whether in Opposition
or Office, must necessarily toil, more
or less, but can hardly spin,—unless
he “ spins round ” with a fair partner
in the giddy waltz. Or he may go
out on horseback for a spin on the
downs. But these are two instances
where “ spinning ” is a pleasure, not
a toil—or at least it ought to be so.
Eor ourselves—but no matter. The
only sort of lord who spins and toils
at the same time, toiling as he spins
is a Cotton Lord—and he doesn’t
personally always toil or spin very
much.

PUNCH'S FANCY PORTRAITS.-No. 131,

“The Magazines eor April”—
have all been carefully guarded.
Sentries are posted at all the chief
publishing offices. Some explosive
material was detected in the Nine-
teenth Century Magazine, but its
effect has been carefully neutralised.
. . . In spite of all precautions, the
Magazines have all gone off, but for-
tunately without doing any injury.
Most people have only been able to
judge of their contents by the various
reports.

The Premier, while in London,
being compelled to leave off cutting
trees, has been advised by his medi-
cal man to take to cutting jokes.

Mobley’s Verdict on the Oppo-
sition Tactics.—“ The trail of the
Woodcock is over them all. ”

LORD HENRY LENNOX, M.P.,
As “Master Slender”

MRS. GENIUS.

[Song of a Sorrowful Hero- Worshipper.)
Air—“Mrs. Johnson.'* 1'’

G-reat Mr. Genius takes a bride,
Through life to struggle at his side,
Bylaw, and her own heart-strings, tied
To mighty Mr. Genius.

Her task to feed his spirit’s flame,

To mend his breeks, and mark his fa
To meet all bother, bear all blame,
Oh, happy Mrs. Genius I

He to his desk devotes the day ;

Shall he he plagued with bills to pay
Costers or cats to scare away ?

Leave that to Mrs. Genius !
His duty is big books to write,
Which give Society delight;

To tend the house from morn till night
Is task for Mrs. Genius.

To halls of light he may repair,

His name is famous everywhere ;

She stays at home and suffers there,
Poor jealous Mrs. Genius !
Shall he stint ease or pleasure ? No!
She cannot soar, then let her sew,
And sup on porridge; ’twill keep low
The pulse of Mrs. Genius!

He’s of an atrabilious mood,

At bearing pain he is not good,

But given to grumble and to brood
And worry Mrs. Genius.

He growls much like a bee-stung bear,
Denouncing all in earth and air.

She loves—andlistens; that’s the share
Of lucky Mrs. Genius.

Among earth’s stars he’ll deign to
roam,

Sirens his shaggy locks will comb.
Dames pet him. She can patch, at
home,

The dressing-gown of Genius.
Of letting her make friends he’s shy.
No, let her feeble fingers try
To wring wet sheets (with wetter eye)
Poor, lonesome Mrs. Genius !

SHOW SUNDAY; OR, QUITE A LITTLE OILYDaY.

{By Ctur Own Mr. Merry-go-Rounder commissioned to visit all the
Studios.*)

The President of the Republic of Painters told me confidentially)
while expressing, through the half-opened door, his regret at being
unable to admit me into his studio, that his principal Picture would
not be ready, or, if ready, only just in time, for the Academy.
“ Then,” I exclaimed, “ you are keeping up your name, and you ’ll
be known this year as Sir Frederick Late’un.” A shriek of
laughter, and a heavy fall in the passage as the door slammed-to,
proclaimed that my side-splitter had had. its effect.

I ascertained in the neighbourhood that Mr. Poynter’s “ Queen
of Sheba,” called “ Balkis is willing,” will not be exhibited at the
Academy. “ A disap-poynter,” as the funny Author of Jocoseria
observed.^ At Mr. Agnew’s Gallery [always Bag news At the
AgNews’] in Bond Street I was unable to get near Mr. Briton
Riviere’s chef-d' oeuvre—(why “ Briton ” when he’s a foreigner ?);
but as far as I could gather from the Policeman who was keeping
the crowd off, it is something about a farmyard from which aU the
fowls have been taken, except ono old rooster who is giving a final
“ Cock-a-doodle-doo! ” before being carried off by the cook. So
much I made out from the title, which is “ The Last of the Crew.”

While taking some slight but necessary refreshment at the soda-
and-milk shop next to the Gallery, I was able to pick up a good deal
about the Pictures on view from the remarkably well-informed and
intelligent young milk-and-water colourist who serves the customers.
From her I understood that Mr. B. Riviere’s other Picture—or one
of his other Pictures—illustrates a scene where the Leviathan of the

* From internal evidence, of which the reader will be able to judge, we
have our doubts as to whether he visited any one of them. We were not
aware that Refreshment-places and Picture Galleries were open on Show
Sunday.—Ed.

Turf (whoever he may be) and a few millionnaires are seated round
one of the roulette-tables at Monaco : it is called “ Giants at Play.”

I then inquired about Mr. MacWhirter’s works, and was told that
his great Picture was something about a young Lady at Birch’s ;
being treated to a turtle luncheon, I presume.

From here I went to Mr. Hole’s. He has painted a couple of
subjects,—the Queen's subjects, and both very distinguished,—
which, if placed together, will, of course, be called “Peace”
and “ War”—the first being Mr. John Bright, and the second
H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge in full uniform. The same
talented Academician has also done a first-rate portrait of “ Our Mr.
Tenniel,” which, however, is going to the.Grosvenor Gallery. As
the latter work was not completed, it was hidden from this visitor’s
inquiring gaze by a curtain.

“ Ars est celare artem,” I observed to the recently elected Acade-
mician, as I tried to raise a corner of the drapery and obtain a peep.
But Mr. Hole was Holltogether too quick for me, and being in a
hurry I left without seeing the Hidden Gem.

Mr. Boughton has chosen an historical parallel, and has found out
a resemblance between the Prime Minister of Holland and the same
official in France ; he calls it “ A Dutch Ferry.” If this is a success,
he will follow it up with “ A Russian Gladstone,'’ ‘ An Italian
Bismarck,” “An American Salisbury,” and so on. He has also the
fancy portrait of a modern playwright, called _“ The Piece-maker.

Mr. Keely Halswelle’s was the last I inquired about on my
return visit to where the Pictures are kept in Bond Street, and a
very polite Gentleman, in a velvet skull-cap, told me that Mr.
K. H.’s subject is intended as an opposition to the well-known illus-
trated advertisement for Pears’s soap, and is called plainly, _ Old
Windsor.” “So Hals-welle that ends well,” I.said to my kindly
informant, which rib-tickler was too much for him, and I left him
cramming his skull-cap into his mouth to prevent an explosion,
which might have been mistaken for dynamite and caused a panic.

Mr. Tooth has a great draw in Sir John Gilberts picture