Punch (93.1887)

58

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [August 6, 1887.

A CAUTION TO THE UNWARY!

He. "Allow me to take you in to Supper."

She. "Oh, do wait a Minute! Look—there's that Man proposing to Mat This-

sledown on the balcony ! I must see what she says ! ! "

A CHESS-SHIRE CHEESE.

Frankfort.—Had no end of a good time over here, at the Chess Congress. Played all
the cracks, and Vat 'em all! You mayn't have heard of this in the newspapers, because,
for reasons which would not he of any general interest, I felt bound to enter under a false
name. Blackburnb said he'd "never seen such gambits as mine." Zukertort was so
irritated at my beating him three times running, that be actually exclaimed, " Gambit all! "—
Excuse the force of the expression ; perhaps he thought he was in the Lwbby of the House of
Commons.—" I'11 never play that fellow again as long as I live!" You'll see from this
that, though the games weren't drawn, some of the competitors were.

There were two Russian chess-players present. I played one, got him on to a dispute
about the Afghan frontier, and adroitly took his Queen off the board when he wasn't looking.
He seemed surprised, but I assured him it was all right, and scored an easy win.

Herr Harmonist might hate beaten me, but as it was a very hot day, I proposed playing

under a tree in the hotel-garden. Then I
purposely took a long time over each move.
The worthy Teuton became thirsty. Lager
beer began to flow. It flowed so much that
after five hours the Herr didn't know the
difference between Bishop and Pawn I That
was my move. Of course he was badly
beaten.

Only time I was beaten was one game
with Blackburnb. He offered to play me
blind-fold; I took the opportunity, while
he was thinking over his plan of campaign,
to relieve him of his watch and purse, and
was just going to pull off his boots when
he called "Check-mate!" However, I
think I got the best of the encounter on
the whole. I call it (in private) the '' rook
gambit."

I ended up by a marvellous tour de force.
I played every one of the competitors—
twenty-one in aU—at the same time, and
beat the entire number of them! The
Frenchman retired from the contest, simply
because he was piqued at my superior skill.
He said—most unfairly—my proceedings
were "not above board;" also said he
objected on principle to a game with a King
and Queen it. Would you believe it, but
professional jealousy actually prevented my
being declared the Chess Champion! Never
mind! Got my board (and lodging) gratis.
Had high jinks, and free drinks, at the
Frankfort pawnshop — see the joke '<
You'll hear of me at the next Inter-
national Chess Congress, without fail.

SUMMER BOATING SONG.

Sun on the slumbrous meadows,

Sun on the sleeping trees ;
Massy and deep the shadows

Stirred by no vagrant breeze.
Rhythmical in the riggers,

Oars with a steady shock
Tell how we work like niggers

For a cool in the plashy lock.

And it's oh, for the neck of the camel,
The ostrich, snake, giraffe !

And what if to-morrow I am ill,
To-day it is mine to quaff.

Bother my rates and taxes!

Crown me the mantling bowl;
The world has gone off its axis,

It's nothing but Life and Soul.
To-day, like the books of the Sibyl,

Is waningly dearer still,
As the sunset echoes wibble

From a cloud-clean saffron hill.

Calm is the solemn surface

Of waters that woo the skies,
And tenderly calm is her face

Who gazes with larger eyes
At the deepening purple above her,

While over her, small and white,
There leans, like a courtly lover,

The sweetness of all the night.

All day in the sun we boated,

How can I tell how far ?
For years in the sun we floated,

For ages that yellow star
Behind the poplar has trembled,

And down to the wine-dark deep,
While softer day dissembled

The Midsummer call to sleep.

And it's oh, for the neck of the camel,
The ostrich, snake, giraffe,

What though to-morrow I am ill,
To-night I am fain to quaff.

Not Quite on the Square.—The Story
of the Round Table.