Punch (59.1870)

118

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[September 17, 1870,

i hands, and settling his hat, under the impression, apparently, that the
THE BOOMPJE PAPERS. Queen may be looking out of the window, and might be induced, by his

distinguished appearance, to ask him in (not us, of course, and certainly
club visits the queen of holland. not Maullie, except on sufferance in the character of "any friend of

yours, Monsieur Gooch, of course," &c), perhaps to dinner.

" It doesn't look like sight-seeing time," says Maullie. Even he is a
little oppressed by the proximity to Royalty, and makes a concession to
propriety by cramming his sketch-book into his pocket, and pulling his
tie down under his coat, its tendency during a drive generally being
to " ruck up " and obliterate his shirt-collar.

Bund bashfully produces black kid gloves, but as they have weathered
several storms of rain, and the middle fingers are arranged on venti-
lating principles, this addition to his costume only induces Gooch to
say, in a rapid under-tone, as we draw up at the portico, " Do put those
things in your pocket, or you '11 look like a respectable begging-letter
writer." He casts his eyes up to the front windows, to see if, by any
chance, the Queen is looking : but no one is visible.

Jomp, in his Boomp-je hat and livery, unintelligible to the servants,
commands instant respect: at first.

Two servants in gorgeous coats and knee-breeches, six foot high each
of them, let down the steps, and open the door.
A. bell is rung.

Instantly we see the hall within lined on either side by tall servants,
all in the same sort of costume, and standing bolt upright like
theatrical nobles at a shilling a night in an opera chorus.

Muntley in the rumble leans over and says, "Isn't it just as if
they were going to say, ' Hail to the something or other,' eh ? "

Gooch silences him with a frown. We are all seated in the carriage,
not liking to get out, as no one is certain what may happen next, and
there is among us a latent, undefined feeling that the Queen is coming
to receive us.

" There's some mistake somewhere," murmurs Bund, who has got
his gloves out again, as if the display of these would set right; any mis-
apprehension as to our being noblemen—"In disguise," adds
Gooch, looking first at Maullie's hat, then at Bund's gloves.

Jomp is wholly incompetent, and utterly flabbergasted by the
situation. He stands helplessly by the steps, staring at the tall men

V ' / ■£=-/ / /■•//// / MUlr llmvX situation. lie stands helplessly by ttie steps, staring at tlie tall men

^\/S/f ~/ ' /ill! I ii'llll'fxv [n liveries, but has nothing to say. Another five minutes like this

Y \r would send Jomp to a lunatic asylum, where he'd be shown as the

C V hat's the time for seeing the Palace?" asks the Com- "Idiot Courier " for the remainder of his life.

mander-in-Chief and Paymaster Bund. Two bells more. "Like on board a ship," says the Commodore,

" Four o'clock," Jomp answers, " vill be the best time for to see the
Palace."

" La Heine est-elle chez elle ?" asks Gooch in his usual momentary
obliviousness of his native tongue, adding his translation: "The
Queen, is she at home 'i "

Jomp believes that the Queen of Holland is at home. He has
been all the morning making inquiries, and the above represents the
result. Gooch thinks that, under such circumstances, "to call would
be an intrusion." He emphasises " call," as if ours was going to be a

faintly, wishing he was at home with his violoncello.

In answer to these two bells appear two footmen in more resplendent
liveries than the others, and about two inches taller.

They walk down to the door, and take their places, as if by clock-
work arrangement or previous rehearsal, by the door. They don't
notice us, except by a glance, having evidently enough to do to attend
to their own deportment at the present juncture.

Another bell, this time more distant, as if some way down a passage;
a slight delay, and then one grander and more gorgeous footman, a sort

visit of friends who had been hospitably asked to come in a general way j of Swiss from a cathedral, topping by an inch all the rest, walks slowly
when they liked, and who had (as is invariably the case) taken advan- j forward, and approaches our carriage. He waits by the steps, inviting
tage of the invitation at the most inopportune moment. j us (in Dutch we fancy) to descend. The Swiss gracefully removes his

"Pooh!" says Bund, fresh from Murray, "it's the regular thing j hat. The two by the door having a second before put on their hats,
to see." I now politely, but stiffly, take them off. We all take qnrs off, and

Muntley, Pinton, and Gooch, the Opposition, object to it solely
on the grounds that, being the regular thing, it is so British-touristy
and snobbish.

_ Maullie, who has been spending his morning in two prTvate collec-
tions which he found out for himself without Jomp, votes for the Palace,
with a view to probable pictures.

The Commodore has the casting vote, the Opposition gives in, and
Bund, relying upon Murray, decides upon the visit of inspection.

" Not in that hat! " Gooch implores Maullie. " Not in that hat
—to the Palace ! "

Maullie, who has something of the rigid obstinacy of the Puritan
in him, combined with his taste for simplicity in dress, replies that he
doesn't, intend to change it uutii he comes to Brussels—"when," he
adds, "I will astonish you in my Sunday best. I have," continues
Maullie, proudly, " an Opera hat."

" Trench ? " asks Gooch, anxiously, " silk, glossy, that you can wear
in the day-time ? "

To which Maullie replies that Gooch will see. As Maullie gets
into the carriage, I hear Gooch telling his friends, sotto voce, "11 a un
chapeau—he has a hat."

" You are sure," asks Bund of Jomp, " that the Palace is open at
four?"

" 0 yes," answers Jomp, expressing by his manner that he is utterly
astonished at Bund's doubting his accuracy even for a second. " 0
yes—um—um—urn—it is open at four. O yes ! "

We drive through an avenue—very pretty this—and enter the court-
yard of the Palace. A pair-horse carriage, and a Victoria, are waiting.
Some servants in Boyal liveries are chatting witti other servants (belong-
ing to the aforesaid carriages) at the door.

" Some one's making a call," observes Gooch, pulling up his wrist-

that part of the ceremony, whatever it means, is over.

Bund addresses Jomp. "Ask," he says, "if the Queen is in, and
whether we can see the palace ? "

In such Dutch as he can manage, Jomp inquires as to Royalty
being at home. The Giant looking down with some curiosity on
Jomp, does not comprehend the question at first. Then on Jomp
trying it again, he grasps it.
Yes, the Queen is at home. We will descend, of course.
Now comes a ticklish point. We have to explain that we want to
see—not the Queen, but the palace. The Swiss cannot understand.
" The Queen is waiting to receive us," he explains through Jomp, who
gives us a very vague translation. Finding that we don't move
("There'll be a row," cries Gooch in despair, "and letters in the
Times about Cockney Tourists. Let's go back"), and being tired of
standing with his hat off (all the other lesser giants being fatigued too),
he pulls a small door-bell, which is responded to by a little wizened
man in black, like the shade of a departed butler. ("Good effect
among all the liveries," says Maullie under his breath, making a
mental note of it.) N.B. He has subsequently put the whole thing
into a picture full of halls in perspective, grandly costumed nobles
with flambeaux in their hands, and a secretary in black. He calls it
Reception of the Dutch Republican Ambassadors at the Court of the
King of Spain. All our likenesses are there, and it has been on his
easel some considerable time. Everybody says it's a very fine picture,
but nobody has bought it, as yet.)

The Butler's Ghost receives some information from the Chief Giant.
He glides towards us along the carpeted hall noiselessly. He is at
our carriage-door. He salutes Bund, fixing upon him instinctively as
the Commander, and ignoring Jomp altogether.
"Her Majesty," he says, "is within. Your Excellency—". We