Punch (71.1876)

•November 18, 1876.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 211

"SAILING DIRECTIONS."

Old Gent {in the vicinity of the Docks). " Can you direct me to" Charing

Cross ?"

Ancient Mariner. "Charin* Cross? Le's see, 'wind's about Nor'-West by

nothe,—you keep the sun on your "weather bow, and you 'll jist about

fetch--" [Old Gent hurries off.

D.2CDALITS AND HIS DONKEY.

A certain Flying Machine was lately said to have
been taken over by its inventor, a British Dsedalus, to
Prince Bismarck, that he might inspect it in order to see
whether it was capable of employment for military pur-
poses. This is a question which may be imagined to be
rather more in Moltee's way. It could not, however,
if the account of the Morning Post's Berlin Corre-
spondent is correct, have been solved, at least up to
within a few days ago, by either the Statesman or the
"Warrior. But there may be some mistake in the state-
ment that:—■

" Mn. Ealph Stott, the aeronaut from Dover, who has
lately made himself here an object of much discussion by his
Hying machine, has suddenly resorted to every possible excuse
and subterfuge to disengage himself from the obligations
entered into. His ascent (fixed for to-day) before certain delegates
of the "War Office, as well as subsequent public representations,
is revolted, because Government refused to pay him immediately
a sum of £1000."

If this is true, then it may be said that our Dsedalus
refused to go up because the Prussian Government would
not come down. In that case let us admire the pru-
dence displayed on both sides, especially on the side of
the Prussian Government. Now if the situation of
the parties remains the same, Dtedalus, for his part,
presents a resemblance to that other British artist, the
athlete who was accustomed to divert the public at
country fairs by the performance of balancing a donkey
at the top of a ladder on his chin for a consideration
subscribed by the by-standers to a certain amount, of
which he used to stand out for the completion, crying in
the meanwhile "Twopence more, and up goes the
Donkey! " But when the twopence had been subscribed,
up the Donkey went. "Will the parallel hold good to
that extent ? Let the thousand pounds for the ascent
of Daedalus be paid him, will the Flying Machine go up ?
If the Prussian Ministry will try the experiment of
handing him over the money—we shall see.

A Rectification.

i Mr. Punch is always sorry to make any mistake in
his assignments of artistic credit. It seems that Mr.
Glover's part in Peril is Kemp the Gardener, not
Meadows the Butler, as Our Representative Man averred
last week. The Butler's part is sustained by Mr.
Newton, who has written to call Mr. Punch''s attention
to the fact.

OUE MAYORS.

Following a practice which is as old as the time from whence it
dates, and has never been interrupted by disturbances at home or
abroad, by European wars or revolutions, by commercial depression,
or depressing weather—we publish to-day a list of Mayors who have
been elected to wield the Sword of Justice and handle the carving-
knife of hospitality, to take the chair at public meetings and public
dinners, to head processions and subscription lists, to distribute
prizes, inaugurate exhibitions, and open bazaars, and to be affable,
wise, bland, benevolent, courteous, kind, firm, charitable, impartial,
generally useful, and bountifully hospitable during the Municipal
year now newly commenced.

There is a breeze from the country blowing about some of these
elections this time which is pleasantly fresh and rural. Nottingham
has its Bowers, Hartlepool its Groves, Coventry its Banks. Ply-
mouth boasts a Moore, Tynemouth a Green. There is a Heywood at
Manchester, a Sherwood at Folkestone (ought to have been at Not-
tingham), and a Greenhow at Llanidloes ; Furse at South Molton,
Dewes at Windsor, a Gill at Wakefield, a Hare at Tamworth,
and Birchenough at Macclesfield.

There are some strange and unaccountable confusions of places in
the list, which no Topographical Dictionaries, or Gazetteers, or Maps
and Atlases can rectify or explain. From our childhood we have
known that Barnstaple was not in Wiltshire, and yet Wiltshire is
now in Barnstaple. Only in disordered dreams and Municipal elec-
tions can Galloway be at Gateshead ; and if Bedford is in Kidder-
minster and Melrose at York, there is, after all, some reason to hope
that thereniay be an excellent dairy of green cheese in the moon.

It is satisfactory to find that there has been no exclusive prefer-
ence for one nationality. The Mayor of Lancaster is Welch, of
Newcastle-on-Tyne a Scott.

A King again reigns supreme in Hull, a Bishop (not for the first
or the sixth time) in Colchester, and an Abbott, in Blandford—there

is a Pugh for them at Carnarvon—and at Hertford the rights of
women have made such enormous strides that the Mayor of that
town is a Nunn.

The Chief Magistrate of Luton may not be a King, or a Bishop, or
even an Abbott, but he certainly is a Bigg man, and with him may
be coupled the Mayor of King's Lynn, who is all Thew. _

Most capricious are some of the municipalities in their selections.
Dewsbury likes a Senior, Maidstone prefers a Youngman ; Brighton
chooses a Lamb, Bolton elects a Wolfenden ; Oxford flies as high as
an Eaglestone, Bury is content with a Duckworth; Dorchester trusts
to a Lock, and Bradford to a Ward.

The Mayors of Glastonbury and Leamington are both Bright; they
have Tallents at Newark; and the leader of High Wycombe for the
next twelve months will be a Wheeler.

Why will not the papers give the surnames of the new Mayors
in all cases ? Why use what would seem to be undue familiarity in
speaking of Abraham, and Absalom, and Gilbert, and Gyles, and
James, and Lewis, and Percival and Ralph ?

As usual, the list shows a variety of pursuits and callings, com-
prising a Carter and a Collier, a Fowler and a Walker, two Turners
and (according to some authorities) a Tanner, a Shipman, a Cooke
(oh! fortunate Hanley), and, to bring the roll to a suitable con-
clusion, a Baker.

Mr. Punch has reserved to the last a Mayor with whom he feels
himself to be in entire sympathy—it is the Mayor of Chard, who is
Chaffey.

Just to Set Him Going.

Dr. Legge, the Oxford' Professor of Chinese, we regret to hear,
has not a single pupil. How is this ? Won't some self-sacrificinsr
undergraduate—there should be no lack of Chinamaniacs at Oxford,
if all we hear of the taste of the place is true—give the Professor a
Legge up ?

VOX. LXXI.

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