Punch (72.1877)

256

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[June 9, 1877.

win cheap credit for zeal on behalf of their boroughs, without any
cost to the country.

Both Sir Charles Adderley and Sir Stafford Northcote
pointed out that a great deal of money was being spent under the
Harbours and Passing Tolls Act, and that there was more where
that came from, viz., in the till of the Public Works Commissioners
and the pockets of those who would reap most profit from the work.
Lord Claud had no right to expect more than 28 to 99 on his
Motion.

Colonel Kingscote was Counted Out in a vain attempt to set
forth the wretched state of the poorer population of the Forest of
Dean, where, under the noses of wealthy private mine-owners, and
the Crown, the biggest mine- and land-owner of all, a race of uncared-
for savages seems to be growing up in dirt, disease and ignorance,
on ever-accumulating cinder-heaps. But what cares the Collective
Wisdom ? Let the Local Wisdom look to it. Shall the Crown
sxibmit to be crowed over ? Office of Woods forbid !

FROM THE OLD OBADIAH TO THE YOUNG OBADIAH.

Obtaining some valuable Instruc-
tion for Youth.

Dear Young Obadiah,
It gives me, as your
Uncle and adviser, great plea-
sure to think that you have
netted a considerable sum by
acting upon the strong recom-
mendation conveyed to you in
my last letter. Silvio was my tip
in private to you, as you well
remember ; and I cannot yet be-
lieve that you should have al-
lowed almost a week to pass by
without acknowledging your gratitude to one who dandled you as a
babe on his knee, and who has been more than a parent to you since
you were left, by circumstances over which no one seemed to have
any control, on my hands. Your father, my brother-in-law, may
return in a few years' time, or he may not. Pacts are stubborn
things, and his attempt to set up a resemblance between himself
and me—which, however, signally failed, as I was in court at the
time, and in a position to personally instruct the prosecution—was
unworthy of his undoubted but generally misdirected genius.

Send a P.O. order, my dear boy {not cheque, distinctly not cheque),
to your old Uncle, in his retirement, and never forget that a blessing
awaits those who are kind and charitable to their aged relations.
Recollect it was through me that you won your money. I trust to
hear from you by return. My address is legibly written at the top
of this letter. And now, my dearest Nephew, let me make a
few general remarks. You are commencing your career, and will
benefit by my experience.

That you should have been offered a seat on Lord Newdell's
coach, gratified me extremely: though, at the time, you were unaware
that I was of the party. It was your first appearance as a Noble
Sportsman, and, I am glad to say, you did credit to our family name
and ancient reputation. Your white hat and white overcoat were
nearly faultless; but my fortunate discovery that Noses's ticket
(marked " 30s.") was still adhering to the skirt, was a bit of fore-
sight on my part worth a fifty-pun' note to you on such a day, and
in such company.

But, correct as you were, and even imposing as was your appear-

ance (at some distance), yet I regret to say that, to the practised eye
of an old bay-window observer like myself, you gradually fell off
towards the boots, which, like the gaiters and the trousers, were
evidently relics of a bygone and unsporting age. My boy, don't
half do anything. Be dressed up to the "nines" exactly, but not
merely up to the four-and-a-halfs or even the fives. Also, not
a fraction over the nines. Your hat, your coat {when buttoned,
mind), your tie, and your gloves were all de rigueur for the Derby.
But you were only attired for sitting down with your legs hidden,
and had not reckoned on walking about the Course, or on being
pilloried on the box of the drag, or on a corner seat at the back.
Verbum sat.

I was pleased to notice that if you have not a fund of entertaining
conversation at command, yet you are possessed of an inexhaustible
store of good-humour, and have much control over your facial ex-
pression, as was proved by the really amiable smile you assumed
immediately after being struck sharply, and unexpectedly, in the
left eye by a well-directed pea, just as you were ogling, in a most
significant but inoffensive manner, a beautiful creature in lemon
gloves and a blue feather, reclining in the barouche at our side.
By the way, if you must ogle, you should practise it before a
looking-glass. To ogle as a well-bred gentleman should ogle, is an
art you have yet to acquire. At present, my dear boy, you only
leer, and it is not a pleasant sight. I will send you a little book
on the subject, entitled The Modest Ogler. Your jokes, if_ not
absolutely brilliant, were quite equal to those of your companions,
and were intelligible to the meanest capacity. As, for instance,
when, on reaching the " Cock," young Dick Squiffie (do not forget
that though he is only Dick Squiffie now, he will be one of the
greatest swells in these British Isles) asked you, " Is this Sutton ? "
and you quickly replied, " Why, yes, Sutton-ly ! " It was a very
fair specimen of the kind of humour to which I have already alluded.
It rather lost on repetition, but will, if kept in reserve, come out
once again quite fresh for next year's Derby. For my part, I hate
jokes and detest puns ; but on a Derby Day, when politics are out
of the question, and you've got your money on, why dulce est dissi-
pere in joco.

Your subsequent performance on a fog-horn, and your playing
with squeaking dolls, which you had purchased on the race-course,
were not, perhaps, in the best possible taste ; but you had had quite
enough lobster-salad and champagne, and the sun had been, I
admit, uncommonly strong. Besides, your companions—as many
of them, at least, as still remained on the drag—were not in such a
state as would have given weight to their observations, even when
intelligible.

The last thing I saw of you was that you were engaged in kissing
your hand to a bevy of elderly damsels in a van, before you succumbed
to drowsiness, when you reclined on the roof, and slept with your
head in a hamper. As the grooms were looking after you, I retired
quietly to the interior of the coach, and meditated on the events of
the day.

Take these remarks in good part, my dear boy, as I am anxious
for you in your new career. It isn't often that a nephew has an
Uncle who not only knows the ropes, but knows where to draw the
line; and every line I send you is worth its weight in bullion.
"A propos of bullion, do not forget P.O. order for per-centage on the
Silvio tip, for which you have to thank

Your ever affectionate Uncle,

The Old Obadiah.
P.S.—Not a word to your Aunt. I respect her scruples.

OUE EE PEE SENT ATI VE MAN.

Reports to the Editor, after visiting the Lyceum, the Gaiety, and

the Opera.

Sir,—There is a portent in the theatrical world. Mr. Charles
Reade, author of The Wandering Heir and The Scuttled Ship, has
given us an exciting melodrama whose sole fault, in the eyes of
an appreciative public, is—its brevity !

The Lyons Mail, as the new version is called, is, in some respects,
an improvement on the former one written by Mr. Reade for the
Princess's in Charles Kean's time. For instance, much more in this
present piece is made of Julie, Lesurques\ daughter, of Jeannette,
Bubosc's wife, and of Jerome, Lesurques' father, than in the former
adaptation. But these characters, it seems to me, have been
strengthened somewhat at the expense of the dual parts of Lesurques
and LJubosc, both forcibly played by Mr. Irving. Mr. Reade, how-
ever, has given us an additional scene between Jerome and his son,
which is at once the most powerfully written and most admirably
acted scene of the play; and here, while the weight of the dialogue is
borne by Mr. T. Mead (whose performance of old Jerome is excellent
throughout), the force of the acting, of varying emotions increasing
in painful intensity at every moment, is entirely in the hands of
Mr. Irving, and, to my mind, this " bit" is the best thing he has