Punch: Punch (81.1881)

242

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [Novembeb 26, 1881.

LOOKING TO THE FUTURE.

Algy. "Trey want £6000 foe the Lease, Maria. It runs foe. Eighty-
nine years."

Maria. " Oh, don't buy it, Algy. Only Eighty-nine years ! Fancy
bear Baby being turned out of nis House at NINETY-ONE, and pos-
sibly INFIRM into the bargain ! "

THEORETIKOS.

by oscuro wildegoose.
(Put into plain English for the benefit of Philistia.)

This mighty Empire seems in a bad way !
Of all that may a languorous bard delight
Our little Island is deserted, quite.

"What now is left Me, but the moon to bay ?

Loll on the hills, and cry, " Oh, lackaday ! " ?
Who prates of Progress ? Oh, come out of.it,
My most superior Soul! Thou art not fit

Eor virile conflict or for manly play,

The Forum's toil, the labours of the Mart.
Nasty rude people rage with impudent cries

Against the worship of dead centuries.

It mars my calm ! In dreams of moony Art
And maudlin Cultchaw I will stand apart,

Since Providence proceeds not as /please !

A Hint for the Not-At-Home-Office.

If the Seldom-at-Home Secretary would spare Mr.
Howard Vincent for a few months' residence in
America, he might spend his time more profitably than
he has lately done, by learning his business. The capture
of Welles, the man who tried to "blackmail" Jay
Gould, is a case in point. By clearing every letter-box
in a certain district, putting on two hundred Detectives,
one at each box, and arresting the first person who posted
a letter to Jay Gould, they caught their Welles.
In England, we should have left Welles alone.

" Keep it Dark," or Othello on the recent Post
Office Diamond Robbery.—" Put out the light and
then"—and then they went off "bag and baggage."
Plenty 'of Diamond Merchants round and about that
quarter, so it was very natural that the first question
asked by an intelligent Detective should be, " Where
was Moses when the light went out ? "

Dr. McEvtxlt, the able successor of Archbishop
McHale, exercises a strong personal influence on his
clergy, who, as loyal to the Crown as true to their
country, must not be described as McEvilly-disposed
persons.

ON THE BOULEVARDS.

(From Our Own Correspondent—die Perron de Tortoni.)

Lundi.—Woke up dreading the newspapers as though they were all
printing Premiers-Paris by Saint Genj<st. Called Johnne to tell me
what party I belong to now. Find I'm Left Centre. Tant mieux: ca
vous dispense de penser a la politique. Ah, si on pouvait se dispenser
d'en entendre purler ! And after Pasdeloup yesterday with ma tante
du Perigord ! Pasdeloup and the Chamber to begin at the same
time—it's a Pelion of pain on an Ossa of ennui.

Breakfasted at the Helder, where I met Pitanchard, who is re-
duced to taking an interest in the Academical Elections. Why,
the other Elections were better. En fait de candidats: Three no-
bodies, or the third part of a mediocre man of dead letters. Plus
ca change, plus c'est la meme chose : re-pouah I

Turned into the Chausee d'Antin: thought the Cercle Artistique
de la Seine would choke off Pitanchard. Ah, hien, pas du tout.
Pitanchard dragged the Academy after him into the Winter Salon,
a.n&franchement, if Academie means nudity in Art-slang, the Winter
Salon doesn't require any more Academy at present. It really is
d'un deshabille—je ne vous dis que ca ! I was really sorry for a
jeune mees before Feyen-Perrin. She looked as if she had been
dressed by the Belle Jardiniere of her native fogs, but what a
delicious profile, and what flush of horror when she came face to
face with those wicked Baigneuses !—a fine morceau, mafoi—carna-
tions like golden peaches. What a divine disgust when she fronted
the Pecheuses de Cancale! who are cousins-german of Leopold
Roberts' Italian pecheuses. And Gervex's bath-scene, and The
Blondine of Ballavoine ! C'en ctait trop. She would not stop to
look at Detaille's Barracks and Vollon's magnificent Paris under
Snow, but fled down-stairs as though—as though a Frenchman were
after her. And I went and startled ces bons parents by dining en
famille; and dreamt of la famille all night. II y a des moments oil
on consentirait d etre Anglais. A propos of English and Art,

iEstheticism hasn't much chance here, as the worship of the Lily
is confined to the Monarchists. The Lily and the Bee! Both
out of luck in France just now.

Alas, poor Grevy ! How pleasant it must be for the master of a
household to be ruled by his butler! Gambetta is L'BTo?nme
Necessaire—the man for the time ; but for what time ? Paul Bert,
Rampant Vivisectionist and Ferocious Freethinker—whose idea of
liberty of thought is to compel everyone to think as he does—is a
difficulty. At the Bert idea Boulevardiers haussent les epaules.
Demissions coming in fast.

Mercredi.—K melancholy day, though entirely devoted to Lecocq.
Managed to console myself towards the hour of Madeira, after
trying to look at Belot's Fleur de Crime, by reflecting that
if they are buying the book by thousands, there is still a future
for the Opera-bouffe in Paris. Ceci console de cela.

Jeudi.— Finished Fleur de Crime before I went out. What
a poor attempt at combining Zola,_ Arthur Arnould, and the^ Vie
Parisienne! Ah, give me La Soiree Parisienne at the Varietes,
with Miss JEnea, Dupuis, Lassouche, and—surtout — toujours
TnEO. That's true Parisian: an ex-Prefect, qui s'emancipe^ a
Bretonne beginning her career as an amuseuse. Theo's a divinity
—I mean I take a loge to see Theo, and that's the sort of Theo-
loge-ian I am.

Vendredi at the Vaudeville. Sardou's Odette. Much better
have let it remain an Owe'd Debt. One person, at all events, thinks
very highly of it, and that is M. Sardou.

A French Theatrical Agent asked me, " Has Sardou's piece any
chance in London ? " .

To which I at once replied, that it would be " a Has-Sardous piece
to try." Ahem ! Good-bye !

Discovered at Last \—Exact Position of the Centre of Gravity.
—The Office of " The Quarterly:'