Punch: Punch (82.1882)

April 8, 1882.]

PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARL

159

A WORD FOR THE
DOCTORS.

It is assuredlv high time that
research was protected, when
medical men engaged in inyesti-
gating a case of poisoning are
obliged to prosecute their in-
quiries in France, in order to
bring a criminal to justice in
England. No wonder, then, see-
ing how f'oolish and fanatical
people are ra.ying ahout subjects
they do not understand, that the
medical profession, under the
Presidencyof Sir William Jen-
nee, are taking steps to “hring
the legitimate influence of the
medical profession more effec-
tively to bear on the promotion
of those exact researches in phy-
siology, pathology, and thera-
peutics which are essential to
sound progress in the healing
art.” Yivisection conducted with
ansesthetics has saved thousands
of lives, and yet a prominent
female opponent of the practice,
who goes ahout denouncing it,
ignores that induhitable fact;
while, as a savant upon whom she
called pointed out to her, she
wore ostrich feathers taken from
the living hird, and a hird of
paradise which must have heen
skinned alive, and thus while she
raved against all experiments to
aid Science, she had no objection
to the infLiction of crueity for
her personal adornment.

PUNCH’S FANCY PORTRAI^S.-No. 78.

Public Opinion.

More “ public indignation ”
has been excited in Ludlow and
its neighhourhood by the murder,
or unsportsmanlike killing, of a
i fox, than is exeited in London by
the outrages on the Thames Em-
bankment, or in Ireland by the
^ daily murders in the streets of
Dublin. This shows the value of
I public opinion.

SIR JOHN WALTER HUDDLESTONE.

ONE OF THE

“ LAST OF THE BARONS.”

LITERARY IMPUDENCE. j

It is high time that someone-
with a voice of authority should
tell Novelists that their claims to
all-round copyright are impudent
and ridiculous. Their position is
strictly defined by the laws of'
England, and the laws of England
are simply perfect. Those who-
think otherwise are Atheists and
Fenians. A Novelist should not
only write as many novels as
possible, but should write them
in a more dramatic form, so as to
give adapters far less trouble.

No one but those in the trade
can imagine the difficulty an
adapter has to encounter in copy-
ing the dialogue, incidents,
characters, and names of the
Novelist’s creation. Novels that
long ago have been through the-
fierce fire of critical wrath, are
just the books that an adapter is
justified in laying his hands upon.
He does a public service by.
dragging them from their obscu-
rity, and subjecting them to the
purifying infiuence of the Lord
Chamrerlain and the playgoers,
and a repetition of adverse-
criticism. He is fairly entitled
to all the praise he gets for
attempting a difficult task, and
the Novelist ought to be thankful
for any publicity obtained for
his work, even if it is largely
leavened with abuse and misre-
presentation.

In return for the privilege of
having the refusal of the Lau-
reate’s new play, Mr. Irving will
probably give him his acceptance.
Irving and Tennison are two
good names to a bill when
Cup-led together.

Mr. Gladstone in The Cbitig
at Harrow.—“No scandal about
Queen Elizabeth, I hope! ”—
[See Sheridan’s Masterpiece,
Act II. Sc. 1.]

The dedication was, “ To the Beneficent Influence of the Five Mystic
Letters; ” the poem, which (owing to the magnificent size of the
printing) filled ninety-eight pages, was nevertheless in but two
couplets, _ called “ The Onion—A Harmony of Scents.” The con-
cluding lines of this remarkable poem were :—

“ 0! Subtle Essence of the field and valley,

Of lonely moorland, and of wind-swept fell,

What can I sing ? 'What can I tell

Save this, For ever I would dally

’Mid thy rank rhapsody of Saintly Smell! ”

The greatest curse which can afflict the human mind is Envy. The
honest appreciation of his feilow-creatures raised up this vice in the
mind of Bradds. Bradds was passing wealthv. He had started
three theatres, and had an omnibus load of securities in Turkish
Bonds. But despite these advantages, despite his dinners, despite
the fact that he knew the Lord Mayor, and changed the Gardenia in
his button-hole three times a day, Bradds was not a Social Success.
Even Baronets (of the United Kingdom) fought shy of his entertain-
ments. He envied De Roncesvalles with the hitter envy ofa blicihted
existence. But Bradds was a practical man of business, a man, who,
when he bought an article at two and elevenpence three farthings,
always waited till he got his change out of three shillings. Like
Walpole, he knew that every man has his price, and he resolved to
acquire the secret of the Five Mystic Letters. He wrote to De
! Roncesvalles.

******

! On the morning of the first of April, when the sale of human
I beings, notwithstanding the Anti-Slavery Laws is annually effected,

the Bard had scarcely finished his frugal matutinal meal of yellow
chartreuse, green ginger and caviare, when Bradds was announced
and ushered into his presence. Bradds, who had bought a new
white waistcoat (with sixpence discount, cash) for the occasion, was
unusually excited. In his right hand he clutched a twelve-to-the-
sheet cheque book. “ The secret’s mine for twenty-five thousand
pounds,” he said, without more ado, “ the secret of the Five Letters
for twenty-five thousand pounds.” And he sighed deeply.

“ Guineas,” corrected the Poet, “ I am above the aureous influence
of Lucre, but I am the Apostle of Accuracy.”

“ So be it—guineas,” muttered Bradds, tearing a slip from his
cheque-book and. filling it in, while the Seeker after the Truth
simultaneously pencilled something on the unused side of a trades-
man’s bill. A dead silence occurred, durmg which an observer, had
he been present, would assuredly have heard the muffied thud of a
pin upon the Persian carpet. The voice of the Poet broke the
monotony of the silence. “ Uncrossed ! ” he ejaculated.

“ It is,” replied Bradds, handing him the document to which he
had just appended his signature. “ And now for the secret of the
Five Mystic Letters.”

The Seer pressed the paper upon which he had written into the
eager fingers of Bradds. It simply boretheinscription “CHEEK,”
in a quaint scholarly hand.

That same night it was rumoured that the Seer of the Onionic
Cult had retired from business in order to espouse the lovely but
penniless daughter of a Celtic Nobleman. Concurrently the abrupt
. departure of Bradds the Millionnaire, for a tour in Central Africa,

; was announced in the cheaper evening journals. No one has as yet
authoritatively contradicted these statements.