DOI Heft:
March 1, 1884
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17756#0114
108
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [March l, 1884.
got a few hours’ sleep, bath, and breakfast, and down to House
again. Bra mi. a ugh yesterday re-elected for Northampton with
increased majority. Believed he would be down at twelve to-day,
swearing again. Hence this rush. But Bradlaugh only having a
lark with Hon. Gentlemen. Whilst they expecting him at the Bar,
he was sitting at window overlooking Palace Yard, chuckling as
Member after Member arrived in hot haste.
In absence of Bradlaugh, Irish Members obliged. O’Connor
Power, in speech full of lofty scorn, discusses Mr. Parnell and his
Party. Aptly quotes Burke to describe them as “ a species of men
to whom a state of order would become a sentence of obscurity.”
This shaft goes home. T. P. O'Connor affects not to hear. Mr.
Healy very angry, and not nearly so effective as usual in reply.
Sir Bin Van Winkle Otway wide awake now. “ How did it
happen, dear boy ? ” he says. “ Well, I don’t know. A little tired
of Debate; thought I would take a stroll on the Embankment.
Then it occurred to me Division on Vote of Censure might take place
any moment. Wouldn’t miss it for the Speaker’s wig. Harting-
ton up, good for half an hour at least; Northcote to follow, another
half an hour ; go and have a quiet read in my room. On the way
met Warton, who pressed pinch of snuff on me. Took up National
Revieiv. Dormant talent infectious. Went to sleep. Dreamed I
was at Antwerp, and heard Carillon. Slept on. Woke by knock
at door. ‘ Putting out gas, Sir Arthur,’ says one of the
Messengers. ‘House up ten minutes ago.’ ‘And the Division?’
I screamed. ‘ Division over,’ says the man. That ’s how it
happened. But I believe Warton’s snuff was drugged.”
Business done.—Got back to Debate on Address.
Thursday Night.—Lord Tennyson still hesitates to take his seat.
“Can’t understand it,” says Lord Brabourne. “/took mine at
earliest moment. Think it’s a duty one owes to Queen and coun-
try. Tennyson, I ’in afraid, a little eccentric. Not sure that
Gladstone right in making these poets Peers, though, of course,
there is increasing scarcity among Commoners of solid attainments,
statesmanlike views, modest demeanour, and ability to •write fairy
tales that don’t sell. He ought to leave us alone, not swamp us with
successful Generals and over-rated Poets.”
It is odd Tennyson doesn’t turn up. Can’t be difficulty about
clothes. Has been overwhelmed with offers of suits. Fact is,
he’s superstitious. Always had doubts about propriety of his
accepting Peerage. Sees in abstraction of his robes confirming fore-
finger of Fate.
Meanwhile, House of Lords jogs along quietly without him. Peers
come down regularly at quarter past four, and go home with un-
paralleled precision a few minutes after five. Salisbury and Gran-
ville as freezingly polite to each other as ever. To-night question
of arrival of text of Gordon’s proclamation.
“ When will it be here?” Salisbury asked. “ The newspapers
use the telegraph. Is Sir Evelyn Baring waiting for a Nile boat ? ”
he adds, with every appearance of genuine interest.
“I should think certainly not,” Granville replied, with equal
seriousness, as if matter were not out of reach of possibility, but was
not, on the whole, probable. Conversation across table between
Granville and Salisbury, only good thing House of Lords has left.
Commons, after spending hour and twenty minutes with Private
Bills, and an hour and ten minutes with Bradlaugh, devoted rest of
sitting to continuance of squabble between Orangemen and
Nationalists. Gladstone says Session is being wasted. Joseph
Gillis thinks not. Darkly hints that two more nights might
profitably be employed discussing Irish Magistracy.
Business done.—None.
Friday Night.—“ Four times
have I been put in gaol by a
Liberal Government,” Har-
rington said just now, looking
round upon few Members pre-
sent as if this at least would
shock them.
“Yes, yes,” said Gibson, a
little impatiently, for Har-
rington had been up an hour
now. “That’s not what we
complain of. Our grievance is
that they let you out.”
Dreadful man Harrington.
Vulgar, noisy, and empty.
Surely Ireland not played out
so low as this ?
Speaker begins to say Fare-
well. A sad Farewell, too, for
the House. Take him all in all,
can’t hope to see his like again.
Henry is the right Brand.
Business done. — Address
voted.
Serious Announcement.
Mr. Gladstone’s Collars are worn out.
No more after to-day. Last appear-
ance !
THE SECRET OF IT.
“There was much laughter,” says a contemporary, referring to
the proceedings at the great commercial dinner the other evening,
“ when M. de Lesseps mentioned that on his first visit to England
the publisher who brought out the report of his meetings charged, as
the first item in his bill, ‘ £50 for attacking the book in order to
make it succeed.’ ‘ Since then,’ observed M. de Lesseps, ‘ I have
been attacked gratuitously, and have got on without paying.’ ”
Laughter, no doubt, and plenty of it. But that publisher was an
excellent man of business for all that. There is nothing so necessary
to the makmg of reputation as virulent and persistent abuse. You
want to give a man a firm locus standi, rave like a maniac to cut the
ground from under him.
“ Genius un-abused—abused the most,”
is a sound line, and so M. de Lesseps has nothing to complain of.
But there are other things besides genius—other, and less worthy
things—that thrive and batten into large and unexpected proportion
on rancorous attack. Do we know of nothing—or rather of no one—
at the present moment conspicuous in our social midst whose name
has become a tower of strength through subjection to this vitupera-
tive process ? Perhaps Sir Stafford Northcote and his following
will reply ?
RESCUE OR RETIRE.
[Sir Wilfrid Lawson summed up the Government Policy in the words
Rescue and Retire.”]
John Bull to Gladstone.
Humph ! Wild wash Sir Wilfrid Lawson
With pump-like persistence jaws on,
Yet he gives you here (I guess) cue,
With a difference, William ! Rescue
Is your business ! While the fire
Rages firemen don’t retire.
When the wreck is plainly sinking
Lifeboat hands who are found shrinking,
Or with fear of danger smitten,
Get, not medals, but the mitten.
Verbum sap. ! You’ve had a squeak for it.
Keep your place ; but if too weak for it
Out you go! Don’t rouse my ire.
You must rescue—or retire !
A COLOURABLE COMPLAINT.
A Pedestrian calls attention to the fact that the walks in Hyde
Park, “ once remarkable for their dryness,” are now covered with
“a kind of yellow sand, which the least shower of rain converts into
a muddy paste ; ” and, he adds, that as a consequence of this experi-
mental essay in chromatic gardening, “ the principal walk along the
Row is often more like a dirty road than a properly kept promenade.”
If this is really the case, Mr. Bertle Mitford should, wait for a
thoroughly drenching day, and, armed cap-a-pie in mackintosh,
hurry off at once to the locality in question. If then, on inspecting
the slush, he has reason to believe, after looking at his boots, that
he has really put his foot into it, he should remedy the mischief
forthwith. The energy that has placed the Iron Duke on a neat
private cab-stand in Piccadilly, and may any day submerge the Park
Powder Magazine in the adjacent Serpentine, is not likely to be found
sticking in the mud for want of a little enterprise. The public will
await the result of Mr. Mitford’s stroll.
CRIMPING AND CRUELTY.
What is Vivisection ? Cutting an animal up alive, isn’t it ?
Crimped salmon and crimped cod are salmon and cod which have
been “ crimped ; ” that is, cut up alive. Is not therefore the process
of crimping salmon and cod Vivisection ?
What, is the purpose for which salmon and cod. are crimped ? Isn’t
it merely to improve their flavour that Vivisection is practised upon
them under the name of “ crimping ” ?
Is Vivisection, performed for the purpose of improving flavour,
less cruel and more excusable than Vivisection performed for the |
improvement of Physiology, Medicine, and Surgery ? Is it any more
legal ? Are not all fish-eaters who partake of crimped salmon or cod
partakers of the cruelty of the persons who crimp them ?
If the crimping of cod and salmon is not already, as Vivisection,
illegal, are not thoroughgoing Anti-Viviseetionists in consistency
bound to demand that it shall be declared so by Act of Parliament ?
Something Wrong with the Solar System.—Soles at Billings-
gate for half-a-crown the pound.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [March l, 1884.
got a few hours’ sleep, bath, and breakfast, and down to House
again. Bra mi. a ugh yesterday re-elected for Northampton with
increased majority. Believed he would be down at twelve to-day,
swearing again. Hence this rush. But Bradlaugh only having a
lark with Hon. Gentlemen. Whilst they expecting him at the Bar,
he was sitting at window overlooking Palace Yard, chuckling as
Member after Member arrived in hot haste.
In absence of Bradlaugh, Irish Members obliged. O’Connor
Power, in speech full of lofty scorn, discusses Mr. Parnell and his
Party. Aptly quotes Burke to describe them as “ a species of men
to whom a state of order would become a sentence of obscurity.”
This shaft goes home. T. P. O'Connor affects not to hear. Mr.
Healy very angry, and not nearly so effective as usual in reply.
Sir Bin Van Winkle Otway wide awake now. “ How did it
happen, dear boy ? ” he says. “ Well, I don’t know. A little tired
of Debate; thought I would take a stroll on the Embankment.
Then it occurred to me Division on Vote of Censure might take place
any moment. Wouldn’t miss it for the Speaker’s wig. Harting-
ton up, good for half an hour at least; Northcote to follow, another
half an hour ; go and have a quiet read in my room. On the way
met Warton, who pressed pinch of snuff on me. Took up National
Revieiv. Dormant talent infectious. Went to sleep. Dreamed I
was at Antwerp, and heard Carillon. Slept on. Woke by knock
at door. ‘ Putting out gas, Sir Arthur,’ says one of the
Messengers. ‘House up ten minutes ago.’ ‘And the Division?’
I screamed. ‘ Division over,’ says the man. That ’s how it
happened. But I believe Warton’s snuff was drugged.”
Business done.—Got back to Debate on Address.
Thursday Night.—Lord Tennyson still hesitates to take his seat.
“Can’t understand it,” says Lord Brabourne. “/took mine at
earliest moment. Think it’s a duty one owes to Queen and coun-
try. Tennyson, I ’in afraid, a little eccentric. Not sure that
Gladstone right in making these poets Peers, though, of course,
there is increasing scarcity among Commoners of solid attainments,
statesmanlike views, modest demeanour, and ability to •write fairy
tales that don’t sell. He ought to leave us alone, not swamp us with
successful Generals and over-rated Poets.”
It is odd Tennyson doesn’t turn up. Can’t be difficulty about
clothes. Has been overwhelmed with offers of suits. Fact is,
he’s superstitious. Always had doubts about propriety of his
accepting Peerage. Sees in abstraction of his robes confirming fore-
finger of Fate.
Meanwhile, House of Lords jogs along quietly without him. Peers
come down regularly at quarter past four, and go home with un-
paralleled precision a few minutes after five. Salisbury and Gran-
ville as freezingly polite to each other as ever. To-night question
of arrival of text of Gordon’s proclamation.
“ When will it be here?” Salisbury asked. “ The newspapers
use the telegraph. Is Sir Evelyn Baring waiting for a Nile boat ? ”
he adds, with every appearance of genuine interest.
“I should think certainly not,” Granville replied, with equal
seriousness, as if matter were not out of reach of possibility, but was
not, on the whole, probable. Conversation across table between
Granville and Salisbury, only good thing House of Lords has left.
Commons, after spending hour and twenty minutes with Private
Bills, and an hour and ten minutes with Bradlaugh, devoted rest of
sitting to continuance of squabble between Orangemen and
Nationalists. Gladstone says Session is being wasted. Joseph
Gillis thinks not. Darkly hints that two more nights might
profitably be employed discussing Irish Magistracy.
Business done.—None.
Friday Night.—“ Four times
have I been put in gaol by a
Liberal Government,” Har-
rington said just now, looking
round upon few Members pre-
sent as if this at least would
shock them.
“Yes, yes,” said Gibson, a
little impatiently, for Har-
rington had been up an hour
now. “That’s not what we
complain of. Our grievance is
that they let you out.”
Dreadful man Harrington.
Vulgar, noisy, and empty.
Surely Ireland not played out
so low as this ?
Speaker begins to say Fare-
well. A sad Farewell, too, for
the House. Take him all in all,
can’t hope to see his like again.
Henry is the right Brand.
Business done. — Address
voted.
Serious Announcement.
Mr. Gladstone’s Collars are worn out.
No more after to-day. Last appear-
ance !
THE SECRET OF IT.
“There was much laughter,” says a contemporary, referring to
the proceedings at the great commercial dinner the other evening,
“ when M. de Lesseps mentioned that on his first visit to England
the publisher who brought out the report of his meetings charged, as
the first item in his bill, ‘ £50 for attacking the book in order to
make it succeed.’ ‘ Since then,’ observed M. de Lesseps, ‘ I have
been attacked gratuitously, and have got on without paying.’ ”
Laughter, no doubt, and plenty of it. But that publisher was an
excellent man of business for all that. There is nothing so necessary
to the makmg of reputation as virulent and persistent abuse. You
want to give a man a firm locus standi, rave like a maniac to cut the
ground from under him.
“ Genius un-abused—abused the most,”
is a sound line, and so M. de Lesseps has nothing to complain of.
But there are other things besides genius—other, and less worthy
things—that thrive and batten into large and unexpected proportion
on rancorous attack. Do we know of nothing—or rather of no one—
at the present moment conspicuous in our social midst whose name
has become a tower of strength through subjection to this vitupera-
tive process ? Perhaps Sir Stafford Northcote and his following
will reply ?
RESCUE OR RETIRE.
[Sir Wilfrid Lawson summed up the Government Policy in the words
Rescue and Retire.”]
John Bull to Gladstone.
Humph ! Wild wash Sir Wilfrid Lawson
With pump-like persistence jaws on,
Yet he gives you here (I guess) cue,
With a difference, William ! Rescue
Is your business ! While the fire
Rages firemen don’t retire.
When the wreck is plainly sinking
Lifeboat hands who are found shrinking,
Or with fear of danger smitten,
Get, not medals, but the mitten.
Verbum sap. ! You’ve had a squeak for it.
Keep your place ; but if too weak for it
Out you go! Don’t rouse my ire.
You must rescue—or retire !
A COLOURABLE COMPLAINT.
A Pedestrian calls attention to the fact that the walks in Hyde
Park, “ once remarkable for their dryness,” are now covered with
“a kind of yellow sand, which the least shower of rain converts into
a muddy paste ; ” and, he adds, that as a consequence of this experi-
mental essay in chromatic gardening, “ the principal walk along the
Row is often more like a dirty road than a properly kept promenade.”
If this is really the case, Mr. Bertle Mitford should, wait for a
thoroughly drenching day, and, armed cap-a-pie in mackintosh,
hurry off at once to the locality in question. If then, on inspecting
the slush, he has reason to believe, after looking at his boots, that
he has really put his foot into it, he should remedy the mischief
forthwith. The energy that has placed the Iron Duke on a neat
private cab-stand in Piccadilly, and may any day submerge the Park
Powder Magazine in the adjacent Serpentine, is not likely to be found
sticking in the mud for want of a little enterprise. The public will
await the result of Mr. Mitford’s stroll.
CRIMPING AND CRUELTY.
What is Vivisection ? Cutting an animal up alive, isn’t it ?
Crimped salmon and crimped cod are salmon and cod which have
been “ crimped ; ” that is, cut up alive. Is not therefore the process
of crimping salmon and cod Vivisection ?
What, is the purpose for which salmon and cod. are crimped ? Isn’t
it merely to improve their flavour that Vivisection is practised upon
them under the name of “ crimping ” ?
Is Vivisection, performed for the purpose of improving flavour,
less cruel and more excusable than Vivisection performed for the |
improvement of Physiology, Medicine, and Surgery ? Is it any more
legal ? Are not all fish-eaters who partake of crimped salmon or cod
partakers of the cruelty of the persons who crimp them ?
If the crimping of cod and salmon is not already, as Vivisection,
illegal, are not thoroughgoing Anti-Viviseetionists in consistency
bound to demand that it shall be declared so by Act of Parliament ?
Something Wrong with the Solar System.—Soles at Billings-
gate for half-a-crown the pound.