Punch (92.1887)

158

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHAKIVAKI.

[April 2, 1887.

THINGS ONE WOULD RATHER HAVE LEFT UNSAID.

"Br THE way, your FEIEND O'LeAEY DIKED with me 1ast NIGHT. WHAT

a dull Dog he is ! "

" Oh, that depends on what Company he's in ! '

ANOTHER ONE.

Me. Phillps's The Dean's Daughter is not equal to
his As in a Looking Olass. Neither book ia intended
for the perusal of "the young person." We couldn't
even recommend it conscientiously as a study of oharaoter
for Miss Doeothy Dene—hut The Dean's Daughter,
after one of the chief characters has made his untimely
exit never to reappear, will Ecarcely interest the ex-
perienced and blase novel-reader.

The author does not consistently sustain the character
he has assumed. His quotations from Dickens and
Thackebay are not at all what such a woman as the
Dean's Daughter would make. Again, he loves to
illustrate a situation with well-worn old stories whioh,
however good they may be, he generally contrives to spoil
in the telling. One of these—which it is needless to say
we have told so admirably ourselves after dinner, handing
it down from our father and grandfather—about the man
tying his shoe at Crockford's, Mr. Philips ruins. He
casts Shebidan for the hero, and takes all the point out
of the Btory by elaboration. "We can forgive him for
writing a novel without a moral, but for spoiling this
dear old story—never! "We like Mr. Phillps's estimate
of Brighton, and his appreciation of eleven o'clock in the
morning as an excellent hour for anything.

The Dean himself is a combination of Pecksniff and
Eccles in one ecclesiastical character. On the stage
he would be played by Mr. John Clayton, better
as a Dean of Comedy than of Farce. The earlier por-
tion reminded us somewhat of Nancy ; but it is not
equal to that very clever work of Miss Bbougbton's.
Tts ending is abrupt and artistic according to Mr. Wetter's
Valentine theory. Perhaps she will be continued in his
next, and shown as going on the stage, making a hit, and
settling down into a dull and respectable middle age,
when her divorced husband, a nonagenarian, will be con-
vinced of her innocence. She will give him his gruel,
and he will make a will in her favour.

The blase novel-reader especially, will be disappointed,
as when reading Mr. Phillps's work, he will expeotmore
"fillips" than he will get.

Moonlighter's Feee Translation of Vibgil's " Con-
ticuere omnes, intentique ora tenebant"—Rendered thus:
— County Kerry men, the whole lot of 'em, taking precious
good care to hide their faces.

ON THE TOWING-PATH.

(A Cantabrigian Canto.)

The wind is brisk on the flowing tide ;
Like hammer'd silver the water wide

Is blown to knops and ridges ;
The battling sunbeams come and go,
And the tugs puff up with their flocks in tow,
And lumbering lighters, heavy and slow,

Drift, broadside on, through the bridges.

The willows have taken a sunny stain.
And the underglow of the Spring again

In amber and. brown is peeping;
The clouds, sun-broken, are moving free,
And the rooks caw loud from the leafless tree,
That shows in its waving tracery

"Where the wonder of leaves is sleeping.

And here they saunter, or stand at gaze,
"Waterside characters, old M.A.'s

And " Men" of the current fashion;
Clerical types of a first-boat crew,
Nursemaids natty, bedecked with blue,
Schoolboy truants, and damsels true

To a vague University passion.
But thought flies back to the " rounding grey,"
To the fenland flat, and the Autumn day,

And the path, where the patient gazer
Sees jogging along at a good round trot
"With vehement shouts to you can't see what,
And a band of runners all piping hot,

The Coach in a light-blue blazer.

And then the sullen and sluggish stream
Is woke by the stroke and lit by the gleam
Of broad blades strenuous lashing,

And pagans of hope in our hearts we sing,
Though we soon tail off in a panting string,
And the boat sweeps on with a lifting swing
And a certain amount of splashing.

And away goes pounding the old grey horse
Whose task was more a matter of " course "

Than any Gee's that has hair on;
And back as the tinkling bells recall
To much-cut Chapel, or cheery Hall,
Across the river, while shadows fall,

By the ferry that's kept by Charon.

Year after year unchanging change
Still finds new talent of equal range

In reading or cutting capers:
Still Dons are developed from Undergrads,
And Lights of Reason from roaring lads,
And the cranky ones are running their fads

In Parliament or the papers.

But the boat is coming; and, dark or light,
A 'Varsity Eight is a gallant sight,

No matter how grave we 're growing ;
And dear to the man with an open mind
In the sporting columns next day to find
Such opposite praises and blame combiued,

Such various views of rowing.
They write it up, and they write it down,
And it may or may not excite the town

Like a war or a Cabinet crisis ;
But whether the people go or stay,
No heart is callous on Boat-race Day,
That ever has seasoned work with play

Beside the Cam or the Isis.

The Happy Mean.—Self-complacent Screws.

AD REGINAM JUBILANTEM.

Oda in modo Horatii quam ego Tommius feci.

Regina ave Vic-toeia Maxima !
Proespns hie annus est Jubilum tuum.
Ut gaudeamus nos puelli
Fac holidas habeamus extra.

Dicat magister, ToMMIUS est piger :
Std illud omnis est oculus meus ;
Nam certe contendo quibusdam
Temporibus operor tremende.

Exempla quseris ? Est aliquis piger,
Q,ai vivit omni ludere pertinax
Occasione, atque est paratus
Ceu ocrtse laborare priscce ?

Si calcitranda est pila meo pede.
Sum omnis illic tempore, per Jovem,
In nullo ; nec moror voeatus
Ostiolum * duce nostro adire.

Haud reote pigrum Tommiolum potes
Vocare, versus magnificos videns,
ftuos ipse fecit, nec negabis
Huic puero sine fine kudos.

Regina vale! Sit Jubilum tuum
Mirandus annus pro pueris, precor:
Et vestra Majestas videbit,
Infinitas habebo alaudas.

* Hoc eat verbum pro " wicket" in meo Ainswortho.

A Game the Chancellor of the Exche-
quer thought op Playing.—" Tip-Cat."