Punch (94.1888)

204 PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [Apwl 28, 1888.

Thursday.—Abthub Balfottb really confused to-night. Generally
thought that lowest depths of barbarous cruelty been reached when
O'Bbien's breeches were annexed.

Now Sweeney's braces are missing.

Balfottb more than suspected. Clancy brings charge in form of
question. Balfottb, white to the lips, tries to assume easy air. But
E. Habeington sternly pins him to the fact that when John
Sweeney entered Galway goal he wore braces— (" Suspenders" they
were called in the printed question, braces not being a Parliamentary
word); when John Sweeney woke up one morning he found his
suspenders had disappeared, like the snow on the mountains, like
the foam on the river, gone and for ever.

"Where are those suspenders now ? B. Habeington asked.

Guilty blood mounted to forehead of Abthttb Balfottb. No one
even suggested that he had personally appropriated Sweeney's
suBpenders. But where were they f No satisfactory answer. Whole
thing looked very bad, and Government gladly changed subject by
resnming debate on Local Government Bill.

Business done.—Sweeney's suspenders solemnly sought.

Friday.—Fireworks at last. Sixth night of debate on Second
Reading of Local Government Bill. A long, depressing experience.
To-night, just when flickering out. Haecotjet lighted up place with
corruscation of impromptus. "Went for " his dear friend and late
colleague Chambeelain with great gusto. Only pity Chambee-
lain not there to hear it. House enjoyed it immensely. Quite took
shine out of Goschen, who didn't make single joke.

Business done.—Local Government Bill read Second Time.

VALUABLE LITERARY FRAGMENT.

It is with much pleasure that we publish the following extract
from a new historical play, which, judging from internal evidence,
seems to have been written by the joint Authors of the latest Hay-
market success.

Scene—Hampton Court. Wits of the period discovered laughing.

Lady of the Court. Ah, Mr. Shebidan and you consider the poem
I have read to you will have great weight with his Majesty ?

Sheridan {with a low bow). It should, Madam—-for it is decidedly
heavy. [All laugh.

Dry den. Pat that in your next comedy and bury it.

[ Takes a pinch of snuff and nudges Cibbee. Some laugh.
Colley Vibber. It would he safer in the Doctor's Dictionary—there
no one would read it.

[Takes snuff and nudges Shebidan. All laugh.
Johnson. That is a matter of opinion, Mr. Cibbeb; but remember,
as Boswell says, we cannot make a silk purse out of a sow's ear.
[Dbyden. Cibbeb, and Shebiban nudge each other and take
snuff. Johnson scowls. Some laugh.
Herald. Ihe King I

Flourish of trumpets. Enter William the Ttlibd and Queen Anne
with Court.
King. Where is the Duchess ?

Colley Cibber (with a low bow). I presume. Sire, you ask for the
Duch-e&s as a Dutch-man ? {The King smiles. All smile, except

the Black Page in the corner.
Flourish of trumpets. Enter the Duchess of Mablbobottgh.
King. So, my Lords and Gentlemen, you are in Hampton Court,
and you are pleased with it ? _ [Only the Black Page smiles.

Dryden {with a low bow). Certainly, Sire, we find no hamper in
Hampton. . [Alllaugh,

King. Quite so ; but it is not every bird that knows his own nest
on a market day in September. [Half the Court laugh.

Colley Cibber {half aside). That depends, your Majesty, on the
company ! [Nearly all laugh.

Defoe. But von forget that two's company, and three none.
[Nudges Dbyden, who chuckles, and nudges Colley Cibbeb.
Some lauyh.
Swift (satirically). Except on Ash Wednesday.

[All laugh except Boi-well, and the Herald with the trumpet.
Lady of the Court (curtseying). Nay, your Reverence, you forget
that a miller in a white hat h»s as much right to look at a cat as a
king. [Dbyden nudges Cibbeb, who nudges Johnson. All three
laugh aside.

Sheridan. I am reminded by your Ladyship's observation that
those ducks are pntting their heads under the water for divers
reasons. [Everybody laughs.

Oliver Goldsmith. What do you know about water, you impecu-
nious one ? Unless you take it in French as a owe ?

[He nudges Colley Cibbeb, who walks angrily away, using
4 gold-headed cane. Some laugh.

Steele. Which would be appropriate. Ton would expect to find
a hoe near a rake. [All laugh except Johnson, who nudges Cibbee.

Addison. Talking of rakes, I suppose you would buy one with a
spade guinea ?

[Takes snuff, and offers box to Defoe, who pockets it. Exit
Defoe, followed by Addison. Some laugh.
Johnson. Well, and why not 'i A shilling is, after all, only twelve
pence, and although I may be a penny wise, there is one close to me
who would be a pound foolish—or a philosopher ! [All laugh.

[Exit the Queen, much annoyed, followed by ihe Duchess of
Mablboeough, using fan. Exit Black Page.
King. I can well believe that, for I have often been to the Treasury
and-■

Dryden (bowing obsequiously). With your Majesty's pardon—
found it empty!

[The King laughs heartily, and slaps Dbyden on the back.
Everybody in convulsions and slapping everybody else on
the back. Music.
King. Well argued, Master Poet; but methinks good Collet
Cibbee, there is as much news in a hazel nut as an Intelligencer.

Colley Cibber. And so. Your Majesty, I take my leave-

Sheridan. Which is all you can take without the help of a French:
Dictionary!

[Colley Cibbee growls and exit slowly, as if not having got &
repartee quite ready. Dbyden and Johnson nudge each
other, and try to conceal their laughter. All laugh.
King You press him too hard ; remember that when a grub &
broken on the wheel you cannot expect it to turn out a butterfly.
Sheridan. Saving your Majesty's presence—except it be well-bred.

Like a half-open door—not only a door, but-

King. A Pomp-a door! [Everybody roaring with laughter.

Lady of the. Court (convulsed with merriment). Nay, Sire, as you
are strong be merciful! [Swoons-
Dryden. Merciful, Madam! In good sooth, your request, like
your weight, should turn the scales—as a fish does ! [Some 0ugh-
Re-enter Colley Cibbee.
King. Well, and what is the latest news ?

Colley Cibber {with a profound bow). I regret to say, y01lr
Majesty, that Queen Anne is dead ! _ [All laugh'

Curtain.

THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF PAINTERS IN WATER-COLOURS-

Yot; 'll find a vast variety of pictures here to con,
Here bright, and true as ever, is our excellent Sir John ! ,

And Bibket Fosteb*
skilful hand doth ex-
quisitely trace ,
The colour and the
beauty of Yerona«
Market Place;
While Hebbeet Mab'
shall's London Vie/'
are full of London
tone, ,g
And Miss Montalba^
Venice is delicious y°"
will own. , .

The "Loiterers," »>
Alfeed Fbipp,
"Quay Pool," don*
by Hale, , q

And Smallfield »
" Sleepy Sussex, ....
view you will not i>«v
"With Hunt's fre""
breezy landscapes t^r,
delighted you *n«

\)& 'A-

And' Moose's pell^',
breakers save excu
sions to the sea. . ^
There is AndbeW V^,

The Old (near) "Waterloo Place Weteran, T^K^SUT^!-UarveSi

5, Pall Mall East. Time "

And a picture by Glindoni, which is hard to get in rhyme. ,
There are drawings by Miss Maetineatj, by Watson, ana
Whaite.

By Beavis, Boyce, and Bead ley—but allow me just to state—_ j
There are many more you'll look at; 'twill repay you weu>

know. . ot, or

If you '11 drop in some fine morning to this Water-Colour Show-

The Dbamatist in the Lobby.—Mr. Josjph Nolan is said W
be engaged on bringing out a new version of Ihe Stranger.