DOI Heft:
June 29, 1889
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17687#0318
310
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI,
[June 29, 1889.
The Admiral.
responsive flicker of amusement on faces round liim. All looked
grave, sad, reproachful. Smile after few ghastly flickers, died off
Old Morality’s face. “Was it true? Could it be so, that he had
shown himself aggressive, bullying the House, trampling on the rights
of private Members, scaring bis colleagues with scathing glances ?
He bent his head in acknowledgment of the crime, resolved to fight
against his besetting sin. Business done.—Supply.
Tuesday.—Miraculous effect of waving of Old Morality’s magic
wand. His masterly speech of yesterday has overcome all opposition,
smoothed away all acerbity, brought about a political Millennium.
“ Talk about squeezing oil out of bladders on to the stormy seas,”
said Admiral Field “it’s nothing to our great Captain’s opera-
tions. I’m an old Salt of many years
pickle. Suppose I may say that I’m
the best stage sailor in the House, more
rollicking in my gait, more familiarly
uncouth in my speech, and more gene-
rally a nuisance than any. other retired
Admiral. Feel I’ve a right to speak
on this as on any other matter, and I
will say that, for a regular storm-
soother, a patent dead-calm producer,
pipe all hands aloft and give me Old
Morality ! ”
More point than usual in Admiral’s
remarks. House evidently made up its
mind to wind up business, and get ready
to make holiday with the Shah.
Grandolph, who was to have smashed
Georgie Hamilton in Committee,
salmon-fishing in the Champs Elysees ;
Charlie Beresford still aboard the
lighthouse ; even the austere spirit of
Sage of Queen Anne’s Gate subdued.
Yotes put and passed without contro-
versy ; thousands piled on tens of
thousands, and millions on millions.
By Half-past Ten the last Yote for the year in Yavy Estimates
agreed to. Everyone makes believe it is in ordinary course of
things ; not even a cheer raised. Then Fleet retires ; British Army
assembles on the strand, and Stanhope moves successive Yotes. The
Colonels prove as . docile as the Admirals; Yote after Yote passed ;
only when midnight hour strikes, Committee pulled up, having
done more work in a single sitting than accomplished in the whole
of twenty-nine nights previously spent in Committee.
Business done.—Supply voted with both hands.
Thursday.—George Campbell managed to give a fillip to Debate
on Scotch Universities Bill. Didn’t look as if anyone could doit;
hut George, taking counsel with Dr. Clark, managed it. Debate
been on for several hours. Scot succeeded Scot with regularity and
despatch. English, Welsh, and Irish Members fled the scene. It
was Home liule realised; Scotch Parliament debating a Scotch
measure. Joseph Gillis, whose judicial engagements keep him in
town, hovered around the back benches, casting benevolent regard
upon the scene. Particularly enjoyed the bored look of the Clerks,
and the lassitude against which Speaker bravely struggled. When
five or six. Members rose together, competing for precedence,
Joseph’s smile broadened, and his eye took on a deeper mist of tender-
ness as it fell upon the four or five who missed the chance and
resumed seat with woebegone look. After a while the pleasure
palled, and Joseph lightly withdrew, to return again at midnight
and see that no one by accident got his Bill advanced a stage.
Campbell and Clark each had speech to make. Hose with great
regularity when opening presented itself. Speaker didn’t see them.
“Oh! very well!” said the Knight of Kircaldy, “the time
will come when you shall hear me.”
. Lyon Playfair, finding an opening, grew quite eloquent. “The
lion rampant o’ Scotland,” said he, “ has been standing on its hind
legs, pawing the air.” Curious to note how involuntarily the orator,
extending his hands, imitated gesture of the nobler beast.
At midnight Professor Stuart on his legs, “commenting with
satisfaction on the clauses for affiliation with local institutions with
the Universities.” Only ten minutes left. Old Morality sent for;
hurriedly enters; planted himself on extreme edge of Bench, with
hands on knees and eye on the clock; familiar attitude, ready to
pounce.. Stuart, catching sight of him, brought remarks to sudden
conclusion. Five minutes to twelve, and still time to divide. Then
uprose Knight of Kircaldy and moved adjournment of Debate.
Cry of despair from Ministerial Benches. Old Morality’s emotion
pitiful to look on. Just missed his chance. If he moved that
“the question be now put,” “ the question ” would be, not that Bill
be read a Second Time, but that Debate be now adjourned. Appealed
to Knight to withdraw. Clark said “ Yo.” He and Knight would
die first. Question put, that Debate be now adjourned; the Knight
relented; did not challenge Speaker’s decision that Yoes had it.
Therefore Debate might proceed. Clark rose to continue it. Only
two minutes to twelve. If he spoke for two minutes Debate neces-
sarily stands adjourned. Critical moment. Old Morality, trembling
with excitement, rose to its height. Almost tumbling off edge of
seat, he pounced. Closure was carried, with sixty seconds to
spare, and, just on the stroke of Midnight, Bill read Second Time.
“ These are mad moments,” said Old Morality, as he passed the
Lord Advocate’s handkerchief over his moist and massive brow,
“ that make old men of us before our due time.”
Business done.—Scotch University Bill read Second Time.
Friday Night.—Ireland once more burst in at Evening Sitting.
Introduced by John Ellis. House went back to old topic like
reformed drunkard breaking out again. Benches filled; eyes
brightened; faces flushed; cheers and counter-cheers filled place.
Grand Old Man looked in, spoiling for a fight. Up half-a-dozen
times whilst Saunderson speaking. But no chance for Old Parlia-
mentary Hand. Arthur Balfour driven into last half hour of
sitting; John Morley crushed out altogether; Clancy delivered
tremendous oration; Saunderson lashed out in fine form. Then
Wind-bag Sexton took the floor, and all was lost. Stretched himself
and his speech over Half-past Twelve. Business done.—More Supply.
SOLDIERING AT ISLINGTON.
Three more days of the Military Tournament! Charming sight
at Merry Military Islington. Go and see the musical single-stick
drill by the boys of the Koyal Military Asylum, Chelsea._ Yot a
single stick among them. What a good idea for rehearsing dull
actors ? The “ Single-stick Drill ” eh ? The Prince of Wales’s own
Lancers—Dancers are as good as ever, and their musical ride is one
of the prettiest sights of the Show. So for the Gallant Heavies on
their magnificent chargers. The musical dumb-bell Sailor Boys
Drill is a fine sight. How the exercise opens their sea-chests ! And
then to see them marching home gaily sucking oranges ! “ The Tug
of War,” is exciting. This is a part of the entertainment calculated
to attract all Etonians, and I wonder your friend Mr. Dumb Crambo
hasn’t drawn a youthful Eton Colleger squaring up at an Oppidan to
illustrate “ The ‘ Tug ’ of War.”
The Grand Finale of laying down a river, starting, a couple of
banks—quite secure, and offering facilities for military investment—
of making a bridge in less than five minutes, of bivouacking, of
firing, fighting, killing, wounding, mending, marring, storming and
“ The Camels are coming! On quick ! On slow ! ”
capturing the fort, is admirably done. This portion of the show,
with the additional novelty of a specimen of the Camel Corps, is
under the command of Colonel Onslow, the Inspector of Military
Gymnasia, who has done so much to give an impulse to useful and
entertaining work. Then, when the battle is over, to see them pack
up, demolish the bridge, pull up the river (without any boat! quite
a marvel in itself), carry off the wounded, and ride and drive away
as blithe as thrushes in the early morn, sends all the spectators away
contented, except such as choose to stop for the lemon-slicing and
ring-sticking for prizes. Perhaps ere this appears the German Dogs
of War will be on view. In speed they excel bicyclists and horses,
and are trained to fetch and carry despatches. .Retrievers capable of
retrieving the ill fortunes of war. Ah, que j'aime les Militavres.
And long life to Major Marcus Tullius, the courteous and obliging
Cicerone. The Angel of Islington.
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI,
[June 29, 1889.
The Admiral.
responsive flicker of amusement on faces round liim. All looked
grave, sad, reproachful. Smile after few ghastly flickers, died off
Old Morality’s face. “Was it true? Could it be so, that he had
shown himself aggressive, bullying the House, trampling on the rights
of private Members, scaring bis colleagues with scathing glances ?
He bent his head in acknowledgment of the crime, resolved to fight
against his besetting sin. Business done.—Supply.
Tuesday.—Miraculous effect of waving of Old Morality’s magic
wand. His masterly speech of yesterday has overcome all opposition,
smoothed away all acerbity, brought about a political Millennium.
“ Talk about squeezing oil out of bladders on to the stormy seas,”
said Admiral Field “it’s nothing to our great Captain’s opera-
tions. I’m an old Salt of many years
pickle. Suppose I may say that I’m
the best stage sailor in the House, more
rollicking in my gait, more familiarly
uncouth in my speech, and more gene-
rally a nuisance than any. other retired
Admiral. Feel I’ve a right to speak
on this as on any other matter, and I
will say that, for a regular storm-
soother, a patent dead-calm producer,
pipe all hands aloft and give me Old
Morality ! ”
More point than usual in Admiral’s
remarks. House evidently made up its
mind to wind up business, and get ready
to make holiday with the Shah.
Grandolph, who was to have smashed
Georgie Hamilton in Committee,
salmon-fishing in the Champs Elysees ;
Charlie Beresford still aboard the
lighthouse ; even the austere spirit of
Sage of Queen Anne’s Gate subdued.
Yotes put and passed without contro-
versy ; thousands piled on tens of
thousands, and millions on millions.
By Half-past Ten the last Yote for the year in Yavy Estimates
agreed to. Everyone makes believe it is in ordinary course of
things ; not even a cheer raised. Then Fleet retires ; British Army
assembles on the strand, and Stanhope moves successive Yotes. The
Colonels prove as . docile as the Admirals; Yote after Yote passed ;
only when midnight hour strikes, Committee pulled up, having
done more work in a single sitting than accomplished in the whole
of twenty-nine nights previously spent in Committee.
Business done.—Supply voted with both hands.
Thursday.—George Campbell managed to give a fillip to Debate
on Scotch Universities Bill. Didn’t look as if anyone could doit;
hut George, taking counsel with Dr. Clark, managed it. Debate
been on for several hours. Scot succeeded Scot with regularity and
despatch. English, Welsh, and Irish Members fled the scene. It
was Home liule realised; Scotch Parliament debating a Scotch
measure. Joseph Gillis, whose judicial engagements keep him in
town, hovered around the back benches, casting benevolent regard
upon the scene. Particularly enjoyed the bored look of the Clerks,
and the lassitude against which Speaker bravely struggled. When
five or six. Members rose together, competing for precedence,
Joseph’s smile broadened, and his eye took on a deeper mist of tender-
ness as it fell upon the four or five who missed the chance and
resumed seat with woebegone look. After a while the pleasure
palled, and Joseph lightly withdrew, to return again at midnight
and see that no one by accident got his Bill advanced a stage.
Campbell and Clark each had speech to make. Hose with great
regularity when opening presented itself. Speaker didn’t see them.
“Oh! very well!” said the Knight of Kircaldy, “the time
will come when you shall hear me.”
. Lyon Playfair, finding an opening, grew quite eloquent. “The
lion rampant o’ Scotland,” said he, “ has been standing on its hind
legs, pawing the air.” Curious to note how involuntarily the orator,
extending his hands, imitated gesture of the nobler beast.
At midnight Professor Stuart on his legs, “commenting with
satisfaction on the clauses for affiliation with local institutions with
the Universities.” Only ten minutes left. Old Morality sent for;
hurriedly enters; planted himself on extreme edge of Bench, with
hands on knees and eye on the clock; familiar attitude, ready to
pounce.. Stuart, catching sight of him, brought remarks to sudden
conclusion. Five minutes to twelve, and still time to divide. Then
uprose Knight of Kircaldy and moved adjournment of Debate.
Cry of despair from Ministerial Benches. Old Morality’s emotion
pitiful to look on. Just missed his chance. If he moved that
“the question be now put,” “ the question ” would be, not that Bill
be read a Second Time, but that Debate be now adjourned. Appealed
to Knight to withdraw. Clark said “ Yo.” He and Knight would
die first. Question put, that Debate be now adjourned; the Knight
relented; did not challenge Speaker’s decision that Yoes had it.
Therefore Debate might proceed. Clark rose to continue it. Only
two minutes to twelve. If he spoke for two minutes Debate neces-
sarily stands adjourned. Critical moment. Old Morality, trembling
with excitement, rose to its height. Almost tumbling off edge of
seat, he pounced. Closure was carried, with sixty seconds to
spare, and, just on the stroke of Midnight, Bill read Second Time.
“ These are mad moments,” said Old Morality, as he passed the
Lord Advocate’s handkerchief over his moist and massive brow,
“ that make old men of us before our due time.”
Business done.—Scotch University Bill read Second Time.
Friday Night.—Ireland once more burst in at Evening Sitting.
Introduced by John Ellis. House went back to old topic like
reformed drunkard breaking out again. Benches filled; eyes
brightened; faces flushed; cheers and counter-cheers filled place.
Grand Old Man looked in, spoiling for a fight. Up half-a-dozen
times whilst Saunderson speaking. But no chance for Old Parlia-
mentary Hand. Arthur Balfour driven into last half hour of
sitting; John Morley crushed out altogether; Clancy delivered
tremendous oration; Saunderson lashed out in fine form. Then
Wind-bag Sexton took the floor, and all was lost. Stretched himself
and his speech over Half-past Twelve. Business done.—More Supply.
SOLDIERING AT ISLINGTON.
Three more days of the Military Tournament! Charming sight
at Merry Military Islington. Go and see the musical single-stick
drill by the boys of the Koyal Military Asylum, Chelsea._ Yot a
single stick among them. What a good idea for rehearsing dull
actors ? The “ Single-stick Drill ” eh ? The Prince of Wales’s own
Lancers—Dancers are as good as ever, and their musical ride is one
of the prettiest sights of the Show. So for the Gallant Heavies on
their magnificent chargers. The musical dumb-bell Sailor Boys
Drill is a fine sight. How the exercise opens their sea-chests ! And
then to see them marching home gaily sucking oranges ! “ The Tug
of War,” is exciting. This is a part of the entertainment calculated
to attract all Etonians, and I wonder your friend Mr. Dumb Crambo
hasn’t drawn a youthful Eton Colleger squaring up at an Oppidan to
illustrate “ The ‘ Tug ’ of War.”
The Grand Finale of laying down a river, starting, a couple of
banks—quite secure, and offering facilities for military investment—
of making a bridge in less than five minutes, of bivouacking, of
firing, fighting, killing, wounding, mending, marring, storming and
“ The Camels are coming! On quick ! On slow ! ”
capturing the fort, is admirably done. This portion of the show,
with the additional novelty of a specimen of the Camel Corps, is
under the command of Colonel Onslow, the Inspector of Military
Gymnasia, who has done so much to give an impulse to useful and
entertaining work. Then, when the battle is over, to see them pack
up, demolish the bridge, pull up the river (without any boat! quite
a marvel in itself), carry off the wounded, and ride and drive away
as blithe as thrushes in the early morn, sends all the spectators away
contented, except such as choose to stop for the lemon-slicing and
ring-sticking for prizes. Perhaps ere this appears the German Dogs
of War will be on view. In speed they excel bicyclists and horses,
and are trained to fetch and carry despatches. .Retrievers capable of
retrieving the ill fortunes of war. Ah, que j'aime les Militavres.
And long life to Major Marcus Tullius, the courteous and obliging
Cicerone. The Angel of Islington.