DOI issue:
August 10, 1889
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17688#0078
72
[August 10, 1889.
PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
The Socialist. I don’t mind tellin’ yer, friends and feller citizens,
that in the late election in Heast Marylebone, I used all my influence—
(cheers)—all my influence to deter men from voting for your Radical
candidate. (Sensation, and a cry of “ More shame for yer ! ”) Ah,
I did, though, and I’d do it agin, and I ’ll tell yer for why. I ’ate
yer Tories, but if I’m to be ’it a blow in the face, I don’t like it
done behind my back. (Cheers.) And your precious Liberals and
Radicals, they re worse nor hany Tories, and for this reason— (with
a penetrating glance)—they’re more hinvidious! Ah. that’s it,
they ’re more hinvidious ! Traitors, hevery man jack of ’em !
[And so on, concluding with denunciations of all “ sending round the
’at,” and appeals for contributions to the Plan of Campaign.
Meeting dissolves with three cheers for the coming Republic from
the victims of a Tyrannous System of Repression of Opinion.
“A PUFF OF WYND-HAM”
During the past week the “many-headed” have crowded the
Criterion, and have thus kept up the average in capites lessened by
the appearance of
Mr. Charles
Wyndham as the
Headless Man.
Certainly the
popularity of the
Manager of the
subterranean
theatre has not
suffered by his
change of line.
Excellent as he
may be, and un-
doubtedly is, as
David Garrick
and John Mild-
may, no one can
touch him as Sam
Medley. There
has been nothing
to approach it
since Soihern
was at his best in
&”■ Lord Dundreary.
It is a great pity,
therefore, that
The Headless Man.
Mr. Wynt)ttaw is bound for America, and consequently that Londoners
will have to wait until his Transatlantic trip is over before they can
go in their hundreds and thousands to see one of the most amusing
pieces of modern times.
But, perhaps, after all, the relache may have its compensating ad-
vantages, as possibly when he does return (“he will return,_we know
him well”), he may be able to show us the play with an improved
cast. At the Criterion last week it was not altogether satisfactory.
Mr. Ceo. Giddens was deci-
dedly good, and Mr.
Blakeley was —■ well,
Blakeley, — and Miss
Paget was the pick of
ladies. But the rest!
doubt, Mr. Standing,
standing counsel for the firm
(pun purely accidental—shall
not occur again), was “con-
scientious,” and did what he
could with the part, which,
however, did not seem to be
much. But then Mr. Stand-
ing is not a Leigh Murray.
Again, Mr. J. _ Anderson in
the role of Reginald Mar court
(a dashing young officer ready
to elope at a moment’s notice
and set the Lord Chancellor
himself at defiance) was more
suggestive _ (from a military
point of view) of a Quarter-
master of East-End Volunteers
than a Captain of Royal
Dragoons. The ladies, too,
were not particularly good—
in fact, they might have been
better—if they had been, in
fact, other ladies! Not that
they were to be called sticks, although unquestionably numbering in
their list a Eorrest! But, after all, the piece rested upon the
Giddens the Peerless claims a Peerage.
shoulders of Mr. Wyndham, who carried it through with the
greatest possible go and animation. However, when Mr. Wyndham
reappears, it is to be hoped that the cast will be a little more satis-
factory. In the meanwhile, the Headless Man has everybody’s good
wishes for his success in America.
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
“ Bring me my Books ! ” said the Baron.—(Ingoldsby slightly altered.)
“ One cannot sit content with the belief that the manhood of the
whole world has been conquered by a habit invented and propa-
gated by the Red Indian of the American forests! ” So protests
Mr. William: Spencer Percival, of
H.B.M’s. Civil Service, China, in his
very readable book poetically called
The Land of the Dragon. (The reader
will find no drag on him, in perusing
that ‘ ‘ Record of Boating and Shooting
Excursions to the Gorges of the Upper
Yangtze.) Mr. Percival “cannot away
with ” the idea that the Pipe originated
in the West. He opines that “the
lotus of Greek and Egyptian lore was,
doubtless, the poppy, and the juice was not eaten, but delicately
inhaled.” “ Cleopatra, the beauteous Serpent of Old Nile, touched
with her lips the diamond-gemmed opium-pipe, as she alternately
flouted and lured Mark Antony.” Perhaps. At any rate, it is a
pity Mr. Rider Haggard didn’t take that view of it. If his sombre
ana sanguinary “ Royal Egypt,” had puffed even a cigarette of
lotus-seeds, it might have brightened, or at least soothed her, and
made her less disposed to ‘ ‘ stick daggers and carving-knives into
the gizzards ” of all and sundry her slaves and temporary lovers.
Mr. Walter Hamilton takes another and easier view of it. In
his Lyttel Parcell of Poems and Parodyes in Prayse of Tobacco
(a quaint little volume which all worshippers _ of the weed should
possess) he says, without doubt or demur, “It is almost universally
admitted that the primaeval smokers of the world were the natives
(so-called Indians) of North America, who had been smokers for ages
before the discovery of their country by the Spaniards, and who
looked upon Tobacco with superstitious awe as a special gift sent by
the Great Spirit for their delectation.” And then he proceeds to
make a very interesting collection of Poems in Prayse of Tobacco
from many sources, not omitting the repertory of Mr. Punch, By
the way, in some lines, quoted from Punch of April, 1882 on a col-
lection of “ Pipes of all Peoples,” made by “one Bragge,” the bard
sings:—
“ Here are queer pipes from Burmah and from Java,
From Turkey, Russia, and from far Japan;
Some made of wood, of ivory, of lava ;
Some that belonged to pre-historic Man.
From Mexico come pipes of terra-cotta,
That hapless Maximilian kept awhile,
And, ’mid the whole collection, there is not a
Pipe that's more strange than this from near the Nile."
Can the latter perchance have come from the collection of Cleopatra
herself ? At any rate, its existence seems rather to favour the theory,
or dream, of Mr. Percival. The Baron’s faithful Co., improvising
for the occasion, says :—
“ It may be, as Percival fancies, that Lotus
"Was puffed from the lips of the great Coptic Queen ;
Or that we of the West were the first to devote us
To Manitu’s merciful gift, Nicotine.
But whether ’twas bom in ‘ the Land of the Dragon,’
Or nursed by the Nile till our season was ripe,
As accompaniment to rest, talk, or a flagon,
There’s nothing in Nature so good as—a Pipe.”
There! Let Messrs. Percival and Hamilton put that in their
respective pipes and smoke it.
It is, as Sir Walter Scott and Charles Dickens discovered, a
more difficult thing to write up to children than down to men and
women. Miss Mudholland has discovered the secret in her narrative
of The Strange Adventures of Little Snoivdrop. (R. Washbotjrne.)
It is a tale about children for children, an a. Little Snoivdrop and
her companions really talk as children do; which is not only greatly
to their credit, but to that of Miss Mdlholland. A nice, whole-
some, pretty, graphic story.
Our Celebrities this month in the Walery-Gallery are appropriately
the Shah, an excellent likeness, in company with the Comte de Paris
and the Duke of Fife, whose appearance is exactly the same as when
his Lordship was Earl of that ilk.
The Baron De Book-Worms & Co.
CHORDS OF THE ANTI-FRANCHISE-TO-WOMEN LADIES.
We don’t want to vote, hut by Jingo when we do,
We send the men, we have the tongues, and use the money too !
NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will
in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule
there will be no exception.
[August 10, 1889.
PUNCH, OP THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
The Socialist. I don’t mind tellin’ yer, friends and feller citizens,
that in the late election in Heast Marylebone, I used all my influence—
(cheers)—all my influence to deter men from voting for your Radical
candidate. (Sensation, and a cry of “ More shame for yer ! ”) Ah,
I did, though, and I’d do it agin, and I ’ll tell yer for why. I ’ate
yer Tories, but if I’m to be ’it a blow in the face, I don’t like it
done behind my back. (Cheers.) And your precious Liberals and
Radicals, they re worse nor hany Tories, and for this reason— (with
a penetrating glance)—they’re more hinvidious! Ah. that’s it,
they ’re more hinvidious ! Traitors, hevery man jack of ’em !
[And so on, concluding with denunciations of all “ sending round the
’at,” and appeals for contributions to the Plan of Campaign.
Meeting dissolves with three cheers for the coming Republic from
the victims of a Tyrannous System of Repression of Opinion.
“A PUFF OF WYND-HAM”
During the past week the “many-headed” have crowded the
Criterion, and have thus kept up the average in capites lessened by
the appearance of
Mr. Charles
Wyndham as the
Headless Man.
Certainly the
popularity of the
Manager of the
subterranean
theatre has not
suffered by his
change of line.
Excellent as he
may be, and un-
doubtedly is, as
David Garrick
and John Mild-
may, no one can
touch him as Sam
Medley. There
has been nothing
to approach it
since Soihern
was at his best in
&”■ Lord Dundreary.
It is a great pity,
therefore, that
The Headless Man.
Mr. Wynt)ttaw is bound for America, and consequently that Londoners
will have to wait until his Transatlantic trip is over before they can
go in their hundreds and thousands to see one of the most amusing
pieces of modern times.
But, perhaps, after all, the relache may have its compensating ad-
vantages, as possibly when he does return (“he will return,_we know
him well”), he may be able to show us the play with an improved
cast. At the Criterion last week it was not altogether satisfactory.
Mr. Ceo. Giddens was deci-
dedly good, and Mr.
Blakeley was —■ well,
Blakeley, — and Miss
Paget was the pick of
ladies. But the rest!
doubt, Mr. Standing,
standing counsel for the firm
(pun purely accidental—shall
not occur again), was “con-
scientious,” and did what he
could with the part, which,
however, did not seem to be
much. But then Mr. Stand-
ing is not a Leigh Murray.
Again, Mr. J. _ Anderson in
the role of Reginald Mar court
(a dashing young officer ready
to elope at a moment’s notice
and set the Lord Chancellor
himself at defiance) was more
suggestive _ (from a military
point of view) of a Quarter-
master of East-End Volunteers
than a Captain of Royal
Dragoons. The ladies, too,
were not particularly good—
in fact, they might have been
better—if they had been, in
fact, other ladies! Not that
they were to be called sticks, although unquestionably numbering in
their list a Eorrest! But, after all, the piece rested upon the
Giddens the Peerless claims a Peerage.
shoulders of Mr. Wyndham, who carried it through with the
greatest possible go and animation. However, when Mr. Wyndham
reappears, it is to be hoped that the cast will be a little more satis-
factory. In the meanwhile, the Headless Man has everybody’s good
wishes for his success in America.
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
“ Bring me my Books ! ” said the Baron.—(Ingoldsby slightly altered.)
“ One cannot sit content with the belief that the manhood of the
whole world has been conquered by a habit invented and propa-
gated by the Red Indian of the American forests! ” So protests
Mr. William: Spencer Percival, of
H.B.M’s. Civil Service, China, in his
very readable book poetically called
The Land of the Dragon. (The reader
will find no drag on him, in perusing
that ‘ ‘ Record of Boating and Shooting
Excursions to the Gorges of the Upper
Yangtze.) Mr. Percival “cannot away
with ” the idea that the Pipe originated
in the West. He opines that “the
lotus of Greek and Egyptian lore was,
doubtless, the poppy, and the juice was not eaten, but delicately
inhaled.” “ Cleopatra, the beauteous Serpent of Old Nile, touched
with her lips the diamond-gemmed opium-pipe, as she alternately
flouted and lured Mark Antony.” Perhaps. At any rate, it is a
pity Mr. Rider Haggard didn’t take that view of it. If his sombre
ana sanguinary “ Royal Egypt,” had puffed even a cigarette of
lotus-seeds, it might have brightened, or at least soothed her, and
made her less disposed to ‘ ‘ stick daggers and carving-knives into
the gizzards ” of all and sundry her slaves and temporary lovers.
Mr. Walter Hamilton takes another and easier view of it. In
his Lyttel Parcell of Poems and Parodyes in Prayse of Tobacco
(a quaint little volume which all worshippers _ of the weed should
possess) he says, without doubt or demur, “It is almost universally
admitted that the primaeval smokers of the world were the natives
(so-called Indians) of North America, who had been smokers for ages
before the discovery of their country by the Spaniards, and who
looked upon Tobacco with superstitious awe as a special gift sent by
the Great Spirit for their delectation.” And then he proceeds to
make a very interesting collection of Poems in Prayse of Tobacco
from many sources, not omitting the repertory of Mr. Punch, By
the way, in some lines, quoted from Punch of April, 1882 on a col-
lection of “ Pipes of all Peoples,” made by “one Bragge,” the bard
sings:—
“ Here are queer pipes from Burmah and from Java,
From Turkey, Russia, and from far Japan;
Some made of wood, of ivory, of lava ;
Some that belonged to pre-historic Man.
From Mexico come pipes of terra-cotta,
That hapless Maximilian kept awhile,
And, ’mid the whole collection, there is not a
Pipe that's more strange than this from near the Nile."
Can the latter perchance have come from the collection of Cleopatra
herself ? At any rate, its existence seems rather to favour the theory,
or dream, of Mr. Percival. The Baron’s faithful Co., improvising
for the occasion, says :—
“ It may be, as Percival fancies, that Lotus
"Was puffed from the lips of the great Coptic Queen ;
Or that we of the West were the first to devote us
To Manitu’s merciful gift, Nicotine.
But whether ’twas bom in ‘ the Land of the Dragon,’
Or nursed by the Nile till our season was ripe,
As accompaniment to rest, talk, or a flagon,
There’s nothing in Nature so good as—a Pipe.”
There! Let Messrs. Percival and Hamilton put that in their
respective pipes and smoke it.
It is, as Sir Walter Scott and Charles Dickens discovered, a
more difficult thing to write up to children than down to men and
women. Miss Mudholland has discovered the secret in her narrative
of The Strange Adventures of Little Snoivdrop. (R. Washbotjrne.)
It is a tale about children for children, an a. Little Snoivdrop and
her companions really talk as children do; which is not only greatly
to their credit, but to that of Miss Mdlholland. A nice, whole-
some, pretty, graphic story.
Our Celebrities this month in the Walery-Gallery are appropriately
the Shah, an excellent likeness, in company with the Comte de Paris
and the Duke of Fife, whose appearance is exactly the same as when
his Lordship was Earl of that ilk.
The Baron De Book-Worms & Co.
CHORDS OF THE ANTI-FRANCHISE-TO-WOMEN LADIES.
We don’t want to vote, hut by Jingo when we do,
We send the men, we have the tongues, and use the money too !
NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will
in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule
there will be no exception.