Punch (98.1890)

January 25, 1890.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI_ 37

UNTILED; OR, THE MODERN ASMODEUS.

" Tres volontiers," repartit le demon. " Yous aimez les tableaux changeans: je veux vous contenter."

Le Diable Boiteux.

XVII.

"'The ' Humours of the

Town!' Archaic phrase,
Breathing of Beuiuhel and

the dandy days
Of curly hats and gaiters!
' Humours' seem rarer now,

at least by night,
In this strange world of gilt

and garish light, [ters."
And bibulous wits and wai-

So I. The Shadow smiled.

'' There's food for mirth
In every nook of the sun-
circling earth [trodden.
That human foot hath
Man, the great mime, must

move the Momus vein,
Whether he follow fashion
or the wain,
In ermine or in hodden.

"A City of Strange Meet-
ings ! Motives strong
Why men in well-dressed
multitudes should
throng,
Abundant are and various.
Strongest, perhaps, the vague desire to meet;
No animal as Man so quick to greet,
So aimlessly gregarious.

In Council, Caucus, Causerie, there's an
aim

Which many know and some might even
name;

But see yon motley muster,
Like shades in Eblis wandering up and down!
Types there of every 'Show Class' in the
Town

Elbow and glide and cluster."

I see long rooms, en suite, with lofty walls,
And portieres sombre as Egyptian palls;

I hear the ceaseless scuffle
Of many trim-shod feet; the thin sweet sound
Of Btricken strings which faintly echoes round

Those draperied vistas muffle.

Susurrus of a hundred voices blent
In the bland buzz of cultured chat; intent

Set faces mutely watching
|rom cushioned corner or from curtainednook;

mu at al30ut ears attentive crook,

The latest scandal catching.

pud/vll"'lewi1 countenances, shaven clean,
artt "PS. and eyes alert with strength and
, spleen;

All wrnin?^ vain an<i vapid,
All ^athed^with the conventional bland

That covers weary scorn or watchful guile,
( Shift here in sequence rapid.

t5eS1.eW?»-dressed^ thus mustered
I asked my guide <' On e faoe gneer

* Curls-when it ls not smirking.
Scorn of each other seems the one sole thins-

Midst flowery talk is lurking."

" Friend, mutual mockery, masked as mutual
praise,

Is a great social bond in these strange davs

Rochefoucauld here might gather
Material for new maxims keen and cold.
They meet, these convives, if the truth be told
For boredom and bland blather. '
'Royston's Reception,—ah! yes; beastly
bore!

But must drop in for half an hour, no more.
The usual cram,—one knows it.

Big pudding with a few peculiar " plums."
Everyone kicks, but everybody comes
Don't quite know how he does it!'

"So Snaggs, the slangy cynic. See him there
With pouching shirt-front and disordered
hair,

Talking to Cramp the sturdy,
Irreverent R. A. And he,—that's Joyce,
The shaggy swart Silenus, with a voice

Much like a hurdy-gurdy.

'' You see him everywhere, though none knows
why;

Every hand meets his grip, though every eye

Furtively hints abhorrence.
Society's a gridiron; fools to please,
Wise men must sometimes lie as ill at ease

As might a new St. Lawrence."

A buzz, a bustle! How the crowd makes way,
And parts in lines as on some pageant day!

'Tis the Great Man, none other,
" Bland, beaming, bowing quick to left and
. right; _ [night

One hour he '11 deign to give from his brief

To flattery, fuss and pother.

" Though the whole mob does homage, more
than half

Behind their hands indulge in sorrel chaff,

And venomous invective.
And he, the hard-faced Cleon with his ring
Of minor satellites ? Could glances sting

His were not ineffective!

" Crouched in yon corner, huddled chin to
knees,

Like some old lion sore and ill at ease

Left foodless in the jungle,
Sits Grtjmpeb, growling oaths beneath his
breath

At Cleon, who—to him—sums party-death

And. diplomatic bungle.

" ' Beshrew him for a-! "' " Getjmpee's

speech is strong;
Flanders and screeds of old satiric song

Blend in his vigorous diction.
Around, in lounging groups or knots apart,
Are lesser lights of thought, small stars of art,

And petty chiefs of fiction.

"Hosts of the nameless, fameless, 'Small

Unknown;'
Men who can form a ' corner,' float a loan,
Wire-pull a local Caucus,

But cannot paint poor pictures, write bad
plays,

Or on a platform wildly flame or praise

In rolling tones or raucous.
" These lounge and hover, sip champagne and

whiff .
Mild cigarettes; these too, m secret smft

At' the whole queer caboodle.'
Why do they meet ? How shall I say, good

friend? .
Modern symposiasts seem a curious blend

Of porcupine and poodle.
"In these Saturniandays Amphitryon spreads
His meshes wide, and counts not brains but

The Tadpoles and the Tapers
Are scorned by the few Titans; true; but
aims

Differ ; to some 'tis much to see their names
Strung in the morning papers.

"So Private Views are popular, and men
Meet just to prompt the social scribe's smart

Taste too austerely winnows [pen.
Town's superflux of chaff from its scantwheat:
Our host prefers to mix, in his Great Meet,

The Tritons and the minnows ! "
"With mutual scorn!" I cried. "Has

Fashion power
Thus to unhumanise the ' Social Hour,'

Theme of old poets' vaunting ?
Gregarious spites and egotisms harsh !—
Foregathering of frog-swarms in a marsh

Yields music as enchanting."
(To be continued.)

HOLIDAY CATECHISM.

Mr, Punch. Well, Master Jack Hoener,
where have you been this time ?

Master J. H. Polly and I visited Madame
Tussaud's,—they have got Mr. Sala there, look-
ing so amiable! We were pleased to see him!
And Polly afterwards would take me into the
Chamber of Horrors ! But I paid her out by
getting her to try a boat on "Ye Ocean
Wave," as they call it, at Hengler's !

Mr. P. Done anything else ?

Master J. H. To be sure. Looked in at
" Niagara," where they have got a Forest
of Christmas trees. Capital! Popped into
"Waterloo," opposite. Smashed skull in a
trophy of arms amongst the relics—lovely!
The picture, too, not half bad. Then im-
proved our minds at the Tudor Exhibition.

Mr. P. And where else have you been P

Master J. H. To the Crystal Palace, where
they have got Cinderella this year. It's first-
rate !

" Vanity Un-Faie."—A week ago a cari-
cature of one of the most popular and plea-
sant-looking of officials—a scholar and a
gentleman — Mr. Edward Pigoti — the
Examiner of Plays, was published in Vanity
Fair. Unrecognisable as a portrait, the
picture was painfully hideous. Why it
should have been allowed to appear is a
mystery, as Mr. Pigott is a man that either
is, or should be, without an enemy. There is
only one thing to be done—our contemporary
(following a recent precedent preserved in
its own columns) should publish an apology.

"Speed the Pasting."—The last four
weeks of Barnum at Olympia are announced.
If this is a fact, won't there arise a chorus of
general jubilation from Theatrical Managers ?
Rather! _■

" Ana."— Ohiter dicta anent the Parnell
Commission wiU be published in one supple-
mentary volume, entitled, Osheana.

vol. xcvm.