Punch (99.1890)

Auocbt 9, 1890.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 66

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

"Who remembers a certain story called, if I remember aright,
The Wheelbarrow of Bordeaux, that appeared in a Christmas
Number of the Illustrated London News some years ago ? If no
one else does, I do, says the Baron; and that sensational story was

a sensational sell, wherein
[fj/i the agony was piled up to
the "n,k," and just as the
secret was about to be dis-
closed, the only person who
knew it, and was on the
point of revealing it, died.
This is the sort of thing
that Mr. Rudyabd Kipling
has just done in this month's
Lippincott's Magazine. It
is told in a plain, rough and
ready, blunt style, but so
blunt that there's no point in it. And the idea,—that is if the idea
be that the likeness of the assassin remains on the retina of the victim's
eye, and can be reproduced by photography,—is not a novelty.
Perhaps this story in Lippincott comes out of one of Mr. Rudyabd
Kipling's pigeon-holes, and was just chucked in haphazard, because
Editorial Lippincott wanted something with the name of the Kiplino,
"bright and merry," to it. It's not very " bright," and it certainly
isn't " merry."

Mack's Guide to Kent for 1890, useful in many respects, but
not quite up to date. Ihe Baron cannot find any information about
the splendid Golf Grounds, nor the , Goif Club at Sandwich; it
speaks of Sir Moses Montefiobe's place on the Bast Cliff of Ramsgate
as if that benevolent centenarian were still alive; and it retains an
old-fashioned description of Ramsgate as " The favourite resort of
superior London tradesmen"—"which," says the Baron, "is, to my
certain knowledge, very far from being the case." It talks of the
"humours of the sands,"and alludes to what is merely the cheap-
trippers' season, as if this could possibly be the best time for Ramsgate.
The Guide knows nothing, or at least says nothing, of the Winter
attractions; of the excellent pack of harriers; of the delightful climate
from mid-September to January; of the southern aspect; of the pure
air; of the many excursions to Ash, Deal, Sandwich, Iekham, and
so forth; nor can the Baron discover any mention of the Granville
Hotel, nor of the Albion Club, nor of the sport for fishers and
shooters; nor of the Riviera-like mornings in November and in the
early Spring, which are the real attractions of Ramsgate, and make
it one of the finest health-resorts in Winter for all" who love life, and
would see good days." It reminds me," says the Baron, puffing off
his smoke indignantly, " of Mr. Irving and a certain youthful critic,
who, in his presence at supper, had been running down Macbeth, finding
fault with the Lyceum production of it, and ridiculing Shakspeabe
for having written it. When he had quite finished, Henby Ikying,

laying low' in his chair at the table, adjusted his pince-nez, and,
looking straight at the clever young gentleman, asked, in the mildest
possible tone, ' My dear Sir, h ave you ever read Macbeth?' So,"
resumes the Baron, " I am inclined to ask Mr. Black's young man,

Do you knovo Ramsgate f' And of oourBe I mean the Ramsgate
of 1890."

From the specimens of London City that have been sent for inspec-
tion by Messrs. Field & Ttjeb, of the Leadenhall Press, who are bring-
ing it out, the Baron augurs a grand result, artistically and financially.
It is to be published at forty-two shillings, but subscribers will get
it for a guinea, so intending possessors had evidently better become
subscribers. The history of the Great City is to be told by Mr. W.
J. Lofiie, so that it starts with an elevated tone and the loftiest
principles, and the illustrations will be by Mr. Wir. Ltjkeb, a
talented_ draughtsman who, as a Luker-on has seen most of the
games in the City. In consequence of some piratical publisher
having attempted to bring out a work under the same title, intended
to deceive even the elect, Messrs. Field & Ttjeb have seoured
the copyright of the title London City, by the ingenious device of
publishing, for one farthing each, five hundred copies of a miniature
pamphlet bearing this title, and containing the explanation. The
value of these eccentric farthing pamphlets may one day be thou-
sands of pounds. Mem.—Twopence would be well invested in pur-
chasing four of them.

Salads and Sandwiches is an attractive title, specially at this
season. The arrangement of the book is, like the salad, a little
mixed. When, however, the knowing Baron finds that abomination
known as salad dressing, or " salad mixing," which is sold at the
grocer s, reoommended by a writer who professes to teach salad-
making, then he closes the book, and reads no more that day. This
author, who is in his salad days, might bring out a book entitled Sow
to Suck Eggs; or, Letters to my Grandmother. It is a suggestion
worth considering, says

The Babon de Boobt-Wobms.

TO PTRRHA ON THE THAMES.

OPybbha! say what youth in "blazer"
drest,

Woos yon on" pleasant Thames these
summer eves; ■ .

For whom do you put on that dainty
vest,

That sky-blue ribbon and those gigot
sleeves.

" Simplex munditiis," as Hobace wrote, _
And yet, poor lad, he '11 find that he is
rash;

To-morrow yon '11 adorn some other boat,
And smile as kindly on another " mash.'

As for myself—I'm old, and look askance

At flannels and flirtation; not for me
Youth's idiotic rapture at a glance

From maiden eyes : although it comes from thee.

IN THE KNOW.

{By Mr. Punch's Own Prophet.)

I am a modest man, as well as an honest one. Censure cannot
move me by one hair's breadth from the narrow path of rectitude;
praise cannot unduly puff me up. Had I been other than I am, this
last week would have gone fatally'near to ruining that timid and
shrinking diffidence which (I say it without egotism) ^arks me off
from the poisonous, pestilential, hydrocephalus, putty-faced, suet-
brained reptiles who disgrace the profession to which I belong. All
I wish now to do is to point out that lam the only prophet who indi-
cated, without any beating about the bush, that Marvel would win
the Stewards' Cup at Goodwood. My admirers have recognised the
faot, and my private residenoe has been choked by an avalanche of
congratulatory despatches, including two or three from some of the
highest in the land. H. S. H., the Grand Duke of Pfeifentope
says:—" You have me with your writings muoh refreshed. I have
the whole revenues of the Grand Duchy against one thousand
flaschen of lager bier gebetted, and. I have won him on your noble
advice on Marvel. I make you Commander of the Honigthau
Order." I merely cite this to show that my appreoiators are not to
one country confined—I mean, confined to one country.

What did I say last week, in speaking of the Stewards' Cup
horses ? By the well-known gram-
matical figure known as the hyste-
roproteron, I mentioned Marvel
last, intending, of course, as even
a buffalo-headed Bedlamite might
have seen, that he should be first.
And he was first. But to make
assurance doubly sure, and to bring
prophecy down to the intellectual
level of a bat, I added, in speak-
ing of the winner, that he '' would
certainly be a Marvel." I say no
more. As the great Cardinal once
observed to his chief of police, "Je
te verrai souffle d'abord," so I
reply to those who wish me to re-
veal the secret of my success. _ Mr.
J. knows it not, and no single
member of the imbecile, anserous,_
asinine, cow-hocked, spavin-brained, venomous, hugger-mugger
purveyors of puddling balderdash who follow him has the least con-
ception of my glorious system. But I am willing to teaoh, though I
have nothing to learn. For six halfpenny stamps those who desire
to know, shall receive my pamphlet on " Book-making." Every
applicant must send his photograph with his application, not
necessarily for publication, but as a guarantee of good faith.

"Sitb ie Tapis."—It was a carpet that ostensibly parted an
eminent firm of composer, author, and theatrical manager. W. S. G.
didn't want D'Oyly Cabpei—no, beg pardon, should have written
D'Oyly Cabte to have carte blanche. [Pretty name this. Is there
a Blanche Cabte ? If not, " make it so."]—to do whatever he liked
whenever he liked with the decorating and. upholstering of the theatre.
And recently another carpet, not in oonneotion with the above firm,
oreated. a difficulty. What's a thousand-guinea carpet to a man who
likes this sort of thing ? Nothing. Yet as amid curia, we would
have thought that that Tottenham Road carpet might have been kept
out of Court. Wasn't that a Blunder, Maple ?