Punch (99.1890)

November 8, 1890.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

219

been "much interested in my novel idea of converting chips of
wood into best cambric pocket-handkerchiefs," and think that it
beats General Booth's notion of making children's toys out of old
sardine-tins hollow. I should rather think it did! Still, have to
confess that I'm not ready at present to " quote them my wholesale
price for best oak-shavings delivered free on rail."

Telegram from—Chamberlain ' Says he sees the new Society's
one of "universal" beneficence, and supposes it includes him!
Quite a mistake! Sends cheque for three pounds, and hopes I '11
" keep a strict account of all sums received, and issue a report and
balance-sheet shortly." Really, very injudicious of me to use word
" universal" ! Ought to have expressly excluded Liberal-Unionists
(so-called), from my plan. That's where General Bowh has
advantage of me. He probably doesn't exclude anybody that wants
to send him money. Perhaps, after all, he knows how to do this sort
of thing better than I do.

"Wire to him, and hand him over the money I've already received,
also ask him to start a " universally beneficent" branch of Salvation
Army. Reoeive reply, accepting my offer, in no time! General adds
that he has a staff appointment in his Amiy waiting for me, and that
he would like my good lady to become a Salvation Lass. Requires con-
sideration and—hem—consultation I

VOCES POPULI.

AT THE PASTEL EXHIBITION.
In the Ante-Room.

A Niece. Just one moment, Auntie, dear; do look and see what

No. 295 is!

Her Aunt (with a Catalogue—and a conscience). Two hundred
and ninety-five! Before we have even seen No. 1 ? No, my dear,
no. Let us take things in their proper order—or not at all. (Per-
ambulates the galleries for some minutes, refraining religiously from
looking at anything but the numbers.) Ah, here it is—Number One!
Now, Ethel, I'm ready to tell you anything you please !

First Matter-of-Fact Person. Ah, here's another of the funny
ones! [7s suddenly seized with depression.

Second M.-of-F. P. Y—yes. (Examines it gloomily.) What's
it all about ?

First M-of-F. P. (blankly). Oh, well, it's a Pastel—I don't
suppose it's meant to be about any thine in particular, you know.

The Conscientious Aunt (before No. 129). " The Sprigged Frock " f
Yes, that must be the one. I suppose those are meant for sprigs —
but I can't make out the pattern. She might have made her hair
a little tidier—such a bush ! and I never do think blue and green
go well together, myself.

\_They come to a portrait of a charming lady in grey, by
Mr. Solomon.

The Niece (with a sense of being on firm ground at last). "Why,
it's Ellen Terry ! See if it isn't, Auntie.

The C. A. (referring to Catalogue).

" The leavea of Memory seemed to
Make a mournful rustliug."
—that's all it says about it.

The Niece (finding a certain vagueness in this as a description).
Oh! But there are no leaves— unless it means the leaves in the book
she's reading. Still I think it must be Ellen Terry ; don't you ?

The C. A. (cautiously). Well, my dear, I always think it's as
well not to be too positive about a portrait till you know who it was
painted from.

[The Matter-of-Fact Persons have arrived at a Pastel repre-
senting several green and yellow ladies seated undraped
around a fountain, with fiddles suspended to the branches
above.

Second M.-of-F. P. "Marigolds," that's called. I don't see
any though. [ With a sense of being imposed upon.

First M.-of-F. P. I think J do—yes, those orange spots in the
green. They're meant for Marigolds, but there aren't very many
of them, are there P And why should they all be sitting on the
grass like that ? Enough to give them their deaths of oold.!

Second M.-of-F. P. I expect they've been bathing.

First M.-of-F. P. They couldn't all bathe in that fountain, and
then what do you make of their bringing out their violins ?

[The other M.-of-F. Person making nothing of it, they pass on.

An Irritable Philistine. Nonsense, Sir, you can't admire them,
don't tell me.' Do you mean to say you ever saw all those blues,
and greens, and yellows, in Nature, Sir ?

His Companion. I mean to say that that is how Nature appears
to an eye trained to see things in a true and not a merely con-
ventional light.

The I. P. Then all I can say is, that if things ever appeared to
me as unconventionally as all that, I should go straight home and
take a couple of liver pills, Sir. I should!

First Frivolous Old Lady. Here's another of them, my dear.

EASY FOR THE JUDGES.

Geoffrey (to rejected Candidate for honours at the Dog Show). "Never
mind, Smut I We'll have a Dog Show that shall be all Cats

except you, and then you 'll have it all your own way ! "

It's no use, we've got to admire it, this is the kind of thing you
and I must be educated up to in our old age !

Second F. 0. L. It makes me feel as if I was on board a yacht,
that's all I know—just look at the perspective in that room, all
slanted up!

First F. O. L. That's your ignorance, my dear, it's quite the
right perspective for a Pastel, it's our rooms that are all wrong—
not these clever joung gentlemen.

[They go about chuckling and poking old ladylike fun at all the
more eccentric Pastels, and continue to enjoy themselves
immensely.

First M.-ot-F. P. (they have come to a Pastel depicting a young
woman seated on the Crescent Moon, nursing an infant). H'm—very
peculiar, I never saw Diana represented with a baby before—did
you ?

Second M.-of-F. P. No—(hopefully)—but perhaps it's intended
for somebody else. But it's not the place I should choose to nurse
an infant in. It doesn't look safe, and it can't be very comfortable.
[They go on into a smaller room, and come upon a sketch of a
small child, with an immense red mouth, and no visible nose,
eyes, or legs.

First M.-of-F. P. " Little Girl in Black "—what a very plain
child, to he sure!

Second M.-of-F. P. What there is of it; but it looks to me as if
the artist had spent so much time over the black that he forgot to put
in the little girl—he's got her mouth, though.

First M.-of-F. P. Well, if it was my child, I should insist upon
having the poor little thing more finished than that—even if I had to
pay extra for it.

[A Superior Person has entered the West Gallery, accompanied
by a Responsive Lady, who has already grasped the fact
that a taste for Pastels is the sure sign of a superior nature.

The JR. L. Isn't that portrait quite wonderful! "Wouldn't you
take it for an oil-painting ? . .

The S. P. One might—without some experience—which is just
where it is so entirely wrong. A Pastsl has no business to imitate
the technique of any other medium.