Punch (99.1890)

232

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [November 15, 1890.

might save a few here and there. Or if you were to get a can of
paraffin, and syringe them, it would make the fly sit up. But I
don't know as how it's worth the trouble. Naier will have its
way, and, if the fly wants the honion, who are we that we should
say it nay? I think, Toby, M.P., if I was you, I'd let things
take their swing. It's a terrible thing to go a interfering with
Nater."

But we didn't follow Abpachshad's advice. Having undertaken
to run this garden, we were determined to do it thoroughly; so I
got Sabe: to sweep out the flues of the furnace in the greenhouse,
in the course of which he broke several panes of glass, not expect-
ing, so he explained, to find the handle of his brush so near
the roof. We half filled a sack with soot, and carried it to the
onion-bed. Then we waited for a wet day, usually plentiful enough
in haymaking time, now long deferred. Abpachshad insisted that
we were to make quite sure that rain was coming—then sprinkle the
soot over the unsuspectiong onion. We waited just too long, not
starting till the rain began to fall. Found it exceedingly unpleasant
handling the soot under conditions of moisture. But, as Sabk said,
having put our hands to the [soot-bag, we were not going to turn
back. Nor did we till we had completed the task, Abpachshad
looking on, cheered only by the hope that the heavy rain would
wash the soot off before it could have any effect on the fly. On the
whole, the task proved productive of reward. Either Abpachshad
had been mistaken, and the crop had not been attacked by the fly, or
the soot had done its work. Anyhow, the bed bloomed and
blossomed, and, at the time I left "for Midlothian, was locking
exceedingly well. Then came Saek's telegram, as described in the
last chapter. A ter the fly came the mildew. Close on the heels, or
rather the wings, of the Anthomyia Ceparum, fell the Peronospora
Schleideniana.

" It isn't often'it happens," said Abpachshad, rubbing his hands
gleefully;—" but, when you get one on the top of t'other, you don't
look for much crop in that particular year."

HOW IT'S DONE.

A Sand-hook to Honesty.
!No. V.—Money Lent (One Way Among Many.)

Scene I.—Apartment of innocent but temporarily impecunious
•person.

I. P. discovered reading advertisements and correspondence.

Impecunious Person. Humph! It sounds all right. I have
heard that these Loan-mongers are sometimes scoundrels and sharks.
But this one is

surely genuine. [ j \

There is a manly
frankness, a sort
of considerate and
sympathetic deli-
cacy about him,
that quite appeals
to one. No in-
quiry fees, no
publicity, no de-
lay! Just what
I want. |Has
clients, men of
capital, but not
speculators, who wish to
invest money on sound
security at reasonable
interest. Just so! Note
of hand of any respectable
person sufficient. That's
all right. Advance at a
few hours' notice. Excel-
lent! Let me see, the
address is Fitz-Guelph Mansions, W. That sounds respectable
enough. A penniless shark would hardly live there. By Jove, I '11
write, and make an appointment at his own address, as he suggests.

[ Does so, hopefully.

Scene II.—Fitz- Ouelph Mansions, W., at 11 a.m. Enter Impecunious
Person, hurriedly.
Impecunious Person. Ah ! I'm a little bit late, but here's the
place sure enough, and that's the number. Fine house, too.
Nothing sharkish about this, anyhow.

[Makes for No. 14, consulting his watch. On door-step
encounters another person, also apparently in a hurry, and
also consulting his watch. This person is perhaps a trifle
shabby-genteel in attire, but genially pompous and semi-
military in bearing. He makes as if to go, but stopping
suddenly, stares at I. P., and addresses him,—

Ahem! I—a—beg pardon, I'm sure, but have you by any chance
an appointment for 11 a.m. at this address, with a Mr. Mugsnap ?
I. P. Why—a—yes, as a matter of fact, I have.
Mr. Mugsnap. Quite so. And your name is Soetshell ?
I. P. Well—yes, as a matter of fact, it is.

Mr. Mugsnap {cheerily). Ah! that'sail right. Well met, Mr. SoEI-
shell ! {Produces letter.) This is yours, I fancy. The time was eleven
sharp, and you 're just seven minutes and a quarter behind. I was
just off, for if I gave all my clients seven minutes and a quarter
grace, I should lose about four hours a day, Sir. {Laughs jovially.)
But no matter I Just step this way. {Produces latch-key.) But
no, on second thoughts 1 won't go back. Unlucky, you know!
We '11 step across to the Wine Shades yonder, and talk our business
over together with a glass of sound port, my boy. Best glass of
port in London, Bumpus sells, and as an old Army Man I appreciate it.
[They cross to " The Shades," where Mr. Mugsnap wins upon
his companion by his hearty style, and all difficulties in the
way of " an early advance " are smoothed away in a highly
satisfactory manner. A couple of references, of course,
"just as a matter of form," and a couple of guineas for
visiting them. Not an Inquiry Fee, oh! dear no, merely
"expenses." Some people apply for a loan, and, when
everything is arranged, actually decline to receive it!
Must provide against that, you know. Within three days
at the outside, Mr. Sopishell is assured, that money will
be in his hands without fail. Meanwhile the " couple o'
guineas" leave his hands, and Mr. Mugsnap leaves him,
hopeful, and admiring.
I. P. {strolling homeward). Very pleasant person, Mr. Mtjgsnap.
Quite a pleasure to deal with him. Sharks, indeed! How worthy
people get misrepresented ! By the way, though, there's one ques-
tion I forgot to ask him. I '11 just step back. Don't suppose he has
gone yet.

[Returns to No. 14, Fitz-Guelph Mansions. Knocks, and is
answered by smart and austere-looking Domestic.
I. P. Oh, just tell Mr. Mugsnap I should like just one word more
with him. Won't detain him a moment.

Austere Domestic. Mr. Mugsnap! And who's Mr. Mugsnap, pray?
Don't know any seeh persing.

I. P. Oh yes, he lives here. Met him, by appointment, only an
hour ago. Hasn't he returned ?

_ A. D. {emphatically). I tell you there ain't no Mr. Mctgsnap
lives here at all.

I. P. Oh dear, yes! Stout gentleman—military appearance—
white waistcoat!

A. S. {scornfully). Oh, him! I saw seeh a party'anging about
suspiciously awhile ago, and spoke to the perliceman about him. But
I don't know him, and he don't live here ! [Shuts door sharply.

I. P. {perspiring profusely, as the state of things dawns upon
him!) Phew! I see it all. "A plant." That's why he met me
on the door-step. Of course he doesn't live here at all. Gave a
respectable address, and watched for me outside ! And the sleek-
spoken shark is gone! So are my two guineas!

[Retires a sadder, and a wiser man.

THE MAN OF SCIENCE.

[It has been suggested, with, reference to an amusing article in Blackwood,
on a new religion, that science is equal to it.]

Pbofessob Pbotoplasm sings:—

I'm a mighty man of science, and on that I place reliance,

And I hurl a stern defiance at what other people say :
Learning's torch I fiercely kindle, with my Haeckel, Huxley,
Tyndaxl,

And all preaching is a swindle, that's the motto of to-day.
I'd give the wildest latitude to each agnostic attitude,

And everything's a platitude that springs not from my mind:
I've studied entomology, astronomy, conchology,
And every other 'ology that anyone can find.
I am a man of science, with my bottles on the shelf,
I'm game to make a little world, and govern it myself.

I'm a demon at dissection, and I've always had affection

For a curious collection from both animals and man:
I've a lovely pterodactyle, some old bones a little cracked, I'll

Get some mummies, and in fact I '11 pounce on anything I can.'
I'm full of lore botanical, and chemistry organical,

I oft put in a panic all the neighbours I must own: [phorus:
They smell the fumes and phosphorus from London to the Bos-

Oh, sad would be the loss for us, had I been never known.
I am a man of science, with my bottles on the shelf;
I'm game to make a little world, and govern it myself.

Oub Otheb " William."—Question by the G.O.M. on quitting
the North,—" Stands Scotland where it did ? "