Punch (99.1890)

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

233

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

Read The World and the Will, by Jambs Payn, says the Baron.
Successful novelist is our "J. P." for England and the Colonies
generally. " The profits blazoned on the Payn," is a line he quotes,

with a slight difference of spell-
ing, in his present three volumes,
which is full of good things ; his
own " asides " being, to my think-
ing, quoth the Baron, by far the
most enjoyable part of his books.
Herein he resembles Thackeray,
who used to delight in taking the
reader behind the scenes, and
exhibiting the wires. Not so
James Payn. He comes in front,
and comments upon the actions of
his puppets, or upon men and
morals in general, or he makes a
quip, or utters a quirk, or pro-
| poses a quiddity, and pauses to
S: laugh with you, before he resumes
the story, and says, with the older
romancers, "But to our tale."
Most companionable writer is James Payn. Tells his story so
clearly. A Payn to be seen through.

In the christening of his Christmas books, Mr. Mebby Andbew
Lang has hit upon a genuine Happy Thought, on which the Baron
begs sincerely to congratulate him. It is a perfect little gold mine as
a book-title series. Last year M. Andbew Lang wrote, and Lang-
man's—no, beg pardon—Longmans published The Blue Fairy
Booh. The Blue Fairy Book, when it appeared, however, was read
everywhere, so this year the Mebby Andrew issues The Med Fairy
Book, which, of course, will be more read than the other. Excellent
notion! Where will it stop ? Why should it stop ? Next year
there'll be The Green Fairy Book; in'92 the Yellow Fairy Book
(commencing with new version of Yellow Dwarf), then the White,
then the Black, then the Ver-millionth edition, and so on and so on, ad
infinitum, through all the possible stages of the combination and
permutation of colour.

The Magazine of Art for 1890, published by Cassell & Co., is
one of the best of its kind for pictures and Art-articles. The Mixture
as before.

"Christmas is coming"—but the Publishers seem to think that
the Merry Old Gentleman will be here to-morrow. Yet we know
the proverbial history of to-morrow. However, to humour the up-
to-date notion, the Baron recommends to his young friends who
wish to amuse their elders, Dolldom, a dolls' opera, by Clifton
Bingham, set to music by Flobian Pascal. Some of the songs are
exquisite. It would make a very funny play, children imitating
dolls. Published by J. Williams.

Blackie and Son, are going it. Here are two more, by their
indefatigable writer, G. A. Henty : By Bight of Conquest; or,
With C'ortez in Mexico, The young Sixteenth-Century boy, by
his marvellous adventures, proves his right to be a hero in the Con-
quest of Mexico. Of a more modern date is A Chapter of Accidents,
which deals with the Bombardment of Alexandria. The young
fisher-lad has to go through many chapters of adventure before he
reaches a happy ending. A Bough Shaking, by Geoege Macdonald,
is a capital boys' book, while The Light Princess, and other Fairy
Stories, by the same author, will please the Baron's old-fashioned
fairy-book readers at Christmas-time.

Whoever possesses the Henry Irving Shakspeare,sta.rte& origi-
nally by my dear old enthusiastic friend the late Fbank Maeshall,
and now concluded by the new volume of plays, poems, and sonnets,
—possesses a literary treasure. The notes are varied, interesting,
and all valuable. The_ illustrations exactly serve their purpose,
which is the highest praise.

Me. Smalley's Letters are not to an Inconnue. They were
written to his paper, the Tribune, and have redressed the balance
between the Old World and the New by furnishing New York from
week to week with brilliant, incisive, and faithful pictures of life
in London. The initials, " G. W. S.," appended in their original
form, are as familiar throughout the United States as are those of
our own " G. A. S." in the still United Kingdom. Mr. Smalley
goes everywhere, sees everything, knows everybody, and his
readers in New York learn a great deal more of what is going
on in London than some of us who live here. Most public men of
the present day, whether in politics, literature, or art, have, all
unconsciously, sat to " G. W. S." He has a wonderful gift of
seizing the salient points of a character, and reproducing them in
a few pellucid sentences. The men he treats of have many friends
who will be delighted to find that Mr. Smalley's pen is dipped in
just enough gall to make the writing pleasant to those who are
not its topic. Personalities is the alluring title of the first

volume, which contains forty-two studies of character. It is
dangerous kind of work; but Mr. Smalley has skilfully steered
his passage. Written for a newspaper, London Letters (Macmlllan
& Co.) rank higher than journalism. They will take their place in
Literature.

November Number of the English Illustrated Magazine, excellent.
Wykehamists, please note Mr. Gale's article, and Lord Selbobne's
introduction. The Cooke who presides in this particular kitchen
serves up a capital dish every month—and "quite English, you
know."

My faithful "Co." has been rather startled by a volume called
The Decline and Fall of the British Empire, written by " Anony-
mous," and published by the Messrs. Teischlee. The tome deals
with Australia, rather than England, and is dated a thousand years
hence ; so those who have no immediate leisure will have plenty of
time to read it before the events therein recorded, so to speak, reach
maturity.

I notice an advertisement of a book by Major Ellis, entitled The
Ewe-speaking People of the Slave Coast of West Africa. These
Ewe-speaking folk must be a sheepish lot. Black-sheepish lot
apparently, as being in West Africa. Major Ellis is the author
also of The Tshi-speaking People. These last must be either
timidly bashful, or else a very T-shi lot. After this, there's nothing
Ellis this week, says The Baron de Book-Woems.

" QUITE A LITTLE (EOMAN) HOLIDAY."

(An Intercepted Letter.)
Dearest Becky,—I have had such luck! Oh, so fortunate ! Fancy,
we did get in, after all! You know Mr. Tenteeeoee, of Somerset House,
has a friend a barrister, and this friend said, if we would be by the
door of the Court at eleven, he thought he could
slip us in. And he did, my dear—he did! We
got capital places, and as we had brought with
us some sherry and sandwiches, we had " a real
good time of it," as your brother calls it! We
had our work, too, and so were quite comfortable.
The night-charges were such fun! A lot of men
and women were brought before the Magistrate for
^Ss-being "drunk and incapable" (that's a legal
term, my dear), and got so chaffed ! One of the

6£......u,,,,^ women was very old—such a silly frump I —she

was still dreadfully intoxicated I am afraid!
Very sad, of course, but we couldn't help laugh-
ing ! She was such a figure before they got rid
of her 1 But this was only the overture to the
drama. After the night-charges were over, the
Court was cleared, but we were allowed to re-
main, as Mr. Wiginblock (our barrister friend)
declared we belonged to the Press! He said
that Maey contributed to the Blood and Thunder
Neuis,_ and I to the Murder Gazette! I am sure it must have
been in fun, for we have never seen the papers. When lunch
was over, in came the Magistrate with a number of the
"smartest'" people! Really, I was quite delighted to be in such
good company. All sorts of nice people. And then— oh— it wns lovely .'
We saw her quite close, and could watch the colour come and go in
her cheeks ! She is rather pretty ! She was wearing her ordinary
clothes; not the workhouse, nor the ones with the blood on them, but
some that had been sent in to her since the inquest. I tried your
opera-glasses. They are simply capital, darling! We were much
amused with his evidence ; and it was really excellent fun to listen
to the howls of the crowd outside ! But I am not sure he cared for
them! We got away in excellent time, and I hope to go again. I a a
trying very hard (should it come to anything) to be present at the
last scene of all! Wouldn't that be lovely"? I should have to be
at the place, though, at ten minutes to eight o'clock ! I don't think I
should go to bed that night at all! If I did, I am sure I should not
sleep ! It would be so very, very interesting! And now, my dearest,
good-bye. Your ever most affectionate friend, Lucretia.

"Mine Ease ai My Club."—In Its most useful and instructive
theatrical column last Sunday's Observer (the only Observer of a
Sunday in London!) inserted this notice :—

" Mr. H. A. Jones is to read a paper at the Playgoers' Club, Henrietta
Street, Tuesday next."

Why announce it P Why not let the hard-worked Hrnby Atjthoe
J ones read his paper at his Club in peace and quietness ? Very hard
on poor Henry Dramatic Atjthoe Jones, if he can't have a few
minutes of peace (not " piece," bien entendu) to himself. Leave him
alone to take his ease at his Club.

Unsatiseactoey foe Law-abiding Citizens.—At a recent meeting
of Anarchists at New Jersey some were arrested, but Most escaped.