Punch (99.1890)

252

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [November 22, 1890,

A POSER.

Fair Client. " I'm always photographed fkom the same Side, but I

forget which I "

Scotch Photographer (reflectively). " Well, it'll ho be this Side, I'm thinkin'.
Maybe it's t'ither ! "

PAES ABOUT PICTURES.

YES.'quite so. It's a very good excuse! Whenever I
do not turn up when I am expected, my children say,
" Pa's ahout pictures." It's just the same as a doctor,
when he forgets to keep an appointment, says, "he has
unexpectedly been called out." Yahl I'd call some of
'em out if I had the chance. I took French leave the
other day, and went to the French Gallery, expecting to
see sketches in French chalk, or studies in French grey.
Nothing of the kind! Mr. Wallis will have his little
joke. The main part of the exhibition is essentially
English, and so I found my Parisian accent was entirely
thrown away. If it had only been Scotch, I could have
said something about the " Scots wha hae wi' "Wallis,"
but I didn't have even that chance. Too bad, though,
the show is a good one. " English, you know, quite
English." Lots of good landscapes by Leader, bright,
fresh, breezy. Young painters should " follow their
Leader," and they can't go very far wrong. I would
write a leader on the subject, and introduce something
about the land-scape-goat, only I know it would be cut
out. Being very busy, sent Young Par to see Miss
Chaklotte Robinson's Exhibition of Screens. _ He
behaved badly. Instead of looking at matters in a
serious light, he seemed to look upon the whole affair as
a "screening farce," and began to sing—

Here screens of all kinds you may see,
Designed most ar-tist-ii'c-a-lee,
In exquisite va-ri-e-tee,

By clever Charlotts Robinson !
They '11 screen you from the bitter breeze,
They '11 screen you when you take your teas,
They '11 screen you when you flirt with shes—
'Delightful Charlotte Robinson !
He then folded his arms, and began to sing, "with
my riddle-ol, de riddle-ol, de ri, de 0," danced a hornpipe
all over the plice, broke several valuable pieces of furni-
ture, and was removed in charge of the police. And this
is the boy that was to be a comfort to me in my old age!

Yours parabolically, Old Par..

Hovel praise from the D. T. for the Lord Mayor's
Show, during a pause for lunch:—"It is so quaint, so
bright, so thoroughly un-English." The Lord Mayor's
Show " So TJn-English, you know" I Then, indeed have
we arrived at the end of the ancient al fresco spectacle.

IN A HOLE.

[(Brief Imperial Tragi-Comedy, in Two Acts, in Active Rehearsal.)

[" Well, if it comes to fighting, we should be just in a hole."—A Lines-
man's Opinion of the Neio Rifle, from Conversation in Daily Paper.]

ACT I.

Scene — A Public Place in Time of Peace.

Mrs. Britannia (receiving a highly finished and improved newly
constructed scientific weapon from cautious and circumspect Head of
Department). And so this is the new Magazine Rifle ?

Head of Department (in a tone of quiet and self-satisfied triumph).
It is, Madam.

Mrs. Britannia. And I may take your word for it, that it is a
weapon I can with confidence place in the hands of my soldiers.

Head of Department. You may, Madam. Excellent as has been
all the work turned out by the Department I have the honour to
represent, I think I may fairly claim this as our greatest achieve-
ment. No less than nine firms have been employed in its construc-
tion, and I am proud to say that in one of the principal portions of
its intricate mechanism, fully seven-and-thirty different parts,
united by microscopic screws, are employed in the adjustment. But
allow me to explain. [Does so, giving an elaborate and confusing
aceount of the construction, showing that, without the greatest care,
and strictest attention to a series of minute precautions on the part
of the soldier, the weapon is likely to get suddenly out of order, and
prove worse than useless in action. This, however, he artfully glides
over in his description, minimising all its possible defects, and finally
insisting that no power in Europe has turned out such a handy,
powerful, and serviceable rifle.

Mrs. Britannia. Ah, well, I don't profess to understand the
practical working of the weapon. But I have trusted you implicitly
to provide me with a good one, and this being, as you tell me, what
I want, I herewith place it the hands of my Army. (Presents the
rifle to Tommy Atkins.) _ Here, Atkins, take your rifle, and I hope
you '11 know how to use it.

Tommy Atkins (with a broad grin). Thank 'ee, Ma'am. I hope I
shall, for I shall be in a precious 'ole if I don't.

[Flourish of newspaper articles, general [congratulatory chorus
on all sides, as Act-drop descends.

ACT II.

A Battle-field in time of War. Enter Tommy Atkins with his
rifle. In the interval, since the close of the last Act, he is
supposed to have been thoroughly instructed in its proper use,
and, though on one or two occasions, owing to disregard of some
trifling precaution, he has found it "jam," still, in the leisure of
the practice-field, he has been generally able to get it right again,
and put it, in workable order. He is now hurrying along in all
the excitement of battle, and in face of the enemy, of whom a
batch appear on the horizon in front of him, when the word is
given to "fire."

Tommy Atkins (endeavours to execute the order, but he finds
something "stuck," and his rifle refuses to go off.) Dang it! What's
the matter with the beastly thing ! It's that there bolt that's caught
agin' (thumps it furiously in his excitement and makes matters worse.)
Dang the blooming thing ; I can't make it go. ( Vainly endeavours
to recall some directions, committed in calmer moments, to memory.)
Drop the bolt ? No ! that ain't it. Loose this 'ere pin (tugs fran-
tically at a portion of the mechanism.) 'Ang me if I can make it go!
(Removes a pin which suddenly releases the magazine), well, I've done
it now and no mistake. Might as well send one to fight with a
broomstick. (A shell explodes just behind him) Well, I am in a
'ole and no mistake. [Battle proceeds with results as Act-drop falls.

Old French Saw Re-set.—From The Standard, November 14:—
"The duel between M. De roulade and M. Laguerre occurred yesterday
morning in the neighbim-hood of Charleroi, in Belgium. Four shots were
exchanged without any result. On returning to Charleroi the combatants
and iheir seconds were arrested."
" C'est Laguerre, mais ce n'est pas magnifique."

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