Punch (99.1890)

Dboember 6, 1890.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

269

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

Only a Penny! And well worth every halfpenny of it. I am
alluding to the Christmas Number of the Penny Illustrated Paper,
in which appears A Daughter of the People, by John Latey, Junior,
who is Junior than ever in December. Capital Christmas Number,
and will attract
an extraordinary \\" \T£
number of Christ-
mas readers.

The Rosebud
Annual, pub-
lished by James
Clabk & Co., is
quite a bright
posy for our very
little ones.

Turning from novels, it is
a relief to come across so
inviting a little volume as the
Pocket Atlas, and Gazetteer
of Canada, which will be
found of the greatest possible
value to ecoentric Londoners
who purpose visiting the Do-
minion during the coming
Winter.

" Persieos odi," but you
won't agree with Hobace if
you follow this " puer appa-
ratus " of G. Norway, who, in Hussein's Hostage, gives us the
exciting adventures of a Persian boy.

' Twixt School and College, by Gobbon Stables, has nothing to do
with horsey experiences, as suggested by the author's name, but is the
uneventful home-life of a poor Scotch laddie, who triumphs by dint
of pluck.

Nutbrown Roger and I, by J. H. Yoxall, a romance of the
highway, quite in the correct style of disguises and blunderbusses
always so necessary for a tale of this kind.

Disenchantment is the—not altogether—enticing title of "an
everyday story," by F. Mabel Robinson, author of The Plan of
Campaign. It is rather a long tale to tell, for it takes 432 pages in
the unravelling. It ends with a beautiful avowal that "the heart is
no more unchanging than the mind, and that love's not immortal,
but an illusion." As the utterer of this truism is a young married
woman, it would seem that the foundation is laid for a sequel to
Disenchantment that might be appropriately called Divorce.

The Secret of the Old House, by Evelyn Evebett Gbeen, who
evidently can't keep a secret to himself, will be so no longer when
the children have satisfied their curiosity by reading the book.

My faithful " Co." declares that he has been recently hard at work
novel-reading. He has been revelling in an atmosphere of romance.
He has been moved almost to tears by Lady Hazleton's Confession,
by Mrs. Kent Spbndee, which, he says, includes, amongBt many
moving _ passages, some glimpses of Parliamentary life. Friend
Olivia, in one bulky volume, takes the reader back to the days of
Ceomwell, when people said "hath," instead of "has," and "pray
resolve me truly," instead of "don't sell me;" and "Mr. John
Milton" played upon the organ. It has a fine old crusty Puritan
flavour about it, which, however, does not prevent the hero and
heroine, in the last page, reading a letter together, " with smiles,
and little laughs, and sweet asides, and sweeter kisses." Altogether,
a book to read when a library does not contain Walteb Scott,
Alexanbbe Ddmas pere, G. P. R. James, or Haeeison Ainswobth.
Two Masters deals with passages in the life of a young lady who is
described as " a Boarding-school Miss" in Volume I., and " a young
she-fiend" in Volume III. However, it is only right to say, that
the last compliment is paid to her by a gentlemanly murderer, who
takes poison and a cigarette, with a view to escaping a justly-deserved
death on the gallows. Prom this it may be seen, that the novel is at
times slightly sensational. Fearing that his Christmas might be
saddened by this last ghastly incident, were not the impression
oreated by it partially removed by less highly-seasoned fare, my
faithful " Co." has also read Mary Hamilton, a Tale for Girls, My
Schoolfellows, and Bonnie Boy's Soap Bubble. He considers the
first admirably adapted to the comprehension of the readers to whom
it is addressed, only the girls, he says, should be very young girls.
My Schoolfellows he intends reading again when he has reached his
second childhood, when he fancies he will be better pleased with the
humours of " Guzzling Gus" and " Ned Never Mind." In conclu-
sion, he admits that he is a little doubtful about the merits or
demerits of Bonnie Boy's Soap Bubble. He explains, that while he
was reading it he " fell a thinking," and that when he woke up, the
volume was lying on the floor. Since then, he adds, he really has
not had the leisure to pick it up.

The Snake's Pass, by Beam Stokeb, M.A. (Sampson Low), is a
simple love-story, a pure idyl of Ireland, whioh does not seem, after
all, to be so distressful a country to live in. Whiskey punch flows
like milk through the land; the loveliest girls abound, and seem
instinctively to be drawn towards the right man. Also there are
jooled crowns to be found by earnest seekers, with at least one large
packing-case crammed with rare coins. The love-scenes are frequent
and tempting. Beam has an eye to scenery, and can describe it. He
knows the Irish peasant, and reproduces his talk with a fidelity
which almost suggests that he, too, is descended from one of the
early kings, whereas, as everyone knows, he lives in London and
adds grace and dignity to '' the front" of the Lyceum on First Nights
and others. He is perfectly overwhelming in his erudition in
respect of the science of drainage, which, if all stories be true, he
might find opportunity of turning to acoount in the every-day (or,
rather, every-night) world of the theatre. In his novel he utilises
it in the preliminaries of shifting a mighty bog, the last stages
whereof are described in a chapter that, for sustained interest,
reoalls Charles Reabe's account of the breaking of the Sheffield
Reservoir. The novel-reader will do well not to pass by The
Snake's Pass. The Babon be Book-Wobms & Co.

BED VERSUS BLACK.

{Two Views of the same place, by Gentlemen "who Write to the Papers,")

Opinion No. 1.—Monte Carlo I One of the most disgraoeful places
in Europe—a blot upon our civilisation. The gambling is productive
of the greatest possible misery. It is an institution that should be
held up to the execration of mankind. All the riffraff of the globe
are attracted to this hideous spot. The plaoe is like an upas-tree,
under whioh everything noble and good languishes and dies ! The
form of Government is absolutely immoral. It is a soandal that
rates, and taxes, and public improvements should be paid for out of
the private purse of the Director. He could not afford it had he not
made a fortune out of his ill-gotten gains! Anyone who has
watched at the tables knows that the chances are absolutely unfair—
that the Direction must win. Not that this matters much. It is the
general immorality of the place that is so alarming. The place
should be closed at once; and persons who have lost anything, say,
during the last year, should have their money promptly returned to
them. And I say this without any bias, although I did back Red,
and Black came up ten times running!

P.S.—Just won a trifle. Not so sure that my pessimist view may
not be modified.

Opinion No. 2.—Monte Carlo! Without exoeption, the loveliest
spot in Europe. The so-called gambling is the cause of numberless
blessings. It is an institution that should be held up to the admira-
tion of mankind. All the aristocracy of the civilised world flock to
it to indulge in a reoreation to which only the greatly prejudiced
can possibly take exception. The Government is benevolent to the
last degree. In what other country are rates, taxes, and improve-
ments paid for you ? If the Director were not the best of men, how
could this be done ? The play itself is absolutely fair. And, with
a system, and a sufficiency of capital, anyone is able to realise a
large fortune in less than no time. Not that this absolute certainty
should be taken into consideration. It is the general morality of
the place that is so encouraging. The plaoe should never close.
And it would be a graceful thing if those who have laid in a store
for their old age were to return a trifle, to be expended on some
charity. And I say this without any bias, although I have backed
Black ten times successfully.

P.S.—Just lost all I had. Not so sure that my optimist view is
not open to rectification I

BULL AND BULLION.

(fin Gold, after Goldsmith.)

When British Commerce stoops
to folly,
And finds too late that Bonds
betray,

What charm can soothe her me-
lancholy,
And the big rush for bullion
stay?

To save herself from shameful
ruin

(Ask Monsieur Lat/b !) her only
chance

Lies—full revenge for Water-
loo !—in
Big borrowings from generous
France.

Mr. Punch Among the Planets is the title of Mr. Punch's
Christmas Number, vice Almanack superseded. Ask for this, and
" see that you get it "j_

Vox Stellabum.— The New Comet, November 19, Boston, U.S.,
suddenly appeared, and was heard to exclaim, "But, soft! Iam
observed!"