Punch (100.1891)

40

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [January 24, 1891.

THE GAME OP PEACE.

April— Grand informal meeting of the Crowned Heads of Europe
(with the Czar in the chair) to discuss a scheme of general disarma-
ment, at which the Emperor of Germany creates a profound sensation
by the announcement that, as a hint to his brother Monarchs, he has

himself gone on to the retired list, burnt
his cocked-hat, disbanded the Pomeranian
Grenadiers, and confined Herr Krupp
for ten years in a second-class fortress.

May.—By arrangement, all the great
powers call in the uniforms of all their
troops and present them to the King of
the Belgians, on the understanding that,
as the Emperor of the Cod go, he shall
forthwith transport them to Africa, and
instantly commence the clothing of seven
millions of the naked native population,
June.—One hundred and eighty thou-
sand horses, with military training,
coming suddenly on to the market, four-
in-hand Hansoms at a penny an hour,
become common in all the great European
capitals, and the Derby, for which there
are 1371 entries, is won by a Cossack
pony, trained in Siberia.

July.—The barrels of all the magazine
rifles melted down, and recast, utilised
for the production of type-writers, which,
being produced in large quantities, are
supplied with instruction gratis to all
the children attending the establish-
ments of the London School Board, the
stocks of the rifles being utilised for the
manufacture of billiard-cues, walking-
sticks, and umbrella-handles.
August.—It being resolved to use up all the gunpowder without
delay, a perpetual display of fireworks is inaugurated at "Vienna,
St. Petersburg, Berlin, Paris, and London, the show in the last-
named capital including a gigantic set-piece of the Fifteen Decisive
Battles of the "World, which is given five times successively every
evening at the Crystal Palace for three months, Piccadilly being
illuminated from 6 p.m. to 3 a.m. by the continuous discharge of
coloured rockets.

September.—The last 101-ton gun having been melted down for
the forging of the metal piles for one of the four newly-projected
Channel bridges, a nasty international feeling, fermented by General
Officers who are obliged to sweep crossings and drive four-wheeled
cabs for a livelihood,—and who do not like it,—begins to manifest
itself, and diplomacy intervening irritably only to make matters
worse, several ultimatums are dispatched from some of the Great
Powers to others, but owing to the want of soldiers, the matter is put
into the hands of International Solicitors, who, arranging a
stand-up fight for the President of the French Republic and the
Czar against the Emperors of Germany and Austria, and the King
of Italy, the matter somehow falls through for the moment, and the
public excitement subsides.

October.—General note from all the Great Powers to each other
announcing their secession from the "League of Peace," and declar-
ing their intention of resorting again to " Protective Armament" as
soon as possible. "War declared all round before the end of the month.

VOCES POPULI.

AT THE GUELPH EXHIBITION.
In the Central Hall.

A Thrifty Visitor {on entering). Catalogue? No. What's the use
of a Catalogue ? Miserable thing, the size of a tract, that tells you
nothing you don't know !

Mis Wife {indicating a pile of Catalogues on table), Aren't these
big enough for you ?

The Thr. V. Those ? Why, they 're big enough for the London
Directory! Think I'm going to drag a thing like that about the
place t You don't really want a Catalogue—it's all your fancy!

Mr. Prattler {to Miss Ammerson). Oh, do stop and look at these
sweet golddsh ! Pets! Don't you love them ? Aren't they tame ?

Miss Ammerson. Wouldn't do to have them wild—might jump
out and bite people, you know I

Mr. P. It's too horrid of you to make fun of my poor little
enthusiasms! But really,—couldn't we get something and feed
them ?—Do let's !

Miss A. I daresay you could get ham-sandwiches in'the Restau-
rant—or chocolates.

/tt^T; 7,p\ ht0wi_ ?nkind y°u aTe to me! But I don't care.
{Wilfully.) I shall come here all by myself, and bring biscuits.

Great big ones! Are you determined to take me into that big room
with all the Portraits ? Well, you must tell me who they all are,
then, and which are the Guelphiest ones.

In the Royal Room.

Considerate Niece {to Uncle). They seem mostly Portraits here.
You're sure you don't mind looking at them, Uncle? I know so
many people do object to Portraits.

Uncle {with the air of a Christian Martyr). No, my dear, no ;
/don't mind 'em. Stay here as long as you like. I'll sit down and
look at the people, till you've done.

First Critical Visitor {examining a View of St. James's Park).
I wonder where that was taken. In Scotland, I expect—there's two
Highlanders there, you see.

Second C. V. Shouldn't wonder—lot o' work in that, all those
different colours, and so many dresses. [Admires, thoughtfully.

A Well-read Woman. That's Queen Charlotte, that is.
George the Third's wife, you know—her that was so domestic.

Her Companion. Wasn't that the one that was shut up in the
Tower, or something ?

The W. W. In the Tower ? Lor, my dear, no, I never 'eard of
it. You 're thinking of the Tudors, or some o' that lot, I expect!

Her Cornp. Am I ? I daresay. I never could remember 'Istry.
Why, if you '11 believe me, I always have to stop and think which
of the Georges came first!

More Critical Visitors {before Portraits). He's rather pleasant-
looking, don't you think ? I don't like her face at all. So peculiar.
And what a hideous dress—like a tea-gown without any upper
part—frightful I

A Sceptical V. They all seem to have had such thin lips in those
days. Somehow, I can't bring myself to believe in such very thin
lips—can you, dear?

Her Friend. I always think it's a sign of meanness, myself.

The S. V. No ; but I mean—I can't believe everyone had them
in the eighteenth century.

Her Friend. Oh, I don't know. If it was the fashion!

About the Cases.

Visitor {admiring an embroidered waistcoat of the time of George
the Second—a highly popular exhibit). What lovely work! Why,
it looks as if it was done yesterday !

Her Companion {who is not in the habit of allowing his enthusiasm
to run away with him). Um—yes, it's not bad. But, of course,
they wouldn't send a thing like that here without having it washed
and done up first!

An Old Lady. "Tea-pot used by the Duke of Wellington
during his campaigns." So he drank tea, did he ? Dear me! Do
you know, my dear, I think I must have my old tea-pot engraved.
It will make it so much more interesting some day !

In the South Gallery.

Mr. Prattler {before a Portrait o/Lady Hamilton, by Romney).
There! Isn't she too charming ? I do call her a perfect duck .'

Miss A?nmerson. Yes, you mustn't forget her when you bring
those biscuits.

An Amurrcan Girl. Father, see up there; there's Byron. Did
you erver see such a purrfectly beautiful face ?

Her Father {solemnly). He was a beautiful Man—a beautiful Poet.

The A. G. I know—but the expression, it's real saint-like !

Father {slowly). Well, I guess if he'd had any different kind of
expression, he wouldn't have written the things he did write, and
that's a fact!

A Moralising Old Lady {at Case 0). No. 1260. " Ball of Worsted
wound by William Cowper, the poet, for Mrs. Unwin." No. 1261.
"Netting done by William Cowper, the poet." How very nice, and
what a difference in the habit of literary persons noivadays, my dear!

In the Central Hall.—Mr. Whiterose, a Jacobite fin de siecle,
is seated on a Bench beside a Seedy Stranger.

The S. S. {half to himself). Har, well, there's one comfort, these
'ere Guelphs'11 get notice to quit afore we 're much older !

Mr. Whiterose {surprised). You say so? Then—you too are of
the Young England Party! I am rejoiced to hear it. You cheer
me; it is a sign that the good Cause is advancing.

The S. S. Advancin' ? I believe yer. Why, I know a dozen and
more as are workin' 'art and soul for it!

Mr. W. You do? We are making strides, indeed! Our England
has suffered these usurpers too lonsr.

The S. S. Yer right. But we '11 chuck 'em out afore long, and
it'll be " Over goes the Show" with the lot, eh ?

Mr. W. I had no idea that the—er—intelligent artisan classes
were so heartily with us. We must talk more of this. Come and see
me. Bring your friends—all you can depend upon. Here is my card.

The S. S. {putting the card in the lining of his hat). Right,
Guv'nor; we '11 come. I wish there was more gents like yer, I do!

Mr. W. We are united by a common bond. We both detest—do
we not ?—the Hanoverian interlopers. We are both pledged never
to rest until we have brought back to the throne of our beloved