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May 16, 1891.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 233

LEAVES FROM A CANDIDATE'S DIARY.

[continued.]

Wednesday, April ZQth, "George Hotel" Billsbury. — Spent
yesterday and the day before in chambers at the Temple. No work
as nsnal. Think I shall give it all up, and take entirely to polities.
Yesterday afternoon a Mr. Richardson Gbogbam called on me by

appointment. He
had written me a
long letter stating
that he had im-
portant informa-
tion to communi-
cate to me with
reference to my
candidature at
Billsbury, and de-
sired a short in-
terview in order to
spO^ilfcf*8* "^SSiSaSp— ft' """^--^V _ lay it before me.

_ _,. • r " Said he was " a

Lookmg for a Seat. ^ Billsbury man born

and bred, and naturally interested in everything that concerned
the welfare of the old place, though for family reasons he had
found it best to make the home of his riper manhood in the
Metropolis." I smelt a rat, but thought it best to give him an
interview. He is a tall man, with a dark beard, straight dark
hair, a sallow face and shifty eyes, and was dressed rather
like a dissenting clergyman. He was immensely genial in his
manner, said he had read every word of my eloquent speeches,
and thoroughly agreed with all I had said, though he himself would
never have been able to say it half as well. He then asked me
if I had heard of his "History of the Borough of Billsbury"
in four volumes. I asked him who had published it and when, but
he said he had been made the victim of intrigues, and had not yet
secured a publisher, though there was any amount of money to be
made out of the book. "Would I like to read it in MS., and give him
my candid opinion of it ? Excused myself on the ground of great
pressure of work. He talked like this for about twenty minutes, and
at last cime to what he called the chief purport of his visit. He said
he had in the course of his investigations, been fortunate enough to
acquire important and exclusive knowledge with regard to the early
life of Sir Thomas Chtjbson and his chief supporters in Billsbury.
"If it is published," he continued, "it will absolutely blast the
prospects of Radicalism in Billsbury. I am not a grasping man, but
I must consider my family. Still, Sir, such is my respect and liking
for you, that I am willing to place a sealed packet containing all
theEe stories in your hands on payment of £150 down." I told him
that wasn't my way either of fighting a constituency or of doing
business, whereupon he became more voluble than ever, and I had no
end of a job to get rid of the oily beast. Jekram tells me to-day that
he was once a solicitor's clerk in Billsbury, and had to leave on
account of some missing money. Since then he appears to have lived
a thady life, varied by attempts at blackmail. Faugh !

Came down to Billsbury to-day, to attend the inaugural dinner of
the season of the Billsbury Cricket Club. I am a Yice-President,
and eo is Chubson. The dinner was held in the large room of the
"Blue Posts Hotel." General Bannattne, an old Indian, who is
the President of the Club, was in the chair, having Chubson on his
right, and me on his left. Old Chtjbson, to whom I was intro-
duced, seems not half a bad old fellow, but he can't speak a bit.
The dinner was awful, everything as tough as leather, and the
Cabinet Padding more beastly than any Cabinet Pudding I ever
tasted—which is saying1 a good deal. Chtjbson proposed, "Pros-
perity to the Billsbury C. C." " Politics," he said, f« are like Cricket.
We spend our time in bowling overs." At this point a young Con-
servative, who had drunk too much, Bhouted, " Ah, and you mostly
change sides, too "—an allusion to the fact that Chtjbson is believed
to have started in politics as a Tory. Somebody removed the inter-
rupter, and Chtjbson finished his speeoh all right, but the incident
must have annoyed him. I proposed "The Town and Trade of
Billsbury," and started by saying what pleasure it gave anybody
occupied in politics to take a part in a non-political celebration
like this. " My friend, Sir Thomas Chtjbson," I said, " and I have
not met before, and I congratulate myself, therefore, on having been
introduced to him to-day. We shall do our level best to bowl one
another out, but I know we shall play the game according to the
rules, and in that spirit of fair-play for which Englishmen in
general, and Billsbury cricketers in particular, are celebrated."

This was rather mixed, but it went very well. I think I took the
shine out of Chtjbson. Later on there was a shocking row between
two of the town-councillors, who got to loggerheads over the question
of the Billsbury Waterworks. It was smoothed over, however, after
everybody had shouted " No politics! " for about ten minutes.

Tolland says we must begin to canvas a little soon. Horrible
work, but absolutely necessary.

BOWLS.

(By a Buffer.)

" Unfortunately (at bowls) one had to stoop to conquer : it is that stooping
which (except in politics) plays the deuce with ua after fifty."

James Fayn's Flea for Bowls.

Yes, Patn, you are right—as you commonly are—
The vertebrae creak and the ribs seem to jar,

When a man bends his back—after fifty —
If only to pull off his boots ; he at length
Finds that curve in his spine is a strain on the strength

Of which middle-age must be thrifty.

But Bowls! Yes, my boy, it's a jolly old game,
Though athletic fanatics might vote it too tame,

But sense is not baffled by bogies.
The Emerald Green and the " bowls" and the "jack,"
Are beautiful—but for that bend in the back—

To those the young furies call " fogies."

You have not to " sprint" o'er some acres of grass,
To " slog" or to scamper, to " scrummage " or " pass,"

At the risk of your ribs, or "rheumatics" ;
You have not to treat your opponents like foes,
Or " go for " your rival's shin-bone or his nose,

As do the aforesaid fanatics.

But how pleasant the " green" in the cool of the day,
The tankard of stingo, the yard of white clay,

And the play and the chaff of good fellows !
Although not a betting man howls out the odds,
And no ring of mad backers—like gallery " gods"—

About us insensately bellows.

Yes, Patn, the " crank in," and the "kiss of the Jack,"
All— Bave, as you say, that darned bend in the back—

About the old game is delightful.
"We thank you for " trolling the bowl" once again,
Ah! it were a pleasure to play it with Patn—

(By Jove, though—that loin-twinge was frightful!)

A THEATRICAL PLUNGE; OR, TAKING A HEDDA,

A plunge indeed! but fortunately the swimmers are strong,
and able to save the suicidal Ibsenites. For my part,—that is,
as one of the audience drawn by curiosity,—I should say that were
it not for the excellent acting of all conoerned
in the piece, and especially of Miss Eliza- f
beth Robins as the Hanwellian heroine,
Ibsen's Hedda Gabler would scarcely have
been allowed a second night's existence at
the Yaudeville. Miss Robins is so much
in earnest—as a true artist should be—that
she excites your curiosity to discover what
on earth she is taking all this trouble about;
and thus she compels your attention. That
the result is eminently unsatisfactory is no
fault of hers. The piece itself is stuff and
nonsense; poor stuff and "pernicious non-
sense." It is as if the author had studied A Powerful Cast,
the weakest of the Robertsonian Comedies, and had thought he could
do something like it in a tragic vein.

In the last Act there is a situation reminding us strongly of one
short scene in Caste ; there—&o delicately and touchingly treated by
its author ; here— so repulsively treated by Ibsen. Let it be reduced
to serious burlesque, and let us have it played by Penley as George
Tesman, Akthur Roberts (with a song) as Judge Brack, Weedon
Geossmith as Ejlbert Ldvborg, Miss Lottie Yenne as Mrs. Hedda
Tesman, Mr^. John Wood as Aunt Juliana, and Miss Jessie Bond
(with song and dance) as Mrs. Elvsted. It is announced in the bill
as " Ibsen's Last Play." There's a crumb of comfort in this.

QUEER QUERIES.

Oatmeal Pobbidge.—Would some Scotch housewife kindly en-
lighten me as to the proper mode of preparing the above delicacy ?
I f anoy there must be some mistake about the method I have hitherto
adopted. Is it really necessary to " boil for forty-eight hours, and
then mix with equal quantities of gin, Guinness's Stout, Gum
Arabic, and Epsom Salts ?" I have followed this recipe (given me
by a young friend, who says he has often been in Scotland) faith-
fully, but the result is not wholly satisfactory. I doubt whether
genuine porridge should be of the consistency of a brick-bat, or
taste of hair-oil.—Ujsdatjmed.
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Punch
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Atkinson, John Priestman
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um 1891
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1886 - 1896
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London

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Punch, 100.1891, May 16, 1891, S. 233

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