Punch (100.1891)

June 20, 1891.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

289

ON THE RIVER.

A light canoe, a box of cigarettes,

Sunshine and shade;
A conscience free from love or money debts

To man or maid ;

A book of verses,
tender, quaint,
ffj or gay,

V •'i5 Dobson or Lang ;
M , .'V Trim yew-girt gar-
■ •■ . . dens, echoing

the day
Wben Hebbice
sang;

J

in and says I want exercise. Take a bolus
and am walked for half an hour or so up and
down some back-streets. Bless them!—that
ain't no good.

Thursday.—Puffiness : worse, of course.
Bother it all, being shut up here ! What
wouldn't I give just for a sight of dear old
Piccadilly ! The fact is, if they don't soon let
me have my run from King's Cross to Putney, I
shall '' bust up "—and that's a fact. I feel it.

Friday.—Ah, they may well come to terms !
Another day of this, and I believe I should
have been off the hooks " for ever and for
aye." It's all very well for Capital and
Labour to get at loggerheads, but, as D pcbow
said, they must cut all their disputes short if
they wish to save anything of their business,
and look sharp, and " come to the 'esses."

Saturday, 13th.—Strike over! "We shall
have to be in harness again on Monday, and
not a day too soon, in the interests of the men,
the Directors, the Public ; and, last, but by no
means least, specially that of " the 'osses.",

A Thames-side Inn, a salad, and some fruit,
Beaune or flochheimer;—

Are simple joys, but admirably suit
An idle rhymer.

A 'BUS 'OSS'S MEMS.

{Kept during a recent Social Crisis.)

Saturday, June 6, 11 p.m.—Home after our
last turn. Fancy from several drinks had on
the way, and the pace we had to put into
that last mile and a half, that something's
up. Turned into stall nice and comfortable,
as usual.

Sunday. — Something is up with a ven-
geance. Hoorooh ! We 're on strike. I don't
know the rights of it, nor don't care, as long
as I have my bit of straw to roll in, and a
good feed twice a day. I wonder, by the
way, if the fellow who looks after my oats is
"off." Past feeding time. Feel uneasy
about it. Hang it all, I would rather work
for my living, than be tied up here doing
nothing without a feed! Ha! here he is,
thank goodness, at last. However, better
late than never. Capital fun this strike.

Monday.—Am sent out in a loyal omnibus.
Hooted at and frightened with brickbats.
Felt half inclined to shy. Halloa ! what's
this ? Hit on the ribs with a paving-stone.
Come, I won't stand this. Kick and back
the 'bus on to the pavement. All the windows
smashed by Company's men. Passengers get
out. Somebody cuts the traces, and I allow
myself to be led back to the stables. Don't
care about this sort of fun. However, feed
all right.

Tuesday.—Hear that the men want thir-
teen and sixpence a day and a seven hours'
turn. Directors offer five and sixpence, and
make the minimum seventeen hours. Go it,
my hearties! Fight away I Who cares ?
Ton must feed me, that's quite certain.
Still I don't care about being cooped up here
all day. Nasty feeling of puffiness about the
knees. Hang the strike !

Wednesday.—Puffiness worse. Vet. looks

IN MEMORIAM.

"OLD TO-MORROW."

The Right Hon. Sie John Alkxandeb
Macdonaed, late Premier of Canada.

Punch sympathises with Canadian sorrow
For him known lovingly as "Old To-
morrow." [day,
Hail to "the Chieftain ! " He lies mute to-
But Fame still speaks for him, and shall for
aye. [speare sighs.

"To - morrow — and _ to - morrow ! " Shak-
So runs the round of time ! Man lives and dies.
But death comes not with mere surcease of
breath

To such as him. " The road to dusty death "
Not " all his yesterdays " have lighted. Nay !
Canada's " Old To-Morrow" lives to-day
In unforgetting hearts, and nothing fears
The long to-morrow of the coming years.

LEAVES FROM A CANDIDATE'S DIARY.

Billsbury, Wednesday, May 2§th.—Great
doings here to-day. For weeks past all the
Conservative Ladies of Billsbury have been
hard at work, knitting, sewing, painting, em-
broidering, patching, quilting, crocheting,
and Heaven knows what besides, for the
Bazaar in aid of the Conservative Young
Men's Club and Coffee-Room Sustentation
Fund. You couldn't call at any house in
Billsbury without being nearly smothered in
heaps of fancy-work of every kind. When
I was at the Penfolds' on Monday after-
noon, the drawing-room was simply littered
with bonnets and hats, none of them much
larger than a crown piece, which Miss Pen-
fold had been constructing. She tried several
of them on, in order to get my opinion as
to their merits. She looked very pretty in
one of them, a cunning arrangement of forget-
me-rots and tiny scraps of pink ribbon.
Moli.er promised some time ago to open the
Bazaar, though she assured me she had never
done such a thing before, and added that I
must be sure to see that the doors moved
easily, as new doors were so apt to stick, and
she didn't know what she should do if she
had to struggle over the opening. I com-
forted her by telling her she would only have
to say a few brief words on a platform, de-
claring the Bazaar open. For the last week
I have had a letter from her by absolutely
every post, sending draft speeches for my
approval. After much consideration I selected
one of these, which I returned to her. I heard
from home that she was very busily occupied
for some time in learning it by heart. When
cook came for orders in the morning, she was

forced to listen while Mother said over the
speech to her. Cook was good enough to
express a high opinion of its beauties.

Yesterday evening Mother arrived, with the
usual enormous amount of luggage, including
the inevitable Carlo. After dinner I heard
her repeat the speech, which went off very
well. This is it:—" Ladies and Gentlemen, I
am so pleased to be here to-day, and to have
the opportunity of helping the dear Conserva-
tive cause in Billsbury. I am sure you are all
so anxious to buy asmany of these lovely things
as you can, and I therefore lose no time in
declaring the Bazaar open." Simple, but
efficient.

The opening to-day was fixed for 2 30? the
Bazaar being held in the large room of the
Assembly Rooms, which had been arranged
to represent an Old English Village. At one
o'clock Colonel and Mrs. Choeele, Alderman
and Mrs. Tolland, and one or two others,
lunched with us, and afterwards we all drove
off together in a procession of carriages. I
insisted on Carlo being left behind, locked up
in Mother's bed-room, with a dish of bones
to comfort him, and an old dress of Mother's
to lie on. That old dress has been devoted to
Carlo for the last two years, and no amount
of persuasion will induce Carlo to take
another instead. We tried him with a much
better one a short time ago, but he was
furious, tore it to ribbons and refused his food
until his old disreputable dress had been
restored to him.

The Bazaar proceedings began with a short
prayer delivered by the Bishop of British
Guiana, an old Billsbury Grammar-School
boy, who was appointed to the bishopric a
month ago. Everybody is making a tremen-
dous fuss about him here of course. As soon
as the prayer was over, Colonel Choeele rose
and made what he would call one of his
" 'appiest hefforts." The influence of lovely
woman, Conservative principles, devotion to
the Throne, the interests of the Conservative
Young Men's Sustentation Fund, all mixed
up together like a hasty pudding. Then
came the moment for Mother. First, how-
ever, Wilxlamina Henrietta Smith Chor-
ele had to be removed outside for causing
a disturbance. Her father's speech so deeply
affected this intelligent infant, who had come
under the protection of her nurse, that she
burst out into a loud yell and refused to be
comforted. The Colonel's face was a study—
a mixture of drum-head Courts-martial and
Gatling guns. Mother got through with her
little speech all right. As a matter of fact
she read it straight off a sheet of paper, having
finally decided that her memory was too
treacherous. We both set to work and bought
an incredible amount of things. After half
an hour I found myself in possession of six
bonnets made by Miss Penfold, three knitted
waistcoats, four hand-painted screens, two
tea-tables also hand-painted, a lady's work-
basket, three fancy shawls, a set of glass studs
and a double perambulator, which I won in a
raffle. Mother got three dog-collars, a set of
shaving materials (won in a raffle), two writing
cases, five fans, two pictures by a local artist,
four paper-knives, two carved cigar-boxes, a
set of tea things, and five worked table-covers.

When we got back, we found that Carlo
had nearly gnawed his way through the bed-
room door, and was growling horribly at the
boots and the chambermaid through the key-
hole. Charming dog!

Simian Talk,

Professor Garnebs, in the New Review
Tells us that " Apes can talk." That \

nothing new;
Reading much " Simian" literary rot,
One only wishes that our " Apes " could not.

vol. c. co