Punch (101.1891)

September 26, 1891.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 145

THE WAITERS' STRIKE.

(At the Xaval Exhibition.)

The German. Waiter waxeth fat; he grows exceeding proud;
He is a shade more kicksome than can fairly be allowed.
The British Press goes out to dine—the Teuton, they relate,
Throws down his napkin like a gage, and swears he will not wait.

Now there are many
proverbs — some are
good and some are
not—

But the Teuton was mis-
led who cried, '' Strike
while the entree's
hot!"

Like readers with no
book - marks, all the
rebels lost their
place,

And vanished out of
Chelsea in their dress-
suits and disgrace.

And I'm told that there
were murmurings and
curses deep and low
In darksome public-
houses in the road of
Pimlico,

And a general impression that it was not safe to cross
The temper of that caterer, Mr. Mackenzie Ross.

0 "Waiter, German Waiter ! there are many other lands
Where you can take your creaking boots and eke your dirty hands;
And we think you Tl have discovered, ere you reach your next address,
That in England German Waiters aren't the Censors of the Press.

MARLOWE AT CANTERBURY.

" Keep up the Christopher!" a recommendation adapted urbi et orbi
which, quoting Mr. Puff, our Henry when speaking at Canterbury
ought to have given after the unveiling- of Kit Marlowe's statue.
We hope that the unveiling address will not prove unavailing, and
that the necessary funds may soon be forthcoming for the completion
of the work. Eor the present all that has been effected by the
ceremony is to have given the Times and Telegraph opportunities for
interesting leading articles at a very dull season when material is
scarce ; also it has given the author of Tom Cobb and other remarkable
plays a chance of writing to the Thnes ; and finally it has broken in
upon the well-earned holiday of the indefatigable and good-natured
Henry. But there was one question not put by our Henry.
It ought to have arisen out of the record of Marlowe's interment,
but didn't. "The burial register of St. Nicholas, Deptford,"
said the Times of September 16, " contains the entrv, ' Christopher
Marlowe, slain by Francis Archer, June 1, 1593.' " The entry
may be taken as veracious, although made by "a clerk of St.
Nicholas." lMarlowe was a dramatist; was Archer a dramatic
critic ?

TWO WORDS IN SEASON.

(Humbly dedicated to those eminent Controversialists, Lord Grimthorpe

and Mr. Tallack.)

No. I.

A little more grammar, a touch of the file

To smooth the rough edge of his tongue and his style ;

And some friends, who could soften his temper or check it,

Might amend Baron Grimthorpe, who once was called Beckett.

No. II.

Some scorn for the faddists who ask us to hug,

Not with ropes but with pity, the pestilent Thug,

And some sense (of which Fate, it would seem, says he shall lack,'

Of the value of logic would much improve Tallack,

Another Strike Threatened.— The advent of the brother of
the reigning King of SlAM threatens to cause embarrassment in some
English houses/where His Highness might expect to be received.
Jeames has positivelv declined to throw open a door and announce,
"Prince Damrong ! " " Suchlangwidge,"he says, "is unbecoming
and beneath Me—leastways unless it is remembered in the wages."

WHY SHOULD MERIT WAIT?

We have reason to believe that Sir Henry Edwards, whose stone
image adorns a thoroughfare in Weymouth, will not long be left in
sole possession of the honour of having a monument dedicated to him
in his lifetime. In view of an interesting event pending in his
family, it is proposed that a statue shall be erected to Sir Samlel
W ilson, M.P., in the grounds at Hughenden. The project has so far
advanced that the inscription has been drafted, and we are pleased
to be able to quote it:—

To Perpetuate the Memory
of

Sir Samuel Wilson, Kt.,
A good Husband, a kind Father,
A great Sheep-Farmer.
Twice elected to the Legislative Assembly of Yictoria,
He once sat for the borough of Portsmouth.
He built Wilson Hall for Melbourne University,
And bought Hughenden Manor for
Himself.

He introduced Salmon into Australian Waters,
And married his Eldest Son
To the Sixth Daughter of the
Duchess of Marlborough.

Of such is the Colony of Yictoria.

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

" Dear Miss Dollie Radford," writes the Assistant-Reader, " I
trust I am right in the feminine and unconjugal prefix ; but, b?
that as it may, I wish simply to tell you that, at the instigation of a
lettered friend, I have spent a few moments very wisely in reading
your thin little book of verse, A Light Load. (Elkin Mathews.)
I feel now as if I had been gently drifting down a smooth broad
river under the moonlight, when all nature is quiet. I don't quite
know why I feel like that, but I fancy it must be on account of some
serene and peaceful quality in your poems. Here, then, there are
sixty-four little pages of restfulness for those whose minds are
troubled. You don't plunge into the deep of metaphysics and churn
it into a foam, but you perch on your little bough and pipe sweetly of
gorse and heather and wide meadows and brightly-flashing insects ;
you sing softly as when, in your own words—

-gently this evening the ripples break

On the pebbles beneath the trees,
With a music as low as the full leaves make,

"When they stir in some soft sea-breeze.

One of my " Co." says he always reads anything that comes in his
way bearing the trade-mark Blackwood. His faith has been justified
on carrying off with him
on a quiet holiday, His
Cotisin Adair, by Gordon
Roy. The book has all the
requisites of a good novel,
including the perhaps rarest
one of literary style. Cousin
Adair is well worth know-
ing, and her character is
skilfully portrayed. As a
foil against this high -
minded, pure-souled un-
selfish girl, there are
sketched in two or three of
the sort of people, men and A Puff to swell the Sale,

women, more frequently met with in this wicked world. But Cousin
Adair is good enough to leaven the lump. Gordon Roy is evidently
a nom de phone that might belong to man or woman. My " Co." is
inclined to think, from certain subtle touches, that he has been
entertained through three volumes by a lady.

Baron de Book-Worms & Co.

What's in a Title ?

(To the Author of " Violet Moses.")

With a title so lucky (though luck's all my eye),
Your book's sure of readers I '11 wager my head.

For not even a Critic will dare to reply,
When he's asked to review it, " I'11 take it as re(a)d."

From the Latest Colwell-Hatchney Examination Paper in
Foreign Languages for the Cake Scholarship.—Question. What
is the feminine of Beau temps f Answer (immediately given). Belie-
Wether.

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