Punch: Punch (101.1891)

252

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. [November 21, 1891.

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

" Diceexsii nihil d me alienum puto," quoth, the Baron,
taking up A Week's Tramp in Dickens-Land. By W. K.
Hughes, F.L.S., with Illustrations by F. G. Iutton, and Others,
published by Messrs. Chapman and Hall. Ahem! The frisky
Kitton, haying several tales to play with (probably some relation to
the Cat-'o-nine-tails, eh ?), has done his work well; and the same
may be said for Others. The work can be recommended as a book
of pictorial reference for Dickensian students, but otherwise it is—
ahem—superfluous. If this kind of trading on the name of Dickens
continues, we shall probably become HuGHEs'd to seeing such
announcements as, " Shortly to appear,—The Collected Bills of the
Butcher and JBakcr of Charles Dickens; Upper Storeys of Houses
in whose Neighbourhood Charles Dickeyis resided; Some Trades-
men's Accounts, Receipted and Returned icith Thanks, Auto-
graphically, to Charles Dickens, &c, &c.

A sad story, picturesquely commenced, and powerfully ended, is
Rudyaed Kipling's The Light that'Failed. But, between these

two extremes, the conversations have
^ si ///, the deadly fault of being wearisome,

^vL^ '/// anc^' as t° the manner of their conver-
^\l^5\v- satlon, were the Baron compelled to

^\ ^ \\ /y listen to much of it, life would indeed
-—~ V^xX^vvr ^e "worth living. The women-kind

~_ ' :llpl)ill^v ^n ^ are detestable; there is none
~ of them that doeth good in the novel,

'■ B^.' no, no1 one. It becomes gradually
\\^§§ii } gloomier and gloomier, and, indeed, it is

. ^11 styled The Light that Failed. Since

- JilllllP'^fir Datjdet's Jack, the Baron calls to mind

Cy «=— no D0°k more pitiful, no characters more
~^^^ZT^^yyv\^^^^ heartless, and no sadder ending. Clever,
^*S8SillffS^ of course; artistic, equally so; but—well,
The Light that Failed; or, {>\ Bar°n's '^ce to his enemies is Go
a Thief in the Candle. m heavily for Christmas festivities, have

an orgy of plum - pudding, creams,
sweets, and mince-pies, and, on the day after Boxing Day, stay in-
doors, and read The Light that Failed.

In the Baron's office there are several departments, where Sam
the Skipper for novels, Child Haeold for children's books, and
Petee the Salt for tales of the sea are specially busy at Christmas
time. To quote the ancient song of the " Mistletoe Bough " :—
" The Baron's retainers were Blythe and Gay ; "

and so are they now, as the Ladies Belinda Bltthe and Griselda
Gat undertake a considerable proportion of such seasonable review-
ing as is more or less expected from the Baeon de Book-Worms
about this season of the year. But the Baron reviews the reviewers,
and presents the public with only the pick of the basket. Now, once
for all, the Baron gives notice hereby and herewith nevertheless and
all to the contrary notwithstanding, that neither he nor his retainers
will take notice of Christmas puzzles, such as, for example, the
bilious-looking "Spots Puzzle," which ought to be dedicated to
Little Red Riding Hood, as it is brought out by "Wolf." The
Baron cannot listen to "the cry of Wolf." Let that be understood.
Now, in the way of Books, what is there for Christmas fare ? There is

Blackie and Son introducing themselves to the Baron de Book-Worms.

friend Blackie, who doesn't keep himself dark, but comes out with
Henty in Plenty, whose Dash for Khartoum will be appreciated
even by those who don't ordinarily care a dash for anything. Ask for
Henty, and see that you get him. Mr. Manville Fenn ought long

ago to have changed his name to Botvllle Fenn, as he is so as-
sociated with Books for Boys, and his Brownsmith's Boy is more
boyant than eyer. "A capital book" says the Baron's chief
adviser. Find out The Rover's Secret, by Haeet Collingwood ;
it is worth knowing, and make friends with Annie Armstrong's
Three Bright Girk.

Angling Sketches, by Andrew Lang—Andrew L'Angler—are
delightful reading. The Baron pictures to himself the thoughtful
and Balfour-like Andrew on a bank by the river, rod stuck into
ground, pencil and note-book in his hand. " What is he doing, my
boy ? " inquires the Baron, of the hook-baiting boy. " He's ketch-
ing sumthmk," whispers the urchin. Is it Historical Notes on the
Diet of Wurms ? Is it necessary to show that the fish have no
consciousness of Pain ? Or, is he composing Lines to my Rod ? Or
is it a disquisition on " ingratitude," showing how the stream goes on
murmuring ? And does he classically remind it how silent it ought
to be.—Dumb defluit annis ? Or does the stream murmur because
our Andrew the Fisherman has been "whipping" it? Should
he betake himself to fly-fishing, let his motto be "Strike and
spare not' " and if he would be wise above his fellows in the gentle
art of catching fish, let him consult The Incomplete Angler, says,
disinterestedly, The Baeon de Book-Worms.

MEMS EBOM MONKEY-LAND.

{Being a Report made to the "Royal Simian Society " by Professor Hairy
My as, F.R.S.S.,with compliments to Professor Gamier,who continues
his articles on " a Simian Language" in "The New Review" for
this month.)

I have for some time past paid considerable attention to the sounds
uttered by the Human Beings who are permitted to observe our
movements, in the wire house which the Proprietor of these gardens
has so obligingly placed at our disposal, rent free. My object has
been to discover whether the Human Species, though belonging to a
rather low form of animal life, can be said to have anything corre-
sponding to the language which is the recognised means of com-
municating between Apes.

I have been much assisted in my investigations by the kind help
afforded me by the great Anubis Baboon, who has frequently
abandoned the consumption
of nuts to come and make
experiments on our human
visitors; the elder members
of the Chimpanzee Family
have also been most useful,
and have often restrained
the young of their house-
hold from interrupting my
inquiries by ill - timed
pleasantries. Only once in
the whole course of these
scientific labours have I had
seriously to complain of my
tail being made use of as a
swing.

It was not long before I
came to the conclusion that
men do really mean some-
thing by the extraordinary
gibberings and chatterings
in which they indulge. My
first experiment was on a female of the species, with a blue feather
in her bonnet. At a sign from me, a young Chimpanzee suddenly
and adroitly snatched the bonnet from her head. The sound she
uttered was, as nearly as I can put it, wh-oo-w ! ending m a shrill
scream. I therefore take the oo sound to indicate alarm, or dissatis-
faction. Exactly the same vowels were used by the Male. _

The mischievous young of the Human Species, we have discovered,
also have this oo sound, and use it when they wish to frighten us.

The three conclusions which 1 have drawn from my inquiries are :—

1. That Human Beings understand the sounds they utter to each
other, and therefore possess a language, as we do.

2. That Human Beings have, in a very imperfect and rudimentary
shape, the faculty of reason.

3. That Apes' have descended from Men! In other words, that
a Monkey is only a highly-developed and more agile Man.

These, no doubt, are startling conclusions, and I expect them to
excite controversy. In fact, an Ourang-Outang friend of mine, to
whom I mentioned them, was so shocked, that he has declined all
nourishment ever since. But I rely on the scientific spirit of this
great society to do me justice ; and 1 venture to add a request that
it will see fit to endow research by voting an extra supply of apples
and nuts to the Chimpanzees, the Anubis Baboon, and myself,
while we are at work on this very fatigiung field of inquiry.

{£j=> NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, wiii
in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by a Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To tbia rule
there will be no exception.