DOI Heft:
December 5, 1891
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17692#0293
December 5, 1891.]
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
273
ONLY FANCY!
"We understand that Mr. Gladstone has followed, with much
interest, the speeches delivered in the country last week, and was
observed to be visibly affected at the touching spectacle of the
final reconciliation of Lord Salisbury and Mr. Chamberlain
at Birmingham. "They toil not, neither do they spin," he said,
furtively wiping away a tear; "nevertheless, they seem made for
each other's company."
The Right Hon. Gentleman will take his turn next week, and a
report is current
in interested
quarters, that he
has gone into
training under the
personal direction
of Sir "William
Harcourt and
Mr. John Mor-
ley, who assist
to support him
whilst he rehearses
his speech. This
is a fantasy of dis-
ordered imagina-
tion. Mr. G. is in
splendid form,
spoiling for a
tight.
A trustworthy
Correspondent in-
forms us that,
owing to acci-
dental displace-
li A Fantasy of Disordered Imagination." mei£.of nis. notes,
a telling point was
omitted from Lord Salisbury's first speech at Birmingham. It was
intended to come in at the passage where the Premier boldly flouted
apprehension of Ministerial disaster at the General Election. He
had meant to cite Mr. Jaceson's appointment as conclusive proof
that the Government would exist at least up to the year 1900.
" Shaespeare," he should have said, "has written, 'a tanner
will last you nine year,' and of course the duration of the Govern-
ment will be co-incidental with the prolongation of the term of our
Financial Secretary to the Treasury, withdrawn from commercial
pursuits at Leeds."
Herr vox der Blowitzown-Tromp has some interesting remi-
niscences of the lamented Baron Mac Hinery. '1 When he was
appointed Legate at the Court of the Isle of Man," writes the great
historian of our times, " he dined with me in passing through
Nanterre. It was the very day the Marquis De Moulin had been
elected Pompier. The other guests were, His Excellency the Cox
of Celm Tartaby, Prince Allez-vous-en, His Excellency the
Vicuxa of Brazil, the Sandwich Ambassador, the Doge of
Texice, and the Baron Munchausen, who was a kind of amateur
partner of mine, in whom I had much confidence—I always left him
with my day's correspondence ready to be committed to paper. In
the course of the dinner a stupid gargon, handing the ice round,
dropped a small piece down the back of the neck of the Doge of
Venice. With great presence of mind Baron Munchausen seized
the poker (which fortunately happened to be in the tire), and, with
inimitable dexterity, passed the red-hot brand between the Doge's
shirt-collar and his neck, and, deftly touching the piece of ice,
melted it. It was an awkward moment. The canned lobster was
just served, but no one thought of eating it. The Con of Crim
T.artary turning to Baron Mac Hlnery, said,—
" You, my Lord, who are disinterested in this matter, tell us
what you think of it."
"I think," replied the Baron, with admirable sangfroid, "his
Highness the Doge would have felt better if the ice had been
warmer, and the poker cooler."
Everybody laughed. The Doge and Baron Munchausen 'shook
hands, and the dinner ended gaily.
Rymoxd, writing lui-meme with too infrequent pen, makes pathetic
reference to the death of •' one of the largest and best known pur-
veyors of Rhine wine, with whom I have had business relations and
personal intercourse for nearly thirty years." There is, we need
hardly say, no basis for the insinuation thrown out by Hexed that
the business relations referred to were of the commission order
sometimes established between purveyors of Rhine and other wines
and gentlemen who have a wide circle of friends. | Eastbourne
THEORY AND PRACTICE.
Scexe—Interior of a First-class Railway Carriage. Theoretical
Passenger and Practical Passenger discussing the " Unreadi-
ness of England."
Theoretical Passenger [at the conclusion of a long account of the
national shortcomings). Yes, my dear Sir, France has only to
declare war to-morrow, and we are completely ruined ! We cease
to exist as a nation!
Practical Passenger {tvith a smile). But hasn't this been said about
us—by ourselves—for any number of years ?
Theo. Pas. Doubtless, but that does not make it the less true.
Prac. Pas. Possibly ; still, it is encouraging to find that we do
exist in spite of the " temptation to belong to other nations."
Theo. Pas. {annoyed). Ah! you treat the matter with levity ; but I
assure you it is a most serious thing ! How would you like to be
bombarded ?
Prac. Pas. Not at all. The more especially as it would be a great
expense to the enemy.
Theo. Pas. [with dignified resentment). I see you consider the
subject a proper topic for raillery ! It is a verv tine day !
Prac. Pas. {in a conciliatory to?ie). No, no, 1 can assure you I am
deeply interested. But how about our Fleet—surely that should
protect us ?
Theo. Pas. You must be very much behind the age to say so. Our
Fleet is practically valueless. It is perfectly easy to invade us at a
dozen places. If "the French went to Ireland (as they did in the last
century), the conquest of England would be assured. They would
(with the assistance of a friendly peasantry), get their supplies
and make good their footing.
Prac. Pas. But how about our Army?
Theo. Pas. A farce ! An expensive farce. We have no Regulars,
the Militia exists only on paper, and the Volunteers are valueless.
Prac. Pas. Then why not have a Conscription—that would bring
up our Army with a run ?
Theo. Pas. A Conscription ! My dear Sir, the nation wouldn't
think of such a thing ! No, not for a single moment!
Prac. Pas. {after a pause). Well, what is to be done ?
Theo. Pas. {promptly). Nothing, except to write to the papers and
submit to our fate.
Prac. Pas. Is there any objection to the construction of the
Channel Tunnel ?
Theo. Pas. {carelessly). None in the least—but why do you ask ?
Prac. Pas. Because, if in the case of war, the entire French nation
pours into England—as you say it will ?
Theo. Pas. Certainly.
Prac. Pas. The best thing we can do is to utilise the Tunnel,
pour into France, and stay there! It will be only changing sides !
[Conversation interrupted by whistle, and consequent rattle
and darkness.
THE SPHINX AND THE STICK.
A Song wherein is suggested a suitable Subject for an Ibsenite Tragedy.
[Sir James Crichton-Browxe thinks that " the reserve and suppression
of emotional movement which is observed in English people " will probably
result in all the women becoming sphinxes, and all the men sticks.]
" Oh ! do wag your head! " said the Sphinx to the'Stiek.
" I can't," he replied, "or I would, darling, quick !
If you '11 only indulge in a shrug and some winks,
You Tl perhaps set me off," said the Stick to the Sphinx.
"Nay, long 1 inhibition,' " the Sphinx made reply,
" Has imparted rigidity, love, to my eye."
" ' Emotional movement' no longer is mine,"
Sighed the Stick to the Sphinx ; " though I greatly incline
To a dig in your ribs, or a slap on your back
(As a sign of my love), all my muscles are slack.
My poor 'motor-centres' are all out of gear,
And I can't even ' chuck ' your soft chin, sweet, I fear.
I'm sure such a stolid inflexible ' stick' you Tl hate,
But, though I adore you, I cannot gesticulate—" _
" My case is as bad," sighed the Sphinx to the Stick,
"For I cannot 'bridle '—no more than a brick."
Said the Stick to the Sphinx, "Ah, we once knew what love
meant!
But, thanks to the loss of ' emotional movement,'_
We can't give it ' graceful and chastened expression,'
And so it seems slipping fast out of possession.
Heigho ! we had far better die, darling, quick!
Since you are a Sphinx, love, and I'm but a Stick !"
Very Likely—just now.—A place to spend a Quiet Sunday—
PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.
273
ONLY FANCY!
"We understand that Mr. Gladstone has followed, with much
interest, the speeches delivered in the country last week, and was
observed to be visibly affected at the touching spectacle of the
final reconciliation of Lord Salisbury and Mr. Chamberlain
at Birmingham. "They toil not, neither do they spin," he said,
furtively wiping away a tear; "nevertheless, they seem made for
each other's company."
The Right Hon. Gentleman will take his turn next week, and a
report is current
in interested
quarters, that he
has gone into
training under the
personal direction
of Sir "William
Harcourt and
Mr. John Mor-
ley, who assist
to support him
whilst he rehearses
his speech. This
is a fantasy of dis-
ordered imagina-
tion. Mr. G. is in
splendid form,
spoiling for a
tight.
A trustworthy
Correspondent in-
forms us that,
owing to acci-
dental displace-
li A Fantasy of Disordered Imagination." mei£.of nis. notes,
a telling point was
omitted from Lord Salisbury's first speech at Birmingham. It was
intended to come in at the passage where the Premier boldly flouted
apprehension of Ministerial disaster at the General Election. He
had meant to cite Mr. Jaceson's appointment as conclusive proof
that the Government would exist at least up to the year 1900.
" Shaespeare," he should have said, "has written, 'a tanner
will last you nine year,' and of course the duration of the Govern-
ment will be co-incidental with the prolongation of the term of our
Financial Secretary to the Treasury, withdrawn from commercial
pursuits at Leeds."
Herr vox der Blowitzown-Tromp has some interesting remi-
niscences of the lamented Baron Mac Hinery. '1 When he was
appointed Legate at the Court of the Isle of Man," writes the great
historian of our times, " he dined with me in passing through
Nanterre. It was the very day the Marquis De Moulin had been
elected Pompier. The other guests were, His Excellency the Cox
of Celm Tartaby, Prince Allez-vous-en, His Excellency the
Vicuxa of Brazil, the Sandwich Ambassador, the Doge of
Texice, and the Baron Munchausen, who was a kind of amateur
partner of mine, in whom I had much confidence—I always left him
with my day's correspondence ready to be committed to paper. In
the course of the dinner a stupid gargon, handing the ice round,
dropped a small piece down the back of the neck of the Doge of
Venice. With great presence of mind Baron Munchausen seized
the poker (which fortunately happened to be in the tire), and, with
inimitable dexterity, passed the red-hot brand between the Doge's
shirt-collar and his neck, and, deftly touching the piece of ice,
melted it. It was an awkward moment. The canned lobster was
just served, but no one thought of eating it. The Con of Crim
T.artary turning to Baron Mac Hlnery, said,—
" You, my Lord, who are disinterested in this matter, tell us
what you think of it."
"I think," replied the Baron, with admirable sangfroid, "his
Highness the Doge would have felt better if the ice had been
warmer, and the poker cooler."
Everybody laughed. The Doge and Baron Munchausen 'shook
hands, and the dinner ended gaily.
Rymoxd, writing lui-meme with too infrequent pen, makes pathetic
reference to the death of •' one of the largest and best known pur-
veyors of Rhine wine, with whom I have had business relations and
personal intercourse for nearly thirty years." There is, we need
hardly say, no basis for the insinuation thrown out by Hexed that
the business relations referred to were of the commission order
sometimes established between purveyors of Rhine and other wines
and gentlemen who have a wide circle of friends. | Eastbourne
THEORY AND PRACTICE.
Scexe—Interior of a First-class Railway Carriage. Theoretical
Passenger and Practical Passenger discussing the " Unreadi-
ness of England."
Theoretical Passenger [at the conclusion of a long account of the
national shortcomings). Yes, my dear Sir, France has only to
declare war to-morrow, and we are completely ruined ! We cease
to exist as a nation!
Practical Passenger {tvith a smile). But hasn't this been said about
us—by ourselves—for any number of years ?
Theo. Pas. Doubtless, but that does not make it the less true.
Prac. Pas. Possibly ; still, it is encouraging to find that we do
exist in spite of the " temptation to belong to other nations."
Theo. Pas. {annoyed). Ah! you treat the matter with levity ; but I
assure you it is a most serious thing ! How would you like to be
bombarded ?
Prac. Pas. Not at all. The more especially as it would be a great
expense to the enemy.
Theo. Pas. [with dignified resentment). I see you consider the
subject a proper topic for raillery ! It is a verv tine day !
Prac. Pas. {in a conciliatory to?ie). No, no, 1 can assure you I am
deeply interested. But how about our Fleet—surely that should
protect us ?
Theo. Pas. You must be very much behind the age to say so. Our
Fleet is practically valueless. It is perfectly easy to invade us at a
dozen places. If "the French went to Ireland (as they did in the last
century), the conquest of England would be assured. They would
(with the assistance of a friendly peasantry), get their supplies
and make good their footing.
Prac. Pas. But how about our Army?
Theo. Pas. A farce ! An expensive farce. We have no Regulars,
the Militia exists only on paper, and the Volunteers are valueless.
Prac. Pas. Then why not have a Conscription—that would bring
up our Army with a run ?
Theo. Pas. A Conscription ! My dear Sir, the nation wouldn't
think of such a thing ! No, not for a single moment!
Prac. Pas. {after a pause). Well, what is to be done ?
Theo. Pas. {promptly). Nothing, except to write to the papers and
submit to our fate.
Prac. Pas. Is there any objection to the construction of the
Channel Tunnel ?
Theo. Pas. {carelessly). None in the least—but why do you ask ?
Prac. Pas. Because, if in the case of war, the entire French nation
pours into England—as you say it will ?
Theo. Pas. Certainly.
Prac. Pas. The best thing we can do is to utilise the Tunnel,
pour into France, and stay there! It will be only changing sides !
[Conversation interrupted by whistle, and consequent rattle
and darkness.
THE SPHINX AND THE STICK.
A Song wherein is suggested a suitable Subject for an Ibsenite Tragedy.
[Sir James Crichton-Browxe thinks that " the reserve and suppression
of emotional movement which is observed in English people " will probably
result in all the women becoming sphinxes, and all the men sticks.]
" Oh ! do wag your head! " said the Sphinx to the'Stiek.
" I can't," he replied, "or I would, darling, quick !
If you '11 only indulge in a shrug and some winks,
You Tl perhaps set me off," said the Stick to the Sphinx.
"Nay, long 1 inhibition,' " the Sphinx made reply,
" Has imparted rigidity, love, to my eye."
" ' Emotional movement' no longer is mine,"
Sighed the Stick to the Sphinx ; " though I greatly incline
To a dig in your ribs, or a slap on your back
(As a sign of my love), all my muscles are slack.
My poor 'motor-centres' are all out of gear,
And I can't even ' chuck ' your soft chin, sweet, I fear.
I'm sure such a stolid inflexible ' stick' you Tl hate,
But, though I adore you, I cannot gesticulate—" _
" My case is as bad," sighed the Sphinx to the Stick,
"For I cannot 'bridle '—no more than a brick."
Said the Stick to the Sphinx, "Ah, we once knew what love
meant!
But, thanks to the loss of ' emotional movement,'_
We can't give it ' graceful and chastened expression,'
And so it seems slipping fast out of possession.
Heigho ! we had far better die, darling, quick!
Since you are a Sphinx, love, and I'm but a Stick !"
Very Likely—just now.—A place to spend a Quiet Sunday—