Punch (103.1892)

10

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

[July 9, 1892.

OTHERWISE ENGAGED !
(A Sentimental Fragment from Henley.)

And so they sat in the boat and
looked into one another's eyes, and
fonnd much to read in them. They
ignored the presence of the house-
boats, and scarcely remembered that
there were such things as launches
propelled by steam or electricity. And
they turned deaf ears to the niggers,
and did not want their fortunes told
by dirty females of a gipsy type.

"This is very pleasant," said
Edwin.

"Isn't it?" replied Angelina;
"and it's such a good place for
seeing all the events."

"Admirable ! " and they talked of
other things ; and the time sped on,
and the dark shadows grew, and still
they talked, and talked, and talked.

At length the lanterns on the river
began to glow, and Henley put on its
best appearance, and broke out vio-
lently into fireworks. It was then
Mrs. Grundy spied them out. She
had been on the look out for scandal all
day long, but could find none. This
seemed a pleasant and promising case.

" So you are here! " she exclaimed.
'' Why, we thought you must have
gone long ago! And what do you
say of the meeting ? "

" A most perfect success," said he.

" And the company P "

" Could not be more charming,"
was her reply.

" And what did you think of the
racing?" Then they looked at one
another and smiled. They spoke
together, and observed :—

" Oh, we did not think of the
racing!"

And Mrs. Grundy was not alto-
gether satisfied.

"SED REVOCARE GRADUM."

Beauty {with cool candour). " Oh yes, indeed, I frequently make Bets ; but I am so unlucky ! "
Sporting Youth {trying to be sympathetic). "Really? But I suppose you never have much on
-that is—I mean-" [Collapse.

Mem. by " One who Married in
Haste."—" Tbereal' Battle of Life'
begins with, a short engagement."

LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS.

Dear Mr. Punch, _ The Look-out, Sheepsdoor, Kent.

My rest at the seaside has done me such a world of good
that I feel more lazy than ever! But I fear I am in danger of a
relapse into excitement, owing to a letter I received a few days ago
from an old military friend of mine, General Election, in which
he asks me to lend my invaluable assistance in "canvassing " for his
nephew, the Hon. Charlie Hullothere, who is standing for
Sheepsdoor.—Ah, how little did I tbink that my reference to
"canvas" shoes in my last letter would be so prophetic! The
General is very gallant, and fully appreciates the usefulness of
women in canvassing; and, in order to be quite " up to date,"
I have ordered in a large supply of gingerbread-nuts and oyster-
shells, which I observe (see daily papers) are distributed as marks
of respect among Candidates and their wives !

Having also heard that a Brass Band is indispensable (the more
brass it is, the better), I have made friendly overtures {musical, of
course) to the Sheepsdoor Purveyors of Brassharmony, with the
flattering result that they now conclude every performance with my
specially composed " Election War Cry"—the refrain of which is
most effective when given by a chorus of trained Constituents !—
HullLo-there! "We respect him!

HullLo-there ! We '11 elect him !

He's the man for us; And we might do wuss !!

In fact, our Candidate is very popular, and is sure to '' romp in an
easy winner"—which is another puzzling racing expression, as,
although I 've seen plenty of horses indulge in a game of romps
before the start (notably, IS Abbe Morin, in the " City"), they seem
to have had more than enough of it before the finish !

I hear from Newmarket, that I missed an extremely pleasant
week's racing—and although my selection for the Stud Produce
Stakes was rather wide of the mark, I fairly hit the bullseye—(what

a painful operation this must be for the bull)—in my one " Song from
the Birdcage,'" which I warbled in the ear of a racing friend whom I
met down here; it was d propos of the July Stakes and ran thus :—

The night was dark when " For Hand Bill" escaped by Chesil Beach !

And hope beat high within his heart, that he the goal might reach !

For " Milford" Haven lies in sight!—one effort and he's there !

But see !—At last—he's caught!—he's passed!—just by the Judge's Chair!

Which really remarkable prophecy was fully borne out by the race,
in fact, so close a description might almost have been written after
the race—a great compliment to my powers of divination!_

Next week takes us to Bibury and Stockbridge, and if this hot
weather continues, the motto of the Club should be, " Dum vivo
Bibere "—or, freely translated—" Half the soda, please ! " The race
to which I propose to give my attention is the Alington Plate, and
as I am nothing if not thorough, you will see that my tip is influenced
by my being at the Seaside ? Yours devotedly, Lady Gay.

Alington Plate Selection.
The storm was raging through the i And pitied any luckless wight
I tossed upon my pillow, [night, I Who tossed upon the ' 'Billow.'"

A Slight Muddle.—"I hear," said Mrs. B,., " that the Cassocks are
performing at the Buffalo Bill place—though not knowing the gentle-
man personally, I would prefer calling him Buffalo William or Wil-
liam Buffellow, which would be a less outlandish name—and I
confess I was astonished, as I always thought that Cassocks were
Clergymen, or had something to do with the Clergy. I suppose I had
connected them with Hassocks, which are always in Church, and
were, I believe, invented by Mr. Hassock, or Squire Hassock, who
made all his money by keeping a gate on the old Brighton Coach Road.
The station is still called Hassock's Gate, in his memory. Her Majesty
had all the Cassocks sent down to her at Windsor. They must have
been quite worn out by the end of the day."