DOI issue:
July 30, 1892
DOI Page / Citation link: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17694#0047
July 30, 1892.]
41
to blows. The Party then withdrew, giving three cheers
for Mr. Gladstone, but not pledging themselves to vote
for me.
The Eight Hours' people were at me next. I said I
saw that the Bill would provide employment for a number
of people, but I added, that I did not see who was to pay
the wages, nor who was to buy the goods. _ For, I re-
marked, you certainly cannot compete with foreign
countries at this rate, and at home the Classes will be
competing with you, being obliged to have recourse to
manual labour. They said that was just what they
wanted, everybody to labour with his hands. I answered
that many of the Classes, a poor lot at best (cheers),
would come on the Parish. Who was to pay the rates
when everybody was working, and nobody was buying
what was made ? If there were no markets, where were
you to sell your produce ? They said they would live
on the land. I answered that the land would not sup-
port the population: you would need to import bread-
stuffs, with what were you going to pay for them ? I
added that my heart was with them, but that they could
only attain their ends by massacring or starving three-
fourths of the population, and who knew how he him-
self might fare, with a three-to-one chance against his
survival P Suppose it did not come to that, I urged,
suppose the Bill gave all the world employment; suppose
that, somehow, it also paid their wages, or supported
them, in a very short time you would need a Four Hours'
Bill (cheers), a Two Hours' Bill, a One Hour's Bill, of
course with no fall in wages. The constitution of things
would not run to it.
They said that I had clearly not fought out the econo-
mic aspect of the question. I said that was how my hair
was blanched, with trying to fight it out, but that,
somehow, it always baffled me. I added remarks about
squaring the circle, but they said it was a good deal
easier to square Mr. Gladstone. The friends of Total
Prohibition of Vaccination and of Beer were waiting, also
a deputation, who wanted subscriptions for a Shelley
Memorial, llussian Jews, Maxim guns for Missionaries,
and other benevolent objects. I declined to see them,
however, and was left to solitude, and to the reflection
tbat I am unfitted for the sphere of active politics. In
this belief the neighbours are now pretty generally agreed,
which, as I have no keen ambition to shine in Parliament,
is a very fortunate circumstance.
LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS.
Dear Mr. Punch, Mount Street, Grosvenor Square
The Pace for the Eclipse Stakes at Sandown was pro-
ductive of tremendous excitement, and everybody turned pale as
the two gallant horses came up the straight, locked together, but the
key to the situation—Parliamentary phrase, due to the prevalence
of Elections—was held by the champion Orme, who managed to
get home, "all out" by a neck!—at least, Lord Arthur said he
was " all out," though how he could be " home " at the same time
I don't quite understand—but he may have been alluding to the
backers of Orvieto. I was told that St. Damien "made up a lot
of ground at the finish;" but I can't say I noticed it myself, as
the course looked to me exactly as it did before the race! Dear
me! how pleased my friends the Duke and Duchess of West-
minster did look !—and with good reason, too—it was a wonderful
task for Orme to accomplish, with only six weeks' training!— it
must have been a special train all the time; in fact, the one he
was brought to Sandown in, I suppose.
Being unable to go to Leicester, I took advantage of a military
escort, offered me by-(no—let the gallant officer's name remain a
secret—he little thought he was escorting a Press-lady)—to pay a
visit to the New Wimbledon—and being nothing if not loyal, I chose
the day when the shooting for the " Queen's " commenced. My
escort informed me with an inane smile, that the Camp had experi-
enced "Bisley weather ; " the feebleness of which joke so annoyed
me, that I am half inclined to put his name in the pillory of public
print—(what a glorious expression for our own Midlothian Mouther)
—but I refrain, for reasons connected with Lord Arthur.
I must say that I think Bisley has a more business-like look than
Wimbledon ever had, though perhaps this is scarcely to the taste of
the average feminine visitor, who used to enjoy pic-nicing to the
accompaniment of whizzing bullets, and does not appreciate the
latter without the former. The shooting was very uncertain in the
first stage of the Queen's, as the wind was in a variable mood—(is
the wind feminine, I wonder ?)—going sometimes at eighteen and
sometimes at thirty miles an hour, which was disconcerting and
inconsiderate behaviour (it must be feminine !)—calculated to annoy
A VICTORY OF THE POLLS.
Mental collapse op an Election Editor after compiling; Statistic
Day and Night for the last Three Weeks !
any right-minded Volunteer! Indeed, one notoriously good shot,
Private Chicken, although a good plucked one—having made six
misses in ten shots—declined to be roasted by his friends, and
retired into his casserole—which is French for tent, I believe—while
several other marksmen (why marksmen ?) found themselves care-
fully placing their bullets on other people's targets.
However, I was much struck with the equanimity with which
reverses were accepted by the members of our gallant Amateur
Army, and intend composing an ode in their honour, to be sung in
camp to the accompaniment of bullets, bagpipes, and brass bands!
(more alliteration for the Midlothian Maltese Marriage Merchant),
the refrain of which will run thus :—
The Volunteer ! The Volunteer!!
No matter how the wind may veer !
Will have no fear! and will not sweer !! so do not jeer!! ! the Volunteer!! ! "
—appropriate patriotic music to which will be written by Signor
Clemen ti Schiotti!
There is no racing of any importance this week, there being only a
small Meeting under Pic N ic Pules, at a place called Goodwood—(I
write of it in this contemptuous way, as 1 am not going myself)—
somewhere on the coast of' the Solent—to which I need not allude at
any length; I will, therefore, only mention one race having been so
successful lately, that I can afford to rest on my oars—(rather an
insecure position by the way, for anyone who can't swim!) and
remain as usual Yours devotedly, Lady Gay.
Chesterfield Cup Selection.
To win such a race as the Chesterfield Cup,
Is a task wanting speed and endurance;
And the duty of all. ere the ghost giving up,
Is to quickly effect an Insurance,,"
P.S.—I don't see any sense in this, but the rhyme is good !
L. G.
41
to blows. The Party then withdrew, giving three cheers
for Mr. Gladstone, but not pledging themselves to vote
for me.
The Eight Hours' people were at me next. I said I
saw that the Bill would provide employment for a number
of people, but I added, that I did not see who was to pay
the wages, nor who was to buy the goods. _ For, I re-
marked, you certainly cannot compete with foreign
countries at this rate, and at home the Classes will be
competing with you, being obliged to have recourse to
manual labour. They said that was just what they
wanted, everybody to labour with his hands. I answered
that many of the Classes, a poor lot at best (cheers),
would come on the Parish. Who was to pay the rates
when everybody was working, and nobody was buying
what was made ? If there were no markets, where were
you to sell your produce ? They said they would live
on the land. I answered that the land would not sup-
port the population: you would need to import bread-
stuffs, with what were you going to pay for them ? I
added that my heart was with them, but that they could
only attain their ends by massacring or starving three-
fourths of the population, and who knew how he him-
self might fare, with a three-to-one chance against his
survival P Suppose it did not come to that, I urged,
suppose the Bill gave all the world employment; suppose
that, somehow, it also paid their wages, or supported
them, in a very short time you would need a Four Hours'
Bill (cheers), a Two Hours' Bill, a One Hour's Bill, of
course with no fall in wages. The constitution of things
would not run to it.
They said that I had clearly not fought out the econo-
mic aspect of the question. I said that was how my hair
was blanched, with trying to fight it out, but that,
somehow, it always baffled me. I added remarks about
squaring the circle, but they said it was a good deal
easier to square Mr. Gladstone. The friends of Total
Prohibition of Vaccination and of Beer were waiting, also
a deputation, who wanted subscriptions for a Shelley
Memorial, llussian Jews, Maxim guns for Missionaries,
and other benevolent objects. I declined to see them,
however, and was left to solitude, and to the reflection
tbat I am unfitted for the sphere of active politics. In
this belief the neighbours are now pretty generally agreed,
which, as I have no keen ambition to shine in Parliament,
is a very fortunate circumstance.
LADY GAY'S SELECTIONS.
Dear Mr. Punch, Mount Street, Grosvenor Square
The Pace for the Eclipse Stakes at Sandown was pro-
ductive of tremendous excitement, and everybody turned pale as
the two gallant horses came up the straight, locked together, but the
key to the situation—Parliamentary phrase, due to the prevalence
of Elections—was held by the champion Orme, who managed to
get home, "all out" by a neck!—at least, Lord Arthur said he
was " all out," though how he could be " home " at the same time
I don't quite understand—but he may have been alluding to the
backers of Orvieto. I was told that St. Damien "made up a lot
of ground at the finish;" but I can't say I noticed it myself, as
the course looked to me exactly as it did before the race! Dear
me! how pleased my friends the Duke and Duchess of West-
minster did look !—and with good reason, too—it was a wonderful
task for Orme to accomplish, with only six weeks' training!— it
must have been a special train all the time; in fact, the one he
was brought to Sandown in, I suppose.
Being unable to go to Leicester, I took advantage of a military
escort, offered me by-(no—let the gallant officer's name remain a
secret—he little thought he was escorting a Press-lady)—to pay a
visit to the New Wimbledon—and being nothing if not loyal, I chose
the day when the shooting for the " Queen's " commenced. My
escort informed me with an inane smile, that the Camp had experi-
enced "Bisley weather ; " the feebleness of which joke so annoyed
me, that I am half inclined to put his name in the pillory of public
print—(what a glorious expression for our own Midlothian Mouther)
—but I refrain, for reasons connected with Lord Arthur.
I must say that I think Bisley has a more business-like look than
Wimbledon ever had, though perhaps this is scarcely to the taste of
the average feminine visitor, who used to enjoy pic-nicing to the
accompaniment of whizzing bullets, and does not appreciate the
latter without the former. The shooting was very uncertain in the
first stage of the Queen's, as the wind was in a variable mood—(is
the wind feminine, I wonder ?)—going sometimes at eighteen and
sometimes at thirty miles an hour, which was disconcerting and
inconsiderate behaviour (it must be feminine !)—calculated to annoy
A VICTORY OF THE POLLS.
Mental collapse op an Election Editor after compiling; Statistic
Day and Night for the last Three Weeks !
any right-minded Volunteer! Indeed, one notoriously good shot,
Private Chicken, although a good plucked one—having made six
misses in ten shots—declined to be roasted by his friends, and
retired into his casserole—which is French for tent, I believe—while
several other marksmen (why marksmen ?) found themselves care-
fully placing their bullets on other people's targets.
However, I was much struck with the equanimity with which
reverses were accepted by the members of our gallant Amateur
Army, and intend composing an ode in their honour, to be sung in
camp to the accompaniment of bullets, bagpipes, and brass bands!
(more alliteration for the Midlothian Maltese Marriage Merchant),
the refrain of which will run thus :—
The Volunteer ! The Volunteer!!
No matter how the wind may veer !
Will have no fear! and will not sweer !! so do not jeer!! ! the Volunteer!! ! "
—appropriate patriotic music to which will be written by Signor
Clemen ti Schiotti!
There is no racing of any importance this week, there being only a
small Meeting under Pic N ic Pules, at a place called Goodwood—(I
write of it in this contemptuous way, as 1 am not going myself)—
somewhere on the coast of' the Solent—to which I need not allude at
any length; I will, therefore, only mention one race having been so
successful lately, that I can afford to rest on my oars—(rather an
insecure position by the way, for anyone who can't swim!) and
remain as usual Yours devotedly, Lady Gay.
Chesterfield Cup Selection.
To win such a race as the Chesterfield Cup,
Is a task wanting speed and endurance;
And the duty of all. ere the ghost giving up,
Is to quickly effect an Insurance,,"
P.S.—I don't see any sense in this, but the rhyme is good !
L. G.