Punch (103.1892)

August 27, 1892.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

89

Sort o' needled her somehow, I fancy ; hut, hless yer, I soon put approach "Mr." with a furtive clandestine air, and observe cheerily,
that straight. '' 1 hope to remain here a month." " Certainly, Sor ; is better you

Gals is wonderful touchy on togs ! Covent Garden piled high on a plate do; will be se same as last year ; I gif you se same appartement, you
With a blue hostrich-feather all round it, mayn't be man's hidea see."—This with an air of favour. I thank him profusely—for
of a tile, ! nothing. My bill turns out to be higher than if I had been over-

But I flattered her taste a rare bat, and soon 'ad her again on the charged separately for everything. "Mr." is the Master of the Arts

smile.

of extras. He does not wish to make a profit; oh no ! but—ahem—

Well, " Venice the Bride of the Sea," is wuth more than one visit, }G ™akes ^ As,ff *he ?utsider.s,^° st»agf&e in fsu/tlljr for
old ml luncheon and want to be sharp with Mr." afterwards, they are

And I've got a hengagement next week to go there with the same fon S(itt}f- ?nf who won't be done complains of a prince's ransom
root "al n ° ° for a potato-salad.— 11 you haf pertatas, you pay for pertatas.—

r'm going to 'read up the subjeck, I '11 cram for it all I can carry, Talleyrand could not have been more unanswerable.
For I'm bound to be fair in the know if young Polly should :((q MQr- ^ immense at entertainments; it is Mr/ who organises
question Yours 'Arry °e Spanish Consairt," Se Duetto of se Poor Blinds," and, of

1 - ' course, "Se Bal " ; he is very proud of his latest acquisition—the

Orchestrion that plays the dinner down. To see " Mr." dispatch
INNS AND OUTS. itinerant minstrels would do our County Council good.

No. I.—" Mister."

Mr." knows our compatriots an fond; he makes no extra charge
for toast at breakfast, and you only pay half-a-crown for a pot of

In a " Grand Hotel" again; abroad; never mind which or where ; George the Third Marmalade, to lubricate it withal. Eive-o' clock
have experienced many Inns and many outings, but find all Grand tea comes up at six, just as at home. He makes much of Actors,
Hotels much the same. "Lawn-tennis, English Church in the j Peers, and Clergymen. Sunday is a great day for " Mr." He directs
Spacious Grounds, good station for friends of the Fisch-Sport." everyone to the English Church in " The Grounds "—(fifteen benches
—But the quintessence of Grand-Hotelism is "Mr." in his Bureau. \ and one tree, with a fountain between them); and then goes off to

The main thing about "Mr." is his ___ play cards, but always in his frock-

frock-coat ("made in Germany"). It jLs*^- coat. The" Chaplain" gets his break-

is always buttoned; he is never with- mf^sY ,imrr>*. fast-egg gratis; and a stray Bishop

out it; I believe he sleeps in it. Divest «j, «sb4\ /wllfc writes, " Nothing can exceed the com -

him of this magician's robe (so to speak) v TsM. ^tfffE^< fort of this Hotel," in that Doomsday

and he would be powerless. ^\y^to\^ MjJC iwilK^^^^^ Book of Visitors.

The Hotel omnibus clatters in; h^^^^W/J^\. /ISi^^^^^^^v When you depart—and, abroad, this

"Mr." confronts us, smiling and tWltIf//////'//>f4w^ m* I llM^^^^^i is generally about daybreak—" Mr."

serene, with his two Secretaries of //^///r&^■ff/illmxv\ mm^^^-^^^^ ^s always on the spot, haughty, as

Legation. He discriminates the Inn- J^/^l'/n ft/l/l I<x JllWMitffiS^W^^ becomes a man about to be paid, but

comers at a glance. — " Numero 10, / f/$Vii-L- '■' ■\ I^H v^Hl i^^S^W\ 'm^Mk. considerate; there is a bouquet in

11,12, entresol; " for Noah-like Pater- A^. «/fcr^4^^T^^a f''1' fis Wim^mili IK petticoats for the Entresol—even, for

familias with Caravan; "Numero 656, (C^ cww^s~^W^s^mi V^H ii!r iBil^MlMmi me' a con<Aescending word. " When
for se Leddy's med ; " "Numero_80, ^ImWiml^Xmk X«i& WilKMlWL

you see Mr. Shones in London, you

for me, the soi-disant Habitue ;" it's WWi Mil}] I liv\\\\WMi WmUilwlllillmi ^ hi?n next year I make se Gulf-

the room I'm supposed to have always § fsafffl^BRBgi^S^W^ Wiml ll m Wk -^l'n^s*" I don't know who the dickens

had, so 1 pretend to like it. One Unre- fj j|1 of^^|^^^v'^\ WlWw7'4flMr «""0NES may De> but I snigger. It all

munerative - looking Pedestrian, in I i fjk \ \/$5$f"| ^ Cw% "%s£/ Wliwwy//%% w sVrmSa from that miserable fiction of

knickerbockers, is assured that, if he I I l|F))r-w| \\wo» ^WIm hF being an Habitue. "Sans adieux /"

waits half a day or so, he may get an / l| I j| W'M'^v\<Vwk '/''/■ ■/t^;> mv/Wm ejaculates "Mr.," who is great at

attic—"Back of se house; fine view —^^^^m'^^W^ YJf 'fm languages; so am I, but, somehow,

of se sluice-gate and cemetery.".— fj ' *^0kf'M$l % 'M find myself saying" Good-bye" quite

U.-L. P. expostulates; he has tele- // ^fpf **W? If /M naturally. A propos of languages,

graphed for a good room ; it's too bad. jj \0k 0& K J§r \$ " Mr." is very patient with the Ladies

—"Yer' sawy, but is quite complete ) \ ^mrM^ w speak to him in so-called

now, se Hotel." U.-L. P., furious; J '^y? lu'Wiz French or German, when they say,

"Hang it," &c. "Mr." deprecates Iff ffl 3 n " °" est Ie Portier ? " or. " Es ist

this ingratitude—" Ver'sawy, Sor; but J^bd^^/?''/' se^ir sc^on heute" ae replies, in the

if you don't like," (with decision), " se genuine tongue. I once overheard

whole wide wurrld is open to you! " ,L „ ,,' . , , , „ T , >T -. . , ,, a Lady discussing the chances of rest

Pedestrian retires, threatening to write IIe sees ttie Cook s ticket through the U.-L. P. s Norfolk-jacket.' and quiet in the .< Gra?d Hotel-"

to the Times. Preposterous ! as if the Editor would print anything '

against "Mr." 1 " Mr.'s" attitude majestic and martyred; Casa
bianca in a frock-coat! Bless you! he knows us all, better than we
know ourselves. He sees the Cook's ticket through the U.-L. P.'s
Norfolk-jacket.

When " Mr." is not writing, he is changing money. The sheepish
Briton stands dumb before this financier, and is shorn—of the ex-
change, with an oafish fascination at "Mr.'s" dexterous manipu-
lation of the rouleaux of gold and notes. Nobody dares haggle with
"Mr." When he is not changing money, he is, as I have said,
writing, perhaps his Reminiscences. It is "Mr." "What gif you
se informations ; " and what questions ! The seasoned Pensionnaire
wants to know how she can get to that lovely valley where the Tiger-
lilies grow, without taking a carriage. The British Matron, where
she can buy rusks, " real English rusks, you know." A cantankerous
tripper asks "why he never has bread-sauce with the nightly
chicken." And we all troop to " Mr." after breakfast, to beg him
to affix postage-stamps to our letters, and to demand the precise
time when " they Will reach England ; " as if they wouldn't reach
at all without "Mr.'s" authority. It gives the nervous a sense
of security to watch "Mr." stamping envelopes. It is a way of
beginning the day in a Grand Hotel.

_ " Mr." gives you the idea of not wishing to make a profit; but he
gives you nothing else. You wish to be " en pension "—" Yer' well,
Sor, it is seventeen francs (or marks) the day ; " but you soon dis-
cover that your room is extra, and that you may not dine "apart; "
in a word, you are " Mr.'s " bondsman. Then there is the persuasive
lady, who perhaps, may be stopping a week or more, but her plans
are undecided—at any rate six days—"Will 'Mr.' make a reduc-
tion ? " _ " Mr." however, continues his manuscript, oh ever so long !
and smiles; his smile is worse than his bite! I, the Habitue,

Oui e'est une grande rested said she. It only puzzled " Mr." for
a moment. "Parfaitement, Madame ; e'est ravissant, n'est-cepas ? "
and then "Mr." sold her the little Hand-book, composed by the
Clergyman, on which he receives a commission.

NEED I SAY MOllE?

I loved —and need I say she was a woman ?

And need I say I thought her just divine ?
Her beauty (like this rhyme) was quite uncommon.

Alas, she said she never could be mine !

My Uncle was a Baronet, and wealthy,

But old, ill-tempered, deaf, and plagued with gout;
I was his heir, a pauper young and healthy ;

My Uncle—need I say ?—had cut me out.

I swore—and need I say the words I muttered ?

Sir Hector married Kate, and changed his will.
Dry bread for me ! For her the tea-cake buttered.

I starved—and, need I say, I'm starving still!

"A Carpet Knight"—Sir Blttndell Maple. Likewise that
Sir B. M. is " a Knight of the Round Table." [N.B. Great rush to
let off these. Contribution-Box joke-full of 'em. Impossible, there-
fore, to decide " who spoke first." Reward of Merit still in hand.]

Suggestion.—The Music-and-Hartland Committee will permit the
performance of brief "Sketches" in the Music Halls. Wouldn't
Harmonies " by our own Whistler be more appropriate ?