There, standing face to face, foil in hand,Just out of lunging range they salute,Who anon, swordsman stark, old fencer grand,Must fight their duel out, foot to foot.Mere preliminary flourish, all of this;The punctilio of "form" without a fault;But soon the blades shall counter, clash, and twist,In assault.The ritual of the rapier or the foil;Vastly pretty ceremonial parade.Merest preface to the hot and breathless toilOf the fencers fiercely battling blade to blade.In position! Featly, formally on guard,Engage the blades in quarte. But by-and-byEvery subtle thrust and parry, feint and ward,Each will try.Foible to foible! Measure distance! Lunge!Now the thrust ends in the merest harmless touch;But ere the beaten man throws up the sponge,As the boxers say, relaxing his hilt-clutch,There'll be lunges and ripostes of other sort.Firm foot and steady hand must be their friend;The encounter will be struggle, not mere sport,Ere the end.First to left and then to right! Parry of quarte!In pronation by a turn of supple wrist!Parry in tierce! All elegant and smart;But the lethal thrust no parry can resistComes not in this preliminary play.The defender, so complacent and erect,Will show another pose another day,We suspect.And that grey Grand Old Assailant, who's expertAt beat and re-beat, press, and graze, and bind,Will try his best at a disabling hurt;It is not mere parade that's in his mind.Meanwhile he's taking measure of his foe,Meanwhile his foe of him is taking stock;And anon they'll come together in a glow,With a shock!
There, standing face to face, foil in hand,Just out of lunging range they salute,Who anon, swordsman stark, old fencer grand,Must fight their duel out, foot to foot.Mere preliminary flourish, all of this;The punctilio of "form" without a fault;But soon the blades shall counter, clash, and twist,In assault.
There, standing face to face, foil in hand,
Just out of lunging range they salute,
Who anon, swordsman stark, old fencer grand,
Must fight their duel out, foot to foot.
Mere preliminary flourish, all of this;
The punctilio of "form" without a fault;
But soon the blades shall counter, clash, and twist,
In assault.
The ritual of the rapier or the foil;Vastly pretty ceremonial parade.Merest preface to the hot and breathless toilOf the fencers fiercely battling blade to blade.In position! Featly, formally on guard,Engage the blades in quarte. But by-and-byEvery subtle thrust and parry, feint and ward,Each will try.
The ritual of the rapier or the foil;
Vastly pretty ceremonial parade.
Merest preface to the hot and breathless toil
Of the fencers fiercely battling blade to blade.
In position! Featly, formally on guard,
Engage the blades in quarte. But by-and-by
Every subtle thrust and parry, feint and ward,
Each will try.
Foible to foible! Measure distance! Lunge!Now the thrust ends in the merest harmless touch;But ere the beaten man throws up the sponge,As the boxers say, relaxing his hilt-clutch,There'll be lunges and ripostes of other sort.Firm foot and steady hand must be their friend;The encounter will be struggle, not mere sport,Ere the end.
Foible to foible! Measure distance! Lunge!
Now the thrust ends in the merest harmless touch;
But ere the beaten man throws up the sponge,
As the boxers say, relaxing his hilt-clutch,
There'll be lunges and ripostes of other sort.
Firm foot and steady hand must be their friend;
The encounter will be struggle, not mere sport,
Ere the end.
First to left and then to right! Parry of quarte!In pronation by a turn of supple wrist!Parry in tierce! All elegant and smart;But the lethal thrust no parry can resistComes not in this preliminary play.The defender, so complacent and erect,Will show another pose another day,We suspect.
First to left and then to right! Parry of quarte!
In pronation by a turn of supple wrist!
Parry in tierce! All elegant and smart;
But the lethal thrust no parry can resist
Comes not in this preliminary play.
The defender, so complacent and erect,
Will show another pose another day,
We suspect.
And that grey Grand Old Assailant, who's expertAt beat and re-beat, press, and graze, and bind,Will try his best at a disabling hurt;It is not mere parade that's in his mind.Meanwhile he's taking measure of his foe,Meanwhile his foe of him is taking stock;And anon they'll come together in a glow,With a shock!
And that grey Grand Old Assailant, who's expert
At beat and re-beat, press, and graze, and bind,
Will try his best at a disabling hurt;
It is not mere parade that's in his mind.
Meanwhile he's taking measure of his foe,
Meanwhile his foe of him is taking stock;
And anon they'll come together in a glow,
With a shock!
Brief Fragment of a current Historical Romance.
Brief Fragment of a current Historical Romance.
[It is whispered that thePrime Ministerhas of late taken too much into his own hands the conduct of the foreign affairs of the Government.—Smoking-room Gossip.]
[It is whispered that thePrime Ministerhas of late taken too much into his own hands the conduct of the foreign affairs of the Government.—Smoking-room Gossip.]
ThePrime Ministerstood upon the rug, with his back to the fire, and regarded his assembled colleagues with an imperious and angry scowl. There was a profound and significant silence for several minutes. At length it broke. He was addressing them once more.
"You understand the official relationship that exists between us. You are my creatures. I am your Master. What I originate, you accept. I act, you endorse. Do I," he continued, his voice rising to a shrill, piping treble, "do I make myself sufficiently clear?"
A sickly smile of abject acquiescence overspread the features of the now trembling Ministers. Their Chief noted it with a gloomy glare. Then with a furious gesture, he suddenly kicked a waste-paper basket into the air. "You may go!" he growled. They did not wait for a second permission. Swiftly, but obsequiously, they glided out of the room, and with traces of terror stamped on their blanched countenances, silently sought the little neighbouring Railway Station, and took the next train to London.
That night the Premier sat up late. But his work, when he began it, did not take him long. Yet it was not unimportant, for the departing mail-bag carried a set of sealed orders for the Admiral in Command of the British Squadron in East African Waters, another Ultimatum to the Government of Portugal, a threatening communication to the Porte, and disturbing despatches, threatening to the peace of Europe, to the Governments of Russia, France, and Germany respectively. He laughed long and loud when he thought of their contents. Then he went to bed.
Later on, his work bore fruit; and people then said that the Cabinet of the day must have been a strange one!
THE SALUTETHE "SALUTE!" OR, TAKING HIS MEASURE.(Opening of Session, Feb. 11, 1890.)
(Opening of Session, Feb. 11, 1890.)
HORRIBLE RESULTHORRIBLE RESULT OF USING THE "EGYPTIAN FUR-TILISER.""A cargo of 180,000 mummified Cats has just been landed at Liverpool, to be used as Manure."—Daily Paper.
"A cargo of 180,000 mummified Cats has just been landed at Liverpool, to be used as Manure."—Daily Paper.
cartoon
I'm a beginning for to think as we're rayther a rum lot in this werry strawnery world of ours. I've jest bin a collectin from sum of my brother Waiters sum of their little historys, as far as they remembers 'em, and werry strange and werry warious sum on 'em is. There's one pore chap who's about as onest and as atentif a Waiter as I nos on anywheres, but you never, no never, ewer sees him smile, not ewen wen a ginerus old Deputy, or a new maid Alderman, gives him harf-a-crown! I've offen and offen tried to cheer him hup with a good old glass of ginerus port, wen sum reglar swells has bin a dining and has not emtied the bottels—as reel Gennelmen never does—but never quite suck-seeded, tho' he drank down his wine fast enuff and ewidently injoyed it quite as much as if he'd paid for it, praps jest a leetle bit more. So one day I wentured to arsk him how it was as he was allers as sollem as a Churchwarden at a Charity Sermon, or a Clown in summer time, and he told me as it was all causd by the suckemstances of his hurly life, which he had never been abel to shake off hisself, pore Fellar! tho' they was none of 'em his own fault, which they was as follers.
To begin with. He was born on a Fryday, on the 1st of April, and amost all his days for years after seems to have been either Frydays or Fust of Aprils, sumtimes one, sumtimes tother, sumtimes both. He was the youngest of eleven children, and so made the family party consist of 13, always as we all knos a unlucky number, and he seemed to have been treeted as if it had bin his own fault, which in course it wasn't, not by no means, no more than it was his fault the having the Skarlet Fever on one Crismus Day, which he did to heverybody's disgust.
He was afterwards told by his old NussBeckythat one speshal greevance of his pore mother was, that her youngest child being seven years old whenBillywas born, all the warious prepperashuns customary on such himportant occasions had been dun away with as useless, ewen to the customary gigantick Pincushon, so that in his case there was no "Welcum to the Little Stranger!" So long, too, as his oldest brother remained at tome, he was never allowed to set down to dinner with the rest of the famerly, because, in course, he made up the unlucky number, the werry nateral consequence being, that when his oldest brother suddenly took his departure from among 'em, poor littleBillywas werry severely flogged for setting down to dinner with a smiling countinghouse! Of course ewery time as his unfortnit Birthday came round he was made a April Fool of, all his six lovin Brothers jining in the sport, one arter the other, nearly all day long. When he went to school, ewerybody knowed of his afflickshun, and made a fool of him, hushers and all.
After he growed up, his Father got him a plaice at a Lunatic Asylum, as being the most properest for his sollem natur; and there he remained for no less than five years!
Then, on the other hand, there's oldTom, or rayther yungTom, for he's one of them jolly chaps as never seems to get no older. Why he goes about a grinning away, and a chatting away, and a chaffing of oldBill, who's much younger than him, like anythink. So I naterally arsked him how he acounted for his good sperrits. And what was his arnser? Why, hurly training. His Father was a Comic Play Actor, and allers ready for a larf, and offen took yungTomwith him to the Theater till he becum quite a favrite with all the merry gals there, who used to pet him, and give him sweets, and teach him to say all sorts of funny things; and, when he was old enuff, he was promoted to the dignity of a full-blown Super, at 18 shillings a week, and all his close found. His grate differculty was in looking serious and keeping serious when serious bizziness was a going on; and on one occashun, when he was playing one of a band of sangwinerry ruffians, sumthink so took his fansy, that he not only bust into a loud larf hisself, but set all the rest of the sangwinerry ruffians a larfing too, and quite spiled all the effect of the scene. So he was bundled off neck and crop, and soon afterwards got a sitewashun as a Pleaceman, but, for the life of him, he never could keep hisself serious when he was before a Magistrate with a case; for if ennybody made a joke, or ennybody larfed,Tomset off a grinning with the best of 'em, and once axshally made a joke with his Worship; so of course off he was sent again, to find a rest for the soles of his feet, and a free play for his good sperrits, in the honnerabel capacity of a Waiter.
Robert.
PUNCH'S PARLIAMENTARY PUPPETSPUNCH'S PARLIAMENTARY PUPPETS.
ULTIMA RATIOULTIMA RATIO.Small Rustic."Yeou can't go that way."Stalwart Young Lady(out Sketching). "Why not?"Small Rustic."'Cause there's—there's Hurdles."Stalwart Young Lady."But I can get over Hurdles."Small Rustic."And then there's the Bull!"
Small Rustic."Yeou can't go that way."
Stalwart Young Lady(out Sketching). "Why not?"
Small Rustic."'Cause there's—there's Hurdles."
Stalwart Young Lady."But I can get over Hurdles."
Small Rustic."And then there's the Bull!"
Extracted From the Diary of Toby, M P.
Extracted From the Diary of Toby, M P.
Cartoon
ouseof Commons, Tuesday, February 11.—"How do you do,Toby? A merry New Session and many of them."
It wasOld Moralitywho spoke; his kindly face beamed on me; his friendly hand grasped mine. Walked up the floor together through the old familiar scene. Benches crowded, though a vacant seat here and there:Hartington'sfor example. Everybody sorry to hear he's been ill, and glad to think of him enjoying the sunlight of Monte Carlo. Grand Old Man more Grand and less Old than ever; just up from Oxford; passed very well, it is said. Comes into Parliament with every prospect of distinguishing himself; his maiden speech looked for with much interest.
"I think I'll put it off for a month or two,Toby," he said, blushing with the ingenuousness of youth. "You see I'm so fresh from college, that it would ill become me to plunge into public affairs. It's all very well for a young fellow like me to get up at the Union; but here it's different. You're very good to say that great things are expected of me; but, if you please, I'll keep in the background a bit. I'll feel my feet first, as they used to say in the nursery, in what seems only yesterweek."
Very nice this of him. Wish all young fellows fresh from the University, even when they have taken honours, were equally modest.
"Haven't seen you since we met at Greenlands' icy mountains in the Recess,"Old Moralitysaid, continuing our conversation interrupted by the cheers that greeted our arrival. "You remember how bitterly cold the day was? Rather thought you hurried away. Wish you could have stayed to luncheon. We happened to have something succulent. However, you must come and dine in my room behind theSpeaker'sChair;Akers-Douglaswill show you the way. We do it pretty snug there, I can tell you. What sort of a Session shall we have? Who can tell? Usual sort of thing, I suppose. We shall bring in a lot of Bills; Gentlemen opposite will talk some of them out; at Easter and Whitsuntide Recesses we shall squeeze a stage of some through, under pressure of the holidays; then three weeks in June and most of July will be wasted; and in August we'll suspend Standing Orders, and ram through everything we can. As for me, I shall endeavour to do my duty to theQueen, to the Country, and to the Members of this House, in whichever part they sit. Did you ever, dearToby, consider how a kettle boils? The water nearest to the fire is first heated, and (being heated) rises to the top. Its place is supplied by colder portions, which are heated in turn, and this interchange takes place till all the water is boiling hot. That is how we shall get through the Session. The Report of the Parnell Commission, being most heated, will rise to the top first. Then the Tithes Bill, Land Purchase, the Education question, and one or two other little matters will follow, till we're all in boiling water. Good-bye now; don't forget to come acrossAkers-Douglasabout Eight o'Clock."
Business done.—Session opened.
Killing for a Shilling.—LordWolseley(who seems to have read the regulations governing communications from soldiers to the Press in a very liberal spirit) has published an article on the British Army in the pages of an American Twelvepenny Magazine. The contribution is embellished with sketches of the costumes ofTommy Atkinsand his predecessors. For the rest, some of the letterpress is sufficiently alarming to warrant "Our Only General" in assuming a title which he apparently appears to covet—that of a "Shilling Shocker!"
Vol au VentVol au Vent.
Now that the Parliamentary Session has opened, and the Season threatens to set in with its usual severity, the dinner question comes prominently to the front. Even in the best-regulated households there is a sameness about dinner which, towards the end of the week, palls upon the appetite. Some ambitious young men have attempted to deal with the matter and surprise their guests by introducing cheese immediately after the soup (soufflé au parmesan), and after a cut of beef comes the fish (turbot à la Russe). That is well meant, but it is crude.Mr. Punchhas given his great mind to the subject, and presents to the consideration of the dining world the following hints for a meal:—
Half-om-half.Blauwe Landtongsche Oesters.Hoog-Sauterneswijn.Soepen.Dikke Rivierkreeften Soep. Volmaakte Soep in Van Dijk Stijl.Amontillado.Zuschotelles.Selderij. Olijven. Radijs. Haringen. Poukenvorm gebakken in Berg-op-Zoomsche Stijl.Liebfraumilch.Gekruide Gerechten.Volmaakte Soep in Van Dijk Stijl. Lambasteien met Zeeuwsche Saus.Chateau Danzac.Voorgerechten.Hoenden Vleugels, met Haagsche Saus.Heetkoudegemakten Ganzenlevers in Zwolsche Stijl.Ruinart, wrang wijn, Bijzonder Perrier Jouet, Louis Roederer, wrang,Giesler & Co., G. H. Mumm, buitengewoondroog.Groenten.Aardappelen in Sneeksche Stijl.Doperwten, Fransche Stijl.Gebakkene Kropsalade.Sorbet, Anneke Jans.Gebraad.Kanefasrug Eendvogels. Gekruide Seiderij-sla.Richebourg.Nagerecht.Curacaogelei. Italiaansche Ijs. Edamsche Kaas. Vruchten.Gemonteerde Stukken.Koffie.Likeuren. Sigaren.Pupen en Tabak.
It may be objected that half-and-half, even when badly spelt, is a cold preparation for dinner; and others may take exception toPoukenvorm, as likely to have an earthy taste. But did they ever try itgebakken in Berg-op-Zoomsche Stijl? It is no use mincing matters. Let anyone in search of a good dinner enter any well-appointedrestaurant, and order thismenuright through down toPupen en Tabak(which is not a preparation of dog's meat), and if they are not satisfied,Mr. Punchis a Dutchman.
The Vaudeville, when it was opened, was devoted to all that was light and cheerful. Comedy and Burlesque went hand-in-hand, and the audience, if ever asked to weep, were begged to cry with laughter. But Mr.Robert Buchanan(with the assistance of the late Mr.Richardson) "has changed all that."Clarissa, the present attraction at the little theatre on the North-side of the Strand, is a piece of the most doleful character. The First Act is devoted to a very heartless abduction, and the last to a lingering death and a fatalduello. When it is announced that the successful fencer who "kills his man" is no less a person than that excellent Comedian, Mr.Thomas Thorne, it will be readily understood that "the New Drama" is the reverse of lively.Clarissahas scarcely a laugh in it from beginning to end. Certainly, in the last Scene but one, there is a revel, in which "pseudo-Ladies of Fashion" take part, but the merriment with which it is spiced is decidedly ghastly. MissWinifred Emeryis exceedingly clever, but her death-scene is painfully protracted. Mr.Thalberg, asLovelace, is a sad dog in every sense—a very sad dog, indeed. The only incident in the piece ever likely to provoke a smile, is the appearance of some comic bearers of grotesque sedan-chairs. WhenClarissais carried outà laGuy Fauxat the end of the Second Act, there is certainly a moment's hesitation whether the audience should cry or laugh. But the sighs have it, and pocket-handkerchiefs remain to the front. On the occasion of the initial performance, some slight amusement was caused by the introduction of Mr.Buchananin unconventional nineteenth century morning dress amongst the old-fashioned costumes of the company; but, of course, the slight amusement was for once and away, and could not advantageously be frequently repeated. Thus, take one thing with another, the life of the Vaudeville audiences at this moment cannot be truthfully described as a merry one.
Something LivelySomething Lively at the Vaudeville.
At the Avenue quite a different story may be told. People who visit this pretty little house desirous of being moved even unto tears by that finest ofFausts, Mr.Alexander, will be disappointed—they had far better stay at home, or go to seeClarissa. Mr.Hamilton Aïdéhas adapted from the French ofCarré(a case of fetch and carry) a Farcical Comedy in Three Acts, whichhecallsDr. Bill, in preference toDr. Jojothe Gallic original. The prescription from which the Doctor concocts his mixture might have been supplied by the Criterion. Mr.Frederick Terryplays a part that would have suited Mr.Wyndhamdown to the ground, and Mr.Chevalieris continually suggesting the peculiarities of Mr.Maltby. MissFanny Broughis MissFanny Brough, which means that no one could play the part so well, much less better. For the rest, the company (although a new one) work together with a "go" that carries all before it.Alexanderhas certainly conquered the world—of Comedy. He may do less wise things if he rests satisfied, and leaves Tragedy alone for an indefinitely lengthened period.
Serjeant Cox, on behalf of Private Box.
Making upMaking up Dr. Bill's Prescription.
P.S.—Mr.Jerome'snew piece (which he describes as "comparatively speaking, new and original"), just produced at Terry's Theatre, is rather disappointing. Its title ofNew Lamps for Oldstrongly suggests a "Night's Entertainment." But when the poverty of the plot and the quality of the dialogue are taken into consideration, it would be almost too much to say that this pleasant idea is fully realised by the evening's performances. It must be confessed, however, that Mr.Penley, rising and descending in a dinner-lift, is (at first) funny; and MissCissy Grahameis ever welcome.
Pointing finger
NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.
NOTICE.—Rejected Communications or Contributions, whether MS., Printed Matter, Drawings, or Pictures of any description, will in no case be returned, not even when accompanied by Stamped and Addressed Envelope, Cover, or Wrapper. To this rule there will be no exception.