JUSTIN THE TERRIBLEJUSTIN THE TERRIBLE!J. M'Carthy(with dim recollection of Mr. Penley as the "Rev. Robert Spalding"). "Do you know, Timothy, if you go on like this, I shall have to getvery crosswith you; I shall really have to give you agood hard knock!"
JUSTIN THE TERRIBLE!
J. M'Carthy(with dim recollection of Mr. Penley as the "Rev. Robert Spalding"). "Do you know, Timothy, if you go on like this, I shall have to getvery crosswith you; I shall really have to give you agood hard knock!"
DearBertie,—Ihavegot the needle, and got it exceedingly sharp.This'Arry—I mean the cad-cockney well known to "the 'Eath and the 'Arp"—Is becomin' no end of a nuisance all round; but I think you'll agreeIt is playin' it pretty low down when they mix up that mongrel with me!One would think the dropped aitch and apostrophe ought to have labelledthatbrand,Which the Comics, in picture and patter, have scattered all over the land;But surely some new Trades Mark Act must be wanted exceedingly badWhenHarry, the travellin' Briton, is jumbled with'Arrythe Cad.Just glance at the cutting enclosed. Now I travel, in silks, as you know,And Paris and Lyons to me are familiar as Bradford or Bow.But a gentisa gent, though in trade, and abroad just as much as at home,And the manners that pass in Pall Malloughtto do for Berlin or for Rome!I'm sick, my dear fellow, of readin' about British Cads on the trip,And the way that they rough-up the foreigners. Every French barber or snip,With a back that's all hinges and angles, will read us a lesson on form,And the penny-a-liners at home back him up, and we—bow to the storm!It's rot, and there's no other word for it!Imean rebellin' for one.All this talk about 'Arries Abroad, which the ink-slingers think such prime fun,Is all unpatriotic knock-under, poor tame cosmopolitan cant.And as much a true bill as the chat of that sour Mrs.Ormiston Chant.If there's anythin' gives me the hump, it is hearin' Old England run down;And your Rads, and your Cads, and your Cocktails, all haters of Class and the Crown,Are eternally bastin'John Bullon his bullyin' airs and stiff back.O it gives me the very go-nimble to hear their contemptible clack!They charge us with bounce and bad manners, with trottin' around in queer togs,With chaffin' the waiters atcafés, and treatin' the porters like dogs.They say we raise shines in their churches, and mock their processions and priests;In fact, if you'd only believe them you'd class us as bullies and beasts.NowIsay a Briton's a Briton wherever he happens to go.He has got to be "taken as written," with freedom his briar to blow,His flannels and bowler to sport, his opinions and tastes to express,As he would in Hyde Park or the Strand,and he won't be contented with less.He takes "Rule, Britannia" along with him, youngJohnny Bulldoes, you bet;And it's no use for Germans to grunt, and it's no use for Frenchmen to fret.We've got to befree, my dear fellow,—no matter if welcome or not,—And to slang us as "'Arries Abroad"forthat freedom is all tommyrot.That Johnny who writes about'Arry—inPunchdon'tcher know—is a Rad,I can see it as plain as be blowed; and he labels the lot of us "Cad",If we've patriot hearts and high spirits, talk slang, and are fond of a spree,Buthis'Arry's no class, and it's like his dashed cheek to confound him withme!He's done heaps of mischief, that joker, along of his levellin' trick,Of tarrin' the classes and masses, without any judgment or pick,With one sweepin' smudge of his tar-brush. Cad! Cad! Cad!—all over the shop!—I'm surehe's a bloomin' outsider, and wishPunchwould put on the stop.
DearBertie,—Ihavegot the needle, and got it exceedingly sharp.This'Arry—I mean the cad-cockney well known to "the 'Eath and the 'Arp"—Is becomin' no end of a nuisance all round; but I think you'll agreeIt is playin' it pretty low down when they mix up that mongrel with me!
One would think the dropped aitch and apostrophe ought to have labelledthatbrand,Which the Comics, in picture and patter, have scattered all over the land;But surely some new Trades Mark Act must be wanted exceedingly badWhenHarry, the travellin' Briton, is jumbled with'Arrythe Cad.
Just glance at the cutting enclosed. Now I travel, in silks, as you know,And Paris and Lyons to me are familiar as Bradford or Bow.But a gentisa gent, though in trade, and abroad just as much as at home,And the manners that pass in Pall Malloughtto do for Berlin or for Rome!
I'm sick, my dear fellow, of readin' about British Cads on the trip,And the way that they rough-up the foreigners. Every French barber or snip,With a back that's all hinges and angles, will read us a lesson on form,And the penny-a-liners at home back him up, and we—bow to the storm!
It's rot, and there's no other word for it!Imean rebellin' for one.All this talk about 'Arries Abroad, which the ink-slingers think such prime fun,Is all unpatriotic knock-under, poor tame cosmopolitan cant.And as much a true bill as the chat of that sour Mrs.Ormiston Chant.
If there's anythin' gives me the hump, it is hearin' Old England run down;And your Rads, and your Cads, and your Cocktails, all haters of Class and the Crown,Are eternally bastin'John Bullon his bullyin' airs and stiff back.O it gives me the very go-nimble to hear their contemptible clack!
They charge us with bounce and bad manners, with trottin' around in queer togs,With chaffin' the waiters atcafés, and treatin' the porters like dogs.They say we raise shines in their churches, and mock their processions and priests;In fact, if you'd only believe them you'd class us as bullies and beasts.
NowIsay a Briton's a Briton wherever he happens to go.He has got to be "taken as written," with freedom his briar to blow,His flannels and bowler to sport, his opinions and tastes to express,As he would in Hyde Park or the Strand,and he won't be contented with less.
He takes "Rule, Britannia" along with him, youngJohnny Bulldoes, you bet;And it's no use for Germans to grunt, and it's no use for Frenchmen to fret.We've got to befree, my dear fellow,—no matter if welcome or not,—And to slang us as "'Arries Abroad"forthat freedom is all tommyrot.
That Johnny who writes about'Arry—inPunchdon'tcher know—is a Rad,I can see it as plain as be blowed; and he labels the lot of us "Cad",If we've patriot hearts and high spirits, talk slang, and are fond of a spree,Buthis'Arry's no class, and it's like his dashed cheek to confound him withme!
He's done heaps of mischief, that joker, along of his levellin' trick,Of tarrin' the classes and masses, without any judgment or pick,With one sweepin' smudge of his tar-brush. Cad! Cad! Cad!—all over the shop!—I'm surehe's a bloomin' outsider, and wishPunchwould put on the stop.
untitled "Harry"
Ilike easy ways and slang-patter,I'm Tory and patriot all round,—As every true Englishmanmustbe who isn't an ass or a hound,—But your ill-spellin', aitch-droppin' howler, with "two quid a week"—as he brags—Isn'tme, but a Battersea bounder with big bulgy knees and loud bags.Ididdo the boulevards once in striped knickers and straw, I admit;And once in a Catholic church I will own I did laugh fit to split.But then, foreign tastes are so funny, and foreign religions so rum;And if theywillplay mumbo-jumbo, howcana smart Johnny keep mum?It is all the dashed foreigners' fault. They don't relishourup-and-down style;They smirk and they play monkey-tricks and then scowl if we happen to smile.They hate us like poison, and swear 'tis because of our "swagger and bounce,"But it'sBull'sfightin' weight that they funk, and by gad, they know that to an ounce!There! I've let off the steam, and feel better! We need "Coalition" all round,We gents, against Cad-dom,andRad-dom,—theydon't differ much, I'll be bound—We've got it in Parliament—rippin'!—and if the same scheme we can carryIn social arrangements, whythen'Arrywon't be confounded with
Ilike easy ways and slang-patter,I'm Tory and patriot all round,—As every true Englishmanmustbe who isn't an ass or a hound,—But your ill-spellin', aitch-droppin' howler, with "two quid a week"—as he brags—Isn'tme, but a Battersea bounder with big bulgy knees and loud bags.
Ididdo the boulevards once in striped knickers and straw, I admit;And once in a Catholic church I will own I did laugh fit to split.But then, foreign tastes are so funny, and foreign religions so rum;And if theywillplay mumbo-jumbo, howcana smart Johnny keep mum?
It is all the dashed foreigners' fault. They don't relishourup-and-down style;They smirk and they play monkey-tricks and then scowl if we happen to smile.They hate us like poison, and swear 'tis because of our "swagger and bounce,"But it'sBull'sfightin' weight that they funk, and by gad, they know that to an ounce!
There! I've let off the steam, and feel better! We need "Coalition" all round,We gents, against Cad-dom,andRad-dom,—theydon't differ much, I'll be bound—We've got it in Parliament—rippin'!—and if the same scheme we can carryIn social arrangements, whythen'Arrywon't be confounded with
Harry.
SCRAPS FROM CHAPS.
WHAT, INDEEDWHAT, INDEED!"Look here, Doctor, my Son wants me to send him toCollege, and he spells itColidge. Why haven't you taught him better?""Ah—I'm afraid that mere Spelling is not taught in our Curriculum!""Then what on earthistaught in your Curriculum?"[The Doctor suddenly remembers that the Sixth Formare waiting for his Lecture on Sophocles.
WHAT, INDEED!
"Look here, Doctor, my Son wants me to send him toCollege, and he spells itColidge. Why haven't you taught him better?"
"Ah—I'm afraid that mere Spelling is not taught in our Curriculum!"
"Then what on earthistaught in your Curriculum?"
[The Doctor suddenly remembers that the Sixth Formare waiting for his Lecture on Sophocles.
[The Doctor suddenly remembers that the Sixth Formare waiting for his Lecture on Sophocles.
On a Cross Bench.—The Union of Hearts does not seem to have spread as far as Limerick, if the meetings of the Limerick Rural Sanitary Board are any test. One member expressed an opinion that the Conservative Government would do as much for the labourers as the Whig Government had done.
Mr.M'Mahon.—We'll give them a chance.Mr.M'Inerney.—We have got very little out of the Liberal Government.Mr.Moran.—Bad is the best of them.The discussion then ended.
Mr.M'Mahon.—We'll give them a chance.
Mr.M'Inerney.—We have got very little out of the Liberal Government.
Mr.Moran.—Bad is the best of them.
The discussion then ended.
This is unkind to Mr.Morley. Perhaps a stave of a popular Irish melody will run thus,—
Och, these dhrivellin' Saxon Governments,They dhroive us patriots mad!The worst of 'em's unspakable,And the best of 'em is bad!
Och, these dhrivellin' Saxon Governments,They dhroive us patriots mad!The worst of 'em's unspakable,And the best of 'em is bad!
Och, these dhrivellin' Saxon Governments,They dhroive us patriots mad!The worst of 'em's unspakable,And the best of 'em is bad!
"A Little More Cider Too."—"The National Association of Cider Makers," says theBristol Mercury, "is taking energetic measures to ensure more attention being given to the cider competitions at agricultural shows." And it can't make its measures too energetic—not even if it turns an average consumption of a pint-measure into a quart. What beverage beats cider cup—unless it be perry cup? At present the only people at the shows who are allowed to taste the cider are the judges. But the public want to taste, too—give them a tasteofcider, and they'll get a tasteforit in no time. And rival makers want to taste each other's products, so as to make their own better. "Cider on tap" is the motto for the shows, and the West country will thus be given a deciderdly useful "leg-up."
Pueris Reverentia!—The advertisement question in tram-cars is "up" again before the Glasgow bailies. The Town Council has banished these disfigurements, but it seems there are still Philistine bodies who long for the good old flaring coloured-poster days. Witness this account of a recent meeting:—
Mr.Battersbypointed out that a large revenue could be derived from advertisements on the cars, and he did not see why the committee should look over such a thing.BailiePatonsaid that personally he was dead against putting advertisements on the cars. If any necessity arose they had that source of revenue. He would not spoil the beautiful appearance of the cars by vulgarising them.Mr.Battersby.—That is all sentiment of a very puerile description.
Mr.Battersbypointed out that a large revenue could be derived from advertisements on the cars, and he did not see why the committee should look over such a thing.
BailiePatonsaid that personally he was dead against putting advertisements on the cars. If any necessity arose they had that source of revenue. He would not spoil the beautiful appearance of the cars by vulgarising them.
Mr.Battersby.—That is all sentiment of a very puerile description.
Perhaps. But as there happens to be a large balance to the good on the working of the cars, why not allow the "puerile sentiment" to have play? We could do with a lot of this kind of puerility and sentimentality down south.
Good Old Sam!—Our belief even in the "respectability" ofSamuel Pepysis gone for ever. The Bright light recently thrown on him by the indefatigableMynors Brighthas done the trick. This skilled and uncompromising decipherer of the Pepysian shorthand will be remembered in connection with these volumes as "Under-Mynors Bright."
Appropriate Spot for a Provincial Bicycle Club.—Some Rural Wheellage in the Wheel'd of Kent.
IN RE THE I. O. C. R. V. C.
The suggestions I was permitted to make on a recent occasion concerning the future of "the Devil's Own" having been productive of a perfect torrent of letters, I hope that I may be allowed to reply, before the commencement of the fast-approaching Long Vacation, through the columns of a paper that for more than half a century has been the recognised organ of the Bench, the Bar, and the other branch of the legal profession. First let me repudiate, with the scorn it justly merits, and indignation which has moved me to tears, the contention that in calling attention to the comparatively falling fortunes of the Inns of Court I was "making a bid for the chiefship of the battalion." Although willing (no doubt in common with every other Englishman of right feeling) to shed my blood to its last drop in defence of my country, I can see no possible good in accepting "the crown and star" of the I. O. C. R. V. C. No, I prefer the "stuff" of the ranks to the "silk" of command. So the forensic wag, who apparently found time during the pauses of a contested election in a wavering constituency to depict me as a colonel withPortingtonas my orderly, was at fault in his conclusions. His rough-and-ready pen-and-ink sketch, although strongly resembling SirHenry Irvingin the character ofDon Quixote, was not without a certain rude kind of merit. When I inspect it (and probably I shall examine it frequently) I shall be reminded of the talents of one who, had he not been a "Q.C., M.P.," might have become the rival ofRowlandson, the peer ofGilray, and the modern extinguisher of the less serious of the Old Masters of the sixteenth century. But to return more immediately to the subject of my correspondence.
"The Brightest Ornament of the British Bench" writes to me to say that he considers "The Brook Green Volunteer" was the precursor of the Inns of Court. I respectfully submit to his Lordship that he is in error. The Brook Green Volunteer was the solitary representative of his battalion. I am happy to be able to say that the "Devil's Own," although no doubt reduced in numbers, has never on parade presented so insignificant a "field state." Consequently, the statement that "the regiment is likely to diminish to its original proportions" is a prophecy founded upon a misunderstanding and nourished upon a fallacy.
The proposal of "One who bows daily to his Lordship during Term Time" is excellent. My correspondent suggests that the Junior Bar, not immediately concerned in the business of the Courts, should drill silently in open Court. Of late it has been ordained by the Red-book that commands may be conveyed by gesture. Thus, a Judge trying a case, by raising or depressing his arms, or clenching his fist, might cause the not-immediately-employed Bar to "turn" to the right or left, or even to "lie down." This last command might be deemed satisfied by the Wig-wearers "coming to the sitting posture smartly." At the close of the day's proceedings, his Lordship might raise his left arm to the height of his elbow, upon which the temporarily-unemployed might take up their dummy briefs, and hold them at "the recover." The hand of his Lordship brought towards the face, with the thumb pointing in the direction of the nose, might cause the juniors to "turn" right and left. "Then, when the senior usher raised both his arms towards the ceiling, the stuff-gownsmen might march to their front through the corridors until they dismissed without further gesture of command in the robing rooms." Altogether capital! "One who bows dailyto his Lordship during Term Time" should publish his suggestions in pamphlet form, to be sold at the popular price of a penny.
"A Junior of Fifty Years' Standing" considers that no one should be admitted to an Inn of Court who was unwilling to join the "Devil's Own." He declares that he himself has done infinitely more work as a rifleman than as a counsel. "And yet," he adds, "I found the labour very light. I do not believe I attended more than one parade in the course of a year on the average." I may add, that possessing the name of "A Junior of Fifty Years' Standing," I can vouch for my learned friend's accuracy, eminence, and ability.
"A Judge who prefers Newmarket to the Law Courts," proposes that the corridors should be utilised as a drill-ground. "Let the Briefless Brigade drill therein during Term time, so that they may be ready to hand if needed." A very valuable suggestion.
"One who takes three years of practice to earn a quarter of chambers' rent" suggests that "The Devil's Own" should adopt as its regimental motto, "Retained for the Defence." Considering the numbers of the battalion, I am afraid the device would have a sarcastic significance. And now, in all sober seriousness, can nothing be done to put the grand old corps on its former satisfactory footing? It has an illustrious past—most of the best known men at the Bar belonged to it—is it impracticable to secure for it an equally illustrious future? Men who, for half a lifetime, have stood shoulder to shoulder in defence of their clients' causes can surely adopt the same satisfactory and honourable position to protect the interests of the ancient battalion. Let Bench and Bar work with a will, and "The Devil's Own" will be worthy of its title. And with this prophecy (which sounds well, but is delivered subject to counsel's revision) I bring my communication, already too long, to an abrupt conclusion.
(Signed)
Pump Handle Court, Aug. 10, 1895.A. Briefless, Jun.
SOCIAL PRECEDENCESOCIAL PRECEDENCE.Gentlemen entitled to Bare Arms.
SOCIAL PRECEDENCE.
Gentlemen entitled to Bare Arms.
A most Silent and Discreet Ecclesiastic.—There is a most reverend personage who, every year, and especially during the summer season, must hear any number ofAmantium confessiones, and his name is "Father Thames." Let lovers beware of a "babbling brook."
REACTION, 1895.
(See the "Daily Chronicle" of August 6.)
Reaction's in the air, and (so to speak)Its trail is o'er theChronicle'sown pages—Witness "An Unknown Quantity" this week,Whose meditative J-pen disengagesDe rebus omnibusa keen critique.Extravagance, and levity, and fadsHave been o'erdone, it seems, since Eighteen-eighty(Or thereabouts); but, our observer adds,John Bullhas this year grown more wise and weighty,Less "new," less yellow—and has chucked the Rads.Reaction's the reverse of retrograde,If we recede from decadent excesses,And beat retreat from novelists who tradeOn "Sex," from artists whosechef-d'[oe]uvresare messes—'Tis time indeed such minor plagues were stayed!Then here's for cricket in this year ofGrace,Fair-play all round, straight hitting and straight dealingIn letters, morals, art, and commonplaceReversion unto type in deed and feeling—A path of true Reaction to retrace!
Reaction's in the air, and (so to speak)Its trail is o'er theChronicle'sown pages—Witness "An Unknown Quantity" this week,Whose meditative J-pen disengagesDe rebus omnibusa keen critique.
Extravagance, and levity, and fadsHave been o'erdone, it seems, since Eighteen-eighty(Or thereabouts); but, our observer adds,John Bullhas this year grown more wise and weighty,Less "new," less yellow—and has chucked the Rads.
Reaction's the reverse of retrograde,If we recede from decadent excesses,And beat retreat from novelists who tradeOn "Sex," from artists whosechef-d'[oe]uvresare messes—'Tis time indeed such minor plagues were stayed!
Then here's for cricket in this year ofGrace,Fair-play all round, straight hitting and straight dealingIn letters, morals, art, and commonplaceReversion unto type in deed and feeling—A path of true Reaction to retrace!
Caught with a "Catch."—The idiotic catch-line of a Parisian Café-Concert ditty—"En voulez-vous des z'homards?" has been taken up by the citizens of the gay French capital with as much avidity as characterized their seizure upon shares in the Russian loan. The Comtesse Y., in sportive mood, twitted her butler—a very ancient retainer of the family—upon his antiquated, out-of-date manners, and chaffingly suggested that he should attempt to be morefin-de-siècle. The veteranmaître-d'hôtelassured Madame la Comtesse that he would give her no further cause for complaint. Accordingly, on the same evening, while handing round wine at the dinner-party, he promptly bellowed forth "En voulez-vous du Pommard?"
TRIFLES LIGHT AS HAIR.
However much Kentish farmers may grumble about the agricultural outlook, their strop-and-razor colleagues, the barbers of that county, should now replace any grief in which they also may be indulging in reference totheirindustry, with great gaiety, for there is every prospect of a long and prosperous run of hirsute harvests. The High Constable has decreed that, unless his men can grow "well regulated beards or military moustaches," they are to be clean-shaven. Farewell the festive "mutton-chop" whisker and the jovial goatee! Henceforth "Bobby" will be beardless, and as he drinks the mid-day pint of that frothing beverage whose main ingredient—more or less—is malt, the upper-lip hops-tacle, upon which the foam was wont to find a brief resting-place, will be conspicuous by its absence—not lost exactly, but s(h)aved before.
untitled
ROUNDABOUT READINGS.
PresidentAndrews, of Brown University, has contributed to theNorth American Reviewan article entitled "Are there Too Many of Us?" Personally, I should answer with an unhesitating yes, especially after Bank Holidays, orfêtesand galas such as those with which the provinces teem. And it may be noted, by the way, as a curious fact in the natural history of amusements, that no genuinefêteis ever found without a gala. Conversely a gala without afêtecannot be imagined. From the presence in your neighbourhood of one of the two you are at once entitled to infer the presence of the other.
I return, however, to ProfessorAndrews. He proves by a series of elaborate and convincing calculations that if the world started with a population of two, the increase in 3,000 years would have become "two quintillion human beings; viz., to every square yard 3,333⅓ persons. Or the earth would be covered with men in columns of 833⅓ each, standing on each others heads. If they averaged five feet tall, each column would be 4,166⅔ feet high."
All this sounds highly stupendous. As I am no mathematician, I cannot compete with ProfessorAndrewsof Brown University on equal terms, but to my non-mathematical mind the only inference to be drawn from the Professor's calculation appears to be that the world is not much more than thirty years old, or, let us say, 30⅓. In another ten years or so, I suppose we shall have to start work on the columns. Personally, I am not impatient. I am quite willing to let 832 of my friends get into position first. I can then climb up and complete the column. How the fractional third is to be made up I know not, unless—happy thought—there is to be an extra allowance of three tailors to every column.
The Social Democratic Federation has been meeting in conference at Birmingham. ComradesQuelch,Belcher,Shayer,Geard,Tooth,Tempest,WattsandWenlingtonwere all on the spot. Some discussion took place with reference toJustice, the official organ of the Federation.
Mr.Belcher(Lincoln), in the course of discussion, thought they ought to induce the workers to take up shares, and to backJusticeto the fullest extent. They were inclined to sneer at capitalists, but they could not carry on the Federation work without taking a leaf out of the capitalist's book. (Hear, hear.)Mr.M'Pherson, as one of the auditors, said the branch accounts in reference toJusticewere a disgrace. A great deal was heard about the immorality of capitalists, but a little more morality was wanted in some of the branches in regard to the paying of accounts.
Mr.Belcher(Lincoln), in the course of discussion, thought they ought to induce the workers to take up shares, and to backJusticeto the fullest extent. They were inclined to sneer at capitalists, but they could not carry on the Federation work without taking a leaf out of the capitalist's book. (Hear, hear.)
Mr.M'Pherson, as one of the auditors, said the branch accounts in reference toJusticewere a disgrace. A great deal was heard about the immorality of capitalists, but a little more morality was wanted in some of the branches in regard to the paying of accounts.
This, of course, is most lamentable. Even a Social Democrat, it seems, cannot alter hard facts or get on without money. And at present nobody seems in want of the particular kind of justice which Messrs.Quelch,Belcherand other comrades are anxious to purvey.
I like to rescue from the dark unfathomed caves of ocean any gem of purest ray serene. Here is one extracted from the speech of Mr.Powell Williams, M.P., at the recent dinner of the Birmingham Conservative Club.
Mr.Powell Williams, M.P., proposed "The Press," and said that before he spoke of the Press he would like to correct a statement which SirMeysey Thompsonmade. That gentleman thought that Yorkshire was peculiar, inasmuch as it had got rid of something objectionable in the shape of fever called Shaw-Lefevre. He put in a claim for distinction for the county of Cornwall. In Cornwall they would tell you that they had got rid of the worst kind of beer that anyone ever tasted, and that they called Conybeare.
Mr.Powell Williams, M.P., proposed "The Press," and said that before he spoke of the Press he would like to correct a statement which SirMeysey Thompsonmade. That gentleman thought that Yorkshire was peculiar, inasmuch as it had got rid of something objectionable in the shape of fever called Shaw-Lefevre. He put in a claim for distinction for the county of Cornwall. In Cornwall they would tell you that they had got rid of the worst kind of beer that anyone ever tasted, and that they called Conybeare.
Later on Mr.Williamssaid that, although the Gladstonian Press was more numerous than the Unionist Press, it had not been able to persuade the nation to swallow eighty Irish members—which is, perhaps, fortunate; since, to take only one, I am sure Mr.Tim Healywould prove a very tough morsel to digest.
And here is a rose that, but for me, might have blushed unseen in the report of the proceedings of the South Dublin Union:—
Mr.Lenehanmoved, in accordance with notice—"That the pauper inmate nurses be removed from the male and female Roman Catholic hospitals, and also from the Protestant male and female hospitals, and trained nurses engaged to look after the sick poor." During the course of a lengthened address, delivered in a remarkably loud voice, he urged that the present system of nursing was bad, that militiamen were employed for the purpose, and that reliance could not be placed on the paupers at present engaged in the hospitals. He said that there were at present 184 inmates employed in nursing, and he proposed to put a trained nurse in each ward, that would be 43, and two nurses in each hospital, that would be 8, or 51 in all. These 51 nurses, at £30 a year, or 11s.6d., would be a little over £29 (laughter), or a saving of some shillings (laughter).Mr.Sykes.—What in the world is the meaning of that calculation?Mr.Lenehanrepeated his statement amidst great laughter.Mr.O'Reillysaid he would second the motion for the sake of discussion, as Mr.Lenehancomplained that his resolutions were never seconded.Mr.Byrnewas surprised that Mr.O'Reillyhad seconded the resolution, for Mr.O'Reillywas a sensible man——Mr.Lenehan.—I deny that (laughter).Mr.Byrnesaid it was all braggadocio, and a desire to obtain notoriety, that made Mr.Lenehanbring this forward.
Mr.Lenehanmoved, in accordance with notice—"That the pauper inmate nurses be removed from the male and female Roman Catholic hospitals, and also from the Protestant male and female hospitals, and trained nurses engaged to look after the sick poor." During the course of a lengthened address, delivered in a remarkably loud voice, he urged that the present system of nursing was bad, that militiamen were employed for the purpose, and that reliance could not be placed on the paupers at present engaged in the hospitals. He said that there were at present 184 inmates employed in nursing, and he proposed to put a trained nurse in each ward, that would be 43, and two nurses in each hospital, that would be 8, or 51 in all. These 51 nurses, at £30 a year, or 11s.6d., would be a little over £29 (laughter), or a saving of some shillings (laughter).
Mr.Sykes.—What in the world is the meaning of that calculation?
Mr.Lenehanrepeated his statement amidst great laughter.
Mr.O'Reillysaid he would second the motion for the sake of discussion, as Mr.Lenehancomplained that his resolutions were never seconded.
Mr.Byrnewas surprised that Mr.O'Reillyhad seconded the resolution, for Mr.O'Reillywas a sensible man——
Mr.Lenehan.—I deny that (laughter).
Mr.Byrnesaid it was all braggadocio, and a desire to obtain notoriety, that made Mr.Lenehanbring this forward.
After this no one will be surprised to hear that Mr.Lenehanwithdrew his motion. It must be a terrible thing to be accused of braggadocio and a desire to obtain notoriety.
And finally here is an estimate of Mr.Balfourfrom a correspondent of the BirminghamDaily Gazette:—
The Unionist Majority.—To the Editor of the "Daily Gazette."—Sir,—Among the many causes assigned for the above, no one, so far as I know, has suggested the following one. Is it too much to hope that the statesmanlike character of Mr.A. J. Balfourhas influenced greatly the country at large? His simple dignity, both in majority and minority, his pluck and energy as Irish Secretary, are still remembered. TheSpectatorpublishes an article on "Mr. Balfour's Benignity," and at the reception given to the Medical Association at the Imperial Institute he and his sister were received with deafening cheers. Lastly, we shall hear nothing from himself. Surely all parties recognize and admire such a statesman, and willingly confide in his future.—An Outsider.
The Unionist Majority.—To the Editor of the "Daily Gazette."—Sir,—Among the many causes assigned for the above, no one, so far as I know, has suggested the following one. Is it too much to hope that the statesmanlike character of Mr.A. J. Balfourhas influenced greatly the country at large? His simple dignity, both in majority and minority, his pluck and energy as Irish Secretary, are still remembered. TheSpectatorpublishes an article on "Mr. Balfour's Benignity," and at the reception given to the Medical Association at the Imperial Institute he and his sister were received with deafening cheers. Lastly, we shall hear nothing from himself. Surely all parties recognize and admire such a statesman, and willingly confide in his future.—An Outsider.
But why are we to hear nothing from Mr.Balfourhimself. As one who likes good speaking on either side of the House, I hope we may hear a great deal from Mr.Balfour.
There have been great doings at Cirencester. At afête(and gala) in EarlBathurst'spark, the chief attraction was the announcement of a captive balloon, which was expected to make trips during the afternoon. Unfortunately, however, the gas-main in the Tetbury Road, where the balloon was filled, was not so large as was desirable, and the result was that the balloon was not filled till after five o'clock. It was then taken to the scene of thefêteat Pope's Seat, where every effort was made to make up for lost time. The Hon.B. Bathurst, M.P., the newly elected member for the division, made a short speech from the balloon, being received with loud cheers. The "right away" ascent was afterwards abandoned. The evening, which proved fine, closed with an excellent display of fireworks by ProfessorWells.
If a captive balloon should refuse to inflate,And should linger too long flopping loose on the grass,Just insert an M.P. in the car to orate,And you'll promptly secure an abundance of gas.
If a captive balloon should refuse to inflate,And should linger too long flopping loose on the grass,Just insert an M.P. in the car to orate,And you'll promptly secure an abundance of gas.
If a captive balloon should refuse to inflate,And should linger too long flopping loose on the grass,Just insert an M.P. in the car to orate,And you'll promptly secure an abundance of gas.
TO TRICKASTA.
A note of pain was sounded when you saidThat we had better never meet again.My nerves were shattered and my heart was lead—A note of pain.Far other had it been when down the laneYou graciously inclined your pretty headTo listen to me. Yes, I was insaneEnough to hope that one day we might wed,Until your double-dyed deceit grew plain.I like to think my letter was, when read,A note of pain.
A note of pain was sounded when you saidThat we had better never meet again.My nerves were shattered and my heart was lead—A note of pain.
Far other had it been when down the laneYou graciously inclined your pretty headTo listen to me. Yes, I was insaneEnough to hope that one day we might wed,Until your double-dyed deceit grew plain.I like to think my letter was, when read,A note of pain.
"Sitting Room Only."—The election of SirL. Lyellfor Orkney and Shetland on Saturday last brought the General Election to a conclusion. By this final result the House became quite full, if not quiteFullerton.