PUNCH AT PLAY.

LEWIS CARROLL'S SUGGESTION.LEWIS CARROLL'S SUGGESTION, AND MY SKETCH OF IT INPUNCH.

"Well, strange to say, Lockwood, I've been seriously thinking of it, but I don't know how one should begin."

"Don't you?" cried Lockwood from the other end of the table. "What do you say to this, nearly killing my friend Harry Furniss!" And my caricature was produced and handed down from guest to guest, to the chagrin of the host. That was Lockwood's version of the coincidence.

Suggestions forPunchcame to me from most unexpected quarters, but were rarely of any use. Lewis Carroll—like every one else—got excited over the Gladstonian crisis, and Sir William Harcourt's head to Lewis Carroll was much the same as Charles the First's to Mr. Dick in "David Copperfield," for I find in several letters references to Sir William.

"ReGladstone's head and its recent growth, couldn't you make a picture of it for the 'Essence of Parliament'? I would call it 'Toby's Dream of A.D. 1900,' and have Gladstone addressing the House, with his enormous head supported by Harcourt on one side, and Parnell on the other."

This suggestion is the only one I adopted. Strange to say, neither Gladstone, Parnell, nor Lewis Carroll lived to see 1900.

"Is that anecdote in the paperstrue, that some one has sent you a pebble with an accidental (and not a 'doctored') likeness of Harcourt? If so, let me suggest that your mostgracefulcourse of action will be to have it photographed, and to present prints of it to any authors whose books you may at any time chance to illustrate!"

This is the "anecdote":

"Someone found on the seashore the other day a pebble moulded exactly on the lines of Mr. Furniss' portrait of Sir William Harcourt."

NATURE'S PUZZLE PORTRAIT.NATURE'S PUZZLE PORTRAIT.

Other notices were in verse. This fromVanity Fairis the best:

"For Fame, 'tis said, Sir William craves,And to some purpose he has sought her;His face is fashioned by the waves:When will his name be 'writ in water'?"

I lay under a charge of plagiarism. Nature had "invented" my Harcourt portrait, and had been at work upon it probably before I was born; the wild waves had by degrees moulded a shell into the familiar features, and when completed had left the sea-sculptured sketch high and dry on the coast. I now publish, with thanks, a photo-reproduction of the shell (not a pebble) as I received it: it is not in any way "doctored." It is a large, weather-beaten shell.

There is no doubt but that at one time Lewis Carroll studiedPunch, for in one of his earliest letters to me he writes:

"To the best of my recollection, one of the first things that suggested to me the wish to secure your help was a marvellously successful picture inPunchof a House of Lords entirely composed of Harcourts, where the figures took all possible attitudes, and gave all possible views of the face; yet each was a quite unmistakable Sir William Harcourt!"

Again he refers toPunch(March, 1890):

"A wish has been expressed in our Common Room (Christ's Church, Oxford), where we take in and bindPunch, that we could have 'keys' to the portraits in the Bishop of Lincoln's Trial and the 'ciphers' in Parliament" (a Parliamentary design of mine, "The House all Sixes and Sevens"). "Will you confer that favour on our Club? If you would give me them done roughly, I will procure copies of those two numbers, and subscribe the names in small MS. print, and have the pages bound in to face the pictures. The simplest way would be for you to put numbers on the faces, and send a list of names numbered to correspond."

Yet a few years brought a change (October, 1894):

"No doubt it is by your direction that three numbers of your new periodical have come to me. With many thanks for your kind thought, I will beg you not to waste your bounties on so unfit a recipient, for I have neither time nor taste for any such literature. I have much more work yet to do than I am likely to have life to do it in—and my taste for comic papers isdefunct. We take inPunchin our Common Room, but I never look at it!"

Hardly a generous remark to make to aPunchman who had illustrated two of his books, and considering that Sir John Tenniel had done so much to make the author's reputation, andPunchhad always been so friendly; but this is a bygone.

ell, Sir John, the Grand Old Man ofPunch, the evergreen, the ever-delightful Sir John, has earned a night's repose after all his long day of glorious work and good-fellowship. "A great artist and a great gentleman": truer words were never spoken. It seems but yesterday he and I took our rides together; but yesterday he and I and poor Milliken—threePunchmen in a boat—were "squaring up" at Cookham after a week's delightful boating holiday on the Thames.

"There sat three oarsmen under a tree,Down, a-down, a-down—hey down!They were as puzzled as puzzled could be,With a down;And one of them said to his mate,'We've got these mems in a doose of a state,'With a down derry, derry down!

"Oh, they were wild, these oarsmen three,Down, a-down, a-down—hey down!Especially one with the white puggree,With a down;For it's precious hard to divide by threeA sum on whose total you can't agree,With a down derry, derry down!"They bit their pencils and tore their hair,Down, a-down, a-down—hey down!But those blessed bills, they wouldn't come square,With a down;'Midst muddle and smudge it is hard to fixIf a six is a nine or a nine is a six,With a down derry, derry down!"A crumpled account from a pocket of flannelDown, a-down, a-down—hey down!With dirt in dabs, and the rain in a channel,With a down,Is worse to decipher than uniform text,Oh, that is the verdict of oarsmen vext,With a down derry, derry down!"A man in a boat his ease will take,Down, a-down, a-down—hey down!But financial conscience at last will wake,With a down;Then Nemesis proddeth the prodigal soulWhen he finds that the parts are much more than the whole,With a down derry, derry down!"Those oarsmen are having a deuce of a time,Down, a-down, a-down—hey down!The man in the puggree is ripe for crime,With a down.Now heaven send every boating manFor keeping accounts a more excellent plan,With a down derry, derry down!"

"They bit their pencils and tore their hair,Down, a-down, a-down—hey down!But those blessed bills, they wouldn't come square,With a down;'Midst muddle and smudge it is hard to fixIf a six is a nine or a nine is a six,With a down derry, derry down!

"A crumpled account from a pocket of flannelDown, a-down, a-down—hey down!With dirt in dabs, and the rain in a channel,With a down,Is worse to decipher than uniform text,Oh, that is the verdict of oarsmen vext,With a down derry, derry down!

"A man in a boat his ease will take,Down, a-down, a-down—hey down!But financial conscience at last will wake,With a down;Then Nemesis proddeth the prodigal soulWhen he finds that the parts are much more than the whole,With a down derry, derry down!

"Those oarsmen are having a deuce of a time,Down, a-down, a-down—hey down!The man in the puggree is ripe for crime,With a down.Now heaven send every boating manFor keeping accounts a more excellent plan,With a down derry, derry down!"

So pencilled poet Milliken. "The man in the puggree" is Sir John,—ripe for many years to come, and when he has another banquet, may I be there to see.

The Two Pins Clubwas aPunchinstitution.

Original notice of

"THE TWO PINS CLUB.

"There are Coaching Clubs, Four-in-hand Clubs, Tandem Clubs, and Sporting Clubs of all sorts, but there is noEquestrian Club."The object of the present proposed Club is to supply this want."The Members will meet on Sundays, and ride to some place within easy reach of town: there lunch, spend a few hours, and return."Due notice will be given of each 'Meet,' and replies must be sent in to the Secretary by Wednesday afternoon at latest. When it is considered necessary, Luncheon will be ordered beforehand for the party, and those who have neglected to reply by the time fixed, and who do not attend the Meet, will be charged with their share of the Luncheon."There will be other Meets besides those on Sundays, which will be arranged by the Members from time to time."The title of the Club is taken from the names of the two most celebrated English Equestrians known to 'the road,' viz.:—'DICK TURPIN'and'JOHN GILPIN.'"The Members of 'THE TWO PINS' will represent all the dash of the one and all the respectability of the other."The original Members at present are:—

"There are Coaching Clubs, Four-in-hand Clubs, Tandem Clubs, and Sporting Clubs of all sorts, but there is noEquestrian Club.

"The object of the present proposed Club is to supply this want.

"The Members will meet on Sundays, and ride to some place within easy reach of town: there lunch, spend a few hours, and return.

"Due notice will be given of each 'Meet,' and replies must be sent in to the Secretary by Wednesday afternoon at latest. When it is considered necessary, Luncheon will be ordered beforehand for the party, and those who have neglected to reply by the time fixed, and who do not attend the Meet, will be charged with their share of the Luncheon.

"There will be other Meets besides those on Sundays, which will be arranged by the Members from time to time.

"The title of the Club is taken from the names of the two most celebrated English Equestrians known to 'the road,' viz.:—

'DICK TURPIN'

and

'JOHN GILPIN.'

"The Members of 'THE TWO PINS' will represent all the dash of the one and all the respectability of the other.

"The original Members at present are:—

MR. F. C. BURNAND.MR. JOHN TENNIEL.MR. LINLEY SAMBOURNE.MR. HARRY FURNISS.MR. R. LEHMANN.

"It is not proposed at first to exceed the number of twelve. The other names down for invitation to become members are—

MR. FRANK LOCKWOOD, Q.C., M.P.MR. JOHN HARE.[3]SIR CHARLES RUSSELL, Q.C., M.P.

"We hope you will join. The eight Members can then settle a convenient day for the first Meet, and inaugurate the TWO PINS CLUB.[3]"N.B. No hounds."

"We hope you will join. The eight Members can then settle a convenient day for the first Meet, and inaugurate the TWO PINS CLUB.

[3]"N.B. No hounds."

LORD RUSSELL'S ACCEPTANCE TO DINE WITH ME.LORD RUSSELL'S ACCEPTANCE TO DINE WITH ME.

The Two Pins Club was started in 1890, and flourished until its President, Lord Russell, was elevated to the Bench. My only claim for distinction in connection with it rests on the fact that I was the only member who, except when I was in mid-Atlantic on my return from the States, never missed a meet. Were the Club now a going concern, I would, of course, refrain from mentioning it, but as it is referred to in the "History ofPunch" by Mr. Spielmann, and in "John Hare, Comedian," by Mr. Pemberton, I may be pardoned and also forgiven for repeating the one joke ever made public in connection with this remarkable Club.

One afternoon our cavalcade was approaching Weybridge, which had been the scene of the boyish pranks of one of our members. To the amusement of us all, this brother Two Pins, as reminiscences of the district were recalled to him by one object and another, grew terribly excited.

"Ah, my boys, there is the dear old oak tree under which I smoked my first cigarette! And there, where the new church stands, I shot my first snipe. Dear me, how all is altered! I wonder if old Sir Henry Tomkins still lives in the Lodge there, and what has become of the Rector's pretty daughter?" etc.

Sir Frank Lockwood, observing lettering on the side of a house, "General Stores," casually asked our excited reminiscent friend if he "knew a General Stores about these parts?"

"General Stores! Of course I do, but he was only a Captain when I lived here!"

When the members lunched at The Durdans our host and honorary member, Lord Rosebery, remarked that it was a Club of "one joke and one horse!" the fact being that we all drove over from Tadworth, Lord Russell's residence, where we were staying, with the exception of Lord Russell himself, who rode. We had, of course, each a horse: some of the members a great deal more than one, but we were careful to trot out one joke between us: "General Stores" became our general and only story.

The first public announcement respecting the Club appeared in theDaily Telegraph, the 4th of May, 1891:

"The T.P.C. held its first annual meeting at the 'Star and Garter Hotel' yesterday morning. There was a full attendance of members. Under the careful and conciliatory guidance of the President, Sir Charles Russell, supported mainly by Mr. F. C. Burnand, Mr. Frank Lockwood, Mr. Harry Furniss, Mr. Edward Lawson, Mr. Charles Mathews, Mr. John Hare, Mr. Linley Sambourne, and Mr. R. Lehmann (hon. sec.),the customary business was satisfactorily transacted, and the principal subjects for discussion were dealt with in a spirit of intelligent self-control. Mr. Arthur Russell was unanimously elected a member of the association, which in point of numbers is now complete."

This sketch is à propos of Mr. Linley Sambourne's portrait in "Vanity Fair." Note refers to his being made Solicitor-General.

But the object of the Club being carefully concealed, much mystery surrounds its name. Few were aware that it was merely a band of "Sontag-Reiters." Our hon. sec., being at the time prominent in politics, received congratulations from those who imagined the T.P.C. was a political association, and much wonderment was excited by the decidedly enigmatical appellationof the small and select society. Sir Edward Lawson showed marked ingenuity in retaining the mystery by his paragraphs in his paper. The first meet of our second season was the only one I missed during the years the Club existed:

"The first meeting of the T.P.C. for the season of 1892 took place yesterday at the 'Star and Garter Hotel,' under the presidency of Sir Charles Russell, who was assisted in the performance of his duties by Mr. Frank Lockwood, Mr. Linley Sambourne, Mr. Edward Lawson, and Mr C. W. Mathews. The arrangements for the season were completed, and a digest was made of the subjects which claimed the immediate consideration of the members. The President called attention to a delay which had occurred in the fulfilment of certain artistic duties which had been entrusted to Mr. Harry Furniss and Mr. Linley Sambourne, and which had been retarded in their accomplishment by Mr. Furniss' voyage to America. But it was understood that immediate attention would now be bestowed upon the work in hand; and the remainder of the business was of a routine character."

MR. LINLEY SAMBOURNE.MR. LINLEY SAMBOURNE.

The "artistic duties" referred to, I have no recollection of, but I know that at our preliminary meeting, when all matters, artistic and otherwise, were discussed and arranged, the two following important resolutions were proposed, seconded, and carried unanimously:—

"That Mr. Rudolph Lehmann be elected Permanent Secretary, and that the duty of sending out all notices convening the Meets of the T.P.C., as well as all arrangements connected with the Club, be entrusted to him; and that every notice of meeting be posted and prepaid by him eight lunar, or at least three calendar, days before the date of each Meet; and further, that records in a neat and clerkly style of each and every Meet be faithfully kept by the said Secretary, and be at all times open for the inspection of each and every member of the T.P.C.""That Mr. Linley Sambourne shall provide at his own expense the notepaper and envelopes required for the business of the Club, and shall invent and draw a design, which design, also at his own expense, he shall cause to be stamped or otherwise engraved on the said notepaper and envelopes, and shall cause the said notepaper so stamped or engravedto be forwarded to the Perpetual President, the Permanent Secretary, and the other members, for use in connection only with the business of the Club.""It was further resolved that all maps and charts be kept at the Secretary's Office, and in the event of any dispute, the Ordnance Map or the Admiralty Chart shall be decisive."

"That Mr. Linley Sambourne shall provide at his own expense the notepaper and envelopes required for the business of the Club, and shall invent and draw a design, which design, also at his own expense, he shall cause to be stamped or otherwise engraved on the said notepaper and envelopes, and shall cause the said notepaper so stamped or engravedto be forwarded to the Perpetual President, the Permanent Secretary, and the other members, for use in connection only with the business of the Club."

"It was further resolved that all maps and charts be kept at the Secretary's Office, and in the event of any dispute, the Ordnance Map or the Admiralty Chart shall be decisive."

But during the existence of the Club there never was any cause to refer to an Ordnance Map or Admiralty Chart. There never was a Secretary's Office, nor did Mr. Linley Sambourne either design or provide the notepaper or envelopes, nor are there any records in existence, either printed or written "in a neat and clerkly style," of the merry meetings of this unique Club. It ran its delightful and dangerous course, its wild career, unmarred by any dispute or accident. The last "meet" was to dine Lord Russell on his elevation to the Bench.

PORTRAIT OF ME AS A MEMBER OF THE TWO PINS CLUB.PORTRAIT OF ME AS A MEMBER OF THE TWO PINS CLUB,BY LINLEY SAMBOURNE.

I shall never forget the first occasion on which I saw the late Lord Russell. It was in the old days when the Law Courts were in Westminster,—and I, in search of "character," strangely enough found myself wandering about the Divorce Court, where so many characters are lost. It was acause célèbre,—the divorce suit of a most distinguished Presbyterian cleric who charged his wife, the co-respondent being the stable-boy. Russell (then plain Mr.) was for the clergyman, and when I entered the crowded court, he was in the midst of his appealto the jury, working himself up to a pitch of eloquence, appealing to all to look upon the saintly figure of the man of prayer (the plaintiff, who was playing the part by kneeling and clasping his hands), and asking the jury to scorn all idea of his client having any desire to free himself of his wife so as to marry his pretty governess, or cousin, or whomever it was suggested he most particularly admired. Russell had arrived at quoting Scripture,—he was at his best, austere, eloquent, persuasive, an orator, a gentleman, a great advocate, and as sanctimonious as his kneeling client.

THE LATE LORD RUSSELL.THE LATE LORD RUSSELL, THE PRESIDENT OF THE TWO PINS CLUB.

He was interrupted by someone handing him a telegram. As he opened it he said, waving it towards his client, "This may be a message from Heaven to that saint,—ah, gentlemen of the jury, the words so pure—so—so——" (he reads the telegram).

"D——! D——! D——!" He crushed the telegram in his hand, and with an angry gesture threw it away. Although his words were drowned by the "laughter in Court," his gestures and face showed his chagrin and disgust. The Grand National had been run half-an-hour before.

Years afterwards, on his own lawn at Tadworth, I told him of this incident, and asked him what the contents of that telegram were. He declared I was wrong, such an incident never occurred in his career. I convinced him I was right—it was the first time I saw him, and every detail was vividly impressed upon my memory. After dinner he came to me and said, "Furniss, I have been thinking over that incident. You are quite right—it has all come back to me. I lost my temper, I recollect, because I had wired to my boy over there to make a bet for me on an outsider at a long price; when at lunch, Iheard the horse had won. I was delighted, and therefore at my best when I addressed the jury. The telegram was from my boy to say that he forgot to put the money on!"

Riding has caused my appearance in a Police Court, but not as a member of the Two Pins Club. In October, 1895, I was returning from my usual ride before breakfast, accompanied by my little daughter; we turned into the terrace in which we live, and our horses cantered up the hill about 120 yards. As we were dismounting, a Police Inspector passed, addressing me by name, and in a most offensive tone declared that he would summon me, as I had been cautioned before for furious riding. This remark was so absolutely untrue that I met the summons, and the Inspector in the Court made three distinct statements on oath: That I spurred my horse (when cross-examined by me, he gave a minute description of my spurs); that I charged up the hill 250 yards at the rate of sixteen miles an hour; and that I had been cautioned before for the same thing. Now, I have never been cautioned in my life; the distance I went up the hill is 120 yards, and no horse could get up any pace in that distance; and I do not wear spurs, although two constables swore I did.

The magistrate, face to face with these three facts, looked the picture of misery. It was evident to him, as it must be evident to every fair-minded man, that the police were in the wrong. And when the magistrate was thinking out this dilemma, I made a fatal mistake. I gave my reason for appearing as a sacrifice on my part to show the magistrate the sort of evidence upon which poor cabmen and others are fined and made to suffer. The magistrate, Mr. Plowden, waxed very wroth, and as he could not punish me, and would not reprimand the police, I was asked to pay the costs of the summons, which was withdrawn. The late Mr. Montagu Williams, who sat in the Marylebone Police Court, the court in which I was charged with furious riding, gave it as his private opinion that the longer a policeman was in the service the less he could rely upon his word.

FURIOUS RIDING."FURIOUS RIDING." SKETCH BY F. C. GOULD.From the "Westminster Gazette."

This case led to all sorts of trouble. I was assailed by people in the street, strangers to me, for "riding over children." Letters came from all sorts of societies—Cruelty to Animals, and other excellent institutions. I found people measuring the terrace; others riding up it to see if it were possible to get the pace (which it is not), but few knew the truth. The constable when I left the court remarked to me, "I'll tache ye to caricature Oirishmen in Parleymint!" However, I was repaid by the humour the incident gave rise to in the imagination of my brother workers on the Press. Mr. F. C. Gould made this capital sketch, and others portrayed my crime in verse. The following was written to me by one of London's most celebrated editors, and has never been published before:

"H. Furniss was an artist gentOf credit and renown,Who'd ride a horse up Primrose HillWith any man in town."The morn was fine as morn could beUpon last Thursday week,And, like the early morn, H. F.Was up before the beak."(Full little dreamed that worthy cit,Some dozen mornings henceHe would be 'up before the beak'In quite another sense.)"Upon two tits of pranksome mood,The gallant Lika JokoAnd Likajokalina rode,'Desipere in loco.'"'Cantare pares' rode the pair,Ad equitatum nati,'But to a bobby's summons not'Respondere parati.'"So 'appy rode the blithesome pair,They scoured the hill and plain,And warming with their morning's work,Rode hotly home again."But by the slope of Primrose HillThe rude Inspector RossBeheld H. Furniss canter upUpon his foaming hoss."'Look 'ere, young man,' says he to him,'There are some children dearThat by the ridin' of you folkDo go in bod'ly fear."'Your hasting steed pull up, I say!S'welp me, draw your rein!The innocents abroad, young man,Are frightened by you twain."'Look at yer smokin' job 'oss 'ere—I seen you job 'is flank!'E's well nigh done—tyke 'im away,And back upon the rank.'"H. Furniss fixed him with his eye;His brow was awful cross;He Kyrled his lip contemptuous-likeAt this rude man of Ross."'The spirit of my gallant cob,Ruffian, you shall not squelch;I ride nor Scotch nor Irish hot,But Furniss-heated Welsh."'Mine and my daughter's gentle paceCould not affright a foundling;Be off, and peep down areas, orMove on some harmless groundling!'"The Inspector glared: 'Come, Mr. F.,We can't stand this no longer;I summons you to Marylebone'—(He muttered something stronger).*****"Good Mr. Plowden heard the charge,As two policemen swore it;Then heard H. Furniss' defence,And sagely pondered o'er it."'The Inspector swears you galloped up;You swear you merely trotted:My own opinion in this caseIs, as usual, Gordian-knotted."'Now Gordian knots were tied to beBy magistrates divided;We cut them—and the severed endsDo much as once the tied did."'In this case, add the paces up,And then divide by two:A canter is the quotient;I think that that should do."'A sound decision that will pleaseBoth parties this I trust is;It is a fine distinction, butAvoids the fires of justice."'You, Mr. Furniss, must disburseTwo bob costs to my till,And promise me to try no morePrimrose babes to kill."'And all in Court, take warning byThe furious Canterer's fate,And go not up the Primrose pathAt such an awful rate."'But if your sluggish livers youMust vigorously shake,"Vigor's Horse Exercise at Home"(Vide Prospectus) take.'"

"H. Furniss was an artist gentOf credit and renown,Who'd ride a horse up Primrose HillWith any man in town.

"The morn was fine as morn could beUpon last Thursday week,And, like the early morn, H. F.Was up before the beak.

"(Full little dreamed that worthy cit,Some dozen mornings henceHe would be 'up before the beak'In quite another sense.)

"Upon two tits of pranksome mood,The gallant Lika JokoAnd Likajokalina rode,'Desipere in loco.'

"'Cantare pares' rode the pair,Ad equitatum nati,'But to a bobby's summons not'Respondere parati.'

"So 'appy rode the blithesome pair,They scoured the hill and plain,And warming with their morning's work,Rode hotly home again.

"But by the slope of Primrose HillThe rude Inspector RossBeheld H. Furniss canter upUpon his foaming hoss.

"'Look 'ere, young man,' says he to him,'There are some children dearThat by the ridin' of you folkDo go in bod'ly fear.

"'Your hasting steed pull up, I say!S'welp me, draw your rein!The innocents abroad, young man,Are frightened by you twain.

"'Look at yer smokin' job 'oss 'ere—I seen you job 'is flank!'E's well nigh done—tyke 'im away,And back upon the rank.'

"H. Furniss fixed him with his eye;His brow was awful cross;He Kyrled his lip contemptuous-likeAt this rude man of Ross.

"'The spirit of my gallant cob,Ruffian, you shall not squelch;I ride nor Scotch nor Irish hot,But Furniss-heated Welsh.

"'Mine and my daughter's gentle paceCould not affright a foundling;Be off, and peep down areas, orMove on some harmless groundling!'

"The Inspector glared: 'Come, Mr. F.,We can't stand this no longer;I summons you to Marylebone'—(He muttered something stronger).

"Good Mr. Plowden heard the charge,As two policemen swore it;Then heard H. Furniss' defence,And sagely pondered o'er it.

"'The Inspector swears you galloped up;You swear you merely trotted:My own opinion in this caseIs, as usual, Gordian-knotted.

"'Now Gordian knots were tied to beBy magistrates divided;We cut them—and the severed endsDo much as once the tied did.

"'In this case, add the paces up,And then divide by two:A canter is the quotient;I think that that should do.

"'A sound decision that will pleaseBoth parties this I trust is;It is a fine distinction, butAvoids the fires of justice.

"'You, Mr. Furniss, must disburseTwo bob costs to my till,And promise me to try no morePrimrose babes to kill.

"'And all in Court, take warning byThe furious Canterer's fate,And go not up the Primrose pathAt such an awful rate.

"'But if your sluggish livers youMust vigorously shake,"Vigor's Horse Exercise at Home"(Vide Prospectus) take.'"

As a matter of fact, the magistrate did not look at the charge-sheet, or know me, or catch my name, or he might have made his usual joke at my expense in another way.

MY PORTRAIT, BY F. C. BURNAND.MY PORTRAIT, BY F. C. BURNAND.

Mr. Burnand and I rode a great deal together. Avoiding the Row, my editor preferred to ride to Hampstead, Harrow, or Mill Hill, calling for me on the way. Once, when I could not ride, he wrote: "Very sorry to hear of your being laid up with a cold; it shows what even the Wisest and Best amongst us are liable to. The idea is monstrous of aCold Furniss. Acoal'dfurniss is satisfactory. Don't take too much out of yourself with riding. 'He speaks to thee who hath not got a horse'—Shakespeare." Then follows later a specimen of his irrepressible good humour:

22 Nov."Alas and alack!I've got a hack,But the weather's been such,I've not got on his back."I got no jogBecause of the fog,And up to twelve,In breeches and boots,Which I had to shelveAnd recover my foots.I lunched at the 'G'(So there was, you see,OneGeefor me)."Then I came backAnd wrote some playBut oh, good lack!No riding to-day.If foggy here,At Ramsgate 'twas clear."Alas and alack!I'll sell my hack,Much to my sorrow.I'll ride to-morrow,That is, if fine,But not at nine.I shall not start, if I'm aliveAnd have the heart, till ten forty-five."Away to parks I'll trotTo get a little hot,Also to get a little dirty,And with you be 11.30."Till one,Then done.Back to Lunch,Then to Office ofPunch.This my plan, you'll be happy to learn, isAt your disposal, Mr. Furniss."

22 Nov.

"Alas and alack!I've got a hack,But the weather's been such,I've not got on his back.

"I got no jogBecause of the fog,And up to twelve,In breeches and boots,Which I had to shelveAnd recover my foots.I lunched at the 'G'(So there was, you see,OneGeefor me).

"Then I came backAnd wrote some playBut oh, good lack!No riding to-day.If foggy here,At Ramsgate 'twas clear.

"Alas and alack!I'll sell my hack,Much to my sorrow.I'll ride to-morrow,That is, if fine,But not at nine.I shall not start, if I'm aliveAnd have the heart, till ten forty-five.

"Away to parks I'll trotTo get a little hot,Also to get a little dirty,And with you be 11.30.

"Till one,Then done.Back to Lunch,Then to Office ofPunch.This my plan, you'll be happy to learn, isAt your disposal, Mr. Furniss."

But excursions in search of material my editor and I had to do on foot, and were not so pleasing; still, Mr. Burnand always managed to have his little joke in all circumstances.

One day he and I were "doing" the picture shows in the interests of Mr. Punch. At one o'clock, feeling jaded and tired, a retreat to the Garrick Club to lunch was suggested. "Happy thought!" said my editor. "Better still, here is an invitation for two to the Exhibition of French Cookery at Willis's Rooms. Capital lunch there, I should think." So off we went, anticipating arecherchélunch. Fancy our chagrin on arrival to find cooks galore, discussing their art, but, alas! their art, like the high art of the Masters of the Brush in our National Gallery, was all under glass! Aggravatingly appetising, but absolutely uninteresting to the two hungry art critics. We soon were in a cab and at the Garrick. As we pulled up, the greatestgourmetof the Club, that clever actor, Arthur Cecil, greeted us:

"Hallo, Frank, where have you two come from?"

"Oh, Arthur,suchluck! Furniss and I have just had the mostrecherchélunch you could imagine."

"H'm—hullo—h'm—where? The deuce you have! Lucky dogs! Eh, what was it like?"

"Oh, you can see it for yourself; it's going on now at the French Cookery Exhibition in Willis's Rooms. Special invitation—ah, here's a ticket."

"Thanks, old chap! what a treat! I'm off there! No, no; you fellows mustn't pay the cab—I'll do that. Here, driver—Willis's Rooms—look sharp!"

Arthur Cecil undoubtedly was a quaint fellow and a clever actor, but he had an insatiable appetite. One would never have thought so, judging from appearance: his clever, clean-cut face, his small, thin figure, together with the little hand-bag he always carried, rather suggested a lawyer or a clergyman. His eccentricity was a combination of absent-mindedness and irritability. The latter failing, he told me, would at times take complete control of him: for instance, he had to leave a train before his journey was completed, as he felt it impossible to sit in the carriage and look at the alarm bell without pulling it. I have watched him seated in the smoking-room of the club we both attended, in which the star-light in the centre of the ceiling was shaded by a rather primitive screen of stretched tissue paper, gazing at it for half-an-hour at a time, and eventually taking all the coins out of his pocket to throw them one after another at the immediate object of his irritation. He frequently succeeded in penetrating the screen, the coins remaining on the top of it, to the delight of the astonished waiters.

His eccentricity—perhaps I ought to say in this case his absent-mindedness—is illustrated by an incident which happened on the morning of the funeral of a great friend of his. As Cecil (his real name was Blount) was having his bath, he was suddenly inspired with some idea for a song; so, pulling his sponge-bath into the adjoining sitting-room closer to the piano, he placed a chair in it, and sat down to try it over. A friend, rushing in to fetch him to the funeral, found him so seated, singing and playing, balancing the dripping sponge on the top of his head.

THE PICTURE SHOWS.THE PICTURE SHOWS.Design from "Punch."

To feed upon one's own kind is a custom which, like so many other vestiges of a previous civilisation, seems in the present day to have a fair chance of revival. We have long had with us the City Cannibal, the Fleet Street Cannibal, the Dramatic, Literary and Musical Cannibals. Latterly the Society Cannibal has come more distinctly to the front. Then why, I long ago asked myself, should there not be the Cannibal of the etching pen and the brush? Especially as the writhing victims of those mighty instruments appear to be so enamoured of their fate as to besiege that comic slaughter-house, the studio of the caricaturist, and with persistent cries of "Eat us! eat us! Our turn next!"solicit the "favour of not being forgotten" in his next batch of "subjects."

It may be a revelation to many of my readers, but I can assure them it is a fact, that it is only in very exceptional cases that artists object to having their pictures caricatured. Indeed, many of the leading painters have given me to understand that the omission of their work from my sketches would be anything but agreeable to them, although, when the desired travesties of their pictures appear, they may pretend to be highly indignant. There is one Royal Academician of my acquaintance who has so keen an appreciation of humour that he never loses an opportunity of giving me a hint when his magnifying glass has detected the slightest element of the grotesque in a fellow artist's work. And that most amiable of men, the late Frank Holl, could never refrain, when occasion offered, from directing my attention to the humorous points of his sitters, although I need hardly add that no trace of his having perceived them was ever apparent in any of his works. Do artists object? Well, inPunch, May, 1889, du Maurier touches this point:

"What our artist (the awfully funny one) has to put up with:Brown: 'I say, look here! What the deuce do you mean by caricaturing my pictures—hay?'Jones: 'Yes, confound you! andnot caricaturing mine!'"

I have even known artists so anxious to be parodied that, ifthey happened to have a vein of humour in their pencils, they would actually send me caricatures of their own pictures. Even poor Fred Barnard once sent me an admirable sketch, caricaturing an excellent portrait of his three children which he had painted for the Royal Academy, where it duly appeared. Others less humorously imaginative perhaps have written to me assuring me of the great pleasure which would have been theirs had they themselves conceived the idea which my caricature of their work supplied.

Although, however, there are so few artists who object to having their pictures caricatured, there is, of course, another side to the question. It is indeed most true that nothing kills like ridicule, and in the course of my experience I have found it is just as easy unconsciously to inflict an injury with my pen and Indian ink as it is to do good. Let us suppose, for instance, that a great painter has just finished a very sentimental work—a picture so brimful of beauty and pathos that it appeals to everybody, myself included. As I stand before it, and admire, it is impossible perhaps for me torestraina sympathetic tear from making its appearance in, at all events, one of my eyes. But how about the other? Ah! with regard to that other eye, I must confess it is very differently employed, and, superior to my control, is searching the canvas high and low for that "something ridiculous" which, except in the case of the very greatest masters, is always there. Now what ensues? The purchaser of that picture, who, mark you, unlike myself, regarded it and admired it withbothof his eyes, congratulates himself upon its acquisition. I have known it for a fact, however—to my regret—that after the publication of the caricature the purchaser was never able to look at his picture again through his own glasses, and bitterly regretted his outlay.

THE GREAT BACCARAT CASE.THE GREAT BACCARAT CASE. MY SKETCH IN PENCIL MADE IN COURT, AND CONGRATULATORY NOTE FROM THE EDITOR OFPUNCH.

An art publisher with whom I was acquainted agreed to pay a heavy sum for the copyright of a work of a well-known and popular painter, and after the caricature had appeared inPunchhe resolved to forego the publication of the engraving from it by which he had hoped to recoup his expenditure, because he considered that the sobriety of the work was so completely destroyed as to preclude the possibility of sale; and an eminent sculptor, who was responsible for a well-known statue which I caricatured some years ago when it appeared in the Royal Academy, has told me, since it was put up in the Metropolis, that he has actually meditated replacing it by another piece, owing to the ludicrous suggestion affixed to it.

On the other hand, the caricature of an important work is sometimes received in the proper spirit. Here is a letter from Professor Herkomer, with reference to my caricature of the work of our greatest art genius, Alfred Gilbert, R.A.:

Of course, the caricaturing of pictures has its seamy as well as its smooth side. Among the annoyances to which an artist engaged on this description of work is exposed I am inclined to give a prominent place to the fussy and vexatious regulations imposed upon him by the authorities at Burlington House. One would have supposed, for instance, that anyone like myself, who is well-known as merely taking notes for caricature, would have been allowed to consult his own convenience to some extent in making his sketches. But not a bit of it. Thepenalty is something too dreadful if you are found making the slightest note of a picture at the Royal Academy at any other time than on the one appointed day. The object of this regulation is, of course, to protect the copyright of the pictures—a very proper and legitimate precaution; but I submit that a better instance of the spirit of Red Tapeism which is so rampant at Burlington House, and which I am always endeavouring to expose, could not be adduced than the inability of the officials to discriminate between the accredited representative of a paper and the piratical sketcher who is taking notes for an illegitimate purpose. I need hardly say that this regulation is peculiar to the Royal Academy. At the Grosvenor Gallery, which, alas! is no more, the officials about the place understood these matters better, and at all times were pleased to give every facility to the representative of the Press. The polite secretary would give up his chair to me any day I liked to look in, and would often point out to me some comical feature in the surrounding canvases which his sly humour had detected.

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