1. A Hatchet (to pull out and fix inside); 2. A Spear (ditto); 3,4,5. Compartments with handles, to be used as Portmanteau; 6. Shirt Collars and Evening Tie; 7. A Pipe; 8. Tobacco; 9. Cigarette Case; 10. Sandwich Case, Potted Meats, Biscuits, &c.; 11. A Self Air-Loading Bullet Mechanism; 12. Gladstone Bag; 13. Portable Bath and Hammock; 14. Cooking Stove; 15. Cooking Utensils; 16. A Telescope; 17. A Walking Stick; 18. An Umbrella; 19. A Billiard Cue; 20. A Scent Bottle.
Fair Client. "I WANT IT TO BE NICE AND BARONIAL, QUEEN ANNE AND ELIZABETHAN, AND ALL THAT; KIND OF QUAINT AND NUREMBERGY, YOU KNOW—REGULAR OLD ENGLISH, WITH FRENCH WINDOWS OPENING TO THE LAWN, AND VENETIAN BLINDS, AND SORT OF SWISS BALCONIES, AND A LOGGIA. BUT I'M SURE YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!"
HENRY LARRIKIN, who was recently convicted and sentenced to death for the murder of a nursemaid and infant on Shooter's Hill, is now confined in —— Gaol, and is reported to be in excellent spirits. He passes his time in illuminating texts, which he presents to the Governor and Warders, and some of which have been disposed of for enormous sums. A petition has been circulated, and extensively signed, praying for a remission of his sentence, on the ground of provocation, it having since transpired that the infant put out its tongue in passing. Several Jurymen have said, that had this fact been brought before them at the trial, they would have returned a very different verdict. Much sympathy is expressed with LARRIKIN, who is quite a young man. He expresses himself as sanguine of a reprieve.
Monday.—LARRIKIN was informed this afternoon, by the Governor of the Gaol, that the HOME SECRETARY saw no grounds for interfering with the course of the Law, and that the sentence would consequently be carried out on Friday next. Two of the Warders, with whom LARRIKIN is a great favourite, on account of the affability and singular modesty of his demeanour, were deeply affected, but the prisoner himself bore the news with extraordinary fortitude and composure. His sole comment upon the intelligence was, that it was "just his blooming luck." By special favour of the Authorities he is allowed to see the comments of the Press upon his case, in which he takes the keenest interest. A statement that he had on one occasion been introduced to the nursemaid, through whom his career has been so tragically cut short, has caused him the deepest irritation. He wishes it to be distinctly understood that both she and her infant charge were absolute strangers to him.
Wednesday Morning.—LARRIKIN continues wonderfully calm. He is writing his Memoirs, which he has already disposed of to a Newspaper Syndicate for a handsome consideration. Those who have been privileged to see the manuscript report that it reveals traces of unsuspected literary talent, and is marked in places by a genial and genuine humour. LARRIKIN's great regret is that he will be unable to have an opportunity of perusing the press-notices and reviews of this his first essay in authorship, for which he expects a wide popularity.
Thursday.—To-day LARRIKIN received a visit from an old friend, who was visibly moved during the interview, in spite of the prisoner's efforts to console him. "There's nothing to snivel about, old man," he said repeatedly, with a tranquil smile. He then inquired if it was true that there were portraits of him in several of the papers, and was anxious to know if they were like him. He has executed his will, leaving the copyright of his manuscript, his sole assets, to his father, who has been in a comparatively humble position of life, but who will now be raised to a condition of affluence. The father has been interviewed, and stated to a reporter that he has been much gratified by the expressions of sympathy which have been showered upon his son from all sides. This morning a local florist sent LARRIKIN a beautiful wreath, in which the prisoner's initials and those of his victims were tastefully intertwined in violets. LARRIKIN was much touched, and his eyes filled with tears, which, however, he succeeded in repressing by a strong effort. His self-control and courage are the admiration of the officials, by whom he will be greatly missed. All day he has been busy packing up the furniture with which, by special permission, his little cell has been provided by his many admirers, and the interior has already lost much of its late dainty and cosy appearance. LARRIKIN has been whistling a good deal,—though, as the day wore on, the tunes he executed became of a less lively character. Towards evening, however, he recovered his ordinary high spirits, and even danced a "cellar-flap" for the entertainment of his Warders. A telegram has just been handed to him from an anonymous sender, who is understood to be a person of some eminence in bird-stuffing circles, which contained these words—"You are to be hung on my Aunt's silver-wedding day. Keep your pecker up." On reading this message. LARRIKIN came more near to breaking down than he has done hitherto. He has selected the clothes he is to wear on his last semi-public appearance; they consist of a plain black Angora three-button lounge coat, a purple velvet waistcoat, soft doeskin trousers, a lay-down striped collar and dickey, and a light-blue necktie with a glass pin. He has presented his only other jewellery—an oroide ring, set with Bristol diamonds—to the Warder who has been most attentive and devoted to him during his stay in gaol. He is said to have stated that he freely forgave the infant whose insulting conduct provoked his outburst, as he did the nursemaid for not restraining her charge's vivacity. This intimation, at his express desire, will be conveyed to the parents of the deceased, and will doubtless afford them the highest consolation.
Thursday Night, Later.—LARRIKIN is sleeping peacefully. His features—refined by the mental anxiety, and the almost monastic seclusion to which he has been lately subjected—are extremely pleasing, and even handsome, set-off as they are by the clean collar which he has put on in anticipation of his approaching doom. Before sinking into childlike slumber, he listened with evident pleasure to a banjo which was being played outside a public-house in the vicinity of the gaol. The banjoist is now being interviewed, and believes that the air he must have been performing at the time was "The Lost Chord." The scaffold on which the unfortunate LARRIKIN is to expiate his imprudent act is now being erected, but the workmen's hammers have been considerately covered with felt to avoid disturbing the slumberer.
Friday Morning, 9 A.M.—All is now over. The prisoner rose early and made a hearty breakfast, and plainly enjoyed the cigar which he smoked afterwards with his friend the Governor, who seemed to regard the entrance of the executioner as an untimely interruption to the conversation. "You'll have to wait a bit for the rest of that story, Governor," was LARRIKIN's light-hearted comment. The unhappy man then—(Details follow which we prefer to leave to the reader's imagination—he will find them all in the very next special description of such a scene). LARRIKIN was most anxious that it should be widely known that, in his own words, "he was true to himself and the public, and game to the last."
Several reporters were present in the prison-yard, and also a number of persons of distinction, who were only admitted as a great favour. It is said that the prison Authorities were compelled to disappoint thousands who had applied for permission to view the last sad scene.
LARRIKIN's melancholy end will doubtless operate as a warning and an example to many romantic youths, who are only too easily led away by the morbid desire for notoriety, which is so prevalent nowadays, and which is so difficult either to account for, or discourage.—(Special Descriptive Report.)
Monday, November 24.
Charmed to have a visit from OLD MORALITY to-day. Most kind of him to find time to run down, seeing all he has on hand. But he's a really good fellow, of the kind who in all circumstances find time to do a friendly thing. Always from the first taken a friendly interest in our little experiment. He is, indeed, indirectly personally responsible for its undertaking. If I hadn't come across him playing leapfrog before dinner with AKERS—DOUGLAS and JACKSON, as mentioned some weeks ago, SARK and I would never have tried this way of passing a Recess.
Hadn't heard OLD MORALITY was going to look in. Expect he wasn't sure he could get away from Cabinet Council, and so didn't write. When I came upon him he was standing absorbed in contemplation of ARPACHSHAD. ARPACHSHAD, himself, so engrossed in problem occupying his mind, that he did not notice our visitor. Had started yesterday cutting grass on lawn with machine. Getting on pretty well with it till, this morning, wind rose, blowing half a gale from Westward. ARPACHSHAD discovered that, starting with machine from the Westward, he, with wind blowing astern, got on capitally; but coming back, with wind ahead, there was decided addition to labour of propelling machine. When OLD MORALITY arrived, ARPACHSHAD had halted midway across the lawn, and was looking Westward with air of profound and troubled cogitation.
"I know what he's thinking of," said OLD MORALITY, whose Parliamentary experience has made him an adept at thought-reading; "he's wondering if it's possible to mow the lawn all from the Westward, so that he would have the wind behind him throughout the operation."
No doubt OLD MORALITY had fathomed depth of ARPACHSHAD's meditations. Pretty to see his manoeuvring: Went down full-sail with assistance of favouring gale; tried to tack back, bearing away to the North; when he'd got a little way, slewed round to the West, going off before the wind to edge of lawn. Finally borne in upon him that the position was inexorable. He couldn't go with the wind all the time; must retrace his steps; by tacking was really covering more ground than need be; was, in fact, doing more work than he had intended. Shocked at this discovery proceeded to follow ordinary course. Presently catching sight of solitary leaf careering down walk, fetched broom, and tenderly tickled the gravel in pursuit of the leaf.
"There is," SARK sharply observed, "nothing ARPACHSHAD enjoys more than dusting the walk with a broom. It is a process that combines the maximum of appearance of hard work with the minimum of exertion."
OLD MORALITY pretty lively in anticipation of Session, which opens to-morrow. Always inclined to take sanguine view of situation. Doesn't vary now. "Oh, you leave it to us, TOBY, dear boy." he said, when I expressed hope that he would not risk his precious life and health by overdoing it. "We've got a splendid programme, and mean to pull through every Bill. Didn't do much last year, it is true: but don't you see the advantage of that? If we'd passed all our Bills last Session, must have arranged a new programme this year, involving considerable labour. As it is we turn a handle, and there are all the old things once more; homely and friendly; as the poet says, 'All, all, are come, the old familiar faces.' There's the Irish Local Government Bill, the Tithes Bill, Employers' Liability, and a troop of others. All been brought in before; everybody knows about them; if we don't pass them this Session they must come up again next."
"Ha!" said SARK; "so there is to be a next Session."
"Certainly," said OLD MORALITY—"and we would have another, if we could. In fact, I'm not quite sure whether it may not be managed. We are always suspending Standing Orders, of one kind or another. It is a Standing Order of the Constitution that no Parliament shall sit longer than seven years. Very good—in an ordinary way, excellent; though, perhaps, a little too liberal in its arrangements when Mr. G. is in power. But as you, TOBY, may, in earlier years, diligently striving after improvement in caligraphy, have had occasion to note, Circumstances alter Cases. Here we are, a contented Government, with a Parliamentary majority always to be relied upon. Why disturb an ordered state of affairs, and plunge the country into the turmoil and expense of a General Election? Why not bring in a short Bill to suspend the Septennial Act, and let the present Parliament go on sitting indefinitely? Why should the Long Parliament remain a monopoly of the Seventeenth Century? I do not mind telling you (this, of course, in confidence) that we have talked the matter over in the Cabinet. It was the MARKISS who first started it; and, though one or two objections have been raised, the idea is rather growing upon us, and I should not wonder if it came to something. You will find no mention of it in the Queen's Speech—but that is neither there nor here."
"I have noticed," said SARK, "that of late it has happened that Bills mentioned in the Queen's Speech come to nothing, whilst the Session is largely taken up with discussion of Bills which find no place in that catalogue. Last year, for example, JOKIM's Compensation Bill wasn't mentioned in the Queen's Speech; and yet it filled a large part in the programme of the Session."
"Ah," said OLD MORALITY, changing the subject, "I see ARPACHSHAD has nearly come up with that leaf. He'll be going to his dinner now, I suppose, and I think I must be off. Shall see you at the House to-morrow. Sorry for you to break up the associations of your rural life; but that only temporary."
Saw OLD MORALITY off at the station. Came back to pack up our spade and hoe, and leave some general instructions with ARPACHSHAD. He seems much touched at the approaching separation. Quite unable to continue the lawn-mowing. Followed us about with his jack-knife open, clipping here and there a dead stem, so as to keep up an appearance of incessant labour.
"Ours is only a change of occupation, ARPACHSHAD," said SARK. "We cease to labour here, but we carry on our work in another field. We go to town, leaving, as the Poet GRAY might have said, the garden to solitude and you."
"Excuse me, Gents," said ARPACHSHAD. a look of anxiety crossing his mobile face, "but you can't leave it to me altogether. I could manage well enough when you were here, helpin' and workin'. But, when you're gone, I'll have to have at least one extry man." SARK pleased at this testimony to value of our assistance; but it really means that ARPACHSHAD intends to do less than ever, running us into the expense of a second gardener.
Arrive at Fine Art Society's Place, and there look at HOKUSAI's drawings and engravings. Who was HOKUSAI? Why, don't you know? He was our own LIKA-JOKO's great-grandfather. "Great-grandfather was a most wonderful man, There's none of 'em does what great-grandfather can," except LIKA JOKO, of course. Obliged to say this, because I know LIKA JOKO goes about with a Daimio's two-handed sword, and he would think nothing of giving me the cut direct. But to return to HOKUSAI—sounds like sneezing in a Dutch dialect, doesn't it?—his drawings are full of originality and humour; he was possessed of wondrous versatility and great industry. He began to draw at six, and continued till he was well-nigh ninety. Were he flourishing now, he might illustrate the lucubrations of
Yours par-tially, OLD PAR.
"UP ABOVE THE WORLD SO HIGH!"—See Mr. Punch Among the Planets—his Christmas Number. In spite of its title, it is not "over the heads of the People." Look out below!
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